The summer had gone quickly, most astonishingly quickly, he thought; and for the most part pleasantly—though it had been broken by certain interludes, not pleasant, during which he had been even more savage2 with himself than he had been during that walk homeward from Eutaw Castle in the dark. But, no matter how it had gone, the summer definitely was ended—and so were his amusing sessions with the[115] Major over the future of Minnesota Point, and his sails with Ulrica on the lake and about the bay. Ice already had begun to form in the sheltered parts of the harbour, and the next shift of wind into the North would close the port for the winter by freezing everything hard and fast. All the big ships had steamed away eastward3. On the previous day he had despatched the last vessel4 of his own line. His work for the season was over, and he was ready to return to Chicago. In fact, he had his berth5 engaged on that night's train. Moreover, in another month he was to be married: in her latest letter Miss Strangford had fixed6 the day. Then they were going over to the Riviera, and probably to Egypt. In the spring they were coming back again, but not to Duluth nor even to Chicago. He was to take charge of the Eastern office of the line, and their home would be in New York. These various moves were so definite and so final as to justify7 him in saying to himself, as he did say to himself, that the Duluth episode was closed.
He had hesitated about going down to Eutaw Castle to say good-bye, but in the end had perceived that the visit was a necessity. The Major and Ulrica knew that he was to leave[116] Duluth when navigation was closed for the winter—indeed, of late, Ulrica had referred to that fact frequently—but he had not confided8 to them the remainder of his rather radical9 programme. He meant to do that later by letter—from the Riviera or from Egypt. In the mean time, until he was married and across the Atlantic, it was essential to keep unbroken the friendly relations which had made his summer—even with its bad interludes—so keenly delightful10 to him; and to go away without paying a farewell visit he knew would be to risk a rupture11 that very easily might lead on to a catastrophe12. Moreover, as he said to himself, there need not be anything final about it. Even though the harbour did freeze, the railways remained open—and it was only sixteen hours from Chicago to Duluth by the fast train. To suggest that he might be running up again soon would be a very simple matter: and would not be straining the truth, for he knew that the pull upon him to run up in just that way would be almost irresistibly13 strong.
In fact, the pull was of such strength that all of his not excessive will power had to be exerted to make him go away at all—at least, to go away alone. Very many times he had thought of the[117] possibility of reversing his programme completely: of making his wedding journey with Ulrica, and of writing from some far-off place to Miss Strangford that he had happened to marry somebody else and that she was free. But each time that he had considered this alternative he had realized that its cost would come too high: a break with his own people, the loss of the good berth open to him in New York, the loss of his share of Miss Strangford's share of the grain-elevators and other desirable properties which would come to her when her father died. But for these practical considerations, as he frequently and sorrowingly had assured himself, he would not have hesitated for a moment—being satisfied that, aside from them, such a reversal of his plans would be better in every way. For he knew that while Miss Strangford had and Ulrica had not his formal promise to marry her, it was Ulrica who had the firmer hold upon his heart; and he also knew that while Ulrica would meet his decision against her savagely—and, as he believed, feebly—with her passion, Miss Strangford would meet the reverse of that decision calmly and firmly with her strength. The dilemma14 so nearly touched the verge15 of his en[118]durance that he even had contemplated16 evading17 it altogether by shooting himself. But he had not got beyond contemplation. For that sort of thing he was lacking in nerve.
It was because facing what he knew was a final parting—even though Ulrica would not know it—would be so bitter hard for him that he had hesitated about making his visit of good-bye. But when he had decided that it was a necessity—that the risk involved in not making it outweighed18 the pain that it would cost him—he came about again: adding to his argument, almost with a sob19, that he could not go away like that, anyhow—that he must see her once more!
And so he went down the Point again, knowing that he went for the last time—and on much the same sort of a day, as it happened, as that on which his first visit had been made: a grey, chill day, with a strong wind drawing down the lake that tufted it with white-caps and that sent a heavy surf booming in upon the shore. He had no headache, but he had a heartache that was still harder to bear.
He had intended to take the tram-car—that he might hurry down to the Castle, and get through with what he had to do there, and so away again quickly. But when he had crossed[119] the canal he let the car go off without him—for the good reason that the meeting and the parting might not come so soon. And for this same reason he walked slowly, irresolutely20. Once or twice he halted and almost turned back. It all was very unlike his brisk, assured advance on that far back day—ages before, it seemed to him—when he went down the Point for the first time.
As he went onward21, slowly, he was thinking about that day: how it had been without intention that he turned eastward instead of westward22 when he started on his walk; how a whim23 of the moment had led him to cross the canal; how the mere24 chance of the three church-bound women hurrying into the ferry-boat had prevented his immediate25 return. He fell to wondering, dully, what "chance" is, anyway—this force which with a grim humour uses our most unconsidered actions for the making or the unmaking of our lives; and the hopeless puzzle of it all kept his mind unprofitably employed until he had passed the last of the little houses, and had gone on through the stunted26 pines, and so was come to the desolate27 graveyard28.
He did not shun29 the graveyard, as he had shunned30 it all the summer long. The need for that was past—now that, in reality, Ulrica's[120] name had come to be to him a name upon a grave. For a while he stood with his arms resting on the broken fence, looking before him in a dull way and feeling a dull surprise because he found the dismal31 place still precisely32 as he remembered it. That in so very long a time it should not have become more ruinous seemed to him unreasonable33. Then he walked on past the little church, still slowly and hesitatingly, and so came at last to the Castle. Oddly enough, the Major was standing34 again at the same lower window, and saw him, and came out to welcome him. For a moment he had a queer feeling that perhaps it still was that first day—that he might have been dozing35 in the pine woods, somewhere, and that the past summer was all a dream.
The Major was beaming with friendliness36. "Aha, Masteh Geo'ge, I'm glad to see yo' and to congratulate yo'!" he said heartily37. And he gave Maltham a cordial dig in the ribs38 as he added: "Yo' ah a sly dog, a vehy sly dog, my boy, to keep youah secret from us! But I happened to be up in town yestehday, and by the mehest chance I met Captain Todd, of youah boat, and he told me why yo' ah going back to Chicago in such a huhy, suh! It is a great match, a magnificent match that yo' ah mak[121]ing, Geo'ge, and I congratulate yo' with all my haht. I should be glad of the oppo'tunity to congratulate Miss Strangfo'd also. Fo' I am not flattehing yo', Geo'ge, when I tell yo' that she could not have found a betteh husband had she gone to look fo' him in South Cahrolina. Suh, I can say no mo' than that!"
The Major's speech was long enough, fortunately, for Maltham to get over the shock of its beginning before he had to answer it. But even with that breathing space his answer was so lame39 that the Major had to invent an excuse for its lack of heartiness40. "I don't doubt that afteh youah chilly41 walk, Geo'ge, yo' ah half frozen," he said. "Come right in and have a drink. It will do yo' good, suh. It will take the chill out of youah bones!"
Maltham was glad to accept this invitation, and the size of the drink that he took did the Major's heart good. "That's right, Geo'ge!" he said with great approval. "A South-Cahrolinian couldn't show a betteh appreciation42 of good liquoh than that!" He raised his glass and continued: "I drink, suh, to Miss Strangfo'd's health, and to youahs. May yo' both have the long lives of happiness that yo' both desehve!"
[122] He put down his empty glass and added: "I will call Ulrica. She will be glad to see yo' and to offeh yo' heh congratulations." He paused for a moment, and then went on in a less cheerful tone: "But I must wahn yo', Geo'ge, that she has a bad headache and is not quite hehself to-day—and so may not manifest that wahm co'diality in regahd to youah present and futuah happiness that she suahly feels. I confess, Geo'ge," the Major continued anxiously, "I am not quite comfo'table about heh. She seems mo' out of so'ts than a meah headache ought to make heh. And fo' the last month and mo', as yo' may have obsehved youahself, she has not seemed to be hehself at all. I don't mind speaking this way frankly43 to yo', Geo'ge, fo' yo' know how my haht is wrapped up in heh. As I once told yo', it was only my love fo' that deah child that kept me alive when heh motheh left me," the Major's voice was very unsteady, "and it is God's own truth that if anything went wrong with heh; if—if I weh to lose heh too, Geo'ge, I suahly should want to give right up and die. I could not live without heh—I don't think that I could live without heh fo' a single day!"
There were tears in the Major's eyes as he[123] spoke44, and his last word was almost a sob. Maltham was very pale. He did not attempt an answer.
"Thank yo', Geo'ge," the Major went on presently. "I see by youah looks that I have youah sympathy. I am most grateful to yo' fo' it, most grateful indeed!" In a moment he added: "Hahk! She's coming now! I heah heh step outside. Hahk how heavy and slow it is—and she always as light on heh feet as a bird! To heah heh walk that way almost breaks my haht!" And then he checked himself suddenly, and tried to look rather unusually cheerful as Ulrica entered the room.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
eastward
|
|
| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
berth
|
|
| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
justify
|
|
| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
confided
|
|
| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
radical
|
|
| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
rupture
|
|
| n.破裂；(关系的)决裂；v.(使)破裂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
catastrophe
|
|
| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
irresistibly
|
|
| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
dilemma
|
|
| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
contemplated
|
|
| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
evading
|
|
| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
outweighed
|
|
| v.在重量上超过( outweigh的过去式和过去分词 )；在重要性或价值方面超过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
sob
|
|
| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
irresolutely
|
|
| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
westward
|
|
| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
whim
|
|
| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
stunted
|
|
| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
graveyard
|
|
| n.坟场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
shun
|
|
| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
shunned
|
|
| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
dismal
|
|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
unreasonable
|
|
| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
dozing
|
|
| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
friendliness
|
|
| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
ribs
|
|
| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
lame
|
|
| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
heartiness
|
|
| 诚实，热心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
appreciation
|
|
| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
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： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |