"Hello! Is that you, Gyp? I want Centre 2115, please. Is this Mr. Westley's house? Is that you, Gyp?.... This is Pat Everett. Listen----" came excitedly over the wire, though Gyp was listening as hard as she could. "Peg1 and I've found the black-and-white man!"
Gyp declared, afterwards, that the announcement had made her tingle2 to her toes! Immediately she corralled Jerry, whom she found translating Latin with a dictionary on her lap and a terrible frown on her brow, and together they hurried to Pat's house. It was a soft May evening--the air was filled with the throaty twitter of robins3, the trees arched feathery green against the twilight5 sky. Pat and Peggy sat bareheaded on the steps of the Everett house, waiting for them. A great fragrant6 flowering honeysuckle brushed their shoulders. A more perfect setting could not have been found for the finish of their conspiracy7.
Pat plunged8 straight into her story.
"Peg and I were coming back from Dalton's book store and we ran bang into the man--he'd taken his hat off 'cause it was so warm and was fanning himself with it. We both saw it at exactly the same moment and we just turned and clutched each other and almost yelled."
"And then, what? Why didn't you grab him?"
"As if we could lay our hands on a perfect stranger! Anyway, we've got to be tactful. But I'm sure it's the one--there was a white streak9 that ran right back from the front of his face. And he was very handsome, too--at least we decided10 he would be if we were as old as Miss Gray. I thought he was a little--oh, biggish."
"And to think how we've hunted for him and he was right here----" Then Gyp realized that Pat did not have the gentleman in her pocket.
"But how will we find him again?"
"We followed him--and he went into the Morse Building and got into the elevator and we were going right in after him when who pops out but Dr. Caton, and he looked so surprised to see us that we hesitated, and the old elevator boy shut the door in our faces. But we asked a man who was standing11 there in a uniform, like a head janitor12 or something, if that gentleman in a black coat and hat and lavender tie had an office in the building, and he said, "Yes, seventh floor, 796." He leered at us, but we looked real dignified13, and Peg wrote it down on a piece of paper and we walked away. So now all we've got to do is to just go and see him," and Pat hugged her slim knees in an ecstasy14 of satisfaction.
The girls stared meditatively15 at a fat robin4 pecking into the grass in search of a late dinner. To "just go and see him" was not as simple to the conspirators16 as it sounded, slipping from Pat's lips.
"Who'll go?" Gyp put the question that was in each mind.
"Perhaps it would be too many if all four of us went--so let's draw lots which two----"
"Oh, no!" cried Jerry, aghast.
The others laughed. "It'd be fairest to leave Jerry out of the draw."
"I'll go," cried Gyp grandly, "if Pat or Peggy will go with me and do the talking."
"What'll we say?" Now that the Ravens17 faced the fulfillment of their plans they felt a little nervous.
"I know----" Gyp's puzzled frown cleared magically. "Mother has five tickets for the Philadelphia Symphony to-morrow night--I'll ask her to let us go and invite Miss Gray to chaperone us. Then we'll write a note and tell this man that if he'll go to the concert and look at the third box on the left side he'll see the lady of his heart who has been faithful to him for years in spite of her many other suitors--we'll put that in to make him appreciate what he's getting. It'll be much easier writing it than saying it."
"Gyp--you're a wonder," cried the others, inspired to action. "Let's go in and write the note now."
The Ravens, who met now at Pat Everett's house, had neglected Miss Gray of late. Carnations18 had succeeded the violets, then a single rose. Pat had even experimented with a nosegay of everlastings19 which she had found in one of the department stores. It had been weeks since they had sent anything. For that reason a little feeling of remorse20 added enthusiasm now to their plotting.
Mrs. Westley was delighted at Gyp's desire to hear the concert and to include Miss Gray in the party. And Miss Gray's face had flushed with genuine pleasure when Gyp invited her.
"Everything's all ready," Gyp tapped across to Pat Everett, and Pat, nodding mysteriously, pulled from her pocket the corner of a pale blue envelope.
Directly after the close of school Gyp and Pat, with Jerry and Peggy Lee close at their heels, to bolster21 their courage, walked briskly downtown to the Morse Building. If any doubts as to the propriety22 of their action crept into any one of the four minds, they were quickly dispelled--for the sake of sentiment. It, of course, would not be pleasant, facing this stranger, but any momentary23 discomfort24 was as nothing, considering that their act might mean many years of happiness for poor, starved, little Miss Gray!
To avoid the leering elevator man the two girls climbed the six flights to the seventh floor. Pat carried the letter. Gyp agreed to go in first.
"746--748----" read Pat.
