a laodicean-第66章

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telling　her　aunt　of　this　discovery　she　announced　to　that　lady
that　it　was　her　great　wish　to　go　on　and　see　the　beauties　of
Lisieux。

But　though　her　aunt　was　simple；　there　were　bounds　to　her
simplicity。　　'Paula；'　she　said；　with　an　undeceivable　air；　'I
don't　think　you　should　run　after　a　young　man　like　this。
Suppose　he　shouldn't　care　for　you　by　this　time。'

It　was　no　occasion　for　further　affectation。　　'I　am　SURE　he
will；'　answered　her　niece　flatly。　　'I　have　not　the　least　fear
about　itnor　would　you；　if　you　knew　how　he　is。　　He　will
forgive　me　anything。'

'Well；　pray　don't　show　yourself　forward。　　Some　people　are　apt
to　fly　into　extremes。'

Paula　blushed　a　trifle；　and　reflected；　and　made　no　answer。
However；　her　purpose　seemed　not　to　be　permanently　affected；
for　the　next　morning　she　was　up　betimes　and　preparing　to
depart；　and　they　proceeded　almost　without　stopping　to　the
architectural　curiosity…town　which　had　so　quickly　interested
her。　　Nevertheless　her　ardent　manner　of　yesterday　underwent　a
considerable　change；　as　if　she　had　a　fear　that；　as　her　aunt
suggested；　in　her　endeavour　to　make　amends　for　cruel
injustice；　she　was　allowing　herself　to　be　carried　too　far。

On　nearing　the　place　she　said；　'Aunt；　I　think　you　had　better
call　upon　him；　and　you　need　not　tell　him　we　have　come　on
purpose。　　Let　him　think；　if　he　will；　that　we　heard　he　was
here；　and　would　not　leave　without　seeing　him。　　You　can　also
tell　him　that　I　am　anxious　to　clear　up　a　misunderstanding；　and
ask　him　to　call　at　our　hotel。'

But　as　she　looked　over　the　dreary　suburban　erections　which
lined　the　road　from　the　railway　to　the　old　quarter　of　the
town；　it　occurred　to　her　that　Somerset　would　at　that　time　of
day　be　engaged　in　one　or　other　of　the　mediaeval　buildings
thereabout；　and　that　it　would　be　a　much　neater　thing　to　meet
him　as　if　by　chance　in　one　of　these　edifices　than　to　call　upon
him　anywhere。　　Instead　of　putting　up　at　any　hotel；　they　left
the　maids　and　baggage　at　the　station；　and　hiring　a　carriage；
Paula　told　the　coachman　to　drive　them　to　such　likely　places　as
she　could　think　of。

'He'll　never　forgive　you；'　said　her　aunt；　as　they　rumbled　into
the　town。

'Won't　he？'　said　Paula；　with　soft　faith。　　'I'll　see　about
that。'

'What　are　you　going　to　do　when　you　find　him？　　Tell　him　point…
blank　that　you　are　in　love　with　him？'

'Act　in　such　a　manner　that　he　may　tell　me　he　is　in　love　with
me。'

They　first　visited　a　large　church　at　the　upper　end　of　a　square
that　sloped　its　gravelled　surface　to　the　western　shine；　and
was　pricked　out　with　little　avenues　of　young　pollard　limes。
The　church　within　was　one　to　make　any　Gothic　architect　take
lodgings　in　its　vicinity　for　a　fortnight；　though　it　was　just
now　crowded　with　a　forest　of　scaffolding　for　repairs　in
progress。　　Mrs。　Goodman　sat　down　outside；　and　Paula；　entering；
took　a　walk　in　the　form　of　a　horse…shoe；　that　is；　up　the　south
aisle；　round　the　apse；　and　down　the　north　side；　but　no　figure
of　a　melancholy　young　man　sketching　met　her　eye　anywhere。　　The
sun　that　blazed　in　at　the　west　doorway　smote　her　face　as　she
emerged　from　beneath　it　and　revealed　real　sadness　there。

'This　is　not　all　the　old　architecture　of　the　town　by　far；'　she
said　to　her　aunt　with　an　air　of　confidence。　　'Coachman；　drive
to　St。　Jacques'。'

He　was　not　at　St。　Jacques'。　　Looking　from　the　west　end　of　that
building　the　girl　observed　the　end　of　a　steep　narrow　street　of
antique　character；　which　seemed　a　likely　haunt。　　Beckoning　to
her　aunt　to　follow　in　the　fly　Paula　walked　down　the　street。

She　was　transported　to　the　Middle　Ages。　　It　contained　the
shops　of　tinkers；　braziers；　bellows…menders；　hollow…turners；
and　other　quaintest　trades；　their　fronts　open　to　the　street
beneath　stories　of　timber　overhanging　so　far　on　each　side　that
a　slit　of　sky　was　left　at　the　top　for　the　light　to　descend；
and　no　more。　　A　blue　misty　obscurity　pervaded　the　atmosphere；
into　which　the　sun　thrust　oblique　staves　of　light。　　It　was　a
street　for　a　mediaevalist　to　revel　in；　toss　up　his　hat　and
shout　hurrah　in；　send　for　his　luggage；　come　and　live　in；　die
and　be　buried　in。　　She　had　never　supposed　such　a　street　to
exist　outside　the　imaginations　of　antiquarians。　　Smells　direct
from　the　sixteenth　century　hung　in　the　air　in　all　their
original　integrity　and　without　a　modern　taint。　　The　faces　of
the　people　in　the　doorways　seemed　those　of　individuals　who
habitually　gazed　on　the　great　Francis；　and　spoke　of　Henry　the
Eighth　as　the　king　across　the　sea。

She　inquired　of　a　coppersmith　if　an　English　artist　had　been
seen　here　lately。　　With　a　suddenness　that　almost　discomfited
her　he　announced　that　such　a　man　had　been　seen；　sketching　a
house　just　belowthe　'Vieux　Manoir　de　Francois　premier。'
Just　turning　to　see　that　her　aunt　was　following　in　the　fly；
Paula　advanced　to　the　house。　　The　wood　framework　of　the　lower
story　was　black　and　varnished；　the　upper　story　was　brown　and
not　varnished；　carved　figures　of　dragons；　griffins；　satyrs；
and　mermaids　swarmed　over　the　front；　an　ape　stealing　apples
was　the　subject　of　this　cantilever；　a　man　undressing　of　that。
These　figures　were　cloaked　with　little　cobwebs　which　waved　in
the　breeze；　so　that　each　figure　seemed　alive。

She　examined　the　woodwork　closely；　here　and　there　she
discerned　pencil…marks　which　had　no　doubt　been　jotted　thereon
by　Somerset　as　points　of　admeasurement；　in　the　way　she　had
seen　him　mark　them　at　the　castle。　　Some　fragments　of　paper　lay
below：　　there　were　pencilled　lines　on　them；　and　they　bore　a
strong　resemblance　to　a　spoilt　leaf　of　Somerset's　sketch…book。
Paula　glanced　up；　and　from　a　window　above　protruded　an　old
woman's　head；　which；　with　the　exception　of　the　white
handkerchief　tied　round　it；　was　so　nearly　of　the　colour　of　the
carvings　that　she　might　easily　have　passed　as　of　a　piece　with
them。　　The　aged　woman　continued　motionless；　the　remains　of　her
eyes　being　bent　upon　Paula；　who　asked　her　in　Englishwoman's
French　where　the　sketcher　had　gone。　　Without　replying；　the
crone　produced　a　hand　and　extended　finger　from　her　side；　and
pointed　towards　the　lower　end　of　the　street。

Paula　went　on；　the　carriage　following　with　difficulty；　on
account　of　the　obstructions　in　the　thoroughfare。　　At　bottom；
the　street　abutted　on　a　wide　one　with　customary　modern　life
flowing　through　it；　and　as　she　looked；　Somerset　crossed　her
front　along　this　street；　hurrying　as　if　for　a　wager。

By　the　time　that　Paula　had　reached　the　bottom　Somerset　was　a
long　way　to　the　left；　and　she　recognized　to　her　dismay　that
the　busy　transverse　street　was　one　which　led　to　the　railway。
She　quickened　her　pace　to　a　run；　he　did　not　see　her；　he　even
walked　faster。　　She　looked　behind　for　the　carriage。　　The
driver　in　emerging　from　the　sixteenth…century　street　to　the
nineteenth　had　apparently　turned　to　the　right；　instead　of　to
the　left　as　she　had　done；　so　that　her　aunt　had　lost　sight　of
her。　　However；　she　dare　not　mind　it；　if　Somerset　would　but
look　back！　　He　partly　turned；　but　not　far　enough；　and　it　was
only　to　hail　a　passing　omnibus　upon　which　she　discerned　his
luggage。　　Somerset　jumped　in；　the　omnibus　drove　on；　and
diminished　up　the　long　road。　　Paula　stood　hopelessly　still；
and　in　a　few　minutes　puffs　of　steam　showed　her　that　the　train
had　gone。

She　turned　and　waited；　the　two　or　three　children　who　had
gathered　round　her　looking　up　sympathizingly　in　her　face。　　Her
aunt；　having　now　discovered　the　direction　of　her　flight；　drove
up　and　beckoned　to　her。

'What's　the　matter？'　asked　Mrs。　Goodman　in　alarm。

'Why？'

'That　you　should　run　like　that；　and　look　so　woebegone。'

'Nothing：　　only　I　have　decided　not　to　stay　in　this　town。'

'What！　he　is　gone；　I　suppose？'

'Yes！'　exclaimed　Paula；　with　tears　of　vexation　in　her　eyes。
'It　isn't　every　man　who　gets　a　woman　of　my　position　to　run
after　him　on　foot；　and　alone；　and　he　ought　to　have　looked
round！　　Drive　to　the　station；　I　want　to　make　an　inquiry。'

On　reaching　the　station　she　asked　the　booking…clerk　some
questions；　and　returned　to　her　aunt　with　a　cheerful
countenance。　　'Mr。　Somerset　has　only　gone　to　Caen；'　she　said。
'He　is　the　only　Englishman　who　went　by　this　train；　so　there　is
no　mistake。　　There　is　no　other　train　for　two　hours。　　We　will
go　on　thenshall　we？'

'I　am　indifferent；'　said　Mrs。　Goodman。　　'But；　Paula；　do　you
think　this　quite　right？　　Perhaps　he　is　not　so　anxious　for　your
forgiveness　as　you　think。　　Perhaps　he　saw　you；　and　wouldn't
stay。'

A　momentary　dismay　crossed　her　face；　but　it　passed；　and　she
answered；　'Aunt；　that's　nonsense。　　I　know　him　well　enough；　and
can　assure　you　that　if　he　had　only　known　I　was　running　after
him；　he　would　have　looked　round　sharply　enough；　and　would　have
given　his　little　finger　rather　than　have　missed　me！　　I　don't
make　myself　so　silly　as　to　run　after　a　gentleman　without　good
grounds；　for　I　know　well　that　it　is　an　undignified　thing　to
do。　　Indeed；　I　could　never　have　thought　of　doing　it；　if　I　had
not　been　so　miserably　in　the　wrong！'



II。

That　evening　when　the　sun　was　dropping　out　of　sight　they
started　for　the　city　of　Somerset's　pilgrimage。　　Paula　seated
herself　with　her　face　toward　the　western　sky；　watching　from
her　window　the　broad　red　horizon；　across　which　moved　thin
poplars　lopped　to　human　shapes；　like　the　walking　forms　in
Nebuchadnezzar's　furnace。　　It　was　dark　when　the　travellers
drove　into　Caen。

She　still　persisted　in　her　wish　to　casually　encounter　Somerset
in　some　aisle；　lady…chapel；　or　crypt　to　which　he　might　have
betaken　himself　to　copy　and　learn　the　secret　of　the　great
artists　who　had　erected　those　nooks。　　Mrs。　Goodman　was　for
discovering　his　inn；　and　calling　upon　him　in　a　straightforward
way；　but　Paula　seemed　afraid　of　it；　and　they　went　out　in　the
morning　on　foot。　　First　they　searched　the　church　of　St。
Sauveur；　he　was　not　there；　next　the　church　of　St。　Jean；　then
the　church　of　St。　Pierre；　but　he　did　not　reveal　himself；　nor
had　any　verger　seen　or　heard　of　such　a　man。　　Outside　the
latter　church　was　a　public　flower…garden；　and　she　sat　down　to
consider　beside　a　round　pool　in　which　water…lilies　grew　and
gold…fish　swam；　near　beds　of　fiery　geraniums；　dahlias；　and
verbenas　just　past　their　bloom。　　Her　enterprise　had　not　been
justified　by　its　results　so　far；　but　meditation　still　urged
her　to　listen　to　the　little　voice　within　and　push　on。　　She
accordingly　rejoined　her　aunt；　and　they　drove　up　the　hill　to
the　Abbaye　aux　Dames；　the　day　by　this　time　having　grown　hot
and　oppressive。

The　church　seemed　absolutely　empty；　the　void　being　emphasized
by　its　grateful　coolness。　　But　on　going　towards　the　east　end
they　perceived　a　bald　gentleman　close　to　the　screen；　looking
to　the　right　and　to　the　left　as　if　much　perplexed。　　Paula
merely　glanced　over　him；　his　back　being　toward　her；　and
turning　to　her　aunt　said　softly；　'I　wonder　how　we　get　into　the
choir？'

'That's　just　what　I　am　wondering；'　said　the　old　gentleman；
abruptly　facing　round；　and　Paula　discovered　that　the
countenance　was　not　unfamiliar　to　her　eye。　　Since　knowing
Somerset　she　had　added　to　her　gallery　of　celebrities　a
photograph　of　his　father；　the　Academician；　and　he　it　was　now
who　confronted　her。

For　the　moment　embarrassment；　due　to　complicated　feelings；
brought　a　slight　blush　to　her　cheek；　but　bei