The prison gates shut. Silence fell. The troubled waters settled into calm. Tom went back to Queenstown; Mr. Gardiner to Woodlands—and to bed, with a couple of nurses in attendance. Denis was presumably at Dent-de-lion, working for the Aero Show. Mrs. Trent had gone no one knew whither. And Lettice, her duty done, had escaped unmolested to her attic1 in Pimlico, where she settled back into her groove2, with that sort of capillary3 attraction towards the inconspicuous and the ordinary, which marked her conduct always except when she was making one of her gravely calculated excursions into the extraordinary.
Why had she held her tongue? Her friends did not need to be told. "It's Lettice all over!" said Gardiner himself, half fond, half laughing. She had had two main motives4 (or rather springs of action; for "motive5" implies conscious volition6, whereas Lettice did simply without thinking what came natural)—the one a principle, the other a prejudice. First, she would never, if she could possibly avoid it, interfere7 in other people's affairs—that was the principle; and second, with every taste and instinct she hated to be made conspicuous—that was the prejudice, and a tough one.
With these reasons against speaking, moreover, she saw none for. It never entered her head that some people might say she had treated Gardiner unfairly, in letting him tell his tale while keeping her own knowledge in reserve. What[Pg 182] difference could it possibly make? Why should she have spoken? It would only have made him very uncomfortable, and Denis would simply have hated it. All this, of course, rested on the assumption of her own detachment, insulation8, negligibility: in which Lettice was so rooted and grounded that she was quite surprised to find other people surprised by what to her came natural as breathing.
Her explanation, given in court, ran something as follows:—"I didn't speak before the inquest because I know there were two other witnesses, and I didn't see I was wanted; and after it, by the time I heard what had happened, it was too late. There would have been no sense in disturbing things again. It would have been bad for everybody all round, and worst for Mrs. Trent. But now—now things were different. I had to speak now. It was time for the truth to come out."
Full time. Best for Dorothea, as well as for her victim. She had been screened, and in the darkness evil things had grown up. Down with all screens now. In the light of truth, the whole jumble9 resolved itself into order. Honor to whom honor was due; judgment10 to whom judgment. Even Gardiner's sentence fell into place. It might be too heavy for the particular offense11; but no one knew better than himself that it was the just penalty for his months of cowardice12.
February passed into March, a sweet, mild March: blue skies, brown buds, thrushes singing, daisies on every lawn, violets round every bush, white and golden daffodils ruffling13 under the trees, flood-water glistening14 like frosted silver among tender blades of grass. Towards the end of the month the prisoner saw his first visitor. Mr. Gardiner, being still too weak to go himself, sent Tom. Tom's impressions were recorded in a duty letter to Miss Smith: "I saw my brother for a few minutes yesterday in the presence of a warder. He seems very fairly cheerful and fit. His work is in the printing room. He asked me to let you know he is going strong." Dry crumbs15! Lettice's consolation16 was that Mr. Gardiner would be no better satisfied than herself, and[Pg 183] that next month he would send Denis. Denis had at least a tongue in his head. That is to say, he used to have—unless—
A few days later she received another letter, this time from her cousin. He inclosed tickets for the Aero Show. "I know these things aren't much in your line, but you can give them away to somebody or other. As a matter of fact, we've not much worth seeing on our stand this year. The seaplane didn't get done after all. Yes, I may be in town for the week-end, but I'm afraid I shan't be able to look you up. Better luck next time, perhaps." And overleaf, a hastily scribbled17 postscript18: "I suppose you've heard nothing from Westby? I've just had a line from Mr. Gardiner: he says Harry's been in a row—insubordination and assaulting a warder—and all letters and visits are stopped off for the next two months. No particulars, only that. I was to have gone down there next month, you know, but of course that's off now. Bad job, isn't it?"
Lettice laid down the letter with an unaccustomed sinking of the heart. Of the postscript she utterly19 refused to let herself think; it was bad enough without that. It was not the first time she had felt uneasy about her cousin. How often had she seen him since Westby? Not once; yet formerly20 they had met, as a matter of course, whenever he came to town. Formerly, too, he had written to her regularly every week—by an unexpected trait, Denis was a graphic21 writer, just as with his friends he was a garrulous22 talker; in that came out his Irish blood. Now she might think herself lucky if she heard once a month; and what things his letters were, when they came! The last had been an essay on the uses of the deck or cable plane. This present one—well, this was the climax23. Over and over again, whenever he mentioned the Show (and it had been his staple24 conversation for months), she had been given to understand that she was to be taken to Olympia, and dragged round the exhibits, and stuffed with information whether she liked it or not; and that her guide was to be no other than himself.
[Pg 184]
Lettice faced the conclusion that there was something wrong.
By this and by that, by what she had seen herself and by what Gardiner had said at Westby, she had gathered how things stood between Denis and Dorothea. What would be the effect of such a shock? Lettice found herself unable to guess. Up to a certain point, Denis was transparent25; for years she had read him like a book, and had been able to predict not merely what he would do or say, but the very gesture and accent with which he would do or say it. Dear Denis, tried friend, good as good bread, in Gardiner's expressive26 idiom, pig-headed Ulsterman with those dark blue Southern Irish eyes, truculent27 fighter answering to the lightest touch of her silken rein28!—Lettice was a good lover, and she had given him of her best. But now—now, like Gardiner, she found herself up against a door that had no key. What was going on inside? What was Denis doing there, to heal him of his deadly wound? She did not know—she could not guess. But one thing was certain: he would accept no help. Gardiner in his weakness had cried out to her and rested on her strength; but Denis was neither weak nor dependent. Whatever went on behind the closed door was between him and his God.
Lettice picked up the tickets again. "He's sent me these things because he felt he must, but he doesn't mean me to use them," ran her slow thoughts. "I expect that means he's going to be there himself. Up for the week-end; then he'll probably go on the Saturday—"
Lettice rarely framed a definite resolution, but after long brooding her thoughts would settle into a sediment29 of purpose. The outcome of that hiatus was that on Saturday she put on her best things and went to Olympia to see for herself.
The whole floor space of the exhibition hall was cut up into a chess-board of stands, each one carpeted with red felt and inclosed in a white railing. Within these crimson30 plots might be seen every variety of a?roplane. Pusher, tractor, hydroplane, bat-boat, super-marine, the names[Pg 185] sounded very imposing31, but to the uninstructed (videlicet to Lettice) they all looked as much alike as a crowd of Chinamen. Visitors might wander about at will, stooping under huge pale arching wings, or mounting steps to inspect the fittings of the pilot's cockpit. Lettice had expected to be bored, but she was not. At that time, before it became mechanically perfect and virtually fool-proof, while its imperfections had still to be pieced out with human skill and daring, the aeroplane was no machine but an individual. Denis and his fellows talked of particular planes as a man talks of particular hunters in his stable.
After wandering round the stands, and duly gazing at the Smith monoplane, Lettice retired32 to the tea-room where she established herself in a corner behind a group of palms. Be it understood that she had come strictly33 to see, not to speak to her cousin; she knew she could dodge34 his short-sighted eyes. This being the last day of the show, the hall was full. All the flying world seemed to be there. Celebrities35 were thick as blackberries in the woods above Frahan; here a young mechanic who had become famous in a day, there a hereditary36 legislator who had ended his last race (luckily the incident hadn't got into the papers) head downwards37 in a ditch. Many of the men belonged to a certain well-defined physical type, lean, wiry, and small-made. Other things being equal, the light-weight pilot has an advantage. The women, on the other hand, rar? nantes in gurgite vasto, were mostly hothouse flowers. Lettice, of course, knew no one; she would have been quite at a loss but for her neighbor at the next table, a big man rather like a mastiff, with an incongruous soft voice, who was obligingly giving the carte du pays to his companion.
"See that old cock with the iron-gray hair? That's Arthur Sturt, the ironmaster; he's running the Derby Flying School, and making pots of money. Able chap; there aren't many men of sixty who have receptivity enough to believe in the aeroplane. What? Oh, certainly, sir, the compliment applies to you." He laughed, pausing to light a cigar. "The youngster eating strawberries with the flapper in a [Pg 186]pigtail—got him? That's Tommy Wyatt. Riviera cup, you know. A perfect young devil. You ought to have been at Hendon last Saturday; he was putting up some wonderful stunts—simply playing cup-and-ball with his bus. Oh, I'm quite a back number these days. Soon be sixty myself, what?"
"I dare say you'll find you're good for a year or so yet," said his companion dryly. He was a lean, elderly clergyman with an adventurous38 eye. "By the by, is your partner here?"
