lavender and old lace-第10章

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〃I　can'tthe　flow　of　my　eloquence　is　stopped　by　rapturous　anticipation。　Suffice　it　to　say　that　the　people　of　this　enterprising　city　are　well　up　in　the　ways　of　the　wicked　world；　for　the　storekeeper　takes　The　New　York　Weekly　and　the　'Widder'　Pendleton　subscribes　for　The　Fireside　Companion。　The　back　numbers；　which　are　not　worn　out；　are　the　circulating　library　of　the　village。　It's　no　use；　Miss　Thorneyou　might　stand　on　your　hilltop　and　proclaim　your　innocence　until　you　were　hoarse；　and　it　would　be　utterly　without　effect。　Your　status　is　definitely　settled。〃

〃How　about　Aunt　Jane？〃　she　inquired。　〃Does　my　relationship　count　for　naught？〃

〃Now　you　are　rapidly　approaching　the　centre　of　things；〃　replied　the　young　man。　〃Miss　Hathaway　is　one　woman　in　a　thousand；　though　somewhat　eccentric。　She　is　the　venerated　pillar　of　the　community　and　a　constant　attendant　it　church；　which　it　seems　you　are　not。　Also；　if　you　are　really　her　niece；　where　is　the　family　resemblance？　Why　has　she　never　spoken　of　you？　Why　have　you　never　been　here　before？　Why　are　her　letters　to　you　sealed　with　red　wax；　bought　especially　for　the　purpose？　Why　does　she　go　away　before　you　come？　Lady　Gwendolen　Hetherington；〃　he　demanded；　with　melodramatic　fervour；　〃answer　me　these　things　if　you　can！〃

〃I'm　tired；〃　she　complained。

〃Delicate　compliment；〃　observed　Winfield；　apparently　to　himself。　〃Here's　a　log　across　our　path；　Miss　Thorne；　let's　sit　down。〃

The　budded　maples　arched　over　the　narrow　path；　and　a　wild　canary；　singing　in　the　sun；　hopped　from　bough　to　bough。　A　robin's　cheery　chirp　came　from　another　tree；　and　the　clear　notes　of　a　thrush；　with　a　mottled　breast；　were　answered　by　another　in　the　gold…green　aisles　beyond。

〃Oh；〃　he　said；　under　his　breath；　〃isn't　this　great！〃

The　exquisite　peace　of　the　forest　was　like　that　of　another　sphere。　〃Yes；〃　she　answered；　softly；　〃it　is　beautiful。〃

〃You're　evading　the　original　subject；〃　he　suggested；　a　little　later。

〃I　haven't　had　a　chance　to　talk；〃　she　explained。　〃You've　done　a　monologue　ever　since　we　left　the　house；　and　I　listened；　as　becomes　inferior　and　subordinate　woman。　I　have　never　seen　my　venerated　kinswoman；　and　I　don't　see　how　she　happened　to　think　of　me。　Nevertheless；　when　she　wrote；　asking　me　to　take　charge　of　her　house　while　she　went　to　Europe；　I　gladly　consented；　sight　unseen。　When　I　came；　she　was　gone。　I　do　not　deny　the　short　skirt　and　heavy　shoes；　the　criticism　of　boiled　coffee；　nor　the　disdain　of　breakfast　pie。　As　far　is　I　know；　Aunt　Jane　is　my　only　living　relative。〃

〃That's　good；〃　he　said；　cheerfully；　〃I'm　shy　even　of　an　aunt。　Why　shouldn't　the　orphans　console　one　another？〃

〃They　should；〃　admitted　Ruth；　〃and　you　are　doing　your　share　nobly。〃

〃Permit　me　to　return　the　compliment。　Honestly；　Miss　Thorne；〃　he　continued；　seriously；　〃you　have　no　idea　how　much　I　appreciate　your　being　here。　When　I　first　realised　what　it　meant　to　be　deprived　of　books　and　papers　for　six　months　at　a　stretch；　it　seemed　as　if　I　should　go　mad。　Still；　I　suppose　six　months　isn't　as　bad　as　forever；　and　I　was　given　a　choice。　I　don't　want　to　bore　you；　but　if　you　will　let　me　come　occasionally；　I　shall　be　very　glad。　I'm　going　to　try　to　be　patient；　too；　if　you'll　help　mepatience　isn't　my　long　suit。〃

〃Indeed　I　will　help　you；〃　answered　Ruth；　impulsively；　〃I　know　how　hard　it　must　be。〃

〃I'm　not　begging　for　your　sympathy；　though　I　assure　you　it　is　welcome。〃　He　polished　the　tinted　glasses　with　a　bit　of　chamois。。　and　his　eyes　filled　with　the　mist　of　weakness　before　he　put　them　on　again。　〃So　you've　never　seen　your　aunt；〃　he　said。

〃Nothat　pleasure　is　still　in　store　for　me。〃

〃They　say　down　at　the　'Widder's'　that　she's　a　woman　with　a　romance。〃

〃Tell　me　about　it！〃　exclaimed　Ruth；　eagerly。

〃Little　girls　mustn't　ask　questions；〃　he　remarked；　patronisingly；　and　in　his　most　irritating　manner。　〃Besides；　I　don't　know。　If　the　'Widder'　knows；　she　won't　tell；　so　it's　fair　to　suppose　she　doesn't。　Your　relation　does　queer　things　in　the　attic；　and　every　Spring；　she　has　an　annual　weep。　I　suppose　it's　the　house　cleaning；　for　the　rest　of　the　year　she's　dry…eyed　and　calm。〃

〃I　weep　very　frequently；〃　commented　Ruth。

〃'Tears；　idle　tearsI　wonder　what　they　mean。'〃

〃They　don't　mean　much；　in　the　case　of　a　woman。〃

〃I've　never　seen　many　of'em；〃　returned　Winfield；　〃and　I　don't　want　to。　Even　stage　tears　go　against　the　grain　with　me。　I　know　that　the　lady　who　sobs　behind　the　footlights　is　well　paid　for　it；　but　all　the　same；　it　gives　me　the　creeps。〃

〃It's　nothing　seriousreally　it　isn't；〃　she　explained。　〃It's　merely　a　safety　valve。　If　women　couldn't　cry；　they'd　explode。〃

〃I　always　supposed　tears　were　signs　of　sorrow；〃　he　said。

〃Far　from　it；〃　laughed　Ruth。　〃When　I　get　very　angry；　I　cry；　and　then　I　got　angrier　because　I'm　crying　and　cry　harder。〃

〃That　opens　up　a　fearful　possibility。　What　would　happen　if　you　kept　getting　angrier　because　you　were　crying　and　crying　harder　because　you　got　angrier？〃

〃I　have　no　idea；〃　she　answered；　with　her　dark　eyes　fixed　upon　him；　〃but　it's　a　promising　field　for　investigation。〃'

〃I　don't　want　to　see　the　experiment。〃

〃Don't　worry；〃　said　Ruth；　laconically；　〃you　won't。〃

There　was　a　long　silence；　and　Winfield　began　to　draw　designs　on　the　bare　earth　with　a　twig。　〃Tell　me　about　the　lady　who　is　considered　crazy；〃　he　suggested。

Ruth　briefly　described　Miss　Ainslie；　dwelling　lovingly　upon　her　beauty　and　charm。　He　listened　indifferently　at　first；　but　when　she　told　him　of　the　rugs；　the　real　lace　which　edged　the　curtains；　and　the　Cloisonne　vase；　he　became　much　interested。

〃Take　me　to　see　her　some　day；　won't　you；〃　he　asked；　carelessly。

Ruth's　eyes　met　his　squarely。　〃'T　isn't　a　'story；'〃　she　said；　resentfully；　forgetting　her　own　temptation。

The　dull　colour　flooded　his　face。　〃You　forget；　Miss　Thorne；　that　I　am　forbidden　to　read　or　write。〃

〃For　six　months　only；〃　answered　Ruth；　sternly；　〃and　there's　always　a　place　for　a　good　Sunday　special。〃

He　changed　the　subject；　but　there　were　frequent　awkward　pauses　and　the　spontaniety　was　gone。　She　rose；　adjusting　her　belt　in　the　back；　and　announced　that　it　was　time　for　her　to　go　home。

On　their　way　up　the　hill；　she　tried　to　be　gracious　enough　to　atone　for　her　rudeness；　but；　though　he　was　politeness　itself；　there　was　a　difference；　and　she　felt　as　if　she　had　lost　something。　Distance　lay　between　thema　cold；　immeasurable　distance；　yet　she　knew　that　she　had　done　right。

He　opened　the　gate　for　her；　then　turned　to　go。　〃Won't　you　come　in？〃　she　asked；　conventionally。

〃No；　thank　yousome　other　time；　if　I　may。　I've　had　a　charming　afternoon。〃　He　smiled　pleasantly；　and　was　off　down　the　hill。

When　she　remembered　that　it　was　a　Winfield　who　had　married　Abigail　Weatherby；　she　dismissed　the　matter　as　mere　coincidence；　and　determined；　at　all　costs；　to　shield　Miss　Ainslie。　The　vision　of　that　gracious　lady　came　to　her；　bringing　with　it　a　certain　uplift　of　soul。　Instantly；　she　was　placed　far　above　the　petty　concerns　of　earth；　like　one　who　walks　upon　the　heights；　untroubled；　while　restless　surges　thunder　at　his　feet。



VI。　The　Garden

Miss　Thorne　wrote　an　apology　to　Winfield；　and　then　tore　it　up；　thereby　gaining　comparative　peace　of　mind；　for；　with　some　natures；　expression　is　the　main　thing；　and　direction　is　but　secondary。　She　was　not　surprised　because　he　did　not　come；　on　the　contrary；　she　had　rather　expected　to　be　left　to　her　own　devices　for　a　time；　but　one　afternoon　she　dressed　with　unusual　care　and　sat　in　state　in　the　parlour；　vaguely　expectant。　If　he　intended　to　be　friendly；　it　was　certainly　time　for　him　to　come　again。

Hepsey；　passing　through　the　hall；　noted　the　crisp　white　ribbon　at　her　throat　and　the　bow　in　her　hair。　〃Are　you　expectin'　company；　Miss　Thorne？〃　she　asked；　innocently。

〃I　am　expecting　no　one；〃　answered　Ruth；　frigidly；　〃I　am　going　out。〃

Feeling　obliged　to　make　her　word　good；　she　took　the　path　which　led　to　Miss　Ainslie's。　As　she　entered　the　gate；　she　had　a　glimpse　of　Winfield；　sitting　by　the　front　window　of　Mrs。　Pendleton's　brown　house；　in　such　a　dejected　attitude　that　she　pitied　him。　She　considered　the　virtuous　emotion　very　praiseworthy；　even　though　it　was　not　deep　enough　for　her　to　bestow　a　cheery　nod　upon　the　gloomy　person　across　the　way。

Miss