the new machiavelli-第35部分

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first　floors　of　London　houses。　　Its　walls　were　hung　with　two　or　

three　indifferent　water　colours；　there　was　scarcely　any　furniture　

but　a　sofa　or　so　and　a　chair；　and　the　floor；　severely　carpeted　with　

matting；　was　crowded　with　a　curious　medley　of　people；　men　

predominating。　　Several　were　in　evening　dress；　but　most　had　the　

morning　garb　of　the　politician；　the　women　were　either　severely　

rational　or　radiantly　magnificent。　　Willersley　pointed　out　to　me　the　

wife　of　the　Secretary　of　State　for　War；　and　I　recognised　the　Duchess　

of　Clynes；　who　at　that　time　cultivated　intellectuality。　　I　looked　

round；　identifying　a　face　here　or　there；　and　stepping　back　trod　on　

some　one's　toe；　and　turned　to　find　it　belonged　to　the　Right　Hon。　G。　

B。　Mottisham；　dear　to　the　PUNCH　caricaturists。　　He　received　my　

apology　with　that　intentional　charm　that　is　one　of　his　most　

delightful　traits；　and　resumed　his　discussion。　　Beside　him　was　

Esmeer　of　Trinity；　whom　I　had　not　seen　since　my　Cambridge　days。　。　。　。



Willersley　found　an　ex…member　of　the　School　Board　for　whom　he　had　

affinities；　and　left　me　to　exchange　experiences　and　comments　upon　

the　company　with　Esmeer。　　Esmeer　was　still　a　don；　but　he　was　

nibbling；　he　said；　at　certain　negotiations　with　the　TIMES　that　might　

bring　him　down　to　London。　　He　wanted　to　come　to　London。　　〃We　peep　at　

things　from　Cambridge；〃　he　said。



〃This　sort　of　thing；〃　I　said；　〃makes　London　necessary。　　It's　the　

oddest　gathering。〃



〃Every　one　comes　here；〃　said　Esmeer。　　〃Mostly　we　hate　them　like　

poisonjealousyand　little　irritationsAltiora　can　be　a　horror　at　

timesbut　we　HAVE　to　come。〃



〃Things　are　being　done？〃



〃Oh！no　doubt　of　it。　　It's　one　of　the　parts　of　the　British　

machinerythat　doesn't　show。　。　。　。　　But　nobody　else　could　do　it。



〃Two　people；〃　said　Esmeer；　〃who've　planned　to　be　a　powerin　an　

original　way。　　And　by　Jove！　they've　done　it！〃



I　did　not　for　some　time　pick　out　Oscar　Bailey；　and　then　Esmeer　

showed　him　to　me　in　elaborately　confidential　talk　in　a　corner　with　a　

distinguished…looking　stranger　wearing　a　ribbon。　　Oscar　had　none　of　

the　fine　appearance　of　his　wife；　he　was　a　short　sturdy　figure　with　a　

rounded　protruding　abdomen　and　a　curious　broad；　flattened；　clean…

shaven　face　that　seemed　nearly　all　forehead。　　He　was　of　Anglo…

Hungarian　extraction；　and　I　have　always　fancied　something　Mongolian　

in　his　type。　　He　peered　up　with　reddish　swollen…looking　eyes　over　

gilt…edged　glasses　that　were　divided　horizontally　into　portions　of　

different　refractive　power；　and　he　talking　in　an　ingratiating　

undertone；　with　busy　thin　lips；　an　eager　lisp　and　nervous　movements　

of　the　hand。



People　say　that　thirty　years　before　at　Oxford　he　was　almost　exactly　

the　same　eager；　clever　little　man　he　was　when　I　first　met　him。　　He　

had　come　up　to　Balliol　bristling　with　extraordinary　degrees　and　

prizes　capturned　in　provincial　and　Irish　and　Scotch　universities

and　had　made　a　name　for　himself　as　the　most　formidable　dealer　in　

exact　fact　the　rhetoricians　of　the　Union　had　ever　had　to　encounter。　　

From　Oxford　he　had　gone　on　to　a　position　in　the　Higher　Division　of　

the　Civil　Service；　I　think　in　the　War　Office；　and　had　speedily　made　

a　place　for　himself　as　a　political　journalist。　　He　was　a　

