He said to himself, as he crossed the fields toward the white and red land-mark of house and barns on the side hill, that he owed everything in the world to this brother. Whatever there might be in his public attitude to condemn12, however pernicious his politics might be, still it was his fraternal feeling and generosity13 which had created the vast gulf14 between Seth the plow-yokel and Seth the editor. These reflections brought no comfort to the young man.
Some perverse15 agency whispered to him, as he strode along over the stubble, that after all he had never really liked Albert; and this liberality of his, too, might it not be a mere16 cheap mess of pottage, thrown to Seth to console him for the loss of his rights in the farm? John had always been incredulous as to Albert’s true goodness in this matter; might there not be something in these suspicions? Seth tried manfully to combat these ungenerous doubts, but they forced themselves upon his mind.
Then there was Albert’s treatment of his wife! Seth had never been clear as to the exact nature of Isabel’s grievance17 against her husband. No specific allegation of cruelty or neglect, much less of infidelity, had ever been laid by her at Albert’s door in his brother’s hearing. Indeed, so far as Seth’s observation went, Albert had always appeared to be a decent enough sort of husband, complaisant18 even if somewhat indifferent, and acquiescent19 to the verge20 of weakness, in her whims21. He seemed to refuse her nothing, in the matter of having her own way, and if he most often broke the ruling conjugal22 dumbness by satirical comments on her actions and opinions, he at least never seriously attempted to fetter23 either. This sounded like the description of a tolerable husband, as husbands go. But up against it was to be set Isabel’s plaintive24, pitiful, persistent25 assertion of unhappiness with him. And clearly she ought to know what her husband was like a good deal better than an outsider could.
So the arguments did battle in Seth’s mind, as he climbed the last fence, and felt his feet on ancestral soil. He had now only to cross a short stretch of pasture land to be at his journey’s end.
Perfect silence rested on the farm. The fat cows lay lazily about him, comfortably chewing the cud of sweet aftermath; the cluster of bright, neat buildings fell into picturesque26 lines of composition before him, in the soft, hazy27 sunshine of Indian summer. The background of scarlet28 and ochre and deep purple-browns in the woods beyond, of warm mauve hills and pale, fluffy29 clouds above; the shaggy old horse, standing30 in tranquil31 bliss32, with his head over the fence; the aged33 shepherd-dog stretched asleep on the kitchen door-stone in the sunny distance—all brought to him a sense of content and beauty which warmed his heart and calmed his thoughts. The spell of the peaceful, restful scene soothed34 him. Then, as by magic, the whole picture seemed to take on the charm of Isabel’s presence. “I am to see her!” he said aloud, almost exultantly35.
There had been no special pleasure in this prospect37, a few hours before. Indeed, it had been months since he had been conscious of a genuine desire to meet his sister-in-law. At times of late it had even seemed to him that a meeting would be a source of embarrassment38, just as the necessity of keeping up the clandestine39 correspondence presented itself often to him in the light of a bore.
But now—yes! she was walking forth swiftly to meet him—coming over the grass with a gliding40 haste which had a wealth of welcome in every motion. The very genius of the mellow41, warm-hearted season she seemed to his eyes as she advanced, clad in some soft, indefinite stuff, loose-flowing, and that in tint42 under the red noon sun could be the shadow on golden grain, or the light on dark puce grapes, or the dim, violet haze43 over the distant valley. She was near him now, beaming with unaffected delight, reaching out her hands in greeting—and his heart went to meet her.
“Oh, Seth! How good of you to come!”
She had almost thrown herself into his arms, and had stood upon tiptoe to be kissed. He held himself back from the embrace, but he did kiss her, and he swung her hands now in his, looking into her glowing eyes with tender, responsive intentness, and smiling his joy. This reception did make him very happy, but he had also a great uneasiness lest some of the folks should be observing them from the windows of the house.
She divined his thoughts, and said, gayly: “They are all at church!”
“What? Albert too?” Seth knew that his brother was not of a religious turn; but he swiftly bethought himself, and added “Oh, I forgot that election is coming on.”
“No,” she chirruped, springing along by his side, her arm tight in his, her walk reflecting exultantly her emotion, “he is in New York. He will be back to-morrow. He has telegraphed me to have you wait.” She dropped into a mock-serious tone: “That is, of course, if you would like to wait?” She looked up archly: “Do you much mind waiting?”
