the black robe-第43章

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Among　his　other　accomplishments；　Father　Benwell　was　a



chess…player。　If　his　thoughts　at　that　moment　had　been　expressed



in　language；　they　would　have　said；　〃Check　to　the　queen。〃







CHAPTER　IV。







THE　END　OF　THE　HONEYMOON。







ON　the　next　morning；　Winterfield　arrived　alone　at　Romayne's



house。







Having　been　included；　as　a　matter　of　course；　in　the　invitation　to



see　the　pictures；　Father　Benwell　had　made　an　excuse；　and　had



asked　leave　to　defer　the　proposed　visit。　From　his　point　of　view；



he　had　nothing　further　to　gain　by　being　present　at　a　second



meeting　between　the　two　menin　the　absence　of　Stella。　He　had　it



on　Romayne's　own　authority　that　she　was　in　constant　attendance　on



her　mother；　and　that　her　husband　was　alone。　〃Either　Mrs。



Eyrecourt　will　get　better；　or　she　will　die；〃　Father　Benwell



reasoned。　〃I　shall　make　constant　inquiries　after　her　health；　and；



in　either　case；　I　shall　know　when　Mrs。　Romayne　returns　to　Ten



Acres　Lodge。　After　that　domestic　event；　the　next　time　Mr。



Winterfield　visits　Mr。　Romayne；　I　shall　go　and　see　the　pictures。〃







It　is　one　of　the　defects　of　a　super…subtle　intellect　to　trust　too



implicitly　to　calculation；　and　to　leave　nothing　to　chance。　Once



or　twice　already　Father　Benwell　had　been　（in　the　popular　phrase）



a　little　too　cleverand　chance　had　thrown　him　out。　As　events



happened；　chance　was　destined　to　throw　him　out　once　more。







Of　the　most　modest　pretensions；　in　regard　to　numbers　and　size；



the　pictures　collected　by　the　late　Lady　Berrick　were　masterly



works　of　modern　art。　With　few　exceptions；　they　had　been　produced



by　the　matchless　English　landscape　painters　of　half　a　century



since。　There　was　no　formal　gallery　here。　The　pictures　were　so　few



that　they　could　be　hung　in　excellent　lights　in　the　different



living…rooms　of　the　villa。　Turner；　Constable；　Collins；　Danby；



Callcott；　Linnellthe　master　of　Beaupark　House　passed　from　one



to　the　other　with　the　enjoyment　of　a　man　who　thoroughly



appreciated　the　truest　and　finest　landscape　art　that　the　world



has　yet　seen。







〃You　had　better　not　have　asked　me　here；〃　he　said　to　Romayne；　in



his　quaintly　good…humored　way。　〃I　can't　part　with　those　pictures



when　I　say　good…by　to…day。　You　will　find　me　calling　here　again



and　again；　till　you　are　perfectly　sick　of　me。　Look　at　this　sea



piece。　Who　thinks　of　the　brushes　and　palette　of　_that_　painter？



There；　truth　to　Nature　and　poetical　feeling　go　hand　in　hand



together。　It　is　absolutely　lovelyI　could　kiss　that　picture。〃







They　were　in　Romayne's　study　when　this　odd　outburst　of　enthusiasm



escaped　Winterfield。　He　happened　to　look　toward　the　writing…table



next。　Some　pages　of　manuscript；　blotted　and　interlined　with



corrections；　at　once　attracted　his　attention。







〃Is　that　the　forthcoming　history？〃　he　asked。　〃You　are　not　one　of



the　authors　who　perform　the　process　of　correction　mentallyyou



revise　and　improve　with　the　pen　in　your　hand。〃







Romayne　looked　at　him　in　surprise。　〃I　suspect；　Mr。　Winterfield；



you　have　used　your　pen　for　other　purposes　than　writing　letters。〃







〃No；　indeed；　you　pay　me　an　undeserved　compliment。　When　you　come



to　see　me　in　Devonshire；　I　can　show　you　some　manuscripts；　and



corrected　proofs；　left　by　our　great　writers；　collected　by　my



father。　My　knowledge　of　the　secrets　of　the　craft　has　been　gained



by　examining　those　literary　treasures。　If　the　public　only　knew



that　every　writer　worthy　of　the　name　is　the　severest　critic　of



his　own　book　before　it　ever　gets　into　the　hands　of　the　reviewers；



how　surprised　they　would　be！　The　man　who　has　worked　in　the　full



fervor　of　composition　yesterday　is　the　same　man　who　sits　in



severe　and　merciless　judgment　to…day　on　what　he　has　himself



produced。　What　a　fascination　there　must　be　in　the　Art　which



exacts　and　receives　such　double　labor　as　this？〃







Romayne　thoughtnot　unkindlyof　his　wife。　Stella　had　once　asked



him　how　long　a　time　he　was　usually　occupied　in　writing　one　page。



The　reply　had　filled　her　with　pity　and　wonder。　〃Why　do　you　take



all　that　trouble？〃　she　had　gently　remonstrated。　〃It　would　be　just



the　same　to　the　people；　darling；　if　you　did　it　in　half　the　time。〃







By　way　of　changing　the　topic；　Romayne　led　his　visitor　into



another　room。　〃I　have　a　picture　here；〃　he　said；　〃which　belongs　to



a　newer　school　of　painting。　You　have　been　talking　of　hard　work　in



one　Art；　there　it　is　in　another。〃







〃Yes；〃　said　Winterfield；



　〃there　it　isthe　misdirected　hard　work；　which　has　been　guided



by　no　critical　faculty；　and　which　doesn't　know　where　to　stop。　I



try　to　admire　it；　and　I　end　in　pitying　the　poor　artist。　Look　at



that　leafless　felled　tree　in　the　middle　distance。　Every　little



twig；　on　the　smallest　branch；　is　conscientiously　paintedand　the



result　is　like　a　colored　photograph。　You　don't　look　at　a



landscape　as　a　series　of　separate　parts；　you　don't　discover　every



twig　on　a　tree；　you　see　the　whole　in　Nature；　and　you　want　to　see



the　whole　in　a　picture。　That　canvas　presents　a　triumph　of



patience　and　pains；　produced　exactly　as　a　piece　of　embroidery　is



produced；　all　in　little　separate　bits；　worked　with　the　same



mechanically　complete　care。　I　turn　away　from　it　to　your　shrubbery



there；　with　an　ungrateful　sense　of　relief。〃







He　walked　to　the　window　as　he　spoke。　It　looked　out　on　the　grounds



in　front　of　the　house。　At　the　same　moment　the　noise　of　rolling



wheels　became　audible　on　the　drive。　An　open　carriage　appeared　at



the　turn　in　the　road。　Winterfield　called　Romayne　to　the　window。



〃A　visitor；〃　he　beganand　suddenly　drew　back；　without　saying　a



word　more。







Romayne　looked　out；　and　recognized　his　wife。







〃Excuse　me　for　one　moment；〃　he　said；　〃it　is　Mrs。　Romayne。〃







On　that　morning　an　improvement　in　the　fluctuating　state　of　Mrs。



Eyrecourt's　health　had　given　Stella　another　of　those



opportunities　of　passing　an　hour　or　two　with　her　husband；　which



she　so　highly　prized。　Romayne　withdrew；　to　meet　her　at　the



doortoo　hurriedly　to　notice　Winterfield　standing；　in　the　corner



to　which　he　had　retreated；　like　a　man　petrified。







Stella　had　got　out　of　the　carriage　when　her　husband　reached　the



porch。　She　ascended　the　few　steps　that　led　to　the　hall　as　slowly



and　painfully　as　if　she　had　been　an　infirm　old　woman。　The



delicately　tinted　color　in　her　face　had　faded　to　an　ashy　white。



She　had　seen　Winterfield　at　the　window。







For　the　moment；　Romayne　looked　at　her　in　speechless



consternation。　He　led　her　into　the　nearest　room　that　opened　out



of　the　hall；　and　took　her　in　his　arms。　〃My　love；　this　nursing　of



your　mother　has　completely　broken　you　down！〃　he　said；　with　the



tenderest　pity　for　her。　〃If　you　won't　think　of　yourself；　you　must



think　of　me。　For　my　sake　remain　here；　and　take　the　rest　that　you



need。　I　will　be　a　tyrant；　Stella；　for　the　first　time；　I　won't　let



you　go　back。〃







She　roused　herself；　and　tried　to　smileand　hid　the　sad　result



from　him　in　a　kiss。　〃I　do　feel　the　anxiety　and　fatigue；〃　she



said。　〃But　my　mother　is　really　improving；　and；　if　it　only



continues；　the　blessed　sense　of　relief　will　make　me　strong



again。〃　She　paused；　and　roused　all　her　courage；　in　anticipation



of　the　next　wordsso　trivial　and　so　terriblethat　must；　sooner



or　later；　be　pronounced。　〃You　have　a　visitor？〃　she　said。







〃Did　you　see　him　at　the　window？　A　really　delightful　manI　know



you　will　like　him。　Under　any　other　circumstances；　I　should　have



introduced　him。　You　are　not　well　enough　to　see　strangers　today。〃







She　was　too　determined　to