Chapter 10 - Women Of The Future

From that day the Doctor's peace was gone. Never wasa quiet and orderly household transformed so suddenlyinto a bear garden, or a happy man turned into such acompletely miserable one. He had never realized beforehow entirely his daughters had shielded him from all thefriction of life. Now that they had not only ceased toprotect him, but had themselves become a source oftrouble to him, he began to understand how great theblessing was which he had enjoyed, and to sigh for thehappy days before his girls had come under the influenceof his neighbor.

"You don't look happy," Mrs. Westmacott had remarkedto him one morning. "You are pale and a little offcolor. You should come with me for a ten mile spin uponthe tandem."

"I am troubled about my girls." They were walking upand down in the garden. From time to time there soundedfrom the house behind them the long, sad wail of a Frenchhorn.

"That is Ida," said he. "She has taken topracticing on that dreadful instrument in theintervals of her chemistry. And Clara is quite as bad. I declare it is getting quite unendurable."

"Ah, Doctor, Doctor!" she cried, shaking herforefinger, with a gleam of her white teeth. "You mustlive up to your principles--you must give your daughtersthe same liberty as you advocate for other women."

"Liberty, madam, certainly! But this approaches tolicense."

"The same law for all, my friend." She tapped himreprovingly on the arm with her sunshade. "When you weretwenty your father did not, I presume, object to yourlearning chemistry or playing a musical instrument. Youwould have thought it tyranny if he had."

"But there is such a sudden change in them both."

"Yes, I have noticed that they have been veryenthusiastic lately in the cause of liberty. Of all mydisciples I think that they promise to be the mostdevoted and consistent, which is the more natural sincetheir father is one of our most trusted champions."

The Doctor gave a twitch of impatience. "I seem tohave lost all authority," he cried.

"No, no, my dear friend. They are a little exuberantat having broken the trammels of custom. That is all."

"You cannot think what I have had to put up with,madam. It has been a dreadful experience. Last night,after I had extinguished the candle in my bedroom, Iplaced my foot upon something smooth and hard, whichscuttled from under me. Imagine my horror! I lit thegas, and came upon a well-grown tortoise which Clara hasthought fit to introduce into the house. I call it afilthy custom to have such pets."

Mrs. Westmacott dropped him a little courtesy. "Thank you, sir," said she. "That is a nice little sidehit at my poor Eliza."

"I give you my word that I had forgotten about her,"cried the Doctor, flushing. "One such pet may no doubtbe endured, but two are more than I can bear. Ida has amonkey which lives on the curtain rod. It is a mostdreadful creature. It will remain absolutely motionlessuntil it sees that you have forgotten its presence, andthen it will suddenly bound from picture to picture allround the walls, and end by swinging down on thebell-rope and jumping on to the top of your head. Atbreakfast it stole a poached egg and daubed it all overthe door handle. Ida calls these outrages amusingtricks."

"Oh, all will come right," said the widowreassuringly.

"And Clara is as bad, Clara who used to be sogood and sweet, the very image of her poor mother. Sheinsists upon this preposterous scheme of being a pilot,and will talk of nothing but revolving lights and hiddenrocks, and codes of signals, and nonsense of the kind."

"But why preposterous?" asked his companion. "Whatnobler occupation can there be than that of stimulatingcommerce, and aiding the mariner to steer safely intoport? I should think your daughter admirably adapted forsuch duties."

"Then I must beg to differ from you, madam."

"Still, you are inconsistent."

"Excuse me, madam, I do not see the matter in thesame light. And I should be obliged to you if you woulduse your influence with my daughter to dissuade her."

"You wish to make me inconsistent too."

"Then you refuse?"

"I am afraid that I cannot interfere."

The Doctor was very angry. "Very well, madam," saidhe. "In that case I can only say that I have the honorto wish you a very good morning." He raised his broadstraw hat and strode away up the gravel path, while thewidow looked after him with twinkling eyes. She wassurprised herself to find that she liked the Doctorbetter the more masculine and aggressive he became. Itwas unreasonable and against all principle, and yet so itwas and no argument could mend the matter.

Very hot and angry, the Doctor retired into his roomand sat down to read his paper. Ida had retired, and thedistant wails of the bugle showed that she was upstairsin her boudoir. Clara sat opposite to him with herexasperating charts and her blue book. The Doctorglanced at her and his eyes remained fixed inastonishment upon the front of her skirt.

"My dear Clara," he cried, "you have torn yourskirt!"

His daughter laughed and smoothed out her frock. Tohis horror he saw the red plush of the chair where thedress ought to have been. "It is all torn!" hecried. "What have you done?"

"My dear papa!" said she, "what do you know about themysteries of ladies' dress? This is a divided skirt."

Then he saw that it was indeed so arranged, and thathis daughter was clad in a sort of loose, extremely longknickerbockers.

"It will be so convenient for my sea-boots," sheexplained.

Her father shook his head sadly. "Your dear motherwould not have liked it, Clara," said he.

For a moment the conspiracy was upon the point ofcollapsing. There was something in the gentleness of hisrebuke, and in his appeal to her mother, which broughtthe tears to her eyes, and in another instant she wouldhave been kneeling beside him with everythingconfessed, when the door flew open and her sister Idacame bounding into the room. She wore a short greyskirt, like that of Mrs. Westmacott, and she held it upin each hand and danced about among the furniture.

"I feel quite the Gaiety girl!" she cried. "Howdelicious it must be to be upon the stage! You can'tthink how nice this dress is, papa. One feels so free init. And isn't Clara charming?"

"Go to your room this instant and take it off!"thundered the Doctor. "I call it highly improper, and nodaughter of mine shall wear it."

"Papa! Improper! Why, it is the exact model of Mrs.Westmacott's."

"I say it is improper. And yours also, Clara! Yourconduct is really outrageous. You drive me out of thehouse. I am going to my club in town. I have no comfortor peace of mind in my own house. I will stand it nolonger. I may be late to-night--I shall go to theBritish Medical meeting. But when I return I shall hopeto find that you have reconsidered your conduct, and thatyou have shaken yourself clear of the perniciousinfluences which have recently made such an alteration inyour conduct." He seized his hat, slammed thedining-room door, and a few minutes later they heard thecrash of the big front gate.

"Victory, Clara, victory!" cried Ida, stillpirouetting around the furniture. "Did you hear what hesaid? Pernicious influences! Don't you understand,Clara? Why do you sit there so pale and glum? Why don'tyou get up and dance?"

"Oh, I shall be so glad when it is over, Ida. I dohate to give him pain. Surely he has learned now that itis very unpleasant to spend one's life with reformers."

"He has almost learned it, Clara. Just one morelittle lesson. We must not risk all at this lastmoment."

"What would you do, Ida? Oh, don't do anything toodreadful. I feel that we have gone too far already."

"Oh, we can do it very nicely. You see we are bothengaged and that makes it very easy. Harold will do whatyou ask him, especially as you have told him the reasonwhy, and my Charles will do it without even wanting toknow the reason. Now you know what Mrs. Westmacottthinks about the reserve of young ladies. Mere prudery,affectation, and a relic of the dark ages of the Zenana. Those were her words, were they not?"

"What then?"

"Well, now we must put it in practice. We arereducing all her other views to practice, and we must notshirk this one.

"But what would you do? Oh, don't look so wicked,Ida! You look like some evil little fairy, with yourgolden hair and dancing, mischievous eyes. I know thatyou are going to propose something dreadful!"

"We must give a little supper to-night."

"We? A supper!"

"Why not? Young gentlemen give suppers. Why notyoung ladies?"

"But whom shall we invite?"

"Why, Harold and Charles of course."

"And the Admiral and Mrs. Hay Denver?"

"Oh, no. That would be very old-fashioned. We must keep up with the times, Clara."

"But what can we give them for supper?"

"Oh, something with a nice, fast, rollicking,late-at-night-kind of flavor to it. Let me see! Champagne, of course--and oysters. Oysters will do. Inthe novels, all the naughty people take champagne andoysters. Besides, they won't need any cooking. How isyour pocket-money, Clara?"

"I have three pounds."

"And I have one. Four pounds. I have no idea howmuch champagne costs. Have you?"

"Not the slightest."

"How many oysters does a man eat?"

"I can't imagine."

"I'll write and ask Charles. No, I won't. I'll askJane. Ring for her, Clara. She has been a cook, and issure to know.

Jane, on being cross-questioned, refused to commitherself beyond the statement that it depended upon thegentleman, and also upon the oysters. The unitedexperience of the kitchen, however, testified that threedozen was a fair provision.

"Then we shall have eight dozen altogether, said Ida,jotting down all her requirements upon a sheet of paper. "And two pints of champagne. And some brown bread, andvinegar, and pepper. That's all, I think. It is not sovery difficult to give a supper after all, is it, Clara?"

"I don't like it, Ida. It seems to me to be so veryindelicate."

"But it is needed to clinch the matter. No, no,there is no drawing back now, Clara, or we shall ruineverything. Papa is sure to come back by the 9:45. Hewill reach the door at 10. We must have everything readyfor him. Now, just sit down at once, and ask Harold tocome at nine o'clock, and I shall do the same toCharles."

The two invitations were dispatched, received andaccepted. Harold was already a confidant, and heunderstood that this was some further development of theplot. As to Charles, he was so accustomed to feminineeccentricity, in the person of his aunt, that the onlything which could surprise him would be a rigidobservance of etiquette. At nine o'clock theyentered the dining-room of Number 2, to find the masterof the house absent, a red-shaded lamp, a snowy cloth, apleasant little feast, and the two whom they would havechosen, as their companions. A merrier party never met,and the house rang with their laughter and their chatter.

"It is three minutes to ten," cried Clara, suddenly,glancing at the clock.

"Good gracious! So it is! Now for our littletableau!" Ida pushed the champagne bottles obtrusivelyforward, in the direction of the door, and scatteredoyster shells over the cloth.

"Have you your pipe, Charles?"

"My pipe! Yes."

"Then please smoke it. Now don't argue about it, butdo it, for you will ruin the effect otherwise."

The large man drew out a red case, and extracted agreat yellow meerschaum, out of which, a moment later, hewas puffing thick wreaths of smoke. Harold had lit acigar, and both the girls had cigarettes.

"That looks very nice and emancipated," said Ida,glancing round. "Now I shall lie on this sofa. So! Now, Charles, just sit here, and throw your armcarelessly over the back of the sofa. No, don't stopsmoking. I like it. Clara, dear, put your feet upon thecoal-scuttle, and do try to look a littledissipated. I wish we could crown ourselves withflowers. There are some lettuces on the sideboard. Ohdear, here he is! I hear his key." She began to sing inher high, fresh voice a little snatch from a French song,with a swinging tra la-la chorus.

The Doctor had walked home from the station in apeaceable and relenting frame of mind, feeling that,perhaps, he had said too much in the morning, that hisdaughters had for years been models in every way, andthat, if there had been any change of late, it was, asthey said themselves, on account of their anxiety tofollow his advice and to imitate Mrs. Westmacott. Hecould see clearly enough now that that advice was unwise,and that a world peopled with Mrs. Westmacotts would notbe a happy or a soothing one. It was he who was,himself, to blame, and he was grieved by the thought thatperhaps his hot words had troubled and saddened his twogirls.

This fear, however, was soon dissipated. As heentered his hall he heard the voice of Ida uplifted in arollicking ditty, and a very strong smell of tobacco wasborne to his nostrils. He threw open the dining-roomdoor, and stood aghast at the scene which met his eyes.

The room was full of the blue wreaths of smoke, andthe lamp-light shone through the thin haze upongold-topped bottles, plates, napkins, and a litterof oyster shells and cigarettes. Ida, flushed andexcited, was reclining upon the settee, a wine-glass ather elbow, and a cigarette between her fingers, whileCharles Westmacott sat beside her, with his arm thrownover the head of the sofa, with the suggestion of acaress. On the other side of the room, Clara waslounging in an arm-chair, with Harold beside her, bothsmoking, and both with wine-glasses beside them. TheDoctor stood speechless in the doorway, staring at theBacchanalian scene.

"Come in, papa! Do!" cried Ida. "Won't you have aglass of champagne?"

"Pray excuse me," said her father, coldly, "I feelthat I am intruding. I did not know that you wereentertaining. Perhaps you will kindly let me knowwhen you have finished. You will find me in my study." He ignored the two young men completely, and, closing thedoor, retired, deeply hurt and mortified, to his room. A quarter of an hour afterwards he heard the door slam,and his two daughters came to announce that the guestswere gone.

"Guests! Whose guests?" he cried angrily. "What isthe meaning of this exhibition?"

"We have been giving a little supper, papa. Theywere our guests."

"Oh, indeed!" The Doctor laughed sarcastically. "You think it right, then, to entertain youngbachelors late at night, to, smoke and drink with them,to---- Oh, that I should ever have lived to blush for myown daughters! I thank God that your dear mother neversaw the day."

"Dearest papa," cried Clara, throwing her arms abouthim. "Do not be angry with us. If you understood all,you would see that there is no harm in it."

"No harm, miss! Who is the best judge of that?"

"Mrs. Westmacott," suggested Ida, slyly.

The Doctor sprang from his chair. "Confound Mrs.Westmacott!" he cried, striking frenziedly into the airwith his hands. "Am I to hear of nothing but this woman? Is she to confront me at every turn? I will endure it nolonger."

"But it was your wish, papa."

"Then I will tell you now what my second and wiserwish is, and we shall see if you will obey it as you havethe first."

"Of course we will, papa."

"Then my wish is, that you should forget these odiousnotions which you have imbibed, that you should dress andact as you used to do, before ever you saw this woman,and that, in future, you confine your intercourse withher to such civilities as are necessary betweenneighbors."

"We are to give up Mrs. Westmacott?"

"Or give up me."

"Oh, dear dad, how can you say anything so cruel?"cried Ida, burrowing her towsy golden hair into herfather's shirt front, while Clara pressed her cheekagainst his whisker. "Of course we shall give her up, ifyou prefer it."

"Of course we shall, papa."

The Doctor patted the two caressing heads. "Theseare my own two girls again," he cried. "It has been myfault as much as yours. I have been astray, and you havefollowed me in my error. It was only by seeing yourmistake that I have become conscious of my own. Let usset it aside, and neither say nor think anything moreabout it."