The Complete Works. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ be thought of as partners in domestic economy. Alice had experienced the troubles of poverty, and had never met with excellence in men except in poems, which she had long ago been taught to separate from the possibilities of actual life. She had, therefore, no conception of any degree of merit in a husband being sufficient to compensate for slender means of subsistence. She was not base-minded; nothing could have induced her to marry a man, however rich, whom she thought wicked. She wanted money; but she wanted more than money; and here it was that she found supply failing to answer the demand. For not only were all the handsome, gallant, wellbred men getting deeply into debt by living beyond smaller incomes than that with which Wallace Parker had tempted her, but many of those who had inherited both riches and rank were as inferior to him, both in appearance and address, as they were in scholarship. No man, possessing both wealth and amiability, had yet shown the least disposition to fall in love with her.

      One bright forenoon in July, Alice, attended by a groom, went to the park on horseback. The Row looked its best. The freshness of morning was upon horses and riders; there were not yet any jaded people lolling supine in carriages, nor discontented spectators sitting in chairs to envy them. Alice, who was a better horsewoman than might have been expected from the little practice she had had, appeared to advantage in the saddle. She had just indulged in a brisk canter from the Corner to the Serpentine, when she saw a large white horse approaching with Wallace Parker on its back.

      “Ah!” he exclaimed, expertly wheeling his steed and taking off his hat at the same time with an intentional display of gallantry and horsemanship. “How are you, Alice?”

      “Goodness!” cried Alice, forgetting her manners in her astonishment. “What brings you here; and where on earth did you get that horse?”

      “I presume, Alice,” said Parker, satisfied with the impression he had made, “that I am here for much the same reason as you are — to enjoy the morning in proper style. As for Rozinante, I borrowed him. Is that chestnut yours? Excuse the rudeness of the question.”

      “No,” said Alice, coloring a little. “This seems such an unlikely place to meet you.”

      “Oh, no. I always take a turn in the season. But certainly it would have been a very unlikely place for us to meet a year ago.”

      So far, Alice felt, she was getting the worst of the conversation. She changed the subject. “Have you been to Wiltstoken since I last saw you?”

      “Yes. I go there once every week at least.”

      “Every week! Janet never told me.”

      Parker implied by a cunning air that he thought he knew the reason of that; but he said nothing. Alice, piqued, would not condescend to make inquiries. So he said, presently,

      “How is Miss Thingumbob?”

      “I do not know any one of that name.”

      “You know very well whom I mean. Your aristocratic patron, Miss Carew.”

      Alice flushed. “You are very impertinent, Wallace,” she said, grasping her riding-whip. “How dare you call Miss Carew my patron?”

      Wallace suddenly became solemn. “I did not know that you objected to be reminded of all you owe her,” he said. “Janet never speaks ungratefully of her, though she has done nothing for Janet.”

      “I have not spoken ungratefully,” protested Alice, almost in tears. “I feel sure that you are never tired of speaking ill of me to them at home.”

      “That shows how little you understand my real character. I always make excuses for you.”

      “Excuses for what? What have I done? What do you mean?”

      “Oh, I don’t mean anything, if you don’t. I thought from your beginning to defend yourself that you felt yourself to be in the wrong.”

      “I did not defend myself; and I won’t have you say so, Wallace.”

      “Always your obedient, humble servant,” he replied, with complacent irony.

      She pretended not to hear him, and whipped up her horse to a smart trot. The white steed being no trotter, Parker followed at a lumbering canter. Alice, possessed by a shamefaced fear that he was making her ridiculous, soon checked her speed; and the white horse subsided to a walk, marking its paces by deliberate bobs of its unfashionably long mane and tail.

      “I have something to tell you,” said Parker at last.

      Alice did not deign to reply.

      “I think it better to let you know at once,” he continued. “The fact is, I intend to marry Janet.”

      “Janet won’t,” said Alice, promptly, retorting first, and then reflecting on the intelligence, which surprised her more than it pleased her.

      Parker smiled conceitedly, and said, “I don’t think she will raise any difficulty if you give her to understand that it is all over between US.”

      “That what is all over?”

      “Well, if you prefer it, that there never has been anything between us. Janet believes that we were engaged. So did a good many other people until you went into high life.”

      “I cannot help what people thought.”

      “And they all know that I, at least, was ready to perform my part of the engagement honorably.”

      “Wallace,” she said, with a sudden change of tone; “I think we had better separate. It is not right for me to be riding about the park with you when I have nobody belonging to me here except a manservant.”

      “Just as you please,” he said, coolly, halting. “May I assure Janet that you wish her to marry me?”

      “Most certainly not. I do not wish anyone to marry you, much less my own sister. I am far inferior to Janet; and she deserves a much better husband than I do.”

      “I quite agree with you, though I don’t quite see what that has to do with it. As far as I understand you, you will neither marry me yourself — mind, I am quite willing to fulfil my engagement still — nor let any one else have me. Is that so?”

      “You may tell Janet,” said Alice, vigorously, her face glowing, “that if we — you and I — were condemned to live forever on a desert isl — No; I will write to her. That will be the best way. Good-morning.”

      Parker, hitherto imperturbable, now showed signs of alarm. “I beg, Alice,” he said, “that you will say nothing unfair to her of me. You cannot with truth say anything bad of me.”

      “Do you really care for Janet?” said Alice, wavering.

      “Of course,” he replied, indignantly. “Janet is a very superior girl.”

      “I have always said so,” said Alice, rather angry because some one else had forestalled her with the meritorious admission. “I will tell her the simple truth — that there has never been anything between us except what is between all cousins; and that there never could have been anything more on my part. I must go now. I don’t know what that man must think of me already.”

      “I should be sorry to lower you in his esteem,” said Parker, СКАЧАТЬ