"I thought perhaps she had left it with you," he said.
Mrs. Payton, conscious, as were the other two, of having talked about the speaker only a minute before, expressed flurried and embarrassed concern. She was so sorry! She couldn't imagine where the book was! She got up, and fumbled5 among the Flowers of Peace. "You don't remember the title?"
He shook his head. "Awfully6 sorry. I'm so stupid about all these deep books Fred's so keen on. Something about birth-rate and the higher education, I think."
Mrs. Payton stiffened7 visibly. "I don't know of any such book," she said; then murmured, perfunctorily, that he must have a cup of tea.
Again Mr. Maitland was sorry,—"dreadfully sorry,"—but he had to go. He went; and the two ladies looked at each other.
[Pg 20]
"Do you suppose he heard us?"
"I don't believe he did!"
"Nice chap," said Mr. Weston.
On the way down-stairs the nice chap was telling Laura that he had caught on, the minute he got into that room, that it wasn't any social whirl, so he thought he'd better get out.
"They're sitting on Freddy, I'm afraid," Laura said, soberly; "poor old Fred!"
"Well, I put one over when I asked for that book! I bet even old Weston's never read it! Neither have I. But Fred can give us all cards and spades on sociology."
"She's great," Laura agreed; "but the book isn't so awfully deep. Well, I'm going back to root for her!"
She ran up to the sitting-room8 again, and demanded tea. Her face, under her big black hat, was like a rose, and her pleasant brown eyes glanced with all the sweet, good-natured indifference9 of kindly10 youth at the three troubled people about the tea-table. Somehow, quite unreasonably11, their depression lightened for a moment....
"No! No sugar, Aunt Nelly."
"Do you want to be as thin as I am, Miss Laura?" Arthur Weston remonstrated12, watching her rub her cool cheek against her mother's, and kiss her aunt, and "hook" a sandwich from the tea-table. One had to smile at Laura; her mother smiled, even while she thought of the walk home, and realized, despairingly, that the car was coming—coming—and would be gone in a minute or two!
"My dear, your father says all this fuss about exercise is perfect nonsense. Really, I think we'd better ride,"[Pg 21] she pleaded with the pretty creature, who was asking, ruthlessly, for lemon, which meant another delay.
"I'll ring, Auntie; Flora13 will get it in a minute. Mama, I bet you haven't walked an inch this day! I knew you'd take the car if I didn't come and drag you on to your legs," she ended, maliciously14; but it was such pretty malice15, and her face was so gayly amiable16 that her mother surrendered. "The only thing that reconciles me to Billy-boy's being too poor to give us an auto," Laura said, gravely, "is that Mama would weigh a ton if she rode everywhere. I bet you've eaten six cream-cheese sandwiches, Mama? You'll gain a pound for each one!"
"You'll be the death of me, Lolly," her mother sighed. "I only ate three. Well, I'll stay a little longer, Ellen, and walk part way home with this child. She's a perfect tyrant," she added, with tender, scolding pride in the charming young creature, whose arch impertinence was irresistible17.
"Take off your coat, my dear," Mrs. Payton said, patting her niece's hand, "and go and look at my puzzle over on the table. Five hundred pieces! I'm afraid it will take me a week yet to work it out;"—then, in an aside: "Laura, I'm mortified18 that I should have asked Mr. Maitland the title of that book before you,"—Laura opened questioning eyes;—"so indelicate of Fred to tell him to read it! Oh, here's Flora with the lemon. Thank you, Flora.... Laura, do you know what Freddy is thinking of doing now?"
"Yes, the real-estate business. It's perfectly19 corking20! Howard Maitland says he thinks she's simply great to[Pg 22] do it. I only wish I could go into business and earn some money!"
"My dear, if you will save some money in your own home, you will be just as well off," Mrs. Childs said, dryly.
"Better off," Mr. Weston ventured, "but you won't have so much fun. This idea of Fred's is a pretty expensive way of earning money."
"You know about it?" Mrs. Payton said, surprised.
"Oh, yes; she broke it to me yesterday."
"Just what is her idea?" Mrs. Childs asked, with mild impatience21.
"Let me explain it," Frederica's man of business said ... and proceeded to put the project into words of three letters, so to speak. Fred had hit on the fact that there are many ladies—lone females, Mr. Weston called them; who drift about looking for apartments;—"nice old maids. I know two of them at this minute, the Misses Graham, cousins of mine in Grafton. They are going to spend the winter in town, and they want a furnished apartment. It must be near a drug-store and far enough from an Episcopal church to make a nice walk on Sundays—fair Sundays. And it must be on the street-car line, so that they can go to concerts, with, of course, a messenger-boy to escort them; for they 'don't mean to be a burden to a young man'; that's me, I'll have you know! 'A young man'! When a chap is forty-six that sounds very well. Fred proposes to find shelters for just such people."
LET ME EXPLAIN IT
"LET ME EXPLAIN IT," FREDERICA'S MAN OF BUSINESS SAID ... AND
PROCEEDED TO PUT THE PROJECT INTO WORDS OF THREE LETTERS
The two ladies were silent with dismay and ignorance. Laura, sucking a piece of lemon, and seeing a chance to[Pg 23] "root," said, "How bully22 to have an office! I'm going to make her take me as office boy."
"The Lord only knows how she got the idea," Arthur Weston went on, "but it isn't entirely23 bad. I confess I wish her ambition would content itself with a post-office address, but nothing short of a real office will satisfy her. She has her eye on one in the tenth story of the Sturtevant Building; I am on the third, you know. But I think she can do it all on her allowance, though rent and advertising24 will use up just about all her income."
"I will never consent to it," Mrs. Payton said, angrily. "It is absurd, anyhow! Freddy, to hunt up houses for elderly ladies—Freddy, of all people! She knows no more about houses, or housekeeping, than—than that fire-screen! Just as an instance, I happened to tell her that I couldn't remember whether I had seventy-two best towels and eighty-four ordinary towels, or the other way round; I was really ashamed to have forgotten which it was, and I said that as soon as I got time I must count them. (Of course, I have the servants' towels, too; five dozen and four, with red borders to distinguish them.) And Freddy was positively25 insulting! She said women whose minds had stopped growing had to count towels for mental exercise. When I was a girl, I should have offered to count the towels for my mother! As for her finding apartments for elderly ladies, I would as soon trust a—a baby! Do you mean the Mason Grahams, Mr. Weston? Miss Eliza and Miss Mary? Mama knows them. You've met them, too, haven't you, Bessie? Well, I can only say that I should be exceedingly mortified to have the Misses[Pg 24] Graham know that any Payton girl was behaving in such an extraordinary manner. The real-estate business! She might as well go out as a servant."
"She would make more money as a cook," he admitted. But he could not divert the stream of hurt and angry objections. Once Mrs. Childs said to tell Fred her uncle William would say it was perfect nonsense; and once Laura whispered to Mr. Weston that she thought it would be great sport to hunt flats for flatlings; to which he whispered back: "Shoal. 'Ware26 shoal, Laura."
There were many shoals in the distressed27 argument that followed, and even Arthur Weston's most careful steering28 could not save some bumps and crashes. In the midst of them the car came clattering29 down the street, and after a while went clattering back; and still the three elders wrangled30 over the outlaw's project, and Laura, sitting on the arm of her mother's chair, listened, giggling31 once in a while, and saying to herself that Mr. Weston was a perfect lamb—for there was no doubt about it, he, too, was "rooting" for Fred.
"I must go," Mrs. Childs said, at last, in a distressed voice. "No, Lolly, we haven't time to walk; we must take the car. Oh, Ellen, I meant to ask you: can't you join my bridge club? There's going to be a vacancy32, and I'm sure you can learn—"
"Oh, my dear, I couldn't possibly! I'm so busy; I haven't a minute—"
"Well, think it over," Mrs. Childs urged. "And, Nelly dear, I know it will be all right about Fred. I'm sure William would say so. Don't worry!"
