The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第18部分

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new　world　was　discovered；　it　remained　only　to　be　explored。

They　had　passed　through　the　doorway　into　the　further　space；
where　movement　was　so　big；　that　it　contained　bonds　and
constraints　and　labours；　and　still　was　plete　liberty。　She　was
the　doorway　to　him；　he　to　her。　At　last　they　had　thrown　open　the
doors；　each　to　the　other；　and　had　stood　in　the　doorways　facing
each　other；　whilst　the　light　flooded　out　from　behind　on　to　each
of　their　faces；　it　was　the　transfiguration；　glorification；　the
admission。

And　always　the　light　of　the　transfiguration　burned　on　in
their　hearts。　He　went　his　way；　as　before；　she　went　her　way；　to
the　rest　of　the　world　there　seemed　no　change。　But　to　the　two　of
them；　there　was　the　perpetual　wonder　of　the　transfiguration。

He　did　not　know　her　any　better；　any　more　precisely；　now　that
he　knew　her　altogether。　Poland；　her　husband；　the　war……he
understood　no　more　of　this　in　her。　He　did　not　understand　her
foreign　nature；　half　German；　half　Polish；　nor　her　foreign
speech。　But　he　knew　her；　he　knew　her　meaning；　without
understanding。　What　she　said；　what　she　spoke；　this　was　a　blind
gesture　on　her　part。　In　herself　she　walked　strong　and　clear；　he
knew　her；　he　saluted　her；　was　with　her。　What　was　memory　after
all；　but　the　recording　of　a　number　of　possibilities　which　had
never　been　fulfilled？　What　was　Paul　Lensky　to　her；　but　an
unfulfilled　possibility　to　which　he；　Brangwen；　was　the　reality
and　the　fulfilment？　What　did　it　matter；　that　Anna　Lensky　was
born　of　Lydia　and　Paul？　God　was　her　father　and　her　mother。　He
had　passed　through　the　married　pair　without　fully　making　Himself
known　to　them。

Now　He　was　declared　to　Brangwen　and　to　Lydia　Brangwen；　as
they　stood　together。　When　at　last　they　had　joined　hands；　the
house　was　finished；　and　the　Lord　took　up　his　abode。　And　they
were　glad。

The　days　went　on　as　before；　Brangwen　went　out　to　his　work；
his　wife　nursed　her　child　and　attended　in　some　measure　to　the
farm。　They　did　not　think　of　each　other…why　should　they？　Only
when　she　touched　him；　he　knew　her　instantly；　that　she　was　with
him；　near　him；　that　she　was　the　gateway　and　the　way　out；　that
she　was　beyond；　and　that　he　was　travelling　in　her　through　the
beyond。　Whither？……What　does　it　matter？　He　responded　always。
When　she　called；　he　answered；　when　he　asked；　her　response　came
at　once；　or　at　length。

Anna's　soul　was　put　at　peace　between　them。　She　looked　from
one　to　the　other；　and　she　saw　them　established　to　her　safety；
and　she　was　free。　She　played　between　the　pillar　of　fire　and　the
pillar　of　cloud　in　confidence；　having　the　assurance　on　her　right
hand　and　the　assurance　on　her　left。　She　was　no　longer　called
upon　to　uphold　with　her　childish　might　the　broken　end　of　the
arch。　Her　father　and　her　mother　now　met　to　the　span　of　the
heavens；　and　she；　the　child；　was　free　to　play　in　the　space
beneath；　between。



CHAPTER　IV

GIRLHOOD　OF　ANNE　BRANGWEN

When　Anna　was　nine　years　old；　Brangwen　sent　her　to　the　dames'
school　in　Cossethay。　There　she　went；　flipping　and　dancing　in　her
inconsequential　fashion；　doing　very　much　as　she　liked；
disconcerting　old　Miss　Coates　by　her　indifference　to
respectability　and　by　her　lack　of　reverence。　Anna　only　laughed
at　Miss　Coates；　liked　her；　and　patronized　her　in　superb；
childish　fashion。

The　girl　was　at　once　shy　and　wild。　She　had　a　curious　contempt
for　ordinary　people；　a　benevolent　superiority。　She　was　very　shy；
and　tortured　with　misery　when　people　did　not　like　her。　On　the
other　hand；　she　cared　very　little　for　anybody　save　her　mother；
whom　she　still　rather　resentfully　worshipped；　and　her　father；
whom　she　loved　and　patronized；　but　upon　whom　she　depended。　These
two；　her　mother　and　father；　held　her　still　in　fee。　But　she　was
free　of　other　people；　towards　whom；　on　the　whole；　she　took　the
benevolent　attitude。　She　deeply　hated　ugliness　or　intrusion　or
arrogance；　however。　As　a　child；　she　was　as　proud　and　shadowy　as
a　tiger；　and　as　aloof。　She　could　confer　favours；　but；　save　from
her　mother　and　father；　she　could　receive　none。　She　hated　people
who　came　too　near　to　her。　Like　a　wild　thing；　she　wanted　her
distance。　She　mistrusted　intimacy。

In　Cossethay　and　Ilkeston　she　was　always　an　alien。　She　had
plenty　of　acquaintances；　but　no　friends。　Very　few　people　whom
she　met　were　significant　to　her。　They　seemed　part　of　a　herd；
undistinguished。　She　did　not　take　people　very　seriously。

She　had　two　brothers；　Tom；　dark…haired；　small；　volatile；　whom
she　was　intimately　related　to　but　whom　she　never　mingled　with；
and　Fred；　fair　and　responsive；　whom　she　adored　but　did　not
consider　as　a　real；　separate　thing。　She　was　too　much　the　centre
of　her　own　universe；　too　little　aware　of　anything　outside。

The　first　person　she　met；　who　affected　her　as　a　real；
living　person；　whom　she　regarded　as　having　definite　existence；
was　Baron　Skrebensky；　her　mother's　friend。　He　also　was　a　Polish
exile；　who　had　taken　orders；　and　had　received　from　Mr。　Gladstone
a　small　country　living　in　Yorkshire。

When　Anna　was　about　ten　years　old；　she　went　with　her　mother
to　spend　a　few　days　with　the　Baron　Skrebensky。　He　was　very
unhappy　in　his　red…brick　vicarage。　He　was　vicar　of　a　country
church；　a　living　worth　a　little　over　two　hundred　pounds　a　year；
but　he　had　a　large　parish　containing　several　collieries；　with　a
new；　raw；　heathen　population。　He　went　to　the　north　of　England
expecting　homage　from　the　mon　people；　for　he　was　an
aristocrat。　He　was　roughly；　even　cruelly　received。　But　he　never
understood　it。　He　remained　a　fiery　aristocrat。　Only　he　had　to
learn　to　avoid　his　parishioners。

Anna　was　very　much　impressed　by　him。　He　was　a　smallish　man
with　a　rugged；　rather　crumpled　face　and　blue　eyes　set　very　deep
and　glowing。　His　wife　was　a　tall　thin　woman；　of　noble　Polish
family；　mad　with　pride。　He　still　spoke　broken　English；　for　he
had　kept　very　close　to　his　wife；　both　of　them　forlorn　in　this
strange；　inhospitable　country；　and　they　always　spoke　in　Polish
together。　He　was　disappointed　with　Mrs。　Brangwen's　soft；　natural
English；　very　disappointed　that　her　child　spoke　no　Polish。

Anna　loved　to　watch　him。　She　liked　the　big；　new；　rambling
vicarage；　desolate　and　stark　on　its　hill。　It　was　so　exposed；　so
bleak　and　bold　after　the　Marsh。　The　Baron　talked　endlessly　in
Polish　to　Mrs。　Brangwen；　he　made　furious　gestures　with　his
hands；　his　blue　eyes　were　full　of　fire。　And　to　Anna；　there　was　a
significance　about　his　sharp；　flinging　movements。　Something　in
her　responded　to　his　extravagance　and　his　exuberant　manner。　She
thought　him　a　very　wonderful　person。　She　was　shy　of　him；　she
liked　him　to　talk　to　her。　She　felt　a　sense　of　freedom　near
him。

She　never　could　tell　how　she　knew　it；　but　she　did　know　that
he　was　a　knight　of　Malta。　She　could　never　remember　whether　she
had　seen　his　star；　or　cross；　of　his　order　or　not；　but　it　flashed
in　her　mind；　like　a　symbol。　He　at　any　rate　represented　to　the
child　the　real　world；　where　kings　and　lords　and　princes　moved
and　fulfilled　their　shining　lives；　whilst　queens　and　ladies　and
princesses　upheld　the　noble　order。

She　had　recognized　the　Baron　Skrebensky　as　a　real　person；　he
had　had　some　regard　for　her。　But　when　she　did　not　see　him　any
more；　he　faded　and　became　a　memory。　But　as　a　memory　he　was
always　alive　to　her。

Anna　became　a　tall；　awkward　girl。　Her　eyes　were　still　very
dark　and　quick；　but　they　had　grown　careless；　they　had　lost　their
watchful；　hostile　look。　Her　fierce；　spun　hair　turned　brown；　it
grew　heavier　and　was　tied　back。　She　was　sent　to　a　young　ladies'
school　in　Nottingham。

And　at　this　period　she　was　absorbed　in　being　a　young　lady。
She　was　intelligent　enough；　but　not　interested　in　learning。　At
first；　she　thought　all　the　girls　at　school　very　ladylike　and
wonderful；　and　she　wanted　to　be　like　them。　She　came　to　a　speedy
disillusion：　they　galled　and　maddened　her；　they　were　petty　and
mean。　After　the　loose；　generous　atmosphere　of　her　home；　where
little　things　did　not　count；　she　was　always　uneasy　in　the　world；
that　would　snap　and　bite　at　every　trifle。

A　quick　change　came　over　her。　She　mistrusted　herself；　she
mistrusted　the　outer　world。　She　did　not　want　to　go　on；　she　did
not　want　to　go　out　into　it；　she　wanted　to　go　no　further。

〃What　do　I　care　about　that　lot　of　girls？〃　she　would
say　to　her　father；　contemptuously；　〃they　are　nobody。〃

The　trouble　was　that　the　girls　would　not　accept　Anna　at　her
measure。　They　would　have　her　according　to　themselves　or　not　at
all。　So　she　was　confused；　seduced；　she　became　as　they　were　for　a
time；　and　then；　in　revulsion；　she　hated　them　furiously。

〃Why　don't　you　ask　some　of　your　girls　here？〃　her　father　would
say。

〃They're　not　ing　here；〃　she　cried。

〃And　why　not？〃

〃They're　bagatelle；〃　she　said；　using　one　of　her　mother's　rare
phrases。

〃Bagatelles　or　billiards；　it　makes　no　matter；　they're　nice
young　lasses　enough。〃

But　Anna　was　not　to　be　won　over。　She　had　a　curious　shrinking
from　monplace　people；　and　particularly　from　the　young　lady　of
her　day。　She　would　not　go　into　pany　because　of　the
ill…at…ease　feeling　other　people　brought　upon　her。　And　she　never
could　decide　whether　it　were　her　fault　or　theirs。　She　half
respected　these　other　people；　and　continuous　disillusion
maddened　her。　She　wanted　to　respect　them。　Still　she　thought　the
people　she　did　not　know　were　wonderful。　Those　she　knew　seemed
always　to　be　limiting　her；　tying　her　up　in　little　falsities　that
irritated　her　beyond　bearing。　She　would　rather　stay　at　home　and
avoid　the　rest　of　the　world；　leaving　it　illusory。

For　at　the　Marsh　life　had　indeed　a　certain　freedom　and
largeness。　There　was　no　fret　about　money；　no　mean　little
precedence；　nor　care　for　what　other　people　thought；　because
neither　Mrs。　Brangwen　nor　Brangwen　could　be　sensible　of　any
judgment　passed　on　them　from　outside。　Their　lives　were　too
separate。

So　Anna　was　only　easy　at　home；　where　the　mon　sense　and　the
supreme　relation　between　her　parents　produced　a　freer　standard
of　being　than　she　could　find　outside。　Where；　outside　the　Marsh；
could　she　find　the　tolerant　dignity　she　had　been　brought　up　in？
Her　parents　stood　undiminished　and　unaware　of　criticism。　The
people　she　met　outside　seemed　to　begrudge　her　her　very
existence。　They　seemed　to　want　to　belittle　her　also。　She　was
exceedingly　reluctant　to　go　amongst　them。　She　depended　upon　her
mother　and　her　father。　And　yet　she　wanted　to　go　out。

At　school；　or　in　the　world；　she　was　usually　at　fault；　she
felt　usually　that　she　ought　to　be　slinking　in　disgrace。　She
never　felt　quite　sure；　in　herself；　whether　she　were　wrong；　or
whether　the　others　were　wrong。　She　had　not　done　her　lessons：
well；　she　did　not　see　any　reason　why　she　should　do　her
lessons；　if　she　did　not　want　to。　Was　there　some　occult　reason
why　she　should？　Were　these　people；　schoolmistresses；
representatives　of　some　mystic　Right；　some　Higher　Good？　They
seemed　to　think　so　themselves。　But　she　could　not　for　her　life
see　why　a　woman　should　bully　and　insult　her　because　she　did　not
know　thirty　lines　of　As　You　Like　It。　After　all；　what　did
it　matter　if　she　knew　them　or　not？　Nothing　could　persuade　her
that　it　was　of　the　slightest　importance。　Because　she　despised
inwardly　the　coarsely　working　nature　of　the　mistress。　Therefore
she　was　always　at　outs　with　autho