At last she suddenly exclaimed out loud—at something she was reading, of course—“I declare!” as if she had made a discovery, and then stopped short and looked up at me with a sort of challenge, as if defying me to guess what she was thinking of. Then, seeing how puzzled I looked, Sara laughed, but reddened a little as well, to my amazement3; and finally, not without the least little touch of confusion, explained herself. To be sure it was quite voluntary, and yet a little unwilling4 too.
“There’s something here exactly like the Italian gentleman; he that people talk so much about in Chester, you know.”{32}
“I never knew there was an Italian gentleman in Chester. What a piece of news! and you never told me,” said I.
“He only came about a fortnight ago,” said Sara. “It looks quite romantic, you know, godmamma, which is the only reason I have heard anything about it. He came quite in great style to the Angel, and said he was coming to see some friends, and asked all about whether anybody knew where the Countess Sermoneta lived. You may be quite sure nobody had ever heard of such a name in Chester. I heard it all from Lucy Wilde, who had heard it from her brother, who is always playing billiards5 and things at the Angel—Harry6 Wilde——”
“That is the poor young man who——”
“Oh, dear godmamma, don’t bother! let one go on with one’s story. Harry Wilde says the Italian came down among them, asking everybody about this Countess Sermoneta, and looking quite bewildered when he found that nobody knew her; but still he was quite lively, and thought it must be some mistake, and laughed, and made sure that this was really Chestare he had come to, and not any other place. But next day, people say, he sent for the landlord and asked all about the families in the neighbourhood, and all of a sudden grew quite grave and serious, and soon after took lodgings7 in Watergate, and has been seen going about the streets and the walls so much since that everybody knows him. He speaks English quite well—people say so, I mean—and he has a servant with him, the funniest-looking fat fellow you ever saw; no more like a proper Italian servant in a play or a novel than I am; and he calls himself just Mr. Luigi; and that, of course, you know, must be only his Christian8 name.”
“Nay, indeed, Sara, I don’t know anything about it. There is nothing at all Christianlike in the name, so far as I can see.”
“Well then, I know, godmamma, which is all the same,” cried the impatient little creature; “but then, to be sure, our old Signor Valetti used to tell us they never minded their family names in Italy; and that people might be next-door neighbours for ever so long and never know each other’s surnames. Isn’t it pretty? especially when they have pretty Christian names, as all the Italians have.”
“My dear, if you think Looegee pretty, I don’t,” said I. “Take my word for it, there is nothing like the sensible English names. I’ve had a good deal of experience, and I don’t like your romantic foreigners. For my part, I don’t like{33} people that have a story. People have no right to have stories, child. If you do your duty honestly, and always tell the truth, and never conceal9 anything, you can’t get up a romance about yourself. As for this Italian fellow and his name——”
“I don’t believe he’s a fellow any more than you are, godmamma,” cried Sara, quite indignantly; “people should know before they condemn10; and his name is just plain Lewis when it’s put into English. I did not think you were so prejudiced, indeed I did not—or I never would have told you anything at all about the poor count——”
“Heaven preserve us! he’s a count, is he?” said I. “And what do you know about him, Sara Cresswell, please, that you would quarrel with your own godmother for his sake?”
Sara did not speak for a few minutes, looking very flushed and angry. At last, after a good fight with herself, she started up and threw her arms round my neck. “Dear godmamma, I wouldn’t quarrel with you for anybody in the world,” cried the little impulsive11 creature. Then she stopped and gave a little toss of her head. “But whatever anybody says, I know it’s quite right to feel kind to the poor Italian gentleman, a stranger, and solitary12, and disappointed! I do wonder at your people, godmamma—you people who pretend to do what’s in the Bible. You’re just as hard upon strangers and as ready to take up a prejudice as anybody else.”
“I never pretended not to be prejudiced,” said I; “it’s natural to a born Englishwoman. And as for your foreign counts, that come sneaking13 into people’s houses to marry their daughters and run off with the money——”
“Oh, if it is that you are thinking of, godmamma,” cried Sara with great dignity, sitting quite bolt upright in her chair, “you are totally mistaken, I assure you. I never spoke14 to the gentleman in my life; and besides,” she went on, getting very red and vehement15, “I never will marry anybody, I have quite made up my mind; so, if you please, godmamma, whatever you choose to say about poor Mr. Luigi, whom you don’t know anything about, I hope you will be good enough not to draw me into any stupid story about marrying—I quite hate talk of that kind.”
I was so thunderstruck that I quite called out—“You impertinent little puss,” said I, “is that how you dare to talk to your godmother!” I declare I do not think I ever was put down so all my life before. I gave her a good sound lecture, as anybody will believe, about the proper respect she owed to her friends and seniors, telling her that I was very much afraid{34} she was in a bad way; and that, however her father, who spoiled her, might let her talk, she ought to know better than to set up her little saucy16 face like that in our house. I said a great deal to the little provoking creature. I am sure she never saw me so angry before, though she has been a perfect plague and tease all her days. But do you think she would give in, and say she was sorry? Not if it had been to save her life! She sat looking down on her book, opening and shutting it upon her hand, her little delicate nostril17 swelling18, her red upper lip moving, her foot going pat-pat on the carpet, but never owning to be in the wrong or making the least apology. After I had done and taken up my paper again, pretending to be very busy with it, she got up and rummaged19 out the other volume of the novel, and came to me to say good-night, holding out her hand and stooping down her cheek, meaning me to kiss her, the saucy little puss! As she was in my house, and a guest, and her first night, I did kiss her, without looking at her. It was a regular quarrel; and so she too went off to her own room. So here I was all alone, very angry, and much disposed to launch out upon the servants or somebody. Contrairy indeed! I should think so! I wonder how that poor old Bob Cresswell can put up with his life. If she were mine I would send her off to school, for all so accomplished20 as they say she is.
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收听单词发音
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1
cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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2
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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3
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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billiards
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| n.台球 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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7
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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8
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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10
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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11
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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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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13
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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14
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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15
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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16
saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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17
nostril
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| n.鼻孔 | |
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18
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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19
rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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