“Isn’t it handsome!” asked Helen’s voice behind her.
“I hope you are not thinking of wearing it this evening,” said Rhoda. “It’s a most unsuitable dress for a country merry-making. Do put on something plainer, Helen.”
“O Rhoda,” she pleaded, [46]“I am not like you; I can’t abide5 browns and greys! I want to be dressed as the flowers are! You loved the lilacs when they were in bloom; why may I not copy them?”
“Their dress costs nothing,” said Rhoda, “and the silk is a poor imitation of them. Even Solomon in all his glory wasn’t arrayed like the lilies of the field. This gown must have been very expensive, Helen.”
“It is the best I have,” answered Helen, flushing slightly. “I should like to give it an airing, Rhoda. I own I am fond of fine clothes, but you are so kind that you won’t be angry with a poor silly thing like me!”
Again Rhoda’s strength was no match for her cousin’s weakness. She went out of the room without saying another word about the lilac silk. An hour or two later William Gill’s chaise stopped at the gate, and Helen came downstairs. She was enveloped6 in a large cloak which completely hid her dress from the eyes of her uncle and aunt. Her face was flushed; she was in high spirits. William[47] Gill—a prosperous young farmer—looked sheepishly pleased as she seated herself by his side.
Rhoda sat on the back seat with Mrs. Gill. It was a still, sultry evening. The languor7 of the waning8 summer seemed to have stolen upon her unawares, and the good woman found her a dull companion. Mrs. Gill was proud of her son, proud of his fine horse, a fiery9 young chestnut10, proud of the chaise, which had been newly painted and varnished11. But these subjects had little interest for Miss Farren. And the worthy12 matron became convinced that she was giving herself airs on the strength of her annuity13. By the time they had reached the foot of Huntsdean hill, she was as silent as Rhoda could desire.
The church clock was striking seven as they turned in at the gates of Dykeley Park. Groups of people were scattered14 about under the trees. The hall door of Dykeley House stood open, and the sound of music swept forth15 into the evening air. Out of doors[48] there was the crimson16 of sunset staining the skies, reddening the faces of the countryfolk, and lighting17 up the west front of the old mansion18, till its red bricks seemed to burn among the dark ivy19 and overblown white roses. Quiet pools, lying here and there about the park, glittered as if the old Cana miracle had been wrought20 upon them, and their waters were changed to wine. The colour was too intense, too fiery. It made Rhoda think of burning cities, or of the glare of beacons21, blazing up to warn the land that the foe22 had crossed the border.
Squire23 Derrick’s old banqueting hall had been cleared out for the dancers. The squire himself, a bachelor of sixty, received his guests as Sir Roger de Coverley might have done. Rhoda saw his eyes rest on beautiful Helen in the lilac silk, and his glance followed her wonderingly as she went sweeping24 away to a distant part of the great room. Other looks followed her too.
Nor could Rhoda keep her own gaze from[49] dwelling25 on her companion. When the long cloak had been laid aside, and Helen appeared in the lighted room, her cousin could hardly restrain an exclamation26. There were jewels on her wrists and bosom27, jewels on the white fingers that flashed when she took off her gloves to display them. A miserable28 sense of shame and confusion overwhelmed Miss Farren. Here was Helen bedizened like a Begum, and here were many of the Huntsdean folk who knew her husband’s story! The air seemed full of whispers. Rhoda grew hot beneath the broad stare of eyes. Yet few glanced at her; the brown wren29, reluctantly perched beside the glittering peacock, was sheltered from observation.
The musicians struck up a lively tune30, and then Rhoda saw that there were several gay young officers in the room. They had come, by the squire’s invitation, from the neighbouring garrison31 town, and were evidently prepared to enjoy themselves.
She was scarcely surprised to see two or[50] three of them bearing down upon Helen, bent32 on securing her for a partner. She heard their entreaties33, and Helen’s denials—very prettily34 uttered. But at that moment an old friend of Farmer Farren’s crossed the room, and gave Rhoda a hearty35 greeting. Then followed a score of questions about herself and her parents, and in the midst of them Rhoda heard Helen’s voice saying—
“Only one dance, Rhoda; you’ll forgive me, I know.”
