And, oftentimes, there was a subtile harmony, almost amounting to sympathy, between his lonely moods, and the soft, rich, yet melancholy7, Southern landscape,—for melancholy it always seemed to him, though that effect may have been partly owing to the gray medium of isolation8 and depression through which he viewed it. But, whatever its origin, this gentle mournfulness was the landscape's consummate9 charm,—at least, for any burdened human heart. It is possible that Eden wore a soft grace of pensive10 beauty, after the fall, which Adam and Eve, wandering back thither11, would have counted a dearer delight, in their then mood, than its old, unshadowed brightness.
On his way out, Bergan found Nix stretched at full length across the threshold. With the usual preference of his race for masculine over feminine society, the dog had early attached himself to the young man, as much as was consistent with a different ownership. He now rose, shook himself, wagged his tail, and looked wistfully in Bergan's face. Meeting with no rebuff, he made bold to follow him.
Leaving the town behind as quickly as possible, Bergan first struck into a long, lonely lane, shut in, on either side, by a thick border of multifarious foliage12. Trees and shrubs13, both deciduous14 and evergreen15, not only mingled16 their boughs17 along its sides, but were tied together in an intricate polygamous knot by tangled18 vines. There was an endless diversity of form and color,—every shape of leaf, and every hue19 and shade of green and brown, with occasional tints20 of red, purple, and orange, both pale and bright,—and everywhere the gray fringe of the Spanish moss21.
By and by, the lane terminated in the inevitable22 pine barren, which frames all Southern landscape pictures. It stretched away, in every direction, as far as the eye could reach,—a vast, dim solitude23, with a thick, blue-green roof, upheld by innumerable slender columns, and a carpet of fallen needles, on which the foot fell without a sound. A mysterious sigh pervaded24 it, even when no breeze was astir; its light was but a gentle gloom; and it had a soft, aromatic25 atmosphere of its own, as if it were another world. No fitter place could have been found for the indulgence of a youthful day dream, with enough of inherent light and color to overcome the prevailing26 sombreness, or, at least, to set itself in stronger relief against so darksome a background. But to Bergan, the vast, dim monotony, with its suggestive correspondence to the circumstances of his own life, brought only added heartache. The chance openings into the sky were so few, and the sunshine never fell save flickeringly, at the farther extremity27 of some long vista28! He soon began to yearn29 for outlook and aspiration30, some spot affording at least a glimpse of the surrounding world, as well as a fair look at the open sky. Happily, he knew where to find it.
Long since, he had discovered for himself a convenient and attractive out-door haunt,—a kind of natural amphitheatre, on the edge of one of the numerous bays, or creeks31, of the vicinity. Great, patriarchal live-oaks, with hoary32 beards of moss trailing even to the ground, had ranged themselves in a semi-circle, on a high bank, overlooking the water. Standing33 in attitudes of ponderous34 grace, each one scattered35 shade and quietude over fifty, sixty, or, it might be, an hundred, feet of sward. Through a broad opening, in the midst of the dignified36 circle, the cheerful sunshine fell unbrokenly; and on the water-side, there was a fair stretch of blue waves, with a sea-green horizon-line afar; and over all, a wide half-dome of sky, with its changeable tracery of clouds, and its transparent37 concord38 of color. It was hard to believe that the hand of man had not wrought39 with that of nature, to produce a spot so perfect. Many a sunset had Bergan enjoyed there; many a twilight40 had he mused41 away, under the rustling42 oak-boughs; many a time, the rising moon had found him there, and surrounded him with weird43 enchantment44.
All along, this spot had been the goal of his steps, though—by way of trying first what help and heart were to be found in exercise—he had chosen to reach it by a most circumlocutory45 route. So far as he knew, it was his own, by right of occupancy, as well as discovery; never had it showed a sign that it knew the pressure of any other human foot.
As he drew near, the sun was sending long, slanting46 beams of ruddy light athwart the amphitheatre, and dyeing the polished oak-leaves in rich tints of gold and orange. He quickened his steps, the sooner to reach the point whence sunset-splendors were to be seen to the best advantage; and upon which he had taken occasion to construct a low, rustic48 seat.
To his amazement49, it was already occupied. A lady was quietly seated therein, her cheek resting on her hand, her eyes (as he judged from her pose, for her back was toward him) fixed50 on the glowing sky.
He stopped short, uncertain whether to advance or retreat.
Nix—who had lingered behind, to make a feint of hunting a squirrel—settled the question for him. Coming upon the scene, he first sniffed51 the air, and then dashed at the intruder. Fearing lest his intentions might be unfriendly,—or, at least, that the lady would be startled by his sudden appearance,—Bergan sternly called after him;—
"Nix! Nix! Here! Come back, you scamp!"
But Nix, if he heard, certainly did not heed52. He was fawning53 upon the lady, in a way to indicate a previous acquaintance of considerable standing and intimacy54. She, on her part, received his rude caresses55 quite as a matter of course, and cordially patted his rough head. Then she turned to Bergan.
"Nix does not mean to be disobedient," said she, apologetically. "Only, he recognizes in me an older friend than Mr. Arling, and, perhaps,"—she smiled,—"a superseding56 authority."
Bergan bowed. "He is fortunate," said he,—"that is, in finding a friend, old or new, where he did not look for one."
He spoke57 with a slight bitterness of tone, in involuntary recognition of the fact that no such pleasant discovery was ever the reward of his own aimless rambles58. At the same time, he looked curiously59 at the lady, seeking a clue to her identity. She had seemed to know him; yet he could not remember that he had ever met her before.
Apparently60, she was young; certainly, she was small, and somewhat slender. Without being absolutely pretty, her face was exceedingly interesting, by reason of its mobility61 and vivacity62 of expression;—albeit, its changes were not always to be easily understood, nor its language at once interpreted. Her eyes were of the darkest gray, with a clear and penetrative glance, that seemed to go straight to the depths of whatever object they sought. Her manner, though perfectly63 feminine, had an air of strength and energy, in marked contrast with the languid grace which is the more frequent product of Southern soil. She was very simply dressed,—in some soft, gray material, the one beauty of which was its ability to fall in artistic64 folds about her figure;—nevertheless, there was a certain pleasant peculiarity66, a kind of sober picturesqueness67, about her attire68, that lifted it more surely out of the region of the common-place than any richness of texture69, or newness of fashion, could have done. Moreover, it satisfied the eye with a sense of fitness; it was plainly the legitimate70 outgrowth of the wearer's character. Not that it bid defiance71 to fashion, but it did not conform to it to the extent of a complete sacrifice of individuality.
Her only ornament72 was a cluster of bright scarlet73 leaves, that she had doubtless found on her way thither, and fastened on her breast; and which an opportune74 sun-ray now touched into vivid splendor47. This, too, suited her. It seemed the subtile outward expression of some correspondingly warm and rich characteristic within; glowing soft against the gray texture of an otherwise grave, earnest, almost severe character. It might be sparkling wit, or warm affections, or both, that were thus pleasantly symbolized75.
She met Bergan's curious glance with a quiet smile, that seemed to understand its object, and enjoy, beforehand, its discomfiture76. She even answered it with a brief scrutiny77, that was hardly less in earnest, though not at all puzzled,—scarcely, even, inquiring.
At this moment, the sun suddenly disappeared. The two faces, that had been so clearly and ruddily lit up by his declining beams, were left pale and shadowed, looking at each other under the solemn old trees; through the branches of which the wind now began to whisper softly, as if moved to utter some sombre prediction, which yet it could not make quite plain.
"Do you believe in omens78?" asked the young lady, with a kind of playful shiver.
"Not at all," answered Bergan, looking a little surprised.
"It is as well that you do not. For I suspect that they are like certain modes of medical treatment; they require a large element of faith to make them efficacious. And, to say truth, neither do I believe in them—except in a poetical79 way. If I did, I should say that this sudden shadow augurs80 but badly for our future acquaintance, and influence upon each other."
"If it means," replied Bergan, "that we are to know sunshine and shade together, little more could be predicted—or desired—of any earthly acquaintance."
"Perhaps not. Still, as I do believe in omens, as I said before, in a poetical way, I am glad to see that the sun is not really set, after all. He only sank into a deceptive81 line of cloud. There! he comes forth82 again, to give us another bright glance before his final leave-taking. And, in order to leave the omen4 in its present satisfactory state, I will anticipate his departure. Good evening."
Slightly inclining her head, as she passed Bergan, she quickly disappeared under the low-hanging oak boughs.
Nix looked after her, for a moment; then he turned to Bergan, as if wondering why he did not go, too. Seeing no sign of departure, he was about to fling himself upon the ground, when a clear, sweet whistle suddenly sounded from the direction which the young lady had taken. Pricking83 up his ears, he instantly set off at a great pace; leaving Bergan with a vague sadness, as having been deserted84 by his last friend.
However, the feeling was but momentary85. Very quickly he turned to the consideration of the interesting question who his late interlocutor might be. Running over in his mind all the branches of the family of Bergan, in the neighborhood (of which there were several, more or less direct), he soon decided86 that she did not harmonize with what he knew of any of them. Yet she had seemed to know him; and to think, and even to intimate, that they were likely to meet again, and possibly to exert a degree of influence upon each other's lives. And still, as he pondered and questioned, the oak trees kept whispering overhead, with all their multitudinous tongues, an apparently full, but unintelligible87, explanation.
He bewildered himself with conjectures88, until all the sunset tints had faded from the sky, and darkness was fast gathering89 under the oak boughs. Then he rose, and went his solitary way homeward.
Arrived at Mrs. Lyte's gate, it seemed to him that there was an unusual stir and liveliness about the house. Certainly, a broad beam of light was shining across the hall, from a door that he had never before seen open. Ere he could think what these things betokened90, Cathie came running to meet him, with a great piece of news in her beaming face.
"Oh! Mr. Arling!" she exclaimed, in almost breathless delight, "Astra has come!"
The mystery was at an end. Indeed it could scarcely have been a mystery, but for two concurrent91 circumstances. In the first place, knowing Miss Lyte to be an artist,—or at least, an art-student,—and possessed92 of a sufficiently93 independent character and spirit, he had unconsciously sketched94 a portrait of her in his fancy, very different from the original,—taller, larger, with more color, and, certainly, less feminine. And, secondly95, only the day before, he had heard Mrs. Lyte lamenting96 that her daughter would not be at home for another month.
A sudden turn of circumstances, however, had wrought an equally sudden change in Miss Lyte's plans; and, taking advantage of the opportune escort afforded by a business trip of a friend, she had journeyed southward with such celerity as to outstrip97 the letter of announcement that she had dispatched, a day before her departure from New York. Reaching home almost immediately after Bergan had gone out for his solitary stroll, she had spent the afternoon in a long, earnest, circumstantial talk with her mother,—discussing her plans and prospects,—throwing off, with careless fluency98, vivid picture upon picture of her art life and work in the city,—listening eagerly to interjectional items of home news,—and cheering Mrs. Lyte's heart, through and through, with her bright spirits, her ready, yet healthful, sympathy, and the inspiring energy both of her manner and mind. With the very sight of her, more than half the widow's burden of sorrow and care had slipped unconsciously from her shoulders.
Finally, toward sunset, foreseeing an unusual amount of sky-splendor, she had gone forth for a brief enjoyment99 of it to her old, favorite haunt,—the oak glade100 which Bergan had also discovered and taken into favor. Meeting the young man there, she had instantly recognized him,—by reason of Nix's suggestive companionship, and her mother's recent description,—and had taken an innocent pleasure in subjecting him to a transient mystification.
"She gave us such a surprise," went on Cathie, joyously101. "Mamma almost fainted, and I—guess what I did, Mr. Arling."
To please her, Bergan guessed what he supposed to be the most unlikely thing; and so, in consequence of the child's peculiar65 character, he guessed right.
"Doubtless, you cried," said he.
"So I did," replied Cathie, opening her eyes wide, "though I can't see how you knew it. But I thought I was laughing, all the time, till Astra asked me why I was so sorry to see her, and offered to go away again if the sight of her was so painful!' And that made me laugh, in good earnest! And oh! Mr. Arling, do come and see her little white boy! She has just been unpacking102 him, to show him to mamma."
"Willingly," replied Bergan, "if you are sure that she would like me to see him."
"I'll ask her," replied Cathie, darting103 through the open doorway104 at the left, whence came the broad beam of light aforementioned, and through which Bergan caught a glimpse of Mrs. Lyte's black-draped figure, seated at the farther corner of the room, in an attitude of pleased contemplation of some object not within his range of vision.
The next moment, Miss Lyte herself appeared on the threshold, and, seeing by his face that his mystification was over, she frankly105 held out her hand to him.
"So you have found me out!" said she, laughing. "Was it wicked in me not to answer that look in your eyes, which said so plainly, 'Who on earth can she be?' Can you pardon my selfish enjoyment of your perplexity?"
"A perplexity that ends so pleasantly deserves thanks rather than pardon," returned Bergan.
And having answered Mrs. Lyte's cordial greeting, and congratulated her upon the event which had brought such unaccustomed radiance into her face, Bergan turned, with a pardonable curiosity—or it might more fitly be termed, an inevitable interest,—to glance around the room in which he found himself. Never before had he happened to enter that middle ground between the airiest ideal and the earthliest real, which is occupied by a sculptor's studio.
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1
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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8
isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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consummate
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| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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deciduous
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| adj.非永久的；短暂的；脱落的；落叶的 | |
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evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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16
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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18
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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20
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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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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24
pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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aspiration
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| n.志向，志趣抱负；渴望；(语)送气音；吸出 | |
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creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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32
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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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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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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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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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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concord
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| n.和谐；协调 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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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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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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45
circumlocutory
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| a.委婉曲折的,迂回的 (n.circumlocution) | |
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46
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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49
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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50
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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51
sniffed
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| 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 | |
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52
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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53
fawning
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| adj.乞怜的，奉承的v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的现在分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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54
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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55
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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56
superseding
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| 取代，接替( supersede的现在分词 ) | |
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57
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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58
rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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59
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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60
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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61
mobility
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| n.可动性，变动性，情感不定 | |
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62
vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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63
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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64
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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65
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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66
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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67
picturesqueness
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68
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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symbolized
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| v.象征，作为…的象征( symbolize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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omens
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| n.前兆，预兆( omen的名词复数 ) | |
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poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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augurs
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| n.（古罗马的）占兆官( augur的名词复数 )；占卜师，预言者v.预示，预兆，预言( augur的第三人称单数 )；成为预兆；占卜 | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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conjectures
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| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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concurrent
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| adj.同时发生的，一致的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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sketched
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| v.草拟（sketch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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outstrip
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| v.超过，跑过 | |
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fluency
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| n.流畅，雄辩，善辩 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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100
glade
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| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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102
unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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103
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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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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