Daniel Deronda
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER XLVIII. Page 2
Gwendolen, indeed, had no feeling to spare in any effusiveness toward thecreature who had brought her relief. The passionate need of contradictionto Grandcourt's estimate of Deronda, a need which had blunted hersensibility to everything else, was no sooner satisfied than she wanted tobe gone. She began to be aware that she was out of place, and to dreadDeronda's seeing her. And once in the carriage again, she had the visionof what awaited her at home. When she drew up before the door in GrosvenorSquare, her husband was arriving with a cigar between his fingers. Hethrew it away and handed her out, accompanying her up-stairs. She turnedinto the drawing-room, lest he should follow her farther and give her noplace to retreat to; then she sat down with a weary air, taking off hergloves, rubbing her hand over her forehead, and making his presence asmuch of a cipher as possible. But he sat, too, and not far from her--justin front, where to avoid looking at him must have the emphasis of effort.
"May I ask where you have been at this extraordinary hour?" saidGrandcourt.
"Oh, yes; I have been to Miss Lapidoth's, to ask her to come and sing forus," said Gwendolen, laying her gloves on the little table beside her, andlooking down at them.
"And to ask her about her relations with Deronda?" said Grandcourt, withthe coldest possible sneer in his low voice which in poor Gwendolen's earwas diabolical.
For the first time since their marriage she flashed out upon him withoutinward check. Turning her eyes full on his she said, in a biting tone--
"Yes; and what you said is false--a low, wicked falsehood."
"She told you so--did she?" returned Grandcourt, with a more thoroughlydistilled sneer.
Gwendolen was mute. The daring anger within her was turned into the rageof dumbness. What reasons for her belief could she give? All the reasonsthat seemed so strong and living within her--she saw them suffocated andshrivelled up under her husband's breath. There was no proof to give, buther own impression, which would seem to him her own folly. She turned herhead quickly away from him and looked angrily toward the end of the room:she would have risen, but he was in her way.
Grandcourt saw his advantage. "It's of no consequence so far as hersinging goes," he said, in his superficial drawl. "You can have her tosing, if you like." Then, after a pause, he added in his lowest imperioustone, "But you will please to observe that you are not to go near thathouse again. As my wife, you must take my word about what is proper foryou. When you undertook to be Mrs. Grandcourt, you undertook not to make afool of yourself. You have been making a fool of yourself this morning;and if you were to go on as you have begun, you might soon get yourselftalked of at the clubs in a way you would not like. What do _you_ knowabout the world? You have married _me_, and must be guided by my opinion."
Every slow sentence of that speech had a terrific mastery in it forGwendolen's nature. If the low tones had come from a physician telling herthat her symptoms were those of a fatal disease, and prognosticating itscourse, she could not have been more helpless against the argument thatlay in it. But she was permitted to move now, and her husband never againmade any reference to what had occurred this morning. He knew the force ofhis own words. If this white-handed man with the perpendicular profile hadbeen sent to govern a difficult colony, he might have won reputation amonghis contemporaries. He had certainly ability, would have understood thatit was safer to exterminate than to cajole superseded proprietors, andwould not have flinched from making things safe in that way.
Gwendolen did not, for all this, part with her recovered faith;--rather,she kept it with a more anxious tenacity, as a Protestant of old kept hisbible hidden or a Catholic his crucifix, according to the side favored bythe civil arm; and it was characteristic of her that apart from theimpression gained concerning Deronda in that visit, her imagination waslittle occupied with Mirah or the eulogised brother. The one resultestablished for her was, that Deronda had acted simply as a generousbenefactor, and the phrase "reading Hebrew" had fleeted unimpressivelyacross her sense of hearing, as a stray stork might have made its peculiarflight across her landscape without rousing any surprised reflection onits natural history.
But the issue of that visit, as it regarded her husband, took a stronglyactive part in the process which made an habitual conflict within her, andwas the cause of some external change perhaps not observed by any oneexcept Deronda. As the weeks went on bringing occasional transientinterviews with her, he thought that he perceived in her an intensifyingof her superficial hardness and resolute display, which made her abruptbetrayals of agitation the more marked and disturbing to him.
