the patrician-第16章

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asked　herself　a　thousand　times　if　she　had　been　to　blame。　　She　had　let
him　grow　fond　of　her；　a　woman　out　of　court；　a　dead　woman！　　An
unpardonable　sin！　　Yet　surely　that　depended　on　what　she　was　prepared
to　give！　　And　she　was　frankly　ready　to　give　everything；　and　ask　for
nothing。　　He　knew　her　position；　he　had　told　her　that　he　knew。　　In　her
love　for　him　she　gloried；　would　continue　to　glory；　would　suffer　for
it　without　regret。　　Miltoun　was　right　in　believing　that　newspaper
gossip　was　incapable　of　hurting　her；　though　her　reasons　for　being　so
impervious　were　not　what　he　supposed。　　She　was　not；　like　him；　secured
from　pain　because　such　insinuations　about　the　private　affairs　of
others　were　mean　and　vulgar　and　beneath　notice；　it　had　not　as　yet
occurred　to　her　to　look　at　the　matter　in　so　lofty　and　general　a
light；　she　simply　was　not　hurt；　because　she　was　already　so　deeply
Miltoun's　property　in　spirit；　that　she　was　almost　glad　that　they
should　assign　him　all　the　rest　of　her。　　But　for　Miltoun's　sake　she
was　disturbed　to　the　soul。　　She　had　tarnished　his　shield　in　the　eyes
of　men；　and　（for　she　was　oddly　practical；　and　saw　things　in　very
clear　proportion）　perhaps　put　back　his　career；　who　knew　how　many
years！

She　sat　down　to　drink　her　tea。　　Not　being　a　crying　woman；　she
suffered　quietly。　　She　felt　that　Miltoun　would　be　coming　to　her。　　She
did　not　know　at　all　what　she　should　say　when　he　did　come。　　He　could
not　care　for　her　so　much　as　she　cared　for　him！　　He　was　a　man；　men
soon　forget！　　Ah！　but　he　was　not　like　most　men。　　One　could　not　look
at　his　eyes　without　feeling　that　he　could　suffer　terribly！　　In　all
this　her　own　reputation　concerned　her　not　at　all。　　Life；　and　her
clear　way　of　looking　at　things；　had　rooted　in　her　the　conviction　that
to　a　woman　the　preciousness　of　her　reputation　was　a　fiction　invented
by　men　entirely　for　man's　benefit；　a　second…hand　fetish　insidiously；
inevitably　set…up　by　men　for　worship；　in　novels；　plays；　and　law…
courts。　　Her　instinct　told　her　that　men　could　not　feel　secure　in　the
possession　of　their　women　unless　they　could　believe　that　women　set
tremendous　store　by　sexual　reputation。　　What　they　wanted　to　believe；
that　they　did　believe！　　But　she　knew　otherwise。　　Such　great…minded
women　as　she　had　met　or　read　of　had　always　left　on　her　the　impression
that　reputation　for　them　was　a　matter　of　the　spirit；　having　little　to
do　with　sex。　　From　her　own　feelings　she　knew　that　reputation；　for　a
simple　woman；　meant　to　stand　well　in　the　eyes　of　him　or　her　whom　she
loved　best。　　For　worldly　womenand　there　were　so　many　kinds　of
those；　besides　the　merely　fashionableshe　had　always　noted　that　its
value　was　not　intrinsic；　but　commercial；　not　a　crown　of　dignity；　but
just　a　marketable　asset。　　She　did　not　dread　in　the　least　what　people
might　say　of　her　friendship　with　Miltoun；　nor　did　she　feel　at　all
that　her　indissoluble　marriage　forbade　her　loving　him。　　She　had
secretly　felt　free　as　soon　as　she　had　discovered　that　she　had　never
really　loved　her　husband；　she　had　only　gone　on　dutifully　until　the
separation；　from　sheer　passivity；　and　because　it　was　against　her
nature　to　cause　pain　to　anyone。　　The　man　who　was　still　her　husband
was　now　as　dead　to　her　as　if　he　had　never　been　born。　　She　could　not
marry　again；　it　was　true；　but　she　could　and　did　love。　　If　that　love
was　to　be　starved　and　die　away；　it　would　not　be　because　of　any　moral
scruples。

She　opened　her　paper　languidly；　and　almost　the　first　words　she　read；
under　the　heading　of　Election　News；　were　these：

'Apropos　of　the　outrage　on　Mr。　Courtier；　we　are　requested　to　state
that　the　lady　who　accompanied　Lord　Miltoun　to　the　rescue　of　that
gentleman　was　Mrs。　Lees　Noel；　wife　of　the　Rev。　Stephen　Lees　Noel；
vicar　of　Clathampton；　Warwickshire。'

This　dubious　little　daub　of　whitewash　only　brought　a　rather　sad　smile
to　her　lips。　　She　left　her　tea；　and　went　out　into　the　air。　　There　at
the　gate　was　Miltoun　coming　in。　　Her　heart　leaped。　　But　she　went
forward　quietly；　and　greeted　him　with　cast…down　eyes；　as　if　nothing
were　out　of　the　ordinary。




CHAPTER　XV

Exaltation　had　not　left　Miltoun。　　His　sallow　face　was　flushed；　his
eyes　glowed　with　a　sort　of　beauty；　and　Audrey　Noel　who；　better　than
most　women；　could　read　what　was　passing　behind　a　face；　saw　those　eyes
with　the　delight　of　a　moth　fluttering　towards　a　lamp。　　But　in　a　very
unemotional　voice　she　said：

〃So　you　have　come　to　breakfast。　　How　nice　of　you！

It　was　not　in　Miltoun　to　observe　the　formalities　of　attack。　　Had　he
been　going　to　fight　a　duel　there　would　have　been　no　preliminary；　just
a　look；　a　bow；　and　the　swords　crossed。　　So　in　this　first　engagement
of　his　with　the　soul　of　a　woman！

He　neither　sat　down　nor　suffered　her　to　sit；　but　stood　looking
intently　into　her　face；　and　said：

〃I　love　you。〃

Now　that　it　had　come；　with　this　disconcerting　swiftness；　she　was
strangely　calm；　and　unashamed。　　The　elation　of　knowing　for　sure　that
she　was　loved　was　like　a　wand　waving　away　all　tremors；　stilling　them
to　sweetness。　　Since　nothing　could　take　away　that　knowledge；　it
seemed　that　she　could　never　again　be　utterly　unhappy。　　Then；　too；　in
her　nature；　so　deeply；　unreasoningly　incapable　of　perceiving　the
importance　of　any　principle　but　love；　there　was　a　secret　feeling　of
assurance；　of　triumph。　　He　did　love　her！　　And　she；　him！　　Well！　　And
suddenly　panic…stricken；　lest　he　should　take　back　those　words；　she
put　her　hand　up　to　his　breast；　and　said：

〃And　I　love　you。〃

The　feel　of　his　arms　round　her；　the　strength　and　passion　of　that
moment；　were　so　terribly　sweet；　that　she　died　to　thought；　just
looking　up　at　him；　with　lips　parted　and　eyes　darker　with　the　depth　of
her　love　than　he　had　ever　dreamed　that　eyes　could　be。　　The　madness　of
his　own　feeling　kept　him　silent。　　And　they　stood　there；　so　merged　in
one　another　that　they　knew　and　cared　nothing　for　any　other　mortal
thing。　　It　was　very　still　in　the　room；　the　roses　and　carnations　in
the　lustre　bowl；　seeming　to　know　that　their　mistress　was　caught　up
into　heaven；　had　let　their　perfume　steal　forth　and　occupy　every
cranny　of　the　abandoned　air；　a　hovering　bee；　too；　circled　round　the
lovers'　heads；　scenting；　it　seemed；　the　honey　in　their　hearts。

It　has　been　said　that　Miltoun's　face　was　not　unhandsome；　for　Audrey
Noel　at　this　moment　when　his　eyes　were　so　near　hers；　and　his　lips
touching　her；　he　was　transfigured；　and　had　become　the　spirit　of　all
beauty。　　And　she；　with　heart　beating　fast　against　him；　her　eyes；　half
closing　from　delight；　and　her　hair　asking　to　be　praised　with　its
fragrance；　her　cheeks　fainting　pale　with　emotion；　and　her　arms　too
languid　with　happiness　to　embrace　himshe；　to　him；　was　the
incarnation　of　the　woman　that　visits　dreams。

So　passed　that　moment。

The　bee　ended　it；　who；　impatient　with　flowers　that　hid　their　honey　so
deep；　had　entangled　himself　in　Audrey's　hair。　　And　then；　seeing　that
words；　those　dreaded　things；　were　on　his　lips；　she　tried　to　kiss　them
back。　　But　they　came：

〃When　will　you　marry　me？〃

It　all　swayed　a　little。　　And　with　marvellous　rapidity　the　whole
position　started　up　before　her。　　She　saw；　with　preternatural　insight；
into　its　nooks　and　corners。　　Something　he　had　said　one　day；　when　they
were　talking　of　the　Church　view　of　marriage　and　divorce；　lighted　all
up。　　So　he　had　really　never　known　about　her！　　At　this　moment　of　utter
sickness；　she　was　saved　from　fainting　by　her　sense　of　humourher
cynicism。　　Not　content　to　let　her　be；　people's　tongues　had　divorced
her；　he　had　believed　them！　　And　the　crown　of　irony　was　that　he　should
want　to　marry　her；　when　she　felt　so　utterly；　so　sacredly　his；　to　do
what　he　liked　with　sans　forms　or　ceremonies。　　A　surge　of　bitter
feeling　against　the　man　who　stood　between　her　and　Miltoun　almost　made
her　cry　out。　　That　man　had　captured　her　before　she　knew　the　world　or
her　own　soul；　and　she　was　tied　to　him；　till　by　some　beneficent　chance
he　drew　his　last　breath　when　her　hair　was　grey；　and　her　eyes　had　no
love　light；　and　her　cheeks　no　longer　grew　pale　when　they　were　kissed；
when　twilight　had　fallen；　and　the　flowers；　and　bees　no　longer　cared
for　her。

It　was　that　feeling；　the　sudden　revolt　of　the　desperate　prisoner；
which　steeled　her　to　put　out　her　hand；　take　up　the　paper；　and　give　it
to　Miltoun。

When　he　had　read　the　little　paragraph；　there　followed　one　of　those
eternities　which　last　perhaps　two　minutes。

He　said；　then：

〃It's　true；　I　suppose？〃　　And；　at　her　silence；　added：　〃I　am　sorry。〃

This　queer　dry　saying　was　so　much　more　terrible　than　any　outcry；　that
she　remained；　deprived　even　of　the　power　of　breathing；　with　her　eyes
still　fixed　on　Miltoun's　face。

The　smile　of　the　old　Cardinal　had　come　up　there；　and　was　to　her　like
a　living　accusation。　　It　seemed　strange　that　the　hum　of　the　bees　and
flies　and　the　gentle　swishing　of　the　limetree　should　still　go　on
outside；　insisting　that　there　was　a　world　moving　and　breathing　apart
from　her；　and　careless　of　her　misery。　　Then　some　of　her　courage　came
back；　and　with　it　her　woman's　mute　power。　　It　came　haunting　about　her
face；　perfectly　still；　about　her　lips；　sensitive　and　drawn；　about　her
eyes；　dark；　almost　mutinous　under　their　arched　brows。　　She　stood；
drawing　him　with　silence　and　beauty。

At　last　he　spoke：

〃I　have　made　a　foolish　mistake；　it　seems。　　I　believed　you　were　free。〃

Her　lips　just　moved　for　the　words　to　pass：　〃I　thought　you　knew。　　I
never；　dreamed　you　would　want　to　marry　me。〃

It　seemed　to　her　natural　that　he　should　be　thinking　only　of　himself；
but　with　the　subtlest　defensive　instinct；　she　put　forward　her　own
tragedy：

〃I　suppose　I　had　got　too　used　to　knowing　I　was　dead。〃

〃Is　there　no　release？〃

〃None。　　We　have　neither　of　us　done　wrong；　besides　with　him；　marriage
isfor　ever。〃

〃My　God！〃

She　had　broken　his　smile；　which　had　been　cruel　without　meaning　to　be
cruel；　and　with　a　smile　of　her　own　that　was　cruel　too；　she　said：

〃I　didn't　know　that　you　believed　in　release　either。〃

Then；　as　though　she　had　stabbed　herself　in　stabbing　him；　her　face
quivered。

He　looked　at　her　now；　conscious　at　last　that　she　was　suffering。　　And
she　felt　that　he　was　holding　himself　in　with　all　his　might　from
taking　her　again　into　his　arms。　　Seeing　this；　the　warmth　crept　back
to　her　lips；　and　a　little　light　into　her　eyes；　which　she　kept　hidden
from　him。　　Though　she　stood　so　proudly　still；　some　wistful　force　was
coming　from　her；　as　from　a　magnet；　and　Miltoun's　hands　and　arms　and
face　twitched　as　though　palsied。　　This　struggle；　dumb　and　pitiful；
seemed　never　to　be　coming　to　an　end　in　the　little　white　room；
darkened　by　the　thatch　of　the　verandah；　and　sweet　with　the　scent　of
pinks　and　of　a　wood　fire　just　lighted　somewhere　out　at　the　back。
Then；　without　a　word；　he　turned　and　went　out。　　She　heard　the　wicket
gate　swing　to。　　He　was　gone。




CHAPTER　XVI

Lord　Denis　was　fly…fishingthe　weather　just　too　bright　to　allow　the
little　trout　of　that　shallow；　never　silent　stream　to　embrace　with
avidity　the　small　enticements　which　he　threw　in　their　direction。
Nevertheless　he　continued　to　invite　them；　exploring　every　nook　of
their　watery　pathway　with　his　soft…swishing　line。　　In　a　rough　suit
and　battered　hat　adorned　with　those　artificial　and　other　flies；　which
infest　Harris　tweed