“And did one of the nice men get up at five too, and stand in the corridor?” asked Clementina.
The girl flushed and laughed. “How did you guess? I couldn’t help it. How could I? And it was quite safe. He was ever so old.”
“I’m glad I’ve got you in charge now,” said Clementina.
“I’ll be so good, dear,” said the girl.
The luggage secured, they drove off. Etta’s eyes sparkled, as they went through the ugly, monotonous3, clattering4 streets of Lyons.
“What an adorable town!”
As it was not even lit by the cheap glamour5 of the sun, for the sky was overcast6 and threatening, it looked peculiarly depressing to normal vision. But youth found it adorable. O thrice blessed blindness of youth!
“What has happened to Mr. Burgrave?” she asked, after a while, “I suppose his time was up and he had to go back.”
“Oh, no,” said Clementina coolly. “He’s at Vienne.”
“Oh-h!” said Etta, with a little touch of reproach. “I thought it was just going to be you and I and us two.”
“We’ll put him in front next to Johnson and have the back of the car all to ourselves. But I thought you liked Tommy Burgrave.”
“He’s quite harmless,” said Etta carelessly.
“And he thinks of nothing in the world but his painting, so he won’t bother his head much about you,” said Clementina.
Etta fell at once into the trap. “I’m not going to let him treat me as if I didn’t exist,” she cried. “I’m afraid you’ve been spoiling him, darling. Men ought to be shown their place and taught how to behave.”
His behaviour, however, on their first meeting was remarkably8 correct. The car, entering Vienne, drew up by the side of the quay9 where he had pitched his easel. He rose and ran to greet its occupants with the most welcoming of smiles, which were not all directed at Clementina. Etta had her share. It is not in the nature of three-and-twenty to look morosely10 on so dainty a daughter of Eve—all the daintier by contrast with the dowdy11 elder woman by her side. Tommy had spoken truly when he had professed12 his downright honest affection for Clementina; truly also when he had deprecated the summoning of the interloping damsel. But he had not counted on the effect of contrast. He had seen Etta in his mind’s eye as just an ordinary young woman who would disturb that harmonious13 adjustment of artistic14 focus on whose discovery he had prided himself so greatly. Now he realised her freshness and dewiness and goodness to look upon. She adorned15 the car; made quite a different vehicle of it. Standing by the door he noticed how passers-by turned round and glanced at her with the frank admiration16 of their race. Tommy at once felt himself to be an enviable fellow; he was going to take a great pride in her; at the lowest, as a mere17 travelling adjunct, she did him credit. Clementina watched him shrewdly, and the corners of her mouth curled in an ironical18 twist.
“It isn’t my fault, Miss Concannon, that I didn’t come to Lyons to meet you. Clementina wouldn’t let me. You know what a martinet19 she is. So I was here all last evening simply languishing20 in loneliness.”
“Why wouldn’t you let poor Mr. Burgrave come to Lyons, Clementina?” laughed Etta.
“If you begin to pester22 me with questions,” replied Clementina, “I’ll pack you off to England again.”
“And you’ll answer them?”
“Every one,” said Tommy.
Thus the freemasonry of youth was at once established between them. Etta smiled sweetly on him as the car drove off to the hotel, and Tommy returned to his easel with the happy impression that everything, especially the intervention24 of interloping damsels, was for the best in this best of all possible worlds.
They met shortly afterwards at déjeuner, the brightest of meals, whereat Etta talked her girlish nonsense, which Tommy took for peculiarly sparkling discourse25. Clementina, wearing the mask of the indulgent chaperon, let the babble26 flow unchecked.
“Do you think Etta will spoil everything?” she asked him, as soon as they were alone for a moment.
“H’m!” said Clementina, feeling as though she might make the historic reply of the frog at whom the boys threw stones. But she had deliberately28 brought about the lapidation. She winced29; but she could not complain.
It must not be imagined, however, that Tommy transferred his allegiance in youth’s debonair30, thoughtless way to the newer and prettier princess. On the contrary, in all the little outward shows of devotion he demonstrated himself more zealously31 than ever to be Clementina’s vassal32. In the excursions that they made during the next few days keeping Vienne as a base—to La Tour du Pin, Grenoble, Saint-Marcellin, Mont-Pilat—it was to Clementina that he turned and pointed33 out the beauties of the road, and her unsteady footsteps that he guided over rough and declivitous34 paths. To her he also turned for serious conversation. The flowers and the New York Herald35 came to her room as unfailingly as the morning coffee. He manifested the same tender solicitude36 as to her possible sufferings from hunger, drought, dust or fatigue37. He paid her regal honour. In this he was aided and abetted38 by Etta Concannon, who had her own pretty ways of performing homage39. In fact, the care of Clementina soon became at once a rivalry40 and a bond between them, and Clementina, so far from being neglected, found herself the victim of emulous and sometimes embarrassing ministrations. As she herself phrased it in a moment of bitter irony41, they were making love over her live body.
They left Vienne, Tommy having made sufficient studies for immortal42 studio paintings, and took up their quarters at Valence. There is a spaciousness43 about Valence rare in provincial44 towns of France. You stand in the middle of wide boulevards, the long vista45 closed at one end by the far blue tops of the mountains of the Vivarais, and at the other by the distant Alps, and you think you are dwelling46 in some sweet city in the air. In the clear sunshine it is as bright and as crisp as a cameo.
“I love Vienne, but I adore Valence,” said Etta Concannon. “Here I can breathe.”
They were sitting on the terrace of a café in the Place de la République in front of the great monument to Emile Augier. It was the cool of the evening and a fresh breeze came from the mountains.
“I, too, am glad to get out of Vienne,” said Clementina.
Tommy protested. “That’s treason, Clementina. We had such ripping times there. Do you remember the evening I fetched you out to see the Temple of Augustus and Livia?”
Clementina gave one of her non-committal grunts47. She did indeed remember it. But for that night the three of them would not have been sitting together over coffee at Valence.
“Tommy’s so sentimental,” Etta remarked.
“Since when have you been calling him ‘Tommy’?” asked Clementina.
“We fixed48 that up this afternoon,” he said, cheerfully. ‘Mr. Burgrave’ suggests an afternoon party where one carts tea and food about—not a chummy motor tour.”
“We agreed to adopt each other as cousins,” said Etta.
“We were kind of lonely, you know,” laughed Tommy. “We happen to have no cousins of our own, and, besides, you deserted49 us to-day, and we felt like two abandoned babes in the car.”
“I don’t think you were much to be pitied,” said Clementina.
In pursuance of her scheme of self-annihilation she had several times sent them out on jaunts50 together, while she herself went for a grim walk in the dust and heat. This afternoon Etta had returned radiant. She had had the time of her life, and Tommy was the dearest thing that ever happened. Etta was addicted51 to the hyperbole of her generation. At dinner Tommy had admitted the general amenity52 of their excursion to Valence Crest—and now came the avowal53 of the establishment of their cousinly and intimate relations. The scheme was succeeding admirably. How could it fail? Throw together two bright, impressionable and innocent young humans of opposite sexes, and of the same social position, link them by a common tie, let them spend hours in each other’s company, withdraw the ordinary restrictions54 that limit the intercourse55 of such beings in everyday society, bathe them in sunshine and drench56 their souls with beauty, and you have the Garden of Eden over again, the Serpent being replaced by his chubby57 and winged successor. The result is almost inevitable58. But you can withdraw with certainty the qualifying adverb, when one of the potentially high contracting parties has been suffering from heart-scratch, and has announced her intention of becoming a hospital nurse.
I am quite aware that in the eyes of the world Clementina’s conduct was outrageous59. Etta was the only child of a wealthy admiral; Tommy, a penniless painter. Admiral Concannon had confidently entrusted60 his daughter to her care and had not the least idea of what was going on. When the disastrous61 story should reach his ears, he would foam62 righteously at the mouth, and use, with perfect justification63, the most esoteric of quarter-deck language. I do not attempt to defend Clementina. All the same, you must remember that in Tommy Burgrave she was giving to Etta as a free gift her most priceless possession. Tommy in her eyes was the real Prince Charming—at present, as often happens in fairy tales, under a cloud, but destined64 in real life, as in the fairy tales, to come, by a speedy wave of the magic wand, into his principality. As to the waving of the magic wand, she had her own ideas. She was quite prepared to weather the admiral’s storm.
“There was never anything so sudden but the fight of two rams,” is Rosalind’s startling description of the courtship between Oliver and Celia. These lovers, however, were Elizabethans who did things in a large, splendid and unhesitating way. The case with Tommy and Etta, who were moderns, governed by all kinds of subtleties65 and delicacies66, three centuries’ growth, was not quite so instantaneous. The ordinary modern youth and maiden67, of such clean upbringing, walk along together, hand in hand in perfect innocence68, for a long time, never realising that they are in love with one another till something happens. The maiden may be sent into the country by an infuriated mother. Hence revelation with anguish21. The indiscreet jesting of a friend, a tragedy causing both to come hard against the bed-rock facts of life, may shatter the guileless shell of their love. I know of two young things who came by the knowledge through bumping their heads together beneath a table while searching for a fallen penny. A shock, a jar is all that is needed. But with Tommy and Etta nothing yet had happened. They walked along together sweetly imagining themselves to be fancy-free. If the truth were known it would be found that the main subject of their conversation was Clementina.
When the time came for them to leave the café, Tommy helped both ladies to put on their jackets. The human warmth of the crowded terrace sheltered from the mountain breeze by the awnings69 had rendered wraps unnecessary. But outside they discovered the air to be chill. Clementina first was invested—with the slightest hint of hurry. She turned and saw Tommy snatch Etta’s jacket from a far too ready waiter’s hand. In his investiture of Etta there was the slightest hint of lingering. In the nice adjustment of the collar their fingers touched. The girl raised laughing eyes which his met tenderly. A knife was thrust through Clementina’s heart and she closed her thin lips tightly to dissimulate70 the pain.
