the patrician-第28部分

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listening　to　speeches　whose　sense　she　was　too　languid　and　preoccupied
to　take　in；　the　whole　medley　of　thoughts；　and　faces　round　her；　and
the　sound　of　the　speakers'　voices；　formed　a　kind　of　nightmare；　out　of
which　she　noted　with　extreme　exactitude　the　colour　of　her　mother's
neck　beneath　a　large　black　hat；　and　the　expression　on　the　face　of　a
Committee　man　to　the　right；　who　was　biting　his　fingers　under　cover　of
a　blue　paper。　　She　realized　that　someone　was　speaking　amongst　the
audience；　casting　forth；　as　it　were；　small　bunches　of　words。　　She
could　see　hima　little　man　in　a　black　coat；　with　a　white　face　which
kept　jerking　up　and　down。

〃I　feel　that　this　is　terrible；〃　she　heard　him　say；　〃I　feel　that　this
is　blasphemy。　　That　we　should　try　to　tamper　with　the　greatest　force；
the　greatest　and　the　most　sacred　and　secret…force；　thatthat　moves
in　the　world；　is　to　me　horrible。　　I　cannot　bear　to　listen；　it　seems
to　make　everything　so　small！〃　　She　saw　him　sit　down；　and　her　mother
rising　to　answer。

〃We　must　all　sympathize　with　the　sincerity　and　to　a　certain　extent
with　the　intention　of　our　friend　in　the　body　of　the　hall。　　But　we
must　ask　ourselves：

Have　we　the　right　to　allow　ourselves　the　luxury；　of　private　feelings
in　a　matter　which　concerns　the　national　expansion。　　We　must　not　give
way　to　sentiment。　　Our　friend　in　the　body　of　the　hall　spokehe　will
forgive　me　for　saying　solike　a　poet；　rather　than　a　serious
reformer。　　I　am　afraid　that　if　we　let　ourselves　drop　into　poetry；　the
birth　rate　of　this　country　will　very　soon　drop　into　poetry　too。　　And
that　I　think　it　is　impossible　for　us　to　contemplate　with　folded
hands。　　The　resolution　I　was　about　to　propose　when　our　friend　in　the
body　of　the　hall〃

But　Barbara's　attention；　had　wandered　off　again　into　that　queer
medley　of　thoughts；　and　feelings；　out　of　which　the　little　man　had　so
abruptly　roused　her。　　Then　she　realized　that　the　meeting　was　breaking
up；　and　her　mother　saying：

〃Now；　my　dear；　it's　hospital　day。　　We've　just　time。〃

When　they　were　once　more　in　the　car；　she　leaned　back　very　silent；
watching　the　traffic。

Lady　Valleys　eyed　her　sidelong。

〃What　a　little　bombshell；〃　she　said；　〃from　that　small　person！　　He
must　have　got　in　by　mistake。　　I　hear　Mr。　Courtier　has　a　card　for
Helen　Gloucester's　ball　to…night；　Babs。〃

〃Poor　man！〃

〃You　will　be　there；〃　said　Lady　Valleys　dryly。

Barbara　drew　back　into　her　corner。

〃Don't　tease　me；　Mother！〃

An　expression　of　compunction　crossed　Lady　Valleys'　face；　she　tried　to
possess　herself　of　Barbara's　hand。　　But　that　languid　hand　did　not
return　her　squeeze。

〃I　know　the　mood　you're　in；　dear。　　It　wants　all　one's　pluck　to　shake
it　off；　don't　let　it　grow　on　you。　　You'd　better　go　down　to　Uncle
Dennis　to…morrow。　　You've　been　overdoing　it。〃

