When Athlyne went out of the garden he had evidently made up his mind, consciously or unconsciously, to some other point in connection with the motor for he visited such shops as were open and made some purchases—caps, veils, cloaks and such like gear suitable for the use of a tall young lady. These he took with him in a hired carriage to the hotel at Bowness, where he added them to certain others already sent from London. Then he told the chauffeur5 to give the car a careful overhauling6 so that it be in perfect order, and went for a stroll up the Lake.
Shortly he was in a mental and physical tumult7; the period which had elapsed since he heard the news of Colonel Ogilvie’s coming departure had been but the prelude8 to the storm. At first he could not think; he had no words, no sequence of ideas, not even vague intentions. He had only sensations; and these though they moved and concentrated every nerve in his body were without even physical purpose. He went like one in a dream. But in the background of his mind was a fact which stood out firm and solid like the profile of a mountain seen against the glow of a western sunset. Joy would be alone to-morrow; the opportunity he waited for was at last at hand! The recognition of this seemed to pull him together, to set all his faculties9 working simultaneously10; and as each had a different method the tumult was in reducing them to unison—in achieving one resultant from all the varying forces. Gradually out of the chaos11 came the first clear intent: he must so master the whole subject that when the opportunity had come he should be able to avail himself of it to the full. From this he proceeded to weigh the various possibilities, till gradually he began to realise what vague purpose had been behind his wish to have his automobile12 in perfect working order. It did not even occur to him that with such machinery13 at his command he might try to carry her off, either without her consent or with it. All that he wanted in the first instance was to have fitting opportunity of discovering how Joy regarded him. The last twenty-four hours had opened to his mind such glorious possibilities that every word she had said, every look on her eloquent14 face (though such looks had manifestly not been intended for him) had a place in a chain which linked her heart to his. “Look at me!” “I am glad I asked you to look at me!” though spoken to her father seemed to have another significance. It was as though an eager thought had at last found expression. “Good night! Good night, beloved!” though ostensibly spoken to the twilight15 was breathed with such fervour, with such languishing16 eyes and with such soft pouting17 of scarlet18 lips that it seemed impossible that it should have other than a human objective. These thoughts swept the man into a glow of passion. He was young and strong and ardent19, and he loved the woman with all his heart; with all his soul; with all the strength of human passion. It is a mistake to suppose—as some abstract thinkers seem to do always, and most people at some moment of purely20 spiritual exaltation—that the love of a man and a woman each for the other is, even at its very highest, devoid21 of physical emotion. The original Creator did not manifestly so intend. The world of thought is an abstract world whose inner shrine22 is where soul meets soul. The world of life is the world of the heart, and its beating is the sway of the pendulum23 between soul and flesh. The world of flesh is the real world; wrought24 of physical atoms in whose recurrent groupings is the elaborated scheme of nature. Into this world has been placed Man to live and rule. To this end his body is fixed25 with various powers and complications and endurances; with weaknesses and impulses and yieldings; with passions to animate26, with desires to attract, and animosities to repel27. And as the final crowning of this wondrous28 work, the last and final touch of the Creator’s hand, Sex for the eternal renewing of established forces. How can souls be drawn29 to souls when such are centred in bodies which mutually repel? How can the heart quicken its beats when it may not come near enough to hear the answering throb30? No! If physical attraction be not somewhere, naught31 can develop. Judy, the outspoken32, had once almost horrified33 a little group of matrons who were discussing the interest which a certain young cleric was beginning to take in one of the young female parishioners. When one of them said, somewhat sanctimoniously34, that his interest was only in the salvation35 of her immortal36 soul, that he was too good a man to ever think of falling in love as ordinary men do, the vivacious37 old maid replied:
“Not a bit of it, my dear! When a man troubles himself about an individual young woman’s soul you may be quite certain that his eyes have not neglected her body. And moreover you will generally, if not always, find that she has a pair of curving red lips, or a fine bust38, or a well-developed figure somewhere!”
Athlyne loved Joy in all ways, so that the best of his nature regulated the standard of his thoughts. His love was no passing fancy which might or might not develop, flame up, and fade away. He had, he felt, found the other half of him, lost in the primeval chaos; and he wanted the union to be so complete that it would outlive the clashing of worlds in the final cataclysm39. Healthy people are healthy in their loves and even in their passions. These two young people were both healthy, both red-blooded, both of ardent, passionate40 nature; and they were drawn together each to each by all the powers that rule sex and character. To say that their love was all of earth would be as absurd as to say that it was all of heaven. It was human, all human, and all that such implies. Heaven and earth had both their parts in the combination; and perhaps, since both were of strong nature and marked individuality, Hell had its due share in the amalgam41.
Athlyne thought, and thought, and thought; till the length of his own shadow recalled the passing of time. He postponed42 the thinking over his plans for to-morrow—the active part of them, and hastened back to his place behind the lilacs.
He was just in time. The carriage stood at the door with Colonel Ogilvie’s “grip-sack” at the driver’s feet. Then the Boots ran down the steps and held the carriage door open. Joy came holding her father’s arm. They got into the carriage and drove away. Athlyne waited, sitting on the seat on the grass lawn smoking luxuriously. He forgot that he was hungry and thirsty, forgot everything except that he would before long see Joy again, this time alone. His thoughts were evidently pleasant, for the time flew fast. Indeed he must have been in something like a waking dream which absorbed all his faculties for he did not notice the flight of time at all. It was only when, recalled to himself by the passing of a carriage, he looked up and saw Joy that he came back to reality. To his disappointment her head was turned away. When within sight of the garden, she had noticed him and as she did not wish him, just yet, to know that she knew of his presence, she found her eyes fixed on the other side of the street. It was the easiest and most certain way of avoiding complexities43. He slipped over to the lilacs to see her alight. When she had done so she turned to the coachman and said:
“You understand I shall not want you in the morning as I shall be out walking; but if I don’t send for you in the afternoon, or if you don’t get any message you will meet my father at Windermere station at a quarter to five.”
She went to the front of the carriage and stroked the horses’ noses and necks after her usual fashion. He had as good a view of her profile as the twilight would allow. Then with a pleasant “Good evening!” to the coachman she tripped up the steps and disappeared. For more than a quarter of an hour Athlyne watched the windows; but she did not appear. This was natural enough, for she was behind the curtains peeping out to see if he went back to his seat on the lawn.
When she saw that he did not return Joy, with a gentle sigh, went to her room.
That sigh meant a lot. It was the reaction from an inward struggle. All day she had been suffering from the dominance of two opposing ideas, between which her inward nature swayed pendulum-wise. This “inward nature” comprised her mind, her reason, her intelligence, her fears, her hopes, her desires—the whole mechanism44 and paraphernalia45 of her emotional and speculative46 psychology47. She would fain have gone out boldly into the garden and there met Mr. Hardy48 face to face—of course by pure accident. But this vague intention was combated by a maiden49 fear; one of those delicious, conscious apprehensions50 made to be combated unless thoroughly51 supported by collateral52 forces; one of those gentle fears of sex which makes yielding so sweet. Following this came the fixed intention of that walk to be taken in the morning. The morning was still far off and its apprehensive53 possibilities were not very dreadful. Indeed she did not really fear them at all for she had privately54 made up her mind that, fear or no fear, she was going on that walk. The only point left open was its direction. The hour was positively55 settled; an hour earlier than that at which for the past few days she had driven out with Daddy! Even to herself she would not admit that her choice of time was in any way controlled or influenced by the fact that it was the same hour about which Mr. Hardy made his appearance in the garden.
But all the same her thoughts and her intentions were becoming conscious. For good or evil she was getting more reckless in her desires; passion was becoming dominant—and she knew it.
This is perhaps the most dangerous phase of a woman’s trial. She knows that there is at work a growing desire for self-surrender which it is her duty to combat. She knows that all contra reasons which can be produced will be—must be—overcome. She knows with all the subtle instincts of her sex that she is deliberately56 setting her feet on a slope down which some impulse, perhaps but momentary57, will carry her with resistless force. It is the preparatory struggle to defeat; the clearing away of difficulties which might later be hampering58 or even obstructive; the clamant wish for defeat which makes for the conquered the satisfaction if not the happiness of finality. To all children of Adam, of either sex, this phase may come. To the strongest and most resolute59 warrior60 must be a moment when he can no more; when the last blow has been struck and the calling of another world is ringing in his ears; to the resolute amongst men this moment is the moment of death. To women it is surrender of self; surrender to the embrace of Death—or to the embrace of Love. It is the true end of the battle. The rest is but the carrying out of the Treaty of Peace, the Triumph of the Victory in which she is now proud to have a part—if it be only that of captive!
There was no sleep for Joy that night. She heard the hours strike one after the other, never missing one. She was not restless. She lay still, and quiet, and calm; patient with that patience which is an acceptance that what is to come is good. In all the long vigil she never faltered61 in her intention to take that walk in the forenoon. What was to happen in it she did not guess. She had a conviction that that tall figure would follow her discreetly62; and that when she was alone they would somehow meet. It might be that she would hear his voice before she saw him; that was most likely, indeed almost certain, for she would not turn till he had spoken … or at any rate till she knew that he was close behind her. … Here her thoughts would stop. She would lie in a sort of ecstasy63 … whatever might come after that would be happiness. She would see Him … look into His eyes. … “Look at me, Joy!” seemed to sound in her ears in sweet low music like a whisper. Then she would close her eyes and lie motionless, passive, breathing as gently as a child; high-strung, conscious, awake and devoid of any definite intent.
When she was dressing64 for the day she put on one of the simplest and prettiest of her dresses, one which she had directed over night to be got ready; a sort of heavy gauze of dull white which fell in long full folds showing her tall slim figure to its perfect grace. Her maid who was a somewhat silent person, not given to volubility unless encouraged, looked at her admiringly as she said:
“I do think miss that is the most becoming of all your frocks!” This pleased her and sent a red glow through her cheeks. Then, fearing if she seemed to think too much of the matter it might seem suspicious as to some purpose, she said quietly:
“Perhaps then it would be better if I put on one of the lawn dresses. I am going for a walk this morning and as it may be dusty a frock that will not catch the dust may be better.”
“It does seem a pity miss to wear such a pretty frock and spoil it when there is no one here to see it; not even your father.” This gave Joy an opening of which she quickly availed herself. She had not the least intention of changing the frock or of looking, if she could avoid it, one whit65 below her best.
“Fie, Eugenie! one doesn’t put on frocks to attract. If you think that way, I shall wear it; even if it is to get dusty.” The Abigail who was a privileged person answered gravely:
“That’s quite true, Miss, exactly as you say it. One doesn’t put on nice frocks to attract; and that one is yourself. But all the rest do!” Joy’s merry laugh showed the measure of her ebullient66 happiness.
“Dear me! Eugenie. You are quite an orthoëpist—indeed a precisionist. I shall have to polish up my grammar. However I’ll keep on the frock if only in compliment to your sense of terminological67 exactitude!”
A little after breakfast, when the time for starting on the walk drew nigh, Joy did not feel so elated. Woman-like she was not anxious to begin. It was not that she in any way faltered in her purpose, but merely that she was suffering from the nervousness which comes to those of high strung temperaments68 in momentous69 crises. Humming merrily she put on her hat and finished her toilet for her walk. In the sitting room from the shelter of the curtain she looked out of the window, as she tried to think, casually70. Her eyes turned towards the lilac bushes, but caught no indication of the tall figure that she sought. Her heart fell. But a second later it leaped almost painfully as she saw Mr. Hardy sitting out openly on the seat, and strange to say—for she had come to identify that seat with the practice—not smoking. He evidently had no present thought of being concealed71. Why? The answer to her own question came in a rush of blood to her face, a rush so quick and thorough that it seemed for the moment to deplete72 her heart which beat but faintly… When she looked again he had risen and was moving toward the lilacs.
Without a word she walked downstairs and out through the hall-door.
Athlyne had not slept either that night. But the manner and range of his thoughts showed the difference between the sexes. Both his imagining and his reasoning were to practical purpose. He wanted to see Joy, to speak with her, to prove to himself if his hoping was in any way justified73 by fact. He had for so long been concentrating his thoughts on one subject that doubts at first shadowy had become real. It seemed therefore to him that in his planning for the morrow he was dealing74 with real things, not imaginative ones. And, after all, there is nothing more real than doubt—so far as it goes. Victor Cousin took from its reality his subtlest argument for belief: “At this point scepticism itself vanishes; for if a man doubt everything else, at least he cannot doubt that he doubts.” So with Athlyne. By accepting doubt as reality he began the experiment for its cure.
In the silence of the night, with nerves high-strung and with brain excited he tried in those most earnest hours of his life, when for good or ill he was to organise75 his intellectual forces, to arrange matters so that at the earliest time he might with certainty learn his fate. He had an idea that in such a meeting as was before him he must not be over-precipitated. And yet he must not check impulsiveness76 as long as its trend was in the right direction. He knew that a woman’s heart is oftener won by assault than by siege. For himself he had plenty of patience as well as a sufficiency of spirit; his task at present therefore was one of generalship alone: the laying out of the battle plans, the disposition77 of his forces. As he thought, and as his ideas and his intentions came into order, he began to understand better the purpose of those two preparations of his which were already complete: the overhauling of his automobile, and the supplying it with female wraps. He intended by some means or other, dependent on developing opportunity, to bring her for a ride in the motor. There, all alone, he would be able to learn, perhaps at first from her bearing and then from her own lips, how she regarded him.
Athlyne was a young man, a very young man in his real knowledge of the sex. There are hundreds, thousands, of half-pulseless boys, flabby of flesh and pallid78 with enervating79 dissipation, who would have smiled cynically—they have not left in them grit80 enough for laughter—at his doubting.
He would not frighten her at first. Here for a time he took himself to task for seeming to plot against the woman he loved. Surely it would be better to treat her with perfect fairness; to lay his heart at her feet; tell her with all the passionate force that swept him how he loved her—tell it with what utterance81 he had. Then he should wait her decision. No, not decision! That was too cold a word—thought. If indeed there was any answering love to his, little decision would be required. Had he made any decision! From the first moment he had looked in her beautiful grey eyes and lost himself in their depths, his very soul had gone out to her. And it might be that she too had felt something of the same self-abandonment. He could never forget how on that afternoon visit at the Holland she had raised her eyes to his in answer to his passionate appeal: “Joy, Look at me!” Then at that memory, and at the later memory when she had spoken the words herself only the day before—the sweetness of her voice was still tingling82 in his ears, a sort of tidal wave of lover’s rapture83 swept over him. It overwhelmed him so completely that it left him physically84 gasping85 for breath. He was in a tumult; he could not lie in bed. He leaped to his feet and walked to and fro with long, passionate strides. He threw up the lower sash of the window and looked out into the moonlight, craning his neck round to the right so that his eyes were in the direction of Ambleside as though the very ardour of his gaze could pierce through distance and stone walls and compel Joy’s white eyelids86 to raise so that he might once more lose himself in those grey deeps wherein his soul alone found peace.
In this passion of adoration87 all his doubts seemed to disappear, as the sun drinks up the mist. He felt as though uplifted. At the very idea of Joy’s loving him as he loved her he felt more worthy88, more strong, and with a sense of triumph which had no parallel in his life. He stood looking out at the beauty of the scene before him, till gradually it became merged89 in his thoughts with Joy and his hopes which the morrow might realise. He never knew exactly how long he stood there. It must have been a long time, for when he realised any sense of time at all he was cramped90 and chill; and the forerunner91 of the morning light coming from far away behind him was articulating the fields on the hill-slopes across the lake.
He was then calm. All the thinking and reasoning and planning and passion of the night had been wrought into unity1. His mind was made up as to the first stage of his undertaking92. He would bring the car to Ambleside and leave it with the chauffeur outside the town. Then he would take his place in the garden and wait till she came out for that walk of which she had told her father. He would cautiously follow her; and when there was a fair opportunity for uninterrupted speech would come to her. If he found there was no change in her manner to him—and here once again the memory of those lifting eyes made him tremble—he would try to get her to come for a ride in his car. There, wrapped in the glory of motion and surrounded by all the grandeur93 of natural beauty, he would pour out his soul to her and put his fate to the touch. Then if all were well he would send on the letter to her father and would pay his formal visit as soon as might be. He would take care to have ready a luncheon94 basket so that if she would ride with him they might have together an ethereal banquet.
It is strange that even those who are habitually95 cautious, whose thoughts and deeds alike are compelled and ruled by reason, will in times of exaltation forget their guiding principle. They will refuse to acknowledge the existence of chance; and will proceed calmly on their way as though life was as a simple cord, with Inclination96 pulling at one end of it and Fact yielding at the other.
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1
unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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overhauling
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| n.大修；拆修；卸修；翻修v.彻底检查( overhaul的现在分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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pouting
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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pendulum
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| n.摆，钟摆 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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animate
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| v.赋于生命，鼓励；adj.有生命的，有生气的 | |
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repel
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| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
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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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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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outspoken
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| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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sanctimoniously
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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cataclysm
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| n.洪水，剧变，大灾难 | |
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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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amalgam
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| n.混合物；汞合金 | |
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postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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complexities
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| 复杂性(complexity的名词复数)； 复杂的事物 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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paraphernalia
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| n.装备；随身用品 | |
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speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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collateral
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| adj.平行的；旁系的；n.担保品 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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hampering
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的现在分词 ) | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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ebullient
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| adj.兴高采烈的，奔放的 | |
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terminological
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| adj. 用辞的, 术语学的 | |
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temperaments
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| 性格( temperament的名词复数 )； （人或动物的）气质； 易冲动； （性情）暴躁 | |
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momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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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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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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deplete
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| v.弄空，排除，减轻，减少...体液，放去...的血 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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organise
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| vt.组织，安排，筹办 | |
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impulsiveness
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| n.冲动 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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enervating
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| v.使衰弱，使失去活力( enervate的现在分词 ) | |
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grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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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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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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forerunner
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| n.前身，先驱（者），预兆，祖先 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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