pgw.uneasymoney-第14部分

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deceive　a　brother…mason。
　She　faced　him　bravely。
　'I　didn't　want　to　take　a　look　at　anything；　Mr　Chalmers。　I　opened　that　hive　because　I　wanted　you　to　drop　the　frame；　as　my　brother　did；　and　get　stung；　as　he　was；　because　I　thought　that　would　drive　you　away；　because　I　thought　then　that　I　didn't　want　you　down　here。　I'm　ashamed　of　myself；　and　I　don't　know　where　I'm　getting　the　nerve　to　tell　you　this。　I　hope　you　will　stay　onon　and　on　and　on。'
　Bill　was　aghast。
　'Good　Lord！　If　I'm　in　the　way'
　'You　aren't　in　the　way。'
　'But　you　said'
　'But　don't　you　see　that　it's　so　different　now？　I　didn't　know　then　that　you　were　fond　of　bees。　You　must　stay；　if　my　telling　you　hasn't　made　you　feel　that　you　want　to　catch　the　next　train。　You　will　save　our　livesmine　and　Nutty's　too。　Oh；　dear；　you're　hesitating！　You're　trying　to　think　up　some　polite　way　of　getting　out　of　the　place！　You　mustn't　go；　Mr　Chalmers；　you　simply　must　stay。　There　aren't　any　mosquitoes；　no　jellyfishnothing！　At　least；　there　are；　but　what　do　they　matter？　You　don't　mind　them。　Do　you　play　golf？'
　'Yes。'
　'There　are　links　here。　You　can't　go　until　you've　tried　them。　What　is　your　handicap？'
　'Plus　two。'
　'So　is　mine。'
　'By　Jove！　Really？'
　Elizabeth　looked　at　him；　her　eyes　dancing。
　'Why；　we're　practically　twin　souls；　Mr　Chalmers！　Tell　me；　I　know　your　game　is　nearly　perfect；　but　if　you　have　a　fault；　is　it　a　tendency　to　putt　too　hard？'
　'Why；　by　Joveyes；　it　is！'
　'I　knew　it。　Something　told　me。　It's　the　curse　of　my　life　too！　Well；　after　that　you　can't　go　away。'
　'But　if　I'm　in　the　way'
　'In　the　way！　Mr　Chalmers；　will　you　e　in　now　and　help　me　wash　the　breakfast　things？'
　'Rather！'　said　Lord　Dawlish。
　
　10
　In　the　days　that　followed　their　interrupted　love…scene　at　Reigelheimer's　Restaurant　that　night　of　Lord　Dawlish's　unfortunate　encounter　with　the　tray…bearing　waiter；　Dudley　Pickering's　behaviour　had　perplexed　Claire　Fenwick。　She　had　taken　it　for　granted　that　next　day　at　the　latest　he　would　resume　the　offer　of　his　hand；　heart；　and　automobiles。　But　time　passed　and　he　made　no　move　in　that　direction。　Of　limousine　bodies；　carburettors；　spark…plugs；　and　inner　tubes　he　spoke　with　freedom　and　eloquence；　but　the　subject　of　love　and　marriage　he　avoided　absolutely。　His　behaviour　was　inexplicable。
　Claire　was　piqued。　She　was　in　the　position　of　a　hostess　who　has　swept　and　garnished　her　house　against　the　ing　of　a　guest　and　waits　in　vain　for　that　guest's　arrival。　She　made　up　her　mind　what　to　do　when　Dudley　Pickering　proposed　to　her　next　time；　and　thereby；　it　seemed　to　her；　had　removed　all　difficulties　in　the　way　of　that　proposal。　She　little　knew　her　Pickering！
　Dudley　Pickering　was　not　a　self…starter　in　the　motordrome　of　love。　He　needed　cranking。　He　was　that　most　unpromising　of　matrimonial　material；　a　shy　man　with　a　cautious　disposition。　If　he　overcame　his　shyness；　caution　applied　the　foot…brake。　If　he　succeeded　in　forgetting　caution；　shyness　shut　off　the　gas。　At　Reigelheimer's　some　miracle　had　made　him　not　only　reckless　but　un…self…conscious。　Possibly　the　Dream　of　Psyche　had　gone　to　his　head。　At　any　rate；　he　had　been　on　the　very　verge　of　proposing　to　Claire　when　the　interruption　had　occurred；　and　in　bed　that　night；　reviewing　the　affair；　he　had　been　appalled　at　the　narrowness　of　his　escape　from　taking　a　definite　step。　Except　in　the　way　of　business；　he　was　a　man　who　hated　definite　steps。　He　never　accepted　even　a　dinner　invitation　without　subsequent　doubts　and　remorse。　The　consequence　was　that；　in　the　days　that　followed　the　Reigelheimer　episode；　what　Lord　Wetherby　would　have　called　the　lamp　of　love　burned　rather　low　in　Mr　Pickering；　as　if　the　acetylene　were　running　out。　He　still　admired　Claire　intensely　and　experienced　disturbing　emotions　when　he　beheld　her　perfect　tonneau　and　wonderful　headlights；　but　he　regarded　her　with　a　cautious　fear。　Although　he　sometimes　dreamed　sentimentally　of　marriage　in　the　abstract；　of　actual　marriage；　of　marriage　with　a　flesh…and…blood　individual；　of　marriage　that　involved　clergymen　and　'Voices　that　Breathe　o'er　Eden；'　and　giggling　bridesmaids　and　cake；　Dudley　Pickering　was　afraid　with　a　terror　that　woke　him　sweating　in　the　night。　His　shyness　shrank　from　the　ceremony；　his　caution　jibbed　at　the　mysteries　of　married　life。　So　his　attitude　toward　Claire；　the　only　girl　who　had　succeeded　in　bewitching　him　into　the　opening　words　of　an　actual　proposal；　was　a　little　less　cordial　and　affectionate　than　if　she　had　been　a　rival　automobile　manufacturer。
　Matters　were　in　this　state　when　Lady　Wetherby；　who；　having　danced　classical　dances　for　three　months　without　a　break；　required　a　rest；　shifted　her　camp　to　the　house　which　she　had　rented　for　the　summer　at　Brookport；　Long　Island；　taking　with　her　Algie；　her　husband；　the　monkey　Eustace；　and　Claire　and　Mr　Pickering；　her　guests。　The　house　was　a　large　one；　capable　of　receiving　a　big　party；　but　she　did　not　wish　to　entertain　on　an　ambitious　scale。　The　only　other　guest　she　proposed　to　put　up　was　Roscoe　Sherriff；　her　press　agent；　who　was　to　e　down　as　soon　as　he　could　get　away　from　his　metropolitan　duties。
　It　was　a　pleasant　and　romantic　place；　the　estate　which　Lady　Wetherby　had　rented。　Standing　on　a　hill；　the　house　looked　down　through　green　trees　on　the　gleaming　waters　of　the　bay。　Smooth　lawns　and　shady　walks　it　had；　and　rustic　seats　beneath　spreading　cedars。　Yet　for　all　its　effect　on　Dudley　Pickering　it　might　have　been　a　gasworks。　He　roamed　the　smooth　lawns　with　Claire；　and　sat　with　her　on　the　rustic　benches　and　talked　guardedly　of　lubricating　oil。　There　were　moments　when　Claire　was　almost　impelled　to　forfeit　whatever　chance　she　might　have　had　of　being　mistress　of　thirty　million　dollars　and　a　flourishing　business；　for　the　satisfaction　of　administering　just　one　whole…hearted　slap　on　his　round　and　thinly…covered　head。
　And　then　Roscoe　Sherriff　came　down；　and　Dudley　Pickering；　who　for　days　had　been　using　all　his　resolution　to　struggle　against　the　siren；　suddenly　found　that　there　was　no　siren　to　struggle　against。　No　sooner　had　the　press　agent　appeared　than　Claire　deserted　him　shamelessly　and　absolutely。　She　walked　with　Roscoe　Sherriff。　Mr　Pickering　experienced　the　disfiting　emotions　of　the　man　who　pushes　violently　against　an　abruptly…yielding　door；　or　treads　heavily　on　the　top　stair　where　there　is　no　top　stair。　He　was　shaken；　and　the　clamlike　stolidity　which　he　had　assumed　as　protection　gave　way。
　Night　had　descended　upon　Brookport。　Eustace；　the　monkey；　was　in　his　little　bed；　Lord　Wetherby　in　the　smoking…room。　It　was　Sunday；　the　day　of　rest。　Dinner　was　over；　and　the　remainder　of　the　party　were　gathered　in　the　drawing…room；　with　the　exception　of　Mr　Pickering；　who　was　smoking　a　cigar　on　the　porch。　A　full　moon　turned　Long　Island　into　a　fairyland。
　Gloom　had　settled　upon　Dudley　Pickering　and　he　smoked　sadly。　All　rather　stout　automobile　manufacturers　are　sad　when　there　is　a　full　moon。　It　makes　them　feel　lonely。　It　stirs　their　hearts　to　thoughts　of　love。　Marriage　loses　its　terrors　for　them；　and　they　think　wistfully　of　hooking　some　fair　woman　up　the　back　and　buying　her　hats。　Such　was　the　mood　of　Mr　Pickering；　when　through　the　dimness　of　the　porch　there　appeared　a　white　shape；　moving　softly　toward　him。
　'Is　that　you；　Mr　Pickering？'
　Claire　dropped　into　the　seat　beside　him。　From　the　drawing…room　came　the　soft　tinkle　of　a　piano。　The　sound　blended　harmoniously　with　the　quiet　peace　of　the　night。　Mr　Pickering　let　his　cigar　go　out　and　clutched　the　sides　of　his　chair
　　　　Oi'llersing　thee　saw…ongs　ov　Arrabee；
　Undah　ta…ales　of　farrr　Cash…mee…eere；　　　　　Wi…ild　tales　to　che…eat　thee　ovasigh
　Und　charrrrm　thee　to…oo　a　tear…er。
　Claire　gave　a　little　sigh。
　'What　a　beautiful　voice　Mr　Sherriff　has！'
　Dudley　Pickering　made　no　reply。　He　thought　Roscoe　Sherriff　had　a　beastly　voice。　He　resented　Roscoe　Sherriff's　voice。　He　objected　to　Roscoe　Sherriff's　polluting　this　fair　night　with　his　cacophony。
　'Don't　you　think　so；　Mr　Pickering？'
　'Uh…huh。'
　'That　doesn't　sound　very　enthusiastic。　Mr　Pickering；　I　want　you　to　tell　me　something。　Have　I　done　anything　to　offend　you？'
　Mr　Pickering　started　violently。
　'Eh？'
　'I　have　seen　so　little　of　you　these　last　few　days。　A　little　while　ago　we　were　always　together；　having　such　interesting　talks。　But　lately　it　has　seemed　to　me　that　you　have　been　avoiding　me。'
　A　feeling　of　helplessness　swept　over　Mr　Pickering。　He　was　vaguely　conscious　of　a　sense　of　being　treated　unjustly；　of　there　being　a　flaw　in　Claire's　words　somewhere　if　he　could　only　find　it；　but　the　sudden　attack　had　deprived　him　of　the　free　and　unfettered　use　of　his　powers　of　reasoning。　He　gurgled　wordlessly；　and　Claire　went　on；　her　low；　sad　voice　mingling　with　the　moonlight　in　a　manner　that　caused　thrills　to　run　up　and　down　his　spine。　He　felt　paralyzed。　Caution　urged　him　to　make　some　excuse　and　follow　it　with　a　bolt　to　the　drawing…room；　but　he　was　physically　incapable　of　taking　the　excellent　advice。　Sometimes　when　you　are　out　in　your　Pickering　Gem　or　your　Pickering　Giant　the　car　hesitates；　falters；　and　stops　dead；　and　your　chauffeur；　having　examined　the　carburettor；　turns　to　you　and　explains　the　phenomenon　in　these　words：　'The　mixture　is　too　rich。'　So　was　it　with　Mr　Pickering　now。　The　moonlight　alone　might　not　have　held　him；　Claire's　voice　alone　might　not　have　held　him；　but　against　the　two　bined　he　was　powerless。　The　mixture　was　too　rich。　He　sat　and　breathed　a　little　stertorously；　and　there　came　to　him　that　conviction　that　es　to　all　of　us　now　and　then；　that　we　are　at　a　crisis　of　our　careers　and　that　the　moment　through　which　we　are　living　is　a　moment　big　with　fate。
　The　voice　in　the　drawing…room　stopped。　Having　sung　songs　of　Araby　and　tales　of　far　Cashmere；　Mr　Roscoe　Sherriff　was　refreshing　himself　with　a　ic　paper。　But　Lady　Wetherby；　seated　at　the　piano；　still　touched　the　keys　softly；　and　the　sound　increased　the　richness　of　the　mixture　which　choked　Dudley　Pickering's　spiritual　carburettor。　It　is　not　fair　that　a　rather　stout　manufacturer　should　be　called　upon　to　sit　in　the　moonlight　while　a　beautiful　girl；　to　the　acpaniment　of　soft　music；　reproaches　him　with　having　avoided　her。
　'I　should　be　so　sorry；　Mr　Pickering；　if　I　had　done　anything　to　make　a　difference　between　us'
　'Eh？'　said　Mr　Pickering。
　'I　have　so　few　real　friends　over　here。'
　Claire's　voice　trembled。
　'II　get　a　little　lonely；　a　little　homesick　sometimes'
　She　paused；　musing；　and　a　spasm　of　pity　rent　the　bosom　beneath　Dudley　Pickering's　ample　shirt。　There　was　a　buzzing　in　his　ears　and　a　lump　choked　his　throat。
　'Of　course；　I　am　loving　the　life　here。　I　think　America's　wonderful；　and　nobody　could　be　kinder　than　Lady　Wetherby。　ButI　miss　my　home。　It's　the　first　time　I　have　been　away　for　so　long。　I　feel　very　far　away　sometimes。　There　are　only　three　of　us　at　home：　my　mother；　myself；　and　my　little　brotherlittle　Percy。'
　Her　voice　trembled　again　as　she　spoke　the　last　two　words；　and　it　was　possibly　this　that　caused　Mr　Pickering　to　visualize　Percy　as　a　sort　of　little　Lord　Fauntleroy；　his　favourite　character　in　English　literature。　He　had　a　vision　of　a　small；　delicate；　wistful　child　pining　away　for　his　absent　sister。　Consumptive　probably。　Or　curvature　of　the　spine。
　He　found　Claire's　hand　in　his。　He　supposed　dully　he　must　have　reached　out　for　it。　Soft　and　warm　it