malvina of brittany-第25章

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out　for　myself。　　But　I　was　a　bit　lonely。〃

〃Why　didn't　you？〃　he　asked。

She　hesitated　for　a　moment。

〃It's　rather　soon　to　make　up　one's　mind；〃　she　said；　〃but　you　seem　to
me　to　have　changed。　　Your　voice　sounds　so　different。　　But　as　a　boy
well；　you　were　a　bit　of　a　prig；　weren't　you？　　I　imagined　you　writing
me　good　advice　and　excellent　short　sermons。　　And　it　wasn't　that　that
I　was　wanting。〃

〃I　think　I　understand；〃　he　said。　　〃I'm　glad　you　got　through。

〃What　is　your　line？〃　he　asked。　　〃Journalism？〃

〃No；〃　she　answered。　　〃Too　self…opinionated。〃

She　opened　a　bureau　that　had　always　been　her　own　and　handed　him　a
programme。　　〃Miss　Ann　Kavanagh；　Contralto；〃　was　announced　on　it　as
one　of　the　chief　attractions。

〃I　didn't　know　you　had　a　voice；〃　said　Matthew。

〃You　used　to　complain　of　it；〃　she　reminded　him。

〃Your　speaking　voice；〃　he　corrected　her。　　〃And　it　wasn't　the　quality
of　that　I　objected　to。　　It　was　the　quantity。〃

She　laughed。

〃Yes；　we　kept　ourselves　pretty　busy　bringing　one　another　up；〃　she
admitted。

They　talked　a　while　longer：　　of　Abner　and　his　kind；　quaint　ways；　of
old　friends。　　Ann　had　lost　touch　with　most　of　them。　　She　had　studied
singing　in　Brussels；　and　afterwards　her　master　had　moved　to　London
and　she　had　followed　him。　　She　had　only　just　lately　returned　to　New
York。

The　small　servant　entered　to　clear　away　the　tea　things。　　She　said
she　thought　that　Ann　had　rung。　　Her　tone　implied　that　anyhow　it　was
time　she　had。　　Matthew　rose　and　Ann　held　out　her　hand。

〃I　shall　be　at　the　concert；〃　he　said。

〃It　isn't　till　next　week；〃　Ann　reminded　him。

〃Oh；　I'm　not　in　any　particular　hurry；〃　said　Matthew。　　〃Are　you
generally　in　of　an　afternoon？〃

〃Sometimes；〃　said　Ann。


He　thought　as　he　sat　watching　her　from　his　stall　that　she　was　one　of
the　most　beautiful　women　he　had　ever　seen。　　Her　voice　was　not　great。
She　had　warned　him　not　to　expect　too　much。

〃It　will　never　set　the　Thames　on　fire；〃　she　had　said。　　〃I　thought　at
first　that　it　would。　　But　such　as　it　is　I　thank　God　for　it。〃

It　was　worth　that。　　It　was　sweet　and　clear　and　had　a　tender　quality。

Matthew　waited　for　her　at　the　end。　　She　was　feeling　well　disposed
towards　all　creatures　and　accepted　his　suggestion　of　supper　with
gracious　condescension。

He　had　called　on　her　once　or　twice　during　the　preceding　days。　　It
was　due　to　her　after　his　long　neglect　of　her；　he　told　himself；　and
had　found　improvement　in　her。　　But　to…night　she　seemed　to　take　a
freakish　pleasure　in　letting　him　see　that　there　was　much　of　the　old
Ann　still　left　in　her：　　the　frank　conceit　of　her；　the　amazing
self…opinionatedness　of　her；　the　waywardness；　the　wilfulness；　the
unreasonableness　of　her；　the　general　uppishness　and　dictatorialness
of　her；　the　contradictoriness　and　flat　impertinence　of　her；　the
swift　temper　and　exasperating　tongue　of　her。

It　was　almost　as　if　she　were　warning　him。　　〃You　see；　I　am　not
changed；　except；　as　you　say；　in　appearance。　　I　am　still　Ann　with　all
the　old　faults　and　failings　that　once　made　life　in　the　same　house
with　me　a　constant　trial　to　you。　　Just　now　my　very　imperfections
appear　charms。　　You　have　been　looking　at　the　sunat　the　glory　of　my
face；　at　the　wonder　of　my　arms　and　hands。　　Your　eyes　are　blinded。
But　that　will　pass。　　And　underneath　I　am　still　Ann。　　Just　Ann。〃

They　had　quarrelled　in　the　cab　on　the　way　home。　　He　forgot　what　it
was　about；　but　Ann　had　said　some　quite　rude　things；　and　her　face　not
being　there　in　the　darkness　to　excuse　her；　it　had　made　him　very
angry。　　She　had　laughed　again　on　the　steps；　and　they　had　shaken
hands。　　But　walking　home　through　the　still　streets　Sylvia　had
plucked　at　his　elbow。

