Section number one of A Hypocritical Romance and Other Stories. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Sounds Sharp out of Toronto, Ontario, Canada. A Hypocritical Romance and Other Stories by Caroline Tickner. Chapter one. A Hypocritical Romance. It was rather to my credit than otherwise that I first became a hypocrite, since it was wholly owing to my natural amiability and unselfishness of disposition. As I look back upon the first stages of my development in that direction, I find it in every way a most commendable deterioration, which sprang from a kindly desire to please and to conciliate, and not from a natural tendency to deceive or falsify. When Aunt Sophia, whose whole soul is wrapped up in music, came to visit us, somebody must need sip by and be politely appreciative, while she rendered Chopin and Mendelssohn or interpreted Mozart and Schumann with that true enthusiasm which fails to recognise the foolish flight of time. All the other members of our family openly avowed their keen dislike for music, and quietly but speedily withdrew to distant corners of the house whenever Aunt Sophia began to play, me, to suffer patiently, propped in some comfortless armchair in the drawing-room, a most unwilling victim. I presumed that it would be hard to find a more un-musical household anywhere, Aunt Sophia would remark sharply, turning about to find that one by one the members of the family had melted from the room during some favourite sonata which should have helped them spellbound in their respective places. It is a sad thing for any one to have no delicate perception of what is most beautiful and elevating, she would continue, but it is utterly lamentable for a whole family to be found wanting in the highest attributes. At this point I would protest that Father had important letters to write and Mother household duties which she must attend to while George was obliged to study his Latin. Don't try to excuse them, Aunt Sophia would exclaim. They have not an atom of music in their souls, and when I have said that I have exhausted all that can be said in their defence. But Aunt Sophia I would feebly venture, longing to follow George up to the billiard-room once the click of balls was wafted to me during the pianissimo passages. I'm afraid that I have not very much music in my soul either, to which she would make answer, don't detract from your natural gifts, Elizabeth. You are quite different from all the others. You have the genuine musical temperament. I recognise the fact, when you were but a mere infant in arms, even then you were appreciative.  You responded instantly to the wild sob in the notes so that your nurse was forced to bear you screaming from the room. After such a rebuke I would sink back into my chair with desperate resignation and try to take catnaps while Aunt Sophia continued her interpretations until callers or luncheon brought me the coveted release. Many a time have I sat rigidly against the stiff, unsympathetic sofa cushions in the drawing-room, sternly philosophising on the selfishness of frank and truthful souls, apostles of sincerity who would not pretend, though, by so doing, they could mollify all strife and bring joy and goodwill to all mankind. I was conscious of being in perfect sympathy with every uncomplementary utterance which Father and George let fall regarding the great composers. In fact, I felt I was probably more actively antagonistic to these honourable gentlemen than they were, for I knew enough of Aunt Sophia's idols to hate them individually. Father and George merely despised them as a whole and I cherished one form of hatred for Wagner and another for old Johann Sebastian Bach. My forced acquaintance with them gave me power to discriminate in my dislikes and I found Mendelssohn's songs without words unbearable in quite a different way from Chopin's nocturnes. And yet I had often unblushingly assured Aunt Sophia that certain pieces were exquisitely beautiful after having surreptitiously read some carefully concealed novel through the entire performance. This was a line of conduct which I must own, lowered me in my own estimation, though I mentally commented that I was not untruthful in my statement since undoubtedly the pieces were exquisitely beautiful to Aunt Sophia. On the strength of my musical temperament I greatly endeared myself to her and was rewarded for my unselfishness by costly rings at Christmas or pearl opera glasses and gold vinaigrettes upon my birthdays while the other members of the family were meted out the penalty attendant upon unsympathetic natures. Aunt Sophia sent them decorative cards, impossible pen wipers and gilt-edged diaries or little painted picture frames which would not stand upright and into which no pictures could be made to fit. But Aunt Sophia also favored me with a seat beside her at the symphony rehearsals which privilege I couldn't very well refuse and this, in the eyes of those at home, more than offset innumerable vinaigrettes and rings. How I dreaded Friday afternoons and how much oftener they came around than any other afternoons. If I could get up a headache or go out of town or in any way avoid the weekly ordeal, I did so with alacrity, although I never allowed Aunt Sophia to imagine that anything short of grim necessity could keep me from her side. It was, of course, hypocritical to the last degree to make her think that she was giving me so much pleasure when I was counting off each number on the programme with barbaric gratitude and murmuring to myself, one more over. But after all, if it gave her satisfaction to imagine that because the ninth symphony lifted her up to the seventh heaven of bliss, it was elevating me to the same altitude, why should I un-deceive her? I used to manage to get delayed in one way or another, almost every Friday, so as to avoid the overture, appearing in good season just often enough to avert suspicion. As it was, I succeeded in convincing Aunt Sophia that the line of cars on which I was dependent must be in a deplorably mismanaged condition and in spite of my assurances that in a crowded thoroughfare blockades were unavoidable she persisted in writing several scathing protests to the evening papers headed the grievance of a music lover. Whenever I was obliged to listen to an overture I invariably had some pressing engagement which would not permit me to remain after the first movement of the symphony so that on the whole my sufferings were considerably abridged. Aunt Sophia was not, however, contented with having me beside her at symphony concerts only but insisted that I should accompany her to recitals oratorios, delightful little music halls and many other entertainments of like objectionable character. Thus I had many rare chances which would have turned any lover of music green with envy and of which I availed myself like a lamb prepared for the slaughter. Do not let me give the impression that these occasions were entirely seasons of unmitigated suffering for me. No. I was able to extract enough pleasure from them in my own peculiar way to make my musical life tolerable else I could never have been such a successful hypocrite. In the first place I soon schooled myself to a high level of mental tranquility which made it possible for me to close my ears altogether to outward sounds. In this blissful state concertos and pollinases floated by me and I remained unharmed. I heard them not. I would sit absorbed in my own pleasant meditations regarding the proper treatment of an Easter bonnet or the artistic draping of a party gown for half an hour at a time seemingly unconscious of the orchestra which might have interpreted anything from Brahms to Yankee Doodle without troubling me. Occasionally Aunt Sophia would remark that it was a pleasure during the different movements to watch the feeling of the orchestra reflected in a sensitive face like mine. At such times I could not help experiencing a pang of remorse but I regarded it as only fair to my aunt that I should be the one to suffer for the deception so I endured the pricks of conscience and spared her the humiliating truth. I could not really blame myself very much on second thoughts, however for it was not my fault if Aunt Sophia with her great powers of discrimination could not distinguish between the reflection of a trio in B major and that of a new Easter bonnet. After a while I came to find the music a perfect inspiration to me. If I had been worried or troubled by some complex question which I found it difficult to answer I had only to give myself up to the influence of some stirring symphony and instantly always well my mind would clear without delay and the vexed questions would straighten themselves out at once. As I calmly sat by Aunt Sophia's side one delightful train of thought would follow another through a charmed sequence which extended on and on until it reached the final squeak of the violins. I planned Christmas presents for my friends laid out my summer wardrobe checked off my calling list or thoughtfully reviewed my latest favorite book or again I faithfully recalled the numerous recipes that I had acquired at cooking school and wondered if they would turn out the same at home or else went over my part in the theatricals which our church was getting up to help the cause of foreign missions. From time to time my chain of thought was broken in upon by long bursts of applause in which I always tried to join until I found that many choice spirits regarded clapping as something quite apart from a high order of appreciation. This knowledge was a great relief to me and ever after I simply sighed and looked off dreamily into space. This method gave Aunt Sophia as much satisfaction as if I had rapped crudely on the floor with my umbrella and was a great saving on my gloves. I derived a good deal of satisfaction from the Regulation House Music Halls to which we went, apart from the refreshments as I could almost always slip away from my aunt's side and find a seat either in a far distant corner of the hall or on the stairs where I invariably encountered several kindred spirits also bent upon enjoying themselves. Often we succeeded in withdrawing far enough upstairs to talk straight through without disturbing anyone. At home, alas, I was considered thoroughly musical this being the only construction which could be put upon my regular attendance at symphony rehearsals and for this reason I was mercilessly thrust into the breach whenever any musical people came to the house. Elizabeth is the musical member of this family Mother would remark with satisfaction as she withdrew leaving me to enjoy a new collection of Italian songs which cousin Louisa had thoughtfully brought forth from the depths of her Saratoga trunk. Then Father, always anxious to give pleasure to his children actually invited to the house rising composers and long-haired students of harmony with whom, forsooth, I needs must struggle through woefully tedious conversations regarding their pet theme while strains of merry laughter harassed me from the frivolous groups about the room. Even George, who should have understood me better than the rest brought home with him from college prominent members of the Glee Club and friends who played the mandolin by the hour to whose performances the family listened resignantly on my account. When I should have so much preferred to welcome the most insignificant member of the football team. Under these circumstances one would reasonably imagine that I must have gradually grown veritably musical but I did not. On the contrary, I cared less and less for a violin each time I heard one played. Disliked a piano more and more daily felt my aversion to a cello constantly strengthening while my contempt for even a cabinet organ steadily increased and so on through the whole list of these instruments of torture not to mention the vocalist toward whom my attitude was still less friendly. But now the retribution which for the sake of poetic justice not the other kind should overtake all hypocrites descended upon me. When I realized what had happened I was for a time perfectly aghast then I rallied and made up my mind to face the inevitable and make the best of it. Oh, ruthless fate! I had fallen in love with a man after Aunt Sophia's own heart a man whose whole soul was bound up in music could anything more unfortunate have happened to me or anything more grievously grotesque? For a long time I struggled against my natural inclination and did my best to root up such a misplaced fancy from my heart. I knew full well that I could never be happy with an intensely musical helpmate. Why, then, should I doom myself to lifelong wretchedness? I would not. I would shun his society. I would not see him when he came to call. I gave strict injunctions to the maid to this effect telling her that when he came she was to say that I was not at home. But it was no use. My admirable resolutions vanished into thinnest air the very first time I saw him coming up the street and fearing lest my heartless instruction should be implicitly carried out I ran down and let him in before he had a chance to ring the bell and then pretended, alas, how easily I can pretend that I was just passing through the hall wholly by accident. I felt convinced that I could never be happy with him and yet I seemed to feel that I should be equally miserable without him. Therefore, since I was destined to be unhappy in either case I concluded I might as well be wretched in his society. Then I told the maid to understand that when he came to call I was not at home to anybody else. But I am getting along much too rapidly with my narrative. I haven't mentioned where it was. I first met Winthrop. His name is Winthrop. Winthrop Vanderwater. Such a nice name. A happy combination of the best in Boston and New York. But to think that I should have seen him first at a symphony rehearsal leaning against a radiator near the wall not far from where Anne-Sophie and I were seated. I had been trying to make up my mind during some Russian music whether to have a girl's luncheon for cousin Louisa or a card party in the evening when suddenly I became conscious that someone was watching me and I glanced up hurriedly to meet a clear and penetrating gaze which seemed to read my very soul and fathom all my frivolous thoughts of card parties and luncheons. Tall, handsome, interesting. He stood with his head thrown back drinking in every note of that wild, crashy Russian music as though his life depended on the verdict of the orchestra.  I glanced at him once or twice during the symphony just to see if my theory regarding his being a true devotee was correct and sure enough it was for he stayed to the very end of the final movement. I had intended to leave before the second movement myself but I decided to say just to test my own powers of perception in regard to musical types. He interested me as a clearly defined specimen whom I could satisfactorily analyze. He had a ponderous looking book under his arm which he opened from time to time. This was a score of the music, of course. Then he wrote something down with a pencil occasionally. These were comments upon the rendering of certain passages, no doubt. I came to the conclusion that he was studying harmony and therefore came regularly to the rehearsals while he probably played some instrument with intelligence and feeling. The following Friday brought proof of the correctness of my surmises for my musical friend was there again in precisely the same spot and after that I used to see him there regularly apparently wrapped up in the music with his eyes fixed upon the score book. Quite often I thought I caught him staring at Aunt Sophia and I wondered if he recognized a kindred spirit in her. I could not help wondering if I could possibly learn to enjoy music in that way and I began to endeavor conscientiously to enter into the spirit of every piece. But it was no use. Perhaps if I had begun sooner I might have succeeded but now it was too late. The more I tried to be appreciative and sympathetic the less I became so until I really made myself feel quite depressed and wretched. One afternoon I went with Aunt Sophia to a music at four campstool affair which we reached somewhat later than my aunt intended we should and earlier than I hoped we might owing to a friendly motor on the electric car which refused to make the wheels go round for nearly half an hour. Aunt Sophia was very much annoyed as she considers it an insult to one's hostess to relate to campstool entertainments. Moreover she likes to have her choice of seats. I don't think myself that it makes a particle of difference when one arrives at a campstool reception for go as early as you may they have always begun. Someone is singing no matter at what time the drawing room is reached and all the other people who have apparently been there for hours look up with annoyance and make an unpardonable racket trying to sink noiselessly into a vacant chair toward which her hostess nods with a pained smile. If by chance you manage to slip in during an intermission and are about to shake hands and let fall some cordial utterance my lady puts her finger impressively to her lips as she points to some instrumental celebrity who is about to inflict himself upon the assembled company and with an apologetic blush you subside uncomfortably into the nearest seat. On the afternoon in question somebody motioned Aunt Sophia to a front seat that was unoccupied and I at once slipped into the hall determined to steal upstairs and wait in the dressing room. I felt so cross and unmusical. My escape was cut off however by our hostess who touched my arm. There will be some more chairs here in a moment she whispered much to my discomforture and then who should appear but my symphony man laden with campstools. I want you to know my nephew Winthrop Vanderwater she whispered and a moment later he had opened a chair for me and sat down in another at my side. I was about to venture some remark to the effect that I was sorry to have lost so much of the music when someone began a concerto and robbed the world of one falsehood which however would not have materially increased the sum total for which I am responsible already. We both listened to the music with breathless attention and said how beautiful and delightful each selection was. I would have rather talked all the time but I pretended I was enjoying it as much as he was and indeed I applauded one aria so warmly that he insisted upon clapping until he brought about an encore which served me just right. He asked if I was fond of music and I said oh yes and he remarked that he already knew it he had seen me at so many concerts. Moreover he said that he could tell by watching people's faces how much they were enjoying themselves. I tried to be as truthful as I could and replied that I nearly always enjoyed myself to which he responded most impertently that I must have perfect taste. At this point I was rather glad to have a man get up and start a recitative. While he was singing it I determined that I would not admit to Mr. Vanderwater that I had ever noticed him at the rehearsals so at the end of the recitative I ventured that I was surprised to know he had ever seen me before and inquired if he had attended the last three or four concerts. Then what do you think he said after I had seen him there every time with that big book that he regretted he had been obliged to miss the last three or four. Then you must have a double. I exclaimed foolishly before I realized that he was only trying to trap me into acknowledging that I had seen him at the concerts after all.  Laughing things off is even better policy than honesty itself I find. Four, if the thing is deeply important it's the surest method of concealment and if it's not why it's the best fun. Later when the refreshments were served I introduced Mr. Vanderwater to Aunt Sophia and we all talked violin recitals and sopranos and quartets until it was time to go home and he seemed perfectly absorbed in every musical topic that Aunt Sophia dragged into the conversation. After that afternoon we ran across him at almost every musical or concert that we attended and he invariably came out of the hall at the same moment we did and found our carriage for us. He was so polite and so musical that Aunt Sophia was perfectly charmed with him and went so far as to ask him to come to a pokey little song recital that she was to give in my honour as I was visiting her for a few weeks at that time.  Mr. Vanderwater, however must really have enjoyed the song recital for he came to call immediately afterwards to tell us how much pleasure we had given him and from that time he dropped in upon us very often and we had most delightful times except that he always brought the conversation round to music and when he did not introduce it I felt obliged to knowing how fond he was of holding forth upon the subject while Aunt Sophia, as a matter of course never spoke of anything else and so the long and short of it was that we talked music, music, music and very little else beside. Each time that he came to see us I was dragged in more deeply until I felt that it would be impossible ever to extricate myself from such a false position for had I not pretended to share his deep and true enthusiasm and assumed that I agreed with all his lovely theories regarding the superiority of the musical soul at last my position grew simply intolerable I could not go on forever making believe I was not hypocrite enough for that so I determined to make a clean breast of everything the next time that we met and then I postponed my confession until the next time but one and so on finally somebody sent Aunt Sophia three tickets for a Wagner concert she was of course quite charmed at the thought of hearing nothing but this esteemed favourites compositions for a whole evening and in a moment of enthusiasm she suggested asking Mr. Vanderwater to act as our escort in order that he might share the treat in store for us he accepted as I knew he would when he learned what a heavy concert it was to be and when eight o'clock arrived we were all sitting stiffly erect in those luxurious seats which the first balcony of our beloved music hall affords with our knees uncomfortably jammed against the seats in front ready to surrender ourselves to several hours of unalloyed enjoyment there we sat filled with different emotions Aunt Sophia brim full of expectant delight Mr. Vanderwater apparently the same while I remained silent and glum the time had come for me to pretend no more after three long pieces through which I looked as bored as I knew how Aunt Sophia asked me if I was not feeling well to which I replied wearily but I felt tired and very hot then our escort suggested that after the next number we might step out into the hall where there was a greater supply of oxygen at the end of the next piece I said that I should like a breath of air and asked Aunt Sophia if she would not come too but she declined saying that we might walk about but for her part she didn't care to risk losing the beginning of the next selection as I stepped out into the hallway I drew a deep sigh of relief for I knew that I was about to free myself of a great weight which had been slowly crushing me into a musical mockery we sauntered to an open door at the end of the hall and paused inhaling the cool breeze that is the fire escape out there my companion remarked casually is it? I responded absolutely peering through the doorway come and explore it he urged stepping out and offering me his hand it's a good plan for you to know where to go in case of fire I followed and we stood looking down into the darkness there is no luxury like pure air I ventured inhaling a long breath and wondering if he considered it dangerous to let go of my hand now that we were standing in a comparatively safe spot yes he replied apparently unconscious of the fact that he was crushing one of my rings into my little finger one does not like to be suffocated even to the strains of Wagner I knew that the fatal moment had arrived do you think me so devoted to Wagner I questioned faintly oh I'm quite sure of it he replied then know that it is not safe to be sure of anything in this world I exclaimed drawing away my hand do you want me to tell you the sober earnest truth for once I hate Wagner hate him, hate him I could not see my companion's face as he stood by my side but I could eloquently imagine his shocked expression and not only Wagner but all the other composers I went on chokingly I hate and abhor them all I'm not really musical not the least in the world and I can't let you go on thinking that I am is this true do you mean what you say he broke in excitedly yes only too true I went on hurriedly I'm a hollow sham, a false pretender I drifted into it all by trying to please Aunt Sophia it was so hard to make up my mind to undeceive you believe me, Aunt Sophia is the only one in sympathy with your beautiful musical ideas I should be glad if I never heard any more music never, never now you may despise me all that you want to I concluded stepping recklessly backward and almost precipitating myself through an opening in the fire escape Elizabeth dearest Elizabeth tried, catching hold of me for heaven's sake be careful unless you want to kill yourself you might despise me less than I murmured what? he burst forth vehemently do you think that I could ever do anything but adore you? nothing that you could possibly do would make any difference in my feelings towards you moreover I am the one despised I am the real pretender not you I am the utterly unscrupulous deceiver your little harmless pretenses were but the sweet sacrificing of your own preferences to another's but mine were all put forth to gain my own selfish ends to make you care for me oh Elizabeth I am not a witt more musical than you are it was my turn now to stand mute with astonishment while he went on all my enthusiasm for music was just put on to please you those were law books and never scores of the symphonies you saw me carry I would not go across the street for all the old composers in the world do you suppose that I would have stood through all those tedious concerts except to look at you straw for the most superb performance I only care for but why should I chronicle anything so personal as the confession of the second hypocrite and Sophia was vexed enough with us for staying away so long she said moreover that she could not understand how anything short of a dead fate could have kept us outside during the three most beautiful selections on the program she added severely that we had lost the fire music but my companion whispered that we had found something infinitely better namely the fire escape all the family are delighted that Winthrop is not musical but Aunt Sophia cannot forgive him as yet she persists in maintaining that I was always intensely musical until I fell in love with a hypocritical young man who first won my affections by his false pretensions and then used his wickedly acquired influence to destroy that quality of artistic appreciation which she had been years in planting in my soul end of section one recording by Sounds Sharp out of Toronto, Ontario, Canada section two of a hypocritical romance and other stories this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Cia Tuinae a hypocritical romance and other stories by Caroline Ticknor the fate of Clyde Moorfield, Yatsman there were two things besides himself of which Clyde Moorfield was passionately fond and these were yachting and young ladies it was a lamentable fact that his two preferences were often hard to reconcile because the young ladies who suited his fastidious taste were apt to care little for his favourite sport nevertheless he generally managed to find one or two who were first class sailors and who interested him as well though the combination of these two requirements often gave him no small amount of trouble his definition of happiness was a fine sailing breeze a boat built after the most approved models one which could win him two or three prizes every year and a pretty girl who could help him reef or be interested with the tiller from time to time he had been disappointed in respect to this last requisition so many times that he had come to make it that point not to become interested in any girl until he found out whether or not she was what he styled a true salt if after an introduction he received a negative reply to his invariable question are you fond of yachting he soon excused himself and studiously avoided further advances in so unprofitable a direction Moorfield had been studying law so continuously for two or three years that during the winter seasons he allowed himself very little recreation refusing all invitations and shunning society conscientiously in summertime however he tried to make up for all this self denial and he usually succeeded in having a blissfully selfish time he knew that he was very selfish but he gloried in it he reveled in pleasing himself exclusively and he did not care whether other people liked it or not he would not play yuker nor help the older ladies out on wist nor make up the set of tennis nor in fact do anything but suit Mr. Clyde Moorfield and he considered that the sooner the majority of boers found this out the better he had not come away to spend his vacation in entertaining people who did not interest him and he did not propose to do it he was handsome and lazy and in spite of his failure to appreciate them as he should have done the girls simply adored him Moorfield was a superb weldser but he said that he didn't care to dance in summer and only strolled into the dancing hall occasionally to look on when he would sit and converse with the fortunate girl