Chapter1
Itbeganin
een
aWoman’sClubinLondononeen
aFebruaryafternoon—anuncomfortableclub,en
andamiserableafternoon—whenMrs.Wilkins,die
whohadcomedownfromHampsteadtoshopen
andhadlunchedatherclub,nam
tookupTheTimesfromthetableinthesmoking-room,en
andrunningherlistlesseyedowntheAgonyColumnzag
sawthis:.ToThosewhoAppreciateWistaria
en
andSunshine.SmallmediaevalItalianCastleon
de
theshoresoftheMediterraneantobeLaten
LetFurnishedforthemonthofApril.Necessaryservantsremain.
Z,Box1000,
De
TheTimes.Thatwasitsconception;
toch
yet,asinthecaseofvele
manyanother,theconceiverwasunawareofitatthemoment
moment.SoentirelyunawarewasMrs.Wilkins
dat
thatherAprilforthatjaar
yearhadthenandtherebeensettledforherdat
thatshedroppedthenewspapermet
withagesturethatwaszowel
bothirritatedandresigned,andging
wentovertothewindowen
andstareddrearilyoutatthedrippingstraat
street.Notforherweremediaevalcastles,
zelfs
eventhosethatarespeciallydescribedasklein
small.NotforhertheshoresinAprilof
de
theMediterranean,andthewistariaen
andsunshine.Suchdelightswere
alleen
onlyfortherich.Yettheadvertisementhadbeenaddressedtopersonswhoappreciatethesethings,sothatithadbeen,anyhow,addressedtooto
haar
her,forshecertainlyappreciatedthem;meer
morethananybodyknew;more
dan
thanshehadevertold.Maar
Butshewaspoor.In
de
thewholeworldshepossessedofherveryeigen
ownonlyninetypounds,savedfromjaar
yeartoyear,putbycarefullypoundbypound,outofherdressallowance.She
had
hadscrapedthissumtogetheratthesuggestionofherman
husbandasashieldandrefugetegen
againstarainyday.Herdressallowance,
gaf
givenherbyherfather,was£100een
ayear,sothatMrs.Wilkins’sclotheswerewhatherman
husband,urginghertosave,noemde
calledmodestandbecoming,andheracquaintancetoeachother,wanneer
whentheyspokeofheratall,whichwasseldomforshewaszeer
verynegligible,calledaperfectsight.Mr.
Wilkins,
een
asolicitor,encouragedthrift,exceptthatbranchofitwhichgotintohiseten
food.Hedidnotcall
dat
thatthrift,hecalleditslecht
badhousekeeping.Butforthethrift
die
which,likemoth,penetratedintoMrs.Wilkins’sclothesen
andspoiltthem,hehadveel
muchpraise.“Youneverknow,”he
zei
said,“whentherewillbeeen
arainyday,andyoumaybeerg
verygladtofindyouhebt
haveanest-egg.Indeedwe
allebei
bothmay.”Lookingoutof
het
theclubwindowintoShaftesburyAvenue—herswaseen
aneconomicalclub,butconvenientforHampstead,waar
whereshelived,andforShoolbred’s,waar
wheresheshopped—Mrs.Wilkins,having
gestaan
stoodtheresometimeverydrearily,hermind’seyeonde
theMediterraneaninApril,andde
thewistaria,andtheenviableopportunitiesofde
therich,whileherbodilyeyewatchedde
thereallyextremelyhorriblesootyrainvallen
fallingsteadilyonthehurryingumbrellasen
andsplashingomnibuses,suddenlywonderedwhethermisschien
perhapsthiswasnottherainydag
dayMellersh—MellershwasMr.Wilkins—hadsooftenencouragedhertopreparefor,en
andwhethertogetoutofsucheen
aclimateandintothesmallmediaevalcastlewasn’tmisschien
perhapswhatProvidencehadallalongintendedhertodowithhersavings.Deel
Partofhersavings,ofnatuurlijk
course;perhapsquiteasmall
deel
part.Thecastle,beingmediaeval,
kan
mightalsobedilapidated,anddilapidationsweresurelycheap.Shewouldn’tin
het
theleastmindafewofthem,omdat
becauseyoudidn’tpayfordilapidationsdie
whichwerealreadythere;on
de
thecontrary—byreducingthepriceyouhadtobetalen
paytheyreallypaidyou.Maar
Butwhatnonsensetothinkofit...She
draaide
turnedawayfromthewindowmet
withthesamegestureofmingledirritationen
andresignationwithwhichshehad
hadlaiddownTheTimes,en
andcrossedtheroomtowardsthedeur
doorwiththeintentionofhalen
gettinghermackintoshandumbrellaen
andfightingherwayintooneoftheovercrowdedomnibusesen
andgoingtoShoolbred’sonherwayhuis
homeandbuyingsomesolesforMellersh’sdinner—Mellershwasdifficultmet
withfishandlikedonlysoles,exceptsalmon—whenshebeheldMrs.Arbuthnot,awomansheknewbysightasalsolivinginHampsteaden
andbelongingtotheclub,sittingatthetableinthemiddleofthekamer
roomonwhichthenewspapersen
andmagazineswerekept,absorbed,inherdraaide
turn,inthefirstpageofTheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkins
had
hadneveryetspokentoMrs.Arbuthnot,die
whobelongedtooneofde
thevariouschurchsets,anddie
whoanalysed,classified,dividedandregisteredde
thepoor;whereassheandMellersh,
toen
whentheydidgoout,gingen
wenttothepartiesofimpressionistpainters,ofwhominHampsteader
thereweremany.Mellershhada
zuster
sisterwhohadmarriedoneofthemen
andlivedupontheHeath,en
andbecauseofthisallianceMrs.Wilkinswasdrawnintoacirclewhichwashighlyunnaturaltohaar
her,andshehadlearnedtodreadpictures.Shehadto
zeggen
saythingsaboutthem,andshedidn’twist
knowwhattosay.Sheusedtomurmur,“Marvellous,”
en
andfeelthatitwasnotgenoeg
enough.Butnobodyminded.
Nobody
luisterde
listened.NobodytookanynoticeofMrs.Wilkins.
Shewas
het
thekindofpersonwhoisnotnoticedatparties.Herclothes,infestedbythrift,
maakten
madeherpracticallyinvisible;her
gezicht
facewasnon-arresting;herconversationwasreluctant;
shewasshy.
En
Andifone’sclothesandgezicht
faceandconversationareallnegligible,dacht
thoughtMrs.Wilkins,whorecognisedherdisabilities,wat
what,atparties,isthereleftofone?Ook
AlsoshewasalwayswithWilkins,thatclean-shaven,fine-lookingman
man,whogaveaparty,merelybykomen
comingtoit,agreatlucht
air.Wilkinswasveryrespectable.
Hewasknowntobehighlythoughtofbyhisseniorpartners.
Hissister’scircleadmired
hem
him.Hepronouncedadequatelyintelligentjudgmentsonart
en
andartists.Hewaspithy;
hewasprudent;
he
nooit
neversaidawordtooveel
much,nor,ontheotherkant
hand,didheeversayeen
awordtoolittle.Heproduced
de
theimpressionofkeepingcopiesofalles
everythinghesaid;andhewassoobviouslyreliablethatitoften
gebeurde
happenedthatpeoplewhomethimatthesepartieswerden
becamediscontentedwiththeirownsolicitors,en
andafteraperiodofrestlessnessextricatedthemselvesen
andwenttoWilkins.NaturallyMrs.Wilkinswasblottedout.
“She,”
zei
saidhissister,withsomethingherselfofde
thejudicial,thedigested,andde
thefinalinhermanner,“shouldzijn
stayathome.”ButWilkins
kon
couldnotleavehiswifeatthuis
home.Hewasafamilysolicitor,
en
andallsuchhavewivesen
andshowthem.Withhisin
de
theweekhewenttoparties,en
andwithhisonSundaysheging
wenttochurch.Beingstillfairlyyoung—hewasthirty-nine—andambitiousof
oude
oldladies,ofwhomhehad
hadnotyetacquiredinhispracticeeen
asufficientnumber,hecouldnotaffordtomissen
misschurch,anditwasdaar
therethatMrs.Wilkinsbecamefamiliar,thoughnooit
neverthroughwords,withMrs.Arbuthnot.She
zag
sawhermarshallingthechildrenofde
thepoorintopews.She
zouden
wouldcomeinatthehoofd
headoftheprocessionfromtheSundaySchoolprecies
exactlyfiveminutesbeforethechoir,en
andgetherboysandgirlsneatlyfittedintotheirallottedseats,en
anddownontheirlittlekneesintheirpreliminaryprayer,en
andupagainontheirfeetnet
justas,totheswellingorgan,thevestrydeur
dooropened,andthechoiren
andclergy,bigwiththelitaniesen
andcommandmentstheywerepresentlytorollout,emerged.She
had
hadasadface,yetshewasevidentlyefficient.De
ThecombinationusedtomakeMrs.Wilkinswonder,forshehad
hadbeentoldbyMellersh,ondayswhenshehad
hadonlybeenabletokrijgen
getplaice,thatifonewereefficientmen
onewouldn’tbedepressed,anddat
thatifonedoesone’swerk
jobwellonebecomesautomaticallybrighten
andbrisk.AboutMrs.Arbuthnot
er
therewasnothingbrightandbrisk,thoughveel
muchinherwaywithde
theSundaySchoolchildrenthatwasautomatic;maar
butwhenMrs.Wilkins,turningfromthewindow,caughtsightofherintheclubshewasnotbeingautomaticatalle
all,butwaslookingfixedlyateen
oneportionofthefirstpageofTheTimes,houden
holdingthepaperquitestill,hereyesnotbewegen
moving.Shewasjuststaring;
en
andherface,asusual,washet
thefaceofapatienten
anddisappointedMadonna.Obeyinganimpulseshewonderedatevenwhileobeyingit,Mrs.Wilkins,
de
theshyandthereluctant,insteadofproceedingasshehad
hadintendedtothecloakroomen
andfromthencetoSchoolbred’sinsearchofMellersh’sfish,stopte
stoppedatthetableandzitten
satdownexactlyoppositeMrs.Arbuthnot,towhomshehad
hadneveryetspokeninherleven
life.Itwasoneofthose
lange
long,narrowrefectorytables,sothattheywerequitedicht
closetoeachother.Mrs.
Arbuthnot,however,didnot
keek
lookup.Shecontinuedtogaze,
met
witheyesthatseemedtobedromen
dreaming,atonespotonlyofDe
TheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkinswatchedher
een
aminute,tryingtoscrewupcouragetospeaktohaar
her.Shewantedtoaskherifshe
had
hadseentheadvertisement.Shedidnot
wist
knowwhyshewantedtovragen
askherthis,butshewilde
wantedto.Howstupidnottobe
kunnen
abletospeaktoher.Shelookedsokind.
Shelookedsounhappy.
Waarom
Whycouldn’ttwounhappypeoplerefresheachotherontheirweg
waythroughthisdustybusinessofleven
lifebyalittletalk—real,naturaltalk,aboutwhattheyvoelden
felt,whattheywouldhaveliked,whattheynog steeds
stilltriedtohope?Andshe
kon
couldnothelpthinkingthatMrs.Arbuthnot,too,waslezen
readingthatverysameadvertisement.Hereyeswereon
het
theverypartofthepaper.Was
ze
she,too,picturingwhatitzou
wouldbelike—thecolour,thefragrance,thelicht
light,thesoftlappingoftheseaamongkleine
littlehotrocks?Colour,fragrance,
licht
light,sea;insteadofShaftesburyAvenue,
en
andthewetomnibuses,andthefishdepartmentatShoolbred’s,en
andtheTubetoHampstead,en
anddinner,andto-morrowthehetzelfde
sameandthedayafterthehetzelfde
sameandalwaysthesame...SuddenlyMrs.Wilkins
vond
foundherselfleaningacrossthetable.“Areyou
lees
readingaboutthemediaevalcastleen
andthewistaria?”sheheardherself
vragen
asking.NaturallyMrs.Arbuthnotwassurprised;
maar
butshewasnothalfsomuchsurprisedasMrs.Wilkinswasatherselfforvragen
asking.Mrs.
