thrill her with new energy; it chilled and weakened her. She found Dorothy all aflutter over the attentions of a rich old widower1 who complimented her brutally2.
Dorothy called him her “conquest” and spoke3 of her “flirtation.” Sheila knew that she used the words rather childishly than with any significance, but her face
betrayed a certain dismay.
Dorothy bristled4 at the shadow of reproof5. “Don’t look at me like that! I guess if Jim can butterfly around the way he does I’m not going to insult everybody that’
s nice to me.”
Sheila disclaimed6 any criticism, but the incident alarmed her. And she thought of what Satan provided for idle hands.
Civilization keeps robbing women of their ancient housework. Spinning, weaving, grinding corn, making clothes, and twisting lamp-lighters are gone. Their husbands do
not want them to cook or sweep or wait upon their own children. With the loss of their back-breaking, heart-withering old tasks has come a longer life of beauty and
desire and a greater leisure for curiosity. They were unhappy and discontented in their former servitude. They are unhappy and discontented in their useless freedom.
Sheila saw everywhere evidences that grown-ups, like children, must either become sloths7 of indolence, or find occupation, or take up mischief8 for a business. She
The summers were not quite so hard to get through, for they had usually been periods of vacation for her. Sometimes she spent a month or two with her father and
mother, or they with her. Sometimes old Mrs. Vining visited her and shamed her with the activity that kept the veteran actress alert at seventy years.
Sheila found a cynical10 amusement in pitting Mrs. Vining and Bret’s mother against each other. They began always with great mutual11 deference12, but soon the vinegar of
age began to render their comments acidulous13. Mrs. Winfield had grown old in the domestic world and the church. Mrs. Vining had grown old in the wicked theater. Of
course Sheila was prejudiced, but to save her she could not discover wherein Mrs. Winfield was the better of the two. She was certainly narrower, crueler, more somber14.
Moreover, she was also less industrious15, for to Sheila the hallowed duties of the household were not industry at all, or at best were the proper toil16 for servants.
Mrs. Winfield seemed to her to be a Penelope eternally reweaving each day the same dull pattern she had woven the day before.
When the autumn came her father and mother and Mrs. Vining and the other theater folk emerged from their estivation and made ready for the year’s work, while Sheila
Daughter-in-law and mother-in-law began to get on each other’s nerves. Sheila could not forget the glory of the theater. Mrs. Winfield could not outgrow18 her horror of
it, and she could not refrain from nagging19 allusions20 to its baleful influences. To Sheila it was a case of the sooty pot eternally railing at the simmering kettle.
One day Sheila was wrought21 to such a pitch of resentment22 that she blurted23 out the whole story of her encounter with Jim Greeley.
“He was no actor,” said Sheila, triumphantly24, “but he tried to win his friend’s wife away.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Winfield, “but his friend’s wife was an actress.”
Against such logic25 Sheila saw that she would beat her head in vain. She suppressed an inclination26 to tear her hair out and dance on it. And she gave Mrs. Winfield up
as hopeless. Mrs. Winfield had long before given Sheila up as beyond redemption, and eventually she moved away from Blithevale to live with a widowed sister in the
Middle West.
Sheila asked herself, bitterly, “What am I getting out of life? When one trouble goes another bobs into its place.” By the time the mother-in-law retired27 the
children had grown up to a noisy, uncontrollable restlessness that drove the office-weary Bret frantic28.
It was he, and not Sheila, that insisted on their occasional flights to New York, where they made the rounds of the theaters. Sometimes Sheila ran back on the stage to
embrace her old friends and tell them how happy she was. And they said they envied her, knowing they lied.
They always asked her, “When are you coming back?” and when she always answered, “Never,” they did not believe her. Yet they saw that discontent was aging her.
Discontent was never yet a fountain of youth.
Sheila returned to Blithevale like a caught convict. Plays came there occasionally, and Bret liked to see them as an escape from the worries he found at home or the
worries that followed him from the office. He enjoyed particularly the entertainments concocted29 with the much-abused mission of furnishing relaxation30 for the tired
business man. As if the tired business man were not an important and pathetic figure, and his refreshment31 one of the noblest and most needful acts of charity.
At these times when Sheila sat and watched other people playing, and often playing atrociously, the r?les that she should have played or would have enjoyed, her
homesickness for the boards swept over her in waves of anguish32. Sometimes the yearning33 to act goaded34 her so cruelly that she almost swooned. She felt like a canary
full of song with her tongue cut out.
Now and then Eugene Vickery came to visit his sister Dorothy. He usually spent a deal of time with Bret and Sheila.
He was a different Eugene so far as success and failure can alter a man. That play of his which Sheila had tried in stock and Reben had allowed to lapse35 Eugene had
patched up and sold to another manager who had a star in tow.
Play and star had been flayed36 with jubilant enthusiasm by the New York critics, but had drawn37 enough of the public to keep them on Broadway awhile, and then had
succeeded substantially on the road in the cheaper theaters known as the “dollar houses.”
Vickery the scholar was both irritated and amused by the irony38 of his success. Almost illiterate39 journalists called his wisdom trash and only the less sophisticated
people would accept it. His feelings were only partly soothed40 by the dollar anodyne41 and the solace42 of regular royalties43.
His manager ordered another play, and Vickery tried to write down to his public. The result was a dismal44 fiasco, critically and box-officially. The lesson was worth
the price. He went back to writing for himself in the belief that if he could succeed in the private theater of his own heart he would be sure at least of one
His bookish tastes and training led him to a bookish ideal. He felt that the highest dramatic art was in the blank-verse form, and he felt that there was something
nobler in the good old times of costumes and rhetoric46. In fact, blank verse demanded heroic garb47, for when the words strut48 the speakers must. His Americanism was
revealed only in the fact that he chose for his chief character a man struggling for liberty, for the right of being himself.
He selected the epic49 argosy of the Puritans and their battle for freedom of worship. His central figure was a granite50 and velvet51 soul of the type of Roger Williams.
He told Sheila and Bret a little about his scheme and they thought it wonderful. Bret found any literary creation incredibly ingenious, though more brilliant mental
Sheila thought Vickery’s plan wonderful because her heart swelled53 at the lofty program of the plot. Blank verse had been her first religion and Shakespeare her first
Scripture54. It was one of her bitterest regrets that she had never paid the master the tribute of a performance of any of his works since she adapted his “Hamlet” to
the needs of her own children’s theater.
“Who’s going to play your hero?” Bret asked, idly.
Vickery answered, “Well, I haven’t read it to him yet, but there’s only one man in the country with the brains and the skill and the good looks.”
“And who might all that be?” Sheila asked, with a laugh.
“Floyd Eldon.”
The name seemed to drop into a well of silence.
Vickery had forgotten for the moment the feud55 of the two men. The silence recalled it to him. He spoke with vexation:
“Good Lord, people! haven’t you got over that ancient trouble yet? When a grudge56 gets more than so old the board of health ought to cart it away. Eldon’s got over
it, I know. A year or two ago he was telling me how kindly57 he felt toward Sheila and how he didn’t really blame Bret.”
Bret was not at all obliged for Eldon’s magnanimity, but Vickery went on singing Eldon’s praises till he noticed the profound silence of his auditors58. He suddenly
felt as if he had been speaking in an empty room. He saw that Bret was sullen59 and Sheila uneasy. Vickery spread the praise a little thicker in sheer vexation.
“Reben is going to star Eldon the minute he finds his play. I’m hoping I can fit him with this. He’s on the way up and I want to ride up on his coat-tails. He’s a
gentleman, a scholar, an athlete—”
“So was Shakespeare, the noblest mind in English literature.”
“I don’t care for the type,” said Bret. “Always posing, always talking about themselves.”
“Thanks, dear,” said Sheila, flushing.
“Oh, I don’t mean you, honey,” Bret expostulated. “That’s why I loved you—you almost never talk about yourself. You’re everything that’s fine.”
Vickery tried to restore the conversation to safer generalities. “Actors talk about their personality sometimes because that is what they are putting on the market.
But did you ever hear traveling-men talk about their line of goods? or clergymen about the church? or manufacturers about what they are making? Do you ever talk shop
yourself?”
“Oh no!” Sheila laughed ironically, and now Bret flushed.
“Shop talk is merely a question of manners,” said Vickery. “Some people know enough not to talk about themselves, and some don’t. There are lots of old women that
will talk you to death about their cooks and their aches. I’m one of those who jaw61 about themselves all the time. It’s not because I’m conceited62, for the Lord knows
I have too much reason for modesty63. It’s just a habit. Eldon hasn’t got it. He’ll talk about a r?le, or about an audience, but you’ll never hear him praise
himself. And there are plenty of actors like him.”
“You don’t know enough of them to be a judge,” Vickery insisted.
“No, and I don’t want to,” Bret growled65. “I prefer good, honest, wholesome66, normal, real men—men like Jim Greeley and other friends of mine.”
A little shiver passed through Sheila. Bret felt it, and assumed that she was distressed67 at hearing Eldon’s name taken in vain. Vickery was not impressed with the
choice of his brother-in-law as an ideal. Dorothy had told him too much about Jim. He did not suspect, however, that Sheila had cause to loathe68 him. He continued to
talk his own shop, and to praise Eldon, to celebrate his progress, his increasing science in the dynamics69 of theatricism.
“He’s becoming a great comedian,” he said. “And comedy requires brains. Pathos70 and tragedy are more or less matters of emotion and temperament71, but comedy is a
science.”
As Vickery chanted Eldon up, Sheila’s eyes began to glow again. Bret fumed72 with jealousy73, imputing74 that glow of hers to enthusiasm for Eldon.
The fact was that she was thinking of Eldon without a trace of affection. She was thinking of him as a successful competitor, as a beginner who was forging ahead and
growing expert, growing famous while she had fallen out of the race.
She was more jealous of Eldon than Bret was.
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1
widower
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| n.鳏夫 | |
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brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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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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bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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disclaimed
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| v.否认( disclaim的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sloths
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| 懒散( sloth的名词复数 )； 懒惰； 树獭； （经济）停滞。 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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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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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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acidulous
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| adj.微酸的；苛薄的 | |
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somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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insipid
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| adj.无味的，枯燥乏味的，单调的 | |
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outgrow
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| vt.长大得使…不再适用；成长得不再要 | |
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nagging
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| adj.唠叨的，挑剔的；使人不得安宁的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的现在分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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21
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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23
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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26
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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27
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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concocted
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的过去式和过去分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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30
relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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31
refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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32
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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34
goaded
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| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
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35
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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36
flayed
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| v.痛打( flay的过去式和过去分词 )；把…打得皮开肉绽；剥（通常指动物）的皮；严厉批评 | |
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37
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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38
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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39
illiterate
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| adj.文盲的；无知的；n.文盲 | |
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40
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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41
anodyne
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| n.解除痛苦的东西，止痛剂 | |
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42
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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43
royalties
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| 特许权使用费 | |
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44
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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45
auditor
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| n.审计员，旁听着 | |
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46
rhetoric
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| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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48
strut
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| v.肿胀，鼓起；大摇大摆地走；炫耀；支撑；撑开；n.高视阔步；支柱，撑杆 | |
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49
epic
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| n.史诗，叙事诗；adj.史诗般的，壮丽的 | |
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50
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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51
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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52
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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53
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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54
scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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55
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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56
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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auditors
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| n.审计员，稽核员( auditor的名词复数 )；（大学课程的）旁听生 | |
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59
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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60
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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61
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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64
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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65
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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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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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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69
dynamics
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| n.力学，动力学，动力，原动力；动态 | |
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70
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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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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73
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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imputing
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| v.把（错误等）归咎于( impute的现在分词 ) | |
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