CHAPTER XVI

LeonardacceptedtheinvitationtoteanextSaturday.Buthewasrightthevisitprovedaconspicuousfailure. “Sugar?”saidMargaret. “Cake?”saidHelen.“Thebigcakeorthelittledeadlies?I’mafraidyouthoughtmyletterratherodd,butwe’llexplain—wearen’todd,really—noraffected,really.We’reover-expressive—that’sall.” Asalady’slap-dogLeonarddidnotexcel.HewasnotanItalian,stilllessaFrenchman,inwhosebloodthererunstheveryspiritofpersiflageandofgraciousrepartee.HiswitwastheCockney’sitopenednodoorsintoimagination,andHelenwasdrawnupshortby“Themorealadyhastosay,thebetter,”administeredwaggishly. “Ohyes,”shesaid. “Ladiesbrighten—” “Yes,Iknow.Thedarlingsareregularsunbeams.Letmegiveyouaplate.” “Howdoyoulikeyourwork?”interposedMargaret. He,too,wasdrawnupshort.Hewouldnothavethesewomenpryingintohiswork.TheywereRomance,andsowastheroomtowhichhehadatlastpenetrated,withthequeersketchesofpeoplebathinguponitswalls,andsoweretheverytea-cups,withtheirdelicatebordersofwildstrawberries.Buthewouldnotletromanceinterferewithhislife.Thereisthedeviltopaythen. “Oh,wellenough,”heanswered. “YourcompanyisthePorphyrion,isn’tit?” “Yes,that’sso.”—becomingratheroffended.“It’sfunnyhowthingsgetround.” “Whyfunny?”askedHelen,whodidnotfollowtheworkingsofhismind.“Itwaswrittenaslargeaslifeonyourcard,andconsideringwewrotetoyouthere,andthatyourepliedonthestampedpaper—” “WouldyoucallthePorphyriononeofthebigInsuranceCompanies?”pursuedMargaret. “Itdependsonwhatyoucallbig.” “Imeanbybig,asolid,well-establishedconcern,thatoffersareasonablygoodcareertoitsemployes.” “Icouldn’tsay—somewouldtellyouonethingandothersanother,”saidtheemployeeuneasily.“Formyownpart”—heshookhishead—“IonlybelievehalfIhear.Notthatevenit’ssafer.Thosecleveronescometotheworsegrief,I’veoftennoticed.Ah,youcan’tbetoocareful.” Hedrank,andwipedhismoustache,whichwasgoingtobeoneofthosemoustachesthatalwaysdroopintotea-cups—morebotherthanthey’reworth,surely,andnotfashionableeither. “Iquiteagree,andthat’swhyIwascurioustoknowisitasolid,well-establishedconcern?” Leonardhadnoidea.Heunderstoodhisowncornerofthemachine,butnothingbeyondit.Hedesiredtoconfessneitherknowledgenorignorance,andunderthesecircumstances,anothermotionoftheheadseemedsafest.Tohim,astotheBritishpublic,thePorphyrionwasthePorphyrionoftheadvertisement—agiant,intheclassicalstyle,butdrapedsufficiently,whoheldinonehandaburningtorch,andpointedwiththeothertoSt.Paul’sandWindsorCastle.Alargesumofmoneywasinscribedbelow,andyoudrewyourownconclusions.ThisgiantcausedLeonardtodoarithmeticandwriteletters,toexplaintheregulationstonewclients,andre-explainthemtooldones.Agiantwasofanimpulsivemorality—oneknewthatmuch.HewouldpayforMrs.Munt’shearthrugwithostentatioushaste,alargeclaimhewouldrepudiatequietly,andfightcourtbycourt.Buthistruefightingweight,hisantecedents,hisamourswithothermembersofthecommercialPantheon—allthesewereasuncertaintoordinarymortalsasweretheescapadesofZeus.Whilethegodsarepowerful,welearnlittleaboutthem.Itisonlyinthedaysoftheirdecadencethatastronglightbeatsintoheaven. “WeweretoldthePorphyrion’snogo,”blurtedHelen.“Wewantedtotellyouthat’swhywewrote.” “Afriendofoursdidthinkthatitisinsufficientlyreinsured,”saidMargaret. NowLeonardhadhisclue. HemustpraisethePorphyrion.“Youcantellyourfriend,”hesaid,“thathe’squitewrong.” “Oh,good!” Theyoungmancolouredalittle.Inhiscircletobewrongwasfatal.TheMissSchlegelsdidnotmindbeingwrong.Theyweregenuinelygladthattheyhadb