Search:
A \ B \ C \ D \ E \ F \ G \ H \ I \ J \ K \ L \ M \ N \ O \ P \ R \ S \ T \ U \ V \ W \Z

Garman and Worse by Alexander Lange Kielland

A >> Alexander Lange Kielland >> Garman and Worse

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17



"It was the big man," answered the child, looking at the cup with eager
eyes.

"The big man is Jacob Worse, and the little man is yourself, Mr.
Delphin," explained Fanny, laughing. "My son's manners are not yet quite
perfect. Did the big man ask who was up here with mother?"

"He asked if Aunt Rachel was in town," answered the child, putting out
his hand for the cup.

Madeleine did not exactly see what the others found so amusing, but she
joined in the laugh, because little Freddy was her darling.

"You are a dangerous woman," said George Delphin, as he took his leave;
"I must go and warn my friend Worse."

"Yes, you dare!" cried Fanny, holding up her taper finger threateningly
at him.

There was something which Madeleine could not exactly define, that she
did not quite like, about Fanny. She noticed it most when they were in
the society of men, but even when they were alone the same unpleasant
manner would sometimes appear. She was not accustomed to all these
questions, innuendoes, and allusions, which always seemed to take the
same direction; but at last she became so fascinated by her lively and
talkative friend, that she began to lose some of her self-possession,
and a feeling of anxiety which she could not comprehend, came over her
lest some fate was in store for her which she was unable to avert.

Fanny stood by the window, looking at Delphin as he left the house. He
was not such a little man, after all! He had a nice figure, and his
clothes fitted as if he had been melted into them. There was an air of
distinction about his black moustache and curly hair. He was, in fact, a
man that you would look twice at anywhere. It was wonderful she had
never remarked it before!

Fanny turned to Madeleine, who was clearing the table, and observed her
narrowly.




CHAPTER VIII.


"I notice, Mr. Johnsen," said Rachel, "that in almost all the
conversations we have had on serious subjects, we seem to come to some
point or another which all at once gives rise to a whole army of doubts
and questions in us both; or perhaps, to speak more correctly, in you
rather than in myself."

"The reason is that your extraordinary acuteness leads the conversation
into certain lines of thought," answered the inspector.

Rachel paused for a moment, and looked at him. At every turn of their
interesting acquaintance she had been on her guard against any word
which had the slightest resemblance to a compliment. But when she saw
before her the earnest and somewhat plain features of her friend, she
felt that her caution was unnecessary, and she answered, "It does not
require any extraordinary acuteness to perceive that when two people
make an attempt in common to thoroughly understand any subject, they are
more likely to be successful than if each were to work for himself. But
what appears to me most remarkable is really this, that you did not long
ago work out these problems for yourself."

"You have opened my eyes to many things which hitherto--"

"But hear what I have to say," broke in Rachel, with some impatience.
"We have been going backwards and forwards here certainly for half an
hour, talking about the many difficulties which must beset a clergyman,
who is at the same time the servant of both God and the State, and
continually, or at least several times, you have told me that I was
right, or that you had not thought of such and such things before, or
something of that sort." Rachel stopped in the broad path between the
hedges in front of the house, where they were walking, and, looking him
full in the face, said, "How is it possible, Mr. Johnsen, that you who
have studied theology, and intend in the course of time to take priest's
orders, have not already long ago made the subject clear to yourself,
and taken your line accordingly?"

Johnsen's eyes fell before her clear and penetrating glance as he
answered, "I have been quite enough troubled by doubts and anxieties,
which are things none of us can escape; but if it now appears to
you--and I must confess that it is the fact--that I have neglected
certain points, I must plead that this negligence has been caused by my
peculiar education. I come from a poor home, a very poor home"--he
seemed to regain his confidence as he spoke--"and I have raised myself,
without any special abilities, by sheer hard work. My time has,
therefore, been fully occupied during my studies, and, as far as my
opinion goes, a person who is working in real earnest has but little
time for speculation. Besides, there is something about the subject
itself, and about the men with whom one is brought into
contact--something, what shall I call it?--something soothing,
reassuring, which has the effect of making the doubts which from time to
time appear bring, as it were, their own solution with them. But life's
experience, and even more, my aquaintance with you, Miss Garman, has
caused me to waver on many points."

"Do you remember our first conversation?" she asked.

"I don't think I have forgotten a single word that has passed between
us."

"It was one of the first Sundays you were at Sandsgaard."

"The conversation at dinner turned upon the subject of war. Was not that
the day you mean?" asked he.

