Chapter 87 Chapter 87

At the end of ten days Thorpe Athelny was so well off that he was discharged from the hospital.Before leaving, he left Philip his address.Philip promised to dine with him at one o'clock next Sunday afternoon.Athelny had told Philip that he lived in a house that was still built by Inigo Jones, and that, as he talked about anything, he had sputtered about the oak railing. I blew.The moment he went downstairs to open the door for Philip, he forced Philip to admire the exquisite carvings on the lintel on the spot.The house, in a side street between Chantzelie Lane and Holborn Road, was poor and in need of paint, but stately because of its age.The house had once been fashionable, but now it was little better than a slum.It is said that there are plans to knock it down and build some beautiful office buildings on the original site.Besides, the rent was low, so that Athelny's wages were able to cover the rent of the upper two floors where his family rented.Philip had never seen what Athelny looked like standing upright.At this moment he could not help being surprised to see how small Athelny was.He was no more than five foot five inches tall.His attire was strange: a pair of blue linen trousers, which only French workers wear, and an old brown velvet coat, with a bright red sash around the waist and a very short collar, the so-called tie. A hanging bow, the kind of tie only a French clown on the page of Punch magazine would wear. He welcomed Philip warmly, and then began talking eagerly about the house, still full of enthusiasm. Touching the railing affectionately.

"Look at this railing, and touch it with your hand. It's like a piece of silk. It's really a miracle! After five years, the robbers will tear it down and sell it as firewood." He insisted on dragging Philip to a room on the second floor.There, a man in only a shirt and a stout woman were enjoying Sunday lunch with their three children. "I brought this gentleman to look at your ceiling. Have you ever seen such a beautiful ceiling? Why, Mrs. Hodgson, hello! This is Mr. Carey, who looked after me when I was in the hospital. " "Come in, sir," said the man. "Anyone who is a friend of Mr. Athelny is welcome. Mr. Athelny has brought all his friends to see the ceiling of my house. It doesn't matter what we are doing, whether we are sleeping or I am taking a bath." , he pushed open the door with a slam and went straight in."

Philip could see that Athelny was an oddity to them.But even so, they liked him a lot.At this moment, Athelny was eloquently explaining the beauty of this seventeenth-century ceiling, and the whole family listened with open mouths. "Hodgson, it's a crime to knock this house down, isn't it? You're an influential citizen, why don't you write to the newspaper to protest?" The man in the shirt chuckled, then turned to Philip and said: "Mr. Athelny is fond of a little joke. People say the houses are not going to be built, and they say it's not safe to live in."

"To hell with unhygienic hygiene. What I want is art," said Athelny. "I've got nine kids who don't drink clean water, but they're all big as cows. No, no, I don't want to take chances. I don't want to hear your whims! I don't mess with them when we move. If you know whether the water here is dirty or not, you will decide not to move things." There was a knock on the door, and a little blond girl pushed it open and walked in. "Dad, Mom told you to stop talking and go back to have lunch." "This is my third daughter," said Athelny, pointing the little girl dramatically with his forefinger. "Her name is Maria del Pilar, but she's called Jean and she's more than happy to say yes. You should blow your nose, Jean."

"Father, I don't have a handkerchief." "Shh! hush! child," he said, pulling out a beautiful bandanna as if by magic, "look what God has sent you?" When the three of them had gone upstairs, Philip was shown into a room with dark oak panelling.In the center of the room stood a long and narrow teakwood table with movable legs held in place by two iron bars.This style of table is called mesa de hieraje in Spain.It looked like they were going to dine here, as two sets of cutlery were already set on the table.Beside the table were two large armchairs with wide, smooth oak arms, and leather-covered backs and seats.These two chairs are simple and elegant, but they are not comfortable to sit on.Besides that, there is only one piece of furniture in the room, that is bargueno, which is elaborately decorated with gilding iron flowers, and the frame is engraved with Christian patterns. Although it is a bit rough, the image is still exquisite.There are two or three glazed dishes on the top.The plate is cracked and cracked, but the color is still bright.On the walls around are the works of famous Spanish painters in frames. Although the frames are old, they are very beautiful.The subject matter of the work is disgusting, the picture has been damaged due to age and poor storage; the thoughts expressed in the work are not elegant.Still, there is a passion in these works.There were no more valuable furnishings in the room, but the atmosphere was still pleasant.There is an atmosphere of grandeur and simplicity inside.Philip felt that this was the old Spanish spirit.Athelny opened the bargueno and showed Philip the beautiful decorations and hidden drawers inside.At this moment, a slender girl with two brown braids hanging down her back stepped in.

"Mom said lunch is ready and I'll be waiting for you two. As soon as you sit down, I'll bring the food in." "Come here, Sally, and shake hands with this Mr. Carey," he said, turning to Philip. "Is she big? She's my oldest. How old are you, Sally?" "Father, you'll be fifteen in June." "I gave her a Christian name, Maria del Sol. Since she was my first child, I dedicated her to the glorious Sun God of Castile. But her mother called her Sha Lie, her brother calls her Pudding-Face." The girl smiled shyly, showing her neat and white teeth, and two flushes appeared on her cheeks.She was slender and tall for her age.She had brown eyes, a broad forehead, and flushed cheeks.

"Go get your mother up here, and shake hands with Mr. Carey before he sits down to dinner." "Mother said to come right after lunch. She hasn't washed yet." "Well, we'll go and see her now. Mr. Carey can't eat a Yorkshire pudding without shaking hands." Philip followed the master into the kitchen, and saw that the kitchen was not big, but there were quite a few people in it, which seemed overcrowded.The children were clamoring and shouting, but suddenly calmed down when they saw a stranger coming. A large table was set in the center of the kitchen, and Athelny's children were sitting around them, craning their necks to eat.A woman is leaning over the stove to remove baked potatoes.

"Mr. Carey saw you coming, Betty," announced Athelny. "You figured it out, brought him here. Know what people think?" Madame Athelny wore a dirty apron, the sleeves of her cotton blouse rolled up to the elbows, and her hair was covered with curlers.She was tall and slender, standing a good three inches taller than her husband.She had good features, blue eyes, and a benevolent face.She looked pretty when she was young, but the years are not forgiving, coupled with the continuous birth of children, her body is now fat and bloated, her pair of blue eyes have lost their former glory, her skin has become red and rough, and she was originally wealthy. The color and luster of the blue hair is also eclipsed.At this moment Madame Athelny straightened up, raised her apron, wiped her hands, and held out her hand to Philip.

"Welcome, welcome, sir," she greeted in a low voice.Philip felt very strange, feeling that her accent was too familiar. "I heard from Athelny that you treated him well in the hospital." "Now it's time for you to meet my little beasts," said Athelny. "That's Thorpe," he said, pointing to the fat curly-haired boy, "he's my eldest son, and heir to my title, property, and obligations." Then he pointed with his forefinger Three other little boys.They were all strong, with rosy cheeks and smiling faces.They all lowered their eyelids in embarrassment and stared at the plates in front of them while Philip smiled at them. "Now I will introduce you to my daughters in order of size: Maria del Sol..."

"Pudding face!" blurted out a little boy. "My son, your humor is too bad. Maria de los Mercedes, Maria del Pilar, Maria de la Concepcion, Maria Rosario." "I call them Sally, Molly, Connie, Lucy, and Gene," went on Mrs. Athelny. "Hey, Athelny, go back to your room, you two, and I'll serve the food right away. I'll send the children to you after I've washed them." "Honey, if I had to name you, I'd call you Suds Maria. You're always torturing these poor dolls with soap." "Mr. Carey, please go first, otherwise I will never be able to make him sit down and eat safely."

No sooner had Athelny and Philip settled down in the two monkish chairs than Sally brought in two large platters of beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes and cabbage.Athelny took sixpence out of his pocket, and told Sally to fetch a jug of beer. "I hope you don't dine here especially for me," said Philip. "Actually, I will be very happy to eat with the children." "Well, that's not the case. I've always dined alone in this room. I like to keep the old custom. I don't think a woman should sit at a table with a man. In that case, our The conversation is spoiled. Besides, it won't do them any good. They'll hear what we say. Women don't keep their heads when they have thoughts." Both the host and guest ate with relish. "Have you ever had a pudding like this before? No one can do it as well as my wife does. It is a great advantage of not marrying a rich lady. You must have noticed that my wife is not a famous lady?" The question embarrassed Philip so much that he did not know how to answer it. "I haven't thought about it," he replied awkwardly. Athelny laughed, bright and characteristic. "No, she's not a rich lady, not even a little lady. Her father was a farmer, but she never bothered about life all her life. We had twelve children, and only nine survived. I always I told her to stop quickly and stop giving birth, but she is too stubborn as a dead woman. Now she has formed a habit, even if she has given birth to twenty, I still don't know if she is satisfied." At this moment, Sally came in with beer in hand, poured Philip a glass, and went to the other side of the table to pour her father a drink.Athelny put his hands around her waist. "Have you ever seen such a beautiful, tall girl? She's only fifteen, but she looks like she's twenty. Look at her face. She's grown so big, she hasn't been sick for a day. Who married Lucky for her, isn't it, Sally?" Sally was used to this kind of teasing from her father, so she didn't feel embarrassed. She just listened silently, with a faint and steady smile on her face.Her generous but slightly shy expression is rather cute and loving. "Be careful the food doesn't get cold, Dad," she said, pulling herself away from her father's arms. "Just call me for pudding, okay?" It was just the two of them in the room.Athelny picked up the tin glass and took a deep swig. "I say, is there anything better in the world than English beer?" said he. "Thank God for merriment, roast beef, rice noodles, good appetite, and beer. Find a rich woman once. Oh, God! Don't marry a rich woman, my brother." Philip couldn't help laughing.Philip was intoxicated by the sight, by the funny little man in his queer attire, by the paneled room, with its Spanish furniture and English food.Everything here is so uncoordinated, but it is full of elegance and interest, which is beyond words. "My brother, the reason you were laughing just now was because you disdain to marry a woman who is inferior to you. You want to marry a wife who is as knowledgeable as yourself. Your head is full of A kindred spirit or something. That's utter nonsense, my boy! A man doesn't have to talk politics to his wife. Do you think I care what Betty thinks about differential calculus? A man just A wife who cooks for him and looks after his children. I've married both ladies and commoners, and I know what it's like. Let's ask Sally to bring the pudding." After finishing speaking, Athelny clapped his hands a few times, and Sally walked in in response.As she began to put away the dishes, Philip was about to get up to help when Athelny stopped him. "Let her tidy up herself, my boy. She doesn't want you to be left alone. Doesn't she, Sally? Besides, she won't think you're rude just because you sit while she waits." .She doesn't give a shit about chivalry. Am I right, Sally?" "Yes, Daddy," Sally replied in short pauses. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Sally?" "Don't know, Dad. But you know Mom doesn't like it when you swear." Athelny chuckled loudly.Sally brought them two plates of oily, fragrant, luscious rice pudding.Athelny ate his portion of pudding with relish. "It is a rule in my house that Sunday lunch must never be changed. It is a kind of etiquette. Fifty Sundays in a year, there is roast beef and rice pudding. On Easter, lamb and green beans. In rice On Caleb we eat roast goose and applesauce. That's how we keep up our national tradition. When Sally gets married, she will forget many things I taught her, but there is one thing she will never forget , that if you want to live happily ever after, you must eat roast beef and rice pudding on Sunday." "Just call me if you want cheese," Sally said casually. "Do you know the legend about the kingfisher?" asked Athelny.Philip gradually got used to his jumpy way of talking. "When the kingfisher was exhausted while flying over the sea, its mate got under its body and supported it with its strong wings to continue flying forward. A man also hopes that his wife can be like the kingfisher Like a female kingfisher. I lived with my ex-wife for three years. She was a rich lady, and she brought in fifteen hundred pounds a year. So we used to hold meetings in that little red brick house on Kensington High Street. Small party. She's pretty, she's stunning. That's what people say, lawyers and their wives who dined with us, writers' attorneys, fledgling politicians, and so on, That's what they all said about her. Oh, she was gorgeous and stunning. She made me wear a silk hat and frock coat to church. She took me to classical music. And she liked to go to lectures on Sunday afternoons. She eats breakfast at eight-thirty every morning. If I'm late, it's cold. She reads decent books, looks at decent pictures, and listens to decent music. Good God, this woman makes me sick! She's still as pretty as ever. Minus back then. She still lived in the little red brick house on Kensington High Street. The walls of the house were covered with Morris's articles and Westerler's etchings. She was the same as she was twenty years ago. Small buttercream and ice cubes from Gaunt's store for a small party at home." Philip did not ask how the mismatched couple ended up separating, but Athelny himself offered to provide him with answers. "You know, Betty ain't my wife. My wife just won't divorce me. The kids are goddamn badass, and none of them are good. So what if they're so bad? Betty was there back then." One of the maids. Four or five years ago, I was poor and in trouble, and I had to support seven children. So I asked my wife to help me. But she said, as long as I leave Betty and go abroad Go, she'll just give me some money. Do you think I'd have the guts to do it? We used to go hungry for a while. But my wife says I love the ghetto. I'm broke and broke. I'm in linen now I was paid three pounds a week as a press agent for the company. I prayed to God every day, though, and thank God I was out of that little red brick house in Kensington High Street." Sally came in to deliver the cheese, but Athelny kept on talking: "It's the biggest mistake in the world to think that a man has money to support his family. You need money to make your children gentlemen and ladies, and I don't want my children to be ladies and gentlemen. Another year Well, Sally's going to go out and fend for herself. She's going to learn to be a tailor. Isn't she, Sally? As for the boys, they'll all have to serve the British Empire then. I think they'll all be in the Navy. There Their life is very interesting and meaningful. Besides, the food there is good, the salary is high, and there is a pension at the end for them to retire to. " Philip lit his pipe while Athelny smoked his own Havana cigarette.By this time, Sally had cleared the table.Philip was silent, but he felt very uncomfortable about the privacy of himself and Athelny's family.Athelny's appearance as a foreigner, his small stature, and his loud, bombastic voice, which he emphasized from time to time for emphasis, were all astonishing.Philip could not help thinking of Cronshaw, who was dead.Athelny seems to be similar to Cronshaw. He is also good at independent thinking and has a bold and unrestrained personality, but his temperament is obviously more cheerful and cheerful than Cronshaw.He was, however, of a coarser mind, and had no interest in abstract rationality, and it was this which made Cronshaw's conversations so eloquent and engaging.Art.Ernie claimed to be descended from a prominent country family and was proud of it.He showed Philip some photographs of an Elizabethan villa, and said to Philip: "My brother, generations of the Athelnys have lived there for seven centuries. Oh, it would be interesting if you could see the fireplace and the ceiling there!" There's a small cupboard over the wainscoting.Athelny took a family tree from a cupboard.Like a child, he handed the family tree to Philip with a triumphant mood.The family tree looked quaint. "See how the family names come back: Thorpe, Athelstan, Harold, Edward. I'll name my sons after the family names. As for the daughters, you see, I gave them all Spanish names." Philip suddenly felt uneasy, worried that what Athelny said might be a lie he had carefully concocted.It was not from a base motive that he said that, but from a desire to show off and to be admired.Athelny claimed to be a pupil of Winchester College.This could not be concealed from Philip, who was very sensitive to differences in manners.He always felt that there was nothing about his master who had been educated at a prestigious public school.Athelny recounted with relish the anecdotes of his ancestors' marriages with noble families, but at this moment, Philip was making various guesses with interest, thinking that Athelny could not guarantee that it was Winchester. The son of a certain merchant—either a coal merchant or an auctioneer—whose only connection to that ancient family was a coincidental surname, and which he flaunted before the public with its genealogy. , I can't help showing off.