The Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (33 Works in One Edition). Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

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СКАЧАТЬ into Tunbridge Wells this afternoon. Unless, therefore, I hear from you to the contrary, I shall (D.V.) present myself at your house at 3 p.m."

      "What can he want to see me about?" exclaimed Mary, the truth occurring to her only to be chased away as a piece of egregious vanity. It was more reasonable to suppose that Mr. Dryland had on hand some charitable scheme in which he desired her to take part.

      "Anyhow," she thought philosophically, "I suppose I shall know when he comes."

      At one and the same moment the church clock struck three, and Mr. Dryland rang the Clibborns' bell.

      He came into the dining-room in his best coat, his honest red face shining with soap, and with a consciousness that he was about to perform an heroic deed.

      "This is kind of you, Miss Clibborn! Do you know, I feared the servant was going to say you were 'not at home.'"

      "Oh, I never let her say that when I'm in. Mamma doesn't think it wrong, but one can't deny that it's an untruth."

      "What a beautiful character you have!" cried the curate, with enthusiasm.

      "I'm afraid I haven't really; but I like to be truthful."

      "Were you surprised to receive my letter?"

      "I'm afraid I didn't understand it."

      "I was under the impression that I expressed myself with considerable perspicacity," remarked the curate, with a genial smile.

      "I don't pretend to be clever."

      "Oh, but you are, Miss Clibborn. There's no denying it."

      "I wish I thought so."

      "You're so modest. I have always thought that your mental powers were very considerable indeed. I can assure you it has been a great blessing to me to find someone here who was capable of taking an intelligent interest in Art and Literature. In these little country places one misses intellectual society so much."

      "I'm not ashamed to say that I've learnt a lot from you, Mr. Dryland."

      "No, that is impossible. All I lay claim to is that I was fortunate enough to be able to lend you the works of Ruskin and Marie Corelli."

      "That reminds me that I must return you the 'Master Christian.'"

      "Please don't hurry over it. I think it's a book worth pondering over; quite unlike the average trashy novel."

      "I haven't had much time for reading lately."

      "Ah, Miss Clibborn, I understand! I'm afraid you've been very much upset. I wanted to tell you how sorry I was; but I felt it would be perhaps indelicate."

      "It is very kind of you to think of me."

      "Besides, I must confess that I cannot bring myself to be very sorry. It's an ill wind that blows nobody good."

      "I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, Mr. Dryland."

      "Miss Clibborn, I have come here to-day to converse with you on a matter which I venture to think of some importance. At least, it is to me. I will not beat about the bush. In these matters it is always best, I believe, to come straight to the point." The curate cleared his throat, and assumed his best clerical manner. "Miss Clibborn, I have the honour to solemnly ask you for your hand."

      "Oh!"

      Mary blushed scarlet, and her heart went pit-a-pat in the most alarming fashion.

      "I think I should tell you that I am thirty-three years of age. I have some private means, small, but sufficient, with my income and economy, to support a wife. My father was for over a quarter of a century vicar of Easterham."

      Mary by this time had recovered herself.

      "I feel very much honoured by your proposal, Mr. Dryland. And no one can be more convinced than I of my unworthiness. But I'm afraid I must refuse."

      "I don't press for an immediate answer, Miss Clibborn. I know at first blush it must surprise you that I should come forward with an offer so soon after the rupture of your engagement with Captain Parsons. But if you examine the matter closely, you will see that it is less surprising than it seems. While you were engaged to Captain Parsons it was my duty to stifle my feelings; but now I cannot. Indeed, I have not the right to conceal from you that for a long time they have been of the tenderest description."

      "I feel very much flattered."

      "Not at all," reassuringly answered Mr. Dryland. "I can honestly say that you are deserving of the very highest—er—admiration and esteem. Miss Clibborn, I have loved you in secret almost ever since I came to the parish. The moment I saw you I felt an affinity between us. Our tastes are so similar; we both understand Art and Literature. When you played to me the divine melodies of Mendelssohn, when I read to you the melodious verses of Lord Tennyson, I felt that my happiness in life would be a union with you."

      "I'm afraid I can never be unfaithful to my old love."

      "Perhaps I'm a little previous?"

      "No; time can make no possible difference. I'm very grateful to you."

      "You have no need to be. I have always tried to do my duty, and while you were engaged to another, I allowed not even a sigh to escape my lips. But now I venture to think that the circumstances are altered. I know I am not a gallant officer, I have done no doughty deeds, and the Victoria Cross does not adorn my bosom. I am comparatively poor; but I can offer an honest heart and a very sincere and respectful love. Oh, Miss Clibborn, cannot you give me hope that as time wears on you will be able to look upon my suit with favour?"

      "I'm afraid my answer must be final."

      "I hope to be soon appointed to a living, and I looked forward ardently to the life of usefulness and of Christian fellowship which we might have lived together. You are an angel of mercy, Miss Clibborn. I cannot help thinking that you are eminently suitable for the position which I make so bold as to offer you."

      "I won't deny that nothing could attract me more than to be the wife of a clergyman. One has such influence for good, such power of improving one's fellow-men. But I love Captain Parsons. Even if he has ceased to care for me, I could never look upon him with other feelings."

      "Even though it touches me to the quick, Miss. Clibborn," said the curate, earnestly, "I respect and admire you for your sentiments. You are wonderful. I wonder if you'd allow me to make a little confession?" The curate hesitated and reddened. "The fact is, I have written a few verses comparing you to Penelope, which, if you will allow me, I should very much like to send you."

      "I should like to see them very much," said Mary, blushing a little and smiling.

      "Of course, I'm not a poet, I'm too busy for that; but they are the outpouring of an honest, loving heart."

      "I'm sure," said Mary, encouragingly, "that it's better to be sincere and upright than to be the greatest poet in the world."

      "It's very kind of you to say so. I should like to ask one question, Miss Clibborn. Have you any objection to me personally?"

      "Oh, no!" cried Mary. "How can you suggest such a thing? I have the highest respect and esteem СКАЧАТЬ