Chapter1
ItbeganinaWoman’s
Clube
ClubinLondononaFebruaryafternoon—anuncomfortableclube
club,andamiserableafternoon—whenMrs.Wilkins,whohadcomedownfromHampsteadtofazer compras
shopandhadlunchedatherclube
club,tookupTheTimesfromthemesa
tableinthesmoking-room,andrunningherlistlessolho
eyedowntheAgonyColumnsawthis:.ToThosewho
Apreciam
AppreciateWistariaandSunshine.SmallmediaevalItalianCastleontheshoresoftheMediterraneantobeLetFurnishedforthe
mês
monthofApril.Necessaryservantsremain.
Z,
Caixa
Box1000,TheTimes.Thatwasitsconception;
yet,asinthecaseofmanyanother,theconceiverwasunawareofitatthemoment.
SoentirelyunawarewasMrs.WilkinsthatherAprilforthatyearhadthenandtherebeensettledforherthatshedroppedthenewspaperwithagesturethatwasbothirritatedandresigned,andwentovertothe
janela
windowandstareddrearilyoutatthedrippingstreet.Notforherweremediaevalcastles,eventhosethatarespeciallydescribedassmall.
NotforhertheshoresinApriloftheMediterranean,andthewistariaandsunshine.
Suchdelightswereonlyfortherich.
Yettheadvertisementhadbeenaddressedtopersonswhoappreciatethesethings,sothatithadbeen,anyhow,addressedtootoher,forshe
certamente
certainlyappreciatedthem;morethananybodyknew;
morethanshehadevertold.
Butshewaspoor.
Inthewholeworldshepossessedofherveryownonlyninetypounds,savedfromyeartoyear,putbycarefullypoundbypound,outofher
vestido
dressallowance.Shehadscrapedthissumtogetheratthesuggestionofherhusbandasashieldandrefugeagainstarainyday.
Herdressallowance,givenherbyherfather,was£100ayear,sothatMrs.Wilkins’s
roupa
clotheswerewhatherhusband,urginghertosave,calledmodestandbecoming,andheracquaintancetoeachother,whentheyspokeofheratall,whichwasseldomforshewasverynegligible,calledaperfectsight.Mr.
Wilkins,asolicitor,encouragedthrift,
exceto
exceptthatbranchofitwhichgotintohisfood.Hedidnotcallthatthrift,hecalleditbadhousekeeping.
Butforthethriftwhich,likemoth,penetratedintoMrs.Wilkins’s
roupas
clothesandspoiltthem,hehadmuchpraise.“Youneverknow,”hesaid,“whentherewillbearainyday,andyoumaybevery
feliz
gladtofindyouhaveanest-egg.Indeedwebothmay.”
Lookingoutofthe
clube
clubwindowintoShaftesburyAvenue—herswasaneconomicalclube
club,butconvenientforHampstead,whereshelived,andforShoolbred’s,wheresheshopped—Mrs.Wilkins,havingstoodtheresometimeverydrearily,hermind’s
olho
eyeontheMediterraneaninApril,andthewistaria,andtheenviableopportunitiesoftherich,whileherbodilyolho
eyewatchedthereallyextremelyhorriblesootyrainfallingsteadilyonthehurryingumbrellasandsplashingomnibuses,suddenlywonderedse
whetherperhapsthiswasnottherainydayMellersh—MellershwasMr.Wilkins—hadsooftenencouragedhertopreparefor,andse
whethertogetoutofsuchaclimateandintothesmallmediaevalcastlewasn’tperhapswhatProvidencehadallalongintendedhertodowithhersavings.Partofhersavings,ofcourse;
perhapsquiteasmallpart.
Thecastle,beingmediaeval,mightalsobedilapidated,anddilapidationsweresurelycheap.
Shewouldn’tintheleastmindafewofthem,becauseyoudidn’tpayfordilapidationswhichwerealreadythere;
onthecontrary—byreducingthe
preço
priceyouhadtopaytheyreallypaidyou.Butwhatnonsensetothinkofit...
