CHAPTER VIII
關燈
小
中
大
ThefriendshipbetweenMargaretandMrs.Wilcox,whichwastodevelopsoquicklyandwithsuchstrangeresults,mayperhapshavehaditsbeginningsatSpeyer,inthespring.Perhapstheelderlady,asshegazedatthevulgar,ruddycathedral,andlistenedtothetalkofherhusbandandHelen,mayhavedetectedintheotherandlesscharmingofthesistersadeepersympathy,asounderjudgment.Shewascapableofdetectingsuchthings.PerhapsitwasshewhohaddesiredtheMissSchlegelstobeinvitedtoHowardsEnd,andMargaretwhosepresenceshehadparticularlydesired.AllthisisspeculationMrs.Wilcoxhasleftfewclearindicationsbehindher.ItiscertainthatshecametocallatWickhamPlaceafortnightlater,theverydaythatHelenwasgoingwithhercousintoStettin.
“Helen!”criedFrauleinMosebachinawestrucktones(shewasnowinhercousin’sconfidence)—“hismotherhasforgivenyou!”Andthen,rememberingthatinEnglandthenew-comeroughtnottocallbeforesheiscalledupon,shechangedhertonefromawetodisapproval,andopinedthatMrs.WilcoxwaskeineDame.
“Botherthewholefamily!”snappedMargaret.“Helen,stopgigglingandpirouetting,andgoandfinishyourpacking.Whycan’tthewomanleaveusalone?”
“Idon’tknowwhatIshalldowithMeg,”Helenretorted,collapsinguponthestairs.“She’sgotWilcoxandBoxuponthebrain.Meg,Meg,Idon’tlovetheyounggentlemanIdon’tlovetheyounggentleman,Meg,Meg.Canabodyspeakplainer?”
“Mostcertainlyherlovehasdied,”assertedFrauleinMosebach.
“Mostcertainlyithas,Frieda,butthatwillnotpreventmefrombeingboredwiththeWilcoxesifIreturnthecall.”
ThenHelensimulatedtears,andFrauleinMosebach,whothoughtherextremelyamusing,didthesame.“Oh,boohoo!boohoohoo!Meg’sgoingtoreturnthecall,andIcan’t.‘Coswhy?‘CosI’mgoingtoGerman-eye.”
“IfyouaregoingtoGermany,goandpackifyouaren’t,goandcallontheWilcoxesinsteadofme.”
“But,Meg,Meg,Idon’tlovetheyounggentlemanIdon’tlovetheyoung—Olud,who’sthatcomingdownthestairs?Ivow‘tismybrother.Ocrimini!”
Amale—evensuchamaleasTibby—wasenoughtostopthefoolery.Thebarrierofsex,thoughdecreasingamongthecivilised,isstillhigh,andhigheronthesideofwomen.Helencouldtellhersisterall,andhercousinmuchaboutPaulshetoldherbrothernothing.Itwasnotprudishness,forshenowspokeof“theWilcoxideal”withlaughter,andevenwithagrowingbrutality.Norwasitprecaution,forTibbyseldomrepeatedanynewsthatdidnotconcernhimself.Itwasratherthefeelingthatshebetrayedasecretintothecampofmen,andthat,howevertrivialitwasonthissideofthebarrier,itwouldbecomeimportantonthat.Soshestopped,orratherbegantofoolonothersubjects,untilherlong-sufferingrelativesdroveherupstairs.FrauleinMosebachfollowedher,butlingeredtosayheavilyoverthebanisterstoMargaret,“Itisallright—shedoesnotlovetheyoungman—hehasnotbeenworthyofher.”
“Yes,Iknowthanksverymuch.”
“IthoughtIdidrighttotellyou.”
“Eversomanythanks.”
“What’sthat?”askedTibby.Noonetoldhim,andheproceededintothedining-room,toeatplums.
Thate