What　fools　we　mortals　beespecially　men！　　Here　was　a　noble　womana
restful；　understanding；　tenderly　loving　woman；　a　woman　as　nearly
approaching　perfection　as　it　was　safe　for　a　woman　to　go！　　This
marvellous　woman　was　waiting　for　him　with　outstretched　arms　（why
should　he　doubt　it？）and　just　because　Nature　had　at　last　succeeded
in　making　a　temporary　success　of　Ann's　skin　and　had　fashioned　a
rounded　line　above　her　shoulder…blade！　　It　made　him　quite　cross　with
himself。　　Ten　years　ago　she　had　been　gawky　and　sallow…complexioned。
Ten　years　hence　she　might　catch　the　yellow　jaundice　and　lose　it　all。
Passages　in　Sylvia's　letters　returned　to　him。　　He　remembered　that
far…off　evening　in　his　Paris　attic　when　she　had　knocked　at　his　door
with　her　great　gift　of　thanks。　　Recalled　how　her　soft　shadow　hand
had　stilled　his　pain。　　He　spent　the　next　two　days　with　Sylvia。　　He
re…read　all　her　letters；　lived　again　the　scenes　and　moods　in　which
he　had　replied　to　them。

Her　personality　still　defied　the　efforts　of　his　imagination；　but　he
ended　by　convincing　himself　that　he　would　know　her　when　he　saw　her。
But　counting　up　the　women　on　Fifth　Avenue　towards　whom　he　had　felt
instinctively　drawn；　and　finding　that　the　number　had　already　reached
eleven；　began　to　doubt　his　intuition。　　On　the　morning　of　the　third
day　he　met　Ann　by　chance　in　a　bookseller's　shop。　　Her　back　was
towards　him。　　She　was　glancing　through　Aston　Rowant's　latest　volume。

〃What　I；〃　said　the　cheerful　young　lady　who　was　attending　to　her；
〃like　about　him　is　that　he　understands　women　so　well。〃

〃What　I　like　about　him；〃　said　Ann；　〃is　that　he　doesn't　pretend　to。〃

〃There's　something　in　that；〃　agreed　the　cheerful　young　lady。　　〃They
say　he's　here　in　New　York。〃

Ann　looked　up。

〃So　I've　been　told；〃　said　the　cheerful　young　lady。

〃I　wonder　what　he's　like？〃　said　Ann。

〃He　wrote　for　a　long　time　under　another　name；〃　volunteered　the
cheerful　young　lady。　　〃He's　quite　an　elderly　man。〃

It　irritated　Matthew。　　He　spoke　without　thinking。

〃No；　he　isn't；〃　he　said。　　〃He's　quite　young。〃

The　ladies　turned　and　looked　at　him。

〃You　know　him？〃　queried　Ann。　　She　was　most　astonished；　and　appeared
disbelieving。　　That　irritated　him　further。

〃If　you　care　about　it；〃　he　said。　　〃I　will　introduce　you　to　him。〃

Ann　made　no　answer。　　He　bought　a　copy　of　the　book　for　himself；　and
they　went　out　together。　　They　turned　towards　the　park。

Ann　seemed　thoughtful。　　〃What　is　he　doing　here　in　New　York？〃　she
wondered。

〃Looking　for　a　lady　named　Sylvia；〃　answered　Matthew。

He　thought　the　time　was　come　to　break　it　to　her　that　he　was　a　great
and　famous　man。　　Then　perhaps　she　would　be　sorry　she　had　said　what
she　had　said　in　the　cab。　　Seeing　he　had　made　up　his　mind　that　his
relationship　to　her　in　the　future　would　be　that　of　an　affectionate
brother；　there　would　be　no　harm　in　also　letting　her　know　about
Sylvia。　　That　also　might　be　good　for　her。

They　walked　two　blocks　before　Ann　spoke。　　Matthew；　anticipating　a
pleasurable　conversation；　felt　no　desire　to　hasten　matters。

〃How　intimate　are　you　with　him？〃　she　demanded。　　〃I　don't　think　he
would　have　said　that　to　a　mere　acquaintance。〃

〃I'm　not　a　mere　acquaintance；〃　said　Matthew。　　〃I've　known　him　a　long
time。〃

〃You　never　told　me；〃　complained　Ann。

〃Didn't　know　it　would　interest　you；〃　replied　Matthew。

He　waited　for　further　questions；　but　they　did　not　come。　　At　Thirty…
fourth　Street　he　saved　her　from　being　run　over　and　killed；　and　again
at　Forty…second　Street。　　Just　inside　the　park　she　stopped　abruptly
and　held　out　her　hand。

〃Tell　him；〃　she　replied；　〃that　if　he　is　really　serious　about　finding
Sylvia；　I　mayI　don't　say　I　canbut　I　may　be　able　to　help　him。〃

He　did　not　take　her　hand；　but　stood　stock　still　in　the　middle　of　the
path　and　stared　at　her。

