the white people-第6部分

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〃It　was　the　far　look　in　your　face　I　watched；〃　he　said。　　〃If　you　will　come　to　tea　under　the　big　apple…tree　I　will　tell　you　more　about　it。〃

〃Indeed　I　will　come；〃　I　answered。　　〃Now　we　must　go　and　sit　among　the　other　people　those　who　don't　care　about　Muircarrie　at　all。〃



CHAPTER　V

I　went　to　tea　under　the　big　apple…tree。　　It　was　very　big　and　old　and　wonderful。　　No　wonder　Mr。　MacNairn　and　his　mother　loved　it。　　Its　great　branches　spread　out　farther　than　I　had　ever　seen　the　branches　of　an　apple…tree　spread　before。　　They　were　gnarled　and　knotted　and　beautiful　with　age。　　Their　shadows　upon　the　grass　were　velvet；　deep　and　soft。　　Such　a　tree　could　only　have　lived　its　life　in　such　a　garden。　　At　least　it　seemed　so　to　me。　　The　high；　dim…colored　walls；　with　their　curious；　low　corner　towers　and　the　leafage　of　the　wall　fruits　spread　against　their　brick；　inclosed　it　embracingly；　as　if　they　were　there　to　take　care　of　it　and　its　beauty。　　But　the　tree　itself　seemed　to　have　grown　there　in　all　its　dignified　loveliness　of　shadow　to　take　care　of　Mrs。　MacNairn；　who　sat　under　it。　　I　felt　as　if　it　loved　and　was　proud　of　her。

I　have　heard　clever　literary　people　speak　of　Mrs。　MacNairn　as　a　〃survival　of　type。〃　　Sometimes　clever　people　bewilder　me　by　the　terms　they　use；　but　I　thought　I　understood　what　they　meant　in　her　case。　　She　was　quite　unlike　the　modern　elderly　woman；　and　yet　she　was　not　in　the　least　old…fashioned　or　demodee。　　She　was　only　exquisitely　distinct。

When　she　rose　from　her　chair　under　the　apple…tree　boughs　and　came　forward　to　meet　me　that　afternoon；　the　first　things　which　struck　me　were　her　height　and　slenderness　and　her　light　step。　　Then　I　saw　that　her　clear　profile　seemed　cut　out　of　ivory　and　that　her　head　was　a　beautiful　shape　and　was　beautifully　set。　　Its　every　turn　and　movement　was　exquisite。　　The　mere　fact　that　both　her　long；　ivory　hands　enfolded　mine　thrilled　me。　　I　wondered　if　it　were　possible　that　she　could　be　unaware　of　her　loveliness。　　Beautiful　people　are　thrilling　to　me；　and　Mrs。　MacNairn　has　always　seemed　more　so　than　any　one　else。　　This　is　what　her　son　once　said　of　her：

〃She　is　not　merely　beautiful；　she　is　Beauty　Beauty's　very　spirit　moving　about　among　us　mortals；　pure　Beauty。〃

She　drew　me　to　a　chair　under　her　tree；　and　we　sat　down　together。　　I　felt　as　if　she　were　glad　that　I　had　come。　　The　watching　look　I　had　seen　in　her　son's　eyes　was　in　hers　also。　　They　watched　me　as　we　talked；　and　I　found　myself　telling　her　about　my　home　as　I　had　found　myself　telling　him。　　He　had　evidently　talked　to　her　about　it　himself。　　I　had　never　met　any　one　who　thought　of　Muircarrie　as　I　did；　but　it　seemed　as　if　they　who　were　strangers　were　drawn　by　its　wild；　beautiful　loneliness　as　I　was。

I　was　happy。　　In　my　secret　heart　I　began　to　ask　myself　if　it　could　be　true　that　they　made　me　feel　a　little　as　if　I　somehow　belonged　to　some　one。　　I　had　always　seemed　so　detached　from　every　one。　　I　had　not　been　miserable　about　it；　and　I　had　not　complained　to　myself；　I　only　accepted　the　detachment　as　part　of　my　kind　of　life。

