The French Lieutenant's Woman / Любовница французского лейтенанта. Джон Фаулз

not like them so close.”

      Mary obediently put them there.

      “Did he bring them himself?”

      “No, miss.”

      “Where is Mr. Charles?”

      “Doan know, miss. I didn' ask'un.” But her mouth was pressed too tightly together, as if she wanted to giggle.

      “But I heard you speak with the man.”

      “Yes, miss.”

      “What about?”

      “'Twas just the time o' day[83], miss.”

      “Is that what made you laugh?”

      “Yes, miss. 'Tis the way 'e speaks, miss.”

      Ernestina gave her a look very much like Mrs. Poulteney's.

      “You will kindly remember that he comes from London.”

      “Yes, miss.”

      “Mr. Smithson has already spoken to me of him. The man fancies himself a Don Juan[84].”

      “What's that then, Miss Tina?[85]”

      “Never mind now[86]. But if he makes advances[87] I wish to be told at once.”

      In London the beginnings of a social stratification had, by the mid-century, begun. Nothing of course took the place of good blood[88]; but it had become generally accepted that good money and good brains could help achieve high social standing[89]. Ernestina's grandfather had been a draper when he was young; but he died a very rich draper since he had moved commercially into central London, founded one of the West End's great stores and extended his business into many departments besides drapery. Her father had given her the best education that money could buy. In all except his origins he was a gentleman; and he had married a daughter of one of the City's most successful solicitors, who had good ancestors.

      Charles had first met her the preceding November, at the house of a lady who had her eye on him for one of her daughters. To both young people it had promised to be just one more dull evening; and both, when they returned to their homes, found that it had not been so.

      They saw in each other a superiority of intelligence. Ernestina let it be known that she had found Mr. Smithson an agreeable change from the dull crop of partners presented for her examination that season. Her mother made discreet inquiries; and consulted her husband, who made more. Charles passed his secret exam with flying colors[90].

      When he began to attend her mother's parties he had the unusual experience of finding that there was no sign of the usual matrimonial trap; no sly hints from the mother of how much the sweet darling loved children; or less sly ones from the father on the size of the fortune “my dearest girl” would bring to her husband. The latter were, in any case, unnecessary; the Hyde Park house was fit for a duke to live in, and the absence of brothers and sisters said more than a thousand bank statements[91].

      Ernestina played her hand well. She always invited other attractive young men; and did not do him any particular favour. She was, on principle, never serious with him: she gave him the impression that she liked him because he was fun – but of course she knew he would never marry. Then came an evening in January when she decided to plant the fatal seed[92].

      She saw Charles standing alone; and on the opposite side of the room she saw an aged widow. She went up to him.

      “Shall you not go converse with Lady Fairwether?”

      “I should rather converse with you.”

      “I will present you.”

      So they began to cross the room together; but halfway to the lady, she stopped, laid her hand a moment on his arm, and looked him in the eyes.

      “If you are determined to be an old bachelor, Mr. Smithson, you must practice for your part[93].”

      She had moved on before he could answer; but her eyes made it clear that she made an offer.

      What she did not know was that she had touched a sensitive place in Charles's soul; his feeling that life was passing him by, that he was being lazy, selfish… and worse. He had not traveled abroad those last two years; and he had realized that previously traveling had been a substitute for not having a wife. It allowed him to take an occasional woman into his bed, a pleasure he strictly forbade himself, perhaps remembering what his first test in that field had caused, in England.

      Traveling no longer attracted him; but women did, and he was therefore in a state of extreme sexual frustration. He passed a very thoughtful week. Then one morning he woke up.

      Everything had become simple. He loved Ernestina. He thought of the pleasure of waking up on just such a cold, gray morning, and seeing that sweet little face asleep beside him. A few minutes later he startled the sleepy Sam by saying: “Sam! I am an absolute one hundred per cent heaven forgive me damned fool[94]!”

      A day or two afterwards the fool had an interview with Ernestina's father. It was brief, and very satisfactory. He went down to the drawing room, where Ernestina's mother sat. Unable to speak to Charles, she pointed in the direction of the conservatory. Charles opened the white doors to it and stood in the hot, fragrant air. He had to search for Ernestina, but at last he found her in one of the farthest corners. She glanced at him, and then looked hastily down and away. She held a pair of silver scissors, and was pretending to snip off some of the dead blooms of the heavily scented plant. Charles stood close behind her; coughed.

      “I have come to bid my adieux. I have decided to leave England. For the rest of my life I shall travel. How else can an old bachelor spend his days?”

      He was ready to go on in this vein[95]. But then he saw that Ernestina's head was bowed and that her knuckles were drained white by the force with which she was gripping the table. He understood that it came from a deep emotion she felt for him.

      “But if I believed that someone cared for me to share…”

      He could not go on, for she had turned, her eyes full of tears. Their hands met, and he drew her to him. They did not kiss. They could not, for she burst into tears.

      A few minutes later Charles led Tina to the door back to the drawing room. But he stopped a moment at a plant of jasmine and picked a sprig and held it playfully over her head.

      “It isn't mistletoe[96], but it will do, will it not?”

      And so they kissed, with lips as asexual as children's. Ernestina began to cry again; then dried her eyes, and allowed Charles to lead her back into the drawing room, where her mother and father stood. No words were needed. Ernestina ran into her mother's opened arms. Meanwhile the two men stood smiling at each other; the one as if he had just concluded an excellent business deal, the other as if he was not quite sure which planet he had just landed on, but sincerely hoped the natives were friendly.

      12

      Charles walked for a mile or more through the woods of Ware Commons. Soon he was on the cart track[97] back to Lyme. Ahead moved the black figure of the girl; she walked not quickly, but with an even pace, like one used to covering long distances. Charles set out to catch up, and after a hundred yards or so he came close behind her. She must have heard the sound of his boots, but she did not turn. He noticed that the coat was a little too large for her, and that the heels of her shoes were mudstained. He hesitated only a moment, then:

      “Madam!”

      She

83

Просто спросил, который час

84

Он мнит себя Дон Жуаном

85

Ну и что из этого, мисс Тина?

86

Пока это не важно

87

Но если он будет заигрывать

88

Ничто, конечно, не могло заменить благородную кровь

89

высокое положение в обществе

90

с отличием сдал тайный экзамен

91

тысяча банковских счетов

92

посеять роковое зерно

93

Если вы определились с ролью старого холостяка, мистер Смитсон, вы должны в ней тренироваться

94

Я абсолютный, стопроцентный, прости Господи, последний дурак

95

Он был готов продолжать в том же духе

96

Омела – вечнозелёное растение, поцелуй под которым, по поверью, приносит вечную любовь.

97

просёлочная дорога