Rhoda started, and half rose from her seat. Such a distressed36 and angry look crossed her face that the old farmer was astonished. Helen had gone off on her partner’s arm. It was too late to call her back. She must take it as quietly as she could, and avoid making a scene.
“Who is that lovely young woman? Any relation of yours, Miss Farren?” asked the old man by her side.
“My cousin,” Rhoda answered.
Several persons near were listening for her[51] reply. Rhoda hoped that her questioner would drop the subject, but he did not.
“Let me see; didn’t I know her when she was a child in your father’s house?”
“Very likely,” Rhoda said. “She used to live with us when she was a little girl.”
“And did I hear that she had married?” he persisted.
“She is married,” said Rhoda, desperately37. “Her husband is in Australia.”
Obtuse38 as he was, the old gentleman could yet perceive that he had touched upon an awkward topic. Poor Rhoda was a bad actress. Her face always betrayed her feelings. She sat bolt upright against the wall, looking so intensely uncomfortable that her companion quitted her in dismay.
There she remained for three long hours; sometimes catching39 a glimpse of the lilac silk among the dancers. From fragments of talk that went on around her, she learned that Helen was the centre of attention. And at last, when a galop was over, and the groups parted[52] to left and right, she caught sight of her cousin surrounded by the officers.
She now saw Helen under a new aspect. Her looks and gestures were those of a practised coquette, who had spent half her life in ball-rooms. People were looking on—smiling, whispering, wondering. The squire himself was evidently amused and astonished. Even if she had been less beautiful, Helen’s dress and jewellery would have attracted general notice. It was, perhaps, the most miserable evening that Rhoda had ever passed. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” was the question that she asked herself a hundred times. Was she indeed to blame for suffering Helen to come to this place? The music and dancing and flattering speeches had fired Helen’s blood like wine. The gaiety that would have been innocuous to many was poisonous to her.
At last a loud gong sounded the summons to supper. The repast was spread in a large tent which had been erected40 in the park. Out swept the crowd into the balmy August night,[53] Helen still clinging to the arm of her last partner, and carefully avoiding a glance in her cousin’s direction. Rhoda strove in vain to get nearer to her; the press was too great. But she contrived41 to reach William Gill, and to say to him earnestly—
“We must go away as soon as supper is over, Mr. Gill. I promised father that we would come back early.” The moon had risen, large and red, and the night was perfectly42 still. Chinese lanterns illuminated43 the great supper-tent from end to end. Flowers and evergreens44, mingled45 with wheat ears, decorated the long tables. The light fell on rows of flushed and smiling faces. Rhoda, pale and sad, sat down on the end of a bench close to the tent entrance.
“I’m ’most worn out,” said Mrs. Gill’s voice beside her. [54]“I’m downright glad that you’re for going home early, Miss Farren. Old women like me are better a-bed than a-junketing at this time o’ night! Mercy on us, how your cousin has been a-going on, my dear! And brought up so strict too!”
The words cut Rhoda like a knife. There she sat, lonely and miserable, amid a merry crowd. The golden moonshine flooded the park, and the sweet air kissed her face as she turned it wearily towards the tent-entrance. Once a sudden rush of perfume came in and overwhelmed her. It was the breath of the fast fading roses that hung in white clusters about the squire’s windows, and shed their petals46 on the ground below.
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1
profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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8
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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varnished
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| 浸渍过的，涂漆的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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annuity
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| n.年金；养老金 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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17
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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beacons
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| 灯塔( beacon的名词复数 )； 烽火； 指路明灯； 无线电台或发射台 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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wren
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| n.鹪鹩；英国皇家海军女子服务队成员 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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32
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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34
prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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obtuse
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| adj.钝的；愚钝的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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40
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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41
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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42
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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43
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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44
evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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45
mingled
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| 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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46
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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