The Figure in the Carpet | Page 3

right time; but later on I was glad not to have
spoken, for when on our return we clustered at tea I perceived Lady
Jane, who had not been out with us, brandishing The Middle with her
longest arm. She had taken it up at her leisure; she was delighted with
what she had found, and I saw that, as a mistake in a man may often be
a felicity in a woman, she would practically do for me what I hadn't
been able to do for myself. "Some sweet little truths that needed to be
spoken," I heard her declare, thrusting the paper at rather a bewildered
couple by the fireplace. She grabbed it away from them again on the
reappearance of Hugh Vereker, who after our walk had been upstairs to
change something. "I know you don't in general look at this kind of
thing, but it's an occasion really for doing so. You HAVEN'T seen it?
Then you must. The man has actually got AT you, at what I always feel,
you know." Lady Jane threw into her eyes a look evidently intended to
give an idea of what she always felt; but she added that she couldn't
have expressed it. The man in the paper expressed it in a striking
manner. "Just see there, and there, where I've dashed it, how he brings
it out." She had literally marked for him the brightest patches of my
prose, and if I was a little amused Vereker himself may well have been.
He showed how much he was when before us all Lady Jane wanted to
read something aloud. I liked at any rate the way he defeated her
purpose by jerking the paper affectionately out of her clutch. He'd take

it upstairs with him and look at it on going to dress. He did this half an
hour later--I saw it in his hand when he repaired to his room. That was
the moment at which, thinking to give her pleasure, I mentioned to
Lady Jane that I was the author of the review. I did give her pleasure, I
judged, but perhaps not quite so much as I had expected. If the author
was "only me" the thing didn't seem quite so remarkable. Hadn't I had
the effect rather of diminishing the lustre of the article than of adding to
my own? Her ladyship was subject to the most extraordinary drops. It
didn't matter; the only effect I cared about was the one it would have on
Vereker up there by his bedroom fire.
At dinner I watched for the signs of this impression, tried to fancy some
happier light in his eyes; but to my disappointment Lady Jane gave me
no chance to make sure. I had hoped she'd call triumphantly down the
table, publicly demand if she hadn't been right. The party was
large--there were people from outside as well, but I had never seen a
table long enough to deprive Lady Jane of a triumph. I was just
reflecting in truth that this interminable board would deprive ME of
one when the guest next me, dear woman--she was Miss Poyle, the
vicar's sister, a robust unmodulated person--had the happy inspiration
and the unusual courage to address herself across it to Vereker, who
was opposite, but not directly, so that when he replied they were both
leaning forward. She enquired, artless body, what he thought of Lady
Jane's "panegyric," which she had read--not connecting it however with
her right-hand neighbour; and while I strained my ear for his reply I
heard him, to my stupefaction, call back gaily, his mouth full of bread:
"Oh, it's all right--the usual twaddle!"
I had caught Vereker's glance as he spoke, but Miss Poyle's surprise
was a fortunate cover for my own. "You mean he doesn't do you
justice?" said the excellent woman.
Vereker laughed out, and I was happy to be able to do the same. "It's a
charming article," he tossed us.
Miss Poyle thrust her chin half across the cloth. "Oh, you're so deep!"
she drove home.
"As deep as the ocean! All I pretend is that the author doesn't see--" But
a dish was at this point passed over his shoulder, and we had to wait
while he helped himself.
"Doesn't see what?" my neighbour continued.

"Doesn't see anything."
"Dear me--how very stupid!"
"Not a bit," Vereker laughed main. "Nobody does."
The lady on his further side appealed to him, and Miss Poyle sank back
to myself. "Nobody sees anything!" she cheerfully announced; to which
I replied that I had often thought so too, but had somehow taken the
thought for a proof on my own part of a tremendous eye. I didn't tell
her the article was mine; and I observed that Lady Jane, occupied