Barbara　sighed。

〃I　wish　it　were　to…morrow。〃

The　car　had　stopped；　and　Lady　Valleys　said：

〃Will　you　come　in；　or　are　you　too　tired？　　It　always　does　them　good　to
see　you。〃

〃You're　twice　as　tired　as　me；〃　Barbara　answered；　〃of　course　I'll
come。〃

At　the　entrance　of　the　two　ladies；　there　rose　at　once　a　faint　buzz
and　murmur。　　Lady　Valleys；　whose　ample　presence　radiated　suddenly　a
businesslike　and　cheery　confidence；　went　to　a　bedside　and　sat　down。
But　Barbara　stood　in　a　thin　streak　of　the　July　sunlight；　uncertain
where　to　begin；　amongst　the　faces　turned　towards　her。　　The　poor　dears
looked　so　humble；　and　so　wistful；　and　so　tired。　　There　was　one　lying
quite　flat；　who　had　not　even　raised　her　head　to　see　who　had　come　in。
That　slumbering；　pale；　high　cheek…boned　face　had　a　frailty　as　if　a
touch；　a　breath；　would　shatter　it；　a　wisp　of　the　blackest　hair；　finer
than　silk；　lay　across　the　forehead；　the　closed　eyes　were　deep　sunk；
one　hand；　scarred　almost　to　the　bone　with　work；　rested　above　her
breast。　　She　breathed　between　lips　which　had　no　colour。　　About　her；
sleeping；　was　a　kind　of　beauty。　　And　there　came　over　the　girl　a　queer
rush　of　emotion。　　The　sleeper　seemed　so　apart　from　everything　there；
from　all　the　formality　and　stiffness　of　the　ward。　　To　look　at　her
swept　away　the　languid；　hollow　feeling　with　which　she　had　come　in；　it
made　her　think　of　the　tors　at　home；　when　the　wind　was　blowing；　and
all　was　bare；　and　grand；　and　sometimes　terrible。　　There　was　something
elemental　in　that　still　sleep。　　And　the　old　lady　in　the　next　led；
with　a　brown　wrinkled　face　and　bright　black　eyes　brimful　of　life；
seemed　almost　vulgar　beside　such　remote　tranquillity；　while　she　was
telling　Barbara　that　a　little　bunch　of　heather　in　the　better　half　of
a　soap…dish　on　the　window…sill　had　come　from　Wales；　because；　as　she
explained：　〃My　mother　was　born　in　Stirling；　dearie；　so　I　likes　a　bit
of　heather；　though　I　never　been　out　o'　Bethnal　Green　meself。〃

But　when　Barbara　again　passed；　the　sleeping　woman　was　sitting　up；　and
looked　but　a　poor　ordinary　thingher　strange　fragile　beauty　all
withdrawn。

It　was　a　relief　when　Lady　Valleys　said：

〃My　dear；　my　Naval　Bazaar　at　five…thirty；　and　while　I'm　there　you
must　go　home　and　have　a　rest；　and　freshen　yourself　up　for　the
evening。　　We　dine　at　Plassey　House。〃

The　Duchess　of　Gloucester's　Ball；　a　function　which　no　one　could　very
well　miss；　had　been　fixed　for　this　late　date　owing　to　the　Duchess's
announced　desire　to　prolong　the　season　and　so　help　the　hackney
cabmen；　and　though　everybody　sympathized；　it　had　been　felt　by　most
that　it　would　be　simpler　to　go　away；　motor　up　on　the　day　of　the　Ball；
and　motor　down　again　on　the　following　morning。　　And　throughout　the
week　by　which　the　season　was　thus　prolonged；　in　long　rows　at　the
railway　stations；　and　on　their　stands；　the　hackney　cabmen；
unconscious　of　what　was　being　done　for　them；　waited；　patient　as　their
horses。　　But　since　everybody　was　making　this　special　effort；　an
exceptionally　large；　exclusive；　and　brilliant　company　reassembled　at
Gloucester　House。

In　the　vast　ballroom　over　the　medley　of　entwined　revolving　couples；
punkahs　had　been　fixed；　to　clear　and　freshen　the　languid　air；　and
these　huge　fans；　moving　with　incredible　slowness；　drove　a　faint
refreshing　draught　down　over　the　sea　of　white　shirt…fronts　and　bare
necks；　and　freed　the　scent　from　innumerable　flowers。

Late　in　the　evening；　close　by　one　of　the　great　clumps　of　bloom；　a
very　pretty　woman　stood　talking　to　Bertie　Caradoc。　　She　was　his
cousin；　Lily　Malvezin；　sister　of　Geoffrey　Winlow；　and　wife　of　a
Liberal　peer；　a　charming　creature；　whose　pink　cheeks；　bright　eyes；
quick　lips；　and　rounded　figure；　endowed　her　with　the　prettiest　air　of
animation。　　And　while　she　spoke　she　kept　stealing　sly　glances　at　her
partner；　trying　as　it　were　to　pierce　the　armour　of　that　self…
contained　young　man。

〃No；　my　dear；〃　she　said　in　her　mocking　voice；　〃you'll　never　persuade
me　that　Miltoun　is　going　to　catch　on。　　'Il　est　trop　intransigeant'。
Ah！　　there's　Babs！〃

For　the　girl　had　come　gliding　by；　her　eyes　wandering　lazily；　her　lips
just　parted；　her　neck；　hardly　less　pale　than　her　white　frock；　her
face　pale；　and　marked　with　languor；　under　the　heavy　coil　of　her　tawny
hair；　and　her　swaying　body　seeming　with　each　turn　of　the　waltz　to　be
caught　by　the　arms　of　her　partner　from　out　of　a　swoon。

With　that　immobility　of　lips；　learned　by　all　imprisoned　in　Society；
Lily　Malvezin　murmured：

〃Who's　that　she's　dancing　with？　　Is　it　the　dark　horse；　Bertie？〃

Through　lips　no　less　immobile　Bertie　answered：

〃Forty　to　one；　no　takers。〃

But　those　inquisitive　bright　eyes　still　followed　Barbara；　drifting　in
the　dance；　like　a　great　waterlily　caught　in　the　swirl　of　a　mill　pool；
and　the　thought　passed　through　that　pretty　head：

〃She's　hooked　him。　　It's　naughty　of　Babs；　really！〃　And　then　she　saw
leaning　against　a　pillar　another　whose　eyes　also　were　following　those
two；　and　she　thought：　〃H'm！　　Poor　Claudno　wonder　he's　looking　like
that。　　Oh！　　Babs！〃

By　one　of　the　statues　on　the　terrace　Barbara　and　her　partner　stood；
where　trees；　disfigured　by　no　gaudy　lanterns；　offered　the　refreshment
of　their　darkness　and　serenity。

Wrapped　in　her　new　pale　languor；　still　breathing　deeply　from　the
waltz；　she　seemed　to　Courtier　too　utterly　moulded　out　of　loveliness。
To　what　end　should　a　man　frame　speeches　to　a　vision！　　She　was　but　an
incarnation　of　beauty　imprinted　on　the　air；　and　would　fade　out　at　a
touch…like　the　sudden　ghosts　of　enchantment　that　came　to　one　under
the　blue；　and　the　starlit　snow　of　a　mountain　night；　or　in　a　birch
wood　all　wistful　golden！　　Speech　seemed　but　desecration！　　Besides；
what　of　interest　was　there　for　him　to　say　in　this　world　of　hers；　so
bewildering　and　of　such　glib　assurancethis　world　that　was　like　a
building；　whose　every　window　was　shut　and　had　a　blind　drawn　down。　　A
building　that　admitted　none　who　had　not　sworn；　as　it　were；　to　believe
it　the　world；　the　whole　world；　and　nothing　but　the　world；　outside
which　were　only　the　nibbled　remains　of　what　had　built　it。　　This；
world　of　Society；　in　which　he　felt　like　one　travelling　through　a
desert；　longing　to　meet　a　fellow…creature。

The　voice　of　Harbinger　behind　them　said：

〃Lady…Babs！〃

Long　did　the　punkahs　waft　their　breeze　over　that　brave…hued　wheel　of
pleasure；　and　the　sound　of　the　violins　quaver　and　wail　out　into　the
morning。　　Then　quickly；　as　the　spangles　of　dew　vanish　off　grass　when
the　sun　rises；　all　melted　away；　and　in　the　great　rooms　were　none　but
flunkeys　presiding　over　the　polished　surfaces　like　flamingoes　by　some
lakeside　at　dawn。




CHAPTER　III

A　brick　dower…house　of　the　Fitz…Harolds；　just　outside　the　little
seaside　town　of　Nettlefold；　sheltered　the　tranquil　days　of　Lord
Dennis。　　In　that　south…coast　air；　sanest　and　most　healing　in　all
England；　he　raged　very　slowly；　taking　little　thought　of　death；　and
much　quiet　pleasure　in　his　life。　　Like　the　tall　old　house　with　its
high　windows　and　squat　chimneys；　he　was　marvellously　self…contained。
His　books；　for　he　somewhat　passionately　examined　old　civilizations；
and　described　their　habits　from　time　to　time　with　a　dry　and　not　too
poignant　pen　in　a　certain　old…fashioned　magazine；　his　microscope；　for
he　studied　infusoria；　and　the　fishing　boat　of　his　friend　John　Bogle；
　who　had　long　perceived　that　Lord　Dennis　was　the　biggest　fish　he　ever
caught；　all　these；　with　occasional　visitors；　and　little　runs