“It seems to do you good to be run away with,” Phillip told her.
“It does,” she smiled. “I like it!”
“If I was some younger, Miss Margey,” cried Markham with a courtly bow, “I’d take yo’ at yo’ word! By doggie, yes, ma’am!”
“Oh, dear! I so wish you were!” Margaret sighed.
[264]
Phillip’s eyebrows5 went up. This was a new Margey.
But if she was all graciousness to Markham she was but calm, unadorned politeness to John North. He was never for a moment allowed to forget that she hated him. When he spoke6 to her the smiles disappeared and she replied in the fewest number of words consistent with courtesy. Her manner said: “You are my hated foe7; but you are also my guest!”
And John throve on her displeasure and grew merrier with every proof of it.
Arrangements for the fox hunt were completed ere they left the table, and afterward8 they played whist before the drawing-room fire, Margaret and John against Phillip and Tom Markham. John watched Margaret’s efforts to avoid playing with him with carefully concealed9 amusement. In the end she defeated her own purpose.
“I’m such a frightfully poor player,” she lamented11, “it would be a shame to spoil Mr. North’s pleasure by making us partners.”
“That’s just it,” cried Phillip. “You are pretty rotten, Margey, but John’s one of the crack members of the Harvard Whist Club, and so that evens it up. Come along, now.”
[265]
So Margaret accepted the inevitable12 and took the place opposite John, where he could look into her face every time he raised his eyes from his cards. They had foemen worthy14 of their trumps16. Phillip was a good player, while Markham went in for whist as he went in for everything else, with a concentration and singleness of purpose that was delightful17 to behold18 and which made him a formidable antagonist19. It is to be feared that Margaret purposely vindicated20 the reputation she had claimed. Surely, never before were so many good cards wasted, so many aces21 trumped22, such a blind disregard of science and signals exhibited! But if her purpose was to ruffle23, her partner’s temper, she won not the slightest vestige24 of success. John’s tranquillity25 remained impervious26. Phillip wondered and exclaimed:
“Good heavens, Margey! What were you up to then? You’re playing fifty times worse than I ever knew you to—and that’s saying a heap!”
“Thank you, Phil, dear!”
“John will think you were raised in—in—I don’t know what—where!”
“I am very sorry,” answered Margaret very gravely, “but I warned Mr. North of what to expect.”
[266]
“Really, I think your playing is very good, Miss Ryerson,” interposed John, with equal gravity. “For my part, I am quite satisfied. And if you’re satisfied and I’m satisfied, where does Phil come in? Nowhere. Your lead, Mr. Markham.”
Now there was a bit of polite perjury28 that should have won the thanks and admiration29 of any one in Margaret’s place. Yet, for some reason, the effect on Margaret was quite the reverse of pleasing and did not soften30 her heart and move her to reform; on the contrary, she played worse than before and exasperated31 Phillip to fresh remonstrance32.
“Margey! You did it again that hand!”
“Did what, Phil?”
“Why, trumped his ace13!”
“Did I? Did I trump15 your ace, Mr. North?”
“I believe you did,” John answered calmly. “But I don’t think Phil understands your play.”
“No, hanged if I do!” muttered Phillip.
“While I do—perfectly.”
Margaret frowned suspiciously and had the grace to blush. And John saw the blush and thought it lovely and played a card that caused Tom Markham’s hands to tremble with triumph. Yet, despite all handicaps—not the least of which was his inability[267] to keep his eyes on the game—John won out at the end, and Markham drew his long length carefully from his chair and sighed enviously33.
“Gingeration, Mr. No’th, sir! I just wish I could play the game the way you can. I never saw anything like it! It’s a pleasure, sir, to be defeated by you, sir! By doggie, yes, sir!”
John sat for a full half-hour in front of the fire in his bedroom, attired34 only in a suit of red-and-white pajamas35, and smoked his pipe and watched the flames. He didn’t always see the flames, however, and his thoughts were at least the length of the house from them. He reviewed the day’s events and grew cold at recollection of that frightful10 and anxious race down Pine Top, and warm at the memory of what had followed. He wondered whether he had made a mistake in “showing his hand” so early in the game, and believed he hadn’t. On its face it appeared a reckless, impossible, even frivolous36 thing to make a declaration of love—even an off-hand one—twenty-four hours after first meeting a woman. But John found extenuating37 circumstances. In the first place, it had been entirely38 unpremeditated. In the second place, his acquaintanceship with Margaret was not limited to twenty-four[268] hours; he had known her ever since he had known Phillip. Corliss’ allusion39 to her had aroused his curiosity and sympathy and appealed to his imagination. He had fallen in love with her the moment he had seen her picture on Phillip’s mantel. His passion—not a very deep one then, perhaps—had been fed by their short correspondence and by the constant mention of her name and news of her doings doled40 out by Phillip. And then he had seen her in the flesh! And now it was all confirmed, established, irrevocable!
