Chapter1
ItbeganinaWoman’sClubinLondononaFebruaryafternoon—anuncomfortableclub,anda
misérable
miserableafternoon—whenMrs.Wilkins,whohadcomedownfromHampsteadtoshopandhadlunchedatherclub,tookupTheTimesfromthetableinthesmoking-room,andrunningherlistlesseyedowntheAgonyColumnsawthis:.ToThosewhoAppreciateWistariaandSunshine.
SmallmediaevalItalian
Château
CastleontheshoresoftheMediterraneantobeLetFurnishedforthemonthofApril.Necessaryservants
restent
remain.Z,Box1000,TheTimes.
Thatwasitsconception;
yet,asinthecaseofmanyanother,theconceiverwasunawareofitatthemoment.
SoentirelyunawarewasMrs.WilkinsthatherAprilforthatyearhadthenandtherebeensettledforherthatshedroppedthe
journal
newspaperwithagesturethatwasbothirritatedandresigned,andwentovertothewindowandstareddrearilyoutatthedrippingstreet.Notforherweremediaevalcastles,eventhosethatarespeciallydescribedassmall.
Notforhertheshoresin
Avril
ApriloftheMediterranean,andthewistariaandsunshine.Suchdelightswereonlyfortherich.
Yettheadvertisementhadbeenaddressedtopersonswhoappreciatethesethings,sothatithadbeen,anyhow,addressedtootoher,forshecertainlyappreciatedthem;
morethananybodyknew;
morethanshehadevertold.
Butshewaspoor.
Inthewholeworldshepossessedofherveryownonlyninetypounds,savedfromyeartoyear,putby
soigneusement
carefullypoundbypound,outofherdressallowance.Shehadscrapedthissumtogetheratthesuggestionofherhusbandasashieldandrefugeagainstarainyday.
Herdressallowance,givenherbyherfather,was£100ayear,sothatMrs.Wilkins’sclotheswerewhatherhusband,urginghertosave,calledmodestandbecoming,andheracquaintancetoeachother,whentheyspokeofheratall,whichwasseldomforshewasverynegligible,calledaperfect
vue
sight.Mr.
Wilkins,asolicitor,encouragedthrift,exceptthatbranchofitwhichgotintohisfood.
Hedidnotcallthatthrift,hecalleditbadhousekeeping.
Butforthethriftwhich,likemoth,penetratedintoMrs.Wilkins’sclothesandspoiltthem,hehadmuchpraise.
“Youneverknow,”hesaid,“whentherewillbearainyday,andyoumaybeverygladtofindyouhaveanest-egg.
En effet
Indeedwebothmay.”LookingoutoftheclubwindowintoShaftesburyAvenue—herswasaneconomicalclub,butconvenientforHampstead,whereshelived,andforShoolbred’s,wheresheshopped—Mrs.
Wilkins,havingstoodtheresometimeverydrearily,hermind’seyeontheMediterraneanin
Avril
April,andthewistaria,andtheenviableopportunitiesoftherich,whileherbodilyeyewatchedthereallyextrêmement
extremelyhorriblesootyrainfallingsteadilyonthehurryingumbrellasandsplashingomnibuses,suddenlywonderedwhetherperhapsthiswasnottherainydayMellersh—MellershwasMr.Wilkins—hadsooftenencouragedhertopreparefor,andwhethertogetoutofsuchaclimateandintothesmallmediaevalcastlewasn’tperhapswhatProvidencehadallalongintendedhertodowithhersavings.Partofhersavings,ofcourse;
perhapsquiteasmallpart.
The
château
castle,beingmediaeval,mightalsobedilapidated,anddilapidationsweresûrement
surelycheap.Shewouldn’tintheleastmindafewofthem,becauseyoudidn’tpayfordilapidationswhichwerealreadythere;
onthecontrary—byreducingthepriceyouhadtopaytheyreallypaidyou.
Butwhatnonsensetothinkofit...
