(Ebook) RFID and Auto-ID in Planning and Logistics: A Practical Guide for Military UID Applications by Erick C. Jones, Christopher A. Chung ISBN 9781420094275, 9781420094282, 1420094270, 1420094289 - The full ebook with all chapters is available for download now
(Ebook) RFID and Auto-ID in Planning and Logistics: A Practical Guide for Military UID Applications by Erick C. Jones, Christopher A. Chung ISBN 9781420094275, 9781420094282, 1420094270, 1420094289 - The full ebook with all chapters is available for download now
https://ebooknice.com/product/biota-grow-2c-gather-2c-cook-6661374
https://ebooknice.com/product/sat-ii-success-
math-1c-and-2c-2002-peterson-s-sat-ii-success-1722018
https://ebooknice.com/product/matematik-5000-kurs-2c-larobok-23848312
(Ebook) Master SAT II Math 1c and 2c 4th ed (Arco Master the SAT
Subject Test: Math Levels 1 & 2) by Arco ISBN 9780768923049,
0768923042
https://ebooknice.com/product/master-sat-ii-math-1c-and-2c-4th-ed-
arco-master-the-sat-subject-test-math-levels-1-2-2326094
(Ebook) Cambridge IGCSE and O Level History Workbook 2C - Depth Study:
the United States, 1919-41 2nd Edition by Benjamin Harrison ISBN
9781398375147, 9781398375048, 1398375144, 1398375047
https://ebooknice.com/product/cambridge-igcse-and-o-level-history-
workbook-2c-depth-study-the-united-states-1919-41-2nd-edition-53538044
https://ebooknice.com/product/auto-identification-and-ubiquitous-
computing-applications-rfid-and-smart-technologies-for-information-
convergence-premier-reference-source-1703622
https://ebooknice.com/product/research-methods-and-statistics-for-
public-and-nonprofit-administrators-a-practical-guide-7349854
RFID and Auto-ID
in Planning and Logistics
A Practical Guide for Military UID Applications
This book contains information obtained from authentic and highly regarded sources. Reasonable efforts have been made to
publish reliable data and information, but the author and publisher cannot assume responsibility for the validity of all materials
or the consequences of their use. The authors and publishers have attempted to trace the copyright holders of all material repro-
duced in this publication and apologize to copyright holders if permission to publish in this form has not been obtained. If any
copyright material has not been acknowledged please write and let us know so we may rectify in any future reprint.
Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Law, no part of this book may be reprinted, reproduced, transmitted, or utilized in any
form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying, microfilming,
and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without written permission from the publishers.
For permission to photocopy or use material electronically from this work, please access www.copyright.com (http://www.copy-
right.com/) or contact the Copyright Clearance Center, Inc. (CCC), 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, 978-750-8400.
CCC is a not-for-profit organization that provides licenses and registration for a variety of users. For organizations that have been
granted a photocopy license by the CCC, a separate system of payment has been arranged.
Trademark Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identifica-
tion and explanation without intent to infringe.
Visit the Taylor & Francis Web site at
http://www.taylorandfrancis.com
v
vi Contents
Chapter 2 U.S. Department of Defense and North Atlantic Treaty Organization Supply
Classes and National Stock Numbers.........................................................................25
2.1 Introduction......................................................................................................25
2.2 Specific Supply Class Details...........................................................................26
2.2.1 Class I: Food........................................................................................26
2.2.2 Class II: Clothing................................................................................26
2.2.3 Class III: Fuel and Lubricants............................................................. 27
2.2.4 Class IV: Barrier or Fortification Materials........................................ 27
Contents vii
Chapter 15 Obsolete Inventory Reduction with Modified Carrying Cost Ratio......................... 183
15.1 Introduction.................................................................................................... 183
15.2 Two-Echelon Model....................................................................................... 183
15.3 One-Echelon Model........................................................................................ 185
15.4 Modified Carrying Cost Ratio Model............................................................ 186
15.5 Results: Case Study........................................................................................ 187
15.6 Facilities Costs................................................................................................ 187
15.7 Purchasing Costs............................................................................................ 188
15.8 Modified Carrying Cost Ratio........................................................................ 188
15.9 Inventory Turn Analysis................................................................................. 189
15.10 Decision.......................................................................................................... 189
15.11 Conclusion...................................................................................................... 189
Chapter 17 Forecasting................................................................................................................209