"It's the other corridor." They retraced25 their steps to the other side of the building. "784-788-792----" Gyp repeated the office numbers aloud. "7-9-6! Wilbur Stratman, Undertaker!"
"Pat Everett!" Gyp clutched her chum's arm. "A--undertaker! I won't go in--for all the Miss Grays in the world!"
Pat was seized with such a fit of giggling26 that she had difficulty in speaking, even in a whisper. "Isn't that funny? We've got to go in. The girls are waiting--we'd never hear the last of it! He can't bury us alive. Oh, d-dear----" She wadded her handkerchief to her lips and leaned against the wall.
"If Miss Gray wants an undertaker she can have him! For my part I should think she'd rather have a policeman or--or the iceman! Come on----" Gyp's face was comical in its disgust. She turned the knob of the door.
A thin, sad-faced woman told them that Mr. Stratman was in his office. She eyed them curiously27 as, with a jerk of her head, she motioned them through a little gate. As Gyp with trembling fingers opened the door of the inner office, a man with a noticeable white streak in his hair pulled his feet down from his desk, dropped a cigar on his pen tray and reached for a coat that lay across another chair.
"Is--is this Mr. Stratman?" asked Gyp, wishing her tongue would not cling to the roof of her mouth.
He nodded and waited. These young girls were not like his usual customers, probably they had some sort of a subscription28 blank with them. He watched warily29.
"Our errand is--is private," stumbled Gyp, who could see that Pat was beyond the power of speech. "It's--it's personal. We've come, in fact, of--our own accord--she doesn't know a thing about it----"
"She? Who?"
"Miss--Miss Gray." Gyp glanced wildly around. Oh, she was making a dreadful mess of it! Why didn't Pat produce the letter instead of standing there like a wooden image?
Being an undertaker, Mr. Wilbur Stratman met a great many women whom he never remembered. "H-m, Miss Gray--of course," he nodded. Encouraged, Gyp plunged on, with the one desire of getting the ordeal30 over with.
"She's dreadfully unhappy. She's been faithful to you all these years and she's lived in a little boarding house and worked and worked and wouldn't marry anyone else and----"
With an instinct of self-defense Mr. Stratman rose to his feet and edged ever so little toward the door. Plainly these two very young women were stark31 mad!
"I am very sorry for Miss Gray but--what can I do?"
"Oh, can't you marry her now? She's still very pretty----" Gyp was trembling but undaunted. The precipice32 was there--she had to make the leap!
The undertaker paused in his contemplated33 flight to stare--then he laughed, a loud, hoarse34 laugh that sent the hot blood tingling35 to Gyp's face.
"Who ever heard the beat of it! A proposal by proxy36! Ha! ha! My business is burying and not marrying! Ha! Ha! Pretty good! I don't know your Miss Gray. Even if I did I can't get away with a husky wife and six children at home!"
Pat pulled furiously at Gyp's sleeve. A chill that felt like a cold stream of water ran down Gyp's spine37.
"I don't get on to what you're after, Miss what-ever-your name is, but you're in the wrong pew. I never knew a Miss Gray that I can remember and I guess somebody's been kidding you."
Pat suddenly found her tongue--in the nick of time, too, for a paralysis38 of fright had finished poor Gyp.
"We must have made a mistake, Mr. Stratman. We are very sorry to have bothered you. We are in search of a certain--party that--that has--a white streak--in his hair."
"O-ho," the undertaker clapped his hand to his head. "So that's the ticket, hey? Well, I've always said I couldn't get away from much with that thing always there to identify me--but I never calculated it'd expose me to any proposals!" He laughed again--doubling up in what Pat thought a disgustingly ungraceful way. She held her head high and pushed Gyp toward the door. "We will say good-by," she concluded haughtily39.
"Say, kids, who are you, anyway?" His tone was quite unprofessional.
"It is not necessary to divulge40 our identity," and with Gyp's arm firmly in her grasp Pat beat a hasty retreat. Safe outside in the corridor they fell into one another's arms, torn between tears and laughter.
With mingled41 disgust and disappointment the Ravens decided then and there to let love follow its own blind, mistaken course.
"Miss Gray can die an old maid before I'll ever face another creature like that!" vowed42 Gyp, and Pat echoed her words.
"No one ever gets any thanks for meddling43 in other people's affairs, anyway," Peggy Lee offered.
"Nice time to tell us that," was Gyp's irritable44 retort.
That evening Miss Gray, charming in a soft lavender georgette dress, which her clever fingers had made and remade, wondered why her four young charges were so glum45. There was nothing in the world she loved so much as a symphony orchestra. She sat back in her chair, close to the edge of the box, with a happy sigh, and studied her program. Everything that she liked best, Chopin, Saint-Saens, and Wagner--Siegfried's Death. Gyp, eyeing her chaperon's happy anticipation46, indulged in a whispered regret.
