“I dropped in by the—the merest accident,” Theron said. “I met them bringing the poor man home, and—and quite without thinking, I obeyed the impulse to follow them in, and didn't realize—”
He stopped short, annoyed by the reflection that this was his second apology. The girl smiled placidly4 at him, the while she put up her parasol.
“It did me good to see you there,” she said, quite as if she had known him all her life. “And so it did the rest of us.”
Father Forbes permitted himself a soft little chuckle5, approving rather than mirthful, and patted her on the shoulder with the air of being fifty years her senior instead of fifteen. To the minister's relief, he changed the subject as the three started together toward the road.
“Then, again, no doctor was sent for!” he exclaimed, as if resuming a familiar subject with the girl. Then he turned to Theron. “I dare-say you have no such trouble; but with our poorer people it is very vexing6. They will not call in a physician, but hurry off first for the clergyman. I don't know that it is altogether to avoid doctor's bills, but it amounts to that in effect. Of course in this case it made no difference; but I have had to make it a rule not to go out at night unless they bring me a physician's card with his assurance that it is a genuine affair. Why, only last winter, I was routed up after midnight, and brought off in the mud and pelting7 rain up one of the new streets on the hillside there, simply because a factory girl who was laced too tight had fainted at a dance. I slipped and fell into a puddle8 in the darkness, ruined a new overcoat, and got drenched9 to the skin; and when I arrived the girl had recovered and was dancing away again, thirteen to the dozen. It was then that I made the rule. I hope, Mr. Ware, that Octavius is producing a pleasant impression upon you so far?”
“I scarcely know yet,” answered Theron. The genial10 talk of the priest, with its whimsical anecdote11, had in truth passed over his head. His mind still had room for nothing but that novel death-bed scene, with the winged captain of the angelic host, the Baptist, the glorified12 Fisherman and the Preacher, all being summoned down in the pomp of liturgical13 Latin to help MacEvoy to die. “If you don't mind my saying so,” he added hesitatingly, “what I have just seen in there DID make a very powerful impression upon me.”
“It is a very ancient ceremony,” said the priest; “probably Persian, like the baptismal form, although, for that matter, we can never dig deep enough for the roots of these things. They all turn up Turanian if we probe far enough. Our ways separate here, I'm afraid. I am delighted to have made your acquaintance, Mr. Ware. Pray look in upon me, if you can as well as not. We are near neighbors, you know.”
Father Forbes had shaken hands, and moved off up another street some distance, before the voice of the girl recalled Theron to himself.
“Of course you knew HIM by name,” she was saying, “and he knew you by sight, and had talked of you; but MY poor inferior sex has to be introduced. I am Celia Madden. My father has the wagon14-shops, and I—I play the organ at the church.”
“I—I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” said Theron, conscious as he spoke15 that he had slavishly echoed the formula of the priest. He could think of nothing better to add than, “Unfortunately, we have no organ in our church.”
The girl laughed, as they resumed their walk down the street. “I'm afraid I couldn't undertake two,” she said, and laughed again. Then she spoke more seriously. “That ceremony must have interested you a good deal, never having seen it before. I saw that it was all new to you, and so I made bold to take you under my wing, so to speak.”
“You were very kind,” said the young minister. “It was really a great experience for me. May—may I ask, is it a part of your functions, in the church, I mean, to attend these last rites16?”
“Mercy, no!” replied the girl, spinning the parasol on her shoulder and smiling at the thought. “No; it was only because MacEvoy was one of our workmen, and really came by his death through father sending him up to trim a tree. Ann MacEvoy will never forgive us that, the longest day she lives. Did you notice her? She wouldn't speak to me. After you came out, I tried to tell her that we would look out for her and the children; but all she would say to me was: 'An' fwat would a wheelwright, an' him the father of a family, be doin' up a tree?'”
They had come now upon the main street of the village, with its flagstone sidewalk overhung by a lofty canopy17 of elm-boughs. Here, for the space of a block, was concentrated such fashionable elegance18 of mansions19 and ornamental20 lawns as Octavius had to offer; and it was presented with the irregularity so characteristic of our restless civilization. Two or three of the houses survived untouched from the earlier days—prim, decorous structures, each with its gabled centre and lower wings, each with its row of fluted21 columns supporting the classical roof of a piazza23 across its whole front, each vying24 with the others in the whiteness of those wooden walls enveloping25 its bright green blinds. One had to look over picket26 fences to see these houses, and in doing so caught the notion that they thus railed themselves off in pride at being able to remember before the railroad came to the village, or the wagon-works were thought of.