17.1 Time Horizon in Forecasting..........................................................................209
17.2 Characteristics of Forecasts............................................................................209
17.3 Subjective Forecasting Models....................................................................... 210
17.4 Objective Forecasting Methods...................................................................... 211
17.4.1 Causal Models................................................................................... 211
17.4.2 Time Series Methods......................................................................... 212
17.5 Notation Conventions..................................................................................... 212
17.6 Evaluating Forecasts....................................................................................... 213
17.7 Methods for Forecasting Stationary Series.................................................... 214
17.7.1 Moving Averages............................................................................... 214
17.7.1.1 Moving Average Lags behind the Trend........................... 215
17.7.2 Exponential Smoothing..................................................................... 216
17.7.3 Comparison of Exponential Smoothing and Moving .
Averages............................................................................................ 217
17.7.3.1 Similarities......................................................................... 217
17.7.3.2 Differences......................................................................... 217
17.8 Trend-Based Methods..................................................................................... 217
17.8.1 Regression Analysis.......................................................................... 218
17.8.2 Double Exponential Smoothing Using Holt’s .
Method.............................................................................................. 219
17.9 Advanced Methods......................................................................................... 219
xvi Contents
Chapter 28 Other Foreign Countries Armed Forces Adoption of RFID Technology................. 301
28.1 New Zealand Military Clothing RFID Applications..................................... 301
28.1.1 Application........................................................................................ 301
28.1.2 Summary...........................................................................................302
28.2 Spanish Armed Forces RFID Efforts.............................................................302
28.2.1 Application........................................................................................ 303
28.2.2 Summary of Spanish Armed Forces RFID Efforts.......................... 303
28.3 French Armed Forces RFID Efforts.............................................................. 303
T
hat was what he was longing for—for the claimant to come in
person and lay a hand upon her. He felt that he would have
given half his estate for the chance of answering the fellow as
he should be answered—not by any reference to the opinions of
those half-pagan patriarchs known as The Fathers; not by any
reference to the views promulgated in the Middle Ages by that
succession of thieving voluptuaries, murderers and
excommunicators, the heads of the Church of Rome; or by modern
sentimentalists struggling to reach the focus of the public eye—no,
but by the aid of a dog-whip.
That was what he was longing for in these days—the chance to
use his dog-whip upon the body of Marcus Blaydon. But Marcus
Blaydon did not seem particularly anxious to give him the chance,
and this fact caused his indignation against the man to increase. He
felt as indignant as the henwife when her favourite chicken had
shown some reluctance to come out of its coop to be killed.
It was the Reverend Osney Possnett, the vicar of Athalsdean, who
paid a visit to the Manor House. Mr. Possnett had not been able to
officiate at the marriage ceremony between Priscilla and Marcus
Blaydon; he had been in Italy at the time; it was his curate for the
time being, the Reverend Sylvanus Purview, who had married them.
Doubtless if Mr. Purview had remained in the parish he would have
paid Priscilla a visit when still under her father’s roof, to offer her
official consolation upon the untoward incident which, happening at
the church porch immediately after the ceremony, had deprived her
(as it turned out) of the society of her husband; but the Reverend
Sylvanus Purview had found that the air of the Downs was too
bracing for him, and he had quitted the parish a few days after the
vicar’s return, leaving the vicar to pay for his month’s board and
lodging, which he himself had, by some inadvertence that was never
fully explained, omitted doing, although it was afterwards discovered
that he had borrowed from Churchwarden Wadhurst the money
necessary for this purpose.
Mr. Possnett had, however, made up for his curate’s official
deficiencies, as well as his monetary, and had spoken very seriously
to Priscilla, on his return from Siena, on the subject of what he
termed her trial—though it was really to Marcus Blaydon’s trial he
was alluding.
Priscilla had listened.
And now the Reverend Osney Possnett would not accept the
formal statement of the footman, that Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield were
not at home, but had written a few lines on the back of his card,
begging Priscilla to allow him to speak a few words to her.
“I wouldn’t bother with him, if I were you,” said Jack when she
showed him the card. “We have no use for your Reverend Osney
Possnett. But please yourself.”
“I don’t want to be rude,” said Priscilla.
“No, but he does,” said Jack.
“I don’t mind his rudeness,” she cried. “Perhaps—who can tell?—
he may have something important to communicate to me—
something material——”
“They scorn anything bordering on the material,” remarked Jack,
“except when they get hold of a fraudulent prospectus with a
promise of eighty per cent, dividends. But see him if you have any
feeling in the matter.”
“I think I should see him, Jack.”
“Then see him. I’m sure he won’t mind if I clear off.”
So Jack went out of the room by the one door and the Reverend
Osney Possnett was admitted by the other. The room was the large
drawing-room with the cabinets of Wedgwood; and the sofa on
which Priscilla sat was of the design of that in which Madame de
Pompadour was painted by Boucher. It is, however, scarcely
conceivable that the Reverend Osney Possnett became aware of any
sinister suggestiveness in this coincidence.
He shook hands with her, not warmly, not even socially, but strictly
officially.
“Priscilla,” he said—he had known her from her childhood
—“Priscilla, I have seen your father. He has told me all. I felt it to be
my duty to come to you—to take you away from here.”
She looked up and laughed—just in the way that Mrs. Patrick
Campbell laughs in “Magda” when the man makes the suggestion
about the child. Priscilla’s rendering of that laugh made her visitor
feel angry. He was not accustomed to be laughed at—certainly not
to his face. He took a step toward her in a way that suggested
scarcely curbed indignation.
“Priscilla,” he cried, “have you realized what you are doing? Have
you realized what you are—what you must be called so long as you
remain in this house?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I am Mr. Wingfield’s wife, and I am called Mrs.
Wingfield by all in this house, and I must be called so by everyone
who visits at this house!”
“You are not his wife—you know that you are not his wife,” said
Mr. Possnett, vehemently.
“I know that I am his wife, Mr. Possnett,” she replied with irritating
gentleness. “I married him in accordance with the law of the land.”
“But you were already married—that you have found out; so your
marriage was no marriage.”
“I agree with you—my marriage with Marcus Blaydon was no
marriage.”
“It was a marriage, celebrated in the house of God, by a priest of
God, that made it a marriage—sacred; and yet you——”
“Sacred? Sacred? Mr. Possnett, do not be so foolish, I beg of you.
Don’t be so—so profane. Surely the sacredness of marriage does not
begin and end with the form of words spoken in the church. Surely it
is on account of its spiritual impulses that a marriage, the foundation
of which is love, is sacred. A marriage is made sacred by the
existence of a mutual love, and by that only. Is not that the truth?”
“I have not come here to-day to discuss with you any quibble,
Priscilla. You know that you can legally have but one husband and
——”
“Ah! I had no idea that you would make such a sudden drop from
the question of the sacredness of marriage to the question of mere
legality. I understood that the Church’s first and only line of defence
was the spirituality of marriage—the sacred symbolism—the mystery.
Now you drop at once to the mundane level of the law—you talk of
the legal marriage. I thank God, Mr. Possnett, that I adopt a higher
tone. I elect to stand on a loftier level than yours. I do not talk of
legality, but of spirituality.”
“You cannot evade your responsibility by harping on words or
phrases, Priscilla. In any question of marriage one cannot express
too rigid an adherence to what is legal and what is illegal.”
“In that case, then, surely we shall be able to obtain a divorce in a
court of law——”
“There is no such thing as divorce.”
Mr. Possnett had unwittingly walked into the trap laid for his feet
by a young woman who had for years been acquainted with his
individual views respecting the dissolution by a court of law of a
marriage celebrated in a church of God.
“There is no such thing as divorce,” he said. “I refuse to recognize
the validity of a so-called decree of divorce. I would think it my duty
to refuse to perform the service of marriage between two persons
either of whom had been divorced. Having once said the words,
‘Whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder!’”
“But surely divorce is perfectly legal, Mr. Possnett?” said Priscilla.
“I care nothing for that.”
“But you said just now that in all questions of marriage one must
be bound down by what is legal and what is illegal; and now you tell
me that you refuse to be bound down to a legal decree of divorce.
Oh, Mr. Possnett, you cannot blow both hot and cold in the same
breath.”
“In all matters but this—but our Church permits a priest to hold
his own opinion, if it be formed on conscientious grounds. It is not
like the Church of Rome; it recognizes the imperative nature of the
call of religious scruples on the part of an individual priest.”
“And the Church does well. Let the priest follow the example of his
Church, and recognize the spiritual exigencies of a poor woman who
loved a man and married him in all honesty of purpose and in all
good faith.”
“Talk not to me of such things; the fact remains—the terrible truth
—that man is not your husband. Priscilla, this is, I know, a great
trial; but you know whence it comes. I have taught you ill all these
years if you fail to acknowledge the Hand—the Hand—you know that
it comes from God.”
“That is the reflection which prevents me from being
overwhelmed, Mr. Possnett. I try to feel that it all comes from God—
that it is meant to try our faith, and I cannot doubt that its effect will
be to draw us closer together, my dear husband and myself—nay, I
have felt that it has done so already. Our faith in each other has
been strengthened—it has indeed.”
“That is not the object of the trial. Trial is sent to purify the soul,
as gold is tried by fire; the furnace of affliction is meant to cleanse,
not to strengthen one’s persistence in a course of sin.”
“I have never doubted it, Mr. Possnett, nor can I doubt that this
burden, though it is hard to bear, will but strengthen our characters
—strengthen all those qualities which go to build up into one life the
life of a man and a woman who love each other, and whose faith in
each other has been proved under the stress of adversity.”
The Reverend Osney Possnett felt that he was now being
subjected to a greater trial of patience than he could bear. Here was
this young woman, the daughter of his own churchwarden, facing
him and turning and twisting his words to suit her own pernicious
views! He could almost fancy that she was mocking him. He could
scarcely believe that such a trial should be included among those of
celestial origin.
“Priscilla, I, your priest, tell you that you are living in sin with this
man who is not your husband, and I command you to forsake this
life and to forsake that man who, I doubt not, has tempted you by
the allurements of a higher position in life than that for which you
were intended by God, to be false to your Church, false to the
teaching of its priest, false to your own better nature. Leave him,
Priscilla; leave him before it is too late!”
Again she laughed; but this time it was with a different
expression.
“I cannot say ‘Retro me? because I am not resisting any
temptation,” she said. “You have shown that you do not understand
in the least how I feel in regard to my position—you could not
possibly understand me if I were to refer to the church in which you
preach as a house of sin.”
“Priscilla, for God’s sake, pause—pause——”
“I have not called it a house of sin; God forbid that I should be so
foolish! but it was made the means of my committing the greatest
sin of my life—the abandonment of myself—myself—at the bidding
of my parents. All that has happened since, you have assured me as
a delegate, is to be part of a great trial sent for the purification of
my heart, my soul, whatever you please. Well, I told you that I
accepted that view and that I hoped I should come away from it
purified and strengthened. But I cannot get away altogether from
the thought that perhaps it may be a judgment on myself for being
untrue to myself when I entered your church at the bidding of my
father and my mother to say words that I knew to be false—that
they knew to be false—to make promises that I knew it would be a
crime to keep.”
