CHAPTERI
Ifithadnot
geregend
rainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofherclan,to
Tante
AuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.Butitdid
regende
rainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.Valancywakened
vroeg
early,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,inacommunityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedare
simpelweg
simplythosewhohavefailedtogetaman.DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessoldmaidenhood.
ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.
Ay,therelaythesting.
Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.
Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.
She
durfde
darednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.Shewasafraidthat
huilen
cryingmightbringonanotheraanval
attackofthatpainaroundtheheart.Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—rather
erger
worsethananyshehadhadyet.Andshewasafraidhermotherwould
opmerken
noticeherredeyesatontbijt
breakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancywithaghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘Iam
huil
cryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorial
stem
voiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehada
gevoel
senseofhumournobodyinherclansuspected.Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasverysuperficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,futilelittle
figuur
figure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-painted
vloer
floor,withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,withagrotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;thefaded,dark-red
papier
paper;theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;
thebrown-paperlambrequinwithpurplerosesonit;
thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;
thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythicalhoneymoon;
theshell-covered
doos
box,withoneburstcorner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theonestiff,yellowchair;
thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtheroomsbelow.
Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofapuppysittingonarainydoorstep.
That
foto
picturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedriving
regen
rain!Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theother
foto
picturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofKoningin
QueenLouisecomingdownastairway,whichTante
AuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertenthverjaardag
birthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfied
Koningin
QueenLouise.Butshenever
durfde
dareddestroyitorremoveit.Motherand
Neef
CousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.Everyroominthehousewas
lelijk
ugly,ofcourse.Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.
ButhermotherhadnegativedeverytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.
Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsultedduchess.
TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnightto
huilen
cryifshewantedto.But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepingand
kleden
dressingin,wereugly?Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingand
Neef
CousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinisterpurpose.Butherroominthe
Blauwe
BlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgo
nogal
rathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.NobodyintheStirlingclan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherand
Neef
CousinStickles.TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrick
doos
boxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlauwe
BlueCastleinSpain.Valancyhadlivedspirituallyinthe
Blauwe
BlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,
blauwe
blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofafairandunknownland
land.Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthave
gedragen
worn;robesofmoonlightandfire;
couchesofrosesand
goud
gold;longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;
courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,for
wiens
whoseglancemendied.Allthatsupportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.
Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedofhorroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinher
Blauwe
BlueCastle.Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardourofthe
tijdperk
ageofchivalryandwonherafterlongdevotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapeloftheBlauwe
BlueCastle.Attwelve,thisloverwasafairladwithgoldencurlsandheavenly
blauwe
blueeyes.Atfifteen,hewastalland
donker
darkandpale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,spiritual.
Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,andaface
sterk
strongandruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinher
Blauwe
BlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herheld
herohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedglimlach
smileandamysteriouspast.Idon’tsayValancydeliberately
vermoordde
murderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.One
gewoon
simplyfadedawayasanothercame.Thingsareveryconvenientinthis
opzicht
respectinBlueCastles.But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,Valancycouldnotfindthe
sleutel
keyofherBlueCastle.Reality
drukte
pressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsomeclan,withnopastandno
toekomst
future.Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonorpurple
vlek
spotanywhere.Asfarasshecouldlook
naar voren
forwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.Themomentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,
plicht
duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdeath.“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewas
blij
gladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasregende
raining.Therewouldbenopicnicthatday.
Thisannualpicnic,whereby
Tante
AuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirengagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasher
verjaardag
birthdayand,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.
There
leek
seemedtobenothingoftherevolutionaryinheraard
nature.Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”
andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.
Tante
AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffonjurk
dressandCecil’slastdevotedbrief
letter.Valancywouldhavetolookaspleasedand
geïnteresseerd
interestedasifthedressandbrief
letterhadbeenhersorelseTante
AuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.AndValancyhadlongago
besloten
decidedthatshewouldratheroffendGodthanTante
AuntWellington,becauseGodmightvergeven
forgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.Tante
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablehabitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatschoonheid
beautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowhuid
skin—.“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmy
huid
skinwasrosesandcream.IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”
Andtheneverybodywould
lachte
laughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbut
respecteerde
respectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“Iveronderstel
supposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“Whatisthe
verschil
differencebetweenDossandamouse?“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancyhadheardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedto
gooien
throwsomethingathim.Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlings
gewoon
simplydidnotthrowthings;inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasawealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthe
angst
fearandadmonitionofhismoney.Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.
ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.
Sosheenduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.
Tante
AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind
wind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthow,forTante
AuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.Tante
AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelastpicnicand
afvragen
wonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,
Tante
AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.Forthesamereason,
Neef
CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,volgens
accordingtothestrictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldshowoffher
schoonheid
beautyandpresumeonherpopularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Therewouldbe
niets
noneofallthistoday.Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyand
Neef
CousinStickles.Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfrom
Tante
AuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
Its
geest
ghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedthe
regen
rainthathadsavedherfromit.Therewouldbenopicnicthisyear.
If
Tante
AuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthesacreddayitselfshewouldhavenocelebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbenopicnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,ifthe
regen
rainheldupinthemiddag
afternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”
SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevidentthatshe
genoot
enjoyedthemtoomuch.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwasenjoyablewas
gevaarlijk
dangerous.Valancydidnotknowwhetherhermindwasbeingimprovedornot;
butshefeltvaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.
They
leken
seemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernow.ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthelibrariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.
“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomore
informatie
informationcanbehad.Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
QuitelikelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemtoraveover.”
“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarkson
glimlachte
smiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.ButcertainlyFoster
lijkt
seemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”Valancydidn’tknow
of
whethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeof
wilde
wildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehintofagreat
geheim
secretjustalittlefurtheron—somefaint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagie
magicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
Itwasa
maand
monthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueer
pijn
painaroundtheheart.Ithadcomerather
vaak
oftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofanoccasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
Geen
NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecond
Neef
CousinAdelaideStirling.ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.
And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.
Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”
Tante
AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasa
persoonlijke
personalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;
andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;
andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”
Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.
Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatall
ernstig
seriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshenoemde
mentionedit.ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhisbill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthe
bank
bankforherthedayshewasgeboren
born.Shewasneverallowedtouseeventhe
rente
interestofthis,butshewouldsecretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.
Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretiresoon.
Niemand
NoneoftheStirlingclanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglican
kerk
church.CHAPTERII
WhenCousinStickles
klopte
knockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastzeven
sevenandshemustgetup.Aslongasshecouldremember,
Neef
CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastzeven
seven.CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsince
zeven
seven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.