the price she paid-第6章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


attendants；　cooks；　maids。　　But；　as　she　now　realized；　it　is　one　thing　to　pass　upon　the　work　of　others；　it　is　another　thing　to　do　work　oneself。　She　　There　was　literally　nothing　that　she　could　do。　Any　occupation；　even　the　most　menial；　was　either　beyond　her　skill　or　beyond　her　strength；　or　beyond　both。

Suddenly　she　recalled　that　she　could　sing。　　Her　prostrate　spirit　suddenly　leaped　erect。　　Yes；　she　could　sing！　Her　voice　had　been　praised　by　experts。　　Her　singing　had　been　in　demand　at　charity　entertainments　where　amateurs　had　to　compete　with　professionals。　　Then　down　she　dropped　again。　　She　sang　well　enough　to　know　how　badly　she　sangthe　long　and　toilsome　and　expensive　training　that　lay　between　her　and　operatic　or　concert　or　even　music…hall　stage。　　Her　voice　was　fine　at　times。　　Againmost　of　the　timeit　was　unreliable。　No；　she　could　not　hope　to　get　paying　employment　even　as　a　church　choir…singer。　　Miss　Dresser　who　sang　in　the　choir　of　the　Good　Shepherd　for　ten　dollars　a　Sunday；　had　not　nearly　so　good　a　voice　as　she；　but　it　was　reliable。

‘‘There　is　nothing　I　can　donothing！''

All　at　once；　with　no　apparent　bridge　across　the　vast　chasm；　her　heart　went　out；　not　in　pity　but　in　human　understanding　and　sisterly　sympathy；　to　the　women　of　the　pariah　class　at　whom；　during　her　stops　in　New　York；　she　had　sometimes　gazed　in　wonder　and　horror。　　‘‘Why；　we　and　they　are　only　a　step　apart；''　she　said　to　herself　in　amazement。　　‘‘We　and　they　are　much　nearer　than　my　maid　or　the　cook　and　they！''

And　then　her　heart　skipped　a　beat　and　her　skin　grew　cold　and　a　fog　swirled　over　her　brain。　　If　she　should　be　cast　outif　she　could　find　no　work　and　no　one　to　support　herwould　she　　‘‘O　my　God！''　she　moaned。　‘‘I　must　be　crazy；　to　think　such　thoughts。　　I　never　could！　　I'd　die　firstDIE！''　　But　if　anyone　had　pictured　to　her　the　kind　of　life　she　was　now　leadingthe　humiliation　and　degradation　she　was　meekly　enduring　with　no　thought　of　flight；　with　an　ever　stronger　desire　to　stay　on；　regardless　of　pride　and　self…respectif　anyone　had　pictured　this　to　her　as　what　she　would　endure；　what　would　she　have　said？　　She　could　see　herself　flashing　scornful　denial；　saying　that　she　would　rather　kill　herself。　　Yet　she　was　livingand　was　not　even　contemplating　suicide　as　a　way　out！

A　few　days　after　Presbury　gave　her　warning；　her　mother　took　advantage　of　his　absence　for　his　religiously　observed　daily　constitutional　to　say　to　her：

‘‘I　hope　you　didn't　think　I　was　behind　him　in　what　he　said　to　you　about　going　away？''

Mildred　had　not　thought　so；　but　in　her　mother's　guilty　tone　and　guiltier　eyes　she　now　read　that　her　mother　wished　her　to　go。

‘‘It'd　be　awful　for　me　to　be　left　here　alone　with　him；''　wailed　her　mother　insincerely。　　‘‘Of　course　we've　got　no　money；　and　beggars　can't　be　choosers。　　But　it'd　just　about　kill　me　to　have　you　go。''

Mildred　could　not　speak。

‘‘I　don't　know　a　thing　about　money；''　Mrs。　Presbury　went　on。　　‘‘Your　father　always　looked　after　everything。''　She　had　fallen　into　the　way　of　speaking　of　her　first　husband　as　part　of　some　vague；　remote　past；　which；　indeed；　he　had　become　for　her。　　‘‘This　man''　meaning　Presbury‘‘has　only　about　five　thousand　a　year；　as　you　know。　　I　suppose　that's　as　small　as　he　says　it　is。　　I　remember　our　bills　for　one　month　used　to　be　as　much　or　more　than　that。''　　She　waved　her　useless；　pretty　hands　helplessly。　　‘‘I　don't　see　HOW　we　are　to　get　on；　Mildred！''

Her　mother　wished　her　to　go！　　Her　mother　had　fallen　under　the　influence　of　Presburyher　mother；　woman…　like；　or　rather；　ladylike；　was　of　kin　to　the　helpless；　flabby　things　that　float　in　the　sea　and　attach　themselves　to　whatever　they　happen　to　lodge　against。　　Her　mother　wished　her　to　go！

‘‘At　the　same　time；''　Mrs。　Presbury　went　on；　‘‘I　can't　live　without　somebody　here　to　stand　between　me　and　him。　　I'd　kill　him　or　kill　myself。''

Mildred　muttered　some　excuse　and　fled　from　the　room；　to　lock　herself　in。

But　when　she　came　forth　again　to　descend　to　dinner；　she　had　resolved　nothing；　because　there　was　nothing　to　resolve。　　When　she　was　a　child　she　leaned　from　the　nursery　window　one　day　and　saw　a　stable…boy　drowning　a　rat　that　was　in　a　big；　oval；　wire　cage　with　a　wooden　bottom。　　The　boy　pressed　the　cage　slowly　down　in　the　vat　of　water。　　The　rat；　in　the　very　top　of　the　cage；　watched　the　floor　sink；　watched　the　water　rise。　　And　as　it　watched　it　uttered　a　strange；　shrill；　feeble　sound　which　she　could　still　remember　distinctly　and　terribly。　　It　seemed　to　her　now　that　if　she　were　to　utter　any　sound　at　all；　it　would　be　that　one。



II

ON　the　Monday　before　Thanksgiving；　Presbury　went　up　to　New　York　to　look　after　one　of　the　little　speculations　in　Wall　Street　at　which　he　was　so　clever。　Throughout　the　civilized　world　nowadays；　and　especially　in　and　near　the　great　capitals　of　finance；　there　is　a　class　of　men　and　women　of　small　capital　and　of　a　character　in　which　are　combined　iron　self…restraint；　rabbit…like　timidity；　and　great　shrewdness；　who　make　often　a　not　inconsiderable　income　by　gambling　in　stocks。　　They　buy　only　when　the　market　is　advancing　strongly；　they　sell　as　soon　as　they　have　gained　the　scantest　margin　of　profit。　　They　never　permit　themselves　to　be　tempted　by　the　most　absolute　certainty　of　larger　gains。　　They　will　let　weeks；　months　even；　go　by　without　once　risking　a　dollar。　　They　wait　until　they　simply　cannot　lose。　　Tens　of　thousands　every　year　try　to　join　this　class。　　All　but　the　few　soon　succumb　to　the　hourly　dazzling　temptations　the　big　gamblers　dangle　before　the　eyes　of　the　little　gamblers　to　lure　them　within　reach　of　the　merciless　shears。

Presbury　had　for　many　years　added　from　one　to　ten　thousand　a　year　to　his　income　by　this　form　of　gambling；　success　at　which　is　in　itself　sufficient　to　stamp　a　man　as　infinitely　little　of　soul。　　On　that　Monday　he；　venturing　for　the　first　time　in　six　months；　returned　to　Hanging　Rock　on　the　three…thirty　train　the　richer　by　two　hundred　and　fifty　dollarsas　large　a　‘‘killing''　as　he　had　ever　made　in　any　single　day；　one　large　enough　to　elevate　him　to　the　rank　of　prince　among　the　‘‘sure…thing　snides。''　He　said　nothing　about　his　luck　to　his　family；　but　let　them　attribute　his　unprecedented　good　humor　to　the　news　he　brought　and　announced　at　dinner。

‘‘I　met　an　old　friend　in　the　street　this　afternoon；''　said　he。　　‘‘He　has　invited　us　to　take　Thanksgiving　dinner　with　him。　　And　I　think　it　will　be　a　dinner　worth　whilethe　food；　I　mean；　and　the　wine。　　Not　the　guests；　for　there　won't　be　any　guests　but　us。　　General　Siddall　is　a　stranger　in　New　York。''

‘‘There　are　Siddalls　in　New　York；''　said　his　wife；　‘‘very　nice；　refined　peoplegoing　in　the　best　society。''

Presbury　showed　his　false　teeth　in　a　genial　smile；　for　the　old…fashioned　or　plate　kind　of　false　teeth　they　were　extraordinarily　goodwhen　exactly　in　place。　　‘‘But　not　my　old　friend　Bill　Siddall；''　said　he。　　‘‘He's　next　door　to　an　outlaw。　　I'd　not　have　accepted　his　invitation　if　he　had　been　asking　us　to　dine　in　public。　　But　this　is　to　be　at　his　own　househis　new　houseand　a　very　grand　house　it　is；　judging　by　the　photos　he　showed　me。　A　regular　palace！　　He'll　not　be　an　outlaw　long；　I　guess。　But　we　must　wait　and　see　how　he　comes　out　socially　before　we　commit　ourselves。''

‘‘Did　you　accept　for　me；　too？''　asked　Mrs。　Presbury。

‘‘Certainly；''　said　Presbury。　　‘‘And　for　your　daughter；　too。''

‘‘I　can't　go；''　said　Mildred。　　‘‘I'm　dining　with　the　Fassetts。''

The　family　no　longer　had　a　servant　in　constant　attendance　in　the　dining…room。　　The　maid　of　many　functions　also　acted　as　butler　and　as　fetch…and…carry　between　kitchen　and　butler's　pantry。　　Before　speaking；　Presbury　waited　until　this　maid　had　withdrawn　to　bring　the　roast　and　the　vegetables。　　Then　he　said：