"Yes, exactly," answered Rachel. "Mr. Delphin was maintaining, in his
foolish, superficial way, that the spirit of the time would soon get rid
of the evil of war, if we could only have done with kings and priests.
You may remember Mr. Martens got quite excited, and insisted that
priests were distinctly men of peace, and that their work was the work
of peace. And then Mr. Delphin made the adroit answer, that any one who
liked could go to church any Sunday, and hear how devoutly this man of
peace, Mr. Martens, prays for the arms of the country by land and by
sea."

"I remember it very well," answered Johnsen, with a smile; "it was just
there I joined in the conversation."

"Yes; you declared that you would never, if you were ordained, mention
the arms of the country in your prayers."

"Neither will I; nothing shall ever make me."

Rachel looked at him: he was in just the humour she liked to see him.

"I bring this to your recollection," she went on, "because I know now
that there are many other duties which fall to the lot of a clergyman,
that you will not be able altogether to reconcile with your convictions.
In the course of our conversations you have expressed many decided
opinions--for instance, about the Marriage Service, about Absolution,
Confirmation, and several other matters; so that it now appears clear to
me that you must either give up the idea of being ordained, or else be
false to yourself."

"False to myself I cannot be," cried he; "I would rather give up my
future prospects."

"But is that sufficient?"

"I don't understand you, Miss Garman."

"Do you think that you would be doing yourself justice by thus evading
the responsibility that your convictions give rise to? If I were a
man"--Rachel drew herself up--"I would go and seek the conflict, and not
shirk it."

"Neither will I shirk it, Miss Garman," answered Johnsen.

"I hope you won't; there are quite enough who do." She looked towards
the house to which they were approaching, and through the open window
saw Fanny and Delphin carrying on a flirtation. Pastor Martens and
Madeleine were going towards the croquet lawn, and Jacob Worse stood
watching them with a cigar in his mouth.

Rachel turned quickly round to her companion and said, "I don't know
anything more despicable than when a man does not dare, either by word
or deed, to declare plainly what he feels in his inner consciousness to
be in opposition with generally received opinions. A man who sneaks
through life in this manner is, in my opinion, a coward."

She went towards the house, and Johnsen remained standing for a moment,
and then wandered down the path again, lost in deep thought.

Jacob Worse said to her as she passed him, "Would you like to join the
croquet? I hardly think it is right to leave your cousin to play alone
with the chaplain."

"I think you might have spared yourself that well-meant remark, Mr.
Worse," answered Rachel, in a tone which made him look at her with
astonishment. "It seems to me, on the contrary, that Madeleine is in
very good company--just the company that suits her."

"I beg your pardon," answered Worse, good humouredly. "I did not mean to
be indiscreet; but I cannot help feeling that your cousin is in reality
of such a lively nature, it is hard for her to find vent for her
spirits."

"I did not know that Madeleine had such a concealed fund of spirits. As
a general rule, I do not much care for people who are afraid to show
their feelings."

"Afraid?" asked he, in astonishment.

"Yes; I said afraid. What else is it but want of courage which makes a
man sit down quietly and hide his thoughts, conceal his convictions,
live a false life, and play a part from morning to night? It were better
to do like your friend out there"--and she gave a toss of her head
towards Delphin--"to talk so grandly about one's principles, and to
illustrate them by paradoxes and witticisms."

Jacob Worse now saw that he had found Rachel in a more earnest mood than
he had expected.

"I have often observed," said he, seriously, "that you always think that
it is a man's duty to speak out boldly when he finds his convictions are
in danger; but allow me to explain--"

"I don't want to hear any explanations," rejoined Rachel, "and you are
not bound to give me any; but I repeat what I said. It is cowardly."

She regretted the word the moment it was spoken. She said it because she
had just used the same expression in her conversation with Johnsen; but,
however, without saying anything further, she went into the house.

Jacob Worse remained thoughtfully contemplating his cigar. At last,
then, the storm had burst. The ill humour he had so long noticed in her
had found vent. He knew she meant what she said. She thought he was a
coward. There had hitherto been a kind of friendly comradeship between
them, which excluded any attempts at courtesy. She had told him that
their friendship must be on this footing, if he wished it to continue.
He had accepted his position, and they had often talked freely together,
but latterly less than had formerly been the case.

Jacob Worse turned round, and found himself face to face with Mr.
Johnsen, who was coming up the path with his eyes fixed on the ground.
He at once perceived that here was to be found the cause for Rachel's
extraordinary conduct, and the discovery did not tend to put him in a
better humour.

Mr. Hiorth the magistrate, and Mr. Aalbom the schoolmaster, were seated
together in the old summer-house near the pond. They were generally to
be found together on these Sunday afternoons at Sandsgaard. The
opportunity for talking scandal was one not to be neglected.

