the garden party(园会)-第33节
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and rubbed it with the toes of the other foot； she was trembling。 Oh； it
had all been so sad lately。 Was it going to change？ But all her grandma
said was； 〃Make haste； child。 I should leave your nice banana for the
stewardess as you haven't eaten it。〃 And Fenella put on her black clothes
again and a button sprang off one of her gloves and rolled to where she
couldn't reach it。 They went up on deck。
But if it had been cold in the cabin； on deck it was like ice。 The sun
was not up yet； but the stars were dim； and the cold pale sky was the same
colour as the cold pale sea。 On the land a white mist rose and fell。 Now
they could see quite plainly dark bush。 Even the shapes of the umbrella
ferns showed； and those strange silvery withered trees that are like
skeletons。。。Now they could see the landing…stage and some little houses；
pale too； clustered together； like shells on the lid of a box。 The other
passengers tramped up and down； but more slowly than they had the night
before； and they looked gloomy。
And now the landing…stage came out to meet them。 Slowly it swam
towards the Picton boat； and a man holding a coil of rope； and a cart with a
small drooping horse and another man sitting on the step； came too。
〃It's Mr。 Penreddy； Fenella； come for us；〃 said grandma。 She sounded
pleased。 Her white waxen cheeks were blue with cold； her chin trembled；
and she had to keep wiping her eyes and her little pink nose。
〃You've got my〃
〃Yes； grandma。〃 Fenella showed it to her。
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The rope came flying through the air； and 〃smack〃 it fell on to the
deck。 The gangway was lowered。 Again Fenella followed her grandma
on to the wharf over to the little cart； and a moment later they were
bowling away。 The hooves of the little horse drummed over the wooden
piles； then sank softly into the sandy road。 Not a soul was to be seen；
there was not even a feather of smoke。 The mist rose and fell and the sea
still sounded asleep as slowly it turned on the beach。
〃I seen Mr。 Crane yestiddy；〃 said Mr。 Penreddy。 〃He looked himself
then。 Missus knocked him up a batch of scones last week。〃
And now the little horse pulled up before one of the shell…like houses。
They got down。 Fenella put her hand on the gate； and the big； trembling
dew…drops soaked through her glove…tips。 Up a little path of round white
pebbles they went； with drenched sleeping flowers on either side。
Grandma's delicate white picotees were so heavy with dew that they were
fallen； but their sweet smell was part of the cold morning。 The blinds
were down in the little house； they mounted the steps on to the veranda。
A pair of old bluchers was on one side of the door； and a large red
watering… can on the other。
〃Tut！ tut！ Your grandpa；〃 said grandma。 She turned the handle。
Not a sound。 She called； 〃Walter！〃 And immediately a deep voice that
sounded half stifled called back； 〃Is that you； Mary？〃
〃Wait； dear；〃 said grandma。 〃Go in there。〃 She pushed Fenella
gently into a small dusky sitting…room。
On the table a white cat； that had been folded up like a camel； rose；
stretched itself； yawned； and then sprang on to the tips of its toes。
Fenella buried one cold little hand in the white； warm fur； and smiled
timidly while she stroked and listened to grandma's gentle voice and the
rolling tones of grandpa。
A door creaked。 〃Come in； dear。〃 The old woman beckoned；
Fenella followed。 There； lying to one side on an immense bed； lay
grandpa。 Just his head with a white tuft and his rosy face and long silver
beard showed over the quilt。 He was like a very old wide…awake bird。
〃Well； my girl！〃 said grandpa。 〃Give us a kiss！〃 Fenella kissed him。
〃Ugh！〃 said grandpa。 〃Her little nose is as cold as a button。 What's that
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she's holding？ Her grandma's umbrella？〃
Fenella smiled again； and crooked the swan neck over the bed…rail。
Above the bed there was a big text in a deep black frame：
〃Lost！ One Golden Hour Set with Sixty Diamond Minutes。 No
Reward Is Offered For It Is Gone For Ever！〃
〃Yer grandma painted that；〃 said grandpa。 And he ruffled his white
tuft and looked at Fenella so merrily she almost thought he winked at her。
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9。 MISS BRILL。
Although it was so brilliantly finethe blue sky powdered with gold
and great spots of light like white wine splashed over the Jardins
Publiques Miss Brill was glad that she had decided on her fur。 The air
was motionless； but when you opened your mouth there was just a faint
chill； like a chill from a glass of iced water before you sip； and now and
again a leaf came driftingfrom nowhere； from the sky。 Miss Brill put
up her hand and touched her fur。 Dear little thing！ It was nice to feel it
again。 She had taken it out of its box that afternoon； shaken out the
moth…powder； given it a good brush； and rubbed the life back into the dim
little eyes。 〃What has been happening to me？〃 said the sad little eyes。
Oh； how sweet it was to see them snap at her again from the red
eiderdown！。。。But the nose； which was of some black composition； wasn't
at all firm。 It must have had a knock； somehow。 Never minda little
dab of black sealing…wax when the time camewhen it was absolutely
necessary。。。Little rogue！ Yes； she really felt like that about it。 Little
rogue biting its tail just by her left ear。 She could have taken it off and
laid it on her lap and stroked it。 She felt a tingling in her hands and arms；
but that came from walking； she supposed。 And when she breathed；
something light and sadno； not sad； exactlysomething gentle seemed to
move in her bosom。
There were a number of people out this afternoon； far more than last
Sunday。 And the band sounded louder and gayer。 That was because the
Season had begun。 For although the band played all the year round on
Sundays； out of season it was never the same。 It was like some one
playing with only the family to listen； it didn't care how it played if there
weren't any strangers present。 Wasn't the conductor wearing a new coat；
too？ She was sure it was new。 He scraped with his foot and flapped his
arms like a rooster about to crow； and the bandsmen sitting in the green
rotunda blew out their cheeks and glared at the music。 Now there came a
little 〃flutey〃 bitvery pretty！a little chain of bright drops。 She was
sure it would be repeated。 It was； she lifted her head and smiled。
Only two people shared her 〃special〃 seat： a fine old man in a velvet
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coat； his hands clasped over a huge carved walking…stick； and a big old
woman； sitting upright； with a roll of knitting on her embroidered apron。
They did not speak。 This was disappointing； for Miss Brill always
looked forward to the conversation。 She had become really quite expert；
she thought； at listening as though she didn't listen； at sitting in other
people's lives just for a minute while they talked round her。
She glanced； sideways； at the old couple。 Perhaps they would go
soon。 Last Sunday； too； hadn't been as interesting as usual。 An
Englishman and his wife； he wearing a dreadful
