Appear in gayer coats than I;
Let me be dressed fine as I will,
Flies, flowers, and worms excel me still.”
The visit of the sisters Aumerle, or rather the message which they had brought, had caused great excitement in the mind of Cecilia Bardon. One thought was now uppermost there, thrusting itself forward at all times, interfering2 with domestic duties, taking her attention even from her prayers; that thought was—how should she persuade her father to pay a visit to Dashleigh Hall!
Dr. Bardon held out against entreaties3 for two days; on the third he yielded, having probably all along only made show of fight to avoid seeming eagerly to catch at an invitation from a titled acquaintance.
The next question was—How was the visit to be paid? Four miles was a distance too great to be traversed on foot by Cecilia Bardon.
“We could get a neat clarence from Pelton,” suggested the lady.
[52]
“Pelton!” exclaimed the doctor,—“why, Pelton is six miles off! You’ll not find me paying for a clarence to go twenty miles to carry me to a place to which I could walk any fine morning. I’ve not money to fling away after that fashion.”
“If only the Aumerles kept a carriage!” sighed Cecilia.
“If they kept fifty I’d not ask for the loan of one,” said the doctor, with all the pride of poverty.
“Dear me! how shall we ever get to Dashleigh Hall!” cried Cecilia.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll hire our neighbour the farmer’s donkey-chaise,—that won’t ruin even a poor man like me.”
“A donkey-chaise!” exclaimed Miss Bardon in horror.
“Why, you’ve been glad enough of it before now to carry you over to Pelton, when you had shopping to do in the town.”
“Pelton,—why, yes,—shopping,—but to call on a countess!”
“A countess, I suppose, is made of flesh and blood like other people; if she’s such an idiot as to care whether her friends come to her in chariots or donkey-chaises, the less we have to do with her the better, say I.”
“But to drive through the park—to go up to the grand hall, to—to—to be seen by all the fine liveried servants—”
[53]
The doctor actually stamped with impatience4. “What is it to us,” he cried, “if all the lackeys5 in Christendom were to see us? We’re doing nothing wrong—nothing to be ashamed of. I should be as much a gentleman in a chaise, or a cart, drawn6 by a donkey or a dog, as if I’d fifty racers in my stables, and a handle a mile long to my name.”
The pride of the father and the daughter were at variance7, but it was the same passion that worked in both. Cecilia sought dignity in accessories, Dr. Bardon found it in self. She would climb up to distinction in the world by grasping at every advantage held out by the rank and wealth of her friends; he would rise also, but by trampling8 under foot rank and wealth as things to be despised. The pride of the daughter was most ridiculous—that of the father most deadly. Reader, do you know nothing of either?
One of the things on which Bardon prided himself was on being master in his own house—no very difficult matter, as his subjects consisted but of one gentle-tempered daughter, and one old deaf domestic. On the present occasion Cecilia soon found that she must go to Dashleigh Hall in a donkey-carriage, if she intended to go at all; and after a longer struggle than usual, which ended in something like tears, she yielded to the pressure of circumstances, and consented to accompany her father the next day in the ignoble9 vehicle which he had selected. This point settled, her mind was free to give itself to the[54] darling subject of dress. Half the day was devoted10 to touching11 and retouching last summer’s bonnet12, which looked rather the worse for wear, and selecting such articles of attire13 as might give a distinguished14 and fashionable air to the lady of Milton Cottage. Cecilia was not unsuccessful. Never, perhaps, had a more elegantly dressed woman stepped into a donkey-chaise before. Her flounced silk dress expanded to such fashionable dimensions as scarcely to leave space in the humble15 conveyance16 for the accommodation of the doctor.
If her dress was an object of triumph to Miss Bardon, it was also one of solicitude17 and care. Never, surely, were roads so dusty, and never was dust more annoying. Her nervous anxiety and precautions irritated the temper of the doctor, who found more than enough to try it in the obstinacy18 of the animal that he drove, without further provocation19 from his companion. Both father and daughter were well pleased when they at length reached the ornamental20 lodge21 of Dashleigh Park.
“Papa,” suggested Cecilia timidly, “could we not leave the donkey to graze in the lane, and go through the grounds on foot?”
“Leave the hired donkey to be carried off by any party of tramping gipsies! I’m not such a fool,” said the doctor.
The lodge-keeper obeyed the summons of the bell, which was rung with more force than was needful;[55] he stood still, however, without opening the gate, to inquire what the occupants of the donkey-chaise wanted.
“Open the gate, will you?” cried the doctor, in his rough, domineering manner.
“For Dr. and Miss Bardon, of Milton Cottage, friends of the countess,” said Cecilia nervously22, feeling very uncomfortable at her own position.
The gate-keeper looked hesitatingly at the lady, then at the chaise, then at the lady again. It is possible that her appearance decided23 his doubts, or that the impatience of the doctor overbore them, for the gate slowly rolled back on its hinges, and the donkey-chaise entered the park.
Cecilia could scarcely find any charm in the beautiful drive, magnificent timber, verdant24 glades25, broad avenues affording glimpses of distant prospects26, sunny knolls27 on which grazed the light-footed deer. She could not, however, refrain from an exclamation28 of delight as a sudden bend in the road brought her unexpectedly in sight of the lordly Hall.
