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over life。 This； however； is a consummation which will remain
devoutly to be wished； for there is a limit to human complaisance。
One will never know the exact measure of one's infecting power； or
whether； indeed； one is not just a long soporific。
A writer they say； should not favouritize among his creations； but
then a writer should not do so many things that be does。 This
writer； certainly； confesses to having favourites； and of his novels
so far be likes best： The Forsyte Series； 〃The Country House〃；
〃Fraternity〃； 〃The Dark Flower〃； and 〃Five Tales〃； believing these to
be the works which most fully achieve fusion of seer with thing seen；
most subtly disclose the individuality of their author； and best
reveal such of truth as has been vouchsafed to him。
JOHN GALSWORTHY。
TO
MY SISTER
BLANCHE LILIAN SAUTER
VILLA RUBEIN
I
Walking along the river wall at Botzen； Edmund Dawney said to Alois
Harz： 〃Would you care to know the family at that pink house； Villa
Rubein？〃
Harz answered with a smile：
〃Perhaps。〃
〃Come with me then this afternoon。〃
They had stopped before an old house with a blind； deserted look；
that stood by itself on the wall； Harz pushed the door open。
〃Come in； you don't want breakfast yet。 I'm going to paint the river
to…day。〃
He ran up the bare broad stairs； and Dawney followed leisurely； his
thumbs hooked in the armholes of his waistcoat； and his head thrown
back。
In the attic which filled the whole top story； Harz had pulled a
canvas to the window。 He was a young man of middle height； square
shouldered； active； with an angular face； high cheek…bones； and a
strong； sharp chin。 His eyes were piercing and steel…blue； his
eyebrows very flexible； nose long and thin with a high bridge； and
his dark； unparted hair fitted him like a cap。 His clothes looked as
if he never gave them a second thought。
This room； which served for studio； bedroom； and sitting…room； was
bare and dusty。 Below the window the river in spring flood rushed
down the valley； a stream； of molten bronze。 Harz dodged before the
canvas like a fencer finding his distance； Dawney took his seat on a
packingcase。
〃The snows have gone with a rush this year；〃 he drawled。 〃The Talfer
comes down brown； the Eisack comes down blue； they flow into the
Etsch and make it green； a parable of the Spring for you； my
painter。〃
Harz mixed his colours。
〃I've no time for parables；〃 he said； 〃no time for anything。 If I
could be guaranteed to live to ninety…nine； like Titianhe had a
chance。 Look at that poor fellow who was killed the other day！ All
that struggle； and thenjust at the turn！〃
He spoke English with a foreign accent； his voice was rather harsh；
but his smile very kindly。
Dawney lit a cigarette。
〃You painters；〃 he said； 〃are better off than most of us。 You can
strike out your own line。 Now if I choose to treat a case out of the
ordinary way and the patient dies； I'm ruined。〃
〃My dear Doctorif I don't paint what the public likes； I starve；
all the same I'm going to paint in my own way； in the end I shall
come out on top。〃
〃It pays to work in the groove； my friend； until you've made your
name； after thatdo what you like； they'll lick your boots all the
same。〃
〃Ah； you don't love your work。〃
Dawney answered slowly： 〃Never so happy as when my hands are full。
But I want to make money； to get known； to have a good time； good
cigars； good wine。 I hate discomfort。 No； my boy； I must work it on
the usual lines； I don't like it； but I must lump it。 One starts in
life with some notion of the idealit's gone by the board with me。
I've got to shove along until I've made my name； and then； my little
manthen〃
〃Then you'll be soft！ 〃You pay dearly for that first period！〃
〃Take my chance of that； there's no other way。〃
〃Make one！〃
〃Humph！〃
Harz poised his brush； as though it were a spear：
〃A man must do the best in him。 If he has to sufferlet him！〃
Dawney stretched his large soft body； a calculating look had come
into his eyes。
〃You're a tough little man！〃 he said。
〃I've had to be tough。〃
Dawney rose； tobacco smoke was wreathed round his unruffled hair。
〃Touching Villa Rubein；〃 he said； 〃shall I call for you？ It's a
mixed household； English mostlyvery decent people。〃
〃No； thank you。 I shall be painting all day。 Haven't time to know
the sort of people who expect one to change one's clothes。〃
〃As you like； ta…to！〃 And； puffing out his chest； Dawney vanished
through a blanket looped across the doorway。
Harz set a pot of coffee on a spirit…lamp； and cut himself some
bread。 Through the window the freshness of the morning came； the
scent of sap and blossom and young leaves； the scent of earth； and
the mountains freed from winter； the new flights and songs of birds；
all the odorous； enchanted； restless Spring。
There suddenly appeared through the doorway a white rough…haired
terrier dog； black…marked about the face； with shaggy tan eyebrows。
He sniffed at Harz； showed the whites round his eyes； and uttered a
sharp bark。 A young voice called：
〃Scruff！ Thou naughty dog！〃 Light footsteps were heard on the
stairs； from the distance a thin； high voice called：
〃Greta！ You mustn't go up there！〃
A little girl of twelve； with long fair hair under a wide…brimmed
hat； slipped in。
Her blue eyes opened wide； her face flushed up。 That face was not
regular； its cheek…bones were rather prominent； the nose was
flattish； there was about it an air； innocent； reflecting； quizzical；
shy。
〃Oh！〃 she said。
Harz smiled： 〃Good…morning！ This your dog？〃
She did not answer； but looked at him with soft bewilderment； then
running to the dog seized him by the collar。
〃Scr…ruff！ Thou naughty dog…the baddest dog！〃 The ends of her hair
fell about him； she looked up at Harz； who said：
〃Not at all！ Let me give him some bread。〃
〃Oh no！ You must notI will beat himand tell him he is bad； then
he shall not do such things again。 Now he is sulky； he looks so
always when he is sulky。 Is this your home？〃
〃For the present； I am a visitor。〃
〃But I think you are of this country； because you speak like it。〃
〃Certainly； I am a Tyroler。〃
〃I have to talk English this morning； but I do not like it very much…
…because； also I am half Austrian； and I like it best； but my sister；
Christian； is all English。 Here is Miss Naylor； she shall be very
angry with me。〃
And pointing to the entrance with a rosy…tipped forefinger； she again
looked ruefully at Harz。
There came into the room with a walk like the hopping of a bird an
elderly； small lady； in a grey serge dress； with narrow bands of
claret…coloured velveteen； a large gold cross dangled from a steel
chain on her chest； she nervously twisted her hands； clad in black
kid gloves； rather white about the seams。
Her hair was prematurely grey； her quick eyes brown； her mouth
twisted at one corner； she held her face； kind…looking； but long and
narrow； rather to one side； and wore on it a look of apology。 Her
quick sentences sounded as if she kept them on strings； and wanted to
draw them back as soon as she had let them forth。
〃Greta； how can； you do such things？ I don't know what your father
would say！ I am sure I don't know how toso extraordinary〃
〃Please！〃 said Harz。
〃You must come at onceso very sorryso awkward！〃 They were
standing in a ring： Harz with his eyebrows working up and down； the
little lady fidgeting her parasol； Greta； flushed and pouting； her
eyes all dewy； twisting an end of fair hair round her finger。
〃Oh； look！〃 The coffee had boiled over。 Little brown streams
trickled spluttering from the pan； the dog； with ears laid back and
tail tucked in； went scurrying round the room。 A feeling of
fellowship fell on them at once。
〃Along the wall is our favourite walk； and Scruffso awkward； so
unfortunatewe did not think any one lived herethe shutters are
cracked； the paint is peeling off so dreadfully。 Have you been long
in Botzen？ Two months？ Fancy！ You are not English？ You are
Tyrolese？ But you speak English so wellthere for seven years？
Really？ So fortunate！It is Greta's day for English。〃
Miss Naylor's eyes darted bewildered glances at the roof where the
crossing of the beams made such deep shadows； at the litter of
brushes； tools； knives； and colours on a table made out of packing…
cases； at the big window； innocent of glass； and flush with the
floor； whence dangled a bit of rusty chainrelic of the time when
the place had been a store…loft； her eyes were hastily averted from
an unfnished figure of the nude。
Greta； with feet crossed； sat on a coloured blanket； dabbling her
fnger in a little pool