Everybody was out of town except Ishbel, who was casting nets for the rich tourists, and Julia sat for hours in the gay little shop on the second floor of an old building in Bond Street, watching her friend with wide admiring eyes, and even envying her a little. This, however, she suppressed. She was to be a duchess, and that was the end of it. She would fill her high destiny to the best of her ability, but she wished that meanwhile she could earn a little money, or some unknown relative would leave her a legacy9. France was still “economizing” and gave her no allowance; she literally10 had not money for cab fare. She was determined11, however, never to ask him for money again, so deep had been her mortification12 when he had refused her simple request for books.
Parliament remained in session something over a month, being prorogued13 on September 15. The duke returned to Bosquith for the rest of the grouse season, opened his house in Derbyshire for the pheasant shooting, and went again to Bosquith for partridges and hunting. This time there were guests. Many of them were carefully selected from the most ardent14 supporters of the present Government; but Mrs. Winstone, who, deeply to her satisfaction, was invited to coach and assist the young chatelaine, was permitted to invite “a few younger people, but no really young people.” The duke was alive to the necessity of maturing his heir’s wife as rapidly as possible. The company was always an extremely distinguished15 one, as Mrs. Winstone took pains to impress upon the somewhat indifferent Julia; not the least exalted16 members of the Government honored the various parties, and a good many of the younger men accepted invitations which would force them into association with Harold France, partly to please Mrs. Winstone, partly out of curiosity, and principally because the duke’s shootings, always kept up but seldom placed at the service of guests, were famous. Julia, alive to her responsibilities, set her mind upon becoming an accomplished17 hostess, and although the everlasting18 talk of politics and sport bored her, she was rewarded with a few pleasant acquaintances, who in a measure consoled her for the temporary loss of Bridgit and Ishbel.
There was a fine old Jacobean mansion19 on the estate in Derbyshire, and Julia reminded herself that she was realizing a youthful dream, admired the brilliant appearance of the women at dinner, and went occasionally to the coverts20. But the immense beautiful house had the more notable attraction of a fine library, and Julia’s happiness was further increased from October until the middle of February by the fact that she saw less of her husband than formerly21. No more ardent sportsman breathed; he could kill all day, and when he came home at night was agreeably fatigued22 and ready for sleep. He was as much in love as ever, but it was long since he had been able to command all the pleasures of his class, and he meant to enjoy every good that came his way to the last nibble24. No more methodical soul ever lived. Julia sometimes wondered if he were not a creature manufactured and wound up, like Frankenstein, rather than man born of woman, but it was long before she found the clew to his character.
When they returned to Bosquith, Julia had even more freedom than during the weeks devoted25 to the puncturing26 of grouse and pheasant. The women had joined the men for luncheon27 during the grouse season, tramping the moors28 in very short skirts and very thick boots; and in Derbyshire, the coverts not being too far from the house, the men had returned for their midday meal. But the farms, with their turnip29 fields, were many miles from the moors which surrounded the castle of Bosquith; the women showed less enthusiasm; and it was out of the question for the men to return, even in a break, for luncheon. Therefore, did the women, including Mrs. Winstone, sleep late, and Julia found the morning hours her own. She enjoyed her freedom at first in long rides alone, and with no particular object, but in the course of a week she accidentally made the acquaintance of one of the tenants30, Mr. Leggins (the sportsmen had exhausted32 his field and moved on), and she found his somewhat radical33 discourse34 refreshing35 after the undiluted and therefore unargumentative conservatism of the castle’s guests. Mr. Leggins, indeed, when the intimacy36 had progressed, did not hesitate to express himself on the injustice37 of annually38 sacrificing his best fields to the sporting pride of hereditary39 lords of the soil. One argument in England against giving women the vote is that they are all conservatives at heart, but Julia, at least, seated under the mighty40 beams of the old farm-house, with a bowl of bread and milk before her, listening to the old man inveigh41 against the iniquity42 of laws that forced a family like his own to pay rent from generation to generation, a rent which increased with every improvement made by the tenant31, instead of being permitted to buy their land and feel “as good as the next man,” assumed that there was something wrong with the world, and often wondered if she were not in the sixteenth century, when the farm-house had been built; wondered still more why the world progressed so rapidly in some things and remained stationary43 in others. Mr. Leggins, in those early morning hours, told her something of Socialism, and she began to have grave doubts if she should ever become a duchess, if those lagging millions would not suddenly awaken44 and come to the front with a bound.
But these grave questions agitated45 her fleetingly46 at this period, for there were other attractions at the Leggins farm. It embraced a famous ruin, and the farmer kept a small public house of “soft drinks” for its many visitors. This was Julia’s first glimpse of the genus tourist, and its very difference from the guests at the castle entranced her. She often spent the entire morning watching and often talking to strange people with frank inquisitive47 eyes and an amazing thoroughness in exploration. Many had accents undreamed of in her short sojourn48 on this planet. Mr. Leggins called them “Americans,” and Julia sunned herself in their breezy democracy, and resolved to read their history as soon as she returned to London and its public libraries; no recognition of their existence was to be found at Bosquith. Julia had seen several Americans in Ishbel’s shop, but they had been so very elegant, and such good imitations of the British grande dame49, that they had not impressed her.
These short-skirted, “shirt-waisted” people, with flying veils—generally blue—attached precisely50 or rakishly to hats, sailor or alpine51, with faces, more often than not, gay and careless, but sometimes with an anxious line between the brows as if fearful they might “miss something” while photographing even the diamond panes52 of the farm-house windows, thrilled Julia with the sense of a new world to discover, of a country which must be divinely free since it once had snapped its fingers in mighty England’s face, and now elected a President every four years (this much Mr. Leggins had told her), and gave its humblest man a vote. Of the peculiar53 tyrannies which have grown up under the Constitution of the United States (tyrannies impossible under an autocracy) Julia, of course, knew nothing; and although she had no cause to complain of monarchical54 tyranny in Great Britain, she was beginning to feel the stirrings of a dim resentment55 against the insignificance56 of her own estate. Not only had Ishbel talked to her a good deal during the short session of Parliament, but she observed for herself that the duke’s house parties were organized with pointed57 reference to the pleasure and comfort of the male sex. The men were given the best rooms, the board was set with the heavy food necessary to the replenishment58 of their energies, they shot all day long, barely opening their mouths to speak at table, and often went to bed immediately after dinner. The women were invited merely to ornament59 the table and make the men forget their fatigue23, or to amuse them if they felt inclined now and then to vary sport with flirtation60. For these heroic ladies not one amusement during the shooting season was designed; of course they would hunt later. No men were asked save those that shot. Even “old Pirie,” and Lord Algy went out with the guns. Julia wondered why these women came, and finally concluded that some came in search of husbands or lovers, others to keep an eye on husbands or lovers. Some, no doubt, enjoyed the rest at no expense to themselves, but all were frankly61 bored. Now and again Julia, at tea time, heard a woman discourse upon the happy fate of the American woman, who had “things all her own way,” and to whom man was a slave. Listening to the animated62 babble63 about the table in Farmer Leggins’s living room, where the Americans imbibed64 milk, bottled lemon-squash, and sarsaparilla, Julia longed to ask the prettiest of them if they were spoiled wives. France professed65 to adore her madly, but he neither petted nor spoiled her. She was his prize exhibit, his woman, his harem of one, and he was immensely satisfied with his discrimination and his luck. He never even asked her if she were content, if she were bored. What liberty she had she was forced to scheme for, like these visits to the fascinating public house of Farmer Leggins. Had the duke or even Mrs. Winstone seen her sitting at that table, sometimes cutting bread, always talking to people she had never seen before and never would see again, they would have been outraged66; and, no doubt, as the times were too advanced to shut her up, she would have been compelled to ride with a groom67, and give her word to ignore farm-houses (save when votes were wanted), and to speak to no one to whom she had not properly been introduced. But all three of her guardians68 were happily ignorant of her performances, and no mortal ever enjoyed her liberty more, or took a naughtier delight in it.
One morning she was sitting beside Farmer Leggins uncorking bottles and ladling out milk (his son Sam’s wife, who kept house for him, was away), when three people alighted from a carriage who interested her immediately. Not only were the woman and the young girl, and even the boy, dressed more smartly than was common to the tourist in that part of the country, but they suddenly ducked their heads in a peculiar way, and entered the farm-house hat first. The rest of the room was occupied by a party of school-teachers, who invariably wear out their old clothes in Europe, and Julia gave the newcomers her undivided attention. Mr. Leggins also rose with some alacrity69, and placed them at a small table by themselves, waiting until their pleasant voices assured him that they had all their appetites demanded.
“They’re Californians,” whispered Mr. Leggins, as he returned to Julia’s side. (As the reader is now acquainted with every known dialect, it is not necessary to torment70 him with the Yorkshire.) “San Franciscans, to be exact. I always can tell them by the way they put their heads down in a breeze—wind always blows in San Francisco, and it’s second nature to butt71 against it. I know the earmarks of every state in their union—section, at least—and not only by their accents. You can know a Californian because he hasn’t any, but the others would butter bread, except when they happen to have had brass72 long enough to rub it off in Europe. Even then they keep a bit of it. But I know them by other things. This party of school missuses is from what they call ‘the East’; they’ve every one got suspicion in their eyes, and are that close! It’s a wonder they don’t bring scales to weigh my bread. The ‘Middle West’ people are like children, pleased with everything, and crazy about ruins; free with the brass, too. The ‘Southerners’ look as if they ought to be rich and ain’t, but never haggle73. The high-toned ‘Easterners,’ haven’t an exclamation74 point among them, are so polite they make you feel like dirt, pay with gold and count the change. Where on earth is Sam?”
Sam had disappeared shortly after showing the school-teachers over the ruin, and the Californians had risen, manifestly awaiting a guide.
Sam (who occasionally stole away to watch the shooting) was not to be found. Julia volunteered to show the party over the ruin.
“I’d be that grateful!” exclaimed Mr. Leggins; and to the Californians, “There ain’t much to the ruin, and she knows it as well as Sam.”
The lady looked at her curiously75, for the guide wore her habit, and manifestly was not of the house of Leggins, but she expressed herself satisfied, and followed Julia across the bridge that spanned the ditch. The young girl was too weary with much travel for interest in anything, but the youth had already fallen a victim to Julia’s charms, and man?uvred to reach her side. He was a fine-looking lad, tall for his years, which might have been fifteen, with a shock of black hair, keen black-gray eyes, and a dark strongly made face. It was a new-world face, with something of the pioneer, something of the Indian in it, but, oddly enough, almost aggressively modern. Julia had observed him under her lashes76, and wished he were older. Few men tourists came that way, and this boy was of a more marked type than any of them.
“My, but this is bully77!” he exclaimed. “You won’t mind my saying it, but I’ve been watching you for half an hour—couldn’t eat—but—well—I never saw a prettier girl even in California.”
“Then you are a Californian?” asked Julia, much amused. “And a San Franciscan?”
“Now, how can you tell that?”
“Mr. Leggins says you all hold your heads forward on account of the winds—to keep your hats on, I suppose.”
“Jiminy, that’s clever! Fancy an English farmer having sense enough for that. Ours are pretty stupid—perhaps because they live so far apart. This whole island isn’t as big as the state of California.”
“You don’t mean it,” gasped78 Julia, not in the least resenting this characteristic boast.
“And there are real forests in it—primeval.” The youth was delighted with the impression he had made. “Not woods that you can see the horizon from the middle of. Great Scott! this island is cut up. You can’t get rid of the towns, except on these big estates. Why, in the manufacturing districts they tail into one another. In California?—”
“Dan!” said a reproving voice from the rear. “Stop bragging79. This is my brother’s first visit to Europe,” added the lady, with a smile. “And like all Americans in similar circumstances, he observes only to contrast and deprecate. He’ll behave much better on his next visit. That first protest is only defiance80, anyhow—to still the small voice which tells us how new and crude we are in the face of all this antiquity81 and beauty.”
“Oh!” said Julia, smiling. “I fancy that if I visited your country, I should be too awed82 even to feel my own littleness.”
“That is the prettiest speech I ever heard!” The lady extended her hand. “Won’t you tell me your name? Mine is Bode83, and this is my sister, Emily Tay, and my brother, Daniel Tay.”
“I am Mrs. France. It is delightful84 to know your names?—”
“Mrs.!” gasped the boy, his face falling until he looked almost idiotic85; but Mrs. Bode’s eyes sparkled.
“Not of Bosquith?” she asked.
Julia nodded gloomily.
“I have met Mrs. Winstone, and last summer I read all about you when your husband was so ill.”
“Read about me?” Julia’s mouth opened almost as wide as young Tay’s. “Where?”
“Oh, our correspondents don’t let us miss anything, and that was a big plum for the end of the season. I know all about your romantic marriage, and your still more romantic West Indian home.” She had bred herself too carefully to add, “and that you will one day be a duchess”; but the words danced through her mind, and she felt that she was having an adventure. Julia was in no condition to notice any faux pas; her imagination was visualizing86 her insignificant87 self in the columns of a newspaper seven thousand miles away, and she felt a strange thrill, such as what small deferences she had received from servants and toadies88 had never excited in her: the first vague pricking89 of ambition.
“There was a picture of you in the Sunday supplement of one of the papers,” went on Mrs. Bode. “Of course I guessed it wasn’t you—looked suspiciously like one of our own belles90 touched up?—”
“My picture! I’ve never had my picture taken.”
“The more pity,” said Mrs. Bode, with gracious gayety. “I should beg for one as a souvenir, if you had.”
“Gee whiz! My camera!” cried young Tay, recovering himself, and whipping the camera off his shoulder. “Will—would you stand?”
“Of course!” Julia not only had fallen in love with her new friends, but rejoiced in doing something which she instinctively91 knew would annoy her husband. When woman’s ego92 is fumbling93, it is only in these world-old acts of petty and secret vengeance94 that it triumphs for a moment over the sex that has bruised95 it.
She posed, with and without her hat, against the gray walls of the ruin, in a group with Mrs. Bode and Emily, and again with young Tay alone. Then she lit her candle and led them down the winding96 passage to the room where Mary of Scotland was supposed to have slept on her way to Fotheringay. As they emerged once more into the court, she impulsively97 asked them to come that afternoon to the castle for tea.
“I am sure my aunt will be enchanted98 to see you,” she added, “and I can show you over Bosquith, which is much more interesting than this.”
“I’ll be delighted,” said Mrs. Bode; and Julia, who had experienced a moment of fright at her temerity99, took courage again at the American’s matter-of-fact acceptance. Pride also came to her aid. Why should she not ask whom she chose to Bosquith? Was she not its chatelaine? Her aunt was one of her guests, monitress though she might be. To be sure, she had been forbidden to ask Bridgit or Ishbel, but, then, the duke had a personal dislike for both—he now thought Ishbel quite mad and had written her father a letter of condolence; he was hospitable100 in his way, and could find no objection to these delightful travellers that knew Mrs. Winstone.
She blushed and stammered101, “I must ask you not to say anything about my helping102 Mr. Leggins, and being so much at home here?—”
“Of course not!” Mrs. Bode, as she would have expressed it, “twigged instanter.” “We met while exploring the ruins, and got into conversation.”
“You are so kind. And you will come at five—no, four, and then I can show you the castle before tea.”
“We shall be there at four. Thank you so much.”
They parted, mutually delighted with their morning’s adventure, the ladies going to their carriage, and young Tay gallantly103 assisting Julia to mount her horse.
“Jiminy!” he whispered ecstatically. “You’ve got hair! And eyes! Stars ain’t in it! Say, I’m awful glad I’m going to see you again, and I’m awful glad I can take your picture back to California with me!”
He was only fifteen, but Julia blushed as she had never blushed for Nigel. It may be that our future lies in sealed cells in our brains, as all life in the universe, past, present, future, is said to be Now to the Almighty104. Under certain lightning stabs it may be shocked into a second’s premature105 awakening106.
Julia, however, was annoyed with herself, said “Goodby” rather crossly, and rode off.
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1
consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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grouse
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| n.松鸡；v.牢骚，诉苦 | |
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lairs
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| n.（野兽的）巢穴，窝( lair的名词复数 )；（人的）藏身处 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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onerous
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| adj.繁重的 | |
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doles
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| 救济物( dole的名词复数 )； 失业救济金 | |
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legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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prorogued
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| v.使（议会）休会( prorogue的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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coverts
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| n.隐蔽的，不公开的，秘密的( covert的名词复数 )；复羽 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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nibble
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| n.轻咬，啃；v.一点点地咬，慢慢啃，吹毛求疵 | |
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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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puncturing
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| v.在（某物）上穿孔( puncture的现在分词 )；刺穿（某物）；削弱（某人的傲气、信心等）；泄某人的气 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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turnip
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| n.萝卜，芜菁 | |
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tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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inveigh
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| v.痛骂 | |
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iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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45
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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fleetingly
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| adv.飞快地，疾驰地 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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alpine
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| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
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52
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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54
monarchical
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| adj. 国王的，帝王的，君主的，拥护君主制的 =monarchic | |
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55
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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58
replenishment
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| n.补充(货物) | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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imbibed
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| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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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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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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haggle
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| vi.讨价还价，争论不休 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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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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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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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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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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bragging
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的现在分词 )；大话 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bode
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| v.预示 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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visualizing
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| 肉眼观察 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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toadies
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| n.谄媚者，马屁精( toady的名词复数 )v.拍马，谄媚( toady的第三人称单数 ) | |
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pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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belles
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| n.美女( belle的名词复数 )；最美的美女 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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ego
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| n.自我，自己，自尊 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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temerity
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| n.鲁莽，冒失 | |
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100
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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101
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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103
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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104
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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105
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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106
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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