"Doesn't she look pretty to-night? If that horrible creature only hadn't been----" The setting would have been so perfect for the denouement47. She sprawled48 back, resignedly, in her chair, smothering49 a yawn. A flutter of applause marked the coming in of the orchestra. There was the usual scraping of chairs and whining50 of strings51. Then suddenly Miss Gray leaned out over the box-rail, exclaiming incoherently, her hands clasping and unclasping in a wild, helpless way.
An opening crash of the cymbals52 covered her confusion. The four girls were staring at her, round-eyed. They had not believed Miss Gray capable of such agitation53! What ever had happened----
"An old friend," she whispered, her face alternately paling and flushing. "A very dear--old--friend! The--the third--violin----" She leaned weakly against the box-rail. The girls looked down at the orchestra. There--under the leader's arm--sat the third violinist--and a white streak ran from his forehead straight back through his coal black hair!
As though an electric shock flashed through them the four girls straightened and stiffened54. A glance, charged with meaning, passed from one to another. Gyp, remembering the moment of confidence between her and Miss Gray, slipped her hand into Miss Gray's and squeezed it encouragingly.
Not one of them heard a note of the wonderful music; each was steadying herself for that moment when the program should end. Their box was very near the little door that led behind the stage. Gyp almost pushed Miss Gray toward it.
"Of course you're going to see him! Hurry. You look so nice----" Gyp was so excited that she did not know quite what she was saying. "Oh--hurry! You may never see him again."
Then they, precipitously and on tiptoe, followed little Miss Gray. Though it did not happen as each in her romantic soul had planned, it was none the less satisfying! In a chilly55, bare anteroom off the stage, at a queer sound behind him resembling in a small way his name, the third violinist turned from the job of putting his violin into its box.
"Milly," he cried, his face flaming red with a pleased surprise.
"George----" Miss Gray held back, twisting her fingers in a helpless flutter. "I--I thought--when you sent--the--flowers--and the verses--that maybe, you--you still cared!"
Just for a moment a puzzled look clouded the man's face--then a vision in the doorway56 of four wildly-warning hands made him exclaim quickly:
"Care--didn't I tell you, Milly, that I'd never care for anyone else?"
"He took her right in his arms," four tongues explained at once, when, the next day, the self-appointed committee on romance reported back to the other Ravens. "Of course, he didn't know we were peeking57. He isn't exactly the type I'd go crazy over, but he's so much better than that undertaker! And going home Miss Gray told us all about it. It would make the grandest movie! She had to support her mother and he didn't earn enough to take care of them both, and she wouldn't let him wait all that time; she told him to find someone else. But you see he didn't. Isn't love funny? And then when her mother finally died she was too proud to send him word, and I guess she didn't know where he was, anyway, or maybe she thought he had gone and done what she told him to do and married some one else. And she believed all the time that he sent her those flowers--I s'pose by that say-it-with-flowers-by-telegraph-from-any-part-of-the-country method. Oh, I hope she'll wear a veil and let us be bridesmaids!"
But little Miss Gray did not; some weeks later, in a spick-and-span blue serge traveling suit, with a little bunch of pink roses fastened in her belt, she slipped away from her dreary58 boarding house and met her third violinist in the shabby, unromantic front parlor59 of an out-of-the-way parsonage; the parson's stout60 wife was her bridesmaid--so much for gratitude61!
收听单词发音 |
1
peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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tingle
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| vi.感到刺痛，感到激动；n.刺痛，激动 | |
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robins
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| n.知更鸟，鸫( robin的名词复数 )；（签名者不分先后，以避免受责的）圆形签名抗议书（或请愿书） | |
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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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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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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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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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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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janitor
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| n.看门人，管门人 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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conspirators
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| n.共谋者，阴谋家( conspirator的名词复数 ) | |
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ravens
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| n.低质煤；渡鸦( raven的名词复数 ) | |
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carnations
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| n.麝香石竹，康乃馨( carnation的名词复数 ) | |
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everlastings
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| 永久，无穷（everlasting的复数形式） | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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bolster
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| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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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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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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proxy
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| n.代理权，代表权；（对代理人的）委托书；代理人 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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paralysis
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| n.麻痹(症)；瘫痪(症) | |
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haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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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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42
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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meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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46
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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47
denouement
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| n.结尾，结局 | |
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sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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49
smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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50
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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51
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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cymbals
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| pl.铙钹 | |
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53
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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54
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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55
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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56
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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57
peeking
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| v.很快地看( peek的现在分词 )；偷看；窥视；微露出 | |
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58
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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61
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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