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Soul of a Bishop-Part5_H. G. WELLS (1866-1946)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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Since they had come to Princhester Lady Ella had changed very



markedly. She seemed to her husband to have gained in dignity;

she was stiller and more restrained; a certain faint arrogance, a



touch of the "ruling class" manner had dwindled almost to the

vanishing point. There had been a time when she had inclined to



an authoritative hauteur, when she had seemed likely to develop

into one of those aggressive and interfering old ladies who play



so overwhelming a part in British public affairs. She had been

known to initiateadverse judgments, to exercise the snub, to cut



and humiliate. Princhester had done much to purge her of such

tendencies. Princhester had made her think abundantly, and had



put a new and subtler quality into her beauty. It had taken away

the least little disposition to rustle as she moved, and it had



softened her voice.

Now, when presently she stood in the study, she showed a new



circumspection in her treatment of her husband. She surveyed the

tray before him.



"You ought not to drink that Burgundy," she said. "I can see

you are dog-tired. It was uncorked yesterday, and anyhow it is



not very digestible. This cold meat is bad enough. You ought to

have one of those quarter bottles of champagne you got for my



last convalescence. There's more than a dozen left over."

The bishop felt that this was a pretty return of his own kindly



thoughts "after many days," and soon Dunk, his valet-butler, was

pouring out the precious and refreshing glassful....



"And now, dear?" said the bishop, feeling already much better.

Lady Ella had come round to the marblefireplace. The



mantel-piece was a handsome work by a Princhester artist in the

Gill style--with contemplative ascetics as supporters.



"I am worried about Eleanor," said Lady Ella.

"She is in the dining-room now," she said, "having some dinner.



She came in about a quarter past eight, half way through dinner."

"Where had she been?" asked the bishop.



"Her dress was torn--in two places. Her wrist had been

twisted and a little sprained."



"My dear!"

"Her face--Grubby! And she had been crying."



"But, my dear, what had happened to her? You don't mean--?"

Husband and wife stared at one another aghast. Neither of them



said the horrid word that flamed between them.

"Merciful heaven!" said the bishop, and assumed an attitude of



despair.

"I didn't know she knew any of them. But it seems it is the



second Walshingham girl--Phoebe. It's impossible to trace a

girl's thoughts and friends. She persuaded her to go."



"But did she understand?"

"That's the serious thing," said Lady Ella.



She seemed to consider whether he could bear the blow.

"She understands all sorts of things. She argues.... I am quite



unable to argue with her."

"About this vote business?"



"About all sorts of things. Things I didn't imagine she had

heard of. I knew she had been reading books. But I never imagined



that she could have understood...."

The bishop laid down his knife and fork.



"One may read in books, one may even talk of things, without

fully understanding," he said.



Lady Ella tried to entertain this comforting thought. "It isn't

like that," she said at last. "She talks like a grown-up person.



This--this escapade is just an accident. But things have gone

further than that. She seems to think--that she is not being



educated properly here, that she ought to go to a College. As if

we were keeping things from her...."



The bishop reconsidered his plate.

"But what things?" he said.



"She says we get all round her," said Lady Ella, and left the

implications of that phrase to unfold.



(9)

For a time the bishop said very little.



Lady Ella had found it necessary to make her first announcement

standing behind him upon the hearthrug, but now she sat upon the



arm of the great armchair as close to him as possible, and spoke

in a more familiar tone.






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