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