CHAPTERI
IfithadnotrainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.
Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofher
klan
clan,toAuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.Butitdidrainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.
Valancywakenedearly,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.
Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,inacommunityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplythosewhohavefailedtogetaman.
DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancyto
hopplös
hopelessoldmaidenhood.ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethat
Romantik
Romancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.Ay,therelaythesting.
Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.
Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.
Shedarednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.
Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheheart.
Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherworsethananyshehadhadyet.
Andshewasafraidhermotherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.
“Suppose,”thoughtValancywithaghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”
Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”
Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehadasenseofhumournobodyinher
klan
clansuspected.Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasverysuperficialand
närvarande
presentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,futilelittlefigure,listeningtotherainhäller
pouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightkryper
creepingintoherugly,sordidroom.Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-paintedfloor,withone
hemsk
hideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,withagrotesk
grotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;thefaded,dark-redpaper;
the
taket
ceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;the
smala
narrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;thebrown-paperlambrequinwith
lila
purplerosesonit;thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;
thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythical
smekmånad
honeymoon;theshell-coveredbox,withoneburstcorner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinher
lika
equallymythicalgirlhood;thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theone
styva
stiff,yellowchair;thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtheroomsbelow.
Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofa
valp
puppysittingonarainytröskel
doorstep.ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.
Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedrivingrain!
Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theotherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdowna
trappa
stairway,whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertionde
tenthbirthday.Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedQueenLouise.
Butsheneverdareddestroyitorremoveit.
MotherandCousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.
Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.
Buthermotherhadnegativedeverytimid
förslag
suggestionandValancydidnotpersist.Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrook
motstånd
opposition.Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsultedduchess.
TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnighttocryifshewantedto.
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?
Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingandCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinisterpurpose.
ButherroomintheBlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.
Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.
NobodyintheStirlingclan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherandCousinStickles.
TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlueCastleinSpain.
ValancyhadlivedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.
Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeit
tydligt
plainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitssvaga
faint,blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofafairandunknownland.Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthaveworn;
robesofmoonlightandfire;
couchesofrosesandgold;
longflightsof
grunda
shallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,forwhose
blick
glancemendied.Allthatsupportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.
Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedof
skräck
horroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinherBlueCastle.Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlong
hängivenhet
devotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapeloftheBlueCastle.Attwelve,thisloverwasafair
pojke
ladwithgoldencurlsandhimmelska
heavenlyblueeyes.Atfifteen,hewastallanddarkand
blek
pale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.Attwenty,hewasascetic,
drömmande
dreamy,spiritual.Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cut
käke
jaw,slightlygrim,andafacestrongandrobust
ruggedratherthanhandsome.Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedsmileandamysteriouspast.
Idon’tsayValancy
medvetet
deliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.Onesimplyfadedawayasanothercame.
ThingsareveryconvenientinthisrespectinBlueCastles.
But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,ValancycouldnotfindthekeyofherBlueCastle.
Realitypressedonhertoohardly,
skällde
barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsome
klan
clan,withnopastandnofuture.Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonor
lila
purplespotanywhere.Asfarasshecouldlookforwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbutasolitary,littlewithered
löv
leafclingingtoawintrybough.Themomentwhenawoman
inser
realisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitterhet
bitternessofdeath.“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reall
fruktansvärt
horriblylong-lived.Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasraining.
Therewouldbeno
picknick
picnicthatday.Thisannual
picknick
picnic,wherebyAuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirförlovning
engagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasherbirthdayand,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.
Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.
Thereseemedtobenothingoftherevolutionaryinhernature.
Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.
UncleWellington,whomshe
ogillade
dislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehaduppfyllt
fulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’sviskning
whisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariably
avslutade
concludedhisdullremarks.AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabject
vördnad
awe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedletter.ValancywouldhavetolookaspleasedandinterestedasifthedressandletterhadbeenhersorelseAuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.
AndValancyhadlongagodecidedthatshewouldrather
förolämpa
offendGodthanAuntWellington,becauseGodmightforgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiable
vana
habitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatbeautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowskin—.“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmyskinwasrosesandcream.
IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”
Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.
Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancy
ogillade
dislikedbutrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarkasm
sarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhis
avskyvärda
abominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.“WhatisthedifferencebetweenDossandamouse?
“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancyhadheardhimaskthat
gåtan
riddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedtothrowsomethingathim.Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnotthrowthings;
inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasa
rik
wealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefearandadmonitionofhismoney.Ifshe
förolämpade
offendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.
Soshe
uthärdade
enduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnot
förutsäga
predictjusthow,forAuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.
Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelastpicnicandwonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”
Oppressively
kompetent
competent,AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.Forthesamereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,accordingtothestrictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitive
disposition
disposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirling
klan
clan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularitet
popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbeautyandpresumeonherpopularitet
popularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,avundsjuka
enviouseyes.Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.
Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyandCousinStickles.
Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromAuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.
Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
ItsghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.
Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedtherainthathadsavedherfromit.
Therewouldbeno
picknick
picnicthisyear.IfAuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthe
heliga
sacreddayitselfshewouldhavenofest
celebrationatall.Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbeno
picknick
picnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,iftherainheldupintheafternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothe
bibliotekarie
librariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—under
protest
protest,foritwasonlytoouppenbart
evidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadto
förbättra
improveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwasnjutbar
enjoyablewasdangerous.Valancydidnotknowwhetherhermindwasbeing
förbättrades
improvedornot;butshefelt
vagt
vaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.Theyseemedtoherto
ge
yieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernow.ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthe
bibliotekarie
librariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomoreinformationcanbehad.
Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
QuitelikelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemto
rave
raveover.”“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarksonsmiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.
ButcertainlyFosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”
Valancydidn’tknowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.
ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.
Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehintofagreatsecretjustalittlefurtheron—some
svagt
faint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
ItwasamonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.
Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpainaroundtheheart.
Ithadcomeratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecoming
irriterande
annoying,nottospeakofantillfällig
occasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
NoneoftheStirlingsever
rådfrågade
consultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’godkännande
approval.Then,theywenttoDr.Ambrose
Marsh
MarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.ButValancy
ogillade
dislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.And,besides,shecouldnotgetto
Port
PortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesucha
uppståndelse
fussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandråd
adviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;
andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonal
förolämpning
insult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;
andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethat
antydde
impliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;andOlive—Olivewould
bara
merelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.
Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatallseriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshementionedit.
ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhisbill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthebankforherthedayshewasborn.
Shewasneverallowedtouseeventheinterestofthis,butshewouldsecretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.
Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.
Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeantto
pension
retiresoon.NoneoftheStirling
klan
clanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwho
förolämpade
insultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglicanchurch.Kapitel
CHAPTERIIWhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsevenandshemustgetup.
Aslongasshecouldremember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastseven.
CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsinceseven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewas
känslig
delicate.Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.