the dwelling place of ligh-第77部分

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In　the　late　afternoon；　when　her　tasks　were　finished；　Janet　would　cross
the　Common　to　Mrs。　Maturin'sa　dwelling　typical　of　the　New　England　of
the　past；　with　the　dimensions　of　a　cottage　and　something　of　the　dignity
of　a　mansion。　　Fluted　white　pilasters　adorned　the　corners；　the　windows
were　protected　by　tiny　eaves；　the　roof　was　guarded　by　a　rail；　the
classically　porched　entrance　was　approached　by　a　path　between　high
clipped　hedges　of　hemlock；　and　through　the　library；　on　the　right；　you
reached　the　flagged　terrace　beside　a　garden；　rioting　in　the　carnival
colours　of　spring。　　By　September　it　would　have　changed。　　For　there　is
one　glory　of　the　hyacinth；　of　the　tulip　and　narcissus　and　the　jonquil；
and　another　of　the　Michaelmas　daisy　and　the　aster。

Insall　was　often　there；　and　on　Saturdays　and　Sundays　he　took　Mrs。　Maturin
and　Janet　on　long　walks　into　the　country。　　There　were　afternoons　when　the
world　was　flooded　with　silver　light；　when　the　fields　were　lucent　in　the
sun；　and　afternoons　stained　with　blue；the　landscape　like　a　tapestry
woven　in　delicate　grins　on　a　ground　of　indigo。　　The　arbutus；　all　aglow
and　fragrant　beneath　its　leaves；　the　purple　fringed　polygala　were　past；
but　they　found　the　pale　gold　lily　of　the　bellwort；　the　rust…red　bloom　of
the　ginger。　　In　the　open　spaces　under　the　sky　were　clouds　of　bluets；　wild
violets；　and　white　strawberry　flowers　clustering　beside　the　star　moss　all
ashimmer　with　new　green。　　The　Canada　Mayflower　spread　a　carpet　under　the
pines；　and　in　the　hollows　where　the　mists　settled；　where　the　brooks
flowed；　where　the　air　was　heavy　with　the　damp；　ineffable　odour　of　growing
things；　they　gathered　drooping　adder's…tongues；　white…starred　bloodroots
and　foam…flowers。　　From　Insall's　quick　eye　nothing　seemed　to　escape。　　He
would　point　out　to　them　the　humming…bird　that　hovered；　a　bright　blur；
above　the　columbine；　the　woodpecker　glued　to　the　trunk　of　a　maple　high
above　their　heads；　the　red　gleam　of　a　tanager　flashing　through　sunlit
foliage；　the　oriole　and　vireo　where　they　hid。　　And　his　was　the　ear　that
first　caught　the　exquisite；　distant　note　of　the　hermit。　　Once　he　stopped
them；　startled；　to　listen　to　the　cock　partridge　drumming　to　its　mate。。。。

Sometimes；　of　an　evening；　when　Janet　was　helping　Mrs。　Maturin　in　her
planting　or　weeding；　Insall　would　join　them；　rolling　up　the　sleeves　of
his　flannel　shirt　and　kneeling　beside　them　in　the　garden　paths。　　Mrs。
Maturin　was　forever　asking　his　advice；　though　she　did　not　always　follow
it。

〃Now；　Brooks；〃　she　would　say；　〃you've　just　got　to　suggest　something　to
put　in　that　border　to　replace　the　hyacinths。

I　had　larkspur　last　yearyou　rememberand　it　looked　like　a　chromo　in　a
railroad　folder。〃

〃Let　me　seedid　I　advise　larkspur？〃　he　would　ask。

〃Oh；　I'm　sure　you　must　haveI　always　do　what　you　tell　me。　　It　seems　to
me　I've　thought　of　every　possible　flower　in　the　catalogue。　　You　know；
too；　only　you're　so　afraid　of　committing　yourself。〃

Insall's　comic　spirit；　betrayed　by　his　expressions；　by　the　quizzical
intonations　of　his　voice；　never　failed　to　fill　Janet　with　joy；　while　it
was　somehow　suggestive；　too；　of　the　vast　fund　of　his　resource。　　Mrs。
Maturin　was　right；　he　could　have　solved　many　of　her　questions　offhand　if
he　had　so　wished；　but　he　had　his　own　method　of　dealing　with　appeals。　　His
head　tilted　on　one　side；　apparently　in　deep　thought　over　the　problem；　he
never　answered　outright；　but　by　some　process　of　suggestion　unfathomable
to　Janet；　and　by　eliminating；　not　too　deprecatingly；　Mrs。　Maturin's
impatient　proposals；　brought　her　to　a　point　where　she　blurted　out　the
solution　herself。

〃Oriental　poppies！　　How　stupid　of　me　not　to　think　of　them！〃

〃How　stupid　of　me！〃　Insall　echoedand　Janet；　bending　over　her　weeding；
made　sure　they　had　been　in　his　mind　all　the　while。

Augusta　Maturin's　chief　extravagance　was　books；　she　could　not　bear　to
await　her　turn　at　the　library；　and　if　she　liked　a　book　she　wished　to　own
it。　　Subscribing　to　several　reviews；　three　English　and　one　American；　she
scanned　them　eagerly　every　week　and　sent　in　orders　to　her　Boston
bookseller。　　As　a　consequence　the　carved　walnut　racks　on　her　library
table　were　constantly　being　strained。　　A　good　book；　she　declared；　ought
to　be　read　aloud；　and　discussed　even　during　its　perusal。　　And　thus　Janet；
after　an　elementary　and　decidedly　unique　introduction　to　worth…while
literature　in　the　hospital；　was　suddenly　plunged　into　the　vortex　of
modern　thought。　　The　dictum　Insall　quoted；　that　modern　culture　depended
largely　upon　what　one　had　not　read；　was　applied　to　her；　a　child　of　the
new　environment　fallen　into　skilful　hands；　she　was　spared　the　boredom　of
wading　through　the　so…called　classics　which；　though　useful　as　milestones；
as　landmarks　for　future　reference；　are　largely　mere　reminders　of　an
absolute　universe　now　vanished。　　The　arrival　of　a　novel；　play；　or
treatise　by　one　of　that　small　but　growing　nucleus　of　twentieth　century
seers　was　an　event；　and　often　a　volume　begun　in　the　afternoon　was　taken
up　again　after　supper。　　While　Mrs。　Maturin　sat　sewing　on　the　other　side
of　the　lamp；　Janet　had　her　turn　at　reading。　　From　the　first　she　had　been
quick　to　note　Mrs。　Maturin's　inflections；　and　the　relics　of　a　high…school
manner　were　rapidly　eliminated。　　The　essence　of　latter…day　realism　and
pragmatism；　its　courageous　determination　to　tear　away　a　veil　of　which　she
had　always　been　dimly　aware；　to　look　the　facts　of　human　nature　in　the
face；　refreshed　her：　an　increasing　portion　of　it　she　understood；　and　she
was　constantly　under　the　spell　of　the　excitement　that　partially　grasps；
that　hovers　on　the　verge　of　inspiring　discoveries。　　This　excitement；
whenever　Insall　chanced　to　be　present；　was　intensified；　as　she　sat　a
silent　but　often　quivering　listener　to　his　amusing　and　pungent　comments
on　these　new　ideas。　　His　method　of　discussion　never　failed　to　illuminate
and　delight　her；　and　often；　when　she　sat　at　her　typewriter　the　next　day；
she　would　recall　one　of　his　quaint　remarks　that　suddenly　threw　a　bright
light　on　some　matter　hitherto　obscure。。。。　　Occasionally　a　novel　or　a　play
was　the　subject　of　their　talk；　and　then　they　took　a　delight　in　drawing
her　out；　in　appealing　to　a　spontaneous　judgment　unhampered　by
pedagogically　implanted　preconceptions。　　Janet　would　grow　hot　from
shyness。

〃Say　what　you　think；　my　dear；〃　Mrs。　Maturin　would　urge　her。　　〃And
remember　that　your　own　opinion　is　worth　more　than　Shakespeare's　or
Napoleon's！〃

Insall　would　escort　her　home　to　Mrs。　Case's　boarding　house。。。。

One　afternoon　early　in　June　Janet　sat　in　her　little　room　working　at　her
letters　when　Brooks　Insall　came　in。　　〃I　don't　mean　to　intrude　in　business
hours；　but　I　wanted　to　ask　if　you　would　do　a　little　copying　for　me；〃　he
said；　and　he　laid　on　her　desk　a　parcel　bound　with　characteristic
neatness。

〃Something　you've　written？〃　she　exclaimed；　blushing　with　pleasure　and
surprise。　　He　was　actually　confiding　to　her　one　of　his　manuscripts！

〃Wellyes；〃　he　replied　comically；　eyeing　her。

〃I'll　be　very　careful　with　it。　　I'll　do　it　right　away。〃

〃There's　no　particular　hurry；〃　he　assured　her。　　〃The　editor's　waited　six
months　for　itanother　month　or　so　won't　matter。〃

〃Another　month　or　so！〃　she　ejaculated；but　he　was　gone。　　Of　course　she
couldn't　have　expected　him　to　remain　and　talk　about　it；　but　this
unexpected　exhibition　of　shyness　concerning　his　workso　admired　by　the
world's　choicer　spiritsthrilled　yet　amused　her；　and　made　her　glow　with
a　new　understanding。　　With　eager　fingers　she　undid　the　string　and　sat
staring　at　the　regular　script　without　taking　in；　at　first；　the　meaning　of
a　single　sentence。　　It　was　a　comparatively　short　sketch　entitled　〃The
Exile；〃　in　which　shining；　winged　truths　and　elusive　beauties　flitted
continually　against　a　darkbackground　of　Puritan　oppression；　the　story　of
one　Basil　Grelott；　a　dreamer　of　Milton's　day；　Oxford　nurtured；　who；
casting　off　the　shackles　of　dogma　and　manmade　decrees；　sailed　with　his
books　to　the　New　England　wilderness　across　the　sea。　　There　he　lived；
among　the　savages；　in　peace　and　freedom　until　the　arrival　of　Winthrop　and
his　devotees；　to　encounter　persecution　from　those　who　themselves　had　fled
from　it。　　The　Lord's　Brethren；　he　averred；　were　worse　than　the　Lord's
BishopsBlackstone's　phrase。　　Janet；　of　course；　had　never　heard　of
Blackstone；　some　of　whose　experiences　Insall　had　evidently　used。　　And　the
Puritans　dealt　with　Grelott　even　as　they　would　have　served　the　author　of
〃Paradise　Lost〃　himself；　especially　if　he　had　voiced　among　them　the
opinions　set　forth　in　his　pamphlet　on　divorce。　　A　portrait　of　a　stern
divine　with　his　infallible　Book　gave　Janet　a　vivid　conception　of　the
character　of　her　ancestors；　and　early　Boston；　with　yellow　candlelight
gleaming　from　the　lantern…like　windows　of　the　wooden；　Elizabethan　houses；
was　unforgettably　etched。　　There　was　an　inquisition　in　a　freezing　barn　of
a　church；　and　Basil　Grelott　banished　to　perish　amid　the　forest。　　in　his
renewed　quest　for　freedom。。。。　　After　reading　the　manuscript；　Janet　sat
typewriting　into　the　night；　taking　it　home　with　her　and　placing　it
besides　her　bed；　lest　it　be　lost　to　posterity。　　By　five　the　next　evening
she　had　finished　the　copy。

A　gentle　rain　had　fallen　during　the　day；　but　had　ceased　as　she　made　her
way　toward　Insall's　house。　　The　place　was　familiar　now：　she　had　been
there　to　supper　with　Mrs。　Maturin；　a　supper　cooked　and　served　by　Martha
Vesey；　an　elderly；　efficient　and　appallingly　neat　widow；　whom　Insall　had
discovered　somewhere　in　his　travels　and　installed　as　his　housekeeper。
Janet　paused　with　her　hand　on　the　gate　latch　to　gaze　around　her；　at　the
picket　fence　on　which　he　had　been　working　when　she　had　walked　hither　the
year　before。　　It　was　primly　painted　now；　its　posts　crowned　with　the
carved　pineapples；　behind　the　fence　old…fashioned　flowers　were　in　bloom；
lupins　and　false　indigo；　and　the　retaining　wall　of　blue…grey　slaty　stone；
which　he　had　laid　that　spring；　was　finished。　　A　wind　stirred　the　maple；
releasing　a　shower　of　heavy　drops；　and　she　opened　the　gate　and　went　up
the　path　and　knocked　at　the　door。　　There　was　no　responseeven　Martha
must　be　absent；　in　the　village！　　Janet　was　disappointed；　she　had　looked
forward　to　seeing　him；　to　telling