On a fine April evening of the early eighties the staff of this particular station assembled on the platform at half-past six o’clock in readiness to receive the train{8} (which, save on market-days, was composed of an engine, two carriages, and the guard’s van), as it made its last down journey. There were no passengers to go forward towards Normanford, and the porter, according to custom, went out to the end of the platform as the train came into view, and held up his arms as a signal to the driver that he need not stop unless he had reasons of his own for doing so. To this signal the driver responded with two sharp shrieks3 of his whistle, on hearing which the porter turned away, put his hands in his pockets, and slouched back along the platform.
‘Somebody to set down, anyway, Mr. Simmons,’ said the booking-clerk with a look at the station-master. ‘I wonder who it is—I’ve only booked one up ticket to-day; James White it was, and he came back by the 2.30, so it isn’t him.’
The station-master made no reply, feeling that another moment would answer the question definitely. He walked forward as the train drew up, and amidst the harsh grinding of its wheels threw a greeting to the engine-driver, which he had already given four times that day and would give again as the train went back two hours later. His eyes, straying along the train, caught sight of a hand fumbling4 at the handle of a third-class compartment5, and he hastened to open the door.
‘It’s you, is it, Mr. Pepperdine?’ he said. ‘I wondered who was getting out—it’s not often that this train brings us a passenger.’
‘Two of us this time,’ answered the man thus addressed as he quickly descended6, nodding and smiling at the station-master and the booking-clerk; ‘two of us this time, Mr. Simmons. Ah!’ He drew a long breath of air as if the scent7 of the woods and fields did him good, and then turned to the open door of the carriage, within which stood a boy leisurely8 attiring9 himself in an overcoat. ‘Come, my lad,’ he said good-humouredly, ‘the train’ll be going on—let’s{9} see now, Mr. Simmons, there’s a portmanteau, a trunk, and a box in the van—perhaps Jim there’ll see they’re got out.’
The porter hurried off to the van; as he turned away the boy descended from the train, put his gloved hands in the pockets of his overcoat, and stared about him with a deliberate and critical expression. His glance ran over the station, the creeping plants on the station-master’s house, the station-master, and the booking-clerk; his companion, meanwhile, was staring hard at a patch of bright green beyond the fence and smiling with evident enjoyment10.
‘I’ll see that the things are all right,’ said the boy suddenly, and strode off to the van. The porter had already brought out a portmanteau and a trunk; he and the guard were now struggling with a larger obstacle in the shape of a packing-case which taxed all their energies.
‘It’s a heavy ’un, this is!’ panted the guard. ‘You might be carrying all the treasure of the Bank of England in here, young master.’
‘Books,’ said the boy laconically11. ‘They are heavy. Be careful, please—don’t let the box drop.’
There was a note in his voice which the men were quick to recognise—the note of command and of full expectancy12 that his word would rank as law. He stood by, anxious of eye and keenly observant, while the men lowered the packing-case to the platform; behind him stood Mr. Pepperdine, the station-master, and the booking-clerk, mildly interested.
‘There!’ said the guard. ‘We ha’n’t given her a single bump. Might ha’ been the delicatest chiny, the way we handled it.’
He wiped his brow with a triumphant13 wave of the hand. The boy, still regarding the case with grave, speculative14 eyes, put his hand in his pocket, drew forth15 a shilling, and with a barely perceptible glance at the guard, dropped it in his hand. The man stared, smiled, pocketed the gift, and touched his cap. He{10} waved his green flag vigorously; in another moment the train was rattling16 away into the shadow of the woods.
Mr. Pepperdine stepped up to the boy’s side and gazed at the packing-case.
‘It’ll never go in my trap, lad,’ he said, scratching his chin. ‘It’s too big and too heavy. We must send a horse and cart for it in the morning.’
‘But where shall we leave it?’ asked the boy, with evident anxiety.
‘We’ll put it in the warehouse17, young master,’ said the porter. ‘It’ll be all right there. I’ll see that no harm comes to it.’
The boy, however, demanded to see the warehouse, and assured himself that it was water-tight and would be locked up. He issued strict mandates18 to the porter as to his safe-keeping of the packing-case, presented him also with a shilling, and turned away unconcernedly, as if the matter were now settled. Mr. Pepperdine took the porter in hand.
‘Jim,’ he said, ‘my trap’s at the Grange; maybe you could put that trunk and portmanteau on a barrow and bring them down in a while? No need to hurry—I shall have a pipe with Mr. Trippett before going on.’
‘All right, sir,’ answered the porter. ‘I’ll bring ’em both down in an hour or so.’
‘Come on, then, lad,’ said Mr. Pepperdine, nodding good-night to the station-master, and leading the way to the gate. ‘Eh, but it’s good to be back where there’s some fresh air! Can you smell it, boy?’
The boy threw up his face, and sniffed19 the fragrance20 of the woods. There had been April showers during the afternoon, and the air was sweet and cool: he drew it in with a relish21 that gratified the countryman at his side.
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘I smell it—it’s beautiful.’
‘Ah, so it is!’ said Mr. Pepperdine; ‘as beautiful as—as—well, as anything. Yes, it is so, my lad.’
The boy looked up and laughed, and Mr. Pepperdine{11} laughed too. He had no idea why he laughed, but it pleased him to do so; it pleased him, too, to hear the boy laugh. But when the boy’s face grew grave again Mr. Pepperdine’s countenance22 composed itself and became equally grave and somewhat solicitous23. He looked out of his eye-corners at the slim figure walking at his side, and wondered what other folk would think of his companion. ‘A nice, smart-looking boy,’ said Mr. Pepperdine to himself for the hundredth time; ‘nice, gentlemanlike boy, and a credit to anybody.’ Mr. Pepperdine felt proud to have such a boy in his company, and prouder still to know that the boy was his nephew and ward2.
The boy thus speculated upon was a lad of twelve, somewhat tall for his age, of a slim, well-knit figure, a handsome face, and a confidence of manner and bearing that seemed disproportionate to his years. He walked with easy, natural grace; his movements were lithe24 and sinuous25; the turn of his head, as he looked up at Mr. Pepperdine, or glanced at the overhanging trees in the lane, was smart and alert; it was easy to see that he was naturally quick in action and in perception. His face, which Mr. Pepperdine had studied a good deal during the past week, was of a type which is more often met with in Italy than in England. The forehead was broad and high, and crowned by a mass of thick, blue-black hair that clustered and waved all over the head, and curled into rings at the temples; the brows were straight, dark, and full; the nose and mouth delicately but strongly carved; the chin square and firm; obstinacy26, pride, determination, were all there, and already stiffening27 into permanence. But in this face, so Italian, so full of the promise of passion, there were eyes of an essentially28 English type, almost violet in colour, gentle, soft, dreamy, shaded by long black lashes29, and it was in them that Mr. Pepperdine found the thing he sought for when he looked long and wistfully at his dead sister’s son.
Mr. Pepperdine’s present scrutiny30 passed from the{12} boy’s face to the boy’s clothes. It was not often, he said to himself, that such a well-dressed youngster was seen in those parts. His nephew was clothed in black from head to foot; his hat was surrounded by a mourning-band; a black tie, fashioned into a smart knot, and secured by an antique cameo-pin, encircled his spotless man’s collar: every garment was shaped as if its wearer had been the most punctilious31 man about town; his neat boots shone like mirrors. The boy was a dandy in miniature, and it filled Mr. Pepperdine with a vast amusement to find him so. He chuckled32 inwardly, and was secretly proud of a youngster who, as he had recently discovered, could walk into a fashionable tailor’s and order exactly what he wanted with an evident determination to get it. But Mr. Pepperdine himself was a rustic33 dandy. Because of the necessities of a recent occasion he was at that moment clad in sober black—his Sunday-and-State-Occasion’s suit—but at home he possessed34 many wonderful things in the way of riding-breeches, greatcoats ornamented35 with pearl buttons as big as saucers, and sprigged waistcoats which were the despair of the young country bucks36, who were forced to admit that Simpson Pepperdine knew a thing or two about the fashion and was a man of style. It was natural, then, Mr. Pepperdine should be pleased to find his nephew a petit-ma?tre—it gratified an eye which was never at any time indisposed to regard the vanities of this world with complaisance37.
Mr. Pepperdine, striding along at the boy’s side, presented the cheerful aspect of a healthy countryman. He was a tall, well-built man, rosy38 of face, bright of eye, a little on the wrong side of forty, and rather predisposed to stoutness39 of figure, but firm and solid in his tread, and as yet destitute41 of a grey hair. In his sable42 garments and his high hat—bought a week before in London itself, and of the latest fashionable shape—he looked very distinguished43, and no one could have taken him for less than a churchwarden and a large ratepayer. His air of distinction was further improved by the fact{13} that he was in uncommonly45 good spirits—he had spent a week in London on business of a sorrowful nature, and he was glad to be home again amongst his native woods and fields. He sniffed the air as he walked, and set his feet down as if the soil belonged to him, and his eyes danced with satisfaction.
The boy suddenly uttered a cry of delight, and stopped, pointing down a long vista46 of the woods. Mr. Pepperdine turned in the direction indicated, and beheld47 a golden patch of daffodils.
‘Daffy-down-dillies,’ said Mr. Pepperdine. ‘And very pretty too. But just you wait till you see the woods about Simonstower. I always did say that Wellsby woods were nought48 to our woods—ah, you should see the bluebells49! And as for primroses—well, they could stock all Covent Garden market in London town with ’em, and have enough for next day into the bargain, so they could. Very pretty is them daffies, very pretty, but I reckon there’s something a deal prettier to be seen in a minute or two, for here’s the Grange, and Mrs. Trippett has an uncommon44 nice way of setting out a tea-table.’
The boy turned from the glowing patch of colour to look at another attractive picture. They had rounded the edge of the wood on their right hand, and now stood gazing at a peculiarly English scene—a green paddock, fenced from the road by neat railings, painted white, at the further end of which, shaded by a belt of tall elms, stood a many-gabled farmhouse50, with a flower-garden before its front door and an orchard51 at its side. The farm-buildings rose a little distance in rear of the house; beyond them was the stackyard, still crowded with wheat and barley52 stacks; high over everything rose a pigeon-cote, about the weather-vane of which flew countless53 pigeons. In the paddock were ewes and lambs; cattle and horses looked over the wall of the fold; the soft light of the April evening lay on everything like a benediction54.
‘Wellsby Grange,’ said Mr. Pepperdine, pushing{14} open a wicket-gate in the white fence and motioning the boy to enter. ‘The abode55 of Mr. and Mrs. Trippett, very particular friends of mine. I always leave my trap here when I have occasion to go by train—it would be sent over this morning, and we shall find it all ready for us presently.’
The boy followed his uncle up the path to the side-door of the farmhouse, his eyes taking in every detail of the scene. He was staring about him when the door opened, and revealed a jolly-faced, red-cheeked man with sandy whiskers and very blue eyes, who grinned delightedly at sight of Mr. Pepperdine, and held out a hand of considerable proportions.
‘We were just looking out for you,’ said he. ‘We heard the whistle, and the missis put the kettle on to boil up that minute. Come in, Simpson—come in, my lad—you’re heartily56 welcome. Now then, missis—they’re here.’
A stout40, motherly-looking woman, with cherry-coloured ribbons in a nodding cap that crowned a head of glossy57 dark hair, came bustling58 to the door.
‘Come in, come in, Mr. Pepperdine—glad to see you safe back,’ said she. ‘And this’ll be your little nevvy. Come in, love, come in—you must be tired wi’ travelling all that way.’
The boy took off his hat with a courtly gesture, and stepped into the big, old-fashioned kitchen. He looked frankly59 at the farmer and his wife, and the woman, noting his beauty with quick feminine perception, put her arm round his neck and drew him to her.
‘Eh, but you’re a handsome lad!’ she said. ‘Come straight into the parlour and sit you down—the tea’ll be ready in a minute. What’s your name, my dear?’
The boy looked up at her—Mrs. Trippett’s memory, at the sight of his eyes, went back to the days of her girlhood.
‘My name is Lucian,’ he answered.
Mrs. Trippett looked at him again as if she had scarcely heard him reply to her question. She sighed,{15} and with a sudden impetuous tenderness bent60 down and kissed him warmly on the cheek.
‘Off with your coat, my dear,’ she said cheerily. ‘And if you’re cold, sit down by the fire—if it is spring, it’s cold enough for fires at night. Now I’ll be back in a minute, and your uncle and the master’ll be coming—I lay they’ve gone to look at a poorly horse that we’ve got just now—and then we’ll have tea.’
She bustled61 from the room, the cherry-coloured ribbons streaming behind her. The boy, left alone, took off his overcoat and gloves, and laid them aside with his hat; then he put his hands in the pockets of his trousers, and examined his new surroundings.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
ward
|
|
| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
shrieks
|
|
| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
fumbling
|
|
| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
compartment
|
|
| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
attiring
|
|
| v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
laconically
|
|
| adv.简短地，简洁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
expectancy
|
|
| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
triumphant
|
|
| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
speculative
|
|
| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
rattling
|
|
| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
warehouse
|
|
| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
mandates
|
|
| 托管（mandate的第三人称单数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
sniffed
|
|
| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
fragrance
|
|
| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
relish
|
|
| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
solicitous
|
|
| adj.热切的，挂念的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
lithe
|
|
| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
sinuous
|
|
| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
obstinacy
|
|
| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
stiffening
|
|
| n. (使衣服等)变硬的材料, 硬化 动词stiffen的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
essentially
|
|
| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
lashes
|
|
| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
scrutiny
|
|
| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
punctilious
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，谨小慎微的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
chuckled
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
rustic
|
|
| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
ornamented
|
|
| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
bucks
|
|
| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
complaisance
|
|
| n.彬彬有礼，殷勤，柔顺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
stoutness
|
|
| 坚固，刚毅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
destitute
|
|
| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
sable
|
|
| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
uncommon
|
|
| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
uncommonly
|
|
| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
vista
|
|
| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
beheld
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
nought
|
|
| n.／adj.无，零 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
bluebells
|
|
| n.圆叶风铃草( bluebell的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
farmhouse
|
|
| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
orchard
|
|
| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
barley
|
|
| n.大麦，大麦粒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
countless
|
|
| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
benediction
|
|
| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
glossy
|
|
| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
bustling
|
|
| adj.喧闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
bustled
|
|
| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |