Though she and Miss Osric had been up since seven o’clock, the day had seemed all too short for everything she wanted to crowd into it.
“No one should do the flowers but herself,” she declared, and Mackintosh groaned2 over the ravages3 she made in “his conservatories4” and “his gardens.” But Miss Lisle was a privileged person in his eyes, so his groans5 were only inward, and he actually went so far as to walk round the conservatories with her, cutting what she wanted, with the face of a martyr6 at the stake!
“Not that I grudge7 flowers in reason to her ladyship,” he explained, “but what’s to
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become of my flower-show next month, miss, I ask you?”
“Indeed, I won’t take all your flowers,” said Sydney; “but surely, Mackintosh, you want the Castle to be gay as much as I do when Lord St. Quentin is bringing home his bride at last!”
“Well, miss, I’ll not say but that I do rejoice with all my heart,” the old man said. “And a fine upstanding ladyship we shall have, says I! I mind her well enough when she come here first with the Dean, and looked at my flowers for all the world as if they were Christians9, and understood what she said to ’em. ‘Oh, you beauties! you lovely things!’ she cried as she comes into the conservatories, as his lordship he was showing to her. No, miss, I don’t grudge my flowers, in reason—not to you or to her ladyship!”
The wedding had taken place very quietly a fortnight ago. Both Katharine and St. Quentin felt that they had waited long enough for the happiness that had so nearly never come at all. They were married early one morning, in one of the little side chapels10 of the great cathedral, by Katharine’s white-haired father, with only Sydney and the little cousin Sylvia present, and old Dr. Lorry,
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who insisted upon coming, to see how his patient got through the ceremony. There were so few relations upon either side to come, even if the health of the bridegroom had been fit for anything but the quietest of weddings. St. Quentin asked Lady Frederica to be present from a sense of duty, but was neither surprised nor disappointed when she wrote to explain it was impossible to expect her to attend a wedding which was fixed11 for so unconscionably early an hour, but she sent her best wishes to them both. She also sent a handsome wedding present, for which the bill came in afterwards to St. Quentin. So there were only those few there to hear the words that made Katharine and St. Quentin man and wife at last. The honeymoon12 had been passed in a health-giving cruise on the Mediterranean13, and now they were to come home.
Lady Frederica had never returned to the Castle after St. Quentin’s operation, and it cannot be said that her nephew missed her. He invited Mrs. Chichester to come and stay with Sydney during the period of his convalescence14, and inwardly determined15, as he saw the delight with which the girl showed all her favourite haunts to “mother,” that she should
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have at least the female portion of the house of Chichester to stay with her as often as she liked. In fact, Katharine had already expressed her intention of being great friends with them all.
But Mrs. Chichester had gone back to London now, and for the fortnight of the honeymoon Miss Osric and Sydney had been alone, and had certainly made good use of their time in the business of arranging a welcome for St. Quentin and his bride.
The Castle was ablaze16 with flowers and the air ablaze with sunshine, as Sydney, her labours finished, but too excited to sit still and wait, went dancing onward17 through the Park and out into the village, where the hedges were fast breaking into the bridal white of hawthorn18 blossom. Miss Osric, as soon as all the work was finished, had discreetly19 betaken herself to the Vicarage, leaving the girl to welcome Katharine and her cousin alone.
It was four o’clock: they would hardly be here for another quarter of an hour, Sydney thought to herself, and she slackened her pace and looked upward at the gorgeous decorations with which the little village was aflame.
The children were all drawn20 up in a body
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on the village green, under the charge of the schoolmistress, and armed with little, tight, hard bunches of flowers, to cast before the happy pair. Most of the tenantry, the farmers on horseback, were waiting at the top of the village at the turning on the Dacreshaw road. Some few of the women, however, were remaining quietly at the cottage doors, satisfied without that first view of the bride and bridegroom which the others seemed to think so desirable.
Among the number of these last was Mrs. Sawyer, who, with a healthy colour in the face that used to look so sickly, was standing8 smiling at the neat white gate of her new cottage.
Sydney paused to shake hands with her and ask if everything in the new cottage were entirely21 satisfactory.
“Why, that it is, miss,” was the hearty22 response, “if it weren’t for just a little leakage23 in the boiler24. But there, miss, I’ve no call to complain, for indeed I scarcely know myself with my beautiful tiled kitchen, as is almost too good to use, and my back-kitchen as is fit for duchesses to work in, and all the rest as ’is lordship ’as done for me. Reckon that there boiler is my crumpled25 rose-leaf, miss!”
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Mrs. Sawyer was so serious that Sydney felt it would not do to laugh, though the description of the large black boiler as “a rose-leaf” made the corners of the mouth twitch26 ominously27.
She volunteered to come and look at it, and was bending down to examine the defective28 tap, when a roar of distant cheering made both forget the leaking boiler and rush wildly to the door. “They are coming!”
Round the bend in the road, under the great arch wreathed with flowers and bearing the inscription29, “Welcome to the bride and bridegroom,” bowled the carriage. There they were!
St. Quentin, still very thin, but upright, hat in hand, smiling and nodding to his tenants30 as they roared their welcome, and by his side Katharine, fair and stately, unchanged, except that the sadness had passed from her eyes.
Sydney ran forward, and the carriage stopped.
“Hullo! what are you doing wandering about alone?” St. Quentin asked, laughing, when they had exchanged greetings. “Lucky for you Aunt Rica isn’t here! What is it?”
“I am trying to make out what is wrong with Mrs. Sawyer’s boiler,” she explained; “it leaks.”
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The marquess said something in a low tone to his wife, jumped down, handed her from the carriage, and turned to Greaves, wooden with surprise upon the box, at this extraordinary conduct on the part of the bride and bridegroom.
“Drive on, Greaves; we’ll walk up presently. Now, Mrs. Sawyer, let’s have a look at the boiler.”
“You could have knocked me down with a feather!” Mrs. Sawyer was wont31 to say when dilating32 on the story afterwards. “For in they all come, as sure as I’m a living woman! and down goes his lordship on his knees, as interested in that boiler as if it was a newspaper full of the quarrellings of that there silly Parliament, and turns the tap about, and then jumps up and looks about to see if the workmen had left any putty, and as pleased as may be when he finds it, and down on his knees again—and thankful I was as I’d scrubbed the floor only that morning—and makes as neat a job of it as may be, just to last till the plumber33 comes to do it proper, he says; and full of jokes all the time he was, as made me laugh till I cried nearly!
“And her ladyship sitting by, in my best chair, and nursing Liza’s baby, as though she
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fair loved to have it on her knee; and our young lady, bless her! looking as bright and happy as though her world was just made of spring and sunshine, as I hopes it may be!
“And his lordship made a rare good job of the boiler too,” she would add, as though anybody had presumed to doubt his powers as a plumber, “and washed his hands in the back kitchen when he finished, and dried ’em on the round towel, not a bit proud, and when he knocks his ’ead against the lintel going out, he laughs again, and says, says he—‘Fane must make my tenants’ doors a little higher,’ says he, ‘for I mean there to be room for me to come in,’ he says.”
The three walked together through the Park with the late afternoon sunshine glittering on the glory of fresh green beneath and overhead, and up the marble steps to the splendid castle towering above them.
As they reached the top, St. Quentin raised his hat, and took a hand of each.
“Welcome home!” he said.
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 groaned | |
v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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3 ravages | |
劫掠后的残迹,破坏的结果,毁坏后的残迹 | |
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4 conservatories | |
n.(培植植物的)温室,暖房( conservatory的名词复数 ) | |
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5 groans | |
n.呻吟,叹息( groan的名词复数 );呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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6 martyr | |
n.烈士,殉难者;vt.杀害,折磨,牺牲 | |
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7 grudge | |
n.不满,怨恨,妒嫉;vt.勉强给,不情愿做 | |
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8 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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9 Christians | |
n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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10 chapels | |
n.小教堂, (医院、监狱等的)附属礼拜堂( chapel的名词复数 );(在小教堂和附属礼拜堂举行的)礼拜仪式 | |
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11 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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12 honeymoon | |
n.蜜月(假期);vi.度蜜月 | |
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13 Mediterranean | |
adj.地中海的;地中海沿岸的 | |
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14 convalescence | |
n.病后康复期 | |
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15 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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16 ablaze | |
adj.着火的,燃烧的;闪耀的,灯火辉煌的 | |
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17 onward | |
adj.向前的,前进的;adv.向前,前进,在先 | |
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18 hawthorn | |
山楂 | |
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19 discreetly | |
ad.(言行)审慎地,慎重地 | |
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20 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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21 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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22 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
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23 leakage | |
n.漏,泄漏;泄漏物;漏出量 | |
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24 boiler | |
n.锅炉;煮器(壶,锅等) | |
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25 crumpled | |
adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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26 twitch | |
v.急拉,抽动,痉挛,抽搐;n.扯,阵痛,痉挛 | |
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27 ominously | |
adv.恶兆地,不吉利地;预示地 | |
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28 defective | |
adj.有毛病的,有问题的,有瑕疵的 | |
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29 inscription | |
n.(尤指石块上的)刻印文字,铭文,碑文 | |
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30 tenants | |
n.房客( tenant的名词复数 );佃户;占用者;占有者 | |
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31 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
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32 dilating | |
v.(使某物)扩大,膨胀,张大( dilate的现在分词 ) | |
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33 plumber | |
n.(装修水管的)管子工 | |
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