Before the neighboring properties the fences had been swept away, so that one might stroll from the sidewalk straight across the well-trimmed sward to any one of a dozen elaborately modern doorways27. Some of the residences, thus frankly28 proffering29 friendship to the passer-by, were of wood painted in drabs and dusky reds, with bulging30 windows which marked the native yearning31 for the mediaeval, and shingles32 that strove to be accounted tiles. Others—a prouder, less pretentious33 sort—were of brick or stone, with terra-cotta mouldings set into the walls, and with real slates34 covering the riot of turrets35 and peaks and dormer peepholes overhead.
Celia Madden stopped in front of the largest and most important-looking of these new edifices36, and said, holding out her hand: “Here I am, once more. Good-morning, Mr. Ware.”
Theron hoped that his manner did not betray the flash of surprise he felt in discovering that his new acquaintance lived in the biggest house in Octavius. He remembered now that some one had pointed37 it out as the abode38 of the owner of the wagon factories; but it had not occurred to him before to associate this girl with that village magnate. It was stupid of him, of course, because she had herself mentioned her father. He looked at her again with an awkward smile, as he formally shook the gloved hand she gave him, and lifted his soft hat. The strong noon sunlight, forcing its way down between the elms, and beating upon her parasol of lace-edged, creamy silk, made a halo about her hair and face at once brilliant and tender. He had not seen before how beautiful she was. She nodded in recognition of his salute39, and moved up the lawn walk, spinning the sunshade on her shoulder.
Though the parsonage was only three blocks away, the young minister had time to think about a good many things before he reached home.
First of all, he had to revise in part the arrangement of his notions about the Irish. Save for an occasional isolated40 and taciturn figure among the nomadic41 portion of the hired help in the farm country, Theron had scarcely ever spoken to a person of this curiously42 alien race before. He remembered now that there had been some dozen or more Irish families in Tyre, quartered in the outskirts43 among the brickyards, but he had never come in contact with any of them, or given to their existence even a passing thought. So far as personal acquaintance went, the Irish had been to him only a name.
But what a sinister44 and repellent name! His views on this general subject were merely those common to his communion and his environment. He took it for granted, for example, that in the large cities most of the poverty and all the drunkenness, crime, and political corruption45 were due to the perverse46 qualities of this foreign people—qualities accentuated47 and emphasized in every evil direction by the baleful influence of a false and idolatrous religion. It is hardly too much to say that he had never encountered a dissenting48 opinion on this point. His boyhood had been spent in those bitter days when social, political, and blood prejudices were fused at white heat in the public crucible49 together. When he went to the Church Seminary, it was a matter of course that every member of the faculty50 was a Republican, and that every one of his classmates had come from a Republican household. When, later on, he entered the ministry51, the rule was still incredulous of exceptions. One might as well have looked in the Nedahma Conference for a divergence52 of opinion on the Trinity as for a difference in political conviction. Indeed, even among the laity54, Theron could not feel sure that he had ever known a Democrat55; that is, at all closely. He understood very little about politics, it is true. If he had been driven into a corner, and forced to attempt an explanation of this tremendous partisan56 unity57 in which he had a share, he would probably have first mentioned the War—the last shots of which were fired while he was still in petticoats. Certainly his second reason, however, would have been that the Irish were on the other side.
He had never before had occasion to formulate58, even in his own thoughts, this tacit race and religious aversion in which he had been bred. It rose now suddenly in front of him, as he sauntered from patch to patch of sunlight under the elms, like some huge, shadowy, and symbolic59 monument. He looked at it with wondering curiosity, as at something he had heard of all his life, but never seen before—an abhorrent60 spectacle, truly! The foundations upon which its dark bulk reared itself were ignorance, squalor, brutality61 and vice62. Pigs wallowed in the mire63 before its base, and burrowing64 into this base were a myriad65 of narrow doors, each bearing the hateful sign of a saloon, and giving forth66 from its recesses67 of night the sounds of screams and curses. Above were sculptured rows of lowering, ape-like faces from Nast's and Keppler's cartoons, and out of these sprang into the vague upper gloom—on the one side, lamp-posts from which negroes hung by the neck, and on the other gibbets for dynamiters and Molly Maguires, and between the two glowed a spectral68 picture of some black-robed tonsured69 men, with leering satanic masks, making a bonfire of the Bible in the public schools.
Theron stared this phantasm hard in the face, and recognized it for a very tolerable embodiment of what he had heretofore supposed he thought about the Irish. For an instant, the sight of it made him shiver, as if the sunny May had of a sudden lapsed70 back into bleak71 December. Then he smiled, and the bad vision went off into space. He saw instead Father Forbes, in the white and purple vestments, standing72 by poor MacEvoy's bedside, with his pale, chiselled73, luminous74, uplifted face, and he heard only the proud, confident clanging of the girl's recital,—BEATUM MICHAELEM ARCHANGELUM, BEATUM JOANNEM BAPTISTAM, PETRUM ET PAULUM—EM!—AM!—UM!—like strokes on a great resonant75 alarm-bell, attuned76 for the hearing of heaven. He caught himself on the very verge53 of feeling that heaven must have heard.
Then he smiled again, and laid the matter aside, with a parting admission that it had been undoubtedly77 picturesque78 and impressive, and that it had been a valuable experience to him to see it. At least the Irish, with all their faults, must have a poetic79 strain, or they would not have clung so tenaciously80 to those curious and ancient forms. He recalled having heard somewhere, or read, it might be, that they were a people much given to songs and music. And the young lady, that very handsome and friendly Miss Madden, had told him that she was a musician! He had a new pleasure in turning this over in his mind. Of all the closed doors which his choice of a career had left along his pathway, no other had for him such a magical fascination81 as that on which was graven the lute22 of Orpheus. He knew not even the alphabet of music, and his conceptions of its possibilities ran but little beyond the best of the hymn-singing he had heard at Conferences, yet none the less the longing82 for it raised on occasion such mutiny in his soul that more than once he had specifically prayed against it as a temptation.
Dangerous though some of its tendencies might be, there was no gainsaying83 the fact that a love for music was in the main an uplifting influence—an attribute of cultivation84. The world was the sweeter and more gentle for it. And this brought him to musing upon the odd chance that the two people of Octavius who had given him the first notion of polish and intellectual culture in the town should be Irish. The Romish priest must have been vastly surprised at his intrusion, yet had been at the greatest pains to act as if it were quite the usual thing to have Methodist ministers assist at Extreme Unction. And the young woman—how gracefully85, with what delicacy86, had she comprehended his position and robbed it of all its possible embarrassments87! It occurred to him that they must have passed, there in front of her home, the very tree from which the luckless wheelwright had fallen some hours before; and the fact that she had forborne to point it out to him took form in his mind as an added proof of her refinement88 of nature.
The midday dinner was a little more than ready when Theron reached home, and let himself in by the front door. On Mondays, owing to the moisture and “clutter” of the weekly washing in the kitchen, the table was laid in the sitting-room89, and as he entered from the hall the partner of his joys bustled90 in by the other door, bearing the steaming platter of corned beef, dumplings, cabbages, and carrots, with arms bared to the elbows, and a red face. It gave him great comfort, however, to note that there were no signs of the morning's displeasure remaining on this face; and he immediately remembered again those interrupted projects of his about the piano and the hired girl.
“Well! I'd just about begun to reckon that I was a widow,” said Alice, putting down her fragrant91 burden. There was such an obvious suggestion of propitiation in her tone that Theron went around and kissed her. He thought of saying something about keeping out of the way because it was “Blue Monday,” but held it back lest it should sound like a reproach.
“Well, what kind of a washerwoman does THIS one turn out to be?” he asked, after they were seated, and he had invoked92 a blessing93 and was cutting vigorously into the meat.
“Oh, so-so,” replied Alice; “she seems to be particular, but she's mortal slow. If I hadn't stood right over her, we shouldn't have had the clothes out till goodness knows when. And of course she's Irish!”
“Well, what of THAT?” asked the minister, with a fine unconcern.
Alice looked up from her plate, with knife and fork suspended in air. “Why, you know we were talking only the other day of what a pity it was that none of our own people went out washing,” she said. “That Welsh woman we heard of couldn't come, after all; and they say, too, that she presumes dreadfully upon the acquaintance, being a church member, you know. So we simply had to fall back on the Irish. And even if they do go and tell their priest everything they see and hear, why, there's one comfort, they can tell about US and welcome. Of course I see to it she doesn't snoop around in here.”
