Newland sat at the desk in his library, and looked round at the room where most of the real things of his life had happened over the last thirty years. There his wife, nearly twenty-six years ago, had blushingly told him she was expecting a baby. There his elder son Dallas had taken his first steps towards him, shouting, 'Dad!' There his daughter Mary, who was so like her mother, had announced her engagement to the dullest of Reggie Chivers' sons. And there his great friend Theodore Roosevelt had told him, 'Forget about the professional politicians, Archer! It's men like you the country wants.'
Men like you' – how those words had impressed Newland! How eagerly he had answered the call! At last he had found something worthwhile to do, and he worked long hours in local government. After a while, however, he felt he had done what he could, and returned thankfully to a quieter life. He was admired and respected in New York; his days were full, and they were filled usefully. 'I suppose that's all a man should ask,' he thought.
Something he knew he had missed – the flower of life. But when he thought, so despairingly at first, of Ellen Olenska, over the years she became the picture of perfection, and that picture kept him from thinking of other women. He had been a good husband to May, and when she had suddenly died – carried off by the illness through which she had nursed their youngest child, Bill – he had honestly mourned her. Their long years together had shown him that it did not matter so much if marriage was a dull duty, as long as the couple always behaved in a responsible, dutiful way to each other. If they failed to do that, the marriage just became a battle of selfish interests. Thinking back over his life, he saw there was honour in his past, and he mourned for it. After all, there was good in the old ways.
His eyes rested on his first photograph of May, which still kept its place on his desk. There she was, just as he had seen her under the Florida orange trees. And she had remained the same – never quite as noble as on that day, but never far below – brave, generous, trusting, but with so little imagination that the world of her childhood had fallen into pieces and rebuilt itself without her noticing the changes. Her children protected her by hiding their modern opinions from her, as Newland hid his. And she died thinking the world a good place, full of happy, loving families like her own; she could bear to leave it because she trusted that, whatever happened, Newland would continue teaching Dallas to obey the same rules that he had been taught, and that Dallas (when Newland followed her) would do the same for little Bill. Of Mary she was as sure as of her own self. So, having saved little Bill from death, and given her life in the effort, she went happily to her place in the Archer family grave.
The telephone rang, and Newland answered it. How far they were from the days when a messenger boy was the fastest way of communicating!
Chicago wants you.'
Ah, it must be Dallas, who was there on business for his firm.
Hallo, Dad. Yes, Dallas here. I say – how do you feel about sailing to France on Wednesday on the Mauretania? I've got to be back in early June for my wedding' – the voice broke into a laugh – 'so we must hurry. I say, Dad, do come. Think it over? No, sir, not for a minute. If you can find a single reason why not – no, I knew you couldn't. Oh good! I knew you'd agree.'
It would be their last trip together, because in June Dallas was marrying Fanny Beaufort – she was Julius Beaufort's daughter by his second wife, Fanny ring, the mistress he had married after poor Regina died. It was tempting for Newland to take this last chance of being alone with his first-born son. And France! He had not been there since his honeymoon. May had disliked travelling, and preferred the conversation of friends and family to that of foreigners.
Since her death, nearly two years before, there had been no reason for Newland to continue in the same routine. But the worst of doing his duty was that it had made him unable to do anything else. There are moments, however, when a man's imagination suddenly rises above its daily level, and looks down over all the crossroads and turning points in the long road of life. Newland hung there and wondered...
Looking out of his hotel window at the streets of Paris in the spring sunshine, he felt his heart beating with a young man's confusion and eagerness. In the first impatient years he had often imagined the scene of his victorious return to Paris and Ellen, but now that he was here, he felt shy, old-fashioned, dull – just a grey shadow of a man compared with the brilliant figure he had dreamed of being...
Dallas's hand came down cheerfully on his shoulder. 'Hallo, Father, this is wonderful, isn't it?' They stood for a while, and then the young man continued, 'By the way, I've got a message for you: the Countess Olenska expects us both at half-past five.'
He spoke lightly, carelessly, but turning to look at him, Newland thought he could see a knowing smile in his eyes.
Didn't I tell you?' Dallas went on. 'Fanny made me promise to see Madame Olenska. She was awfully good to Fanny as a little girl, when Mr Beaufort sent Fanny over to France from Argentina. Fanny didn't have any friends, and Madame Olenska was very kind to her. So I telephoned today and asked to see her.'
Newland stared at him. 'You told her I was here?'
Of course – why not?' Dallas slipped his arm through his father's. 'I say, Father, what was she like? Confess – you and she were great friends, weren't you? Wasn't she awfully lovely?'
