Who should I find in the drawing-room, talking fluently and smiling, after his wont2, to old Lady Chelford, who seemed to receive him very graciously, for her at least, but Captain Stanley Lake!
I can’t quite describe to you the odd and unpleasant sort of surprise which that very gentlemanlike figure, standing3 among the Brandon household gods at this moment, communicated to me. I thought of the few odd words and looks that had dropped from Wylder about him with an ominous4 pang5 as I looked, and I felt somehow as if there were some occult relation between that confused prelude6 of Wylder’s and the Mephistophelean image that had risen up almost upon the spot where it was spoken. I glanced round for Wylder, but he was not there.
‘You know Captain Lake?’ said Lord Chelford, addressing me.
And Lake turned round upon me, a little abruptly7, his odd yellowish eyes, a little like those of the sea-eagle, and the ghost of his smile that flickered8 on his singularly pale face, with a stern and insidious9 look, confronted me. There was something evil and shrinking in his aspect, which I felt with a sort of chill, like the commencing fascination10 of a serpent. I often thought since that he had expected to see Wylder before him.
The church-yard meteor expired, there was nothing in a moment but his ordinary smile of recognition.
‘You’re surprised to see me here,’ he said in his very pleasing low tones.
‘I lighted on him in the village; and I knew Miss Brandon would not forgive me if I allowed him to go away without coming here. (He had his hand upon Lake’s shoulder.) They are cousins, you know; we are all cousins. I’m bad at genealogies11. My mother could tell us all about it — we, Brandons, Lakes; Wylders, and Chelfords.’
At this moment Miss Brandon entered, with her brilliant Cousin Rachel. The blonde and the dark, it was a dazzling contrast.
So Chelford led Stanley Lake before the lady of the castle. I thought of the ‘Fair Brunnisende,’ with the captive knight12 in the hands of her seneschal before her, and I fancied he said something of having found him trespassing13 in her town, and brought him up for judgment14. Whatever Lord Chelford said, Miss Brandon received it very graciously, and even with a momentary15 smile. I wonder she did not smile oftener, it became her so. But her greeting to Captain Lake was more than usually haughty16 and frozen, and her features, I fancied, particularly proud and pale. It seemed to me to indicate a great deal more than mere17 indifference18 — something of aversion, and nearer to a positive emotion than anything I had yet seen in that exquisitely19 apathetic20 face.
How was it that this man with the yellow eyes seemed to gleam from them an influence of pain or disturbance21, wherever almost he looked.
‘Shake hands with your cousin, my dear,’ said old Lady Chelford, peremptorily22. The little scene took place close to her chair; and upon this stage direction the little piece of by-play took place, and the young lady coldly touched the captain’s hand, and passed on.
Young as he was, Stanley Lake was an old man of the world, not to be disconcerted, and never saw more than exactly suited him. Waiting in the drawing-room, I had some entertaining talk with Miss Lake. Her conversation was lively, and rather bold, not at all in the coarse sense, but she struck me as having formed a system of ethics23 and views of life, both good-humoured and sarcastic24, and had carried into her rustic25 sequestration the melancholy26 and precocious27 lore28 of her early London experience.
When Lord Chelford joined us, I perceived that Wylder was in the room, and saw a very cordial greeting between him and Lake. The captain appeared quite easy and cheerful; but Mark, I thought, notwithstanding his laughter and general jollity, was uncomfortable; and I saw him once or twice, when Stanley’s eye was not upon him, glance sharply on the young man with an uneasy and not very friendly curiosity.
At dinner Lake was easy and amusing. That meal passed off rather pleasantly; and when we joined the ladies in the drawing-room, the good vicar’s enthusiastic little wife came to meet us, in one of her honest little raptures29.
‘Now, here’s a thing worth your looking at! Did you ever see anything so bee-utiful in your life? It is such a darling little thing; and — look now — is not it magnificent?’
She arrested the file of gentlemen just by a large lamp, before whose effulgence30 she presented the subject of her eulogy31 — one of those costly32 trifles which announce the approach of Hymen, as flowers spring up before the rosy33 steps of May.
Well, it was pretty — French, I dare say — a little set of tablets — a toy — the cover of enamel34, studded in small jewels, with a slender border of symbolic35 flowers, and with a heart in the centre, a mosaic36 of little carbuncles, rubies37, and other red and crimson38 stones, placed with a view to light and shade.
‘Exquisite, indeed!’ said Lord Chelford. ‘Is this yours, Mrs. Wylder?’
‘Mine, indeed!’ laughed poor little Mrs. Dorothy. ‘Well, dear me, no, indeed;’— and in an earnest whisper close in his ear —‘a present to Miss Brandon, and the donor39 is not a hundred miles away from your elbow, my lord!’ and she winked40 slyly, and laughed, with a little nod at Wylder.
‘Oh! I see — to be sure — really, Wylder, it does your taste infinite credit.’
‘I’m glad you like it,’ says Wylder, chuckling41 benignantly on it, over his shoulder. ‘I believe I have a little taste that way; those are all real, you know, those jewels.’
‘Oh, yes! of course. Have you seen it, Captain Lake?’ And he placed it in that gentleman’s fingers, who now took his turn at the lamp, and contemplated42 the little parallelogram with a gleam of sly amusement.
‘What are you laughing at?’ asked Wylder, a little snappishly.
