brideshead+revisited-第49章

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　　　　'Then　he　must　have　his　allowance　as　you　suggest。　The　thing　is　quite　clear。'
　　　　In　some　ways　Brideshead　was　an　easy　man　to　deal　with。　He　had　a　kind　of　mad　certainty　about　everything　which　made　his　decisions　swift　and　easy。
　　　　'Would　you　like　to　paint　this　house？'　he　asked　suddenly。　'A　picture　of　the　front；　another　of　the　back　on　the　park；　another　of　the　staircase；　another　of　the　big　drawing…room？　Four　small　oils；　that　is　what　my　father　wants　done　for　a　record；　to　keep　at　Brideshead。　I　don't　know　any　painters。　Julia　said　you　specialized　in　architecture。'
　　　　'Yes；'　I　said。　'I　should　like　to　very　much。'
　　　　'You　know　it's　being　pulled　down？　My　father's　selling　it。　They　are　going　to　put　up　a　block　of　flats　here。　They're　keeping　the　name　…　we　can't　stop　them　apparently。'
　　　　'What　a　sad　thing。'
　　　　'Well；　I'm　sorry　of　course。　But　you　think　it　good　architecturally？'
　　　　'One　of　the　most　beautiful　houses　I　know。'
　　　　'Can't　see　it。　I've　always　thought　it　rather　ugly。　Perhaps　your　pictures　will　make　me　see　it　differently。'
　　　　This　was　my　first　mission；　I　had　to　work　against　time；　for　the　contractors　were　only　waiting　for　the　final　signature　to　start　their　work　of　destruction。　In　spite；　or　perhaps；　because；　of　that　for　it　is　my　vice　to　spend　too　long　on　a　canvas；　never　content　to　leave　well　alone　…　those　four　paintings　are　particular　favourites　of　mine；　and　it　was　their　success；　both　with　myself　and　others；　that　confirmed　me　in　what　has　since　been　my　career。
　　　　I　began　in　the　long　drawing…room；　for　they　were　anxious　to　shift　the　furniture；　which　had　stood　there　since　it　was　built。　It　was　a　long；　elaborate；　symmetrical　Adam　room；　with　two　bays　of　windows　opening　into　Green　Park。　The　light；　streaming　in　from　the　west　on　the　afternoon　when　I　began　to　paint　there；　was　fresh　green　from　the　young　trees　outside。
　　　　I　had　the　perspective　set　out　in　pencil　and　the　detail　carefully　placed。　I　held　back　from　painting；　like　a　diver　on　the　water's　edge；　once　in　I　found　myself　buoyed　and　exhilarated。　I　was　normally　a　slow　and　deliberate　painter；　that　afternoon　and　all　next　day；　and　the　day　after；　I　worked　fast。　I　could　do　nothing　wrong。　At　the　end　of　each　passage　I　paused；　tense；　afraid　to　start　the　next；　fearing；　like　a　gambler；　that　luck　must　turn　and　the　pile　be　lost。　Bit　by　bit；　minute　by　minute；　the　thing　came　into　being。　There　were　no　difficulties；　the　intricate　multiplicity　of　light　and　colour　became　a　whole；　the　right　colour　was　where　I　wanted　it；　on　the　palette；　each　brush　stroke；　as　soon　as　it　was　plete；　seemed　to　have　been　there　always。
　　　　Presently　on　the　last　afternoon　I　heard　a　voice　behind　me　say：　'May　I　stay　here　and　watch？'
　　　　I　turned　and　found　Cordelia。
　　　　'Yes；'　I　said；　'if　you　don't　talk；'　and　I　worked　on；　oblivious　of　her；　until　the　failing　sun　made　me　put　up　my　brushes。
　　　　'It　must　be　lovely　to　be　able　to　do　that。'
　　　　I　had　forgotten　she　was　there。
　　　　'It　is。'
　　　　I　could　not　even　now　leave　my　picture；　although　the　sun　was　down　and　the　room　fading　to　monochrome。　I　took　it　from　the　easel　and　held　it　up　to　the　windows；　put　it　back　and　lightened　a　shadow。　Then；　suddenly　weary　in　head　and　eyes　and　back　and　arm；　I　gave　it　up　for　the　evening　and　turned　to　Cordelia。
　　　　She　was　now　fifteen　and　had　grown　tall；　nearly　to　her　full　height；　in　the　last　eighteen　months。　She　had　not　the　promise　of　Julia's　full　quattrocento　loveliness；　there　was　a　touch　of　Brideshead　already　in　her　length　of　nose　and　high　cheekbone；　she　was　in　black；　mourning　for　her　mother。
　　　　'I'm　tired；'　I　said。
　　　　'I　bet　you　are。　Is　it　finished？'
　　　　'Practically。　I　must　go　over　it　again　tomorrow。'
　　　　'D'you　know　it's　long　past　dinner　time？　There's　no　one　here　to　cook　anything　now。　I　only　came　up　today；　and　didn't　realize　how　far　the　decay　had　gone。　You　wouldn't　like　to　take　me　out　to　dinner；　would；　you？'
　　　　We　left　by　the　garden　door；　into　the　park；　and　walked　in　the　twilight　to　the　Ritz　Grill。
　　　　'You've　seen　Sebastian？　He　won't　e　home；　even　now？'
　　　　I　did　not　realize　till　then　that　she　had　understood　so　much。　I　said　so
　　　　'Well；　I　love　him　more　than　anyone；'　she　said。　'It's　sad　about　Marchers；　isn't　it？　Do　you　know　they're　going　to　build　a　block　of　flats；　and　that　Rex　wanted　to　take　I　what　he　called　a　〃penthouse〃　at　the　top。　Isn't　it　like　him？　Poor　Julia。　That　was　too　much　for　her。　He　couldn't　understand　at　all；　he　thought　she　would　like　to　keep　up　with　her　old　home。　Things　have　all　e　to　an　end　very　quickly；　haven't　they？　Apparently　papa　has　been　terribly　in　debt　for　a　long　time。　Selling　Marchers　has　put　him　straight　again　and　saved　I　don't　know　how　much　a　year　in　rates。　But　it　seems　a　shame　to　pull　it　down。　Julia　says　she'd　sooner　that　than　to　have　someone　else　live　there。'
　　　　'What's　going　to　happen　to　you？'
　　　　'What；　indeed？　There　are　all　kinds　of　suggestions。　Aunt　Fanny　Rossmon　wants　me　to　live　with　her。　Then　Rex　and　Julia　talk　of　taking　over　half　Brideshead　and　living　there。　Papa　won't　e　back。　We　thought　he　might；　but　no。
　　　　'They've　closed　the　chapel　at　Brideshead；　Bridey　and　the　Bishop；　mummy's　Requiem　was　the　last　mass　said　there。　After　she　was　buried　the　priest　came　in　…　I　was　there　alone。　I　don't　think　he　saw　me　…　and　took　out　the　altar　stone　and　put　it　in　his　bag；　then　he　burned　the　wads　of　wool　with　the　holy　oil　on　them　and　threw　the　ash　outside；　he　emptied　the　holy…water　stoop　and　blew　out　the　lamp　in　the　sanctuary；　and　left　the　tabernacle　open；　and　empty；　as　though　from　now　on　it　was　always　to　be　Good　Friday。　I　suppose　none　of　this　makes　any　sense　to　you；　Charles；　poor　agnostic。　I　stayed　there　till　he　was　gone；　and　then；　suddenly；　there　wasn't　any　chapel　there　any　more；　just　an　oddly　decorated　room。　I　can't　tell　you　what　it　felt　like。　You've。never　been　to　Tenebrae；　I　suppose？'
　　　　'Never。'
　　　　'Well；　if　you　had　you'd　know　what　the　Jews　felt　about　their　temple。　Quomodo　sedet　sola　civitas。。。it's　a　beautiful　chant。　You　ought　to　go　once；　just　to　hear　it。'
　　　　'Still　trying　to　convert　me；　Cordelia？'
　　　　'Oh；　no。　That's　all　over；　too。　D'you　know　what　papa　said　when　he　became　a　Catholic？　Mummy　told　me　once。　He　said　to　her：　〃You　have　brought　back　my　family　to　the　faith　of　their　ancestors。〃　Pompous；　you　know。　It　takes　people　different　ways。　Anyhow；　the　family　haven't　been　very　constant；　have　they？　There's　him　gone　and　Sebastian　gone　and　Julia　gone。　But　God　won't　let　them　go　for　long；　you　know。　I　wonder　if　you　remember　the　story　mummy　read　us　the　evening　Sebastian　first　got　drunk　I　mean　the　bad　evening。　〃Father　Brown〃　said　something　like　〃I　caught　him〃　（the　thief）　〃with　an　unseen　hook　and　an　invisible　line　which　is　long　enough　to　let　him　wander　to　the　ends　of　the　world　and　still　to　bring　him　back　with　a　twitch　upon　the　thread。〃'
　　　　We　scarcely　mentioned　her　mother。　All　the　time　we　talked；　she　ate　voraciously。　Once　she　said：
　　　　'Did　you　see　Sir　Adrian　Porson's　poem　in　The　Times？　It's　funny：　he　knew　her　best　of　anyone　…　he　loved　her　all　his　life；　you　know　…　and　yet　it　doesn't　seem　to　have　anything　to　do　with　her　at　all。
　　　　'I　got　on　best　with　her　of　any　of　us；　but　I　don't　believe　I　ever　really　loved　her。　Not　as　she　wanted　or　deserved。　It's　odd　I　didn't；　because　I'm　full　of　natural　affections。'
　　　　'I　never　really　knew　your　Mother；'　I　said。
　　　　'You　didn't　like　her。　I　sometimes　think　when　people　wanted　to　hate　God　they　hated　mummy。'
　　　　'What　do　you　mean　by　that；　Cordelia？'
　　　　'Well；　you　see；　she　was　saintly　but　she　wasn't　a　saint。　No　one　could　really　hate　a　saint；　could　they？　They　can't　really　hate　God　either。　When　they　want　to　hate　him　and　his　saints；　they　have　to　find　something　like　themselves　and　pretend　it's　God　and　hate　that。　I　suppose　you　think　that's　all　bosh。'
　　　　'I　heard　almost　the　same　thing　once　before　…　from　someone　very　different。'
　　　　'Oh；　I'm　quite　serious。　I've　thought　about　it　a　lot。　It　seems　to　explain　poor　mummy。'
　　　　Then　this　odd　child　tucked　into　her　dinner　with　renewed　relish。　'First　time　I've　ever　been　taken　out　to　dinner　alone　at　a　restaurant；'　she　said。
　　　　Later：　'When　Julia　heard　they　were　selling　Marchers　she　said：　〃Poor　Cordelia。　She　won't　have　her　ing…out　ball　there　after　all。〃　It's　a　thing　we　used　to　talk　about　…　like　my　being　her　bridesmaid。　That　didn't　e　off　either。　W