霍华德庄园 英文版 Howards End
爱德华.摩根.福斯特 Edward Morgan Forster
Chapter 38
The tragedy began quietly enough, and like many anothertalk, by the man's deft assertion of his superiority. Henryheard her arguing with the driver, stepped out and settledthe fellow, who was inclined to be rude, and then led theway to some chairs on the lawn. Dolly, who had not been"told," ran out with offers of tea. He refused them, andordered her to wheel baby's perambulator away, as theydesired to be alone.
"But the diddums can't listen; he isn't nine monthsold," she pleaded.
"That's not what I was saying," retorted her father-in-law.
Baby was wheeled out of earshot, and did not hear aboutthe crisis till later years. It was now the turn of Margaret.
"Is it what we feared?" he asked.
"It is."
"Dear girl," he began, "there is a troublesome businessahead of us, and nothing but the most absolute honesty andplain speech will see us through." Margaret bent her head."I am obliged to question you on subjects we'd both preferto leave untouched. As you know, I am not one of yourBernard Shaws who consider nothing sacred. To speak as Imust will pain me, but there are occasions--We are husbandand wife, not children. I am a man of the world, and youare a most exceptional woman."
All Margaret's senses forsook her. She blushed, andlooked past him at the Six Hills, covered with springherbage. Noting her colour, he grew still more kind.
"I see that you feel as I felt when--My poor littlewife! Oh, be brave! Just one or two questions, and I havedone with you. Was your sister wearing a wedding-ring?"
Margaret stammered a "No."
There was an appalling silence.
"Henry, I really came to ask a favour about Howards End."
"One point at a time. I am now obliged to ask for thename of her seducer."
She rose to her feet and held the chair between them.Her colour had ebbed, and she was grey. It did notdisplease him that she should receive his question thus.
"Take your time," he counselled her. "Remember thatthis is far worse for me than for you."
time. "Are we tomake her seducer marry.
She swayed; he feared she was going to faint. Thenspeech came, and she said slowly: "Seducer? No; I do notknow her seducer's name."
"Would she not tell you?"
"I never even asked her who seduced her," said Margaret,dwelling on the hateful word thoughtfully.
"That is singular." Then he changed his mind. "Naturalperhaps, dear girl, that you shouldn't ask. But until hisname is known, nothing can be done. Sit down. How terribleit is to see you so upset! I knew you weren't fit for it.I wish I hadn't taken you."
Margaret answered, "I like to stand, if you don't mind,for it gives me a pleasant view of the Six Hills."
"As you like."
"Have you anything else to ask me, Henry?"
"Next you must tell me whether you have gatheredanything. I have often noticed your insight, dear. I onlywish my own was as good. You may have guessed something,even though your sister said nothing. The slightest hintwould help us."
She blushed, andlooked past him.
"Who is 'we'?"
"I thought it best to ring up Charles."
"That was unnecessary," said Margaret, growing warmer."This news will give Charles disproportionate pain."
"He has at once gone to call on your brother."
"That too was unnecessary."
"Let me explain, dear, how the matter stands. You don'tthink that I and my son are other than gentlemen? It is inHelen's interests that we are acting. It is still not toolate to save her name."
Then Margaret hit out for the first time. "Are we tomake her seducer marry her?" she asked.
"If possible. Yes."
"But, Henry, suppose he turned out to be marriedalready? One has heard of such cases."
"In that case he must pay heavily for his misconduct,and be thrashed within an inch of his life."
So her first blow missed. She was thankful of it. Whathad tempted her to imperil both of their lives? Henry'sobtuseness had saved her as well as himself. Exhausted withanger, she sat down again, blinking at him as he told her asmuch as he thought fit. At last she said: "May I ask you myquestion now?"
"Certainly, my dear."
"Tomorrow Helen goes to Munich--"
"Well, possibly she is right."
"Henry, let a lady finish. Tomorrow she goes; tonight,with your permission, she would like to sleep at Howards End."
It was the crisis of his life. Again she would haverecalled the words as soon as they were uttered. She hadnot led up to them with sufficient care. She longed to warnhim that they were far more important than he supposed. Shesaw him weighing them, as if they were a business proposition.
"Why Howards End?" he said at last. "Would she not bemore comfortable, as I suggested, at the hotel?"
Margaret hastened to give him reasons. "It is an oddrequest, but you know what Helen is and what women in herstate are." He frowned, and moved irritably. "She has theidea that one night in your house would give her pleasureand do her good. I think she's right. Being one of thoseimaginative girls, the presence of all our books andfurniture soothes her. This is a fact. It is the end ofher girlhood. Her last words to me were, 'A beautiful ending.'"
"She values the old furniture for sentimental reasons,in fact."
"Exactly. You have quite understood. It is her lasthope of being with it."
