“In heaven's name, why?” questioned the bachelor.
“You have, so to speak, bought me.”
“Impossible: your price is prohibitive.”
“Indeed, when a thousand pounds—”
“You are worth fifty and a hundred times as much. Pooh!”
“That interjection doesn't answer my question.”
“I don't think it is one which needs answering,” said the young man lightly; “there are more important things to talk about than pounds, shillings, and sordid2 pence.”
“Oh, indeed! Such as—”
“Love, on a day such as this is. Look at the sky, blue as your eyes; at the sunshine, golden as your hair.”
“Warm as your affection, you should say.”
“Affection! So cold a word, when I love you.”
“To the extent of one thousand pounds.”
“Lucy, you are a—woman. That money did not buy your love, but the consent of your step-father to our marriage. Had I not humored his whim3, he would have insisted upon your marrying Random4.”
Lucy pouted again and in scorn.
“As if I ever would,” said she.
“Well, I don't know. Random is a soldier and a baronet; handsome and agreeable, with a certain amount of talent. What objection can you find to such a match?”
“One insuperable objection; he isn't you, Archie—darling.”
“H'm, the adjective appears to be an afterthought,” grumbled5 the bachelor; then, when she merely laughed teasingly after the manner of women, he added moodily6:
“No, by Jove, Random isn't me, by any manner of means. I am but a poor artist without fame or position, struggling on three hundred a year for a grudging7 recognition.”
“Quite enough for one, you greedy creature.”
“And for two?” he inquired softly.
“More than enough.”
“Oh, nonsense, nonsense, nonsense!”
“What! when I am engaged to you? Actions speak much louder than remarks, Mr. Archibald Hope. I love you more than I do money.”
“Angel! angel!”
“You said that I was a woman just now. What do, you mean?”
“This,” and he kissed her willing lips in the lane, which was empty save for blackbirds and beetles8. “Is any explanation a clear one?”
“Not to an angel, who requires adoration9, but to a woman who—Let us walk on, Archie, or we shall be late for dinner.”
The young man smiled and frowned and sighed and laughed in the space of thirty seconds—something of a feat10 in the way of emotional gymnastics. The freakish feminine nature perplexed11 him as it had perplexed Adam, and he could not understand this rapid change from poetry to prose. How could it be otherwise, when he was but five-and-twenty, and engaged for the first time? Threescore years and ten is all too short a time to learn what woman really is, and every student leaves this world with the conviction that of the thousand sides which the female of man presents to the male of woman, not one reveals the being he desires to know. There is always a deep below a deep; a veil behind a veil, a sphere within a sphere.
“It's most remarkable,” said the puzzled man in this instance.
To avoid an argument which he could not sustain, Archie switched his on to the weather.
“This day in September; one could well believe that it is still the month of roses.”
“What! With those wilted14 hedges and falling leaves and reaped fields and golden haystacks, and—and—”
She glanced around for further illustrations in the way of contradiction.
“I can see all those things, dear, and the misplaced day also!”
“Misplaced?”
“July day slipped into September. It comes into the landscape of this autumn month, as does love into the hearts of an elderly couple who feel too late the supreme15 passion.”
Lucy's eyes swept the prospect16, and the spring-like sunshine, revealing all too clearly the wrinkles of aging Nature, assisted her comprehension.
“I understand. Yet youth has its wisdom.”
“And old age its experience. The law of compensation, my dearest. But I don't see,” he added reflectively, “what your remark and my answer have to do with the view,” whereat Lucy declared that his wits wandered.
Within the last five minutes they had emerged from a sunken lane where the hedges were white with dust and dry with heat to a vast open space, apparently17 at the World's-End. Here the saltings spread raggedly18 towards the stately stream of the Thames, intersected by dykes19 and ditches, by earthen ramparts, crooked20 fences, sod walls, and irregular lines of stunted21 trees following the water-courses. The marshes22 were shaggy with reeds and rushes, and brown with coarse, fading herbage, although here and there gleamed emerald-hued patches of water-soaked soil, fit for fairy-rings. Beyond a moderately high embankment of turf and timber, the lovers could see the broad river, sweeping23 eastward24 to the Nore, with homeward-bound and outward-faring ships afloat on its golden tide. Across the gleaming waters, from where they lipped their banks to the foot of low domestic Kentish hills, stretched alluvial25 lands, sparsely26 timbered, and in the clear sunshine clusters of houses, great and small, factories with tall, smoky chimneys, clumps27 of trees and rigid28 railway lines could be discerned. The landscape was not beautiful, in spite of the sun's profuse29 gildings, but to the lovers it appeared a Paradise. Cupid, lord of gods and men, had bestowed30 on them the usual rose-colored spectacles which form an important part of his stock-in-trade, and they looked abroad on a fairy world. Was not SHE there: was not HE there: could Romeo or Juliet desire more?
From their feet ran the slim, straight causeway, which was the King's highway of the district—a trim, prim31 line of white above the picturesque32 disorder33 of the marshes. It skirted the low-lying fields at the foot of the uplands and slipped through an iron gate to end in the far distance at the gigantic portal of The Fort. This was a squat34, ungainly pile of rugged35 gray stone, symmetrically built, but aggressively ugly in its very regularity36, since it insulted the graceful37 curves of Nature everywhere discernible. It stood nakedly amidst the bare, bleak38 meadows glittering with pools of still water, with not even the leaf of a creeper to soften39 its menacing walls, although above them appeared the full-foliaged tops of trees planted in the barrack-yard. It looked as though the grim walls belted a secret orchard40. What with the frowning battlements, the very few windows diminutive41 and closely barred, the sullen42 entrance and the absence of any gracious greenery, Gartley Fort resembled the Castle of Giant Despair. On the hither side, but invisible to the lovers, great cannons43 scowled44 on the river they protected, and, when they spoke45, received answer from smaller guns across the stream. There less extensive forts were concealed46 amidst trees and masked by turf embankments, to watch and guard the golden argosies of London commerce.
Lucy, always impressionable, shivered with her hand in that of Archie's, as she stared at the landscape, melancholy47 even in the brilliant sunshine.
“If you marry Random you will have to live there, or on a baggage wagon49. He is R.G.A. captain, remember, and has to go where glory calls him, like a good soldier.”
“Glory can call until glory is hoarse50 for me,” retorted the girl candidly51. “I prefer an artist's studio to a camp.”
“The reason is obvious. I love the artist.”
“And if you loved the soldier?”
“I should mount the baggage wagon and make him Bovril when he was wounded. But for you, dear, I shall cook and sew and bake and—”
“Stop! stop! I want a wife, not a housekeeper53.”
“Every sensible man wants the two in one.”
“But you should be a queen, darling.”
“Not with my own consent, Archie: the work is much too hard. Existence on six pounds a week with you will be more amusing. We can take a cottage, you know, and live, the simple life in Gartley village, until you become the P.R.A., and I can be Lady Hope, to walk in silk attire54.”
“You shall be Queen of the Earth, darling, and walk alone.”
“How dull! I would much rather walk with you. And that reminds me that dinner is waiting. Let us take the short cut home through the village. On the way you can tell me exactly how you bought me from my step-father for one thousand pounds.”
Archie Hope frowned at the incurable55 obstinacy56 of the sex. “I didn't buy you, dearest: how many times do you wish me to deny a sale which never took place? I merely obtained your step-father's consent to our marriage in the near future.”
“As if he had anything to do with my marriage, being only my step-father, and having, in my eyes, no authority. In what way did you get his consent—his unnecessary consent,” she repeated with emphasis.
Of course it was waste of breath to argue with a woman who had made up her mind. The two began to walk towards the village along the causeway, and Hope cleared his throat to explain—patiently as to a child.
“You know that your step-father—Professor Braddock—is crazy on the subject of mummies?”
“Quite so, but less famous and rich than he should be, considering his knowledge of dry-as-dust antiquities58. Well, then, to make a long story short, he told me that he greatly desired to examine into the difference between the Egyptians and the Peruvians, with regard to the embalming59 of the dead.”
“I always thought that he was too fond of Egypt to bother about any other country,” said Lucy sapiently60.
“My dear, it isn't the country he cares about, but the civilization of the past. The Incas embalmed61 their dead, as did the Egyptians, and in some way the Professor heard of a Royal Mummy, swathed in green bandages—so he described it to me.”
“It should be called an Irish mummy,” said Lucy flippantly. “Well?”
“This mummy is in possession of a man at Malta, and Professor Braddock, hearing that it was for sale for one thousand pounds—”
“Oh!” interrupted the girl vivaciously62, “so this was why father sent Sidney Bolton away six weeks ago?”
“Yes. As you know, Bolton is your step-father's assistant, and is as crazy as the Professor on the subject of Egypt. I asked the Professor if he would allow me to marry you—”
“Quite unnecessary,” interpolated Lucy briskly.
“When I asked him, he said that he wished you to marry Random, who is rich. I pointed64 out that you loved me and not Random, and that Random was on a yachting cruise, while I was on the spot. He then said that he could not wait for the return of Random, and would give me a chance.”
“What did he mean by that?”
“Well, it seems that he was in a hurry to get this Green Mummy from Malta, as he feared lest some other person should snap it up. This was two months ago, remember, and Professor Braddock wanted the cash at once. Had Random been here he could have supplied it, but as Random was away he told me that if I handed over one thousand pounds to purchase the mummy, that he would permit our engagement now, and our marriage in six months. I saw my chance and took it, for your step-father has always been an obstacle in our path, Lucy, dear. In a week Professor Braddock had the money, as I sold out some of my investments to get it. He then sent Bolton to Malta in a tramp steamer for the sake of cheapness, and now expects him back with the Green Mummy.”
“Has Sidney bought it?”
“Yes. He got it for nine hundred pounds, the Professor told me, and is bringing it back in The Diver—that's the same tramp steamer in which he went to Malta. So that's the whole story, and you can see there is no question of you being bought. The thousand pounds went to get your father's consent.”
“He is not my father,” snapped Lucy, finding nothing else to say.
“You call him so.”
“That is only from habit. I can't call him Mr. Braddock, or Professor Braddock, when I live with him, so `father' is the sole mode of address left to me. And after all,” she added, taking her lover's arm, “I like the Professor; he is very kind and good, although extremely absent-minded. And I am glad he has consented, for he worried me a lot to marry Sir Frank Random. I am glad you bought me.”
“But I didn't,” cried the exasperated65 lover.
“I think you did, and you shouldn't have diminished your income by buying what you could have had for nothing.”
“I have still three hundred a year left. And you were worth buying.”
“You have no right to talk of me as though I had been bought.”
“Oh, what does it matter what I said. I am going to marry you on three hundred a year, so there it is. I suppose when Bolton returns, my father will be glad to see the back of me, and then will go to Egypt with Sidney to explore this secret tomb he is always talking about.”
“That expedition will require more than a thousand pounds,” said Archie dryly. “The Professor explained the obstacles to me. However, his doings have nothing to do with us, darling. Let Professor Braddock fumble69 amongst the dead if he likes. We live!”
“Apart,” sighed Lucy.
“Only for the next six months; then we can get our cottage and live on love, my dearest.”
“Plus three hundred a year,” said the girl sensibly then she added, “Oh, poor Frank Random!”
“Lucy,” cried her lover indignantly.
“Well, I was only pitying him. He's a nice man, and you can't expect him to be pleased at our marriage.”
“Perhaps,” said Hope in an icy tone, “you would like him to be the bridegroom. If so, there is still time.”
“Silly boy!” She took his arm. “As I have been bought, you know that I can't run away from my purchaser.”
“You denied being bought just now. It seems to me, Lucy, that I am to marry a weather-cock.”
“That is only an impolite name for a woman, dear. You have no sense of humor, Frank, or you would call me an April lady.”
“Because you change every five minutes. H'm! It's puzzling.”
“Is it? Perhaps you would like me to resemble Widow Anne, who is always funereal70. Here she is, looking like Niobe.”
They were strolling through Gartley village by this time, and the cottagers came to their doors and front gates to look at the handsome young couple. Everyone knew of the engagement, and approved of the same, although some hinted that Lucy Kendal would have been wiser to marry the soldier-baronet. Amongst these was Widow Anne, who really was Mrs. Bolton, the mother of Sidney, a dismal71 female invariably arrayed in rusty72, stuffy73, aggressive mourning, although her husband had been dead for over twenty years. Because of this same mourning, and because she was always talking of the dead, she was called “Widow Anne,” and looked on the appellation74 as a compliment to her fidelity75. At the present moment she stood at the gate of her tiny garden, mopping her red eyes with a dingy76 handkerchief.
“Ah, young love, young love, my lady,” she groaned77, when the couple passed, for she always gave Lucy a title as though she really and truly had become the wife of Sir Frank, “but who knows how long it may last?”
“As long as we do,” retorted Lucy, annoyed by this prophetic speech.
Widow Anne groaned with relish78. “So me and Aaron, as is dead and gone, thought, my lady. But in six months he was knocking the head off me.”
“The man who would lay his hand on a woman save in the way of—”
“Ah!” sighed the woman of experience, “I called it nonsense too, my lady, afore Aaron, who now lies with the worms, laid me out with a flat-iron. Men's fit for jails only, as I allays80 says.”
“A nice opinion you have of our sex,” remarked Archie dryly.
“I have, sir. I could tell you things as would make your head waggle with horror on there shoulders of yours.”
“What about your son Sidney? Is he also wicked?”
“He would be if he had the strength, which he hasn't,” exclaimed the widow with uncomplimentary fervor81. “He's Aaron's son, and Aaron hadn't much to learn from them as is where he's gone too,” and she looked downward significantly.
“Sidney is a decent young fellow,” said Lucy sharply. “How dare you miscall your own flesh and blood, Widow Anne? My father thinks a great deal of Sidney, else he would not have sent him to Malta. Do try and be cheerful, there's a good soul. Sidney will tell you plenty to make you laugh, when he comes home.”
“If he ever does come home,” sighed the old woman.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, it's all very well asking questions as can't be answered nohow, my lady, but I be all of a mubble-fubble, that I be.”
“What is a mubble-fubble?” asked Hope, staring.
“It's a queer-like feeling of death and sorrow and tears of blood and not lifting your head for groans,” said Widow Anne incoherently, “and there's meanings in mubble-fumbles, as we're told in Scripture83. Not but what the Perfesser's been a kind gentleman to Sid in taking him from going round with the laundry cart, and eddicating him to watch camphorated corpses85: not as what I'd like to keep an eye on them things myself. But there's no more watching for my boy Sid, as I dreamed.”
Widow Anne threw up two gnarled hands, wrinkled with age and laundry work, screwing up her face meanwhile.
“I dreamed of battle and murder and sudden death, my lady, with Sid in his cold grave playing on a harp82, angel-like. Yes!” she folded her rusty shawl tightly round her spare form and nodded, “there was Sid, looking beautiful in his coffin87, and cut into a hash, as you might say, with—”
“With murder written all over his poor face,” pursued the widow. “And I woke up screeching89 with cramp90 in my legs and pains in my lungs, and beatings in my heart, and stiffness in my—”
“Oh, hang it, shut up!” shouted Archie, seeing that Lucy was growing pale at this ghoulish recital91, “don't be fool, woman. Professor Braddock says that Bolton'll be back in three days with the mummy he has been sent to fetch from Malta. You have been having nightmare! Don't you see how you are frightening Miss Kendal?”
“'The Witch' of Endor, sir—”
“Deuce take the Witch of Endor and you also. There's a shilling. Go and drink yourself into a more cheery frame of mind.”
Widow Anne bit the shilling with one of her two remaining teeth, and dropped a curtsey.
“You're a good, kind gentleman,” she smirked92, cheered at the idea of unlimited93 gin. “And when my boy Sid do come home a corpse84, I hope you'll come to the funeral, sir.”
“What a raven94!” said Lucy, as Widow Anne toddled95 away in the direction of the one public-house in Gartley village.
“I don't wonder that the late Mr. Bolton laid her out with a flat-iron. To slay96 such a woman would be meritorious97.”
“I wonder how she came to be the mother of Sidney,” said Miss Kendal reflectively, as they resumed their walk, “he's such a clever, smart, and handsome young man.”
“I think Bolton owes everything to the Professor's teaching and example, Lucy,” replied her lover. “He was an uncouth98 lad, I understand, when your step-father took him into the house six years ago. Now he is quite presentable. I shouldn't wonder if he married Mrs. Jasher.”
“H'm! I rather think Mrs. Jasher admires the Professor.”
“Oh, he'll never marry her. If she were a mummy there might be a chance, of course, but as a human being the Professor will never look at her.”
“I don't know so much about that, Archie. Mrs. Jasher is attractive.”
Hope laughed. “In a mutton-dressed-as-lamb way, no doubt.”
“And she has money. My father is poor and so—”
“You make up a match at once, as every woman will do. Well, let us get back to the Pyramids, and see how the flirtation99 is progressing.”
Lucy walked on for a few steps in silence. “Do you believe in Mrs. Bolton's dream, Archie?”
“No! I believe she eats heavy suppers. Bolton will return quite safe; he is a clever fellow, not easily taken advantage of. Don't bother any more about Widow Anne and her dismal prophecies.”
“I'll try not to,” replied Lucy dutifully. “All the same, I wish she had not told me her dream,” and she shivered.
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1
pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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grudging
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| adj.勉强的，吝啬的 | |
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beetles
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| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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enigma
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| n.谜，谜一样的人或事 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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raggedly
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| 破烂地，粗糙地 | |
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dykes
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| abbr.diagonal wire cutters 斜线切割机n.堤( dyke的名词复数 )；坝；堰；沟 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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sweeping
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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alluvial
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sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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squat
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rugged
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regularity
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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cannons
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| n.加农炮，大炮，火炮( cannon的名词复数 ) | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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46
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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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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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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incurable
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| adj.不能医治的，不能矫正的，无救的；n.不治的病人，无救的人 | |
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obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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antiquities
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| n.古老( antiquity的名词复数 )；古迹；古人们；古代的风俗习惯 | |
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embalming
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| v.保存（尸体）不腐( embalm的现在分词 )；使不被遗忘；使充满香气 | |
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sapiently
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embalmed
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| adj.用防腐药物保存（尸体）的v.保存（尸体）不腐( embalm的过去式和过去分词 )；使不被遗忘；使充满香气 | |
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vivaciously
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| adv.快活地；活泼地；愉快地 | |
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evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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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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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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fumble
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| vi.笨拙地用手摸、弄、接等，摸索 | |
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funereal
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| adj.悲哀的；送葬的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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appellation
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| n.名称，称呼 | |
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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pettishly
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allays
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| v.减轻，缓和( allay的第三人称单数 ) | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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smirked
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| v.傻笑( smirk的过去分词 ) | |
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93
unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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95
toddled
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的过去式和过去分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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96
slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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97
meritorious
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| adj.值得赞赏的 | |
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98
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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99
flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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