“I had such a funny dream last night,” she said. “I dreamed that I heard a voice calling me from away down in Uncle Stephen’s Walk—‘Sara, Sara, Sara,’ it kept calling. I didn’t know whose it was, and yet it seemed like a voice I knew. I wakened up while it was calling, and it seemed so real I could hardly believe it was a dream. It was bright moonlight, and I felt just like getting up and going out to the orchard2. But I knew that would be silly and of course I didn’t go. But I kept on wanting to and I couldn’t sleep any more. Wasn’t it queer?”
When Uncle Alec had gone I proposed a saunter to the farther end of the orchard, where I had left a book the preceding evening. A young mom was walking rosily3 on the hills as we passed down Uncle Stephen’s Walk, with Paddy trotting4 before us. High overhead was the spirit-like blue of paling skies; the east was a great arc of crystal, smitten5 through with auroral6 crimsonings; just above it was one milk-white star of morning, like a pearl on a silver sea. A light wind of dawn was weaving an orient spell.
“It’s lovely to be up as early as this, isn’t it?” said the Story Girl. “The world seems so different just at sunrise, doesn’t it? It makes me feel just like getting up to see the sun rise every morning of my life after this. But I know I won’t. I’ll likely sleep later than ever tomorrow morning. But I wish I could.”
“The Awkward Man and Miss Reade are going to have a lovely day for their wedding,” I said.
“Yes, and I’m so glad. Beautiful Alice deserves everything good. Why, Bev—why, Bev! Who is that in the hammock?”
I looked. The hammock was swung under the two end trees of the Walk. In it a man was lying, asleep, his head pillowed on his overcoat. He was sleeping easily, lightly, and wholesomely7. He had a pointed8 brown beard and thick wavy9 brown hair. His cheeks were a dusky red and the lashes10 of his closed eyes were as long and dark and silken as a girl’s. He wore a light gray suit, and on the slender white hand that hung down over the hammock’s edge was a spark of diamond fire.
It seemed to me that I knew his face, although assuredly I had never seen him before. While I groped among vague speculations11 the Story Girl gave a queer, choked little cry. The next moment she had sprung over the intervening space, dropped on her knees by the hammock, and flung her arms about the man’s neck.
The sleeper13 stirred and opened two large, exceedingly brilliant hazel eyes. For a moment he gazed rather blankly at the brown-curled young lady who was embracing him. Then a most delightful14 smile broke over his face; he sprang up and caught her to his heart.
“Sara—Sara—my little Sara! To think didn’t know you at first glance! But you are almost a woman. And when I saw you last you were just a little girl of eight. My own little Sara!”
“Father—father—sometimes I’ve wondered if you were ever coming back to me,” I heard the Story Girl say, as I turned and scuttled15 up the Walk, realizing that I was not wanted there just then and would be little missed. Various emotions and speculations possessed16 my mind in my retreat; but chiefly did I feel a sense of triumph in being the bearer of exciting news.
“Aunt Janet, Uncle Blair is here,” I announced breathlessly at the kitchen door.
Aunt Janet, who was kneading her bread, turned round and lifted floury hands. Felicity and Cecily, who were just entering the kitchen, rosy17 from slumber18, stopped still and stared at me.
“Uncle who?” exclaimed Aunt Janet.
“Uncle Blair—the Story Girl’s father, you know. He’s here.”
“WHERE?”
“Down in the orchard. He was asleep in the hammock. We found him there.”
“Dear me!” said Aunt Janet, sitting down helplessly. “If that isn’t like Blair! Of course he couldn’t come like anybody else. I wonder,” she added in a tone unheard by anyone else save myself, “I wonder if he has come to take the child away.”
My elation19 went out like a snuffed candle. I had never thought of this. If Uncle Blair took the Story Girl away would not life become rather savourless on the hill farm? I turned and followed Felicity and Cecily out in a very subdued20 mood.
Uncle Blair and the Story Girl were just coming out of the orchard. His arm was about her and hers was on his shoulder. Laughter and tears were contending in her eyes. Only once before—when Peter had come back from the Valley of the Shadow—had I seen the Story Girl cry. Emotion had to go very deep with her ere it touched the source of tears. I had always known that she loved her father passionately21, though she rarely talked of him, understanding that her uncles and aunts were not whole-heartedly his friends.
But Aunt Janet’s welcome was cordial enough, though a trifle flustered22. Whatever thrifty23, hard-working farmer folk might think of gay, Bohemian Blair Stanley in his absence, in his presence even they liked him, by the grace of some winsome24, lovable quality in the soul of him. He had “a way with him”—revealed even in the manner with which he caught staid Aunt Janet in his arms, swung her matronly form around as though she had been a slim schoolgirl, and kissed her rosy cheek.
