the law and the lady-第1章

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The　Law　and　the　Lady

by　Wilkie　Collins





NOTE：

ADDRESSED　TO　THE　READER。

IN　offering　this　book　to　you；　I　have　no　Preface　to　write。　I　have
only　to　request　that　you　will　bear　in　mind　certain　established
truths；　which　occasionally　escape　your　memory　when　you　are
reading　a　work　of　fiction。　Be　pleased；　then；　to　remember　（First）：
That　the　actions　of　human　beings　are　not　invariably　governed　by
the　laws　of　pure　reason。　（Secondly）：　That　we　are　by　no　means
always　in　the　habit　of　bestowing　our　love　on　the　objects　which
are　the　most　deserving　of　it；　in　the　opinions　of　our　friends。
（Thirdly　and　Lastly）：　That　Characters　which　may　not　have
appeared；　and　Events　which　may　not　have　taken　place；　within　the
limits　of　our　own　individual　experience；　may　nevertheless　be
perfectly　natural　Characters　and　perfectly　probable　Events；　for
all　that。　Having　said　these　few　words；　I　have　said　all　that　seems
to　be　necessary　at　the　present　time；　in　presenting　my　new　Story
to　your　notice。

W。　C。

LONDON；　February　1；　1875。




THE　LAW　AND　THE　LADY。

PART　I。

PARADISE　LOST。

　CHAPTER　I。

THE　BRIDE'S　MISTAKE。

〃FOR　after　this　manner　in　the　old　time　the　holy　women　also　who
trusted　in　God　adorned　themselves；　being　in　subjection　unto　their
own　husbands；　even　as　Sarah　obeyed　Abraham；　calling　him　lord；
whose　daughters　ye　are　as　long　as　ye　do　well；　and　are　not　afraid
with　any　amazement。〃

Concluding　the　Marriage　Service　of　the　Church　of　England　in　those
well…known　words；　my　uncle　Starkweather　shut　up　his　book；　and
looked　at　me　across　the　altar　rails　with　a　hearty　expression　of
interest　on　his　broad；　red　face。　At　the　same　time　my　aunt；　Mrs。
Starkweather；　standing　by　my　side；　tapped　me　smartly　on　the
shoulder；　and　said；

〃Valeria；　you　are　married！〃

Where　were　my　thoughts？　What　had　become　of　my　attention？　I　was
too　bewildered　to　know。　I　started　and　looked　at　my　new　husband。
He　seemed　to　be　almost　as　much　bewildered　as　I　was。　The　same
thought　had；　as　I　believe；　occurred　to　us　both　at　the　same
moment。　Was　it　really　possiblein　spite　of　his　mother's
opposition　to　our　marriagethat　we　were　Man　and　Wife？　My　aunt
Starkweather　settled　the　question　by　a　second　tap　on　my　shoulder。

〃Take　his　arm！〃　she　whispered；　in　the　tone　of　a　woman　who　had
lost　all　patience　with　me。

I　took　his　arm。

〃Follow　your　uncle。〃

Holding　fast　by　my　husband's　arm；　I　followed　my　uncle　and　the
curate　who　had　assisted　him　at　the　marriage。

The　two　clergymen　led　us　into　the　vestry。　The　church　was　in　one
of　the　dreary　quarters　of　London；　situated　between　the　City　and
the　West　End；　the　day　was　dull；　the　atmosphere　was　heavy　and
damp。　We　were　a　melancholy　little　wedding　party；　worthy　of　the
dreary　neighborhood　and　the　dull　day。　No　relatives　or　friends　of
my　husband's　were　present；　his　family；　as　I　have　already　hinted；
disapproved　of　his　marriage。　Except　my　uncle　and　my　aunt；　no
other　relations　appeared　on　my　side。　I　had　lost　both　my　parents；
and　I　had　but　few　friends。　My　dear　father's　faithful　old　clerk；
Benjamin；　attended　the　wedding　to　〃give　me　away；〃　as　the　phrase
is。　He　had　known　me　from　a　child；　and；　in　my　forlorn　position；　he
was　as　good　as　a　father　to　me。

The　last　ceremony　left　to　be　performed　was；　as　usual；　the　signing
of　the　marriage　register。　In　the　confusion　of　the　moment　（and　in
the　absence　of　any　information　to　guide　me）　I　committed　a
mistakeominous；　in　my　aunt　Starkweather's　opinion；　of　evil　to
come。　I　signed　my　married　instead　of　my　maiden　name。

〃What！〃　cried　my　uncle；　in　his　loudest　and　cheeriest　tones；　〃you
have　forgotten　your　own　name　already？　Well；　well！　let　us　hope　you
will　never　repent　parting　with　it　so　readily。　Try　again；
Valeriatry　again。〃

