“Well, Charley my boy,” said Sir Philip Vining, a few mornings after, “you must keep the ball rolling. You are going along swimmingly. But ladies like plenty of attentions. What are you going to do next? Can’t you get up something fresh? Don’t spare for money, my boy: I’ve—that is, we’ve plenty, you know; and I like to be lavish1 as far as the income allows. It’s an old-fashioned idea of mine, Charley, that it is the duty of a landlord, deriving2 a handsome revenue from a neighbourhood, to spend that revenue liberally in his district. It’s no waste, you know; it is all distributed amongst the people, and does some good. By the way, though, I think you might be a little more attentive3 to Laura. She’s a fine girl, Charley: perhaps a little too masculine; but it’s surprising how love and matrimony soften4 down that class of women. I saw you with her yesterday along with that Miss Bedford or Rutland—which was her name?”
“Bedford,” said Charley quietly.
“To be sure—Bedford,” said the old gentleman; “and the children. Seems a very ladylike young person. I was rather taken with her nice, sad, gentle face. One can almost read trouble in it. Pity a girl like her should have to lead such a life as that of a governess!”
Charley was silent; and Sir Philip, seeing him thoughtful, took up the paper.
And indeed Charley Vining was thoughtful and troubled in mind. He had encountered Ella twice since the day of the fête, to find her cold and distant. But then she had been in the company of Laura. All the same, though, it struck him as strange that the haughty5 beauty should have taken it into her head to accompany her in her walks: it looked like supervising her actions; and again and again Charley reverted6 to Nelly’s warning, and longed for a few words with her; but so far it was in vain. He had called twice, to meet Laura and Mrs Bray7, Max having returned to town. His reception had been most flattering, and there was a gentle, retiring way with Laura that troubled him; for he felt that he must be giving her pain, and his was too generous a disposition8 to suffer in peace the knowledge that he was causing others trouble or care. But call or walk, save in the society of Laura, neither Nelly nor Ella could be seen; and leaving Sir Philip immersed in the day’s news, Charley left the room, went round to the stables, and had his mare9 saddled.
Still no luck. He did not even see them that day; and time slipped by without fortune smiling upon him. He called again and again at the Elms; but Nelly and her governess were always invisible, while Laura was still more gentle and retiring. Once he asked to see Nelly, and she was fetched down, evidently longing10 to take him into her confidence; but opportunity was not afforded; and at last one morning, with the feeling strong upon him that Laura was playing a part, and that he was being debarred from seeing Ella alone, Charley sat listening to the pleasant banter12 of Sir Philip over the breakfast-table, till, seeing his son’s moody13 looks, the old gentleman became serious; for his conversation had all turned upon Charley’s visits to the Elms, and his great love for woodland and meadow rambles14.
“Why, my dear boy,” Sir Philip had said, “I’d no idea that I was going to make such a solemn fellow of you. Certainly matrimony should be taken au sérieux; but I’m afraid the lady is hard to win.”
A few minutes after Sir Philip rose; for Charley had turned uneasily in his chair, so that his face was averted16.
“My dear Charley,” said the old gentleman, going round the table, and making the young man start as he felt that loving hand laid upon his shoulder,—“my dear Charley, I have hurt your feelings in some way. Pray forgive me.”
Charley groaned17.
“My dear boy,” said Sir Philip, “what does this mean? Surely my old-womanish babbling19 has not upset you like this! It was only lightly meant. Or is there something wrong?”
Charley turned his face to his father’s for an instant, but only to avert15 it again.
“Is it anything to do with money, Charley?” said the old gentleman. “But pooh—nonsense! It isn’t that, I know. Your personal expenses are ridiculously small. Why, I expected that by this time you would have half ruined yourself in jewellery presents. What is it, Charley? Can you not confide11 in me?”
“No, father,” cried Charley, starting angrily to his feet, and overturning his chair; “I have been showing you for the past month that I cannot. But I can stand this no longer,” he cried, striding up and down the room; “for it is not in my nature to play the hypocrite!”
“Hypocrite, Charley! My dear boy, what is it?”
