CHAPTERI
IfithadnotrainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeen
zcela
entirelydifferent.Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofherclan,toAuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.
Butitdidrainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.
Valancywakenedearly,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.
Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,inacommunityand
spojení
connectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplythosewhohavefailedtogetaman.DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessoldmaidenhood.
ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.
Ay,therelaythesting.
Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.
Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.
Shedarednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.
Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheheart.
Shehadhada
kouzlo
spellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherworsethananyshehadhadyet.Andshewasafraidhermotherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.
“Suppose,”thoughtValancywithaghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”
Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”
Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehadasenseofhumournobodyinherclansuspected.
Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasverysuperficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,futilelittlefigure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.
Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-paintedfloor,withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,withagrotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;
thefaded,dark-redpaper;
theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;
thebrown-paperlambrequinwithpurplerosesonit;
thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;
thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythicalhoneymoon;
theshell-coveredbox,withoneburstcorner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;
thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theonestiff,yellow
židle
chair;thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtherooms
dole
below.Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofapuppysittingonarainydoorstep.
ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.
Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedrivingrain!
Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theotherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdownastairway,whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertenthbirthday.
Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedQueenLouise.
Butsheneverdared
zničit
destroyitorremoveit.MotherandCousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.
Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.
ButhermotherhadnegativedeverytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.
Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsultedduchess.
TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnighttocryifshewantedto.
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?
Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyother
účel
purpose.Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingandCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinister
účel
purpose.ButherroomintheBlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.
Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.
NobodyintheStirlingclan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherandCousinStickles.
TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlue
Hrad
CastleinSpain.ValancyhadlivedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.
Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-clad
horské
mountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofafairandunknownland.Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthaveworn;
robesofmoonlightandfire;
couchesofrosesandgold;
longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;
courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessang
mezi
amongthemyrtles;hallsofmirrorsthatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,forwhoseglancemendied.
Allthatsupportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.
Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedofhorroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinherBlueCastle.
Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlongdevotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapeloftheBlue
Hradu
Castle.Attwelve,thisloverwasafairladwithgoldencurlsandheavenlyblueeyes.
Atfifteen,hewas
vysoký
tallanddarkandpale,butstillnecessarilypohledný
handsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,spiritual.
Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,andafacestrongandruggedratherthanhandsome.
Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedsmileandamysteriouspast.
Idon’tsayValancydeliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.
Onesimplyfadedawayasanothercame.
ThingsareveryconvenientinthisrespectinBlueCastles.
But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,ValancycouldnotfindthekeyofherBlue
Hradu
Castle.Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.
Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsomeclan,withnopastandnofuture.
Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonorpurplespotanywhere.
Asfarasshecouldlookforwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.
Themomentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdeath.
“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasraining.
Therewouldbenopicnicthatday.
Thisannualpicnic,wherebyAuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirengagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.
Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasherbirthdayand,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.
Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.
Thereseemedtobenothingoftherevolutionaryinhernature.
Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”
andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.
AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedletter.
ValancywouldhavetolookaspleasedandinterestedasifthedressandletterhadbeenhersorelseAuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.
AndValancyhadlongagodecidedthatshewouldratheroffendGodthanAuntWellington,becauseGodmightforgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiable
zvykem
habitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatbeautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowskin—.“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmyskinwasrosesandcream.
IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”
Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.
Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbutrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwas
proto
thereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthathadwonhimhispověst
reputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“WhatisthedifferencebetweenDossandamouse?
“The
myš
mousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”Valancyhadheardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedtothrowsomethingathim.
Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnotthrowthings;
inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasawealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefearandadmonitionofhismoney.
Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.
ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.
Sosheenduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.
AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthow,forAuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.
AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.
Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelastpicnicandwonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”
Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.
Forthesamereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,accordingtothestrictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.
AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbeautyandpresumeonherpopularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.
Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.
Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyandCousinStickles.
Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromAuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.
Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
ItsghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.
Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedtherainthathadsavedherfromit.
Therewouldbenopicnicthisyear.
IfAuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthesacreddayitselfshewouldhavenocelebrationatall.
Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbenopicnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,iftherainheldupintheafternoon,shewouldgouptothe
knihovny
libraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”
SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.
Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindandyour
náboženství
religion,butabookthatwasenjoyablewasdangerous.Valancydidnotknowwhetherhermindwasbeingimprovedornot;
butshefeltvaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.
Theyseemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernow.
ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthelibrariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.
“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomoreinformationcanbehad.
Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
QuitelikelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksareso
populární
popularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemtoraveover.”“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarksonsmiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.
ButcertainlyFosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”
Valancydidn’tknowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.
ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncanny
poznání
knowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.Shecould
sotva
hardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehintofagreatsecretjustalittlefurtheron—somefaint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
ItwasamonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,so
určitě
surelyMothercouldnotobject.Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpainaroundtheheart.
Ithadcomeratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofanoccasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.
Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.
Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.
And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.
Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellher
hrozné
horribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’svarování
warning,mydear.”AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;
andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;
andGeorgianawouldforebodein
dokonale
perfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”ina
tónu
tonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”
Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.
Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatallseriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshementionedit.
Shewouldjustslipup
tiše
quietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.Asforhisbill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthebankforherthedayshewasborn.
Shewasneverallowedtouseeventheinterestofthis,butshewouldsecretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.
Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheart
onemocnění
disease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretiresoon.
NoneoftheStirlingclanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.
Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglicanchurch.
CHAPTERII
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsevenandshemustgetup.
Aslongasshecouldremember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastseven.
CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsinceseven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewasdelicate.
Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.