malbone- an oldport romance[1].(马尔布恩)-第7章
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boys and girls strolling by the window at evening； and strumming on the
banjo；the only vestige of tropical life that haunts our busy Northern zone。
But he liked just as well to note the ways of well…dressed girls and boys at
croquet parties； or to sit at the club window and hear the gossip。 He was
a jewel of a listener； and was not easily bored even when Philadelphians
talked about families； or New Yorkers about bargains； or Bostonians about
books。 A man who has not one absorbing aim can get a great many
miscellaneous things into each twenty…four hours； and there was not a day
in which Philip did not make himself agreeable and useful to many people；
receive many confidences； and give much good…humored advice about
matters of which he knew nothing。 His friends' children ran after him in
the street； and he knew the pet theories and wines of elderly gentlemen。
He said that he won their hearts by remembering every occurrence in their
lives except their birthdays。
It was； perhaps； no drawback on the popularity of Philip Malbone that
he had been for some ten years reproached as a systematic flirt by all
women with whom he did not happen at the moment to be flirting。 The
reproach was unjust； he had never done anything systematically in his life；
it was his temperament that flirted； not his will。 He simply had that most
perilous of all seductive natures； in which the seducer is himself seduced。
With a personal refinement that almost amounted to purity； he was
constantly drifting into loves more profoundly perilous than if they had
belonged to a grosser man。 Almost all women loved him； because he loved
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almost all； he never had to assume an ardor； for he always felt it。 His heart
was multivalve； he could love a dozen at once in various modes and
gradations； press a dozen hands in a day； gaze into a dozen pair of eyes
with unfeigned tenderness； while the last pair wept for him； he was
looking into the next。 In truth； he loved to explore those sweet depths；
humanity is the highest thing to investigate； he said； and the proper study
of mankind is woman。 Woman needs to be studied while under the
influence of emotion； let us therefore have the emotions。 This was the
reason he gave to himself； but this refined Mormonism of the heart was
not based on reason； but on temperament and habit。 In such matters logic
is only for the by…standers。
His very generosity harmed him； as all our good qualities may harm us
when linked with bad ones； he had so many excuses for doing kindnesses
to his friends； it was hard to quarrel with him if he did them too tenderly。
He was no more capable of unkindness than of constancy； and so strongly
did he fix the allegiance of those who loved him； that the women to whom
he had caused most anguish would still defend him when accused； would
have crossed the continent； if needed； to nurse him in illness； and would
have rained rivers of tears on his grave。 To do him justice； he would
have done almost as much for them；for any of them。 He could torture a
devoted heart； but only through a sort of half…wilful unconsciousness； he
could not bear to see tears shed in his presence； nor to let his imagination
dwell very much on those which flowed in his absence。 When he had once
loved a woman； or even fancied that he loved her； he built for her a shrine
that was never dismantled； and in which a very little faint incense would
sometimes be found burning for years after； he never quite ceased to feel a
languid thrill at the mention of her name； he would make even for a past
love the most generous sacrifices of time； convenience； truth perhaps；
everything； in short； but the present love。 To those who had given him all
that an undivided heart can give he would deny nothing but an undivided
heart in return。 The misfortune was that this was the only thing they
cared to possess。
This abundant and spontaneous feeling gave him an air of earnestness；
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without which he could not have charmed any woman； and； least of all；
one like Hope。 No woman really loves a trifler； she must at least
convince herself that he who trifles with others is serious with her。 Philip
was never quite serious and never quite otherwise； he never deliberately
got up a passion； for it was never needful； he simply found an object for
his emotions； opened their valves； and then watched their flow。 To love a
charming woman in her presence is no test of genuine passion； let us know
how much you long for her in absence。 This longing had never yet
seriously troubled Malbone； provided there was another charming person
within an easy walk。
If it was sometimes forced upon him that all this ended in anguish to
some of these various charmers； first or last； then there was always in
reserve the pleasure of repentance。 He was very winning and generous in
his repentances； and he enjoyed them so much they were often repeated。
He did not pass for a weak person； and he was not exactly weak； but he
spent his life in putting away temptations with one hand and pulling them
back with the other。 There was for him something piquant in being thus
neither innocent nor guilty； but always on some delicious middle ground。
He loved dearly to skate on thin ice；that was the trouble；especially
where he fancied the water to be just within his depth。 Unluckily the sea of
life deepens rather fast。
Malbone had known Hope from her childhood； as he had known her
cousins； but their love dated from their meetings beside the sickbed of his
mother； over whom he had watched with unstinted devotion for weary
months。 She had been very fond of the young girl； and her last earthly act
was to place Hope's hand in Philip's。 Long before this final consecration；
Hope had won his heart more thoroughly； he fancied； than any woman he
had ever seen。 The secret of this crowning charm was； perhaps； that she
was a new sensation。 He had prided himself on his knowledge of her sex；
and yet here was a wholly new species。 He was acquainted with the
women of society； and with the women who only wished to be in society。
But here was one who was in the chrysalis； and had never been a grub； and
had no wish to be a butterfly； and what should he make of her？ He was
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like a student of insects who had never seen a bee。 Never had he known
a young girl who cared for the things which this maiden sought； or who
was not dazzled by things to which Hope seemed perfectly indifferent。 She
was not a devotee； she was not a prude； people seemed to amuse and
interest her； she liked them； she declared； as much as she liked books。 But
this very way of putting the thing seemed like inverting the accustomed
order of affairs in the polite world； and was of itself a novelty。
Of course he had previously taken his turn for a while among Kate's
admirers； but it was when she was very young； and； moreover； it was hard
to get up anything like a tender and confidential relation with that frank
maiden； she never would have accepted Philip Malbone for herself； and
she was by no means satisfied with his betrothal to her best beloved。 But
that Hope loved him ardently there was no doubt； however it might be
explained。 Perhaps it was some law of opposites； and she needed some
one of lighter nature than her own。 As her resolute purpose charmed him；
so she may have found a certain fascination in the airy way in which he
took hold on life； he was so full of thought and intelligence； possessing
infinite leisure； and yet incapable of ennui； ready to oblige every one； and
doing so many kind acts at so little personal sacrifice； always easy；
graceful； lovable； and kind。 In her just indignation at those who called him
heartless； she forgot to notice that his heart was not deep。 He was
interested in all her pursuits； could aid her in all her studies； suggest
schemes for her benevolent desires； and could then make others work for
her； and even work himself。 People usually loved Philip； even while they
criticised him； but Hope loved him first； and then could not criticise him at
all。
Nature seems always planning to equalize characters； and to protect
our friends from growing too perfect for our deserts。 Love； for instance；
is apt to strengthen the weak； and yet sometimes weakens the strong。
Under its influence Hope sometimes appeared at disadvantage。 Had the
object of her love been indifferent； the result might have been otherwise；
but her ample nature apparently needed to contract itself a little； to find
room within Philip's heart。 Not that in his presence she became vain or
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petty or jealous； that would have been impossible。 She only grew
credulous and absorbed and blind。 A kind of gentle obstinacy； too；
developed itself in her nature； and all suggestion of defects in him fell off
from her as from a marble image of Faith。 If he said or did anything；
there was no appeal； that was settled； let us pass to something else。
I almost blush to admit that Aunt Janeof whom it could by no means
be asserted that she was a saintly lady； but only a very charming one
rather rejoiced in this transformation。
〃I like it better； my dear；〃 she said； with her usual frankness； to Kate。
〃Hope was altogether too heavenly for my style。 When she first came here；
I secretly thought I never should care anything about her。 She seemed
nothing but a little moral tale。 I
