Chương Chương 74 · 第74章
. About six months after he had set up his shop his prosperity had
reached its climax. It seemed even then as though he were likely to go
ahead no less fast than heretofore, and I doubt not that he would have
done so, if success or non-success had depended upon himself alone.
Unfortunately he was not the only person to be reckoned with.
One morning he had gone out to attend some sales, leaving his wife
perfectly well, as usual in good spirits, and looking very pretty. When
he came back he found her sitting on a chair in the back parlour, with
her hair over her face, sobbing and crying as though her heart would
break. She said she had been frightened in the morning by a man who had
pretended to be a customer, and had threatened her unless she gave him
some things, and she had had to give them to him in order to save
herself from violence; she had been in hysterics ever since the man had
gone. This was her story, but her speech was so incoherent that it was
not easy to make out what she said. Ernest knew she was with child, and
thinking this might have something to do with the matter, would have
sent for a doctor if Ellen had not begged him not to do so.
Anyone who had had experience of drunken people would have seen at a
glance what the matter was, but my hero knew nothing about
them—nothing, that is to say, about the drunkenness of the habitual
drunkard, which shows itself very differently from that of one who gets
drunk only once in a way. The idea that his wife could drink had never
even crossed his mind, indeed she always made a fuss about taking more
than a very little beer, and never touched spirits. He did not know
much more about hysterics than he did about drunkenness, but he had
always heard that women who were about to become mothers were liable to
be easily upset and were often rather flighty, so he was not greatly
surprised, and thought he had settled the matter by registering the
discovery that being about to become a father has its troublesome as
well as its pleasant side.
The great change in Ellen’s life consequent upon her meeting Ernest and
getting married had for a time actually sobered her by shaking her out
of her old ways. Drunkenness is so much a matter of habit, and habit so
much a matter of surroundings, that if you completely change the
surroundings you will sometimes get rid of the drunkenness altogether.
Ellen had intended remaining always sober henceforward, and never
having had so long a steady fit before, believed she was now cured. So
she perhaps would have been if she had seen none of her old
acquaintances. When, however, her new life was beginning to lose its
newness, and when her old acquaintances came to see her, her present
surroundings became more like her past, and on this she herself began
to get like her past too. At first she only got a little tipsy and
struggled against a relapse; but it was no use, she soon lost the heart
to fight, and now her object was not to try and keep sober, but to get
gin without her husband’s finding it out.
So the hysterics continued, and she managed to make her husband still
think that they were due to her being about to become a mother. The
worse her attacks were, the more devoted he became in his attention to
her. At last he insisted that a doctor should see her. The doctor of
course took in the situation at a glance, but said nothing to Ernest
except in such a guarded way that he did not understand the hints that
were thrown out to him. He was much too downright and matter of fact to
be quick at taking hints of this sort. He hoped that as soon as his
wife’s confinement was over she would regain her health and had no
thought save how to spare her as far as possible till that happy time
should come.
In the mornings she was generally better, as long that is to say as
Ernest remained at home; but he had to go out buying, and on his return
would generally find that she had had another attack as soon as he had
left the house. At times she would laugh and cry for half an hour
together, at others she would lie in a semi-comatose state upon the
bed, and when he came back he would find that the shop had been
neglected and all the work of the household left undone. Still he took
it for granted that this was all part of the usual course when women
were going to become mothers, and when Ellen’s share of the work
settled down more and more upon his own shoulders he did it all and
drudged away without a murmur. Nevertheless, he began to feel in a
vague way more as he had felt in Ashpit Place, at Roughborough, or at
Battersby, and to lose the buoyancy of spirits which had made another
man of him during the first six months of his married life.
It was not only that he had to do so much household work, for even the
cooking, cleaning up slops, bed-making and fire-lighting ere long
devolved upon him, but his business no longer prospered. He could buy
as hitherto, but Ellen seemed unable to sell as she had sold at first.
The fact was that she sold as well as ever, but kept back part of the
proceeds in order to buy gin, and she did this more and more till even
the unsuspecting Ernest ought to have seen that she was not telling the
truth. When she sold better—that is to say when she did not think it
safe to keep back more than a certain amount, she got money out of him
on the plea that she had a longing for this or that, and that it would
perhaps irreparably damage the baby if her longing was denied her. All
seemed right, reasonable, and unavoidable, nevertheless Ernest saw that
until the confinement was over he was likely to have a hard time of it.
All however would then come right again.