david elginbrod-第40节

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amiss　though；　after　all。〃

But；　as　she　spoke；　an　irrepressible　flash　of　dislike；　or　displeasure
of　some　sort；　broke　from　her　eyes；　and　vanished。　　No　one　but　himself
seemed　to　Hugh　to　have　observed　it；　but　he　was　learned　in　the　lady's
eyes；　and　their　weather…signs。　　Mr。　Arnold　rose　from　the　table　and
left　the　room；　apparently　to　write　an　answer　to　the　letter。　　As　soon
as　he　was　gone；　Euphra　gave　the　letter　to　Hugh。　He　read　as
follows：

〃MY　DEAR　MR。　ARNOLD；

〃Will　you　extend　the　hospitality　of　your　beautiful　house　to　me　and
my　young　friend；　who　has　the　honour　of　being　your　relative；　Lady
Emily　Lake？　　For　some　time　her　health　has　seemed　to　be　failing；　and
she　is　ordered　to　spend　the　winter　abroad；　at　Pau；　or　somewhere　in
the　south　of　France。　　It　is　considered　highly　desirable　that　in　the
meantime　she　should　have　as　much　change　as　possible；　and　it　occurred
to　me；　remembering　the　charming　month　I　passed　at　your　seat；　and
recalling　the　fact　that　Lady　Emily　is　cousin　only　once　removed　to
your　late　most　lovely　wife；　that　there　would　be　no　impropriety　in
writing　to　ask　you　whether　you　could；　without　inconvenience；　receive
us　as　your　guests　for　a　short　time。　　I　say　us；　for　the　dear　girl　has
taken　such　a　fancy　to　unworthy　old　me；　that　she　almost　refuses　to
set　out　without　me。　　Not　to　be　cumbersome　either　to　our　friends　or
ourselves；　we　shall　bring　only　our　two　maids；　and　a　steady　old
man…servant；　who　has　been　in　my　family　for　many　years。I　trust　you
will　not　hesitate　to　refuse　my　request；　should　I　happen　to　have　made
it　at　an　unsuitable　season；　assured；　as　you　must　be；　that　we　cannot
attribute　the　refusal　to　any　lack　of　hospitality　or　friendliness　on
your　part。　　At　all　events；　I　trust　you　will　excuse　what　seemsnow　I
have　committed　it　to　papera　great　liberty；　I　hope　not　presumption；
on　mine。　　I　am；　my　dear　Mr。　Arnold；

〃Yours　most　sincerely；

〃HANNAH　ELTON。〃

Hugh　refolded　the　letter；　and　laid　it　down　without　remark。　　Harry
had　left　the　room。

〃Isn't　it　a　bore？〃　said　Euphra。

Hugh　answered　only　by　a　look。　　A　pause　followed。

〃Who　is　Mrs。　Elton？〃　he　said　at　last。

〃Oh；　a　good…hearted　creature　enough。　　Frightfully　prosy。〃

〃But　that　is　a　well…written　letter？〃

〃Oh；　yes。　　She　is　famed　for　her　letter…writing；　and；　I　believe；
practises　every　morning　on　a　slate。　　It　is　the　only　thing　that
redeems　her　from　absolute　stupidity。〃

Euphra；　with　her　taper　fore…finger；　tapped　the　table…cloth
impatiently；　and　shifted　back　in　her　chair；　as　if　struggling　with　an
inward　annoyance。

〃And　what　sort　of　person　is　Lady　Emily？〃　asked　Hugh。

〃I　have　never　seen　her。　　Some　blue…eyed　milk…maid　with　a　title；　I
suppose。　　And　in　a　consumption；　too！　　I　presume　the　dear　girl　is　as
religious　as　the　old　one。Good　heavens！　what　shall　we　do？〃　she
burst　out　at　length；　and；　rising　from　her　chair；　she　paced　about　the
room　hurriedly；　but　all　the　time　with　a　gliding　kind　of　footfall；
that　would　have　shaken　none　but　the　craziest　floor。

〃Dear　Euphra！〃　　Hugh　ventured　to　say；　〃never　mind。　　Let　us　try　to
make　the　best　of　it。〃

She　stopped　in　her　walk；　turned　towards　him；　smiled　as　if　ashamed
and　delighted　at　the　same　moment；　and　slid　out　of　the　room。　　Had
Euphra　been　the　same　all　through；　she　could　hardly　have　smiled　so
without　being　in　love　with　Hugh。

That　morning　he　sought　her　again　in　her　room。　　They　talked　over
their　versions　of　Dante。　　Hugh's　was　certainly　the　best；　for　he　was
more　practised　in　such　things　than　Euphra。　　He　showed　her　many
faults；　which　she　at　once　perceived　to　be　faults；　and　so　rose　in　his
estimation。　　But　at　the　same　time　there　were　individual　lines　and
passages　of　hers；　which　he　considered　not　merely　better　than　the
corresponding　lines　and　passages；　but　better　than　any　part　of　his
version。　　This　he　was　delighted　to　say；　and　she　seemed　as　delighted
that　he　should　think　so。　　A　great　part　of　the　morning　was　spent
thus。

〃I　cannot　stay　longer；〃　said　Hugh。

〃Let　us　read　for　an　hour；　then；　after　we　come　up　stairs　to…night。〃

〃With　more　pleasure　than　I　dare　to　say。〃

〃But　you　mean　what　you　do　say？〃

〃You　can　doubt　it　no　more　than　myself。〃

Yet　he　did　not　like　Euphra's　making　the　proposal。　　No　more　did　he
like　the　flippant；　almost　cruel　way　in　which　she　referred　to　Lady
Emily's　illness。　　But　he　put　it　down　to　annoyance　and　hastegot
over　it　somehowanyhow；　and　began　to　feel　that　if　she　were　a　devil
he　could　not　help　loving　her；　and　would　not　help　it　if　he　could。
The　hope　of　meeting　her　alone　that　night；　gave　him　spirit　and
energy　with　Harry；　and　the　poor　boy　was　more　cheery　and　active　than
he　had　been　for　some　time。　　He　thought　his　big　brother　was　going　to
love　him　again　as　at　the　first。　　Hugh's　treatment　of　his　pupil　might
still　have　seemed　kind　from　another；　but　Harry　felt　it　a　great
change　in　him。

In　the　course　of　the　day；　Euphra　took　an　opportunity　of　whispering
to　him：

〃Not　in　my　roomin　the　library。〃　　I　presume　she　thought　it　would　be
more　prudent；　in　the　case　of　any　interruption。

After　dinner　that　evening；　Hugh　did　not　go　to　the　drawingroom　with
Mr。　Arnold；　but　out　into　the　woods　about　the　house。　　It　was　early　in
the　twilight；　for　now　the　sun　set　late。　　The　month　was　June；　and　the
even　a　rich；　dreamful；　rosy　eventhe　sleep　of　a　gorgeous　day。　〃It
is　like　the　soul　of　a　gracious　woman；〃　thought　Hugh；　charmed　into　a
lucid　interval　of　passion　by　the　loveliness　of　the　nature　around
him。　　Strange　to　tell；　at　that　moment；　instead　of　the　hushed　gloom
of　the　library；　towards　which　he　was　hoping　and　leaning　in　his　soul；
there　arose　before　him　the　bare；　stern；　leafless　pine…woodfor　who
can　call　its　foliage　leaves？with　the　chilly　wind　of　a　northern
spring　morning　blowing　through　it　with　a　wailing　noise　of　waters；
and　beneath　a　weird　fir…tree；　lofty；　gaunt；　and　huge；　with　bare
goblin　arms；　contorted　sweepily；　in　a　strange　mingling　of　the
sublime　and　the　grotesquebeneath　this　fir…tree；　Margaret　sitting
on　one　of　its　twisted　roots；　the　very　image　of　peace；　with　a　face
that　seemed　stilled　by　the　expected　approach　of　a　sacred　and　unknown
gladness；　a　face　that　would　blossom　the　more　gloriously　because　its
joy　delayed　its　coming。　　And　above　it；　the　tree　shone　a　〃still；〃
almost　〃awful　red；〃　in　the　level　light　of　the　morning。

The　vision　came　and　passed；　for　he　did　not　invite　its　stay：　it
rebuked　him　to　the　deepest　soul。　　He　strayed　in　troubled　pleasure；
restless　and　dissatisfied。　　Woods　of　the　richest　growth　were　around
him；　heaps　on　heaps　of　leaves　floating　above　him　like　clouds；　a
trackless　wilderness　of　airy　green；　wherein　one　might　wish　to　dwell
for　ever；　looking　down　into　the　vaults　and　aisles　of　the
long…ranging　boles　beneath。　　But　no　peace　could　rest　on　his　face；
only；　at　best；　a　false　mask；　put　on　to　hide　the　trouble　of　the
unresting　heart。　　Had　he　been　doing　his　duty　to　Harry；　his　love　for
Euphra；　however　unworthy　she　might　be；　would　not　have　troubled　him
thus。

He　came　upon　an　avenue。　　At　the　further　end　the　boughs　of　the　old
trees；　bare　of　leaves　beneath；　met　in　a　perfect　pointed　arch；　across
which　were　barred　the　lingering　colours　of　the　sunset；　transforming
the　whole　into　a　rich　window　full　of　stained　glass　and　complex
tracery；　closing　up　a　Gothic　aisle　in　a　temple　of　everlasting
worship。　　A　kind　of　holy　calm　fell　upon　him　as　he　regarded　the　dim；
dying　colours；　and　the　spirit　of　the　night；　a　something　that　is
neither　silence　nor　sound；　and　yet　is　like　both；　sank　into　his　soul；
and　made　a　moment　of　summer　twilight　there。　　He　walked　along　the
avenue　for　some　distance；　and　then；　leaving　it；　passed　on　through
the　woods。Suddenly　it　flashed　upon　him　that　he　had　crossed　the
Ghost's　Walk。　A　slight　but　cold　shudder　passed　through　the　region　of
his　heart。　　Then　he　laughed　at　himself；　and；　as　it　were　in　despite
of　his　own　tremor；　turned；　and　crossed　yet　again　the　path　of　the
ghost。

A　spiritual　epicure　in　his　pleasures；　he　would　not　spoil　the　effect
of　the　coming　meeting；　by　seeing　Euphra　in　the　drawingroom　first：　he
went　to　his　own　study；　where　he　remained　till　the　hour　had　nearly
arrived。　　He　tried　to　write　some　verses。　　But　he　found　that；
although　the　lovely　form　of　its　own　Naiad　lay　on　the　brink　of　the
Well　of　Song；　its　waters　would　not　flow：　during　the　sirocco　of
passion；　its　springs　withdraw　into　the　cool　caves　of　the　Life
beneath。　　At　length　he　rose；　too　much　preoccupied　to　mind　his　want
of　success；　and；　going　down　the　back　stair；　reached　the　library。
There　he　seated　himself；　and　tried　to　read　by　the　light　of　his
chamber…candle。　　But　it　was　scarcely　even　an　attempt；　for　every
moment　he　was　looking　up　to　the　door　by　which　he　expected　her　to
enter。

Suddenly　an　increase　of　light　warned　him　that　she　was　in　the　room。
How　she　had　entered　he　could　not　tell。　　One　hand　carried　her
candle；　the　light　of　which　fell　on　her　pale　face；　with　its　halo　of
blacknessher　hair；　which　looked　like　a　well　of　darkness；　that
threatened　to　break　from　its　bonds　and　overflood　the　room　with　a
second　night；　dark　enough　to　blot　out　that　which　was　now　looking　in；
treeful　and　deep；　at　the　uncurtained　windows。　　The　other　hand　was
busy　trying　to　incarcerate　a　stray　tress　which　had　escaped　from　its
net；　and　made　her　olive　shoulders　look　whi