"I don't agree there, my dear! Helen will have hershare of the goods wherever she goes--possibly more than hershare, for you are so fond of her that you'd give heranything of yours that she fancies, wouldn't you? and I'draise no objection. I could understand it if it was her oldhome, because a home, or a house"--he changed the word,designedly; he had thought of a telling point--"because ahouse in which one has once lived becomes in a sort of waysacred, I don't know why. Associations and so on. NowHelen has no associations with Howards End, though I andCharles and Evie have. I do not see why she wants to staythe night there. She will only catch cold."
"Leave it that you don't see," cried Margaret. "Call itfancy. But realize that fancy is a scientific fact. Helenis fanciful, and wants to."
Then he surprised her--a rare occurrence. He shot anunexpected bolt. "If she wants to sleep one night, she maywant to sleep two. We shall never get her out of the house,perhaps."
"Well?" said Margaret, with the precipice in sight."And suppose we don't get her out of the house? Would itmatter? She would do no one any harm."
Again the irritated gesture.
"No, Henry," she panted, receding. "I didn't meanthat. We will only trouble Howards End for this one night.I take her to London tomorrow--"
"Do you intend to sleep in a damp house, too?"
"She cannot be left alone."
"That's quite impossible! Madness. You must be here tomeet Charles."
"I have already told you that your message to Charleswas unnecessary, and I have no desire to meet him."
"Margaret--my Margaret--"
"What has this business to do with Charles? If itconcerns me little, it concerns you less, and Charles not atall."
"As the future owner of Howards End," said Mr. Wilcox,arching his fingers, "I should say that it did concern Charles."
"In what way? Will Helen's condition depreciate the property?"
"My dear, you are forgetting yourself."
"I think you yourself recommended plain speaking."
They looked at each other in amazement. The precipicewas at their feet now.
"Helen commands my sympathy," said Henry. "As yourhusband, I shall do all for her that I can, and I have nodoubt that she will prove more sinned against than sinning.But I cannot treat her as if nothing has happened. I shouldbe false to my position in society if I did."
She controlled herself for the last time. "No, let usgo back to Helen's request," she said. "It is unreasonable,but the request of an unhappy girl. Tomorrow she will go toGermany, and trouble society no longer. Tonight she asks tosleep in your empty house--a house which you do not careabout, and which you have not occupied for over a year. Mayshe? Will you give my sister leave? Will you forgiveher--as you hope to be forgiven, and as you have actuallybeen forgiven? Forgive her for one night only. That willbe enough."
"As I have actually been forgiven--?"
"Never mind for the moment what I mean by that," saidMargaret. "Answer my question."
Perhaps some hint of her meaning did dawn on him. Ifso, he blotted it out. Straight from his fortress heanswered: "I seem rather unaccommodating, but I have someexperience of life, and know how one thing leads toanother. I am afraid that your sister had better sleep atthe hotel. I have my children and the memory of my dearwife to consider. I am sorry, but see that she leaves myhouse at once."
"You mentioned Mrs. Wilcox."
"I beg your pardon?"
"A rare occurrence. In reply, may I mention Mrs. Bast?"
"You have not been yourself all day," said Henry, androse from his seat with face unmoved. Margaret rushed athim and seized both his hands. She was transfigured.
"Not any more of this!" she cried. "You shall see theconnection if it kills you, Henry! You have had amistress--I forgave you. My sister has a lover--you driveher from the house. Do you see the connection? Stupid,hypocritical, cruel--oh, contemptible! --a man who insultshis wife when she's alive and cants with her memory whenshe's dead. A man who ruins a woman for his pleasure, andcasts her off to ruin other men. And gives bad financialadvice, and then says he is not responsible. These, man,are you. You can't recognize them, because you cannotconnect. I've had enough of your unweeded kindness. I'vespoilt you long enough. All your life you have beenspoiled. Mrs. Wilcox spoiled you. No one has ever toldwhat you are--muddled, criminally muddled. Men like you userepentance as a blind, so don't repent. Only say toyourself, 'What Helen has done, I've done.'"
"The two cases are different," Henry stammered. Hisreal retort was not quite ready. His brain was still in awhirl, and he wanted a little longer.
"In what way different? You have betrayed Mrs. Wilcox,Helen only herself. You remain in society, Helen can't.You have had only pleasure, she may die. You have theinsolence to talk to me of differences, Henry?"
Oh, the uselessness of it! Henry's retort came.
"I perceive you are attempting blackmail. It isscarcely a pretty weapon for a wife to use against herhusband. My rule through life has been never to pay theleast attention to threats, and I can only repeat what Isaid before: I do not give you and your sister leave tosleep at Howards End."
Margaret loosed his hands. He went into the house,wiping first one and then the other on his handkerchief.For a little she stood looking at the Six Hills, tombs ofwarriors, breasts of the spring. Then she passed out intowhat was now the evening.