jeremy-第30章

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nothing。　Boys　will　be　boys；　I　know；〃　from　Miss　Maddison。

Then　they　were　seated　in　the　jingle；　Jeremy　next　to　Aunt　Amy；
awaiting　his　scolding。　It　did　not　come。　Aunt　Amy　tried；　she　knew
what　she　should　say。　She　should　be　very　angry；　disgusted；　ashamed。
She　could　not　be　any　of　these　things。　That　horrid　boy　had　insulted
her。　She　was　touched　and　proud　as　she　had　never　been　touched　and
proud　in　her　life　before。

Jeremy　waited；　and　then　as　nothing　came　his　weariness　grew　upon　him。
As　the　old　fat　pony　jogged　along；　as　the　evening　colours　of　street
and　sky　danced　before　him；　sleep　came　nearer　and　nearer。

He　nodded；　recovered；　nodded　and　nodded　again。　His　body　pressed
closer　to　Aunt　Amy's；　leaned　against　her。　His　head　rested　upon　her
shoulder。

After　a　moment's　pause　she　put　her　arm　round　himso；　holding　him；
she　stared；　defiantly　and　crossly；　upon　the　world。




CHAPTER　VII

RELIGION


I


Always　in　after　years　Jeremy　remembered　that　party　of　Miss
Maddison's；　not　because　it　had　been　there　that　he　had　won　his　first
fight；　but　for　the　deeper　reason　that　from　that　day　his　life
received　a　new　colour；　woven　into　the　texture　of　it；　even　now　when
he　thinks　of　those　hours　that　followed　Miss　Maddison's　party　he
catches　his　breath　and　glances　around　him　to　see　whether　everything
is　safe。　The　children；　on　arriving　home　that　evening；　found　that
their　father　and　mother　had　already　returned　from　Drymouth。　Jeremy；
sleepy　though　he　was；　rushed　to　his　mother；　held　her　hand；　explained
his　black　eye；　and　then　suddenly；　in　a　way　that　he　had；　fell　asleep；
there　as　he　was；　and　had　to　be　carried　up　to　bed。

When　he　awoke　next　morning　his　first　thought　was　of　his　mother。　He
did　not　know　why；　she　was　so　definitely　part　of　the　background　of
his　daily　life　that　he　felt　too　sure　of　her　continual　and　abiding
presence　to　need　deliberate　thought　of　her。　But　this　morning　he
wanted　to　get　up　quickly　and　find　her。　Perhaps　her　absence　had　made
him　feel　more　insecure；　but　there　had　also　been　something　that
night；　something　in　her　face；　something　in　the　touch　of　her　hand。

And　the　other　thing　that　he　realised　was　that　summer　had　truly　come。
He　knew　at　once　that　hot　smell　that　pressed　even　through　the　closed
window…panes　of　his　room；　the　bars　and　squares　of　light　on　the　floor
when　he　jumped　out　of　bed　and　stood　upon　them　seemed　to　burn　the
soles　of　his　feet；　and　the　rays　of　light　on　the　ceiling　quivered　as
only　summer　sunlight　can　quiver。　The　two　windows　of　his　bedroom
looked　back　behind　Polchester　over　fields　and　hedges　to　a　dim　purple
line　of　wood。　A　tiny　stream　ran　through　the　first　two　fields；　and
this　little　river　was　shining　now　with　a　white　hot　light　that　had
yet　the　breeze　of　the　morning　ruffling　it。　He　ran　to　his　window　and
opened　it。　Beyond　the　wall　that　bordered　their　house　was　a　little
brown　path；　and　down　this　path；　even　as　he　watched；　a　company　of
cows　were　slowly　wandering　along。　Already　they　were　flapping　their
ears　lazily　in　anticipation　of　the　flies；　and　the　boy　who　was
driving　them　was　whistling　as　one　only　whistles　on　a　summer　morning。
He　could　see　the　buttercups；　too；　in　the　nearest　field；　they　seemed
to　have　sprung　to　life　in　the　space　of　a　night。　Someone　was　pulling
the　rope　of　a　well　somewhere　and　someone　else　was　pouring　water　out
upon　some　stone　court。　Even　as　he　watched；　a　bee　came　blundering　up
to　his　window；　hesitated　for　a　moment；　and　then　went　whirring　off
again；　and　through　all　the　sun　and　glitter　and　the　sparkle　of　the
little　river　there　was　a　scent　of　pinks；　and　mignonette；　　and　even；
although　it　could　not　really　be　so；　of　the　gorse。　The　sky　was　a　pale
white　blue；　so　pale　that　it　was　scarcely　any　colour　at　all　and　a　few
puffs　of　clouds；　dead　white　like　the　purest　smoke；　hovered　in
dancing　procession；　above　the　purple　wood。　The　sun　burnt　upon　his
bare　feet　and　his　head　and　his　hands。

