To Bernice the next week was a revelation. With the feeling that people really enjoyed looking at her and listening to her came the foundation of self-confidence. Of course there were numerous mistakes at first. She did not know, for instance, that Draycott Deyo was studying for the ministry1; she was unaware2 that he had cut in on her because he thought she was a quiet, reserved girl. Had she known these things she would not have treated him to the line which began “Hello, Shell Shock!” and continued with the bathtub story —“It takes a frightful3 lot of energy to fix my hair in the summer — there’s so much of it — so I always fix it first and powder my face and put on my hat; then I get into the bathtub, and dress afterward4. Don’t you think that’s the best plan?”
Though Draycott Deyo was in the throes of difficulties concerning baptism by immersion5 and might possibly have seen a connection, it must be admitted that he did not. He considered feminine bathing an immoral6 subject, and gave her some of his ideas on the depravity of modern society.
But to offset7 that unfortunate occurrence Bernice had several signal successes to her credit. Little Otis Ormonde pleaded off from a trip East and elected instead to follow her with a puppylike devotion, to the amusement of his crowd and to the irritation8 of G. Reece Stoddard, several of whose afternoon calls Otis completely ruined by the disgusting tenderness of the glances he bent9 on Bernice. He even told her the story of the two-by-four and the dressing-room to show her how frightfully mistaken he and every one else had been in their first judgment10 of her. Bernice laughed off that incident with a slight sinking sensation.
Of all Bernice’s conversation perhaps the best known and most universally approved was the line about the bobbing of her hair.
“Oh, Bernice, when you goin’ to get the hair bobbed?”
“Day after to-morrow maybe,” she would reply, laughing. “Will you come and see me? Because I’m counting on you, you know.”
“Will we? You know! But you better hurry up.”
Bernice, whose tonsorial intentions were strictly11 dishonorable, would laugh again.
“Pretty soon now. You’d be surprised.”
But perhaps the most significant symbol of her success was the gray car of the hypercritical Warren McIntyre, parked daily in front of the Harvey house. At first the parlor-maid was distinctly startled when he asked for Bernice instead of Marjorie; after a week of it she told the cook that Miss Bernice had gotta holda Miss Marjorie’s best fella.
And Miss Bernice had. Perhaps it began with Warren’s desire to rouse jealousy12 in Marjorie; perhaps it was the familiar though unrecognized strain of Marjorie in Bernice’s conversation; perhaps it was both of these and something of sincere attraction besides. But somehow the collective mind of the younger set knew within a week that Marjorie’s most reliable beau had made an amazing face-about and was giving an indisputable rush to Marjorie’s guest. The question of the moment was how Marjorie would take it. Warren called Bernice on the ‘phone twice a day, sent her notes, and they were frequently seen together in his roadster, obviously engrossed13 in one of those tense, significant conversations as to whether or not he was sincere.
Marjorie on being twitted only laughed. She said she was mighty14 glad that Warren had at last found some one who appreciated him. So the younger set laughed, too, and guessed that Marjorie didn’t care and let it go at that.
One afternoon when there were only three days left of her visit Bernice was waiting in the hall for Warren, with whom she was going to a bridge party. She was in rather a blissful mood, and when Marjorie — also bound for the party — appeared beside her and began casually15 to adjust her hat in the mirror, Bernice was utterly16 unprepared for anything in the nature of a clash. Marjorie did her work very coldly and succinctly17 in three sentences.
“You may as well get Warren out of your head,” she said coldly.
“What?” Bernice was utterly astounded18.
“You may as well stop making a fool of yourself over Warren McIntyre. He doesn’t care a snap of his fingers about you.”
For a tense moment they regarded each other — Marjorie scornful, aloof19; Bernice astounded, half-angry, half-afraid. Then two cars drove up in front of the house and there was a riotous20 honking21. Both of them gasped22 faintly, turned, and side by side hurried out.
All through the bridge party Bernice strove in vain to master a rising uneasiness. She had offended Marjorie, the sphinx of sphinxes. With the most wholesome23 and innocent intentions in the world she had stolen Marjorie’s property. She felt suddenly and horribly guilty. After the bridge game, when they sat in an informal circle and the conversation became general, the storm gradually broke. Little Otis Ormonde inadvertently precipitated24 it.
“When you going back to kindergarten, Otis?” some one had asked.
“Me? Day Bernice gets her hair bobbed.”
“Then your education’s over,” said Marjorie quickly. “That’s only a bluff25 of hers. I should think you’d have realized.”
“That a fact?” demanded Otis, giving Bernice a reproachful glance.
Bernice’s ears burned as she tried to think up an effectual come-back. In the face of this direct attack her imagination was paralyzed.
“There’s a lot of bluffs26 in the world,” continued Marjorie quite pleasantly. “I should think you’d be young enough to know that, Otis.”
“Well,” said Otis, “maybe so. But gee27! With a line like Bernice’s ——”
“Really?” yawned Marjorie. “What’s her latest bon mot?”
No one seemed to know. In fact, Bernice, having trifled with her muse’s beau, had said nothing memorable28 of late.
“Was that really all a line?” asked Roberta curiously29.
Bernice hesitated. She felt that wit in some form was demanded of her, but under her cousin’s suddenly frigid30 eyes she was completely incapacitated.
“I don’t know,” she stalled.
“Splush!” said Marjorie. “Admit it!”
Bernice saw that Warren’s eyes had left a ukulele he had been tinkering with and were fixed31 on her questioningly.
“Oh, I don’t know!” she repeated steadily32. Her cheeks were glowing.
“Splush!” remarked Marjorie again.
“Come through, Bernice,” urged Otis. “Tell her where to get off.” Bernice looked round again — she seemed unable to get away from Warren’s eyes.
“I like bobbed hair,” she said hurriedly, as if he had asked her a question, “and I intend to bob mine.”
“When?” demanded Marjorie.
“Any time.”
“No time like the present,” suggested Roberta.
Otis jumped to his feet.
“Good stuff!” he cried. “We’ll have a summer bobbing party. Sevier Hotel barber-shop, I think you said.”
In an instant all were on their feet. Bernice’s heart throbbed33 violently.
“What?” she gasped.
Out of the group came Marjorie’s voice, very clear and contemptuous.
“Don’t worry — she’ll back out!”
“Come on, Bernice!” cried Otis, starting toward the door.
Four eyes — Warren’s and Marjorie’s — stared at her, challenged her, defied her. For another second she wavered wildly.
“All right,” she said swiftly “I don’t care if I do.”
An eternity34 of minutes later, riding down-town through the late afternoon beside Warren, the others following in Roberta’s car close behind, Bernice had all the sensations of Marie Antoinette bound for the guillotine in a tumbrel. Vaguely35 she wondered why she did not cry out that it was all a mistake. It was all she could do to keep from clutching her hair with both bands to protect it from the suddenly hostile world. Yet she did neither. Even the thought of her mother was no deterrent36 now. This was the test supreme37 of her sportsmanship; her right to walk unchallenged in the starry38 heaven of popular girls.
Warren was moodily39 silent, and when they came to the hotel he drew up at the curb40 and nodded to Bernice to precede him out. Roberta’s car emptied a laughing crowd into the shop, which presented two bold plate-glass windows to the street.
Bernice stood on the curb and looked at the sign, Sevier Barber-Shop. It was a guillotine indeed, and the hangman was the first barber, who, attired41 in a white coat and smoking a cigarette, leaned non-chalantly against the first chair. He must have heard of her; he must have been waiting all week, smoking eternal cigarettes beside that portentous42, too-often-mentioned first chair. Would they blind-fold her? No, but they would tie a white cloth round her neck lest any of her blood — nonsense — hair — should get on her clothes.
“All right, Bernice,” said Warren quickly.
With her chin in the air she crossed the sidewalk, pushed open the swinging screen-door, and giving not a glance to the uproarious, riotous row that occupied the waiting bench, went up to the fat barber.
“I want you to bob my hair.”
The first barber’s mouth slid somewhat open. His cigarette dropped to the floor.
“Huh?”
“My hair — bob it!”
Refusing further preliminaries, Bernice took her seat on high. A man in the chair next to her turned on his side and gave her a glance, half lather43, half amazement44. One barber started and spoiled little Willy Schuneman’s monthly haircut. Mr. O’Reilly in the last chair grunted45 and swore musically in ancient Gaelic as a razor bit into his cheek. Two bootblacks became wide-eyed and rushed for her feet. No, Bernice didn’t care for a shine.
Outside a passer-by stopped and stared; a couple joined him; half a dozen small boys’ nose sprang into life, flattened46 against the glass; and snatches of conversation borne on the summer breeze drifted in through the screen-door.
“Lookada long hair on a kid!”
“Where’d yuh get ‘at stuff? ‘At’s a bearded lady he just finished shavin’.”
But Bernice saw nothing, heard nothing. Her only living sense told her that this man in the white coat had removed one tortoise-shell comb and then another; that his fingers were fumbling47 clumsily with unfamiliar48 hairpins49; that this hair, this wonderful hair of hers, was going — she would never again feel its long voluptuous50 pull as it hung in a dark-brown glory down her back. For a second she was near breaking down, and then the picture before her swam mechanically into her vision — Marjorie’s mouth curling in a faint ironic51 smile as if to say:
“Give up and get down! You tried to buck52 me and I called your bluff. You see you haven’t got a prayer.”
And some last energy rose up in Bernice, for she clinched53 her hands under the white cloth, and there was a curious narrowing of her eyes that Marjorie remarked on to some one long afterward.
Twenty minutes later the barber swung her round to face the mirror, and she flinched54 at the full extent of the damage that had been wrought55. Her hair was not curls and now it lay in lank56 lifeless blocks on both sides of her suddenly pale face. It was ugly as sin — she had known it would be ugly as sin. Her face’s chief charm had been a Madonna-like simplicity57. Now that was gone and she was — well frightfully mediocre58 — not stagy; only ridiculous, like a Greenwich Villager who had left her spectacles at home.
As she climbed down from the chair she tried to smile — failed miserably59. She saw two of the girls exchange glances; noticed Marjorie’s mouth curved in attenuated60 mockery — and that Warren’s eyes were suddenly very cold.
“You see,”— her words fell into an awkward pause —“I’ve done it.”
“Yes, you’ve — done it,” admitted Warren.
“Do you like it?”
There was a half-hearted “Sure” from two or three voices, another awkward pause, and then Marjorie turned swiftly and with serpentlike intensity61 to Warren.
“Would you mind running me down to the cleaners?” she asked. “I’ve simply got to get a dress there before supper. Roberta’s driving right home and she can take the others.”
Warren stared abstractedly at some infinite speck62 out the window. Then for an instant his eyes rested coldly on Bernice before they turned to Marjorie.
“Be glad to,” he said slowly.
收听单词发音 |
1
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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immersion
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| n.沉浸；专心 | |
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immoral
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| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
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offset
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| n.分支，补偿；v.抵消，补偿 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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succinctly
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| adv.简洁地；简洁地，简便地 | |
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astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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honking
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| v.（使）发出雁叫似的声音，鸣（喇叭），按（喇叭）( honk的现在分词 ) | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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bluffs
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| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
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gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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28
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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deterrent
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| n.阻碍物，制止物；adj.威慑的，遏制的 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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attired
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| 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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portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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lather
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| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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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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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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49
hairpins
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| n.发夹( hairpin的名词复数 ) | |
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50
voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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51
ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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52
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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53
clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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54
flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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56
lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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57
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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mediocre
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| adj.平常的，普通的 | |
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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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attenuated
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| v.（使）变细( attenuate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）变薄；（使）变小；减弱 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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