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Updated: May 22, 2025
"But that lady, who's she?" he said to the servant before the man left him. "I think she's Mrs. St. George, sir." "Mrs. St. George, the wife of the distinguished " Then Paul Overt checked himself, doubting if a footman would know. "Yes, sir probably, sir," said his guide, who appeared to wish to intimate that a person staying at Summersoft would naturally be, if only by alliance, distinguished.
The nearness of Summersoft to London had this consequence, chilling to a person who had had a vision of sociability in a railway-carriage, that most of the company, after breakfast, drove back to town, entering their own vehicles, which had come out to fetch them, while their servants returned by train with their luggage.
You'll give me satisfaction if that has any weight with you." After which, as Paul appeared still to waver, his host added: "Do you remember what you said to me at Summersoft?" "Something infatuated, no doubt!" "'I'll do anything in the world you tell me. You said that." "And you hold me to it?" "Ah what am I?" the Master expressively sighed. "Lord, what things I shall have to do!"
Between artists come!" the Master wound up. "You know as well as you sit there that you'd put a pistol-ball into your brain if you had written my books!" It struck his listener that the tremendous talk promised by him at Summersoft had indeed come off, and with a promptitude, a fulness, with which the latter's young imagination had scarcely reckoned.
The young man then could but have the greater tribute of questions to pay. "Then what did you mean the other night at Summersoft by saying that children are a curse?" "My dear youth, on what basis are we talking?" and St. George dropped upon the sofa at a short distance from him.
"She's not for me!" the great novelist had said emphatically at Summersoft; but his manner of conducting himself toward her appeared not quite in harmony with such a conviction. How could he have behaved differently if she had been for him?
Paul had turned very red. "Oh it's a surprise very interesting, very charming! I'm afraid I can't dine so many thanks!" "Well, you must come to the wedding!" cried the General. "Oh I remember that day at Summersoft. He's a great man, you know." "Charming charming!" Paul stammered for retreat. He shook hands with the General and got off.
"I'll tell her I'll tell her," said the old man; and then he added quickly, gallantly: "You'll be giving us something new? It's a long time, isn't it?" Now he remembered him right. "Rather long. I'm very slow." Paul explained. "I met you at Summersoft a long time ago." "Oh yes with Henry St. George. I remember very well.
The smoking-room at Summersoft was on the scale of the rest of the place; high light commodious and decorated with such refined old carvings and mouldings that it seemed rather a bower for ladies who should sit at work at fading crewels than a parliament of gentlemen smoking strong cigars.
The Master looked up from his letters quite without the facial convulsion the pupil had feared. "I heard her speak of it at Summersoft." "Ah yes she's proud of it. I don't know it was rather good." "What was it about?" "Let me see." And he seemed to make an effort to remember. "Oh yes it was about myself."
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