The Rainbow-虹(英文版)-第59章

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oh；　so　blue；　that　e　when　the　snow　is　gone。　Andrey；　the
coachman；　used　to　bring　me　the　very　first。〃

They　talked；　and　then　Tilly　brought　the　tea…tray；　set　for
two。　Ursula　had　a　special　green　and　gold　cup　kept　for　herself　at
the　Marsh。　There　was　thin　bread　and　butter；　and　cress　for　tea。
It　was　all　special　and　wonderful。　She　ate　very　daintily；　with
little　fastidious　bites。

〃Why　do　you　have　two　wedding…rings；　grandmother？……Must
you？〃　asked　the　child；　noticing　her　grandmother's　ivory　coloured
hand　with　blue　veins；　above　the　tray。

〃If　I　had　two　husbands；　child。〃

Ursula　pondered　a　moment。

〃Then　you　must　wear　both　rings　together？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Which　was　my　grandfather's　ring？〃

The　woman　hesitated。

〃This　grandfather　whom　you　knew？　This　was　his　ring；　the　red
one。　The　yellow　one　was　your　other　grandfather's　whom　you　never
knew。〃

Ursula　looked　interestedly　at　the　two　rings　on　the　proffered
finger。

〃Where　did　he　buy　it　you？〃　she　asked。

〃This　one？　In　Warsaw；　I　think。〃

〃You　didn't　know　my　own　grandfather　then？〃

〃Not　this　grandfather。〃

Ursula　pondered　this　fascinating　intelligence。

〃Did　he　have　white　whiskers　as　well？〃

〃No；　his　beard　was　dark。　You　have　his　brows；　I　think。〃

Ursula　ceased　and　became　self…conscious。　She　at　once
identified　herself　with　her　Polish　grandfather。

〃And　did　he　have　brown　eyes？〃

〃Yes；　dark　eyes。　He　was　a　clever　man；　as　quick　as　a　lion。　He
was　never　still。〃

Lydia　still　resented　Lensky。　When　she　thought　of　him；　she　was
always　younger　than　he；　she　was　always　twenty；　or　twenty…five；
and　under　his　domination。　He　incorporated　her　in　his　ideas　as　if
she　were　not　a　person　herself；　as　if　she　were　just　his
aide…de…camp；　or　part　of　his　baggage；　or　one　among　his　surgical
appliances。　She　still　resented　it。　And　he　was　always　only
thirty：　he　had　died　when　he　was　thirty…four。　She　did　not　feel
sorry　for　him。　He　was　older　than　she。　Yet　she　still　ached　in　the
thought　of　those　days。

〃Did　you　like　my　first　grandfather　best？〃　asked　Ursula。

〃I　liked　them　both；〃　said　the　grandmother。

And；　thinking；　she　became　again　Lensky's　girl…bride。　He　was
of　good　family；　of　better　family　even　than　her　own；　for　she　was
half　German。　She　was　a　young　girl　in　a　house　of　insecure
fortune。　And　he；　an　intellectual；　a　clever　surgeon　and
physician；　had　loved　her。　How　she　had　looked　up　to　him！　She
remembered　her　first　transports　when　he　talked　to　her；　the
important　young　man　with　the　severe　black　beard。　He　had　seemed
so　wonderful；　such　an　authority。　After　her　own　lax　household；
his　gravity　and　confident；　hard　authority　seemed　almost　God…like
to　her。　For　she　had　never　known　it　in　her　life；　all　her
surroundings　had　been　loose；　lax；　disordered；　a　welter。

〃Miss　Lydia；　will　you　marry　me？〃　he　had　said　to　her　in
German；　in　his　grave；　yet　tremulous　voice。　She　had　been　afraid
of　his　dark　eyes　upon　her。　They　did　not　see　her；　they　were　fixed
upon　her。　And　he　was　hard；　confident。　She　thrilled　with　the
excitement　of　it；　and　accepted。　During　the　courtship；　his　kisses
were　a　wonder　to　her。　She　always　thought　about　them；　and
wondered　over　them。　She　never　wanted　to　kiss　him　back。　In　her
idea；　the　man　kissed；　and　the　woman　examined　in　her　soul　the
kisses　she　had　received。

She　had　never　quite　recovered　from　her　prostration　of　the
first　days；　or　nights；　of　marriage。　He　had　taken　her　to　Vienna；
and　she　was　utterly　alone　with　him；　utterly　alone　in　another
world；　everything；　everything　foreign；　even　he　foreign　to　her。
Then　came　the　real　marriage；　passion　came　to　her；　and　she　became
his　slave；　he　was　her　lord；　her　lord。　She　was　the　girl…bride；
the　slave；　she　kissed　his　feet；　she　had　thought　it　an　honour　to
touch　his　body；　to　unfasten　his　boots。　For　two　years；　she　had
gone　on　as　his　slave；　crouching　at　his　feet；　embracing　his
knees。

Children　had　e；　he　had　followed　his　ideas。　She　was　there
for　him；　just　to　keep　him　in　condition。　She　was　to　him　one　of
the　baser　or　material　conditions　necessary　for　his　welfare　in
prosecuting　his　ideas；　of　nationalism；　of　liberty；　of
science。

But　gradually；　at　twenty…three；　twenty…four；　she　began　to
realize　that　she　too　might　consider　these　ideas。　By　his
acceptance　of　her　self…subordination；　he　exhausted　the　feeling
in　her。　There　were　those　of　his　associates　who　would　discuss　the
ideas　with　her；　though　he　did　not　wish　to　do　so　himself。　She
adventured　into　the　minds　of　other　men。　His；　then；　was　not　the
only　male　mind！　She　did　not　exist；　then；　just　as　his　attribute！
She　began　to　perceive　the　attention　of　other　men。　An　excitement
came　over　her。　She　remembered　now　the　men　who　had　paid　her
court；　when　she　was　married；　in　Warsaw。

Then　the　rebellion　broke　out；　and　she　was　inspired　too。　She
would　go　as　a　nurse　at　her　husband's　side。　He　worked　like　a
lion；　he　wore　his　life　out。　And　she　followed　him　helplessly。　But
she　disbelieved　in　him。　He　was　so　separate；　he　ignored　so　much。
He　counted　too　much　on　himself。　His　work；　his　ideas；……did
nothing　else　matter？

Then　the　children　were　dead；　and　for　her；　everything　became
remote。　He　became　remote。　She　saw　him；　she　saw　him　go　white　when
he　heard　the　news；　then　frown；　as　if　he　thought；　〃Why
have　they　died　now；　when　I　have　no　time　to　grieve？〃

〃He　has　no　time　to　grieve；〃　she　had　said；　in　her　remote；
awful　soul。　〃He　has　no　time。　It　is　so　important；　what　he　does！
He　is　then　so　self…important；　this　half…frenzied　man！　Nothing
matters；　but　this　work　of　rebellion！　He　has　not　time　to　grieve；
nor　to　think　of　his　children！　He　had　not　time　even　to　beget
them；　really。〃

She　had　let　him　go　on　alone。　But；　in　the　chaos；　she　had
worked　by　his　side　again。　And　out　of　the　chaos；　she　had　fled
with　him　to　London。

He　was　a　broken；　cold　man。　He　had　no　affection　for　her；　nor
for　anyone。　He　had　failed　in　his　work；　so　everything　had　failed。
He　stiffened；　and　died。

She　could　not　subscribe。　He　had　failed；　everything　had
failed；　yet　behind　the　failure　was　the　unyielding　passion　of
life。　The　individual　effort　might　fail；　but　not　the　human　joy。
She　belonged　to　the　human　joy。

He　died　and　went　his　way；　but　not　before　there　was　another
child。　And　this　little　Ursula　was　his　grandchild。　She　was　glad
of　it。　For　she　still　honoured　him；　though　he　had　been
mistaken。

She；　Lydia　Brangwen；　was　sorry　for　him　now。　He　was
dead……he　had　scarcely　lived。　He　had　never　known　her。　He　had
lain　with　her；　but　he　had　never　known　her。　He　had　never　received
what　she　could　give　him。　He　had　gone　away　from　her　empty。　So；　he
had　never　lived。　So；　he　had　died　and　passed　away。　Yet　there　had
been　strength　and　power　in　him。

She　could　scarcely　forgive　him　that　he　had　never　lived。　If　it
were　not　for　Anna；　and　for　this　little　Ursula；　who　had　his
brows；　there　would　be　no　more　left　of　him　than　of　a　broken
vessel　thrown　away；　and　just　remembered。

Tom　Brangwen　had　served　her。　He　had　e　to　her；　and　taken
from　her。　He　had　died　and　gone　his　way　into　death。　But　he　had
made　himself　immortal　in　his　knowledge　with　her。　So　she　had　her
place　here；　in　life；　and　in　immortality。　For　he　had　taken　his
knowledge　of　her　into　death；　so　that　she　had　her　place　in　death。
〃In　my　father's　house　are　many　mansions。〃

She　loved　both　her　husbands。　To　one　she　had　been　a　naked
little　girl…bride；　running　to　serve　him。　The　other　she　loved　out
of　fulfilment；　because　he　was　good　and　had　given　her　being；
because　he　had　served　her　honourably；　and　bee　her　man；　one
with　her。

She　was　established　in　this　stretch　of　life；　she　had　e　to
herself。　During　her　first　marriage；　she　had　not　existed；　except
through　him；　he　was　the　substance　and　she　the　shadow　running　at
his　feet。　She　was　very　glad　she　had　e　to　her　own　self。　She
was　grateful　to　Brangwen。　She　reached　out　to　him　in　gratitude；
into　death。

In　her　heart　she　felt　a　vague　tenderness　and　pity　for　her
first　husband；　who　had　been　her　lord。　He　was　so　wrong　when　he
died。　She　could　not　bear　it；　that　he　had　never　lived；　never
really　bee　himself。　And　he　had　been　her　lord！　Strange；　it　all
had　been！　Why　had　he　been　her　lord？　He　seemed　now　so　far　off；　so
without　bearing　on　her。

〃Which　did　you；　grandmother？〃

〃What？〃

〃Like　best。〃

〃I　liked　them　both。　I　married　the　first　when　I　was　quite　a
girl。　Then　I　loved　your　grandfather　when　I　was　a　woman。　There　is
a　difference。〃

They　were　silent　for　a　time。

〃Did　you　cry　when　my　first　grandfather　died？〃　the　child
asked。

Lydia　Brangwen　rocked　herself　on　the　bed；　thinking　aloud。

〃When　we　came　to　England；　he　hardly　ever　spoke；　he　was　too
much　concerned　to　take　any　notice　of　anybody。　He　grew　thinner
and　thinner；　till　his　cheeks　were　hollow　and　his　mouth　stuck
out。　He　wasn't　handsome　any　more。　I　knew　he　couldn't　bear　being
beaten；　I　thought　everything　was　lost　in　the　world。　Only　I　had
your　mother　a　baby；　it　was　no　use　my　dying。

〃He　looked　at　me　with　his　black　eyes；　almost　as　if　he　hated
me；　when　he　was　ill；　and　said；　'It　only　wanted　this。　It　only
wanted　that　I　should　leave　you　and　a　young　child　to　starve　in
this　London。'　I　told　him　we　should　not　starve。　But　I　was　young；
and　foolish；　and　frightened；　which　he　knew。

〃He　was　bitter；　and　he　never　gave　way。　He　lay　beating　his
brains；　to　see　what　he　could　do。　'I　don't　know　what　you　w