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time； and knew that they were as a rule most ordinary； hum…drum kind of
people； was quite prepared for her fate。 She remembered her
astonishment as a girl when； having laughed and cried at the play； and
taken the chief actor as her ideal hero； she had had him pointed out to her
one day in Regent Street； and found him to be a most commonplace…
looking man； the very last person one would have supposed capable of
stirring the hearts of a great audience。
Meanwhile dinner progressed； and Mrs。 Selldon talked to an empty…
headed but loquacious man on her left； and racked her brains for
something to say to the alarmingly silent author on her right。 She
remembered hearing that Charles Dickens would often sit silent through
the whole of dinner； observing quietly those about him； but that at dessert
he would suddenly come to life and keep the whole table in roars of
laughter。 She feared that Mr。 Shrewsbury meant to imitate the great
novelist in the first particular； but was scarcely likely to follow his
example in the last。 At length she asked him what he thought of the
cathedral； and a few tepid remarks followed。
〃How unutterably this good lady bores me！〃 thought the author。
〃How odd it is that his characters talk so well in his books； and that he
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is such a stick！〃 thought Mrs。 Selldon。
〃I suppose it's the effect of cathedral…town atmosphere；〃 reflected the
author。
〃I suppose he is eaten up with conceit and won't trouble himself to talk
to me；〃 thought the hostess。
By the time the fish had been removed they had arrived at a state of
mutual contempt。 Mindful of the reputation they had to keep up；
however； they exerted themselves a little more while the entrees went
round。
〃Seldom reads； I should fancy； and never thinks！〃 reflected the author；
glancing at Mrs。 Selldon's placid unintellectual face。 〃What on earth can I
say to her？〃
〃Very unpractical； I am sure；〃 reflected Mrs。 Selldon。 〃The sort of
man who lives in a world of his own； and only lays down his pen to take
up a book。 What subject shall I start？〃
〃What delightful weather we have been having the last few days！〃
observed the author。 〃Real genuine summer weather at last。〃 The same
remark had been trembling on Mrs。 Selldon's lips。 She assented with
great cheerfulness and alacrity； and over that invaluable topic； which is
always so safe； and so congenial； and so ready to hand； they grew quite
friendly； and the conversation for fully five minutes was animated。
An interval of thought followed。
〃How wearisome is society！〃 reflected Mrs。 Selldon。 〃It is hard that
we must spend so much money in giving dinners and have so much
trouble for so little enjoyment。〃
〃One pays dearly for fame；〃 reflected the author。 〃What a
confounded nuisance it is to waste all this time when there are the last
proofs of 'What Caste？' to be done for the nine…o'clock post to…morrow
morning！ Goodness knows what time I shall get to bed to… night！〃
Then Mrs。 Selldon thought regretfully of the comfortable easy chair
that she usually enjoyed after dinner； and the ten minutes' nap； and the
congenial needle…work。 And Mark Shrewsbury thought of his chambers
in Pump Court； and longed for his type…writer； and his books； and his
swivel chair； and his favourite meerschaum。
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THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SLANDER
〃I should be less afraid to talk if there were not always the horrible
idea that he may take down what one says；〃 thought Mrs。 Selldon。
〃I should be less bored if she would only be her natural self；〃 reflected
the author。 〃And would not talk prim platitudes。〃 （This was hard； for
he had talked nothing else himself。） 〃Does she think she is so interesting
that I am likely to study her for my next book？〃
〃Have you been abroad this summer？〃 inquired Mrs。 Selldon； making
another spasmodic attempt at conversation。
〃No； I detest travelling；〃 replied Mark Shrewsbury。 〃When I need
change I just settle down in some quiet country district for a few months
somewhere near Windsor； or Reigate； or Muddleton。 There is nothing to
my mind like our English scenery。〃
〃Oh； do you know Muddleton？〃 exclaimed Mrs。 Selldon。 〃Is it not a
charming little place？ I often stay in the neighbourhood with the Milton…
Cleaves。〃
〃I know Milton…Cleave well；〃 said the author。 〃A capital fellow；
quite the typical country gentleman。〃
〃Is he not？〃 said Mrs。 Selldon； much relieved to have found this
subject in common。 〃His wife is a great friend of mine； she is full of life
and energy； and does an immense amount of good。 Did you say you had
stayed with them？〃
〃No； but last year I took a house in that neighbourhood for a few
months； a most charming little place it was； just fit for a lonely bachelor。
I dare say you remember itIvy Cottage； on the Newton Road。〃
〃Did you stay there？ Now what a curious coincidence！ Only this
morning I heard from Mrs。 Milton…Cleave that Ivy Cottage has been taken
this summer by a Mr。 Sigismund Zaluski； a Polish merchant； who is doing
untold harm in the neighbourhood。 He is a very clever； unscrupulous
man； and has managed to take in almost every one。〃
〃Why； what is he？ A swindler？ Or a burglar in disguise； like the
HOUSE ON THE MARSH fellow？〃 asked the author； with a little twinkle
of amusement in his face。
〃Oh； much worse than that；〃 said Mrs。 Selldon； lowering her voice。 〃I
assure you； Mr。 Shrewsbury； you would hardly credit the story if I were to
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tell it you； it is really stranger than fiction。〃 Mark Shrewsbury pricked up
his ears； he no longer