Neither Mr. Povey nor Constance introduced the delicate subject to her again, and she was determined1 not to be the first to speak of it. She considered that Mr. Povey had taken advantage of his position, and that he had also been infantile and impolite. And somehow she privately2 blamed Constance for his behaviour. So the matter hung, as it were, suspended in the ether between the opposing forces of pride and passion.
Shortly afterwards events occurred compared to which the vicissitudes3 of Mr. Povey's heart were of no more account than a shower of rain in April. And fate gave no warning of them; it rather indicated a complete absence of events. When the customary advice circular arrived from Birkinshaws, the name of 'our Mr. Gerald Scales' was replaced on it by another and an unfamiliar4 name. Mrs. Baines, seeing the circular by accident, experienced a sense of relief, mingled5 with the professional disappointment of a diplomatist who has elaborately provided for contingencies6 which have failed to happen. She had sent Sophia away for nothing; and no doubt her maternal7 affection had exaggerated a molehill into a mountain. Really, when she reflected on the past, she could not recall a single fact that would justify8 her theory of an attachment9 secretly budding between Sophia and the young man Scales! Not a single little fact! All she could bring forward was that Sophia had twice encountered Scales in the street.
She felt a curious interest in the fate of Scales, for whom in her own mind she had long prophesied10 evil, and when Birkinshaws' representative came she took care to be in the shop; her intention was to converse11 with him, and ascertain12 as much as was ascertainable13, after Mr. Povey had transacted14 business. For this purpose, at a suitable moment, she traversed the shop to Mr. Povey's side, and in so doing she had a fleeting15 view of King Street, and in King Street of a familiar vehicle. She stopped, and seemed to catch the distant sound of knocking. Abandoning the traveller, she hurried towards the parlour, in the passage she assuredly did hear knocking, angry and impatient knocking, the knocking of someone who thinks he has knocked too long.
"Of course Maggie is at the top of the house!" she muttered sarcastically16.
She unchained, unbolted, and unlocked the side-door.
"At last!" It was Aunt Harriet's voice, exacerbated17. "What! You, sister? You're soon up. What a blessing18!"
The two majestic19 and imposing20 creatures met on the mat, craning forward so that their lips might meet above their terrific bosoms21.
"What's the matter?" Mrs. Baines asked, fearfully.
"Well, I do declare!" said Mrs. Maddack. "And I've driven specially22 over to ask you!"
"Where's Sophia?" demanded Mrs. Baines.
"You don't mean to say she's not come, sister?" Mrs. Maddack sank down on to the sofa.
"Come?" Mrs. Baines repeated. "Of course she's not come! What do you mean, sister?"
"The very moment she got Constance's letter yesterday, saying you were ill in bed and she'd better come over to help in the shop, she started. I got Bratt's dog-cart for her."
Mrs. Baines in her turn also sank down on to the sofa.
"I've not been ill," she said. "And Constance hasn't written for a week! Only yesterday I was telling her--"
"Sister--it can't be! Sophia had letters from Constance every morning. At least she said they were from Constance. I told her to be sure and write me how you were last night, and she promised faithfully she would. And it was because I got nothing by this morning's post that I decided23 to come over myself, to see if it was anything serious."
"Serious it is!" murmured Mrs. Baines.
"What--"
"Sophia's run off. That's the plain English of it!" said Mrs. Baines with frigid24 calm.
"Nay25! That I'll never believe. I've looked after Sophia night and day as if she was my own, and--"
"If she hasn't run off, where is she?"
Mrs. Maddack opened the door with a tragic26 gesture.
"Bladen," she called in a loud voice to the driver of the waggonette, who was standing27 on the pavement.
"Yes'm."
"It was Pember drove Miss Sophia yesterday, wasn't it?"
"Yes'm."
She hesitated. A clumsy question might enlighten a member of the class which ought never to be enlightened about one's private affairs.
"He didn't come all the way here?"
"No'm. He happened to say last night when he got back as Miss Sophia had told him to set her down at Knype Station."
"I thought so!" said Mrs. Maddack, courageously28.
"Yes'm."
"Sister!" she moaned, after carefully shutting the door.
They clung to each other.
The horror of what had occurred did not instantly take full possession of them, because the power of credence29, of imaginatively realizing a supreme30 event, whether of great grief or of great happiness, is ridiculously finite. But every minute the horror grew more clear, more intense, more tragically31 dominant32 over them. There were many things that they could not say to each other,--from pride, from shame, from the inadequacy33 of words. Neither could utter the name of Gerald Scales. And Aunt Harriet could not stoop to defend herself from a possible charge of neglect; nor could Mrs. Baines stoop to assure her sister that she was incapable34 of preferring such a charge. And the sheer, immense criminal folly35 of Sophia could not even be referred to: it was unspeakable. So the interview proceeded, lamely36, clumsily, inconsequently, leading to naught37.
Sophia was gone. She was gone with Gerald Scales.