Hiorth's family had been for a long time in the service of the State, a
fact of which he was not a little proud; and after his daughter's
marriage with Morten Garman, who was one of the most eligible young men
of the district, his somewhat sensitive feelings began to revolt against
the self-satisfaction which the Garman family seemed to have inherited
with their solid prosperity.

Aalbom was, therefore, not afraid to give free play to his bitter
tongue, and after a good dinner he was just in the vein for so doing.

"They are asleep," said he. "I dare bet they are both of them fast
asleep. Have you not noticed that both the Consul and his brother
disappear after dinner every Sunday?"

"Yes, I have remarked that I don't generally see them when the coffee
comes; but it is only for about a quarter of an hour," answered the
magistrate, as he brushed some cigar-ash off his coat, just where his
new North Star Order hung.

"They are not treating you properly," continued Aalbom; "especially when
Richard calls himself an _attache_, and has some pretensions to good
manners."

"Oh! well, as far as he is concerned," answered the other, "he means to
show his contempt for people in office. Richard Garman, like all people
who have led shady lives, is an ultra-Radical."

"No doubt, sir. And I am not very certain about the Consul either; he
has no respect for a cultivated intellect."

"But can you expect anything better from a man in trade?"

"A shopkeeper, you might say," whispered Aalbom, looking cautiously
around. "There, now," he added, "I declare if it is not raining! Just
what one might have expected. We had a little sunshine in the morning,
and so of course it must rain in the afternoon. What a climate! what a
country!" and, amid a torrent of ejaculations and anathemas, they both
went hurriedly round the pond, and reached the house just as the rain
began to fall in earnest.

The company generally sat downstairs when the weather was fine, in the
room with the French windows opening into the garden; but now, as it had
begun to rain, and the wind began to rustle through the flowers and the
Virginian creeper on the railings, they went upstairs.

Whether it was that the two Garmans had really wished to show their
contempt for people in office by taking a nap, or whether their absence
had been accidental, they had both returned to the company, and Richard
was standing with his back to the fireplace, and the Consul was under
the old clock, in conversation with Jacob Worse.

It was generally supposed that it was to these Sunday afternoon
conversations with Worse that the Consul owed his perfect knowledge of
every event that took place in the town.

Madeleine was sitting by the window, looking out at the rain. She was
quite astonished to find how agreeable Pastor Martens could be. Her
knowledge of clergymen had hitherto been confined to her father's
descriptions of them, which were amusing enough, but far from
flattering.

But Mr. Martens was quite lively, if not merry. He had not attempted to
say anything serious, and she had nothing against him except that he hit
very hard at croquet; but he played really well, and seemed to enjoy it.
It was a pity that the rain had come before they had finished their
game.

It was one of those evenings when it is not dark enough to light the
candles, but is still too dark for any one to see to work; and a wet
evening, even in summer, can become very tiresome before lights, cards,
and such like make their appearance.

Mrs. Garman and Mrs. Aalbom sat gossiping on the sofa; and Fanny, who in
the course of the day had received more than one reproving look from her
mother-in-law for flirting with Delphin, was now doing penance with the
old ladies, to whom Pastor Martens had also attached himself.

Quite a group had gathered round the fireplace by the _attache_,
consisting of the magistrate, Mr. Aalbom, and Delphin. Morten had
disappeared, no one knew whither.

Delphin was anxious to slip away, so as to get an opportunity of having
a chat with Madeleine; but Richard would not let him go--he was just the
man after the _attache's_ heart. He reminded him of his own youth, with
his polite assurance and ready wit. The old diplomatist had a weakness
for getting up little disputes among his acquaintances, while he
himself, by alternately assisting the two sides, took care to preserve
the balance between them, and maintain a good tone in the discussion.
From this point of view George Delphin was quite a treasure. He had just
that irritating manner which sometimes became very nearly offensive, but
was at the same time so polished, that it would indicate a want of good
breeding to be annoyed at it. It was thus a real treat for Uncle Richard
to see the magistrate, with all his aplomb, writhe under Delphin's
adroit and sarcastic rejoinders. Aalbom, on the other hand, was not so
well bred, and often, therefore, broke through conventionalities, to the
great delight of both the _attache_ and the magistrate.

Uncle Richard had on this occasion led the conversation in a direction
which he knew would be at the same time entertaining and interesting.
The subject was the position of the country with regard to other
nations. Mr. Hiorth had been in Paris under Louis Philippe, and Delphin
had two years previously made a summer tour through Europe, while the
schoolmaster had been at the University of Copenhagen. Delphin's account
of his travels was most animated, and culminated in the greatest
admiration for Paris. The magistrate maintained that Paris was a
dangerous, restless, and vicious town. This was the result of his
observation in 1847, and it was generally allowed that since that time
it had become even worse. Aalbom vainly tried to get in something about
Thorwaldsen's museum.

