To whom could those snortings and snufflings belong save Billie, her beloved dachshund!
Claudia yawned lazily. Billie gave another tug5 to the brown plait on her pillow. That was always Billie’s way of engaging her attention in the morning. Extraordinary, how long these superior mortals took to awake in the morning when they were always so bright and fond of pulling his ears at night!
The outline of the map of the world was still blurred6 for his mistress when she vaguely7 remembered that something very pleasant had happened to her. What[35] was it that made her open her eyes that sense of bien être?
“Oh!... Oh! Billie!” She turned on her elbow and kissed Billie’s silky brown coat with unusual fervour. He was the most delightful8 thing in dachshunds, with a coat like sealskin, only softer and warmer, and the most pathetic and companionable eyes in the world. He was exclusively devoted9 to Claudia, who, in return, gave him a big corner of her heart. To the rest of the family he was a little elusive10 and aloof11, rather bored with their desultory12 attentions, occasionally very busy with his own thoughts and affairs. Only Claudia’s hand gave him real joy. Sometimes out of politeness he allowed Pat to think he liked her petting, but that was because she was only a young thing and Claudia was fond of her.
“Billie,” she said, with a rippling13 laugh of sheer happiness, “you don’t know it, but I’m different from what I was yesterday morning. I’m engaged!”
Billie regarded her seriously. He seemed to be digesting the news and wondering what difference it would make to him.
“Yes,” continued his mistress, giving him a hug. “I’m engaged. I’ve promised to marry someone very, very nice. Congratulate me, Billie.”
“Thank you, sir. I am sure they were most sincere congratulations. Heigh ho! we shall have to tell mother.... What do you say to breakfast, eh?”
She put her hand on the bell, and Billie blinked happily. He always waited to take his breakfast with Claudia, and really she was very late during the season.
“Billie, don’t rootle about in the bed like that. Be more respectful, because I’m much more important to-day than I was yesterday.” Then she lay back among the pillows and thought happily of Gilbert. She longed to see him or hear from him. She hoped he would telephone or[36] perhaps send her some flowers on his way to his chambers15. She was certain he must be thinking of her just as she was thinking of him.
She had a curious and not unpleasant feeling that last night she had settled her whole life. She was like someone who had been standing16 at the cross-roads awaiting an indication which turning to take. Last night she had taken what she was sure was the right turning. Now the road of her life seemed to stretch before her like a glorious golden riband.
Yet, oddly enough, at the back of her mind was a sense of loss. She had lost the right of making her choice, she had lost a certain excited feeling that life was a great adventure. The adventure had taken definite shape now like a fluid that has been poured into a mould. Some of the delightful indecision, one of the biggest “perhapses” of life had gone. She had always taken it for granted that she would marry without making it her business to do so. She had looked with soft, speculative17 eyes at the men she met. Perhaps it will be this one—perhaps I shall sit next to him at dinner to-night—perhaps he will be one of my partners at the dance to-morrow! A girl who knows that she is attractive to men always has this feeling consciously or unconsciously. Now this feeling had merged18 into something else, the happy glow of knowledge. Love had come.
It seemed to Claudia that it had come rather suddenly, although she had known Gilbert for many years. It was only the last month he had seemed a “possible.” She remembered the exact moment that the label had fixed19 itself upon him. She had been at a big dinner-party, given by the wife of the Home Secretary, and the man who took her in had talked all through the fish and the entrée about him. That was before the Driver case, when he had definitely proved his metal, but her dinner companion had been brought into contact with[37] him over some business and been greatly impressed with his ability. Claudia had heard vaguely of Gilbert’s distinguished20 career at Oxford21, but the thumb-nail sketch22 which her companion drew of him in his chambers arrested her attention. Then later that very evening she had met him at a reception which her aunt, Lady Pitsea, gave.
Claudia had an almost Greek appreciation23 and love for physical fitness, and had Gilbert not been a most personable man, her interest in his mental achievements might have evaporated. But because he was strong and came of healthy stock, the night-oil that he had burned had so far left no mark upon him. There was no doubt that he had personality, that he would never be overlooked wherever he went. Claudia could never have married a handsome man without brains, but it is doubtful if she could have loved anything lacking in physical fitness. She demanded a certain amount of beauty and colour in her life, just as she demanded a certain amount of fresh air and food.
Until the reception they had not met for a couple of years, and he showed unmistakably that he admired her. After that he seemed to dwarf24 the other men with whom she ate and danced and talked. That she did not meet him often at social gatherings—he was too busy to go—whetted her appetite for his company. Sometimes he would come in to some gathering25 with a little line of fatigue26 between his brows. It had been an agreeable pastime to smooth it out by her conversation and gaiety.
She realized this morning, as she stirred her coffee, that actually they had talked very little. Not that he was a silent companion, but they had always talked in crowded places of other people and current events. Necessarily their talk had been largely on the surface—a large surface, but yet only the surface of the things that matter. She had never, since childhood’s days, been[38] with him for many consecutive27 hours. She had never, since those days, been alone with him in the country, tramping side by side, or sitting for long, lazy hours under the green trees. Claudia knew that such times bare the man or woman of mannerisms and conventionalities, and expose the real ego28. Two or three times before she had thought she liked men, but always on further and closer knowledge she had found them disappointing. Then she had been annoyed with herself for even that faint stirring of interest. In some unaccountable way she had felt humiliated29 when her brain failed to approve of them. But Gilbert could not disappoint her. How could such an admittedly clever man disappoint any woman? She was glad he was going to have a career, she saw herself helping30 him, entering into his thoughts and aims, working and loving side by side. She was glad she had not fallen in love with a nonentity31 or an idle, rich man.
She reflected that she would have hated to feel apologetic for her husband. And yet she had seen girls of her own age, whom she knew to be clever and even brilliant, marry men, and not for money or position, who seemed to be absolutely devoid32 of the grey matter we call brain. She had heard them rave33 rapturously over commonplace males that bored her in twenty minutes, and she knew that Love is a freakish thing. Fate might have played a joke on her. “I wonder what it is exactly—this sex attraction?” she murmured to the sleeping dachshund, and pigeonholed34 the question for future investigation35, when her mind was quite clear and at rest, for Gilbert had urged a speedy marriage.
Gilbert’s love-making had been almost inarticulate. She wished he had said something memorable36, something she could enshrine in her heart and when she was an old woman bring forth37 with a happy smile—“Do you remember you said——” But Gilbert had hardly even[39] said the conventional Ich liebe dich. Ah! but his heart, beating violently against her own, had said it. Claudia did not know that in the crucial moment love and passion are indistinguishable, so she had no doubt that his soul had spoken to hers.
Billie raised his head from the eiderdown and looked questioningly at the door. Someone was approaching. A rap with something sharp and hard followed.
“Can I come in, Claudia? Johnson said you were having your breakfast.”
Claudia called out permission to enter, and a fair young Amazon, riding-crop in hand, stalked into the room. It was Patricia Iverson, generally called Pat, the youngest of the three children of Circe. Pat was unusually tall, and in her long riding-habit she looked even taller than usual. She was flushed with exertion38, her fine, fair skin showed almost startlingly against the black of her hat and habit.
“Bill, where are your manners? Why don’t you wag your tail? All right, I shall wag it for you! What’s the good of being a dog with a usable tail, if you don’t wave it when a lady enters the room? Oh! it was spiffing in the Park this morning.”
“I am sure it was. I feel ashamed to be in bed, but I was so late again this morning. Past four. Aren’t we fools to dance the night away and spend the mornings in bed?”
“Yes,” said Patricia, disposing her long limbs in an easy chair. “But I shall do it when I get the chance.”
“You ache to be dissipated?”
“Rather, because after dissipation you can appreciate virtue39 and—a rest. Claudia, why are you smiling like a Cheshire cat this morning? I hate people to smile like that unless they tell me the reason. It’s like hearing the music of a dance you can’t go to.”
