Daniel Deronda
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER XXXI.
"A wild dedication of yourselvesTo unpath'd waters, undreamed shores."--SHAKESPEARE.
On the day when Gwendolen Harleth was married and became Mrs. Grandcourt,the morning was clear and bright, and while the sun was low a slight frostcrisped the leaves. The bridal party was worth seeing, and half Pennicoteturned out to see it, lining the pathway up to the church. An old friendof the rector's performed the marriage ceremony, the rector himself actingas father, to the great advantage of the procession. Only two faces, itwas remarked, showed signs of sadness--Mrs. Davilow's and Anna's. Themother's delicate eyelids were pink, as if she had been crying half thenight; and no one was surprised that, splendid as the match was, sheshould feel the parting from a daughter who was the flower of her childrenand of her own life. It was less understood why Anna should be troubledwhen she was being so well set off by the bridesmaid's dress. Every oneelse seemed to reflect the brilliancy of the occasion--the bride most ofall. Of her it was agreed that as to figure and carriage she was worthy tobe a "lady o' title": as to face, perhaps it might be thought that a titlerequired something more rosy; but the bridegroom himself not being fresh-colored--being indeed, as the miller's wife observed, very much of her ownhusband's complexion--the match was the more complete. Anyhow he must bevery fond of her; and it was to be hoped that he would never cast it up toher that she had been going out to service as a governess, and her motherto live at Sawyer's Cottage--vicissitudes which had been much spoken of inthe village. The miller's daughter of fourteen could not believe that highgentry behaved badly to their wives, but her mother instructed her--"Oh,child, men's men: gentle or simple, they're much of a muchness. I've heardmy mother say Squire Pelton used to take his dogs and a long whip into hiswife's room, and flog 'em there to frighten her; and my mother was lady's-maid there at the very time."
"That's unlucky talk for a wedding, Mrs. Girdle," said the tailor. "Aquarrel may end wi' the whip, but it begins wi' the tongue, and it's thewomen have got the most o' that."
"The Lord gave it 'em to use, I suppose," said Mrs. Girdle. "_He_ nevermeant you to have it all your own way."
"By what I can make out from the gentleman as attends to the grooming atOffendene," said the tailor, "this Mr. Grandcourt has wonderful littletongue. Everything must be done dummy-like without his ordering."
"Then he's the more whip, I doubt," said Mrs. Girdle. "_She's_ got tongueenough, I warrant her. See, there they come out together!"
"What wonderful long corners she's got to her eyes!" said the tailor. "Shemakes you feel comical when she looks at you."
Gwendolen, in fact, never showed more elasticity in her bearing, morelustre in her long brown glance: she had the brilliancy of strongexcitement, which will sometimes come even from pain. It was not pain,however, that she was feeling: she had wrought herself up to much the samecondition as that in which she stood at the gambling-table when Derondawas looking at her, and she began to lose. There was an enjoyment in it:whatever uneasiness a growing conscience had created was disregarded as anailment might have been, amidst the gratification of that ambitious vanityand desire for luxury within her which it would take a great deal of slowpoisoning to kill. This morning she could not have said truly that sherepented her acceptance of Grandcourt, or that any fears in hazyperspective could hinder the glowing effect of the immediate scene inwhich she was the central object. That she was doing something wrong--thata punishment might be hanging over her--that the woman to whom she hadgiven a promise and broken it, was thinking of her in bitterness andmisery with a just reproach--that Deronda with his way of looking intothings very likely despised her for marrying Grandcourt, as he haddespised her for gambling--above all, that the cord which united her withthis lover and which she had heretofore held by the hand, was now beingflung over her neck,--all this yeasty mingling of dimly understood factswith vague but deep impressions, and with images half real, halffantastic, had been disturbing her during the weeks of her engagement. Wasthat agitating experience nullified this morning? No: it was surmountedand thrust down with a sort of exulting defiance as she felt herselfstanding at the game of life with many eyes upon her, daring everything towin much--or if to lose, still with _éclat_ and a sense of importance. Butthis morning a losing destiny for herself did not press upon her as afear: she thought that she was entering on a fuller power of managingcircumstances--with all the official strength of marriage, which somewomen made so poor a use of. That intoxication of youthful egoism out ofwhich she had been shaken by trouble, humiliation, and a new sense ofculpability, had returned upon her under a newly-fed strength of the oldfumes. She did not in the least present the ideal of the tearful,tremulous bride. Poor Gwendolen, whom some had judged much too forward andinstructed in the world's ways!--with her erect head and elastic footstepshe was walking among illusions; and yet, too, there was an under-consciousness of her that she was a little intoxicated.
"Thank God you bear it so well, my darling!" said Mrs. Davilow, when shehad helped Gwendolen to doff her bridal white and put on her travelingdress. All the trembling had been done by the poor mother, and heragitation urged Gwendolen doubly to take the morning as if it were atriumph.
"Why, you might have said that, if I had been going to Mrs. Mompert's, youdear, sad, incorrigible mamma!" said Gwendolen just putting her hands toher mother's cheeks with laughing tenderness--then retreating a little andspreading out her arms as if to exhibit herself: "Here am I--Mrs.Grandcourt! what else would you have me, but what I am sure to be? Youknow you were ready to die with vexation when you thought that I would notbe Mrs. Grandcourt."
"Hush, hush, my child, for heaven's sake!" said Mrs. Davilow, almost in awhisper. "How can I help feeling it when I am parting from you. But I canbear anything gladly if you are happy."
"Not gladly, mamma, no!" said Gwendolen, shaking her head, with a brightsmile. "Willingly you would bear it, but always sorrowfully. Sorrowing isyour sauce; you can take nothing without it." Then, clasping her mother'sshoulders and raining kisses first on one cheek and then on the otherbetween her words, she said, gaily, "And you shall sorrow over my havingeverything at my beck---and enjoying everything glorious--splendid houses--and horses--and diamonds, I shall have diamonds--and going to court--andbeing Lady Certainly--and Lady Perhaps--and grand here--and tantivy there--and always loving you better than anybody else in the world."
"My sweet child!--But I shall not be jealous if you love your husbandbetter; and he will expect to be first."
Gwendolen thrust out her lips and chin with a pretty grimace, saying,"Rather a ridiculous expectation. However, I don't mean to treat him ill,unless he deserves it."
Then the two fell into a clinging embrace, and Gwendolen could not hindera rising sob when she said, "I wish you were going with me, mamma."
But the slight dew on her long eyelashes only made her the more charmingwhen she gave her hand to Grandcourt to be led to the carriage.
The rector looked in on her to give a final "Good-bye; God bless you; weshall see you again before long," and then returned to Mrs. Davilow,saying half cheerfully, half solemnly--
"Let us be thankful, Fanny. She is in a position well suited to her, andbeyond what I should have dared to hope for. And few women can have beenchosen more entirely for their own sake. You should feel yourself a happymother."
* * * * *
There was a railway journey of some fifty miles before the new husband andwife reached the station near Ryelands. The sky had veiled itself sincethe morning, and it was hardly more than twilight when they entered thepark-gates, but still Gwendolen, looking out of the carriage-window asthey drove rapidly along, could see the grand outlines and the nearerbeauties of the scene--the long winding drive bordered with evergreensbacked by huge gray stems: then the opening of wide grassy spaces andundulations studded with dark clumps; till at last came a wide level wherethe white house could be seen, with a hanging wood for a back-ground, andthe rising and sinking balustrade of a terrace in front.
Gwendolen had been at her liveliest during the journey, chattingincessantly, ignoring any change in their mutual position since yesterday;and Grandcourt had been rather ecstatically quiescent, while she turnedhis gentle seizure of her hand into a grasp of his hand by both hers, withan increased vivacity as of a kitten that will not sit quiet to be petted.She was really getting somewhat febrile in her excitement; and now in thisdrive through the park her usual susceptibility to changes of light andscenery helped to make her heart palpitate newly. Was it at the noveltysimply, or the almost incredible fulfilment about to be given to hergirlish dreams of being "somebody"--walking through her own furlong ofcorridor and under her own ceilings of an out-of-sight loftiness, whereher own painted Spring was shedding painted flowers, and her own fore-shortened Zephyrs were blowing their trumpets over her; while her ownservants, lackeys in clothing but men in bulk and shape, were as nought inher presence, and revered the propriety of her insolence to them:--beingin short the heroine of an admired play without the pains of art? Was italone the closeness of this fulfilment which made her heart flutter? orwas it some dim forecast, the insistent penetration of suppressedexperience, mixing the expectation of a triumph with the dread of acrisis? Hers was one of the natures in which exultation inevitablycarries an infusion of dread ready to curdle and declare itself.
She fell silent in spite of herself as they approached the gates, and whenher husband said, "Here we are at home!" and for the first time kissed heron the lips, she hardly knew of it: it was no more than the passiveacceptance of a greeting in the midst of an absorbing show. Was not allher hurrying life of the last three months a show, in which herconsciousness was a wondering spectator? After the half-willful excitementof the day, a numbness had come over her personality.
But there was a brilliant light in the hall--warmth, matting, carpets,full-length portraits, Olympian statues, assiduous servants. Not manyservants, however: only a few from Diplow in addition to those constantlyin charge of the house; and Gwendolen's new maid, who had come with her,was taken under guidance by the housekeeper. Gwendolen felt herself beingled by Grandcourt along a subtly-scented corridor, into an ante-room whereshe saw an open doorway sending out a rich glow of light and color.
"These are our dens," said Grandcourt. "You will like to be quiet heretill dinner. We shall dine early."
He pressed her hand to his lips and moved away, more in love than he hadever expected to be.
Gwendolen, yielded up her hat and mantle, threw herself into a chair bythe glowing hearth, and saw herself repeated in glass panels with all herfaint-green satin surroundings. The housekeeper had passed into thisboudoir from the adjoining dressing-room and seemed disposed to linger,Gwendolen thought, in order to look at the new mistress of Ryelands, who,however, being impatient for solitude said to her, "Will you tell Hudsonwhen she has put out my dress to leave everything? I shall not want heragain, unless I ring."
The housekeeper, coming forward, said, "Here is a packet, madam, which Iwas ordered to give into nobody's hands but yours, when you were alone.The person who brought it said it was a present particularly ordered byMr. Grandcourt; but he was not to know of its arrival till he saw you wearit. Excuse me, madam; I felt it right to obey orders."
Gwendolen took the packet and let it lie on her lap till she heard thedoors close. It came into her mind that the packet might contain thediamonds which Grandcourt had spoken of as being deposited somewhere andto be given to her on her marriage. In this moment of confused feeling andcreeping luxurious languor she was glad of this diversion--glad of such anevent as having her own diamonds to try on.
Within all the sealed paper coverings was a box, but within the box there_was_ a jewel-case; and now she felt no doubt that she had the diamonds.But on opening the case, in the same instant that she saw them gleam shesaw a letter lying above them. She knew the handwriting of the address. Itwas as if an adder had lain on them. Her heart gave a leap which seemed tohave spent all her strength; and as she opened the bit of thin paper, itshook with the trembling of her hands. But it was legible as print, andthrust its words upon her.
These diamonds, which were once given with ardent love to LydiaGlasher, she passes on to you. You have broken your word to her, thatyou might possess what was hers. Perhaps you think of being happy, asshe once was, and of having beautiful children such as hers, who willthrust hers aside. God is too just for that. The man you have marriedhas a withered heart. His best young love was mine: you could not takethat from me when you took the rest. It is dead: but I am the gravein which your chance of happiness is buried as well as mine. You hadyour warning. You have chosen to injure me and my children. He hadmeant to marry me. He would have married me at last, if you had notbroken your word. You will have your punishment. I desire it with allmy soul.
Will you give him this letter to set him against me and ruin us more--me and my children? Shall you like to stand before your husband withthese diamonds on you, and these words of mine in his thoughts andyours? Will he think you have any right to complain when he has madeyou miserable? You took him with your eyes open. The willing wrong youhave done me will be your curse.
It seemed at first as if Gwendolen's eyes were spell-bound in reading thehorrible words of the letter over and over again as a doom of penance; butsuddenly a new spasm of terror made her lean forward and stretch out thepaper toward the fire, lest accusation and proof at once should meet alleyes. It flew like a feather from her trembling fingers and was caught upin a great draught of flame. In her movement the casket fell on the floorand the diamonds rolled out. She took no notice, but fell back in herchair again helpless. She could not see the reflections of herself then;they were like so many women petrified white; but coming near herself youmight have seen the tremor in her lips and hands. She sat so for a longwhile, knowing little more than that she was feeling ill, and that thosewritten words kept repeating themselves to her.
Truly here were poisoned gems, and the poison had entered into this pooryoung creature.
After that long while, there was a tap at the door and Grandcourt entered,dressed for dinner. The sight of him brought a new nervous shock, andGwendolen screamed again and again with hysterical violence. He hadexpected to see her dressed and smiling, ready to be led down. He saw herpallid, shrieking as it seemed with terror, the jewels scattered aroundher on the floor. Was it a fit of madness?
In some form or other the furies had crossed his threshold.