A Likely Story

In Short

This novel is a whimsical, layered blend of domestic comedy and historical fantasy set in turn-of-the-century London. The narrative follows Reginald Aiken, a clumsy but well-meaning artist, and his wife, Euphemia, whose marriage frays over a trivial misunderstanding. Their lives are strangely intertwined with an "Early Italian" portrait that possesses the ability to recount its own four-hundred-year-old history. Through a series of shifting perspectives—ranging from the painter’s struggle in a Renaissance castle to a soldier’s survival in the Boer War—the book explores the endurance of love across centuries.

The Story

The story begins with a domestic crisis. Reginald Aiken and his wife, Euphemia, find their relationship brittle and prone to squabbles. When Reginald encounters a young housemaid in his studio and accidentally creates an incriminating situation, his wife flees to her formidable Aunt Priscilla at Athabasca Villa. The misunderstanding festers, fueled by pride and the absence of clear communication, leaving the couple to endure months of separation.

Parallel to this modern friction, the narrative focuses on a mysterious, antique portrait that Reginald has been tasked to restore. In a dreamlike turn, the portrait begins to speak to Mr. Pelly, a gentleman in whose library it resides. The painting recounts its origins in a Renaissance Italian castle, where it was commissioned by a jealous, elderly Duke as a portrait of his young wife, Maddalena. The artist, Giacinto, falls in love with the girl, and the painting becomes a silent witness to their longing, the Duke’s sinister machinations, and the eventual escape of the young lovers. The portrait’s tale is one of danger, poisonings, and the heavy weight of secrets kept in the dark of forgotten rooms.

As the narrative moves back to the present, the two threads begin to converge. Madeline Upwell, a spirited young woman, and her soldier fiancé, Captain Jack Calverley, face their own trials. When war breaks out in Africa, Jack disappears, and Madeline must navigate the agonizing uncertainty of his fate. The confusion is compounded by letters intercepted by a jealous rival, mirroring the communication failures that plague the Aikens.

In the final movements, the various knots are untied. The portrait’s history provides a thematic mirror to the modern characters, suggesting that the patterns of human jealousy and devotion remain remarkably consistent through the ages. Jack eventually returns from his ordeal, having survived the battlefield and his own entanglement with a woman who sought to keep him from Madeline. Similarly, the Aikens, humbled by their long separation and the absurdity of their pride, finally find a path back to one another. The resolution is not a grand, dramatic climax, but a quiet return to normalcy, marked by the realization that life is fragile and that the "little caresses" of human connection are more meaningful than any historical mystery or personal grievance.

How It Unfolds

The domestic tangle Reginald and Euphemia’s marriage hits a breaking point after a misunderstanding in his studio involving a housemaid. Euphemia retreats to her aunt’s home, setting the stage for a long, prideful separation.

The waking dream Mr. Pelly, alone in his library with the antique portrait, falls into a deep sleep and hears the voice of the painting. It begins to recount its life as a Renaissance portrait commissioned by a suspicious Duke.

The Renaissance tragedy The painting describes the illicit love between the artist Giacinto and the young Maddalena. It captures the atmosphere of the Italian court, including palace intrigue, the threat of death, and the eventual escape of the innamorati.

The modern crisis The story shifts to Madeline Upwell and her soldier, Jack, whose relationship is tested by war and deceptive correspondence. Madeline suffers through the uncertainty of Jack’s disappearance in the African conflict.

The reconciliation The narratives weave together as Jack reappears, explaining his survival and the circumstances of his absence. Simultaneously, the Aikens are forced to confront their own stubbornness and the emptiness of living apart.

The People

Reginald Aiken is an artist who is talented but perpetually struggling with his own "Jugginshood"—his tendency to act foolishly and then compound that folly with defensive pride. His wife, Euphemia, is equally prone to taking offense, though she is anchored by her rigid, judgmental Aunt Priscilla. Priscilla serves as the comedic antagonist to the marriage, representing the suffocating influence of tradition and social propriety.

Madeline Upwell acts as a foil to Euphemia; she is vibrant, forward-thinking, and deeply devoted to Captain Jack Calverley. Jack is a man of action who finds himself caught in a web of international conflict and romantic misunderstanding, ultimately emerging as someone who has been sobered by the realities of war. The portrait itself functions as a character—a witness to the past that possesses a keen, if somewhat cynical, understanding of human nature. These figures are not static; they are shaped by their experiences with loss, time, and the eventual realization that holding onto resentment is a poor substitute for the happiness they have forfeited.

In Its Own Voice

The loquacity of a picture, and how he pointed out to it its unreality.

This line, from the second chapter, introduces the central fantasy element as Mr. Pelly attempts to reason with the speaking portrait.

The laugh that you see on my lips is Maddalena's as she sat looking down on her young painter, and the joy and content of my eyes are her joy and content.

In this passage, the portrait describes its own creation, revealing how the artist infused the painting with the emotions of the young girl he loved.

The usual war-whoops from sheltered corners, safe out of gunshot; and the usual deaths by scores of men on both sides who never felt a pang of ill-feeling to each other.

This reflection on the nature of war, found in the fourth chapter, highlights the author’s critique of the disconnect between those who start conflicts and those who suffer in them.

What It's Really About

The book is a meditation on the persistence of the human spirit across time. It argues that the fundamental dramas of life—jealousy, the fear of losing a loved one, and the pride that keeps us from reconciliation—are universal. By juxtaposing a Renaissance romance with a turn-of-the-century domestic dispute, the narrative suggests that we are all merely actors in a recurring play of human emotion. The central question is whether we can learn from the "ghosts" of the past to improve our present, or if we are doomed to repeat the same petty misunderstandings. Ultimately, it emphasizes that truth and connection are fragile, requiring both humility and the ability to forgive, regardless of the era in which one lives.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the gentle, meandering style of Victorian and Edwardian literature will find this a rewarding experience. The book feels like a long, fireside conversation, characterized by a warmth that balances its occasionally sharp observations on social hypocrisy. It is a dense, conversational work that expects the reader to keep pace with its shifting timelines and frequent authorial asides.

The modern reader should be aware that the book bears the marks of its time; the Victorian attitudes toward class, gender, and the "proper" behavior of women are pervasive and may feel restrictive. Additionally, the inclusion of period-specific dialect and occasional Italian phrases requires a bit of patience. However, the reward for this effort is a deeply human story that captures the texture of life—from the triviality of a household jar to the profound weight of a war-torn world. What stays with you is the sense that the author sees the absurdity in everything, yet remains committed to the idea that love, if given a chance, is a force that can bridge even the widest gaps of time and pride. It is a quiet, thoughtful, and often humorous companion for those who enjoy stories that refuse to be categorized by genre alone.