Chapter1
ItbeganinaWoman’s
Club
ClubinLondononaFebruaryafternoon—anuncomfortableclub
club,andamiserableafternoon—whenMrs.Wilkins,whohadcomedownfromHampsteadtoshopandhadlunchedatherclub
club,tookupTheTimesfromthetable
tableinthesmoking-room,andrunningherlistlessœil
eyedowntheAgonyColumnsawthis:.ToThosewho
Apprécient
AppreciateWistariaandSunshine.SmallmediaevalItalianCastleontheshoresoftheMediterraneantobeLetFurnishedforthe
mois
monthofApril.Necessaryservantsremain.
Z,Box1000,TheTimes.
Thatwasitsconception;
yet,asinthecaseofmanyanother,theconceiverwasunawareofitatthemoment.
SoentirelyunawarewasMrs.WilkinsthatherAprilforthatyearhadthenandtherebeensettledforherthatshe
tomber
droppedthenewspaperwithagesturethatwasbothirritatedandresigned,andwentovertothefenêtre
windowandstareddrearilyoutatthedrippingstreet.Notforherweremediaevalcastles,eventhosethatarespeciallydescribedassmall.
NotforhertheshoresinApriloftheMediterranean,andthewistariaandsunshine.
Suchdelightswereonlyforthe
riches
rich.Yettheadvertisementhadbeenaddressedtopersonswhoappreciatethesethings,sothatithadbeen,anyhow,addressedtootoher,forshe
certainement
certainlyappreciatedthem;morethananybodyknew;
morethanshehadevertold.
Butshewaspoor.
Inthewholeworldshepossessedofherveryownonlyninetypounds,savedfromyeartoyear,putbycarefullypoundbypound,outofherdressallowance.
Shehadscrapedthissumtogetheratthesuggestionofherhusbandasashieldandrefugeagainstarainyday.
Her
robe
dressallowance,givenherbyherfather,was£100ayear,sothatMrs.Wilkins’svêtements
clotheswerewhatherhusband,urginghertosave,calledmodestandbecoming,andheracquaintancetoeachother,whentheyspokeofheratall,whichwasseldomforshewasverynegligible,calledaperfectsight.Mr.
Wilkins,asolicitor,encouragedthrift,exceptthatbranchofitwhichgotintohisfood.
Hedidnotcallthatthrift,hecalleditbadhousekeeping.
Butforthethriftwhich,likemoth,penetratedintoMrs.Wilkins’s
vêtements
clothesandspoiltthem,hehadmuchpraise.“Youneverknow,”hesaid,“whentherewillbearainyday,andyoumaybevery
heureux
gladtofindyouhaveanest-egg.Indeedwebothmay.”
Lookingoutofthe
club
clubwindowintoShaftesburyAvenue—herswasaneconomicalclub
club,butconvenientforHampstead,whereshelived,andforShoolbred’s,wheresheshopped—Mrs.Wilkins,havingstoodtheresometimeverydrearily,hermind’s
œil
eyeontheMediterraneaninApril,andthewistaria,andtheenviableopportunitiesoftheriches
rich,whileherbodilyeyewatchedthereallyextremelyhorriblesootypluie
rainfallingsteadilyonthehurryingumbrellasandsplashingomnibuses,soudain
suddenlywonderedwhetherperhapsthiswasnottherainydayMellersh—MellershwasMr.Wilkins—hadsooftenencouragedhertopreparefor,andsi
whethertogetoutofsuchaclimateandintothesmallmediaevalcastlewasn’tperhapswhatProvidencehadallalongintendedhertodowithhersavings.Partofhersavings,ofcourse;
perhapsquiteasmallpart.
Thecastle,beingmediaeval,mightalsobedilapidated,anddilapidationsweresurelycheap.
Shewouldn’tintheleastmindafewofthem,becauseyoudidn’tpayfordilapidationswhichwerealreadythere;
onthecontrary—byreducingthe
prix
priceyouhadtopaytheyreallypaidyou.Butwhatnonsensetothinkofit...
Sheturnedawayfromthe
fenêtre
windowwiththesamegestureofmingledirritationandresignationwithwhichshehadlaiddownTheTimes,andtraversa
crossedtheroomtowardsthedoorwiththeintentionofgettinghermackintoshandumbrellaandfightingherwayintooneoftheovercrowdedomnibusesandgoingtoShoolbred’sonherwayhomeandbuyingsomesolesforMellersh’sdinner—Mellershwasdifficultwithfishandlikedonlysoles,exceptsalmon—whenshebeheldMrs.Arbuthnot,awomansheknewbysightasalsolivinginHampsteadandbelongingtotheclub,sittingatthetableinthemiddleoftheroomonwhichthenewspapersandmagazineswerekept,absorbed,inherturn,inthefirstpageofTheTimes.Mrs.
WilkinshadneveryetspokentoMrs.Arbuthnot,whobelongedtooneofthevariouschurchsets,andwhoanalysed,classified,dividedandregisteredthepoor;
whereassheandMellersh,whentheydidgoout,wenttothepartiesofimpressionistpainters,ofwhominHampsteadthereweremany.
MellershhadasisterwhohadmarriedoneofthemandlivedupontheHeath,andbecauseofthisallianceMrs.Wilkinswasdrawnintoacirclewhichwashighlyunnaturaltoher,andshehad
appris
learnedtodreadpictures.Shehadtosaythingsaboutthem,andshedidn’tknowwhattosay.
Sheusedtomurmur,“Marvellous,”andfeelthatitwasnotenough.
Butnobodyminded.
Nobodylistened.
NobodytookanynoticeofMrs.Wilkins.
Shewasthekindofpersonwhoisnotnoticedatparties.
Her
vêtements
clothes,infestedbythrift,madeherpracticallyinvisible;herfacewasnon-arresting;
herconversationwasreluctant;
shewasshy.
Andifone’s
vêtements
clothesandfaceandconversationareallnegligible,thoughtMrs.Wilkins,whorecognisedherdisabilities,what,atparties,isthereleftofone?AlsoshewasalwayswithWilkins,thatclean-shaven,fine-lookingman,whogaveaparty,merelybycomingtoit,agreatair.
Wilkinswasveryrespectable.
Hewasknowntobehighlythoughtofbyhisseniorpartners.
Hissister’scircleadmiredhim.
Hepronouncedadequatelyintelligentjudgmentsonartandartists.
Hewaspithy;
hewasprudent;
heneversaidawordtoomuch,
ni
nor,ontheotherhand,didheeversayawordtoolittle.Heproducedtheimpressionofkeepingcopiesofeverythinghesaid;
andhewasso
évidemment
obviouslyreliablethatitoftenhappenedthatpeoplewhomethimatthesepartiesbecamediscontentedwiththeirownsolicitors,andafteraperiodofrestlessnessextricatedthemselvesandwenttoWilkins.NaturallyMrs.Wilkinswasblottedout.
“She,”saidhissister,withsomethingherselfofthejudicial,thedigested,andthe
final
finalinhermanner,“shouldstayathome.”ButWilkinscouldnotleavehiswifeathome.
Hewasafamilysolicitor,andallsuchhavewivesandshowthem.
Withhisintheweekhewenttoparties,andwithhisonSundayshewenttochurch.
Beingstillfairlyyoung—hewasthirty-nine—andambitiousofoldladies,ofwhomhehadnotyetacquiredinhis
pratique
practiceasufficientnumber,hecouldnotaffordtomisschurch,anditwastherethatMrs.Wilkinsbecamefamiliar,thoughneverthroughwords,withMrs.Arbuthnot.Shesawhermarshallingthechildrenofthepoorintopews.
ShewouldcomeinattheheadoftheprocessionfromtheSundaySchoolexactlyfiveminutesbeforethechoir,andgetherboysandgirlsneatlyfittedintotheirallottedseats,anddownontheirlittlekneesintheirpreliminaryprayer,andupagainontheir
pieds
feetjustas,totheswellingorgan,thevestrydooropened,andthechoirandclergy,bigwiththelitaniesandcommandmentstheywerepresentlytorollout,emerged.Shehada
triste
sadface,yetshewasevidentlyefficient.ThecombinationusedtomakeMrs.Wilkins
se demander
wonder,forshehadbeentoldbyMellersh,ondayswhenshehadonlybeenabletogetplaice,thatifonewereefficientonewouldn’tbedepressed,andthatifonedoesone’sjobwellonebecomesautomaticallybrightandbrisk.AboutMrs.Arbuthnottherewasnothingbrightandbrisk,thoughmuchinherwaywiththeSundaySchoolchildrenthatwasautomatic;
butwhenMrs.Wilkins,turningfromthe
fenêtre
window,caughtsightofherintheclub
clubshewasnotbeingautomaticatall,butwaslookingfixedlyatoneportionofthefirstpageofTheTimes,holdingthejournal
paperquitestill,hereyesnotmoving.Shewasjuststaring;
andherface,asusual,wasthefaceofapatientanddisappointedMadonna.
Obeyinganimpulseshewonderedatevenwhileobeyingit,Mrs.Wilkins,theshyandthereluctant,insteadofproceedingasshehadintendedtothecloakroomandfromthencetoSchoolbred’sin
recherche
searchofMellersh’sfish,stoppedatthetable
tableandsatdownexactlyoppositeMrs.Arbuthnot,towhomshehadneveryetspokeninherlife.Itwasoneofthoselong,narrowrefectorytables,sothattheywerequiteclosetoeachother.
Mrs.
Arbuthnot,
cependant
however,didnotlookup.She
continué
continuedtogaze,witheyesthatsemblaient
seemedtobedreaming,atoneendroit
spotonlyofTheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkinswatchedheraminute,tryingtoscrewupcouragetospeaktoher.
Shewantedtoaskherifshehadseentheadvertisement.
Shedidnotknowwhyshewantedtoaskherthis,butshewantedto.
Howstupidnottobeabletospeaktoher.
Shelookedsokind.
Shelookedsounhappy.
Whycouldn’ttwounhappypeoplerefresheachotherontheirwaythroughthisdustybusinessoflifebyalittletalk—real,naturaltalk,aboutwhattheyfelt,whattheywouldhaveliked,whattheystilltriedtohope?
AndshecouldnothelpthinkingthatMrs.Arbuthnot,too,wasreadingthatverysameadvertisement.
Hereyeswereontheverypartofthe
papier
paper.Wasshe,too,picturingwhatitwouldbelike—thecolour,thefragrance,thelight,thesoftlappingofthe
mer
seaamonglittlehotrocks?Colour,fragrance,light,
mer
sea;insteadofShaftesburyAvenue,andthewetomnibuses,andthe
poisson
fishdepartmentatShoolbred’s,andtheTubetoHampstead,anddinner,andto-morrowthesameandthedayafterthesameandalwaysthesame...Soudain
SuddenlyMrs.Wilkinsfoundherselfleaningsur
acrossthetable.“Areyoureadingaboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria?”
sheheardherselfasking.
NaturallyMrs.Arbuthnotwas
surpris
surprised;butshewasnothalfsomuch
surpris
surprisedasMrs.Wilkinswasatherselfforasking.Mrs.
Arbuthnothadnotyettoherknowledgeseteyesontheshabby,lank,loosely-put-together
figure
figuresittingoppositeher,withitssmallfreckledfaceandbiggreyeyesalmostdisappearingunderasmashed-downwet-weatherhat,andshegazedatheramomentwithoutanswering.Shewasreadingaboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria,or
plutôt
ratherhadreadaboutittenminutesbefore,andsincethenhadbeenlostindreams—oflight,ofcolour,offragrance,ofthesoftlappingofthemer
seaamonglittlehotrocks...“Whydoyouaskmethat?”
shesaidinhergrave
voix
voice,forhertrainingofandbythepoorhadmadehergraveandpatient.Mrs.
Wilkinsflushedandlookedexcessivelyshyandfrightened.
“Oh,onlybecauseIsawittoo,andIthoughtperhaps—Ithoughtsomehow—”
shestammered.
WhereuponMrs.Arbuthnot,hermindbeingusedtogettingpeopleintolistsanddivisions,fromhabitconsidered,asshegazedthoughtfullyatMrs.Wilkins,underwhatheading,
supposant
supposingshehadtoclassifyher,shecouldmostproperlybeput.“AndIknowyoubysight,”wentonMrs.Wilkins,who,likealltheshy,onceshewasstartedplungedon,frighteningherselftomoreandmorespeechbythesheersoundofwhatshehadsaidlastinherears.
“EverySunday—IseeyoueverySundayinchurch—”.
“Inchurch?”
echoedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Andthis
semble
seemssuchawonderfulthing—thisadvertisementaboutthewistaria—and—”.Mrs.
Wilkins,whomusthavebeenatleastthirty,brokeoffandwriggledinherchairwiththemovementofanawkwardandembarrassedschoolgirl.
“It
semble
seemssowonderful,”shewentoninakindofburst,“and—itissuchamiserableday...”AndthenshesatlookingatMrs.Arbuthnotwiththeeyesofanimprisoneddog.
“Thispoorthing,”thoughtMrs.Arbuthnot,whoselifewas
passée
spentinhelpingandalleviating,“needsadvice.”Sheaccordinglypreparedherselfpatientlytogiveit.
“Ifyouseemeinchurch,”shesaid,kindlyandattentively,“I
suppose
supposeyouliveinHampsteadtoo?”“Ohyes,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
Andsherepeated,herheadonitslongthin
cou
neckdroopingalittleasiftherecollectionofHampsteadbowedher,“Ohyes.”“Where?”
askedMrs.Arbuthnot,who,whenadvicewasneeded,naturallyfirstproceededtocollectthefacts.
ButMrs.Wilkins,
posant
layingherhandsoftlyandcaressinglyonthepartofTheTimeswheretheadvertisementwas,asthoughthemereprintedwordsofitwereprecious,onlysaid,“Perhapsthat’swhythissemble
seemssowonderful.”“No—Ithinkthat’s
merveilleux
wonderfulanyhow,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,forgettingfactsandfaintlysighing.“Thenyouwerereadingit?”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,hereyesgoingdreamyagain.
“Wouldn’titbewonderful?”
murmuredMrs.Wilkins.
“Wonderful,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot.
Herface,whichhadlitup,fadedintopatienceagain.
“Verywonderful,”shesaid.
“Butit’snouse
perdre
wastingone’stimethinkingofsuchthings.”“Oh,butitis,”wasMrs.Wilkins’s
rapide
quick,surprisingreply;surprisingbecauseitwassomuchunliketherestofher—thecharacterlesscoatandskirt,thecrumpledhat,theundecidedwispofhairstragglingout.
“Andjusttheconsideringofthemis
vaut
worthwhileinitself—suchachangefromHampstead—andsometimesIbelieve—Ireallydobelieve—ifoneconsidershardenoughonegetsthings.”Mrs.
Arbuthnotobservedherpatiently.
Inwhatcategorywouldshe,supposingshehadto,puther?
“Perhaps,”shesaid,leaningforwardalittle,“youwilltellmeyourname.
Ifwearetobefriends”—shesmiledhergravesmile—“asIhopeweare,wehadbetter
commencer
beginatthebeginning.”“Ohyes—howkindofyou.
I’mMrs.Wilkins,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
“Idon’texpect,”sheadded,flushing,asMrs.Arbuthnotsaidnothing,“thatitconveysanythingtoyou.
Sometimesit—itdoesn’t
semble
seemtoconveyanythingtomeeither.But”—shelookedroundwithamovementofseekinghelp—“IamMrs.Wilkins.”
Shedidnotlikehername.
Itwasamean,smallname,withakindoffacetioustwist,shethought,aboutitsendliketheupwardcurveofapugdog’stail.
Thereitwas,
cependant
however.Therewasnodoinganythingwithit.
WilkinsshewasandWilkinsshewouldremain;
andthoughherhusbandencouragedhertogiveitonalloccasionsasMrs.Mellersh-Wilkinssheonlydidthatwhenhewaswithinearshot,forshethoughtMellershmadeWilkins
pire
worse,emphasisingitinthewayChatsworthonthegate-postsofavillaemphasisesthevilla.WhenfirsthesuggestedsheshouldaddMellershshehadobjectedforthe
ci-dessus
abovereason,andafterapause—Mellershwasmuchtooprudenttospeaksauf
exceptafterapause,duringwhichpresumablyhewastakingacarefulmentalcopyofhiscomingobservation—hesaid,muchdispleased,“ButIamnotavilla,”andlookedatherashelookswhohopes,forperhapsthehundredthtime,thathemaynothavemarriedafool.Ofcoursehewasnotavilla,Mrs.Wilkinsassuredhim;
shehadnever
supposé
supposedhewas;shehadnotdreamedofmeaning...
shewasonlyjustthinking...
Themoreshe
expliquait
explainedthemoreearnestbecameMellersh’shope,familiartohimbythistime,forhehadthenbeenahusbandfortwoyears,thathemightnotbyanychancehavemarriedafool;andtheyhadaprolongedquarrel,ifthatcanbecalledaquarrelwhichisconductedwithdignifiedsilenceononesideandearnestapologyontheother,astowhetherornoMrs.WilkinshadintendedtosuggestthatMr.Wilkinswasavilla.
“Ibelieve,”shehadthoughtwhenitwasatlastover—ittookalongwhile—“thatanybodywouldquarrelaboutanythingwhenthey’venotleftoffbeingtogetherfora
seul
singledayfortwowholeyears.Whatwebothneedisaholiday.”
“Myhusband,”wentonMrs.WilkinstoMrs.Arbuthnot,tryingto
jeter
throwsomelightonherself,“isasolicitor.He—”
ShecastaboutforsomethingshecouldsayelucidatoryofMellersh,andfound:
“He’sveryhandsome.”
“Well,”saidMrs.Arbuthnotkindly,“thatmustbeagreat
plaisir
pleasuretoyou.”“Why?”
askedMrs.Wilkins.
“Because,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,alittletakenaback,forconstantintercoursewiththepoorhadaccustomedhertohaveherpronouncementsacceptedwithoutquestion,“becausebeauty—handsomeness—isa
don
giftlikeanyother,andifitisproperlyused—”.Shetrailedoffintosilence.
Mrs.Wilkins’sgreatgreyeyeswerefixedonher,andit
sembla
seemedsuddenlytoMrs.Arbuthnotthatperhapsshewasbecomingcrystallisedintoahabitofexposition,andofexpositionafterthemannerofnursemaids,throughhavinganaudiencethatcouldn’tbutagree,thatwouldbeafraid,ifitwished,tointerrupt,thatdidn’tknow,thatwas,infact,athermercy.ButMrs.Wilkinswasnotlistening;
forjustthen,absurdasit
semblait
seemed,apicturehadflashedtravers
acrossherbrain,andthereweretwofiguresinitsittingtogetherunderagreattrailingwistariathatstretchedtravers
acrossthebranchesofaarbre
treeshedidn’tknow,anditwasherselfandMrs.Arbuthnot—shesawthem—shesawthem.Andbehindthem,brightinsunshine,wereoldgreywalls—themediaevalcastle—shesawit—theywerethere...
ShethereforestaredatMrs.Arbuthnotanddidnothearawordshesaid.
AndMrs.ArbuthnotstaredtooatMrs.Wilkins,arrestedbytheexpressiononherface,whichwassweptbytheexcitementofwhatshesaw,andwasasluminousandtremulousunderitaswaterinsunlightwhenitisruffledbyagustof
vent
wind.Atthismoment,ifshehadbeenataparty,Mrs.Wilkinswouldhavebeenlookedatwith
intérêt
interest.Theystaredateachother;
Mrs.Arbuthnot
surpris
surprised,inquiringly,Mrs.Wilkinswiththeeyesofsomeonewhohashadarevelation.Ofcourse.
Thatwashowitcouldbedone.
Sheherself,shebyherself,couldn’taffordit,andwouldn’tbeable,evenifshecouldaffordit,togothereallalone;
butsheandMrs.Arbuthnottogether...
Sheleaned
sur
acrossthetable.“Whydon’twetryandgetit?”
shewhispered.
Mrs.
Arbuthnotbecameevenmorewide-eyed.
“Getit?”
sherepeated.
“Yes,”saidMrs.Wilkins,stillasthoughshewereafraidofbeingoverheard.
“NotjustsithereandsayHow
merveilleux
wonderful,andthengohometoHampsteadwithouthavingputoutafinger—gohomejustasusualandseeaboutthedinnerandthepoisson
fishjustaswe’vebeendoingforyearsandyearsandwillgoondoingforyearsandyears.Infact,”saidMrs.Wilkins,flushingtotherootsofherhair,forthesoundofwhatshewassaying,ofwhatwascomingpouringout,frightenedher,andyetshecouldn’tstop,“Iseenoendtoit.
Thereisnoendtoit.
Sothatthereoughttobeabreak,thereoughttobeintervals—ineverybody’sinterests.
Why,itwouldreallybebeingunselfishtogoawayandbehappyforalittle,becausewewouldcomebacksomuchnicer.
Yousee,afterabiteverybodyneedsaholiday.”
“But—howdoyoumean,getit?”
askedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Takeit,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
“Takeit?”