One morning Hiram had taken his little easel out with him from Alexandria Bay to one of the prettiest points of view upon the neighbouring mainland—a jutting9 spit of ice-worn rock, projecting far into the placid10 lake, and thickly overhung with fragrant11 brush of the beautiful red cedar—and was making a little water-colour sketch3 of a tiny islet in the foreground, just a few square yards of smooth granite12 covered in the centre with an inch deep of mould, and crowned by a single tall straight stem of sombre spruce fir. It was a delicate, dainty little sketch, steeped in the pale morning haze13 of Canadian summer; and the scarlet14 columbines, waving from the gnarled roots of the solitary15 fir tree, stood out like brilliant specks16 of light against the brown bark and dark green foliage17 that formed the background. Hiram was just holding it at arm's length, to see how it looked, and turning to ask for Audouin's friendly criticism, when he heard a clear bright woman's voice close behind him speaking so distinctly that he couldn't help overhearing the words.
'Oh, papa,' the voice said briskly, 'there's an artist working down there. I wonder if he'd mind our going down and looking at his picture. I do so love to see an artist painting.'
The very sound of the voice thrilled through Hiram's inmost marrow18 as he heard it, somewhat as Audouin's voice had done long ago, when first he came upon him in the Muddy Creek19 woodland—only more so. He had never heard a woman's voice before at all like it. It didn't in the least resemble Miss Almeda A. Stiles's, or any other one of the lady students at Bethabara or Orange, who formed the sole standard of female society that Hiram Winthrop had ever yet met with. It was a rich, liquid, rippling20 voice, and it spoke21 with the soft accent and delicate deliberate intonation22 of an English lady. Hiram, of course, didn't by the light of nature recognise at once this classificatory fact as to its origin and history, but he did know that it stirred him strangely, and made him look round immediately to see from what manner of person the voice itself ultimately proceeded.
A tall girl of about nineteen, with a singularly full ripe-looking face and figure for her age, was standing23 on the edge of the little promontory24 just above, and looking down inquisitively25 towards Hiram's easel. Her cheeks had deeper roses in them than Hiram had ever seen before, and her complexion26 was clearer and more really flesh-coloured than that of most pale and sallow American women. 'What a beautiful skin to paint!' thought Hiram instinctively27; and then the next moment, with a flush of surprise, he began to recognise to himself that this unknown girl, whose eyes met his for an infinitesimal fraction of a second, had somehow immediately impressed him—nay, thrilled him—in a way that no other woman had ever before succeeded in doing. In one word, she seemed to him more womanly. Why, he didn't know, and couldn't have explained even to himself, for Hiram's forte28 certainly did not lie in introspective analysis; but he felt it instinctively, and was conscious at once of a certain bashful desire to speak with her, which he had never experienced towards a single one of the amiable29 young ladies at Bethabara Seminary.
'Gwen, my dear,' the father said in a dried-up Indian military tone, 'you will disturb these artists. Come away, come away; people don't like to be watched at their duties, really.'
Gwen, by way of sole reply, only bent30 over the edge of the little bluff31 that overhung the platform of rock where Hiram was sitting, and said with the same clear deliberate accent as before, 'May I look? Oh, thank you. How very, very pretty!'
'It isn't finished yet,' Audouin said, taking the words out of Hiram's mouth almost, as he held up the picture for Gwen's inspection32. 'It's only a rough sketch, so far: it'll look much worthier33 of the original when mv friend has put the last little touches to it. In art, you know, the last loving lingering touch is really everything.'
Hiram felt half vexed34 that Audouin should thus have assumed the place of spokesman for him towards the unknown lady; and yet at the same time he was almost grateful to him for it also, for he felt too abashed35 to speak himself in her overawing presence.
'Yes, the original's beautiful,' Gwen answered, taking her father's arm and leading him down, against his will, to the edge of the water: 'but the sketch is very pretty too, and the point of view so exquisitely36 chosen. What a thing it is, papa, to have the eye of an artist, isn't it? You and I might have passed this place a dozen times over, and never noticed what a lovely little bit it is to make a sketch of; but the painter sees it at once, and picks out by instinct the very spot to make a beautiful picture.'
'Ah, quite so,' the father echoed in a cold unconcerned voice, as if the subject rather bored him. 'Quite so, quite so. Very pretty place indeed, an excellent retired38 corner, I should say, for a person who has a taste that way, to sit and paint in.'
'It is beautiful,' Audouin said, addressing himself musingly39 to the daughter, 'and our island in particular is the prettiest of all the thousand, I do believe.'
'Your island?' Gwen cried interrogatively. 'Then you own that sweet little spot there, do you?'
'My friend and I, yes,' Audouin answered airily, to Hiram's great momentary40 astonishment41. 'In the only really worthy42 sense of ownership, we own it most assuredly. I dare say some other man somewhere or other keeps locked up in his desk a dirty little piece of crabbed43 parchment, which he calls a title-deed, and which gives him some sort of illusory claim to the productive power of the few square yards of dirt upon its surface. But the island itself and the enjoyment of it is ours, and ours only: the gloss44 on the ice-grooves in the shelving granite shore, the scarlet columbines on the tall swaying stems, the glow of the sunlight on the russet boles of the spruce fir—you see my friend has fairly impounded them all upon his receptive square of cartridge45 paper here for our genuine title-deed of possession.'
'Ah, I see, I see,' the old gentleman said testily46. 'You and your friend claim the island by prescription47, but your claim is disputed by the original freeholder.'
The three others all smiled slightly. 'Oh dear, no, papa,' Gwen answered with a touch of scorn and impatience48 in her tone. 'Don't you understand? This gentleman——'
'My name is Audouin,' the New Englander put in with a slight inclination49.
'Mr. Audouin means that the soil is somebody else's, but the sole enjoyment of the island is his friend's and his own.'
'The so-called landowner often owns nothing more than the dirt in the ditches,' Audouin explained with a wave of the hand, in his romantic mystifying fashion, 'while the observer owns all that is upon it, of any real use or beauty. For our whole lifetime, my friend and I have had that privilege and pleasure. The grass grows green for us in spring; the birds build nests for us in early summer; the fire-flies flit before our eyes on autumn evenings; the stoat and hare put on their snow-white coat for our delight in winter weather. I've seen a poet enjoy for a whole season the best part of a farm, while the crusty farmer supposed he had only had out of it a few worthless wild apples. We are the real freeholders, sir; the man with the title-deeds has merely the usufruct.'
'Oh, ah,' the military gentleman repeated, as if a light were beginning slowly to dawn upon his bewildered intelligence. 'Some reservation in favour of rights of way and royalties50 and so forth51, in America, I suppose. Only owns the dirt in the ditches, you say,—the soil presumably. Now, in England, every landowner owns the mines and minerals and springs and everything else beneath the soil, to the centre of the earth, I believe, if I've been rightly instructed.'
'It can seldom be worth his while to push his claims so far.' Audouin replied with great gravity, still smiling sardonically52.
Gwen coloured slightly. Hiram noticed the delicate flush of the colour, as it mantled53 all her cheek for a single second, and was hardly angry with his friend for having provoked so pretty a protest. Then Gwen said with a little cough, as if to change the subject: 'These islands are certainly very lovely. They're the most beautiful thing we've seen in a six weeks' tour in America. I don't think even Niagara charmed me so much, in spite of all its grandeur54.'
'You're right,' Audouin went on (a little in the Sir Oracle55 vein56, Hiram fancied); 'at any rate, the islands are more distinctly American. There's nothing like them anywhere else in the world. They're the final word of our level American river basins. You have grand waterfalls in Europe; you have broad valleys; you have mountains finer than any of ours here east at least; but you've nothing equal in its way to this flat interwoven scenery of river and foliage, of land and water. It has no sublimity57, not a particle; it's utterly58 wanting in everything that ordinarily makes beautiful country; but it's absolutely fairy like in its endless complexity59 of channels and islands, and capes60 and rocks and lakelets, all laid out on such an infinitesimally tiny scale, as one might imagine the sylphs and gnomes61 or the Lilliputians would lay out their ground plan of a projected paradise.'
'Yes, I think it's exquisite37 in its way,' Gwen went on. 'My father doesn't care for it because it's so flat: after Naini Tal and the Himalayas, he says, all American scenery palls62 and fades away into utter insignificance63. Of course I haven't seen the Himalayas—and don't want to, you know—but I've been in Switzerland; and I don't see why, because Switzerland is beautiful as mountain country, this shouldn't be beautiful too in a different fashion.'
'Quite so,' Audouin answered briskly. 'We should admire all types of beauty, each after its own kind. Not to do so argues narrowness—a want of catholicity.'
The military gentleman fidgeted sadly by Gwen's side; he had caught at the word 'catholicity,' and he didn't like it. It savoured of religious discussion; and being, like most other old Indian officers, strictly64 evangelical, he began to suspect Audouin of High Church tendencies, or even dimly to envisage65 him to himself in the popular character of a Jesuit in disguise.
As for Hiram, he listened almost with envy to Audouin's glib66 tongue, as it ran on so lightly and so smoothly67 to the beautiful overawing stranger. If only, now, he himself dared talk like that, or rather if only he dared talk after his own fashion—which, indeed, to say the truth, would have been a great deal better! But he didn't dare, and so he let Audouin carry off all the conversation unopposed; while Audouin, with his easy Boston manners, never suspected for a moment that the shy, self restraining New Yorker countryman was burning all the time to put in a little word or two on his own account, or to attract some tiny share of the beautiful stranger's passing attention. And thus it came to pass that Audouin went on talking for half an hour or more uninterruptedly to Gwen, the military gentleman subsiding68 meanwhile into somewhat sulky silence, and Hiram listening with all his ears to hear what particulars he could glean69 by the way as to the sudden apparition70, her home, name, and calling. They had come to America for a six weeks' tour, it seemed, 'Papa' having business in Canada, where he owned a little property, and having leave of absence for the purpose from his regiment71 at Chester. That was almost all that Hiram gathered as to her actual position; and that little he treasured up in his memory most religiously against the possible contingency72 of a future journey to England 'And you contemplate73 returning to Europe shortly?' Hiram ventured to ask at last of the English lady. It was the first time he had opened his lips during the entire conversation, and he was surprised even now at his own temerity74 in presuming to say anything.
Gwen turned towards the young artist carelessly. Though she had been evidently interested in Audouin's talk, she had not so far even noticed the painter of the little picture which had formed the first introduction to the entire party. 'Yes,' she said, as unconcernedly as if Europe were in the same State; 'we sail next Friday.'
It was the only sentence she said to him, but she said it with a bright frank smile, which Hiram could have drawn75 from memory a twelvemonth after. As a matter of fact, he did draw it in his own bedroom at the Alexandria Bay Hotel that very evening: and he kept it long in his little pocket-book as a memento76 of a gleam of light bursting suddenly upon his whole existence. For Hiram was not so inexperienced in the ways of the world that he couldn't recognise one very simple and palpable fact: he was in love at first sight with the unknown English lady.
'Really, Gwen,' the military gentleman said at this point in the conversation, 'we must go back to lunch, if we're going to catch our steamer for Montreal. Besides, you're hindering our friend here from finishing his picture. Good morning—good morning; thank you so very much for the opportunity of seeing it.'
Gwen said a little 'Good morning' to Audouin, bowed more distantly to Hiram, and taking her father's arm jumped lightly up the rocks again, and disappeared in the direction of the village. When she was fairly out of sight, Hiram sat down once more and finished his water-colour in complete silence.
'Pretty girl, Hiram,' Audouin said lightly, as they walked back to their quarters at lunch-time.
'I should think, Mr. Audouin,' Hiram answered slowly, with even more than his usual self-restraint, 'she must be a tolerably favourable77 specimen78 of European women.'
Audouin said no more; and Hiram, too, avoided the subject in future. Somehow, for the first time in his life, he felt just a little bit aggrieved79 and jealous of Audouin. It was he, Hiram, who had painted the picture which first caught Gwen's fancy—he called her 'Gwen' in his own mind, quite simply, having no other name by which to call her. It was he who was the artist and the selector of that particular point of view; and yet Audouin, all unconsciously as it seemed, had stepped in and appropriated to himself, by implication, the artistic80 honours of the situation. Audouin had talked his vague poetical81 nature-worship talk—it seemed to Hiram a trifle affected82 somehow, to-day; and had monopolised all Gwen's interest in the interview, and had left him, Hiram (the founder83 of the feast, so to speak), out in the cold, while he himself basked84 in the full sunshine of Gwen's momentary favour. And yet to Audouin what was she, after all, but a pretty passing stranger? while to him she was a revelation, a new birth, a latter-day Aphrodite, rising unbidden with her rosy85 cheeks from the very bosom86 of the smiling lake. And now she was going back again at once to Europe, that great, unknown, omnipotential Europe; and perhaps Hiram Winthrop would never again see the one woman who had struck him at first sight with the instantaneous thrill which the man who has once experienced it can never forget. Colin Churchill hadn't once yet even asked himself whether or not he was in love with Minna; but Hiram Winthrop acknowledged frankly87 forthwith to his own heart that he was certainly and undeniably in love with Gwen.
Who was she? that was the question. He didn't even know her surname: his sole information about her amounted exactly to this, that she was called Gwen, and that her father had been quartered at Chester. Hiram smiled to himself as he recollected88 the old legend of how St. Thomas à Becket's mother, a Saracen maiden89, had come to England from the East, in search of her Christian90 lover, knowing only the two proper names, Gilbert and London. Was he, Hiram Winthrop, in this steam-ridden nineteenth century, in like manner to return to the old home of his forefathers91, and make inquiry92 with all diligence for Gwen, Chester? The notion was of course too palpably absurd (though Audouin would have been charmed with it). Yet there can be no denying that from the moment Hiram met that beautiful English girl by the Lake of the Thousand Islands, his desire to see Europe was quickened by yet one more unacknowledged, but very powerful private attraction. If anybody had talked to him about marrying Gwen, he would have honestly laughed at the improbable notion, but in the indefinite way that young men often feel, he felt as though some vague influence drew him on towards Gwen, not as a woman to be wooed and won, but as a central object of worship and admiration93.
At the hotel, they didn't know the name of the English gentleman and his daughter; the clerk said they only came for a day and expected no letters. Another guest had asked about them, too, he mentioned casually94; but Hiram, accustomed to looking upon his friend as so much older than himself as to have outgrown95 the folly96 of admiring female beauty, never dreamt of supposing that that other guest was Lothrop Audouin. He searched the 'Herald,' indeed, a week later, to see if any English officer and his daughter had sailed from New York on the Friday, but there were no passengers whom he could at all identify with Gwen and her father. It didn't occur to him that they might have sailed, as they did sail, by the Canadian mail steamer from Quebec, where he couldn't have failed to discover them in the list of passengers; so he was left in the end with no other memorial of this little episode save the sketch of that sunny face, and the two names, Gwen and Chester. To those little memorials Hiram's mind turned back oftener than less solitary people could easily imagine during the next long twelve months of dreary97 advertisement-drawing at long, white, dusty, sun-smitten Syracuse.
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1
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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mazes
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| 迷宫( maze的名词复数 )； 纷繁复杂的规则； 复杂难懂的细节； 迷宫图 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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revelled
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| v.作乐( revel的过去式和过去分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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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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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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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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intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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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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promontory
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| n.海角；岬 | |
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inquisitively
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| 过分好奇地； 好问地 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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forte
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| n.长处，擅长；adj.(音乐)强音的 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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worthier
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| 应得某事物( worthy的比较级 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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crabbed
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| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gloss
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| n.光泽，光滑；虚饰；注释；vt.加光泽于；掩饰 | |
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45
cartridge
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| n.弹壳，弹药筒；(装磁带等的)盒子 | |
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testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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prescription
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| n.处方，开药；指示，规定 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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50
royalties
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| 特许权使用费 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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sardonically
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| adv.讽刺地，冷嘲地 | |
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53
mantled
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| 披着斗篷的，覆盖着的 | |
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54
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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55
oracle
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| n.神谕，神谕处，预言 | |
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56
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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sublimity
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| 崇高，庄严，气质高尚 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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60
capes
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| 碎谷； 斗篷( cape的名词复数 )； 披肩； 海角； 岬 | |
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61
gnomes
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| n.矮子( gnome的名词复数 )；侏儒；（尤指金融市场上搞投机的）银行家；守护神 | |
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62
palls
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| n.柩衣( pall的名词复数 )；墓衣；棺罩；深色或厚重的覆盖物v.（因过多或过久而）生厌，感到乏味，厌烦( pall的第三人称单数 ) | |
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63
insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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64
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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65
envisage
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| v.想象，设想，展望，正视 | |
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glib
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| adj.圆滑的，油嘴滑舌的 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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68
subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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69
glean
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| v.收集(消息、资料、情报等) | |
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70
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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71
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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contingency
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| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
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73
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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74
temerity
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| n.鲁莽，冒失 | |
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75
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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memento
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| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
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77
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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80
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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81
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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83
Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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84
basked
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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85
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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86
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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88
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
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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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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outgrown
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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96
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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