“I care nothing about that, Priscilla. All that concerns me is that
you were joined to a man according to the rites of the Holy Church,
and that, he being still alive you are now wife to him and to no
other.”
“And you would have me now go to him and live with him as his
wife according to God’s holy ordinance, and to keep those promises
which I made in your church?”
“I solemnly affirm that such is your duty.”
“You say that, knowing the man, and knowing that he is a criminal
—that he married me to save himself from the consequences of his
crime—you can tell me that I should worship him with my body, that
I should love, honour, and obey him till death us do part? Knowing
that I have never had any love for him, you tell me that my place is
by his side?”
“Your place is by his side. The words of the Prayer-book are there;
no Christian priest has any option in the matter. The mystic words
have been said. ‘The twain shall be one flesh.’”
“Ah, there is the difference between us—the flesh. You will insist
on looking at the fleshly side of marriage, whereas I look on the
spiritual. Don’t you think that there may be something to be said in
favour of the spiritual aspect of marriage—the marriage voice which
says, not, ‘The twain shall be one flesh,’ but ‘The twain shall be one
spirit’? What, Mr. Possnett, will you say that marriage is solely a
condition of the flesh?”
“I refuse to answer any question put to me in this spirit by a
woman who is living in sin with a man who is not her husband.”
“You will admit that the trial to which I have been subjected has
influenced me for good—making me patient and forbearing in the
face of a repeated insult such as I would not have tolerated from
any human being a week ago. I have listened to you, and I have
even brought myself to pay you the compliment of discussing with
you a matter which concerns only my husband and myself, but you
have not even thought it worth your while to be polite to me—to
treat me as an erring sister. You come with open insults—with an
assumption of authority—to pronounce one thing sin and another
thing duty. But your authority is a mockery—as great a mockery as
the enquiry in the marriage service, ‘Who giveth this woman to be
married to this man?’ when you know that the pew-cleaner will be
accepted by the priest as the one who possesses that authority. Your
authority is a mockery, and your counsel is worth no more than that
of any other man of some education, of abilities which have the
lowest market value of those required for any profession, and
experiences of the most limited character.”
“Woman—Priscilla, you forget yourself!”
The Reverend Osney Possnett, who had never had a chance in his
life of reaching a point of declamation beyond what was necessary
for the adequate reproof of a ploughman for neglecting to attend
Divine service, and who had never been addressed except with
respect bordering upon awe since the days of his curacy, found
himself in a mental condition for which the word flabbergasted was
invented by a philologist in the lumber trade. When he had told
Priscilla that she was forgetting herself he forgot himself. He forgot
his part. He had come to the Manor House, on the invitation of his
churchwarden, Farmer Wadhurst, to administer a severe rebuke to
Farmer Wadhurst’s self-willed daughter, whose early religious
instruction he had superintended, and who, he saw no reason to
doubt, would be at once amenable to his ministration; but he found
himself forced not only to enter into something of an argument with
her—a course of action which was very distasteful to him—but also
to be reproved by her for a sensualist, looking at the fleshly side of
marriage instead of the spiritual—to be told by her that his opinion
was of no greater value than that of an ordinary man who had never
been granted the distinction of holy orders, which the whole world
recognizes as a proof of the possession of the highest culture, pagan
as well as Christian, the most virile human intellect, and an intuitive
knowledge of mankind, such as ordinary people can only gain by
experience!
He had come to be letter-perfect in the part which he had meant
to play in her presence, and with a good working knowledge of the
“business” of the part; but she had failed to act up to him. She had
disregarded the cues which he waited for from her, and the result
was naturally the confusion that now confronted him—that now
overwhelmed him. He had in his mind actually, if unconsciously, the
feeling that it was her failure in regard to her cues which had put
him out, when he cried:
“Priscilla, you forget yourself.”
“No, you do not quite mean that,” she said, with a disconcerting
readiness; “you do not quite mean that; you mean that I forget that
for years I sat Sunday after Sunday under your pulpit listening to
your preaching—that for years and years you gave your opinion,
which was followed without question, to my father and mother on
the subject of my bringing up; that until now I was submissive to
you, with all the members of the household. That is what you had
on your mind just now, and I do not wonder at it. I have amazed
you. I don’t doubt it; I have amazed myself. The troubles which I
have had during the past eighteen months—you call them trials, and
that is the right word—have been the means of showing me myself
—showing me what I am as an individual: that I am not merely as a
single grain of sand running down with a million other grains in the
hour-glass only to mark time till the whole are swallowed up. I thank
God for those trials which have made me what I am to-day. I can
even thank God for the present trial, terrible though it seems,
because I have faith in God’s way of working to bring out all that is
best in man and woman; and I know that we shall come out of it
with our love for each other strengthened and our belief in God
strengthened. That is what you forgot when you came here to-day,
Mr. Possnett; you forgot the power that there is in suffering to
develop the character, the nature, the individuality, the human
feeling and the Divine love of every one who experiences it. That
was your mistake: you did not make allowance for God’s purpose in
suffering. You thought that I should be the same to-day that I was
eighteen months ago. You have much to learn, both of God and
man, Mr. Possnett. So have I. I am learning daily.”
