found time on his short visit south to come all the way out to Groats unless he had heard the tale and found it sufficiently romantic to take his fancy.
Besides the celebrity, the party included Dorothea Barnum, the playwright, her brother, Libby of course, and Libbyâs dull old husband who had the sensational wart on his nose; but none of these caught the imagination of the young James. Throughout the entire day his attention was absorbed by another of the visitors, and the tall young lady who was with him.
He was a young man whose name was Edwin Castor, and the lady was his fiancée, a cold, unhappy-looking girl. Libby was chaperoning her, and she adopted a motherly attitude towards her, which James thought ridiculous and rather like a fat little hen trying to nestle a swan. However, it was the man who interested him, and nothing else that happened on that day or for many days afterwards, appeared to have any importance compared with that one, miraculous encounter.
From the first moment that James set eyes upon Castor he veneratedthe man. There is no other word for his sudden, flaming admiration. He found out all he could about him immediately, and after that quite openly followed him about. Castor was a friend of Lucius, and his senior at the Bar. Libby whispered the information to James and told him to be quiet, for heavenâs sake. James did not notice her manner; he was enchanted and he edged round the little group which was sitting out in the sunlight after the meal until he could settle down near his hero.
James never understood why Castor should have attracted him so unless it was that he was so entirely different from himself. There was no âcartynessâ whatever about him. He was in the early thirties, not very tall but slenderly built, with a clear-skinned aesthetic face, a great dome of a head, and calmly intelligent grey-blue eyes. He was still golden-haired, and his hands, which delighted James, who could hardly take his eyes off them, were perfectly shaped. In one way, perhaps, they were horrible hands, almost conventionalized and inhuman, but James liked them because he had never seen any like them before. He sat on the grass and gaped at the man. Nothing he said or did escaped him, and his slightest movement and change of expression was noted and admired. He had such a remarkable ease; he seemed to be so free, so superior to all the emotional agonies which so bothered James in these days. It did not seem possible that he could ever be angry or ashamed; he had a grave, kindly smile, and there was a civilized remoteness about him which attracted the youngest Galantry out of all reason. James saw him as a sort of human âEclipse,â and he could not look away.
The lady was interesting also. She, too, had much of the same quiet grace, but whereas Castor was obviously happy she did look discontented in spite of her beautiful face. Apparently she was kind, though, for she smiled at James with a sudden warmth which nearly made him faint, it made him so proud.
Very little was said to him by either of them, and the really amazing thing is that he never saw either of them again, and yet they made such a difference to his life. However, it may be that it was that very fact which made the whole thing possible, for he never knew them well enough for them to become human and fallible in his eyes, and they remained to him a symbol of perfection.
While James was having this emotional experience, considerably more far-reaching in effect than first love, of which it took the place, the party of course was continuing. James saw none of it, it passed over his head, and when Shulie entertained the distinguished guests he did not share in the general flurry of polite disappointment and embarrassment. He did not live until he was once again in peace sitting on the grass a few paces away from Castorâs chair. Most of the othershad gone off to inspect the glasshouses, but old Will Galantry remained
Besides the celebrity, the party included Dorothea Barnum, the playwright, her brother, Libby of course, and Libbyâs dull old husband who had the sensational wart on his nose; but none of these caught the imagination of the young James. Throughout the entire day his attention was absorbed by another of the visitors, and the tall young lady who was with him.
He was a young man whose name was Edwin Castor, and the lady was his fiancée, a cold, unhappy-looking girl. Libby was chaperoning her, and she adopted a motherly attitude towards her, which James thought ridiculous and rather like a fat little hen trying to nestle a swan. However, it was the man who interested him, and nothing else that happened on that day or for many days afterwards, appeared to have any importance compared with that one, miraculous encounter.
From the first moment that James set eyes upon Castor he veneratedthe man. There is no other word for his sudden, flaming admiration. He found out all he could about him immediately, and after that quite openly followed him about. Castor was a friend of Lucius, and his senior at the Bar. Libby whispered the information to James and told him to be quiet, for heavenâs sake. James did not notice her manner; he was enchanted and he edged round the little group which was sitting out in the sunlight after the meal until he could settle down near his hero.
James never understood why Castor should have attracted him so unless it was that he was so entirely different from himself. There was no âcartynessâ whatever about him. He was in the early thirties, not very tall but slenderly built, with a clear-skinned aesthetic face, a great dome of a head, and calmly intelligent grey-blue eyes. He was still golden-haired, and his hands, which delighted James, who could hardly take his eyes off them, were perfectly shaped. In one way, perhaps, they were horrible hands, almost conventionalized and inhuman, but James liked them because he had never seen any like them before. He sat on the grass and gaped at the man. Nothing he said or did escaped him, and his slightest movement and change of expression was noted and admired. He had such a remarkable ease; he seemed to be so free, so superior to all the emotional agonies which so bothered James in these days. It did not seem possible that he could ever be angry or ashamed; he had a grave, kindly smile, and there was a civilized remoteness about him which attracted the youngest Galantry out of all reason. James saw him as a sort of human âEclipse,â and he could not look away.
The lady was interesting also. She, too, had much of the same quiet grace, but whereas Castor was obviously happy she did look discontented in spite of her beautiful face. Apparently she was kind, though, for she smiled at James with a sudden warmth which nearly made him faint, it made him so proud.
Very little was said to him by either of them, and the really amazing thing is that he never saw either of them again, and yet they made such a difference to his life. However, it may be that it was that very fact which made the whole thing possible, for he never knew them well enough for them to become human and fallible in his eyes, and they remained to him a symbol of perfection.
While James was having this emotional experience, considerably more far-reaching in effect than first love, of which it took the place, the party of course was continuing. James saw none of it, it passed over his head, and when Shulie entertained the distinguished guests he did not share in the general flurry of polite disappointment and embarrassment. He did not live until he was once again in peace sitting on the grass a few paces away from Castorâs chair. Most of the othershad gone off to inspect the glasshouses, but old Will Galantry remained
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