“What is it!” exclaimed Charley fiercely. “You think that I am going day after day to some assignation with that—that—that—with Laura Bray!”
“Good heavens, Charley! what does this mean?”
“Mean, father! Why, that I am a hypocrite, and deceiving one who has always been generous and kind. It means, too, that my life has been turned to gall20 and bitterness; for I am going about like some puling boy, seeking in vain for a kind word from the woman who has robbed me of all that seems bright in life.”
“But, Charley, what does this mean? I thought—I felt sure—”
“Yes,” cried Charley bitterly; “and I was so mean, so base and contemptible21, as to let you believe that I loved Laura Bray, and ask her here, as if—Heaven forgive me!—I blushed for my love for a woman who—There, I can’t talk of it—I can’t enter into it. Father, why did you stop the even tenor22 of my life? But no!” he cried, as he recalled his first meeting, “it was not your doing. I am half mad with disappointment, and know not what I say. A few weeks ago, and I could mock at the word Love, while now it is as though something was robbing me of sleep by night, rest by day, and my old zest23 for life. Father, I tell you I love—and love almost madly—a woman who rejects my suit, who turns from me, while every effort to see her now seems to be frustrated24.”
“But, Charley,” cried the old man, his hands trembling with agitation25, as, following his son about the room, he sought to drive away the suspicion that was beginning to enlighten him, “who is this lady? You are too timid—too diffident. Surely no one we know would refuse you. Pooh! my dear boy, you have taken the distemper almost too strongly,” he continued, with a forced laugh. “But who is it?—one of the Miss Lingons?”
Charley turned angrily upon him, as if suspecting him of banter, but only to see truth and earnestness in the old man’s troubled countenance26.
“Father,” he said calmly, “I love Ella Bedford.”
“Who? Miss Bedford?” cried the old man excitedly. “You are joking with me, my boy,” he said huskily; “and it is ungenerous, Charley. You know how I have set my mind on this—on your marriage—our pedigree, my son, our ancient lineage. Think, Charley, of your position.”
“I do, father,” said Charley sternly.
“But, my boy,” exclaimed Sir Philip angrily, “it is madness! You, soon to be a baronet, with one of the finest rent-rolls in the county, and to stoop to a governess!”
“To a lady, father!” cried Charley fiercely now, as he stood facing Sir Philip. “You told me you wished me to marry. Can I govern my own heart? I told you once that I did not believe so good and pure a woman as my dear mother lived on this earth. I retract27 it now, and own, father, that it was said in the blind ignorance of my foolish conceit28; for I know now that there are women walking this lower earth of ours whom I cruelly calumniated29, for they might be taken as the types of the angels above. Father, I love one of these women with a strong man’s first fierce love—with the passion long chained, now almost at your bidding let loose, and before heaven I swear that—”
“For heaven’s sake be silent, Charley, my dear child!” cried Sir Philip almost frantically30, as he laid his hand on his son’s lips.
Then with a groan18 he shrank away, staggered to his chair, and buried his face in his hands, while with face working, brow flushed, and the veins31 standing32 out in his forehead, Charley stood struggling between the two loves, when he turned; for the door opened, and the servant handed to him a letter that made his face flush a deeper hue33.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
lavish
|
|
| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
deriving
|
|
| v.得到( derive的现在分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
attentive
|
|
| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
soften
|
|
| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
reverted
|
|
| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
bray
|
|
| n.驴叫声, 喇叭声；v.驴叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
mare
|
|
| n.母马，母驴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
confide
|
|
| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
banter
|
|
| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
moody
|
|
| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
rambles
|
|
| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
avert
|
|
| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
averted
|
|
| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
groan
|
|
| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
babbling
|
|
| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
gall
|
|
| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
contemptible
|
|
| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
tenor
|
|
| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
zest
|
|
| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
frustrated
|
|
| adj.挫败的，失意的，泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的过去式和过去分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
agitation
|
|
| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
retract
|
|
| vt.缩回，撤回收回，取消 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
conceit
|
|
| n.自负，自高自大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
calumniated
|
|
| v.诽谤，中伤( calumniate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
frantically
|
|
| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
hue
|
|
| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |