the well-beloved--a sketch of a temperament-第12部分

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the　townindeed；　of　the　United　Kingdom　and　America；　for　that　mattera
creature　in　airy　clothing；　translucent；　like　a　balsam　or　sea…anemone；
without　shadows；　and　in　movement　as　responsive　as　some　highly
lubricated；　many…wired　machine；　which；　if　one　presses　a　particular
spring；　flies　open　and　reveals　its　works。　　The　spring　in　the　present
case　was　the　artistic　commendation　she　deserved　and　craved。　　At　this
particular　moment　she　was　engaged　with　the　man　on　her　own　right；　a
representative　of　Family；　who　talked　positively　and　hollowly；　as　if
shouting　down　a　vista　of　five　hundred　years　from　the　Feudal　past。　　The
lady　on　Jocelyn's　left；　wife　of　a　Lord　Justice　of　Appeal；　was　in　like
manner　talking　to　her　companion　on　the　outer　side；　so　that；　for　the
time；　he　was　left　to　himself。　　He　took　advantage　of　the　opportunity；
drew　out　his　letter；　and　read　it　as　it　lay　upon　his　napkin；　nobody
observing　him；　so　far　as　he　was　aware。

It　came　from　the　wife　of　one　of　his　father's　former　workmen；　and　was
concerning　her　son；　whom　she　begged　Jocelyn　to　recommend　as　candidate
for　some　post　in　town　that　she　wished　him　to　fill。　　But　the　end　of　the
letter　was　what　arrested　him

'You　will　be　sorry　to　hear；　Sir；　that　dear　little　Avice　Caro；　as　we
used　to　call　her　in　her　maiden　days；　is　dead。　　She　married　her　cousin；
if　you　do　mind；　and　went　away　from　here　for　a　good…few　years；　but　was
left　a　widow；　and　came　back　a　twelvemonth　ago；　since　when　she　faltered
and　faltered；　and　now　she　is　gone。'



2。　III。　　SHE　BECOMES　AN　INACCESSIBLE　GHOST

By　imperceptible　and　slow　degrees　the　scene　at　the　dinner…table　receded
into　the　background；　behind　the　vivid　presentment　of　Avice　Caro；　and
the　old；　old　scenes　on　Isle　Vindilia　which　were　inseparable　from　her
personality。　　The　dining　room　was　real　no　more；　dissolving　under　the
bold　stony　promontory　and　the　incoming　West　Sea。　　The　handsome
marchioness　in　geranium…red　and　diamonds；　who　was　visible　to　him　on　his
host's　right　hand　opposite；　became　one　of　the　glowing　vermilion　sunsets
that　he　had　watched　so　many　times　over　Deadman's　Bay；　with　the　form　of
Avice　in　the　foreground。　　Between　his　eyes　and　the　judge　who　sat　next
to　Nichola；　with　a　chin　so　raw　that　he　must　have　shaved　every　quarter
of　an　hour　during　the　day；　intruded　the　face　of　Avice；　as　she　had
glanced　at　him　in　their　last　parting。　　The　crannied　features　of　the
evergreen　society　lady；　who；　if　she　had　been　a　few　years　older；　would
have　been　as　old…fashioned　as　her　daughter；　shaped　themselves　to　the
dusty　quarries　of　his　and　Avice's　parents；　down　which　he　had　clambered
with　Avice　hundreds　of　times。　　The　ivy　trailing　about　the　table…cloth；
the　lights　in　the　tall　candlesticks；　and　the　bunches　of　flowers；　were
transmuted　into　the　ivies　of　the　cliff…built　Castle；　the　tufts　of
seaweed；　and　the　lighthouses　on　the　isle。　　The　salt　airs　of　the　ocean
killed　the　smell　of　the　viands；　and　instead　of　the　clatter　of　voices
came　the　monologue　of　the　tide　off　the　Beal。

More　than　all；　Nichola　Pine…Avon　lost　the　blooming　radiance　which　she
had　latterly　acquired；　she　became　a　woman　of　his　acquaintance　with　no
distinctive　traits；　she　seemed　to　grow　material；　a　superficies　of　flesh
and　bone　merely；　a　person　of　lines　and　surfaces；　she　was　a　language　in
living　cipher　no　more。

