"Good-bye, again; good-bye!"
"Good-bye, my dear; perhaps not for ever, though: I may make my way back to the old country once more. You will tell my old friend I kept my word to him:" and then the speaker kissed the woman to whom he addressed these parting words tenderly, went quickly away, and was hidden from her in a moment by all the bewildering confusion of "board ship" at the hour of sailing.
He had not waited for words in reply to his farewell; she could not have spoken them, and he knew it; and while she tried to make out his figure among the groups upon the deck, formed of those who were about to set forth2 upon the long perilous3 ocean voyage, and those who had come to bid them good-bye, some with hearts full of agony, a few careless and gay enough, a suffocating4 silence held her.
But when at length she saw him for one brief moment as he went over the side to the boat waiting to take him to the shore so long familiar to her, but already, under the wonderful action of change, seeming strange and distant, the spell was lifted off her, and a deep gasping5 sob6 burst from her lips.
A very little longer, and the boat, with its solitary7 passenger, was a speck8 upon the water; and then she bowed her head, unconsciously, and slightly waved her hand, and went below.
There was no one person in all the crowd upon the deck of the good ship Boomerang sufficiently9 disengaged from his or her own cares to take any notice of the little scene which had just passed--only one amid a number in the great drama which is always being acted, and for which a ship with its full complement10 of passengers, at the moment of beginning a long voyage, is a capacious and fine theatre. Selfishness and self-engrossment come out strongly in such a scene, and are as excusable under such circumstances as they ever can be.
She was quite alone in the little world of the ship; in the great world of England, to which she was going, she might find herself alone too, for who could say what tidings might await her there? in the inner world of her heart she was still more surely and utterly12 alone. In the slight shiver, in the forlorn glance around, which had accompanied her gesture of farewell to the man who had escorted her on board, there was something expressive13 of a suddenly deepened sense of this solitude14.
In the cabin, which she shared with her maid only, she found this sole and newly-selected companion making such preparation as she could for the comfort of her mistress. The girl's face was kind and pleasant and handsome; but the sight of it did not lessen15 the sense of her solitude to Margaret Hungerford, for the kind and handsome face was also strange.
Rose Moore, whom she had engaged to act as her servant during the voyage, was an orphan16 girl, who wished to return to Ireland to her "friends," as the Irish people, with striking inaccuracy of speech and touching17 credulity, designate their relatives.
When Margaret Hungerford had lain down upon the little crib, which was to serve her for a bed during a period which would sound appalling18 in duration in the ears of a world so much accelerated in everything as our world of to-day is, she thought of Rose Moore, and of the difference between her own position and that of the girl who was to be her companion.
"She is going home to friends," she thought, "to a warm welcome, to a kindly19 fireside, and she is bringing money with her to gild20 the welcome, to gladden the hearth21; while I--I am returning alone--O, how utterly alone!--and destitute22--ah, how destitute!--I, to whom not even the past is left; I, who do not possess even the right to grieve; I, to whom life has been only a mistake, only a delusion23. I am returning to a home in which I was regarded rather as a trouble than anything else in my childhood, and which I was held to have disgraced in my girlhood. Returning to it, to feel that the judgment24 I set aside, the wisdom I derided25, was right judgment and true wisdom, and that the best I can hope is to keep them from ever finding out how terribly right they were. The only real friend I now possess I am leaving behind me here; and I am glad it is so, because he knows all the truth. Surely no one in the world can be more lonely than I."
Margaret Hungerford lay quietly in her narrow bed, while the ship resounded26 with all the indescribable and excruciating noises which form a portion of the tortures of a sea-voyage.
She did not suffer from them, nor from the motion. She was tired, too tired in body and mind to care about discomfort27, and she did not dislike the sea. So she lay still, while Rose Moore moved about in the little space allotted28 to the two, and which she regarded as a den1 rather than a "state-room," looking now and then curiously29 at her mistress, whom she had not had much previous opportunity of observing.
The girl looked at a face which was not less remarkable30 for its beauty than for its expression of weariness and sorrow, at a figure not more noticeable for its grace and suppleness31 than for the languor32 and listlessness which every movement betrayed.
Margaret Hungerford was tall, but not so tall as to be remarked for her height; and her figure, rounded and lithe33, had still much of the slightness of girlhood remaining. Her face was not perfect; the forehead was too high and too heavy for ideal beauty; there was not enough colour in the clear pale cheek; there was not enough richness in the outline of the delicate mouth. Her face was one in which intellect ruled, and thus its beauty served a master which is pitiless in its exactions, and wears out the softness and the fineness and the tinting34 in a service which is not gentle.
