CHAPTER VII.

THE PRICE OF POWER.

After the great and epoch-making meeting in Queen's Hall, the disturbed state of public feeling was accentuated. It was generally felt that the sex-conflict which the revolt of woman had brought about now was shaping towards some new and startling climax. A crisis was at hand. Moreover, at the same time, the appearance and rapid development of a serious and unfamiliar epidemic created widespread alarm.

At first people had laughed at the "new disease," but the laughter was shortlived--like great numbers of those whom the epidemic attacked. Harley Street described it professionally as a recrudescence of _plica polonica_; and just as at an earlier period people had contracted influenza into "the flue," they now went about asking each other how about the "plic." It was a malady which at one time had prevailed extensively in Poland, and but little doubt could be felt that it had now been introduced into England by the Polish Jews, whose alien colony in Whitechapel and other parts of the East End had attained enormous proportions. The peculiar feature of the plic. was that it attacked the hair of the head, matting it together and twisting it in hard knots, to touch which caused the most exquisite pain; this symptom was often accompanied with manifestations of acute nervous disorder. The patient speedily became feverish, and in most instances showed signs of derangement in the functions of the brain. As the malady developed sleep was banished, or, when obtained, would be disturbed by dreadful dreams. Profound depression weighed upon the spirits, and the bare sight of food and drink excited strong repulsion. Gouty pains in arms and legs caused acute agony to some of the sufferers, and in many cases there were fits of giddiness and an affection of the optic nerve that produced temporary blindness.

The disease more often than not proved fatal. Physicians were at a loss for radical cures, and a course of thermal baths was found to be the most efficacious palliative that the faculty could recommend. Under the advice of Harley Street, great numbers of patients, in the early stages of the disease, flocked to Bath for the water-cure. Not since the days of the Georges had the famous city of the west harboured so many afflicted visitors. Every hotel was crowded from basement to attic. The lodging-house keepers exacted monstrous prices for the most indifferent accommodation. Local doctors drove a roaring trade, and every other woman in the street seemed to wear the familiar garb of the hospital nurse.

Among the distinguished persons who had been advised to have recourse to the healing properties of the famous baths was the foremost man, officially speaking, in the country. Nicholas Jardine was declared to be suffering from a severe attack of the prevailing epidemic, and the papers announced that the President would at the earliest possible moment leave London for Bath.

This intelligence caused far more anxiety throughout the country than might have been anticipated. It was not that the President was particularly beloved, but that among a large section of the community the Vice-President was distinctly unpopular. Her ambitions and the determination of her character were well known. Hence the prevailing apprehensions. What might not Lady Cat accomplish in the temporary absence of the President? And, worse still, what might not she dare and do, as the champion and inciter of woman, if the head of the Government should die?

The instrument of Government provided that supreme executive authority should be vested in one person--the President, or his deputy for the time being, in conjunction with the Commons in Parliament assembled. The functions of the Lords had long since been abrogated. The President, or his deputy, in the circumstances stated, with the assistance of the members of the Committee or Council of State, had the fullest powers as the executive, and, in effect, presided over the destinies of the nation.

From the President the judiciaries and magistrates derived their honours and emoluments. In him was vested civil command of the national forces both by sea and land. With the sanction of the Council, he could maintain peace or declare war. These powers were to some extent checked by the enactment that no law of the realm could be repealed, suspended, or amended without the consent of Parliament; but in Parliament the Vice-President had powerful support.

In the event of the death of the President, the other members of the Council could immediately nominate his successor. It was well known that the "Cat" had striven to ally herself in marriage with Nicholas Jardine, with the object, as most people believed, of indirectly grasping the reins of Government. It was known also that, foiled in that design, she treasured feelings of animosity against the President and his daughter. What, then, would be likely to limit her revenge or curb her ambition if an opportunity like the present could be made to serve her purpose?

It was widely felt that a crisis impended; that events of dark and threatening character were shaping for some great struggle or convulsion, the issue of which no one could foresee. The men of England, though in the course of years they had yielded inch by inch before the persistent aggression of the other sex, were not wholly forgetful of their past, nor blind to the possibilities of the future. The more virile among them remained rebels against woman's dominion, struggling, like strong but despairing swimmers, against the rushing tide that was sweeping them away. But such men were in a notable minority. Vast numbers seemed to have lapsed without resistance, if not without reluctance, into the position of underlings. Relieved of various responsibilities, they acquiesced in the position which the other sex had gradually assumed. They had grown lazy and half-hearted. With a shrug of the shoulders they accepted the widely-held dictum that their own sex was decadent. In point of numbers that was beyond denial. The entire birth rate of the country had fallen, year after year, but more notable than that was the emphasis given to the dominant note of the age by a steady diminution in the percentage of new-born males.

The more vital question arose, what view would the women themselves take of any new departure on the part of their leading representative in the Councils of the State? But such a question could not readily be answered. It might be hazarded that most of those who had displaced the male competitor or who were already in the way of promotion, would be for holding the ground and making any further bid for supremacy that occasion should suggest. But still there were known to be great numbers, patient and, so far, inarticulate women, who viewed the existing state of things with deep regret, and anticipated the future with positive alarm. If the men and the women were in opposite camps, "the sex" undoubtedly was divided in sentiment; for the change of the old order of things had brought many developments that told against the grace and charm of woman's life.

She had gained something; but she had lost more. The protective character which in former times man had felt bound in honour to assume for the benefit of the weaker vessel had been largely discarded. Chivalrous feelings were blunted by the competition in which woman had engaged with man. If the grey mare was bent on being the better horse, she must accept the conditions of the competition. However reasonable and welcome this might seem to the mature or hardened woman, it was far from agreeable to the young and charming girl. For still there were charming girls in England, girls who wanted to be wooed and won; girls whose hearts fluttered at the sound of a certain footstep; girls who did not want to rule their lovers, but to lean on them; girls to whom romance was the spice of life. Such girls as these, and it was whispered that they grew in numbers, shrank from the harsh conflict of the battle of life, in which it seemed to be expected that each and all would readily engage. They found in the open doors of professional business or political life inadequate compensation for the deference, tenderness, and delicate consideration which had been accorded by men to earlier generations of women. The Forward faction with their facts and figures, could count on great numbers of adherents. But certainly there were others, and perhaps the best and sweetest in the world of women, who looked with growing distaste and resentment upon the leaders who had brought the business and the pleasures of life to such a pass.

There was one English girl who, in the trouble that had come upon her by reason of her father's illness, discovered and pondered on these momentous questions. What would it profit a woman to force herself out of her ordained place in the plan of creation? And what should she give in exchange for that submissive tender love of wife for husband which the Sacred Book declared to be the law of God?

Zenobia Jardine, turning for the first time to the Bible, pondered over mysterious passages of the early Scriptures, which came to her with all the greater force because they had not been weakened by parrot-like familiarity. It was a revelation. Historical or allegorical--regarded either way--the story of the Garden of Eden and the first parents of the human race was imperishable in its power and significance. Therein lay the true lesson of life. The waves of the centuries had vainly surged around it. Like pygmies biting on the rock, the newest of new theologists, and the latest of scientific discoverers, had left the rock still standing, impregnable in its eternal strength. The voice that spake to the woman in the garden seemed to be speaking still: "What is this that thou hast done?" And the woman's answer was: "The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat." The enmity that had sprung from that far-off and typical wrong-doing was bearing bitter fruit. The bruising of the heel had been renewed through all the history of man and woman. The woman now was bruised in her affections.

In the Homeric story, Thetis took her son Achilles by the heel and dipped him in the river Styx to make the boy invulnerable. The water covered him save where the heel was covered by his mother's hand. And it was through the heel, that one vulnerable spot, that ultimately death assailed the hero. So, also, it seemed to the reflective girl, the heel typified her heart. All the armour of life that she had taken to herself under the auspices of her father would not avail against the enemy who assailed her in that one weak spot.

There were times when she felt that she had discredited her training and fallen below her appointed level. There were other times when she felt instinctively convinced that in woman's weakness lay her truest strength--her greatest victory in her ordained defeat.