Chapter1
Itbeganin
un
aWoman’sClubinLondononun
aFebruaryafternoon—anuncomfortableclub,e
andamiserableafternoon—whenMrs.Wilkins,che
whohadcomedownfromHampsteadtoshope
andhadlunchedatherclub,prese
tookupTheTimesfromthetableinthesmoking-room,e
andrunningherlistlesseyegiù
downtheAgonyColumnsawquesto
this:.ToThosewhoAppreciateWistaria
e
andSunshine.SmallmediaevalItalianCastleon
il
theshoresoftheMediterraneantobeLasciare
LetFurnishedforthemonthofApril.Necessaryservantsremain.
Z,Box1000,
Il
TheTimes.Thatwasitsconception;
yet,asinthe
caso
caseofmanyanother,theconceiverwasunawareofitatthemomento
moment.SoentirelyunawarewasMrs.Wilkins
che
thatherAprilforthatyearhadthene
andtherebeensettledforherche
thatshedroppedthenewspaperwithun
agesturethatwasbothirritatede
andresigned,andwentovertothewindowe
andstareddrearilyoutatthedrippingstrada
street.Notforherweremediaevalcastles,eventhose
che
thatarespeciallydescribedassmall.NotforhertheshoresinApriloftheMediterranean,
e
andthewistariaandsunshine.Suchdelightswere
solo
onlyfortherich.Yettheadvertisement
ha
hadbeenaddressedtopersonswhoappreciatethesethings,sothatitha
hadbeen,anyhow,addressedtootoher,forshecertainlyappreciatedli
them;morethananybodyknew;
morethanshe
avesse
hadevertold.Butshewaspoor.
In
il
thewholeworldshepossessedofherveryproprio
ownonlyninetypounds,savedfromanno
yeartoyear,putbycarefullypoundbypound,fuori
outofherdressallowance.She
aveva
hadscrapedthissumtogetheratthesuggestionofhermarito
husbandasashieldandrefugecontro
againstarainyday.Herdressallowance,givenherbyher
padre
father,was£100ayear,sothatMrs.Wilkins’sclotheswerewhathermarito
husband,urginghertosave,chiamava
calledmodestandbecoming,andheracquaintancetoeachother,quando
whentheyspokeofheratall,whichwasseldomforshewasverynegligible,chiamava
calledaperfectsight.Mr.
Wilkins,
un
asolicitor,encouragedthrift,exceptthatbranchofitwhichgotintohiscibo
food.Hedidnotcallthatthrift,he
chiamava
calleditbadhousekeeping.Butfor
la
thethriftwhich,likemoth,penetratedintoMrs.Wilkins’sclothese
andspoiltthem,hehadmuchpraise.“Youneverknow,”he
disse
said,“whentherewillbeun
arainyday,andyoumaybeverygladtofindyouavere
haveanest-egg.Indeedwe
entrambi
bothmay.”Lookingoutof
il
theclubwindowintoShaftesburyAvenue—herswasun
aneconomicalclub,butconvenientforHampstead,dove
whereshelived,andforShoolbred’s,dove
wheresheshopped—Mrs.Wilkins,havingstoodtheresome
tempo
timeverydrearily,hermind’seyeontheMediterraneaninApril,e
andthewistaria,andtheenviableopportunitiesoftherich,mentre
whileherbodilyeyewatchedthedavvero
reallyextremelyhorriblesootyraincadeva
fallingsteadilyonthehurryingumbrellase
andsplashingomnibuses,suddenlywonderedwhetherforse
perhapsthiswasnottherainygiorno
dayMellersh—MellershwasMr.Wilkins—hadsooftenencouragedhertopreparefor,e
andwhethertogetoutofsuchun
aclimateandintothesmallmediaevalcastlewasn’tforse
perhapswhatProvidencehadallalongintendedhertodowithhersavings.Parte
Partofhersavings,ofcourse;forse
perhapsquiteasmallpart.Thecastle,beingmediaeval,
poteva
mightalsobedilapidated,anddilapidationsweresurelycheap.Shewouldn’tin
le
theleastmindafewofloro
them,becauseyoudidn’tpayfordilapidationsche
whichwerealreadythere;on
il
thecontrary—byreducingthepriceyouhanno
hadtopaytheyreallypaidyou.Ma
Butwhatnonsensetothinkofit...Sheturnedawayfromthewindowwiththe
stesso
samegestureofmingledirritatione
andresignationwithwhichsheaveva
hadlaiddownTheTimes,e
andcrossedtheroomtowardstheporta
doorwiththeintentionofgettinghermackintoshe
andumbrellaandfightingherstrada
wayintooneoftheovercrowdedomnibusese
andgoingtoShoolbred’sonherstrada
wayhomeandbuyingsomesolesforMellersh’sdinner—Mellershwasdifficultwithfishe
andlikedonlysoles,exceptsalmon—whenshebeheldMrs.Arbuthnot,awomansheknewbysightasalsolivinginHampsteade
andbelongingtotheclub,sittingatthetableinthemiddleoftheroomoncui
whichthenewspapersandmagazineswerekept,absorbed,inherturn,inthefirstpageofTheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkins
aveva
hadneveryetspokentoMrs.Arbuthnot,che
whobelongedtooneofthevariouschurchsets,e
andwhoanalysed,classified,dividede
andregisteredthepoor;whereasshe
e
andMellersh,whentheydidandavano
goout,wenttothepartiesofimpressionistpainters,ofwhominHampsteadthereweremolti
many.Mellershhadasisterwho
aveva
hadmarriedoneoftheme
andlivedupontheHeath,e
andbecauseofthisallianceMrs.Wilkinswasdrawnintoacirclewhichwashighlyunnaturaltoher,e
andshehadlearnedtodreadpictures.Shehadto
dire
saythingsaboutthem,andshedidn’tsapeva
knowwhattosay.Sheusedtomurmur,“Marvellous,”
e
andfeelthatitwasnotabbastanza
enough.Butnobodyminded.
Nobody
ascoltato
listened.NobodytookanynoticeofMrs.Wilkins.
Shewas
il
thekindofpersonwhoisnotnoticedatparties.Herclothes,infestedbythrift,
rendevano
madeherpracticallyinvisible;her
faccia
facewasnon-arresting;herconversationwasreluctant;
shewasshy.
E
Andifone’sclothesandviso
faceandconversationareallnegligible,pensò
thoughtMrs.Wilkins,whorecognisedherdisabilities,cosa
what,atparties,isthereleftofuno
one?AlsoshewasalwayswithWilkins,thatclean-shaven,fine-lookingman,who
dava
gaveaparty,merelybyvenendo
comingtoit,agreataria
air.Wilkinswasveryrespectable.
Hewasknowntobehighlythoughtofbyhisseniorpartners.
Hissister’scircleadmired
lo
him.Hepronouncedadequatelyintelligentjudgmentsonart
e
andartists.Hewaspithy;
hewasprudent;
henever
detto
saidawordtoomuch,nor,ontheotherhand,didheeverdetto
sayawordtoolittle.Heproducedtheimpressionof
tenere
keepingcopiesofeverythinghedetto
said;andhewassoobviouslyreliablethatitoften
accadeva
happenedthatpeoplewhomethimatthesepartiesdiventassero
becamediscontentedwiththeirownsolicitors,e
andafteraperiodofrestlessnessextricatedthemselvese
andwenttoWilkins.NaturallyMrs.Wilkinswasblottedout.
“She,”
disse
saidhissister,withsomethingherselfofthejudicial,thedigested,e
andthefinalinhermanner,“shouldstayathome.”Ma
ButWilkinscouldnotleavehismoglie
wifeathome.Hewas
un
afamilysolicitor,andallsuchhanno
havewivesandshowthem.Withhisinthe
settimana
weekhewenttoparties,e
andwithhisonSundaysheandava
wenttochurch.Beingstillfairlyyoung—hewasthirty-nine—andambitiousofoldladies,ofwhomhe
aveva
hadnotyetacquiredinhispracticeun
asufficientnumber,hecouldnotaffordtoperdere
misschurch,anditwasthereche
thatMrs.Wilkinsbecamefamiliar,anche se
thoughneverthroughwords,withMrs.Arbuthnot.Shesawhermarshalling
i
thechildrenofthepoorintopews.She
essere
wouldcomeinatthetesta
headoftheprocessionfromtheSundayScuola
Schoolexactlyfiveminutesbeforethechoir,e
andgetherboysandgirlsneatlyfittedintotheirallottedseats,e
anddownontheirlittlekneesintheirpreliminaryprayer,e
andupagainontheirfeetproprio
justas,totheswellingorgan,thevestryporta
dooropened,andthechoire
andclergy,bigwiththelitaniese
andcommandmentstheywerepresentlytorolluscivano
out,emerged.Shehadasad
viso
face,yetshewasevidentlyefficient.ThecombinationusedtomakeMrs.Wilkinswonder,forshehadbeen
detto
toldbyMellersh,ondayswhenshehadsolo
onlybeenabletogetplaice,che
thatifonewereefficientuno
onewouldn’tbedepressed,andche
thatifonedoesone’slavoro
jobwellonebecomesautomaticallybrighte
andbrisk.AboutMrs.Arbuthnottherewas
nulla
nothingbrightandbrisk,thoughmuchinhermodo
waywiththeSundaySchoolbambini
childrenthatwasautomatic;but
quando
whenMrs.Wilkins,turningfromthewindow,caughtsightofherintheclubshewasnotbeingautomaticatall,ma
butwaslookingfixedlyatuna
oneportionofthefirstpageofTheTimes,tenendo
holdingthepaperquitestill,hereyesnotmoving.Shewas
solo
juststaring;andherface,asusual,was
il
thefaceofapatiente
anddisappointedMadonna.Obeyinganimpulseshewonderedateven
mentre
whileobeyingit,Mrs.Wilkins,theshye
andthereluctant,insteadofproceedingassheaveva
hadintendedtothecloakroome
andfromthencetoSchoolbred’sinsearchofMellersh’sfish,fermò
stoppedatthetableandsedette
satdownexactlyoppositeMrs.Arbuthnot,towhomsheaveva
hadneveryetspokeninhervita
life.Itwasoneofthoselong,narrowrefectorytables,so
che
thattheywerequiteclosetoeachother.Mrs.
Arbuthnot,however,didnot
sguardo
lookup.Shecontinuedtogaze,witheyes
che
thatseemedtobedreaming,atun
onespotonlyofTheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkinswatchedher
un
aminute,tryingtoscrewupcouragetospeaktoher.Shewantedtoaskher
se
ifshehadseentheadvertisement.Shedidnot
sapeva
knowwhyshewantedtoaskherquesto
this,butshewantedto.How
stupido
stupidnottobeabletospeaktoher.Shelookedsokind.
Shelookedsounhappy.
Perché
Whycouldn’ttwounhappypeoplerefresheachotherontheirwaythroughquesto
thisdustybusinessoflifebyuna
alittletalk—real,naturaltalk,aboutwhattheysentivano
felt,whattheywouldhaveliked,whattheyancora
stilltriedtohope?Andshecouldnothelp
pensare
thinkingthatMrs.Arbuthnot,too,wasleggendo
readingthatverysameadvertisement.Hereyeswereon
i
theverypartofthepaper.Was
lei
she,too,picturingwhatitwouldbelike—thecolour,thefragrance,theluce
light,thesoftlappingoftheseaamonglittlehotrocks?Colour,fragrance,
luce
light,sea;insteadofShaftesburyAvenue,
e
andthewetomnibuses,andthefishdepartmentatShoolbred’s,e
andtheTubetoHampstead,e
anddinner,andto-morrowthestesso
sameandthedayafterthestesso
sameandalwaysthesame...SuddenlyMrs.Wilkins
trovò
foundherselfleaningacrossthetable.“Areyou
leggendo
readingaboutthemediaevalcastlee
andthewistaria?”sheheardherself
chiedere
asking.NaturallyMrs.Arbuthnotwassurprised;
ma
butshewasnothalfsomuchsurprisedasMrs.Wilkinswasatherselfforchiesto
asking.Mrs.
Arbuthnothadnot
ancora
yettoherknowledgeseteyesonla
theshabby,lank,loosely-put-togetherfigureseduto
sittingoppositeher,withitssmallfreckledfaccia
faceandbiggreyeyesquasi
almostdisappearingunderasmashed-downwet-weatherhat,e
andshegazedatherun
amomentwithoutanswering.Shewasreadingaboutthemediaevalcastle
e
andthewistaria,orratheraveva
hadreadaboutittenminutesprima
before,andsincethenhadbeenlostindreams—ofluce
light,ofcolour,offragrance,ofthesoftlappingoftheseaamonglittlehotrocks...“Whydoyou
chiedi
askmethat?”shesaidinhergravevoice,forhertrainingof
e
andbythepoorhadmadehergravee
andpatient.Mrs.
Wilkinsflushed
e
andlookedexcessivelyshyandfrightened.“Oh,
solo
onlybecauseIsawittoo,e
andIthoughtperhaps—Ithoughtsomehow—”shestammered.
WhereuponMrs.Arbuthnot,her
mente
mindbeingusedtogettingpersone
peopleintolistsanddivisions,fromhabitconsidered,asshegazedthoughtfullyatMrs.Wilkins,sotto
underwhatheading,supposingshehadtoclassifysua
her,shecouldmostproperlybemettere
put.“AndIknowyoubysight,”wentonMrs.Wilkins,
che
who,likealltheshy,volta
onceshewasstartedplungedon,frighteningherselftopiù
moreandmorespeechbythesheersuono
soundofwhatshehaddetto
saidlastinherears.“EverySunday—I
vedo
seeyoueverySundayinchurch—”.“Inchurch?”
echoedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“And
questa
thisseemssuchawonderfulthing—thisadvertisementaboutthewistaria—and—”.Mrs.
Wilkins,
che
whomusthavebeenatalmeno
leastthirty,brokeoffandwriggledinherchairwithil
themovementofanawkwarde
andembarrassedschoolgirl.“Itseemssowonderful,”shewentonin
una
akindofburst,“and—itissuchuna
amiserableday...”E
AndthenshesatlookingatMrs.Arbuthnotwithla
theeyesofanimprisonedcane
dog.“Thispoorthing,”thoughtMrs.Arbuthnot,whose
vita
lifewasspentinhelpinge
andalleviating,“needsadvice.”Sheaccordinglypreparedherselfpatientlytogiveit.
“Ifyou
vedi
seemeinchurch,”shedisse
said,kindlyandattentively,“Isupposeyouabiti
liveinHampsteadtoo?”“Ohyes,”
disse
saidMrs.Wilkins.Andsherepeated,her
testa
headonitslongthinneckdroopingun
alittleasiftherecollectionofHampsteadbowedher,“Ohyes.”“Where?”
chiesto
askedMrs.Arbuthnot,who,whenadvicewasneeded,naturallyprima
firstproceededtocollectthefacts.Ma
ButMrs.Wilkins,layinghermano
handsoftlyandcaressinglyontheparte
partofTheTimeswheretheadvertisementwas,asthoughthemereprintedwordsofitwereprecious,solo
onlysaid,“Perhapsthat’swhyquesto
thisseemssowonderful.”“No—I
penso
thinkthat’swonderfulanyhow,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,dimenticando
forgettingfactsandfaintlysighing.“Thenyouwere
leggendo
readingit?”“Yes,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,hereyesgoingdreamy
di nuovo
again.“Wouldn’titbewonderful?”
murmuredMrs.Wilkins.
“Wonderful,”
disse
saidMrs.Arbuthnot.Herface,
che
whichhadlitup,fadedintopatiencedi nuovo
again.“Verywonderful,”shesaid.
“Butit’s
non
nousewastingone’stimepensare
thinkingofsuchthings.”“Oh,
ma
butitis,”wasMrs.Wilkins’squick,surprisingreply;surprising
perché
becauseitwassomuchunliketheresto
restofher—thecharacterlesscoate
andskirt,thecrumpledhat,theundecidedwispofcapelli
hairstragglingout.“Andjusttheconsideringofthemisworthwhileinitself—sucha
cambiamento
changefromHampstead—andsometimesIbelieve—Idavvero
reallydobelieve—ifoneconsidershardabbastanza
enoughonegetsthings.”Mrs.
Arbuthnotobservedherpatiently.
Inwhatcategorywouldshe,supposingshehadto,
metterebbe
puther?“Perhaps,”shesaid,leaningforward
un
alittle,“youwilltellmeyournome
name.Ifwearetobefriends”—shesmiledhergravesmile—“asIhopewe
siamo
are,wehadbetterbeginatil
thebeginning.”“Ohyes—howkindofyou.
I’mMrs.Wilkins,”
disse
saidMrs.Wilkins.“Idon’texpect,”sheadded,flushing,asMrs.Arbuthnot
diceva
saidnothing,“thatitconveysanythingtoyou.A volte
Sometimesit—itdoesn’tseemtoconveynulla
anythingtomeeither.But”—she
guardò
lookedroundwithamovementofseekinghelp—“IamMrs.Wilkins.”Shedidnotlikeher
nome
name.Itwasamean,
piccolo
smallname,withakindoffacetioustwist,shepensò
thought,aboutitsendliketheupwardcurveofapugdog’stail.Thereitwas,however.
Therewas
non
nodoinganythingwithit.Wilkinsshewas
e
andWilkinsshewouldremain;e
andthoughherhusbandencouragedhertogiveitontutte
alloccasionsasMrs.Mellersh-Wilkinsshesolo
onlydidthatwhenhewaswithinearshot,forshepensava
thoughtMellershmadeWilkinsworse,emphasisingitinthemodo
wayChatsworthonthegate-postsofuna
avillaemphasisesthevilla.Quando
Whenfirsthesuggestedshedovesse
shouldaddMellershshehadobjectedforla
theabovereason,andafterapause—Mellershwasmuchtooprudenttoparlare
speakexceptafterapause,duringwhichpresumablyhewastakingacarefulmentalcopyofhiscomingobservation—hedisse
said,muchdispleased,“ButIamnotavilla,”e
andlookedatherasheguardò
lookswhohopes,forperhapsla
thehundredthtime,thathemaynothavesposato
marriedafool.Ofcoursehewasnot
una
avilla,Mrs.Wilkinsassuredlo
him;shehadneversupposedhewas;
she
aveva
hadnotdreamedofmeaning...shewasonlyjust
pensando
thinking...The
più
moresheexplainedthemoreearnestdiventava
becameMellersh’shope,familiartohimbythistempo
time,forhehadthenbeenamarito
husbandfortwoyears,thathepotesse
mightnotbyanychancehavemarriedafool;e
andtheyhadaprolongedquarrel,ifthatcanbechiamare
calledaquarrelwhichisconductedwithdignifiedsilenceononelato
sideandearnestapologyontheother,astowhethero
ornoMrs.WilkinshadintendedtosuggestthatMr.Wilkinswasavilla.“Ibelieve,”shehad
pensato
thoughtwhenitwasatlastover—ittookun
alongwhile—“thatanybodywouldquarrelsu
aboutanythingwhenthey’venotleftoffbeinginsieme
togetherforasingledayfordue
twowholeyears.Whatwe
entrambi
bothneedisaholiday.”“Myhusband,”wentonMrs.WilkinstoMrs.Arbuthnot,tryingtothrowsome
luce
lightonherself,“isasolicitor.He—”
Shecast
su
aboutforsomethingshecoulddire
sayelucidatoryofMellersh,andtrovato
found:“He’sveryhandsome.”
“Well,”
disse
saidMrs.Arbuthnotkindly,“thatmustbeun
agreatpleasuretoyou.”“Why?”
chiesto
askedMrs.Wilkins.“Because,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,
un
alittletakenaback,forconstantintercoursewiththepoorhadaccustomedhertohaveherpronouncementsacceptedsenza
withoutquestion,“becausebeauty—handsomeness—isagiftcome
likeanyother,andifitisproperlyused—”.Shetrailedoffintosilence.
Mrs.Wilkins’sgreatgreyeyeswerefixedonher,
e
anditseemedsuddenlytoMrs.Arbuthnotche
thatperhapsshewasbecomingcrystallisedintoahabitofexposition,e
andofexpositionafterthemannerofnursemaids,attraverso
throughhavinganaudiencethatcouldn’tbutagree,che
thatwouldbeafraid,ifitwished,tointerrupt,che
thatdidn’tknow,thatwas,infatto
fact,athermercy.ButMrs.Wilkinswasnot
ascoltando
listening;forjustthen,absurdasitseemed,apicturehadflashedacrossherbrain,
e
andthereweretwofiguresinitsittinginsieme
togetherunderagreattrailingwistariache
thatstretchedacrossthebranchesofatreeshedidn’tknow,e
anditwasherselfandMrs.Arbuthnot—shesawthem—shesawthem.E
Andbehindthem,brightinsunshine,wereoldgreywalls—themediaevalcastle—shevide
sawit—theywerethere...ShethereforestaredatMrs.Arbuthnot
e
anddidnothearaparola
wordshesaid.AndMrs.ArbuthnotstaredtooatMrs.Wilkins,arrestedbytheexpressiononher
viso
face,whichwassweptbytheexcitementofwhatshevedeva
saw,andwasasluminouse
andtremulousunderitaswaterinsunlightquando
whenitisruffledbyuna
agustofwind.At
questo
thismoment,ifshehadbeenatuna
aparty,Mrs.Wilkinswouldhavebeenlookedatwithinterest.Theystaredateachother;
Mrs.Arbuthnotsurprised,inquiringly,Mrs.Wilkinswith
la
theeyesofsomeoneche
whohashadarevelation.Ofcourse.
Thatwashowitcouldbe
fare
done.Sheherself,shebyherself,couldn’taffordit,
e
andwouldn’tbeable,evense
ifshecouldaffordit,togothereallalone;ma
butsheandMrs.Arbuthnotinsieme
together...Sheleanedacrossthetable.
“Whydon’twetryandgetit?”
shewhispered.
Mrs.
Arbuthnotbecame
ancora
evenmorewide-eyed.“Getit?”
sherepeated.
“Yes,”
disse
saidMrs.Wilkins,stillasthoughshewereafraidofbeingoverheard.“Notjustsit
qui
hereandsayHowwonderful,e
andthengohometoHampsteadsenza
withouthavingputoutafinger—gocasa
homejustasusualandseeaboutthecena
dinnerandthefishjustaswe’vebeendoingforyearse
andyearsandwillgoondoingforyearse
andyears.Infact,”saidMrs.Wilkins,flushingtotherootsofher
capelli
hair,forthesoundofwhatshewassaying,ofwhatwasvenendo
comingpouringout,frightenedher,andyetshecouldn’tstop,“Ivedo
seenoendtoit.Thereis
non
noendtoit.So
che
thatthereoughttobeuna
abreak,thereoughttobeintervals—ineverybody’sinterests.Why,itwould
davvero
reallybebeingunselfishtogoawaye
andbehappyforalittle,becausewewouldcomebacksomuchnicer.You
vedi
see,afterabiteverybodyneedsaholiday.”“But—howdoyou
dire
mean,getit?”askedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Takeit,”
disse
saidMrs.Wilkins.“Takeit?”