When, on a June afternoon about twelve months later, Lily Holl walked into Mrs. Povey's drawing-room overlooking the Square, she found a calm, somewhat optimistic old lady--older than her years-- which were little more than sixty--whose chief enemies were sciatica and rheumatism1. The sciatica was a dear enemy of long standing2, always affectionately referred to by the forgiving Constance as 'my sciatica'; the rheumatism was a new-comer, unprivileged, spoken of by its victim apprehensively4 and yet disdainfully as 'this rheumatism.' Constance was now very stout5. She sat in a low easy-chair between the oval table and the window, arrayed in black silk. As the girl Lily came in, Constance lifted her head with a bland6 smile, and Lily kissed her, contentedly7. Lily knew that she was a welcome visitor. These two had become as intimate as the difference between their ages would permit; of the two, Constance was the more frank. Lily as well as Constance was in mourning. A few months previously8 her aged9 grandfather, 'Holl, the grocer,' had died. The second of his two sons, Lily's father, had then left the business established by the brothers at Hanbridge in order to manage, for a time, the parent business in St. Luke's Square. Alderman Holl's death had delayed Lily's marriage. Lily took tea with Constance, or at any rate paid a call, four or five times a week. She listened to Constance.
Everybody considered that Constance had 'come splendidly through' the dreadful affair of Sophia's death. Indeed, it was observed that she was more philosophic10, more cheerful, more sweet, than she had been for many years. The truth was that, though her bereavement11 had been the cause of a most genuine and durable12 sorrow, it had been a relief to her. When Constance was over fifty, the energetic and masterful Sophia had burst in upon her lethargic13 tranquillity14 and very seriously disturbed the flow of old habits. Certainly Constance had fought Sophia on the main point, and won; but on a hundred minor15 points she had either lost or had not fought. Sophia had been 'too much' for Constance, and it had been only by a wearying expenditure16 of nervous force that Constance had succeeded in holding a small part of her own against the unconscious domination of Sophia. The death of Mrs. Scales had put an end to all the strain, and Constance had been once again mistress in Constance's house. Constance would never have admitted these facts, even to herself; and no one would ever have dared to suggest them to her. For with all her temperamental mildness she had her formidable side.
She was slipping a photograph into a plush-covered photograph album.
"More photographs?" Lily questioned. She had almost exactly the same benignant smile that Constance had. She seemed to be the personification of gentleness--one of those feather-beds that some capricious men occasionally have the luck to marry. She was capable, with a touch of honest, simple stupidity. All her character was displayed in the tone in which she said: "More photographs?" It showed an eager responsive sympathy with Constance's cult17 for photographs, also a slight personal fondness for photographs, also a dim perception that a cult for photographs might be carried to the ridiculous, and a kind desire to hide all trace of this perception. The voice was thin, and matched the pale complexion18 of her delicate face.
Constance's eyes had a quizzical gleam behind her spectacles as she silently held up the photograph for Lily's inspection19.
Lily, sitting down, lowered the corners of her soft lips when she beheld20 the photograph, and nodded her head several times, scarce perceptibly.
"Her ladyship has just given it to me," whispered Constance.
"Indeed!" said Lily, with an extraordinary accent.
'Her ladyship' was the last and best of Constance's servants, a really excellent creature of thirty, who had known misfortune, and who must assuredly have been sent to Constance by the old watchful21 Providence22. They 'got on together' nearly perfectly23. Her name was Mary. After ten years of turmoil24, Constance in the matter of servants was now at rest.
"Yes," said Constance. "She's named it to me several times--about having her photograph taken, and last week I let her go. I told you, didn't I? I always consider her in every way, all her little fancies and everything. And the copies came to-day. I wouldn't hurt her feelings for anything. You may be sure she'll take a look into the album next time she cleans the room."
Constance and Lily exchanged a glance agreeing that Constance had affably stretched a point in deciding to put the photograph of a servant between the same covers with photographs of her family and friends. It was doubtful whether such a thing had ever been done before.
One photograph usually leads to another, and one photograph album to another photograph album.
"Pass me that album on the second shelf of the Canterbury; my dear," said Constance.
Lily rose vivaciously25, as though to see the album on the second shelf of the Canterbury had been the ambition of her life.
They sat side by side at the table, Lily turning over the pages. Constance, for all her vast bulk, continually made little nervous movements. Occasionally she would sniff26 and occasionally a mysterious noise would occur in her chest; she always pretended that this noise was a cough, and would support the pretence27 by emitting a real cough immediately after it.
"Why!" exclaimed Lily. "Have I seen that before?" "I don't know, my dear," said Constance. "HAVE you?"
It was a photograph of Sophia taken a few years previously by 'a very nice gentleman,' whose acquaintance the sisters had made during a holiday at Harrogate. It portrayed28 Sophia on a knoll29, fronting the weather.
"It's Mrs. Scales to the life--I can see that," said Lily.
"Yes," said Constance. "Whenever there was a wind she always stood like that, and took long deep breaths of it."
This recollection of one of Sophia's habits recalled the whole woman to Constance's memory, and drew a picture of her character for the girl who had scarcely known her.
"It's not like ordinary photographs. There's something special about it," said Lily, enthusiastically. "I don't think I ever saw a photograph like that."
"I've got another copy of it in my bedroom," said Constance. "I'll give you this one."
"Oh, Mrs. Povey! I couldn't think--!"
"Yes, yes!" said Constance, removing the photograph from the page.
"Oh, THANK you!" said Lily.
"And that reminds me," said Constance, getting up with great difficulty from her chair.
"Can I find anything for you?" Lily asked.
"No, no!" said Constance, leaving the room.
She returned in a moment with her jewel-box, a receptacle of ebony with ivory ornamentations.
"I've always meant to give you this," said Constance, taking from the box a fine cameo brooch. "I don't seem to fancy wearing it myself. And I should like to see you wearing it. It was mother's. I believe they're coming into fashion again. I don't see why you shouldn't wear it while you're in mourning. They aren't half so strict now about mourning as they used to be."
"Truly!" murmured Lily, ecstatically. They kissed. Constance seemed to breathe out benevolence30, as with trembling hands she pinned the brooch at Lily's neck. She lavished31 the warm treasure of her heart on Lily, whom she regarded as an almost perfect girl, and who had become the idol32 of her latter years.
"What a magnificent old watch!" said Lily, as they delved33 together in the lower recesses34 of the box. "AND the chain to it!"
"That was father's," said Constance. "He always used to swear by it. When it didn't agree with the Town Hall, he used to say: 'Then th' Town Hall's wrong.' And it's curious, the Town Hall WAS wrong. You know the Town Hall clock has never been a good timekeeper. I've been thinking of giving that watch and chain to Dick."
"HAVE you?" said Lily.
"Yes. It's just as good as it was when father wore it. My husband never would wear it. He preferred his own. He had little fancies like that. And Cyril takes after his father." She spoke3 in her 'dry' tone. "I've almost decided35 to give it to Dick--that is, if he behaves himself. Is he still on with this ballooning?"
Lily Smiled guiltily: "Oh yes!"
"Well," said Constance, "I never heard the like! If he's been up and come down safely, that ought to be enough for him. I wonder you let him do it, my dear."
"But how can I stop him? I've no control over him."
"But do you mean to say that he'd still do it if you told him seriously you didn't want him to?"
"Yes," said Lily; and added: "So I shan't tell him."
Constance nodded her head, musing36 over the secret nature of men. She remembered too well the cruel obstinacy37 of Samuel, who had nevertheless loved her. And Dick Povey was a thousand times more bizarre than Samuel. She saw him vividly38, a little boy, whizzing down King Street on a boneshaker, and his cap flying off. Afterwards it had been motor-cars! Now it was balloons! She sighed. She was struck by the profound instinctive39 wisdom just enunciated40 by the girl.
"Well," she said, "I shall see. I've not made up my mind yet. What's the young man doing this afternoon, by the way?"
"He's gone to Birmingham to try to sell two motor-lorries. He won't be back home till late. He's coming over here to-morrow."
It was an excellent illustration of Dick Povey's methods that at this very moment Lily heard in the Square the sound of a motor- car, which happened to be Dick's car. She sprang up to look.
"Why!" she cried, flushing. "Here he is now!"
"Bless us, bless us!" muttered Constance, closing the box.
When Dick, having left his car in King Street, limped tempestuously41 into the drawing-room, galvanizing it by his abundant vitality42 into a new life, he cried joyously43: "Sold my lorries! Sold my lorries!" And he explained that by a charming accident he had disposed of them to a chance buyer in Hanbridge, just before starting for Birmingham. So he had telephoned to Birmingham that the matter was 'off,' and then, being 'at a loose end,' he had come over to Bursley in search of his betrothed44. At Holl's shop they had told him that she was with Mrs. Povey. Constance glanced at him, impressed by his jolly air of success. He seemed exactly like his breezy and self-confident advertisements in the Signal. He was absolutely pleased with himself. He triumphed over his limp--that ever-present reminder45 of a tragedy. Who would dream, to look at his blond, laughing, scintillating46 face, astonishingly young for his years, that he had once passed through such a night as that on which his father had killed his mother while he lay immovable and cursing, with a broken knee, in bed? Constance had heard all about that scene from her husband, and she paused in wonder at the contrasting hazards of existence.
Dick Povey brought his hands together with a resounding47 smack48, and then rubbed them rapidly.
"AND a good price, too!" he exclaimed blithely49. "Mrs. Povey, I don't mind telling you that I've netted seventy pounds odd this afternoon."
Lily's eyes expressed her proud joy.
"I hope pride won't have a fall," said Constance, with a calm smile out of which peeped a hint of a rebuke50. "That's what I hope. I must just go and see about tea."
"I can't stay for tea--really," said Dick.
"Of course you can," said Constance, positively51. "Suppose you'd been at Birmingham? It's weeks since you stayed to tea."
"Oh, well, thanks!" Dick yielded, rather snubbed.
"Can't I save you a journey, Mrs. Povey?" Lily asked, eagerly thoughtful.
"No, thank you, my dear. There are one or two little things that need my attention." And Constance departed with her jewel-box.
Dick, having assured himself that the door was closed, assaulted Lily with a kiss.
"Been here long?" he inquired.
"About an hour and a half."
"Glad to see me?"
"Oh, Dick!" she protested.
"Old lady's in one of her humours, eh?"
"No, no! Only she was just talking about balloons--you know. She's very much up in arms."
"You ought to keep her off balloons. Balloons may be the ruin of her wedding-present to us, my child."
"Dick! How can you talk like that? ... It's all very well saying I ought to keep her off balloons. You try to keep her off balloons when once she begins, and see!"
"What started her?"
"She said she was thinking of giving you old Mr. Baines's gold watch and chain--if you behaved yourself."
"Thank you for nothing!" said Dick. "I don't want it."
"Have you seen it?"
"Have I seen it? I should say I had seen it. She's mentioned it once or twice before."
"Oh! I didn't know."
"I don't see myself carting that thing about. I much prefer my own. What do you think of it?"
"Of course it is rather clumsy," said Lily. "But if she offered it to you, you couldn't refuse it, and you'd simply have to wear it."
"Well, then," said Dick, "I must try to behave myself just badly enough to keep off the watch, but not badly enough to upset her notions about wedding-presents."
"Poor old thing!" Lily murmured, compassionately52.
Then Lily put her hand silently to her neck.
"What's that?"
"She's just given it to me."
Dick approached very near to examine the cameo brooch. "Hm!" he murmured. It was an adverse53 verdict. And Lily coincided with it by a lift of the eyebrows54.
"And I suppose you'll have to wear that!" said Dick.
"She values it as much as anything she's got, poor old thing!" said Lily. "It belonged to her mother. And she says cameos are coming into fashion again. It really is rather good, you know."
"I wonder where she learnt that!" said Dick, drily. "I see you've been suffering from the photographs again."
"Well," said Lily, "I much prefer the photographs to helping55 her to play Patience. The way she cheats herself--it's too silly! I--"
She stopped. The door which had after all not been latched56, was pushed open, and the antique Fossette introduced herself painfully into the room. Fossette had an affection for Dick Povey.
"Well, Methusaleh!" he greeted the animal loudly. She could scarcely wag her tail, nor shake the hair out of her dim eyes in order to look up at him. He stooped to pat her.
"That dog does smell," said Lily, bluntly.
"What do you expect? What she wants is the least dose of prussic acid. She's a burden to herself."
"It's funny that if you venture to hint to Mrs. Povey that the dog is offensive she gets quite peppery," said Lily.
"Well, that's very simple," said Dick. "Don't hint, that's all! Hold your nose and your tongue too."
"Dick, I do wish you wouldn't be so absurd."
Constance returned into the room, cutting short the conversation.
"Mrs. Povey," said Dick, in a voice full of gratitude57, "Lily has just been showing me her brooch--"
He noticed that she paid no heed58 to him, but passed hurriedly to the window.
"What's amiss in the Square?" Constance exclaimed. "When I was in the parlour just now I saw a man running along Wedgwood Street, and I said to myself, what's amiss?"
Dick and Lily joined her at the window.
Several people were hurrying down the Square, and then a man came running with a doctor from the market-place. All these persons disappeared from view under the window of Mrs. Povey's drawing- room, which was over part of Mrs. Critchlow's shop. As the windows of the shop projected beyond the walls of the house it was impossible, from the drawing-room window, to see the pavement in front of the shop.
"It must be something on the pavement--or in the shop!" murmured Constance.
"Oh, ma'am!" said a startled voice behind the three. It was Mary, original of the photograph, who had run unperceived into the drawing-room. "They say as Mrs. Critchlow has tried to commit suicide!"
Constance started back. Lily went towards her, with an instinctive gesture of supporting consolation59.
"Maria Critchlow tried to commit suicide!" Constance muttered.
"Yes, ma'am! But they say she's not done it."
"By Jove! I'd better go and see if I can help, hadn't I?" cried Dick Povey, hobbling off, excited and speedy. "Strange, isn't it?" he exclaimed afterwards, "how I manage to come in for things? Sheer chance that I was here to-day! But it's always like that! Somehow something extraordinary is always happening where I am." And this too ministered to his satisfaction, and to his zest60 for life.
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rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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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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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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apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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bereavement
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| n.亲人丧亡，丧失亲人，丧亲之痛 | |
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durable
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| adj.持久的，耐久的 | |
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lethargic
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| adj.昏睡的，懒洋洋的 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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cult
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| n.异教，邪教；时尚，狂热的崇拜 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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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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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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vivaciously
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| adv.快活地；活泼地；愉快地 | |
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sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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portrayed
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| v.画像( portray的过去式和过去分词 )；描述；描绘；描画 | |
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knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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delved
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| v.深入探究，钻研( delve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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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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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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enunciated
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| v.（清晰地）发音( enunciate的过去式和过去分词 )；确切地说明 | |
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tempestuously
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| adv.剧烈地，暴风雨似地 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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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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reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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scintillating
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| adj．才气横溢的,闪闪发光的; 闪烁的 | |
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resounding
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| adj. 响亮的 | |
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smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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blithely
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| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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compassionately
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| adv.表示怜悯地，有同情心地 | |
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adverse
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| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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latched
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| v.理解( latch的过去式和过去分词 )；纠缠；用碰锁锁上（门等）；附着（在某物上） | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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