Chapter1
ItbeganinaWoman’s
Club
ClubinLondononaFebruaryafternoon—anuncomfortableclub
club,andamiserableafternoon—whenMrs.Wilkins,whohadcomedownfromHampsteadtoshopandhadlunchedatherclub
club,tookupTheTimesfromthetavolo
tableinthesmoking-room,andrunningherlistlesseyedowntheAgonyColumnsawthis:.ToThosewho
Apprezzano
AppreciateWistariaandSunshine.SmallmediaevalItalianCastleontheshoresoftheMediterraneantobeLetFurnishedforthe
mese
monthofApril.Necessaryservantsremain.
Z,
Scatola
Box1000,TheTimes.Thatwasitsconception;
yet,asinthecaseofmanyanother,theconceiverwasunawareofitatthemoment.
SoentirelyunawarewasMrs.WilkinsthatherAprilforthatyearhadthenandtherebeensettledforherthatshe
cadere
droppedthenewspaperwithagesturethatwasbothirritatedandresigned,andwentovertothefinestra
windowandstareddrearilyoutatthedrippingstreet.Notforherweremediaevalcastles,eventhosethatarespeciallydescribedassmall.
NotforhertheshoresinApriloftheMediterranean,andthewistariaandsunshine.
Suchdelightswereonlyfortherich.
Yettheadvertisementhadbeenaddressedtopersonswho
apprezzano
appreciatethesethings,sothatithadbeen,anyhow,addressedtootoher,forshecertamente
certainlyappreciatedthem;morethananybodyknew;
morethanshehadevertold.
Butshewaspoor.
Inthewholeworldshepossessedofherveryownonlyninetypounds,savedfromyeartoyear,putbycarefullypoundbypound,outofher
vestito
dressallowance.Shehadscrapedthissumtogetheratthesuggestionofherhusbandasashieldandrefugeagainstarainyday.
Her
vestiti
dressallowance,givenherbyherfather,was£100ayear,sothatMrs.Wilkins’svestiti
clotheswerewhatherhusband,urginghertosave,calledmodestandbecoming,andheracquaintancetoeachother,whentheyspokeofheratall,whichwasseldomforshewasverynegligible,calledaperfectsight.Mr.
Wilkins,asolicitor,encouragedthrift,
tranne
exceptthatbranchofitwhichgotintohisfood.Hedidnotcallthatthrift,hecalleditbadhousekeeping.
Butforthethriftwhich,likemoth,penetratedintoMrs.Wilkins’s
vestiti
clothesandspoiltthem,hehadmuchpraise.“Youneverknow,”hesaid,“whentherewillbearainyday,andyoumaybevery
felice
gladtofindyouhaveanest-egg.Indeedwebothmay.”
Lookingoutofthe
club
clubwindowintoShaftesburyAvenue—herswasaneconomicalclub
club,butconvenientforHampstead,whereshelived,andforShoolbred’s,wheresheshopped—Mrs.Wilkins,havingstoodtheresometimeverydrearily,hermind’seyeontheMediterraneaninApril,andthewistaria,andtheenviableopportunitiesoftherich,whileherbodilyeyewatchedthereallyextremelyhorriblesooty
pioggia
rainfallingsteadilyonthehurryingumbrellasandsplashingomnibuses,suddenlychiese
wonderedwhetherperhapsthiswasnottherainydayMellersh—MellershwasMr.Wilkins—hadsooftenencouragedhertopreparefor,andse
whethertogetoutofsuchaclimateandintothesmallmediaevalcastlewasn’tperhapswhatProvidencehadallalongintendedhertodowithhersavings.Partofhersavings,ofcourse;
perhapsquiteasmallpart.
Thecastle,beingmediaeval,mightalsobedilapidated,anddilapidationsweresurelycheap.
Shewouldn’tintheleastmindafewofthem,becauseyoudidn’tpayfordilapidationswhichwerealreadythere;
onthecontrary—byreducingthe
prezzo
priceyouhadtopaytheyreallypaidyou.Butwhatnonsensetothinkofit...
Sheturnedawayfromthe
finestra
windowwiththesamegestureofmingledirritationandresignationwithwhichshehadlaiddownTheTimes,andattraversò
crossedtheroomtowardsthedoorwiththeintentionofgettinghermackintoshandumbrellaandfightingherwayintooneoftheovercrowdedomnibusesandgoingtoShoolbred’sonherwayhomeandbuyingsomesolesforMellersh’sdinner—Mellershwasdifficultwithfishandlikedonlysoles,exceptsalmon—whenshebeheldMrs.Arbuthnot,awomansheknewbysightasalsolivinginHampsteadandbelongingtotheclub,sittingatthetableinthemiddleoftheroomonwhichthenewspapersandmagazineswerekept,absorbed,inherturn,inthefirstpageofTheTimes.Mrs.
WilkinshadneveryetspokentoMrs.Arbuthnot,whobelongedtooneofthevarious
chiesa
churchsets,andwhoanalysed,classified,dividedandregisteredthepoor;whereassheandMellersh,whentheydidgoout,wenttothepartiesofimpressionistpainters,ofwhominHampsteadthereweremany.
MellershhadasisterwhohadmarriedoneofthemandlivedupontheHeath,andbecauseofthisallianceMrs.Wilkinswasdrawnintoacirclewhichwashighlyunnaturaltoher,andshehad
imparato
learnedtodreadpictures.Shehadtosaythingsaboutthem,andshedidn’tknowwhattosay.
Sheusedtomurmur,“Marvellous,”andfeelthatitwasnotenough.
Butnobodyminded.
Nobodylistened.
NobodytookanynoticeofMrs.Wilkins.
Shewasthekindofpersonwhoisnot
notava
noticedatparties.Herclothes,infestedbythrift,madeherpracticallyinvisible;
herfacewasnon-arresting;
herconversationwasreluctant;
shewasshy.
Andifone’s
vestiti
clothesandfaceandconversationareallnegligible,thoughtMrs.Wilkins,whorecognisedherdisabilities,what,atparties,isthereleftofone?AlsoshewasalwayswithWilkins,thatclean-shaven,fine-lookingman,whogaveaparty,merelybycomingtoit,agreatair.
Wilkinswasveryrespectable.
Hewasknowntobehighlythoughtofbyhisseniorpartners.
Hissister’scircleadmiredhim.
Hepronouncedadequatelyintelligentjudgmentsonartandartists.
Hewaspithy;
hewasprudent;
heneversaidawordtoomuch,
né
nor,ontheotherhand,didheeversayawordtoolittle.Heproducedtheimpressionofkeepingcopiesofeverythinghesaid;
andhewasso
ovviamente
obviouslyreliablethatitoftenhappenedthatpeoplewhomethimatthesepartiesbecamediscontentedwiththeirownsolicitors,andafteraperiodofrestlessnessextricatedthemselvesandwenttoWilkins.NaturallyMrs.Wilkinswasblottedout.
“She,”saidhissister,withsomethingherselfofthejudicial,thedigested,andthe
finale
finalinhermanner,“shouldstayathome.”ButWilkinscouldnotleavehiswifeathome.
Hewasafamilysolicitor,andallsuchhavewivesandshowthem.
Withhisintheweekhewenttoparties,andwithhisonSundayshewentto
chiesa
church.Beingstillfairlyyoung—hewasthirty-nine—andambitiousofoldladies,ofwhomhehadnotyetacquiredinhispracticeasufficientnumber,hecouldnotaffordtomiss
chiesa
church,anditwastherethatMrs.Wilkinsbecamefamiliar,thoughneverthroughwords,withMrs.Arbuthnot.Shesawhermarshallingthechildrenofthepoorintopews.
ShewouldcomeinattheheadoftheprocessionfromtheSundaySchoolexactlyfiveminutesbeforethechoir,andgetherboysandgirlsneatlyfittedintotheirallottedseats,anddownontheirlittlekneesintheirpreliminaryprayer,andupagainontheirfeetjustas,totheswellingorgan,thevestrydooropened,andthechoirandclergy,bigwiththelitaniesandcommandmentstheywerepresentlytorollout,emerged.
Shehada
triste
sadface,yetshewasevidentlyefficient.ThecombinationusedtomakeMrs.Wilkins
meravigliare
wonder,forshehadbeentoldbyMellersh,ondayswhenshehadonlybeenabletogetplaice,thatifonewereefficientonewouldn’tbedepressed,andthatifonedoesone’sjobwellonebecomesautomaticallybrightandbrisk.AboutMrs.Arbuthnottherewasnothingbrightandbrisk,thoughmuchinherwaywiththeSundaySchoolchildrenthatwasautomatic;
butwhenMrs.Wilkins,turningfromthe
finestra
window,caughtsightofherintheclub
clubshewasnotbeingautomaticatall,butwaslookingfixedlyatoneportionofthefirstpageofTheTimes,holdingthepaperquitestill,hereyesnotmoving.Shewasjuststaring;
andherface,asusual,wasthefaceofa
paziente
patientanddisappointedMadonna.Obeyinganimpulseshe
meravigliava
wonderedatevenwhileobeyingit,Mrs.Wilkins,theshyandthereluctant,invece
insteadofproceedingasshehadintendedtothecloakroomandfromthencetoSchoolbred’sincerca
searchofMellersh’sfish,stoppedatthetavolo
tableandsatdownexactlyoppositeMrs.Arbuthnot,towhomshehadneveryetspokeninherlife.Itwasoneofthoselong,narrowrefectorytables,sothattheywerequiteclosetoeachother.
Mrs.
Arbuthnot,however,didnotlookup.
She
continuato
continuedtogaze,witheyesthatsembravano
seemedtobedreaming,atonespotonlyofTheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkinswatchedheraminute,tryingtoscrewupcouragetospeaktoher.
Shewantedtoaskherifshehadseentheadvertisement.
Shedidnotknowwhyshewantedtoaskherthis,butshewantedto.
Howstupidnottobeabletospeaktoher.
Shelookedsokind.
Shelookedsounhappy.
Whycouldn’ttwounhappypeoplerefresheachotherontheirwaythroughthisdustybusinessoflifebyalittletalk—real,naturaltalk,aboutwhattheyfelt,whattheywouldhaveliked,whattheystilltriedtohope?
AndshecouldnothelpthinkingthatMrs.Arbuthnot,too,wasreadingthatverysameadvertisement.
Hereyeswereontheverypartofthepaper.
Wasshe,too,
immaginando
picturingwhatitwouldbelike—thecolour,thefragrance,thelight,thesoftlappingofthemare
seaamonglittlehotrocks?Colour,fragrance,light,
mare
sea;insteadofShaftesburyAvenue,andthewetomnibuses,andthe
pesce
fishdepartmentatShoolbred’s,andtheTubetoHampstead,anddinner,andto-morrowthesameandthedayafterthesameandalwaysthesame...SuddenlyMrs.Wilkinsfoundherselfleaningacrossthe
tavolo
table.“Areyoureadingaboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria?”
sheheardherselfasking.
NaturallyMrs.Arbuthnotwassurprised;
butshewasnothalfsomuch
sorpreso
surprisedasMrs.Wilkinswasatherselfforasking.Mrs.
Arbuthnothadnotyettoherknowledgeseteyesontheshabby,lank,loosely-put-together
figura
figuresittingoppositeher,withitssmallfreckledfaceandbiggreyeyesalmostdisappearingunderasmashed-downwet-weatherhat,andshegazedatheramomentwithoutanswering.Shewasreadingaboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria,orratherhadreadaboutittenminutesbefore,andsincethenhadbeenlostindreams—oflight,ofcolour,offragrance,ofthesoftlappingofthe
mare
seaamonglittlehotrocks...“Whydoyouaskmethat?”
shesaidinhergrave
voce
voice,forhertrainingofandbythepoorhadmadehergraveandpaziente
patient.Mrs.
Wilkinsflushedandlookedexcessivelyshyandfrightened.
“Oh,onlybecauseIsawittoo,andIthoughtperhaps—Ithoughtsomehow—”
shestammered.
WhereuponMrs.Arbuthnot,hermindbeingusedtogettingpeopleintolistsanddivisions,fromhabitconsidered,asshegazedthoughtfullyatMrs.Wilkins,underwhatheading,
supponendo
supposingshehadtoclassifyher,shecouldmostproperlybeput.“AndIknowyoubysight,”wentonMrs.Wilkins,who,likealltheshy,onceshewasstartedplungedon,frighteningherselftomoreandmorespeechbythesheersoundofwhatshehadsaidlastinherears.
“EverySunday—IseeyoueverySundayinchurch—”.
“Inchurch?”
echoedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Andthis
sembra
seemssuchawonderfulthing—thisadvertisementaboutthewistaria—and—”.Mrs.
Wilkins,whomusthavebeenatleastthirty,brokeoffandwriggledinherchairwiththemovementofanawkwardandembarrassedschoolgirl.
“Itseemssowonderful,”shewentoninakindofburst,“and—itissuchamiserableday...”
AndthenshesatlookingatMrs.Arbuthnotwiththeeyesofanimprisoneddog.
“Thispoorthing,”thoughtMrs.Arbuthnot,whoselifewasspentinhelpingandalleviating,“needsadvice.”
Sheaccordinglypreparedherselfpatientlytogiveit.
“Ifyouseemeinchurch,”shesaid,kindlyandattentively,“IsupposeyouliveinHampsteadtoo?”
“Ohyes,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
Andsherepeated,herheadonitslongthin
collo
neckdroopingalittleasiftherecollectionofHampsteadbowedher,“Ohyes.”“Where?”
askedMrs.Arbuthnot,who,whenadvicewasneeded,naturallyfirstproceededtocollectthefacts.
ButMrs.Wilkins,layingherhandsoftlyandcaressinglyonthepartofTheTimeswheretheadvertisementwas,asthoughthemereprintedwordsofitwereprecious,onlysaid,“Perhapsthat’swhythis
sembra
seemssowonderful.”“No—Ithinkthat’s
meraviglioso
wonderfulanyhow,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,forgettingfactsandfaintlysighing.“Thenyouwerereadingit?”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,hereyesgoingdreamyagain.
“Wouldn’titbewonderful?”
murmuredMrs.Wilkins.
“Wonderful,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot.
Herface,whichhadlitup,fadedintopatienceagain.
“Verywonderful,”shesaid.
“Butit’snouse
sprecare
wastingone’stimethinkingofsuchthings.”“Oh,butitis,”wasMrs.Wilkins’squick,
sorprendente
surprisingreply;surprisingbecauseitwassomuchunliketherestofher—thecharacterlesscoatandskirt,thecrumpledhat,theundecidedwispofhairstragglingout.
“Andjusttheconsideringofthemis
vale
worthwhileinitself—suchachangefromHampstead—andsometimesIbelieve—Ireallydobelieve—ifoneconsidershardenoughonegetsthings.”Mrs.
Arbuthnotobservedherpatiently.
Inwhatcategorywouldshe,
supponendo
supposingshehadto,puther?“Perhaps,”shesaid,leaningforwardalittle,“youwilltellmeyourname.
Ifwearetobefriends”—she
sorriso
smiledhergravesmile—“asIhopeweare,wehadbettercominciare
beginatthebeginning.”“Ohyes—howkindofyou.
I’mMrs.Wilkins,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
“Idon’texpect,”sheadded,flushing,asMrs.Arbuthnotsaidnothing,“thatitconveysanythingtoyou.
Sometimesit—itdoesn’t
sembra
seemtoconveyanythingtomeeither.But”—shelookedroundwithamovementofseekinghelp—“IamMrs.Wilkins.”
Shedidnotlikehername.
Itwasamean,smallname,withakindoffacetioustwist,shethought,aboutitsendliketheupwardcurveofapugdog’stail.
Thereitwas,however.
Therewasnodoinganythingwithit.
WilkinsshewasandWilkinsshewouldremain;
andthoughherhusbandencouragedhertogiveitonalloccasionsasMrs.Mellersh-Wilkinssheonlydidthatwhenhewaswithinearshot,forshethoughtMellershmadeWilkinsworse,emphasisingitinthewayChatsworthonthegate-postsofavillaemphasisesthevilla.
WhenfirsthesuggestedsheshouldaddMellershshehadobjectedforthe
sopra
abovereason,andafterapause—Mellershwasmuchtooprudenttospeaktranne
exceptafterapause,duringwhichpresumablyhewastakingacarefulmentalcopyofhiscomingobservation—hesaid,muchdispleased,“ButIamnotavilla,”andlookedatherashelookswhohopes,forperhapsthehundredthtime,thathemaynothavemarriedafool.Ofcoursehewasnotavilla,Mrs.Wilkinsassuredhim;
shehadneversupposedhewas;
shehadnotdreamedofmeaning...
shewasonlyjustthinking...
Themoreshe
spiegava
explainedthemoreearnestbecameMellersh’shope,familiartohimbythistime,forhehadthenbeenahusbandfortwoyears,thathemightnotbyanychancehavemarriedafool;andtheyhadaprolongedquarrel,ifthatcanbecalledaquarrelwhichisconductedwithdignifiedsilenceononesideandearnestapologyontheother,astowhetherornoMrs.WilkinshadintendedtosuggestthatMr.Wilkinswasavilla.
“Ibelieve,”shehadthoughtwhenitwasatlastover—ittookalongwhile—“thatanybodywouldquarrelaboutanythingwhenthey’venotleftoffbeingtogetherforasingledayfortwowholeyears.
Whatwebothneedisaholiday.”
“Myhusband,”wentonMrs.WilkinstoMrs.Arbuthnot,tryingtothrowsomelightonherself,“isasolicitor.
He—”
ShecastaboutforsomethingshecouldsayelucidatoryofMellersh,andfound:
“He’sveryhandsome.”
“Well,”saidMrs.Arbuthnotkindly,“thatmustbeagreat
piacere
pleasuretoyou.”“Why?”
askedMrs.Wilkins.
“Because,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,alittletakenaback,forconstantintercoursewiththepoorhadaccustomedhertohaveherpronouncements
accettare
acceptedwithoutquestion,“becausebeauty—handsomeness—isadono
giftlikeanyother,andifitisproperlyused—”.Shetrailedoffintosilence.
Mrs.Wilkins’sgreatgreyeyeswerefixedonher,andit
sembrò
seemedsuddenlytoMrs.Arbuthnotthatperhapsshewasbecomingcrystallisedintoahabitofexposition,andofexpositionafterthemannerofnursemaids,throughhavinganaudiencethatcouldn’tbutagree,thatwouldbeafraid,ifitwished,tointerrupt,thatdidn’tknow,thatwas,infact,athermercy.ButMrs.Wilkinswasnotlistening;
forjustthen,absurdasit
sembrasse
seemed,apicturehadflashedacrossherbrain,andthereweretwofiguresinitsittingtogetherunderagreattrailingwistariathatstretchedacrossthebranchesofaalbero
treeshedidn’tknow,anditwasherselfandMrs.Arbuthnot—shesawthem—shesawthem.Andbehindthem,brightinsunshine,wereoldgreywalls—themediaevalcastle—shesawit—theywerethere...
ShethereforestaredatMrs.Arbuthnotanddidnothearawordshesaid.
AndMrs.ArbuthnotstaredtooatMrs.Wilkins,arrestedbytheexpressiononherface,whichwassweptbytheexcitementofwhatshesaw,andwasasluminousandtremulousunderitaswaterinsunlightwhenitisruffledbyagustof
vento
wind.Atthismoment,ifshehadbeenataparty,Mrs.Wilkinswouldhavebeenlookedatwith
interesse
interest.Theystaredateachother;
Mrs.Arbuthnot
sorpreso
surprised,inquiringly,Mrs.Wilkinswiththeeyesofsomeonewhohashadarevelation.Ofcourse.
Thatwashowitcouldbedone.
Sheherself,shebyherself,couldn’taffordit,andwouldn’tbeable,evenifshecouldaffordit,togothereallalone;
butsheandMrs.Arbuthnottogether...
Sheleanedacrossthe
tavolo
table.“Whydon’twetryandgetit?”
shewhispered.
Mrs.
Arbuthnotbecameevenmorewide-eyed.
“Getit?”
sherepeated.
“Yes,”saidMrs.Wilkins,stillasthoughshewereafraidofbeingoverheard.
“NotjustsithereandsayHowwonderful,andthengohometoHampsteadwithouthavingputoutafinger—gohomejustasusualandseeaboutthedinnerandthe
pesce
fishjustaswe’vebeendoingforyearsandyearsandwillgoondoingforyearsandyears.Infact,”saidMrs.Wilkins,flushingtotherootsofherhair,forthesoundofwhatshewassaying,ofwhatwascomingpouringout,frightenedher,andyetshecouldn’tstop,“Iseenoendtoit.
Thereisnoendtoit.
Sothatthereoughttobeabreak,thereoughttobeintervals—ineverybody’sinterests.
Why,itwouldreallybebeingunselfishtogoawayandbehappyforalittle,becausewewouldcomebacksomuchnicer.
Yousee,afterabiteverybodyneedsaholiday.”
“But—howdoyoumean,getit?”
askedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Takeit,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
“Takeit?”