老妇人的故事 英文版The Old Wives' Tale
阿诺德.本涅特 Arnold Bennett
III
A few days later Constance was arranging the more precious of herwedding presents in the parlour; some had to be wrapped in tissueand in brown paper and then tied with string and labelled; othershad special cases of their own, leather without and velvet within.Among the latter was the resplendent egg-stand holding twelvesilver-gilt egg-cups and twelve chased spoons to match, presentedby Aunt Harriet. In the Five Towns' phrase, 'it must have costmoney.' Even if Mr and Mrs. Povey had ten guests or ten children,and all the twelve of them were simultaneously gripped by a desireto eat eggs at breakfast or tea--even in this remote contingencyAunt Harriet would have been pained to see the egg-stand in use;such treasures are not designed for use. The presents, few innumber, were mainly of this character, because, owing to hermother's heroic cession of the entire interior, Constance alreadypossessed every necessary. The fewness of the presents wasaccounted for by the fact that the wedding had been strictlyprivate and had taken place at Axe. There is nothing like secrecyin marriage for discouraging the generous impulses of one'sfriends. It was Mrs. Baines, abetted by both the chief parties,who had decided that the wedding should be private and secluded.Sophia's wedding had been altogether too private and secluded; butthe casting of a veil over Constance's (whose union wasirreproachable) somehow justified, after the event, thecircumstances of Sophia's, indicating as it did that Mrs. Bainesbelieved in secret weddings on principle. In such matters Mrs.Baines was capable of extraordinary subtlety.
And while Constance was thus taking her wedding presents with dueseriousness, Maggie was cleaning the steps that led from thepavement of King Street to the side-door, and the door was ajar.It was a fine June morning.
Suddenly, over the sound of scouring, Constance heard a dog's lowgrowl and then the hoarse voice of a man:
"Mester in, wench?"
"Happen he is, happen he isn't," came Maggie's answer. She had nofancy for being called wench.
Constance went to the door, not merely from curiosity, but from afeeling that her authority and her responsibilities as house-mistress extended to the pavement surrounding the house.
The famous James Boon, of Buck Row, the greatest dog-fancier inthe Five Towns, stood at the bottom of the steps: a tall, fat man,clad in stiff, stained brown and smoking a black clay pipe lessthan three inches long. Behind him attended two bull-dogs.
"Morning, missis!" cried Boon, cheerfully. "I've heerd tell as th'mister is looking out for a dog, as you might say."
"I don't stay here with them animals a-sniffing at me--no, that Idon't!" observed Maggie, picking herself up.
was so confiding, so affectionate, sotimorous.
"Is he?" Constance hesitated. She knew that Samuel had vaguelyreferred to dogs; she had not, however, imagined that he regardeda dog as aught but a beautiful dream. No dog had ever put paw intothat house, and it seemed impossible that one should ever do so.As for those beasts of prey on the pavement ...!
"Ay!" said James Boon, calmly.
"I'll tell him you're here," said Constance. "But I don't know ifhe's at liberty. He seldom is at this time of day. Maggie, you'dbetter come in."
She went slowly to the shop, full of fear for the future.
"Sam," she whispered to her husband, who was writing at his desk,"here's a man come to see you about a dog."
Assuredly he was taken aback. Still, he behaved with much presenceof mind.
"Oh, about a dog! Who is it?"
"It's that Jim Boon. He says he's heard you want one."
The renowned name of Jim Boon gave him pause; but he had to gothrough with the affair, and he went through with it, thoughnervously. Constance followed his agitated footsteps to the side-door.
"Morning, Boon."
"Morning, master."
They began to talk dogs, Mr Povey, for his part, with due caution.
"Now, there's a dog!" said Boon, pointing to one of the bull-dogs,a miracle of splendid ugliness.
"Yes," responded Mr. Povey, insincerely. "He is a beauty. What'sit worth now, at a venture?"
"I'll tak' a hundred and twenty sovereigns for her," said Boon."Th' other's a bit cheaper--a hundred."
"Oh, Sam!" gasped Constance.
And even Mr. Povey nearly lost his nerve. "That's more than I wantto give," said he timidly.
"But look at her!" Boon persisted, roughly snatching up the moreexpensive animal, and displaying her cannibal teeth.
Mr. Povey shook his head. Constance glanced away.
"That's not quite the sort of dog I want," said Mr. Povey.
"Fox-terrier?"
"Yes, that's more like," Mr. Povey agreed eagerly.
displaying her .
