Daniel Deronda
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER XXIX. Page 2
What was he going to be? What sort of life had he before him--he beingnothing of any consequence? And with only a little difference in events hemight have been as important as Grandcourt, nay--her imaginationinevitably went into that direction--might have held the very estateswhich Grandcourt was to have. But now, Deronda would probably some day seeher mistress of the Abbey at Topping, see her bearing the title whichwould have been his own wife's. These obvious, futile thoughts of whatmight have been, made a new epoch for Gwendolen. She, whose unquestionablehabit it had been to take the best that came to her for less than her ownclaim, had now to see the position which tempted her in a new light, as ahard, unfair exclusion of others. What she had now heard about Derondaseemed to her imagination to throw him into one group with Mrs. Glasherand her children; before whom she felt herself in an attitude of apology--she who had hitherto been surrounded by a group that in her opinion hadneed be apologetic to her. Perhaps Deronda himself was thinking of thesethings. Could he know of Mrs. Glasher? If he knew that she knew, he woulddespise her; but he could have no such knowledge. Would he, without that,despise her for marrying Grandcourt? His possible judgment of her actionswas telling on her as importunately as Klesmer's judgment of her powers;but she found larger room for resistance to a disapproval of her marriage,because it is easier to make our conduct seem justifiable to ourselvesthan to make our ability strike others. "How can I help it?" is not ourfavorite apology for incompetency. But Gwendolen felt some strength insaying--
"How can I help what other people have done? Things would not come rightif I were to turn round now and declare that I would not marry Mr.Grandcourt." And such turning round was out of the question. The horses inthe chariot she had mounted were going at full speed.
This mood of youthful, elated desperation had a tidal recurrence. Shecould dare anything that lay before her sooner than she could choose to gobackward, into humiliation; and it was even soothing to think that therewould now be as much ill-doing in the one as in the other. But theimmediate delightful fact was the hunt, where she would see Deronda, andwhere he would see her; for always lurking ready to obtrude before otherthoughts about him was the impression that he was very much interested inher. But to-day she was resolved not to repeat her folly of yesterday, asif she were anxious to say anything to him. Indeed, the hunt would be tooabsorbing.
And so it was for a long while. Deronda was there, and within her sightvery often; but this only added to the stimulus of a pleasure whichGwendolen had only once before tasted, and which seemed likely always togive a delight independent of any crosses, except such as took away thechance of riding. No accident happened to throw them together; the runtook them within convenient reach of home, and the agreeable sombreness ofthe gray November afternoon, with a long stratum of yellow light in thewest, Gwendolen was returning with the company from Diplow, who wereattending her on the way to Offendene. Now the sense of gloriousexcitement was over and gone, she was getting irritably disappointed thatshe had had no opportunity of speaking to Deronda, whom she would not seeagain, since he was to go away in a couple of days. What was she going tosay? That was not quite certain. She wanted to speak to him. Grandcourtwas by her side; Mrs. Torrington, her husband, and another gentleman inadvance; and Deronda's horse she could hear behind. The wish to speak tohim and have him speaking to her was becoming imperious; and there was nochance of it unless she simply asserted her will and defied everything.Where the order of things could give way to Miss Gwendolen, it must bemade to do so. They had lately emerged from a wood of pines and beeches,where the twilight stillness had a repressing effect, which increased herimpatience. The horse-hoofs again heard behind at some little distancewere a growing irritation. She reined in her horse and looked behind her;Grandcourt after a few paces, also paused; but she, waving her whip andnodding sideways with playful imperiousness, said, "Go on! I want to speakto Mr. Deronda."
Grandcourt hesitated; but that he would have done after any proposition.It was an awkward situation for him. No gentleman, before marriage; couldgive the emphasis of refusal to a command delivered in this playful way.He rode on slowly, and she waited till Deronda came up. He looked at herwith tacit inquiry, and she said at once, letting her horse go alongsideof his--
"Mr. Deronda, you must enlighten my ignorance. I want to know why youthought it wrong for me to gamble. Is it because I am a woman?"
"Not altogether; but I regretted it the more because you were a woman,"said Deronda, with an irrepressible smile. Apparently it must beunderstood between them now that it was he who sent the necklace. "I thinkit would be better for men not to gamble. It is a besotting kind of taste,likely to turn into a disease. And, besides, there is something revoltingto me in raking a heap of money together, and internally chuckling overit, when others are feeling the loss of it. I should even call it base, ifit were more than an exceptional lapse. There are enough inevitable turnsof fortune which force us to see that our gain is another's loss:--that isone of the ugly aspects of life. One would like to reduce it as much asone could, not get amusement out of exaggerating it." Deronda's voice hadgathered some indignation while he was speaking.
"But you do admit that we can't help things," said Gwendolen, with a dropin her tone. The answer had not been anything like what she had expected."I mean that things are so in spite of us; we can't always help it thatour gain is another's loss."
"Clearly. Because of that, we should help it where we can."
Gwendolen, biting her lip inside, paused a moment, and then forcingherself to speak with an air of playfulness again, said--
"But why should you regret it more because I am a woman?"
"Perhaps because we need that you should be better than we are."
"But suppose _we_ need that men should be better than we are," saidGwendolen with a little air of "check!"
"That is rather a difficulty," said Deronda, smiling. "I suppose I shouldhave said, we each of us think it would be better for the other to begood."
"You see, I needed you to be better than I was--and you thought so," saidGwendolen, nodding and laughing, while she put her horse forward andjoined Grandcourt, who made no observation.
"Don't you want to know what I had to say to Mr. Deronda?" said Gwendolen,whose own pride required her to account for her conduct.
"A--no," said Grandcourt, coldly.
"Now that is the first impolite word you have spoken--that you don't wishto hear what I had to say," said Gwendolen, playing at a pout.
"Then you wish to hear this. I wanted to make him tell me why he objectedto my gambling, and he gave me a little sermon."
spoken--that you don't wishto hear what I had to say," said Gwendolen, playing.
"Yes--but excuse me the sermon." If Gwendolen imagined that Grandcourtcared about her speaking to Deronda, he wished her to understand that shewas mistaken. But he was not fond of being told to ride on. She saw he waspiqued, but did not mind. She had accomplished her object of speakingagain to Deronda before he raised his hat and turned with the rest towardDiplow, while her lover attended her to Offendene, where he was to bidfarewell before a whole day's absence on the unspecified journey.Grandcourt had spoken truth in calling the journey a bore: he was going bytrain to Gadsmere.