CHAPTERI
IfithadnotrainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeen
völlig
entirelydifferent.Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofherclan,toAuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.
Butitdidrainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.
Valancywakenedearly,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.
Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,and
unverheiratet
unmarried,inacommunityandconnectionwheretheunverheiratet
unmarriedaresimplythosewhohavefailedtogetaman.DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessoldmaidenhood.
ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.
Ay,therelaythesting.
Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeas
schrecklich
dreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.
Shedarednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.
Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheheart.
Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherworsethananyshehadhadyet.
Andshewasafraidhermotherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.
“Suppose,”thoughtValancywithaghastly
grinsen
grin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”
Thethoughtofhermother’s
ausdruck
expressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehadasenseofhumournobodyinherclan
clansuspected.Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasvery
oberflächlich
superficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,futilelittlefigure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightschlich
creepingintoherugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-paintedfloor,withonehideous,“hooked”
teppich
rugbythebed,withagrotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;thefaded,dark-redpaper;
the
decke
ceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;
thebrown-paperlambrequinwith
lila
purplerosesonit;thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;
the
glas
jarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythicalflitterwochen
honeymoon;theshell-coveredbox,withoneburstcorner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinher
ebenso
equallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theonestiff,yellowchair;
thefadedold
motto
motto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslong
verbannt
banishedfromtheroomsbelow.Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofapuppysittingonarainydoorstep.
ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancy
unglücklich
unhappy.Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedrivingrain!
Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theotherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdowna
treppe
stairway,whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertenthbirthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedQueenLouise.
Butsheneverdareddestroyitorremoveit.
MotherandCousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.
Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewere
erlaubt
permitted.Buthermotherhadnegativedeverytimid
vorschlag
suggestionandValancydidnotpersist.Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrook
widerstand
opposition.Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsulted
herzogin
duchess.TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnighttocryifshewantedto.
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?
Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingandCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinisterpurpose.
ButherroomintheBlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.
Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.
NobodyintheStirling
clan
clan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherandCousinStickles.TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlueCastleinSpain.
ValancyhadlivedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.
Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherself
besessen
possessedofit.Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,blueloveliness,againstthe
sonnenuntergang
sunsetskiesofafairandunknownland.Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthaveworn;
robesof
mondlicht
moonlightandfire;couchesofrosesandgold;
longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;
courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,forwhose
blick
glancemendied.Allthatsupportedherthroughthe
langeweile
boredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedof
schrecken
horroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinherBlueCastle.Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlongdevotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompand
umstand
circumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungkapelle
chapeloftheBlueCastle.Attwelve,thisloverwasafair
junge
ladwithgoldencurlsandhimmlisch
heavenlyblueeyes.Atfifteen,hewastallanddarkand
blass
pale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,
spirituell
spiritual.Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cut
kiefer
jaw,slightlygrim,andafacestrongandruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedsmileandamysteriouspast.
Idon’tsayValancy
absichtlich
deliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.Onesimplyfadedawayasanothercame.
ThingsareveryconvenientinthisrespectinBlueCastles.
But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,ValancycouldnotfindthekeyofherBlueCastle.
Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.
Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsome
clan
clan,withnopastandnofuture.Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonorpurplespotanywhere.
Asfarasshecouldlookforwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbutasolitary,littlewithered
blatt
leafclingingtoawintrybough.Themomentwhenawoman
erkennt
realisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitterkeit
bitternessofdeath.“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reall
schrecklich
horriblylong-lived.Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearily
zufrieden
satisfiedthatitwasraining.Therewouldbeno
picknick
picnicthatday.Thisannual
picknick
picnic,wherebyAuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirverlobung
engagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasherbirthdayand,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.
Muchasshehatedgoingtothe
picknick
picnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.Thereseemedtobenothingoftherevolutionaryinhernature.
Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthe
picknick
picnic.UncleWellington,whomshedislikedand
verachtete
despisedeventhoughhehaderfüllt
fulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.
AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabject
ehrfurcht
awe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedletter.ValancywouldhavetolookaspleasedandinterestedasifthedressandletterhadbeenhersorelseAuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.
AndValancyhadlongagodecidedthatshewouldrather
beleidigen
offendGodthanAuntWellington,becauseGodmightforgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiable
gewohnheit
habitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatbeautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowskin—.“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmyskinwasrosesandcream.
IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewould
bemerken
remarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.
Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbutrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobably
bemerken
remarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“WhatisthedifferencebetweenDossandamouse?
“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancyhadheardhimaskthat
rätsel
riddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedtothrowsomethingathim.Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnotthrowthings;
inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasawealthyandchildlessold
witwer
widowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefearandadmonitionofhismoney.Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.
ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegalling
bitterkeit
bitternessofit.Soshe
ertrug
enduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnot
vorhersagen
predictjusthow,forAuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.
Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelast
picknick
picnicandwonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.
Forthesamereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,accordingtothestrictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitive
veranlagung
disposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.And
Olive
Olive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan
clan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularität
popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbeautyandpresumeonherpopularität
popularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.
Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyandCousinStickles.
Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromAuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.
Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
ItsghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.
Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthe
picknick
picnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedtherainthathadsavedherfromit.Therewouldbeno
picknick
picnicthisyear.IfAuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthesacreddayitselfshewouldhaveno
feier
celebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbeno
picknick
picnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,iftherainheldupintheafternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothe
bibliothekar
librariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—under
protest
protest,foritwasonlytoooffensichtlich
evidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwasenjoyablewasdangerous.
Valancydidnotknowwhetherhermindwasbeingimprovedornot;
butshefelt
vage
vaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.Theyseemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernow.
ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthe
bibliothekar
librariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomoreinformationcanbehad.
Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
QuitelikelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemto
schwärmen
raveover.”“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarksonsmiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.
ButcertainlyFosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”
Valancydidn’tknowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.
ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.
Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalising
köder
lureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehinweis
hintofagreatsecretjustalittlefurtheron—somefaint,elusiveecho
echooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
ItwasamonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.
Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpainaroundtheheart.
Ithadcomeratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecoming
ärgerlich
annoying,nottospeakofanoccasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’
zustimmung
approval.Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshof
Port
PortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.
And,besides,shecouldnotgetto
Port
PortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”
AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;
andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonal
beleidigung
insult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;
andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;
andOlive—Olivewould
nur
merelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.
Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatallseriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshementionedit.
ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhisbill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthebankforherthedayshewasborn.
Shewasneverallowedtouseeventheinterestofthis,butshewould
heimlich
secretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.
Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretiresoon.
NoneoftheStirling
clan
clanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglicanchurch.
Kapitel
CHAPTERIIWhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsevenandshemustgetup.
Aslongasshecouldremember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastseven.
CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsinceseven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamily
tradition
traditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.