Lovely? I don't know about that. She was different.'
Ah – there you have it! She's different, and one doesn't know why. It's exactly what I feel about Fanny.'
His father looked shocked. 'But my dear boy – you and Fanny... that's quite a different situation...'
Oh Dad, don't be so old-fashioned! Wasn't she – once – your Fanny? I mean, the woman you'd have given up everything for, but you didn't.'
I didn't,' echoed Newland, frowning.
No, dear old boy, you didn't. But Mother said – she sent for me the day before she died, you remember? She said she knew we were safe with you, and always would be, because once, when she'd asked you to, you'd given up the thing you most wanted.'
Newland received this strange communication in silence. At last he said in a low voice: 'She never asked me.'
No, you never did ask each other anything, did you? You just sat and watched each other, and guessed at what was going on underneath. But I think you older people knew more about each other's private thoughts than we ever have time to find out about our own.'
It seemed to take an iron hand from Newland's heart to know that his wife had, after all, guessed and pitied. For a long time he looked out of the window, while the stream of life rolled by... 'I'm only fifty-seven!' he found himself thinking. Summer dreams were past, but surely it was not too late for a quiet autumn of friendship, with Ellen as his companion.
Together he and Dallas walked through the streets towards Madame Olenska's apartment, the son full of excited enthusiasm for Paris, the father busy with his thoughts.
More than half a lifetime divided him from Madame Olenska. She had lived in this ancient beautiful city, among people he did not know, in a rich atmosphere of theatres, and paintings, and books, and conversations he could only guess at. During all those years he had lived with his unchanging memory of her, but her memory of him might no longer be as bright as the flame he carried in his own heart.
They found the building, and looked up at the fifth floor to a balcony, and windows with pale green shutters, which were open.
I think I'll sit down for a moment,' said Newland, pointing to a bench under some trees in the square.
Why – aren't you well?' his son asked.
Perfectly well. But I'd like you to go up without me.'
But Dad, does that mean you won't come up at all?'
I don't know,' said Newland slowly.
But what shall I say?'
My dear boy, don't you always know what to say?'
Very well. I'll say you're old-fashioned, and prefer walking up the stairs because you don't like lifts.'
His father smiled. 'Just say I'm old-fashioned.'
Puzzled, Dallas shook his head and went inside.
Archer sat down on the bench, and continued to look up at the balcony and the windows with the pale green shutters. In his mind he could see Dallas entering the room with his rapid, light step, and a dark lady with a pale face, who would look up quickly and hold out a long thin hand with three rings on it.
It's more real to me here than if I went up,' he suddenly heard himself say, and the fear of losing that last shadow of reality kept him in his seat.
He sat for a long time on the bench in the thickening darkness, his eyes never turning from the windows. At last a lamp was lit inside the apartment, and a servant closed the shutters.