[Pg 25]
But when the door closed upon the escaping aunt and the sympathizing cousin, poor Mrs. Payton's worry overflowed33 into such endless details that at last her hearer gave up trying to comfort her. When he, too, made his escape, he was profoundly fatigued34. His plea that Frederica should be allowed to burn her fingers so that she might learn the meaning of fire had not produced the slightest effect. To everything he said Mrs. Payton had opposed her outraged35 taste, her wounded love, her fixed36 belief in the duty of youth to age. When he ventured to quote that
"... it was better youth
Should strive, through acts uncouth37,
Towards making, than repose38 on aught found made,"
she said poetry was all very well, but that, perhaps, if the poet or poetess who wrote that had had a daughter, they would think differently. When she was reminded that she, too, had had different ideas from those of her parents, she said, emphatically, never!—except in things where they had grown a little old-fashioned.
"I don't believe, when I was a girl, I ever crossed Mama in anything more important than in little matters of dress or furnishings.... Oh, do look at my puzzle before you go!"
But Arthur Weston, almost dizzy with the endless words, had fled. Down-stairs, while he hunted for his hat and coat, he paused to draw a long breath and throw out his arms, as if he would stretch his cramped39 mind, as well as his muscles, stiffened by long relaxing among the cushions of the big arm-chair.
[Pg 26]
"Is there anything in this world duller than the pronunciamento of a dull woman!" he said to himself. On the street, for sheer relief of feeling the cool air against his face, instead of the warm stillness of Mrs. Payton's sitting-room, he did not hail the approaching car, but strolled aimlessly along the pavement, sticky with fog.
"I wonder if she talks in her sleep?" he said. "I don't believe she ever stops! How can Fred stand it?" He knew he couldn't stand it himself. "I'd sell pop-corn on the street corner, to get away from it—and from Andy's old stovepipe!" It occurred to him that the ideals set forth40 in Mrs. Payton's ceaseless conversation were of the same era as the hat. "But the hat would fit Fred best," he thought—"Hello!" he broke off, as, straining back on the leash41 of an exasperated42 Scotch43 terrier, a girl came swinging around the corner of the street and caromed into him so violently that he nearly lost his balance.
"Grab him, will you?" she gasped44; and when Mr. Weston had grabbed, and the terrier was sprawling45 abjectly46 under the discipline of a friendly cuff47 on his nose, she got her breath, and said, panting, "Where do you spring from?"
It was Frederica Payton, her short serge skirt splashed with mud, and a lock of hair blown across her eyes. "He's a wretch48, that pup!" she said. "I'll give him to you for a present."
"I wouldn't deprive you of him for the world!" he protested, in alarm. "Here, let me have the leash."
She relinquished49 it, and they walked back together toward Payton Street, Zip shambling meekly50 at their heels.
[Pg 27]
"Well," she said, thrusting a confiding51 arm in his, "were you able to move her? Or did she turn Aunt Bessie loose on you, too? I knew Aunt Bessie was to be asked to the funeral. I suppose she talked anti-suffrage52, and quoted 'my William' every minute? Aunt Bessie hasn't had an idea of her own since the year one! Isn't it queer what stodgy53 minds middle-aged54 women have? I suppose you are about dead?"
"I have felt more lively. Fred, why can't you see your mother's side of it?"
"Why can't she see my side of it?"
"But she thinks—"
"But I think! What I object to in Mother is that she wants me to think her thoughts. Apart from the question of hypocrisy55, I prefer my own." As she spoke56, the light of a street lamp fell full on her face—a wolfish, unhumorous young face, pathetic with its hunger for life; he saw that her chin was twitching58, and there was a wet gleam on one flushed cheek. "Besides," she said, "I simply won't go on spending my days as well as my nights in that house. You don't know what it means to live in the same house with—with—"
"I wish you were married," he said, helplessly; "that's the best way to get out of that house."
She laughed, and squeezed his arm. "You want to get off your job?" she said, maliciously; "well, you can't. I'm the Old Man of the Sea, and you'll have to carry me on your back for the rest of your life. No marriage in mine, thank you!"
They were sauntering along now in the darkness, her[Pg 28] arm still in his, and her cheek, in her eagerness, almost touching59 his shoulder; her voice was flippantly bitter:
"I don't want a man; I want an occupation!"
"But it isn't necessary, Fred. And besides, there are home duties."
"In our house? Name 'em! Shall I make the soap, or wait on the table and put Flora out of a job? Where people have any money at all, 'home duties,' so far as girls are concerned, are played out. Machinery60 is the cuckoo that has pushed women out of the nest of domesticity. I made that up," she added, with frank vanity. "I haven't a blessed thing to do in my good home—I suppose you heard that I had a 'good home'? which means a roof, and food, so far as I can make out. But as there is something besides eating and sleeping in this life, I am going to get busy outside of my 'good home'!"
He thought of the towels, but only murmured vaguely61 that there were things a girl could do which were not quite so—so—
"'Unwomanly'? That's Mother's word. Grandmother's is 'unladylike.' No, sir! I've done all the nice, 'womanly' things that girls who live at home have to do to kill time. I've painted—can't paint any more than Zip! And I've slummed. I hate poor people, they smell so. And I've taken singing lessons; I have about as much voice as a crow. My Suffrage League isn't work, it's fun. I might have tried nursing, but Grandmother had a fit; that 'warm heart' she's always handing out couldn't stand the idea of relieving male suffering. 'What!' she said, 'see a [Pg 29]gentleman entirely undressed, in his bed!' I said, 'It would be much more alarming to see him entirely dressed in his bed'!" She paused, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully; "it's queer about Grandmother—I don't really dislike her. She makes me mad, because she's such an awful old liar62; but she's no fool."
"That's a concession63. I hope you'll make as much for me."
"They were poor when she was a girl, and she had to do things—household things, I mean; really had to. So she has stuff in her; and, in her way, she's a good sport. But she is narrow and coarse. 'See a gentleman in his bed!' And she thinks she's modest! But poor dear Mother simply died on the spot when I mentioned nursing. So I gave that up. Well, I have to admit I wasn't very keen for it; I don't like sick people, dressed or undressed."
"They don't like themselves very much, Fred."
"I suppose they don't," she said, absently. "Well, nursing really wasn't my bat, so I have nothing against Mother on that lay. But you see, I've tried all the conventional things, and I've made up my mind to cut 'em out. Business is the thing for me. Business!"
"But isn't there a question of duty?" he said.
"Do you mean to Mortimore? Poor wretch! That's what Mother harps64 on from morning to night. What duty have I to Mortimore? I'm not responsible for him. I didn't bring him here. Mother has a duty to him, I grant you. She owes him—good Lord! how much she owes him! Apologies, to begin with. What right had she and 'old Andy Payton' to bring him into the world?[Pg 30] I should think they would have been ashamed of themselves. Father was old and dissipated; and there was an uncle of his, you know, like Mortimore. His 'intellect was there,' too, but it was very decidedly 'veiled'! I suppose Mother worked the 'veiled intellect' off on you?"
They had reached the Payton house by this time, and Frederica, her hand on the gate, paused in the rainy dusk and looked into Arthur Weston's face, with angry, unabashed eyes. "Don't talk to me about a duty to Mortimore!"
"I meant a duty to your mother. Think of what you owe your mother."
"What do I owe her? Life! Did I ask for life? Was I consulted? Before I am grateful for life, you've got to prove that I've liked living. So far, I haven't. Who would, with Mortimore in the house? When I was a child I couldn't have girls come and see me for fear he would come shuffling65 about." He saw her shoulders twitch57 with the horror of that shuffling. "It makes me tired, this rot about a child's gratitude66 and duty to a parent! It's the other way round, as I look at it; the parent owes the child a lot more than the child owes the parent. Did 'old Andy' and Mama bring me into this world for my pleasure? You know they didn't. 'Duty to parents'—that talk won't go down," she said, harshly, and snapped the gate shut between them.
He looked at her helplessly. She was wrong, but much of what she had said was right,—or, rather, accurate. But when, in all the history of parenthood, had there been a time when children accused their fathers and mothers[Pg 31] of selfishness, and cited their own existence as a proof of that selfishness! "Your mother will be very lonely," he said.
She shook her head. "Mother doesn't need me in the least. A puzzle of a thousand pieces is a darned sight more interesting than I am."
"You are a puzzle in one piece," he said.
"I'm not as much use to Mother as Father's old silk hat down in the hall; I never scared a burglar yet. I tell you what, Mother and I have about as much in common as—as Zip and that awful iron dog! Mother thinks she is terribly noble because she devotes herself to Mortimore. Mr. Weston, she enjoys devoting herself! She says she's doing her duty. I suppose she is, though I would call it instinct, not duty. Anyhow, there's nothing noble about it. It's just nature. Mother is like a cat or a cow; they adore their offspring. And they have a perfect right to lick 'em all over, or anything else that expresses cat-love. But you don't say they are 'noble' when they lick 'em! And cows don't insist that other cows shall lick calves67 that are not theirs. Mortimore isn't mine. Yes; that's where Mother isn't as sensible as a cow. She can give herself up all she wants to, but she sha'n't give me up. I won't lick Mortimore!" She was quivering, and her eyes were tragic68. "Why, Flora has more in common with me than Mother, for Flora is at least dissatisfied—poor old Flora! Whereas Mother is as satisfied as a vegetable. That's why she's an anti. No; she isn't even a vegetable; vegetables grow! Mother's mind stopped growing when her first baby was born. Mother[Pg 32] and I don't speak the same language. I don't suppose she means to be cruel," she ended, "but she is."
"Did it ever occur to you that you are cruel?"
She winced69 at that; he saw her bite her lip, and for a moment she did not speak. Then she burst out: "That's the worst of it. I am cruel. I say things—and then, afterward70, I could kick myself. Yet they are true. What can I do? I tell the truth, and then I feel as if I had—had kicked Zip in the stomach!"
"Stop kicking Zip anywhere," he admonished71 her; "it's bad taste."
"But if I don't speak out, I'll bust72!"
"Well, bust," he said, dryly; "that's better than kicking Zip."
Her face broke into a grin, and she leaned over the gate to give his arm a squeeze. "I don't know how I'd get along without you," she told him. "Darn that pup!" she said, and dashed after Zip's trailing leash.
Arthur Weston, looking after her, laughed, and waved his hand. "How young she is! Well, I'll put the office business through for her."
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收听单词发音
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1
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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3
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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4
butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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5
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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6
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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7
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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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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10
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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11
unreasonably
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| adv. 不合理地 | |
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12
remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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13
flora
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| n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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14
maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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16
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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18
mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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19
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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20
corking
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| adj.很好的adv.非常地v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的现在分词 ) | |
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21
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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23
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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wrangled
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| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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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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uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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41
leash
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| n.牵狗的皮带，束缚；v.用皮带系住 | |
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42
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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43
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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44
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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45
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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46
abjectly
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| 凄惨地； 绝望地； 糟透地； 悲惨地 | |
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47
cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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48
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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49
relinquished
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的过去式和过去分词 )； 放弃 | |
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50
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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51
confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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52
suffrage
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| n.投票，选举权，参政权 | |
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53
stodgy
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| adj.易饱的；笨重的；滞涩的；古板的 | |
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54
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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55
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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56
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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57
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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58
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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59
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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60
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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61
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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62
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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concession
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| n.让步，妥协；特许(权) | |
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64
harps
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| abbr.harpsichord 拨弦古钢琴n.竖琴( harp的名词复数 ) | |
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65
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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66
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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67
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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68
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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69
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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70
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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71
admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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72
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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