CHAPTERI
Ifithadnot
regnat
rainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofherclan,to
Moster
AuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.Butitdid
regnade
rainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.Valancywakened
tidigt
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
vågade
darednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanother
attack
attackofthatpainaroundtheheart.Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—rather
värre
worsethananyshehadhadyet.Andshewasafraidhermotherwould
märka
noticeherredeyesatbreakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.“Suppose,”thoughtValancywithaghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘Iam
gråter
cryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorial
röst
voiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehadasenseofhumournobodyinherclansuspected.
Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasverysuperficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,futilelittle
figur
figure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherfula
ugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-painted
golvet
floor,withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,withagrotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;thefaded,dark-redpaper;
theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;
thebrown-paperlambrequinwithpurplerosesonit;
thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrack
över
acrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythicalhoneymoon;
theshell-coveredbox,withoneburstcorner,which
Kusin
CousinStickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theonestiff,yellowchair;
thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtheroomsbelow.
Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofapuppysittingonarainydoorstep.
ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.
Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedriving
regnet
rain!Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theotherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingof
Drottning
QueenLouisecomingdownastairway,whichMoster
AuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertenthfödelsedag
birthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfied
Drottning
QueenLouise.Butshenever
vågade
dareddestroyitorremoveit.Motherand
Kusin
CousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadaanfall
fit.Everyroominthehousewas
fula
ugly,ofcourse.Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.
ButhermotherhadnegativedeverytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.
Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsultedduchess.
TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnightto
gråta
cryifshewantedto.But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepingand
klä
dressingin,wereugly?Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingand
Kusin
CousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinisterpurpose.Butherroominthe
Blå
BlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgo
ganska
rathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.NobodyintheStirlingclan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherand
Kusin
CousinStickles.TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—the
fula
uglyredbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlå
BlueCastleinSpain.Valancyhadlivedspirituallyinthe
Blå
BlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,
blå
blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofafairandunknownland
land.Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthave
burit
worn;robesofmoonlightandfire;
couchesofrosesand
guld
gold;longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;
courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,for
vars
whoseglancemendied.Allthat
stödde
supportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedofhorroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinher
Blå
BlueCastle.Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlongdevotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapelofthe
Blå
BlueCastle.Attwelve,thisloverwasafairladwithgoldencurlsandheavenly
blå
blueeyes.Atfifteen,hewastalland
mörk
darkandpale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,spiritual.
Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,andaface
starkt
strongandruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinher
Blå
BlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herhjälte
herohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedleende
smileandamysteriouspast.Idon’tsayValancydeliberately
mördade
murderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.Onesimplyfadedawayasanothercame.
Thingsareveryconvenientinthis
avseende
respectinBlueCastles.But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,Valancycouldnotfindthekeyofher
Blå
BlueCastle.Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.
Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsomeclan,withnopastandno
framtid
future.Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotone
enda
singlecrimsonorpurplespotnågonstans
anywhere.Asfarasshecouldlook
framåt
forwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.Themomentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,
plikt
duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdeath.“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewas
glad
gladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasregnade
raining.Therewouldbenopicnicthatday.
Thisannualpicnic,whereby
Moster
AuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirengagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasher
födelsedag
birthdayand,aftershehadpasserat
passedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.
There
verkade
seemedtobenothingoftherevolutionaryinhernatur
nature.Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”
andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.
Faster
AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedbrev
letter.Valancywouldhavetolookaspleasedand
intresserad
interestedasifthedressandbrevet
letterhadbeenhersorelseMoster
AuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.AndValancyhadlongago
bestämt
decidedthatshewouldratheroffendGodthanMoster
AuntWellington,becauseGodmightförlåta
forgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.Moster
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablehabitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatskönhet
beautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowhud
skin—.“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmy
hud
skinwasrosesandcream.IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“How
tjock
fatyou’regetting,Doss!”Andtheneverybodywould
skrattade
laughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfet
fat.Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbut
respekterade
respectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“Iantar
supposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“Whatisthe
skillnaden
differencebetweenDossandamouse?“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancyhadheardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedto
kasta
throwsomethingathim.Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnot
kastade
throwthings;inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasawealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthe
rädsla
fearandadmonitionofhismoney.Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.
ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.
Sosheenduredhisriddlesandeven
log
smiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.Faster
AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthow,forFaster
AuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.Faster
AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
Kusin
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelastpicnicandundra
wonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.
Forthesamereason,
Kusin
CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,enligt
accordingtothestrictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldshowoffher
skönhet
beautyandpresumeonherpopularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.
Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyand
Kusin
CousinStickles.Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfrom
Moster
AuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
Its
spöke
ghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedthe
regnet
rainthathadsavedherfromit.Therewouldbenopicnicthisyear.
If
Moster
AuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthesacreddayitselfshewouldhavenocelebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbenopicnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,ifthe
regnet
rainheldupintheafternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”
SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.
Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwasenjoyablewas
farlig
dangerous.Valancydidnotknow
om
whetherhermindwasbeingimprovedornot;butshefeltvaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.
They
verkade
seemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasevigt
foreverbarredtohernow.ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthelibrariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterfor
flera
severalyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomore
information
informationcanbehad.Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
QuitelikelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemtoraveover.”
“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarkson
log
smiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.ButcertainlyFoster
verkar
seemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”Valancydidn’tknow
om
whethershecaredmuchforbugseither.ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeof
vilda
wildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehintofagreat
hemlighet
secretjustalittlefurtheron—somefaint,elusiveechoofvackra
lovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
Itwasa
månad
monthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpainaroundtheheart.
Ithadcome
ganska
ratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofanoccasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
Ingen
NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.
And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.
Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”
Faster
AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasa
personlig
personalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;
and
Kusin
CousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”
Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybody
om
unlessshehadto.Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatall
allvarligt
seriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshenämnde
mentionedit.ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhisbill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthe
banken
bankforherthedayshewasborn.Shewasneverallowedtouseeventheinterestofthis,butshewouldsecretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.
Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.
Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretiresoon.
Ingen
NoneoftheStirlingclanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldKusin
CousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatshenjöt
enjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglican
kyrkan
church.CHAPTERII
WhenCousinStickles
knackade
knockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsju
sevenandshemustgetup.Aslongasshecouldremember,
Kusin
CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastsju
seven.CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsince
sju
seven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewasdelicate.Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.