It proved an unnecessary precaution. The young girl presented a smiling face at the carriage window—the Tancred face, somewhat obscured by a mass of irrelevant3 detail, sandy hair, freckles4, a sanguine5 complexion6, and so on. She jumped out on to the platform with a joyous7 cry of "Fridah!" She embraced "Fridah" impetuously, and then kept her a moment at arm's length, examining her dubiously8. "You don't seem a bit glad to see me," was her verdict. She smiled gaily9 at Durant, and held out a friendly hand. All the way up from the station she conversed10 with them in a light-hearted manner. Thus:—
"What do you people do down here?"
"Ask Mr. Durant; he'll tell you that we vegetate11 all day and play whist all night."
"Oh, do you? Well, you know, I shan't. My goodness, Frida! is that your house? Whatever is it like? A Unitarian chapel12, or the Carlton Club, or, stop a bit—you don't bury people in it, do you?" Then, as it occurred to her that she might have hurt her cousin's feelings by her last suggestion, she added, "It's rather a jolly old mausoleum, though. I wonder what it's like inside."
If Miss Chatterton had any premonition of her own approaching death by boredom13, and had seen in Coton Manor14 more than a mere15 passing resemblance to a tomb, she was neither awestruck nor downcast at the prospect16 of dissolution. She flung herself into the vault17 as she had flung herself onto the platform, all glowing with pleasurable anticipation18. To Durant there was something infinitely19 sad in the spectacle of this young creature precipitating20 herself into the unknown with such reckless and passionate21 curiosity. The whole long evening through he could discover no diminution22 of her mood, her gleeful determination to [Pg 290] enjoy herself among the shades. She behaved to Colonel Tancred as if he had been a celebrity23 whose acquaintance she had long desired to make, a character replete24 with interest and romantic charm. She greeted Mrs. Fazakerly with a joyous lifting of the eyebrows25, as much as to say, "What! another delightful26 person?"
And she was observant in her way, too. When Miss Tancred put a hand on her shoulder and said, "It will be horribly dull for you, Georgie; you'll have nothing to do but talk to Mr. Durant," she replied, "H'm! Mr. Durant looks as if he had been talked to all his life. I shall talk to you, Frida."
All through dinner she managed to preserve her spirits, her air of being among the most curious and interesting people. Durant wondered how on earth she kept it up. She seemed one of those fortunate beings whose vivacity27 is so overpowering that it can subdue28 even dulness to itself. She made the Colonel look strangely old; beside her Mrs. Fazakerly seemed suddenly to become dull and second-rate, to sink into the position of an attendant, a fatuous29 chorus, a giddy satellite. Her laughter swallowed up Mrs. Fazakerly's as a river in flood devours30 its tributaries31; her spirits quenched32 Mrs. Fazakerly's as a blaze licks up a spasmodic flicker33. It pleased Durant to look at her, the abandonment of her manners was in such flagrant contradiction with the Roman regularity34 of her Tancred face. Owing, perhaps, to some dash of the Tancred blood in her, she was neither pretty nor witty35; yet she contrived36 to get her own way with everybody. Durant accounted for it by her sheer youth, the obstinacy37 of her will to live.
In twenty-four hours she had put a stop to Frida's disappearances38, to Durant's sketching39, and to the Colonel's [Pg 291] intellectual conversation; and this she did by behaving so as to make these things impossible. In short, she had taken possession of her cousin and her black mare40, of the Colonel and his cigarettes, of Mrs. Fazakerly and her books, of everybody and everything except Durant. She was friendly with him, but somehow her friendliness41 was infinitely more unflattering than Miss Tancred's former apathy42. It implied that he was all very well in his way, but that she had seen too many of his sort to be greatly excited about him; while in Frida Tancred, now, she had found something absolutely and uniquely new. She was not going to be put off with Durant; she fastened herself upon Frida, and refused to let her go; she did the thing she had said she would do—without absolutely ignoring her fellow-guest, she talked to Frida or at Frida or for Frida alone. And yet, strangely enough, by dint43 of much observation she had detected a subtle resemblance between them, and she proclaimed her discovery with her natural frankness.
It was the second evening of her stay, and the three were sitting out on the lawn together. She had been looking long and earnestly at her mysterious kinswoman.
"Frida, you really are a sort of cousin, aren't you?"
"So I've always been told."
"And Mr. Durant, is he a sort of cousin, too?"
"I never heard that."
"I'm afraid I have not the honor."