Mr。　MacNairn　came　into　the　garden　later　and　several　other　people　came　in　to　tea。　　It　was　apparently　a　sort　of　daily　customthat　people　who　evidently　adored　Mrs。　MacNairn　dropped　in　to　see　and　talk　to　her　every　afternoon。　　She　talked　wonderfully；　and　her　friends'　joy　in　her　was　wonderful；　too。　　It　evidently　made　people　happy　to　be　near　her。　　All　she　said　and　did　was　like　her　light　step　and　the　movements　of　her　delicate；　fine　headgracious　and　soft　and　arrestingly　lovely。　　She　did　not　let　me　drift　away　and　sit　in　a　corner　looking　on；　as　I　usually　did　among　strangers。　　She　kept　me　near　her；　and　in　some　subtle；　gentle　way　made　me　a　part　of　all　that　was　happeningthe　talk；　the　charming　circle　under　the　spreading　boughs　of　the　apple…tree；　the　charm　of　everything。　　Sometimes　she　would　put　out　her　exquisite；　long…　fingered　hand　and　touch　me　very　lightly；　and　each　time　she　did　it　I　felt　as　if　she　had　given　me　new　life。

There　was　an　interesting　elderly　man　who　came　among　the　rest　of　the　guests。　　I　was　interested　in　him　even　before　she　spoke　to　me　of　him。　　He　had　a　handsome；　aquiline　face　which　looked　very　clever。　　His　talk　was　brilliantly　witty。　　When　he　spoke　people　paused　as　if　they　could　not　bear　to　lose　a　phrase　or　even　a　word。　　But　in　the　midst　of　the　trills　of　laughter　surrounding　him　his　eyes　were　unchangingly　sad。　　His　face　laughed　or　smiled；　but　his　eyes　never。

〃He　is　the　greatest　artist　in　England　and　the　most　brilliant　man；〃　Mrs。　MacNairn　said　to　me；　quietly。　　〃But　he　is　the　saddest；　too。　　He　had　a　lovely　daughter　who　was　killed　instantly；　in　his　presence；　by　a　fall。　　They　had　been　inseparable　companions　and　she　was　the　delight　of　his　life。　　That　strange；　fixed　look　has　been　in　his　eyes　ever　since。　　I　know　you　have　noticed　it。〃

We　were　walking　about　among　the　flower…　beds　after　tea；　and　Mr。　MacNairn　was　showing　me　a　cloud　of　blue　larkspurs　in　a　corner　when　I　saw　something　which　made　me　turn　toward　him　rather　quickly。

〃There　is　one！〃　I　said。　　〃Do　look　at　her！　　Now　you　see　what　I　mean！　　The　girl　standing　with　her　hand　on　Mr。　Le　Breton's　arm。〃

Mr。　Le　Breton　was　the　brilliant　man　with　the　sad　eyes。　　He　was　standing　looking　at　a　mass　of　white…and…purple　iris　at　the　other　side　of　the　garden。　　There　were　two　or　three　people　with　him；　but　it　seemed　as　if　for　a　moment　he　had　forgotten　themhad　forgotten　where　he　was。　　I　wondered　suddenly　if　his　daughter　had　been　fond　of　irises。　　He　was　looking　at　them　with　such　a　tender；　lost　expression。　　The　girl；　who　was　a　lovely；　fair　thing；　was　standing　quite　close　to　him　with　her　hand　in　his　arm；　and　she　was　smiling；　toosuch　a　smile！

〃Mr。　Le　Breton！〃　Mr。　MacNairn　said　in　a　rather　startled　tone。　　〃The　girl　with　her　hand　in　his　arm？〃

〃Yes。　　You　see　how　fair　she　is；〃　I　answered。

〃And　she　has　that　transparent　look。　　It　is　so　lovely。　　Don't　you　think　so？　　SHE　is　one　of　the　White　People。〃

He　stood　very　still；　looking　across　the　flowers　at　the　group。　　There　was　a　singular　interest　and　intensity　in　his　expression。　　He　watched　the　pair　silently　for　a　whole　minute；　I　think。

〃Ye…es；〃　he　said；　slowly；　at　last；　〃I　do　see　what　you　meanand　it　IS　lovely。　　I　don't　seem　to　know　her　well。　　She　must　be　a　new　friend　of　my　mother's。　　So　she　is　one　of　the　White　People？〃

〃She　looks　like　a　white　iris　herself；　doesn't　she？〃　I　said。　　〃Now　you　know。〃

〃Yes；　now　I　know；〃　he　answered。

I　asked　Mrs。　MacNairn　later　who　the　girl　was；　but　she　didn't　seem　to　recognize　my　description　of　her。　　Mr。　Le　Breton　had　gone　away　by　that　time；　and　so　had　the　girl　herself。

〃The　tall；　very　fair　one　in　the　misty；　pale…　gray　dress；〃　I　said。　　〃She　was　near　Mr。　Le　Breton　when　he　was　looking　at　the　iris…bed。　　You　were　cutting　some　roses　only　a　few　yards　away　from　her。　　That　VERY　fair　girl？〃

