Chapter 7 seven

If it weren't for sheer kindness, I don't know why the Driffields care so much about me.I was a slow-witted kid then, not much of a talker; if I had anything to make Ted T.Driffield found it amusing, and it must have been unconscious.Maybe he finds my superiority amused.I thought I had dropped my airs to associate with Miss Wolfe's housekeeper's son, who was what my uncle called a cheap man of letters.Once, perhaps with a hint of arrogance, I asked him to borrow a book he had written, and he said I wouldn't be interested.I believed he was telling the truth, so I stopped insisting.Ever since my uncle had allowed me to go out with the Driffields, he had had no objection to my association with them.Sometimes we went on a boat trip together; sometimes we went to some picturesque place and Driffield did some watercolors.I don't know if the weather in England was better then, or if it was just a teenage hallucination, but I seem to remember that the whole summer of that year was sunny day after day without a break.I began to develop a strange attachment to this hilly, productive, and scenic region.We rode long distances from church to church to copy the inscriptions, some of knights in armor, others of ladies in stiff skirts stretched with whalebone hoops.Ted.Driffield's enthusiasm for this innocent hobby infected me, and I worked up it passionately.I proudly showed my uncle the fruits of such labor; and I suppose he thought that, whoever my company might be, I should be in no harm so long as I kept busy in the church.Mrs. Driffield was always in the churchyard when we were copying.She neither read nor sewed, but loitered in the yard.She seemed capable of doing nothing for long periods of time without ever feeling bored.Sometimes I go out into the yard and sit with her on the grass for a while.We gossiped about my school, my friends at school, my teachers, people in Blacktown, sometimes nothing at all.She called me Mr Ashenden, and I was glad.Presumably she was the first person to call me that and it made me feel grown up.I resent being called Master Willie.I think it's a ridiculous title for anyone.I actually don't like my first or last name; I spend a lot of time trying to come up with something else that would suit me better.My favorite name is Roderick.Ravensworth.I have filled many sheets of paper with the signature of this name, with a forceful hand to match.I think Ludovic.Montgomery is also a good name.

I never forgot what Marianne told me about Mrs. Driffield.Although in theory I knew what marriage was like and could describe it without obtrusiveness, I didn't really understand it.I find this fact rather disgusting, and I don't quite believe it.Just say the earth, I know the earth is round, but I also know that it is actually flat.Mrs. Driffield looked so frank, her laugh was so bright and innocent, her manner seemed so youthful and innocent, that I could not imagine her going with sailors, especially with such a vulgar and obnoxious one as Lord George. mixed together.She's nothing like the bad women I've seen in novels.Of course I knew she wasn't very well-behaved, she spoke with a Blacktown accent, often dropped the initial h, and sometimes she surprised me with grammatical mistakes, but nevertheless, I Can't help liking her.I concluded that what Marianne had told me was nonsense.

One day I happened to mention to her that Marian was our cook. She said she used to live next door to yours in Rye Lane.I added, fully expecting Mrs. Driffield to say that she had never heard of Marianne. But she actually smiled at my words, and her blue eyes sparkled. Yes.She used to take me to Sunday school.She also often took pains to ask me not to speak.I hear she's gone to work at the Vicarage.Can't believe she's still there!I haven't seen her for many years.I would love to meet her and talk to her about the old days.Say hello to her for me, please?Invite her to come to me some evening when she is free, and I invite her to tea.

