What the Managing Committee of the Duskydale Institution thought of the change in me, I cannot imagine. The doctor and his daughter left the town on the day they had originally appointed, before I could make any excuse for calling again; and, as a necessary consequence of their departure, I lost all interest in the affairs of the ball, and yawned in the faces of the committee when I was obliged to be present at their deliberations in my official capacity.
It was all Alicia with me, whatever they did. I read the Minutes through a soft medium of maize-colored skirts. Notes of melodious7 laughter bubbled, in my mind’s ear, through all the drawling and stammering8 of our speech-making members. When our dignified9 President thought he had caught my eye, and made oratorical10 overtures11 to me from the top of the table, I was lost in the contemplation of silk purses and white fingers weaving them. I meant “Alicia” when I said “hear, hear”—and when I officially produced my subscription12 list, it was all aglow13 with the roseate hues14 of the marriage-license. If any unsympathetic male readers should think this statement exaggerated, I appeal to the ladies—they will appreciate the rigid15, yet tender, truth of it.
The night of the ball came. I have nothing but the vaguest recollection of it.
I remember that the more the perverse16 lecture theater was warmed the more persistently17 it smelled of damp plaster; and that the more brightly it was lighted, the more overgrown and lonesome it looked. I can recall to mind that the company assembled numbered about fifty, the room being big enough to hold three hundred. I have a vision still before me, of twenty out of these fifty guests, solemnly executing intricate figure-dances, under the superintendence of an infirm local dancing-master—a mere18 speck19 of fidgety human wretchedness twisting about in the middle of an empty floor. I see, faintly, down the dim vista20 of the Past, an agreeable figure, like myself, with a cocked hat under its arm, black tights on its lightly tripping legs, a rosette in its buttonhole, and an engaging smile on its face, walking from end to end of the room, in the character of Master of the Ceremonies. These visions and events I can recall vaguely21; and with them my remembrances of the ball come to a close. It was a complete failure, and that would, of itself, have been enough to sicken me of remaining at the Duskydale Institution, even if I had not had any reasons of the tender sort for wishing to extend my travels in rural England to the neighborhood of Barkingham.
The difficulty was how to find a decent pretext22 for getting away. Fortunately, the Managing Committee relieved me of any perplexity on this head, by passing a resolution, one day, which called upon the President to remonstrate23 with me on my want of proper interest in the affairs of the Institution. I replied to the remonstrance24 that the affairs of the Institution were so hopelessly dull that it was equally absurd and unjust to expect any human being to take the smallest interest in them. At this there arose an indignant cry of “Resign!” from the whole committee; to which I answered politely, that I should be delighted to oblige the gentlemen, and to go forthwith, on condition of receiving a quarter’s salary in the way of previous compensation.
After a sordid25 opposition26 from an economical minority, my condition of departure was accepted. I wrote a letter of resignation, received in exchange twelve pounds ten shillings, and took my place, that same day, on the box-seat of the Barkingham mail.
Rather changeable this life of mine, was it not? Before I was twenty-five years of age, I had tried doctoring, caricaturing portrait-painting, old picture-making, and Institution-managing; and now, with the help of Alicia, I was about to try how a little marrying would suit me. Surely, Shakespeare must have had me prophetically in his eye, when he wrote about “one man in his time playing many parts.” What a character I should have made for him, if he had only been alive now!
I found out from the coachman, among other matters, that there was a famous fishing stream near Barkingham; and the first thing I did, on arriving at the town, was to buy a rod and line.
It struck me that my safest way of introducing myself would be to tell Doctor Dulcifer that I had come to the neighborhood for a little fishing, and so to prevent him from fancying that I was suspiciously prompt in availing myself of his offered hospitality. I put up, of course, at the inn—stuck a large parchment book of flies half in and half out of the pocket of my shooting-jacket—and set off at once to the doctor’s. The waiter of whom I asked my way stared distrustfully while he directed me. The people at the inn had evidently heard of my new friend, and were not favorably disposed toward the cause of scientific investigation27.
The house stood about a mile out of the town, in a dip of ground near the famous fishing-stream. It was a lonely, old-fashioned red-brick building, surrounded by high walls, with a garden and plantation28 behind it.
As I rang at the gate-bell, I looked up at the house. Sure enough all the top windows in front were closed with shutters29 and barred. I was let in by a man in livery; who, however, in manners and appearance, looked much more like a workman in disguise than a footman. He had a very suspicious eye, and he fixed30 it on me unpleasantly when I handed him my card.
I was shown into a morning-room exactly like other morning-rooms in country houses.
After a long delay the doctor came in, with scientific butchers’ sleeves on his arms, and an apron31 tied round his portly waist. He apologized for coming down in his working dress, and said everything that was civil and proper about the pleasure of unexpectedly seeing me again so soon. There was something rather preoccupied32, I thought, in those brightly resolute33 eyes of his; but I naturally attributed it to the engrossing34 influence of his scientific inquiries35. He was evidently not at all taken in by my story about coming to Barkingham to fish; but he saw, as well as I did, that it would do to keep up appearances, and contrived36 to look highly interested immediately in my parchment-book. I asked after his daughter. He said she was in the garden, and proposed that we should go and find her. We did find her, with a pair of scissors in her hand, outblooming the flowers that she was trimming. She looked really glad to see me—her brown eyes beamed clear and kindly—she gave my hand another inestimable shake—the summer breezes waved her black curls gently upward from her waist—she had on a straw hat and a brown Holland gardening dress. I eyed it with all the practical interest of a linendraper. O Brown Holland you are but a coarse and cheap fabric37, yet how soft and priceless you look when clothing the figure of Alicia!
I lunched with them. The doctor recurred38 to the subject of my angling intentions, and asked his daughter if she had heard what parts of the stream at Barkingham were best for fishing in.
She replied, with a mixture of modest evasiveness and adorable simplicity39, that she had sometimes seen gentlemen angling from a meadow-bank about a quarter of a mile below her flower-garden. I risked everything in my usual venturesome way, and asked if she would show me where the place was, in case I called the next morning with my fishing-rod. She looked dutifully at her father. He smiled and nodded. Inestimable parent!
On rising to take leave, I was rather curious to know whether he would offer me a bed in the house, or not. He detected the direction of my thoughts in my face and manner, and apologized for not having a bed to offer me; every spare room in the house being occupied by his chemical assistants, and by the lumber40 of laboratories. Even while he was speaking those few words, Alicia’s face changed just as I had seen it change at our first interview. The downcast, gloomy expression overspread it again. Her father’s eye wandered toward her when mine did, and suddenly assumed the same distrustful look which I remembered detecting in it, under similar circumstances, at Duskydale. What could this mean?
The doctor shook hands with me in the hall, leaving the workman-like footman to open the door.
I stopped to admire a fine pair of stag’s antlers. The footman coughed impatiently. I still lingered, hearing the doctor’s footsteps ascending41 the stairs. They suddenly stopped; and then there was a low heavy clang, like the sound of a closing door made of iron, or of some other unusually strong material; then total silence, interrupted by another impatient cough from the workman-like footman. After that, I thought my wisest proceeding42 would be to go away before my mysterious attendant was driven to practical extremities43.
Between thoughts of Alicia, and inquisitive44 yearnings to know more about the doctor’s experiments, I passed rather a restless night at my inn.
The next morning, I found the lovely mistress of my destiny, with the softest of shawls on her shoulders, the brightest of parasols in her hand, and the smart little straw hat of the day before on her head, ready to show me the way to the fishing-place. If I could be sure beforehand that these pages would only be read by persons actually occupied in the making of love—that oldest and longest-established of all branches of manufacturing industry—I could go into some very tender and interesting particulars on the subject of my first day’s fishing, under the adorable auspices45 of Alicia. But as I cannot hope for a wholly sympathetic audience—as there may be monks46, misogynists47, political economists48, and other professedly hard-hearted persons present among those whom I now address—I think it best to keep to safe generalities, and to describe my love-making in as few sentences as the vast, though soft, importance of the subject will allow me to use.
