CHAPTERI
IfithadnotrainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.
Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofher
clan
clan,toAuntWellington’sengagementpicnic
picnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.Butitdidrainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.
Valancywakenedearly,inthe
senza vita
lifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,inacommunityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplythosewhohavefailedtogetaman.
DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancyto
senza speranza
hopelessoldmaidenhood.ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethat
Romanzo
Romancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.Ay,therelaythesting.
Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeas
terribile
dreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.
Shedarednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.
Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheheart.
Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherworsethananyshehadhadyet.
Andshewasafraidhermotherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.
“Suppose,”thoughtValancywitha
orribile
ghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththesemplice
plaintruth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”
Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehadasenseofhumournobodyinher
clan
clansuspected.Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasvery
superficiale
superficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,inutile
futilelittlefigure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-paintedfloor,withone
orribile
hideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,withagrottesco
grotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwayssorrideva
grinningatherwhensheawoke;thefaded,dark-redpaper;
the
soffitto
ceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;the
stretto
narrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;thebrown-paperlambrequinwith
viola
purplerosesonit;thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppeduponthe
inadeguato
inadequatedressing-table;thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythical
luna di miele
honeymoon;theshell-coveredbox,withone
scoppiato
burstcorner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbead
frangia
fringegone;theonestiff,yellowchair;
the
sbiadito
fadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’scupo
grimoldface;theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtheroomsbelow.
Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofa
cucciolo
puppysittingonarainyporta
doorstep.ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.
Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthe
porta
doorstepinthedrivingrain!Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theotherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdownastairway,whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronher
decimo
tenthbirthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedQueenLouise.
Butsheneverdareddestroyitorremoveit.
MotherandCousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.
Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewere
permesso
permitted.Buthermotherhadnegativedevery
timido
timidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersisteva
persist.Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsulted
duchessa
duchess.TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnighttocryifshewantedto.
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?
Valancywasnever
permesso
permittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingandCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsome
sinistro
sinisterpurpose.ButherroomintheBlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.
Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.
NobodyintheStirling
clan
clan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherandCousinStickles.TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyred
di mattoni
brickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlueCastleinSpain.ValancyhadlivedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.
Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeit
chiaramente
plainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitsdebole
faint,blueloveliness,againstthetramonto
sunsetskiesofafairandunknownland.Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthaveworn;
robesof
luna
moonlightandfire;couchesofrosesandgold;
longflightsofshallow
marmo
marblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthat
riflettevano
reflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,forwhosesguardo
glancemendied.Allthatsupportedherthroughthe
noia
boredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedof
orrore
horroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinherBlueCastle.Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlong
devozione
devotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircostanza
circumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungcappella
chapeloftheBlueCastle.Attwelve,thisloverwasafair
ragazzo
ladwithgoldencurlsandcelesti
heavenlyblueeyes.Atfifteen,hewastallanddarkand
pallido
pale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,
sognante
dreamy,spiritual.Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cut
mascella
jaw,slightlygrim,andafacestrongandruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedsmileanda
misterioso
mysteriouspast.Idon’tsayValancy
deliberatamente
deliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.Onesimplyfadedawayasanothercame.
ThingsareveryconvenientinthisrespectinBlueCastles.
But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,ValancycouldnotfindthekeyofherBlueCastle.
Realitypressedonhertoohardly,
abbaiando
barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsome
clan
clan,withnopastandnofuture.Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesingle
cremisi
crimsonorpurplespotanywhere.Asfarasshecouldlookforwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbuta
solitario
solitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.Themomentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdeath.
“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasraining.
Therewouldbeno
picnic
picnicthatday.Thisannual
picnic
picnic,wherebyAuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirfidanzamento
engagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasherbirthdayand,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.
Muchasshehatedgoingtothe
picnic
picnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.Thereseemedtobenothingofthe
rivoluzionario
revolutionaryinhernature.Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthe
picnic
picnic.UncleWellington,whomshedislikedand
disprezzava
despisedeventhoughhehadsoddisfatto
fulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’ssussurro
whisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariably
concluso
concludedhisdullremarks.AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedletter.
ValancywouldhavetolookaspleasedandinterestedasifthedressandletterhadbeenhersorelseAuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.
AndValancyhadlongagodecidedthatshewouldrather
offendere
offendGodthanAuntWellington,becauseGodmightforgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiable
abitudine
habitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatbeautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowskin—.“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmyskinwasrosesandcream.
IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”
Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.
Handsome,
solenne
solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbutrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforetheclan
clanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmo
sarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“WhatisthedifferencebetweenDossandamouse?
“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishesto
affascinare
charmthehe’s.”Valancyhadheardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedtothrowsomethingathim.
Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnotthrowthings;
inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasa
ricco
wealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefearandadmonitionofhismoney.Ifshe
offendeva
offendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegalling
amarezza
bitternessofit.Soshe
sopportato
enduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnot
prevedere
predictjusthow,forAuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.
Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelast
picnic
picnicandwonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”Oppressively
competente
competent,AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.Forthesamereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,accordingtothe
rigoroso
strictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitivedisposizione
disposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirling
clan
clan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popolarità
popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbeautyandpresumeonherpopolarità
popularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,invidiosi
enviouseyes.Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.
Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyandCousinStickles.
Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromAuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.
Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
ItsghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamily
festa
feast.Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthe
picnic
picnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedtherainthathadsavedherfromit.Therewouldbeno
picnic
picnicthisyear.IfAuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthe
sacro
sacreddayitselfshewouldhavenocelebrazione
celebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbeno
picnic
picnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,iftherainheldupintheafternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothe
bibliotecario
librariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—under
protesta
protest,foritwasonlytooevidente
evidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadto
migliorare
improveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwaspiacevole
enjoyablewasdangerous.Valancydidnotknowwhetherhermindwasbeing
migliorando
improvedornot;butshefelt
vagamente
vaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.Theyseemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernow.
ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthe
bibliotecario
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—some
accenno
hintofagreatsecretjustalittlefurtheron—somedebole
faint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
ItwasamonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.
Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpainaroundtheheart.
Ithadcomeratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofan
occasionale
occasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.
Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.
And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.
Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”
AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“so
pizzicato
pinchedandpeakedalways”;andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonal
insulto
insult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectly
udibile
audibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethat
implicava
impliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;andOlive—Olivewould
semplicemente
merelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.
Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatallseriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshementionedit.
ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhisbill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthebankforherthedayshewasborn.
Shewasneverallowedtouseeventheinterestofthis,butshewould
segretamente
secretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.
Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretiresoon.
NoneoftheStirling
clan
clanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwho
insultato
insultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglicanchurch.Capitolo
CHAPTERIIWhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsevenandshemustgetup.
Aslongasshecouldremember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastseven.
CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsinceseven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamily
tradizione
traditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.