fraternity-第43章

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The　sound　sense　of　those　words　had　made　her　feel　queer　when　they　were　spoken；　they　were　even　more　sensible　than　she　had　thought。　　Did　her　little　daughter；　so　young　and　pretty；　seriously　mean　to　plunge　into　the　rescue　work　of　dismal　slums；　to　cut　herself　adrift　from　sweet　sounds　and　scents　and　colours；　from　music　and　art；　from　dancing；　flowers；　and　all　that　made　life　beautiful？　　The　secret　forces　of　fastidiousness；　an　inborn　dread　of　the　fanatical；　and　all　her　real　ignorance　of　what　such　a　life　was　like；　rose　in　Cecilia　with　a　force　which　made　her　feel　quite　sick。　　Better　that　she　herself　should　do　this　thing　than　that　her　own　child　should　be　deprived　of　air　and　light　and　all　the　just　environment　of　her　youth　and　beauty。　　'She　must　come　backshe　must　listen　to　me！'　she　thought。　　'We　will　begin　together；　we　will　start　a　nice　little　creche　of　our　own；　orperhaps　Mrs。　Tallents　Smallpeace　could　find　us　some　regular　work　on　one　of　her　committees。'

Then　suddenly　she　conceived　a　thought　which　made　her　blood　run　positively　cold。　　What　if　it　were　a　matter　of　heredity？　　What　if　Thyme　had　inherited　her　grandfather's　single…mindedness？　　Martin　was　giving　proof　of　it。　　Things；　she　knew；　often　skipped　a　generation　and　then　set　in　again。　　Surely；　surely；　it　could　not　have　done　that！　With　longing；　yet　with　dread；　she　waited　for　the　sound　of　Stephen's　latchkey。　　It　came　at　its　appointed　time。

Even　in　her　agitation　Cecilia　did　not　forget　to　spare　him；　all　she　could。　　She　began　by　giving　him　a　kiss；　and　then　said　casually：　〃Thyme　has　got　a　whim　into　her　head。〃

〃What　whim？〃

〃It's　rather　what　you　might　expect；〃　faltered　Cecilia；　〃from　her　going　about　so　much　with　Martin。〃

Stephen's　face　assumed　at　once　an　air　of　dry　derision；　there　was　no　love　lost　between　him　and　his　young　nephew…in…law。

〃The　Sanitist？〃　　he　said；　〃ah！　Well？〃

〃She　has　gone　off　to　do　work…some　place　in　the　Euston　Road。　　I've　had　a　telegram。　　Oh；　and　I　found　this；　Stephen。〃

She　held　out　to　him　half…heartedly　the　two　bits　of　paper；　one　pinkish…brown；　the　other　blue。　　Stephen　saw　that　she　was　trembling。　He　took　them　from　her；　read　them；　and　looked　at　her　again。　　He　had　a　real　affection　for　his　wife；　and　the　tradition　of　consideration　for　other　people's　feelings　was　bred　in　him；　so　that　at　this　moment；　so　vitally　disturbing；　the　first　thing　he　did　was　to　put　his　hand　on　her　shoulder　and　give　it　a　reassuring　squeeze。　　But　there　was　also　in　Stephen　a　certain　primitive　virility；　pickled；　it　is　true；　at　Cambridge；　and　in　the　Law　Courts　dried；　but　still　preserving　something　of　its　possessive　and　assertive　quality；　and　the　second　thing　he　did　was　to　say；　〃No；　I'm　damned！〃

In　that　little　sentence　lay　the　whole　psychology　of　his　attitude　towards　this　situation　and　all　the　difference　between　two　classes　of　the　population。　　Mr。　Purcey　would　undoubtedly　have　said：　〃Well；　I'm　damned！〃　Stephen；　by　saying　〃No；　I'm　damned！〃　betrayed　that　before　he　could　be　damned　he　had　been　obliged　to　wrestle　and　contend　with　something；　and　Cecilia；　who　was　always　wrestling　too；　knew　this　something　to　be　that　queer　new　thing；　a　Social　Conscience；　the　dim　bogey　stalking　pale　about　the　houses　of　those　who；　through　the　accidents　of　leisure　or　of　culture；　had　once　left　the　door　open　to　the　suspicion：　Is　it　possible　that　there　is　a　class　of　people　besides　my　own；　or　am　I　dreaming？　　Happy　the　millions；　poor　or　rich；　not　yet　condemned　to　watch　the　wistful　visiting　or　hear　the　husky　mutter　of　that　ghost；　happy　in　their　homes；　blessed　by　a　less　disquieting　god。　Such　were　Cecilia's　inner　feelings。

Even　now　she　did　not　quite　plumb　the　depths　of　Stephen's；　she　felt　his　struggle　with　the　ghost；　she　felt　and　admired　his　victory。　　What　she　did　not；　could　not；　perhaps；　realise；　was　the　precise　nature　of　the　outrage　inflicted　on　him　by　Thyme's　action。　　With　herbeing　a　womanthe　matter　was　more　practical；　she　did　not　grasp；　had　never　grasped；　the　architectural　nature　of　Stephen's　mindhow　really　hurt　he　was　by　what　did　not　seem　to　him　in　due　and　proper　order。

He　spoke：　〃Why　on　earth；　if　she　felt　like　that；　couldn't　she　have　gone　to　work　in　the　ordinary　way？　　She　could　have　put　herself　in　connection　with　some　proper　charitable　societyI　should　never　have　objected　to　that。　　It's　all　that　young　Sanitary　idiot！〃

〃I　believe；〃　Cecilia　faltered；　〃that　Martin's　is　a　society。　　It's　a　kind　of　medical　Socialism；　or　something　of　that　sort。　　He　has　tremendous　faith　in　it。〃

Stephen's　lip　curled。

〃He　may　have　as　much　faith　as　he　likes；〃　he　said；　with　the　restraint　that　was　one　of　his　best　qualities；　〃so　long　as　he　doesn't　infect　my　daughter　with　it。〃

Cecilia　said　suddenly：　〃Oh！　　what　are　we　to　do；　Stephen？　　Shall　I　go　over　there　to…night？〃

As　one　may　see　a　shadow　pass　down　on　a　cornfield；　so　came　the　cloud　on　Stephen's　face。　　It　was　as　though　he　had　not　realised　till　then　the　full　extent　of　what　this　meant。　　For　a　minute　he　was　silent。　〃Better　wait　for　her　letter；〃　he　said　at　last。　　〃He's　her　cousin；　after　all；　and　Mrs。　Grundy's　deadin　the　Euston　Road；　at　all　events。〃

So；　trying　to　spare　each　other　all　they　could　of　anxiety；　and　careful　to　abstain　from　any　hint　of　trouble　before　the　servants；　they　dined　and　went　to　bed。

At　that　hour　between　the　night　and　morning；　when　man's　vitality　is　lowest；　and　the　tremors　of　his　spirit；　like　birds　of　ill　omen；　fly　round　and　round　him；　beating　their　long　plumes　against　his　cheeks；　Stephen　woke。

It　was　very　still。　　A　bar　of　pearly…grey　dawn　showed　between　the　filmy　curtains；　which　stirred　with　a　regular；　faint　movement；　like　the　puffing　of　a　sleeper's　lips。　　The　tide　of　the　wind；　woven　in　Mr。　Stone's　fancy　of　the　souls　of　men；　was　at　low　ebb。　　Feebly　it　fanned　the　houses　and　hovels　where　the　myriad　forms　of　men　lay　sleeping；　unconscious　of　its　breath；　so　faint　life's　pulse；　that　men　and　shadows　seemed　for　that　brief　moment　mingled　in　the　town's　sleep。　Over　the　million　varied　roofs；　over　the　hundred　million　little　different　shapes　of　men　and　things；　the　wind's　quiet；　visiting　wand　had　stilled　all　into　the　wonder　state　of　nothingness；　when　life　is　passing　into　death；　death　into　new　life；　and　self　is　at　its　feeblest。

And　Stephen's　self；　feeling　the　magnetic　currents　of　that　ebb…tide　drawing　it　down　into　murmurous　slumber；　out　beyond　the　sand…bars　of　individuality　and　class；　threw　up　its　little　hands　and　began　to　cry　for　help。　　The　purple　sea　of　self…forgetfulness；　under　the　dim；　impersonal　sky；　seemed　to　him　so　cold　and　terrible。　　It　had　no　limit　that　he　could　see；　no　rules　but　such　as　hung　too　far　away；　written　in　the　hieroglyphics　of　paling　stars。　　He　could　feel　no　order　in　the　lift　and　lap　of　the　wan　waters　round　his　limbs。　　Where　would　those　waters　carry　him？　　To　what　depth　of　still　green　silence？　　Was　his　own　little　daughter　to　go　down　into　this　sea　that　knew　no　creed　but　that　of　self…forgetfulness；　that　respected　neither　class　nor　personthis　sea　where　a　few　wandering　streaks　seemed　all　the　evidence　of　the　precious　differences　between　mankind？　　God　forbid　it

And；　turning　on　his　elbow；　he　looked　at　her　who　had　given　him　this　daughter。　　In　the　mystery　of　his　wife's　sleeping　facethe　face　of　her　most　near　and　dear　to　himhe　tried　hard　not　to　see　a　likeness　to　Mr。　Stone。　　He　fell　back　somewhat　comforted　with　the　thought：　'That　old　chap　has　his　one　ideahis　Universal　Brotherhood。　　He's　absolutely　absorbed　in　it。　　I　don't　see　it　in　Cis's　face　a　bit。　Quite　the　contrary。'

But　suddenly　a　flash　of　clear；　hard　cynicism　amounting　to　inspiration　utterly　disturbed　him：　The　old　chap；　indeed；　was　so　wrapped　up　in　himself　and　his　precious　book　as　to　be　quite　unconscious　that　anyone　else　was　alive。　　Could　one　be　everybody's　brother　if　one　were　blind　to　their　existence？　　But　this　freak　of　Thyme's　was　an　actual　try　to　be　everybody's　sister。　　For　that；　he　supposed；　one　must　forget　oneself。　　Why；　it　was　really　even　a　worse　case　than　that　of　Mr。　Stone！　　And　to　Stephen　there　was　something　awful　in　this　thought。

The　first　small　bird　of　morning；　close　to　the　open　window；　uttered　a　feeble　chirrup。　　Into　Stephen's　mind　there　leaped　without　reason　recollection　of　the　morning　after　his　first　term　at　school；　when；　awakened　by　the　birds；　he　had　started　up　and　fished　out　from　under　his　pillow　his　catapult　and　the　box　of　shot　he　had　brought　home　and　taken　to　sleep　with　him。　　He　seemed　to　see　again　those　leaden　shot　with　their　bluish　sheen；　and　to　feel　them；　round；　and　soft；　and　heavy；　rolling　about　his　palm。　　He　seemed　to　hear　Hilary's　surprised　voice　saying：　〃Hallo；　Stevie！　you　awake？〃

No　one　had　ever　had　a　better　brother　than　old　Hilary。　　His　only　fault　was　that　he　had　always　been　too　kind。　　It　was　his　kindness　that　had　done　for　him；　and　made　his　married　life　a　failure。　　He　had　never　asserted　himself　enough　with　that　woman；　his　wife。　　Stephen　turned　over　on　his　other　side。　　'All　this　confounded　business；'　he　thought；　'comes　from　over…sympathising。　　That's　what's　the　matter　with　Thyme；　too。'　　Long　he　lay　thus；　while　the　light　grew　stronger；　listening　to　Cecilia's　gentle　breathing；　disturbed　to　his　very　marrow　by　these　thoughts。

The　first　post　brought　no　letter　from　Thyme；　and　the　announcement　soon　after；　that　Mr。　Hilary　had　come　to　breakfast；　was　received　by　both　Stephen　and　Cecilia　with　a　welcome　such　as　the　anxious　give　to　anything　which　shows　promise　of　distracting　them。

Stephen　made　haste　down。　　Hilary；　with　a　very　grave　and　harassed　face；　was　in　the　dining…room。　　It　was　he；　however；　who；　after　one　look　at　Stephen；　said：

〃What's　the　matter；　Stevie？〃

Stephen　took　up　the　Standard。　　In　spite　of　his　self…control；　his　hand　shook　a　little。

〃It's　a　ridiculous　business；〃　he　said。　　〃That　precious　young　Sanitist　has　so　worked　his　confounded　theories　into　Thyme　that　she　has　gone　off　to　the　Euston　Road　to　put　them　into　practice；　of　all　things！〃

At　the　half…concerned　amusement　on　Hilary's　face　his　quick　and　rather　narrow　eyes　glinted。

〃It's　not　exactly　for　you　to　laugh；　Hilary；〃　he　said。　　〃It's　all　of　a　piece　with　your　cursed　sentimentality　about　those　Hughs；　and　that　girl。　　I　knew　it　would　end　in　a　mess。〃

Hilary　answered　this　unjust　and　unexpected　outburst　by　a　look；　and　Stephen；　with　the　strange　feeling　of　inferiority　which　would　come　to　him　in　Hilary's　presence　against　his　better　judgment；　lowered　his　own　glance。

〃My　dear　boy；〃　said　Hilary；　〃if　any　bit　of　my　character　has　crept　into　Thyme；　I'm　truly　sorry。〃

Stephen　took　his　brother's　hand　and　gave　it　a　good　grip；　and；　Cecilia　coming　in；　they　all　sat　down。

Cecilia　at　once　noted　what　Stephen　in　his　preoccupation　had　notthat　Hilary　had　come　to　tell　them　something。　　But　she　did　not　like　to　ask　him　what　it　was；　though　she　knew　that　in　the　presence　of　their　trouble　Hilary　was　too　delicate　to　obtrude　his　own。　　She　did　not　like；　either；　to　talk　of　her　trouble　in　the　presence　of　his。　　They　all　talked；　therefore；　of　indifferent　thingswhat　music　they　had　heard；　what　plays　they　had　seeneating　but　little；　and　drinking　tea。　In　the　middle　of　a　remark　about　the　opera；　Stephen；　looking　up；　saw　Martin　himself　standing　in　the　doorway。　　The　young　Sanitist　looked　pale；　dusty；　and　dishevelled。　　He　advanced　towards　Cecilia；　and　said　with　his　usual　cool　determination：

〃I've　brought　her　back；　Aunt　Cis。〃

At　that　moment；　fraught　with　such　reli