Let me confess, then, that I assumed the character of a fastidious angler, and managed to be a week in discovering the right place to fish in—always, it is unnecessary to say, under Alicia’s guidance. We went up the stream and down the stream, on one side. We crossed the bridge, and went up the stream and down the stream on the other. We got into a punt, and went up the stream (with great difficulty), and down the stream (with great ease). We landed on a little island, and walked all round it, and inspected the stream attentively49 from a central point of view. We found the island damp, and went back to the bank, and up the stream, and over the bridge, and down the stream again; and then, for the first time, the sweet girl turned appealingly to me, and confessed that she had exhausted50 her artless knowledge of the locality. It was exactly a week from the day when I had first followed her into the fields with my fishing-rod over my shoulder; and I had never yet caught anything but Alicia’s hand, and that not with my hook.
We sat down close together on the bank, entirely51 in consequence of our despair at not finding a good fishing-place. I looked at the brown eyes, and they turned away observantly down the stream. I followed them, and they turned away inquiringly up the stream. Was this angel of patience and kindness still looking for a fishing place? And was it up the stream, after all? No!—she smiled and shook her head when I asked the question, and the brown eyes suddenly stole a look at me. I could hold out no longer In one breathless moment I caught hold of both her hands—in one stammering sentence I asked her if she would be my wife.
She tried faintly to free her hands—gave up the attempt—smiled—made an effort to look grave—gave that up, too—sighed suddenly—checked herself suddenly—said nothing. Perhaps I ought to have taken my answer for granted; but the least business-like man that ever lived becomes an eminently52 practical character in matters of love. I repeated my question. She looked away confusedly; her eye lighted on a corner of her father’s red-brick house, peeping through a gap in the plantation already mentioned; and her blushing cheeks lost their color instantly. I felt her hands grow cold; she drew them resolutely53 out of mine, and rose with the tears in her eyes. Had I offended her?
“No,” she said when I asked her the question, and turned to me again, and held out her hand with such frank, fearless kindness, that I almost fell on my knees to thank her for it.
Might I hope ever to hear her say “Yes” to the question that I had asked on the riverbank?
She sighed bitterly, and turned again toward the red-brick house.
Was there any family reason against her saying “Yes”? Anything that I must not inquire into? Any opposition to be dreaded54 from her father?
The moment I mentioned her father, she shrank away from me and burst into a violent fit of crying.
“Don’t speak of it again!” she said in a broken voice. “I mustn’t—you mustn’t—ah, don’t, don’t say a word more about it! I’m not distressed55 with you—it is not your fault. Don’t say anything—leave me quiet for a minute. I shall soon be better it you leave me quiet.”
She dried her eyes directly, with a shiver as if it was cold, and took my arm. I led her back to the house-gate; and then, feeling that I could not go in to lunch as usual, after what had happened, said I would return to the fishing-place.
“Shall I come to dinner this evening?” I asked, as I rang the gate-bell for her.
“Oh, yes—yes!—do come, or he—”
The mysterious man-servant opened the door, and we parted before she could say the next words.
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1
treasurer
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| n.司库，财务主管 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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accounting
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| n.会计，会计学，借贷对照表 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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insidiously
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| 潜在地，隐伏地，阴险地 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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oratorical
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| adj.演说的，雄辩的 | |
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overtures
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| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
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subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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remonstrate
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| v.抗议，规劝 | |
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remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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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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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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engrossing
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| adj.使人全神贯注的，引人入胜的v.使全神贯注( engross的现在分词 ) | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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auspices
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| n.资助，赞助 | |
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monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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misogynists
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| n.厌恶女人的人( misogynist的名词复数 ) | |
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economists
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| n.经济学家，经济专家( economist的名词复数 ) | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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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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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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