“How very odd!” said the duke, in a tone of manifest annoyance1. “How very odd!”
They were in the library and Julia had imparted her information.
“Not at all,” she replied indifferently. “He would have gone before this, but feared to worry you—thought he would feel better. Last night he was so bad that I put him out of the house.”
“You put Harold out?”
“Yes. That will give you an idea of how he was feeling, when he was willing to mind me!”
“Hm! Why didn’t you go with him? A wife should never leave her husband for a day, particularly when he is ill!”
“We neither thought of that until the last minute—he was so nervous and there was only time to pack and catch the train—I was racking my brain over Bradshaw. I offered to follow, of course, but he said he preferred I should remain and keep our engagements here—he’s developed such a love of society, poor Harold—he seems haunted by the fear that we might drop out—you see, he was once a little wild?—”
“Never really!” said the duke, emphatically. “Why shouldn’t he sow a few oats—a fine young fellow? Not that I approve; but it is natural enough.”
“Of course, poor dear, and he fancies that people think him far worse than he was, and he has an idea that I am useful to him?—”
“Quite so. That is what you charming young wives are for. But I cannot think why Harold should feel obliged to go to Paris. We have heart specialists here.”
“Oh, but no one to compare with—with—Corot. And Harold knows him, you see, and has such confidence in him. He should have gone a week earlier, when—the—ah—thumping began.”
“Thumping? Dear me! Is Harold as bad as that?”
“Oh, it only means that he needs the right kind of tonic—after so long a siege of fever—and all that sport—and the political campaign—you see, he should have had himself looked over sooner; but at Bosquith there was only the country doctor, and then—he hated to leave us. I don’t think he’d have gone this morning if I hadn’t insisted. And he was dreadfully worried for fear you’d be angry.”
“Oh, well,” said the duke, mollified; “after all, he knows his own affairs best. Ah—wait a moment.”
Julia, who was escaping, breathless with the lies she had told, and longing2 for fresh air, halted, and the duke swung round in his chair and laid the fingers of one hand over the back of the other.
“Sit down again for a moment, my dear,” he said, not unkindly, although he had assumed what Julia called his preaching manner and his praying voice.
She sat down on the edge of a chair. The duke resumed.
“There is a matter I have had in my mind since the night of the party. I don’t like to scold you, for in the main you are a very good child and a dutiful wife—really, I have little fault to find with you. But—ah—you must have seen that I was much annoyed when I learned, that without my consent, and in spite of my expressed distaste for those two young women, you had asked them to my house.”
“Of course I knew you would be annoyed.”
“Indeed? I supposed you merely thoughtless!”
“Oh, no.” Julia turned her large brilliant gaze upon the small slate-colored eyes whose dullness was lighting3 with indignation. “I told you—perhaps you have forgotten—that as you have made me your hostess, and expect me to devote a large part of my energies to acquitting4 myself creditably, I feel that the position carries with it certain rights. So I invited my best friends.”
“But you knew that I disapproved5 of them!”
“Without reason. They are of your own class, and their reputations are immaculate. Why should I snub my friends? The invitations went out in the names of all three of us.”
“That has nothing to do with it. I do not wish you to associate with these young women. Their tendencies are dangerous. They have stepped out of their class and must take the consequences. Old orders would not change if men were firmer—When Harold returns I shall ask him to put his foot down. I cannot expect you to obey me, but you are bound to obey your husband.”
“I shall not in the matter of my friends. I have told him that if he interferes6 with me in any way, I’ll leave him and go into Ishbel’s shop.”
“WHAT?”
The duke half rose from his chair, then fell back, gasping7. Where was the responsive amenable8 child of two summers agone?
The child continued. “Yes, I am doing my best. I am a dutiful wife, and I try to look and act” (she almost said “like a future duchess,” but her nimble mind leaped aside in time) “as if I had been entertaining all my life. I listen to Lady Arabella’s lectures, and Aunt Maria’s, to say nothing of yours and Harold’s. Even Lady Arabella says I’ve done very well. But I have a few rights of my own, and if I’m interfered9 with I’ll do as I said. I don’t care so much for all this. I’d rather be free like Ishbel.”
“You have no comprehension of the duties of a wife,” gasped10 the outraged11 duke, “or of your position. That a member of my family?—”
“It is not so much that I am asking. Lots of women have lovers?—”
“Lovers!” The duke almost strangled. “What does a child like you know about lovers? And in my house—you have never heard such a subject mentioned.”
“Oh? I can tell you that a lot of the women that have visited us?—”
“Hush! I shall listen to no insinuations about my guests. You wicked little thing!”
“No. I was about to tell you that I’ve no intention of being wicked. I should hate a lover.”
“Indeed! I am happy to be reassured12.” The duke always felt at his best when sarcastic13, and he sat erect14 and looked severely15 at this naughty child who did not in the least comprehend what she was talking about.
