Lady Barbarina, The Siege of London, An International Episode, and Other Tales. Генри Джеймс

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СКАЧАТЬ in engaging in a contest with the great house of Canterville he was after all rather single.  That singleness was of course in a great measure an inspiration; but it pinched him hard at moments.  Then it would have pleased him could his mother have been near; he used to talk of his affairs a great deal with this delightful parent, who had a delicate way of advising him in the sense he liked best.  He had even gone so far as to wish he had never laid eyes on Lady Barb, but had fallen in love instead with some one or other of the rarer home-products.  He presently came back of course to the knowledge that in the United States there was—and there could be—nothing nearly so rare as the young lady who had in fact appealed to him so straight, for was it not precisely as a high resultant of the English climate and the British constitution that he valued her?  He had relieved himself, from his New York point of view, by speaking his mind to Lady Beauchemin, who confessed that she was infinitely vexed with her parents.  She agreed with him that they had made a great mistake; they ought to have left him free; and she expressed her confidence that such freedom could only have been, in him, for her family, like the silence of the sage, golden.  He must let them down easily, must remember that what was asked of him had been their custom for centuries.  She didn’t mention her authority as to the origin of customs, but she promised him she would say three words to her father and mother which would make it all right.  Jackson answered that customs were all very well, but that really intelligent people recognised at sight, and then indeed quite enjoyed, the right occasion for departing from them; and with this he awaited the result of Lady Beauchemin’s remonstrance.  It had not as yet been perceptible, and it must be said that this charming woman was herself not quite at ease.

      When on her venturing to hint to her mother that she thought a wrong line had been taken with regard to her sister’s prétendant, Lady Canterville had replied that Mr. Lemon’s unwillingness to settle anything was in itself a proof of what they had feared, the unstable nature of his fortune—since it was useless to talk (this gracious lady could be very decided) as if there could be any serious reason but that one—on meeting this argument, as I say, Jackson’s protectress felt considerably baffled.  It was perhaps true, as her mother said, that if they didn’t insist upon proper pledges Barbarina might be left in a few years with nothing but the stars and stripes—this odd phrase was a quotation from Mr. Lemon—to cover her withal.  Lady Beauchemin tried to reason it out with Lady Marmaduke; but these were complications unforeseen by Lady Marmaduke in her project of an Anglo-American society.  She was obliged to confess that Mr. Lemon’s fortune couldn’t have the solidity of long-established things; it was a very new fortune indeed.  His father had made the greater part of it all in a lump, a few years before his death, in the extraordinary way in which people made money in America; that of course was why the son had those singular professional attributes.  He had begun to study to be a doctor very young, before his expectations were so great.  Then he had found he was very clever and very fond of it, and had kept on because after all, in America, where there were no country gentlemen, a young man had to have something to do, don’t you know?  And Lady Marmaduke, like an enlightened woman, intimated that in such a case she thought it in much better taste not to try to sink anything.  “Because in America, don’t you see?” she reasoned, “you can’t sink it—nothing will sink.  Everything’s floating about—in the newspapers.”  And she tried to console her friend by remarking that if Mr. Lemon’s fortune was precarious it was at all events so big.  That was just the trouble for Lady Beauchemin, it was so big and yet they were going to lose it.  He was as obstinate as a mule; she was sure he would never come round.  Lady Marmaduke declared he really would come round; she even offered to bet a dozen pair of gants de Suède on it; and she added that this consummation lay quite in the hands of Barbarina.  Lady Beauchemin promised herself to contend with her sister, as it was not for nothing she had herself caught the glamour of her friend’s international scheme.

      Jackson Lemon, to dissipate his chagrin, had returned to the sessions of the medical congress, where, inevitably, he had fallen into the hands of Sidney Feeder, who enjoyed in this disinterested assembly the highest esteem.  It was Dr. Feeder’s earnest desire that his old friend should share his credit—all the more easily that the medical congress was, as the young physician observed, a perpetual symposium.  Jackson entertained the entire body at dinner—entertained it profusely and in a manner befitting one of the patrons of science rather than the humbler votaries; but these dissipations made him forget but for the hour the arrest of his relations with the house of Canterville.  It punctually came back to him that he was disconcerted, and Dr. Feeder saw it stamped on his brow.  Jackson Lemon, with his acute inclination to open himself, was on the point more than once of taking this sturdy friend into his confidence.  His colleague gave him easy occasion—asked him what it was he was thinking of all the time and whether the young marchioness had concluded she couldn’t swallow a doctor.  These forms of speech were displeasing to our baffled aspirant, whose fastidiousness was nothing new; but he had even deeper reasons for saying to himself that in such complicated cases as his there was no assistance in the Sidney Feeders.  To understand his situation one must know the world, and the children of Cincinnati, prohibitively provincial, didn’t know the world—at least the world with which this son of New York was now concerned.

      “Is there a hitch in your marriage?  Just tell me that,” Sidney Feeder had said, taking things for granted in a manner that of itself testified to an innocence abysmal.  It is true he had added that he supposed he had no business to ask; but he had been anxious about it ever since hearing from Mr. and Mrs. Freer that the British aristocracy was down on the medical profession.  “Do they want you to give it up?  Is that what the hitch is about?  Don’t desert your colours, Jackson.  The suppression of pain, the mitigation of misery, constitute surely the noblest profession in the world.”

      “My dear fellow, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jackson could only observe in answer to this.  “I haven’t told any one I was going to be married—still less have I told any one that any one objects to my profession.  I should like to see any one do it.  I’ve rather got out of the swim, but I don’t regard myself as the sort of person that people object to.  And I do expect to do something yet.”

      “Come home, then, and do it.  And don’t crush me with grandeur if I say that the facilities for getting married are much greater over there.”

      “You don’t seem to have found them very great,” Jackson sniffed.

      “I’ve never had time really to go into them.  But wait till my next vacation and you’ll see.”

      “The facilities over there are too great.  Nothing’s worth while but what’s difficult,” said Jackson with a sententious ring that quite distressed his mate.

      “Well, they’ve got their backs up, I can see that.  I’m glad you like it.  Only if they despise your profession what will they say to that of your friends?  If they think you’re queer what would they think of me?” asked Sidney Feeder, whose spirit was not as a general thing in the least bitter, but who was pushed to this sharpness by a conviction that—in spite of declarations which seemed half an admission and half a denial—his friend was suffering worry, or really perhaps something almost like humiliation, for the sake of a good that might be gathered at home on every bush.

      “My dear fellow, all that’s ‘rot’!”  This had been Jackson’s retort, which expressed, however, not half his feeling.  The other half was inexpressible, or almost, springing as it did from his depth of displeasure at its having struck even so genial a mind as Sidney Feeder’s that in proposing to marry a daughter of the highest civilisation he was going out of his way—departing from his natural line.  Was he then so ignoble, so pledged to inferior things, that when he saw a girl who—putting aside the fact that she hadn’t genius, which was rare, and which, though he prized rarity, he didn’t want—seemed to him the most naturally and functionally founded and seated feminine subject he had known, he was to think himself too different, too incongruous, to mate with her?  He would mate with whom he “damn pleased”; that was the upshot of Jackson Lemon’s passion.  Several days elapsed during СКАЧАТЬ