She was a woman indeed of many purposes; another of which was that on leaving Oxford the boy should travel and inform himself: she belonged to the age that regarded a foreign tour not as a hasty dip, but as a deliberate plunge6. Still another had for its main feature that on his final return he should marry the nicest girl she knew: that too would be a deliberate plunge, a plunge that would besprinkle his mother. It would do with the question what it was Mrs. Beever’s inveterate7 household practice to do with all loose and unarranged objects it would get it out of the way. There would have been difficulty in saying whether it was a feeling for peace or for war, but her constant habit was to lay the ground bare for complications that as yet at least had never taken place. Her life was like a room prepared for a dance: the furniture was all against the walls. About the young lady in question she was perfectly8 definite; the nicest girl she knew was Jean Martle, whom she had just sent for at Brighton to come and perform in that character. The performance was to be for the benefit of Paul, whose midsummer return was at hand and in whom the imagination oi alternatives was to be discouraged from the first. It was on the whole a comfort to Mrs. Beever that he had little imagination of anything.
Jean Martle, condemned9 to Brighton by a father who was Mrs. Beever’s second cousin and whom the doctors, the great men in London, kept there, as this lady opined, because he was too precious wholly to lose and too boring often to see Jean Martle would probably some day have money and would possibly some day have sense: even as regards a favoured candidate this marked the extent of Mrs. Beever’s somewhat dry expectations. They were addressed in a subordinate degree to the girl’s “playing,” which was depended on to become brilliant, and to her hair, which was viewed in the light of a hope that it would with the lapse10 of years grow darker. Wilverley, in truth, would never know if she played ill; but it had an old-fashioned prejudice against loud shades in the natural cover ing of the head. One of the things his cousin had been invited for was that Paul should get used to her eccentric colour a colour of which, on a certain bright Sunday of July, Mrs. Beever noted11 afresh, with some alarm, the exaggerated pitch. Her young friend had arrived two days before and now during the elastic12 interval13 from church to luncheon14 had been despatched to Bounds with a message and some preliminary warnings. Jean knew that she should find there a house in some confusion, a new-born little girl, the first, a young mother not yet “ up,” and an odd visitor, somewhat older than herself, in the person of Miss Armiger, a school-friend of Mrs. Bream, who had made her appearance a month before that of the child and had stayed on, as Mrs. Beever with some emphasis put it, “ right through everything.”
This picture of the situation had filled, after the first hour or two, much of the time of the two ladies, but it had originally included for Jean no particular portrait of the head of the family an omission15 in some degree repaired, however, by the chance of Mrs. Beever’s having on the Saturday morning taken her for a moment into the Bank. They had had errands in the town, and Mrs. Beever had wished to speak to Mr. Bream, a brilliant, joking gentleman, who, instantly succumbing16 to their invasion and turning out a confidential17 clerk, had received them in his beautiful private room. “ Shall I like him? ” Jean, with the sense of a widening circle, had, before this, adventurously18 asked. “ Oh, yes, if you notice him! ” Mrs. Beever had replied in obedience19 to an odd private prompting to mark him as insignificant20. Later on, at the Bank, the girl noticed him enough to feel rather afraid of him: that was always with her the foremost result of being noticed herself. If Mrs. Beever passed him over, this was in part to be accounted for by all that at Eastmead was usually taken for granted. The queen-mother, as Anthony Bream kept up the jest of calling her, would not have found it easy to paint off-hand a picture of the allied21 sovereign whom she was apt to regard as a somewhat restless vassal22. Though he was a dozen years older than the happy young prince on whose behalf she exercised her regency, she had known him from his boyhood, and his strong points and his weak were alike an old story to her.
His house was new he had on his marriage, at a vast expense, made it quite violently so. His wife and his child were new; new also in a marked degree was the young woman who had lately taken up her abode23 with him and who had the air of intending to remain till she should lose that quality. But Tony himself this had always been his name to her was intensely familiar. Never doubting that he was a subject she had mastered, Mrs. Beever had no impulse to clear up her view by distributing her impressions. These impressions were as neatly24 pigeon-holed as her correspondence and her accounts neatly, at least, save in so far as they were besprinkled with the dust of time. One of them might have been freely rendered into a hint that her young partner was a possible source of danger to her own sex. Not to her personally, of course; for herself, somehow, Mrs. Beever was not of her own sex. If she had been a woman she never thought of herself so loosely she would, in spite of her age, have doubtless been conscious of peril25. She now recognised none in life except that of Paul’s marrying wrong, against which she had taken early measures. It would have been a misfortune therefore to feel a flaw in a security otherwise so fine. Was not perhaps the fact that she had a vague sense of exposure for Jean Martle a further motive26 for her not expatiating27 to that young lady on Anthony Bream? If any such sense operated, I hasten to add, it operated without Jean’s having mentioned that at the Bank he had struck her as formidable.
