Wha hangs his head, and a’ that,
The coward slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a’ that.”
Burns.
The “small grey speck” just visible from the summit of Nettleby Tower, on nearer approach expands into a stone cottage, which, excepting that it has two storeys instead of one, and can boast an iron knocker to the door, and an apology for a verandah round the window, has little that could serve to distinguish it from the dwelling1 of a common labourer.
We will not pause in the little garden, even to look at the bed of polyanthus in which its possessor takes great pride; we will at once enter the single sitting-room2 which occupies almost the whole of the ground floor, and after taking a glance at the apartment, give a little attention to its occupants.
It is evident, even on the most superficial survey, that different tastes have been concerned in the fitting up of the cottage. Most of the furniture is plain, even to coarseness; the table is of deal, and so are the chairs, but over the first a delicate cover[34] has been thrown, and the latter—to the annoyance3 of the master of the house—are adorned4 with a variety of tidies, which too often form themselves into superfluous5 articles of dress for those who chance to occupy the seats. The wall is merely white-washed, but there has been an attempt to make it look gay, by hanging on it pale watercolour drawings of flowers, bearing but an imperfect resemblance to nature. One end of the room is devoted6 to the arts, and bears unmistakable evidence of the presence of woman in the dwelling. A green guitar-box, from which peeps a broad pink ribbon, occupies a place in the corner, half hidden by a little table, on which, most carefully arranged, appear several small articles of vertu. A tiny, round mirror occupies the centre, attached to an ornamental7 receptacle for cards; two or three miniatures in morocco cases, diminutive9 cups and saucers of porcelain10, and a pair of china figures which have suffered from time, the one wanting an arm and the other a head,—these form the chief treasures of the collection, if I except a few gaily11 bound books, which are so disposed as to add to the general effect.
At this end of the room sits a lady engaged in cutting out a tissue paper ornament8 for the grate; for though the weather is cold, no chilliness12 of atmosphere would be thought to justify13 a fire in that room from the 1st of April to that of November. The lady, who is the only surviving member of the[35] family of Timon Bardon and his late wife the farmer’s daughter, seems to have numbered between thirty and forty years of age,—it would be difficult to say to which date the truth inclines, for Cecilia herself would never throw light on the subject. Miss Bardon’s complexion14 is sallow; her tresses light, the eye-lashes lighter15, and the brows but faintly defined. There is a general appearance of whity brown about the face, which is scarcely redeemed16 from insipidity17 by the lustre18 of a pair of mild, grey eyes.
But if there be a want of colour in the countenance19, the same fault cannot be found in the attire20, which is not only studiously tasteful and neat, but richer in texture21, and more fashionable in style, than might have been expected in the occupant of so poor a cottage. The fact is, that Cecilia Bardon’s pride and passion is dress; it has been her weakness since the days of her childhood, when a silly mother delighted to deck out her first-born in all the extravagance of fashion. It is this pride which makes the struggle with poverty more severe, and which is the source of the selfishness which occasionally surprises her friends in one, on all other points, the most kindly22 and considerate of women. Cecilia would rather go without a meal than wear cotton gloves, and a silk dress affords her more delight than any intellectual feast. She had a sore struggle in her mind whether to expend23 the little savings24 of her allowance on a much-needed curtain to the window[36] to keep out draughts25 in winter and glare in summer, a subscription26 to the village school, or a pair of fawn-coloured kid boots, which had greatly taken her fancy. Prudence27, Charity, Vanity, contended together, but the fawn-coloured boots carried the day! One of them is now resting on a footstool, shewing off as neat a little foot as ever trod on a Brussels carpet,—at least, such is the opinion of its possessor. Grim Pride must have laughed when he framed his fetters28 of such flimsy follies29 as these!
Opposite to Cecilia sits her father, whose appearance, as well as character, offers a strong contrast to that of his daughter. Dr. Bardon is a man who, though his dress be of the commonest description, could hardly be passed in a crowd without notice. His dark eyes flash under thick, beetling30, black brows with all the fire of youth; and but for the long white hair which falls almost as low as his shoulders, and furrows31 on each side of the mouth, caused by a trick of frequently drawing the corners downwards32, Timon Bardon would appear almost too young to be the father of Cecilia. There is something leonine in the whole cast of his countenance, something that conveys an impression that he holds the world at bay, will shake his white mane at its darts33, and make it feel the power of his claws. The doctor’s occupation, however, at present is of the quietest description,—he is reading an old volume of theology, and his mind is absorbed in his subject.[37] Presently a muttered “Good!” shows that he is satisfied with his author, and Bardon, after vainly searching his pockets, rises to look for a pencil to mark the passage that he approves.
He saunters up to Cecilia’s show-table, and examines the ornamental card-rack attached to the tiny round mirror.
“Never find anything useful here!” he growls34 to himself; then, addressing his daughter, “Why don’t you throw away these dirty cards, I’m sick of the very sight of them!”
Cecilia half rises in alarm, which occasions a shower of little pink paper cuttings to flutter from her knee to the floor. “O papa! don’t, don’t throw them away; they’re the countess’s wedding cards!”
Down went the corners of the lips. “Were they a duchess’s,” said Dr. Bardon, “there would be no reason for sticking them there for years.”
“Only one year and ten months since Annabella married,” timidly interposed Cecilia.
“What is it to me if it be twenty!” said the doctor, walking up and down the room as he spoke35; “she’s nothing to us, and we’re nothing to her!”
“O papa! you used always to like Annabella.”
“I liked Annabella well enough, but I don’t care a straw for the countess; and if she had cared for me, she’d have managed to come four miles to see me.”
[38]
“She has been abroad for some time, and—”
“And she has done with little people like us,” said the doctor, drawing himself up to his full height, and looking as if he did not feel himself to be little at all. “I force my acquaintance on no one, and would not give one flower from my garden for the cards of all the peerage.”
Cecilia felt the conversation unpleasant, and did not care to keep it up. She bent36 down, and picked up one by one the scraps37 of pink paper which she had scattered38. Something like a sigh escaped from her lips.
Dr. Bardon was the first to speak.
“I saw Augustine Aumerle yesterday at church; I suppose he’s on a visit to his brother the vicar.”
“How very, very handsome he is!” remarked Cecilia.
“You women are such fools,” said the doctor, “you think of nothing but looks.”
“But he’s so clever too, so wonderfully clever! They say he carried off all the honours at Cambridge.”
“Much good they will do him,” growled39 the doctor, throwing himself down on his chair; “I got honours too when I was at college, and I might better have been sowing turnips40 for any advantage I’ve had out of them. It’s the fool that gets on in the world!”
This, by the way, was a favourite axiom of[39] Bardon’s, first adopted at the suggestion of Pride, as being highly consolatory41 to one who had never managed to get on in the world.
“I think that I see Ida and Mabel Aumerle crossing the road,” said Cecilia, glancing out of the window. “How beautiful Ida is, and so charming! I declare I think she’s an angel!”
“She’s well enough,” replied the doctor, in a tone which said that she was that, but nothing more.
In a short time a little tap was heard at the door, and the vicar’s daughters were admitted. Ida indeed looked lovely; a rapid walk in a cold wind had brought a brilliant rose to her cheek, and as she laid on the table a large paper parcel which she and her sister had carried by turns, her eyes beamed with benevolent42 pleasure. Mabel was far less attractive in appearance than her sister, a small upturned nose robbing her face of all pretensions43 to beauty beyond what youth and good-humour might give; but she also looked bright and happy, for the girl’s errand was one of kindness. The want of a curtain in Bardon’s cold room had been noticed by others than Cecilia, and the parcel contained a crimson44 one made up by the young ladies themselves.
“Oh! what a beauty! what a love!” exclaimed Cecilia, in the enthusiasm of grateful admiration45. “Papa, only see what a splendid curtain dear Ida and Mabel have brought us!”
The doctor was not half so enthusiastic. It has[40] been said that there are four arts difficult of attainment,—how to give reproof46, how to take reproof, how to give a present, and how to receive one. This difficulty is chiefly owing to pride. Timon Bardon was more annoyed at a want having been perceived, than gratified at its having been removed. He would gladly enough have obliged the daughters of his pastor47, but to be under even a small obligation to them was a burden to his sensitive spirit. He could hardly thank his young friends; and a stranger might have judged from his manner that the Aumerles were depriving him of something that he valued, rather than adding to his comforts. But Ida knew Bardon’s character well, and made allowance for the temper of a peevish48, disappointed man. She seated herself by Cecilia, and began at once on a different topic.
“I have a message for you, Miss Bardon. I saw Annabella on Saturday.”
“The countess!” cried the expectant Cecilia.
“She was at our house, and regretted that the threatening weather prevented her driving on here.”
“I’d have been so delighted!” interrupted Cecilia, while the doctor muttered to himself some inaudible remark.
“But she desired me to say, with her love, how much pleasure it would give her if you and her old friend the doctor (these were her words) would come to see her at Dashleigh Hall.”
[41]
The grey eyes of Miss Bardon lighted up with irrepressible pleasure, and even the gruff old doctor uttered a rather complacent49 grunt50.
“She begged,” said Mabel, “that you would drive over some morning and take luncheon51, and let her show you over the garden and park.”
“Then she’s not changed, dear creature!” exclaimed Cecilia.
“And she hopes before long,” continued Mabel, “to find herself again at Milton Cottage.”
“Mill Cottage,” said the doctor gruffly; for the name of his tenement52 had for many years been a disputed subject between him and his daughter Cecilia;—“there’s common sense in that name: Mill Cottage, because it was once connected with a mill. To turn it into ‘Milton’ is pure nonsense and affectation. A fine title would hang about as well on this place as knee-buckles and ruff on a ploughman!” And having thus given his oracular opinion, Dr. Bardon strolled out into his garden, leaving the young ladies to pursue uninterrupted conversation together, none the less agreeable for his absence.
“You will excuse papa,” said Cecilia, feeling that some apology was required for her father’s abrupt53 departure.
Dr. Bardon’s manner was far rougher and less courteous54 than it would have been had he appeared as the lord of Nettleby Tower, instead of a poor[42] surgeon with indifferent practice. Whether it were that he was soured by disappointment, or that his pride shrank from the idea of appearing to cringe to those more favoured by fortune than himself, it would be perhaps difficult to determine; he appeared to consider that true dignity consisted in despising those outward advantages which he would probably have overvalued had he himself possessed55 them. Thus, while Cecilia’s pride led her to make the best possible appearance, and catch any reflected gleam of grandeur56 from opulent or titled acquaintance, Dr. Bardon rather gloried in the meanness of his home, never cared to hide the patch upon his coat, and considered himself equal in his poverty to any peer who wore the garter and the George.
The doctor appeared to have walked off his ill-humour, for when Ida and Mabel bade adieu to Miss Bardon, they found him ready to escort them to his gate. With not ungraceful courtesy he presented the young ladies with a nosegay of his choicest hyacinths, and even condescended57 to say that he valued their present for the sake of the fair hands that had worked it! There was something of the “fine old English gentleman” lingering yet about the disinherited man.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
sitting-room
|
|
| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
annoyance
|
|
| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
adorned
|
|
| [计]被修饰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
superfluous
|
|
| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
ornamental
|
|
| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ornament
|
|
| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
diminutive
|
|
| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
porcelain
|
|
| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
chilliness
|
|
| n.寒冷，寒意，严寒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
justify
|
|
| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
complexion
|
|
| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
redeemed
|
|
| adj. 可赎回的，可救赎的 动词redeem的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
insipidity
|
|
| n.枯燥无味，清淡，无精神；无生气状 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
lustre
|
|
| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
attire
|
|
| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
texture
|
|
| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
expend
|
|
| vt.花费，消费，消耗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
savings
|
|
| n.存款，储蓄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
draughts
|
|
| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
subscription
|
|
| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
prudence
|
|
| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
fetters
|
|
| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
follies
|
|
| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
beetling
|
|
| adj.突出的，悬垂的v.快速移动( beetle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
furrows
|
|
| n.犁沟( furrow的名词复数 )；（脸上的）皱纹v.犁田，开沟( furrow的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
downwards
|
|
| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
darts
|
|
| n.掷飞镖游戏；飞镖( dart的名词复数 )；急驰，飞奔v.投掷，投射( dart的第三人称单数 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
growls
|
|
| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的第三人称单数 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
scraps
|
|
| 油渣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
growled
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
turnips
|
|
| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
consolatory
|
|
| adj.慰问的，可藉慰的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
benevolent
|
|
| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
pretensions
|
|
| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
crimson
|
|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
reproof
|
|
| n.斥责，责备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
pastor
|
|
| n.牧师，牧人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
peevish
|
|
| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
complacent
|
|
| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
grunt
|
|
| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
luncheon
|
|
| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
tenement
|
|
| n.公寓；房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
condescended
|
|
| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |