At seven-thirty, her cheeks glowing and her high-piled hair gleaming with a suspicion of brilliantine, Evylyn descended1 the stairs. Mrs. Ahearn, a little woman concealing2 a slight nervousness under red hair and an extreme Empire gown, greeted her volubly. Evelyn disliked her on the spot, but the husband she rather approved of. He had keen blue eyes and a natural gift of pleasing people that might have made him, socially, had he not so obviously committed the blunder of marrying too early in his career.
“I’m glad to know Piper’s wife,” he said simply. “It looks as though your husband and I are going to see a lot of each other in the future.”
She bowed, smiled graciously, and turned to greet the others: Milton Piper, Harold’s quiet, unassertive younger brother; the two Lowries, Jessie and Tom; Irene, her own unmarried sister; and finally Joe Ambler4, a confirmed bachelor and Irene’s perennial5 beau.
Harold led the way into dinner.
“We’re having a punch evening,” he announced jovially6 — Evylyn saw that he had already sampled his concoction7 —“so there won’t be any cocktails8 except the punch. It’s m’ wife’s greatest achievement, Mrs. Ahearn; she’ll give you the recipe if you want it; but owing to a slight”— he caught his wife’s eye and paused —“to a slight indisposition; I’m responsible for this batch9. Here’s how!”
All through dinner there was punch, and Evylyn, noticing that Ahearn and Milton Piper and all the women were shaking their heads negatively at the maid, knew she bad been right about the bowl; it was still half full. She resolved to caution Harold directly afterward10, but when the women left the table Mrs. Ahearn cornered her, and she found herself talking cities and dressmakers with a polite show of interest.
“We’ve moved around a lot,” chattered11 Mrs. Ahearn, her red head nodding violently. “Oh, yes, we’ve never stayed so long in a town before — but I do hope we’re here for good. I like it here; don’t you?”
“Well, you see, I’ve always lived here, so, naturally ——”
“Oh, that’s true,” said Mrs. Ahearn and laughed. Clarence always used to tell me he had to have a wife he could come home to and say: “Well, we’re going to Chicago to-morrow to live, so pack up.”
I got so I never expected to live ANYwhere.” She laughed her little laugh again; Evylyn suspected that it was her society laugh.
“Your husband is a very able man, I imagine.”
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Ahearn assured her eagerly. “He’s brainy, Clarence is. Ideas and enthusiasm, you know. Finds out what he wants and then goes and gets it.”
Evylyn nodded. She was wondering if the men were still drinking punch back in the dining-room. Mrs. Ahearn’s history kept unfolding jerkily, but Evylyn had ceased to listen. The first odor of massed cigars began to drift in. It wasn’t really a large house, she reflected; on an evening like this the library sometimes grew blue with smoke, and next day one had to leave the windows open for hours to air the heavy staleness out of the curtains. Perhaps this partnership12 might . . . she began to speculate on a new house . . .
Mrs. Ahearn’s voice drifted in on her:
“I really would like the recipe if you have it written down somewhere ——”
Then there was a sound of chairs in the dining-room and the men strolled in. Evylyn saw at once that her worst fears were realized. Harold’s face was flushed and his words ran together at the ends of sentences, while Tom Lowrie lurched when he walked and narrowly missed Irene’s lap when he tried to sink onto the couch beside her. He sat there blinking dazedly14 at the company. Evylyn found herself blinking back at him, but she saw no humor in it. Joe Ambler was smiling contentedly15 and purring on his cigar. Only Ahearn and Milton Piper seemed unaffected.
“It’s a pretty fine town, Ahearn,” said Ambler, “you’ll find that.”
“I’ve found it so,” said Ahearn pleasantly.
“You find it more, Ahearn,” said Harold, nodding emphatically “‘f I’ve an’thin’ do ‘th it.”
He soared into a eulogy16 of the city, and Evylyn wondered uncomfortably if it bored every one as it bored her. Apparently17 not. They were all listening attentively18. Evylyn broke in at the first gap.
“Where’ve you been living, Mr. Ahearn?” she asked interestedly. Then she remembered that Mrs. Ahearn had told her, but it didn’t matter. Harold mustn’t talk so much. He was such an ASS3 when he’d been drinking. But he plopped directly back in.
“Tell you, Ahearn. Firs’ you wanna get a house up here on the hill. Get Stearne house or Ridgeway house. Wanna have it so people say: ‘There’s Ahearn house.’ Solid, you know, tha’s effec’ it gives.”
Evylyn flushed. This didn’t sound right at all. Still Ahearn didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, only nodded gravely.
“Have you been looking ——” But her words trailed off unheard as Harold’s voice boomed on.
“Get house — tha’s start. Then you get know people. Snobbish19 town first toward outsider, but not long — after know you. People like you”— he indicated Ahearn and his wife with a sweeping20 gesture —“all right. Cordial as an’thin’ once get by first barrer-bar — barrer —” He swallowed, and then said “barrier,” repeated it masterfully.
Evylyn looked appealingly at her brother-in-law, but before he could intercede21 a thick mumble22 had come crowding out of Tom Lowrie, hindered by the dead cigar which he gripped firmly with his teeth.
“Huma uma ho huma ahdy um ——”
“What?” demanded Harold earnestly.
Resignedly and with difficulty Tom removed the cigar — that is, he removed part of it, and then blew the remainder with a WHUT sound across the room, where it landed liquidly and limply in Mrs. Ahearn’s lap.
“Beg pardon,” he mumbled23, and rose with the vague intention of going after it. Milton’s hand on his coat collapsed24 him in time, and Mrs. Ahearn not ungracefully flounced the tobacco from her skirt to the floor, never once looking at it.
“I was sayin’,” continued Tom thickly, “‘fore ‘at happened,”— he waved his hand apologetically toward Mrs. Ahearn —“I was sayin’ I heard all truth that Country Club matter.”
Milton leaned and whispered something to him.
“Lemme ‘lone,” he said petulantly25; “know what I’m doin’. ‘Ats what they came for.”
Evylyn sat there in a panic, trying to make her mouth form words. She saw her sister’s sardonic26 expression and Mrs. Ahearn’s face turning a vivid red. Ahearn was looking down at his watch-chain, fingering it.
“I heard who’s been keepin’ y’ out, an’ he’s not a bit better’n you. I can fix whole damn thing up. Would’ve before, but I didn’t know you. Harol’ tol’ me you felt bad about the thing ——”
Milton Piper rose suddenly and awkwardly to his feet. In a second every one was standing27 tensely and Milton was saying something very hurriedly about having to go early, and the Ahearns were listening with eager intentness. Then Mrs. Ahearn swallowed and turned with a forced smile toward Jessie. Evylyn saw Tom lurch13 forward and put his hand on Ahearns shoulder — and suddenly she was listening to a new, anxious voice at her elbow, and, turning, found Hilda, the second maid.
“Please, Mis’ Piper, I tank Yulie got her hand poisoned. It’s all swole up and her cheeks is hot and she’s moanin’ an’ groanin’——”
“Julie is?” Evylyn asked sharply. The party suddenly receded28. She turned quickly, sought with her eyes for Mrs. Ahearn, slipped toward her.
“If you’ll excuse me, Mrs.—” She had momentarily forgotten the name, but she went right on: “My little girl’s been taken sick. I’ll be down when I can.” She turned and ran quickly up the stairs, retaining a confused picture of rays of cigar smoke and a loud discussion in the centre of the room that seemed to be developing into an argument.
Switching on the light in the nursery, she found Julie tossing feverishly29 and giving out odd little cries. She put her hand against the cheeks. They were burning. With an exclamation30 she followed the arm down under the cover until she found the hand. Hilda was right. The whole thumb was swollen31 to the wrist and in the centre was a little inflamed32 sore. Blood-poisoning! her mind cried in terror. The bandage had come off the cut and she’d gotten something in it. She’d cut it at three o’clock — it was now nearly eleven. Eight hours. Blood-poisoning couldn’t possibly develop so soon.
