the patrician-第30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！



And　she　suddenly　looked　up；　in　Courtier's　face。　　She　seemed　to　him
very　young；　and　touching；　at　that　moment。　　Her　eyes　had　a　gleam　of
faith　in　them；　like　a　child's　eyes；　as　if　she　relied　on　him　to
straighten　out　this　tangle；　to　tell　her　not　only　about　Miltoun's
trouble；　but　about　all　life；　its　meaning；　and　the　secret　of　its
happiness：　And　he　said　gently：

〃What　can　I　do？　　Mrs。　Noel　is　in　Town。　　But　that's　no　good；　unless〃
Not　knowing　how　to　finish　this　sentence；　he　was　silent。

〃I　wish　I　were　Miltoun；〃　she　muttered。

At　that　quaint　saying；　Courtier　was　hard　put　to　it　not　to　take　hold
of　the　hands　so　close　to　him。　　This　flash　of　rebellion　in　her　had
quickened　all　his　blood。　　But　she　seemed　to　have　seen　what　had　passed
in　him；　for　her　next　speech　was　chilly。

〃It's　no　good；　stupid　of　me　to　be　worrying　you。〃

〃It　is　quite　impossible　for　you　to　worry　me。〃

Her　eyes　lifted　suddenly　from　her　glove；　and　looked　straight　into
his。

〃Are　you　really　going　to　Persia？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃But　I　don't　want　you　to；　not　yet！〃　and　turning　suddenly；　she　left
him。

Strangely　disturbed；　Courtier　remained　motionless；　consulting　the
grave　stare　of　the　group　of　Georgian　Caradocs。

A　voice　said：

〃Good　painting；　isn't　it？〃

Behind　him　was　Lord　Harbinger。　　And　once　more　the　memory　of　Lady
Casterley's　words；　the　memory　of　the　two　figures　with　joined　hands　on
the　balcony　above　the　election　crowd；　all　his　latent　jealousy　of　this
handsome　young　Colossus；　his　animus　against　one　whom　he　could；　as　it
were；　smell　out　to　be　always　fighting　on　the　winning　side；　all　his
consciousness　too　of　what　a　lost　cause　his　own　was；　his　doubt　whether
he　were　honourable　to　look　on　it　as　a　cause　at　all；　flared　up　in
Courtier；　so　that　his　answer　was　a　stare。　　On　Harbinger's　face；　too；
there　had　come　a　look　of　stubborn　violence　slowly　working　up　towards
the　surface。

〃I　said：　'Good；　isn't　it？'　Mr。　Courtier。〃

〃I　heard　you。〃

〃And　you　were　pleased　to　answer？〃

〃Nothing。〃

〃With　the　civility　which　might　be　expected　of　your　habits。〃

Coldly　disdainful；　Courtier　answered：

〃If　you　want　to　say　that　sort　of　thing；　please　choose　a　place　where　I
can　reply　to　you；〃　and　turned　abruptly　on　his　heel。

But　he　ground　his　teeth　as　he　made　his　way　out　into　the　street。

In　Hyde　Park　the　grass　was　parched　and　dewless　under　a　sky　whose
stars　were　veiled　by　the　heat　and　dust　haze。　　Never　had　Courtier　so
bitterly　wanted　the　sky's　consolationthe　blessed　sense　of
insignificance　in　the　face　of　the　night's　dark　beauty；　which；
dwarfing　all　petty　rage　and　hunger；　made　men　part　of　its　majesty；
exalted　them　to　a　sense　of　greatness。




CHAPTER　VII

It　was　past　four　o'clock　the　following　day　when　Barbara　issued　from
Valleys　House　on　foot；　clad　in　a　pale　buff　frock；　chosen　for
quietness；　she　attracted　every　eye。　　Very　soon　entering　a　taxi…cab；
she　drove　to　the　Temple；　stopped　at　the　Strand　entrance；　and　walked
down　the　little　narrow　lane　into　the　heart　of　the　Law。　　Its　votaries
were　hurrying　back　from　the　Courts；　streaming　up　from　their　Chambers
for　tea；　or　escaping　desperately　to　Lord's　or　the　Parkyoung
votaries；　unbound　as　yet　by　the　fascination　of　fame　or　fees。　　And
each；　as　he　passed；　looked　at　Barbara；　with　his　fingers　itching　to
remove　his　hat；　and　a　feeling　that　this　was　She。　　After　a　day　spent
amongst　precedents　and　practice；　after　six　hours　at　least　of　trying
to　discover　what　chance　A　had　of　standing　on　his　rights；　or　B　had　of
preventing　him；　it　was　difficult　to　feel　otherwise　about　that　calm
apparitionlike　a　golden　slim　tree　walking。　　One　of　them；　asked　by
her　the　way　to　Miltoun's　staircase；　preceded　her　with　shy　ceremony；
and　when　she　had　vanished　up　those　dusty　stairs；　lingered　on；　hoping
that　she　might　find　her　visitee　out；　and　be　obliged　to　return　and　ask
him　the　way　back。　　But　she　did　not　come；　and　he　went　sadly　away；
disturbed　to　the　very　bottom　of　all　that　he　owned　in　fee　simple。