Mrs。　MacNairn　paused　a　moment　and　looked　puzzled。

〃Mildred　Keith　is　fair；〃　she　reflected；　〃but　she　was　not　there　then。　　I　don't　recall　seeing　a　girl。　　I　was　cutting　some　buds　for　Mrs。　Anstruther。　　I〃　　She　paused　again　and　turned　toward　her　son；　who　was　standing　watching　us。　　I　saw　their　eyes　meet　in　a　rather　arrested　way。

〃It　was　not　Mildred　Keith；〃　he　said。　　〃Miss　Muircarrie　is　inquiring　because　this　girl　was　one　of　those　she　calls　the　White　People。　　She　was　not　any　one　I　had　seen　here　before。〃

There　was　a　second's　silence　before　Mrs。　MacNairn　smilingly　gave　me　one　of　her　light；　thrilling　touches　on　my　arm。

〃Ah！　　I　remember；〃　she　said。　　〃Hector　told　me　about　the　White　People。　　He　rather　fancied　I　might　be　one。〃

I　am　afraid　I　rather　stared　at　her　as　I　slowly　shook　my　head。　　You　see　she　was　almost　one；　but　not　quite。

〃I　was　so　busy　with　my　roses　that　I　did　not　notice　who　was　standing　near　Mr。　Le　Breton；〃　she　said。　　〃Perhaps　it　was　Anabel　Mere。　　She　is　a　more　transparent　sort　of　girl　than　Mildred；　and　she　is　more　blond。　　And　you　don't　know　her；　Hector？　　I　dare　say　it　was　she。〃



CHAPTER　VI

I　remained　in　London　several　weeks。　　I　stayed　because　the　MacNairns　were　so　good　to　me。　　I　could　not　have　told　any　one　how　I　loved　Mrs。　MacNairn；　and　how　different　everything　seemed　when　I　was　with　her。　　I　was　never　shy　when　we　were　together。　　There　seemed　to　be　no　such　thing　as　shyness　in　the　world。　　I　was　not　shy　with　Mr。　MacNairn；　either。　　After　I　had　sat　under　the　big　apple…tree　boughs　in　the　walled　garden　a　few　times　I　realized　that　I　had　begun　to　belong　to　somebody。　　Those　two　marvelous　people　cared　for　me　in　that　way　in　a　way　that　made　me　feel　as　if　I　were　a　real　girl；　not　merely　a　queer　little　awkward　ghost　in　a　far…away　castle　which　nobody　wanted　to　visit　because　it　was　so　dull　and　desolate　and　far　from　London。　　They　were　so　clever；　and　knew　all　the　interesting　things　in　the　world；　but　their　cleverness　and　experience　never　bewildered　or　overwhelmed　me。

〃You　were　born　a　wonderful　little　creature；　and　Angus　Macayre　has　filled　your　mind　with　strange；　rich　furnishings　and　marvelous　color　and　form；〃　Mrs。　MacNairn　actually　said　to　me　one　day　when　we　were　sitting　together　and　she　was　holding　my　hand　and　softly；　slowly　patting　it。　　She　had　a　way　of　doing　that；　and　she　had　also　a　way　of　keeping　me　very　near　her　whenever　she　could。　　She　said　once　that　she　liked　to　touch　me　now　and　then　to　make　sure　that　I　was　quite　real　and　would　not　melt　away。　　I　did　not　know　then　why　she　said　it；　but　I　understood　afterward。

Sometimes　we　sat　under　the　apple…tree　until　the　long　twilight　deepened　into　shadow；　which　closed　round　us；　and　a　nightingale　that　lived　in　the　garden　began　to　sing。　　We　all　three　loved　the　nightingale；　and　felt　as　though　it　knew　that　we　were　listening　to　it。　　It　is　a　wonderful　thing　to　sit　quite　still　listening　to　a　bird　singing　in　the　dark；　and　to　dare　to　feel　that　while　it　sings　it　knows　how　your　soul　adores　it。　　It　is　like　a　kind　of　worship。

We　had　been　sitting　listening　for　quite　a　long　time；　and　the　nightingale　had　just　ceased　and　left　the　darkness　an　exquisite　silence　which　fell　suddenly　but　softly　as　the　last　note　dropped；　when　Mrs。　MacNairn　began　to　talk　for　the　first　time　of　what　she　called　The　Fear。

I　don't　remember　just　how　she　began；　and　for　a　few　minutes　I　did　not　quite　understand　what　she　meant。　　But　as　she　went　on；　and　Mr。　MacNairn　joined　in　the　talk；　their　meaning　became　a　clear　thing　to　me；