With this additional evidence of George Penwyn’s letters, fully acknowledging Muriel as his wife, Maurice felt that there was no further cause for delay. The law could not be too soon set in motion, if the law were needed to secure Muriel and Justina their rights. But before appealing to the law he resolved upon submitting the whole case to Churchill Penwyn and to Justina, in order to discover the possibility of compromise. It would be a hard thing to reduce Churchill and his wife to beggary. They had spent their money wisely, and done good in the land. An equitable5 division of the estate would be better pleasing to Maurice’s idea of justice than a strict exaction6 of legal rights, and he had little doubt that Justina would think with him.
His first duty was to go to her and tell her all the truth, and he lost no time in performing that duty. It was on Saturday morning that he found the letters in the loft7, and on Saturday evening he was in London, with the quiet of Sunday before him in which to make his revelation.
He left a note for Justina at her lodgings,—
‘Dear Miss Elgood,
‘Please do not go to church to-morrow morning, as I want to have a long talk with you on a serious business matter, and will call at eleven for that purpose.
‘Yours always,
‘Maurice Clissold.’
‘Saturday evening.’
He found her ready to receive him next morning at eleven, fresh and fair in her simple autumn dress of fawn-coloured cashmere, with neat linen8 collar and cuffs9, a blue ribbon and silver locket, her sole ornaments10.
His letter had filled her with vague apprehensions11 which Matthew Elgood’s arguments had not been able to dispel12.
‘What business can you have to talk about with me?’ she asked, nervously13, as she and Maurice shook hands. ‘I hope it is nothing dreadful. Your letter has kept me in a fever ever since I received it.’
‘I am sorry to hear that. I ought to have said less, or more. It is a serious business, but I hope not one that need give you pain, except so far as your tenderness and compassion14 may be concerned for others. The story I am going to tell you is a sad one, and has to do with your own infancy15.’
‘I can’t understand,’ she said, with a perplexed16 look.
‘Don’t try to understand until I have told you more. I shall make everything very clear to you in due time.’
‘Papa may hear, I suppose?’ said she, with a glance at the comedian17, who had laid down his after-breakfast pipe, and was looking far from comfortable.
‘Yes, I see no reason why Mr. Elgood should not hear all I have to say. He will be able to confirm some of my statements.’
Matthew Elgood moved uneasily in his chair, emptied the ashes from his pipe with a shaking hand, wiped his forehead with an enormous bandanna18, and then burst out suddenly:
‘Justina, Mr. Clissold is about to make a revelation. I know enough of its nature to know that it will be startling. I think I’ve done my duty by you, my girl; urged you on in your profession; taught you how to walk the stage, how to make a point; taught you Miss Farren’s original business in Lady Teazle. We’ve shared and shared alike, through good and foul19 weather. Lear and his Fool couldn’t have stuck better by each other. We’ve tramped the barren heath of life through storm and tempest, and if you’ve had to wear leaky shoes sometimes, why, so have I. And if you discover from Mr. Clissold,’ pointing his pipe at Maurice with tremulous hand, ‘that I am not so much your father as I might have been had nature intended me for that position, I hope your heart will speak for me, and confess that I have done a father’s duty.’
With this closing appeal Mr. Elgood laid down his pipe, buried his face in the big bandanna, and sobbed20 aloud.
Justina was on her knees at his feet in a moment, her arms around him, his grizzled head drawn21 down upon her shoulder, soothing22, caressing23 him.
‘Dear papa, what can you mean! Not my father?’
‘No, my love,’ sobbed the comedian. ‘Legally, actually, as a matter of fact, I have no claim to that title. Morally, it is another pair of shoes. I held you at the baptismal font—I have fed you many a time when your sole refreshment24 was alike insipid25 and sloppy,—these hands have guided your infantine steps, yet, I am not your father. Legally I have no authority over you—or your salary.’
‘You are my father all the same,’ answered Justina, emphatically. ‘What other father have I?’
‘Your legal parent has certainly been conspicuous26 by his absence, my love. You were placed in my wife’s arms on the day of your birth—an abandoned child—and from that hour to her death she honestly performed a mother’s part.’
‘And never had less than a mother’s love!’ cried Justina. ‘Do not fear, dear papa, that anything I may hear to-day can ever lessen27 my affection for you. We have borne too much misfortune together not to love each other dearly,’ she added, with a touch of sadness.
‘Say on, sir!’ exclaimed the actor, with an oratorical28 flourish of his bandanna; ‘she is staunch, and I fear not the issue.’
Maurice told his story in plainest words—the story of Muriel’s marriage and Muriel’s sorrow. Justina heard him with tears of tenderness and pity.
‘Now, Justina,’ he said, after having explained everything, ‘you understand that you have a legal claim to the Penwyn estate. Your grandfather’s will bequeathed the property to George Penwyn, your father, or his issue, male or female. If a daughter inherited, her husband, whomsoever she married, was to assume the name of Penwyn. I have taken the trouble to read the will, and I have no doubt as to your position. You can file a bill in chancery—or your next friend for you—to-morrow, and you can oust29 Churchill Penwyn from house and land, wealth and social status. It will be rather hard upon his wife, who is a very sweet woman, and has done much good in her neighbourhood.’
‘Do you think I want his money or his land?’ cried Justina, indignantly. ‘Not a sixpence—not a rood. I only want the name you say I have a right to bear—James Penwyn’s name. To think that we were cousins! Poor James!’
‘You dislike Churchill Penwyn. This would be a grand revenge for you.’
‘I dislike him because I have never been able to rid myself of the idea that he had some hand, directly or indirectly30, in his cousin’s death. But I do not wish to injure him. I leave him to God and his own conscience. If he has sinned as I believe he has, life must be bitter to him—in spite of wealth and position.’
‘Are you not intoxicated31 by the notion of being Lady of Penwyn Manor32?’ asked Maurice.
‘No. I am content to be what I am—to earn my own bread, and live happily with poor old papa,’ laying her hand lovingly on the comedian’s shoulder.
A welcome hearing this for Maurice Clissold, who had feared lest change of fortune should work a fatal change in the girl he loved. But he suppressed all emotion, and went on in his business-like tone.
‘Well, Justina, since you seem to regard your right to the Penwyn estate with supreme33 indifference34, you will be the more likely to fall into my way of thinking. Looking at the case from an equitable standpoint, it does certainly appear to me that, although by the old Squire’s will you are entitled to the whole of the property, it would be not the less an injustice35 were you to claim all. It would seem a hard thing to deprive Churchill Penwyn altogether of an estate which he has administered with judgment36 and benevolence37. My idea, therefore, is that I, as your next friend, if you will allow me the privilege of that position, should state the case to Mr. Penwyn, and propose a compromise, namely, that he should mortgage the estate for a sum of money amounting to half its value, and should deliver that money to you. His income would in this manner be reduced by one-half, by the interest on this sum, and it would be at his discretion38 to save money, even with that smaller income, and lessen the amount of the mortgage out of his accumulations, as the years went on. I think this would be at once a fair and liberal proposal, making his change of fortune as light as possible.’
‘I do not want any of his money,’ said Justina, impetuously.
‘My love, that is simply childish,’ exclaimed Mr. Elgood.
‘Let me act for you, Justina; trust me to deal generously with the Squire and his wife.’
‘I will trust you,’ she answered, looking up at him with perfect faith and love.
‘Trust me in this and in all things. You shall not find me unworthy of your confidence.’
And this was all that was said about the Penwyn estate. Maurice spent the rest of the day with Justina, took her to Westminster Abbey in the afternoon to hear a great preacher, and walked with her afterwards in the misty39 groves40 of St. James’s Park, and then and there, feeling that he was now free to open his heart to her, told her in truest, tenderest words, how the happiness of his future life was bound up in her; how, rich or poor, she was dearer to him than all the world beside.
And so, in the London fog and gloom, under the smoky metropolitan41 trees, they plighted42 their troth—Justina ineffably43 happy.
‘I thought you did not care for me,’ she said, when all had been told.
‘I thought you only cared for James Penwyn’s memory,’ answered Maurice.
‘Poor James! That love was like a midsummer night’s dream.’
‘And this is reality?’
‘Yes.’
He held her to his beating heart under the autumnal trees, and kissed her with the kiss of betrothal44.
‘My love! my dearest! my truest! my best!—what is wealth or position, or all this bitter world can give and take away, measured against love like ours?’ And after this homily, which Justina remembered a great deal better than the great preacher’s sermon, they turned their faces homewards, and arrived just in time to prevent the utter ruin of the dinner, which their tardiness45 had imperilled.
‘You wouldn’t have liked to see a pretty little bit of beef like that reduced to the condition of a deal board, now, would you?’ asked Mr. Elgood, pointing to the miniature sirloin.
Maurice and Justina interchanged smiles. They were thinking that they would be content to dine upon deal boards henceforward, so long as they dined together.
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1
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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withheld
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| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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equitable
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| adj.公平的；公正的 | |
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exaction
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| n.强求，强征；杂税 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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dispel
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| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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14
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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bandanna
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| n.大手帕 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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insipid
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| adj.无味的，枯燥乏味的，单调的 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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oratorical
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| adj.演说的，雄辩的 | |
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oust
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| vt.剥夺，取代，驱逐 | |
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indirectly
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| adv.间接地，不直接了当地 | |
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31
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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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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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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42
plighted
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| vt.保证，约定（plight的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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ineffably
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| adv.难以言喻地，因神圣而不容称呼地 | |
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44
betrothal
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| n. 婚约, 订婚 | |
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45
tardiness
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| n.缓慢；迟延；拖拉 | |
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