Master Percy Edgar Smith James. Mrs. James (of Sutton) visits us again and introduces "Spiritual Seances."
May 26, Sunday. - We went to Sutton after dinner to have meat-tea with Mr. and Mrs. James. I had no appetite, having dined well at two, and the entire evening was spoiled by little Percy - their only son - who seems to me to be an utterly spoiled child.
Two or three times he came up to me and deliberately kicked my shins. He hurt me once so much that the tears came into my eyes.
I gently remonstrated with him, and Mrs. James said: "Please don't scold him; I do not believe in being too severe with young children. You spoil their character."
Little Percy set up a deafening yell here, and when Carrie tried to pacify him, he slapped her face.
I was so annoyed, I said: "That is not my idea of bringing up children, Mrs. James."
Mrs. James said. "People have different ideas of bringing up children - even your son Lupin is not the standard of perfection."
A Mr. Mezzini (an Italian, I fancy) here took Percy in his lap.
The child wriggled and kicked and broke away from Mr. Mezzini, saying: "I don't like you - you've got a dirty face."
A very nice gentleman, Mr. Birks Spooner, took the child by the wrist and said: "Come here, dear, and listen to this."
He detached his chronometer from the chain and made his watch strike six.
To our horror, the child snatched it from his hand and bounced it down upon the ground like one would a ball.
Mr. Birks Spooner was most amiable, and said he could easily get a new glass put in, and did not suppose the works were damaged.
To show you how people's opinions differ, Carrie said the child was bad-tempered, but it made up for that defect by its looks, for it was - in her mind - an unquestionably beautiful child.
I may be wrong, but I do not think I have seen a much uglier child myself. That is MY opinion.
May 30. - I don't know why it is, but I never anticipate with any pleasure the visits to our house of Mrs. James, of Sutton. She is coming again to stay for a few days. I said to Carrie this morning, as I was leaving: "I wish, dear Carrie, I could like Mrs.
James better than I do."
Carrie said: "So do I, dear; but as for years I have had to put up with Mr. Gowing, who is vulgar, and Mr. Cummings, who is kind but most uninteresting, I am sure, dear, you won't mind the occasional visits of Mrs. James, who has more intellect in her little finger than both your friends have in their entire bodies."
I was so entirely taken back by this onslaught on my two dear old friends, I could say nothing, and as I heard the 'bus coming, I left with a hurried kiss - a little too hurried, perhaps, for my upper lip came in contact with Carrie's teeth and slightly cut it.
It was quite painful for an hour afterwards. When I came home in the evening I found Carrie buried in a book on Spiritualism, called THERE IS NO BIRTH, by Florence Singleyet. I need scarcely say the book was sent her to read by Mrs. James, of Sutton. As she had not a word to say outside her book, I spent the rest of the evening altering the stair-carpets, which are beginning to show signs of wear at the edges.
Mrs. James arrived and, as usual, in the evening took the entire management of everything. Finding that she and Carrie were making some preparations for table-turning, I thought it time really to put my foot down. I have always had the greatest contempt for such nonsense, and put an end to it years ago when Carrie, at our old house, used to have seances every night with poor Mrs. Fussters (who is now dead). If I could see any use in it, I would not care.
As I stopped it in the days gone by, I determined to do so now.
I said: "I am very sorry Mrs. James, but I totally disapprove of it, apart from the fact that I receive my old friends on this evening."
Mrs. James said: "Do you mean to say you haven't read THERE IS NO BIRTH?" I said: "No, and I have no intention of doing so." Mrs.
James seemed surprised and said: "All the world is going mad over the book." I responded rather cleverly: "Let it. There will be one sane man in it, at all events."
Mrs. James said she thought it was very unkind, and if people were all as prejudiced as I was, there would never have been the electric telegraph or the telephone.
I said that was quite a different thing.
Mrs. James said sharply: "In what way, pray - in what way?"
I said: "In many ways."
Mrs. James said: "Well, mention ONE way."
I replied quietly: "Pardon me, Mrs. James; I decline to discuss the matter. I am not interested in it."
Sarah at this moment opened the door and showed in Cummings, for which I was thankful, for I felt it would put a stop to this foolish table-turning. But I was entirely mistaken; for, on the subject being opened again, Cummings said he was most interested in Spiritualism, although he was bound to confess he did not believe much in it; still, he was willing to be convinced.
I firmly declined to take any part in it, with the result that my presence was ignored. I left the three sitting in the parlour at a small round table which they had taken out of the drawing-room. I walked into the hall with the ultimate intention of taking a little stroll. As I opened the door, who should come in but Gowing!
On hearing what was going on, he proposed that we should join the circle and he would go into a trance. He added that he KNEW a few things about old Cummings, and would INVENT a few about Mrs. James.
Knowing how dangerous Gowing is, I declined to let him take part in any such foolish performance. Sarah asked me if she could go out for half an hour, and I gave her permission, thinking it would be more comfortable to sit with Gowing in the kitchen than in the cold drawing-room. We talked a good deal about Lupin and Mr. and Mrs.
Murray Posh, with whom he is as usual spending the evening. Gowing said: "I say, it wouldn't be a bad thing for Lupin if old Posh kicked the bucket."
My heart gave a leap of horror, and I rebuked Gowing very sternly for joking on such a subject. I lay awake half the night thinking of it - the other hall was spent in nightmares on the same subject.
