When John Hathaway appeared on the horizon, she promptly8 clothed him in all the beautiful garments of her dreams; they were a grotesque9 misfit, but when we intimate that women have confused the dream and the reality before, and may even do so again, we make the only possible excuse for poor little Susanna Nelson.
John Hathaway was the very image of the outer world that lay beyond Susanna's village. He was a fairly prosperous, genial10, handsome young merchant, who looked upon life as a place furnished by Providence11 in which to have “a good time.” His parents had frequently told him that it was expedient12 for him to “settle down,” and he supposed that he might finally do so, if he should ever find a girl who would tempt13 him to relinquish14 his liberty. (The line that divides liberty and license15 was a little vague to John Hathaway!) It is curious that he should not have chosen for his life-partner some thoughtless, rosy16, romping17 young person, whose highest conception of connubial18 happiness would have been to drive twenty miles to the seashore on a Sunday, and having partaken of all the season's delicacies19, solid and liquid, to come home hilarious20 by moonlight. That, however, is not the way the little love-imps21 do their work in the world; or is it possible that they are not imps at all who provoke and stimulate22 and arrange these strange marriages not imps, but honest, chastening little character-builders? In any event, the moment that John Hathaway first beheld23 Susanna Nelson was the moment of his surrender; yet the wooing was as incomprehensible as that of a fragile, dainty little hummingbird24 by a pompous25, greedy, big-breasted robin26.
Susanna was like a New England anemone27. Her face was oval in shape and as smooth and pale as a pearl. Her hair was dark, not very heavy, and as soft as a child's. Her lips were delicate and sensitive, her eyes a cool gray,—clear, steady, and shaded by darker lashes28. When John Hathaway met her shy, maidenly29 glance and heard her pretty, dovelike voice, it is strange he did not see that there was a bit too much saint in her to make her a willing comrade of his gay, roistering life. But as a matter of fact, John Hathaway saw nothing at all; nothing but that Susanna Nelson was a lovely girl and he wanted her for his own. The type was one he had never met before, one that allured30 him by its mysteries and piqued31 him by its shy aloofness32.
John had “a way with him,” a way that speedily won Susanna; and after all there was a best to him as well as a worst. He had a twinkling eye, an infectious laugh, a sweet disposition33, and while he was over-susceptible to the charm of a pretty face, he had a chivalrous34 admiration35 for all women, coupled, it must be confessed, with a decided36 lack of discrimination in values. His boyish lightheartedness had a charm for everybody, including Susanna; a charm that lasted until she discovered that his heart was light not only when it ought to be light, but when it ought to be heavy. He was very much in love with her, but there was nothing particularly exclusive, unique, individual, or interesting about his passion at that time. It was of the everyday sort which carries a well-meaning man to the altar, and sometimes, in cases of exceptional fervor37 and duration, even a little farther. Stock sizes of this article are common and inexpensive, and John Hathaway's love when he married Susanna was, judged by the highest standards, about as trivial an affair as Cupid ever put upon the market or a man ever offered to a woman. Susanna on the same day offered John, or the wooden idol38 she was worshiping as John, her whole self—mind, body, heart, and spirit. So the couple were united, and smilingly signed the marriage-register, a rite39 by which their love for each other was supposed to be made eternal.
“Will you love me?” said he.
“Will you love me?” said she.
Then they answered together:
From sunrise to moonrise,
From moonrise to sunrise,
By heath and by harbour,
In the time of the rose,
In the time of the snows,
We'll love one another!”
Cinderella, when the lover-prince discovers her and fits the crystal slipper43 to her foot, makes short work of flinging away her rags; and in some such pretty, airy, unthinking way did Susanna fling aside the dullness, inhospitality, and ugliness of her uncle's home and depart in a cloud of glory on her wedding journey. She had been lonely, now she would have companionship. She had been of no consequence, now she would be queen of her own small domain44. She had been last with everybody, now she would be first with one, at least. She had worked hard and received neither compensation nor gratitude45; henceforward her service would be gladly rendered at an altar where votive offerings would not be taken as a matter of course. She was only a slip of a girl now; marriage and housewifely cares would make her a woman. Some time perhaps the last great experience of life would come to her, and then what a crown of joys would be hers,—love, husband, home, children! What a vision it was, and how soon the chief glory of it faded!
Never were two beings more hopelessly unlike than John Hathaway single and John Hathaway married, but the bliss46 lasted a few years, nevertheless: partly because Susanna's charm was deep and penetrating47, the sort to hold a false man for a time and a true man forever; partly because she tried, as a girl or woman has seldom tried before, to do her duty and to keep her own ideal unshattered.
