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associate my first realisations of the wonder and beauty of twilight

and night, the effect of dark walls reflecting lamplight, and the

mystery of blue haze-veiled hillsides of houses, the glare of shops

by night, the glowing steam and streaming sparks of railway trains

and railway signals lit up in the darkness. My first rambles in the

evening occurred at Penge-I was becoming a big and independent-

spirited boy-and I began my experience of smoking during these

twilight prowls with the threepenny packets of American cigarettes

then just appearing in the world.

My life centred upon the City Merchants School. Usually I caught

the eight-eighteen for Victoria, I had a midday meal and tea; four

nights a week I stayed for preparation, and often I was not back

home again until within an hour of my bedtime. I spent my half

holidays at school in order to play cricket and football. This, and

a pretty voracious appetite for miscellaneous reading which was

fostered by the Penge Middleton Library, did not leave me much

leisure for local topography. On Sundays also I sang in the choir

at St. Martin 's Church, and my mother did not like me to walk out

alone on the Sabbath afternoon, she herself slumbered, so that I

wrote or read at home. I must confess I was at home as little as I

could contrive.

Home, after my father's death, had become a very quiet and

uneventful place indeed. My mother had either an unimaginative

temperament or her mind was greatly occupied with private religious

solicitudes, and I remember her talking to me but little, and that

usually upon topics I was anxious to evade. I had developed my own

view about low-Church theology long before my father's death, and my

meditation upon that event had finished my secret estrangement from

my mother's faith. My reason would not permit even a remote chance

of his being in hell, he was so manifestly not evil, and this

religion would not permit him a remote chance of being out yet.

When I was a little boy my mother had taught me to read and write

and pray and had done many things for me, indeed she persisted in

washing me and even in making my clothes until I rebelled against

these things as indignities. But our minds parted very soon. She

never began to understand the mental processes of my play, she never

interested herself in my school life and work, she could not

understand things I said; and she came, I think, quite insensibly to

regard me with something of the same hopeless perplexity she had

felt towards my father.

Him she must have wedded under considerable delusions. I do not

think he deceived her, indeed, nor do I suspect him of mercenariness

in their union; but no doubt he played up to her requirements in the

half ingenuous way that was and still is the quality of most wooing,

and presented himself as a very brisk and orthodox young man. I

wonder why nearly all lovemaking has to be fraudulent. Afterwards

he must have disappointed her cruelly by letting one aspect after

another of his careless, sceptical, experimental temperament appear.

Her mind was fixed and definite, she embodied all that confidence in

church and decorum and the assurances of the pulpit which was

characteristic of the large mass of the English people-for after

all, the rather low-Church section WAS the largest single mass-in

early Victorian times. She had dreams, I suspect, of going to

church with him side by side; she in a little poke bonnet and a

large flounced crinoline, all mauve and magenta and starched under a

little lace-trimmed parasol, and he in a tall silk hat and peg-top

trousers and a roll-collar coat, and looking rather like the Prince

Consort,-white angels almost visibly raining benedictions on their

amiable progress. Perhaps she dreamt gently of much-belaced babies

and an interestingly pious (but not too dissenting or fanatical)

little girl or boy or so, also angel-haunted. And I think, too, she

must have seenherself ruling a seemly "home of taste," with a

vivarium in the conservatory that opened out of the drawing-room, or

again, making preserves in the kitchen. My father's science-

teaching, his diagrams of disembowelled humanity, his pictures of

prehistoric beasts that contradicted the Flood, his disposition

towards soft shirts and loose tweed suits, his inability to use a

clothes brush, his spasmodic reading fits and his bulldog pipes,

must have jarred cruelly with her rather unintelligent

anticipations. His wild moments of violent temper when he would

swear and smash things, absurd almost lovable storms that passed

like summer thunder, must have been starkly dreadful to her. She

was constitutionally inadaptable, and certainly made no attempt to

understand or tolerate these outbreaks. She tried them by her

standards, and by her standards they were wrong. Her standards hid

him from her. The blazing things he said rankled in her mind

unforgettably.

As I remember them together they chafed constantly. Her attitude to

nearly all his moods and all his enterprises was a sceptical

disapproval. She treated him as something that belonged to me and

not to her. "YOUR father," she used to call him, as though I had

got him for her.

She had married late and she had, I think, become mentally self-

subsisting before her marriage. Even in those Herne Hill days I

used to wonder what was going on in her mind, and I find that old

speculative curiosity return as I write this. She took a

considerable interest in the housework that our generally

servantless condition put upon her-she used to have a charwoman in

two or three times a week-but she did not do it with any great

skill. She covered most of our furniture with flouncey ill-fitting

covers, and she cooked plainly and without very much judgment. The

Penge house, as it contained nearly all our Bromstead things, was

crowded with furniture, and is chiefly associated in my mind with

the smell of turpentine, a condiment she used very freely upon the

veneered mahogany pieces. My mother had an equal dread of "blacks"

by day and the "night air," so that our brightly clean windows were

rarely open.

She took a morning paper, and she would open it and glance at the

headlines, but she did not read it until the afternoon and then, I