The tiny parlour was entirely white in its decorations, and looked extremely cool on this hot, close day. The walls were hung with snowy linen6, the furniture was upholstered with the same, and the carpet, the curtains, the ornaments7, even the cushions were all pearly white. Everything, when examined, was cheap in quality and price, but the spotlessly clean look of the room--if it could be called so--made up for the marked want of luxury. Beatrice herself wore a white muslin, with cream-hued ribbons, therefore no discordant8 colour broke the Arctic tone of the parlour. Only through the open door could be seen the brilliant tints9 of the flowers, blazing against a background of emerald foliage10. The Snow Parlour was the name of this fantastic retreat, and the vicar's wife took the appellation11 as a personal insult. Rather should she have regarded it a compliment of the highest, as this maiden's bower12 was infinitely13 prettier than she was or ever could be.
Since it was impossible to learn anything definite from Durban or his master, Beatrice was striving to possess her soul in peace until seven o'clock: at that hour she intended to meet Vivian by the Witches' Oak, and there ask him bluntly what he had said or done to make stepfather so furious. Having settled this in her own mind, she lay back in the deep chair, sipping14 her coffee, and allowing her thoughts to wander; they took her back over some five-and-twenty years, and into a life barren and uneventful enough. Beatrice should have been happy, for, like the oft-quoted nation, she had no history.
All her life Beatrice had never known a mother's love. According to Alpenny, who supplied the information grudgingly15 enough, Mrs. Hedge with her one-year-old baby had married him, only to die within three months after the ceremony. Then Durban had taken charge of the child; since the miser16, for monetary17 and other reasons, would not engage a nurse. For two years the old servant had tenderly cared for the orphan18, and it was a great pain to him when Alpenny placed the little Beatrice in charge of a Brighton lady, called Miss Shallow. The spinster was in reduced circumstances, and apparently19 under Alpenny's thumb as regards money matters. She received the child unwillingly20 enough, although she feared to disobey a tyrant22 who could make things disagreeable for her; but later, she grew to love her charge, and behaved towards the orphan with a devotion scarcely to be expected from a nature soured by misfortune.
For twenty years Beatrice had lived with the old gentlewoman in the poky little Hove house, and from her had received the education and upbringing of a lady. Every week Durban came over to see his darling, and Beatrice grew attached to the kind, good-natured old servant, who lavished23 all his affection on her. Alpenny, not anxious to be bothered, and having little love for his stepdaughter, whom he regarded as an encumbrance24, visited Miss Shallow more rarely, and even when he did, took scant25 notice of the tall and beautiful girl, who had been instructed to call him "father." This she did unwillingly enough, as there was always an antagonism26 between the cold nature of the one and the warm humanity of the other. When Miss Shallow died, the girl was ill-pleased to take up her abode27 at The Camp, in close association with a man she mistrusted and disliked, although she could assign no tangible28 reason for the feeling of abhorrence29 which possessed30 her.
How well Beatrice remembered her first sight of the place. It was then but a neglected wilderness31, and she recoiled32 at the sight of such uncivilised surroundings. Alpenny slept in one carriage, and Durban in another; two other carriages were used as counting-house and kitchen; while the remaining three were in a rusty33, ruinous state, almost buried in rank grass and coarse vegetation. And it was a wet day, too, when the girl, grieving for her dear friend, came to view her future home, so that everything was dripping with moisture, and the outlook was infinitely dreary34. She could have cried at the idea of living amidst such desolation; but her courage was too high, and her pride too great, to admit of her indulging in such futile35 lamentation36 before the cold-eyed usurer.
Durban, always sympathetic and watchful37, was quick to see her grief, although she tried to conceal38 it, and at once began to suggest interesting work, so that she should have the less time to eat her heart out in the wilderness. He deftly39 pointed40 out how she and he could make the place a paradise, and how Nature could solace41 the sorrow of the girl for the loss of her guardian42. Having obtained unwilling21 consent from Alpenny, the kind-hearted servant painted and repaired the ruined carriages, and turning one into a dainty bedroom, made the remaining two into a parlour and dining-room. In some way sufficient money was extorted43 from Alpenny to admit of cheap furnishing, and Beatrice, more contented44, came to take up her abode in the strange locality. She was now twenty-five, and for three years had dwelt in this hermitage.
The garden afforded her endless delight and occupation: Durban was the fairy who procured45 the seeds, and who turned up the coarse, weedy ground for the planting of the same; Durban had dug the pond, and had conducted the water thereto through cunningly contrived46 pipes; and Durban had planned the paradise with her aid. The smooth lawn, the beds of brilliant blossoms, the pond with its magnificent water-lilies, the many winding47 paths, and the mossy nooks which afforded cool retreats on hot days, were all the work of herself and Durban. No millionaire could have created a more delightful48 spot than had these two by their indefatigable49 industry and eye for the picturesque50. A portion of the wood Beatrice left to Nature, so that its uncultured look might enhance the civilised appearance of the blossoms; and the contrast was really charming. But that Jarvis Alpenny jealously kept the gates closed, The Camp would have become a show place, as everyone in the neighbourhood had heard of its rare floral beauties; and not a few young men had heard of another beauty still more rare and desirable.
It was at this point that Beatrice began to think of Vivian and his sister, who were the only friends she possessed. Jerry certainly might be included, seeing that he was a constant visitor at Convent Grange, and the future husband of Dinah Paslow; but there was no one else in the parish of Hurstable with whom she cared to exchange a friendly word. She had met Mr. and Mrs. Snow once or twice; but although the vicar was willing enough to speak with so pretty a girl, the vicar's wife objected. She was the tyrant of the place, and ruled her husband, her son, "her" parish---as she called it--and her friends with a rod of iron. But for this aggressive despotism, Mr. Snow might have called at The Camp; but the vicaress ordered her vicar not to waste his time in visiting a girl who rarely came to church, and who occupied what the lady described as "a degraded position." On the several occasions upon which Mrs. Snow had met the usurer's daughter, she had behaved disagreeably, and had never said a kind word. Yet Mrs. Snow called herself a religious woman; but like many a self-styled Christian51, she read her own meaning into the Gospel commandments, and declined to obey them when they clashed with her own snobbish52, sordid53 nature. Beatrice Hedge, according to Mrs. Snow, was beyond the social pale, seeing that her father was a money-lender; so she paid no attention to her, and many of "her" parishioners followed her example. It is to be feared that the lady and her followers54 quite forgot that one of the apostles was a tax-gatherer and a publican.
Beatrice cared very little for this boycotting55; she was accustomed to a lonely life, and, indeed, preferred it, for she found the conversation of Mrs. Snow and her friends extremely wearisome--as it was bound to be, from its aggressive egotism and self-laudation. She had books to read, the garden to tend, Vivian to think of, and sometimes could indulge in a visit to Convent Grange, the home of the Paslows. Dinah she liked; Vivian she loved, and she was certain in her own mind that Vivian loved her; but of this, strange to say, she could not be sure, by reason of his attitude. It was a dubious56 attitude: at times he would pay her marked attentions, and frequently seemed to be on the verge57 of a proposal; then he would draw back, shun58 her society, and turn as chilly59 as an Arctic winter, for no known reason. Beatrice fancied that it might be her relationship to Alpenny that caused this young gentleman of old descent to draw back; and then, again, she felt sure that he was above such a mean spirit. Moreover--and this might be his excuse--Vivian was but an impoverished60 country squire61, and might hesitate to conduct a wife to the half-ruinous Grange. Had he only known how gladly Beatrice would have shared his bread and cheese when sweetened by kisses, surely, as she often thought, he would have proposed. But something kept him silent, and seeing how he changed from hot to cold in his wooing--if it could be called so--she had too much pride to inveigle62 him into making a plain statement, such as her heart and her ears longed to hear. The position was odd and uncomfortable. Both the man and the woman could not mistake each other's feelings, yet the man, who could have arranged matters on a reasonable basis, refused to open his mouth; and it was not the woman's right to usurp63 the privilege of the stronger sex, by breaking the ice.
