the choir invisible- 第27部分

〃Aunt　Jessica；〃　she　suddenly　inquired　with　mischievous　look　at　John；　〃before　you　were　engaged　to　uncle；　was　there　any　one　else　you　liked　better？〃

With　a　terrible　inward　start；　he　shot　a　covert　glance　at　her　and　dropped　his　eyes。　Mrs。　Falconer's　answer　was　playful　and　serene。

〃It　has　been　a　long　time；　it's　hard　to　remember。　But　I've　heard　of　such　cases。〃

There　was　something　in　the　reply　that　surprised　Amy　and　she　peeped　under　Mrs。　Falconer's　bonnet　to　see　what　was　going　on。　She　had　learned　that　a　great　deal　went　on　under　that　bonnet。　〃Well；　after　you　were　engaged　to　him；　was　there　anybody　else？〃

〃I　don't　think　I　remember。　But　I've　known　of　such　cases。〃

Amy　peeped　again；　and　the　better　to　see　for　herself　hereafter；　coolly　lifted　the　bonnet　off。　〃Well；　after　you　were　married　to　him；〃　she　said；　〃was　there　anybody　else？　I've　known　of　such　cases；〃　she　added；　with　a　dry　imitation　of　the　phrase。

〃You　have　made　me　forget　my　lengths；〃　said　Mrs。　Falconer　with　unruffled　innocence。　〃I'll　have　to　measure　again。〃　Amy　turned　to　John　with　sparkling　eyes。　〃Did　you　ever　know　a　man　who　was　in　love　with　a　married　woman？〃

〃Yes；〃　said　John；　secretly　writhing；　but　too　truthful　to　say　〃no。〃

〃What　did　he　do　about　it？〃　asked　Amy。

〃I　don't　know；〃　replied　John；　shortly。　〃What　do　you　think　he　ought　to　have　done？　What　would　you　do？〃　asked　Amy。　〃I　don't　know；〃　replied　John；　more　coolly；　turning　away　his　confused　face。

Neither　of　you　seems　to　know　anything　this　afternoon；〃　observed　Amy；　〃and　I'd　always　been　led　to　suppose　that　each　of　you　knew　everything。〃

As　she　departed　with　her　sewing；　she　turned　to　send　a　final　arrow；　with　some　genuine　feeling。　〃I　think　I'll　send　for　uncle　to　come　and　talk　tome。〃

〃Stay　and　talk　to　us；〃　Mrs。　Falconer　called　to　her　with　a　sincere；　pitying　laugh。　〃Come　back！〃

Amy's　questions　had　passed　high　over　her　head　like　a　little　flock　of　chattering　birds　they　had　struck　him　low；　like　bullets。

〃Go　on；〃　she　said　quietly；　when　they　were　seated　again；　〃what　was　it　about　the　harvest？〃

He　could　not　reply　at　once；　and　she　let　him　sit　in　silence；　looking　across　the　garden　while　she　took　up　her　knitting　from　the　end　of　the　bench；　and　leaning　lightly　toward　him；　measured　a　few　rows　of　stitches　across　his　wrist。　It　gave　way　under　her　touch。

〃These　are　your　mittens　for　next　winter；〃　she　said　softly；　more　softly　than　he　had　ever　heard　her　speak。　And　the　quieting　melody　of　her　mere　tone！how　unlike　that　other　voice　which　bored　joyously　into　you　as　a　bright　gimlet　twists　its　unfeeling　head　into　wood。　He　turned　on　her　one　quick；　beautiful　look　of　gratitude。

〃What　was　it　about　the　harvest？〃　she　repeated；　forbearing　to　return　his　look；　and　thinking　that　all　his　embarrassment　followed　from　the　pain　of　having　thus　met　Amy。

He　began　to　speak　very　slowly：　〃The　last　time　I　was　here　I　boasted　that　I　had　yet　to　meet　my　first　great　defeat　in　life　。　。　。　that　there　was　nothing　stronger　in　the　world　than　a　man's　will　and　purpose　。　。　。　that　if　ideals　got　shattered；　we　shattered　them　。　。　。　that　I　would　go　on　doing　with　my　life　as　I　had　planned；　be　what　I　wished；　have　what　I　wanted。〃

〃Well？〃　she　urged；　busy　with　her　needles。

〃I　know　better　now。〃

〃Aren't　you　the　better　for　knowing　better？〃　He　made　no　reply；　so　that　she　began　to　say　very　simply　and　as　a　matter　of　course：　〃It's　the　defeat　more　than　anything　else　that　hurts　you！　Defeat　is　always　the　hardest　thing　for　you　to　stand；　even　in　trifles。　But　don't　you　know　that　we　have　to　be　defeated　in　order　to　succeed？　　Most　of　us　spend　half　our　lives　in　fighting　for　things　that　would　only　destroy　us　if　we　got　them。　A　man　who　has　never　been　defeated　is　usually　a　man　who　has　been　ruined。　And；　of　course；〃　she　added　with　light　raillery；　〃of　course　there　are　things　stronger　than　the　strongest　will　and　purpose：　the　sum　of　other　men's　wills　and　purposes；　for　instance。　A　single　soldier　may　have　all　the　will　and　purpose　to　whip　an　army；　but　he　doesn't　do　it。　And　a　man　may　have　all　the　will　and　purpose　to　whip　the　world；　walk　over　it　rough…shod；　shoulder　it　out　of　his　way　as　you'd　like　to　do；　but　he　doesn't　do　it。　And　of　course　we　do　not　shatter　our　ideals　ourselvesalways：　a　thousand　things　outside　ourselves　do　that　for　us。　And　what　reason　had　you　to　say　that　you　would　have　what　you　wanted？　Your　wishes　are　not　infallible。　Suppose　you　craved　the　forbidden？〃

She　looked　over　at　him　archly；　but　he　jerked　his　face　farther　away。　　Then　he　spoke　out　with　the　impulse　to　get　away　from　her　question：

〃I　could　stand　to　be　worsted　by　great　things。　But　the　little　ones；　the　low；　the　coarse；　the　trivial！　Ever　since　I　was　here　lastbeginning　that　very　nightI　have　been　struggling　like　a　beast　with　his　foot　in　a　trap。　　I　don't　mean　Amy！〃　he　cried　apologetically。

〃I'm　glad　you've　discovered　there　are　little　things；〃　she　replied。　〃I　had　feared　you　might　never　find　that　out。　I'm　not　sure　yet　that　you　have。　One　of　your　great　troubles　is　that　everything　in　life　looks　too　large　to　you；　too　serious；　too　important。　You　fight　the　gnats　of　the　world　as　you　fought　your　panther。　With　you　everything　is　a　mortal　combat。　You　run　every　butterfly　down　and　break　it　on　an　iron　wheel；　after　you　have　broken　it；　it　doesn't　matter：　everything　is　as　it　was　before；　except　that　you　have　lost　time　and　strength。　The　only　things　that　need　trouble　us　very　much　are　not　the　things　it　is　right　to　conquer；　but　the　things　it　is　wrong　to　conquer。　If　you　ever　conquer　in　yourself　anything　that　is　right；　that　will　be　a　real　trouble　for　you　as　long　as　you　liveand　for　me！〃

He　turned　quickly　and　sat　facing　her；　the　muscles　of　his　face　moving　convulsively。　She　did　not　look　at　him；　but　went　on：

〃The　last　time　you　were　here；　you　told　me　that　I　did　not　appreciate　Amy；　that　I　could　not　do　her　justice；　but　that　no　woman　could　ever　understand　why　a　man　loved　any　other　woman。〃

〃Did　I　say　that？〃　he　muttered　remorsefully。

〃It　was　because　you　did　not　appreciate　heit　was　because　you　would　never　be　able　to　do　her　justicethat　I　was　so　opposed　to　the　marriage。　　And　this　was　largely　a　question　of　little　things。　I　knew　perfectly　well　that　as　soon　as　you　married　Amy；　you　would　begin　to　expect　her　to　act　as　though　she　were　made　of　iron：　so　many　pieces；　so　many　wheels；　so　many　cogs；　so　many　revolutions。　All　the　inevitable　little　things　that　make　up　the　most　of　her　lifethat　make　up　so　large　a　part　of　every　woman's　lifethe　little　moods；　the　little　play；　little　changes；　little　tempers　and　inconsistencies　and　contradictions　and　falsities　and　hypocrisies　which　come　every　morning　and　go　every　night；all　these　would　soon　have　been　to　youoh！　I'm　afraid　they'd　have　been　as　big　as　a　herd　of　buffalo！　There　would　have　been　a　bull　fight　for　every　foible。〃

She　laughed　out　merrily；　but　she　did　not　look　at　him。

〃Yes；〃　she　continued；　trying　to　drain　his　cup　for　him；　since　he　would　not　do　it　himself；　〃you　are　the　last　man　in　the　world　to　do　a　woman　like　Amy　justice。　I'm　afraid　you　will　never　do　justice　to　any　woman；　unless　you　change　a　good　deal　and　learn　a　good　deal。　Perhaps　no　woman　will　ever　understand　youexcept　me。〃

She　looked　up　at　him　now　with　the　clearest　fondness　in　her　exquisite　eyes。

With　a　groan　he　suddenly　leaned　over　and　buried　his　face　in　his　hands。　　His　hat　fell　over　on　the　grass。　Her　knitting　dropped　to　her　lap；　and　one　of　her　hands　went　out　quickly　toward　his　big　head；　heavy　with　its　shaggy　reddish　mass　of　hair；　which　had　grown　long　during　his　sickness。　But　at　the　first　touch　she　quickly　withdrew　it；　and　stooping　over　picked　up　his　hat　and　put　it　on　her　knees；　and　sat　beside　him　silent　and　motionless。

He　straightened　himself　up　a　moment　later；　and　keeping　his　face　turned　away　reached　for　his　hat　and　drew　it　down　over　his　eyes。

〃I　can't　tell　you！　You　don't　understand！〃　he　said　in　a　broken　voice。

〃I　understand　everything。　Amy　has　told　me…poor　little　Amy！　She　is　not　wholly　to　blame。　I　blame　you　more。　You　may　have　been　in　love　with　your　idea　of　her；　but　anything　like　that　idea　she　never　has　been　and　never　will　be；　and　who　is　responsible　for　your　idea；　then；　but　yourself？　It　is　a　mistake　that　many　a　man　makes；　and　when　the　woman　disappoints　him；　he　blames　her；　and　deserts　her　or　makes　her　life　a　torment。　Of　course　a　woman　may　make　the　same　mistake；　but；　as　a　rule；　women　are　better　judges　of　men　than　men　are　of　women。　Besides；　if　they　find　themselves　mistaken；　they　bear　their　disappointment　better　and　show　it　less：　they　alone　know　their　tragedy；　it　is　the　unperceived　that　kills。〃

The　first　tears　that　he　had　ever　seen　gathered　and　dimmed　her　eyes。　　She　was　too　proud　either　to　acknowledge　them　or　to　hide　them。　Her　lids　fell　quickly　to　curtain　them　in；　and　the　lashes　received　them　in　their　long；　thick　fringes。　But　she　had　suffered　herself　to　go　too　far。

〃Ah；　if　you　had　loved　her！　loved　her！〃　she　cried　with　an　intensity　of　passion；　a　weary；　immeasurable　yearning；　that　seemed　to　come　from　a　life　in　death。　The　strength　of　that　cry　struck　him　as　a　rushing　wind　strikes　a　young　eagle　on　the　breast；　lifting　him　from　his　rock　and　setting　him　afloat　on　the　billows　of　a　rising　storm。　His　spirit　mounted　the　spirit　of　her　unmated　confession；　rode　it　as　its　master；　exulted　in　it　as　his　element　and　his　home。　But　the　stricken　man　remained　motionless　on　the　bench　a　few　feet　from　the　woman；　looking　straight　across　the　garden；　with　his　hands　clinched　about　his　knees；　his　hat　hiding　his　eyes；　his　jaws　set　sternly　with　the　last　grip　of　resolution。

It　was　some　time　before　either　spoke。　Then　her　voice　was　very　quiet。

〃You　found　out　your　mistake　in　time；　suppose　it　had　been　too　late？　But　this　is　all　so　sad；　we　will　never　speak　of　it　again。　Only　you　ought　to　feel　that　from　this　time　you　can　go　on　with　the　plans　of　your　life　uninterrupted。　Begin　with　all　this　as　small　defeat　that　means　a　larger　victory！　There　is　no　entanglement　now；　not　a　drawback；　what　a　future！　　It　does　look　as　though　you　might　now　have　everything　that　you　set　your　heart　on。〃

She　glanced　up　at　him　with　a　mournful　smile；　and　taking　the　knitting　which　had　lain　forgotten　in　her　lap　leaned　over　again　and　measured　the　stitches　upon　his　wrist。

〃When　do　you　start？〃　she　asked；　seeing　a　terrible　trouble　gathering　in　his　face　and　resolved　to　draw　his　thoughts　to　other　things。

〃Next　w