Nevertheless, Ishbel became suddenly and acutely aware that she had on more jewels than any woman in the house. Not only was there an all-round and almost unbearably3 heavy tiara on her small head, nearly a foot high and composed of diamonds and emeralds as large as plums, but she wore a rope of diamonds that reached far below her knees, a necklace of five rows of pearls as big as her husband’s thumb nails, and linked with emeralds and diamonds, a sunburst of diamonds that looked like a waterfall, and equally priceless gems4 cutting into the flesh of her tender shoulders where they clasped the only visible portion of her raiment. Ishbel was justly proud of her magnificent collection of jewels, but, being a young woman of unerring good taste, was in the habit of wearing a few at a time. Several hours earlier, however, her husband, grown jealous of the prosiliency of the New South African millionnaires, had come home with the rope and commanded her to put on every jewel she possessed5 for the opera that night, and the first great ball of the season to follow. As she had surveyed herself in her long mirror it had occurred to her that she looked like a begum, but when she had called her husband’s attention to the fact, and suggested some modification6 in her display of converted capital, he had replied curtly7 that he had spent a quarter of his fortune for the public to look at on her equally ornamental8 self, and that when he wished it displayed in toto, displayed it should be. That is the way for a man to talk to his wife when he means to be obeyed; and when the masterful and successful Mr. Jones delivered his ultimatums9, few that had aught to do with him were so hardy10 as to continue the argument.
Ishbel had trained herself to take him humorously, to believe him the most generous of men because he had proved quite amenable11 to the family plan of marrying off her sisters (they were handsome and an additional excuse for entertaining), and because he never alluded12 to her enormous bills or forgot to hand her a check for pin-money every quarter. She had rewarded him with thanks couched in an endless variety of terms and glances, even caresses13 when he demanded them. When they were alone at table (as seldom as she could manage) she even coquetted with him, giving him the full play of her piquant14 eyes and sweet smile, and talking in her brightest manner, to conceal15 from himself how hopeless he was in conversation. She even pitied him sometimes; for, in spite of his riches, his interests in the City, and the great position in society that she had given him, he seemed to her a lonely being, and she would have loved him if she could.
To-night, however, his words had rankled16. They had echoed during the drive to the opera-house, stirring her most amiable17 of minds to a vague anger; and now, quite suddenly, she was filled with an intense mortification18 and resentment19. Every intelligent being that has made a signal mistake in his life’s order has some sudden moment of awakening20, of vision. The phrase “kept wife” had not yet arrived in literature, but it rose in Ishbel’s mind as she glanced from her white slender body, weary in its glittering armor, to the big heavy man opposite, sitting with a hand on either knee, his hard bright little eyes surveying her with triumphant21 approval. She was his property; he owned her, as he owned his house in Park Lane, the castle he had recently bought from a peer terrified by the remodelling22 of the death duties, his princely equipages, the noisy jewels on her person. After all, she had not a penny of her own, was as poor as when she had been one of fourteen hopeless sisters in Ireland; for he had carefully abstained23 from settlements, that she might feel her dependence24, thank him periodically for his splendid checks. Her father had been in no position to insist upon settlements, but, had he been, would she be any better off ethically25 than now? They would have been but another present from the man who had bought her as he had bought his other famous possessions. If she had children, they would be his, not hers, and there was nothing he could not compel her to do, and be upheld by the laws of his country, unless he both beat her and kept a mistress.
She suddenly loathed27 him. That she had given him value received made her loathe26 him, and herself, the more. She shrank until she expected to hear her jewels rattle28 together, then raised her eyes again and flashed them about the house. She picked out twenty women in that glance who had sold their beauty for what their jewels represented, although, for the most part, they had the saving grace to be owned by gentlemen. But were they so much better off? Jones, at least, was now inoffensive in his manners and speech. Many gentlemen she knew were not, and one duke had a habit of catching29 her by the arm and leering into her crimsoning30 ear a horrid31 story. But that was not the point. What was the point? That women who married men for jewels and not for love were no better than the women of the street? Most women would have stopped there. It is a sentimental32 form of reasoning, eminently33 satisfactory to many women, and to some male novelists. But Ishbel had been born with a clear logical brain in which the fatal gift of humor was seldom dormant34, and of late this brain had shown symptoms of impatience35 at neglect, muttered vague demands for recognition. Youth, a natural love of gayety, pleasure, splendor36, reigning37 as a beauty, a laudable desire to help one’s family,—all very well—but?—
Ishbel’s inner vision pierced straight down to the root (ornamentally overlaid) of the whole matter. The portionless woman, whether there was love between herself and her husband or not, was a property, a subject, an annex38, nothing more, not even if she bore him children. Indeed, in the latter case she but proved the old contention39 that in bearing children she fulfilled her only mission on earth.
