The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第20部分

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Alfred　Brangwen；　in　Nottingham；　saying　that　her　son　William　was
ing　to　Ilkeston　to　take　a　place　as　junior　draughtsman；
scarcely　more　than　apprentice；　in　a　lace　factory。　He　was　twenty
years　old；　and　would　the　Marsh　Brangwens　be　friendly　with
him。

Tom　Brangwen　at　once　wrote　offering　the　young　man　a　home　at
the　Marsh。　This　was　not　accepted；　but　the　Nottingham　Brangwens
expressed　gratitude。

There　had　never　been　much　love　lost　between　the　Nottingham
Brangwens　and　the　Marsh。　Indeed；　Mrs。　Alfred；　having　inherited
three　thousand　pounds；　and　having　occasion　to　be　dissatisfied
with　her　husband；　held　aloof　from　all　the　Brangwens　whatsoever。
She　affected；　however；　some　esteem　of　Mrs。　Tom；　as　she　called
the　Polish　woman；　saying　that　at　any　rate　she　was　a　lady。

Anna　Brangwen　was　faintly　excited　at　the　news　of　her　Cousin
Will's　ing　to　Ilkeston。　She　knew　plenty　of　young　men；　but
they　had　never　bee　real　to　her。　She　had　seen　in　this　young
gallant　a　nose　she　liked；　in　that　a　pleasant　moustache；　in　the
other　a　nice　way　of　wearing　clothes；　in　one　a　ridiculous　fringe
of　hair；　in　another　a　ical　way　of　talking。　They　were　objects
of　amusement　and　faint　wonder　to　her；　rather　than　real　beings；
the　young　men。

The　only　man　she　knew　was　her　father；　and；　as　he　was
something　large；　looming；　a　kind　of　Godhead；　he　embraced　all
manhood　for　her；　and　other　men　were　just　incidental。

She　remembered　her　cousin　Will。　He　had　town　clothes　and　was
thin；　with　a　very　curious　head；　black　as　jet；　with　hair　like
sleek；　thin　fur。　It　was　a　curious　head：　it　reminded　her　she　knew
not　of　what：　of　some　animal；　some　mysterious　animal　that　lived
in　the　darkness　under　the　leaves　and　never　came　out；　but　which
lived　vividly；　swift　and　intense。　She　always　thought　of　him　with
that　black；　keen；　blind　head。　And　she　considered　him　odd。

He　appeared　at　the　Marsh　one　Sunday　morning：　a　rather　long；
thin　youth　with　a　bright　face　and　a　curious　self…possession
among　his　shyness；　a　native　unawareness　of　what　other　people
might　be；　since　he　was　himself。

When　Anna　came　downstairs　in　her　Sunday　clothes；　ready　for
church；　he　rose　and　greeted　her　conventionally；　shaking　hands。
His　manners　were　better　than　hers。　She　flushed。　She　noticed　that
he　now　had　a　thick　fledge　on　his　upper　lip；　a　black；
finely…shapen　line　marking　his　wide　mouth。　It　rather　repelled
her。　It　reminded　her　of　the　thin；　fine　fur　of　his　hair。　She　was
aware　of　something　strange　in　him。

His　voice　had　rather　high　upper　notes；　and　very　resonant
middle　notes。　It　was　queer。　She　wondered　why　he　did　it。　But　he
sat　very　naturally　in　the　Marsh　living…room。　He　had　some
uncouthness；　some　natural　self…possession　of　the　Brangwens；　that
made　him　at　home　there。

Anna　was　rather　troubled　by　the　strangely　intimate；
affectionate　way　her　father　had　towards　this　young　man。　He
seemed　gentle　towards　him；　he　put　himself　aside　in　order　to　fill
out　the　young　man。　This　irritated　Anna。

〃Father；〃　she　said　abruptly；　〃give　me　some　collection。〃

〃What　collection？〃　asked　Brangwen。

〃Don't　be　ridiculous；〃　she　cried；　flushing。

〃Nay；〃　he　said；　〃what　collection's　this？〃

〃You　know　it's　the　first　Sunday　of　the　month。〃

Anna　stood　confused。　Why　was　he　doing　this；　why　was　he　making
her　conspicuous　before　this　stranger？

〃I　want　some　collection；〃　she　reasserted。

〃So　tha　says；〃　he　replied　indifferently；　looking　at　her；　then
turning　again　to　this　nephew。

She　went　forward；　and　thrust　her　hand　into　his　breeches
pocket。　He　smoked　steadily；　making　no　resistance；　talking　to　his
nephew。　Her　hand　groped　about　in　his　pocket；　and　then　drew　out
his　leathern　purse。　Her　colour　was　bright　in　her　clear　cheeks；
her　eyes　shone。　Brangwen's　eyes　were　twinkling。　The　nephew　sat
sheepishly。　Anna；　in　her　finery；　sat　down　and　slid　all　the　money
into　her　lap。　There　was　silver　and　gold。　The　youth　could　not
help　watching　her。　She　was　bent　over　the　heap　of　money；
fingering　the　different　coins。

〃I've　a　good　mind　to　take　half　a　sovereign；〃　she　said；　and
she　looked　up　with　glowing　dark　eyes。　She　met　the　light…brown
eyes　of　her　cousin；　close　and　intent　upon　her。　She　was　startled。
She　laughed　quickly；　and　turned　to　her　father。

〃I've　a　good　mind　to　take　half　a　sovereign；　our　Dad；〃　she
said。

〃Yes；　nimble　fingers；〃　said　her　father。　〃You　take　what's　your
own。〃

〃Are　you　ing；　our　Anna？〃　asked　her　brother　from　the
door。

She　suddenly　chilled　to　normal；　forgetting　both　her　father
and　her　cousin。

〃Yes；　I'm　ready；〃　she　said；　taking　sixpence　from　the　heap　of
money　and　sliding　the　rest　back　into　the　purse；　which　she　laid
on　the　table。

〃Give　it　here；〃　said　her　father。

Hastily　she　thrust　the　purse　into　his　pocket　and　was　going
out。

〃You'd　better　go　wi'　'em；　lad；　hadn't　you？〃　said　the　father
to　the　nephew。

Will　Brangwen　rose　uncertainly。　He　had　golden…brown；　quick；
steady　eyes；　like　a　bird's；　like　a　hawk's；　which　cannot　look
afraid。

〃Your　Cousin　Will　'll　e　with　you；〃　said　the　father。

Anna　glanced　at　the　strange　youth　again。　She　felt　him　waiting
there　for　her　to　notice　him。　He　was　hovering　on　the　edge　of　her
consciousness；　ready　to　e　in。　She　did　not　want　to　look　at
him。　She　was　antagonistic　to　him。

She　waited　without　speaking。　Her　cousin　took　his　hat　and
joined　her。　It　was　summer　outside。　Her　brother　Fred　was　plucking
a　sprig　of　flowery　currant　to　put　in　his　coat；　from　the　bush　at
the　angle　of　the　house。　She　took　no　notice。　Her　cousin　followed
just　behind　her。

They　were　on　the　high　road。　She　was　aware　of　a　strangeness　in
her　being。　It　made　her　uncertain。　She　caught　sight　of　the
flowering　currant　in　her　brother's　buttonhole。

〃Oh；　our　Fred；〃　she　cried。　〃Don't　wear　that　stuff　to　go　to
church。〃

Fred　looked　down　protectively　at　the　pink　adornment　on　his
breast。

〃Why；　I　like　it；〃　he　said。

〃Then　you're　the　only　one　who　does；　I'm　sure；〃　she　said。

And　she　turned　to　her　cousin。

〃Do　you　like　the　smell　of　it？〃　she　asked。

He　was　there　beside　her；　tall　and　uncouth　and　yet
self…possessed。　It　excited　her。

〃I　can't　say　whether　I　do　or　not；〃　he　replied。

〃Give　it　here；　Fred；　don't　have　it　smelling　in　church；〃　she
said　to　the　little　boy；　her　page。

Her　fair；　small　brother　handed　her　the　flower　dutifully。　She
sniffed　it　and　gave　it　without　a　word　to　her　cousin；　for　his
judgment。　He　smelled　the　dangling　flower　curiously。

〃It's　a　funny　smell；〃　he　said。

And　suddenly　she　laughed；　and　a　quick　light　came　on　all　their
faces；　there　was　a　blithe　trip　in　the　small　boy's　walk。

The　bells　were　ringing；　they　were　going　up　the　summery　hill
in　their　Sunday　clothes。　Anna　was　very　fine　in　a　silk　frock　of
brown　and　white　stripes；　tight　along　the　arms　and　the　body；
bunched　up　very　elegantly　behind　the　skirt。　There　was　something
of　the　cavalier　about　Will　Brangwen；　and　he　was　well
dressed。

He　walked　along　with　the　sprig　of　currant…blossom　dangling
between　his　fingers；　and　none　of　them　spoke。　The　sun　shone
brightly　on　little　showers　of　buttercup　down　the　bank；　in　the
fields　the　fool's…parsley　was　foamy；　held　very　high　and　proud
above　a　number　of　flowers　that　flitted　in　the　greenish　twilight
of　the　mowing…grass　below。

They　reached　the　church。　Fred　led　the　way　to　the　pew；
followed　by　the　cousin；　then　Anna。　She　felt　very　conspicuous　and
important。　Somehow；　this　young　man　gave　her　away　to　other
people。　He　stood　aside　and　let　her　pass　to　her　place；　then　sat
next　to　her。　It　was　a　curious　sensation；　to　sit　next　to　him。

The　colour　came　streaming　from　the　painted　window　above　her。
It　lit　on　the　dark　wood　of　the　pew；　on　the　stone；　worn　aisle；　on
the　pillar　behind　her　cousin；　and　on　her　cousin's　hands；　as　they
lay　on　his　knees。　She　sat　amid　illumination；　illumination　and
luminous　shadow　all　around　her；　her　soul　very　bright。　She　sat；
without　knowing　it；　conscious　of　the　hands　and　motionless　knees
of　her　cousin。　Something　strange　had　entered　into　her　world；
something　entirely　strange　and　unlike　what　she　knew。

She　was　curiously　elated。　She　sat　in　a　glowing　world　of
unreality；　very　delightful。　A　brooding　light；　like　laughter；　was
in　her　eyes。　She　was　aware　of　a　strange　influence　entering　in　to
her；　which　she　enjoyed。　It　was　a　dark　enrichening　influence　she
had　not　known　before。　She　did　not　think　of　her　cousin。　But　she
was　startled　when　his　hands　moved。

She　wished　he　would　not　say　the　responses　so　plainly。　It
diverted　her　from　her　vague　enjoyment。　Why　would　he　obtrude；　and
draw　notice　to　himself？　It　was　bad　taste。　But　she　went　on　all
right　till　the　hymn　came。　He　stood　up　beside　her　to　sing；　and
that　pleased　her。　Then　suddenly；　at　the　very　first　word；　his
voice　came　strong　and　over…riding；　filling　the　church。　He　was
singing　the　tenor。　Her　soul　opened　in　amazement。　His　voice
filled　the　church！　It　rang　out　like　a　trumpet；　and　rang　out
again。　She　started　to　giggle　over　her　hymn…book。　But　he　went　on；
perfectly　steady。　Up　and　down　rang　his　voice；　going　its　own　way。
She　was　helplessly　shocked　into　laughter。　Between　moments　of
dead　silence　in　herself　she　shook　with　laughter。　On　came　the
laughter；　seized　her　and　shook　her　till　the　tears　were　in　her
eyes。　She　was　amazed；　and　rather　enjoyed　it。　And　still　the　hymn
rolled　on；　and　still　she　laughed。　She　bent　over　her　hymn…book
crimson　with　confusion；　but　still　her　sides　shook　with　laughter。
She　pretended　to　cough；　she　pretended　to　have　a　crumb　in　her
throat。　Fred　was　gazing　up　at　her　with　clear　blue　eyes。　She　was
recovering　herself。　And　then　a　slur　in　the　strong；　blind　voice
at　her　side　brought　it　all　on　again；　in　a　gust　of　mad
laughter。

She　bent　down　to　prayer　in　cold　reproof　of　herself。　And　yet；
as　she　knelt；　little　eddies　of　giggling　went　over　her。　The　very
sight　of　his　knees　on　the　praying　cushion　sent　the　little　shock
of　laughter　over　her。

She　gathered　herself　together　and　sat　with　prim；　pure　face；
white　and　pink　and　cold　as　a　Christmas　rose；　her　hands　in　her
silk　gloves　folded　on　her　lap；　her　dark　eyes　all　vague；
abstracted　in　a　sort　of　dream；　oblivious　of　everything。

The　sermon　rolled　on　vaguely；　in　a　tide　of　pregnant
peace。

Her　cousin　took　out　his　pocket…handkerchief。　He　seemed　to　be
drifted　absorbed　into　the　sermon。　He　put　his　handkerchief　to　his
face。　Then　something　dropped　on　to　his　knee。　There　lay　the　bit
of　flowering　currant！　He　was　looking　down　at　it　in　real
astonishment。　A　wild　snort　of　laughter　came　from　Anna。　Everybody
heard：　it　was　torture。　He　had　shut　the　crumpled　flower　in　his
hand　and　was　looking　up　again　with　the　same　absorbed　attention
to　the　sermon。　Another　snort　of　laughter　from　Anna。　Fred　nudged
her　remindingly。

Her　cousin　sat　motionless。　Somehow　he　was　aware　that　his　face
was　red。　She　could　feel　him。　His　hand；　closed　over　the　flower；
remained　quite　still；　pretending　to　be　normal。　Another　wild
struggle　in　Anna's　breast；　and　the　snort　of　laughter。　She　bent
forward　shaking　with　laughter。　It　was　now　no　joke。　Fred　was
nudge…nudging　at　her。　She　nudged　him　back　fiercely。　Then　another
vicious　spasm　of　laughter　seized　her。　She　tried　to　ward　it　off
in　a　little　cough。　The　cough　ended　in　a　suppressed　whoop。　She
wanted　to　die。　And　the　closed　hand　crept　away　to　the　pocket。
Whilst　she　sat　in　taut　suspense；　the　laughter　rushed　back　at
her；　knowing　he　was