Margaret had often wondered at the disturbance1 that takes place in the world's waters, when Love, who seems so tiny a pebble2, slips in. Whom does Love concern beyond the beloved and the lover? Yet his impact deluges3 a hundred shores. No doubt the disturbance is really the spirit of the generations, welcoming the new generation, and chafing4 against the ultimate Fate, who holds all the seas in the palm of her hand. But Love cannot understand this. He cannot comprehend another's infinity5; he is conscious only of his own--flying sunbeam, falling rose, pebble that asks for one quiet plunge6 below the fretting7 interplay of space and time. He knows that he will survive at the end of things, and be gathered by Fate as a jewel from the slime, and be handed with admiration8 round the assembly of the gods. "Men did produce this," they will say, and, saying, they will give men immortality9. But meanwhile--what agitations10 meanwhile! The foundations of Property and Propriety11 are laid bare, twin rocks; Family Pride flounders to the surface, puffing12 and blowing, and refusing to be comforted; Theology, vaguely13 ascetic14, gets up a nasty ground swell15. Then the lawyers are aroused--cold brood--and creep out of their holes. They do what they can; they tidy up Property and Propriety, reassure16 Theology and Family Pride. Half-guineas are poured on the troubled waters, the lawyers creep back, and, if all has gone well, Love joins one man and woman together in Matrimony.
Margaret had expected the disturbance, and was not irritated by it. For a sensitive woman she had steady nerves, and could bear with the incongruous and the grotesque17; and, besides, there was nothing excessive about her love-affair. Good-humour was the dominant18 note of her relations with Mr. Wilcox, or, as I must now call him, Henry. Henry did not encourage romance, and she was no girl to fidget for it. An acquaintance had become a lover, might become a husband, but would retain all that she had noted19 in the acquaintance; and love must confirm an old relation rather than reveal a new one.
In this spirit she promised to marry him.
He was in Swanage on the morrow, bearing the engagement-ring. They greeted one another with a hearty20 cordiality that impressed Aunt Juley. Henry dined at The Bays, but he had engaged a bedroom in the principal hotel: he was one of those men who knew the principal hotel by instinct. After dinner he asked Margaret if she wouldn't care for a turn on the Parade. She accepted, and could not repress a little tremor21; it would be her first real love scene. But as she put on her hat she burst out laughing. Love was so unlike the article served up in books: the joy, though genuine, was different; the mystery an unexpected mystery. For one thing, Mr. Wilcox still seemed a stranger.
For a time they talked about the ring; then she said:
"Do you remember the Embankment at Chelsea? It can't be ten days ago."
"Yes," he said, laughing. "And you and your sister were head and ears deep in some Quixotic scheme. Ah well!"
"I little thought then, certainly. Did you?"
"I don't know about that; I shouldn't like to say."
"Why, was it earlier?" she cried. "Did you think of me this way earlier! How extraordinarily22 interesting, Henry! Tell me."
But Henry had no intention of telling. Perhaps he could not have told, for his mental states became obscure as soon as he had passed through them. He misliked the very word "interesting," connoting it with wasted energy and even with morbidity23. Hard facts were enough for him.
"I didn't think of it," she pursued. "No; when you spoke24 to me in the drawing-room, that was practically the first. It was all so different from what it's supposed to be. On the stage, or in books, a proposal is--how shall I put it? --a full-blown affair, a kind of bouquet25; it loses its literal meaning. But in life a proposal really is a proposal--"
"By the way--"
"--a suggestion, a seed," she concluded; and the thought flew away into darkness.
"I was thinking, if you didn't mind, that we ought to spend this evening in a business talk; there will be so much to settle."
"I think so too. Tell me, in the first place, how did you get on with Tibby?"
"With your brother?"
"Yes, during cigarettes."
"Oh, very well."
"I am so glad," she answered, a little surprised. "What did you talk about? Me, presumably."
"About Greece too."
"Greece was a very good card, Henry. Tibby's only a boy still, and one has to pick and choose subjects a little. Well done."
"I was telling him I have shares in a currant-farm near Calamata.
"What a delightful26 thing to have shares in! Can't we go there for our honeymoon27?"
"What to do?"
"To eat the currants. And isn't there marvellous scenery?"
"Moderately, but it's not the kind of place one could possibly go to with a lady."
"Why not?"
"No hotels."
"Some ladies do without hotels. Are you aware that Helen and I have walked alone over the Apennines, with our luggage on our backs?"
"I wasn't aware, and, if I can manage it, you will never do such a thing again."
She said more gravely: "You haven't found time for a talk with Helen yet, I suppose?"
"No."
"Do, before you go. I am so anxious you two should be friends."
"Your sister and I have always hit it off," he said negligently28. "But we're drifting away from our business. Let me begin at the beginning. You know that Evie is going to marry Percy Cahill."
"Dolly's uncle."
"Exactly. The girl's madly in love with him. A very good sort of fellow, but he demands--and rightly--a suitable provision with her. And in the second place, you will naturally understand, there is Charles. Before leaving town, I wrote Charles a very careful letter. You see, he has an increasing family and increasing expenses, and the I. and W. A. is nothing particular just now, though capable of development.
"Poor fellow!" murmured Margaret, looking out to sea, and not understanding.
"Charles being the elder son, some day Charles will have Howards End; but I am anxious, in my own happiness, not to be unjust to others."
"Of course not," she began, and then gave a little cry. "You mean money. How stupid I am! Of course not!"
Oddly enough, he winced29 a little at the word. "Yes. Money, since you put it so frankly30. I am determined31 to be just to all--just to you, just to them. I am determined that my children shall have no case against me."
"Be generous to them," she said sharply. "Bother justice!"
"I am determined--and have already written to Charles to that effect--"
"But how much have you got?"
"What?"
"How much have you a year? I've six hundred."
"My income?"
"Yes. We must begin with how much you have, before we can settle how much you can give Charles. Justice, and even generosity32, depend on that."
"I must say you're a downright young woman," he observed, patting her arm and laughing a little. "What a question to spring on a fellow!"
"Don't you know your income? Or don't you want to tell it me?"
"I--"
"That's all right"--now she patted him--"don't tell me. I don't want to know. I can do the sum just as well by proportion. Divide your income into ten parts. How many parts would you give to Evie, how many to Charles, how many to Paul?"
"The fact is, my dear, I hadn't any intention of bothering you with details. I only wanted to let you know that--well, that something must be done for the others, and you've understood me perfectly33, so let's pass on to the next point."
"Yes, we've settled that," said Margaret, undisturbed by his strategic blunderings. "Go ahead; give away all you can, bearing in mind I've a clear six hundred. What a mercy it is to have all this money about one!"
"We've none too much, I assure you; you're marrying a poor man.
"Helen wouldn't agree with me here," she continued. "Helen daren't slang the rich, being rich herself, but she would like to. There's an odd notion, that I haven't yet got hold of, running about at the back of her brain, that poverty is somehow 'real.' She dislikes all organization, and probably confuses wealth with the technique of wealth. Sovereigns in a stocking wouldn't bother her; cheques do. Helen is too relentless34. One can't deal in her high-handed manner with the world."
"There's this other point, and then I must go back to my hotel and write some letters. What's to be done now about the house in Ducie Street?"
"Keep it on--at least, it depends. When do you want to marry me?"
She raised her voice, as too often, and some youths, who were also taking the evening air, overheard her. "Getting a bit hot, eh?" said one. Mr. Wilcox turned on them, and said sharply, "I say!" There was silence. "Take care I don't report you to the police." They moved away quietly enough, but were only biding35 their time, and the rest of the conversation was punctuated36 by peals37 of ungovernable laughter.
Lowering his voice and infusing a hint of reproof38 into it, he said: "Evie will probably be married in September. We could scarcely think of anything before then."
"The earlier the nicer, Henry. Females are not supposed to say such things, but the earlier the nicer."
"How about September for us too?" he asked, rather dryly.
"Right. Shall we go into Ducie Street ourselves in September? Or shall we try to bounce Helen and Tibby into it? That's rather an idea. They are so unbusinesslike, we could make them do anything by judicious39 management. Look here--yes. We'll do that. And we ourselves could live at Howards End or Shropshire."
He blew out his cheeks. "Heavens! how you women do fly round! My head's in a whirl. Point by point, Margaret. Howards End's impossible. I let it to Hamar Bryce on a three years' agreement last March. Don't you remember? Oniton. Well, that is much, much too far away to rely on entirely40. You will be able to be down there entertaining a certain amount, but we must have a house within easy reach of Town. Only Ducie Street has huge drawbacks. There's a mews behind."
Margaret could not help laughing. It was the first she had heard of the mews behind Ducie Street. When she was a possible tenant41 it had suppressed itself, not consciously, but automatically. The breezy Wilcox manner, though genuine, lacked the clearness of vision that is imperative42 for truth. When Henry lived in Ducie Street he remembered the mews; when he tried to let he forgot it; and if anyone had remarked that the mews must be either there or not, he would have felt annoyed, and afterwards have found some opportunity of stigmatizing43 the speaker as academic. So does my grocer stigmatize44 me when I complain of the quality of his sultanas, and he answers in one breath that they are the best sultanas, and how can I expect the best sultanas at that price? It is a flaw inherent in the business mind, and Margaret may do well to be tender to it, considering all that the business mind has done for England.
"Yes, in summer especially, the mews is a serious nuisance. The smoking room, too, is an abominable45 little den46. The house opposite has been taken by operatic people. Ducie Street's going down, it's my private opinion."
"How sad! It's only a few years since they built those pretty houses."
"Shows things are moving. Good for trade."
"I hate this continual flux47 of London. It is an epitome48 of us at our worst--eternal formlessness; all the qualities, good, bad, and indifferent, streaming away--streaming, streaming for ever. That's why I dread49 it so. I mistrust rivers, even in scenery. Now, the sea--"
"High tide, yes."
"Hoy toid"--from the promenading50 youths.
"And these are the men to whom we give the vote," observed Mr. Wilcox, omitting to add that they were also the men to whom he gave work as clerks--work that scarcely encouraged them to grow into other men. "However, they have their own lives and interests. Let's get on."
He turned as he spoke, and prepared to see her back to The Bays. The business was over. His hotel was in the opposite direction, and if he accompanied her his letters would be late for the post. She implored51 him not to come, but he was obdurate52.
"A nice beginning, if your aunt saw you slip in alone!"
"But I always do go about alone. Considering I've walked over the Apennines, it's common sense. You will make me so angry. I don't the least take it as a compliment."
He laughed, and lit a cigar. "It isn't meant as a compliment, my dear. I just won't have you going about in the dark. Such people about too! It's dangerous. "
"Can't I look after myself? I do wish--"
"Come along, Margaret; no wheedling53."
A younger woman might have resented his masterly ways, but Margaret had too firm a grip of life to make a fuss. She was, in her own way, as masterly. If he was a fortress54 she was a mountain peak, whom all might tread, but whom the snows made nightly virginal. Disdaining55 the heroic outfit56, excitable in her methods, garrulous57, episodical, shrill58, she misled her lover much as she had misled her aunt. He mistook her fertility for weakness. He supposed her "as clever as they make 'em," but no more, not realizing that she was penetrating59 to the depths of his soul, and approving of what she found there.
And if insight were sufficient, if the inner life were the whole of life, their happiness has been assured.
They walked ahead briskly. The parade and the road after it were well lighted, but it was darker in Aunt Juley's garden. As they were going up by the side-paths, through some rhododendrons, Mr. Wilcox, who was in front, said "Margaret" rather huskily, turned, dropped his cigar, and took her in his arms.
She was startled, and nearly screamed, but recovered herself at once, and kissed with genuine love the lips that were pressed against her own. It was their first kiss, and when it was over he saw her safely to the door and rang the bell for her, but disappeared into the night before the maid answered it. On looking back, the incident displeased60 her. It was so isolated61. Nothing in their previous conversation had heralded62 it, and, worse still, no tenderness had ensued. If a man cannot lead up to passion he can at all events lead down from it, and she had hoped, after her complaisance63, for some interchange of gentle words. But he had hurried away as if ashamed, and for an instant she was reminded of Helen and Paul.
收听单词发音 |
1
disturbance
|
|
| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
pebble
|
|
| n.卵石，小圆石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
deluges
|
|
| v.使淹没( deluge的第三人称单数 )；淹没；被洪水般涌来的事物所淹没；穷于应付 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
4
chafing
|
|
| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
infinity
|
|
| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
fretting
|
|
| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
immortality
|
|
| n.不死，不朽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
agitations
|
|
| （液体等的）摇动( agitation的名词复数 )； 鼓动； 激烈争论； （情绪等的）纷乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
propriety
|
|
| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
puffing
|
|
| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
ascetic
|
|
| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
swell
|
|
| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
reassure
|
|
| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
grotesque
|
|
| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
dominant
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
tremor
|
|
| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
extraordinarily
|
|
| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
morbidity
|
|
| n.病态；不健全；发病；发病率 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
bouquet
|
|
| n.花束，酒香 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
honeymoon
|
|
| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
negligently
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
winced
|
|
| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
generosity
|
|
| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
relentless
|
|
| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
biding
|
|
| v.等待，停留( bide的现在分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待；面临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
punctuated
|
|
| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
peals
|
|
| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
reproof
|
|
| n.斥责，责备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
judicious
|
|
| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
tenant
|
|
| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
imperative
|
|
| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
stigmatizing
|
|
| v.使受耻辱，指责，污辱( stigmatize的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
stigmatize
|
|
| v.污蔑，玷污 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
abominable
|
|
| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
den
|
|
| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
flux
|
|
| n.流动；不断的改变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
epitome
|
|
| n.典型，梗概 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
promenading
|
|
| v.兜风( promenade的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
implored
|
|
| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
obdurate
|
|
| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
wheedling
|
|
| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
fortress
|
|
| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
disdaining
|
|
| 鄙视( disdain的现在分词 )； 不屑于做，不愿意做 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
56
outfit
|
|
| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
garrulous
|
|
| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
penetrating
|
|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
displeased
|
|
| a.不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
heralded
|
|
| v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
complaisance
|
|
| n.彬彬有礼，殷勤，柔顺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |