the unbearable bassington-第5部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



Excellency　and　Comus。　　The　boy　had　from　the　first　shewn　very　little　

gratification　at　the　prospect　of　his　deportation。　　To　live　on　a　

remote　shark…girt　island；　as　he　expressed　it；　with　the　Jull　family　

as　his　chief　social　mainstay；　and　Sir　Julian's　conversation　as　a　

daily　item　of　his　existence；　did　not　inspire　him　with　the　same　

degree　of　enthusiasm　as　was　displayed　by　his　mother　and　uncle；　who；　

after　all；　were　not　making　the　experiment。　　Even　the　necessity　for　

an　entirely　new　outfit　did　not　appeal　to　his　imagination　with　the　

force　that　might　have　been　expected。　　But；　however　lukewarm　his　

adhesion　to　the　project　might　be；　Francesca　and　her　brother　were　

clearly　determined　that　no　lack　of　deft　persistence　on　their　part　

should　endanger　its　success。　　It　was　for　the　purpose　of　reminding　

Sir　Julian　of　his　promise　to　meet　Comus　at　lunch　on　the　following　

day；　and　definitely　settle　the　matter　of　the　secretaryship　that　

Francesca　was　now　enduring　the　ordeal　of　a　long　harangue　on　the　

value　of　the　West　Indian　group　as　an　Imperial　asset。　　Other　

listeners　dexterously　detached　themselves　one　by　one；　but　

Francesca's　patience　outlasted　even　Sir　Julian's　flow　of　

commonplaces；　and　her　devotion　was　duly　rewarded　by　a　renewed　

acknowledgment　of　the　lunch　engagement　and　its　purpose。　　She　pushed　

her　way　back　through　the　throng　of　starling…voiced　chatterers　

fortified　by　a　sense　of　well…earned　victory。　　Dear　Serena's　absurd　

SALONS　served　some　good　purpose　after　all。



Francesca　was　not　an　early　riser　and　her　breakfast　was　only　just　

beginning　to　mobilise　on　the　breakfast…table　next　morning　when　a　

copy　of　THE　TIMES；　sent　by　special　messenger　from　her　brother's　

house；　was　brought　up　to　her　room。　　A　heavy　margin　of　blue　

pencilling　drew　her　attention　to　a　prominently…printed　letter　which　

bore　the　ironical　heading：　〃Julian　Jull；　Proconsul。〃　　The　matter　of　

the　letter　was　a　cruel　dis…interment　of　some　fatuous　and　forgotten　

speeches　made　by　Sir　Julian　to　his　constituents　not　many　years　ago；　

in　which　the　value　of　some　of　our　Colonial　possessions；　

particularly　certain　West　Indian　islands；　was　decried　in　a　medley　

of　pomposity；　ignorance　and　amazingly　cheap　humour。　　The　extracts　

given　sounded　weak　and　foolish　enough；　taken　by　themselves；　but　the　

writer　of　the　letter　had　interlarded　them　with　comments　of　his　own；　

which　sparkled　with　an　ironical　brilliance　that　was　Cervantes…like　

in　its　polished　cruelty。　　Remembering　her　ordeal　of　the　previous　

evening　Francesca　permitted　herself　a　certain　feeling　of　amusement　

as　she　read　the　merciless　stabs　inflicted　on　the　newly…appointed　

Governor；　then　she　came　to　the　signature　at　the　foot　of　the　letter；　

and　the　laughter　died　out　of　her　eyes。　　〃Comus　Bassington〃　stared　

at　her　from　above　a　thick　layer　of　blue　pencil　lines　marked　by　

Henry　Greech's　shaking　hand。



Comus　could　no　more　have　devised　such　a　letter　than　he　could　have　

written　an　Episcopal　charge　to　the　clergy　of　any　given　diocese。　　It　

was　obviously　the　work　of　Courtenay　Youghal；　and　Comus；　for　a　

palpable　purpose　of　his　own；　had　wheedled　him　into　foregoing　for　

once　the　pride　of　authorship　in　a　clever　piece　of　political　

raillery；　and　letting　his　young　friend　stand　sponsor　instead。　　It　

was　a　daring　stroke；　and　there　could　be　no　question　as　to　its　

success；　the　secretaryship　and　the　distant　shark…girt　island　faded　

away　into　the　horizon　of　impossible　things。　　Francesca；　forgetting　

the　golden　rule　of　strategy　which　enjoins　a　careful　choosing　of　

ground　and　opportunity　before　entering　on　hostilities；　made　

straight　for　the　bathroom　door；　behind　which　a　lively　din　of　

splashing　betokened　that　Comus　had　at　least　begun　his　toilet。



〃You　wicked　boy；　what　have　you　done？〃　she　cried；　reproachfully。



〃Me　washee；〃　came　a　cheerful　shout；　〃me　washee　from　the　neck　all　

the　way　down　to　the　merrythought；　and　now　washee　down　from　the　

merrythought　to　…　〃



〃You　have　ruined　your　future。　　THE　TIMES　has　printed　that　miserable　

letter　with　your　signature。〃



A　loud　squeal　of　joy　came　from　the　bath。　　〃Oh；　Mummy！　　Let　me　see！〃



There　were　sounds　as　of　a　sprawling　dripping　body　clambering　

hastily　out　of　the　bath。　　Francesca　fled。　　One　cannot　effectively　

scold　a　moist　nineteen…year　old　boy　clad　only　in　a　bath…towel　and　a　

cloud　of　steam。



Another　messenger　arrived　before　Francesca's　breakfast　was　over。　　

This　one　brought　a　letter　from　Sir　Julian　Jull；　excusing　himself　

from　fulfilment　of　the　luncheon　engagement。







CHAPTER　IV







FRANCESCA　prided　herself　on　being　able　to　see　things　from　other　

people's　points　of　view；　which　meant；　as　it　usually　does；　that　she　

could　see　her　own　point　of　view　from　various　aspects。　　As　regards　

Comus；　whose　doings　and　non…doings　bulked　largely　in　her　thoughts　

at　the　present　moment；　she　had　mapped　out　in　her　mind　so　clearly　

what　his　outlook　in　life　ought　to　be；　that　she　was　peculiarly　

unfitted　to　understand　the　drift　of　his　feelings　or　the　impulses　

that　governed　them。　　Fate　had　endowed　her　with　a　son；　in　limiting　

the　endowment　to　a　solitary　offspring　Fate　had　certainly　shown　a　

moderation　which　Francesca　was　perfectly　willing　to　acknowledge　and　

be　thankful　for；　but　then；　as　she　pointed　out　to　a　certain　

complacent　friend　of　hers　who　cheerfully　sustained　an　endowment　of　

half…a…dozen　male　offsprings　and　a　girl　or　two；　her　one　child　was　

Comus。　　Moderation　in　numbers　was　more　than　counterbalanced　in　his　

case　by　extravagance　in　characteristics。



Francesca　mentally　compared　her　son　with　hundreds　of　other　young　

men　whom　she　saw　around　her；　steadily；　and　no　doubt　happily；　

engaged　in　the　process　of　transforming　themselves　from　nice　boys　

into　useful　citizens。　　Most　of　them　had　occupations；　or　were　

industriously　engaged　in　qualifying　for　such；　in　their　leisure　

moments　they　smoked　reasonably…priced　cigarettes；　went　to　the　

cheaper　seats　at　music…halls；　watched　an　occasional　cricket　match　

at　Lord's　with　apparent　interest；　saw　most　of　the　world's　

spectacular　events　through　the　medium　of　the　cinematograph；　and　

were　wont　to　exchange　at　parting　seemingly　superfluous　injunctions　

to　〃be　good。〃　　The　whole　of　Bond　Street　and　many　of　the　tributary　

thoroughfares　of　Piccadilly　might　have　been　swept　off　the　face　of　

modern　London　without　in　any　way　interfering　with　the　supply　of　

their　daily　wants。　　They　were　doubtless　dull　as　acquaintances；　but　

as　sons　they　would　have　been　eminently　restful。　　With　a　growing　

sense　of　irritation　Francesca　compared　these　deserving　young　men　

with　her　own　intractable　offspring；　and　wondered　why　Fate　should　

have　singled　her　out　to　be　the　parent　of　such　a　vexatious　variant　

from　a　comfortable　and　desirable　type。　　As　far　as　remunerative　

achievement　was　concerned；　Comus　copied　the　insouciance　of　the　

field　lily　with　a　dangerous　fidelity。　　Like　his　mother　he　looked　

round　with　wistful　irritation　at　the　example　afforded　by　

contemporary　youth；　but　he　concentrated　his　attention　exclusively　

on　the　richer　circles　of　his　acquaintance；　young　men　who　bought　

cars　and　polo　ponies　as　unconcernedly　as　he　might　purchase　a　

carnation　for　his　buttonhole；　and　went　for　trips　to　Cairo　or　the　

Tigris　valley　with　less　difficulty　and　finance…stretching　than　he　

encountered　in　contriving　a　week…end　at　Brighton。



Gaiety　and　good…looks　had　carried　Comus　successfully　and；　on　the　

whole；　pleasantly；　through　schooldays　and　a　recurring　succession　of　

holidays；　the　same　desirable　assets　were　still　at　his　service　to　

advance　him　along　his　road；　but　it　was　a　disconcerting　experience　

to　find　that　they　could　not　be　relied　on　to　go　all　distances　at　all　

times。　　In　an　animal　world；　and　a　fiercely　competitive　animal　world　

at　that；　something　more　was　needed　than　the　decorative　ABANDON　of　

the　field　lily；　and　it　was　just　that　something　more　which　Comus　

seemed　unable　or　unwilling　to　provide　on　his　own　account；　it　was　

just　the　lack　of　that　something　more　which　left　him　sulking　with　

Fate　over　the　numerous　breakdowns　and　stumbling…blocks　that　held　

him　up　on　what　he　expected　to　be　a　triumphal　or；　at　any　rate；　

unimpeded　progress。



Francesca　was；　in　her　own　way；　fonder　of　Comus　than　of　anyone　else　

in　the　world；　and　if　he　had　been　browning　his　skin　somewhere　east　

of　Suez　she　would　probably　have　kissed　his　photograph　with　genuine　

fervour　every　night　before　going　to　bed；　the　appearance　of　a　

cholera　scare　or　rumour　of　native　rising　in　the　columns　of　her　

daily　news…sheet　would　have　caused　her　a　flutter　of　anxiety；　and　

she　would　have　mentally　likened　herself　to　a　Spartan　mother　

sacrificing　her　best…beloved　on　the　altar　of　State　necessities。　　

But　with　the　best…beloved　installed　under　her　roof；　occupying　an　

unreasonable　amount　of　cubic　space；　and　demanding　daily　sacrifices　

instead　of　providing　the　raw　material　for　one；　her　feelings　were　

tinged　with　irritation　rather　than　affection。　　She　might　have　

forgiven　Comus　generously　for　misdeeds　of　some　gravity　committed　in　

another　continent；　but　she　could　never　overlook　the　fact　that　out　

of　a　dish　of　five　plovers'　eggs　he　was　certain　to　take　three。　　The　

absent　may　be　always　wrong；　but　they　are　seldom　in　a　position　to　be　

inconsiderate。



Thus　a　wall　of　ice　had　grown　up　gradually　between　mother　and　son；　a　

barrier　across　which　they　could　hold　converse；　but　which　gave　a　

wintry　chill　even　to　the　sparkle　of　their　lightest　words。　　The　boy　

had　the　gift　of　being　irresistibly　amusing　when　he　chose　to　exert　

himself　in　that　direction；　and　after　a　long　series　of　moody　or　

jangling　meal…sittings　he　would　break　forth　into　a　torrential　flow　

of　small　talk；　scandal　and　malicious　anecdote；　true　or　more　

generally　invented；　to　which　Francesca　listened　with　a　relish　and　

appreciation；　that　was　all　the　more　flattering　from　being　so　

unwillingly　bestowed。



〃If　you　chose　your　friends　from　a　rather　more　reputable　se