"What'll ye run to?"
"Oh," said Mr. Povey, largely, "I don't know."
"Will ye run to a tenner?"
"I thought of something cheaper."
"Well, hoo much? Out wi' it, mester."
"Not more than two pounds," said Mr. Povey. He would have said onepound had he dared. The prices of dogs amazed him.
"I thowt it was a dog as ye wanted!" said Boon. "Look 'ere,mester. Come up to my yard and see what I've got."
"I will," said Mr. Povey.
"And bring missis along too. Now, what about a cat for th' missis?Or a gold-fish?"
The end of the episode was that a young lady aged some twelvemonths entered the Povey household on trial. Her exiguous legstwinkled all over the parlour, and she had the oddest appearancein the parlour. But she was so confiding, so affectionate, sotimorous, and her black nose was so icy in that hot weather, thatConstance loved her violently within an hour. Mr. Povey made rulesfor her. He explained to her that she must never, never go intothe shop. But she went, and he whipped her to the squealing point,and Constance cried an instant, while admiring her husband'sfirmness.
The dog was not all.
On another day Constance, prying into the least details of theparlour, discovered a box of cigars inside the lid of theharmonium, on the keyboard. She was so unaccustomed to cigars thatat first she did not realize what the object was. Her father hadnever smoked, nor drunk intoxicants; nor had Mr. Critchlow. Nobodyhad ever smoked in that house, where tobacco had always beenregarded as equally licentious with cards, 'the devil'splaythings.' Certainly Samuel had never smoked in the house,though the sight of the cigar-box reminded Constance of anoccasion when her mother had announced an incredulous suspicionthat Mr. Povey, fresh from an excursion into the world on aThursday evening, 'smelt of smoke.'
She closed the harmonium and kept silence.
That very night, coming suddenly into the parlour, she caughtSamuel at the harmonium. The lid went down with a resonant bangthat awoke sympathetic vibrations in every corner of the room.
"What is it?" Constance inquired, jumping.
"Oh, nothing!" replied Mr. Povey, carelessly. Each was deceivingthe other: Mr. Povey hid his crime, and Constance hid herknowledge of his crime. False, false! But this is what marriageis.
And the next day Constance had a visit in the shop from a possiblenew servant, recommended to her by Mr. Holl, the grocer.
"Will you please step this way?" said Constance, with affableprimness, steeped in the novel sense of what it is to be the soleresponsible mistress of a vast household. She preceded the girl tothe parlour, and as they passed the open door of Mr. Povey'scutting-out room, Constance had the clear vision and titillatingodour of her husband smoking a cigar. He was in his shirt-sleeves,calmly cutting out, and Fan (the lady companion), at watch on thebench, yapped at the possible new servant.
"I think I shall try that girl," said she to Samuel at tea. Shesaid nothing as to the cigar; nor did he.
On the following evening, after supper, Mr. Povey burst out:
"I think I'll have a weed! You didn't know I smoked, did you?"
Thus Mr. Povey came out in his true colours as a blood, a blade,and a gay spark.
But dogs and cigars, disconcerting enough in their degree, were tothe signboard, when the signboard at last came, as skim milk is tohot brandy. It was the signboard that, more startlingly thananything else, marked the dawn of a new era in St. Luke's Square.Four men spent a day and a half in fixing it; they had ladders,ropes, and pulleys, and two of them dined on the flat lead roof ofthe projecting shop-windows. The signboard was thirty-five feetlong and two feet in depth; over its centre was a semicircle aboutthree feet in radius; this semicircle bore the legend, judiciouslydisposed, "S. Povey. Late." All the sign-board proper was devotedto the words, "John Baines," in gold letters a foot and a halfhigh, on a green ground.
The Square watched and wondered; and murmured: "Well, bless us!What next?"
It was agreed that in giving paramount importance to the name ofhis late father-in-law, Mr. Povey had displayed a very nicefeeling.
Some asked with glee: "What'll the old lady have to say?"
Constance asked herself this, but not with glee. When Constancewalked down the Square homewards, she could scarcely bear to lookat the sign; the thought of what her mother might say frightenedher. Her mother's first visit of state was imminent, and AuntHarriet was to accompany her. Constance felt almost sick as theday approached. When she faintly hinted her apprehensions toSamuel, he demanded, as if surprised--
"Haven't you mentioned it in one of your letters?"
"Oh NO!"
"If that's all," said he, with bravado, "I'll write and tell hermyself."