The next afternoon the sisters, in the drawing-room, saw Dr. Stirling's motor-car speeding down the Square. The doctor's partner, young Harrop, had died a few years before at the age of over seventy, and the practice was much larger than it had ever been, even in the time of old Harrop. Instead of two or three horses, Stirling kept a car, which was a constant spectacle in the streets of the district.
"I do hope he'll call in," said Mrs. Povey, and sighed.
Sophia smiled to herself with a little scorn. She knew that Constance's desire for Dr. Stirling was due simply to the need which she felt of telling some one about the great calamity1 that had happened to them that morning. Constance was utterly2 absorbed by it, in the most provincial3 way. Sophia had said to herself at the beginning of her sojourn4 in Bursley, and long afterwards, that she should never get accustomed to the exasperating6 provinciality7 of the town, exemplified by the childish preoccupation of the inhabitants with their own two-penny affairs. No characteristic of life in Bursley annoyed her more than this. None had oftener caused her to yearn8 in a brief madness for the desert-like freedom of great cities. But she had got accustomed to it. Indeed, she had almost ceased to notice it. Only occasionally, when her nerves were more upset than usual, did it strike her.
She went into Constance's bedroom to see whether the doctor's car halted in King Street. It did.
"He's here," she called out to Constance.
"I wish you'd go down, Sophia," said Constance. "I can't trust that minx----"
So Sophia went downstairs to superintend the opening of the door by the minx.
The doctor was radiant, according to custom.
"I thought I'd just see how that dizziness was going on," said he as he came up the steps.
"I'm glad you've come," said Sophia, confidentially10. Since the first days of their acquaintanceship they had always been confidential9. "You'll do my sister good to-day."
Just as Maud was closing the door a telegraph-boy arrived, with a telegram addressed to Mrs. Scales. Sophia read it and then crumpled11 it in her hand.
"What's wrong with Mrs. Povey to-day?" the doctor asked, when the servant had withdrawn12.
"She only wants a bit of your society," said Sophia. "Will you go up? You know the way to the drawing-room. I'll follow."
As soon as he had gone she sat down on the sofa, staring out of the window. Then with a grunt13: "Well, that's no use, anyway!" she went upstairs after the doctor. Already Constance had begun upon her recital14.
"Yes," Constance was saying. "And when I went down this morning to keep an eye on the breakfast, I thought Spot was very quiet--" She paused. "He was dead in the drawer. She pretended she didn't know, but I'm sure she did. Nothing will convince me that she didn't poison that dog with the mice-poison we had last year. She was vexed15 because Sophia took her up sharply about Fossette last night, and she revenged herself on the other dog. It would just be like her. Don't tell me! I know. I should have packed her off at once, but Sophia thought better not. We couldn't prove anything, as Sophia says. Now, what do you think of it, doctor?"
Constance's eyes suddenly filled with tears.
"Ye'd had Spot a long time, hadn't ye?" he said sympathetically.
She nodded. "When I was married," said she, "the first thing my husband did was to buy a fox-terrier, and ever since we've always had a fox-terrier in the house." This was not true, but Constance was firmly convinced of its truth.
"It's very trying," said the doctor. "I know when my Airedale died, I said to my wife I'd never have another dog--unless she could find me one that would live for ever. Ye remember my Airedale?"
"Oh, quite well!"
"Well, my wife said I should be bound to have another one sooner or later, and the sooner the better. She went straight off to Oldcastle and bought me a spaniel pup, and there was such a to-do training it that we hadn't too much time to think about Piper."
Constance regarded this procedure as somewhat callous16, and she said so, tartly17. Then she recommenced the tale of Spot's death from the beginning, and took it as far as his burial, that afternoon, by Mr. Critchlow's manager, in the yard. It had been necessary to remove and replace paving-stones.
"Of course," said Dr. Stirling, "ten years is a long time. He was an old dog. Well, you've still got the celebrated18 Fossette." He turned to Sophia.
"Oh yes," said Constance, perfunctorily. "Fossette's ill. The fact is that if Fossette hadn't been ill, Spot would probably have been alive and well now."
Her tone exhibited a grievance19. She could not forget that Sophia had harshly dismissed Spot to the kitchen, thus practically sending him to his death. It seemed very hard to her that Fossette, whose life had once been despaired of, should continue to exist, while Spot, always healthy and unspoilt, should die untended, and by treachery. For the rest, she had never liked Fossette. On Spot's behalf she had always been jealous of Fossette.
"Probably alive and well now!" she repeated, with a peculiar20 accent.
Observing that Sophia maintained a strange silence, Dr. Stirling suspected a slight tension in the relations of the sisters, and he changed the subject. One of his great qualities was that he refrained from changing a subject introduced by a patient unless there was a professional reason for changing it.
"I've just met Richard Povey in the town," said he. "He told me to tell ye that he'll be round in about an hour or so to take you for a spin. He was in a new car, which he did his best to sell to me, but he didn't succeed."
"It's very kind of Dick," said Constance. "But this afternoon really we're not--"
"I'll thank ye to take it as a prescription21, then," replied the doctor. "I told Dick I'd see that ye went. Splendid June weather. No dust after all that rain. It'll do ye all the good in the world. I must exercise my authority. The truth is, I've gradually been losing all control over ye. Ye do just as ye like."
"Oh, doctor, how you do run on!" murmured Constance, not quite well pleased to-day by his tone.
After the scene between Sophia and herself at Buxton, Constance had always, to a certain extent, in the doctor's own phrase, 'got her knife into him.' Sophia had, then, in a manner betrayed him. Constance and the doctor discussed that matter with frankness, the doctor humorously accusing her of being 'hard' on him. Nevertheless the little cloud between them was real, and the result was often a faint captiousness23 on Constance's part in judging the doctor's behaviour.
"He's got a surprise for ye, has Dick!" the doctor added.
Dick Povey, after his father's death and his own partial recovery, had set up in Hanbridge as a bicycle agent. He was permanently24 lamed25, and he hopped26 about with a thick stick. He had succeeded with bicycles and had taken to automobiles27, and he was succeeding with automobiles. People were at first startled that he should advertise himself in the Five Towns. There was an obscure general feeling that because his mother had been a drunkard and his father a murderer, Dick Povey had no right to exist. However, when it had recovered from the shock of seeing Dick Povey's announcement of bargains in the Signal, the district most sensibly decided28 that there was no reason why Dick Povey should not sell bicycles as well as a man with normal parents. He was now supposed to be acquiring wealth rapidly. It was said that he was a marvellous chauffeur29, at once daring and prudent30. He had one day, several years previously31, overtaken the sisters in the rural neighbourhood of Sneyd, where they had been making an afternoon excursion. Constance had presented him to Sophia, and he had insisted on driving the ladies home. They had been much impressed by his cautious care of them, and their natural prejudice against anything so new as a motorcar had been conquered instantly. Afterwards he had taken them out for occasional runs. He had a great admiration32 for Constance, founded on gratitude33 to Samuel Povey; and as for Sophia, he always said to her that she would be an ornament34 to any car.
"You haven't heard his latest, I suppose?" said the doctor, smiling.
"What is it?" Sophia asked perfunctorily.
"He wants to take to ballooning. It seems he's been up once."
Constance made a deprecating noise with her lips.
"However, that's not his surprise," the doctor added, smiling again at the floor. He was sitting on the music-stool, and saying to himself, behind his mask of effulgent35 good-nature: "It gets more and more uphill work, cheering up these two women. I'll try them on Federation36."
Federation was the name given to the scheme for blending the Five Towns into one town, which would be the twelfth largest town in the kingdom. It aroused fury in Bursley, which saw in the suggestion nothing but the extinction37 of its ancient glory to the aggrandizement38 of Hanbridge. Hanbridge had already, with the assistance of electric cars that whizzed to and fro every five minutes, robbed Bursley of two-thirds of its retail39 trade--as witness the steady decadence40 of the Square!--and Bursley had no mind to swallow the insult and become a mere41 ward5 of Hanbridge. Bursley would die fighting. Both Constance and Sophia were bitter opponents of Federation. They would have been capable of putting Federationists to the torture. Sophia in particular, though so long absent from her native town, had adopted its cause with characteristic vigour42. And when Dr. Stirling wished to practise his curative treatment of taking the sisters 'out of themselves,' he had only to start the hare of Federation and the hunt would be up in a moment. But this afternoon he did not succeed with Sophia, and only partially43 with Constance. When he stated that there was to be a public meeting that very night, and that Constance as a ratepayer ought to go to it and vote, if her convictions were genuine, she received his chaff44 with a mere murmur22 to the effect that she did not think she should go. Had the man forgotten that Spot was dead? At length he became grave, and examined them both as to their ailments45, and nodded his head, and looked into vacancy46 while meditating47 upon each case. And then, when he had inquired where they meant to go for their summer holidays, he departed.
"Aren't you going to see him out?" Constance whispered to Sophia, who had shaken hands with him at the drawingroom door. It was Sophia who did the running about, owing to the state of Constance's sciatic nerve. Constance had, indeed, become extraordinarily48 inert49, leaving everything to Sophia.
Sophia shook her head. She hesitated; then approached Constance, holding out her hand and disclosing the crumpled telegram.
"Look at that!" said she.
Her face frightened Constance, who was always expectant of new anxieties and troubles. Constance straightened out the paper with difficulty, and read--
"Mr. Gerald Scales is dangerously ill here. Boldero, 49, Deansgate, Manchester."
All through the inexpressibly tedious and quite unnecessary call of Dr. Stirling--(Why had he chosen to call just then? Neither of them was ill)--Sophia had held that telegram concealed50 in her hand and its information concealed in her heart. She had kept her head up, offering a calm front to the world. She had given no hint of the terrible explosion--for an explosion it was. Constance was astounded51 at her sister's self-control, which entirely52 passed her comprehension. Constance felt that worries would never cease, but would rather go on multiplying until death ended all. First, there had been the frightful53 worry of the servant; then the extremely distressing54 death and burial of Spot--and now it was Gerald Scales turning up again! With what violence was the direction of their thoughts now shifted! The wickedness of maids was a trifle; the death of pets was a trifle. But the reappearance of Gerald Scales! That involved the possibility of consequences which could not even be named, so afflictive55 was the mere prospect56 to them. Constance was speechless, and she saw that Sophia was also speechless.
Of course the event had been bound to happen. People do not vanish never to be heard of again. The time surely arrives when the secret is revealed. So Sophia said to herself--now!
She had always refused to consider the effect of Gerald's reappearance. She had put the idea of it away from her, determined57 to convince herself that she had done with him finally and for ever. She had forgotten him. It was years since he had ceased to disturb her thoughts--many years. "He MUST be dead," she had persuaded herself. "It is inconceivable that he should have lived on and never come across me. If he had been alive and learnt that I had made money, he would assuredly have come to me. No, he must be dead!"
And he was not dead! The brief telegram overwhelmingly shocked her. Her life had been calm, regular, monotonous58. And now it was thrown into an indescribable turmoil59 by five words of a telegram, suddenly, with no warning whatever. Sophia had the right to say to herself: "I have had my share of trouble, and more than my share!" The end of her life promised to be as awful as the beginning. The mere existence of Gerald Scales was a menace to her. But it was the simple impact of the blow that affected60 her supremely61, beyond ulterior things. One might have pictured fate as a cowardly brute62 who had struck this ageing woman full in the face, a felling blow, which however had not felled her. She staggered, but she stuck on her legs. It seemed a shame--one of those crude, spectacular shames which make the blood boil--that the gallant63, defenceless creature should be so maltreated by the bully64, destiny.
"Oh, Sophia!" Constance moaned. "What trouble is this?"
Sophia's lip curled with a disgusted air. Under that she hid her suffering.
She had not seen him for thirty-six years. He must be over seventy years of age, and he had turned up again like a bad penny, doubtless a disgrace! What had he been doing in those thirty-six years? He was an old, enfeebled man now! He must be a pretty sight! And he lay at Manchester, not two hours away!
Whatever feelings were in Sophia's heart, tenderness was not among them. As she collected her wits from the stroke, she was principally aware of the sentiment of fear. She recoiled65 from the future.
"What shall you do?" Constance asked. Constance was weeping.
Sophia tapped her foot, glancing out of the window.
"Shall you go to see him?" Constance continued.
"Of course," said Sophia. "I must!"
She hated the thought of going to see him. She flinched66 from it. She felt herself under no moral obligation to go. Why should she go? Gerald was nothing to her, and had no claim on her of any kind. This she honestly believed. And yet she knew that she must go to him. She knew it to be impossible that she should not go.
"Now?" demanded Constance.
Sophia nodded.
"What about the trains? ... Oh, you poor dear!" The mere idea of the journey to Manchester put Constance out of her wits, seeming a business of unparalleled complexity67 and difficulty.
"Would you like me to come with you?"
"Oh no! I must go by myself."
Constance was relieved by this. They could not have left the servant in the house alone, and the idea of shutting up the house without notice or preparation presented itself to Constance as too fantastic.
By a common instinct they both descended68 to the parlour.
"Now, what about a time-table? What about a time-table?" Constance mumbled69 on the stairs. She wiped her eyes resolutely70. "I wonder whatever in this world has brought him at last to that Mr. Boldero's in Deansgate?" she asked the walls.
As they came into the parlour, a great motor-car drove up before the door, and when the pulsations of its engine had died away, Dick Povey hobbled from the driver's seat to the pavement. In an instant he was hammering at the door in his lively style. There was no avoiding him. The door had to be opened. Sophia opened it. Dick Povey was over forty, but he looked considerably71 younger. Despite his lameness72, and the fact that his lameness tended to induce corpulence, he had a dashing air, and his face, with its short, light moustache, was boyish. He seemed to be always upon some joyous73 adventure.
"Well, aunties," he greeted the sisters, having perceived Constance behind Sophia; he often so addressed them. "Has Dr. Stirling warned you that I was coming? Why haven't you got your things on?"
Sophia observed a young woman in the car.
"Yes," said he, following her gaze, "you may as well look. Come down, miss. Come down, Lily. You've got to go through with it." The young woman, delicately confused and blushing, obeyed. "This is Miss Lily Holl," he went on. "I don't know whether you would remember her. I don't think you do. It's not often she comes to the Square. But, of course, she knows you by sight. Granddaughter of your old neighbour, Alderman Holl! We are engaged to be married, if you please."
Constance and Sophia could not decently pour out their griefs on the top of such news. The betrothed74 pair had to come in and be congratulated upon their entry into the large realms of mutual75 love. But the sisters, even in their painful quandary76, could not help noticing what a nice, quiet, ladylike girl Lily Holl was. Her one fault appeared to be that she was too quiet. Dick Povey was not the man to pass time in formalities, and he was soon urging departure.
"I'm sorry we can't come," said Sophia. "I've got to go to Manchester now. We are in great trouble."
"Yes, in great trouble," Constance weakly echoed.
Dick's face clouded sympathetically. And both the affianced began to see that to which the egotism of their happiness had blinded them. They felt that long, long years had elapsed since these ageing ladies had experienced the delights which they were feeling.
"Trouble? I'm sorry to hear that!" said Dick.
"Can you tell me the trains to Manchester?" asked Sophia.
"No," said Dick, quickly, "But I can drive you there quicker than any train, if it's urgent. Where do you want to go to?"
"Deansgate," Sophia faltered77.
"Look here," said Dick, "it's half-past three. Put yourself in my hands; I'll guarantee at Deansgate you shall be before half-past five. I'll look after you."
"But----"
"There isn't any 'but.' I'm quite free for the afternoon and evening."
At first the suggestion seemed absurd, especially to Constance. But really it was too tempting78 to be declined. While Sophia made ready for the journey, Dick and Lily Holl and Constance conversed79 in low, solemn tones. The pair were waiting to be enlightened as to the nature of the trouble; Constance, however, did not enlighten them. How could Constance say to them: "Sophia has a husband that she hasn't seen for thirty-six years, and he's dangerously ill, and they've telegraphed for her to go?" Constance could not. It did not even occur to Constance to order a cup of tea.
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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provinciality
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| n.乡下习气，粗鄙；偏狭 | |
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yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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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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tartly
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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prescription
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| n.处方，开药；指示，规定 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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captiousness
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| 吹毛求疵的 | |
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permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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lamed
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| 希伯莱语第十二个字母 | |
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hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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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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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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effulgent
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| adj.光辉的；灿烂的 | |
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federation
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| n.同盟，联邦，联合，联盟，联合会 | |
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extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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aggrandizement
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| n.增大，强化，扩大 | |
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retail
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| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
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decadence
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| n.衰落，颓废 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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ailments
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| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
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vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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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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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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afflictive
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| 带给人痛苦的，苦恼的，难受的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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lameness
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| n. 跛, 瘸, 残废 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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quandary
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| n.困惑，进迟两难之境 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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