desperate remedies-第46部分

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He　also　mentioned　that　a　wheeled　chair　had　been　anonymously　hired
for　his　especial　use；　though　as　yet　he　was　hardly　far　enough
advanced　towards　convalescence　to　avail　himself　of　the　luxury。　　'Is
this　Mr。　Manston's　doing？'　he　inquired。

She　could　dally　with　her　perplexity；　evade　it；　trust　to　time　for
guidance；　no　longer。　　The　matter　had　come　to　a　crisis：　　she　must
once　and　for　all　choose　between　the　dictates　of　her　understanding
and　those　of　her　heart。　　She　longed；　till　her　soul　seemed　nigh　to
bursting；　for　her　lost　mother's　return　to　earth；　but　for　one　minute；
that　she　might　have　tender　counsel　to　guide　her　through　this；　her
great　difficulty。

As　for　her　heart；　she　half　fancied　that　it　was　not　Edward's　to　quite
the　extent　that　it　once　had　been；　she　thought　him　cruel　in
conducting　himself　towards　her　as　he　did　at　Budmouth；　cruel
afterwards　in　making　so　light　of　her。　　She　knew　he　had　stifled　his
love　for　herwas　utterly　lost　to　her。　　But　for　all　that　she　could
not　help　indulging　in　a　woman's　pleasure　of　recreating　defunct
agonies；　and　lacerating　herself　with　them　now　and　then。

'If　I　were　rich；'　she　thought；　'I　would　give　way　to　the　luxury　of
being　morbidly　faithful　to　him　for　ever　without　his　knowledge。'

But　she　considered；　in　the　first　place　she　was　a　homeless　dependent；
and　what　did　practical　wisdom　tell　her　to　do　under　such　desperate
circumstances？　　To　provide　herself　with　some　place　of　refuge　from
poverty；　and　with　means　to　aid　her　brother　Owen。　　This　was　to　be　Mr。
Manston's　wife。

She　did　not　love　him。

But　what　was　love　without　a　home？　　Misery。　　What　was　a　home　without
love？　　Alas；　not　much；　but　still　a　kind　of　home。

'Yes；'　she　thought；　'I　am　urged　by　my　common　sense　to　marry　Mr。
Manston。'

Did　anything　nobler　in　her　say　so　too？

With　the　death　（to　her）　of　Edward　her　heart's　occupation　was　gone。
Was　it　necessary　or　even　right　for　her　to　tend　it　and　take　care　of
it　as　she　used　to　in　the　old　time；　when　it　was　still　a　capable
minister？

By　a　slight　sacrifice　here　she　could　give　happiness　to　at　least　two
hearts　whose　emotional　activities　were　still　unwounded。　　She　would
do　good　to　two　men　whose　lives　were　far　more　important　than　hers。

'Yes；'　she　said　again；　'even　Christianity　urges　me　to　marry　Mr。
Manston。'

Directly　Cytherea　had　persuaded　herself　that　a　kind　of　heroic　self…
abnegation　had　to　do　with　the　matter；　she　became　much　more　content
in　the　consideration　of　it。　　A　wilful　indifference　to　the　future　was
what　really　prevailed　in　her；　ill　and　worn　out；　as　she　was；　by　the
perpetual　harassments　of　her　sad　fortune；　and　she　regarded　this
indifference；　as　gushing　natures　will　do　under　such　circumstances；
as　genuine　resignation　and　devotedness。

Manston　met　her　again　the　following　day：　　indeed；　there　was　no
escaping　him　now。　　At　the　end　of　a　short　conversation　between　them；
which　took　place　in　the　hollow　of　the　park　by　the　waterfall；
obscured　on　the　outer　side　by　the　low　hanging　branches　of　the　limes；
she　tacitly　assented　to　his　assumption　of　a　privilege　greater　than
any　that　had　preceded　it。　　He　stooped　and　kissed　her　brow。

Before　going　to　bed　she　wrote　to　Owen　explaining　the　whole　matter。
It　was　too　late　in　the　evening　for　the　postman's　visit；　and　she
placed　the　letter　on　the　mantelpiece　to　send　it　the　next　day。

The　morning　（Sunday）　brought　a　hurried　postscript　to　Owen's　letter
of　the　day　before：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　'September　9；　1865。

