She leant back in the heavily brocaded chair, her small hands resting on the arms, her head turned towards the open long windows where the dark silk curtains slightly stirred in the night breeze. On the gilt4 table beside her rested an open letter.
It was perfectly5 still in the high shadowed room; the sense of night, mystery, and loneliness was complete; the small heart-shaped flame of the candle revealed dimly the face and figure of my lady, the table, and the letter; for the rest shadows and fluttering glooms obscured the handsome furniture, the massive ceiling, the carved walls.
Suddenly the Countess moved her head and looked towards the door. A light footstep sounded without; she moistened her lips and her hands tightened6 on the chair, then, as my lord softly entered, she turned her face away again.
“I was waiting for you,” she said, as he closed the door. “I could stay no longer at the masquerade. I found this letter when I reached home, and I thought I would wait up and speak to you.”
The Earl wore his domino and carried his mask.
“I saw a light in here,” he answered. “Why must you speak to me to-night? It is late.”
There was no expression on her painted face.
“We do not see each other often, do we, my lord? And to-night I am in the mood——”
He flung cloak and vizard on to a chair.
“For what?” he asked.
She looked at him for the first time, and sat up, shrugging her shoulders.
“For anything,” she said. She pulled her handkerchief out and pressed it to her brilliant lips; the roses, ribbons, and pearls in her high-piled grey curls shone in the flickering7 flame.
My lord drew off his gloves.
“What is the letter, madam?” He gave her a sideways look out of weary, reckless eyes.
“From my father.” She took the handkerchief from her mouth and there was a stain of carmine8 on it. “He is just back from Holland, where he hath been to take up some monies due to him.”
“I know,” said the Earl. “I think this news can wait.”
“It is no news, my lord; you are aware that my father’s fortunes——”
“Will not bear the strain of my extravagance?” He placed his tasselled gauntlets down beside the silver candle-stick and the letter. “Well, he has said so.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You are very cool; what do you propose to do?”
The Earl gave her a slow smile.
“How often people ask that,” he remarked. “I propose, madam, nothing.”
“I suppose you have said that before,” answered the Countess, “but you have saved yourself nevertheless; that way is closed now, however, you cannot marry an heiress again.”
He crossed to the mantelshelf and rested his elbow there, taking his cheek in his hand; the little pale light was yet enough to disclose the languid reckless beauty of his face.
“Why waste your bitterness on these obvious comments, madam?” he asked. “Whatever my affairs may be, you and I cannot better them by discussion.”
“Your affairs!” she echoed. “Do they not also concern me? My father crippled himself to pay your debts a year ago, and hath spent a swinging fortune since.”
“Doth he think me too dear?” smiled the Earl. “Well, it was his bargain.”
“I am not talking of him, but of myself.”
Her husband fixed10 his scornful grey eyes on the contained malice11 of her delicate face.
“You knew you were not marrying a prudent12 man, madam, my reputation was easy to come at; if we made a mistake it was an irrevocable one. Till now we have at least avoided the folly13 of telling each other so.”
She returned his glance, straightly and keenly; her fine nostrils14 were distended15, and against the pallor of her hollow cheeks the patches of rouge16 looked vivid and unnatural17.
“It has been very easy for you,” she said. “I have not touched your life at all, I merely stand for that vulgarity—money; but money is something that cannot always be ignored, and you must face it now, it and me, my lord.”
The Earl spoke18 in a low voice.
“What does your father say?”
“He writes like a man possessed”—her slight hand touched the open letter. “The Dutch bank has failed, the East Indian ships are lost, he thinks his liabilities will be more than he can meet, unless he can negotiate some loan; but,” she lifted her thin shoulders out of the glittering gown, “I have no doubt we are ruined. He curses me,” she added, “and talks of Bedlam19; he hath always dwelt on that matter of madness in our family.”
Her brilliant wrathful eyes turned to the Earl’s colourless face.
“What are our assets?” she asked. “Your post in the Ministry21 and Pelham on the verge22 of impeachment23! Your impoverished24 estates, half entailed25, the furniture, jewels, horses—worth a few thousands—not enough to satisfy a quarter of the creditors26; what is before us?”
“You know as well as I,” he answered. “And do not blame me wholly, madam; you have not lived like an anchorite.”
“What you have lost on one night would furnish my needs for months; and there is your mother, your cousin.”
A swift colour flew into my lord’s face.
“Miss Chressham is in an independent position, madam.”
“Is your brother, Captain Lyndwood?”
She tossed the name at him with an indescribable air of insolence27 and insult; he drew a deep breath.
“I think we will not speak of him.”
“Why not? He has cost you somewhat, your marriage did him good service.”
“The best service I ever rendered Marius,” interrupted my lord, “was when I prevented him from making you his wife, madam.”
The Countess quivered.
“That was an unconscious favour,” she cried. “You married me for my money, for nothing else.”
“For nothing else,” he repeated, his attitude unchanged, his voice unaltered. “What other reason, madam, should I have had?”
She pressed her hands to her tight bodice.
“You glossed28 it with self-sacrifice, it was to save your brother, your mother, the estates—anything but for yourself, because you could not face life without money.”
Again the uncontrollable colour betrayed my lord, suffusing29 his face painfully.
“Why are you saying this?”
“Oh, I have been longing30 to say it ever since we were married; I think I have my chance now”—her voice trembled with passion—“ever since you ordered me from the room. Do you remember—that night you brought me home, and your brother turned his back on me?”
“By God,” cried the Earl, “this is intolerable; are we to exchange recriminations?” He moved towards her. “I have that on my mind makes you and your father and his damned money of no moment to me.”
The Countess rose, sweeping31 the flame-coloured domino to the floor.
“Ah, Miss Boyle!” she said through her teeth. “She was at the ball to-night.”
“I will not endure this from you, madam.”
“That is monstrous32 amusing,” cried the Countess, and her eyes flew wide. “Do you imagine that I do not know——”
“And I also—I know, who wrote the paragraph in the Gazette.”
She was obviously startled, taken with a quick utter surprise; she stared at him as if she hoped to read some explanation of his words in his pale face.
“Did you imagine,” continued my lord, “that I could live a year in the same house with you and not be aware that you read my letters and set your servant to spy on me?” He smiled in a fashion that made her colour with fury. “What other was there with both the knowledge and the vulgarity to send what you sent to the paper? You deceive yourself, madam, if you think I do not know you.”
The Countess Lavinia stood silent; she had no words to meet the occasion. Only once before had she spoken directly with her husband, when he had brought her home to Lyndwood Holt, and then, as now, he had silenced her. Her dumb hatred33 of him rose and swelled34 in her heart to agony; she made a motion of her hand to her throat and then clutched at the pearls on her tight bodice.
The Earl glanced away from her as if he found her not worth his attention.
“It hath been too mean a thing to mention,” he said; “but it was patent to me from the moment Sir Francis showed me the Gazette. It hath not done much mischief35, madam, or caused any trouble I cannot right; Miss Boyle stands too high for malice to touch. Well, there is no more to say.”
She found voice enough to ask harshly:
“Is this how you take it?”
Of all things she had never expected this. The contemplation of his certain fury had made a point to her days; again and again she had said to herself, “I shall have stung him beyond bearing at last,” and she had nerved herself to bear the outburst of his rage for the pleasure of seeing him brought by her means to bitter wrath20; she had not supposed that he would discover of himself that she was the author of the paragraph, but she had intended at the climax36, when he was on the eve of a duel37 with Sir Francis and Miss Boyle had fled from London, to say to him, “I did this—I!”
The Earl moved again to the mantelshelf.
“How did you imagine I would take it?” he asked quietly. “I reap what I sowed when I married Mr. Hilton’s daughter.”
She gave a little gasp38, and the string of pearls broke and came away in her hot hand.
“A noble way you vindicate39 your gentle blood, my lord,” she said in a voice faltering40 with passion. “I have been your convenience and your scorn.”
“And my wife,” he interrupted, “before the world, my wife; which is what you, I think, desired, madam.”
“Your wife!” she echoed wildly.
He answered her coldly.
“Your life has been as you have made it.”
“My life hath been Hell,” answered the Countess vehemently41; she cast the pearls down on the table beside the flaring42 unsnuffed candle. “Ever since I met you I have lived in bitter unhappiness.” She looked at the Earl with dangerous eyes. “Had I married your brother I might have been a contented43 woman, he is an honourable44 man.”
Rose Lyndwood laughed.
“Cannot that rouse you!” she cried. “What are you become, my lord?”
“The utter folly of our discussing these matters!” he answered, smiling. “We waste our breath, madam, and I, for one, am weary of it.”
The Countess caught up her father’s letter.
“What have you to say to this?” she demanded.
“Nothing.” He looked at his reflection in the mirror above the mantelshelf and yawned.
“What will you do to avert45 this ruin?” she asked, trembling.
“Still nothing.” He looked at her now, over his shoulder, and the extreme handsomeness of his face was impressed on her suddenly, like an added insult.
“And about Selina Boyle, poor shadow of sentiment, you will do nothing?” she sneered46. “And you will face the laughter, the comment, and still do nothing. Ah! you have no fire nor life left in you, Lord Lyndwood, you are become a worthless rake indeed.”
Still she could not move him; he yawned again and thrust his hands into the embroidered47 pockets of his white velvet48 waistcoat.