At that, Newland Archer stood up slowly and walked back alone to his hotel.
professional adj. relating to a job that needs special education and training 職業(yè)的
thankfully adv. feeling grateful and glad about something, especially because a difficult situation has ended or been avoided 感激地
despairingly adv. in a way showing a feeling that you have no hope at all 感到絕望地
perfection n. the state of being perfect 完美
mourn v. to feel very sad and to miss someone after they have died 哀悼
rebuild v. to build something again, after it has been damaged or destroyed 重建
communicate v. to exchange information or conversation with other people, using words, signs, writing etc 通訊
crossroads n. a place where two roads meet and cross each other 十字路口
victorious adj. having won a victory, or ending in a victory 勝利的
knowing adj. showing that you know all about something, even if it has not been discussed directly 會意的,心照不宣的
frown v. to make an angry, unhappy, or confused expression, moving your eyebrows together 皺眉
underneath adv. directly under another object or covered by it 在下面
enthusiasm n. a strong feeling of interest and enjoyment about something and an eagerness to be involved in it 熱情
shutter n. a wooden or metal cover for windows, to keep out the heat and light 百葉窗
紐蘭坐在圖書室的寫字臺前,環(huán)視這間屋子。過去三十多年來,他一生中大部分真實的事情都發(fā)生在這間圖書室。大約二十六年前,他的妻子在這里紅著臉告訴他她懷孕的消息。他的長子達拉斯在這里第一次向他蹣跚走來,喊著“爸爸!”長相酷似母親的女兒瑪麗在這里宣布與雷吉·奇弗斯最乏味的那個兒子訂婚。在這里,他偉大的朋友西奧多·羅斯福告訴他:“去他的職業(yè)政治家吧,阿徹!國家需要的是像你這樣的人才。”
“像你這樣的人——”這一席話曾經(jīng)讓紐蘭何等刻骨銘心!他曾經(jīng)何等熱情地響應召喚!最終,他找到了一些有意義的事情去做,并在當?shù)卣畽C構辛勤地工作。然而,一段時間過后,他感覺自己已經(jīng)竭盡所能,于是欣然隱退,重新過上較為平靜的生活。在紐約,他受人仰慕和尊重。他的日子過得很忙碌,也過得很充實。“我想,這就是一個人的全部追求。”他想。
他知道他遺失了一樣東西——生命之花。起初,他想到埃倫·奧蘭斯卡的時候心情非常絕望。然而這么多年來,她已經(jīng)成為完美的化身,使他不會去想別的女人。對梅來說,他一直是個好丈夫。他們最小的孩子比爾生病,她照顧他時突然染病而離世,他對她衷心哀悼。他們多年的共同生活已經(jīng)向他證明,只要婚姻雙方能夠一直做到對彼此盡責,即便是一種枯燥的責任也無關緊要。如果他們沒有做到,那么婚姻就會變成一場私利的斗爭。回首往事,他知道自己也曾有過榮耀的時刻,同時也為之痛心。畢竟,舊的方式也有好的一面。
他的目光停留在他得到的第一張梅的照片上,它依然占據(jù)著寫字臺上慣常的位置。照片上的她,正如當年他在佛羅里達的橘樹下見到的樣子。她始終如一,再也沒有像那天那樣高尚,但也沒有差很多——她勇敢、大度、容易信賴他人,但特別缺乏想象力。她兒時的那個世界已經(jīng)分崩離析并進行了重塑,她都絲毫沒有覺察。孩子們像紐蘭一樣向她隱瞞自己新潮的觀念,以此來保護她。她去世時依然認為人世間是個好地方,到處是像她自己家那樣幸福美滿的家庭。她能夠安心地離開人間,因為她相信,無論發(fā)生什么事,紐蘭都會向達拉斯繼續(xù)灌輸他自己曾被教導必須遵從的那些觀念,而達拉斯(當紐蘭隨她而去之后)也會將同樣的觀念教導給小比爾。至于瑪麗,她對她就像對自己那樣有把握。因此,從死亡的邊緣拯救回小比爾之后,她便撒手而去,心滿意足地到阿徹家的墓穴中就位。
電話鈴響了,紐蘭摘下電話。從前信差是最快的通訊方式,他們離那些日子多么遙遠了!
“芝加哥有人要和你通話。”
啊,一定是達拉斯,他被公司派往那里出差。
“嗨,爸爸。是的,我是達拉斯。我說——你覺得周三乘坐‘毛里塔尼亞’號去法國怎么樣?我得在六月初趕回來結婚呢。”話音突然變成笑聲——“所以我們得趕緊。我說,爸爸,一定要來啊??紤]一下?不,先生,一分鐘也不行。如果你能為不去找到一條理由——對了,我知道你不能。噢,太好了!我就知道你會同意的。”
這將是他們最后一次共同的旅行了,因為在六月份,達拉斯就將迎娶范妮·博福特——她是朱利葉斯·博福特和第二任妻子范妮·林所生的女兒??蓱z的雷吉娜去世之后,他就娶了之前的這位情人。對紐蘭來說,這是單獨跟長子一起相處的最后機會,頗具吸引力,而且是去法國!自從蜜月歸來之后,他就再未踏足那里。梅不喜歡旅行,與其和外國人說話,她寧愿和朋友家人交談。
她去世快兩年了,自那以后,紐蘭已經(jīng)沒有理由再繼續(xù)原來的那一套。但是,盡責的最壞后果就是,他沒有能力再去做其他事情了。然而,有時候,想象力會突然超越平日的水平,俯視人生漫長曲折的道路上所有的十字路口和轉(zhuǎn)折點。紐蘭呆坐在那里,思索著……
紐蘭從旅館窗口向外張望著春日照耀下的巴黎街頭,他感覺自己的內(nèi)心躁動著年輕人的困惑和渴望。在頭幾年焦躁不安的日子里,他常常會想象自己戰(zhàn)勝一切,重返巴黎,和埃倫在一起??扇缃袼娴膩淼竭@里,卻覺得自己畏縮、老派、乏味——與他曾經(jīng)夢想成為的光輝形象相比,他只是一個灰色的身影……
達拉斯高興地把手搭在他的肩頭,說:“嘿,爸爸,真是太棒了,不是嗎?”他們站了一會兒,接著年輕人又說:“對了,我有個口信要告訴你:奧蘭斯卡伯爵夫人五點半等著見我們。”
他說得很輕松,有些漫不經(jīng)心。紐蘭轉(zhuǎn)過身看著他,發(fā)現(xiàn)他眼神里有一絲會意的笑。
“我沒告訴過你嗎?”達拉斯繼續(xù)說,“范妮讓我保證一定要去看望奧蘭斯卡夫人。范妮還是個小姑娘的時候,博福特先生把她從阿根廷送來了法國,夫人對她特別好。那時,范妮一個朋友也沒有,奧蘭斯卡夫人對她很友善。所以今天我給她打了電話,說想去看她。”
紐蘭盯著他說:“你告訴她我也來了?”
