He was rash in everything. When the Colonel asked him down to Coton Manor2 for a fortnight, he accepted the invitation (with much pleasure) by return, and lay awake half the night with joyous3 anticipation4. He was in the train steaming into the Midlands before he realized that he knew nothing of his host beyond a vague family tradition. He was his (Durant's) godfather; he was a retired5 Colonel of militia6; he had given him (Durant) a hideous7 silver cup; but this was the first time he had given him an invitation. There was something more, too. Durant had spent the last seven years exploring every country but his own, and he was out of touch with family tradition; but now he thought of it he had—he certainly had—a distinct recollection of hearing his father say that of all his numerous acquaintance that fellow Tancred was quite the most intolerable bore.
He had been a little precipitate8. Still, he said to himself, England was England, and if there was any fishing on the Colonel's land, or a decent mount in his stables, he thought he could pull through. Mrs. [Pg 222] Tancred was dead; he did not certainly know that there was a Miss Tancred, but if there were he meant to flirt9 with her, and if the worst came to the worst he could always sketch1 her (the unsketchable!).
He had had plenty of time for anticipation during the slow journey on the branch line from the junction10. The train crawled and burrowed11 into the wooded heart of the Midlands, passed a village, a hamlet, a few scattered12 houses, puffed13 and panted through endless lengths of arable14 and pasture land, drew up exhausted15 at the little wayside station of Whithorn-in-Arden, and left him in that prosaic16 wilderness17 a prey18 to the intolerable bore.
As ill-luck would have it, he had arrived at Coton Manor three hours before dinner. At the first sight of his host he had made up his mind that the Colonel would have nothing to say that could possibly keep him going for more than three minutes, yet the Colonel had talked for two hours. Durant had been counting the buttons on the Colonel's waistcoat and the minutes on the drawing-room clock, and wondering when it would be dinnertime. Once or twice he had caught himself looking round the room for some sign or token of Miss Tancred. He believed in her with a blind, unquestioning belief, but beyond a work-basket, a grand piano, and some atrocious water-colors, he could discover no authentic19 traces of her presence. The room kept its own dull counsel. It was one of those curious provincial20 interiors that seem somehow to be soulless and sexless in their unfathomable reserve. It was more than comfortable, it was opulent, luxurious21; but the divine touch was wanting. It made Durant wonder whether there really was a Miss Tancred, much as you might doubt the existence of a God from the lapses22 in his creation. Still, he believed in her because [Pg 223] there was nothing else to believe in. He had gathered from the Colonel's conversation that there was no fishing on his land, and no animal in his stables but the respectable and passionless pair that brought him from the station.
Could it be that there was no Miss Tancred?
Durant, already veering23 toward scepticism, had been about to plunge24 into the depths of bottomless negation25 when the Colonel rose punctually at the stroke of seven.
"My daughter," he had said, "my daughter will be delighted to make your acquaintance."
And Durant had replied that he would be delighted to make Miss Tancred's.
There was nothing else to be delighted about. He had divined pretty clearly that Miss Tancred's society would be the only entertainment offered to him during his stay, and the most outrageous26 flirtation27 would be justifiable28 in the circumstances; he had seen himself driven to it in sheer desperation and self-defense; he had longed hopelessly, inexpressibly, for the return of the absconding29 deity30; he had looked on Miss Tancred as his hope, his angel, his deliverer. That she had not been at home to receive him seemed a little odd, but on second thoughts he had been glad of it. He would have distrusted any advances on her part as arguing a certain poverty of personal resource. Presumably Miss Tancred could afford a little indifference31, a touch of divine disdain32. And if indeed she had used absence as an art to stimulate33 his devotion, she was to be congratulated on her success. His dream had been nourished on this ambrosial34 uncertainty35.
Upstairs in his bedroom mere36 emotional belief in Miss Tancred had risen to rational conviction. The first aspect of the guest-chamber had inspired him with [Pg 224] a joyous credulity. It wooed him with its large and welcoming light, its four walls were golden white and warm, and in all its details he had found unmistakable evidences of design. There was an overruling coquetry in the decorative37 effects, in the minute little arrangements for his comfort. A finer hand than any housemaid's must have heaped that blue china bowl with roses, laid out that writing-table, and chosen the books in the shelf beside the bed. A woman is known by her books as by her acquaintance, and he had judged of the mind of this maiden38, turning over the pages with a thrill of sensuous39 curiosity. This charming Providence40 had fitted his mood to perfection with these little classics of the hour, by authors too graceful41 and urbane42 to bore a poor mortal with their immortality43. Adorable Miss Tancred! He was in love with her before sight, at half-sight.
For at the sound of a punctual gong he had hurried out on to the stairs, a door had opened on some unseen landing, he had heard a woman's step on the flight below; he had listened, he had watched, and as he caught the turn of her head, the rustle44 and gleam of her gown, some divine and cloudy color, silver or lavender or airy blue, he had been radiantly certain that his vision had passed before him. Down there somewhere it was making itself incarnate45 in the unknown. He felt already its reviving presence, the mysterious aura of its womanhood.
Hitherto his imagination had been guided by a profound sense of the justice that is in things. Destiny who had brought him to this deceitful place owed him compensation for the fraud, and an apology in person was really no more than his due. What if Miss Tancred were she, the supremely46 feminine, Destiny herself? [Pg 225]
Under the echoing gallery the drawing-room had opened and closed upon her, and he had followed, his nerves tingling47 with the familiar prophetic thrill.
And this was Miss Tancred?
To begin with, he had never seen a woman more execrably dressed. No doubt it is the first duty of a woman's gown to clothe her, but apparently48 Miss Tancred's gown had a Puritan conscience, an almost morbid49 sense of its duty. It more than clothed her, it covered her up as if she had been a guilty secret; there was concealment50 and disguise in every crease51 of the awful garment. In its imperishable prudery it refused to define her by ever so innocent a curve; all its folds were implicated52 in a conspiracy53 against her sex. The effect, though striking, was obviously unstudied and inevitable54, and he argued charitably that Miss Tancred was attired55, not after her own mysterious and perverse56 fancy, but according to some still more mysterious and perverse doom57. Happily she seemed unconscious of her appearance, and this unconsciousness had saved her.
For Miss Tancred was plain; and the irritating thing about her plainness was that it, at any rate, was not inevitable. She had had a hair's-breadth escape of being handsome in a somewhat original and eccentric way. And so her plainness was insistent58; it would not let you alone, but forced you to look at it, worrying you with perpetual suggestions of the beauty it might have been. Her black hair grew low on the center of her forehead, whence it rose describing a semicircle above each temple; she had a short and salient Roman nose, black eyes, and straight black brows laid like an accent on the jutting59 eyebones. Her mouth—there might have been hope for her in her mouth, but for its singular unreadiness to smile; there was no hope for [Pg 226] her in her sallow skin, the dull droop60 of her eyelids61, her whole insupportable air of secrecy62 and reserve. A woman has no business to look like that.
There could be no hope for any woman whom Maurice Durant had pronounced unsketchable. He was tolerant with the tolerance63 of a clever young modern painter, trained to look for beauty (and find it, too) in the most unlikely places. He could find no beauty in Miss Tancred. She was useless for his purposes. Those lips had never learned to flirt, to chatter64, to sing, to do anything spontaneous and natural and pleasing.
He shook hands with her in a paralytic65 manner, battering66 his brains for a reply to her polite commonplaces. Inwardly he was furious. He felt that he had been duped, tricked, infamously67 cheated of his legitimate68 desire; and he hated the woman as if she, poor soul, had been personally responsible.
It had bored him to listen to the Colonel, and he was sure it would bore him still more to talk to Miss Tancred; but for ten minutes he did his best to sustain a miraculous69 flow of sparkling monologue70. If Miss Tancred was going to bore him, at any rate it would not be by her conversation. Some plain women he had known who had overcome plainness by vivacity71 and charm. Not so Miss Tancred. Being plainer than most she was bound to make a more than ordinary effort, yet she had adopted the ways of a consummately72 pretty woman who knows that nothing further is required of her. Did she think that he would go on forever battering his brains to create conversation out of nothing, when she clearly intimated that it was not worth her while to help him? Never in his life had he met a woman who inspired him with such invincible73 repugnance74. He found himself talking to her at random75 like a man in a dream, and so indifferent to her opinion that he was [Pg 227] not in the least distressed76 at his own imbecility; and Miss Tancred, like a lady in a dream, seemed to find his attitude entirely77 natural; perhaps she had read a similar antagonism78 in the faces of other men. (As it happened, repugnance was an emotion that Durant had frequently felt before, and certain emphatic79 lines about his nose and mouth had apparently been drawn80 there on purpose to express it.) Anyhow, Miss Tancred made no attempt to engage his attention, but turned her dull eyes to the Colonel, as if appealing to him to take the burden of Durant's entertainment on his own shoulders.
This the Colonel was perfectly81 prepared to do. It was evidently an understood thing that Miss Tancred should sit there, in that depressing attitude, while her father monopolized82 their guest. Durant hastily classified his host and hostess as the bore active and the bore passive. If Miss Tancred had ever had any interest or property in life she seemed to have made it over to the Colonel, together with a considerable portion of her youth. The Colonel wore his sixty years well out of sight, like an undergarment; you even felt that there might be something slightly indecorous in the suggestion that he wore them at all. He was alive to the finger-tips, alive in every feature of his aristocratic little face. He seemed at first rather uncertain how to take Durant, and looked him up and down as if in search of a convenient button-hole; he smiled innocently on the young man (Durant soon learned to know and dread83 that smile); nothing could have been more delicate and tentative than his approach. He had been silent for the last few minutes, lying low behind a number of the Nineteenth Century, for if he were a bore he had the dangerous power of masking his deadly qualities in an unreal absorption. At the signal that followed [Pg 228] Durant's last desperate remark the Colonel's tongue leaped as from an ambush84.
His first conversational85 maneuver86 was a feint. He inquired, with a certain affected87 indifference, what sort of weather Durant had met with on the journey down, and what sort he had left behind him in London; and then he seemed inclined to let the weather drop. But before Durant could get a word in edgeways he had taken it up again and was handling it like a master. Now he was playing with it, hovering88 round it lightly, with a tantalizing89 approach and flight; now he had gripped it tight, there was no more wandering from the point than may be seen in the vacillations of a well-behaved barometer90; the slender topic seemed to grow under his touch, to take on the proportions of his own enormous egotism; he spoke91 of last autumn and the next parish as if he were dealing92 with immensities of time and space. And now the Colonel was merged93 and lost in his theme; he was whirled along with the stream of things, with moons and meteors, winds and tides, never for an instant compromising his character as a well-behaved barometer.
Never for an instant forgetting that he was a Tancred, with a pedigree dating from the days of feudalism. And after all he looked such a gentle little fellow that Durant could almost have forgiven him. He was so beautifully finished off. You could only say of him that he was fastidious, he had the prejudices of his class. He scorned to make conversation a sordid94 traffic in ideas. At any rate, Durant felt himself released from all obligation to contribute his share.
He had given it up, and was wondering how on earth they were to get through the evening. Various dreadful possibilities occurred to him; music (Miss Tancred and Beethoven on the grand piano); family prayers; [Pg 229] cards; in some places they sat up half the night playing whist, a game that bored him to extinction95. Thank heaven, as there were but three of them, it would not be whist. Meanwhile it was past eight and no dinner bell.
As if in answer to his thoughts the Colonel turned sharply to his daughter.
"Frida, are you sure that you wrote to Mrs. Fazakerly?"
"Quite sure."
"And are you equally certain that she is coming?"
"Quite certain. Unless she has been taken ill."
"What did you say? Taken ill? Taken ill?"
"I did not say she was taken ill, papa; I said nothing but illness would keep her from coming."
"Ah, a very different thing." He turned to Durant, blushing and bridling96 in his stiff collar as if the important distinction had been a subtlety97 of his own.
He curled himself up in his chair, and Durant caught him smiling to himself, a contemplative, almost voluptuous98 smile; was it at the prospect99 of another victim?
Who the devil, he wondered, is Mrs. Fazakerly?
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收听单词发音
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1
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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4
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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militia
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| n.民兵，民兵组织 | |
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7
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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8
precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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10
junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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burrowed
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的过去式和过去分词 )；翻寻 | |
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12
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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14
arable
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| adj.可耕的，适合种植的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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19
authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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22
lapses
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| n.失误，过失( lapse的名词复数 )；小毛病；行为失检；偏离正道v.退步( lapse的第三人称单数 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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23
veering
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| n.改变的；犹豫的；顺时针方向转向；特指使船尾转向上风来改变航向v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的现在分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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24
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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negation
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| n.否定；否认 | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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justifiable
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| adj.有理由的，无可非议的 | |
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absconding
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| v.（尤指逃避逮捕）潜逃，逃跑( abscond的现在分词 ) | |
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30
deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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32
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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33
stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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34
ambrosial
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| adj.美味的 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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decorative
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| adj.装饰的，可作装饰的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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40
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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41
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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42
urbane
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| adj.温文尔雅的，懂礼的 | |
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43
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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44
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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45
incarnate
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| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
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46
supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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47
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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48
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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49
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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50
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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51
crease
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| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
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52
implicated
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| adj.密切关联的；牵涉其中的 | |
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53
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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54
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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55
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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57
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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58
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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59
jutting
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| v.（使）突出( jut的现在分词 )；伸出；（从…）突出；高出 | |
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60
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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61
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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62
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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63
tolerance
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| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
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64
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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paralytic
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| adj. 瘫痪的 n. 瘫痪病人 | |
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battering
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| n.用坏，损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
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67
infamously
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| 不名誉地 | |
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68
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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69
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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70
monologue
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| n.长篇大论，（戏剧等中的）独白 | |
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71
vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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72
consummately
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| adv.完成地，至上地 | |
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73
invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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monopolized
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| v.垄断( monopolize的过去式和过去分词 )；独占；专卖；专营 | |
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83
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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maneuver
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| n.策略[pl.]演习；v.(巧妙)控制；用策略 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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tantalizing
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| adj.逗人的；惹弄人的；撩人的；煽情的v.逗弄，引诱，折磨( tantalize的现在分词 ) | |
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barometer
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| n.气压表，睛雨表，反应指标 | |
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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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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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bridling
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的现在分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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