The room overlooked the square, and Esmeralda gazed down at the carriages, with their high-stepping horses and liveried servants, with interest.
She was at last in the heart of that London of which she had heard. She seemed to be in a dream.
She opened the door and went into the next room. Lady Wyndover was seated in a low chair beside the fire, with a dainty tea-service, of silver and Sèvres, before her, and she greeted Esmeralda with a smile, and motioned her to draw up a chair on the other side of the fire.
“You must be dying for your tea, my dear,” she said, taking in all the points of Esmeralda’s plain traveling-dress, and yet without even seeming to glance at her.
“What a great deal we must have to tell each other,” she continued, sweetly. “I really don’t know where to begin! By the way, Mr. Pinchook was obliged to hurry away, and asked me to say good-bye to you for him. He is a very nice old gentleman, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” said Esmeralda, with a faint smile. “He has been very kind to me, and I expect I have given him a great deal of trouble.”
“Oh, that I am sure you haven’t, my dear,” said Lady Wyndover. “He must have been only too delighted to chaperon a charming young girl.”
“He didn’t seem very delighted sometimes,” said Esmeralda in her downright fashion.
Lady Wyndover gracefully6 glided7 away from the subject.
“And did you have a pleasant journey?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, very,” said Esmeralda. “It was great fun on board the ship.”
“It must have been,” said Lady Wyndover, suavely8, and with a little twitch9 of the corners of her carmine10 lips, as she remembered Mr. Pinchook’s moaning. “And what do you think of London?—but how ridiculous of me! You’ve not seen it yet!”
“No; only just as we drove through from the docks,” said[55] Esmeralda. “It seems very big, and looks very dirty, until we came here. Are the trees always black, like those outside? And is it always as smoky as this, or has there been a big fire somewhere near?”
Lady Wyndover leaned back and laughed.
“How fresh you are!” she said. “You will be delightful—too delightful—I can see!”
“Why?” asked Esmeralda.
Lady Wyndover laughed again, but did not explain.
“I am sure we shall get on very well together,” she said. “They say I am one of the best-tempered women in London, and I really am not bad, and I am certain that you are perfectly11 sweet.”
“I don’t know,” said Esmeralda, looking rather doubtful.
“Won’t you have some bread and butter?” asked Lady Wyndover: “or perhaps you’d like some cake.”
“I’ll have some cake,” said Esmeralda, and she cut herself a huge slice—so huge that Lady Wyndover had hard work to repress a shudder12.
“I never thought to ask if you were hungry, dear,” she said. “We dine at eight. Will you have something more—more substantial?”
“No, thanks; this will do,” said Esmeralda, looking at the remainder of the cake. “I’m nearly always hungry. They used to laugh at me on board the ship, and the captain said that he was afraid he should have to put in somewhere and lay in a fresh stock of provisions.”
There was a touch of envy in Lady Wyndover’s eyes as she watched her.
“I hope you won’t lose your appetite in London. It’s a very trying place. And now tell me all about yourself. Of course, I know how you have been living in that place with the curious name, and how Mr. Pinchook found you. Tell me about your guardian13 and your friends; in fact, anything you can think of.”
Esmeralda munched14 her cake with her white, even teeth, and looked thoughtfully at the fire. Although she had left Three Star only so short a time ago, she had begun to understand why Varley Howard had advised her not to be too communicative about him and her past life; and, although she was ashamed neither of him nor it, she shrunk from speaking of him to this dainty lady, who would, no doubt, regard him unfavorably.
“There’s nothing to tell,” she said. “Three Star was just a diggers’ camp, and Varley—I mean, Mr. Howard”—for she[56] remembered that Mr. Pinchook had told her to speak of Varley as “Mr. Howard”—“took care of me. He was very good to me; as good to me as any father could be.” Her long lashes16 quivered. “And so were all the boys—I mean, the men in the camp. We call them boys. Some of them are quite old, you know.”
“I see,” said Lady Wyndover. “And had you no lady friend?”
“There was Mother Melinda there,” said Esmeralda, “and black-eyed Polly, and one or two others.”
Lady Wyndover again tried not to shudder.
“How strange it must seem to you!” she said.
“What?” asked Esmeralda.
“This sudden change in your circumstances, my dear; from a diggers’ camp to London; from poverty—I beg your pardon, dear. I suppose you were poor?”
