She went down trembling. As soon as she entered, Sir Christopher, who was seated near his writing-table, said, ‘Now, little monkey, come and sit down by me; I have something to tell you.’
Caterina took a footstool, and seated herself on it at the Baronet’s feet. It was her habit to sit on these low stools, and in this way she could hide her face better. She put her little arm round his leg, and leaned her cheek against his knee.
‘Why, you seem out of spirits this morning, Tina. What’s the matter, eh?’
‘Nothing, Padroncello; only my head is bad.’
‘Poor monkey! Well, now, wouldn’t it do the head good if I were to promise you a good husband, and smart little wedding-gowns, and by-and-by a house of your own, where you would be a little mistress, and Padroncello would come and see you sometimes?’
‘O no, no! I shouldn’t like ever to be married. Let me always stay with you!’
‘Pooh, pooh, little simpleton. I shall get old and tiresome4, and there will be Anthony’s children putting your nose out of joint5. You will want some one to love you best of all, and you must have children of your own to love. I can’t have you withering6 away into an old maid. I hate old maids: they make me dismal7 to look at them. I never see Sharp without shuddering8. My little black-eyed monkey was never meant for anything so ugly. And there’s Maynard Gilfil the best man in the county, worth his weight in gold, heavy as he is; he loves you better than his eyes. And you love him too, you silly monkey, whatever you may say about not being married.’
‘No, no, dear Padroncello, do not say so; I could not marry him.’
‘Why not, you foolish child? You don’t know your own mind. Why, it is plain to everybody that you love him. My lady has all along said she was sure you loved him — she has seen what little princess airs you put on to him; and Anthony too, he thinks you are in love with Gilfil. Come, what has made you take it into your head that you wouldn’t like to marry him?’
Caterina was now sobbing9 too deeply to make any answer. Sir Christopher patted her on the back and said, ‘Come, come; why, Tina, you are not well this morning. Go and rest, little one. You will see things in quite another light when you are well. Think over what I have said, and remember there is nothing, after Anthony’s marriage, that I have set my heart on so much as seeing you and Maynard settled for life. I must have no whims10 and follies11 — no nonsense.’ This was said with a slight severity; but he presently added, in a soothing12 tone, There, there, stop crying, and be a good little monkey. Go and lie down and get to sleep.’
Caterina slipped from the stool on to her knees, took the old Baronet’s hand, covered it with tears and kisses, and then ran out of the room.
Before the evening, Captain Wybrow had heard from his uncle the result of the interview with Caterina. He thought, ‘If I could have a long quiet talk with her, I could perhaps persuade her to look more reasonably at things. But there’s no speaking to her in the house without being interrupted, and I can hardly see her anywhere else without Beatrice’s finding it out.’ At last he determined13 to make it a matter of confidence with Miss Assher — to tell her that he wished to talk to Caterina quietly for the sake of bringing her to a calmer state of mind, and persuade her to listen to Gilfil’s affection. He was very much pleased with this judicious14 and candid15 plan, and in the course of the evening he had arranged with himself the time and place of meeting, and had communicated his purpose to Miss Assher, who gave her entire approval. Anthony, she thought, would do well to speak plainly and seriously to Miss Sarti. He was really very patient and kind to her, considering how she behaved.
Tina had kept her room all that day, and had been carefully tended as an invalid16, Sir Christopher having told her ladyship how matters stood. This tendance was so irksome to Caterina, she felt so uneasy under attentions and kindness that were based on a misconception, that she exerted herself to appear at breakfast the next morning, and declared herself well, though head and heart were throbbing17. To be confined in her own room was intolerable; it was wretched enough to be looked at and spoken to, but it was more wretched to be left alone. She was frightened at her own sensations: she was frightened at the imperious vividness with which pictures of the past and future thrust themselves on her imagination. And there was another feeling, too, which made her want to be down-stairs and moving about. Perhaps she might have an opportunity of speaking to Captain Wybrow alone — of speaking those words of hatred18 and scorn that burned on her tongue. That opportunity offered itself in a very unexpected manner.
Lady Cheverel having sent Caterina out of the drawing-room to fetch some patterns of embroidery19 from her sitting-room, Captain Wybrow presently walked out after her, and met her as she was returning down stairs.
‘Caterina,’ he said, laying his hand on her arm as she was hurrying on without looking at him, ‘will you meet me in the Rookery at twelve o’clock? I must speak to you, and we shall be in privacy there. I cannot speak to you in the house.’
To his surprise, there was a flash of pleasure across her face; she answered shortly and decidedly, ‘Yes’, then snatched her arm away from him, and passed down stairs.
Miss Assher was this morning busy winding21 silks, being bent22 on emulating23 Lady Cheverel’s embroidery, and Lady Assher chose the passive amusement of holding the skeins. Lady Cheverel had now all her working apparatus24 about her, and Caterina, thinking she was not wanted, went away and sat down to the harpsichord25 in the sitting-room. It seemed as if playing massive chords — bringing out volumes of sound, would be the easiest way of passing the long feverish26 moments before twelve o’clock. Handel’s Messiah stood open on the desk, at the chorus ‘All we like sheep’, and Caterina threw herself at once into the impetuous intricacies of that magnificent fugue. In her happiest moments she could never have played it so well: for now all the passion that made her misery27 was hurled28 by a convulsive effort into her music, just as pain gives new force to the clutch of the sinking wrestler29, and as terror gives farsounding intensity30 to the shriek31 of the feeble.
But at half-past eleven she was interrupted by Lady Cheverel, who said, ‘Tina, go down, will you, and hold Miss Assher’s silks for her. Lady Assher and I have decided20 on having our drive before luncheon32.’
Caterina went down, wondering how she should escape from the drawing-room in time to be in the Rookery at twelve. Nothing should prevent her from going; nothing should rob her of this one precious moment — perhaps the last — when she could speak out the thoughts that were in her. After that, she would be passive; she would bear anything.
But she had scarcely sat down with a skein of yellow silk on her hands, when Miss Assher said, graciously — ‘I know you have an engagement with Captain Wybrow this morning. You must not let me detain you beyond the time.’
‘So he has been talking to her about me,’ thought Caterina. Her hands began to tremble as she held the skein.
Miss Assher continued in the same gracious tone: ‘It is tedious work holding these skeins. I am sure I am very much obliged to you.’
‘No, you are not obliged to me,’ said Caterina, completely mastered by her irritation33; ‘I have only done it because Lady Cheverel told me.’
The moment was come when Miss Assher could no longer suppress her long latent desire to ‘let Miss Sarti know the impropriety of her conduct.’ With the malicious34 anger that assumes the tone of compassion35, she said, —‘Miss Sarti, I am really sorry for you, that you are not able to control yourself better. This giving way to unwarrantable feelings is lowering you — it is indeed.’
‘What unwarrantable feelings?’ said Caterina, letting her hands fall, and fixing her great dark eyes steadily36 on Miss Assher. ‘It is quite unnecessary for me to say more. You must be conscious what I mean. Only summon a sense of duty to your aid. You are paining Captain Wybrow extremely by your want of self-control.’
‘Did he tell you I pained him?’
‘Yes, indeed, he did. He is very much hurt that you should behave to me as if you had a sort of enmity towards me. He would like you to make a friend of me. I assure you we both feel very kindly37 towards you, and are sorry you should cherish such feelings.’
‘He is very good,’ said Caterina, bitterly. ‘What feelings did he say I cherished?’
This bitter tone increased Miss Assher’s irritation. There was still a lurking38 suspicion in her mind, though she would not admit it to herself, that Captain Wybrow had told her a falsehood about his conduct and feelings towards Caterina. It was this suspicion, more even than the anger of the moment, which urged her to say something that would test the truth of his statement. That she would be humiliating Caterina at the same time, was only an additional temptation.
‘These are things I do not like to talk of, Miss Sarti. I cannot even understand how a woman can indulge a passion for a man who has never given her the least ground for it, as Captain Wybrow assures me is the case.’
‘He told you that, did he?’ said Caterina, in clear low tones, her lips turning white as she rose from her chair.
‘Yes, indeed, he did. He was bound to tell it me after your strange behaviour.’
Caterina said nothing, but turned round suddenly and left the room.
See how she rushes noiselessly, like a pale meteor, along the passages and up the gallery stairs! Those gleaming eyes, those bloodless lips, that swift silent tread, make her look like the incarnation of a fierce purpose, rather than a woman. The mid-day sun is shining on the armour39 in the gallery, making mimic40 suns on bossed sword-hilts and the angles of polished breast-plates. Yes, there are sharp weapons in the gallery. There is a dagger41 in that cabinet; she knows it well. And as a dragon-fly wheels in its flight to alight for an instant on a leaf, she darts42 to the cabinet, takes out the dagger, and thrusts it into her pocket. In three minutes more she is out, in hat and cloak, on the gravel-walk, hurrying along towards the thick shades of the distant Rookery. She threads the windings43 of the plantations44, not feeling the golden leaves that rain upon her, not feeling the earth beneath her feet. Her hand is in her pocket, clenching45 the handle of the dagger, which she holds half out of its sheath.
She has reached the Rookery, and is under the gloom of the interlacing boughs46. Her heart throbs47 as if it would burst her bosom48 — as if every next leap must be its last. Wait, wait, O heart! — till she has done this one deed. He will be there — he will be before her in a moment. He will come towards her with that false smile, thinking she does not know his baseness — she will plunge49 that dagger into his heart.
Poor child! poor child! she who used to cry to have the fish put back into the water — who never willingly killed the smallest living thing — dreams now, in the madness of her passion, that she can kill the man whose very voice unnerves her.
But what is that lying among the dank leaves on the path three yards before her?
Good God! it is he — lying motionless — his hat fallen off. He is ill, then — he has fainted. Her hand lets go the dagger, and she rushes towards him. His eyes are fixed50; he does not see her. She sinks down on her knees, takes the dear head in her arms, and kisses the cold forehead.
‘Anthony, Anthony! speak to me — it is Tina — speak to me! O God, he is dead!’
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1
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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emulating
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| v.与…竞争( emulate的现在分词 )；努力赶上；计算机程序等仿真；模仿 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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harpsichord
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| n.键琴（钢琴前身） | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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wrestler
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| n.摔角选手，扭 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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42
darts
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| n.掷飞镖游戏；飞镖( dart的名词复数 )；急驰，飞奔v.投掷，投射( dart的第三人称单数 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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43
windings
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| （道路、河流等）蜿蜒的，弯曲的( winding的名词复数 )； 缠绕( wind的现在分词 )； 卷绕； 转动（把手） | |
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44
plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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45
clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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46
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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47
throbs
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| 体内的跳动( throb的名词复数 ) | |
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48
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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49
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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50
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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