书城公版The Captives
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第39章

EXPECTATION

Maggie developed marvellously during her first weeks in London.It could not truthfully be said that her aunts gave her great opportunity for development; so far as they were concerned she might as well have been back in the green seclusion of St.Dreots.

It is true that she accompanied her Aunt Elizabeth upon several shopping expeditions, and on one hazardous afternoon they penetrated the tangled undergrowth of Harrods' Stores; on all these occasions Maggie was too deeply occupied with the personal safety and happiness of her aunt to have leisure for many observations.

Aunt Elizabeth always started upon her shopping expeditions with the conviction that something terrible was about to happen, and the expectation of this overwhelming catastrophe paralysed her nerves.

Maggie wondered how it could have been with her when she had ventured forth alone.She would stand in the middle of the street hesitating as to the right omnibus for her to take, she was often uncertain of the direction in which she should go.She would wave her umbrella at an omnibus, and then when it began to slacken in answer to her appeal, would discover that it was not the one that she needed, and would wave her umbrella furiously once more.Then when at last she had mounted the vehicle she would flood the conductor with a stream of little questions, darting her eyes angrily at all her neighbours as though they were gathered there together to murder her at the earliest opportunity.She would be desperately confused when asked to pay for her ticket, would be unable to find her purse, and then when she discovered it would scatter its contents upon the ground.In such an agony would she be at the threatened passing of her destination that she would spring up at every pause of the omnibus, striking her nearest neighbour's eye or nose with her umbrella, apologising nervously, and then, because she thought she had been too forward with a stranger, staring fiercely about her and daring any one to speak to her.Upon the day that she visited Harrods' she spent the greater part of her time in the lift because she always wished to be somewhere where she was not, and because it always went up when she wished it to go down and down when she wished it to go up.Maggie, upon this eventful occasion, did her best, but she also was bewildered, and wondered how any of the attendants found their way home at night.Before the end of the afternoon Aunt Elizabeth was not far from tears."It isn't cutlery we want.I told the man that it was saucepans.They pay us no attention at all.You aren't any help to me, Maggie." They arrived in a room filled with performing gramophones.This was the final blow.Aunt Elizabeth, trembling all over, refused either to advance or retreat."Will you please," said Maggie very firmly to a beautifully clothed young man with hair like a looking-glass, "show us the way to the street?" He very kindly showed them, and it was not until they were in the homeward omnibus that Aunt Elizabeth discovered that she had bought nothing at all.

Nevertheless, although Maggie collected but little interesting detail from these occasions, she did gather a fine general impression of whirling movement and adventure.One day she would plunge into it--meanwhile it was better that she should move slowly and assemble gradual impressions.The solid caution that was mingled in her nature with passionate feeling and enthusiasm taught her admirable wisdom.Aunt Anne, it seemed, never moved beyond the small radius of her home and the Chapel.She attended continually Bible-meetings, prayer-meetings, Chapel services.She had one or two intimate friends, a simple and devout old maid called Miss Pyncheon, Mr.Magnus, whom Maggie had seen on the day of her arrival, Mr.

Thurston, to whom Maggie had taken an instant dislike, and Amy Warlock.She visited these people and they visited her; for the rest she seemed to take no exercise, and her declared love for the country did not lead her into the Parks.She was more silent, if possible, than she had been at St.Dreots, and read to herself a great deal in the dark and melancholy drawing-room.Although she talked very little to Maggie, the girl fancied that her eye was always upon her.There was a strange attitude of watchfulness in her silent withdrawal from her scene as though she had retired simply because she could see the better from a distance.

She liked Maggie to read the Bible to her, and for an hour of every evening Maggie did this.For some reason the girl greatly disliked this hour and dreaded its approach.It was perhaps because it seemed to bring before her the figure of her father, the words as they fell from her lips seemed to be repeated by him as he stood behind her.