第7章

类别:其他 作者:Robert Louis Stevenson字数:25203更新时间:18/12/21 13:17:54
Shewasnotclumsy,andyetnoneofhermovementsseemedquite,THEmovement。Often,whenwipingthedishes,shewouldstand,inbewildermentandchagrinbecauseshehadpulledintwohalves,acuporatumbler。Itwasasif,inherfearandself-mistrust,sheputtoomuchstrengthintotheeffort。Therewasnolooseness,orabandonabouther。Everythingwasgrippedstiffwithintensity,andhereffort,overcharged,closedinonitself。 Sherarelyvariedfromherswinging,forward,intensewalk。 OccasionallysheranwithPauldownthefields。Thenhereyes,blazednakedinakindofecstasythatfrightenedhim。Butshewas,physicallyafraid。Ifsheweregettingoverastile,shegrippedhis,handsinalittlehardanguish,andbegantoloseherpresenceofmind。 Andhecouldnotpersuadehertojumpfromevenasmallheight。 Hereyesdilated,becameexposedandpalpitating。 “No!”shecried,halflaughinginterror——“no!” “Youshall!”hecriedonce,and,jerkingherforward,hebrought,herfallingfromthefence。Butherwild“Ah!”ofpain,asifshe,werelosingconsciousness,cuthim。Shelandedonherfeetsafely,andafterwardshadcourageinthisrespect。 Shewasverymuchdissatisfiedwithherlot。 “Don’tyoulikebeingathome?”Paulaskedher,surprised。 “Whowould?”sheanswered,lowandintense。”Whatisit? I’malldaycleaningwhattheboysmakejustasbadinfiveminutes。 Idon’tWANTtobeathome。” “Whatdoyouwant,then?” “Iwanttodosomething。Iwantachancelikeanybodyelse。 Whyshould1,becauseI’magirl,bekeptathomeandnotallowed,tobeanything?,WhatchanceHAVEI?” “Chanceofwhat?” “Ofknowinganything——oflearning,ofdoinganything。 It’snotfair,becauseI’mawoman。” Sheseemedverybitter。Paulwondered。InhisownhomeAnnie,wasalmostgladtobeagirl。Shehadnotsomuchresponsibility; thingswerelighterforher。Sheneverwantedtobeotherthanagirl。 ButMiriamalmostfiercelywishedshewereaman。Andyetshehated,menatthesametime。 “Butit’saswelltobeawomanasaman,“hesaid,frowning。 “Ha!Isit?,Menhaveeverything。” “Ishouldthinkwomenoughttobeasgladtobewomenasmen,aretobemen,“heanswered。 “No!”——sheshookherhead——“no!Everythingthemenhave。” “Butwhatdoyouwant?”heasked。 “Iwanttolearn。WhySHOULDitbethatIknownothing?” “What!suchasmathematicsandFrench?” “WhySHOULDN’TIknowmathematics?,Yes!”shecried,hereye,expandinginakindofdefiance。 “Well,youcanlearnasmuchasIknow,“hesaid。”I’llteachyou,ifyoulike。” Hereyesdilated。Shemistrustedhimasteacher。 “Wouldyou?”heasked。 Herheadhaddropped,andshewassuckingherfingerbroodingly。 “Yes,“shesaidhesitatingly。 Heusedtotellhismotherallthesethings。 “I’mgoingtoteachMiriamalgebra,“hesaid。 “Well,“repliedMrs。Morel,“Ihopeshe’llgetfatonit。” WhenhewentuptothefarmontheMondayevening,itwas,drawingtwilight。Miriamwasjustsweepingupthekitchen,andwas,kneelingatthehearthwhenheentered。Everyonewasoutbuther。 Shelookedroundathim,flushed,herdarkeyesshining,herfine,hairfallingaboutherface。 “Hello!”shesaid,softandmusical。”Iknewitwasyou。” “How?” “Iknewyourstep。Nobodytreadssoquickandfirm。” Hesatdown,sighing。 “Readytodosomealgebra?”heasked,drawingalittlebook,fromhispocket。 “But——“ Hecouldfeelherbackingaway。 “Yousaidyouwanted,“heinsisted。 “To-night,though?”shefaltered。 “ButIcameonpurpose。Andifyouwanttolearnit,youmustbegin。” Shetookupherashesinthedustpanandlookedathim,halftremulously,laughing。 “Yes,butto-night!Yousee,Ihaven’tthoughtofit。” “Well,mygoodness!,Taketheashesandcome。” Hewentandsatonthestonebenchintheback-yard,where,thebigmilk-canswerestanding,tippedup,toair。Themenwere,inthecowsheds。Hecouldhearthelittlesing-songofthemilk,spurtingintothepails。Presentlyshecame,bringingsomebig,greenishapples。 “Youknowyoulikethem,“shesaid。 Hetookabite。 “Sitdown,“hesaid,withhismouthfull。 Shewasshort-sighted,andpeeredoverhisshoulder。 Itirritatedhim。Hegaveherthebookquickly。 “Here,“hesaid。”It’sonlylettersforfigures。Youput,down’a’insteadof’2’or’6’。” Theyworked,hetalking,shewithherheaddownonthebook。 Hewasquickandhasty。Sheneveranswered。Occasionally,whenhe,demandedofher,“Doyousee?”shelookedupathim,hereyeswide,withthehalf-laughthatcomesoffear。”Don’tyou?”hecried。 Hehadbeentoofast。Butshesaidnothing。Hequestioned,hermore,thengothot。Itmadehisbloodrousetoseeherthere,asitwere,athismercy,hermouthopen,hereyesdilatedwith,laughterthatwasafraid,apologetic,ashamed。ThenEdgarcame,alongwithtwobucketsofmilk。 “Hello!”hesaid。”Whatareyoudoing?” “Algebra,“repliedPaul。 “Algebra!”repeatedEdgarcuriously。Thenhepassedonwith,alaugh。Paultookabiteathisforgottenapple,lookedatthe,miserablecabbagesinthegarden,peckedintolacebythefowls,andhewantedtopullthemup。ThenheglancedatMiriam。 Shewasporingoverthebook,seemedabsorbedinit,yettrembling,lestshecouldnotgetatit。Itmadehimcross。Shewasruddy,andbeautiful。Yethersoulseemedtobeintenselysupplicating。 Thealgebra-booksheclosed,shrinking,knowinghewasangered; andatthesameinstanthegrewgentle,seeingherhurtbecauseshedid,notunderstand。 Butthingscameslowlytoher。Andwhensheheldherself,inagrip,seemedsoutterlyhumblebeforethelesson,itmadehis,bloodrouse。Hestormedather,gotashamed,continuedthelesson,andgrewfuriousagain,abusingher。Shelistenedinsilence。 Occasionally,veryrarely,shedefendedherself。Herliquiddark,eyesblazedathim。 “Youdon’tgivemetimetolearnit,“shesaid。 “Allright,“heanswered,throwingthebookonthetableandlighting,acigarette。Then,afterawhile,hewentbacktoherrepentant。 Sothelessonswent。Hewasalwayseitherinarageorverygentle。 “WhatdoyoutrembleyourSOULbeforeitfor?”hecried。 “Youdon’tlearnalgebrawithyourblessedsoul。Can’tyoulook,atitwithyourclearsimplewits?” Often,whenhewentagainintothekitchen,Mrs。Leiverswould,lookathimreproachfully,saying: “Paul,don’tbesohardonMiriam。Shemaynotbequick,butI’msureshetries。” “Ican’thelpit,“hesaidratherpitiably。”Igoofflikeit。” “Youdon’tmindme,Miriam,doyou?”heaskedofthegirllater。 “No,“shereassuredhiminherbeautifuldeeptones——“no,I don’tmind。” “Don’tmindme;it’smyfault。” But,inspiteofhimself,hisbloodbegantoboilwithher。 Itwasstrangethatnooneelsemadehiminsuchfury。 Heflaredagainsther。Oncehethrewthepencilinherface。 Therewasasilence。Sheturnedherfaceslightlyaside。 “Ididn’t——“hebegan,butgotnofarther,feelingweakin,allhisbones。Sheneverreproachedhimorwasangrywithhim。 Hewasoftencruellyashamed。Butstillagainhisangerburst,likeabubblesurcharged;andstill,whenhesawhereager,silent,asitwere,blindface,hefelthewantedtothrowthepencil,init;andstill,whenhesawherhandtremblingandhermouth,partedwithsuffering,hisheartwasscaldedwithpainforher。 Andbecauseoftheintensitytowhichsherousedhim,hesoughther。 ThenheoftenavoidedherandwentwithEdgar。Miriamand,herbrotherwerenaturallyantagonistic。Edgarwasarationalist,whowascurious,andhadasortofscientificinterestinlife。 ItwasagreatbitternesstoMiriamtoseeherselfdesertedbyPaul,forEdgar,whoseemedsomuchlower。Buttheyouthwasveryhappy,withherelderbrother。Thetwomenspentafternoonstogether,onthelandorintheloftdoingcarpentry,whenitrained。 Andtheytalkedtogether,orPaultaughtEdgarthesongshehimself,hadlearnedfromAnnieatthepiano。Andoftenallthemen,Mr。Leiversaswell,hadbitterdebatesonthenationalizingoftheland,andsimilarproblems。Paulhadalreadyheardhismother’sviews,andasthesewereasyethisown,hearguedforher。Miriamattended,andtookpart,butwasallthetimewaitinguntilitshouldbeover,andapersonalcommunicationmightbegin。 “Afterall,“shesaidwithinherself,“iftheland,werenationalized,EdgarandPaulandIwouldbejustthesame。” Soshewaitedfortheyouthtocomebacktoher。 Hewasstudyingforhispainting。Helovedtositathome,alonewithhismother,atnight,workingandworking。Shesewed,orread。Then,lookingupfromhistask,hewouldresthiseyes,foramomentonherface,thatwasbrightwithlivingwarmth,andhereturnedgladlytohiswork。 “Icandomybestthingswhenyousitthereinyour,rocking-chair,mother,“hesaid。 “I’msure!”sheexclaimed,sniffingwithmockscepticism。 Butshefeltitwasso,andherheartquiveredwithbrightness。 Formanyhoursshesatstill,slightlyconsciousofhimlabouringaway,whilstsheworkedorreadherbook。Andhe,withallhissoul’s,intensitydirectinghispencil,couldfeelherwarmthinsidehim,likestrength。Theywerebothveryhappyso,andbothunconscious,ofit。Thesetimes,thatmeantsomuch,andwhichwererealliving,theyalmostignored。 Hewasconsciousonlywhenstimulated。Asketchfinished,healwayswantedtotakeittoMiriam。Thenhewasstimulated,intoknowledgeoftheworkhehadproducedunconsciously。 IncontactwithMiriamhegainedinsight;hisvisionwentdeeper。 Fromhismotherhedrewthelife-warmth,thestrengthtoproduce; Miriamurgedthiswarmthintointensitylikeawhitelight。 Whenhereturnedtothefactorytheconditionsofworkwerebetter。 HehadWednesdayafternoonofftogototheArtSchool—— MissJordan’sprovision——returningintheevening。Thenthefactory,closedatsixinsteadofeightonThursdayandFridayevenings。 OneeveninginthesummerMiriamandhewentoverthefields,byHerod’sFarmontheirwayfromthelibraryhome。Soitwas,onlythreemilestoWilleyFarm。Therewasayellowglowoverthe,mowing-grass,andthesorrel-headsburnedcrimson。Gradually,asthey,walkedalongthehighland,thegoldinthewestsankdowntored,theredtocrimson,andthenthechillbluecreptupagainsttheglow。 TheycameoutuponthehighroadtoAlfreton,whichran,whitebetweenthedarkeningfields。TherePaulhesitated。 Itwastwomileshomeforhim,onemileforwardforMiriam。 Theybothlookeduptheroadthatraninshadowrightunderthe,glowofthenorth-westsky。Onthecrestofthehill,Selby,withitsstarkhousesandtheup-prickedheadstocksofthepit,stoodinblacksilhouettesmallagainstthesky。 Helookedathiswatch。 “Nineo’clock!”hesaid。 Thepairstood,lothtopart,huggingtheirbooks。 “Thewoodissolovelynow,“shesaid。”Iwantedyoutoseeit。” Hefollowedherslowlyacrosstheroadtothewhitegate。 “TheygrumblesoifI’mlate,“hesaid。 “Butyou’renotdoinganythingwrong,“sheansweredimpatiently。 Hefollowedheracrossthenibbledpastureinthedusk。 Therewasacoolnessinthewood,ascentofleaves,ofhoneysuckle,andatwilight。Thetwowalkedinsilence。Nightcamewonderfullythere,amongthethrongofdarktree-trunks。Helookedround,expectant。 Shewantedtoshowhimacertainwild-rosebushshe,haddiscovered。Sheknewitwaswonderful。Andyet,tillhehadseenit,shefeltithadnotcomeintohersoul。 Onlyhecouldmakeitherown,immortal。Shewasdissatisfied。 Dewwasalreadyonthepaths。Intheoldoak-woodamist,wasrising,andhehesitated,wonderingwhetheronewhiteness,wereastrandoffogoronlycampion-flowerspallidinacloud。 Bythetimetheycametothepine-treesMiriamwasgettingvery,eagerandverytense。Herbushmightbegone。Shemightnotbe,abletofindit;andshewanteditsomuch。Almostpassionately,shewantedtobewithhimwhenbestoodbeforetheflowers。 Theyweregoingtohaveacommuniontogether——somethingthat,thrilledher,somethingholy。Hewaswalkingbesideherinsilence。 Theywereveryneartoeachother。Shetrembled,andhelistened,vaguelyanxious。 Comingtotheedgeofthewood,theysawtheskyinfront,likemother-of-pearl,andtheearthgrowingdark。Somewhereonthe,outermostbranchesofthepine-woodthehoneysucklewasstreamingscent。 “Where?”heasked。 “Downthemiddlepath,“shemurmured,quivering。 Whentheyturnedthecornerofthepathshestoodstill。 Inthewidewalkbetweenthepines,gazingratherfrightened,shecoulddistinguishnothingforsomemoments;thegreyinglight,robbedthingsoftheircolour。Thenshesawherbush。 “Ah!”shecried,hasteningforward。 Itwasverystill。Thetreewastallandstraggling。 Ithadthrownitsbriersoverahawthorn-bush,anditslong,streamerstrailedthick,rightdowntothegrass,splashingthe,darknesseverywherewithgreatspiltstars,purewhite。Inbosses,ofivoryandinlargesplashedstarstherosesgleamedonthe,darknessoffoliageandstemsandgrass。PaulandMiriamstood,closetogether,silent,andwatched。Pointafterpointthesteady,rosesshoneouttothem,seemingtokindlesomethingintheirsouls。 Theduskcamelikesmokearound,andstilldidnotputouttheroses。 PaullookedintoMiriam’seyes。Shewaspaleandexpectant,withwonder,herlipswereparted,andherdarkeyeslayopentohim。 Hislookseemedtotraveldownintoher。Hersoulquivered。 Itwasthecommunionshewanted。Heturnedaside,asifpained。 Heturnedtothebush。 “Theyseemasiftheywalklikebutterflies,andshakethemselves,“ hesaid。 Shelookedatherroses。Theywerewhite,someincurvedandholy,othersexpandedinanecstasy。Thetreewasdarkasashadow。 Sheliftedherhandimpulsivelytotheflowers;shewentforward,andtouchedtheminworship。 “Letusgo,“hesaid。 Therewasacoolscentofivoryroses——awhite,virginscent。 Somethingmadehimfeelanxiousandimprisoned。Thetwowalked,insilence。 “TillSunday,“hesaidquietly,andlefther;andshewalked,homeslowly,feelinghersoulsatisfiedwiththeholinessofthenight。 Hestumbleddownthepath。Andassoonashewasoutofthewood,inthefreeopenmeadow,wherehecouldbreathe,hestartedtorun,asfastashecould。Itwaslikeadeliciousdeliriuminhisveins。 