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I only saw him for a moment coming out after I had congratulated Miss Mardon. There were so many people. There was no time to hear all he thought. But there could not be two opinions. Claudie, do you feel quite finished?" "No," said Claude, in a strong voice, which broke in almost strangely upon her lively chattering.
The aspect of the dinner was changed, ameliorated; and with the reiterated statement that the evenings were drawing in though it was only July, conversation became almost general. In two minutes Mr. Mardon was genially talking across the whole length of the table. The meal finished in a state that resembled conviviality.
He fashioned idols of wood and stone, and paid worship to them. But not satisfied to lead a godless life himself, he did all he could to tempt his subjects into evil ways, wherein he was aided and abetted by his son Mardon. This son of his outstripped his father in iniquity. It was their time and their life that gave rise to the proverb, "Out of the wicked cometh forth wickedness."
He had been advised to avoid it because it catered exclusively for English visitors, but in the Pension Frensham he had accepted something even more exclusively British than the Hotel Moscow. Mr. Mardon was quite relieved at his affirmative. "The Hotel Moscow is a limited company now," said he; "English." "Really?" "Yes. I floated it. It was my idea. A great success!
Her own name of Scales intrigued him. Mr. Mardon shook his head. "Bought it on her own, after the husband's time, for a song a song! I know, because I knew the original Frenshams." "You must have been in Paris a long time," said Peel-Swynnerton. Mr. Mardon could never resist an opportunity to talk about himself. His was a wonderful history.
I was helped by remembering my recovery before, and I was able now, as a reward of long-continued abstinence from wine, to lie much stiller, and wait with more patience till the cloud should lift. Mardon having gone to London, I was more alone than ever, but my love for Mary increased in intensity, and had a good deal to do with my restoration to health.
It was nine-tenths mistake and one-tenth something more heinous; and the worst of it is, that while there is nothing which a man does which is of greater consequence than the choice of a woman with whom he is to live, there is nothing he does in which he is more liable to self- deception. On my return I heard that Mardon was ill, and that probably he would die.
"Oh, I've had my lesson!" she heard him say. "Miss Mardon said nothing to you?" He had turned. "No," she said. "Crayford said nothing?" "Mr. Crayford was surrounded. He said, 'It's gone grandly. We've all made good. I don't care a snap what the critics say to-morrow." "And you knew he was telling you a lie!" She was silent. "You knew the truth, which is this: everyone made good except myself.
He died, faithful to the end, with infinitely higher hopes, purposes, and capacity than mine, and with almost no promise of anything to come of them. Something of this kind I preached one Sunday, more as a relief to myself than for any other reason. Mardon was there, and with him a girl whom I had not seen before. My sight is rather short, and I could not very well tell what she was like.
What the four evangelists recorded was eternally true, and the Christ-idea was true whether it was ever incarnated or not in a being bearing His name. "Pardon me," said Mardon, "but it does very much matter. It is all the matter whether we are dealing with a dream or with reality.
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