65 Short Stories (144 page)

Gilbert and the French maid taught her how to wear her clothes, and, unexpectedly enough, she was very quick at learning. The French maid was in raptures over Madame’s arms and shoulders. It was a scandal not to show anything so fine.

Wait a little, Alphonsine,’ said Gilbert. ‘The next lot of clothes I design for Madame we’ll make the most of her.’

The spectacles of course were dreadful. No one could look really well in gold-rimmed spectacles. Gilbert tried some with tortoiseshell rims. He shook his head.

‘They’d look all right on a girl,’ he said. ‘You’re too old to wear spectacles, Jane.’ Suddenly he had an inspiration. ‘By George, I’ve got it. You must wear an eyeglass.’

‘Oh, Gilbert, I couldn’t’

She looked at him and his excitement, the excitement of the artist, made her smile. He was so sweet to her she wanted to do what she could to please him. ‘I’ll try,’ she said.

When they went to an optician and, suited with the right size, she placed an eyeglass jauntily in her eye Gilbert clapped his hands. There and then, before the astonished shopman, he kissed her on both cheeks.

‘You look wonderful,’ he cried.

So they went down to Italy and spent happy months studying Renaissance and Baroque architecture. Jane not only grew accustomed to her changed appearance, but found she liked it. At first she was a little shy when she went into the dining-room of an hotel and people turned round to stare at her, no one had ever raised an eyelid to look at her before, but presently she found that the sensation was not disagreeable. Ladies came up to her and asked her where she got her dress.

Do you like it?’ she answered demurely. ‘My husband designed it for me.’

‘I should like to copy it if you don’t mind.’

Jane had certainly for many years lived a very quiet life, but she was by no means lacking in the normal instincts of her sex. She had her answer ready.

‘I’m so sorry, but my husband’s very particular and he won’t hear of anyone copying my frocks. He wants me to be unique.’

She had an idea that people would laugh when she said this, but they didn’t; they merely answered:

‘Oh, of course I quite understand. You 
are 
unique.’

But she saw them making mental notes of what she wore, and for some reason this quite ‘put her about’. For once in her life that she wasn’t wearing what everybody else did, she reflected, she didn’t see why everybody else should want to wear what she did.

‘Gilbert,’ said she, quite sharply for her, ‘next time you’re designing dresses for me I wish you’d design things that people 
can’t 
copy.’

‘The only way to do that is to design things that only you can wear.’

‘Can’t you do that?’

‘Yes, if you’ll do something for me.’

‘What is it?’

‘Cut off your hair.’

I think this was the first time that Jane jibbed. Her hair was long and thick and as a girl she had been quite vain of it; to cut it off was a very drastic proceeding. This really was burning her boats behind her. In her case it was not the first step that cost so much, it was the last; but she took it (‘I know Marion will think me a perfect fool, and I shall 
never 
be able to go to Liverpool again,’ she said), and when they passed through Paris on their way home Gilbert led her (she felt quite sick, her heart was beating so fast) to the best hairdresser in the world. She came out of this shop with a jaunty, saucy, impudent head of crisp grey curls. Pygmalion had finished his fantastic masterpiece: Galatea was come to life.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but that isn’t enough to explain why Jane is here tonight amid this crowd of duchesses, Cabinet Ministers, and suchlike; nor why she is sitting on one side of her host with an Admiral of the Fleet on the other.’

‘Jane is a humorist,’ said Mrs Tower. ‘Didn’t you see them all laughing at what she said?’

There was no doubt now of the bitterness in Mrs Tower’s heart.

‘When Jane wrote and told me they were back from their honeymoon I thought I must ask them both to dinner. I didn’t much like the idea, but I felt it had to be done. I knew the party would be deadly and I wasn’t going to sacrifice any of the people who really mattered. On the other hand I didn’t want Jane to think I hadn’t any nice friends. You know I never have more than eight, but on this occasion I thought it would make things go better if I had twelve. I’d been too busy to see Jane until the evening of the party. She kept us all waiting a little-that was Gilbert’s cleverness-and at last she sailed in. You could have knocked me down with a feather. She made the rest of the women look dowdy and provincial. She made me feel like a painted old trollop.’

Mrs Tower drank a little champagne.

‘I wish I could describe the frock to you. It would have been quite impossible on anyone else; on her it was perfect. And the eyeglass! I’d known her for thirty-five years and I’d never seen her without spectacles.’

‘But you knew she had a good figure.’

‘How should I? I’d never seen her except in the clothes you first saw her in. Did you think she had a good figure? She seemed not to be unconscious of the sensation she made but to take it as a matter of course. I thought of my dinner and I heaved a sigh of relief Even if she was a little heavy in hand, with that appearance it didn’t so very much matter. She was sitting at the other end of the table and I heard a good deal of laughter. I was glad to think that the other people were playing up well; but after dinner I was a good deal taken aback when no less than three men came up to me and told me that my sister-in-law was priceless, and did I think she would allow them to call on her? I didn’t quite know whether I was standing on my head or my heels. Twenty-four hours later our hostess of tonight rang me up and said she had heard my sister-in-law was in London and she was priceless and would I ask her to luncheon to meet her? She has an infallible instinct, that woman: in a month everyone was talking about Jane. I am here tonight, not because I’ve known our hostess for twenty years and have asked her to dinner a hundred times, but because I’m Jane’s sister-in-law’

Poor Mrs Tower. The position was galling, and though I could not help being amused, for the tables were turned on her with a vengeance, I felt that she deserved my sympathy.

‘People never can resist those who make them laugh,’ I said, trying to console her.

‘She never makes 
me 
laugh.’

Once more from the top of the table I heard a guffaw and guessed that Jane had said another amusing thing.

‘Do you mean to say that you are the only person who doesn’t think her funny?’ I asked, smiling.

