Chapter 13 Chapter Twelve

The analysis of people she came across was a very interesting fascination for Miss Ley, and she had no relatives or friends to prevent her from developing it.She watched Bertha and Edward silently as they ate lunch.Bertha kept throwing up the subject of Mrs. Branderton's new bonnet and new haircut, and of Miss Glover's benevolence and Mr. Glover's visit to London.Her talkativeness seemed suspicious.Edward remained silent, occasionally persuading Miss Ley to eat more.He was a big eater, and the unmarried lady noticed that he ate and drank heavily.Of course she had a conclusion in mind.After he'd wiped out half a pound of cheese and all the beer, he pushed back his chair with a belching reminiscence of a beast contented after a meal.At this point Miss Ley came to a further conclusion.

Edward said, "Well, I think I should get to work. A tired man has no rest." He took a birch pipe from his pocket, loaded it, and lit it. "I feel better now. Well, good-bye, I'm going to have some tea." Conclusions buzzed around Miss Ley like summer gnats.She had reached that conclusion in the afternoon, but had further corroboration at supper.Bertha, too, was open and undisguised, in a very different way than usual.Miss Ley asked herself many times: were these light conversations and bursts of laughter the result of lightheartedness, or of a cheap reason--to deceive her middle-aged and demanding aunt?After dinner Edward told Miss Ley that he considered her a member of his family and that he hoped she would allow him to be informal, and began to read the paper.Bertha played the piano at Miss Ley's request, and he politely put the newspaper aside, but yawned countless times in less than fifteen minutes.

Bertha said, "I can't play any more, Eddie's going to sleep. Darling, isn't it?" He smiled and replied, "It is. In fact, since we got married, Bertha's playing these things has always made me feel depressed." "I would only listen to Edward if he played 'The Bluebells of Scotland' or 'Yankee Doodle'." Bertha smiled tenderly and said these words to her husband, and Miss Ley concluded again in her mind. "I don't mind admitting I can't take this foreign music. What I said to Bertha was, why can't you play something British?"

His wife interjected: "If you have to let me play, I will." "In short, there is a tune in 'The Bluebells of Scotland' that one cannot help but fall into." Bertha played a few "Rule, Britannia!" ", and said: "Look, there are a few different tunes, but my nerves will tense up." Edward retorted: "Well, I'm patriotic. I like the honesty of English folk. I like them because they belong to England. Don't be afraid of your jokes. For me, the best song written is "God Save the Queen." " Miss Ley added with a smile: "My dear Edward, the composer is a German."

Edward was unimpressed: "Even if it's written by a German, the feeling is British. That's all I care about." "Listen! Listen!" cried Bertha. "I believe Edward has ambitions for a political career. I know I shall be the wife of the local House of Commons." "I'm patriotic and I'm not ashamed to admit it," Edward said. Bertha said: "Rule, Britannia. England rules the seas, and the Englishman will never, never be a slave. Ta-la-la-boom-de-e! Ta-la-la-boom-de- Ah!" The orator went on to rave: "It's the same everywhere now. Our country is full of foreigners and foreign stuff. I think it's shameful. British music isn't good enough for you, so get some from Germany and France Come here. Where's your butter from? Brittany! Where's your meat from? New Zealand!" His tone was contemptuous, and Bertha struck out some loud choruses for emphasis. "As far as butter goes, it's not cream at all - it's margarine. Where does your bread come from? America. Your vegetables come from Jersey."

Bertha immediately interjected: "Your fish come from the ocean." "It's happening everywhere and farmers in the UK haven't had a single chance." Bertha played an accompaniment derisively as he spoke.If it were a slightly sensitive person, he would definitely be annoyed, but Edward just smiled good-naturedly. "Bertha doesn't take these things seriously," he said, reaching out his hand lovingly to Bertha's hair. She suddenly stopped playing.His good temper, combined with his caressing gesture, filled her eyes with tears of regret. She trembled: "You are so kind, but I hate it."

"Don't say such things in front of Aunt Polly. She's sure to laugh at us." Bertha smiled happily: "I don't care." She stood up and took his arm, "Eddie has the best temper in the world, he is so perfect." Miss Ley said: "He deserves it. You have such confidence in him after six months of marriage." The old maid had amassed so many observations, so many impressions, that she felt an urgent need to go back to her bedroom to sort them out.She kissed Bertha, then held out her hand to Edward. "Oh, if you kissed Bertha, you must kiss me too." Edward smiled and bent over.

"Oh!" Miss Ley was startled, but he was obviously not joking, so she touched his cheek.Just like that, her face blushed. The conclusion of Miss Ley's investigation is that the road of marriage is still not paved with flowers.As she rested her head on the pillow, a thought flashed across her mind: Dr. Ramsay must come and brag about his wisdom.It's not in a man's nature, she thought, to miss an opportunity to show his strength in front of a vanquished foe. "He will certainly spread the word that I am the person directly involved in this marriage. The good man will be delighted by my embarrassment, and there will certainly be plenty of sarcasm to be heard in the future. He will definitely come to visit tomorrow. "

Indeed, the news of Miss Ley's return, assiduously publicized by Edward, was now widely known.Mrs. Ramsay hastily put on her blue velvet parlor gown, and together with Dr. Ramsay rode in a carriage to Rye Hall.On arrival, Dr. Ramsay found that Miss Glover and the Vicar of Leanham had already arrived.Compared with the last meeting, Miss Ley found that Mr. Glover had lost a lot of weight and looked sluggish.Miss Glover remained the same. The vicar answered Miss Ley's polite greetings: "Parish? I'm afraid it's getting worse. You know, the Nonconformists have built a new church. They say the Salvation Army is getting ready to build barracks--that's what they call it." .It is even more regrettable that the government is doing nothing about it. After all, we were created by the law, and the law has an obligation to protect us from violation.”

Miss Ley asked, "Don't you advocate freedom of belief?" The pastor replied in a weary voice: "Dear Miss Ley, there is a limit to everything. In my opinion, the Church of England has given anyone enough freedom of belief." Miss Glover went on: "Things are going badly in Leonham. Especially with all the businessmen now going to the new churches, it's hard for us to do anything." The pastor sighed wearily again: "Yeah. As if the situation wasn't bad enough for us to bear, I heard again that Walker won't come to our church." "Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" sighed Miss Glover.

Edward asked, "Walker? The baker?" "Yes, the only baker in Leanham who still comes to our church is Andrews." Miss Glover said: "Oh, Charles, we can't buy his bread. His bread is really unpalatable." Her brother muttered, "Honey, we've got to do it. It's against my principles to do business with people who go to new churches. You've got to tell Walker to return the books unless he promises to come to church regularly." "But Andrews' bread always gives you indigestion, Charles," cried Miss Glover. "I have to live with it. As long as the pain is bearable, we have no reason to complain." Mrs. Ramsay, very practical, said: "Well, it's easy enough to go to Tercanbury and get some bread." Both the Glover siblings raised their hands in frustration. "In that case, Andrews will go to the new church too. Their only purpose or only hope of going to church is to keep the pastor frequented." Miss Ley found that she and the vicar's sister were left now. "Miss Ley, you must be glad to see Bertha again." She thought to herself: Now she's ready to show off their victory.So he said out loud, "Of course I am very happy." "They are so happy now, you must be very relieved to see them." Miss Ley gave her a sharp look, but found no irony in it. "Oh, I think it's wonderful to see a couple in bliss. I'm more satisfied with myself when I come back and see how much they respect and love each other." Miss Ley thought: The poor fellow is evidently a complete fool."Yes, very satisfying," she said dryly. She looked around for Dr. Ramsay.Despite her disadvantage, she still looks forward to the expected debate soon.She has a fighting blood in her blood, and even when failure is inevitable, she will never run away from it.The doctor came over. "Oh, Miss Ley, you are among us again. We are all very glad to see you." Miss Ley thought sullenly: These people are too warm.Dr. Ramsay's words, she thought, were merely warm-ups for crude taunts or reproaches. "How about we go for a walk in the garden? I'm sure you're ready to argue with me." "Nothing better. I mean a walk in the garden. Of course, no one would want to argue with a charming lady like you." Miss Ley thought again: If he hadn't been prepared to launch a rude verbal attack later, he would never be so polite now.So I said, "I'm glad you like gardens." "Cradock has worked it out so well, it would be nice to see what he's done." Miss Ley thought it must be irony, and she thought of some clever rebuttal to him, but could not find it.Miss Ley was a sensible woman, and they walked a few steps without saying a word.Suddenly, Dr. Ramsay said, "Well, Miss Ley, you're right after all." She stopped and looked at him.He looked serious. "Yes, I don't mind admitting it: I was wrong. You're very proud, aren't you?" He looked at her and smiled brightly. Miss Ley had not yet fully recovered from her depression, and asked herself: Is he mocking me?This is the first time she encountered something incomprehensible, not just talking about this good doctor, but also his inner thoughts. "Do you think this manor has changed a lot?" "I can't imagine how this man can do it in such a short time. Just look!" Miss Ley pursed her lips and said, "Even in the most desolate time, Ley's Mansion looked extraordinary. Now it looks like this," she paused, and looked around contemptuously, "it might just be a butcher's country mansion." "My dear Miss Ley, you will forgive me for saying that this place has lost its former glory." "But it's recovered now. That's my complaint. My dear doctor, in the old days, passers-by could see that the owners of Ley's House were generous and decent people. As for making ends meet, that's a matter of minutiae, very It may be that they are extravagant, but that is the mark of a weak soul." Miss Ley confused the metaphors, and began to preach, "There are but two proper states of existence for a gentleman: poverty or Huge rich. Moderate is vulgar. Now, passers-by see the penny-pinching break-even. Managers do it all aggressively as if they have something to be proud of. Spending a dime is pre-approved, my goodness The Leys are used to provide a moral lesson and to decorate a story. The Leys gamble, spend extravagantly, buy diamonds when they can't even afford bread, and pawn it for the King's alfresco reception .Now it's just a dream estate for a commodity farmer with a copybook." Miss Ley is really a creator of famous sayings.As long as she can justify herself, she doesn't care what kind of nonsense the content is.At the end of the fiery speech, she looked at the doctor.She thought it was his right to dissent, but he just smiled. "I think you are deliberately poking someone's sore spot." Miss Ley said to herself, "What the hell is a human being?" The doctor went on: "I confess that I did believe that things would end tragically. And, I cannot help thinking, that he might have squandered his fortune. Well, I may as well say frankly that Bertha could not have found a better Husband. He's a perfectly good guy and no one realizes what he's capable of or what he's going to achieve." If Miss Ley were a man, a whistle would have been enough to express her mood, but this lady just raised her eyebrows.Could it be that Dr. Ramsay and Miss Glover were of the same opinion? She asked: "What exactly is the whole county thinking? That annoying Mrs. Branderton, that Mrs. Lyle (who is not yet Mrs. Maston)? And Hancock and the others?" "Edward Craddock earned great marks and everyone liked him and thought he was good. He didn't get complacent about it, he never got a smidgen of complacency. Besides, he hasn't changed a thing. No, I dare I assure you. As much as I don't like admitting I'm wrong, he was Bertha's right choice. You don't know how much people respect him. I can assure you that Bertha has reason to congratulate herself. Not everyone Girls can find such a good husband." Miss Ley smiled.She was immensely relieved to find that she was not as stupid as most people (she always said so humbly).She once had doubts on this issue and was restless for a while. "Everyone thinks they are a fairy couple now?" The doctor shouted: "Oh, that's what they are. Otherwise, don't you think it's something else?" Miss Ley never felt it her duty to dispel other people's misperceptions, and she preferred to keep certain knowledge, once acquired, in her mind. She replied, "Me? I agree with everyone, and that's the only way to get people to praise your intelligence." Miss Ley, being an ordinary human being after all, asked curtly, "Which of them do you think is dominant? " The doctor replied bluntly: "Edward, it should have been him." "Do you think he's smarter?" "Well, you're a feminist?" Ramsay's tone was extremely contemptuous. "My dear doctor, my gloves have six fingertips, look at my shoes." She held out her pointed high-heeled shoes, and at the same time showed her exquisite stockings. "You want me to admit the superiority of men?" "My God, you're so argumentative!" Miss Ley smiled, touching a certain chord, "I know you want to argue with me, do you really want my opinion?" "yes." "Well, I think so, if you put a woman of the highest intelligence next to an average man, you prove nothing. That's how most of us women argue. I let George Eliot (who, by the way, Not really feminine except for wearing skirts now and then) Standing next to mediocre John Smith, tragically asking if such a woman is inferior to such a man. But it's stupid. The twenty-five The question I've been asking myself for years is, is an average stupid woman any more stupid than an average stupid man?" "What's the answer?" "Well, I don't see any difference between them." "So you're really out of ideas on the subject?" the doctor yelled. "That's why I entrust the answer to your question to you." Dr. Ramsay muttered, "Hmph! What about the Craddocks?" "Not for them. I don't think Bertha is a fool." "She can't be. Your niece has a natural deliberation, doesn't she?" "Oh? Doctor, you're being rude." Miss Ley smiled. They finished their visit to the garden, and then Dr. Ramsay went to the drawing-room to say good-bye to Bertha. The doctor said, "Miss Ley, seriously, they're really happy, aren't they? Everyone thinks so." "Everyone's opinion is always right." "Then what is your opinion?" "My God, what a stickler you are! Well, Dr. Ramsay, the only suggestion I have is: for Bertha, you know, the book of life is all printed in italics; but for Bertha As far as Edward is concerned, it is still at the stage of recognizing large calligraphy. Don’t you think that you will encounter a little difficulty in reading this way?”