Mrs. Lessways’ Shrewdness
i
Waiting irresolute1 in the kitchen doorway2, Hilda passed the most thrillingly agreeable moments that destiny had ever vouchsafed3 to her. She dwelt on the mysterious, attractive quality of Mr. Cannon4’s voice,—she was sure that, though in speaking to her mother he was softly persuasive5, he had used to herself a tone even more intimate and ingratiating. He and she had a secret; they were conspirators6 together: which fact was both disconcerting and delicious. She recalled their propinquity in the lobby; the remembered syllables7 which he had uttered mingled8 with the faint scent9 of his broadcloth, the whiteness of his wristbands, the gleam of his studs, the droop10 of his moustaches, the downward ray of his glance, and the proud, nimble carriage of his great limbs,—and formed in her mind the image of an ideal. An image regarded not with any tenderness, but with na?ve admiration11, and unquestioning respect! And yet also with more than that, for when she dwelt on his glance, she had a slight transient feeling of faintness which came and went in a second, and which she did not analyse—and could not have analysed.
Clouds of fear sailed in swift capriciousness across the sky of her dreaming, obscuring it: fear of Mr. Cannon’s breath-taking initiative, fear of the upshot of her adventure, and a fear without a name. Nevertheless she exulted12. She exulted because she was in the very midst of her wondrous13 adventure and tingling14 with a thousand apprehensions15.
After a long time the latch16 of the drawing-room door cracked warningly. Hilda retired17 within the kitchen out of sight of the lobby. She knew that the child in her would compel her to wait like a child until the visitor was gone, instead of issuing forth18 boldly like a young woman. But to Florrie the young mistress with her stern dark mask and formidable eyebrows19 and air of superb disdain20 was as august as a goddess. Florrie, moving backwards21, had now got nearly to the scullery door with her wringing22 and splashing and wiping; and she had dirtied even her face. As Hilda absently looked at her, she thought somehow of Mr. Cannon’s white wristbands. She saw the washing and the ironing of those wristbands, and a slatternly woman or two sighing and grumbling23 amid wreaths of steam, and a background of cinders24 and suds and sloppiness25.... All that, so that the grand creature might have a rim26 of pure white to his coat-sleeves for a day! It was inevitable27. But the grand creature must never know. The shame necessary to his splendour must be concealed28 from him, lest he might be offended. And this was woman’s loyalty29! Her ideas concerning the business of domesticity were now mixed and opposing and irreconcileable, and she began to suspect that the bases of society might be more complex and confusing than in her youthful downrightness she had imagined.
ii
“Well, you’ve got your way!” said Mrs. Lessways, with a certain grim, disdainful cheerfulness, from which benevolence30 was not quite absent. The drastic treatment accorded to her cold seemed to have done it good. At any rate she had not resumed the flannel31 petticoat, and the nasal symptoms were much less pronounced.
“Got my way?” Hilda repeated, at a loss and newly apprehensive32.
Mother and daughter were setting tea. Florrie had been doing very well, but she was not yet quite equal to her situation, and the mistresses were now performing her lighter33 duties while she changed from the offensive drudge34 to the neat parlour-maid. Throughout the afternoon Hilda had avoided her mother’s sight; partly because she wanted to be alone (without knowing why), and partly because she was afraid lest Mr. Cannon, as a member of the older generation, might have betrayed her to her mother. This fear was not very genuine, though she pretended that it was and enjoyed playing with it: as if she really desired a catastrophe35 for the outcome of her adventure. She had only come downstairs in response to her mother’s direct summons, and instantly on seeing her she had known that Mr. Cannon was not a traitor36. Which knowledge somehow rendered her gay in spite of herself. So that, what with this gaiety, and the stimulation37 produced in Mrs. Lessways by the visit of Mr. Cannon, and the general household relief at the obvious fact that Florrie would rather more than ‘do,’ the atmosphere around the tinkling38 tea-table in the half-light was decidedly pleasant.
Nevertheless the singular turn of Mrs. Lessways’ phrase,—“You’ve got your way,”—had startled the guilty Hilda.
“Mr. Cannon’s going to see to the collecting of the Calder Street rents,” explained Mrs. Lessways. “So I hope you’re satisfied, miss.”
Hilda was aware of self-consciousness.
“Yes, you may well colour up!” Mrs. Lessways pursued, genial39 but malicious40. “You’re as pleased as Punch, and you’re saying to yourself you’ve made your old mother give way to ye again! And so you needn’t tell me!”
“I thought,” said Hilda, with all possible prim41 worldliness,—“I thought I heard him saying something about buying the property?”
Mrs. Lessways laughed, sceptically, confidently, as one who could not be deceived. “Pooh!” she said. “That was only a try-on. That was only so that he could begin his palaver42! Don’t tell me! I may be a simpleton, but I’m not such a simpleton as he thinks for, nor as some other folks think for, either!” (At this point Hilda had to admit that in truth her mother was not completely a simpleton. In her mother was a vein43 of perceptive44 shrewdness that occasionally cropped out and made all Hilda’s critical philosophy seem school-girlish.) “Do you think I don’t know George Cannon? He came here o’ purpose to get that rent-collecting. Well, he’s got it, and he’s welcome to it, for I doubt not he’ll do it a sight better than poor Mr. Skellorn! But he needn’t hug himself that he’s been too clever for me, because he hasn’t. I gave him the rent-collecting because I thought I would!... Buy! He’s no more got a good customer for Calder Street than he’s got a good customer for this slop-bowl!”
Hilda resented this casual detraction45 of a being who had so deeply impressed her. And moreover she was convinced that her mother, secretly very flattered and delighted by the visit, was adopting a derisive46 attitude in order to ‘show off’ before her daughter. Parents are thus ingenuous47! But she was so shocked and sneaped that she found it more convenient to say nothing.
“George Cannon could talk the hind48 leg off a horse,” Mrs. Lessways continued quite happily. “And yet it isn’t as if he said a great deal. He doesn’t. I’ll say this for him. He’s always the gentleman. And I couldn’t say as much for his sister being a lady, and I’m sorry for it. He’s the most gentlemanly man in Turnhill, and always so spruce, too!”
“His sister?”
“Well, his half-sister, since you’re so particular, Miss Precise!”
“Not Miss Gailey?” said Hilda, who began faintly to recall a forgotten fact of which she thought she had once been cognizant.
“Yes, Miss Gailey,” Mrs. Lessways snapped, still very genial and content. “I did hear she’s quarrelled out and out with him, too, at last!” She tightened49 her lips. “Draw the blind down.”
Miss Gailey, a spinster of superior breeding and a teacher of dancing, had in the distant past been an intimate friend of Mrs. Lessways. The friendship was legendary50 in the house, and the grand quarrel which had finally put an end to it dated in Hilda’s early memories like a historical event. For many years the two had not exchanged a word.
Mrs. Lessways lit the gas, and the china and the white cloth and the coloured fruit-jelly and the silver spoons caught the light and threw it off again, with gaiety.
“Has she swept the hearth51? Yes, she has,” said Mrs. Lessways, glancing round at the red fire.
Hilda sat down to wait, folding her hands as it were in meekness52. In a few moments Florrie entered with the teapot and the hot-water jug53. The child wore proudly a new white apron54 that was a little too long for her, and she smiled happily at Mrs. Lessways’ brief compliment on her appearance and her briskness55. She might have been in paradise.
“Come in for your cup in three minutes,” said Mrs. Lessways; and to Hilda when Florrie had whispered and gone: “Now we shall see if she can make tea. I told her very particularly this morning, and she seems quick enough.”
And when three minutes had expired Mrs. Lessways tasted the tea. Yes, it was good. It was quite good. Undeniably the water had boiled within five seconds of being poured on the leaves. There was something in this Florrie. Already she was exhibiting the mysterious quality of efficiency. The first day, being the first day, had of course not been without its discouraging moments, but on the whole Florrie had proved that she could be trusted to understand, and to do things.
“Here’s an extra piece of sugar for you,” said Mrs. Lessways, beaming, as Florrie left the parlour with her big breakfast-cup full of steaming tea, to drink with the thick bread-and-butter on the scrubbed kitchen-table, all by herself. “And don’t touch the gas in the kitchen—it’s quite high enough for young eyes,” Mrs. Lessways cried out after her.
“Little poppet!” she murmured to herself, maternally56 reflecting upon Florence’s tender youth.
iii
She was happy, was Mrs. Lessways, in her domesticity. She foresaw an immediate57 future that would be tranquil58. She was preparing herself to lean upon the reliability59 of Florrie as upon a cushion. She liked the little poppet. And she liked well-made tea and pure jelly. And she had settled the Calder Street problem; and incidentally Hilda was thereby60 placated61. Why should she not be happy? She wished for nothing else. And she was not a woman to meet trouble half-way. One of her greatest qualities was that she did not unduly62 worry. (Hilda might say that she did not worry enough, letting things go.) In spite of her cold, she yielded with more gusto than usual to the meal, and even said that if Florrie ‘continued to shape’ they would have hot toast again. Hot toast had long since been dropped from the menu, as an item too troublesome. As a rule the meals were taken hurriedly and negligently63, like a religious formality which has lost its meaning but which custom insists on.
Hilda could not but share her mother’s satisfaction. She could not entirely64 escape the soft influence of the tranquillity65 in which the household was newly bathed. The domestic existence of unmated women together, though it is full of secret exasperations, also has its hours of charm—a charm honied, perverse66, and unique. Hilda felt the charm. But she was suddenly sad, and she again found pleasure in her sadness. She was sad because her adventure was over—over too soon and too easily. She thought, now, that really she would have preferred a catastrophe as the end of it. She had got what she desired; but she was no better off than she had been before the paralytic67 stroke of Mr. Skellorn. Domesticity had closed in on her once more. Her secret adventure had become sterile68. Its risks were destroyed, and nothing could spring from it. Nevertheless it lived in her heart. After all it had been tremendous! And the virtue69 of audacious initiative was miraculous70!... Yes, her mother was shrewd enough—that could not be denied—but she was not so shrewd as she imagined; for it had never occurred to her, and it never would occur to her, even in the absurdest dream—that the author of Mr. Cannon’s visit was the girl sitting opposite to her and delicately pecking at jelly!
“How is he Miss Gailey’s half-brother?” Hilda demanded half-way through the meal.
“Why! Mrs. Gailey—Sarah Gailey’s mother, that is—married a foreigner after her first husband died.”
“But Mr. Cannon isn’t a foreigner?”
“He’s half a foreigner. Look at his eyes. Surely you knew all about that, child!... No, it was before your time.”
Hilda then learnt that Mrs. Gailey had married a French modeller named Canonges, who had been brought over from Limoges (or some such sounding place) by Peels at Bursley, the great rivals of Mintons and of Copelands. And that in course of time the modeller had informally changed the name to Cannon, because no one in the Five Towns could pronounce the true name rightly. And that George Cannon, the son of the union, had been left early an orphan71.
“How did he come to be a solicitor72?” Hilda questioned eagerly.
“They say he isn’t really a solicitor,” said Mrs. Lessways. “That is, he hasn’t passed his examinations like. But I dare say he knows as much law as a lot of ’em, and more! And he has that Mr. Karkeek to cover him like. That’s what they say.... He used to be a lawyer’s clerk—at Toms and Scoles’s, I think it was. Then he left the district for a year or two—or it might be several. And then his lordship comes back all of a sudden, and sets up with Mr. Karkeek, just like that.”
“Can he talk French?”
“Who? Mr. Cannon? He can talk English! My word, he can that! Eh, he’s a ‘customer,’ he is—a regular’ customer’!”
Hilda, instead of being seated at the table, was away in far realms of romance.
The startling thought occurred to her:
“Of course, he’ll expect me to go and see him! He’s done what I asked him, and he’ll expect me to go and see him and talk it over. And I suppose I shall have to pay him something. I’d forgotten that, and I ought not to have forgotten it.”
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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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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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conspirators
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| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
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syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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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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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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sloppiness
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| n.草率，粗心 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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drudge
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| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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stimulation
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| n.刺激，激励，鼓舞 | |
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tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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palaver
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| adj.壮丽堂皇的；n.废话，空话 | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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perceptive
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| adj.知觉的，有洞察力的，感知的 | |
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detraction
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| n.减损；诽谤 | |
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derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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51
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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52
meekness
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| n.温顺，柔和 | |
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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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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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briskness
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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56
maternally
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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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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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reliability
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| n.可靠性，确实性 | |
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60
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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61
placated
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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negligently
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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paralytic
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| adj. 瘫痪的 n. 瘫痪病人 | |
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sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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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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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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