“Sorry I can’t ask you in, Jack5,” he said. “The kitchen is a pretty large one, but when Ellice starts bread-making, there isn’t a spot one can sit down in. Of course, we’ve another living-room—I furnished it rather nicely—but for some reason we seldom use it.”
The mosquito door swung back with a crash and Ellice appeared in the entrance with a hot, angry face, and hands smeared6 with dough7, her hair hanging partly loose in disorder8 about her neck, her skirt ungracefully kilted up.
“Ain’t you goin’ to bring that water? Have I got to wait another hour?” she cried, ignoring Prescott. 36
Jernyngham rose and moved away. Returning, he disappeared into the kitchen with a dripping pail and Ellice’s voice was raised in harsh upbraiding9. Then the man came out, looking a trifle weary, though he sat down by Prescott with a smile.
“These things should be a warning, Jack,” he said. “Still, one has to make allowances; this hot weather’s trying, and Ellice got a letter that disturbed her by the last mail. I didn’t hear what was in it, but I suspect it was a bill.”
Prescott nodded, because he did not know what to say. Mrs. Jernyngham had, he gathered, been unusually fractious for the last week or two, and Cyril was invariably forbearing. Indeed, Prescott sometimes wondered at his patience, for he imagined that his comrade had outgrown10 what love he had borne her. The man had his virtues11: he was rash, but he seldom failed to face the consequences with whimsical good-humor.
“Your friends are going to-morrow,” Prescott told him. “They understand that you will write home and explain your reasons for remaining.”
“I suppose I’ll have to do so, though it will be difficult. You see, to give the reasons that count most would be cruel. If it’s any comfort to my folks to think favorably of me, I’d rather let them. I’ve made a horrible mess of things, but that’s no reason why others should suffer.”
Prescott glanced round at the dilapidated house, the untidy stable, the door of which was falling to pieces, and the wagon12 standing13 with a broken wheel. There was no doubt that Jernyngham was right in one respect.
“Jack,” Cyril resumed, “your manner gives me the impression that you’ll be sorry to lose your visitors.”
“I shall be sorry. I pressed them to stay and I 37 think they’d have done so, only that Mrs. Colston was against it.”
“Ah! That strikes me as significant. You see, I can make a good guess at her motives14; I’ve suffered from that kind of thing. She evidently considers you dangerous. Don’t you feel flattered?”
“Mrs. Colston has no cause for uneasiness; I could wish she had.”
“Then I’m glad my friends are going. It will save you trouble, Jack. A match between Miss Hurst and you is out of the question.”
“I’ve felt that, so far as my merits go, which is the best way I can put it,” said Prescott gravely. “You speak as if there were stronger reasons.”
“There are; I’m a little surprised you don’t see them. Your merits—I suppose you mean your character and appearance—should go a long way; we’ll admit that you’re a man who might have some attraction for even such a girl as Miss Hurst seems to be, if she didn’t pause to think. Unfortunately for you, however, it’s her duty to her relatives to make a brilliant match and I’ve no doubt she recognizes it. Girls of her station—you had better face the truth, Jack—never marry beneath them.”
“But a man may.”
“A fair shot,” laughed Jernyngham. “I can’t resent it. But the man generally suffers, and the price is a heavier one when the girl has to pay. There’s a penalty for breaking caste.”
“You seem to tolerate worse things in the old country.”
“Not often, after all—you hear of the flagrant offenders15, and though I dare say there are others who are not found out, the bulk against whom there’s no reproach, excite no attention. But we’ll let that go. I want you 38 to understand. You’re right, Jack; it’s your position that’s all wrong. Girls of the kind we’re considering are brought up in luxury, taught every accomplishment16 that’s economically useless, led to believe that every comfort they need will somehow be supplied. They’re charming in their proper environment, but it’s a cruelty to take them out of it. They’d be helpless in this grim country, where you must work for all you want and do without many things even then. Can you imagine Miss Hurst standing over a hot stove all day and spending her evenings mending your worn-out shirts?”
Prescott looked up, his face set hard.
“You have said enough.”
There was silence after this, until a big man dressed in old brown overalls18 stopped his horse near-by.
“I’ve fixed19 up with Farrer to send over his gasoline tractor to do the fall breaking,” he said. “Saw the telephone construction people yesterday and told them I’d let them have two teams to haul in their poles. It’s going to pay us better than keeping them for plowing20.”
“Quite right, Wandle,” replied Jernyngham, and the fellow nodded to Prescott and rode away.
He lived on the next half-section and assisted Jernyngham in the management of his ranch22, besides sharing the cost of labor23, implements24 and horses with him, though Prescott had cause for believing that the arrangement was not to his friend’s benefit.