Theron smiled. “That's all nonsense about their telling such things to their priests,” he said with easy confidence.
“Why, you told me so yourself,” replied Alice, briskly. “And I've always understood so, too; they're bound to tell EVERYTHING in confession94. That's what gives the Catholic Church such a tremendous hold. You've spoken of it often.”
“It must have been by way of a figure of speech,” remarked Theron, not with entire directness. “Women are great hands to separate one's observations from their context, and so give them meanings quite unintended. They are also great hands,” he added genially95, “or at least one of them is, at making the most delicious dumplings in the world. I believe these are the best even you ever made.”
Alice was not unmindful of the compliment, but her thoughts were on other things. “I shouldn't like that woman's priest, for example,” she said, “to know that we had no piano.”
“But if he comes and stands outside our house every night and listens—as of course he will,” said Theron, with mock gravity, “it is only a question of time when he must reach that conclusion for himself. Our only chance, however, is that there are some sixteen hundred other houses for him to watch, so that he may not get around to us for quite a spell. Why, seriously, Alice, what on earth do you suppose Father Forbes knows or cares about our poor little affairs, or those of any other Protestant household in this whole village? He has his work to do, just as I have mine—only his is ten times as exacting96 in everything except sermons—and you may be sure he is only too glad when it is over each day, without bothering about things that are none of his business.”
“All the same I'm afraid of them,” said Alice, as if argument were exhausted97.
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1
ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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2
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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3
frigidly
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| adv.寒冷地；冷漠地；冷淡地；呆板地 | |
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placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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vexing
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| adj.使人烦恼的，使人恼火的v.使烦恼( vex的现在分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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7
pelting
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| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
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puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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9
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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10
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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12
glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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13
liturgical
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| adj.礼拜仪式的 | |
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14
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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15
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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rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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21
fluted
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| a.有凹槽的 | |
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lute
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| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
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piazza
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| n.广场；走廊 | |
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vying
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| adj.竞争的；比赛的 | |
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enveloping
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的现在分词 ) | |
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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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27
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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proffering
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的现在分词 ) | |
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bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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shingles
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| n.带状疱疹；（布满海边的）小圆石( shingle的名词复数 )；屋顶板；木瓦（板）；墙面板 | |
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pretentious
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| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
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slates
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| （旧时学生用以写字的）石板( slate的名词复数 )； 板岩； 石板瓦； 石板色 | |
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turrets
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| （六角）转台( turret的名词复数 )； （战舰和坦克等上的）转动炮塔； （摄影机等上的）镜头转台； （旧时攻城用的）塔车 | |
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edifices
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| n.大建筑物( edifice的名词复数 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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39
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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40
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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nomadic
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| adj.流浪的；游牧的 | |
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42
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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43
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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44
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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45
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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46
perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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47
accentuated
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| v.重读( accentuate的过去式和过去分词 )；使突出；使恶化；加重音符号于 | |
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48
dissenting
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| adj.不同意的 | |
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49
crucible
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| n.坩锅，严酷的考验 | |
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50
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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51
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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52
divergence
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| n.分歧，岔开 | |
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53
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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54
laity
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| n.俗人；门外汉 | |
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55
democrat
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士；民主党党员 | |
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56
partisan
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| adj.党派性的；游击队的；n.游击队员；党徒 | |
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57
unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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58
formulate
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| v.用公式表示；规划；设计；系统地阐述 | |
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59
symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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abhorrent
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| adj.可恶的，可恨的，讨厌的 | |
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brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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burrowing
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的现在分词 )；翻寻 | |
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myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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tonsured
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| v.剃( tonsure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lapsed
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| adj.流失的，堕落的v.退步( lapse的过去式和过去分词 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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71
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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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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chiselled
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| adj.凿过的，凿光的； （文章等）精心雕琢的v.凿，雕，镌( chisel的过去式 ) | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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resonant
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| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
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76
attuned
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| v.使协调( attune的过去式和过去分词 )；调音 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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80
tenaciously
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| 坚持地 | |
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81
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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82
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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gainsaying
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| v.否认，反驳( gainsay的现在分词 ) | |
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84
cultivation
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| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
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85
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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86
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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87
embarrassments
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| n.尴尬( embarrassment的名词复数 )；难堪；局促不安；令人难堪或耻辱的事 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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90
bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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invoked
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| v.援引( invoke的过去式和过去分词 )；行使（权利等）；祈求救助；恳求 | |
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93
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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