Her exquisite2 face was half concealed4 by the shadow of her large black hat, but over her round chin and throat, over the radiant hair that flowed in glittering little curls on to her muslin bodice, the afternoon sun, pouring through the long French window, rested brightly.
She had come upon Miss Chressham at tea; the delicate china was set out on the tulip-wood table, and Susannah, pale and fair in lavender, had laid aside her tapestry5 frame.
“A confession!” she smiled.
But her visitor’s face remained grave.
“It may come to that,” she said, and her sweet lips trembled.
Susannah Chressham looked at her, thinking of nothing but the frail6 and endearing beauty she saw. Selina had taken off her black lace pelisse, and from head to foot was in white, fine lawn, that billowed round the gilt7 chair. Her silk parasol, of the blue of a forget-me-not, rested against her knee, and at her breast was a cream-tinted rose.
“You are very serious,” said Miss Chressham tenderly.
“I think I have a serious matter to deal with,” breathed Miss Boyle.
There was a moment’s pause. Susannah poured out the tea; the pleasant sound of the cups as they touched one another and the whispering of her silks filled the silence.
Then Miss Boyle spoke8 again, with an effort.
“My dear,” she said pleadingly, “you must forgive me for coming to you. Had I had anyone else—But in town I know none, and I dare not go to my father or to—the persons concerned.”
Miss Chressham set down the cup she held.
“Why, what is the matter?” she asked finally, startled at the other’s tone.
Selina Boyle clasped her hands on her lap.
“What will you think of me?” she cried. “Do not let me entirely9 lose your good opinion; I am sufficiently10 distressed12 and humbled13.”
“I implore14 you to enlighten me,” answered Miss Chressham. “You agitate15 me, Selina.”
Miss Boyle opened her reticule and drew out a copy of the Gazette.
“This was found by my maid this morning. What am I to do? What am I to do, Susannah?” She unfolded the paper and pointed16 to a paragraph on the front page. “Read it,” she said in a voice almost inaudible.
“This duel17 between Mr. Markham and Captain Galton?” asked Miss Chressham, staring at the closely printed sheet.
“No, no! Below—look below.”
Susannah obeyed, and read the following sentences:
“The next item from the Beau Monde has been Communicated to Us by a Lady of Fashion whose Authority is beyond Reproach. It concerns the Happy Advent18 of Miss S—l—a B——le of Bristol into Town. The Cause of her Coming, it seems, is not that She may be, as her Friends expected, united to her Cousin, Sir Fr——is B——le. This Match has been Broken off, owing to the Lady’s Affection for a Noble Lord who is well known for his Success in Affairs of the Heart. His Lordship being so far Infatuated as to Request Miss S—l—a B——le in a Passionate19 Letter not to Marry her Cousin, she in a Reply equally Warm, gave the Desired Pledge, though it might have been supposed that His Lordship would allow the Lady the Liberty he had taken to Himself in making a Marriage of Convenience. The Friends of Miss S—l—a B——le and the Admirers of the Earl of L—dw——d Await with interest a Further Development of this Romance, the Course of which we Hope to be able to inform our Readers upon in a future Time.”
Miss Chressham laid the paper down. Her eyes darkened and her cheeks blanched20; she averted21 her glance from Selina Boyle.
“Well,” she said unsteadily, “this is ugly malice22; a pity you must notice it.”
“But you understand that I cannot ignore it,” breathed Miss Boyle entreatingly23.
The other lady turned slowly and faced her.
“I do not know quite how much you mean me to understand,” she said quietly, “nor why you should not take this paper to your father or Sir Francis.”
“I cannot take it to them,” answered Miss Boyle in a still way, “because what is said there is true.”
“Oh, my dear!” exclaimed Miss Chressham, touched to the heart.
“It is not an invention,” continued Selina. “Whoever wrote that knows the truth.” She bent25 forward until her hat concealed her drooping26 face and she clasped her slim hands tightly on her knees. “He wrote to me, as it says, and I answered, and—and that is the reason why I say no to my cousin.”
“There is no need to tell me this,” answered Susannah, trembling. “Why should you justify27 yourself to me, or speak to me of these things that are your own matter? I can believe you always right, Selina, without explanations.”
“But I want you to hear,” said Miss Boyle earnestly. “It has come to that point when someone must hear, and you are almost like his sister.”
Miss Chressham winced28 and averted her eyes.
“It is near two years ago since I first met him,” continued Miss Boyle in a low voice, “and from the very first we—he came to The Wells, and there spoke to me—” her words failed her; she pulled out her handkerchief and pressed it to her lips—“of the ruin that involved his fortunes.”
“Why pain yourself to speak of this?” asked Miss Chressham. “Indeed, I have no right to know—hardly to listen.”
Selina Boyle made an effort over her weakness.
“I entreat24 you, hear me! I deceived you, Susannah. I wrote to you, mentioning him lightly; I did not dare confide29 in you, and I was languishing30 for some word of him. We were then almost—secretly betrothed31.” She paused, struggling with her troubled breath. “He thought to go to Venice. Then he wrote to me about my lady and Mr. Lyndwood. I saw how hopeless and wrong it was. I—well, it was over.”
Susannah regarded her with eyes of a startled tenderness.
“Some of this I guessed,” she said; “but it was not for me to speak.”
Miss Boyle looked up.
“You guessed!” she exclaimed. “What must you have thought of me?”
“I thought it was no wonder,” she answered.
“You are too gentle with me.” Miss Boyle raised her hand to an agitated32 bosom33 and pressed her heart. “But, indeed, I never wrote to him again nor saw him save in public”—her voice was piteously humble—“until he sent me this letter, which—ah, I should not have answered it! But I could not have married Francis, you must understand. I told him so. I had no right.” She turned her head away sharply. “And now it is chalked up for all the world to see!” she said in a muffled34 voice; “I shall be the talk of London—and, since it is true, what am I to do?”
“Rose or Sir Francis will see it, and the matter will be out of our hands, my dear.”
“That is the least bearable thought,” answered Miss Boyle, “that they should meet on my account—and over this.”
Miss Chressham crossed to her chair.
“Do you then hope to conceal3 it?”
“If I could!”
“It is impossible,” said Susannah firmly. “That was not put there to be overlooked; it will be repeated.”
“If I could buy up the paper!” cried Selina frantically35. “Who could be so wantonly cruel?”
“Do you not guess? Rose’s wife.”
“The Countess!”
“Who else? Only someone in his house could have this knowledge of his correspondence, and she is that manner of woman.”
The outraged36 blood stormed Miss Boyle’s cheeks.
“You mean—oh, Susannah, you cannot mean that she reads his letters!”
“I have no doubt at all,” said Miss Chressham. “She and her maid spy on him, and on us, perpetually.”
“You think she has read that letter of mine!” cried Selina faintly. “But it is not possible; he would never have left it about. What must she think of me? Oh, that I should come to tremble at what may be thought!”
“I see no cause to tremble,” answered Susannah with resolution. “It is her shame, not yours. Who is she but an ill-bred spiteful woman?”
“Yet his wife,” murmured Miss Boyle; “and I had no right—oh!”—with an accent of deep distress11, “should I go to her, implore her not to think ill of me?”
Miss Chressham’s eyes flashed.
“What are you thinking of, my dear? She would insult you.”
“Indeed, I could not do it—discuss this—him—with his wife! This is terrible, and my fault!”
“It is Rose’s fault,” cried Susannah, with a heaving breast. “He had no right to do as he did. You and he considered it his duty; I never did. My lady was not penniless, and Marius could have taken his life in his own hands. Rose obeyed his own imprudence—his own recklessness—in marrying this woman; because of my lady’s tears and the reproaches of Marius he sells himself on the instant to a tradesman’s daughter, and brings into the family a creature that will surely ruin it!”
“Yet it was nobly done,” murmured Selina.
“But wilful37 nobleness, and in any case a mistake,” answered Miss Chressham; “a mistake we are all paying for in misery38 and bitterness. How dare he set this woman up as mistress of his house where she is in a position to work harm among all for whom he ever cared?”
“Maybe you are right, Susannah,” she said faintly and wistfully, “but—ah, well, I know what they say of him, nor can I justify my heart to my reason. Yet, if it were certain sin, as it is certain pain, I could not forbear from caring.”
“I am a fine one to preach,” said Miss Chressham in a desperate way. “Do I not know that he is lovable?” She left her chair and hung over Selina. “Do not shed tears about it. We will find some way, indeed we will.”
Miss Boyle turned and clung to her.
Susannah gathered the delicate fragrant39 loveliness into her arms and to her breast. She could feel the agitated heart beating close to hers and the wet cheek pressed on her shoulder.
“I wonder what she knows of him?” was her swift thought. “Perhaps it is better this way.”
Selina sobbed40 like a child—in a helpless and stricken fashion, clinging tightly the while to Miss Chressham, desperately41 revolving42 some means of comfort and help.
But Miss Boyle was the first to speak.
“I want you to see him”—she steadied herself with an effort. “Will you?”
Susannah was silent. Miss Boyle withdrew from her embrace and mastered struggling sobs43.
“I want you,” she said humbly44, pleading with wet eyes, “to show him—that,” she pointed to the paper by the neglected tea-table, “before he sees it for himself, and to ask him—for—” She hesitated.
“For your sake,” finished Miss Chressham, looking away. “Well?”
“To—to ignore it—to suppress it if he can; but to ignore it. Tell him that I am going away—if I can; but that I confide in him to make nothing of it. Oh, you know what to say!” She paused, then gathered strength again. “Will you do this, dear?”
“Yes,” said Miss Chressham quietly. “I will send to him at once.”
“Thank you,” whispered Selina; her blurred45 eyes shone with gratitude46. “You understand what I mean?”
“Yes, I understand.” Susannah smiled sadly. “I am afraid it is rather a woman’s way, dear, but I can conceive of no other course to take.”
Miss Boyle fumbled47 among her voluminous skirts for her reticule, and pulled it open.
“He has only sent me three letters,” she said breathlessly, “and you shall see them.”
Susannah turned swiftly.
“What do you make me? Indeed, I will not look at them—and you have no right to show them.”
Miss Boyle sat silent.
“I will do what I can,” continued Susannah, “but I cannot answer for Rose, save that he must perceive for himself how any action of his would make the matter worse.”
“Has he not possibly some influence with the gentleman who conducts the paper?” asked Selina.
“Ah, my dear, that was tried before in the Cathcart case, and was found useless! So there be but the thinnest veil over the names these papers may publish what they please.”
Miss Boyle rose and wiped her eyes.
“I am ashamed to disturb you with my troubles,” she murmured; “but the mere48 speaking of them has been a comfort.”
“Do not thank me yet,” said Susannah with a quick flush, “for though all I have and am is at your service, I am very helpless.”
“But I have the greatest trust in you and him, and—and I must go before the candles come in.” She caught Susannah by the shoulders and kissed her impulsively49. “Oh, I shall cry again if I stay. I am a weak fool,” she said in a breaking voice, “but—ah, well, good-bye!”
“Good-bye, dear,” answered Miss Chressham. “I shall hope to send to you in the morning.”
Miss Boyle caught up the blue parasol.
“I do not know what I am asking of you,” she said in an agitated tone, “but I trust you, and if by any means you can persuade him——”
“What of Sir Francis?” asked Susannah suddenly.
“I think he is not likely to see the paper,” replied Miss Boyle. She picked up the copy of the Gazette and thrust it into her bag. “Farewell again, and thank you—oh, thank you, Susannah!” They kissed again in the dusk that each was secretly so grateful for.
“Is your carriage below, dear?”
“It is waiting. Do not come down.”
They parted; the door closed on the slight beauty of Selina Boyle, and Susannah crossed at once to the fireplace and pulled the bell-rope. Then she sank into a chair and pushed the fair locks back from her brow, and stared desperately into the twilight50. She felt her cheeks becoming pale and her blood turning cold. A bitter exclamation51 left her lips, she beat her foot in anger at her own weakness, and when the servant entered rose and turned her back to the room.
One by one the delicate candle flames sprang from the taper52 and a soft light illumined the pale rich chamber53.
“A letter, madam,” said the servant.
“For me?”
“No; for Captain Lyndwood, madam.”
Miss Chressham gave a careless glance at the letter he placed on the mantelshelf.
“In half an hour I shall have a message to be taken to Lyndwood House.”
“Yes, madam.”
She was alone again, with the curtains shutting out the blue summer evening. She bit her lip and clenched54 her hands in her effort at control, then pulled open a drawer in the buhl cabinet and commenced to write to the Earl.
But words that would be sufficiently strong yet sufficiently cautious, phrases that should command yet appear careless were not easy to find, nor did her agitation55 allow her to search for the niceties of composition.
She flung down the pen and rose. As she paced distractedly across the room her eye was caught by the letter on the marble mantelshelf. It was in the Countess Lavinia’s hand. Susannah stood still a second, then returned to the desk and sat down heavily.
The moment after, Marius entered. He noticed the untouched tea-table and his cousin’s face as she turned to look at him.
“Is there anything the matter?” he asked, pausing inside the door.
“No,” said Susannah, “no. There is a letter for you—from Lady Lyndwood.” She marked the treacherous56 blood fly to his face and saw him turn from her gaze. “What does the Countess write to you about?” she asked.
Marius picked up the letter.
“How can I know,” he answered, “before I have opened it?” His dark eyes challenged hers with a look at once defiant57 and pleading; the even pallor of her face did not change, nor did she lower her glance as he tore open the envelope. “A ticket for Grafton’s mask tomorrow,” he said, throwing it on a chair; the letter enclosing it he thrust back into the envelope carelessly.
“There was no need to obtain that from her,” answered Susannah wearily and coldly.
“I shall not go,” said Marius; “unless I might escort you there.”
She faintly smiled.
“Did my lady send two tickets? No, I do not wish to go, Marius.”
“Why will you not?” he demanded. “My lady will be going—and Rose, I doubt not.”
“Indeed, I do not care for it.”
“Ye take pleasure in evading58 my company and in refusing my requests!” said Marius fiercely, and, picking up the Countess’s ticket and the Countess’s letter, he left the room with an angry step.
Susannah Chressham remained in a reflective attitude. She was not thinking of Marius—indeed, she had hardly noticed the manner of his departure.
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1
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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6
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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8
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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9
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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agitate
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| vi.(for,against)煽动，鼓动；vt.搅动 | |
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16
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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19
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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20
blanched
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| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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entreatingly
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| 哀求地，乞求地 | |
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entreat
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| v.恳求，恳请 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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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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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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40
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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41
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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42
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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43
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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44
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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45
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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47
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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48
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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50
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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51
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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52
taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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53
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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54
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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56
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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57
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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58
evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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