who pleased Nancy knowing full well that she would very much like to dance but never asking her to do so because he didn't care about it he never took out parties in his boat having perfect horror of being surrounded by a lot of people who lost off their hats and screamed whenever the boat went about and who brought lemons out with them to prevent seasickness he had no patience with people who were seasick and a girl lost all charm for him who was not proof against a ground swell he felt no sympathy for the poor sufferers who begged to be allowed to lie down in the bottom of the boat he only despised them the fortunate young women upon whom he smiled did not fail to appreciate the fever and an invitation to sail with him was never refused it was too great an honor moreover the lucky recipient of it always took care to be promptly on hand at the appointed hour for Mr. Clyde Norfield did not like to be kept waiting he had demonstrated this fact on a memorable occasion when one independent damsel upon whom he had showered much attention had kept him striding up and down the pier for a whole half hour when she finally appeared she found him calm and affable as ever and even more entertaining and happy go lucky than usual so that she experienced a slight feeling of disappointment having hope to ruffle him somewhat by the delay which none of the other girls would have dared to inflict nevertheless she thought she recognized in this amiability a greater depth of devotion to her than she had ever dreamed of alas her satisfaction was but short lived for never again did Clyde Norfield ask her to step over the gun well of his dainty craft he was polite and even provokingly agreeable whenever they met but that was all he never joined her in her promenade on the piazza never sat beside her in the dance hall in fact he showed plainly from that day that her society was no longer an item on his nautical program but after that few girls ever kept the imperious yachtsmen waiting and if by chance anything delayed them a moment beyond the appointed time they were perfused in their apologies morfield would sit lazily on the wharf by the hour talking to the sailors and slicing a bit of rope or fishing for perch which he invariably pulled in one after the other with the same ease that characterized his performance of every other occupation here he would remain deaf to all entreaties join picnics or go on long drives to beautiful cascades oh mr morfield do come with us this morning a delegation of timid voices would venture some auspicious day when there was a dead calm and sailing was out of the question but without success he would thank them impressively for their great kindness in asking him and only regret that his sail required some attention this morning or he would mention that he must run out to town to get his rudder mended it was a special pleasure for him at times to stroll up on the hotel piazza and watch the picnics start off when he would seat himself on the rail and view their departure with an amused smile congratulating himself that he was not obliged to ride three on a seat for a dozen miles he would watch the young ladies come down one by one all ready for the day's outing and would thoughtfully pick out one from among them and say to her, beseechingly just as she was about to step into the wagon oh, miss bangs don't go on that old excursion but stay and sail around the outer light with me instead and ten to one she would accept his invitation on the spot and desert the picnic without further ceremony it was no wonder that Clyde Morfield came to fancy that he was quite irresistible though he really never shaped such a fancy into so many words for how could he help entertaining a fairly good opinion of a young fellow whom other people valued so highly it happened at about four o'clock when very warm afternoon that hour's sacred to after-dinner naps that miss Rose Silsby and Mr. Morfield strolled slowly up from the boat landing toward the hotel Rose was considered altogether too young by the other girls being only sixteen but she could handle a boat like Mr. Morfield himself and could splice a piece of rope or box the compass like any old tar and so in spite of her damaging lack of years she might have been seen almost daily at the helm of a certain graceful white craft while its owners sat lazily by giving her points on navigation as they flew across the harbor on this particular occasion however the sail had been less of a success than usual for the breeze had wholly died out and Morfield had been obliged to pull home three miles against the tide with one great clumsy oar even the most fascinating companionship loses some of its charm under those circumstances and the two landed hungry and cross realizing that dinner at so late an hour was an unknown and probably unattainable quantity as the dining room doors closed promptly at three as they reached the office several trunks were being carried upstairs followed by bell boys with umbrellas and shawls ah some arrivals by the afternoon coach Morfield ejaculated we're in luck for they will have to be given some dinner see the door is ajar their spirits rose instantly at the prospect and Morfield tossing his cap rack ushered Miss Sylvie into the dining room with a flourish where will you sit madam he said bowing hush she cried warningly don't you see we're not the only ones in the room there are two people over there who will take you for the head waiter in that blue yachting uniform oh look look she added I really believe they think you are very well I'll have a look at them he returned and before she could stop him he had pulled out her chair with all the dignity of fitting the presiding genius of the place and with a mischievous glance he crossed the dining room to where the very pretty girl was unmistakably beckoning to him had the light in the room been less dim Morfield's yachting suit would hardly have passed muster but it was most of the shutters had been closed for the purpose of getting out the flies and in the semi-darkness peculiarities and dress were not easily detected the new arrival was even prettier on close inspection having fluffy light hair and soft brown eyes and possessing an air of distinction which made itself felt at once and compelled a certain amount of homage from all who came under the hat in a large degree that indefinable quality known as style an elderly woman whom she addressed as auntie was seated beside her will you be kind enough to see where our dinner is she said as Morfield approached yes we've been waiting a long time the aunt put in sharply I am very sorry I will see that you have served at once he replied trying to imitate the respectful tone of the head waiter and at the same time fixing his gaze upon the niece then he possessed himself of a cariff and deftly filled their glasses quite as if he were in the habit of performing this office three times a day after this he walked briskly across the room to where Rose was smothering her laughter oh how could you she cried and more than that for such a pretty girl he responded now I'm going to see if we can't have something ourselves I'm nearly starved suppose we walk through into the little breakfast room so as not to spoil the impression that I have made in my new capacity while the hungry sailors were regaling themselves in the small breakfast room Miss Lucy Wainwright was remarking to her aunt what a very handsome had waiter that was I presume he must be one of those students we hear so much about he did seem quite gentlemanly her aunt responded but he wasn't very attentive he didn't come back to see if we had everything we wanted the Wainwrights had come down to be with some cousins who happened to sit at the very next table to that which Mr. Clyde Moorfield graced with his presence when therefore at supper he shelled unconsciously across the dining room and dropped into his seat resplendent in a boiled shirt and cut away Miss Wainwright grasped her cousin's arm who is that she whispered excitedly her cousin told her isn't there a head waiter who looks just like him why no indeed what makes you ask question the other well then I mistook him for a waiter he said desperately and therewith proceeded to give an account of her afternoons encounter oh what a joke laughed her cousin to think that you should have taken the elegant Mr. Moorfield for a waiter it was a very mean thing for him to do the other side in an injured tone very mean and ungentlemanly and I never want to see him again oh but he is the great bow of the hotel that makes no difference to me I can't bear him and I don't care to meet him so be kind enough not to present him to me for I don't wish to be rude and if you do present him I shall be so it came to pass that several days elapsed and still Mr. Clyde Moorfield had not met the lovely Miss Wainwright this was not his fault for he had made repeated efforts in that direction without success for she was always disappearing whenever he chanced to come up or always starting off somewhere each time that he joined the group in which she was at first Moorfield thought that this must be accidental but he presently perceived that it was intentional and having reached this conclusion he determined to be no longer thwarted for him to feel that he was actually being avoided he who was used to having people run after him on all occasions he was accustomed to having his own way and that at once so he decided upon a line of action and then took Rose Silsby into his confidence knowing that she would assist him on the following morning soon after breakfast Moorfield walked leisurely across and down the road apparently bound for the village he was hardly out of sight when Miss Silsby who had been promenading with Miss Wainwright said to her you must run up for your hat and come for a little row with me I'm afraid that you'll tip me over the young woman responded oh no indeed you can ask any of the boatmen if I'm not perfectly reliable left Rose very well I will trust myself with you if you will be very careful for I am frightfully timid on the water and always expect to be drowned a few minutes later they were paddling about the bay and at the same time Mr. Clyde Moorfield was calmly retracing his steps towards the boat landing Rose pulled energetically for a while and then rested upon her oars now I'm going to show you all the points of interest she said she turned around and began describing the scenery and commenting upon the picturesque aspect of the old fort opposite them suddenly Miss Wainwright exclaimed oh where are your oars sure enough they had slipped into the water while Rose was discoursing upon the beauties of the landscape and now floated at some distance from the boat what should we do cried Miss Wainwright in distress don't be frightened replied Rose encouragingly nothing dreadful is going to happen to us look there is a man on the wharf and I am going to beckon to him oh but he won't understand wait and see Rose returned confidently and she waved her hands towards the figure on the pier just then Mr. Clyde Moorfield might have been seen replacing his marine glass in his pocket then he stepped into his small boat and pulled rapidly toward the helpless craft murmuring Rose they'll shall have a ten pound box of candy when next I go to town see see the man is coming cried Miss Wainwright joyfully how well he understood your signal I should never have known what you meant in the world that's because you're not a sailor Rose remarked with an air of superiority which filled her companion with admiration in a moment more however Miss Wainwright exclaimed in a different tone oh if it isn't that Mr. Moorfield why so it is Rose exclaimed how very nice of him how do you do Mr. Moorfield she called out do you see what has happened to us poor helpless creatures we've lost both oars and might have drifted out to see if you hadn't seen us and come to the rescue this was stretching the troops slightly as the tide was carrying them swiftly ashore but Miss Wainwright believed it implicitly and shuttered at the dreadful thought and you told me that you are perfectly reliable she said reproachfully to Rose well I am Mr. Moorfield come and stand up for me oh I beg your pardon I believe you haven't met Miss Wainwright Miss Wainwright allow me to present our preserver Mr. Moorfield Moorfield brought his boat alongside and Miss Wainwright extended a graceful hand to him over the gun well this is the second time that you've been of service to me I think she said smiling she had forgiven him the first offense that evening Moorfield actually crossed the dance hall and invited Miss Wainwright to try a waltz with him thereby greatly astonishing all the young ladies to whom he had confided his intention of not dancing during the summer they sat regarding him with ill concealed amazement as he guided his fair partner through one waltz after another apparently enjoying each more than the preceding one that evening too he asked the new arrival if she wouldn't go sailing with him the next afternoon but she thanked him and said that she didn't enjoy sailing in the least and could never be persuaded to trust herself in any kind of a sailboat she added more over that she was made seasick by the slightest motion Moorfield tried to convince himself that the expression of such sentiments was more than sufficient to extinguish what little interest Miss Wainwright had awakened in his tickled breast and the following afternoon he went sailing alone hardening his heart and leaving her plain tennis with young Camden from the west Moorfield did not take a very long sail however in spite of their being a fine breeze but glided back and forth near the shore where he could hear the voices and laughter from the tennis ground in which he seemed to feel an unusual interest finally he moored his boat and went ashore just in time to see the tennis players disperse and to catch a glimpse of Miss Wainwright and young Camden strolling off together towards the grove again and again Moorfield said to himself that any girl who could not appreciate his favorite sport was lacking in the most important feminine attribute and day after day he sullenly unfurled his sail and sped away across the bay in solitary enjoyment of his beloved pastime but somehow he failed to derive from it the usual satisfaction he found himself continually wondering what Miss Wainwright was doing on shore and even a spanking breeze brought him no consolation then followed a time when day after day his idle boat might have been seen swinging at her moorings while the owner went on long and dusty expeditions for ferns or played tennis with the young ladies he had always declared that he saw no pleasure in sitting on damp uncomfortable rocks and wasting one's time in merely looking at the water but now he suddenly became an enthusiastic devotee of that harmless recreation for hours at a time contentedly perched upon some sharply pointed projection reading poetry to Miss Lucy Wainwright who remained blissfully unconscious of the fearful and wonderful transformation that her presence had wrought in the young yachtsman in the morning he would walk down to the pier and view his boat sadly from the landing and then he would return to the Hotel Piazza for his embroidery or to ask her to take a walk over to the cliff with him his subjugation seemed complete when he rode off one morning to a clam bake on the back seat of the crowded picnic wagon and charged of the hampers and luncheon baskets and sandwiched in between two small boys upon whom he found it necessary to exercise all his powers of eloquence in order to keep the contents intact. Whenever yachting was mentioned Miss Wainwright freely expressed her disapproval of it she said she couldn't understand how anyone could find enjoyment in a boat which was always tipped way over on one side and which was constantly shifting over to the other side just as one had fairly succeeded in getting you to the latest position then the boom constantly swung back and forth endangering everyone's life each time it passed over their heads she said that she had noticed moreover that there was invariably either too much wind so that the sail had to be reefed and a top sail furiously hauled down or else the wind died out altogether and left the pleasure seekers to toil ashore in the blazing sun or to drift about in a fog she concluded by declaring that she never had an easy moment when anyone she cared for was in a sailboat more filled at such times sat gloomily by refraining from joining in the conversation he admired Miss Wainwright very much but he told himself that if it came to an absolute choice between any young woman and his yachting the latter must have the preference the time was now rapidly drawing near for the great annual regatta which was undoubtedly the event of the season to all yachtsmen Moorfield's boat was entered as usual and in such perfect condition that its owner felt quite sure of winning the first prize though he knew that the race would be a close one as several very fast boats were entered against him during these days immediately preceding the race Moorfield had returned to his old allegiance the Piazza saw him but seldom and the tennis courts no longer formed a background for his athletic figure and the other girls whispered that Miss Wainwright's charms although great were not sufficient to eclipse the annual regatta Moorfield still hovered about her in the evening but early morning found him at the helm of his beloved boat and experimenting on the amount of canvas that she could safely carry if Miss Wainwright felt at all chagrin that the apparent falling off of the young yachtsmen's devotion she gave no sign but remained to all outward appearance wholly unconscious of it she seemed to enjoy the society of the other swings equally well and took long walks with young Camden who was always on hand she was without doubt one of those calm happy natures which except gladly all the good things offered to them without sign for those withheld she evidently enjoyed Moorfield's society when he was with her but was equally happy and contented when he was elsewhere in fact hardly seeming to note the difference anyone however who had watched her critically on one particular afternoon when a tremendous and unexpected squall suddenly sprang up might have discerned an unusual amount of excitement visible upon her expressive features the peaceful bay was filled with angry white caps and the small boats came scuttling home like mad the guests at the hotel grouped about the Piazza eagerly watched the few boats that were still outside in the gale I suppose that Moorfield is somewhere out there somebody remarked casually and somebody else replied there's no need to worry about him he has more lives than a cat Miss Wainwright did not speak to anyone but stood looking out from the end of the Piazza with tightly compressed lips and with her eyes fixed upon a tiny speck far out across the harbor it was just supper time and the others all gradually drifted into the dining room without noticing that one lonely figure still remained motionless in a distant corner disregarding the fury of the gale which blew her hair wildly about and only deserting her post when the yachtsman's pretty white boat swung securely at its moorings that evening she seemed to be an unusually high spirit and when she met Moorfield after supper she greeted him with a gay unconcern which convinced him that she had been very little troubled by his exposure to the terrific squall he resented her calm indifference which contrasted strongly with the interest shown by the others who crowded round to hear description of his afternoon's experience and he made an effort to enlarge upon his imminent peril telling graphically how he had narrowly escaped being capsized in order to draw forth some expression of feeling from her his words however apparently failed to produce the desired effect as she only remarked lightly that she supposed that sort of thing was what a yachtsman enjoyed he remembered that she had said it worried her dreadfully to have anyone that she cared for out on the water and he meditated grimly and the attitude towards him had been clearly demonstrated he persuaded himself that he regretted his devotion to so heartless and unfeeling a young woman and decided that he had been rightly served for allowing himself to admire anyone whose tastes were so little in sympathy with his own Moorfield pictured to himself at intervals during the next few days a probable result of an engagement between them a picture which gave him more satisfaction than he wished to acknowledge and he forced himself to conclude that they could never be happy together her first request would be for him to give up yachting he felt sure of that yes, she would probably ask him to sell his boat at once that was something he could not do he would never relinquish yachting no, not for any woman so it was just as well that she cared nothing about him Moorfield felt sure that this was absolutely so as he dwelt upon her indifference on the day of the squall the day sped quickly by until only one day remained before the long talk of race and Moorfield, in consequence remained on shore just long enough to swallow the amount of food necessary to sustain life and actually failed to exchange a word with Miss Wainwright for over 24 hours the next morning dawned the perfection of a yachtsman's day the sky was dotted with a few fleecy clouds and a fine stiff breeze ruffled the surface of the water Moorfield came down to breakfast in the highest of spirits brimming over with that sense of goodwill towards all the world which is apt to accompany the gratification of one's own desires he saw in his mind's eye his boat flying through the water and rapidly increasing the distance between her and the boat's following as he passed through the office Miss Wainwright was standing at the desk and he fancied she smiled less brightly than usual and returned to his cheery good morning I'm glad that you have so fine a day for your race Mr. Moorfield she said in rather a seduced tone when do you start? she added at eleven he rejoined pulling out his watch I suppose that you will come down to the landing to wish me good luck I should like to but I'm afraid I can't something in her tone attracted his attention and he inquired anxiously is anything the matter Miss Wainwright? in response she pointed to a dispatch which she held in her hand my father is ill and they have telegraphs for me to come home she said simply so I shall take the twelve o'clock train Moorfield's high spirits suddenly evaporated I'm dreadfully sorry he exclaimed looking greatly distressed isn't this something I can do for you? thank you very much but I can't think of anything unless you want to order a buck board to take me over to the station I was just going to see about one I presume I ought to start soon after eleven as it is a four mile drive yes you certainly should start as soon as that he replied thoughtfully then he added but I don't see what I am to do without you I shall be the pitcher of despair I assure you ah but you will have your boat for consolation she returned endeavoring to speak lightly yes truly I had forgotten that he said imitating her careless tone I see you appreciate the extent of my requirements I shall have to go and finish my packing now she exclaimed hurriedly so perhaps I had better say goodbye at once since you will be off before I start she extended her hand to Moorfield who grasped it warmly and appeared quite unwilling to let it go again I hope we shall meet again she said faintly the acquaintance has been a very pleasant one to me I am just beginning to realize how pleasant it has been to me now that you are going away he said soberly while he looked steadily into her eyes which dropped before his gaze and now that I know you may be sure that we shall meet again and it will be very soon he added with decision goodbye I will go and see about your buckboard at once she watched him disappear and then slowly went upstairs with a mist gathering before her eyes when she reached her room she looked out of the window and caught sight of Moorfield wending his way towards the boat landing he is sorry to have me go she said to herself but he still has his yacht race at eleven o'clock promptly something resembling a swarm of big white butterflies skimmed across the water the breeze filled the snowy sails and the foam flew merrily as the many boats scuttled swiftly before the wind and the practice eyes of the yachtsmen sparkled with pleasure as they seared towards the distant bellboy Miss Wainwright, arrayed in a dark traveling suit stood bag in hand waiting for the buckboard to appear I hope that Mr. Moorfield did not forget the order she remarked to her aunt who was waiting to see her depart after bidding her aunt goodbye she glanced over her shoulder at the fleet of white sails and at the pier crowded with gay spectators and alive with flags and fluttering streamers which waved in the breeze then she turned with a sigh towards the buckboard which had just driven up to the door as the driver jumped out and extended his hand to his sister a sudden wave of color mounted to her cheeks Why? Mr. Moorfield, is that you? How very kind but I thought she faltered looking over her shoulder towards the flying sails he made no reply but helped her into the buckboard and sprang in after her and you gave up the race she murmured reproachfully just to drive me over to the station Oh, Mr. Moorfield he laughed erisively the race is there a race? I had quite forgotten it then he continued more gently do you suppose that all the yacht races in the world are anything to me when you are going away? Before they reached the station Moorfield had learned with much satisfaction that far from being indifferent on the afternoon of the squall Miss Wainwright had suffered untold agony until she saw him once more safely on shore as the train came into sight she murmured Oh, there is one thing which I want you to promise me, Clyde dear Anything in my power, dearest he replied feeling that to give up yachting forever would be a joy rather than otherwise It is this, she went on hurriedly I know that I am often very selfish though I don't mean to be and so I'm going to get you to help me try not to be so any longer You shall begin by promising not to give up your yachting on my account I want you to enjoy just as much as if I could go with you You will promise, won't you? and she stepped on board the train I will do anything to please you, my love he answered standing wrapped in admiration of this final revelation of her unselfishness until the train had steamed far out of sight Yet in spite of this promise Clyde Moorfield ceased to be a yachtsman from that moment His interest in his old pastime seemed to have suddenly departed and at the end of a month he had sold his boat to a friend who had several times offered to take it off from his hands in case he ever wished to dispose of it The other fellow said that Clyde was very much engaged now but declared that he would get over it in time They gave him six months at last accounts however two years had elapsed and he had failed to fulfill their predictions Mrs. Clyde Moorfield often asks him why he doesn't go off on a nice long cruise though I suspect she is none too anxious to have him do it but he always replies that somehow or other he has lost his interest in yachting and what is more he cannot understand how he ever could have cared so much about it End of section 2 Recording by Sia Tuine Section 3 of a hypocritical romance and other stories This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Sia Tuine A hypocritical romance and other stories by Caroline Ticknor The judgment of Paris reversed I little thought that I should ever be called upon to feel the role of the world famous Trojan especially as I had always bemoaned the fact that I was not blessed with my full share of the good looks with which my enemy, Paris was so plentifully endowed I say enemy advisedly for I disliked him from the first and have always cherished a wholesome disdain for him while I regarded his willingness to give up both wisdom and riches merely for the sake of a good looking woman as the very height of imbecility which could not have failed to bring upon him pundine punishment Being an old bachelor myself and blessed with what I considered a fair amount of common sense I felicitated myself that so far I had not fallen a victim to the charms of any member of the fair sex Possibly this may have been due to the fact that I had always avoided the danger and had let the fair ones severely alone My friends often tried to invagle me into society but I would not be tempted I was contented determined to let well enough alone I would not court unhappiness nor would I call upon anybody's pretty sisters No, not I On a certain winter's evening a little over a year ago I had been enjoying a very cozy dinner with my three friends Weston, Hollingsford, and Mitchell Charming fellows who though somewhat younger than I yet always showed a willingness to dine chemois which was not tempered by any discrepancy in years On this particular evening dinner was over and Mitchell was just dropping a second lump of sugar into his cup of black coffee when the conversation drifted in the direction of the German opera Madame Flambeau is without doubt as ugly a woman as ever existed I incidentally remarked Oh no! broken Weston Indeed she is not I have a cousin by whose side she would be considered a perfect beauty I hastened to declare that I did not believe it possible when Hollingsford asserted that he had a cousin whom he would match against any homely woman that Weston could produce I don't believe that your cousin is a circumstance to mine he continued enthusiastically She would take a prize in any exhibition and create a sensation that would fill the heart of the $10,000 beauty with despair I have no hesitation in saying that she is the plainest woman in the whole world Look here, interrupted Mitchell who had up to this point seemed quite absorbed in studying the weather indications presented by the bubbles floating across the surface of his coffee I have a cousin too whom I'm ready to put up against any two women that you can produce and I will wager any amount that she will knock Hollingsford's cousin into the middle of next week Impossible, responded that worthy gentleman I'll never yield the prize to anyone but Maria Agnes Palmer only daughter of my beloved Aunt Mary who always used to urge my mother to let me spend my vacations with her in order that she might make my life miserable until I came to regard the opening of school as a happy release she belonged to Macaulay's class of old Puritans who looked upon bear-baiting as a sin not because it gave pain to the bear but because it gave pleasure to the spectators and Maria Agnes is just like her mother so everyone tells me both in looks and disposition I say Weston, exclaimed Mitchell what fun it would be to bring them all together and let Lloyd here decide who is the ugliest then we will abide by his decision as he is, of course, the only disinterested one how could I, for instance, ever regard my cousin Kate Mitchell with an impartial eye when I remember how she comes to see my sisters just so often for the sole purpose of telling how injurious cigarettes are how very extravagant I am considered and what expensive roses she heard that I sent to Miss Wellington on the night of her reception which I attended after having regretted that business duties would prevent my coming to her Kate's musicale that same evening as though I could be in two places at once capital, cried Weston we will invite them all to dinner and Lloyd shall sit in judgment and the cousins of the defeated candidates shall pay for dinner what do you say, Lloyd? did you refuse to face such a galaxy of beauty? I replied that under the circumstances I would come to the dinner with pleasure though they knew that it was against my principles to mingle in feminine society at all but I begged that I might not be forced to decide so weighty a question I was, however, overruled and before I knew it had consented to shoulder the responsibility of selecting the least attractive cousin and had, moreover, said that I should be most happy to take the whole party to the theatre in the evening we finally came to the conclusion that during the dinner I should have ample time to decide which cousin carried off the palm of ugliness and to her, when dessert came on I should present a bonbonnier which in form of a gilded apple should surmount the tray of bonbons and thus shall the judgment of Paris be reversed Gailey exclaimed Mitchell as he condescendingly pocketed a couple of my best cigars before bidding me goodnight only remember that you must escort the heroine of the golden apple to the theatre yourself after having shown her such marked consideration ha ha ha ha he added to think of Lloyd really accompanying ladies to the theatre of his own free will we must keep a sharp look out for the cousin's fellows if we are going to expose them to the battery of his fascinations poor things I hope their heads will not be completely turned I joined the last with the others but after they had gone I sat down by the fire and thought what an idiot I had been to allow myself to be drawn into such juvenile nonsense was this all that my consistency amounted to? ought my good resolutions long preserved unbroken to be thus lightly set aside for anybody's cousins? should they prove ever so repulsive and disagreeable they nevertheless wore petticoats and belonged to that class of cold and heartless schemers whose society I had foresworn since the day long years since when my best friend Richard Jackson had died of a broken heart and I had determined dense forward to have nothing more to do with the treacherous sex after all it made very little difference to me cousins might come and go without affecting me in the least I had long ago become invulnerable and had learned coldly to pass the schemers by on the other side in less than three weeks from this time and for the eventful dinner arrived it was to take place in my apartment as I had heard that my sister Mrs. Winchester was to be in town and happy thought knowing that she would expect to dine with me I arranged to have her come and help me to receive the cousins for whose arrival I now waited with much greater interest than I would have wailingly acknowledged to anyone who could be aroused within me fairly by the arrival of three very ugly women it was probably the fact of their unusual ugliness that interested me so much and I had several times caught myself speculating upon the probable immensity of Miss Mitchell's mouth and the possible magnitude of Miss Palmer's nose I had even calculated in a scientific way the relative importance of these two given features admitted that each was just as ugly as it could be which was the most important a nose or a mouth both were quite necessary but there had been times when I had felt that I could dispense with my nose but my mouth? Never I was determined to be most conscientious in my decision this was the first time that I had invited any ladies to dine with me save an occasional distant relative from the country and my sister who always condescended to spend a long and unhappy evening with me once a year how much good advice could get into one evening and what unalterable opinions she had on every subject from politics to laundry bills no one else could be held responsible for her opinions she entered the world fully armed and equipped with them it was bad enough for women to have opinions at all and even when they had the sense to get them from some reasonable man they always lost sight of the essential points and permitted every little personal prejudice full sway in the end I could not but feel however a slight flutter of excitement at the thought of receiving three of the much avoided sex at once besides my sister I vaguely wondered if the man had dusted the rooms I knew that women objected very much to dust whenever I heard it said that any woman was a model housekeeper a vision arose before me of someone wearing a white apron who appears flourishing in one hand a dusting cloth and in the other a feather duster who invades the peaceful study or the tranquil sitting room and with her weapons of warfare begins her work of devastation she feels the air with minute particles and the dust rises at her approach she moves all the papers and alters the positions of the pipes and matchboxes then she takes down all the books and rubs the dust into the edges with the cloth before putting them all back in the wrong places I went over to the mantle and blew violently to see if it was dusty evidently it was where I sneezed how stupid of James I took out my seal cake or chip and switched it nervously up and down the mantle shelf until I succeeded in knocking off my best pipe just nicely colored too women were a perfect nuisance anyhow and had always made trouble for everyone since the advent of Eve nevertheless I could not control a desire to glance in the mirror each time that I went by it an offense of which I am seldom guilty and as I straightened my tie for the sixth time I was dimly conscious of a faint satisfaction at the thought of perhaps making somewhat of an impression in my role of genial host upon an invoice of femininity which had not been spoiled by too much flattery and adoration I was only forty after all and if not handsome my hair had not yet begun to grow thin on top and my teeth were really remarkably fine the genial smiling host was certainly quite my style I knew these thoughts to be unworthy of me as a scholar and scientist but we are all unworthy of ourselves now and then steps in the hall caused me to take up a paper and assume a careless position in my easy chair by the fire my sister had arrived and also Mitchell by whose side appeared the first of the cousins I wrote hastily and met them with great cordiality I am so very glad to know you, Miss Mitchell this is my sister, Mrs. Winchester who has kindly consented to preside over our little party and who will, I know, have the goodness to show the ladies where to leave their wraps before my first guests had taken off their things Hawingsford appeared accompanied by his cousin, Miss Palmer and closely followed by Weston and his cousin Miss Winifred Weston it was not until all were fairly seated at table that I succeeded in getting a good square look at the three cousins and then I know that I did stare good heavens there had been some dreadful mistake I looked from Hawingsford to Weston and from Weston to Mitchell but without eliciting a responsive glance then I looked once more at the cousins they were all three young and very beautiful slowly the truth dawned upon me I was being made game of I had been selected as a fitting victim for an amazing practical joke once I thought I caught a faint twinkle in Mitchell's perfidious eye which convinced me of the fact I doubted if these were their cousins at all it was impossible that every one of the three should have such a pretty cousin I would give them no satisfaction however they should not gather from my serene bearing that I recognized any departure from the original program so I smiled and conversed with the cousins one and all in a way calculated to show that I was perfectly at my ease Miss Mitchell was a brilliant brunette with laughing brown eyes and very rosy cheeks and dark wavy hair she was dressed in a gown of dark blue velvet which became her wonderfully a fact of which she seemed quite aware Miss Palmer and Miss Weston were both blondes though of quite different types the former was petite and charming with blue eyes pink cheeks and very fluffy light hair while the latter was tall and graceful with large gray eyes shaded by the longest of black lashes she had a wonderfully sweet smile which disclosed the whitest of teeth she wore her hair brushed straight back from her forehead and fastened in a simple knot at the back her dress was of plain dark green silk while Miss Palmer wore a charming suit of light gray surely the enemy had invaded my very camp but I would give no one the pleasure of knowing what a blaze of wrath I was inwardly stifling as I calmly passed the olives and begged the fair ones to try the salted almonds it was not that I really objected to the pretty girls but it was the principle of the thing my confidence had been abused and moreover the wretched men had dared to invite their cousins to come and laugh at me in my own house oh it was too much it was adding insult to injury but had those confounded fellows allowed their cousins to share the joke which they seemed to be enjoying so thoroughly no I would not believe them capable of such baseness all this indignation I smothered beneath the surface of politeness and gay repartee Miss Mitchell smiled upon me most enchantingly admired my pet etchings and thought me so very kind to take them to the theater afterward Miss Palmer looked at me with the frankest of big blue eyes and seemed to possess the wonderful faculty of drawing out one's opinions and preferences for the sole purpose of showing how perfectly she agreed with them all she seemed to have always thought just as I did on every subject as nearly as I could ascertain but ever and anon I fancied that I caught a significant smile passing from her to Weston and once I felt sure that Miss Palmer actually winked at Hollingsford this was more than flesh and blood could stand I knew that the color was mounting to my cheeks and that my temper was giving way with a supreme effort I turned and began to devote myself to Miss Winifred Weston in whose gray eyes I discerned a sympathetic quality which somehow reconciled me to the fact that she was not either old or ugly I found her so very sweet and interesting that I almost had forgotten that anyone else was present until I realized the dessert was upon the table and just in front of me I saw staring me in the face one small golden apple which surmounted an inviting dish of bonbons conversation suddenly seemed to flag and I knew that all eyes were upon the fatal apple how I wished it a thousand miles away and guarded by the fearful dragon of the Hesperides Miss Cape Mitchell's eyes were twinkling and Miss Palmer's glanced mischievously while Miss Weston cast a sympathetic glance at me I was sure and my sister who had slowly recovered from her first mute astonishment at my apparently new departure bent upon me a questioning look the unrivaled impudence of Hollingsford rose to the emergency What is this? he cried gaily not an apple of discord I hope I see by the expression of Lloyd's eye that he is going to present it to one of the young ladies what a pleasure it would have been to have obliged Hollingsford to swallow it then and there had he told Miss Weston that I was to select the least attractive cousin and present the apple to her now they were all waiting to see me give myself away make a fool of myself lose my temper or do something equally unbecoming my breath came rapidly I reached out my hand with a nervous motion toward the apple with a wild desire to seize it and hurl it wildly at the smiling and deceitful Mitchell across the table no I could not give it to Miss Weston and so make her think that I considered the others better looking when they neither of them could hold a candle to her in any respect but then if I gave it to either of the others I was pledged to escort that one to the theatre to sit by her to talk to her no indeed I would do nothing of the sort to be laughed at by Miss Mitchell to be made fun of by Miss Palmer I would give it to my sister first and I prepared to murmur something idiotic about age before beauty the pause was in reality a brief one but it was a very bitter one when suddenly an angel of light came to my rescue in the guise of Miss Weston who herself reached across to the accursed dish and took the golden apple in her dainty fingers if this is an apple of discord she cried gaily it is a dangerous thing and we should beware how we trifle with it take warning by the fate of the first Paris Mr. Lloyd and do not call down upon your head the wrath of Juno and Minerva the modern solution is quite different Paris must keep the apple himself and with it his dangerous opinions then she added presenting it to me with a smile when the judgment is reversed and Paris instead of Aphrodite receives the apple surely no one can complain I accepted it with a grateful glance calculated to convey all the admiration I longed to express while I replied that Paris certainly has nothing to complain of when Aphrodite herself bestows so great a favour upon him it was a delightful and happy conclusion after all and I rose from the table in the highest of spirits which were not lessened by the visible shade of disappointment depicted on the faces of several of the party at my having been allowed to escape so easily I offered my arm to Miss Weston coupled with the hope that she would accept me as her escort for the evening which she did and what a perfect evening it was and that was the beginning of the end yes, the end of my old bachelorhood a year ago I would never have believed that such a thing could happen it was wholly preposterous impossible now it seems the most natural thing in the world what poor, unstable human creatures we are all of us still if we must change let it be for the better as in my case Mitchell, Hollingsford and Weston had their little joke but he laughs best who laughs last and Weston had lost his pretty cousin into the bargain I don't know how she ever consented to have me she says that she married me to get rid of me but my sister to whom all jokes are very weighty and incomprehensible affairs says that it was a very queer way of getting rid of me, she thinks among my dearest possessions I cherish one small golden apple which I will never part with save to one to whom should she require it I might return my treasure vowing that Paris was right after all for it belonged to the queen of love and beauty and to her alone End of section 3 Recording by Sia Tuinae


Ukrainian Hymars strikes the five Russian camps on Tsarilak Island inflicting heavy losses. Ukrainian forces conducted Hymars strikes on five Russian camps located on the Tsarilak Island in front of Skadovsk, according to Euromaidan Press media outlet. Apparently, the recent drone strike on Crimea revealed a weakness in Russian airspace, allowing Ukrainians to operate freely in the deep, rear sky. It is noted that a Ukrainian reconnaissance drone operator flew along the southern shore of the Kursan region and identified a relatively large Russian base on the Tsarilak Island. The operator discovered that Russian forces felt comfortable and relaxed in this distant base more than 85 kilometres from the contact line on the opposite side of the Kursan region. Despite digging trenches along the shore, nobody expected a large-scale amphibious operation in this area, leading Russian soldiers to accumulate trucks and equipment in plain sight. However, their biggest mistake was assembling everyone outside every morning due to the base's distance from the front line. Ukrainian drone operators observed this pattern and marked precise areas where all five Russian detachments assembled in lines. Exploiting this information, Ukrainians waited until all Russian detachments were outside and eliminated them simultaneously. As a result, up to 200 Russian soldiers were lost and Russian sources blamed their commanders for neglecting operational security. In another incident, Russian forces continued to lose troops and equipment by using large columns near the front line. Two weeks ago, Ukrainians spotted a Russian column near Ocheretovati, only 15 kilometres away from the hottest part of the front line. Ukrainians swiftly conducted a strike, completely destroying the entire column. Footage confirmed the extent of the damage, with seven trucks loaded with ammunition and possibly personnel lost. This lack of adjustment to the realities of war has caused repeated losses for Russian forces every two weeks. Some said that if 17 months of war and dozens of such cases did not teach Russians anything, then they are unlikely to adjust their practices in the future.


As I was sort of forced to adapt to this, I can't imagine teaching my seminars in a face-to-face mode without it. And I think that's for me that kind of comment about the response papers that were for me a wonderful way to get students to think through writing, to get them practicing thinking, and to prepare them for discussion. You know, I don't think that discussion is a level playing field for all my students. So the more that I can do to help them feel like they are ready to come to class with something to contribute, the more I can kind of backchannel with them. But also the way that my students can shape the discussion, you know, getting to see conversations that have already played out around a text and knowing that then we can walk into the classroom with something that like we're kind of ready to go with. I think that's wonderful instead of, you know, and I loved response papers, but I felt like only I had that insider information that, you know, student X and student Y vehemently disagreed, but it's sort of more fun when they can come to that conclusion and when they can then come to class ready to kind of back up their opinions or to know that's a point of potential disagreement.