the egoist-第67部分

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endangering　his　life　day　by　day；　and　for　a　stipend　not　enough　to
support　his　family；　we　are　bound　to　think　of　the　boy！　Poor　dear
silly　lad！　with　his　'I　say；　Miss　Middleton；　why　wouldn't　（some
one）　see　my　father　when　he　came　here　to　call　on　him；　and　had　to
walk　back　ten　miles　in　the　rain？'I　could　almost　fancy　that　did
me　mischief。。。　But　we　have　a　splendid　morning　after　yesterday's
rain。　And　we　will　be　generous。　Own；　Laetitia；　that　it　is　possible
to　gild　the　most　glorious　day　of　creation。〃

〃Doubtless　the　spirit　may　do　it　and　make　its　hues　permanent；〃　said
Laetitia。

〃You　to　me；　I　to　you；　he　to　us。　Well；　then；　if　he　does；　it　shall
be　one　of　my　heavenly　days。　Which　is　for　the　probation　of
experience。　We　are　not　yet　at　sunset。〃

〃Have　you　seen　Mr。　Whitford　this　morning？〃

〃He　passed　me。〃

〃Do　not　imagine　him　ever　ill…tempered。〃

〃I　had　a　governess；　a　learned　lady；　who　taught　me　in　person　the
picturesqueness　of　grumpiness。　Her　temper　was　ever　perfect；　
because　she　was　never　in　the　wrong；　but　I　being　so；　she　was
grumpy。　She　carried　my　iniquity　under　her　brows；　and　looked　out　on
me　through　it。　I　was　a　trying　child。〃

Laetitia　said；　laughing：　〃I　can　believe　it！〃

〃Yet　I　liked　her　and　she　liked　me：　we　were　a　kind　of　foreground　
and　background：　she　threw　me　into　relief　and　I　was　an　apology　for
her　existence。〃

〃You　picture　her　to　me。〃

〃She　says　of　me　now　that　I　am　the　only　creature　she　has　loved。　Who
knows　that　I　may　not　come　to　say　the　same　of　her？〃

〃You　would　plague　her　and　puzzle　her　still。〃

〃Have　I　plagued　and　puzzled　Mr。　Whitford？〃

〃He　reminds　you　of　her？〃

〃You　said　you　had　her　picture。〃

〃Ah！　do　not　laugh　at　him。　He　is　a　true　friend。〃

〃The　man　who　can　be　a　friend　is　the　man　who　will　presume　to　be　a
censor。〃

〃A　mild　one。〃

〃As　to　the　sentence　he　pronounces；　I　am　unable　to　speak；　but　his
forehead　is　Rhadamanthine　condemnation。〃

〃Dr　Middleton！〃

Clara　looked　round。　〃Who？　I？　Did　you　hear　an　echo　of　papa？　He
would　never　have　put　Rhadamanthus　over　European　souls；　because　it
appears　that　Rhadamanthus　judged　only　the　Asiatic；　so　you　are
wrong；　Miss　Dale。　My　father　is　infatuated　with　Mr。　Whitford。　What
can　it　be？　We　women　cannot　sound　the　depths　of　scholars；　probably
because　their　pearls　have　no　value　in　our　market；　except　when　they
deign　to　chasten　an　impertinent；　and　Mr。　Whitford　stands　aloof
from　any　notice　of　small　fry。　He　is　deep；　studious；　excellent；　and
does　it　not　strike　you　that　if　he　descended　among　us　he　would　be
like　a　Triton　ashore？〃

Laetitia's　habit　of　wholly　subservient　sweetness；　which　was　her
ideal　of　the　feminine；　not　yet　conciliated　with　her　acuter
character；　owing　to　the　absence　of　full　pleasure　from　her　life
the　unhealed　wound　she　had　sustained　and　the　cramp　of　a　bondage　of
such　old　date　as　to　seem　ironinduced　her　to　say；　as　if
consenting：　〃You　think　he　is　not　quite　at　home　in　society？〃　But
she　wished　to　defend　him　strenuously；　and　as　a　consequence　she　had
to　quit　the　self…imposed　ideal　of　her　daily　acting；　wherebythe
case　being　unwonted；　very　novel　to　herthe　lady's　intelligence
became　confused　through　the　process　that　quickened　it；　so
sovereign　a　method　of　hoodwinking　our　bright　selves　is　the　acting
of　a　part；　however　naturally　it　may　come　to　us！　and　to　this　will
each　honest　autobiographical　member　of　the　animated　world　bear
witness。

She　added：　〃You　have　not　found　him　sympathetic？　He　is。　You　fancy
him　brooding；　gloomy？　He　is　the　reverse；　he　is　cheerful；　he　is
indifferent　to　personal　misfortune。　Dr。　Corney　says　there　is　no
laugh　like　Vernon　Whitford's；　and　no　humour　like　his。　Latterly　he
certainly　。。。　But　it　has　not　been　your　cruel　word　grumpiness。　The
truth　is；　he　is　anxious　about　Crossjay：　and　about　other　things；
and　he　wants　to　leave。　He　is　at　a　disadvantage　beside　very　lively
and　careless　gentlemen　at　present；　but　your　'Triton　ashore'　is
unfair；　it　is　ugly。　He　is；　I　can　say；　the　truest　man　I　know。〃

〃I　did　not　question　his　goodness；　Laetitia。〃

〃You　threw　an　accent　on　it。〃

〃Did　I？　I　must　be　like　Crossjay；　who　declares　he　likes　fun　best。〃　

〃Crossjay　ought　to　know　him；　if　anybody　should。　Mr。　Whitford　has
defended　you　against　me；　Clara；　even　since　I　took　to　calling　you
Clara。　Perhaps　when　you　supposed　him　so　like　your　ancient
governess；　he　was　meditating　how　he　could　aid　you。　Last　night　he
gave　me　reasons　for　thinking　you　would　do　wisely　to　confide　in
Mrs。　　Mountstuart。　It　is　no　longer　necessary。　I　merely　mention　it。
He　is　a　devoted　friend。〃

〃He　is　an　untiring　pedestrian。〃

〃Oh！〃

Colonel　De　Craye；　after　hovering　near　the　ladies　in　the　hope　of
seeing　them　divide；　now　adopted　the　system　of　making　three　that
two　may　come　of　it。

As　he　joined　them　with　his　glittering　chatter；　Laetitia　looked　at
Clara　to　consult　her；　and　saw　the　face　rosy　as　a　bride's。

The　suspicion　she　had　nursed　sprung　out　of　her　arms　a　muscular
fact　on　the　spot。

〃Where　is　my　dear　boy？〃　Clara　said。

〃Out　for　a　holiday；〃　the　colonel　answered　in　her　tone。

〃Advise　Mr。　Whitford　not　to　waste　his　time　in　searching　for
Crossjay；　Laetitia。　Crossjay　is　better　out　of　the　way　to…day。　At
least；　I　thought　so　just　now。　Has　he　pocket…money；　Colonel　De
Craye？〃

〃My　lord　can　command　his　inn。〃

〃How　thoughtful　you　are！〃

Laetitia's　bosom　swelled　upon　a　mute　exclamation；　equivalent　to：
〃Woman！　woman！　snared　ever　by　the　sparkling　and　frivolous！
undiscerning　of　the　faithful；　the　modest　and　beneficent！〃

In　the　secret　musings　of　moralists　this　dramatic　rhetoric
survives。

The　comparison　was　all　of　her　own　making；　and　she　was　indignant　at
the　contrast；　though　to　what　end　she　was　indignant　she　could　not
have　said；　for　she　had　no　idea　of　Vernon　as　a　rival　of　De　Craye　in
the　favour　of　a　plighted　lady。　But　she　was　jealous　on　behalf　of
her　sex：　her　sex's　reputation　seemed　at　stake；　and　the　purity　of
it　was　menaced　by　Clara's　idle　preference　of　the　shallower　man。
When　the　young　lady　spoke　so　carelessly　of　being　like　Crossjay；
she　did　not　perhaps　know　that　a　likeness；　based　on　a　similarity　of
their　enthusiasms；　loves；　and　appetites；　had　been　established
between　women　and　boys。　Laetitia　had　formerly　chafed　at　it；
rejecting　it　utterly；　save　when　now　and　then　in　a　season　of
bitterness　she　handed　here　and　there　a　volatile　young　lady　（none
but　the　young）　to　be　stamped　with　the　degrading　brand。　Vernon
might　be　as　philosophical　as　he　pleased。　To　her　the　gaiety　of
these　two；　Colonel　De　Craye　and　Clara　Middleton；　was　distressingly
musical：　they　harmonized　painfully。　The　representative　of　her　sex
was　hurt　by　it。

She　had　to　stay　beside　them：　Clara　held　her　arm。　The　colonel's
voice　dropped　at　times　to　something　very　like　a　whisper。　He　was
answered　audibly　and　smoothly。　The　quickwitted　gentleman　accepted
the　correction：　but　in　immediately　paying　assiduous　attentions　to
Miss　Dale；　in　the　approved　intriguer's　fashion；　he　showed　himself
in　need　of　another　amounting　to　a　reproof。　Clara　said：　〃We　have
been　consulting；　Laetitia；　what　is　to　be　done　to　cure　Professor
Crooklyn　of　his　cold。〃　De　Craye　perceived　that　he　had　taken　a
wrong　step；　and　he　was　mightily　surprised　that　a　lesson　in
intrigue　should　be　read　to　him　of　all　men。　Miss　Middleton's
audacity　was　not　so　astonishing：　he　recognized　grand　capabilities
in　the　young　lady。　Fearing　lest　she　should　proceed　further　and　cut
away　from　him　his　vantage…ground　of　secrecy　with　her；　he　turned
the　subject　and　was　adroitly　submissive。

Clara's　manner　of　meeting　Sir　Willoughby　expressed　a　timid
disposition　to　friendliness　upon　a　veiled　inquiry；　understood　by
none　save　Laetitia；　whose　brain　was　racked　to　convey　assurances　to
herself　of　her　not　having　misinterpreted　him。　Could　there　be　any
doubt？　She　resolved　that　there　could　not　be；　and　it　was　upon　this
basis　of　reason　that　she　fancied　she　had　led　him　to　it。　Legitimate
or　not；　the　fancy　sprang　from　a　solid　foundation。　Yesterday
morning　she　could　not　have　conceived　it。　Now　she　was　endowed　to
feel　that　she　had　power　to　influence　him；　because　now；　since　the
midnight；　she　felt　some　emancipation　from　the　spell　of　his　physical
mastery。　He　did　not　appear　to　her　as　a　different　man；　but　she　had
grown　sensible　of　being　a　stronger　woman。　He　was　no　more　the　cloud
over　her；　nor　the　magnet；　the　cloud　once　heaven…suffused；　the
magnet　fatally　compelling　her　to　sway　round　to　him。　She　admired
him　still：　his　handsome　air；　his　fine　proportions；　the　courtesy
of　his　bending　to　Clara　and　touching　of　her　hand；　excused　a
fanatical　excess　of　admiration　on　the　part　of　a　woman　in　her
youth；　who　is　never　the　anatomist　of　the　hero's　lordly　graces。　But
now　she　admired　him　piecemeal。　When　it　came　to　the　putting　of　him
together；　she　did　it　coldly。　To　compassionate　him　was　her　utmost
warmth。　Without　conceiving　in　him　anything　of　the　strange　old
monster　of　earth　which　had　struck　the　awakened　girl's　mind　of　Miss
Middleton；　Laetitia　classed　him　with　other　men；　he　was　〃one　of
them〃。　And　she　did　not　bring　her　disenchantment　as　a　charge
against　him。　She　accused　herself；　acknowledged　the　secret　of　the
change　to　be；　and　her　youthfulness　was　dead：otherwise　could　she
have　given　him　compassion；　and　not　herself　have　been　carried　on
the　flood　of　it？　The　compassion　was　fervent；　and　pure　too。　She
supposed　he　would　supplicate；　she　saw　that　Clara　Middleton　was
pleasant　with　him　only　for　what　she　expected　of　his　generosity。
She　grieved。　Sir　Willoughby　was　fortified　by　her　sorrowful　gaze　as
he　and　Clara　passed　out　together　to　the　laboratory　arm　in　arm。

Laetitia　had　to　tell　Vernon　of　the　uselessness　of　his　beating　the
house　and　grounds　for　Crossjay。　Dr。　Middleton　held　him　fast　in
discussion　upon　an　overnight's　classical　wrangle　with　Professor
Crooklyn；　which　was　to　be　renewed　that　day。　The　Professor　had
appointed　to　call　expressly　to　renew　it。　〃A　fine　scholar；〃　said
the　Rev。　Doctor；　〃but　crotchety；　like　all　men　who　cannot　stand
their　Port。〃

〃I　hear　that　he　had　a　cold；〃　Vernon　remarked。　〃I　hope　the　wine　was
good；　sir。〃

As　when　the　foreman　of　a　sentimental　jury　is　commissioned　to
inform　an　awful　Bench　exact　in　perspicuous　English；　of　a
verdict　that　must　of　necessity　be　pronounced　in　favour　of　the
hanging　of　the　culprit；　yet　would　fain　attenuate