Arbuthnothadnotyettoherknowledgeseteyeson
de
theshabby,lank,loosely-put-togetherfigurezat
sittingoppositeher,withitskleine
smallfreckledfaceandbiggreyeyesbijna
almostdisappearingunderasmashed-downwet-weatherhat,en
andshegazedathereen
amomentwithoutanswering.Shewasreading
over
aboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria,of
orratherhadreadaboutittien
tenminutesbefore,andsincethenhad
hadbeenlostindreams—oflicht
light,ofcolour,offragrance,ofthesoftlappingoftheseaamongkleine
littlehotrocks...“Whydoyou
vraag
askmethat?”shesaidinhergravevoice,forhertrainingof
en
andbythepoorhadgemaakt
madehergraveandpatient.Mrs.
Wilkinsflushed
en
andlookedexcessivelyshyandfrightened.“Oh,
alleen
onlybecauseIsawittoo,en
andIthoughtperhaps—Ithoughtsomehow—”shestammered.
WhereuponMrs.Arbuthnot,her
geest
mindbeingusedtogettingmensen
peopleintolistsanddivisions,fromhabitconsidered,asshegazedthoughtfullyatMrs.Wilkins,onder
underwhatheading,supposingshehadtoclassifyhaar
her,shecouldmostproperlybeput.“AndI
ken
knowyoubysight,”wentonMrs.Wilkins,die
who,likealltheshy,onceshewasbegonnen
startedplungedon,frighteningherselftomeer
moreandmorespeechbyhet
thesheersoundofwhatshehad
hadsaidlastinherears.“EverySunday—I
zie
seeyoueverySundayinchurch—”.“Inchurch?”
echoedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Andthisseemssuchawonderfulthing—thisadvertisement
over
aboutthewistaria—and—”.Mrs.
Wilkins,
die
whomusthavebeenatleastthirty,brak
brokeoffandwriggledinherchairmet
withthemovementofanawkwarden
andembarrassedschoolgirl.“Itseemssowonderful,”she
ging
wentoninakindofburst,“and—itissucheen
amiserableday...”En
AndthenshesatlookingatMrs.Arbuthnotmet
withtheeyesofanimprisonedhond
dog.“Thispoorthing,”thoughtMrs.Arbuthnot,whose
leven
lifewasspentinhelpingen
andalleviating,“needsadvice.”Sheaccordinglypreparedherselfpatientlyto
geven
giveit.“Ifyouseemeinchurch,”she
zei
said,kindlyandattentively,“IsupposeyouliveinHampsteadtoo?”“Ohyes,”
zei
saidMrs.Wilkins.Andsherepeated,her
hoofd
headonitslongthinneckdroopingeen
alittleasiftherecollectionofHampsteadbowedher,“Ohyes.”“Where?”
vroeg
askedMrs.Arbuthnot,who,whenadvicewasneeded,naturallyeerst
firstproceededtocollectthefacts.Maar
ButMrs.Wilkins,layingherhand
handsoftlyandcaressinglyonthedeel
partofTheTimeswheretheadvertisementwas,asthoughthemereprintedwordsofitwereprecious,alleen
onlysaid,“Perhapsthat’swhydit
thisseemssowonderful.”“No—I
denk
thinkthat’swonderfulanyhow,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,vergeten
forgettingfactsandfaintlysighing.“Thenyouwere
las
readingit?”“Yes,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,hereyes
gingen
goingdreamyagain.“Wouldn’titbewonderful?”
murmuredMrs.Wilkins.
“Wonderful,”
zei
saidMrs.Arbuthnot.Herface,which
had
hadlitup,fadedintopatienceweer
again.“Verywonderful,”shesaid.
“Butit’s
geen
nousewastingone’stimedenken
thinkingofsuchthings.”“Oh,
maar
butitis,”wasMrs.Wilkins’squick,surprisingreply;surprising
omdat
becauseitwassomuchunliketherest
restofher—thecharacterlesscoaten
andskirt,thecrumpledhat,theundecidedwispofhaar
hairstragglingout.“Andjusttheconsideringofthemisworthwhileinitself—sucha
verandering
changefromHampstead—andsometimesIbelieve—Iecht
reallydobelieve—ifoneconsidershard
hardenoughonegetsthings.”Mrs.
Arbuthnotobservedherpatiently.
Inwhatcategory
zou
wouldshe,supposingshehadto,puthaar
her?“Perhaps,”shesaid,leaningforward
een
alittle,“youwilltellmeyournaam
name.Ifwearetobefriends”—shesmiledhergravesmile—“asI
hoop
hopeweare,wehadbeter
betterbeginatthebeginning.”“Ohyes—howkindofyou.
I’mMrs.Wilkins,”
zei
saidMrs.Wilkins.“Idon’texpect,”sheadded,flushing,asMrs.Arbuthnot
zei
saidnothing,“thatitconveysanythingtoyou.Soms
Sometimesit—itdoesn’tseemtoconveyniets
anythingtomeeither.But”—she
keek
lookedroundwithamovementofseekinghelp—“IamMrs.Wilkins.”Shedidnotlikeher
naam
name.Itwasamean,
kleine
smallname,withakindoffacetioustwist,shedacht
thought,aboutitsendliketheupwardcurveofeen
apugdog’stail.Thereitwas,however.
Er
Therewasnodoinganythingwithit.Wilkinsshewas
en
andWilkinsshewouldremain;en
andthoughherhusbandencouragedhertogeven
giveitonalloccasionsasMrs.Mellersh-Wilkinsshealleen
onlydidthatwhenhewaswithinearshot,forshedacht
thoughtMellershmadeWilkinsworse,emphasisingitinthemanier
wayChatsworthonthegate-postsofeen
avillaemphasisesthevilla.Toen
Whenfirsthesuggestedshemoest
shouldaddMellershshehadobjectedforde
theabovereason,andaftereen
apause—Mellershwasmuchtooprudenttospreken
speakexceptafterapause,duringwhichpresumablyhewasnam
takingacarefulmentalcopyofhiscomingobservation—hezei
said,muchdispleased,“ButIamnoteen
avilla,”andlookedatherashelookswhohoopt
hopes,forperhapsthehundredthkeer
time,thathemaynothad
havemarriedafool.Of
natuurlijk
coursehewasnotavilla,Mrs.Wilkinsassuredhem
him;shehadneversupposedhewas;
she
had
hadnotdreamedofmeaning...shewasonlyjust
dacht
thinking...The
meer
moresheexplainedthemoreearnestwerd
becameMellersh’shope,familiartohimbythistijd
time,forhehadthenbeenaman
husbandfortwoyears,thathemightnotbyanychancehavegetrouwd
marriedafool;andtheyhadaprolongedquarrel,ifthat
kan
canbecalledaquarrelwhichisconductedmet
withdignifiedsilenceononekant
sideandearnestapologyonde
theother,astowhetherornoMrs.WilkinshadintendedtosuggestthatMr.Wilkinswasavilla.“Ibelieve,”she
had
hadthoughtwhenitwasatlastover—ittookalongwhile—“thatiedereen
anybodywouldquarrelaboutanythingwhenthey’venotleftoffbeingsamen
togetherforasingledayfortwee
twowholeyears.Whatwe
allebei
bothneedisaholiday.”“Myhusband,”
ging
wentonMrs.WilkinstoMrs.Arbuthnot,probeert
tryingtothrowsomelightonherself,“iseen
asolicitor.He—”
Shecast
over
aboutforsomethingshecouldzeggen
sayelucidatoryofMellersh,andvond
found:“He’sveryhandsome.”