“Sister o’ mine, are you never going to grow old?” he said. “Here you are at forty-five with the roses of sixteen—and not a gray hair, I’ll wager25.”
“Blair, Blair, it is you who are always young,” laughed Aunt Janet, not ill pleased. “Where in the world did you come from? And what is this I hear of your sleeping all night in the hammock?”
“I’ve been painting in the Lake District all summer, as you know,” answered Uncle Blair, “and one day I just got homesick to see my little girl. So I sailed for Montreal without further delay. I got here at eleven last night—the station-master’s son drove me down. Nice boy. The old house was in darkness and I thought it would be a shame to rouse you all out of bed after a hard day’s work. So I decided26 that I would spend the night in the orchard. It was moonlight, you know, and moonlight in an old orchard is one of the few things left over from the Golden Age.”
“It was very foolish of you,” said practical Aunt Janet. “These September nights are real chilly27. You might have caught your death of cold—or a bad dose of rheumatism28.”
“So I might. No doubt it was foolish of me,” agreed Uncle Blair gaily29. “It must have been the fault, of the moonlight. Moonlight, you know, Sister Janet, has an intoxicating30 quality. It is a fine, airy, silver wine, such as fairies may drink at their revels31, unharmed of it; but when a mere32 mortal sips33 of it, it mounts straightway to his brain, to the undoing34 of his daylight common sense. However, I have got neither cold nor rheumatism, as a sensible person would have done had he ever been lured35 into doing such a non-sensible thing; there is a special Providence36 for us foolish folk. I enjoyed my night in the orchard; for a time I was companioned by sweet old memories; and then I fell asleep listening to the murmurs37 of the wind in those old trees yonder. And I had a beautiful dream, Janet. I dreamed that the old orchard blossomed again, as it did that spring eighteen years ago. I dreamed that its sunshine was the sunshine of spring, not autumn. There was newness of life in my dream, Janet, and the sweetness of forgotten words.”
“Wasn’t it strange about MY dream?” whispered the Story Girl to me.
“Well, you’d better come in and have some breakfast,” said Aunt Janet. “These are my little girls—Felicity and Cecily.”
“I remember them as two most adorable tots,” said Uncle Blair, shaking hands. “They haven’t changed quite so much as my own baby-child. Why, she’s a woman, Janet—she’s a woman.”
“She’s child enough still,” said Aunt Janet hastily.
The Story Girl shook her long brown curls.
“I’m fifteen,” she said. “And you ought to see me in my long dress, father.”
“We must not be separated any longer, dear heart,” I heard Uncle Blair say tenderly. I hoped that he meant he would stay in Canada—not that he would take the Story Girl away.
Apart from this we had a gay day with Uncle Blair. He evidently liked our society better than that of the grown-ups, for he was a child himself at heart, gay, irresponsible, always acting38 on the impulse of the moment. We all found him a delightful companion. There was no school that day, as Mr. Perkins was absent, attending a meeting of the Teachers’ Convention, so we spent most of its golden hours in the orchard with Uncle Blair, listening to his fascinating accounts of foreign wanderings. He also drew all our pictures for us, and this was especially delightful, for the day of the camera was only just dawning and none of us had ever had even our photographs taken. Sara Ray’s pleasure was, as usual, quite spoiled by wondering what her mother would say of it, for Mrs. Ray had, so it appeared, some very peculiar39 prejudices against the taking or making of any kind of picture whatsoever40, owing to an exceedingly strict interpretation41 of the second commandment. Dan suggested that she need not tell her mother anything about it; but Sara shook her head.
“I’ll have to tell her. I’ve made it a rule to tell ma everything I do ever since the Judgment42 Day.”
“Besides,” added Cecily seriously, “the Family Guide says one ought to tell one’s mother everything.”
“It’s pretty hard sometimes, though,” sighed Sara. “Ma scolds so much when I do tell her things, that it sort of discourages me. But when I think of how dreadful I felt the time of the Judgment Day over deceiving her in some things it nerves me up. I’d do almost anything rather than feel like that the next time the Judgment Day comes.”
“Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell a story,” said Uncle Blair. “What do you mean by speaking of the Judgment Day in the past tense?”
The Story Girl told him the tale of that dreadful Sunday in the preceding summer and we all laughed with him at ourselves.
“All the same,” muttered Peter, “I don’t want to have another experience like that. I hope I’ll be dead the next time the Judgment Day comes.”
“But you’ll be raised up for it,” said Felix.
“Oh, that’ll be all right. I won’t mind that. I won’t know anything about it till it really happens. It’s the expecting it that’s the worst.”
“I don’t think you ought to talk of such things,” said Felicity.
When evening came we all went to Golden Milestone43. We knew the Awkward Man and his bride were expected home at sunset, and we meant to scatter44 flowers on the path by which she must enter her new home. It was the Story Girl’s idea, but I don’t think Aunt Janet would have let us go if Uncle Blair had not pleaded for us. He asked to be taken along, too, and we agreed, if he would stand out of sight when the newly married pair came home.
“You see, father, the Awkward Man won’t mind us, because we’re only children and he knows us well,” explained the Story Girl, “but if he sees you, a stranger, it might confuse him and we might spoil the homecoming, and that would be such a pity.”
So we went to Golden Milestone, laden46 with all the flowery spoil we could plunder47 from both gardens. It was a clear amber-tinted September evening and far away, over Markdale Harbour, a great round red moon was rising as we waited. Uncle Blair was hidden behind the wind-blown tassels48 of the pines at the gate, but he and the Story Girl kept waving their hands at each other and calling out gay, mirthful jests.
“Do you really feel acquainted with your father?” whispered Sara Ray wonderingly. “It’s long since you saw him.”
“If I hadn’t seen him for a hundred years it wouldn’t make any difference that way,” laughed the Story Girl.
“S-s-h-s-s-h—they’re coming,” whispered Felicity excitedly.
And then they came—Beautiful Alice blushing and lovely, in the prettiest of pretty blue dresses, and the Awkward Man, so fervently49 happy that he quite forgot to be awkward. He lifted her out of the buggy gallantly50 and led her forward to us, smiling. We retreated before them, scattering51 our flowers lavishly52 on the path, and Alice Dale walked to the very doorstep of her new home over a carpet of blossoms. On the step they both paused and turned towards us, and we shyly did the proper thing in the way of congratulations and good wishes.
“It was so sweet of you to do this,” said the smiling bride.
“It was lovely to be able to do it for you, dearest,” whispered the Story Girl, “and oh, Miss Reade—Mrs. Dale, I mean—we all hope you’ll be so, so happy for ever.”
“I am sure I shall,” said Alice Dale, turning to her husband. He looked down into her eyes—and we were quite forgotten by both of them. We saw it, and slipped away, while Jasper Dale drew his wife into their home and shut the world out.
We scampered53 joyously54 away through the moonlit dusk. Uncle Blair joined us at the gate and the Story Girl asked him what he thought of the bride.
“When she dies white violets will grow out of her dust,” he answered.
“Uncle Blair says even queerer things than the Story Girl,” Felicity whispered to me.
And so that beautiful day went away from us, slipping through our fingers as we tried to hold it. It hooded55 itself in shadows and fared forth56 on the road that is lighted by the white stars of evening. It had been a gift of Paradise. Its hours had all been fair and beloved. From dawn flush to fall of night there had been naught57 to mar45 it. It took with it its smiles and laughter. But it left the boon58 of memory.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
orchard
|
|
| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
rosily
|
|
| adv.带玫瑰色地，乐观地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
4
trotting
|
|
| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
smitten
|
|
| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
auroral
|
|
| adj.曙光的；玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
wholesomely
|
|
| 卫生地，有益健康地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
wavy
|
|
| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
lashes
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
speculations
|
|
| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
sleeper
|
|
| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
scuttled
|
|
| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
slumber
|
|
| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
elation
|
|
| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
subdued
|
|
| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
passionately
|
|
| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
flustered
|
|
| adj.慌张的；激动不安的v.使慌乱，使不安( fluster的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
thrifty
|
|
| adj.节俭的；兴旺的；健壮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
winsome
|
|
| n.迷人的，漂亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
wager
|
|
| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
rheumatism
|
|
| n.风湿病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
intoxicating
|
|
| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
revels
|
|
| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
sips
|
|
| n.小口喝，一小口的量( sip的名词复数 )v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
undoing
|
|
| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
lured
|
|
| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
murmurs
|
|
| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
whatsoever
|
|
| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
interpretation
|
|
| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
milestone
|
|
| n.里程碑；划时代的事件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
scatter
|
|
| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
mar
|
|
| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
plunder
|
|
| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
tassels
|
|
| n.穗( tassel的名词复数 )；流苏状物；（植物的）穗；玉蜀黍的穗状雄花v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的第三人称单数 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
fervently
|
|
| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
gallantly
|
|
| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
scattering
|
|
| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
lavishly
|
|
| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
scampered
|
|
| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
joyously
|
|
| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
hooded
|
|
| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
naught
|
|
| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
boon
|
|
| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |