The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第51部分

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noble　life。

It　was　a　grief　to　her　that　her　father　made　such　a　poor
introduction。　He　was　brief　as　ever；　like　a　boy　saying　his
errand；　and　his　clothes　looked　ill…fitting　and　casual。　Whereas
Ursula　would　have　liked　robes　and　a　ceremonial　of　introduction
to　this；　her　new　estate。

She　made　a　new　illusion　of　school。　Miss　Grey；　the
headmistress；　had　a　certain　silvery；　school…mistressy　beauty　of
character。　The　school　itself　had　been　a　gentleman's　house。　Dark；
sombre　lawns　separated　it　from　the　dark；　select　avenue。　But　its
rooms　were　large　and　of　good　appearance；　and　from　the　back；　one
looked　over　lawns　and　shrubbery；　over　the　trees　and　the　grassy
slope　of　the　Arboretum；　to　the　town　which　heaped　the　hollow　with
its　roofs　and　cupolas　and　its　shadows。

So　Ursula　seated　herself　upon　the　hill　of　learning；　looking
down　on　the　smoke　and　confusion　and　the　manufacturing；　engrossed
activity　of　the　town。　She　was　happy。　Up　here；　in　the　Grammar
School；　she　fancied　the　air　was　finer；　beyond　the　factory　smoke。
She　wanted　to　learn　Latin　and　Greek　and　French　and　mathematics。
She　trembled　like　a　postulant　when　she　wrote　the　Greek　alphabet
for　the　first　time。

She　was　upon　another　hill…slope；　whose　summit　she　had　not
scaled。　There　was　always　the　marvellous　eagerness　in　her　heart；
to　climb　and　to　see　beyond。　A　Latin　verb　was　virgin　soil　to　her：
she　sniffed　a　new　odour　in　it；　it　meant　something；　though　she
did　not　know　what　it　meant。　But　she　gathered　it　up：　it　was
significant。　When　she　knew　that：

　　　　x2…y2　=　（x　＋　y）（x…y）

then　she　felt　that　she　had　grasped　something；　that　she　was
liberated　into　an　intoxicating　air；　rare　and　unconditioned。　And
she　was　very　glad　as　she　wrote　her　French　exercise：

〃J'AI　DONNE　LE　PAIN　A　MON　PETIT　FRERE。〃

In　all　these　things　there　was　the　sound　of　a　bugle　to　her
heart；　exhilarating；　summoning　her　to　perfect　places。　She　never
forgot　her　brown　〃Longman's　First　French　Grammar〃；　nor　her　〃Via
Latina〃　with　its　red　edges；　nor　her　little　grey　Algebra　book。
There　was　always　a　magic　in　them。

At　learning　she　was　quick；　intelligent；　instinctive；　but　she
was　not　〃thorough〃。　If　a　thing　did　not　e　to　her
instinctively；　she　could　not　learn　it。　And　then；　her　mad　rage　of
loathing　for　all　lessons；　her　bitter　contempt　of　all　teachers
and　schoolmistresses；　her　recoil　to　a　fierce；　animal　arrogance
made　her　detestable。

She　was　a　free；　unabateable　animal；　she　declared　in　her
revolts：　there　was　no　law　for　her；　nor　any　rule。　She　existed　for
herself　alone。　Then　ensued　a　long　struggle　with　everybody；　in
which　she　broke　down　at　last；　when　she　had　run　the　full　length
of　her　resistance；　and　sobbed　her　heart　out；　desolate；　and
afterwards；　in　a　chastened；　washed…out；　bodiless　state；　she
received　the　understanding　that　would　not　e　before；　and　went
her　way　sadder　and　wiser。

Ursula　and　Gudrun　went　to　school　together。　Gudrun　was　a　shy；
quiet；　wild　creature；　a　thin　slip　of　a　thing　hanging　back　from
notice　or　twisting　past　to　disappear　into　her　own　world　again。
She　seemed　to　avoid　all　contact；　instinctively；　and　pursued　her
own　intent　way；　pursuing　half…formed　fancies　that　had　no
relation　to　anyone　else。

She　was　not　clever　at　all。　She　thought　Ursula　clever　enough
for　two。　Ursula　understood；　so　why　should　she；　Gudrun；　bother
herself？　The　younger　girl　lived　her　religious；　responsible　life
in　her　sister；　by　proxy。　For　herself；　she　was　indifferent　and
intent　as　a　wild　animal；　and　as　irresponsible。

When　she　found　herself　at　the　bottom　of　the　class；　she
laughed；　lazily；　and　was　content；　saying　she　was　safe　now。　She
did　not　mind　her　father's　chagrin　nor　her　mother's　tinge　of
mortification。

〃What　do　I　pay　for　you　to　go　to　Nottingham　for？〃　her　father
asked；　exasperated。

〃Well；　Dad；　you　know　you　needn't　pay　for　me；〃　she　replied；
nonchalant。　〃I'm　ready　to　stop　at　home。〃

She　was　happy　at　home；　Ursula　was　not。　Slim　and　unwilling
abroad；　Gudrun　was　easy　in　her　own　house　as　a　wild　thing　in　its
lair。　Whereas　Ursula；　attentive　and　keen　abroad；　at　home　was
reluctant；　uneasy；　unwilling　to　be　herself；　or　unable。

Nevertheless　Sunday　remained　the　maximum　day　of　the　week　for
both。　Ursula　turned　passionately　to　it；　to　the　sense　of　eternal
security　it　gave。　She　suffered　anguish　of　fears　during　the
week…days；　for　she　felt　strong　powers　that　would　not　recognize
her。　There　was　upon　her　always　a　fear　and　a　dislike　of
authority。　She　felt　she　could　always　do　as　she　wanted　if　she
managed　to　avoid　a　battle　with　Authority　and　the　authorised
Powers。　But　if　she　gave　herself　away；　she　would　be　lost；
destroyed。　There　was　always　the　menace　against　her。

This　strange　sense　of　cruelty　and　ugliness　always　imminent；
ready　to　seize　hold　upon　her　this　feeling　of　the　grudging　power
of　the　mob　lying　in　wait　for　her；　who　was　the　exception；　formed
one　of　the　deepest　influences　of　her　life。　Wherever　she　was；　at
school；　among　friends；　in　the　street；　in　the　train；　she
instinctively　abated　herself；　made　herself　smaller；　feigned　to
be　less　than　she　was；　for　fear　that　her　undiscovered　self　should
be　seen；　pounced　upon；　attacked　by　brutish　resentment　of　the
monplace；　the　average　Self。

She　was　fairly　safe　at　school；　now。　She　knew　how　to　take　her
place　there；　and　how　much　of　herself　to　reserve。　But　she　was
free　only　on　Sundays。　When　she　was　but　a　girl　of　fourteen；　she
began　to　feel　a　resentment　growing　against　her　in　her　own　home。
She　knew　she　was　the　disturbing　influence　there。　But　as　yet；　on
Sundays；　she　was　free；　really　free；　free　to　be　herself；　without
fear　or　misgiving。

Even　at　its　stormiest；　Sunday　was　a　blessed　day。　Ursula　woke
to　it　with　a　feeling　of　immense　relief。　She　wondered　why　her
heart　was　so　light。　Then　she　remembered　it　was　Sunday。　A
gladness　seemed　to　burst　out　around　her；　a　feeling　of　great
freedom。　The　whole　world　was　for　twenty…four　hours　revoked；　put
back。　Only　the　Sunday　world　existed。

She　loved　the　very　confusion　of　the　household。　It　was　lucky
if　the　children　slept　till　seven　o'clock。　Usually；　soon　after
six；　a　chirp　was　heard；　a　voice；　an　excited　chirrup　began；
announcing　the　creation　of　a　new　day；　there　was　a　thudding　of
quick　little　feet；　and　the　children　were　up　and　about；
scampering　in　their　shirts；　with　pink　legs　and　glistening；
flossy　hair　all　clean　from　the　Saturday's　night　bathing；　their
souls　excited　by　their　bodies'　cleanliness。

As　the　house　began　to　teem　with　rushing；　half…naked　clean
children；　one　of　the　parents　rose；　either　the　mother；　easy　and
slatternly；　with　her　thick；　dark　hair　loosely　coiled　and
slipping　over　one　ear；　or　the　father；　warm　and　fortable；　with
ruffled　black　hair　and　shirt　unbuttoned　at　the　neck。

Then　the　girls　upstairs　heard　the　continual：

〃Now　then；　Billy；　what　are　you　up　to？〃　in　the　father's
strong；　vibrating　voice：　or　the　mother's　dignified：

〃I　have　said；　Cassie；　I　will　not　have　it。〃

It　was　amazing　how　the　father's　voice　could　ring　out　like　a
gong；　without　his　being　in　the　least　moved；　and　how　the　mother
could　speak　like　a　queen　holding　an　audience；　though　her　blouse
was　sticking　out　all　round　and　her　hair　was　not　fastened　up　and
the　children　were　yelling　a　pandemonium。

Gradually　breakfast　was　produced；　and　the　elder　girls　came
down　into　the　babel；　whilst　half…naked　children　flitted　round
like　the　wrong　ends　of　cherubs；　as　Gudrun　said；　watching　the
bare　little　legs　and　the　chubby　tails　appearing　and
disappearing。

Gradually　the　young　ones　were　captured；　and　nightdresses
finally　removed；　ready　for　the　clean　Sunday　shirt。　But　before
the　Sunday　shirt　was　slipped　over　the　fleecy　head；　away　darted
the　naked　body；　to　wallow　in　the　sheepskin　which　formed　the
parlour　rug；　whilst　the　mother　walked　after；　protesting　sharply；
holding　the　shirt　like　a　noose；　and　the　father's　bronze　voice
rang　out；　and　the　naked　child　wallowing　on　its　back　in　the　deep
sheepskin　announced　gleefully：

〃I'm　bading　in　the　sea；　mother。〃

〃Why　should　I　walk　after　you　with　your　shirt？〃　said　the
mother。　〃Get　up　now。〃

〃I'm　bading　in　the　sea；　mother；〃　repeated　the　wallowing；
naked　figure。

〃We　say　bathing；　not　bading；〃　said　the　mother；　with　her
strange；　indifferent　dignity。　〃I　am　waiting　here　with　your
shirt。〃

At　length　shirts　were　on；　and　stockings　were　paired；　and
little　trousers　buttoned　and　little　petticoats　tied　behind。　The
besetting　cowardice　of　the　family　was　its　shirking　of　the　garter
question。

〃Where　are　your　garters；　Cassie？〃

〃I　don't　know。〃

〃Well；　look　for　them。〃

But　not　one　of　the　elder　Brangwens　would　really　face　the
situation。　After　Cassie　had　grovelled　under　all　the　furniture
and　blacked　up　all　her　Sunday　cleanliness；　to　the　infinite　grief
of　everybody；　the　garter　was　forgotten　in　the　new　washing　of　the
young　face　and　hands。

Later；　Ursula　would　be　indignant　to　see　Miss　Cassie　marching
into　church　from　Sunday　school　with　her　stocking　sluthered　down
to　her　ankle；　and　a　grubby　knee　showing。

〃It's　disgraceful！〃　cried　Ursula　at　dinner。　〃People　will
think　we're　pigs；　and　the　children　are　never　washed。〃

〃Never　mind　what　people　think；〃　said　the　mother　superbly。　〃I
see　that　the　child　is　bathed　properly；　and　if　I　satisfy　myself　I
satisfy　everybody。　She　can't　keep　her　stocking　up　and　no　garter；
and　it　isn't　the　child's　fault　she　was　let　to　go　without
one。〃

The　garter　trouble　continued　in　varying　degrees；　but　till
each　child　wore　long　skirts　or　long　trousers；　it　was　not
removed。

On　this　day　of　decorum；　the　Brangwen　family　went　to　church　by
the　high…road；　making　a　detour　outside　all　the　garden…hedge；
rather　than　climb　the　wall　into　the　churchyard。　There　was　no　law
of　this；　from　the　parents。　The　children　themselves　were　the
wardens　of　the　Sabbath　decency；　very　jealous　and　instant　with
each　other。

It　came　to　be；　gradually；　that　after　church　on　Sundays　the
house　was　really　something　of　a　sanctuary；　with　peace　breathing
like　a　strange　bird　alighted　in　the　rooms。　Indoors；　only　reading
and　tale…telling　and　quiet　pursuits；　such　as　drawing；　were
allowed。　Out　of　doors；　all　playing　was　to　be　carried　on
unobtrusively。　If　there　were　noise；　yelling　or　shouting；　then
some　fierce　spirit　woke　up　in　the　father　and　the　elder　children；
so　that　the　younger　were　subdued；　afraid　of　being
exmunicated。

The　children　themselves　preserved　the　Sabbath。　If　Ursula　in
her　vanity　sang：

　　〃Il　etait　un'　bergere
　　　Et　ron…ron…ron　petit　patapon；〃

Theresa　was　sure　to　cry：

〃That's　not　a　Sunday　song；　our　Ursula。〃

〃You　don't　know；〃　replied　Ursula；　superior。　Nevertheless；　she
wavered。　And　her　song　faded　down　before　she　came　to　the　end。

Because；　though　she　did　not　know　it；　her　Sunday　was　very
precious　to　her。　She　found　herself　in　a　strange；　undefined
place；　where　her　spirit　could　wander　in　dreams；　unassailed。

The　white…robed　spirit　of　Christ　passed　between　olive　trees。
It　was　a　vision；　not　a　reality。　And　she　herself　partook　of　the
visionary　being。　There　was　the　voice　in　the　night　calling；
〃Samuel；　Samuel！〃　And　still　the　voice　called　in　the　night。　But
not　this　night；　nor　last　night；　but　in　the　unfathomed　night　of
Sunday；　of　the　Sabbath　silence。

There　was　Sin；　the　serpent；　in　whom　was　also　wisdom。　There
was　Judas　with　the　money　and　the　kiss。

But　there　was　no　actual　Sin。