YES; this morning I think you can see her. She seems ever so much better; not in such a fearful hurry, I mean."
Pauline, from her dressing-room, overheard Maisie Bruss. She smiled at the description of herself, sent a thought of gratitude1 to Alvah Loft2, and called out: "Is that Nona? I'll be there in a minute. Just finishing my exercises..."
She appeared, fresh and tingling3, draped in a restful dove-coloured wrapper, and offered Nona a smooth cheek. Miss Bruss had vanished, and mother and daughter had to themselves the sunny room, full of flowers and the scent4 of a wood-fire.
"How wonderful you look, mother! All made over. Have you been trying some new exercises?"
Pauline smiled and pulled up the soft eiderdown coverlet at the foot of her lounge. She sank comfortably back among her cushions.
"No, dear: it's just—understanding a little better, I think."
"Understanding?"
"Yes; that things always come out right if one just keeps on being brave and trustful."
"Oh—." She fancied she caught a note of disappointment in Nona's voice. Poor Nona—her mother had long been aware that she had no enthusiasm, no transports of faith. She took after her father. How tired and sallow she looked in the morning light, perched on the arm of a chair, her long legs dangling5!
"You really ought to try to believe that yourself, darling," said Pauline brightly.
"But one can always make time, dear." ("Just as I do," the smile suggested.) "You look thoroughly7 fagged out, Nona. I do wish you'd go to the wonderful new man I've just—"
"Lita?"
"I've been wanting to speak to you about her for a long time. Haven't you noticed anything?"
Pauline still wore her alert and sympathizing smile. "Tell me what, dear—let's talk it all over."
"Jim? But, darling, he's been so dreadfully over-worked—that's the trouble. Your father spoke11 to me about it the other day. He's sending Jim and Arthur down to the island next month for a good long rest."
A faint shadow brushed Pauline's cloudless horizon; but she resolutely14 turned her eyes from it. "Tell me what you think is wrong."
"Why, that she's bored stiff—says she's going to chuck the whole thing. She says the life she's leading prevents her expressing her personality."
"Good gracious—she dares?" Pauline sat bolt upright, the torn garment of her serenity15 fluttering away like a wisp of vapour. Was there never to be any peace for her, she wondered? She had a movement of passionate16 rebellion—then a terror lest it should imperil Alvah Loft's mental surgery. After a physical operation the patient's repose17 was always carefully guarded—but no one thought of sparing her, though she had just been subjected to so radical18 an extirpation19. She looked almost irritably21 at Nona.
"Don't you think you sometimes imagine things, my pet? Of course, the more we yield to suggestions of pain and distress22 the more—"
"Yes; I know. But this isn't a suggestion, it's a fact. Lita says she's got to express her personality, or she'll do something dreadful. And if she does it will break Jim's heart."
Pauline leaned back, vaguely23 fortified24 by so definite a menace. It was laughable to think of Lita Cliffe's threatening to do something dreadful to a Wyant!
"Don't you think she's just over-excited, perhaps? She leads such a crazy sort of life—all you children do. And she hasn't been very strong since the baby's birth. I believe she needs a good rest as much as Jim does. And you know your father has been so wise about that; he's going to persuade her to go to Cedarledge for two or three weeks while Jim's in Georgia."
Nona remained unimpressed. "Lita won't go to Cedarledge alone—you know she won't."
"She won't have to, dear. Your father has thought of that too; he finds time to think of everything."
"Who's going, then?"
"We all are. At least, your father hopes you will; and he's giving up his tarpon-fishing on purpose to join us."
"Your father's wonderful," Pauline triumphed.
"Yes, I know." The girl's voice flagged again. "But all this is weeks away. And meanwhile I'm afraid—I'm afraid."
"Little girls mustn't be afraid. If you are, send Lita to me. I'm sure it's just a case of frustration26—"
"Frustration?"
"Yes; the new psychological thing. I'll take her with me to see Alvah Loft. He's the great Inspirational Healer. I've only had three treatments, and it's miraculous27. It doesn't take ten minutes, and all one's burdens are lifted." Pauline threw back her head with a sigh which seemed to luxuriate in the remembrance of her own release. "I wish I could take you all to him!" she said.
"Well, perhaps you'd better begin with Lita." Nona was half-smiling too, but it was what her mother secretly called her disintegrating28 smile. "I wish the poor child were more constructive—but I suppose she's inherited her father's legal mind," Pauline thought.
Nona stood before her irresolutely29. "You know, mother, if things do go wrong Jim will never get over it."