The appointed meeting for this night puzzled her more than ever. Never before had she met him save at the Grange or at The Camp, and more often than not in the presence of Dinah. Now he asked her to talk with him in a lonely spot, and under an ill-omened tree, where, it was locally reported, the witches of old days had held their Satanic revels64. In answer to his request she had nodded, being taken by surprise; but now she began to question the propriety65 of her proposed action. She was a modest girl, and occupied a difficult position, so it was scarcely the thing to meet a young gentleman on a romantic summer night, and under a romantic tree. But her curiosity was extremely strong. She wished to know why Alpenny had grown so white and had appeared so terrified when Paslow pronounced four mysterious words. What was the "Black Patch"? and why did it produce such an effect on the usurer, who, as a rule, feared nothing but the loss of money? Vivian could explain, since he had brought about the miser's terror, therefore did Beatrice make up her mind to keep the appointment; but she smiled to think what Mrs. Snow would say did that severe lady know of the bold step she was taking.
"Some more coffee?" said a voice at the door, and she looked up to see the smiling servant.
"No thank you, Durban," she replied absently, and setting down the empty cup; then, seeing that he was about to withdraw, she recalled her scattered66 thoughts and made him pause, with a question. "What is the Black Patch?" asked Beatrice, facing round to observe the man's dark face.
Durban spread out his hands in quite a foreign way, and banished67 all emotion from his dark features. "I do not know."
"My father appeared to be startled by the words."
"He did, missy, he did!"
"Do you know the reason?"
"I am not in your father's confidence, missy."
"That is strange, seeing that you have been with him for over twenty years, Durban."
"For twenty-four years, missy."
"You never told me the exact time before, Durban."
The man shrugged68 his shoulders. "You never asked me, missy."
"That is true." Beatrice leaned back again in her chair, and remembered that she and Durban had talked but little about the past. "I should like to know about my mother," she said after a pause.
"There is nothing to know, missy. She married master--and died."
"I was then about a year old?"
"Yes, missy."
"I am twenty-five now, and you have been with Mr. Alpenny for four-and-twenty years; so it seems, Durban, that you first came here with my mother, and remained in Mr. Alpenny's service."
"It is so, missy; I remained for your sake."
"Then you were my mother's servant?"
Durban's face might have been that of a wax doll for all the expression it showed. "I was, missy."
"And you know all about my parents?"
"What there is to know, missy, which is very little. You have never asked about them before; why do you question me now?"
Beatrice mused69. "I hardly know," she confessed. "I suppose Mr. Paslow's remark about the Black Patch, whatever that may be, made me ask now. Mr. Alpenny was afraid when Mr. Paslow spoke70."
"So you said before, missy; and, as I replied, I do not know the reason at all. I am simply a servant."
"And my friend," said Beatrice, extending her hand.
Durban's face lighted up with passionate71 devotion, and his dark eyes blazed with light. Falling on one knee he imprinted72 a reverential kiss on the small white hand: "I love you with all my heart, missy. I love you as a father--as a mother; as the Great God Himself, do I love you, my dear mistress."
"Then you will help me?"
"You have but to ask, and I obey," said Durban simply, and rose to his feet with a light bound, strangely out of keeping with his stout73 person. "What would you have?"
"The key of the little gate."
Durban stared, for Beatrice was making a very serious request. There were two gates to The Camp, a large one opening on to the lane, and a smaller one hidden in a corner of the wall, through which admittance could be gained to a narrow woodland path, which arrived, after devious74 windings75, at the cross-roads. Alpenny's clients usually entered from the lane, but were always dismissed through the--so to speak--secret path. The miser kept the key of this small gate, and, indeed, of the larger one also, so that if any one had to go out, or come in, Alpenny had to be applied76 to. It was therefore no easy matter for Durban to oblige his young mistress.
"Why do you want the key, missy?"
Beatrice did not answer at once. It suddenly crossed her mind that if she acknowledged bow she intended to question Vivian about the Black Patch, that Durban would make some difficulty over obtaining the key. After his admission that he knew nothing, she had no reason to think that he would raise any objections; but the thought came uninvited, and she obeyed it. Wishing to tell the truth, and yet keep Durban in the dark as to her real errand, she determined77 to go to the Grange and see Dinah; then she could meet Vivian there, and could question him at her leisure. "Miss Paslow is engaged," she said suddenly.
Durban nodded and grinned. "To young Mr. Snow," he replied. "I saw."
"Well, I want to go to Convent Grange this evening at six, to see Miss Paslow, and talk over the matter."
Durban shook his head. "Master is angry with Mr. Paslow for some reason, and will not let you go. Besides, at night----" Durban shook his head again very sagely78.