Dr. Bardon surveyed the splendid building before him with a gloomy, dissatisfied eye. What was it compared to Nettleby Tower, in the mind of the disinherited man? “Mere29 gingerbread! mere gingerbread!” he muttered to himself, as he drew up at the lofty entrance. He saw more beauty in a ruined buttress30 of the ancient home of his fathers than in all the florid decorations of the countess’s magnificent abode31.
[56]
Cecilia Bardon was well-nigh overpowered by the sense of the grandeur32 before her. The presence of three or four of the earl’s powdered footmen was enough in itself to make her seat in the donkey-chaise almost intolerable to the lady.
“Lady Dashleigh at home?” inquired the doctor from his low seat, in a tone that would have sounded haughty33 from a prince.
The countess was happily at home; and Cecilia, hastily descending34, breathed more freely when no longer in contact with the odious35 conveyance. She felt something as a prisoner may feel when he has left the jail behind, his connection with which he desires to forget, wishing that all others could do so likewise. Dr. Bardon flung the rein36 on the neck of the donkey, and followed his daughter into the Hall.
They were introduced into a splendid apartment, fitted up with magnificence and taste. Poor Cecilia, as she there awaited the countess, painfully contrasted the room with its glittering mirrors and gilded37 ceiling, painted panels and velvet38 cushions, with the homeliness39 of her own humble abode. Pride, who revels40 in human misery41, would not omit the opportunity of inflicting42 an envious43 pang44. But his barbed dart45 went deeper—far deeper into the heart of the unhappy Bardon—the man who would have scornfully laughed at the idea of the possibility of such as he envying any mortal in the world.
Her greeting to Dr. and Miss Bardon was most gracious and cordial.
Page 57.
[57]
Cecilia had scarcely time to gaze around her, shake out her dusty flounces, and glance in a mirror to see if her scarf fell gracefully46, when Annabella herself appeared from an inner apartment.
The appearance of the youthful countess was rather attractive than striking. Her figure was below the middle height, and so light and delicate in its proportions as to have earned for Annabella in girlhood the title of Titania, queen of the fairies. Her complexion47 had not the purity of that of her cousin Ida; but any emotion or excitement suffused48 her cheek with a beautiful crimson49, and lit up the vivacious50 dark eyes, which were the only decidedly pretty feature in a face whose chief charm lay in its ever-varying expression. The irregular outline of the countess’s profile deprived her countenance51 of all claim to absolute beauty, but no one when under the spell of her winning conversation, could pause to criticise52 or even notice defects where the general effect was so pleasing. The dress of the countess was not such as might have been expected in one of her rank. It was picturesque53 rather than costly54, fanciful rather than fashionable. Annabella had just been bending over her desk, busy with a romance which she was writing; her tresses were slightly disordered, and a small ink stain actually soiled the whiteness of one little delicate finger.
Her greeting to Dr. and Miss Bardon was most gracious and cordial. She came forward with both[58] hands extended, and welcomed her old friends to Dashleigh Hall with a frank kindliness55 which at once set Cecilia at her ease. “She is not changed in the least; she is the same fascinating being as ever,” was the reflection of the gratified guest.
Dr. Bardon was not so easily won. He was out of temper with himself and all the world. The touch of pride had turned indeed his wine of life into a concentrated acid. Annabella could not but notice the hardness of his manner, but she was neither surprised nor offended, for she knew the character of the man. “I will conquer the old lion!” thought she, and she exerted all her powers to do so. How thoughtfully attentive56 the countess became, how she humoured her guest’s little fancies, how she avoided jarring upon his prejudices, and talked of old times, old scenes, old friends, till she fairly beat down, one after another, every barrier behind which ill-humour could lurk57!
Annabella took the arm of the doctor, and with Cecilia at her side, sauntered down the marble terrace into the garden. She consulted Timon Bardon about the disposition58 of her flower-beds, asked advice concerning the management of plants, and finally overcame the old lion altogether by begging for a slip from his Venice Sumach. The moment that the doctor found that he could confer a favour instead of accepting one, all his equanimity59 returned; and when the party re-entered the beautiful drawing-room,[59] the only shadow on the enjoyment60 of any of the three was Cecilia’s consciousness that the gravel-walks had impaired61 the beauty of her fawn-coloured boots.
“What a sweet creature the countess is!” was Miss Bardon’s silent reflection; “prosperity has done her no harm; she has not a particle of pride!”
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1
watts
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| （电力计量单位）瓦，瓦特( watt的名词复数 ) | |
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interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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5
lackeys
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| n.听差( lackey的名词复数 )；男仆（通常穿制服）；卑躬屈膝的人；被待为奴仆的人 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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7
variance
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| n.矛盾，不同 | |
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trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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9
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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10
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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14
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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15
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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16
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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17
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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18
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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19
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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23
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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27
knolls
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| n.小圆丘，小土墩( knoll的名词复数 ) | |
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28
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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buttress
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| n.支撑物；v.支持 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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homeliness
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| n.简朴，朴实；相貌平平 | |
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40
revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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41
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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42
inflicting
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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44
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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45
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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46
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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47
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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48
suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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50
vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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51
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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52
criticise
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| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
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53
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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54
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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55
kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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56
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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57
lurk
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| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
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58
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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59
equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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60
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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61
impaired
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| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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