Parker Steel’s wife heard the frou-frou of a silk petticoat sweeping5 down the stairs, the sudden opening of the study door, a man’s footstep crossing the hall.
“What, out to tea again in your best frock?”
The rustling6 of silk ceased for a moment at the foot of the stairs. Betty Steel smiled like a wise and intelligent elder sister. Madge Ellison, and their most stylish7 locum-tenens, Dr. Little, had reached that degree of familiarity that permits two people to spar amiably8 with each other.
“A grievance9, as usual! I suppose you grudge10 us the carriage?”
“Nothing half so selfish, I assure you.”
“Why not come and pay calls with us?”
“The old proverb, Miss Ellison.”
“A little goes a long way, is that it?”
“Am I so little?”
“What’s in a name!” and she passed on with a significant side glance and an arch lifting of the chin.
Dr. Little, a black-chinned, tailor-waisted, superfine person, with a distinct “air,” proceeded on a hypothetical expedition up the stairs. He had remembered leaving his latch-key in his bedroom, a useful excuse for meeting a pretty woman on the way, as though the coincidence were supremely11 natural.
“Au revoir.”
Miss Ellison favored him with an undeniable wink12 as she picked up a pink parasol from the hall table. She was one of those women who remind one forcibly of the stage-beauty as seen on very young men’s mantel-pieces. Madge Ellison would show as much of an open-work stocking as was compatible with social refinement13. A retroussé nose and a round and rather cheeky chin associated themselves naturally with her methods of fascination14.
“Madge!”
“Yes, dear.”
“Here, quick, I want you!”
“Bless my soul, why this tragic15 note?”
“Look, the window; do you recognize any one by the church-railings?”
There was a hard abruptness16 in Betty Steel’s voice. She was leaning forward with her hand on the window-sill, her face curiously17 changed in its expression from the purring contentment of two minutes ago.
“I see a solitary18 female, dear.”
“Don’t you recognize her?”
Miss Ellison gave a quaint19 and expressive20 little whistle.
“No, surely, it can’t be!”
“Kate Murchison.”
“By George, dear, it is!”
The two friends watched the figure in black disappear under the old gate-house that stood at the northwest corner of the square. For Madge Ellison there was nothing more inspiriting than curiosity in the event. To Betty Steel that passing glimpse had opened up all the hatred21 of the past.
“What’s in your mind, Madge?”
Miss Ellison was buttoning her gloves.
“I’ll bet a tea-cake to a penny bun, dear, that it is the Murchisons who have taken their house in Lombard Street again.”
“Nonsense!”
Betty Steel’s eyes grew hard and dangerous at the suggestion.
“Why nonsense?”
“The Murchisons would hardly have the impudence23 to sneak24 back to Roxton. People don’t care to be bungled25 into the next world by a drunkard.”
“My word, Betty, draw it mild. I never heard that the man drank.”
“You were in Italy, then, I believe.”
“Nasty, nasty! You are peevish26 over the poor people’s failings!”
“I hate that woman, Madge.”
Miss Ellison laughed at the sincerity27 of her friend’s spite.
“Why, what earthly harm can that woman do you by choosing to live in Roxton?”
“I tell you, Madge, there are some people in this world who set one’s teeth on edge. After all, what need for all this waste of antipathy28. Kate Murchison must be staying with the Carmagees. I’ll risk that as my explanation.”
Spirited away on a round of social duties, Betty Steel and her friend paid their third call that afternoon at the Canonry in Canon’s Court, off Cloister29 Street. A row of carriages under the avenue of limes, and a liveried servant standing30 on duty under the Georgian portico31, reminded Betty Steel that the third Friday in the month was the date printed on Mrs. Stensly’s cards. Betty and her gossip were announced in the crowded drawing-room, where a number of bored figures were balancing teacups and talking with forced animation32. A few men, severely33 saddened by their responsibilities, were treading on each other’s heels, and looking anxiously for ladies who would take pity on sandwiches or cake. The French windows of the room were open to the May sunshine of the garden, and the fringes of a cedar34 could be seen sweeping the sleek35 grass.
Individual faces disassociate themselves slowly from such an assemblage, and Betty Steel, blockaded under the lee of a grand-piano, had but half the room under the ken22 of her keen eyes. Madge Ellison had been left to chat with Mr. Keightly, a very popular and enthusiastic curate who had rendered his character doubly fascinating by professing36 to hold prejudices in favor of celibacy37. Betty had a brewer’s wife at her elbow. They had exchanged ecstatic confidences on the exquisite38 shape and color of Mrs. Stensly’s tea-service, and were both groping for some further topic to keep the conversation moving.
“And how is the play going, Mrs. Steel?”
“The play?”
Mrs. Betty seemed unusually pensive39 and distraught.
“Lady Sophia’s play.”
“As well as a piece can go—with amateurs. We all find fault with our neighbors.”
“I hear it is a splendid little play.”
“Not at all bad.”
“I must say I like the pathetic style of play.”
“Oh yes, quite charming.”
“I saw Julia Neilson play in that play, oh—what was the play called?—”
“‘A Woman of no Ideal,’ most likely,” thought Mrs. Betty. “I wonder how many more times she is going to tread on that one unfortunate word.”
She waited demurely40 for the title to recur41, but it appeared lost in the limbo42 of the fat lady’s mind. The brewer’s wife continued to grope for it like a conscientious43 housewife who has lost the Sabbath threepenny bit in her glove-box while dressing44 for church.
Betty Steel, however, had become utterly45 oblivious46 of her presence for the moment. She was gazing towards one of the open windows where a woman’s figure, tall and comely47 in simple black, showed against the rich green of the grass. The woman’s back was turned towards the room, but Betty knew her by her figure and the lustre48 of her hair.
“Very odd, Mrs. Steel, I can’t remember the name of that play.”
“Really, I beg your pardon, I was thinking of other things.”
A slight rearranging of this aggregate49 of Roxton culture released Betty Steel from this amiable50 mass of irresponsible bathos. She contrived51 to wedge herself beside Madge Ellison, whose retroussé nose had failed to tempt52 the celibate53 to expand.
“You see?”
A smart hat was tilted54 significantly towards the window.
“I do.”
“Any news?”
“You have lost, dear. The tea-cake is on top. The sensation of Roxton. They are here to stay.”
Mrs. Betty’s face expressed infinite pity.
“How eccentric!”
“Kate Murchison has had money left her.”
“And the husband?”
“I hear his plate is up in Lombard Street.”
Whether it was a mere55 matter of coincidence or the working of a definite purpose, the fact was curiously self-evident to Betty Steel that the drawing-room of the Canonry had divided itself into two camps. Window-ward sat Miss Carmagee, dressed in black, her large face shining like a buckler against the embattled foe56. Porteus—the irascible Porteus who blasphemed all tea-parties—was chattering57 like a little brown baboon58. Several of Kate Murchison’s old friends appeared to have congregated59 together on the opposition60 benches. Mrs. Betty remarked all this, and her mouth grew a mere line in her pale and alert face.
The breweress had risen to depart. A number of nervous people who had been waiting for some bold spirit to initiate61 the movement, followed the fat lady’s inspiriting example. Mrs. Stensly was in the garden. The breweress and her flock of sheep filed through the open window to shake hands—and go.
“Madge.”
“Hallo, dear, am I sitting on you? Whither away?”
“To pay my most dutiful respects!”
Catherine Murchison and the Canon had left the window, and were pacing the grass under the benisons of the great cedar. By the expression of their faces, and the serious yet sympathetic inflection of their voices, they had broken the mere social surface, and were speaking of deeper things. It is the fashion to abuse the priesthood in the abstract, yet any critic who took the clean-girt manliness62 of Canon Stensly’s character might find his rhetoric63 chilled in its free flow.
“You have done the right thing, and your true friends will be glad of it.”
“It was my husband’s wish.”
“The wish of a brave man.”
“What a wonderful thing is sympathy! You have helped me so much this afternoon. It was an ordeal64. You know, we dread65 the unknown—uncertainty.”
The big, gray-headed man looked down at her with much of the affection of a father. His hands had given her confirmation66 and joined her hand in marriage.
“Doubt is a great distorting glass,” he said, simply; “the difficulties of life decrease the moment they are faced.”
“I am glad you are on our side.”
“I should be a poor Christian67 if I were not.”
A figure in a pink dress, sumptuous68 and perfect as to the milliner’s craft, glided69 across the grass, and cast a shadow at Catherine’s feet.
“How d’you do, Kate? You have surprised us all—assuredly.”
The two women touched hands. Betty Steel’s drawl ascended70 towards patronage. She assumed the air of a mistress of a salon71 whose salutation decided72 destinies and dispensed73 fame.
“How is Dr. Murchison? This long rest must have done him good.”
“Thanks. My husband is very well.”
“I am afraid we all misunderstood your plans. We thought you had left Roxton for good. I suppose Dr. Murchison will not expose himself again to the strain of general practice. Surgical74 cases are such a responsibility.”
It is the ability of women to be politely insolent75 and to cover a taunt76 with ironical77 courtesy. There were at least a dozen people within range of Mrs. Betty’s aggressive drawl, and Betty Steel had no intention of letting Roxton forget James Murchison’s past.
“And how are the children?”
Her eyes were studying the details of Catherine’s dress with the critical acuteness so trying to a woman.
“The boy is very well, thanks.”
“And the other—a girl, was it not?”
“You need not trouble to remember her.”
“That sounds as though you were disappointed. I remember how you used to read me texts on the divinity of motherhood.”
“The child is dead, Betty, that is all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I always thought the girl was delicate.”
Canon Stensly’s massive shadow interposed itself between the slighter silhouettes78 upon the grass.
“Your husband has kept his promise, Mrs. Murchison.”
“Is he here?”
“Yes, yonder, with my wife.”
Betty Steel’s face was tinged79 with a malignity80 that leaked from her eyes and from the sneering81 angles of her mouth. She felt glad that Catherine’s favorite child was dead. The incomprehensible malice82 in the thought justified83 itself in the reflection that Catherine had lost something that she, Betty, had always lacked.
She passed James Murchison as she returned towards the house, a man with a certain dignity of past suffering writ84 heavily upon his face. He was talking to two old friends. Betty swept by him without troubling to notice whether he bowed to her or not. The man was a mere pawn85 in the game so far as she was concerned. Any humiliation86 that he might suffer was only valuable so far as it humiliated87 his wife.
The carriage was waiting for them under the limes of Canon’s Court. Madge Ellison flounced down in her corner with a relieved sigh.
“What a function! Well, how is she, charming as ever?”
“Who?”
“You know whom I mean, Betty?”
“That beast?”
“I heard you call her that once when we were at school,” and Miss Ellison tittered; “I believe she’ll make the whole town swallow the past.”
“Will she—indeed!”
“You don’t relish88 the idea?”
“Wait, my dear girl; we have not seen the end of the game yet.”
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收听单词发音
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1
complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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symbolical
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| a.象征性的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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stylish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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8
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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9
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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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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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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16
abruptness
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| n. 突然，唐突 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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25
bungled
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| v.搞糟，完不成( bungle的过去式和过去分词 )；笨手笨脚地做；失败；完不成 | |
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peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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antipathy
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| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
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cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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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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portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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professing
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| 声称( profess的现在分词 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
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celibacy
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| n.独身(主义) | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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recur
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| vi.复发，重现，再发生 | |
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42
limbo
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| n.地狱的边缘；监狱 | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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48
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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49
aggregate
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| adj.总计的，集合的；n.总数；v.合计；集合 | |
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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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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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52
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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53
celibate
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| adj.独身的，独身主义的；n.独身者 | |
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54
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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55
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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56
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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57
chattering
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| 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 | |
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58
baboon
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| n.狒狒 | |
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59
congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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61
initiate
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| vt.开始，创始，发动；启蒙，使入门；引入 | |
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62
manliness
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| 刚毅 | |
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rhetoric
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| n.修辞学，浮夸之言语 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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68
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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69
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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70
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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72
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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73
dispensed
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| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
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74
surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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75
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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76
taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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78
silhouettes
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| 轮廓( silhouette的名词复数 )； （人的）体形； （事物的）形状； 剪影 | |
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79
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
malignity
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| n.极度的恶意，恶毒；（病的）恶性 | |
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81
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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82
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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83
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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84
writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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85
pawn
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| n.典当，抵押，小人物，走卒；v.典当，抵押 | |
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86
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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87
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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88
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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