some short stories-第16部分

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rare　as　some　fine　old　print　with　the　best　bits　down　in　the　corners。
Old　books　and　old　pictures；　allusions　remembered　and　aspects
conjectured；　reappeared　to　him；　he　knew　not　what　anxious　islanders
had　been　trying　for　in　their　backward　hunt　for　the　homely。　　But　the
homely　at　Flickerbridge　was　all　style；　even　as　style　at　the　same
time　was　mere　honesty。　　The　larger；　the　smaller　pasthe　scarce
knew　which　to　call　itwas　at　all　events　so　hushed　to　sleep　round
him　as　he　wrote　that　he　had　almost　a　bad　conscience　about　having
come。　　How　one　might　love　it；　but　how　one　might　spoil　it！　　To　look
at　it　too　hard　was　positively　to　make　it　conscious；　and　to　make　it
conscious　was　positively　to　wake　it　up。　　Its　only　safety；　of　a
truth；　was　to　be　left　still　to　sleepto　sleep　in　its　large　fair
chambers　and　under　its　high　clean　canopies。

He　added　thus　restlessly　a　line　to　his　letter；　maundered　round　the
room　again；　noted　and　fingered　something　else；　and　then；　dropping
on　the　old　flowered　sofa；　sustained　by　the　tight　cubes　of　its
cushions；　yielded　afresh　to　the　cigarette；　hesitated；　stared；　wrote
a　few　words　more。　　He　wanted　Addie　to　know；　that　was　what　he　most
felt；　unless　he　perhaps　felt；　more　how　much　she　herself　would　want
to。　　Yes；　what　he　supremely　saw　was　all　that　Addie　would　make　of
it。　　Up　to　his　neck　in　it　there　he　fairly　turned　cold　at　the　sense
of　suppressed　opportunity；　of　the　outrage　of　privation　that　his
correspondent　would　retrospectively　and；　as　he　even　divined　with　a
vague　shudder；　almost　vindictively　nurse。　　Well；　what　had　happened
was　that　the　acquaintance　had　been　kept　for　her；　like　a　packet
enveloped　and　sealed　for　delivery；　till　her　attention　was　free。　　He
saw　her　there；　heard　her　and　felt　herfelt　how　she　would　feel　and
how　she　would；　as　she　usually　said；　〃rave。〃　　Some　of　her　young
compatriots　called　it　〃yell；〃　and　in　the　reference　itself；　alas！
illustrated　their　meaning。　　She　would　understand　the　place　at　any
rate；　down　to　the　ground；　there　wasn't　the　slightest　doubt　of　that。
Her　sense　of　it　would　be　exactly　like　his　own；　and　he　could　see；　in
anticipation；　just　the　terms　of　recognition　and　rapture　in　which
she　would　abound。　　He　knew　just　what　she　would　call　quaint；　just
what　she　would　call　bland；　just　what　she　would　call　weird；　just
what　she　would　call　wild。　　She　would　take　it　all　in　with　an
intelligence　much　more　fitted　than　his　own；　in　fact；　to　deal　with
what　he　supposed　he　must　regard　as　its　literary　relations。　　She
would　have　read　the　long…winded　obsolete　memoirs　and　novels　that
both　the　figures　and　the　setting　ought　clearly　to　remind　one　of；
she　would　know　about　the　past　generationsthe　lumbering　country
magnates　and　their　turbaned　wives　and　round…eyed　daughters；　who；　in
other　days；　had　treated　the　ruddy　sturdy　tradeless　town；the　solid
square　houses　and　wide　walled　gardens；　the　streets　to…day　all　grass
and　gossip；　as　the　scene　of　a　local　〃season。〃　　She　would　have
warrant　for　the　assemblies；　dinners；　deep　potations；　for　the　smoked
sconces　in　the　dusky　parlours；　for　the　long　muddy　century　of　family
coaches；　〃holsters；〃　highwaymen。　　She　would　put　a　finger　in　short；
just　as　he　had　done；　on　the　vital　spotthe　rich　humility　of　the
whole　thing；　the　fact　that　neither　Flickerbridge　in　general　nor
Miss　Wenham　in　particular；　nor　anything　nor　any　one　concerned；　had
a　suspicion　of　their　characters　and　their　merit。　　Addie　and　he
would　have　to　come　to　let　in　light。

He　let　it　in　then；　little　by　little；　before　going　to　bed；　through
the　eight　or　ten　pages　he　addressed　to　her；　assured　her　that　it　was
the　happiest　case　in　the　world；　a　little　pictureyet　full　of
〃style〃　tooabsolutely　composed　and　transmitted；　with　tradition；
and　tradition　only；　in　every　stroke；　tradition　still　noiselessly
breathing　and　visibly　flushing；　marking　strange　hours　in　the　tall
mahogany　clocks　that　were　never　wound　up　and　that　yet　audibly
ticked　on。　　All　the　elements；　he　was　sure　he　should　see；　would　hang
together　with　a　charm；　presenting　his　hostessa　strange　iridescent
fish　for　the　glazed　exposure　of　an　aquariumas　afloat　in　her
native　medium。　　He　left　his　letter　open　on　the　table；　but；　looking
it　over　next　morning；　felt　of　a　sudden　indisposed　to　send　it。　　He
would　keep　it　to　add　more；　for　there　would　be　more　to　know；　yet
when　three　days　had　elapsed　he　still　had　not　sent　it。　　He　sent
instead；　after　delay；　a　much　briefer　report；　which　he　was　moved　to
make　different　and；　for　some　reason；　less　vivid。　　Meanwhile　he
learned　from　Miss　Wenham　how　Addie　had　introduced　him。　　It　took
time　to　arrive　with　her　at　that　point；　but　after　the　Rubicon　was
crossed　they　went　far　afield。



CHAPTER　IV



〃Oh　yes；　she　said　you　were　engaged　to　her。　　That　was　whysince　I
HAD　broken　outshe　thought　I　might　like　to　see　you；　as　I　assure
you　I've　been　so　delighted　to。　　But　AREN'T　you？〃　the　good　lady
asked　as　if　she　saw　in　his　face　some　ground　for　doubt。

〃Assuredlyif　she　says　so。　　It　may　seem　very　odd　to　you；　but　I
haven't　known；　and　yet　I've　felt　that；　being　nothing　whatever　to
you　directly；　I　need　some　warrant　for　consenting　thus　to　be　thrust
on　you。　　We　WERE；〃　the　young　man　explained；　〃engaged　a　year　ago；
but　since　then　（if　you　don't　mind　my　telling　you　such　things；　I
feel　now　as　if　I　could　tell　you　anything！）　I　haven't　quite　known
how　I　stand。　　It　hasn't　seemed　we　were　in　a　position　to　marry。
Things　are　better　now；　but　I　haven't　quite　known　how　she'd　see
them。　　They　were　so　bad　six　months　ago　that　I　understood　her；　I
thought；　as　breaking　off。　　I　haven't　broken；　I've　only　accepted；
for　the　timebecause　men　must　be　easy　with　womenbeing　treated　as
'the　best　of　friends。'　　Well；　I　try　to　be。　　I　wouldn't　have　come
here　if　I　hadn't　been。　　I　thought　it　would　be　charming　for　her　to
know　youwhen　I　heard　from　her　the　extraordinary　way　you　had
dawned　upon　her；　and　charming　therefore　if　I　could　help　her　to　it。
And　if　I'm　helping　you　to　know　HER；〃　he　went　on；　〃isn't　that
charming　too？〃

〃Oh　I　so　want　to！〃　Miss　Wenham　murmured　in　her　unpractical
impersonal　way。　　〃You're　so　different！〃　she　wistfully　declared。

〃It's　YOU；　if　I　may　respectfully；　ecstatically　say　so；　who　are
different。　　That's　the　point　of　it　all。　　I'm　not　sure　that　anything
so　terrible　really　ought　to　happen　to　you　as　to　know　us。〃

〃Well；〃　said　Miss　Wenham；　〃I　do　know　you　a　little　by　this　time；
don't　I？　　And　I　don't　find　it　terrible。　　It's　a　delightful　change
for　me。〃

〃Oh　I'm　not　sure　you　ought　to　have　a　delightful　change！〃

〃Why　notif　you　do？〃

〃Ah　I　can　bear　it。　　I'm　not　sure　you　can。　　I'm　too　bad　to　spoilI
AM　spoiled。　　I'm　nobody；　in　short；　I'm　nothing。　　I've　no　type。
You're　ALL　type。　　It　has　taken　delicious　long　years　of　security　and
monotony　to　produce　you。　　You　fit　your　frame　with　a　perfection　only
equalled　by　the　perfection　with　which　your　frame　fits　you。　　So　this
admirable　old　house；　all　time…softened　white　within　and　time…faded
red　without；　so　everything　that　surrounds　you　here　and　that　has；　by
some　extraordinary　mercy；　escaped　the　inevitable　fate　of
exploitation：　　so　it　all；　I　say；　is　the　sort　of　thing　that；　were　it
the　least　bit　to　fall　to　pieces；　could　never；　ah　never　more　be　put
together　again。　　I　have；　dear　Miss　Wenham；〃　Granger　went　on；　happy
himself　in　his　extravagance；　which　was　yet　all　sincere；　and　happier
still　in　her　deep　but　altogether　pleased　mystification〃I've
found；　do　you　know；　just　the　thing　one　has　ever　heard　of　that　you
most　resemble。　　You're　the　Sleeping　Beauty　in　the　Wood。〃

He　still　had　no　compunction　when　he　heard　her　bewilderedly　sigh：
〃Oh　you're　too　delightfully　droll！〃

〃No；　I　only　put　thing's　just　as　they　are；　and　as　I've　also　learned
a　little；　thank　heaven；　to　see　themwhich　isn't；　I　quite　agree
with　you；　at　all　what　any　one　does。　　You're　in　the　deep　doze　of　the
spell　that　has　held　you　for　long　years；　and　it　would　be　a　shame；　a
crime；　to　wake　you　up。　　Indeed　I　already　feel　with　a　thousand
scruples　that　I'm　giving　you　the　fatal　shake。　　I　say　it　even　though
it　makes　me　sound　a　little　as　if　I　thought　myself　the　fairy
prince。〃

She　gazed　at　him　with　her　queerest　kindest　look；　which　he　was
getting　used　to　in　spite　of　a　faint　fear；　at　the　back　of　his　head；
of　the　strange　things　that　sometimes　occurred　when　lonely　ladies；
however　mature；　began　to　look　at　interesting　young　men　from　over
the　seas　as　if　the　young　men　desired　to　flirt。　　〃It's　so
wonderful；〃　she　said；　〃that　you　should　be　so　very　odd　and　yet　so
very　good…natured。〃　　Well；　it　all　came　to　the　same　thingit　was　so
wonderful　that　SHE　should　be　so　simple　and　yet　so　little　of　a　bore。
He　accepted　with　gratitude　the　theory　of　his　languorwhich
moreover　was　real　enough　and　partly　perhaps　why　he　was　so
sensitive；　he　let　himself　go　as　a　convalescent；　let　her　insist　on
the　weakness　always　left　by　fever。　　It　helped　him　to　gain　time；　to
preserve　the　spell　even　while　he　talked　of　breaking　it；　saw　him
through　slow　strolls　and　soft　sessions；　long　gossips；　fitful
hopeless　questionsthere　was　so　much　more　to　tell　than；　by　any
contortion；　she　COULDand　explanations　addressed　gallantly　and
patiently　to　her　understanding；　but　not；　by　good　fortune；　really
reaching　it。　　They　were　perfectly　at　cross…purposes；　and　it　was　the
better；　and　they　wandered　together　in　the　silver　haze　with　all
communication　blurred。

When　they　sat　in　the　sun　in　her　formal　garden　he　quite　knew　how
little　even　the　tenderest　consideration　failed　to　disguise　his
treating　her　as　the　most　exquisite　of　curiosities。　　The　term　of
comparison　most　present　to　him　was　that　of　some　obsolete　musical
instrument。　　The　old…time　order　of　her　mind　and　her　air　had　the
stillness　of　a　painted　spinnet　that　was　duly　dusted；　gently　rubbed；
but　never　tuned　nor　played　on。　　Her　opinions　were　like　dried　rose…
leaves；　her　attitudes　like　British　sculpture；　her　voice　what　he
imagined　of　the　possible　tone　of　the　old　gilded　silver…stringed
harp　in　one　of　the　corners　of　the　drawing…room。　　The　lonely　little
decencies　and　modest　dignities　of　her　life；　the　fine　grain　of　its
conservatism；　the　innocence　of　its　ignorance；　all　its　monotony　of
stupidity　and　salubrity；　its　cold　dulness　and　dim　brightness；　were
there　before　him。　　Meanwhile　within　him　strange　things　took　place。
It　was　literally