SheturnedawayfromthewindowwiththesamegestureofmingledirritationandresignationwithwhichshehadlaiddownTheTimes,andcrossedtheroom
vers
towardsthedoorwiththeintentionofgettinghermackintoshandumbrellaandfightingherwayintooneoftheovercrowdedomnibusesandgoingtoShoolbred’sonherwayhomeandbuyingsomesolesforMellersh’sdinner—Mellershwasdifficultwithfishandlikedonlysoles,exceptsalmon—whenshebeheldMrs.Arbuthnot,awomansheknewbysightasalsolivinginHampsteadandbelongingtotheclub,sittingatthetableinthemiddleoftheroomonwhichthenewspapersandmagazineswerekept,absorbed,inherturn,inthefirstpageofTheTimes.Mrs.
WilkinshadneveryetspokentoMrs.Arbuthnot,who
appartenait
belongedtooneofthevariouschurchsets,andwhoanalysed,classified,dividedandregisteredthepoor;whereassheandMellersh,whentheydidgoout,wenttothepartiesofimpressionistpainters,ofwhominHampsteadthereweremany.
MellershhadasisterwhohadmarriedoneofthemandlivedupontheHeath,andbecauseofthisallianceMrs.Wilkinswasdrawnintoa
cercle
circlewhichwashighlyunnaturaltoher,andshehadlearnedtodreadpictures.Shehadtosaythingsaboutthem,andshedidn’tknowwhattosay.
Sheusedtomurmur,“Marvellous,”andfeelthatitwasnotenough.
Butnobodyminded.
Nobodylistened.
NobodytookanynoticeofMrs.Wilkins.
Shewasthekindofpersonwhoisnotnoticedatparties.
Herclothes,infestedbythrift,madeherpracticallyinvisible;
herfacewasnon-arresting;
her
conversation
conversationwasreluctant;shewas
timide
shy.Andifone’sclothesandfaceand
conversation
conversationareallnegligible,thoughtMrs.Wilkins,whorecognisedherdisabilities,what,atparties,isthereleftofone?AlsoshewasalwayswithWilkins,thatclean-shaven,fine-lookingman,whogaveaparty,merelybycomingtoit,agreatair.
Wilkinswasveryrespectable.
Hewasknowntobehighlythoughtofbyhisseniorpartners.
Hissister’s
cercle
circleadmiredhim.Hepronouncedadequatelyintelligentjudgmentsonartandartists.
Hewaspithy;
hewasprudent;
heneversaidawordtoomuch,nor,ontheotherhand,didheeversayawordtoolittle.
Heproducedtheimpressionofkeepingcopiesofeverythinghesaid;
andhewassoobviouslyreliablethatitoftenhappenedthatpeoplewhomethimatthesepartiesbecamediscontentedwiththeirownsolicitors,andaftera
période
periodofrestlessnessextricatedthemselvesandwenttoWilkins.NaturallyMrs.Wilkinswasblottedout.
“She,”saidhissister,withsomethingherselfofthejudicial,thedigested,andthefinalinhermanner,“shouldstayathome.”
ButWilkinscouldnotleavehiswifeathome.
Hewasafamilysolicitor,andallsuchhavewivesandshowthem.
Withhisintheweekhewenttoparties,andwithhisonSundayshewenttochurch.
Beingstillfairlyyoung—hewasthirty-nine—andambitiousofoldladies,ofwhomhehadnotyetacquiredinhispracticeasufficientnumber,hecouldnot
permettre
affordtomisschurch,anditwastherethatMrs.Wilkinsbecamefamiliar,thoughneverthroughwords,withMrs.Arbuthnot.Shesawhermarshallingthechildrenofthepoorintopews.
Shewouldcomeinattheheadoftheprocessionfromthe
Dimanche
SundaySchoolexactlyfiveminutesbeforethechoir,andgetherboysandgirlsneatlyfittedintotheirallottedseats,anddownontheirlittlekneesintheirpreliminaryprayer,andupagainontheirfeetjustas,totheswellingorgan,thevestrydooropened,andthechoirandclergy,bigwiththelitaniesandcommandmentstheywerepresentlytorollout,emerged.Shehadasadface,yetshewasevidentlyefficient.
