“Well,” said Janet, earnestly looking at him, “how do you like the effect of that window, now it’s done?”
“Father said it was,” she remarked. “I do hope Mr Clayhanger will like it too!” And her voice really was charged with sympathetic hope. It was as if she would be saddened and cast down if Darius did not approve the window. It was as if she fervently3 wished that Darius should not be disappointed with the window. The unskilled spectator might have assumed that anxiety for the success of the window would endanger her sleep at nights. She was perfectly4 sincere. Her power of emotional sympathy was all-embracing and inexhaustible. If she heard that an acquaintance of one of her acquaintances had lost a relative or broken a limb, she would express genuine deep concern, with a tremor5 of her honest and kindly6 voice. And if she heard the next moment that an acquaintance of one of her acquaintances had come into five thousand pounds or affianced himself to a sister-spirit, her eyes would sparkle with heartfelt joy and her hands clasp each other in sheer delight.
“Oh!” said Edwin, touched. “It’ll be all right for the dad. No fear!”
“I haven’t seen it yet,” she proceeded. “In fact I haven’t been in your house for such a long time. But I do think it’s going to be very nice. All father’s houses are so nice, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” said Edwin, with that sideways shake of the head that in the vocabulary of his gesture signified, not dissent7, but emphatic8 assent9. “You ought to come and have a look at it.” He could not say less.
“I— I—”
“I know what I’ll do. I’ll get the steps.” She walked off sedately12, and came back with a small pair of steps, which she opened out on the narrow flower-bed under the hedge. Then she picked up her skirt and delicately ascended13 the rocking ladder till her feet were on a level with the top of the hedge. She smiled charmingly, savouring the harmless escapade, and gazing at Edwin. She put out her free hand, Edwin took it, and she jumped. The steps fell backwards14, but she was safe.
“What a good thing mother didn’t see me!” she laughed. Her grave, sympathetic, almost handsome face was now alive everywhere with a sort of challenging merriment. She was only pretending that it was a good thing her mother had not seen her: a delicious make-believe. Why, she was as motherly as her mother! In an instant her feet were choosing their way and carrying her with grace and stateliness across the mire15 of the unformed garden. She was the woman of the world, and Edwin the raw boy. The harmony and dignity of her movements charmed and intimidated16 Edwin. Compare her to Maggie... That she was hatless added piquancy17.
Two.
They went into the echoing bare house, crunching18 gravel and dry clay on the dirty, new floors. They were alone together in the house. And all the time Edwin was thinking: “I’ve never been through anything like this before. Never been through anything like this!” And he recalled for a second the figure of Florence Simcox, the clog-dancer.
And below these images and reflections in his mind was the thought: “I haven’t known what life is! I’ve been asleep. This is life!”
The upper squares of the drawing-room window were filled with small leaded diamond-shaped panes19 of many colours. It was the latest fashion in domestic glazing20. The effect was at once rich and gorgeous. She liked it.
“It will be beautiful on this side in the late afternoon,” she murmured. “What a nice room!”
Their eyes met, and she transmitted to him her joy in his joy at the admirableness of the house.
He nodded. “By Jove!” he thought. “She’s a splendid girl. There can’t be many girls knocking about as fine as she is!”
“And when the garden’s full of flowers!” she breathed in rapture21. She was thinking, “Strange, nice boy! He’s so romantic. All he wants is bringing out.”
They wandered to and fro. They went upstairs. They saw the bathroom. They stood on the landing, and the unseen spaces of the house were busy with their echoes. They then entered the room that was to be Edwin’s.
“Mine!” he said self-consciously.
“And I see you’re having shelves fixed22 on both sides of the mantelpiece! You’re very fond of books, aren’t you?” she appealed to him.
“Yes,” he said judicially23.
“Aren’t they wonderful things?” Her glowing eyes seemed to be expressing gratitude24 to Shakespeare and all his successors in the dynasty of literature.
“That shelving is between your father and me,” said Edwin. “The dad doesn’t know. It’ll go in with the house-fittings. I don’t expect the dad will ever notice it.”
“Really!” She laughed, eager to join the innocent conspiracy25. “Father invented an excellent dodge26 for shelving in the hall at our house,” she added. “I’m sure he’d like you to come and see it. The dear thing’s most absurdly proud of it.”
“I should like to,” Edwin answered diffidently.
“Would you come in some evening and see us? Mother would be delighted. We all should.”
“Could you come to-night? ... Or to-morrow night?”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t come to-night, or to-morrow night,” he answered with firmness. A statement entirely28 untrue! He had no engagement; he never did have an engagement. But he was frightened, and his spirit sprang away from the idea, like a fawn29 at a sudden noise in the brake, and stood still.
He did not suspect that the unconscious gruffness of his tone had repulsed30 her. She blamed herself for a too brusque advance.
“Well, I hope some other time,” she said, mild and benignant.
“Thanks! I’d like to,” he replied more boldly, reassured31 now that he had heard again the same noise but indefinitely farther off.
She departed, but by the front door, and hatless and dignified32 up Trafalgar Road in the delicate sunshine to the next turning. She was less vivacious33.
He hoped he had not offended her, because he wanted very much—not to go in cold blood to the famed mansion34 of the Orgreaves—but by some magic to find himself within it one night, at his ease, sharing in brilliant conversation. “Oh no!” he said to himself. “She’s not offended. A fine girl like that isn’t offended for nothing at all!” He had been invited to visit the Orgreaves! He wondered what his father would say, or think. The unexpressed basic idea of the Clayhangers was that the Clayhangers were as good as other folks, be they who they might. Still, the Orgreaves were the Orgreaves... In sheer absence of mind he remounted the muddy stairs.
Three.
He regarded the shabbiness of his clothes; he had been preoccupied35 by their defects for about a quarter of an hour; now he examined them in detail, and said to himself disgusted, that really it was ridiculous for a man about to occupy a house like that to be wearing garments like those. Could he call on the Orgreaves in garments like those? His Sunday suit was not, he felt, in fact much better. It was newer, less tumbled, but scarcely better. His suits did not cost enough. Finance was at the root of the crying scandal of his career as a dandy. The financial question must be reopened and settled anew. He should attack his father. His father was extremely dependent on him now, and must be brought to see reason. (His father who had never seen reason!) But the attack must not be made with the weapon of clothes, for on that subject Darius was utterly36 unapproachable. Whenever Darius found himself in a conversation about clothes, he gave forth37 the antique and well-tried witticism38 that as for him he didn’t mind what he wore, because if he was at home everybody knew him and it didn’t matter, and if he was away from home nobody knew him and it didn’t matter. And he always repeated the saying with gusto, as if it was brand-new and none could possibly have heard it before.
No, Edwin decided39 that he would have to found his attack on the principle of abstract justice; he would never be able to persuade his father that he lacked any detail truly needful to his happiness. To go into details would be to invite defeat.
Of course it would be a bad season in which to raise the financial question. His father would talk savagely40 in reply about the enormous expenses of house-building, house-furnishing, and removing,—and architects’ and lawyers’ fees; he would be sure to mention the rapacity41 of architects and lawyers. Nevertheless Edwin felt that at just this season, and no other, must the attack be offered.
Because the inauguration42 of the new house was to be for Edwin, in a very deep and spiritual sense, the beginning of the new life! He had settled that. The new house inspired him. It was not paradise. But it was a temple.
You of the younger generation cannot understand that—without imagination. I say that the hot-water system of the new house, simple and primitive43 as it was, affected44 and inspired Edwin like a poem. There was a cistern45-room, actually a room devoted46 to nothing but cisterns47, and the main cistern was so big that the builders had had to install it before the roof was put on, for it would never have gone through a door. This cistern, by means of a ball-tap, filled itself from the main nearly as quickly as it was emptied. Out of it grew pipes, creeping in secret downwards48 between inner walls of the house, penetrating49 everywhere. One went down to a boiler50 behind the kitchen-range and filled it, and as the fire that was roasting the joint51 heated the boiler, the water mounted again magically to the cistern-room and filled another cistern, spherical52 and sealed, and thence descended53, on a third journeying, to the bath and to the lavatory54 basin in the bathroom. All this was marvellous to Edwin; it was romantic. What! A room solely55 for baths! And a huge painted zinc56 bath! Edwin had never seen such a thing. And a vast porcelain57 basin, with tiles all round it, in which you could splash! An endless supply of water on the first floor!
At the shop-house, every drop of water on the first floor had to be carried upstairs in jugs58 and buckets; and every drop of it had to be carried down again. No hot water could be obtained until it had been boiled in a vessel59 on the fire. Hot water had the value of champagne60. To take a warm hip-bath was an immense enterprise of heating, fetching, decanting61, and general derangement62 of the entire house; and at best the bath was not hot; it always lost its virtue63 on the stairs and landing. And to splash—one of the most voluptuous64 pleasures in life—was forbidden by the code. Mrs Nixon would actually weep at a splashing. Splashing was immoral65. It was as wicked as amorous66 dalliance in a monastery67. In the shop-house godliness was child’s play compared to cleanliness.
And the shop-house was so dark! Edwin had never noticed how dark it was until the new house approached completion. The new house was radiant with light. It had always, for Edwin, the somewhat blinding brilliance68 which filled the sitting-room69 of the shop-house only when Duck Bank happened to be covered with fresh snow. And there was a dining-room, solely for eating, and a drawing-room. Both these names seemed ‘grand’ to Edwin, who had never sat in any but a sitting-room. Edwin had never dined; he had merely had dinner. And, having dined, to walk ceremoniously into another room! (Odd! After all, his father was a man of tremendous initiative.) Would he and Maggie be able to do the thing naturally? Then there was the square hall—positively a room! That alone impelled71 him to a new life. When he thought of it all, the reception-rooms, the scientific kitchen, the vast scullery, the four large bedrooms, the bathroom, the three attics72, the cistern-room murmurous73 with water, and the water tirelessly, inexhaustibly coursing up and down behind walls—he thrilled to fine impulses.
He took courage. He braced74 himself. The seriousness which he had felt on the day of leaving school revisited him. He looked back across the seven years of his life in the world, and condemned75 them unsparingly. He blamed no one but Edwin. He had forgiven his father for having thwarted76 his supreme77 ambition; long ago he had forgiven his father; though, curiously78, he had never quite forgiven Mrs Hamps for her share in the catastrophe79. He honestly thought he had recovered from the catastrophe undisfigured, even unmarked. He knew not that he would never be the same man again, and that his lightest gesture and his lightest glance were touched with the wistfulness of resignation. He had frankly80 accepted the fate of a printer. And in business he was convinced, despite his father’s capricious complaints, that he had acquitted81 himself well. In all the details of the business he considered himself superior to his father. And Big James would invariably act on his secret instructions given afterwards to counteract82 some misguided hasty order of the old man’s.
It was the emptiness of the record of his private life that he condemned. What had he done for himself? Nothing large! Nothing heroic and imposing83! He had meant to pursue certain definite courses of study, to become the possessor of certain definite groups of books, to continue his drawing and painting, to practise this, that and the other, to map out all his spare time, to make rules and to keep them,—all to the great end of self-perfecting. He had said: “What does it matter whether I am an architect or a printer, so long as I improve myself to the best of my powers?” He hated young men who talked about improving themselves. He spurned84 the Young Men’s Mutual85 Improvement Society (which had succeeded the Debating Society—defunct through over-indulgence in early rising). Nevertheless in his heart he was far more enamoured of the idea of improvement than the worst prig of them all. He could never for long escape from the dominance of the idea. He might violently push it away, arguing that it could lead to nothing and was futile86 and tedious; back it would come! It had always worried him.
And yet he had accomplished87 nothing. His systems of reading never worked for more than a month at a time. And for several months at a time he simply squandered88 his spare hours, the hours that were his very own, in a sort of coma89 of crass90 stupidity, in which he seemed to be thinking of nothing whatever. He had not made any friends whom he could esteem91. He had not won any sort of notice. He was remarkable92 for nothing. He was not happy. He was not content. He had the consciousness of being a spendthrift of time and of years... A fair quantity of miscellaneous reading—that was all he had done. He was not a student. He knew nothing about anything. He had stood still.
Thus he upbraided93 himself. And against this futility94 was his courage now braced by the inspiration of the new house, and tightened95 to a smarting tension by the brief interview with Janet Orgreave. He was going to do several feats96 at once: tackle his father, develop into a right expert on some subject, pursue his painting, and—for the moment this had the chief importance—‘come out of his shell.’ He meant to be social, to impress himself on others, to move about, to form connections, to be Edwin Clayhanger, an individuality in the town,—to live. Why had he refused Janet’s invitation? Mere70 silliness. The old self nauseated97 the new. But the next instant he sought excuses for the old self... Wait a bit! There was time yet.
He was happy in the stress of one immense and complex resolve.
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1
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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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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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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dissent
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| n./v.不同意，持异议 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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intimidated
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| v.恐吓；威胁adj.害怕的；受到威胁的 | |
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piquancy
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| n.辛辣，辣味，痛快 | |
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18
crunching
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的现在分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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glazing
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| n.玻璃装配业；玻璃窗；上釉；上光v.装玻璃( glaze的现在分词 )；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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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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judicially
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| 依法判决地，公平地 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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26
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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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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fawn
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| n.未满周岁的小鹿；v.巴结，奉承 | |
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repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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31
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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32
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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36
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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witticism
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| n.谐语，妙语 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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rapacity
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| n.贪婪，贪心，劫掠的欲望 | |
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inauguration
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| n.开幕、就职典礼 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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cistern
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| n.贮水池 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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cisterns
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| n.蓄水池，储水箱( cistern的名词复数 )；地下储水池 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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penetrating
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| 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 | |
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boiler
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| n.锅炉；煮器(壶，锅等) | |
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51
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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spherical
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| adj.球形的；球面的 | |
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53
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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54
lavatory
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| n.盥洗室，厕所 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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56
zinc
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| n.锌；vt.在...上镀锌 | |
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porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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58
jugs
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| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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60
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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decanting
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| n.滗析（手续）v.将（酒等）自瓶中倒入另一容器( decant的现在分词 ) | |
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62
derangement
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| n.精神错乱 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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70
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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attics
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| n. 阁楼 | |
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murmurous
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| adj.低声的 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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thwarted
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| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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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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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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counteract
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| vt.对…起反作用，对抗，抵消 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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spurned
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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squandered
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| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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coma
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| n.昏迷，昏迷状态 | |
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crass
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| adj.愚钝的，粗糙的；彻底的 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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upbraided
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| v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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nauseated
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| adj.作呕的，厌恶的v.使恶心，作呕( nauseate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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