That beautiful child, that incalculable, untamable, impossible creature, had committed the final folly; without pretext38 or excuse, and with what elaborate deceit! Yes, without excuse! She had not been treated harshly; she had had a degree of liberty which would have astounded39 and shocked her grandmothers; she had been petted, humoured, spoilt. And her answer was to disgrace the family by an act as irrevocable as it was utterly40 vicious. If among her desires was the desire to humiliate41 those majesties42, her mother and Aunt Harriet, she would have been content could she have seen them on the sofa there, humbled43, shamed, mortally wounded! Ah, the monstrous44 Chinese cruelty of youth!
What was to be done? Tell dear Constance? No, this was not, at the moment, an affair for the younger generation. It was too new and raw for the younger generation. Moreover, capable, proud, and experienced as they were, they felt the need of a man's voice, and a man's hard, callous45 ideas. It was a case for Mr. Critchlow. Maggie was sent to fetch him, with a particular request that he should come to the side-door. He came expectant, with the pleasurable anticipation46 of disaster, and he was not disappointed. He passed with the sisters the happiest hour that had fallen to him for years. Quickly he arranged the alternatives for them. Would they tell the police, or would they take the risks of waiting? They shied away, but with fierce brutality47 he brought them again and again to the immediate48 point of decision. ... Well, they could not tell the police! They simply could not. Then they must face another danger. ... He had no mercy for them. And while he was torturing them there arrived a telegram, despatched from Charing49 Cross, "I am all right, Sophia." That proved, at any rate, that the child was not heartless, not merely careless.
Only yesterday, it seemed to Mrs. Baines, she had borne Sophia; only yesterday she was a baby, a schoolgirl to be smacked50. The years rolled up in a few hours. And now she was sending telegrams from a place called Charing Cross! How unlike was the hand of the telegram to Sophia's hand! How mysteriously curt51 and inhuman52 was that official hand, as Mrs. Baines stared at it through red, wet eyes!
Mr. Critchlow said some one should go to Manchester, to ascertain about Scales. He went himself, that afternoon, and returned with the news that an aunt of Scales had recently died, leaving him twelve thousand pounds, and that he had, after quarrelling with his uncle Boldero, abandoned Birkinshaws at an hour's notice and vanished with his inheritance.
"It's as plain as a pikestaff," said Mr. Critchlow. "I could ha' warned ye o' all this years ago, even since she killed her father!"
Mr. Critchlow left nothing unsaid.
During the night Mrs. Baines lived through all Sophia's life, lived through it more intensely than ever Sophia had done.
The next day people began to know. A whisper almost inaudible went across the Square, and into the town: and in the stillness every one heard it. "Sophia Baines run off with a commercial!"
In another fortnight a note came, also dated from London.
"Dear Mother, I am married to Gerald Scales. Please don't worry about me. We are going abroad. Your affectionate Sophia. Love to Constance." No tear-stains on that pale blue sheet! No sign of agitation53!
And Mrs. Baines said: "My life is over." It was, though she was scarcely fifty. She felt old, old and beaten. She had fought and been vanquished54. The everlasting55 purpose had been too much for her. Virtue56 had gone out of her--the virtue to hold up her head and look the Square in the face. She, the wife of John Baines! She, a Syme of Axe57!
Old houses, in the course of their history, see sad sights, and never forget them! And ever since, in the solemn physiognomy of the triple house of John Baines at the corner of St. Luke's Square and King Street, have remained the traces of the sight it saw on the morning of the afternoon when Mr. and Mrs. Povey returned from their honeymoon--the sight of Mrs. Baines getting into the waggonette for Axe; Mrs. Baines, encumbered58 with trunks and parcels, leaving the scene of her struggles and her defeat, whither she had once come as slim as a wand, to return stout59 and heavy, and heavy-hearted, to her childhood; content to live with her grandiose60 sister until such time as she should be ready for burial! The grimy and impassive old house perhaps heard her heart saying: "Only yesterday they were little girls, ever so tiny, and now--" The driving-off of a waggonette can be a dreadful thing.
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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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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contingencies
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| n.偶然发生的事故，意外事故( contingency的名词复数 )；以备万一 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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ascertainable
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| adj.可确定（探知），可发现的 | |
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transacted
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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exacerbated
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| v.使恶化，使加重( exacerbate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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bosoms
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| 胸部( bosom的名词复数 )； 胸怀； 女衣胸部（或胸襟）； 和爱护自己的人在一起的情形 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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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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courageously
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| ad.勇敢地，无畏地 | |
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credence
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| n.信用，祭器台，供桌，凭证 | |
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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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tragically
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| adv. 悲剧地，悲惨地 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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inadequacy
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| n.无法胜任，信心不足 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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humiliate
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| v.使羞辱，使丢脸[同]disgrace | |
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majesties
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| n.雄伟( majesty的名词复数 )；庄严；陛下；王权 | |
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humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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charing
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| n.炭化v.把…烧成炭，把…烧焦( char的现在分词 )；烧成炭，烧焦；做杂役女佣 | |
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smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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54
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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56
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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encumbered
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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grandiose
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| adj.宏伟的，宏大的，堂皇的，铺张的 | |
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