What curious glimpses of life one catches sometimes unawares, scenes that flash forth distinctly from the tangled mass of movement, the crowded details, the inextricable confusion of human affairs as they appear to the looker-on in a great city. Seen amidst all the turmoil, from a hansom cab, from the top of an omnibus, from the platform of an underground station in a train that stops for a minute, from the pavement in a carriage blocked in the stream of traffic, by day and night, from out of the routine, the commonplace doings of people in the commonplace moods and phrases which weave themselves into the length of wholesome lives, they stand out to view, these intervals of intensity, the beginnings of episodes – tragic, heroic, amorous, abject; or the conclusions, which make the turning point the crisis of a life. If it be the beginning, how one aches to know what the end will be; and if it be the end, what would not one give for the first part!
For instance: I was coming home alone late one night by train from a distant suburb, and happened to get into a carriage with three other people. One of them was a man of about forty, with dark hair going grey, and a pleasant, clean-cut, well-disciplined face. The other two were husband and wife, the husband being a good deal older than the wife. There seemed to have been some disagreement between the pair before I got into the carriage, for the lady looked sulky and dejected, while the gentleman was a good deal ruffled. He spoke a word or two to the other passenger, however, in a way which showed that they were acquainted, and also, as it seemed to me, for the purpose of keeping up appearances. The lady, on the contrary, made no attempt to disguise her feelings, but sat silent and rigid, staring into the darkness, until the train stopped, when her husband grimly handed her out, and I was left alone with the third passenger.
We watched the pair walk off together, and it was obvious that the quarrel recommenced before they had taken many steps. My solitary fellow passenger sat opposite to me, and when the two had passed out of sight, our eyes met with an involuntary glance of intelligence, and he shrugged his shoulders slightly.
‘I should like to give that pair a piece of advice,’ slipped from me unawares.
‘Ah!’ he said, ‘so should I; but it is an impossible thing to do in such cases.’
‘I suppose you are thinking that people know their own business best,’ I rejoined.
‘No, I am not,’ he answered. ‘The lookers-on see most of the game, you know. But, nevertheless, it is worse than useless to offer advice to a married pair – especially when they are both wrong-headed,’ he added. ‘But even right-headed people, with the best intentions, make terrible mistakes; and in their own cases too, when they might be expected to know what they are about. Now, that man who was here just now watches his wife, and keeps her shut up, or only allows her out under escort, as if he thought that she would certainly misconduct herself if ever she had an opportunity. The consequence is that she is growing to dislike and despise him, and he may drive her in the end to do the very thing he is guarding against. I cannot understand how a man can care to have a bond-slave, always under orders, for a wife. Personally, I prefer a free woman; and I should be sorry to think that liberty means licence in any but exceptional cases.’
‘But there, it seems to me, a difficulty arises,’ I observed. ‘How is a man to tell which will prove an exceptional case?’
‘Oh, I should think there is no difficulty about that,’ he answered. ‘Girls give indications of character early enough; and at any rate, if they are not trustworthy, dogging them about won’t make them so. I don’t say, however, that a young and thoughtless girl should be cast entirely upon her own resources; only, what she wants is a companion, not a keeper. However, as I said just now, the right ordering of married lives is a matter in which even the best-intentioned people may make mistakes. I married a girl somewhat younger than myself – about ten years – not that I think that makes a difference if people agree in their tastes. It so happened, however, that we did not agree. I am fond of a quiet life, with full leisure for art and literature, and dislike nothing so much as killing time in idle chatter at entertainments where one is not entertained. My wife, on the contrary, as I found out very soon after we were married, is positively bored by books and pictures, and is never so happy as when she is in the full whirl of the social maëlstrom. Well, I thought the matter out, and the justice of the case seemed to me to demand that she should not require me to go into society, and that I should not require her to stay at home. We were fond of each other, but I could not see why on that account either of us should have our life spoilt by being made to conform to the uncongenial tastes and habits of the other. Marriage must be a perfect institution when there is entire similarity of interests; but if there is not, I cannot see why people should be miserable. So I let my wife go her way and I went mine, and the plan seemed to be answering capitally. There were times when she would have liked me to go out with her, and there were times when I should have been glad if she had stayed at home with me; and occasionally we conformed to one another’s secret wishes in these respects, but I cannot say that the self-sacrifice was much of a success. There was one fancy-dress ball – a public affair – that she particularly wanted to go to, and I thought she half hinted that I should accompany her; if so, I did not take the hint; I knew I should be so bored.