'DEAR　CYTHEREAI　have　received　a　frank　and　friendly　letter　from　Mr。
Manston　explaining　the　position　in　which　he　stands　now；　and　also
that　in　which　he　hopes　to　stand　towards　you。　Can't　you　love　him？
Why　not？　　Try；　for　he　is　a　good；　and　not　only　that；　but　a　cultured
man。　　Think　of　the　weary　and　laborious　future　that　awaits　you　if　you
continue　for　life　in　your　present　position；　and　do　you　see　any　way
of　escape　from　it　except　by　marriage？　　I　don't。　　Don't　go　against
your　heart；　Cytherea；　but　be　wise。Ever　affectionately　yours；
OWEN。'

She　thought　that　probably　he　had　replied　to　Mr。　Manston　in　the　same
favouring　mood。　　She　had　a　conviction　that　that　day　would　settle　her
doom。　　Yet

　　　　　'So　true　a　fool　is　love；'

that　even　now　she　nourished　a　half…hope　that　something　would　happen
at　the　last　moment　to　thwart　her　deliberately…formed　intentions；　and
favour　the　old　emotion　she　was　using　all　her　strength　to　thrust
down。

8。　　THE　TENTH　OF　SEPTEMBER

The　Sunday　was　the　thirteenth　after　Trinity；　and　the　afternoon
service　at　Carriford　was　nearly　over。　　The　people　were　singing　the
Evening　Hymn。

Manston　was　at　church　as　usual　in　his　accustomed　place　two　seats
forward　from　the　large　square　pew　occupied　by　Miss　Aldclyffe　and
Cytherea。

The　ordinary　sadness　of　an　autumnal　evening…service　seemed；　in
Cytherea's　eyes；　to　be　doubled　on　this　particular　occasion。　　She
looked　at　all　the　people　as　they　stood　and　sang；　waving　backwards
and　forwards　like　a　forest　of　pines　swayed　by　a　gentle　breeze；　then
at　the　village　children　singing　too；　their　heads　inclined　to　one
side；　their　eyes　listlessly　tracing　some　crack　in　the　old　walls；　or
following　the　movement　of　a　distant　bough　or　bird　with　features
petrified　almost　to　painfulness。　　Then　she　looked　at　Manston；　he　was
already　regarding　her　with　some　purpose　in　his　glance。

'It　is　coming　this　evening；'　she　said　in　her　mind。　　A　minute　later；
at　the　end　of　the　hymn；　when　the　congregation　began　to　move　out；
Manston　came　down　the　aisle。　He　was　opposite　the　end　of　her　seat　as
she　stepped　from　it；　the　remainder　of　their　progress　to　the　door
being　in　contact　with　each　other。　　Miss　Aldclyffe　had　lingered
behind。

'Don't　let's　hurry；'　he　said；　when　Cytherea　was　about　to　enter　the
private　path　to　the　House　as　usual。　　'Would　you　mind　turning　down
this　way　for　a　minute　till　Miss　Aldclyffe　has　passed？'

She　could　not　very　well　refuse　now。　　They　turned　into　a　secluded
path　on　their　left；　leading　round　through　a　thicket　of　laurels　to
the　other　gate　of　the　church…yard；　walking　very　slowly。　　By　the　time
the　further　gate　was　reached；　the　church　was　closed。　　They　met　the
sexton　with　the　keys　in　his　hand。

'We　are　going　inside　for　a　minute；'　said　Manston　to　him；　taking　the
keys　unceremoniously。　　'I　will　bring　them　to　you　when　we　return。'

The　sexton　nodded　his　assent；　and　Cytherea　and　Manston　walked　into
the　porch；　and　up　the　nave。

They　did　not　speak　a　word　during　their　progress；　or　in　any　way
interfere　with　the　stillness　and　silence　that　prevailed　everywhere
around　them。　　Everything　in　the　place　was　the　embodiment　of　decay：
the　fading　red　glare　from　the　setting　sun；　which　came　in　at　the　west
window；　emphasizing　the　end　of　the　day　and　all　its　cheerful　doings；
the　mildewed　walls；　the　uneven　paving…stones；　the　wormy　pews；　the
sense　of　recent　occupation；　and　the　dank　air　of　death　which　had
gathered　with　the　evening；　would　have　made　grave　a　lighter　mood　than
Cytherea's　was　then。

'What　sensations　does　the　place　impress　you　with？'　she　said　at　last；
very　sadly。

'I　feel　imperatively　called　upon　to　be　honest；　from　very　despair　of
achieving　anything　by　stratagem　in　a　world　where　the　materials　are
such　as　these。'　　He；　too；　spoke　in　a　depressed　voice；　purposely　or
otherwise。

'I　feel　as　if　I　were　almost　ashamed　to　be　seen　walking　such　a
world；'　she　murmured；　'that's　the　effect　it　has　upon　me；　but　it　does
not　induce　me　to　be　honest　particularly。'

He　took　her　hand　in　both　his；　and　looked　down　upon　the　lids　of　her
eyes。

'I　pity　you　sometimes；'　he　said　more　emphatically。

'I　am　pitiable；　perhaps；　so　are　many　people。　　Why　do　you　pity　me？'

'I　think　that　you　make　yourself　needlessly　sad。'

'Not　needlessly。'

'Yes；　needlessly。　　Why　should　you　be　separated　from　your　brother　so
much；　when　you　might　have　him　to　stay　with　you　till　he　is　well？'

'That　can't　be；'　she　said；　turning　away。

He　went　on；　'I　think　the　real　and　only　good　thing　that　can　be　done
for　him　is　to　get　him　away　from　Budmouth　awhile；　and　I　have　been
wondering　whether　it　could　not　be　managed　for　him　to　come　to　my
house　to　live　for　a　few　weeks。　　Only　a　quarter　of　a　mile　from　you。
How　pleasant　it　would　be！'

'It　would。'

He　moved　himself　round　immediately　to　the　front　of　her；　and　held　her
hand　more　firmly；　as　he　continued；　'Cytherea；　why　do　you　say　〃It
would；〃　so　entirely　in　the　tone　of　abstract　supposition？　　I　want　him
there：　　I　want　him　to　be　my　brother；　too。　　Then　make　him　so；　and　be
my　wife！　　I　cannot　live　without　you。　　O　Cytherea。　　my　darling；　my
love；　come　and　be　my　wife！'

His　face　bent　closer　and　closer　to　hers；　and　the　last　words　sank　to
a　whisper　as　weak　as　the　emotion　inspiring　it　was　strong。

She　said　firmly　and　distinctly；　'Yes；　I　will。'

'Next　month？'　he　said　on　the　instant；　before　taking　breath。

'No；　not　next　month。'

'The　next？'

'No。'

'December？　　Christmas　Day；　say？'

'I　don't　mind。'

'O；　you　darling！'　　He　was　about　to　imprint　a　kiss　upon　her　pale；
cold　mouth；　but　she　hastily　covered　it　with　her　hand。

'Don't　kiss　meat　least　where　we　are　now！'　she　whispered
imploringly。

'Why？'

'We　are　too　near　God。'

He　gave　a　sudden　start；　and　his　face　flushed。　　She　had　spoken　so
emphatically　that　the　words　'Near　God'　echoed　back　again　through　the
hollow　building　from　the　far　end　of　the　chancel。

'What　a　thing　to　say！'　he　exclaimed；　'surely　a　pure　kiss　is　not
inappropriate　to　the　place　！'

'No；'　she　replied；　with　a　swelling　heart；　'I　don't　know　why　I　burst
out　soI　can't　tell　what　has　come　over　me！　　Will　you　forgive　me？'

'How　shall　I　say　〃Yes〃　without　judging　you？　　How　shall　I　say　〃No〃
without　losing　the　pleasure　of　saying　〃Yes？〃'　　He　was　himself　again。

'I　don't　know；'　she　absently　murmured。

'I'll　say　〃Yes；〃'　he　answered　daintily。　　'It　is　sweeter　to　fancy　we
are　forgiven；　than　to　think　we　have　not　sinned；　and　you　shall　have
the　sweetness　without　the　need。'

She　did　not　reply；　and　they　moved　away。　　The　church　was　nearly　dark
now；　and　melancholy　in　the　extreme。　　She　stood　beside　him　while　he
locked　the　door；　then　took　the　arm　he　gave　her；　and　wound　her　way
out　of　the　churchyard　with　him。　　Then　they　walked　to　the　house
together；　but　the　great　matter　having　been　set　at　rest；　she
persisted　in　tal