It reached his ears that Bellston had not appeared on the evening of his arrival at any hotel in the town or neighbourhood, or entered his wife’s house at all. ‘That’s a part of his cruelty,’ thought Nicholas. And when two or three days had passed, and still no account came to him of Bellston having joined her, he ventured to set out for Froom-Everard.
Christine was so shaken that she was obliged to receive him as she lay on a sofa, beside the square table which was to have borne their evening feast. She fixed9 her eyes wistfully upon him, and smiled a sad smile.
‘He has not come?’ said Nicholas under his breath.
‘He has not.’
Then Nicholas sat beside her, and they talked on general topics merely like saddened old friends. But they could not keep away the subject of Bellston, their voices dropping as it forced its way in. Christine, no less than Nicholas, knowing her husband’s character, inferred that, having stopped her game, as he would have phrased it, he was taking things leisurely10, and, finding nothing very attractive in her limited mode of living, was meaning to return to her only when he had nothing better to do.
The bolt which laid low their hopes had struck so recently that they could hardly look each other in the face when speaking that day. But when a week or two had passed, and all the horizon still remained as vacant of Bellston as before, Nicholas and she could talk of the event with calm wonderment. Why had he come, to go again like this?
So like, so very like, was day to day,
that to tell of one of them is to tell of all. Nicholas would arrive between three and four in the afternoon, a faint trepidation12 influencing his walk as he neared her door. He would knock; she would always reply in person, having watched for him from the window. Then he would whisper—‘He has not come?’
‘He has not,’ she would say.
Nicholas would enter then, and she being ready bonneted13, they would walk into the Sallows together as far as to the spot which they had frequently made their place of appointment in their youthful days. A plank14 bridge, which Bellston had caused to be thrown over the stream during his residence with her in the manor15-house, was now again removed, and all was just the same as in Nicholas’s time, when he had been accustomed to wade16 across on the edge of the cascade17 and come up to her like a merman from the deep. Here on the felled trunk, which still lay rotting in its old place, they would now sit, gazing at the descending18 sheet of water, with its never-ending sarcastic19 hiss20 at their baffled attempts to make themselves one flesh. Returning to the house they would sit down together to tea, after which, and the confidential21 chat that accompanied it, he walked home by the declining light. This proceeding22 became as periodic as an astronomical23 recurrence24. Twice a week he came—all through that winter, all through the spring following, through the summer, through the autumn, the next winter, the next year, and the next, till an appreciable25 span of human life had passed by. Bellston still tarried.
Years and years Nic walked that way, at this interval26 of three days, from his house in the neighbouring town; and in every instance the aforesaid order of things was customary; and still on his arrival the form of words went on—‘He has not come?’
‘He has not.’
So they grew older. The dim shape of that third one stood continually between them; they could not displace it; neither, on the other hand, could it effectually part them. They were in close communion, yet not indissolubly united; lovers, yet never growing cured of love. By the time that the fifth year of Nic’s visiting had arrived, on about the five-hundredth occasion of his presence at her tea-table, he noticed that the bleaching27 process which had begun upon his own locks was also spreading to hers. He told her so, and they laughed. Yet she was in good health: a condition of suspense28, which would have half-killed a man, had been endured by her without complaint, and even with composure.
One day, when these years of abeyance29 had numbered seven, they had strolled as usual as far as the waterfall, whose faint roar formed a sort of calling voice sufficient in the circumstances to direct their listlessness. Pausing there, he looked up at her face and said, ‘Why should we not try again, Christine? We are legally at liberty to do so now. Nothing venture nothing have.’
But she would not. Perhaps a little primness30 of idea was by this time ousting31 the native daring of Christine. ‘What he has done once he can do twice,’ she said. ‘He is not dead, and if we were to marry he would say we had “forced his hand,” as he said before, and duly reappear.’
Some years after, when Christine was about fifty, and Nicholas fifty-three, a new trouble of a minor32 kind arrived. He found an inconvenience in traversing the distance between their two houses, particularly in damp weather, the years he had spent in trying climates abroad having sown the seeds of rheumatism33, which made a journey undesirable34 on inclement35 days, even in a carriage. He told her of this new difficulty, as he did of everything.
‘If you could live nearer,’ suggested she.
Unluckily there was no house near. But Nicholas, though not a millionaire, was a man of means; he obtained a small piece of ground on lease at the nearest spot to her home that it could be so obtained, which was on the opposite brink36 of the Froom, this river forming the boundary of the Froom-Everard manor; and here he built a cottage large enough for his wants. This took time, and when he got into it he found its situation a great comfort to him. He was not more than five hundred yards from her now, and gained a new pleasure in feeling that all sounds which greeted his ears, in the day or in the night, also fell upon hers—the caw of a particular rook, the voice of a neighbouring nightingale, the whistle of a local breeze, or the purl of the fall in the meadows, whose rush was a material rendering37 of Time’s ceaseless scour38 over themselves, wearing them away without uniting them.
Christine’s missing husband was taking shape as a myth among the surrounding residents; but he was still believed in as corporeally39 imminent40 by Christine herself, and also, in a milder degree, by Nicholas. For a curious unconsciousness of the long lapse41 of time since his revelation of himself seemed to affect the pair. There had been no passing events to serve as chronological42 milestones43, and the evening on which she had kept supper waiting for him still loomed44 out with startling nearness in their retrospects45.
In the seventeenth pensive46 year of this their parallel march towards the common bourne, a labourer came in a hurry one day to Nicholas’s house and brought strange tidings. The present owner of Froom-Everard—a non-resident—had been improving his property in sundry47 ways, and one of these was by dredging the stream which, in the course of years, had become choked with mud and weeds in its passage through the Sallows. The process necessitated48 a reconstruction49 of the waterfall. When the river had been pumped dry for this purpose, the skeleton of a man had been found jammed among the piles supporting the edge of the fall. Every particle of his flesh and clothing had been eaten by fishes or abraded50 to nothing by the water, but the relics51 of a gold watch remained, and on the inside of the case was engraved52 the name of the maker53 of her husband’s watch, which she well remembered.
Nicholas, deeply agitated54, hastened down to the place and examined the remains55 attentively56, afterwards going across to Christine, and breaking the discovery to her. She would not come to view the skeleton, which lay extended on the grass, not a finger or toe-bone missing, so neatly57 had the aquatic58 operators done their work. Conjecture59 was directed to the question how Bellston had got there; and conjecture alone could give an explanation.
It was supposed that, on his way to call upon her, he had taken a short cut through the grounds, with which he was naturally very familiar, and coming to the fall under the trees had expected to find there the plank which, during his occupancy of the premises60 with Christine and her father, he had placed there for crossing into the meads on the other side instead of wading61 across as Nicholas had done. Before discovering its removal he had probably overbalanced himself, and was thus precipitated62 into the cascade, the piles beneath the descending current wedging him between them like the prongs of a pitchfork, and effectually preventing the rising of his body, over which the weeds grew. Such was the reasonable supposition concerning the discovery; but proof was never forthcoming.
‘To think,’ said Nicholas, when the remains had been decently interred63, and he was again sitting with Christine—though not beside the waterfall—‘to think how we visited him! How we sat over him, hours and hours, gazing at him, bewailing our fate, when all the time he was ironically hissing64 at us from the spot, in an unknown tongue, that we could marry if we chose!’
She echoed the sentiment with a sigh.
‘I have strange fancies,’ she said. ‘I suppose it must have been my husband who came back, and not some other man.’
Nicholas felt that there was little doubt. ‘Besides—the skeleton,’ he said.
‘Yes . . . If it could not have been another person’s—but no, of course it was he.’
‘You might have married me on the day we had fixed, and there would have been no impediment. You would now have been seventeen years my wife, and we might have had tall sons and daughters.’
‘It might have been so,’ she murmured.
‘Well—is it still better late than never?’
The question was one which had become complicated by the increasing years of each. Their wills were somewhat enfeebled now, their hearts sickened of tender enterprise by hope too long deferred65. Having postponed66 the consideration of their course till a year after the interment of Bellston, each seemed less disposed than formerly to take it up again.
‘Is it worth while, after so many years?’ she said to him. ‘We are fairly happy as we are—perhaps happier than we should be in any other relation, seeing what old people we have grown. The weight is gone from our lives; the shadow no longer divides us: then let us be joyful67 together as we are, dearest Nic, in the days of our vanity; and
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.’
He fell in with these views of hers to some extent. But occasionally he ventured to urge her to reconsider the case, though he spoke68 not with the fervour of his earlier years.
Autumn, 1887.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
piqued
|
|
| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 )；激起（好奇心） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
obtrusive
|
|
| adj.显眼的；冒失的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
seclusion
|
|
| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
condoled
|
|
| v.表示同情，吊唁( condole的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
surmise
|
|
| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
trepidation
|
|
| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
bonneted
|
|
| 发动机前置的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
14
plank
|
|
| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
manor
|
|
| n.庄园，领地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
wade
|
|
| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
cascade
|
|
| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
descending
|
|
| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
sarcastic
|
|
| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
hiss
|
|
| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
confidential
|
|
| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
astronomical
|
|
| adj.天文学的，（数字）极大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
recurrence
|
|
| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
appreciable
|
|
| adj.明显的，可见的，可估量的，可觉察的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
bleaching
|
|
| 漂白法，漂白 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
suspense
|
|
| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
abeyance
|
|
| n.搁置，缓办，中止，产权未定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
primness
|
|
| n.循规蹈矩，整洁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
31
ousting
|
|
| 驱逐( oust的现在分词 )； 革职； 罢黜； 剥夺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
minor
|
|
| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
rheumatism
|
|
| n.风湿病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
undesirable
|
|
| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
inclement
|
|
| adj.严酷的，严厉的，恶劣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
brink
|
|
| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
rendering
|
|
| n.表现，描写 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
scour
|
|
| v.搜索；擦，洗，腹泻，冲刷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
corporeally
|
|
| adv.肉体上，物质上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
40
imminent
|
|
| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
lapse
|
|
| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
chronological
|
|
| adj.按年月顺序排列的，年代学的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
milestones
|
|
| n.重要事件( milestone的名词复数 )；重要阶段；转折点；里程碑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
loomed
|
|
| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
retrospects
|
|
| n.回顾，回想( retrospect的名词复数 )v.回顾，回想( retrospect的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
pensive
|
|
| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
sundry
|
|
| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
necessitated
|
|
| 使…成为必要，需要( necessitate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
reconstruction
|
|
| n.重建，再现，复原 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
abraded
|
|
| adj.[医]刮擦的v.刮擦( abrade的过去式和过去分词 )；（在精神方面）折磨（人）；消磨（意志、精神等）；使精疲力尽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
relics
|
|
| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
engraved
|
|
| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
maker
|
|
| n.制造者，制造商 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
aquatic
|
|
| adj.水生的，水栖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
conjecture
|
|
| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
premises
|
|
| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
wading
|
|
| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
precipitated
|
|
| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
interred
|
|
| v.埋，葬( inter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
hissing
|
|
| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
deferred
|
|
| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
postponed
|
|
| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
joyful
|
|
| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
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： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |