霍华德庄园 英文版 Howards End
爱德华.摩根.福斯特 Edward Morgan Forster
Chapter 26 Page 2
He ceased.
"Won't you have something to eat?" said Margaret. "Idon't know what to do. It isn't my house, and though Mr.Wilcox would have been glad to see you at any other time--asI say, I don't know what to do, but I undertake to do what Ican for you. Helen, offer them something. Do try asandwich, Mrs. Bast."
They moved to a long table behind which a servant wasstill standing. Iced cakes, sandwiches innumerable, coffee,claret-cup, champagne, remained almost intact: their overfedguests could do no more. Leonard refused. Jacky thoughtshe could manage a little. Margaret left them whisperingtogether and had a few more words with Helen.
She said: "Helen, I like Mr. Bast. I agree that he'sworth helping. I agree that we are directly responsible."
"No, indirectly. Via Mr. Wilcox."
"Let me tell you once for all that if you take up thatattitude, I'll do nothing. No doubt you're right logically,and are entitled to say a great many scathing things aboutHenry. Only, I won't have it. So choose.
Helen looked at the sunset.
"If you promise to take them quietly to the George, Iwill speak to Henry about them--in my own way, mind; thereis to be none of this absurd screaming about justice. Ihave no use for justice. If it was only a question ofmoney, we could do it ourselves. But he wants work, andthat we can't give him, but possibly Henry can."
"It's his duty to," grumbled Helen.
"Nor am I concerned with duty. I'm concerned with thecharacters of various people whom we know, and how, thingsbeing as they are, things may be made a little better. Mr.Wilcox hates being asked favours: all business men do. ButI am going to ask him, at the risk of a rebuff, because Iwant to make things a little better."
"Very well. I promise. You take it very calmly. "
"Take them off to the George, then, and I'll try. Poorcreatures! but they look tried." As they parted, sheadded: "I haven't nearly done with you, though, Helen. Youhave been most self-indulgent. I can't get over it. Youhave less restraint rather than more as you grow older.Think it over and alter yourself, or we shan't have happy lives."
She rejoined Henry. Fortunately he had been sittingdown: these physical matters were important. "Was ittownees?" he asked, greeting her with a pleasant smile.
"You'll never believe me," said Margaret, sitting downbeside him. "It's all right now, but it was my sister."
"Helen here?" he cried, preparing to rise. "But sherefused the invitation. I thought she despised weddings."
"Don't get up. She has not come to the wedding. I'vebundled her off to the George."
Inherently hospitable, he protested.
"No; she has two of her proteges with her, and must keepwith them."
"Let 'em all come."
"My dear Henry, did you see them?"
"I did catch sight of a brown bunch of a woman, certainly.
"The brown bunch was Helen, but did you catch sight of asea-green and salmon bunch?"
"What! are they out beanfeasting?"
"No; business. They wanted to see me, and later on Iwant to talk to you about them."
She was ashamed of her own diplomacy. In dealing with aWilcox, how tempting it was to lapse from comradeship, andto give him the kind of woman that he desired! Henry tookthe hint at once, and said: "Why later on? Tell me now. Notime like the present."
"Shall I?"
"If it isn't a long story."
"Oh, not five minutes; but there's a sting at the end ofit, for I want you to find the man some work in your office."
"What are his qualifications?"
"I don't know. He's a clerk."
"How old?"
"Twenty-five, perhaps."
"What's his name?"
"Bast," said Margaret, and was about to remind him thatthey had met at Wickham Place, but stopped herself. It hadnot been a successful meeting.
"Where was he before?"
"Dempster's Bank."
"Why did he leave?" he asked, still remembering nothing.
"They reduced their staff."
"All right; I'll see him."
It was the reward of her tact and devotion through theday. Now she understood why some women prefer influence torights. Mrs. Plynlimmon, when condemning suffragettes, hadsaid: "The woman who can't influence her husband to vote theway she wants ought to be ashamed of herself." Margaret hadwinced, but she was influencing Henry now, and thoughpleased at her little victory, she knew that she had won itby the methods of the harem.
"I should be glad if you took him," she said, "but Idon't know whether he's qualified."
"I'll do what I can. But, Margaret, this mustn't betaken as a precedent."
"No, of course--of course--"
"I can't fit in your proteges every day. Business wouldsuffer."
"I can promise you he's the last. He--he's rather aspecial case."
"Proteges always are."
