“Because, my child, you are burning up your personal habits and tastes and nice Jersey8 cow nerves,” Ernestine said with delicious melancholy9. “I knew it was inevitable—you could never stay the rosy-cheeked schoolgirl. You’ll keep on using up your personal endowments. Fame is a cruel stepmother to personal happiness and you’ll be like the rest of us—quite impossible except when you are before the public.”
At which decree Thurley fled to engage in a rousing afternoon of ice skating with Mark, only to have Lissa dart10 down on them with her purring, dangerous smile and rescue Mark. She then sent him on an errand and drove Thurley home in order to bestow11 a few feminine scratches.
“I’m quite shocked, dearie,” Lissa began as they[321] bowled through the park, “to think you’d take up with the country bumpkin—really, with your career and looks and the way you’ve been keeping your hand in with Mark—” a bit of a pause here—“it seems to me you ought to play for bigger stakes than that funny storekeeper from Birge’s Corners ... aha, you are blushing! I’m glad you admit guilt12. All well enough when you lived in that queer place and he was the richest man in it. It is always well enough when one knows the richest man, no matter how queer the place! But now, Thurley, with the desirables you could—”
“Dan is an old friend—nothing more,” Thurley defended.
“Then keep your sentiment in check until you go back to that queer place, for you’ve let him come to town to see you—twice that I know about.” Lissa’s eyes danced with delight.
“He comes to buy things for his store.” Thurley was strangely alarmed at the secret being discovered.
“Does it mean he must see you? I suppose, poor lad, he spends half his profits on you. What sort of a bonnet13 will his wife have for spring? Oh, Thurley, if only Bliss14 and Ernestine hadn’t tried to make you a nun15 and an opera singer at once—wrong—all wrong as can be.”
Thurley felt it was her turn to scratch. “Anyway, Lissa, Dan is harmless; he’s only a shopkeeper and I’m not stopping his career.”
“Of course, you make him a mediocre17 dancer when he’s the ability to be something fine and big—I don’t know what, but I’m saying it is wrong for him to merely dance and if you’d prod18 him the other way, I’m sure he’d go. Besides, there’s no way out for you two, is there?[322] I can’t imagine your marrying any one and it isn’t fair to Mark—he’ll be dry rot before he knows it.”
“I married a mild person a long time ago; he let me gain my freedom in my own way—it is more satisfactory to be Madame Dagmar than plain Miss. I advise a marriage for the sole reason that the world always takes more interest in you; they are determined20 to find out what made the marriage go awry21. When critics begin to harpoon22, Thurley, get married, be divorced and you’ll find a sympathetic welcome from the public.” She lifted her gold chain with its dangling23 pencils, rouge24 boxes, tiny brandy flasks25 and other trifles, swinging it back and forth26 with a clinking sound.
“But Mark—is so young—”
“And I am so old? What an amiable27 little girl it is! I can stay young as long as youth loves me.” She seemed a wicked person hiding under a girl’s mask. “Don’t worry about Mark—unless you happen to be in love with him.”
When Thurley came home that afternoon, she found a basket of flowers from Dan and a note saying he would be in New York before June. Trips to New York were not ordinary, easily managed affairs for Dan. He must plan to be away without being suspected. Then he would come to town and stay at a hotel, restless, eager and thoroughly28 ashamed if he would but admit it, until Thurley permitted him to see her, drove with him, entertained him at her apartment, treating him in a half patronizing, half genuine manner—not quite clear herself either as to her motives29 or emotions. It was as impossible to think of an actual intrigue30 with Dan Birge as to associate schoolboys in the lower forms with being regular brigands31. True, they play at it—it is often their pet pastime—but there is a prompt ending of it when the[323] supper bell rings, wooden swords and false faces are willingly left in the woodshed and plain Tommies and Jacks32 cluster around the table!
So it was with Dan. Thurley, talking to him of this or that, of anything save the things she would have liked to talk of, now scolding him, threatening to send him home, playing now that she was annoyed, now that she was sentimental33, now pensive34 or even angry,—Thurley was doing a simple and a natural thing, proof of what Ernestine had prophesied35. Thurley was using Dan as her whipping boy, outlet for her repressed and lonely self. Dan was the ooze36, some one human to whom she could vent37 her whims38 and moods; some one wholesome39 and clean-minded with whom she was entirely40 at ease. She selfishly refused to think of the apparent indiscretion, the lack of honor which she incurred41 when she let him come from the Corners to stay in New York a week while she showed him her restless woman’s self, and let his own man’s heart learn to want her in new, dangerous fashion.
Yet Dan was “playing” too. After all, Lorraine was his wife and he had grown fond of her—used to her would be more truthful42 and less romantic. She was “mighty good to have about.” It was a relief to return from New York with memories of Thurley as the great opera singer, aloof43, coquettish, temperamental, useless save for her own work, and find the sunny little home with Lorraine who never questioned his absence nor shirked in her tasks. And if the tapestry44 furniture, Queen Anne walnut45 and mahogany pedestals with plaster statues got on Dan’s nerves when he recalled Thurley’s strangely beautiful apartment, and Lorraine’s dowdy46 frocks made him visualize47 Thurley in some wonderful swirl48 of satin and lace—Dan realized that a man may[324] be happily married and yet partly in love with some one else at the same time. After this realization49, he re-ordered his life to fit the situation and his generosity50 to Lorraine, like his manner, was dangerously kind and thoughtful. The town, which would never exhaust Thurley’s return as a topic for debate, said, fooling its narrow little self, “I guess Dan is sorry for how he acted!”
Sometimes Thurley wondered if Bliss Hobart knew of Dan’s visits. Once she was determined to make him speak to her about something save her voice and decided51 to tell him, but he forestalled52 her by saying that the “songbirds” were giving him an album as a present and although he did not care which picture most of them selected for his gift, he had an idea he wanted Thurley as her own self and not in any costume r?le—did she mind?
They were in his office when he made the request, Bliss sitting at his desk, as he had been sitting the first time she had seen him, his fingers touching53 the little mascot54 she had shyly presented that initial and wretched Christmas.
“Of course not,”—knowing she blushed unbecomingly. “What sort of a ‘myself’ picture will your majesty55 have?”
“Oh, just Thurley—when you blush do you know you leave the rouge boundaries far behind? Please don’t do your hair like oyster56 shells—Lissa is the only person sufficiently57 vulgar to do so—and wear a close fitting white turban besides!”
Emboldened58 by his request Thurley ventured further, “What makes you order me about so? Am I always to be a novice59 in your eyes?”
“I like to remember you as you were that first Christmas. I do think, Thurley, Christmas is the only time I[325] ever allow myself to be sentimental. Remember how you looked in your blue serge, bright red coat with silver buttons and an ermine tam tumbling off your head—a splendid, real thing you were.”
“I’ve a picture taken then,” she said softly.
“Say it is mine and I’ll tell you a secret—the greatest sculptor60 in the world is to be my guest very shortly. He is here from his native land, Alsace-Lorraine, to gather funds. He will speak to us because I’m going to give him a party and at the same time Collin will have the surprise of his life!”
“Not going to be married?”
“You women! Worse luck. I say—his picture, ‘Cupid and the Peacock,’ has been given the French medal—and the master will announce it to him.”
“I’ll send the picture up to-morrow,” Thurley promised.
Hobart’s eyes were twinkling and tender all in one. “Well, well, I’m more important than the great sculptor or Collin’s success! Thurley, you are becoming dangerous! Some day we shall have a great reckoning, you and I,” and before she could tell him of Dan he had bustled61 her out of the room, teasing her until she wished she had refused him a photograph of her own self.
