AtthetimeofLilia’sdeathPhilipHerritonwasjusttwenty-fouryearsofage—indeedthenewsreachedSawstononhisbirthday.Hewasatall,weakly-builtyoungman,whoseclotheshadtobejudiciouslypaddedontheshouldersinordertomakehimpassmuster.Hisfacewasplainratherthannot,andtherewasacuriousmixtureinitofgoodandbad.Hehadafineforeheadandagoodlargenose,andbothobservationandsympathywereinhiseyes.Butbelowthenoseandeyesallwasconfusion,andthosepeoplewhobelievethatdestinyresidesinthemouthandchinshooktheirheadswhentheylookedathim.
Philiphimself,asaboy,hadbeenkeenlyconsciousofthesedefects.Sometimeswhenhehadbeenbulliedorhustledaboutatschoolhewouldretiretohiscubicleandexaminehisfeaturesinalooking-glass,andhewouldsighandsay,“Itisaweakface.Ishallnevercarveaplaceformyselfintheworld.”Butasyearswentonhebecameeitherlessself-consciousormoreself-satisfied.Theworld,hefound,madeanicheforhimasitdidforeveryone.Decisionofcharactermightcomelater—orhemighthaveitwithoutknowing.Atalleventshehadgotasenseofbeautyandasenseofhumour,twomostdesirablegifts.Thesenseofbeautydevelopedfirst.Itcausedhimattheageoftwentytowearparti-colouredtiesandasquashyhat,tobelatefordinneronaccountofthesunset,andtocatchartfromBurne-JonestoPraxiteles.Attwenty-twohewenttoItalywithsomecousins,andthereheabsorbedintooneaestheticwholeolive-trees,bluesky,frescoes,countryinns,saints,peasants,mosaics,statues,beggars.HecamebackwiththeairofaprophetwhowouldeitherremodelSawstonorrejectit.Alltheenergiesandenthusiasmsofaratherfriendlesslifehadpassedintothechampionshipofbeauty.
Inashorttimeitwasover.NothinghadhappenedeitherinSawstonorwithinhimself.Hehadshockedhalf-a-dozenpeople,squabbledwithhissister,andbickeredwithhismother.Heconcludedthatnothingcouldhappen,notknowingthathumanloveandloveoftruthsometimesconquerwhereloveofbeautyfails.
Alittledisenchanted,alittletired,butaestheticallyintact,heresumedhisplacidlife,relyingmoreandmoreonhissecondgift,thegiftofhumour.Ifhecouldnotreformtheworld,hecouldatalleventslaughatit,thusattainingatleastanintellectualsuperiority.Laughter,hereadandbelieved,wasasignofgoodmoralhealth,andhelaughedoncontentedly,tillLilia’smarriagetoppledcontentmentdownforever.Italy,thelandofbeauty,wasruinedforhim.Shehadnopowertochangemenandthingswhodweltinher.She,too,couldproduceavarice,brutality,stupidity—and,whatwasworse,vulgarity.Itwasonhersoilandthroughherinfluencethatasillywomanhadmarriedacad.HehatedGino,thebetrayerofhislife’sideal,andnowthatthesordidtragedyhadcome,itfilledhimwithpangs,notofsympathy,butoffinaldisillusion.
ThedisillusionwasconvenientforMrs.Herriton,whosawatryinglittleperiodaheadofher,andwasgladtohaveherfamilyunited.
“Arewetogointomourning,doyouthink?”Shealwaysaskedherchildren’sadvicewherepossible.
Harrietthoughtthattheyshould.ShehadbeendetestabletoLiliawhileshelived,butshealwaysfeltthatthedeaddeserveattentionandsympathy.“Afterallshehassuffered.Thatletterkeptmeawakefornights.Thewholethingislikeoneofthosehorriblemodernplayswherenooneisin‘theright.’Butifwehavemourning,itwillmeantellingIrma.”
“OfcoursewemusttellIrma!”saidPhilip.
“Ofcourse,”saidhismother.“ButIthinkwecanstillnottellheraboutLilia’smarriage.”