desperate remedies-第62章
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difficult to adjust our outer and inner life with perfect honesty to
all！ Though it may be right to care more for the benefit of the
many than for the indulgence of your own single self； when you
consider that the many； and duty to them； only exist to you through
your own existence； what can be said？ What do our own acquaintances
care about us？ Not much。 I think of mine。 Mine will now （do they
learn all the wicked frailty of my heart in this affair） look at me；
smile sickly； and condemn me。 And perhaps； far in time to come；
when I am dead and gone； some other's accent； or some other's song；
or thought； like an old one of mine； will carry them back to what I
used to say； and hurt their hearts a little that they blamed me so
soon。 And they will pause just for an instant； and give a sigh to
me； and think； 〃Poor girl！〃 believing they do great justice to my
memory by this。 But they will never； never realize that it was my
single opportunity of existence； as well as of doing my duty； which
they are regarding； they will not feel that what to them is but a
thought； easily held in those two words of pity； 〃Poor girl！〃 was a
whole life to me； as full of hours； minutes； and peculiar minutes；
of hopes and dreads； smiles； whisperings； tears； as theirs： that it
was my world； what is to them their world； and they in that life of
mine； however much I cared for them； only as the thought I seem to
them to be。 Nobody can enter into another's nature truly； that's
what is so grievous。'
'Well； it cannot be helped；' said Owen。
'But we must not stay here；' she continued； starting up and going。
'We shall be missed。 I'll do my best； OwenI will； indeed。'
It had been decided that on account of the wretched state of the
roads； the newly…married pair should not drive to the station till
the latest hour in the afternoon at which they could get a train to
take them to Southampton （their destination that night） by a
reasonable time in the evening。 They intended the next morning to
cross to Havre； and thence to Parisa place Cytherea had never
visitedfor their wedding tour。
The afternoon drew on。 The packing was done。 Cytherea was so
restless that she could stay still nowhere。 Miss Aldclyffe； who；
though she took little part in the day's proceedings； was； as it
were； instinctively conscious of all their movements； put down her
charge's agitation for once as the natural result of the novel
event； and Manston himself was as indulgent as could be wished。
At length Cytherea wandered alone into the conservatory。 When in
it； she thought she would run across to the hot…house in the outer
garden； having in her heart a whimsical desire that she should also
like to take a last look at the familiar flowers and luxuriant
leaves collected there。 She pulled on a pair of overshoes； and
thither she went。 Not a soul was in or around the place。 The
gardener was making merry on Manston's and her account。
The happiness that a generous spirit derives from the belief that it
exists in others is often greater than the primary happiness itself。
The gardener thought 'How happy they are！' and the thought made him
happier than they。
Coming out of the forcing…house again； she was on the point of
returning indoors； when a feeling that these moments of solitude
would be her last of freedom induced her to prolong them a little；
and she stood still； unheeding the wintry aspect of the curly…leaved
plants； the straw…covered beds； and the bare fruit…trees around her。
The garden； no part of which was visible from the house； sloped down
to a narrow river at the foot； dividing it from the meadows without。
A man was lingering along the public path on the other side of the
river； she fancied she knew the form。 Her resolutions； taken in the
presence of Owen； did not fail her now。 She hoped and prayed that
it might not be one who had stolen her heart away； and still kept
it。 Why should he have reappeared at all； when he had declared that
he went out of her sight for ever？
She hastily hid herself； in the lowest corner of the garden close to
the river。 A large dead tree； thickly robed in ivy； had been
considerably depressed by its icy load of the morning； and hung low
over the stream； which here ran slow and deep。 The tree screened
her from the eyes of any passer on the other side。
She waited timidly； and her timidity increased。 She would not allow
herself to see himshe would hear him pass； and then look to see if
it had been Edward。
But； before she heard anything； she became aware of an object
reflected in the water from under the tree which hung over the river
in such a way that； though hiding the actual path； and objects upon
it； it permitted their reflected images to pass beneath its boughs。
The reflected form was that of the man she had seen further off； but
being inverted； she could not definitely characterize him。
He was looking at the upper windows of the Houseat herswas it
Edward； indeed？ If so； he was probably thinking he would like to
say one parting word。 He came closer； gazed into the stream； and
walked very slowly。 She was almost certain that it was Edward。 She
kept more safely hidden。 Conscience told her that she ought not to
see him。 But she suddenly asked herself a question： 'Can it be
possible that he sees my reflected image； as I see his？ Of course
he does！'
He was looking at her in the water。
She could not help herself now。 She stepped forward just as he
emerged from the other side of the tree and appeared erect before
her。 It was Edward Springrovetill the inverted vision met his
eye； dreaming no more of seeing his Cytherea there than of seeing
the dead themselves。
'Cytherea！'
'Mr。 Springrove；' she returned； in a low voice； across the stream。
He was the first to speak again。
'Since we have met； I want to tell you something； before we become
quite as strangers to each other。'
'Nonot nowI did not mean to speakit is not right； Edward。'
She spoke hurriedly and turned away from him； beating the air with
her hand。
'Not one common word of explanation？' he implored。 'Don't think I
am bad enough to try to lead you astray。 Well； goit is better。'
Their eyes met again。 She was nearly choked。 O； how she longed
and dreadedto hear his explanation！
'What is it？' she said desperately。
'It is that I did not come to the church this morning in order to
distress you： I did not； Cytherea。 It was to try to speak to you
before you weremarried。'
He stepped closer； and went on； 'You know what has taken place？
Surely you do？my cousin is married； and I am free。'
'Marriedand not to you？' Cytherea faltered； in a weak whisper。
'Yes； she was married yesterday！ A rich man had appeared； and she
jilted me。 She said she never would have jilted a stranger； but
that by jilting me； she only exercised the right everybody has of
snubbing their own relations。 But that's nothing now。 I came to
you to ask once more if。 。 。 。 But I was too late。'
'But； Edward； what's that； what's that！' she cried； in an agony of
reproach。 'Why did you leave me to return to her？ Why did you
write me that cruel； cruel letter that nearly killed me！'
'Cytherea！ Why； you had grown to lovelikeMr。 Manston； and how
could you be anything to meor care for me？ Surely I acted
naturally？'
'O nonever！ I loved youonly younot himalways you！till
lately。 。 。 。 I try to love him now。'
'But that can't be correct！ Miss Aldclyffe told me that you wanted
to hear no more of meproved it to me！' said Edward。
'Never！ she couldn't。'
'She did； Cytherea。 And she sent me a lettera love…letter； you
wrote to Mr。 Manston。'
'A love…letter I wrote？'
'Yes； a love…letteryou could not meet him just then； you said you
were sorry； but the emotion you had felt with him made you forgetful
of realities。'
The strife of thought in the unhappy girl who listened to this
distortion of her meaning could find no vent in words。 And then
there followed the slow revelation in return； bringing with it all
the misery of an explanation which comes too late。 The question
whether Miss Aldclyffe were schemer or dupe was almost passed over
by Cytherea； un
