Alas6! he could no longer flatter himself with doubts regarding his feeling for the young American beauty, indulge in mental analyses. He had forgotten Styr, his ambitions, his calm belief in himself and his star. But one woman, one object, existed on this earth for him, and he only paused to wonder that he had ever thought himself incapable7 of love. No man ever got sharper wounds from the archaic8 darts9. He was sentimentally10, passionately11, wretchedly in love. He thought of nothing else. For the first time in his life appetite and sleep were affected12. Several people from whom he had received much hospitality while in Paris paid a short visit to London and sought him out as a matter of course. He took no notice of them. Styr, at last, found time to write him a long letter. He did not even read it. He forgot the existence of the Foreign Office.
Meanwhile, he saw the young lady daily. If she had been merely indifferent before, she was now almost rude, regretting, no doubt, her girlish recrudescence. Mrs. Cutting, were it possible, was even more impressive in her attentions to him. He felt as if tossed between fire and ice, and although this torment14 had its fascination15, he sometimes wished that the mother would gratify the daughter and turn him out. Then he could flee to the ends of the earth, and make some attempt to extinguish the flames that devoured16 him. He was quite aware of his changed appearance, and one morning, while brushing his hair and scowling17 at his nervous white face, recalled what Styr had said about young people in the ferment18 of first love being the mere13 victims of the race, reversions to type. That, no doubt, was what was the matter with him, and it was no consolation19 to reflect that it was so much good passion thrown away. If a man had to undergo such torments20, why, in heaven’s name, didn’t the girl catch the fever? He should not in the least mind being one of Nature’s victims if he were permitted to be happy with a fellow-victim. Otherwise, there was no sense in it.
The tennis games were abandoned, as he slept late after his bad nights, and Hines, after one conscientious21 attempt to awaken22 him, declined the office of mentor23 a second time. But he spent a part of every day in Grosvenor Square, from which he could not keep away; although he believed that no old-time martyr24 boiling in a cauldron and pinched with red-hot nippers ever suffered such agonies as his. But at last pride revolted, his spirit cried out under its crushing load, and he had an attack of acute indigestion. He pointedly25 broke an engagement for luncheon26, and presented himself at five o’clock determined27 to say good-by and leave England next day. He should not return to Munich, for he never wanted to see another woman; probably he should go out to India and remodel28 himself upon the commonplace family likeness29 by shooting tigers and sending home the skins.
The ladies were shopping, he was informed, and he was shown up to the small drawing-room to await them. But the small drawing-room would not hold him, and he roamed about the beautiful rooms whose furniture and decorations had once whispered to him of sweet love-tragedies, as well as of terrible dramas involving the collapse31 into blood or obscurity of the historic families that had loved them. But to-day they had no confidences for Ordham. He came upon a door ajar. It led into a small room that he had never seen, but he did not hesitate to enter, as Mrs. Cutting had made him feel at home long since. He saw at a glance that this must be Mabel’s boudoir, and drew back. Beyond the threshold, however, he was powerless to retreat; he stood trembling, fascinated, feeling himself in the presence of a subtle betrayal of the secrecies32 of maidenhood,—such as he sometimes fancied emanated33 from the young girl herself. He had never dreamed that a girl could be so sacred and beautiful, so mysterious a creature. He turned pale and lost his breath.
It was a very simple room to his masculine eye, with its white flowered silks and white enamelled furniture, but as unmistakably luxurious34 as the rest of the house. Suddenly his eye was caught by a bookcase above the writing table. This temptation was irresistible35, and in a moment he was eagerly scanning the titles of the haughty36 beauty’s chosen literature. It was with something of a shock that he discovered the books to be the essays of Macaulay, the novels of Scott and Dickens, and a selected volume of Shakspere’s plays, as he had read all of these works and more in his earliest teens. It could not be possible that this represented the girl’s idea of erudition, her mother’s disappointment in her beauty’s untimely development of bookish tastes? But what of it? Ordham was too far gone in love and despair to be seriously affected by a minor37 disappointment, although it might have staggered him a month earlier. Poor ambitious child! What opportunities at a fashionable school in Paris, studying “art,” music, and three languages, to delve38 into literature! If she had but just begun to read, at least she had not begun with trash, and that she had begun at all was the vital point. Again he was turning away, and again he received a shock. The drawer of the desk was half open. His gaze, as it dropped from the bookcase, rested upon three letters from his mother. The ink was fresh. The postmark was conspicuously39 “Paris.”
He afterwards described his sensations at that moment as of a lighted torch trying to force its way from the base of his skull40 through the dull inert41 mass of his brain to his upper consciousness. But at a certain stage love is a disease analogous42 to death. The brain, if not disintegrated43, is very nearly so, for it is worn out by implacable thought, despair, brooding on the impossible. It is, after long tension, a flabby mass, through which the angry watchers in the subconsciousness44 can find no avenue, force not a cry of warning. Normally with a brain so alert that the utmost caution and tact45 were necessary in the handling of him, even although his full share of masculine vanity made him as easy game as most men, the least slip would have roused Ordham’s suspicions and set him on his guard; but, his brain demoralized by the greensickness of love, he was as far beyond rescue as if he had been born a fool.
He was staring stupidly at the letters, mechanically striving to reach their significance, when a footstep on the polished floor of the drawing-room made him retreat hastily, trembling at the prospect46 of confronting the indignant Mabel and receiving summary dismissal. So great was his discomposure he did not notice that the footsteps were too heavy for a woman, and was astonished to confront a young man, an uncommonly47 good-looking young man, with a frank well-bred face and an athletic48 spare figure. Ordham divined at once that here was the handsome American cousin whose advent49 he had dreaded50. Unconsciously he threw back his own shoulders. His eyes became excessively cold, his manner almost unbearably51 polite.
“No doubt you are Mr. Driscom,” he said. “Mrs. Cutting has spoken of you to me.”
“And you are Mr. Ordham, of course.” The American shook the Englishman warmly by the hand, but received no sort of pressure in response. He wondered, as he had done during previous visits to London, what American women could see in Englishmen.
“Mrs. Cutting is my second cousin,” he said. “She has often mentioned you in her letters. The butler tells me they will be back in a moment. I suppose we may smoke.”
His voice was agreeable and cultivated, his manner easy and cordial. Ordham noticed with intense annoyance52 that there was nothing here to ridicule53 and despise. Margarethe Styr had talked to him of this fine type of the young American, and Driscom reminded him of the gallant54 youth who had stood by her to the last on the wrecked55 steamer. He felt that in ordinary circumstances he should have warmed to him, but now he hated and feared him; were thought as potent56 as one day it may be, poor Driscom would have expired of poison in every vein57.
But the American, who seemed drawn58 to that courteous59 smiling exterior60, talked amiably61 of the yachting news in the evening telegrams, and of yachting in general, smoking steadily62 the while. It was manifest that he felt quite at home, was doing the honors, in fact! No doubt he would be staying in the house, these Americans were so infernally hospitable63.
Fortunately the tête-à-tête was not long enough to exhaust Ordham’s falling stock of patience. Mrs. Cutting swept into the room, followed by Mabel and LaLa. Driscom sprang to his feet and kissed his second cousin warmly. Ordham held his breath, expecting to commit murder were Mabel also saluted64. When the young lady merely held out her hand with a radiant smile, his apprehension65 increased. A kiss might have meant nothing. Were they not cousins and old friends? This formality—before him—might be portentous66.
But Mrs. Cutting gave him little time for thought. She apologized for being late, dilated67 upon “their” disappointment at his desertion of them earlier in the day, and insisted that he remain informally for dinner. He replied with cold decision, and with a full return of his old dignity, that he must “wander along,” as he was dining with some friends and had promised to look in upon others. “People were returning to town.” He had made up his mind that he would not even tell them of his intended departure; a note posted at the station would suffice. Mrs. Cutting, who had regarded him intently, laid her hand firmly on his arm. “I shall not let you go yet awhile,” she said. “I must confer with Bobby at once, so that he may cable to-night, and meanwhile please talk to Mabel until I can come back and pour out the tea.”
She gave him no chance to reply. Taking “Bobby” by the arm, she swept him out the room, darting68 a swift look of command at her daughter.
Mabel turned pale, but she came forward with her usual girlish grace. “Do sit down,” she said. “You look as if you never intended to sit down again.”
“It is not worth while to sit down—to detain you. I really must go.”
“You don’t intend to come back!”
He looked steadily into her dilated eyes, wondering if he hated her, and betrayed himself. “No,” he said. “I shall not come back.” Then he paused abruptly69, and physically70 braced71 himself. She had dropped her eyelashes, and he was quite prepared for the coquettish net that would float from those slowly uplifting orbs72. But when he met them, he saw only terror and appeal. Mabel’s face looked suddenly pinched and white. Then she burst into tears, and he was swept on that flood straight through the gates of Paradise.
When they descended73 to earth and were seated on a little sofa in the remotest corner, he demanded an explanation of the torments imposed upon him during the past fortnight. “You say you have always loved me,” he said with automatic masculine logic74. “Why, in heaven’s name, didn’t you accept me the first time?”
“I couldn’t be sure—that you really loved me—you seemed to me to be taken by surprise. Besides, I think I wanted to punish you for not having loved me all that long time. I had to be rude and horrid—it was that or betray myself. I don’t think I ever believed that you really loved me till just now. I don’t believe you knew it yourself.”
“Oh, yes, I did,” he replied grimly. “I was so far gone that I became utterly75 uninteresting.”
“No—but you made me believe that you were miserable76 because you had proposed to me impulsively77 and could not think of a way out of it. My only consolation was that I had refused you. But I was ashamed every time I thought of how I had led you on that day—and I had vowed78 never to be silly and flirt79 again. And then—well, it cannot be denied that mother has thrown me at your head, and that made me really hate you at times, so that it was easier to be rude.”
“Your mother was beautifully frank.” Ordham was somewhat confused by the number of apologetic reasons advanced, but wholly happy. They talked more or less wildly for an hour. Then Ordham, hearing the swish of Mrs. Cutting’s gown, stood up, flushed and nervous, but so determined not to look sheepish, that he was as formal as an aged30 diplomatist when his future mother-in-law took both his hands and looked at him with eyes that were really soft. “Thank heaven!” she said with the simplicity80 appropriate to great moments. “I know that you will both be happy. And how grateful I am that you have not put off making up your minds any longer. Bobby tells me that I must go to New York. It is imperative81. But now I can leave Mabel with you, instead of drying her eyes and distracting her mind for six months, when I should be giving all my attention to business.”
Of course he remained to dinner, and before he left he had another half-hour alone with Mabel. An excellent repast, the interesting conversation of Driscom, whom he now liked as much as he had hated a few hours earlier, unruffled bliss82, and the prospect of almost immediate83 marriage, had clarified and braced his normally acute and steady brain. They were sitting among the fragrant84 flowers of the balcony when he told her abruptly of his incursion into her private little domain85, and added: “As it has excited my curiosity, I may as well tell you at once that I saw several letters from my mother in the drawer of your desk, and ask you to explain. I do not want to be annoyed by petty imaginings. You don’t mind?”
The hand he held had grown cold, but when he turned his head he met suffused86 and smiling eyes.
“I might as well confess! I wrote to Lady Bridgminster imploring87 her to withdraw her opposition—not to hate me—I know how great her influence over you is—”
“She has not a particle of influence over me. What did she reply? How enchanting88 of you!”
“Oh, she was quite nice. I believe she said that she had washed her hands of the matter of your marriage, since you would not marry Lady Rosamond. Should you like to read the letters?” She half rose.
“Of course not.” And knowing somewhat of the fecundity89 of the feminine pen, it did not strike him as odd that his mother should have found it worth while to write this epitome90 of her disgust three times.
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1
blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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2
magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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3
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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6
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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7
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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8
archaic
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| adj.(语言、词汇等)古代的，已不通用的 | |
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9
darts
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| n.掷飞镖游戏；飞镖( dart的名词复数 )；急驰，飞奔v.投掷，投射( dart的第三人称单数 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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10
sentimentally
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| adv.富情感地 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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13
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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14
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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15
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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16
devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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17
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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18
ferment
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| vt.使发酵；n./vt.（使）激动，（使）动乱 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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torments
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| （肉体或精神上的）折磨，痛苦( torment的名词复数 )； 造成痛苦的事物[人] | |
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21
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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22
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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23
mentor
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| n.指导者，良师益友；v.指导 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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remodel
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| v.改造，改型，改变 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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32
secrecies
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| 保密（secrecy的复数形式） | |
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emanated
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| v.从…处传出，传出( emanate的过去式和过去分词 )；产生，表现，显示 | |
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34
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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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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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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38
delve
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| v.深入探究，钻研 | |
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conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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40
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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41
inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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42
analogous
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| adj.相似的；类似的 | |
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43
disintegrated
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| v.（使）破裂[分裂，粉碎]，（使）崩溃( disintegrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
subconsciousness
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| 潜意识；下意识 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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46
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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48
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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49
advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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50
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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51
unbearably
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| adv.不能忍受地，无法容忍地；慌 | |
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52
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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53
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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54
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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55
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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56
potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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57
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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58
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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59
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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60
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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61
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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62
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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63
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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64
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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65
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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66
portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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67
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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69
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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70
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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71
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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72
orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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73
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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74
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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75
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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76
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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77
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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78
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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79
flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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80
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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81
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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82
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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83
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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84
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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85
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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86
suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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88
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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89
fecundity
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| n.生产力；丰富 | |
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90
epitome
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| n.典型，梗概 | |
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