Etta came into her room that night under the vague pretence71 of playing maid and helping72 her to undress. Her aid chiefly consisted in sitting on the bed and chattering73 out of a bird-like happiness.
“It’s all just heaven,” she declared. “I wish I could show you how grateful I am. I’ve had nothing like it all my life. When I get home I won’t rest till I’ve teased father into getting a car—he’s so old-fashioned you know, and thinks his fat old horses and the family omnibus make up the only equipage for a gentleman. But I’ll worry him into a car, and then we’ll go all over Europe. But it won’t be quite the same without—without you, Clementina, dear.”
“I thought you were going to be a hospital nurse.”
“So did I,” said the girl, a shadow flitting swiftly over her face. “But I don’t seem to want to now, I should hate it.”
Etta, on the bed, nursed her knee. Her fair hair fell in a mass about her shoulders. She looked the picture of innocence—a female child Samuel out of an illustrated78 Family Bible.
“The sight of you, darling, at Lyons Station.”
But she forebore to question the girl further. She had no intention of supplying the necessary shock above mentioned. The observance of the gradual absorption of these two young souls one in the other was far too delicious an agony to be wantonly broken. Besides, it hardened her nature (so she fondly imagined), dried up the newly found well-head of passion, reduced the soft full woman back to the stony-hearted; wooden-faced, bitter-tongued, cynical79, portrait-painting automaton80, the enviable, self-mutilated Clementina of a few months ago. When a woman wants to punish herself she does so conscientiously81. The offending Eve should be thoroughly82 whipped out of her.
The car of thirty-five million dove-power sped through the highways of sunny France—through enchanted83 forest glades84, over mountains of the moon; through cities of wonderland, so, at least, it seemed to two young souls. For Clementina, alas85, the glamour of sky and sunshine and greenery had departed. For Johnson, happy possessor of a carburation in lieu of a temperament86 it had never existed. From Valence they struck north-west, though St. Etienne, Roanne, Nevers, Bourges. It was at Bourges that she came upon the two young people unawares.
She had entered, not knowing where they were, for they had gone off together, the cloistered87 courtyard of the H?tel de Jacques C?ur. Now the cloister88 forms an arcaded89 gallery a few feet above the ground, which is reached by a flight of steps. She heard voices, approached hidden from them, beheld90 the pair sitting on the bottom step, in the cool shadow.
“I should never get the whole adorableness of this,” said Tommy, “if I hadn’t you beside me. You and I seem to be like the two barrels of a field-glass—adjusted to one focus.”
Clementina, hugging the wall, tip-toed out of the cloister. There was only one alternative, a whirlwind, a hurricane of a temptation which she was strong enough to resist: to descend91 then and there and box his ears soundly.
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1
effusively
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| adv.变溢地，热情洋溢地 | |
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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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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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7
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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morosely
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| adv.愁眉苦脸地，忧郁地 | |
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dowdy
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| adj.不整洁的；过旧的 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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martinet
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| n.要求严格服从纪律的人 | |
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languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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pester
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| v.纠缠，强求 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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debonair
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| adj.殷勤的，快乐的 | |
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zealously
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| adv.热心地；热情地；积极地；狂热地 | |
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vassal
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| n.附庸的；属下；adj.奴仆的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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declivitous
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| adj.相当陡的，向下倾斜的 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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solicitude
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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abetted
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| v.教唆（犯罪）( abet的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；怂恿；支持 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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spaciousness
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| n.宽敞 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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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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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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jaunts
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| n.游览( jaunt的名词复数 ) | |
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51
addicted
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| adj.沉溺于....的，对...上瘾的 | |
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52
amenity
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| n.pl.生活福利设施，文娱康乐场所；（不可数）愉快，适意 | |
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avowal
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| n.公开宣称，坦白承认 | |
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54
restrictions
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| 约束( restriction的名词复数 )； 管制； 制约因素； 带限制性的条件（或规则） | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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drench
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| v.使淋透，使湿透 | |
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chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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62
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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justification
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| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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subtleties
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| 细微( subtlety的名词复数 )； 精细； 巧妙； 细微的差别等 | |
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delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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awnings
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| 篷帐布 | |
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dissimulate
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| v.掩饰，隐藏 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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75
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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76
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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77
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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78
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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79
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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automaton
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| n.自动机器，机器人 | |
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81
conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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82
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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83
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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84
glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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86
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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87
cloistered
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| adj.隐居的，躲开尘世纷争的v.隐退，使与世隔绝( cloister的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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89
arcaded
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| adj.成为拱廊街道的，有列拱的 | |
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90
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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91
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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