A happy influence properly exercised at this time would have been immediately beneficial to Alice Schr?der, and have brought matters back into the right course. For instance, ten minutes' walk with Barbara Churchill would have settled the question; for Barbara was to Alice that one grand idol28 whom we all of us (although we change them at different periods of our lives) set up and worship. And Barbara had not derogated one whit29 from her high position in Alice's estimation by her marriage. It was exactly the thing that she imagined a girl of her friend's high spirit would do, if pressed to it; there was something romantic in it, savouring of the legends of the high dames30 of old, who gave themselves to poets after scorning kings; and the whole process entirely31 agreed with certain of the dicta of Mr. Owen Meredith, who, as has been explained, was poet-laureate at the Schr?der court. And Alice called on Barbara, and petted her and praised her, and in her silly little way did every thing possible to prevent the smallest rapprochement between them. And then Alice went away, and cried in the carriage on her way home, and declared that Barbara was cruel and unkind and unjust, and had utterly32 changed in every thing.
Were these assertions correct? I fear that at all events they had a certain proportion of truth. The spirit which had induced Barbara Lexden to marry a man without money, and of, as her friends thought, inferior position; which had made her scorn the threats of being cast off by those among whom her life had hitherto been placed, and to hold to one whom she knew but little, yet trusted much,--this same spirit made her brave the fate to which she had resigned herself, and determined that if she repined, it should be in secret and unheard. It was a mistake; that she had already confessed to herself with bitter tears many and many a time; done in haste, repented33 at leisure--the old, old story, the old seductive myth, which will find believers for ever and aye. How often, brooding in the solitude34 of her chamber35, had she gone over the whole business in her mind, linking bit to bit, and endeavouring to find out where the reality had fallen short of the anticipation36!
They were poor. Well! had she not expected poverty; had not Frank told her plainly and honourably37 of his position before he made any declaration? Yes; but she did not understand poverty exactly as she had found it. She knew that they would not be able to give parties, nor to go to the Opera, nor that kind of thing; but she certainly thought that they would go out sometimes, and that she should not be stuck at home for ever. Of course the people who gave parties had a great deal of expense; but those who went to them had none; and it was not expected that any newly-married people living in a small way should entertain in return. But then Frank, after positively38 refusing to go out a third night running, had given way; but had shaken his head, and looked so serious over a glove-bill which he happened to see on her dressing39-table, that she threw on her dressing-gown, and bade him go by himself. She did not care about going out; but if she went, she would be decent; she had always been considered to have a reputation for good taste, and nothing on earth should make her a dowdy40 now. She would sooner stay at home always; indeed there was little enough to go out for, having to be jolted41 in those horrible cabs, that crawled along the streets, with no room for one's dress, and with the certainty of being covered with dust or straw, or some dreadful stuff, when you got out; and then the insolence42 of the driver!
And her home? It was small, and dull, and dreary43; but had she been led to anticipate any thing else? No; she supposed not. And yet she wore herself out in those gaunt dark rooms, and chafed44 in her prison like a bird in its cage. She had always been a bad correspondent, and since her marriage had scarcely written any letters at all; but she would sit mooning over the pages of a novel, or over the stitches of her embroidery45, until book or work would fall from her hand; and there she would remain, looking intently at nothing, staring vacantly before her. Frank caused her to be supplied regularly with a copy of the Statesman, and in it she tried to read his articles--an honest attempt in which she dismally46 failed. Her aunt had been somewhat of a keen politician, and Barbara was sufficiently48 well informed on the position of English parties to bear her share in a dinner-table dialogue; but foreign affairs principally occupied Frank's pen in the Statesman; and after an attempted course of reading about Moldo-Wallachia, Schleswig-Holstein, and the Principalities, including an immense amount of virtuous49 indignation, the reason for which she did not comprehend, and the object of which she could not make out, poor Barbara gave it up in despair. She was in the habit of glancing occasionally at that portion of the paper in which Mr. Henchman chronicled the doings of the fashionable world, and recorded the names of those present at great entertainments; and sometimes when Barbara would raise her eyes from the paper and look down the hot vista50 of frowning houses in Great Adullam Street, where dust and straw were blowing in a penetrating51 cloud, and whence the dismal47 howling of itinerant52 hucksters fell upon the ear, she, remembering what part she had recently played among those of whom she had been reading, and contrasting it with her then life, would bite her lip until the blood started, and sob53 bitterly.
