CHAPTERI
IfithadnotrainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.
Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofherclan,to
Tante
AuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.Butitdidrainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.
Valancywakenedearly,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.
Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,inacommunityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedare
einfach
simplythosewhohavefailedtogetaman.DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessoldmaidenhood.
ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.
Ay,there
lag
laythesting.Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.
Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshe
lag
laytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.Shedarednotletherself
weinen
cryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheheart.
Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—rather
schlimmer
worsethananyshehadhadyet.Andshewasafraidhermotherwould
bemerken
noticeherredeyesatfrühstück
breakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancywithaghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”
Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorial
stimme
voiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehada
sinn
senseofhumournobodyinherclansuspected.Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasverysuperficialandpresentlyshe
lag
laythere,ahuddled,futilelittlefigur
figure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-painted
boden
floor,withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,withagrotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;thefaded,dark-red
papier
paper;theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;
thebrown-paperlambrequinwithpurplerosesonit;
thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;
thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythicalhoneymoon;
theshell-coveredbox,withoneburstcorner,which
Cousin
CousinStickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theonestiff,yellowchair;
thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtheroomsbelow.
Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofapuppysittingonarainydoorstep.
That
bild
picturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedriving
regen
rain!Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theother
bild
picturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofKönigin
QueenLouisecomingdownastairway,whichTante
AuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertenthgeburtstag
birthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfied
Königin
QueenLouise.Butsheneverdareddestroyitorremoveit.
Motherand
Cousin
CousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.
ButhermotherhadnegativedeverytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.
Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsultedduchess.
TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnightto
weinen
cryifshewantedto.But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?
Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingand
Cousin
CousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinisterpurpose.ButherroomintheBlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.
Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgo
ziemlich
rathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.NobodyintheStirlingclan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherand
Cousin
CousinStickles.TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlueCastleinSpain.
ValancyhadlivedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.
Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofafairandunknownland.
Everything
wunderbare
wonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.Jewelsthatqueensmighthaveworn;
robesofmoonlightandfire;
couchesofrosesand
gold
gold;longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;
courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,for
deren
whoseglancemendied.Allthatsupportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.
Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedofhorroriftheyhad
gewusst
knownhalfthethingsValancydidinherBlueCastle.Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlongdevotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapeloftheBlueCastle.
Attwelve,thisloverwasafairladwithgoldencurlsandheavenlyblueeyes.
Atfifteen,hewastalland
dunkel
darkandpale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,spiritual.
Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,andaface
stark
strongandruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—her
held
herohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedlächeln
smileandamysteriouspast.Idon’tsayValancydeliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.
One
einfach
simplyfadedawayasanothercame.Thingsareveryconvenientinthis
hinsicht
respectinBlueCastles.But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,Valancycouldnotfindthe
schlüssel
keyofherBlueCastle.Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.
Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsomeclan,withnopastandno
zukunft
future.Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonorpurple
fleck
spotanywhere.Asfarasshecouldlookforwardit
schien
seemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.Themomentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,
pflicht
duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdeath.“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—or
vielmehr
rather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasraining.Therewouldbenopicnicthatday.
Thisannualpicnic,whereby
Tante
AuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirengagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasher
geburtstag
birthdayand,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.
There
schien
seemedtobenothingoftherevolutionaryinhernatur
nature.Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”
andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.
Tante
AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffonkleid
dressandCecil’slastdevotedbrief
letter.Valancywouldhavetolookaspleasedand
interessiert
interestedasifthedressandbrief
letterhadbeenhersorelseTante
AuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.AndValancyhadlongago
entschieden
decidedthatshewouldratheroffendGodthanTante
AuntWellington,becauseGodmightverzeihen
forgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.Tante
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablehabitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatschönheit
beautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowhaut
skin—.“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmy
haut
skinwasrosesandcream.IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“How
fett
fatyou’regetting,Doss!”Andtheneverybodywould
lachten
laughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfett
fat.Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbutrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“I
nehme an
supposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“Whatisthe
unterschied
differencebetweenDossandamouse?“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancyhadheardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedto
werfen
throwsomethingathim.Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlings
einfach
simplydidnotthrowthings;inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasawealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefearandadmonitionofhismoney.
Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.
ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.
Sosheenduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.
Tante
AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthow,forTante
AuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.Tante
AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
Cousin
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelastpicnicandwonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,
Tante
AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.Forthesamereason,
Cousin
CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,nach
accordingtothestrictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldshowoffher
schönheit
beautyandpresumeonherpopularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.
Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyand
Cousin
CousinStickles.Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfrom
Tante
AuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
Its
geist
ghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedthe
regen
rainthathadsavedherfromit.Therewouldbenopicnicthisyear.
If
Tante
AuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthesacreddayitselfshewouldhavenocelebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbenopicnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,ifthe
regen
rainheldupinthenachmittag
afternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”
SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.
Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwasenjoyablewas
gefährlich
dangerous.Valancydidnotknow
ob
whetherhermindwasbeingimprovedornot;butshefeltvaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.
They
schienen
seemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasfür immer
foreverbarredtohernow.ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthelibrariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.
“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomore
informationen
informationcanbehad.Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
QuitelikelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemtoraveover.”
“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarkson
lächelte
smiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.But
sicherlich
certainlyFosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”Valancydidn’tknow
ob
whethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.
Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehintofagreatsecretjustalittle
weiter
furtheron—somefaint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
Itwasa
monat
monthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueer
schmerzen
painaroundtheheart.Ithadcome
ziemlich
ratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofanoccasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.
Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecond
Cousine
CousinAdelaideStirling.ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.
And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.
Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”
Tante
AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;
andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;
and
Cousin
CousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”
Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybody
es sei denn
unlessshehadto.Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatall
ernsthaft
seriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifsheerwähnte
mentionedit.ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhis
rechnung
bill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthebank
bankforherthedayshewasborn.Shewasneverallowedtouseeventhe
zinsen
interestofthis,butshewouldsecretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.
Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretiresoon.
NoneoftheStirlingclanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtold
Cousin
CousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglican
kirche
church.CHAPTERII
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-past
sieben
sevenandshemustgetup.Aslongasshecouldremember,
Cousin
CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastsieben
seven.CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsince
sieben
seven,butValancywasallowedtoliegen
lieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.