Ben Lawton’s second wife—for she herself scarcely thought of “Mrs. Lawton” as a title appertaining to her condition of ill-requited servitude—had become possessed1 of some new clothes. Their monetary2 value was not large, but they were warm and respectable, with bugle3 trimming on the cloak, and a feather rising out of real velvet4 on the bonnet5; and they were new all together at the same time, a fact which impressed her mind by its novelty even more than did the inherent charm of acquisition.
To go out in this splendid apparel was an obvious duty. Where to go was less clear. The notion of going shopping loomed6 in the background of Mrs. Lawton’s thoughts for a while, but in a formless and indistinct way, and then disappeared again. Her mind was not civilized7 enough to assimilate the idea of loitering around among the stores when she had no money with which to buy anything.
Gradually the conception of a visit to her step-Jessica took shape in her imagination.
Perhaps the fact that she owed her new clothes to the bounty8 of this girl helped forward this decision. There was also a certain curiosity to see the child who was Ben’s grandson, and so indirectly9 related to her, and for whose anomalous10 existence there was more than one precedent11 in her own family, and who might turn out to resemble her own little lost Alonzo. But the consideration which primarily dictated12 her choice was that there was no other place to go to.
Her reception by Jessica, when she finally found her way by Samantha’s complicated directions to the shop, was satisfactorily cordial. She was allowed to linger for a time in the show-room, and satiate bewilderment over the rich plumes13, and multi-colored velvets and ribbons there displayed; then she was taken into the domestic part of the building, where she was asked like a real visitor to take off her cloak and bonnet, and sat down to enjoy the unheard-of luxury of seeing somebody else getting a “meal of victuals” ready. The child was playing by himself back of the stove with some blocks. He seemed to take no interest in his new relation, and Mrs. Lawton saw that if Alonzo had lived he would not have looked like this boy, who was blonde and delicate, with serious eyes and flaxen curls, and a high, rather protuberant14 forehead.
The brevet grandmother heard with surprise from Lucinda that this five-year-old child already knew most of his letters. She stole furtive15 glances at him after this, from time to time, and as soon as Jessica had gone out into the store and closed the door she asked:
“Don’t his head look to you like water on the brain?”
Lucinda shook her head emphatically: “He’s healthy enough,” she said.
“And his name’s Horace, you say?”
“Yes, that’s what I said,” replied the girl.
Mrs. Lawton burned to ask what other name the lad bore, but the peremptory16 tones of her daughter warned her off. Instead she remarked: “And so he’s been livin’ in Tecumseh all this while? They seem to have brung him up pretty good—teachin’ him his A B C’s and curlin’ his hair.”
“He had a good home. Jess paid high, and the people took a liking17 to him,” said Lucinda.
“I s’pose they died or broke up housekeepin’,” tentatively suggested Mrs. Lawton.
“No: Jess wanted him here, or thought she did.” Lucinda’s loyalty18 to her sister prompted her to stop the explanation at this. But she herself had been sorely puzzled and tried by the change which had come over the little household since the night of the boy’s arrival, and the temptation to put something of this into words was too strong to be mastered.
“I wish myself he hadn’t come at all,” she continued from the table where she was at work. “Not but that he’s a good enough young-one, and lots of company for us both, but Jess ain’t been herself at all since she brought him here. It ain’t his fault—poor little chap—but she fetched him from Tecumseh on account of something special; and then that something didn’t seem to come off, and she’s as blue as a whetstone about it, and that makes everything blue. And there we are!”
Lucinda finished in a sigh, and proceeded to rub grease on the inside of her cake tins with a gloomy air.
In the outer shop, Jessica found herself standing19 surprised and silent before the sudden apparition20 of a visitor whom she had least of all expected—Miss Kate Minster.
The bell which formerly21 jangled when the street door opened had been taken off because it interfered22 with the child’s mid-day sleep, and Jessica herself had been so deeply lost in a brown study where she sat sewing behind the counter that she had not noted23 the entrance of the young lady until she stood almost within touch. Then she rose hurriedly, and stood confused and tongue-tied, her work in hand. She dropped this impediment when Miss Minster offered to shake hands with her, but even this friendly greeting did not serve to restore her self-command or induce a smile.
“I have a thousand apologies to make for leaving you alone all this while,” said Kate. “But—we have been so troubled of late—and, selfish like, I have forgotten everything else. Or no—I won’t say that—for I have thought a great deal about you and your work. And now you must tell me all about both.”
Miss Minster had seated herself as she spoke24, and loosened the boa about her throat, but Jessica remained standing. She idly noted that no equipage and coachman were in waiting outside, and let the comment drift to her tongue. “You walked, I see,” she said.