With　trembling　fingers　I　struck　the　pen　through　my　first　effort；
and　wrote　my　maiden　name；　very　badly　indeed；　as　follows：

Valeria　Brinton

　When　it　came　to　my　husband's　turn　I　noticed；　with　surprise；　that
his　hand　trembled　too；　and　that　he　produced　a　very　poor　specimen
of　his　customary　signature：

Eustace　Woodville

　My　aunt；　on　being　requested　to　sign；　complied　under　protest。　〃A
bad　beginning！〃　she　said；　pointing　to　my　first　unfortunate
signature　with　the　feather　end　of　her　pen。　〃I　hope；　my　dear；　you
may　not　live　to　regret　it。〃

Even　then；　in　the　days　of　my　ignorance　and　my　innocence；　that
curious　outbreak　of　my　aunt's　superstition　produced　a　certain
uneasy　sensation　in　my　mind。　It　was　a　consolation　to　me　to　feel
the　reassuring　pressure　of　my　husband's　hand。　It　was　an
indescribable　relief　to　hear　my　uncle's　hearty　voice　wishing　me　a
happy　life　at　parting。　The　good　man　had　left　his　north…country
Vicarage　（my　home　since　the　death　of　my　parents）　expressly　to
read　the　service　at　my　marriage；　and　he　and　my　aunt　had　arranged
to　return　by　the　mid…day　train。　He　folded　me　in　his　great　strong
arms；　and　he　gave　me　a　kiss　which　must　certainly　have　been　heard
by　the　idlers　waiting　for　the　bride　and　bridegroom　outside　the
church　door。

〃I　wish　you　health　and　happiness；　my　love；　with　all　my　heart。　You
are　old　enough　to　choose　for　yourself；　andno　offense；　Mr。
Woodville；　you　and　I　are　new　friendsand　I　pray　God；　Valeria；　it
may　turn　out　that　you　have　chosen　well。　Our　house　will　be　dreary
enough　without　you；　but　I　don't　complain；　my　dear。　On　the
contrary；　if　this　change　in　your　life　makes　you　happier；　I
rejoice。　Come；　come！　don't　cry；　or　you　will　set　your　aunt
offand　it's　no　joke　at　her　time　of　life。　Besides；　crying　will
spoil　your　beauty。　Dry　your　eyes　and　look　in　the　glass　there；　and
you　will　see　that　I　am　right。　Good…by；　childand　God　bless　you！〃

He　tucked　my　aunt　under　his　arm；　and　hurried　out。　My　heart　sank　a
little；　dearly　as　I　loved　my　husband；　when　I　had　seen　the　last　of
the　true　friend　and　protector　of　my　maiden　days。

The　parting　with　old　Benjamin　came　next。　〃I　wish　you　well；　my
dear；　don't　forget　me；〃　was　all　he　said。　But　the　old　days　at　home
came　back　on　me　at　those　few　words。　Benjamin　always　dined　with　us
on　Sundays　in　my　father's　time；　and　always　brought　some　little
present　with　him　for　his　master's　child。　I　was　very　near　to
〃spoiling　my　beauty〃　（as　my　uncle　had　put　it）　when　I　offered　the
old　man　my　cheek　to　kiss；　and　heard　him　sigh　to　himself；　as　if　he
too　were　not　quite　hopeful　about　my　future　life。

My　husband's　voice　roused　me；　and　turned　my　mind　to　happier
thoughts。

〃Shall　we　go；　Valeria？〃　he　asked。

I　stopped　him　on　our　way　out　to　take　advantage　of　my　uncle's
advice；　in　other　words；　to　see　how　I　looked　in　the　glass　over　the
vestry　fireplace。

