desperate remedies-第18节

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herself　into　contact　with　the　one　woman　in　the　world　whose　history
was　so　romantically　intertwined　with　her　own。　　She　almost　began　to
wish　she　were　not　obliged　to　go　away　and　leave　the　lonely　being　to
loneliness　still。

In　bed　and　in　the　dark；　Miss　Aldclyffe　haunted　her　mind　more
persistently　than　ever。　　Instead　of　sleeping；　she　called　up　staring
visions　of　the　possible　past　of　this　queenly　lady；　her　mother's
rival。　　Up　the　long　vista　of　bygone　years　she　saw；　behind　all；　the
young　girl's　flirtation；　little　or　much；　with　the　cousin；　that
seemed　to　have　been　nipped　in　the　bud；　or　to　have　terminated　hastily
in　some　way。　　Then　the　secret　meetings　between　Miss　Aldclyffe　and
the　other　woman　at　the　little　inn　at　Hammersmith　and　other　places：
the　commonplace　name　she　adopted：　　her　swoon　at　some　painful　news；
and　the　very　slight　knowledge　the　elder　female　had　of　her　partner　in
mystery。　　Then；　more　than　a　year　afterwards；　the　acquaintanceship　of
her　own　father　with　this　his　first　love；　the　awakening　of　the
passion；　his　acts　of　devotion；　the　unreasoning　heat　of　his　rapture；
her　tacit　acceptance　of　it；　and　yet　her　uneasiness　under　the
delight。　　Then　his　declaration　amid　the　evergreens：　　the　utter
change　produced　in　her　manner　thereby；　seemingly　the　result　of　a
rigid　determination：　　and　the　total　concealment　of　her　reason　by
herself　and　her　parents；　whatever　it　was。　　Then　the　lady's　course
dropped　into　darkness；　and　nothing　more　was　visible　till　she　was
discovered　here　at　Knapwater；　nearly　fifty　years　old；　still
unmarried　and　still　beautiful；　but　lonely；　embittered；　and　haughty。
Cytherea　imagined　that　her　father's　image　was　still　warmly　cherished
in　Miss　Aldclyffe's　heart；　and　was　thankful　that　she　herself　had　not
been　betrayed　into　announcing　that　she　knew　many　particulars　of　this
page　of　her　father's　history；　and　the　chief　one；　the　lady's
unaccountable　renunciation　of　him。　　It　would　have　made　her　bearing
towards　the　mistress　of　the　mansion　more　awkward；　and　would　have
been　no　benefit　to　either。

Thus　conjuring　up　the　past；　and　theorizing　on　the　present；　she　lay
restless；　changing　her　posture　from　one　side　to　the　other　and　back
again。　　Finally；　when　courting　sleep　with　all　her　art；　she　heard　a
clock　strike　two。　　A　minute　later；　and　she　fancied　she　could
distinguish　a　soft　rustle　in　the　passage　outside　her　room。

To　bury　her　head　in　the　sheets　was　her　first　impulse；　then　to
uncover　it；　raise　herself　on　her　elbow；　and　stretch　her　eyes　wide
open　in　the　darkness；　her　lips　being　parted　with　the　intentness　of
her　listening。　　Whatever　the　noise　was；　it　had　ceased　for　the　time。

It　began　again　and　came　close　to　her　door；　lightly　touching　the
panels。　　Then　there　was　another　stillness；　Cytherea　made　a　movement
which　caused　a　faint　rustling　of　the　bed…clothes。

Before　she　had　time　to　think　another　thought　a　light　tap　was　given。
Cytherea　breathed：　　the　person　outside　was　evidently　bent　upon
finding　her　awake；　and　the　rustle　she　had　made　had　encouraged　the
hope。　　The　maiden's　physical　condition　shifted　from　one　pole　to　its
opposite。　　The　cold　sweat　of　terror　forsook　her；　and　modesty　took
the　alarm。　　She　became　hot　and　red；　her　door　was　not　locked。

A　distinct　woman's　whisper　came　to　her　through　the　keyhole：
'Cytherea！'

Only　one　being　in　the　house　knew　her　Christian　name；　and　that　was
Miss　Aldclyffe。　　Cytherea　stepped　out　of　bed；　went　to　the　door；　and
whispered　back；　'Yes？'

'Let　me　come　in；　darling。'

The　young　woman　paused　in　a　conflict　between　judgment　and　emotion。
It　was　now　mistress　and　maid　no　longer；　woman　and　woman　only。　　Yes；
she　must　let　her　come　in；　poor　thing。

She　got　a　light　in　an　instant；　opened　the　door；　and　raising　her　eyes
and　the　candle；　saw　Miss　Aldclyffe　standing　outside　in　her　dressing…
gown。

'Now　you　see　that　it　is　really　myself；　put　out　the　light；'　said　the
visitor。　　'I　want　to　stay　here　with　you；　Cythie。　　I　came　to　ask　you
to　come　down　into　my　bed；　but　it　is　snugger　here。　　But　remember　that
you　are　mistress　in　this　room；　and　that　I　have　no　business　here；　and
that　you　may　send　me　away　if　you　choose。　　Shall　I　go？'

'O　no；　you　shan't　indeed　if　you　don't　want　to；'　said　Cythie
generously。

The　instant　they　were　in　bed　Miss　Aldclyffe　freed　herself　from　the
last　remnant　of　restraint。　　She　flung　her　arms　round　the　young　girl；
and　pressed　her　gently　to　her　heart。

'Now　kiss　me；'　she　said。

Cytherea；　upon　the　whole；　was　rather　discomposed　at　this　change　of
treatment；　and；　discomposed　or　no；　her　passions　were　not　so
impetuous　as　Miss　Aldclyffe's。　　She　could　not　bring　her　soul　to　her
lips　for　a　moment；　try　how　she　would。

'Come；　kiss　me；'　repeated　Miss　Aldclyffe。

Cytherea　gave　her　a　very　small　one；　as　soft　in　touch　and　in　sound　as
the　bursting　of　a　bubble。

'More　earnestly　than　thatcome。'

She　gave　another；　a　little　but　not　much　more　expressively。

'I　don't　deserve　a　more　feeling　one；　I　suppose；'　said　Miss
Aldclyffe；　with　an　emphasis　of　sad　bitterness　in　her　tone。　　'I　am　an
ill…tempered　woman；　you　think；　half　out　of　my　mind。　　Well；　perhaps　I
am；　but　I　have　had　grief　more　than　you　can　think　or　dream　of。　　But　I
can't　help　loving　youyour　name　is　the　same　as　mineisn't　it
strange？'

Cytherea　was　inclined　to　say　no；　but　remained　silent。

'Now；　don't　you　think　I　must　love　you？'　continued　the　other。

'Yes；'　said　Cytherea　absently。　　She　was　still　thinking　whether　duty
to　Owen　and　her　father；　which　asked　for　silence　on　her　knowledge　of
her　father's　unfortunate　love；　or　duty　to　the　woman　embracing　her；
which　seemed　to　ask　for　confidence；　ought　to　predominate。　　Here　was
a　solution。　　She　would　wait　till　Miss　Aldclyffe　referred　to　her
acquaintanceship　and　attachment　to　Cytherea's　father　in　past　times：
then　she　would　tell　her　all　she　knew：　　that　would　be　honour。

'Why　can't　you　kiss　me　as　I　can　kiss　you？　　Why　can't　you！'　　She
impressed　upon　Cytherea's　lips　a　warm　motherly　salute；　given　as　if
in　the　outburst　of　strong　feeling；　long　checked；　and　yearning　for
something　to　love　and　be　loved　by　in　return。

'Do　you　think　badly　of　me　for　my　behaviour　this　evening；　child？　　I
don't　know　why　I　am　so　foolish　as　to　speak　to　you　in　this　way。　　I　am
a　very　fool；　I　believe。　　Yes。　　How　old　are　you？'

'Eighteen。'

'Eighteen！　。　。　。　　Well；　why　don't　you　ask　me　how　old　I　am？'

'Because　I　don't　want　to　know。'

'Never　mind　if　you　don't。　　I　am　forty…six；　and　it　gives　me　greater
pleasure　to　tell　you　this　than　it　does　to　you　to　listen。　　I　have　not
told　my　age　truly　for　the　last　twenty　years　till　now。'

'Why　haven't　you？'

'I　have　met　deceit　by　deceit；　till　I　am　weary　of　itweary；　weary
and　I　long　to　be　what　I　shall　never　be　againartless　and　innocent；
like　you。　　But　I　suppose　that　you；　too；　will；　prove　to　be　not　worth
a　thought；　as　every　new　friend　does　on　more　intimate　knowledge。
Come；　why　don't　you　talk　to　me；　child？　　Have　you　said　your　prayers？'

'Yesno！　　I　forgot　them　to…night。'

'I　suppose　you　say　them　every　night　as　a　rule？'

'Yes。'

'Why　do　you　do　that？'

'Because　I　have　always　done　so；　and　it　would　seem　strange　if　I　were
not　to。　　Do　you？'

'I？　　A　wicked　old　sinner　like　me！　　No；　I　never　do。　　I　have　thought
all　such　matters　humbug　for　yearsthought　so　so　long　that　I　should
be　glad　to　think　otherwise　from　very　weariness；　and　yet；　such　is　the
code　of　the　polite　world；　that　I　subscribe　regularly　to　Missionary
Societies　and　others　of　the　sort。　。　。　。　　Well；　say　your　prayers；
dearyou　won't　omit　them　now　you　recollect　it。　　I　should　like　to
hear　you　very　much。　　Will　you？'

'It　seems　hardly'

'It　would　seem　so　like　old　times　to　mewhen　I　was　young；　and
nearerfar　nearer　Heaven　than　I　am　now。　　Do；　sweet　one；'

Cytherea　was　embarrassed；　and　her　embarrassment　arose　from　the
following　conjuncture　of　affairs。　　Since　she　had　loved　Edward
Springrove；　she　had　linked　his　name　with　her　brother　Owen's　in　her
nightly　supplications　to　the　Almighty。　　She　wished　to　keep　her　love
for　him　a　secret；　and；　above　all；　a　secret　from　a　woman　like　Miss
Aldclyffe；　yet　her　conscience　and　the　honesty　of　her　love　would　not
for　an　instant　allow　her　to　think　of　omitting　his　dear　name；　and　so
endanger　the　efficacy　of　all　her　previous　prayers　for　his　success　by
an　unworthy　shame　now：　　it　would　be　wicked　of　her；　she　thought；　and
a　grievous　wrong　to　him。　　Under　any　worldly　circumstances　she　might
have　thought　the　position　justified　a　little　finesse；　and　have
skipped　him　for　once；　but　prayer　was　too　solemn　a　thing　for　such
trifling。

'I　would　rather　not　say　them；'　she　murmured　first。　　It　struck　her
then　that　this　declining　altogether　was　the　same　cowardice　in
another　dress；　and　was　delivering　her　poor　Edward　over　to　Satan　just
as　unceremoniously　as　before。　　'Yes；　I　will　say　my　prayers；　and　you
shall　hear　me；'　she　added　firmly。

She　turned　her　face　to　the　pillow　and　repeated　in　low　soft　tones　the
simple　words　she　had　used　from　childhood　on　such　occasions。　　Owen's
name　was　mentioned　without　faltering；　but　in　the　other　case；
maidenly　shyness　was　too　strong　even　for　religion；　and　that　when
supported　by　excellent　intentions。　　At　the　name　of　Edward　she
stammered；　and　her　voice　sank　to　the　faintest　whisper　in　spite　of
her。

'Thank　you；　deare