Where was her spirit, do you ask? Has she not been represented as a girl of special spirit and pluck? Did not the early-narrated incidents of her career, her very marriage, prove this? and is it natural that she should break down before petty annoyances54 such as these? These questions have been asked; and all I can reply is, that I paint according to my lights and to my experience of life; and I believe that there are hundreds of women of spirit who would bear the amputation55 of a finger with more fortitude56 than the non-arrival of a bonnet57, and who suffer less in separation from those they dearly love than in the necessity for a daily inspection58 of the bread-pan.
And Frank, what of him? Had Barbara been deceived in him? had she misjudged his heart, his truth, his love? Not one whit; and yet how different he seemed! Throughout his life, Frank Churchill had acted on impulse, and had generally pulled through with extraordinary success. We have seen how, in the railway-journey back to Bissett, he had argued with himself, had persuaded himself into the determination of leaving the place and flying from temptation, and how on the impulse of a moment he settled the career of his life. To say he had repented of that step, would have been untrue; equally false would it have been to say that he had not been seriously disappointed in its result. The great charm of Barbara Lexden in his eyes had been her dissimilarity from other women. In the quiet circles in which he moved, there was no one kin21 to her; she stood out in bold relief among the fussy59 wives and meek60 colourless daughters of his friends, seeming a being of another sphere. And now, strange to say, this very contrast which had so captivated him, was his bane. What though the wives were fussy; they attended to their households with the utmost regularity61, investigating the smallest matters of domestic detail, keeping down expenses here, making shift there, and having a comfortable home ready for their husbands wearied out with their work. What though the daughters were meek and colourless, without a fragment of taste in dress, without a spark of spirit, without one atom of dash; they were ready to strum the piano, or to play endless games of whist or picquet, when called upon, to enjoy thoroughly62 such little society as they had among themselves, and, in fact, to make themselves generally amiable63. "Their girls did not lollop on the sofa and read trashy novels all day tong, my dear!" as Mrs. Harding more than once remarked; "they were not aristocrats64, and couldn't jabber65 Italian; but they didn't lie in bed to breakfast, or be always fiddling66 with their hair, or dressing or undressing themselves twenty times a day. If those were aristocratic manners, the less she had of them the better."
All this talk, and there was much of it perpetually current, reached Frank Churchill's ears through his mother, and if it did not render him actually unhappy, at least dashed his spirits and checked his joys. He would sit for hours pondering over these things, thinking of his past, when he had only himself and his old mother to care for, wondering what would have been his future, supposing he had married one of the daughters of Mesopotamia, and settled down into the snug67 humdrum68 life pursued by those colonists69. And then sometimes Barbara would break in upon his reverie, and, looking so brilliantly handsome, would come up and kiss his forehead, and say a few loving words untinged by regret or complaint; and he would rejoice in the choice he had made, and thank that fortune which had thrown such a treasure in his way.
There is no doubt that, without in the least degree intending it (indeed, what sacrifice had she not made, would she not make, for her son?), old Mrs. Churchill was a fruitful cause of the petty dissensions which took place between Barbara and her husband. Devoted70 to Frank, to her natural anxiety for his happiness was superadded an invincible71 jealousy72 of the woman who had supplanted73 his mother in his regard, or at least had pushed her from the highest position therein. Against the actuations of this feeling the old lady strove with all her strength, and made great way; but, like many other intending victors, she imagined the day gained before the enemy had been thoroughly repulsed74, and then, neglecting her outposts, laid herself open to an irresistible75 attack. At first Frank laughed away all these remarks, telling his mother that the difference of age between her and Barbara, the difference of their lives and bringing up, the difference in the style of the present time and the days when Mrs. Churchill lived in the world, caused her to think the young wife's proceedings76 singular, and her demeanour odd. But saepe cadendo, by constant trituration the old lady's notions got grafted77 into his brain, and most of the weary self-communings and self-torturings which Frank had, sprung from his mother's unintentional planting.
One day about noon old Mrs. Churchill knocked at the door of Frank's little study, and entering found her son hard at work on an article he was preparing for a review. The old lady seemed in great spirits, kissed her son most affectionately, and said: "Busy as ever, Frank my darling? As I often used to say, you'll grow to your desk one day, you stick at it so--at least you used to when I lived with you; I don't know much of what you do now;" and she gave a little sigh, made doubly apparent by an attempt to stifle78 it, as she sat down.
"Why, mum, what nonsense!" said Frank; "you see as much of me as any body now--as much as Barbara, at all events."
"Oh, by the way, how is Barbara?"
"Well, not very brilliant this morning; she's got one of her headaches, and I persuaded her to breakfast in bed."
"Ah, she didn't take much persuading, I fancy. The young girls nowadays are very different from what I remember them; but she'd be tired, poor child, waiting up for you last night."
"She did no such thing, I'm delighted to say," said Frank, smiling, "as I had to write upon the result of the debate, and didn't get home until nearly three o'clock. Poor Barbara was sound asleep at that time, and had been so for some hours."
"Ah, ever since her visitor went away, I suppose?"
"Her visitor? What visitor?"
"Didn't she tell you? How odd! I called in last evening for a volume of Blunt on the Pentateuch, and found Captain Lyster here chatting. How odd that Barbara didn't mention it!"
"She was too sleepy both last night and this morning, I imagine," said Frank: "she has frequently told me of his visits."
"Oh, yes, he calls here very often."
"He's a very pleasant fellow," said Frank.
"Not know him!" exclaimed Frank; "why, mother dear, how on earth should he call here if I didn't know him?"
"He might be a friend of your wife's, my dear."
"But my wife's friends are mine, are they not?"
"It does not always follow, Frank," said the old lady calmly; "besides, I thought if he had been a friend of yours, he would have called sometimes when you were at home."
Frank looked up quickly with a flushed face; then said, "What nonsense, mum! the man is an old friend of Barbara's, and comes at such times as are most convenient to himself. You don't understand the set of people he lives with, mum."
"Very likely not, my dear; and I'm sure I'm not sorry for it; for they seem strange enough; at least to a quiet old-fashioned body like myself, who was taught never to receive male friends when my husband--however, that's neither here nor there." And Mrs. Churchill bustled80 out.
When Barbara came down to luncheon81, Frank said to her, "I hear you had Captain Lyster here, last night, Barbara."
"Oh, yes," she replied, "I forgot to tell you; he sat here some time."
"He comes pretty frequently, doesn't he?"
"I don't know," said Barbara, looking up; "I never counted the number of times; you always hear when he has been."
"I wish you'd do something for me, Barbara," said Frank.
"Well, what is it?"
"Why--well--upon my word--I scarcely know why--except that people talk, you know; and it's better--eh? don't you think?" stammered84 Frank. He had acted on impulse again, and felt confoundedly ashamed of himself.
"I distinctly decline to do any thing of the sort. I wonder Frank, you're not ashamed to propose such a thing to me; but I can see what influence has been at work."
"There has been no influence at all; only I choose--"
"And I choose that you should find a fitter person than your wife to deliver insulting messages to your friends!"
"Barbara suppose I were to insist upon your not receiving this man again?"
"You had better not, Frank," said she, moving towards the door; "you don't know whom you have to deal with." And she swept out of the room.
And this was Barbara's first lesson in the manège.
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1
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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implicitly
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| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
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astute
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| adj.机敏的，精明的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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baneful
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| adj.有害的 | |
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amends
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| n. 赔偿 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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9
eschewed
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| v.（尤指为道德或实际理由而）习惯性避开，回避( eschew的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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frivolity
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| n.轻松的乐事，兴高采烈；轻浮的举止 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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12
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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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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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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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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23
sophistry
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| n.诡辩 | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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watchfulness
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| 警惕，留心； 警觉（性） | |
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26
attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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conjugal
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| adj.婚姻的，婚姻性的 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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29
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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dames
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| n.（在英国）夫人（一种封号），夫人（爵士妻子的称号）( dame的名词复数 )；女人 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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honourably
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| adv.可尊敬地，光荣地，体面地 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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dowdy
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| adj.不整洁的；过旧的 | |
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jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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45
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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46
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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48
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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49
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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50
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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51
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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52
itinerant
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| adj.巡回的；流动的 | |
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53
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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54
annoyances
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| n.恼怒( annoyance的名词复数 )；烦恼；打扰；使人烦恼的事 | |
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55
amputation
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| n.截肢 | |
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56
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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57
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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58
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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59
fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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60
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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61
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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62
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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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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aristocrats
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| n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
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65
jabber
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| v.快而不清楚地说；n.吱吱喳喳 | |
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fiddling
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| 微小的 | |
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67
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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humdrum
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| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
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colonists
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| n.殖民地开拓者，移民，殖民地居民( colonist的名词复数 ) | |
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70
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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71
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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72
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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73
supplanted
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| 把…排挤掉，取代( supplant的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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76
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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77
grafted
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| 移植( graft的过去式和过去分词 )； 嫁接； 使（思想、制度等）成为（…的一部份）； 植根 | |
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78
stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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79
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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80
bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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81
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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82
contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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83
pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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84
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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