As soon as school was dismissed Lewisham made a gaol-delivery of his outstanding impositions, and hurried back to his lodgings1, to spend the time until his dinner was ready--Well?... It seems hardly fair, perhaps, to Lewisham to tell this; it is doubtful, indeed, whether a male novelist's duty to his sex should not restrain him, but, as the wall in the shadow by the diamond-framed window insisted, "_Magna est veritas et prevalebit_." Mr. Lewisham brushed his hair with elaboration, and ruffled2 it picturesquely3, tried the effect of all his ties and selected a white one, dusted his boots with an old pocket-handkerchief, changed his trousers because the week-day pair was minutely frayed4 at the heels, and inked the elbows of his coat where the stitches were a little white. And, to be still more intimate, he studied his callow appearance in the glass from various points of view, and decided5 that his nose might have been a little smaller with advantage....
Directly after dinner he went out, and by the shortest path to the allotment lane, telling himself he did not care if he met Bonover forthwith in the street. He did not know precisely6 what he intended to do, but he was quite clear that he meant to see the girl he had met in the avenue. He knew he should see her. A sense of obstacles merely braced7 him and was pleasurable. He went up the stone steps out of the lane to the stile that overlooked the Frobishers, the stile from which he had watched the Frobisher bedroom. There he seated himself with his arms, folded, in full view of the house.
That was at ten minutes to two. At twenty minutes to three he was still sitting there, but his hands were deep in his jacket pockets, and he was scowling8 and kicking his foot against the step with an impatient monotony. His needless glasses had been thrust into his waistcoat pocket--where they remained throughout the afternoon--and his cap was tilted9 a little back from his forehead and exposed a wisp of hair. One or two people had gone down the lane, and he had pretended not to see them, and a couple of hedge-sparrows chasing each other along the side of the sunlit, wind-rippled field had been his chief entertainment. It is unaccountable, no doubt, but he felt angry with her as the time crept on. His expression lowered.
He heard someone going by in the lane behind him. He would not look round--it annoyed him to think of people seeing him in this position. His once eminent10 discretion11, though overthrown12, still made muffled13 protests at the afternoon's enterprise. The feet down the lane stopped close at hand.
"Stare away," said Lewisham between his teeth. And then began mysterious noises, a violent rustle14 of hedge twigs15, a something like a very light foot-tapping.
Curiosity boarded Lewisham and carried him after the briefest struggle. He looked round, and there she was, her back to him, reaching after the spiky16 blossoming blackthorn that crested17 the opposite hedge. Remarkable18 accident! She had not seen him!
In a moment Lewisham's legs were flying over the stile. He went down the steps in the bank with such impetus19 that it carried him up into the prickly bushes beside her. "Allow me," he said, too excited to see she was not astonished.
"Mr. Lewisham!" she said in feigned20 surprise, and stood away to give him room at the blackthorn.
"Which spike21 will you have?" he cried, overjoyed. "The whitest? The highest? Any!"
"That piece," she chose haphazard22, "with the black spike sticking out from it."
A mass of snowy blossom it was against the April sky, and Lewisham, straggling for it--it was by no means the most accessible--saw with fantastic satisfaction a lengthy23 scratch flash white on his hand, and turn to red.
"Higher up the lane," he said, descending24 triumphant25 and breathless, "there is blackthorn.... This cannot compare for a moment...."
She laughed and looked at him as he stood there flushed, his eyes triumphant, with an unpremeditated approval. In church, in the gallery, with his face foreshortened, he had been effective in a way, but this was different. "Show me," she said, though she knew this was the only place for blackthorn for a mile in either direction.
"I _knew_ I should see you," he said, by way of answer, "I felt sure I should see you to-day."
"It was our last chance almost," she answered with as frank a quality of avowal26. "I'm going home to London on Monday."
"I knew," he cried in triumph. "To Clapham?" he asked.
"Yes. I have got a situation. You did not know that I was a shorthand clerk and typewriter, did you? I am. I have just left the school, the Grogram School. And now there is an old gentleman who wants an amanuensis."
"So you know shorthand?" said he. "That accounts for the stylographic pen. Those lines were written.... I have them still."
She smiled and raised her eyebrows27. "Here," said Mr. Lewisham, tapping his breast-pocket.
"This lane," he said--their talk was curiously28 inconsecutive--"some way along this lane, over the hill and down, there is a gate, and that goes--I mean, it opens into the path that runs along the river bank. Have you been?"
"No," she said.
"It's the best walk about Whortley. It brings you out upon Immering Common. You _must_--before you go."
"_Now_?" she said with her eyes dancing.
"Why not?"
"I told Mrs. Frobisher I should be back by four," she said.
"It's a walk not to be lost."
"Very well," said she.
"The trees are all budding," said Mr. Lewisham, "the rushes are shooting, and all along the edge of the river there are millions of little white flowers floating on the water, _I_ don't know the names of them, but they're fine.... May I carry that branch of blossom?"
As he took it their hands touched momentarily ... and there came another of those significant gaps.
"Look at those clouds," said Lewisham abruptly29, remembering the remark he had been about to make and waving the white froth of blackthorn, "And look at the blue between them."
"It's perfectly30 splendid. Of all the fine weather the best has been kept for now. My last day. My very last day."
And off these two young people went together in a highly electrical state--to the infinite astonishment31 of Mrs. Frobisher, who was looking out of the attic32 window--stepping out manfully and finding the whole world lit and splendid for their entertainment. The things they discovered and told each other that afternoon down by the river!--that spring was wonderful, young leaves beautiful, bud scales astonishing things, and clouds dazzling and stately!--with an air of supreme33 originality34! And their naive35 astonishment to find one another in agreement upon these novel delights! It seemed to them quite outside the play of accident that they should have met each other.
They went by the path that runs among the trees along the river bank, and she must needs repent36 and wish to take the lower one, the towing path, before they had gone three hundred yards. So Lewisham had to find a place fit for her descent, where a friendly tree proffered37 its protruding38 roots as a convenient balustrade, and down she clambered with her hand in his.
Then a water-vole washing his whiskers gave occasion for a sudden touching39 of hands and the intimate confidence of whispers and silence together. After which Lewisham essayed to gather her a marsh40 mallow at the peril41, as it was judged, of his life, and gained it together with a bootful of water. And at the gate by the black and shiny lock, where the path breaks away from the river, she overcame him by an unexpected feat42, climbing gleefully to the top rail with the support of his hand, and leaping down, a figure of light and grace, to the ground.
They struck boldly across the meadows, which were gay with lady's smock, and he walked, by special request, between her and three matronly cows--feeling as Perseus might have done when he fended43 off the sea-monster. And so by the mill, and up a steep path to Immering Common. Across the meadows Lewisham had broached44 the subject of her occupation. "And are you really going away from here to be an amanuensis?" he said, and started her upon the theme of herself, a theme she treated with a specialist's enthusiasm. They dealt with it by the comparative methods and neither noticed the light was out of the sky until the soft feet of the advancing shower had stolen right upon them.
"Look!" said he. "Yonder! A shed," and they ran together. She ran laughing, and yet swiftly and lightly. He pulled her through the hedge by both hands, and released her skirt from an amorous45 bramble, and so they came into a little black shed in which a rusty47 harrow of gigantic proportions sheltered. He noted48 how she still kept her breath after that run.
She sat down on the harrow and hesitated. "I _must_ take off my hat," she said, "that rain will spot it," and so he had a chance of admiring the sincerity49 of her curls--not that he had ever doubted them. She stooped over her hat, pocket-handkerchief in hand, daintily wiping off the silvery drops. He stood up at the opening of the shed and looked at the country outside through the veil of the soft vehemence50 of the April shower.
"There's room for two on this harrow," she said.
He made inarticulate sounds of refusal, and then came and sat down beside her, close beside her, so that he was almost touching her. He felt a fantastic desire to take her in his arms and kiss her, and overcame the madness by an effort. "I don't even know your name," he said, taking refuge from his whirling thoughts in conversation.
"Henderson," she said.
"_Miss_ Henderson?"
She smiled in his face--hesitated. "Yes--_Miss_ Henderson."
Her eyes, her atmosphere were wonderful. He had never felt quite the same sensation before, a strange excitement, almost like a faint echo of tears. He was for demanding her Christian51 name. For calling her "dear" and seeing what she would say. He plunged52 headlong into a rambling53 description of Bonover and how he had told a lie about her and called her Miss Smith, and so escaped this unaccountable emotional crisis....
The whispering of the rain about them sank and died, and the sunlight struck vividly54 across the distant woods beyond Immering. Just then they had fallen on a silence again that was full of daring thoughts for Mr. Lewisham. He moved his arm suddenly and placed it so that it was behind her on the frame of the harrow.
"Let us go on now," she said abruptly. "The rain has stopped."
"That little path goes straight to Immering," said Mr. Lewisham.
"But, four o'clock?"
He drew out his watch, and his eyebrows went up. It was already nearly a quarter past four.
"Is it past four?" she asked, and abruptly they were face to face with parting. That Lewisham had to take "duty" at half-past five seemed a thing utterly55 trivial. "Surely," he said, only slowly realising what this parting meant. "But must you? I--I want to talk to you."
"Haven't you been talking to me?"
"It isn't that. Besides--no."
She stood looking at him. "I promised to be home by four," she said. "Mrs. Frobisher has tea...."
"We may never have a chance to see one another again."
"Well?"
Lewisham suddenly turned very white.
"Don't leave me," he said, breaking a tense silence and with a sudden stress in his voice. "Don't leave me. Stop with me yet--for a little while.... You ... You can lose your way."
"You seem to think," she said, forcing a laugh, "that I live without eating and drinking."
"I have wanted to talk to you so much. The first time I saw you.... At first I dared not.... I did not know you would let me talk.... And now, just as I am--happy, you are going."
He stopped abruptly. Her eyes were downcast. "No," she said, tracing a curve with the point of her shoe. "No. I am not going."
Lewisham restrained an impulse to shout. "You will come to Immering?" he cried, and as they went along the narrow path through the wet grass, he began to tell her with simple frankness how he cared for her company, "I would not change this," he said, casting about for an offer to reject, "for--anything in the world.... I shall not be back for duty. I don't care. I don't care what happens so long as we have this afternoon."
"Nor I," she said.
"Thank you for coming," he said in an outburst of gratitude56.--"Oh, thank you for coming," and held out his hand. She took it and pressed it, and so they went on hand in hand until the village street was reached. Their high resolve to play truant57 at all costs had begotten58 a wonderful sense of fellowship. "I can't call you Miss Henderson," he said. "You know I can't. You know ... I must have your Christian name."
"Ethel," she told him.
"Ethel," he said and looked at her, gathering59 courage as he did so. "Ethel," he repeated. "It is a pretty name. But no name is quite pretty enough for you, Ethel ... _dear_."...
The little shop in Immering lay back behind a garden full of wallflowers, and was kept by a very fat and very cheerful little woman, who insisted on regarding them as brother and sister, and calling them both "dearie." These points conceded she gave them an admirable tea of astonishing cheapness. Lewisham did not like the second condition very much, because it seemed to touch a little on his latest enterprise. But the tea and the bread and butter and the whort jam were like no food on earth. There were wallflowers, heavy scented60, in a jug61 upon the table, and Ethel admired them, and when they set out again the little old lady insisted on her taking a bunch with her.
It was after they left Immering that this ramble46, properly speaking, became scandalous. The sun was already a golden ball above the blue hills in the west--it turned our two young people into little figures of flame--and yet, instead of going homeward, they took the Wentworth road that plunges62 into the Forshaw woods. Behind them the moon, almost full, hung in the blue sky above the tree-tops, ghostly and indistinct, and slowly gathered to itself such light as the setting sun left for it in the sky.
Going out of Immering they began to talk of the future. And for the very young lover there is no future but the immediate63 future.
"You must write to me," he said, and she told him she wrote such _silly_ letters. "But I shall have reams to write to you," he told her.
"How are you to write to me?" she asked, and they discussed a new obstacle between them. It would never do to write home--never. She was sure of that with an absolute assurance. "My mother--" she said and stopped.
That prohibition64 cut him, for at that time he had the makings of a voluminous letter-writer. Yet it was only what one might expect. The whole world was unpropitious--obdurate indeed.... A splendid isolation65 _a deux_.
Perhaps she might find some place where letters might be sent to her? Yet that seemed to her deceitful.
So these two young people wandered on, full of their discovery of love, and yet so full too of the shyness of adolescence66 that the word "Love" never passed their lips that day. Yet as they talked on, and the kindly67 dusk gathered about them, their speech and their hearts came very close together. But their speech would seem so threadbare, written down in cold blood, that I must not put it here. To them it was not threadbare.
When at last they came down the long road into Whortley, the silent trees were black as ink and the moonlight made her face pallid68 and wonderful, and her eyes shone like stars. She still carried the blackthorn from which most of the blossoms had fallen. The fragrant69 wallflowers were fragrant still. And far away, softened70 by the distance, the Whortley band, performing publicly outside the vicarage for the first time that year, was playing with unctuous71 slowness a sentimental72 air. I don't know if the reader remembers it that, favourite melody of the early eighties:--
"Sweet dreamland faces, passing to and fro, (pum, pum)
Bring back to Mem'ry days of long ago-o-o-oh,"
was the essence of it, very slow and tender and with an accompaniment of pum, pum. Pathetically cheerful that pum, pum, hopelessly cheerful indeed against the dirge73 of the air, a dirge accentuated74 by sporadic75 vocalisation. But to young people things come differently.
"I _love_ music," she said.
"So do I," said he.
They came on down the steepness of West Street. They walked athwart the metallic76 and leathery tumult77 of sound into the light cast by the little circle of yellow lamps. Several people saw them and wondered what the boys and girls were coming to nowadays, and one eye-witness even subsequently described their carriage as "brazen78." Mr. Lewisham was wearing his mortarboard cap of office--there was no mistaking him. They passed the Proprietary79 School and saw a yellow picture framed and glazed80, of Mr. Bonover taking duty for his aberrant81 assistant master. And outside the Frobisher house at last they parted perforce.
"Good-bye," he said for the third time. "Good-bye, Ethel."
She hesitated. Then suddenly she darted82 towards him. He felt her hands upon his shoulders, her lips soft and warm upon his cheek, and before he could take hold of her she had eluded83 him, and had flitted into the shadow of the house. "Good-bye," came her sweet, clear voice out of the shadow, and while he yet hesitated an answer, the door opened.
He saw her, black in the doorway84, heard some indistinct words, and then the door closed and he was alone in the moonlight, his cheek still glowing from her lips....
So ended Mr. Lewisham's first day with Love.
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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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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picturesquely
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frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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spiky
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| adj.长而尖的，大钉似的 | |
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crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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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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impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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spike
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| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
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haphazard
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| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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avowal
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| n.公开宣称，坦白承认 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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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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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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protruding
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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fended
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| v.独立生活，照料自己( fend的过去式和过去分词 )；挡开，避开 | |
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broached
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| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
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amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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truant
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| n.懒惰鬼，旷课者；adj.偷懒的，旷课的，游荡的；v.偷懒，旷课 | |
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begotten
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| v.为…之生父( beget的过去分词 )；产生，引起 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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adolescence
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| n.青春期，青少年 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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unctuous
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| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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dirge
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| n.哀乐，挽歌，庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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accentuated
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| v.重读( accentuate的过去式和过去分词 )；使突出；使恶化；加重音符号于 | |
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sporadic
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| adj.偶尔发生的 [反]regular；分散的 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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proprietary
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| n.所有权，所有的；独占的；业主 | |
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glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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aberrant
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| adj.畸变的，异常的，脱离常轨的 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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