"Have you or Herbert heard anything from George during the last few weeks?" she asked.
Sylvia turned languidly. Her thoughts had been fixed5 on Captain Bland6, whom she was expecting every moment. Indeed, she was anxious to get rid of Ethel before he came in.
"No," she said with indifference7. "I think his last letter came a month ago. It was optimistic."
"They seem to have had a good harvest from what Edgar wrote; he hinted that he might make a trip across."
"It's rather an expensive journey."
"That wouldn't trouble Edgar, and there's a reason for the visit. He has made up his mind to start farming and wants to talk over his plans. In fact, he thinks of getting married."
Sylvia showed some interest.
"To whom? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I only arrived this morning, and I wrote some time ago, asking if you could meet Stephen and me. You were with the Graysons then, but you didn't answer."
"I forgot; I don't always answer letters. But who is the girl? Not
Miss Grant?"
"Helen Taunton. Do you know her?"
Sylvia laughed.
"The storekeeper's daughter! She's passably good-looking and her father's not badly off, but that's about all one could say for her."
"Do you know anything against the girl?"
"Oh, no!" said Sylvia languidly. "She's quite respectable—in fact, they're rather a straight-laced people; and she doesn't talk badly. For all that, I think you'll get a shock if Edgar brings her home."
"That is not George's opinion. We wrote to him."
Sylvia laughed.
"He would believe in anybody who looked innocent and pretty."
Ethel's expression hardened; Sylvia had not been considerate.
"I don't think that's true. He's generous, and though he has made mistakes, it was only because his confidence was misled with a highly finished skill. One wouldn't look for the same ability in a girl brought up in a primitive8 western town."
"After all," said Sylvia tranquilly9, "she is a girl, and no doubt Edgar is worth powder and shot from her point of view."
"It doesn't seem to be a commercial one," Ethel retorted. "Stephen had a very straightforward10 letter from this storekeeper. But I'm inclined to think I had better go on with my writing."
Sylvia moved away. She had no reason for being gracious to Ethel, and she took some pleasure in irritating her.
In a few minutes Bland came in. The hall was large, and Ethel was hidden from him in the recess. He strode toward Sylvia eagerly, but she checked him with a gesture.
"You have come back early," she said. "Wasn't the sport good? What has become of Kettering and the others?"
The man looked a little surprised. This was hardly the greeting he had expected, after having been promised a quiet half-hour with Sylvia; but, looking round, he saw the skirt of Ethel's dress and understood. Had it been George she wished to warn, she would have used different means; but Bland, she was thankful, was not hypercritical.
"The sport was poor," he told her. "The pheasants aren't very strong yet, and it was hard to drive them out of the covers. As I'd only a light water-proof, I got rather wet outside the last wood and I left the others. Kettering wanted to see the keeper about to-morrow's beat, but I didn't wait."
"Since you have been in the rain all day, you had better have some tea," said Sylvia. "They'll bring it here, if you ring."
He followed her to a small table across the hall, and after a tray had been set before them they sat talking in low voices. Presently Bland laid his hand on Sylvia's arm.
"You know why I came down," he said. "I must go back to-morrow and I want the announcement made before I leave."
Sylvia blushed and lowered her eyes.
"Oh, well," she conceded, "you have really been very patient, and perhaps it would be hardly fair to make you wait any longer."
Bland took her hand and held it fast.
"You are worth waiting for! But there were times when it was very hard not to rebel. I'd have done so, only I was afraid."
"You did rebel."
"Not to much purpose. Though no one would suspect it from your looks, you're a very determined11 person, Sylvia. Now I don't know how to express my feelings; I want to do something dramatic, even if it's absurd, and I can't even speak aloud. Couldn't you have got rid of Miss West by some means?"
"How could I tell what you wished to say?" Sylvia asked with a shy smile. "Besides, Ethel wouldn't go. She stuck there in the most determined fashion!"
"Then we'll have to disregard her. It must be early next year, Sylvia.
I'll see Lansing to-morrow."
He continued in a quietly exultant12 strain, and Sylvia felt relieved that her fate was decided13. She had some time ago led him to believe she would marry him; but she had, with vague misgivings14 and prompted by half-understood reasons, put off a definite engagement. Now she had given her pledge, and though she thought of George with faint regret, she was on the whole conscious of satisfaction. Bland, she believed, had a good deal to offer her which she could not have enjoyed with his rival.
Presently a servant brought Ethel something on a salver, and a few moments later she approached the other two with a telegram in her hand.
"I thought I had better tell you, Sylvia," she explained. "Stephen has just got a letter from Edgar, written a day or two before he sailed. He should arrive on Saturday, and George is with him."
Sylvia had not expected this and she was off her guard. She started, and sat looking at Ethel incredulously, with something like consternation15.
"It's quite true," said Ethel bluntly. "He'll be here in three more days."
Then Sylvia recovered her composure.