“Yes,” replied Kate. “It isn’t pleasant to take out the horses now. The streets are full of men out of work, and they blame us for it, and to see us drive about seems to make them angry. I suppose it’s a natural enough feeling; but the boys pelted25 our coachman with snowballs the other day, while my sister and I were driving, and the men on the corner all laughed and encouraged them. But if I walk nobody molests26 me.”
The young lady, as she said this with an air of modest courage, had never looked so beautiful before in Jessica’s eyes, or appealed so powerfully to her liking and admiration27. But the milliner was conscious of an invasion of other and rival feelings which kept her face smileless and hardened the tone of her voice.
“Yes, the men feel very bitterly,” she said. “I know that from the girls. A good many of them—pretty nearly all, for that matter—have stopped coming here, since the lockout, because your money furnished the Resting House. That shows how strong the feeling is.”
“You amaze me!”
There was no pretence28 in Miss Kate’s emotion. She looked at Jessica with wide-open eyes, and the astonishment29 in the gaze visibly softened30 and saddened into genuine pain. “Oh, I am so sorry!” she said. “I never thought of that. Tell me—what can be done? How can we get that cruel notion out of their heads? I did so truly want to help the girls. Surely there must be some way of making them realize this. The closing of the works, that is a business matter with which I had nothing to do, and which I didn’t approve; but this plan of yours, that was really a pet of mine. It is only by a stupid accident that I did not come here often, and get to know the girls, and show them how interested I was in everything. When Mr. Tracy spoke of you yesterday, I resolved to come at once, and tell you how ashamed I was.”
Jessica’s heart was deeply stirred by this speech, and filled with yearnings of tenderness toward the beautiful and good patrician31. But some strange, undefined force in her mind held all this softness in subjection.
“The girls are gone,” she said, almost coldly. “They will not come back—at least for a long time, until all this trouble is forgotten.”
“They hate me too much,” groaned32 Kate, in grieved self-abasement.
“They don’t know you! What they think of is that it is the Minster money; that is what they hate. To take away from the men with a shovel33, and give back to the girls with a spoon—they won’t stand that!” The latent class-feeling of a factory town flamed up in Jessica’s bosom34, intolerant and vengeful, as she listened to her own words. “I would feel like that myself, if I were in their place,” she said, in curt35 conclusion.
The daughter of the millions sat for a little in pained irresolution36. She was conscious of impulses toward anger at the coldness, almost the rudeness, of this girl whom she had gone far out of and beneath her way to assist. Her own class-feeling, too, subtly prompted her to dismiss with contempt the thought of these thick-fingered, uncouth37 factory-girls who were rejecting her well-meant bounty. But kindlier feelings strove within her mind, too, and kept her for the moment undecided.
She looked up at Jessica, as if in search for help, and her woman’s heart suddenly told her that the changes in the girl’s face, vaguely38 apparent to her before, were the badges of grief and unrest. All the annoyance39 she had been nursing fled on the instant. Her eyes moistened, and she laid her hand softly on the other’s arm.
“You at least mustn’t think harshly of me,” she said with a smile. “That would be too sad. I would give a great deal if the furnaces could be opened to-morrow—if they had never been shut. Not even the girls whose people are out of work feel more deeply about the thing than I do. But—after all, time must soon set that right. Tell me about yourself. You are not looking well. Is there nothing I can do for you?”
An answering moisture came into Jessica’s eyes as she met the other’s look. She shook her head, and withdrew her wrist from the kindly40 pressure of Kate’s hand.
“I spoke of you at length with Mr. Tracy,” Kate went on, gently. “Do believe that we are both anxious to do all we can for you, in whatever form you like. You have never spoken about more money for the Resting House. Isn’t your store about exhausted41? If it is, don’t hesitate for a moment to let me know. And mayn’t I go and see the house, now that I am here? You know I have never been inside it once since you took it.”
For a second or two Jessica hesitated. It cost her a great deal to maintain the unfriendly attitude she had taken up, and she was hopelessly at sea as to why she was paying this price for unalloyed unhappiness. Yet still she persisted doggedly42, and as it were in spite of herself.
“It’s a good deal run down just now,” she said. “Since the trouble came, Lucinda and I haven’t kept it up. You’d like better to see it some time when it was in order; that is, if I—if it isn’t given up altogether!”
The despairing intonation43 of these closing words was not lost upon Kate. She looked up quickly.
“Why do you speak like that?” she said. “Are you discouraged, Jessica? Oh, I hope it isn’t as bad as that!”
“I’m thinking a good deal of going away. You and Miss Wilcox can put somebody else here, and keep open the house. It doesn’t need me. My heart isn’t in it any more.”
