"Oh, if you please, miss, I want to settle my little account. Oh, dear, dear! I was certain I had half-a-crown in my purse. Well, to be sure, I forgot that Dove took it with him when he went out to his work this morning. Please, Miss Mainwaring, will you accept one and sixpence on account, and we'll settle the rest in an hour or two. There, miss, that's quite comfortable."
Yes, the arrangement was certainly quite comfortable for Mrs. Dove, who could score out the half-crown debt from her slate10, and quite stare when Primrose ventured to ask her for the odd shilling still owing.
Still, incredible as it may sound, Mrs. Dove considered herself a strictly11 honest woman. Perhaps, had the girls only to deal with her they might have struggled on, badly, it is true, but still after a fashion. But, alas and alas! if Mrs. Dove considered herself honest, Mr. Dove did not pretend to lay claim to this very excellent quality. Poor Primrose little guessed that that lost five-pound note, which had given her such trouble, and which had almost brought gray hairs to her bright yellow head, had been really taken by Dove, who had come up to the attics12 when the girls were away, had quietly taken the hinges off Primrose's trunk at the back, had lifted the lid, and had helped himself neatly14 and deftly15 to that solitary16 note!
When the girls discovered their loss no one had been more indignant than Dove. He had come up himself to speak to them about it, had examined the trunk in their presence, had told them that he had a cousin of his own in the detective business whom he would put on the scent17 of the thief, and in the meantime he'd be very pleased, although he was a remarkably18 poor man, to lend the young ladies ten shillings.
Although they would not think of accepting his loan, the girls thought that Dove had behaved rather kindly19 on this occasion, and they certainly never in the least suspected it was into his pocket their money had gone.
Without being at all, therefore, to blame, poor Primrose found herself, as Christmas approached, and the days grew short and cold, with very little money in her possession; of course, her quarter's allowance would soon be due, but some days before it came she had broken into her last sovereign. Still, she had a resource which her sisters had forgotten, and which, luckily for her, Dove knew nothing at all about—she still had that letter of Mr. Danesfield's. She had never opened it, but she always kept it safely locked up in her trunk. Not for worlds would she yet break the seal—no, no, this letter was meant for an hour of great need. Primrose fondly and proudly hoped that that dark and dreadful hour would never approach and that, having won success, she and her sisters might yet return the letter unopened to its kind donor20. In these dark days before Christmas she kept up her heart, and worked hard at her china-painting, achieving sufficient success and power over her art to enable her to produce some pretty, but, alas! as yet unsaleable articles. Mr. Jones, her master, assured her, however, that her goods must ere long find a market, and she struggled on bravely.
Perhaps, on the whole, Jasmine was more tried by her present life than her sister. Jasmine's was a more highly-strung temperament21; she could be more easily depressed22 and more easily elated—hers was the kind of nature which pours forth23 its sweetest and best in sunshine; did the cold blasts of adversity blow too keenly on this rather tropical little flower, then no expansion would come to the beautiful blossoms, and the young life would fail to fulfil its promise. Jasmine was never meant by nature to be poor; she had been born in Italy, and something of the languor24 and the love of ease and beauty of her birthplace seemed always to linger round her. She had talents—under certain conditions she might even have developed genius, but in no sense of the word was she hardy25; where Primrose could endure, and even conquer, Jasmine might die.
The little sister, who was too young to acutely feel any change which did not part her from Primrose and Jasmine, was, perhaps, the only one of the three whose spirits were on a par26 with what they were in the old Rosebury days; but although Daisy's little mind remained tranquil27, and she did not trouble herself about ways and means, nor greatly fret28 over the fact that the skies were leaden, and the attic13 room foggy, still Daisy also suffered in her rather delicate little body. She caught cold in the London fogs, and the cold brought on a cough, and the cough produced loss of appetite. The two elder sisters, however, were scarcely as yet uneasy about her, and it was only Miss Egerton who saw the likeness29 to little Constance growing and growing in Daisy's sweet face. Thus Christmas drew near, and the girls had not yet found their mission in life; they were by no means crushed, however, nor was Primrose tired of repeating what she firmly believed, that with the New Year some of the sunshine of London life would be theirs.
The quarterly allowance from Mr. Danesfield always arrived on the first of the month. On the first of December this year the welcome letter, with its still more welcome enclosure, was duly received. The girls celebrated30 the event with a little breakfast feast—they ate water-cresses, and Primrose and Jasmine had a sardine31 each to add flavor to their bread and butter. Whatever happened, Daisy always had her fresh egg, which she shared with the Pink, for the Pink had been brought up daintily, and appreciated the tops of fresh eggs. On this occasion Mrs. Dove herself brought up Primrose's letter. Letters came so seldom to the girls that Mrs. Dove felt it quite excusable to gaze very hard at the inscription32, to study the name of the post town which had left its mark on the envelope, and lingering a little in the room, under cover of talking to Jasmine, to watch Primrose's face as she opened the cover.
