She paused and looked blankly in at a shop window; as she did so she felt herself touched lightly and timidly on the arm; and on looking down she found that she had been accosted4 by a flower girl; a pale, little creature, clad in miserable5 rags, with a face pinched and pallid6 from starvation, who timidly held forth7 a bunch of half-withered violets. Madeline looked down, and her eyes filled with tears; not with sorrow for the child—they were tears of self-pity—for as she pressed some silver into the child’s hand, she thought, ‘What would I give to change places with you to-day?’
Thus recalled to herself, she looked at her watch. It was one o’clock; at two she knew that Miss Forster would expect her to preside at the luncheon8 table. She determined9 to hurry home, in order to have a few minutes to compose herself before she was compelled to meet her sister-in-law. She called a hansom, and ordered the man to drive to her house. She stopped him at the street corner, however, and finished her journey on foot.
To her intense relief she was able to gain her room without encountering the lady whose presence seemed to inspire her with so much dread10. Having reached the room she shut herself in, sank down on an ottoman, and stared despairingly before her.
‘His wife!’ Could it be that he had spoken truly, that she was really bound by the sacred tie to the man who had done his best to ruin her? Could it be that she had brought shame and disgrace on the man who had been noble enough to shut out the past and to cleanse12 and purify her with his unstained name? ‘My God,’ she murmured, I think I am accursed. I am like a leper—a vile13, unclean thing which contaminates all it touches. I did sin, in a wild, impulsive14, girlish way, but why should that sin for ever drag me down? I have repented—I have tried to atone—but for me there seems no mercy.’ Then came the question, What must she do? Return to Monsieur Belleisle, whom the world would doubtless call her lawful15 husband? Live with him in degradation16 as great as any she had yet been made to bear?
‘No!’ she cried. ‘I would sooner, as I said to him, destroy my miserable life!’
A gentle tap at the door aroused her. She opened it and admitted her little step-son. It was a custom of the child to call at Madeline’s room, and if he found her go down with her to lunch. He bounded in in his usual light-hearted way, but on seeing her face his hilarity17 received a check. He took her hand and kissed it, he looked up wistfully into her eyes—
‘Mamma’s headache is no better,’ he said quietly, ‘Why do you think that, darling?’
‘Why?—because you are so white—and because your eyes are all wet. Why have you been crying, mamma; what is there to make you cry?’
‘Ah, what indeed?’ echoed Madeline, seizing up the child and clasping him passionately18 in her arms. ‘But, remember, my pet, I spoke11 roughly to you this morning—I have been away from you for hours; perhaps I thought you would not be glad to see me back again.’
‘Ah, no! you would not think that,’ he said, pressing his rosy19 cheek against her cold, pale face. ‘What would papa do? What should we all do if mamma went away?’
She shuddered20, but held the child closely to her as she descended21 to the dining-room.
The meal was got through in oppressive silence. To be sure, the presence of the servants acted as a barrier to anything like conversation; but every one felt on this occasion that there was something more. Even the child and the very servants seemed oppressed by that indescribable gloom which all felt but none could understand. The luncheon over, Madeline rose with a sigh of infinite relief, and ordered the carriage.
The rain had ceased to fall, but the sky still looked threatening, and the drive did not prove to be a pleasant one. Still it seemed to Madeline that anything would be better than sitting in the house all the afternoon tormented22 by her own wretched thoughts. Presently, however, as she was putting on her hat, the thought occurred to her that it might be well for her to seek another interview with Belleisle. When, therefore, she descended the stairs she merely kissed the child, who was standing23 half expecting to be invited to go, and entered the carriage alone.
She drove straight to Regent Street, made one or two trifling24 purchases, then she ordered her coachman to take a few turns round the park.
The season was rapidly drawing to a close; many families had already betaken themselves to the country, and most of those who lingered were busily preparing to go. Still, in spite of this, there were still enough people left to make a tolerable show in the Row, and Madeline had not been ten minutes in the drive before she was greeted with many gracious smiles and bows.
Suddenly, however, her heart gave a great throb25, then seemed to stand still, for her eyes rested upon the very form she sought. Could it be possible? Yes, there he was on horseback, on a sorry hack26 sicklied o’er with the shade of the livery stable, and accompanied by two young ladies in green riding-habits and hats composed of peacocks’ feathers. The three horses were walking, and the three riders seemed heedless of everything but each other.
The great and cosmic creature was holding forth, while the two girls were gazing upon him in rapt devotion.
Madeline felt her cheek grow crimson27, for it seemed to her as if every soul about her suddenly read her secret.
She bent28 forward to speak to her coachman, and met the Frenchman’s eye; his face became suddenly irradiated, he politely lifted his hat as the carriage passed him; but she felt herself utterly29 unable to make any sign in return.
That day had passed wearily enough to James Forster. From the moment he had entered the office he had been able to think of nothing but his wife; so great was his anxiety and his eagerness to see her that he left business two hours before his usual time, and hurried home. It was not fair to her, he thought, that he should spend so many hours of the day away from her side. He pictured her at home, sitting disconsolately30 beside his lonely hearth31. When he reached the house, however, he was disenchanted. He went up to the drawing-room and found his sister prim32 and neat as usual, working at some simple embroider33 work, and keeping an eye upon the child, who played at her feet. She looked surprised to see her brother at such an early hour.
‘Has anything happened, James?’ she said.
He laughed a little impatiently.
‘Why, Margaret, have I grown such a methodical old fellow that you must imagine something has happened merely because I come home a couple of hours before dinner time? No, nothing has happened. I hurried home because I wanted to have a talk with Madeline. Where is she?’
‘Madeline is out.’
‘Out?’
‘Yes, she has been out all day.’
‘Why, where has she gone to?’
‘Really, James, I am not Madeline’s keeper. Since she didn’t choose to tell me I thought it was not my duty to ask. I only know that she went out walking all the morning, and that immediately after lunch she went out driving. I have not seen her since.’
‘Why, I thought when she went out she generally took the boy?’
‘She has always taken him before, but she did not want him to-day. She said it was necessary for her to go alone.’
Miss Forster concluded with a significant ‘Hem!’ which spoke volumes. Forster made no reply; he turned away, went to his study, and sat there to await his wife’s return.
One hour, two hours passed. She did not come. The first dinner bell rang—he rose to go to his room, and as he was crossing the hall he heard his wife’s knock at the door.
‘So late!’ he murmured. ‘Where can she have been at this hour?’
Then he thought of his sister’s peculiar34 manner when she had spoken to him, and instead of waiting to see his wife come in he went straight up to his room.
When he went down to dinner he found Madeline already at the table. Her face was paler than it had been on the preceding night, and there was the same strange, wild light in her eyes. Was it his fancy again, or did she really shrink from him when he put his arms around her and kissed her cold cheek? Why did she flush and look uneasily about the room when he asked her innocently enough what interesting appointment she could possibly have to keep her out all day? There was certainly something the matter which he was faintly conscious of, but which he could not possibly understand.
The dinner over, Forster rose and asked his wife to go with him to his study. The request was a simple one, but Madeline started, her face grew paler than before, and a sickening sense of dread seized her heart. She filled a glass of water and drank off its contents; then with a courage born only of despair she went with him.
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1
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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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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11
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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cleanse
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| vt.使清洁，使纯洁，清洗 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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hilarity
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| n.欢乐；热闹 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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21
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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27
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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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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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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31
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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32
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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33
embroider
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| v.刺绣于(布)上；给…添枝加叶，润饰 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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