She let it stand at that. He rose with a little extratouch of complacency, and held out his hand to help her up.How wide the gulf between Henry as he was and Henry as Helenthought he ought to be! And she herself--hovering as usualbetween the two, now accepting men as they are, now yearningwith her sister for Truth. Love and Truth--their warfareseems eternal. Perhaps the whole visible world rests on it,and if they were one, life itself, like the spirits whenProspero was reconciled to his brother, might vanish intoair, into thin air.
"Your protege has made us late," said he. "The Fussellswill just be starting."
On the whole she sided with men as they are. Henrywould save the Basts as he had saved Howards End, whileHelen and her friends were discussing the ethics ofsalvation. His was a slap-dash method, but the world hasbeen built slap-dash, and the beauty of mountain and riverand sunset may be but the varnish with which the unskilledartificer hides his joins. Oniton, like herself, wasimperfect. Its apple-trees were stunted, its castleruinous. It, too, had suffered in the border warfarebetween the Anglo Saxon and the Kelt, between things as theyare and as they ought to be. Once more the west wasretreating, once again the orderly stars were dotting theeastern sky. There is certainly no rest for us on theearth. But there is happiness, and as Margaret descendedthe mound on her lover's arm, she felt that she was havingher share.
To her annoyance, Mrs. Bast was still in the garden; thehusband and Helen had left her there to finish her mealwhile they went to engage rooms. Margaret found this womanrepellent. She had felt, when shaking her hand, anoverpowering shame. She remembered the motive of her callat Wickham Place, and smelt again odours from theabyss--odours the more disturbing because they wereinvoluntary. For there was no malice in Jacky. There shesat, a piece of cake in one hand, an empty champagne glassin the other, doing no harm to anybody.
"She's overtired," Margaret whispered.
"She's something else," said Henry. "This won't do. Ican't have her in my garden in this state."
"Is she--" Margaret hesitated to add "drunk." Now thatshe was going to marry him, he had grown particular. Hediscountenanced risque conversations now.
Henry went up to the woman. She raised her face, whichgleamed in the twilight like a puff-ball.
"Madam, you will be more comfortable at the hotel," hesaid sharply.
Jacky replied: "If it isn't Hen!"
"Ne crois pas que le mari lui ressemble," apologizedMargaret. "Il est tout a fait different."
"Henry!" she repeated, quite distinctly.
Mr. Wilcox was much annoyed. "I can't congratulate youon your proteges," he remarked.
"Hen, don't go. You do love me, dear, don't you?"
"Bless us, what a person!" sighed Margaret, gathering upher skirts.
Jacky pointed with her cake. "You're a nice boy, youare." She yawned. "There now, I love you."
"And pray why?" he asked, and looked at her so sternlythat she feared he was ill. He seemed more scandalized thanthe facts demanded.
"To have brought this down on you."
"Pray don't apologize."
The voice continued.
"Why does she call you 'Hen'?" said Margaretinnocently. "Has she ever seen you before?"
"Seen Hen before!" said Jacky. "Who hasn't seen Hen?He's serving you like me, my dear. These boys! Youwait--Still we love 'em."
"Are you now satisfied?" Henry asked.
Margaret began to grow frightened. "I don't know whatit is all about," she said. "Let's come in."
But he thought she was acting. He thought he wastrapped. He saw his whole life crumbling. "Don't youindeed?" he said bitingly. "I do. Allow me to congratulateyou on the success of your plan."
"This is Helen's plan, not mine."
"I now understand your interest in the Basts. Very wellthought out. I am amused at your caution, Margaret. Youare quite right--it was necessary. I am a man, and havelived a man's past. I have the honour to release you fromyour engagement."
Still she could not understand. She knew of life'sseamy side as a theory; she could not grasp it as a fact.More words from Jacky were necessary--words unequivocal, undenied.
"So that--" burst from her, and she went indoors. Shestopped herself from saying more.
"So what?" asked Colonel Fussell, who was getting readyto start in the hall.
"We were saying--Henry and I were just having thefiercest argument, my point being--" Seizing his fur coatfrom a footman, she offered to help him on. He protested,and there was a playful little scene.
"No, let me do that," said Henry, following.
"Thanks so much! You see--he has forgiven me!"
The Colonel said gallantly: "I don't expect there's muchto forgive.
He got into the car. The ladies followed him after aninterval. Maids, courier, and heavier luggage had been senton earlier by the branch--line. Still chattering, stillthanking their host and patronizing their future hostess,the guests were home away.
How old?"overtired.
Then Margaret continued: "So that woman has been your mistress?"
"You put it with your usual delicacy," he replied.
"When, please?"
"Why?"
"When, please?"
"Ten years ago."
She left him without a word. For it was not hertragedy: it was Mrs. Wilcox's.