“You’d be better off if you didn’t work with that man,” he said.
“It’s possible,” Jernyngham agreed. “I know he robs me, but he saves me bother. Besides, if we decided25 to separate and came to a settlement, I dare say he would claim that I was in his debt; and he might be right. I’m 39 no good at business. Ranching26 I don’t mind, but I could never learn how to buy and sell.”
“It’s a very useful ability,” Prescott rejoined with some dryness. “But as I want to be home for supper, I must get on.”
He unhitched his horse and mounted, and Jernyngham walked with him to the gate in the wire fence.
“You’ll remember what I told you, Jack,” he said meaningly.
“Yes,” Prescott answered with a stern face. “I suppose I ought to thank you. I’m not likely to forget.”
He rode home and arriving in time for supper took his place at the table with mixed feelings, foremost among which was keen regret. Except for the company of his Scandinavian hired man and the latter’s hard-featured wife, he had lived alone in Spartan27 simplicity28, thinking of nothing but his farm; and his guests’ arrival had revealed to him the narrowness of his life. They had brought him new desires and thoughts, besides recalling ideas he had long forgotten, and among other things had made the evening meal a pleasant function to be looked forward to, instead of an opportunity for hurriedly consuming needed food.
The spotless cloth and the flowers on the table were novelties, but they pleased his eye. Colston with his cheerful, well-bred air and fastidiousness in dress, talked interestingly; Mrs. Colston with her gracious dignity, and Muriel, who was wholly alluring29, seemed to fill the room with charm. It was perhaps all the more enjoyable because Prescott had been accustomed to pleasant society in Montreal, before he abandoned it with other amenities30 and went out to a life of stern toil31 and frugality32 in the grim Northwest. 40
He said little, though it was the last time they would gather tranquilly33 round his board—they were to leave for the railroad early on the morrow. A heavy melancholy34 oppressed him, though bright sunlight streamed into the room and an invigorating breeze swept in through the open window, outside which tall wheat and blue flax rolled away. He could not force himself to talk, though he laughed at Colston’s anecdotes35, and it was a relief when the meal was over. Half an hour later he overtook Muriel strolling along the edge of the wheat.
“Have you recovered yet?” she asked. “You looked very downcast.”
“That’s how I feel. It strikes me as perfectly36 natural. I’ll be alone to-morrow.”
“But you were alone before we came.”
“Very true; I didn’t seem to mind it then. I was happy thinking how I could put in a bigger crop or raise another bunch of stock. My mind was fixed on the plow21. But you have lifted me out of the furrow37. I guess it’s weak, but somehow I hate the thought of going back to the clods.”
Remembering Jernyngham’s remarks, it struck him that this was not the line he should have taken, and for a moment or two Muriel turned her head. Then she looked at him, smiling.
“I shall be very sorry to leave, and I believe Florence and Harry38 feel the same.”
“But you are going to British Columbia and down the Pacific Coast. You will revel39 in new experiences and interesting sights.”
“I suppose so,” she answered, rather listlessly. “We shall get a glimpse of a new country, but that will be all. On the steamers we’ll meet much the kind of people we 41 are accustomed to, and no doubt we’ll stay at hotels built especially for luxurious40 tourists. You see, we take our usual environment along with us.”
“But isn’t that what you like?”
“I don’t know; perhaps it ought to be.” Muriel paused and looked up at him with candid41 eyes. “You hinted that we had given you a new and wider outlook—or brought back the one you used to have, which is what you must have meant. You don’t seem to realize that you have done much the same thing to me.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“It shouldn’t be difficult. You know the kind of people I have hitherto met, and how we spend our time in a round of amusements that lead to nothing, with all that could jar on one carefully kept away. This is the first time I’ve come into touch with strenuous42, normal life.”
“And it doesn’t seem to have frightened you?”
“No,” she said with a smile; “I’m not in the least afraid—why should I be? I must have more courage than you think, but does one need a great deal of it to live here?”
He looked at her in grave admiration43. There was a hint of pride in her pose, and her eyes were calm.
“I believe if ever a time of stress came, you wouldn’t shrink. But this is a pretty hard and lonely country, especially in winter.”
Muriel changed the subject.
“For all that, I feel you are right in staying, Cyril. Have you written to your people?”
Prescott felt embarrassed and guilty, as he generally did when, in confidential44 moments, she called him by Jernyngham’s name. Somehow he could not imagine her saying Jack. 42
“No,” he rejoined slowly. “Of course, they must be written to.”
Muriel did not answer. The turn their conversation had taken had filled her with a vague unrest as she looked back at the life she had led. Three or four years ago it had seemed filled with glamour45 and excitement, and she had entered on its pleasures with eager zest46, but of late she had begun to find them wearisome. They no longer satisfied her. If this were the result of a few years’ experience, what would she feel when she had grown jaded47 with time and everything was stale? Then her glimpse of the simple, healthful western life had come as a revelation. It was real, a bracing48 struggle, in which no effort was wasted but produced tangible49 results: broad stretches of splendid wheat, sweeps of azure50 flax.
But this was not all. She felt drawn51 to her brown-faced companion, who had obviously redeemed52 whatever errors he had been guilty of in the past. She had known him for only about a fortnight, but she had seen his admiration for her with a satisfaction that was slightly tempered by misgivings53. She could not tell exactly what she expected from him, but she had at least looked for some expression of a wish that their acquaintance should not end abruptly54 on the morrow. She did not think she would have resented a carefully modified display of the gallantry Cyril Jernyngham must be capable of, if reports were true. Considering what his past was supposed to have been, the grave man who watched her with troubled eyes was hard to understand.
“Cyril,” she asked, “has Harry given you our address at Glacier55 and Banff?”
He supposed that this implied permission to write to her, but he could not do so as Jack Prescott and he 43 already bitterly regretted that he had allowed her to think of him as Jernyngham.
“Yes,” he said, with a carelessness which cost him an effort. “But I’m afraid I’m not a good correspondent. I’m too busy, for one thing.”
“Too busy?” she mocked, with a stronger color in her face. “Can’t you spare half an hour from your plowing to write to your friends?”
“Well,” he answered with forced coolness, “it’s difficult, except, of course, in the winter and you’ll be back in England then, with so many festivities on hand that you won’t be anxious to hear about Canada.”
She looked at him for a moment, puzzled and a little angry, and he guessed her thoughts. He was behaving like a boor56; but it was better that she should think him one.
“How very un-English you have become!” she said.
“You mean I’m very Canadian? Anyway, I try to be sensible—I’ve done some wretchedly foolish things and I’ve got to pay for them. Of course, this visit’s only an episode to you; something that’s soon over and forgotten.”
There was trouble in his voice, though he strove to speak with indifference57, and after a swift glance at him she answered coldly:
“I suppose it is. One impression rubs out another, and no doubt we shall see something novel and interesting farther on. However, we won’t stay in Canada very long and we shall see your father and sister as soon as we get home. It’s curious that you have scarcely mentioned them.”
“Oh, well,” he evaded58 awkwardly, “Harry has told me a good deal.”
He turned his head, dreading59 her curious eyes. His 44 last evening in her company was proving more trying than he had expected; though usually tolerant and good-humored, the strain made him bitter. To-morrow he must put this girl out of his mind. After all, it was to Cyril Jernyngham, rake and wastrel60, but a man of her own station, that she had been gracious and charming; had she known he was Jack Prescott, she would, no doubt, have treated him very differently; but in this supposition he did her wrong.
Puzzled by his lack of responsiveness and with wounded pride, she stopped and looked out toward the northwest across the prairie. Steeped in strong coloring, it seemed to run back into immeasurable distance, though a wonderful blaze of crimson61 marked its rim17. The faint, cool air that flowed across it was charged with a curious exhilarating quality; there was a subtle fragrance62 of herbs in the grass.
“It’s getting late,” she said; “I must go in. This is the last sunset I shall watch on the prairie, and in several ways I’m sorry. You have made our stay here very pleasant.”
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1
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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upbraiding
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| adj.& n.谴责（的）v.责备，申斥，谴责( upbraid的现在分词 ) | |
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10
outgrown
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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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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14
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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offenders
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| n.冒犯者( offender的名词复数 )；犯规者；罪犯；妨害…的人（或事物） | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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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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plowing
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| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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plow
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| n.犁，耕地，犁过的地；v.犁，费力地前进[英]plough | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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24
implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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25
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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ranching
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| adj.放牧的 | |
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spartan
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| adj.简朴的，刻苦的；n.斯巴达；斯巴达式的人 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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amenities
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| n.令人愉快的事物；礼仪；礼节；便利设施；礼仪( amenity的名词复数 )；便利设施；（环境等的）舒适；（性情等的）愉快 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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32
frugality
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| n.节约，节俭 | |
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tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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37
furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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38
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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40
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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42
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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43
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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44
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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45
glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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46
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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47
jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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49
tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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50
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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51
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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52
redeemed
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| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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53
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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54
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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55
glacier
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| n.冰川，冰河 | |
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56
boor
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| n.举止粗野的人；乡下佬 | |
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57
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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58
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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59
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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60
wastrel
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| n.浪费者；废物 | |
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61
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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62
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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