老妇人的故事 英文版The Old Wives' Tale
阿诺德.本涅特 Arnold Bennett
I
It was during the month of June that Aunt Harriet came over fromAxe to spend a few days with her little sister, Mrs. Baines. Therailway between Axe and the Five Towns had not yet been opened;but even if it had been opened Aunt Harriet would probably nothave used it. She had always travelled from Axe to Bursley in thesame vehicle, a small waggonette which she hired from Bratt'slivery stables at Axe, driven by a coachman who thoroughlyunderstood the importance, and the peculiarities, of Aunt Harriet.
Mrs. Baines had increased in stoutness, so that now Aunt Harriethad very little advantage over her, physically. But the moralascendency of the elder still persisted. The two vast widowsshared Mrs. Baines's bedroom, spending much of their time there inlong, hushed conversations--interviews from which Mrs. Bainesemerged with the air of one who has received enlightenment andAunt Harriet with the air of one who has rendered it. The pairwent about together, in the shop, the showroom, the parlour, thekitchen, and also into the town, addressing each other as'Sister,' 'Sister.' Everywhere it was 'sister,' 'sister,' 'mysister,' 'your dear mother,' 'your Aunt Harriet.' They referred toeach other as oracular sources of wisdom and good taste.Respectability stalked abroad when they were afoot. The wholeSquare wriggled uneasily as though God's eye were peculiarly uponit. The meals in the parlour became solemn collations, at whichshone the best silver and the finest diaper, but from which gaietyand naturalness seemed to be banished. (I say 'seemed' because itcannot be doubted that Aunt Harriet was natural, and there weremoments when she possibly considered herself to be practisinggaiety--a gaiety more desolating than her severity.) The youngergeneration was extinguished, pressed flat and lifeless under theponderosity of the widows.
Mr. Povey was not the man to be easily flattened by ponderosity ofany kind, and his suppression was a striking proof of the prowessof the widows; who, indeed, went over Mr. Povey like traction-engines, with the sublime unconsciousness of traction-engines,leaving an inanimate object in the road behind them, and scarceaware even of the jolt. Mr. Povey hated Aunt Harriet, but, lyingcrushed there in the road, how could he rebel? He felt all thetime that Aunt Harriet was adding him up, and reporting the resultat frequent intervals to Mrs. Baines in the bedroom. He felt thatshe knew everything about him--even to those tears which had beenin his eyes. He felt that he could hope to do nothing right forAunt Harriet, that absolute perfection in the performance of dutywould make no more impression on her than a caress on the fly-wheel of a traction-engine. Constance, the dear Constance, wasalso looked at askance. There was nothing in Aunt Harriet'sdemeanour to her that you could take hold of, but there wasemphatically something that you could not take hold of--a hint, aninkling, that insinuated to Constance, "Have a care, lestperadventure you become the second cousin of the scarlet woman."
Sophia was petted. Sophia was liable to be playfully tapped byAunt Harriet's thimble when Aunt Harriet was hemming dusters (forthe elderly lady could lift a duster to her own dignity). Sophiawas called on two separate occasions, 'My little butterfly.' AndSophia was entrusted with the trimming of Aunt Harriet's newsummer bonnet. Aunt Harriet deemed that Sophia was looking pale.As the days passed, Sophia's pallor was emphasized by Aunt Harrietuntil it developed into an article of faith, to which you werecompelled to subscribe on pain of excommunication. Then dawned theday when Aunt Harriet said, staring at Sophia as an affectionateaunt may: "That child would do with a change." And then theredawned another day when Aunt Harriet, staring at Sophiacompassionately, as a devoted aunt may, said: "It's a pity thatchild can't have a change." And Mrs. Baines also stared--and said:"It is."
And on another day Aunt Harriet said: "I've been wondering whethermy little Sophia would care to come and keep her old aunt companya while."
beruffled.smooth surface of things would not beruffled.glanced at her. away!"exclaimed Sophia in a hard, furious voice, with?
There were few things for which Sophia would have cared less. Thegirl swore to herself angrily that she would not go, that noallurement would induce her to go. But she was in a net; she wasin the meshes of family correctness. Do what she would, she couldnot invent a reason for not going. Certainly she could not tellher aunt that she merely did not want to go. She was capable ofenormities, but not of that. And then began Aunt Harriet'sintricate preparations for going. Aunt Harriet never did anythingsimply. And she could not be hurried. Seventy-two hours beforeleaving she had to commence upon her trunk; but first the trunkhad to be wiped by Maggie with a damp cloth under the eye anddirection of Aunt Harriet. And the liveryman at Axe had to bewritten to, and the servants at Axe written to, and the weatherprospects weighed and considered. And somehow, by the time thesematters were accomplished, it was tacitly understood that Sophiashould accompany her kind aunt into the bracing moorland air ofAxe. No smoke at Axe! No stuffiness at Axe! The spacious existenceof a wealthy widow in a residential town with a low death-rate andfamous scenery! "Have you packed your box, Sophia?" No, she hadnot. "Well, I will come and help you."
was her sole bitter comment on the episode, but.
Impossible to bear up against the momentum of a massive body likeAunt Harriet's! It was irresistible.
The day of departure came, throwing the entire household into acommotion. Dinner was put a quarter of an hour earlier than usualso that Aunt Harriet might achieve Axe at her accustomed hour oftea. After dinner Maggie was the recipient of three amazing muslinaprons, given with a regal gesture. And the trunk and the box werebrought down, and there was a slight odour of black kid gloves inthe parlour. The waggonette was due and the waggonette appeared("I can always rely upon Bladen!" said Aunt Harriet), and the doorwas opened, and Bladen, stiff on his legs, descended from the boxand touched his hat to Aunt Harriet as she filled up the doorway.
"Have you baited, Bladen?" asked she.
"Yes'm," said he, assuringly.
Bladen and Mr. Povey carried out the trunk and the box, andConstance charged herself with parcels which she bestowed in thecorners of the vehicle according to her aunt's prescription; itwas like stowing the cargo of a vessel.
"Now, Sophia, my chuck!" Mrs. Baines called up the stairs. AndSophia came slowly downstairs. Mrs. Baines offered her mouth.Sophia glanced at her.
"You needn't think I don't see why you're sending me away!"exclaimed Sophia in a hard, furious voice, with glistening eyes."I'm not so blind as all that!" She kissed her mother--nothing buta contemptuous peck. Then, as she turned away she added: "But youlet Constance do just as she likes!"
This was her sole bitter comment on the episode, but into it sheput all the profound bitterness accumulated during many mutinousnights.
Mrs. Baines concealed a sigh. The explosion certainly disturbedher. She had hoped that the smooth surface of things would not beruffled.
Sophia bounced out. And the assembly, including several urchins,watched with held breath while Aunt Harriet, after having bidmajestic good-byes, got on to the step and introduced herselfthrough the doorway of the waggonette into the interior of thevehicle; it was an operation like threading a needle with cottontoo thick. Once within, her hoops distended in sudden release,filling the waggonette. Sophia followed, agilely.
As, with due formalities, the equipage drove off, Mrs. Baines gaveanother sigh, one of relief. The sisters had won. She could nowawait the imminent next advent of Mr. Gerald Scales withtranquillity.