Being seated in a snug2 corner of the veranda3 in company with Mr. Pennington Brown, Mr. Port was smoking a comforting cigar. Mr. Brown, who also was smoking, did not seem to find his cigar comforting. He smoked it in so fitful a fashion that it repeatedly went out; and his nervousness seemed to be increased each time that he lighted it. Further, his comment upon Mr. Port’s discourse—which was a more than ordinarily thoughtful and accurate weighing of the relative merits of thin and thick soups—obviously were delivered quite at random4. At first Mr. Port was disposed to resent this inattention to his soulful utterances5; but as the subject was one in which, as he well knew, his friend was profoundly interested, he presently became uneasy.
“What’s the matter, Brown?” he asked, in a tone of kindly6 concern. “Is your rheumatism7 bothering you? I’ve been afraid that your absurd sitting around on rocks with my niece would bring it on again. You’re not as young as you once were, Pen, and you’ve got to take care of yourself.”
“I am not aware, Port,” Mr. Brown answered rather stiffly, “that I am as yet conspicuously8 superannuated9. Indeed, I never felt younger in my life than I have felt during the past fortnight. I have a little touch of rheumatism to-night,” he added, frankly10, and at the same time gave unintentional emphasis to his admission by catching11 his breath and almost groaning12 as he slightly moved his legs, “but it has nothing to do with sitting on the rocks with Dor—with your charming niece. You forget that my rheumatism is hereditary13, Port. Why, I had an attack of it when I was only five-and-twenty.”
“All the same, you wouldn’t have it now if you had spent your afternoons sensibly with me here on a dry veranda, or properly wrapped up in a dry carriage, instead of on damp rocks, with that baggage. What on earth has got into you I can’t imagine. If you were twenty years younger, Brown, I should think, yes, positively14, I should think that you were in love with her.”
“Port,” said Mr. Brown, with a tone of resentment15 in his voice, “I shall be very much obliged if you will not use such language when you are speaking of Miss Lee. She is the best and kindest and noblest woman I ever have met. You have most cruelly misunderstood her. Had you given her half a chance she would have been to you only a source of constant joy.”
Mr. Port replied to this emphatic16 assertion by a low, but most pointedly17 incredulous, whistle.
“You have not the slightest conception, as such a comment shows,” Mr. Brown continued, with increasing asperity18, “of the depths of sweetness and tenderness which are in her nature; of her perfect unselfishness; of the gentleness and trustfulness of her heart. She is all that a woman can be, and more. She is—she is an angel!” Mr. Brown’s elderly voice trembled as he made this avowal19.
As for Mr. Port, his astonishment20 was almost too deep for words. But he managed to say: “Yes, I suppose she is—at least she has said so often enough herself.”
For some seconds there was silence; and then, with a deprecating manner and in a voice from which all trace of resentment had disappeared, Mr. Brown resumed: “Hutch, old man, you and I have been friends these many years together, and you won’t fail me in your friendship now, will you? You are right, I am in love with this sweet young creature, and she—think of it, Hutch!—she has admitted that she is in love with me; not romantically in love, for that would be, not absurd, of course, but a little unreasonable—for while I’m not at all old, yet I know, of course, that I am not exactly what can be called young—but in love sensibly and rationally. She wants to take care of me, she says, the dear child!” (Mr. Port grunted21.) “And she has such clever notions in regard to my health. When we are married—how strange and how delightful22 it sounds, Hutch!—she says that we will go immediately to Carlsbad, where the waters will do my rheumatism a world of good; and from there, when I am better, we will go on to Vienna, where the dry climate and the white wines, she thinks, still further will benefit me; and from Vienna, in order to set me on my feet completely, we are to go on to the North and spend a winter in Russia—for there is nothing that cures rheumatism so quickly and so thoroughly23, she says (though I never should have imagined it) as steady and long-continued cold. Just think of her planning it all out for me so well!
“Yes, Hutch, I love her with all my heart; and what has made me so nervous to-night is the great happiness that has come to me—it only came positively this afternoon—and the dread24 that perhaps, as her guardian25, you know, you might not approve of what we have decided26 to do. But you do approve, don’t you, Hutch? Of course, in a few months she will be her own mistress, and your consent to our marriage, as she very truly says, then will be unnecessary. But even a month seems a desperately27 long while to wait; and that is the very shortest time, she thinks, in which she could get ready—though the dear child has consented to wait for most of the little things which she wants until we get on the other side.” Mr. Port smiled cynically28 at the announcement of this concession29. It struck him that when Dorothy was turned loose among the Paris shops, backed by the capacious purse of a doting30 elderly husband, she would mow31 a rather startlingly broad swath. “So you won’t oppose our marriage, will you, old man? You will consent to my having this dear young creature for my wife?”
Various emotions found place in Mr. Port’s breast as he listened to this extraordinary declaration and appeal. At first he felt a lively anger at Dorothy for having, as he coarsely phrased it in his own mind, so successfully gammoned Mr. Pennington Brown; to this succeeded an involuntary admiration33 of the clever way in which she had managed it; and then a feeling of profound satisfaction possessed34 him as there came into his slow-moving mind a realizing sense of his own deliverance. But Mr. Port was not so utterly35 selfish but that, in the midst of the sunrise of happiness which dawned upon him with the opening of a way by which he decently could get rid of Dorothy, he was assailed36 by certain qualms37 of conscience as to the unfairness of thus casting upon his old friend the burden that he had found so hard to bear. For the heaviness of Mr. Port’s mental processes prevented him from perceiving, as a shrewder person would have perceived, that Dorothy was not the sort of young woman to engage in an enterprise of this nature without first fully32 counting the cost. Had he been keener of penetration38 he would have known that she could be trusted, when safely landed in the high estate of matrimony, to play on skilfully39 the game that she had so skilfully begun; that in her own interest she would manage matters in such a way as never to arouse in the mind of her elderly husband the awkward suspicion that the scheme of life arranged by his angel apparently40 with a view solely41 to his own comfort really was arranged only for the comfort of her angelic self.
It was while Mr. Port wavered among his qualms of conscience, hesitating between his great longing42 to chuck Dorothy overboard, and so have done with her, and his sense of duty to Mr. Pennington Brown, that the subject of his perplexities herself appeared upon the scene; and her arrival at so critical a juncture43 seemed to suggest as a remote possibility that she had been all the while snuffing this particular battle from not very far off.
“Dear Uncle Hutchinson,” said Miss Lee, with affectionate fervor44, “do you think that your angel is most cruel and horrid45 because she is willing to go off in this way after her own selfish happiness and leave you all alone? But she won’t do it, dear, if you would rather have her stay. Her only wish, you know, has been to make you comfortable and happy; and you have been so good and so kind to her that she is ready to sacrifice even her love for your sake. Yes, if you would rather keep her to yourself she will stay. Only if she does stay,” and there was a warning tone of deep meaning in Miss Lee’s well-modulated voice, “her heart, of course, will be broken, and she will have to ask you to travel” with her for two or three years into out-of-the-way parts of the world (Mr. Port shuddered) “until her poor broken heart gets well. Not that it ever will get quite well again, you know; but she will be brave, and try to pretend for your sake that it has. So it shall be just as you say, dear; only for Pennington’s sake, who loves me so much, Uncle Hutchinson, I hope that perhaps you may be willing to let me go.”
And having concluded this moving address, Miss Lee extended one of her well-shaped hands to Mr. Pennington Brown—who grasped it warmly, for he was deeply moved by so edifying46 an exhibition of affectionate and dutiful unselfishness—and with the other applied47 her handkerchief delicately to her eyes.
Mr. Port was not in the least moved by Dorothy’s professions of self-sacrifice; but he was most seriously alarmed by her threat—that opened before him a dismal48 vista49 of bilious50 misery—to cart him for several years about the world on the pretext51 of a broken heart that required travel for its mending.
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He believed, to be sure, that in a stand-up fight he could conquer Dorothy; but he had his doubts as to how long she would stay conquered—and between constant fighting and constant travel there is not much choice; for Mr. Port knew from experience how acute is that form of biliousness52 which results from rage. After all, self-preservation is the first law of nature; and under the stress thus put upon him, therefore, it is not surprising that Mr. Port’s qualms of conscience incident to his failure to do his duty to his neighbor vanished to the winds.
Mr. Pennington Brown still held Dorothy’s hand in his own. “Will you make this great sacrifice, Hutch, for your old friend?” he asked.
Mr. Port hesitated a little, for he felt a good deal like a criminal who is shifting his crime upon an innocent man; and then he answered, rather weakly both in tones and terms: “Why, of course.”
“Dear Uncle Hutchinson, how good you are!” exclaimed Miss Lee. “And you really think that you can spare your angel, then?”
And both promptly53 and firmly Mr. Port answered: “Yes, I really think that I can.”
The End
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1
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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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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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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utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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6
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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7
rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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superannuated
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| adj.老朽的，退休的；v.因落后于时代而废除，勒令退学 | |
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10
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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11
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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12
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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13
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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14
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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15
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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16
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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asperity
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| n.粗鲁，艰苦 | |
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19
avowal
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| n.公开宣称，坦白承认 | |
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20
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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21
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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22
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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23
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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24
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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25
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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26
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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27
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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28
cynically
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| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
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29
concession
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| n.让步，妥协；特许(权) | |
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30
doting
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| adj.溺爱的，宠爱的 | |
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31
mow
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| v.割（草、麦等），扫射，皱眉；n.草堆，谷物堆 | |
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32
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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33
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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34
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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35
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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36
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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37
qualms
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| n.不安；内疚 | |
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38
penetration
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| n.穿透，穿人，渗透 | |
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39
skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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40
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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41
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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42
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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43
juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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44
fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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45
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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46
edifying
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| adj.有教训意味的，教训性的，有益的v.开导，启发( edify的现在分词 ) | |
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47
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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48
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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49
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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50
bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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51
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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52
biliousness
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| [医] 胆汁质 | |
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53
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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