The Rainbow-虹(英文版)- 第86部分

She　was　aware　of　him　as　if　in　a　mesmeric　state。　In　her
ordinary　sense；　she　had　nothing　to　do　with　him。　But　the　peculiar
ease　and　unnoticeableness　of　his　entering　the　house；　the　power
of　his　cold；　gleaming　light　on　her　when　he　looked　at　her；　was
like　a　bewitchment。　In　his　eyes；　as　in　the　pale　grey　eyes　of　a
goat；　there　seemed　some　of　that　steady；　hard　fire　of　moonlight
which　has　nothing　to　do　with　the　day。　It　made　her　alert；　and　yet
her　mind　went　out　like　an　extinguished　thing。　She　was　all
senses；　all　her　senses　were　alive。

Then　she　saw　him　on　Sunday；　dressed　up　in　Sunday　clothes；
trying　to　impress　her。　And　he　looked　ridiculous。　She　clung　to
the　ridiculous　effect　of　his　stiff；　Sunday　clothes。

She　was　always　conscious　of　some　unfaithfulness　to　Maggie；　on
Anthony's　score。　Poor　Maggie　stood　apart　as　if　betrayed。　Maggie
and　Anthony　were　enemies　by　instinct。　Ursula　had　to　go　back　to
her　friend　brimming　with　affection　and　a　poignancy　of　pity。
Which　Maggie　received　with　a　little　stiffness。　Then　poetry　and
books　and　learning　took　the　place　of　Anthony；　with　his　goats'
movements　and　his　cold；　gleaming　humour。

While　Ursula　was　at　Belcote；　the　snow　fell。　In　the　morning；　a
covering　of　snow　weighed　on　the　rhododendron　bushes。

〃Shall　we　go　out？〃　said　Maggie。

She　had　lost　some　of　her　leader's　sureness；　and　was　now
tentative；　a　little　in　reserve　from　her　friend。

They　took　the　key　of　the　gate　and　wandered　into　the　park。　It
was　a　white　world　on　which　dark　trees　and　tree　masses　stood
under　a　sky　keen　with　frost。　The　two　girls　went　past　the　hall；
that　was　shuttered　and　silent；　their　footprints　marking　the　snow
on　the　drive。　Down　the　park；　a　long　way　off；　a　man　was　carrying
armfuls　of　hay　across　the　snow。　He　was　a　small；　dark　figure；
like　an　animal　moving　in　its　unawareness。

Ursula　and　Maggie　went　on　exploring；　down　to　a　tinkling；
chilly　brook；　that　had　worn　the　snow　away　in　little　scoops；　and
ran　dark　between。　They　saw　a　robin　glance　its　bright　eyes　and
burst　scarlet　and　grey　into　the　hedge；　then　some　pertlymarked
bluetits　scuffled。　Meanwhile　the　brook　slid　on　coldly；
chuckling　to　itself。

The　girls　wandered　across　the　snowy　grass　to　where　the
artificial　fishponds　lay　under　thin　ice。　There　was　a　big　tree
with　a　thick　trunk　twisted　with　ivy；　that　hung　almost　horizontal
over　the　ponds。　Ursula　climbed　joyfully　into　this　and　sat　amid
bosses　of　bright　ivy　and　dull　berries。　Some　ivy　leaves　were　like
green　spears　held　out；　and　tipped　with　snow。　The　ice　was　seen
beneath　them。

Maggie　took　out　a　book；　and　sitting　lower　down　the　trunk
began　to　read　Coleridge's　〃Christabel〃。　Ursula　half　listened。
She　was　wildly　thrilled。　Then　she　saw　Anthony　ing　across　the
snow；　with　his　confident；　slightly　strutting　stride。　His　face
looked　brown　and　hard　against　the　snow；　smiling　with　a　sort　of
tense　confidence。

〃Hello！〃　she　called　to　him。

A　response　went　over　his　face；　his　head　was　lifted　in　an
answering；　jerking　gesture。

〃Hello！〃　he　said。　〃You're　like　a　bird　in　there。〃

And　Ursula's　laugh　rang　out。　She　answered　to　the　peculiar；
reedy　twang　in　his　perating　voice。

She　did　not　think　of　Anthony；　yet　she　lived　in　a　sort　of
connection　with　him；　in　his　world。　One　evening　she　met　him　as
she　was　ing　down　the　lane；　and　they　walked　side　by　side。

