Chapter 7 Chapter 7 Fleur
To avoid embarrassing Jon by asking unanswerable questions, all Holly told Jon was:
"There's a girl coming down with Farr for the weekend."
For the same reason, Farr only told Fleur:
"We have a young man living with us."
So the two yearlings—that's how Farr called them in his mind—meeted the unexpected, the most satisfyingly unexpected.Here's how Holly introduced them:
"This is Jon, my brother; Fleur is our cousin, Jon."
Jon was walking in through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the sun at that time, and he was completely confused by this miracle from heaven. He only had time to hear Frey say calmly:
"Hello?" It was as if Jon had never seen her before; at the same time, seeing her head move slightly, too fast, he vaguely understood that he had never seen her.So he drowsily clings to her hand and bows, becoming stiller than the grave.He knew that silence was the best policy.When he was a child, he was reading by an oil lamp, and his mother caught him and said foolishly, "Mom, I'm just reading here." At that time his mother replied, "Jon, don't lie, because your You can see it in the face—no one will believe you."
He always remembered the words, and therefore always lacked the confidence necessary to tell a lie.Fleur's talk was quick and thoughtful, cheerful about everything, and he would just listen, or pass her the muffins and jam, and walk away in a hurry.It is said that in delirium tremens you see only one fixed object, quite dark, which suddenly changes shape and position.Jon saw this fixed thing now, with dark eyes and rather black hair, changing status but never changing shape.Excited by the knowledge that he already had a secret (albeit incomprehensible) understanding of the thing, he eagerly looked forward to copying out his own poem as well--of course he would never dare to show it to him. She looked—then it was the thud of the horse's hooves that woke him up, peeked out the window, and saw her riding away with Val.She wasted no time, but it made him sad to see it.His own time was clearly wasted.They might have asked him, too, if he hadn't pulled his feet up and slipped away in that terrible ecstasy.He sat at the window and watched them disappear, then reappear on the roadside, disappear again, and finally reappear clearly on the edge of the plateau for a minute. "Fool!" he thought; "I'm always missing opportunities."
Why couldn't he be so calm?He rested his chin on both hands, imagining what it would be like to ride with her on horseback.A weekend is just a weekend, and he has missed three hours.Has anyone ever seen anyone look so stupid but himself?Haven't seen it.
He changed into his dinner clothes early and was the first downstairs.This opportunity cannot be missed any longer.He failed to meet Fleur, however, because she was the last one to come downstairs.He sat across from her at dinner, and it was terrible--just couldn't speak, for fear of saying the wrong thing; just couldn't look at her in the only natural way; This person with whom he had crossed mountains and mountains to a distant place in his fantasy; at the same time, he still felt that he must be a fool in her eyes and in the eyes of all the people present.Yeah, it sucks!But she is so talkative-talking about things, talking about things.It was strange how well she had learned the art, which he found difficult and hateful.She must think he's worthless.
His sister's eyes stared at him with an expression of wonder, which forced him at last to look at Fleur; but her eyes opened wide and anxious at once, as if to say, "Oh! you mustn't." Don't—" So he had to look at Farr; Farr smiled at him, so he had to look at the sliced meat in the basin - at least the sliced meat didn't have eyes and couldn't smile, so he ate it in a hurry . "Jon's going to be a farmer," he heard Holly say; "a farmer and a poet."
He raised his eyes reproachfully, saw Holly's eyebrows raised like his father's, and laughed to himself, feeling a little better.
Farr repeated the story of Mr. Prosper Profan; it was as good as it gets.Because Val looked at Holly when he was talking, and Holly looked at Val, and Fleur seemed to be frowning slightly thinking about some of her own thoughts, so Jon could really look at her at will.She wore a white dress, very simple and well cut; her arms were bare, and a white rose was pinned in her hair.After that intense discomfort, in that instant of quick casual glance, he saw her changed, like a graceful white fruit tree one sees in the dark; he saw her like a poem. A light flashes before his mind's eye, or a song drifts away and fades away.
He smiled secretly, wondering how old she was—she seemed much calmer and more sophisticated than himself.Why can't they say they've met before?He suddenly remembered the confused and painful look on his mother's face at that time; she replied to him at that time: "Yes, they are relatives, but we don't know them." If I knew Fleur, I would never dislike her!
Alone with Val after dinner, he sipped humbly port and responded to his newfound brother-in-law's overtures of intimacy.As for the riding (which was always the most important thing in Farr), he could take the little sorrel horse, saddle up and unsaddle himself, and take care of it when he got back.Jon said that he was used to doing this at home, and at the same time felt that the master's evaluation of himself had been raised a step.
"Fleur," Val said, "isn't a very good ride, but she's good at it. Of course, her father can't tell the difference between a horse and a cart. Does father-in-law ride a horse?"
"Used to ride; but now he—you know, he—" He paused, reluctant to say the word "old."His father was old, but not old; not old--never old! "Exactly," Farr said. "I knew your brother at Oxford many years ago, the one who died in the Boer War. We had a fight in New College Gardens. It was a strange thing," he went on, dreaming, "from here As many things happen."
Jon's eyes were wide open; everything was pushing him towards historical evidence, but at this moment, Holly's soft voice came from the door:
"Come, you two." He stood up, but his heart pushed him toward someone far more modern than Holly.
It turned out that Fleur said, "The night view is too beautiful to stay inside," so they all went outside.The moonlight made the dew white, and an old sundial cast a long shadow.Two boxwood fences form a right angle, looking dark and high, separating the orchard.Fleur turned from the opening in the hedge corner.
"Come here, you two!" he called.Jon glanced at Farr and Holly, and followed, while Fleur was running among the fruit trees like a ghost.Above her the flowers bloomed so gracefully and like spray, and there was a smell of old tree trunks and nettles.She suddenly disappeared.He thought he was separated from her, and then he almost ran into her, and it turned out that she was standing still.
"Is it fun?" she called.
Jon replied, "Of course!"
She reached out and plucked a flower, twirled it between her fingers, and said:
"I suppose I could call you Jon?"
"I think it's perfectly fine."
"Okay! But do you know that our two families have enmity?"
Jon snorted, "Have a grudge? Why?"
"It's like the story, but it's boring. So I'm going to pretend we haven't met. How about we get up early tomorrow and go for a walk before breakfast and talk a little bit? I hate slow things, how about you?"
Jon was so happy that he could only promise in a low voice.
"Meet at six, then. I think your mother is beautiful."
Jon said enthusiastically:
"Yes, she is beautiful."
"I like beauty in all forms," she said, "as long as it's exciting. I don't like Greek art at all."
"Why! Don't you like Euripides?"
"Euripides? If I don't like it, I can't handle the Greek script; it's too long. I think beauty is always fast. I like to look at a picture and run away after finishing it. I can't stand a lot of things in the One piece. Look!" She held the flower up in the moonlight. "It's more beautiful than the whole orchard, I think."
Suddenly, she took Jon's hand with her other hand.
"Of all the things in the world, caution is the worst, don't you think? Sniff the moonlight!"
She held the flower to Jon's face; Jon agreed faintly that caution was the worst of all things in the world, and stooped and kissed the hand that held him.
"That's good, but too old-fashioned," Fleur said quietly. "Jon, you are too silent. But if the silence is fast, I still like it." She let go of his hand. "Do you think I dropped the handkerchief on purpose?"
"No!" Jon exclaimed, feeling very horrified.
"Of course it was intentional. Go back, or they will think that this thing was also intentional." She ran like a ghost among the fruit trees again.Jon chased after him, his heart was full of love, full of spring, with white flowers under his feet, and the moonlight was so unreal.The two came out from the place where they entered the garden, and Fleur walked pretending to be solemn.
"It's beautiful in there," she said to Holly, dreamily.
Jon kept silent, hoping that she might think this silence was happy.
She said goodnight to him casually, in such a dignified manner that it seemed to him like a dream just now.
Back in her room, Fleur took off her long gown, wrapped herself in a loose pajamas, still pinned the white flower in her hair, and looked like a Japanese girl; she sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, and wrote road:
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