Chapter1
ItbeganinaWoman’sClubinLondononaFebruaryafternoon—anuncomfortableclub,andamiserableafternoon—whenMrs.Wilkins,whohadcomedownfromHampsteadto
handle
shopandhadlunchedatherclub,tookupTheTimesfromthebordet
tableinthesmoking-room,andrunningherlistlessøye
eyedowntheAgonyColumnsawthis:.ToThosewhoAppreciateWistariaandSunshine.
SmallmediaevalItalianCastleontheshoresoftheMediterraneantobeLetFurnishedforthemonthofApril.
Necessaryservantsremain.
Z,
Boks
Box1000,TheTimes.Thatwasitsconception;
yet,asinthecaseofmanyanother,theconceiverwasunawareofitatthemoment.
SoentirelyunawarewasMrs.WilkinsthatherAprilforthatyearhadthenandtherebeensettledforherthatshe
droppet
droppedthenewspaperwithagesturethatwasbothirritatedandresigned,andwentovertothevinduet
windowandstareddrearilyoutatthedrippingstreet.Notforherweremediaevalcastles,eventhosethatarespeciallydescribedassmall.
NotforhertheshoresinApriloftheMediterranean,andthewistariaandsunshine.
Suchdelightswereonlyforthe
rike
rich.Yettheadvertisementhadbeenaddressedtopersonswhoappreciatethesethings,sothatithadbeen,anyhow,addressedtootoher,forshe
sikkert
certainlyappreciatedthem;morethananybodyknew;
morethanshehadevertold.
Butshewaspoor.
Inthewholeworldshepossessedofherveryownonlyninetypounds,savedfromyeartoyear,putbycarefullypoundbypound,outofherdressallowance.
Shehadscrapedthissumtogetheratthesuggestionofherhusbandasashieldandrefugeagainstarainyday.
Herdressallowance,givenherbyherfather,was£100ayear,sothatMrs.Wilkins’s
klær
clotheswerewhatherhusband,urginghertosave,calledmodestandbecoming,andheracquaintancetoeachother,whentheyspokeofheratall,whichwasseldomforshewasverynegligible,calledaperfectsight.Mr.
Wilkins,asolicitor,encouragedthrift,
bortsett fra
exceptthatbranchofitwhichgotintohisfood.Hedidnotcallthatthrift,hecalleditbadhousekeeping.
Butforthethriftwhich,likemoth,penetratedintoMrs.Wilkins’s
klær
clothesandspoiltthem,hehadmuchpraise.“Youneverknow,”hesaid,“whentherewillbearainyday,andyoumaybevery
glad
gladtofindyouhaveanest-egg.Indeedwebothmay.”
Lookingoutoftheclub
vinduet
windowintoShaftesburyAvenue—herswasaneconomicalclub,butconvenientforHampstead,whereshelived,andforShoolbred’s,wheresheshopped—Mrs.Wilkins,havingstoodtheresometimeverydrearily,hermind’s
øye
eyeontheMediterraneaninApril,andthewistaria,andtheenviableopportunitiesoftherike
rich,whileherbodilyeyewatchedthereallyextremelyhorriblesootyrainfallingsteadilyonthehurryingumbrellasandsplashingomnibuses,plutselig
suddenlywonderedwhetherperhapsthiswasnottherainydayMellersh—MellershwasMr.Wilkins—hadsoofte
oftenencouragedhertopreparefor,andom
whethertogetoutofsuchaclimateandintothesmallmediaevalcastlewasn’tperhapswhatProvidencehadallalongintendedhertodowithhersavings.Partofhersavings,ofcourse;
perhapsquiteasmallpart.
Thecastle,beingmediaeval,mightalsobedilapidated,anddilapidationsweresurelycheap.
Shewouldn’tintheleastmindafewofthem,becauseyoudidn’tpayfordilapidationswhichwerealreadythere;
onthecontrary—byreducingthepriceyouhadtopaytheyreallypaidyou.
Butwhatnonsensetothinkofit...
