Mrs. Dix was sitting in the back seat of the carryall with Mrs. Dodge2. The two girls were in front. Lydia noticed mechanically that both were freshly gowned in white and that Fanny, who was driving, eyed her with haughty3 reserve from under the brim of her flower-laden hat. Ellen Dix had turned her head to gaze after Jim Dodge's retreating figure; her eyes returned to Lydia with an expression of sulky reluctance4.
“I'm so glad to see you,” said Lydia. “Won't you come in?”
“I should like to,” said Mrs. Dodge. “Jim has been telling us about the improvements, all along.”
“It certainly does look nice,” chimed in Mrs. Dix. “I wouldn't have believed it possible, in such a little time, too. Just cramp5 that wheel a little more, Fanny.”
The two older women descended6 from the carryall and began looking eagerly around.
“Just see how nice the grass looks,” said Mrs. Dodge. “And the flowers! My! I didn't suppose Jim was that smart at fixing things up.... Aren't you going to get out, girls?”
The two girls still sat on the high front seat of the carryall; both were gazing at Lydia in her simple morning frock. There were no flowers on Lydia's Panama hat; nothing but a plain black band; but it had an air of style and elegance7. Fanny was wishing she had bought a plain hat without roses. Ellen tossed her dark head:
“I don't know,” she said. “You aren't going to stay long; are you, mother?”
“For pity sake, Ellen!” expostulated Mrs. Dodge briskly. “Of course you'll get out, and you, too, Fanny. The horse'll stand.”
“Please do!” entreated8 Lydia.
Thus urged, the girls reluctantly descended. Neither was in the habit of concealing9 her feelings under the convenient cloak of society observance, and both were jealously suspicious of Lydia Orr. Fanny had met her only the week before, walking with Wesley Elliot along the village street. And Mrs. Solomon Black had told Mrs. Fulsom, and Mrs. Fulsom had told Mrs. Deacon Whittle10, and Mrs. Whittle had told another woman, who had felt it to be her Christian11 duty (however unpleasant) to inform Fanny that the minister was “payin' attention to Miss Orr.”
“Of course,” the woman had pointed12 out, “it wasn't to be wondered at, special, seeing the Orr girl had every chance in the world to catch him—living right in the same house with him.” Then she had further stated her opinions of men in general for Fanny's benefit. All persons of the male sex, according to this woman, were easily put upon, deceived and otherwise led astray by artful young women from the city, who were represented as perpetually on the lookout13 for easy marks, like Wesley Elliot.
“He ain't any different from other men, if he is a minister,” said she with a comprehensive sniff14. “They're all alike, as far as I can find out: anybody that's a mind to soft-soap them and flatter them into thinkin' they're something great can lead them right around by the nose. And besides, she's got money!”
Fanny had affected15 a haughty indifference16 to the doings of Wesley Elliot, which did not for a moment deceive her keen-eyed informer.
“Of course, anybody with eyes in their heads can see what's taken place,” compassionated17 she, impaling18 the unfortunate Fanny on the prongs of her sympathy. “My! I was telling George only yesterday, I thought it was a perfect shame! and somebody ought to speak out real plain to the minister.”
Whereat Fanny had been goaded19 into wishing the woman would mind her own business! She did wish everybody would leave her and her affairs alone! People had no right to talk! As for speaking to the minister; let any one dare—!
As for Ellen Dix, she had never quite forgiven Lydia for innocently acquiring the fox skin and she had by now almost persuaded herself that she was passionately20 in love with Jim Dodge. She had always liked him—at least, she had not actively21 disliked him, as some of the other girls professed22 to do. She had found his satirical tongue, his keen eyes and his real or affected indifference to feminine wiles23 pleasantly stimulating24. There was some fun in talking to Jim Dodge. But of late she had not been afforded the opportunity. Fanny had explained to Ellen that Jim was working terribly hard, often rising at three and four in the morning to work on his own farm, and putting in long days at the Bolton place.
“She seems to have most of the men in Brookville doing for her,” Ellen had remarked coldly.
Then the girls had exchanged cautious glances.
“There's something awfully25 funny about her coming here, anyway,” said Ellen. “Everybody thinks it's queer.”
“I expect she had a reason,” said Fanny, avoiding Ellen's eyes.
After which brief interchange of opinion they had twined their arms about each other's waists and squeezed wordless understanding and sympathy. Henceforth, it was tacitly understood between the two girls that singly and collectively they did not “like” Lydia Orr.
Lydia understood without further explanation that she was not to look to her nearest neighbors for either friendship or the affection she so deeply craved27. Both Ellen and Fanny had passed the place every day since its restoration began; but not once had either betrayed the slightest interest or curiosity in what was going on beyond the barrier of the hedge. To be sure, Fanny had once stopped to speak to her brother; but when Lydia had hurried hopefully out to greet her it was only to catch a glimpse of the girl's back as she walked quickly away.
Jim Dodge had explained, with some awkwardness, that Fanny was in a hurry....
“Well, now, I'll tell you, Miss Orr,” Mrs. Dix was saying, as all five women walked slowly toward the house. “I was talking with Abby Daggett, and she was telling me about your wanting to get back the old furniture that used to be in the house. It seems Henry Daggett has put up a notice in the post office; but so far, he says, not very many pieces have been heard from. You know the men-folks generally go after the mail, and men are slow; there's no denying that. As like as not they haven't even mentioned seeing the notice to the folks at home.”
“That's so,” confirmed Mrs. Dodge, nodding her head. “I don't know as Jim would ever tell us anything that happened from morning till night. We just have to pump things out of him; don't we, Fanny? He'd never tell without we did. His father was just the same.”
Fanny looked annoyed, and Ellen squeezed her arm with an amused giggle28.
“I didn't know, mother, there was anything we wanted to know, particularly,” she said coldly.
“Well, you know both of us have been real interested in the work here,” protested Mrs. Dodge, wonderingly. “I remember you was asking Jim only last night if Miss Orr was really going to—”
“I hope you'll like to see the house,” said Lydia, as if she had not heard; “of course, being here every day I don't notice the changes as you might.”
“You aren't living here yet, are you?” asked Mrs. Dix. “I understood Mrs. Solomon Black to say you weren't going to leave her for awhile yet.”
“No; I shall be there nights and Sundays till everything is finished here,” said Lydia. “Mrs. Black makes me very comfortable.”
“Well, I think most of us ladies had ought to give you a vote of thanks on account of feeding the men-folks, noons,” put in Mrs. Dodge. “It saves a lot of time not to have to look after a dinner-pail.”
“Mother,” interrupted Fanny in a thin, sharp voice, quite unlike her own, “you know Jim always comes home to his dinner.”
“Well, what if he does; I was speaking for the rest of th' women,” said Mrs. Dodge. “I'm sure it's very kind of Miss Orr to think of such a thing as cooking a hot dinner for all those hungry men.”
Mrs. Dodge had received a second check from the assignees that very morning from the sale of the old bank building, and she was proportionately cheerful and content.
“Well; if this isn't handsome!” cried Mrs. Dix, pausing in the hall to look about her. “I declare I'd forgotten how it used to look. This is certainly better than having an old ruin standing26 here. But, of course it brings back old days.”
She sighed, her dark, comely29 face clouding with sorrow.
“You know,” she went on, turning confidentially30 to Lydia, “that dreadful bank failure was the real cause of my poor husband's death. He never held up his head after that. They suspected at first he was implicated31 in the steal. But Mr. Dix wasn't anything like Andrew Bolton. No; indeed! He wouldn't have taken a cent that belonged to anybody else—not if he was to die for it!”
“That's so,” confirmed Mrs. Dodge. “What Andrew Bolton got was altogether too good for him. Come right down to it, he wasn't no better than a murderer!”
And she nodded her head emphatically.
Fanny and Ellen, who stood looking on, reddened impatiently at this:
“I'm sick and tired of hearing about Andrew Bolton,” complained Ellen. “I've heard nothing else since I can remember. It's a pity you bought this house, Miss Orr: I heard Mr. Elliot say it was like stirring up a horrid32, muddy pool. Not very complimentary33 to Brookville; but then—”
“Don't you think people will—forget after a while?” asked Lydia, her blue eyes fixed34 appealingly on the two young faces. “I don't see why everybody should—”
“Well, if you'd fixed the house entirely35 different,” said Mrs. Dix. “But having it put back, just as it was, and wanting the old furniture and all—whatever put that into your head, my dear?”
“I heard it was handsome and old—I like old things. And, of course, it was—more in keeping to restore the house as it was, than to—”
“Well, I s'pose that's so,” conceded Mrs. Dodge, her quick dark eyes busy with the renovated36 interior. “I'd sort of forgot how it did look when the Boltons was livin' here. But speaking of furniture; I see Mrs. Judge Fulsom let you have the old sofa. I remember she got it at the auction37; she's kept it in her parlor38 ever since.”
“Yes,” said Lydia. “I was only too happy to give a hundred dollars for the sofa. It has been excellently preserved.”
“A hundred dollars!” echoed Mrs. Dix. “Well!”
Mrs. Dodge giggled39 excitedly, like a young girl.
“A hundred dollars!” she repeated. “Well, I want to know!”
The two women exchanged swift glances.
“You wouldn't want to buy any pieces that had been broke, I s'pose,” suggested Mrs. Dodge.
“If they can be repaired, I certainly do,” replied Lydia.
“Mother!” expostulated Fanny, in a low but urgent tone. “Ellen and I—we really ought to be going.”
The girl's face glowed with shamed crimson40. She felt haughty and humiliated41 and angry all at once. It was not to be borne.
Mrs. Dix was not listening to Fanny Dodge.
“I bid in the big, four-post mahogany bed at the auction,” she said, “and the bureau to match; an' I believe there are two or three chairs about the house.”
“We've got a table,” chimed in Mrs. Dodge; “but one leg give away, an' I had it put up in the attic42 years ago. And Fanny's got a bed and bureau in her room that was painted white, with little pink flowers tied up with blue ribbons. Of course the paint is pretty well rubbed off; but—”
“Oh, might I have that set?” cried Lydia, turning to Fanny. “Perhaps you've grown fond of it and won't want to give it up. But I—I'd pay almost anything for it. And of course I shall want the mahogany, too.”
“Well, we didn't know,” explained Mrs. Dix, with dignity. “We got those pieces instead of the money we'd ought to have had from the estate. There was a big crowd at the auction, I remember; but nobody really wanted to pay anything for the old furniture. A good deal of it had come out of folks' attics43 in the first place.”
“I shall be glad to pay three hundred dollars for the mahogany bed and bureau,” said Lydia. “And for the little white set—”
“I don't care to part with my furniture,” said Fanny Dodge, her pretty round chin uplifted.
She was taller than Lydia, and appeared to be looking over her head with an intent stare at the freshly papered wall beyond.
“For pity sake!” exclaimed her mother sharply. “Why, Fanny, you could buy a brand new set, an' goodness knows what-all with the money. What's the matter with you?”
“I know just how Fanny feels about having her room changed,” put in Ellen Dix, with a spirited glance at the common enemy. “There are things that money can't buy, but some people don't seem to think so.”
Lydia's blue eyes had clouded swiftly.
“If you'll come into the library,” she said, “we'll have some lemonade. It's so very warm I'm sure we are all thirsty.”
She did not speak of the furniture again, and after a little the visitors rose to go. Mrs. Dodge lingered behind the others to whisper:
“I'm sure I don't know what got into my Fanny. Only the other day she was wishing she might have her room done over, with new furniture and all. I'll try and coax44 her.”
But Lydia shook her head.
“Please don't,” she said. “I want that furniture very much; but—I know there are things money can't buy.”
“Mebbe you wouldn't want it, if you was t' see it,” was Mrs. Dodge's honest opinion. “It's all turned yellow, an' the pink flowers are mostly rubbed off. I remember it was real pretty when we first got it. It used to belong to Mrs. Bolton's little girl. I don't know as anybody's told you, but they had a little girl. My! what an awful thing for a child to grow up to! I've often thought of it. But mebbe she didn't live to grow up. None of us ever heard.”
“Mother!” called Fanny, from the front seat of the carryall. “We're waiting for you.”
“In a minute, Fanny,” said Mrs. Dodge.... “Of course you can have that table I spoke45 of, Miss Orr, and anything else I can find in the attic, or around. An' I was thinking if you was to come down to the Ladies' Aid on Friday afternoon—it meets at Mrs. Mixter's this week, at two o'clock; you know where Mrs. Mixter lives, don't you? Well; anyway, Mrs. Solomon Black does, an' she generally comes. But I know lots of the ladies has pieces of that furniture; and most of them would be mighty46 glad to get rid of it. But they are like my Fanny—kind of contrary, and backward about selling things. I'll talk to Fanny when we get home. Why, she don't any more want that old painted set—”
“Mother!” Fanny's sweet angry voice halted the rapid progress of her mother's speech for an instant.
“I shouldn't wonder if the flies was bothering th' horse,” surmised47 Mrs. Dodge; “he does fidget an' stamp somethin' terrible when the flies gets after him; his tail ain't so long as some.... Well, I'll let you know; and if you could drop around and see the table and all— Yes, some day this week. Of course I'll have to buy new furniture to put in their places; so will Mrs. Dix. But I will say that mahogany bed is handsome; they've got it in their spare room, and there ain't a scratch on it. I can guarantee that.... Yes; I guess the flies are bad today; looks like rain. Good-by!”
Lydia stood watching the carryall, as it moved away from under the milk-white pillars of the restored portico48. Why did Fanny Dodge and Ellen Dix dislike her, she wondered, and what could she do to win their friendship? Her troubled thoughts were interrupted by Martha, the taciturn maid.
“I found this picture on the floor, Miss Lydia,” said Martha; “did you drop it?”
Lydia glanced at the small, unmounted photograph. It was a faded snapshot of a picnic party under a big tree. Her eyes became at once riveted49 upon the central figures of the little group; the pretty girl in the middle was Fanny Dodge; and behind her—yes, surely, that was the young clergyman, Wesley Elliot. Something in the attitude of the man and the coquettish upward tilt50 of the girl's face brought back to her mind a forgotten remark of Mrs. Solomon Black's. Lydia had failed to properly understand it, at the time. Mrs. Solomon Black was given to cryptic51 remarks, and Lydia's mind had been preoccupied52 by the increasing difficulties which threatened the accomplishment53 of her purpose:
“A person, coming into a town like Brookville to live, by rights had ought to have eyes in the backs of their heads,” Mrs. Black had observed.
It was at breakfast time, Lydia now remembered, and the minister was late, as frequently happened.
“I thought like's not nobody would mention it to you,” Mrs. Black had further elucidated54. “Of course he wouldn't say anything, men-folks are kind of sly and secret in their doings—even the best of 'em; and you'll find it's so, as you travel along life's path-way.”
Mrs. Black had once written a piece of poetry and it had actually been printed in the Grenoble News; since then she frequently made use of figures of speech.
“A married woman and a widow can speak from experience,” she went on. “So I thought I'd just tell you: he's as good as engaged, already.”
“Do you mean Mr. Elliot?” asked Lydia incuriously.
Mrs. Black nodded.
“I thought you ought to know,” she said.
Mr. Elliot had entered the room upon the heels of this warning, and Lydia had promptly55 forgotten it. Now she paused for a swift review of the weeks which had already passed since her arrival. Mr. Elliot had been unobtrusively kind and helpful from the first, she remembered. Later, he had been indefatigable56 in the matter of securing workmen for the restoration of the old house, when she made it clear to him that she did not want an architect and preferred to hire Brookville men exclusively. As seemed entirely natural, the minister had called frequently to inspect the progress of the work. Twice in their rounds together they had come upon Jim Dodge; and although the clergyman was affable in his recognition and greeting, Lydia had been unpleasantly surprised by the savage57 look on her landscape-gardener's face as he returned the polite salutation.
“Don't you like Mr. Elliot?” she had ventured to inquire, after the second disagreeable incident of the sort.
Jim Dodge had treated her to one of his dark-browed, incisive58 glances before replying.
“I'm afraid I can't answer that question satisfactorily, Miss Orr,” was what he said.
And Lydia, wondering, desisted from further question.
“That middle one looks some like one of the young ladies that was here this morning,” observed Martha, with the privileged familiarity of an old servant.
“She must have dropped it,” said Lydia, slowly.
“The young ladies here in the country has very bad manners,” commented Martha, puckering59 her lips primly60. “I wouldn't put myself out for them, if I was you, mem.”
Lydia turned the picture over and gazed abstractedly at the three words written there: “Lest we forget!” Beneath this pertinent61 quotation62 appeared the initials “W. E.”
“If it was for me to say,” went on Martha, in an injured tone, “I'd not be for feedin' up every man, woman and child that shows their face inside the grounds. Why, they don't appreciate it no more than—”
The woman's eloquent63 gesture appeared to include the blue-bottle fly buzzing noisily on the window-pane:
“Goodness gracious! if these flies ain't enough to drive a body crazy—what with the new paint and all....”
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收听单词发音
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1
gadding
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| n.叮搔症adj.蔓生的v.闲逛( gad的现在分词 )；游荡；找乐子；用铁棒刺 | |
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dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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whittle
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| v.削（木头），削减；n.屠刀 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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14
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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15
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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compassionated
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| v.同情（compassionate的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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impaling
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| 钉在尖桩上( impale的现在分词 ) | |
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goaded
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| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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wiles
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| n.（旨在欺骗或吸引人的）诡计，花招；欺骗，欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
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24
stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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29
comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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implicated
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| adj.密切关联的；牵涉其中的 | |
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32
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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renovated
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| 翻新，修复，整修( renovate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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41
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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attics
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| n. 阁楼 | |
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44
coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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45
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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46
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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48
portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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49
riveted
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| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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51
cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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52
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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53
accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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54
elucidated
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| v.阐明，解释( elucidate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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56
indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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57
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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58
incisive
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| adj.敏锐的，机敏的，锋利的，切入的 | |
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59
puckering
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的现在分词 )；小褶纹；小褶皱 | |
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primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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pertinent
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| adj.恰当的；贴切的；中肯的；有关的；相干的 | |
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62
quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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