The Lee Shore

The Lee Shore, by Rose Macaulay

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Title: The Lee Shore
Author: Rose Macaulay

Release Date: August 28, 2005 [eBook #16612]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE LEE SHORE
by
R. MACAULAY
1912

TO P.R.

That division, the division of those who have and those who have not, runs so deep as almost to run to the bottom.

CONTENTS
* CHAPTER I A Hereditary Bequest
* CHAPTER II The Choice of a Career
* CHAPTER III The Hopes
* CHAPTER IV The Complete Shopper
* CHAPTER V The Splendid Morning
* CHAPTER VI Hilary, Peggy, and the Boarders
* CHAPTER VII Diana, Act?on, and Lord Evelyn
* CHAPTER VIII Peter Understands
* CHAPTER IX The Fat in the Fire
* CHAPTER X The Loss of a Profession
* CHAPTER XI The Loss of an Idea
* CHAPTER XII The Loss of a Goblet and Other Things
* CHAPTER XIII The Loss of the Single State
* CHAPTER XIV Peter, Rhoda, and Lucy
* CHAPTER XV The Loss of a Wife
* CHAPTER XVI A Long Way
* CHAPTER XVII Mischances in the Rain
* CHAPTER XVIII The Breaking-Point
* CHAPTER XIX The New Life
* CHAPTER XX The Last Loss
* CHAPTER XXI On the Shore

THE LEE SHORE
CHAPTER I
A HEREDITARY BEQUEST
During the first week of Peter Margerison's first term at school, Urquhart suddenly stepped, a radiant figure on the heroic scale, out of the kaleidoscopic maze of bemusing lights and colours that was Peter's vision of his new life.
Peter, seeing Urquhart in authority on the football field, asked, "Who is it?" and was told, "Urquhart, of course," with the implication "Who else could it be?"
"Oh," Peter said, and blushed. Then he was told, "Standing right in Urquhart's way like that! Urquhart doesn't want to be stared at by all the silly little kids in the lower-fourth." But Urquhart was, as a matter of fact, probably used to it.
So that was Urquhart. Peter Margerison hugged secretly his two pieces of knowledge; so secret they were, and so enormous, that he swelled visibly with them; there seemed some danger that they might even burst him. That great man was Urquhart. Urquhart was that great man. Put so, the two pieces of knowledge may seem to have a certain similarity; there was in effect a delicate discrimination between them. If not wholly distinct one from the other, they were anyhow two separate aspects of the same startling and rather magnificent fact.
Then there was another aspect: did Urquhart know that he, Margerison, was in fact Margerison? He showed no sign of such knowledge; but then it was naturally not part of his business to concern himself with silly little kids in the lower-fourth. Peter never expected it.
But a few days after that, Peter came into the lavatories and found Urquhart there, and Urquhart looked round and said, "I say, you--Margerison. Just cut down to the field and bring my cap. You'll find it by the far goal, Smithson's ground. You can bring it to the lavatories and hang it on my peg. Cut along quick, or you'll be late."
Peter cut along quick, and found the velvet tasselled thing and brought it and hung it up with the care due to a thing so precious as a fifteen cap. The school bell had clanged while he was down on the field, and he was late and had lines. That didn't matter. The thing that had emerged was, Urquhart knew he was Margerison.
After that, Urquhart did not have occasion to honour Margerison with his notice for some weeks. It was, of course, a disaster of Peter's that brought them into personal relations. Throughout his life, Peter's relations were apt to be based on some misfortune or other; he always had such bad luck. Vainly on Litany Sundays he put up his petition to be delivered "from lightning and tempest, from plague, pestilence, and famine, from battle and murder, and from sudden death." Disasters seemed to crowd the roads on which he walked; so frequent were they and so tragic that life could scarcely be lived in sober earnest; it was, for Peter the comedian, a tragi-comic farce. Circumstances provided the tragedy, and temperament the farce.
Anyhow, one day Peter tumbled on to the point of his right shoulder and lay on his face, his arm crooked curiously at his side, remarking that he didn't think he was hurt, only his arm felt funny and he didn't think he would move it just yet. People pressed about him; suggested carrying him off the field; asked if