Perhaps Helen herself was of the same opinion. The baby was given up more and more to Rhoda’s care, while its mother went freely to the villagers’ houses. She was one of those women to whom admiration2 is as necessary as their daily food. Her pleasure in her own loveliness amused while it saddened her cousin. There was something in it that seemed akin3 to the delight of a child in its fine clothes.[38] Helen’s mind had never grown with her body. But Rhoda and the others had got into the habit of viewing her weaknesses indulgently. And they gratified the little fancies that were, as a rule, harmless enough.
They had their first disagreement at the end of August. There was an early harvest that year. In the southern counties most of the wheat was cut and stacked before September set in. The crops were plentiful4, and there was rejoicing on all sides. But it was not always the right kind of rejoicing.
“It’s a strange way that some folks have got of thanking the Lord of the harvest,” remarked Farmer Farren one day. [39]“He gives them bread enough to satisfy all their wants, and they must needs show their gratitude5 by stupefying themselves with beer! I used to think, when I was a lad, that ’twas an odd thing for King David to go a-dancing before the Almighty6 with all his might. But there’s more sense in dancing than in drinking for joy.”
Father and daughter stood side by side, leaning against the garden wall; for it was evening, and the farmer’s work was done. Just before he spoke7, some drunken shouts disturbed the quiet air. Labourers were roystering in the village tavern8, and many a wife’s temper was sorely tried that night.
“O Uncle, I am glad you don’t think it’s wrong to dance!” cried Helen, coming suddenly out of the house. “Here’s good news! Squire9 Derrick is going to give a feast in his park next Friday. I know that John can’t go, because of his sprained10 ankle; but William Gill will drive us to the park in his chaise. There’ll be room for Rhoda and me and Mrs. Gill.”
“But, Helen, I don’t go to merry-makings,” said Rhoda, gravely. [40]“We have never taken part in anything of that kind. And as to father’s remark, King David’s sort of dancing was very different from the waltzes and polkas and galops that there will be on Friday night.”
Helen’s face clouded like that of a disappointed child.
“O Uncle, would there be any harm in my dancing?” she asked.
“No harm exactly, my girl,” responded the farmer uneasily, as he picked a piece of dry moss11 off the wall. “But even when things are lawful12, they are not always expedient13. You are a married woman, you see, and your husband’s under a cloud, and miles away—poor fellow!”
“Ah!” sighed Helen, “I’m always doomed14 to suffer for his sins! I thought that perhaps a little bit of fun would help me to forget my troubles.”
Poor Helen was still grovelling15 at the foot of her mountain.
Large tears stood in her soft eyes. The farmer gave her a quick glance, then looked away, and busied himself with the little cushion of moss that still lay in his broad palm. At heart he was more than half a Puritan, and hated jigs16 and feastings as lustily[41] as did the Gideons and Grace-be-heres of Cromwell’s day. But he was far too tender-natured a man to bear the sight of a woman’s tears.
But for that unfortunate allusion17 which her father had made to Robert Clarris, Rhoda would have set her face as a flint against going to the fête. But his tone of pity stirred up all her old resentment18. Why was this young wife, lovely and foolish, left without her lawful protector? Had she not said truly that she was doomed to suffer for his sins? After all, it was scarcely her fault, perhaps, that she was not elevated by her trial. To “erect ourselves above ourselves” is a bliss19 that we do not all reach. And it is a bliss which bears such a close relationship to pain, that one has no right to be hard on a fellow-mortal who chooses the lower ground.
Thoughts like these were passing through Rhoda’s mind, while Helen still wept silently. But it did not occur to Miss Farren that the[42] truest kindness that can be done to another is to raise him. She forgot that it is better to stretch out a hand and say, “Friend, come up higher,” than to step down to his level. At that moment she thought only of pacifying20 Helen. Of late her cousin had grown very dear to her, partly, perhaps, for the sake of her little child. Her whole soul recoiled21 from the harvest-feast. She hated the clownish merriment, and the dancing and drinking; and yet, to please Helen, she was willing to endure much that was distasteful.
“If you would promise not to dance, Helen,” she began, hesitatingly. Her father looked up in undisguised astonishment22.
“Why, Rhoda,” he said, “I didn’t think anything in the world would have made you go!”
“O Rhoda, how good of you to give way!” cried Helen, brightening. [43]“Of course I’ll promise. It’s just like her, Uncle: she was always the most unselfish girl on earth! She doesn’t despise me because I’m weak-minded, and like a little bit of pleasure. Ah, how kind she is!”
The farmer said no more. He had a great reverence23 for his daughter, and would not take the matter out of her hands. But he went indoors with a grave face; and Helen followed him in a flutter of delight.
As Rhoda lingered that evening in the dewy twilight24, she began to charge herself with cowardice25. It would have been hard to have held out against Helen’s desires. And yet—for Helen’s own sake—ought she not to have been firm? Most of us suffer if we stifle26 our instincts; and hers had told her that this feast was no place for her cousin.
“It shall be the last time that I am weak,” she thought, hoping to atone27 for the present by the future. “I will let her have her way this once, and then I will set myself to guide her in a better path.”
The grey, transparent28 veil of dusk stole down, and the clear stars shone through it. A little wind came creeping up the garden[44] like a human sigh. One or two white moths29 flitted past, and a bird uttered a sleepy, smothered30 note. For a minute she loitered in the porch, listening to the pleasant, household stir within. Helen’s laugh mingled31 with John’s cheery tones and the clatter32 of supper-plates.
“Where is Rhoda?” she heard her mother say.
The jessamine, which grew all over the porch, swung its slender sprays into her face. The sweet, chill blossoms kissed her lips as she passed beneath them; but she went indoors with an unquiet mind.
点击收听单词发音
1 plaintive | |
adj.可怜的,伤心的 | |
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2 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
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3 akin | |
adj.同族的,类似的 | |
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4 plentiful | |
adj.富裕的,丰富的 | |
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5 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
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6 almighty | |
adj.全能的,万能的;很大的,很强的 | |
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7 spoke | |
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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8 tavern | |
n.小旅馆,客栈;小酒店 | |
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9 squire | |
n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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10 sprained | |
v.&n. 扭伤 | |
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11 moss | |
n.苔,藓,地衣 | |
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12 lawful | |
adj.法律许可的,守法的,合法的 | |
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13 expedient | |
adj.有用的,有利的;n.紧急的办法,权宜之计 | |
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14 doomed | |
命定的 | |
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15 grovelling | |
adj.卑下的,奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节,奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 );趴 | |
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16 jigs | |
n.快步舞(曲)极快地( jig的名词复数 );夹具v.(使)上下急动( jig的第三人称单数 ) | |
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17 allusion | |
n.暗示,间接提示 | |
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18 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
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19 bliss | |
n.狂喜,福佑,天赐的福 | |
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20 pacifying | |
使(某人)安静( pacify的现在分词 ); 息怒; 抚慰; 在(有战争的地区、国家等)实现和平 | |
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21 recoiled | |
v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 );退缩;报应;返回 | |
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22 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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23 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
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24 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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25 cowardice | |
n.胆小,怯懦 | |
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26 stifle | |
vt.使窒息;闷死;扼杀;抑止,阻止 | |
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27 atone | |
v.赎罪,补偿 | |
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28 transparent | |
adj.明显的,无疑的;透明的 | |
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29 moths | |
n.蛾( moth的名词复数 ) | |
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30 smothered | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
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31 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
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32 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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