"Mrs. Tams!" said Mrs. Maldon, in a low, alarmed, and urgent voice.
The gas was turned down in the bedroom, and Mrs. Maldon, looking from her bed across the chamber1, could only just distinguish the stout2, vague form of the charwoman asleep in an arm-chair. The light from the street lamp was strong enough to throw faint shadows of the window-frames on the blinds. The sleeper3 did not stir.
Mrs. Maldon summoned again, more loudly—
"Mrs. Tams!"
And Mrs. Tams, starting out of another world, replied with deprecation—
Mrs. Maldon said agitatedly—
"I've just heard the front door open. I'm sure whoever it was was trying not to make a noise. There! Can't you hear anything?"
"That I canna'!" said Mrs. Tams.
"No!" Mrs. Maldon protested, as Mrs. Tams approached the gas to raise it. "Don't touch the gas. If anybody's got in let them think we're asleep."
The mystery of the vanished money and the fear of assassins seemed suddenly to oppress the very air of the room. Mrs. Maldon was leaning on one elbow in her bed.
Mrs. Tams said to her in a whisper—
"I mun go see."
"I mun go see," said Mrs. Tams.
She was afraid, but she conceived that she ought to examine the house, and no fear could have stopped her from going forth6 into the zone of danger.
The next moment she gave a short laugh, and said in her ordinary tone—
"Bless us! I shall be forgetting the nose on my face next. It's Miss Rachel coming in, of course."
"Miss Rachel coming in!" repeated Mrs. Maldon. "Has she been out? I was not aware. She said nothing—"
"Her came up a bit since, and said her had to do some shopping."
"Shopping! At this time of night!" murmured Mrs. Maldon.
Said Mrs. Tams laconically—
"To-morrow's Sunday—and pray God ye'll fancy a bite o' summat tasty."
While the two old women, equalized in rank by the fact of Mrs. Maldon's illness, by the sudden alarm, and by the darkness of the room, were thus conversing7, sounds came from the pavement through the slightly open windows—voices, and the squeak8 of the gate roughly pushed open.
"That's Miss Rachel now," said Mrs. Tams.
"Then who was it came in before?" Mrs. Maldon demanded.
Mrs. Tams went to the window and pulled aside the blind.
"Aye!" she announced simply. "It's Miss Rachel and Mr. Fores."
Mrs. Maldon caught her breath.
"You didn't tell me she was out with Mr. Fores," said Mrs. Maldon, stiffly but weakly.
"It's first I knew of it," Mrs. Tams replied, still spying over the pavement. "He's given her th' key. There! He's gone."
Mrs. Maldon muttered—
"The key? What key?"
"Th' latch-key belike."
"I must speak to Miss Rachel," breathed Mrs. Maldon in a voice of extreme and painful apprehension10.
The front door closing sent a vibration11 through the bedroom. Mrs. Tarns12 hesitated an instant, and then raised the gas. Mrs. Maldon lay with shut eyes on her left side and gave no sign of consciousness. Light footsteps could be heard on the stairs.
"I'll go see," said Mrs. Tams.
In the heart of the aged13 woman exanimate on the bed, and in the heart of the aging woman whose stout, coarse arm was still raised to the gas-tap, were the same sentiments of wonder, envy, and pity, aroused by the enigmatic actions of a younger generation going its perilous14, instinctive15 ways to keep the race alive.
Mrs. Tarns lighted a benzolene hand-lamp at the gas, and silently left the bedroom. She still somewhat feared an unlawful invader16, but the arrival of Rachel had reassured17 her. Preceded by the waving little flame, she passed Rachel's door, which was closed, and went downstairs. Every mysterious room on the ground floor was in order and empty. No sign of an invasion. Through the window of the kitchen she saw the fresh cutlets under a wire cover in the scullery; and on the kitchen table were the tin of pineapple and the tin of cocoa, with the reticule near by. All doors that ought to be fastened were fastened. She remounted the stairs and blew out the lamp on the threshold of the mistress's bedroom. And as she did so she could hear Rachel winding20 up her alarm-clock in quick jerks, and the light shone bright like a silver rod under Rachel's door.
"Her's gone reet to bed," said Mrs. Tams softly, by the bedside of Mrs. Maldon. "Ye've no cause for to worrit yerself. I've looked over th' house."
Mrs. Maldon was fast asleep.
Mrs. Tams lowered the gas and resumed her chair, and the street lamp once more threw the shadows of the window-frames on the blinds.
II
The next day Mrs. Tams, who had been appointed to sleep in the spare room, had to exist under the blight21 of Rachel's chill disapproval22 because she had not slept in the spare room—nor in any bed at all. The arrangement had been that Mrs. Tams should retire at 4 a.m., Rachel taking her place with Mrs. Maldon. Mrs. Tams had not retired23 at 4 a.m. because Rachel had not taken her place.
As a fact, Rachel had been wakened by a bang of the front door, at 10.30 a.m. only. Her first glance at the alarm-clock on her dressing-table was incredulous. And she refused absolutely to believe that the hour was so late. Yet the alarm-clock was giving its usual sturdy, noisy tick, and the sun was high. Then she refused to believe that the alarm had gone off, and in order to remain firm in her belief she refrained from any testing of the mechanism24, which might—indeed, would—have proved that the alarm had in fact gone off. It became with her an article of dogma that on that particular morning, of all mornings, the very reliable alarm-clock had failed in its duty. The truth was that she had lain awake till nearly three o'clock, turning from side to side and thinking bitterly upon the imperfections of human nature, and had then fallen into a deep, invigorating sleep from which perhaps half a dozen alarm-clocks might not have roused her.
She arose full of health and anger, and in a few minutes she was out of the bedroom, for she had not fully undressed; like many women, when there was watching to be done, she loved to keep her armour25 on and to feel the exciting strain of the unusual in every movement. She fell on Mrs. Tams as Mrs. Tams was coming upstairs after letting out the doctor and refreshing26 herself with cocoa in the kitchen. A careless observer might have thought from their respective attitudes that it was Mrs. Tarns, and not Rachel, who had overslept herself. Rachel divided the blame between the alarm-clock and Mrs. Tams for not wakening her; indeed, she seemed to consider herself the victim of a conspiracy27 between Mrs. Tams and the alarm-clock. She explicitly28 blamed Mrs. Tams for allowing the doctor to come and go without her knowledge. Even the doctor did not get off scot-free, for he ought to have asked for Rachel and insisted on seeing her.
She examined Mrs. Tams about the invalid29's health as a lawyer examines a hostile witness. And when Mrs. Tams said that the invalid had slept, and was sleeping, stertorously31 in an unaccountable manner, and hinted that the doctor was not undisturbed by the new symptom and meant to call again later on, Rachel's tight-lipped mien32 indicated that this might not have occurred if only Mrs. Tams had fulfilled her obvious duty of wakening Rachel. Though she was hungry, she scornfully repulsed33 the suggestion of breakfast. Mrs. Tams, thoroughly34 accustomed to such behaviour in the mighty35, accepted it as she accepted the weather. But if she had had to live through the night again—after all, a quite tolerable night—she would still not have wakened Rachel at 4 a.m.
Rachel softened36 as the day passed. She ate a good dinner at one o'clock, with Mrs. Tams in the kitchen, one or the other mounting at short intervals37 to see if Mrs. Maldon had stirred. Then she changed into her second-best frock, in anticipation38 of the doctor's Sunday afternoon visit, strictly39 commanded Mrs. Tams (but with relenting kindness in her voice) to go and lie down, and established herself neatly40 in the sick-room.
Though her breathing had become noiseless again, Mrs. Maldon still slept. She had wakened only once since the previous night. She lay calm and dignified41 in slumber—an old and devastated42 woman, with that disconcerting resemblance to a corpse43 shown by all aged people asleep, but yet with little sign of positive illness save the slight distortion of her features caused by the original attack. Rachel sat idle, prim44, in vague reflection, at intervals smoothing her petticoat, or giving a faint cough, or gazing at the mild blue September sky. She might have been reading a book, but she was not by choice a reader. She had the rare capacity of merely existing. Her thoughts flitted to and fro, now resting on Mrs. Maldon with solemnity, now on Mrs. Tams with amused benevolence46, now on old Batchgrew with lofty disgust, and now on Louis Fores with unquiet curiosity and delicious apprehension.
She gave a little shudder48 of fright and instantly controlled it—Mrs. Maldon, instead of being asleep, was looking at her. She rose and went to the bedside and stood over the sick woman, by the pillow, benignly49, asking with her eyes what desire of the sufferer's she might fulfil. And Mrs. Maldon looked up at her with another benignity50. And they both smiled.
"You've slept very well," said Rachel softly.
Mrs. Maldon, continuing to smile, gave a scarcely perceptible affirmative movement of the head.
"Will you have some of your Revalenta? I've only got to warm it, here. Everything's ready."
"Nothing, thank you, dear," said Mrs. Maldon, in a firm, matter-of-fact voice.
The doctor had left word that food was not to be forced on her.
"Do you feel better?"
"My dear, I shall never feel any better than I do now."
"Oh, you mustn't talk like that!" said Rachel in gay protest.
"I want to talk to you, Rachel," said Mrs. Maldon, once more reassuringly52 matter-of-fact. "Sit down there."
Rachel obediently perched herself on the bed, and bent53 her head. And her face, which was now much closer to Mrs. Maldon's, expressed the gravity which Mrs. Maldon would wish, and also the affectionate condescension54 of youth towards age, and of health towards infirmity. And as almost unconsciously she exulted55 in her own youth, and strength, delicate little poniards of tragic56 grief for Mrs. Maldon's helpless and withered57 senility seemed to stab through that personal pride. The shiny, veined right hand of the old woman emerged from under the bedclothes and closed with hot, fragile grasp on Rachel's hand.
Within the impeccable orderliness of the bedroom was silence; and beyond was the vast Sunday afternoon silence of the district, producing the sensation of surcease, re-creating the impressive illusion of religion even out of the brutish irreligion that was bewailed from pulpits to empty pews in all the temples of all the Five Towns. Only the smoke waving slowly through the clean-washed sky from a few high chimneys over miles of deserted58 manufactories made a link between Saturday and Monday.
"I've something I want to say to you," said Mrs. Maldon, in that deceptive59 matter-of-fact voice. "I wanted to tell you yesterday afternoon, but I couldn't. And then again last night, but I went off to sleep."
"Yes?" murmured Rachel, duped by Mrs. Maldon's manner into perfect security. She was thinking: "What's the poor old thing got into her head now? Is it something fresh about the money?"
"It's about yourself," said Mrs. Maldon.
Rachel exclaimed impulsively—
"What about me?"
She could feel a faint vibration in Mrs. Maldon's hand.
"I want you not to see so much of Louis."
Rachel was shocked and insulted. She straightened her spine60 and threw back her head sharply. But she dared not by force withdraw her hand from Mrs. Maldon's. Moreover, Mrs. Maldon's clasp tightened61 almost convulsively.
"I suppose Mr. Batchgrew's been up here telling tales while I was asleep," Rachel expostulated, hotly and her demeanour was at once pouting62, sulky, and righteously offended.
Mrs. Maldon was puzzled.
"This morning, do you mean, dear?" she asked.
Tears stood in Rachel's eyes. She could not speak, but she nodded her head. And then another sentence burst from her full breast: "And you told Mrs. Tams she wasn't to tell me Mr. Batchgrew'd called!"
"I've not seen or heard anything of Mr. Batchgrew," said Mrs. Maldon. "But I did hear you and Louis talking outside last night."
The information startled Rachel.
"Well, and what if you did, Mrs. Maldon?" she defended herself. Her foot tapped on the floor. She was obliged to defend herself, and with care. Mrs. Maldon's tranquillity63, self-control, immense age and experience, superior deportment, extreme weakness, and the respect which she inspired, compelled the girl to intrench warily64, instead of carrying off the scene in one stormy outburst of resentment65 as theoretically she might have done.
Mrs. Maldon said, cajolingly, flatteringly—
"My dear, do be your sensible self and listen to me."
It then occurred to Rachel that during the last day or so (the period seemed infinitely66 longer) she had been losing, not her common sense, but her immediate67 command of that faculty68, of which she was, privately69, very proud. And she braced70 her being, reaching up towards her own conception of herself, towards the old invulnerable Rachel Louisa Fleckring. At any cost she must keep her reputation for common sense with Mrs. Maldon.
And so she set a watch on her gestures, and moderated her voice, secretly yielding to the benevolence of the old lady, and said, in the tone of a wise and kind woman of the world and an incarnation of profound sagacity—
"What do I see of Mr. Fores, Mrs. Maldon? I see nothing of Mr. Fores, or hardly. I'm your lady help, and he's your nephew—at least, he's your great-nephew, and it's your house he comes to. I can't help being in the house, can I? If you're thinking about last night, well, Mr. Fores called to see how you were getting on, and I was just going out to do some shopping. He walked down with me. I suppose I needn't tell you I didn't ask him to walk down with me. He asked me. I couldn't hardly say no, could I? And there were some parcels and he walked back with me."
She felt so wise and so clever and the narrative71 seemed so entirely72 natural, proper, and inevitable73 that she was tempted74 to continue—
"And supposing we did go into a cinematograph for a minute or two—what then?"
But she had no courage for the confession75. As a wise woman she perceived the advisability of letting well alone. Moreover, she hated confessions76, remorse77, and gnashing of teeth.
And Mrs. Maldon regarded her worldly and mature air, with its touch of polite condescension, as both comic and tragic, and thought sadly of all the girl would have to go through before the air of mature worldliness which she was now affecting could become natural to her.
"My dear," said Mrs. Maldon, "I have perfect confidence in you." It was not quite true, because Rachel's protest as to Mr. Batchgrew, seeming to point to strange concealed78 incidents, had most certainly impaired79 the perfection of Mrs. Maiden's confidence in Rachel.
Rachel considered that she ought to pursue her advantage, and in a voice light and yet firm, good-natured and yet restive80, she said—
"I really don't think anybody has the right to talk to me about Mr. Fores.... No, truly I don't."
"You mustn't misunderstand me, Rachel," Mrs. Maldon replied, and her other hand crept out, and stroked Rachel's captive hand. "I am only saying to you what it is my duty to say to you—or to any other young woman that comes to live in my house. You're a young woman, and Louis is a young man. I'm making no complaint. But it's my duty to warn you against my nephew."
"But, Mrs. Maldon, I didn't know either him or you a month ago!"
Mrs. Maldon, ignoring the interruption, proceeded quietly—
"My nephew is not to be trusted."
Her aged face slowly flushed as in that single brief sentence she overthrew81 the grand principle of a lifetime. She who never spoke82 ill of anybody had spoken ill of one of her own family.
"But—" Rachel stopped. She was frightened by the appearance of the flush on those devastated yellow cheeks, and by a quiver in the feeble voice and in the clasping hand. She could divine the ordeal83 which Mrs. Maldon had set herself and through which she had passed. Mrs. Maldon carried conviction, and in so doing she inspired awe84. And on the top of all Rachel felt profoundly and exquisitely85 flattered by the immolation86 of Mrs. Maiden's pride.
"The money—it has something to do with that!" thought Rachel.
"My nephew is not to be trusted," said Mrs. Maldon again. "I know all his good points. But the woman who married him would suffer horribly—horribly!"
"I'm so sorry you've had to say this," said Rachel, very kindly87. "But I assure you that there's nothing at all, nothing whatever, between Mr. Fores and me." And in that instant she genuinely believed that there was not. She accepted Mrs. Maldon's estimate of Louis. And further, and perhaps illogically, she had the feeling of having escaped from a fatal danger. She expected Mrs. Maldon to agree eagerly that there was nothing between herself and Louis, and to reiterate88 her perfect confidence. But, instead, Mrs. Maldon, apparently89 treating Rachel's assurance as negligible, continued with an added solemnity—
"I shall only live a little while longer—a very little while." The contrast between this and her buoyant announcement on the previous day that she was not going to die just yet was highly disturbing, but Rachel could not protest or even speak. "A very little while!" repeated Mrs. Maldon reflectively. "I've not known you long—as you say—Rachel. But I've never seen a girl I liked more, if you don't mind me telling you. I've never seen a girl I thought better of. And I don't think I could die in peace if I thought Louis was going to cause you any trouble after I'm gone. No, I couldn't die in peace if I thought that."
And Rachel, intimately moved, thought: "She has saved me from something dreadful!" (Without trying to realize precisely91 from what.) "How splendid she is!"
And she cast out from her mind all the multitudinous images of Louis Fores that were there. And, full of affection, and flattered pride and gratitude92 and childlike admiration93, she bent down and rewarded the old woman who had so confided94 in her with a priceless girlish kiss. And she had the sensation of beginning a new life.
III
And yet, a few moments later, when Mrs. Maldon faintly murmured, "Some one at the front door," Rachel grew at once uneasy, and the new life seemed an illusion—either too fine to be true or too leaden to be desired; and she was swaying amid uncertainties95. Perhaps Louis was at the front door. He had not yet called; but surely he was bound to call some time during the day! Of the dozen different Rachels in Rachel, one adventurously96 hoped that he would come, and another feared that he would come; one ruled him sharply out of the catalogue of right-minded persons, and another was ready passionately97 to defend him.
"I think not," said Rachel.
"Yes, dear; I heard some one," Mrs. Maldon insisted.
Mrs. Maldon, long practised in reconstructing the life of the street from trifling99 hints of sound heard in bed, was not mistaken. Rachel, opening the door of the bedroom, caught the last tinkling100 of the front-door bell below. On the other side of the front door somebody was standing—Louis Fores, or another!
"It may be the doctor," she said brightly, as she left the bedroom. The coward in her wanted it to be the doctor. But, descending101 the stairs, she could see plainly through the glass that Louis himself was at the front door. The Rachel that feared was instantly uppermost in her. She was conscious of dread90. From the breathless sinking within her bosom102 the stairs might have been the deck of a steamer pitching in a heavy sea.
She thought—
"Here is the Louis to whom I am indifferent. There is nothing between us, really. But shall I have strength to open the door to him?"
She opened the door, with the feeling that the act was tremendous and irrevocable.
The street, in the Sabbatic sunshine, was as calm as at midnight. Louis Fores, stiff and constrained103, stood strangely against the background of it. The unusualness of his demeanour, which was plain to the merest glance, increased Rachel's agitation104. It appeared to Rachel that the two of them faced each other like wary105 enemies. She tried to examine his face in the light of Mrs. Maldon's warning, as though it were the face of a stranger; but without much success.
"Is auntie well enough for me to see her?" asked Louis, without greeting or preliminary of any sort. His voice was imperfectly under control.
Rachel replied curtly—
"I dare say she is."
To herself she said—
"Of course if he's going to sulk about last night—well, he must sulk. Really and truly he got much less than he deserved. He had no business at all to have suggested me going to the cinematograph with him. The longer he sulks the better I shall be pleased."
And in fact she was relieved at his sullenness106. She tossed her proud head, but with primness107. And she fervently108 credited to the full Mrs. Maldon's solemn insinuations against the disturber.
Louis hesitated a second, then stepped in. Rachel marched processionally upstairs, and with the detachment of a footman announced to Mrs. Maldon that Mr. Fores waited below. "Oh, please bring him up," said Mrs. Maldon, with a mild and casual benevolence that surprised the girl; for Rachel, in the righteous ferocity of her years, vaguely109 thought that an adverse110 moral verdict ought to be swiftly followed by something in the nature of annihilation.
"Will you please come up," she invited Louis, from the head of the stairs, adding privately—"I can be as stiff as you can—and stiffer. How mistaken I was in you!"
She preceded him into the bedroom, and then with ostentatious formality left aunt and nephew together. Nobody should ever say any more that she encouraged the attentions of Louis Fores.
"What is the matter, dear?" Mrs. Maldon inquired from her bed, perceiving the signs of emotion on Louis' face.
"Has Mr. Batchgrew been here yet?" Louis demanded.
"No. Is he coming?"
"Yes, he's just been to my digs. Came in his car. Auntie, do you know that he's accusing me of stealing your money—and—and—all sorts of things! I don't want to hide anything from you. It's true I was with Rachel at the cinematograph last night, but—"
Mrs. Maldon raised her enfeebled, shaking hand.
"I know it's a shame to bother you, auntie. But what was I to do? He's coming up here. I only want to tell you I've not got your money. I've not stolen it. I'm absolutely innocent—absolutely. And I'll swear it on anything you like." His voice almost broke under the strain of its own earnestness. His plaintive112 eyes invoked113 justice and protection. Who could have doubted that he was sincere in this passionate98, wistful protestation of innocence114?
"Louis!" Mrs. Maldon entreated again, committing herself to naught115, taking no side, but finding shelter beneath the enigmatic, appealing repetition of his name. It was the final triumph of age over crude youth. "Louis!"
IV
Rachel stood expectant and watchful116 in the kitchen. She was now filled with dread. She wanted to go up and waken Mrs. Tams, but was too proud. The thought had come into her mind: "His coming like this has something to do with the money. Perhaps he wasn't sulking with me after all. Perhaps ..." But what it was that she dreaded117 she could not have defined. And then she caught the sound of an approaching automobile118. The car threw its shadow across the glazed119 front door, which she commanded from the kitchen, and stopped. And the front-door bell rang uncannily over her head. She opened the door to Councillor Batchgrew, whose breathing was irregular and rapid.
"Has Louis Fores been here?" Batchgrew asked.
"He's upstairs now with Mrs. Maldon."
Without warning, Thomas Batchgrew strode into the house and straight upstairs. His long whiskers sailed round the turn of the stairs and disappeared. Rachel was somewhat discomfited120, and very resentful. But her dread was not thereby121 diminished. "They'll kill the old lady between them if they don't take care," she thought.
The next instant Louis appeared at the head of the stairs. With astounding122 celerity Rachel slipped into the parlour. She could not bear to encounter him in the lobby—it was too narrow. She heard Louis come down the stairs, saw him take his hat from the oak chest and heard him open the front gate. In the lobby he had looked neither to right nor left. "How do, Ernest!" she heard him greet the amateur chauffeur-in-chief of the Batchgrew family. His footfalls on the pavement died away into the general silence of the street. Overhead she could hear old Batchgrew walking to and fro. Without reflection she went upstairs and hovered123 near the door of Mrs. Maldon's bedroom. She said to herself that she was not eavesdropping124. She listened, while pretending not to listen, but there was no sign of conversation within the room. And then she very distinctly heard old Batchgrew exclaim—
"And they go gallivanting off together to the cinema!"
Upon which ensued another silence.
Rachel flushed with shame, fury, and apprehension. She hated Batchgrew, and Louis, and all gross masculine invaders125.
The mysterious silence within the room persisted. And then old Batchgrew violently opened the door and glared at Rachel. He showed no surprise at seeing her there on the landing.
"Ye'd better keep an eye on missis," he said gruffly. "She's gone to sleep seemingly."
And with no other word he departed.
Before the car had given its warning hoot126 Rachel was at Mrs. Maldon's side. The old lady lay in all tranquillity on her left arm. She was indeed asleep, or she was in a stupor127, and the peculiar stertorous30 noise of her breathing had recommenced.
Rachel's vague dread vanished as she gazed at the worn features, and gave place to a new and definite fright.
"They have killed her!" she muttered.
And she ran into the next room and called Mrs. Tams.
"Who's below?" asked Mrs. Tarns, as, wide awake, she came out on to the landing.
"Nobody," said Rachel. "They've gone."
But the doctor was below. Mr. Batchgrew had left the front door open.
"What a good thing!" cried Rachel.
In the bedroom Dr. Yardley, speaking with normal loudness, just as though Mrs. Maldon had not been present, said to Rachel—
"I expected this this morning. There's nothing to be done. If you try to give her food she'll only get it into the lung. It's very improbable that she'll regain128 consciousness."
"But are you sure, doctor?" Rachel asked.
The doctor answered grimly—
"No, I'm not—I'm never sure. She may recover."
"She's been rather disturbed this afternoon."
The doctor lifted his shoulders.
"That's got nothing to do with it," said he. "As I told you, she's had an embolus in one artery129 of the brain. It lessened130 at first for a bit—they do sometimes—and now it's enlarging, that's all. Nothing external could affect it either way."
V
Her chief sensation that evening was that she was alone, for Mrs. Tams was not a companion, but a slave. She was alone with a grave and strange responsibility, which she could not evade132. Indeed, events had occurred in such a manner as to make her responsibility seem natural and inevitable, to give it the sanction of the most correct convention. Between 4.30 and 6 in the afternoon four separate calls of inquiry133 had been made at the house, thus demonstrating Mrs. Maldon's status in the town. One lady had left a fine bunch of grapes. To all these visitors Rachel had said the same things, namely, that Mrs. Maldon had been better on the Saturday, but was worse; that the case was very serious; that the doctor had been twice that day and was coming again, that Councillor Batchgrew was fully informed and had seen the patient; that Mr. Louis Fores, Mrs. Maldon's only near relative in England, was constantly in and out; that she herself had the assistance of Mrs. Tams, who was thoroughly capable, and that while she was much obliged for offers of help, she could think of no way of utilizing134 them.
So that when the door closed on the last of the callers, Rachel, who a month earlier had never even seen Mrs. Maldon, was left in sole rightful charge of the dying-bed. And there was no escape for her. She could not telegraph—the day being Sunday. Moreover, except Thomas Batchgrew, there was nobody to whom she might telegraph. And she did not want Mr. Batchgrew. Though Mr. Batchgrew certainly had not guessed the relapse, she felt no desire whatever to let him have news. She hated his blundering intrusions; and in spite of the doctor's statements she would insist to herself that he and Louis between them had somehow brought about the change in Mrs. Maldon. Of course she might fetch Louis. She did not know his exact address, but he could be discovered. At any rate, Mrs. Tams might be sent for him. But she could not bring herself to make any advance towards Louis.
At a little after six o'clock, when the rare chapel-goers had ceased to pass, and the still rarer church-goers were beginning to respond to distant bells, Mrs. Tams informed her that tea was ready for her in the parlour, and she descended135 and took tea, utterly136 alone. Mrs. Tams had lighted the fire, and had moved the table comfortably towards the fire—act of astounding initiative and courage, in itself a dramatic proof that Mrs. Maldon no longer reigned137 at Bycars. Tea finished, Rachel returned to the sick-room, where there was nothing whatever to do except watch the minutes recede19. She thought of her father and brother in America.
Then Mrs. Tams, who had been clearing away the tea-things, came into the bedroom and said—
"Here's Mr. Fores, miss."
Rachel started.
"Mr. Fores! What does he want?" she asked querulously.
"He asked for you, miss."
"Didn't he ask how Mrs. Maldon is?"
"No, miss."
"Well, I don't want to see him. You might run down and tell him what the doctor said, Mrs. Tams." She tried to make her voice casually139 persuasive140.
"Shall I, miss?" said Miss Tams doubtfully, and turned to the door.
Rachel was again full of fear and resentment. Louis had committed the infamy141 of luring142 her into the cinematograph. It was through him that she had "got herself talked about." Mrs. Maldon's last words had been a warning against him. He and Mr. Batchgrew had desecrated143 the sick-room with their mysterious visitations. And now Louis was come again. From what catastrophes144 had not Mrs. Maldon's warning saved her!
"Here! I'll go," said Rachel, in a sudden resolve.
"I'm glad on it," said Mrs. Tams simply.
In the parlour Louis stood in front of the fire. Although the blinds were drawn145, the gas had not been lighted; but the fire and the powerful street lamp together sufficed to give clearness to every object in the room. The table had been restored to its proper situation. The gift of grapes ornamented146 the sideboard.
"Good-evening," said Rachel sullenly147, as if pouting. She avoided looking at Louis, and sat down on the Chesterfield.
"I say, I'm most awfully149 sorry. I hadn't the faintest notion this afternoon she was any worse—not the faintest. Otherwise I shouldn't have dreamt—I met the doctor just now in Moorthorne Road, and he told me."
"Well, he gave me to understand there's very little hope, and nothing to be done. If I'd had the faintest notion—"
"You needn't worry about that," said Rachel. "Your coming made no difference. The doctor said so." And she asked herself why she should go out of her way to reassure18 Louis. It would serve him right to think that his brusque visit, with Mr. Batchgrew's, was the origin of the relapse.
"Is there any change?" Louis asked.
Rachel shook her head "No," she said. "We just have to sit and watch."
"Doctor's coming in again to-night, isn't he?"
Rachel nodded.
"It seems it's an embolus."
Rachel nodded once more. She had still no conception of what an embolus was; but she naturally assumed that Louis could define an embolus with exactitude.
"I say," said Louis, and his voice was suddenly charged with magical qualities of persuasion151, entreaty152, and sincerity—"I say, you might look at me."
She flushed, but she looked up at him. She might have sat straight and remarked: "Mr. Fores, what do you mean by talking to me like that?" But she raised her eyes and her crimson153 cheeks for one timid instant, and dropped them. His voice had overcome her. With a single phrase, with a mere45 inflection, he had changed the key of the interview. And the glance at him had exposed her to the appeal of his face, more powerful than ten thousand logical arguments and warnings. His face proved that he was a sympathetic, wistful, worried fellow-creature—and miraculously154, uniquely handsome. His face in the twilight155 was the most romantic face that Rachel had ever seen. His gestures had a celestial156 charm.
He said—
"I know I ought to apologize for the way I came in this afternoon. I do. But if you knew what cause I had ...! Would you believe that old Batch47 had come to my place, and practically accused me of stealing the old lady's money—stealing it!"
"Never!" Rachel murmured.
"Yes, he did. The fact is, he knew jolly well he'd no business to have left it in the house that night, so he wanted to get out of it by making me suffer. You know he's always been down on me. Well, I came straight up here and I told auntie. Of course I couldn't make a fuss, with her ill in bed. So I simply told her I hadn't got her money and I hadn't stolen it, and I left it at that. I thought the less said the better. But I had to say that much. I wonder what Julian would have said if he'd been accused. I just wonder!" He repeated the word, queerly evocative: "Julian!"
"What did Mrs. Maldon say?" Rachel asked.
"Well, she didn't say much. She believed me, naturally. And then old Batch came. I wasn't going to have a regular scene with him up there, so I left. I thought that was the only dignified thing to do. I wanted to tell you, and I've told you. Don't you think it's a shame?"
Rachel answered passionately—
"I do."
She answered thus because she had a tremendous desire to answer thus. To herself she said: "Do I?... Yes, I do." Louis' eyes drew sympathy out of her. It seemed to her to be of the highest importance that those appealing eyes should not appeal in vain.
"Item, he made a fearful fuss about you and me being at the cinema last night."
"I should like to know what it's got to do with him!" said Rachel, almost savagely157. The word "item" puzzled her. Not understanding it, she thought she had misheard.
"That's what I thought, too," said Louis, and added, very gravely: "At the same time I'm really awfully sorry. Perhaps I oughtn't to have asked you. It was my fault. But old Batch would make the worst of anything."
"Mr. Batchgrew ought to be ashamed. You weren't to blame, and I won't hear of it!"
Louis started forward with a sudden movement of the left arm.
"You're magnificent," he said, with emotion.
Rachel trembled, and shut her eyes. She heard his voice again, closer to her, repeating with even greater emotion: "You're magnificent." Tears were in her eyes. Through them she looked at him. And his form was so graceful159, his face so nice, so exquisitely kind and lovable and loving, that her admiration became intense, even to the point of pain. She thought of Batchgrew, not with hate, but with pity. He was a monster, but he could not help it. He alone was responsible for all slanders160 against Louis. He alone had put Mrs. Maldon against Louis. Louis was obviously the most innocent of beings. Mrs. Maiden's warning, "The woman who married him would suffer horribly," was manifestly absurd. "Suffer horribly"—what a stinging phrase, like a needle broken in a wound! She felt tired and weak, above all tired of loneliness.
His hand was on hers. She trembled anew. She was not Rachel, but some new embodiment of surrender and acquiescence161. And the change was delicious, fearful.... She thought: "I could die for him." She forgot that a few minutes before she had been steeling herself against him. She wanted him to kiss her, and waited an eternity162. And when he had kissed her, and she was in a maze163 of rapture164, a tiny idea shaped itself clearly in her mind for an instant: "This is wrong. But I don't care. He is mine"—and then melted like a cloud in a burning sky. And a sense of the miraculousness165 of destiny overcame her. In two days had happened enough for two years. It was staggering to think that only two days earlier she had been dreaming of him as of a star. Could so much, indeed, happen in two days? She imagined blissfully, in her ignorance of human experience, that her case was without precedent166. Nay167, her case appalled168 her in the rapidity of its development! And was thereby the more thrilling! She thought again: "Yes, I could die for him—and I would!" He was still the star, but—such was the miracle—she clasped him.
They heard Mrs. Tams knocking at the door. Nothing would ever cure the charwoman's habit of knocking before entering. Rachel arose from the sofa as out of a bush of blossoms. And in the artless, honest glance of her virginity and her simplicity169, her eyes seemed to say to Mrs. Tams: "Behold170 the phoenix171 among men! He is to be my husband." Her pride in the strange, wondrous172, incredible state of being affianced was tremendous, to the tragic point.
"Can ye hear, begging yer pardon?" said Mrs. Tams, pointing through the open door and upward. "Her's just begun to breathe o' that'n [like that]."
The loud, stertorous sound of Mrs. Maldon unconsciously drawing the final breaths of life filled the whole house. Louis and Rachel glanced at each other, scared, shamed, even horrified173, to discover that the vast pendulum174 of the universe was still solemnly ticking through their ecstasy175.
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1
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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8
squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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9
squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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tarns
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| n.冰斗湖，山中小湖( tarn的名词复数 ) | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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14
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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15
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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invader
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| n.侵略者，侵犯者，入侵者 | |
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17
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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18
reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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19
recede
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| vi.退(去)，渐渐远去；向后倾斜，缩进 | |
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20
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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21
blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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27
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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28
explicitly
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| ad.明确地，显然地 | |
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29
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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30
stertorous
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| adj.打鼾的 | |
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31
stertorously
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32
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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33
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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34
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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36
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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37
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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38
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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39
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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40
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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41
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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42
devastated
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| v.彻底破坏( devastate的过去式和过去分词)；摧毁；毁灭；在感情上（精神上、财务上等）压垮adj.毁坏的；极为震惊的 | |
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43
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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44
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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45
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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46
benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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47
batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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48
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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49
benignly
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| adv.仁慈地，亲切地 | |
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50
benignity
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| n.仁慈 | |
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51
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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52
reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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53
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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54
condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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55
exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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57
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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58
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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59
deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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60
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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61
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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62
pouting
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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63
tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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64
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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66
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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67
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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68
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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69
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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70
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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71
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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72
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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73
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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74
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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75
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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76
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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77
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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78
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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79
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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80
restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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81
overthrew
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| overthrow的过去式 | |
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82
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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83
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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84
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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85
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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86
immolation
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| n.牺牲品 | |
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87
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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88
reiterate
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| v.重申，反复地说 | |
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89
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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90
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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91
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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92
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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93
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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94
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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95
uncertainties
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| 无把握( uncertainty的名词复数 )； 不确定； 变化不定； 无把握、不确定的事物 | |
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96
adventurously
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| adv.爱冒险地 | |
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97
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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98
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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99
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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100
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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101
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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102
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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103
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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104
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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105
wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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106
sullenness
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| n. 愠怒, 沉闷, 情绪消沉 | |
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107
primness
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| n.循规蹈矩，整洁 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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109
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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110
adverse
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| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
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111
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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112
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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113
invoked
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| v.援引( invoke的过去式和过去分词 )；行使（权利等）；祈求救助；恳求 | |
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114
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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115
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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116
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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117
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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118
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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119
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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121
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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123
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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124
eavesdropping
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| n. 偷听 | |
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125
invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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hoot
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| n.鸟叫声，汽车的喇叭声； v.使汽车鸣喇叭 | |
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127
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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128
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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129
artery
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| n.干线，要道；动脉 | |
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130
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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131
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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132
evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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133
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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134
utilizing
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| v.利用，使用( utilize的现在分词 ) | |
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135
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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136
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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137
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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138
blandness
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| n.温柔，爽快 | |
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139
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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luring
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的现在分词形式） | |
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143
desecrated
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| 毁坏或亵渎( desecrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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catastrophes
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| n.灾祸( catastrophe的名词复数 )；灾难；不幸事件；困难 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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cascade
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| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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151
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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152
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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153
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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154
miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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155
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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156
celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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157
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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158
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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159
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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160
slanders
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| 诽谤，诋毁( slander的名词复数 ) | |
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161
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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162
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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163
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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164
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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165
miraculousness
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| 神” | |
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166
precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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167
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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168
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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169
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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170
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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171
phoenix
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| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
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172
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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173
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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174
pendulum
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| n.摆，钟摆 | |
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175
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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