“Damn that bird!”
The canary in its cage by the window was filling the room with shivers of shrill2 sound. Porteus pushed his chair back, jerked an antimacassar from the sofa, and flung it over the bird’s cage.
“Go on, dear, go on. I am expecting Dixon to see me in ten minutes.”
Miss Carmagee wiped her spectacles, and blundered on brokenly through the letter. There were eight pages, closely written, and whether it was the indistinctness of Catherine’s writing, or the dimness of Miss Carmagee’s eyes, the old lady’s progress was sluggish3 in the extreme. She had forgotten to add milk to her untasted cup of tea, and the rashers of bacon on her plate were congealing4 into unappetizing grease.
Porteus sat fidgeting at the far end of the table. The vitality5 of his interest betrayed itself in a frowning and jerky spirit of impatience6.
“Well, what are they going to do now, eh? Stay on and lose the boy? Murchison ought to have more sense.”
Miss Carmagee’s eyes had assumed an expression of moist surprise behind her spectacles. She appeared to be digesting some unexpected piece of news in silence, and with the amiable7 forgetfulness of a lethargic8 mind.
Porteus had handed her his empty cup. Some seconds elapsed before his sister noticed the intrusion of the china.
“Dear, what a coincidence!”
She took the cup and filled it mechanically, her eyes still fixed9 upon the letter.
“Well, what is it?”
“If only it had happened earlier, the money would have been of use.”
Mr. Porteus betrayed the natural impatience of the energetic male.
“Bless my soul, are you contriving10 a monopoly?”
Miss Carmagee lifted her mild spectacles to her brother’s face.
“Mrs. Pentherby is dead,” she said.
“Dead!”
“Yes.”
“No extreme loss to the community. Ah—would you—!” and he cast a threatening glance in the direction of the bird-cage at the sound of an insinuating11 “tweet.” “Well, what about the money?”
The lawyer’s eyes twinkled as though Mrs. Pentherby’s dividends12 were more interesting than her person.
“She has left nearly all her money and her furniture to Catherine. She died the very same day as Gwen.”
“Pity it wasn’t six months ago. The old lady had some first-class china, and a few fine pictures. Does Catherine say how much?”
“How much what, Porteus?”
“Money, my dear, money.”
“I don’t think she says.”
Her brother pushed back his chair, and glanced briskly at his watch.
“I’ll take it with me,” he said, stretching out a brown and energetic hand for the letter.
“I haven’t quite finished it, Porteus.”
“Never mind; there’s your breakfast getting cold. You had better have some fresh tea made.”
His sister surrendered the letter with a spirit of amiable self-negation.
“The money ought to make a difference to them,” she said, softly, taking off her spectacles and wiping them with slow, pensive13 hands.
“Money always makes a difference, my dear, especially when people are heroically proud.”
Miss Phyllis Carmagee’s thoughts were towards that gray-skied, slaving, sordid14 town where Gwen was buried, as she sipped15 her tea and looked at her brother’s empty chair. She was a woman whom many of her neighbors thought stolid16 and reserved, a woman not gifted with great powers of self-expression. Friendship with many is a mere17 gratification of the social ego18. The vivacious19 people who delight in conversationalism, take pleasure in those personalities20 that are new and pleasing for the moment, even as they are interested in new and complex flowers. To Phyllis Carmagee, however, her friends had more of the enduring dearness of familiar trees. They were part of her consciousness, part of her daily and her yearly life.
Porteus’s sister came by an idea as she sat alone at the breakfast-table that morning. Serene21 and obese22 natures are slow in conceiving, yet the concept may have the greater stability for the very slowness of the progress. The crystallization of that idea went on all day, till it was ready to be displayed in its completeness to her brother as he dined. Miss Carmagee had decided23 to go down to Wilton, and to show that her friendship was worth a long day’s journey. A sentimental24 and unctuous25 letter would have sufficed for a mere worldling. But Porteus Carmagee’s sister had that rare habit of being loyal and sincere.
“I should like to see the child’s grave,” she said, quietly, her round, white face very soft and gentle in the light of the shaded lamp; “it seems hard to realize that the little thing is dead. Gwen meant so much to her father. I wonder what they are going to do.”
Porteus Carmagee stared hard at the silver epergne full of daffodils before him on the table. They were at dessert, and alone, with the curtains drawn26, and a wood fire burning in the old-fashioned grate. The whole setting of the room spoke27 of a generation that was past. It suggested solidity and repose28, placid29 kindliness30, prosaic31 comfort.
“Murchison ought never to have left us,” said the lawyer, curtly32.
“No.”
“The affair might have blown over in a year.”
“You think so, Porteus.”
“If he had only stuck to his guns. People always wait to see what a man will do. If he skedaddles they draw their own inferences. Life is largely a game of bluff33.”
The eyes of brother and sister met in a sudden questioning glance. Possibly the same thought had occurred to both.
“Would it be possible?”
“Possible for what?”
“For James Murchison to come back to Roxton?”
The lawyer reached for his napkin that had slipped down from his knees.
“That is the question,” he confessed, “it is not easy to rebuild a reputation. I would rather face fire than the sneers34 of my genteel neighbors.”
Miss Carmagee’s placid face had lost its habitual35 air of contentment and repose.
“I know it would require courage,” she said.
“People would probably call it impertinence. It requires more than courage to be successfully impertinent in this world.”
“Cleverness, Porteus?”
“Genius, the genius of patience, magnanimity, and self-restraint.”
His sister pondered a moment, while Porteus sipped his port.
“Then—there is Catherine?”
Her brother’s keen eyes lit up at the name.
“Ah, there we have a touch of the divine fire.”
“She could help him.”
“Next to God.”
There was silence again between them for a season. The dim and homely36 room seemed full of a quiet dignity, a pervading37 restfulness that was clean and good. The most prosaic people grow great and lovable when their hearts are moved to succor38 others. The words of a beggar may strike the noblest chords of time, and live with the utterances39 of martyrs40 and of prophets.
“Porteus.”
Brother and sister looked at each other.
“I might speak to them.”
“Perhaps, dear, better than any one.”
“And if they need money? Mrs. Pentherby’s property cannot come to them at once. The law—”
Porteus’s face twinkled benignantly.
“The law, like a mule41, is abominably42 slow. If I can be of any use to them—remind Kate that I am still alive.”
Miss Carmagee regarded her brother affectionately across the table.
“Then I shall go to-morrow,” she said, with a quiet sigh.
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1
irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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congealing
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| v.使凝结，冻结( congeal的现在分词 )；（指血）凝结 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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lethargic
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| adj.昏睡的，懒洋洋的 | |
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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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contriving
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| （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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insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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12
dividends
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| 红利( dividend的名词复数 )； 股息； 被除数； （足球彩票的）彩金 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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ego
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| n.自我，自己，自尊 | |
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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personalities
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| n. 诽谤，（对某人容貌、性格等所进行的）人身攻击； 人身攻击；人格, 个性, 名人( personality的名词复数 ) | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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obese
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| adj.过度肥胖的，肥大的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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unctuous
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| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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sneers
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| 讥笑的表情（言语）( sneer的名词复数 ) | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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pervading
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的现在分词 ) | |
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succor
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| n.援助，帮助；v.给予帮助 | |
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utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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40
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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