The Reverend Osney Possnett lifted up his hands—the attitude
was that of Moses blessing the congregation; but by a sudden
increase of emphasis and a tightening of the hands into fists it
became the attitude of Balak the son of Zippor reproving Balaam the
Prophet for having betrayed the confidence reposed in him as an
agent of commination. He was not a man of any intelligence worth
speaking of, and with so limited an experience of the world that the
least departure from the usual found him without resources for
meeting it. Such men are unwise if they make the attempt to play
the usual against the unusual. They are wisest in avoiding it.
The Reverend Osney Possnett showed that he was not without
wisdom by his retreat. Sorrow and not indignation was the lubricant
of his farewell. His prayer was that she might be brought to see in
what direction the truth lay before it should be too late.
And that was just the prayer to which Priscilla could say “Amen!”
with all her heart.
CHAPTER XXXI
T
wo days later the papers were full of the news of the
reappearance of Marcus Blaydon.
Jack Wingfield had been very impatient of the delay. Every
morning that he opened the newspapers, and drew them blank, he
swore at the man. What the mischief was he waiting for? Was he
such an idiot as to fancy that he, Jack Wingfield, was likely to give a
more promising reply to his demands than he had already given
him? Did he hope to gain anything by merely menacing him in
regard to the publication of his story?
Priscilla was clever enough to see that the man had hoped much
from the visit which her father had paid her, and perhaps even more
from that of the Vicar of Athalsdean. She felt sure that she saw what
was the sort of game he meant to play when he returned to
England. He had meant to try the familiar game of blackmail in the
first instance, being idiot enough to think that Priscilla would jump at
the chance of being allowed to pay over some thousands of pounds
for his promise to clear out of the country and tell no human being
that he was her husband. Failing, however, to convince her or
Wingfield that their position would be to any extent improved by the
acceptance of his terms, he had gone to her father, knowing that he
had a sheet-anchor in the enormous respectability of Farmer
Wadhurst. He did not want Priscilla—if he had wanted her he would
have hurried to her the moment he found himself free, if only to tell
her that he meant to start life afresh, in order that he might win her
love and redeem the past—no; he did not want her; but he was well
aware of the fact that her father was a moderately wealthy man, and
that Priscilla was his only child. These were the possibilities that
appealed to him. Perhaps the father might show his readiness to pay
a respectable price for the preservation untarnished of the
respectability of the family; but failing that, he might still be able to
make a good thing out of the connection, for his father-in-law would
stand by him, could he be made to see that it would be for the good
of the family to stand by him. But her father’s mission and the
mission of the Reverend Osney Possnett having failed, the man had
no further reason for delay in making public the romantic incidents
in which he had taken a prominent part.
These represented the surmises of Priscilla and Jack, and they
were not erroneous in substance, though in some particulars not
absolutely accurate, as they afterwards found out.
What Jack confessed his inability to account for was the flight of
the man across the Atlantic, when he had such good prospects
opening before him as the husband of Priscilla, the daughter of that
prosperous agriculturist, Mr. Wadhurst. To be sure, it was just on this
point that he had allowed his imagination some play when he had
that conversation with Marcus Blaydon. He had suggested that the
fellow had gone across the Atlantic in order to be with some woman
whom he had known before; but Jack was scarcely inclined to give
the man credit for a disinterested attachment such as this, when he
had such good prospects at home as the lawful husband of a
beautiful young woman, whose society (post-nuptial) he had had but
a very restricted opportunity of enjoying.
That was a matter which, he saw, required some explanation; but
he felt sure that the explanation would come in good time; and it
would be his, Jack Wingfield’s, aim to expedite its arrival; and he
knew that the success of the nullity suit depended on his finding out
all about that unaccountable attachment which had forced a
mercenary trickster into an unaccountable position.
But here were the newspapers at last containing the information
that Marcus Blaydon, who had been placed in the early part of the
summer in the forefront of the rank of maritime heroes—by far the
most picturesque of all heroic phalanxes—had returned to England,
none the less a hero because he had by a miracle (described in
detail) escaped the consequences of his heroism; and engaged—also
without prejudice to the claims made on his behalf when his name
was last before the eyes of the public—in the discharge of a duty so
painful as to cause him to feel that it would have been better if he
had perished among the rocks where he had lain insensible for many
hours after doing his best to rescue his messmates from a watery
grave, than to have survived that terrible night.
That is what the announcements in some of the newspapers came
to. But they had the tone of the preliminary announcements of a
matter which is supposed to contain certain elements of interest to
the public later on, if the public will only have the kindness to keep
an eye upon the papers. Some of the phrases—including that
important one about the “watery grave,” appeared in all the
accounts of the matter; but in a few cases the news did not occupy
a greater space than an ordinary paragraph, while in others the
attention of casual readers was drawn to it by the adventitious aid of
some startling headlines—two of these introducing the name of
Enoch Arden. Not once, however, in any newspaper, was the name
of Mr. Wingfield introduced.
“They read like a rangefinder,” remarked Mr. Wingfield, when he
had gone through every line of the paragraphs. “That is what the
fellow is doing—he is trying to find out our position.”