AlwayswhenhewentwithMiriam,anditgrewratherlate,heknew,hismotherwasfrettingandgettingangryabouthim——why,hecould,notunderstand。Ashewentintothehouse,flingingdownhiscap,hismotherlookedupattheclock。Shehadbeensittingthinking,becauseachilltohereyespreventedherreading。Shecouldfeel,Paulbeingdrawnawaybythisgirl。AndshedidnotcareforMiriam。 “Sheisoneofthosewhowillwanttosuckaman’ssoulouttill,hehasnoneofhisownleft,“shesaidtoherself;“andheisjust,suchagabyastolethimselfbeabsorbed。Shewillneverlethim,becomeaman;sheneverwill。”,So,whilehewasawaywithMiriam,Mrs。Morelgrewmoreandmoreworkedup。 Sheglancedattheclockandsaid,coldlyandrathertired: “Youhavebeenfarenoughto-night。” Hissoul,warmandexposedfromcontactwiththegirl,shrank。 “Youmusthavebeenrighthomewithher,“hismothercontinued。 Hewouldnotanswer。Mrs。Morel,lookingathimquickly,sawhishairwasdamponhisforeheadwithhaste,sawhimfrowning,inhisheavyfashion,resentfully。 “Shemustbewonderfullyfascinating,thatyoucan’tgetaway,fromher,butmustgotrailingeightmilesatthistimeofnight。” HewashurtbetweenthepastglamourwithMiriamandthe,knowledgethathismotherfretted。Hehadmeantnottosayanything,torefusetoanswer。Buthecouldnothardenhishearttoignore,hismother。 “IDOliketotalktoher,“heansweredirritably。 “Istherenobodyelsetotalkto?” “Youwouldn’tsayanythingifIwentwithEdgar。” “YouknowIshould。Youknow,whoeveryouwentwith,Ishouldsayitwastoofarforyoutogotrailing,lateatnight,whenyou’vebeentoNottingham。Besides“——hervoicesuddenlyflashed,intoangerandcontempt——“itisdisgusting——bits,ofladsandgirlscourting。” “ItisNOTcourting,“hecried。 “Idon’tknowwhatelseyoucallit。” “It’snot!,DoyouthinkweSPOONanddo?,Weonlytalk。” “Tillgoodnessknowswhattimeanddistance,“wasthe,sarcasticrejoinder。 Paulsnappedatthelacesofhisbootsangrily。 “Whatareyousomadabout?”heasked。”Becauseyoudon’t,likeher。” “Idon’tsayIdon’tlikeher。ButIdon’tholdwithchildren,keepingcompany,andneverdid。” “Butyoudon’tmindourAnniegoingoutwithJimInger。” “They’vemoresensethanyoutwo。” “Why?” “OurAnnie’snotoneofthedeepsort。” Hefailedtoseethemeaningofthisremark。Buthismother,lookedtired。ShewasneversostrongafterWilliam’sdeath; andhereyeshurther。 “Well,“hesaid,“it’ssoprettyinthecountry。Mr。Sleath,askedaboutyou。Hesaidhe’dmissedyou。Areyouabitbetter?” “Ioughttohavebeeninbedalongtimeago,“shereplied。 “Why,mother,youknowyouwouldn’thavegonebefore,quarter-pastten。” “Oh,yes,Ishould!” “Oh,littlewoman,you’dsayanythingnowyou’redisagreeable,withme,wouldn’tyou?” Hekissedherforeheadthatheknewsowell:,thedeepmarks,betweenthebrows,therisingofthefinehair,greyingnow,andthe,proudsettingofthetemples。Hishandlingeredonhershoulder,afterhiskiss。Thenhewentslowlytobed。HehadforgottenMiriam; heonlysawhowhismother’shairwasliftedbackfromherwarm,broadbrow。Andsomehow,shewashurt。 ThenthenexttimehesawMiriamhesaidtoher: “Don’tletmebelateto-night——notlaterthanteno’clock。My,mothergetssoupset。” Miriamdroppedherbead,brooding。 “Whydoesshegetupset?”sheasked。 “BecauseshesaysIoughtn’ttobeoutlatewhenIhavetoget,upearly。” “Verywell!”saidMiriam,ratherquietly,withjustatouch,ofasneer。 Heresentedthat。Andhewasusuallylateagain。 ThattherewasanylovegrowingbetweenhimandMiriamneither,ofthemwouldhaveacknowledged。Hethoughthewastoosanefor,suchsentimentality,andshethoughtherselftoolofty。Theybothwere,lateincomingtomaturity,andpsychicalripenesswasmuchbehind,eventhephysical。Miriamwasexceedinglysensitive,ashermother,hadalwaysbeen。Theslightestgrossnessmadeherrecoilalmost,inanguish。Herbrotherswerebrutal,butnevercoarseinspeech。 Themendidallthediscussingoffarmmattersoutside。But,perhaps,becauseofthecontinualbusinessofbirthandofbegettingwhichgoes,onuponeveryfarm,Miriamwasthemorehypersensitivetothematter,andherbloodwaschastenedalmosttodisgustofthefaintest,suggestionofsuchintercourse。Paultookhispitchfromher,andtheirintimacywentoninanutterlyblanchedandchastefashion。 Itcouldneverbementionedthatthemarewasinfoal。 Whenhewasnineteen,hewasearningonlytwentyshillingsaweek,buthewashappy。Hispaintingwentwell,andlifewentwellenough。 OntheGoodFridayheorganisedawalktotheHemlockStone。 Therewerethreeladsofhisownage,thenAnnieandArthur,MiriamandGeoffrey。Arthur,apprenticedasanelectrician,inNottingham,washomefortheholiday。Morel,asusual,wasupearly,whistlingandsawingintheyard。Atseveno’clockthefamilyheard,himbuythreepennyworthofhot-crossbuns;hetalkedwithgusto,tothelittlegirlwhobroughtthem,callingher“mydarling“。He,turnedawayseveralboyswhocamewithmorebuns,tellingthem,theyhadbeen“kested“byalittlelass。ThenMrs。Morelgotup,andthefamilystraggleddown。Itwasanimmenseluxurytoeverybody,thislyinginbedjustbeyondtheordinarytimeonaweekday。 AndPaulandArthurreadbeforebreakfast,andhadthemealunwashed,sittingintheirshirt-sleeves。Thiswasanotherholidayluxury。 Theroomwaswarm。Everythingfeltfreeofcareandanxiety。 Therewasasenseofplentyinthehouse。 Whiletheboyswerereading,Mrs。Morelwentintothegarden。 Theywerenowinanotherhouse,anoldone,neartheScargill,Streethome,whichhadbeenleftsoonafterWilliamhaddied。 Directlycameanexcitedcryfromthegarden: “Paul!,Paul!,comeandlook!” Itwashismother’svoice。Hethrewdownhisbookandwentout。 Therewasalonggardenthatrantoafield。Itwasagrey,coldday,withasharpwindblowingoutofDerbyshire。Twofieldsaway,Bestwoodbegan,withajumbleofroofsandredhouse-ends,outofwhich,rosethechurchtowerandthespireoftheCongregationalChapel。 Andbeyondwentwoodsandhills,rightawaytothepalegreyheights,ofthePennineChain。 Paullookeddownthegardenforhismother。Herheadappeared,amongtheyoungcurrant-bushes。 “Comehere!”shecried。 “Whatfor?”heanswered。 “Comeandsee。” Shehadbeenlookingatthebudsonthecurranttrees。 Paulwentup。 “Tothink,“shesaid,“thathereImightneverhaveseenthem!” Hersonwenttoherside。Underthefence,inalittlebed,wasaravelofpoorgrassyleaves,suchascomefromveryimmaturebulbs,andthreescyllasinbloom。Mrs。Morelpointedtothedeepblueflowers。 “Now,justseethose!”sheexclaimed。”Iwaslookingat,thecurrantbushes,when,thinksItomyself,’There’ssomething,veryblue;isitabitofsugar-bag?’andthere,beholdyou! Sugar-bag!Threegloriesofthesnow,andsuchbeauties! Butwhereonearthdidtheycomefrom?” “Idon’tknow,“saidPaul。 “Well,that’samarvel,now!,ITHOUGHTIkneweveryweed,andbladeinthisgarden。ButHAVEN’Ttheydonewell?,Yousee,thatgooseberry-bushjustsheltersthem。Notnipped,nottouched!” Hecroucheddownandturnedupthebellsofthelittle,blueflowers。 “They’reagloriouscolour!”hesaid。 “Aren’tthey!”shecried。”IguesstheycomefromSwitzerland,wheretheysaytheyhavesuchlovelythings。Fancythemagainst,thesnow!,Butwherehavetheycomefrom?,Theycan’thaveBLOWNhere,canthey?” Thenherememberedhavingsetherealotoflittletrash,ofbulbstomature。 “Andyounevertoldme,“shesaid。 “No!,IthoughtI’dleaveittilltheymightflower。” “Andnow,yousee!,Imighthavemissedthem。AndI’venever,hadagloryofthesnowinmygardeninmylife。” Shewasfullofexcitementandelation。Thegardenwas,anendlessjoytoher。Paulwasthankfulforhersakeatlast,tobeinahousewithalonggardenthatwentdowntoafield。 Everymorningafterbreakfastshewentoutandwashappypottering,aboutinit。Anditwastrue,shekneweveryweedandblade。 Everybodyturnedupforthewalk。Foodwaspacked,andthey,setoff,amerry,delightedparty。Theyhungoverthewallofthe,mill-race,droppedpaperinthewaterononesideofthetunnel,andwatcheditshootoutontheother。Theystoodonthefoot-bridge,overBoathouseStationandlookedatthemetalsgleamingcoldly。 “YoushouldseetheFlyingScotsmancomethroughathalf-pastsix!” saidLeonard,whosefatherwasasignalman。”Lad,butshedoesn’t,halfbuzz!”andthelittlepartylookedupthelinesoneway,toLondon,andtheotherway,toScotland,andtheyfeltthetouch,ofthesetwomagicalplaces。 InIlkestonthecollierswerewaitingingangsforthe,public-housestoopen。Itwasatownofidlenessandlounging。 AtStantonGatetheironfoundryblazed。Overeverythingtherewere,greatdiscussions。AtTrowelltheycrossedagainfromDerbyshire,intoNottinghamshire。TheycametotheHemlockStoneatdinner-time。 ItsfieldwascrowdedwithfolkfromNottinghamandIlkeston。 Theyhadexpectedavenerableanddignifiedmonument。 Theyfoundalittle,gnarled,twistedstumpofrock,somethinglikea,decayedmushroom,standingoutpatheticallyonthesideofafield。 LeonardandDickimmediatelyproceededtocarvetheirinitials,“L。W。”and“R。P。”,intheoldredsandstone;butPauldesisted,becausehehadreadinthenewspapersatiricalremarksabout,initial-carvers,whocouldfindnootherroadtoimmortality。 Thenalltheladsclimbedtothetopoftherocktolookround。 Everywhereinthefieldbelow,factorygirlsandladswereeating,lunchorsportingabout。Beyondwasthegardenofanoldmanor。 Ithadyew-hedgesandthickclumpsandborders,ofyellowcrocusesroundthelawn。 “See,“saidPaultoMiriam,“whataquietgarden!” Shesawthedarkyewsandthegoldencrocuses,thenshe,lookedgratefully。Hehadnotseemedtobelongtoheramongall,theseothers;hewasdifferentthen——notherPaul,whounderstood,theslightestquiverofherinnermostsoul,butsomethingelse,speakinganotherlanguagethanhers。Howithurther,anddeadened,herveryperceptions。Onlywhenhecamerightbacktoher,leavinghisother,hislesserself,asshethought,wouldshe,feelaliveagain。Andnowheaskedhertolookatthisgarden,wantingthecontactwithheragain。Impatientofthesetinthefield,sheturnedtothequietlawn,surroundedbysheavesofshut-upcrocuses。 Afeelingofstillness,almostofecstasy,cameoverher。 Itfeltalmostasifshewerealonewithhiminthisgarden。 Thenheleftheragainandjoinedtheothers。Soonthey,startedhome。Miriamloiteredbehind,alone。Shedidnot,fitinwiththeothers;shecouldveryrarelygetintohuman,relationswithanyone:,soherfriend,hercompanion,herlover,wasNature。Shesawthesundecliningwanly。Inthedusky,coldhedgerowsweresomeredleaves。Shelingeredtogatherthem,tenderly,passionately。Theloveinherfinger-tipscaressed,theleaves;thepassioninherheartcametoaglowupontheleaves。 Suddenlysherealisedshewasaloneinastrangeroad,andshehurriedforward。Turningacornerinthelane,shecame,uponPaul,whostoodbentoversomething,hismindfixedonit,workingawaysteadily,patiently,alittlehopelessly。Shehesitated,inherapproach,towatch。 Heremainedconcentratedinthemiddleoftheroad。Beyond,oneriftofrichgoldinthatcolourlessgreyeveningseemedtomake,himstandoutindarkrelief。Shesawhim,slenderandfirm,asifthesettingsunhadgivenhimtoher。Adeeppaintookhold,ofher,andsheknewshemustlovehim。Andshehaddiscoveredhim,discoveredinhimararepotentiality,discoveredhisloneliness。 Quiveringasatsome“annunciation“shewentslowlyforward。 Atlasthelookedup。 “Why,“heexclaimedgratefully,“haveyouwaitedforme!” Shesawadeepshadowinhiseyes。 “Whatisit?”sheasked。 “Thespringbrokenhere;“andheshowedherwherehisumbrella,wasinjured。 Instantly,withsomeshame,sheknewhehadnotdone,thedamagehimself,butthatGeoffreywasresponsible。 “Itisonlyanoldumbrella,isn’tit?”sheasked。 Shewonderedwhyhe,whodidnotusuallytroubleovertrifles,madesuchamountainofthismolehill。 “ButitwasWilliam’san’mymothercan’thelpbutknow,“ hesaidquietly,stillpatientlyworkingattheumbrella。 ThewordswentthroughMiriamlikeablade。This,then,wasthe,confirmationofhervisionofhim!,Shelookedathim。Butthere,wasabouthimacertainreserve,andshedarednotcomforthim,notevenspeaksoftlytohim。 “Comeon,“hesaid。”Ican’tdoit;“andtheywentinsilence,alongtheroad。 Thatsameeveningtheywerewalkingalongunderthetrees,byNetherGreen。Hewastalkingtoherfretfully,seemedtobe,strugglingtoconvincehimself。 “Youknow,“hesaid,withaneffort,“ifonepersonloves,theotherdoes。” “Ah!”sheanswered。”LikemothersaidtomewhenIwaslittle,’Lovebegetslove。’“ “Yes,somethinglikethat,IthinkitMUSTbe。” “Ihopeso,because,ifitwerenot,lovemightbeavery,terriblething,“shesaid。 “Yes,butitIS——atleastwithmostpeople,“heanswered。 AndMiriam,thinkinghehadassuredhimself,feltstrong,inherself。Shealwaysregardedthatsuddencominguponhim,inthelaneasarevelation。Andthisconversationremained,graveninhermindasoneofthelettersofthelaw。 Nowshestoodwithhimandforhim。When,aboutthistime,heoutragedthefamilyfeelingatWilleyFarmbysomeoverbearinginsult,shestucktohim,andbelievedhewasright。Andatthistimeshe,dreameddreamsofhim,vivid,unforgettable。Thesedreamscame,againlateron,developedtoamoresubtlepsychologicalstage。 OntheEasterMondaythesamepartytookanexcursion,toWingfieldManor。ItwasgreatexcitementtoMiriamtocatcha,trainatSethleyBridge,amidallthebustleoftheBankHolidaycrowd。 TheyleftthetrainatAlfreton。Paulwasinterestedinthe,streetandinthecollierswiththeirdogs。Herewasanewrace,ofminers。Miriamdidnotlivetilltheycametothechurch。 Theywereallrathertimidofentering,withtheirbagsoffood,forfearofbeingturnedout。