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A FAR COUNTRY
By Winston Churchill
BOOK 3。
XVIII。
As the name of our city grew to be more and more a byword for sudden and
fabulous wealth； not only were the Huns and the Slavs； the Czechs and the
Greeks drawn to us； but it became the fashion for distinguished
Englishmen and Frenchmen and sometimes Germans and Italians to pay us a
visit when they made the grand tour of America。 They had been told that
they must not miss us； scarcely a week went by in our communityso it
was saidin which a full…fledged millionaire was not turned out。 Our
visitors did not always remain a week；since their rapid journeyings
from the Atlantic to the Pacific； from Canada to the Gulf rarely occupied
more than four；but in the books embodying their mature comments on the
manners； customs and crudities of American civilization no less than a
chapter was usually devoted to us； and most of the adjectives in their
various languages were exhausted in the attempt to prove how symptomatic
we were of the ambitions and ideals of the Republic。 The fact that many
of these gentlemenliterary and otherwisereturned to their own shores
better fed and with larger balances in the banks than when they departed
is neither here nor there。 Egyptians are proverbially created to be
spoiled。
The wiser and more fortunate of these travellers and students of life
brought letters to Mr。 and Mrs。 Hambleton Durrett。 That household was
symptomaticif they likedof the new order of things； and it was rare
indeed when both members of it were at home to entertain them。 If Mr。
Durrett were in the city； and they did not happen to be Britons with
sporting proclivities； they simply were not entertained： when Mrs。
Durrett received them dinners were given in their honour on the Durrett
gold plate； and they spent cosey and delightful hours conversing with her
in the little salon overlooking the garden； to return to their hotels and
jot down paragraphs on the superiority of the American women over the
men。 These particular foreigners did not lay eyes on Mr。 Durrett； who
was in Florida or in the East playing polo or engaged in some other
pursuit。 One result of the lavishness and luxury that amazed them they
wrotehad been to raise the standard of culture of the women； who were
our leisure class。 But the travellers did not remain long enough to
arrive at any conclusions of value on the effect of luxury and lavishness
on the sacred institution of marriage。
If Mr。 Nathaniel Durrett could have returned to his native city after
fifteen years or so in the grave； not the least of the phenomena to
startle him would have been that which was taking place in his own house。
For he would have beheld serenely established in that former abode of
Calvinism one of the most reprehensible of exotic abominations； a
'mariage de convenance；' nor could he have failed to observe； moreover；
the complacency with which the descendants of his friends； the pew
holders in Dr。 Pound's church； regarded the matter： and not only these；
but the city at large。 The stronghold of Scotch Presbyterianism had
become a London or a Paris； a Gomorrah！
Mrs。 Hambleton Durrett went her way； and Mr。 Durrett his。 The less said
about Mr。 Durrett's wayeven in this suddenly advanced agethe better。
As for Nancy； she seemed to the distant eye to be walking through life in
a stately and triumphant manner。 I read in the newspapers of her doings；
her comings and goings； sometimes she was away for months together； often
abroad； and when she was at home I saw her； but infrequently； under
conditions more or less formal。 Not that she was formal；or I： our
intercourse seemed eloquent of an intimacy in a tantalizing state of
suspense。 Would that intimacy ever be renewed？ Thus
was a question on which I sometimes speculated。 The situation that had
suspended or put an end to it； as the case might be； was never referred
to by either of us。
One afternoon in the late winter of the year following that in which we
had given a dinner to the Scherers （where the Durretts had rather
marvellously appeared together） I left my office about three o'clocka
most unusual occurrence。 I was restless； unable to fix my mind on my
work； filled with unsatisfied yearnings the object of which I sought to
keep vague； and yet I directed my steps westward along Boyne Street until
I came to the Art Museum； where a loan exhibition was being held。 I
entered； bought a catalogue； and presently found myself standing before
number 103； designated as a portrait of Mrs。 Hambleton Durrett；painted
in Paris the autumn before by a Polish artist then much in vogue；
Stanislaus Czesky。 Nancywas it Nancy？was standing facing me； tall；
superb in the maturity of her beauty； with one hand resting on an antique
table； a smile upon her lips； a gentle mockery in her eyes as though
laughing at the world she adorned。 With the smile and the mockery
somehow significant； too； of an achieved inaccessibilitywent the sheen
of her clinging gown and the glint of the heavy pearls drooping from her
high throat to her waist。 These caught the eye； but failed at length to
hold it； for even as I looked the smile faded； the mockery turned to
wistfulness。 So I thought； and looked againto see the wistfulness： the
smile had gone； the pearls seemed heavier。 Was it a trick of the artist？
had he seen what I saw； or thought I saw？ or was it that imagination
which by now I might have learned to suspect and distrust。 Wild longings
took possession of me； for the portrait had seemed to emphasize at once
how distant now she was from me； and yet how near！ I wanted to put that
nearness to the test。 Had she really changed？ did anyone really change？
and had I not been a fool to accept the presentment she had given me？ I
remembered those moments when our glances had met as across barriers in
flashes of understanding。 After all； the barriers were mere relics of
the superstition of the past。 What if I went to her now？ I felt that
I needed her as I never had needed anyone in all my life。。。。 I was
aroused by the sound of lowered voices beside me。
〃That's Mrs。 Hambleton Durrett；〃 I heard a woman say。 〃Isn't she
beautiful？〃
The note of envy struck me sharplyhorribly。 Without waiting to listen
to the comment of her companion I hurried out of the building into the
cold； white sunlight that threw into bold relief the mediocre houses of
the street。 Here was everyday life； but the portrait had suggested that
which might have beenmight be yet。 What did I mean by this？ I didn't
know； I didn't care to define it；a renewal of her friendship； of our
intimacy。 My being cried out for it； and in the world in which I lived
we took what we wantedwhy not this？ And yet for an instant I stood on
the sidewalk to discover that in new situations I was still subject to
unaccountable qualms of that thing I had been taught to call
〃conscience〃； whether it were conscience or not must be left to the
psychologists。 I was marriedterrible word！ the shadow of that
Institution fell athwart me as the sun went under a cloud； but the sun
came out again as I found myself walking toward the Durrett house
reflecting