But there was no need for the invention of such a theory to
account for the guarded omissions in the paragraphs, the truth being
simply that the professional correspondent of the Press agency who
had handled the item understood his business. He had no wish to
drag the name of a member of Parliament into a piece of news
offered to him by a man whose trial for embezzlement he had
attended professionally the previous year. In addition, he perceived
how it was possible for him to nurse the information, if it stood the
test of enquiry, until it should yield to him a small fortune. He
understood his business, and his business was to understand the
palate of newspaper readers.
And that was how it came that Mr. Wingfield was waited on by a
well-dressed and very polite literary gentleman that same day, and
invited to make any statement which he would have no objection to
read in print the next morning on the subject of the return of the
heroic Marcus Blaydon.
“The man told you, I suppose, that his trying mission to England
was to claim the lady from whom he was parted at the church door
after their marriage, and whom I married a short time ago,” said Mr.
Wingfield, M.P.
“That is the substance of the statement which he made to me
yesterday, sir,” said his visitor. “I hesitated to transmit it to my
agency at London, not wishing, on the authority of a man of his
antecedents, even though endorsed by Mr. Wadhurst, to publish a
single line that might possibly—possibly——”
“Be made the subject of a libel action—is that what is on your
mind?” said Mr. Wingfield.
“Of course—but in the back of my mind, Mr. Wingfield,” replied the
other. “What I was really anxious to avoid was saying anything
calculated to give pain to——”
“I appreciate your consideration,” said Jack pleasantly; “but I
know that omelettes cannot be made without breaking eggs.”
“Yes, sir; but I should like to avoid a bad egg.”
“Then you would do well to avoid Marcus Blaydon.”
The gentleman laughed, and shook his head.
“A bad egg, beyond doubt, Mr. Wingfield; but good enough for
some culinary operations,” said the skilful paragraphist. “It is true,
then, that he was really married to the lady whom you subsequently
—” Jack saw the word “espoused” trembling on his lips, and he
hastened to save him from the remorse which he would be certain to
feel when he should awaken at nights, and remember that he had
employed that word solely to save his repeating the word “married.”
“I believe that to be the truth,” he said at once. “The man came
here and claimed the lady as his wife, but she declined to admit his
claim, pending the result of her appeal to the proper quarter for the
annulment of her marriage with him.”
The gentleman whipped out his note-book in a moment, and
made with the rapidity of lightning some hundreds of outline
drawings of gulls flying, and miniature arches, and many-toed crabs,
and trophies of antlers, interspersed with dots and monkeys’ tails,
variously twisted, and Imperial moustaches similarly treated.
“Mrs.—Wingfield—” the gentleman had infinite tact and taste
—“Mrs. Wingfield is making such an application? Messrs. Liscomb
and Liscomb, I suppose?”
“Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb.”
“With Sir Edward retained, of course?”
“With Sir Edward. You seem pretty well acquainted with the
procedure.”
The gentleman smiled.
“I have been connected with the Press for fifteen years, sir,” he
said. “May I ask one more question, Mr. Wingfield? Is it the intention
of the—of Mrs. Wingfield to remain at the Manor House pending the
result of the litigation?”
“You may take it from me that she will run no risks,” said Jack.
“She will not change her present domicile for any other, so long as
Marcus Blaydon remains out of gaol.”
The visitor made some more lightning drawings in outline, and
then became thoughtful.
“May I venture to express the hope that Mrs. Wingfield is in good
health, sir?” he said—“in good health, and confident of the result of
her application for a pronouncement of nullity?” he added, after a
hesitating moment.
“She is in excellent health and spirits, thank you,” replied Jack. “Of
course, in matters of law one must always expect delay, and in such
a point as that upon which we await a decision, it is natural that one
should become impatient. However, we know that there is nothing
for it but to sit tight for a month or two.”
“I’m extremely obliged to you for this interview, Mr. Wingfield,”
said the gentleman, turning over a new leaf of his note-book, and
looking up with his pencil ready. “Now, if there is anything whatever
that you would like to be made public in this connection——”
“I don’t know that I have anything in my mind beyond what I
have just told you,” said Mr. Wingfield. “Of course, you can easily
understand that we would greatly prefer that nothing should appear
in the newspapers about us or our lawsuits until they are actually
before the courts, but we know that that would be to expect too
much.”
“If I am not taking too great a liberty, sir, I would say that,
unpleasant though it may appear from some standpoints to have the
particulars published, you will find that in the long run it will be
advantageous to you. Public sympathy is better to have with one
than against one.”
“I suppose it is second only to having the law on one’s side.”
“Public sympathy is superior to the law, Mr. Wingfield; and they
are beginning to find that out on the other side of the Atlantic. This
case is certain to attract a large amount of attention. You see, we
are just entering on the month of August. Upon my word, I shouldn’t
wonder if it became the Topic of the Autumn—I shouldn’t indeed, Mr.
Wingfield. Well, I’m extremely obliged to you, sir; and I won’t take
up any more of your time. Good morning.”
“Good morning. Any time that you want any information that you
think I can give you, don’t hesitate to come to me.”
“You are very kind, sir. I should be sorry to intrude.”
So the representative of the Press went his ways, congratulating
himself on having, after a Diogenes-search lasting, for several years,
come upon a sensible man and a straightforward man, devoid of
frills. Most men who had attained, by the exertions of their
forefathers, to the position of landed proprietors, he had found to be
not easy to approach on matters which they called private matters,
but which newspaper men called public matters. Mr. Wingfield,
however, so far from resenting an interview on a subject which
required to be handled with extreme delicacy, had actually given him
encouragement to repeat his visit.