In fact, she was undergoing a sort of discipline for the refractory which,as little as possible like conversion, bends half the self with a terriblestrain, and exasperates the unwillingness of the other half. Grandcourthad an active divination rather than discernment of refractoriness in her,and what had happened about Mirah quickened his suspicion that there wasan increase of it dependent on the occasions when she happened to seeDeronda: there was some "confounded nonsense" between them: he did notimagine it exactly as flirtation, and his imagination in other brancheswas rather restricted; but it was nonsense that evidently kept up a kindof simmering in her mind--an inward action which might become disagreeableoutward. Husbands in the old time are known to have suffered from athreatening devoutness in their wives, presenting itself firstindistinctly as oddity, and ending in that mild form of lunatic asylum, anunnery: Grandcourt had a vague perception of threatening moods inGwendolen which the unity between them in his views of marriage requiredhim peremptorily to check. Among the means he chose, one was peculiar, andwas less ably calculated than the speeches we have just heard.
He determined that she should know the main purport of the will he wasmaking, but he could not communicate this himself, because it involved thefact of his relation to Mrs. Glasher and her children; and that thereshould be any overt recognition of this between Gwendolen and himself wassupremely repugnant to him. Like all proud, closely-wrapped natures, heshrank from explicitness and detail, even on trivialities, if they werepersonal: a valet must maintain a strict reserve with him on the subjectof shoes and stockings. And clashing was intolerable to him; his habitualwant was to put collision out of the question by the quiet massivepressure of his rule. But he wished Gwendolen to know that before he madeher an offer it was no secret to him that she was aware of his relationswith Lydia, her previous knowledge being the apology for bringing thesubject before her now. Some men in his place might have thought ofwriting what he wanted her to know, in the form of a letter. ButGrandcourt hated writing: even writing a note was a bore to him, and hehad long been accustomed to have all his writing done by Lush. We knowthat there are persons who will forego their own obvious interest ratherthan do anything so disagreeable as to write letters; and it is notprobable that these imperfect utilitarians would rush into manuscript andsyntax on a difficult subject in order to save another's feelings. ToGrandcourt it did not even occur that he should, would, or could write toGwendolen the information in question; and the only medium ofcommunication he could use was Lush, who, to his mind, was as much of animplement as pen and paper. But here too Grandcourt had his reserves, andwould not have uttered a word likely to encourage Lush in an impudentsympathy with any supposed grievance in a marriage which had beendiscommended by him. Who that has a confidant escapes believing too littlein his penetration, and too much in his discretion? Grandcourt had alwaysallowed Lush to know his external affairs indiscriminately--irregularities, debts, want of ready money; he had only useddiscrimination about what he would allow his confidant to say to him; andhe had been so accustomed to this human tool, that the having him at callin London was a recovery of lost ease. It followed that Lush knew all theprovisions of the will more exactly than they were known to the testatorhimself.
Grandcourt did not doubt that Gwendolen, since she was a woman who couldput two and two together, knew or suspected Lush to be the contriver ofher interview with Lydia, and that this was the reason why her firstrequest was for his banishment. But the bent of a woman's inferences onmixed subjects which excites mixed passions is not determined by hercapacity for simple addition; and here Grandcourt lacked the only organ ofthinking that could have saved him from mistake--namely, some experienceof the mixed passions concerned. He had correctly divined one-half ofGwendolen's dread--all that related to her personal pride, and herperception that his will must conquer hers; but the remorseful half, evenif he had known of her broken promise, was as much out of his imaginationas the other side of the moon. What he believed her to feel about Lydiawas solely a tongue-tied jealousy, and what he believed Lydia to havewritten with the jewels was the fact that she had once been used towearing them, with other amenities such as he imputed to the intercoursewith jealous women. He had the triumphant certainty that he couldaggravate the jealousy and yet smite it with a more absolute dumbness. Hisobject was to engage all his wife's egoism on the same side as his own,and in his employment of Lush he did not intend an insult to her: sheought to understand that he was the only possible envoy. Grandcourt's viewof things was considerably fenced in by his general sense, that whatsuited him others must put up with. There is no escaping the fact thatwant of sympathy condemns us to corresponding stupidity. Mephistophelesthrown upon real life, and obliged to manage his own plots, wouldinevitably make blunders.
One morning he went to Gwendolen in the boudoir beyond the back drawing-room, hat and gloves in hand, and said with his best-tempered, mostpersuasive drawl, standing before her and looking down on her as she satwith a book on her lap--
"A--Gwendolen, there's some business about property to be explained. Ihave told Lush to come and explain it to you. He knows all about thesethings. I am going out. He can come up now. He's the only person who canexplain. I suppose you'll not mind."
"You know that I do mind," said Gwendolen, angrily, starting up. "I shallnot see him." She showed the intention to dart away to the door.Grandcourt was before her, with his back toward it. He was prepared forher anger, and showed none in return, saying, with the same sort ofremonstrant tone that he might have used about an objection to diningout--
"It's no use making a fuss. There are plenty of brutes in the world thatone has to talk to. People with any _savoir vivre_ don't make a fuss aboutsuch things. Some business must be done. You can't expect agreeable peopleto do it. If I employ Lush, the proper thing for you is to take it as amatter of course. Not to make a fuss about it. Not to toss your head andbite your lips about people of that sort."
The drawling and the pauses with which this speech was uttered gave timefor crowding reflections in Gwendolen, quelling her resistance. What wasthere to be told her about property? This word had certain dominantassociations for her, first with her mother, then with Mrs. Glasher andher children. What would be the use if she refused to see Lush? Could sheask Grandcourt to tell her himself? That might be intolerable, even if heconsented, which it was certain he would not, if he had made up his mindto the contrary. The humiliation of standing an obvious prisoner, with herhusband barring the door, was not to be borne any longer, and she turnedaway to lean against a cabinet, while Grandcourt again moved toward her.
"I have arranged for Lush to come up now, while I am out," he said, aftera long organ stop, during which Gwendolen made no sign. "Shall I tell himhe may come?"
Yet another pause before she could say "Yes"--her face turned obliquelyand her eyes cast down.
"I shall come back in time to ride, if you like to get ready," saidGrandcourt. No answer. "She is in a desperate rage," thought he. But therage was silent, and therefore not disagreeable to him. It followed thathe turned her chin and kissed her, while she still kept her eyelids down,and she did not move them until he was on the other side of the door.
What was she to do? Search where she would in her consciousness, she foundno plea to justify a plaint. Any romantic allusions she had had inmarrying this man had turned on her power of using him as she liked. Hewas using her as he liked.
She sat awaiting the announcement of Lush as a sort of searing operationthat she had to go through. The facts that galled her gathered a burningpower when she thought of their lying in his mind. It was all a part ofthat new gambling, in which the losing was not simply a _minus_, but aterrible _plus_ that had never entered into her reckoning.
Lush was neither quite pleased nor quite displeased with his task.Grandcourt had said to him by way of conclusion, "Don't make yourself moredisagreeable than nature obliges you."
"That depends," thought Lush. But he said, "I will write a brief abstractfor Mrs. Grandcourt to read." He did not suggest that he should make thewhole communication in writing, which was a proof that the interview didnot wholly displease him.
Some provision was being made for himself in the will, and he had noreason to be in a bad humor, even if a bad humor had been common with him.He was perfectly convinced that he had penetrated all the secrets of thesituation; but he had no diabolical delight in it. He had only the smallmovements of gratified self-loving resentment in discerning that thismarriage had fulfilled his own foresight in not being as satisfactory asthe supercilious young lady had expected it to be, and as Grandcourtwished to feign that it was. He had no persistent spite much stronger thanwhat gives the seasoning of ordinary scandal to those who repeat it andexaggerate it by their conjectures. With no active compassion or good-will, he had just as little active malevolence, being chiefly occupied inliking his particular pleasures, and not disliking anything but whathindered those pleasures--everything else ranking with the last murder andthe last _opéra bouffe_, under the head of things to talk about.Nevertheless, he was not indifferent to the prospect of being treateduncivilly by a beautiful woman, or to the counter-balancing fact that hispresent commission put into his hands an official power of humiliatingher. He did not mean to use it needlessly; but there are some persons sogifted in relation to us that their "How do you do?" seems charged withoffense.
By the time that Mr. Lush was announced, Gwendolen had braced herself to abitter resolve that he should not witness the slightest betrayal of herfeeling, whatever he might have to tell. She invited him to sit down withstately quietude. After all, what was this man to her? He was not in theleast like her husband. Her power of hating a coarse, familiar-manneredman, with clumsy hands, was now relaxed by the intensity with which shehated his contrast.
He held a small paper folded in his hand while he spoke.
"I need hardly say that I should not have presented myself if Mr.Grandcourt had not expressed a strong wish to that effect--as no doubt hehas mentioned to you."
From some voices that speech might have sounded entirely reverential, andeven timidly apologetic. Lush had no intention to the contrary, but toGwendolen's ear his words had as much insolence in them as his prominenteyes, and the pronoun "you" was too familiar. He ought to have addressedthe folding-screen, and spoke of her as Mrs. Grandcourt. She gave thesmallest sign of a bow, and Lush went on, with a little awkwardness,getting entangled in what is elegantly called tautology.
"My having been in Mr. Grandcourt's confidence for fifteen years or more--since he was a youth, in fact--of course gives me a peculiar position. Hecan speak to me of affairs that he could not mention to any one else; and,in fact, he could not have employed any one else in this affair. I haveaccepted the task out of friendship for him. Which is my apology foraccepting the task--if you would have preferred some one else."
He paused, but she made no sign, and Lush, to give himself a countenancein an apology which met no acceptance, opened the folded paper, and lookedat it vaguely before he began to speak again.
"This paper contains some information about Mr. Grandcourt's will, anabstract of a part he wished you to know--if you'll be good enough to castyour eyes over it. But there is something I had to say by way ofintroduction--which I hope you'll pardon me for, if it's not quiteagreeable." Lush found that he was behaving better than he had expected,and had no idea how insulting he made himself with his "not quiteagreeable."
"Say what you have to say without apologizing, please," said Gwendolen,with the air she might have bestowed on a dog-stealer come to claim areward for finding the dog he had stolen.
"I have only to remind you of something that occurred before yourengagement to Mr. Grandcourt," said Lush, not without the rise of somewilling insolence in exchange for her scorn. "You met a lady in CardellChase, if you remember, who spoke to you of her position with regard toMr. Grandcourt. She had children with her--one a very fine boy."
Gwendolen's lips were almost as pale as her cheeks; her passion had noweapons--words were no better than chips. This man's speech was like asharp knife-edge drawn across her skin: but even her indignation at theemployment of Lush was getting merged in a crowd of other feelings, dimand alarming as a crowd of ghosts.
"Mr. Grandcourt was aware that you were acquainted with this unfortunateaffair beforehand, and he thinks it only right that his position andintentions should be made quite clear to you. It is an affair of propertyand prospects; and if there were any objection you had to make, if youwould mention it to me--it is a subject which of course he would rathernot speak about himself--if you will be good enough just to read this."With the last words Lush rose and presented the paper to her.
When Gwendolen resolved that she would betray no feeling in the presenceof this man, she had not prepared herself to hear that her husband knewthe silent consciousness, the silently accepted terms on which she hadmarried him. She dared not raise her hand to take the paper, least itshould visibly tremble. For a moment Lush stood holding it toward her, andshe felt his gaze on her as ignominy, before she could say even with low-toned haughtiness--
"Lay it on the table. And go into the next room, please."