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the patrician-第24部分
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healthily eating; her eyes stole round at Courtier。 This quick look
seemed to Lord Dennis perturbed; as if something were exciting her。
Then Harbinger spoke; and she turned to answer him。 Her face was
calm now; faintly smiling; a little eager; provocative in its joy of
life。 It made Lord Dennis think of his own youth。 What a splendid
couple! If Babs married young Harbinger there would not be a finer
pair in all England。 His eyes travelled back to Courtier。 Manly
enough! They called him dangerous! There was a look of
effervescence; carefully corked downmight perhaps be attractive to
a girl! To his essentially practical and sober mind; a type like
Courtier was puzzling。 He liked the look of him; but distrusted his
ironic expression; and that appearance of blood to the head。 Fellow
no doubtthat would ride off on his ideas; humanitarian! To Lord
Dennis there was something queer about humanitarians。 They offended
perhaps his dry and precise sense of form。 They were always looking
out for cruelty or injustice; seemed delighted when they found it
swelled up; as it were; when they scented it; and as there was a good
deal about; were never quite of normal size。 Men who lived for ideas
were; in fact; to one for whom facts sufficed always a little
worrying! A movement from Barbara brought him back to actuality。
Was the possessor of that crown of hair and those divine young
shoulders the little Babs who had ridden with him in the Row? Time
was certainly the Devil! Her eyes were searching for something; and
following the direction of that glance; Lord Dennis found himself
observing Miltoun。 What a difference between those two! Both no
doubt in the great trouble of youth; which sometimes; as he knew too
well; lasted on almost to old age。 It was a curious look the child
was giving her brother; as if asking him to help her。 Lord Dennis
had seen in his day many young creatures leave the shelter of their
freedom and enter the house of the great lottery; many; who had drawn
a prize and thereat lost forever the coldness of life; many too; the
light of whose eyes had faded behind the shutters of that house;
having drawn a blank。 The thought of 'little' Babs on the threshold
of that inexorable saloon; filled him with an eager sadness; and the
sight of the two men watching for her; waiting for her; like hunters;
was to him distasteful。 In any case; let her not; for Heaven's sake;
go ranging as far as that red fellow of middle age; who might have
ideas; but had no pedigree; let her stick to youth and her own order;
and marry theyoung man; confound him; who looked like a Greek god;
of the wrong period; having grown a moustache。 He remembered her
words the other evening about these two and the different lives they
lived。 Some romantic notion or other was working in her! And again
he looked at Courtier。 A Quixotic typethe sort that rode slap…bang
at everything! All very wellbut not for Babs! She was not like
the glorious Garibaldi's glorious Anita! It was truly characteristic
of Lord Dennisand indeed of other peoplethat to him champions of
Liberty when dead were far dearer than champions of Liberty when
living。 Yes; Babs would want more; or was it less; than just a life
of sleeping under the stars for the man she loved; and the cause he
fought for。 She would want pleasure; and; not too much effort; and
presently a little power; not the uncomfortable after…fame of a woman
who went through fire; but the fame and power of beauty; and Society
prestige。 This; fancy of hers; if it were a fancy; could be nothing
but the romanticism of a young girl。 For the sake of a passing
shadow; to give up substance? It wouldn't do!。 And again Lord
Dennis fixed his shrewd glance on his great…niece。 Those eyes; that
smile! Yes! She would grow out of this。 And take the Greek god;
the dying Gaulwhichever that young man was!
CHAPTER XXI
It was not till the morning of polling day itself that Courtier left
Monkland Court。 He had already suffered for some time from bad
conscience。 For his knee was practically cured; and he knew well
that it was Barbara; and Barbara alone; who kept him staying there。
The atmosphere of that big house with its army of servants; the
impossibility of doing anything for himself; and the feeling of
hopeless insulation from the vivid and necessitous sides of life;
galled him greatly。 He felt a very genuine pity for these people who
seemed to lead an existence as it were smothered under their own
social importance。 It was not their fault。 He recognized that they
did their best。 They were good specimens of their kind; neither soft
nor luxurious; as things went in a degenerate and extravagant age;
they evidently tried to be simpleand this seemed to him to heighten
the pathos of their situation。 Fate had been too much for them。
What human spirit could emerge untrammelled and unshrunken from that
great encompassing host of material advantage? To a Bedouin like
Courtier; it was as though a subtle; but very terrible tragedy was
all the time being played before his eyes; and in; the very centre of
this tragedy was the girl who so greatly attracted him。 Every night
when he retired to that lofty room; which smelt so good; and where;
without ostentation; everything was so perfectly ordered for his
comfort; he thought:
〃My God; to…morrow I'll be off!〃
But every morning when he met her at breakfast his thought was
precisely the same; and there were moments when he caught himself
wondering: 〃Am I falling under the spell of this existenceam I
getting soft?〃 He recognized as never before that the peculiar
artificial 'hardness' of the patrician was a brine or pickle; in
which; with the instinct of self…preservation they deliberately
soaked themselves; to prevent the decay of their overprotected fibre。
He perceived it even in Barbaraa sort of sentiment…proof overall; a
species of mistrust of the emotional or lyrical; a kind of contempt
of sympathy and feeling。 And every day he was more and more tempted
to lay rude hands on this garment; to see whether he could not make
her catch fire; and flare up with some emotion or idea。 In spite of
her tantalizing; youthful self…possession; he saw that she felt this
longing in him; and now and then he caught a glimpse of a streak of
recklessness in her which lured him on:
And yet; when at last he was saying good…bye on the night before
polling day; he could not flatter himself that he had really struck
any spark from her。 Certainly she gave him no chance; at that final
interview; but stood amongst the other women; calm and smiling; as if
determined that he should not again mock her with his ironical
devotion。
He got up very early the next morning; intending to pass away unseen。
In the car put at his disposal; he found a small figure in a holland…
frock; leaning back against the cushions so that some sandalled toes
pointed up at the chauffeur's back。 They belonged to little Ann; who
in the course of business had discovered the vehicle before the door。
Her sudden little voice under her sudden little nose; friendly but
not too friendly; was comforting to Courtier。
〃Are you going? I can come as; far as the gate。〃 〃That is lucky。〃
〃Yes。 Is that all your luggage?〃
〃I'm afraid it is。〃
〃Oh! It's quite a lot; really; isn't it?〃
〃As much as I deserve。〃
〃Of course you don't have to take guinea…pigs about with you?〃
〃Not as a rule。〃
〃I always do。 There's great…Granny!〃
There certainly was Lady Casterley; standing a little back from the
drive; and directing a tall gardener how to deal with an old oak…
tree。 Courtier alighted; and went towards her to say good…bye。 She
greeted him with a certain grim cordiality。
〃So you are going! I am glad of that; though you quite understand
that I like you personally。〃
〃Quite!〃
Her eyes gleamed maliciously。
〃Men who laugh like you are dangerous; as I've told you before!〃
Then; with great gravity; she added
〃My granddaughter will marry Lord Harbinger。 I mention that; Mr。
Courtier; for your peace of mind。 You are a man of honour; it will
go no further。〃
Courtier; bowing over her hand; answered:
〃He will be lucky。〃
The little old lady regarded him unflinchingly。
〃He will; sir。 Good…bye!〃
Courtier smilingly raised his hat。 His cheeks were burning。
Regaining the car; he looked round。 Lady Casterley was busy once
more exhorting the tall gardener。 The voice of little Ann broke in
on his thoughts:
〃I hope you'll come again。 Because I expect I shall be here at
Christmas; and my brothers will be here then; that is; Jock and
Tiddy; not Christopher because he's young。 I must go now。 Good…bye!
Hallo; Susie!〃
Courtier saw her slide away; and join the little pale adoring figure
of the lodge…keeper's daughter。
The car passed out into the lane。
If Lady Casterley had planned this disclosure; which indeed she had
not; for the impulse had only come over her at the sound of
Courtier's laugh; she could not have; devised one more effectual; for
there was deep down in him all a wanderer's very real distrust;;
amounting almost to contempt; of people so settled and done for; as
aristocrats or bourgeois; and all a man of action's horror of what he
called puking and muling。 The pursuit of Barbara with any other
object but that of marriage had naturally not occurred to one who had
little sense of conventional morality; but much self…respect; and a
secret endeavour to cut out Harbinger; ending in a marriage whereat
he would figure as a sort of pirate; was quite as little to the taste
of a man not unaccustomed to think himself as good as other people。
He caused the car to deviate up the lane that led to Audrey Noel's;
hating to go away without a hail of cheer to that ship in distress。
She came out to him on the verandah。 From the clasp of her hand;
thin and faintly brownedthe hand of a woman never quite idlehe
felt that she relied on him to understand and sympathize; and nothing
so awakened the best in Courtier as such mute appeals to his
protection。 He said gently:
〃Don't let them think you're down;〃 and; squeezing her hand hard:
〃Why should you be wa
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