While Lynde is enjoying the refreshing1 sleep that easily overtook him after supper, we will reveal to the reader so much of the young man's private history as may be necessary to the narrative2. In order to do this, the author, like Deacon Twombly's mare3, feels it indispensable to back a little.
One morning, about three years previous to the day when Edward Lynde set forth4 on his aimless pilgrimage, Mr. Jenness Bowlsby, the president of the Nautilus Bank at Rivermouth, received the following letter from his wife's nephew, Mr. John Flemming, a young merchant in New York--
NEW YORK, May 28,1869.
MY DEAR UNCLE: In the course of a few days a friend of mine, Mr. Edward Lynde of this city, will call upon you and hand you a note of introduction from myself. I write this to secure for him in advance the liking6 and interest which I am persuaded you will not be able to withhold7 on closer acquaintance. I have been intimate with Edward Lynde for twelve years or more, first at the boarding-school at Flatbush, and afterwards at college. Though several years my junior, he was in the same classes with me, and, if the truth must be told, generally carried off all the honors. He is not only the most accomplished8 young fellow I know, but a fellow of inexhaustible modesty9 and amiability10, and I think it was singularly malicious11 of destiny to pick him out as a victim, when there are so many worthless young men (the name of John Flemming will instantly occur to you) who deserve nothing better than rough treatment. You see, I am taking point-blank aim at your sympathy.
When Lynde was seven or eight years old he had the misfortune to lose his mother; his father was already dead. The child's nearest relative was an uncle, David Lynde, a rich merchant of New York, a bachelor, and a character. Old Lynde--I call him old Lynde not out of disrespect, but to distinguish him from young Lynde--was at that period in his sixtieth year, a gentleman of unsullied commercial reputation, and of regular if somewhat peculiar12 habits. He was at his counting-room precisely13 at eight in the morning, and was the last to leave in the evening, working as many hours each day as he had done in those first years when he entered as office-boy into the employment of Briggs & Livingstone--the firm at the time of which I am now writing was Lynde, Livingstone & Co. Mr. David Lynde lived in a set of chambers14 up town, and dined at his club, where he usually passed the evenings at chess with some brother antediluvian15. A visit to the theatre, when some old English comedy or some new English ballet happened to be on the boards, was the periphery16 of his dissipation. What is called society saw nothing of him. He was a rough, breezy, thickset old gentleman, betrothed17 from his birth to apoplexy, enjoying life in his own secluded18 manner, and insisting on having everybody about him happy. He would strangle an old friend rather than not have him happy. A characteristic story is told of a quarrel he had with a chum of thirty or forty years' standing19, Ripley Sturdevant Sen. Sturdevant came to grief in the financial panic of 1857. Lynde held a mortgage on Sturdevant's house, and insisted on cancelling it. Sturdevant refused to accept the sacrifice. They both were fiery20 old gentlemen, arcades21 ambo. High words ensued. What happened never definitely transpired22; but Sturdevant was found lying across the office lounge, with a slight bruise23 over one eyebrow24 and the torn mortgage thrust into his shirt-bosom. It was conjectured25 that Lynde had actually knocked him down and forced the cancelled mortgage upon him!
In short, David Lynde was warm-hearted and generous to the verge26 of violence, but a man in every way unfitted by temperament27, experience, and mode of life to undertake the guardianship29 of a child. To have an infant dropped into his arms was as excellent an imitation of a calamity30 as could well happen to him. I am told that no one could have been more sensible of this than David Lynde himself, and that there was something extremely touching31 in the alacrity32 and cheerfulness with which he assumed the novel responsibility.
Immediately after the funeral--Mrs. Lynde had resided in Philadelphia-- the uncle brought the boy to New York. It was impossible to make a permanent home for young Lynde in bachelor chambers, or to dine him at the club. After a week of inconvenience and wretchedness, complicated by the sinister33 suspicions of his landlady34, David Lynde concluded to send the orphan35 to boarding-school.
It was at Flatbush, Long Island, that I made the acquaintance of the forlorn little fellow. His cot was next to mine in the dormitory; we became close friends. We passed our examinations, left Flatbush at the same time, and entered college together. In the meanwhile the boy's relations with his guardian28 were limited to a weekly exchange of letters, those of the uncle invariably beginning with "Yours of Saturday duly at hand," and ending with "Enclosed please find." In respect to pocket-money young Lynde was a prince. My friend spent the long vacations with me at Newburgh, running down to New York occasionally to pass a day or so with the uncle. In these visits their intimacy36 ripened37. Old Lynde was now become very proud of his bright young charge, giving him astonishing dinners at Delmonico's, taking him to Wallack's, and introducing him to the old fossils at the club as "my boy Ned."
It was at the beginning of Lynde's last term at college that his uncle retired38 from business, bought a house in Madison Avenue, and turned it into a sort of palace with frescoes39 and upholstery. There was a library for my boy Ned, a smoking-room in cherry-wood, a billiard-room in black walnut40, a dining-room in oak and crimson--in brief, the beau-ideal of a den5 for a couple of bachelors. By Jove! it was like a club-house--the only model for a home of which poor old Lynde had any conception. Six months before Ned was graduated, the establishment was in systematic41 running order under the supervision42 of the pearl of housekeepers44. Here David Lynde proposed to spend the rest of his days with his nephew, who might, for form's sake, adopt some genteel profession; if not, well and good, the boy would have money.
Now just as Ned was carrying off the first prizes in Greek and mathematics, and dreaming of the pleasant life he was to lead with his amiable45 old benefactor46, what does that amiable old benefactor go and do but marry the housekeeper43!
David Lynde knew very little of women: he had not spoken to above a dozen in his whole life; did not like them, in fact; had a mild sort of contempt for them, as persons devoid47 of business ability. It was in the course of nature that the first woman who thought it worth her while should twist him around her finger like a remnant of ribbon. When Ned came out of college he found himself in the arms of an unlooked-for aunt who naturally hated him at sight.
I have not the time or space, my dear uncle, to give you even a catalogue of the miseries48 that followed on the heels of this deplorable marriage; besides, you can imagine them. Old Lynde, loving both his wife and his nephew, was by turns violent and feeble; the wife cool, cunning, and insidious--a Vivien of forty leading Merlin by the beard. I am not prepared to contend that the nephew was always in the right, but I know he always got the worst of it, which amounts to about the same thing. At the end of eight or ten months he saw that the position was untenable, packed his trunk one night, and quitted the MENAGE--the menagerie, as he calls it.
This was three weeks ago. Having a small property of his own, some fifteen hundred dollars a year, I believe, Lynde at first thought to go abroad. It was always his dream to go abroad. But I persuaded him out of that, seeing how perilous49 it would be for a young fellow of his inexperience and impressible disposition50 to go rambling51 alone over the Continent. Paris was his idea. Paris would not make a mouthful of him. I have talked him out of that, I repeat, and have succeeded in convincing him that the wisest course for him to pursue is to go to some pleasant town or village within hailing distance of one of our larger cities, and spend the summer quietly. I even suggested he should make the personal acquaintance of some light employment, to help him forget the gorgeous castle of cards which has just tumbled down about his ears. In six words, I have sent him to Rivermouth.
Now, my dear uncle, I have wasted eight pages of paper and probably a hundred dollars' worth of your time, if you do not see that I am begging you to find a position for Lynde in the Nautilus Bank. After a little practice he would make a skilful52 accountant, and the question of salary is, as you see, of secondary importance. Manage to retain him at Rivermouth if you possibly can. David Lynde has the strongest affection for the lad, and if Vivien, whose name is Elizabeth, is not careful how she drags Merlin around by the beard, he will reassert himself in some unexpected manner. If he were to serve her as he is supposed to have served old Sturdevant, his conduct would be charitably criticised. If he lives a year he will be in a frame of mind to leave the bulk of his fortune to Ned. THEY have not quarrelled, you understand; on the contrary, Mr. Lynde was anxious to settle an allowance of five thousand a year on Ned, but Ned would not accept it. "I want uncle David's love," says Ned, "and I have it; the devil take his money."
Here you have all the points. I could not state them more succinctly53 and do justice to each of the parties interested. The most unfortunate party, I take it, is David Lynde. I am not sure, after all, that young Lynde is so much to be pitied. Perhaps that club-house would not have worked well for him if it had worked differently. At any rate he now has his own way to make, and I commend him to your kindness, if I have not exhausted54 it.
Your affectionate nephew, J. FLEMMING.
Five or six days after this letter reached Mr. Bowlsby, Mr. Edward Lynde presented himself in the directors' room of the Nautilus Bank. The young man's bearing confirmed the favorable impression which Mr. Bowlsby had derived55 from his nephew's letter, and though there was really no vacancy56 in the bank at the moment, Mr. Bowlsby lent himself to the illusion that he required a private secretary. A few weeks later a vacancy occurred unexpectedly, that of paying-teller--a position in which Lynde acquitted57 himself with so much quickness and accuracy, that when Mr. Trefethen, the assistant cashier, died in the December following, Lynde was promoted to his desk.
The unruffled existence into which Edward Lynde had drifted was almost the reverse of the career he had mapped out for himself, and it was a matter of mild astonishment58 to him at intervals59 that he was not discontented. He thought Rivermouth one of the most charming old spots he had ever seen or heard of, and the people the most hospitable60. The story of his little family jar, taking deeper colors and richer ornamentation as it passed from hand to hand, made him at once a social success. Mr. Goldstone, one of the leading directors of the bank, invited Lynde to dinner--few persons were ever overburdened with invitations to dine at the Goldstones'--and the door of many a refined home turned willingly on its hinges for the young man. At the evening parties, that winter, Edward Lynde was considered almost as good a card as a naval61 officer. Miss Mildred Bowlsby, then the reigning62 belle63, was ready to flirt64 with him to the brink65 of the Episcopal marriage service, and beyond; but the phenomenal honeymoon66 which had recently quartered in Lynde's family left him indisposed to take any lunar observations on his own account.
With his salary as cashier, Lynde's income was Vanderbiltish for a young man in Rivermouth. Unlike his great contemporary, he did not let it accumulate. Once a month he wrote a dutiful letter to his uncle David, who never failed to answer by telegraph, "Yours received. God bless you, Edward." This whimsical fashion of reply puzzled young Lynde quite as much as it diverted him until he learned (through his friend, John Flemming) that his aunt Vivien had extorted67 from the old gentleman a solemn promise not to write to his nephew.
Lynde's duties at the bank left him free every afternoon at four o'clock; his work and his leisure were equally pleasant. In summer he kept a sail-boat on the river, and in winter he had the range of a rich collection of books connected with an antiquated68 public reading-room. Thus very happily, if very quietly, and almost imperceptibly the months rolled round to that period when the Nautilus Bank gave Edward Lynde a three weeks' vacation, and he set forth, as we have seen, on Deacon Twombly's mare, in search of the picturesque69 and the peculiar, if they were to be found in the northern part of New Hampshire.
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1 refreshing | |
adj.使精神振作的,使人清爽的,使人喜欢的 | |
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2 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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3 mare | |
n.母马,母驴 | |
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4 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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5 den | |
n.兽穴;秘密地方;安静的小房间,私室 | |
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6 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
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7 withhold | |
v.拒绝,不给;使停止,阻挡 | |
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8 accomplished | |
adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
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9 modesty | |
n.谦逊,虚心,端庄,稳重,羞怯,朴素 | |
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10 amiability | |
n.和蔼可亲的,亲切的,友善的 | |
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11 malicious | |
adj.有恶意的,心怀恶意的 | |
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12 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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13 precisely | |
adv.恰好,正好,精确地,细致地 | |
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14 chambers | |
n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
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15 antediluvian | |
adj.史前的,陈旧的 | |
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16 periphery | |
n.(圆体的)外面;周围 | |
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17 betrothed | |
n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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18 secluded | |
adj.与世隔绝的;隐退的;偏僻的v.使隔开,使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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19 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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20 fiery | |
adj.燃烧着的,火红的;暴躁的;激烈的 | |
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21 arcades | |
n.商场( arcade的名词复数 );拱形走道(两旁有商店或娱乐设施);连拱廊;拱形建筑物 | |
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22 transpired | |
(事实,秘密等)被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 ); 泄露; 显露; 发生 | |
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23 bruise | |
n.青肿,挫伤;伤痕;vt.打青;挫伤 | |
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24 eyebrow | |
n.眉毛,眉 | |
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25 conjectured | |
推测,猜测,猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26 verge | |
n.边,边缘;v.接近,濒临 | |
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27 temperament | |
n.气质,性格,性情 | |
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28 guardian | |
n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
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29 guardianship | |
n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
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30 calamity | |
n.灾害,祸患,不幸事件 | |
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31 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
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32 alacrity | |
n.敏捷,轻快,乐意 | |
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33 sinister | |
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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34 landlady | |
n.女房东,女地主 | |
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35 orphan | |
n.孤儿;adj.无父母的 | |
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36 intimacy | |
n.熟悉,亲密,密切关系,亲昵的言行 | |
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37 ripened | |
v.成熟,使熟( ripen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38 retired | |
adj.隐退的,退休的,退役的 | |
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39 frescoes | |
n.壁画( fresco的名词复数 );温壁画技法,湿壁画 | |
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40 walnut | |
n.胡桃,胡桃木,胡桃色,茶色 | |
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41 systematic | |
adj.有系统的,有计划的,有方法的 | |
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42 supervision | |
n.监督,管理 | |
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43 housekeeper | |
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
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44 housekeepers | |
n.(女)管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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45 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
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46 benefactor | |
n. 恩人,行善的人,捐助人 | |
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47 devoid | |
adj.全无的,缺乏的 | |
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48 miseries | |
n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 );痛苦的事;穷困;常发牢骚的人 | |
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49 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
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50 disposition | |
n.性情,性格;意向,倾向;排列,部署 | |
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51 rambling | |
adj.[建]凌乱的,杂乱的 | |
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52 skilful | |
(=skillful)adj.灵巧的,熟练的 | |
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53 succinctly | |
adv.简洁地;简洁地,简便地 | |
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54 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
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55 derived | |
vi.起源;由来;衍生;导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
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56 vacancy | |
n.(旅馆的)空位,空房,(职务的)空缺 | |
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57 acquitted | |
宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 ); 使(自己)作出某种表现 | |
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58 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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59 intervals | |
n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 );间隔时间;[数学]区间;(戏剧、电影或音乐会的)幕间休息 | |
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60 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
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61 naval | |
adj.海军的,军舰的,船的 | |
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62 reigning | |
adj.统治的,起支配作用的 | |
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63 belle | |
n.靓女 | |
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64 flirt | |
v.调情,挑逗,调戏;n.调情者,卖俏者 | |
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65 brink | |
n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘,边沿 | |
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66 honeymoon | |
n.蜜月(假期);vi.度蜜月 | |
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67 extorted | |
v.敲诈( extort的过去式和过去分词 );曲解 | |
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68 antiquated | |
adj.陈旧的,过时的 | |
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69 picturesque | |
adj.美丽如画的,(语言)生动的,绘声绘色的 | |
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