"That's just it," said Beatrice, rising; "I know that my father would object, therefore I wish to slip out of the small gate secretly, and return about nine; he will never know."
"He will never know, certainly, missy; but the way to Convent Grange is dark and lonely."
"Not on a summer night; the moon is out, and there will be plenty of people on the road."
"Would you like me to come, missy?"
"If you will," assented79 Beatrice carelessly. She would rather have gone alone, but since the Grange was now her goal, and not the Witch Oak, Durban's presence did not matter. "But there is no need."
"Oh, I think so; there will be a storm to-night, and then it will grow dark. Besides, people may not be about, and the path to Convent Grange is lonely. I shall come also."
"Very good; and the key----
"I can get it. Master keeps it hanging up in the counting-house, but I can get it." Durban grinned and nodded, and then was about to go away, when he suddenly stopped, and his dark face grew serious. "One thing tell me, missy, and do not be angry."
"I could never be angry with you, Durban. What is it?"
"Do you love Mr. Paslow, missy?"
"Yes," replied Beatrice without hesitation80. She knew that whatever she said to her faithful servant would never be repeated by him.
"And does he love you?"
This time she coloured. "I think so--I am not sure," was her faint reply, as she cast down her eyes.
Durban came a step nearer. "Does he love any one else?" he asked.
Beatrice raised her head sharply, and sent a flaming glance towards the questioner. "What do you mean?"
"If he doesn't love you, does he love any one else?" persisted Durban.
Beatrice twisted her hands. "I am sure he loves me, and no one else!" she cried passionately81. "I can see it in his eyes--I can read it in his face. Yet he--yet he--oh!" she broke off, unwilling to remark upon Paslow's strange, wavering wooing, to a servant, even though that servant was one who would readily have died to save her a moment's pain. "Do you think he loves any one else?" she asked evasively.
"No." Durban's eyes were fixed82 on her face. "I have no reason to think so. If he loves my missy, he can never be fond of other women; but if he plays you false, missy "--Durban's face grew grim and darker than ever--"you have a dog who can bite."
"No! no!" said Beatrice, alarmed--since Durban could make himself unpleasant on occasions, and, from the look on his face, she feared for Vivian--"he loves me, and me only; I am sure of that!"
The man's face cleared. "Then we will go to the Grange this evening, and you can see him."
"But if my stepfather hates him, Durban, he will place some obstacle in the way, should Mr. Paslow ask me to marry him."
"If he asks you to be his wife, you shall marry him, missy."
"But my father----"
"He will say nothing."
"Are you sure? When Mr. Alpenny takes an idea into his head----"
"He will take no idea of stopping your marriage, missy. You shall be happy. I promised him that."
"Promised who?"
"Your real father," said Durban, and departed without another word. It would seem as though he were unwilling to be questioned. Beatrice began to think that there was some mystery connected with her parents, which Durban knew, but which Durban would not reveal.
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收听单词发音
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1
meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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vouchsafing
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的现在分词 )；允诺 | |
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3
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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5
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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6
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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7
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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8
discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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9
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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10
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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appellation
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| n.名称，称呼 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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13
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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grudgingly
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16
miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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monetary
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| adj.货币的，钱的；通货的；金融的；财政的 | |
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18
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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19
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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encumbrance
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| n.妨碍物，累赘 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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30
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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31
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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32
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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33
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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34
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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35
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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lamentation
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| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
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37
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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38
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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40
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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41
solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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42
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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43
extorted
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| v.敲诈( extort的过去式和过去分词 )；曲解 | |
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44
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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45
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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46
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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47
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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48
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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49
indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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50
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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51
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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52
snobbish
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| adj.势利的，谄上欺下的 | |
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53
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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54
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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55
boycotting
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| 抵制，拒绝参加( boycott的现在分词 ) | |
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56
dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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57
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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58
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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59
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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60
impoverished
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| adj.穷困的，无力的，用尽了的v.使（某人）贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某物）贫瘠或恶化 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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inveigle
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| v.诱骗 | |
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usurp
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| vt.篡夺，霸占；vi.篡位 | |
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revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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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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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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windings
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| （道路、河流等）蜿蜒的，弯曲的( winding的名词复数 )； 缠绕( wind的现在分词 )； 卷绕； 转动（把手） | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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sagely
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| adv. 贤能地，贤明地 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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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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