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Habit Busting
A 10-step plan that will change your life

Pete Cohen and Sten Cummins

with Jennai Cox
This book is dedicated to the lovely, gorgeous Vanessa Corley.
Pete Cohen (2001)

I would especially like to thank (in order of appearance):

Robert Anton Wilson for your inspirational curiosity and the book
Prometheus Rising.
Michelle Cornell for your advice and encouragement.
Michael Breen for your wise council and patient, yet hilarious tuition.
Laura Nolan and Mach, without you this book would never have hap-
pened.
Dr Richard Bandler the genius who created Neuro Linguistic
Programming, the thinking
that enables freedom.
Paul McKenna the most charming PR man the human brain ever had.
Shelly Loughney for your strong words softly spoken.
Pete Cohen, the wisest clown in toy town.
Special thanks to Jennai Cox, without whom this book would be very
different, and may
never have made it into print.
Thank you all. Sten Cummins (2001)
Contents
Foreword - Dr Hilary Jones vii
Introduction viii

What Are Habits? 1

Using Your Imagination 31
Why We Want to Change: Pleasure vs Pain 59
Motivation 69
Beliefs 80
The New You 96
Making Mistakes 103
Saying Goodbye to Old Habits 108
Getting Stronger 125
Taking Care of Yourself The Habit of a Lifetime 138

Conclusion 162
References 164
Resources 165
About the author 166
About the publisher 167
Front cover imaae
Copyright
Foreword
Pete Cohen's ability to help people transcend their unwanted
habits. fears and phobias is amazing. Last year I worked with Pete
on an innovative week-long series for GMTV called House of Fear.
The aim of the series was to help four people who all had debilitat-
ing fears and phobias. These people's physical. mental and emo-
tional responses were tested and proved beyond doubt that their
fears and phobias were socially handicapping them and stopping
them from living normal lives.
I had my doubts that these people could really change in such
a short period of time. Pete worked with them for three days and
when I saw them again on the fourth day. the results were
astounding. I watched as once again these people were exposed
to their deepest fears. However. this time their reactions had
changed from panic and terror to complete control. These people
were cured of their unwanted behaviour. and were experiencing a
new sense of confidence. control and a determined conviction to
enjoy their lives more.
I would recommend Pete Cohen and the processes in this
book to anyone who wishes to break or bust any unwanted
habits or behaviour. With his methods. so very much is pos-
sible. Freedom from anxiety or terror is within their grasp. here in
the pages of the book.
Dr Hilary Jones. M.B.B.S.
GP and media doctor
 Introduction
My name is Pete Cohen and I have been helping people bust
their habits for over 10 years.
I have always found human behaviour fascinating. and through
my explorations and experiences of working with thousands of
people I have become convinced that the majority of people can
overcome their limiting habits. Habits are quite simply things we
have learned. whether it be smoking. low self-esteem. nail-biting
or fear of flying. They are thoughts. behaviours and actions that
we have practised over time.
The Habit-busting techniques and strategies in this book will
help you to unlearn your bad habits and replace them with more
productive and enjoyable ways of living your life. You will learn
how to make simple but highly effective changes. and ultimately
you will gain more control and become freer and happier.

What You Will Need for This Book

Winning starts with In the course of reading this book we want you to become an
beginning. investigator rather than a critic. To do this all you will need are an
inquisitive and open mind. a notebook and a pen. Please give
yourself time to change: you have worked hard at creating these
habits and need the time you deserve to bring about change.
 In the work that we do. we start out by reminding each person
of four absolute truths:

1 Every human being has positive worth. That worth is

non-negotiable. Your worth is always there. and rt's always
going to be there. in spite of the behaviours and habits
you may have picked up during your life. and however
appropriate or inappropriate they may be. Nothing that
happens in life can change that.
2 Other people's reactions to what you do and say are just that
o t h e r people's reactions. Their reactions. comments and
attitudes are theirs. not yours. The only person who can
define you is you. You are not responsible for how other
people feel about you.
3 When you make a decision. you invariably make the best
decision you can at that time. with the options you believe
you have. There is a positive intention motivating all your
behaviour. However the behaviour might seem with the
benefit of hindsight. all behaviour is positive in intent.
4 Every person has within them all of the strengths and
resources necessary to change into the person they want
to be.

List of Habits This Book Can Help You Break

Smoking Drinking Drugs dependency
Overweight Nail-biting Eating disorders
Gambling Being stressed Inability to relax
Worrying too much Road rage Being pessimistic
Procrastinating Problems with Low self-confidence
Negative thinking people Feeling like a loser
Feeling guilty
 What Are Habits?

One of the most No one was born with low self-esteem, no one was born with
important results
you can bring into
an eating disorder and no one was born biting their nails,
the world is the stressed or with a tendency to procrastinate. All habits are
you that you really behaviours we have learned and practised so often that they
want to be.
have become second nature. And because they are part of
our second nature, and not our first, we are closer to our true
selves without them. We only feel that they are a part of us
We first make our because we have practised them for so long and are condi-
habits and then
tioned to have them. We often end up feeling that they are
our habits make
US. who we are. They are not.
Like many of the other essential skills we learn as we grow,
such as talking, eating and walking, habits are behaviours
learned by watching others and copying them because
these habits appear to make others look good and/ or feel
good. The motivation to learn is no different: we believe we
are smokingleating morelcompulsively cleaning/ procrastinat-
ing in our own best interests to make ourselves happy. So
we practise these behaviours, believing that they will not only
make us feel better about, but also think better of, ourselves,
HABIT BUSTING 2

and help to make a reality of the person we think we would

like to be.

