Mrs. Hamilton-Hamilton, the hostess of the night, was a patient of James Murchison’s, and Catherine’s more gracious comeliness6 came as a contrast to Mrs. Betty’s faylike glamour7. The Hamiltons were brewers, wealthy plebeians8 who had assimilated that lowest of all arts, the art of making money, without absorbing a culture that was of the same temper as their gold. Catherine had left her husband to his pipe and his books at Lombard Street. She had come to serve him, because as a doctor’s wife she knew the value of smart publicity9. In small towns trifles are of serious moment. Orthodoxy is in the ascendant, and individual singularity of opinion is considered to be “peculiar10.” A professional gentleman suspected of free thought may discover his social standing11 being damaged by the vicaress behind his back. Bigotry12 dies hard despite the broadening of our culture, and “eccentric” individuals may be ostracized13 by the sectarians of a town. Forms and formularies produce hypocrites. It is perilous14 for professional gentlemen to appear eccentric. Even if they abstain15 from lip service in person, their wives must be regular in helping16 to populate the parish pews.
Kate Murchison and Mrs. Betty passed and repassed each other in the vortex of many a waltz. To Parker Steel’s wife there was a prophetic triumph on the wind. She found herself calculating, as she chatted to her partners, how long these people would remain loyal to the surgeon of Lombard Street when his repute was damaged by the scandal at Boland’s Farm. Catherine had a peculiar interest for her that night, for Mrs. Betty’s hate was tempered by exultation17. She watched for the passing and repassing of Catherine’s aureole of shimmering18 hair, smiling to herself at the woman’s happy ignorance of the notoriety that threatened her husband’s name.
To Catherine also, with each sweep of the dance, came that olive-skinned and complacent19 face, whose eyes seemed ever on the watch for her. She caught the rattle4 of the dark woman’s persiflage20 as she drifted past to the moan of the violins. She remarked an exaggerated vivacity21 in Mrs. Betty’s manner, a something that suggested triumph with each nearness of their faces. Always the slightly cynical22 smile, the teeth glimmering23 between the lips; always that curious flash of the eyes, sudden and momentary24, like the flash of a light over the night sea. With women the vaguest of emotions lead to intuitive gleams of thought, and Mrs. Betty’s exultation inspired Catherine with reasonless unrest.
The two women met in the doorway25 of the supper-room, Parker Steel’s wife on Mr. Cranston’s arm, Catherine escorted by Captain Hensley, of the Buffs. Their eyes met with a glitter of defiance26 and distrust. Catherine would have drawn27 aside, but Betty, with a laugh, gave her a pretty sweep of the hand.
“Seniores priores, dear. How is your husband? What a delicious evening!”
The presentiment28 of treachery asserted itself with superstitious29 strangeness. Catherine colored, stung, despite herself, by Parker Steel’s wife’s patronizing drawl.
“Thanks. My husband is very well. Has he been ill?” and the ironical30 question conveyed a challenge.
Mrs. Betty’s lips parted over their perfect teeth.
“Mr. Cranston is such an enthusiast31 that I must not lose him the next waltz. Try the paté de foie gras, it is excellent,” and she swept out, with a glitter of amusement, on the lawyer’s arm.
They were soon moving in the midst of the music, a score of rustling32 dresses swinging their colors over the polished floor.
“Poor Mrs. Murchison,” and the lawyer looked curiously33 into his partner’s face.
“Strange that we should have met her, just then!”
“After our discussion at supper!”
“Yes; she knows nothing.”
“My dear Mrs. Steel, the penny-post carries more poison than the rings of the old Italians.”
“But then we are more civilized34 in our methods.”
“Possibly. The cruelties of civilization are more refined, of the soul rather than of the body. Shall we reverse?”
“Yes. There are some fatalities35 that cannot be reversed, Mr. Cranston, eh?”
Catherine returned to the great house in Lombard Street that night with a vague feeling of melancholy36 and unrest. She was beginning to know the terror of a secret in a house, a hidden shame to be held sacred from the eyes of the world. Nor was it that she did not trust her husband, nor respect his strength, for few men would have fought as he had fought, and even in defeat she beheld37 a pathos38 that was wholly tragic39, never sordid40.
She was haunted by the thought that night that Betty Steel had guessed her secret, and only women know the feline41 cruelty of their sex. The greater part of the social snobberies and tyrannies of life are inspired by the spiteful egotism of women. Catherine knew enough of Betty’s nature to forecast the mercy she might expect from her rival’s tongue. Moreover, the very home-coming from the dance recalled to her that March night when she had first uncovered her husband’s shame. There are some memories that are like aggressive weeds, no tearing up by the roots can banish42 them from the human heart. Their tendrils creep and thrust into every crevice43 of the mind. Their fruit is full of a poisoned juice, their flowers red as hyssop—for all the world to see.
As for the sake of irony44, the letters that Betty Steel and Mr. Cranston had discussed, were opened by Murchison at the breakfast-table before the faces of his children and his wife. Master Jack45 had been clamoring to be taken to the cottage on Marley Down, and Gwen had crept round to her father’s elbow to overpersuade him with the winsomeness46 of childhood. The first letter that Murchison opened was from Cranston; the second from Parker Steel. Miss Gwen, doll in hand, stood unheeded at her father’s elbow. It was Catherine who rose, called the two children, and took them out into the garden to play.
They clung, one to either hand, the boy prancing47 and chattering48, the girl solemn-eyed because of her father’s silence.
“Mother, when may we go to Marley?”
“Soon, dear, soon.”
“Oh, I say, do they keep rabbits there?”
“And will daddy come too?”
Catherine disentangled herself, and left them on the lawn under the great plane-tree, her heart heavy with some half-expected dread49.
“Daddy will come too, dear. I will call you when you are to come in.”
Murchison was still sitting at the breakfast-table when she returned, looking like a man who had lost his all at cards. His figure appeared shrunken, and hollow at the shoulders, his face expressionless as though from some sudden palsy of the brain.
“James!”
He started as though he had not heard her enter.
“The children, where—?”
“In the garden. Tell me, what has happened?”
“Happened? My God, Kate, see, read!—what have I done?”
She stretched out her hand, her face piteously brave.
“This letter?”
He nodded.
“From whom?”
“Steel. There is to be an inquest at Boland’s Farm.”
Catherine read it, and the lawyer’s also, an angry glow welling up into her eyes. She crumpled50 the letters in her hand, and stood silent a moment, with quivering lips.
“Now, now—I know—”
Murchison stared at her like one half-dazed.
“You have read it?”
“Yes. A blunder! No, I’ll not believe it, James; there is malice51 here. I read it in Betty Steel’s eyes last night.”
“But the facts,” and he groaned52.
“Facts! Are they facts? Is Parker Steel infallible? Wait, I know what I will do.”
Murchison’s eyes watched her like the eyes of a dog.
“I will see Dr. Parker Steel. I will ask him by what right he has dared to act as he has acted.”
Her words seemed to shake her husband from his stupor53.
“Kate, you cannot do it.”
“Why not?”
“Beg a favor of that fop! Besides, the case has gone too far. The facts are there. I blundered. I knew that I had lost my nerve.”
She looked at him with a woman’s pity, her pride and her love still strong and heroic in their trust.
“It was not you, dear—not you.”
“Not I, Kate, but my baser self. Fate takes us when we are in the toils54.”
They heard the children in the garden, their laughter close beneath the window. Murchison’s hands caught the arms of his chair. His children’s happiness seemed part of the mockery of fate.
“Don’t let them come in. I can’t bear it. I—” and he broke down suddenly into that most pitiful and tragic pass when a strong man’s anguish55 brings him even to tears.
Catherine, her face transfigured, bent56 over him, and seized his hands.
“Oh, not that! Why, we are here together, and you look on the darker side—”
His tears were on her hands; he was ashamed, and hung his head.
“Kate, it is true, I feel it. Steel—”
“Steel?”
“Is too cold a man to risk what he cannot prove.”
She drew her breath, and kissed him, the kiss of a mother and a wife.
“I will go to him,” she said.
“Kate!”
“No, not to plead. I could not plead with such a man as Steel.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
carnation
|
|
| n.康乃馨（一种花） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
wondrous
|
|
| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
prattled
|
|
| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的过去式和过去分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
rattle
|
|
| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
comeliness
|
|
| n. 清秀, 美丽, 合宜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
glamour
|
|
| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
plebeians
|
|
| n.平民( plebeian的名词复数 )；庶民；平民百姓；平庸粗俗的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
9
publicity
|
|
| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
bigotry
|
|
| n.偏见，偏执，持偏见的行为[态度]等 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
ostracized
|
|
| v.放逐( ostracize的过去式和过去分词 )；流放；摈弃；排斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
perilous
|
|
| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
abstain
|
|
| v.自制，戒绝，弃权，避免 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
helping
|
|
| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
exultation
|
|
| n.狂喜，得意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
shimmering
|
|
| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
complacent
|
|
| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
persiflage
|
|
| n.戏弄；挖苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
vivacity
|
|
| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
cynical
|
|
| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
glimmering
|
|
| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
defiance
|
|
| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
presentiment
|
|
| n.预感，预觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
superstitious
|
|
| adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
ironical
|
|
| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
enthusiast
|
|
| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
rustling
|
|
| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
civilized
|
|
| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
fatalities
|
|
| n.恶性事故( fatality的名词复数 )；死亡；致命性；命运 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
pathos
|
|
| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
feline
|
|
| adj.猫科的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
banish
|
|
| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
crevice
|
|
| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
irony
|
|
| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
jack
|
|
| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
winsomeness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
47
prancing
|
|
| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
chattering
|
|
| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
crumpled
|
|
| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
malice
|
|
| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
groaned
|
|
| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
stupor
|
|
| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
toils
|
|
| 网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
anguish
|
|
| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |