The salt breeze was in their faces; in their ears was the rushing of the waters from the sides of the ship as she cut her way through. Already the something of England that the sea must always bring her children, the surroundings of an English ship especially, was about them! They seemed to have come from the land of languor1 and secret doings into open life, into simple action, into a busy, wholesome2 stir.
Beneath them pulsed the great heart of the ship, white foam3 pointing her way as she forged ahead. Behind her stretched the furrow4 of her course, two long lines, ever wider divergent till they lost themselves to the eye. And now, by some fantastic mirage5 effect, the great oriental port, with its glimmering6 minarets8 and cupolas, showed as if caught up into the sky itself. Let but this iron heart labour on a little while longer, let but this eager prow9 cut its way a little deeper towards the sunset, and the East would have vanished altogether.... The travellers would not even see the first glimmer7 of her evening lights hung a jewel necklace on the horizon, so swiftly had the sea laid hold of them.
Homeward bound! The step from pier10 to steamer had already severed11 the link of their strange affinity12 with the East. Its mystery had fallen from them. Already this was England. Rosamond Gerardine and Aspasia, side by side, watched the shores retreat, fade, sink, and vanish.
"Good-bye, India!" said Aspasia, her head sentimentally13 inclined, dropping at last the little handkerchief with which she had been frantically14 signalling long after there was any possibility of the vessel15 being descried16 from the land otherwise than as a black spot; "Good-bye, India, and hey for home!"
Lady Gerardine fixed17 the fading vision with wide, abstracted eyes.
"God grant," she said, under her breath, more to herself than to the girl beside her, "that I may never see those shores again!"
"Amen!" said Aspasia, cheerfully.
Rosamond laid her hand upon Aspasia's wrist as they leaned against the railings and pressed it with a grasp that almost hurt.
"An accursed land!" she went on, this time in a low, intense voice. It was as if she flung anathema18 to the retreating shores. "Cruel, cruel, treacherous19! Oh, God, what has it not already cost us English! Is there a home among us that has not paid its blood tribute to that relentless20 monster? Listen, child. I was as young as you when I last beheld21 its shores—thus—from the sea. It was in the dawn (it is fit it should now be dusk), and we stood together as I stand beside you to-day. And I saw it grow out of the sky, even with the dawn, a city of rose, of pearl, beyond words beautiful—unimaginable, it seemed to me, in promise! He said to me: 'Look, there is the first love of my life; is she not fair? And I am bringing to her my other love ... and you two are all that I will have of life.' And then he laughed and said: 'It would be strange if I wanted more, with two such loves.' And, again: 'Not even for you could I be false to her.'"
Aspasia, mystified, turned her bright gaze full upon her aunt's face. In the pupils of Rosamond's eyes there was enkindled a sullen22 fire.
"He came back to her," she went on; "and she—that land—lay smiling in the sunrise to receive him. Oh, how she can smile and look beautiful, and smell fragrant23, and caress24, with the dagger25 hidden under the velvet26, the snake in the rose, and the sudden grave yawning! I've never been home since," she said, with a sudden change of tone, bringing her glance back from the misty27 horizon, to fix it upon Aspasia with so piteous and haggard a look that the girl lost her composure. "And now I am coming home alone, and he remains28 there." She made an outward sweep with her left hand towards the north. "I am coming home alone. The other has kept him. She has kept him. I am alone: he is left behind."
"Who?" cried the bewildered Baby, who had utterly29 failed to seize the thread of her aunt's strange discourse30. And, upon her usual impulsiveness31 springing to a conclusion of mingled32 amazement33 and derision: "Who—Runkle?" she exclaimed.
No sooner had the foolish cry escaped her lips than she could have bitten out her tongue for vexation.
A change came over Lady Gerardine's face, colder and greyer than even the rapid tropic evening that was closing upon the scene. The light went out in her eyes, to be replaced by a distant contempt. The features that had quivered with passion became set into their wonted mask of repose34; it was as if a veil had dropped between them, as if a cold wind drove them apart.
"I was not speaking of your uncle," said Rosamond, at length, very gently. Then she suggested that as it was growing late they should take possession of their cabin.
And Aspasia, as she meekly35 acquiesced36, trembled upon tears at the thought of her blundering. For one moment this jealously centred heart had been about to open itself to her; for one moment this distant enfolded being had turned to her as woman to woman; impelled37 by God knows what sudden necessity of complaint, of another's sympathy, of another's understanding, the lonely soul had called upon hers. And she, Aspasia—Baby, well did they name her so—had not been able to seize the precious moment! The sound of her own foolish laugh still rang in her ears, while the unconscious contempt in Rosamond's gaze scorched38 her cheeks.
* * * * *
From the very first day, fate, in the shape of an imperiously intimate Aspasia, drew Raymond Bethune, the saturnine39 lonely man, into the narrow circle of Lady Gerardine's 'board-ship existence. In her double quality of great lady and semi-invalid, the Lieutenant-Governor's wife was to be withdrawn40 from the familiar intercourse41 which life on a liner imposes on most travellers. It had been Sir Arthur's care to see that she was provided with an almost royal accommodation, which, as everything in this world is comparative, chiefly consisted in the possession of a small sitting-room42 over and above the usual sleeping-cabin.
Into these sacred precincts Miss Cuningham hustled43 Bethune unceremoniously, as the first dusk closed round their travelling home on the waste of waters.
"Steward44! ... Oh, isn't it too bad, Major Bethune! I've been ringing like mad, and poor old Jani's bewildered out of her wits; and Gibbons—that's our English fool of a maid—she's taken to groaning45 already. There's not a creature to do anything for us, and that idiot there says he's nothing to say to the cabins!"
Her arms full of flowers, she stood close to him; and the fragrance46 of the roses and carnations47 came to him in little gushes48 with her panting breath. Her rosy49 face, in the uncertain light, had taken to itself an ethereal charm very different from its usual clear and positive outline. Hardly had this realisation of her personality come to him than, under the hands of the ship's servant she had so contemptuously indicated, the flood of the electric light leaped upon them. And behold50, she appeared to him yet fairer—youth triumphant51, defying even that cruel glare to find a blemish52 in bloom or contour.
"What do you want?" he asked, with the softening53 of his hard face which so few were ever privileged to see.
"A vase for our flowers—a big bowl. I hate messy little dabs54; and I don't want them to die an hour before they can help it. Oh, a really big bowl, at once!"
Her residence in an Indian governor's palace had been short, but sufficient to give Miss Aspasia the habit of command.
Raymond Bethune gave his dry chuckle55 as he set to work to fulfil her behest.
"I've captured a salad bowl," cried he, almost jovially56, when he returned; "and the head steward is in despair!"
"Tell him to steal the cook's pudding-basins," said Aspasia, and swept him back with her to the minute sitting-room.
Here sat Lady Gerardine, still wrapped in her cloak but bareheaded, under the shaded light. Leaning back among her cushions, her feet crossed on a footstool, she seemed to have taken full possession of her quarters. The narrow commonplace surroundings had already received her special personal imprint57. The flowers, the cushions, a few books, a great cut-glass scent58 bottle—the very disorder59 even of a litter of rich trifles that had not yet found their place, removed the trivial impression of steamer upholstery. She received him without surprise, if without any mark of welcome; and Aspasia chattered60, ordered, laughed, kept him employed and amused. Now and again Lady Gerardine smiled vaguely61 at her niece's outbursts. Bethune could not feel himself an intruder. And certainly it was better than his fourth share of a bachelor's cabin, better than the crowded saloon and smoking-rooms, with their pervading62 glare and odour of high polish.
Through the open port-hole came the sound of the rushing, swirling63 waters, punctuated64 by the slap of some sudden wave against the flank of the ship. A wind had arisen, and now and again gusts65, cold and briny66, rushed in upon the warm inner atmosphere of flowers.
Lady Gerardine held a large bouquet67 of Niphetos roses, and her pale long fingers were busy unrolling the bonds that braced68 them in artificial deportment. Their petals69, thought the man, were no whiter than her cheeks.
Presently Aspasia plunged70 her healthy pink hands down among the languid blossoms and began pulling out the wires.
"I shouldn't, if I were you," said Rosamond; and then she held up a spray. "See, the poor flower, all stained, all fallen apart, all broken. Never draw away the secret supports, Baby. It is better to hold one's head up, even with the iron in one's heart, and pretend it is not there."
Bethune looked at her, a little startled. In some scarcely tangible71 way the words seemed aimed at him; but he saw that for her, at that moment, he did not exist.
For the first time a pang72 of real misgiving73 shot through him. He seemed to behold her with new eyes. She struck him as very frail74. Could it be true, or did he but imagine it, that that lovely head, once so defiantly75 uplifted against him, now drooped76?
Feeling the fixity of his gaze upon her, she glanced up and then smiled. Strange being! Was he, then, so easily forgiven? His heart gave a sudden leap.
The memory of this first evening was one which haunted him all his life with a curious intimate sweetness.
