"And it's so pretty," said Aunt Honora. "Those ruffles8 round the skirt are done in such a dainty manner, and—oh, I won't disturb you if you'll allow me just to take the pattern. I can in a moment—don't move, don't move!"
Kitty opened her eyes in some bewilderment, and gazed full into the fat and somewhat red face of Carrie Lewis. It was Carrie's voice she had heard, piercing through her dreams. It was Carrie who was bending by her side and holding up a length of her skirt in her hand.
"Oh, don't move, pray; I have just got the set of it; it's very curious and very fashionable. I know Sam would like it awfully9."
"Who are you, and what do you want?" said Kitty, jumping to her feet and confronting her unwelcome visitor with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.
"I knocked at your door several times, and you didn't answer," said Carrie; "so then I opened it softly and came in, and you were half-sitting, half-kneeling by your bed, sound asleep; and your skirt did look so very fashionable that I was tempted10!—oh yes, I have taken the pattern in my mind's eye. I'll alter my blue nun's-veiling. I can easily get a bit more of the stuff to match, and it will make it quite comme il fait,"
"But who are you?" said Kitty, who had never laid eyes on Carrie before.
"I'm Elma's sister. Now you know."
"Elma's sister?" said Kitty. "But what have you come to my room for?
What do you want here?"
"To speak to you. I want to help you if you'll let me."
"To help me?" said Kitty languidly. "I would much rather you went away. You cannot help me; you know nothing whatever about me. I am in great great trouble, and I would much rather be alone."
"You would not rather be alone if you could be helped," said Carrie. "I know all about it. You have got a brother in Ireland who has got into a scrape. Bless you, I know all about the scrapes of young men. Now, poor Sam Raynes, he——. Yes, what is it, Miss Malone?"
"I wish you would leave me," said Kitty in a haughty11 tone. "I am not friends with Elma just now, and I would rather not see any of her family."
"Yes, but I think you'll see me when I tell you my errand," said Carrie, in no way abashed12 by Kitty's manner. She crossed the room as she spoke13, and deliberately14 placing herself in the one easy-chair the room possessed15, crossed her legs, and leaning back, looked fixedly16 at Kitty.
"Very well, if you won't go, then I must," said Kitty. "I don't understand English people. They talk a great deal about manners; but no Irishwoman, none that I ever heard of, would dream——"
"Oh, bosh! Stop all that," said Carrie in her rudest voice. "I have come here to help you, and I see that I must explain myself. You want some money, don't you?"
"Yes; but I cannot get it," answered Kitty.
"Oh, my dear, do just stay still a moment. What a sweet little shoe!
Did you get it at any shop here?"
"No," answered Kitty, interested for the moment in spite of herself. "Aunt Honora bought these in Grafton Street, Dublin. They have the nicest shoes in that special shop of any place I know. Do you like it?"
"Oh, it is quite sweet; it is the way the heel is arranged, and that little buckle17."
"Well, never mind about my shoes now," said Kitty, pushing the attractive little foot well in under her skirt. "What is it you have come to say? Please say it, and then—go."
"I will, if you wish me to. Look here, I know all about your story. You are in dreadful trouble, and so is Elma; but I do declare I think poor Elma's trouble much worse than yours."
"You know nothing about it," cried Kitty, with passion. "Elma in worse trouble! Oh, if you only could guess!"
"I guess well enough," said Carrie, "and so does Elma. You want money, which, evidently, as a rule, is as plentiful18 to you as blackberries on the hedges in September; and you think, because you cannot lay your hand on that money immediately, the whole world is going to change. But let me tell you that Elma and I want money far, far more badly than you have any idea of. Until you gave Elma that eight pounds, we neither of us ever in our lives had so much in our possession."
"I didn't give it—you make a mistake—I lent it."
"Oh, it is all the same. Elma had it, and, for practical purposes, it was just as valuable as if it were really her own."
"Well, I want her to give it back to me now. I surely have a right to ask for my own money back again?"
"No, you have not—not without reasonable notice. She asked you to lend her some money—she never asked for eight pounds—you let her take it. You said she might have as much as she liked. When she explained the position of things to me, I said: 'Elma, you were a rare fool not to take the whole fifteen.'"
"You must be a very queer girl," said Kitty, astonished at this remarkable19 specimen20 of young ladyhood.
"Am I? I don't know. I am frank, and I am generally hard-up. I know, if any one does, where the shoe pinches. Bless you! it would do you good to open your eyes. You don't know what poverty means—a little house, a disgusting little house, shabby paper, dirty ceilings, badly-carpeted floors, the drains wrong, the water-supply as likely to poison us as not, an invalid21 mother—"
"Oh, have you a mother? Then, I am sure you are not to be pitied," interrupted Kitty.
"Little you know! What good is a mother who is in bed most of the day, a father who—Well, I need not mention him; he is not in the country at any rate. No education to speak of; no dress worth considering; toil22, toil from morning till night; and life a mere23 scramble24, a scramble for bread without butter. That's what our life is!"
Kitty had ceased to fidget; she even sank down on the corner of the nearest chair. Her pretty figure, her beautifully-appointed dress, her whole appearance, from the crown of her head to the sole of her foot, betokened25 what the other girl could never aspire26 to, never hope to have—abundance of money. And yet at the present moment Kitty was breaking her heart for want of money. No wonder Carrie was puzzled. Kitty's own eyes were opened to an extent they had never been opened before.
"Yes, our life is a rough one," continued Carrie; "very rough indeed; but I don't grumble27. I was brought up to it, and use is half the battle, as perhaps you don't know, but you ought. You'll get accustomed to doing without your eight pounds after a bit, and never give it another thought."
"Oh, no, that I won't," said Kitty, now jumping to her feet in her indignation; "and it is not for myself, it is for——"
"Oh, never mind who it is for. You want it, and you think the world is going to stand still because you cannot get it. Well, the world won't stand still. I, who am quite used to doing without money, can assure you as to the truth of that fact. Would you like to know, now, how I spend my days? I teach some horrid28 children in a small private school from ten to one each morning, and then in the afternoon I go to a family and teach some more little brats29; and I am scarcely paid anything for all this toil—starvation wages I call it—and I hate it, hate it. But I have my consolations31. I am not overparticular; very small pleasures content me; and there's a fellow whom I love."
"A fellow whom you love?" echoed Kitty; "is it a brother?"
"Bless you, I'm not likely to put myself out about a brother; not that I have one, and so much the better, thank goodness. There's a man whom I love, and a right jolly fellow he is—his name is Sam Raynes. He is not one of your fine, bread-and-butter gentlemen—not he. He is rough and ready, and he has his joke, and he isn't too handsome, although some people admire red hair; but, anyhow, I'm fond of him and he's fond of me, and some day—I don't know when—when we can scrape enough together, we are going to set up housekeeping."
"You are going to marry; is that it?" said Kitty.
"Yes; some day we'll marry. Now, you see, that's a bit of fun for me; and I can go out with Sam on bank holidays and on Sunday afternoons just like any other girl with her young man. Bless you, I don't mind."
"I wonder what all this is leading up to," said Kitty, with a slight yawn. "Of course, it is very interesting to you; but I don't care about your young man."
"No more you do, you haughty little minx; and I wouldn't bother you about him, for, with all his faults, he's too good to have words wasted about him to a little independent chit of a thing like you. But, as I was saying, I'm not talking for nothing, I'm leading up to something. Now, I am content enough with our lot; but Elma isn't. Elma is quite different from me—she has got a great deal of refinement32 about her."
"Has she indeed?" said Kitty in a voice of scorn.
"Yes, she has, and you needn't contradict me. She's a very clever girl, is Elma. I don't say that she's always as straight as a die—I don't pretend that she is; but she is a clever girl, and she is fond of her books, and she's likely to get on—that is, if you don't spike33 her guns."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, well, it's only an expression of mine. I heard Sam use it last week. I often copy his phrases, they're so fine and full of flourish. Well, now, if you don't spoil sport, Elma will get into an altogether different circle from your humble34 servant. Mother and I will go one way, and Elma another. Elma, with her grand notions and her set-you-up sort of airs, will rise in life. She's heartily35 welcome to go her own way, and I wish her Godspeed, for she is the only sister I have got."
"I don't understand," interrupted Kitty.
"If you'll let me speak I'll soon explain. You don't suppose that girls such as I am are often to be seen at Middleton School?"
"Well, I have not seen any like you," said Kitty, gazing from head to foot at her very peculiar36 visitor.
"No more you have, bless you; and I'm not the least offended by your very frank stare. Sam admires me, and that's enough for me. Now, Elma looks a lady, doesn't she?"
"I suppose so," said Kitty in a dubious37 tone.
"You suppose so indeed! Let me tell you that Elma is a born little lady, a real lady, and she looks it, every inch of her. That is why she goes to Middleton School; but now, who do you think pay for her?"
"How can I tell?"
"Do you think mother, or father, or I? Now, who do you think does? I should be interested to know your thoughts."
"I cannot really tell you, Miss Lewis."
"Oh, it does sound fine to hear you Miss Lewising me. My name is
Carrie."
"I prefer to call you Miss Lewis."
"Highty! tighty! we are haughty. Well, the person who pays for Elma is our Aunt Charlotte—a certain Mrs. Steward38, wife of the Reverend John Steward, rector of St. Bartholomew's, Buckinghamshire. There's a grand enough name for you; and I suppose, being a clergyman, you'll consider that he is a gentleman and that his wife is a lady. Aunt Charlotte happens to be own sister to mother; and when Elma made her little complaint to her she took pity on her; and now she pays all her expenses at Middleton School. And if Elma does well and nothing disagreeable comes to Aunt Charlotte's ears, she will send her presently to Newnham or Girton. Think of that I Elma will be a college girl; she will be an undergraduate of one of the universities—and some day a graduate; and then she will get a first-class post as high-school mistress, or mistress of something or other. But if you tell on her and make things bad, and the truth gets out—You look pale; are you ill?"
"I am all right," said Kitty. She staggered across the room and poured some water into a glass.
"I did not eat much lunch," she continued; "and I am—Never mind; go on."
"Well," continued Carrie, "if nothing comes to Aunt Charlotte's ears to turn her mind the other way, Elma will be all right; she will move in your sphere—yes, she will, whether you like it or not. She is just so clever she is able to do anything. So I have come to say that I hope to goodness you won't split on her, for it would be mighty39 cruel of you. You would ruin her for life, and that would be a nice consolation30 for you when you came to die. She did not steal your money, remember; you gave it to her."
"I lent it to her."
"Oh, how you will harp40 upon that! But you didn't tell her to a day when she was to pay it back again."
"No, I certainly did not; but, of course, I expected that she would return it to me when I asked for it; and then she spent it on dress."
"Spent it on dress? What do you mean?"
"She told me so."
"Oh, naughty, naughty little Elma!" said Carrie, shaking her forefinger41 in a very knowing manner "She didn't like to tell about Sam, and so she made up that story, did she? Well, it was an untruth. She didn't spend that money on dress; she—well, I will tell you—I stole it from her."
"You!" gasped42 Kitty, backing away in horror.
"Yes. Good gracious! how scared you are! You don't understand the larks43 of girls like me. I didn't mean any harm. I took it and gave it to Sam to keep for her."
"Then," said Kitty, coming close up to Carrie, her lips parted, the color flooding her cheeks, her eyes full of light, "then, of course, you, Carrie——"
"Oh, I'm Carrie now, am I?"
"Yes, you are; but never mind. Then, you, Carrie, can get it back for me?"
"So I will, all in good time, my pretty little dear. You shall have the money if you are willing to wait, say a month."
"There's no use at all in that," said Kitty, her voice sounding faint and far away.
"I am afraid there must be, as far as that eight pounds is concerned. The fact is, Sam is speculating with the money, and when we get it back it will be doubled. Elma and I will divide the profits between us, and you shall have your eight pounds back. Now, I think I have told you everything except—"
"And, having told me, I wish you would go away," said Kitty. "I don't know that you have bettered matters in any way. Of course I am sorry for Elma; but it is only right that you should know something. It would be well also for Elma to know the truth. I told her yesterday when I went to your house that I would keep her secret until after morning school."
"Good gracious! You have not blurted44 out the truth?"
"Wait till you hear. When I was at school this morning I was—oh so miserable! I could not help thinking of—But never mind; you would not understand."
"No, no, of course not; pray proceed."
"I was thinking how soon I might tell."
"Nice sort of creature you are!"
"Why will you interrupt me?" said Kitty. "But then I looked at Elma, and I saw that she seemed very anxious and miserable; and wretched as I was, I made up my mind to be kind to her. I said to myself I will keep her secret; and—and I wrote her a note to tell her so. You would not understand if I said any more; but—but immediately after morning school she—she was false to me; utterly45 false. You ask her when you see her how she received that letter I wrote to her at the risk of getting into terrible trouble myself. I have been angry, furious, beside myself; and now Miss Sherrard knows everything."
"You don't mean it?" said Carrie. Her florid face had turned perfectly46 white. She bit her lip and looked out of the window. After a time she looked back again at Kitty, and said slowly:
"You are very cruel, and you have ruined Elma; but after all it is partly my fault. I ought not to have taken that money. Now, look here, shall I tell you what I really came for to-day?"
"If you would do so quickly and then go."
"You won't be in such a hurry to part from me when you know the truth. Now, then, listen. You want some money; I think I see a way to getting it for you."
"Do you really?"
"Yes, I do; that is, if you on your part will do what I want."
"I will do anything to get the money. I want to send it to Laurie if I can this evening. There's nothing I would not give you."
"I will remember that small promise presently," said Carrie in a frank voice. "But now let me tell you what my plan is. You have a great many clothes, have you not?"
"Yes; but please don't bother me about them now. I was always fond of pretty dress; but I should not care if I had to wear rags at the present moment if only I might get that eight pounds."
"If them's your sentiments," said Carrie, "you very soon can have your wish."
"What in the world do you mean?"
"Why, this. If you'll just allow me to take the pick of your wardrobe I can take away the things and sell them. I'll soon bring back the eight pounds—yes, and for that matter ten too."
"Sell my clothes?" said Kitty. She stared at the other girl as if she did not believe the evidence of her own senses.
"Yes. Did you never hear of a pawnshop, you dear little wiseacre?"
"A pawnshop! Do you think I would allow my clothes to go to a pawnshop?"
"I know nothing whatever about it; but I make you the proposal. I will transact48 the business for you if you'll allow me ten per cent, upon it. I can get you the money."
"Oh, Carrie, it seems such a bitter shame," said Kitty. Her face was crimson49; she went to the other side of the room, opened the window and put out her head. She wanted the cool air to soothe50 her scorched51 cheeks; her heart was thumping52 in her breast. Had matters indeed come to this, that she, Kitty Malone, was to pawn47 her pretty dresses, her trinkets, her whatnots! Alas53! she could not do it.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
squire
|
|
| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
grumbling
|
|
| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
irritation
|
|
| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
ruffles
|
|
| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
abashed
|
|
| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
buckle
|
|
| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
plentiful
|
|
| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
specimen
|
|
| n.样本，标本 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
invalid
|
|
| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
scramble
|
|
| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
betokened
|
|
| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
aspire
|
|
| vi.(to，after)渴望，追求，有志于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
grumble
|
|
| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
horrid
|
|
| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
brats
|
|
| n.调皮捣蛋的孩子( brat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
consolations
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问( consolation的名词复数 )；起安慰作用的人（或事物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
refinement
|
|
| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
spike
|
|
| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
dubious
|
|
| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
steward
|
|
| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
harp
|
|
| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
forefinger
|
|
| n.食指 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
larks
|
|
| n.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的名词复数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了v.百灵科鸟（尤指云雀）( lark的第三人称单数 )；一大早就起床；鸡鸣即起；（因太费力而不想干时说）算了 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
blurted
|
|
| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
pawn
|
|
| n.典当，抵押，小人物，走卒；v.典当，抵押 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
transact
|
|
| v.处理；做交易；谈判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
crimson
|
|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
soothe
|
|
| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
scorched
|
|
| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
thumping
|
|
| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |