the little white bird-第34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！



Gardens；　but　I　forget　all　about　him；　I　don't　remember　even　his

name。'〃



This　tame　ending　bored　Bailey；　and　he　drifted　away　from　us；　but

David　still　walked　by　my　side；　and　he　was　grown　so　quiet　that　I

knew　a　storm　was　brewing。　　Suddenly　he　flashed　lightning　on　me。

〃It's　not　true；〃　he　cried；　〃it's　a　lie！〃　　He　gripped　my　hand。　　〃I

sha'n't　never　forget　you；　father。〃



Strange　that　a　little　boy　can　give　so　much　pleasure。



Yet　I　could　go　on。　　〃You　will　forget；　David；　but　there　was　once　a

boy　who　would　have　remembered。〃



〃Timothy？〃　said　he　at　once。　　He　thinks　Timothy　was　a　real　boy；

and　is　very　jealous　of　him。　　He　turned　his　back　to　me；　and　stood

alone　and　wept　passionately；　while　I　waited　for　him。　　You　may　be

sure　I　begged　his　pardon；　and　made　it　all　right　with　him；　and　had

him　laughing　and　happy　again　before　I　let　him　go。　　But

nevertheless　what　I　said　was　true。　　David　is　not　my　boy；　and　he

will　forget。　But　Timothy　would　have　remembered。





XXIV



Barbara



Another　shock　was　waiting　for　me　farther　down　the　story。



For　we　had　resumed　our　adventures；　though　we　seldom　saw　Bailey

now。　　At　long　intervals　we　met　him　on　our　way　to　or　from　the

Gardens；　and；　if　there　was　none　from　Pilkington's　to　mark　him；

methought　he　looked　at　us　somewhat　longingly；　as　if　beneath　his

real　knickerbockers　a　morsel　of　the　egg…shell　still　adhered。

Otherwise　he　gave　David　a　not　unfriendly　kick　in　passing；　and

called　him　〃youngster。〃　　That　was　about　all。



When　Oliver　disappeared　from　the　life　of　the　Gardens　we　had

lofted　him　out　of　the　story；　and　did　very　well　without　him；

extending　our　operations　to　the　mainland；　where　they　were　on　so

vast　a　scale　that　we　were　rapidly　depopulating　the　earth。　　And

then　said　David　one　day；



〃Shall　we　let　Barbara　in？〃



We　had　occasionally　considered　the　giving　of　Bailey's　place　to

some　other　child　of　the　Gardens；　divers　of　David's　year　having

sought　election；　even　with　bribes；　but　Barbara　was　new　to　me。



〃Who　is　she？〃　I　asked。



〃She's　my　sister。〃



You　may　imagine　how　I　gaped。



〃She　hasn't　come　yet；〃　David　said　lightly；　〃but　she's　coming。〃







I　was　shocked；　not　perhaps　so　much　shocked　as　disillusioned；　for

though　I　had　always　suspicioned　Mary　A　as　one　who　harboured　the

craziest　ambitions　when　she　looked　most　humble；　of　such

presumption　as　this　I　had　never　thought　her　capable。



I　wandered　across　the　Broad　Walk　to　have　a　look　at　Irene；　and　she

was　wearing　an　unmistakable　air。　　It　set　me　reflecting　about

Mary's　husband　and　his　manner　the　last　time　we　met；　for　though　I

have　had　no　opportunity　to　say　so；　we　still　meet　now　and　again；

and　he　has　even　dined　with　me　at　the　club。　　On　these　occasions

the　subject　of　Timothy　is　barred；　and　if　by　any　unfortunate

accident　Mary's　name　is　mentioned；　we　immediately　look　opposite

ways　and　a　silence　follows；　in　which　I　feel　sure　he　is　smiling；

and　wonder　what　the　deuce　he　is　smiling　at。　　I　remembered　now

that　I　had　last　seen　him　when　I　was　dining　with　him　at　his　club

（for　he　is　become　member　of　a　club　of　painter　fellows；　and　Mary

is　so　proud　of　this　that　she　has　had　it　printed　on　his　card）；

when　undoubtedly　he　had　looked　preoccupied。　　It　had　been　the

look；　I　saw　now；　of　one　who　shared　a　guilty　secret。



