Daniel Deronda
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER VIII.
What name doth Joy most borrowWhen life is fair?"To-morrow."What name doth best fit SorrowIn young despair?"To-morrow."
There was a much more lasting trouble at the rectory. Rex arrived thereonly to throw himself on his bed in a state of apparent apathy, unbrokentill the next day, when it began to be interrupted by more positive signsof illness. Nothing could be said about his going to Southampton: insteadof that, the chief thought of his mother and Anna was how to tend thispatient who did not want to be well, and from being the brightest, mostgrateful spirit in the household, was metamorphosed into an irresponsive,dull-eyed creature who met all affectionate attempts with a murmur of "Letme alone." His father looked beyond the crisis, and believed it to be theshortest way out of an unlucky affair; but he was sorry for the inevitablesuffering, and went now and then to sit by him in silence for a fewminutes, parting with a gentle pressure of his hand on Rex's blank brow,and a "God bless you, my boy." Warham and the younger children used topeep round the edge of the door to see this incredible thing of theirlively brother being laid low; but fingers were immediately shaken at themto drive them back. The guardian who was always there was Anna, and herlittle hand was allowed to rest within her brother's, though he never gaveit a welcoming pressure. Her soul was divided between anguish for Rex andreproach of Gwendolen.
"Perhaps it is wicked of me, but I think I never _can_ love her again,"came as the recurrent burden of poor little Anna's inward monody. And evenMrs. Gascoigne had an angry feeling toward her niece which she could notrefrain from expressing (apologetically) to her husband.
"I know of course it is better, and we ought to be thankful that she isnot in love with the poor boy; but really. Henry, I think she is hard; shehas the heart of a coquette. I can not help thinking that she must havemade him believe something, or the disappointment would not have takenhold of him in that way. And some blame attaches to poor Fanny; she isquite blind about that girl."
Mr. Gascoigne answered imperatively: "The less said on that point thebetter, Nancy. I ought to have been more awake myself. As to the boy, bethankful if nothing worse ever happens to him. Let the thing die out asquickly as possible; and especially with regard to Gwendolen--let it be asif it had never been."
The rector's dominant feeling was that there had been a great escape.Gwendolen in love with Rex in return would have made a much harderproblem, the solution of which might have been taken out of his hands. Buthe had to go through some further difficulty.
One fine morning Rex asked for his bath, and made his toilet as usual.Anna, full of excitement at this change, could do nothing but listen forhis coming down, and at last hearing his step, ran to the foot of thestairs to meet him. For the first time he gave her a faint smile, but itlooked so melancholy on his pale face that she could hardly help crying.
"Nannie!" he said gently, taking her hand and leading her slowly alongwith him to the drawing-room. His mother was there, and when she came tokiss him, he said: "What a plague I am!"
Then he sat still and looked out of the bow-window on the lawn and shrubscovered with hoar-frost, across which the sun was sending faint occasionalgleams:--something like that sad smile on Rex's face, Anna thought. Hefelt as if he had had a resurrection into a new world, and did not knowwhat to do with himself there, the old interests being left behind. Annasat near him, pretending to work, but really watching him with yearninglooks. Beyond the garden hedge there was a road where wagons and cartssometimes went on field-work: a railed opening was made in the hedge,because the upland with its bordering wood and clump of ash-trees againstthe sky was a pretty sight. Presently there came along a wagon laden withtimber; the horses were straining their grand muscles, and the driverhaving cracked his whip, ran along anxiously to guide the leader's head,fearing a swerve. Rex seemed to be shaken into attention, rose and lookedtill the last quivering trunk of the timber had disappeared, and thenwalked once or twice along the room. Mrs. Gascoigne was no longer there,and when he came to sit down again, Anna, seeing a return of speech in herbrother's eyes, could not resist the impulse to bring a little stool andseat herself against his knee, looking up at him with an expression whichseemed to say, "Do speak to me." And he spoke.
"I'll tell you what I'm thinking of, Nannie. I will go to Canada, orsomewhere of that sort." (Rex had not studied the character of ourcolonial possessions.)
"Oh, Rex, not for always!"
"Yes, to get my bread there. I should like to build a hut, and work hardat clearing, and have everything wild about me, and a great wide quiet."
"And not take me with you?" said Anna, the big tears coming fast.
"How could I?"
"I should like it better than anything; and settlers go with theirfamilies. I would sooner go there than stay here in England. I could makethe fires, and mend the clothes, and cook the food; and I could learn howto make the bread before we went. It would be nicer than anything--likeplaying at life over again, as we used to do when we made our tent withthe drugget, and had our little plates and dishes."
"Father and mother would not let you go."
"Yes, I think they would, when I explained everything. It would savemoney; and papa would have more to bring up the boys with."
There was further talk of the same practical kind at intervals, and itended in Rex's being obliged to consent that Anna should go with him whenhe spoke to his father on the subject.
Of course it was when the rector was alone in his study. Their motherwould become reconciled to whatever he decided on, but mentioned to herfirst, the question would have distressed her.
"Well, my children!" said Mr. Gascoigne, cheerfully, as they entered. Itwas a comfort to see Rex about again.
"May we sit down with you a little, papa?" said Anna. "Rex has somethingto say."
"With all my heart."
It was a noticeable group that these three creatures made, each of themwith a face of the same structural type--the straight brow, the nosesuddenly straightened from an intention of being aquiline, the short upperlip, the short but strong and well-hung chin: there was even the same toneof complexion and set of the eye. The gray-haired father was at oncemassive and keen-looking; there was a perpendicular line in his brow whichwhen he spoke with any force of interest deepened; and the habit of rulinggave him an air of reserved authoritativeness. Rex would have seemed avision of his father's youth, if it had been possible to imagine Mr.Gascoigne without distinct plans and without command, smitten with a heartsorrow, and having no more notion of concealment than a sick animal; andAnna was a tiny copy of Rex, with hair drawn back and knotted, her facefollowing his in its changes of expression, as if they had one soulbetween them.
"You know all about what has upset me, father," Rex began, and Mr.Gascoigne nodded.
"I am quite done up for life in this part of the world. I am sure it willbe no use my going back to Oxford. I couldn't do any reading. I shouldfail, and cause you expense for nothing. I want to have your consent totake another course, sir."
Mr. Gascoigne nodded more slowly, the perpendicular line on his browdeepened, and Anna's trembling increased.
"If you would allow me a small outfit, I should like to go to the coloniesand work on the land there." Rex thought the vagueness of the phraseprudential; "the colonies" necessarily embracing more advantages, andbeing less capable of being rebutted on a single ground than anyparticular settlement.
"Oh, and with me, papa," said Anna, not bearing to be left out from theproposal even temporarily. "Rex would want some one to take care of him,you know--some one to keep house. And we shall never, either of us, bemarried. And I should cost nothing, and I should be so happy. I know itwould be hard to leave you and mamma; but there are all the others tobring up, and we two should be no trouble to you any more."
Anna had risen from her seat, and used the feminine argument of goingcloser to her papa as she spoke. He did not smile, but he drew her on hisknee and held her there, as if to put her gently out of the question whilehe spoke to Rex.
"You will admit that my experience gives me some power of judging for you,and that I can probably guide you in practical matters better than you canguide yourself?"
Rex was obliged to say, "Yes, sir."
"And perhaps you will admit--though I don't wish to press that point--thatyou are bound in duty to consider my judgment and wishes?"
"I have never yet placed myself in opposition to you, sir." Rex in hissecret soul could not feel that he was bound not to go to the colonies,but to go to Oxford again--which was the point in question.
"But you will do so if you persist in setting your mind toward a rash andfoolish procedure, and deafening yourself to considerations which myexperience of life assures me of. You think, I suppose, that you have hada shock which has changed all your inclinations, stupefied your brains,unfitted you for anything but manual labor, and given you a dislike tosociety? Is that what you believe?"
"Something like that. I shall never be up to the sort of work I must do tolive in this part of the world. I have not the spirit for it. I shallnever be the same again. And without any disrespect to you, father, Ithink a young fellow should be allowed to choose his way of life, if hedoes nobody any harm. There are plenty to stay at home, and those who likemight be allowed to go where there are empty places."
"But suppose I am convinced on good evidence--as I am--that this state ofmind of yours is transient, and that if you went off as you propose, youwould by-and-by repent, and feel that you had let yourself slip back fromthe point you have been gaining by your education till now? Have you notstrength of mind enough to see that you had better act on my assurance fora time, and test it? In my opinion, so far from agreeing with you that youshould be free to turn yourself into a colonist and work in your shirt-sleeves with spade and hatchet--in my opinion you have no right whateverto expatriate yourself until you have honestly endeavored to turn toaccount the education you have received here. I say nothing of the griefto your mother and me."
hada shock which has changed all your inclinations.
"I'm very sorry; but what can I do? I can't study--that's certain," saidRex.
"Not just now, perhaps. You will have to miss a term. I have madearrangements for you--how you are to spend the next two months. But Iconfess I am disappointed in you, Rex. I thought you had more sense thanto take up such ideas--to suppose that because you have fallen into a verycommon trouble, such as most men have to go through, you are loosened fromall bonds of duty--just as if your brain had softened and you were nolonger a responsible being."
What could Rex say? Inwardly he was in a state of rebellion, but he had noarguments to meet his father's; and while he was feeling, in spite of anything that might be said, that he should like to go off to "the colonies"to-morrow, it lay in a deep fold of his consciousness that he ought tofeel--if he had been a better fellow he would have felt--more about hisold ties. This is the sort of faith we live by in our soul sicknesses.
Rex got up from his seat, as if he held the conference to be at an end."You assent to my arrangement, then?" said Mr. Gascoigne, with thatdistinct resolution of tone which seems to hold one in a vise.
There was a little pause before Rex answered, "I'll try what I can do,sir. I can't promise." His thought was, that trying would be of no use.
Her father kept Anna, holding her fast, though she wanted to follow Rex."Oh, papa," she said, the tears coming with her words when the door hadclosed; "it is very hard for him. Doesn't he look ill?"
"Yes, but he will soon be better; it will all blow over. And now, Anna, beas quiet as a mouse about it all. Never let it be mentioned when he isgone."
"No, papa. But I would not be like Gwendolen for any thing--to have peoplefall in love with me so. It is very dreadful."
Anna dared not say that she was disappointed at not being allowed to go tothe colonies with Rex; but that was her secret feeling, and she oftenafterward went inwardly over the whole affair, saying to herself, "Ishould have done with going out, and gloves, and crinoline, and having totalk when I am taken to dinner--and all that!"
I like to mark the time, and connect the course of individual lives withthe historic stream, for all classes of thinkers. This was the period whenthe broadening of gauge in crinolines seemed to demand an agitation forthe general enlargement of churches, ball-rooms, and vehicles. But AnnaGascoigne's figure would only allow the size of skirt manufactured foryoung ladies of fourteen.