The girl forced herself through these words with a mournful effort. The hot tears came to her eyes before she had finished, and she turned away abruptly44, walking behind the counter to the front of the shop.
Miss Minster rose and went to her. “There is something you are not telling me, my child,” she urged with tender earnestness. “What is it? Are you in trouble? Tell me. Let me help you!”
“There is nothing—nothing at all,” Jessica made answer. “Only I am not happy here. It was a mistake to come. And there are—other things—that were a mistake, too.”
“Why not confide45 in me, dear? Why not let me help you?”
“How could you help me?” The girl spoke with momentary46 impatience47. “There are things that money can’t help.”
The rich young lady drew herself up instinctively48, and tightened49 the fur about her neck. The words affected50 her almost like an affront51.
“I’m very sorry,” she said, with an obvious cooling of manner. “I did not mean money alone. I had hoped you felt I was your friend. And I still want to be, if occasion arises. I shall be very much grieved, indeed, if you do not let me know, at any and all times, when I can be of use to you.”
She held out her hand, evidently as an indication that she was going. Jessica saw the hand through a mist of smarting tears, and took it, not daring to look up. She was filled with longings52 to kiss this hand, to cry out for forgiveness, to cast herself upon the soft shelter of this sweet friendship, so sweetly proffered53. But there was some strange spell which held her back, and, still through the aching film of tears, she saw the gloved hand withdrawn54. A soft “good-by” spread its pathos55 upon the silence about her, and then Miss Minster was gone.
Jessica stood for a time, looking blankly into the street. Then she turned and walked with unconscious directness, as in a dream, through the back rooms and across the yard to the Resting House. She had passed her stepmother, her sister, and her child without bestowing56 a glance upon them, and she wandered now through the silent building aimlessly, without power to think of what she saw. Although the furniture was still of the most primitive57 and unpretentious sort, there were many little appliances for the comfort of the girls, in which she had had much innocent delight. The bath-rooms on the upper floor, the willow58 rocking-chairs in the sitting-room59, the neat row of cups and saucers in the glassfaced cupboard, the magazines and pattern books on the table—all these it had given her pleasure to contemplate60 only a fortnight ago. Now they were nothing to her. She noted that the fire in the base-burner had gone out, though the reservoir still seemed full of coal. She was conscious of a vague sense of fitness in its having gone out. The fire that had burned within her heart was in ashes, too. She put her apron61 to her eyes and wept vehemently62, here in solitude63.
Lucinda came out, nearly an hour later, to find her sister sitting disconsolate64 by the fireless stove, shivering with the cold, and staring into vacancy65.
She put her broad arm with maternal66 kindness around Jessica’s waist, and led her unresisting toward the door. “Never mind, sis,” she murmured, with clumsy sympathy. “Come in and play with Horace.”
Jessica, shuddering67 again with the chill, buried her face on her sister’s shoulder, and wept supinely. There was not an atom of courage remaining in her heart.
“You are low down and miserable,” pursued Lucinda, compassionately68. “I’ll make you up some boneset tea. It’ll be lucky if you haven’t caught your death a-cold out here so long.” She had taken a shawl, which hung in the hallway, and wrapped it about her sister’s shoulders.
“I half wish I had,” sobbed69 Jessica. “There’s no fight left in me any more.”
“What’s the matter, anyway?”
“If I knew myself,” the girl groaned in answer, “perhaps I could do something; but I don’t. I can’t think, I can’t eat or sleep or work. O God! what is the matter with me?”
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1
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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monetary
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| adj.货币的，钱的；通货的；金融的；财政的 | |
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bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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7
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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indirectly
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| adv.间接地，不直接了当地 | |
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anomalous
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| adj.反常的；不规则的 | |
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precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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13
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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protuberant
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| adj.突出的，隆起的 | |
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furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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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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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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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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pelted
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| （连续地）投掷( pelt的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续抨击； 攻击； 剥去…的皮 | |
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26
molests
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| n.骚扰( molest的名词复数 )；干扰；调戏；猥亵v.骚扰( molest的第三人称单数 )；干扰；调戏；猥亵 | |
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27
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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30
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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31
patrician
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| adj.贵族的，显贵的；n.贵族；有教养的人；罗马帝国的地方官 | |
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32
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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33
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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irresolution
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| n.不决断，优柔寡断，犹豫不定 | |
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uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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42
doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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43
intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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44
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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45
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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46
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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47
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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48
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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49
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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50
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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51
affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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52
longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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53
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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55
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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56
bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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57
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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58
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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59
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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60
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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63
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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64
disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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65
vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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66
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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67
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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68
compassionately
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| adv.表示怜悯地，有同情心地 | |
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69
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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