‘She went to that ball rather conspicuously well-dressed in silver-grey domino, lined with pink silk and trimmed with white lace. Her fan was white ostrich feathers, and her mask was trimmed with lace, which concealed her mouth. She had been quite excited about going, but when it came to the point she did not seem so very eager after all. She was to meet some friends there, and I said I would sit up for her, and she promised not to be late.
‘After she had gone, I felt depressed somehow. I got a book and cigar, but did not find either of them absorbing. My mind wandered when I tried to read, and I had to give up at last, and just settle myself to smoke and think things out.
‘I began to wonder what my wife was doing at the ball, and if she had found her friends all right. Then it occurred to me that it would be very awkward if, by some mistake, they did not meet. All kinds of people go to these public balls, and manners are apt to be free-and-easy when masks are worn. My wife, even in her domino, gave the impression of youth and good looks. She might be subjected to some annoyance from the bounders who haunt such places. At that moment she might be dancing with some very undesirable partner. Had I done right to let her go alone? I threw my cigar into the fireplace and got up, but without any distinct idea; in fact, I stood for a little, as one does sometimes in a difficulty, with all thought suspended. Then I recollected a fancy dress I had had for a ball I went to before I met my wife. It was the black velvet costume of a Spanish Don of the period of Philip IV – the Velasquez period1 – a handsome dress copied from a picture, and well made. I went to my studio and there I found it in an old chest, and the mask I had worn along with it.
‘It was still early in the night – why not dress and go to the ball also? My wife had taken the carriage, but there were some livery stables near, and I could easily get a brougham. I rang for my man and sent him to fetch me one.
‘The ball was in full swing when I arrived, but by great good luck almost the first person I saw was my wife. The silver-grey, pale pink, white lace and white ostrich-feather fan made an easily distinguishable costume, and I recognized her at once, and made my way through the crowd towards her. But as I approached I realized that she could not possibly recognize me. She had never seen me in that dress – she probably did not even know that I had it; yet, although I was walking straight up to her, and she saw that I was, she made no sign of objection. Was it possible that she would let a strange man speak to her, and even encourage him to do so by her attitude? The horrible doubt shot such a pang through my heart that I determined to set it at rest for ever by making the experiment. Without waiting to ask myself whether it was a fair or an unfair thing to do, I addressed her in a feigned voice familiarly.
‘ “I fancy that you are waiting for me,” I said. “Please say that you are.”
‘ “Well, I am waiting for something exciting to happen,” she answered, also disguising her voice, and speaking with the easy assurance of one who is accustomed to such encounters; “for standing here alone is not lively.”
‘For a moment the tawdry splendour of the scene was blotted out. I could neither see nor hear. I recovered myself, however, just as the band struck up, and asked her mechanically if I might have the pleasure of a dance.
‘ “I shall be delighted,” she replied, taking my arm at once, and leading me, rather than waiting to be led, through the motley crew about us to the ballroom, in a free-and-easy way that filled me with consternation. In her right mind, she had always seemed to be reserved with strangers, and I should never have imagined that a mask would have made such a difference.
‘She danced with the abandonment of a ballet girl, and when the music ceased, she asked me for ice and liqueur, and showed me the way to the refreshment room. When she had had all she wanted, and it was a good deal, she took my arm again, and we began to walk about. She seemed to know all the ins-and-outs of the place, which surprised me, for I did not suppose that she had ever been there before. I asked her, however.
‘ “Have I ever been here before!” she ejaculated, “I should just think so! I come whenever I can.”
‘ “Do you tell your husband?” I ventured.
‘ “Oh, my husband!” she exclaimed. “But who told you that I had a husband, by the way?”
‘ “I feel sure that a lady of your personal attractions and charms of manner cannot fail to have a husband,” I answered.
‘ “Ah, courtier,” she said, “heigho! What a difference between husbands and lovers. Aren’t women fools to marry if they can make love for a livelihood?”
‘She clasped her hands round my arm as she spoke, and looked up into my face alluringly. Was this the true woman, I wondered, and was that other to whom I was accustomed, only an actress earning her living? No, I could not believe it. I argued with myself that the manner and sentiments were assumed with the dress, that they were part of the masquerade; but she could not have done it so well without much experience, and she confessed that she came here often, which argued deceit, for I had never had a hint of it. Indeed, the reason she gave me for going that night was, that she had never been to a mask-ball. O thrice accursed fool that I was to let her come alone! Yet perhaps it was just as well. I knew that she was frivolous, but had never suspected that she was fast. Indeed, I would have wagered my soul that she was to be trusted anywhere, so she had taken me in finely, and it was just as well that I should know it. Doubtless my friends had known it all along, and pitied me for a blind, weak fool. But it was a shock, I can tell you, and I was in two minds the whole time. In the one I condemned her utterly, in the other I was trying to excuse her. Appearances were all against her certainly; but the habit of love and respect is not to be changed in a moment. And, after all, what had she done that could not be excused? She had talked in a vulgar way certainly, but I had not presumed upon it. If I had taken the slightest liberty, doubtless she would have resented it promptly. Would she?
