Cecilia de Noël

Cecilia de Noël, by Lanoe
Falconer

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Title: Cecilia de Noël
Author: Lanoe Falconer
Release Date: March 4, 2005 [EBook #15258]
Language: English
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[Illustration: "So we went down our stairs."--Chap. II.]
Cecilia de Noël

BY
LANOE FALCONER
MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED ST. MARTINS ST., LONDON 1910
[Illustration: Title Page]
CECILIA DE NOËL
CHAPTER I
ATHERLEY'S GOSPEL
"There is no revelation but that of science," said Atherley.
It was after dinner in the drawing-room. From the cold of the early
spring night, closed shutters and drawn curtains carefully protected us;
shaded lamps and a wood fire diffused an exquisite twilight; we
breathed a mild and even balmy atmosphere scented with hothouse
flowers.
"And this revelation completely satisfies all reasonable desires," he
continued, surveying his small audience from the hearthrug where he
stood; "mind, I say all reasonable desires. If you have a healthy appetite
for bread, you will get it and plenty of it, but if you have a sickly
craving for manna, why then you will come badly off, that is all. This is
the gospel of fact, not of fancy: of things as they actually are, you know,
instead of as A dreamt they were, or B decided they ought to be, or C
would like to have them. So this gospel is apt to look a little dull beside
the highly coloured romances the churches have accustomed us to--as a
modern plate-glass window might, compared with a stained-glass oriel
in a mediæval cathedral. There is no doubt which is the prettier of the
two. The question is, do you want pretty colour or do you want clear
daylight?" He paused, but neither of his listeners spoke. Lady Atherley
was counting the stitches of her knitting; I was too tired; so he resumed:
"For my part, I prefer the daylight and the glass, without any daubing.
What does science discover in the universe? Precision, accuracy,

reliability--any amount of it; but as to pity, mercy, love! The fact is,
that famous simile of the angel playing at chess was a mistake. Very
smart, I grant you, but altogether misleading. Why! the orthodox quote
it as much as the others--always a bad sign. It tickles these
anthropomorphic fancies, which are at the bottom of all their creeds.
Imagine yourself playing at chess, not with an angel, but with an
automaton, an admirably constructed automaton whose mechanism can
outwit your brains any day: calm and strong, if you like, but no more
playing for love than the clock behind me is ticking for love; there you
have a much clearer notion of existence. A much clearer notion, and a
much more satisfactory notion too, I say. Fair play and no favour! What
more can you ask, if you are fit to live?"
His kindling glance sought the farther end of the long drawing-room;
had it fallen upon me instead, perhaps that last challenge might have
been less assured; and yet how bravely it became the speaker, whose
wide-browed head a no less admirable frame supported. Even the stiff
evening uniform of his class could not conceal the grace of form which
health and activity had moulded, working through highly favoured
generations. There was latent force implied in every line of it, and, in
the steady poise of look and mien, that perfect nervous balance which is
the crown of strength.
"And with our creed, of course, we shift our moral code as well. The
ten commandments, or at least the second table, we retain for obvious
reasons, but the theological virtues must be got rid of as quickly as
possible. Charity, for instance, is a mischievous quality--it is too
indulgent to weakness, which is not to be indulged or encouraged, but
stamped out. Hope is another pernicious quality leading to all kinds of
preposterous expectations which never are, or can be, fulfilled; and as
to faith, it is simply a vice. So far from taking anything on trust, you
must refuse to accept any statement whatsoever till it is proved so
plainly you can't help believing it whether you like it or not; just as a
theorem in--"
"George," said Lady Atherley, "what is that noise?"
The question, timed as Lady Atherley's remarks so often were, came

with something of a shock. Her husband, thus checked in full flight,
seemed