"In that case, I'll have to let Muriel know at once; he'll go straight there, and she's staying with Lucy. Perhaps I had better telegraph."
She rose and left them; and Bland sought Mrs. Kettering and acquainted her of his engagement, and begged her to make it known, which she promised to do. He failed to find Sylvia until she was coming down to dinner, when she beckoned16 him.
"Have you told Susan yet?" she asked.
"Yes," Bland beamed; "I told her at once. I should have liked to go about proclaiming the delightful17 news!"
Sylvia looked disturbed; Bland could almost have fancied she was angry.
As a matter of fact, troubled thoughts were flying through her mind.
It was obvious that she would shortly be called upon to face a crisis.
"After all," she said, with an air of resignation which struck him as out of place, "I suppose you had to do so; but you lost no time."
"Not a moment!" he assured her. "I felt I couldn't neglect anything that brought you nearer to me."
Then they went on, and meeting the other guests in the hall, Sylvia acknowledged the shower of congratulations with a smiling face. She escaped after dinner, however, without a sign to Bland, and did not reappear. During the evening, he found Ethel West sitting alone in a quiet nook.
"Mrs. Marston seemed a little disturbed at the news you gave her," he remarked.
"So I thought," said Ethel.
"I suppose the George you mentioned is her trustee, who went to Canada and took your brother? You once told me something about him."
"Yes," said Ethel. "You seem to have the gift of arriving at correct conclusions."
"He's an elderly man—a business man of his cousin's stamp—I presume?"
Ethel laughed.
"Oh, no; they're of very different type. I should imagine that he's younger than you are. He was at Herbert's one afternoon when you called."
"Ah!" said Bland. "I shall, no doubt, get to know him when next I come down."
Then he talked about other matters until he left her, and after a while he found Kettering alone.
"Did you ever meet George Lansing?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," said his host. "I know his cousin better."
"He has been out in Canada, hasn't he?"
"Yes; went out to look after Mrs. Marston's property. I understand he has been more or less successful."
"When did he leave England?"
Kettering told him, and Bland considered.
"So Lansing has been out, and no doubt going to a good deal of trouble, for two years," he said. "That's something beyond an ordinary executor's duty. What made him undertake it?"
Kettering smiled.
"It's an open secret—you're bound to hear it—that he had an admiration18 for Sylvia. Still, there's no ground for jealousy19. Lansing hadn't a chance from the beginning."
Bland concealed20 his feelings.
"How is that? He must be an unusually good fellow if he stayed out there to look after things so long."
"For one reason, he's not Sylvia's kind. It was quite out of the question that she should ever have married him."
Feeling that he had, perhaps, said too much, Kettering began to talk of the next day's sport; and soon afterward21 Bland left him and went out on the terrace to smoke and ponder. Putting what he had learned together, he thought he understood the situation, and it was not a pleasant one, though he was not very indignant with Sylvia. It looked as if she made an unfair use of Lansing's regard for her, unless, in spite of Kettering's opinion, she had until lately been undecided how to choose between them. Nevertheless, Bland could not feel that he had now been rudely undeceived, for he had always recognized some of Sylvia's failings. He did not expect perfection; and he could be generous, when he had won.
He asked Sylvia no injudicious questions when they met the next morning, and during the day he called on Herbert Lansing, who was back in his office. The latter heard him explain his errand with somewhat mixed feelings, for there were certain rather troublesome facts that must be mentioned.
"Well," he said, "I have, of course, no objections to make; but, as one of her trustees, it's my duty to look after Sylvia's interests. As you know, she is not rich."
"I suppose these points must he talked over," Bland said, with indifference.
"It's usual, and in the present case, necessary. What provision are you able to make?"
Bland looked a little uncomfortable. "As a matter of fact, I'd find it difficult to make any provision. I get along fairly well, as it is, but I've only about four hundred a year besides my pay."
"How far does your pay go?" Herbert asked dryly.
"It covers my mess bills and a few expenses of that nature."
Herbert leaned back in his chair with a smile.
"Hasn't it struck you that you should have chosen a wife with money?"
"Now," said Bland rather sternly, "I don't want to lie open to any misconception, but I understood that Mrs. Marston had some means. I'm quite prepared to hear they're small."
"That's fortunate, because it may save you a shock. Sylvia owns a farm in Canada, which did not repay the cost of working it last year. During the present one there has been an improvement, and we expect a small surplus on the two years' operations. The place has been valued at—but perhaps I had better give you a few figures, showing you how matters stand."
Opening a drawer, he handed a paper to Bland, who studied it with a sense of dismay.
"I'll confess that this is an unpleasant surprise," he said at length; and then, while Herbert waited, he pulled himself together with a laugh. "After that admission, I must add that the mistake is the result of my having a sanguine22 imagination; Sylvia scarcely mentioned her Canadian property. Now, however, there's only one thing to be done—to face the situation as cheerfully as possible."
"It can't be an altogether attractive one." Herbert admired his courage and the attitude he had adopted.
"I shall certainly have to economize," Bland admitted; "and that is a thing I'm not accustomed to; but I may get some appointment, and by and by a small share in some family property will revert23 to me. Though I must go straight back to my garrison24 duties now, I'll come down for an hour or two and explain things to Sylvia, as soon as I can." He paused and broke into a faint smile. "I dare say the surprise will be mutual25; she may have believed my means to be larger than they are."
"I should consider it very possible," replied Herbert dryly. "As I must see Sylvia, I'll give her an idea how matters stand and clear the ground for you."
Bland said that he would be glad of this; and after some further conversation he took his leave and walked to the station, disturbed in mind, but conscious of a little ironical26 amusement. There was no doubt that Sylvia had cleverly deluded27 him, but he admitted that he had done much the same thing to her. Had he realized the true state of her affairs at the beginning he would have withdrawn28; but he had no thought of doing so now. It was obvious that Sylvia's principles were not very high, and he regretted it, although he could not claim much superiority in this respect. He was tolerant and, after all, she had a charm that atoned29 for many failings.
It was three or four days later when he arrived at Mrs. Kettering's house one evening and found Sylvia awaiting him in a room reserved for her hostess's use. She was very becomingly dressed and looked, he thought, even more attractive than usual. She submitted to his caress30 with an air of resignation, but he augured31 a good deal from the fact that she did not repulse32 him. As it happened, Sylvia had carefully thought over the situation.
"Sit down," she said; "I want to talk with you."
"I think I'll stand. It's more difficult to feel penitent33 in a comfortable position. It looks as if you had seen Herbert Lansing."
"I have." Sylvia's tone was harsh. "What have you to say for yourself?"
"Not a great deal, which is fortunate, because I haven't much time to say it in," Bland told her with a smile. "To begin with, I'll state the unflattering truth—it strikes me that, in one way, we're each as bad as the other. I suppose it's one of my privileges to mention such facts to you, though I'd never think of admitting them to anybody else."
"It's a husband's privilege," Sylvia rejoined pointedly34. "Don't be premature35."
"Well," said Bland, "I can only make one defense36, but I think you ought to realize how strong it is. We were thrown into each other's society, and it isn't in the least surprising that I lost my head and was carried away. My power of reasoning went when I fell in love with you."
"That sounds pretty, but it's unfortunate you didn't think of me a little more," pouted37 Sylvia.
"Think of you?" Bland broke out. "I thought of nothing else!"
"Then it wasn't to much purpose. Don't you see what you want to bring me to? Can't you realize what I should have to give up? How could we ever manage on the little we have?"
The man frowned. He was sorry for her and somewhat ashamed, but she jarred on him in her present mood.
"I believe people who were sufficiently38 fond of each other have often got along pretty satisfactorily on less, even in the Service. It's a matter of keen regret to me that you will have to make a sacrifice, but things are not quite so bad as they look, and there's reason for believing they may get better. You will have as pleasant society as you enjoy now; my friends will stand by my wife." A look of pride crept into his face. "I dare say they have their failings, but they'll only expect charm from you, and you can give it to them. They won't value you by the display you make or your possessions. We're free from that taint39."
"But have you considered what you must give up?"
Bland had hardly expected this, but he smiled.
"Oh, yes. I spent an evening over it and I was a little surprised to find how many things there were I could readily do without. In fact, it was a most instructive evening. The next day I wrote a bundle of letters, resigning from clubs I rarely went to, and canceling orders for odds40 and ends I hadn't the least real use for. But I'll confess that I've derived41 a good deal more pleasure from thinking of how much I shall get."
Sylvia was touched, but she did not mean to yield too readily.
"It would be dreadfully imprudent."
"Just so; one has often to take a risk. It's rather exciting to fling prudence42 overboard. I want to fix my whole attention on the fact that we love each other!" Bland glanced at his watch. "Now it strikes me that we have been sufficiently practical, and as I must start back to-night, I haven't much time left. Don't you think it would be a pity to waste it?"
He drew her down beside him on a lounge and Sylvia surrendered. After all, the man had made a good defense and, as far as her nature permitted, she had grown fond of him.
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1
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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2
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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3
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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4
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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5
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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6
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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7
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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8
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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9
tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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10
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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11
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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12
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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13
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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14
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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15
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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16
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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18
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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19
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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20
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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21
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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22
sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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23
revert
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| v.恢复，复归，回到 | |
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24
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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25
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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26
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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27
deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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29
atoned
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| v.补偿，赎（罪）( atone的过去式和过去分词 )；补偿，弥补，赎回 | |
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30
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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31
augured
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| v.预示，预兆，预言( augur的过去式和过去分词 )；成为预兆；占卜 | |
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32
repulse
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| n.击退，拒绝；vt.逐退，击退，拒绝 | |
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33
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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34
pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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35
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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36
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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37
pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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39
taint
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| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
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40
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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41
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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42
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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