the research magnificent-第42章

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on　of　the　nerves。　There's　a　cruelty　in　life　and　　She's　KIND　to　me。　　She's　so　kind　to　me。　。　。　。〃　And　then　again　Prothero　was　weeping　like　a　vexed　child。

15

The　end　of　Prothero's　first　love　affair　came　to　Benham　in　broken　fragments　in　letters。　　When　he　looked　for　Anna　Alexievna　in　Decemberhe　never　learnt　her　surnamehe　found　she　had　left　the　Cosmopolis　Bazaar　soon　after　Prothero's　departure　and　he　could　not　find　whither　she　had　gone。　　He　never　found　her　again。　　Moscow　and　Russia　had　swallowed　her　up。　Of　course　she　and　Prothero　parted；　that　was　a　foregone　conclusion。　But　Prothero's　manner　of　parting　succeeded　in　being　at　every　phase　a　shock　to　Benham's　ideas。　　It　was　clear　he　went　off　almost　callously；　it　would　seem　there　was　very　little　crying。　　Towards　the　end　it　was　evident　that　the　two　had　quarrelled。　　The　tears　only　came　at　the　very　end　of　all。　　It　was　almost　as　if　he　had　got　through　the　passion　and　was　glad　to　go。　　Then　came　regret；　a　regret　that　increased　in　geometrical　proportion　with　every　mile　of　distance。　In　Warsaw　it　was　that　grief　really　came　to　Prothero。　　He　had　some　hours　there　and　he　prowled　the　crowded　streets；　seeing　girls　and　women　happy　with　their　lovers；　abroad　upon　bright　expeditions　and　full　of　delicious　secrets；　girls　and　women　who　ever　and　again　flashed　out　some　instant　resemblance　to　Anna。　。　。　。　In　Berlin　he　stopped　a　night　and　almost　decided　that　he　would　go　back。　　〃But　now　I　had　the　damned　frontier；〃　he　wrote；　〃between　us。〃　It　was　so　entirely　in　the　spirit　of　Prothero；　Benham　thought；　to　let　the　〃damned　frontier〃　tip　the　balance　against　him。　Then　came　a　scrawl　of　passionate　confession；　so　passionate　that　it　seemed　as　if　Prothero　had　been　transfigured。　　〃I　can't　stand　this　business；〃　he　wrote。　　〃It　has　things　in　it；　possibilities　of　emotional　disturbanceyou　can　have　no　idea！　　In　the　trainluckily　I　was　alone　in　the　compartmentI　sat　and　thought；　and　suddenly；　I　could　not　help　it；　I　was　weepingnoisy　weeping；　an　uproar！　　A　beastly　German　came　and　stood　in　the　corridor　to　stare。　　I　had　to　get　out　of　the　train。　　It　is　disgraceful；　it　is　monstrous　we　should　be　made　like　this。　。　。　。　〃Here　I　am　stranded　in　Hanover　with　nothing　to　do　but　to　write　to　you　about　my　dismal　feelings。　。　。　。〃　After　that　surely　there　was　nothing　before　a　broken…hearted　Prothero　but　to　go　on　with　his　trailing　wing　to　Trinity　and　a　life　of　inappeasable　regrets；　but　again　Benham　reckoned　without　the　invincible　earthliness　of　his　friend。　　Prothero　stayed　three　nights　in　Paris。　〃There　is　an　extraordinary　excitement　about　Paris；〃　he　wrote。　　〃A　levity。　　I　suspect　the　gypsum　in　the　subsoilsome　as　yet　undescribed　radiations。　　Suddenly　the　world　looks　brightly　cynical。　。　。　。　　None　of　those　tear…compelling　German　emanations。　。　。　。　〃And；　Benham；　I　have　found　a　friend。　〃A　woman。　　Of　course　you　will　laugh；　you　will　sneer。　　You　do　not　understand　these　things。　。　。　。　　Yet　they　are　so　simple。　　It　was　the　strangest　accident　brought　us　together。　　There　was　something　that　drew　us　together。　　A　sort　of　instinct。　　Near　the　Boulevard　Poissoniere。　。　。　。〃　〃Good　heavens！〃　said　Benham。　　〃A　sort　of　instinct！〃　〃I　told　her　all　about　Anna！〃　〃Good　Lord！〃　cried　Benham。　〃She　understood。　　Perfectly。　　None　of　your　so…called　‘respectable'　women　could　have　understood。　。　。　。　　At　first　I　intended　merely　to　talk　to　her。　。　。　。〃　Benham　crumpled　the　letter　in　his　hand。　〃Little　Anna　Alexievna！〃　he　said；　〃you　were　too　clean　for　him。〃

16

Benham　had　a　vision　of　Prothero　returning　from　all　this　foreign　travel　meekly；　pensively；　a　little　sadly；　and　yet　not　without　a　kind　of　relief；　to　the　grey　mildness　of　Trinity。　　He　saw　him；　capped　and　gowned；　and　restored　to　academic　dignity　again；　nodding　greetings；　resuming　friendships。　The　little　man　merged　again　into　his　rare　company　of　discreet　Benedicts　and　restrained　celibates　at　the　high　tables。　　They　ate　on　in　their　mature　wisdom　long　after　the　undergraduates　had　fled。　Presently　they　would　withdraw　processionally　to　the　combination　room。　。　。　。　There　would　be　much　to　talk　about　over　the　wine。　Benham　speculated　what　account　Prothero　would　give　of　Moscow。　。　。　。　He　laughed　abruptly。　And　with　that　laugh　Prothero　dropped　out　of　Benham's　world　for　a　space　of　years。　　There　may　have　been　other　letters；　but　if　so　they　were　lost　in　the　heaving　troubles　of　a　revolution…strained　post…　office。　　Perhaps　to　this　day　they　linger　sere　and　yellow　in　some　forgotten　pigeon…hole　in　Kishinev　or　Ekaterinoslav。　。　。　。

17

In　November；　after　an　adventure　in　the　trader's　quarter　of　Kieff　which　had　brought　him　within　an　inch　of　death；　and　because　an　emotional　wave　had　swept　across　him　and　across　his　correspondence　with　Amanda；　Benham　went　back　suddenly　to　England　and　her。　　He　wanted　very　greatly　to　see　her　and　also　he　wanted　to　make　certain　arrangements　about　his　property。　　He　returned　by　way　of　Hungary；　and　sent　telegrams　like　shouts　of　excitement　whenever　the　train　stopped　for　a　sufficient　time。　　〃Old　Leopard；　I　am　coming；　I　am　coming；〃　he　telegraphed；　announcing　his　coming　for　the　fourth　time。　　It　was　to　be　the　briefest　of　visits；　very　passionate；　the　mutual　refreshment　of　two　noble　lovers；　and　then　he　was　returning　to　Russia　again。　Amanda　was　at　Chexington；　and　there　he　found　her　installed　in　the　utmost　dignity　of　expectant　maternity。　　Like　many　other　people　he　had　been　a　little　disposed　to　regard　the　bearing　of　children　as　a　common　human　experience；　at　Chexington　he　came　to　think　of　it　as　a　rare　and　sacramental　function。　　Amanda　had　become　very　beautiful　in　quiet；　grey；　dove…like　tones；　her　sun…touched；　boy's　complexion　had　given　way　to　a　soft　glow　of　the　utmost　loveliness；　her　brisk　little　neck　that　had　always　reminded　him　of　the　stalk　of　a　flower　was　now　softened　and　rounded；　her　eyes　were　tender；　and　she　moved　about　the　place　in　the　manner　of　one　who　is　vowed　to　a　great　sacrifice。　　She　dominated　the　scene；　and　Lady　Marayne；　with　a　certain　astonishment　in　her　eyes　and　a　smouldering　disposition　to　irony；　was　the　half…　sympathetic；　half…resentful　priestess　of　her　daughter…in…law's　unparalleled　immolation。　　The　MOTIF　of　motherhood　was　everywhere；　and　at　his　bedside　he　foundit　had　been　put　there　for　him　by　Amandaamong　much　other　exaltation　of　woman's　mission；　that　most　wonderful　of　all　philoprogenitive　stories；　Hudson's　CRYSTAL　AGE。　Everybody　at　Chexington　had　an　air　of　being　grouped　about　the　impending　fact。　　An　epidemic　of　internal　troubles；　it　is　true；　kept　Sir　Godfrey　in　the　depths　of　London　society；　but　to　make　up　for　his　absence　Mrs。　Morris　had　taken　a　little　cottage　down　by　the　river　and　the　Wilder　girls　were　with　her；　both　afire　with　fine　and　subtle　feelings　and　both；　it　seemed；　and　more　particularly　Betty；　prepared　to　be　keenly　critical　of　Benham's　attitude。　He　did　a　little　miss　his　cue　in　these　exaltations；　because　he　had　returned　in　a　rather　different　vein　of　exaltation。　In　missing　it　he　was　assisted　by　Amanda　herself；　who　had　at　moments　an　effect　upon　him　of　a　priestess　confidentially　disrobed。　　It　was　as　if　she　put　aside　for　him　something　official；　something　sincerely　maintained；　necessary；　but　at　times　a　little　irksome。　　It　was　as　if　she　was　glad　to　take　him　into　her　confidence　and　unbend。　　Within　the　pre…natal　Amanda　an　impish　Amanda　still　lingered。　There　were　aspects　of　Amanda　that　it　was　manifest　dear　Betty　must　never　know。　。　。　。　But　the　real　Amanda　of　that　November　visit　even　in　her　most　unpontifical　moods　did　not　quite　come　up　to　the　imagined　Amanda　who　had　drawn　him　home　across　Europe。　　At　times　she　was　extraordinarily　jolly。　　They　had　two　or　three　happy　walks　about　the　Chexington　woods；　that　year　the　golden　weather　of　October　had　flowed　over　into　November；　and　except　for　a　carpet　of　green　and　gold　under　the　horse…　chestnuts　most　of　the　leaves　were　still　on　the　trees。　　Gleams　of　her　old　wanton　humour　shone　on　him。　　And　then　would　come　something　else；　something　like　a　shadow　across　the　world；　something　he　had　quite　forgotten　since　his　idea　of　heroic　love　had　flooded　him；　something　that　reminded　him　of　those　long　explanations　with　Mr。　Rathbone…　Sanders　that　had　never　been　explained；　and　of　the　curate　in　the　doorway　of　the　cottage　and　his　unaccountable　tears。　On　the　afternoon　of　his　arrival　at　Chexington　he　was　a　little　surprised　to　find　Sir　Philip　Easton　coming　through　the　house　into　the　garden；　with　an　accustomed　familiarity。　　Sir　Philip　perceived　him　with　a　start　that　was　instantly　controlled；　and　greeted　him　with　unnatural　ease。　Sir　Philip；　it　seemed；　was　fishing　and　reading　and　playing　cricket　in　the　neighbourhood；　which　struck　Benham　as　a　poor　way　of　spending　the　summer；　the　sort　of　soft　holiday　a　man　learns　to　take　from　scholars　and　literary　men。　　A　man　like　Sir　Philip；　he　thought；　ought　to　have　been　aviating　or　travelling。　Moreover；　when　Sir　Philip　greeted　Amanda　it　seemed　to　Benham　that　there　was　a　flavour　of　established　association　in　their　manner。　　But　then　Sir　Philip　was　also　very　assiduous　with　Lady　Marayne。　　She　called　him　〃Pip；〃　and　afterwards　Amanda　called　across　the　tennis…　court　to　him；　〃Pip！〃　　And　then　he　called　her　〃Amanda。〃　　When　the　Wilder　girls　came　up　to　join　the　tennis　he　was　just　as　brotherly。　。　。　。　The　next　day　he　came　to　lunch。　During　that　meal　Benham　became　more　aware　than　he　had　ever　been　before　of　the　peculiar　deep　expressiveness　of　this　young　man's　eyes。　They　watched　him　and　they　watched　Amanda　with　a　solicitude　that　seemed　at　once　pained　and　tender。　　And　there　was　something　about　Amanda；　a　kind　of　hard　brightness；　an　impartiality　and　an　air　of　something　undefinably　suspended；　that　gave　Benham　an　intuitive　certitude　that　that　afternoon　Sir　Philip　would　be　spoken　to　privately；　and　that　then　he　would　pack　up　and　go　away　in　a　state　of　illumination　from　Chexington。　　But　before　he　could　be　spoken　to　he　contrived　to　speak　to　Benham。　They　were　left　to　smoke　after　lunch；　and　then　it　was　he　took　advantage　of　a　pause　to　commit　his　little　indiscretion。　〃Mrs。　Benham；〃　he　said；　〃looks　amazingly　wellextraordinarily　well；　don't　you　think？〃　〃Yes；〃　said　Benham；　startled。　　〃Yes。　　She　certainly　keeps　very　well。〃　〃She　misses　you　terribly；〃　said　Sir　Philip；　〃it　is　a　time　when　a　woman　misses　her　husband。　　But；　of　course；　she　does　not　want　to　hamper　your　work。　。　。　。〃　Benham　felt　it　was　very　kind　of　him　to　take　so　intimate　an　interest　in　these　matters；　but　on　the　spur　of　the　moment　he　could　find　no　better　expression　for　this　than　a　grunt。　〃You　don't　mind；〃　said　the　young　man　with　a　slight　catch　in　the　breath　that　might　have　been　apprehensive；　〃that　I　sometimes　bring　her　books　and　flowers　and　things？　　Do　what　little　I　can　to　keep　life　interesting　down　here？　　It's　not　very　congenial。　。　。　。　　She's　so　wonderfulI　think　she　is　the　most　wonderful　woman　in　the　world。〃　Benham　perceived　that　so　far　from　being　a　modern　aristocrat　he　was　really　a　primitive　barbarian　in　these　matters。　〃I've　no　doubt；〃　he　said；　〃that　my　wife　has　every　reason　to　be　grateful　for　your　attentions。〃　In　the　little　pause　that　followed　Benham　had　a　feeling　that　Sir　Philip　was　engendering　something　still　more　personal。　　If　so；　he　might　be　constrained　to　invert　very　gently　but　very　firmly　the　bowl　of　chrysanthemums　over　Sir　Philip's　head；　or　kick　him　in　an　improving　manner。　　He　had　a　ridiculous　belief　that　Sir　Philip　would　probably　take　anything　of　the　sort　very　touchingly。　　He　scrambled