首页 >出版文学> Indian Summer of a Forsyte>第7章
  allthathadmadethatwealth;goingtoleaveher,too,apartofallhehadmissedinlife,byhissaneandsteadypursuitofwealth。All!Whathadhemissed?’DutchFishingBoats’respondedblankly;hecrossedtotheFrenchwindow,anddrawingthecurtainaside,openedit。Awindhadgotup,andoneoflastyear’soakleaveswhichhadsomehowsurvivedthegardener’sbrooms,wasdraggingitselfwithatinyclickingrustlealongthestoneterraceinthetwilight。Exceptforthatitwasveryquietoutthere,andhecouldsmelltheheliotropewaterednotlongsince。Abatwentby。Abirduttereditslast’cheep。’Andrightabovetheoaktreethefirststarshone。Faustintheoperahadbarteredhissoulforsomefreshyearsofyouth。Morbidnotion!Nosuchbargainwaspossible,thatwasrealtragedy!Nomakingoneselfnewagainforloveorlifeoranything。Nothinglefttodobutenjoybeautyfromafaroffwhileyoucould,andleaveitsomethinginyourWill。Buthowmuch?And,asifhecouldnotmakethatcalculationlookingoutintothemildfreedomofthecountrynight,heturnedbackandwentuptothechimney-piece。Therewerehispetbronzes——aCleopatrawiththeaspatherbreast;aSocrates;agreyhoundplayingwithherpuppy;astrongmanreininginsomehorses。’Theylast!’hethought,andapangwentthroughhisheart。Theyhadathousandyearsoflifebeforethem!
  ’Howmuch?’Well!enoughatalleventstosavehergettingoldbeforehertime,tokeepthelinesoutofherfaceaslongaspossible,andgreyfromsoilingthatbrighthair。Hemightliveanotherfiveyears。Shewouldbewelloverthirtybythen。’Howmuch?’Shehadnoneofhisbloodinher!Inloyaltytothetenorofhislifeforfortyyearsandmore,eversincehemarriedandfoundedthatmysteriousthing,afamily,camethiswarningthought——
  Noneofhisblood,norighttoanything!Itwasaluxurythen,thisnotion。Anextravagance,apettingofanoldman’swhim,oneofthosethingsdoneindotage。Hisrealfuturewasvestedinthosewhohadhisblood,inwhomhewouldliveonwhenhewasgone。
  Heturnedawayfromthebronzesandstoodlookingattheoldleatherchairinwhichhehadsatandsmokedsomanyhundredsofcigars。Andsuddenlyheseemedtoseehersittingthereinhergreydress,fragrant,soft,dark-eyed,graceful,lookingupathim。
  Why!Shecarednothingforhim,really;allshecaredforwasthatlostloverofhers。Butshewasthere,whethershewouldorno,givinghimpleasurewithherbeautyandgrace。Onehadnorighttoinflictanoldman’scompany,norighttoaskherdowntoplaytohimandlethimlookather——fornoreward!Pleasuremustbepaidforinthisworld。’Howmuch?’Afterall,therewasplenty;hissonandhisthreegrandchildrenwouldnevermissthatlittlelump。
  Hehadmadeithimself,nearlyeverypenny;hecouldleaveitwhereheliked,allowhimselfthislittlepleasure。Hewentbacktothebureau。’Well,I’mgoingto,’hethought,’letthemthinkwhattheylike。I’mgoingto!’Andhesatdown。
  ’Howmuch?’Tenthousand,twentythousand——howmuch?Ifonlywithhismoneyhecouldbuyoneyear,onemonthofyouth。Andstartledbythatthought,hewrotequickly:
  ’DEARHERRING,——Drawmeacodiciltothiseffect:”IleavetomynieceIreneForsyte,bornIreneHeron,bywhichnameshenowgoes,fifteenthousandpoundsfreeoflegacyduty。”
  ’Yoursfaithfully,’JOLYONFORSYTE。’
  Whenhehadsealedandstampedtheenvelope,hewentbacktothewindowanddrewinalongbreath。Itwasdark,butmanystarsshonenow。
  IV
  Hewokeathalf-pasttwo,anhourwhichlongexperiencehadtaughthimbringspanicintensitytoallawkwardthoughts。Experiencehadalsotaughthimthatafurtherwakingattheproperhourofeightshowedthefollyofsuchpanic。Onthisparticularmorningthethoughtwhichgatheredrapidmomentumwasthatifhebecameill,athisagenotimprobable,hewouldnotseeher。Fromthisitwasbutasteptorealisationthathewouldbecutoff,too,whenhissonandJunereturnedfromSpain。Howcouldhejustifydesireforthecompanyofonewhohadstolen——earlymorningdoesnotmincewords——
  June’slover?Thatloverwasdead;butJunewasastubbornlittlething;warm-hearted,butstubbornaswood,and——quitetrue——notonewhoforgot!Bythemiddleofnextmonththeywouldbeback。Hehadbarelyfiveweekslefttoenjoythenewinterestwhichhadcomeintowhatremainedofhislife。Darknessshoweduptohimabsurdlyclearthenatureofhisfeeling。Admirationforbeauty——acravingtoseethatwhichdelightedhiseyes。
  Preposterous,athisage!Andyet——whatotherreasonwasthereforaskingJunetoundergosuchpainfulreminder,andhowpreventhissonandhisson’swifefromthinkinghimveryqueer?HewouldbereducedtosneakinguptoLondon,whichtiredhim;andtheleastindispositionwouldcuthimoffevenfromthat。Helaywitheyesopen,settinghisjawagainsttheprospect,andcallinghimselfanoldfool,whilehisheartbeatloudly,andthenseemedtostopbeatingaltogether。Hehadseenthedawnlightingthewindowchinks,heardthebirdschirpandtwitter,andthecockscrow,beforehefellasleepagain,andawoketiredbutsane。Fiveweeksbeforeheneedbother,athisageaneternity!Butthatearlymorningpanichadleftitsmark,hadslightlyfeveredthewillofonewhohadalwayshadhisownway。Hewouldseeherasoftenashewished!Whynotgouptotownandmakethatcodicilathissolicitor’sinsteadofwritingaboutit;shemightliketogototheopera!But,bytrain,forhewouldnothavethatfatchapBeacongrinningbehindhisback。Servantsweresuchfools;and,aslikelyasnot,theyhadknownallthepasthistoryofIreneandyoungBosinney——servantskneweverything,andsuspectedtherest。
  Hewrotetoherthatmorning:”MYDEARIRENE,——Ihavetobeupintownto-morrow。Ifyouwouldliketohavealookinattheopera,comeanddinewithmequietly……”
  Butwhere?ItwasdecadessincehehaddinedanywhereinLondonsaveathisCluborataprivatehouse。Ah!thatnew-fangledplaceclosetoCoventGarden……”Letmehavealineto-morrowmorningtothePiedmontHotelwhethertoexpectyouthereat7o’clock。””Yoursaffectionately,”JOLYONFORSYTE。”
  Shewouldunderstandthathejustwantedtogiveheralittlepleasure;fortheideathatsheshouldguesshehadthisitchtoseeherwasinstinctivelyunpleasanttohim;itwasnotseemlythatonesooldshouldgooutofhiswaytoseebeauty,especiallyinawoman。
  Thejourneynextday,shortthoughitwas,andthevisittohislawyer’s,tiredhim。Itwashottoo,andafterdressingfordinnerhelaydownonthesofainhisbedroomtorestalittle。Hemusthavehadasortoffaintingfit,forhecametohimselffeelingveryqueer;andwithsomedifficultyroseandrangthebell。Why!
  itwaspastseven!Andtherehewasandshewouldbewaiting。Butsuddenlythedizzinesscameonagain,andhewasobligedtorelapseonthesofa。Heheardthemaid’svoicesay:”Didyouring,sir?””Yes,comehere”;hecouldnotseeherclearly,forthecloudinfrontofhiseyes。”I’mnotwell,Iwantsomesalvolatile。””Yes,sir。”Hervoicesoundedfrightened。
  OldJolyonmadeaneffort。”Don’tgo。Takethismessagetomyniece——aladywaitinginthehall——aladyingrey。SayMr。Forsyteisnotwell——theheat。Heisverysorry;ifheisnotdowndirectly,sheisnottowaitdinner。”
  Whenshewasgone,hethoughtfeebly:’WhydidIsayaladyingrey——shemaybeinanything。Salvolatile!’Hedidnotgooffagain,yetwasnotconsciousofhowIrenecametobestandingbesidehim,holdingsmellingsaltstohisnose,andpushingapillowupbehindhishead。Heheardhersayanxiously:”DearUncleJolyon,whatisit?”wasdimlyconsciousofthesoftpressureofherlipsonhishand;thendrewalongbreathofsmellingsalts,suddenlydiscoveredstrengthinthem,andsneezed。”Ha!”hesaid,”it’snothing。Howdidyougethere?Godownanddine——theticketsareonthedressing-table。Ishallbeallrightinaminute。”
  Hefelthercoolhandonhisforehead,smelledviolets,andsatdividedbetweenasortofpleasureandadeterminationtobeallright。”Why!Youareingrey!”hesaid。”Helpmeup。”Onceonhisfeethegavehimselfashake。”WhatbusinesshadItogoofflikethat!”Andhemovedveryslowlytotheglass。Whatacadaverouschap!Hervoice,behindhim,murmured:”Youmustn’tcomedown,Uncle;youmustrest。””Fiddlesticks!Aglassofchampagne’llsoonsetmetorights。I
  can’thaveyoumissingtheopera。”
  Butthejourneydownthecorridorwastroublesome。Whatcarpetstheyhadinthesenewfangledplaces,sothickthatyoutrippedupinthemateverystep!Inthelifthenoticedhowconcernedshelooked,andsaidwiththeghostofatwinkle:”I’maprettyhost。”
  Whentheliftstoppedhehadtoholdfirmlytotheseattopreventitsslippingunderhim;butaftersoupandaglassofchampagnehefeltmuchbetter,andbegantoenjoyaninfirmitywhichhadbroughtsuchsolicitudeintohermannertowardshim。”Ishouldhavelikedyouforadaughter,”hesaidsuddenly;andwatchingthesmileinhereyes,wenton:”Youmustn’tgetwrappedupinthepastatyourtimeoflife;
  plentyofthatwhenyougettomyage。That’sanicedress——Ilikethestyle。””Imadeitmyself。”
  Ah!Awomanwhocouldmakeherselfaprettyfrockhadnotlostherinterestinlife。”Makehaywhilethesunshines,”hesaid;”anddrinkthatup。I
  wanttoseesomecolourinyourcheeks。Wemustn’twastelife;itdoesn’tdo。There’sanewMargueriteto-night;let’shopeshewon’tbefat。AndMephisto——anythingmoredreadfulthanafatchapplayingtheDevilIcan’timagine。”