Sparrows | Page 4

being new, ostentatious folk; their prosperity did not extend further
back than the father of Montague, the present head of the family.
Montague Devitt did little beyond attending board meetings of the
varied industries which his father's energy had called into being. He
was a bluff, well-set-up man, who had married twice; both of his wives
had brought him money. Each time Montague chose a mate, he had

made some effort to follow the leanings of his heart; but money not
lying in the same direction as love, an overmastering instinct of his
blood had prevailed against his sentimental inclinations; in each case it
had insisted on his marrying, in one instance an interest in iron works,
in another, a third share of a Portland cement business.
His first wife had borne him two sons and a daughter; his second was
childless.
Montague was a member of two or three Bohemian clubs in London, to
which, as time went on, he became increasingly attached. At these, he
passed as a good fellow, chiefly from a propensity to stand drinks to
any and everyone upon any pretence; he was also renowned amongst
his boon companions for his rendering of "The Village Blacksmith" in
dumb show, a performance greeted by his thirsty audience with
thunders of applause.
Harold, his first born, will be considered later.
Lowther, his second son, can be dismissed in a few words. He was a
good-looking specimen of the British bounder. His ideas of life were
obtained from the "Winning Post," and the morality (or want of it)
suggested by musical comedy productions at the Gaiety Theatre. He
thought coarsely of women. While spending money freely in the
society of ladies he met at the Empire promenade, or in the Cafe d'
l'Europe, he practised mean economics in private.
Victoria, Montague's daughter, was a bit of a puzzle to friends and
relations alike, all of whom commenced by liking her, a sentiment
which, sooner or later, gave place to a feeling of dissatisfaction. She
was a disappointment to her father, although he would never admit it to
himself; indeed, if he had tried to explain this displeasure, he would
have been hard put to it to give a straightforward cause for a distressing
effect. On first acquaintance, it would seem as if she were as desirable a
daughter as heart of father could want. She was tall, good-looking, well
educated; she had abundance of tact, accomplishments, and refinement;
she had never given her parents a moment of anxiety. What, then, was
wrong with her from her father's point of view? He was well into

middle age; increasing years made him yearn for the love of which his
life had been starved; this craving would have been appeased by love
for his daughter, but the truth was that he was repelled by the girl's
perfection. She had never been known to lose her temper; not once had
she shown the least preference for any of the eligible young men of her
acquaintance; although always becomingly dressed, she was never
guilty of any feminine foibles, which would have endeared her to her
father. To him, such correctness savoured of inhumanity; much of the
same feeling affected the girl's other relatives and friends, to the
ultimate detriment of their esteem.
Hilda, Montague's second wife, was the type of woman that successful
industrialism turns out by the gross. Sincere, well-meaning, narrow,
homely, expensively but indifferently educated, her opinion on any
given subject could be predicted; her childlessness accentuated her
want of mental breadth. She read the novels of Mrs Humphry Ward;
she was vexed if she ever missed an Academy; if she wanted a change,
she frequented fashionable watering-places. She was much exercised
by the existence of the "social evil"; she belonged to and, for her,
subscribed heavily to a society professing to alleviate, if not to cure,
this distressing ailment of the body politic. She was the honorary
secretary of a vigilance committee, whose operations extended to the
neighbouring towns of Trowton and Devizeton. The good woman was
ignorant that the starvation wages which her husband's companies paid
were directly responsible for the existence of the local evil she deplored,
and which she did her best to eradicate.
Miss Spraggs, Hilda Devitt's elder sister, lived with the family at
Melkbridge House. She was a virgin with a taste for scribbling, which
commonly took the form of lengthy letters written to those she thought
worthy of her correspondence. She had diligently read every volume of
letters, which she could lay hands on, of persons whose performance
was at all renowned in this department of literature (foreign ones in
translations), and was by way of being an agreeable rattle, albeit of a
pinchbeck, provincial genus. Miss Spraggs was much courted by her
relations, who were