The girls made way for him to pass them at the head of the twisting stairs which led down to the parlour. Constance followed, and Sophia followed Constance.
"Have father's chair," said Constance.
There were two rocking-chairs with fluted1 backs covered by antimacassars, one on either side of the hearth2. That to the left was still entitled "father's chair," though its owner had not sat in it since long before the Crimean war, and would never sit in it again.
"I think I'd sooner have the other one," said Mr. Povey, "because it's on the right side, you see." And he touched his right cheek.
Having taken Mrs. Baines's chair, he bent3 his face down to the fire, seeking comfort from its warmth. Sophia poked4 the fire, whereupon Mr. Povey abruptly5 withdrew his face. He then felt something light on his shoulders. Constance had taken the antimacassar from the back of the chair, and protected him with it from the draughts7. He did not instantly rebel, and therefore was permanently8 barred from rebellion. He was entrapped9 by the antimacassar. It formally constituted him an invalid10, and Constance and Sophia his nurses. Constance drew the curtain across the street door. No draught6 could come from the window, for the window was not 'made to open.' The age of ventilation had not arrived. Sophia shut the other two doors. And, each near a door, the girls gazed at Mr. Povey behind his back, irresolute11, but filled with a delicious sense of responsibility.
The situation was on a different plane now. The seriousness of Mr. Povey's toothache, which became more and more manifest, had already wiped out the ludicrous memory of the encounter in the showroom. Looking at these two big girls, with their short-sleeved black frocks and black aprons12, and their smooth hair, and their composed serious faces, one would have judged them incapable13 of the least lapse14 from an archangelic primness15; Sophia especially presented a marvellous imitation of saintly innocence16. As for the toothache, its action on Mr. Povey was apparently17 periodic; it gathered to a crisis like a wave, gradually, the torture increasing till the wave broke and left Mr. Povey exhausted18, but free for a moment from pain. These crises recurred19 about once a minute. And now, accustomed to the presence of the young virgins20, and having tacitly acknowledged by his acceptance of the antimacassar that his state was abnormal, he gave himself up frankly21 to affliction. He concealed22 nothing of his agony, which was fully23 displayed by sudden contortions24 of his frame, and frantic25 oscillations of the rocking-chair. Presently, as he lay back enfeebled in the wash of a spent wave, he murmured with a sick man's voice:
"I suppose you haven't got any laudanum?"
The girls started into life. "Laudanum, Mr. Povey?"
"Yes, to hold in my mouth."
He sat up, tense; another wave was forming. The excellent fellow was lost to all self-respect, all decency26.
"There's sure to be some in mother's cupboard," said Sophia.
Constance, who bore Mrs. Baines's bunch of keys at her girdle, a solemn trust, moved a little fearfully to a corner cupboard which was hung in the angle to the right of the projecting fireplace, over a shelf on which stood a large copper27 tea-urn. That corner cupboard, of oak inlaid with maple28 and ebony in a simple border pattern, was typical of the room. It was of a piece with the deep green "flock" wall paper, and the tea-urn, and the rocking-chairs with their antimacassars, and the harmonium in rosewood with a Chinese paper-mache tea-caddy on the top of it; even with the carpet, certainly the most curious parlour carpet that ever was, being made of lengths of the stair-carpet sewn together side by side. That corner cupboard was already old in service; it had held the medicines of generations. It gleamed darkly with the grave and genuine polish which comes from ancient use alone. The key which Constance chose from her bunch was like the cupboard, smooth and shining with years; it fitted and turned very easily, yet with a firm snap. The single wide door opened sedately29 as a portal.
The girls examined the sacred interior, which had the air of being inhabited by an army of diminutive30 prisoners, each crying aloud with the full strength of its label to be set free on a mission.
"There it is!" said Sophia eagerly.
And there it was: a blue bottle, with a saffron label, "Caution. POISON. Laudanum. Charles Critchlow, M.P.S. Dispensing31 Chemist. St. Luke's Square, Bursley."
Those large capitals frightened the girls. Constance took the bottle as she might have taken a loaded revolver, and she glanced at Sophia. Their omnipotent32, all-wise mother was not present to tell them what to do. They, who had never decided33, had to decide now. And Constance was the elder. Must this fearsome stuff, whose very name was a name of fear, be introduced in spite of printed warnings into Mr. Povey's mouth? The responsibility was terrifying.
"Perhaps I'd just better ask Mr. Critchlow," Constance faltered34.
The expectation of beneficent laudanum had enlivened Mr. Povey, had already, indeed, by a sort of suggestion, half cured his toothache.
"Oh no!" he said. "No need to ask Mr. Critchlow ... Two or three drops in a little water." He showed impatience35 to be at the laudanum.
The girls knew that an antipathy36 existed between the chemist and Mr. Povey.
"It's sure to be all right," said Sophia. "I'll get the water."
With youthful cries and alarms they succeeded in pouring four mortal dark drops (one more than Constance intended) into a cup containing a little water. And as they handed the cup to Mr. Povey their faces were the faces of affrighted comical conspirators37. They felt so old and they looked so young.
Mr. Povey imbibed38 eagerly of the potion, put the cup on the mantelpiece, and then tilted39 his head to the right so as to submerge the affected40 tooth. In this posture41 he remained, awaiting the sweet influence of the remedy. The girls, out of a nice modesty42, turned away, for Mr. Povey must not swallow the medicine, and they preferred to leave him unhampered in the solution of a delicate problem. When next they examined him, he was leaning back in the rocking-chair with his mouth open and his eyes shut.
"Has it done you any good, Mr. Povey?"
"I think I'll lie down on the sofa for a minute," was Mr. Povey's strange reply; and forthwith he sprang up and flung himself on to the horse-hair sofa between the fireplace and the window, where he lay stripped of all his dignity, a mere43 beaten animal in a grey suit with peculiar44 coat-tails, and a very creased45 waistcoat, and a lapel that was planted with pins, and a paper collar and close- fitting paper cuffs46.
Constance ran after him with the antimacassar, which she spread softly on his shoulders; and Sophia put another one over his thin little legs, all drawn47 up.
They then gazed at their handiwork, with secret self-accusations and the most dreadful misgivings48.
"He surely never swallowed it!" Constance whispered.
"He's asleep, anyhow," said Sophia, more loudly.
Mr. Povey was certainly asleep, and his mouth was very wide open-- like a shop-door. The only question was whether his sleep was not an eternal sleep; the only question was whether he was not out of his pain for ever.
Then he snored--horribly; his snore seemed a portent49 of disaster.
Sophia approached him as though he were a bomb, and stared, growing bolder, into his mouth.
"Oh, Con," she summoned her sister, "do come and look! It's too droll50!"
In an instant all their four eyes were exploring the singular landscape of Mr. Povey's mouth. In a corner, to the right of that interior, was one sizeable fragment of a tooth, that was attached to Mr. Povey by the slenderest tie, so that at each respiration51 of Mr. Povey, when his body slightly heaved and the gale52 moaned in the cavern53, this tooth moved separately, showing that its long connection with Mr. Povey was drawing to a close.
"That's the one," said Sophia, pointing. "And it's as loose as anything. Did you ever see such a funny thing?"
The extreme funniness of the thing had lulled54 in Sophia the fear of Mr. Povey's sudden death.
"I'll see how much he's taken," said Constance, preoccupied55, going to the mantelpiece.
"Why, I do believe---" Sophia began, and then stopped, glancing at the sewing-machine, which stood next to the sofa.
It was a Howe sewing-machine. It had a little tool-drawer, and in the tool-drawer was a small pair of pliers. Constance, engaged in sniffing57 at the lees of the potion in order to estimate its probable deadliness, heard the well-known click of the little tool-drawer, and then she saw Sophia nearing Mr. Povey's mouth with the pliers.
"Sophia!" she exclaimed, aghast. "What in the name of goodness are you doing?"
"Nothing," said Sophia.
The next instant Mr. Povey sprang up out of his laudanum dream.
"It jumps!" he muttered; and, after a reflective pause, "but it's much better." He had at any rate escaped death.
Sophia's right hand was behind her back.
Just then a hawker passed down King Street, crying mussels and cockles.
"Oh!" Sophia almost shrieked58. "Do let's have mussels and cockles for tea!" And she rushed to the door, and unlocked and opened it, regardless of the risk of draughts to Mr. Povey.
In those days people often depended upon the caprices of hawkers for the tastiness of their teas; but it was an adventurous59 age, when errant knights60 of commerce were numerous and enterprising. You went on to your doorstep, caught your meal as it passed, withdrew, cooked it and ate it, quite in the manner of the early Briton.
Constance was obliged to join her sister on the top step. Sophia descended61 to the second step.
"Fresh mussels and cockles all alive oh!" bawled62 the hawker, looking across the road in the April breeze. He was the celebrated63 Hollins, a professional Irish drunkard, aged56 in iniquity64, who cheerfully saluted65 magistrates66 in the street, and referred to the workhouse, which he occasionally visited, as the Bastile.
Sophia was trembling from head to foot.
"What ARE you laughing at, you silly thing?" Constance demanded.
Sophia surreptitiously showed the pliers, which she had partly thrust into her pocket. Between their points was a most perceptible, and even recognizable, fragment of Mr. Povey.
This was the crown of Sophia's career as a perpetrator of the unutterable.
"What!" Constance's face showed the final contortions of that horrified67 incredulity which is forced to believe.
Sophia nudged her violently to remind her that they were in the street, and also quite close to Mr. Povey.
"Now, my little missies," said the vile68 Hollins. "Three pence a pint69, and how's your honoured mother to-day? Yes, fresh, so help me God!"
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1
fluted
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| a.有凹槽的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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draughts
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| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
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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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entrapped
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| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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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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aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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primness
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| n.循规蹈矩，整洁 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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virgins
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| 处女，童男( virgin的名词复数 )； 童贞玛利亚（耶稣之母） | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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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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contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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dispensing
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| v.分配( dispense的现在分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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omnipotent
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| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
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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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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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antipathy
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| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
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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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imbibed
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| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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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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creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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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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misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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portent
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| n.预兆；恶兆；怪事 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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respiration
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| n.呼吸作用；一次呼吸；植物光合作用 | |
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52
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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magistrates
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| 地方法官，治安官( magistrate的名词复数 ) | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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