the captives-第76部分

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ss　of　her　own　imprisonment。　It　was　perhaps　from　that　moment　that　she　began　to　be　definitely　unhappy　in　her　own　life；　that　she　realised　with　that　sudden　inspiration　that　is　given　to　us　on　occasion；　how　hostile　Grace　was　becoming；　how　strange　and　unreal　was　Paul；　and　how　far　away　was　every　one　else！

Just　below　her　on　the　sand　a　happy　family　played…some　babies；　two　little　boys　digging；　the　father　smoking；　his　hat　tilted　over　his　eyes　against　the　sun；　the　mother　finding　biscuits　in　a　bag　for　the　youngest　infant。　It　was　a　very　merry　family　and　full　of　laughter。　The　youngest　baby　looked　up　and　saw　Maggie　standing　all　alone　there；　and　crowed。　Then　all　the　family　looked　up；　the　boys　suspended　their　digging；　father　tilted　back　his　hat；　the　mother　shyly　smiled。

Maggie　smiled　back；　and　then；　overcome　by　so　poignant　a　feeling　of　loneliness；　tempted；　too；　almost　irresistibly　to　run　down　the　steps；　join　them　on　the　sand；　build　castles；　play　with　the　babies；　she　hurried　away　lest　she　should　give　way。

〃I　must　be　pretending　at　being　married；〃　she　thought　to　herself。　〃I　don't　feel　married　at　all。　I'm　not　natural。　If　I　were　sitting　on　the　sand　digging　I'd　be　quite　natural。　No　wonder　Grace　thinks　me　tiresome。　But　how　does　one　get　older　and　grown　up？　What　is　one　to　do？〃

She　did　not　trust　herself　to　go　down　to　the　sands　again　that　summer。　The　autumn　came；　the　woods　turned　to　gold；　the　sea　was　flurried　with　rain；　and　the　Church　began　to　fill　the　horizon。　The　autumn　and　the　winter　were　the　times　of　the　Church's　High　Festival。　Paul；　as　though　he　were　aware　that　he　had；　during　these　last　months；　been　hovering　about　strange　places　and　peering　into　dark　windows；　busied　himself　about　the　affairs　of　his　parish　with　an　energy　that　surprised　every　one。

Maggie　was　aware　of　a　number　of　young　women　of　whom　before　she　had　been　unconscious。　Miss　Carmichael；　Misses　Mary　and　Jane　Bethel；　Miss　Clarice　Hendon；　Miss　Polly　Jones　。　。　。　some　of　these　pretty　girls；　all　of　them　terribly　modern；　strident；　self…assured；　scornful；　it　seemed　to　Maggie。　At　first　she　was　frightened　of　them　as　she　had　never　been　frightened　of　any　one　before。　They　did　look　at　her；　of　course；　as　though　they　thought　her　strange；　and　then　they　soon　discovered　that　she　knew　nothing　at　all　about　life。

Their　two　chief　employments；　woven　in；　as　it　were；　to　the　web　of　their　church　assistance；　were　Love　and　Mockery…flirtations；　broken　engagements；　refusals；　acceptances；　and；　on　the　other　hand；　jokes　about　everybody　and　everything。　Maggie　soon　discovered　that　Grace　was　one　of　their　favourite　Aunt　Sallies；　this　made　her　very　angry；　and　she　showed　so　plainly　her　indignation　on　the　first　occasion　of　their　wit　that　they　never　laughed　at　Grace　in　Maggie's　presence　again。

Maggie　felt；　after　this；　very　tender　and　sympathetic　towards　Grace；　until　she　discovered　that　her　good　sister…in…law　was　quite　unaware　that　any　one　laughed　at　her　and　would　have　refused　to　believe　it　had　she　been　told。　At　the　same　time　there　went　strangely　with　this　confidence　an　odd　perpetual　suspicion。　Grace　was　for　ever　on　guard　against　laughter；　and　nothing　made　her　more　indignant　than　to　come　into　a　room　and　see　that　people　suddenly　ceased　their　conversation。　Maggie；　however；　did　try　this　autumn　to　establish　friendly　relations　with　Grace。　It　seemed　to　her　that　it　was　the　little　things　that　were　against　the　friendliness　rather　than　the　big　ones。　How　she　seriously　blamed　herself　for　an　irritation　that　was　really　childish。　Who；　for　instance；　a　grown　woman　and　married；　could　do　other　than　blame　herself　for　being　irritated　by　Grace's　habit　of　not　finishing　her　sentences。　Grace　would　say：

〃Maggie；　did　you　remember　to…oh　well；　it　doesn't　matter〃

〃Remember　what；　Grace？〃

〃No；　really　it　doesn't　matter。　It　was　only　that〃

〃But　Grace；　do　tell　me；　because　otherwise　you'll　be　blaming　me　for　something　I　ought　to　have　done。〃

〃Blaming　you！　Why；　Maggie；　to　hear　you　talk　any　one　would　think　that　I　was　always　scolding　you。　Of　course　if　that's　what　you　feel〃

〃No；　no；　I　don't。　But　I'm　so　careless。　I　forget　things　so。　I　don't　want　to　forget　something　that　I　ought　to　do。〃

〃Yes；　you　are　careless；　Maggie。　That's　quite　true。　It's　one　of　your　faults。〃

（Strange　how　willing　we　are　ourselves　to　admit　a　fault　and　irritated　when　a　friend　agrees　about　it　with　us。）

〃Oh；　I'm　not　always　careless；〃　said　Maggie。

〃Often　you　are；　dear；　aren't　you？　You　must　learn。　I'm　sure　you'll　improve　in　time。　I　wonder　whether…but　no；　I　decided　I　wouldn't　bother；　didn't　I？　Still　perhaps；　after　allNo；　I　daresay　it's　wiser　to　leave　it　alone。〃

Another　little　thing　that　the　autumn　emphasised　was　Grace's　inability　to　discover　when　a　complaint　or　a　remonstrance　was　decently　deceased。　One　evening　Paul；　going　out　in　a　hurry；　asked　Maggie　to　give　Grace　the　message　that　Evensong　would　be　at　6。30　instead　of　7　that　day。　Maggie　forgot　to　give　the　message　and　Grace　arrived　at　the　Church　during　the　reading　of　the　second　lesson。

〃Oh　Grace；　I'm　so　sorry！〃　said　Maggie。

〃It　doesn't　matter；〃　said　Grace；　〃but　how　you　could　forget；　Maggie；　is　so　strange！　Do　try　not　to　forget　things。　I　know　it　worries　Paul。　For　myself　I　don't　care；　although　I　do　value　punctuality　and　memory…　I　do　indeed。　What　I　mean　is　that　it　isn't　for　my　own　happiness　that　I　mind〃

〃I　don't　want　to　forget；〃　said　Maggie。　〃One　would　think　to　hear　you；　Grace；　that　you　imagine　I　like　forgetting。〃

〃Really；　Maggie；〃　said　Grace；　〃I　don't　think　that's　quite　the　way　to　speak　to　me。〃

And　again　and　again　throughout　the　long　winter　this　little　episode　figured。

〃You'll　remember　to　be　punctual；　won't　you；　Maggie？　Not　like　the　time　when　you　forgot　to　tell　me。〃

〃You'll　forgive　me　reminding　you；　Maggie；　but　I　didn't　want　it　to　be　like　the　time　you　forgot　to　give　me〃

〃Oh；　you'd　better　not　trust　to　Maggie；　Paul。　Only　the　other　day　when　you　gave　her　the　message　about　Evensong〃

Grace　meant　no　harm　by　this。　Her　mind　moved　slowly　and　was　entangled　by　a　vast　quantity　of　useless　lumber。　She　was　really　shocked　by　carelessness　and　inaccuracy　because　she　was　radically　careless　and　inaccurate　herself　but　didn't　know　it。

〃If　there's　one　thing　I　value　it's　order。〃　she　would　say；　but　in　struggling　to　remember　superficial　things　she　forgot　all　essentials。　Her　brain　moved　just　half　as　slowly　as　everything　else。

That　winter　was　warm　and　muggy；　with　continuous　showers　of　warm　rain　that　seamed　to　change　into　mud　in　the　air　as　it　fell。

The　Church　was　filled　with　the　clammy　mist　of　its　central　heating。　Maggie；　as　she　sat　through　service　after　service；　watched　one　headache　race　after　another。　The　air　was　full　of　headache；　she　asked　once　that　a　window　might　be　kept　open。　〃That　would　mean　Death　in　Skeaton。　You　don't　understand　the　Skeaton　air；〃　said　Grace。

〃That's　because　I　don't　get　enough　of　it；〃　said　Maggie。　She　found　herself　looking　back　to　the　Chapel　services　with　wistful　regret。　What　had　there　been　there　that　was　not　here？　Here　everything　was　ordered；　arranged；　in　decent　sequence；　in　regular　symmetry　and　progression。　And　yet　no　one　seemed　to　Maggie　to　listen　to　what　they　were　saying；　and　no　one　thought　of　the　meaning　of　the　words　that　they　used。

And　if　they　did；　of　what　use　would　it　be？　The　affair　was　all　settled；　heaven　was　arrayed；　parcelled　out；　its　very　streets　and　courts　mapped　and　described。　It　was　the　destination　of　every　one　in　the　building　as　surely　as　though　they　were　travelling　to　London　by　the　morning　express。　They　were　sated　with　knowledge　of　their　destinyno　curiosity；　no　wonder；　no　agitation；　no　fear。　Even　the　words　of　the　most　beautiful　prayers　had　ceased　to　have　any　meaning　because　the　matter　had　been　settled　so　long　ago　and　there　was　nothing　more　to　be　said。　How　that　Chapel　had　throbbed　with　expectation；　with　amaze；　with　curiosity；　with　struggle！　Foolish　much　of　it　perhaps；　stifling　it　had　seemed　then　in　its　superstition。　Maggie　had　been　afraid　then；　so　afraid　that　she　could　not　sleep　at　nights。　How　she　longed　now　for　that　fear　to　return　to　her！

At　this　point　she　would　discover　that　she　was　beckoning　back　to　her　the　figures　of　that　other　world。　They　must　not　come　。　。　。　the　two　worlds　must　not　join　or　she　was　lost　。　。　。　she　turned　her　back　from　her　memories　and　her　desires。

During　this　winter　there　were　the　two　affairs　of　Mr。　Toms　and　Caroline。

Maggie　carried　out　her　resolve　of　calling　on　Mr。　Toms。　She　did　it　one　dark　afternoon　a　few　days　before　Christmas；　moved；　it　must　be　confessed；　partly　by　a　sense　of　exasperation　with　Grace。　Grace　had　been　that　day　quite　especially　tiresome。　She　had　a　cold；　and　a　new　evening　dress　had　cost　twice　as　much　as　it　ought　to　have　done。　Mitch　had　broken　into　eczema；　and　Mrs。　Constantine　had　overruled　her　at　a　committee　meeting。　With　a　flood　of　disconnected　talk　she　had　overwhelmed　Maggie　until　the　girl　felt　as　though　her　head　had　been　thrust　into　a　bag　of　flour。　Through　it　all　there　had　been　an　undercurrent　of　complaint　as　though　Maggie　were　responsible。

Early　in　the　afternoon　Grace　declared　that　her　head　was　splitting　and　retired　to　her　bedroom。　Maggie；　in　a　state　of　blinded　and　deafened　exasperation；　remembered　Mr。　Toms　and　decided　to　call　on　him。　She　found　a　neat　little　house　standing　in　a　neat　little　garden　near　the　sea　just　beyond　the　end　of　the　Promenade；　or　The　Leas；　as　the　real　Skeatonian　always　called　it。　Miss　Toms　and　Mr。　Toms　were　sitting　in　a　very　small　room　with　a　large　fire；　a　pale　grey　wallpaper；　and　a　number　of　brightly…painted　wooden　toys　arranged　on　a　shelf　running　round　the　room。　The　toys　were　of　all　kindsa　farm；　cows　and　sheep；　tigers　and　lions；　soldiers　and　cannon；　a　church　and　a　butcher's　shop；　little　green　tufted　trees；　and　a　Noah's　ark。　Mr。　Toms　was　sitting；　neat　as　a　pin；　smiling　in　an　armchair　beside　the　fire；　and　Miss　Toms　near　him　was　reading　aloud。

Maggie　saw　at　once　that　her　visit　embarrassed　Miss　Toms　terribly。　It　was　an　embarrassment　that　she　understood　perfectly；　so　like　her　own　feelings　on　so　many　occasions。　This　put　her　at　once　at　her　ease；　and　she　was　the　old；　simple；　direct　Maggie；　her　face　eager　with　kindness　and　understanding。　Mr。　Toms　smiled　perpetually　but　shook　hands　like　the　little　gentleman　he　was。

Maggie；　studying　Miss　Toms'　face；　saw　that　it　was　lined　with　troublean　ugly　face；　grave；　severe；　but　bra