"There you are again—jumping at the conclusion that things will go wrong! As for Lita, to me it's a clear case of frustration. She says she wants to express her personality? Well, every one has the right to do that—I should think it wrong of me to interfere30. That wouldn't be the way to make Jim happy. What Lita needs is to have her frustrations31 removed. That will open her eyes to her happiness, and make her see what a perfect home she has. I wonder where my engagement-list is? Maisie! ... Oh, here..." She ran her eyes rapidly over the tablet. "I'll see Lita tomorrow—I'll make a point of it. We'll have a friendly simple talk—perfectly32 frank and affectionate. Let me see: at what time should I be likely to find her? ... And, no, of course not, darling; I wouldn't think of saying a word to Jim. But your father—surely I may speak to your father?"
Nona hesitated. "I think father knows about it—as much as he need," she answered, her hand on the door.
The prospect35 of the talk with her daughter-in-law barely ruffled36 her new-found peace. It was a pity Lita was restless; but nowadays all the young people were restless. Perhaps it would be as well to say a word to Kitty Landish; flighty and inconsequent as she was, it might open her eyes to find that she was likely to have her niece back on her hands. Mrs. Percy Landish's hands were always full to overflowing37 with her own difficulties. A succession of ingenious theories of life, and the relentless38 pursuit of originality39, had landed her in a state of chronic40 embarrassment41, pecuniary42, social and sentimental43. The announcement that Lita was tired of Jim, and threatened to leave him, would fall like a bombshell on that precarious44 roof which figured in the New York Directory as somewhere in the East Hundreds, but was recorded in the "Social Register" as No. 1 Viking Court. Mrs. Landish's last fad45 had been to establish herself on the banks of the East River, which she and a group of friends had adorned46 with a cluster of reinforced-cement bungalows48, first christened El Patio20, but altered to Viking Court after Mrs. Landish had read in an illustrated49 weekly that the Vikings, who had discovered America ages before Columbus, had not, as previously50 supposed, effected their first landing at Vineyard Haven, but at a spot not far from the site of her dwelling51. Cement, at an early stage, is malleable52, and the Alhambra motifs53 had hastily given way to others from the prows54 of Nordic ships, from silver torques and Runic inscriptions55, the latter easily contrived57 out of Arabic sourats from the Koran. Before these new ornaments58 were dry, Mrs. Landish and her friends were camping on the historic spot; and after four years of occupancy they were camping still, in Mrs. Manford's sense of the word.
A hurried telephone call had assured Pauline that she could see Mrs. Landish directly after lunch; and at two o'clock her motor drove up to Viking Court, which opened on a dilapidated river-front and was cynically59 overlooked by tall tenement60 houses with an underpinning61 of delicatessen stores.
Mrs. Landish was nowhere to be found. She had had to go out to lunch, a melancholy62 maid-servant said, because the cook had just given notice; but she would doubtless soon be back. With gingerly steps Pauline entered the "living-room," so called (as visitors were unfailingly reminded) because Mrs. Landish ate, painted, modelled in clay, sculptured in wood, and received her friends there. The Vikings, she added, had lived in that way. But today all traces of these varied63 activities had disappeared, and the room was austerely64 empty. Mrs. Landish's last hobby was for what she called "purism," and her chief desire to make everything in her surroundings conform to the habits and industries of a mythical65 past. Ever since she had created Viking Court she had been trying to obtain rushes for the floor: but as the Eastern States of America did not produce the particular variety of rush which the Vikings were said to have used she had at last decided66 to have rugs woven on handlooms in Abyssinia, some one having assured her that an inscription56 referring to trade-relations between the Vikings and the kingdom of Prester John had been discovered in the ruins of Petra.
The difficulty of having these rugs made according to designs of the period caused the cement floor of Mrs. Landish's living-room to remain permanently67 bare, and most of the furniture having now been removed, the room had all the appearance of a garage, the more so as Mrs. Landish's latest protégé, a young cabaret-artist who performed on a motor-siren, had been suffered to stable his cycle in one corner.
In addition to this vehicle, the room contained only a few relentless-looking oak chairs, a long table bearing an hour-glass (for clocks would have been an anachronism), and a scrap68 of dusty velvet69 nailed on the cement wall, as to which Mrs. Landish explained that it was a bit of a sixth century Coptic vestment, and that the nuns70 of a Basilian convent in Thessaly were reproducing it for eventual71 curtains and chair-cushions. "It may take fifty years." Mrs. Landish always added, "but I would rather go without it than live with anything less perfect."
The void into which Pauline advanced gave prominence72 to the figure of a man who stood with his back to her, looking through the window at what was to be a garden when Viking horticulture was revived. Meanwhile it was fully10 occupied by neighbouring cats and by swirls73 of wind-borne rubbish.
The visitor, duskily blocked against a sullen74 March sky, was at first not recognizable; but half way toward him Pauline exclaimed: "Dexter!" He turned, and his surprise met hers.
"I never dreamed of its being you!" she said.
"Because I never saw you here before. I've tried often enough to get you to come—"
"Oh, to lunch or dine!" He sent a grimace77 about the room. "I never thought that was among my duties."
She did not take this up, and a moment's silence hung between them. Finally Manford said: "I came about Lita."
Pauline felt a rush of relief. Her husband's voice had been harsh and impatient: she saw that her arrival had mysteriously put him out. But if anxiety about Lita were the cause of his visit it not only explained his perturbation but showed his revived solicitude78 for herself. She sent back another benediction79 to the Inspirational Healer, so sweet it was to find that she and Dexter were once more moved by the same impulses.
"It's awfully kind of you, dear. How funny that we should meet on the same errand!"
He stared: "Why, have you—?"
"Come about Lita? Well, yes. She's been getting rather out of hand, hasn't she? Of course a divorce would kill poor Jim—otherwise I shouldn't so much mind—"
"A divorce?"
"Nona tells me it's Lita's idea. Foolish child! I'm to have a talk with her this afternoon. I came here first to see if Kitty's influence—"
"Oh: Kitty's influence!"
"Yes; I know." She broke off, and glanced quickly at Manford. "But if you don't believe in her influence, why did you come here yourself?"
The question seemed to take her husband by surprise, and he met it by a somewhat rigid80 smile. How old he looked in the hard slaty81 light! The crisp hair was almost as thin on his temples as higher up. If only he would try that wonderful new "Radio-scalp"! "And he used to be so handsome!" his wife said to herself, with the rush of vitality82 she always felt when she noted83 the marks of fatigue84 or age in her contemporaries. Manford and Nona, she reflected, had the same way of turning sallow and heavy-cheeked when they were under any physical or moral strain.
Manford said: "I came to ask Mrs. Landish to help us get Lita away for Easter. I thought she might put in a word—"
It was Pauline's turn to smile. "Perhaps she might. What I came for was to say that if Lita doesn't quiet down and behave reasonably she may find herself thrown on her aunt's hands again. I think that will produce an effect on Kitty. I shall make it perfectly clear that they are not to count on me financially if Lita leaves Jim." She glanced brightly at Manford, instinctively85 awaiting his approval.
But the expected response did not come. His face grew blurred86 and uncertain, and for a moment he said nothing. Then he muttered: "It's all very unfortunate ... a stupid muddle87..."
Pauline caught the change in his tone. It suggested that her last remark, instead of pleasing him, had raised between them one of those invisible barriers against which she had so often bruised88 her perceptions. And just as she had thought that he and she were really in touch again!
"We mustn't be hard on her ... we mustn't judge her without hearing both sides ..." he went on.
"But of course not." It was just the sort of thing she wanted him to say, but not in the voice in which he said it. The voice was full of hesitation89 and embarrassment. Could it be her presence which embarrassed him? With Manford one could never tell. She suggested, almost timidly: "But why shouldn't I leave you to see Kitty alone? Perhaps we needn't both..."
His look of relief was unconcealable; but her bright resolution rose above the shock. "You'll do it so much better," she encouraged him.
"Oh, I don't know. But perhaps two of us ... looks rather like the Third Degree, doesn't it?"
He gave an acquiescent92 nod, and followed her as she moved toward the door. "Perhaps, though—look here, Pauline—"
She sparkled with responsiveness.
"Hadn't you better wait before sending for Lita? It may not be necessary, if—"
Her first impulse was to agree; but she thought of the Inspirational Healer. "You can trust me to behave with tact93, dear; but I'm sure it will help Lita to talk things out, and perhaps I shall know better than Kitty how to get at her... Lita and I have always been good friends, and there's a wonderful new man I want to persuade her to see ... some one really psychic94..."
Manford's lips narrowed in a smile; again she had a confused sense of new deserts widening between them. Why had he again become suddenly sardonic95 and remote? She had no time to consider, for the new gospel of frustrations was surging to her lips.
"Pauline darling! Dexter! Have you been waiting long? Oh, dear—my hour-glass seems to be quite empty!"
Mrs. Percy Landish was there, slipping toward them with a sort of aerial shuffle98, as if she had blown in on a March gust99. Her tall swaying figure produced, at a distance, an effect of stateliness which vanished as she approached, as if she had suddenly got out of focus. Her face was like an unfinished sketch100, to which the artist had given heaps of fair hair, a lovely nose, expressive101 eyes, and no mouth. She laid down some vague parcels and shook the hour-glass irritably, as if it had been at fault.
"How dear of you!" she said to her visitors. "I don't often get you together in my eyrie."
The expression puzzled Pauline, who knew that in poetry an eyrie was an eagle's nest, and wondered how this term could be applied102 to a cement bungalow47 in the East Hundreds... But there was no time to pursue such speculations103.
Mrs. Landish was looking helplessly about her. "It's cold—you're both freezing, I'm afraid?" Her eyes rested tragically104 on the empty hearth105. "The fact is, I can't have a fire because my andirons are wrong."
"Not high enough? The chimney doesn't draw, you mean?" Pauline in such emergencies was in her element; she would have risen from her deathbed to show a new housemaid how to build a fire. But Mrs. Landish shook her head with the look of a woman who never expects to be understood by other women.
"No, dear; I mean they were not of the period. I always suspected it, and Dr. Ygrid Bjornsted, the great authority on Nordic art, who was here the other day, told me that the only existing pair is in the Museum at Christiania. So I have sent an order to have them copied. But you are cold, Pauline! Shall we go and sit in the kitchen? We shall be quite by ourselves, because the cook has just given notice."
Pauline drew her furs around her in silent protest at this new insanity106. "We shall be very well here, Kitty. I suppose you know it's about Lita—"
Mrs. Landish seemed to drift back to them from incalculable distances. "Lita? Has Klawhammer really engaged her? It was for his 'Herodias,' wasn't it?" She was all enthusiasm and participation107.
Pauline's heart sank. She had caught the irritated jut108 of Manford's brows. No—it was useless to try to make Kitty understand; and foolish to risk her husband's displeasure by staying in this icy room for such a purpose. She wrapped herself in sweetness as in her sables109. "It's something much more serious than that cinema nonsense. But I'm going to leave it to Dexter to explain. He will do it ever so much better than I could... Yes, Kitty dear, I remember there's a step missing in the vestibule. Please don't bother to see me out—you know Dexter's minutes are precious." She thrust Mrs. Landish softly back into the room, and made her way unattended across the hall. As she did so, the living-room door, the lock of which had responded reluctantly to her handling, swung open again, and she heard Manford ask, in his dry cross-examining voice: "Will you please tell me exactly when and for how long Lita was at Dawnside, Mrs. Landish?"
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1
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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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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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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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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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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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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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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extirpation
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| n.消灭，根除，毁灭；摘除 | |
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patio
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| n.庭院，平台 | |
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irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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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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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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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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frustration
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| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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disintegrating
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| v.（使）破裂[分裂，粉碎]，（使）崩溃( disintegrate的现在分词 ) | |
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irresolutely
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| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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frustrations
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| 挫折( frustration的名词复数 )； 失败； 挫败； 失意 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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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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overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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fad
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| n.时尚；一时流行的狂热；一时的爱好 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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bungalows
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| n.平房( bungalow的名词复数 )；单层小屋，多于一层的小屋 | |
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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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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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malleable
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| adj.(金属)可锻的;有延展性的；(性格)可训练的 | |
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motifs
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| n. （文艺作品等的）主题( motif的名词复数 )；中心思想；基本模式；基本图案 | |
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prows
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| n.船首( prow的名词复数 ) | |
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inscriptions
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| （作者）题词( inscription的名词复数 )； 献词； 碑文； 证劵持有人的登记 | |
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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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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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58
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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cynically
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| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
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tenement
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| n.公寓；房屋 | |
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61
underpinning
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| n.基础材料；基础结构；（学说、理论等的）基础；（人的）腿v.用砖石结构等从下面支撑（墙等）( underpin的现在分词 )；加固（墙等）的基础；为（论据、主张等）打下基础；加强 | |
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62
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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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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austerely
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| adv.严格地，朴质地 | |
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mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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nuns
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| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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eventual
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| adj.最后的，结局的，最终的 | |
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prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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73
swirls
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| n.旋转( swirl的名词复数 )；卷状物；漩涡；尘旋v.旋转，打旋( swirl的第三人称单数 ) | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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jauntiness
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| n.心满意足；洋洋得意；高兴；活泼 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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slaty
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| 石板一样的，石板色的 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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muddle
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| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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acquiescent
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| adj.默许的，默认的 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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repudiates
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| v.（正式地）否认( repudiate的第三人称单数 )；拒绝接受；拒绝与…往来；拒不履行（法律义务） | |
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doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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101
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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102
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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103
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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104
tragically
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| adv. 悲剧地，悲惨地 | |
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105
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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107
participation
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| n.参与，参加，分享 | |
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108
jut
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| v.突出；n.突出，突出物 | |
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109
sables
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| n.紫貂( sable的名词复数 )；紫貂皮；阴暗的；暗夜 | |
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