Chapter1
Itbeganin
en
aWoman’sClubinLondononen
aFebruaryafternoon—anuncomfortableclub,og
andamiserableafternoon—whenMrs.Wilkins,der
whohadcomedownfromHampsteadtoshopog
andhadlunchedatherclub,tog
tookupTheTimesfromthetableinthesmoking-room,og
andrunningherlistlesseyened
downtheAgonyColumnsawdette
this:.ToThosewhoAppreciateWistaria
og
andSunshine.SmallmediaevalItalianCastleontheshoresoftheMediterraneantobeLetFurnishedforthemonthofApril.
Necessaryservantsremain.
Z,Box1000,TheTimes.
Thatwasitsconception;
alligevel
yet,asinthecaseofmange
manyanother,theconceiverwasunawareofitatthemoment.SoentirelyunawarewasMrs.WilkinsthatherAprilforthat
år
yearhadthenandtherebeensettledforherthatshedroppedthenewspapermed
withagesturethatwasbåde
bothirritatedandresigned,andgik
wentovertothewindowog
andstareddrearilyoutatthedrippinggade
street.Notforherweremediaevalcastles,
selv
eventhosethatarespeciallydescribedassmå
small.NotforhertheshoresinApriloftheMediterranean,
og
andthewistariaandsunshine.Suchdelightswere
kun
onlyfortherich.Yettheadvertisementhadbeenaddressedto
personer
personswhoappreciatethesethings,sothatithadbeen,anyhow,addressedtootohende
her,forshecertainlyappreciateddem
them;morethananybodyknew;
mere
morethanshehadevertold.Men
Butshewaspoor.Inthe
hele
wholeworldshepossessedofherveryegen
ownonlyninetypounds,savedfromår
yeartoyear,putbycarefullypoundbypound,ud
outofherdressallowance.She
havde
hadscrapedthissumtogetheratthesuggestionofherhusbandasashieldog
andrefugeagainstarainydag
day.Herdressallowance,givenherbyher
far
father,was£100ayear,sothatMrs.Wilkins’sclotheswerewhathermand
husband,urginghertosave,kaldte
calledmodestandbecoming,andheracquaintancetoeachother,når
whentheyspokeofheratall,hvilket
whichwasseldomforshewasmeget
verynegligible,calledaperfectsight.Mr.
Wilkins,
en
asolicitor,encouragedthrift,exceptthatbranchofitwhichkom
gotintohisfood.Hedidnot
kaldte
callthatthrift,hecalleditdårlig
badhousekeeping.Butforthethriftwhich,likemoth,penetratedintoMrs.Wilkins’sclothes
og
andspoiltthem,hehadmeget
muchpraise.“Youneverknow,”he
sagde
said,“whentherewillbeen
arainyday,andyoukan
maybeverygladtofinde
findyouhaveanest-egg.Indeedwe
begge
bothmay.”LookingoutoftheclubwindowintoShaftesburyAvenue—herswasaneconomicalclub,
men
butconvenientforHampstead,whereshelived,og
andforShoolbred’s,wheresheshopped—Mrs.Wilkins,
havde
havingstoodtheresometimeverydrearily,hermind’seyeontheMediterraneaninApril,og
andthewistaria,andtheenviableopportunitiesoftherich,whileherbodilyeyeså
watchedthereallyextremelyhorriblesootyrainfalde
fallingsteadilyonthehurryingumbrellasog
andsplashingomnibuses,suddenlywonderedwhethermåske
perhapsthiswasnottherainydag
dayMellersh—MellershwasMr.Wilkins—hadsooftenencouragedhertopreparefor,og
andwhethertogetoutofet sådant
suchaclimateandintothelille
smallmediaevalcastlewasn’tperhapswhatProvidencehavde
hadallalongintendedhertogøre
dowithhersavings.Partofhersavings,of
selvfølgelig
course;perhapsquiteasmall
del
part.Thecastle,beingmediaeval,
kunne
mightalsobedilapidated,anddilapidationsweresurelycheap.Shewouldn’tintheleast
noget imod
mindafewofthem,fordi
becauseyoudidn’tpayfordilapidationswhichwereallerede
alreadythere;onthecontrary—byreducingthepriceyouhadto
betale
paytheyreallypaidyou.Men
Butwhatnonsensetothinkofit...Sheturned
væk
awayfromthewindowwiththesamme
samegestureofmingledirritationog
andresignationwithwhichshehadlaidned
downTheTimes,andcrossedtheroomtowardsthedøren
doorwiththeintentionofgettinghermackintoshog
andumbrellaandfightinghervej
wayintooneoftheovercrowdedomnibusesog
andgoingtoShoolbred’sonhervej
wayhomeandbuyingsomesolesforMellersh’sdinner—Mellershwasdifficultmed
withfishandlikedonlysoles,exceptsalmon—whenshebeheldMrs.Arbuthnot,akvinde
womansheknewbysightasogså
alsolivinginHampsteadandbelongingtotheclub,sidde
sittingatthetableinthemiddleoftheroomonwhichthenewspapersog
andmagazineswerekept,absorbed,inherturn,inthefirstpageofTheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkins
havde
hadneveryetspokentoMrs.Arbuthnot,whobelongedtoen
oneofthevariouschurchsets,og
andwhoanalysed,classified,dividedog
andregisteredthepoor;whereasshe
og
andMellersh,whentheydidgik
goout,wenttothepartiesofimpressionistpainters,ofwhominHampsteadder
thereweremany.Mellershhada
søster
sisterwhohadmarriedoneofthemog
andlivedupontheHeath,og
andbecauseofthisallianceMrs.Wilkinswasdrawnintoacirclewhichwashighlyunnaturaltohende
her,andshehadlearnedtodreadpictures.Shehadto
sige
saythingsaboutthem,andshedidn’tvidste
knowwhattosay.She
plejede
usedtomurmur,“Marvellous,”andfølte
feelthatitwasnotnok
enough.Butnobodyminded.
Nobody
lyttede
listened.NobodytookanynoticeofMrs.Wilkins.
Shewas
den
thekindofpersonwhoisnotnoticedatparties.Herclothes,infestedbythrift,
gjorde
madeherpracticallyinvisible;her
ansigt
facewasnon-arresting;herconversationwasreluctant;
shewasshy.
Og
Andifone’sclothesandansigt
faceandconversationareallnegligible,tænkte
thoughtMrs.Wilkins,whorecognisedherdisabilities,hvad
what,atparties,isthereleftofen
one?Alsoshewasalways
med
withWilkins,thatclean-shaven,fine-lookingmand
man,whogaveaparty,merelybykomme
comingtoit,agreatluft
air.Wilkinswasveryrespectable.
Hewas
kendt
knowntobehighlythoughtofbyhisseniorpartners.Hissister’scircleadmired
ham
him.Hepronouncedadequatelyintelligentjudgmentsonart
og
andartists.Hewaspithy;
hewasprudent;
he
aldrig
neversaidawordtoomeget
much,nor,ontheotherside
hand,didheeversayet
awordtoolittle.Heproducedtheimpressionofkeepingcopiesof
alt
everythinghesaid;andhewassoobviouslyreliablethatitoftenhappenedthat
folk
peoplewhomethimatdisse
thesepartiesbecamediscontentedwiththeiregne
ownsolicitors,andafteraperiodofrestlessnessextricatedthemselvesog
andwenttoWilkins.NaturallyMrs.Wilkinswasblottedout.
“She,”
sagde
saidhissister,withsomethingherselfofden
thejudicial,thedigested,andden
thefinalinhermanner,“shouldstayathome.”Men
ButWilkinscouldnotleavehiskone
wifeathome.Hewas
en
afamilysolicitor,andallsuchhar
havewivesandshowthem.Med
Withhisintheweekhegik
wenttoparties,andwithhisonSundayshegik
wenttochurch.Beingstillfairlyyoung—hewasthirty-nine—andambitiousofoldladies,ofwhomhe
havde
hadnotyetacquiredinhispracticeet
asufficientnumber,hecouldnotaffordtoglip
misschurch,anditwastherethatMrs.Wilkinsblev
becamefamiliar,thoughneverthroughwords,med
withMrs.Arbuthnot.Shesawhermarshalling
de
thechildrenofthepoorintopews.Shewould
kom
comeinattheheadoftheprocessionfromtheSundaySchoolpræcis
exactlyfiveminutesbeforethechoir,og
andgetherboysandgirlsneatlyfittedintotheirallottedseats,og
anddownontheirlittlekneesintheirpreliminaryprayer,og
andupagainontheirfeetlige
justas,totheswellingorgan,thevestrydør
dooropened,andthechoirog
andclergy,bigwiththelitaniesog
andcommandmentstheywerepresentlytorollud
out,emerged.Shehadasad
ansigt
face,yetshewasevidentlyefficient.Thecombination
plejede
usedtomakeMrs.Wilkinswonder,forshehadbeentoldbyMellersh,ondayswhenshehadkun
onlybeenabletogetplaice,thathvis
ifonewereefficientonewouldn’tbedepressed,og
andthatifonedoesone’sjobgodt
wellonebecomesautomaticallybrightog
andbrisk.AboutMrs.Arbuthnottherewas
intet
nothingbrightandbrisk,thoughmeget
muchinherwaywiththeSundaySchoolbørn
childrenthatwasautomatic;but
da
whenMrs.Wilkins,turningfromden
thewindow,caughtsightofherinden
theclubshewasnotbeingautomaticatall,men
butwaslookingfixedlyatoneportionofden
thefirstpageofTheTimes,holdt
holdingthepaperquitestill,hereyesnotmoving.Shewas
bare
juststaring;andherface,asusual,wasthe
ansigt
faceofapatientanddisappointedMadonna.Obeying
en
animpulseshewonderedatselv
evenwhileobeyingit,Mrs.Wilkins,theshyog
andthereluctant,insteadofproceedingasshehavde
hadintendedtothecloakroomog
andfromthencetoSchoolbred’sinsearchofMellersh’sfish,stoppede
stoppedatthetableandsatdownexactlyoppositeMrs.Arbuthnot,towhomshehavde
hadneveryetspokeninherliv
life.Itwasoneofthoselong,narrowrefectorytables,sothattheywere
ret
quiteclosetoeachother.Mrs.
Arbuthnot,however,didnot
kiggede
lookup.Shecontinuedtogaze,
med
witheyesthatseemedtobedrømme
dreaming,atonespotonlyofTheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkins
så
watchedheraminute,tryingtoscrewupcouragetotale
speaktoher.Shewantedto
spørge
askherifshehadseentheadvertisement.Shedidnot
vidste
knowwhyshewantedtospørge
askherthis,butsheønskede
wantedto.Howstupidnottobe
kunne
abletospeaktoher.She
så
lookedsokind.Shelookedsounhappy.
Hvorfor
Whycouldn’ttwounhappypeoplerefresheachotherontheirvej
waythroughthisdustybusinessoflifebyen
alittletalk—real,naturaltalk,aboutwhattheyfølte
felt,whattheywouldhavelide
liked,whattheystilltriedtohåbe
hope?Andshecouldnothelp
tænke
thinkingthatMrs.Arbuthnot,too,waslæste
readingthatverysameadvertisement.Hereyeswereon
den
theverypartofthepaper.Was
hun
she,too,picturingwhatitville
wouldbelike—thecolour,thefragrance,thelyset
light,thesoftlappingoftheseaamongsmå
littlehotrocks?Colour,fragrance,
lys
light,sea;insteadofShaftesburyAvenue,
og
andthewetomnibuses,andthefishdepartmentatShoolbred’s,og
andtheTubetoHampstead,og
anddinner,andto-morrowthesamme
sameandthedayafterthesamme
sameandalwaysthesame...SuddenlyMrs.Wilkins
fandt
foundherselfleaningacrossthetable.“Areyoureading
om
aboutthemediaevalcastleanddet
thewistaria?”sheheardherself
spørge
asking.NaturallyMrs.Arbuthnotwassurprised;
men
butshewasnothalfsomuchsurprisedasMrs.Wilkinswasatherselfforspørge
asking.Mrs.
Arbuthnothadnot
endnu
yettoherknowledgeseteyesonden
theshabby,lank,loosely-put-togetherfiguresad
sittingoppositeher,withitslille
smallfreckledfaceandbiggreyeyesnæsten
almostdisappearingunderasmashed-downwet-weatherhat,og
andshegazedatheraøjeblik
momentwithoutanswering.Shewasreading
om
aboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria,eller
orratherhadreadaboutitti
tenminutesbefore,andsincethenhavde
hadbeenlostindreams—oflys
light,ofcolour,offragrance,ofthesoftlappingoftheseaamongsmå
littlehotrocks...“Whydoyou
spørger
askmethat?”shesaidinhergravevoice,forhertrainingof
og
andbythepoorhadmadehergraveog
andpatient.Mrs.
Wilkinsflushed
og
andlookedexcessivelyshyandfrightened.“Oh,
kun
onlybecauseIsawitogså
too,andIthoughtperhaps—Itænkte
thoughtsomehow—”shestammered.
WhereuponMrs.Arbuthnot,her
sind
mindbeingusedtogettingfolk
peopleintolistsanddivisions,fromhabitconsidered,asshegazedthoughtfullyatMrs.Wilkins,under
underwhatheading,supposingshefå
hadtoclassifyher,shekunne
couldmostproperlybeput.“AndIknowyoubysight,”wentonMrs.Wilkins,who,like
alle
alltheshy,onceshewasbegyndt
startedplungedon,frighteningherselftomere
moreandmorespeechbythesheerlyd
soundofwhatshehadsaidvar
lastinherears.“EverySunday—I
ser
seeyoueverySundayinchurch—”.“Inchurch?”
echoedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Andthisseems
sådan
suchawonderfulthing—thisadvertisementom
aboutthewistaria—and—”.Mrs.
Wilkins,
der
whomusthavebeenatmindst
leastthirty,brokeoffandwriggledinherchairmed
withthemovementofanawkwardog
andembarrassedschoolgirl.“Itseemssowonderful,”shewentonin
en
akindofburst,“and—itissuchen
amiserableday...”Og
AndthenshesatlookingatMrs.Arbuthnotmed
withtheeyesofanimprisonedhund
dog.“Thispoorthing,”thoughtMrs.Arbuthnot,whose
liv
lifewasspentinhelpingog
andalleviating,“needsadvice.”Sheaccordinglypreparedherselfpatientlyto
give
giveit.“Ifyouseemeinchurch,”she
sagde
said,kindlyandattentively,“Isupposeyoubor
liveinHampsteadtoo?”“Ohyes,”
sagde
saidMrs.Wilkins.Andsherepeated,her
hoved
headonitslongthinneckdroopingalidt
littleasiftherecollectionofHampsteadbowedher,“Ohyes.”“Where?”
spurgte
askedMrs.Arbuthnot,who,whenadvicewasneeded,naturallyførst
firstproceededtocollectthefacts.Men
ButMrs.Wilkins,layingherhånden
handsoftlyandcaressinglyonthedel
partofTheTimeswheretheadvertisementwas,asthoughthemereprintedwordsofitwereprecious,onlysagde
said,“Perhapsthat’swhythisseemssowonderful.”“No—I
synes
thinkthat’swonderfulanyhow,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,glemme
forgettingfactsandfaintlysighing.“Thenyouwere
læste
readingit?”“Yes,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,hereyes
går
goingdreamyagain.“Wouldn’titbewonderful?”
murmuredMrs.Wilkins.
“Wonderful,”
sagde
saidMrs.Arbuthnot.Herface,
der
whichhadlitup,fadedintopatienceigen
again.“Verywonderful,”shesaid.
“Butit’s
ikke
nousewastingone’stimetænke
thinkingofsuchthings.”“Oh,
men
butitis,”wasMrs.Wilkins’squick,surprisingreply;surprising
fordi
becauseitwassomuchunliketheresten
restofher—thecharacterlesscoatog
andskirt,thecrumpledhat,theundecidedwispofhår
hairstragglingout.“Andjust
det
theconsideringofthemisworthwhileinitself—suchaforandring
changefromHampstead—andsometimesIbelieve—Ivirkelig
reallydobelieve—ifoneconsidershårdt
hardenoughonegetsthings.”Mrs.
Arbuthnotobservedherpatiently.
Inwhatcategory
ville
wouldshe,supposingshehadtil
to,puther?“Perhaps,”shesaid,leaningforwarda
lidt
little,“youwilltellmeyournavn
name.Ifwearetobefriends”—shesmiledhergravesmile—“asI
håber
hopeweare,wehadbetterbeginatthebeginning.”“Ohyes—howkindofyou.
I’mMrs.Wilkins,”
sagde
saidMrs.Wilkins.“Idon’texpect,”sheadded,flushing,asMrs.Arbuthnot
sagde
saidnothing,“thatitconveysanythingtoyou.Nogle gange
Sometimesit—itdoesn’tseemtoconveynoget
anythingtomeeither.But”—she
kiggede
lookedroundwithamovementofseekinghelp—“IamMrs.Wilkins.”Shedidnot
lide
likehername.Itwasamean,
lille
smallname,withakindoffacetioustwist,shetænkte
thought,aboutitsendliketheupwardcurveofapugdog’stail.Der
Thereitwas,however.Therewas
ikke
nodoinganythingwithit.Wilkinsshewas
og
andWilkinsshewouldremain;og
andthoughherhusbandencouragedhertogive
giveitonalloccasionsasMrs.Mellersh-Wilkinsshekun
onlydidthatwhenhewaswithinearshot,forshetroede
thoughtMellershmadeWilkinsworse,emphasisingitinthemåde
wayChatsworthonthegate-postsofen
avillaemphasisesthevilla.Da
Whenfirsthesuggestedsheskulle
shouldaddMellershshehadobjectedfortheabovegrund
reason,andafterapause—Mellershwasmeget
muchtooprudenttospeakexceptefter
afterapause,duringwhichpresumablyhewastog
takingacarefulmentalcopyofhiscomingobservation—hesaid,meget
muchdispleased,“ButIamnoten
avilla,”andlookedatherashelookswhohåber
hopes,forperhapsthehundredthgang
time,thathemaynothar
havemarriedafool.Of
selvfølgelig
coursehewasnotavilla,Mrs.Wilkinsassuredham
him;shehadneversupposedhewas;
she
havde
hadnotdreamedofmeaning...shewasonly
bare
justthinking...The
mere
moresheexplainedthemoreearnestblev
becameMellersh’shope,familiartohimbydette
thistime,forhehadthenbeenen
ahusbandfortwoyears,thathemightnotbynogen
anychancehavemarriedafool;og
andtheyhadaprolongedquarrel,hvis
ifthatcanbecalledaquarrelwhichisconductedmed
withdignifiedsilenceononeside
sideandearnestapologyontheanden
other,astowhetherorikke
noMrs.WilkinshadintendedtosuggestthatMr.Wilkinswasavilla.“Ibelieve,”shehad
tænkt
thoughtwhenitwasatvar
lastover—ittookalongwhile—“thatnogen
anybodywouldquarrelaboutanythingwhenthey’venotleftoffbeingsammen
togetherforasingledayforto
twowholeyears.Whatwe
begge
bothneedisaholiday.”“Myhusband,”wentonMrs.WilkinstoMrs.Arbuthnot,
forsøger
tryingtothrowsomelightonherself,“isen
asolicitor.He—”
Shecast
om
aboutforsomethingshecouldsige
sayelucidatoryofMellersh,andfandt
found:“He’sveryhandsome.”
“Well,”
sagde
saidMrs.Arbuthnotkindly,“thatmå
mustbeagreatpleasuretoyou.”“Why?”
spurgte
askedMrs.Wilkins.“Because,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,
en
alittletakenaback,forconstantintercoursemed
withthepoorhadaccustomedhertofå
haveherpronouncementsacceptedwithoutspørgsmål
question,“becausebeauty—handsomeness—isagiftsom
likeanyother,andifitisproperlyused—”.Shetrailedoffintosilence.
Mrs.Wilkins’s
store
greatgreyeyeswerefixedonher,og
anditseemedsuddenlytoMrs.Arbuthnotthatmåske
perhapsshewasbecomingcrystallisedintoahabitofexposition,og
andofexpositionafterthemannerofnursemaids,throughhave
havinganaudiencethatcouldn’tbutagree,thatville
wouldbeafraid,ifitønskede
wished,tointerrupt,thatdidn’tknow,thatwas,infaktisk
fact,athermercy.ButMrs.Wilkinswasnot
lyttede
listening;forjustthen,absurdasitseemed,apicture
havde
hadflashedacrossherbrain,og
andthereweretwofiguresinitsad
sittingtogetherunderagreattrailingwistariathatstretchedacrossthebranchesofatreeshedidn’tkendte
know,anditwasherselfog
andMrs.Arbuthnot—shesawthem—sheså
sawthem.Andbehindthem,brightinsunshine,were
gamle
oldgreywalls—themediaevalcastle—sheså
sawit—theywerethere...ShethereforestaredatMrs.Arbuthnot
og
anddidnothearaord
wordshesaid.AndMrs.ArbuthnotstaredtooatMrs.Wilkins,arrestedbytheexpressiononher
ansigt
face,whichwassweptbytheexcitementofwhatsheså
saw,andwasasluminousog
andtremulousunderitasvand
waterinsunlightwhenitisruffledbyen
agustofwind.At
dette
thismoment,ifshehadbeenaten
aparty,Mrs.Wilkinswouldhave
havebeenlookedatwithinterest.Theystaredateachother;
Mrs.Arbuthnotsurprised,inquiringly,Mrs.Wilkins
med
withtheeyesofsomeoneder
whohashadarevelation.Of
selvfølgelig
course.Thatwashowit
kunne
couldbedone.Sheherself,shebyherself,couldn’tafford
det
it,andwouldn’tbeable,selv
evenifshecouldafforddet
it,togothereallalene
alone;butsheandMrs.Arbuthnot
sammen
together...Sheleanedacrossthetable.
“Whydon’twe
prøver
tryandgetit?”shewhispered.
Mrs.
Arbuthnot
blev
becameevenmorewide-eyed.“Getit?”
sherepeated.
“Yes,”
sagde
saidMrs.Wilkins,stillasthoughshewerebange
afraidofbeingoverheard.“Not
bare
justsithereandsayHvor
Howwonderful,andthengohjem
hometoHampsteadwithouthavinglagt
putoutafinger—gohomebare
justasusualandseeaboutthedinnerog
andthefishjustaswe’vebeendoingforyearsog
andyearsandwillgoondoingforyearsog
andyears.Infact,”saidMrs.Wilkins,flushingtotherootsofher
hår
hair,forthesoundofwhatshewassagde
saying,ofwhatwascomingpouringud
out,frightenedher,andyetshecouldn’tstoppe
stop,“Iseenoendtoit.Der
Thereisnoendtodet
it.Sothatthereoughttobe
en
abreak,thereoughttobeintervals—ineverybody’sinterests.Why,it
ville
wouldreallybebeingunselfishtogoawayog
andbehappyforalittle,becauseweville
wouldcomebacksomuchnicer.You
ser
see,afterabiteverybodyneedsen
aholiday.”“But—howdoyou
mener
mean,getit?”askedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Takeit,”
sagde
saidMrs.Wilkins.“Takeit?”