Harry6 Bennett sipped7 his breakfast coffee grimly. Its savour had departed: for ninety seconds earlier Mrs. Bennett had fled upstairs in a flush of anger and tears. In five minutes he would have to run for the train; and what man can soothe8 an outraged9 wife in five minutes? He ate his toast without relish10, gazing sourly on the blue-and-white imitation Copenhagen china, the pretty little porcelain11 marmalade pot, and the big silver coffee-urn12.
The desperate inequality of married life pierced his heart. Why should he have to accept in silence tart13 remarks uttered by his wife, while the least savagery14 of his own was cause for tears?
He rushed upstairs to say a few consoling words. The bedroom door was locked. Compassion15 fled, and he growled16 furiously through the panels. Then he ran hotly for the train.
It seems unreasonable17: but the lives of human beings are not guided by reason. Harry had come to the conclusion that the silver coffee-urn was at the bottom of all their squabbles.
Before Elaine Addison surrendered herself into his capable hands, there had been a competitor for the honour of surrounding her with sectional bookcases, linen18 closets, potted hydrangeas, and the other authentic19 trappings of a home.
Aubrey Andrews was the rival warrior20. He was the kind of man who always has a lot of crisp greenbacks in a neat leather bill-fold. Harry's hard-earned frogskins were always crumpled21 in a trousers pocket This may seem trivial, but it distinguishes two totally different classes of men. Aubrey was tall, dark, well groomed22; he played billiards23 and belonged to expensive clubs. It was supposed that his wife would be beyond the reach of financial worries. He kept a horse and easy office hours.
Harry—well, Harry was no aristocrat24. He worked hard for what he got, and didn't get much. He was neither tall, nor dark, nor well groomed. But he was a fine, lovable, high-minded chap, and to everyone's surprise, including his own, he got Elaine.
Tennyson had a good deal to do with it, I think. Harry still read Tennyson, although that excellent poet is no longer fashionable, and kept on repeating what Tennyson said about Elaine. And finally Elaine could not help saying, “My Lancelot!” and melting into his arms.
Aubrey gave them a magnificent silver coffee-urn for a wedding present, and presently enlisted25 for service, first on the Mexican border and then in France, where he became a heroic and legendary26 figure, surrounded in Elaine's mind by the prismatic glamour27 of girlhood days.
That coffee-urn was a stunner! It was far the handsomest thing in the little suburban28 house, except, of course, Elaine herself. Beneath its shining caldron sat an alcohol lamp that rendered a blue flame and kept the coffee hot. Elaine's initials—her maiden29 initials—were engraved30 upon it, and those of the donor31: E. A. A. A. The hand of the insidious32 silversmith had twined the A's together very gracefully33.
Every time he looked at it, Harry felt subconsciously34 irritated, although he hardly realized why.
It stood on the little mission sideboard, outshining everything else in the pretty dining room. It was Elaine's particular pride, and was used only on special occasions. Often it was brought out for the little celebrations that young married couples have every now and then. And, curiously35 enough, these celebrations very often ended in tears. The polished dazzle of those silver curves was only too apt to suggest to Elaine's radiant little beauty-loving heart other handsome wares36 she would like to have, or unlucky comparison of the relative beauty of the wedding presents sent by her friends and his; or Harry would make some blunt remark about his not being able to give her all that some other husband might have.
Alas37! Something of the sardonic38 spirit of the black-browed Aubrey seemed to radiate from his urn. Can a coffee-um hypnotize? Grotesque39 as it appears, little by little they realized that the innocent piece of silver was marring many an otherwise happy hour.
Let's see, how was it? He had said: “I'm sorry, dearest; I shall have to be rather late tonight. The head of my department is away, and I've got an extra lot of work to do.” She said: “Oh, dear—oh, dear! Then we sha'n't be able to go to the theatre, shall we?” He said: “We can go next week, Brownie.” She said: “Something horrid42 always happens when we have this coffee-urn on the table.”
(N. B. Right here, when the danger topic was introduced, he should have put on an extra soft pedal. But did he? Not a bit. As soon as the urn was mentioned his eyes began to flash.)
“Well,” he said, “don't let's have it on so often!” She said: “Any one might think you were jealous of it. It's the only handsome piece of silver I've got.”
“I'm awfully44 sorry about to-night, honey, but the work's just got to be done.” She said: “Why didn't you let me know sooner you were going to work late? I could have arranged to go and see Mother.” He said: “Oh, well, everything I do is always wrong, anyway! I suppose if I could buy you a roomful of silver like that old tureen, you wouldn't mind.”
And after that it was not far to the deluge45. All conducted according to the recognized technique of quarrelling, passing through the seven stages of repartee46 outlined by Touchstone, which should never be forgotten by those happily married:
2 The quip modest
3 The reply churlish
5 The counter-check quarrelsome
6 The lie with circumstance
7 The lie direct
All day both Mr. and Mrs. Bennett were unpleasantly conscious of their undigested altercation50 lying black and gloomy in the back of their minds. At lunch-time he tried to call her on the telephone; but the wire did not answer. Indeed, she had gone to spend the day in town with friends, and was to go to dinner and the theatre with them. She left no message for Harry, and gave the cook permission to go out overnight.
About nine o'clock he got home tired and eager to resume their usual blissful companionship. The house was dark and untenanted. In a rage, he threw away the box of candy he had brought, and got himself some bread and cheese from the ice-box.
In the dining room his eye fell upon the coffee-urn. He swore at it. Just then Elaine called him up, and in a cool, distant voice told him that she had decided51 to spend the night in town with her mother.
The next morning Elaine came home about ten o'clock, humming a merry little air as she walked down the quiet suburban street. She and Harry had patched things up over the telephone at breakfast-time.
The sun was shining brightly, and she was planning a specially52 nice dinner for poor Harry that evening. After all, it wasn't the dear boy's fault that he had to work so hard. It was horrible of her to run off and desert him that way. Tonight she would show him how much she loved him. They would have ice cream with hot chocolate sauce, and meringues and chicken salad; and she would buy him a cigar and hide it in his napkin. And the old coffee-um should go back in the glass cabinet.
The cook, with a very grave face, opened the front door.
“Heavens, Emily, what's the matter?” cried Mrs. Bennett.
“Burgled!” said Emily, tragically53. “Someone's been an' bruk in the dining-room winder. Footpads, I guess.”
One window stood an inch or two open, and one of the panes55 was broken. She glanced round the room. Nothing was disarranged, but her glance fell on the sideboard.
The coffee-urn was gone!
“Well,” she said, “that's very extraordinary. Mr. Bennett slept here last night, and he's a light sleeper56. He always locks the windows before he goes to bed. Is anything else missing?”
“The apple pie's gone out o' the ice-box,” said Emily.
“Oh, well, that's Mr. Bennett, I'm sure,” said Elaine. “I'll call up the police right away, and see if they can do anything. My nice coffee-urn! Why, it's the finest thing we had in the whole house.”
Before the police arrived, Mrs. Bennett herself took a careful look round the outside of the house. She found nothing unusual except a cigar butt57 lying on the ground near the broken window. She picked it up gingerly. A section of the gilt58 band still adhered to the wrapper. She could read the name, Florona. She carried the fragment into the cellar and threw it into the ash-can.
Two policemen arrived shortly, examined everything, and asked innumerable questions. Mrs. Bennett gave them a careful description of the coffee-urn. They departed, promising59 to do everything possible to trace it. They said that a piece of silver so large and unusual would not be hard to locate with the aid of the pawnbrokers60. Then Mrs. Bennett went upstairs to think.
It seemed very strange that the thieves should take the urn and nothing else, when there were other pieces of silver beside it on the sideboard. She called up Harry, who was horrified61 to learn of the loss. He had slept right through the night without hearing a sound. He offered to come home if he could do anything to help; but she would not hear of it.
That night Mrs. Bennett had a special little dinner waiting for her husband: his favourite soup, a tender steak, fried potatoes, ice cream with hot chocolate sauce. And after dinner they discussed the theft of the urn.
“I don't understand how it was that you didn't hear anything,” said Elaine. “You generally sleep so lightly. Did you sit up late?”
“No,” he said; “I sat in the dining room until about ten, eating cheese and apple pie, and smoking a cigar. Then I went to bed——”
“Oh, you just reminded me!” cried Elaine. “I bought you a nice cigar to smoke after your dinner, and I forgot to give it to you.”
From the mantelpiece she gave him a cigar with a Florona band.
“Why, isn't that nice!” said he, “That's the kind I always smoke. I didn't think you knew one brand from the other.”
“I know more than you think, old man,” she said.
When Harry came home the next night, he brought a bulky parcel with him.
“I'm awfully sorry about the urn, Brownie,” he said. “I went to see the detectives to-day, and they think there's very little chance of getting it back; so I brought you this to take its place.” She opened the package. It was a big China coffee-jug of rose-and-white porcelain, flagrantly out of harmony with her silver and blue china.
“Honey,” she said, “I think it's just lovely. It's ever and ever so much nicer than that old urn.”
A week later, in the afternoon, the local chief of police called up Mrs. Bennett.
“Come down here to the police station,” he said. “We've found your coffee-pot. The most extraordinary thing you ever heard of. We found it buried in a haystack, back of Webster's barn. Why any one should leave it there is more than I know. The thief must have been frightened and hid it. Will you come down and identify it?”
Mrs. Bennett hastened down to the police station. There on the sergeant's table stood the famous urn, the pride of her heart. There was no doubt about it: the initials were there—it was hers. Tarnished62 and spotted63 by exposure, it was still the handsomest piece of silver she had ever seen. Involuntarily she gave a cry of delight. Then she hesitated. After all, compared to Harry's happiness and hers, what was a silver urn?
“Oh, captain,” she said, “I'm so disappointed. That's not mine! It's very much like it, but it isn't mine.”
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1
maxim
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| n.格言，箴言 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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7
sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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9
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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10
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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11
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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12
urn
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| n.（有座脚的）瓮；坟墓；骨灰瓮 | |
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13
tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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14
savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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15
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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16
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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17
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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18
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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19
authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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21
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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22
groomed
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| v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的过去式和过去分词 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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23
billiards
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| n.台球 | |
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24
aristocrat
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| n.贵族，有贵族气派的人，上层人物 | |
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25
enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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26
legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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27
glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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28
suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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29
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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30
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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31
donor
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| n.捐献者；赠送人；(组织、器官等的)供体 | |
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32
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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33
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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34
subconsciously
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| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
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35
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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36
wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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37
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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38
sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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39
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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41
tiff
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| n.小争吵，生气 | |
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42
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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43
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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44
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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45
deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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46
repartee
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| n.机敏的应答 | |
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47
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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48
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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49
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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50
altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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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
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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53
tragically
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| adv. 悲剧地，悲惨地 | |
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54
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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55
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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56
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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57
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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58
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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59
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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60
pawnbrokers
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| n.当铺老板( pawnbroker的名词复数 ) | |
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61
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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62
tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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63
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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