Approaching the place you saw a line of scattered3 oaks and Scots firs, with straggling thorns and hollies4 between them along the line of a chestnut5 fence that had turned green with mould. Beyond the hollies and thorns rose the branches of an orchard2, and beyond the orchard a plantation6 of yews7, hollies, and black spruces. The house or cottage was hardly distinguishable till you turned down into the lane from the high road. It betrayed itself merely by the corner of a white window frame, the top of a red-brick chimney, and a patch of lichened8 tiling visible through the tangle9 of foliage10.
The Carfaxes had been here a year, the mother having been ordered country air and a dry soil. They had sublet11 the orchard to a farmer who grazed sheep there, but had kept the vegetable garden with its old black loam12, and the plot in front with its two squares of grass, filling nearly all the space between the house and the white palings. The grass was rather coarse and long, the Carfaxes paying a man to scythe13 it two or three times during the summer. There were flower-beds under the fence, and on every side of the two pieces of grass, and standard roses flanking the gravel14 path.
Eve met the man with the scythe in the lane as she walked home after her second day at Fernhill. She found her mother dozing15 in her basket-chair in the front garden where a holly16 tree threw a patch of shadow on the grass. Mrs. Carfax had her knitting-needles and a ball of white wool in her lap. She was wearing a lilac sun-bonnet, and a grey-coloured shawl.
The click of the gate-latch woke her.
“Have you had tea, mother?”
“No, dear; I thought I would wait for you.”
Mrs. Carfax was a pretty old lady with blue eyes and a rather foolish face. She was remarkable17 for her sweetness, an obstinate18 sweetness that had the consistency19 of molasses, and refused to be troubled, let Fate stir ever so viciously. Her passivity could be utterly20 exasperating21. She had accepted the whole order of the Victorian Age, as she had known it, declining to see any flaws in the structure, and ascribing any trifling22 vexations to the minute and multifarious fussiness23 of the Deity24.
“You ought to have had tea, mother.”
“My dear, I never mind waiting.”
“Would you like it brought out here?”
“Just as you please, dear.”
It was not daughterly, but Eve sometimes wished that her mother had a temper, and could use words that elderly gentlewomen are not expected to be acquainted with. There was something so explosively refreshing25 about the male creature’s hearty26 “Oh, damn!”
That cooing, placid27 voice never lost its sweetness. It was the same when it rained, when the wind howled for days, when the money was shorter than usual, when Eve’s drawings were returned by unsympathetic magazines. Mrs. Carfax underlined the adjectives in her letters, and had a little proverbial platitude28 for every catastrophe29, were it a broken soap dish or a railway smash. “Patience is a virtue30, my dear.” “Rome was not built in a day.” “The world is not helped by worry.” Mrs. Carfax had an annuity31 of £100 a year, and Eve made occasional small sums by her paintings. They were poor, poor with that respectable poverty that admits of no margins32 and no adventures.
Mrs. Carfax was supremely33 contented34. She prayed nightly that she might be spared to keep a home for Eve, never dreaming that the daughter suffered from fits of bitter restlessness when anything seemed better than this narrow and prospectless35 tranquillity36. Mrs. Carfax had never been young. She had accepted everything, from her bottle onwards, with absolute passivity. She had been a passive child, a passive wife, a passive widow. Life had had no gradients, no gulfs and pinnacles37. There were no injustices38 and no sorrows, save, of course, those arranged by an all-wise Providence39. No ideals, save those in the Book of Common Prayer; no passionate40 strivings; no divine discontents. She just cooed, brought out a soft platitude, and went on with her knitting.
Eve entered the house to put her things away, and to tell Nellie, the infant maid, to take tea out into the garden.
“Take tea out, Nellie.”
“Yes, miss. There ain’t no cake.”
“I thought I told you to bake one.”
“Yes, miss. There ain’t no baking powder.”
“Oh, very well. I’ll order some. Put a little jam out.”
“There only be gooseberry, miss.”
“Then we’ll say gooseberry.”
Eve returned to the garden in time to hear the purr of a motor-car in the main road. The car stopped at the end of the lane. A door banged, and a figure in black appeared beyond the gate.
It was the Cantertons’ car that had stopped at the end of the lane, and it was Mrs. Canterton who opened the gate, smiling and nodding at Mrs. Carfax. Gertrude Canterton had paid a first formal call some months ago, leaving in Eve’s mind the picture of a very expeditious41 woman who might whirl down on you in an aeroplane, make a few remarks on the weather, and then whirl off again.
“Please don’t get up! Please don’t get up! I mustn’t stay three minutes. Isn’t the weather exquisite42. Ah, how do you do, Miss Carfax?”
She extended a hand with an affected43 flick44 of the wrist, smiling all the while, and wriggling45 her shoulders.
“Eve, fetch another chair, dear.”
“Oh, please don’t bother!”
“We are just going to have tea, Mrs. Canterton.”
Eve gave her mother a warning look, but Mrs. Carfax never noticed other people’s faces.
“Tell Nellie, dear.”
Eve walked off to the house, chiefly conscious of the fact that there was no cake for tea. How utterly absurd it was that one should chafe46 over such trifles. But then, with women like Mrs. Canterton, it was necessary to have one’s pride dressed to the very last button.
Two extra chairs and tea arrived. The conversation was never in danger of death when Gertrude Canterton was responsible for keeping up a babble47 of sound. If the other people were mute and reticent48, she talked about herself and her multifarious activities. These filled all gaps.
“I must say I like having tea in the garden. You are, really, most sheltered here. Sugar? No, I don’t take sugar in tea—only in coffee, thank you.”
“It does rather spoil the flavour.”
“We have a very exquisite tea sent straight to us from a friend of my husband’s in Ceylon. It rather spoils me, and I have got out of the way of taking sugar. How particular we become, don’t we? It is so easy to become selfish. That reminds me. I want to interest our neighbourhood in a society that has been started in London. What a problem London is.”
Mrs. Carfax cooed sympathetically.
“And the terrible lives the people lead. We are very interested in the poor shop girls, and we have started an organisation49 which we call ‘The Shop Girls’ Rest Society.’”
“Eve, perhaps Mrs. Canterton will have some cake.”
“I’m sorry, there isn’t any cake.”
“Eve, dear!”
“Oh, please, I so rarely take cake. Bread and butter is so much more hygienic and natural. I was going to tell you that this society we have started is going to provide shop girls with country holidays.”
“How very nice!”
Mrs. Carfax felt that she had to coo more sweetly because of the absence of cake.
“I think it is quite an inspiration. We want to get people to take a girl for a week or a fortnight and give her good food, fresh air, and a sense of homeliness51. How much the home means to women.”
“Everything, Mrs. Canterton. Woman’s place is the home.”
“Exactly. And I was wondering, Mrs. Carfax, whether you would be prepared to help us. Of course, we shall see to it that the girls are really nice and proper persons.”
The thought of the absence of cake still lingered, and Mrs. Carfax felt apologetic.
“I am sure, Mrs. Canterton, I shall be glad——”
Eve had grown stiffer and stiffer, watching the inevitable52 approach of the inevitable beggar. Gertrude Canterton had a genius for wriggling her way everywhere, even into other people’s bedrooms, and would be putting them down for ten guineas before they were half awake.
“I am sorry, but I’m afraid it is out of the question.”
She spoke53 rather brusquely, and Gertrude Canterton turned with an insinuating54 scoop55 of the chin.
“Miss Carfax, do let me——”
“Eve, dear, I’m sure——”
“It is quite impossible.”
“But, Eve——”
“You know, mother, we haven’t a bed.”
“My dear!”
“And no spare bedclothes. Mrs. Canterton may as well be told the truth.”
There was a short silence. Mrs. Carfax looked as ruffled57 as it was possible for her to look, settled her shawl, and glanced inquiringly at Mrs. Canterton. But even to Gertrude Canterton the absence of bedclothes seemed final.
“I am sure, Mrs. Carfax, you would have helped us, if you had been able.”
Eve persisted in being regarded as the responsible authority. She was quite shameless now that she had shown Mrs. Canterton the empty cupboard.
“You see, we have only one small maid, and everything is so adjusted, that we just manage to get along.”
“Exactly so, Miss Carfax. I quite understand. But there is a little thing you could do for us. I always think that living in a neighbourhood makes one responsible for one’s poorer neighbours. I am sure, Mrs. Carfax, that you will give a small subscription58 to the Coal and Clothing Club.”
“With pleasure.”
“It doesn’t matter how small it is.”
“Eve, dear, please go and fetch me some silver. I should like to subscribe59 five shillings. May I give it to you, Mrs. Canterton?”
“Thank you so very much. I will send you a receipt.”
Eve had risen and walked off resignedly towards the cottage. It was she who was responsible for all the petty finance of the household, and five shillings were five shillings when one’s income was one hundred pounds a year. It could not be spared from the housekeeping purse, for the money in it was partitioned out to the last penny. Eve went to her own room, and took a green leather purse from the rosewood box on her dressing-table. This purse held such sums as she could save from the sale of occasional small pictures and fashion plates. It contained seventeen shillings at this particular moment. Five shillings were to have gone on paints, ten on a new pair of shoes, and two on some cheap material for a blouse.
She was conscious of making instinctive60 calculations as she took out two half-crowns. What a number of necessities these two pieces of silver would buy, and the ironical61 part of it was that she could not paint without paints, or walk without shoes. It struck her as absurd that a fussy62 fool like this Canterton woman should be able to cause so much charitable inconvenience. Why had she not refused point blank, in spite of her mother’s pleading eyes?
Eve returned to the garden and handed Mrs. Canterton the two half-crowns without a word. It was blackmail63 levied64 by a restless craze for incessant65 charitable activities. Eve would not have grudged66 it had it gone straight to a fellow-worker in distress67, but to give it to this rich woman who went round wringing68 shillings out of cottagers!
“Thank you so much. Money is always so badly needed.”
“It is, isn’t it? Especially when you have to earn it!”
Gertrude Canterton chatted for another five minutes and then rose to go. She shook hands cordially with Mrs. Carfax, and was almost as cordial with Eve. And it was this blind, self-contentment of hers that made her so universally detested71. She never knew when people’s bristles72 were up, and having a hide like leather, she wriggled73 up and rubbed close, never suspecting that most people were possessed74 by a savage75 desire to say some particularly stinging thing that should bite through all the thickness of her egotism.
“Thank goodness!”
“Eve, you were quite rude! And you need not have said, dear——”
“Mother, I told the truth only in self-defence. I was expecting some other deserving charity to arrive at any moment.”
“It is better to give, dear, than to receive.”
“Is it? Of course, we needn’t pay the tradesmen, and we can send the money to some missionary76 agency.”
“Eve, dear, please don’t be flippant. A word spoken in jest——”
“I’m not, mother. I’m most desperately77 serious.”
Gertrude Canterton had a very successful afternoon. She motored about forty miles, trifled with three successive teas, and bored some seven householders into promising78 to consider the claims of the Shop Girls’ Rest Society. She was very talkative at dinner, describing and criticising the various people from whom she had begged.
“You went to the Carfaxes?”
“Yes.”
“And got something from them?”
“Of course, James.”
“You shouldn’t go to such people.”
Her face was all sallow surprise.
“Why, they are quite respectable, and——”
“Respectable! Do you think I meant that! You know, Gertrude, you charitable people are desperately hard sometimes on the real poor.”
“What do you mean, James?”
“People like the Carfaxes ought not to be worried. You are so infernally energetic!”
“James, I protest!”
“Oh, well, let it pass.”
“If you mean——Of course, I can send the money back.”
He looked at her with a curious and wondering severity.
“I shouldn’t do that, Gertrude. Some people are rather sensitive.”
Canterton went into the library after dinner, before going up to say “good night” to Lynette. Within the last two days some knowledge of the Carfaxes and their life had come to him, fortuitously, and yet with a vividness that had roused his sympathy. For though James Canterton had never lacked for money, he had that intuitive vision that gives a man understanding and compassion80.
His glance fell upon the manuscript of “The Book of the English Garden” lying open on his desk. An idea struck him. Why should not Eve Carfax give the colour to this book? To judge by her portrait of Guinevere, hers was the very art that he needed.
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1
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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hollies
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| n.冬青（常绿灌木，叶尖而硬，有光泽，冬季结红色浆果）( holly的名词复数 )；（用作圣诞节饰物的）冬青树枝 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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yews
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| n.紫杉( yew的名词复数 ) | |
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lichened
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| adj.长满地衣的，长青苔的 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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sublet
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| v.转租；分租 | |
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loam
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| n.沃土 | |
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scythe
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| n. 长柄的大镰刀，战车镰； v. 以大镰刀割 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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fussiness
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| [医]易激怒 | |
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deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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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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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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platitude
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| n.老生常谈，陈词滥调 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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annuity
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| n.年金；养老金 | |
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margins
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| 边( margin的名词复数 )； 利润； 页边空白； 差数 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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prospectless
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| n.章程，简章，简介( prospectus的名词复数 ) | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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pinnacles
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| 顶峰( pinnacle的名词复数 )； 顶点； 尖顶； 小尖塔 | |
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injustices
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| 不公平( injustice的名词复数 )； 非正义； 待…不公正； 冤枉 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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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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expeditious
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| adj.迅速的，敏捷的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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45
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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46
chafe
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| v.擦伤；冲洗；惹怒 | |
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47
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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48
reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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organisation
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| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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51
homeliness
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| n.简朴，朴实；相貌平平 | |
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52
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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53
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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54
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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55
scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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56
stonily
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| 石头地，冷酷地 | |
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57
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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subscribe
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| vi.(to)订阅，订购；同意；vt.捐助，赞助 | |
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60
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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63
blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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64
levied
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| 征（兵）( levy的过去式和过去分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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grudged
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| 怀恨（grudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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laconic
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| adj.简洁的；精练的 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72
bristles
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| 短而硬的毛发，刷子毛( bristle的名词复数 ) | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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78
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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