A Positive Intention

Through our work with people who wish to break habits, we

have come to believe that behind all behaviour is a positive
intention. The brain only ever suggests a behaviour it thinks
is the best and most effective way of making us feel better,
and it has learned what makes us feel better or more com-
fortable from our behaviour in the past.
Because we are fast learners, habits develop and become
fixed very quickly. Take smoking, for example. We watch
people smoking and because it looks cool we think it is an
appropriate and useful way to behave. We are driven to do it,
even though it is hard and it hurts. How many people enjoy
their first cigarette? Yet they go through the pain of smoking
in order to be like other people. The association of smoking
with cool is learned and becomes hard-wired in our brains so
that smoking equals cool.
People do not have habits for the sake of it. Their brain
suggests to them what it thinks is best or what in the past
might have alleviated some discomfort or seemed attractive.
So whenever we feel discomfort, the brain kicks in to relieve
us by suggesting what by past repetition it has been taught
makes us feel better, even when we know it no longer works.

In the 1940s, behavioural psychologist B F Skinner built two

mazes, one for rats and another for a group of graduates. As an
STEP 1 3

incentive to find the centre he placed in the middle of the first

some chocolate and in the second some $10 bills. The rats and
graduates ran around the mazes until they found the reward.
When the chocolate was removed from the first maze, the rats no
longer showed any interest in finding the centre of the maze. The
graduates, however, would still run through the maze in search of
the middle, even when they knew there was no longer any money
there. The habit, once established, continued even when the
reason for doing it had been removed.

Pete writes: When I was young we had a pet dog, and of course I
got used to having it around. I would see it all the time and it
would come whenever I called out its name. Even though the dog
died almost a decade ago, whenever I visit my parents I still
expect him to be there, running to greet me. This demonstrates
conditioned behaviour; the pattern is similar to the way in which
many habits develop and are sustained. Even though we try to
break them, the brain keeps on suggesting them. Because we
have spent so much time doing them, the brain persists in urging
us that familiar behaviours are still best.

What about other behaviours? Well, when some people are

in a room full of strangers feeling uncomfortable, for exam-
ple, their brain may suggest smoking because that is what
has habitually made them feel more at ease. Although some
of those who are fat want to lose weight, their brain still sug-
gests food when they feel uncomfortable, because eating
has for many years always made them feel better. Others
may find biting their nails brings comfort when they feel
uncomfortable or find themselves in an awkward situation.
Because the behaviour has worked before to alleviate dis-
comfort in each of these hypothetical situations, the brain
HABIT BUSTING 4

has learned to see it as a solution and suggests it whenever

any feelings of discomfort arise. The behaviour becomes a
habit.
At the time we begin to cultivate a habit, we are merely
obeying the brain's tendency to make us behave in a way
that it believes is best for us. Think about this: if eating a
sweet takes your attention away from the pain of falling over
often enough when you are young, the brain can become
conditioned to suggest eating something sweet whenever
we experience discomfort.
We go on practising whichever habit it is we have learned
to the point where we are so good at it that we don't really
have to think about it any more. So skilled do we become at
putting things off, biting our nails or feeling stressed or guilty
that we fail to realize these behaviours no longer serve even
a perceived useful purpose. We get to the stage where we
are merely going through the motions of a behaviour out
of no more than habit. Some of us still enjoy our habits,
although not always the feeling we're left with afterwards.

During the Second World War, a number of Japanese garrisons

were sent t o occupy and guard little islands i n the Pacific. They
were instructed to shoot at invaders or enemies of Japan. With no
radio contact, they refused t o accept, even long after the fact, that
the war was over. Every day they continued t o don their uniforms,
clean their weapons and wait for 'enemy' ships to pass, and they
would shoot at them. A number of these garrisons were still being
found well into the 1970s - discovered because they were shoot-
ing at fishing boats. Instead of rushing in to instruct the soldiers to
stop fighting, a former sergeant in the Japanese army, wearing his
old uniform, was sent t o the island. He thanked the men and, after
STEP 1 5

speaking to them at length, informed them that the war was over.
Their conditioned behaviour could now b e replaced b y actions
and experiences more in keeping with the outside world.

This story illustrates well how humans behave. We act in

people's minds are ways that are no longer useful, continuing because we have
like parachutes- no way of knowing that we have a choice about how to
they only function
when they are behave. But we have.
open. Ask yourself this: do you think you have a choice when
deciding whether or not to accept your brain's instructions?
You have, and you are not limited to doing what you have
always done in the past.
The mast powerful
thing you can do With the will to change and an openness to change comes
to change the the realization that your choices are limitless.
world, is to change
your own beliefs
Like the approach used by the sergeant in the story, this
aboutthenatureof book is here to coach, support and hold your hand as you
Iife, people, reality, make positive changes. It is not going to get cross or impa-
to something more
positive... and tient with you, nor laugh at or bully you into making changes.
begin to act We understand what you need to do and the process you
accordingly.
need to go through. We are not going to tell you that you
have to change or should change. All we are saying is that
YOU can change. The choice is entirely up to you.

Time for Something New

What happens when you become so good at something,

whether it is a hobby or a way of carrying out your work, that
it ceases to hold your interest or drive your motivation?
Most people look for a new challenge.
HABIT BUSTING 6

Well, seeing as you are now so good at your habit, the

challenge could be to find something else which you can
become just as skilled at.
So many people do not even realize that this choice is
available to them.

Whose Fault?
It has been suggested that, unlike many of the other crea-
tures who inhabit the Earth, the human race is still evolving.
A cockroach has always been a cockroach, but over many
thousands of years humans have evolved into what we are
today. We are the newest species on the planet. Do you think
we are also the most intelligent? Think about what we are
particularly good at: evolving, surviving, inventing, destroy-
ing, criticizing, inflicting pain, hating, killing. Perhaps we are
not as intelligent as we like to think.
The ways in which we learn contribute to this apparent
lack of greater human intelligence. As babies and children
we absorb almost everything that happens around us, soak-
ing up everything like a sponge. We have no specific mecha-
nism with which to filter the incoming information; we just
watch and learn particular behaviours without knowing at the
time which are useful and which not.
Having habits is, in some ways, not entirely our own fault,
and because we are a species that is still evolving (in other
words, still imperfect), we should expect to have imperfec-
tions. Adopting, practising and having habits is part of our
imperfect human make-up. This is not to excuse habits, just
a way of explaining how humans have come to have them.
Before we go any further, let's just accept that habits are
STEP 1 7

stop looking for a something we bring upon ourselves, even though this is in
scapegoat in your
life but be willing
many cases unintentional. You might like to blame someone
to face the truth else or some particular set of circumstances something
within yourself and you say to yourself, something you picture or something you
right your own
wrongs. feel before you find yourself engaging in the habit but you

A client of ours who had successfully conquered his tendency t o

overeat continued to attend a support group for overeaters once a
week for fear he would lapse back into his old ways. At the begin-
ning of each session he had to stand up and say 'Hello, I am Colin,
and I am an overeater.' When we asked him one day about the last
time he had actually overeaten, Colin said that i t had been more
than five years, but that he often felt a strong urge t o do so. 'So,
you tell yourself every week that you are something that you have
not been for more than five years?' we asked. 'Do you realize the
amount of control you really have?' At the next meeting of his
group, he decided t o change his opening mantra to, 'Hello, I am
Colin, and I am in control.' The group leader told Colin in no
uncertain terms that he was not in control, and he was asked t o
leave the group. It was almost as though Colin was being told that
he could never have control over his eating and needed t o hang
on t o his problem instead of getting over it and getting on with
his life.

This is not a book that is going to show you how to stop

overeating or stop smoking or stop being late. There are
plenty of such books already on the shelves. While they may
HABIT BUSTING 8

I now can let go of help, they also reinforce the very behaviour you're trying to
worn-out
conditions and
overcome. If you buy a book about how to give up cigarettes,
worn-out ideas. for example, what do you think you will almost constantly be
thinking about all the time? This book is going to show you
how to crack the code of habits. once and for all.

Two monks on a long walk come t o a stretch of water. Nearby

stands a beautiful woman who asks for help getting across. The
younger of the two lifts her u p and carries her over the water, then
goes back and resumes his walk with the elder monk. After a few
minutes the young monk detects a sense of agitation and annoy-
ance in the older monk, and asks him what i s wrong. 'We are not
allowed t o look at or touch, let alone carry women,' t h e older
monk tells him. The young monk replies: 'I put her down on the
other side of the water; you are still carrying her.'

How people think and learn is the same code by which their
habit or habits are formed. Once you know how to crack the
code of your own thought processes, you will be able to use
what you find for the rest of your life in solving problems,
thinking creatively, and more. You will start to notice how you
approach issues in your life. Often, just this awareness can
help you experiment with a different approach. Instead of
allowing what has failed and what you no longer want to con-
sume your thoughts, start right now by thinking about what it
is you do want.
STEP 9

The individual who What Is the Difference between a Good

wants to reach the
top in business
and a Bad Habit?
must appreciate
the might of the We do not have to label habits good or bad. Just accept
force of habit
and must them for what they are. Most people are well aware what any
understand that particular habit does to them or for them. In many cases we
practices are what
can become good at habits, but can eventually feel bad
create habits. He
must be quick to about them. They make us feel either better or worse than
break those habits the person we want to be. Perhaps the difference between a
that can break him
and hasten to good and a bad habit for each person is whether they want
adopt those to go on doing it.
practices to
A 'bad' habit, such as feeling stressed, might not in itself
achieve the
success he necessarily be bad. The first time we feel stressed, it might
desires. not make us feel bad or be very bad for us at all. But then, if
the stressful feeling becomes ingrained as a habit, our brain
acts as though it is still the best way for us to behave, and we
go on doing it.
Take procrastinating, the art of putting things off. It is
something that many people with habits do in other words,
they postpone trying to break them. People who procrasti-
nate often spend so much time planning to put things off that
they fail to realize how much better they would feel if they just
did them and got them out of the way.
Your first challenge will be to stop deferring action and
beginning to take some.

When the basketball player Michael Jordan was asked to throw

the ball and miss the basket i n an American TV commercial,
he couldn't d o it. The film crew had to do about 20 takes before
they got the shot they wanted. Why? For so long had Jordan prac-
tised the good habit of getting t h e ball into the net, he found i t
HABIT BUSTING 10

impossible to miss deliberately. The behaviour of scoring success-

fully had become hard-wired in his brain.

Bad habits could be regarded as those we want to be rid of.

They are bad because, even though we might feel great
while engaging in them, afterwards we feel terrible. They are
bad because we no longer want to have them in our lives,
and it makes us sad to believe we always will. Part of this
belief stems from how we acquire the habits in the first place,
and how we have dealt with them over time.

How We Acquire Habits

So, a habit is a behaviour repeated so often we can practise
it without thinking. In other words, it is a type of self-
conditioning. People are conditioning themselves all the
time. Anyone who has worked in an office will be familiar with
the regular discussions revolving around what to eat, what
not to eat, what was or wasn't eaten for breakfast and how
much should or should not have been eaten or drunk the
night before. And so it goes on. People sit around in front of
computers every day and condition themselves and each
other into putting on weight.
We condition ourselves throughout our lives a n d adver-
tisers in particular take huge advantage of this: 'A Mars a
day helps you work, rest and play'; 'Have a break, have a
Kitkat.' 'Carlsberg, probably the best lager in the world.'
Beans means what? Heinz? Do they really?
We are also influenced to think in certain ways, to link cer-
tain behaviours with particular times and places (a coffee
and a cigarette; tea and biscuits), and habits develop
STEP 1 11

