Since, however, it seemed that some one had to be loved if you were to be able to hold up your head with the rest, then it was easier, infinitely1 easier, to love the curate. With the curate, no personal contact was necessary — and that was more than could be said even of the music-masters. In regard to them, pressures of the hand, as well as countless2 nothings, were expected and enacted3, in the bi-weekly reports you rendered to those of your friends who followed the case. Whereas for the curate it was possible to simulate immense ardour, without needing either to humble4 your pride or call invention to your aid: the worship took place from afar. The curate was, moreover, no unworthy object; indeed he was quite attractive, in a lean, ascetic5 fashion, with his spiritual blue eyes, and the plain gold cross that dangled6 from his black watch-ribbon — though, it must be admitted, when he preached, and grew greatly in earnest, his mouth had a way of opening as if it meant to swallow the church — and Laura was by no means his sole admirer. Several of her friends had a fancy for him, especially as his wife, who was much older than he, was a thin, elderly lady with a tired face.
And now, by her own experience, Laura was led to the following discovery: that, if you imagine a thing with sufficient force, you can induce your imagining to become reality. By dint7 of pretending that it was so, she gradually worked herself up into an attack of love, which was genuine enough to make her redden when Mr. Shepherd was spoken of, and to enjoy being teased about him. And since, at any rate when in church, she was a sincerely religious little girl, and one to whom — notwithstanding her protested indifference10 to forms of worship — such emotional accessories as flowers, and music, and highly coloured vestments made a strong appeal, her feelings for Mr. Shepherd were soon mystically jumbled11 up with her piety12: the eastward13 slant14 for the Creed15, and the Salutation at the Sacred Name, seemed not alone homage16 due to the Deity17, but also a kind of minor18 homage offered to and accepted by Mr. Shepherd; the school-pew being so near the chancel that it was not difficult to believe yourself the recipient19 of personal notice.
At home during the winter holidays, his name chanced to cross her lips. Straightway it occurred to Mother that he was the nephew of an old friend whom she had long lost sight of letters passed between Warrenega and Melbourne, and shortly after her return to the College Laura learnt that she was to spend the coming monthly holiday at Mr. Shepherd’s house.
In the agitated21 frame of mind this threw her into, she did not know whether to be glad or sorry. Her feelings had, of late, got into such a rapt and pious22 muddle23 that it seemed a little like being asked out to meet God. On the other hand, she could not but see that the circumstance would raise her standing9 at school, immeasurably. And this it did. As soon as the first shock had passed she communicated the fact freely, and was shrewd enough not to relate how the invitation had come about, allowing it to be put down, as her friends were but too ready to do, to the effect produced on the minister by her silent adoration24.
The Church girls were wild with envy. Laura was dragged up the garden with an arm thrust through each of hers. Mr. Shepherd’s holy calling and spiritual appearance stood him in small stead here; and the blackest interpretation25 was put on the matter of the visit.
“Nice things you’ll be up to, the pair of you — oh, my aunt!” ejaculated Maria.
“I think it’s beastly risky26 her going at all,” filled in Kate Horner, gobbling a little; for her upper lip overhung the lower. “These saints are oftenest bad ‘uns.”
“Yes, and with an Aunt Sally like that for a wife.— Now look here, Kiddy, just you watch you’re not left alone with him in the dark.”
“And mind, you’ve got to tell us everything — every blessed thing!”
Laura was called for, on Saturday morning, by the maiden27 sister of her divinity. Miss Isabella Shepherd was a fair, short, pleasant young woman, with a nervous, kindly28 smile, and a congenital inability to look you in the face when speaking to you; so that the impression she made was that of a perpetual friendliness29, directed, however, not at you, but at the inanimate objects around you. Laura was so tickled30 by this peculiarity31, which she spied the moment she entered the waiting-room, that at first she could take in nothing else. Afterwards, when the novelty had worn off, she subjected her companion to a closer scrutiny32, and from the height of thirteen years had soon taxed her with being a frumpish old maid; the valiant33 but feeble efforts Miss Isabella made to entertain her, as they walked along, only strengthening her in this opinion.
Not very far from the College they entered a small, two-storied stone house, which but for an iron railing and a shrub34 or two gave right on the street.
“Will you come up to the study?” said Miss Isabella, smiling warmly, and ogling35 the door-mat. “I’m sure Robby would like to see you at once.”
Robby? Her saint called Robby?— Laura blushed.
But at the head of the stairs they were brought up short by Mrs. Shepherd, who, policeman-like, raised a warning hand.
“Hssh . . . ssh . . . sh!” she breathed, and simultaneously36 half-closed her eyes, as if imitating slumber37. “Robby has just lain down for a few minutes. How are you, dear?”— in a whisper. “I’m so pleased to see you.”
She looked even more faded than in church. But she was very kind, and in the bedroom insisted on getting out a clean towel for Laura.