No, he didn’t believe he had hurt his chances by his impulsive41 words. He was not an expert in affairs of the heart. Had he ever felt the slightest desire to do so—which he never did—he could have counted his love affairs on the fingers of one hand and still, perhaps, have a thumb left untapped. He had never made a study of the pleasant art of making love, yet he had learned somehow that interest must precede affection, and had a strong suspicion that no woman can fail to feel interest in a man who has declared his love for her, no matter how indifferent to his passion she may be.
No; on the whole he was very well satisfied with his second day at Elaine. It did not occur to him[269] as among the possibilities that Margaret could really cherish resentment42 against him for what he had done. She was beautiful to him in every way, and he loved her. Then why not tell her so? It was the natural thing to do, and he had done it. To be sure, she was justified43 in finding fault with his method; he owned to himself that he had been rather crude, almost discourteous44; and on that score she was right to show displeasure. But in the end——
He knocked the ashes from his pipe and pulled himself erect45, yawning cavernously. The fire was low and little chills were sporting up and down his back. He blew out the light and crawled into the four-poster.
In the end she must love him. His college career would come to an end in June; after that should come another career in which his curriculum should be Margaret and of which the degree should be Margaret’s love. But suddenly his pleasant confidence received a shock. What if there should be—was—some one else?
He sat up and blinked in consternation46 at the firelight. What about that other chap, that cousin? What was his name? Willis? Who the deuce was this Willis and where did he come in? He dropped[270] his head back on the pillow. He would find out about this Nate—that was it!—Nate Willis. He would—ask Phillip—in—the morn——
Then he commenced snoring peacefully.
Sunday came and went, and Monday, and Tuesday, with untroubled skies, brisk, mellow47 noons and frosty nights. The ice formed hard on the little ponds and they went skating. And they shot more partridges, and rode and drove; and to John every moment was filled with pleasure. And yet his love affair progressed not at all. Strive as he might to find or beguile48 Margaret away from the companionship of Mrs. Ryerson or Phillip or from the mysterious duties that kept her so much of the time in that impenetrable region of the house reigned49 over by Aunt Cicely, he was always unsuccessful. To be sure—and here was doubtful cause for self-gratulation—Margaret’s manner toward him was what it had been of old, before she had found it necessary to hate him. But John wasn’t satisfied.
Meanwhile he had disposed of Nate Willis—or, rather, Phillip had done it for him. And no other pretender had appeared on the horizon. John found encouragement in these facts. But meanwhile, too, his stay at Elaine was already half over, for he had[271] promised David to come to him in New York the next Sunday. He sighed dolefully and for a minute entertained the wild idea of telegraphing David that he was dead and couldn’t join him. But, as he realized with a grin the next moment, that wouldn’t do, for Davy would be certain to come down to the funeral.
The fox hunt had been highly successful. That is to say, from certain viewpoints. Margaret and Phillip and the indefatigable50 Colonel Brownell—who looked every minute of his sixty-eight years and rode to hounds like a youngster—had been in at the death, while John, accompanied by Tom Markham, whose courtesy and hospitality would not allow him to leave the guest behind, had plodded51 unexcitedly along some half-mile in the rear. John’s clothes bore streaks52 and large expanses of brown earth on one side, as did Ruby53’s knees, that all who rode might read. John did not mind the spill over a tumble-down fence onto a frost-cracked ground, but he did mind seeing his hopes of a talk—desultory, perchance, but still a talk—with Margaret come to naught54. For that is just what had happened. As soon as ever they were off Cardinal55 had sprung to the front of the field of some dozen horses, and[272] John’s efforts to come up to her on Ruby were unavailing. He had urged on the mare56 vigourously, but she was no match for Cardinal, and the hurry accomplished57 only a sudden tumble of horse and rider, luckily without painful results.
The hunters rode homeward in a bunch, Colonel Brownell and two younger men from the village completely frustrating58 any designs John may have entertained of riding beside Margaret. He fell back on the society of Phillip and Tom Markham, and, since their route lay over the better part of three adjoining estates, learned much of interest regarding farming methods, soil qualities, cattle-grazing and land values. From a hill his companions indicated the confines of Elaine on three sides, and for the first time he began to have some conception of what the care of 1,600 acres meant. He viewed Markham with increased interest and new respect.
“Can this cattle business be made to pay, Mr. Markham?” he asked, as they rode onward59 toward the home farm, which was just in sight toward the north.
“Yes, sir, by doggie, Mr. No’th! But yo’ need money, sir. Yo’ got to buy when cattle are cheap an’ yo’ got to have ready cash to do it. That’s the[273] trouble with a heap of folks ’round here, Mr. No’th; they ain’t got the cash ready to plank60 right down when it’s needed.”
“It’s going to pay for us, isn’t it, Tom?” asked Phillip. “You wait until I get through college and you’ll see! I’m going to make a different place of Elaine!”
John was silent, and Markham looked away and worked his long jaws61 hurriedly, generously decorating the roadside with tobacco juice.
“There’s most too much land here, Phil,” he said presently.
“I don’t think so, Tom; the more land the more grass, and the more grass the more cattle we can handle. Besides, it wouldn’t do to sell any part of Elaine. Why, I’d rather—rather let it grow up in timber again!”
“There’s going to be money in timber ’round here mighty62 soon,” said the overseer. “Everybody’s cuttin’ it down like all git out.”
“What does lumber63 cost around here?” asked John. Markham looked over at him gratefully and the conversation turned into new channels.
Christmas Day dawned bright and clear but colder than any since John had been there. Uncle Casper[274] made his appearance rather late, rubbing his hands briskly, and wearing a half-frozen appearance.
“Pow’ful cold, sir, this mawnin’,” he volunteered as he laid the fire. “Ev’ything’s friz up tight; yes, sir. Reckon, though, you folkses up No’th has it a heap colder’n this, sir?”
“Yes, Uncle, we wouldn’t call this anything where I come from. I see your wood lights all right?”
“Sir? Yes, sir.”
“Oh, well, it isn’t really cold then. When it gets so that the wood freezes and won’t catch fire we call it chilly64 up North.”
The darky paused with a flaring65 pine splinter in his benumbed fingers and stared with round eyes.
“’Fore Gawd, Mister No’th!” he ejaculated finally. “I never heard tell of that. Whoo—ee! No, sir, I reckon we jus’ don’t know what cold is, sir. My nephew he works up in New Yo’k; he’s a waiter in a mons’rous big hotel up there. He done tol’ me that they fust winter he was there he come mighty nigh perishin’ with they cold; yes, sir. But, Lordie, sir, I didn’t s’pect it was like that!” He ambled66 out, shaking his head and muttering volubly.
When Will returned from Melville with the mail[275] he also bore two packages, one addressed to Mrs. Ryerson and one to Margaret. When opened they divulged67 great, long-stemmed red roses and in the little envelopes were John’s cards; he had ordered the blossoms by mail from Washington. Margaret loved flowers, and the gift dispelled68 the last of her resentment toward John, a resentment which during the past two days she had experienced much difficulty in keeping alive. John surmised69 his complete forgiveness and was comforted. Somehow, despite that in the kitchen preparation of a big Christmas dinner was going forward, Margaret found more leisure from household duties that day than on any day since John had transgressed70, and she made no efforts to avoid his society.
The mail brought letters to John and one to Phillip—at least, it resembled a letter in outward appearance. But when, in the seclusion71 of his room, Phillip tore it madly open, he found only a small photograph. But he didn’t seem disappointed. On the back of the picture were the words, penned in large, stylish72 and very illegible73 characters, “Phillip from Betty.” Although he kept it in the breast pocket of his jacket all day—and for many days thereafter—and referred to it[276] surreptitiously whenever occasion allowed, it was not exhibited to any one, not even to John. The latter’s letters were from his mother and David. The former spoke encouragingly of his father’s health. The letter was written from Mentone.
“The doctor spent Friday and Saturday with us here and was much pleased with your father’s condition. He says that if the improvement continues until spring there will be no good reason for staying abroad longer than April. Of course your father is delighted; he is already busy planning for the trip home. I hope the excitement will not undo74 any of the good work, and I do hope above all else that he won’t be disappointed. I, too, dearest, will be glad to get home once more. It seems ages and ages since we left. The doctor even thinks that next winter your father can safely remain there, in some mild climate like Asheville or Aiken. That seems almost too much to hope for, doesn’t it? But we shall see. I think we shall close up the Worcester house, John, for it seems scarcely worth while keeping it up unless you expect to be there for any length of time in the Summer. Your father talks of going into the Adirondacks, and if we do, of course we shall want you to be with us all the time, or as much[277] of the time as you can give us. He sends his love and a little present, which must do for both of us, since I really don’t know what to give you, dearest, that you would care for. I hope you are enjoying your visit in Virginia. Your father wants you to write and tell him about the country there, and says you’re to stop and see Mr. Corliss on your way back.”
John placed the check in his pocketbook and thoughtfully nibbled75 a corner of the letter, staring out of the hall window across the pleasant, peaceful prospect76 of sunny hill and valley. It was mid-morning, and the frozen crust of earth was softening77 under the warmth of the sun; the file of turkeys as they picked their way across the drive left three-pronged footprints on the gravel27. In the trees the birds were chirping78 busily.
