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the unbearable bassington-第22节

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departure。  The tete…a…tete had not been a pleasant one; at any 

rate as far as Francesca was concerned; but at least it had brought 

her the information for which she had been seeking。  Her role of 

looker…on from a tactful distance had necessarily left her much in 

the dark concerning the progress of the all…important wooing; but 

during the last few hours she had; on slender though significant 

evidence; exchanged her complacent expectancy for a conviction that 

something had gone wrong。  She had spent the previous evening at 

her brother's house; and had naturally seen nothing of Comus in 

that uncongenial quarter; neither had he put in an appearance at 

the breakfast table the following morning。  She had met him in the 

hall at eleven o'clock; and he had hurried past her; merely 

imparting the information that he would not be in till dinner that 

evening。  He spoke in his sulkiest tone; and his face wore a look 

of defeat; thinly masked by an air of defiance; it was not the 

defiance of a man who is losing; but of one who has already lost。



Francesca's conviction that things had gone wrong between Comus and 

Elaine de Frey grew in strength as the day wore on。  She lunched at 

a friend's house; but it was not a quarter where special social 

information of any importance was likely to come early to hand。  

Instead of the news she was hankering for; she had to listen to 

trivial gossip and speculation on the flirtations and 〃cases〃 and 

〃affairs〃 of a string of acquaintances whose matrimonial projects 

interested her about as much as the nesting arrangements of the 

wildfowl in St。 James's Park。



〃Of course;〃 said her hostess; with the duly impressive emphasis of 

a privileged chronicler; 〃we've always regarded Claire as the 

marrying one of the family; so when Emily came to us and said; 

'I've got some news for you;' we all said; 'Claire's engaged!'  

'Oh; no;' said Emily; 'it's not Claire this time; it's me。'  So 

then we had to guess who the lucky man was。  'It can't be Captain 

Parminter;' we all said; 'because he's always been sweet on Joan。'  

And then Emily said … 〃



The recording voice reeled off the catalogue of inane remarks with 

a comfortable purring complacency that held out no hope of an early 

abandoning of the topic。  Francesca sat and wondered why the 

innocent acceptance of a cutlet and a glass of indifferent claret 

should lay one open to such unsparing punishment。



A stroll homeward through the Park after lunch brought no further 

enlightenment on the subject that was uppermost in her mind; what 

was worse; it brought her; without possibility of escape; within 

hailing distance of Merla Blathington; who fastened on to her with 

the enthusiasm of a lonely tsetse fly encountering an outpost of 

civilisation。



〃Just think;〃 she buzzed inconsequently; 〃my sister in 

Cambridgeshire has hatched out thirty…three White Orpington 

chickens in her incubator!〃



〃What eggs did she put in it?〃 asked Francesca。



〃Oh; some very special strain of White Orpington。〃



〃Then I don't see anything remarkable in the result。  If she had 

put in crocodile's eggs and hatched out White Orpingtons; there 

might have been something to write to COUNTRY LIFE about。〃



〃What funny fascinating things these little green park…chairs are;〃 

said Merla; starting off on a fresh topic; 〃they always look so 

quaint and knowing when they're stuck away in pairs by themselves 

under the trees; as if they were having a heart…to…heart talk or 

discussing a piece of very private scandal。  If they could only 

speak; what tragedies and comedies they could tell us of; what 

flirtations and proposals。〃



〃Let us be devoutly thankful that they can't;〃 said Francesca; with 

a shuddering recollection of the luncheon…table conversation。



〃Of course; it would make one very careful what one said before 

them … or above them rather;〃 Merla rattled on; and then; to 

Francesca's infinite relief; she espied another acquaintance 

sitting in unprotected solitude; who promised to supply a more 

durable audience than her present rapidly moving companion。  

Francesca was free to return to her drawing…room in Blue Street to 

await with such patience as she could command the coming of some 

visitor who might be able to throw light on the subject that was 

puzzling and disquieting her。  The arrival of George St。 Michael 

boded bad news; but at any rate news; and she gave him an almost 

cordial welcome。



〃Well; you see I wasn't far wrong about Miss de Frey and Courtenay 

Youghal; was I?〃 he chirruped; almost before he had seated himself。  

Francesca was to be spared any further spinning…out of her period 

of uncertainty。  〃Yes; it's officially given out;〃 he went on; 〃and 

it's to appear in the MORNING POST to…morrow。  I heard it from 

Colonel Deel this morning; and he had it direct from Youghal 

himself。  Yes; please; one lump; I'm not fashionable; you see。〃  He 

had made the same remark about the sugar in his tea with unfailing 

regularity for at least thirty years。  Fashions in sugar are 

apparently stationary。  〃They say;〃 he continued; hurriedly; 〃that 

he proposed to her on the Terrace of the House; and a division bell 

rang; and he had to hurry off before she had time to give her 

answer; and when he got back she simply said; 'the Ayes have it。'〃  

St。 Michael paused in his narrative to give an appreciative giggle。



〃Just the sort of inanity that would go the rounds;〃 remarked 

Francesca; with the satisfaction of knowing that she was making the 

criticism direct to the author and begetter of the inanity in 

question。  Now that the blow had fallen and she knew the full 

extent of its weight; her feeling towards the bringer of bad news; 

who sat complacently nibbling at her tea…cakes and scattering 

crumbs of tiresome small…talk at her feet; was one of wholehearted 

dislike。  She could sympathise with; or at any rate understand; the 

tendency of oriental despots to inflict death or ignominious 

chastisement on messengers bearing tidings of misfortune and 

defeat; and St。 Michael; she perfectly well knew; was thoroughly 

aware of the fact that her hopes and wishes had been centred on the 

possibility of having Elaine for a daughter…in…law; every purring 

remark that his mean little soul prompted him to contribute to the 

conversation had an easily recognizable undercurrent of malice。  

Fortunately for her powers of polite endurance; which had been put 

to such searching and repeated tests that day; St。 Michael had 

planned out for himself a busy little time…table of afternoon 

visits; at each of which his self…appointed task of forestalling 

and embellishing the newspaper announcements of the Youghal…de Frey 

engagement would be hurriedly but thoroughly performed。



〃They'll be quite one of the best…looking and most interesting 

couples of the Season; won't they?〃 he cried; by way of farewell。  

The door closed and Francesca Bassington sat alone in her drawing…

room。



Before she could give way to the bitter luxury of reflection on the 

downfall of her hopes; it was prudent to take precautionary 

measures against unwelcome intrusion。  Summoning the maid who had 

just speeded the departing St。 Michael; she gave the order: 〃I am 

not at home this afternoon to Lady Caroline Benaresq。〃  On second 

thoughts she extended the taboo to all possible callers; and sent a 

telephone message to catch Comus at his club; asking him to come 

and see her as soon as he could manage before it was time to dress 

for dinner。  Then she sat down to think; and her thinking was 

beyond the relief of tears。



She had built herself a castle of hopes; and it had not been a 

castle in Spain; but a structure well on the probable side of the 

Pyrenees。  There had been a solid foundation on which to build。  

Miss de Frey's fortune was an assured and unhampered one; her 

liking for Comus had been an obvious fact; his courtship of her a 

serious reality。  The young people had been much together in 

public; and their names had naturally been coupled in the match…

making gossip of the day。  The only serious shadow cast over the 

scene had been the persistent presence; in foreground or 

background; of Courtenay Youghal。  And now the shadow suddenly 

stood forth as the reality; and the castle of hopes was a ruin; a 

hideous mortification of dust and debris; with the skeleton 

outlines of its chambers still standing to make mockery of its 

discomfited architect。  The daily anxiety about Comus and his 

extravagant ways and intractable disposition had been gradually 

lulled by the prospect of his making an advantageous marriage; 

which would have transformed him from a ne'er…do…well and 

adventurer into a wealthy idler。  He might even have been moulded; 

by the resourceful influence of an ambitious wife; into a man with 

some definite purpose in life。  The prospect

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