The conversation began to get lively. The _attache_ distributed his aid
with the greatest impartiality, and winked knowingly at Delphin, when to
all appearances he had quite gone over to the magistrate's side. Each
point as it arose was discussed with the greatest eagerness, until they
arrived at woman's position in society. The magistrate was very strong
on the subject of French immorality, but he was unluckily obliged to
curtail his remarks on account of the ladies. Aalbom, who was able to
take up a firm position on the ground of his acquaintance with "The
Origin and History of the French Language," came to the assistance of
his friend with a string of the most frightful quotations from Rabelais
to Zola. Both then began to compare the women of their own country with
those of Northern Europe generally, and managed to make the comparison a
very favourable one, holding up their countrywomen as veritable
heroines; and as both Richard Garman and Delphin were far too gallant to
dispute their theory, so the other two had full enjoyment of their
triumph.

Jacob Worse now got up and joined the group. He had not been able to
help partly overhearing the conversation, and ruffled as he was by
Rachel's accusations, he could no longer keep silence. The Consul smiled
as he joined the others, and said in a low tone, "I will keep my eye
upon you, and if it gets too hot, will come to your assistance."

From the moment Jacob Worse began to take part in the conversation, the
_attache_ felt that the reins were slipping out of his hands. Worse went
at it hammer and tongs; not that he raised his voice, or used unbecoming
expressions, but his views were so subversive and so original, that the
others were forthwith reduced to silence. At the first onset he brushed
aside all the nonsense about Norwegian women, and that sort of thing,
and went on boldly to consider the position of woman generally with
regard to man. The magistrate asked him superciliously if he meant them
to understand that he was in favour of emancipation; and when Worse
answered that he was, the magistrate asked him with a smile how he
thought he would be treated by an "emancipated wife." Worse, however,
maintained that it was not a question how a man was treated, but what
the relation really was which existed between the two. The time must be
drawing to a close when the sole consideration was, what a man found
most agreeable, and it was to be hoped that the young men of the future
would be ashamed to argue from that basis. This was plainly a hit, not
only at the magistrate, but at all married men of his generation. Aalbom
protested warmly against Worse's theory, and his wife could be heard
ejaculating in the distance. Pastor Martens now came and joined the
disputants.

Jacob Worse was becoming excited; he spoke hurriedly, and his tone
showed that he only restrained himself by an effort. On what absurd
principles, he maintained, was the education of women generally
conducted! How many thousands ended their career, worn out by the
drudgery of household duties! Their intellect was wasted, and their
strength exhausted for nothing. It was quite easy to talk so glibly of
purity in a state of society where man was to know everything and have a
right to everything, while woman was to be debarred from all
intellectual knowledge.

At the first pause in the conversation, Aalbom came to the front as
woman's champion, and the magistrate and Martens joined him. The
conversation now waxed warmer, and Delphin wandered off to Madeleine,
leaving Worse struggling alone against the arguments which both sides
brought to bear on him. The disputants became heated and excited, and
all went on talking at once, without giving time for the others to
finish their sentences.

The _attache_ stood with his hands behind his back, regarding with
apprehension the storm he had raised, and which was now out of his power
to quell.

Mr. Johnsen made several attempts to join in the conversation, which
had, however, become so warm that no one could be got to listen to his
measured and carefully worded remarks. Rachel followed the arguments
with the greatest interest, but she could not help feeling annoyed. She
was annoyed when the others said anything stupid, and even still more so
when she was obliged to confess that Worse was in the right. Everything
seemed to irritate her. She could not bear to hear these men discussing
her and her position as if she were some strange animal, and without
ever having the grace to ask her opinion. The conversation had now gone
far beyond woman's position, although Jacob Worse tried in vain to keep
them to the point. Off they went through recent literature, foreign
politics, home politics, ever with increasing earnestness, and with the
same division of parties. Latterly the pastor had come more to the
front. Aalbom's voice began to fail him, and the magistrate was unable
any longer to get beyond the beginning of his sentences, and could do
little else than point to his decorations and say, "For God and the
King!" And before they knew where they were, they found themselves on
the subject of modern scepticism.

Jacob Worse protested against this digression; but Martens, whose voice
was just as calm as when he began, maintained that this lay at the
bottom of the whole question, and that modern unbelief formed, as it
were, a background to all the questions they had been discussing, and
that all the arguments that were adduced from a "certain point of view"
had their roots in this very principle.

The magistrate and Aalbom were agreed on this point, but Jacob Worse,
with a pale face and excited gestures, began, "Gentlemen--!"

The Consul here made a sign to Miss Cordsen, who opened the doors into
the dining-room, from whence the bright light shone suddenly into the
room. The disputants only now remarked that it had become quite dark as
they were talking. The company then adjourned to the dining-room,
thankful enough to have a little breathing-time, but the voices still
retained traces of the excitement.

"Where did you get those splendid lobsters, mother?" asked Morten, who
had suddenly turned up, no one knew from whence. He never missed his
meals.

"Uncle Richard brought them," answered Mrs. Garman. "I think he has a
fisherman at Bratvold, who always brings him the finest lobsters that
are to be got." She had taken care to help herself to some of the coral,
which looked most appetizing in its contrast to the white meat.

Madeleine got almost as red as the lobster, and bent down over her
teacup. Per, and everything connected with her old home, now seemed so
distant, that when she thought upon her original intention of making an
open confession, the idea seemed mere folly. She was indeed thankful
that none of those around her guessed how near she had been to such an
absurd engagement.

The two brothers, when they were going to bed that evening, had a chat
over the events of the day. Richard's room opened into the Consul's, and
notwithstanding that his habit of smoking cigarettes was an abomination
to his brother, the door between the rooms always remained open at
night. Each had his own particular method of undressing. The Consul took
off each garment in due order, folded it up, and laid it in its
appointed place. Richard, on the other hand, tore off his things and
threw them about anyhow. He then wrapped himself in his dressing-gown,
and sat down and smoked till his brother was ready.

"He is the very devil, that Worse!" said the _attache_, leaning back in
the armchair; "but it does me good to hear any one speak out his mind so
plainly."

"He is too violent; he forgets conventionalities."

"It is possible to have too much conventionality. It is well for young
people to air their views; it does them good."

"What nonsense you are talking, Dick!" cried the Consul, entering his
brother's room. "What the deuce would become of the world if youngsters
were allowed to jabber like that on every possible occasion?"

But Uncle Richard was not nervous when they were _tete-a-tete_. He got
slowly up from his chair, and let his dressing-gown slip off his
shoulders; and the two brothers now stood opposite each other, in very
different _deshabille_. The young Consul was in his night-shirt, and a
pair of flannel drawers tied at the knees with broad tape. His thin legs
were thrust into long grey stockings, which Miss Cordsen alone knew how
to knit. Richard had a pair of Turkish slippers, thread stockings, which
fitted closely to his well-formed leg, and a shirt of fine material
stiffly starched, in which he always slept. There were none of his
brother's failings which the Consul disliked more than this.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17
Copyright (c) 2007. bestextbooks.com. All rights reserved.

Charlotte Higgins: The Diary's favourite holiday-season pastime was smelling perfumes
Articles published by guardian.co.uk Books

Charlotte Higgins: Bennett, Burnham and the Booker

The Diary's favourite holiday-season pastime was smelling perfumes, inspired by its favourite holiday-season book: the virtuosic Perfumes: the Guide, by Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez, which offers a critical analysis of 1,500 fragrances. Do not scoff: this is a branch of aesthetics as worthy as any other, and Turin and Sanchez's prose is a delight, with scents related to the orchestration of Ravel or to Bruckner symphonies.

In its haunting of London's perfumery halls, the Diary ran across novelist Philip Hensher, buying Margaret Thatcher's favourite scent Mitsouko, and Sandy Nairne, director of the National Portrait Gallery, who wears Creed's Bois du Portugal. Mitsouko is Turin's favourite perfume. However, he is scathing of Bois du Portugal: "Close in intent but not in richness or quality to de Nicolaï's divine New York, which is at once cheaper and vastly better."

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds

Duncan Campbell on what happened when musician Manu Chao took his own train through Colombia

There's an annual dose of much-needed sanity in the 2008 diary of Alan Bennett, published in the first London Review of Books of the year. He includes an amusing account of a Downing Street reception he attended for Fanny Waterman, founder of the Leeds piano competition. Andy Burnham, the culture secretary, is described thus: "with his heavy dark hair [he] looks as if he's strayed out of an early Pasolini movie". I hope Burn-ham is an LRB subscriber, because this may well be the most erotically charged thing anyone ever writes about him.

Bennett earlier lets drop that he was once invited, though declined, to act as a Booker prize judge, thus putting paid to Martyn Goff's claim that no one has ever refused the chance to sit on the panel. Other Bennettiana: he is now the proud owner of an overcoat made by Proust's tailor.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds