"What for is vey long sticks?" Tim asked. And when he saw Miss Rose walk off on them he shrieked2, and hid his face in Eleanor's skirts.
The entire household had come to look on. Matt and Sue stood at the corner of the cottage, he leaning on a snow-shovel to keep him in countenance3, Aunt Sue with one apron4 over her turbaned head and her hands rolled up in another. Grace, as white as the snow itself, sat bundled up in rugs on a sunny corner of the piazza5; Ogilvie had seen to that.
Eleanor and Rosamund were in scarlet6 caps and long blanket coats. When Pendleton had fastened on her skis, Rosamund threw aside the coat, and stood, a figure of white against the vaster white, save for the red of her cap and the warm brightness of her hair and face.
She had known many Alpine7 winters, and was as much at home on skis and snowshoes as in a ball-room.
She turned away from the interested little group to look across the unbroken slope gleaming in sunlight that kissed it to a rosy8 glow in places, in others turned its frozen crystals to a myriad9 sparkling points of light. In the hollows and under the shadow of drifts and pines the snow looked blue. She knew where the fields lay, now under their blanket, patterned by fences in the summer. The road wound off to the left, then down, down——
It was only a step or two to the crest10 of the hill; the leap would be glorious! She turned a laughing glance over her shoulder; Eleanor, Ogilvie, Flood, were watching her intently.
"I dare you!" Pendleton cried again; and she was off, off in one splendid rush and leap, a leap that carried her out and down, far down.
Again Timmy shrieked, and Yetta fell on her knees. Eleanor's face flushed in admiration11, and Pendleton called out,
"Good girl! Never knew you to take a dare!"
It was a phase of her new to the two men who loved her. Ogilvie had seen her in many situations, Flood in more; each believed that he knew the full excellence12 of her, yet, oddly enough, neither had thought of her as this wild, boyish, graceful13 creature of the out-of-doors. The sudden discovery of it came as a shock to both; for both were by nature men of the open, notwithstanding the fact of Flood's accumulated millions and Ogilvie's eminence14 in the laboratory. Now, in their surprise, they stood above, on the edge of the slope, and watched her, each thrilling, each showing his emotion in his own way.
Flood, in his surprise, had called out, then thrust one clenched15 fist into the other palm with a resounding16 smack17; but in a moment his face took on its expressionless mask—expressionless save for the gleam from the half-closed eyes.
Ogilvie had made no sound; he stood perfectly18 still, with out-thrust under lip, the corners of his eyes wrinkling to a smile; his face wore something of the indulgent, restrained look of a mother when she sees an adored child perform some wonder, yet refrains from praise of that which is so intimately her own; his first move was to run his fingers through his hair.
The two stood there as if spellbound until Rosamund reached the valley and waved up to them. Then Flood and Ogilvie turned, and met each other's eyes. There was something of a shock; instantly each looked away again, with an unspoken feeling of apology, as if he had looked upon a disclosure that was not meant for him.
Neither analyzed20 what he had seen; until that moment neither had suspected that the thought of Rosamund might be living in the heart and desire of the other. Instantly each put the suspicion aside, as if it were an unworthy one; yet, through the hours that followed, it persisted in returning again and again. Each man acknowledged that if it were true of himself, it might well be true of his friend; but each tried to assure himself of its impossibility, even while admitting that, if it were true, there could have been nothing of unfairness on the part of the other.
From their first meeting on the mountain-top Flood and Ogilvie had intuitively liked each other. Through a knowledge of varied21 types of men, they had learned to look beneath the surface; each recognized in the other many qualities to respect. Men are by nature hero-worshipers, from the time that they look with covetous22 admiration on the policeman's brass23 buttons and the motorman's thrilling power, through the period when they worship the home league's star pitcher24 and third-base-man, the captain of their college foot-ball eleven, and on to their political enthusiasms. There is far more of pure hero-worship in the friendships of men than the world gives them credit for. Flood and Ogilvie had met on a mountain-top, and on a height their friendship was to remain. Each saw in the other "a splendid fellow"; neither would have admitted in his friend the least shadow of baseness. So, after the unforeseen disclosure of that look, each man felt generously on his honor to appear unaware25 of any possible feeling on the part of his friend toward Rosamund, even going so far, in his heart and hopes, as to deny that such might exist.
But while this ardent26 liking27 existed between Flood and Ogilvie, there was something far different between each of them and Pendleton.
Pendleton liked Flood. He liked him for the virile28 strength of his personality, as well as for his possessions; he knew him only in his hours of leisure, and might not have liked him so well, nor at all, if he had known him only when he was engrossed29 in business. But toward Ogilvie he could not disguise an antagonism30 which would have shown itself openly if he had been more courageous31, and which as it was, appeared in countless32 small spitefulnesses.
