Two days later Beste‑Chetwynde and Paul were in the organ‑loft of the Llanabba Parish Church.
'I don't think I played that terribly well, do you, sir?
'No.
'Shall I stop for a bit?
'I wish you would.
'Tangent's foot has swollen up and turned black, said Beste‑Chetwynde with relish.
'Poor little brute! said Paul.
'I had a letter from my mamma this morning, Beste-Chetwynde went on. 'There's a message for you in it. Shall I read you what she says?
He took out a letter written on the thickest possible paper. 'The first part is all about racing and a row she's had with Chokey. Apparently he doesn't like the way she's rebuilt our house in the country. I think it was time she dropped that man, don't you?
'What does she say about me? asked Paul.
'She says: "By the way, dear boy, I must tell you that the spelling in your last letters has been just too shattering for words. You know how terribly anxious I am for you to get on and go to Oxford, and everything, and I have been thinking, don't you think it might be a good thing if we were to have a tutor next holidays? Would you think it too boring? Some one young who would fit in. I thought, would that good‑looking young master you said you liked care to come? How much ought I to pay him? I never know these things. I don't mean the drunk one, tho' he was sweet too." I think that must be you, don't you? said Beste‑Chetwynde; 'it can hardly be Captain Grimes.
'Well, I must think that over, said Paul. 'It sounds rather a good idea.
'Well, yes, said Beste‑Chetwynde doubtfully, 'it might be all right, only there mustn't be too much of the schoolmaster about it. That man Prendergast beat me the other evening.
'And there'll be no organ lessons, either, said Paul.
Grimes did not receive the news as enthusiastically as Paul had hoped; he was sitting over the Common Room fire despondently biting his nails.
'Good, old boy! That's splendid, he said abstractedly. 'I'm glad; I am really.
'Well, you don't sound exactly gay.
'No, I'm not. Fact is, I'm in the soup again.
'Badly?
'Up to the neck.
'My dear chap, I am sorry. What are you going to do about it?
'I've done the only thing: I've announced my engagement.
'That'll please Flossie.
'Oh, yes, she's as pleased as hell about it, damn her nasty little eyes.
'What did the old man say?
'Baffled him a bit, old boy. He's just thinking things out at the moment. Well, I expect everything'll be all right.
'I don't see why it shouldn't be.
'Well, there is a reason. I don't think I told you before, but fact is, I'm married already.
That evening Paul received a summons from the Doctor. He wore a double‑breasted dinner-jacket, which he smoothed uneasily over his hips at Paul's approach. He looked worried and old.
'Pennyfeather, he said, 'I have this morning received a severe shock, two shocks in fact. The first was disagreeable, but not wholly unexpected. Your colleague, Captain Grimes, has been convicted before me, on evidence that leaves no possibility of his innocence, of a crime ‑ I might almost call it a course of action ‑ which I can neither understand nor excuse. I daresay I need not particularize. However, that is all a minor question. I have quite frequently met with similar cases during a long experience in our profession. But what has disturbed and grieved me more than I can moderately express is the information that he is engaged to be married to my elder daughter. That, Pennyfeather, I had not expected. In the circumstances it seemed a humiliation I might reasonably have been spared. I tell you all this, Pennyfeather, because in our brief acquaintance I have learned to trust and respect you.
The Doctor sighed, drew from his pocket a handkerchief of crêpe de chine, blew his nose with every accent of emotion, and resumed:
'He is not the son‑in‑law I should readily have chosen. I could have forgiven him his wooden leg, his slavish poverty, his moral turpitude, and his abominable features; I could even have forgiven him his incredible vocabulary, if only he had been a gentleman. I hope you do not think me a snob. You may have discerned in me a certain prejudice against the lower orders. It is quite true. I do feel deeply on the subject. You see, I married one of them. But that, unfortunately, is neither here nor there. What I really wished to say to you was this: I have spoken to the unhappy young woman my daughter, and find that she has no particular inclination towards Grimes. Indeed, I do not think that any daughter of mine could fall as low as that. But she is, for some reason, uncontrollably eager to be married to somebody fairly soon. Now, I should be quite prepared to offer a partnership in Llanabba to a son‑in‑law of whom I approved. The income of the school is normally not less than three thousand a year ‑ that is with the help of dear Diana's housekeeping ‑ and my junior partner would start at an income of a thousand, and of course succeed to a larger share upon my death. It is a prospect that many young men would find inviting. And I was wondering, Pennyfeather, whether by any chance, looking at the matter from a business‑like point of view, without prejudice, you understand, fair and square, taking things as they are for what they are worth, facing facts, whether possibly you … I wonder if I make myself plain?
'No, said Paul. 'No, sir, I'm afraid it would be impossible. I hope I don't appear rude, but ‑ no, really I'm afraid…
'That's all right, my dear boy. Not another word! I quite understand. I was afraid that would be your answer. Well, it must be Grimes, then. I don't think it would be any use approaching Mr Prendergast.
'It was very kind of you to suggest it, sir.
'Not at all, not at all. The wedding shall take place a week to‑day. You might tell Grimes that if you see him. I don't want to have more to do with him than I can help. I wonder whether it would be a good thing to give a small party? For a moment a light sprang up in Dr Fagan's eyes and then died out. 'No, no, there will be no party. The sports were not encouraging. Poor little Lord Tangent is still laid up, I hear.
Paul returned to the Common Room with the Doctor's message.
'Hell! said Grimes. 'I still hoped it might fall through.
'What d'you want for a wedding present? Paul asked.
Grimes brightened. 'What about that binge you promised me and Prendy?
'All right! said Paul. 'We'll have it tomorrow.
* * *
The Hotel Metropole, Cympryddyg, is by far the grandest hotel in the north of Wales. It is situated on a high and healthy eminence overlooking the strip of water that railway companies have gallantly compared to the Bay of Naples. It was built in the ample days preceding the war, with a lavish expenditure on looking‑glass and marble. To‑day it shows signs of wear, for it has never been quite as popular as its pioneers hoped. There are cracks in the cement on the main terrace, the winter garden is draughty, and one comes disconcertingly upon derelict bathchairs in the Moorish Court. Besides this, none of the fountains ever play, the string band that used to perform nightly in the ballroom has given place to a very expensive wireless set which one of the waiters knows how to operate, there is never any notepaper in the writing‑room, and the sheets are not long enough for the beds. Philbrick pointed out these defects to Paul as he sat with Grimes and Mr Prendergast drinking cocktails in the Palm Court before dinner.
'And it isn't as though it was really cheap, he said. Philbrick had become quite genial during the last few days. 'Still, one can't expect much in Wales, and it is something. I can't live without some kind of luxury for long. I'm not staying this evening, or I'd ask you fellows to dine with me.
'Philbrick, old boy, said Grimes, 'me and my pals here have been wanting a word with you for some time. How about those yarns you spun about your being a ship-owner and a novelist and a burglar?
'Since you mention it, said Philbrick with dignity, 'they were untrue. One day you shall know my full story. It is stranger than any fiction. Meanwhile I have to be back at the Castle. Good night.
'He certainly seems quite a swell here, said Grimes as they watched him disappear into the night escorted with every obsequy by the manager and the head‑waiter. 'I daresay he could tell a story if he wanted to.
'I believe it's their keys, said Mr Prendergast suddenly. It was the first time that he had spoken. For twenty minutes he had been sitting very upright in his gilt chair and very alert, his eyes unusually bright, darting this way and that in his eagerness to miss nothing of the gay scene about him.
'What's their keys, Prendy?
'Why, the things they get given at the counter. I thought for a long time it was money.
'Is that what's been worrying you? Bless your heart, I thought it was the young lady in the office you were after.
'Oh, Grimes! said Mr Prendergast, and he blushed warmly and gave a little giggle.
Paul led his guests into the dining‑room.
'I haven't taught French for nothing all these years, said Grimes, studying the menu. 'I'll start with some jolly old huîtres.
Mr Prendergast ate a grape‑fruit with some difficulty. 'What a big orange! he said when he had finished it. 'They do things on a large scale here.
The soup came in little aluminium bowls. 'What price the ancestral silver? said Grimes. The Manchester merchants on the spree who sat all round them began to look a little askance at Paul's table.
'Someone's doing himself well on bubbly, said Grimes as a waiter advanced staggering under the weight of an ice‑pail from which emerged a Jeroboam of champagne. 'Good egg! It's coming to us.
'With Sir Solomon Philbrick's compliments to Captain Grimes and congratulations on his approaching marriage, sir.
Grimes took the waiter by the sleeve. 'See here, old boy, this Sir Solomon Philbrick ‑ know him well?
'He's here quite frequently, sir.
'Spends a lot of money, eh?
'He doesn't entertain at all, but he always has the best of everything himself, sir.
'Does he pay his bill?
'I really couldn't say, I'm afraid, sir. Would you be requiring anything else?
'All right, old boy! Don't get sniffy. Only he's a pal of mine, see?
'Really, Grimes, said Mr Prendergast, 'I am afraid you made him quite annoyed with your questions, and that stout man over there is staring at us in the most marked way.
'I've got a toast to propose. Prendy, fill up your glass. Here's to Trumpington, whoever he is, who gave us the money for this binge!
'And here's to Philbrick, said Paul, 'whoever he is!
'And here's to Miss Fagan, said Mr Prendergast, 'with our warmest hopes for her future happiness!
'Amen, said Grimes.
After the soup the worst sort of sole. Mr Prendergast made a little joke about soles and souls. Clearly the dinner‑party was being a great success.
'You know, said Grimes, 'look at it how you will, marriage is rather a grim thought.
'The three reasons for it given in the Prayer‑book have always seemed to me quite inadequate, agreed Mr Prendergast. 'I have never had the smallest difficulty about the avoidance of fornication, and the other two advantages seem to me nothing sort of disastrous.
'My first marriage, said Grimes, 'didn't make much odds either way. It was in Ireland. I was tight at the time, and so was everyone else. God knows what became of Mrs Grimes. It seems to me, though, that with Flossie I'm in for a pretty solemn solemnization. It's not what I should have chosen for myself, not by a long chalk. Still, as things are, I suppose it's the best thing that could have happened. I think I've about run through the schoolmastering profession. I don't mind telling you I might have found it pretty hard to get another job. There are limits. Now I'm set up for life, and no more worry about testimonials. That's something. In fact, that's all there is to be said. But there have been moments in the last twenty‑four hours, I don't mind telling you, when I've gone cold all over at the thought of what I was in for.
'I don't want to say anything discouraging, said Mr Prendergast, 'but I've known Flossie for nearly ten years now, and ‑
'There isn't anything you can tell me about Flossie that I don't know already. I almost wish it was Dingy. I suppose it's too late now to change. Oh dear! sait Grimes despondently, gazing into his glass. 'Oh, Lord! oh, Lord! That I should come to this!
'Cheer up, Grimes. It isn't like you to be as depressed as this, said Paul.
'Old friends, said Grimes ‑ and his voice was charged with emotion ‑ 'you see a man standing face to face with retribution. Respect him even if you cannot understand. Those that live by the flesh shall perish by the flesh. I am a very sinful man, and I am past my first youth. Who shall pity me in that dark declivity to which my steps inevitably seem to tend? I have boasted in my youth and held my head high and gone on my way careless of consequence, but ever behind me, unseen, stood stark Justice with his two‑edged sword.
More food was brought them. Mr Prendergast ate with a hearty appetite.
'Oh, why did nobody warn me? cried Grimes in his agony. 'I should have been told. They should have told me in so many words. They should have warned me about Flossie, not about the fires of hell. I've risked them, and I don't mind risking them again, but they should have told me about marriage. They should have told me that at the end of that gay journey and flower‑strewn path were the hideous lights of home and the voices of children. I should have been warned of the great lavender‑scented bed that was laid out for me, of the wistaria at the windows, of all the intimacy and confidence of family life. But I daresay I shouldn't have listened. Our life is lived between two homes. We emerge for a little into the light, and then the front door closes. The chintz curtains shut out the sun, and the hearth glows with the fire of home, while upstairs, above our heads, are enacted again the awful accidents of adolescence. There's a home and family waiting for every one of us. We can't escape, try how we may. It's the seed of life we carry about with us like our skeletons, each one of us unconsciously pregnant with desirable villa residences. There's no escape. As individuals we simply do not exist. We are just potential home‑builders, beavers, and ants. How do we come into being? What is birth?
'I've often wondered, said Mr Prendergast.
'What is this impulse of two people to build their beastly home? It's you and me, unborn, asserting our presence. All we are is a manifestation of the impulse of family life, and if by chance we have escaped the itch ourselves, Nature forces it upon us another way. Flossie's got that itch enough for two. I just haven't. I'm one of the blind alleys off the main road of procreation, but it doesn't matter. Nature always wins. Oh, Lord! oh, Lord! Why didn't I die in that first awful home? Why did I ever hope I could escape?
Captain Grimes continued his lament for some time in deep bitterness of heart. Presently he became silent and stared at his glass.
'I wonder, said Mr Prendergast, 'I wonder whether I could have just a little more of this very excellent pheasant?
'Anyway, said Grimes, 'there shan't be any children; I'll see to that.
'It has always been a mystery to me why people marry, said Mr Prendergast. 'I can't see the smallest reason for it. Quite happy, normal people. Now I can understand it in Grimes' case. He has everything to gain by the arrangement, but what does Flossie expect to gain? And yet she seems more enthusiastic about it than Grimes. It has been the tragedy of my life that whenever I start thinking about any quite simple subject I invariably feel myself confronted by some flat contradiction of this sort. Have you ever thought about marriage ‑ in the abstract, I mean, of course?
'Not very much, I'm afraid.
'I don't believe, said Mr Prendergast, 'that people would ever fall in love or want to be married if they hadn't been told about it. It's like abroad: no one would want to go there if they hadn't been told it existed. Don't you agree?
'I don't think you can be quite right, said Paul; 'you see, animals fall in love quite a lot, don't they?
'Do they? said Mr Prendergast. 'I didn't know that. What an extraordinary thing! But then I had an aunt whose cat used to put its paw up to its mouth when it yawned. It's wonderful what animals can be taught. There is a sea‑lion at the circus, I saw in the paper, who juggles with an umbrella and two oranges.
'I know what I'll do, said Grimes. 'I'll get a motor bicycle.
This seemed to cheer him up a little. He took another glass of wine and smiled wanly. 'I'm afraid I've not been following all you chaps have said. I was thinking. What were we talking about?
'Prendy was telling me about a sea‑lion who juggled with an umbrella and two oranges.
'Why, that's nothing. I can juggle with a whacking great bottle and a lump of ice and two knives. Look!
'Grimes, don't! Everyone is looking at you.
The head‑waiter came over to remonstrate. 'Please remember where you are, sir, he said.
'I know where I am well enough, said Grimes. 'I'm in the hotel my pal Sir Solomon Philbrick is talking of buying, and I tell you this, old boy: if he does, the first person to lose his job will be you. See?
Nevertheless he stopped juggling, and Mr Prendergast ate two pêches Melba undisturbed.
'The black cloud has passed, said Grimes. 'Grimes is now going to enjoy his evening.