一双蓝眼睛 英文版 A Pair of Blue Eyes
托马斯.哈代 Thomas Hardy
Chapter XVI
'Then fancy shapes--as fancy can.'
On a day about three weeks later, the Swancourt trio were sittingquietly in the drawing-room of The Crags, Mrs. Swancourt's houseat Endelstow, chatting, and taking easeful survey of theirprevious month or two of town--a tangible weariness even to peoplewhose acquaintances there might be counted on the fingers.
A mere season in London with her practised step-mother had soadvanced Elfride's perceptions, that her courtship by Stephenseemed emotionally meagre, and to have drifted back several yearsinto a childish past. In regarding our mental experiences, as invisual observation, our own progress reads like a dwindling ofthat we progress from.
She was seated on a low chair, looking over her romance withmelancholy interest for the first time since she had becomeacquainted with the remarks of the PRESENT thereupon.
'Still thinking of that reviewer, Elfie?'
'Not of him personally; but I am thinking of his opinion. Really,on looking into the volume after this long time has elapsed, heseems to have estimated one part of it fairly enough.'
'No, no; I wouldn't show the white feather now! Fancy that of allpeople in the world the writer herself should go over to theenemy. How shall Monmouth's men fight when Monmouth runs away?'
'I don't do that. But I think he is right in some of hisarguments, though wrong in others. And because he has some claimto my respect I regret all the more that he should think somistakenly of my motives in one or two instances. It is morevexing to be misunderstood than to be misrepresented; and hemisunderstands me. I cannot be easy whilst a person goes to restnight after night attributing to me intentions I never had.'
'He doesn't know your name, or anything about you. And he hasdoubtless forgotten there is such a book in existence by thistime.'
'I myself should certainly like him to be put right upon one ortwo matters,' said the vicar, who had hitherto been silent. 'Yousee, critics go on writing, and are never corrected or arguedwith, and therefore are never improved.'
'Papa,' said Elfride brightening, 'write to him!'
'I would as soon write to him as look at him, for the matter ofthat,' said Mr. Swancourt.
'Do! And say, the young person who wrote the book did not adopt amasculine pseudonym in vanity or conceit, but because she wasafraid it would be thought presumptuous to publish her name, andthat she did not mean the story for such as he, but as a sweetenerof history for young people, who might thereby acquire a taste forwhat went on in their own country hundreds of years ago, and betempted to dive deeper into the subject. Oh, there is so much toexplain; I wish I might write myself!'
'Now, Elfie, I'll tell you what we will do,' answered Mr.Swancourt, tickled with a sort of bucolic humour at the idea ofcriticizing the critic. 'You shall write a clear account of whathe is wrong in, and I will copy it and send it as mine.'
'Yes, now, directly!' said Elfride, jumping up. 'When will yousend it, papa? '
'Oh, in a day or two, I suppose,' he returned. Then the vicarpaused and slightly yawned, and in the manner of elderly peoplebegan to cool from his ardour for the undertaking now that it cameto the point. 'But, really, it is hardly worth while,' he said.
'O papa!' said Elfride, with much disappointment. 'You said youwould, and now you won't. That is not fair!'
'But how can we send it if we don't know whom to send it to?'
'If you really want to send such a thing it can easily be done,'said Mrs. Swancourt, coming to her step-daughter's rescue. 'Anenvelope addressed, "To the Critic of THE COURT OF KELLYON CASTLE,care of the Editor of the PRESENT," would find him.'
'Yes, I suppose it would.'
'Why not write your answer yourself, Elfride?' Mrs. Swancourtinquired.
'I might,' she said hesitatingly; 'and send it anonymously: thatwould be treating him as he has treated me.'
'No use in the world!'
'But I don't like to let him know my exact name. Suppose I put myinitials only? The less you are known the more you are thoughtof.'
'Yes; you might do that.'
Elfride set to work there and then. Her one desire for the lastfortnight seemed likely to be realized. As happens with sensitiveand secluded minds, a continual dwelling upon the subject hadmagnified to colossal proportions the space she assumed herself tooccupy or to have occupied in the occult critic's mind. At noonand at night she had been pestering herself with endeavours toperceive more distinctly his conception of her as a woman apartfrom an author: whether he really despised her; whether he thoughtmore or less of her than of ordinary young women who neverventured into the fire of criticism at all. Now she would havethe satisfaction of feeling that at any rate he knew her trueintent in crossing his path, and annoying him so by herperformance, and be taught perhaps to despise it a little less.
Four days later an envelope, directed to Miss Swancourt in astrange hand, made its appearance from the post-bag.
'0h,' said Elfride, her heart sinking within her. 'Can it be fromthat man--a lecture for impertinence? And actually one for Mrs.Swancourt in the same hand-writing!' She feared to open hers.'Yet how can he know my name? No; it is somebody else.'
'Nonsense!' said her father grimly. 'You sent your initials, andthe Directory was available. Though he wouldn't have taken thetrouble to look there unless he had been thoroughly savage withyou. I thought you wrote with rather more asperity than simpleliterary discussion required.' This timely clause was introducedto save the character of the vicar's judgment under any issue ofaffairs.
impertinent in manner. Ido heartily wish I had ?
'Well, here I go,' said Elfride, desperately tearing open theseal.
'To be sure, of course,' exclaimed Mrs. Swancourt; and looking upfrom her own letter. 'Christopher, I quite forgot to tell you,when I mentioned that I had seen my distant relative, HarryKnight, that I invited him here for whatever length of time hecould spare. And now he says he can come any day in August.'
'Write, and say the first of the month,' replied theindiscriminate vicar.
She read om 'Goodness me--and that isn't all. He is actually thereviewer of Elfride's book. How absurd, to be sure! I had no ideahe reviewed novels or had anything to do with the PRESENT. He isa barrister--and I thought he only wrote in the Quarterlies. Why,Elfride, you have brought about an odd entanglement! What does hesay to you?'
Elfride had put down her letter with a dissatisfied flush on herface. 'I don't know. The idea of his knowing my name and allabout me!...Why, he says nothing particular, only this--
'"MY DEAR MADAM,--Though I am sorry that my remarks should haveseemed harsh to you, it is a pleasure to find that they have beenthe means of bringing forth such an ingeniously argued reply.Unfortunately, it is so long since I wrote my review, that mymemory does not serve me sufficiently to say a single word in mydefence, even supposing there remains one to be said, which isdoubtful. You, will find from a letter I have written to Mrs.Swancourt, that we are not such strangers to each other as we havebeen imagining. Possibly, I may have the pleasure of seeing yousoon, when any argument you choose to advance shall receive allthe attention it deserves."
'That is dim sarcasm--I know it is.'
'Oh no, Elfride.'
'And then, his remarks didn't seem harsh--I mean I did not sayso.'
'He thinks you are in a frightful temper,' said Mr. Swancourt,chuckling in undertones.
'And he will come and see me, and find the authoress ascontemptible in speech as she has been impertinent in manner. Ido heartily wish I had never written a word to him!'
'Never mind,' said Mrs. Swancourt, also laughing in low quietjerks; 'it will make the meeting such a comical affair, and affordsplendid by-play for your father and myself. The idea of ourrunning our heads against Harry Knight all the time! I cannot getover that.'
The vicar had immediately remembered the name to be that ofStephen Smith's preceptor and friend; but having ceased to concernhimself in the matter he made no remark to that effect,consistently forbearing to allude to anything which could restorerecollection of the (to him) disagreeable mistake with regard topoor Stephen's lineage and position. Elfride had of courseperceived the same thing, which added to the complication ofrelationship a mesh that her stepmother knew nothing of.
The identification scarcely heightened Knight's attractions now,though a twelvemonth ago she would only have cared to see him forthe interest he possessed as Stephen's friend. Fortunately forKnight's advent, such a reason for welcome had only begun to beawkward to her at a time when the interest he had acquired on hisown account made it no longer necessary.
These coincidences, in common with all relating to him, tended tokeep Elfride's mind upon the stretch concerning Knight. As washer custom when upon the horns of a dilemma, she walked off byherself among the laurel bushes, and there, standing still andsplitting up a leaf without removing it from its stalk, fetchedback recollections of Stephen's frequent words in praise of hisfriend, and wished she had listened more attentively. Then, stillpulling the leaf, she would blush at some fancied mortificationthat would accrue to her from his words when they met, inconsequence of her intrusiveness, as she now considered it, inwriting to him.
The next development of her meditations was the subject of whatthis man's personal appearance might be--was he tall or short,dark or fair, gay or grim? She would have asked Mrs. Swancourt butfor the risk she might thereby incur of some teasing remark beingreturned. Ultimately Elfride would say, 'Oh, what a plague thatreviewer is to me!' and turn her face to where she imagined Indialay, and murmur to herself, 'Ah, my little husband, what are youdoing now? Let me see, where are you--south, east, where? Behindthat hill, ever so far behind!'