fraternity-第11部分

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ess　attitude　that　she　too　would　have　liked　an　easy　life。　　To　dwell　on　things　like　this　was　to　feel　more　than　thirty…　eight！

Cecilia　had　no　pocket；　Providence　having　removed　it　now　for　some　time　past；　but　from　her　little　bag　she　drew　forth　the　two　essentials　of　gentility。　　Taking　her　nose；　which　she　feared　was　shining；　gently　within　one；　she　fumbled　in　the　other。　　And　again　she　looked　doubtfully　at　Mrs。　Hughs。　　Her　heart　said：　'Give　the　poor　woman　half　a　sovereign；　it　might　comfort　her！'　But　her　brain　said：　'I　owe　her　four…and…six；　after　what　she's　just　been　saying　about　her　husband　and　that　girl　and　Hilary；　it　mayn't　be　safe　to　give　her　more。'　She　held　out　two　half…crowns；　and　had　an　inspiration：　〃I　shall　mention　to　my　sister　what　you've　said；　you　can　tell　your　husband　that！〃

No　sooner　had　she　said　this；　however；　than　she　saw；　from　a　little　smile　devoid　of　merriment　and　quickly　extinguished；　that　Mrs。　Hughs　did　not　believe　she　would　do　anything　of　the　kind；　from　which　she　concluded　that　the　seamstress　was　convinced　of　Hilary's　interest　in　the　little　model。　　She　said　hastily：

〃You　can　go　now；　Mrs。　Hughs。〃

Mrs。　Hughs　went；　making　no　noise　or　sign　of　any　sort。

Cecilia　returned　to　her　scattered　thoughts。　　They　lay　there　still；　with　a　gleam　of　sun　from　the　low　window　smearing　their　importance；　she　felt　somehow　that　it　did　not　now　matter　very　much　whether　she　and　Stephen；　in　the　interests　of　science；　saw　that　man　fall　from　his　balloon；　or；　in　the　interests　of　art；　heard　Herr　von　Kraaffe　sing　his　Polish　songs；　she　experienced；　too；　almost　a　revulsion　in　favour　of　tinned　milk。　　After　meditatively　tearing　up　her　note　to　Messrs。　Rose　and　Thorn；　she　lowered　the　bureau　lid　and　left　the　room。

Mounting　the　stairs；　whose　old　oak　banisters　on　either　side　were　a　real　joy；　she　felt　she　was　stupid　to　let　vague；　sordid　rumours；　which；　after　all；　affected　her　but　indirectly；　disturb　her　morning's　work。　　And　entering　Stephen's　dressing…room　she　stood　looking　at　his　boots。

Inside　each　one　of　them　was　a　wooden　soul；　none　had　any　creases；　none　had　any　holes。　　The　moment　they　wore　out；　their　wooden　souls　were　taken　from　them　and　their　bodies　given　to　the　poor；　whilstin　accordance　with　that　theory；　to　hear　a　course　of　lectures　on　which　a　scattered　thought　was　even　now　inviting　herthe　wooden　souls　migrated　instantly　to　other　leathern　bodies。

Looking　at　that　polished　row　of　boots；　Cecilia　felt　lonely　and　unsatisfied。　　Stephen　worked　in　the　Law　Courts；　Thyme　worked　at　Art；　both　were　doing　something　definite。　　She　alone；　it　seemed；　had　to　wait　at　home；　and　order　dinner；　answer　letters；　shop；　pay　calls；　and　do　a　dozen　things　that　failed　to　stop　her　thoughts　from　dwelling　on　that　woman's　tale。　　She　was　not　often　conscious　of　the　nature　of　her　life；　so　like　the　lives　of　many　hundred　women　in　this　London；　which　she　said　she　could　not　stand；　but　which　she　stood　very　well。　　As　a　rule；　with　practical　good　sense；　she　kept　her　doubting　eyes　fixed　friendlily　on　every　little　phase　in　turn；　enjoying　well　enough　fitting　the　Chinese　puzzle　of　her　scattered　thoughts；　setting　out　on　each　small　adventure　with　a　certain　cautious　zest；　and　taking　Stephen　with　her　as　far　as　he　allowed。　　This　last　year　or　so；　now　that　Thyme　was　a　grown　girl；　she　had　felt　at　once　a　loss　of　purpose　and　a　gain　of　liberty。　　She　hardly　knew　whether　to　be　glad　or　sorry。　　It　freed　her　for　the　tasting　of　more　things；　more　people；　and　more　Stephen；　but　it　left　a　little　void　in　her　heart；　a　little　soreness　round　it。　What　would　Thyme　think　if　she　heard　this　story　about　her　uncle？　　The　thought　started　a　whole　train　of　doubts　that　had　of　late　beset　her。　Was　her　little　daughter　going　to　turn　out　like　herself？　　If　not；　why　not？　　Stephen　joked　about　his　daughter's　skirts；　her　hockey；　her　friendship　with　young　men。　　He　joked　about　the　way　Thyme　refused　to　let　him　joke　about　her　art　or　about　her　interest　in　〃the　people。〃　His　joking　was　a　source　of　irritation　to　Cecilia。　　For；　by　woman's　instinct　rather　than　by　any　reasoning　process；　she　was　conscious　of　a　disconcerting　change。　　Amongst　the　people　she　knew；　young　men　were　not　now　attracted　by　girls　as　they　had　been　in　her　young　days。　　There　was　a　kind　of　cool　and　friendly　matter…of…factness　in　the　way　they　treated　them；　a　sort　of　almost　scientific　playfulness。　　And　Cecilia　felt　uneasy　as　to　how　far　this　was　to　go。　　She　seemed　left　behind。　If　young　people　were　really　becoming　serious；　if　youths　no　longer　cared　about　the　colour　of　Thyme's　eyes；　or　dress；　or　hair；　what　would　there　be　left　to　care　forthat　is；　up　to　the　point　of　definite　relationship？　　Not　that　she　wanted　her　daughter　to　be　married。　　It　would　be　time　enough　to　think　of　that　when　she　was　twenty…five。　　But　her　own　experiences　had　been　so　different。　　She　had　spent　so　many　youthful　hours　in　wondering　about　men；　had　seen　so　many　men　cast　furtive　looks　at　her；　and　now　there　did　not　seem　in　men　or　girls　anything　left　worth　the　other's　while　to　wonder　or　look　furtive　about。　　She　was　not　of　a　philosophic　turn　of　mind；　and　had　attached　no　deep　meaning　to　Stephen's　jest〃If　young　people　will　reveal　their　ankles；　they'll　soon　have　no　ankles　to　reveal。〃

To　Cecilia　the　extinction　of　the　race　seemed　threatened；　in　reality　her　species　of　the　race　alone　was　vanishing；　which　to　her；　of　course；　was　very　much　the　same　disaster。　　With　her　eyes　on　Stephen's　boots　she　thought：　'How　shall　I　prevent　what　I've　heard　from　coming　to　Bianca's　ears？　　I　know　how　she　would　take　it！　　How　shall　I　prevent　Thyme's　hearing？　　I'm　sure　I　don't　know　what　the　effect　would　be　on　her！　　I　must　speak　to　Stephen。　　He's　so　fond　of　Hilary。'

And；　turning　away　from　Stephen's　boots；　she　mused：　'Of　course　it's　nonsense。　　Hilary's　much　tootoo　nice；　too　fastidious；　to　be　more　than　just　interested；　but　he's　so　kind　he　might　easily　put　himself　in　a　false　position。　　Andit's　ugly　nonsense！　　B。　can　be　so　disagreeable；　even　now　she's　noton　terms　with　him！'　　And　suddenly　the　thought　of　Mr。　Purcey　leaped　into　her　mindMr。　Purcey；　who；　as　Mrs。　Tallents　Smallpeace　had　declared；　was　not　even　conscious　that　there　was　a　problem　of　the　poor。　　To　think　of　him　seemed　somehow　at　that　moment　comforting；　like　rolling　oneself　in　a　blanket　against　a　draught。　　Passing　into　her　room；　she　opened　her　wardrobe　door。

'Bother　the　woman！'　she　thought。　　'I　do　want　that　gentian　dress　got　ready；　but　now　I　simply　can't　give　it　to　her　to　do。'




CHAPTER　VIII

THE　SINGLE　MIND　OF　MR。　STONE

Since　in　the　flutter　of　her　spirit　caused　by　the　words　of　Mrs。　Hughs；　Cecilia　felt　she　must　do　something；　she　decided　to　change　her　dress。

The　furniture　of　the　pretty　room　she　shared　with　Stephen　had　not　been　hastily　assembled。　　Conscious；　even　fifteen　years　ago；　when　they　moved　into　this　house；　of　the　grave　Philistinism　of　the　upper　classes；　she　and　Stephen　had　ever　kept　their　duty　to　aestheticism　green；　and；　in　the　matter　of　their　bed；　had　lain　for　two　years　on　two　little　white　affairs；　comfortable；　but　purely　temporary；　that　they　might　give　themselves　a　chance。　　The　chance　had　come　at　lasta　bed　in　real　keeping　with　the　period　they　had　settled　on；　and　going　for　twelve　pounds。　　They　had　not　let　it　go；　and　now　slept　in　itnot　quite　so　comfortable；　perhaps；　but　comfortable　enough；　and　conscious　of　duty　done。

For　fifteen　years　Cecilia　had　been　furnishing　her　house；　the　process　approached　completion。　　The　only　things　remaining　on　her　mindapart；　that　is；　from　Thyme's　development　and　the　condition　of　the　people　were：　item；　a　copper　lantern　that　would　allow　some　light　to　pass　its　framework；　item；　an　old　oak　washstand　not　going　back　to　Cromwell's　time。　　And　now　this　third　anxiety　had　come！

She　was　rather　touching；　as　she　stood　before　the　wardrobe　glass　divested　of　her　bodice；　with　dimples　of　exertion　in　her　thin　white　arms　while　she　hooked　her　skirt　behind；　and　her　greenish　eyes　troubled；　so　anxious　to　do　their　best　for　everyone；　and　save　risk　of　any　sort。　　Having　put　on　a　bramble…coloured　frock；　which　laced　across　her　breast　with　silver　lattice…work；　and　a　hat　（without　feathers；　so　as　to　encourage　birds）　fastened　to　her　head　with　pins　（bought　to　aid　a　novel　school　of　metal…work）；　she　went　to　see　what　sort　of　day　it　was。

The　window　looked　out　at　the　back　over　some　dreary　streets；　where　the　wind　was　flinging　light　drifts　of　smoke　athwart　the　sunlight。　　They　had　chosen　this　room；　not　indeed　for　its　view　over　the　condition　of　the　people；　but　because　of　the　sky　effects　at　sunset；　which　were　extremely　fine。　　For　the　first　time；　perhaps；　Cecilia　was　conscious　that　a　sample　of　the　class　she　was　so　interested　in　was　exposed　to　view　beneath　her　nose。　　'The　Hughs　live　somewhere　there；'　she　thought。　　'After　all　I　think　B。　ought　to　know　about　that　man。　　She　might　speak　to　father；　and　get　him　to　give　up　having　the　girl　to　copy　for　himthe　whole　thing's　so　worrying。'

In　pursuance　of　this　thought；　she　lunched　hastily；　and　went　out；　making　her　way　to　Hilary's。　　With　every　step　she　became　more　uncertain。　　The　fear　of　meddling　too　much；　of　not　meddling　enough；　of　seeming　meddlesome；　timidity　at　touching　anything　so　awkward；　distrust；　even　ignorance；　of　her　sister's　character；　which　was　like；　yet　so　very　unlike；　her　own；　a　real　itch　to　get　the　matter　settled；　so　that　nothing　whatever　should　come　of　itall　this　she　felt。　　She　hurried；　dawdled；　finished　the　adventure　almost　at　a　run；　then　told　the　servant　not　to　announce　her。　　The　vision　of　Bianca's　eyes；　while　she　listened　to　this　tale；　was　suddenly　too　much　for　Cecilia。　　She　decided　to　pay　a　visit　to　her　father　first。

Mr。　Stone　was　writing；　attired　in　his　working　dressa　thick　brown　woollen　gown；　revealing　his　thin　neck　above　the　line　of　a　blue　shirt；　and　tightly　gathered　round　the　waist　with　tasselled　cord；　the　lower　portions　of　grey　trousers　were　visible　above　woollen…slippered　feet。　His　hair　straggled　over　his　thin　long　ears。　　The　window；　wide　open；　admitted　an　east　wind；　there　was　no　fire。　　Cecilia　shivered。

〃Come　in　quickly；〃　said　Mr。　Stone。　　Turning　to　a　big　high　desk　of　stained　deal　which　occupied　the　middle　of　one　wall；　he　began　methodically　to　place　the　inkstand；　a　heavy　paper…knife；　a　book；　and　stones　of　several　sizes；　on　his　guttering　sheets　of　manuscript。

Cecilia　looked　about　her；　she　had　not　been　inside　her　father's　room