Edwin Clayhanger
i
The next evening, Mr. and Mrs. Orgreave, Hilda, Janet, and Alicia were in the dining-room of the Orgreaves awaiting the advent1 at the supper-table of sundry2 young men whose voices could be heard through open doors in the distance of the drawing-room.
Charlie Orgreave had won his bet: and Edwin Clayhanger was among those young men who had remained behind in the drawing-room to exchange, according to the practice of young men, ideas upon life and the world. Hilda had been introduced to him, but owing to the performance of another Beethoven symphony there had been almost no conversation before supper, and she had not heard him talk. She had stationed herself behind the grand piano, on the plea of turning over the pages for the musicians (though it was only with great uncertainty3, and in peril4 of missing the exact instant for turning, that she followed the music on the page), and from this security she had furtively6 glanced at Edwin when her task allowed. “Perhaps I was quite mistaken last night,” she said to herself. “Perhaps he is perfectly7 ordinary.” The strange thing was that she could not decide whether he was ordinary or not. At one moment his face presented no interest, at another she saw it just as she had seen it, framed in the illuminated8 aperture9 of the shop-shutters, on the previous night. Or she fancied that she saw it thus. The more she tried to distinguish between Edwin’s reality and her fancies concerning Edwin, the less she succeeded. She would pronounce positively10 that her fancies were absurd and even despicable. But this abrupt11 positiveness did not convince. Supposing that he was after all marvellous among men! During the day she had taken advantage of the mention of his name to ascertain12 discreetly13 some details of the legendary14 feat15 by which as a boy he had saved his father’s printing-shop from destruction. The details were vague, and not very comprehensible, but they seemed to indicate on his part an astounding16 presence of mind, a heroic promptitude in action. Assuredly, the Orgreaves regarded him as a creature out of the common run. And at the same time they all had the air of feeling rather sorry for him.
Standing17 near the supper-table, Hilda listened intently for the sound of his voice among the other voices in the drawing-room. But she could not separate it from the rest. Perhaps he was keeping silence. She said to herself: “Yet what do I care whether he is keeping silence or not?”
Mr. Orgreave remarked, in the suspense18, glancing ironically at his wife:
“I think I’ll go upstairs and do an hour’s planning. They aren’t likely to be more than an hour, I expect?”
“Hilda,” said Mrs. Orgreave, quite calm, but taking her husband quite seriously, “will you please go and tell those young men from me that supper is waiting?”
ii
Of course Hilda obeyed, though it appeared strange to her that Mrs. Orgreave had not sent Alicia on such an errand. Passing out of the bright dining-room where the gas was lit, she hesitated a moment in the dark broad corridor that led to the drawing-room. The mission, she felt, would make her rather prominent in front of Edwin Clayhanger, the stranger, and she had an objection to being prominent in front of him; she had, indeed, taken every possible precaution against such a danger. “How silly I am to loiter here!” she thought. “I might be Alicia!”
The boys, she could now hear, were discussing French literature, and in particular Victor Hugo. When she caught the name of Victor Hugo she lifted her chin, and moved forward a little. She worshipped Victor Hugo with a passion unreflecting and intense, simply because certain detached lines from his poems were the most splendid occupants of her memory, dignifying19 every painful or sordid20 souvenir. At last Charlie’s clear, gay voice said:
“It’s all very well, and Victor Hugo is Victor Hugo; but you can say what you like—there’s a lot of this that’ll bear skipping, your worships.”
Already she was at the doorway21. In the dusk of the unlighted chamber22 the faces of the four Orgreaves and Clayhanger showed like pale patches on the gloom.
“Not a line!” she said fiercely, with her extremely clear articulation23. She had no right to make such a statement, for she had not read the twentieth part of Victor Hugo’s work; she did not even know what book they were discussing—Charlie held the volume lightly in his hand—but she was incensed24 against the mere25 levity26 of Charlie’s tone.
She saw Edwin Clayhanger jump at the startling interruption. And all five looked round. She could feel her face burning.
Charlie quizzed her with a word, and then turned to Edwin Clayhanger for support. “Don’t you think that some of it’s dullish, Teddy?”
Edwin Clayhanger, shamefaced, looked at Hilda wistfully, as if in apology, as if appealing to her clemency27 against her fierceness; and said slowly:
“Well—yes.”
He had agreed with Charlie; but while disagreeing with Hilda he had mysteriously proved to her that she had been right in saying to herself on the previous evening: “I like him.”
The incident appeared to her to be enormous and dramatic. She moved away, as it were breathless under emotion, and then, remembering her errand, threw over her shoulder:
“Mrs. Orgreave wants to know when you’re coming to supper.”
iii
The supper-table was noisy and joyous—more than usually so on account of the presence of Charlie, the gayest member of the family. At either end of the long, white-spread board sat Mr. and Mrs. Orgreave; Alicia stood by Mr. Orgreave, who accepted her caresses28 with the negligence29 of a handsome father. Along one side sat Hilda, next to Janet, and these two were flanked by Jimmie and Johnnie, tall, unbending, apparently30 determined31 to prove by a politely supercilious32 demeanor33 that to pass a whole evening thus in the home circle was considered by them to be a concession34 on their part rather than a privilege. Edwin Clayhanger sat exactly opposite to Hilda, with Charlie for sponsor; and Tom’s spectacles gleamed close by.
Hilda, while still constrained35, was conscious of pleasure in the scene, and of a certain pride in forming part of it. These prodigal36 and splendid persons respected and liked her, even loved her. Her recitation on the previous evening had been a triumph. She was glad that she had shown them that she could at any rate do one thing rather well; but she was equally glad that she had obtained Janet’s promise to avoid any discussion of her qualities or her situation. After all, with her self-conscious restraint and her pitiful assured income of three pounds a week, she was a poor little creature compared with the easy, luxurious37 beings of this household, whose upkeep could not cost less than three pounds a day. Janet, in rich and complicated white, and glistening38 with jewels at hand and neck, was a princess beside her. She hated her spare black frock, and for the second time in her life desired expensive clothes markedly feminine. She felt that she was at a grave disadvantage, and that to remedy this disadvantage would be necessary, not only dresses and precious stones, but an instinctive39 faculty40 of soft allurement41 which she had not. Each gesture of Janet’s showed seductive grace, while her own rare gestures were stiffened42 by a kind of masculine harshness. Every time that the sad-eyed and modest Edwin Clayhanger glanced at Janet, and included herself in the glance, she fancied that he was unjustly but inevitably43 misprising herself. And at length she thought: “Why did I make Janet promise that I shouldn’t be talked about? Why shouldn’t he know all about my mourning, and that I’m the only girl in the Five Towns that can write shorthand. Why should I be afraid to recite again? However much I might have suffered through nervousness if I’d recited, I should have shown I’m not such a poor little thing as all that! Why am I such a baby?” She wilted44 under her own disdain45.
It was strange to think that Edwin Clayhanger, scarcely older than the irresponsible Charlie, was the heir to an important business, was potentially a rich and influential46 man. Had not Mr. Orgreave said that old Mr. Clayhanger could buy up all the Orgreaves if he chose? It was strange to think that this wistful and apparently timid young man, this nice boy, would one day be the head of a household, and of a table such as this! Yes, it would assuredly arrive! Everything happened. And the mother of that household? Would it be she? Her imagination leaped far into the future, as she exchanged a quiet, furtive5 smile with Mrs. Orgreave, and she tried to see herself as another Mrs. Orgreave, a strenuous47 and passionate48 past behind her, honoured, beloved, teased, adored. But she could not quite see herself thus. Impossible that she, with her temperament49 so feverish50, restive51, and peculiar52, should ever reach such a haven53! It was fantastically too much to expect! And yet, if not with Edwin Clayhanger, then with another, with some mysterious being whom she had never seen!... Did not everything happen?... But then, equally, strange and terrible misfortunes might be lying in wait for her!... The indescribable sharp savour of life was in her nostrils54.
iv
The conversation had turned upon Bradlaugh, the shameless free-thinker, the man who had known how to make himself the centre of discussion in every house in England. This was the Bradlaugh year, the apogee55 of his notoriety. Dozens of times at the Cedar’s meal-table had she heard the shocking name of Bradlaugh on outraged56 tongues, but never once had a word been uttered in his favour. The public opinion of the boarding-house was absolutely unanimous in reckoning him a scoundrel. In the dining-room of the Orgreaves the attitude towards him was different. His free-thought was not precisely57 defended, but champions of his right to sit in the House of Commons were numerous. Hilda grew excited, and even more self-conscious. It was as if she were in momentary58 expectation of being challenged by these hardy59 debaters: “Are not you a free-thinker?” Her interest was personal; the interest of one in peril. Compared to the discussions at the Cedars60, this discussion was as the open, tossing, windy sea to a weed-choked canal. The talk veered61 into mere profane62 politics, and Mr. Orgreave, entrenching63 himself behind an assumption of careless disdain, was severely64 attacked by all his sons except Jimmie, who, above Hilda’s left shoulder, pretended to share the paternal65 scorn. The indifference66 of Hilda to politics was complete. She began to feel less disturbed; she began to dream. Then she suddenly heard, through her dream, the name of Bradlaugh again; and Edwin Clayhanger, in response to a direct question from Mr. Orgreave, was saying:
“You can’t help what you believe. You can’t make yourself believe anything. And I don’t see why you should, either. There’s no virtue67 in believing.”
And Tom was crying “Hooray!”
Hilda was thunderstruck. She was blinded as though by a mystic revelation. She wanted to exult68, and to exult with all the ardour of her soul. This truth which Edwin Clayhanger had enunciated69 she had indeed always been vaguely70 aware of; but now in a flash she felt it, she faced it, she throbbed71 to its authenticity72, and was free. It solved every difficulty, and loosed the load that for months past had wearied her back. “There’s no virtue in believing.” It was fundamental. It was the gift of life and of peace. Her soul shouted, as she realized that just there, in that instant, at that table, a new epoch73 had dawned for her. Never would she forget the instant and the scene—scene of her rebirth!
Mrs. Orgreave remonstrated74 with mild sadness:
“No virtue in believing! Eh, Mr. Edwin!” And Hilda, under the ageing lady’s grieved glance, tried to quench75 the exultation76 on her face, somewhat like a child trapped. But she could not. Tom again cried “Hooray!” His tone, however, grated on her sensibility. It lacked emotion. It was the tone of a pugilist’s backer. And Janet permitted herself some pleasantry. And Charlie became frankly77 facetious78. Was it conceivable that Charlie could be interested in religion? She liked him very much, partly because he and she had learnt to understand each other at the dancing-classes, and partly because his curly hair and his candid79 smile compelled sympathy. But her esteem80 for him had limits. It was astonishing that a family otherwise simply perfect should be content with jocosity81 when jocosity was so obviously out of place. Were they, then, afraid of being serious?... Edwin Clayhanger was not laughing; he had blushed. Her eyes were fixed82 on him with the extremest intensity83, studying him, careless of the danger that his gaze might catch hers. She was lost in him. And then, he caught her; and, burning with honest shame, she looked downwards84.
收听单词发音 |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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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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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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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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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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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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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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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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dignifying
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| 使显得威严( dignify的现在分词 )； 使高贵； 使显赫； 夸大 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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articulation
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| n.（清楚的）发音；清晰度，咬合 | |
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incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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clemency
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| n.温和，仁慈，宽厚 | |
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caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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negligence
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| n.疏忽，玩忽，粗心大意 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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demeanor
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| n.行为；风度 | |
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concession
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| n.让步，妥协；特许(权) | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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allurement
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| n.诱惑物 | |
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stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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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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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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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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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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apogee
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| n.远地点；极点；顶点 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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veered
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| v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的过去式和过去分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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entrenching
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| v.用壕沟围绕或保护…( entrench的现在分词 )；牢固地确立… | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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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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exult
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| v.狂喜，欢腾；欢欣鼓舞 | |
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enunciated
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| v.（清晰地）发音( enunciate的过去式和过去分词 )；确切地说明 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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authenticity
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| n.真实性 | |
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epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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quench
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| vt.熄灭，扑灭；压制 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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jocosity
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| n.诙谐 | |
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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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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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