“Never did I—or any other man—meet with such a head upon a woman’s shoulders,” her attorney said. And the head steward4 of Dunstanwolde and Helversly learned to quake at the sight of her bold handwriting upon the outside of a letter.
“Such a lady!” he said—“such a lady! Lie to her if you can; palter if you know how; try upon her the smallest honest shrewd trick, and see how it fares with you. Were it not that she is generous as she is piercing of eye, no man could serve her and make an honest living.”
She went to her chamber5 and was attired6 again sumptuously7 for dinner. Before she descended8 she dismissed her woman for a space on some errand, and when she was alone, drawing near to her mirror, gazed steadfastly9 within it at her face. When she had read Osmonde’s letter her cheeks had glowed; but when she had come back to earth, and as she had sat under her woman’s hands at her toilette, bit by bit the crimson10 had died out as she had thought of what was behind her and of what lay before. The thing was so stiffly rigid11 by this time, and its eyes still stared so. Never had she needed to put red upon her cheeks before, Nature having stained them with such richness of hue12; but as no lady of the day was unprovided with her crimson, there was a little pot among her toilette ornaments13 which contained all that any emergency might require. She opened this small receptacle and took from it the red she for the first time was in want of.
“I must not wear a pale face, God knows,” she said, and rubbed the colour on her cheeks with boldness.
It would have seemed that she wore her finest crimson when she went forth14 full dressed from her apartment; little Nero grinned to see her, the lacqueys saying among themselves that his Grace’s courier had surely brought good news, and that they might expect his master soon. At the dinner-table ’twas Anne who was pale and ate but little, she having put no red upon her cheeks, and having no appetite for what was spread before her. She looked strangely as though she were withered15 and shrunken, and her face seemed even wrinkled. My lady had small leaning towards food, but she sent no food away untouched, forcing herself to eat, and letting not the talk flag—though it was indeed true that ’twas she herself who talked, Mistress Anne speaking rarely; but as it was always her way to be silent, and a listener rather than one who conversed16, this was not greatly noticeable.
Her Ladyship of Dunstanwolde talked of her guests of the afternoon, and was charming and witty17 in her speech of them; she repeated the mots of the wits, and told some brilliant stories of certain modish18 ladies and gentlemen of fashion; she had things to say of statesmen and politics, and was sparkling indeed in speaking of the lovely languisher19 whose little wrist was too delicate and slender to support the loaded whip. While she talked, Mistress Anne’s soft, dull eyes were fixed20 upon her with a sort of wonder which had some of the quality of bewilderment; but this was no new thing either, for to the one woman the other was ever something to marvel21 at.
“It is because you are so quiet a mouse, Anne,” my lady said, with her dazzling smile, “that you seem never in the way; and yet I should miss you if I knew you were not within the house. When the duke takes me to Camylotte you must be with me even then. It is so great a house that in it I can find you a bower22 in which you can be happy even if you see us but little. ’Tis a heavenly place I am told, and of great splendour and beauty. The park and flower-gardens are the envy of all England.”
“You—will be very happy, sister,” said Anne, “and—and like a queen.”
After the repast was ended she went back to the Panelled Parlour.
“You may sit with me till bedtime if you desire, Anne,” she said; “but ’twill be but dull for you, as I go to sit at work. I have some documents of import to examine and much writing to do. I shall sit up late.” And upon this she turned to the lacquey holding open the door for her passing through. “If before half-past ten there comes a message from Sir John Oxon,” she gave order, “it must be brought to me at once; but later I must not be disturbed—it will keep until morning.”
Yet as she spoke23 there was before her as distinct a picture as ever of what lay waiting and gazing in the room to which she went.
Until twelve o’clock she sat at her table, a despatch25 box by her side, papers outspread before her. Within three feet of her was the divan26, but she gave no glance to it, sitting writing, reading, and comparing documents. At twelve o’clock she rose and rang the bell.
“I shall be later than I thought,” she said. “I need none of you who are below stairs. Go you all to bed. Tell my woman that she also may lie down. I will ring when I come to my chamber and have need of her. There is yet no message from Sir John?”
“None, my lady,” the man answered.
He went away with a relieved countenance27, as she made no comment. He knew that his fellows as well as himself would be pleased enough to be released from duty for the night. They were a pampered28 lot, and had no fancy for late hours when there were no great entertainments being held which pleased them and gave them chances to receive vails.
Mistress Anne sat in a large chair, huddled29 into a small heap, and looking colourless and shrunken. As she heard bolts being shot and bars put up for the closing of the house, she knew that her own dismissal was at hand. Doors were shut below stairs, and when all was done the silence of night reigned30 as it does in all households when those who work have gone to rest. ’Twas a common thing enough, and yet this night there was one woman who felt the stillness so deep that it made her breathing seem a sound too loud.
“Go to bed, Anne,” she said. “You have stayed up too long.”
Anne arose from her chair and drew near to her.
“Sister,” said she, as she had said before, “let me stay.”
She was a poor weak creature, and so she looked with her pale insignificant31 face and dull eyes, a wisp of loose hair lying damp on her forehead. She seemed indeed too weak a thing to stand even for a moment in the way of what must be done this night, and ’twas almost irritating to be stopped by her.
“Nay,” said my Lady Dunstanwolde, her beautiful brow knitting as she looked at her. “Go to your chamber, Anne, and to sleep. I must do my work, and finish to-night what I have begun.”
“But—but—” Anne stammered32, dominated again, and made afraid, as she ever was, by this strong nature, “in this work you must finish—is there not something I could do to—aid you—even in some small and poor way. Is there—naught?”
“Naught,” answered Clorinda, her form drawn to its great full height, her lustrous33 eyes darkening. “What should there be that you could understand?”
“Not some small thing—not some poor thing?” Anne said, her fingers nervously34 twisting each other, so borne down was she by her awful timorousness35, for awful it was indeed when she saw clouds gather on her sister’s brow. “I have so loved you, sister—I have so loved you that my mind is quickened somehow at times, and I can understand more than would be thought—when I hope to serve you. Once you said—once you said—”
She knew not then nor ever afterwards how it came to pass that in that moment she found herself swept into her sister’s white arms and strained against her breast, wherein she felt the wild heart bounding; nor could she, not being given to subtle reasoning, have comprehended the almost fierce kiss on her cheek nor the hot drops that wet it.
“I said that I believed that if you saw me commit murder,” Clorinda cried, “you would love me still, and be my friend and comforter.”
“I would, I would!” cried Anne.
“And I believe your word, poor, faithful soul—I do believe it,” my lady said, and kissed her hard again, but the next instant set her free and laughed. “But you will not be put to the test,” she said, “for I have done none. And in two days’ time my Gerald will be here, and I shall be safe—saved and happy for evermore—for evermore. There, leave me! I would be alone and end my work.”
And she went back to her table and sat beside it, taking her pen to write, and Anne knew that she dare say no more, and turning, went slowly from the room, seeing for her last sight as she passed through the doorway36, the erect37 and splendid figure at its task, the light from the candelabras shining upon the rubies38 round the snow-white neck and wreathed about the tower of raven39 hair like lines of crimson.
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1
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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2
pertaining
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| 与…有关系的，附属…的，为…固有的(to) | |
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3
stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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5
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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6
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7
sumptuously
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| 奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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8
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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9
steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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10
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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11
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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12
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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13
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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14
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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15
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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16
conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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17
witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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18
modish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的 | |
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19
languisher
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| 衰弱、憔悴的人 | |
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20
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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21
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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22
bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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23
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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24
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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25
despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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26
divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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27
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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28
pampered
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| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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30
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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31
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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32
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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34
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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35
timorousness
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| n.羞怯，胆怯 | |
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36
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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37
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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38
rubies
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| 红宝石( ruby的名词复数 )； 红宝石色，深红色 | |
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39
raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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