The way to change because we have conditioned ourselves into adopting and
the world is to
change your
practising these behaviours. They are comforting, and the
attitude towards it, behaviours come to feel like part of us. Because the idea of
Once, but change has failed to take hold in the past, we condition our-
all the time.
selves into believing that it never can.
When asked why they cannot give up their habits, most
Attitude is the
people we have worked with say it is because they have had
mind's paintbrush, them for so long. Well, does that mean they are doomed to
it can colour any
have them for ever? We develop habits through practice and
situation.
repetition, so imagining life without them can seem difficult.
What if we can change the way we think about our atti-
tudes towards our behaviour, as well as the behaviour itself?
Elite athletes, drug addicts and overeaters have more in
common in terms of how they think than at first appears.
Whereas the athlete will ask herself: 'What can I do today that
will make my performance better for tomorrow?', the drug
addict might ask: 'Where will I get my fix today?' and the
overeater might say: 'What sugary, fattening, comforting
foods can I eat today?' All of these people are highly
motivated, but their motivation takes them in widely varying
directions.
The athlete believes she can always get better, and makes
the necessary changes to her diet or training programme.
The overeater or drug addict hold no such self-belief, and
so behave as though they will either always be fat or always
be an addict. Each feels so hooked on his habit that even the
desire to change is not enough. But whether we are aware of
it or not, we can take ourselves in whatever direction we want
to go.
Other documents randomly have
different content
cooperation, was needed to render the attack effectual, and here
would arise his opportunity, the self-sacrifice which he contemplated
with positive pleasure, though, of course, with a certain awe, for
futurity was a murky vista enough beyond it.
Varbarriere's low estimate of young men led him at once to conclude
that this was an amorous escapade, a bit of romance about that
pretty wench, Mademoiselle Beatrix. Why not? The fool, fooling
according to his folly, should not arrest wisdom in her march.
Varbarriere was resolved to take all necessary steps in his nephew's
name, without troubling the young man with a word upon the
subject. He would have judgment and execution, and he scoffed at
the idea that his nephew, Guy, would take measures to have him—
his kinsman, guardian, and benefactor—punished for having acted
for his advantage without his consent.
 CHAPTER XI.
In Lady Mary's Boudoir.
The red sunset had faded into darkness as M. Varbarriere descended
from his carriage at the door-steps of Marlowe. The dressing-bell
had not yet rung. Everyone was quite well, the solemn butler
informed him graciously, as if he had kept them in health expressly
to oblige M. Varbarriere. That gentleman's dark countenance,
however, was not specially illuminated on the occasion. The
intelligence he really wanted referred to old Lady Alice, to whom the
inexcusable folly and perfidy of Guy had betrayed his name.
Upon this point he had grown indescribably uncomfortable as he
drew near to the house. Had the old woman been conjecturing and
tattling? Had she called in Sir Jekyl himself to counsel? How was he,
Varbarriere, to meet Sir Jekyl? He must learn from Lady Alice's lips
how the land lay.
"And Lady Alice," he murmured with a lowering countenance, "pretty
well, I hope? Down-stairs to-day, eh?"
The butler had not during his entire visit heard the "foreign chap"
talk so much English before.
"Lady Halice was well in 'ealth."
"In the drawing-room?"
"No, sir, in Lady Mary's boudoir."
"And Sir Jekyl?"
"In 'is hown room, sir."
"Show me to the boudoir, please; I have a word for Lady Alice."
A few moments more and he knocked at the door of that apartment,
and was invited to enter with a querulous drawl that recalled the
association of the wild cat with which in an irreverent moment he
had once connected that august old lady.
So Varbarriere entered and bowed and stood darkly in the door-
frame, reminding her again of the portrait of a fat and cruel
burgomaster. "Oh! it's you? come back again, Monsieur Varbarriere?
Oh!—I'm very glad to see you."
"Very grateful—very much flattered; and your ladyship, how are
you?"
"Pretty well—ailing—always ailing—delicate health and cruelly
tortured in mind. What else can I expect, sir, but sickness?"
"I hope your mind has not been troubled, Lady Alice, since I had the
honour of last seeing you."
"Now, do you really hope that? Is it possible you can hope that my
mind, in the state in which you left it has been one minute at ease
since I saw you? Beside, sir, I have heard something that for reasons
quite inexplicable you have chosen to conceal from me."
"May I ask what it is? I shall be happy to explain."
"Yes, the name of that young man—it is not Strangways, that was a
falsehood; his name, sir, is Guy Deverell!"
And saying this Lady Alice, after her wont, wept passionately.
"That is perfectly true, Lady Alice; but I don't see what value that
information can have, apart from the explanatory particulars I
promised to tell you; but not for a few days. If, however, you desire
it, I shall postpone the disclosure no longer. You will, I am sure, first
be so good as to tell me, though, whether anyone but you knows
that the foolish young man's name is Deverell?"
"No; no one, except Beatrix, not a creature. She was present, but
has been, at my request, perfectly silent," answered Lady Alice,
eagerly, and gaped darkly at Varbarriere, expecting his revelation.
M. Varbarriere thought, under the untoward circumstances, that a
disclosure so imperfect as had been made to Lady Alice was a good
deal more dangerous than one a little fuller. He therefore took that
lady's hand very reverentially, and looking with his full solemn eyes
in her face, said—
"It is not only true, madam, that his name is Guy Deverell, but
equally true that he is the lawful son, as well as the namesake, of
that Guy Deverell, your son, who perished by the hand of Sir Jekyl
Marlowe in a duel. Shot down foully, as that Mr. Strangways avers
who was his companion, and who was present when the fatal event
took place."
"Gracious Heaven, sir! My son married?"
"Yes, madam, married more than a year before his death. All the
proofs are extant, and at this moment in England."