When　the　ladies　had　withdrawn　it　was　just　the　same。　　The　soul　of　Avice…
…the　only　woman　he　had　NEVER　loved　of　those　who　had　loved　him
surrounded　him　like　a　firmament。　　Art　drew　near　to　him　in　the　person　of
one　of　the　most　distinguished　of　portrait　painters；　but　there　was　only
one　painter　for　Jocelynhis　own　memory。　　All　that　was　eminent　in
European　surgery　addressed　him　in　the　person　of　that　harmless　and
unassuming　fogey　whose　hands　had　been　inside　the　bodies　of　hundreds　of
living　men；　but　the　lily…white　corpse　of　an　obscure　country…girl
chilled　the　interest　of　discourse　with　such　a　king　of　operators。

Reaching　the　drawing…room　he　talked　to　his　hostess。　　Though　she　had
entertained　three…and…twenty　guests　at　her　table　that　night　she　had
known　not　only　what　every　one　of　them　was　saying　and　doing　throughout
the　repast；　but　what　every　one　was　thinking。　　So；　being　an　old　friend；
she　said　quietly；　'What　has　been　troubling　you？　　Something　has；　I　know。
I　have　been　travelling　over　your　face　and　have　seen　it　there。'

Nothing　could　less　express　the　meaning　his　recent　news　had　for　him　than
a　statement　of　its　facts。　　He　told　of　the　opening　of　the　letter　and　the
discovery　of　the　death　of　an　old　acquaintance。

'The　only　woman　whom　I　never　rightly　valued；　I　may　almost　say！'　he
added；　'and　therefore　the　only　one　I　shall　ever　regret！'

Whether　she　considered　it　a　sufficient　explanation　or　not　the　woman　of
experiences　accepted　it　as　such。　　She　was　the　single　lady　of　his　circle
whom　nothing　erratic　in　his　doings　could　surprise；　and　he　often　gave
her　stray　ends　of　his　confidence　thus　with　perfect　safety。

He　did　not　go　near　Mrs。　Pine…Avon　again；　he　could　not：　　and　on　leaving
the　house　walked　abstractedly　along　the　streets　till　he　found　himself
at　his　own　door。　　In　his　room　he　sat　down；　and　placing　his　hands　behind
his　head　thought　his　thoughts　anew。

At　one　side　of　the　room　stood　an　escritoire；　and　from　a　lower　drawer
therein　he　took　out　a　small　box　tightly　nailed　down。　　He　forced　the
cover　with　the　poker。　　The　box　contained　a　variety　of　odds　and　ends；
which　Pierston　had　thrown　into　it　from　time　to　time　in　past　years　for
future　sortingan　intention　that　he　had　never　carried　out。　　From　the
melancholy　mass　of　papers；　faded　photographs；　seals；　diaries；　withered
flowers；　and　such　like；　Jocelyn　drew　a　little　portrait；　one　taken　on
glass　in　the　primitive　days　of　photography；　and　framed　with　tinsel　in
the　commonest　way。

It　was　Avice　Caro；　as　she　had　appeared　during　the　summer　month　or　two
which　he　had　spent　with　her　on　the　island　twenty　years　before　this
time；　her　young　lips　pursed　up；　her　hands　meekly　folded。　　The　effect　of
the　glass　was　to　lend　to　the　picture　much　of　the　softness
characteristic　of　the　original。　　He　remembered　when　it　was　taken
during　one　afternoon　they　had　spent　together　at　a　neighbouring
watering…place；　when　he　had　suggested　her　sitting　to　a　touting　artist
on　the　sands；　there　being　nothing　else　for　them　to　do。　　A　long
contemplation　of　the　likeness　completed　in　his　emotions　what　the　letter
had　begun。　　He　loved　the　woman　dead　and　inaccessible　as　he　had　never
loved　her　in　life。　　He　had　thought　of　her　but　at　distant　intervals
during　the　twenty　years　since　that　parting　occurred；　and　only　as
somebody　he　could　have　wedded。　　Yet　now　the　times　of　youthful
friendship　with　her；　in　which　he　had　learnt　every　note　of　her　innocent
nature；　flamed　up　into　a　yearning　and　passionate　attachment；　embittered
by　regret　beyond　words。

That　kiss　which　had　offended　his　dignity；　which　she　had　so　childishly
given　him　before　her　consciousness　of　womanhood　had　been　awakened；　what
he　would　have　offered　to　have　a　quarter　of　it　now！

Pierston　was　almost　angry　with　himself　for　his　feelings　of　this　night；
so　unreasonably；　motivelessly　strong　were　they　towards　the　lost　young
playmate。　　'How　senseless　of　me！'　he　said；　as　he　lay　in　his　lonely　bed。
She　had　been　another　man's　wife　almost　the　whole　time　since　he　was
estranged　from　her；　and　now　she　was　a　corpse。　　Yet　the　absurdity　did
not　make　his　grief　the　less：　　and　the　consciousness　of　the　intrinsic；
almost　radiant；　purity　of　this　newsprung　affection　for　a　flown　spirit
forbade　him　to　check　it。　　The　flesh　was　absent　altogether；　it　was　love
rarefied　and　refined　to　its　highest　attar。　　He　had　felt　nothing　like　it
before。

The　next　afternoon　he　went　down　to　the　club；　not　his　large　club；　where
the　men　hardly　spoke　to　each　other；　but　the　homely　one　where　they　told
stories　of　an　afternoon；　and　were　not　ashamed　to　confess　among
themselves　to　personal　weaknesses　and　follies；　knowing　well　that　such
secrets　would　go　no　further。　　But　he　could　not　tell　this。　　So　volatile
and　intangible　was　the　story　that　to　convey　it　in　words　would　have　been
as　hard　as　to　cage　a　perfume。

They　observed　his　altered　manner；　and　said　he　was　in　love。　　Pierston
admitted　that　he　was；　and　there　it　ended。　　When　he　reached　home　he
looked　out　of　his　bed…room　window；　and　began　to　consider　in　what
direction　from　where　he　stood　that　darling　little　figure　lay。　　It　was
straight　across　there；　under　the　young　pale　moon。　　The　symbol　signified
well。　　The　divinity　of　the　silver　bow　was　not　more　excellently　pure
than　she；　the　lost；　had　been。　　Under　that　moon　was　the　island　of
Ancient　Slingers；　and　on　the　island　a　house；　framed　from　mullions　to
chimney…top　like　the　isle　itself；　of　stone。　　Inside　the　window；　the
moonlight　irradiating　her　winding…sheet；　lay　Avice；　reached　only　by　the
faint　noises　inherent　in　the　isle；　the　tink…tink　of　the　chisels　in　the
quarries；　the　surging　of　the　tides　in　the　Bay；　and　the　muffled
grumbling　of　the　currents　in　the　never…pacified　Race。

He　began　to　divine　the　truth。　　Avice；　the　departed　one；　though　she　had
come　short　of　inspiring　a　passion；　had　yet　possessed　a　ground…quality
absent　from　her　rivals；　without　which　it　seemed　that　a　fixed　and　full…
rounded　constancy　to　a　woman　could　not　flourish　in　him。　　Like　his　own；
her　family　had　been　islanders　for　centuriesfrom　Norman；　Anglian；
Roman；　Balearic…British　times。　　Hence　in　her　nature；　as　in　his；　was
some　mysterious　ingredient　sucked　from　the　isle；　otherwise　a　racial
instinct　necessary　to　the　absolute　unison　of　a　pair。　　Thus；　though　he
might　never　love　a　woman　of　the　island　race；　for　lack　in　her　of　the
desired　refinement；　he　could　not　love　long　a　kimberlina　woman　other
than　of　the　island　race；　for　her　lack　of　this　groundwork　of　character。

Such　was　Pierston's　view　of　things。　　Another　fancy　of　his；　an　artist's
superstition　merely；　may　be　mentioned。　　The　Caros；　like　some　other
local　families；　suggested　a　Roman　lineage；　more　or　less　grafted　on　the
stock　of　the　Slingers。　　Their　features　recalled　those　of　the　Italian
peasantry　to　any　one　as　familiar　as　he　was　with　them；　and　there　were
evidences　that　the　Roman　colonists　had　been　populous　and　long…abiding
in　and　near　this　corner　of　Britain。　　Tradition　urged　that　a　temple　to
Venus　once　stood　at　the