It was an unequal, miserable5-enough struggle, but it had its termination; and, like all such terminations, it was an abrupt6, unexpected, almost fantastic one. Lisbeth had never thought of such an end to her self-inflicted penance7. No such possibility had presented itself to her mind. It was not her way to romance, and she had confined herself to realities.
Sitting at her bedroom window, one chill, uncomfortable December day, she arrived at a fanciful caprice. It was as raw and miserable a day as one would, or rather would not, wish to see. The wind blew over the sea in gusts, the gulls8 flew languidly under the gray sky, a few dead leaves swirled9 about in eddies10 in the road, and yet this caprice took possession of Lisbeth, as she looked out, and appreciated the perfection of desolateness11. Since Georgie had left Pen’yllan, she had never once been near the old trysting-place. Her walks had always been in the opposite direction, and now it suddenly occurred to her, that she would like to go and see how things would look in her present mood. In five minutes from the time the 183 fancy seized her, Miss Clarissa caught a glimpse of something through the parlor13 window, which made her utter an exclamation14:
“Lisbeth!” she said. “Out again, and on such a day! Dear me! I do trust she is well wrapped up.”
Lisbeth made her way against the damp, chill wind, with a touch of positively15 savage16 pleasure in her own discomfort17. The sands were wet, and unpleasant to walk on; and she was not sorry. What did it matter? She was in the frame of mind to experience a sort of malicious18 enjoyment19 of outward miseries20. The tryst12 looked melancholy21 enough when she reached it. She made her way to the nook, behind the sheltering rocks, and stood there, looking out to sea. She had not expected to find the place wearing its summer aspect, but she was scarcely prepared to face such desolateness. Everything was gray—gray tossing sea, gray screaming gulls, gray lowering sky.
“It would have been better to have stayed at home,” she said.
Still she could not make up her mind to turn back at once, and lingered a little, leaning against a rock, shivering, and feeling dreary22; and so it was that the man who was approaching first caught sight of her figure. 184
Lisbeth did not see this man. She did not care to see either man or woman, at present. The gulls suited her better than human beings, and she believed herself to be utterly23 alone, until footsteps upon the sand, quite near, made her turn with an impatient start.
The man—he was not a yard from her side—raised his hat and stood still. The man was Hector Anstruthers.
For a moment neither uttered a word. Lisbeth thought her heart must have stopped beating. She had turned cold as marble. When she could control herself sufficiently24 to think at all, she thought of Georgie.
“What is the matter?” she exclaimed. “Is somebody ill? Georgie?”
“Georgie is quite well,” he answered.
Then he came close, and held out his hand, with a strange, melancholy smile.
“I ask pardon for alarming you,” he said. “I ask pardon for coming without an excuse; but I have no excuse. Won’t you shake hands with me, Lisbeth?”
She got through the ceremony as quickly as possible, and then drew back, folding her shawl about her. She was shivering with something, besides cold. If she had only been safe at 185 home. If nobody was in danger, what on earth had he come for?
“I was a little startled,” she said. “Pen’yllan is not very attractive to people, as a rule, in winter, and it seemed the most natural thing that Georgie was ill, and had sent you to me.” Then, after a little pause, and a sidelong glance at him, “You look as if you had been ill yourself.”
He certainly did. He was thin, and haggard, and care-worn. His eyes were dangerously bright, and he had a restless air. He was not so sublime25 a dandy, either, as he had been; there was even a kind of negligence26 about him.
“Aunt Clarissa must have been very much alarmed when she saw you,” Lisbeth proceeded, trying to get up a creditable smile.
“I have not seen Miss Clarissa,” he answered. “I came here first.”
This was so ominous27, that Lisbeth succumbed28. She knew, when he said this, that he did not intend to keep up appearances. But she made one more poor effort.
“Then, perhaps, we had better go home,” she remarked.
“No,” he returned, quickly. “I have something to say.” 186
She felt herself losing strength. But what did it matter, let him say what he would? Perhaps it was something about Georgie. She had a dreary feeling that she was ready for anything.
“Go on!” she said.
“Oh!” he cried, in bitter, impatient resignation of her stoicism. “Arm yourself against me; I know you will do that. Sneer29 at my folly30; I am prepared for that, too. But I shall speak. It is Fate. I am a fool, but I must speak.”
“Was it to say this that you came here?” interposed Lisbeth.
“I came because I could not stay away. You are my Fate, I tell you,” almost angrily. “You will not let me rest. When I kissed your hands, that last night, I gave myself up to my madness. I had tried to persuade myself that I had no love for you; but that cured me, and showed me how I had deceived myself. I have never ceased to love you, from the first; and you——”
His words died upon his lips. She looked as he had never seen her look before. She leaned against the rock, as if she needed support. Suddenly her eyes and lashes31 were wet, and she began to tremble slightly. He checked 187 himself, full of swift remorse32. What a rough brute33 he was!
“Don’t!” he said. “I did not mean to frighten you.”
She lifted her eyes, piteously; her lips parted, as if she was going to speak; but she did not speak. She was even weaker than she had thought. She had never been so helpless and shaken before. She shrank from him, and drooping34 her face upon the rock, burst into hysterical35 tears.
He did not pause to ask himself what it meant. He did not understand women’s nerves. He only comprehended that she had given way, that everything was changed, that she was unstrung and weeping. In a moment he had her in his arms, exclaiming, passionately36:
“Lisbeth! Lisbeth!” And then the little straw hat, with its blue ribbon, slipping away from the small, pale face, that lay upon his breast, he bent37 and covered it, this small, pale, tear-wet face, with reckless kisses.
For the moment he did not care what came next, nor what doom38 he brought upon himself, he was so mad with long pent-up love and misery39. He found the little hand under the shawl, too, and fell to kissing that, also, and would not let it go. 188
“Don’t be cruel to me, Lisbeth!” he pleaded, when she tried to draw it away; and she was forced to let it remain. “Don’t be cruel to me,” he said, and still held this hand, when she released herself at last, and stood up, miserable and shame-faced, yet far less miserable than she had been.
“It—it is you who are cruel!” she faltered40. “What am I to say to you! You have left me nothing to say.”
She hung back, half afraid of his vehemence41. He had begun with bitter ravings, and in five minutes had ended by crushing her in his arms. It was her punishment that she should be so humbled42 and brought down.
“Say nothing,” he cried. “Let me say all. I love you. It is Fate.”
She could not help seeing the fantastic side of this, and she smiled, a little, daring smile, though she hung her head.
“Are you—proposing to me?” she ventured, hoping to retrieve43 herself.
He could not stand that, but she would not let him burst out again, and leave her no chance to assert her privilege to struggle at retaining the upper hand.
“You told me that you came in spite of 189 yourself, because you could not stay away. Was it true?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She could not help feeling a glow of triumph, and it shone in her eyes.
“I am glad of that,” she said. “I am glad. It saves me so much.”
“And I may stay?” he exclaimed, in his old, impetuous fashion. “Lisbeth——”
Though he held her hand fast, she managed to stoop down, under pretense44 of rescuing the blue-ribboned hat from the sand.
“You need not go,” she answered.
And that was the end of it.
The three Misses Tregarthyn looked at each in blank dismay, when these two walked into the parlor, an hour after. But Hector grasped his nettle45 with a matter-of-fact boldness, for which Lisbeth intensely admired him in secret.
“I went out on the beach to find Miss Crespigny, and I found her,” he announced. “Here she is, Miss Clarissa, Miss Millicent, Miss Hetty! She has promised to marry me. Oblige us with your blessing46.”
The trio fell upon their beloved Lisbeth, and embraced, as they had done on the previous occasion; but this time she bore it better.
That night Lisbeth sat up until one o’clock, 190 writing a long letter to Georgie Esmond, and trying, in a strangely softened47 and penitent48 mood, to be open and straightforward49 for once.
“I am going to marry Hector Anstruthers, and try to be better,” she wrote. “You know what I mean, when I say ‘better.’ I mean that I want to make Lisbeth Anstruthers a far different creature from Lisbeth Crespigny. Do you think I ever can be a ‘good’ woman, Georgie—like you and your mother? If I ever am one, it will be you two whom I must thank.” And as she wrote this, she shed not unhappy tears over it.
“Perhaps,” she said, “Love will make me as tender as other women.”
And this Love did.
DR. EGGLESTON’S NEW STORY.
“One of the ablest of recent American novels, and indeed of all recent works of fiction.”—London Spectator.
The End
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1
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
radically
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| ad.根本地，本质地 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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penance
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| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
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gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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9
swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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eddies
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| （水、烟等的）漩涡，涡流( eddy的名词复数 ) | |
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desolateness
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| 孤独 | |
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tryst
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| n.约会；v.与…幽会 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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miseries
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| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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negligence
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| n.疏忽，玩忽，粗心大意 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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29
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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30
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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31
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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32
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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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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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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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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40
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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41
vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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43
retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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44
pretense
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| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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45
nettle
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| n.荨麻；v.烦忧，激恼 | |
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46
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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47
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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48
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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49
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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