Sheturnedawayfromthe
janela
windowwiththesamegestureofmingledirritationandresignationwithwhichshehadlaiddownTheTimes,andatravessou
crossedtheroomtowardsthedoorwiththeintentionofgettinghermackintoshandumbrellaandfightingherwayintooneoftheovercrowdedomnibusesandgoingtoShoolbred’sonherwayhomeandbuyingsomesolesforMellersh’sdinner—Mellershwasdifícil
difficultwithfishandlikedonlysoles,exceto
exceptsalmon—whenshebeheldMrs.Arbuthnot,awomansheknewbysightasalsolivinginHampsteadandbelongingtotheclube
club,sittingatthetableinthemiddleoftheroomonwhichthenewspapersandmagazineswerekept,absorbed,inherturn,inthefirstpageofTheTimes.Mrs.
WilkinshadneveryetspokentoMrs.Arbuthnot,whobelongedtooneofthevariouschurchsets,andwhoanalysed,classified,dividedandregisteredthepoor;
whereassheandMellersh,whentheydidgoout,wenttothepartiesofimpressionistpainters,ofwhominHampsteadthereweremany.
MellershhadasisterwhohadmarriedoneofthemandlivedupontheHeath,andbecauseofthisallianceMrs.Wilkinswasdrawnintoacirclewhichwashighlyunnaturaltoher,andshehad
aprendeu
learnedtodreadpictures.Shehadtosaythingsaboutthem,andshedidn’tknowwhattosay.
Sheusedtomurmur,“Marvellous,”andfeelthatitwasnotenough.
Butnobodyminded.
Nobodylistened.
NobodytookanynoticeofMrs.Wilkins.
Shewasthekindofpersonwhoisnotnoticedatparties.
Her
roupas
clothes,infestedbythrift,madeherpracticallyinvisible;herfacewasnon-arresting;
herconversationwasreluctant;
shewasshy.
Andifone’s
roupas
clothesandfaceandconversationareallnegligible,thoughtMrs.Wilkins,whorecognisedherdisabilities,what,atparties,isthereleftofone?AlsoshewasalwayswithWilkins,thatclean-shaven,fine-lookingman,whogaveaparty,merelybycomingtoit,agreatair.
Wilkinswasveryrespectable.
Hewasknowntobehighlythoughtofbyhisseniorpartners.
Hissister’scircleadmiredhim.
Hepronouncedadequatelyintelligentjudgmentson
arte
artandartists.Hewaspithy;
hewasprudent;
heneversaidawordtoomuch,
nem
nor,ontheotherhand,didheeversayawordtoolittle.Heproducedtheimpressionofkeepingcopiesofeverythinghesaid;
andhewasso
obviamente
obviouslyreliablethatitoftenhappenedthatpeoplewhomethimatthesepartiesbecamediscontentedwiththeirownsolicitors,andafteraperiodofrestlessnessextricatedthemselvesandwenttoWilkins.NaturallyMrs.Wilkinswasblottedout.
“She,”saidhissister,withsomethingherselfofthejudicial,thedigested,andthe
final
finalinhermanner,“shouldstayathome.”ButWilkinscouldnotleavehiswifeathome.
Hewasafamilysolicitor,andallsuchhavewivesandshowthem.
Withhisintheweekhewenttoparties,andwithhisonSundayshewentto
igreja
church.Beingstillfairlyyoung—hewasthirty-nine—andambitiousofoldladies,ofwhomhehadnotyetacquiredinhis
prática
practiceasufficientnumber,hecouldnotaffordtomissigreja
church,anditwastherethatMrs.Wilkinsbecamefamiliar,thoughneverthroughwords,withMrs.Arbuthnot.Shesawhermarshallingthechildrenofthepoorintopews.
