Dim shadows veil the western skies,
On every stream the starlight gleams,
And all is mystery and dreams.
But now Night folds her sombre wings.
The lark2 his morning carol sings,
A rosy3, light glows o'er the lawn,
And lo! in splendour breaks the dawn.
It was about a year since the marriage of Una with Reginald, and they were standing4 on the terrace of their hotel at Salerno, which overlooked the sea. Far below lay the blue ocean with its fringe of white waves breaking on a shore that extended in a curve round the base of the lofty mountains, the summits of which were clearly defined against the opaline sky. And what a wonderful sky it was, for the setting sun had irradiated the pure ether with most gorgeous colours. Great golden clouds in the west, forming a canopy5 over the intolerable brilliance6 of the sinking sun, melted into a delicate rose colour, which, rising towards the zenith, imperceptibly dissolved into a cold, clear blue, out of which peered a few stars. There were some boats on the sea with their broad sails, and the young couple on the terrace could hear every now and then the shrill7 voice of a minstrel singing a popular Italian air to the sharp notes of the mandolin.
It was a wonderfully picturesque8 scene, and one which would have enchanted9 the eye of an artist, but Mr. and Mrs. Garsworth, leaning over the terrace, were not looking at the splendours of sea and sky, being engaged one in reading and the other in listening to a letter which appeared to interest them deeply.
They had been wandering about the Continent in a desultory10 kind of fashion for many months, exploring all kinds of old-fashioned cities, with their treasures of bygone ages. They had gazed at the splendours of the Alhambra at Granada, enjoyed the brilliant glitter of Parisian life, wandered in quiet Swiss valleys under the white crest11 of Mont Blanc, seen the Wagner Festival at Bayreuth, and dreamed of medi?val ages in the narrow streets of Nuremberg and Frankfort. Then coming south they had beheld12 with delighted eyes the white miracle of Milan Cathedral, passed enchanted moonlit hours in the palace-sided canals of Venice, idled amid the awesome13 ruins of the Eternal City, and after seeing the smoking crest of Vesuvius rise over the marvellous bay of Naples, had come to pass a few days at Salerno, that wonderfully picturesque town, which recalls to the student of Longfellow memories of Elsa and her princely lover.
Reginald was perfectly14 happy. He had, it is true, lost all the gay carelessness of youth, but in its place he had found the deeper joy which arises out of a great sorrow. There never was a more devoted15 wife than Una, nor a more attached husband than Reginald, and the bitter sorrow which had shown them both how truly they loved one another had borne good fruit, for they had learnt to trust, love, and honour each other so implicitly16 that no shadow ever arose between them to darken their married life. At Salerno, however, they had found a letter from Miss Cassy, who had been left in charge of Garsworth Grange, giving all the news and urging them to return home again. Nor was the request unwelcome, for, now that his heart wound was to a certain extent cured, Reginald began to tire of the glowing landscapes of southern Europe, and to long for that cold northern land so fresh and green under its mists and rain.
Una was reading the letter and Reginald, leaning his arms on the balustrade of the balcony, gazed idly at the fantastic splendours of the scene before him, listening eagerly to the news which brought so vividly17 before him the long marshes18, the dreary19 Grange, and the quiet village life of Garsworth.
"I do wish you would come back, Una," wrote Miss Cassy, who, by the way, wrote exactly as she spoke20, "it seems so odd the long time you've been away. According to your instructions the Grange has been done up beautiful, and I'm sure you will see how my taste has improved it. It's not a bit dreary now, but bright and homelike, and I'm sure you and dear Reginald will love it when you see it again. I do so long to hear about your travels--Rome and Santa Lucia, you know--it's a song, isn't it----?"
Curiously21 enough, as Una was reading this the unseen minstrel below broke into the well-known air with its charming refrain. Reginald and Una looked at one another and laughed.
"What a wonderful coincidence," said Reginald, peering over the balcony to see the musician; "if we told that to Miss Cassy she wouldn't believe it; but never mind, go on with the letter."
"I got a letter from Dr. Nestley, the other day," read Una. "Of course, you know he married Cecilia Mosser, and went home to his own place, at some town in the North--I forget its name. He is quite reformed now, and makes an excellent husband. I hear he is making a good deal of money, and Cecilia is organist at a church up there. You remember how beautifully she played?"
"I'm glad they are happy," interrupted Reginald, heartily22. "Poor Nestley's life was nearly ruined by that scampish father of mine."
"I see Aunty says something about him," said Una, quickly. "She writes: 'In the letter I received from Dr. Nestley, he says he heard that Mr. Beaumont--you remember, Una?--who stayed at Garsworth--a charming man--is in America, and has married a very rich lady.'"
"I wish her joy of the bargain," said Reginald, grimly. "I suppose he has quite forgotten my poor mother."
"Never mind, dear," answered Una. "I'm sure your mother is much happier now."
"As a Sister of Mercy," said Reginald, in a musing23 tone, "poking24 about among the slums of London. It's a curious life for her to take up."
"I think she always had a leaning that way," replied Una, with a sigh; "and it will make her forget the past."
"I wish she would accept some money, to make her comfortable."
"I don't think she will," said Mrs. Garsworth, folding up the letter; "but when we go back again, perhaps she'll give up London, and come back to Garsworth."
"I'm afraid not," replied Reginald, gravely. "My mother is a woman of strong will, and she thinks she has a sin to expiate25, so she'll stay and labour there till she dies. Well, what else does Miss Cassy say?"
"Nothing particular," answered Una, putting the letter in her pocket. "Mrs. Larcher still labours under 'The Affliction.' Dr. Larcher has been to London, to attend some arch?ological meeting. Dick Pemberton has come in for his money and, Aunty thinks, has some idea of asking Pumpkin26 to be his wife."
"Pumpkin?" echoed Reginald, in a shocked tone. "No, Una, you forget--Eleanora Gwendoline."
They both laughed, and Una went on giving the news.
"Jellicks and Munks are both well, and Ferdinand Priggs is going to bring out a new volume of poems."
"Is he, really?" said Reginald, lightly. "Don't I pity the unhappy public! But all this news makes me home-sick, Una."
"I feel exactly the same," she replied, rising to her feet, and slipping her arm into that of her husband. "Let us go home again.'
"Yes, I think we will," said Reginald, after a pause, "I don't mind living at Garsworth, now you are with me, Una."
"And what about your voice?" she said, playfully. "Your wonderful voice, that was going to make your fortune?"
"Ah, that is a dream of the past," he said, half sadly. "I will settle down into a regular country squire27, Una, and the only use I'll make of my voice will be to sing Lady Bell to you."
Then, putting his arm round her, he sang the last verse of the quaint28 old ballad29:
"My Lady Bell, in gold brocade,
Looked not so fair and sweet a maid,
As when, in linsey woollen gown,
She left for love the noisy town."
His voice sounded rich and full in the mellow30 twilight31, while the minstrel below stopped playing, as he heard the song floating through the shadowy air. The sun had sunk into the sea, and the stars were shining brilliantly. One long bar of vivid light stretched along the verge32 of the horizon, and the air was full of shadows and the perfume of unseen flowers.
"See!" said Reginald, pointing towards the band of light, "it is like the dawn."
"Yes!--the dawn of a new life for you and for me, dear," she whispered; and then they wandered along the terrace, through the shadows, with the hoarse33 murmur34 of the distant sea in their ears, but in their hearts the new-born feelings of joy and contentment.
The End
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1
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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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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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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7
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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8
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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9
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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10
desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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11
crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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12
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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13
awesome
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| adj.令人惊叹的，难得吓人的，很好的 | |
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14
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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15
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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16
implicitly
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| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
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17
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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18
marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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19
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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20
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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21
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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22
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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23
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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24
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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25
expiate
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| v.抵补，赎罪 | |
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26
pumpkin
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| n.南瓜 | |
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27
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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28
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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29
ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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30
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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31
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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32
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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33
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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34
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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