mother- 第1部分

Mother



by　Owen　Wister












TO　MY　FAVOURITE　BROKER　WITH　THE　EARNEST　ASSURANCE　THAT　MR。　BEVERLY　IS　NOT

MEANT　FOR　HIM









NOTE



IN　1901；　this　story　appeared　anonymously　as　the　ninth　of　a　sequence　of

short　stories　by　various　authors；　in　a　volume　entitled　A　House　Party。　It

has　been　slightly　remodelled　for　separate　publication。



June　7；　1907；　OWEN　WISTER









MOTHER



When　handsome　young　Richard　Fieldhe　was　very　handsome　and　very　young

announced　to　our　assembled　company　that　if　his　turn　should　really　come　to

tell　us　a　story；　the　story　should　be　no　invention　of　his　fancy；　but　a

page　of　truth；　a　chapter　from　his　own　life；　in　which　himself　was　the　hero

and　a　lovely；　innocent　girl　was　the　heroine；　his　wife　at　once　looked

extremely　uncomfortable。　She　changed　the　reclining　position　in　which　she

had　been　leaning　back　in　her　chair；　and　she　sat　erect；　with　a　hand　closed

upon　each　arm　of　the　chair。



〃Richard；〃　she　said。　〃do　you　think　that　it　is　right　of　you　to　tell　any

one；　even　friends；　anything　that　you　have　never　yet　confessed　to　me？〃



〃Ethel；〃　replied　Richard；　〃although　I　cannot　promise　that　you　will　be

entirely　proud　of　my　conduct　when　you　have　heard　this　episode　of　my　past；

I　do　say　that　there　is　nothing　in　it　to　hurt　the　trust　you　have　placed　in

me　since　I　have　been　your　husband。　Only；〃　he　added；　〃I　hope　that　I　shall

not　have　to　tell　any　story　at　all。〃



〃Oh；　yes　you　will！〃　we　all　exclaimed　together；　and　the　men　looked　eager

while　the　women　sighed。



The　rest　of　us　were　much　older　than　Richard；　we　were　middle…aged；　in

fact；　and　human　nature　is　so　constructed；　that　when　it　is　at　the　age　when

making　love　keeps　it　busy；　it　does　not　care　so　much　to　listen　to　tales　of

others'　love…making；　but　the　more　it　recedes　from　that　period　of

exuberance；　and　ceases　to　have　love　adventures　of　its　own；　the　greater

become　its　hunger　and　thirst　to　hear　about　this　delicious　business　which

it　can　no　longer　personally　practice　with　the　fluency　of　yore。　It　was　for

this　reason　that　we　all　yearned　in　our　middle…aged　way　for　the　tale　of

love　which　we　expected　from　young　Richard。　He；　on　his　part；　repeated　the

hope　that　by　the　time　his　turn　to　tell　a　story　was　reached　we　should　be

tired　of　stories　and　prefer　to　spend　the　evening　at　the　card　tables　or　in

the　music　room。



We　were　a　house　party；　no　brief　〃week…end〃　affair；　but　a　gathering　whose

period　for　most　of　the　guests　covered　a　generous　and　leisurely　ten　days；

with　enough　departures　and　arrivals　to　give　that　variety　which　is

necessary　among　even　the　most　entertaining　and　agreeable　people。　Our

skilful　hostess　had　assembled　us　in　the　country；　beneath　a　roof　of　New

York　luxury；　a　luxury　which　has　come　in　these　later　days　to　be　so　much

more　than　princely。　By　day；　the　grounds　afforded　us　both　golf　and　tennis；

the　stables　provided　motor　cars　and　horses　to　ride　or　drive　over

admirable　roads；　through　beautiful　scenery　that　was　embellished　by　a

magnificent　autumn　season。　At　nightfall；　the　great　house　itself　received

us　in　the　arms　of　supreme　comfort；　fed　us　sumptuously；　and　after　dinner

ministered　to　our　middle…aged　bodies　with　chairs　and　sofas　of　the　highest

development。



The　plan　devised　by　our　hostess；　Mrs。　Davenport；　that　a　story　should　be