ShewouldcomeinattheheadoftheprocessionfromtheSundaySchoolexactlyfiveminutesbeforethechoir,andgetherboysandgirlsneatlyfittedintotheirallottedseats,anddownontheirlittlekneesintheirpreliminaryprayer,andupagainontheir
pé
feetjustas,totheswellingorgan,thevestrydooropened,andthechoirandclergy,bigwiththelitaniesandcommandmentstheywerepresentlytorollout,emerged.Shehada
triste
sadface,yetshewasevidentlyefficient.ThecombinationusedtomakeMrs.Wilkinswonder,forshehadbeentoldbyMellersh,ondayswhenshehadonlybeenabletogetplaice,thatifonewereefficientonewouldn’tbedepressed,andthatifonedoesone’sjobwellonebecomesautomaticallybrightandbrisk.
AboutMrs.Arbuthnottherewasnothingbrightandbrisk,thoughmuchinherwaywiththeSundaySchoolchildrenthatwasautomatic;
butwhenMrs.Wilkins,turningfromthe
janela
window,caughtsightofherintheclube
clubshewasnotbeingautomaticatall,butwaslookingfixedlyatoneportionofthefirstpageofTheTimes,holdingthejornal
paperquitestill,hereyesnotmoving.Shewasjuststaring;
andherface,asusual,wasthefaceofa
paciente
patientanddisappointedMadonna.Obeyinganimpulseshewonderedatevenwhileobeyingit,Mrs.Wilkins,theshyandthereluctant,
em vez
insteadofproceedingasshehadintendedtothecloakroomandfromthencetoSchoolbred’sinbusca
searchofMellersh’sfish,stoppedatthemesa
tableandsatdownexactlyoppositeMrs.Arbuthnot,towhomshehadneveryetspokeninherlife.Itwasoneofthoselong,narrowrefectorytables,sothattheywerequiteclosetoeachother.
Mrs.
Arbuthnot,
no entanto
however,didnotlookup.She
continuou
continuedtogaze,witheyesthatpareciam
seemedtobedreaming,atoneponto
spotonlyofTheTimes.Mrs.
Wilkinswatchedheraminute,tryingtoscrewupcouragetospeaktoher.
Shewantedtoaskherifshehadseentheadvertisement.
Shedidnotknowwhyshewantedtoaskherthis,butshewantedto.
Howstupidnottobeabletospeaktoher.
Shelookedsokind.
Shelookedsounhappy.
Whycouldn’ttwounhappypeoplerefresheachotherontheirwaythroughthisdustybusinessoflifebyalittletalk—real,naturaltalk,aboutwhattheyfelt,whattheywouldhaveliked,whattheystilltriedtohope?
AndshecouldnothelpthinkingthatMrs.Arbuthnot,too,wasreadingthatverysameadvertisement.
Hereyeswereontheverypartofthe
papel
paper.Wasshe,too,picturingwhatitwouldbelike—thecolour,thefragrance,thelight,thesoftlappingofthe
mar
seaamonglittlehotrocks?Colour,fragrance,light,
mar
sea;insteadofShaftesburyAvenue,andthewetomnibuses,andthe
peixe
fishdepartmentatShoolbred’s,andtheTubetoHampstead,anddinner,andto-morrowthesameandthedayafterthesameandalwaysthesame...SuddenlyMrs.Wilkinsfoundherselfleaningacrossthe
mesa
table.“Areyoureadingaboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria?”
sheheardherselfasking.
NaturallyMrs.Arbuthnotwassurprised;
butshewasnothalfsomuch
surpreendido
surprisedasMrs.Wilkinswasatherselfforasking.Mrs.
Arbuthnothadnotyettoherknowledgeseteyesontheshabby,lank,loosely-put-together
figura
figuresittingoppositeher,withitssmallfreckledfaceandbiggreyeyesalmostdisappearingunderasmashed-downwet-weatherhat,andshegazedatheramomentwithoutanswering.Shewasreadingaboutthemediaevalcastleandthewistaria,orratherhadreadaboutittenminutesbefore,andsincethenhadbeenlostindreams—oflight,ofcolour,offragrance,ofthesoftlappingofthe
mar
seaamonglittlehotrocks...“Whydoyouaskmethat?”
shesaidinhergrave
voz
voice,forhertrainingofandbythepoorhadmadehergraveandpaciente
patient.Mrs.
Wilkinsflushedandlookedexcessivelyshyandfrightened.
“Oh,onlybecauseIsawittoo,andIthoughtperhaps—Ithoughtsomehow—”
shestammered.
WhereuponMrs.Arbuthnot,hermindbeingusedtogettingpeopleintolistsanddivisions,fromhabitconsidered,asshegazedthoughtfullyatMrs.Wilkins,underwhatheading,
supondo
supposingshehadtoclassifyher,shecouldmostproperlybeput.“AndIknowyoubysight,”wentonMrs.Wilkins,who,likealltheshy,onceshewasstartedplungedon,frighteningherselftomoreandmorespeechbythesheersoundofwhatshehadsaidlastinherears.
“EverySunday—IseeyoueverySundayinchurch—”.
“Inchurch?”
echoedMrs.Arbuthnot.
“Andthis
parece
seemssuchawonderfulthing—thisadvertisementaboutthewistaria—and—”.Mrs.
Wilkins,whomusthavebeenatleastthirty,brokeoffandwriggledinherchairwiththemovementofanawkwardandembarrassedschoolgirl.
“Itseemssowonderful,”shewentoninakindofburst,“and—itissuchamiserableday...”
AndthenshesatlookingatMrs.Arbuthnotwiththeeyesofanimprisoneddog.
“Thispoorthing,”thoughtMrs.Arbuthnot,
cuja
whoselifewasspentinhelpingandalleviating,“needsadvice.”Sheaccordinglypreparedherselfpatientlytogiveit.
“Ifyouseemeinchurch,”shesaid,kindlyandattentively,“IsupposeyouliveinHampsteadtoo?”
“Ohyes,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
Andsherepeated,herheadonitslongthin
pescoço
neckdroopingalittleasiftherecollectionofHampsteadbowedher,“Ohyes.”“Where?”
askedMrs.Arbuthnot,who,whenadvicewasneeded,naturallyfirstproceededtocollectthefacts.
ButMrs.Wilkins,
colocando
layingherhandsoftlyandcaressinglyonthepartofTheTimeswheretheadvertisementwas,asthoughthemereprintedwordsofitwereprecious,onlysaid,“Perhapsthat’swhythisparece
seemssowonderful.”“No—Ithinkthat’s
maravilhoso
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’squick,surprisingreply;
surprisingbecauseitwassomuchunliketherestofher—thecharacterlesscoatandskirt,thecrumpledhat,theundecidedwispofhairstragglingout.
“Andjusttheconsideringofthemisworthwhileinitself—suchachangefromHampstead—andsometimesIbelieve—Ireallydobelieve—ifoneconsidershardenoughonegetsthings.”
Mrs.
Arbuthnotobservedherpatiently.
Inwhatcategorywouldshe,
supondo
supposingshehadto,puther?“Perhaps,”shesaid,leaning
frente
forwardalittle,“youwilltellmeyourname.Ifwearetobefriends”—she
sorriu
smiledhergravesmile—“asIhopeweare,wehadbetterbeginatthebeginning.”“Ohyes—howkindofyou.
I’mMrs.Wilkins,”saidMrs.Wilkins.
“Idon’texpect,”sheadded,flushing,asMrs.Arbuthnotsaidnothing,“thatitconveysanythingtoyou.
Sometimesit—itdoesn’t
parece
seemtoconveyanythingtomeeither.But”—shelookedroundwithamovementofseekinghelp—“IamMrs.Wilkins.”
Shedidnotlikehername.
Itwasamean,smallname,withakindoffacetioustwist,shethought,aboutitsendliketheupwardcurveofapugdog’stail.
Thereitwas,
no entanto
however.Therewasnodoinganythingwithit.
WilkinsshewasandWilkinsshewouldremain;
andthoughherhusbandencouragedhertogiveitonalloccasionsasMrs.Mellersh-Wilkinssheonlydidthatwhenhewaswithinearshot,forshethoughtMellershmadeWilkins
pior
worse,emphasisingitinthewayChatsworthonthegate-postsofavillaemphasisesthevilla.WhenfirsthesuggestedsheshouldaddMellershshehadobjectedforthe
acima
abovereason,andafterapause—Mellershwasmuchtooprudenttospeakexceto
exceptafterapause,duringwhichpresumablyhewastakingacarefulmentalcopyofhiscomingobservation—hesaid,muchdispleased,“ButIamnotavilla,”andlookedatherashelookswhohopes,forperhapsthehundredthtime,thathemaynothavemarriedafool.Ofcoursehewasnotavilla,Mrs.Wilkinsassuredhim;
shehadneversupposedhewas;
shehadnotdreamedofmeaning...
shewasonlyjustthinking...
Themoreshe
explicava
explainedthemoreearnestbecameMellersh’shope,familiartohimbythistime,forhehadthenbeenahusbandfortwoyears,thathemightnotbyanychancehavemarriedafool;andtheyhadaprolongedquarrel,ifthatcanbecalledaquarrelwhichisconductedwithdignifiedsilenceononesideandearnestapologyontheother,astowhetherornoMrs.WilkinshadintendedtosuggestthatMr.Wilkinswasavilla.
“Ibelieve,”shehadthoughtwhenitwasatlastover—ittookalongwhile—“thatanybodywouldquarrelaboutanythingwhenthey’venotleftoffbeingtogetherfora
único
singledayfortwowholeyears.Whatwebothneedisaholiday.”
“Myhusband,”wentonMrs.WilkinstoMrs.Arbuthnot,tryingto
lançar
throwsomelightonherself,“isasolicitor.He—”
ShecastaboutforsomethingshecouldsayelucidatoryofMellersh,andfound:
“He’sveryhandsome.”
“Well,”saidMrs.Arbuthnotkindly,“thatmustbeagreat
prazer
pleasuretoyou.”“Why?”
askedMrs.Wilkins.
“Because,”saidMrs.Arbuthnot,alittletakenaback,forconstantintercoursewiththepoorhadaccustomedhertohaveherpronouncementsacceptedwithoutquestion,“becausebeauty—handsomeness—isa
presente
giftlikeanyother,andifitisproperlyused—”.Shetrailedoffintosilence.
Mrs.Wilkins’sgreatgreyeyeswerefixedonher,andit
parecia
seemedsuddenlytoMrs.Arbuthnotthatperhapsshewasbecomingcrystallisedintoahabitofexposition,andofexpositionafterthemannerofnursemaids,throughhavinganaudiencethatcouldn’tbutconcordar
agree,thatwouldbeafraid,ifitwished,tointerrupt,thatdidn’tknow,thatwas,infact,athermercy.ButMrs.Wilkinswasnotlistening;
forjustthen,absurdasit
parecesse
seemed,apicturehadflashedacrosshercérebro
brain,andthereweretwofiguresinitsittingtogetherunderagreattrailingwistariathatstretchedacrossthebranchesofaárvore
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
surpreendeu
surprised,inquiringly,Mrs.Wilkinswiththeeyesofsomeonewhohashadarevelation.Ofcourse.
Thatwashowitcouldbedone.
Sheherself,shebyherself,couldn’taffordit,andwouldn’tbeable,evenifshecouldaffordit,togothereallalone;
butsheandMrs.Arbuthnottogether...
Sheleanedacrossthe
mesa
table.“Whydon’twetryandgetit?”
shewhispered.
Mrs.
Arbuthnotbecameevenmorewide-eyed.
“Getit?”
sherepeated.
“Yes,”saidMrs.Wilkins,stillasthoughshewereafraidofbeingoverheard.
“NotjustsithereandsayHowwonderful,andthengohometoHampsteadwithouthavingputoutafinger—gohomejustasusualandseeaboutthedinnerandthe
peixe
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?”