CHAPTERI
Ifithadnot
llovido
rainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofherclan,to
Tía
AuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.Butitdid
llovió
rainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.Valancywakened
temprano
early,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,inacommunityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplythosewhohavefailedtogetaman.
DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessoldmaidenhood.
ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.
Ay,therelaythesting.
Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.
Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.
She
atrevió
darednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanother
ataque
attackofthatpainaroundtheheart.Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—rather
peor
worsethananyshehadhadyet.Andshewasafraidhermotherwould
notara
noticeherredeyesatdesayuno
breakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancywithaghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘Iam
llorando
cryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorial
voz
voiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehada
sentido
senseofhumournobodyinherclansuspected.Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasverysuperficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,futilelittle
figura
figure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-painted
suelo
floor,withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,withagrotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;thefaded,dark-red
papel
paper;theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;
thebrown-paperlambrequinwithpurplerosesonit;
thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;
thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythicalhoneymoon;
theshell-coveredbox,withoneburstcorner,which
Prima
CousinStickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theonestiff,yellowchair;
thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtheroomsbelow.
Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofapuppysittingonarainydoorstep.
That
cuadro
picturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedriving
lluvia
rain!Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theother
cuadro
picturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofReina
QueenLouisecomingdownastairway,whichTía
AuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertenthcumpleaños
birthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfied
Reina
QueenLouise.Butshenever
atrevió
dareddestroyitorremoveit.Motherand
Primo
CousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.
ButhermotherhadnegativedeverytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.
Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsultedduchess.
TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnightto
llorar
cryifshewantedto.But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?
Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingand
Primo
CousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinisterpurpose.Butherroominthe
Azul
BlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.
NobodyintheStirlingclan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherand
Primo
CousinStickles.TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andthe
Azul
BlueCastleinSpain.Valancyhadlivedspirituallyinthe
Azul
BlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,
azul
blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofafairandunknowntierra
land.Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthave
usado
worn;robesofmoonlightandfire;
couchesofrosesand
oro
gold;longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;
courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,for
cuya
whoseglancemendied.Allthatsupportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.
Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedofhorroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinher
Azul
BlueCastle.Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlongdevotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapelofthe
Azul
BlueCastle.Attwelve,thisloverwasafairladwithgoldencurlsandheavenlyblueeyes.
Atfifteen,hewastalland
oscuro
darkandpale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,spiritual.
Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,andaface
fuerte
strongandruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynever
creció
grewolderthantwenty-fiveinherAzul
BlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herhéroe
herohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedsonrisa
smileandamysteriouspast.Idon’tsayValancydeliberately
asesinara
murderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.Onesimplyfadedawayasanothercame.
ThingsareveryconvenientinthisrespectinBlueCastles.
But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,Valancycouldnotfindthekeyofher
Azul
BlueCastle.Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.
Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsomeclan,withnopastandno
futuro
future.Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonorpurple
mancha
spotanywhere.Asfarasshecouldlook
adelante
forwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.Themomentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,
deber
duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdeath.“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwas
lloviendo
raining.Therewouldbenopicnicthatday.
Thisannualpicnic,whereby
Tía
AuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirengagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasher
cumpleaños
birthdayand,aftershehadpasado
passedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.
There
parecía
seemedtobenothingoftherevolutionaryinhernaturaleza
nature.Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”
andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.
Tía
AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffonvestido
dressandCecil’slastdevotedcarta
letter.Valancywouldhavetolookaspleasedandinterestedasifthe
vestido
dressandletterhadbeenhersorelseTía
AuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.AndValancyhadlongago
decidido
decidedthatshewouldratheroffendGodthanTía
AuntWellington,becauseGodmightforgiveherbutTía
AuntWellingtonneverwould.AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablehabitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreat
belleza
beautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowpiel
skin—.“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmy
piel
skinwasrosesandcream.Iwas
contaban
countedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“How
gordo
fatyou’regetting,Doss!”Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.
Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbut
respetaba
respectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“Isupongo
supposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“Whatisthe
diferencia
differencebetweenDossandamouse?“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancyhadheardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedtothrowsomethingathim.
Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnot
lanzaban
throwthings;inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasawealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthe
temor
fearandadmonitionofhismoney.Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.
ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.
Sosheenduredhisriddlesandeven
sonrió
smiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.Tía
AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneste
eastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthow,forTía
AuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.Tía
AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
Prima
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelastpicnicandpreguntaba
wonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,
Tía
AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.Forthesamereason,
Prima
CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,acuerdo
accordingtothestrictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.AndOlive,the
maravilla
wondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbelleza
beautyandpresumeonherpopularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Therewouldbe
nada
noneofallthistoday.Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyand
Primo
CousinStickles.Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfrom
Tía
AuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
Its
fantasma
ghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedthe
lluvia
rainthathadsavedherfromit.Therewouldbenopicnicthisyear.
If
Tía
AuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthesacreddayitselfshewouldhavenocelebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbenopicnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,ifthe
lluvia
rainheldupinthetarde
afternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasnever
permitió
allowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”
SoValancywas
permitió
allowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevidentthatshedisfrutaba
enjoyedthemtoomuch.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwasenjoyablewas
peligroso
dangerous.Valancydidnotknow
si
whetherhermindwasbeingimprovedornot;butshefeltvaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.
They
parecían
seemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernow.ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthelibrariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterfor
varios
severalyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomore
información
informationcanbehad.Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
QuitelikelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemtoraveover.”
“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarkson
sonrió
smiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.But
ciertamente
certainlyFosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”Valancydidn’tknow
si
whethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.
Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehintofagreat
secreto
secretjustalittlefurtheron—somefaint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagia
magicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
Itwasa
mes
monthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueer
dolor
painaroundtheheart.Ithadcome
bastante
ratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofanoccasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamost
atrevido
daringthought.NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.
Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecond
Prima
CousinAdelaideStirling.ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.
And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.
Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”
Tía
AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasa
personal
personalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;
and
Prima
CousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”
Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybody
a menos que
unlessshehadto.Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatall
seriamente
seriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshemencionó
mentionedit.ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhis
factura
bill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthebanco
bankforherthedayshewasnació
born.Shewasneverallowedtouseeventhe
interés
interestofthis,butshewouldsecretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlya
general
generalpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretiresoon.
Ninguno
NoneoftheStirlingclanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldPrima
CousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatshedisfrutaba
enjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—notto
mencionar
mentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglicaniglesia
church.CHAPTERII
WhenCousinStickles
llamó
knockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsiete
sevenandshemustgetup.Aslongasshecouldremember,
Primo
CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastsiete
seven.CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsince
siete
seven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.