told　by　one　of　us　each　evening；　had　met　with　courtesy；　but　not　I　with

immediate　enthusiasm。　But　Mrs。　Davenport　had　chosen　her　guests　with　her

usual　wisdom；　and　after　the　first　experiment；　story　telling　proved　so

successful　that　none　of　us　would　have　readily　abandoned　it。　When　the　time

had　come　for　Richard　Field　to　entertain　the　company　with　the　promised

tale　from　his　life　experience；　his　hope　of　escaping　this　ordeal　had

altogether　vanished。



Mrs。　Field；　it　had　been　noticed　as　early　as　breakfast　time；　was　inclined

to　be　nervous　on　her　husband's　account。　Five　years　of　married　life　had

not　cured　her　of　this　amiable　symptom；　and　she　made　but　a　light　meal。　He；

on　the　other　hand；　ate　heartily　and　without　signs　of　disturbance。

Apparently　he　was　not　even　conscious　of　the　glances　that　his　wife　so

frequently　stole　at　him。



〃Do　at　least　have　some　omelet；　my　dear；〃　whispered　Mrs。　Davenport

urgently。　〃It's　quite　light。〃



But　Mrs。　Field　could　summon　no　appetite。



〃I　see　you　are　anxious　about　him；〃　Mrs。　Davenport　continued　after

breakfast。　〃You　are　surely　not　afraid　his　story　will　fail　to　interest

us？〃



〃No；　it　is　not　that。〃



〃It　can't　be　that　he　has　given　up　the　one　he　expected　to　tell　us　and　can

think　of　no　other？〃



〃Oh；　no；　he　is　going　to　tell　that　one。〃



〃And　you　don't　like　his　choice？〃



〃He　won't　tell　me　what　it　is！〃　Mrs。　Davenport　put　down　her　embroidery。

〃Then；　Ethel；〃　she　laid　with　severity；　〃the　fault　is　yours。　When　I　had

been　five　years　married；　Mr。　Davenport　confided　everything　to　me。〃



〃So　does　Richard。　Except　when　I　particularly　ask　him。〃



〃There　it　is；　Ethel。　You　let　him　see　that　you　want　to　know。〃



〃But　I　do　want　to　know。　Richard　has　had　such　interesting　experiences；　so

many　of　them。　And　I　do　so　want　him　to　tell　a　thoroughly　nice　one。　There's

the　one　when　he　saved　a　man　from　drowning　just　below　our　house；　the

second　summer；　and　the　man　turned　out　to　be　a　burglar　and　broke　into　the

pantry　that　very　night；　and　Richard　caught　him　in　the　dark　with　just　as

much　courage　as　he　had　caught　him　in　the　water　and　just　as　few　clothes；

only　it　was　so　different。　Richard　makes　it　quite　thrilling。　And　I

mentioned　another　to　him。　But　he　just　went　on　shaving。　And　now　he　has　gone

out　walking；　and　I　believe　it's　going　to　be　something　I　would　rather　not

hear。　But　I　mean　to　hear　it。〃



At　lunch　Mrs。　Field　made　a　better　meal；　although　it　was　clear　to　Mrs。

Davenport　that　Richard　on　returning　from　his　walk　had　still　kept　his

intentions　from　Ethel。　〃She　does　not　manage　him　in　the　least；〃　Mrs。

Davenport　declared　to　the　other　ladies；　as　Ethel　and　Richard　started　for

an　afternoon　drive　together。　〃She　will　not　know　anything　more　when　she

brings　him　back。〃



But　in　this　Mrs。　Davenport　did　wrong　to　Ethel's　resources。　The　young　wife

did　know　something　more　when　she　brought　her　husband　back　from　their

drive　through　the　pleasant　country。　They　returned　looking　like　an　engaged

couple；　rather　than　parents　whose　nursery　was　already　a　song　of　three

little　voices。



〃He　has　told　her；〃　thought　Mrs。　Davenport　at　the　first　sight　of　them；　as

they　entered　the　drawing…room　for　an　afternoon　tea。　〃She　does　understand

some　things。〃



And　when　after　dinner　the　ladies　had　withdrawn　to　the　library；　and　waited