‘Had it struck you that she was a humorist?’

‘I’m bound to say it hadn’t.’

‘She says just the same things as she’s said for the last thirty-five years, I laugh when I see everyone else does because I don’t want to seem a perfect fool, but I am not amused.’

‘Like Queen Victoria,’ I said.

It was a foolish jest and Mrs Tower was quite right sharply to tell me so. I tried another tack.

‘Is Gilbert here?’ I asked, looking down the table.

‘Gilbert was asked because she won’t go out without him, but tonight he’s at a dinner of the Architects’ Institute or whatever it’s called.’

‘I’m dying to renew my acquaintance with her.’

‘Go and talk to her after dinner. She’ll ask you to her Tuesdays.’

‘Her Tuesdays?’

‘She’s at home every Tuesday evening. You’ll meet there everyone you ever heard of They’re the best parties in London. She’s done in one year what I’ve failed to do in twenty.’

‘But what you tell me is really miraculous. How has it been done?’ Mrs Tower shrugged her handsome but adipose shoulders.

‘I shall be glad if you’ll tell me,’ she replied.

After dinner I tried to make my way to the sofa on which Jane was sitting, but I was intercepted and it was not till a little later that my hostess came up to me and said:

‘I must introduce you to the star of my party. Do you know Jane Napier? She’s priceless. She’s much more amusing than your comedies.’

I was taken up to the sofa. The admiral who had been sitting beside her at dinner was with her still. He showed no sign of moving and Jane, shaking hands with me, introduced me to him.

Do you know Sir Reginald Frobisher?’

We began to chat. It was the same Jane as I had known before, perfectly simple, homely and unaffected, but her fantastic appearance certainly gave a peculiar savour to what she said. Suddenly I found myself shaking with laughter. She had made a remark, sensible and to the point, but not in the least witty, which her manner of saying and the bland look she gave me through her eyeglass made perfectly irresistible. I felt light-hearted and buoyant. When I left her she said to me:

‘If you’ve got nothing better to do, come and see us on Tuesday evening. Gilbert will be so glad to see you.’

‘When he’s been a month in London he’ll know that he 
can 
have nothing better to do,’ said the admiral.

So, on Tuesday but rather late, I went to Jane’s. I confess I was a little surprised at the company. It was quite a remarkable collection of writers, painters and politicians, actors, great ladies and great beauties: Mrs Tower was right, it was a grand party; I had seen nothing like it in London since Stafford House was sold. No particular entertainment was provided. The refreshments were adequate without being luxurious. Jane in her quiet way seemed to be enjoying herself; I could not see that she took a great deal of trouble with her guests, but they seemed to like being there and the gay, pleasant party did not break up till two in the morning. After that I saw much of her. I not only went often to her house, but seldom went out to luncheon or to dinner without meeting her. I am an amateur of humour and I sought to discover in what lay her peculiar gift. It was impossible to repeat anything she said, for the fun, like certain wines, would not travel. She had no gift for epigram. She never made a brilliant repartee. There was no malice in her remarks nor sting in her rejoinders. There are those who think that impropriety, rather than brevity, is the soul of wit; but she never said a thing that could have brought a blush to a Victorian cheek. I think her humour was unconscious and I am sure it was unpremeditated. It flew like a butterfly from flower to flower, obedient only to its own caprice and pursuivant of neither method nor intention. It depended on the way she spoke and on the way she looked. Its subtlety gained by the flaunting and extravagant appearance that Gilbert had achieved for her; but her appearance was only an element in it. Now of course she was the fashion and people laughed if she but opened her mouth. They no longer wondered that Gilbert had married a wife so much older than himself They saw that Jane was a woman with whom age did not count. They thought him a devilish lucky young fellow. The admiral quoted Shakespeare to me: ‘Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety.’ Gilbert was delighted with her success. As I came to know him better I grew to like him. It was quite evident that he was neither a rascal nor a fortune-hunter. He was not only immensely proud of Jane but genuinely devoted to her. His kindness to her was touching. He was a very unselfish and sweet-tempered young man.

‘Well, what do you think of Jane now?’ he said to me once, with boyish triumph.

‘I don’t know which of you is more wonderful,’ I said. ‘You or she.’

‘Oh, I’m nothing.’

‘Nonsense. You don’t think I’m such a fool as not to see that it’s you, and you only, who’ve made Jane what she is.’

‘My only merit is that I saw what was there when it wasn’t obvious to the naked eye,’ he answered.

‘I can understand your seeing that she had in her the possibility of that remarkable appearance, but how in the world have you made her into a humorist?’

‘But I always thought the things she said a perfect scream. She was always a humorist.’

‘You’re the only person who ever thought so.’

Mrs Tower, not without magnanimity, acknowledged that she had been mistaken in Gilbert. She grew quite attached to him. But notwithstanding appearances she never faltered in her opinion that the marriage could not last I was obliged to laugh at her.

Why, I’ve never seen such a devoted couple,’ I said.

‘Gilbert is twenty-seven now It’s just the time for a pretty girl to come along. Did you notice the other evening at Jane’s that pretty little niece of Sir Reginald’s? I thought Jane was looking at them both with a good deal of attention, and I wondered to myself.’

‘I don’t believe Jane fears the rivalry of any girl under the sun.’

Wait and see,’ said Mrs Tower.

You gave it six months.’

Well, now I give it three years.’

When anyone is very positive in an opinion it is only human nature to wish him proved wrong. Mrs Tower was really too cocksure. But such a satisfaction was not mine, for the end that she had always and confidently predicted to the ill-assorted match did in point of fact come. Still, the fates seldom give us what we want in the way we want it, and though Mrs Tower could flatter herself that she had been right, I think after all she would sooner have been wrong. For things did not happen at all in the way she expected.