particularly　neat　controversialist；　and　very　full　of　political　and　

sociological　ideas。　　He　had　a　quite　astounding　memory　for　facts　and　

a　mastery　of　detailed　analysis；　and　the　time　afforded　scope　for　

these　gifts。　　The　later　eighties　were　full　of　politico…social　

discussion；　and　he　became　a　prominent　name　upon　the　contents　list　of　

the　NINETEENTH　CENTURY；　the　FORTNIGHTLY　and　CONTEMPORARY　chiefly　as　

a　half　sympathetic　but　frequently　very　damaging　critic　of　the　

socialism　of　that　period。　　He　won　the　immense　respect　of　every　one　

specially　interested　in　social　and　political　questions；　he　soon　

achieved　the　limited　distinction　that　is　awarded　such　capacity；　and　

at　that　I　think　he　would　have　remained　for　the　rest　of　his　life　if　

he　had　not　encountered　Altiora。



But　Altiora　Macvitie　was　an　altogether　exceptional　woman；　an　

extraordinary　mixture　of　qualities；　the　one　woman　in　the　world　who　

could　make　something　more　out　of　Bailey　than　that。　　She　had　much　of　

the　vigour　and　handsomeness　of　a　slender　impudent　young　man；　and　an　

unscrupulousness　altogether　feminine。　　She　was　one　of　those　women　

who　are　waiting　inwhat　is　the　word？muliebrity。　　She　had　courage　

and　initiative　and　a　philosophical　way　of　handling　questions；　and　

she　could　be　bored　by　regular　work　like　a　man。　　She　was　entirely　

unfitted　for　her　sex's　sphere。　　She　was　neither　uncertain；　coy　nor　

hard　to　please；　and　altogether　too　stimulating　and　aggressive　for　

any　gentleman's　hours　of　ease。　　Her　cookery　would　have　been　about　as　

sketchy　as　her　handwriting；　which　was　generally　quite　illegible；　and　

she　would　have　made；　I　feel　sure；　a　shocking　bad　nurse。　　Yet　you　

mustn't　imagine　she　was　an　inelegant　or　unbeautiful　woman；　and　she　

is　inconceivable　to　me　in　high　collars　or　any　sort　of　masculine　

garment。　　But　her　soul　was　bony；　and　at　the　base　of　her　was　a　vanity　

gaunt　and　greedy！　　When　she　wasn't　in　a　state　of　personal　untidiness　

that　was　partly　a　protest　against　the　waste　of　hours　exacted　by　the　

toilet　and　partly　a　natural　disinclination；　she　had　a　gypsy　

splendour　of　black　and　red　and　silver　all　her　own。　　And　somewhen　in　

the　early　nineties　she　met　and　married　Bailey。



I　know　very　little　about　her　early　years。　　She　was　the　only　daughter　

of　Sir　Deighton　Macvitie；　who　applied　the　iodoform　process　to　

cotton；　and　only　his　subsequent　unfortunate　attempts　to　become　a　

Cotton　King　prevented　her　being　a　very　rich　woman。　　As　it　was　she　

had　a　tolerable　independence。　　She　came　into　prominence　as　one　of　

the　more　able　of　the　little　shoal　of　young　women　who　were　led　into　

politico…philanthropic　activities　by　the　influence　of　the　earlier　

novels　of　Mrs。　Humphry　Wardthe　Marcella　crop。　　　She　went　

〃slumming〃　with　distinguished　vigour；　which　was　quite　usual　in　those　

daysand　returned　from　her　experiences　as　an　amateur　flower　girl　

with　clear　and　original　views　about　the　problemwhich　is　and　always　

had　been　unusual。　　She　had　not　married；　I　suppose　because　her　

standards　were　high；　and　men　are　cowards　and　with　an　instinctive　

appetite　for　muliebrity。　　She　had　kept　house　for　her　father　by　

speaking　occasionally　to　the　housekeeper；　butler　and　cook　her　mother　

had　left　her；　and　gathering　the　most　interesting　dinner　parties　she　

could；　and　had　married　off　four　orphan　nieces　in　a　harsh　and　

