So, for the moment, he dismissed the subject from his mind. With Hortensia he entered the parlor2 across the stone-flagged passage, to which the landlady3 ushered4 them, and turned whole-heartedly to the matter of his ward5's elopement with his son.
“Hortensia,” said he, when they were alone. “You have been foolish; very foolish.” He had a trick of repeating himself, conceiving, no doubt, that the commonplace achieves distinction by repetition.
Hortensia sat in an arm-chair by the window, and sighed, looking out over the downs. “Do I not know it?” she cried, and the eyes which were averted6 from his lordship were charred7 with tears—tears of hot anger, shame and mortification8. “God help all women!” she added bitterly, after a moment, as many another woman under similar and worse circumstances has cried before and since.
A more feeling man might have conceived that this was a moment in which to leave her to herself and her own thoughts, and in that it is possible that a more feeling man had been mistaken. Ostermore, stolid9 and unimaginative, but not altogether without sympathy for his ward, of whom he was reasonably fond—as fond, no doubt, as it was his capacity to be for any other than himself—approached her and set a plump hand upon the back of her chair.
“What was it drove you to this?”
She turned upon him almost fiercely. “My Lady Ostermore,” she answered him.
His lordship frowned, and his eyes shifted uneasily from her face. In his heart he disliked his wife excessively, disliked her because she was the one person in the world who governed him, who rode rough-shod over his feelings and desires; because, perhaps, she was the mother of his unfeeling, detestable son. She may not have been the only person living to despise Lord Ostermore; but she was certainly the only one with the courage to manifest her contempt, and that in no circumscribed10 terms. And yet, disliking her as he did, returning with interest her contempt of him, he veiled it, and was loyal to his termagant, never suffering himself to utter a complaint of her to others, never suffering others to censure11 her within his hearing. This loyalty12 may have had its roots in pride—indeed, no other soil can be assigned to them—a pride that would allow no strangers to pry13 into the sore places of his being. He frowned now to hear Hortensia's angry mention of her ladyship's name; and if his blue eyes moved uneasily under his beetling14 brows, it was because the situation irked him. How should he stand as judge between Mistress Winthrop—towards whom, as we have seen, he had a kindness—and his wife, whom he hated, yet towards whom he would not be disloyal?
He wished the subject dropped, since, did he ask the obvious question—in what my Lady Ostermore could have been the cause of Hortensia's flight—he would provoke, he knew, a storm of censure from his wife. Therefore he fell silent.
Hortensia, however, felt that she had said too much not to say more.
“Her ladyship has never failed to make me feel my position—my—my poverty,” she pursued. “There is no slight her ladyship has not put upon me, until not even your servants use me with the respect that is due to my father's daughter. And my father,” she added, with a reproachful glance, “was your friend, my lord.”
He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, deploring15 now the question with which he had fired the train of feminine complaint. “Pish, pish!” he deprecated, “'tis fancy, child—pure fancy!”
“So her Ladyship would say, did you tax her with it. Yet your lordship knows I am not fanciful in other things. Should I, then, be fanciful in this?”
“But what has her ladyship ever done, child?” he demanded, thinking thus to baffle her—since he was acquainted with the subtlety16 of her ladyship's methods.
“A thousand things,” replied Hortensia hotly, “and yet not one upon which I may fasten. 'Tis thus she works: by words, half-words, looks, sneers17, shrugs18, and sometimes foul19 abuse entirely20 disproportionate to the little cause I may unwittingly have given.”
“Her ladyship is a little hot,” the earl admitted, “but a good heart; 'tis an excellent heart, Hortensia.”
“For hating-ay, my lord.”
“Nay, plague on't! That's womanish in you. 'Pon honor it is! Womanish!”
“I'll not listen to you,” he said. “Ye're not just, Hortensia. Ye're heated; heated! I'll not listen to you. Besides, when all is said, what reasons be these for the folly22 ye've committed?”
“Reasons?” she echoed scornfully. “Reasons and to spare! Her ladyship has made my life so hard, has so shamed and crushed me, put such indignities23 upon me, that existence grew unbearable24 under your roof. It could not continue, my lord,” she pursued, rising under the sway of her indignation. “It could not continue. I am not of the stuff that goes to making martyrs25. I am weak, and—and—as your lordship has said—womanish.”