He was determined that Mr. Wingfield and the cause which he had
at heart should not suffer by his display of a most unusual courtesy.
The next day all England was discussing the case of the new
Enoch Arden. They would have discussed the case throughout the
length and breadth of the land simply on account of the romantic
elements that it contained, even if the lady who played so important
a part in it had been an ordinary young person; but as she was a
lady whose achievements during the last byelection had been
directly under the eye of the public, the interest in the romance was
immeasurably increased. The representative of the Press agency
who had the handling of the story from the first, had not found it
necessary to embellish in any way the account of his interview with
Marcus Blaydon in the morning or with Mr. Wingfield in the
afternoon. After alluding to the mystery suggested by Mr. Blaydon’s
remark, published in connection with his reappearance in the land of
the living the previous day, he described how he had waited upon
Mr. Blaydon to try to convince him that the painful matters which
had necessitated his making a voyage to England could scarcely fail
to be of interest to newspaper readers; and how he had succeeded
in convincing Mr. Blaydon of the correctness of his contention. Mr.
Blaydon had then described the incidents associated with his escape
from destruction; how he had been cast upon the rocks in his
attempt to carry a line ashore, and how he had lain there for some
days, with practically nothing to eat, and apparently suffering from
such internal injuries as prevented him from reaching the house
where those of his messmates who had survived the terrible night
were being so hospitably treated.
Then, according to his own account, it occurred to Mr. Blaydon
that the chance of his life had come—such a chance as comes but
too rarely to an unfortunate man who has acted foolishly, but is
anxious to redeem the past—the chance of beginning life over again.
He was well aware, he said, that he would be reported as dead, and
that was just what he wished for: to be dead to all the world, so that
he might have another chance of succeeding in life without being
handicapped by his unhappy past.
So Mr. Blaydon’s story went on, telling how he had just made a
start in this new life of his, when by chance he came upon an
English newspaper, referring to the fact that the gentleman who had
agreed to contest the Nuttingford division of Nethershire at the by-
election had just married the daughter of Mr. Wadhurst of
Athalsdean Farm. Then, and only then, did he, the narrator, perceive
that he would have acted more wisely if he had written to the lady
who believed herself to be his widow, apprising her of the fact of his
being alive, and endeavouring to make for himself a name that she
might bear without a blush. (Mr. Blaydon was well acquainted, it
appeared, with the phraseology of the repentant sinner of the Drury
Lane autumn drama.)
“What was my duty when I heard that my wife had gone through
the ceremony of marriage with another man?” That was the
question which perplexed Mr. Blaydon, as a conscientious man
anxious not to diverge a hair’s breadth from the line of Duty—strict
duty. Well, perhaps some people might blame him; but he confessed
that the thought of his dear wife—the girl whom he had wooed and
won very little more than a year before—going to another man and
living with him believing herself to be his wife, was too much for
him. He made up his mind that so shocking a situation could not be
allowed to continue, and he had made his way back to her side,
only, alas! to be repulsed and turned out of her house with
contempt, though the fact that her father had received him with the
open arms of a father in welcoming the return of the prodigal,
proved that even in these days, etc., etc.
Stripped of all emotional verbiage, Mr. Blaydon’s statements simply
amounted to a declaration of his intention to apply to the court to
make an order to restore to him his conjugal rights in respect of the
lady who was incontestably his lawful wife.
Following this was the account of an interview with Mr. Wingfield,
M.P., who, it appeared, had already taken action in the matter on
behalf of the lady referred to by Mr. Blaydon. The interviewer
succeeded in conveying to a reader something of what he termed
the “breezy colloquial style” of Mr. Wingfield, in the latter’s
references to the Enoch Ardenism of Mr. Blaydon; but very little
appeared in the account of the interview that had not actually taken
place at the interview itself. Readers of the newspapers were made
fully acquainted with the fact that Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb had
already made a move in the case, and that the invaluable services of
Sir Edward had been retained for the lady, and also that the lady
was living at Overdean Manor House, which chanced to be the
residence of Mr. Wingfield, M.P., and that it was her intention to
remain there for a period that was not defined by the writer. He
refrained from even the suggestion that the period might be “till the
case is decided by the court.”
The remainder of the column was occupied by a pleasant
description of Overdean Manor Park in early August, with a quotation
from the “Highways and Byways” series, and a brief account of the
Wingfield family.
Of course, in addition to these particulars which appeared in most
of the newspapers, the illustrated dailies contained a reproduction of
the recently-used “blocks” of Mr. and Mrs. Wingfield on their now
celebrated election campaign, as well as some entirely new
photographs of the Manor House, and Athalsdean Farm, the
birthplace of “Mrs. Wingfield”—nearly all the newspapers referred to
Priscilla as Mrs. Wingfield, inside quotation marks; but three or four
omitted the quotation marks, and an equal number, who were
sticklers for strict accuracy, called her Mrs. Blaydon, though one of
them half apologised for its accuracy by adding “as we suppose we
must call the unfortunate lady.”
