wessex tales-第24章

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which　had　a　curious　youthful　cadence　in　it　even　now。

'My　father　is　dead；　sir；'　said　the　young　man。

'Ah；　I　am　sorry　to　hear　it；'　said　the　stranger。　　'But　it　is　so　many
years　since　I　last　visited　this　town　that　I　could　hardly　expect　it
should　be　otherwise。'　　After　a　short　silence　he　continued'And　is
the　firm　of　Barnet；　Browse；　and　Company　still　in　existence？they
used　to　be　large　flax…merchants　and　twine…spinners　here？'

'The　firm　is　still　going　on；　sir；　but　they　have　dropped　the　name　of
Barnet。　　I　believe　that　was　a　sort　of　fancy　nameat　least；　I　never
knew　of　any　living　Barnet。　　'Tis　now　Browse　and　Co。'

'And　does　Andrew　Jones　still　keep　on　as　architect？'

'He's　dead；　sir。'

'And　the　Vicar　of　St。　Mary'sMr。　Melrose？'

'He's　been　dead　a　great　many　years。'

'Dear　me！'　　He　paused　yet　longer；　and　cleared　his　voice。　　'Is　Mr。
Downe；　the　solicitor；　still　in　practice？'

'No；　sir；　he's　dead。　　He　died　about　seven　years　ago。'

Here　it　was　a　longer　silence　still；　and　an　attentive　observer　would
have　noticed　that　the　paper　in　the　stranger's　hand　increased　its
imperceptible　tremor　to　a　visible　shake。　　That　gray…haired　gentleman
noticed　it　himself；　and　rested　the　paper　on　the　counter。　　'Is　MRS。
Downe　still　alive？'　he　asked；　closing　his　lips　firmly　as　soon　as　the
words　were　out　of　his　mouth；　and　dropping　his　eyes。

'Yes；　sir；　she's　alive　and　well。　　She's　living　at　the　old　place。'

'In　East　Street？'

'O　no；　at　Chateau　Ringdale。　　I　believe　it　has　been　in　the　family　for
some　generations。'

'She　lives　with　her　children；　perhaps？'

'No；　she　has　no　children　of　her　own。　　There　were　some　Miss　Downes；　I
think　they　were　Mr。　Downe's　daughters　by　a　former　wife；　but　they　are
married　and　living　in　other　parts　of　the　town。　　Mrs。　Downe　lives
alone。'

'Quite　alone？'

'Yes；　sir；　quite　alone。'

The　newly…arrived　gentleman　went　back　to　the　hotel　and　dined；　after
which　he　made　some　change　in　his　dress；　shaved　back　his　beard　to　the
fashion　that　had　prevailed　twenty　years　earlier；　when　he　was　young
and　interesting；　and　once　more　emerging；　bent　his　steps　in　the
direction　of　the　harbour…road。　　Just　before　getting　to　the　point
where　the　pavement　ceased　and　the　houses　isolated　themselves；　he
overtook　a　shambling；　stooping；　unshaven　man；　who　at　first　sight
appeared　like　a　professional　tramp；　his　shoulders　having　a
perceptible　greasiness　as　they　passed　under　the　gaslight。　　Each
pedestrian　momentarily　turned　and　regarded　the　other；　and　the　tramp…
like　gentleman　started　back。

'Goodwhyis　that　Mr。　Barnet？　　'Tis　Mr。　Barnet；　surely！'

'Yes；　and　you　are　Charlson？'

'Yesahyou　notice　my　appearance。　　The　Fates　have　rather　ill…used
me。　　By…the…bye；　that　fifty　pounds。　　I　never　paid　it；　did　I？　。　。　。
But　I　was　not　ungrateful！'　　Here　the　stooping　man　laid　one　hand
emphatically　on　the　palm　of　the　other。　　'I　gave　you　a　chance；　Mr。
George　Barnet；　which　many　men　would　have　thought　full　value
receivedthe　chance　to　marry　your　Lucy。　　As　far　as　the　world　was
concerned；　your　wife　was　a　DROWNED　WOMAN；　hey？'

'Heaven　forbid　all　that；　Charlson！'

'Well；　well；　'twas　a　wrong　way　of　showing　gratitude；　I　suppose。　　And
now　a　drop　of　something　to　drink　for　old　acquaintance'　sake！　　And
Mr。　Barnet；　she's　again　freethere's　a　chance　now　if　you　care　for
itha；　ha！'　　And　the　speaker　pushed　his　tongue　into　his　hollow
cheek　and　slanted　his　eye　in　the　old　fashion。

'I　know　all；'　said　Barnet　quickly；　and　slipping　a　small　present　into
the　hands　of　the　needy；　saddening　man；　he　stepped　ahead　and　was　soon
in　the　outskirts　of　the　town。

He　reached　the　harbour…road；　and　paused　before　the　entrance　to　a
well…known　house。　　It　was　so　highly　bosomed　in　trees　and　shrubs
planted　since　the　erection　of　the　building　that　one　would　scarcely
have　recognized　the　spot　as　that　which　had　been　a　mere　neglected
slope　till　chosen　as　a　site　for　a　dwelling。　　He　opened　the　swing…
gate；　closed　it　noiselessly；　and　gently　moved　into　the　semicircular
drive；　which　remained　exactly　as　it　had　been　marked　out　by　Barnet　on
the　morning　when　Lucy　Savile　ran　in　to　thank　him　for　procuring　her
the　post　of　governess　to　Downe's　children。　　But　the　growth　of　trees
and　bushes　which　revealed　itself　at　every　step　was　beyond　all
expectation；　sun…proof　and　moon…proof　bowers　vaulted　the　walks；　and
the　walls　of　the　house　were　uniformly　bearded　with　creeping　plants
as　high　as　the　first…floor　windows。

After　lingering　for　a　few　minutes　in　the　dusk　of　the　bending　boughs；
the　visitor　rang　the　door…bell；　and　on　the　servant　appearing；　he
announced　himself　as　'an　old　friend　of　Mrs。　Downe's。'

The　hall　was　lighted；　but　not　brightly；　the　gas　being　turned　low；　as
if　visitors　were　rare。　　There　was　a　stagnation　in　the　dwelling；　it
seemed　to　be　waiting。　　Could　it　really　be　waiting　for　him？　　The
partitions　which　had　been　probed　by　Barnet's　walking…stick　when　the
mortar　was　green；　were　now　quite　brown　with　the　antiquity　of　their
varnish；　and　the　ornamental　woodwork　of　the　staircase；　which　had
glistened　with　a　pale　yellow　newness　when　first　erected；　was　now　of
a　rich　wine…colour。　　During　the　servant's　absence　the　following
colloquy　could　be　dimly　heard　through　the　nearly　closed　door　of　the
drawing…room。

'He　didn't　give　his　name？'

'He　only　said　〃an　old　friend；〃　ma'am。'

'What　kind　of　gentleman　is　he？'

'A　staidish　gentleman；　with　gray　hair。'

The　voice　of　the　second　speaker　seemed　to　affect　the　listener
greatly。　　After　a　pause；　the　lady　said；　'Very　well；　I　will　see　him。'

And　the　stranger　was　shown　in　face　to　face　with　the　Lucy　who　had
once　been　Lucy　Savile。　　The　round　cheek　of　that　formerly　young　lady
had；　of　course；　alarmingly　flattened　its　curve　in　her　modern
representative；　a　pervasive　grayness　overspread　her　once　dark　brown
hair；　like　morning　rime　on　heather。　　The　parting　down　the　middle　was
wide　and　jagged；　once　it　had　been　a　thin　white　line；　a　narrow
crevice　between　two　high　banks　of　shade。　　But　there　was　still　enough
left　to　form　a　handsome　knob　behind；　and　some　curls　beneath
inwrought　with　a　few　hairs　like　silver　wires　were　very　becoming。　　In
her　eyes　the　only　modification　was　that　their　originally　mild
rectitude　of　expression　had　become　a　little　more　stringent　than
heretofore。　　Yet　she　was　still　girlisha　girl　who　had　been
gratuitously　weighted　by　destiny　with　a　burden　of　five…and…forty
years　instead　of　her　proper　twenty。

'Lucy；　don't　you　know　me？'　he　said；　when　the　servant　had　closed　the
door。

'I　knew　you　the　instant　I　saw　you！'　she　returned　cheerfully。　　'I
don't　know　why；　but　I　always　thought　you　would　come　back　to　your　old
town　again。'

She　gave　him　her　hand；　and　then　they　sat　down。　　'They　said　you　were
dead；'　continued　Lucy；　'but　I　never　thought　so。　　We　should　have
heard　of　it　for　certain　if　you　had　been。'

'It　is　a　very　long　time　since　we　met。'

'Yes；　what　you　must　have　seen；　Mr。　Barnet；　in　all　these　roving
years；　in　comparison　with　what　I　have　seen　in　this　quiet　place！'
Her　face　grew　more　serious。　　'You　know　my　husband　has　been　dead　a
long　time？　　I　am　a　lonely　old　woman　now；　considering　what　I　have
been；　though　Mr。　Downe's　daughtersall　marriedmanage　to　keep　me
pretty　cheerful。'

'And　I　am　a　lonely　old　man；　and　have　been　any　time　these　twenty
years。'

'But　where　have　you　kept　yourself？　　And　why　did　you　go　off　so
mysteriously？'

'Well；　Lucy；　I　have　kept　myself　a　little　in　America；　and　a　little　in
Australia；　a　little　in　India；　a　little　at　the　Cape；　and　so　on；　I
have　not　stayed　in　any　place　for　a　long　time；　as　it　seems　to　me；　and
yet　more　than　twenty　years　have　flown。　　But　when　people　get　to　my
age　two　years　go　like　one！Your　second　question；　why　did　I　go　away
so　mysteriously；　is　surely　not　necessary。　　You　guessed　why；　didn't
you？'

'No；　I　never　once　guessed；'　she　said　simply；　'nor　did　Charles；　nor
did　anybody　as　far　as　I　know。'

'Well；　indeed！　　Now　think　it　over　again；　and　then　look　at　me；　and
say　if　you　can't　guess？'

She　looked　him　in　the　face　with　an　inquiring　smile。　　'Surely　not
because　of　me？'　she　said；　pausing　at　the　commencement　of　surprise。

Barnet　nodded；　and　smiled　again；　but　his　smile　was　sadder　than　hers。

'Because　I　married　Charles？'　she　asked。

'Yes；　solely　because　you　married　him　on　the　day　I　was　free　to　ask
you　to　marry　me。　　My　wife　died　four…and…twenty　hours　before　you　went
to　church　with　Downe。　　The　fixing　of　my　journey　at　that　particular
moment　was　because　of　her　funeral；　but　once　away　I　knew　I　should
have　no　inducement　to　come　back；　and　took　my　steps　accordingly。'

Her　face　assumed　an　aspect　of　gentle　reflection；　and　she　looked　up
and　down　his　form　with　great　interest　in　her　eyes。　　'I　never　thought
of　it！'　she　said。　　'I　knew；　of　course；　that　you　had　once　implied
some　warmth　of　feeling　towards　me；　but　I　concluded　that　it　passed
off。　　And　I　have　always　been　under　the　impression　that　your　wife　was
alive　at　the　time　of　my　marriage。　　Was　it　not　stupid　of　me！But　you
will　have　some　tea　or　something？　　I　have　never　dined　late；　you　know；
since　my　husband's　death。　　I　have　got　into　the　way　of　making　a
regular　meal　of　tea。　　You　will　have　some　tea　with　me；　will　you　not？'

The　travelled　man　assented　quite　readily；　and　tea　was　brought　in。
They　sat　and　chatted　over　the　meal；　regardless　of　the　flying　hour。
'Well；　well！'　said　Barnet　presently；　as　for　the　first　time　he
leisurely　surveyed　the　room；　'how　like　it　all　is；　and　yet　how
different！　　Just　where　your　piano　stands　was　a　board　on　a　couple　of
trestles；　bearing　the　patterns　of　wall…papers；　when　I　was　last　here。
I　was　choosing　themstanding　in　this　way；　as　it　might　be。　　Then　my
servant　came　in　at　the　door；　and　handed　me　a　note；　so。　　It　was　from
Downe；　and　announced　that　you　were　just　going　to　be　married　to　him。
I　chose　no　more　wall…paperstore　up　all　those　I　had　selected；　and
left　the　house。　　I　never　entered　it　again　till　now。'

'Ah；　at　last　I　understand　it　all；'　she　murmured。

They　had　both　risen　and　gone　to　the　fireplace。　　The　mantel　came
almost　on　a　level　with　her　shoulder；　which　gently　rested　against　it；
and　Barnet　laid　his　hand　upon　the　shelf　close　beside　her　shoulder。
'Lucy；'　he　said；　'better　late　than　never。　　Will　you　marry　me　now？'

She　started　back；　and　the　surprise　which　was　so　obvious　in　her
wrought　even　greater　surprise　in　him　that　it　should　be　so。　　It　was
difficult　to　believe　that　she　had　been　quite　blind　to　the　situation；
and　yet　all　reason　and　common　sense　went　to　prove　that　she　was　not
acting。

'You　take　me　quite　unawares　by　such　a　question！'　she　said；　with　a
forced　laugh　of　uneasiness。　　It　was　the　first　time　she　had　shown　any
embarrassment　at　all。　　'Why；'　she　added；　'I　couldn't　marry　you　for
the　world。'

'Not　after　all　this！　　Why　not？'

'It　isI　wouldI　really　think　I　may　say　itI　would　upon　the　whole
rather　marry　you；　Mr。　Barnet；　than　any　other　man　I　have　ever　met；　if
I　ever　dreamed　of　marriage　again。　　But　I　don't　dream　of　itit　is
quite　out　of　my　thoughts；　I　have　not　the　least　intention　of　marrying
again。'

'Buton　my　accountcouldn't　you　alter　your　plans　a　little？　　Come！'

'Dear　Mr。　Barnet；'　she　said　with　a　little　flutter；　'I　would　on　your
account　if　on　anybody's　in　existence。　　But　you　don't　know　in　the
least　what　it　is　you　are　askingsuch　an　impracticable　thingI
won't　say　ridicul