“Lord Rotherby,” she continued, “offered me the means to escape. He urged me to elope with him. His reason was that you would never consent to our marriage; but that if we took the matter into our hands, and were married first, we might depend upon your sanction afterwards; that you had too great a kindness for me to withhold29 your pardon. I was weak, my lord—womanish,” (she threw the word at him again) “and it happened—God help me for a fool!—that I thought I loved Lord Rotherby. And so—and so—”
She sat down again, weakly, miserably30, averting31 her face that she might hide her tears. He was touched, and he even went so far as to show something of his sympathy. He approached her again, and laid a benign32 hand lightly upon her shoulder.
“Does your lordship not perceive? Must I die of shame? Do you not see?”
“See? No!” He was thoughtful a second; then repeated, “No!”
“I understood,” she informed him, a smile—a cruelly bitter smile—lifting and steadying the corner of her lately quivering lip, “when he alluded34 to your lordship's straitened circumstances. He has no disinheritance to fear because he has no inheritance to look for beyond the entail35, of which you cannot disinherit him. My Lord Rotherby sets a high value upon himself. He may—I do not know—he may have been in love with me—though not as I know love, which is all sacrifice, all self-denial. But by his lights he may have cared for me; he must have done, by his lights. Had I been a lady of fortune, not a doubt but he would have made me his wife; as it was, he must aim at a more profitable marriage, and meanwhile, to gratify his love for me—base as it was—he would—he would—O God! I cannot say it. You understand, my lord.”
My lord swore strenuously36. “There is a punishment for such a crime as this.”
“Ay, my lord—and a way to avoid punishment for a gentleman in your son's position, even did I flaunt37 my shame in some vain endeavor to have justice—a thing he knew I never could have done.”
My lord swore again. “He shall be punished,” he declared emphatically.
“No doubt. God will see to that,” she said, a world of faith in her quivering voice.
My lord's eyes expressed his doubt of divine intervention38. He preferred to speak for himself. “I'll disown the dog. He shall not enter my house again. You shall not be reminded of what has happened here. Gad39! You were shrewd to have smoked his motives40 so!” he cried in a burst of admiration41 for her insight. “Gad, child! Shouldst have been a lawyer! A lawyer!”
“If it had not been for Mr. Caryll—” she began, but to what else she said he lent no ear, being suddenly brought back to his fears at the mention of that gentleman's name.
“Mr. Caryll! Save us! What is keeping him?” he cried. “Can they—can they—”
The door opened, and Mr. Caryll walked in, ushered by the hostess. Both turned to confront him, Hortensia's eyes swollen42 from her weeping.
“Well?” quoth his lordship. “Did they find nothing?”
Mr. Caryll advanced with the easy, graceful43 carriage that was one of his main charms, his clothes so skilfully44 restored by Leduc that none could have guessed the severity of the examination they had undergone.
“Since I am here, and alone, your lordship may conclude such to be the case. Mr. Green is preparing for departure. He is very abject45; very chap-fallen. I am almost sorry for Mr. Green. I am by nature sympathetic. I have promised to make my complaint to my Lord Carteret. And so, I trust there is an end to a tiresome46 matter.”
“But then, sir?” quoth his lordship. “But then—are you the bearer of no letter?”
Mr. Caryll shot a swift glance over his shoulder at the door. He deliberately47 winked48 at the earl. “Did your lordship expect letters?” he inquired. “That was scarcely reason enough to suppose me a courier. There is some mistake, I imagine.”
Mr. Caryll turned to the lady, bowing. Then he waved a hand over the downs. “A fine view,” said he airily, and she stared at him. “I shall treasure sweet memories of Maidstone.” Her stare grew stonier50. Did he mean the landscape or some other matter? His tone was difficult to read—a feature peculiar51 to his tone.
“Not so shall I, sir,” she made answer. “I shall never think of it other than with burning cheeks—unless it be with gratitude52 to your shrewdness which saved me.”
“No more, I beg. It is a matter painful to you to dwell on. Let me exhort53 you to forget it. I have already done so.”
“That is a sweet courtesy in you.”
“I am compounded of sweet courtesy,” he informed her modestly.