When Thurley sat at Hobart’s supper-table to listen to the old master speak of Collin’s brilliant but heartless picture, as he aptly described it, and then a little of his treasure trove62 of art knowledge, as she saw his stooped and wasted body wrapped humorously in a gay shawl despite social custom, his face dark and dotted with bumps and wrinkles as a New England field is with granite63 boulders64, wild white hair like white flames leaping from his skull65 ... she missed the beauty and the wisdom of his words. Instead, her young and attractive[326] self recoiled66 from the physical appearance of this genius—the price the master paid in order to concentrate, shut out the things of romance, everyday diversion. As she looked at the faces so intent on the great man’s words—words like a benediction67, it seemed, for he knew his days were numbered—it seemed to Thurley she saw naught68 but distorted, repressed or self-indulged expressions and she must rise and leave the room, go into the world a young, untalented girl doing some senseless, regular thing and let those who should love her for her own self speak out and prove their worth; that this drowsy69 hum about fame and genius was nothing but a sedative70 the unloved adopt to still the ache. She did not want to sing better than any one else, better than Jenny Lind, so the world told her, she wanted to sing poorly—and have one man say, “I love you—”
Her hands clenched71 together under the cobwebby tablecloth72, as she realized that she had pledged to remain aloof from such possibilities and, by so doing, she had met the man whom she would always love ... she wondered if she had betrayed her lack of interest in the master. He was saying slowly,
“The two great influences helping73 me to attain74 my mark were, first, my mother was my friend; then, when middle age waned75 and inspiration seemed to have taken flight, I heard Bliss Hobart sing, and so I went on.” He was droning now over some technical thing but Thurley kept hearing the words, “I heard Bliss Hobart sing,” and with redoubled determination she promised herself to rouse the man in him to speak to her, to give her fresh inspiration, new courage—to go on alone.
“Everything is symbol,” the master was concluding, “and there must be unity76 about all artists no matter how disconnected and illogical they may appear on the surface.[327] The artist must not trust anything but his eyes, for they shall see the inner truth of whatever he is choosing to depict77. Ugliness to the vulgar becomes beauty to the artist, for he sees the inner meaning of it and knows that by portraying78 it faithfully he can destroy it. Take the picture, statue, word description or acted part of the drunkard, prostitute, the fool, the pervert—do they not cause the sane79 yet inartistic person to turn away in horror, resolved a thousand times more strongly to live right?”
... Here Thurley’s mind wandered back to the old man’s confession80, “I heard Bliss Hobart sing,” and she was lost in reverie until she caught again the master’s earnest voice as he advised all young artists to see statuary by lamplight in order to find the ivory shades of light and dark shadows that daytime never reveals, not to put more color in the sunrise than did Dame19 Nature nor carmine81 on young lips nor fat greens in the summer foliage82.
“For then,” he said, smiling wisely, “you cease to be artists, but become dreamy and conceited83 liars84! Be sincere; no matter what you may believe, be sincere.” After which he sat down as confused as a schoolboy, protesting against the applause, admitting in an undertone to Ernestine Christian85 that “America was too wonderful, her food too sophisticated, her women too daring.” Then Lissa tried to attack him from the other side with some silly question which caused the old man to lapse86 into his Alsatian jargon87,
“Tè, Matame, je ne sais pas—”
Thurley left the party early; Caleb told her afterwards that Bliss was disappointed for he wanted the master to hear her sing. She took a delight in having cheated him of the request. She went to her bedroom to rummage88 among her belongings89 until she found an overposed stage[328] picture of herself as Violette in “Traviata” and she inscribed90 it to Bliss Hobart, sealing it in an envelope and marking it, “For the album—could not find the other.”
She said her dutiful good night to Miss Clergy91, looking with magnanimous pity at the frail92 ghost lady who patted her white, ringed hand and said as she had done so many hundreds of times,
“How lovely you are, Thurley—and how proud I am! You have never given me any anxiety—not for a moment.... What a girl you are and what a joy it has been!”
To-night, Thurley lingered a moment longer than usual. “Do you think I shall never love?” she asked nervously93.
Miss Clergy sat up in bed, clutching her cashmere shawl in excitement. “Love a man?” she asked breathlessly. “Oh, my child, it would only bring harm!”
Thurley soothed94 her as if she were a child. “I won’t break my promise—not even after I repay you—and I’ll never repay you if I keep on buying pretties, will I? What an extravagant95 goose I’m getting to be, vying96 with every one else for the brightest trifles!” She was talking more to herself.
Miss Clergy misunderstood her meaning. “Never repay me, Thurley! What do I want with money? All I have will be yours, now do you understand? All I have!” she whispered hoarsely97.
“Go to sleep, there’s a dear,” Thurley said swiftly, “and when you watch my flirtations, remember they are only to make the stage loves the more real.” Turning off the light she left the ghost lady to her haunted memories.
Half the night Thurley searched among her possessions, finding and destroying notes from admirers, Dan’s boyish, imploring98 letters, her own childish diary she had[329] kept the first year in New York, Bliss Hobart’s few mementoes—the crayon sketches99 Collin had made of her abroad, Ernestine’s letters. She reread her press clipping book, her expense accounts, personal memoranda100; she added and deducted101 figures as if she were a scientific accountant. Then she walked into her clothes room and looked at all the lovely, rainbow things of becoming richness; she opened her jewel case and stared at the glittering bits of beauty within. It was as though she were taking a complete inventory102 of one Thurley Precore, prima donna.
She undressed herself slowly, never taking her eyes from her image in the glass, plaiting the brown hair into two braids, each as thick as her own arm. Then she rose and quoted quickly the master’s telling command,
“Be sincere—no matter what you may believe,” adding, “so that’s decided—no matter what comes,” startled at the insolent103 assurance of her eyes. If one could have seen her face as she slept one would have noticed foremost of all that a permanent sneer104 seemed painted on the scarlet105 lips.
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1
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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jeopardize
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| vt.危及，损害 | |
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morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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6
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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7
interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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nun
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| n.修女，尼姑 | |
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allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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mediocre
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| adj.平常的，普通的 | |
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prod
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| vt.戳，刺；刺激，激励 | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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harpoon
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| n.鱼叉；vt.用鱼叉叉，用鱼叉捕获 | |
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23
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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24
rouge
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| n.胭脂，口红唇膏；v.(在…上)擦口红 | |
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flasks
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| n.瓶，长颈瓶， 烧瓶( flask的名词复数 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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brigands
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| n.土匪，强盗( brigand的名词复数 ) | |
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jacks
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| n.抓子游戏；千斤顶( jack的名词复数 )；（电）插孔；[电子学]插座；放弃 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ooze
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| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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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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incurred
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| [医]招致的，遭受的； incur的过去式 | |
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42
truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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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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44
tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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45
walnut
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| n.胡桃，胡桃木，胡桃色，茶色 | |
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dowdy
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| adj.不整洁的；过旧的 | |
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47
visualize
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| vt.使看得见，使具体化，想象，设想 | |
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48
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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49
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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50
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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51
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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52
forestalled
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| v.先发制人，预先阻止( forestall的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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54
mascot
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| n.福神，吉祥的东西 | |
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55
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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56
oyster
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| n.牡蛎；沉默寡言的人 | |
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57
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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58
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
novice
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| adj.新手的，生手的 | |
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60
sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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61
bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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62
trove
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| n.被发现的东西，收藏的东西 | |
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63
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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64
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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65
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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66
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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67
benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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68
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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69
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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sedative
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| adj.使安静的，使镇静的；n. 镇静剂，能使安静的东西 | |
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71
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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73
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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waned
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| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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depict
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| vt.描画，描绘；描写，描述 | |
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portraying
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| v.画像( portray的现在分词 )；描述；描绘；描画 | |
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sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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81
carmine
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| n.深红色，洋红色 | |
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82
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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86
lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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rummage
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| v./n.翻寻，仔细检查 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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vying
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| adj.竞争的；比赛的 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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100
memoranda
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| n. 备忘录, 便条 名词memorandum的复数形式 | |
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101
deducted
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| v.扣除，减去( deduct的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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inventory
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| n.详细目录，存货清单 | |
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103
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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104
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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105
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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