Claudia wondered if she would break the news to Pat.[40] It was strange, but there was nobody to whom she felt compelled to impart her news. There was no one would quite understand and be glad with her in her gladness. Pat was so young, and then you never knew how she would take things. Sometimes she was as hard as nails, and Claudia naturally felt she would like a sympathetic ear.
“I’ve been riding with Mr. Paton,” continued Patricia, pulling Billie’s ear, a proceeding40 which he bore with the patience of an early Christian41 martyr42. “We had such a jolly gallop43. He’s awfully44 nice, isn’t he?”
“Very nice,” agreed Claudia heartily45. She felt that the whole world of men and women were nice this morning, but she could honestly give Paton an emphatic46 adjective. “He’s a great friend of—of Gilbert Currey’s.”
“He says such quaint47 things sometimes, and he isn’t a bit like most men you meet. Do you know what we were talking about this morning? We were discussing animals, and how far they feel human emotion, and how much brain they’ve got. He’d been reading some German book on the subject. He’s fond of animals. Oh! he sent you a message.”
“Yes?” Claudia was wondering what the bond of sympathy was between the two men.
“He told me to tell you that he’s ordered that book you wanted from the publisher. And I am to convey an invitation for us both to have tea with him to-day in Kensington Gardens. We don’t need Jujubes.”
Jujubes was a disrespectful name applied48 to Miss Morrow who had once been with them as governess, and had slid into position of amiable49 General Utility. She could be used as a chaperon, walking-stick, or sedative50. Hence Pat’s nickname for her.
“I promised to go to some theatricals51 at Stretton House,” said Claudia, grabbing her diary, “and, let me see—yes, I ought to go with Aunt Carrie to call on some people.”
[41]
But her words were regretful. She would have loved to sit in the Park and have tea under the trees, where the birds come hopping52 round your chairs for crumbs53, and everything around is green and fragrant54. It would have accorded so much better with her mood than paying formal calls on people to whom she couldn’t tell the great and important thing that had happened to her.
“Don’t be a pig, Claudia. I’m not allowed to do much, and you might say yes. Mr. Paton won’t want me without you.”
“Oh, yes, he would. Take Jujubes.”
“Pooh! he looks upon me as a flapper. Wait till mother gives me some proper dresses and I begin to fill out. I look like the Bones of the Holy Innocents now, but you wait till I get some curves. They are beginning to come.”
She nodded her head knowingly, as she looked down at herself.
Claudia suddenly decided55 she would throw over Aunt Carrie. This was a special day in her life, and she felt she ought to do just what she wanted most. If only Gilbert could tea with them! She thought of telephoning, and then some instinct warned her that Gilbert would think it trivial. Gilbert not being available, Claudia found the idea of a quiet sunny afternoon with Colin Paton quite pleasing. One never had to be politely talkative and interested in him. One talked or one didn’t talk, just as one pleased. Sometimes one found oneself talking particularly well, helped by the right word or the appreciative56 smile. Claudia thought of him in a sort of revolving57 roundabout with Gilbert, as she took her bath, and tried to find the right word to express him. The best she could get was “companionable,” although she felt that was a little tepid58.
When she was dressed she sent a message to her mother. She must tell her the news. Sometimes Claudia[42] did not see her for days together, and they were in no sense mother and daughter, but Claudia felt it was the proper thing to inform her at once. It had always seemed to her friends that Mrs. Iverson was a mother merely for the three weeks she had to remain an invalid59. After that she shook off her maternity60.
The maid came back with the answer that Mrs. Iverson was having her face massaged61, but that Claudia could come to her.
Her mother’s bedroom and dressing-room suggested a hothouse with a quantity of mirrors. Circe had always been something of an exotic, and lately she had grown more so, or what Pat called “stuffier.” There was an insidious62 Eastern perfume that always trailed after Sybil Iverson, and the room Claudia entered was heavy with it. The hangings and huge divan63 were Oriental in colouring and material. The sun was excluded from the room by pink curtains closely shrouding64 the windows, and electric lamps with becoming shades were burning. Her mother was in the dressing-room, prostrate65 under the hands of the masseur, who had a great reputation among women, especially those who were on the borderland of youth and middle age. He was ridiculously expensive, but his hands were magical.
