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The Black Robe-Part21_WILKIE COLLINS (1824-1899)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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this would be--a broad hint, isn't it, dear Lady Loring?--what a



house for a wedding, with the drawing-room to assemble in and the

picture gallery for the breakfast. I know the Archbishop. My



darling, he shall marry you. Why _don't_ you go into the next

room? Ah, that constitutional indolence. If you only had my



energy, as I used to say to your poor father. _Will_ you go? Yes,

dear Lady Loring, I should like a glass of champagne, and another



of those delicious chicken sandwiches. If you don't go, Stella, I

shall forget every consideration of propriety, and, big as you



are, I shall push you out."

Stella yielded to necessity. "Keep her quiet, if you can," she



whispered to Lady Loring, in the moment of silence that followed.

Even Mrs. Eyrecourt was not able to talk while she was drinking



champagne.

In the next room Stella found Romayne. He looked careworn and



irritable, but brightened directly when she approached him.

"My mother has been speaking to you," she said. "I am afraid--"



He stopped her there. "She _is_ your mother," he interposed,

kindly. "Don't think that I am ungrateful enough to forget that."



She took his arm, and looked at him with all her heart in her

eyes. "Come into a quieter room," she whispered.



Romayne led her away. Neither of them noticed Penrose as they

left the room.



He had not moved since Stella had spoken to him. There he

remained in his corner, absorbed in thought--and not in happy



thought, as his face would have plainly betrayed to any one who

had cared to look at him. His eyes sadly followed the retiring



figures of Stella and Romayne. The color rose on his haggard

cheeks. Like most men who are accustomed to live alone, he had



the habit, when he was strongly excited, of speaking to himself.

"No," he said, as the unacknowledged lovers disappeared through



the door, "it is an insult to ask me to do it!" He turned the

other way, escaped Lady Loring's notice in the reception-room,



and left the house.

Romayne and Stella passed through the card-room and the



chess-room, turned into a corridor, and entered the conservatory.

For the first time the place was a solitude. The air of a



newly-invented dance, faintlyaudible through the open windows of

the ballroom above, had proved an irresistibletemptation. Those



who knew the dance were eager to exhibit themselves. Those who

had only heard of it were equallyanxious to look on and learn.



Even toward the latter end of the nineteenth century the youths

and maidens of Society can still be in earnest--when the object



in view is a new dance.

What would Major Hynd have said if he had seen Romayne turn into



one of the recesses of the conservatory, in which there was a

seat which just held two? But the Major had forgotten his years



and his family, and he too was one of the spectators in the

ballroom.



"I wonder," said Stella, "whether you know how I feel those kind

words of yours when you spoke of my mother. Shall I tell you?"



She put her arm round his neck and kissed him. He was a man new

to love, in the nobler sense of the word. The exquisite softness



in the touch of her lips, the deliciousfragrance of her breath,

intoxicated him. Again and again he returned the kiss. She drew



back; she recovered her self-possession with a suddenness and a

certainty incomprehensible to a man. From the depths of



tenderness she passed to the shallows of frivolity. In her own

defense she was almost as superficial as her mother, in less than



a moment.

"What would Mr. Penrose say if he saw you?" she whispered.



"Why do you speak of Penrose? Have you seen him to-night?"

"Yes--looking sadly out of his element, poor man. I did my best



to set him at his ease--because I know _you_ like him."

"Dear Stella!"



"No, not again! I am speakingseriously now. Mr. Penrose looked

at me with a strange kind of interest--I can't describe it. Have



you taken him into our confidence?"

"He is so devoted--he has such a true interest in me," said



Romayne--"I really felt ashamed to treat him like a stranger. On

our journey to London I did own that it was your charming letter



which had decided me on returning. I did say, 'I must tell her

myself how well she has understood me, and how deeply I feel her






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