首页 >出版文学> Wessex Tales>第3章

第3章

  ’YouareinterestedinMr。Trewe,Iknow,ma’am,’shesaid;’andhehasjustsenttosaythatheisgoingtocallto-morrowafternoontolookupsomebooksofhisthathewants,ifI’llbein,andhemayselectthemfromyourroom?’
  ’Oyes!’
  ’YoucouldverywellmeetMrTrewethen,ifyou’dliketobeintheway!’
  Shepromisedwithsecretdelight,andwenttobedmusingofhim。
  Nextmorningherhusbandobserved:’I’vebeenthinkingofwhatyousaid,Ell:thatIhavegoneaboutagooddealandleftyouwithoutmuchtoamuseyou。Perhapsit’strue。To-day,asthere’snotmuchsea,I’lltakeyouwithmeonboardtheyacht。’
  ForthefirsttimeinherexperienceofsuchanofferEllawasnotglad。Butsheaccepteditforthemoment。Thetimeforsettingoutdrewnear,andshewenttogetready。Shestoodreflecting。Thelongingtoseethepoetshewasnowdistinctlyinlovewithoverpoweredallotherconsiderations。
  ’Idon’twanttogo,’shesaidtoherself。’Ican’tbeartobeaway!AndIwon’tgo。’
  Shetoldherhusbandthatshehadchangedhermindaboutwishingtosail。Hewasindifferent,andwenthisway。
  Fortherestofthedaythehousewasquiet,thechildrenhavinggoneoutuponthesands。Theblindswavedinthesunshinetothesoft,steadystrokeoftheseabeyondthewall;andthenotesoftheGreenSilesianband,atroopofforeigngentlemenhiredfortheseason,haddrawnalmostalltheresidentsandpromenadersawayfromthevicinityofCoburgHouse。Aknockwasaudibleatthedoor。
  Mrs。Marchmilldidnothearanyservantgotoanswerit,andshebecameimpatient。Thebookswereintheroomwhereshesat;butnobodycameup。Sherangthebell。
  ’Thereissomepersonwaitingatthedoor,’shesaid。
  ’Ono,ma’am!He’sgonelongago。Iansweredit。’
  Mrs。Hoopercameinherself。
  ’Sodisappointing!’shesaid。’Mr。Trewenotcomingafterall!’
  ’ButIheardhimknock,Ifancy!’
  ’No;thatwassomebodyinquiringforlodgingswhocametothewronghouse。IforgottotellyouthatMr。TrewesentanotejustbeforelunchtosayIneedn’tgetanyteaforhim,asheshouldnotrequirethebooks,andwouldn’tcometoselectthem。’
  Ellawasmiserable,andforalongtimecouldnotevenre-readhismournfulballadon’SeveredLives,’soachingwashererraticlittleheart,andsotearfulhereyes。Whenthechildrencameinwithwetstockings,andranuptohertotellheroftheiradventures,shecouldnotfeelthatshecaredaboutthemhalfasmuchasusual。
  ***
  ’Mrs。Hooper,haveyouaphotographof——thegentlemanwholivedhere?’Shewasgettingtobecuriouslyshyinmentioninghisname。
  ’Why,yes。It’sintheornamentalframeonthemantelpieceinyourownbedroom,ma’am。’
  ’No;theRoyalDukeandDuchessareinthat。’
  ’Yes,sotheyare;buthe’sbehindthem。Hebelongsrightlytothatframe,whichIboughtonpurpose;butashewentawayhesaid:
  “Covermeupfromthosestrangersthatarecoming,forGod’ssake。
  Idon’twantthemstaringatme,andIamsuretheywon’twantmestaringatthem。“SoIslippedintheDukeandDuchesstemporarilyinfrontofhim,astheyhadnoframe,andRoyaltiesaremoresuitableforlettingfurnishedthanaprivateyoungman。Ifyoutake’emoutyou’llseehimunder。Lord,ma’am,hewouldn’tmindifheknewit!Hedidn’tthinkthenexttenantwouldbesuchanattractiveladyasyou,orhewouldn’thavethoughtofhidinghimself;perhaps。’
  ’Ishehandsome?’sheaskedtimidly。
  ’_I_callhimso。Some,perhaps,wouldn’t。’
  ’ShouldI?’sheasked,witheagerness。
  ’Ithinkyouwould,thoughsomewouldsayhe’smorestrikingthanhandsome;alarge-eyedthoughtfulfellow,youknow,withaveryelectricflashinhiseyewhenhelooksroundquickly,suchasyou’dexpectapoettobewhodoesn’tgethislivingbyit。’
  ’Howoldishe?’
