It was all working out now exactly as Ralph had hoped and wished for. Never had he admired Mary quite so much as he did at that moment. And yet his heart smote1 him as he realised that after all there was something akin2 to harshness in his action. Still, the case would have been very much the same had he declared his identity and proclaimed the fact that he was the proper owner of Dashwood Hall.
Mary would in that case have remained in much the same position, though the situation would have perhaps lacked its present dramatic features. Mary stood there with a proud look on her face; she was ready to meet the world and conquer it single-handed. How many bright strong young lives had set forth3 with the same cheerfulness and failed! Still, it was a step in the right direction, Ralph thought.
"Had you not better give the thing further consideration?" he said. "In the ways of the world you are little better than a child. Of your courage and resolution there is no doubt. But there are other qualities needed to make a living today. You must have a good knowledge of some business or profession."
"I can paint," Mary said. "Many people have told me that I should have made an artist if I had had to earn my own living."
Ralph nodded grimly. He had seen several of the girl's drawings. There was no necessity to point out the vast difference between the best efforts of the amateur and the finished work of the professional, tricks of the trade learned frequently after years of bitter struggling.
It seemed a pity to discourage Mary at the outset of her career. And Ralph was not anxious for the girl's success. He turned the situation over rapidly in his mind.
"You can try," he said. "There is a friend of mine, the daughter of a once famous general officer who gets her living by working for the cheap illustrated4 papers. She has no great talent, but she manages to get a living. If you like, I will write to her and ask her to----"
"It will be too late," Mary cried, "I am going tonight. I could not stay here a day longer after what has happened. The mere5 sight of the old house brings the tears to my eyes and makes me feel weak and irresolute6. I have something like thirty pounds in money and a little jewellery. And my maid has given me the address of a respectable woman who lets lodgings7.
"Oh, I shall be happy enough when I am away from here and have plenty of hard work to do. Only the other day I was reading a story about a girl, like myself, who went to London and began to work for the magazines. It made a different creature of her; for the first time in her life she was really happy."
"She made a large income from the start," Ralph smiled, "and presently she had a great hit with an Academy picture. Subsequently she married the editor--proprietor of a popular paper--and he bought the old home for her?"
"You have read the story?" Mary asked.
"Indeed I haven't," Ralph replied. "There are so many stories like that that I had no difficulty in imagining the plot. Oh, if you only knew how different the real is from the ideal! Still, I would not dissuade8 you from your ambition for a moment. It will do you all the good in the world. But you shall not go alone."
Mary glanced haughtily9 at the speaker. There was an air of command, a suggestion of possession, about the speech that the girl resented. Who was Ralph Darnley that he should adopt this tone towards her? And at the same time Mary knew that he was the one friend she had, if she did not count Lady Dashwood.
It was a melancholy10 confession11, but Mary had made no friends. For the most part members of her own sex did not like her, she was too cold and self-contained for them. She did not enter into their sentiments and pleasures. It had not been the girl's own fault so much as the fault of her environment.
And now she was going out into the world alone with a few pounds in her possession, and with not a soul to give her a helping12 hand. There was something very pathetic about it, Ralph thought. She knew so very little as to what lay before her.
"I wish you would wait till tomorrow," he murmured.
"No," Mary said with a proud toss of her head. "It is not the slightest use trying to break my resolution. I tell you I could not remain here, I could not stay even with Lady Dashwood, knowing that my father was sponging on the good nature of the man at the Hall. It seems a dreadful thing to me----"
"That is a most improper14 observation to make," Dashwood said peevishly15. "A most impertinent remark to address to a father."
"I am very sorry," Mary said penitently16, "it seemed the only word to use. And it does hurt me so dreadfully to see how coolly you have cast your pride aside. If you will come with me, father, I will work for both. We should at any rate have the consolation17 of knowing that we have done nothing to sully the name of Dashwood."
The girl spoke18 pleadingly, with a yearning19 tenderness in her voice that Ralph had never heard before. He was rejoiced to see the lesson of adversity working so soon. For his own part, he could not have resisted that seductive invitation.
"Certainly not," Dashwood replied. "Nothing of the kind. I have no desire to make the acquaintance of what people call apartments. I went to see a poor friend of mine in apartments once. I saw his dinner. Good heavens! what a repulsive21 mess it was. Served up by a red-headed maid-of-all-work, with a black smudge on her face. No, no, I prefer the graceful22 hospitality of my friend--er--Sir Vincent Dashwood."
Mary turned in the direction of the door as if the discussion were closed.
"I am disappointed," she said. "But there is nothing to be gained by standing23 here talking over my determination. I am going as far as the Hall to say goodbye to some of the old servants, and hope to catch the 7.05 train to London. As I said before, I know where to go when I reach my journey's end."
Mary passed out into the peaceful sunshine of the garden. Lady Dashwood looked imploringly24 at Ralph, who smiled in reply. From the bottom of his heart, he was feeling for the girl, but he did not falter25 in his purpose. It was very brave of Mary, but at the same time very pathetic. Ralph stole after the lonely figure; he found her standing by the old sundial in the garden. Her fingers were tracing idly over the quaint20 inscription26 on the stone. Ralph could see that her eyes were filled with tears.
"Is there anything I can do to help you?" he asked.
"I'm afraid not," Mary whispered. "And you are the only friend I have, besides Lady Dashwood. I have not the art of making friends: I never had sympathy with the pastimes and pleasures of the ordinary girl of my class; I did not feel lonely here, because it was so lovely a place. Dashwood Hall was always sufficient for me. And now when I come to leave it, it breaks my heart to go. You will laugh at me perhaps, but I have a strange feeling as if I had the whole world to myself and that there was nobody else in it. It is as if everybody had turned away from me. There was even something that hurt me today in the way that Mr. Mayfield let me know that I was free as far as he was concerned. I dread13 the thought of living by myself in London, the idea makes me tremble. I, who have been so cold and proud, will have to approach people and ask favours at their hands. I hope you understand me; it is dreadful when nobody understands me."
Ralph made no reply for a moment, he was afraid to trust his own voice.
"You are a very woman," he said at length. "With your pride and your coldness there are the same impulses and passions common to yourself and the meanest of us. As to this pride of yours, I regard it as a hateful thing. What is a Dashwood living on a fortune that none of you have ever earned, compared with the man or woman who has risen superior to circumstances and made an honoured name in the world? The girl who goes out and gets her own living, or to support a widowed mother, is far superior to you. But I say these things loving you with my whole heart and soul and being, and hope that some day I shall call you my wife. I want to see all that harshness and coldness of yours cast to the wind, I want to see your face sweet in sympathy with poor humanity. But you are not going the lonely way as you seem to imagine. I am going to look after you; I will not be far away. For the present my work is finished here, and there are powerful calls that take me to London also in a day or two. You will let me see you, Mary; you will let me bring you and my young artist friend together?"
"I shall be glad indeed to see you," Mary cried, holding out her hand with an impulse that she would have found it hard to account for. "Oh, I am not so strong and self-reliant that I need nobody to confide27 in. The more my mind dwells on the future, the more I seem to dread it. And you have been so good and kind to me, I owe so much to you. I begin to see that there are gentlemen in the world, though they boast of no pedigree, and----"
"Well, that is a good lesson learned," Ralph smiled. "Let me walk with you as far as the Hall, for I have a telegram to send from the village. And then, if you will allow me, I will return to the dower house with you. There are one or two things that I have to say before you go."
Mary smiled through her tears; for a second her soul seemed to show in her eyes.
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1
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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dissuade
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| v.劝阻，阻止 | |
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haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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peevishly
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| adv．暴躁地 | |
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penitently
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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falter
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| vi.(嗓音)颤抖，结巴地说；犹豫；蹒跚 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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27
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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