Sheturnedawayfromthe
vinduet
windowwiththesamegestureofmingledirritationandresignationwithwhichshehadlaiddownTheTimes,andkrysset
crossedtheroomtowardsthedoorwiththeintentionofgettinghermackintoshandumbrellaandfightingherwayintooneoftheovercrowdedomnibusesandgoingtoShoolbred’sonherwayhomeandbuyingsomesolesforMellersh’sdinner—Mellershwasvanskelig
difficultwithfishandlikedonlysoles,bortsett fra
exceptsalmon—whenshebeheldMrs.Arbuthnot,awomansheknewbysightasalsolivinginHampsteadandbelongingtotheklubben
club,sittingatthetableinthemidten
middleoftheroomonwhichthenewspapersandmagazineswerekept,absorbed,inherturn,inthefirstpageofTheTimes.Mrs.
WilkinshadneveryetspokentoMrs.Arbuthnot,whobelongedtooneofthevarious
kirke
churchsets,andwhoanalysed,classified,dividedandregisteredthepoor;whereassheandMellersh,whentheydidgoout,wenttothepartiesofimpressionistpainters,ofwhominHampsteadthereweremany.
MellershhadasisterwhohadmarriedoneofthemandlivedupontheHeath,andbecauseofthisallianceMrs.Wilkinswasdrawnintoacirclewhichwashighlyunnaturaltoher,andshehadlearnedtodreadpictures.
Shehadtosaythingsaboutthem,andshedidn’tknowwhattosay.
Sheusedtomurmur,“Marvellous,”andfeelthatitwasnotenough.
Butnobodyminded.
Nobodylistened.
NobodytookanynoticeofMrs.Wilkins.
Shewasthekindofpersonwhoisnot
merke
noticedatparties.Herclothes,infestedbythrift,madeherpracticallyinvisible;
herfacewasnon-arresting;
herconversationwasreluctant;
shewasshy.
Andifone’s
klær
clothesandfaceandconversationareallnegligible,thoughtMrs.Wilkins,whorecognisedherdisabilities,what,atparties,isthereleftofone?AlsoshewasalwayswithWilkins,thatclean-shaven,fine-lookingman,whogaveaparty,merelybycomingtoit,agreatair.
Wilkinswasveryrespectable.
Hewasknowntobehighlythoughtofbyhisseniorpartners.
Hissister’scircleadmiredhim.
Hepronouncedadequatelyintelligentjudgmentson
kunst
artandartists.Hewaspithy;
hewasprudent;
heneversaidawordtoomuch,
heller
nor,ontheotherhand,didheeversayawordtoolittle.Heproducedtheimpressionofkeepingcopiesofeverythinghesaid;
andhewasso
åpenbart
obviouslyreliablethatitoftenhappenedthatpeoplewhomethimatthesepartiesbecamediscontentedwiththeirownsolicitors,andafteraperiodofrestlessnessextricatedthemselvesandwenttoWilkins.NaturallyMrs.Wilkinswasblottedout.
“She,”saidhissister,withsomethingherselfofthejudicial,thedigested,andthe
endelige
finalinhermanner,“shouldstayathome.”ButWilkinscouldnotleavehiswifeathome.
Hewasafamilysolicitor,andallsuchhavewivesandshowthem.
Withhisintheweekhewenttoparties,andwithhisonSundayshewentto
kirken
church.Beingstillfairlyyoung—hewasthirty-nine—andambitiousofoldladies,ofwhomhehadnotyetacquiredinhis
praksis
practiceasufficientnumber,hecouldnotaffordtomisskirken
church,anditwastherethatMrs.Wilkinsbecamefamiliar,thoughneverthroughwords,withMrs.Arbuthnot.Shesawhermarshallingthechildrenofthepoorintopews.
