the chaperon-第3章

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Rose　sat　downshe　could　afford　toas　if　she　wished　to　be　very
attentive　and　were　still　accessible　to　argument。　　But　this
demonstration　only　ushered　in；　after　a　moment；　the　surprising　words
〃I　don't　think　papa　had　any　conscience。〃

〃What　in　the　name　of　all　that's　unnatural　do　you　mean？〃　Mrs。　Tramore
cried；　over　her　glasses。　　〃The　dearest　and　best　creature　that　ever
lived！〃

〃He　was　kind；　he　had　charming　impulses；　he　was　delightful。　　But　he
never　reflected。〃

Mrs。　Tramore　stared；　as　if　at　a　language　she　had　never　heard；　a
farrago；　a　galimatias。　　Her　life　was　made　up　of　items；　but　she　had
never　had　to　deal；　intellectually；　with　a　fine　shade。　　Then　while　her
needles；　which　had　paused　an　instant；　began　to　fly　again；　she
rejoined：　　〃Do　you　know　what　you　are；　my　dear？　　You're　a　dreadful
little　prig。　　Where　do　you　pick　up　such　talk？〃

〃Of　course　I　don't　mean　to　judge　between　them；〃　Rose　pursued。　　〃I　can
only　judge　between　my　mother　and　myself。　　Papa　couldn't　judge　for
me。〃　　And　with　this　she　got　up。

〃One　would　think　you　were　horrid。　　I　never　thought　so　before。〃

〃Thank　you　for　that。〃

〃You're　embarking　on　a　struggle　with　society；〃　continued　Mrs。
Tramore；　indulging　in　an　unusual　flight　of　oratory。　　〃Society　will
put　you　in　your　place。〃

〃Hasn't　it　too　many　other　things　to　do？〃　asked　the　girl。

This　question　had　an　ingenuity　which　led　her　grandmother　to　meet　it
with　a　merely　provisional　and　somewhat　sketchy　answer。　　〃Your
ignorance　would　be　melancholy　if　your　behaviour　were　not　so　insane。〃

〃Oh；　no；　I　know　perfectly　what　she'll　do！〃　Rose　replied；　almost
gaily。　　〃She'll　drag　me　down。〃

〃She　won't　even　do　that；〃　the　old　lady　declared　contradictiously。
〃She'll　keep　you　forever　in　the　same　dull　hole。〃

〃I　shall　come　and　see　YOU；　granny；　when　I　want　something　more
lively。〃

〃You　may　come　if　you　like；　but　you'll　come　no　further　than　the　door。
If　you　leave　this　house　now　you　don't　enter　it　again。〃

Rose　hesitated　a　moment。　　〃Do　you　really　mean　that？〃

〃You　may　judge　whether　I　choose　such　a　time　to　joke。〃

〃Good…bye；　then；〃　said　the　girl。

〃Good…bye。〃

Rose　quitted　the　room　successfully　enough；　but　on　the　other　side　of
the　door；　on　the　landing；　she　sank　into　a　chair　and　buried　her　face
in　her　hands。　　She　had　burst　into　tears；　and　she　sobbed　there　for　a
moment；　trying　hard　to　recover　herself；　so　as　to　go　downstairs
without　showing　any　traces　of　emotion；　passing　before　the　servants
and　again　perhaps　before　aunt　Julia。　　Mrs。　Tramore　was　too　old　to
cry；　she　could　only　drop　her　knitting　and；　for　a　long　time；　sit　with
her　head　bowed　and　her　eyes　closed。

Rose　had　reckoned　justly　with　her　aunt　Julia；　there　were　no　footmen；
but　this　vigilant　virgin　was　posted　at　the　foot　of　the　stairs。　　She
offered　no　challenge　however；　she　only　said：　　〃There's　some　one　in
the　parlour　who　wants　to　see　you。〃　　The　girl　demanded　a　name；　but
Miss　Tramore　only　mouthed　inaudibly　and　winked　and　waved。　　Rose
instantly　reflected　that　there　was　only　one　man　in　the　world　her　aunt
would　look　such　deep　things　about。　　〃Captain　Jay？〃　her　own　eyes
asked；　while　Miss　Tramore's　were　those　of　a　conspirator：　　they　were；
for　a　moment；　the　only　embarrassed　eyes　Rose　had　encountered　that
day。　　They　contributed　to　make　aunt　Julia's　further　response　evasive；
after　her　niece　inquired　if　she　had　communicated　in　advance　with　this
visitor。　　Miss　Tramore　merely　said　that　he　had　been　upstairs　with　her
motherhadn't　she　mentioned　it？and　had　been　waiting　for　her。　　She
thought　herself　acute　in　not　putting　the　question　of　the　girl's
seeing　him　before　her　as　a　favour　to　him　or　to　herself；　she　presented
it　as　a　duty；　and　wound　up　with　the　proposition：　　〃It's　not　fair　to
him；　it's　not　kind；　not　to　let　him　speak　to　you　before　you　go。〃

〃What　does　he　want　to　say？〃　Rose　demanded。

〃Go　in　and　find　out。〃

She　really　knew；　for　she　had　found　out　before；　but　after　standing
uncertain　an　instant　she　went　in。　　〃The　parlour〃　was　the　name　that
had　always　been　borne　by　a　spacious　sitting…room　downstairs；　an
apartment　occupied　by　her　father　during　his　frequent　phases　of
residence　in　Hill　Streetepisodes　increasingly　frequent　after　his
house　in　the　country　had；　in　consequence；　as　Rose　perfectly　knew；　of
his　spending　too　much　money；　been　disposed　of　at　a　sacrifice　which　he
always　characterised　as　horrid。　　He　had　been　left　with　the　place　in
Hertfordshire　and　his　mother　with　the　London　house；　on　the　general
understanding　that　they　would　change　about；　but　during　the　last　years
the　community　had　grown　more　rigid；　mainly　at　his　mother's　expense。
The　parlour　was　full　of　his　memory　and　his　habits　and　his　thingshis
books　and　pictures　and　bibelots；　objects　that　belonged　now　to　Eric。
Rose　had　sat　in　it　for　hours　since　his　death；　it　was　the　place　in
which　she　could　still　be　nearest　to　him。　　But　she　felt　far　from　him
as　Captain　Jay　rose　erect　on　her　opening　the　door。　　This　was　a　very
different　presence。　　He　had　not　liked　Captain　Jay。　　She　herself　had；
but　not　enough　to　make　a　great　complication　of　her　father's　coldness。
This　afternoon　however　she　foresaw　complications。　　At　the　very　outset
for　instance　she　was　not　pleased　with　his　having　arranged　such　a
surprise　for　her　with　her　grandmother　and　her　aunt。　　It　was　probably
aunt　Julia　who　had　sent　for　him；　her　grandmother　wouldn't　have　done
it。　　It　placed　him　immediately　on　their　side；　and　Rose　was　almost　as
disappointed　at　this　as　if　she　had　not　known　it　was　quite　where　he
would　naturally　be。　　He　had　never　paid　her　a　special　visit；　but　if
that　was　what　he　wished　to　do　why　shouldn't　he　have　waited　till　she
should　be　under　her　mother's　roof？　　She　knew　the　reason；　but　she　had
an　angry　prospect　of　enjoyment　in　making　him　express　it。　　She　liked
him　enough；　after　all；　if　it　were　measured　by　the　idea　of　what　she
could　make　him　do。

In　Bertram　Jay　the　elements　were　surprisingly　mingled；　you　would　have
gone　astray；　in　reading　him；　if　you　had　counted　on　finding　the
complements　of　some　of　his　qualities。　　He　would　not　however　have
struck　you　in　the　least　as　incomplete；　for　in　every　case　in　which　you
didn't　find　the　complement　you　would　have　found　the　contradiction。
He　was　in　the　Royal　Engineers；　and　was　tall；　lean　and　high…
shouldered。　　He　looked　every　inch　a　soldier；　yet　there　were　people
who　considered　that　he　had　missed　his　vocation　in　not　becoming　a
parson。　　He　took　a　public　interest　in　the　spiritual　life　of　the　army。
Other　persons　still；　on　closer　observation；　would　have　felt　that　his
most　appropriate　field　was　neither　the　army　nor　the　church；　but
simply　the　worldthe　social；　successful；　worldly　world。　　If　he　had　a
sword　in　one　hand　and　a　Bible　in　the　other　he　had　a　Court　Guide
concealed　somewhere　about　his　person。　　His　profile　was　hard　and
handsome；　his　eyes　were　both　cold　and　kind；　his　dark　straight　hair
was　imperturbably　smooth　and　prematurely　streaked　with　grey。　　There
was　nothing　in　existence　that　he　didn't　take　seriously。　　He　had　a
first…rate　power　of　work　and　an　ambition　as　minutely　organised　as　a
German　plan　of　invasion。　　His　only　real　recreation　was　to　go　to
church；　but　he　went　to　parties　when　he　had　time。　　If　he　was　in　love
with　Rose　Tramore　this　was　distracting　to　him　only　in　the　same　sense
as　his　religion；　and　it　was　included　in　that　department　of　his
extremely　sub…divided　life。　　His　religion　indeed　was　of　an
encroaching；　annexing　sort。　　Seen　from　in　front　he　looked　diffident
and　blank；　but　he　was　capable　of　exposing　himself　in　a　way　（to　speak
only　of　the　paths　of　peace）　wholly　inconsistent　with　shyness。　　He　had
a　passion　for　instance　for　open…air　speaking；　but　was　not　thought　on
the　whole　to　excel　in　it　unless　he　could　help　himself　out　with　a
hymn。　　In　conversation　he　kept　his　eyes　on　you　with　a　kind　of
colourless　candour；　as　if　he　had　not　understood　what　you　were　saying
and；　in　a　fashion　that　made　many　people　turn　red；　waited　before
answering。　　This　was　only　because　he　was　considering　their　remarks　in
more　relations　than　they　had　intended。　　He　had　in　his　face　no
expression　whatever　save　the　one　just　mentioned；　and　was；　in　his
profession；　already　very　distinguished。

He　had　seen　Rose　Tramore　for　the　first　time　on　a　Sunday　of　the
previous　March；　at　a　house　in　the　country　at　which　she　was　staying
with　her　father；　and　five　weeks　later　he　had　made　her；　by　letter；　an
offer　of　marriage。　　She　showed　her　father　the　letter　of　course；　and
he　told　her　that　it　would　give　him　great　pleasure　that　she　should
send　Captain　Jay　about　his　business。　　〃My　dear　child；〃　he　said；　〃we
must　really　have　some　one　who　will　be　better　fun　than　that。〃　　Rose
had　declined　the　honour；　very　considerately　and　kindly；　but　not
simply　because　her　father　wished　it。　　She　didn't　herself　wish　to
detach　this　flower　from　the　stem；　though　when　the　young　man　wrote
again；　to　express　the　hope　that　he　MIGHT　hopeso　long　was　he　willing
to　waitand　ask　if　he　might　not　still　sometimes　see　her；　she
answered　even　more　indulgently　than　at　first。　　She　had　shown　her
father　her　former　letter；　but　she　didn't　show　him　this　one；　she　only
told　him　what　it　contained；　submitting　to　him　also　that　of　her
correspondent。　　Captain　Jay　moreover　wrote　to　Mr。　Tramore；　who
replied　sociably；　but　so　vaguely　that　he　almost　neglected　the　subject
under　discussiona　communication　that　made　poor　Bertram　ponder　long。
He　could　never　get　to　the　bottom　of　the　superficial；　and　all　the
proprieties　and　conventions　of　life　were　profound　to　him。
Fortunately　for　him　old　Mrs。　Tramore　liked　him；　he　was　satisfactory
to　her　long…sightedness；　so　that　a　relation　was　established　under
cover　of　which　he　still　occasionally　presented　himself　in　Hill
Streetpresented　himself　nominally　to　the　mistress　of　the　house。　　He
had　had　scruples　about　the　veracity　of　his　visits；　but　he　had
disposed　of　them；　he　had　scruples　about　so　many　things　that　he　had
had　to　invent　a　general　way；　to　dig　a　central　drain。　　Julia　Tramore
happened　to　meet　him　when　she　came　up　to　town；　and　she　took　a　view　of
him　more　benevolent　than　her　usual　estimate　of　people　encouraged　by
her　mother。　　The　fear　of　agreeing　with　that　lady　was　a　motive；　but
there　was　a　stronger　one；　in　this　particular　case；　in　the　fear　of
agreeing　with　her　niece；　who　had　rejected　him。　　His　situation　might
be　held　to　have　improved　when　Mr。　Tramore　was　taken　so　gravely　ill
that　with　regard　to　his　recovery　those　about　him　left　their　eyes　to
speak　for　their　lips；　and　in　the　light　of　the　poor　gentleman's　recent
death　it　was　doubtless　better　than　it　had　ever　been。

He　was　only　a　quarter　of　an　hour　with　the　girl；　but　this　gave　him
time　to　take　the　measure　of　it。　　After　he　had　spoken　to　her　about　her
bereavement；　very　much　as　an　especially　mild　missionary　might　have
spoken　to　a　beautiful　Polynesian；　he　let　her　know　that　he　had　learned
from　her　companions　the　very　strong　step　she　was　about　to　take。　　This
led　to　their　spending　together　ten　minutes　which；　to　her　mind；　threw
more　light　on　his　character　than　anything　that　had　ever　passed
between　them。　　She　had　always　felt　with　him　as　if　she　were　standing
on　an　edge；　looking　down　into　something　decidedly　deep。　　To…day　the
impression　of　the　perpendicular　shaft　was　there；　but　it　was　rather　an
abyss　of　confusion　and　disorder　than　the　large