“Don’t speak to me until we’ve been out at sea for a day,” Ernestine commanded, “then I’ll be a lovely, rosy4 thing, the jolliest big sister ever, and I’ll play the rest of the summer. Ask Collin—he knows. Collin, Bliss5 and I have often crossed together, and when we went aboard the boys seriously considered asking the steward6 not to place us at the same table. By the time we reached Havre they were making violent love to me, wondering if their own eyes had played them false in the beginning of the trip,” after which she unceremoniously bundled Thurley out of her apartment.
Thurley accepted the hint, as she had plenty to do in getting Miss Clergy8’s summer wardrobe completed and accompanying her to a rustic9 lodge10 in the Adirondacks where she would drone away the golden summer as she wished. Thurley had assumed, perforce, a maternal11 attitude towards Miss Clergy; she was even dictatorial12 and bullied13 her a trifle about being nice to other elderly persons who invited Miss Clergy for tea—Thurley had found this demeanor14 to have excellent results.
Although it was with relief that she left the ghost-lady at her summer’s boarding-place, it was with regret as well. Thurley had begun to feel that Miss Clergy[224] “belonged” to her as she had always tried to fancy some one somewhere must belong to her if she would only be patient long enough.
“I sha’n’t worry about you,” Miss Clergy had told her. “You’re the most satisfactory thing I ever owned.” Unconsciously she had spoken the truth. She did regard Thurley as a beautiful, talented sort of unsexed person dependent upon her for existence. Unselfish affection never entered the partnership16. She wondered why Thurley had turned away so abruptly17 as she spoke15 and pretended she had an errand outside the room.
“‘The most satisfactory thing,’” Thurley kept repeating as the car wheels turned her nearer New York and the coveted18 trip abroad. “‘The most satisfactory thing’—and I’m an ‘amusing thing’ to Ernestine, almost as amusing as Silverheels, only she loves Silverheels. And I’m an ‘interesting young thing’ to Bliss Hobart, some one who came to earth knowing how to sing and so he is spared the trouble of teaching me. And I’m a ‘lucky young thing,’ as Polly says, because I’ve the chance she has not, and I’m a ‘dangerous young thing’ to Lissa because Mark Wirth likes me—oh, if she knew how often he sends flowers—and I suppose Caleb thinks me a ‘worth while young thing’ because he gains hints for a new heroine.... I want just to be some one’s Thurley!” She looked at the hills without but she could not see them distinctly for tear-blurred eyes.
When she reached New York she telephoned Ernestine, only to be told she could not sail for at least another week, nor did Ernestine wish to be disturbed,—Silverheels had been accidentally killed and Ernestine had suffered a nervous collapse19.
Thurley heard the news rather carelessly. “Too bad,” she had said, “I would rather he went out quickly[225] than to be one of those blind little creatures that are a burden to themselves.”
“You don’t understand,” Ernestine answered sharply. “You don’t know anything about it. I am taking him west to an animal cemetery20 and I shall pick out a handsome headstone.”
Thurley wondered if this was a strained sort of joke. “Really?” she asked.
At which came a volley of reproaches over the wire to the effect that most assuredly would there be a memorial for Silverheels as well as a headstone; no other animal could ever take his place nor would she ever allow any other animal to make inroads into her heart. She wished his name never to be mentioned; perhaps Thurley would develop sufficiently21 within the next few years to comprehend that animal tragedies were the hardest to bear!
Which left Thurley feeling like a smacked22 infant not at all knowing the reason for the smacking23.
The hotel suite24 seemed musty and in bad taste as she wandered about restlessly. She must wait now until Ernestine chose to sail; she must keep away from her and amuse herself. She did not want to worry Miss Clergy with writing of the delay and she had closed her lesson books with an eager hand. Polly was busy doing some sort of hack25 work, and she supposed Collin would go off to Europe on the steamer they had planned to take. Anyway, she felt a shy reserve in calling him up to find out.
She was halfway26 angered at being forced into this submissive attitude. When she was a prima donna earning her own money she resolved that she would lead her own life in no half tones. It was all very well to know interesting, famous persons but to be at the mercy of their thousand and one peculiar27 notions and erratic28 actions was[226] another matter. She noticed that Collin respected Ernestine’s wishes and Ernestine also respected Collin’s. Save for Caleb’s being in love with Ernestine and thus being rendered somewhat helpless, he followed his own inclinations29 and permitted Ernestine to do likewise. No one dreamed of telling Bliss Hobart what to do and what not to do and never did any one, although disapproving30 of Lissa, contemplate31 trying to reform her. Mark danced as he would and lived as he wished and there was an end of it. And who in the wide world had more latitude32 than Sam Sparling, who flirted33 with a duchess one day and had a shop girl driving in his car the next, giving midnight orgies for “the boys” and sending them packing when his nerves gave warning—Sam who flew off to Lake Louise one day, recklessly cancelling engagements, and returning very keen for the green room and the footlights to play for weeks at a time and then “hop across,” as he said, to Paris to rent some crumbling34 chateau35 and have it put in the pink of condition while he was engrossed36 in reading and rehearsing a new repertoire37 like a veritable savant. Lucky Sam, Lissa, Mark, Ernestine, Collin, Caleb—all of them for that matter! Thurley’s lips were rebellious38 of expression as she sat that warm June morning before the window, looking at the Avenue which throbbed39 with personalities40 each bent41 on its own way.
She registered a vow42 that she, too, would acquire a personality, a hobby, a “phobia,” an intricate set of nerves and a color scheme—dear, yes, there should be no end to her “dew-dabs,” as Hobart named them. She would even have her own perfume, she would “recommend” a certain fabric43 and have her picture taken in a gown of it and printed in a leading fashion journal. She would rule over her apartment as rigorously as these others ruled[227] over theirs; she would evolve a distinctive44 form of entertainment—to say nothing of openly indulging in moods and sulks and wild bursts of joy—and cigarettes and liquors if they did not harm her voice. This should be the reward for these snubbed months of being the spectator, dependent on some one else’s bounty45.
There likewise came an impulse not worthy46 of the real Thurley—nevertheless it came as strongly and with as much temptation as all the rest of her tempestuous47 plans. When she was rich and famous and still beautiful, she would return to the Corners to haunt Dan Birge as he had never dreamed a woman could haunt him. She would have some sort of romantic interest in her life even if she had given her pledge to Miss Clergy never to make the hideous48 mistake of marriage.
As she sat there, some one tapped at the door and, running to open it, she found Caleb Patmore dressed in motor togs, his goggles49 pushed up on his forehead and a linen50 duster buttoned to his chin.
“I suppose you’re in mourning,” he said whimsically, “or have you insulted Ernestine by suggesting it is madness to swelter in town another week while she interviews all the monument makers51 as to the most fetching feline52 memorial?”
Thurley gave him a grateful expression. “It does seem foolish.”
“I’ve been banished53 forever from her presence—because I sent no flowers,” he laughed. “However, she told me to get you and take you out for the day—she can’t keep her June day custom of visiting me at the lodge and you are appointed proxy54. Come along, you look ready for a frolic.”
Thurley raced into her bedroom and tilted55 her hat over one eye. “My word, it will be good to go somewhere.[228] Imagine coming back from the mountains bubbling with excitement and finding the trip delayed for days. If it had been hours I would not have minded—but days—”
“And you’ve never been across, have you?” he asked sympathetically.
“Oh, never,” she answered in despair. “You don’t think Ernestine will give up the trip, do you?”
“Not as bad as that, because she has persuaded Collin to wait the week as well. It might be worse. All set, are you? First, I’ve some errands and then we’ll shoot out to the lodge and I’ll feed you the best strawberries floating in the richest cream you ever tasted.”
Thurley found bromidic enjoyment56 in Caleb’s country place. It was refreshing57 in its air of order. She felt that to be a commercialized artist had compensations, at least it enabled one to acquire what one wished of true art and appreciate it all the more by contrast with one’s own attempts!
Returning to the hotel, she found a note from Ernestine saying she had “come out of it” sufficiently to engage passage for the following Tuesday and she hoped Thurley would never mention Silverheels to her nor invite tragedy herself by acquiring a pet.
Thurley lay awake that hot summer’s night—the nearness of the vacation did not delight her over-much. Instead, she was thinking of herself as contrasted with Bliss, Collin, Ernestine, Caleb—even Polly. For there was a difference of birthright between these persons and herself. With a burning sense of discontent yet enforced honesty, Thurley realized that she had in herself a strain of sturdy peasantry; these others were more gently born—there was a difference in the way they spoke, dressed—she felt too superlative and over-insisting in comparison.[229] She wondered whether in time she would acquire the atmosphere of gentle breeding which these persons possessed58. Lissa had somewhat the same strain as herself—and she prayed she would not become like Lissa.
The difference between the peasant and the patrician59, Thurley concluded, after restless reflection, was that the peasant cannot endure pain, physical or mental, as well as he can stand hardships, lack of the niceties of existence, whereas the patrician can endure anguish60 but he cannot tolerate discomfort61. A poorly fitting or coarse gown would prevent Ernestine from playing her best, whereas Thurley could sing in calico, standing62 on the steps of her old box-car wagon63. Ernestine could “rescue” herself from suffering, a sort of diking away of any too engulfing64 emotion, whereas, if Thurley’s heart was aching or her mental state disturbed, she would not sing—she was like a wood beastie wanting to dart65 into deep forests and hide indefinitely.
Thurley had begun to long for ancestors, she admitted with a sigh; to possess portraits of spinsters with crumbling lace fichus and slim, white hands—Aunt so-and-so or Grandmother and Grandfather Precore! She wanted heirlooms, some tangible66 evidence of a family. Winter circus quarters with the pretended family recalled themselves to her with scant67 comfort. She was so young and promising68 and she was to spend her life singing for the world and not for any one loved person! There had been Dan who wanted her to sing for just himself. Had she loved Dan as Lorraine did, she would have been content to have it so. She would have married Dan by now, the new house would be glowing with rosy shaded lamps, passers-by would halt their teams to listen to Thurley singing to her husband ... but that was not the way it was to be. If only some kind spirit[230] with the power to release vows69 and wave a wand to change things about could do so and create such a house as Dan planned for her and yet have Bliss Hobart be its master and Thurley its mistress—how very silly and stupid would New York and opera seem, all these over-smart and cynical70 persons with self-consciousness their dominating note and selfish egotism their guardian71 angel! She would sing for her husband and work to please him. And how simple was the big rule of life, Thurley thought, as she sat up among the pillows, sleep the furthest from her thoughts: Love some one and have some one love you and make everything else resultant and interdependent! She sank back slowly—for she had promised never to marry and in so doing it had come about that she should meet the person whom she would have married had he been a steam-riveter! Ernestine and Europe seemed phantoms—she was not interested. Nor was she interested in Dan and Lorraine and their future. She was unconscious of everything except that Bliss Hobart treated her for the most part impersonally73, disappearing without explanation although the Buddha74 still stayed on his desk.
Mark, Lissa, Polly, Sam and Caleb saw the trio set sail—as gay a farewell as one could imagine, with Lissa in a costume indicating that she had achieved social distinction and Polly with her funny epigrams and humorous antics, clever mask for her aching heart. Mark had sent Thurley a basket of roses which were to be delivered that evening, but which the steward stupidly hauled to light before Lissa’s eyes.
“You better play safe,” Caleb murmured to Mark who was hanging over Thurley’s chair and refusing to notice Lissa’s efforts to get him away.
“One doesn’t see a girl like Thurley off for her first[231] trip across every day,” Mark answered. “Anyway, she’ll not be bothering with any of us in a year’s time; she’s destined75 to have a coronet on her handkerchief.”
Sam Sparling had made Thurley count inkstains on his fingers, which he had obtained by writing letters of introduction to his friends scattered76 in France and England. Collin, who was in a fearful stew7 about having left behind his pet kit77 of brushes, fumed78 up and down the deck with Caleb reminding him that there were shops in Paris.
Polly stood towards the rear of the group as they were given their shore warning.
“Good-by, Polly—a world of luck!” Collin said easily.
“Good-by, Collin—the same to you!”
“Good-by,” Ernestine called out. “When you see me next, I’ll be known as Thurley’s chaperone—I’m submerging my personality!”
“Good-by—America,” a sudden childish fear took possession of Thurley.
A chorus of jeers79 answered her. “Really? Well, nothing like being impersonal72 first to last.... I say, Thurley, if you’re not more polite, we’ll go buy a locket and each chop off a lock of hair and stick inside. How would you like that for an albatross?”
“Good-by, Americans,” she corrected, “it’s just—just—”
“Sing it,” suggested Polly.
Without ado, Thurley began “Auld Lang Syne,” causing waving handkerchiefs to be pressed to eyes and every one aboard to ask who the tall girl was with the glorious voice and if she was to sing at ship’s concert?
Ernestine shrugged80 her shoulders as the song ended[232] and Thurley, abashed81 at the furore, sank down in her steamer chair. Harsh tug82 whistles took up the burden of noise.
“You’ll learn not to waste your songs,” was all Ernestine said.
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收听单词发音
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1
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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2
petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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3
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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4
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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dictatorial
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| adj. 独裁的，专断的 | |
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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
demeanor
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| n.行为；风度 | |
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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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partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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18
coveted
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| 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 | |
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19
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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smacking
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| 活泼的，发出响声的，精力充沛的 | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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inclinations
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| 倾向( inclination的名词复数 )； 倾斜； 爱好； 斜坡 | |
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disapproving
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| adj.不满的，反对的v.不赞成( disapprove的现在分词 ) | |
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31
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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33
flirted
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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chateau
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| n.城堡，别墅 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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repertoire
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| n.(准备好演出的)节目，保留剧目；(计算机的)指令表，指令系统， <美>(某个人的)全部技能；清单，指令表 | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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39
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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41
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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42
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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43
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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44
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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46
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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47
tempestuous
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| adj.狂暴的 | |
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48
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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49
goggles
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| n.护目镜 | |
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50
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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51
makers
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| n.制造者，制造商（maker的复数形式） | |
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52
feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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53
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
proxy
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| n.代理权，代表权；（对代理人的）委托书；代理人 | |
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55
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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56
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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57
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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58
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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59
patrician
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| adj.贵族的，显贵的；n.贵族；有教养的人；罗马帝国的地方官 | |
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60
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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61
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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62
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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63
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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64
engulfing
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| adj.吞噬的v.吞没，包住( engulf的现在分词 ) | |
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65
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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66
tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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67
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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68
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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69
vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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70
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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71
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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72
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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73
impersonally
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| ad.非人称地 | |
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74
Buddha
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| n.佛；佛像；佛陀 | |
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75
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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76
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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77
kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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78
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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79
jeers
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| n.操纵帆桁下部（使其上下的）索具；嘲讽( jeer的名词复数 )v.嘲笑( jeer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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80
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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81
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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82
tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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