Aspasia still felt the pressure of Bethune's unconsciously hard hand-grip. His image, as he had stood bareheaded looking after the moving train, was still vivid before her eyes. His last words: "It is not good-bye," were ringing in her ears. His face had looked wistful, she thought; his cold glance had taken that warm good look she claimed as her own. She was glad it was not good-bye. And yet, as they steamed away, she, watching him as long as she could, saw, and could not hide it from herself, that it was upon Lady Gerardine his eyes were fixed2 at the last—fixed with an expression which had already become familiar to her. "One would think he hated her—sometimes," said shrewd Baby to herself, "and yet, when she's there, he forgets me. I might as well be dead, or a fright."
This puzzled her and troubled her, too, a little. She glanced across now at her aunt's abstracted countenance3. "I am sure," she thought, in loyal admiration4, "if he were madly in love with her, it would be only natural. But it's not love—it's more like hate and a sort of pain." With all her sageness5, Baby was only eighteen.
How completely had Raymond Bethune passed from Lady Gerardine's mind—even before he had passed from her sight!
She had nearly reached the end of her journey. The burning land she had left behind her—once the land of her desire—seemed now but a place visited in long evil dreams, where she had undergone unimaginable sufferings during the bondage6 of sleep. The humid air of England beat upon her face through the open window with a comforting assurance as of waking reality.
She had told herself she was travelling with her dead. Never for one hour of her long journey had she forgotten the meaning of that box under Jani's care. But, with every sunrise that marked a wider distance between her and India, she drew a freer breath. With every stage she felt herself less Lady Gerardine, wife; and more Mrs. English, widow. There was beginning to be an extraordinary restfulness in the sensation.
They sped through the New Forest glades7, sodden8 after the rain, now flashing gold-brown with that shaft9 of sun; now black-green, cavernous, mysterious, where the pines grow close. And then came the moorland stretches, reaching up to a pale-blue cleft10 in the storm-weighted clouds. How cool it all was! How soft the colours! How benign11 the wet sky, how different from the metal glare of the land that had betrayed her!
And, by-and-by, white gleams of sunshine began to deepen into primroses12 and ambers; towards the west the sky grew ever clearer, and the leaden wrack14, parting, showed an horizon like to a honey sea against the rising mists of evening. How beautiful was England!
When they got out at the little country station, in the rural heart of Dorset, the day was closing in. The vault15 of the heavens brooded over the earth with a cup-like closeness. November though it was, the air struck upon their cheeks as gently as a caress16, all impregnated with the fragrance17 of wet green indefinably touched with the tart18 accent of decay.
Rosamond drew a long deep breath; it had a poignant19 pleasure in it; tears sprang to her eyes, but, for the first time in God knew how many years, there was a sweetness in them. Jani at her elbow shivered with an aguish chatter20 of teeth. With one hand she clutched her shawls across her little lean figure; with the other she held on fiercely to a battered21 tin box.
"Oh, Aunt Rosamond," cried Aspasia, ecstatically, as they got into the vehicle awaiting them, "it's a fly, it's a fly! Aren't you glad? Do you smell the musty straw? Oh! doesn't it bring back good old times? Don't you wish you may never sit in a state carriage again?"
It was a long drive, through winding22 lanes. Sometimes they strained uphill, sometimes they skirted the flat down; sometimes the branches of the overhanging trees beat against the roof of the carriage or in at the open window. At first the whole land was wonderfully still. They could hear the moisture drip from the leaves when the horses were at the walk. And, by-and-by, there grew out of the distance the faint yet mighty23 rumour24 of the sea. Within such short measure, then, this small, great England was meeting her salt limits! Across the upland down, presently, even on this silent evening, there rose a wind to sing of the surf. The trees by the roadside, in the copses amid fields, on the crest25, etched against the glimmer26 of the sky, had all that regular inland bent27 that tells of salt winds.
At last the rickety fly began to jingle28 and jolt29 along a road that was hardly more than a track. The way dipped down an abrupt30 slope and then branched off unexpectedly into a side lane. Rosamond leaned out of the window; she felt they were drawing near her unknown home.
"Are we there?" cried Aspasia, entering into a violent state of excitement as they came to a halt before a swing gate.
Rosamond did not answer. She was looking with all her eyes, with all her heart. Sudden memories awoke within her—words, never even noted31 to be forgotten, began to whisper in her ears: "You never saw such a place, love. It isn't a place, it's a queer old house dumped down in a hollow of the downs. And the avenue—there isn't an avenue, it's a road through the orchard32, and the orchard comes right up to the house—and you never saw such a bunch of chimney-stacks in your life. But such as it is, I love it. And some day we'll go and live there, you and I...." Here, then, were the orchard trees, twisted shapes, stretching out unpruned branches to them as they passed!
"I almost plucked an apple," cried Aspasia, from her side, with a childish scream.
The sky was rift33 just about the horizon—the afterglow primrose13 against the sullen34 gloom of the cloud banks. Cut into sharp silhouette35 against this pallid36 translucence37, rose the black outline of the house and right across it the fantastic old-time chimney-stack, at sight of which Rosamond laughed low to herself as one who recognises the face of a friend. "You never saw such a bunch of chimney-stacks in your life!..."
A faint column of smoke ascended38 pale against the gloom where the chimneys lost themselves in the skies. As Rosamond noted it, her heart stirred; all was not dead then—the old house, his house, was alive and waiting for her!
They drew up close to the stone porch, open to the night, flush with the level of the out-jutting gables, and the driver, plunging39 into the black recess40, sent the jangle of a bell ringing through inner spaces. In the waiting pause all was very silent, save the stealthy patter from the overgrown ivy41 clumps42 that hung across the entrance. There was a rustle43, the hop44 of an awakened45 bird, quite close to Rosamond's ear, as she leaned out with the eagerness that had been growing upon her ever since her landing.
Then came steps within: the door was opened first but a little space, with the habitual46 precaution of the lowly caretaker, then suddenly drawn47 wide. A square of light that seemed golden was cut out of the darkness, and:
"You're welcome, ma'am," cried old Mary, tremulously smoothing her apron48.
Lady Gerardine passed with fixed eyes and straight steps into the hall, but she turned quickly as the words struck her ear. Aspasia, following, saw her face illumined by a smile that was almost joy. And the girl became secretly a little alarmed; her aunt's ways had been all inexplicable49 to her of late.
Rosamond's heart was crying out within her, and it was with actual joy. "Welcome, ma'am," had said his servant—to old Mary the mistress of Saltwoods was Captain English's widow—even to herself might she not now cease to be Lady Gerardine for a brief respite50? Oh, then would the manor-house be home indeed!
A great sense of peace, accompanied by a sudden lassitude, fell upon her; she sank into an armchair, flinging her arms wide with a gesture of relief. Opposite to her was a sturdy oaken table, upon which the housekeeper51 had just placed a hand-lamp. The light fell full upon a rack displaying a hunting-crop, a couple of rough walking-sticks; above, there was the sketch52 of a boy's face. Her gaze wandered, without at first taking in the meaning of what it saw.
Noise resounded53 from the porch; it was Jani, struggling with the coachman for the possession of the old regimental case.
Rosamond looked quickly up again at the bright living presentment on the wall; then she rose to her feet and staggered blindly through the nearest door. There, in sheltering darkness, Aspasia promptly54 overtook her, and was terrified, as she clasped her warm young arms round her aunt's figure, to find it torn by sobs55.
"Let me be, let me be!" exclaimed Lady Gerardine, pushing the girl from her, "it is good to give way at last."
And Aspasia, pressing her face in wordless attempt at consolation56 against her aunt's cheek, found it streaming with a very torrent57 of tears.
* * * * *
"Ah," said old Mary, shaking her head, as Miss Cuningham presently besought58 her for the feminine panacea59 of tea, "poor lady, it's no wonder: he was a grand young gentleman!"
It was, indeed, evident that here Lady Gerardine could never be anything but Captain English's widow.
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1
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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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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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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sageness
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| n.贤明；明智 | |
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bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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primroses
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| n.报春花( primrose的名词复数 )；淡黄色；追求享乐（招至恶果） | |
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13
primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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wrack
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| v.折磨；n.海草 | |
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15
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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18
tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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19
poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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21
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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22
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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23
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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25
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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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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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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28
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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29
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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30
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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32
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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33
rift
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| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
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34
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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35
silhouette
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| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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36
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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37
translucence
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| n.半透明 | |
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38
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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40
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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41
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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42
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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43
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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44
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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45
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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46
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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47
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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48
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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49
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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50
respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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51
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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52
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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53
resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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54
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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55
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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56
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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57
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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58
besought
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| v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的过去式和过去分词 )；(beseech的过去式与过去分词) | |
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59
panacea
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| n.万灵药；治百病的灵药 | |
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