What she said made me dumbfounded.At any rate, the Driffields now lived in a house and were talking about buying it, and they had a handyman.It would be very unseemly for them to ask Marianne to tea, and it would embarrass me.They seem to know nothing about what can be done and what cannot be done at all.It always made me uncomfortable that they talked about things from their past lives in my presence; things I thought they wouldn't dream of.I did not know that those around me were vain in order to appear richer or grander than they really were, and looking back I feel that their lives were indeed full of falsehoods.They live behind a mask of decency.You never see them in their shirts, with their feet on the table.The dignified women don't show up until the afternoon in their afternoon clothes; they live such a prudent and frugal life in private that you can't just visit them for a casual meal, and when they formally entertain guests Sometimes, the dinner table is always full of dishes.Even if any disaster happened to one of their families, they always held their heads high and seemed indifferent.If one of their sons married an actress, they never said anything about the bad luck.Although the neighbors in the neighborhood talked behind their backs that the marriage was embarrassing, they were very careful not to mention even the theater in front of those who were troubled by the marriage.We all knew that the wife of Major Greencourt, who bought Three Gables, had some connections in the business world, but neither she nor the Major had ever revealed an inglorious secret.We laughed at them behind their backs, but in their presence we were polite, not even mentioning the crockery (which was the source of Mrs Greencourt's good income).We also often hear of an angry father disinheriting his son, or telling his daughter (who, like my mother, married a lawyer) never set foot in the house.I've grown used to all this sort of thing, taking it for granted.So I heard Ted.I was indeed taken aback when Driffield mentioned, as if it were the most common thing in the world, that he had been a waiter in a restaurant in Holborn Street.I know he used to run away from home and go off to sea as a sailor, which was very romantic; at least I've seen that in many novels of boys who, after many thrilling adventures, end up marrying a man with a lot of money. Earl's daughter.But Ted.Not so Driffield, who later drove a cab at Maidstone and worked as a conductor at a Birmingham box office.Once, as we rode past the Railway Emblem, Mrs. Driffield mentioned, rather casually, that she had worked there for three years, as if that was a job anyone could have.

That's where I worked my first job, she said, and then I went to the Feather Hotel in Haversham, and I didn't leave there until I got married. She laughed, as if it pleased her to think about it.I didn't know what to say or which way to look, and my face was flushed red.Another time, when we came back from a long ride through Fern Bay, and it was hot and we were all three thirsty, Mrs. Driffield suggested that we go to the Dolphin Hotel for a beer.She was talking to the girl behind the counter in the store, and I was flabbergasted when she told the girl that she too had been doing the job for five years.The owner came over to greet us, Ted.Driffield bought him a drink.Mrs. Driffield said that the waitress should also be offered a glass of claret.Then they chatted amicably, about the liquor business, about the franchise hotels that specialize in certain brands of liquor, and about the rising prices.At this moment, I stood aside, my body was hot and cold, I didn't know what to do.Mrs. Driffield said as we were leaving the hotel:

Ted, I like that girl very much.She should be doing pretty well.I told her just now that this job is hard work, but it's also fun.You can really see a little bit of the world.If you're smart, you should be able to find a good husband.I saw she had an engagement ring on her finger, but she said she put it on on purpose for the guys to tease her. Driffield laughed.His wife turned to me and said: When I was a waitress, I was really happy, but of course you can't last forever, you have to think about your future. But what shocked me even more was yet to come.September is already halfway through, and my summer vacation is coming to an end.My mind was full of the Driffields, but my uncle scolded me whenever I tried to talk about them at home.

We don't want to go on hearing about your friends all day long, he said, there are more appropriate topics than them.But since Ted.Driffield was born in this parish, and seeing you almost every day, I think he ought to go to church sometimes. I told Driffield one day: My uncle wants you to go to church. All right.We're going to church next Sunday night, Rosie. I am casual.she says. I told Marianne about their going to church.I sat in the vicarage's seat behind the squire's and could not look around, but I knew from the manner of my neighbors across the aisle that they were coming.As soon as I got a chance the next day, I asked Marianne if she had seen them.

I saw her.Marianne said with a straight face. Did you talk to her afterwards? I?She suddenly became angry, you get out of the kitchen for me, why do you come to trouble me all day long?You keep getting in the way here, how can I work? Well, I say, don't get mad. I really don't understand how your uncle can let you run around with people like them.Her hat is covered with flowers.I really wonder how she still has the face to face people.Come on, I'm busy. I don't know why Marianne has such a bad temper.I did not mention Mrs. Driffield to her again.But two or three days later, I happened to go to the kitchen to get something I wanted.There are two kitchens in the parsonage: a small one for cooking and a large kitchen, probably built at a certain period because of the large population of the pastor's family in the country, and at the same time, it was built for holding grand banquets to entertain nearby elites.Marianne used to sit and sew in the big kitchen after her day's work.We always had a cold meal for supper at eight o'clock, so after tea in the afternoon she was all right.It was almost seven o'clock, and it was getting dark.This evening it was Emily's turn to go out, and I thought Marianne was alone in the kitchen, but I heard talking and laughing in the passage.I guess someone came to see Marianne.There was a light in the kitchen, but it had a thick green shade over it, so it was rather dark inside.I saw teapots and cups on the table.Marianne was apparently having an evening cup of tea with her friend.As I opened the door and went in, the conversation in the room stopped, and then I heard a voice.

Good evening. I was taken aback when Marianne's guest was Mrs. Driffield.Marianne smiled slightly when she saw my surprised expression. Rossi.Gunn came and had a cup of tea with me.she says. We are talking about the past. Marianne was a little embarrassed to see me discovering she was receiving Rosie, but I was even more embarrassed.Mrs. Driffield gave me her childish mischievous smile again; she seemed perfectly at ease.For some reason, I noticed what she was wearing, probably because I'd never seen her so gorgeously dressed.Her dress was light blue, tightly fitted at the waist, with large sleeves, and a long skirt with ruffles at the bottom.She was wearing a big black straw hat with a bunch of roses and green leaves and a bow on it.Apparently it was the same hat she wore to church on Sunday.

I think if I keep waiting for Marianne to come and see me, it's probably going to be the end of the world.So it would be best for me to come and see her myself. Marianne grinned sheepishly, but she didn't look unhappy.I asked her what I needed at the time and then hurried out of the kitchen.I went out into the garden and wandered aimlessly.I went forward to the road and looked out the gate.Night has fallen.Soon I saw a man approaching without haste.I didn't pay attention to him at first, but he kept pacing up and down the road outside, as if waiting for someone.At first I thought it might be Ted.Driffield.I was about to run out to say hello when he stopped and lit his pipe.I saw that it was Lord George.I wondered what he was doing here, when it occurred to me that he was waiting for Mrs. Driffield.My heart was pounding.Although I was in the dark, I retreated into the shadow of the bushes.I waited a few more minutes before I saw the side door open, and Mrs Driffield was shown out to Marianne.I heard her footsteps on the gravel.She went to the gate and opened it.There is a click when opening the door.Lord George crossed the road at the sound of the door, and slipped in before Mrs Driffield had time to step through the gate.He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.She chuckled under her breath.

Watch out for my hat.she whispered. I was only three feet away from them, and I was terrified of being discovered.I'm so ashamed of them.I was shaking with excitement.He held her for a while. How about right here in the garden?he also asked in a low voice. No, the child is here.Let's go to the fields. Lord George put his arm around Mrs Driffield's waist, and together they went out of the gate and disappeared into the night.At this time, I felt my heart was beating so hard that I could hardly breathe.I was so astonished by what I had just seen that I could not think calmly about it, and if I could tell anyone about it, I would do whatever I wanted, but it was a secret I had to keep.I'm thrilled with the importance I've gained from holding this secret.I walked back slowly, and entered our house by the side door.Marianne started calling me when she heard the door open. Is that you, Master Willie? it's me. I glanced into the kitchen.Marianne was putting supper on a tray to carry into the dining-room. I don't want to tell your uncle Rosie.Gann's coming here.she says. Oh, it goes without saying. I didn't think of it at all.I heard a knock at the side door, and when I opened it, it was Rosie standing there, which really surprised me.Marianne.she said.Before I could figure out what she was doing, she kept kissing me on the face.I had to ask her in; and when she came in, I had to buy her a cup of tea. Marianne was eager to explain to me.For she had said so many bad things about Mrs. Driffield to me before, and I must think it strange to see them sitting together talking and laughing.But I don't want to put on a smug air in front of her. She's not that bad, is she?I said. Marianne smiled.Despite her cavities, she still had a sweet smile. I can't tell exactly what it was, but there was something about her that you had to like her.She sat here for almost an hour, and to be fair she wasn't putting on airs at all.She told me herself that the material of the dress she was wearing cost thirteen pounds and eleven shillings a yard, and I took her word for it.She remembers everything, how I combed her hair when she was a little baby, how I told her to wash her little hands before tea.You know, in those days her mother would send her over to our house for tea sometimes.She was beautiful then. Marianne reflected on the past with a brooding look on her queer wrinkled face. Oh, she said after a pause, maybe she's no worse than a lot of the others, if we knew what they were.She is more tempted than most.Many people who made irresponsible remarks about her would not be much better than her if they had the opportunity.