The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第68部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

within　herself；　she　slipped　out　one　evening　to　the　workshed。　She
heard　the　tap…tap…tap　of　the　hammer　upon　the　metal。　Her　father
lifted　his　head　as　the　door　opened。　His　face　was　ruddy　and
bright　with　instinct；　as　when　he　was　a　youth；　his　black
moustache　was　cut　close　over　his　wide　mouth；　his　black　hair　was
fine　and　close　as　ever。　But　there　was　about　him　an　abstraction；
a　sort　of　instrumental　detachment　from　human　things。　He　was　a
worker。　He　watched　his　daughter's　hard；　expressionless　face。　A
hot　anger　came　over　his　breast　and　belly。

〃What　now？〃　he　said。

〃Can't　I；〃　she　answered；　looking　aside；　not　looking　at　him；
〃can't　I　go　out　to　work？〃

〃Go　out　to　work；　what　for？〃

His　voice　was　so　strong；　and　ready；　and　vibrant。　It　irritated
her。

〃I　want　some　other　life　than　this。〃

A　flash　of　strong　rage　arrested　all　his　blood　for　a
moment。

〃Some　other　life？〃　he　repeated。　〃Why；　what　other　life　do　you
want？〃

She　hesitated。

〃Something　else　besides　housework　and　hanging　about。　And　I
want　to　earn　something。〃

Her　curious；　brutal　hardness　of　speech；　and　the　fierce
invincibility　of　her　youth；　which　ignored　him；　made　him　also
harden　with　anger。

〃And　how　do　you　think　you're　going　to　earn　anything？〃
he　asked。

〃I　can　bee　a　teacher……I'm　qualified　by　my
matric。〃

He　wished　her　matric。　in　hell。

〃And　how　much　are　you　qualified　to　earn　by　your　matric。？〃　he
asked；　jeering。

〃Fifty　pounds　a　year；〃　she　said。

He　was　silent；　his　power　taken　out　of　his　hand。

He　had　always　hugged　a　secret　pride　in　the　fact　that　his
daughters　need　not　go　out　to　work。　With　his　wife's　money　and　his
own　they　had　four　hundred　a　year。　They　could　draw　on　the　capital
if　need　be　later　on。　He　was　not　afraid　for　his　old　age。　His
daughters　might　be　ladies。

Fifty　pounds　a　year　was　a　pound　a　week……which　was　enough
for　her　to　live　on　independently。

〃And　what　sort　of　a　teacher　do　you　think　you'd　make？　You
haven't　the　patience　of　a　Jack…gnat　with　your　own　brothers　and
sisters；　let　alone　with　a　class　of　children。　And　I　thought　you
didn't　like　dirty；　board…school　brats。〃

〃They're　not　all　dirty。〃

〃You'd　find　they're　not　all　clean。〃

There　was　silence　in　the　workshop。　The　lamplight　fell　on　the
burned　silver　bowl　that　lay　between　him；　on　mallet　and　furnace
and　chisel。　Brangwen　stood　with　a　queer；　catlike　light　on　his
face；　almost　like　a　smile。　But　it　was　no　smile。

〃Can　I　try？〃　she　said。

〃You　can　do　what　the　deuce　you　like；　and　go　where　you
like。〃

Her　face　was　fixed　and　expressionless　and　indifferent。　It
always　sent　him　to　a　pitch　of　frenzy　to　see　it　like　that。　He
kept　perfectly　still。

Cold；　without　any　betrayal　of　feeling；　she　turned　and　left
the　shed。　He　worked　on；　with　all　his　nerves　jangled。　Then　he　had
to　put　down　his　tools　and　go　into　the　house。

In　a　bitter　tone　of　anger　and　contempt　he　told　his　wife。
Ursula　was　present。　There　was　a　brief　altercation；　closed　by
Mrs。　Brangwen's　saying；　in　a　tone　of　biting　superiority　and
indifference：

〃Let　her　find　out　what　it's　like。　She'll　soon　have　had
enough。〃

The　matter　was　left　there。　But　Ursula　considered　herself　free
to　act。　For　some　days　she　made　no　move。　She　was　reluctant　to
take　the　cruel　step　of　finding　work；　for　she　shrank　with　extreme
sensitiveness　and　shyness　from　new　contact；　new　situations。　Then
at　length　a　sort　of　doggedness　drove　her。　Her　soul　was　full　of
bitterness。

She　went　to　the　Free　Library　in　Ilkeston；　copied　out
addresses　from　the　Schoolmistress；　and　wrote　for
application　forms。　After　two　days　she　rose　early　to　meet　the
postman。　As　she　expected；　there　were　three　long　envelopes。

Her　heart　beat　painfully　as　she　went　up　with　them　to　her
bedroom。　Her　fingers　trembled；　she　could　hardly　force　herself　to
look　at　the　long；　official　forms　she　had　to　fill　in。　The　whole
thing　was　so　cruel；　so　impersonal。　Yet　it　must　be　done。

〃Name　（surname　first）：。。。〃

In　a　trembling　hand　she　wrote；　〃Brangwen；……Ursula。〃

〃Age　and　date　of　birth：。。。〃

After　a　long　time　considering；　she　filled　in　that　line。

〃Qualifications；　with　date　of　Examination：。。。〃

With　a　little　pride　she　wrote：

〃London　Matriculation　Examination。〃

〃Previous　experience　and　where　obtained：。。。〃

Her　heart　sank　as　she　wrote：

〃None。〃

Still　there　was　much　to　answer。　It　took　her　two　hours　to　fill
in　the　three　forms。　Then　she　had　to　copy　her　testimonials　from
her　head…mistress　and　from　the　clergyman。

At　last；　however；　it　was　finished。　She　had　sealed　the　three
long　envelopes。　In　the　afternoon　she　went　down　to　Ilkeston　to
post　them。　She　said　nothing　of　it　all　to　her　parents。　As　she
stamped　her　long　letters　and　put　them　into　the　box　at　the　main
post…office　she　felt　as　if　already　she　was　out　of　the　reach　of
her　father　and　mother；　as　if　she　had　connected　herself　with　the
outer；　greater　world　of　activity；　the　man…made　world。

As　she　returned　home；　she　dreamed　again　in　her　own　fashion
her　old；　gorgeous　dreams。　One　of　her　applications　was　to
Gillingham；　in　Kent；　one　to　Kingston…on…Thames；　and　one　to
Swanwick　in　Derbyshire。

Gillingham　was　such　a　lovely　name；　and　Kent　was　the　Garden　of
England。　So　that；　in　Gillingham；　an　old；　old　village　by　the
hopfields；　where　the　sun　shone　softly；　she　came　out　of　school　in
the　afternoon　into　the　shadow　of　the　plane　trees　by　the　gate；
and　turned　down　the　sleepy　road　towards　the　cottage　where
cornflowers　poked　their　blue　heads　through　the　old　wooden　fence；
and　phlox　stood　built　up　of　blossom　beside　the　path。

A　delicate；　silver…haired　lady　rose　with　delicate；　ivory
hands　uplifted　as　Ursula　entered　the　room；　and：

〃Oh；　my　dear；　what　do　you　think！〃

〃What　is　it；　Mrs。　Wetherall？〃

Frederick　had　e　home。　Nay；　his　manly　step　was　heard　on　the
stair；　she　saw　his　strong　boots；　his　blue　trousers；　his
uniformed　figure；　and　then　his　face；　clean　and　keen　as　an
eagle's；　and　his　eyes　lit　up　with　the　glamour　of　strange　seas；
ah；　strange　seas　that　had　woven　through　his　soul；　as　he
descended　into　the　kitchen。

This　dream；　with　its　amplifications；　lasted　her　a　mile　of
walking。　Then　she　went　to　Kingston…on…Thames。

Kingston…on…Thames　was　an　old　historic　place　just　south　of
London。　There　lived　the　well…born　dignified　souls　who　belonged
to　the　metropolis；　but　who　loved　peace。　There　she　met　a
wonderful　family　of　girls　living　in　a　large　old　Queen　Anne
house；　whose　lawns　sloped　to　the　river；　and　in　an　atmosphere　of
stately　peace　she　found　herself　among　her　soul's　intimates。　They
loved　her　as　sisters；　they　shared　with　her　all　noble
thoughts。

She　was　happy　again。　In　her　musings　she　spread　her　poor；
clipped　wings；　and　flew　into　the　pure　empyrean。

Day　followed　day。　She　did　not　speak　to　her　parents。　Then　came
the　return　of　her　testimonials　from　Gillingham。　She　was　not
wanted；　neither　at　Swanwick。　The　bitterness　of　rejection
followed　the　sweets　of　hope。　Her　bright　feathers　were　in　the
dust　again。

Then；　suddenly；　after　a　fortnight；　came　an　intimation　from
Kingston…on…Thames。　She　was　to　appear　at　the　Education　Office　of
that　town　on　the　following　Thursday；　for　an　interview　with　the
mittee。　Her　heart　stood　still。　She　knew　she　would　make　the
mittee　accept　her。　Now　she　was　afraid；　now　that　her　removal
was　imminent。　Her　heart　quivered　with　fear　and　reluctance。　But
underneath　her　purpose　was　fixed。

She　passed　shadowily　through　the　day；　unwilling　to　tell　her
news　to　her　mother；　waiting　for　her　father。　Suspense　and　fear
were　strong　upon　her。　She　dreaded　going　to　Kingston。　Her　easy
dreams　disappeared　from　the　grasp　of　reality。

And　yet；　as　the　afternoon　wore　away；　the　sweetness　of　the
dream　returned　again。　Kingston…on…Thames……there　was　such
sound　of　dignity　to　her。　The　shadow　of　history　and　the　glamour
of　stately　progress　enveloped　her。　The　palaces　would　be　old　and
darkened；　the　place　of　kings　obscured。　Yet　it　was　a　place　of
kings　for　her……Richard　and　Henry　and　Wolsey　and　Queen
Elizabeth。　She　divined　great　lawns　with　noble　trees；　and
terraces　whose　steps　the　water　washed　softly；　where　the　swans
sometimes　came　to　earth。　Still　she　must　see　the　stately；
gorgeous　barge　of　the　Queen　float　down；　the　crimson　carpet　put
upon　the　landing　stairs；　the　gentlemen　in　their　purple…velvet
cloaks；　bare…headed；　standing　in　the　sunshine　grouped　on　either
side　waiting。

〃Sweet　Thames；　run　softly　till　I　end　my　song。〃

Evening　came；　her　father　returned　home；　sanguine　and　alert
and　detached　as　ever。　He　was　less　real　than　her　fancies。　She
waited　whilst　he　ate　his　tea。　He　took　big　mouthfuls；　big　bites；
and　ate　unconsciously　with　the　same　abandon　an　animal　gives　to
its　food。

Immediately　after　tea　he　went　over　to　the　church。　It　was
choir…practice；　and　he　wanted　to　try　the　tunes　on　his　organ。

The　latch　of　the　big　door　clicked　loudly　as　she　came　after
him；　but　the　organ　rolled　more　loudly　still。　He　was　unaware。　He
was　practicing　the　anthem。　She　saw　his　small；　jet…black　head　and
alert　face　between　the　candle…flames；　his　slim　body　sagged　on
the　music…stool。　His　face　was　so　luminous　and　fixed；　the
movements　of　his　limbs　seemed　strange；　apart　from　him。　The　sound
of　the　organ　seemed　to　belong　to　the　very　stone　of　the　pillars；
like　sap　running　in　them。

Then　there　was　a　close　of　music　and　silence。

〃Father！〃　she　said。

He　looked　round　as　if　at　an　apparition。　Ursula　stood
shadowily　within　the　candle…light。

〃What　now？〃　he　said；　not　ing　to　earth。

It　was　difficult　to　speak　to　him。

〃I've　got　a　situation；〃　she　said；　forcing　herself　to
speak。

〃You've　got　what？〃　he　answered；　unwilling　to　e　out　of　his
mood　of　organ…playing。　He　closed　the　music　before　him。

〃I've　got　a　situation　to　go　to。〃

Then　he　turned　to　her；　still　abstracted；　unwilling。

〃Oh；　where's　that？〃　he　said。

〃At　Kingston…on…Thames。　I　must　go　on　Thursday　for　an
interview　with　the　mittee。〃

〃You　must　go　on　Thursday？〃

〃Yes。〃

And　she　handed　him　the　letter。　He　read　it　by　the　light　of　the
candles。

〃Ursula　Brangwen；　Yew　Tree　Cottage；　Cossethay；
Derbyshire。

〃Dear　Madam；　You　are　requested　to　call　at　the　above　offices
on　Thursday　next；　the　10th；　at　11。30　a。m。；　for　an　interview　with
the　mittee；　referring　to　your　application　for　the　post　of
assistant　mistress　at　the　Wellingborough　Green　Schools。〃

It　was　very　difficult　for　Brangwen　to　take　in　this　remote　and
official　information；　glowing　as　he　was　within　the　quiet　of　his
church　and　his　anthem　music。

〃Well；　you　needn't　bother　me　with　it　now；　need　you？'　he　said
impatiently；　giving　her　back　the　letter。

〃I've　got　to　go　on　Thursday；〃　she　said。

He　sat　motionless。　Then　he　reached　more　music；　and　there　was
a　rushing　sound　of　air；　then　a　long；　emphatic　trumpet…note　of
the　organ；　as　he　laid　his　hands　on　the　keys。　Ursula　turned　and
went　away。

He　tried　to　give　himself　again　to　the　organ。　But　he　could
not。　He　could　not　get　back。　All　the　time　a　sort　of　string　was
tugging；　tugging　him　elsewhere；　miserably。

So　that　when　he　came　into　the　house　after　choir…practice　his
face　was　dark　and　his　heart　black。　He　said　nothing　however；
until　all　the　younger　children　were　in　bed。　Ursula；　however；
knew　what　was　brewing。

At　length　he　asked：

〃Where's　that　letter？〃

She　gave　it　to　him。　He　sat　looking　at　it。　〃You　are　requested
to　call　at　the　above　offices　on