一双蓝眼睛 英文版 A Pair of Blue Eyes
托马斯.哈代 Thomas Hardy
Chapter XXXVI
'The pennie's the jewel that beautifies a'.'
'I can't think what's coming to these St. Launce's people at allat all.'
'With their "How-d'ye-do's," do you mean?'
'Ay, with their "How-d'ye-do's," and shaking of hands, asking mein, and tender inquiries for you, John.'
These words formed part of a conversation between John Smith andhis wife on a Saturday evening in the spring which followedKnight's departure from England. Stephen had long since returnedto India; and the persevering couple themselves had migrated fromLord Luxellian's park at Endelstow to a comfortable roadsidedwelling about a mile out of St. Launce's, where John had opened asmall stone and slate yard in his own name.
'When we came here six months ago,' continued Mrs. Smith, 'thoughI had paid ready money so many years in the town, my friskiershopkeepers would only speak over the counter. Meet 'em in thestreet half-an-hour after, and they'd treat me with staringignorance of my face.'
'Look through ye as through a glass winder?'
'Yes, the brazen ones would. The quiet and cool ones would glanceover the top of my head, past my side, over my shoulder, but nevermeet my eye. The gentle-modest would turn their faces south if Iwere coming east, flit down a passage if I were about to halve thepavement with them. There was the spruce young bookseller wouldplay the same tricks; the butcher's daughters; the upholsterer'syoung men. Hand in glove when doing business out of sight withyou; but caring nothing for a' old woman when playing the genteelaway from all signs of their trade.'
'True enough, Maria.'
'Well, to-day 'tis all different. I'd no sooner got to marketthan Mrs. Joakes rushed up to me in the eyes of the town and said,"My dear Mrs. Smith, now you must be tired with your walk! Come inand have some lunch! I insist upon it; knowing you so many yearsas I have! Don't you remember when we used to go looking for owls'feathers together in the Castle ruins?" There's no knowing whatyou may need, so I answered the woman civilly. I hadn't got tothe corner before that thriving young lawyer, Sweet, who's quitethe dandy, ran after me out of breath. "Mrs. Smith," he says,"excuse my rudeness, but there's a bramble on the tail of yourdress, which you've dragged in from the country; allow me to pullit off for you." If you'll believe me, this was in the very frontof the Town Hall. What's the meaning of such sudden love for a'old woman?'
'Can't say; unless 'tis repentance.'
'Repentance! was there ever such a fool as you. John? Did anybodyever repent with money in's pocket and fifty years to live?'
'Now, I've been thinking too,' said John, passing over the queryas hardly pertinent, 'that I've had more loving-kindness fromfolks to-day than I ever have before since we moved here. Why,old Alderman Tope walked out to the middle of the street where Iwas, to shake hands with me--so 'a did. Having on my workingclothes, I thought 'twas odd. Ay, and there was youngWerrington.'
'Who's he?'
'Why, the man in Hill Street, who plays and sells flutes,trumpets, and fiddles, and grand pehanners. He was talking toEgloskerry, that very small bachelor-man with money in the funds.I was going by, I'm sure, without thinking or expecting a nod frommen of that glib kidney when in my working clothes----'
'You always will go poking into town in your working clothes. Begyou to change how I will, 'tis no use.'
'Well, however, I was in my working clothes. Werrington saw me."Ah, Mr. Smith! a fine morning; excellent weather for building,"says he, out as loud and friendly as if I'd met him in some deephollow, where he could get nobody else to speak to at all. 'Twasodd: for Werrington is one of the very ringleaders of the fastclass.'
At that moment a tap came to the door. The door was immediatelyopened by Mrs. Smith in person.
'You'll excuse us, I'm sure, Mrs. Smith, but this beautiful springweather was too much for us. Yes, and we could stay in no longer;and I took Mrs. Trewen upon my arm directly we'd had a cup of tea,and out we came. And seeing your beautiful crocuses in such abloom, we've taken the liberty to enter. We'll step round thegarden, if you don't mind.'
'Not at all,' said Mrs. Smith; and they walked round the garden.She lifted her hands in amazement directly their backs wereturned. 'Goodness send us grace!'
Who be they?' said her husband.
'Actually Mr. Trewen, the bank-manager, and his wife.'
John Smith, staggered in mind, went out of doors and looked overthe garden gate, to collect his ideas. He had not been there twominutes when wheels were heard, and a carriage and pair rolledalong the road. A distinguished-looking lady, with the demeanourof a duchess, reclined within. When opposite Smith's gate sheturned her head, and instantly commanded the coachman to stop.
'Ah, Mr. Smith, I am glad to see you looking so well. I could nothelp stopping a moment to congratulate you and Mrs. Smith upon thehappiness you must enjoy. Joseph, you may drive on.'
And the carriage rolled away towards St. Launce's.
'Just going to touch my hat to her,' said John; 'just for all theworld as I would have to poor Lady Luxellian years ago.'
'Lord! who is she?'
'The public-house woman--what's her name? Mrs.--Mrs.--at theFalcon.'
'Public-house woman. The clumsiness of the Smith family! YouMIGHT say the landlady of the Falcon Hotel, since we are in forpoliteness. The people are ridiculous enough, but give them theirdue.'
The possibility is that Mrs. Smith was getting mollified, in spiteof herself, by these remarkably friendly phenomena among thepeople of St. Launce's. And in justice to them it was quitedesirable that she should do so. The interest which theunpractised ones of this town expressed so grotesquely was genuineof its kind, and equal in intrinsic worth to the more polishedsmiles of larger communities.
By this time Mr. and Mrs. Trewen were returning from the garden.
'I'll ask 'em flat,' whispered John to his wife. 'I'll say, "Webe in a fog--you'll excuse my asking a question, Mr. and Mrs.Trewen. How is it you all be so friendly to-day?" Hey? 'Twouldsound right and sensible, wouldn't it?'
'Not a word! Good mercy, when will the man have manners!'
'It must be a proud moment for you, I am sure, Mr. and Mrs. Smith,to have a son so celebrated,' said the bank-manager advancing.
'Ah, 'tis Stephen--I knew it!' said Mrs. Smith triumphantly toherself.
'We don't know particulars,' said John.
'Not know!'
'No.'
'Why, 'tis all over town. Our worthy Mayor alluded to it in aspeech at the dinner last night of the Every-Man-his-own-MakerClub.'
'And what about Stephen?' urged Mrs. Smith.
'Why, your son has been feted by deputy-governors and Parseeprinces and nobody-knows-who in India; is hand in glove withnabobs, and is to design a large palace, and cathedral, andhospitals, colleges, halls, and fortifications, by the generalconsent of the ruling powers, Christian and Pagan alike.'
''Twas sure to come to the boy,' said Mr. Smith unassumingly.
''Tis in yesterday's St. Launce's Chronicle; and our worthy Mayorin the chair introduced the subject into his speech last night ina masterly manner.'
''Twas very good of the worthy Mayor in the chair I'm sure,' saidStephen's mother. 'I hope the boy will have the sense to keepwhat he's got; but as for men, they are a simple sex. Some womanwill hook him.'
'Well, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the evening closes in, and we must begoing; and remember this, that every Saturday when you come in tomarket, you are to make our house as your own. There will bealways a tea-cup and saucer for you, as you know there has beenfor months, though you may have forgotten it. I'm a plain-speaking woman, and what I say I mean.'
When the visitors were gone, and the sun had set, and the moon'srays were just beginning to assert themselves upon the walls ofthe dwelling, John Smith and his wife sat dawn to the newspaperthey had hastily procured from the town. And when the reading wasdone, they considered how best to meet the new social requirementssettling upon them, which Mrs. Smith considered could be done bynew furniture and house enlargement alone.
'And, John, mind one thing,' she said in conclusion. 'In writingto Stephen, never by any means mention the name of ElfrideSwancourt again. We've left the place, and know no more about herexcept by hearsay. He seems to be getting free of her, and gladam I for it. It was a cloudy hour for him when he first set eyesupon the girl. That family's been no good to him, first or last;so let them keep their blood to themselves if they want to. Hethinks of her, I know, but not so hopelessly. So don't try toknow anything about her, and we can't answer his questions. Shemay die out of his mind then.'
'That shall be it,' said John.