Chapter 94
第九十四章
菲利普在雅各布先生手下当过敷裹员，于是他便请这位助理外科医师给他的跛足开刀。雅各布先生欣然同意，因为他就是对被众人忽视的跛足感兴趣，而且眼下正在为撰写一篇论文搜集资料。事先他忠告菲利普，说他不能使跛足变得像那只好足一模一样，不过他相信他还是能够有所作为的。还说动过手术后，菲利普走起路来还是有点跛，但可以不再穿先前那样难看的靴子了。当想起自己过去曾因笃信上帝能够为他背走沉重的大山而虔诚地向上帝祷告的情景，菲利普的脸上总是浮出一丝凄苦的笑容。
"我并不希望出现奇迹，"菲利普回答说。
"我认为你能让我尽我所能医治你的残疾的决定是明智的。到时候，你会发觉拖着条跛腿行起医来是很不方便的。外行人就好生怪念头，死也不肯同医生打交道。"
菲利普住进了单人病房。每个病区外头楼梯平台处都有这么个只有一个房间的单人病房，它是专门为特殊病人预备的。他在那儿住了一个月，因为雅各布先生在他能够走动之前是不让他走出这个病房的。手术进行得很顺利，他有足够的时间好生养息。劳森和阿特尔涅跑来看望他。有一次，阿特尔涅太太还带了两个孩子来探望他哩。还有他所认识的同学们也不时地前来和他闲聊解闷。米尔德丽德一星期来两次。大家都对他很和气。菲利普这个人一看到别人不厌其烦地关心体贴他，心里总是激动不已，而眼下更是深受感动，感激不尽了。他没什么要烦的，心情轻松愉快。他不必为未来担忧，管它钱够不够花还是期终测验能不能通过，这些都没什么好发愁的。此时，他可以尽心披卷破帙了。近来他一直不能好好看书，因为米尔德丽德老是干扰他：有时候他正要集中脑筋思考些问题，可米尔德丽德却打开了话匣，说些不着边际的话儿，而且菲利普不回答她还决不罢休；每当他要定下心来好好看书，米尔德丽德就要他帮手干件事，不是跑来叫他把个她拔不出来的瓶塞子拔出来，就是拿来个榔头叫他相帮钉个钉子。
他们决定于八月赴布赖顿度假。菲利普想到了那儿之后去住旅馆，可米尔德丽德却说那样的话，她又得做家务了。她提议他们赁住在食宿公寓，这样，她也可以享受几天假期呀。
"在家我得天天张罗饭菜，我都腻透了，想彻底改变一下。"
菲利普最后同意去住食宿公寓。而米尔德丽德凑巧还认识肯普镇上的一家食宿公寓。住在那儿，每人一周的开销也不会超过二十五个先令。她同菲利普商定由她写信去预订房间。但是，在从外边回到肯宁顿寓所时，菲利普却发觉信根本没写，不觉恼怒。
"想不到你还真忙呢，"他没好气地说了一句。
"嗯，我可不能什么事都想到呀。即使我忘记了，那也不是我的过错，对不？"
菲利普急于要到海边去，也不愿意为同那家食宿公寓的女主人联系而滞留伦敦。
"我们可以把行李寄存在车站，直接走去，看看那儿有没有房间。如果有，我们只要到外边去雇位脚夫，让他去取行李好了。"
"你看怎么好就怎么干吧！"米尔德丽德口气生硬地回了一句。
她可不喜欢受人的气，顿时一声不吭，满脸怒容，心神不定地坐在一边，望着菲利普忙着为外出度假准备行装。在八月的阳光照射下，这幢小小的公寓里头异常闷热，户外马路上腾起一阵阵带有恶臭的热浪。当他躺在病房里的病榻上，面对着涂抹着红色颜料的墙壁，他一直向往着呼吸海边的新鲜空气，让海涛拍打自己的胸膛。他觉得，要是再在伦敦呆上一夜，他准会发疯。一看到布赖顿的大街上挤满了前来度假的人群，米尔德丽德的脾气又好了。当乘上马车驶出车站前往肯普镇时，他们俩都变得兴致勃勃。菲利普还用手轻轻地抚摩着孩子的脸颊哩。
"我们在这儿呆上几天，准能让她的小脸蛋变得红扑扑的，"菲利普说话时，双眼还含着微笑。
他们来到那家食宿公寓门前，便把马车辞退了。一位衣着不整的妇人应声出来开门。当菲利普问及是否有空房间时，她却回答她得进去问一下。她把她的女主人领了出来。一位身材敦实、一副生意人脸孔的中年妇人下得楼来，先是按职业习惯对菲利普他们狠狠地盯视了一眼，然后才开口询问他们要开什么样的房间。
"开两个单人房间，如果可能的话，还要在其中一个房间放个摇篮。"
"恐怕我这儿没有两个单人房间。我这儿还有个双人大房间，我可以给你们一个摇篮。"
"我想那样不怎么合适，"菲利普说。
"到了下个星期，我可以再给你们一个房间。眼下布赖顿游客拥挤，将就些吧。"
"就只住几天工夫，菲利普，我想我们可以凑合着对付几天再说，"米尔德丽德接口说。
"我想两个房间要方便些。你可以给我们另外介绍一处食宿公寓吗？"
"可以，不过我想他们也不见得会有比我更多的空房间。"
"请你把地址告诉我们，你不会介意吧？"
那位身材敦实的女主人指给他们的食宿公寓就在下一条街上。于是，他们转身朝它走去。菲利普走起路来还是挺快的，虽说他的身体孱弱，走路还得借助拐杖。米尔德丽德抱着孩子。两人默默地走了一阵子后，他蓦地发觉米尔德丽德哭了。哭声扰得他心烦意乱。他不予理睬，可是她硬是把他的注意力吸引了过去。
"把你的手帕给我用一用好吗？我抱着孩子不能掏手帕，"她抽抽搭搭地说着，转过脑袋，不看菲利普。
菲利普默默无言地把自己的手帕递了过去。米尔德丽德擦干了眼泪，看他不说话，便接着说：
"我这个人身上可能有毒。"
"请你别在大街上吵吵嚷嚷的，"菲利普说。
"你那样坚持要两个单人房间也太可笑了。别人对我们会怎么看呢？"
"要是人们知道真情的话，我想他们一定会认为我们俩都很有道德，"菲利普说。
这当儿，米尔德丽德睨视了菲利普一眼。
"你总不会告诉人家我们不是夫妻吧？"米尔德丽德紧接着问道。
"不会的。"
"那你为何不能像丈夫似的跟我睡在一起呢？"
"亲爱的，对此，我无法解释。我无意羞屏你，但我就是解释不清。我知道这种念头是愚蠢的，也是不合情理的，但这种念头非常执著，比我坚强。我过去非常爱你，以至如今……"他突然中断了他的话。"不管怎么说，这种事情是不可言喻的。"
"哼，你从来就没有爱过我！"米尔德丽德嚷道。
他们俩按着所给的地址，一路摸到了那家食宿公寓。原来，这家食宿公寓是个精力旺盛的老处女开设的。她长着一对狡黠的眼睛，说起话来伶牙俐齿的。他们要么租赁一个双人房间，每人每周出二十五先令，那小孩也要出五先令，要么就住两个单人房间，但每周可得多付租金一英镑之多。
"我不得不收这么高的租金，"那个老处女带着歉意解释道，"因为，如果有必要的话，我甚至可以在单人房间里都摆上两张床。"
"我想那租金也不见得会使我们破产。你说呢，米尔德丽德？"
"嗨，我才不在乎呢，一切安排对我来说都是够好的，"她回答说。
菲利普讨厌她那阴阳怪气的回答，但一笑置之。女房东已经派人去车站取他们的行李了，于是，他们坐下来边休息边等着。此刻，菲利普感到那只开过刀的脚隐隐作痛，便把它搁在一张椅子上，心里舒坦多了。
"我想我和你同坐在一个房间里，你不会介意吧？"米尔德丽德冲撞地说。
"我们就不要赌气斗嘴啦，米尔德丽德，"菲利普轻声规劝道。
"我倒不了解你手头还很有几个钱呢，竟能每周抛出去一镑的房钱。"
"别对我发火。我要让你明白，我们俩只能这样子住在一起。"
"我想你是瞧不起我，肯定是的。"
"当然不是这样的。我为什么瞧不起你呢？"
"一切都是那么别扭，很不自然。"
"是吗？你并不爱我，是不？"
"我？你把我当成什么人了？"
"看来你也不像是个易动情的女人，你不是那样的女人。"
"此话说得太丢脸了，"米尔德丽德阴沉沉地说。
"哦，我要是你的话，才不会为这种事大惊小怪呢。"
这家食宿公寓里大约住着十多个人。他们都来到一个狭窄的、光线昏暗的房间里，围坐在一张狭长的桌子四周用餐。女房东端坐在餐桌的顶头，为大家分发食物。饭菜做得很差劲，可女房东却称之为法国烹调，她说这话的意思是下等的原料加上些蹩脚的佐料：用鲽鱼冒充箬鳎鱼，把新西兰老羊肉充作羔羊肉。厨房既小又不方便，所以端上来的饭菜差一不多都是凉的。房客中有陪伴上了年纪尚未出阁的老姑娘的老夫人；有。假装斯文、滑稽可笑的老光棍；还有脸色苍白的中年职员和他们的夫人，他们在一起津津有味地谈论着他们那些已出嫁的女儿以及在殖民地身居高位的儿子。这些人反应迟钝，却又装腔作势。在餐桌上，他们议论科雷莉小姐的最新出版的小说，其中有些人喜欢莱顿勋爵而不喜欢阿尔马·塔德曼先生，而另外几位恰恰与此相反。不久，米尔德丽德却跟那些太太们谈论起她同菲利普两人的富有浪漫色彩的婚姻来了。她说菲利普发觉自己成了众矢之的，因为他还是个"书生"（说话时，米尔德丽德常常把"学生"说成"书生"）时就同一位姑娘成了亲，所以他一家人--颇有地位的乡下绅士--便取消了他的财产继承权；而米尔德丽德的父亲--在德文郡拥有大片土地--就因为米尔德丽德同菲利普结婚，也撒手不管她的事儿。这就是为什么他们来住一家食宿公寓而又不为孩子雇个保姆的缘故。不过，他们得分开住两个房间，因为他们历来舒适惯了，可不想一家人挤在一个狭小的房间里头。同样，其他几位游客对他们自己之所以住在这种食宿公寓里也有各种各样的理由。其中一位单身绅士通常总是到大都市去度假的，可他喜欢热闹，而在那些大旅馆里总是找不到一个可心的伙伴。那位身边带着一位中年未出阁女儿的老太太正在伦敦修建一幢漂亮的别墅，可她却对女儿说："格文妮，我亲爱的，今年我们一定得换换口味，去度个穷假。"因此，她们俩就来到了这儿，尽管这儿的一切同她们的生活习惯是那么的格格不入。米尔德丽德发觉他们这些人都太矜夸傲慢了，而她就是厌恶粗俗的平庸之辈。她喜欢的绅士就应该是名副其实的绅士。
"一旦人成了绅士和淑女，"米尔德丽德说，"我就喜欢他们是绅士和淑女。"
这种话对菲利普来说有些儿神秘莫测。但是当他听到她三番两次地跟不同的人说这种话时，他发现听者无不欣然赞同，由此他得出结论，只有他是个榆木脑瓜，一点也不开窍。菲利普和米尔德丽德单独成天厮守在一起，这还是破天荒第一次。在伦敦，他白天整天看不到她，晚上回家时，他们也只是聊一阵子家务、孩子以及邻居的事儿，随后他就坐下来做他的功课。眼下，他却成天伴在她左右。早饭后，他们俩便步行去海边，下海洗把澡，然后沿着海滩散一会儿步，上午的时光不费事就过去了。到了黄昏时分，他们把孩子弄上床睡着以后，便上海边码头消磨时光，倒还舒畅。因为在那里，耳畔不时传来轻柔的乐曲声，服前人流络绎不绝（菲利普借想象这些人的各种各样的身分并就这些编造了许许多多小故事以自娱。现在，他养成一种习惯，就是嘴上哼哼哈哈地敷衍着米尔德丽德的话语，而自己的思绪不为所动，继续自由地驰骋着），可就是下午的时间冗长乏味，令人难熬。他们俩坐在海滩上。米尔德丽德说他们要尽情享受布赖顿博士赐予人们的恩泽。由于她老是在一旁剌剌不休地发表她对世间万物的高见，他一点也没法看书。要是他不加理睬，她就会埋怨。
"喔，快把你那些愚蠢的破书收起来吧。你老是看书也看不出名堂来的，只会越看头脑越糊涂，你将来肯定是昏头昏脑的，菲利普。"
"尽说些混帐话！"他顶了一句。
"再说，老是捧着本书，待人也太简慢了。"
菲利普发现也难跟她交谈。她自己在说话的当儿，也不能集中自己的注意力，因此，每每眼前跑过一条狗，或者走过一位身穿色彩鲜艳的运动夹克的男人，都会引起她叽叽呱呱地议论上几句。然而，过不了多久，她会把刚才说的话忘个精光。她的记忆力甚差，就是记不住人的名字，但不记起这些名字又不甘心，因此常常在讲话中戛然停顿下来，绞尽脑汁，搜索枯肠，硬是要把它们记起来，有时候，因实在想不出而只好作罢。可是后来她谈着谈着，又忽然想起来了，这时，即使菲利普在讲另外一些事，她也会打断他的话，插进来说：
"科林斯，正是这个名字。我那会儿就知道我会记起来的。科林斯，我刚才一下记不起来的就是这个名字。"
这倒把菲利普给激怒了。却原来不管他在说些什么，她都不听；而要是她讲话时菲利普一声不响的话，她可要埋怨他死气沉沉的。对那些抽象的慨念，听不了五分钟，她那个脑子就转不起来了。每当菲利普津津有味地把一些具体的事物上升为抽象的理论，她脸上立刻就会显露出厌烦的神色。米尔德丽德常常做梦，而且记得非常牢，每天都要在菲利普跟前罗罗唆唆地复述她的梦境。
一天早晨，他收到了索普·阿特尔涅写来的一封长信。阿特尔汉正以戏剧性的方式度假。这种方式很有见地，同时也显示出他此人的个性。他以这样的方式度假由来已久，已有十年的历史了。他把全家带到肯特郡的一片蛇麻草田野上，那儿离阿特尔涅太太的老家不远，他们要在那儿采集三周的蛇麻子草。这样，他们可以成天呆在旷野里，还可以赚几个外快。使阿特尔涅太太更感满意的是，这样的度假方式同以使他们全家同生她养她的故乡土地之间的关系得到加强。而阿特尔涅在信中也正是特别强调这一点。置身在旷野里给他们带来了新的活力，这像是举行了一次富有魔力的典礼，使得他们返老还童，生气勃勃，精神大振。以前，菲科普就曾经听到阿特尔涅就这个问题滔滔不绝地、绘声绘色地发表过一通离奇古怪的议论。此刻，阿特尔涅在信中邀请菲利普到他们那儿呆上一天，说他渴望把他对莎士比亚以及奏乐杯的想法告诉给菲利普听，还说孩子们嚷着要见见菲利普叔叔。下午，在同米尔德丽德一道坐在海滩上时，他又把信打开来看了一遍。他思念起那九个孩子的慈祥的妈妈、好客的阿特尔涅太太；想起了莎莉，她年纪不大却神情端庄，稍稍带有一种做母亲的仪态和一种富有权威的神气，她前额宽阔，一头秀发编成一根长长的辫子；接着又想起了一大群别的孩子，一个个长得俊俏、健康，成天乐呵呵的，吵吵嚷嚷的。他的心一下子飞到了他们的身边。他们身上具有一种品质--仁慈，这是他以前从来没有在别的人身上看到过的。直到现在，菲利普才意识到他的心显然被他们那种光彩照人的品质深深地吸引住了。从理论上来说，他不相信什么仁慈不仁慈，因为倘若道德不过是件给人方便的事儿的话，那善与恶也就没有意义了。他可不喜欢自己的思路缺乏逻辑性，但是仁慈却明摆着，那么自然而毫无矫饰，而且他认为这种仁慈美不可言。在沉思的当儿，他漫不经心地把阿特尔涅的来信撕成了碎片。他想不出一个甩掉米尔德丽德而自己独身前往的办法来，但他又不愿意带着米尔德丽德一同前去。
这天烈日炎炎，天空中无一丝云彩，他们只得躲避在一个阴凉的角落里。那孩子一本正经地坐在沙滩上玩石子，间或爬到菲利普的身边，递过一块石子让菲利普握着，接着又把它从他手中抠去，小心翼翼地放在沙滩上。她在玩一种只有她知道的神秘的、错综复杂的游戏。此时，米尔德丽德呼呼人睡了，仰面朝天，嘴巴微启着，两腿成八字形叉开，脚上套的靴子祥于古怪地顶着衬裙。以往他的目光只是木然无神地落在她的身上，可此刻他却目不转睛地望着她，目光里闪烁着一种希奇的神情。他以往狂热地爱恋着她的情景历历在目，他心里头不禁暗自纳闷，不知道他为什么现在对她会这么冷淡的。这种感情上的变化使他心里充满了苦痛，看来，他以往所遭受的一切痛苦毫无价值。过去，一触到她的手，心里便激起一阵狂喜；他曾经渴望自己能钻进她的心灵里去，这样可以同她用一个脑子思想，分享她的每一种感情。当他们俩陷入沉默的时候，她所说的每一句话无不表明他们俩的思想简直是南辕北辙，背道而驰。他曾对隔在人与人之间一道不可逾越的障碍作出过反抗。为此，他身受切肤之痛。他曾经发狂似地爱过她，而眼下却对她无一丝一毫爱情可言。他莫名其妙地感到这是一种悲剧。有时候，他很恨米尔德丽德。她啥也学不会，而从生活的经历中她什么教训也没有汲取。她一如既往，还是那么粗野。听到她粗暴地呵斥食宿公寓里的那位累断筋骨的女用人时，菲利普心中十分反感。
不一会儿，菲利普盘算起自己的种种计划来了。学完四年之后，他就可以参加妇产科的考试了，再过上一年，他就可以取得当医生的资格。然后，他就设法到西班牙去旅行一趟，亲眼去欣赏一下只能从照片上看到的那儿的旖旎风光。刹那间，他深深地感到神秘莫测的埃尔·格列柯紧紧地攫住了他的心，暗自思忖，到了托莱多他一定能找到埃尔·格列柯。他无意去任意挥霍，有了那一百英镑，他可以在西班牙住上半年。要是马卡利斯特再能给他带来个好运，他完全可以轻而易举地达到自己的目的。一想到那些风景优美的城池和卡斯蒂尔一带黄褐色的平原，他的心里就热乎乎的。他深信他可以从现世生活中享受到比它给予的更多的乐趣，他想他在西班牙的生活可能更为紧张：也许有可能在一个古老城市里行医，因为那儿有许多路过或者定居的外国人，他可以在那儿找到一条谋生之路。不过那还是以后的事。首先，他要谋得一两个医院里的差使，这样可以积累些经验，以后找工作更为容易些。他希望能在一条不定期的远洋货轮上当名随船医生，在船上有个住舱。这种船装卸货物没有限期，这样可以有足够的时间在轮船停留地游览观光。他想到东方去旅行。他的脑海里闪现出曼谷、上海和日本海港的风光。他遐想着那一丛丛棕榈树、烈日当空的蓝天、肤色黧黑的人们以及一座座宝塔，那东方特有的气味刺激着他的鼻腔。他那心房激荡着对那世界的奇妙的渴望之情。
米尔德丽德醒了。
"我想我肯定睡着了，"她说。"哎哟，你这个死丫头，瞧你尽干了些啥呀？菲利普，她身上的衣服昨天还是干干净净的，可你瞧，现在成了什么样儿了！"
Philip asked Mr. Jacobs, the assistant-surgeon for whom he had dressed, to do the operation. Jacobs accepted with pleasure, since he was interested just then in neglected talipes and was getting together materials for a paper. He warned Philip that he could not make his foot like the other, but he thought he could do a good deal; and though he would always limp he would be able to wear a boot less unsightly than that which he had been accustomed to. Philip remembered how he had prayed to a God who was able to remove mountains for him who had faith, and he smiled bitterly.
‘I don’t expect a miracle,’ he answered.
‘I think you’re wise to let me try what I can do. You’ll find a club-foot rather a handicap in practice. The layman is full of fads, and he doesn’t like his doctor to have anything the matter with him.’
Philip went into a ‘small ward’, which was a room on the landing, outside each ward, reserved for special cases. He remained there a month, for the surgeon would not let him go till he could walk; and, bearing the operation very well, he had a pleasant enough time. Lawson and Athelny came to see him, and one day Mrs. Athelny brought two of her children; students whom he knew looked in now and again to have a chat; Mildred came twice a week. Everyone was very kind to him, and Philip, always surprised when anyone took trouble with him, was touched and grateful. He enjoyed the relief from care; he need not worry there about the future, neither whether his money would last out nor whether he would pass his final examinations; and he could read to his heart’s content. He had not been able to read much of late, since Mildred disturbed him: she would make an aimless remark when he was trying to concentrate his attention, and would not be satisfied unless he answered; whenever he was comfortably settled down with a book she would want something done and would come to him with a cork she could not draw or a hammer to drive in a nail.
They settled to go to Brighton in August. Philip wanted to take lodgings, but Mildred said that she would have to do housekeeping, and it would only be a holiday for her if they went to a boarding-house.
‘I have to see about the food every day at home, I get that sick of it I want a thorough change.’
Philip agreed, and it happened that Mildred knew of a boarding-house at Kemp Town where they would not be charged more than twenty-five shillings a week each. She arranged with Philip to write about rooms, but when he got back to Kennington he found that she had done nothing. He was irritated.
‘I shouldn’t have thought you had so much to do as all that,’ he said.
‘Well, I can’t think of everything. It’s not my fault if I forget, is it?’
Philip was so anxious to get to the sea that he would not wait to communicate with the mistress of the boarding-house.
‘We’ll leave the luggage at the station and go to the house and see if they’ve got rooms, and if they have we can just send an outside porter for our traps.’
‘You can please yourself,’ said Mildred stiffly.
She did not like being reproached, and, retiring huffily into a haughty silence, she sat by listlessly while Philip made the preparations for their departure. The little flat was hot and stuffy under the August sun, and from the road beat up a malodorous sultriness. As he lay in his bed in the small ward with its red, distempered walls he had longed for fresh air and the splashing of the sea against his breast. He felt he would go mad if he had to spend another night in London. Mildred recovered her good temper when she saw the streets of Brighton crowded with people making holiday, and they were both in high spirits as they drove out to Kemp Town. Philip stroked the baby’s cheek.
‘We shall get a very different colour into them when we’ve been down here a few days,’ he said, smiling.
They arrived at the boarding-house and dismissed the cab. An untidy maid opened the door and, when Philip asked if they had rooms, said she would inquire. She fetched her mistress. A middle-aged woman, stout and business-like, came downstairs, gave them the scrutinising glance of her profession, and asked what accommodation they required.
‘Two single rooms, and if you’ve got such a thing we’d rather like a cot in one of them.’
‘I’m afraid I haven’t got that. I’ve got one nice large double room, and I could let you have a cot.’
‘I don’t think that would do,’ said Philip.
‘I could give you another room next week. Brighton’s very full just now, and people have to take what they can get.’
‘If it were only for a few days, Philip, I think we might be able to manage,’ said Mildred.
‘I think two rooms would be more convenient. Can you recommend any other place where they take boarders?’
‘I can, but I don’t suppose they’d have room any more than I have.’
‘Perhaps you wouldn’t mind giving me the address.’
The house the stout woman suggested was in the next street, and they walked towards it. Philip could walk quite well, though he had to lean on a stick, and he was rather weak. Mildred carried the baby. They went for a little in silence, and then he saw she was crying. It annoyed him, and he took no notice, but she forced his attention.
‘Lend me a hanky, will you? I can’t get at mine with baby,’ she said in a voice strangled with sobs, turning her head away from him.
He gave her his handkerchief, but said nothing. She dried her eyes, and as he did not speak, went on.
‘I might be poisonous.’
‘Please don’t make a scene in the street,’ he said.
‘It’ll look so funny insisting on separate rooms like that. What’ll they think of us?’
‘If they knew the circumstances I imagine they’d think us surprisingly moral,’ said Philip.
She gave him a sidelong glance.
‘You’re not going to give it away that we’re not married?’ she asked quickly.
‘No.’
‘Why won’t you live with me as if we were married then?’
‘My dear, I can’t explain. I don’t want to humiliate you, but I simply can’t. I daresay it’s very silly and unreasonable, but it’s stronger than I am. I loved you so much that now...’ he broke off. ‘After all, there’s no accounting for that sort of thing.’
‘A fat lot you must have loved me!’ she exclaimed.
The boarding-house to which they had been directed was kept by a bustling maiden lady, with shrewd eyes and voluble speech. They could have one double room for twenty-five shillings a week each, and five shillings extra for the baby, or they could have two single rooms for a pound a week more.
‘I have to charge that much more,’ the woman explained apologetically, ‘because if I’m pushed to it I can put two beds even in the single rooms.’
‘I daresay that won’t ruin us. What do you think, Mildred?’
‘Oh, I don’t mind. Anything’s good enough for me,’ she answered.
Philip passed off her sulky reply with a laugh, and, the landlady having arranged to send for their luggage, they sat down to rest themselves. Philip’s foot was hurting him a little, and he was glad to put it up on a chair.
‘I suppose you don’t mind my sitting in the same room with you,’ said Mildred aggressively.
‘Don’t let’s quarrel, Mildred,’ he said gently.
‘I didn’t know you was so well off you could afford to throw away a pound a week.’
‘Don’t be angry with me. I assure you it’s the only way we can live together at all.’
‘I suppose you despise me, that’s it.’
‘Of course I don’t. Why should I?’
‘It’s so unnatural.’
‘Is it? You’re not in love with me, are you?’
‘Me? Who d’you take me for?’
‘It’s not as if you were a very passionate woman, you’re not that.’
‘It’s so humiliating,’ she said sulkily.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t fuss about that if I were you.’
There were about a dozen people in the boarding-house. They ate in a narrow, dark room at a long table, at the head of which the landlady sat and carved. The food was bad. The landlady called it French cooking, by which she meant that the poor quality of the materials was disguised by ill-made sauces: plaice masqueraded as sole and New Zealand mutton as lamb. The kitchen was small and inconvenient, so that everything was served up lukewarm. The people were dull and pretentious; old ladies with elderly maiden daughters; funny old bachelors with mincing ways; pale-faced, middle-aged clerks with wives, who talked of their married daughters and their sons who were in a very good position in the Colonies. At table they discussed Miss Corelli’s latest novel; some of them liked Lord Leighton better than Mr. Alma-Tadema, and some of them liked Mr. Alma-Tadema better than Lord Leighton. Mildred soon told the ladies of her romantic marriage with Philip; and he found himself an object of interest because his family, county people in a very good position, had cut him off with a shilling because he married while he was only a stoodent; and Mildred’s father, who had a large place down Devonshire way, wouldn’t do anything for them because she had married Philip. That was why they had come to a boarding-house and had not a nurse for the baby; but they had to have two rooms because they were both used to a good deal of accommodation and they didn’t care to be cramped. The other visitors also had explanations of their presence: one of the single gentlemen generally went to the Metropole for his holiday, but he liked cheerful company and you couldn’t get that at one of those expensive hotels; and the old lady with the middle-aged daughter was having her beautiful house in London done up and she said to her daughter: ‘Gwennie, my dear, we must have a cheap holiday this year,’ and so they had come there, though of course it wasn’t at all the kind of thing they were used to. Mildred found them all very superior, and she hated a lot of common, rough people. She liked gentlemen to be gentlemen in every sense of the word.
‘When people are gentlemen and ladies,’ she said, ‘I like them to be gentlemen and ladies.’
The remark seemed cryptic to Philip, but when he heard her say it two or three times to different persons, and found that it aroused hearty agreement, he came to the conclusion that it was only obscure to his own intelligence. It was the first time that Philip and Mildred had been thrown entirely together. In London he did not see her all day, and when he came home the household affairs, the baby, the neighbours, gave them something to talk about till he settled down to work. Now he spent the whole day with her. After breakfast they went down to the beach; the morning went easily enough with a bathe and a stroll along the front; the evening, which they spent on the pier, having put the baby to bed, was tolerable, for there was music to listen to and a constant stream of people to look at; (Philip amused himself by imagining who they were and weaving little stories about them; he had got into the habit of answering Mildred’s remarks with his mouth only so that his thoughts remained undisturbed;) but the afternoons were long and dreary. They sat on the beach. Mildred said they must get all the benefit they could out of Doctor Brighton, and he could not read because Mildred made observations frequently about things in general. If he paid no attention she complained.
‘Oh, leave that silly old book alone. It can’t be good for you always reading. You’ll addle your brain, that’s what you’ll do, Philip.’
‘Oh, rot!’ he answered.
‘Besides, it’s so unsociable.’
He discovered that it was difficult to talk to her. She had not even the power of attending to what she was herself saying, so that a dog running in front of her or the passing of a man in a loud blazer would call forth a remark and then she would forget what she had been speaking of. She had a bad memory for names, and it irritated her not to be able to think of them, so that she would pause in the middle of some story to rack her brains. Sometimes she had to give it up, but it often occurred to her afterwards, and when Philip was talking of something she would interrupt him.
‘Collins, that was it. I knew it would come back to me some time. Collins, that’s the name I couldn’t remember.’
It exasperated him because it showed that she was not listening to anything he said, and yet, if he was silent, she reproached him for sulkiness. Her mind was of an order that could not deal for five minutes with the abstract, and when Philip gave way to his taste for generalising she very quickly showed that she was bored. Mildred dreamt a great deal, and she had an accurate memory for her dreams, which she would relate every day with prolixity.
One morning he received a long letter from Thorpe Athelny. He was taking his holiday in the theatrical way, in which there was much sound sense, which characterised him. He had done the same thing for ten years. He took his whole family to a hop-field in Kent, not far from Mrs. Athelny’s home, and they spent three weeks hopping. It kept them in the open air, earned them money, much to Mrs. Athelny’s satisfaction, and renewed their contact with mother earth. It was upon this that Athelny laid stress. The sojourn in the fields gave them a new strength; it was like a magic ceremony, by which they renewed their youth and the power of their limbs and the sweetness of the spirit: Philip had heard him say many fantastic, rhetorical, and picturesque things on the subject. Now Athelny invited him to come over for a day, he had certain meditations on Shakespeare and the musical glasses which he desired to impart, and the children were clamouring for a sight of Uncle Philip. Philip read the letter again in the afternoon when he was sitting with Mildred on the beach. He thought of Mrs. Athelny, cheerful mother of many children, with her kindly hospitality and her good humour; of Sally, grave for her years, with funny little maternal ways and an air of authority, with her long plait of fair hair and her broad forehead; and then in a bunch of all the others, merry, boisterous, healthy, and handsome. His heart went out to them. There was one quality which they had that he did not remember to have noticed in people before, and that was goodness. It had not occurred to him till now, but it was evidently the beauty of their goodness which attracted him. In theory he did not believe in it: if morality were no more than a matter of convenience good and evil had no meaning. He did not like to be illogical, but here was simple goodness, natural and without effort, and he thought it beautiful. Meditating, he slowly tore the letter into little pieces; he did not see how he could go without Mildred, and he did not want to go with her.
It was very hot, the sky was cloudless, and they had been driven to a shady corner. The baby was gravely playing with stones on the beach, and now and then she crawled up to Philip and gave him one to hold, then took it away again and placed it carefully down. She was playing a mysterious and complicated game known only to herself. Mildred was asleep. She lay with her head thrown back and her mouth slightly open; her legs were stretched out, and her boots protruded from her petticoats in a grotesque fashion. His eyes had been resting on her vaguely, but now he looked at her with peculiar attention. He remembered how passionately he had loved her, and he wondered why now he was entirely indifferent to her. The change in him filled him with dull pain. It seemed to him that all he had suffered had been sheer waste. The touch of her hand had filled him with ecstasy; he had desired to enter into her soul so that he could share every thought with her and every feeling; he had suffered acutely because, when silence had fallen between them, a remark of hers showed how far their thoughts had travelled apart, and he had rebelled against the unsurmountable wall which seemed to divide every personality from every other. He found it strangely tragic that he had loved her so madly and now loved her not at all. Sometimes he hated her. She was incapable of learning, and the experience of life had taught her nothing. She was as unmannerly as she had always been. It revolted Philip to hear the insolence with which she treated the hard-worked servant at the boarding-house.
Presently he considered his own plans. At the end of his fourth year he would be able to take his examination in midwifery, and a year more would see him qualified. Then he might manage a journey to Spain. He wanted to see the pictures which he knew only from photographs; he felt deeply that El Greco held a secret of peculiar moment to him; and he fancied that in Toledo he would surely find it out. He did not wish to do things grandly, and on a hundred pounds he might live for six months in Spain: if Macalister put him on to another good thing he could make that easily. His heart warmed at the thought of those old beautiful cities, and the tawny plains of Castile. He was convinced that more might be got out of life than offered itself at present, and he thought that in Spain he could live with greater intensity: it might be possible to practise in one of those old cities, there were a good many foreigners, passing or resident, and he should be able to pick up a living. But that would be much later; first he must get one or two hospital appointments; they gave experience and made it easy to get jobs afterwards. He wished to get a berth as ship’s doctor on one of the large tramps that took things leisurely enough for a man to see something of the places at which they stopped. He wanted to go to the East; and his fancy was rich with pictures of Bangkok and Shanghai, and the ports of Japan: he pictured to himself palm-trees and skies blue and hot, dark-skinned people, pagodas; the scents of the Orient intoxicated his nostrils. His heart but with passionate desire for the beauty and the strangeness of the world.
Mildred awoke.
‘I do believe I’ve been asleep,’ she said. ‘Now then, you naughty girl, what have you been doing to yourself? Her dress was clean yesterday and just look at it now, Philip.’