“You are too young to argue with,” he said. “Not that I should ever think of arguing with a woman of any age. As regards Bridgit Herbert and Ishbel Jones, if your husband upholds you in your friendship with them I have nothing further to say except that I absolutely refuse to have them in my house again. But if Harold does not—this is what you must understand once for all: your husband’s word is law.”
Julia smiled.
“What do you mean?” The duke had a curious sinking in the pit of his stomach, and wondered if he too should not consult a specialist.
“You men are so funny.”
“Funny! Madam!”
“Yes, that is the word. Ishbel told me they were when I first came over, and I’ve found it out since for myself.”
“Funny!”
“Terribly funny.”
“If you don’t explain yourself—”
“I mean—for one thing—just one!—that you never find out we have our own way in spite of you. You think you are tyrants17, and there isn’t one of you that can’t be led round by the nose—managed. Well, I don’t like that method. I won’t bother to manage any man. You’re not worth the trouble, and it’s a confession18 of inferiority on our part, anyhow. The more I see of you, the less inferior I feel. Besides, I enjoy speaking out, having things understood without a lot of beating round the bush. I’ve discovered that I’ve good fighting blood, and I’ve learned that women have plenty of resources outside of husbands; all that is necessary is to find the courage and the energy to enjoy them. But so many don’t. They’re all in love with one thing or another—husbands, lovers, society, fine houses, clothes, luxury—so they ‘manage’; and it has spoiled men, flattered them for centuries that they were the stronger and wiser sex; and, of course, demoralized women. No one can expand without the courage that comes of being able to speak the truth. Men can afford to be truthful19 whether they are or not, so they have gone ahead of us. I shall become demoralized all right, but not in that way. Not in any way that I can help. I shan’t lie—for myself—and I shan’t employ crooked20 methods. My mother told me to marry, and I did, because at that time I thought it right and natural to obey. Besides, I suppose one man’s much the same as another. I am resigned. I shan’t cry as some women do. One woman down at Bosquith last summer used to come into my room when I wanted to sleep, and cry out, ‘I hate life! Oh, how I hate life!’ She was afraid her husband would find out about her lover and she was sick of the lover besides. Now she has a new lover?—”
“Hold your tongue!” The duke for once in his life thundered. “I forbid you to say another word?—”
“Oh, I’m not very much interested in those things. What I intended to say was that I’ll do my duty, since married I am, but I’ll also do as I choose in some things. You can’t stop me. You might have done so in the days when Bosquith was built, but a lot of you seem to forget that times have changed—they change every minute, if you did but know it.”
“So it seems! I should think they did! Great heaven!”
The duke paused a moment as if he expected heaven to respond. Receiving no inspiration, he concluded with dignity: “I must think this matter over. You may go.”
Julia almost ran out of the library and up to her own room. Then could the duke have seen her he would first have received another shock, then misinterpreted what he saw, and plumed21 himself. For Julia sat down and wept. She had lied hideously22, worse still, glibly23. And for the first time she quite realized that of late she had developed a poise24, a fertility of resource in dealing25 with the mean tyrant16 that dwelt in the men to whom she was almost subject, that for the moment horrified26 her. Was it true that she was growing hard? She wished she had talked more confidentially27 with Nigel instead of flippantly dancing away from the subject. Was she no longer young? She had a real passion for truth. Were there to be no conditions in which she could indulge it? She glanced back over the past two years. There had been a time when she spoke28 the literal truth on all occasions; now she spoke it when it was feasible, or impressive, but rarely without forethought. It was seldom that she let herself go. She felt a hatred29 of civilization stir, wondered if in the whole planetary system there was a world where truth was the standard, where every man was himself, where the petty lies which made the great ones inevitable30 were unknown. A prophetic ray suggested that such conditions might involve complications unless human nature itself were of a new brand; but she was not in the mood to follow the thought to its logical finish. She wanted freedom here, and it appeared to be impossible of attainment31. But at least she would strive for independence. To both of the men who shadowed her life she had read what the Americans called the riot act. That, at least, was something accomplished32. She could not be accused of deceit, despised because she paid the tribute of her sex to their superiority.
Suddenly her spirits darted33 upward on wings. She was free of her husband for a week, perhaps longer. She bathed her eyes and danced about the room. But when she realized the source of her exultation34 she turned hastily from it, dressed, and went to Ishbel’s shop.
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1
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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acquitting
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的现在分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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interferes
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| vi. 妨碍，冲突，干涉 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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8
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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9
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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10
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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11
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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12
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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13
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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15
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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16
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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tyrants
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| 专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 )； 暴君似的人； （古希腊的）僭主； 严酷的事物 | |
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18
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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20
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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21
plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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28
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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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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30
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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31
attainment
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| n.达到，到达；［常pl.］成就，造诣 | |
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32
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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33
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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34
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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