ThecombinationusedtomakeMrs.Wilkinswonder,forshehadbeentoldbyMellersh,ondayswhenshehadonlybeenabletogetplaice,thatifonewereefficientonewouldn’tbedepressed,andthatifonedoesone’sjobwellonebecomesautomatically
lumineux
brightandbrisk.AboutMrs.Arbuthnottherewasnothing
brillant
brightandbrisk,thoughmuchinherwaywiththeDimanche
SundaySchoolchildrenthatwasautomatic;butwhenMrs.Wilkins,turningfromthewindow,caughtsightofherintheclubshewasnotbeingautomaticatall,butwaslookingfixedlyatoneportionofthefirst
page
pageofTheTimes,holdingthepaperquitestill,hereyesnotmoving.Shewasjuststaring;
andherface,asusual,wasthefaceofapatientanddisappointedMadonna.
Obeyinganimpulseshewonderedatevenwhileobeyingit,Mrs.Wilkins,the
timide
shyandthereluctant,insteadofproceedingasshehadintendedtothecloakroomandfromthencetoSchoolbred’sinsearchofMellersh’sfish,stoppedatthetableandsatdownexactlyoppositeMrs.Arbuthnot,towhomshehadneveryetspokeninherlife.Itwasoneofthoselong,narrowrefectorytables,sothattheywerequiteclosetoeachother.
Mrs.
Arbuthnot,however,didnotlookup.
Shecontinuedtogaze,witheyesthatseemedtobedreaming,atonespotonlyofTheTimes.
Mrs.
Wilkinswatchedheraminute,tryingtoscrewup
courage
couragetospeaktoher.Shewantedtoaskherifshehadseentheadvertisement.
Shedidnotknowwhyshewantedtoaskherthis,butshewantedto.
Howstupidnottobeabletospeaktoher.
Shelookedsokind.
Shelookedsounhappy.
Whycouldn’ttwounhappypeoplerefresheachotherontheirwaythroughthisdustybusinessoflifebyalittletalk—real,naturaltalk,aboutwhattheyfelt,whattheywouldhaveliked,whattheystilltriedtohope?
AndshecouldnothelpthinkingthatMrs.Arbuthnot,too,wasreadingthatverysameadvertisement.
Hereyeswereontheverypartofthepaper.
Wasshe,too,picturingwhatitwouldbelike—thecolour,thefragrance,thelight,the
doux
softlappingoftheseaparmi
amonglittlehotrocks?Colour,fragrance,light,sea;
insteadofShaftesburyAvenue,andthewetomnibuses,andthefishdepartmentatShoolbred’s,andtheTubetoHampstead,anddinner,andto-morrowthesameandthedayafterthesameandalwaysthesame...
SuddenlyMrs.Wilkinsfoundherselfleaningacrossthetable.
“Areyoureadingaboutthemediaeval
château
castleandthewistaria?”sheheardherselfasking.
NaturallyMrs.Arbuthnotwassurprised;
butshewasnothalfsomuchsurprisedasMrs.Wilkinswasatherselfforasking.
Mrs.
Arbuthnothadnotyettoher
connaissance
knowledgeseteyesontheshabby,lank,loosely-put-togetherfiguresittingoppositeher,withitssmallfreckledfaceandbiggreyeyesalmostdisparaissant
disappearingunderasmashed-downwet-weatherchapeau
hat,andshegazedatheramomentwithoutanswering.Shewasreadingaboutthemediaeval
château
castleandthewistaria,orratherhadreadaboutittenminutesbefore,andsincethenhadbeenlostindreams—oflight,ofcolour,offragrance,ofthedoux
softlappingoftheseaparmi
amonglittlehotrocks...“Whydoyouaskmethat?”
shesaidinher
grave
gravevoice,forhertrainingofandbythepoorhadmadehergrave
graveandpatient.Mrs.
Wilkinsflushedandlookedexcessively
timide
shyandfrightened.“Oh,onlybecauseIsawittoo,andIthoughtperhaps—Ithoughtsomehow—”
shestammered.
WhereuponMrs.Arbuthnot,hermindbeingusedtogettingpeopleintolistsanddivisions,fromhabit
considéra
considered,asshegazedthoughtfullyatMrs.Wilkins,underwhatheading,supposingshehadtoclassifyher,shecouldmostcorrectement
properlybeput.“AndIknowyoubysight,”wentonMrs.Wilkins,who,likealltheshy,onceshewasstartedplungedon,frighteningherselftomoreandmore
parole
speechbythesheersoundofwhatshehadsaidlastinherears.“EverySunday—IseeyoueverySundayinchurch—”.
“Inchurch?”
echoedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Andthisseemssuchawonderfulthing—thisadvertisementaboutthewistaria—and—”.
Mrs.
Wilkins,whomusthavebeenatleastthirty,brokeoffandwriggledinher
chaise
chairwiththemovementofanawkwardandembarrassedschoolgirl.“Itseemssowonderful,”shewentoninakindofburst,“and—itissucha
misérable
miserableday...”AndthenshesatlookingatMrs.Arbuthnotwiththeeyesofanimprisoneddog.
“Thispoorthing,”thoughtMrs.Arbuthnot,whoselifewasspentinhelpingandalleviating,“needsadvice.”
Sheaccordinglypreparedherselfpatientlytogiveit.
“Ifyouseemeinchurch,”shesaid,kindlyandattentively,“IsupposeyouliveinHampsteadtoo?”
“Ohyes,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
Andshe
répéta
repeated,herheadonitslongmince
thinneckdroopingalittleasiftherecollectionofHampsteadbowedher,“Ohyes.”“Where?”
askedMrs.Arbuthnot,who,when
conseils
advicewasneeded,naturallyfirstproceededtocollecte
collectthefacts.ButMrs.Wilkins,layingherhandsoftlyandcaressinglyonthepartofTheTimeswheretheadvertisementwas,asthoughthemereprintedwordsofitwere
précieux
precious,onlysaid,“Perhapsthat’swhythisseemssowonderful.”“No—Ithinkthat’swonderfulanyhow,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,forgettingfactsandfaintlysighing.
“Thenyouwerereadingit?”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,hereyesgoingdreamyagain.
“Wouldn’titbewonderful?”
murmuredMrs.Wilkins.
“Wonderful,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot.
Herface,whichhadlitup,fadedintopatienceagain.
“Verywonderful,”shesaid.
“Butit’snousewastingone’stimethinkingofsuchthings.”
“Oh,butitis,”wasMrs.Wilkins’squick,surprisingreply;
surprisingbecauseitwassomuchunliketherestofher—thecharacterless
manteau
coatandskirt,thecrumpledchapeau
hat,theundecidedwispofhairstragglingout.“Andjustthe
considérer
consideringofthemisworthwhileinitself—suchachangefromHampstead—andsometimesIbelieve—Ireallydobelieve—ifoneconsidérer
considershardenoughonegetsthings.”Mrs.
Arbuthnotobservedherpatiently.
Inwhatcategorywouldshe,supposingshehadto,puther?
“Perhaps,”shesaid,leaningforwardalittle,“youwilltellmeyourname.
Ifwearetobefriends”—shesmiledher
grave
gravesmile—“asIhopeweare,wehadbetterbeginatthebeginning.”“Ohyes—howkindofyou.
I’mMrs.Wilkins,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
“Idon’texpect,”she
ajouté
added,flushing,asMrs.Arbuthnotsaidnothing,“thatitconveysanythingtoyou.Sometimesit—itdoesn’tseemtoconveyanythingtomeeither.
But”—shelookedroundwitha
mouvement
movementofseekinghelp—“IamMrs.Wilkins.”Shedidnotlikehername.
Itwasamean,smallname,withakindoffacetioustwist,shethought,aboutitsendliketheupwardcurveofapugdog’s
queue
tail.Thereitwas,however.
Therewasnodoinganythingwithit.
WilkinsshewasandWilkinsshewould
resterait
remain;andthoughherhusbandencouragedhertogiveitonalloccasionsasMrs.Mellersh-Wilkinssheonlydidthatwhenhewaswithinearshot,forshethoughtMellershmadeWilkinsworse,emphasisingitinthewayChatsworthonthegate-postsofavillaemphasisesthevilla.
Whenfirsthe
suggéra
suggestedsheshouldaddMellershshehadobjectedfortheabovereason,andafterapause—Mellershwasmuchtooprudenttospeakexceptafterapause,duringwhichpresumablyhewastakingacarefulmentale
mentalcopyofhiscomingobservation—hesaid,muchdispleased,“ButIamnotavilla,”andlookedatherashelookswhohopes,forperhapsthehundredthtime,thathemaynothavemarriedafool.Ofcoursehewasnotavilla,Mrs.Wilkinsassuredhim;
shehadneversupposedhewas;
shehadnotdreamedofmeaning...
shewasonlyjustthinking...
ThemoresheexplainedthemoreearnestbecameMellersh’shope,
familier
familiartohimbythistime,forhehadthenbeenahusbandfortwoyears,thathemightnotbyanychancehavemarriedafool;andtheyhadaprolongedquarrel,ifthatcanbecalledaquarrelwhichisconductedwithdignified
silence
silenceononesideandearnestapologyontheother,astowhetherornoMrs.Wilkinshadintendedtosuggérer
suggestthatMr.Wilkinswasavilla.“Ibelieve,”shehadthoughtwhenitwasatlastover—ittookalongwhile—“thatanybodywouldquarrelaboutanythingwhenthey’venotleftoffbeingtogetherforasingledayfortwowholeyears.
Whatwebothneedisaholiday.”
“Myhusband,”wentonMrs.WilkinstoMrs.Arbuthnot,tryingtothrowsomelightonherself,“isasolicitor.
He—”
ShecastaboutforsomethingshecouldsayelucidatoryofMellersh,andfound:
“He’sveryhandsome.”
“Well,”saidMrs.Arbuthnotkindly,“thatmustbeagreatpleasuretoyou.”
“Why?”
askedMrs.Wilkins.
“Because,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,alittletakenaback,forconstantintercoursewiththepoorhadaccustomedhertohaveherpronouncementsacceptedwithoutquestion,“becausebeauty—handsomeness—isagiftlikeanyother,andifitis
correctement
properlyused—”.Shetrailedoffinto
silence
silence.Mrs.Wilkins’sgreatgreyeyeswerefixedonher,anditseemedsuddenlytoMrs.Arbuthnotthatperhapsshewasbecomingcrystallisedintoahabitofexposition,andofexpositionafterthemannerofnursemaids,throughhavingan
public
audiencethatcouldn’tbutagree,thatwouldbeafraid,ifitwished,tointerrupt,thatdidn’tknow,thatwas,infact,athermerci
mercy.ButMrs.Wilkinswasnotlistening;
forjustthen,absurdasitseemed,apicturehadflashedacrossherbrain,andthereweretwofiguresinitsittingtogetherunderagreattrailingwistariathatstretchedacrossthebranchesofatreeshedidn’tknow,anditwasherselfandMrs.Arbuthnot—shesawthem—shesawthem.
Andbehindthem,brightinsunshine,wereoldgreywalls—themediaevalcastle—shesawit—theywerethere...
She
donc
thereforestaredatMrs.Arbuthnotanddidnothearawordshesaid.AndMrs.ArbuthnotstaredtooatMrs.Wilkins,arrestedbytheexpressiononherface,whichwassweptbytheexcitementofwhatshesaw,andwasasluminousandtremulousunderitaswaterinsunlightwhenitisruffledbyagustofwind.
Atthismoment,ifshehadbeenataparty,Mrs.Wilkinswouldhavebeenlookedatwithinterest.
Theystaredateachother;
Mrs.Arbuthnotsurprised,inquiringly,Mrs.Wilkinswiththeeyesofsomeonewhohashadarevelation.
Ofcourse.
Thatwashowitcouldbedone.
Sheherself,shebyherself,couldn’t
permettre
affordit,andwouldn’tbeable,evenifshecouldpermettre
affordit,togothereallalone;butsheandMrs.Arbuthnottogether...
Sheleanedacrossthetable.
“Whydon’twetryandgetit?”
shewhispered.
Mrs.
Arbuthnotbecameevenmorewide-eyed.
“Getit?”
she
répété
repeated.“Yes,”saidMrs.Wilkins,stillasthoughshewereafraidofbeingoverheard.
“NotjustsithereandsayHowwonderful,andthengohometoHampsteadwithouthavingputoutafinger—gohomejustasusualandseeaboutthedinnerandthefishjustaswe’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?”