"It is from Mr. Danesfield, is it not, Primrose?" exclaimed Jasmine—"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Dove; no I didn't much care for that new story which is begun in The Downfall."
Mrs. Dove had a habit of dropping little curtseys when she meant to be particularly deferential—she now dropped three in succession, and said in a high-pitched, and rather biting voice—
"It isn't to be expected that the opinions of young ladies and of women who have gone through their world of experience, and therefore know what's what, should coincide. I leave you ladies three to read your refreshing33 news from absent friends."
Mrs. Dove then turned her back, and meekly34 shutting the door behind her, left the girls to themselves.
"Them attics have become rather too uppish for my taste," she said to Dove when she got downstairs. "I took them a letter just now, and, my word! they had not eyes nor ears for me, though I toiled35 up all the weary stairs, which my shortness of breath don't agree to. It wasn't even 'Thank you very much, Mrs. Dove,' but all three of them, their eyes was fixed36 on the letter as if they'd eat it. It's my belief, Dove, that they're short of funds, for when I went yesterday to ask for the trifling37 loan of tenpence three-farthings to pay the cobbler for Tommy's boots, Miss Mainwaring said, as pretty as you please, but very prim2 and firm—'I haven't really got the money, Mrs. Dove.' Well, well, I've done a deal for those girls—elbow grease I've given them, and thought I've given them, and books for the improving of their intellecs I've lent them, and that's all the return I get, that when I bring up a letter it isn't even 'Thank you, Mrs. Dove.' What I say is this, Dove, shall I give the attics notice to quit?"
"By no manner of means," answered Dove—"you mark my words, Mrs. Dove, my only love, that why they were so flurried over the letter just received was because there was money in it. Don't you turn away nice, genteel, quiet-spoken young ladies from this house. There's most likely a postal38 order in that letter, and my name ain't Dove if I don't get my gleanings from it."
"Oh, fie, Dove! you will have your joke," answered his wife; but she said nothing further about giving the Mainwarings notice to quit.
点击收听单词发音
1 primrose | |
n.樱草,最佳部分, | |
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2 prim | |
adj.拘泥形式的,一本正经的;n.循规蹈矩,整洁;adv.循规蹈矩地,整洁地 | |
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3 contriving | |
(不顾困难地)促成某事( contrive的现在分词 ); 巧妙地策划,精巧地制造(如机器); 设法做到 | |
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4 entrusted | |
v.委托,托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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5 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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6 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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7 pilfer | |
v.盗,偷,窃 | |
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8 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
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9 emphatic | |
adj.强调的,着重的;无可置疑的,明显的 | |
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10 slate | |
n.板岩,石板,石片,石板色,候选人名单;adj.暗蓝灰色的,含板岩的;vt.用石板覆盖,痛打,提名,预订 | |
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11 strictly | |
adv.严厉地,严格地;严密地 | |
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12 attics | |
n. 阁楼 | |
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13 attic | |
n.顶楼,屋顶室 | |
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14 neatly | |
adv.整洁地,干净地,灵巧地,熟练地 | |
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15 deftly | |
adv.灵巧地,熟练地,敏捷地 | |
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16 solitary | |
adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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17 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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18 remarkably | |
ad.不同寻常地,相当地 | |
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19 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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20 donor | |
n.捐献者;赠送人;(组织、器官等的)供体 | |
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21 temperament | |
n.气质,性格,性情 | |
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22 depressed | |
adj.沮丧的,抑郁的,不景气的,萧条的 | |
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23 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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24 languor | |
n.无精力,倦怠 | |
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25 hardy | |
adj.勇敢的,果断的,吃苦的;耐寒的 | |
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26 par | |
n.标准,票面价值,平均数量;adj.票面的,平常的,标准的 | |
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27 tranquil | |
adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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28 fret | |
v.(使)烦恼;(使)焦急;(使)腐蚀,(使)磨损 | |
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29 likeness | |
n.相像,相似(之处) | |
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30 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
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31 sardine | |
n.[C]沙丁鱼 | |
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32 inscription | |
n.(尤指石块上的)刻印文字,铭文,碑文 | |
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33 refreshing | |
adj.使精神振作的,使人清爽的,使人喜欢的 | |
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34 meekly | |
adv.温顺地,逆来顺受地 | |
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35 toiled | |
长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 ); 艰难缓慢地移动,跋涉 | |
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36 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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37 trifling | |
adj.微不足道的;没什么价值的 | |
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38 postal | |
adj.邮政的,邮局的 | |
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