She, sitting up, and gathering5 her mantle6 together over her low blue dress with a mechanical gesture, was the first to speak.
“I regret I could not find Selina again,” she said. “I was sorry to leave without speaking to her—” She broke off; Marius was not in her confidence, nor indeed much in her thoughts, and she paused, wondering what she should reveal and what keep back.
He half startled and half relieved her by his abrupt7 answer.
“It was concerning that paragraph in the Gazette you wished to see Rose, was it not?”
“How did you imagine it?” she queried8 faintly.
“The Countess informed me.”
This remark brought Miss Chressham to glance at him closely and to notice that he was flushed and frowning, obviously ill at ease and striving for control.
“The Countess informed you!” she echoed.
He beat his foot impatiently on the floor of the coach.
“She had seen it, of course. She concluded you would wish to prevent a meeting between Rose and Sir Francis.” He checked himself, then added in a lower tone, “She has no doubt it is true.”
Miss Chressham coloured in sheer anger.
“She dared to put it so to you!” The sad grey eyes darkened with wrathful scorn. “Did she wish to enlist9 you as her champion?”
“Is it surprising that she was angry?” he answered defiantly10. “If it be true——”
“It is true and she knows it,” broke in Miss Chressham. “She hath good cause to know it. Selina wrote to my lord, and she—this woman—stole her letter and composed, from that and what she further knew or imagined, this paragraph in the Gazette.”
“The Countess!” cried Marius. “The Countess—that paragraph! Susannah, I do not believe it!”
Miss Chressham answered with weary passion.
“Believe it or no, it is true, true—and it was an action of a meanness, a vulgarity——”
“I do not credit it,” he interrupted vehemently11. “After what she said to me.”
Susannah gave him a swift look.
“She had no right to speak to you.”
The dusky blood flooded his agitated13, handsome face.
“Hath she no wrongs?” he asked desperately14. “How have we behaved to her, any of us? And it has always been her money. Rose and Miss Boyle are in the wrong.”
“I was well advised in not making you my confidant sooner, if this is how you take it,” cried Miss Chressham angrily. “Oh, you understand none of it, none; but at least be silent, do not defend the Countess Lavinia to me.”
“How you hate her,” he answered, in a breathless way.
Susannah’s fair white hand made a gesture as if she put aside the semblance15 of something hideous16.
“I do not care to talk of her. This is the first time that my speech has meddled17 in my lord’s affairs”—she drew herself together, as if her mental effort braced18 her body; “but it becomes no less than my duty now, Marius, to bid you take care.”
Marius leant forward and caught hold of the red silk window blind.
“Of what?” he asked hoarsely19.
His obvious unease and agitation20 did not reassure21 Susannah.
“Of the Countess Lavinia,” she answered. “Do you think Rose will endure it? Whatever he is, he is not that manner of man.” Her voice held an odd note of pride.
Marius moistened his lips.
“Has he said anything?”
“To me, this evening, he warned me. I think you had better leave for Paris.”
“Because of the Countess Lavinia?” Marius spoke22 unsteadily.
Something in his troubled, distracted bearing touched her; a kinder look came into her passionate eyes.
“Oh, Marius, there was the old wretched mistake; Rose must remember it. You wooed her first, after all; well, when he sees you together—you must respect his pride.”
Marius drew back against the leather cushions and unaccountably laughed.
“The Countess Lavinia,” he said wildly, “I loathe23 her.”
He clenched24 his hand and brought it down with vehement12 force on the seat beside him.
“Then you will go away?” Susannah spoke softly.
“No, I cannot do that.” The lace and diamonds at his throat heaved with his unequal breathing, and his lips quivered.
“The Countess means to do us all a mischief,” said Susannah, faint and shuddering25 with the effort of putting these things into words. “Cannot you see it, Marius, that she will find in this fashion her amusement and her revenge? Are you going to lend yourself to it? Go away.”
He looked up with brilliant eyes.
“I shall stay,” he answered passionately27; “but not because of the Countess.”
“Ah, you think yourself very strong and courageous,” returned Miss Chressham wearily, “but she is, in her way, a clever woman.”
“Do not talk of her,” cried Marius roughly.
Susannah made no reply.
A little longer and the coach jolted28 to a standstill.
Miss Chressham sprang up with a nervous little exclamation29; the heavy door was opened on to the dark silent street and the summer fragrance30, that clung even about the Haymarket with a sweet suggestion of things stirring, growing, breathing, animals, flowers and men, beneath the rising moon.
They went into the house; the coach swung off up the street and the delicate stillness fell again.
Marius slowly closed the door, replaced the key in his pocket and flung off his domino. The wide hall was lit by one lamp that cast a pale glow and heavy shadows. Miss Chressham stood still a moment, gazing before her in an absorbed fashion.
“Can I speak to you a while?” asked Marius on a rebellious31 breath.
She forced herself to listen, to comprehend.
“Of course,” she thrust aside her thoughts. “It must be still early—maybe my lady is up. Let us go into the withdrawing-room.”
They discovered that it was not yet midnight, but the Countess Agatha was in bed, and Susannah’s woman in charge. Miss Chressham ordered candles beyond the few left burning, and wine and cakes.
“I tasted nothing at the mask,” she said, smiling to cover her distraction32, “and I vow33 I am quite hungry.”
Marius, struggling with some deep and tumultuous feeling, heeded34 nothing, but paced to and fro the gay and beautiful chamber35 until the servant had left them.
The window stood open on the mute city and winking36 stars, a beau-pot of white roses on the work-table gave forth37 a lingering and exquisite38 perfume; Miss Chressham, near as pale as they, and drooping39, as if with fatigue40, had seated herself on a low brocade settee; her rich and glittering hair rolled in full curls over her dark domino, rounded throat and turquoise41 gown; beside her lay her mask and her fan.
“What did you wish to say, Marius?” she asked.
He poured her out a glass of the delicate white wine; she thanked him with a smile and drank it. There was still that absent look in her deep eyes that showed her thoughts were not at all absorbed with Marius; but he did not notice it, being too completely engrossed42 in his own passions.
“You think that I have behaved unworthily,” he said, moving towards the window.
Susannah roused herself with a half sigh; it was like Marius to take everything heavily. She looked at him kindly43; he leant against the window frame and gazed out at the night; a persistent44 breeze ruffled45 the pomaded curls on his forehead and the lace at his throat.
“I had no right to speak to you, of anything,” she answered. “Only Rose mentioned it and I ventured. Marius, the Countess is not to be trusted.”
He answered in a muffled46 voice.
“Do you think Rose has been impeccable?”
Had he had her in view he could not have failed to mark the swift expression of anguish47 that passed over her face; but her settee had its back to the window, and though he had turned his head towards the room he could see only her bent48 neck and shining curls.
“My lord made this mad marriage for your sake,” she said. “At the time you did not consider it strange or ignoble49 that he, as everyone, should marry money; ’twas only on discovering who the lady was——”
Marius interrupted.
“Then I cared for her no more, that was dead on the instant;” he spoke vehemently, “From then onwards the whole thing was ugly, sordid50. I think we behaved all of us in a miserable51 fashion, I, and she and Rose.”
“What other than you did could you have done?” she asked, faintly surprised that he should refer to this with so much passion.
But Marius continued unheeding.
“We turned on her that night—well, we have been living on her money ever since, Rose is again on the verge52 of ruin, and what has her life been? He has behaved to her as to his servant.”
Susannah straightened herself.
“I fear I can look at none of it from the Countess’s point of view.”
“She is indifferent to me,” he struck in quickly. “But I have her on my conscience.”
He moved forward suddenly and stood behind the settee.
“She was so different once—what have we made of her? I have no right to scorn her as I did, and now it seems that she appeals to me. Susannah, tell me what I ought to do.”
Miss Chressham was startled by the tense note in his voice; she glanced up at him over her shoulder.
“Oh, Marius! why do you come to me?” she murmured weakly.
He leant his arms on the top of her seat and rested his head in his right hand; his frowning eyes gazed before him, and he spoke in a voice that she hardly knew for his.
“I want to be better than any of it, I should like to live differently from Rose—from any of them.” As he jerked out the words the colour rose and receded53 in his earnest young face. “I started wrong, I never really cared for her, but I did not know. And then there was always the money. I thought I should never need for that; but things have changed so, in this last year. I—I want to get out of it, I want you to help me.”
He came to an end, very pale, and Susannah sat silent. She felt with a sense of shock that he was making an effort to reveal his very soul to her; she saw his emotion, and wondered dimly that it did not touch her. She was angry with herself that her only desire was to silence him, to escape from the effort of striving to understand him; she was very tired, and her inner thoughts were far from Marius.
“When I was abroad,” he continued, “I—I used to think of it and could find no way; but I must escape it. I—do you believe in Heaven and Hell, Susannah?”
“’Tis what we are taught,” she answered; “what makes you speak in this fashion, Marius?”
His breath came passionately, he did not look at her.
“Ah, I want to do something worth while; I do not want to be damned through ignoble foolish vices54. You know, you remember, in the ballads55 we used to read—” He broke off, then added huskily, “Do you not understand, Susannah?”
She was frightened.
“Oh, not to-night! do not speak of this to-night,” she cried. “I am very weary.”
“I must speak when I can. I am appealing to you, do not you see? You are the only person I would say this to. I speak very awkwardly. I am not worth——”
“Oh, Marius!” again weakly she tried to stop him.
His speech became almost incoherent; she caught only the burden of it, “Do you not understand?”
“Some day, if I tried with this before me, I might be in an honourable56 position; you cared a little to write to me, did you not? It might be all honest and worth while, and splendid, Susannah.”
She rose, shuddering.
“I fear you have mistaken me, Marius. I—I can be no help to you.”
He gripped the top of the settee.
“Do you mean that?” he leant towards her. “I speak like a fool, I know; but I am trying to tell you.”
“Marius!” she entreated57, overwhelmed, surprised, in no way moved with anything save pity. “Please do not say anything more now.”
Again came his desperate passionate question. “Do you not understand me? I want you—some day when I am not penniless—to be my wife.”
Susannah made an effort over herself; her own emotions were in no way touched, but she was desperately sorry and a great deal startled; always she had considered him as very young.
“I have never thought of this, Marius,” she said simply, pale as was he, but composed. “And I am honoured that you should care; but ah! my dear, you do not quite mean what you say.”
He coloured furiously.
“By Heaven, I love you.”
She looked away.
“I hope you do not mean that,” she answered, “because——”
He half laughed.
“Because you do not care for me?”
“Not in that way, Marius,” she said gently.
He put his hand to his brow in a dazed way.
“Then it is over, impossible?”
“Yes.” Miss Chressham was still not looking at him. “And I am sorry, oh, very sorry!”
“Is there not a chance, some day?” His tone was piteously incredulous.
But Susannah, strengthened by an intense and hidden feeling, answered with a finality calm to cruelty.
“No, I could never, Marius; I beg of you not to speak of this again. If I have hurt you I am grieved; but it is impossible.”
Silence followed, and now she ventured to look at him; he stood quite still, frowning, with downcast eyes; the fire and flash had died from his demeanour, which was that of a man utterly58 humiliated59. Susannah sickened at herself for having had to repulse60 him, what he had offered was something she might have been proud to accept, and a sense of guilt61 stole into her heart.
Marius was speaking, quietly.
“Forgive me, it was all my fault, I had no right to presume.”
Remorse62 flushed her face, since he was taking it so well.
“I would give anything it had not happened,” she murmured.
“It shall not recur;” he straightened himself and moved from the settee. “I was a fool—when does a man meet such fortune as I hoped for? Forget it, and good-night.”
He smiled, giving her the sudden impression of someone older, and weightier, and turned towards the door.
Impulsively63 she held out her hand, then, seeing his instant flush, withdrew it.
“Good-night,” she murmured.
“Good-night, Susannah.”
He was gone, and she gave a great sigh of exhaustion64 and relief; she had not thought of this from him, and he was in earnest too; well, it eased her mind with regard to the Countess. He had appealed to her, she could have done anything with him had she responded—now. Why could she not have cared for him, he was a finer man than—ah, for whose sake was she refusing him?
She sank across the settee and hid her face in her hands.
The feeling that had been the background of her life ever since she could remember, strong, intense, always, but always under control and hidden, broke all restraint and shook her from head to foot; she clasped her moist hands tightly and pressed them against her brow with a shiver. She asked herself what would become of Marius, and answered herself—nothing.
He was drifting, like my lord, and she could put out no hand to save either, or did not. It seemed that no action was to redeem65 these last annals of their house. Marius would do nothing. Rose would do nothing, she would do nothing; the Countess wasted her malice66, there was no fire to be struck out of the Lyndwoods.
Miss Chressham had seen the Earl with Miss Trefusis on his arm. Sir Francis was appeased67. Selina, most fortunate of all of them, could wrap her heart in dreams and go about smiling; she did not know him, at least not as his cousin did.
There was Marius—poor Marius; his longings68, his half-stifled aspirations69 had passed by her like the breeze that blew in from the dark town, but she knew that they had been real; even while she could not rouse herself to understand his mood she had hated herself that she must send him away bitter, unsatisfied.
She rose and put out the candles. The two churches, St. Martin’s-inthe-Fields and St. James’s, struck the chiming quarters, and then the hour—one.
Susannah, protected by the dark, made an uncontrollable movement of her locked hands to her bosom70.
“Oh Rose, Rose!” she murmured; then, with a shudder26 crushed the name back into her heart, and went softly through the silent beautiful house to her chamber.
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收听单词发音
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1
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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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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seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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enlist
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| vt.谋取(支持等)，赢得；征募；vi.入伍 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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meddled
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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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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loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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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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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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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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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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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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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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45
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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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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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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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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49
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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50
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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51
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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52
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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53
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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54
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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55
ballads
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| 民歌，民谣，特别指叙述故事的歌( ballad的名词复数 )； 讴 | |
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56
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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57
entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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repulse
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| n.击退，拒绝；vt.逐退，击退，拒绝 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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62
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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63
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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64
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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65
redeem
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| v.买回，赎回，挽回，恢复，履行（诺言等） | |
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66
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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67
appeased
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的过去式和过去分词 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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68
longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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69
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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70
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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