CHAPTERI
IfithadnotrainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeen
teljesen
entirelydifferent.Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofherclan,toAuntWellington’s
eljegyzési
engagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.Butitdidrainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.
Valancywakenedearly,inthe
élettelen
lifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,inacommunityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplythosewhohavefailedtogetaman.
DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancyto
reménytelen
hopelessoldmaidenhood.ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertain
szánalmas
pitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.Ay,therelaythesting.
Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeas
szörnyű
dreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.
Shedarednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.
Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheheart.
Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherworsethananyshehadhadyet.
Andshewasafraidhermotherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfastandkeepatherwithminute,
kitartó
persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancywitha
szörnyű
ghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeegyszerű
plaintruth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”
Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehadasenseofhumournobodyinherclansuspected.
Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasvery
felszínes
superficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,hiábavaló
futilelittlefigure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,könyörtelen
mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,mocskos
sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-paintedfloor,withonehideous,“hooked”
szőnyeg
rugbythebed,withagroteszk
grotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;the
elhalványult
faded,dark-redpaper;theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;
thebrown-paperlambrequinwith
lila
purplerosesonit;thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;
thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythicalhoneymoon;
theshell-coveredbox,withoneburstcorner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinher
ugyanolyan
equallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theone
merev
stiff,yellowchair;thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtheroomsbelow.
Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofa
kiskutya
puppysittingonarainydoorstep.ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.
Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthe
küszöbön
doorstepinthedrivingrain!Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theotherpicturewasa
elhalványult
faded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdownastairway,whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertizedik
tenthbirthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,
önelégült
smug,self-satisfiedQueenLouise.Butsheneverdareddestroyitorremoveit.
MotherandCousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.
Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewere
megengedték volna
permitted.Buthermotherhadnegativedevery
félénk
timidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsultedduchess.
TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnighttocryifshewantedto.
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?
Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingandCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsome
baljós
sinisterpurpose.ButherroomintheBlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.
Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.
NobodyintheStirlingclan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherandCousinStickles.
TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyred
tégla
brickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlueCastleinSpain.ValancyhadlivedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.
Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinits
halvány
faint,blueloveliness,againstthenaplemente
sunsetskiesofafairandunknownland.Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthaveworn;
robesofmoonlightandfire;
couchesofrosesandgold;
longflightsof
sekély
shallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthat
tükröztek
reflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,forwhoseglancemendied.Allthatsupportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.
Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedofhorroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinherBlueCastle.
Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlong
odaadás
devotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapeloftheBlueCastle.Attwelve,thisloverwasafair
fiú
ladwithgoldencurlsandmennyei
heavenlyblueeyes.Atfifteen,hewastallanddarkand
sápadt
pale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,
álmodozó
dreamy,spiritual.Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cutjaw,
kissé
slightlygrim,andafacestrongandruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedsmileanda
titokzatos
mysteriouspast.Idon’tsayValancy
szándékosan
deliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.Onesimply
elhalványult
fadedawayasanothercame.ThingsareveryconvenientinthisrespectinBlueCastles.
But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,ValancycouldnotfindthekeyofherBlueCastle.
Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.
Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsomeclan,withnopastandnofuture.
Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonor
lila
purplespotanywhere.Asfarasshecouldlookforwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbuta
magányos
solitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.Themomentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdeath.
“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasraining.
Therewouldbeno
piknik
picnicthatday.Thisannual
piknik
picnic,wherebyAuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirengagementatapiknik
picnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasherbirthdayand,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.
Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.
Thereseemedtobenothingofthe
forradalmi
revolutionaryinhernature.Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”
andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhis
unalmas
dullremarks.AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedletter.
ValancywouldhavetolookaspleasedandinterestedasifthedressandletterhadbeenhersorelseAuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.
AndValancyhadlongagodecidedthatshewouldratheroffendGodthanAuntWellington,becauseGodmightforgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiable
szokás
habitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatbeautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowskin—.“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmyskinwasrosesandcream.
IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”
Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.
Handsome,
ünnepélyes
solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbutrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforetheklán
clanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“WhatisthedifferencebetweenDossandamouse?
“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancyhadheardhimaskthat
rejtvényt
riddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedtothrowsomethingathim.Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnotthrowthings;
inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasa
gazdag
wealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefearandadmonitionofhismoney.Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.
ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.
Sosheenduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.
AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnot
megjósolni
predictjusthow,forAuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.
Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelast
piknik
picnicandwonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.
Forthesamereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,accordingtothe
szigorú
strictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.And
Olive
Olive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingklán
clan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbeautyandpresumeonherpopularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,irigy
enviouseyes.Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.
Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyandCousinStickles.
Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromAuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.
Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
ItsghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.
Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthe
piknik
picnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedtherainthathadsavedherfromit.Therewouldbeno
piknik
picnicthisyear.IfAuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthe
szent
sacreddayitselfshewouldhavenocelebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbeno
piknik
picnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,iftherainheldupintheafternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothe
könyvtáros
librariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—under
tiltakozás
protest,foritwasonlytoonyilvánvaló
evidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwas
élvezetes
enjoyablewasdangerous.Valancydidnotknowwhetherhermindwasbeingimprovedornot;
butshefelt
bizonytalanul
vaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.Theyseemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernow.
ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthe
könyvtáros
librariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomoreinformationcanbehad.
Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
QuitelikelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemtoraveover.”
“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarksonsmiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.
ButcertainlyFosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”
Valancydidn’tknowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.
ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.
Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehintofagreatsecretjustalittlefurtheron—some
gyenge
faint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
ItwasamonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.
Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpainaroundtheheart.
Ithadcomeratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecoming
bosszantó
annoying,nottospeakofanalkalmi
occasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.
Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshof
Port
PortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.ButValancydislikedDr.Ambrose
Marsh
Marsh.And,besides,shecouldnotgetto
Port
PortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverand
tanácsot
adviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;
andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;
andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;
andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;
andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“Whyallthis
felhajtás
fussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.
Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatallseriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshementionedit.
ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhisbill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthebankforherthedayshewasborn.
Shewasneverallowedtouseeventheinterestofthis,butshewould
titokban
secretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasa
elismert
recognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeantto
nyugdíjba
retiresoon.NoneoftheStirlingclanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasall
képzeletbeli
imaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglicanchurch.
Fejezet
CHAPTERIIWhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsevenandshemustgetup.
Aslongasshecouldremember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastseven.
CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsinceseven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamily
hagyomány
traditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.