the well-beloved--a sketch of a temperament-第16部分

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there　more　than　two　or　three　years；　and　the　'Ann　Avice'　was　probably
Avice　the　Second。　　Who　was　Isaac？　　Some　boy　admirer　of　her　child…time
doubtless。

He　retraced　his　steps；　and　passed　the　Caros'　house　towards　his　own。
The　revivified　Avice　animated　the　dwelling；　and　the　light　within　the
room　fell　upon　the　window。　　She　was　just　inside　that　blind。


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Whenever　she　unexpectedly　came　to　the　castle　he　started；　and　lost
placidity。　　It　was　not　at　her　presence　as　such；　but　at　the　new
condition；　which　seemed　to　have　something　sinister　in　it。　　On　the　other
hand；　the　most　abrupt　encounter　with　him　moved　her　to　no　emotion　as　it
had　moved　her　prototype　in　the　old　days。　　She　was　indifferent　to；
almost　unconscious　of；　his　propinquity。　　He　was　no　more　than　a　statue
to　her；　she　was　a　growing　fire　to　him。

A　sudden　Sapphic　terror　of　love　would　ever　and　anon　come　upon　the
sculptor；　when　his　matured　reflecting　powers　would　insist　upon
informing　him　of　the　fearful　lapse　from　reasonableness　that　lay　in　this
infatuation。　　It　threw　him　into　a　sweat。　　What　if　now；　at　last；　he　were
doomed　to　do　penance　for　his　past　emotional　wanderings　（in　a　material
sense）　by　being　chained　in　fatal　fidelity　to　an　object　that　his
intellect　despised？　　One　night　he　dreamt　that　he　saw　dimly　masking
behind　that　young　countenance　'the　Weaver　of　Wiles'　herself；　'with　all
her　subtle　face　laughing　aloud。'

However；　the　Well…Beloved　was　alive　again；　had　been　lost　and　was　found。
He　was　amazed　at　the　change　of　front　in　himself。　　She　had　worn　the
guise　of　strange　women；　she　had　been　a　woman　of　every　class；　from　the
dignified　daughter　of　some　ecclesiastic　or　peer　to　a　Nubian　Almeh　with
her　handkerchief；　undulating　to　the　beats　of　the　tom…tom；　but　all　these
embodiments　had　been　endowed　with　a　certain　smartness；　either　of　the
flesh　or　spirit：　　some　with　wit；　a　few　with　talent；　and　even　genius。
But　the　new　impersonation　had　apparently　nothing　beyond　sex　and
prettiness。　　She　knew　not　how　to　sport　a　fan　or　handkerchief；　hardly
how　to　pull　on　a　glove。

But　her　limited　life　was　innocent；　and　that　went　far。　　Poor　little
Avice！　her　mother's　image：　　there　it　all　lay。　　After　all；　her　parentage
was　as　good　as　his　own；　it　was　misfortune　that　had　sent　her　down　to
this。　　Odd　as　it　seemed　to　him；　her　limitations　were　largely　what　he
loved　her　for。　　Her　rejuvenating　power　over　him　had　ineffable　charm。
He　felt　as　he　had　felt　when　standing　beside　her　predecessor；　but；　alas！
he　was　twenty　years　further　on　towards　the　shade。



2。　VII。　　THE　NEW　BECOMES　ESTABLISHED

A　few　mornings　later　he　was　looking　through　an　upper　back　window　over　a
screened　part　of　the　garden。　　The　door　beneath　him　opened；　and　a　figure
appeared　tripping　forth。　　She　went　round　out　of　sight　to　where　the
gardener　was　at　work；　and　presently　returned　with　a　bunch　of　green
stuff　fluttering　in　each　hand。　　It　was　Avice；　her　dark　hair　now　braided
up　snugly　under　a　cap。　　She　sailed　on　with　a　rapt　and　unconscious　face；
her　thoughts　a　thousand　removes　from　him。

How　she　had　suddenly　come　to　be　an　inmate　of　his　own　house　he　could　not
understand；　till　he　recalled　the　fact　that　he　had　given　the　castle
servants　a　whole　holiday　to　attend　a　review　of　the　yeomanry　in　the
watering…place　over　the　bay；　on　their　stating　that　they　could　provide　a
temporary　substitute　to　stay　in　the　house。　　They　had　evidently　called
in　Avice。　　To　his　great　pleasure　he　discovered　their　opinion　of　his
requirements　to　be　such　a　mean　one　that　they　had　called　in　no　one　else。

The　Spirit；　as　she　seemed　to　him；　brought　his　lunch　into　the　room　where
he　was　writing；　and　he　beheld　her　uncover　it。　　She　went　to　the　window
to　adjust　a　blind　which　had　slipped；　and　he　had　a　good　view　of　her
profile。　　It　was　not　unlike　that　of　one　of　the　three　goddesses　in
Rubens's　'Judgment　of　Paris；'　and　in　contour　was　nigh　perfection。　　But
it　was　in　her　full　face　that　the　vision　of　her　mother　was　most
apparent。

'Did　you　cook　all　this；　Avice？'　he　asked；　arousing　himself。

She　turned　and　half…smiled；　merely　murmuring；　'Yes；　sir。'

Well　he　knew　the　arrangement　of　those　white　teeth。　　In　the　junction　of
two　of　the　upper　ones　there　was　a　slight　irregularity；　no　stranger
would　have　noticed　it；　nor　would　he；　but　that　he　knew　of　the　same　mark
in　her　mother's　mouth；　and　looked　for　it　here。　　Till　Avice　the　Second
had　revealed　it　this　moment　by　her　smile；　he　had　never　beheld　that　mark
since　the　parting　from　Avice　the　First；　when　she　had　smiled　under　his
kiss　as　the　copy　had　done　now。

Next　morning；　when　dressing；　he　heard　her　through　the　ricketty　floor　of
the　building　engaged　in　conversation　with　the　other　servants。　　Having
by　this　time　regularly　installed　herself　as　the　exponent　of　the　Long…
pursuedas　one　who；　by　no　initiative　of　his　own；　had　been　chosen　by
some　superior　Power　as　the　vehicle　of　her　next　debut；　she　attracted　him
by　the　cadences　of　her　voice；　she　would　suddenly　drop　it　to　a　rich
whisper　of　roguishness；　when　the　slight　rural　monotony　of　its　narrative
speech　disappeared；　and　soul　and　heartor　what　seemed　soul　and　heart
resounded。　　The　charm　lay　in　the　intervals；　using　that　word　in　its
musical　sense。　　She　would　say　a　few　syllables　in　one　note；　and　end　her
sentence　in　a　soft　modulation　upwards；　then　downwards；　then　into　her
own　note　again。　　The　curve　of　sound　was　as　artistic　as　any　line　of
beauty　ever　struck　by　his　pencilas　satisfying　as　the　curves　of　her
who　was　the　World's　Desire。

The　subject　of　her　discourse　he　cared　nothing　aboutit　was　no　more　his
interest　than　his　concern。　　He　took　special　pains　that　in　catching　her
voice　he　might　not　comprehend　her　words。　　To　the　tones　he　had　a　right；
none　to　the　articulations。　　By　degrees　he　could　not　exist　long　without
this　sound。

On　Sunday　evening　he　found　that　she　went　to　church。　　He　followed　behind
her　over　the　open　road；　keeping　his　eye　on　the　little　hat　with　its
bunch　of　cock's　feathers　as　on　a　star。　　When　she　had　passed　in　Pierston
observed　her　position　and　took　a　seat　behind　her。

Engaged　in　the　study　of　her　ear　and　the　nape　of　her　white　neck；　he
suddenly　became　aware　of　the　presence　of　a　lady　still　further　ahead　in
the　aisle；　whose　attire；　though　of　black　materials　in　the　quietest
form；　was　of　a　cut　which　rather　suggested　London　than　this　Ultima
Thule。　　For　the　minute　he　forgot；　in　his　curiosity；　that　Avice
intervened。　　The　lady　turned　her　head　somewhat；　and；　though　she　was
veiled　with　unusual　thickness　for　the　season；　he　seemed　to　recognize
Nichola　Pine…Avon　in　the　form。

Why　should　Mrs。　Pine…Avon　be　there？　Pierston　asked　himself；　if　it
should；　indeed；　be　she。

The　end　of　the　service　saw　his　attention　again　concentrated　on　Avice　to
such　a　degree　that　at　the　critical　moment　of　moving　out　he　forgot　the
mysterious　lady　in　front　of　her；　and　found　that　she　had　left　the　church
by　the　side…door。　　Supposing　it　to　have　been　Mrs。　Pine…Avon；　she　would
probably　be　discovered　staying　at　one　of　the　hotels　at　the　watering…
place　over　the　bay；　and　to　have　come　along　the　Pebble…bank　to　the
island　as　so　many　did；　for　an　evening　drive。　　For　the　present；　however；
the　explanation　was　not　forthcoming；　and　he　did　not　seek　it。

When　he　emerged　from　the　church　the　great　placid　eye　of　the　lighthouse
at　the　Beal　Point　was　open；　and　he　moved　thitherward　a　few　steps　to
escape　Nichola；　or　her　double；　and　the　rest　of　the　congregation。
Turning　at　length；　he　hastened　homeward　along　the　now　deserted
trackway；　intending　to　overtake　the　revitalized　Avice。　　But　he　could
see　nothing　of　her；　and　concluded　that　she　had　walked　too　fast　for　him。
Arrived　at　his　own　gate　he　paused　a　moment；　and　perceived　that　Avice's
little　freehold　was　still　in　darkness。　　She　had　not　come。

He　retraced　his　steps；　but　could　not　find　her；　the　only　persons　on　the
road　being　a　man　and　his　wife；　as　he　knew　them　to　be　though　he　could
not　see　them；　from　the　words　of　the　man

'If　you　had　not　a'ready　married　me；　you'd　cut　my　acquaintance！　　That's
a　pretty　thing　for　a　wife　to　say！'

The　remark　struck　his　ear　unpleasantly；　and　by…and…by　he　went　back
again。　　Avice's　cottage　was　now　lighted：　　she　must　have　come　round　by
the　other　road。　　Satisfied　that　she　was　safely　domiciled　for　the　night
he　opened　the　gate　of　Sylvania　Castle　and　retired　to　his　room　also。


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Eastward　from　the　grounds　the　cliffs　were　rugged　and　the　view　of　the
opposite　coast　picturesque　in　the　extreme。　　A　little　door　from　the　lawn
gave　him　immediate　access　to　the　rocks　and　shore　on　this　side。　　Without
the　door　was　a　dip…well　of　pure　water；　which　possibly　had　supplied　the
inmates　of　the　adjoining　and　now　ruinous　Red　King's　castle　at　the　time
of　its　erection。　　On　a　sunny　morning　he　was　meditating　here　when　he
discerned　a　figure　on　the　shore　below　spreading　white　linen　upon　the
pebbly　strand。

Jocelyn　descended。　　Avice；　as　he　had　supposed；　had　now　returned　to　her
own　occupation。　　Her　shapely　pink　arms；　though　slight；　were　plump
enough　to　show　dimples　at　the　elbows；　and　were　set　off　by　her　purple
cotton　print；　which　the　shore…breeze　licked　and　tantalized。　　He　stood
near；　without　speaking。　　The　wind　dragged　a　shirt…sleeve　from　the
'popple'　or　pebble　which　held　it　down。　　Pierston　stooped　and　put　a
heavier　one　in　its　place。

'Thank　you；'　she　said　quietly。　　She　turned　up　her　hazel　eyes；　and
seemed　gratified　to　perceive　that　her　assistant　was　Pierston。　　She　had
plainly　been　so　wrapped　in　her　own　thoughtsgloomy　thoughts；　by　their
signsthat　she　had　not　considered　him　till　then。

The　young　girl　continued　to　converse　with　him　in　friendly　frankness；
showing　neither　ardour　nor　shyness。　　As　for　loveit　was　evidently
further　from　her　mind　than　even　death　and　dissolution。

When　one　of　the　sheets　became　intractable　Jocelyn　said；　'Do　you　hold　it
down；　and　I'll　put　the　popples。'

She　acquiesced；　and　in　placing　a　pebble　his　hand　touched　hers。

It　was　a　young　hand；　rather　long　and　thin；　a　little　damp　and　coddled
from　her　slopping。　　In　setting　down　the　last　stone　he　laid　it；　by　a
pure　accident；　rather　heavily　on　her　fingers。

'I　am　very；　very　sorry！'　Jocelyn　exclaimed。　　'O；　I　have　bruised　the
skin；　Avice！'　　He　seiz