So Horace， who had always been friendly with MrsPenkethman， grew now more than ever friendly with MrsPenkethman. And Mrs Penkethman and Ella were inseparable.
The few aristocrats left in Bursley in September remarkedthat Horace knew what he was about， as it was notorious thatElla had the most solid expectations. But as a matter of factHorace did not know what he was about， and he never oncethought of Ella’s expectations. He was simply， as they say inBursley， knocked silly by Ella. He honestly imagined her tobe the wonderfullest woman on the earth’s surface， with herdark eyes and her expressive sympathetic gestures， and heralterations of seriousness and gaiety. It astounded him thata girl of twenty-one could have thought so deeply upon lifeas she had. The inexplicable thing was that she looked up toHIM. She evidently admired HIM. He wanted to tell her thatshe was quite wrong about him， much too kind in her estimateof him—that really he was a very ordinary man indeed. Butanother instinct prevented him from thus undeceiving her.
And one Saturday afternoon， the season being late September，Horace actually got those two women up to tea in his houseand garden. He had not dared to dream of such bliss. He hadhesitated long before asking them to come， and in asking themhe had blushed and stammered： the invitation had seemed tohim to savour of audacity. But， bless you！ they had acceptedwith apparent ecstasy. They gave him to think that they hadgenuinely wanted to come. And they came extra-speciallydressed—visions， lilies of the field. And as the day was quitewarm， tea was served in the garden， and everybody admiredthe view； and there was no restraint， no awkwardness. Inparticular Ella talked with an ease and a distinction thatenchanted Horace， and almost made him talk with ease anddistinction too. He said to himself that， seeing he had onlyknown her a month， he was getting on amazingly. He said tohimself that his good luck passed belief.
Then there was a sound of cab-wheels on the other side ofthe garden-wall， and presently Horace heard the housekeepercomplimenting Sidney on his good looks， and Sidney asking thehousekeeper to lend him three shillings to pay the cabman. Thegolden youth had returned without the slightest warning fromhis cruise. The tea trio， at the lower end of the garden， saw himstanding in the porch， tanned， curly， graceful， and young. Horacehalf rose， and then sat down again. Ella stared hard.
‘that must be your brother，’ she said.
‘Yes， that’s Sid，’ Horace answered； and then， calling outloudly： ‘Come down here， Sid， and tell them to bring anothercup and saucer.’
‘right you are， old man，’ Sidney shouted. ‘You see I’m back.
What！ Mrs Penkethman， is that you？’ He came down thecentral path of the garden like a Narcissus.
‘He DOES look delicate，’ said Ella under her breath toHorace. Tears came to her eyes.
Naturally Ella knew all about Sidney. She enjoyed the entireconfidence of Mrs Penkethman， and what Mrs Penkethmandidn’t know of the private history of the upper classes inBursley did not amount to very much.
These were nearly the last words that Ella spoke to Horacethat afternoon. The introduction was made， and Sidney slippedinto the party as comfortably as he slipped into everything， likea candle slipping into a socket. But nevertheless Ella talked nomore. She just stared at Sidney， and listened to him. Horacewas proud that Sidney had made such an impression on her；he was glad that she showed no aversion to Sidney， because， inthe event of Horace’s marriage， where would Sidney live， if notwith Horace and Horace’s wife？ Still， he could have wished thatElla would continue to display her conversational powers.
Presently， Sidney lighted a cigarette. He was of those youngmen whose delicate mouths seem to have been fashioned forthe nice conduct of a cigarette. And he had a way of blowingout the smoke that secretly ravished every feminine beholder.
Horace still held to his boyhood’s principles； but he enviedSidney a little.
At the conclusion of the festivity these two women naturallycould not be permitted to walk home alone. And， naturally，also， the four could not walk abreast on the narrow pavements.
Horace went first with Mrs Penkethman. He was mad withanxiety to appropriate Ella， but he dared not. It would not havebeen quite correct； it would have been， as they say in Bursley，too thick. Besides， there was the question of age. Horacewas over thirty， and Mrs Penkethman was also—over thirty；whereas Sidney was twenty-one， and so was Ella. HenceSidney walked behind with Ella， and the procession started insilence. Horace did not look round too often—that would nothave been quite proper—but whenever he did look round theother couple had lagged farther and farther behind， and Ellaseemed perfectly to have recovered her speech. At length helooked round， and lo！ they had not turned the last corner； andthey arrived at Mrs Penkethman’s cottage at Hillport a quarterof an hour after their elders.
IV
The wedding cost Horace a large sum of money. You see，he could not do less than behave handsomely by the bride，owing to his notorious admiration for her； and of course thebridegroom needed setting up. Horace practically furnished theirhome for them out of his own pocket； it was not to be expectedthat Sidney should have resources. Further， Sidney as a singleman， paying seven-and-six a week for board and lodging， couldno doubt struggle along upon three pounds weekly. But Sidneyas a husband， with the nicest girl in the world to take care of，and house-rent to pay， could not possibly perform the same feat.
Although he did no more work at the manufactory—Horacecould not have been so unbrotherly as to demand it—Horacepaid him eight pounds a week instead of three.