“Do I mind!” He could only look his delight. His voice trembled.
She made a tiny skip, and lifted her face to him again, radiant with happiness. “Do you know,” she said, “I could run and jump like any little child, I am so wild with joy! It seems such an age since we were together last! Only letters—but they were very nice, though. You dear boy, who taught you to write such pretty letters—?”
He pressed her arm closer in his. “Who taught me everything that is sweet?” he whispered. It was all very delicious, but still it troubled him.
They entered the house, and he excused himself while he took his hand-bag up to his old room, and made his toilet after the long hot walk. As he occupied himself thus, and brushed his novel beard, his thoughts were much perturbed44. It was very far from his ideas to make love to his brother’s wife. This bald statement of the situation which framed itself now in his mind, almost for the first time, repelled45 and alarmed him. Yet it seemed to sum up the state of affairs fairly. If there was not lovemaking in every feature of that meeting out on the lawn, then his conceptions of the tender passion were all at fault.
“By Jove, it mustn’t come to that!” he said to himself. “A fellow ought to be able to be fond of his sister-in-law, and be pleasant to her, and sympathize with her and all that, without going beyond the bounds, and making a scoundrel of himself.”
And it was with a deep resolution to be careful, and watch all his words, that he descended46 the stairs. He had taken out of his valise two front pages of a Sunday newspaper, containing “Jeff Brigg’s Love Story,” which he had saved a while before for Isabel, and he gave them now to her.
“Here is something I cut out for you, Isabel; it is a very pretty story, and I know you will like it.”
“Oh, how sweet of you! How well you know just what will please me most of all! And you shall read it to me! The other stories you have sent me were only moderately nice, because I had to read them by myself, but this—oh! this will be enchanting47!”
She arranged an easy chair—a low, capacious chair with light blue the dominant48 color in its covering—close beside the window in the parlor49 which overlooked the poplars, and seated herself in it. Seth brought a hassock for her feet, and then put his own chair along side, where he could see her, and still get a good light on the print. It was not easy for him to begin the reading, so great was the fascination50 of looking at his companion. The sunlight flared51 upon the white curtains above her, and its reflections glowed back again from her crown of golden braids, luminous52 against the azure53 of the chair, and tipped with soft radiance her rounded profile, in cameo-relief against the deep olive of the poplars. Isabel was an artist.
He made a beginning at last, and read until the democrat-wagon drove up in the yard, with its load of church-goers. She made a little mouth at the interruption.
“I suppose Sabrina will come in now, and dinner will be ready soon. But afterwards we can be quiet again, for she always reads the Bible in her own room Sunday afternoons.”
All through the cold dinner, despite the necessity of answering Aunt Sabrina’s and Milton’s remarks, Seth found his mental vision fixed54 on that beautiful profile against the leafy background; especially sweet was the portrait when the eyes were closed, and the lovely fullness above the lids, as in the face of a Madonna, was revealed in the wavering light.
The story was not to be finished that afternoon, for Elhanan Pratt and his daughter dropped in almost before the meal was finished, and a little later Annie Fairchild came. There was not even much consolation55 in the pretty grimaces56 expressive57 of discontent which Isabel from time to time, when the visitors were not looking, confided58 to Seth. It was a very dull afternoon.
The venerable Mr. Pratt, a weazen, verbose59 little “gentleman-farmer,” who wore a huge black satin stock over his high flaring60 collar opening behind, and remained clean-shaven, in pious61 memory of Henry Clay and the coon campaign, sat on the edge of his chair and droned commonplaces by the hour. He evidently had an axe62 to grind by his visit, and he was much disappointed by Albert’s absence. But if he could not see “the coming Congressman,” as he called him once or twice, and sound that new political magnate as to his own renomination for the Assembly, he could at least enjoy the monopoly of a long conversation with the Editor of the Tecumseh Chronicle, and impress that young man with the breadth and value of his views. So Seth was forced to spend three dreary63 hours, answering as briefly64 as might be, listening wearily, and stealing stray glances at the three young women, who made a brighter group on the other side of the parlor stove. Once or twice he tried tentatively to engraft himself upon their conversation, and choke old Elhanan off, but the solemn little bore relentlessly65 brought him back to the dry bones of politics. Thus it happened that he had barely had an opportunity of exchanging a word with his cousin Annie, when she stood up and said, “I must be going.”
He walked over to her now, and put his hand in a brotherly way on her shoulder, as he helped her on with her cloak.
“I’ve scarcely had a word with you, Annie,” he said, smiling. “How is your grandmother? I needn’t ask how you are. You grow prettier everyday. And how do you get on with your school?”—for the girl was now teaching in the district school house over the hill.
She answered, “Oh, grandmother is about the same; perhaps a little weaker, but as bright mentally as ever. You are looking well, Seth, and quite the man now. Your beard becomes you—doesn’t it, Isabel? We are so sorry you can’t come to-morrow night. We see so little of you since you have become a city man.”
“Sorry that I can’t come!” repeated Seth after her.
“Come where?” Isabel interposed with a ready explanation. “There is to be a husking over at Crump’s to-morrow evening—the first of the season. There will be a big party of young people, and Crump sent over by Annie an invitation for us. But I have explained that you are here on business, which may very likely occupy you to-morrow evening, and that in any case you would have to write your leaders for the next day’s paper. We are ever so sorry, Annie,” she added, turning to the school-teacher now, “but you know this is a terribly busy time with Seth, and we mustn’t think of letting our little country sociables interfere66 with his work. Some time, soon, he will come for a real vacation, instead of a flying business trip, and then we can monopolize67 him—and we will, too, won’t we, Annie?”
Annie smiled, a little faintly, as if her heart were not altogether in it, and replied, “Yes, to be sure we will.” She added, to Seth, “I won’t say goodbye. I suppose I shall see you again.”
He assented68, and went to the door with her, and stood on the steps watching her as she walked away in the autumn dusk. Decidedly she was a pretty girl!
The Pratts, father and daughter, consented upon the shadowiest suggestion of an invitation to stay and partake of the picked-up Sunday tea, and that involved their spending the evening. Aunt Sabrina came in, and the talk was dreary and general. So “Jeff Briggs” and his amatory affairs went over to the morrow.
In the morning Seth walked over to Thessaly and saw John. The interview depressed69 him. John had had some idea of following the Chronicle’s lead, and bolting the State ticket, but the county politicians had bullied70 him out of the thing by threatening the destruction of the job-printing business connected with the Banner of Liberty, and the boycotting71 of the paper itself. All his inclinations72, too, were toward Ansdell in the Congressional race; but Albert had loaned him some money, and, beside, he couldn’t see his way clear to disregarding, openly at least, the fraternal tie. He was consequently in a savage73 mood.
“I’m thinking of taking out the head-line of the paper this week,” he growled74, with a sardonic75 humor, “and putting in instead a cut of a runaway76 slave, with a bundle over his shoulder, which is in the job-room here, left over from the days when there was slavery in New York State, and masters used to advertise in the old paper for fugitives77. ‘Banner of Liberty ’ indeed! By heaven, it ought to be ‘Banner of Bondage78!”
There was no comfort or profit in discussing the situation, either general or local, with John. He neither knew nor cared, he swore, what Albert’s chances were to dissolve the deadlock79 on the morrow. He might or he mightn’t; it was all one to him, and apparently80 to the party, who were the——!
Seth left John to his bad temper and language, and returned to the farm in the afternoon. A telegram from Albert awaited him.
“New York, Oct. 19.—If possible conclude business, home to-night, at latest to-morrow morning. Wait for me at all hazards.—Albert.”
To provide against a possible delay over Tuesday, Seth devoted81 the afternoon, and the earlier part of the evening, to writing matter for his paper, which Dana was to convey to Thessaly for the early morning train, when he went to the cheese-factory. If Albert was coming at all that night, he would arrive about eight.
Nine o’clock came. Aunt Sabrina, after sitting in stem silence by the living-room stove for an hour or two, looking at the wall-paper as her brother Lemuel had been won’t to do, went up to bed with a frigid82 “good night.” The farm people had all retired83 with the chickens, long before.
Scarcely raising his eyes from his writing, Seth remarked:
“How Aunt Sabrina has failed since I left the farm! She grows ever so much like father. Poor old woman, she was so eager to have Albert come here, so elated with the idea that the family was to be restored to social and political dignity again—and now the apples seem to be all dead-sea fruit to her. I can’t see that she takes the slightest interest in Albert’s campaign. Odd, isn’t it?”
Isabel was sitting near the stove, around the corner of the table from him. The reddish radiance reflected down from the shaded lamp fell upon her rounded chin and her smooth white neck, dainty in tint as the ruffle84 in which it lost itself. Above this lace at the back, as she bent85 over her embroidery86, some stray curling wisps of hair gleamed like gold in the light. She replied:
“It isn’t that at all. She’s interested enough in the Congress idea, or would be if she hadn’t something else on her mind. The prying87 old piece found out, by quizzing Dana, about our writing to each other. She has got it into her ridiculous old head, I feel sure, that there is something between us. Didn’t you notice the way she eyed us at the dinner table yesterday?”
Seth did not answer. His article was unfinished, but he suddenly found himself in doubt whether it was not already long enough. He reflected, or tried to reflect, for a moment, while the soft tones of her voice murmured in his ears, then added a sentence which might serve as a conclusion, and scrawled89 a dash underneath90.
“There! I’m through!” he said, and looked up.
Her eyes were fixed upon his face. They were in the shadow of the tinted91 lamp-shade, but they had a light of their own—a languorous92, alluring93 glow. He had never looked into such eyes before; they fascinated him, and he knew, in a delicious trembling, that his own were answering them in kind.
“You can read to me now,” she said, the rapt, wistful gaze melting into a smile. “He will not come to-night.”
Seth took the story, as she gave it to him from her workbox, and glanced over it to pick up the thread of the narrative94 where it had been dropped. As he was still thus engaged, he felt her hand laid upon his, and, as their eyes met again, heard her low, soft voice murmur88:
“Do you know why I declined our invitation for the husking?”
There was a silence, which the young man felt that his face made full of acquiescent meaning.
She answered her own question: “I wanted you here, all for myself.”
Seth lost himself in an uplifting, floating sensation of ethereal beatitude. Her hand was in his now, warm and palpitating, and he raised it to his lips. It was difficult to breathe, but the oppression in his breast was all delight. He rose to his feet, his arms outstretched, his heart beating in exultant36 tumult95. He heard her whisper—he could scarcely see her for the magnetic waving before his eyes—the refrain of the story: “So strong and yet so gentle!” His lips were formed for the passionate96 utterance—already framed in his heart—“My darling!” when there came the sound of footsteps on the path without, and of a hand upon the latch97.
Seth mechanically took up the manuscript of his article, and turned toward the door. Beneath an impassive mien98, far more composed than he dared to hope, there was the sensation of being hurled99 down, down, through the air, to unwelcome earth.
It was Albert. He looked at the two cursorily100 but closely, and only said, as he tossed his bag into a chair:
“Train was late. You go to bed at once, Isabel. I have particular business with Seth.”
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1
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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thrifty
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| adj.节俭的；兴旺的；健壮的 | |
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gratuitous
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| adj.无偿的，免费的；无缘无故的，不必要的 | |
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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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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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complaisant
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| adj.顺从的，讨好的 | |
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acquiescent
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| adj.默许的，默认的 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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conjugal
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| adj.婚姻的，婚姻性的 | |
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fetter
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| n./vt.脚镣，束缚 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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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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hazy
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scarlet
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fluffy
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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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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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clandestine
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| adj.秘密的，暗中从事的 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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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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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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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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azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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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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55
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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grimaces
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| n.（表蔑视、厌恶等）面部扭曲，鬼脸( grimace的名词复数 )v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的第三人称单数 ) | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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verbose
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| adj.用字多的；冗长的；累赘的 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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relentlessly
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| adv.不屈不挠地；残酷地；不间断 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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monopolize
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| v.垄断，独占，专营 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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boycotting
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| 抵制，拒绝参加( boycott的现在分词 ) | |
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inclinations
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| 倾向( inclination的名词复数 )； 倾斜； 爱好； 斜坡 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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deadlock
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| n.僵局，僵持 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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ruffle
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| v.弄皱，弄乱；激怒，扰乱；n.褶裥饰边 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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languorous
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| adj.怠惰的，没精打采的 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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cursorily
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| adv.粗糙地，疏忽地，马虎地 | |
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