ShewouldcomeinattheheadoftheprocessionfromtheSundaySchoolexactlyfiveminutesbeforethechoir,andgetherboysandgirlsneatlyfittedintotheirallottedseats,anddownontheirlittlekneesintheirpreliminaryprayer,andupagainontheirfeetjustas,totheswellingorgan,thevestrydooropened,andthechoirandclergy,bigwiththelitaniesandcommandmentstheywerepresentlyto
rulle
rollout,emerged.Shehada
trist
sadface,yetshewasevidentlyefficient.ThecombinationusedtomakeMrs.Wilkins
undre
wonder,forshehadbeentoldbyMellersh,ondayswhenshehadonlybeenabletogetplaice,thatifonewereefficientonewouldn’tbedepressed,andthatifonedoesone’sjobwellonebecomesautomaticallybrightandbrisk.AboutMrs.Arbuthnottherewasnothingbrightandbrisk,thoughmuchinherwaywiththeSundaySchoolchildrenthatwasautomatic;
butwhenMrs.Wilkins,turningfromthe
vinduet
window,caughtsightofherintheklubben
clubshewasnotbeingautomaticatall,butwaslookingfixedlyatoneportionofthefirstpageofTheTimes,holdingthepaperquitestill,hereyesnotmoving.Shewasjuststaring;
andherface,asusual,wasthefaceofa
tålmodig
patientanddisappointedMadonna.Obeyinganimpulseshewonderedatevenwhileobeyingit,Mrs.Wilkins,theshyandthereluctant,insteadofproceedingasshehadintendedtothecloakroomandfromthencetoSchoolbred’sinsearchofMellersh’s
fisk
fish,stoppedatthetableandsatdownexactlyoppositeMrs.Arbuthnot,towhomshehadneveryetspokeninherlife.Itwasoneofthoselong,narrowrefectorytables,sothattheywerequiteclosetoeachother.
Mrs.
Arbuthnot,
imidlertid
however,didnotlookup.She
fortsatte
continuedtogaze,witheyesthatsyntes
seemedtobedreaming,atonested
spotonlyofTheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkinswatchedheraminute,tryingto
skru
screwupcouragetospeaktoher.Shewantedtoaskherifshehadseentheadvertisement.
Shedidnotknowwhyshewantedtoaskherthis,butshewantedto.
Howstupidnottobeabletospeaktoher.
Shelookedsokind.
Shelookedsounhappy.
Whycouldn’ttwounhappypeoplerefresheachotherontheirwaythroughthisdustybusinessoflifebyalittletalk—real,naturaltalk,aboutwhattheyfelt,whattheywouldhaveliked,whattheystilltriedtohope?
AndshecouldnothelpthinkingthatMrs.Arbuthnot,too,wasreadingthatverysameadvertisement.
Hereyeswereontheverypartofthepaper.
Wasshe,too,picturingwhatitwouldbelike—thecolour,thefragrance,thelight,thesoftlappingofthe
havet
seaamonglittlehotrocks?Colour,fragrance,light,
hav
sea;insteadofShaftesburyAvenue,andthewetomnibuses,andthefishdepartmentatShoolbred’s,andtheTubetoHampstead,anddinner,andto-morrowthesameandthedayafterthesameandalwaysthesame...
Plutselig
SuddenlyMrs.Wilkinsfoundherselfleaningover
acrossthetable.“Areyoureadingaboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria?”
sheheardherselfasking.
NaturallyMrs.Arbuthnotwassurprised;
butshewasnothalfsomuchsurprisedasMrs.Wilkinswasatherselfforasking.
Mrs.
Arbuthnothadnotyettoherknowledgeseteyesontheshabby,lank,loosely-put-togetherfiguresittingoppositeher,withitssmallfreckledfaceandbiggreyeyesalmostdisappearingunderasmashed-downwet-weatherhat,andshegazedatheramomentwithoutanswering.
Shewasreadingaboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria,orratherhadreadaboutittenminutesbefore,andsincethenhadbeenlostindreams—oflight,ofcolour,offragrance,ofthesoftlappingofthe
havet
seaamonglittlehotrocks...“Whydoyouaskmethat?”
shesaidinhergrave
stemme
voice,forhertrainingofandbythepoorhadmadehergraveandtålmodig
patient.Mrs.
Wilkinsflushedandlookedexcessivelyshyandfrightened.
“Oh,onlybecauseIsawittoo,andIthoughtperhaps—Ithoughtsomehow—”
shestammered.
WhereuponMrs.Arbuthnot,hermindbeingusedtogettingpeopleintolistsanddivisions,fromhabitconsidered,asshegazedthoughtfullyatMrs.Wilkins,underwhatheading,supposingshehadtoclassifyher,shecouldmostproperlybeput.
“AndIknowyoubysight,”wentonMrs.Wilkins,who,likealltheshy,onceshewasstartedplungedon,frighteningherselftomoreandmorespeechbythesheersoundofwhatshehadsaidlastinherears.
“EverySunday—IseeyoueverySundayinchurch—”.
“Inchurch?”
echoedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Andthis
virker
seemssuchawonderfulthing—thisadvertisementaboutthewistaria—and—”.Mrs.
Wilkins,whomusthavebeenatleastthirty,brokeoffandwriggledinherchairwiththemovementofanawkwardandembarrassedschoolgirl.
“It
virker
seemssowonderful,”shewentoninakindofburst,“and—itissuchamiserableday...”AndthenshesatlookingatMrs.Arbuthnotwiththeeyesofanimprisoneddog.
“Thispoorthing,”thoughtMrs.Arbuthnot,
hvis
whoselifewasspentinhelpingandalleviating,“needsadvice.”Sheaccordinglypreparedherselfpatientlytogiveit.
“Ifyouseemeinchurch,”shesaid,kindlyandattentively,“IsupposeyouliveinHampsteadtoo?”
“Ohyes,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
Andsherepeated,herheadonitslongthin
nakke
neckdroopingalittleasiftherecollectionofHampsteadbowedher,“Ohyes.”“Where?”
askedMrs.Arbuthnot,who,whenadvicewasneeded,naturallyfirstproceededtocollectthefacts.
ButMrs.Wilkins,
legger
layingherhandsoftlyandcaressinglyonthepartofTheTimeswheretheadvertisementwas,asthoughthemereprintedwordsofitwereprecious,onlysaid,“Perhapsthat’swhythisvirker
seemssowonderful.”“No—Ithinkthat’s
vidunderlig
wonderfulanyhow,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,forgettingfactsandfaintlysighing.“Thenyouwerereadingit?”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,hereyesgoingdreamyagain.
“Wouldn’titbewonderful?”
murmuredMrs.Wilkins.
“Wonderful,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot.
Herface,whichhadlitup,fadedintopatienceagain.
“Verywonderful,”shesaid.
“Butit’snousewastingone’stimethinkingofsuchthings.”
“Oh,butitis,”wasMrs.Wilkins’s
raske
quick,surprisingreply;surprisingbecauseitwassomuchunliketherestofher—thecharacterlesscoatandskirt,thecrumpledhat,theundecidedwispofhairstragglingout.
“Andjusttheconsideringofthemis
verdt
worthwhileinitself—suchachangefromHampstead—andsometimesIbelieve—Ireallydobelieve—ifoneconsidershardenoughonegetsthings.”Mrs.
Arbuthnotobservedherpatiently.
Inwhatcategorywouldshe,supposingshehadto,puther?
“Perhaps,”shesaid,leaning
fremover
forwardalittle,“youwilltellmeyourname.Ifwearetobefriends”—shesmiledhergravesmile—“asIhopeweare,wehadbetter
begynne
beginatthebeginning.”“Ohyes—howkindofyou.
I’mMrs.Wilkins,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
“Idon’texpect,”sheadded,flushing,asMrs.Arbuthnotsaidnothing,“thatitconveysanythingtoyou.
Sometimesit—itdoesn’tseemtoconveyanythingtomeeither.
But”—shelooked
rundt
roundwithamovementofseekinghelp—“IamMrs.Wilkins.”Shedidnotlikehername.
Itwasamean,smallname,withakindoffacetioustwist,shethought,aboutitsendliketheupwardcurveofapugdog’stail.
Thereitwas,
imidlertid
however.Therewasnodoinganythingwithit.
WilkinsshewasandWilkinsshewouldremain;
andthoughherhusbandencouragedhertogiveitonalloccasionsasMrs.Mellersh-Wilkinssheonlydidthatwhenhewaswithinearshot,forshethoughtMellershmadeWilkins
verre
worse,emphasisingitinthewayChatsworthonthegate-postsofavillaemphasisesthevilla.WhenfirsthesuggestedsheshouldaddMellershshehadobjectedforthe
ovennevnte
abovereason,andafterapause—Mellershwasmuchtooprudenttospeakexceptafterapause,duringwhichpresumablyhewastakingacarefulmentalcopyofhiscomingobservation—hesaid,muchdispleased,“ButIamnotavilla,”andlookedatherashelookswhohopes,forperhapsthehundredthtime,thathemaynothavemarriedafool.Ofcoursehewasnotavilla,Mrs.Wilkinsassuredhim;
shehadnever
antatt
supposedhewas;shehadnotdreamedofmeaning...
shewasonlyjustthinking...
Themoreshe
forklarte
explainedthemoreearnestbecameMellersh’shope,familiartohimbythistime,forhehadthenbeenahusbandfortwoyears,thathemightnotbyanychancehavemarriedafool;andtheyhadaprolongedquarrel,ifthatcanbecalledaquarrelwhichisconductedwithdignifiedsilenceononesideandearnestapologyontheother,astowhetherornoMrs.WilkinshadintendedtosuggestthatMr.Wilkinswasavilla.
“Ibelieve,”shehadthoughtwhenitwasatlastover—ittookalongwhile—“thatanybodywouldquarrelaboutanythingwhenthey’venotleftoffbeingtogetherfora
enkelt
singledayfortwowholeyears.Whatwebothneedisaholiday.”
“Myhusband,”wentonMrs.WilkinstoMrs.Arbuthnot,tryingto
kaste
throwsomelightonherself,“isasolicitor.He—”
ShecastaboutforsomethingshecouldsayelucidatoryofMellersh,andfound:
“He’sveryhandsome.”
“Well,”saidMrs.Arbuthnotkindly,“thatmustbeagreat
glede
pleasuretoyou.”“Why?”
askedMrs.Wilkins.
“Because,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,alittletakenaback,forconstantintercoursewiththepoorhadaccustomedhertohaveherpronouncements
akseptert
acceptedwithoutquestion,“becausebeauty—handsomeness—isagave
giftlikeanyother,andifitisproperlyused—”.Shetrailedoffintosilence.
Mrs.Wilkins’sgreatgreyeyeswerefixedonher,andit
virket
seemedsuddenlytoMrs.Arbuthnotthatperhapsshewasbecomingcrystallisedintoahabitofexposition,andofexpositionafterthemannerofnursemaids,throughhavinganaudiencethatcouldn’tbutenig
agree,thatwouldbeafraid,ifitwished,tointerrupt,thatdidn’tknow,thatwas,infact,athermercy.ButMrs.Wilkinswasnotlistening;
forjustthen,absurdasit
virket
seemed,apicturehadflashedover
acrossherbrain,andthereweretwofiguresinitsittingtogetherunderagreattrailingwistariathatstretchedover
acrossthebranchesofatre
treeshedidn’tknow,anditwasherselfandMrs.Arbuthnot—shesawthem—shesawthem.Andbehindthem,brightinsunshine,wereoldgreywalls—themediaevalcastle—shesawit—theywerethere...
ShethereforestaredatMrs.Arbuthnotanddidnothearawordshesaid.
AndMrs.ArbuthnotstaredtooatMrs.Wilkins,
arrestert
arrestedbytheexpressiononherface,whichwassweptbytheexcitementofwhatshesaw,andwasasluminousandtremulousunderitaswaterinsunlightwhenitisruffledbyagustofwind.Atthismoment,ifshehadbeenataparty,Mrs.Wilkinswouldhavebeenlookedatwith
interesse
interest.Theystaredateachother;
Mrs.Arbuthnotsurprised,inquiringly,Mrs.Wilkinswiththeeyesofsomeonewhohashadarevelation.
Ofcourse.
Thatwashowitcouldbedone.
Sheherself,shebyherself,couldn’taffordit,andwouldn’tbeable,evenifshecouldaffordit,togothereallalone;
butsheandMrs.Arbuthnottogether...
Sheleaned
over
acrossthetable.“Whydon’twetryandgetit?”
shewhispered.
Mrs.
Arbuthnotbecameevenmorewide-eyed.
“Getit?”
sherepeated.
“Yes,”saidMrs.Wilkins,stillasthoughshewereafraidofbeingoverheard.
“NotjustsithereandsayHowwonderful,andthengohometoHampsteadwithouthavingputoutafinger—gohomejustasusualandseeaboutthedinnerandthefishjustaswe’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?”