The Essential Writings of Rudyard Kipling (Illustrated Edition). Редьярд Киплинг

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       Mine was but an idle quest,—

       Roses white and red are best!

       ——Blue Roses

      Indeed the sea had not changed. Its waters were low on the mud-banks, and the Marazion Bell-buoy clanked and swung in the tide-way. On the white beach-sand dried stumps of sea-poppy shivered and chattered.

      "I don't see the old breakwater," said Maisie, under her breath.

      "Let's be thankful that we have as much as we have. I don't believe they've mounted a single new gun on the fort since we were here. Come and look."

      They came to the glacis of Fort Keeling, and sat down in a nook sheltered from the wind under the tarred throat of a forty-pounder cannon.

      "Now, if Ammoma were only here!" said Maisie.

      For a long time both were silent. Then Dick took Maisie's hand and called her by her name.

      She shook her head and looked out to sea.

      "Maisie, darling, doesn't it make any difference?"

      "No!" between clenched teeth. "I'd—I'd tell you if it did; but it doesn't. Oh, Dick, please be sensible."

      "Don't you think that it ever will?"

      "No, I'm sure it won't."

      "Why?"

      Maisie rested her chin on her hand, and, still regarding the sea, spoke hurriedly—"I know what you want perfectly well, but I can't give it to you, Dick. It isn't my fault; indeed, it isn't. If I felt that I could care for any one——But I don't feel that I care. I simply don't understand what the feeling means."

      "Is that true, dear?"

      "You've been very good to me, Dickie; and the only way I can pay you back is by speaking the truth. I daren't tell a fib. I despise myself quite enough as it is."

      "What in the world for?"

      "Because—because I take everything that you give me and I give you nothing in return. It's mean and selfish of me, and whenever I think of it it worries me."

      "Understand once for all, then, that I can manage my own affairs, and if I choose to do anything you aren't to blame. You haven't a single thing to reproach yourself with, darling."

      "Yes, I have, and talking only makes it worse."

      "Then don't talk about it."

      "How can I help myself? If you find me alone for a minute you are always talking about it; and when you aren't you look it. You don't know how I despise myself sometimes."

      "Great goodness!" said Dick, nearly jumping to his feet. "Speak the truth now, Maisie, if you never speak it again! Do I—does this worrying bore you?"

      "No. It does not."

      "You'd tell me if it did?"

      "I should let you know, I think."

      "Thank you. The other thing is fatal. But you must learn to forgive a man when he's in love. He's always a nuisance. You must have known that?"

      Maisie did not consider the last question worth answering, and Dick was forced to repeat it.

      "There were other men, of course. They always worried just when I was in the middle of my work, and wanted me to listen to them."

      "Did you listen?"

      "At first; and they couldn't understand why I didn't care. And they used to praise my pictures; and I thought they meant it. I used to be proud of the praise, and tell Kami, and—I shall never forget—once Kami laughed at me."

      "You don't like being laughed at, Maisie, do you?"

      "I hate it. I never laugh at other people unless—unless they do bad work. Dick, tell me honestly what you think of my pictures generally,—of everything of mine that you've seen."

      "'Honest, honest, and honest over!'" quoted Dick from a catchword of long ago. "Tell me what Kami always says."

      Maisie hesitated. "He—he says that there is feeling in them."

      "How dare you tell me a fib like that? Remember, I was under Kami for two years. I know exactly what he says."

      "It isn't a fib."

      "It's worse; it's a half-truth. Kami says, when he puts his head on one side,—so, 'Il y a du sentiment, mais il n'y a pas de parti pris.'" He rolled the r threateningly, as Kami used to do.

      "Yes, that is what he says; and I'm beginning to think that he is right."

      "Certainly he is." Dick admitted that two people in the world could do and say no wrong. Kami was the man.

      "And now you say the same thing. It's so disheartening."

      "I'm sorry, but you asked me to speak the truth. Besides, I love you too much to pretend about your work. It's strong, it's patient sometimes,—not always,—and sometimes there's power in it, but there's no special reason why it should be done at all. At least, that's how it strikes СКАЧАТЬ