"Moping there in the dark," said Routh, with an oath, "and making things a hundred times worse, with her cursed whining14 and temper."
The Schwarzchild mansion15 was near, and he was soon removed as far from all associations with discomfort16 and dreariness17 as brilliant light, a blazing fire of odorous wood burning in a room too large to be overheated by it, luxurious18 surroundings, and pleasant expectation could remove him from such discordant19 realities. Presently Mrs. Ireton P. Bembridge made her appearance. The room was a long one, and she entered by a door which faced the chimney where he was standing. Much as he had admired her, irresistibly20 as her beauty had captivated him with its ordinary charm, of recklessness and lustre21, with its rare, far-between moments of softness and grace, he had never really understood until now how beautiful she was. For there was a mingling22 of both moods upon her as she came towards him, her amber23 silk dress, with the accustomed drapery of superb black lace falling round her, and sweeping24 the ground in folds such as surely no other mere25 gown, made by mundane26 milliner, had ever accomplished27. Rich purple amethysts28 were on her neck and on her wrists, and gleamed on the comb which held the coils of her hair. Wax-lights in profusion29 shed their softened30 light upon her, upon the cream and rose tints31 of her brow and cheeks, upon the scarlet32 of her lips, upon the marvellous darkness of her eyes; and the capricious blaze from the burning logs shot quivering streaks33 of light among the folds of her dress, glancing over the jewels she wore, and playing redly on the hand which she held out, while yet some steps divided her from Routh, gazing at her in absorbed, almost amazed admiration34.
"How tired and pale you look!" she said, as he took the proffered35 hand, and she allowed him to hold it. The words were slowly spoken, in the tone of solicitude37 for him, which is one of the most potent38 weapons in a beautiful woman's armoury. "Sit there," she went on, drawing her hand gently from his hold and indicating a seat, while she settled herself into the recesses39 of a huge German sofa. "How could you imagine I would go to the Kursaal to-night? Just listen!" She held her hand up; a cloud of filmy lace fell back from the beautiful round white arm. Then she dropped the hand slowly, and waited for him to speak. He spoke36 with strange difficulty; the spell of the power of her beauty was upon him. This was not what he had intended. He had meant to conquer, not to be conquered; to sway, not to be ruled.
"I thought," he said, in a low tone, "you would have come, because--I--I did not know you would allow me the happiness of coming here."
"Did you not? I think you don't understand me yet. I wished to see you, you know, and I did not wish to go out this evening. It is quite simple, is it not?"
"It is indeed, for such a woman as you."
She laughed.
"Is not that rather an awkward speech--rather an equivocal compliment? How posed you look!"
She laughed again, Routh felt unspeakably embarrassed; he had a sense of being at a disadvantage, which was unpleasant. She saw it, and said:
"What a temper you have! You'd be rather hard to please, I fancy, if one were in any sense bound to try."
"Don't jest with me," said Routh, suddenly and sternly, and he rolled his chair deliberately40 near her as he spoke. "You did not allow me, you did not invite me to come here to-night; you did not do this, which seems so 'simple' to you, because you are as much braver than every other woman as you are more beautiful,"--he looked into her dark eyes, and their lids did not droop,--"only to jest with me, only to trifle with me, as you trifle with others. You are a wonderfully puzzling woman, I acknowledge; no woman ever so puzzled me before. Each time I see you, there is something different, something new in your manner, and each time it is as though I had to begin all over again; as if I had not told you that I love you, as if you had not listened and confessed that you know it. Why have you sent for me? You dismissed me yesterday with something which you tried to make look and sound like anger--ineffectually, for you were not angry. And I was prepared for the same line of tactics to-day. Well, you send for me. I am here. You come to me a thousand times more beautiful"--he dropped his voice to a whisper, and she grew pale under the fixed41 fire of his eyes,--"infinitely more beautiful than I have ever seen you; and in your eyes and in your smile there is what I have never seen in them; and yet you meet me with mere jesting words. Now, this you do not mean; what is it that you do mean?"
He rose, and leaned against the mantelpiece, looking down upon her bent head, with the light shining on the jewels in her hair. She did not speak.
"What is that you do mean?" he repeated. She had laid one arm along the cushioned side of the sofa, the side near him. He clasped it, above the wrist, impressively, not caressingly42, and at the touch, the words he had spoken to her before, "Would you not be afraid of a man who loved you with all the passion of his heart?" recurred43 to her, and she felt that so this man loved her, and that she was afraid of him.
"I dare say many others have loved you, and told you so," he continued, "and I don't ask you how you received their professions. I know the world too well, and what it brings to men and women, for any such folly44. That is of the past. The present is ours. I ask you why you have brought me here? A woman who resents such words as those I have spoken to you before now, does not give a man the chance of repeating them. You have not sent for me to tell me that you are insulted and outraged45, to talk the cant46 of a hypocritical society to me. I should not love you, beautiful as you are, if you were such a fool."
He saw that his audacity47 was not without its charm for her; her head was raised now, and her dark eyes, looking up, met his looking down, as she listened, with parted lips and deep-drawn breath.
"Be sure of this," he said, "no man has ever loved you as I love you, or been willing to stake so much upon your love." The sinister48 truth which lurked49 in these words lent the sinister expression to his face again for a moment which she had sometimes seen in it. "How much I stake upon it you will never know. So be it. I am ready, I am willing. You see I am giving you time. I am not hurrying you into rash speech. I dare say you were not at all prepared for this when you and I met, and you took the initiative in what you intended to be an ordinary watering-place flirtation--while you were waiting for Arthur Felton, perhaps?" he said, savagely51, for, as he went on, the savage50 nature of the man was rising within him, and for all that his grasp was on her soft white arm, and his gaze was searching the depths of her dark eyes, he was speaking rather to himself than to her; rather to the unchained devil within, than to the beautiful fatality52 before him.
"It is possible you had some such notion," he said. "I don't ask you to acknowledge it, for if so, you have abandoned it." He stooped lower, his eyes looked closer into hers. She shrank back, and covered her face with her disengaged hand. "Yes," he went on, in a gentle tone, "I know you soon discovered that I am not made for make-believes; and now--now that you have sent for me, and I am here, what is it that you mean? You cannot make me the pastime of an hour; you cannot shake off the hold which such love as mine lays upon your life--would still lay upon it were you a feebler woman than you are. What then? Are you going to take the wine of life, or are you going to content yourself with the vapid53 draughts54 you have hitherto drank? You must tell me, and tell me to-night, what it is you mean; for a crisis in my life is come, and I must know, without paltering or delay, how it is to be dealt with."
He lifted his hand from her arm, and standing directly before her, bade her look up and speak to him. She did not move. Then he sat down on a velvet55 footstool before her sofa, and drew her hands away from before her face. There were signs of agitation56 on it, and he read them, not quite correctly perhaps, but to his own satisfaction.
"Listen to me," he said, in the gentlest tones within the compass of his voice. "I have a right--have I not?--to ask you, to know what is your meaning towards me? What did you bring me here for? Remember the words I have spoken to you, not once only, or twice; remember the story I told you on the balcony yonder; remember the tone you have occasionally adopted in all your levity57, and then do not attempt to deny my right to speak as I am speaking, and to demand your answer."
"You--you found me alone here--in my own house--and--"
"Absurd!" he cried. "You are talking nonsense, and you know it. Did you not intend me to understand that I should find you alone? Did your note, your summons (I tore it up, but you remember the words as well as I do), mean anything else? Do you not know this is all folly? There is no need to play with me. I am a sure prize or victim, which you please; you know that well enough, and I must know which you do please, for this is, as I said before, a crisis for me. Which is it?" he said, and he held her hands more tightly, and looked at her with a pale face. "Which is it? Mere coquetry--a dangerous game with a man like me I warn you--a game you won't find it possible to play; or--or the deep, deep love of a lifetime--the devotion which will never swerve10 or falter--the passion which will blot59 out from your knowledge or your fears everything beyond itself."
Weak, imaginative, without principle, easily ruled by strength, though a despot to weakness, the woman he addressed listened to him like one in a dream. Not until afterwards did a sense of being tricked and trapped come to her. Had her demeanour towards Routh really implied all this! Had she yielded to the rapacity60 for admiration, to the thirst for conquest, which had always dominated in her nature, once too often, and far too completely? This was precisely61 what she had done, and she had fallen into the hands of a stronger being than herself. In a blind, vague, groping kind of way she felt this, and felt that she could not help or deliver herself, and felt it with something like fear, even while her imagination and her vanity were intoxicated62 by the mingling of defiance63 and pleading in his words, in his tones, and in his looks.
"You and I," he went on, "would say to others, would say to each other in some of our moods, or would have said when first we met, that no such thing as this all-sufficing love exists, but each of us knows well that it does, and may and shall be ours! This is what I mean. Again I ask you, what is your meaning in all this?"
"I don't know," she replied, releasing her hands, and rising. He allowed her to pass him, and to walk to the fireplace. She stood there, her radiant figure glittering in the lustre of the fire and the wax-lights. She stood there, her head bent, her hands before her, the fingers interlaced. After a minute, Routh followed her, and stood before her.
"Then you will not answer me--you will not tell me what your meaning was in sending for me to-night?"
There was tenderness in his tone now, and the slight inflection of a sense of injury which rarely fails with a woman.
"Yes," she said, looking up full at him, "I will tell you. I wanted to let you know that I think of going away."
"Going away!" cried Routh, in unbounded amazement--"Going away! What do you mean?"
"Just what I say," she replied, recovering herself, and resuming her usual tone and manner as soon as he released her from the spell of his earnestness and passion--"I am going away. I don't treat you quite so badly as you try to make out, you see, or I should not tell you about it, or consult you, or anything, but just go--go right away, you know, and make an end of it."
Routh's stern face flushed, and then darkened with a look which Harriet had learned to know, but which Mrs. Ireton P. Bembridge had never seen. She did not see it now, and continued:
"I sent for you to tell you this. I don't like the place; I'm tired of it. It's too small, and yet every one comes here, and I'm talked of. Ah, you sneer64! Well, I know. I remember all I have said about that, but it is one thing to be talked of in London or Paris, and quite another to be the object of the daily curiosity and the malice65--"
"You mean the envy, don't you?"
"No, I don't, I mean the malice; well the envy, or the malice, or only the observation, if you like, of always the same people, whom I meet in always the same places. This is a part of my reason, but only a part. I don't like Mr. Felton, I don't like Mr. Dallas; less than any people in the world I choose to have them to spy and overlook me; and--and--I don't want to be here when that man comes."
Routh stood before her quite silent.
"You know--you remember," she said with a smile, "Arthur Felton. By-the-by, you need not make faces about my wearing his photograph any more, for I've lost it--lost it before I got home yesterday. In fact, I suspect he is in some trouble--perhaps in some disgrace--and I have no fancy for being here when he arrives, to have him quarrelling with me if I avoid him, and his father regarding me with horror if I don't; so--" and here she knelt on the white rug and stretched out her hands to the fire, which shone reflected in her upraised eyes--"so I am going to--" She paused, tantalizing66 him.
"To--?" he repeated after her, almost in a whisper.
"To London," she said; and laughed and looked at him, and rose. "Now sit down, and let us talk it over, and be reasonable."
Still quite silent, Routh obeyed her. His manner, his look was changed. He was thoughtful; but an air of relief had come upon him, as if unexpected help had reached him from an unforeseen quarter.
There was no light in the window, as Routh passed it by, returning to his lodgings. But there was a lamp in the hall, at which he lighted a candle, and went into the sitting-room67.
Harriet was still sitting by the window; she did not raise or turn her head, and Routh thought she was sleeping. He went up close to her, and then she languidly opened her eyes and rose.
"Have you fallen asleep here, in the dark, Harriet?" said Routh, "and without a fire! How imprudent and unnecessary!"
"I am not cold," she said; but she shivered slightly as she spoke. Routh took up a shawl which lay upon a chair and wrapped it round her. She looked at him, quietly but sharply.
"Don't be afraid; I am all right to-night, Harry68," he said. "I've won a lot of money at the tables, and I've been thinking over what we were saying this morning--" He paused a moment, and then went on with some constraint69 in his voice: "I think you are right so far, that the sooner we get away from this the better. I will consider the rest of the matter when we get to London."
Harriet looked at him still, closely and sharply, but she said nothing.
"You are too tired to talk about anything to-night, Harry, I see," said Routh, with good humour which did not sit on him very naturally, "so we will not talk. But would it be possible for you to be ready to start in the morning?"
"Yes," said Harriet, quietly, and without showing the least surprise by voice or countenance70, "I will have everything ready."
Homburg von der H?he was graced for only a few days longer by the beautiful American. Her pony-carriage and the gray ponies71, the French groom72, the luxurious wrappings, the splendid vision of satin, and lace, and jewels, all disappeared, and the Schwarzchild mansion was for a while desolate73, until again occupied by the numerous progeny74 of a rich and rusty75 Queen's counsel.