“Well,”
zei
saidMrs.Arbuthnotkindly,“thatmoet
mustbeagreatpleasuretoyou.”“Why?”
vroeg
askedMrs.Wilkins.“Because,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,a
beetje
littletakenaback,forconstantintercoursemet
withthepoorhadaccustomedhertohad
haveherpronouncementsacceptedwithoutquestion,“becausebeauty—handsomeness—isagiftlikeanyandere
other,andifitisproperlyused—”.Shetrailedoffintosilence.
Mrs.Wilkins’s
grote
greatgreyeyeswerefixedonhaar
her,anditseemedsuddenlytoMrs.Arbuthnotdat
thatperhapsshewasbecomingcrystallisedintoahabitofexposition,en
andofexpositionafterthemannerofnursemaids,door
throughhavinganaudiencethatcouldn’tbutagree,dat
thatwouldbeafraid,ifitwilde
wished,tointerrupt,thatdidn’twist
know,thatwas,infact,athermercy.Maar
ButMrs.Wilkinswasnotluisterde
listening;forjustthen,absurdasitseemed,
een
apicturehadflashedacrossherbrain,en
andthereweretwofiguresinitzaten
sittingtogetherunderagreattrailingwistariadie
thatstretchedacrossthebranchesofeen
atreeshedidn’tknow,en
anditwasherselfandMrs.Arbuthnot—shezag
sawthem—shesawthem.And
achter
behindthem,brightinsunshine,wereoude
oldgreywalls—themediaevalcastle—shezag
sawit—theywerethere...ShethereforestaredatMrs.Arbuthnot
en
anddidnothearawoord
wordshesaid.AndMrs.ArbuthnotstaredtooatMrs.Wilkins,arrestedbytheexpressiononher
gezicht
face,whichwassweptbytheexcitementofwhatshezag
saw,andwasasluminousen
andtremulousunderitaswater
waterinsunlightwhenitisruffledbyeen
agustofwind.At
dit
thismoment,ifshehadbeenateen
aparty,Mrs.Wilkinswouldhavebeenlookedatmet
withinterest.Theystaredateachother;
Mrs.Arbuthnotsurprised,inquiringly,Mrs.Wilkins
met
withtheeyesofsomeonedie
whohashadarevelation.Of
natuurlijk
course.Thatwashowit
kon
couldbedone.Sheherself,shebyherself,couldn’tafford
het
it,andwouldn’tbeable,zelfs
evenifshecouldaffordhet
it,togothereallalleen
alone;butsheandMrs.Arbuthnot
samen
together...Sheleanedacross
de
thetable.“Whydon’twe
proberen
tryandgetit?”shewhispered.
Mrs.
Arbuthnot
werd
becameevenmorewide-eyed.“Getit?”
sherepeated.
“Yes,”
zei
saidMrs.Wilkins,stillasthoughshewerebang
afraidofbeingoverheard.“Notjust
zitten
sithereandsayHowwonderful,en
andthengohometoHampsteadzonder
withouthavingputoutafinger—gohuis
homejustasusualandseeaboutthediner
dinnerandthefishjustaswe’vebeendoingforyearsen
andyearsandwillgoondoingforyearsen
andyears.Infact,”saidMrs.Wilkins,flushingtotherootsofherhair,forthe
geluid
soundofwhatshewaszei
saying,ofwhatwascomingpouringout,frightenedher,en
andyetshecouldn’tstop,“Izie
seenoendtoit.Er
Thereisnoendtoit.Sothat
er
thereoughttobeabreak,er
thereoughttobeintervals—ineverybody’sinterests.Why,itwould
echt
reallybebeingunselfishtogaan
goawayandbehappyforeen
alittle,becausewewouldcomebacksomuchnicer.You
ziet
see,afterabiteverybodyneedseen
aholiday.”“But—howdoyou
bedoel
mean,getit?”askedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Takeit,”
zei
saidMrs.Wilkins.“Takeit?”