CHAPTER LIX "The First and the Last"

When Mr. Wharton was in Coleman Street, having his final interview with Mr. Hartlepod, there came a visitor to Mrs. Lopez in Manchester Square. Up to this date there had been great doubt with Mr. Wharton whether at last the banishment¹ to Guatemala would become a fact. From day to day his mind had changed. It had been an infinite benefit that Lopez should go, if he could be got to go alone, but as great an evil if at last he should take his wife with him. But the father had never dared to express these doubts to her, and she had taught herself to think that absolute banishment with a man whom she certainly no longer loved, was the punishment she had to pay for the evil she had done. It was now March, and the second or third of April had been fixed² for her departure. Of course, she had endeavoured from time to time to learn all that was to be learned from her husband. Sometimes he would be almost communicative to her; at other times she could get hardly a word from him. But, through it all, he gave her to believe that she would have to go. Nor did her father make any great effort to turn his mind the other way. If it must be so, of what use would be such false kindness on his part? She had therefore gone to work to make her purchases, studying that economy which must henceforth be the great duty of her life, and reminding herself as to everything she bought that it would have to be worn with tears and used in sorrow.

And then she sent a message to Arthur Fletcher. It so happened that Sir Alured Wharton was up in London at this time with his daughter Mary. Sir Alured did not come to Manchester Square. There was nothing that the old baronet could say in the midst of all this misery³,—no comfort that he could give. It was well-known now to all the Whartons and all the Fletchers that this Lopez, who had married her who was to have been the pearl of the two families, had proved himself to be a scoundrel. The two old Whartons met no doubt at some club, or perhaps in Stone Buildings, and spoke⁴ some few bitter words to each other; but Sir Alured did not see the unfortunate young woman who had disgraced herself by so wretched a marriage. But Mary came, and by her a message was sent to Arthur Fletcher. "Tell him that I am going," said Emily. "Tell him not to come; but give him my love. He was always one of my kindest friends."

"Why,—why,—why did you not take him?" said Mary, moved by the excitement of the moment to suggestions which were quite at variance⁵ with the fixed propriety⁶ of her general ideas.

"Why should you speak of that?" said the other. "I never speak of him,—never think of him. But, if you see him, tell him what I say." Arthur Fletcher was of course in the Square on the following day,—on that very day on which Mr. Wharton learned that, whatever might be his daughter's fate, she would not, at any rate, be taken to Guatemala. They two had never met since the day on which they had been brought together for a moment at the Duchess's party at Richmond. It had of course been understood by both of them that they were not to be allowed to see each other. Her husband had made a pretext⁷ of an act of friendship on his part to establish a quarrel, and both of them had been bound by that quarrel. When a husband declares that his wife shall not know a man, that edict must be obeyed,—or, if disobeyed, must be subverted⁸ by intrigue⁹. In this case there had been no inclination¹⁰ to intrigue on either side. The order had been obeyed, and as far as the wife was concerned, had been only a small part of the terrible punishment which had come upon her as the result of her marriage. But now, when Arthur Fletcher sent up his name, she did not hesitate as to seeing him. No doubt she had thought it probable that she might see him when she gave her message to her cousin.

"I could not let you go without coming to you," he said.

"It is very good of you. Yes;—I suppose we are going. Guatemala sounds a long way off, Arthur, does it not? But they tell me it is a beautiful country." She spoke with a cheerful voice, almost as though she liked the idea of her journey; but he looked at her with beseeching¹¹, anxious, sorrow-laden eyes. "After all, what is a journey of a few weeks? Why should I not be as happy in Guatemala as in London? As to friends, I do not know that it will make much difference,—except papa."

"It seems to me to make a difference," said he.

"I never see anybody now,—neither your people, nor the Wharton Whartons. Indeed, I see nobody. If it were not for papa I should be glad to go. I am told that it is a charming country. I have not found Manchester Square very charming. I am inclined to think that all the world is very much alike, and that it does not matter very much where one lives,—or, perhaps, what one does. But at any rate I am going, and I am very glad to be able to say good-bye to you before I start." All this she said rapidly, in a manner unlike herself. She was forcing herself to speak so that she might save herself, if possible, from breaking down in his presence.

"Of course I came when Mary told me."

"Yes;—she was here. Sir Alured did not come. I don't wonder at that, however. And your mother was in town some time ago,—but I didn't expect her to come. Why should they come? I don't know whether you might not have better stayed away. Of course I am a Pariah¹² now; but Pariah as I am, I shall be as good as any one else in Guatemala. You have seen Everett since he has been in town, perhaps?"

"Yes;—I have seen him."

"I hope they won't quarrel with Everett because of what I have done. I have felt that more than all,—that both papa and he have suffered because of it. Do you know, I think people are hard. They might have thrown me off without being unkind to them. It is that that has killed me, Arthur;—that they should have suffered." He sat looking at her, not knowing how to interrupt her, or what to say. There was much that he meant to say, but he did not know how to begin it, or how to frame his words. "When I am gone, perhaps, it will be all right," she continued. "When he told me that I was to go, that was my comfort. I think I have taught myself to think nothing of myself, to bear it all as a necessity, to put up with it, whatever it may be, as men bear thirst in the desert. Thank God, Arthur, I have no baby to suffer with me. Here,—here, it is still very bad. When I think of papa creeping in and out of his house, I sometimes feel that I must kill myself. But our going will put an end to all that. It is much better that we should go. I wish we might start to-morrow." Then she looked up at him, and saw that the tears were running down his face, and as she looked she heard his sobs¹³. "Why should you cry, Arthur? He never cries,—nor do I. When baby died I cried,—but very little. Tears are vain, foolish things. It has to be borne, and there is an end of it. When one makes up one's mind to that, one does not cry. There was a poor woman here the other day whose husband he had ruined. She wept and bewailed herself till I pitied her almost more than myself;—but then she had children."

"Oh, Emily!"

"You mustn't call me by my name, because he would be angry. I have to do, you know, as he tells me. And I do so strive to do it! Through it all I have an idea that if I do my duty it will be better for me. There are things, you know, which a husband may tell you to do, but you cannot do. If he tells me to rob, I am not to rob;—am I? And now I think of it, you ought not to be here. He would be very much displeased¹⁴. But it has been so pleasant once more to see an old friend."

"I care nothing for his anger," said Arthur moodily¹⁵.

"Ah, but I do. I have to care for it."

"Leave him! Why don't you leave him?"

"What!"

"You cannot deceive me. You do not try to deceive me. You know that he is altogether unworthy of you."

"I will hear nothing of the kind, sir."

"How can I speak otherwise when you yourself tell me of your own misery? Is it possible that I should not know what he is? Would you have me pretend to think well of him?"

"You can hold your tongue, Arthur."

"No;—I cannot hold my tongue. Have I not held my tongue ever since you married? And if I am to speak at all, must I not speak now?"

"There is nothing to be said that can serve us at all."

"Then it shall be said without serving. When I bid you leave him, it is not that you may come to me. Though I love you better than all the world put together, I do not mean that."

"Oh, Arthur, Arthur!"

"But let your father save you. Only tell him that you will stay with him, and he will do it. Though I should never see you again, I could hope to protect you. Of course, I know,—and you know. He is—a scoundrel!"

"I will not hear it," said she, rising from her seat on the sofa with her hands up to her forehead, but still coming nearer to him as she moved.

"Does not your father say the same thing? I will advise nothing that he does not advise. I would not say a word to you that he might not hear. I do love you. I have always loved you. But do you think that I would hurt you with my love?"

"No;—no;—no!"

"No, indeed;—but I would have you feel that those who loved you of old are still anxious for your welfare. You said just now that you had been neglected."

"I spoke of papa and Everett. For myself,—of course I have separated myself from everybody."