Leonard,acomic,thinfellow,wentfirst;Paul,whowouldhavediedratherthanbesentback,wentlast。TheplacewasdecoratedforEaster。Inthefonthundreds,ofwhitenarcissiseemedtobegrowing。Theairwasdimandcoloured,fromthewindowsandthrilledwithasubtlescentoflilies,andnarcissi。InthatatmosphereMiriam’ssoulcameintoaglow。 Paulwasafraidofthethingshemustn’tdo;andhewassensitive,tothefeeloftheplace。Miriamturnedtohim。Heanswered。 Theyweretogether。HewouldnotgobeyondtheCommunion-rail。She,lovedhimforthat。Hersoulexpandedintoprayerbesidehim。 Hefeltthestrangefascinationofshadowyreligiousplaces。 Allhislatentmysticismquiveredintolife。Shewasdrawntohim。 Hewasaprayeralongwithher。 Miriamveryrarelytalkedtotheotherlads。Theyatonce,becameawkwardinconversationwithher。Sousuallyshewassilent。 Itwaspastmiddaywhentheyclimbedthesteeppathtothemanor。 Allthingsshonesoftlyinthesun,whichwaswonderfullywarm,andenlivening。Celandinesandvioletswereout。Everybodywas,tip-topfullwithhappiness。Theglitteroftheivy,thesoft,atmosphericgreyofthecastlewalls,thegentlenessofeverything,neartheruin,wasperfect。 Themanorisofhard,palegreystone,andtheotherwalls,areblankandcalm。Theyoungfolkwereinraptures。Theywent,intrepidation,almostafraidthatthedelightofexploringthis,ruinmightbedeniedthem。Inthefirstcourtyard,withinthehigh,brokenwalls,werefarm-carts,withtheirshaftslyingidleon,theground,thetyresofthewheelsbrilliantwithgold-redrust。 Itwasverystill。 Alleagerlypaidtheirsixpences,andwenttimidlythrough,thefinecleanarchoftheinnercourtyard。Theywereshy。 Hereonthepavement,wherethehallhadbeen,anoldthorntree,wasbudding。Allkindsofstrangeopeningsandbrokenroomswere,intheshadowaroundthem。 Afterlunchtheysetoffoncemoretoexploretheruin。 Thistimethegirlswentwiththeboys,whocouldactasguides,andexpositors。Therewasonetalltowerinacorner,rathertottering,wheretheysayMaryQueenofScotswasimprisoned。 “ThinkoftheQueengoinguphere!”saidMiriaminalowvoice,assheclimbedthehollowstairs。 “Ifshecouldgetup,“saidPaul,“forshehadrheumatism,likeanything。Ireckontheytreatedherrottenly。” “Youdon’tthinkshedeservedit?”askedMiriam。 “No,Idon’t。Shewasonlylively。” Theycontinuedtomountthewindingstaircase。Ahighwind,blowingthroughtheloopholes,wentrushinguptheshaft,andfilledthegirl’sskirtslikeaballoon,sothatshewasashamed,untilhetookthehemofherdressandhelditdownforher。 Hediditperfectlysimply,ashewouldhavepickedupherglove。 Sherememberedthisalways。 Roundthebrokentopofthetowertheivybushedout,oldandhandsome。Also,therewereafewchillgillivers,inpalecoldbud。Miriamwantedtoleanoverforsomeivy,buthewouldnotlether。Instead,shehadtowaitbehindhim,andtakefromhimeachsprayashegathereditandheldittoher,eachoneseparately,inthepurestmannerofchivalry。Thetower,seemedtorockinthewind。Theylookedovermilesandmiles,ofwoodedcountry,andcountrywithgleamsofpasture。 Thecryptunderneaththemanorwasbeautiful,andin,perfectpreservation。Paulmadeadrawing:,Miriamstayedwithhim。 ShewasthinkingofMaryQueenofScotslookingwithherstrained,hopelesseyes,thatcouldnotunderstandmisery,overthehills,whencenohelpcame,orsittinginthiscrypt,beingtoldofaGod,ascoldastheplaceshesatin。 Theysetoffagaingaily,lookingroundontheirbelovedmanor,thatstoodsocleanandbigonitshill。 “SupposingyoucouldhaveTHATfarm,“saidPaultoMiriam。 “Yes!” “Wouldn’titbelovelytocomeandseeyou!” Theywerenowinthebarecountryofstonewalls,whichheloved,andwhich,thoughonlytenmilesfromhome,seemedsoforeign,toMiriam。Thepartywasstraggling。Astheywerecrossinga,largemeadowthatslopedawayfromthesun,alongapathembedded,withinnumerabletinyglitteringpoints,Paul,walking,alongside,lacedhisfingersinthestringsofthebagMiriam,wascarrying,andinstantlyshefeltAnniebehind,watchfulandjealous。 Butthemeadowwasbathedinagloryofsunshine,andthepath,wasjewelled,anditwasseldomthathegaveheranysign。 Sheheldherfingersverystillamongthestringsofthebag,hisfingerstouching;andtheplacewasgoldenasavision。 AtlasttheycameintothestragglinggreyvillageofCrich,thatlieshigh。BeyondthevillagewasthefamousCrichStand,thatPaulcouldseefromthegardenathome。Thepartypushedon。 Greatexpanseofcountryspreadaroundandbelow。Theladswere,eagertogettothetopofthehill。Itwascappedbyaroundknoll,halfofwhichwasbynowcutaway,andonthetopofwhichstood,anancientmonument,sturdyandsquat,forsignallinginolddaysfar,downintothelevellandsofNottinghamshireandLeicestershire。 Itwasblowingsohard,highupthereintheexposedplace,thattheonlywaytobesafewastostandnailedbythewind,tothewanofthetower。Attheirfeetfelltheprecipice,wherethelimestonewasquarriedaway。Belowwasajumbleof,hillsandtinyvillages——Mattock,Ambergate,StoneyMiddleton。 TheladswereeagertospyoutthechurchofBestwood,faraway,amongtherathercrowdedcountryontheleft。Theyweredisgusted,thatitseemedtostandonaplain。TheysawthehillsofDerbyshire,fallintothemonotonyoftheMidlandsthatsweptawaySouth。 Miriamwassomewhatscaredbythewind,buttheladsenjoyedit。 Theywenton,milesandmiles,toWhatstandwell。Allthefood,waseaten,everybodywashungry,andtherewasverylittlemoneytoget,homewith。Buttheymanagedtoprocurealoafandacurrant-loaf,whichtheyhackedtopieceswithshut-knives,andatesittingon,thewallnearthebridge,watchingthebrightDerwentrushingby,andthebrakesfromMatlockpullingupattheinn。 Paulwasnowpalewithweariness。Hehadbeenresponsible,forthepartyallday,andnowhewasdone。Miriamunderstood,andkeptclosetohim,andhelefthimselfinherhands。 TheyhadanhourtowaitatAmbergateStation。Trainscame,crowdedwithexcursionistsreturningtoManchester,Birmingham,andLondon。 “Wemightbegoingthere——folkeasilymightthinkwe’regoing,thatfar,“saidPaul。 Theygotbackratherlate。Miriam,walkinghomewithGeoffrey,watchedthemoonrisebigandredandmisty。Shefeltsomething,wasfulfilledinher。 Shehadaneldersister,Agatha,whowasaschool-teacher。 Betweenthetwogirlswasafeud。MiriamconsideredAgathaworldly。 Andshewantedherselftobeaschool-teacher。 OneSaturdayafternoonAgathaandMiriamwereupstairsdressing。 Theirbedroomwasoverthestable。Itwasalowroom,notverylarge,andbare。MiriamhadnailedonthewallareproductionofVeronese’s,“St。Catherine“。Shelovedthewomanwhosatinthewindow,dreaming。 Herownwindowsweretoosmalltositin。Butthefrontonewas,drippedoverwithhoneysuckleandvirginiacreeper,andlooked,uponthetree-topsoftheoak-woodacrosstheyard,whilethe,littlebackwindow,nobiggerthanahandkerchief,wasaloophole,totheeast,tothedawnbeatingupagainstthebelovedroundhills。 Thetwosistersdidnottalkmuchtoeachother。Agatha,whowasfairandsmallanddetermined,hadrebelledagainst,thehomeatmosphere,againstthedoctrineof“theothercheek“。 Shewasoutintheworldnow,inafairwaytobeindependent。 Andsheinsistedonworldlyvalues,onappearance,onmanners,onposition,whichMiriamwouldfainhaveignored。 Bothgirlslikedtobeupstairs,outoftheway,whenPaulcame。 Theypreferredtocomerunningdown,openthestair-footdoor,andseehimwatching,expectantofthem。Miriamstoodpainfully,pullingoverherheadarosaryhehadgivenher。Itcaught,inthefinemeshofherhair。Butatlastshehaditon,andthe,red-brownwoodenbeadslookedwellagainsthercoolbrownneck。 Shewasawell-developedgirl,andveryhandsome。Butinthelittle,looking-glassnailedagainstthewhitewashedwallshecouldonlysee,afragmentofherselfatatime。Agathahadboughtalittlemirror,ofherown,whichsheproppeduptosuitherself。Miriamwasnear,thewindow。Suddenlysheheardthewell-knownclickofthechain,andshesawPaulflingopenthegate,pushhisbicycleintotheyard。 Shesawhimlookatthehouse,andsheshrankaway。Hewalked,inanonchalantfashion,andhisbicyclewentwithhimasifit,werealivething。 “Paul’scome!”sheexclaimed。 “Aren’tyouglad?”saidAgathacuttingly。 Miriamstoodstillinamazementandbewilderment。 “Well,aren’tyou?”sheasked。 “Yes,butI’mnotgoingtolethimseeit,andthinkIwantedhim。” Miriamwasstartled。Sheheardhimputtinghisbicycleinthe,stableunderneath,andtalkingtoJimmy,whohadbeenapit-horse,andwhowasseedy。 “Well,Jimmymylad,howareter?,Nobbutsickan’ sadly,like?,Why,then,it’sashame,myowdlad。” Sheheardtheroperunthroughtheholeasthehorseliftedits,headfromthelad’scaress。Howshelovedtolistenwhenhethought,onlythehorsecouldhear。ButtherewasaserpentinherEden。 ShesearchedearnestlyinherselftoseeifshewantedPaulMorel。 Shefelttherewouldbesomedisgraceinit。Fulloftwistedfeeling,shewasafraidshedidwanthim。Shestoodself-convicted。Then,cameanagonyofnewshame。Sheshrankwithinherselfinacoil,oftorture。DidshewantPaulMorel,anddidheknowshewantedhim? Whatasubtleinfamyuponher。Shefeltasifherwholesoulcoiled,intoknotsofshame。 Agathawasdressedfirst,andrandownstairs。Miriamheard,hergreettheladgaily,knewexactlyhowbrillianthergrey,eyesbecamewiththattone。Sheherselfwouldhavefeltitbold,tohavegreetedhiminsuchwise。Yetthereshestoodunderthe,self-accusationofwantinghim,tiedtothatstakeoftorture。 Inbitterperplexityshekneeleddownandprayed: “OLord,letmenotlovePaulMorel。Keepmefromlovinghim,ifIoughtnottolovehim。” Somethinganomalousintheprayerarrestedher。Shelifted,herheadandpondered。Howcoulditbewrongtolovehim?,Lovewas,God’sgift。Andyetitcausedhershame。Thatwasbecauseofhim,PaulMorel。But,then,itwasnothisaffair,itwasherown,betweenherselfandGod。Shewastobeasacrifice。Butitwas,God’ssacrifice,notPaulMorel’sorherown。Afterafewminutes,shehidherfaceinthepillowagain,andsaid: “But,Lord,ifitisThywillthatIshouldlovehim,makemelovehim——asChristwould,whodiedforthesoulsofmen。 Makemelovehimsplendidly,becauseheisThyson。” Sheremainedkneelingforsometime,quitestill,anddeeplymoved,herblackhairagainsttheredsquaresandthelavender-sprigged,squaresofthepatchworkquilt。Prayerwasalmostessentialtoher。 Thenshefellintothatraptureofself-sacrifice,identifyingherselfwithaGodwhowassacrificed,whichgives,tosomanyhumansoulstheirdeepestbliss。 WhenshewentdownstairsPaulwaslyingbackinanarmchair,holdingforthwithmuchvehemencetoAgatha,whowasscorningalittle,paintinghehadbroughttoshowher。Miriamglancedatthetwo,andavoidedtheirlevity。Shewentintotheparlourtobealone。 Itwastea-timebeforeshewasabletospeaktoPaul,andthen,hermannerwassodistanthethoughthehadoffendedher。 MiriamdiscontinuedherpracticeofgoingeachThursdayevening,tothelibraryinBestwood。AftercallingforPaulregularly,duringthewholespring,anumberoftriflingincidentsandtiny,insultsfromhisfamilyawakenedhertotheirattitudetowardsher,andshedecidedtogonomore。SosheannouncedtoPauloneevening,shewouldnotcallathishouseagainforhimonThursdaynights。 “Why?”heasked,veryshort。 “Nothing。OnlyI’drathernot。” “Verywell。” “But,“shefaltered,“ifyou’dcaretomeetme,wecouldstill,gotogether。” “Meetyouwhere?” “Somewhere——whereyoulike。” “Ishan’tmeetyouanywhere。Idon’tseewhyyoushouldn’t,keepcallingforme。Butifyouwon’t,Idon’twanttomeetyou。” SotheThursdayeveningswhichhadbeensoprecioustoher,andtohim,weredropped。Heworkedinstead。Mrs。Morelsniffed,withsatisfactionatthisarrangement。 Hewouldnothaveitthattheywerelovers。Theintimacy,betweenthemhadbeenkeptsoabstract,suchamatterofthesoul,allthoughtandwearystruggleintoconsciousness,thathesawitonly,asaplatonicfriendship。Hestoutlydeniedtherewasanythingelse,betweenthem。Miriamwassilent,orelsesheveryquietlyagreed。 Hewasafoolwhodidnotknowwhatwashappeningtohimself。 Bytacitagreementtheyignoredtheremarksandinsinuationsof,theiracquaintances。 “Wearen’tlovers,wearefriends,“hesaidtoher。”WEknowit。 Letthemtalk。Whatdoesitmatterwhattheysay。” Sometimes,astheywerewalkingtogether,sheslippedherarm,timidlyintohis。Buthealwaysresentedit,andsheknewit。 Itcausedaviolentconflictinhim。WithMiriamhewasalways,onthehighplaneofabstraction,whenhisnaturalfireoflovewas,transmittedintothefinestreamofthought。Shewouldhaveitso。 Ifhewerejollyand,assheputit,flippant,shewaitedtillhecame,backtoher,tillthechangehadtakenplaceinhimagain,andhe,waswrestlingwithhisownsoul,frowning,passionateinhisdesire,forunderstanding。Andinthispassionforunderstandinghersoul,layclosetohis;shehadhimalltoherself。Buthemustbemade,abstractfirst。 Then,ifsheputherarminhis,itcausedhimalmosttorture。 Hisconsciousnessseemedtosplit。Theplacewhereshewastouching,himranhotwithfriction。Hewasoneinternecinebattle,andhe,becamecrueltoherbecauseofit。 OneeveninginmidsummerMiriamcalledatthehouse,warmfromclimbing。Paulwasaloneinthekitchen;hismother,couldbeheardmovingaboutupstairs。 “Comeandlookatthesweet-peas,“hesaidtothegirl。 Theywentintothegarden。Theskybehindthetownletandthe,churchwasorange-red;theflower-gardenwasfloodedwithastrange,warmlightthatliftedeveryleafintosignificance。Paulpassed,alongafinerowofsweet-peas,gatheringablossomhereandthere,allcreamandpaleblue。Miriamfollowed,breathingthefragrance。 Toher,flowersappealedwithsuchstrengthshefeltshemust,makethempartofherself。Whenshebentandbreathedaflower,itwasasifsheandtheflowerwerelovingeachother。Paulhated,herforit。Thereseemedasortofexposureabouttheaction,somethingtoointimate。 Whenhehadgotafairbunch,theyreturnedtothehouse。 Helistenedforamomenttohismother’squietmovementupstairs,thenhesaid: “Comehere,andletmepintheminforyou。”,Hearrangedthem,twoorthreeatatimeinthebosomofherdress,steppingback,nowandthentoseetheeffect。”Youknow,“hesaid,takingthepin,outofhismouth,“awomanoughtalwaystoarrangeherflowers,beforeherglass。” Miriamlaughed。Shethoughtflowersoughttobepinned,inone’sdresswithoutanycare。ThatPaulshouldtakepains,tofixherflowersforherwashiswhim。 Hewasratheroffendedatherlaughter。 “Somewomendo——thosewholookdecent,“hesaid。 Miriamlaughedagain,butmirthlessly,tohearhimthusmix,herupwithwomeninageneralway。Frommostmenshewouldhave,ignoredit。Butfromhimithurther。 Hehadnearlyfinishedarrangingtheflowerswhenheheard,hismother’sfootsteponthestairs。Hurriedlyhepushed,inthelastpinandturnedaway。 “Don’tletmaterknow,“hesaid。 Miriampickedupherbooksandstoodinthedoorwaylooking,withchagrinatthebeautifulsunset。ShewouldcallforPaul,nomore,shesaid。 “Good-evening,Mrs。Morel,“shesaid,inadeferentialway。 Shesoundedasifshefeltshehadnorighttobethere。 “Oh,isityou,Miriam?”repliedMrs。Morelcoolly。 ButPaulinsistedoneverybody’sacceptinghisfriendship,withthegirl,andMrs。Morelwastoowisetohaveanyopenrupture。 Itwasnottillhewastwentyyearsoldthatthefamilycould,everaffordtogoawayforaholiday。Mrs。Morelhadneverbeenaway,foraholiday,excepttoseehersister,sinceshehadbeenmarried。 NowatlastPaulhadsavedenoughmoney,andtheywereallgoing。 Therewastobeaparty:,someofAnnie’sfriends,onefriendofPaul’s,ayoungmaninthesameofficewhereWilliamhadpreviouslybeen,andMiriam。 Itwasgreatexcitementwritingforrooms。Paulandhis,motherdebateditendlesslybetweenthem。Theywantedafurnished,cottagefortwoweeks。Shethoughtoneweekwouldbeenough,butheinsistedontwo。 AtlasttheygotananswerfromMablethorpe,acottagesuchasthey,wishedforthirtyshillingsaweek。Therewasimmensejubilation。 Paulwaswildwithjoyforhismother’ssake。Shewouldhave,arealholidaynow。Heandshesatateveningpicturingwhatit,wouldbelike。Anniecamein,andLeonard,andAlice,andKitty。 Therewaswildrejoicingandanticipation。PaultoldMiriam。 Sheseemedtobroodwithjoyoverit。ButtheMorel’shouserang,withexcitement。 TheyweretogoonSaturdaymorningbytheseventrain。 PaulsuggestedthatMiriamshouldsleepathishouse,becauseit,wassofarforhertowalk。Shecamedownforsupper。 EverybodywassoexcitedthatevenMiriamwasacceptedwithwarmth。 Butalmostassoonassheenteredthefeelinginthefamilybecamecloseandtight。 HehaddiscoveredapoembyJeanIngelowwhichmentionedMablethorpe,andsohemustreadittoMiriam。Hewouldneverhavegotsofarin,thedirectionofsentimentalityastoreadpoetrytohisownfamily。 Butnowtheycondescendedtolisten。Miriamsatonthesofa,absorbedinhim。Shealwaysseemedabsorbedinhim,andbyhim,whenhewaspresent。Mrs。Morelsatjealouslyinherownchair。 Shewasgoingtohearalso。AndevenAnnieandthefatherattended,Morelwithhisheadcockedononeside,likesomebodylistening,toasermonandfeelingconsciousofthefact。Paulduckedhishead,overthebook。Hehadgotnowalltheaudiencehecaredfor。 AndMrs。MorelandAnniealmostcontestedwithMiriamwhoshouldlisten,bestandwinhisfavour。Hewasinveryhighfeather。 “But,“interruptedMrs。Morel,“whatISthe’BrideofEnderby’ thatthebellsaresupposedtoring?” “It’sanoldtunetheyusedtoplayonthebellsforawarning,againstwater。IsupposetheBrideofEnderbywasdrownedinaflood,“ hereplied。Hehadnotthefaintestknowledgewhatitreallywas,buthewouldneverhavesunksolowastoconfessthattohiswomenfolk。 Theylistenedandbelievedhim。Hebelievedhimself。 “Andthepeopleknewwhatthattunemeant?”saidhismother。 “Yes——justliketheScotchwhentheyheard’TheFlowerso’ theForest’——andwhentheyusedtoringthebellsbackwardforalarm。” “How?”saidAnnie。”Abellsoundsthesamewhetherit’srung,backwardsorforwards。” “But,“hesaid,“ifyoustartwiththedeepbellandringup,tothehighone——der——der——der——der——der——der——der——der!” Heranupthescale。Everybodythoughtitclever。Hethought,sotoo。Then,waitingaminute,hecontinuedthepoem。 “Hm!”saidMrs。Morelcuriously,whenhefinished。”ButI wisheverythingthat’swrittenweren’tsosad。” “Icannaseewhattheywantdrownin’theirselvesfor,“ saidMorel。 Therewasapause。Anniegotuptoclearthetable。 Miriamrosetohelpwiththepots。 “LetMEhelptowashup,“shesaid。 “Certainlynot,“criedAnnie。”Yousitdownagain。 Therearen’tmany。” AndMiriam,whocouldnotbefamiliarandinsist,satdown,againtolookatthebookwithPaul。 Hewasmasteroftheparty;hisfatherwasnogood。Andgreat,tortureshesufferedlestthetinboxshouldbeputoutatFirsby,insteadofatMablethorpe。Andhewasn’tequaltogettingacarriage。 Hisboldlittlemotherdidthat。 “Here!”shecriedtoaman。”Here!” PaulandAnniegotbehindtherest,convulsedwithshamedlaughter。 “HowmuchwillitbetodrivetoBrookCottage?”saidMrs。Morel。 “Twoshillings。” “Why,howfarisit?” “Agoodway。” “Idon’tbelieveit,“shesaid。 Butshescrambledin。Therewereeightcrowdedinoneold,seasidecarriage。 “Yousee,“saidMrs。Morel,“it’sonlythreepenceeach,andifitwereatramcar——“ Theydrovealong。Eachcottagetheycameto,Mrs。Morelcried: “Isitthis?,Now,thisisit!” Everybodysatbreathless。Theydrovepast。Therewas,auniversalsigh。 “I’mthankfulitwasn’tthatbrute,“saidMrs。Morel。 “IWASfrightened。”,Theydroveonandon。 Atlasttheydescendedatahousethatstoodaloneover,thedykebythehighroad。Therewaswildexcitementbecausethey,hadtocrossalittlebridgetogetintothefrontgarden。 Buttheylovedthehousethatlaysosolitary,withasea-meadow,ononeside,andimmenseexpanseoflandpatchedinwhitebarley,yellowoats,redwheat,andgreenroot-crops,flatandstretching,leveltothesky。 Paulkeptaccounts。Heandhismotherrantheshow。 Thetotalexpenses——lodging,food,everything——wassixteenshillings,aweekperperson。HeandLeonardwentbathinginthemornings。 Morelwaswanderingabroadquiteearly。 “You,Paul,“hismothercalledfromthebedroom,“eatapiece,ofbread-and-butter。” “Allright,“heanswered。 Andwhenhegotbackhesawhismotherpresidinginstateat,thebreakfast-table。Thewomanofthehousewasyoung。Herhusband,wasblind,andshedidlaundrywork。SoMrs。Morelalwayswashed,thepotsinthekitchenandmadethebeds。 “Butyousaidyou’dhavearealholiday,“saidPaul,“andnow,youwork。” “Work!”sheexclaimed。”Whatareyoutalkingabout!” Helovedtogowithheracrossthefieldstothevillage,andthesea。Shewasafraidoftheplankbridge,andheabusedher,forbeingababy。OnthewholehestucktoherasifhewereHERman。 Miriamdidnotgetmuchofhim,except,perhaps,whenallthe,otherswenttothe“Coons“。CoonswereinsufferablystupidtoMiriam,sohethoughttheyweretohimselfalso,andhepreachedpriggishly,toAnnieaboutthefatuityoflisteningtothem。Yethe,too,knewalltheirsongs,andsangthemalongtheroadsroisterously。 Andifhefoundhimselflistening,thestupiditypleasedhimverymuch。 YettoAnniehesaid: “Suchrot!thereisn’tagrainofintelligenceinit。Nobodywith,moregumptionthanagrasshoppercouldgoandsitandlisten。” AndtoMiriamhesaid,withmuchscornofAnnieandtheothers: “Isupposethey’reatthe’Coons’。” ItwasqueertoseeMiriamsingingcoonsongs。Shehadastraight,chinthatwentinaperpendicularlinefromthelowerliptotheturn。 ShealwaysremindedPaulofsomesadBotticelliangelwhenshesang,evenwhenitwas: “Comedownlover’slane,Forawalkwithme,talkwithme。” Onlywhenhesketched,orateveningwhentheotherswereat,the“Coons“shehadhimtoherself。Hetalkedtoherendlessly,abouthisloveofhorizontals:,howthey,thegreatlevelsofsky,andlandinLincolnshire,meanttohimtheeternalityofthewill,justasthebowedNormanarchesofthechurch,repeatingthemselves,meantthedoggedleapingforwardofthepersistenthumansoul,onandon,nobodyknowswhere;incontradictiontotheperpendicular,linesandtotheGothicarch,which,hesaid,leaptupatheavenand,touchedtheecstasyandlostitselfinthedivine。Himself,hesaid,wasNorman,MiriamwasGothic。Shebowedinconsenteventothat。 Oneeveningheandshewentupthegreatsweepingshore,ofsandtowardsTheddlethorpe。Thelongbreakersplungedandran,inahissoffoamalongthecoast。Itwasawarmevening。 Therewasnotafigurebutthemselvesonthefarreachesofsand,nonoisebutthesoundofthesea。Paullovedtoseeitclanging,attheland。Helovedtofeelhimselfbetweenthenoiseofit,andthesilenceofthesandyshore。Miriamwaswithhim。 Everythinggrewveryintense。Itwasquitedarkwhenthey,turnedagain。Thewayhomewasthroughagapinthesandhills,andthenalongaraisedgrassroadbetweentwodykes。Thecountry,wasblackandstill。Frombehindthesandhillscamethewhisper,ofthesea。PaulandMiriamwalkedinsilence。Suddenlyhestarted。 Thewholeofhisbloodseemedtoburstintoflame,andhecould,scarcelybreathe。Anenormousorangemoonwasstaringatthem,fromtherimofthesandhills。Hestoodstill,lookingatit。 “Ah!”criedMiriam,whenshesawit。 Heremainedperfectlystill,staringattheimmenseandruddy,moon,theonlythinginthefar-reachingdarknessofthelevel。 Hisheartbeatheavily,themusclesofhisarmscontracted。 “Whatisit?”murmuredMiriam,waitingforhim。 Heturnedandlookedather。Shestoodbesidehim,forever,inshadow。Herface,coveredwiththedarknessofherhat,waswatching,himunseen。Butshewasbrooding。Shewasslightlyafraid——deeply,movedandreligious。Thatwasherbeststate。Hewasimpotent,againstit。Hisbloodwasconcentratedlikeaflameinhischest。 Buthecouldnotgetacrosstoher。Therewereflashesinhisblood。 Butsomehowsheignoredthem。Shewasexpectingsomereligious,stateinhim。Stillyearning,shewashalfawareofhispassion,andgazedathim,troubled。 “Whatisit?”shemurmuredagain。 “It’sthemoon,“heanswered,frowning。 “Yes,“sheassented。”Isn’titwonderful?”Shewascurious,abouthim。Thecrisiswaspast。 Hedidnotknowhimselfwhatwasthematter。Hewasnaturally,soyoung,andtheirintimacywassoabstract,hedidnotknowhe,wantedtocrushherontohisbreasttoeasetheachethere。 Hewasafraidofher。Thefactthathemightwantherasamanwants,awomanhadinhimbeensuppressedintoashame。Whensheshrank,inherconvulsed,coiledtorturefromthethoughtofsuch,athing,hehadwincedtothedepthsofhissoul。Andnowthis,“purity“preventedeventheirfirstlove-kiss。Itwasasifshecould,scarcelystandtheshockofphysicallove,evenapassionatekiss,andthenhewastooshrinkingandsensitivetogiveit。 Astheywalkedalongthedarkfen-meadowhewatchedthemoon,anddidnotspeak。Sheploddedbesidehim。Hehatedher,forshe,seemedinsomewaytomakehimdespisehimself。Lookingahead——hesaw,theonelightinthedarkness,thewindowoftheirlamp-litcottage。 Helovedtothinkofhismother,andtheotherjollypeople。 “Well,everybodyelsehasbeeninlongago!”saidhismother,astheyentered。 “Whatdoesthatmatter!”hecriedirritably。”Icangoawalk,ifIlike,can’tI?” “AndIshouldhavethoughtyoucouldgetintosupperwith,therest,“saidMrs。Morel。 “Ishallpleasemyself,“heretorted。”It’snotLATE。 IshalldoasIlike。” “Verywell,“saidhismothercuttingly,“thenDOasyoulike。” Andshetooknofurthernoticeofhimthatevening。Whichhe,pretendedneithertonoticenortocareabout,butsatreading。 Miriamreadalso,obliteratingherself。Mrs。Morelhatedher,formakinghersonlikethis。ShewatchedPaulgrowingirritable,priggish,andmelancholic。ForthissheputtheblameonMiriam。 Annieandallherfriendsjoinedagainstthegirl。Miriamhadno,friendofherown,onlyPaul。Butshedidnotsuffersomuch,becauseshedespisedthetrivialityoftheseotherpeople。 AndPaulhatedherbecause,somehow,shespoilthisease,andnaturalness。Andhewrithedhimselfwithafeelingofhumiliation。 CHAPTERVIII STRIFEINLOVE ARTHURfinishedhisapprenticeship,andgotajobontheelectrical,plantatMintonPit。Heearnedverylittle,buthadagoodchance,ofgettingon。Buthewaswildandrestless。Hedidnotdrink,norgamble。Yethesomehowcontrivedtogetintoendlessscrapes,alwaysthroughsomehot-headedthoughtlessness。Eitherhewent,rabbitinginthewoods,likeapoacher,orhestayedinNottingham,allnightinsteadofcominghome,orhemiscalculatedhisdive,intothecanalatBestwood,andscoredhischestintoonemass,ofwoundsontherawstonesandtinsatthebottom。 Hehadnotbeenathisworkmanymonthswhenagainhedid,notcomehomeonenight。 “DoyouknowwhereArthuris?”askedPaulatbreakfast。 “Idonot,“repliedhismother。 “Heisafool,“saidPaul。”AndifheDIDanythingI shouldn’tmind。Butno,hesimplycan’tcomeawayfromagame,ofwhist,orelsehemustseeagirlhomefromtheskating-rink——quite,proprietously——andsocan’tgethome。He’safool。” “Idon’tknowthatitwouldmakeitanybetterifhedid,somethingtomakeusallashamed,“saidMrs。Morel。 “Well,Ishouldrespecthimmore,“saidPaul。 “Iverymuchdoubtit,“saidhismothercoldly。 Theywentonwithbreakfast。 “Areyoufearfullyfondofhim?”Paulaskedhismother。 “Whatdoyouaskthatfor?” “Becausetheysayawomanalwaysliketheyoungestbest。” “Shemaydo——butIdon’t。No,heweariesme。” “Andyou’dactuallyratherhewasgood?” “I’dratherheshowedsomeofaman’scommonsense。”