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第47部分

desperate remedies-第47部分

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together; but the great matter having been set at rest; she
persisted in talking only on indifferent subjects。

'Christmas Day; then;' he said; as they were parting at the end of
the shrubbery。

'I meant Old Christmas Day;' she said evasively。

'H'm; people do not usually attach that meaning to the words。'

'No; but I should like it best if it could not be till then?'  It
seemed to be still her instinct to delay the marriage to the utmost。

'Very well; love;' he said gently。  ''Tis a fortnight longer still;
but never mind。  Old Christmas Day。'

9。  THE ELEVENTH OF SEPTEMBER

'There。  It will be on a Friday!'

She sat upon a little footstool gazing intently into the fire。  It
was the afternoon of the day following that of the steward's
successful solicitation of her hand。

'I wonder if it would be proper in me to run across the park and
tell him it is a Friday?' she said to herself; rising to her feet;
looking at her hat lying near; and then out of the window towards
the Old House。  Proper or not; she felt that she must at all hazards
remove the disagreeable; though; as she herself owned; unfounded
impression the coincidence had occasioned。  She left the house
directly; and went to search for him。

Manston was in the timber…yard; looking at the sawyers as they
worked。  Cytherea came up to him hesitatingly。  Till within a
distance of a few yards she had hurried forward with alacritynow
that the practical expression of his face became visible she wished
almost she had never sought him on such an errand; in his business…
mood he was perhaps very stern。

'It will be on a Friday;' she said confusedly; and without any
preface。

'Come this way!' said Manston; in the tone he used for workmen; not
being able to alter at an instant's notice。  He gave her his arm and
led her back into the avenue; by which time he was lover again。  'On
a Friday; will it; dearest?  You do not mind Fridays; surely?
That's nonsense。'

'Not seriously mind them; exactlybut if it could be any other
day?'

'Well; let us say Old Christmas Eve; then。  Shall it be Old
Christmas Eve?'

'Yes; Old Christmas Eve。'

'Your word is solemn; and irrevocable now?'

'Certainly; I have solemnly pledged my word; I should not have
promised to marry you if I had not meant it。  Don't think I should。'
She spoke the words with a dignified impressiveness。

'You must not be vexed at my remark; dearest。  Can you think the
worse of an ardent man; Cytherea; for showing some anxiety in love?'

'No; no。'  She could not say more。  She was always ill at ease when
he spoke of himself as a piece of human nature in that analytical
way; and wanted to be out of his presence。  The time of day; and the
proximity of the house; afforded her a means of escape。  'I must be
with Miss Aldclyffe nowwill you excuse my hasty coming and going?'
she said prettily。  Before he had replied she had parted from him。

'Cytherea; was it Mr。 Manston I saw you scudding away from in the
avenue just now?' said Miss Aldclyffe; when Cytherea joined her。

'Yes。'

'〃Yes。〃  Come; why don't you say more than that?  I hate those
taciturn 〃Yesses〃 of yours。  I tell you everything; and yet you are
as close as wax with me。'

'I parted from him because I wanted to come in。'

'What a novel and important announcement!  Well; is the day fixed?'

'Yes。'

Miss Aldclyffe's face kindled into intense interest at once。  'Is it
indeed?  When is it to be?'

'On Old Christmas Eve。'

'Old Christmas Eve。'  Miss Aldclyffe drew Cytherea round to her
front; and took a hand in each of her own。  'And then you will be a
bride!' she said slowly; looking with critical thoughtfulness upon
the maiden's delicately rounded cheeks。

The normal area of the colour upon each of them decreased
perceptibly after that slow and emphatic utterance by the elder
lady。

Miss Aldclyffe continued impressively; 'You did not say 〃Old
Christmas Eve〃 as a fiancee should have said the words:  and you
don't receive my remark with the warm excitement that foreshadows a
bright future。 。 。  How many weeks are there to the time?'

'I have not reckoned them。'

'Not?  Fancy a girl not counting the weeks!  I find I must take the
lead in this matteryou are so childish; or frightened; or stupid;
or something; about it; Bring me my diary; and we will count them at
once。'

Cytherea silently fetched the book。

Miss Aldclyffe opened the diary at the page containing the almanac;
and counted sixteen weeks; which brought her to the thirty…first of
Decembera Sunday。  Cytherea stood by; looking on as if she had no
appetite for the scene。

'Sixteen to the thirty…first。  Then let me see; Monday will be the
first of January; Tuesday the second; Wednesday third; Thursday
fourth; Friday fifthyou have chosen a Friday; as I declare!'