“Do you think you care for her?” cried the Countess, furious. “It is a paltry49 pretence50; if I died tomorrow you would marry another woman with money and whistle Selina Boyle down the wind.”
“The candle requires snuffing,” said Rose Lyndwood; “but I do not wish to burn my fingers nor can I see the snuffers.” He smiled with his pale lips and his fickle51 grey eyes. “Good-night, madam.”
The Countess took a step forward as he moved towards the door; it seemed she would have struck him, but he made a motion with his hand as if he brushed her aside, laughed in her face and left the room.
He did not close the door. The Countess, looking after him, saw in the dimly lit hall the figure of Honoria Pryse in a dark wrapper, moving back secretively as she was surprised by my lord’s sudden appearance.
“I was coming for her ladyship,” she said in a tone of covert52 defiance53.
Rose Lyndwood glanced from maid to mistress, and both winced54; then he passed slowly up the dark stairs.
Honoria Pryse came into the drawing-room and closed the door; her first action was to snuff the candle and set it further on the table.
The Countess sank down upon the sofa, and with a groan55 hid her face in the bend of her arm.
“He knows,” said the maid, thrusting the loose gold hair back under her mob.
“He has always known,” the Countess raised her face, “and it doth not touch him; he brushes it from him as a fly off his sleeve. I told him of my father’s letter; what did he care?” She clenched56 her fragile hands in the dove-coloured cushions. “My God, I am sick with hate, or love.”
Honoria Pryse observed her curiously57. Lady Lyndwood’s passionate58 loathing59 of her lord had always been beyond her understanding; to her own nature strong feeling was impossible.
“Did you see Captain Lyndwood to-night?” she asked.
“Yes, he is a fool and a virtuous60 fool, but I swear I think I love him. Oh, Honoria!” her eyes gleamed with an expression akin9 to insanity61. “Do you not think I love him?”
“No,” answered the maid, “not yet at least, but I think you hate my lord, and I wonder why; if ye had not felt this frenzy62 against him ye had been able to better hold your own.”
The Countess did not seem to hear.
“How may one touch a man like that—hath he no soul beyond his easy pleasures?” she cried vehemently. “He will not cross swords for Selina Boyle, and he thinks he loves her. I cannot move him to any fury by talk of ruin, always his face hath one expression for me, and no way can I alter it; is there nothing in the world he cares for?”
Honoria shrugged63 her shoulders.
“His name, his dignity, I suppose; we have never affected64 that. You have been very discreet65, my lady, and he knows you cannot be otherwise and keep the position you paid so highly for.”
A curious look passed over the Countess’s face.
“His name!” she repeated; then she laughed stupidly and shivered. “Well, we are ruined; what is before me?”
“You are far enough from ruin,” answered the maid calmly. “Mr. Hilton stands firm enough, and my lord’s position is not so easily overturned.”
The Countess rose with sudden energy.
“Get to bed, Honoria, I am tired to-night, and meant not what I said,” but her passionate face and heated eyes belied66 her words.
“Will you not come also, my lady?”
“In a while, yes.”
The maid had the policy sometimes to submit to the mistress she ruled; with the faintest of sneering67 smiles she left the room.
With quick steps the Countess hurried across the floor, picked up her father’s letter and dashed out the candle.
Through the heavy curtains fell the first glimmer3 of the London dawn, but where my lady stood all was dark; she tore the letter to shreds68, breathing heavily.
“His name,” she muttered to herself; “my name also. An insignificant69 thing like me, my lord, might make you the laughing stock of the town.”
She paused and peered round the dark mistrustfully. She moved unerringly to where the Earl had left his domino, found it, flung it on the ground and set her high-heeled shoe on it; then laughing and crying together hurried from the room.
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1
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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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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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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carmine
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| n.深红色，洋红色 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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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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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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distended
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| v.（使）膨胀，肿胀( distend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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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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bedlam
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| n.混乱，骚乱；疯人院 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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impeachment
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| n.弹劾；控告；怀疑 | |
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impoverished
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| adj.穷困的，无力的，用尽了的v.使（某人）贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某物）贫瘠或恶化 | |
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25
entailed
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| 使…成为必要( entail的过去式和过去分词 )； 需要； 限定继承； 使必需 | |
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creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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27
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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glossed
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| v.注解( gloss的过去式和过去分词 )；掩饰（错误）；粉饰；把…搪塞过去 | |
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29
suffusing
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的现在分词 ) | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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vindicate
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| v.为…辩护或辩解，辩明；证明…正确 | |
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faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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43
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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45
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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46
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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48
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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49
paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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50
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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51
fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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52
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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53
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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54
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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55
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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56
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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57
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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58
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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59
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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60
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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61
insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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62
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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63
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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64
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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65
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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66
belied
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| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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67
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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68
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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69
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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