pgw.uneasymoney-第6部分

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　'There's　no　harm　in　my　nosing　round；　is　there？　Be　a　good　chap　and　give　me　the　address。'
　'Well'with　misgivings'Brookport；　Long　Island。'
　'Thanks。'
　'Bill；　are　you　really　going　to　make　a　fool　of　yourself？'
　'Not　a　bit　of　it；　old　chap。　I'm　just　going　toer'
　'To　nose　round？'
　'To　nose　round；'　said　Bill。
　Jerry　Nichols　acpanied　his　friend　to　the　door；　and　once　more　peace　reigned　in　the　offices　of　Nichols；　Nichols；　Nichols；　and　Nichols。
　The　time　of　a　man　who　has　at　a　moment's　notice　decided　to　leave　his　native　land　for　a　sojourn　on　foreign　soil　is　necessarily　taken　up　with　a　variety　of　occupations；　and　it　was　not　till　the　following　afternoon；　on　the　boat　at　Liverpool；　that　Bill　had　leisure　to　write　to　Claire；　giving　her　the　news　of　what　had　befallen　him。　He　had　booked　his　ticket　by　a　Liverpool　boat　in　preference　to　one　that　sailed　from　Southampton　because　he　had　not　been　sure　how　Claire　would　take　the　news　of　his　sudden　decision　to　leave　for　America。　There　was　the　chance　that　she　might　ridicule　or　condemn　the　scheme；　and　he　preferred　to　get　away　without　seeing　her。　Now　that　he　had　received　this　astounding　piece　of　news　from　Jerry　Nichols　he　was　relieved　that　he　had　acted　in　this　way。　Whatever　Claire　might　have　thought　of　the　original　scheme；　there　was　no　doubt　at　all　what　she　would　think　of　his　plan　of　seeking　out　Elizabeth　Boyd　with　a　view　to　dividing　the　legacy　with　her。
　He　was　guarded　in　his　letter。　He　mentioned　no　definite　figures。　He　wrote　that　Ira　Nutbe　of　whom　they　had　spoken　so　often　had　most　surprisingly　left　him　in　his　will　a　large　sum　of　money；　and　eased　his　conscience　by　telling　himself　that　half　of　a　million　pounds　undeniably　was　a　large　sum　of　money。
　The　addressing　of　the　letter　called　for　thought。　She　would　have　left　Southampton　with　the　rest　of　the　pany　before　it　could　arrive。　Where　was　it　that　she　said　they　were　going　next　week？　Portsmouth；　that　was　it。　He　addressed　the　letter　Care　of　The　Girl　and　the　Artist　pany；　to　the　King's　Theatre；　Portsmouth。
　
　5
　The　village　of　Brookport；　Long　Island；　is　a　summer　place。　It　lives；　like　the　mosquitoes　that　infest　it；　entirely　on　its　summer　visitors。　At　the　time　of　the　death　of　Mr　Ira　Nutbe；　the　only　all…the…year…round　inhabitants　were　the　butcher；　the　grocer；　the　chemist；　the　other　customary　fauna　of　villages；　and　Miss　Elizabeth　Boyd；　who　rented　the　ramshackle　farm　known　locally　as　Flack's　and　eked　out　a　precarious　livelihood　by　keeping　bees。
　If　you　take　down　your　_Encyclopaedia　Britannica_；　Volume　III；　AUS　to　BIS；　you　will　find　that　bees　are　a　'large　and　natural　family　of　the　zoological　order　Hymenoptera；　characterized　by　the　plumose　form　of　many　of　their　hairs；　by　the　large　size　of　the　basal　segment　of　the　foot　。。。　and　by　the　development　of　a　〃tongue〃　for　sucking　liquid　food；'　the　last　of　which　peculiarities；　it　is　interesting　to　note；　they　shared　with　Claude　Nutbe　Boyd；　Elizabeth's　brother；　who　for　quite　a　long　timetill　his　money　ran　outhad　made　liquid　food　almost　his　sole　means　of　sustenance。　These　things；　however；　are　by　the　way。　We　are　not　such　snobs　as　to　think　better　or　worse　of　a　bee　because　it　can　claim　kinship　with　the　_Hymenoptera_　family；　nor　so　ill…bred　as　to　chaff　it　for　having　large　feet。　The　really　interesting　passage　in　the　article　occurs　later；　where　it　says：　'The　bee　industry　prospers　greatly　in　America。'
　This　is　one　of　those　broad　statements　that　invite　challenge。　Elizabeth　Boyd　would　have　challenged　it。　She　had　not　prospered　greatly。　With　considerable　trouble　she　contrived　to　pay　her　way；　and　that　was　all。
　Again　referring　to　the　'Encyclopaedia；'　we　find　the　words：　'Before　undertaking　the　management　of　a　modern　apiary；　the　beekeeper　should　possess　a　certain　amount　of　aptitude　for　the　pursuit。'　This　was　possibly　the　trouble　with　Elizabeth's　venture；　considered　from　a　mercial　point　of　view。　She　loved　bees；　but　she　was　not　an　expert　on　them。　She　had　started　her　apiary　with　a　small　capital；　a　book　of　practical　hints；　and　a　second…hand　queen；　principally　because　she　was　in　need　of　some　occupation　that　would　enable　her　to　live　in　the　country。　It　was　the　unfortunate　condition　of　Claude　Nutbe　which　made　life　in　the　country　a　necessity。　At　that　time　he　was　spending　the　remains　of　the　money　left　him　by　his　aunt；　and　Elizabeth　had　hardly　settled　down　at　Brookport　and　got　her　venture　under　way　when　she　found　herself　obliged　to　provide　for　Nutty　a　bination　of　home　and　sanatorium。　It　had　been　the　poor　lad's　mistaken　view　that　he　could　drink　up　all　the　alcoholic　liquor　in　America。
　It　is　a　curious　law　of　Nature　that　the　most　undeserving　brothers　always　have　the　best　sisters。　Thrifty；　plodding　young　men；　who　get　up　early；　and　do　it　now；　and　catch　the　employer's　eye；　and　save　half　their　salaries；　have　sisters　who　never　speak　civilly　to　them　except　when　they　want　to　borrow　money。　To　the　Claude　Nutbes　of　the　world　are　vouchsafed　the　Elizabeths。
　The　great　aim　of　Elizabeth's　life　was　to　make　a　new　man　of　Nutty。　It　was　her　hope　that　the　quiet　life　and　soothing　air　of　Brookport；　withunless　you　counted　the　money…in…the…slot　musical　box　at　the　storeits　absence　of　the　fiercer　excitements；　might　in　time　pull　him　together　and　unscramble　his　disordered　nervous　system。　She　liked　to　listen　of　a　morning　to　the　sound　of　Nutty　busy　in　the　next　room　with　a　broom　and　a　dustpan；　for　in　the　simple　lexicon　of　Flack's　there　was　no　such　word　as　'help'。　The　privy　purse　would　not　run　to　a　maid。　Elizabeth　did　the　cooking　and　Claude　Nutbe　the　housework。
　Several　days　after　Claire　Fenwick　and　Lord　Dawlish；　by　different　routes；　had　sailed　from　England；　Elizabeth　Boyd　sat　up　in　bed　and　shook　her　mane　of　hair　from　her　eyes；　yawning。　Outside　her　window　the　birds　were　singing；　and　a　shaft　of　sunlight　intruded　itself　beneath　the　blind。　But　what　definitely　convinced　her　that　it　was　time　to　get　up　was　the　plaintive　note　of　James；　the　cat；　patrolling　the　roof　of　the　porch。　An　animal　of　regular　habits；　James　always　called　for　breakfast　at　eight…thirty　sharp。
　Elizabeth　got　out　of　bed；　wrapped　her　small　body　in　a　pink　kimono；　thrust　her　small　feet　into　a　pair　of　blue　slippers；　yawned　again；　and　went　downstairs。　Having　taken　last　night's　milk　from　the　ice…box；　she　went　to　the　back　door；　and；　having　filled　James's　saucer；　stood　on　the　grass　beside　it；　sniffing　the　morning　air。
　Elizabeth　Boyd　was　twenty…one；　but　standing　there　with　her　hair　tumbling　about　her　shoulders　she　might　have　been　taken　by　a　not…too…close　observer　for　a　child。　It　was　only　when　you　saw　her　eyes　and　the　resolute　tilt　of　the　chin　that　you　realized　that　she　was　a　young　woman　very　well　able　to　take　care　of　herself　in　a　difficult　world。　Her　hair　was　very　fair；　her　eyes　brown　and　very　bright；　and　the　contrast　was　extraordinarily　piquant。　They　were　valiant　eyes；　full　of　spirit；　eyes；　also；　that　saw　the　humour　of　things。　And　her　mouth　was　the　mouth　of　one　who　laughs　easily。　Her　chin；　small　like　the　rest　of　her；　was　strong；　and　in　the　way　she　held　herself　there　was　a　boyish　jauntiness。　She　lookedand　wasa　capable　little　person。
　She　stood　besides　James　like　a　sentinel；　watching　over　him　as　he　breakfasted。　There　was　a　puppy　belonging　to　one　of　the　neighbours　who　sometimes　lumbered　over　and　stole　James's　milk；　disposing　of　it　in　greedy　gulps　while　its　rightful　proprietor　looked　on　with　piteous　helplessness。　Elizabeth　was　fond　of　the　puppy；　but　her　sense　of　justice　was　keen　and　she　was　there　to　check　this　brigandage。
　It　was　a　perfect　day；　cloudless　and　still。　There　was　peace　in　the　air。　James；　having　finished　his　milk；　began　to　wash　himself。　A　squirrel　climbed　cautiously　down　from　a　linden　tree。　From　the　orchard　came　the　murmur　of　many　bees。
　Aesthetically　Elizabeth　was　fond　of　still；　cloudless　days；　but　experience　had　taught　her　to　suspect　them。　As　was　the　custom　in　that　locality；　the　water　supply　depended　on　a　rickety　windwheel。　It　was　with　a　dark　foreboding　that　she　returned　to　the　kitchen　and　turned　on　one　of　the　taps。　For　perhaps　three　seconds　a　stream　of　the　dimension　of　a　darning…needle　emerged；　then　with　a　sad　gurgle　the　tap　relapsed　into　a　stolid　inaction。　There　is　no　stolidity　so　utter　as　that　of　a　waterless　tap。
　'Confound　it！'　said　Elizabeth。
　She　passed　through　the　dining…room　to　the　foot　of　the　stairs。
　'Nutty！'　　There　was　no　reply。
　'Nutty；　my　precious　lamb！'
　Upstairs　in　the　room　next　to　her　own　a　long；　spare　form　began　to　uncurl　itself　in　bed；　a　face　with　a　receding　chin　and　a　small　forehead　raised　itself　reluctantly　from　the　pillow；　and　Claude　Nutbe　Boyd　signalized　the　fact　that　he　was　awake　by　scowling　at　the　morning　sun　and　uttering　an　aggrieved　groan。
　Alas；　poor　Nutty！　This　was　he　whom　but　yesterday　Broadway　had　known　as　the　Speed　Kid；　on　whom　head…waiters　had　smiled　and　lesser　waiters　fawned；　whose　snake…like　form　had　nestled　in　so　many　a　front…row　orchestra　stall。
　Where　were　his　lobster　Newburgs　now；　his　cold　quarts　that　were　wont　to　set　the　table　in　a　roar？
　Nutty　Boyd　conformed　as　nearly　as　a　human　being　may　to　Euclid's　definition　of　a　straight　line。　He　was　length　without　breadth。　From　boyhood's　early　day　he　had　sprouted　like　a　weed；　till　now　in　the　middle　twenties　he　gave　startled　strangers　the　conviction　that　it　only　required　a　sharp　gust　of　wind　to　snap　him　in　half。　Lying　in　bed；　he　looked　more　like　a　length　of　hose…pipe　than　anything　else。　While　he　was　unwinding　himself　the　door　opened　and　Elizabeth　came　into　the　room。
　'Good　morning；　Nutty！'
　'What's　the　time？'　asked　her　brother；　hollowly。
　'Getting　on　towards　nine。　It's　a　lovely　day。　The　birds　are　singing；　the　bees　are　buzzing；　summer's　in　the　air。　It's　one　of　those　beautiful；　shiny；　heavenly；　gorgeous　days。'
　A　look　of　suspicion　came　into　Nutty's　eyes。　Elizabeth　was　not　often　as　lyrical　as　this。
　'There's　a　catch　somewhere；'　he　said。
　'Well；　as　a　matter　of　fact；'　said　Elizabeth；　carelessly；　'the　water's　off　again。'
　'Confound　it！'
　'I　said　that。　I'm　afraid　we　aren't　a　very　original　family。
　'What　a　ghastly　place　this　is！　Why　can't　you　see　old　Flack　and　make　him　mend　that　infernal　wheel？'
　'I'm　going　to　pounce　on　him　and　have　another　try　directly　I　see　him。　Meanwhile；　darling　Nutty；　will　you　get　some　clothes　on　and　go　round　to　the　Smiths　and　ask　them　to　lend　us　a　pailful？'
　'Oh；　gosh；　it's　over　a　mile！'
　'No；　no；　not　more　than　three…quarters。'
　'Lugging　a　pail　that　weighs　a　ton！　The　last　time　I　went　there　their　dog　bit　me。'
　'I　expect　that　was　because　you　slunk　in　all　doubled　up；　and　he　got　suspicious。　You　should　hold　your　head　up　and　throw　your　chest　out　and　stride　up　as　if　you　were　a　military　friend　of　the　family。'
　Self…pity　lent　Nutty　eloquence。
　'For　Heaven's　sake！　You　drag　me　out　of　bed　at　some　awful　hour　of　the　morning　when　a　rational　person　would　just　be　turning　in；　you　send　me　across　country　to　fetch　pailfuls　of　water　when　I'm　feeling　like　a　corpse；　and　on　top　of　that　you　expect　me　to　behave　like　a　drum…major！'
　'Dearest；　you　can　wriggle　on　your　tummy；　if　you　like；　so　long　as　you　get　the　fluid。　We　must　have　water。　I　can't　fetch　it。　I'm　a　delicately…nurtured　female。'
　'We　ought　to　have　a　man　to　do　these　ghastly　jobs。'
　'But　we　can't　afford　one。　Just　at　present　all　I　ask　is　to　be　able　to　pay　expenses。　And；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　you　ought　to　be　very　thankful　that　you　have　go