CHAPTERI
Ifithadnotrainedon
egy
acertainMaymorningValancyStirling’segész
wholelifewouldhavebeenentirelymás
different.Shewouldhavegone,withthe
többi
restofherclan,toAuntWellington’sengagementpicnicés
andDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.De
Butitdidrainandyoushallhallani
hearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.Valancywakenedearly,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.
Shehadnotsleptvery
jól
well.Onedoesnotsleep
jól
well,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,és
andunmarried,inacommunityés
andconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplyazok
thosewhohavefailedtogetaember
man.DeerwoodandtheStirlings
már
hadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessöreg
oldmaidenhood.ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,
kis
littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,amíg
untilthiswet,horriblemorning,amikor
whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineés
andunsoughtbyanyman.Ay,
ott
therelaythesting.Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeingan
öreg
oldmaid.Afterall,she
gondolta
thought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeingfeleségül
marriedtoanUncleWellingtonvagy
oranUncleBenjamin,orevenegy
anUncleHerbert.Whathurtherwas
amit
thatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanöreg
oldmaid.Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelay
ott
therealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.Shedarednotletherselfcryashardasshe
akarta
wantedto,fortworeasons.Shewas
félt
afraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheszív
heart.Shehadhadaspellofit
miután
aftershehadgotintobed—ratherworsemint
thananyshehadhadmég
yet.Andshewasafraidher
anyja
motherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfastés
andkeepatherwithperc
minute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingtheoka
causethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancywith
egy
aghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘Iamcryingmert
becauseIcannotgetmarried.’Milyen
HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedminden
everydayofherlifeofheröreg
oldmaiddaughter.”Butof
természetesen
courseappearancesshouldbekeptup.“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”
Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshe
volt
hadasenseofhumoursenki sem
nobodyinherclansuspected.For
amit
thatmatter,therewereagoodsok
manythingsaboutValancythatsenki sem
nobodysuspected.Butherlaughterwas
nagyon
verysuperficialandpresentlyshelayott
there,ahuddled,futilelittlefigure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideés
andwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilessfényt
lightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewit
és
andhatedit.Theyellow-paintedfloor,withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythe
ágy
bed,withagrotesque,“hooked”dogonit,mindig
alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;a
thefaded,dark-redpaper;theceilingdiscolouredby
régi
oldleaksandcrossedbycracks;a
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;thebrown-paperlambrequinwithpurplerosesonit;
thespotted
régi
oldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyher
anyja
motherinhermythicalhoneymoon;theshell-coveredbox,with
egyik
oneburstcorner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
az
theonestiff,yellowchair;thefadedoldmotto,“Gone
de
butnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;az
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromaz
theroomsbelow.Therewere
csak
onlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.One,an
öreg
oldchromoofapuppyül
sittingonarainydoorstep.Thatpicture
mindig
alwaysmadeValancyunhappy.Thatforlorn
kis
littledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedrivingrain!Miért
Whydidn’tsomeoneopenaz
thedoorandlethimin?The
másik
otherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdownegy
astairway,whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlyadott
givenheronhertenthbirthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatit
és
andhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedQueenLouise.De
Butsheneverdareddestroyitvagy
orremoveit.MotherandCousinStickleswould
volna
havebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldvolna
havehadafit.Everyroominthe
ház
housewasugly,ofcourse.De
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.Therewasno
pénz
moneyforroomsnobodyeverlátott
saw.Valancysometimesfeltthatshecould
volna
havedonesomethingforherroomherself,evennélkül
withoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.De
Buthermotherhadnegativedminden
everytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewas
félt
afraidto.Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordays
ha
ifoffended,withtheairsofegy
aninsultedduchess.Theonly
dolog
thingValancylikedaboutherroomwasamit
thatshecouldbealoneott
thereatnighttocryha
ifshewantedto.But,afterall,whatdidit
számít
matterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptaludni
sleepinganddressingin,wereugly?Valancywasneverpermittedto
maradjon
stayaloneinherroomforanymás
otherpurpose.Peoplewhowantedtobe
egyedül
alone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingés
andCousinSticklesbelieved,couldcsak
onlywanttobealoneforvalamilyen
somesinisterpurpose.ButherroomintheBlueCastlewaseverything
egy
aroomshouldbe.Valancy,socowed
és
andsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfmenni
gorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.NobodyintheStirlingclan,
vagy
oritsramifications,suspectedthis,legkevésbé
leastofallhermotherés
andCousinStickles.Theynever
tudták
knewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglypiros
redbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet
Street,andtheBlueCastleinSpain.Valancyhad
élt
livedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldemlékszik
remember.Shehadbeena
nagyon
verytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.Mindig
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsés
andbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,blueloveliness,ellen
againstthesunsetskiesofegy
afairandunknownland.Everythingwonderful
és
andbeautifulwasinthatcastle.Jewelsthatqueensmight
volna
haveworn;robesofmoonlight
és
andfire;couchesofroses
és
andgold;longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,with
nagy
great,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensmentek
goingupanddownthem;courts,marble-pillared,
ahol
whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamonga
themyrtles;hallsofmirrorsthatreflected
csak
onlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,forwhoseglancemendied.All
hogy
thatsupportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswastheremény
hopeofgoingonadreamspreeatéjszaka
night.Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswould
volna
havediedofhorroriftheyvolna
hadknownhalfthethingsValancycsinált
didinherBlueCastle.Foronethingshe
volt
hadquiteafewloversinit.Oh,
csak
onlyoneatatime.One
aki
whowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryés
andwonherafterlongdevotionés
andmanydeedsofderring-do,és
andwasweddedtoherwithpompés
andcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapeloftheBlueCastle.Attwelve,
ez
thisloverwasafairladwithgoldencurlsés
andheavenlyblueeyes.Atfifteen,hewastallanddarkandpale,
de
butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,spiritual.
Attwenty-five,he
volt
hadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,és
andafacestrongandruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolder
mint
thantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,de
butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadvolt
hadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedsmileés
andamysteriouspast.Idon’t
mondom
sayValancydeliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.Egyik
Onesimplyfadedawayasmásik
anothercame.ThingsareveryconvenientinthisrespectinBlueCastles.
De
But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,Valancycouldnottalálta
findthekeyofherBlueCastle.Realitypressedonher
túl
toohardly,barkingatherheelsmint
likeamaddeninglittledog.Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—the
egyetlen
onlyhomelygirlinahandsomeclan,withnomúlt
pastandnofuture.Asfarasshe
tudott
couldlookback,lifewasdrabés
andcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonvagy
orpurplespotanywhere.Asfarasshe
tudott
couldlookforwarditseemedcertaintobecsak
justthesameuntilshewassemmi
nothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoegy
awintrybough.Themoment
amikor
whenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtoélnie
livefor—neitherlove,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofhalál
death.“AndIjusthavetogoon
élnem
livingbecauseIcan’tstop.Imay
kell
havetoliveeightyyears,”gondolta
thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmeto
gondolok
thinkofit.”Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfied
hogy
thatitwasraining.There
lesz
wouldbenopicnicthatnapon
day.Thisannualpicnic,wherebyAunt
és
andUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirengagementategy
apicnicthirtyyearsbefore,volt
hadbeen,oflateyears,egy
averitablenightmaretoValancy.By
egy
animpishcoincidenceitwasa
thesamedayasherbirthdayés
and,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,senki sem
nobodyletherforgetit.Muchasshehatedgoingto
a
thepicnic,itwouldnevervolna
haveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.Thereseemedtobe
semmi
nothingoftherevolutionaryinhernature.És
Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.Bácsi
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedés
anddespisedeventhoughhehadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldmondta
saytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notgondolsz
thinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?ӎs
andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’s
új
newchiffondressandCecil’sutolsó
lastdevotedletter.Valancywould
volna
havetolookaspleasedés
andinterestedasifthedressés
andletterhadbeenhersorelseAuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.És
AndValancyhadlongagodecidedhogy
thatshewouldratheroffendIsten
GodthanAuntWellington,becauseIsten
GodmightforgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablehabitof
mindig
alwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheegyetlen
onlymalecreatureintheworld,aki
whocouldneverforgetthatshevolt
hadbeenagreatbeautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowskin—.“Idon’t
tudom
knowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.WhenIwasagirlmyskinwasroses
és
andcream.IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
Talán
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—ortalán
perhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”És
Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofszegény
poor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.Handsome,solemn
Bácsi
UncleJames,whomValancydislikedde
butrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobenagyon
verycleverandwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetúl
tooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldvalószínűleg
probablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthatvolt
hadwonhimhisreputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”És
AndUncleBenjaminwouldasknéhány
someofhisabominableconundrums,között
betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.“Whatisthedifference
között
betweenDossandamouse?“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancy
már
hadheardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimesés
andeverytimeshewantedtothrowsomethingatneki
him.Butsheneverdid.
Inthe
először
firstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnotthrowthings;inthesecondplace,
Nagybátyja
UncleBenjaminwasawealthyés
andchildlessoldwidowerandValancyvolt
hadbeenbroughtupinthefearés
andadmonitionofhismoney.Ha
Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.Valancydidnot
akarta
wanttobecutoutofBácsi
UncleBenjamin’swill.Shehadbeen
szegény
poorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.Sosheenduredhisriddles
és
andevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.AuntIsabel,downright
és
anddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinvalamilyen
someway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthogyan
how,forAuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shetalált
foundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyouminden
everytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,
de
butdidn’tlikeitsowellha
whenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoneki
her.Valancyneversaidwhatshe
gondol
thought.CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,who
lesz
hadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofösszes
allrelativesandfriendswholesz
haddiedsincethelastpicnicés
andwonder“whichofuslesz
willbethefirsttomegy
gonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusband
és
andherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,mert
becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldtalált
findtoputupwithit.Forthesame
okból
reason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysegyszer
onceremoved,accordingtothestrictmódon
wayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinhölgy
ladywhoadmittedshehadegy
asensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.És
AndOlive,thewondergirloftheegész
wholeStirlingclan,whohadeverythingValancyvolt
hadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbeautyés
andpresumeonherpopularityés
andflauntherdiamondinsigniaofszerelem
loveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Nem
Therewouldbenoneofallthisma
today.Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
Thepackingupwas
mindig
alwaysleftforValancyandCousinStickles.És
Andonce,sixyearsago,egy
asilverteaspoonfromAuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenelveszett
lost.Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
ItsghostappearedBanquo-likeat
minden
everysubsequentfamilyfeast.Oh,
igen
yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicniclesz
wouldbelikeandsheblessedtherainthatlesz
hadsavedherfromit.There
lesz
wouldbenopicnicthisévben
year.IfAuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthesacred
napon
dayitselfshewouldhavenem
nocelebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewerefor
hogy
that.Sincetherewouldbenopicnic,Valancy
hogy
madeuphermindthat,ha
iftherainheldupintheafternoon,shelesz
wouldgouptothelibraryés
andgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,
de
butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoods
és
andbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.
Itwaspermissible,
sőt
evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindés
andyourreligion,butakönyv
bookthatwasenjoyablewasdangerous.Valancydidnot
tudta
knowwhetherhermindwasbeingimprovedvagy
ornot;butshefeltvaguely
hogy
thatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsezelőtt
agolifemighthavebeenamás
differentthingforher.Theyseemedtohertoyieldglimpsesof
egy
aworldintowhichshemightegyszer
oncehaveentered,thoughtheajtó
doorwasforeverbarredtohermost
now.Itwasonlywithinthe
elmúlt
lastyearthatJohnFoster’sbooksvoltak
hadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,bár
thoughthelibrariantoldValancyhogy
thathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobody
tudja
knows.FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,
de
butnomoreinformationcanbehad.Hispublisherswon’tsay
egy
aword.QuitelikelyJohnFosteris
egy
anomdeplume.Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,
bár
thoughIreallycan’tseewhatemberek
peoplefindinthemtoraveover.”“I
hiszem
thinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.“Oh—well—”
Miss
MissClarksonsmiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaresokat
muchforbugsmyself.ButcertainlyFosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”
Valancydidn’t
tudta
knowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeofwildcreatures
és
andinsectlifethatenthralledőt
her.Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureof
egy
amysteryneverrevealed—somehintofegy
agreatsecretjustakicsit
littlefurtheron—somefaint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Igen
Yes,shewouldgetaúj
newFosterbook.Itwas
egy
amonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyAnya
Mothercouldnotobject.Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—she
tudott
knewwholepassagesoffbyheart.And—she
majdnem
almostthoughtshewouldgoés
andseeDr.Trentabouthogy
thatqueerpainaroundtheszív
heart.Ithadcomeratheroftenlately,
és
andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofanoccasionaldizzymomentés
andaqueershortnessofbreath.De
Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?Itwas
egy
amostdaringthought.NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncil
és
andgettingUncleJames’approval.Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,
aki
whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.De
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.És
And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.Shedidnot
akarta
wantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.Therewouldbe
olyan
suchafussmadeandminden
everymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownés
andtalkitoverandadviseherés
andcautionherandwarnherés
andtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsés
andcousinsfortytimesremovedakik
whohadbeen“justlikethat”és
and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”AuntIsabelwould
emlékszik
rememberthatshehadalwaysmondta
saidDosslookedlikealány
girlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedés
andpeakedalways”;andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonalinsult,
amikor
when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;és
andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasideshogy
that“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tsokáig
longforthisworld,I’mafraid”;és
andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethatimpliednincs
nooneelsehadanybusinesseventomár
haveaheart;andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautiful
és
andsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“Whyallthisfussoveregy
afadedsuperfluitylikeDossamikor
whenyouhaveme?”Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshe
kell
hadto.Shefeltquite
biztos
suretherewasnothingatösszes
allseriouslywrongwithherheartés
andnoneedofallthepotherhogy
thatwouldensueifshementionedit.Shewould
csak
justslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatverynapon
day.Asforhisbill,she
volt
hadthetwohundreddollarsamit
thatherfatherhadputinthebankforherthedayshewasborn.Shewasneverallowedtouseeventheinterestof
e
this,butshewouldsecretlytakeki
outenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwas
egy
agruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,de
buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenha
ifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.Dr.Trentwasoverseventy
és
andtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretirehamarosan
soon.NoneoftheStirlingclanhadever
ment
gonetohimsincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tíz
tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryés
andthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctor
aki
whoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianamikor
whenalltheStirlingswenttoaz
theAnglicanchurch.CHAPTERII
Amikor
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancytudta
knewitwashalf-pastsevenés
andshemustgetup.Aslongasshecould
emlékszik
remember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastseven.CousinStickles
és
andMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsinceseven,de
butValancywasallowedtolieabedfél
halfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,
bár
thoughshehatedgettinguptöbb
morethismorningthanevershevolt
hadbefore.