Let me not fail equally to declare that Mrs. Beever’s general suspicion of him, as our sad want of signs for shades and degrees condemns28 me to call it, rested on nothing in the nature of evidence. If she had ever really uttered it she might have been brought up rather short on the question of grounds. There were certainly, at any rate, no grounds in Tony’s having, before church, sent a word over to her on the subject of their coming to luncheon. “Dear Julia, this morning, is really grand,” he had written. “ We’ve just managed to move to her downstairs room, where they’ve put up a lovely bed and where the sight of all her things cheers and amuses her, to say nothing of the wide immediate29 outlook at her garden and her own corner of the terrace. In short the waves are going down and we’re beginning to have our meals ‘ regular.’ Luncheon may be rather late, but do bring over your charming little friend. How she lighted up yesterday my musty den5! There will be another little friend, by the way not of mine, but of Rose Armiger’s, the young man to whom, as I think you know, she’s engaged to be married. He’s just back from China and comes down till tomorrow. Our
Sunday trains are such a bore that, having wired him to take the other line, I’m sending to meet him at Plumbury.” Mrs. Beever had no need to reflect on these few lines to be comfortably conscious that they summarised the nature of her neighbour down to the “ dashed sociability,” as she had heard the poor fellow, in sharp reactions, himself call it, that had made him scribble30 them and that always made him talk too much for a man in what, more than he, she held to be a “position.” He was there in his premature31 bustle32 over his wife’s slow recovery; he was there in his boyish impatience33 to improvise34 a feast; he was there in the simplicity35 with which he exposed himself to the depredations36, to the possible avalanche37, of Miss Armiger’s belong ings. He was there moreover in his free-handed way of sending six miles for a young man from China, and he was most of all there in his allusion38 to the probable lateness of luncheon. Many things in these days were new at the other house, but nothing was so new as the hours of meals. Mrs. Beever had of old repeatedly dined there on the stroke of six. It will be seen that, as I began with declaring, she kept her finger on the pulse of Bounds.
点击收听单词发音
1 solitude | |
n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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2 scramble | |
v.爬行,攀爬,杂乱蔓延,碎片,片段,废料 | |
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3 Oxford | |
n.牛津(英国城市) | |
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4 piers | |
n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 );(常设有娱乐场所的)突堤;柱子;墙墩 | |
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5 den | |
n.兽穴;秘密地方;安静的小房间,私室 | |
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6 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
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7 inveterate | |
adj.积习已深的,根深蒂固的 | |
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8 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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9 condemned | |
adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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10 lapse | |
n.过失,流逝,失效,抛弃信仰,间隔;vi.堕落,停止,失效,流逝;vt.使失效 | |
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11 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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12 elastic | |
n.橡皮圈,松紧带;adj.有弹性的;灵活的 | |
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13 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
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14 luncheon | |
n.午宴,午餐,便宴 | |
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15 omission | |
n.省略,删节;遗漏或省略的事物,冗长 | |
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16 succumbing | |
不再抵抗(诱惑、疾病、攻击等)( succumb的现在分词 ); 屈从; 被压垮; 死 | |
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17 confidential | |
adj.秘(机)密的,表示信任的,担任机密工作的 | |
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18 adventurously | |
adv.爱冒险地 | |
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19 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
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20 insignificant | |
adj.无关紧要的,可忽略的,无意义的 | |
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21 allied | |
adj.协约国的;同盟国的 | |
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22 vassal | |
n.附庸的;属下;adj.奴仆的 | |
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23 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
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24 neatly | |
adv.整洁地,干净地,灵巧地,熟练地 | |
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25 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
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26 motive | |
n.动机,目的;adv.发动的,运动的 | |
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27 expatiating | |
v.详述,细说( expatiate的现在分词 ) | |
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28 condemns | |
v.(通常因道义上的原因而)谴责( condemn的第三人称单数 );宣判;宣布…不能使用;迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
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29 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
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30 scribble | |
v.潦草地书写,乱写,滥写;n.潦草的写法,潦草写成的东西,杂文 | |
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31 premature | |
adj.比预期时间早的;不成熟的,仓促的 | |
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32 bustle | |
v.喧扰地忙乱,匆忙,奔忙;n.忙碌;喧闹 | |
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33 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
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34 improvise | |
v.即兴创作;临时准备,临时凑成 | |
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35 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
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36 depredations | |
n.劫掠,毁坏( depredation的名词复数 ) | |
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37 avalanche | |
n.雪崩,大量涌来 | |
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38 allusion | |
n.暗示,间接提示 | |
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