老妇人的故事 英文版The Old Wives' Tale
阿诺德.本涅特 Arnold Bennett
III
The sisters had an early supper together in Constance's bedroom.Constance was much easier. Having a fancy that a little movementwould be beneficial, she had even got up for a few moments andmoved about the room. Now she sat ensconced in pillows. A fireburned in the old-fashioned ineffectual grate. From the Sun Vaultsopposite came the sound of a phonograph singing an invitation toGod to save its gracious queen. This phonograph was a wonderfulnovelty, and filled the Sun nightly. For a few evenings it hadinterested the sisters, in spite of themselves, but they had soonsickened of it and loathed it. Sophia became more and moreobsessed by the monstrous absurdity of the simple fact that sheand Constance were there, in that dark inconvenient house, weariedby the gaiety of public-houses, blackened by smoke, surrounded bymud, instead of being luxuriously installed in a beautifulclimate, amid scenes of beauty and white cleanliness. Secretly shebecame more and more indignant.
Amy entered, bearing a letter in her coarse hand. As Amyunceremoniously handed the letter to Constance, Sophia thought:"If she was my servant she would hand letters on a tray." (Anadvertisement had already been sent to the Signal.)
Constance took the letter trembling. "Here it is at last," shecried.
When she had put on her spectacles and read it, she exclaimed:
"Bless us! Here's news! He's coming down! That's why he didn'twrite on Saturday as usual."
She gave the letter to Sophia to read. It ran--
"Sunday midnight.
"DEAR MOTHER,
"Just a line to say I am coming down to Bursley on Wednesday, onbusiness with Peels. I shall get to Knype at 5.28, and take theLoop. I've been very busy, and as I was coming down I didn't writeon Saturday. I hope you didn't worry. Love to yourself and AuntSophia.
"Yours, C."
"I must send him a line," said Constance, excitedly.
"What? To-night?"
"Yes. Amy can easily catch the last post with it. Otherwise hewon't know that I've got his letter."
will you?"Sunday midnight.What? To-night?"
She rang the bell.
Sophia thought: "His coming down is really no excuse for his notwriting on Saturday. How could she guess that he was coming down?I shall have to put in a little word to that young man. I wonderConstance is so blind. She is quite satisfied now that his letterhas come." On behalf of the elder generation she rather resentedConstance's eagerness to write in answer.
But Constance was not so blind. Constance thought exactly asSophia thought. In her heart she did not at all justify or excuseCyril. She remembered separately almost every instance of hiscarelessness in her regard. "Hope I didn't worry, indeed!" shesaid to herself with a faint touch of bitterness, apropos of thephrase in his letter.
Nevertheless she insisted on writing at once. And Amy had to bringthe writing materials.
"Mr. Cyril is coming down on Wednesday," she said to Amy withgreat dignity.
Amy's stony calmness was shaken, for Mr. Cyril was a great deal toAmy. Amy wondered how she would be able to look Mr. Cyril in theface when he knew that she had given notice.
In the middle of writing, on her knee, Constance looked up atSophia, and said, as though defending herself against anaccusation: "I didn't write to him yesterday, you know, or to-day."
"No," Sophia murmured assentingly.
Constance rang the bell yet again, and Amy was sent out to thepost.
Soon afterwards the bell was rung for a fourth time, and notanswered.
"I suppose she hasn't come back yet. But I thought I heard thedoor. What a long time she is!"
"What do you want?" Sophia asked.
"I just want to speak to her," said Constance.
When the bell had been rung seven or eight times, Amy at lengthre-appeared, somewhat breathless.
"Amy," said Constance, "let me examine those sheets, will you?"
"Yes'm," said Amy, apparently knowing what sheets, of all thevarious and multitudinous sheets in that house.
"And the pillow-cases," Constance added as Amy left the room.
So it continued. The next day the fever heightened. Constance wasup early, before Sophia, and trotting about the house like a girl.Immediately after breakfast Cyril's bedroom was invested andrevolutionized; not till evening was order restored in thatchamber. And on the Wednesday morning it had to be dusted afresh.Sophia watched the preparations, and the increasing agitation ofConstance's demeanour, with an astonishment which she had realdifficulty in concealing. "Is the woman absolutely mad?" she askedherself. The spectacle was ludicrous: or it seemed so to Sophia,whose career had not embraced much experience of mothers. It wasnot as if the manifestations of Constance's anxiety were dignifiedor original or splendid. They were just silly, ordinaryfussinesses; they had no sense in them. Sophia was very careful tomake no observation. She felt that before she and Constance werevery much older she had a very great deal to do, and that a subtlediplomacy and wary tactics would be necessary. Moreover,Constance's angelic temper was slightly affected by the strain ofexpectation. She had a tendency to rasp. After the high-tea wasset she suddenly sprang on to the sofa and lifted down the 'Stagat Eve' engraving. The dust on the top of the frame incensed her.
"What are you going to do?" Sophia asked, in a final marvel.
"I'm going to change it with that one," said Constance, pointingto another engraving opposite the fireplace. "He said the effectwould be very much better if they were changed. And his lordshipis very particular."
Constance did not go to Bursley station to meet her son. Sheexplained that it upset her to do so, and that also Cyrilpreferred her not to come.
"Suppose I go to meet him," said Sophia, at half-past five. Theidea had visited her suddenly. She thought: "Then I could talk tohim before any one else."
"Oh, do!" Constance agreed.
Sophia put her things on with remarkable expedition. She arrivedat the station a minute before the train came in. Only a fewpersons emerged from the train, and Cyril was not among them. Aporter said that there was not supposed to be any connectionbetween the Loop Line trains and the main line expresses, and thatprobably the express had missed the Loop. She waited thirty-fiveminutes for the next Loop, and Cyril did not emerge from thattrain either.
Constance opened the front-door to her, and showed a telegram--
"Sorry prevented last moment. Writing. CYRIL."
Sophia had known it. Somehow she had known that it was useless towait for the second train. Constance was silent and calm; Sophiaalso.
"What a shame! What a shame!" thumped Sophia's heart.
It was the most ordinary episode. But beneath her calm she wasfurious against her favourite. She hesitated.
"I'm just going out a minute," she said.
"Where?" asked Constance. "Hadn't we better have tea? I suppose wemust have tea."
"I shan't be long. I want to buy something."
Sophia went to the post-office and despatched a telegram. Then,partially eased, she returned to the arid and painful desolationof the house.