"That's odd. I thought he must be."
"Why?" asked Miss Tancred.
"Oh, because there's a likeness44 somewhere. Not in the face exactly, but—yes, there! Keep that expression on your face one minute, Mr. Durant; now don't you see it?" [Pg 292]
"See what?"
"It—the likeness. He looks terribly reserved somehow—a sort of wild-horses-shan't-draw-it-out-of-me expression, and yet so fearfully restless; and that's just like you."
There was an embarrassed silence; and then Miss Chatterton again raised her cheerful voice.
"I say, Frida! you might tell me exactly what I'm in for. Are you two going to be horribly intellectual and clever and that sort of thing?"
"I'm not," said Miss Tancred.
"I'm not," echoed Durant.
"Thank Heaven! Because you both look as if you'd a tremendous lot in you. I wonder if you'll ever let it out."
"Not if we can help it," said Durant.
"There you are again! If you're not Frida's first cousin, you ought to be."
Durant smiled; he wondered whether the idea was more than the random45 frolicking of Miss Chatterton's brain. She was evidently a young woman of perception; but her perceptions had wings, and she threw them off from her in a manner altogether spontaneous, impersonal46 and free. It was nothing to her if they brushed against the truth sometimes in their irresponsible flight.
"You don't mind all these personal remarks, do you?"
"Not in the least," said Miss Tancred.
"For my part I rather like them," said Durant; but they both carefully avoided each other's eyes.
点击收听单词发音
1 lookout | |
n.注意,前途,瞭望台 | |
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2 distraction | |
n.精神涣散,精神不集中,消遣,娱乐 | |
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3 irrelevant | |
adj.不恰当的,无关系的,不相干的 | |
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4 freckles | |
n.雀斑,斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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5 sanguine | |
adj.充满希望的,乐观的,血红色的 | |
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6 complexion | |
n.肤色;情况,局面;气质,性格 | |
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7 joyous | |
adj.充满快乐的;令人高兴的 | |
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8 dubiously | |
adv.可疑地,怀疑地 | |
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9 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
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10 conversed | |
v.交谈,谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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11 vegetate | |
v.无所事事地过活 | |
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12 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
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13 boredom | |
n.厌烦,厌倦,乏味,无聊 | |
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14 manor | |
n.庄园,领地 | |
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15 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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16 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
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17 vault | |
n.拱形圆顶,地窖,地下室 | |
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18 anticipation | |
n.预期,预料,期望 | |
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19 infinitely | |
adv.无限地,无穷地 | |
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20 precipitating | |
adj.急落的,猛冲的v.(突如其来地)使发生( precipitate的现在分词 );促成;猛然摔下;使沉淀 | |
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21 passionate | |
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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22 diminution | |
n.减少;变小 | |
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23 celebrity | |
n.名人,名流;著名,名声,名望 | |
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24 replete | |
adj.饱满的,塞满的;n.贮蜜蚁 | |
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25 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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26 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
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27 vivacity | |
n.快活,活泼,精神充沛 | |
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28 subdue | |
vt.制服,使顺从,征服;抑制,克制 | |
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29 fatuous | |
adj.愚昧的;昏庸的 | |
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30 devours | |
吞没( devour的第三人称单数 ); 耗尽; 津津有味地看; 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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31 tributaries | |
n. 支流 | |
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32 quenched | |
解(渴)( quench的过去式和过去分词 ); 终止(某事物); (用水)扑灭(火焰等); 将(热物体)放入水中急速冷却 | |
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33 flicker | |
vi./n.闪烁,摇曳,闪现 | |
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34 regularity | |
n.规律性,规则性;匀称,整齐 | |
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35 witty | |
adj.机智的,风趣的 | |
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36 contrived | |
adj.不自然的,做作的;虚构的 | |
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37 obstinacy | |
n.顽固;(病痛等)难治 | |
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38 disappearances | |
n.消失( disappearance的名词复数 );丢失;失踪;失踪案 | |
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39 sketching | |
n.草图 | |
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40 mare | |
n.母马,母驴 | |
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41 friendliness | |
n.友谊,亲切,亲密 | |
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42 apathy | |
n.漠不关心,无动于衷;冷淡 | |
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43 dint | |
n.由于,靠;凹坑 | |
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44 likeness | |
n.相像,相似(之处) | |
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45 random | |
adj.随机的;任意的;n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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46 impersonal | |
adj.无个人感情的,与个人无关的,非人称的 | |
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