And yet with the woman sitting there everything was different! Of all the sensations—unease, anxiety, foreboding, jealousy5—with which her heart had been filled this time last year, only one survived, and of that one she was secretly very much ashamed, for it was jealousy.
And now she was trying with all the force of her nature to banish6 the ugly thing from her heart.
What must be—must be! If Oliver's heart and soul, as well as the whole of his ardent7, virile8 physical entity9, desired Laura, then she, his mother, must help him, as much as lay within her power, to compass that desire.
Since Godfrey Pavely's death, it had been as if Mrs. Tropenell's life had slipped back two or three years. All these last few months she had written to Oliver long diary letters, and Oliver on his side had written to her vivid chronicles of his Mexican life. Perhaps she saw less, rather than more of Laura than she had done in the old days, for Laura, since her [Pg 286] widowhood, had had more to do. She took her duties as the present owner of The Chase very seriously. Still, nothing was changed—while yet in a sense everything had been changed—by the strange, untoward10 death of Godfrey Pavely.
Oliver's letters were no longer what they had been, they were curiously11 different, and yet only she, his mother, perchance would have seen the difference, had one of his letters of two years ago and one of his letters of to-day been put side by side.
The love he had borne for the Spanish woman, of whom he had once spoken with such deep feeling, had not affected13 his relations with his mother. But the love he now bore Laura Pavely had. Not long ago Laura had shown Mrs. Tropenell one of Oliver's letters, and though there was really very little in it, she had been oddly nervous and queer in her manner, hardly giving the older woman time to read it through before she had taken it back out of her hand.
Laura had become more human since her husband's death; it was as if a constricting14 band had been loosened about her heart. Even so, Oliver's mother often wondered sorely whether Laura would ever welcome Oliver in any character save that of a devoted15, discreet16, and selfless friend. She doubted it. And yet, when he had written and suggested coming back now, instead of waiting till Christmas, she had not said a word to stop him. And the moment she had heard that he had reached England, and that he was to be here late on this very afternoon, she had sent a note to The Chase and asked Laura to share their first meal.
One thing had made a great difference to Mrs. [Pg 287] Tropenell's life during the last few months. That was the constant, familiar presence of Lord St. Amant. Now that he was Lord Lieutenant17 of the county, he was far more at Knowlton Abbey than he had been for some years, and somehow—neither could have told you why—they had become even closer friends than they had been before.
It was well understood that any supplicant18 who had Mrs. Tropenell on his side could count on Lord St. Amant's help and goodwill19. Though she was of course quite unaware20 of it, there were again rumours21 through the whole of the country-side that soon the mistress of Freshley Manor would become Lady St. Amant, and that then the Abbey would be opened as that great house had not been for close on forty years.
And now, to-night, Mrs. Tropenell suddenly remembered that Lord St. Amant was coming to dinner—she had forgotten it in the excitement of Oliver's return. But she told herself, with a kind of eagerness, that her old friend's presence might, after all, make things easier for them all! It is always easier to manage a party of four people than of three. Also, it made less marked the fact of Laura's presence on this, the first evening, of Oliver's return home.
Mrs. Tropenell had not been able to discover from her son's manner whether he was glad or sorry Laura was coming to-night. And sitting there, waiting for her guests, she anxiously debated within herself whether Oliver would have preferred to see Laura for the first time alone. Of course he could have offered to go and fetch her; but he had not availed himself of that excuse, and his mother knew that she would be present at their meeting.
[Pg 288] The door opened, quietly, and as had been the case a year ago, Mrs. Tropenell saw her beautiful visitor before Laura knew that there was any one in the darkened room.
Once more Mrs. Tropenell had a curious feeling as if time had slipped back, and that everything was happening over again. The only difference was that Laura to-night was all in black, with no admixture of white. Still, by an odd coincidence the gown she was wearing was made exactly as had been that other gown last year, and through the thin black folds of chiffon her lovely white arms shone palely, revealingly....
And then, as her guest came into the circle of light, Mrs. Tropenell realised with a feeling almost of shock that Laura was very much changed. She no longer had the sad, strained, rather severe look on her face which had been there last year. She looked younger, instead of older, and there was an expression of half-eager, half-shrinking expectation on her face—to-night.
"Aunt Letty? How good of you to ask me——" But her voice sank away into silence as the sound of quick footsteps were heard hastening across the hall.
The door opened, and Oliver Tropenell came in.
He walked straight to Laura, and took both her hands in his. "You got my cable?" he asked.
And then Laura blushed, overwhelmingly. She had had said nothing of that cable to Mrs. Tropenell.
And as they stood there—Oliver still grasping Laura's hands in his—the mother, looking on, saw with a mixture of joy and of jealous pain that Laura [Pg 289] stood before him as if hypnotised, her heavy-lidded blue eyes fixed22 upwards23 on his dark, glowing face.
Suddenly they all three heard the at once plaintive24 and absurd hoot25 of Lord St. Amant's motor—and it was as if a deep spell had suddenly been broken. Slowly, reluctantly, Oliver released Laura's hands, and Mrs. Tropenell exclaimed in a voice which had a tremor26 in it: "It's Lord St. Amant, Oliver. I forgot that he had asked himself to dinner to-night. He said he could not come till half-past eight, but I suppose he got away earlier than he expected to do."
And then with the coming into the room of her old friend, life seemed suddenly to become again normal, and though by no means passionless, yet lacking that curious atmosphere of violent, speechless emotion that had been there a moment or two ago. Of the four it was Laura who seemed the most moved. She came up and slipped her hand into Mrs. Tropenell's, holding it tightly, probably unaware that she was doing so.
After the first few words of welcome to Oliver, Lord St. Amant plunged27 into local talk with Mrs. Tropenell, and as he did so, he looked a little wryly28 at Laura. Why didn't she move away and talk to Oliver? Why did she stick close like that to Letty—to Letty, with whom he had hoped to spend a quiet, cosy29, cheerful evening?
But Laura, for the first time in her life, felt as if she were no longer in full possession of herself. It was as if she had passed into the secret keeping of another human being; she had the sensation that her mind was now in fee to another human mind, her will overawed by another human will. And there was [Pg 290] a side to her nature which rebelled against this sudden, quick transference of herself.
With what she now half-realised to have been a kind of self-imposed hypocrisy30, she had told herself often, during the last few months, that Oliver and she when they again met would become dear, dear friends. He would be the adorer, she the happy, calm, adored. And that then, after a long probation31, perhaps of years, in any case not for a long, long time, she might bring herself half reluctantly, and entirely32 for his sake, to consider the question of—re-marriage.
But now? Since Oliver had taken her hands in his, and gazed down speechlessly into her eyes, she had known that it was he, not she, would set the pace in their new relationship, and that however sincere his self-imposed restraint and humility33. So it was that Laura instinctively35 clung to Mrs. Tropenell's hand.
The passion of love, which so often makes even quite a young man feel older, steadier, more responsible, has quite the opposite effect on a woman. To every woman love brings back youth, and the deeper, the more instinctive34 the love, the greater the tremors36 and the uncertainties37 which, according to a hypocritical convention, belong only to youth.
The years which Laura had spent with Godfrey Pavely seemed obliterated38. Memories of her married life which had been very poignantly39 present in the early days of her widowhood, filling her with mingled40 repugnance41, pain, and yes, remorse42, were now erased43 from the tablets of her mind. She felt as if it was the young, ignorant Laura—that Laura who had been so full of high, almost defiant44 ideals—who was now standing45, so full of confused longing46 and hope, [Pg 291] if yet also a little fearful, on the threshold of a new, wonderful life....
Good-breeding and the observance of certain long-established, social usages have an inestimable value in all the great crises of human existence. To-night each of the other three felt the comfort of Lord St. Amant's presence among them. His agreeable ease of manner, his pleasant, kindly47 deference48 to the older and the younger lady, all helped to lessen49 the tension, and make what each of his companions felt to be a breathless time of waiting, easier to live through.
He himself was surprised and shocked by the change he saw in Oliver Tropenell's face. Oliver looked worn, haggard, yet filled with a kind of fierce gladness. He appeared to-night not so much the happy, as the exultant50, conqueror51 of fate. He talked, and talked well, of the political situation in Mexico, of certain happenings which had taken place in England during his absence, and though now and again Mrs. Tropenell joined in the talk, on the whole she, like Laura, was content to listen to the two men.
After dinner, while they were still alone in the drawing-room, Laura began to talk, rather eagerly, of her little Alice. She had begun to wonder whether it would not be well for the child to go to school as a weekly boarder. There was such a school within reasonable motoring distance. Alice was becoming rather too grown-up, and unchildlike. She had certain little friends in the town of Pewsbury, but they did not really touch her life.
But even as Mrs. Tropenell and Laura talked the matter over, they both felt their talk to be unreal. [Pg 292] Each of them knew that Laura's second marriage, if ever marry she did, would completely alter the whole situation with regard to Alice. Oliver was not the man to hang up his hat in another man's house—besides, why should he do so? The Chase belonged to Alice, even now.
And then rather suddenly, Laura asked a question: "How long is Oliver going to stay in England, Aunt Letty?"
And Mrs. Tropenell quietly answered, "I should think he would stay till after Christmas. I gather everything is going on quite well out there, thanks to Gillie." She waited a moment, and then repeated, thoughtfully: "Yes—I feel sure Oliver means to stay till after the New Year——"
And then she stopped suddenly. There had come a change over Laura's face. Laura had remembered what Mrs. Tropenell for the moment had not done—that early in January Godfrey Pavely would have been dead exactly a year.
As ten o'clock struck, the other two came in, still talking eagerly to one another.
Lord St. Amant sat down by Laura.
"I'm going to have a little shooting party later on—not now, but early in December," he said. "Mrs. Tropenell is coming, and I hope Oliver too. I wonder if you would do me the great pleasure of being there, Laura? It's a long, long time since you honoured the Abbey with your company——"
He was smiling down at her. "I would ask Alice to come too," he went on, "but I think she'd be bored! Perhaps you'll be bored too? I'm not having any very [Pg 293] brilliant or wonderful people, just a few of the neighbours whom I feel I've rather neglected."
Laura laughed. "Of course I shall enjoy coming!" she exclaimed.
Oliver was standing by his mother. Suddenly he muttered, "Mother? Ask Lord St. Amant to come over and speak to you——"
But before she could obey him, Lord St. Amant got up and quickly came over to where Mrs. Tropenell was sitting, leaving a vacant place by Laura.
With his back to the two younger people he sat down close to Mrs. Tropenell, and all at once he saw that her dark eyes were full of tears. He took her hand and patted it gently. "I feel dreadfully de trop," he murmured. "Can't we go off, we two old folk, to your little room, my dearest? I'm sure you've something you want to show me there, or consult me about?"
And while Lord St. Amant was saying this to his old love, the two on the other side of the room were silent, as if stricken dumb by the nearness each felt to the other.
And at last it was Laura who broke the silence. "I think I must be going home," she said uncertainly.
She looked across at her hostess. "I don't want to make Lord St. Amant think he ought to go too. Perhaps I can slip away quietly?"
"I'll walk back with you."
Oliver spoke12 with a kind of dry decision.
He got up. "Mother? I'm taking Laura home. I shan't be long. Perhaps Lord St. Amant will stay till I come back. It's quite early."
He turned to Laura, now standing by his side: [Pg 294] "Say good-bye to them now. I'll fetch your shawl, and we'll go out through the window."
Laura obeyed, as in a dream. "Good-bye, Aunt Letty. Good-night, Lord St. Amant—I shall enjoy being at the Abbey."
She suffered herself to be kissed by the one—her hand pressed by the other. Then she turned as if in answer to an unseen signal.
Oliver was already back in the room, her Shetland shawl on his arm. He put it round her shoulders, taking care not to touch her as he did so; then he opened the long French window, and stood aside for a moment while she stepped through into the moonlight, out of doors.
They were now in the beech52 avenue, in a darkness that seemed the more profound because of the streaks53 of silvery moonlight which lay just behind them. But even so, the white shawl Laura was wearing showed dimly against the depths of shade encompassing54 her.
All at once Oliver turned and said so suddenly that she, walking by his side, started: "Laura? Do you remember this time last year?"
And as she answered the one word "Yes," he went on: "It was to-night, just a year ago, that I promised to become your friend. And as long as you were another man's wife, I kept my promise, at any rate to the letter. If you tell me to go away for the next three months, I will do so—to-morrow. If I stay, I must stay, Laura, as your lover."
As she remained silent, he went on quickly: "Do not misunderstand me. I only ask for the right to love you—I do not ask for any return."
[Pg 295] She was filled with an exquisite55, tremulous joy. But that side of her nature which was restrained, and which had been so atrophied56, was ignorant of the generosities57 of love, and shrank from quick surrender. So all she said, in a voice which sounded very cold to herself, was, "But that, Oliver, would surely not be fair—to you?"
"Quite fair!" he exclaimed eagerly—"quite fair. In no case would I ever wish to obtain what was not freely vouchsafed58."
He muttered, in a voice so low as to be scarcely audible, some further words which moved her strangely, and vibrated to a chord which had never before been touched, save to jar and to offend.
"To me aught else were sacrilege," were the words Oliver Tropenell said.
By now Laura's eyes had become accustomed to the darkness. She could see her companion's tall, at once broad-shouldered and lean figure, standing at rights angles to herself, keeping its distance....
Taking a step forward, she put out her right hand a little blindly, and laid it on the sleeve of his coat. Laura had always been an inarticulate woman, but with that touch, that fleeting59 moment of contact between them, something of what she was feeling took flight from her heart to his——
"Laura?"
He grasped her hands as he had grasped them three hours ago when they had first met in his mother's presence. And then again he breathed her name. But this time the touch of doubting, incredulous joy had passed into something ardent, exultant, possessive, and she was in his arms—her self-absorption, her fastidiousness, [Pg 296] her lifelong shrinking from any strong emotion, swept away by a force which she had once only known sufficiently60 to abhor61 and to condemn62, but which she now felt to be divine.
And then Oliver Tropenell said a strange thing indeed. "To have secured this immortal63 moment, I would willingly die a shameful64, ignoble65 death to-morrow," were the words he whispered, as he strained Laura to his heart, as his lips sought and found her lips....
At last they paced slowly on, and Laura found herself secretly exulting66 in the violence of Oliver's emotion, and in the broken, passionate67 terms of endearment68 with which he endowed her. That her response was that of a girl rather than that of a woman was to her lover an added ecstasy69. It banished70 the hateful, earthy shade of Godfrey Pavely—that shade which had haunted Oliver Tropenell all that evening, even in his mother's house.
Just as they were about to step out from under the arch of the beech trees on to the high road, he again took her in his arms. "Laura?" he whispered. "May I tell my mother?" But as he felt her hesitating: "No!" he exclaimed. "Forget that I asked you that! We will say nothing yet. Secrecy71 is a delicious concomitant of love." She heard the added, whispered words, uttered as if to his own heart, "At least so I have ever found it." And they were words which a little troubled Laura. Surely she was the first woman he had ever loved?
"Aunt Letty has a right to know," she murmured. "But no one else, Oliver, must know, till January is past." And then she hung her head, perchance a [Pg 297] little ashamed of this harking back to the conventions of her everyday life.
He was surprised to hear her say further and with an effort, "I would rather Lord St. Amant didn't know. We shall be staying at Knowlton Abbey together in December."
"We shall," he said exultantly72. "For that I thank God!"
Then suddenly he released her from out of his strong encompassing arms, and stooping down very low he kissed the hem4 of her long black gown....
After they had parted Oliver Tropenell waited on and on in the dark garden till he heard Lord St. Amant's car drive away. Then he walked quickly across the lawn and back into his mother's drawing-room.
"Mother?" he said briefly73. "Laura and I are going to be married. But we do not wish any one to know this till—till February."
Even now he could not wholly banish Godfrey Pavely's intrusive74 presence from his Laura-filled heart.
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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chrysanthemums
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| n.菊花( chrysanthemum的名词复数 ) | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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virile
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| adj.男性的；有男性生殖力的；有男子气概的；强有力的 | |
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entity
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| n.实体，独立存在体，实际存在物 | |
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untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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constricting
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| 压缩，压紧，使收缩( constrict的现在分词 ) | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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supplicant
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goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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unaware
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rumours
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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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upwards
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plaintive
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hoot
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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wryly
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| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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hypocrisy
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probation
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| n.缓刑(期)，(以观后效的)察看；试用(期) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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humility
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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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instinctively
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tremors
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| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
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uncertainties
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| 无把握( uncertainty的名词复数 )； 不确定； 变化不定； 无把握、不确定的事物 | |
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obliterated
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| v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 )；涂去；擦掉；彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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poignantly
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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erased
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| v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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longing
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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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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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encompassing
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| v.围绕( encompass的现在分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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56
atrophied
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| adj.萎缩的，衰退的v.（使）萎缩，（使）虚脱，（使）衰退( atrophy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
generosities
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| n.慷慨( generosity的名词复数 )；大方；宽容；慷慨或宽容的行为 | |
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58
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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60
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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61
abhor
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| v.憎恶；痛恨 | |
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62
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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66
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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68
endearment
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| n.表示亲爱的行为 | |
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69
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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70
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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72
exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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intrusive
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| adj.打搅的；侵扰的 | |
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