“Now we’ll go down.— It’s only lunch to-day, for Robby has a confirmation-class immediately afterwards, and doesn’t care to eat much.”
They descended38 to the dining-room, but though the meal was served, did not take their seats: they stood about, in a kind of anxious silence. This lasted for several minutes; then, heavy footsteps were heard trampling39 overhead: these persisted, but did not seem to advance, and at length there was a loud, impatient shout of: “Maisie!”
Both ladies were perceptibly flurried. “He can’t find something,” said Miss Isabella in a stage-whisper; while Mrs. Shepherd, taking the front of her dress in both hands, set out for the stairs with the short, clumsy jerks which, in a woman, pass for running.
A minute or two later the origin of the fluster40 came in, looking, it must be confessed, not much more amiable41 than his voice had been: he was extremely pale, too, his blue eyes had hollow rings round them, and there were tired wrinkles on his forehead. However he offered Laura a friendly hand which she took with her soul in her eyes.
“Well, and so this is the young lady fresh from the halls of learning, is it?” he asked, after a mumbled42 grace, as he carved a rather naked mutton-bone: the knife caught in the bone; he wrenched43 it free with an ill-natured tweak. “And what do they teach you at college, miss, eh?” he went on. “French? . . . Greek? . . . Latin? How goes it? INFANDUM, REGINA, JUBES RENOVARE DOLOREM— isn’t that the way of it? And then . . . let me see! It’s so long since I went to school, you know.”
“TROJANAS UT OPES ET LAMENTABILE REGNUM ERUERINT DANAI,” said Laura, almost blind with pride and pleasure.
“Well, well, well!” he exclaimed, in what seemed tremendous surprise; but, even as she spoke8, his thoughts were swept away; for he had taken up a mustard-pot and found it empty. “Yes, yes, here we are again! Not a scrap44 of mustard on the table. “— His voice was angrily resigned.
“With MUTTON, Robby dear?” ventured Mrs. Shepherd, with the utmost humbleness45.
“With mutton if I choose!” he retorted violently. “WILL you, Maisie, be kind enough to allow me to know my own tastes best, and not dictate46 to me what I shall eat?”
But Mrs. Shepherd, murmuring: “Oh dear! it’s that dreadful girl,” had already made a timid spring at the bell.
“Poor Robby . . . so rushed again!” said Isabella in a reproachful tone.
“And while she’s here she may bring the water and the glasses as well,” snarled47 the master of the house, who had run a flaming eye over the table.
“Tch, tch, tch!” said Mrs. Shepherd, with so little spirit that Laura felt quite sorry for her.
“REALLY, Maisie!” said Miss Isabella. “And when the poor boy’s so rushed, too.”
This guerilla warfare48 continued throughout luncheon49, and left Laura wondering why, considering the dearth50 of time, and the distress51 of the ladies at each fresh contretemps, they did not jump up and fetch the missing articles themselves — as Mother would have done — instead of each time ringing the bell and waiting for the appearance of the saucy52, unwilling53 servant. As it turned out, however, their behaviour had a pedagogic basis. It seemed that they hoped, by constantly summoning the maid, to sharpen her memory. But Mrs. Shepherd was also implicated54 in the method; and this was the reason why Isabella — as she afterwards explained to Laura — never offered her a thimbleful of help.
“My sister-in-law is nothing of a manager,” she said. “But we still trust she will improve in time, if she always has her attention drawn55 to her forgetfulness — at least Robby does; I’m afraid I have rather given her up. But Robby’s patience is angelic.” And Laura was of the same opinion, since the couple had been married for more than seven years.
The moment the meal, which lasted a quarter of an hour, was over, Mr. Shepherd clapped on his shovel-hat and started, with long strides, for his class, Mrs. Shepherd, who had not been quite ready, scuttling56 along a hundred yards behind him, with quick, fussy57 steps, and bonnet58 an awry59.
Laura and Isabella stood at the gate.
“I ought really to have gone, too,” said Isabella, and smiled at the gutter60. “But as you are here, Robby said I had better stay at home to-day.— Now what would you like to do?”
This opened up a dazzling prospect61, with the whole of Melbourne before one. But Laura was too polite to pretend anything but indifference.
“Well, perhaps you wouldn’t mind staying in then? I want so much to copy out Robby’s sermon. I always do it, you know, for he can’t read his own writing. But he won’t expect it to-day and he’ll be so pleased.”
It was a cool, quiet little house, with the slightly unused smell in the rooms that betokens62 a lack of children. Laura did not dislike the quiet, and sat contentedly63 in the front parlour till evening fell. Not, however, that she was really within hundreds of miles of Melbourne; for the wonderful book that she held on her knee was called KING SOLOMON’S MINES, and her eyes never rose from the pages.
