the white people-第7章

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　I　saw　it　as　a　picture；　and　always　afterward；　when　I　thought　of　his　mother；　I　thought　of　her　as　sitting　under　a　great　and　ancient　apple…tree　with　the　long；　late…afternoon　shadows　stretching　on　the　thick；　green　grass。　　I　suppose　I　saw　that　just　because　he　said：

〃Will　you　come　to　tea　under　the　big　apple…　tree　some　afternoon　when　the　late　shadows　are　like　velvet　on　the　grass？　　That　is　perhaps　the　loveliest　time。〃

When　we　rose　to　go　and　join　the　rest　of　the　party；　he　stood　a　moment　and　glanced　round　the　room　at　our　fellow…guests。

〃Are　there　any　of　your　White　People　here　to…night？〃　he　said；　smiling。　　〃I　shall　begin　to　look　for　them　everywhere。〃

I　glanced　over　the　faces　carelessly。　　〃There　are　none　here　to…night；〃　I　answered；　and　then　I　flushed　because　he　had　smiled。　　〃It　was　only　a　childish　name　I　gave　them；〃　I　hesitated。　　〃I　forgot　you　wouldn't　understand。　　I　dare　say　it　sounds　silly。〃

He　looked　at　me　so　quickly。

〃No！　no！　no！〃　he　exclaimed。　　〃You　mustn't　think　that！　　Certainly　not　silly。〃

I　do　not　think　he　knew　that　he　put　out　his　hand　and　gently　touched　my　arm；　as　one　might　touch　a　child　to　make　it　feel　one　wanted　it　to　listen。

〃You　don't　know；〃　he　said　in　his　low；　slow　voice；　〃how　glad　I　am　that　you　have　talked　to　me。　　Sir　Ian　said　you　were　not　fond　of　talking　to　people；　and　I　wanted　to　know　you。〃

〃You　care　about　places　like　Muircarrie。　　That　is　why；〃　I　answered；　feeling　at　once　how　much　he　understood。　　〃I　care　for　Muircarrie　more　than　for　all　the　rest　of　the　world。　　And　I　suppose　you　saw　it　in　my　face。　　I　dare　say　that　the　people　who　love　that　kind　of　life　cannot　help　seeing　it　there。〃

〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃it　is　in　your　eyes。　　It　was　what　I　saw　and　found　myself　wondering　about　when　I　watched　you　in　the　train。　　It　was　really　the　moor　and　the　mist　and　the　things　you　think　are　hidden　in　it。〃

〃Did　you　watch　me？〃　I　asked。　　〃I　could　not　help　watching　you　a　little；　when　you　were　so　kind　to　the　poor　woman。　　I　was　afraid　you　would　see　me　and　think　me　rude。〃

〃It　was　the　far　look　in　your　face　I　watched；〃　he　said。　　〃If　you　will　come　to　tea　under　the　big　apple…tree　I　will　tell　you　more　about　it。〃

〃Indeed　I　will　come；〃　I　answered。　　〃Now　we　must　go　and　sit　among　the　other　people　those　who　don't　care　about　Muircarrie　at　all。〃



CHAPTER　V

I　went　to　tea　under　the　big　apple…tree。　　It　was　very　big　and　old　and　wonderful。　　No　wonder　Mr。　MacNairn　and　his　mother　loved　it。　　Its　great　branches　spread　out　farther　than　I　had　ever　seen　the　branches　of　an　apple…tree　spread　before。　　They　were　gnarled　and　knotted　and　beautiful　with　age。　　Their　shadows　upon　the　grass　were　velvet；　deep　and　soft。　　Such　a　tree　could　only　have　lived　its　life　in　such　a　garden。　　At　least　it　seemed　so　to　me。　　The　high；　dim…colored　walls；　with　their　curious；　low　corner　towers　and　the　leafage　of　the　wall　fruits　spread　against　their　brick；　inclosed　it　embracingly；　as　if　they　were　there　to　take　care　of　it　and　its　beauty。　　But　the　tree　itself　seemed　to　have　grown　there　in　all　its　dignified　loveliness　of　shadow　to　take　care　of　Mrs。　MacNairn；　who　sat　under　it。　　I　felt　as　if　it　loved　and　was　proud　of　her。

I　have　heard　clever　literary　people　speak　of　Mrs。　MacNairn　as　a　〃survival　of　type。〃　　Sometimes　clever　people　bewilder　me　by　the　terms　they　use；　but　I　thought　I　understood　what　they　meant　in　her　case。　　She　was　quite　unlike　the　modern　elderly　woman；　and　yet　she　was　not　in　the　least　old…fashioned　or　demodee。　　She　was　only　exquisitely　distinct。

When　she　rose　from　her　chair　under　the　apple…tree　boughs　and　came　forward　to　meet　me　that　afternoon；　the　first　things　which　struck　me　were　her　height　and　slenderness　and　her　light　step。　　Then　I　saw　that　her　clear　profile　seemed　cut　out　of　ivory　and　that　her　head　was　a　beautiful　shape　and　was　beautifully　set。　　Its　every　turn　and　movement　was　exquisite。　　The　mere　fact　that　both　her　long；　ivory　hands　enfolded　mine　thrilled　me。　　I　wondered　if　it　were　possible　that　she　could　be　unaware　of　her　loveliness。　　Beautiful　people　are　thrilling　to　me；　and　Mrs。　MacNairn　has　always　seemed　more　so　than　any　one　else。　　This　is　what　her　son　once　said　of　her：

〃She　is　not　merely　beautiful；　she　is　Beauty　Beauty's　very　spirit　moving　about　among　us　mortals；　pure　Beauty。〃

She　drew　me　to　a　chair　under　her　tree；　and　we　sat　down　together。　　I　felt　as　if　she　were　glad　that　I　had　come。　　The　watching　look　I　had　seen　in　her　son's　eyes　was　in　hers　also。　　They　watched　me　as　we　talked；　and　I　found　myself　telling　her　about　my　home　as　I　had　found　myself　telling　him。　　He　had　evidently　talked　to　her　about　it　himself。　　I　had　never　met　any　one　who　thought　of　Muircarrie　as　I　did；　but　it　seemed　as　if　they　who　were　strangers　were　drawn　by　its　wild；　beautiful　loneliness　as　I　was。

I　was　happy。　　In　my　secret　heart　I　began　to　ask　myself　if　it　could　be　true　that　they　made　me　feel　a　little　as　if　I　somehow　belonged　to　some　one。　　I　had　always　seemed　so　detached　from　every　one。　　I　had　not　been　miserable　about　it；　and　I　had　not　complained　to　myself；　I　only　accepted　the　detachment　as　part　of　my　kind　of　life。

Mr。　MacNairn　came　into　the　garden　later　and　several　other　people　came　in　to　tea。　　It　was　apparently　a　sort　of　daily　customthat　people　who　evidently　adored　Mrs。　MacNairn　dropped　in　to　see　and　talk　to　her　every　afternoon。　　She　talked　wonderfully；　and　her　friends'　joy　in　her　was　wonderful；　too。　　It　evidently　made　people　happy　to　be　near　her。　　All　she　said　and　did　was　like　her　light　step　and　the　movements　of　her　delicate；　fine　headgracious　and　soft　and　arrestingly　lovely。　　She　did　not　let　me　drift　away　and　sit　in　a　corner　looking　on；　as　I　usually　did　among　strangers。　　She　kept　me　near　her；　and　in　some　subtle；　gentle　way　made　me　a　part　of　all　that　was　happeningthe　talk；　the　charming　circle　under　the　spreading　boughs　of　the　apple…tree；　the　charm　of　everything。　　Sometimes　she　would　put　out　her　exquisite；　long…　fingered　hand　and　touch　me　very　lightly；　and　each　time　she　did　it　I　felt　as　if　she　had　given　me　new　life。

There　was　an　interesting　elderly　man　who　came　among　the　rest　of　the　guests。　　I　was　interested　in　him　even　before　she　spoke　to　me　of　him。　　He　had　a　handsome；　aquiline　face　which　looked　very　clever。　　His　talk　was　brilliantly　witty。　　When　he　spoke　people　paused　as　if　they　could　not　bear　to　lose　a　phrase　or　even　a　word。　　But　in　the　midst　of　the　trills　of　laughter　surrounding　him　his　eyes　were　unchangingly　sad。　　His　face　laughed　or　smiled；　but　his　eyes　never。

〃He　is　the　greatest　artist　in　England　and　the　most　brilliant　man；〃　Mrs。　MacNairn　said　to　me；　quietly。　　〃But　he　is　the　saddest；　too。　　He　had　a　lovely　daughter　who　was　killed　instantly；　in　his　presence；　by　a　fall。　　They　had　been　inseparable　companions　and　she　was　the　delight　of　his　life。　　That　strange；　fixed　look　has　been　in　his　eyes　ever　since。　　I　know　you　have　noticed　it。〃

We　were　walking　about　among　the　flower…　beds　after　tea；　and　Mr。　MacNairn　was　showing　me　a　cloud　of　blue　larkspurs　in　a　corner　when　I　saw　something　which　made　me　turn　toward　him　rather　quickly。

〃There　is　one！〃　I　said。　　〃Do　look　at　her！　　Now　you　see　what　I　mean！　　The　girl　standing　with　her　hand　on　Mr。　Le　Breton's　arm。〃

Mr。　Le　Breton　was　the　brilliant　man　with　the　sad　eyes。　　He　was　standing　looking　at　a　mass　of　white…and…purple　iris　at　the　other　side　of　the　garden。　　There　were　two　or　three　people　with　him；　but　it　seemed　as　if　for　a　moment　he　had　forgotten　themhad　forgotten　where　he　was。　　I　wondered　suddenly　if　his　daughter　had　been　fond　of　irises。　　He　was　looking　at　them　with　such　a　tender；　lost　expression。　　The　girl；　who　was　a　lovely；　fair　thing；　was　standing　quite　close　to　him　with　her　hand　in　his　arm；　and　she　was　smiling；　toosuch　a　smile！

〃Mr。　Le　Breton！〃　Mr。　MacNairn　said　in　a　rather　startled　tone。　　〃The　girl　with　her　hand　in　his　arm？〃

〃Yes。　　You　see　how　fair　she　is；〃　I　answered。

〃And　she　has　that　transparent　look。　　It　is　so　lovely。　　Don't　you　think　so？　　SHE　is　one　of　the　White　People。〃

He　stood　very　still；　looking　across　the　flowers　at　the　group。　　There　was　a　singular　interest　and　intensity　in　his　expression。　　He　watched　the　pair　silently　for　a　whole　minute；　I　think。

〃Ye…es；〃　he　said；　slowly；　at　last；　〃I　do　see　what　you　meanand　it　IS　lovely。　　I　don't　seem　to　know　her　well。　　She　must　be　a　new　friend　of