the patrician-第26章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


evening。　　We　dine　at　Plassey　House。〃

The　Duchess　of　Gloucester's　Ball；　a　function　which　no　one　could　very
well　miss；　had　been　fixed　for　this　late　date　owing　to　the　Duchess's
announced　desire　to　prolong　the　season　and　so　help　the　hackney
cabmen；　and　though　everybody　sympathized；　it　had　been　felt　by　most
that　it　would　be　simpler　to　go　away；　motor　up　on　the　day　of　the　Ball；
and　motor　down　again　on　the　following　morning。　　And　throughout　the
week　by　which　the　season　was　thus　prolonged；　in　long　rows　at　the
railway　stations；　and　on　their　stands；　the　hackney　cabmen；
unconscious　of　what　was　being　done　for　them；　waited；　patient　as　their
horses。　　But　since　everybody　was　making　this　special　effort；　an
exceptionally　large；　exclusive；　and　brilliant　company　reassembled　at
Gloucester　House。

In　the　vast　ballroom　over　the　medley　of　entwined　revolving　couples；
punkahs　had　been　fixed；　to　clear　and　freshen　the　languid　air；　and
these　huge　fans；　moving　with　incredible　slowness；　drove　a　faint
refreshing　draught　down　over　the　sea　of　white　shirt…fronts　and　bare
necks；　and　freed　the　scent　from　innumerable　flowers。

Late　in　the　evening；　close　by　one　of　the　great　clumps　of　bloom；　a
very　pretty　woman　stood　talking　to　Bertie　Caradoc。　　She　was　his
cousin；　Lily　Malvezin；　sister　of　Geoffrey　Winlow；　and　wife　of　a
Liberal　peer；　a　charming　creature；　whose　pink　cheeks；　bright　eyes；
quick　lips；　and　rounded　figure；　endowed　her　with　the　prettiest　air　of
animation。　　And　while　she　spoke　she　kept　stealing　sly　glances　at　her
partner；　trying　as　it　were　to　pierce　the　armour　of　that　self…
contained　young　man。

〃No；　my　dear；〃　she　said　in　her　mocking　voice；　〃you'll　never　persuade
me　that　Miltoun　is　going　to　catch　on。　　'Il　est　trop　intransigeant'。
Ah！　　there's　Babs！〃

For　the　girl　had　come　gliding　by；　her　eyes　wandering　lazily；　her　lips
just　parted；　her　neck；　hardly　less　pale　than　her　white　frock；　her
face　pale；　and　marked　with　languor；　under　the　heavy　coil　of　her　tawny
hair；　and　her　swaying　body　seeming　with　each　turn　of　the　waltz　to　be
caught　by　the　arms　of　her　partner　from　out　of　a　swoon。

With　that　immobility　of　lips；　learned　by　all　imprisoned　in　Society；
Lily　Malvezin　murmured：

〃Who's　that　she's　dancing　with？　　Is　it　the　dark　horse；　Bertie？〃

Through　lips　no　less　immobile　Bertie　answered：

〃Forty　to　one；　no　takers。〃

But　those　inquisitive　bright　eyes　still　followed　Barbara；　drifting　in
the　dance；　like　a　great　waterlily　caught　in　the　swirl　of　a　mill　pool；
and　the　thought　passed　through　that　pretty　head：

〃She's　hooked　him。　　It's　naughty　of　Babs；　really！〃　And　then　she　saw
leaning　against　a　pillar　another　whose　eyes　also　were　following　those
two；　and　she　thought：　〃H'm！　　Poor　Claudno　wonder　he's　looking　like
that。　　Oh！　　Babs！〃

By　one　of　the　statues　on　the　terrace　Barbara　and　her　partner　stood；
where　trees；　disfigured　by　no　gaudy　lanterns；　offered　the　refreshment
of　their　darkness　and　serenity。

Wrapped　in　her　new　pale　languor；　still　breathing　deeply　from　the
waltz；　she　seemed　to　Courtier　too　utterly　moulded　out　of　loveliness。
To　what　end　should　a　man　frame　speeches　to　a　vision！　　She　was　but　an
incarnation　of　beauty　imprinted　on　the　air；　and　would　fade　out　at　a
touch…like　the　sudden　ghosts　of　enchantment　that　came　to　one　under
the　blue；　and　the　starlit　snow　of　a　mountain　night；　or　in　a　birch
wood　all　wistful　golden！　　Speech　seemed　but　desecration！　　Besides；
what　of　interest　was　there　for　him　to　say　in　this　world　of　hers；　so
bewildering　and　of　such　glib　assurancethis　world　that　was　like　a
building；　whose　every　window　was　shut　and　had　a　blind　drawn　down。　　A
building　that　admitted　none　who　had　not　sworn；　as　it　were；　to　believe
it　the　world；　the　whole　world；　and　nothing　but　the　world；　outside
which　were　only　the　nibbled　remains　of　what　had　built　it。　　This；
world　of　Society；　in　which　he　felt　like　one　travelling　through　a
desert；　longing　to　meet　a　fellow…creature。

The　voice　of　Harbinger　behind　them　said：

〃Lady…Babs！〃

Long　did　the　punkahs　waft　their　breeze　over　that　brave…hued　wheel　of
pleasure；　and　the　sound　of　the　violins　quaver　and　wail　out　into　the
morning。　　Then　quickly；　as　the　spangles　of　dew　vanish　off　grass　when
the　sun　rises；　all　melted　away；　and　in　the　great　rooms　were　none　but
flunkeys　presiding　over　the　polished　surfaces　like　flamingoes　by　some
lakeside　at　dawn。




CHAPTER　III

A　brick　dower…house　of　the　Fitz…Harolds；　just　outside　the　little
seaside　town　of　Nettlefold；　sheltered　the　tranquil　days　of　Lord
Dennis。　　In　that　south…coast　air；　sanest　and　most　healing　in　all
England；　he　raged　very　slowly；　taking　little　thought　of　death；　and
much　quiet　pleasure　in　his　life。　　Like　the　tall　old　house　with　its
high　windows　and　squat　chimneys；　he　was　marvellously　self…contained。
His　books；　for　he　somewhat　passionately　examined　old　civilizations；
and　described　their　habits　from　time　to　time　with　a　dry　and　not　too
poignant　pen　in　a　certain　old…fashioned　magazine；　his　microscope；　for
he　studied　infusoria；　and　the　fishing　boat　of　his　friend　John　Bogle；
　who　had　long　perceived　that　Lord　Dennis　was　the　biggest　fish　he　ever
caught；　all　these；　with　occasional　visitors；　and　little　runs　to
London；　to　Monkland；　and　other　country　houses；　made　up　the　sum　of　a
life　which；　if　not　desperately　beneficial；　was　uniformly　kind　and
harmless；　and；　by　its　notorious　simplicity；　had　a　certain　negative
influence　not　only　on　his　own　class　but　on　the　relations　of　that
class　with　the　country　at　large。　　It　was　commonly　said　in　Nettlefold；
that　he　was　a　gentleman；　if　they　were　all　like　him　there　wasn't　much
in　all　this　talk　against　the　Lords。　　The　shop　people　and　lodging…
house　keepers　felt　that　the　interests　of　the　country　were　safer　in
his　hands：　than　in　the　hands　of　people　who　wanted　to　meddle　with
everything　for　the　good　of　those　who　were　only　anxious　to　be　let
alone。　　A　man　too　who　could　so　completely　forget　he　was　the　son　of　a
Duke；　that　other　people　never　forgot　it；　was　the　man　for　their　money。
It　was　true　that　he　had　never　had　a　say　in　public　affairs；　but　this
was　overlooked；　because　he　could　have　had　it　if　he　liked；　and　the
fact　that　he　did　not　like；　only　showed　once　more　that　he　was　a
gentleman。

Just　as　he　was　the　one　personality　of　the　little　town　against　whom
practically　nothing　was　ever；　said；　so　was　his　house　the　one　house
which　defied　criticism。　　Time　had　made　it　utterly　suitable。　　The
ivied　walls；　and　purplish　roof　lichened　yellow　in　places；　the　quiet
meadows　harbouring　ponies　and　kine；　reaching　from　it　to　the　seaall
was　mellow。　　In　truth　it　made　all　the　other　houses　of　the　town　seem
shoddystanding　alone　beyond　them；　like　its；　master；　if　anything　a
little　too　esthetically　remote　from　common　wants。

He　had　practically　no　near　neighbours　of　whom　he　saw　anything；　except
once　in　a　way　young　Harbinger　three　miles　distant　at　Whitewater。　　But
since　he　had　the　faculty　of　not　being　bored　with　his　own　society；
this　did　not　worry　him。　　Of　local　charity；　especially　to　the　fishers
of　the　town；　whose　winter　months　were　nowadays　very　bare　of　profit；
he　was　prodigal　to　the　verge　of　extravagance；　for　his　income　was　not
great。　　But　in　politics；　beyond　acting　as　the　figure…head　of　certain
municipal　efforts；　he　took　little　or　no　part。　　His　Toryism　indeed　was
of　the　mild　order；　that　had　little　belief　in　the　regeneration　of　the
country　by　any　means　but　those　of　kindly　feeling　between　the　classes。
When　asked　how　that　was　to　be　brought　about；　he　would　answer　with　his
dry；　slightly　malicious；　suavity；　that　if　you　stirred　hornets'　nests
with　sticks　the　hornets　would　come　forth。　　Having　no　land；　he　was　shy
of　expressing　himself　on　that　vexed　question；　but　if　resolutely
attacked　would　give　utterance　to　some　such　sentiment　as　this：　〃The
land's　best　in　our　hands　on　the　whole；　but　we　want　fewer　dogs…in…the…
manger　among　us。〃

He　had；　as　became　one　of　his　race；　a　feeling　for　land；　tender　and
protective；　and　could　not　bear　to　think　of　its　being　put　out　to　farm
with　that　cold　Mother；　the　State。　　He　was　ironical　over　the　views　of
Radicals　or　Socialists；　but　disliked　to　hear　such　people　personally
abused　behind　their　backs。　　It　must　be　confessed；　however；　that　if
contradicted　he　increased　considerably　the　ironical　decision　of　his
sentiments。　　Withdrawn　from　all　chance　in　public　life　of　enforcing
his　views　on　others；　the　natural　aristocrat　within　him　was　forced　to
find　some　expression。

Each　year；　towards　the　end　of　July；　he　placed　his　house　at　the
service　of　Lord　Valleys；　who　found　it　a　convenient　centre　for
attending　Goodwood。

It　was　on　the　morning　after　the　Duchess　of　Gloucester's　Ball；　that　he
received　this　note：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃VALLEYS　HOUSE。
〃DEAREST　UNCLE　DENNIS；

〃May　I　come　down　to　you　a　little　before　time　and　rest？　　London　is　so
terribly　hot。　　Mother　has　three　functions　still　to　stay　for；　and　I
shall　have　to　come　back　again　for　our　last　evening；　the　political
oneso　I　don't　want　to　go　all　the　way　to　Monkland；　and　anywhere
else；　except　with　you；　would　be　rackety。　　Eustace　looks　so　seedy。
I'll　try　and　bring　him；　if　I　may。　　Granny　is　terribly　well。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃Best　love；　dear；　from　your。
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃BABS。〃

The　same　afternoon　she　came；　but　without　Miltoun；　driving　up　from　the
station　in　a　fly。　　Lord　Dennis　met　her　at　the　gate；　and；　having
kissed　her；　looked　at　her　somewhat　anxiously；　caressing　his　white
peaked　beard。　　He　had　never　yet　known　Babs　sick　of　anything；　except
when　he　took　her　out　in　John　Bogle's　boat。　　She　was　certainly　looking
pale；　and　her　hair　was　done　differentlya　fact　disturbing　to　one　who
did　not　discover　it。　　Slipping　his　arm　through　hers　he　led　her　out
into　a　meadow　still　full　of　buttercups；　where　an　old　white　pony；　who
had　carried　her　in　the　Row　twelve　years　ago；　came　up　to　them　and
rubbed　his　muzzle　against　her　waist。　　And　suddenly　there　rose　in　Lord
Dennis　the　thoroughly　discomforting　and　strange　suspicion　that；
though　the　child　was　not　going　to　cry；　she　wanted　time　to　get　over
the　feeling　that　she　was。　　Without　appearing　to　separate　himself　from
her；　he　walked　to　the　wall　at　the　end　of　the　field；　and　stood　looking
at　the　sea。

The　tide　was　nearly　up；　the　South　wind　driving　over　it　brought　him
the　scent　of　the　sea…flowers；　and　the　crisp　rustle　of　little　waves
swimming　almost　to　his　feet。　　Far　out；　where　the　sunlight　fell；　the
smiling　waters　lay　white　and　mysterious　in　July　haze；　giving　him　a
queer　feeling。　　But　Lord　Dennis；　though　he　had　his　moments　of　poetic
sentiment；　was　on　the　whole　quite　able　to　keep　the　sea　in　its　proper
placefor　after　all　it　was　the　English　Channel；　and　like　a　good
Englishman　he　recognized　that　if　you　once　let　things　get　away　from
their　names；　they　ceased　to　be　facts；　and　if　they　ceased　to　be　facts；
they　becamethe　devil！　　In　truth　he　was　not　thinking　much　of　the
sea；　but　of　Barbara。　　It　was　plain　that　she　was　in　trouble　of　some
kind。　　And　the　notion　that　Babs　could　find　trouble　in　life　was
extraordinarily　queer；　for　he　felt；　subconsciously；　what　a　great
driving　force　of　disturbance　was　necessary　to　penetrate　the　hundred
folds　of　the　luxurious　cloak　enwrapping　one　so　young　and　fortunate。
It　was　not　Death；　ther