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第19章

weir of hermiston-第19章

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could not follow the prayer; not even the heads of it。  Brightnesses

of azure; clouds of fragrance; a tinkle of falling water and singing

birds; rose like exhalations from some deeper; aboriginal memory; that

was not his; but belonged to the flesh on his bones。  His body

remembered; and it seemed to him that his body was in no way gross; 

but ethereal and perishable like a strain of music; and he felt for it 

an exquisite tenderness as for a child; an innocent; full of beautiful 

instincts and destined to an early death。  And he felt for old Torrance 

… of the many supplications; of the few days … a pity that was near to 

tears。  The prayer ended。  Right over him was a tablet in the wall; the 

only ornament in the roughly masoned chapel … for it was no more; the 

tablet commemorated; I was about to say the virtues; but rather the 

existence of a former Rutherford of Hermiston; and Archie; under that 

trophy of his long descent and local greatness; leaned back in the pew 

and contemplated vacancy with the shadow of a smile between playful and 

sad; that became him strangely。  Dandie's sister; sitting by the side of 

Clem in her new Glasgow finery; chose that moment to observe the young 

laird。  Aware of the stir of his entrance; the little formalist had kept 

her eyes fastened and her face prettily composed during the prayer。  It 

was not hypocrisy; there was no one further from a hypocrite。  The girl 

had been taught to behave: to look up; to look down; to look 

unconscious; to look seriously impressed in church; and in every 

conjuncture to look her best。  That was the game of female life; and she 

played it frankly。  Archie was the one person in church who was of

interest; who was somebody new; reputed eccentric; known to be young;

and a laird; and still unseen by Christina。  Small wonder that; as

she stood there in her attitude of pretty decency; her mind should run

upon him!  If he spared a glance in her direction; he should know she

was a well…behaved young lady who had been to Glasgow。  In reason he

must admire her clothes; and it was possible that he should think her

pretty。  At that her heart beat the least thing in the world; and she

proceeded; by way of a corrective; to call up and dismiss a series of

fancied pictures of the young man who should now; by rights; be looking

at her。  She settled on the plainest of them; … a pink short young man

with a dish face and no figure; at whose admiration she could afford to

smile; but for all that; the consciousness of his gaze (which was really

fixed on Torrance and his mittens) kept her in something of a flutter

till the word Amen。  Even then; she was far too well…bred to gratify her

curiosity with any impatience。  She resumed her seat languidly … this was

a Glasgow touch … she composed her dress; rearranged her nosegay of

primroses; looked first in front; then behind upon the other side; and

at last allowed her eyes to move; without hurry; in the direction of

the Hermiston pew。  For a moment; they were riveted。  Next she had

plucked her gaze home again like a tame bird who should have meditated

flight。  Possibilities crowded on her; she hung over the future and grew

dizzy; the image of this young man; slim; graceful; dark; with the

inscrutable half…smile; attracted and repelled her like a chasm。  〃I

wonder; will I have met my fate?〃 she thought; and her heart swelled。



Torrance was got some way into his first exposition; positing a deep 

layer of texts as he went along; laying the foundations of his 

discourse; which was to deal with a nice point in divinity; before 

Archie suffered his eyes to wander。  They fell first of all on Clem; 

looking insupportably prosperous; and patronising Torrance with the 

favour of a modified attention; as of one who was used to better things 

in Glasgow。  Though he had never before set eyes on him; Archie had no 

difficulty in identifying him; and no hesitation in pronouncing him 

vulgar; the worst of the family。  Clem was leaning lazily forward when 

Archie first saw him。  Presently he leaned nonchalantly back; and that 

deadly instrument; the maiden; was suddenly unmasked in profile。  Though 

not quite in the front of the fashion (had anybody cared!); certain 

artful Glasgow mantua…makers; and her own inherent taste; had arrayed 

her to great advantage。  Her accoutrement was; indeed; a cause of heart…

burning; and almost of scandal; in that infinitesimal kirk company。  

Mrs。 Hob had said her say at Cauldstaneslap。  〃Daft…like!〃 she had 

pronounced it。  〃A jaiket that'll no meet!  Whaur's the sense of a 

jaiket that'll no button upon you; if it should come to be weet?  What 

do ye ca' thir things?  Demmy brokens; d'ye say?  They'll be brokens wi' 

a vengeance or ye can win back!  Weel; I have nae thing to do wi' it … 

it's no good taste。〃  Clem; whose purse had thus metamorphosed his 

sister; and who was not insensible to the advertisement; had come to the 

rescue with a 〃Hoot; woman!  What do you ken of good taste that has 

never been to the ceety?〃  And Hob; looking on the girl with pleased 

smiles; as she timidly displayed her finery in the midst of the dark 

kitchen; had thus ended the dispute: 〃The cutty looks weel;〃 he had 

said; 〃and it's no very like rain。  Wear them the day; hizzie; but it's 

no a thing to make a practice o'。〃  In the breasts of her rivals; coming 

to the kirk very conscious of white under…linen; and their faces 

splendid with much soap; the sight of the toilet had raised a storm of 

varying emotion; from the mere unenvious admiration that was expressed 

in a long…drawn 〃Eh!〃 to the angrier feeling that found vent in an 

emphatic 〃Set her up!〃  Her frock was of straw…coloured jaconet muslin; 

cut low at the bosom and short at the ankle; so as to display her DEMI…

BROQUINS of Regency violet; crossing with many straps upon a yellow 

cobweb stocking。  According to the pretty fashion in which our 

grandmothers did not hesitate to appear; and our great…aunts went forth 

armed for the pursuit and capture of our great…uncles; the dress was 

drawn up so as to mould the contour of both breasts; and in the nook 

between; a cairngorm brooch maintained it。  Here; too; surely in a very 

enviable position; trembled the nosegay of primroses。  She wore on her 

shoulders … or rather on her back and not her shoulders; which it 

scarcely passed … a French coat of sarsenet; tied in front with Margate 

braces; and of the same colour with her violet shoes。  About her face 

clustered a disorder of dark ringlets; a little garland of yellow French 

roses surmounted her brow; and the whole was crowned by a village hat of 

chipped straw。  Amongst all the rosy and all the weathered faces that 

surrounded her in church; she glowed like an open flower … girl and 

raiment; and the cairngorm that caught the daylight and returned it in a 

fiery flash; and the threads of bronze and gold that played in her hair。



Archie was attracted by the bright thing like a child。  He looked at her 

again and yet again; and their looks crossed。  The lip was lifted from 

her little teeth。  He saw the red blood work vividly under her tawny 

skin。  Her eye; which was great as a stag's; struck and held his gaze。  

He knew who she must be … Kirstie; she of the harsh diminutive; his 

housekeeper's niece; the sister of the rustic prophet; Gib … and he 

found in her the answer to his wishes。



Christina felt the shock of their encountering glances; and seemed to 

rise; clothed in smiles; into a region of the vague and bright。  But the 

gratification was not more exquisite than it was brief。  She looked away 

abruptly; and immediately began to blame herself for that abruptness。  

She knew what she should have done; too late … turned slowly with her 

nose in the air。  And meantime his look was not removed; but continued 

to play upon her like a battery of cannon constantly aimed; and now 

seemed to isolate her alone with him; and now seemed to

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