Supper, when it came, was as scrappy and as hurried as lunch had been: a class of working-men was momently expected, and Robby had just time to gulp64 down a cup of tea. Nor could he converse65; for he was obliged to spare his throat.
Afterwards the three of them sat listening to the loud talking overhead. This came down distinctly through the thin ceiling, and Mr. Shepherd’s voice — it went on and on — sounded, at such close quarters, both harsh and rasping. Mrs. Shepherd was mending a stole; Isabella stooped over the sermon, which she was writing like copperplate. Laura sat in a corner with her hands before her: she had finished her book, but her eyes were still visionary. When any of the three spoke, it was in a low tone.
Towards nine o’clock Mrs. Shepherd fetched a little saucepan, filled it with milk, and set it on the hob; and after this she hovered66 undecidedly between door and fireplace, like a distracted moth20.
“Now do try to get it right to-night, Maisie,” admonished67 Isabella; and, turning her face, if not her glance, to Laura, she explained: “It must boil, but not have a scrap of skin on it, or Robby won’t look at it.”
Presently the working-men were heard pounding down the stairs, and thereupon Maisie vanished from the room.
The next day Laura attended morning and evening service at St Stephen’s-on-the-Hill, and in the afternoon made one of Isabella’s class at Sunday school.
That morning she had wakened, in what seemed to be the middle of the night, to find Isabella dressing68 by the light of a single candle.
“Don’t you get up,” said the latter. “We’re all going to early service, and I just want to make Robby some bread and milk beforehand. He would rather communicate fasting, but he has to have something, for he doesn’t get home till dinner-time.”
When midday came, Robby was very fractious. The mutton-bone — no cooking was done — was harder than ever to carve with decency69; and poor Mrs. Shepherd, for sheer fidgetiness, could hardly swallow a bite.
But at nine o’clock that evening, when the labours of the day were behind him, he was persuaded to lie down on the sofa and drink a glass of port. At his head sat Mrs. Shepherd, holding the wine and some biscuits; at his feet Isabella, stroking his soles. The stimulant70 revived him; he grew quite mellow71, and presently, taking his wife’s hand, he held it in his — and Laura felt sure that all his querulousness was forgiven him for the sake of this moment. Then, finding a willing listener in the black-eyed little girl who sat before him, he began to talk, to relate his travels, giving, in particular, a vivid account of some months he had once spent in Japan. Laura, who liked nothing better than travelling at second hand — since any other way was out of the question — Laura spent a delightful72 hour, and said so.
“Yes, Robby quite surpassed himself to-night, I thought,” said Isabella as she let down her hair. “I never heard anyone who could talk as well as he does when he likes.— Can you keep a secret, Laura? We are sure, Maisie and I, that Robby will be a Bishop73 some day. And he means to be, himself.— But don’t say a word about it; he won’t have it mentioned out of the house.— And meanwhile he’s working as hard as he can, and we’re saving every penny, to let him take his next degree.”
“I do hope you’ll come again,” she said the following morning, as they walked back to the College. “I don’t mind telling you now, I felt quite nervous when Robby said we were to ask you. I’ve had no experience of little girls. But you haven’t been the least trouble — not a bit. And I’m sure it was good for Robby having something young about the house. So mind you write and tell us when you have another holiday”— and Isabella’s smile beamed out once more, none the less kindly because it was caught, on its way to Laura, by the gate they were passing through.
Laura, whose mind was set on a good, satisfying slab74 of cake, promised to do this, although her feelings had suffered so great a change that she was not sure whether she would keep her word. She was pulled two ways: on the one side was the remembrance of Mr. Shepherd hacking75 cantankerously76 at the bare mutton-bone; on the other, the cherry-blossom and the mousmes of Japan.
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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ascetic
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| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
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dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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spoke
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| 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 | |
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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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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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recipient
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| a.接受的,感受性强的 n.接受者,感受者,容器 | |
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moth
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| n.蛾，蛀虫 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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muddle
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| n.困惑，混浊状态；vt.使混乱，使糊涂，使惊呆；vi.胡乱应付，混乱 | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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ogling
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| v.（向…）抛媚眼，送秋波( ogle的现在分词 ) | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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fluster
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| adj.慌乱，狼狈，混乱，激动 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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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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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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humbleness
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| n.谦卑，谦逊；恭顺 | |
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dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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dearth
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| n.缺乏，粮食不足，饥谨 | |
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51
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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52
saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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53
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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implicated
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| adj.密切关联的；牵涉其中的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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56
scuttling
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| n.船底穿孔，打开通海阀（沉船用）v.使船沉没( scuttle的现在分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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61
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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62
betokens
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的第三人称单数 ) | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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67
admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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68
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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69
decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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70
stimulant
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| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
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71
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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72
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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73
bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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74
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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75
hacking
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| n.非法访问计算机系统和数据库的活动 | |
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76
cantankerously
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