The comments on the romantic features of the case which were to
be read in different type in the columns devoted to the leading
articles, were all of that character which is usually described as
“guarded.” The writers excused their want of definiteness on the
ground that it would be grossly improper for anyone to offer such a
comment as might tend to prejudice a judge or jury in the suits
which would occupy the attention of the law courts during the
Michaelmas sittings. It was quite enough for the writers to point out
some of the remarkable features of the whole romance, beginning
with the arrest of Marcus Blaydon when in the act of leaving the
church where the wedding had taken place—most of the articles
dealt very tenderly with this episode—and going on to refer to the
impression produced on the court by the appeal for mercy to the
judge made by Marcus Blay-don’s counsel on the ground of his
recent marriage to a charming and accomplished girl to whom he
was devoted, and who would certainly suffer far more than the
prisoner himself by his incarceration—an appeal which the judge
admitted had influenced him in pronouncing his very mild sentence
of imprisonment.
These were some of the nasty bits of publicity which Jack
Wingfield had foreseen. Priscilla had reddened a good deal reading
them, but she had not shrunk from their perusal. She accepted
everything as part of the ordeal which she had to face. She even
smiled when, a few days later, there appeared in one of the papers a
letter signed “A Dissatisfied Elector,” affirming that, as the election
for the Nuttingford division had to all intents and purposes been won
for Mr. John Wingfield by a lady who was not his lawful wife, the
seat should be declared vacant.
Jack also smiled—after an interval—and threw the paper into the
basket reserved for such rubbish.
CHAPTER XXXII
A
nd then began the persecution which everyone must expect
who is unfortunate enough to attain to a position of fame or
its modern equivalent, notoriety.
The month was August, and no war worth the salary of a special
correspondent was going on, so the newspapers were only too
pleased to open their columns to the communications of the usual
autumnal faddists, and the greatest of these is the marriage faddist.
“The Curious Case” formed the comprehensive heading to a daily
page in one paper, containing letter after letter, from “A Spinster,”
“One Who Was Deceived,” “Once Bitten Twice Shy,” “True Marriage,”
“I Forbid the Banns,” and the rest of them. Without actually
commenting on the case, these distinguished writers pointed out day
by day how the various points in the curious case of Marcus Blaydon
and Priscilla Wadhurst bore out the various contentions of the
various faddists. Now this would not have mattered so much but for
the fact that it was the most ridiculous of these letters which, after a
column’s advocacy of the principles of free love or some other form
of profligacy, such as the “Spiritual Union,” or the “Soul to Soul”
wedding, invariably wound up by a declaration that “all honour
should be given to that brave little woman, who has thrown in her
lot with the man she loves, to stand or fall by the principles which
she has so fearlessly advocated”—these principles being, of course,
the very principles whose enunciation formed the foundation of the
ridiculous letter.
The most senseless of all these letters was signed “Two Souls with
but a Single Thought;” and the superscription seemed an
appropriate one, for the writers did not seem to have more than a
single thought between them, and this one was erroneous.
Of course, after a time Priscilla became almost reconciled to the
position of being the Topic of the holiday season, though earlier she
found it very hard to bear. At first she had boldly faced the
newspapers; but soon she found that the thought of what she had
read during the day was interfering with her rest at night. She
quickly became aware of the fact that persecution is hydra-headed,
and every heading is in large capitals. She made up her mind that
she would never open another newspaper, and it was as well that
she adhered to this resolution; for after some days the American
organs, as yellow as jaundice and as nasty, began to arrive, and Jack
saw that they were quite dreadful. They commented freely upon the
“case,” being outside the jurisdiction of the English courts, and they
commented largely upon incidents which they themselves had
invented to bear out their own very frankly expressed views
regarding the shameless profligacy of the landed gentry of England,
and the steadily increasing immorality of the English House of
Commons. On the showing of these newspapers, Mr. John Wingfield
was typical of both; he had succeeded in combining the profligacy of
the one with the immorality of the other; and he certainly could not
but admit that the stories of his life which they invented and offered
to their readers, fully bore out their contention, that, if the public life
of the States was a whirlpool, that of England was a cesspool.
It was only natural that the accredited representative of so much
old-world iniquity should feel rather acutely the responsibilities of the
position to which he was assigned; but he had been through the
States more than once and he had also been in the Malay
Archipelago, and had found how closely assimilated were the
offensive elements in the weapons of the two countries. The stinkpot
of the Malays had its equivalent in the Yellow Press of the United
States; but neither of the two did much actual harm to the person
against whom they were directed. If a man has only enough
strength of mind to disregard the stinkpot he does not find himself
greatly demoralised by his experience of its nastiness, and if he only
ignores the “pus” of the Yellow Press no one else will pay any
attention to its discharges.
He burned the papers, having taken care that Priscilla never had a
chance of looking at any one of the batch. He was in no way
Welcome to our website – the ideal destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. With a mission to inspire endlessly, we offer a
vast collection of books, ranging from classic literary works to
specialized publications, self-development books, and children's
literature. Each book is a new journey of discovery, expanding
knowledge and enriching the soul of the reade
Our website is not just a platform for buying books, but a bridge
connecting readers to the timeless values of culture and wisdom. With
an elegant, user-friendly interface and an intelligent search system,
we are committed to providing a quick and convenient shopping
experience. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery
services ensure that you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading.
ebooknice.com