“I bet old Benjy's feeling a bit cheap,” said he, as they got out of their cab at the church door and passed between the crowded files of unelect, whose eyes, so curious and pitiful, devoured1 them from the pavement.
The ashen2 face of a woman, with a baby in her arms and two more by her side, looked as eager as if she had never experienced the pangs3 of ragged4 matrimony. Shelton went in inexplicably5 uneasy; the price of his tie was their board and lodging6 for a week. He followed his future brother-in-law to a pew on the bridegroom's side, for, with intuitive perception of the sexes' endless warfare7, each of the opposing parties to this contract had its serried8 battalion9, the arrows of whose suspicion kept glancing across and across the central aisle10.
Bill Dennant's eyes began to twinkle.
“There's old Benjy!” he whispered; and Shelton looked at the hero of the day. A subdued11 pallor was traceable under the weathered uniformity of his shaven face; but the well-bred, artificial smile he bent12 upon the guests had its wonted steely suavity13. About his dress and his neat figure was that studied ease which lifts men from the ruck of common bridegrooms. There were no holes in his armour14 through which the impertinent might pry15.
“Good old Benjy!” whispered young Dennant; “I say, they look a bit short of class, those Casserols.”
Shelton, who was acquainted with this family, smiled. The sensuous16 sanctity all round had begun to influence him. A perfume of flowers and dresses fought with the natural odour of the church; the rustle17 of whisperings and skirts struck through the native silence of the aisles18, and Shelton idly fixed19 his eyes on a lady in the pew in front; without in the least desiring to make a speculation20 of this sort, he wondered whether her face was as charming as the lines of her back in their delicate, skin-tight setting of pearl grey; his glance wandered to the chancel with its stacks of flowers, to the grave, business faces of the presiding priests, till the organ began rolling out the wedding march.
“They're off!” whispered young Dermant.
Shelton was conscious of a shiver running through the audience which reminded him of a bullfight he had seen in Spain. The bride came slowly up the aisle. “Antonia will look like that,” he thought, “and the church will be filled with people like this . . . . She'll be a show to them!” The bride was opposite him now, and by an instinct of common chivalry21 he turned away his eyes; it seemed to him a shame to look at that downcast head above the silver mystery of her perfect raiment; the modest head full, doubtless, of devotion and pure yearnings; the stately head where no such thought as “How am I looking, this day of all days, before all London?” had ever entered; the proud head, which no such fear as “How am I carrying it off?” could surely be besmirching22.
He saw below the surface of this drama played before his eyes, and set his face, as a man might who found himself assisting at a sacrifice. The words fell, unrelenting, on his ears: “For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health—” and opening the Prayer Book he found the Marriage Service, which he had not looked at since he was a boy, and as he read he had some very curious sensations.
All this would soon be happening to himself! He went on reading in a kind of stupor23, until aroused by his companion whispering, “No luck!” All around there rose a rustling24 of skirts; he saw a tall figure mount the pulpit and stand motionless. Massive and high-featured, sunken of eye, he towered, in snowy cambric and a crimson25 stole, above the blackness of his rostrum; it seemed he had been chosen for his beauty. Shelton was still gazing at the stitching of his gloves, when once again the organ played the Wedding March. All were smiling, and a few were weeping, craning their heads towards the bride. “Carnival of second-hand26 emotions!” thought Shelton; and he, too, craned his head and brushed his hat. Then, smirking27 at his friends, he made his way towards the door.
In the Casserols' house he found himself at last going round the presents with the eldest28 Casserol surviving, a tall girl in pale violet, who had been chief bridesmaid.
“Did n't it go off well, Mr. Shelton?” she was saying
“I always think it's so awkward for the man waiting up there for the bride to come.”
“Yes,” murmured Shelton.
“Don't you think it's smart, the bridesmaids having no hats?”
Shelton had not noticed this improvement, but he agreed.
“By Jove!” Shelton hastened to remark.
“Oh, its fearfully useful to have a lot of things you don't want; of course, you change them for those you do.”
The whole of London seemed to have disgorged its shops into this room; he looked at Miss Casserol's face, and was greatly struck by the shrewd acquisitiveness of her small eyes.
“Is that your future brother-in-law?” she asked, pointing to Bill Dennant with a little movement of her chin; “I think he's such a bright boy. I want you both to come to dinner, and help to keep things jolly. It's so deadly after a wedding.”
And Shelton said they would.
They adjourned31 to the hall now, to wait for the bride's departure. Her face as she came down the stairs was impassive, gay, with a furtive32 trouble in the eyes, and once more Shelton had the odd sensation of having sinned against his manhood. Jammed close to him was her old nurse, whose puffy, yellow face was pouting33 with emotion, while tears rolled from her eyes. She was trying to say something, but in the hubbub34 her farewell was lost. There was a scamper35 to the carriage, a flurry of rice and flowers; the shoe was flung against the sharply drawn-up window. Then Benjy's shaven face was seen a moment, bland36 and steely; the footman folded his arms, and with a solemn crunch37 the brougham wheels rolled away. “How splendidly it went off!” said a voice on Shelton's right. “She looked a little pale,” said a voice on Shelton's left. He put his hand up to his forehead; behind him the old nurse sniffed38.
“Dick,” said young Dennant in his ear, “this isn't good enough; I vote we bolt.”
Shelton assenting39, they walked towards the Park; nor could he tell whether the slight nausea40 he experienced was due to afternoon champagne41 or to the ceremony that had gone so well.
Bill Dennant stopped in the middle of the crossing, and clapped his future brother-in-law upon the shoulder.
“Oh,” said he, “if you're going to talk shop, I 'm off.”
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1
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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2
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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3
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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4
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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inexplicably
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| adv.无法说明地，难以理解地，令人难以理解的是 | |
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6
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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7
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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serried
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| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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10
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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12
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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suavity
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| n.温和；殷勤 | |
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14
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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15
pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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16
sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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17
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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18
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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19
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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20
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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21
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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22
besmirching
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| v.弄脏( besmirch的现在分词 )；玷污；丑化；糟蹋（名誉等） | |
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23
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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24
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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25
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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26
second-hand
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| adj.用过的，旧的，二手的 | |
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27
smirking
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| v.傻笑( smirk的现在分词 ) | |
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28
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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29
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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30
chic
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| n./adj.别致(的)，时髦(的)，讲究的 | |
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31
adjourned
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| （使）休会， （使）休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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33
pouting
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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34
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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35
scamper
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| v.奔跑，快跑 | |
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36
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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37
crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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38
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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39
assenting
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| 同意，赞成( assent的现在分词 ) | |
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40
nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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41
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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42
glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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43
humbugs
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| 欺骗( humbug的名词复数 )； 虚伪； 骗子； 薄荷硬糖 | |
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