What followed showed that Mrs. Strickland was a woman of character. Whatever anguish she suffered she concealed. She saw shrewdly that the world is quickly bored by the recital of misfortune, and willingly avoids the sight of distress. Whenever she went out -- and compassion for her misadventure made her friends eager to entertain her -- she bore a demeanour that was perfect. She was brave, but not too obviously; cheerful, but not brazenly; and she seemed more anxious to listen to the troubles of others than to discuss her own. Whenever she spoke of her husband it was with pity. Her attitude towards him at first perplexed me. One day she said to me:

"You know, I'm convinced you were mistaken about Charles being alone. From what I've been able to gather from certain sources that I can't tell you, I know that he didn't leave England by himself. "

"In that case he has a positive genius for covering up his tracks. "

She looked away and slightly coloured.

"What I mean is, if anyone talks to you about it, please don't contradict it if they say he eloped with somebody. "

"Of course not. "

She changed the conversation as though it were a matter to which she attached no importance. I discovered presently that a peculiar story was circulating among her friends. They said that Charles Strickland had become infatuated with a French dancer, whom he had first seen in the ballet at the Empire, and had accompanied her to Paris. I could not find out how this had arisen, but, singularly enough, it created much sympathy for Mrs. Strickland, and at the same time gave her not a little prestige. This was not without its use in the calling which she /hæd/ decided to follow. Colonel MacAndrew had not exaggerated when he said she would be penniless, and it was necessary for her to earn her own living as quickly as she could. She made up her mind to profit by her acquaintance with so many writers, and without loss of time began to learn shorthand and typewriting. Her education made it likely that she would be a typist more efficient than the average, and her story made her claims appealing. Her friends promised to send her work, and took care to recommend her to all theirs.

The MacAndrews, who were childless and in easy circumstances, arranged to undertake the care of the children, and Mrs. Strickland had only herself to provide for. She let her flat and sold her furniture. She settled in two tiny rooms in Westminster, and faced the world anew. She was so efficient that it was certain she would make a success of the adventure.

It was about five years after this that I decided to live in Paris for a while. I was growing stale in London. I was tired of doing much the same thing every day. My friends pursued their course with uneventfulness; they had no longer any surprises for me, and when I met them I knew pretty well what they would say; even their love-affairs had a tedious banality. We were like tram-cars running on their lines from terminus to terminus, and it was possible to calculate within small limits the number of passengers they would carry. Life was ordered too pleasantly. I was seized with panic. I gave up my small apartment, sold my few belongings, and resolved to start afresh.

I called on Mrs. Strickland before I left. I had not seen her for some time, and I noticed changes in her; it was not only that she was older, thinner, and more lined; I think her character had altered. She /hæd/ made a success of her business, and now had an office in Chancery Lane; she did little typing herself, but spent her time correcting the work of the four girls she employed. She /hæd/ had the idea of giving it a certain daintiness, and she made much use of blue and red inks; she bound the copy in coarse paper, that looked vaguely like watered silk, in various pale colours; and she /hæd/ acquired a reputation for neatness and accuracy. She was making money. But she could not get over the idea that to earn her living was somewhat undignified, and she was inclined to remind you that she was a lady by birth. She could not help bringing into her conversation the names of people she knew which would satisfy you that she /hæd/ not sunk in the social scale. She was a little ashamed of her courage and business capacity, but delighted that she was going to dine the next night with a K. C. who lived in South Kensington. She was pleased to be able to tell you that her son was at Cambridge, and it was with a little laugh that she spoke of the rush of dances to which her daughter, just out, was invited. I suppose I said a very stupid thing.

"Is she going into your business?" I asked.

"Oh no; I wouldn't let her do that, " Mrs. Strickland answered. "She's so pretty. I'm sure she'll marry well. "

"I should have thought it would be a help to you. "

"Several people have suggested that she should go on the stage, but of course I couldn't consent to that, I know all the chief dramatists, and I could get her a part to-morrow, but I shouldn't like her to mix with all sorts of people. "

I was a little chilled by Mrs. Strickland's exclusiveness.

"Do you ever hear of your husband?"

"No; I haven't heard a word. He may be dead for all I know. "

"I may run across him in Paris. Would you like me to let you know about him?"

She hesitated a minute.

"If he's in any real want I'm prepared to help him a little. I'd send you a certain sum of money, and you could give it him gradually, as he needed it. "

"That's very good of you, " I said.

But I knew it was not kindness that prompted the offer. It is not true that suffering ennobles the character; happiness does that sometimes, but suffering, for the most part, makes men petty and vindictive.

以后发生的事说明思特里克兰德太太是一个性格坚强的女人。不论她心里委屈多大，她都没有显露出来。她很聪明，知道老是诉说自己的不幸，人们很快就会厌烦，总是摆着一副可怜相也不会讨人喜欢。每逢她外出作客的时候——因为同情她的遭遇，很多朋友有意地邀请她——，她的举止总是十分得体。她表现得很勇敢，但又不露骨；高高兴兴，但又不惹人生厌；她好象更愿意听别人诉说自己的烦恼而不想议论她自己的不幸。每逢谈到自己丈夫的时候，她总是表示很可怜他。她对他的这种态度最初使我感到困惑。有一天她对我说：

“你知道，你告诉我说查理斯一个人在巴黎，你肯定是弄错了。根据我听到的消息——我不能告诉你这消息的来源——，我知道他不是独自离开英国的。”

“要是这样的话，他真可以说是不露行迹，简直是个天才了。”

思特里克兰德太太的目光避开了我，脸有些发红。

“我的意思是说，如果有人同你谈论这件事，要是说他是同哪个女人私奔的话，你用不着辩驳。”

“当然我不辩驳。”

她改换了话题，好象刚才说的是一件无关紧要的小事。不久我就发现，在她的朋友中间流传着一个奇怪的故事。她们说查理斯·思特里克兰德迷恋上一个法国女舞蹈家，他是在帝国大剧院看芭蕾舞首次见到这个女人的，后来就同她一起去巴黎了。我无法知道这个故事怎么会流传起来，但是奇怪的是，它为思特里克兰德太太赚得了人们不少同情，同时也使她的名望增加了不少。这对她决定今后从事的行业很有一些好处。麦克安德鲁上校当初说她手头分文不名并没有夸大。她需要尽快地找一条谋生之道。她决定利用一下她认识不少作家这一有利地位，一点儿没耽搁时间就开始学起速记和打字来。她受的教育会使她从事这一行业高于一般打字人员，她的遭遇也能为她招徕不少主顾。朋友们都答应给她拿活儿来，而且还要尽心把她推荐给各自的相识。

麦克安德鲁夫妇没有子女，生活条件又很优裕，就担当下抚养着她子女的事，思特里克兰德太太只需要维持自己一个人的生活就够了。她把住房租了出去，卖掉了家具，在威斯敏斯特附近找了两间小房安置下来。她重新把生活安排好。她非常能干，她决心兴办的这个买卖一定会成功的。

这件事过去大约五年之后，我决定到巴黎去住一个时期。伦敦我实在待腻了；天天做的事几乎一模一样，使我感到厌烦得要命。我的朋友们过着老一套的生活，平淡无奇，再也引不起我的好奇心了。有时候我们见了面，不待他们开口，我就知道他们要说什么话。就连他们的桃色事件也都是枯燥乏味的老一套。我们这些人就象从终点站到终点站往返行驶的有轨电车，连乘客的数目也能估计个八九不离十。生活被安排得太有秩序了。我觉得简直太可怕了。我退掉了我的小住房，卖掉为数不多的几件家具，决定开始另外一种生活。

临行以前我到思特里克兰德太太家去辞行。我有不少日子没同她见面了，我发现她有不少的变化，不仅人变得老了、瘦了，皱纹比以前多了，就连性格我觉得都有些改变。她的事业很兴旺，这时在昌塞里街开了一个事务所。她自己打字不多，时间主要用在校改她雇用的四名女打字员的打字稿上。她想尽办法把稿件打得非常讲究，很多地方使用蓝色和红色的字带，打好的稿件用各种浅颜色的粗纸装订起来，乍一看仿佛是带波纹的绸子。她给人打的稿件以整齐精确闻名，生意很能赚钱。但是尽管如此，她却认为自己谋生糊口有失身份，总有些抬不起头来。同别人谈话的时候，她忘不了向对方表白自己的高贵出身，动不动就提到她认识的一些人物，叫你知道她的社会地位一点儿没有降低。对自已经营打字行业的胆略和见识她不好意思多谈，但是一说起第二天晚上要在一位家住南肯星顿的皇家法律顾问那里吃晚饭，却总是眉飞色舞。她很愿意告诉你她儿子在剑桥大学读书的事；讲起她女儿刚刚步入社交界，一参加舞会就应接不暇时，她总是得意地笑了起来。我觉得我在和她聊天的时候问了一句蠢话。

“她要不要到你开的这个打字所里做点儿事？”

“啊，不，我不让她做这个，”思特里克兰德太太回答，“她长得很漂亮，我认为她一定能结一门好亲事。”

“那对你将会有很大的帮助，我早该想到的。”

“有人建议叫她上舞台，但是我当然不会同意。所有有名的戏剧家我都认识，只要我肯张嘴，马上就能给她在戏里派个角色，但是我不愿意她同杂七杂八的人混在一起。”

思特里克兰德太太这种孤芳自赏的态度叫我心里有点儿发凉。

“你听到过你丈夫的什么消息吗？”

“没有，什么也没有听到过。说不定他已经死了。”

“我在巴黎可能遇见他。如果我知道他什么消息，你要不要我告诉你。”

她犹豫了一会儿。

“如果他的生活真的贫困不堪，我还是准备帮助帮助他。我会给你寄一笔钱去，在他需要的时候，你可以一点一点地给他。”

但是我知道她答应做这件事并不是出于仁慈的心肠。有人说灾难不幸可以使人性高贵，这句话并不对；叫人做出高尚行动的有时候反而是幸福得意，灾难不幸在大多数情况下只能使人们变得心胸狭小、报复心更强。