John had always been convivial48, but Susanna at seventeen had been at once too innocent and too ignorant to judge a man's tendencies truly, or to rate his character at its real worth. As time went on, his earlier leanings grew more definite; he spent on pleasure far more than he could afford, and his conduct became a byword in the neighborhood. His boy he loved. He felt on a level with Jack49, could understand him, play with him, punish him, and make friends with him; but little Sue was different. She always seemed to him the concentrated essence of her mother's soul, and when unhappy days came, he never looked in her radiant, searching eyes without a consciousness of inferiority. The little creature had loved her jolly, handsome, careless father at first, even though she feared him; but of late she had grown shy, silent, and timid, for his indifference50 chilled her and she flung herself upon her mother's love with an almost unchildlike intensity51. This unhappy relation between the child and the father gave Susanna's heart new pangs52. She still loved her husband, not dearly, but a good deal; and over and above that remnant of the old love which still endured she gave him unstinted care and hopeful maternal53 tenderness.
The crash came in course of time. John transcended54 the bounds of his wife's patience more and more. She made her last protests; then she took one passionate55 day to make up her mind, a day when John and the boy were away together; a day of complete revolt against everything she was facing in the present, and, so far as she could see, everything that she had to face in the future. Prayer for light left her in darkness, and she had no human creature to advise her. Conscience was overthrown56; she could see no duty save to her own outraged57 personality. Often and often during the year just past she had thought of the peace, the grateful solitude58 and shelter of that Shaker Settlement hidden among New England orchards59; that quiet haven60 where there was neither marrying nor giving in marriage. Now her bruised61 heart longed for such a life of nunlike62 simplicity63 and consecration64, where men and women met only as brothers and sisters, where they worked side by side with no thought of personal passion or personal gain, but only for the common good of the community.
Albion village was less than three hours distant by train. She hastily gathered her plainest clothes and Sue's, packed them in a small trunk, took her mother's watch, her own little store of money and the twenty-dollar gold piece John's senior partner had given Sue on her last birthday, wrote a letter of goodbye to John, and went out of her cottage gate in a storm of feeling so tumultuous that there was no room for reflection. Besides, she had reflected, and reflected, for months and months, so she would have said, and the time had come for action. Susanna was not unlettered, but she certainly had never read Meredith or she would have learned that “love is an affair of two, and only for two that can be as quick, as constant in intercommunication as are sun and earth, through the cloud, or face to face. They take their breath of life from each other in signs of affection, proofs of faithfulness, incentives65 to admiration. But a solitary66 soul dragging a log must make the log a God to rejoice in the burden.” The demigod that poor, blind Susanna married had vanished, and she could drag the log no longer, but she made one mistake in judging her husband, in that she regarded him, at thirty-two, as a finished product, a man who was finally this and that, and behaved thus and so, and would never be any different.
The “age of discretion” is a movable feast of extraordinary uncertainty67, and John Hathaway was a little behindhand in overtaking it. As a matter of fact, he had never for an instant looked life squarely in the face. He took a casual glance at it now and then, after he was married, but it presented no very distinguishable features, nothing to make him stop and think, nothing to arouse in him any special sense of responsibility. Boys have a way of “growing up,” however, sooner or later, at least most of them have, and that possibility was not sufficiently68 in the foreground of Susanna's mind when she finished what she considered an exhaustive study of her husband's character.
I am leaving you, John [she wrote], to see if I can keep the little love I have left for you as the father of my children. I seem to have lost all the rest of it living with you. I am not perfectly69 sure that I am right in going, for everybody seems to think that women, mothers especially, should bear anything rather than desert the home. I could not take Jack away, for you love him and he will be a comfort to you. A comfort to you, yes, but what will you be to him now that he is growing older? That is the thought that troubles me, yet I dare not take him with me when he is half yours. You will not miss me, nor will the loss of Sue make any difference. Oh, John! how can you help loving that blessed little creature, so much better and so much more gifted than either of us that we can only wonder how we came to be her father and mother? Your sin against her is greater than that against me, for at least you are not responsible for bringing me into the world. I know Louisa will take care of Jack, and she lives so near that you can see him as often as you wish. I shall let her know my address, which I have asked her to keep to herself. She will write to me if you or Jack should be seriously ill, but not for any other reason.
As for you, there is nothing more that I can say except to confess freely that I was not the right wife for you and that mine was not the only mistake. I have tried my very best to meet you in everything that was not absolutely wrong, and I have used all the arguments I could think of, but it only made matters worse. I thought I knew you, John, in the old days. How comes it that we have traveled so far apart, we who began together? It seems to me that some time you must come to your senses and take up your life seriously, for this is not life, the sorry thing you have lived lately, but I cannot wait any longer! I am tired, tired, tired of waiting and hoping, too tired to do anything but drag myself away from the sight of your folly70. You have wasted our children's substance, indulged your appetites until you have lost the respect of your best friends, and you have made me—who was your choice, your wife, the head of your house, the woman who brought your children into the world—you have made me an object of pity; a poor, neglected thing who could not meet her neighbors' eyes without blushing.
When Jack and his father returned from their outing at eight o'clock in the evening, having had supper at a wayside hotel, the boy went to bed philosophically71, lighting72 his lamp for himself, the conclusion being that the two other members of the household were a little late, but would be in presently.
The next morning was bright and fair. Jack waked at cockcrow, and after calling to his mother and Sue, jumped out of bed, ran into their rooms to find them empty, then bounced down the stairs two at a time, going through the sitting-room73 on his way to find Ellen in the kitchen. His father was sitting at the table with the still-lighted student lamp on it; the table where lessons had been learned, books read, stories told, mending done, checkers and dominoes played; the big, round walnut74 table that was the focus of the family life—but mother's table, not father's.
John Hathaway had never left his chair nor taken off his hat. His cane75 leaned against his knee, his gloves were in his left hand, while the right held Susanna's letter.
He was asleep, although his lips twitched76 and he stirred uneasily. His face was haggard, and behind his closed lids, somewhere in the center of thought and memory, a train of fiery77 words burned in an ever-widening circle, round and round and round, ploughing, searing their way through some obscure part of him that had heretofore been without feeling, but was now all quick and alive with sensation.
You have made me—who was your choice, your wife, the head of your house, the woman who brought your children into the world—you have made me an object of pity; a poor, neglected thing who could not meet her neighbors' eyes without blushing.
Any one who wished to pierce John Hathaway's armor at that period of his life would have had to use a very sharp and pointed78 arrow, for he was well wadded with the belief that a man has a right to do what he likes. Susanna's shaft79 was tipped with truth and dipped in the blood of her outraged heart. The stored-up force of silent years went into the speeding of it. She had never shot an arrow before, and her skill was instinctive80 rather than scientific, but the powers were on her side and she aimed better than she knew—those who took note of John Hathaway's behavior that summer would have testified willingly to that. It was the summer in which his boyish irresponsibility slipped away from him once and for all; a summer in which the face of life ceased to be an indistinguishable mass of meaningless events and disclosed an order, a reason, a purpose hitherto unseen and undefined. The boy “grew up,” rather tardily81 it must be confessed. His soul had not added a cubit to its stature82 in sunshine, gayety, and prosperity; it took the shock of grief, hurt pride, solitude, and remorse83 to make a man of John Hathaway.
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1
cogent
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| adj.强有力的，有说服力的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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immature
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| adj.未成熟的，发育未全的，未充分发展的 | |
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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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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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8
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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12
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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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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relinquish
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| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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16
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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17
romping
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| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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18
connubial
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| adj.婚姻的，夫妇的 | |
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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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hilarious
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| adj.充满笑声的，欢闹的；[反]depressed | |
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21
imps
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| n.（故事中的）小恶魔( imp的名词复数 )；小魔鬼；小淘气；顽童 | |
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22
stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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23
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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24
hummingbird
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| n.蜂鸟 | |
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pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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anemone
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| n.海葵 | |
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28
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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29
maidenly
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| adj. 像处女的, 谨慎的, 稳静的 | |
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30
allured
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| 诱引，吸引( allure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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piqued
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| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 )；激起（好奇心） | |
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32
aloofness
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| 超然态度 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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34
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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35
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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41
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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42
smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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43
slipper
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| n.拖鞋 | |
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44
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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45
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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46
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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47
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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48
convivial
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| adj.狂欢的，欢乐的 | |
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49
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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50
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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51
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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52
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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53
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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54
transcended
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| 超出或超越（经验、信念、描写能力等）的范围( transcend的过去式和过去分词 )； 优于或胜过… | |
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55
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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56
overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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57
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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58
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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59
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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60
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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61
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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62
nunlike
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| adj.太阳似的，非常明亮的，辉煌的 | |
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63
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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consecration
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| n.供献，奉献，献祭仪式 | |
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incentives
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| 激励某人做某事的事物( incentive的名词复数 )； 刺激； 诱因； 动机 | |
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66
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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67
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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68
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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69
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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70
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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philosophically
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| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
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72
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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73
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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74
walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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75
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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76
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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77
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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78
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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79
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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80
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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81
tardily
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| adv.缓慢 | |
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82
stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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83
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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