It was understood that Mrs. Ireton P. Bembridge had returned to Paris. "Every season is the right season for Paris with those Americans," said a contemptuous Briton, who secretly held himself aggrieved76 by the abrupt77 departure of the handsome widow, who had never appeared more than conscious of his existence, certainly not interested in the fact; "it draws them like a loadstone."
"She has evidently heard nothing of Arthur," said Mr. Felton to his nephew, "or she would have sent us word."
He spoke timidly, and glanced at George with anxious eyes. George looked undisguisedly serious and troubled.
"I wish your letters had arrived, uncle," he replied. "I begin to fear we shall not see Arthur here; and--and to be sorry that so much time has been lost."
A week later George Dallas wrote to Harriet Routh from Paris as follows:
"H?tel du Louvre, Paris, October.
"My Dear Mrs. Routh,--I am here with my uncle. My mother and Mr. Carruthers are travelling more slowly. We are all to meet in London. Meantime a circumstance has occurred which may prove of great, and must be of some, importance to Mr. Felton and to myself. I am compelled to ask your assistance, which I know you will give me with all your accustomed readiness and kindness.
"Accompanied by my uncle, I went this morning to a jeweller's shop in the Rue78 de la Paix to order the bracelet79 you know of to be re-made for my mother. I had not previously80 undone81 the packet containing the gold band and the turquoises82, which you sealed up and kept in your desk for me, since the day you gave it to me at Homburg. The things were wrapped up in letter-paper, you will remember. I opened the packet on the counter of the jeweller's shop, shook the turquoises into a box he handed me for the purpose, and was holding up the gold band for him to examine, when my uncle, who was looking at the paper I had laid down, suddenly called to me, and pointing to some writing on it--mere memoranda83, apparently84, of articles to be purchased (I enclose a correct copy)--exclaimed, 'That is Arthur's writing!' I saw at once that it was his writing, and determined85 to apply to you in the first place for information on the matter. It is now clear that my cousin has passed under another name than his own, and that Routh and perhaps you have known him. There is a date, too, upon the paper--10th of April of this year. You took the paper out of the lower division of your desk. You may be able to tell us all that we have so long been anxious to know, at once. Pray answer this without delay. I think it best not to write to Routh, because my uncle and he are almost strangers, and also, dear Mrs. Routh, because it comes naturally to me to address myself to you. How strange that all this time you and Routh should have known Arthur, and I, living in intimacy86 with you both, should have been in a manner seeking him! You will, no doubt, be able to tell us everything without an hour's delay; but, in any case, we shall be in London in a week, and shall have Arthur's portrait to show you. I am sure this letter is very ill expressed, but I am still bewildered at the strangeness of the occurrence. Write at once. My room is No. 80.
"Always yours affectionately,
"George Dallas.
"P. S. The jeweller of the Rue de la Paix is a jewel among his tribe. He undertakes to replace the diamonds, and, as far as I can judge--to be sure it's only a little way--with stones just as fine as those I sold at A--, for a third less than the money his Hebrew Dutch confrère gave me. I had a mind to tell him the value of the original diamonds, but I didn't--the honestest of the jewellers is only human, and it might tempt58 him to raise the price and not the value. But I think he recognized a master-mind in my uncle."
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1
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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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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portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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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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Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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9
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
swerve
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| v.突然转向，背离；n．转向，弯曲，背离 | |
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swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cascade
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| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
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13
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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14
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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dreariness
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| 沉寂，可怕，凄凉 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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mundane
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| adj.平凡的；尘世的；宇宙的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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amethysts
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| n.紫蓝色宝石( amethyst的名词复数 )；紫晶；紫水晶；紫色 | |
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profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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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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42
caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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43
recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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cant
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| n.斜穿，黑话，猛扔 | |
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47
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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48
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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49
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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50
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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52
fatality
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| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
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vapid
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| adj.无味的；无生气的 | |
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54
draughts
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| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
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55
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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56
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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60
rapacity
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| n.贪婪，贪心，劫掠的欲望 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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65
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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66
tantalizing
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| adj.逗人的；惹弄人的；撩人的；煽情的v.逗弄，引诱，折磨( tantalize的现在分词 ) | |
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67
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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71
ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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72
groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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progeny
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| n.后代，子孙；结果 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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79
bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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81
undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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82
turquoises
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| n.绿松石( turquoise的名词复数 )；青绿色 | |
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83
memoranda
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| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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84
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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85
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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86
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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