She rushed to the ‘phone.
Doctor Martin across the street was out. Doctor Foulke, their family physician, didn’t answer. She racked her brains and in desperation called her throat specialist, and bit her lip furiously while he looked up the numbers of two physicians. During that interminable moment she thought she heard loud voices down-stairs — but she seemed to be in another world now. After fifteen minutes she located a physician who sounded angry and sulky at being called out of bed. She ran back to the nursery and, looking at the hand, found it was somewhat more swollen.
“Oh, God!” she cried, and kneeling beside the bed began smoothing back Julie’s hair over and over. With a vague idea of getting some hot water, she rose and stared toward the door, but the lace of her dress caught in the bed-rail and she fell forward on her hands and knees. She struggled up and jerked frantically33 at the lace. The bed moved and Julie groaned34. Then more quietly but with suddenly fumbling35 fingers she found the pleat in front, tore the whole pannier completely off, and rushed from the room.
Out in the hall she heard a single loud, insistent36 voice, but as she reached the head of the stairs it ceased and an outer door banged.
The music-room came into view. Only Harold and Milton were there, the former leaning against a chair, his face very pale, his collar open, and his mouth moving loosely.
“What’s the matter?”
Milton looked at her anxiously.
“There was a little trouble ——”
Then Harold saw her and, straightening up with an effort, began to speak.
“Sult m’own cousin m’own house. God damn common nouveau rish. ‘Sult m’own cousin ——”
“Tom had trouble with Ahearn and Harold interfered,” said Milton. “My Lord Milton,” cried Evylyn, “couldn’t you have done something?”
“I tried; I——”
“Julie’s sick,” she interrupted; “she’s poisoned herself. Get him to bed if you can.”
Harold looked up.
“Julie sick?”
Paying no attention, Evylyn brushed by through the dining-room, catching37 sight, with a burst of horror, of the big punch-bowl still on the table, the liquid from melted ice in its bottom. She heard steps on the front stairs — it was Milton helping38 Harold up — and then a mumble: “Why, Julie’s a’righ’.”
“Don’t let him go into the nursery!” she shouted.
The hours blurred39 into a nightmare. The doctor arrived just before midnight and within a half-hour had lanced the wound. He left at two after giving her the addresses of two nurses to call up and promising40 to return at half past six. It was blood-poisoning.
At four, leaving Hilda by the bedside, she went to her room, and slipping with a shudder41 out of her evening dress, kicked it into a corner. She put on a house dress and returned to the nursery while Hilda went to make coffee.
Not until noon could she bring herself to look into Harold’s room, but when she did it was to find him awake and staring very miserably42 at the ceiling. He turned blood-shot hollow eyes upon her. For a minute she hated him, couldn’t speak. A husky voice came from the bed.
“What time is it?”
“Noon.”
“I made a damn fool ——”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said sharply. “Julie’s got blood-poisoning. They may”— she choked over the words —“they think she’ll have to lose her hand.”
“What?”
“She cut herself on that — that bowl.”
“Last night?”
“Oh, what does it matter?” see cried; “she’s got blood-poisoning. Can’t you hear?” He looked at her bewildered — sat half-way up in bed.
“I’ll get dressed,” he said.
Her anger subsided43 and a great wave of weariness and pity for him rolled over her. After all, it was his trouble, too.”
“Yes,” she answered listlessly, “I suppose you’d better.”
收听单词发音 |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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ambler
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| n.以溜步法走的马，慢慢走的人 | |
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perennial
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| adj.终年的；长久的 | |
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jovially
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| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
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concoction
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| n.调配(物)；谎言 | |
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cocktails
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| n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 )；餐前开胃菜；混合物 | |
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batch
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| n.一批(组，群)；一批生产量 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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dazedly
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| 头昏眼花地，眼花缭乱地，茫然地 | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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snobbish
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| adj.势利的，谄上欺下的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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intercede
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| vi.仲裁，说情 | |
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mumble
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| n./v.喃喃而语，咕哝 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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petulantly
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sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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