　What　does　the　glass　show　me？

The　glass　shows　a　tall　and　slender　young　woman　of
three…and…twenty　years　of　age。　She　is　not　at　all　the　sort　of
person　who　attracts　attention　in　the　street；　seeing　that　she
fails　to　exhibit　the　popular　yellow　hair　and　the　popular　painted
cheeks。　Her　hair　is　black；　dressed；　in　these　later　days　（as　it
was　dressed　years　since　to　please　her　father）；　in　broad　ripples
drawn　back　from　the　forehead；　and　gathered　into　a　simple　knot
behind　（like　the　hair　of　the　Venus　de　Medicis）；　so　as　to　show　the
neck　beneath。　Her　complexion　is　pale：　except　in　moments　of
violent　agitation　there　is　no　color　to　be　seen　in　her　face。　Her
eyes　are　of　so　dark　a　blue　that　they　are　generally　mistaken　for
black。　Her　eyebrows　are　well　enough　in　form；　but　they　are　too
dark　and　too　strongly　marked。　Her　nose　just　inclines　toward　the
aquiline　bend；　and　is　considered　a　little　too　large　by　persons
difficult　to　please　in　the　matter　of　noses。　The　mouth；　her　best
feature；　is　very　delicately　shaped；　and　is　capable　of　presenting
great　varieties　of　expression。　As　to　the　face　in　general；　it　is
too　narrow　and　too　long　at　the　lower　part；　too　broad　and　too　low
in　the　higher　regions　of　the　eyes　and　the　head。　The　whole
picture；　as　reflected　in　the　glass；　represents　a　woman　of　some
elegance；　rather　too　pale；　and　rather　too　sedate　and　serious　in
her　moments　of　silence　and　reposein　short；　a　person　who　fails
to　strike　the　ordinary　observer　at　first　sight；　but　who　gains　in
general　estimation　on　a　second；　and　sometimes　on　a　third　view。　As
for　her　dress；　it　studiously　conceals；　instead　of　proclaiming；
that　she　has　been　married　that　morning。　She　wears　a　gray　cashmere
tunic　trimmed　with　gray　silk；　and　having　a　skirt　of　the　same
material　and　color　beneath　it。　On　her　head　is　a　bonnet　to　match；
relieved　by　a　quilling　of　white　muslin　with　one　deep　red　rose；　as
a　morsel　of　positive　color；　to　complete　the　effect　of　the　whole
dress。

Have　I　succeeded　or　failed　in　describing　the　picture　of　myself
which　I　see　in　the　glass？　It　is　not　for　me　to　say。　I　have　done　my
best　to　keep　clear　of　the　two　vanitiesthe　vanity　of
depreciating　and　the　vanity　of　praising　my　own　personal
appearance。　For　the　rest；　well　written　or　badly　written；　thank
Heaven　it　is　done！

And　whom　do　I　see　in　the　glass　standing　by　my　side？

I　see　a　man　who　is　not　quite　so　tall　as　I　am；　and　who　has　the
misfortune　of　looking　older　than　his　years。　His　forehead　is
prematurely　bald。　His　big　chestnut…colored　beard　and　his　long
overhanging　mustache　are　prematurely　streaked　with　gray。　He　has
the　color　in　the　face　which　my　face　wants；　and　the　firmness　in
his　figure　which　my　figure　wants。　He　looks　at　me　with　the
tenderest　and　gentlest　eyes　（of　a　light　brown）　that　I　ever　saw　in
the　countenance　of　a　man。　His　smile　is　rare　and　sweet；　his
manner；　perfectly　quiet　and　retiring；　has　yet　a　latent
persuasiveness　in　it　which　is　（to　women）　irresistibly　winning。　He
just　halts　a　little　in　his　walk；　from　the　effect　of　an　injury
received　in　past　years；　when　he　was　a　soldier　serving　in　India；
and　he　carries　a　thick　bamboo　cane；　with　a　curious　crutch　handle
（an　old　favorite）；　to　help　himself　along　whenever　he　gets　on　his
feet；　in　doors　or　out。　With　this　one　little　drawback　（if　it　is　a
drawback）；　there　is　nothing　infirm　or　old　or　awkward　about　him；
his　slight　limp　when　he　walks　has　（perhaps　to　my　partial　eyes）　a
certain　quaint　grace　of　its　own；　which　is　pleasanter　to　see　than
the　unrestrained　activity　of　other　men。　And　last　and　best　of　all；
I　love　him！　I　love　him！　I　love　him！　And　there　is　an　end　of　my
portrait　of　my　husband　on　our　wedding…day。

The　glass　has　told　me　all　I　want　to　know。　We　leave　the　vestry　at
last。

The　sky；　cloudy　since　the　morning；　has　darkened　while　we　have
been　in　the　church；　and　the　rain　is　beginning　to　fall　heavily。
The　idlers　outside　stare　at　us　grimly　under　their　umbrellas　as　we
pass　through　their　ranks　and　hasten　into　our　carriage。　No
cheering；　no　sunshine；　no　flowers　strewn　in　our　path；　no　grand
breakfast；　no　genial　speeches；　no　bridesmaids；　no　fathers　or
mother's　blessing。　A　dreary　weddingthere　is　no　denying　itand
（if　Aunt　Starkweather　is　right）　a　bad　beginning　as　well！

A　_coup_　has　been　reserved　for　us　at　the　railway　station。　The
attentive　porter；　on　the　look…out　for　his　fee　pulls　down　the
blinds　over　the　side　windows　of　the　carriage；　and　shuts　out　all
prying　eyes　in　that　way。　After　what　seems　to　be　an　interminable
delay　the　train　starts。　My　husband　winds　his　arm　round　me。　〃At
last！〃　he　whispers；　with　love　in　his　eyes　that　no　words　can
utter；　and　presses　me　to　him　gently。　My　arm　steals　round　his
neck；　my　eyes　answer　his　eyes。　Our　lips　meet　in　the　first　l