After a silence, so oppressive that Aspasia could have screamed, Lady Gerardine spoke4:
"Is it necessary to ask for my permission?" she said, without lifting her eyelids5. "I did not know that people were so particular nowadays." She paused. And then, with a perceptible effort: "Did you know Captain English?" she asked.
"Did I know him?" Raymond Bethune laughed out loud, unmirthfully. "You seem to have forgotten that he and I went through that siege together. I was with him from the day I first joined, practically till the hour of his death."
Rosamond Gerardine gave a faint gasp6, as if breath had suddenly failed her; then she looked up sharply and veiled her glance again.
"Ah," she said slowly. "Through the siege—till—I had not known. I beg your pardon."
Once more there was the heavy silence. With round eyes Baby stared: things were passing here to the meaning of which she had no clue, but she felt, as it were, the stress of a tragedy in the air.
Suddenly Lady Gerardine rose.
"I am glad to have met you," said she. He rose too, and she stretched out her hand to him. "Write his life," she went on. "I am sure no one could do it better."
As upon their first greeting, the man bowed ceremoniously, barely touching7 the fingers proffered9. She sighed, sank into her chair again, then turned and smiled determinedly11 upon her niece with the air of one dismissing the subject. Bethune felt well enough that he too was being dismissed; but he took a step forward and stood looking down upon her.
"I do not think you quite understand," he said. "I cannot do this work without your help, Lady Gerardine."
"My help!"
"I am exceedingly sorry to be so tiresome"—his manner betrayed a curious mixture of patience and irritation12—"but you see, that without the papers in your possession my task would be futile13. I could not possibly do the work justice."
"The papers in my possession!" She echoed the words as helplessly as before.
"The papers in your possession," he repeated. "His letters to you, the journal he wrote during the siege, his notes, his whole correspondence—I brought them all back and sent them to you myself—afterwards. And you, you did receive them? You were too ill to see me, I was told, but your friends undertook that you should have them."
She was gazing at him, now, with wide eyes growing darker and deeper every moment. The colour rushed up to her face, then faded away, leaving it paler even than before. Her stricken look made him feel like a brute14; yet the sheer perversity15 of her attitude exasperated16 him. At last:
"You want me to give you these papers?" she exclaimed, with a cry.
He sat down on the chair next her; and, like one endeavouring to make a fractious child hear reason, began to explain his meaning to her.
"I should not presume," he said, "to suggest that you should confide17 to me writings which can concern only yourself and him. He was a reserved man, and, though he was the best friend, the only friend I ever had, and I perhaps his closest, I should not dream of intruding18 upon his private life, now—now that he is dead. God forbid! But I want you to help, I want you to give me every necessary extract which concerns his soldier's life—that life which was such an example to all Englishmen—which I feel it should be given to England to know, as freely as it was laid down for her. Why, there is not even a cairn of stones to mark his grave! Mark his grave? Why, even that grave has been denied to us! But we can yet raise a monument to him that our country may know her dead."
His cold somewhat grating voice deepened into a note of such tenderness that Baby wondered in her childish mind. She did not know that a man could so love and mourn a friend. Lady Gerardine had leant back in her chair, her hands clasping the arms. Bethune saw her revolving19 the question in her mind with such pallid20 suffering upon her features that he felt torn between anger and a sort of unwilling21 pity. Her lips moved:
"It is impossible."
He thought he could not have heard aright.
"I beg your pardon?"
"It is impossible."
"Lady Gerardine...!"
"You do not know what you are asking. I cannot!"
"I think it is you who do not understand. The matter is so simple; those letters, that journal——"
"No—no."
"You refuse?" he exclaimed. Indignation was even stronger than surprise.
"You do not know what you are asking!" she repeated. And the cry of passion in her voice again startled both him and Aspasia.
Bethune rose, took up his hat in silence; stood awhile, his steel-pale eyes flaming upon the woman whom his friend had, from all the world, chosen to make his wife.
"I trust you will think it over," said he at length, as soon as he could control himself sufficiently22 to speak.
He paused again; but Lady Gerardine made no reply. She was still fixing him with that inexplicable23 gaze that seemed one of terror.
"I shall call again," said he, well-nigh in the tone of a menace; then bowed and turned away. At the door he halted. "But perhaps you did not keep those papers?" he said, upon a sudden scornful thought.
Still she held her peace, and in his heart he knew that this random24 shaft25 of his had fallen wide of the mark; that, whatever might be the explanation of her attitude, it was not indifference26.
Thoroughly27 dissatisfied with the result of his interview, with himself, and the whole situation, he strode down the long corridors into the cool echoing hall, where many pillars showed with faint barbaric tints28 between aisles29 of gloom.
At the very threshold of the colour and sunshine without, some one overtook him with patter of flying feet, some one nipped him by the sleeve with determined10 fingers. He looked, and it was Miss Aspasia. Her hazel eyes were rounder than ever; so was her button of a mouth. Her hair seemed to stand out, an aureole of amazement30, from her baby face.
"Don't be angry with Aunt Rosamond. Perhaps she will change her mind."
He wheeled round.
"Have you any idea," he asked, "of the reason for her refusal?"
Aspasia shook her head so violently that the halo danced again. She pursed her lips with a long drawn-out:
"No. You see," she added quickly, arresting him, as with head bent31 in thought he was once more proceeding32 on his way, "you see, we never speak of Aunt's first husband here. At least she never does. There is no picture of him about, not a sign of anything that has ever belonged to him. As far as she is concerned, it is just as if he had never been."
Raymond Bethune, of the Guides, jerked his head upwards33 in melancholy34 and bitter confirmation35. In the midst of his own preoccupation and disappointment he could not, however, help being struck with the engaging quality of the face thrust so confidingly36 close to his. Those yellow hazel eyes had depths of almost infantile candour.
"At least there is a soul that can afford to be transparent," he said to himself. Then aloud, following his first perplexed37 train of thought: "Perhaps it is because of your uncle, of Sir Arthur?" he suggested. "Lady Gerardine may be afraid of annoying him. Some men are jealous of their wives' first husbands." He smiled, half derisively38 to himself, half genially39 upon her.
"The Runkle!" cried Aspasia, with a giggle40. "Jealous? Oh no; I don't think so! Why, he is the only creature who ever does speak of Captain English in this place. Poor Runkle, he's so awfully41 pleased with himself, you know, that I don't think he could be jealous of anything or anybody."
"Why then——" Bethune's brow darkened at this confident removal of the only hypothesis that could put Lady Gerardine's behaviour in a favourable42 light. "Do you think," he said, regarding the girl reflectively, "that you could use your influence in this matter?"
Again Aspasia's head flew from side to side in violent negation43.
"Oh, I could not! Aunt Rosamond, she's a darling, she is more than good to me; I love her, but—it would seem such horrible impertinence. I cannot explain, Major Bethune, but I never feel as if I knew her really, nor as if she wanted me to know her. She always seems to me to be all outside, somehow."
He reflected a moment; then he suddenly held out his hand to her, with that softening44 of the countenance45 she had already noted46—and noted to approve.
"Will you? I want you to try and help me," said he. It was worded as a request; it was voiced, somehow, as a command.
She was preparing to twirl her curly mop, when she looked up and met his eyes. Then—she never knew how it happened—she said quite the opposite to what she had intended:
"I will try."
And this was a promise. There was no mistake about it. He held her hand for a second in a firm grasp; neither of them wotted, or cared, for the white-clad, dusky-faced retinue47 that stood like so many statues awaiting the moment to proffer8 their services. If a liquid eye rolled curiously48, however, it was an exception; your Hindoo has a dignified49 discretion50 of his own.
* * * * *
"Play me something, Baby."
Lady Gerardine was still lying back in her chair, almost as if she had not moved. Her face had perhaps a whiter pallor than before, but there was no other trace of emotion to be seen. Instead of obeying, Aspasia, with her promise heavy on her heart and all the indiscreet impulsiveness51 of her years, rushed over and flung herself at her aunt's feet, rubbing a coaxing52 head against her knees.
Rosamond laid her hand upon the curls. This Baby seized and kissed; then she looked up. Lady Gerardine smiled; it was a smile indulgent but of infinite detachment.
"It is perfectly53 absurd that I should call you Aunt," began the girl. True child as she was, she could think of no better scheme of attack than this wheedling54. "You look as young as I do."
"Young?" echoed the Governor's wife, wearily.
Baby was counting on her fingers: "I was, let me see, just twelve when you married the Runkle, six years ago. So," triumphantly55, "you are twenty-seven now. And that is, oh, quite ridiculously young for an aunt!"
Lady Gerardine sighed.
"Dear Aunt Rosamond," said Aspasia, suddenly, turning round to kneel and place her elbows on her aunt's knees while she looked earnestly into her face, "why won't you?"
"Why won't I what, Baby?"
"You know. Let that poor man have those papers. Dear Aunt Rosamond, I don't think it's quite fair."
The girl was trembling at her own temerity57. But now the elder woman showed neither anger nor distress58; only a marble stillness seemed to come over the living flesh. After a pause she placed her hand gently across Aspasia's mouth.
"Baby, never speak of that again," she said. And there was the most absolute finality in her voice. Then she leaned forward and kissed her niece. The touch of her lips struck Aspasia as deathly cold. "Now play me something."
Aspasia rose, baffled, not without a feeling akin59 to the irritation that Major Bethune had displayed a little while before. It was like being brought up by a smooth blank wall.
She marched to the piano, opened it, and plunged60 into a prelude61 of Bach's, glad to be able to work off some of her pent-up feelings. As she played she set her pointed62 chin; and, while her fingers flew, her thought wove in and out with the intricate music to a settled resolution:
"I don't care. Other people can be determined too. It is not fair of Aunt Rosamond. And I'll not give it up."
She finished her "Bach" with a triumphant56 chord.
"Thank you," said Lady Gerardine, "I like your music, Baby. It is so intellectual."
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收听单词发音
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1
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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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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5
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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6
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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7
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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proffer
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| v.献出，赠送；n.提议，建议 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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11
determinedly
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| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
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12
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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13
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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14
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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15
perversity
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| n.任性；刚愎自用 | |
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16
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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17
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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18
intruding
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| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的现在分词)；把…强加于 | |
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19
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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20
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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21
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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22
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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23
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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24
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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25
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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27
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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28
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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29
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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30
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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31
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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32
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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33
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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34
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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35
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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36
confidingly
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| adv.信任地 | |
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37
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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38
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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39
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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40
giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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41
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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42
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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43
negation
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| n.否定；否认 | |
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44
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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45
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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46
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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47
retinue
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| n.侍从；随员 | |
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48
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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49
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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50
discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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51
impulsiveness
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| n.冲动 | |
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52
coaxing
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
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53
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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54
wheedling
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
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55
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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56
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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57
temerity
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| n.鲁莽，冒失 | |
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58
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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59
akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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60
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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61
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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62
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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