老妇人的故事 英文版The Old Wives' Tale
阿诺德.本涅特 Arnold Bennett
II
"Forty next birthday!" Mr. Povey exclaimed one day, with anexpression and in a tone that were at once mock-serious andserious. This was on his thirty-ninth birthday.
Constance was startled. She had, of course, been aware that theywere getting older, but she had never realized the phenomenon.Though customers occasionally remarked that Mr. Povey was stouter,and though when she helped him to measure himself for a new suitof clothes the tape proved the fact, he had not changed for her.She knew that she too had become somewhat stouter; but forherself, she remained exactly the same Constance. Only byrecalling dates and by calculations could she really grasp thatshe had been married a little over six years and not a little oversix months. She had to admit that, if Samuel would be forty nextbirthday, she would be twenty-seven next birthday. But it wouldnot be a real twenty-seven; nor would Sam's forty be a real forty,like other people's twenty-sevens and forties. Not long since shehad been in the habit of regarding a man of forty as senile, aspractically in his grave.
She reflected, and the more she reflected the more clearly she sawthat after all the almanacs had not lied. Look at Fan! Yes, itmust be five years since the memorable morning when doubt firstcrossed the minds of Samuel and Constance as to Fan's moralprinciples. Samuel's enthusiasm for dogs was equalled by hisignorance of the dangers to which a young female of temperamentmay be exposed, and he was much disturbed as doubt developed intocertainty. Fan, indeed, was the one being who did not suffer fromshock and who had no fears as to the results. The animal, having apure mind, was bereft of modesty. Sundry enormities had shecommitted, but none to rank with this one! The result was fourquadrupeds recognizable as fox-terriers. Mr. Povey breathed again.Fan had had more luck than she deserved, for the result might havebeen simply anything. Her owners forgave her and disposed of thesefruits of iniquity, and then married her lawfully to a husband whowas so high up in the world that he could demand a dowry. And nowFan was a grandmother, with fixed ideas and habits, and a son inthe house, and various grandchildren scattered over the town. Fanwas a sedate and disillusioned dog. She knew the world as it was,and in learning it she had taught her owners above a bit.
Then there was Maggie Hollins. Constance could still vividlyrecall the self-consciousness with which she had one day receivedMaggie and the heir of the Hollinses; but it was a long time ago.After staggering half the town by the production of this infant(of which she nearly died) Maggie allowed the angels to waft itaway to heaven, and everybody said that she ought to be verythankful--at her age. Old women dug up out of their mindsforgotten histories of the eccentricities of the goddess Lucina.Mrs. Baines was most curiously interested; she talked freely toConstance, and Constance began to see what an incredible townBursley had always been--and she never suspected it! Maggie wasnow mother of other children, and the draggled, lame mistress of adrunken home, and looked sixty. Despite her prophecy, her husbandhad conserved his 'habits.' The Poveys ate all the fish theycould, and sometimes more than they enjoyed, because on his soberdays Hollins invariably started his round at the shop, andConstance had to buy for Maggie's sake. The worst of the worthlesshusband was that he seldom failed to be cheery and polite. Henever missed asking after the health of Mrs. Baines. And whenConstance replied that her mother was 'pretty well considering,'but that she would not come over to Bursley again until the Axerailway was opened, as she could not stand the drive, he wouldshake his grey head and be sympathetically gloomy for an instant.
All these changes in six years! The almanacs were in the right ofit.
But nothing had happened to her. Gradually she had obtained a sureascendency over her mother, yet without seeking it, merely as theoutcome of time's influences on her and on her motherrespectively. Gradually she had gained skill and use in themanagement of her household and of her share of the shop, so thatthese machines ran smoothly and effectively and a suddencontretemps no longer frightened her. Gradually she hadconstructed a chart of Samuel's individuality, with the submergedrocks and perilous currents all carefully marked, so that shecould now voyage unalarmed in those seas. But nothing happened.Unless their visits to Buxton could be called happenings!Decidedly the visit to Buxton was the one little hill that roseout of the level plain of the year. They had formed the annualhabit of going to Buxton for ten days. They had a way of saying:"Yes, we always go to Buxton. We went there for our honeymoon, youknow." They had become confirmed Buxtonites, with views concerningSt. Anne's Terrace, the Broad Walk and Peel's Cavern. They couldnot dream of deserting their Buxton. It was the sole possibleresort. Was it not the highest town in England? Well, then! Theyalways stayed at the same lodgings, and grew to be specialfavourites of the landlady, who whispered of them to all her otherguests as having come to her house for their honeymoon, and asnever missing a year, and as being most respectable, superiorpeople in quite a large way of business. Each year they walked outof Buxton station behind their luggage on a truck, full of joy andpride because they knew all the landmarks, and the lie of all thestreets, and which were the best shops.
At the beginning, the notion of leaving the shop to hired custodyhad seemed almost fantastic, and the preparations for absence hadbeen very complicated. Then it was that Miss Insull had detachedherself from the other young lady assistants as a creature whocould be absolutely trusted. Miss Insull was older than Constance;she had a bad complexion, and she was not clever, but she was oneof your reliable ones. The six years had witnessed the slow,steady rise of Miss Insull. Her employers said 'Miss Insull' in atone quite different from that in which they said 'Miss Hawkins,'or 'Miss Dadd.' 'Miss Insull' meant the end of a discussion.'Better tell Miss Insull.' 'Miss Insull will see to that.' 'Ishall ask Miss Insull.' Miss Insull slept in the house ten nightsevery year. Miss Insull had been called into consultation when itwas decided to engage a fourth hand in the shape of an apprentice.
Trade had improved in the point of excellence. It was now admittedto be good--a rare honour for trade! The coal-mining boom was atits height, and colliers, in addition to getting drunk, werebuying American organs and expensive bull-terriers. Often theywould come to the shop to purchase cloth for coats for their dogs.And they would have good cloth. Mr. Povey did not like this. Oneday a butty chose for his dog the best cloth of Mr. Povey's shop--at 12s. a yard. "Will ye make it up? I've gotten th'measurements," asked the collier. "No, I won't!" said Mr. Povey,hotly. "And what's more, I won't sell you the cloth either! Clothat 12s. a yard on a dog's back indeed! I'll thank you to get outof my shop!" The incident became historic, in the Square. Itfinally established that Mr. Povey was a worthy son-in-law and asolid and successful man. It vindicated the old pre-eminence of"Baines's." Some surprise was expressed that Mr. Povey showed nodesire nor tendency towards entering the public life of the town.But he never would, though a keen satirical critic of the LocalBoard in private. And at the chapel he remained a simple privateworshipper, refusing stewardships and trusteeships.