“I suppose so,” said Esmeralda, na?vely. “Sometimes there was plenty of money, and sometimes there wasn’t; it just depended upon Varley’s luck.”
“Oh!” said Lady Wyndover, who, not having been informed of Mr. Howard’s profession, did not understand in the least.
“Yes,” said Esmeralda, “when he was in luck we had plenty of things—fruit and wine from Melbourne, and new clothes; when he wasn’t in luck—well, we didn’t.”
“And now you are very rich,” said Lady Wyndover, “and can have wine and fruit and new clothes as often as you like. I suppose you don’t really understand how rich you are?” she said, looking at Esmeralda curiously17.
Esmeralda shook her head indifferently, and cut herself another huge slice of cake.
Lady Wyndover leaned back, and laughed softly, with a kind of comic despair.
“Oh, you are ridiculously, wickedly rich,” she said. “I don’t know how to make you understand. Well, see here, dear, there’s scarcely anything that you couldn’t afford to buy.”
“Yes; so Mr. Pinchook told me,” said Esmeralda, coolly; so coolly, that Lady Wyndover stared at her speechlessly for a moment.
“Don’t you feel dying to spend some of this money?” she said.
Esmeralda laughed.
“I don’t know. I have spent some. I bought some clothes[57] at Melbourne. I had to, because I only brought one change with me, in front of the saddle.”
Lady Wyndover stared at her.
“Let us go and see them,” she said. “In front of the saddle? Do you mean to say that you carried all your clothes in a bundle? Oh! I shall never understand it! Let us go and see what you’ve bought.”
She led the way to the apartment set apart for Esmeralda, and Esmeralda, following her, entered a room almost as dainty as that which she’d left. In a dressing-room adjoining they found a maid gazing in a kind of despairing astonishment18 at a huge wooden box clamped with iron.
“This is your maid, dear,” said Lady Wyndover. “I didn’t know whether you would bring one, so I engaged her. Barker, this is Miss Chetwynde.”
Esmeralda, with a smile, held out her hand. The carefully trained Barker crimsoned19 to the roots of her neatly20 arranged hair, and looked appealingly at Lady Wyndover, who shrugged21 her shoulders helplessly.
Barker pretended not to see the outstretched hand, and knelt at the box, as if looking for some means of opening it.
“Here’s the key,” said Esmeralda, who couldn’t understand why the girl refused to shake hands.
Barker opened the box, and proceeded to disentomb its contents.
Lady Wyndover glanced at them, found it impossible this time to repress a shudder, and faintly dismissed Barker, who fled down to the servants’ hall to recount her strange experiences with the new young lady.
Lady Wyndover touched with the tips of her fingers the dresses which Esmeralda had purchased.
“Very nice—very nice, indeed, dear,” she said, heroically. “But—but not quite suitable for London, or for a girl of your position.”
“No?” said Esmeralda, quite calmly. “I thought they were rather pretty. But you know, of course.”
“Yes, I think I know,” said Lady Wyndover. “And I think we’d better go down to Madame Cerise at once. We might go this afternoon; that is, if you are not tired. Perhaps you’d like to go and lie down for a little while.”
Esmeralda looked at her with open-eyed surprise.
“Tired? Why should I be tired? I haven’t done anything except ride in a cab, and I never lie down till I go to bed. Is it far, this place? How many miles?”
[58]
“Miles!” said Lady Wyndover, faintly. “It’s quite close, my dear child.”
“All right,” said Esmeralda, “I’m quite ready. But what shall we do with these things?”
“We—we might give them to Barker,” said Lady Wyndover, who knew full well that that remarkably22 well-dressed young woman would rather die than wear them.
“All right,” said Esmeralda, cheerfully. “She seems a very nice girl, though she’s rather proud, isn’t she? She wouldn’t shake hands with me just now.”
Lady Wyndover almost groaned23.
“It’s not usual—in England—to shake hands with one’s servants, dear,” she said. “But you’ll learn all that in time, and—other things. Go and put your things on, and we’ll go down to Madame Cerise’s.”
Esmeralda ran down-stairs, and Lady Wyndover, as she listened to her, sunk into a chair—collapsed perhaps would be the better word—for a few minutes, until she recovered from the series of shocks which Esmeralda had, all unconsciously, administered.
Esmeralda slipped on her hat and jacket, and then went into the boudoir and waited, for, what seemed to her, hours. At last Lady Wyndover appeared, in the latest of Redfern’s outdoor costumes, and Esmeralda, as she looked at her, began to understand why the dresses she had bought in Melbourne were unsatisfactory.
They went down-stairs, where a perfectly appointed brougham awaited them. A footman stood at the bottom of the stairs, a porter held the door open, another footman stood by the open door of the brougham, and touched his hat as the ladies appeared.
“I thought you said it wasn’t far?” said Esmeralda, as they went off.
“Nor is it,” said Lady Wyndover. “It is only in the next street—Mount Street.”
“Oh!” said Esmeralda, with puzzled surprise; “then why did we want this carriage and these two men?”
“I don’t know,” said Lady Wyndover, helplessly. “Would you rather have walked? I never walk anywhere, if I can help it.”
“Are you lame24? Is there anything the matter with you?” asked Esmeralda.
“No,” said Lady Wyndover, faintly.
The brougham pulled up at what looked like a private house, and they entered, and were shown into a room on the[59] ground floor. It would have looked like an ordinary sitting-room25, but for two or three dresses and costumes which lay about on the chairs and sofas.
Madame Cerise entered. It is scarcely necessary to say that she was an English woman—or, rather, an Irish woman. She was short and fat, with a round, good-natured face, and she and Lady Wyndover greeted each other almost as if they were friends.
She looked at Esmeralda with intent interest and admiration26, and when Lady Wyndover mentioned Esmeralda’s name, Madame Cerise’s interest grew quite vivid, for the story of Esmeralda’s fortune had already got into the society papers.
Lady Wyndover conferred with Madame Cerise for some time, in whispers, during which madame glanced at Esmeralda, and nodded intelligently.
“She is superb! She is magnificent!” she exclaimed in hushed staccato. “She will do your ladyship credit. Ah! what a sensation she will create! You leave it to me!”
She called an assistant, and they measured Esmeralda, and produced a variety of materials, the richness of which filled Esmeralda with amazement27.
“I shall never wear all these dresses,” she said.
Lady Wyndover and Madame Cerise smiled indulgently.
“Madame Cerise knows,” said Lady Wyndover. “We can trust ourselves to her.”
“You can trust yourself to me,” said Madame Cerise, with a mixture of French accent and Irish brogue. “I will see that Miss Chetwynde is properly dressed. She is magnificent, superb!” she again whispered to Lady Wyndover, as the two ladies took their departure.
“There is time for a turn in the park,” said Lady Wyndover; “that is, dear, if you are sure you’re not tired.”
Esmeralda only laughed. She thought of the long tramps, the longer rides, over the hills above Three Star, and the idea of being tired amused her.
Although the season was only just beginning, Lady Wyndover, as she leaned forward in her brougham, was recognized by numbers of her acquaintances; and as she bowed and smiled, Esmeralda said:
“You seem to know a great many people.”
“My dear, I know everybody,” said Lady Wyndover, plaintively28. “And so will you.”
“Shall I?” said Esmeralda.
“Yes; you don’t understand. You are now my ward15.[60] You are the rich Miss Chetwynde, and quite a personage. You are the great catch of this coming season.”
“Catch?” said Esmeralda. “I don’t understand.”
“You will soon, very soon,” said Lady Wyndover.
Esmeralda admired the park, and the promenaders, whom, in frock coats and tall hats, and well-confectioned dresses, they passed by. They made the circuit of the park, called at a fashionable milliner’s, of whom Lady Wyndover ordered a number of hats and bonnets29, which astounded30 Esmeralda, and then drove home.
“We shall dine alone to-night,” said Lady Wyndover. “So you need not dress.”
Now, Esmeralda was not altogether an idiot, as she chose from her despised wardrobe—which was to go to Barker, all excepting the habit, which, because of its associations, she intended to retain—what she considered her prettiest dress, and was proceeding31 to put it on, when Barker entered.
Esmeralda greeted her with a smile, but with some surprise, and when Barker took the dress out of her hand, and began to assist her to get into it, Esmeralda said:
“Don’t you trouble. I will put it on all right.”
“Oh! but, miss, I’ve got to help you,” said Barker.
“Help me?” said Esmeralda. “Why? I don’t want any help.”
Barker looked at her confusedly.
“Ladies always want to be helped by their maid, miss,” she said. “I don’t suppose you could hook it properly.”
“Oh, yes, I can,” said Esmeralda. “I always put on my own dresses at Three Star.”
“And do your hair, too, miss?” asked Barker, with wild astonishment.
“Of course,” said Esmeralda.
“You’d better let me help you, miss,” remarked Barker.
“Oh, very well,” said Esmeralda, contentedly32.
Barker brushed her hair, and coiled it into the fashionable coil, eying it with covert33 admiration.
“What lovely hair you’ve got, miss!” she said.
“Is it?” said Esmeralda, indifferently.
“Oh, yes,” said Barker; “and all your own, too.”
“Why, whose else should it be?” inquired Esmeralda, innocently.
Barker almost let her silver brush fall, and coughed.
“And it’s quite the right shade, too, miss; such a beautiful color.”
“Right shade?” said Esmeralda, puzzled.
[61]
“Yes, miss,” said Barker, passing the strands34 of golden copper35 over her hands. “It is all the fashion now; but you seldom see it with so much gold in it; none of the dyes can put the light on it you’ve got; and if you buy the hair, even if it’s real hair, of the very best quality, it hasn’t the sheen on it like this.” And she stroked the thick tresses lovingly and enviously36.
“I don’t think much of it,” said Esmeralda, indifferently. “Lady Wyndover’s is ever so much prettier.”
Barker coughed again.
“Yes, miss,” she said, dryly. “It’s a matter of taste.” She sighed as she looked at the dress, and Esmeralda took the opportunity to remark:
“I am having some new things made by a lady named Cerise—Lady Wyndover called her ‘madame,’ though I don’t know why—and I sha’n’t want these. You can have them, if you like. I think they’re pretty enough, but Lady Wyndover doesn’t.”
Barker accepted the complete wardrobe with, at any rate, a show of gratitude37, consoling herself with the reflection that the new Cerise dresses would also come to her in due course, and then put the finishing touches to Esmeralda’s toilet.
“The dresses are certainly not quite good enough for a lady like you, miss,” she said. “But, there, it wouldn’t matter what you wore!” she added.
“You mean that I’m so—so unfashionable and countrified?” said Esmeralda, innocently.
Barker looked at her. To that knowing young person such innocence38 and absence of self-consciousness seemed almost uncanny and quite incredible.
“Didn’t they have any looking-glasses where she came from, I wonder!” she said to herself.
Esmeralda went down-stairs, and a footman opened the door of the drawing-room for her. Lady Wyndover had not come down yet, and Esmeralda had time to look round the magnificent room. She had thought it impossible that anything could be more beautiful than the boudoir, but that dainty apartment paled into insignificance39 before the stately salon40, with its molded ceiling, brocaded hangings, and Chippendale furniture.
She was still standing41 in the center of the room, looking round her, when Lady Wyndover entered. She was in evening dress, though not in full war-paint, and Esmeralda gazed with grave wonder at the black lace frock, from which her[62] ladyship’s neck and arms issued like white marble. Lady Wyndover looked her ward up and down.
“You look very nice, dear,” she said; “though, of course, the dress is not quite right. But never mind; Cerise will send the things home very soon—I made a point of it—and then—well, then,” with a smile, “you will see.”
The solemn butler announced dinner, and Lady Wyndover, linking her arm in Esmeralda’s, led her into the dining-room.
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收听单词发音
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1
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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2
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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3
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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7
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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suavely
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9
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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10
carmine
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| n.深红色，洋红色 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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12
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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13
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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14
munched
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
ward
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| 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 | |
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16
lashes
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| 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 | |
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17
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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18
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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19
crimsoned
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| 变为深红色（crimson的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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20
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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21
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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23
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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24
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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25
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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26
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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27
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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28
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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29
bonnets
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| n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 )；（烟囱等的）覆盖物；（苏格兰男子的）无边呢帽；（女子戴的）任何一种帽子 | |
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30
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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31
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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32
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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33
covert
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| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
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34
strands
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| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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35
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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36
enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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37
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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38
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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39
insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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40
salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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41
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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