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that they must seem shadowy。 I have been able to invest them with none
of those characteristics which make the persons of a book exist with a real
life of their own； and； wondering if the fault is mine； I rack my brains to
remember idiosyncrasies which might lend them vividness。 I feel that by
dwelling on some trick of speech or some queer habit I should be able to
give them a significance peculiar to themselves。 As they stand they are
like the figures in an old tapestry； they do not separate themselves from
the background； and at a distance seem to lose their pattern； so that you
have little but a pleasing piece of colour。 My only excuse is that the
impression they made on me was no other。 There was just that
shadowiness about them which you find in people whose lives are part of
the social organism； so that they exist in it and by it only。 They are like
cells in the body； essential； but； so long as they remain healthy； engulfed in
the momentous whole。 The Stricklands were an average family in the
middle class。 A pleasant； hospitable woman； with a harmless craze for
the small lions of literary society； a rather dull man； doing his duty in that
state of life in which a merciful Providence had placed him； two nice…
looking； healthy children。 Nothing could be more ordinary。 I do not
know that there was anything about them to excite the attention of the
curious。
When I reflect on all that happened later； I ask myself if I was thick…
witted not to see that there was in Charles Strickland at least something
out of the common。 Perhaps。 I think that I have gathered in the years that
intervene between then and now a fair knowledge of mankind； but even if
when I first met the Stricklands I had the experience which I have now； I
do not believe that I should have judged them differently。 But because I
have learnt that man is incalculable； I should not at this time of day be so
surprised by the news that reached me when in the early autumn I returned
to London。
I had not been back twenty…four hours before I ran across Rose
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Waterford in Jermyn Street。
〃You look very gay and sprightly；〃 I said。 〃What's the matter with
you？〃
She smiled； and her eyes shone with a malice I knew already。 It meant
that she had heard some scandal about one of her friends； and the instinct
of the literary woman was all alert。
〃You did meet Charles Strickland； didn't you？〃
Not only her face； but her whole body； gave a sense of alacrity。 I
nodded。 I wondered if the poor devil had been hammered on the Stock
Exchange or run over by an omnibus。
〃Isn't it dreadful？ He's run away from his wife。〃
Miss Waterford certainly felt that she could not do her subject justice
on the curb of Jermyn Street； and so； like an artist； flung the bare fact at
me and declared that she knew no details。 I could not do her the injustice
of supposing that so trifling a circumstance would have prevented her
from giving them； but she was obstinate。
〃I tell you I know nothing；〃 she said； in reply to my agitated questions；
and then； with an airy shrug of the shoulders： 〃I believe that a young
person in a city tea…shop has left her situation。〃
She flashed a smile at me； and； protesting an engagement with her
dentist； jauntily walked on。 I was more interested than distressed。 In
those days my experience of life at first hand was small； and it excited me
to come upon an incident among people I knew of the same sort as I had
read in books。 I confess that time has now accustomed me to incidents of
this character among my acquaintance。 But I was a little shocked。
Strickland was certainly forty； and I thought it disgusting that a man of his
age should concern himself with affairs of the heart。 With the
superciliousness of extreme youth； I put thirty…five as the utmost limit at
which a man might fall in love without making a fool of himself。 And
this news was slightly disconcerting to me personally； because I had
written from the country to Mrs。 Strickland； announcing my return； and
had added that unless I heard from her to the contrary； I would come on a
certain day to drink a dish of tea with her。 This was the very day； and I had
received no word from Mrs。 Strickland。 Did she want to see me or did
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she not？ It was likely enough that in the agitation of the moment my
note had escaped her memory。 Perhaps I should be wiser not to go。 On
the other hand； she might wish to keep the affair quiet； and it might be
highly indiscreet on my part to give any sign that this strange news had
reached me。 I was torn between the fear of hurting a nice woman's
feelings and the fear of being in the way。 I felt she must be suffering； and
I did not want to see a pain which I could not help； but in my heart was a
desire； that I felt a little ashamed of； to see how she was taking it。 I did
not know what to do。
Finally it occurred to me that I would call as though nothing had
happened； and send a message in by the maid asking Mrs。 Strickland if it
was convenient for her to see me。 This would give her the opportunity to
send me away。 But I was overwhelmed with embarrassment when I said
to the maid the phrase I had prepared； and while I waited for the answer in
a dark passage I had to call up all my strength of mind not to bolt。 The
maid came back。 Her manner suggested to my excited fancy a complete
knowledge of the domestic calamity。
〃Will you come this way； sir？〃 she said。
I followed her into the drawing…room。 The blinds were partly drawn
to darken the room； and Mrs。 Strickland was sitting with her back to the
light。 Her brother…in…law； Colonel MacAndrew； stood in front of the
fireplace； warming his back at an unlit fire。 To myself my entrance seemed
excessively awkward。 I imagined that my arrival had taken them by
surprise； and Mrs。 Strickland had let me come in only because she had
forgotten to put me off。 I fancied that the Colonel resented the
interruption。
〃I wasn't quite sure if you expected me；〃 I said； trying to seem
unconcerned。
〃Of course I did。 Anne will bring the tea in a minute。〃
Even in the darkened room； I could not help seeing that Mrs。
Strickland's face was all swollen with tears。 Her skin； never very good；
was earthy。
〃You remember my brother…in…law； don't you？ You met at dinner； just
before the holidays。〃
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We shook hands。 I felt so shy that I could think of nothing to say； but
Mrs。 Strickland came to my rescue。 She asked me what I had been doing
with myself during the summer； and with this help I managed to make
some conversation till tea was brought in。 The Colonel asked for a
whisky…and…soda。
〃You'd better have one too； Amy；〃 he said。
〃No； I prefer tea。〃
This was the first suggestion that anything untoward had happened。 I
took no notice； and did my best to engage Mrs。 Strickland in talk。 The
Colonel； still standing in front of the fireplace； uttered no word。 I
wondered how soon I could decently take my leave； and I asked myself
why on earth Mrs。 Strickland had allowed me to come。 There were no
flowers； and various knick…knacks； put away during the summer； had not
been replaced； there was something cheerless and stiff about the room
which had always seemed so friendly； it gave you an odd feeling； as
though someone were lying dead on the other side of