“I think you know who we are,” she said a little suddenly and haughtily2.
“You are at present living at Malory, I believe,” said he, with a respectful evasion3.
“Yes; but I mean who we are,” said Margaret, very pale, very proud, and with her splendid hazel eyes fixed4 full upon him with the irresistible5 inspiration of truth.
“I have heard — in part accidentally — something.”
“Yes,” said the girl; “you are Mr. Cleve Verney, and my name is Fanshawe; and my father, Sir Booth Fanshawe, is at present living at Malory.”
“My dear! are you mad?” gasped6 Miss Sheckleton aghast.
“Yes. We are the people who live at Malory, and my father had hoped that he might have escaped there the observation of all but the very few persons who take a friendly interest in him. The place was looked out and taken for us by a person of whom we know nothing — a clergyman, I believe. I have now, for the first time, learned from that gravestone to whom the place belongs. We know nothing of the townspeople or of neighbours. We have lived to ourselves; and if he had known that Malory belonged to the Verneys, I hope you believe he would neither have been mad or mean enough to come here, to live in the house of his enemies.”
“Oh, Margaret! Margaret! you have ruined your father,” said poor Miss Sheckleton, pale as a ghost, and with her trembling fingers in the air.
“I assure you, Miss Fanshawe,” said Cleve, “you do me a cruel injustice7, when you class me with Sir Booth Fanshawe’s enemies. There have been those miserable8 money matters, in which I never had, nor could have had, any influence whatsoever9. And there has been political hostility10, in which I have been the victim rather than the aggressor. Of course, I’ve had to fight my battles as best I could; but I’ve never done anything unfair or unmanly. You plainly think me a personal enemy of Sir Booth’s. It pains me that you do so. In the sense in which you seem to think it, I never was, nor in any sense could I continue to be so, in his present — his present —”
The young man hesitated for a word or a paraphrase12 to convey a painful meaning without offence.
“His present ruin, and his approaching exile,” said the young lady.
“I’m sure, sir, what you say is exactly so,” pleaded poor Miss Sheckleton, nervously13. “It was, as you say, all about elections, and that kind of thing, which, with him, you know, never can be again. So, I’m sure, the feeling is all over. Isn’t it, Mr. Verney?”
“I don’t think it matters much,” said the young lady, in the same tone of haughty14 defiance15. “I don’t — girls, I believe, never do understand business and politics. All I know is this — that my father has been ruined. My father has been ruined, and that, I hope, will satisfy his enemies. I know he thinks, and other people think — people in no way mixed up in his affairs — people who are impartial— that it was the cruelty and oppression of Mr. Kiffyn Verney, your uncle, I think you say — that drove him to ruin. Well, you now know that my father is at Malory.”
“He does, darling. We may be overheard,” said Miss Sheckleton in an imploring16 tremor17.
But the young lady continued in the same clear tone —
“I can’t say what is considered fair and manly11, as you say, in political enmity; but, seeing what it has done, I have no reason to believe it very scrupulous18 or very merciful; therefore, with some diffidence, I ask only, whether you can promise that he shall not be molested19 for a few days, until some other refuge shall have been provided for us? And when we shall have left England for ever, you will have no more to fear from my father, and can afford, I think, to forget his name.”
There was a kind of contradiction here, or rather one of those discords20 which our sense of harmony requires, and mysteriously delights in-for while her language was toned with something of the anguish21 of pleading, her mien22 and look were those of a person dictating23 terms to the vanquished24. Had she but known all, they might have been inspired by the workings of his heart. Her colour had returned more brilliantly, her large eyes gleamed, and her beautiful eyebrow25 wore that anguine curve which is the only approach to a scowl26 which painters accord to angels. Thus, though her tones were pathetic, she stood like a beautiful image of Victory.
In the silence that followed, Cleve stood before her for a moment confounded. Too many feelings were on a sudden set in motion by this girl’s harangue28, to find a distinct resultant in words. His pride was stung — something of anger was stirred within him; his finer sympathies, too, were moved, and a deeper feeling still.
“I’m afraid you think me a very mean person, indeed,” said Cleve. “To no one, not to my uncle, not to any living person, will I so much as hint that I know anything of Sir Booth Fanshawe’s present place of abode29. I don’t think that we men are ever quite understood by you. I hope that is it. I hope it is not that you entertain a particularly ill opinion of me. I haven’t deserved it, you’ll find I never shall. I hope you will employ me. I hope, Miss Sheckleton, you will employ me, whenever, in any way, you think I can be of use. Your having, although I know it is perfectly30 accidental, come to Malory, places me under a kind of obligation, I wish you would allow me to think so, of hospitality; there is no room for generosity31 here; it would be a misplaced phrase; but I wish, very much, that you would put my goodwill32 to the proof, and rely upon my fidelity33; only give me a trial.”
I believe that every one who is speaking all in earnest, and, for the moment, quite from a good impulse, looks more beautiful in that momentary34 light of paradise, and certainly no handsomer young fellow, to my mind, could have been imagined than Cleve Verney, as he stood uncovered before the beautiful stranger, and pleaded for her good opinion.
The young lady was silent, and looked at Miss Sheckleton, as if deputing her to answer, and then looked away.
“You’re very kind. I know you won’t deceive us, Mr. Verney,” said Miss Sheckleton, with an imploring look, and laying her hand unconsciously upon his arm. “I am sure you won’t disappoint us; but it is a great difficulty; you’ve no idea, for Sir Booth feels very strongly, and in fact we don’t mention the name of your family to him; and I’m sure — indeed I know— if he were aware that Malory was Verney property, he would never have come here, and if I were to tell him, he would leave it at once. It was a very old friend, Lord Hammerdon, who employed a clergyman, a Mr. Dixie, I think, a friend of his, to look out a suitable place in a very quiet neighbourhood; and so, without making — without, indeed, the power of making inquiry35, we came down here, and have just made the discovery — two discoveries, indeed — for not only does the place belong to your family, but you, Mr. Verney are aware that Sir Booth is here.”
“Sir Booth will do me the justice to trust my word. I assure you — I swear to you — no mortal shall learn the secret of his residence from me. I hope Miss Fanshawe believes me. I’m sure you do, Miss Sheckleton,” said Cleve.
“We are both very much obliged,” said the old lady.
The girl’s eyes were lowered. Cleve thought she made just a perceptible inclination36 to intimate her acquiescence37. It was clear, however, that her fears were satisfied. She raised her eyes, and they rested on him for a moment with a grave and even melancholy38 gaze, in which — was there confidence? That momentary, almost unconscious glance, was averted39, but Cleve felt unaccountably happy and even proud.
“It is then understood,” said he, “that I am not to charge myself with having caused, however unintentionally, any disturbance40 or embarrassment41 of your plans. Do you think — it would give me so much pleasure — that I might venture to call upon Sir Booth Fanshawe, to make him in person that offer of my humble42 services, in any way in which he might please to employ me, which I have already tendered to you?”
He saw the young lady turn an alarmed glance upon her companion, and press her hand slightly on her arm, and the old lady said quickly —
“Not for the world! Nothing would vex43 him more. That is, I mean, it is better he should not think that he has been recognised; he is impetuous, and, as you must know, a little fiery, and just now is suffering, and, in fact, I should not venture, although I need not say, I quite appreciate the feeling, and thank you very much.”
A silence followed this little speech. The subject that had engrossed44 and excited the little party, was for the present exhausted45, and no one was ready at the moment to start another.
“We have detained you here, most unreasonably46, Mr. Verney, I’m afraid,” said Miss Sheckleton, glancing towards the door. “The evenings have grown so short, and our boatman said we should be longer returning; and I think we should have been on our way home before now.”
“I only wish you would allow me to set you down at Malory, in my boat, but I know that would not do, so you must allow me to see you on board your own.”
More time had passed, a great deal, during this odd scene, than it takes to read this note of it. When they stepped forth47 from the door of the tenebrous little church, the mellow48 light of sunset was streaming along the broken pavement and grass, and glowing on the gray walls and ivy49 of the old building.
Margaret Fanshawe was very silent all the way down to the little stone pier50, at which the boat was moored51. But the old lady had quite recovered her garrulous52 good spirits and energy. There was something likeable and even winning in Miss Anne Sheckleton, sixty years though she looked. She did not hide her gray locks; they were parted smoothly53 over her intelligent forehead, and in her clear, pleasant face you could see at times a little gleam of waggery, and sometimes the tenderness of sentiment. So that there remained with her that inextinguishable youth of spirit that attracts to the last.
Cleve was not one of those fellows who don’t understand even so much self-denial as is necessary to commend them to old ladies on occasion. He was wiser. He walked beside her slight figure and light firm step, talking agreeably, with now and then a stolen glance at the silent girl. Miss Sheckleton was an old woman such as I love. Such as remains54 young at three score, and is active still with youthful interests, and a vein55 of benevolent56 romance.
And now they stood at the gunwale of the boat, and Miss Sheckleton smiling a little anxiously, gave him her hand at parting.
“May I?” said he, in a tone respectful and even melancholy, at the same time, extending his hand with hesitation57 toward the young lady beside him.
There was a little motion in her hand, as if she would have shut or withdrawn58 it, but she looked at him with grave eyes; was there doubt in them, or was there confidence? and gave him her hand too, with a sad look. There was one strong violent throb59 at his heart as he pressed that slender gauge60; and then it seemed to stand still for a moment; and he heard the evening breeze among the leaves, like a sigh along the shore. Was it an omen27?
The next moment he was standing61 alone, with his hat in his hand, smiling and waving an adieu over the glittering waves to the receding62 boat.
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1
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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3
evasion
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| n.逃避，偷漏(税) | |
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4
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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6
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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7
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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8
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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9
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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10
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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11
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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12
paraphrase
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| vt.将…释义，改写；n.释义，意义 | |
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13
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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14
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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15
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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16
imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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18
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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19
molested
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| v.骚扰( molest的过去式和过去分词 )；干扰；调戏；猥亵 | |
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20
discords
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| 不和（discord的复数形式） | |
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21
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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23
dictating
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的现在分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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24
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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25
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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26
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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27
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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28
harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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29
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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30
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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31
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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32
goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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33
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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34
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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35
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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36
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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37
acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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38
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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39
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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40
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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41
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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42
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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43
vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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44
engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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45
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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46
unreasonably
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| adv. 不合理地 | |
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47
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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48
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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49
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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50
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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51
moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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52
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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53
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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54
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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55
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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56
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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57
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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58
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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59
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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60
gauge
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| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
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61
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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62
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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