CHAPTERI
Ifit
avesse
hadnotrainedonacertainMaggio
MaymorningValancyStirling’swholevita
lifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.She
sarebbe
wouldhavegone,withtheresto
restofherclan,toAuntWellington’sengagementpicnice
andDr.Trentwouldhaveandato
gonetoMontreal.Butitdidrain
e
andyoushallhearwhatsuccesso
happenedtoherbecauseofit.Valancywakenedearly,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.
She
aveva
hadnotsleptverywell.Onedoesnot
dorme
sleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,e
andunmarried,inacommunitye
andconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplythoseche
whohavefailedtogetauomo
man.DeerwoodandtheStirlings
avevano
hadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessoldmaidenhood.Ma
ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquisheduna
acertainpitiful,shamed,littlesperanza
hopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilquesta
thiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefatto
factthatshewastwenty-ninee
andunsoughtbyanyman.Ay,therelay
il
thesting.Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeing
una
anoldmaid.Afterall,she
pensò
thought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeingmarriedtouna
anUncleWellingtonoranZio
UncleBenjamin,orevenanZio
UncleHerbert.Whathurtherwas
che
thatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.Nessun
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.Le
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinle
thefaintlygreyingdarkness.Shedarednotletherselfcryashardasshewanted
per
to,fortworeasons.Shewasafraid
che
thatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofche
thatpainaroundtheheart.Shehadhad
un
aspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherworsethanqualsiasi
anyshehadhadyet.E
Andshewasafraidhermadre
motherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfaste
andkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausa
causethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancywith
un
aghastlygrin,“Iansweredwithla
theplaintruth,‘Iamcryingperché
becauseIcannotgetmarried.’Come
HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedogni
everydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”Ma
Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.“Itisnot,”Valancycould
sentire
hearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytopensare
thinkaboutmen.”Thethoughtofhermother’sexpression
faceva
madeValancylaugh—forshehadun
asenseofhumournobodyinherclansuspected.For
che
thatmatter,therewereagoodmolte
manythingsaboutValancythatnessuno
nobodysuspected.Butherlaughterwasverysuperficial
e
andpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,futilelittlefigure,ascoltando
listeningtotherainpouringdownfuori
outsideandwatching,withamalato
sickdistaste,thechill,mercilessluce
lightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewit
e
andhatedit.Theyellow-paintedfloor,withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythe
letto
bed,withagrotesque,“hooked”cane
dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherquando
whensheawoke;thefaded,dark-redpaper;
il
theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleakse
andcrossedbycracks;thenarrow,pinched
piccolo
littlewashstand;thebrown-paperlambrequin
di
withpurplerosesonit;thespotted
vecchio
oldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;il
thejarofancientpotpourrifatto
madebyhermotherinhermythicalhoneymoon;la
theshell-coveredbox,withoneburstcorner,che
whichCousinStickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushion
di
withhalfitsbeadfringegone;theonestiff,yellowchair;
il
thefadedoldmotto,“Gonema
butnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimvecchio
oldface;theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfrom
le
theroomsbelow.Therewere
solo
onlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.One,an
vecchio
oldchromoofapuppyseduto
sittingonarainydoorstep.Thatpicture
sempre
alwaysmadeValancyunhappy.Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedrivingrain!
Whydidn’tsomeone
aperto
openthedoorandlethimin?Theotherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdownastairway,
che
whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertenthbirthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatit
e
andhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedQueenLouise.Ma
Butsheneverdareddestroyito
orremoveit.MotherandCousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,
o
or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadun
afit.Everyroominthe
casa
housewasugly,ofcourse.Ma
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.Therewas
non
nomoneyforroomsnobodyevervisto
saw.Valancysometimesfeltthatshecould
avrebbe
havedonesomethingforherroomherself,evensenza
withoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.Ma
Buthermotherhadnegativedogni
everytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraid
di
to.Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordays
se
ifoffended,withtheairsofuna
aninsultedduchess.Theonly
cosa
thingValancylikedaboutherroomwasche
thatshecouldbealonethereatnotte
nighttocryifshewantedto.Ma
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterse
ifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptdormire
sleepinganddressingin,wereugly?Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomfor
qualsiasi
anyotherpurpose.Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirling
e
andCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinisterpurpose.Ma
ButherroomintheBlueCastlewastutto
everythingaroomshouldbe.Valancy,socowed
e
andsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreale
reallife,waswonttoletherselfandare
gorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.Nessuno
NobodyintheStirlingclan,o
oritsramifications,suspectedthis,meno
leastofallhermothere
andCousinStickles.Theynever
sapevano
knewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrickboxofuna
ahome,onElmStreet,e
andtheBlueCastleinSpain.Valancy
aveva
hadlivedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldricordare
remember.Shehadbeenaverytinychild
quando
whenshefoundherselfpossessedofesso
it.Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecould
vedeva
seeitplainly,withitsturretse
andbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,blueloveliness,contro
againstthesunsetskiesofuna
afairandunknownland.Tutto
Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinche
thatcastle.Jewelsthatqueens
potuto
mighthaveworn;robesofmoonlight
e
andfire;couchesofroses
e
andgold;longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,
e
andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupe
anddownthem;courts,marble-pillared,
dove
whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;hallsofmirrors
che
thatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightse
andlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestoftutte
all,forwhoseglancemenmorivano
died.Allthatsupportedher
attraverso
throughtheboredomofherdayswasla
thehopeofgoingonun
adreamspreeatnight.Maggior parte
Most,ifnotall,ofla
theStirlingswouldhavediedofhorrorse
iftheyhadknownhalfla
thethingsValancydidinherBlueCastle.Forone
cosa
thingshehadquiteafewloversinesso
it.Oh,onlyoneata
volta
time.Onewhowooedherwith
tutto
alltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalrye
andwonherafterlongdevotione
andmanydeedsofderring-do,e
andwasweddedtoherwithpompe
andcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapeloftheBlueCastle.Attwelve,
questo
thisloverwasafairladwithgoldencurlse
andheavenlyblueeyes.Atfifteen,hewastall
e
anddarkandpale,butancora
stillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,spiritual.
Attwenty-five,he
aveva
hadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,e
andafacestrongandruggedratherche
thanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,
ma
butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadhadreddish,tawnycapelli
hair,atwistedsmileandun
amysteriouspast.Idon’t
dico
sayValancydeliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewli
them.Onesimplyfadedawayasanothercame.
Thingsareveryconvenientin
questo
thisrespectinBlueCastles.Ma
But,onthismorningofhergiorno
dayoffate,Valancycouldnottrovare
findthekeyofherBlueCastle.Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheels
come
likeamaddeninglittledog.Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomely
ragazza
girlinahandsomeclan,withnopassato
pastandnofuture.Asfarasshecould
guardare
lookback,lifewasdrabe
andcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsono
orpurplespotanywhere.Asfarasshecould
guardare
lookforwarditseemedcertaintobejustthestesso
sameuntilshewasnothingbutun
asolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoun
awintrybough.Themomentwhen
una
awomanrealisesthatshehasnulla
nothingtolivefor—neitherlove,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforheril
thebitternessofdeath.“AndIjusthavetogoon
vivere
livingbecauseIcan’tstop.Imayhaveto
vivere
liveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inuna
akindofpanic.“We’re
tutti
allhorriblylong-lived.Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfied
che
thatitwasraining.Therewouldbenopicnicthat
giorno
day.Thisannualpicnic,wherebyAunt
e
andUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirengagementatun
apicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,un
averitablenightmaretoValancy.By
una
animpishcoincidenceitwasthestesso
samedayasherbirthdaye
and,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nessuno
nobodyletherforgetit.Quanto
Muchasshehatedgoingtole
thepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.Ci
Thereseemedtobenothingoftherevolutionaryinhernature.E
Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewoulddetto
saytoheratthepicnic.Zio
UncleWellington,whomshedislikede
anddespisedeventhoughheaveva
hadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”woulddiceva
saytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notpensando
thinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”e
andthengooffintole
thebellowoflaughterwithcui
whichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’s
nuovo
newchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedletter.Valancywould
avrebbe
havetolookaspleasede
andinterestedasifthedresse
andletterhadbeenherso
orelseAuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.E
AndValancyhadlongagodecidedthatshewouldratheroffendDio
GodthanAuntWellington,becauseDio
GodmightforgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablehabitof
sempre
alwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asse
ifheweretheonlymalecreatureinla
theworld,whocouldneverdimenticare
forgetthatshehadbeenagrande
greatbeautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowskin—.“Idon’t
so
knowwhyallthegirlsofoggi
todayaresosunburned.WhenIwas
una
agirlmyskinwasrosese
andcream.Iwascounted
la
theprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”Forse
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orforse
perhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”E
Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpovero
poor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.Handsome,solemn
Zio
UncleJames,whomValancydislikedma
butrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeveryclevere
andwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobabilmente
probablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmche
thathadwonhimhisreputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”E
AndUncleBenjaminwouldaskalcuni
someofhisabominableconundrums,tra
betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.“Whatis
la
thedifferencebetweenDossandun
amouse?“Themousewishestoharm
il
thecheeseandDosswishestocharmil
thehe’s.”Valancyhadheardhim
chiedere
askthatriddlefiftytimese
andeverytimeshewantedtothrowqualcosa
somethingathim.Butshenever
fatto
did.Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnotthrowthings;
inthesecond
luogo
place,UncleBenjaminwasawealthye
andchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefeare
andadmonitionofhismoney.Se
Ifsheoffendedhimhefosse
wouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.Valancydidnotwanttobe
tagliato
cutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.Shehadbeenpoorallher
vita
lifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.Sosheenduredhisriddles
e
andevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilessu
overthem.AuntIsabel,downright
e
anddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinqualche
someway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthow,forAuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shetrovava
foundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyouogni
everytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,
ma
butdidn’tlikeitsowellquando
whenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.Valancynever
detto
saidwhatshethought.CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,who
aveva
hadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesoftutti
allrelativesandfriendswhoaveva
haddiedsincethelastpicnice
andwonder“whichofussarà
willbethefirsttoandare
gonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildredwould
parlava
talkendlesslyofherhusbande
andherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,perché
becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldtrovare
findtoputupwithit.Forthe
stesso
samereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysvolta
onceremoved,accordingtothestrictmodo
wayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinsignora
ladywhoadmittedshehaduna
asensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.E
AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan,che
whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldmostrato
showoffherbeautyandpresumeonherpopularitye
andflauntherdiamondinsigniaofamore
loveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Ci
Therewouldbenoneoftutto
allthistoday.Andtherewouldbe
non
nopackingupofteaspoons.Le
Thepackingupwasalwayslasciate
leftforValancyandCousinStickles.E
Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromAuntWellington’sweddingset
sethadbeenlost.Valancynever
sentito
heardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.ItsghostappearedBanquo-likeat
ogni
everysubsequentfamilyfeast.Oh,
sì
yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbecome
likeandsheblessedtherainche
thathadsavedherfromit.Ci
Therewouldbenopicnicthisyear.Se
IfAuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthesacredgiorno
dayitselfshewouldhavenon
nocelebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewerefor
che
that.Sincetherewouldbenopicnic,Valancymadeuphermind
che
that,iftherainheldupinla
theafternoon,shewouldgouptola
thelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedto
leggere
readnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.Theywere“naturebooks”—so
il
thelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutil
thewoodsandbirdsandbugse
andthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevident
che
thatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,to
leggere
readtoimproveyourminde
andyourreligion,butalibro
bookthatwasenjoyablewasdangerous.Valancydidnot
sapeva
knowwhetherhermindwasbeingimprovedo
ornot;butshefeltvaguely
che
thatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsfa
agolifemighthavebeenuna
adifferentthingforher.Theyseemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofa
mondo
worldintowhichshemightvolta
oncehaveentered,thoughtheporta
doorwasforeverbarredtoherora
now.Itwasonlywithinthelastyear
che
thatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,anche se
thoughthelibrariantoldValancyche
thathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhad
chiesto
asked.“Nobodyknows.
Fromhisbookshe
deve
mustbeaCanadian,butnon
nomoreinformationcanbeavere
had.Hispublisherswon’tsay
una
aword.QuitelikelyJohnFosteris
un
anomdeplume.Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,
anche se
thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeopletrovi
findinthemtoraveover.”“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”
disse
saidValancy,timidly.“Oh—well—”
MissClarksonsmiledinapatronisingfashion
che
thatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tdire
sayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.Ma
ButcertainlyFosterseemstosapere
knowallthereistosapere
knowaboutthem.”Valancydidn’t
sapeva
knowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeofwildcreatures
e
andinsectlifethatenthralledher.Shecouldhardly
dire
saywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofun
amysteryneverrevealed—somehintofun
agreatsecretjustalittlefurtheron—somefaint,elusiveechooflovely,dimenticate
forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldget
un
anewFosterbook.Itwas
un
amonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMadre
Mothercouldnotobject.Valancyhadreadit
quattro
fourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.And—she
quasi
almostthoughtshewouldgoe
andseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpainintorno
aroundtheheart.Ithad
venuto
comeratheroftenlately,andle
thepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottoparlare
speakofanoccasionaldizzymomento
momentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Ma
Butcouldshegotoseehimsenza
withouttellinganyone?Itwas
un
amostdaringthought.NoneoftheStirlingseverconsulted
un
adoctorwithoutholdingafamiglia
familycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.Then,they
andarono
wenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,che
whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.Ma
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.E
And,besides,shecouldnotarrivare
gettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,senza
withoutbeingtakenthere.Shedidnotwantanyoneto
sapesse
knowaboutherheart.Therewouldbe
tale
suchafussmadeandogni
everymemberofthefamilywouldveniva
comedownandtalkitovere
andadviseherandcautionhere
andwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntse
andcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”e
and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”AuntIsabelwould
ricorderebbe
rememberthatshehadalwaysdetto
saidDosslookedlikearagazza
girlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchede
andpeakedalways”;andUncleWellingtonwould
preso
takeitasapersonalinsult,quando
when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;e
andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesche
that“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlungo
longforthisworld,I’mafraid”;e
andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,mycuore
hearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatoneche
thatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventoavere
haveaheart;andOlive—Olive
volesse
wouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperiore
anddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftodire
say,“Whyallthisfussoveruna
afadedsuperfluitylikeDossquando
whenyouhaveme?”Valancy
sentiva
feltthatshecouldn’ttellnessuno
anybodyunlessshehadto.She
sentiva
feltquitesuretherewasnulla
nothingatallseriouslywrongwithhercuore
heartandnoneedoftutto
allthepotherthatwouldensuese
ifshementionedit.She
sarebbe
wouldjustslipupquietlye
andseeDr.Trentthatverygiorno
day.Asforhisbill,she
aveva
hadthetwohundreddollarsche
thatherfatherhadputinthebankforherthegiorno
dayshewasborn.Shewasneverallowedto
usare
useeventheinterestofquesto
this,butshewouldsecretlyprendeva
takeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwas
un
agruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,ma
buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evense
ifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.Dr.Trentwas
oltre
overseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursche
thathemeanttoretirepresto
soon.NoneoftheStirlingclan
aveva
hadevergonetohimsinceheaveva
hadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsprima
before,thatherneuritiswasallimaginarye
andthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatronisea
dottore
doctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianquando
whenalltheStirlingswenttoil
theAnglicanchurch.CHAPTERII
Quando
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherporta
door,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsevene
andshemustgetup.Aslongasshecould
ricordare
remember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherporta
doorathalf-pastseven.CousinStickles
e
andMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsinceseven,ma
butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamiglia
familytraditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,
anche se
thoughshehatedgettinguppiù
morethismorningthanevershehadprima
before.