This　coming　of　summer　meant　so　much　more　to　him　than　merely　the
immediate　joy　of　itit　meant　Rafiel　and　Cow　Farm　and　the　Cove　and
green　pools　with　crabs　in　them；　and　shrimping　and　paddling　and
riding　home　in　the　evening　on　haycarts；　and　drinking　milk　out　of　tin
cans；　and　cows　and　small　pigs；　and　peeling　sticks　and　apples；　and
collecting　shells；　and　fishermen's　nets；　and　sandwiches；　and　saffron
buns　mixed　with　sand；　and　hot　ginger　beer；　and　one's　ears　peeling
with　the　sun；　and　church　on　Sunday　with　the　Rafiel　sheep　cropping
the　grass　just　outside　the　church　door；　and　Dick　Marriott；　the
fisherman；　and　slipping　along　over　the　green　water；　trailing　one's
fingers　in　the　water；　in　his　boat；　and　fishy　smells　by　the　sea…wall；
and　red　masses　of　dog…fish　on　the　pier；　and　the　still　cool　feel　of
the　farmhouse　sheets　just　after　getting　into　bedall　these　things
and　a　thousand　more　the　coming　of　summer　meant　to　Jeremy。

But　this　morning　he　did　not　feel　his　customary　joy。　Closing　his
window　and　dressing　slowly；　he　wondered　what　was　the　matter。　What
could　it　be？　It　was　not　his　eyecertainly　it　was　a　funny　colour
this　morning　and　it　hurt　when　you　touched　it；　but　he　was　proud　of
that。　No；　it　was　not　his　eye。　And　it　was　not　the　dog；　who　came　into
his　room；　after　scratching　on　the　door；　and　made　his　usual　morning
pretence　of　having　come　for　any　other　purpose　than　to　see　his　friend
and　master；　first　looking　under　the　bed；　then　going　up　to　the　window
pretending　to　gaze　out　of　it　（which　he　could　not　do）；　barking；　then
rolling　on　a　square　of　sunlit　carpet；　and；　after　that；　lying　on　his
back；　his　legs　out　stiff；　his　ridiculous　〃Imperial〃　pointed　and
ironical；　then　suddenly　turning；　with　a　twist　on　his　legs；　rushing
at　last　up　to　Jeremy；　barking　at　him；　laughing　at　him；　licking　him；
and　even　biting　his　stockingslast　of　all　seizing　a　bedroom
slipper　and　rushing　wildly　into　the　schoolroom　with　it。

No；　there　was　nothing　the　matter　with　Hamlet。　Nor　was　there　anything
the　matter　with　Miss　Jones；　free；　happily；　from　her　customary
neuralgia；　and　delighted　with　the　new　number　of　the　Church　Times。
Nor　was　it　the　breakfast；　which　to…day　included　bacon　and　strawberry
jam。　Nor；　finally；　was　it　Mary　or　Helen；　who；　pleased　with　the
summer　weather　（and　Mary　additionally　pleased　with　the　virtues　of
Lance　as　minutely　recorded　in　the　second　volume　of　〃The　Pillars　of
the　House〃）；　were　both　in　the　most　amiable　of　tempers。　No；　it　must
be　something　inside　Jeremy　himself。

He　waited　until　the　end　of　breakfast　to　ask　his　question：

〃Can　I　go　and　see　Mother；　Miss　Jones？〃

Mary　and　Helen　looked　across　at　him　inquisitively。

〃What　do　you　want　to　see　your　mother　for　now；　Jeremy？　You　always　see
her　at　twelve　o'clock。〃　Miss　Jones　pushed　her　spectacles　lower　upon
her　nose　and　continued　her　reading。

〃I　want　to。〃

〃Well；　you　can't　now。〃

〃Why　not？〃

〃Because　I　say　notthat's　enough。〃

But　Jeremy　was　gentle　to…day。　He　got　off　his　chair；　went　round　to
Miss　Jones's　chair；　and；　looking　up　at　her　out　of　his　bruised　eye；
said　in　the　most　touching　voice：

〃But；　please；　Miss　Jones；　I　want　to。　I　really　do。〃

Then　she　said　what　he　had　known　all　the　time　was　coming：

〃I'm　afraid　you　won't　see　your　mother　to…day；　dear。　She's　not　well。
She's　in　bed。〃

〃Why？　Is　she　ill？〃

〃She's　tired　after　her　journey　yesterday；　I　expect。〃

He　said　no　more。

He　tried　during　the　whole　of　that　day　not　to　think　of　his　mother；
and　he　found　that；　for　the　first　time　in　his　life；　he　could　do
nothing　else　but　think　of　her。　During　the　morning　he　sat　very
silently　over　his　lessons；　did　all　that　he　was　told；　did　not　once
kick　Mary　under　the　table；　nor　ask　Miss　Jones　to　sharpen　his　pencil；
nor　make　faces　at　Hamlet。　Once　or　twice；　in　a　way　that　he　had；　he
leaned　his　head　on　his　hand　as　though　he　were　an　ancient　professor
with　a　whole　library　of　great　works　behind　him；　and　when　Miss　Jones
asked　him　whether　he　had　a　headache　he　said：　〃No；　thank　you；〃
instead　of　seizing　on　the　wonderful　opportunity　of　release　that　such
a　question　offered　him。　When　they　all　went　for　a　walk　in　the
afternoon；　he　sprang　for　a　moment　into　something　of　his　natural
vivacity。　They　came　upon　a　thin；　ill…shaven　tramp　dressed　as　a
sailor；　with　a　patch　over　one　eye；　producing　terrible　discordance
from　a　fiddle。　This　individual　held　in