His lordship spoke54 of departure, renewing his offer to carry Mr. Caryll to town in his chaise. Meanwhile, Mr. Caryll was behaving curiously55. He was tiptoeing towards the door, along the wall, where he was out of line with the keyhole. He reached it suddenly, and abruptly56 pulled it open. There was a squeal57, and Mr. Green rolled forward into the room. Mr. Caryll kicked him out again before he could rise, and called Leduc to throw him outside. And that was the last they saw of Mr. Green at Maidstone.
They set out soon afterwards, Mr. Caryll travelling in his lordship's chaise, and Leduc following in his master's.
It was an hour or so after candle-lighting time when they reached Croydon, the country lying all white under a full moon that sailed in a clear, calm sky. His lordship swore that he would go no farther that night. The travelling fatigued58 him; indeed, for the last few miles of the journey he had been dozing59 in his corner of the carriage, conversation having long since been abandoned as too great an effort on so bad a road, which shook and jolted60 them beyond endurance. His lordship's chaise was of an old-fashioned pattern, and the springs far from what might have been desired or expected in a nobleman's conveyance61.
They alighted at the “Bells.” His lordship bespoke62 supper, invited Mr. Caryll to join them, and, what time the meal was preparing, went into a noisy doze63 in the parlor's best chair.
Mistress Winthrop sauntered out into the garden. The calm and fragrance64 of the night invited her. Alone with her thoughts, she paced the lawn a while, until her solitude65 was disturbed by the advent66 of Mr. Caryll. He, too, had need to think, and he had come out into the peace of the night to indulge his need. Seeing her, he made as if to withdraw again; but she perceived him, and called him to her side. He went most readily. Yet when he stood before her in an attitude of courteous67 deference68, she was at a loss what she should say to him, or, rather, what words she should employ. At last, with a half-laugh of nervousness, “I am by nature very inquisitive69, sir,” she prefaced.
“I had already judged you to be an exceptional woman,” Mr. Caryll commented softly.
“Is it worth while?” he counter-questioned, and, whether intent or accident, he let her see something of himself. “Is it even amusing—to be serious?”
“Is there in life nothing but amusement?”
“Oh, yes—but nothing so vital. I speak with knowledge. The gift of laughter has been my salvation71.”
“From what, sir?”
“Ah—who shall say that? My history and my rearing have been such that had I bowed before them, I had become the most gloomy, melancholy72 man that steps this gloomy, melancholy world. By now I might have found existence insupportable, and so—who knows? I might have set a term to it. But I had the wisdom to prefer laughter. Humanity is a delectable73 spectacle if we but have the gift to observe it in a dispassionate spirit. Such a gift have I cultivated. The squirming of the human worm is interesting to observe, and the practice of observing it has this advantage, that while we observe it we forget to squirm ourselves.”
He shrugged76 and smiled. “But proves my contention77. That I might explain myself, you made me for a moment serious, set me squirming in my turn.”
She moved a little, and he fell into step beside her. A little while there was silence.
Presently—“You find me, no doubt, as amusing as any other of your human worms,” said she.
“God forbid!” he answered soberly.
She laughed. “You make an exception in my case, then. That is a subtle flattery!”
“Have I not said that I had judged you to be an exceptional woman?”
“Exceptionally foolish, not a doubt.”
“Exceptionally beautiful; exceptionally admirable,” he corrected.
“That were an argument in favor of avoiding truth.”
“Were it necessary,” said he. “For truth is seldom so intrusive80 as to need avoiding. But we are straying. There was a score upon which you were inquisitive, you said; from which I take it that you sought knowledge at my hands. Pray seek it; I am a well, of knowledge.”
“I desired to know—Nay, but I have asked you already. I desired to know did you deem me a very pitiful little fool?”
They had reached the privet hedge, and turned. They paused now before resuming their walk. He paused, also, before replying. Then:
“I should judge you wise in most things,” he answered slowly, critically. “But in the matter to which I owe the blessing81 of having served you, I do not think you wise. Did you—do you love Lord Rotherby?”
“What if so?”
“After what you have learned, I should account you still less wise.”
“You are impertinent, sir,” she reproved him.
“Nay, most pertinent82. Did you not ask me to sit in judgment83 upon this matter? And unless you confess to me, how am I to absolve84 you?”
“So said Lord Rotherby. You seem to have something in common when all is said.”
She bit her lip in chagrin86. They paced in silence to the lawn's end, and turned again. Then: “You treat me like a fool,” she reproved him.
“How is that possible, when, already I think I love you.”
She started from him, and stared at him for a long moment. “You insult me!” she cried angrily, conceiving that she understood his mind. “Do you think that because I may have committed a folly I have forfeited87 all claim to be respected—that I am a subject for insolent88 speeches?”
“You are illogical,” said Mr. Caryll, the imperturbable89. “I have told you that I love you. Should I insult the woman I have said I love?”
“You love me?” She looked at him, her face very white in the white moonlight, her lips parted, a kindling90 anger in her eyes. “Are you mad?”
“I a'n't sure. There have been moments when I have almost feared it. This is not one of them.”
“You wish me to think you serious?” She laughed a thought stridently in her indignation. “I have known you just four hours,” said she.
“Precisely the time I think I have loved you.”
“You think?” she echoed scornfully. “Oh, you make that reservation! You are not quite sure?”
“Can we be sure of anything?” he deprecated.
“Of some things,” she answered icily. “And I am sure of one—that I am beginning to understand you.”
“I envy you. Since that is so, help me—of your charity!—to understand myself.”
“Then understand yourself for an impudent91, fleering coxcomb,” she flung at him, and turned to leave him.
“What else do you deserve?” she asked him over her shoulder. “That you should have dared!” she withered93 him.
“To love you quite so suddenly?” he inquired, and misquoted: “'Whoever loved at all, that loved not at first sight?' Hortensia!”
“You have not the right to my name, sir.”
“You shall be punished,” she promised him, and in high dudgeon left him.
“Punished? Oh, cruel! Can you then be—
“'Unsoft to him who's smooth to thee?
Tigers and bears, I've heard some say,
But she was gone. He looked up at the moon, and took it into his confidence to reproach it. “'Twas your white face beglamored me,” he told it aloud. “See, how execrable a beginning I've made, and, therefore, how excellent!” And he laughed, but entirely without mirth.
He remained pacing in the moonlight, very thoughtful, and, for once, it seemed, not at all amused. His life appeared to be tangling96 itself beyond unravelling97, and his vaunted habit of laughter scarce served at present to show him the way out.
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1
tormenting
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| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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circumscribed
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| adj.[医]局限的：受限制或限于有限空间的v.在…周围划线( circumscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；划定…范围；限制；限定 | |
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censure
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| v./n.责备；非难；责难 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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beetling
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| adj.突出的，悬垂的v.快速移动( beetle的现在分词 ) | |
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deploring
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| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的现在分词 ) | |
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subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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sneers
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| 讥笑的表情（言语）( sneer的名词复数 ) | |
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shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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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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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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raffish
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| adj.名誉不好的，无赖的，卑鄙的，艳俗的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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indignities
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| n.侮辱，轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
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unbearable
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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peevishly
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| adv．暴躁地 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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withhold
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| v.拒绝，不给；使停止，阻挡 | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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averting
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| 防止，避免( avert的现在分词 )； 转移 | |
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benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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entail
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| vt.使承担，使成为必要，需要 | |
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strenuously
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| adv.奋发地，费力地 | |
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flaunt
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| vt.夸耀，夸饰 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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gad
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| n.闲逛；v.闲逛 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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48
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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stonier
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| 多石头的( stony的比较级 )； 冷酷的，无情的 | |
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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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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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exhort
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| v.规劝，告诫 | |
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54
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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55
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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56
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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57
squeal
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| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
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58
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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belies
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| v.掩饰( belie的第三人称单数 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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purport
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| n.意义，要旨，大要；v.意味著，做为...要旨，要领是... | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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intrusive
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| adj.打搅的；侵扰的 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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pertinent
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| adj.恰当的；贴切的；中肯的；有关的；相干的 | |
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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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absolve
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| v.赦免，解除（责任等） | |
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crave
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| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
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chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tangling
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| （使）缠结， （使）乱作一团( tangle的现在分词 ) | |
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unravelling
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| 解开，拆散，散开( unravel的现在分词 )； 阐明； 澄清； 弄清楚 | |
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