〃You！〃　he　said。　　〃You　know　her？〃

She　was　prepared　for　his　surprise。　　She　was　also　preparednot　with
a　lie；　that　implies　evil　intention。　　Her　only　object　was　to　have　a
talk　with　the　gentleman　and　see　what　he　was　like　before　deciding　on
her　future　proceedingslet　us　say；　with　a　plausible　story。

〃We　crossed　on　the　same　boat；〃　she　said。　　〃We　found　there　was　a　good
deal　in　common　between　us。　　Sheshe　told　me　things。〃　　When　you　came
to　think　it　out　it　was　almost　the　truth。

〃What　is　she　like？〃　demanded　Matthew。

〃Oh；　justwell；　not　exactly〃　　It　was　an　awkward　question。　　There
came　to　her　relief　the　reflection　that　there　was　really　no　need　for
her　to　answer　it。

〃What's　it　got　to　do　with　you？〃　she　said。

〃I　am　Aston　Rowant；〃　said　Matthew。

The　Central　Park；　together　with　the　universe　in　general；　fell　away
and　disappeared。　　Somewhere　out　of　chaos　was　sounding　a　plaintive
voice：　　〃What　is　she　like？　　Can't　you　tell　me？　　Is　she　young　or
old？〃

It　seemed　to　have　been　going　on　for　ages。　　She　made　one　supreme
gigantic　effort；　causing　the　Central　Park　to　reappear；　dimly；
faintly；　but　it　was　there　again。　　She　was　sitting　on　a　seat。
MatthewAston　Rowant；　whatever　it　waswas　seated　beside　her。

〃You've　seen　her？　　What　is　she　like？〃

〃I　can't　tell　you。〃

He　was　evidently　very　cross　with　her。　　It　seemed　so　unkind　of　him。

〃Why　can't　you　tell　meor；　why　won't　you　tell　me？　　Do　you　mean
she's　too　awful　for　words？〃

〃No；　certainly　notas　a　matter　of　fact〃

〃Well；　what？〃

She　felt　she　must　get　away　or　there　would　be　hysterics　somewhere。
She　sprang　up　and　began　to　walk　rapidly　towards　the　gate。　　He
followed　her。

〃I'll　write　you；〃　said　Ann。

〃But　why？〃

〃I　can't；〃　said　Ann。　　〃I've　got　a　rehearsal。〃

A　car　was　passing。　　She　made　a　dash　for　it　and　clambered　on。　　Before
he　could　make　up　his　mind　it　had　gathered　speed。

Ann　let　herself　in　with　her　key。　　She　called　downstairs　to　the　small
servant　that　she　wasn't　to　be　disturbed　for　anything。　　She　locked
the　door。

So　it　was　to　Matthew　that　for　six　years　she　had　been　pouring　out　her
inmost　thoughts　and　feelings！　　It　was　to　Matthew　that　she　had　laid
bare　her　tenderest；　most　sacred　dreams！　　It　was　at　Matthew's　feet
that　for　six　years　she　had　been　sitting；　gazing　up　with　respectful
admiration；　with　reverential　devotion！　　She　recalled　her　letters；
almost　passage　for　passage；　till　she　had　to　hold　her　hands　to　her
face　to　cool　it。　　Her　indignation；　one　might　almost　say　fury；　lasted
till　tea…time。

In　the　eveningit　was　in　the　evening　time　that　she　had　always
written　to　hima　more　reasonable　frame　of　mind　asserted　itself。
After　all；　it　was　hardly　his　fault。　　He　couldn't　have　known　who　she
was。　　He　didn't　know　now。　　She　had　wanted　to　write。　　Without　doubt
he　had　helped　her；　comforted　her　loneliness；　had　given　her　a
charming　friendship；　a　delightful　comradeship。　　Much　of　his　work　had
been　written　for　her；　to　her。　　It　was　fine　work。　　She　had　been　proud
of　her　share　in　it。　　Even　allowing　there　were　faultsirritability；
shortness　of　temper；　a　tendency　to　bossiness！underneath　it　all　was
a　man。　　The　gallant　struggle；　the　difficulties　overcome；　the　long
suffering；　the　high　courageall　that　she；　reading　between　the
lines；　had　divined　of　his　life's　battle！　　Yes；　it　was　a　man　she　had
worshipped。　　A　woman　need　not　be　ashamed　of　that。　　As　Matthew　he　had
seemed　to　her　conceited；　priggish。　　As　Aston　Rowant　she　wondered　at
his　modesty；　his　patience。

And　all　these　years　he　had　been　dreaming　of　her；　had　followed　her　to
New　York；　had

There　came　a　sudden　mood　so　ludicrous；　so　absurdly　unreasonable　that
Ann　herself　stopped　to　laugh　at　it。　　Yet　it　was　real；　and　it　hurt。
He　had　come　to　New　York　thinking　of　Sylvia；　yearning　for　Sylvia。　　He
had　come　to　New　York　with　one　desire：　　to　find　Sylvia。