In　fact；　no　one　answered　Barbara's　knock；　and　discovering　that　the
door　yielded；　she　walked　through　the　lobby　past　the　clerk's　den；
converted　to　a　kitchen；　into　the　sitting…room。　　It　was　empty。　　She
had　never　been　to　Miltoun's　rooms　before；　and　she　stared　about　her
curiously。　　Since　he　did　not　practise；　much　of　the　proper　gear　was
absent。　　The　room　indeed　had　a　worn　carpet；　a　few　old　chairs；　and　was
lined　from　floor　to　ceiling　with　books。　　But　the　wall　space　between
the　windows　was　occupied　by　an　enormous　map　of　England；　scored　all
over　with　figures　and　crosses；　and　before　this　map　stood　an　immense
desk；　on　which　were　piles　of　double　foolscap　covered　with　Miltoun's
neat　and　rather　pointed　writing。　　Barbara　examined　them；　puckering　up
her　forehead；　she　knew　that　he　was　working　at　a　book　on　the　land
question；　but　she　had　never　realized　that　the　making　of　a　book
requited　so　much　writing。　　Papers；　too；　and　Blue　Books　littered　a
large　bureau　on　which　stood　bronze　busts　of　AEschylus　and　Dante。

〃What　an　uncomfortable　place！〃　she　thought。　　The　room；　indeed；　had　an
atmosphere；　a　spirit；　which　depressed　her　horribly。　　Seeing　a　few
flowers　down　in　the　court　below；　she　had　a　longing　to　get　out　to
them。　　Then　behind　her　she　heard　the　sound　of　someone　talking。　　But
there　was　no　one　in　the　room；　and　the　effect　of　this　disrupted
soliloquy；　which　came　from　nowhere；　was　so　uncanny；　that　she
retreated　to　the　door。　　The　sound；　as　of　two　spirits　speaking　in　one
voice；　grew　louder；　and　involuntarily　she　glanced　at　the　busts。　　They
seemed　quite　blameless。　　Though　the　sound　had　been　behind　her　when
she　was　at　the　window；　it　was　again　behind　her　now　that　she　was　at
the　door；　and　she　suddenly　realized　that　it　was　issuing　from　a
bookcase　in　the　centre　of　the　wall。　　Barbara　had　her　father's　nerve；
and　walking　up　to　the　bookcase　she　perceived　that　it　had　been　affixed
to；　and　covered；　a　door　that　was　not　quite　closed。　　She　pulled　it
towards　her；　and　passed　through。　　Across　the　centre　of　an　unkempt
bedroom　Miltoun　was　striding；　dressed　only　in　his　shirt　and　trousers。
His　feet　were　bare；　and　his　head　and　hair　dripping　wet；　the　look　on
his　thin　dark　face　went　to　Barbara's　heart。　　She　ran　forward；　and
took　his　hand。　　This　was　burning　hot；　but　the　sight　of　her　seemed　to
have　frozen　his　tongue　and　eyes。　　And　the　contrast　of　his　burning
hand　with　this　frozen　silence；　frightened　Barbara　horribly。　　She
could　think　of　nothing　but　to　put　her　other　hand　to　his　forehead。
That　too　was　burning　hot！

〃What　brought　you　here？〃　he　said。

She　could　only　murmur：

〃Oh！　Eusty！　　Are　you　ill？〃

Miltoun　took　hold　of　her　wrists。

〃It's　all　right；　I've　been　working　too　hard；　got　a　touch　of　fever。〃

〃So　I　can　feel；〃　murmured　Barbara。　　〃You　ought　to　be　in　bed。　　Come
home　with　me。〃

Miltoun　smiled。　　〃It's　not　a　case　for　leeches。〃

The　look　of　his　smile；　the　sound　of　his　voice；　sent　a　shudder　through
her。

〃I'm　not　going　to　leave　you　here　alone。

But　Miltoun's　grasp　tightened　on　her　wrists。

〃My　dear　Babs；　you　will　do　what　I　tell　you。　　Go　home；　hold　your
tongue；　and　leave　me　to　burn　out　in　peace。〃

Barbara　sustained　that　painful　grip　without　wincing；　she　had　regained
her　calmness。

〃You　must　come！　　You　haven't　anything　here；　not　even　a　cool　drink。〃

〃My　God！　　Barley　water！〃

The　scorn　he　put　into　those　two　words　was　more　withering　than　a　whole
philippic　against　redemption　by　creature　comforts。　　And　feeling　it
dart　into　her；　Barbara　closed　her　lips　tight。　　He　had　dropped　her
wrists；　and　again；　begun　pacing　up　and　down；　suddenly　he　stopped：

　　　　　　　　〃'The　stars；　sun；　moon　all　shrink　away；
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　A　desert　vast；　without　a　bound；
　　　　　　　　　　And　nothing　left　to　eat　or　drink；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　And　a　dark　desert　all　around。'

You　should　read　your　Blake；　Audrey。〃

Barbara　turned　quickly；　and　went　out　frightened。　　She　passed　through
the　sitting…room　and　corridor　on　to　the　staircase。　　He　was　ill…
raving！　　The　fever　in　Miltoun's　veins　seemed　to　have　stolen　through
the　clutch　of　his　hands　into　her　own　veins。　　Her　face　was　burning；
she　thought　confusedly；　breathed　unevenly。　　She　felt　sore；　and　at　the
same　time　terribly　sorry；　and　withal　there　kept　rising　in　her　the
gusty　memory　of　Harbingers　kiss。

She　hurried　down　the　stairs；　turned　by　instinct　down…hill　and　found
herself　on　the　Embankment。　　And　suddenly；　with　her　inherent　power　of
swift　decision；　she　hailed　a　cab；　and　drove　to　the　nearest　telephone
office。




CHAPTER　VIII

To　a　woman　like　Audrey　Noel；　born　to　be　the　counterpart　and
complement　of　another；whose　occupations　and　effort　were　inherently
divorced　from　the　continuity　of　any　stiff　and　strenuous　purpose　of
her　own；　the　uprooting　she　had　voluntarily　undergone　was　a　serious
matter。

Bereaved　of　the　faces　of　her　flowers；　the　friendly　sighing　of　her
lime…tree；　the　wants　of　her　cottagers；　bereaved　of　that　busy　monotony
of　little　home　things　which　is　the　stay　and　solace　of　lonely　women；
she　was　extraordinarily　lost。　　Even　music　for　review　seemed　to　have
failed　her。　　She　had　never　lived　in　London；　so　that　she　had　not　the
refuge　of　old　haunts　and　habits；　but　had　to　make　her　ownand　to　make
habits　and　haunts　required　a　heart　that　could　at　least　stretch　out
feelers　and　lay　hold　of　things；　and　her　heart　was　not　now　able。　　When
she　had　struggled　with　her　Edwardian　flat；　and　laid　down　her　simple
routine　of　meals；　she　was　as　stranded　as　ever　was；　convict　let　out　of
prison。　　She　had　not　even　that　great　support；　the　necessity　of　hiding
her　feelings　for　fear　of　disturbing　others。　　She　was　planted　there；
with　her　longing　and　grief；　and　nothing；　nobody；　to　take　her　out　of
herself。　　Having　wilfully　embraced　this　position；　she　tried　to　make
the　best　of　it；　feeling　it　less　intolerable；　at　all　events；　than
staying　on　at　Monkland；　where　she　had　made　that　grievous；　and
unpardonable　errorfalling　in　love。

This　offence；　on　the　part　of　one　who　felt　within　herself　a　great
capacity　to　enjoy　and　to　confer　happiness；　had　arisenlike　the　other
grievous　and　unpardonable　offence；　her　marriagefrom　too　much
disposition　to　yield　herself　to　the　personality　of　another。　　But　it
was　cold　comfort　to　know　that　the　desire　to　give　and　to　receive　love
had　twice　over　left　hera　dead　woman。　　Whatever　the　nature　of　those
immature　sensations　with　which；　as　a　girl　of　twenty；　she　had　accepted
her　husband；　in　her　feeling　towards　Miltoun　there　was　not　only
abandonment；　but　the　higher　flame　of　self…renunciation。　　She　wanted
to　do　the　best　for　him；　and　had　not　even　the　consolation　of　the
knowledge　that　she　had　sacrificed　herself　for　his　advantage。　　All　had
been　taken　out　of　her　hands！　　Yet　with　characteristic　fatalism　she
did　not　feel　rebellious。　　If　it　were　ordained　that　she　should；　for
fifty；　perhaps　sixty　years；　repent　in　sterility　and　ashes　that　first
error　of　her　girlhood；　rebellion　was；　none　the　less；　too　far…fetched。
If　she　rebelled；　it　would　not　be　in　spirit；　but　in　action。　　General
principles　were　nothing　to　her；　she　lost　no　force　brooding　over　the
justice　or　injustice　of　her　situation；　but　merely　tried　to　digest　its
facts。

The　whole　day；　succeeding　Courtier's　visit；　was　spent　by　her　in　the
National　Gallery；　whose　roof；　alone　of　all　in　London；　seemed　to　offer
her　protection。　　She　had　found　one　painting；　by　a