weir of hermiston-第17节
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could not follow the prayer； not even the heads of it。 Brightnesses
of azure； clouds of fragrance； a tinkle of falling water and singing
birds； rose like exhalations from some deeper； aboriginal memory； that
was not his； but belonged to the flesh on his bones。 His body
remembered； and it seemed to him that his body was in no way gross；
but ethereal and perishable like a strain of music； and he felt for it
an exquisite tenderness as for a child； an innocent； full of beautiful
instincts and destined to an early death。 And he felt for old Torrance
… of the many supplications； of the few days … a pity that was near to
tears。 The prayer ended。 Right over him was a tablet in the wall； the
only ornament in the roughly masoned chapel … for it was no more； the
tablet commemorated； I was about to say the virtues； but rather the
existence of a former Rutherford of Hermiston； and Archie； under that
trophy of his long descent and local greatness； leaned back in the pew
and contemplated vacancy with the shadow of a smile between playful and
sad； that became him strangely。 Dandie's sister； sitting by the side of
Clem in her new Glasgow finery； chose that moment to observe the young
laird。 Aware of the stir of his entrance； the little formalist had kept
her eyes fastened and her face prettily composed during the prayer。 It
was not hypocrisy； there was no one further from a hypocrite。 The girl
had been taught to behave： to look up； to look down； to look
unconscious； to look seriously impressed in church； and in every
conjuncture to look her best。 That was the game of female life； and she
played it frankly。 Archie was the one person in church who was of
interest； who was somebody new； reputed eccentric； known to be young；
and a laird； and still unseen by Christina。 Small wonder that； as
she stood there in her attitude of pretty decency； her mind should run
upon him！ If he spared a glance in her direction； he should know she
was a well…behaved young lady who had been to Glasgow。 In reason he
must admire her clothes； and it was possible that he should think her
pretty。 At that her heart beat the least thing in the world； and she
proceeded； by way of a corrective； to call up and dismiss a series of
fancied pictures of the young man who should now； by rights； be looking
at her。 She settled on the plainest of them； … a pink short young man
with a dish face and no figure； at whose admiration she could afford to
smile； but for all that； the consciousness of his gaze （which was really
fixed on Torrance and his mittens） kept her in something of a flutter
till the word Amen。 Even then； she was far too well…bred to gratify her
curiosity with any impatience。 She resumed her seat languidly … this was
a Glasgow touch … she composed her dress； rearranged her nosegay of
primroses； looked first in front； then behind upon the other side； and
at last allowed her eyes to move； without hurry； in the direction of
the Hermiston pew。 For a moment； they were riveted。 Next she had
plucked her gaze home again like a tame bird who should have meditated
flight。 Possibilities crowded on her； she hung over the future and grew
dizzy； the image of this young man； slim； graceful； dark； with the
inscrutable half…smile； attracted and repelled her like a chasm。 〃I
wonder； will I have met my fate？〃 she thought； and her heart swelled。
Torrance was got some way into his first exposition； positing a deep
layer of texts as he went along； laying the foundations of his
discourse； which was to deal with a nice point in divinity； before
Archie suffered his eyes to wander。 They fell first of all on Clem；
looking insupportably prosperous； and patronising Torrance with the
favour of a modified attention； as of one who was used to better things
in Glasgow。 Though he had never before set eyes on him； Archie had no
difficulty in identifying him； and no hesitation in pronouncing him
vulgar； the worst of the family。 Clem was leaning lazily forward when
Archie first saw him。 Presently he leaned nonchalantly back； and that
deadly instrument； the maiden； was suddenly unmasked in profile。 Though
not quite in the front of the fashion （had anybody cared！）； certain
artful Glasgow mantua…makers； and her own inherent taste； had arrayed
her to great advantage。 Her accoutrement was； indeed； a cause of heart…
burning； and almost of scandal； in that infinitesimal kirk company。
Mrs。 Hob had said her say at Cauldstaneslap。 〃Daft…like！〃 she had
pronounced it。 〃A jaiket that'll no meet！ Whaur's the sense of a
jaiket that'll no button upon you； if it should come to be weet？ What
do ye ca' thir things？ Demmy brokens； d'ye say？ They'll be brokens wi'
a vengeance or ye can win back！ Weel； I have nae thing to do wi' it …
it's no good taste。〃 Clem； whose purse had thus metamorphosed his
sister； and who was not insensible to the advertisement； had come to the
rescue with a 〃Hoot； woman！ What do you ken of good taste that has
never been to the ceety？〃 And Hob； looking on the girl with pleased
smiles； as she timidly displayed her finery in the midst of the dark
kitchen； had thus ended the dispute： 〃The cutty looks weel；〃 he had
said； 〃and it's no very like rain。 Wear them the day； hizzie； but it's
no a thing to make a practice o'。〃 In the breasts of her rivals； coming
to the kirk very conscious of white under…linen； and their faces
splendid with much soap； the sight of the toilet had raised a storm of
varying emotion； from the mere unenvious admiration that was expressed
in a long…drawn 〃Eh！〃 to the angrier feeling that found vent in an
emphatic 〃Set her up！〃 Her frock was of straw…coloured jaconet muslin；
cut low at the bosom and short at the ankle； so as to display her DEMI…
BROQUINS of Regency violet； crossing with many straps upon a yellow
cobweb stocking。 According to the pretty fashion in which our
grandmothers did not hesitate to appear； and our great…aunts went forth
armed for the pursuit and capture of our great…uncles； the dress was
drawn up so as to mould the contour of both breasts； and in the nook
between； a cairngorm brooch maintained it。 Here； too； surely in a very
enviable position； trembled the nosegay of primroses。 She wore on her
shoulders … or rather on her back and not her shoulders； which it
scarcely passed … a French coat of sarsenet； tied in front with Margate
braces； and of the same colour with her violet shoes。 About her face
clustered a disorder of dark ringlets； a little garland of yellow French
roses surmounted her brow； and the whole was crowned by a village hat of
chipped straw。 Amongst all the rosy and all the weathered faces that
surrounded her in church； she glowed like an open flower … girl and
raiment； and the cairngorm that caught the daylight and returned it in a
fiery flash； and the threads of bronze and gold that played in her hair。
Archie was attracted by the bright thing like a child。 He looked at her
again and yet again； and their looks crossed。 The lip was lifted from
her little teeth。 He saw the red blood work vividly under her tawny
skin。 Her eye； which was great as a stag's； struck and held his gaze。
He knew who she must be … Kirstie； she of the harsh diminutive； his
housekeeper's niece； the sister of the rustic prophet； Gib … and he
found in her the answer to his wishes。
Christina felt the shock of their encountering glances； and seemed to
rise； clothed in smiles； into a region of the vague and bright。 But the
gratification was not more exquisite than it was brief。 She looked away
abruptly； and immediately began to blame herself for that abruptness。
She knew what she should have done； too late … turned slowly with her
nose in the air。 And meantime his look was not removed； but continued
to play upon her like a battery of cannon constantly aimed； and now
seemed to isolate her alone with him； and now seemed to uplift her； as
on a pillory； before the congregation。 For Archie continued to drink
her in with his eyes； even as a wayfarer comes to a well…head on a
mountain； and stoops his face； and drinks with thirst unassuageable。 In
the cleft of her little breasts the fiery eye of the topaz and the pale
florets of primrose fascinated him。 He saw the breasts heave； and the
flowers shake with the heaving； and marvelled what should so much
discompose the girl。 And Christina was conscious of his gaze … saw it；
perhaps； with the dainty plaything of an ear that peeped among her
ringlets； she was conscious of changing colour； conscious of her
unsteady breath。 Like a creature tracked； run down； surrounded； she
sought in a dozen ways to give herself a countenance。 She used her
handkerchief … it was a really fine one … then she desisted in a panic：
〃He would only think I was too warm。〃 She took to reading in the
metrical psalms； and then remembered it was sermon…tim
