Mr. Goodlett, his greeting over, was for pushing on, but the voice of the invalid detained him. "Can you tell me," she said, turning to Mr. Sanders, "whether the Gaither Place is occupied? Oh, but I forgot; you are just returning from that horrible, horrible war." She had lifted herself from a reclining position, but fell back hopelessly.
"Why, Ab thar ought to be able to tell you that," responded Mr. Sanders, his voice full of sympathy.
"Well, I jest ain't," declared Mr. Goodlett, with some show of impatience12. "I tell you, William, I been so worried an' flurried, an' so disqualified an' mortified13, an' so het up wi' fust one thing an' then another, that I ain't skacely had time for to scratch myself on the eatchin' places, much less gittin' up all times er night for to see ef the Gaither Place is got folks or ha'nts in it. When you've been through what I have, William, you won't come a-axin' me ef the Gaither house is whar it mought be, or whar it oughter be, or ef it's popylated or dispopylated."
The young lady stroked the invalid's hand and smiled. Something in the frowning face and fractious tone of the old man evidently appealed to her sense of humour. "Don't you think it is absurd," said the pale lady, again appealing to Mr. Sanders, "that a person should live in so small a town, and not know whether one of the largest houses in the place is occupied—a house that belongs to a family that used to be one of the most prominent of the county? Why, of course it is absurd. There is something uncanny about it. I haven't had such a shock in many a day."
"But, mother," protested the young lady, "why worry about it? A great many strange things have happened to us, and this is the least important of all."
"Why, dearest, this is the strangest of all strange things. The driver here says he lives at Dorringtons', and the Gaither house is not so very far from Dorringtons'."
"Everybody knows," said Gabriel, "that Miss Polly Gaither lives in the Gaither house." He spoke before he was aware, and began to blush. Whereupon the young lady gave him a very bright smile.
"Humph!" grunted14 Mr. Goodlett, giving the lad a severe look. He started to climb into his seat, but turned to Gabriel. "Is she got a wen?" he asked, with something like a scowl15.
"Yes, she has a wen," replied the lad, blushing again, but this time for Mr. Goodlett.
"Well, then, ef she's got a wen, ef Polly Gaithers is got a wen, she's livin' in that house, bekaze, no longer'n last Sat'day, she come roun' for to borry some meal; an' whatsomever she use to have, an' whatsomever she mought have herearter, she's got a wen now, an' I'll tell you so on a stack of Bibles as high as the court-house."
The young lady laughed, but immediately controlled herself with a half-petulant "Oh dear!" Laughter became her well, for it smoothed away a little frown of perplexity that had established itself between her eyebrows16.
"Oh, we'll take the young man's word for it," said the invalid, "and we are very much obliged to him. What is your name?" When Gabriel had told her, she repeated the name over again. "I used to know your grandmother very well," she said. "Tell her Margaret Bridalbin has returned home, and would be delighted to see her."
"Then, ma'am, you must be Margaret Gaither," remarked Mr. Sanders.
"Yes, I was Margaret Gaither," replied the invalid. "I used to know you very well, Mr. Sanders, and if I had changed as little as you have, I could still boast of my beauty."
"Yet nobody hears me braggin' of mine, Margaret," said Mr. Sanders with a smile that found its reflection in the daughter's face; "but I hope from my heart that home an' old friends will be a good physic for you, an' git you to braggin' ag'in. Anyhow, ef you don't brag17 on yourself, you can take up a good part of the time braggin' on your daughter."
"Oh, thank you, sir, for the clever joke. My mother has told me long ago how full of fun you are," said the young lady, blushing sufficiently18 to show that she did not regard the compliment as altogether a joke. "You may drive on now," she remarked to Mr. Goodlett. Whereupon that surly-looking veteran slapped his mismatched team with the loose ends of the reins19, and the shabby old hack moved off toward Shady Dale. Mr. Sanders waited for the vehicle to get some distance ahead, and then he too urged his team forward.
"The word is Home," he said; "I reckon Margaret has had her sheer of trouble, an' a few slices more. She made her own bed, as the sayin' is, an' now she's layin' on it. Well, well, well! when time an' occasions take arter you, it ain't no use to run; you mought jest as well set right flat on the ground an' see what they've got ag'in you."
The remark was not original, nor very deep, but it recurred21 to Gabriel when trouble plucked at his own sleeve, or when he saw disaster run through a family like a contagion22.
In no long time the waggon reached the outskirts23 of the town, where the highway became a part of the wide street that ran through the centre of Shady Dale, flowing around the old court-house in the semblance24 of a wide river embracing a small island. Gabriel and Cephas were on the point of leaving the waggon here, but Mr. Sanders was of another mind.
"She's sure to get the best of it," Gabriel warned him.
"Likely enough, but that won't spile the fun," responded Mr. Sanders.
Mrs. Absalom, as she was called, was the wife of Mr. Goodlett, and was marked off from the great majority of her sex by her keen appreciation26 of humour. Her own contributions were spoiled for some, for the reason that she gave them the tone of quarrelsomeness; whereas, it is to be doubted whether she ever gave way to real anger more than once or twice in her life. She was Dr. Randolph Dorrington's housekeeper27, and was a real mother to Nan, who was motherless before she had drawn28 a dozen breaths of the poisonous air of this world.
By the time the waggon reached Dorrington's, Gabriel, acting29 on the instructions of Mr. Sanders, had crawled under the cover of the waggon, and was holding out a pair of old shoes, so that a passer-by would imagine that some one was lying prone30 in the waggon with his feet sticking out.
When the waggon reached the Dorrington Place, Mr. Sanders drew rein20, and hailed the house, having signed to Cephas to make himself invisible. Evidently Mrs. Absalom was in the rear, or in the kitchen, which was a favourite resort of hers, for the "hello" had to be repeated a number of times before she made her appearance. She came wiping her face on her ample apron31, and brushing the hair from her eyes. She was always a busy housekeeper.
"We're huntin', ma'am, for a place called Cloptons'," said Mr. Sanders in a falsetto voice, his hat pulled down over his eyes; "an' we'd thank you might'ly ef you'd put us on the right road. About four mile back, we picked up a' old snoozer who calls himself William H. Sanders, an' he keeps on talkin' about the Clopton Place."
"Why, the Clopton Place is right down the road a piece. What in the world is the matter wi' old Billy?" she inquired with real solicitude32. "Was he wounded in the war, or is he jest up to some of his old-time devilment?"
"Well, ma'am, from the looks of the jimmyjon we found by his side, he must 'a' shot hisself in the neck. He complains of cold feet, an' he's got 'em stuck out from under the kiver."
"Don't you worry about that," said Mrs. Absalom; "the climate will never strike in on old Billy's feet till he gits better acquainted wi' soap an' water."
"An' he talks in his sleep about a Mrs. Absalom," Mr. Sanders went on, "an' he cries, an' says she used to be his sweetheart, but he had to jilt her bekaze she can't cook a decent biscuit."
"The old villain33!" exclaimed Mrs. Absalom, with well simulated indignation; "he can't tell the truth even when he's drunk. If he ever sobers up in this world, I'll give him a long piece of my mind. Jest drive on the way you've started, an' ef you can keep in the middle of the road wi' that drunken old slink in the waggin, you'll come to Cloptons' in a mighty34 few minutes."
At this juncture35 Mr. Sanders was obliged to laugh, whereupon, Mrs. Absalom, looking narrowly at the travellers, had no difficulty in recognising them. "Well, my life!" she exclaimed, raising her hands above her head in a gesture of amazement36. "Why, that's old Billy, an' him sober; and Franky Bethune, an' him not a primpin'! Well, well! I'd 'a' never believed it ef I hadn't 'a' seed it. I vow37 I'm beginnin' to believe that war's a real good thing; it's like a revival38 meetin' for some folks. I'm sorry Ab didn't take his gun an' jine in—maybe he'd 'a' shed his stinginess. But I declare to gracious, I'm glad to see you all; the sight of you is good for the sore eyes. An' Frank tryin' to raise a beard! Well, honey, I'll send you a bottle of bergamot grease to rub on it."
Mrs. Absalom came out to the waggon and shook hands with the returned warriors39 very heartily40, and, sharp as her tongue was, there were tears in her eyes as she greeted them; for in that region, nearly all had feelings of kinship for their neighbours and friends, and in that day and time, people were not ashamed of their emotions.
"Margaret Gaither has come back," remarked Mr. Sanders. "Ab fetched her in his hack."
"Well, the poor creetur'!" exclaimed Mrs. Absalom; "they say she's had trouble piled on her house-high."
"She won't have much more in this world ef looks is any sign," Mr. Sanders replied. "She ain't nothin' but a livin' skeleton, but she's got a mighty lively gal41."
The waggon moved on and left Mrs. Absalom leaning on the gate, a position that she kept for some little time. Farther down the road, Gabriel, whose example was followed by Cephas, bade Mr. Sanders good-bye, nodded lightly to Francis Bethune, and jumped from the waggon.
"Wait a moment, Tolliver," said Bethune. "I want you to come to see me—and bring Cephas with you. I am going to make you like me if I can. The home folks have been writing great things about you. Oh, you must come," he insisted, seeing that Gabriel was hesitating. "I want to show you what a good fellow I can be when I try right hard."
"Yes, you boys must come," said Mr. Sanders; "an' ef Frank is off courtin' that new gal—I ketched him cuttin' his eye at her—you can hunt me up, an' I'll tell you some old-time tales that'll make your hair stan' on end."
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1
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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emaciated
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| adj.衰弱的，消瘦的 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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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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waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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14
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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15
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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16
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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brag
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| v./n.吹牛，自夸；adj.第一流的 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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recurred
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| 再发生，复发( recur的过去式和过去分词 )； 治愈 | |
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22
contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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swap
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| n.交换；vt.交换，用...作交易 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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28
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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36
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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37
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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38
revival
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| n.复兴，复苏，（精力、活力等的）重振 | |
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39
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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40
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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41
gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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