〃I　think　it's　so　lovely　here；〃　she　cried。

〃Do　you？〃　he　said。　〃I'm　glad　you　like　it。〃

There　was　a　curious　confidence　in　his　voice。

〃Oh；　I　love　it。　What　more　does　one　want　than　to　live　in　this
beautiful　place；　and　make　things　grow　in　your　garden。　It　is　like
the　Garden　of　Eden。〃

〃Is　it？〃　he　said；　with　a　little　laugh。　〃Yeswell；　it's
not　so　bad〃　he　was　hesitating。　The　pale　gleam　was
strong　in　his　eyes；　he　was　looking　at　her　steadily；　watching
her；　as　an　animal　might。　Something　leaped　in　her　soul。　She　knew
he　was　going　to　suggest　to　her　that　she　should　be　as　he　was。

〃Would　you　like　to　stay　here　with　me？〃　he　asked；
tentatively。

She　blenched　with　fear　and　with　the　intense　sensation　of
proffered　licence　suggested　to　her。

They　had　e　to　the　gate。

〃How？〃　she　asked。　〃You　aren't　alone　here。〃

〃We　could　marry；〃　he　answered；　in　the　strange；
coldlygleaming　insinuating　tone　that　chilled　the　sunshine　into
moonlight。　All　substantial　things　seemed　transformed。　Shadows
and　dancing　moonlight　were　real；　and　all　cold；　inhuman；　gleaming
sensations。　She　realized　with　something　like　terror　that　she　was
going　to　accept　this。　She　was　going　inevitably　to　accept　him。
His　hand　was　reaching　out　to　the　gate　before　them。　She　stood
still。　His　flesh　was　hard　and　brown　and　final。　She　seemed　to　be
in　the　grip　of　some　insult。

〃I　couldn't；〃　she　answered；　involuntarily。

He　gave　the　same　brief；　neighing　little　laugh；　very　sad　and
bitter　now；　and　slotted　back　the　bar　of　the　gate。　Yet　he　did　not
open。　For　a　moment　they　both　stood　looking　at　the　fire　of　sunset
that　quivered　among　the　purple　twigs　of　the　trees。　She　saw　his
brown；　hard；　wellhewn　face　gleaming　with　anger　and　humiliation
and　submission。　He　was　an　animal　that　knows　that　it　is　subdued。
Her　heart　flamed　with　sensation　of　him；　of　the　fascinating　thing
he　offered　her；　and　with　sorrow；　and　with　an　inconsolable　sense
of　loneliness。　Her　soul　was　an　infant　crying　in　the　night。　He
had　no　soul。　Oh；　and　why　had　she？　He　was　the　cleaner。

She　turned　away；　she　turned　round　from　him；　and　saw　the　east
flushed　strangely　rose；　the　moon　ing　yellow　and　lovely　upon　a
rosy　sky；　above　the　darkening；　bluish　snow。　All　this　so
beautiful；　all　this　so　lovely！　He　did　not　see　it。　He　was　one
with　it。　But　she　saw　it；　and　was　one　with　it。　Her　seeing
separated　them　infinitely。

They　went　on　in　silence　down　the　path；　following　their
different　fates。　The　trees　grew　darker　and　darker；　the　snow　made
only　a　dimness　in　an　unreal　world。　And　like　a　shadow；　the　day
had　gone　into　a　faintly　luminous；　snowy　evening；　while　she　was
talking　aimlessly　to　him；　to　keep　him　at　a　distance；　yet　to　keep
him　near　her；　and　he　walked　heavily。　He　opened　the　garden　gate
for　her　quietly；　and　she　was　entering　into　her　own　pleasances；
leaving　him　outside　the　gate。

Then　even　whilst　she　was　escaping；　or　trying　to　escape；　this
feeling　of　pain；　came　Maggie　the　next　day；　saying：

〃I　wouldn't　make　Anthony　love　you；　Ursula；　if　you　don't　want
him。　It　is　not　nice。〃

〃But；　Maggie；　I　never　made　him　love　me；〃　cried　Ursula；
dismayed　and　suffering；　and　feeling　as　if　she　had　done　something
base。

She　liked　Anthony；　though。　All　her　life；　at　intervals；　she
returned　to　the　thought　of　him　and　of　that　which　he　offered。　But
she　was　a　traveller；　she　was　a　traveller　on　the　face　of　the
earth；　and　he　was　an　isolated　creature　living　in　the　fulfilment
of　his　own　senses。

She　could　not　help　it；　that　she　was　a　traveller。　She　knew
Anthony；　that　he　was　not　one。　But　oh；　ultimately　and　finally；
she　must　go　on　and　on；　seeking　the　goal　that　she　knew　she　did
draw　nearer　to。

She　was　wearing　away　her　second　and　last　cycle　at　St。
Philip's。　As　the　months　went　she　ticked　them　off；　first　October；
then　November；　December；　January。　She　was　careful　always　to
subtract　a　month　from　the　remainder；　for　the　summer　holidays。
She　saw　herself　travelling　round　a　circle；　only　an　arc　of　which
remained　to　plete。　Then；　she　was　in　the　open；　like　a　bird
tossed　into　midair；　a　bird　that　had　learned　in　some　measure　to
fly。

There　was　college　ahead；　that　was　her　midair；　unknown；
spacious。　e　college；　and　she　would　have　broken　from　the
confines　of　all　the　life　she　had　known。　For　her　father　was　also
going　to　move。　They　were　all　going　to　leave　Cossethay。

Brangwen　had　kept　his　carelessness　about　his　circumstances。
He　knew　his　work　in　the　lace　designing　meant　little　to　him
personally；　he　just　earned　his　wage　by　it。　He　did　not　know　what
meant　much　to　him。　Living　close　to　Anna　Brangwen；　his　mind　was
always　suffused　through　with　physical　heat；　he　moved　from
instinct　to　instinct；　groping；　always　groping　on。

When　it　was　suggested　to　him　that　he　might　apply　for　one　of
the　posts　as　handwork　instructor；　posts　about　to　be　created　by
the　Nottingham　Education　mittee；　it　was　as　if　a　space　had
been　given　to　him；　into　which　he　could　remove　from　his　hot；
dusky　enclosure。　He　sent　in　his　application；　confidently；
expectantly。　He　had　a　sort　of　belief　in　his　supernatural　fate。
The　inevitable　weariness　of　his　daily　work　had　stiffened　some　of
his　muscles；　and　made　a　slight　deadness　in　his　ruddy；　alert
face。　Now　he　might　escape。

He　was　full　of　the　new　possibilities；　and　his　wife　was
acquiescent。　She　was　willing　now　to　have　a　change。　She　too　was
tired　of　Cossethay。　The　house　was　too　small　for　the　growing
children。　And　since　she　was　nearly　forty　years　old；　she　began　to
e　awake　from　her　sleep　of　motherhood；　her　energy　moved　more
outwards。　The　din　of　growing　lives　roused　her　from　her　apathy。
She　too　must　have　her　hand　in　making　life。　She　was　quite　ready
to　move；　taking　all　her　brood。　It　would　be　better　now　if　she
transplanted　them。　For　she　had　borne　her　last　child；　it　would　be
growing　up。

So　that　in　her　easy；　unused　fashion　she　talked　plans　and
arrangements　with　her　husband；　indifferent　really　as　to　the
method　of　the　change；　since　a　change　was　ing；　even　if　it　did
not　e　in　this　way　it　would　e　in　another。

The　house　was　full　of　ferment。　Ursula　was　wild　with
excitement。　At　last　her　father　was　going　to　be　something；
socially。　So　long；　he　had　been　a　social　cypher；　without　form　or
standing。　Now　he　was　going　to　be　Art　and　Handwork　Instructor　for
the　County　of　Nottingham。　That　was　really　a　status。　It　was　a
position。　He　would　be　a　specialist　in　his　way。　And　he　was　an
unmon　man。　Ursula　felt　they　were　all　getting　a　foothold　at
last。　He　was　ing　to　his　own。　Who　else　that　she　knew　could
turn　out　from　his　own　fingers　the　beautiful　things　her　father
could　produce？　She　felt　he　was　certain　of　this　new　job。

They　would　move。　They　would　leave　this　cottage　at　Cossethay
which　had　grown　too　small　for　them；　they　would　leave　Cossethay；
where　the　children　had　all　been　born；　and　where　they　were　always
kept　to　the　same　measure。　For　the　people　who　had　known　them　as
children　along　with　the　other　village　boys　and　girls　would
never；　could　never　understand　that　they　should　grow　up
d