CHAPTER VIII
關燈
小
中
大
tfourfeetfromtheground.Thecountrypeopleputtheminlongago,andtheythinkthatiftheychewapieceofthebark,itwillcurethetoothache.Theteetharealmostgrownovernow,andnoonecomestothetree.”
“Ishould.Ilovefolkloreandallfesteringsuperstitions.”
“Doyouthinkthatthetreereallydidcuretoothache,ifonebelievedinit?”
“Ofcourseitdid.Itwouldcureanything—once.”
“CertainlyIremembercases—youseeIlivedatHowardsEndlong,longbeforeMr.Wilcoxknewit.Iwasbornthere.”
Theconversationagainshifted.Atthetimeitseemedlittlemorethanaimlesschatter.ShewasinterestedwhenherhostessexplainedthatHowardsEndwasherownproperty.ShewasboredwhentoominuteanaccountwasgivenoftheFussellfamily,oftheanxietiesofCharlesconcerningNaples,ofthemovementsofMr.WilcoxandEvie,whoweremotoringinYorkshire.Margaretcouldnotbearbeingbored.Shegrewinattentive,playedwiththephotographframe,droppedit,smashedDolly’sglass,apologised,waspardoned,cutherfingerthereon,waspitied,andfinallysaidshemustbegoing—therewasallthehousekeepingtodo,andshehadtointerviewTibby’sriding-master.
Thenthecuriousnotewasstruckagain.
“Good-bye,MissSchlegel,good-bye.Thankyouforcoming.Youhavecheeredmeup.”
“I’msoglad!”
“I—Iwonderwhetheryoueverthinkaboutyourself?”
“Ithinkofnothingelse,”saidMargaret,blushing,butlettingherhandremaininthatoftheinvalid.
“Iwonder.IwonderedatHeidelberg.”
“I’Msure!”
“Ialmostthink—”
“Yes?”askedMargaret,fortherewasalongpause—apausethatwassomehowakintotheflickerofthefire,thequiverofthereading-lampupontheirhands,thewhiteblurfromthewindowapauseofshiftingandeternalshadows.
“Ialmostthinkyouforgetyou’reagirl.”
Margaretwasstartledandalittleannoyed.“I’mtwenty-nine,”sheremarked.“That’snotsowildlygirlish.”
Mrs.Wilcoxsmiled.
“Whatmakesyousaythat?DoyoumeanthatIhavebeengaucheandrude?”
Ashakeofthehead.“IonlymeantthatIamfifty-one,andthattomebothofyou—ReaditallinsomebookorotherIcannotputthingsclearly.”
“Oh,I’vegotit—inexperience.I’mnobetterthanHelen,youmean,andyetIpresumetoadviseher.”
“Yes.Youhavegotit.Inexperienceistheword.”
“Inexperience,”repeatedMargaret,inseriousyetbuoyanttones.
“Ofcourse,Ihaveeverythingtolearn—absolutelyeverything—justasmuchasHelen.Life’sverydifficultandfullofsurprises.Atallevents,I’vegotasfarasthat.Tobehumbleandkind,togostraightahead,tolovepeopleratherthanpitythem,torememberthesubmerged—well,onecan’tdoallthesethingsatonce,worseluck,becausethey’resocontradictory.It’sthenthatproportioncomesin—tolivebyproportion.Don’tBEGINwithproportion.Onlyprigsdothat.Letproportioncomeinasalastresource,whenthebetterthingshavefailed,andadeadlock—Graciousme,I’vestartedpreaching!”
“Indeed,youputthedifficultiesoflifesplendidly,”saidMrs.Wilcox,withdrawingherhandintothedeepershadows.“ItisjustwhatIshouldhavelikedtosayaboutthemmyself.”
