There came a swish of skirts in the passage without, and the door opened. In walked Cleone, a fair vision in a gown of pure white satin and lace.
Sir Maurice turned. He raised his quizzing-glass the better to inspect his daughter-in-law.
"Upon my soul, Cleone!" he ejaculated.
Cleone swept him a curtsey, laughing.
"Is it not ridiculous? Philip insisted. Wait till you see him!" She ran to the mirror. "Do you like the way my hair is dressed, father?"
"I am struck dumb by the whole effect!" answered Sir Maurice. "Yes, I like that white rose in your hair."
"Oh, you must tell Philip that! He spent hours and hours trying to place it to his entire satisfaction! It has been terrible, je t'assure. Yes, I am beginning to acquire an accent, am I not? Philip nearly tore his beautiful wig1 in his anxiety!" She re-arranged the roses at her breast. "At one time I expected him to summon Fran?ois to his assistance. But he refrained, and here am I!"
Sir Maurice sat down.
"Has he—! For the past three hours, sir! He has driven my maid distracted." She started to count on her fingers. "He spent half an hour superintending my hair-dressing and another half an hour placing this rose and the pearls. Then half an hour went to my patches—this is when he nearly tore his wig!—he could not decide where to put them. The arrangement of my gown occupied quite an hour in all. And then he was much put out over my jewels." She held up her fingers. "I vow3 they are red and sore, sir! I have had rings pushed on them, and dragged off them, until I was nigh screaming with impatience4! But now I am dressed—and I have been told on pain of Philip's direst wrath5 to n'y toucher pas!" She sat down on the couch beside Sir Maurice and slipped her hand in his. "Is he not absurd? And oh, I am prodigious6 nervous!"
"Why, my dear? What should make you so?"
"You see, it is my first appearance in Paris—it is to be my first ball—and I am so afraid I shall not understand what is said to me, or—or something mortifying7!"
"Not understand? Nonsense, Clo! Why, you have talked hardly any English since you have been married."
"Ah, pardon, madame! Pardon, m'sieu'! Je cherche la tabatière de m'sieu' Philippe!"
"Laquelle?" asked Cleone. Sir Maurice was amused by her serious air. "The one with the pearls?"
"Mais oui, madame. It is this fool of a Jacques who has lost it, sans doute! Ah, la voilà!" He seized the errant box and skipped out again. Cleone breathed a sigh of relief.
"How terrible if it had been really lost!" she said.
Sir Maurice laughed.
"Would it have been so great a catastrophe11?"
"But of course! It matches his dress, you understand."
"I see." Sir Maurice smothered12 another laugh. "My dear, do you know that it is three years since last I was in this city of cities?"
"Is it? Don't you think it is a wonderful place? Philip took me for a walk yesterday, and I was enchanted13! And this house—I know I shall never bear to leave it! Philip says that the Hotel Cleone will be the most fashionable one in Paris! I was so surprised when he brought me here! I had no idea that there was a house waiting for me. He and Fran?ois got all ready the week before our marriage! I've never been so happy in my life! And to-night I am to see Philip in what he calls his milieu14. He tells me he was never at home in London."
"Philip in his milieu. Paris." Sir Maurice smiled down at her. "When I think of what Philip was not quite a year ago...."
"It seems impossible, doesn't it? But oh, I am glad now that I sent him away. He is quite, quite perfect!"
"H'm!" said Sir Maurice.
Cleone laughed at him.
"You pretend! I know how proud you are!"
"Minx! I confess I am curious to see Philip in his Parisian Society. No one knows that he is here?"
"Not a soul. He insisted on guarding the secret until he could make a really dramatic appearance at the Duchesse de Sauverin's ball to-night. He is mad, you know, quite mad! Oh, here he is!"
From head to foot his son was clad in white. The only splash of colour was the red heels of his shoes; his only jewels were pearls and diamonds; on the lapel of his coat he wore a single white rose.
"Isn't it ridiculous?" said Cleone. "But doesn't he look beautiful?"
"Stand up, child, and let me see you side by side.... Yes. What audacity! Had I known, I would have attired17 myself in black—the old man at the ball."
"'Twould have made an excellent foil," agreed Philip. "But no matter. Cleone, you have re-arranged your roses!"
"I cry your pardon, sir! Oh no, let me be!"
"One of them must kiss your skin, so! To show that it is no whiter than the skin. Voilà, c'est bien!"
"Who is likely to be at the ball to-night, Philip?" asked his father.
"We shall be late!" warned Cleone. "Oh, we are late now!"
"That is also de rigueur," said Philip.
There was a sudden hush22. All eyes turned to the late-comers. In the doorway23 stood a tall gentleman, at his side two dazzling visions in white.
Madame de Sauverin stared for a moment in wonderment. Then she hurried forward, hands outstretched.
"Philippe!"
"Philippe! Le petit Philippe!" A score of voices took up the cry. Nearly everyone there surged forward.
Philip kissed Madame's hand.
"Chère madame! I may present my wife? My father you know."
Cleone curtseyed low.
"Your—wife!" Madame took Cleone's hands. "Voyons, voyons, notre petit Philippe s'est éspousé! Et Maurice!"
Philip and Cleone were at the centre of a welcoming throng24. Cleone's hand was kissed a dozen times. Delighted questions were shot at Philip.
Saint-Dantin grasped his hand.
"Mon cher petit! You have returned at last? Et madame!" He bowed to the blushing Cleone. "There is no need to ask who is, madame." He smiled at her. "It is evident that her name is Cleone!"
De Vangrisse pressed forward.
"The mysterious Cleone! Madame, votre serviteur! We have all longed to see the lady who so consistently held Philip's heart!"
"Philippe, how long have you been in Paris?" demanded De Chatelin. "You are going to remain? Ah bon!"
"Philippe, have you an ode for the occasion?" asked another laughing voice.
Clothilde de Chaucheron pushed through the ring.
"Le petit Philippe au c?ur perdu!" she cried.
Philip disengaged himself from the clutches of Saint-Dantin and took his wife's hand.
"Mademoiselle de Chaucheron, chérie," he said, and bowed.
Clothilde gazed at Cleone for a moment. Then she swept a deep curtsey.
"Je me trompe," she said, smiling. "Le petit Philippe au c?ur trouvé."
The End
点击收听单词发音
1 wig | |
n.假发 | |
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2 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
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3 vow | |
n.誓(言),誓约;v.起誓,立誓 | |
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4 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
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5 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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6 prodigious | |
adj.惊人的,奇妙的;异常的;巨大的;庞大的 | |
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7 mortifying | |
adj.抑制的,苦修的v.使受辱( mortify的现在分词 );伤害(人的感情);克制;抑制(肉体、情感等) | |
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8 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
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9 darted | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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10 harassed | |
adj. 疲倦的,厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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11 catastrophe | |
n.大灾难,大祸 | |
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12 smothered | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
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13 enchanted | |
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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14 milieu | |
n.环境;出身背景;(个人所处的)社会环境 | |
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15 rustle | |
v.沙沙作响;偷盗(牛、马等);n.沙沙声声 | |
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16 audacity | |
n.大胆,卤莽,无礼 | |
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17 attired | |
adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服,使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18 warding | |
监护,守护(ward的现在分词形式) | |
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19 deft | |
adj.灵巧的,熟练的(a deft hand 能手) | |
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20 tout | |
v.推销,招徕;兜售;吹捧,劝诱 | |
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21 lackey | |
n.侍从;跟班 | |
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22 hush | |
int.嘘,别出声;n.沉默,静寂;v.使安静 | |
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23 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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24 throng | |
n.人群,群众;v.拥挤,群集 | |
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