"Oh! Here's the paper, Mrs. Maldon," said Rachel, as, turning away to leave the room, she caught sight of the extra special edition of the Signal, which lay a pale green on the dark green of the Chesterfield.
Mrs. Maldon answered placidly—
"When did you bring it in? I never heard the boy come. But my hearing's not quite what it used to be, that's true. Open it for me, my dear. I can't stretch my arms as I used to."
She was one of the few women in the Five Towns who deigned1 to read a newspaper regularly, and one of the still fewer who would lead the miscellaneous conversation of drawing-rooms away from domestic chatter2 and discussions of individualities, to political and municipal topics and even toward general ideas. She seldom did more than mention a topic and then express a hope for the best, or explain that this phenomenon was "such a pity," or that phenomenon "such a good thing," or that about another phenomenon "one really didn't know what to think." But these remarks sufficed to class her apart among her sex as "a very up-to-date old lady, with a broad outlook upon the world," and to inspire sundry3 other ladies with a fearful respect for her masculine intellect and judgment4. She was aware of her superiority, and had a certain kind disdain5 for the increasing number of women who took in a daily picture-paper, and who, having dawdled6 over its illustrations after breakfast, spoke7 of what they had seen in the "newspaper." She would not allow that a picture-paper was a newspaper.
Rachel stood in the empty space under the gas. Her arms were stretched out and slightly upward as she held the Signal wide open and glanced at the newspaper, frowning. The light fell full on her coppery hair. Her balanced body, though masked in front by the perpendicular8 fall of the apron9 as she bent10 somewhat forward, was nevertheless the image of potential vivacity11 and energy; it seemed almost to vibrate with its own consciousness of physical pride.
Left alone, Rachel would never have opened a newspaper, at any rate for the news. Until she knew Mrs. Maldon she had never seen a woman read a newspaper for aught except the advertisements relating to situations, houses, and pleasures. But, much more than she imagined, she was greatly under the influence of Mrs. Maldon. Mrs. Maldon made a nightly solemnity of the newspaper, and Rachel naturally soon persuaded herself that it was a fine and a superior thing to read the newspaper—a proof of unusual intelligence. Moreover, just as she felt bound to show Mrs. Maldon that her notion of cleanliness was as advanced as anybody's, so she felt bound to indicate, by an appearance of casualness, that for her to read the paper was the most customary thing in the world. Of course she read the paper! And that she should calmly look at it herself before handing it to her mistress proved that she had already established a very secure position in the house.
She said, her eyes following the lines, and her feet moving in the direction of Mrs. Maldon— "Those burglaries are still going on ... Hillport now!"
"Oh, dear, dear!" murmured Mrs. Maldon, as Rachel spread the newspaper lightly over the tea-tray and its contents. "Oh, dear, dear! I do hope the police will catch some one soon. I'm sure they're doing their best, but really—!"
Rachel bent with confident intimacy12 over the old lady's shoulder, and they read the burglary column together, Rachel interrupting herself for an instant to pick up Mrs. Maldon's ball of black wool which had slipped to the floor. The Signal reporter had omitted none of the classic clichés proper to the subject, and such words and phrases as "jemmy," "effected an entrance," "the servant, now thoroughly13 alarmed," "stealthy footsteps," "escaped with their booty," seriously disquieted14 both of the women—caused a sudden sensation of sinking in the region of the heart. Yet neither would put the secret fear into speech, for each by instinct felt that a fear once uttered is strengthened and made more real. Living solitary15 and unprotected by male sinews, in a house which, though it did not stand alone, was somewhat withdrawn16 from the town, they knew themselves the ideal prey17 of conventional burglars with masks, dark lanterns, revolvers, and jemmies. They were grouped together like some symbolic18 sculpture, and with all their fortitude19 and common sense they still in unconscious attitude expressed the helpless and resigned fatalism of their sex before certain menaces of bodily danger, the thrilled, expectant submission20 of women in a city about to be sacked.
Nothing could save them if the peril21 entered the house. But they would not say aloud: "Suppose they came here! How terrible!" They would not even whisper the slightest apprehension22. They just briefly23 discussed the matter with a fine air of indifferent aloofness24, remaining calm while the brick walls and the social system which defended that bright and delicate parlour from the dark, savage25 universe without seemed to crack and shiver.
Mrs. Maldon, suddenly noticing that one blind was half an inch short of the bottom of the window, rose nervously26 and pulled it down farther.
"Why didn't you ask me to do that?" said Rachel, thinking what a fidgety person the old lady was.
Mrs. Maldon replied— "It's all right, my dear. Did you fasten the window on the upstairs landing?"
"As if burglars would try to get in by an upstairs window—and on the street!" thought Rachel, pityingly impatient. "However, it's her house, and I'm paid to do what I'm told," she added to herself, very sensibly. Then she said, aloud, in a soothing27 tone—
"No, I didn't. But I will do it."
She moved towards the door, and at the same moment a knock on the front door sent a vibration28 through the whole house. Nearly all knocks on the front door shook the house; and further, burglars do not generally knock as a preliminary to effecting an entrance. Nevertheless, both women started—and were ashamed of starting.
"Surely he's rather early!" said Mrs. Maldon with an exaggerated tranquillity29.
And Rachel, with a similar lack of conviction in her calm gait, went audaciously forth30 into the dark lobby.
V
On the glass panels of the front door the street lamp threw a faint, distorted shadow of a bowler31 hat, two rather protruding32 ears, and a pair of long, outspreading whiskers whose ends merged33 into broad shoulders. Any one familiar with the streets of Bursley would have instantly divined that Councillor Thomas Batchgrew stood between the gas-lamp and the front door. And even Rachel, whose acquaintance with Bursley was still slight, at once recognized the outlines of the figure. She had seen Councillor Batchgrew one day conversing34 with Mrs. Maldon in Moorthorne Road, and she knew that he bore to Mrs. Maldon the vague but imposing35 relation of "trustee."
There are many—indeed perhaps too many—remarkable men in the Five Towns. Thomas Batchgrew was one of them. He had begun life as a small plumber36 in Bursley market-place, living behind and above the shop, and begetting37 a considerable family, which exercised itself in the back yard among empty and full turpentine-cans. The original premises38 survived, as a branch establishment, and Batchgrew's latest-married grandson condescended39 to reside on the first floor, and to keep a motor-car and a tri-car in the back yard, now roofed over (in a manner not strictly41 conforming to the building by-laws of the borough). All Batchgrew's sons and daughters were married, and several of his grandchildren also. And all his children, and more than one of the grandchildren, kept motor-cars. Not a month passed but some Batchgrew, or some Batchgrew's husband or child, bought a motor-car, or sold one, or exchanged a small one for a larger one, or had an accident, or was gloriously fined in some distant part of the country for illegal driving. Nearly all of them had spacious42 detached houses, with gardens and gardeners, and patent slow-combustion grates, and porcelain43 bathrooms comprising every appliance for luxurious44 splashing. And, with the exception of one son who had been assisted to Valparaiso in order that he might there seek death in the tankard without outraging45 the family, they were all teetotallers—because the old man, "old Jack," was a teetotaller. The family pyramid was based firm on the old man. The numerous relatives held closely together like an alien oligarchical46 caste in a conquered country. If they ever did quarrel, it must have been in private.
The principal seat of business—electrical apparatus47, heating apparatus, and decorating and plumbing48 on a grandiose49 scale—in Hanbridge, had over its immense windows the sign: "John Batchgrew & Sons." The sign might well have read: "John Batchgrew & Sons, Daughters, Daughters-in-law, Sons-in-law, Grandchildren, and Great-grandchildren." The Batchgrew partners were always tendering for, and often winning, some big contract or other for heating and lighting50 and embellishing51 a public building or a mansion52 or a manufactory. (They by no means confined their activities to the Five Towns, having an address in London—and another in Valparaiso.) And small private customers were ever complaining of the inaccuracy of their accounts for small jobs. People who, in the age of Queen Victoria's earlier widowhood, had sent for Batchgrew to repair a burst spout53, still by force of habit sent for Batchgrew to repair a burst spout, and still had to "call at Batchgrew's" about mistakes in the bills, which mistakes, after much argument and asseveration, were occasionally put right. In spite of their prodigious54 expenditures55, and of a certain failure on the part of the public to understand "where all the money came from," the financial soundness of the Batchgrews was never questioned. In discussing the Batchgrews no bank-manager and no lawyer had ever by an intonation56 or a movement of the eyelid57 hinted that earthquakes had occurred before in the history of the world and might occur again.
And yet old Batchgrew—admittedly the cleverest of the lot, save possibly the Valparaiso soaker—could not be said to attend assiduously to business. He scarcely averaged two hours a day on the premises at Hanbridge. Indeed the staff there had a sense of the unusual, inciting59 to unusual energy and devotion, when word went round: "Guv'nor's in the office with Mr. John." The Councillor was always extremely busy with something other than his main enterprise. It was now reported, for example, that he was clearing vast sums out of picture-palaces in Wigan and Warrington. Also he was a religionist, being Chairman of the local Church of England Village Mission Fund. And he was a politician, powerful in municipal affairs. And he was a reformer, who believed that by abolishing beer he could abolish the poverty of the poor—and acted accordingly. And lastly he liked to enjoy himself.
Everybody knew by sight his flying white whiskers and protruding ears. And he himself was well aware of the steady advertising60 value of those whiskers—of always being recognizable half a mile off. He met everybody unflinchingly, for he felt that he was invulnerable at all points and sure of a magnificent obituary61. He was invariably treated with marked deference62 and respect. But he was not an honest man. He knew it. All his family knew it. In business everybody knew it except a few nincompoops. Scarcely any one trusted him. The peculiar63 fashion in which, when he was not present, people "old Jacked" him—this alone was enough to condemn64 a man of his years. Lastly, everybody knew that most of the Batchgrew family was of a piece with its head.
VI
Now Rachel had formed a prejudice against old Batchgrew. She had formed it, immutably65, in a single second of time. One glance at him in the street—and she had tried and condemned66 him, according to the summary justice of youth. She was in that stage of plenary and unhesitating wisdom when one not only can, but one must, divide the whole human race sharply into two categories, the sheep and the goats; and she had sentenced old Batchgrew to a place on the extreme left. It happened that she knew nothing against him. But she did not require evidence. She simply did "not like that man"—(she italicized the end of the phrase bitingly to herself)—and there was no appeal against the verdict. Angels could not have successfully interceded67 for him in the courts of her mind. He never guessed, in his aged58 self-sufficiency, that his case was hopeless with Rachel, nor even that the child had dared to have any opinion about him at all.
She was about to slip off the pinafore-apron and drop it on to the oak chest that stood in the lobby. But she thought with defiance68: "Why should I take my pinafore off for him? I won't. He shan't see my nice frock. Let him see my pinafore. I am an independent woman, earning my own living, and why should I be ashamed of my pinafore? My pinafore is good enough for him!" She also thought: "Let him wait!" and went off into the kitchen to get the modern appliance of the match for lighting the gas in the lobby. When she had lighted the gas she opened the front door with audacious but nervous deliberation, and the famous character impatiently walked straight in. He wore prominent loose black kid gloves and a thin black overcoat.
Looking coolly at her, he said—
"So you're the new lady companion, young miss! Well, I've heard rare accounts on ye—rare accounts on ye! Missis is in, I reckon?"
His voice was extremely low, rich, and heavy. It descended40 on the silence like a thick lubricating oil that only reluctantly abandons the curves in which it falls.
And Rachel answered, faintly, tremulously— "Yes."
No longer was she the independent woman, censorious and scornful, but a silly, timid little thing. Though she condemned herself savagely69 for school-girlishness, she could do nothing to arrest the swift change in her. The fact was, she was abashed70, partly by the legendary71 importance of the renowned72 Batchgrew, but more by his physical presence. His mere73 presence was always disturbing; for when he supervened into an environment he had always the air of an animal on a voyage of profitable discovery. His nose was an adventurous74, sniffing75 nose, a true nose, which exercised the original and proper functions of a nose noisily. His limbs were restless, his boots like hoofs76. His eyes were as restless as his limbs, and seemed ever to be seeking for something upon which they could definitely alight, and not finding it. He performed eructations with the disarming77 naturalness of a baby. He was tall but not stout78, and yet he filled the lobby; he was the sole fact in the lobby, and it was as though Rachel had to crush herself against the wall in order to make room for him.
His glance at Rachel now became inquisitive79, calculating, It seemed to be saying: "One day I may be able to make use of this piece of goods." But there was a certain careless good-humour in it, too. What he saw was a naïve young maid, with agreeable features, and a fine, fresh complexion80, and rather reddish hair. (He did not approve of the colour of the hair.) He found pleasure in regarding her, and in the perception that he had abashed her. Yes, he liked to see her timid and downcast before him. He was an old man, but like most old men—such as statesmen—who have lived constantly at the full pressure of following their noses, he was also a young man. He creaked, but he was not gravely impaired81.
"Is it Mr. Batchgrew?" Rachel softly murmured the unnecessary question, with one hand on the knob ready to open the sitting-room82 door.
He had flopped83 his stiff, flat-topped felt hat on the oak chest, and was taking off his overcoat. He paused and, lifting his chin—and his incredible white whiskers with it—gazed at Rachel almost steadily84 for a couple of seconds.
"It is," he said, as it were challengingly—"it is, young miss."
Then he finished removing his overcoat and thrust it roughly down on the hat.
Rachel blushed as she modestly turned the knob and pushed the door so that he might pass in front of her.
"Here's Mr. Batchgrew, Mrs. Maldon," she announced, feebly endeavouring to raise and clear her voice.
"Bless us!" The astonished exclamation85 of Mrs. Maldon was heard.
And Councillor Batchgrew, with his crimson86 shiny face, and the vermilion rims87 round his unsteady eyes, and his elephant ears, and the absurd streaming of his white whiskers, and his multitudinous noisiness, and his black kid gloves, strode half theatrically88 past her, sniffing.
To Rachel he was an object odious89, almost obscene. In truth, she had little mercy on old men in general, who as a class struck her as fussy90, ridiculous, and repulsive91. And beyond all the old men she had ever seen, she disliked Councillor Batchgrew. And about Councillor Batchgrew what she most detested92 was, perhaps strangely, his loose, wrinkled black kid gloves. They were ordinary, harmless black kid gloves, but she counted them against him as a supreme93 offence.
"Conceited94, self-conscious, horrid95 old brute96!" she thought, discreetly97 drawing the door to, and then going into the kitchen. "He's interested in nothing and nobody but himself." She felt protective towards Mrs. Maldon, that simpleton who apparently98 could not see through a John Batchgrew!... So Mrs. Maldon had been giving him good accounts of the new lady companion, had she!
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1
deigned
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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dawdled
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| v.混（时间）( dawdle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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perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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aloofness
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| 超然态度 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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bowler
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| n.打保龄球的人，（板球的）投（球）手 | |
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protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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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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plumber
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| n.(装修水管的)管子工 | |
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begetting
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| v.为…之生父( beget的现在分词 )；产生，引起 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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40
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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outraging
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| 引起…的义愤，激怒( outrage的现在分词 ) | |
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oligarchical
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| adj.寡头政治的，主张寡头政治的 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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48
plumbing
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| n.水管装置；水暖工的工作；管道工程v.用铅锤测量（plumb的现在分词）；探究 | |
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grandiose
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| adj.宏伟的，宏大的，堂皇的，铺张的 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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embellishing
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| v.美化( embellish的现在分词 )；装饰；修饰；润色 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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53
spout
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| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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expenditures
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| n.花费( expenditure的名词复数 )；使用；（尤指金钱的）支出额；（精力、时间、材料等的）耗费 | |
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56
intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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57
eyelid
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| n.眼睑，眼皮 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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inciting
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| 刺激的，煽动的 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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61
obituary
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| n.讣告，死亡公告；adj.死亡的 | |
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62
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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63
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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immutably
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| adv.不变地，永恒地 | |
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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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interceded
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| v.斡旋，调解( intercede的过去式和过去分词 )；说情 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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70
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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renowned
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| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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75
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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76
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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disarming
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| adj.消除敌意的，使人消气的v.裁军( disarm的现在分词 )；使息怒 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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81
impaired
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| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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83
flopped
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| v.（指书、戏剧等）彻底失败( flop的过去式和过去分词 )；（因疲惫而）猛然坐下；（笨拙地、不由自主地或松弛地）移动或落下；砸锅 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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86
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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87
rims
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| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
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theatrically
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| adv.戏剧化地 | |
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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90
fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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92
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest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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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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