"Married! my boy married, and never told his mother! Oh, Guy, Guy,
Guy is it credible?"
"It is not a question, madam, but an absolute certainty, as I will
show you whenever I get the papers to Wardlock."
"And to whom, sir, pray, was my son married?" demanded Lady
Alice, after a long pause.
"To my sister, madam."
Lady Alice gaped at him in astonishment.
"Was she a person at all his equal in life?—a person of—of any
education, I mean?" inquired Lady Alice, with a gasp, sublimely
unconscious of her impertinence.
"As good a lady as you are," replied Varbarriere, with a swarthy flush
upon his forehead.
"I should like to know she was a lady, at all events."
"She was a lady, madam, of pure blood, incapable of a mean
thought, incapable, too, of anything low-bred or impertinent."
His sarcasm sped through and through Lady Alice without producing
any effect, as a bullet passes through a ghost.
"It is a great surprise, sir, but that will be satisfactory. I suppose you
can show it?"
Varbarriere smiled sardonically and answered nothing.
"My son married to a Frenchwoman! Dear, dear, dear! Married! You
can feel for me, monsieur, knowing as I do nothing of the person or
family with whom he connected himself."
Lady Alice pressed her lean fingers over her heart, and swept the
wall opposite, with dismal eyes, sighing at intervals, and gasping
dolorously.
The old woman's egotism and impertinence did not vex him long or
much. But the pretence of being absolutely above irritation from the
feminine gender, in any extant sage, philosopher, or saint, is a
despicable affectation. Man and woman were created with inflexible
relations; each with the power in large measure or in infinitesimal
doses, according to opportunity, to infuse the cup of the other's life
with sweet or bitter—with nectar or with poison. Therefore great
men and wise men have winced and will wince under the insults of
small and even of old women.
"A year, you say, before my poor boy's death?"
"Yes, about that; a little more."
"Mademoiselle Varbarriere! H'm," mused Lady Alice.
"I did not say Varbarriere was the name," sneered he, with a deep-
toned drawl.
"Why, you said, sir, did not you, that the Frenchwoman he married
was your sister?"
"I said the lady who accepted him was my sister. I never said her
name was Varbarriere, or that she was a Frenchwoman."
"Is not your name Varbarriere, sir?" exclaimed Lady Alice, opening
her eyes very wide.
"Certainly, madam. A nom de guerre, as we say in France, a name
which I assumed with the purchase of an estate, about six years
ago, when I became what you call a naturalised French subject."
"And pray, sir, what is your name?"
"Varbarriere, madam. I did bear an English name, being of English
birth and family. May I presume to inquire particularly whether you
have divulged the name of my nephew to anyone?"
"No, to no one; neither has Beatrix, I am certain."
"You now know, madam, that the young man is your own grandson,
and therefore entitled to at least as much consideration from you as
from me; and I again venture to impress upon you this fact, that if
prematurely his name be disclosed, it may, and indeed must
embarrass my endeavours to reinstate him in his rights."
As he said this Varbarriere made a profound and solemn bow; and
before Lady Alice could resume her catechism, that dark gentleman
had left the room.
As he emerged from the door he glanced down the broad oak stair,
at the foot of which he heard voices. They were those of Sir Jekyl
and his daughter. The Baronet's eye detected the dark form on the
first platform above him.
"Ha! Monsieur Varbarriere—very welcome, monsieur—when did you
arrive?" cried his host in his accustomed French.
"Ten minutes ago."
"Quite well, I hope."
"Perfectly; many thanks—and Mademoiselle Beatrix?"
The large and sombre figure was descending the stairs all this time,
and an awful shadow, as he did so, seemed to overcast the face and
form of the young lady, to whom, with a dark smile, he extended his
hand.
"Quite well, Beatrix, too—all quite well—even Lady Alice in her usual
health," said Sir Jekyl.
"Better—I'm glad to hear," said Varbarriere.
"Better! Oh dear, no—that would never do. But her temper is just as
lively, and all her ailments flourishing. By-the-bye, your nephew had
to leave us suddenly."
"Yes—business," said Varbarriere, interrupting.
Beatrix, he was glad to observe, had gone away to the drawing-
room.
"He'll be back, I hope, immediately?" continued the Baronet. "He's a
fine young fellow. Egad, he's about as good-looking a young fellow
as I know. I should be devilish proud of him if I were you. When
does he come back to us?"
"Immediately, I hope; business, you know; but nothing very long.
We are both, I fear, a very tedious pair of guests; but you have been
so pressing, so hospitable——"
"Say rather, so selfish, monsieur," answered Sir Jekyl, laughing. "Our
whist and cigars have languished ever since you left."
M. Varbarriere laughed a double-bass accompaniment to the
Baronet's chuckle, and the dressing-bell ringing at that moment, Sir
Jekyl and he parted agreeably.
 CHAPTER XII.
The Guests Together.
Varbarriere marched slowly up, and entered his dressing-room with a
"glooming" countenance and a heavy heart. Everything looked as if
he had left it but half an hour ago. He poked the fire and sat down.
He felt like a surgeon with an operation before him. There was a
loathing of it, but he did not flinch.
Reader, you think you understand other men. Do you understand
yourself? Did you ever quite succeed in defining your own motives,
and arriving at the moral base of any action you ever did? Here was
Varbarriere sailing with wind and tide full in his favour, right into the
haven where he would be—yet to look in his face you would have
said "there is a sorrowful man," and had you been able to see
within, you would have said, "there is a man divided against
himself." Yes, as every man is. Several spirits, quite distinct, not
blending, but pleading and battling very earnestly on opposite sides,
all in possession of the "house"—but one dominant, always with a
disputed sway, but always carrying his point—always the prosperous
bully.
Yes, every man is a twist of many strands. Varbarriere was
compacted of several Varbarrieres—one of whom was the stronger
and the most infernal. His feebler associates commented upon him—
despised him—feared him—sought to restrain him but knew they
could not. He tyrannised, and was to the outer world the one and
indivisible Varbarriere.
Monsieur Varbarriere the tyrant was about to bring about a fracas
that night, against which the feebler and better Varbarrieres
protested. Varbarriere the tyrant held the knife over the throat of a
faithless woman—the better Varbarrieres murmured words of pity
and of faint remonstrance. Varbarriere the tyrant scrupled not to
play the part of spy and traitor for his ends; the nobler Varbarrieres
upbraided him sadly, and even despised him. But what were these
feeble angelic Varbarrieres? The ruler is the state, l'état c'est moi!
and Varbarriere the tyrant carried all before him.
As the dark and somewhat corpulent gentleman before the glass
adjusted his necktie and viewed his shirt-studs, he saw in his
countenance, along with the terrible resolution of that tyrant, the
sorrows and fears of the less potent spirits; and he felt, though he
would not accept, their upbraidings and their truth; so with a stern
and heavy heart he descended to the drawing-room.
He found the party pretty nearly assembled, and the usual buzz and
animation prevailing, and he smiled and swayed from group to
group, and from one chair to another.
Doocey was glad, monstrous glad to see him.
"I had no idea how hard it was to find a good player, until you left us
—our whist has been totally ruined. The first night we tried Linnett;
he thinks he plays, you know; well, I do assure you, you never
witnessed such a thing—such a caricature, by Jupiter—forgetting
your lead—revoking—everything, by Jove. You may guess what a
chance we had—my partner, I give you my honour, against old Sir
Paul Blunket, as dogged a player as there is in England, egad, and
Sir Jekyl there. We tried Drayton next night—the most conceited
fellow on earth, and no head—Sir Paul had him. I never saw an old
fellow so savage. Egad, they were calling one another names across
the table—you'd have died laughing; but we'll have some play now
you've come back, and I'm very glad of it."
Varbarriere, while he listened to all this, smiling his fat dark smile,
and shrugging and bowing slightly as the tale required these
evidences, was quietly making his observations on two or three of
the persons who most interested him. Beatrix, he thought, was
looking ill—certainly much paler, and though very pretty, rather sad
—that is, she was ever and anon falling into little abstractions, and
when spoken to, waking up with a sudden little smile.
Lady Jane Lennox—she did not seem to observe him—was seated
like a sultana on a low cushioned seat, with her rich silks circling
grandly round her. He looked at her a little stealthily and curiously,
as men eye a prisoner who is about to suffer execution. His
countenance during that brief glance was unobserved, but you might
have read there something sinister and cruel.
"I forget—had the Bishop come when you left us?" said Sir Jekyl,
laying his hand lightly from behind on the arm of Varbarriere. The
dark-featured man winced—Sir Jekyl's voice sounded unpleasantly in
his reverie.
"Ah! Oh! The Bishop? Yes—the Bishop was here when I left; he had
been here a day or two," answered Varbarriere, with a kind of effort.
"Then I need not introduce you—you're friends already," said Sir
Jekyl.
At which moment the assembled party learned that dinner awaited
them, and the murmured arrangements for the procession
commenced, and the drawing-room was left to the click of the Louis
Quatorze clock and the sadness of solitude.
"We had such a dispute, Monsieur Varbarriere, while you were
away," said Miss Blunket.
"About me, I hope," answered the gentleman addressed, in tolerable
English, and with a gallant jocularity.
"Well, no—not about you," said old Miss Blunket, timidly. "But I so
wished for you to take part in the argument."
"And why wish for me?" answered the sardonic old fellow, amused,
maybe the least bit in the world flattered.
"Well, I think you have the power, Monsieur Varbarriere, of putting a
great deal in very few words—I mean, of making an argument so
clear and short."
Varbarriere laughed indulgently, and began to think Miss Blunket a
rather intelligent person.
"And what was the subject, pray?"
"Whether life was happier in town or country."
"Oh! the old debate—country mouse against town mouse," replied
Varbarriere.
"Ah, just so—so true—I don't think anyone said that, and—and—I do
wish to know which side you would have taken."
"The condition being that it should be all country or all town, of
course, and that we were to retain our incomes?"
"Yes, certainly," said Miss Blunket, awaiting his verdict with a little bit
of bread suspended between her forefinger and thumb.
"Well, then, I should pronounce at once for the country," said
Varbarriere.
"I'm so glad—that's just what I said. I'm sure, said I, I should have
Monsieur Varbarriere on my side if he were here. I'm so glad I was
right. Did not you hear me say that?" said she, addressing Lady Jane
Lennox, whose steady look, obliquely from across the table a little
higher up, disconcerted her.
Lady Jane was not thinking of the debate, and asked in her quiet
haughty way—
"What is it?"
"Did I not say, yesterday, that Monsieur Varbarriere would vote for
the country, in our town or country argument, if he were here?"
"Oh! did you? Yes, I believe you did. I was not listening."
"And which side, pray, Lady Jane, would you have taken in that
ancient debate?" inquired Varbarriere, who somehow felt constrained
to address her.
"Neither side," answered she.
"What! neither town nor country—and how then?" inquired
Varbarriere, with a shrug and a smile.
"I think there is as much hypocrisy and slander in one as the other,
and I should have a new way—people living like the Chinese, in
boats, and never going on shore."
Varbarriere laughed—twiddled a bit of bread between his finger and
thumb, and leaned back, and looked down, still smiling, by the edge
of his plate; and was there not a little flush under the dark brown
tint of his face?
"That would be simply prison," ejaculated Miss Blunket.
"Yes, prison; and is not anything better than liberty with its
liabilities? Why did Lady Hester Stanhope go into exile in the East,
and why do sane men and women go into monasteries?"
Varbarriere looked at her with an odd kind of interest, and sighed
without knowing it; and he helped himself curiously to sweetbread, a
minute later, and for a time his share in the conversation flagged.
Lady Jane, he thought, was looking decidedly better than when he
left—very well, in fact—very well indeed—not at all like a person with
anything pressing heavily on her mind.
He glanced at her again. She was talking to old Sir Paul Blunket in a
bold careless way, which showed no sign of hidden care or fear.
"Have you been to town since?" inquired Sir Jekyl, who happened to
catch Varbarriere's eye at that moment, and availed himself of a
momentary lull in what we term the conversation, to put his
question.
"No; you think I have been pleasuring, but it was good honest
business, I assure you."
"Lady Alice here fancied you might have seen the General, and
learned something about his plans," continued Sir Jekyl.
"What General?—Lennox—eh?" inquired Varbarriere.
"Yes. What's your question, Lady Alice?" said the Baronet, turning to
that lady, and happily not observing an odd expression in
Varbarriere's countenance.
"No question; he has not been to London," answered the old lady,
drawing her shawl which she chose to dine in about her, chillily.
"Is it anything I can answer?" threw in Lady Jane, who, superbly
tranquil as she looked, would have liked to pull and box Lady Alice's
ears at that moment.
"Oh no, I fancy not; it's only the old question, when are we to see
the General; is he coming back at all?"
"I wish anyone could help me to an answer," laughed Lady Jane,
with a slight uneasiness, which might have been referred to the
pique which would not have been unnatural in a handsome wife
neglected.
"I begin to fear I shall leave Marlowe without having seen him," said
Lady Alice, peevishly.
"Yes, and it is not complimentary, you know; he disappeared just the
day before you came, and he won't come back till you leave; men
are such mysterious fellows, don't you think?" said Sir Jekyl.
"It doesn't look as if he liked her company. Did he ever meet you,
Lady Alice?" inquired Sir Paul Blunket in his bluff way, without at all
intending to be uncivil.
"That, you think, would account for it; much obliged to you, Sir
Paul," said Lady Alice, sharply.
Sir Paul did not see it, or what she was driving at, and looked at her
therefore with a grave curiosity, for he did not perceive that she was
offended.
"Sir Paul has a way of hitting people very hard, has not he, Lady
Alice? and then leaving them to recover of themselves," said Sir
Jekyl.
"There's not a great deal of civility wasted among you," observed
Lady Alice.
"I only meant," said Sir Paul, who felt that he should place himself
right, "that I could not see why General Lennox should avoid Lady
Alice, unless he was acquainted with her. There's nothing in that."
"By-the-bye, Lady Alice," said Sir Jekyl, who apprehended a possible
scene from that lady's temper, and like a good shepherd wished to
see his flock pasture peaceably together—"I find I can let you have
any quantity you like of that plant you admired yesterday. I forget its
name, and the Bishop says he has got one at the Palace with a
scarlet blossom; so, perhaps, if you make interest with him—what
do you say, my lord?"
So having engaged the good Bishop in floral conversation with that
fiery spirit, the Baronet asked Sir Paul whether he believed all that
was said about the great American cow; and what he thought of the
monster parsnip: and thus he set him and Lady Alice ambling on
different tracts, so that there was no risk of their breaking lances
again.
 CHAPTER XIII.
A Visitor in the Library.
The company were now pecking at those fruits over which Sir Jekyl
was wont to chuckle grimly, making pleasant satire on his gardener,
vowing he kept an Aladdin's garden, and that his greengages were
emeralds, and his gooseberries rubies.
In the midst of the talk, the grave and somewhat corpulent butler
stood behind his master's chair, and murmured something mildly in
his ear.
"What's his name?" inquired Sir Jekyl.
"Pullet, please, sir."
"Pullet! I never heard of him. If he had come a little earlier with a
knife and fork in his back, we'd have given a good account of him."
His jokes were chuckled to Lady Alice, who received them drowsily.
"Where have you put him?"
"In the library, please, sir."
"What kind of looking person?"
"A middlish sort of a person, rayther respectable, I should say, sir;
but dusty from his journey."
"Well, give him some wine, and let him have dinner, if he has not
had it before, and bring in his card just now."
All this occurred without exciting attention or withdrawing Sir Jekyl
from any sustained conversation, for he and Lady Alice had been left
high and dry on the bank together by the flow and ebb of talk,
which at this moment kept the room in a rattle; and Sir Jekyl only
now and then troubled her with a word.
"Pullet!" thought Sir Jekyl, he knew not why, uneasily. "Who the
devil's Pullet, and what the plague can Pullet want? It can't be
Paulett—can it? There's nothing on earth Paulett can want of me,
and he would not come at this hour. Pullet—Pullet—let us see." But
he could not see, there was not a soul he knew who bore that name.
"He's eating his dinner, sir, the gentleman, sir, in the small parlour,
and says you'll know him quite well, sir, when you see him,"
murmured the butler, "and more—"
"Have you got his card?"
"He said, sir, please, it would be time enough when he had heat his
dinner."
"Well, so it will."
And Sir Jekyl drank a glass of claret, and returned to his
ruminations.
"So, I shall know Pullet quite well when I see him," mused the
Baronet, "and he'll let me have his card when he has had his dinner
—a cool gentleman, whatever else he may be." About this Pullet,
however, Sir Jekyl experienced a most uncomfortable suspense and
curiosity. A bird of ill omen he seemed to him—an angel of sorrow,
he knew not why, in a mask.
While the Baronet sipped his claret, and walked quite alone in the
midst of his company, picking his anxious steps, and hearing strange
sounds through his valley of the shadow of death, the promiscuous
assemblage of ladies and gentlemen dissolved itself. The fair sex
rose, after their wont, smiled their last on the sable file of
gentlemen, who stood politely, napkin in hand, simpering over the
backs of their chairs, and, some of them majestically alone, others
sliding their fair hands affectionately within the others' arms, glided
through the door in celestial procession.
"I shall leave you to-morrow, Sir Jekyl," began the Bishop, gravely,
changing his seat to one just vacated beside his host, and bringing
with him his principal chattels, his wine-glasses and napkin.
"I do hope, my lord, you'll reconsider that," interrupted Sir Jekyl,
laying his fingers kindly on the prelate's purple sleeve. A dismal
cloud in Sir Jekyl's atmosphere was just then drifting over him, and
he clung, as men do under such shadows, to the contact of good
and early friendship.
"I am, I assure you, very sorry, and have enjoyed your hospitality
much—very much; but we can't rest long, you know: we hold a good
many strings, and matters won't wait our convenience."
"I'm only afraid you are overworked; but, of course, I understand
how you feel, and shan't press," said Sir Jekyl.
"And I was looking for you to-day in the library," resumed the
Bishop, "anxious for a few minutes, on a subject I glanced at when I
arrived."
"I—I know," said Sir Jekyl, a little hesitatingly.
"Yes, the dying wish of poor Sir Harry Marlowe, your father,"
murmured the Bishop, looking into his claret-glass, which he slowly
turned about by the stem; and, to do him justice, there was not a
quarter of a glassful remaining in the bottom.
"I know—to be sure. I quite agree with your lordship's view. I wish
to tell you that—quite, I assure you. I don't—I really don't at all
understand his reasons; but, as you say, it is a case for implicit
submission. I intend, I assure you, actually to take down that room
during the spring. It is of no real use, and rather spoils the house."
"I am happy, my dear Sir Jekyl, to hear you speak with so much
decision on the subject—truly happy;" and the venerable prelate laid
his hand with a gentle dignity on the cuff of Sir Jekyl's dress-coat,
after the manner of a miniature benediction. "I may then discharge
that quite from my mind?"
"Certainly—quite, my lord. I accept your views implicitly."
"And the box—the other wish—you know," murmured the Bishop.
"I must honestly say, I can't the least understand what can have
been in my poor father's mind when he told me to—to do what was
right with it—was not that it? For I do assure you, for the life of me,
I can't think of anything to be done with it but let it alone. I pledge
you my honour, however, if I ever do get the least inkling of his
meaning, I will respect it as implicitly as the other."
"Now, now, that's exactly what I wish. I'm perfectly satisfied you'll
do what's right."
And as he spoke the Bishop's countenance brightened, and he drank
slowly, looking up toward the ceiling, that quarter of a glass of claret
on which he had gazed for so long in the bottom of the crystal
chalice.
Just then the butler once more inclined his head from the back of Sir
Jekyl's chair, and presented a card to his master on the little salver
at his left side. It bore the inscription, "Mr. Pelter, Camelia Villa," and
across this, perpendicularly, after the manner of a joint "acceptance"
of the firm, was written—"Pelter and Crowe, Chambers, Lincoln's Inn
Fields," in bold black pencilled lines.
"Why did not you tell me that before?" whispered the Baronet, tartly,
half rising, with the card in his hand.
"I was not haware, Sir Jekyl. The gentleman, said his name exactly
like Pullet."
"In the library? Well—tell him I'm coming," said Sir Jekyl; and his
heart sank, he knew not why.
"Beg your pardon, my lord, for a moment—my man of business, all
the way from London, and I fancy in a hurry. I shall get rid of him
with a word or two—you'll excuse me? Dives, will you oblige me—
take my place for a moment, and see that the bottle does not stop;
or, Doocey, will you?—Dives is doing duty at the foot."
Doocey had hopes that the consultation with the butler portended a
bottle of that wonderful Constantia which he had so approved two
days before, and took his temporary seat hopefully.
Sir Jekyl, with a general apology and a smile glided away without
fuss, and the talk went on much as before.
When the parlour-door shut behind Sir Jekyl, his face darkened. "I
know it's some stupid thing," he thought, as he walked down the
gallery with rapid steps, toward the study, the sharp air agitating, as
he did so, his snowy necktie and glossy curls.
"How d'ye do, Mr. Pelter?—very happy to see you. I had not a notion
it was you—the stupid fellow gave me quite another name. Quite
well, I hope?"
"Quite well, Sir Jekyl, I thank you—a—quite well," said the attorney,
a stoutish, short, wealthy-looking man, with a massive gold chain, a
resolute countenance, and a bullet head, with close-cut greyish hair.
Pelter was, indeed, an able, pushing fellow, without Latin or even
English grammar, having risen in the office from a small clerkship,
and, perhaps, was more useful than his gentlemanlike partner.
"Well—a—well, and what has brought you down here? Very glad to
see you, you know; but you would not run down for fun, I'm afraid,"
said Sir Jekyl.
"Au—no—au, well, Sir Jekyl, it has turned out, sir—by gad, sir, I
believe them fellows are in England, after all!"
"What do you mean by them fellows?" said Sir Jekyl, with a very
dark look, unconsciously repeating the attorney's faulty grammar.
"Strangways and Deverell, you know—I mean them—Herbert
Strangways, and a young man named Deverell—they're in England,
I've been informed, very private—and Strangways has been with
Smith, Rumsey, and Snagg—the office—you know; and there is
something on the stocks there."
As the attorney delivered this piece of intelligence he kept his eye
shrewdly on Sir Jekyl, rather screwed and wrinkled, as a man looks
against a storm.
"Oh!—is that all? There's nothing very alarming, is there, in that?—
though, d—— me, I don't see, Mr. Pelter, how you reconcile your
present statement with what you and your partner wrote to me
twice within the last few weeks."
"Very true, Sir Jekyl; perfectly true, sir. Our information misled us
totally; they have been devilish sharp, sir—devilish sly. We never
were misled before about that fellow's movements—not that they
were ever of any real importance."
"And why do you think them—but maybe you don't—of more
consequence now?"
Pelter looked unpleasantly important, and shook his head.
"What is it—I suppose I may know?" said Sir Jekyl.
"It looks queerish, Sir Jekyl, there's no denying that—in fact, very
queerish indeed—both me and my partner think so. You recollect the
deed?"
"No—devil a deed—d—— them all!—I don't remember one of them.
Why, you seem to forget it's nearly ten years ago," interrupted the
Baronet.
"Ah!—no—not ten—the copy of the deed that we got hold of,
pretending to be a marriage settlement. It was brought us, you
know, in a very odd way, but quite fair."
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