She had been isolated6 from humanity. Now she felt the red blood tingling7 to her finger tips. Her days were full of sweet surprises or sudden revelations of drama and tragedy, and her woman’s soul responded with eager interest.
She had never loved. Such a woman could not love a tailor’s dummy8. Her nature was warm, rich and passionate9, and she was consumed with longing10 for the moment of bliss11 when her whole being would so burn with sacrificial fire for her beloved that she could walk with him naked in winter snows, unconscious of cold.
Dress, the great mania12 of the empty minded, she had outgrown13. She knew instinctively14 the colour and the style most becoming to her beauty, and she used these with the ease and assurance of an expert. She was proud of her beautiful face and figure and held them as divine gifts, the surest tokens of the fulfilment of her desires.
Her heart, rich in the ripened15 treasures of unspent motherhood, brooded in tenderness over her new work—the tortures of half-starved mothers, their doomed16 babes, their idle fathers, and the misery17 of the poor and the fallen. This yearning18 to help she knew to be the cry within her own soul for peace. How to express this fullness of life Gordon was teaching her. Slowly and unconsciously she was clothing this powerful, athletic19 man with every attribute of her ideal. His steel-gray eyes seemed to pierce her very soul and say, “I understand you; come with me.” His eloquence20 and emotional thinking were more and more to her the voice of a prophet seer. His face, that flashed and trembled, smiled and clouded with fires of smouldering passion, held her as in a spell. She knew this power was slowly tightening21 about her heart, yet she rejoiced in its very pain. When she greeted him, and he unconsciously held her soft hand in his big blue-veined grasp, a sense of restful joy came she knew not whence nor why.
Her enthusiasm in his work, her faith and cheering flattery were drawing him with resistless magnetism22.
As the summer advanced the heat became so terrific and the suffering in the city so great that Gordon determined23 to stay at his post and take his vacation in the fall. Mrs. Ransom fussed and fumed24 over Kate’s determination to stay, but there was no help for it.
July broke the record of forty years for heat. Scores were prostrated25 daily and dead horses blocked traffic at almost every hour. A drought threatened the water-supply, and night brought no relief to the millions who sweltered in the tenements26.
The babies began to die by thousands—more than two thousand a week on Manhattan. Island alone. The city’s wagons27 raked the little black coffins28 up and dumped them into the Potters’ Field, one on top of the other, like so many dead flies. Down every tenement-walled street the white ribbons fluttered their tragic29 story from cellar to attic30. At night tired mothers walked the pavements, hot and radiating heat, till the sun rose again, carrying their sick babies, or crowded the housetops, fanning them as they lay on their pallets, pale and still, fighting with Death the grim, silent battle.
Kate Ransom finally gave her entire time to these children. She fitted up a hotel in the mountains of Pennsylvania and kept it full. She chartered a steamer and took a thousand of them for a day up the Hudson as an experiment, and asked Gordon to go with them. They would have music, and a dinner spread under the trees of the park which stretched back from the water’s edge into the towering hills.
He met them at the ferry slip from which the steamer sailed. Kate was already there, and the throng31 filled every inch of the floor space. She was moving about among them, while they gazed at her in admiration32 no words in their vocabulary could express. Her face was flushed with excitement, and her violet eyes, wide open, were sparkling with pleasure.
The man’s eyes lingered on the scene, feeling that, for all her magnificently human body, no angel ever made a fairer vision.
He was struck with the silence of these children. As he looked closer it was only too plain they were not children. They were only little wizen-faced men and women, who had never learned to laugh or smile or play; little pinched faces with weak eyes that had never seen God’s green fields; little dirty ears that had been bruised33 with a thousand beastly noises, but had never heard the murmur34 of beautiful waters in the depths of a forest. His heart went out to them in a great yearning pity as he recalled his own enchanted35 childhood.
His voice was soft with tears as he greeted Kate.
“A more pathetic sight than this crowd of silent children old earth never saw. But the shining figure in the centre lights the shadows with a touch of divine beauty.”
“It does break one’s heart to see such children, doesn’t it?” she answered, looking at them tenderly and ignoring his pointed36 tribute to her beauty.
“Are we all ready?” Gordon cried.
“If you are. Is Mrs. Gordon not coming?”
“No; I couldn’t persuade her. She took our chicks to the seashore.”
As the boat moved swiftly up the great river in the fresh morning air and the breeze blowing down its channel strengthened, they sat together on the after deck and watched the dead souls of the little ones stir with life under the kiss of the wind and the caress37 of the music.
In the park they spread out in the whispering stillness of the woods. Nature breathed the sweet breath of her life into their hearts again and they began to twist their queer little faces and try to laugh. They called to one another and listened with mute wonder at the echo among the rock-ribbed hills. Gordon watched curiously38 in their faces the flash of the inherited memory of forest habits, choked and stunted39 and dormant40 in all city folks, and yet alive as long as the human heart beats. Within two hours they had grown noisy with play after a timid, clumsy fashion.
“Give them a week and they would learn to laugh!” Kate exclaimed.
But the man was now more interested in watching the woman than the children, as he saw her satin skin flush with pleasure and the creamy lace on her full bosom41 rise and fall.
They sat down on a rock beside a brook42.
“What an inspiration to see this old yet ever new miracle of regeneration unfold under the magic touch of a woman’s hand!”
“You mean a man’s hand,” she replied. “This would never have interested me except that you led me to see it.”
“Then we’ve helped one another. I’m beginning to feel you are indispensable. I wonder if you, too, will leave us after awhile as so many pass on.”
“No; this has become my very life,” she soberly answered, looking down at the ground and then into his face with frank, open-eyed pleasure.
He was silent for several minutes and then softly laughed.
“What is it?” she cried.
“You could never guess.”
She lifted her superb arms, showing bare to the elbow, and felt of the mass of auburn hair. “That load of red hay about to fall?”
“Don’t be sacrilegious. No.”
“Harness broken anywhere?” She felt of her belt, and ran her hands down the lines of her beautiful figure, eyeing him laughingly.
“I’ll tell you,” he said, sinking his voice to its lowest note of expressive43 feeling, while a whimsical smile played round the corners of his eyes. “Sitting here in the woods by your side on this glorious summer day, your eyes looked so blue in the creamy satin of your face, I suddenly thought I smelled the violets with which God mixed their colours.”
“You think of such silly things,” she said with mock severity.
“There’s nothing silly about it. Beauty is an attribute of the divine. I worship it for its own sweet sake wherever I find it, in pearl or opal, dewdrop or flower, the stars, or a woman’s face or form or eyes.”
She lowered her head.
“Do you know the old legend of the opal?” he asked.
He took some stones from his pocket and held in the light an opal of rare luster44.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she cried.
“And its story is as beautiful as its face. Listen: A sunbeam lingered under a leaf in the forest at sunset, loath45 to leave so fair a spot, until the moon suddenly rose. Enraptured46 with the shimmering47 beauty of a moonbeam, he stood entranced and trembling and could not go. In ecstasy48 they met, embraced and kissed. The sun sank and left him in her arms. The opal is the child of their love. In its fair face is forever mingled49 the silver of the rising moon and the golden glory of the sunset.”
“I believe you made that up,” she laughed.
“I wish I were poet enough.”
“I had no idea you dreamed of such romantic nonsense.”
“Yes, I dream many things. I had a funny dream about you the other night.”
“Tell me what it was,” she begged.
“I dare not.”
“I thought you would dare anything.”
“No; you see, dreams are such intimate, unconventional mysteries. Dreams have no regard for law or custom The soul and the body seem equally free and without sin or shame. I have a curious feeling of awe50 about sleep and dreams. It’s the surest evidence I have of immortality51 and the reality of a spiritual life. It is to me the prophecy of the ideal world, too, in which we will dare to live some day what we really are, without pretence52 or hypocrisy—live that deep secret inner life we try sometimes to hide from the eye of God.”
“And you will not even give me a hint of this dream?”
“No. It was very foolish, but very charming and beautiful. It was in part a picture from that dream which made me laugh awhile ago about your eyes.”
“I think it mean in you to tell me that much and no more.”
“I would tell you if I dared. I may dare some day.”
She was afraid to ask him after that, and yet something within cried for joy.
They rose, gathered the children for dinner, ands after three hours in the woods, returned to the city as the twilight53 softly fell over its ragged54 steel and granite55 sky-line.
“You must take tea with us to-night,” she said, as they stepped from the boat.
His wife would not return for supper and he consented.
It was not the first time he had spent an hour at the table of the Ransom household. Mrs. Ransom deemed herself honoured by his visits, and his chats with the invalid56 father about books were bright spots in his life.
Kate had sent the stringed band from the boat to the house and stationed them in the conservatory57 opening into the dining-room. The tender strains of the music, the splash of a fountain mingled with the songs of birds in their cages, the gleam of silver and diamond flash of cut glass, gave Gordon’s senses a soothing58 contrast to the wild beauty of the woods. His nature responded to art and luxury as quickly as to the sensuous59 voice of Nature in the glory of her summer’s splendour.
There was something in this glittering beauty, cold and cruel, that appealed to him. He always felt at home in such surroundings. Beneath his idealism and love of humanity there was still hidden somewhere the nerve of an Epicurean.
When Kate appeared, dressed for tea, simply but richly, with her splendid neck and shoulders bare and little ringlets of hair curling about her face as though scorched60 by the warmth of the red blood below, he felt the picture complete.
She chatted with him before entering the dining-room.
Her manner was always flattering and frankly61 gracious, but to-night there was an added note of warmth and familiar comradeship. Never had he seen her so charming and so resistless. Always intensely conscious of her sex, she seemed to have the power to-night of communicating to the man before her that consciousness so intimately, so directly and yet so delicately that he was led captive.
With scarcely a spoken word their relationship leaped the space of years. The quiver of her eyelid63, the dilation64 of a nostril65, little inarticulate exclamations66, the turn of her head, the rising and falling of her bosom, the flash of her violet eyes, the subtle perfume of her hair or the graceful67 movement of her magnificent form spoke62 the language of life deep and rhythmic68 which no words have ever expressed.
He went home, on fire with the dream of an ideal life and work with such a woman of supreme69 beauty.
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1
ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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justification
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| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
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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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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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8
dummy
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| n.假的东西；(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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passionate
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| 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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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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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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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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ripened
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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fumed
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| 愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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25
prostrated
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| v.使俯伏，使拜倒( prostrate的过去式和过去分词 )；（指疾病、天气等）使某人无能为力 | |
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26
tenements
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| n.房屋，住户，租房子( tenement的名词复数 ) | |
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wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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28
coffins
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| n.棺材( coffin的名词复数 )；使某人早亡[死，完蛋，垮台等]之物 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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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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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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luster
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| n.光辉；光泽，光亮；荣誉 | |
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loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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46
enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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48
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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49
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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50
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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51
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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52
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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53
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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54
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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57
conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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58
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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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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60
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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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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eyelid
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| n.眼睑，眼皮 | |
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dilation
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| n.膨胀，扩张，扩大 | |
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nostril
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| n.鼻孔 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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