“Start myself to-morrow. . . .” This she had read quite distinctly; then
next few words; but, right at the bottom, there was another sentence, which was now standing4 clearly and distinctly,
like letters of fire, before her mental vision. “If you wish to speak
The whole was signed with the hastily-scrawled little device—a tiny
star-shaped flower, which had become so familiar to her.
One o'clock precisely! It was now close upon eleven, the last minuet was being danced, with Sir Andrew Ffoulkes and beautiful Lady Blakeney leading the couples, through its delicate and intricate figures.
Close upon eleven! the hands of the handsome Louis XV. clock upon its ormolu bracket seemed to move along with maddening rapidity. Two hours more, and her fate and that of Armand would be sealed. In two hours she must make up her mind whether she will keep the knowledge so cunningly gained to herself, and leave her brother to his fate, or whether she will wilfully6 betray a brave man, whose life was devoted7 to his fellow-men, who was noble, generous, and above all, unsuspecting. It seemed a horrible thing to do. But then, there was Armand! Armand, too, was noble and brave, Armand, too, was unsuspecting. And Armand loved her, would have willingly trusted his life in her hands, and now, when she could save him from death, she hesitated. Oh! it was monstrous8; her brother's kind, gentle face, so full of love for her, seemed to be looking reproachfully at her. “You might have saved me, Margot!” he seemed to say to her, “and you chose the life of a stranger, a man you do not know, whom you have never seen, and preferred that he should be safe, whilst you sent me to the guillotine!”
All these conflicting thoughts raged through Marguerite's brain, while, with a smile upon her lips, she glided9 through the graceful10 mazes11 of the minuet. She noted—with that acute sense of hers—that she had succeeded in completely allaying12 Sir Andrew's fears. Her self-control had been absolutely perfect—she was a finer actress at this moment, and throughout the whole of this minuet, than she had ever been upon the boards of the Comédie Fran?aise; but then, a beloved brother's life had not depended upon her histrionic powers.
She was too clever to overdo13 her part, and made no further allusions14 to the supposed billet doux, which had caused Sir Andrew Ffoulkes such an agonising five minutes. She watched his anxiety melting away under her sunny smile, and soon perceived that, whatever doubt may have crossed his mind at the moment, she had, by the time the last bars of the minuet had been played, succeeded in completely dispelling15 it; he never realised in what a fever of excitement she was, what effort it cost her to keep up a constant ripple16 of banal17 conversation.
When the minuet was over, she asked Sir Andrew to take her into the next room.
“I have promised to go down to supper with His Royal Highness,” she said, “but before we part, tell me . . . am I forgiven?”
“Forgiven?”
“Yes! Confess, I gave you a fright just now. . . . But, remember, I am not an Englishwoman, and I do not look upon the exchanging of billet doux as a crime, and I vow18 I'll not tell my little Suzanne. But now, tell me, shall I welcome you at my water-party on Wednesday?”
“I am not sure, Lady Blakeney,” he replied evasively. “I may have to leave London to-morrow.”
“I would not do that, if I were you,” she said earnestly; then seeing the anxious look once more reappearing in his eyes, she added gaily19; “No one can throw a ball better than you can, Sir Andrew, we should so miss you on the bowling-green.”
He had led her across the room, to one beyond, where already His Royal Highness was waiting for the beautiful Lady Blakeney.
“Madame, supper awaits us,” said the Prince, offering his arm to Marguerite, “and I am full of hope. The goddess Fortune has frowned so persistently20 on me at hazard, that I look with confidence for the smiles of the goddess of Beauty.”
“Your Highness has been unfortunate at the card tables?” asked Marguerite, as she took the Prince's arm.
“Aye! most unfortunate. Blakeney, not content with being the richest among my father's subjects, has also the most outrageous21 luck. By the way, where is that inimitable wit? I vow, Madam, that this life would be but a dreary22 desert without your smiles and his sallies.”
点击收听单词发音
1 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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2 blur | |
n.模糊不清的事物;vt.使模糊,使看不清楚 | |
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3 obliterated | |
v.除去( obliterate的过去式和过去分词 );涂去;擦掉;彻底破坏或毁灭 | |
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4 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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5 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
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6 wilfully | |
adv.任性固执地;蓄意地 | |
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7 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
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8 monstrous | |
adj.巨大的;恐怖的;可耻的,丢脸的 | |
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9 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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10 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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11 mazes | |
迷宫( maze的名词复数 ); 纷繁复杂的规则; 复杂难懂的细节; 迷宫图 | |
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12 allaying | |
v.减轻,缓和( allay的现在分词 ) | |
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13 overdo | |
vt.把...做得过头,演得过火 | |
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14 allusions | |
暗指,间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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15 dispelling | |
v.驱散,赶跑( dispel的现在分词 ) | |
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16 ripple | |
n.涟波,涟漪,波纹,粗钢梳;vt.使...起涟漪,使起波纹; vi.呈波浪状,起伏前进 | |
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17 banal | |
adj.陈腐的,平庸的 | |
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18 vow | |
n.誓(言),誓约;v.起誓,立誓 | |
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19 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
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20 persistently | |
ad.坚持地;固执地 | |
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21 outrageous | |
adj.无理的,令人不能容忍的 | |
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22 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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