As　all　was　thus　suddenly　revealed　to　me　I　laughed　unpleasantly　at

myself；　for；　on　my　soul；　I　had　been　thinking　well　of　Mary　of

late。　Always　foolishly　inflated　about　David；　she　had　been

grudging　him　even　to　me　during　these　last　weeks；　and　I　had

forgiven　her；　putting　it　down　to　a　mother's　love。　　I　knew　from

the　poor　boy　of　unwonted　treats　she　had　been　giving　him；　I　had

seen　her　embrace　him　furtively　in　a　public　place；　her　every　act；

in　so　far　as　they　were　known　to　me；　had　been　a　challenge　to

whoever　dare　assert　that　she　wanted　anyone　but　David。　　How　could

I；　not　being　a　woman；　have　guessed　that　she　was　really　saying

good…bye　to　him？



Reader；　picture　to　yourself　that　simple　little　boy　playing　about

the　house　at　this　time；　on　the　understanding　that　everything　was

going　on　as　usual。　　Have　not　his　toys　acquired　a　new　pathos；

especially　the　engine　she　bought　him　yesterday？



Did　you　look　him　in　the　face；　Mary；　as　you　gave　him　that　engine？

I　envy　you　not　your　feelings；　ma'am；　when　with　loving　arms　he

wrapped　you　round　for　it。　　That　childish　confidence　of　his　to　me；

in　which　unwittingly　he　betrayed　you；　indicates　that　at　last　you

have　been　preparing　him　for　the　great　change；　and　I　suppose　you

are　capable　of　replying　to　me　that　David　is　still　happy；　and　even

interested。　　But　does　he　know　from　you　what　it　really　means　to

him？　　Rather；　I　do　believe；　you　are　one　who　would　not　scruple　to

give　him　to　understand　that　B　（which　you　may　yet　find　stands　for

Benjamin）　is　primarily　a　gift　for　him。　　In　your　heart；　ma'am；

what　do　you　think　of　this　tricking　of　a　little　boy？



Suppose　David　had　known　what　was　to　happen　before　he　came　to　you；

are　you　sure　he　would　have　come？　　Undoubtedly　there　is　an

unwritten　compact　in　such　matters　between　a　mother　and　her　first…

born；　and　I　desire　to　point　out　to　you　that　he　never　breaks　it。

Again；　what　will　the　other　boys　say　when　they　know？　　You　are

outside　the　criticism　of　the　Gardens；　but　David　is　not。　　Faith；

madam；　I　believe　you　would　have　been　kinder　to　wait　and　let　him

run　the　gauntlet　at　Pilkington's。



You　think　your　husband　is　a　great　man　now　because　they　are

beginning　to　talk　of　his　foregrounds　and　middle　distances　in　the

newspaper　columns　that　nobody　reads。　　I　know　you　have　bought　him

a　velvet　coat；　and　that　he　has　taken　a　large；　airy　and　commodious

studio　in　Mews　Lane；　where　you　are　to　be　found　in　a　soft　material

on　first　and　third　Wednesdays。　　Times　are　changing；　but　shall　I

tell　you　a　story　here；　just　to　let　you　see　that　I　am　acquainted

with　it？



Three　years　ago　a　certain　gallery　accepted　from　a　certain　artist

a　picture　which　he　and　his　wife　knew　to　be　monstrous　fine。　　But

no　one　spoke　of　the　picture；　no　one　wrote　of　it；　and　no　one　made

an　offer　for　it。　　Crushed　was　the　artist；　sorry　for　the　denseness

of　connoisseurs　was　his　wife；　till　the　work　was　bought　by　a

dealer　for　an　anonymous　client；　and　then　elated　were　they　both；

and　relieved　also　to　discover　that　I　was　not　the　buyer。　　He　came

to　me　at　once　to　make　sure　of　this；　and　remained　to　walk　the

floor　gloriously　as　he　told　me　what　recognition　means　to

gentlemen　of　the　artistic　callings。　　O；　the　happy　boy！



But　months　afterward；　rummaging　at　his　home　in　a　closet　that　is

usually　kept　locked；　he　discovered　the　picture；　there　hidden

away。　　His　wife　backed　into　a　corner　and　made　trembling

confession。　　How　could　she　submit　to　see　her　dear's　masterpiece

ignored　by　the　idiot　public；　and　her　dear　himself　plunged　into

gloom　thereby？　　She　knew　as　well　as　he　（for　had　they　not　been

married　for　years？）　how　the　artistic　instinct　hungers　for

recognition；　and　so　with　her　savings　she　bought　the　great　work

anonymously　and　stored　it　away　in　a　closet。　　At　first；　I　believe；

the　man　raved　furiously；　but　by…and…by　he　was　on　his　knees　at　the

feet　of　this　little　darling。　　You　know　who　she　was；　Mary；　but；

bless　me；　I　seem　to　be　praising　you；　and　that　was　not　the

enterprise　on　which　I　set　out。　　What　I　intended　to　convey　was

that　though　you　can　now　venture　on　small　extravagances；　you　seem

to　be　going　too　fast。　　Look　at　it　how　one　may；　this　Barbara　idea

is　undoubtedly　a　bad　business。



How　to　be　even　with　her？　　I　cast　about　for　a　means；　and　on　my

lucky　day　I　did　conceive　my　final　triumph　over　Mary；　at　which　I

have　scarcely　as　yet　dared　to　hint；　lest　by　discovering　it　I

should　spoil　my　plot。　　For　there　has　been　a　plot　all　the　time。



For　long　I　had　known　that　Mary　contemplated　the　writing　of　a

book；　my　informant　being　David；　who；　because　I　have　published　a

little　volume　on　Military　tactics；　and　am　preparing　a　larger　one

on　the　same　subject　（which　I　shall　never　finish）；　likes　to　watch

my　methods　of　composition；　how　I　dip；　and　so　on；　his　desire　being

to　help　her。　　He　may　have　done　this　on　his　own　initiative；　but　it

is　also　quite　possible　that　in　her　desperation　she　urged　him　to

it；　he　certainly　implied　that　she　had　taken　to　book…writing

because　it　must　be　easy　if　I　could　do　it。　　She　also　informed　him

（very　inconsiderately）；　that　I　did　not　print　my　books　myself；　and

this　lowered　me　in　the　eyes　of　David；　for　it　was　for　the　printing

he　had　admired　me　and　boasted　of　me　in　the　Gardens。



〃I　suppose　you　didn't　make　the　boxes　neither；　nor　yet　the

labels；〃　he　said　to　me　in　the　voice　of　one　shorn　of　belief　in

everything。



I　should　say　here　that　my　literary　labours　are　abstruse；　the

token　whereof　is　many　rows　of　boxes　nailed　against　my　walls；　each

labelled　with　a　letter　of　the　alphabet。　　When　I　take　a　note　in　A；

I　drop　its　into　the　A　box；　and　so　on；　much　to　the　satisfaction　of

David；　who　likes　to　drop　them　in　for　me。　　I　had　now　to　admit　that

Wheeler　&　Gibb　made　the　boxes。



〃But　I　made　the　labels　myself；　David。〃



〃They　are　not　so　well　made　as　the　boxes；〃　he　replied。



Thus　I　have　reason　to　wish　ill　to　Mary's　work　of　imagination；　as

I　presumed　it　to　be；　and　I　said　to　him　with　easy　brutality；　〃Tell

her　about　the　boxes；　David；　and　that　no　one　can　begin　a　book

until　they　are　all　full。　　That　will　frighten　her。〃



Soon　thereafter　he　announced　to　me　that　she　had　got　a　box。



〃One　box！〃　I　said　with　a　sneer。



〃She　made　it　herself；〃　retorted　David　hotly。



I　got　little　real　information　from　him　about　the　work；　partly

because　David　loses　his　footing　when　he　descends　to　the

practical；　and　perhaps　still　more　because　he　found　me

unsympathetic。　　But　when　he　blurted　out　the　title；　〃The　Little

White　Bird；〃　I　was　like　one　who　had　read　the　book　to　its　last

page。　　I　knew　at　once　that　the　white　bird　was　the　little　daughter

Mary　would　fain　have　had。　　Somehow　I　had　always　known　that　she

would　like　to　have　a　little　dau