successful　manner。　　After　her　father's　smash　and　death　she　came　out　

as　a　writer　upon　social　questions　and　a　scathing　critic　of　the　

Charity　Organisation　Society；　and　she　was　three　and　thirty　and　a　

little　at　loose　ends　when　she　met　Oscar　Bailey；　so　to　speak；　in　the　

CONTEMPORARY　REVIEW。　　The　lurking　woman　in　her　nature　was　fascinated　

by　the　ease　and　precision　with　which　the　little　man　rolled　over　all　

sorts　of　important　and　authoritative　people；　she　was　the　first　to　

discover　a　sort　of　imaginative　bigness　in　his　still　growing　mind；　

the　forehead　perhaps　carried　him　off　physically；　and　she　took　

occasion　to　meet　and　subjugate　him；　and；　so　soon　as　he　had　

sufficiently　recovered　from　his　abject　humility　and　a　certain　panic　

at　her　attentions；　marry　him。



This　had　opened　a　new　phase　in　the　lives　of　Bailey　and　herself。　　The　

two　supplemented　each　other　to　an　extraordinary　extent。　　Their　

subsequent　career　was；　I　think；　almost　entirely　her　invention。　　She　

was　aggressive；　imaginative；　and　had　a　great　capacity　for　ideas；　

while　he　was　almost　destitute　of　initiative；　and　could　do　nothing　

with　ideas　except　remember　and　discuss　them。　　She　was；　if　not　exact；　

at　least　indolent；　with　a　strong　disposition　to　save　energy　by　

sketchingeven　her　handwriting　showed　thatwhile　he　was　

inexhaustibly　industrious　with　a　relentless　invariable　caligraphy　

that　grew　larger　and　clearer　as　the　years　passed　by。　　She　had　a　

considerable　power　of　charming；　she　could　be　just　as　nice　to　people

and　incidentally　just　as　nastyas　she　wanted　to　be。　　He　was　always　

just　the　same；　a　little　confidential　and　SOTTO　VOCE；　artlessly　rude　

and　egoistic　in　an　undignified　way。　　She　had　considerable　social　

experience；　good　social　connections；　and　considerable　social　

ambition；　while　he　had　none　of　these　things。　　She　saw　in　a　flash　her　

opportunity　to　redeem　his　defects；　use　his　powers；　and　do　large；　

novel；　rather　startling　things。　　She　ran　him。　　Her　marriage；　which　

shocked　her　friends　and　relations　beyond　measurefor　a　time　they　

would　only　speak　of　Bailey　as　〃that　gnome〃was　a　stroke　of　genius；　

and　forthwith　they　proceeded　to　make　themselves　the　most　formidable　

and　distinguished　couple　conceivable。　　P。　B。　P。；　she　boasted；　was　

engraved　inside　their　wedding　rings；　Pro　Bono　Publico；　and　she　meant　

it　to　be　no　idle　threat。　　She　had　discovered　very　early　that　the　

last　thing　influential　people　will　do　is　to　work。　　Everything　in　

their　lives　tends　to　make　them　dependent　upon　a　supply　of　

confidently　administered　detail。　　Their　business　is　with　the　window　

and　not　the　stock　behind；　and　in　the　end　they　are　dependent　upon　the　

stock　behind　for　what　goes　into　the　window。　　She　linked　with　that　

the　fact　that　Bailey　had　a　mind　as　orderly　as　a　museum；　and　an　

invincible　power　over　detail。　　She　saw　that　if　two　people　took　the　

necessary　pains　to　know　the　facts　of　government　and　administration　

with　precision；　to　gather　together　knowledge　that　was　dispersed　and　

confused；　to　be　able　to　say　precisely　what　had　to　be　done　and　what　

avoided　in　this　eventuality　or　that；　they　would　necessarily　become　a　

centre　of　reference　for　all　sorts　of　legislative　proposals　and　

political　expedients；　and　she　went　unhesitatingly　upon　that。



Bailey；　under　her　vigorous　direction；　threw　up　his　post　in　the　Civil　

Service　and　abandoned　sporadic　controversies；　an