for　the　men　to　finish　their　cigars；　Mrs。　Davenport　spoke　to　Ethel。　〃My

dear；　I　congratulate　you。　I　saw　it　at　once。〃



〃But　he　hasn't。　Richard　hasn't　told　me　anything。〃



〃Ethel！　Then　what　is　the　matter？〃



〃I　told　him　something。　I　told　him　that　if　it　was　going　to　be　any　story

aboutabout　something　I　shouldn't　like；　I　should　simply　follow　it　with　a

story　about　him　that　he　wouldn't　like。〃



〃Ethel！　You　darling！〃



〃Oh；　yes；　and　I　said　I　was　sure　you　would　all　listen；　even　though　I　was

not　an　author　myself。　And　I　have　it　ready；　you　know；　and　it's　awfully

like　Richard；　only　a　different　side　of　him　from　the　burglar　one。〃



〃But；　my　dear；　what　did　he　do　when　you〃



This　enquiry　was；　however；　cut　short　by　the　entrance　of　the　men。　And　from

the　glance　that　came　from　Richard's　eyes　as　they　immediately　sought　out

his　wife；　Mrs。　Davenport　knew　that　he　could　not　have　done　anything　very

severe　to　Ethel　when　she　made　that　threat　to　him　during　their　drive。



Richard　at　once　made　his　way　to　the　easy…chair　arranged　each　night　in　a

good　position　for　the　narrator　of　the　evening；　and　baptised　〃The

Singstool〃　by　Mr。　Graves。　Mr。　Graves　was　an　ardent　Wagnerian；　and

especially　devoted　to　The　Mastersingers　of　Nuremberg。



〃Shall　we　have；〃　he　whispered　to　Mr。　Hillard；　〃a　Beckmesser　fiasco

to…night；　or　will　it　be　a　Walter　success？〃



But　Mr。　Hillard；　besides　being　an　author　and　a　critic；　cared　little　for

the　too　literary　cleverness　of　Mr。　Graves。　He　therefore　heavily　crushed

that　gentleman's　allusion　to　Wagner's　opera。　〃I　remember；〃　he　said；　〃the

singing　contest　between　Beckmesser　and　Walter；　and　I　doubt　if　we　are　to

be　afflicted　with　anything　so　dull　in　this　house。〃



Richard　had　settled　himself　in　the　easy…chair；　and　was　looking

thoughtfully　at　various　objects　in　the　room；　while　the　small…talk　was

subsiding　around　him。



〃Why；　Mr。　Field；〃　said　Mrs。　Davenport；　〃you　look　as　if　you　could　find

nothing　to　suggest　your　story　to　you。〃



〃On　the　contrary；〃　said　Richard；　〃it　is　the　number　of　things　that　suggest

it。　This　newspaper　here；　that　has　arrived　since　I　was　last　in　the　room；

has　a　column　which　reminds　me　very　forcibly　of　the　experience　that　I　have

selected　to　tell　you。　But　I　think　the　most　appropriate　of　all　is　that

picture。〃　He　pointed　to　the　largest　picture　on　the　wall。　〃'Breaking　Home

Ties'　is　its　title；　I　remember　very　well。　It　is　a　replica　of　the　original

that　drew　such　crowds　in　the　Art　Building　at　the　World's　Fair。〃



While　Richard　was　saying　this；　his　wife　had　possessed　herself　of　the

newspaper；　and　he　now　observed　how　eagerly　she　was　scanning　its　pages。

〃It　is　the　financial　column；　Ethel；　that　recalls　my　story。〃



Ethel；　after　a　hopeless　glance　at　this；　resumed　her　seat　near　the　sofa　by

Mrs。　Davenport。



〃There　were　many　paintings；〃　continued　Richard；　〃in　that　Art　Building；　of

merit　incomparably　greater　than　'Breaking　Home　Ties'；　and　yet　the　crowd

never　looked　at　those；　because　it　did　not　understand　them。　But　at　any

hour　of　the　day；　if　you　happened　to　pass　this　picture；　it　took　you　some

time　to　do　so。　You　could　pass　any　of　John　Sargeant's　pictures；　for

instance；　at　a　speed　limited　only　by　your　own　powers　of　running；　but　you

could　never　run　past　'Breaking　Home　Ties。'　You　had　to　work　your　way

through　the　crowd　in　front　of　that　just　as　you　have　to　do　at　a