‘Her hand was resting on my arm. I hesitated a moment, then I took it and pressed it. To my horror, she laughed, and returned the pressure.
‘ “You are waking up, Don Sombre,” she said. “I was beginning to fear that you were one of the doomed-to-dumps, you were so cold and dull. But the dumps don’t last long when I’m about. I’ll soon cheer you up and put some life in you.”
‘I felt a horrid emotion at these words, and it was some moments before I could master my voice. I was a broken man, and longed to sit down and cry like a child. It was sorrow that had come upon me, not anger. One is not angry where there is no hope; one is crushed. And yet, although I knew there was no hope, I was like a gambler who must stake again. I determined to go a little further, just to give her a last chance.
‘ “You have cheered me to such good purpose that I do not feel inclined to part with you,” I said; “but this crowd is distracting. Let us get out of it. I have a carriage waiting: will you come home with me?”
‘ “Why, he’s quite nervous,” she said, laughing. “Now, that is nice; for I could swear, Don Sombre, that you’re not accustomed to ‘No’ from a lady.”
‘ “Why is it nice?” I asked.
‘ “Well, you wouldn’t be nervous if you were indifferent, you know,” she said archly. “I can’t stand your cold-blooded creatures who don’t care a button either way.”
‘ “Then I ought to please you,” I answered grimly, “for, as you rightly perceive, I do care greatly. Will you come?”
‘She laughed again. Good heavens! Was that acquiescence? I drew her towards the main entrance with the impetuosity of a young lover, and she did not demur. She remarked that I seemed to be impatient, and impatient I was. Every moment was an hour of pain now until the ghastly farce was over. But I could not end it there and then. It was too serious. I must get her home. I went down the street myself to fetch my hired brougham, so that my name might not be called out, and I told the man to go back before I returned to hand her in. I was afraid of a scene in that public place if she suddenly discovered who I was, and it seemed an interminable time until we started. We were clear of the crowd, and off at last, however; but for the first few minutes I sat beside her unable to utter a word, and she began to rally me again on the subject of my gloom. Then she fell up against me, but whether because the carriage lurched, or out of mere wantonness, I could not tell. However, I put my arm round her, and she did not object.
‘ “Where do you live?” she asked, as we neared the house. “These streets are all alike, and I cannot tell where I am.”
‘ “Well, we are there, at any rate,” I answered, as the carriage stopped. I handed her out, and opened the door with my latchkey. The light was so low in the hall I had to take her hand to lead her up to the drawing room. There all was darkness, but I had matches in my pocket, and lit the gas.
‘Then I turned to her. She was giggling at something, but did not seem to see where she was.
‘ “Now, madam,” I said sternly, “we will unmask.”
‘In a moment she had taken hers off, and slipped out of her domino.
‘I gazed, I gasped, I fell into a chair! The woman before me was a perfect stranger – a creature with dyed hair, blackened eyelids, and painted cheeks – not the sort of person to be seen with anywhere if one valued one’s reputation, and yet I could have gone down on my knees and kissed the hem of her garment, so great was my relief. I shall never forget it! For the first few minutes I could think of nothing, do nothing, but just sit there gazing at her, and smiling idiotically. She was flattered by my attitude, which she mistook for speechless admiration, and she stood still, posing in a theatrical manner, with an affectation of coyness, until I recovered myself.
‘My first clear idea was that I must get rid of her; but how to do it without offering her any indignity? I was casting about in my mind for a plausible excuse; but before anything occurred to me, a carriage stopped at the door below, I heard a key turned in the lock, then the rustle of silk, and a light step on the staircase. My wife had returned early as she had promised, and was coming straight up to the drawing room.
‘Her hand was already on the handle of the door—’
He broke off at this point and looked out of the window. The train had stopped, but we had not noticed it at the moment.
‘Hello!’ he exclaimed, ‘this is my station!’ and out he jumped just as we were moving off again.
I have never seen him since; I do not suppose that I ever shall. So I expect that all my life long I shall be tormented with conjectures as to what happened when that door opened.