To the man who does nothing there are no creatures less interesting than those whose every moment is taken up with affairs. Between the deliberate idler and the man of absorbing occupation there can be nothing in common; indeed, there often arises more or less antipathy33. The business man is apt to retain a hearty34 disrespect for the idler; to him, the man of leisure must always appear an anomaly, an excrescence, a parasite35 of civilization. And even when the worker has developed toward the plane of the connoisseur36, the collector, the lover of sports and arts, he seldom does more than tolerate the man who has begun where he finds himself only toward the end of an active career.
Yet Flood found Marshall amusing and likable enough. He was perfectly aware of Pendleton's qualities of the sycophant37, the flatterer, the gatherer of crumbs38 from the rich man's table. He thought of them rather pityingly as a natural outgrowth of the life of that class in which Pendleton was so much at his ease, and regarded them leniently39 because he believed that there was also to be found in that class so much that was desirable, so much that he himself coveted40. He was willing to accept its evil with its good, its defects with its excellence; if it had brought forth41 a Pendleton, it had also borne the perfect flower that was Rosamund.
But to Ogilvie Pendleton was altogether an abomination; he could see no good in him; his very palms itched42 to smite43 him!
They were fortunate in their weather. It seemed as if nature, satisfied with her latest marvel44, were holding her breath. Every day of their ten was brilliantly clear and cold and windless. Their voices rang far across the white silence of valley and mountain in that hushed atmosphere. The frozen snow crunched45 even under Timmy's little trudging46 feet; and the mountain people apparently47 felt that it was useless to lurk48 among the spruces when every step they took told where they would be hidden. They came from far and wide to stare at the strange antics of the "foreigners," and grinned at Rosamund, more friendly than they had ever been before.
Pap drove Mother Cary across the valley to look on at the sports; Rosamund called her attention to the new friendliness49 of the other spectators. The old woman smiled rather grimly. "Land! No wonder!" she said. "Nobody could suspicion those young fellers were spies, cuttin' up sech capers50 as them, sliding down hill head foremost on their stummicks, an' prancin' around on slappers. I never saw such goin's on, myself—and John Ogilvie one of 'em!"
They laughingly compared notes afterward51, and decided52 that Mother Cary had been quite scandalized by their "capers;" Ogilvie admitted that she had been very severe toward him the day after her drive across the valley.
But for themselves they were glorious hours. Rosamund threw aside the burden of care that had enveloped53 her during the past weeks, and became as merry as a child, more gay and joyous54, than Ogilvie had ever seen her. She skimmed down the slopes on her toboggan with Tim holding on behind her, his curls blowing out in the onrush of their swift descent; and she would carry him back up the hill again, "pick-a-back," to show him how strong a horse she was. She could outdistance them all on skis, but Ogilvie proved himself the best on snowshoes—thanks to his boyhood in northern Vermont, although Flood, who had faced many a blizzard55 on the plains, was not far behind him.
On the last day of the joyful56 ten Flood had gone with Rosamund on snowshoes across the valley to carry something to Mrs. Allen. Snow had fallen during the night, and every bough57 of pine and spruce and fir had its burden of downy white. The two paused, when they had come past Father Cary's wood-lot, to look down upon the valley.
They stood for a moment or so without speech. Flood looked from the snow-covered fields to the face beside him, as if to compare one loveliness with another; then he drew a deep breath.
"Well," he said, as they went on again, "I'm sorry to be leaving all this!"
For a moment she did not reply; she looked up at him once or twice, and he divined that she had something to say which she did not quite dare to put into words. They had become very good friends, thanks to the freedom of the out-of-door life of the past days. He laughed.
"Go on, please! Don't mind saying it! I haven't any feelings!"
"Oh," she protested, laughing, "I was not dreaming of hurting your feelings! I was only thinking how—how curious it is that you should—should care so much for what you are going back to."
But he did, nevertheless, show himself a little hurt at that. "Why shouldn't I like it?" he asked. "Do I seem such a savage58?"
"Oh, precisely59 not!" Her mood was kind. "You are not a savage. You are very nice—I'm very glad I've found out how nice you are. But that's just what makes me wonder, you see, how you can like it!"
"Like being nice?"
"No—of course not! Like what you're going back to. New York. Cecilia! Oh—all of that—you know what I mean, don't you?"
"Why," he said, a little puzzled, "I'm afraid I don't see anything wrong with it—with your 'all of that!' Do you think I ought to?"
"Oh, it isn't so much what is wrong with it. It's only that it doesn't satisfy—does it? It is chaff—husks—a bubble—it has no substance."
He considered it for a moment. Then he submitted: "Has this?"