Ishbel had heard, as one hears of all civilized40 activities, of Woman’s Suffrage41; this, too, passed in review before that search-light in her mind, and she wondered if the women asking for it dared to do so unless economically independent. She and Bridgit, when resting on their labors42 two years before,—a breathing spell in the grouse43 season,—had amused themselves in the library tracing the course of woman during those periods of the world’s history when she had been famous for her innings; and both had been struck by the fact that when nations were at peace and man enjoyed prosperity and comparative leisure, woman’s eminence44 and apparent freedom had been but her lord’s opportunity to display his riches and gratify the non-military side of his vanity. Only in a small minority of cases had this eminence and freedom been the result of self-support, inherited wealth, genius, or dynastic authority: the vast majority had been toys, jewel-laden henchwomen; even the great courtesans had been dependent upon their youth and charm and the caprice of man.
No wonder so few women had left an impress on history. How could any brain, even if endowed with true genius, reach the highest order of development while the character remained flaccid in its willing dependence upon the reigning sex? And man had despised woman throughout the ages, even when most enslaved by her, knowing that on him depended her very existence. He had the physical strength to wring45 her neck, and the legal backing to treat her as partner or servant, whichever he found agreeable or convenient. She and Bridgit had discussed this phenomenon philosophically46 but impersonally47, it being understood that when they did give their brains exercise, it should not interfere48 with their youthful enjoyment49 of life; nor should the exercise continue long enough to become a habit; time enough for that sort of thing when one had turned thirty. But it occurred to Ishbel in these moments of painful clarity. She had not taken the least interest in Woman’s Suffrage, a movement under a cloud at this time, but she had a sudden and poignant50 desire to be independent, and a simultaneous conviction that no woman was worthy51 of anything better than being one of man’s miscellaneous properties until she were. What right had women, supported by men, living on their exertions52 or fortunes, displayed or used at their pleasure, tricking them by a thousand ingenious devices to gain their ends, to be regarded as equals, political or otherwise? The most democratic of woman employers, unless a faddist53, did not regard her employees, particularly her servants, as equals; and yet they, at least, worked for their bread, were economically independent, could throw up their situations without scandal. Ishbel had twenty-three servants in her ugly Park Lane mansion54, and in the bitterness of her humiliation55 she felt herself the inferior of the scullery maid. She opened her eyes wide, staring out upon the world through the glittering curtain before her. What an extraordinary world it was! How silly! How uncivilized! How incomplete! What might not women attain56 with complete self-respect, and how utterly57 hopeless was their case without it!
“What are you thinking about?” asked Mr. Jones, curiously58. He had been watching her for some moments.
“That I ache with all these ridiculous jewels.” Ishbel stood up and walked deliberately59 to the back of the box. “I feel as if I were wearing an old-fashioned crystal chandelier. Will you kindly60 put my cloak on?”
Jones had risen (being well trained in the small courtesies), but he showed no intention of following her.
“Certainly not,” he said peremptorily61. “Sit down. I wish you to remain here until it is time to go to the duchess’s ball?—”
“I’m not going to the duchess’s ball. I’m going home.”
He stared at her, his long straight mouth opening slightly, and his heavy underjaw twitching62. Like many millionnaires, self-made, he looked like a retired63 prize-fighter, and for the moment he felt as old gods of the ring must feel when brushed contemptuously aside by arrogant64 youth. This was the first time his wife had shown the slightest hint of rebellion, deviated65 from a sweetness and tact66 that was without either condescension67 from her lofty birth, or servility to his wealth. But there was neither sweetness nor tact in her small pinched face. Her mouth was as compressed as his own could be, and the expression of her eyes frightened him.
“What on earth’s the matter with you?” he asked roughly.
“I tell you I don’t like the idea of looking like an idol68, a chandelier, a begum, what you will; of having on more jewels than any woman in the house; of looking nouveau riche, if you will have it. And I am tired and am going home to bed. You can come or not, as you like.”
She put on her cloak. Jones, swearing under his breath, but helpless, caught up his own coat and hat and followed her out of the house. But although he stormed, protested, even condescended69 to beg, all the way home, she would not utter another word, and when she reached her room, locked the door behind her.
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1
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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unbearably
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| adv.不能忍受地，无法容忍地；慌 | |
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gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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modification
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| n.修改，改进，缓和，减轻 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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9
ultimatums
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| 最后通牒( ultimatum的名词复数 ) | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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amenable
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| adj.经得起检验的；顺从的；对负有义务的 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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21
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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22
remodelling
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| v.改变…的结构[形状]( remodel的现在分词 ) | |
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23
abstained
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| v.戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 )；弃权（不投票） | |
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24
dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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ethically
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| adv.在伦理上，道德上 | |
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loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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28
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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29
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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30
crimsoning
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| 变为深红色（crimson的现在分词形式） | |
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31
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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34
dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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36
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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reigning
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| adj.统治的，起支配作用的 | |
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annex
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| vt.兼并，吞并；n.附属建筑物 | |
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contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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40
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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41
suffrage
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| n.投票，选举权，参政权 | |
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42
labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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43
grouse
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| n.松鸡；v.牢骚，诉苦 | |
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44
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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45
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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46
philosophically
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| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
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47
impersonally
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| ad.非人称地 | |
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48
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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49
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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50
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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51
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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52
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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53
faddist
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| n.趋于时尚者，好新奇的人 | |
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54
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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55
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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56
attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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57
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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58
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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59
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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60
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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61
peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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62
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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63
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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64
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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deviated
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| v.偏离，越轨( deviate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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68
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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69
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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