"Never from me. You may be ten times his wife, but you cannot separate yourself from me. Getting up in the morning and going to bed at night I still tell myself that you are the one woman that I love. Stay with us, and you shall be honoured,—as that man's wife of course, but still as the dearest friend we have."

"I cannot stay," she said. "He has told me that I am to go, and I am in his hands. When you have a wife, Arthur, you will wish her to do your bidding. I hope she will do it for your sake, without the pain I have in doing his. Good-bye, dear friend."

She put her hand out and he grasped it, and stood for a moment looking at her. Then he seized her in his arms and kissed her brow and her lips. "Oh, Emily, why were you not my wife? My darling, my darling!"

She had hardly extricated¹⁶ herself when the door opened, and Lopez stood in the room. "Mr. Fletcher," he said, very calmly, "what is the meaning of this?"

"He has come to bid me farewell," said Emily. "When going on so long a journey one likes to see one's old friends,—perhaps for the last time." There was something of indifference¹⁷ to his anger in her tone, and something also of scorn.

Lopez looked from one to the other, affecting an air of great displeasure. "You know, sir," he said, "that you cannot be welcome here."

"But he has been welcome," said his wife.

"And I look upon your coming as a base act. You are here with the intention of creating discord¹⁸ between me and my wife."

"I am here to tell her that she has a friend to trust to if she ever wants a friend," said Fletcher.

"And you think that such trust as that would be safer than trust in her husband? I cannot turn you out of this house, sir, because it does not belong to me, but I desire you to leave at once the room which is occupied by my wife." Fletcher paused a moment to say good-bye to the poor woman, while Lopez continued with increased indignation, "If you do not go at once you will force me to desire her to retire. She shall not remain in the same room with you."

"Good-bye, Mr. Fletcher," she said, again putting out her hand.

But Lopez struck it up, not violently, so as to hurt her, but still with eager roughness. "Not in my presence," he said. "Go, sir, when I desire you."

"God bless you, my friend," said Arthur Fletcher. "I pray that I may live to see you back in the old country."

"He was—kissing you," said Lopez, as soon as the door was shut.

"He was," said Emily.

"And you tell me so to my face, with such an air as that!"

"What am I to tell you when you ask me? I did not bid him kiss me."

"But afterwards you took his part as his friend."

"Why not? I should lie to you if I pretended that I was angry with him for what he did."

"Perhaps you will tell me that you love him."

"Of course I love him. There are different kinds of love, Ferdinand. There is that which a woman gives to a man when she would fain mate with him. It is the sweetest love of all, if it would only last. And there is another love,—which is not given, but which is won, perhaps through long years, by old friends. I have none older than Arthur Fletcher, and none who are dearer to me."

"And you think it right that he should take you in his arms and kiss you?"

"On such an occasion I could not blame him."

"You were ready enough to receive it, perhaps."

"Well; I was. He has loved me well, and I shall never see him again. He is very dear to me, and I was parting from him for ever. It was the first and the last, and I did not grudge¹⁹ it to him. You must remember, Ferdinand, that you are taking me across the world from all my friends."

"Psha," he said, "that is all over. You are not going anywhere that I know of,—unless it be out into the streets when your father shuts his door on you." And so saying he left the room without another word.

1 banishment   

n.放逐，驱逐

参考例句：

• Qu Yuan suffered banishment as the victim of a court intrigue. 屈原成为朝廷中钩心斗角的牺牲品，因而遭到放逐。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》
• He was sent into banishment. 他被流放。 来自辞典例句

2 fixed   

adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的

参考例句：

• Have you two fixed on a date for the wedding yet?你们俩选定婚期了吗？
• Once the aim is fixed,we should not change it arbitrarily.目标一旦确定，我们就不应该随意改变。

3 misery   

n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦

参考例句：

• Business depression usually causes misery among the working class.商业不景气常使工薪阶层受苦。
• He has rescued me from the mire of misery.他把我从苦海里救了出来。

4 spoke   

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

参考例句：

• They sourced the spoke nuts from our company.他们的轮辐螺帽是从我们公司获得的。
• The spokes of a wheel are the bars that connect the outer ring to the centre.辐条是轮子上连接外圈与中心的条棒。

5 variance   

n.矛盾，不同

参考例句：

• The question of woman suffrage sets them at variance. 妇女参政的问题使他们发生争执。
• It is unnatural for brothers to be at variance. 兄弟之间不睦是不近人情的。

6 propriety   

n.正当行为；正当；适当

参考例句：

• We hesitated at the propriety of the method.我们对这种办法是否适用拿不定主意。
• The sensitive matter was handled with great propriety.这件机密的事处理得极为适当。

7 pretext   

n.借口，托词

参考例句：

• He used his headache as a pretext for not going to school.他借口头疼而不去上学。
• He didn't attend that meeting under the pretext of sickness.他以生病为借口，没参加那个会议。

8 subverted   

v.颠覆，破坏（政治制度、宗教信仰等）( subvert的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某人）道德败坏或不忠

参考例句：

• Their wills could be subverted only by death. 只有死神才能使他们放弃他们的意志。 来自教父部分
• Indiana State laws deliberately subverted the intent of the constitutions 14th Amendment. 印第安纳州的法律有意歪曲联邦宪法第十四条修正案的愿意。 来自辞典例句

9 intrigue   

vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋

参考例句：

• Court officials will intrigue against the royal family.法院官员将密谋反对皇室。
• The royal palace was filled with intrigue.皇宫中充满了勾心斗角。

10 inclination   

n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好

参考例句：

• She greeted us with a slight inclination of the head.她微微点头向我们致意。
• I did not feel the slightest inclination to hurry.我没有丝毫着急的意思。

11 beseeching   

adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 )

参考例句：

• She clung to her father, beseeching him for consent. 她紧紧挨着父亲，恳求他答应。 来自辞典例句
• He casts a beseeching glance at his son. 他用恳求的眼光望着儿子。 来自辞典例句

12 pariah   

n.被社会抛弃者

参考例句：

• Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village.不一会儿，汤姆碰上了村里的少年弃儿。
• His landlady had treated him like a dangerous criminal,a pariah.房东太太对待他就像对待危险的罪犯、对待社会弃儿一样。

13 sobs   

啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 )

参考例句：

• She was struggling to suppress her sobs. 她拼命不让自己哭出来。
• She burst into a convulsive sobs. 她突然抽泣起来。

14 displeased   

a.不快的

参考例句：

• The old man was displeased and darted an angry look at me. 老人不高兴了，瞪了我一眼。
• He was displeased about the whole affair. 他对整个事情感到很不高兴。

15 moodily   

adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地

参考例句：

• Pork slipped from the room as she remained staring moodily into the distance. 阿宝从房间里溜了出来，留她独个人站在那里瞪着眼睛忧郁地望着远处。 来自辞典例句
• He climbed moodily into the cab, relieved and distressed. 他忧郁地上了马车，既松了一口气，又忧心忡忡。 来自互联网

16 extricated   

v.使摆脱困难，脱身( extricate的过去式和过去分词 )

参考例句：

• The meeting seemed to be endless, but I extricated myself by saying I had to catch a plane. 会议好象没完没了，不过我说我得赶飞机，才得以脱身。 来自《简明英汉词典》
• She extricated herself from her mingled impulse to deny and guestion. 她约束了自己想否认并追问的不可明状的冲动。 来自辞典例句

17 indifference   

n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎

参考例句：

• I was disappointed by his indifference more than somewhat.他的漠不关心使我很失望。
• He feigned indifference to criticism of his work.他假装毫不在意别人批评他的作品。

18 discord   

n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐

参考例句：

• These two answers are in discord.这两个答案不一样。
• The discord of his music was hard on the ear.他演奏的不和谐音很刺耳。

19 grudge   

n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做

参考例句：

• I grudge paying so much for such inferior goods.我不愿花这么多钱买次品。
• I do not grudge him his success.我不嫉妒他的成功。