THE examination-days at Madam Truxton's were over. The long-dreaded reviews had been passed with credit to both pupils and instructors1. The certificates of scholarship, and the "rewards of merit," had been given to the fortunate competitors; the long-coveted diplomas awarded to the expectant "finishing class," and that memorable2 term of school life was closed forever. The hour for the event had come. The grand old drawing-rooms above the assembly hall in the spacious3 building were filled to repletion--filled with the patrons and select guests that were honored with the fastidious Madam's courtesy. It was an elegant assembly, one characteristic of the Queen City in her days of unostentatious aristocracy, of gentle-bred men and women.
Conspicuous4 among the famed guests were the three-score cadets, themselves just ready to emerge from college walls and step forth5 with triumphant6 tread upon life's broad opening field.
The "finishing class" numbered more than a score of girls--all young, some gifted, many beautiful--whose homes were scattered7 far and wide through the country; young girls who, for many months, and even years, had lived and studied and loved together, with all the ardor8 and strength of youth. Now they were to be sundered9; sundered with no prospect10 of future reunion.
All felt this approaching separation with more or less sorrow, according to their varying natures; and some contemplated11 it with deep regret.
The greetings, congratulations, and presentations were over, and Madam Truxton, in all her stately elegance12, had at last relaxed her rigid13 vigilance, and the "finishing class" were free--free to wander for the first time, and that first the last too, among the spacious halls and corridors of the old school building, as young ladies. Free to receive the smiles and addresses of the long-forbidden cadets without fear of madam's portentous14 frown.
At length the sound of music rose upon the air. Knotted groups here and there bespoke15 the preparation for the dance. Sets were forming in drawing-rooms and halls, and impatient feet were moving to the measure of the prelude16.
"Miss Heartwell, may I claim your hand for the quadrille?" said George Marshall, bowing before Lizzie at the presentation of Madam Truxton herself.
"I thank you, I never dance, Mr. Marshall."
"Not dance! How's that?"
"Never learned, sir."
"That's stranger still. I supposed all of madam's young ladies danced."
"In general they do," replied Lizzie, "but from peculiar17 circumstances I am an exception to the general rule. If you desire a partner in the dance, allow ne to present you to my friend, Bertha Levy18. She dances like a fay."
"Not just now, thank you, Miss Heartwell; if it is not impertinent, I would like to know why you do not dance."
"Well, it's a simple story, quickly told; and if you will listen a moment I'll inform you, if you desire."
"With pleasure. Go on."
"Melrose, my native home, in the State of --, is a quiet little town, with little social life and less gayety. My mother, too, is a widow, who has lived in great seclusion19 ever since my father's death, which occurred when I was a little child. I have been her only companion in all these years of bereavement20 and sorrow, and it has never been her desire that I should indulge in any of the pleasures and gayeties that young people are fond of. From these causes my life has assumed a sombre tone that may seem, and indeed is, unnatural21 in the young. Yet, as I have known nothing else all my life, it is no trial for me to forego the pleasures that are so alluring22 to you, perhaps, Mr. Marshall."
George Marshall made no reply, and for a time seemed absorbed in contemplation. He had listened attentively23 to this simple, half-told history of her life. And as he marked the gentle expression of her spirituelle face, she became in his eyes a model of beauty. The allusion24 to the death of her father had recalled to his mind the time and manner of his own father's death--a time when the terrible plague of yellow fever had swept over the Queen City with devastating25 wing. Observing George Marshall's silent, absorbed manner, Lizzie continued:
"You think me very uninteresting, I dare say. Young ladies who do not dance are generally so considered. Allow me to present you to some of my friends who will--"
"I beg pardon, Miss Heartwell, for my inattention. I was thinking of the past--the past recalled by your own story. Excuse my abstraction, I pray."
"But the young ladies?" said Lizzie.
"I do not care to dance now, if you will allow me the pleasure of a promenade26," he replied.
"Certainly I will," replied Lizzie with a graceful27 bend of the shapely head; and clasping with her timid little hand the strong arm of the manly28 cadet, she passed with him from the lower drawing-room across the hall to the library.
"There's more room in the corridor than here," said Lizzie; "suppose we go there?"
"First let me ask a question, suggested by the musical instrument I see standing29 in the library. Do you sing? Do you sing with the harp30?"
"I do."
"Will you not sing for me?"
"I will, with pleasure, if you will make room in the library," she replied with unaffected simplicity31. The library was occupied by a number of matronly ladies and elderly gentlemen--all of the guests who were not participating in the dance. Lizzie bowed her head slightly, and passed to the harp, now silent in one corner. Without hesitation32 she seated herself before it, and the slender fingers grasped the strings33 of the instrument with a masterly touch, running through a soft, sweet prelude of tender chords. Her voice at last trilled forth in the charming strains of the old Scotch34 ballad35, "Down the burn, Davy, love."
Concluding this old favorite air, she sang again, with sweetness, the witching song, "I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows."
Then rising from the harp, she said, with sweet accent and sweeter smile, "Now that I have bewitched you with my music, Mr. Marshall, I am ready for the promenade on the corridor."
These words so lightly spoken by the girl, were but the utterance36 of a truth of which she had no suspicion. George Marshall was indeed bewitched, and bowing a silent assent37, he offered his arm to the enchantress, and soon Lizzie found herself among the dancers, who were seeking temporary relaxation38 from the exercise, scattered in groups here, there, and everywhere about the spacious building.