* * * * *
Time passed as time will pass on board ship; vague hours resembling each other, dropping to dreamy length of days; days that yet lapse77 quickly and moreover work a sure but subtle change. No traveller that lands after a long sea journey is the same as he who started. Sometimes, indeed, he will look back upon his former self as upon another, with surprise.
So it was with Raymond Bethune; and if he came to view himself with surprise, still more inexplicable78 to him was the new Lady Gerardine as he learned to regard her. According to his presentiment79, these two women—she to whose puzzling personality he had vowed80 antipathy81, and she whose fresh young presence made dangerously strong demands upon his sympathy—soon began to absorb all the energies of his thoughts. To a man who had hitherto known no other emotion, outside a very ordinary type of home affection, than friendship for another man; whose life, with the exception of one brief period of glamorous82 hero-worship, had been devoted83 to duty in its sternest, most virile84 form, this mental pre-occupation over two women, both comparative strangers, was at first a matter for self-mockery. It was afterwards one of self-conflict. Whoso, however, has reached the point of actually combating an idea is already and obviously its victim, and the final stage of abandonment to the obsession85 cannot be very distant.
Looking back upon his memories, in later days, it was singular to him how completely the girl and the woman divided his most vivid impressions of that journey. If the vision of Aspasia, fresh as the spray, rosy as the dawn, coming to meet him of a morning, brisk and free, across the deck, her young figure outlined against sparkling sea and translucent86 sky, was a memory all pleasant and all sweet, the picture of that other, slow moving and pallid87, so enwrapped in inexplicable mourning, so immeasurably indifferent to himself, was bitten into the tablets of his mind as with burning acid, fixed in lines of pain.
It is never flattering for a man to realise that he is of no consequence to a woman with whom he is brought into daily intercourse. And to feel that, though his acts have had a distinct influence upon her life, his personality has failed to make the smallest impression, is a situation certain to pique88 the most unassuming. In the end Bethune began to wish that Lady Gerardine had retained even her original attitude of resentment89. Now and again, indeed, he would find her eye fixed upon him, but at the same time would know unmistakably that her thought was not with him. Sometimes her attitude of inexplicable sorrow seemed harder to bear than her first evidences of heartlessness.
One day Aspasia had suddenly attacked her aunt upon the subject of her black garb90, crying, with her noted91 heedlessness:
"I declare, any one would think you were in mourning."
Lady Gerardine shifted her distant gaze from the far horizon to Aspasia's countenance92, and her lips moved but made no sound. In her heart she was saying:
"How else should I clothe myself, when I am travelling with my dead?"
Almost as if he read her thought, Bethune sneered93 as he looked at her, and with difficulty restrained the taunt94 that rose to his tongue. "Lady Gerardine wears belated weeds!"
Her attitude of hopeless melancholy95, her raiment of mourning, irritated him bitterly. Yet, while he looked at her in harshness, he marked the admirable white throat, rising like a flower stem from the dense96 black of her dress, and found himself wondering whether any shimmer97 of colour would have become her half so well.
Towards the end of their journey together he was once summoned to speak with her alone. It was about the forthcoming book. Nothing could be more brief, more businesslike than her words, more unemotional than her manner. She asked for his instructions; she discussed, criticised, concurred99. It was obvious that, when she chose, her brain could act with quite remarkable100 clearness. It was also obvious that she had completely capitulated to his wishes; and yet never was victory more savourless.
At the conclusion of this conversation she settled with him that, when she had accomplished101 her part of the task, she would send for him. And as he withdrew, he felt himself dismissed from her thoughts, except as a mere102 instrument in what now seemed more her undertaking103 than his own. At heart he found it increasingly difficult to accept the position with good grace.
After this, during the few days of ship life together left to them, Lady Gerardine seldom admitted him to her company; and thus Raymond was the more thrown with Aspasia. The girl, unconventional by temperament104 and somewhat set apart by her position of "Governor's niece," unhesitatingly profited by a situation which afforded her unmixed amusement. She was not in love as yet with the Major of Guides. Indeed, she had other and higher ambitions. Aspasia's dream-pictures of herself were ever of a wonderful artist of world-wide celebrity105, surrounded by a sea of clapping hands, graciously curtseying her thanks from the side of a Steinway grand.... But Bethune interested her, and there was something piquantly106 pleasant in being able to awaken107 that gleam in his cold, light eye, in noticing that the lines of his impassive face relaxed into softness for her alone.
One afternoon, as they sat on deck—the great ship cutting the blue waters of the Adriatic, between the fading of a glorious red and orange sunset and the rising of a thin sickle108 moon, Aspasia wrapped against the chilly109 salt airs in some of her aunt's sables110, out of which richness the hardy111, wild-flower prettiness of her face rose in emphatic112 contrast—she told him the story of her short life.
She spoke113 of her musical career, of the bright student days at Vienna; the hard work of them, the anguish114, the struggle, the joy. Then of the death of her mother, and the falling of all her high hopes under the crushing will of Sir Arthur, her appointed guardian115.
"When mother went," said Aspasia, "everything went." As she spoke two tears leaped out of her eyes, and hung poised116 on the short, thick eyelashes. "The Runkle thinks it's a disgrace for a lady to do anything in life. 'And, besides,' he says, 'she can't, and she'd better not attempt it.' But wait till I'm twenty-one," cried the girl, vindictively117, "and I'll show him what his 'dear Raspasia's' got in her!"
She smiled in her young consciousness of power, and the big tears, detaching themselves, ran into her dimples. Raymond, looking at her with all the experience of his hard life behind him, and all the disillusion118 of his five-and-thirty years, felt so sudden a movement at once of pity and tenderness that he had to stiffen119 himself in his seat not to catch her in his arms and kiss her on those wet dimples as he would have kissed a child.
"Oh, you'll do great things," said he, in the tone in which one praises the little one's sand castle on the beach, or tin soldier strategy. "And may I come with a great big laurel crown, tied with gold ribbons, when you give your first concert in the Albert Hall?"
"Albert Hall," mocked she, "the very place for a piano recital120!" Then she let her eyes roam out across the heaving space. Once more she saw herself the centre of an applauding multitude; but, in the foremost rank, there was the lean, brown face, and it was moved to enthusiasm, too. And, somehow, from that evening forth98, the dream-visions of her future glory were never to be quite complete without it.
* * * * *
A mist-enwrapped, rain-swept shore, parting the dim grey sea and sky in twain, was their first glimpse of England after years of exile.
"Ugh," said Aspasia, shivering, "isn't it just like England to go and be damp and horrid121 for us!"
Lady Gerardine, looking out with eager straining gaze towards the weeping land, turned with one of her sudden, unexpected movements of passion upon the girl.
"I'm glad it's raining," she said. "I'm glad it's cold, and bleak122, and grey. I'm glad to feel the raindrops beating on nay123 face. I'm sick of hard blue skies and fierce sunshine.... And the trees at Saltwoods will be all bent124 one way by the blowing of the wet sea wind. It's England, it's home; and, oh, I'm glad to be home!"
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1
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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3
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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5
mirage
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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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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8
minarets
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| n.（清真寺旁由报告祈祷时刻的人使用的）光塔( minaret的名词复数 ) | |
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prow
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| n.(飞机)机头，船头 | |
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pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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affinity
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| n.亲和力，密切关系 | |
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sentimentally
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| adv.富情感地 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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descried
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| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
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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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anathema
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| n.诅咒；被诅咒的人(物)，十分讨厌的人(物) | |
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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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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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remains
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utterly
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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impulsiveness
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| n.冲动 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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saturnine
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| adj.忧郁的，沉默寡言的，阴沉的，感染铅毒的 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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42
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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43
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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45
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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46
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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carnations
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| n.麝香石竹，康乃馨( carnation的名词复数 ) | |
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gushes
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| n.涌出，迸发( gush的名词复数 )v.喷，涌( gush的第三人称单数 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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49
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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51
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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52
blemish
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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53
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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54
dabs
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| 少许( dab的名词复数 )； 是…能手； 做某事很在行； 在某方面技术熟练 | |
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55
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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56
jovially
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| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
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57
imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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punctuated
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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briny
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| adj.盐水的；很咸的；n.海洋 | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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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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petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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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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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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antipathy
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| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
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glamorous
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| adj.富有魅力的；美丽动人的；令人向往的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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virile
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| adj.男性的；有男性生殖力的；有男子气概的；强有力的 | |
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obsession
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| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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translucent
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| adj.半透明的；透明的 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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pique
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| v.伤害…的自尊心，使生气 n.不满，生气 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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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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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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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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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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concurred
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| 同意（concur的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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103
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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104
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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105
celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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piquantly
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107
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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sickle
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| n.镰刀 | |
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109
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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sables
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| n.紫貂( sable的名词复数 )；紫貂皮；阴暗的；暗夜 | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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112
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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113
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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114
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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115
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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116
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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117
vindictively
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| adv.恶毒地；报复地 | |
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118
disillusion
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| vt.使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭 | |
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119
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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120
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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121
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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122
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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123
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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124
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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