‘‘You　are　going；　too；　miss。''　　This　with　the　full　infusion　of　insult　into　the　‘‘miss。''

Mildred　was　silent。

‘‘Bill　Siddall　is　looking　for　a　wife；''　proceeded　Presbury。　　‘‘And　he　has　Heaven　knows　how　many　millions。''

‘‘Do　you　think　there's　a　chance　for　Milly？''　cried　Mrs。　Presbury；　who　was　full　of　alternating　hopes　and　fears；　both　wholly　irrational。

‘‘She　can　have　himif　she　wants　him；''　replied　Presbury。　　‘‘But　it's　only　fair　to　warn　her　that　he's　a　stiff　dose。''

‘‘Is　the　moneyCERTAIN？''　inquired　Mildred's　mother　with　that　shrewdness　whose　rare　occasional　displays　laid　her　open　to　the　unjust　suspicion　of　feigning　her　habitual　stupidity。

‘‘Yes；''　said　Presbury　amiably。　　‘‘It's　nothing　like　yours　was。　　He's　so　rich　he　doesn't　know　what　to　do　with　his　income。　　He　owns　mines　scattered　all　over　the　world。　　And　if　they　all　failed；　he's　got　bundles　of　railway　stocks　and　bonds；　and　gilt…edged　trust　stocks；　too。　And　he's　a　comparatively　young　manhardly　fifty；　I　should　say。　　He　pretends　to　be　forty。''

‘‘It's　strange　I　never　heard　of　him；''　said　Mrs。　Presbury。

‘‘If　you　went　to　South　America　or　South　Africa　or　Alaska；　you'd　hear　of　him；''　said　Presbury。　　He　laughed。　‘‘And　I　guess　you'd　hear　some　pretty　dreadful　things。　When　I　knew　him　twenty…five　years　ago　he　had　just　been　arrested　for　forging　my　father's　name　to　a　check。　But　he　got　out　of　thatand　it's　all　past　and　gone。　Probably　he　hasn't　committed　any　worse　crimes　than　have　most　of　our　big　rich　men。　　Bill's　handicap　has　been　that　he　hadn't　much　education　or　any　swell　relatives。　　But　he's　a　genius　at　money…making。''　Presbury　looked　at　Mildred　with　a　grin。　　‘‘And　he's　just　the　husband　for　Mildred。　　She　can't　afford　to　be　too　particular。　　Somebody's　got　to　support　her。　　_I_　can't　and　won't；　and　she　can't　support　herself。''

‘‘You'll　gowon't　you；　Mildred？''　said　her　mother。　‘‘He　may　not　be　so　bad。''

‘‘Yes；　I'll　go；''　said　Mildred。　　Her　gaze　was　upon　the　untouched　food　on　her　plate。

‘‘Of　course　she'll　go；''　said　Presbury。　　‘‘And　she'll　marry　him　if　she　can。　　Won't　you；　miss？''

He　spoke　in　his　amiably　insulting　wayas　distinguished　from　the　way　of　savagely　sneering　insult　he　usually　took　with　her。　　He　expected　no　reply。　　She　surprised　him。　　She　lifted　her　tragic　eyes　and　looked　fixedly　at　him。　　She　said：

‘‘Yes；　I'll　go。　　And　I'll　marry　him　if　I　can。''

‘‘I　told　him　he　could　have　you；''　said　Presbury。　　‘‘I　explained　to　him　that　you　were　a　rare　specimen　of　the　perfect　ladyjust　what　he　wantedand　that　you；　and　all　your　family；　would　be　grateful　to　anybody　who　would　undertake　your　support。''

Mrs。　Presbury　flushed　angrily。　　‘‘You've　made　it　perfectly　useless　for　her　to　go！''　she　cried。

‘‘Calm　yourself；　my　love；''　said　her　husband。　　‘‘I　know　Bill　Siddall　thoroughly。　　I　said　what　would　help。　I　want　to　get　rid　of　her　as　much　as　you　doand　that's　saying　a　great　deal。''

Mrs。　Presbury　flamed　with　the　wrath　of　those　who　are　justly　accused。　　‘‘If　Mildred　left；　I　should　go；　too；''　cried　she。

‘‘Go　where？''　inquired　her　husband。　　‘‘To　the　poorhouse？''

By　persistent　rubbing　in　Presbury　had　succeeded　in　making　the　truth　about　her　poverty　and　dependence　clear　to　his　wife。　　She　continued　to　frown　and　to　look　unutterable　contempt；　but　he　had　silenced　her。　He　noted　this　with　a　sort　of　satisfaction　and　went　on：

‘‘If　Bill　Siddall　takes　her；　you　certainly　won't　go　there。　　He　wouldn't　have　you。　　He　feels　strongly　on　the　subject　of　mothers…in…law。''

‘‘Has　he　been　married　before？''　asked　Mrs。　Presbury。

‘‘Twice；''　replied　her　husband。　　‘‘His　first　wife　died。　He　divorced　the　second　for　unfaithf