'A Thursday; surely?' said Cytherea。

'No:  Old Christmas Day comes on a Saturday。'

The perturbed little brain had reckoned wrong。  'Well; it must be a
Friday;' she murmured in a reverie。

'No:  have it altered; of course;' said Miss Aldclyffe cheerfully。
'There's nothing bad in Friday; but such a creature as you will be
thinking about its being unluckyin fact; I wouldn't choose a
Friday myself to be married on; since all the other days are equally
available。'

'I shall not have it altered;' said Cytherea firmly; 'it has been
altered once already:  I shall let it be。'



XIII。  THE EVENTS OF ONE DAY

1。  THE FIFTH OF JANUARY。  BEFORE DAWN

We pass over the intervening weeks。  The time of the story is thus
advanced more than a quarter of a year。

On the midnight preceding the morning which would make her the wife
of a man whose presence fascinated her into involuntariness of
bearing; and whom in absence she almost dreaded; Cytherea lay in her
little bed; vainly endeavouring to sleep。

She had been looking back amid the years of her short though varied
past; and thinking of the threshold upon which she stood。  Days and
months had dimmed the form of Edward Springrove like the gauzes of a
vanishing stage…scene; but his dying voice could still be heard
faintly behind。  That a soft small chord in her still vibrated true
to his memory; she would not admit:  that she did not approach
Manston with feelings which could by any stretch of words be called
hymeneal; she calmly owned。

'Why do I marry him?' she said to herself。  'Because Owen; dear Owen
my brother; wishes me to marry him。  Because Mr。 Manston is; and has
been; uniformly kind to Owen; and to me。  〃Act in obedience to the
dictates of common…sense;〃 Owen said; 〃and dread the sharp sting of
poverty。  How many thousands of women like you marry every year for
the same reason; to secure a home; and mere ordinary; material
comforts; which after all go far to make life endurable; even if not
supremely happy。〃

''Tis right; I suppose; for him to say that。  O; if people only knew
what a timidity and melancholy upon the subject of her future grows
up in the heart of a friendless woman who is blown about like a reed
shaken with the wind; as I am; they would not call this resignation
of one's self by the name of scheming to get a husband。  Scheme to
marry?  I'd rather scheme to die!  I know I am not pleasing my
heart; I know that if I only were concerned; I should like risking a
single future。  But why should I please my useless self overmuch;
when by doing otherwise I please those who are more valuable than
I?'

In the midst of desultory reflections like these; which alternated
with surmises as to the inexplicable connection that appeared to
exist between her intended husband and Miss Aldclyffe; she heard
dull noises outside the walls of the house; which she could not
quite fancy to be caused by the wind。  She seemed doomed to such
disturbances at critical periods of her existence。  'It is strange;'
she pondered; 'that this my last night in Knapwater House should be
disturbed precisely as my first was; no occurrence of the kind
having intervened。'

As the minutes glided by the noise increased; sounding as if some
one were beating the wall below her window with a bunch of switches。
She would gladly have left her room and gone to stay with one of the
maids; but they were without doubt all asleep。

The only person in the house likely to be awake; or who would have
brains enough to comprehend her nervousness; was Miss Aldclyffe; but
Cytherea never cared to go to Miss Aldclyffe's room; though she was
always welcome there; and was often almost compelled to go against
her will。

The oft…repeated noise of switches grew heavier upon the wall; and
was now intermingled with creaks; and a rattling like the rattling
of dice。  The wind blew stronger; there came first a snapping; then
a crash; and some portion of the mystery was revealed。  It was the
breaking off and fall of a branch from one of the large trees
outside。  The smacking against the wall; and the intermediate
rattling; ceased from that time。

Well; it was the tree which had caused the noises。  The unexplained
matter was that neither of the trees ever touched the walls of the
house during the highest wind; and that trees could not rattle like
a man playing castanets or shaking dice。

She thought; 'Is it the intention of Fate that something connected
with these noises shall influence my future as in the last case of
the kind?'

During the dilemma she fell into a troubled sleep; and dreamt that
she was being whipped with dry bones suspended on strings; which
rattled at every blow like those of a malefactor on a gibbet; that
she shifted and shrank and avoided every blow; and they fell then
upon the wall to which she was tied。  She could not see the face of
the executioner for his mask; but his form was like Manston's。

'Thank Heaven!' she said; when she awoke and saw a faint light
struggling through her blind。  'Now what were those noises?'  To
settle that question seemed more to her than the event of the day。

She pulled the blind aside and looked out。  All was plain。  The
evening previous had closed in with a grey drizzle; borne upon a
piercing air from the north; and now its effects were visible。  The
hoary drizzle still continued; but the trees and shrubs were laden

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