  ’Severalyearsolderthanyourself,ma’am;aboutthirty-oneortwo,Ithink。’
  Ellawas,asamatteroffact,afewmonthsoverthirtyherself;butshedidnotlooknearlysomuch。Thoughsoimmatureinnature,shewasenteringonthattractoflifeinwhichemotionalwomenbegintosuspectthatlastlovemaybestrongerthanfirstlove;andshewouldsoon,alas,enteronthestillmoremelancholytractwhenatleastthevaineronesofhersexshrinkfromreceivingamalevisitorotherwisethanwiththeirbackstothewindowortheblindshalfdown。ShereflectedonMrs。Hooper’sremark,andsaidnomoreaboutage。
  Justthenatelegramwasbroughtup。Itcamefromherhusband,whohadgonedowntheChannelasfarasBudmouthwithhisfriendsintheyacht,andwouldnotbeabletogetbacktillnextday。
  AfterherlightdinnerEllaidledabouttheshorewiththechildrentilldusk,thinkingoftheyetuncoveredphotographinherroom,withaserenesenseofsomethingecstatictocome。For,withthesubtleluxuriousnessoffancyinwhichthisyoungwomanwasanadept,onlearningthatherhusbandwastobeabsentthatnightshehadrefrainedfromincontinentlyrushingupstairsandopeningthepicture-frame,preferringtoreservetheinspectiontillshecouldbealone,andamoreromantictingebeimpartedtotheoccasionbysilence,candles,solemnseaandstarsoutside,thanwasaffordedbythegarishafternoonsunlight。
  Thechildrenhadbeensenttobed,andEllasoonfollowed,thoughitwasnotyetteno’clock。Togratifyherpassionatecuriosityshenowmadeherpreparations,firstgettingridofsuperfluousgarmentsandputtingonherdressing-gown,thenarrangingachairinfrontofthetableandreadingseveralpagesofTrewe’stenderestutterances。
  Thenshefetchedtheportrait-frametothelight,openedtheback,tookoutthelikeness,andsetitupbeforeher。
  Itwasastrikingcountenancetolookupon。Thepoetworealuxuriantblackmoustacheandimperial,andaslouchedhatwhichshadedtheforehead。Thelargedarkeyes,describedbythelandlady,showedanunlimitedcapacityformisery;theylookedoutfrombeneathwell-shapedbrowsasiftheywerereadingtheuniverseinthemicrocosmoftheconfronter’sface,andwerenotaltogetheroverjoyedatwhatthespectacleportended。
  Ellamurmuredinherlowest,richest,tenderesttone:’Andit’sYOU
  who’vesocruellyeclipsedmethesemanytimes!’
  Asshegazedlongattheportraitshefellintothought,tillhereyesfilledwithtears,andshetouchedthecardboardwithherlips。
  Thenshelaughedwithanervouslightness,andwipedhereyes。
  Shethoughthowwickedshewas,awomanhavingahusbandandthreechildren,tolethermindstraytoastrangerinthisunconscionablemanner。No,hewasnotastranger!Sheknewhisthoughtsandfeelingsaswellassheknewherown;theywere,infact,theself-
  samethoughtsandfeelingsashers,whichherhusbanddistinctlylacked;perhapsluckilyforhimself;consideringthathehadtoprovideforfamilyexpenses。
  ’He’snearermyrealself,he’smoreintimatewiththerealmethanWillis,afterall,eventhoughI’veneverseenhim,’shesaid。
  Shelaidhisbookandpictureonthetableatthebedside,andwhenshewasrecliningonthepillowshere-readthoseofRobertTrewe’sverseswhichshehadmarkedfromtimetotimeasmosttouchingandtrue。Puttingtheseaside,shesetupthephotographonitsedgeuponthecoverlet,andcontemplateditasshelay。Thenshescannedagainbythelightofthecandlethehalf-obliteratedpencillingsonthewall-paperbesideherhead。Theretheywere——phrases,couplets,bouts-rimes,beginningsandmiddlesoflines,ideasintherough,likeShelley’sscraps,andtheleastofthemsointense,sosweet,sopalpitating,thatitseemedasifhisverybreath,warmandloving,fannedhercheeksfromthosewalls,wallsthathadsurroundedhisheadtimesandtimesastheysurroundedherownnow。
  Hemustoftenhaveputuphishandso——withthepencilinit。Yes,thewritingwassideways,asitwouldbeifexecutedbyonewhoextendedhisarmthus。
  Theseinscribedshapesofthepoet’sworld,’Formsmorerealthanlivingman,Nurslingsofimmortality,’
  were,nodoubt,thethoughtsandspirit-strivingswhichhadcometohiminthedeadofnight,whenhecouldlethimselfgoandhavenofearofthefrostofcriticism。Nodoubttheyhadoftenbeenwrittenuphastilybythelightofthemoon,theraysofthelamp,intheblue-greydawn,infulldaylightperhapsnever。Andnowherhairwasdraggingwherehisarmhadlainwhenhesecuredthefugitivefancies;shewassleepingonapoet’slips,immersedintheveryessenceofhim,permeatedbyhisspiritasbyanether。
  Whileshewasdreamingtheminutesawaythus,afootstepcameuponthestairs,andinamomentsheheardherhusband’sheavysteponthelandingimmediatelywithout。
  ’Ell,whereareyou?’
  Whatpossessedhershecouldnothavedescribed,but,withaninstinctiveobjectiontoletherhusbandknowwhatshehadbeendoing,sheslippedthephotographunderthepillowjustasheflungopenthedoor,withtheairofamanwhohaddinednotbadly。
  ’O,Ibegpardon,’saidWilliamMarchmill。’Haveyouaheadache?I
  amafraidIhavedisturbedyou。’
  ’No,I’venotgotaheadache,’saidshe。’Howisityou’vecome?’
  ’Well,wefoundwecouldgetbackinverygoodtimeafterall,andI
  didn’twanttomakeanotherdayofit,becauseofgoingsomewhereelseto-morrow。’
  ’ShallIcomedownagain?’