Somerset maughan

FRANK HURRELL 
Arthur, having read this letter twice, put it in an envelope and left it 
without comment for Miss Boyd. Her answer came within a couple 
of hours: 'I've asked him to tea on Wednesday, and I can't put him 
off. You must come and help us; but please be as polite to him as if, 

---

like most of us, he had only taken mental liberties with the Ten 
Commandments.' 

---

7 
On the morning of the day upon which they had asked him to tea, 
Oliver Haddo left at Margaret's door vast masses of 
chrysanthemums. There were so many that the austere studio was 
changed in aspect. It gained an ephemeral brightness that Margaret, 
notwithstanding pieces of silk hung here and there on the walls, had 
never been able to give it. When Arthur arrived, he was dismayed 
that the thought had not occurred to him. 
'I'm so sorry,' he said. 'You must think me very inconsiderate.' 
Margaret smiled and held his hand. 
'I think I like you because you don't trouble about the common little 
attentions of lovers.' 
'Margaret's a wise girl,' smiled Susie. 'She knows that when a man 
sends flowers it is a sign that he has admired more women than 
one.' 
'I don't suppose that these were sent particularly to me.' 
Arthur Burdon sat down and observed with pleasure the cheerful 
fire. The drawn curtains and the lamps gave the place a nice 
cosiness, and there was the peculiar air of romance which is always 
in a studio. There is a sense of freedom about it that disposes the 
mind to diverting speculations. In such an atmosphere it is possible 
to be serious without pompousness and flippant without inanity. 
In the few days of their acquaintance Arthur and Susie had arrived 
at terms of pleasant familiarity. Susie, from her superior standpoint 
of an unmarried woman no longer young, used him with the good-
natured banter which she affected. To her, he was a foolish young 
thing in love, and she marvelled that even the cleverest man in that 
condition could behave like a perfect idiot. But Margaret knew that, 
if her friend chaffed him, it was because she completely approved of 
him. As their intimacy increased, Susie learnt to appreciate his solid 
character. She admired his capacity in dealing with matters that 
were in his province, and the simplicity with which he left alone 
those of which he was ignorant. There was no pose in him. She was 

---

touched also by an ingenuous candour which gave a persuasive 
charm to his abruptness. And, though she set a plain woman's value 
on good looks, his appearance, rough hewn like a statue in 
porphyry, pleased her singularly. It was an index of his character. 
The look of him gave you the whole man, strong yet gentle, honest 
and simple, neither very imaginative nor very brilliant, but 
immensely reliable and trustworthy to the bottom of his soul. He 
was seated now with Margaret's terrier on his knees, stroking its 
ears, and Susie, looking at him, wondered with a little pang why no 
man like that had even cared for her. It was evident that he would 
make a perfect companion, and his love, once won, was of the sort 
that did not alter. 
Dr Porhoët came in and sat down with the modest quietness which 
was one of his charms. He was not a great talker and loved most to 
listen in silence to the chatter of young people. The dog jumped 
down from Arthur's knee, went up to the doctor, and rubbed itself 
in friendly fashion against his legs. They began to talk in the soft 
light and had forgotten almost that another guest was expected. 
Margaret hoped fervently that he would not come. She had never 
looked more lovely than on this afternoon, and she busied herself 
with the preparations for tea with a housewifely grace that added a 
peculiar delicacy to her comeliness. The dignity which encompassed 
the perfection of her beauty was delightfully softened, so that you 
were reminded of those sweet domestic saints who lighten here and 
there the passionate records of the Golden Book. 
'