"Well, at least this has substance. It isn't empty."
"Isn't it?" he asked. "Do you know, I should just have reversed that opinion. I should have said there was a good deal more in the life you've deserted60 this winter than in the life you're choosing to live here!"
She laughed. "Perhaps I've reverted61! Or perhaps we are in different phases of evolution! You have reached your—we'll call it your New York—and I have passed through it and come on to something better. Or if that sounds impolite we'll say that I have reached it and tumbled down again!"
"Oh, there's no impoliteness in the truth! You are generations, infinite ages, ahead of me!"
She made no answer to his humility62, and for a while neither spoke19 again. Their talk was, of necessity, largely broken by intervals63 when all their attention was needed for the task in hand. The light snow made the going uncertain; they were taking the shorter way home, along the upper slopes, instead of crossing the valley, and they had, more or less, alternately to feel their way and to rush swiftly on across possible dangers.
At the crest of the last slope Rosamund paused, and they turned to look back at the way they had come. Flood watched her with eyes of devotion, as she stood there with her head thrown a little upwards64, breathing deeply, her face warm with her delight in the beauty of the scene before her.
"How lovely it is!" she said, in the vibrating tone that always thrilled him.
"Yes, it is lovely," he said, "but only for a time. It is too much like the real thing!"
"Isn't it the real thing?" she asked, surprised.
He laughed, and shook himself a little. "I mean the real thing that I used to know, the drifts on the plains, sleet65 in the face, the numbness66 in your feet that tells you they're frozen—that's the real thing! Believe me!"
She looked up at him, interested. "And you have really felt that?"
"Oh, yes," he said. "I've felt it—but it's a long time ago. I'm glad it is, too. A very little of it satisfies. Nowadays my real thing is—well, what you called a while ago, New York, though that's only a manner of speaking, you know."
"Yes, I know. We've talked back in a circle! I am still wondering why you like it as you do!"
They had crossed their last hummock67, and had come to the place not far from the brown house where Matt now spread rugs and cushions every morning; but no one was there to greet them. Far down the long slope of white they could see Eleanor and Tim, moving slowly over the crust; Yetta was already at home on snowshoes, and her crimson-clad figure was skimming over the snow-covered fields. Apparently she was playing a game of ball with Pendleton—something they had invented for themselves; Ogilvie, also on snowshoes, was with them.
Rosamund sent a clear Valkyrie call down to them. They all looked up, and waved. Ogilvie moved closer to Pendleton's side, and the game of ball went on.
Rosamund threw herself down on one of the blankets, and Flood took his place beside her. She still wore her snowshoes, and sat with her knees drawn68 up, her arms clasped about them, boy fashion. She was watching the others at their game down below, but Flood looked no farther than her face.
Suddenly she became intensely aware of the man beside her; she could not tell how the change came, or whether there were a change at all, except in her intense consciousness of him. She did not turn to look at him; she did not so much as tremble from her position; but slowly, as if the blood were retreating to her heart, her face grew white.
Flood saw the change in her face, and knew that he was the cause of it. His heart beat triumphantly69 faster.
"Why did you say that you wonder at my liking—New York?" he asked.
She tried, vainly, to speak.
"You know what it represents, to me. It's something better than I ever had before. It's friends, it's music, and art, and the whirl on the Avenue. It is 'up and on'—and—Rosamund, don't you know what it is above all else? It is you."
He had meant to say a great deal, when this moment should have arrived; he had often wondered just how it would come, when he should find courage where they two should be. He had tried to teach himself the words he thought would be most sure to move her, words that would best disclose the fullness of his faith and his desire; yet now that the moment for speaking was upon him he reverted to the man that was his inmost self, forgetting his practiced phrases, not speaking the words he had rehearsed, but telling his longing70 in short, rushing sentences of pleading, voicing to her silence the cry of the strong soul to its chosen mate, the appeal, even the demand, of the man who had won a high place to the woman who could lead him up to even greater altitudes of the spirit. He pleaded as a man who has much to offer, but who is yet begging for the crowning gift. Unconsciously he disclosed his own greatness of soul, while making her understand that he held her supreme71, beyond all that was beautiful, above all that was high.
Before he was done speaking, her head had bent72 itself until her face was on her knees. Never had she felt herself so unworthy; never had her humility been so great. Yet when he paused, she did not answer; even for his last strong appeal she had no word. He had shown her the depths of his heart, and hers was shaken to its own depths. But yield she could not, turn to him she could not. It was as if two great elemental forces met, and clashed, and refused to combine. She could not altogether repudiate73 his appeal, yet she must be true to the stronger one which held possession of her heart.
As he watched her in a silence that seemed still to vibrate with the strength of his words, she raised her head to look at the figures now coming toward them up the long slope. Suddenly she saw that Ogilvie stopped short, and, apparently at some word from Pendleton, looked up toward herself and Flood. He took a hesitating step or two, came on at a wave from Pendleton; then he turned away, leaving the others to return without him.
Some silent message had come up the mountain to her; Rosamund had found her answer to poor Flood. The others were out of sight for the moment behind a low growth of pine; only Ogilvie was visible as he made his way along the other ridge74, taking his steps heavily, seeming suddenly to have become weary.
Rosamund watched him for a moment; then she turned her white face, pitiful with the knowledge of the hurt that she must give him, toward Flood. He must have read something there, for, startled, he bent a little closer; then, following her look, he glanced from her to Ogilvie, and back again. Her eyes did not waver from him, and when they had to answer the question in his, the paleness left her face, and a great wave of color flooded it. He held his breath, and his unspoken question must have become imperative75; for she nodded, her parted lips refusing to form words. Then, withdrawing her look, she hid her face in her arms.
Neither of them ever realized that she spoke no word at all. Her reply had been too well-defined to need speech. Flood understood.
点击收听单词发音
1 implements | |
n.工具( implement的名词复数 );家具;手段;[法律]履行(契约等)v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 );执行;贯彻;使生效 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 shrieked | |
v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 countenance | |
n.脸色,面容;面部表情;vt.支持,赞同 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 apron | |
n.围裙;工作裙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 piazza | |
n.广场;走廊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 scarlet | |
n.深红色,绯红色,红衣;adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 alpine | |
adj.高山的;n.高山植物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 myriad | |
adj.无数的;n.无数,极大数量 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 crest | |
n.顶点;饰章;羽冠;vt.达到顶点;vi.形成浪尖 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 excellence | |
n.优秀,杰出,(pl.)优点,美德 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 eminence | |
n.卓越,显赫;高地,高处;名家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 clenched | |
v.紧握,抓紧,咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 resounding | |
adj. 响亮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 smack | |
vt.拍,打,掴;咂嘴;vi.含有…意味;n.拍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 spoke | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 analyzed | |
v.分析( analyze的过去式和过去分词 );分解;解释;对…进行心理分析 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 varied | |
adj.多样的,多变化的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 covetous | |
adj.贪婪的,贪心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 pitcher | |
n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐;(棒球)投手 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 unaware | |
a.不知道的,未意识到的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 ardent | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,强烈的,烈性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 virile | |
adj.男性的;有男性生殖力的;有男子气概的;强有力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 engrossed | |
adj.全神贯注的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 antagonism | |
n.对抗,敌对,对立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 courageous | |
adj.勇敢的,有胆量的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 countless | |
adj.无数的,多得不计其数的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 antipathy | |
n.憎恶;反感,引起反感的人或事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 parasite | |
n.寄生虫;寄生菌;食客 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 connoisseur | |
n.鉴赏家,行家,内行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 sycophant | |
n.马屁精 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 crumbs | |
int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 leniently | |
温和地,仁慈地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 coveted | |
adj.令人垂涎的;垂涎的,梦寐以求的v.贪求,觊觎(covet的过去分词);垂涎;贪图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 itched | |
v.发痒( itch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 smite | |
v.重击;彻底击败;n.打;尝试;一点儿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 marvel | |
vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异;n.令人惊异的事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 crunched | |
v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 );嘎吱作响;(快速大量地)处理信息;数字捣弄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 trudging | |
vt.& vi.跋涉,吃力地走(trudge的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 lurk | |
n.潜伏,潜行;v.潜藏,潜伏,埋伏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 friendliness | |
n.友谊,亲切,亲密 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 capers | |
n.开玩笑( caper的名词复数 );刺山柑v.跳跃,雀跃( caper的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 enveloped | |
v.包围,笼罩,包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 joyous | |
adj.充满快乐的;令人高兴的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 blizzard | |
n.暴风雪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 joyful | |
adj.欢乐的,令人欢欣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 bough | |
n.大树枝,主枝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 reverted | |
恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 ); 重提; 回到…上; 归还 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 humility | |
n.谦逊,谦恭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 sleet | |
n.雨雪;v.下雨雪,下冰雹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 numbness | |
n.无感觉,麻木,惊呆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 hummock | |
n.小丘 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 triumphantly | |
ad.得意洋洋地;得胜地;成功地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 supreme | |
adj.极度的,最重要的;至高的,最高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 repudiate | |
v.拒绝,拒付,拒绝履行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 ridge | |
n.山脊;鼻梁;分水岭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 imperative | |
n.命令,需要;规则;祈使语气;adj.强制的;紧急的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |