“As far as I can understand,” said Dr. Belford, “the creature has no strong vices—he is too bloodless and inane2 for them. Even when he had money it doesn’t appear that he gambled, and I don’t believe he drinks. He is simply wanting in principle, feeling and everything. Eliza says he has scarcely spoken to his wife, or she to him, since the baby died. Indeed she never speaks a word to any one beyond what is strictly3 necessary. This state of things cannot go on. I told Eliza yesterday to go and ask her for money, which she did. On the heels of it I went to her and told her you wanted to begin a new picture and could find no model so suitable as herself. I asked her if she would agree. She told me then that Eliza had come to her for money to carry on the house, and that she felt she must, in some way, earn it, as she would not owe tradespeople, who could not afford to lose by her. So she asked me to tell you she would begin the sittings to-morrow.”
“What a friend you are, Doctor, to her and to me!” said Noel, grasping his companion’s hand.
“I think I know my man. At all events I’m going to trust you. I haven’t much belief in saints, but unless you’re a double-dyed scoundrel you will never betray this trust.”
Noel answered nothing. The two men grasped hands a second longer and then, each satisfied with each, they parted.
When Christine came the next morning the pity that Noel felt for her almost overcame him. It was evident that the sight of the place brought up the saddest memories, and she appeared at the door empty-armed, instead of weighted down by her helpless little burden. The look on her face, as she threw back her veil, was almost more than he could bear. By a mute little gesture she seemed to implore5 him not to speak of what filled the minds of both, and he obeyed her. She gave him both her hands. He felt like falling on his knees before her, and controlled himself only by a strong effort. It seemed inhuman6 not to do something to help her, but what could he do?
“I’m so sorry for you,” was all he could say.
“Don’t speak. Don’t make me speak. You know I thank you for everything. I can’t talk.”
Then, loosing his hands, she walked off to a window and stood looking out, while Noel chose a different canvas and busied himself with preparations for work. Presently she came and placed herself calmly, and Noel began to draw. Occasionally he said some little thing, and she assented7, but they both soon felt that silence was the only thing. There was no suggestion of tears in her eyes, but their look was the sadder for that. When the sitting was ended Noel tried to make her take a glass of wine or some fruit, but she turned from them almost with distaste. As she was leaving, however, she asked if she might have the roses on the table. When Noel eagerly said yes she took the great bunch in her hand and went off—he well knew where!
After that she came daily, and the picture progressed, but she, the beautiful model, remained unchanged in her hopeless apathy8 and misery9.
One day at the close of the sitting Noel, as usual, went from the studio to his law-office. The season was dull and his partner was out of town, so it devolved on him to [Pg 131]read and attend to the mail. He had read half through the little pile of letters which he found awaiting his attention when he took up one bearing the name and address of a law firm in a Western town, with whom he and his partner had, from time to time, transacted10 business. He opened it abstractedly and began to run over the contents rather listlessly, when a name caught his eye that arrested his attention. The lawyers proposed to his partner and himself to cooperate with them in a case of bigamy. They had worked it up satisfactorily, they said, their client being the first wife of a man said to be now living with a second one in the city of Noel’s residence. The man’s name was Robert Dallas.
Noel sprang to his feet, while a dizziness that made him almost unconscious took possession of him. He fell back into his chair again, a chill running through all his veins11. If it should be the man Christine had married so hastily in a foreign country—the father of her child! The horror of it overcame him so that for several moments he remained transfixed. Then he reflected that the name might be a mere12 coincidence, and took up the letter to finish it.
Every word he read strengthened the conviction that it was the Robert Dallas that he knew. There was a minute description of him, which corresponded perfectly13, and the lawyer added that he had sent, by express, a photograph and specimens14 of his handwriting. Noel looked about him. An express parcel, which he had not noticed, lay on the table. He hastily cut the twine15 and opened it. There were papers and memoranda16, and in an envelope a photograph. He tore it open and the weak, handsome face of the father of Christine’s child confronted him. There was no longer a doubt of it; Christine, the innocent, the guileless, the confiding17, the pure and sweet and lovely, had been betrayed, and by this creature, this miserable18 excuse for a man, whose dull and feeble beauty looked to him hideous19 as leprosy. What would become of her? How would she bear it? Who would take care of her when the great shock fell?
A sudden strength came into him. A force that had lain as silent and reserved as the force of steam in water surged forth20 at the fiery21 touch of the thought that had first come to him. He got up hastily and put the lawyer’s letters and the parcel of papers into his iron safe and locked it. The photograph only he left out, and this he thrust into the inner pocket of his coat. As he was doing so it caught on something. It was his cross. A thought thrilled him. He was her knight22 of the Legion of Honor, and he felt that he had kept his trust!
He went out of the office, called a cab, and had himself driven to a street and number in a remote suburb of the city. In a quiet, pretty little house, overrun with vines, and facing a green and grassy23 public square as fresh and lovely as it was unfashionable, he stayed a long time, and when he emerged from it an elderly lady, dressed in black and with a white widow’s cap set above her smoothly-brushed hair, came to the door with him and pressed his hand with a fervent24 “God bless you” as he was leaving her.
It was evident that he had inspired her with some of the ardent25 spirit that was animating26 him, for she looked eager and full of interest, and as she turned back within the house, when he had driven off, she had the manner of a person who had work to do that called forth her best energies and sympathies. Noel had the same air as he caused himself to be driven from place to place, in pursuance of some purpose which kept him occupied until far into the night.
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1
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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inane
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| adj.空虚的，愚蠢的，空洞的 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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7
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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9
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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transacted
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| v.办理（业务等）( transact的过去式和过去分词 )；交易，谈判 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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12
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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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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specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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memoranda
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| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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animating
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| v.使有生气( animate的现在分词 )；驱动；使栩栩如生地动作；赋予…以生命 | |
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