“Coming back,” John muttered. “Jove, that’s good news! And—yes, I think I can manage it!” He smiled as though well pleased with his thoughts, and opened David’s epistle. This was characteristically brief and to the point. Life had been going very slowly with the writer and he blamed it all on John’s absence. He wished the latter a Merry Christmas, and informed him that he had bought a[278] present for him—it didn’t amount to much—and that he would have sent it if he hadn’t misplaced it somewhere.
“But I’ll look it up and have it ready for you when you arrive,” he wrote. “You’re coming Sunday. Don’t forget. If you don’t come I swear I’ll go down to Virginia and bring you back bodily. Also I’ll give you a damned good hiding.
“Yours faith’ly,
“David.”
“P. S.—The governor has presented me with a dangerous-looking automobile79 thing. It is a lovely crimson80. You pull things and it goes. I can make it go finely, but I haven’t found out yet how to stop it. When you come we’ll try it in the park.
“P. S. No. 2.—How’s Margaret?”
Dinner was an event that day. The overseer was there and a certain “Uncle Bob,” a younger brother of Mrs. Ryerson, who lived in Richmond. In the evening a handful of young persons of both sexes came out from Melville and there was an informal dance, and, what pleased “Uncle Bob” much more, a monstrous81 bowl of punch which stood in the hall wreathed with holly82 and mistletoe.
John danced with Margaret as often as she would allow, and amazedly wondered why dancing had never really appealed to him before that evening.[279] No mention was made on either side of the incident of Saturday’s ride. John understood that he had been forgiven and that Margaret had reinstated him in her good graces, but that there was to be no repetition of the offense83 under penalty of renewed excommunication. And to this decree John for the present bowed submissively.
About midnight the visitors left, professing84 great consternation at a thin veneer85 of snow which covered the drive, and talking muck of being snowed in on the way to town, and John and “Uncle Bob” formed themselves into a rescue party, protesting their readiness to do battle against the element with brooms and dust pans. Afterward the rescue party and Phillip and Tom Markham retired86 to the library to smoke. “Uncle Bob” insisted upon taking the still undepleted punch bowl with him, and at half past one John and Phillip assisted the Richmond relative to his room. Markham took himself off intensely serious and dignified87, but it was noticeable that he experienced unaccustomed difficulty in climbing into his saddle.
Phillip, with the memory of that famous affair at the theatre in mind, had followed John’s example and had spared the punch.
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impartially
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| adv.公平地，无私地 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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verged
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| 接近，逼近（verge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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frivolity
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| n.轻松的乐事，兴高采烈；轻浮的举止 | |
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eyebrows
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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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foe
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afterward
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concealed
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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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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trump
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| n.王牌，法宝；v.打出王牌，吹喇叭 | |
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trumps
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| abbr.trumpets 喇叭；小号；喇叭形状的东西；喇叭筒v.（牌戏）出王牌赢（一牌或一墩）( trump的过去式 )；吹号公告，吹号庆祝；吹喇叭；捏造 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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behold
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antagonist
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vindicated
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| v.澄清（某人/某事物）受到的责难或嫌疑( vindicate的过去式和过去分词 )；表明或证明（所争辩的事物）属实、正当、有效等；维护 | |
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aces
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| abbr.adjustable convertible-rate equity security (units) 可调节的股本证券兑换率；aircraft ejection seat 飞机弹射座椅；automatic control evaluation simulator 自动控制评估模拟器n.擅长…的人( ace的名词复数 )；精于…的人；（ 网球 ）（对手接不到发球的）发球得分；爱司球 | |
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trumped
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| v.（牌戏）出王牌赢（一牌或一墩）( trump的过去分词 )；吹号公告，吹号庆祝；吹喇叭；捏造 | |
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ruffle
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vestige
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tranquillity
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impervious
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gravel
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perjury
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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soften
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exasperated
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remonstrance
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enviously
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attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pajamas
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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extenuating
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| adj.使减轻的，情有可原的v.（用偏袒的辩解或借口）减轻( extenuate的现在分词 )；低估，藐视 | |
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entirely
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allusion
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doled
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| 救济物( dole的过去式和过去分词 )； 失业救济金 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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discourteous
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| adj.不恭的，不敬的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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beguile
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| vt.欺骗，消遣 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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cardinal
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| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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frustrating
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| adj.产生挫折的，使人沮丧的，令人泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的现在分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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ambled
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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divulged
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| v.吐露，泄露( divulge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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transgressed
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| v.超越( transgress的过去式和过去分词 )；越过；违反；违背 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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stylish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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illegible
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| adj.难以辨认的，字迹模糊的 | |
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undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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nibbled
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的过去式和过去分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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chirping
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的现在分词 ) | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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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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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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professing
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| 声称( profess的现在分词 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
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veneer
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| n.(墙上的)饰面，虚饰 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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