‘I was thinking it’s very like the ace of hearts,’ answered the captain softly, smiling on.
‘Fie, Lake, there’s no poetry in you,’ said Lord Chelford, laughing.
‘Well, now, though, really it is funny; it did not strike me before, but do you know, now, it is,’ laughs out jolly Mrs. Dolly, ‘isn’t it. Look at it, do, Mr. Wylder — isn’t it like the ace of hearts?’
Wylder was laughing rather redly, with the upper part of his face very surly, I thought.
‘Never mind, Wylder, it’s the winning card,’ said Lord Chelford, laying his hand on his shoulder.
Whereupon Lake laughed quietly, still looking on the ace of hearts with his sly eyes.
And Wylder laughed too, more suddenly and noisily than the humour of the joke seemed quite to call for, and glanced a grim look from the corners of his eyes on Lake, but the gallant43 captain did not seem to perceive it; and after a few seconds more he handed it very innocently back to Mrs. Dorothy, only remarking —
‘Seriously, it is very pretty, and appropriate.’
And Wylder, making no remark, helped himself to a cup of coffee, and then to a glass of Cura?oa, and then looked industriously44 at a Spanish quarto of Don Quixote, and lastly walked over to me on the hearthrug.
‘What the d — has he come down here for? It can’t be for money, or balls, or play, and he has no honest business anywhere. Do you know?’
‘Lake? Oh! I really can’t tell; but he’ll soon tire of country life. I don’t think he’s much of a sportsman.’
‘Ha, isn’t he? I don’t know anything about him almost; but I hate him.’
‘Why should you, though? He’s a very gentlemanlike fellow and your cousin.’
‘My cousin — the Devil’s cousin — everyone’s cousin. I don’t know who’s my cousin, or who isn’t; nor you don’t, who’ve been for ten years over those d — d papers; but I think he’s the nastiest dog I ever met. I took a dislike to him at first sight long ago, and that never happened me but I was right.’
Wylder looked confoundedly angry and flustered45, standing with his heels on the edge of the rug, his hands in his pockets, jingling46 some silver there, and glancing from under his red forehead sternly and unsteadily across the room.
‘He’s not a man for country quarters! he’ll soon be back in town, or to Brighton,’ I said.
‘If he doesn’t, I will. That’s all.’
Just to get him off this unpleasant groove47 with a little jolt48, I said —
‘By-the-bye, Wylder, you know the pictures here; who is the tall man, with the long pale face, and wild phosphoric eyes? I was always afraid of him; in a long peruke, and dark red velvet49 coat, facing the hall-door. I had a horrid50 dream about him last night.’
‘That? Oh, I know — that’s Lorne Brandon. He was one of our family devils, he was. A devil in a family now and then is not such a bad thing, when there’s work for him.’ (All the time he was talking to me his angry little eyes were following Lake.) ‘They say he killed his son, a blackguard, who was found shot, with his face in the tarn51 in the park. He was going to marry the gamekeeper’s daughter, it was thought, and he and the old boy, who was for high blood, and all that, were at loggerheads about it. It was not proved, only thought likely, which showed what a nice character he was; but he might have done worse. I suppose Miss Partridge would have had a precious lot of babbies; and who knows where the estate would have been by this time.’
‘I believe, Charlie,’ he recommenced suddenly, ‘there is not such an unnatural52 family on record as ours; is there? Ha, ha, ha! It’s well to be distinguished53 in any line. I forget all the other good things he did; but he ended by shooting himself through the head in his bed-room, and that was not the worst thing ever he did.’
And Wylder laughed again, and began to whistle very low — not, I fancy, for want of thought, but as a sort of accompaniment thereto, for he suddenly said —
‘And where is he staying?’
‘Who? — Lake?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t know; but I think he mentioned Larkins’s house, didn’t he? I’m not quite sure.’
‘I suppose he this I’m made of money. By Jove! if he wants to borrow any I’ll surprise him, the cur; I’ll talk to him; ha, ha, ha!’
And Wylder chuckled54 angrily, and the small change in his pocket tinkled55 fiercely, as his eye glanced on the graceful56 captain, who was entertaining the ladies, no doubt, very agreeably in the distance.
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1
ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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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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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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9
insidious
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| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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genealogies
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| n.系谱，家系，宗谱( genealogy的名词复数 ) | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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trespassing
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| [法]非法入侵 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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apathetic
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| adj.冷漠的，无动于衷的 | |
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disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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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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precocious
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| adj.早熟的；较早显出的 | |
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lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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29
raptures
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| 极度欢喜( rapture的名词复数 ) | |
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effulgence
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| n.光辉 | |
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eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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32
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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mosaic
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| n./adj.镶嵌细工的，镶嵌工艺品的，嵌花式的 | |
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rubies
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| 红宝石( ruby的名词复数 )； 红宝石色，深红色 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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donor
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| n.捐献者；赠送人；(组织、器官等的)供体 | |
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40
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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41
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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42
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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43
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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44
industriously
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45
flustered
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| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
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46
jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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47
groove
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| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
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48
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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49
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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50
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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51
tarn
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| n.山中的小湖或小潭 | |
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52
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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53
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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54
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
tinkled
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| （使）发出丁当声，（使）发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 )； 叮当响着发出，铃铃响着报出 | |
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56
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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