Mrs. Iverson lazily opened her closed eyelids66 and regarded Claudia. Her eyes were still very beautiful. “You wanted to see me dear?”
Claudia hesitated. “Yes, but——” If it had been Pat she would have said cryptically67 “P and P”—private and particular.
“Well, Jules has nearly finished.” Mrs. Iverson was still beautiful, but with a great effort. In her youth when the famous portrait had been painted, she had been almost as fair as Patricia, but now her hair was tinted68 auburn and her complexion69 was enamelled to match. Her eyes—still marvellous—were of a deep shade of[43] blue, like a violet under the rays of the midday sun. Her mouth was much fuller than Patricia’s; and told its own tale. Mrs. Iverson had always been unutterably bored with her children, but she seemed to like or rather dislike Claudia the least. Patricia annoyed her, because she was reminded of her own lost freshness, and Jack71 she found stupid. She really rather liked to talk to Claudia for a quarter of an hour or so. Claudia was neither gauche72 nor ignorant. And her brown eyes, with their purposeful gaze—well, some memories are pleasanter than others, even to a Circe.
Claudia picked up the Occult Review, and tried to be interested in it till her mother should be free.
At length Jules departed. Mrs. Iverson inspected the result in the hand-mirror.
“He’s a marvel70. I hope he’ll still be alive when you want him.... I like the cut of your skirt, Claudia. Who made it? Ah! I thought so. She can cut skirts. Don’t you find her ruinous?”
It was a polite interrogation, as though to a stranger.
“Yes, I thought her more of a robber than usual,” continued her mother. “I’m glad you haven’t got such long legs as Patricia. When she comes toward me with her arm waving she reminds me of a sign-post on a country road. It’s a pity. Men don’t like too long women. You and I are just the right height. I think this modern girl by the yard is a mistake. None of the famous women such as Jeanne du Barry and Ninon de Lenclos were very tall. Patricia will make most men look ridiculous.”
“Perhaps Pat doesn’t want to be a Ninon de Lenclos,” suggested Claudia, with a twinkle.
“Nonsense, every woman wants to be a Ninon de Lenclos, if she could have the chance. Don’t be taken in by this talk of ‘I wouldn’t.’ It’s a case of ‘I couldn’t.’ Most women have to be virtuous73, because they can’t be[44] anything else, and they make the best of it. What’s that American saying, ‘Virtue must be its own reward—any other would be a tip.’ Do you know what Ninon said herself, ‘Love is a passion, not a virtue: and a passion does not turn into a virtue because it happens to last—it merely becomes a longer passion.’ ... But what did you want to see me about?”
It should have been a propitious74 opening, this discussion of love, but somehow it was not.
“I think—I think I ought to tell you something.”
“Don’t unless you want to,” said her mother quickly. “I don’t think you ought to tell me anything. If you think it will interest me—tell me, but don’t use me as a mother, please.”
“Would it interest you to know that I am engaged?” It was out. Claudia breathed more freely. Then she blushed as her mother looked at her with unusual attention.
“Yes, that quite interests me. I have wondered once or twice what sort of a man you would choose. Who is it?”
“Gilbert Currey, mother.”
“Gilbert C——yes, the M.P.’s son. Does something, doesn’t he? A barrister? I remember his mother Marian Darby. She never liked me, and I returned the compliment; but we were once great friends. What made you choose her son?”
“Mother! I—I fell in love with him. Why do people marry?”
Circe smiled at her young daughter, who met her eyes quite squarely but was obviously uncomfortable.
“For hundreds of reasons, my dear. You’ll find out some of them later on. Of course, one must marry”—she retouched an eyebrow75 with a little brush—“just as one must have a birth certificate and a license76 for the motor.... I don’t think I’ve noticed him since he was a boy. I remember him at Wynnstay. I used to see[45] him in a canoe on the river, deep in his books. Is he still strenuous77 and booky?”
“People say he is going to have a big career.” It was difficult to talk to her mother.
“Really? And you want to be part of that career? Well, I daresay it is all right. Better tell your father. I should think you might have done better from a worldly point of view, though the Curreys are rich, and Gilbert will succeed to the baronetcy.... You’ve really made up your mind? Your aunt was telling me the other day that you are considered one of the most attractive girls in Society to-day. She mentioned a Russian prince of great renown—I forget his name——”
“He is fifty and has been married twice already.”
“Men grow more appreciative, not less so, as they get older. And Russians are sometimes fascinating. I remember one—Russians can be very wild and romantic.”
“No?—perhaps you are right. There is plenty of time, and I daresay a Russian would not make a comfortable husband. Well, child, I am glad if you are glad. I must meet my future son-in-law.” She made a little grimace79. “It adds at least five years to my age, but I suppose I can’t ask you to consider me. I think he had better come to dinner one night. Look in my engagement book and find a night. Thursday—yes, that will do. Write down your name and Gilbert’s, and then I shall remember all about it. One or two of the family might be asked.” She gave her daughter a smile of dismissal. It was very sweet, if a trifle automatic, and it showed to advantage her perfect and natural teeth. Mrs. Iverson never kissed her children, but then she thought kissing between women ridiculous. The only thing she ever kissed of the female sex was a little toy terrier.
[46]
When Claudia went downstairs, relieved that the news had been broken, she found the book had arrived that Colin Paton had promised to obtain for her. She cut the string and dipped into it. It was a volume of essays that he had mentioned to her and that she had expressed a desire to read. Colin Paton never forgot things.
She looked from the book to the telephone and wished that Gilbert had found time to ring her up and just say, “Hallo! Here am I and there are you!” It would have seemed to make last night more real, more sure. Like a puff3 of wind it crossed her mind that the sender of the book would have somehow got in touch with the woman he had asked to be his wife the night before. Pat liked him. Perhaps he would marry Pat, she thought idly.
She was too keenly, too tinglingly alive for delicate essays that morning. Later on she would enjoy them. She put them down and picked up an illustrated80 paper.
The first thing that met her gaze was a portrait of Gilbert and a paragraph recording81 his right to such a distinction.
There was no one in the library, and she raised it impulsively82 to her lips. It was not a satisfactory kiss, for the paper smelt83 of something nasty and oily. Still the portrait seemed to bring Gilbert into the room with her. And this man was hers, this man at whom all the Bar was looking, was hers, hers, hers!
Because she was only twenty-one, thoroughly84 healthy and full of life, she danced round the room holding the paper to her breast. Her eyes were alight with happiness; her soft lips were curved with the joy of love and life.
Then having danced her little Te Deum to the music of her heart, she waltzed out of the door with a cheery shout for Billie. She would take him for a walk and give him joy, too.
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收听单词发音
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1
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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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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desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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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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speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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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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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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dwarf
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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ego
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| n.自我，自己，自尊 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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nonentity
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| n.无足轻重的人 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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rave
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| vi.胡言乱语；热衷谈论；n.热情赞扬 | |
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pigeonholed
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| v.把…搁在分类架上( pigeonhole的过去式和过去分词 )；把…留在记忆中；缓办；把…隔成小格 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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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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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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theatricals
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| n.（业余性的）戏剧演出，舞台表演艺术；职业演员；戏剧的( theatrical的名词复数 )；剧场的；炫耀的；戏剧性的 | |
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hopping
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| n. 跳跃 动词hop的现在分词形式 | |
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crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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tepid
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| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
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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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maternity
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| n.母性，母道，妇产科病房；adj.孕妇的，母性的 | |
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massaged
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| 按摩，推拿( massage的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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insidious
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| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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shrouding
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| n.覆盖v.隐瞒( shroud的现在分词 )；保密 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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cryptically
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tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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gauche
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| adj.笨拙的，粗鲁的 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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recording
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| n.录音，记录 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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