Out into the long balcony, where the silvery moonlight lay softly as dew upon the flowers, George Marshall led the way, with the young girl clinging timidly to the brave strong arm, that for months had known no tenderer touch than the cold, cruel steel of the musket39, the constant companion of the cadet in the military course just closing.
They passed in silence through the corridor, and at last stood at the eastern end that overlooked the sea, stretching her arms around the child of her bosom40, the devoted41 Queen City.
George Marshall, always taciturn, was now painfully silent. His brain, always quick and clear to comprehend a problem in Legendre, now seemed beclouded and sluggish42. At length, embarrassed by the oppressive silence, Lizzie endeavored to arouse her companion by remarking,
"Are you fond of the sea, Mr. Marshall?"
Still gazing eastward43 over the deep, he replied abstractedly:
"Do you mean, am I fond of sea-life? If so, I answer most emphatically, No. There's but one life in this world that attracts me"--and here his manner grew constrained44 as he continued--"but one, and that's the life of a soldier. I love military life and service, and when my course is finished--which time is near at hand--if I am successful, as I hope to be, I shall offer myself to my country, and await impatiently her refusal or acceptance of my humble45 services. But I beg your pardon, if my enthusiasm has led me away from your inquiry46. I only like to look upon the sea; its grandeur47 in a storm, and the peaceful repose48 that follows, excite my admiration49, but that's all. It's something too treacherous50 to love."
"You fear the water, then," asked Lizzie smiling.
"Look to-night, if you please," was the answer, "at the soft silver sheen that covers its beautiful blue bosom, and imagine, if you can, such peaceful water engulfing51 a hapless bark within its silent depths! Oh no; I only admire the sea as a part of God's wonderful creation. But, Miss Heartwell, there's something just visible in the hazy52 distance that I do love; it's old Defiance53. You see the lights of the old fort twinkling far off on the water? They stir within me the martial54 spirit, and seem to beckon55 me on to an unknown, but longed-for destiny. It may be fancy, yet there has been a peculiar feeling toward that old fort ever since I first became a cadet at the Citadel56. Why do you frown? Do you object to my enthusiasm?"
"By no means," replied Lizzie quickly; "but, strangely as it seems to fascinate you, it has always repelled57, and even terrified me. It's the only object of the beautiful harbor that has ever cast a shadow across the loveliness of the sea. I hate it; and I have often wished the sea would draw it silently into its hungry depths, and leave no trace of it behind."
George laughed.
"Your fancy amuses me," he said. "It would never do to obliterate58 old Defiance, for then the enemy, should they ever come, would find easy access to the Queen City, and ruin and destruction might follow."
"Well, I guess my wishes will be unavailing in the future, as they have been in the past; and as I leave the Queen City to-morrow, old Defiance will fade from my sight though not from my memory, for a long, long time. So for the present I wish it no ill."
"Indeed," replied George Marshall in surprise, "do you leave the Queen City to-morrow--so soon?"
"Yes, I go by steamer--by the Firefly, that leaves to-morrow for the port of --, in my native State, and from there to Melrose, where I live."
"At what hour does the steamer leave?" inquired the young man thoughtfully.
"At six P.M., uncle tells me."
"And you leave so soon--six P.M. to-morrow?" he asked. "Maybe I am selfish in monopolizing59 you so long, Miss Heartwell. I have two friends you must know before the evening closes--Edwin Calhoun and Emile Le Grande. Have you met them? The dancing has ceased again, and we'll look them up."
"Thank you."
"Before we leave this moonlit spot, however, Miss Heartwell, I beg that you make friends with old Defiance, for my sake, and recall that cruel wish concerning him," he said playfully, and with an arch smile.
Lizzie replied, "For your sake, I will, and for yours only;" and throwing a kiss across the silvery sea, she said, "Take that, old fort, as a peace-offering."
The winds sighed and the sea murmured as they turned to rejoin the revellers, and that sportive kiss was borne away on the wandering breeze.
The revelry must end. Madam's love-bound pupils must be separated. The adieus must be spoken, but there must be no tears; that were a weak and indecorous manifestation61 of feeling, in madam's estimation. Blandly62 bowing her stately head, and kindly63 congratulating each upon having "finished," and finished well, madam gracefully64 waved them out of her presence, into the future, with a gentle motion of her jewelled hand.
"I shall see you to morrow, Lizzie," whispered Leah Mordecai, as she passed from the seminary escorted by Emile Le Grande.
"Certainly, at any hour, and do not disappoint me. Remember it's the last day."
All were gone. The stars twinkled faintly in the sky. Every light in madam's great house was extinguished, and all sound of that evening's revel60 hushed forever.
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instructors
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| 指导者，教师( instructor的名词复数 ) | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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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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ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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sundered
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| v.隔开，分开( sunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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bespoke
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| adj.（产品）订做的；专做订货的v.预定( bespeak的过去式 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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levy
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| n.征收税或其他款项，征收额 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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bereavement
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| n.亲人丧亡，丧失亲人，丧亲之痛 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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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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harp
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| n.竖琴；天琴座 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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ballad
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| n.歌谣，民谣，流行爱情歌曲 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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engulfing
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| adj.吞噬的v.吞没，包住( engulf的现在分词 ) | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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beckon
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| v.(以点头或打手势)向...示意，召唤 | |
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citadel
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| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
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repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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obliterate
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| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
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monopolizing
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| v.垄断( monopolize的现在分词 )；独占；专卖；专营 | |
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revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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blandly
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| adv.温和地，殷勤地 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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