Kind Hearts And Coronets Page #4

and as beautiful.

My dear, this is Mr. Mazzini.

He has a Thornton Pickard.

Mr. Mazzini, my wife.

I'm no photographer myself,

Mr. Mazzini...

but I share my husband's pleasure

in welcoming a fellow enthusiast.

- You'll take some sherry?

- Well, thank you, I -

My husband and I never touch alcohol,

but we see no reason, on that account...

to enforce our views on our guests.

Glass of sherry, Harwood.

I have some printing frames

out in the sun.

If you don't mind,

I'll just run out and see to them.

Have you been in the neighborhood long,

Mr. Mazzini?

A few hours only.

I was cycling through the village...

and felt compelled to stop

and make a study or two of the inn.

- It looked so charming.

- It does look charming.

But I'm afraid it's, by no means, an influence

for good in the lives of our people here.

The landlord

is a former coachman of ours.

I have spoken to him several times about

the amount of drinking that goes on there...

but he continues to allow it.

It is, after all, I suppose,

his livelihood.

I do not consider he has the right

to make a livelihood...

by exploiting the weaknesses

of his fellow men.

Put as you put it,

it does sound deplorable.

It is deplorable.

Will you excuse me a moment?

Harwood.

I could well understand

Henry's visits to the village inn...

and his stock of refreshments

in the darkroom.

Mrs. D'Ascoyne was beautiful,

but what a prig she was.

I wondered how

to ingratiate myself with her...

and decided to attack on her own ground

and with her own weapons.

I'm afraid we can offer you

only a simple luncheon, Mr. Mazzini.

You are most kind,

but I feel I should not intrude.

- It is no intrusion.

- I'm afraid it is.

- May I explain?

- Please do.

It was only when your husband

told me his name...

that I realized that I'd come by chance

into the most embarrassing situation.

My mother was a member

of the D'Ascoyne family.

She married,

as they thought, beneath her.

And from that day,

they refused to recognize her...

or my existence.

I feel that, although in the circumstances

you might hesitate to say so to my face...

you and your husband would prefer

not to receive me at your table.

Perhaps you would be good enough

to explain matters to your husband for me.

I shall, naturally,

leave the neighborhood at once.

Mr. Mazzini, please sit down.

Oh.

You have exhibited

the most delicate feelings.

I know nothing of the history

to which you refer...

but I have often felt that the attitude

of my husband's family...

has failed to move with the times -

that they think too much

of the rights of nobility...

and too little of its duties.

The very honesty of your behavior

would appear to me to prove them wrong.

Was Lord Tennyson far from the mark

when he wrote:

"Kind hearts are more than coronets...

and simple faith than Norman blood"?

I hope you will stay to luncheon.

Oh, in that case,

I shall be delighted and honored.

My impersonation

of a man of sterling character...

was such a resounding success...

that Mrs. D'Ascoyne invited me to spend

the following Saturday-to-Monday with them.

When I returned to the somewhat

contrasting atmosphere of Clapham...

I found the house in a whirl with preparation

for Sibella's wedding to Lionel...

which was to take place next day.

Before going to bed that evening,

I wandered into the old nursery...

to fetch a book I'd left there.

Penny for them.

Oh, hello, Louis.

You're not looking as radiantly happy as young

females in your situation are supposed to look.

I was just thinking of all the fun

we've had in this room.

- You and I and Graham.

- And Lionel.

Yes, and Lionel.

Oh, Louis, I don't want to marry Lionel!

- Why not?

- He's so dull!

I must admit he exhibits the most

extraordinary capacity for middle age...

that I've ever encountered

in a young man of 24.

However, it's a bit late in the day

to think of that, isn't it?

I know.

That only makes it worse.

- I always told you you should marry me.

- I know.

That makes it worse too.

You look more lovely today

than I've ever seen you.

You're a lucky man, Lionel.

Take my word for it.

I could not help feeling

that even Sibella's capacity for lying...

was going to be taxed to the utmost.

Time had brought me revenge

on Lionel.

And as the Italian proverb says:

"Revenge is a dish which people of taste

prefer to eat cold. "

The following Saturday

I left London in the middle of the night...

and reached Henry's house

just before dawn.

It took a mere three minutes

to substitute petrol...

for the paraffin

in the darkroom lamp.

And I then repaired to a meadow

and took a few hours'sleep...

while awaiting the hour at which

I could reasonably arrive at the house.

The day dragged by

in an agony of suspense for me.

Henry took photograph

after photograph...

but seemed to have no urge whatever

to follow it up with a visit to the darkroom.

Bravo, Edith!

I began to fear

that he had suddenly taken the pledge.

I think I'll just go and develop these

before tea. Care to come?

I would, indeed, but I have

a slight headache - the sun, I think.

And I'm afraid the chemicals

wouldn't improve it.

Mr. Mazzini and I will have tea

under the tulip tree.

I've always found that

most beneficial for a headache.

I'm afraid Henry

will think me a poor enthusiast.

I sometimes think

that he is too great a one.

In a way, I am to blame for it.

Before we were married,

he had few interests.

He used to spend the greater part

of each day at his club.

I felt that such a life was unhealthy and

persuaded him to live here in the country.

I hoped that perhaps he would interest himself

in the welfare of our tenantry, as I do.

But he became interested in photography

on our honeymoon...

and since then it has become

the major preoccupation of his life.

- Mr. Mazzini.

- Yes.

I hope you will forgive my speaking to you

on a personal matter...

but it worries me that Henry

should spend so much time on his hobby...

that he has little left

for any more useful activity.

Am I right to let him

go on like this?

I could hardly point out

that Henry now had no time left...

for any kind of activity...

so I continued

to discuss his future.

He has never shown any wish

for a career in politics?

- None.

- Nor any other ambitions?

One only- to win a prize

at the Salon Photography in Brussels.

What is it?

They're just burning some leaves

at the bottom of the garden.

But they can't be at this time of year.

- Henry!

- No. You stay here.

Needless to say, I was too late.

The funeral service was held

prior to interment in the family vault.

Mrs. D'Ascoyne,

who had discerned in me...

a man of delicate sensibility

and high purpose...

asked me to accompany her

on the cross-countryjourney.

"To everything there is a season...

"and a time to every purpose

under the heaven.

A time to be born, and a time to die. "

The occasion

was interesting in that it provided me...

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