The younger man shook his head. "Not he! Hasn't been near the place. I don't know what's taken him—that's to say I do, and wish I didn't. He's not done a stroke of work this year. Let me down rather badly over the seaplane; I particularly wanted to show it. I told you about that nasty affair he was mixed up in, didn't I? For a straight-laced, fastidious fellow like him it must have been the deuce of a jolt39, and of course one makes every allowance; but it's a nuisance, all the same. I'm personally sorry, too," he added. "It's a bad job when a chap of that type runs off the rails. What? Oh, no, no mistake about it, I'm afraid; she's making a perfect fool of herself. Byrne will get his divorce this time, as sure as eggs. Hullo! by George—"
"That's not he?"
"Yes, it is, though," said Wandesforde, craning forward. "Good Lord! fancy Evey Byrne letting herself be dragged to the Aero Show! She must have got it badly!"
Mrs. Byrne was a very pretty woman, and even more charming than she was pretty. She had a husband who was impossible to live with and whom she could not divorce because she was a Catholic. He had no such scruples40, however; he had dragged her through the court on trumped-up evidence, and she had emerged, like Susannah, without a stain on her character. It was felt that she had been hardly used. In the circumstances, and as she knew how to give a good dinner and was popular with women as well as men, she was allowed a good deal of license41. She needed it all.[Pg 187] She was very sweet, and very innocent, and hopelessly indiscreet, with an Irish aptitude42 for tumbling into scrapes. She could no more help using her lovely eyes than a violet can help smelling; and men buzzed round her always like wasps43 round a peach. The latest of her captives, having led her to a seat, now stood beside her with bent44 head to receive her instructions, while she drew the gloves off her lovely hands and arms. What Denis felt it was impossible to say; his attitude bespoke45 admiration46, but nothing more.
She finished her directions, he nodded assent47, and threaded his way through the crowd towards the buffet48. Turning to retrace49 his steps with a nicely balanced load of tea and strawberries, he came face to face with another pair who had just come in. The encounter might have been foreseen, and indeed Lettice had given the chance a thought; for Dorothea's eyes were not, like Denis's, easy to dodge. Here she was, then, she too with a cavalier in attendance, to judge from his expression a devoted50 cavalier. And no wonder; Dorothea, in a long cloak of violet velvet51, and a big velvet hat with sweeping52 plume53, made an enchanting54 figure. Her face, which had lost its childish softness, was less pretty, but far more alluring55. April was unfolding to the bloom of May.
Seeing Denis, she stopped dead; then her face broke into sunshine, she colored like a damask rose, and moved forward impulsively56 with outstretched hands. Denis continued on his way. The violet velvet was actually brushing his sleeve. "I beg your pardon!" he said with unmoved politeness, drawing back from contact. He rejoined his companion and sat down at her table.
For the first time in her life Lettice found herself enjoying the sight of pain.
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1
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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2
groove
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| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
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3
capillary
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| n.毛细血管；adj.毛细管道；毛状的 | |
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4
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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5
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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6
volition
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| n.意志；决意 | |
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7
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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8
insulation
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| n.隔离；绝缘；隔热 | |
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9
jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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10
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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11
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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12
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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13
ruffling
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| 弄皱( ruffle的现在分词 )； 弄乱； 激怒； 扰乱 | |
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14
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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15
crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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16
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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17
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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18
postscript
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| n.附言，又及；(正文后的)补充说明 | |
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19
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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20
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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21
graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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22
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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23
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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24
staple
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| n.主要产物，常用品，主要要素，原料，订书钉，钩环；adj.主要的，重要的；vt.分类 | |
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25
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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26
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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27
truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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28
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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29
sediment
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| n.沉淀，沉渣，沉积(物) | |
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30
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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31
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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32
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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33
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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34
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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celebrities
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| n.（尤指娱乐界的）名人( celebrity的名词复数 )；名流；名声；名誉 | |
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36
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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37
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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38
adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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39
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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40
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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41
license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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42
aptitude
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| n.(学习方面的)才能，资质，天资 | |
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43
wasps
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| 黄蜂( wasp的名词复数 )； 胡蜂； 易动怒的人； 刻毒的人 | |
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44
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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45
bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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46
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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47
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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48
buffet
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| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
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49
retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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50
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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51
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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52
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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53
plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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54
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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55
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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56
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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