“I dare say not!”— Lord Theign, flushed with the felicity of self-expression, made little of that. “But he goes too far, you see, and it clears the air — pouah! Now therefore”— and he glanced at the clock —“I must go to Kitty.”
“Kitty — with what Kitty wants,” Lady Sandgate opined —“won’t thank you for that!”
“She never thanks me for anything”— and the fact of his resignation clearly added here to his bitterness. “So it’s no great loss!”
“Won’t you at any rate,” his hostess asked, “wait for Bender?”
His lordship cast it to the winds. “What have I to do with him now?”
“Why surely if he’ll accept your own price —!”
Lord Theign thought — he wondered; and then as if fairly amused at himself: “Hanged if I know what is my own price!” After which he went for his hat. “But there’s one thing,” he remembered as he came back with it: “where’s my too, too unnatural1 daughter?”
“If you mean Grace and really want her I’ll send and find out.”
“Not now”— he bethought himself. “But does she see that chatterbox?”
“Mr. Crimble? Yes, she sees him.”
He kept his eyes on her. “Then how far has it gone?”
Lady Sandgate overcame an embarrassment2. “Well, not even yet, I think, so far as they’d like.”
“They’d ‘like’— heaven save the mark! — to marry?”
“I suspect them of it. What line, if it should come to that,” she asked, “would you then take?”
He was perfectly3 prompt. “The line that for Grace it’s simply ignoble4.”
The force of her deprecation of such language was qualified5 by tact6. “Ah, darling, as dreadful as that?”
He could but view the possibility with dark resentment7. “It lets us so down — from what we’ve always been and done; so down, down, down that I’m amazed you don’t feel it!”
“Oh, I feel there’s still plenty to keep you up!” she soothingly8 laughed.
He seemed to consider this vague amount — which he apparently9 judged, however, not so vast as to provide for the whole yearning10 of his nature. “Well, my dear,” he thus more blandly11 professed12, “I shall need all the extra agrément that your affection can supply.”
If nothing could have been, on this, richer response, nothing could at the same time have bee more pleasing than her modesty13. “Ah, my affectionate Theign, is, as I think you know, a fountain always in flood; but in any more worldly element than that — as you’ve ever seen for yourself — a poor strand14 with my own sad affairs, a broken reed; not ‘great’ as they used so finely to call it! You are — with the natural sense of greatness and, for supreme15 support, the instinctive16 grand man doing and taking things.”
He sighed, none the less, he groaned18, with his thoughts of trouble, for the strain he foresaw on these resolutions. “If you mean that I hold up my head, on higher grounds, I grant that I always have. But how much longer possible when my children commit such vulgarities? Why in the name of goodness are such children? What the devil has got into them, and is it really the case that when Grace offers as a proof of her license19 and a specimen20 of her taste a son-inlaw as you tell me I’m in danger of helplessly to swallow the dose?”
“Do you find Mr. Crimble,” Lady Sandgate as if there might really be something to say, “so utterly21 out of the question?”
“I found him on the two occasions before I went away in the last degree offensive and outrageous22; but even if he charged one and one’s poor dear decent old defences with less rabid a fury everything about him would forbid that kind of relation.”
What kind of relation, if any, Hugh’s deficiencies might still render thinkable Lord Theign was kept from going on to mention by the voice of Mr. Gotch, who had thrown open the door to the not altogether assured sound of “Mr. Breckenridge Bender.” The guest in possession gave a cry of impatience23, but Lady Sandgate said “Coming up?”
“If his lordship will see him.”
“Oh, he’s beyond his time,” his lordship pronounced —“I can’t see him now!”
“Ah, but mustn’t you — and mayn’t I then?” She waited, however, for no response to signify to her servant “Let him come,” and her companion could but exhale24 a groan17 of reluctant accommodation as if he wondered at the point she made of it. It enlightened him indeed perhaps a little that she went on while Gotch did her bidding. “Does the kind of relation you’d be condemned25 to with Mr. Crimble let you down, down, down, as you say, more than the relation you’ve been having with Mr. Bender?”
Lord Theign had for it the most uninforming of stares. “Do you mean don’t I hate ’em equally both?”
She cut his further reply short, however, by a “Hush!” of warning — Mr. Bender was there and his introducer had left them.
Lord Theign, full of his purpose of departure, sacrificed hereupon little to ceremony. “I’ve but a moment, to my regret, to give you, Mr. Bender, and if you’ve been unavoidably detained, as you great bustling26 people are so apt to be, it will perhaps still be soon enough for your comfort to hear from me that I’ve just given order to close our exhibition. From the present hour on, sir”— he put it with the firmness required to settle the futility27 of an appeal.
Mr. Bender’s large surprise lost itself, however, promptly28 enough, in Mr. Bender’s larger ease. “Why, do you really mean it, Lord Theign? — removing already from view a work that gives innocent gratification to thousands?”
“Well,” said his lordship curtly29, “if thousands have seen it I’ve done what I wanted, and if they’ve been gratified I’m content — and invite you to be.”
Mr. Bender showed more keenness for this richer implication. “In other words it’s I who may remove the picture?”
“Well — if you’ll take it on my estimate.”
“But what, Lord Theign, all this time,” Mr. Bender almost pathetically pleaded, “is your estimate?”
The parting guest had another pause, which prolonged itself, after he had reached the door, in a deep solicitation30 of their hostess’s conscious eyes. This brief passage apparently inspired his answer. “Lady Sandgate will tell you.” The door closed behind him.
The charming woman smiled then at her other friend, whose comprehensive presence appeared now to demand of her some account of these strange proceedings31. “He means that your own valuation is much too shockingly high.”
“But how can I know how much unless I find out what he’ll take?” The great collector’s spirit had, in spite of its volume, clearly not reached its limit of expansion. “Is he crazily waiting for the thing to be proved not what Mr. Crimble claims?”
“No, he’s waiting for nothing — since he holds that claim demolished32 by Pappendick’s tremendous negative, which you wrote to tell him of.”
Vast, undeveloped and suddenly grave, Mr. Bender’s countenance33 showed like a barren tract34 under a black cloud. “I wrote to report, fair and square, on Pap-pendick, but to tell him I’d take the picture just the same, negative and all.”
“Ah, but take it in that way not for what it is but for what it isn’t.”
“We know nothing about what it ‘isn’t,’” said Mr. Bender, “after all that has happened — we’ve only learned a little better every day what it is.”
“You mean,” his companion asked, “the biggest bone of artistic35 contention36 ——?”
“Yes,”— he took it from her —“the biggest that has been thrown into the arena37 for quite a while. I guess I can do with it for that.”
Lady Sandgate, on this, after a moment, renewed her personal advance; it was as if she had now made sure of the soundness of her main bridge. “Well, if it’s the biggest bone I won’t touch it; I’ll leave it to be mauled by my betters. But since his lordship has asked me to name a price, dear Mr. Bender, I’ll name one — and as you prefer big prices I’ll try to make it suit you. Only it won’t be for the portrait of a person nobody is agreed about. The whole world is agreed, you know, about my great-grandmother.”
“Oh, shucks, Lady Sandgate!”— and her visitor turned from her with the hunch38 of overcharged shoulders.
But she apparently felt that she held him, or at least that even if such a conviction might be fatuous39 she must now put it to the touch. “You’ve been delivered into my hands — too charmingly; and you won’t really pretend that you don’t recognise that and in fact rather like it.”
He faced about to her again as to a case of coolness unparalleled — though indeed with a quick lapse40 of real interest in the question of whether he had been artfully practised upon; an indifference41 to bad debts or peculation42 like that of some huge hotel or other business involving a margin43 for waste. He could afford, he could work waste too, clearly — and what was it, that term, you might have felt him ask, but a mean measure, anyway? quite as the “artful,” opposed to his larger game, would be the hiding and pouncing44 of children at play. “Do I gather that those uncanny words of his were just meant to put me off?” he inquired. And then as she but boldly and smilingly shrugged45, repudiating46 responsibility, “Look here, Lady Sandgate, ain’t you honestly going to help me?” he pursued.
This engaged her sincerity47 without affecting her gaiety. “Mr. Bender, Mr. Bender, I’ll help you if you’ll help me!”
“You’ll really get me something from him to go on with?”
“I’ll get you something from him to go on with.”
“That’s all I ask — to get that. Then I can move the way I want. But without it I’m held up.”
“You shall have it,” she replied, “if I in turn may look to you for a trifle on account.”
“Well,” he dryly gloomed at her, “what do you call a trifle?”
“I mean”— she waited but an instant —“what you would feel as one.”
“That won’t do. You haven’t the least idea, Lady Sandgate,” he earnestly said, “how I feel at these foolish times. I’ve never got used to them yet.”
“Ah, don’t you understand,” she pressed, “that if I give you an advantage I’m completely at your mercy?”
“Well, what mercy,” he groaned, “do you deserve?”
She waited a little, brightly composed — then she indicated her inner shrine48, the whereabouts of her precious picture. “Go and look at her again and you’ll see.”
His protest was large, but so, after a moment, was his compliance49 — his heavy advance upon the other room, from just within the doorway50 of which the great Lawrence was serenely51 visible. Mr. Bender gave it his eyes once more — though after the fashion verily of a man for whom it had now no freshness of a glamour52, no shade of a secret; then he came back to his hostess. “Do you call giving me an advantage squeezing me by your sweet modesty for less than I may possibly bear?”
“How can I say fairer,” she returned, “than that, with my backing about the other picture, which I’ve passed you my word for, thrown in, I’ll resign myself to whatever you may be disposed — characteristically! — to give for this one.”
“If it’s a question of resignation,” said Mr. Bender, “you mean of course what I may be disposed — characteristically! — not to give.”
She played on him for an instant all her radiance. “Yes then, you dear sharp rich thing!”
“And you take in, I assume,” he pursued, “that I’m just going to lean on you, for what I want, with the full weight of a determined53 man.”
“Well,” she laughed, “I promise you I’ll thoroughly54 obey the direction of your pressure.”
“All right then!” And he stopped before her, in his unrest, monumentally pledged, yet still more massively immeasurable. “How’ll you have it?”
She bristled55 as with all the possible beautiful choices; then she shed her selection as a heaving fruit-tree might have dropped some round ripeness. It was for her friend to pick up his plum and his privilege. “Will you write a cheque?”
“Yes, if you want it right away.” To which, however, he added, clapping vainly a breast-pocket: “But my cheque-book’s down in my car.”
“At the door?” She scarce required his assent56 to touch a bell. “I can easily send for it.” And she threw off while they waited: “It’s so sweet your ‘flying round’ with your cheque-book!”
He put it with promptitude another way. “It flies round pretty well with Mr ——!”
“Mr. Bender’s cheque-book — in his car,” she went on to Gotch, who had answered her summons.
The owner of the interesting object further instructed him: “You’ll find in the pocket a large red morocco case.”
“Very good, sir,” said Gotch — but with another word for his mistress. “Lord John would like to know —”
“Lord John’s there?” she interrupted.
Gotch turned to the open door. “Here he is, my lady.”
She accommodated herself at once, under Mr. Bender’s eye, to the complication involved in his lordship’s presence. “It’s he who went round to Bond Street.”
Mr. Bender stared, but saw the connection. “To stop the show?” And then as the young man was already there: “You’ve stopped the show?”
“It’s ‘on’ more than ever!” Lord John responded while Gotch retired57: a hurried, flurried, breathless Lord John, strikingly different from the backward messenger she had lately seen despatched. “But Theign should be here!”— he addressed her excitedly. “I announce you a call from the Prince.”
“The Prince?”— she gasped58 as for the burden of the honour. “He follows you?”
Mr. Bender, with an eagerness and a candour there was no mistaking, recognised on behalf of his ampler action a world of associational advantage and auspicious59 possibility. “Is the Prince after the thing?”
Lord John remained, in spite of this challenge, conscious of nothing but his message. “He was there with Mackintosh — to see and admire the picture; which he thinks, by the way, a Mantovano pure and simple! — and did me the honour to remember me. When he heard me report to Mackintosh in his presence the sentiments expressed to me here by our noble friend and of which, embarrassed though I doubtless was,” the young man pursued to Lady Sandgate, “I gave as clear an account as I could, he was so delighted with it that he declared they mustn’t think then of taking the thing off, but must on the contrary keep putting it forward for all it’s worth, and he would come round and congratulate and thank Theign and explain him his reasons.”
Their hostess cast about for a sign. “Why Theign is at Kitty’s, worse luck! The Prince calls on him here?”
“He calls, you see, on you, my lady — at five-forty-five; and graciously desired me so to put it you.”
“He’s very kind, but”— she took in her condition —“I’m not even dressed!”
“You’ll have time”— the young man was a comfort —“while I rush to Berkeley Square. And pardon me, Bender — though it’s so near — if I just bag your car.”
“That’s, that’s it, take his car!”— Lady Sandgate almost swept him away.
“You may use my car all right,” Mr. Bender contributed —“but what I want to know is what the man’s after.”
“The man? what man?” his friend scarce paused to ask.
“The Prince then — if you allow he is a man! Is he after my picture?”
Lord John vividly60 disclaimed61 authority. “If you’ll wait, my dear fellow, you’ll see.”
“Oh why should he ‘wait’?” burst from their cautious companion — only to be caught up, however, in the next breath, so swift her gracious revolution. “Wait, wait indeed, Mr. Bender — I won’t give you up for any Prince!” With which she appealed again to Lord John. “He wants to ‘congratulate’?”
“On Theign’s decision, as I’ve told you — which I announced to Mackintosh, by Theign’s extraordinary order, under his Highness’s nose, and which his Highness, by the same token, took up like a shot.”
Her face, as she bethought herself, was convulsed as by some quick perception of what her informant must have done and what therefore the Prince’s interest rested on; all, however, to the effect, given their actual company, of her at once dodging62 and covering that issue. “The decision to remove the picture?”
Lord John also observed a discretion63. “He wouldn’t hear of such a thing — says it must stay stock still. So there you are!”
This determined in Mr. Bender a not unnatural, in fact quite a clamorous64, series of questions. “But where are we, and what has the Prince to do with Lord Theign’s decision when that’s all I’m here for? What in thunder is Lord Theign’s decision — what was his ‘extraordinary order’?”
Lord John, too long detained and his hand now on the door, put off this solicitor65 as he had already been put off. “Lady Sandgate, you tell him! I rush!”
Mr. Bender saw him vanish, but all to a greater bewilderment. “What the h —— then (I beg your pardon!) is he talking about, and what ‘sentiments’ did he report round there that Lord Theign had been expressing?”
His hostess faced it not otherwise than if she had resolved not to recognise the subject of his curiosity — for fear of other recognitions. “They put everything on me, my dear man — but I haven’t the least idea.”
He looked at her askance. “Then why does the fellow say you have?”
Much at a loss for the moment, she yet found her way. “Because the fellow’s so agog66 that he doesn’t know what he says!” In addition to which she was relieved by the reappearance of Gotch, who bore on a salver the object he had been sent for and to which he duly called attention.
“The large red morocco case.”
Lady Sandgate fairly jumped at it. “Your blessed cheque-book. Lay it on my desk,” she said to Gotch, though waiting till he had departed again before she resumed to her visitor: “Mightn’t we conclude before he comes?”
“The Prince?” Mr. Bender’s imagination had strayed from the ground to which she sought to lead it back, and it but vaguely67 retraced68 its steps. “Will he want your great-grandmother?”
“Well, he may when he sees her!” Lady Sandgate laughed. “And Theign, when he comes, will give you on his own question, I feel sure, every information. Shall I fish it out for you?” she encouragingly asked, beside him by her secretary-desk, at which he had arrived under her persuasive69 guidance and where she sought solidly to establish him, opening out the gilded70 crimson71 case for his employ, so that he had but to help himself. “What enormous cheques! You can never draw one for two-pound-ten!”
“That’s exactly what you deserve I should do!” He remained after this solemnly still, however, like some high-priest circled with ceremonies; in consonance with which, the next moment, both her hands held out to him the open and immaculate page of the oblong series much as they might have presented a royal infant at the christening-font.
He failed, in his preoccupation, to receive it; so she placed it before him on the table, coming away with a brave gay “Well, I leave it to you!” She had not, restlessly revolving72, kept her discreet73 distance for many minutes before she found herself almost face to face with the recurrent Gotch, upright at the door with a fresh announcement.
“Mr. Crimble, please — for Lady Grace.”
“Mr. Crimble again?”— she took it discomposedly.
It reached Mr. Bender at the secretary, but to a different effect. “Mr. Crimble? Why he’s just the man I want to see!”
Gotch, turning to the lobby, had only to make way for him. “Here he is, my lady.”
“Then tell her ladyship.”
“She has come down,” said Gotch while Hugh arrived and his companion withdrew, and while Lady Grace, reaching the scene from the other quarter, emerged in bright equipment — in her hat, scarf and gloves.
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1
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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9
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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exhale
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| v.呼气，散出，吐出，蒸发 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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solicitation
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| n.诱惑；揽货；恳切地要求；游说 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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arena
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| n.竞技场，运动场所；竞争场所，舞台 | |
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hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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fatuous
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| adj.愚昧的；昏庸的 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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peculation
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| n.侵吞公款[公物] | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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pouncing
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的现在分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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repudiating
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| v.（正式地）否认( repudiate的现在分词 )；拒绝接受；拒绝与…往来；拒不履行（法律义务） | |
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47
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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48
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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49
compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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50
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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52
glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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55
bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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auspicious
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| adj.吉利的；幸运的，吉兆的 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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disclaimed
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| v.否认( disclaim的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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clamorous
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| adj.吵闹的，喧哗的 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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agog
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| adj.兴奋的，有强烈兴趣的； adv.渴望地 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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68
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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70
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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71
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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73
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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