But it was a beautiful face for all that, more than beautiful for those who looked beyond the deep dark colouring of the large gray eyes, deep-set under the finely-marked brows; who looked for the spirit in their light, for the calm and courage which lent them the limpid35 placid36 beaming which was their ordinary characteristic. It was not a perfect face; but it had that which very few perfect faces possess--the capacity for expressing feeling, intelligence, the nobler passions, and utter forgetfulness of self.
To look at Margaret Hungerford was to feel that, however faulty her character might be, it at least was noble, and to know that vanity had no share in an organisation37 which had no place for anything small, whether good or evil. It was a magnanimous resolute38 face--not strong, in any sense implying roughness, hardness, or self-assertion, but evincing a large capacity of loving and working and suffering.
And she had loved and worked and suffered. The bloom that was wanting to her pure fair cheek, which touched too faintly and grudgingly39 her small, well-curved, but ascetic40 lips, had vanished from her heart as well; the slight white fingers, too thin for beauty,--though the hands, clasped over her breast as she lay still with closed eyes, were curiously small and perfectly41 shaped,--had been unsparingly used in many and various kinds of toil42 in the new land, which had been wild and rough indeed when she had come there.
The girl looked at her admiringly, and with a sort of pity, for which she had no reason to give to herself except that her mistress was a widow. Explanation enough, she would have said, and naturally; and still, there was something in the face which Rose Moore felt, in her untaught, instinctive43, but very acute fashion, had been there longer than three months, which was the exact period since Mrs. Hungerford's husband had died.
Who was she going to? she thought; and did she like going home? and what was she leaving behind? Not her husband's grave, the girl knew, and felt the knowledge as an Irish peasant would feel it. No, she had not even that consolation44; for her husband, who had been a member of one of the earliest-formed exploring parties who had undertaken to investigate the capacities of the unknown new continent, had been killed in the Australian bush. It was better not to think what the fate of his remains45 had been, better that it was not known.
What, then, was this pale young widow, who looked as though her sorrow far antedated46 her weeds, leaving behind her? Rose Moore was not destined47 to know. What was she going to? the girl wondered. In the short time she had been with her, Mrs. Hungerford's kindness had been accompanied with strict reserve, and Rose had learned no more than that she was returning, probably, to her father's home; but of even that she was not certain.
Thus the "lone11 woman" seemed pitiable to the gay and handsome Irish girl, and the thought of it interfered48 with her visions of "home," and her exultation49 in the money she had to take thither50, and the love she was going to find.
Pitiable indeed she was.
As the long low banks of Port Phillip faded from the sight of the passengers on board the "homeward bound," not a heart among the number but yearned51 with some keen and strong regret, too keen and strong to be overborne by the gladness of hope and the relief of having really begun the long voyage. Not a heart, not even that of Margaret Hungerford; for she had looked her last on the land where she had left her youth, and all its dreams and hopes; where love had died for her, and truth had failed; where she had been rudely awakened52, and had never again found rest.
At such a time, at such a crisis in life, retrospection is inevitable53, however undesirable54; however painful and vain, it must be submitted to. The mind insists on passing the newly-expired epoch55 in review; in repeating, in the full and painful candour of its reverie, all the story so far told; in returning to the old illusions, and exposing their baselessness; in summoning up the defeated hopes, which, gauged56 by the measure of disappointment, appear so unreasonable--weighed in the balance of experience, seem so absurd.
Can I ever have been such a fool as to have believed that life held such possibilities? is the question we all ask at such times; and the self-contempt which inspires it is only as real, and no more, as the pain which no scorn or wonder can decrease.
So, like one performing an enforced task, with what patience it is possible to command, but wearily, and longing57 for the end, and for release, Margaret Hungerford, during the early days of the long voyage from Australia to England, gazed into her past life as into a mirror, and it gave her back a succession of images, of which the chief were these which follow.
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1
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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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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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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9
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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complement
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| n.补足物，船上的定员；补语；vt.补充，补足 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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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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lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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gild
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| vt.给…镀金，把…漆成金色，使呈金色 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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derided
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| v.取笑，嘲笑( deride的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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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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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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suppleness
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| 柔软； 灵活； 易弯曲； 顺从 | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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tinting
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| 着色，染色（的阶段或过程） | |
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limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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organisation
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| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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grudgingly
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ascetic
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| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
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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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42
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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43
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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45
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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46
antedated
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| v.（在历史上）比…为早( antedate的过去式和过去分词 )；先于；早于；（在信、支票等上）填写比实际日期早的日期 | |
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47
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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48
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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49
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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50
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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51
yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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53
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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54
undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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55
epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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56
gauged
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| adj.校准的；标准的；量规的；量计的v.（用仪器）测量( gauge的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；计量；划分 | |
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57
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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