“當然啦——為什么不呢?”達拉斯把胳膊塞到父親的胳膊里,“我說,爸爸,她長得什么樣?說實話吧——你和她過去是好朋友,對嗎?她是不是非??蓯??”
“可愛?我不知道。她是與眾不同。”
“啊——你說得對!她與眾不同,但又不知道為什么。這跟我對范妮的感覺完全相同。”
父親看上去非常驚訝。“可是,親愛的孩子——你和范妮……那完全是另一回事……”
“噢,爸爸,別這么迂腐了!她不是——曾經(jīng)——是你的范妮嗎?我是說,就是你愿為她拋棄一切的女人,只不過你沒那樣做。”
“我沒有那樣做。”紐蘭皺著眉頭重復道。
“是的,親愛的老男孩,你沒有那樣做。但媽媽說過——她去世的前一天把我叫過去,你還記得嗎?她說,她知道我們跟你在一起很安全,而且會永遠安全,因為有一次,當她要求你時,你放棄了最向往的東西。”
紐蘭默默地回味著這句奇怪的話。終于,他小聲說道:“她從來沒有要求過我什么。”
“對,你們倆從沒有相互要求過什么,對嗎?你們只是坐著互相觀察,猜測對方心里想些什么??晌矣X得,你們老一輩人了解對方心里的想法,比我們了解自己的想法還多。我們都沒有時間去了解自己。”
紐蘭的心頭仿佛卸下了沉重的鐵枷——妻子終究猜出了他的心事并表示了同情。他久久地望著窗外,生活的急流在身邊滾滾向前……“我才五十七歲!”他發(fā)覺自己在想。夏日的夢想已然過去,然而陪在埃倫身邊,享受寧靜秋日友誼的果實肯定還不算太遲。
他和達拉斯一起穿街走巷,朝奧蘭斯卡夫人的公寓走去。兒子對巴黎充滿了興奮、熱情,而父親則陷入了自己的思緒之中。
他與奧蘭斯卡夫人分開了大半生時間。她住在這座古老而美麗的城市里,生活在他不認識的人們中間。這里到處都是劇院、畫作、書籍,還有那些他只能去猜測其內(nèi)容的談話。這些年里,他對她一直懷著不變的記憶,而她對他的記憶也許不再像他深藏內(nèi)心的激情那樣鮮明了。
他們找到了那個大樓,抬頭望向五樓,那里有一個陽臺,窗戶上的淺綠色百葉窗正開著。
“我想我要坐一會兒。”紐蘭說,手指著廣場樹下的一張長凳。
“怎么了——你不舒服嗎?”兒子問道。
“我好得很。不過,我想讓你一個人上去。”
“可是,爸爸,你是不是壓根兒就不打算上去呢?”
“我不知道。”紐蘭緩緩地說。
“可我要怎么說呢?”
“親愛的孩子,你不是總知道該說什么嗎?”
“好吧。我就說你守舊,不喜歡坐電梯,寧愿自己爬樓梯。”
父親笑著說:“說我守舊就夠了。”
達拉斯一臉困惑地搖搖頭,走了進去。
阿徹坐到長凳上,繼續(xù)抬頭望著那個陽臺和開著淺綠色百葉窗的窗戶。他可以想象達拉斯邁著輕快的步伐走進房間,一位膚色較深、面孔白皙的夫人迅速抬起頭來,伸出一只瘦長的手,上面戴著三枚戒指。
“對我來說,呆在這兒比上去更真實。”他突然聽到自己在說。由于害怕失去最后那個真實的影子,他一直呆在座位上沒有動。
暮色漸濃,紐蘭在長凳上坐了許久,目光始終沒有離開過窗戶。終于,公寓里點起了一盞燈,用人關上了百葉窗。
這時,紐蘭·阿徹慢慢站起身來,一個人朝旅館的方向走了回去。