The Guions had only recently come to Baltimore from the South. Their old home had been very near to Margaret’s, and she had consequently seen much more of Mrs. Guion, of late years, than of Alan. The children, of whom there were three, ranging from two to seven years of age, were cherished acquaintances of Margaret’s, and hailed her arrival with a hearty15 enthusiasm, that she responded to with much cordiality. Ethel, the eldest16, had been taught by her mother, long ago, to call Miss Trevennon “Auntie Margaret,” and Amy and Decourcy had, of course, adopted the title. They were charming children, rather delicate in health, and watched and guarded with such care by their anxious mother, that they had the air of frail17 exotics. Mr. Guion had died when Decourcy was a baby, and it was because Alan had decided18 to settle in Baltimore for the practise of his profession, the law, that Mrs. Guion had moved her little family there. She was enthusiastically attached to her only brother, and never wearied of discoursing19 upon his perfections and displaying the numberless useful and ornamental20 presents that he lavished21 upon her children and herself.
“Wasn’t it good of Alan to insist upon our coming to Baltimore, that he might make his home with us?” said Mrs. Guion, talking to her young cousin, the day after the latter’s arrival. “So many young men would have thought it a nuisance to be hampered22 by a woman and three children; but he insisted on our coming.”
“I can hardly see how he could regard you in the light of a nuisance,” said Margaret, smiling; “your chief object in life seems to be to humor his whims23 and caprices. He could certainly not secure such comfort as you administer to him, in any bachelor-quarters on earth.”
This view of the case had never occurred to Mrs. Guion, and she rejected it almost indignantly, and argued long to convince her cousin that she was, in all respects, the favored one; but without much success.
It was by a mere24 accident that Margaret discovered, a day or two after her arrival, that Alan’s sleeping-apartment, situated25 just above the front drawing-room, had been exchanged for one on the other side of the hall. In an instant it flashed upon her that her morning performance on the piano had been the cause of it. To be quite certain, however, she went to Mrs. Guion and asked her directly if it was not so.
“How did you find it out?” said Mrs. Guion; “you were not to know anything about it. The other room is quite as convenient for Alan. He says he likes it just as well, and he wouldn’t for the world have you know that he moved on that account. But, you know, he never could bear noise. Even the children understand that they must be quiet when he is here.”
“Is he an invalid, in any way?” asked Margaret.
“Oh, dear no! but he always had that objection to noise, and I think he is more set in his ways now than ever. I tell him he ought to marry.”
“If he values his personal ease so much, it might be a mistake to imperil it by matrimony,” said Margaret, with a touch of contempt in her voice not discernible to her unsuspecting cousin.
“Affluence and idleness have made him luxurious,” said Margaret to herself, reflectively, when Mrs. Guion had left her alone. “I suppose those two things are apt to go together. And yet Cousin Eugenia says Mr. Gaston has always been well off, and certainly the veriest pauper26 could not work harder! And still——”
The sentence ended in a little sigh. There was no denying the fact that Louis Gaston’s descent from the pedestal upon which she had mentally placed him, had been a great blow.
Miss Trevennon’s time passed very agreeably in Baltimore. Mrs. Guion, as yet, had only a small circle of friends, but most of these called upon her cousin, and several invitations resulted from these visits. As to Alan, the number of invitations he received was quite amusing. He had been twice to the club, and had delivered only one or two of his various letters, and made only one or two visits, when the cards of invitation began to pour in. He happened to have a few desirable acquaintances in Baltimore, his appearance was distinguished27, and he was known to be rich, and these three facts, taken together, sufficiently28 account for the degree of popularity of which he found himself possessed29.
One thing that rather surprised Margaret was the readiness with which her cousin would throw aside other engagements in order to drive her out, or take her to the theatre, or contribute, in any way, to her enjoyment30. He even stayed at home one whole rainy evening, when Mrs. Guion was engaged up-stairs with one of the children, who was unwell, in order, as he distinctly avowed31, to have a long talk with her.
When Miss Trevennon and Mr. Decourcy found themselves alone in the drawing-room, the latter threw himself, at full length, upon a low lounge, drawn32 up before the fire, and, fixing his eyes enjoyingly on Margaret, as she sat opposite, he drew a long breath of restful satisfaction, saying:
“Now this is real enjoyment. You don’t know it, perhaps, but it is just what I have longed for. Amy has really done this room charmingly, and has contrived33 to get precisely34 the atmosphere I like in it. The confusion of sweet and pungent35 odors from those plants yonder is just faint enough to be agreeable; and, far above all, my fair cousin, with her silken draperies and beautiful pose, puts a climax36 to my happiness. You have a talent for attitude, my Marguerite—do you know it? You always place yourself to advantage. I don’t know whether it is nature or art, but it is equally admirable, in either case.”
Margaret, who sat in a deep chair with her arms laid along its padded sides, and her hands lightly clasping the rounded ends, her long silk gown falling away to the left, while her figure was slightly turned toward her cousin at her right, fixed37 her eyes upon the points of her little slippers38, crossed before her, and remained profoundly still.
For a moment the young man looked at her in silence, and then he said:
“Why are you so quiet, dear Daisy?”
“I am unwilling39 to alter the pose that has won your approbation,” she said demurely40. “Don’t you think if I retained it long enough I might ‘be struck so,’ as the man in Patience says?”
“I should be inclined to discourage that idea,” said Alan, “as I was about to ask you to draw your seat a little nearer, and transfer your hands from the chair’s arms to my head. You know I always liked you to run your long fingers through and through my hair. Have you forgotten how you used to do it? I can assure you I have not.”
As Margaret made no answer, he went on:
“You were quite a child when you used first to do it—a tall little maid, even then, with such imperious ways! But you were always willing to do anything for your big boy cousin, and he has never forgotten you. All the time he was at college, and afterward41, when he went abroad and travelled about in many strange and distant places, he carried with him always the image of that little maid, and when, at last, he turned homeward, one of his pleasantest visions was that of meeting her again.”
Margaret had changed her position and turned more directly toward him; she was looking straight into his eyes, with her direct and candid42 gaze, which his own met rather dreamily. She did not speak in answer to these fond assurances of his, but as she listened she smiled.
“And are you glad to hear that I have always had this tendre for my sweet cousin, which I somehow can’t get over, even yet?”
“Oh yes,” said Margaret, gently, “very glad,” and she looked at him with a deep and searching gaze, which he could not quite understand.
“Come nearer, dear,” he said, “and take your old place at my head, and try to twist my short locks into curls, as you used to do. You will discover a secret known only to myself and the discreet43 fraternity of barbers. Come and see!” and he extended a white hand, somewhat languidly, to draw her toward him.
“I think not,” said Margaret, drawing herself upright, into an attitude of buoyant self-possession. “You and the barbers may keep your secret, for the present. I won’t intrude44.”
“Ah, but I want you. Come!” he said urgently, still holding out the delicate hand, on which a diamond sparkled.
But Margaret shook her head.
“Consider,” she said, with a little smile; “hadn’t I better stay where I am and pose for you, ‘talking platitudes45 in stained-glass attitudes,’ than put myself there, out of sight, encroaching upon the barbers’ privileges in more ways than one? As there is only one of me, I think you had better let me stay where I am. There ought to be five or six—one at your Sereneness’ head, and another at your feet. Two with jingling46 anklets and bangles, to dance in that space over yonder, and two just back of them, to discourse47 sweet music on their ’citherns and citoles’!”
Decourcy smiled at her banter48, but he fancied he discerned in her voice a faint ring of earnestness, tinctured with scorn, that disconcerted him.
“What is the use of six,” he said, “when I have the sweet ministrations of all, merged49 into one?—the little maid of long ago! Her comforting offices are an old experience, and, without having seen her dance, I’m willing to pit her against any pair of houris in the Orient; and as to music, I prefer the piano to citherns and citoles.”
“Especially in the early morning hours,” said Margaret, slyly, “when your Sereneness is enjoying your nap.”
“I guessed the truth and asked Amy, and she had to own it.”
“I don’t hear you in the least, where I am now. I hope you have not given up your practising on my account. I am afraid you have!”
“On the contrary,” answered Margaret, “my effort is to make more noise, and I constantly use the loud pedal. If my instrument had been as movable as your apartment, I should have followed you across the hall.”
“Why do you talk to me like this, Daisy?”
“Because I think you ought to come down in time for breakfast, and not give Amy the trouble of having things prepared afresh for you.”
“Amy likes it,” he said, smiling.
“It is very fortunate, if she does,” said Margaret; “but I fancy she would do it all the same, whether she liked it or not. Amy never thinks of herself.”
At this moment, Mrs. Guion entered, having at last soothed51 her little patient to sleep. Her first act was to bring a light screen and put it before her brother’s face, to shield it from the fire.
“Amy, why will you?” said Margaret. “You spoil Alan frightfully. He’s badly in need of discipline.”
“I wish you would take me in hand,” he said, looking at her from behind the screen with an eager expression, that disconcerted her.
Mrs. Guion’s entrance introduced new topics, and the tête-à-tête between the cousins was not renewed.
The next morning being rainy, Margaret betook herself, after breakfast, to the little up-stairs apartment which was the children’s general play-room, and as the three little creatures gathered around her, she drew Amy to her side and asked her to tell her what she thought of Baltimore on serious consideration.
“I don’t like it one bit, Auntie Mard’ret,” said Amy. “I think it’s a nasty, hateful, dirty place.”
“Why, Amy!” said Margaret, reproachfully, “I am shocked at your using such words. Where did a sweet little girl like you ever hear such bad words?”
“Oh, Auntie Mard’ret, I know a dreat deal worse words than that,” said Amy, with her eyes opened very wide. “Why, if I was to tell you the words I’m thinkin’ of, why you’d jump up and wun out of the woom.”
“Amy, I must insist upon your telling me,” said Margaret, feeling in duty bound to restrain her amusement, and administer the rebuke52. “What words do you mean?”
“Oh, Auntie Mard’ret,” said Amy, solemnly, “they’s jes’ is bad is they kin4 be—awful words! I couldn’t never tell you.”
Margaret insisted that she must be told, and after much reluctance53 on Amy’s part, and a demanded banishment54 of Ethel and Dee to the other end of the room, she put her arms around her cousin’s neck, and whispered in awe-struck, mysterious tones:
“I was thinkin’ of devil and beast.”
Margaret caught the little creature in her arms and kissed her repeatedly, in the midst of such a merry outburst of laughter as made reproof56 impossible.
Amy, who seemed greatly relieved to have rid her conscience of this burden, without any penance57 in consequence, ran off to play with the other children, and Margaret had just cut the leaves of a new magazine she had brought up with her and begun to look over the illustrations, when she became aware of a commotion58 among the children at the other end of the room and a confusion of excited voices. Presently little Decourcy came running toward her in much perturbation, and said, with a rising sob59:
“Auntie Mard’rit, is I a bullabulloo? Amy says I’se a bullabulloo. Now, is I?”
“No, Dee,” said Margaret, soothingly60, “you are no such thing. Tell Amy I say you are not.”
Dee ran back to the closet, on the floor of which Amy was seated dressing62 her doll, and Margaret heard him say, triumphantly63:
“Auntie Mard’rit says I’se not no bullabulloo.”
Amy, taking a pin out of her mouth to fasten the insufficient64 scrap65 of ribbon which she had been straining around her daughter’s clumsy waist, looked up into his face with great, serious eyes, and said mysteriously:
“Yes, Dee, you are a bullabulloo. Auntie Mard’rit don’t know it, and you don’t know it; but you are.”
This idea was so hopelessly dreadful that poor little Dee could control himself no longer. He dropped his apronful of blocks upon the floor, and burst into a howl of despair.
Margaret flew to the rescue, and, lifting him in her arms, carried him off to the window, muttering soothing61 denials of his remotest connection with bullabulloos. When he was in some slight measure comforted, Margaret called Amy to her and rebuked66 her sternly for teasing her little brother. What was her amazement67 to see Amy, as soon as she had finished, look up at her with the same serious gaze, and say, gravely:
“Auntie Mard’rit, he is a bullabulloo. You don’t know it, and Dee don’t know it; but he is.”
At this poor Dee began to howl again, refusing to be comforted, until it occurred to Margaret to suggest that if he was a bullabulloo Amy must be one, too, as she was his sister. This idea, once mastered, proved consoling, and Dee stopped crying. Margaret, to try to banish55 the remembrance of his trouble, turned him around to the window and called his attention to the children next door, who were running about the back yard in the rain and apparently68 enjoying it immensely. Ethel and Amy had joined them at the window, the latter standing69 on tip-toe to look.
“That’s Jack70 and Cora,” she said, still grasping her doll with one arm, while she held on to the window-ledge with the other. “Oh, Auntie Mard’rit, they’re such awful bad children. They don’t mind their mamma nor nuthin’. You jes’ ought to see how bad they are. I jes’ expeck they’ll all grow up to be Yankees.”
“What makes you think they’ll grow up to be Yankees, Amy?” she said. “Did anybody ever tell you so?”
“No, Auntie Mard’rit, but they’re so awful bad; and if they’re that bad when they’re little, I bet they will grow up to be Yankees.”
“How do you suppose they got hold of such an idea?” she said.
“I can’t imagine,” said Mrs. Guion, “I’m sure they never got it from me. Alan will insist that they did, as he considers me a most bigoted73 rebel. But certainly I have never taught any such sentiment as that to the children. They must simply have imbibed74 it with the air they have breathed.”
“It’s an excellent story,” said Margaret, laughing over it still; “I shall have no rest until I have told it to Mr. Gaston.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
stimulating
|
|
| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
ardor
|
|
| n.热情，狂热 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
instil
|
|
| v.逐渐灌输 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
kin
|
|
| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
attainable
|
|
| a.可达到的，可获得的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
proficiency
|
|
| n.精通，熟练，精练 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
labors
|
|
| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
accomplished
|
|
| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
allotted
|
|
| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
delicacies
|
|
| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
invalid
|
|
| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
pampered
|
|
| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
eldest
|
|
| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
discoursing
|
|
| 演说（discourse的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
ornamental
|
|
| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
lavished
|
|
| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
hampered
|
|
| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
WHIMS
|
|
| 虚妄，禅病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
situated
|
|
| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
pauper
|
|
| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
avowed
|
|
| adj.公开声明的，承认的v.公开声明，承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
contrived
|
|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
pungent
|
|
| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
climax
|
|
| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
slippers
|
|
| n. 拖鞋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
demurely
|
|
| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
candid
|
|
| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
discreet
|
|
| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
intrude
|
|
| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
platitudes
|
|
| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
jingling
|
|
| 叮当声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
banter
|
|
| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
merged
|
|
| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
soothed
|
|
| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
rebuke
|
|
| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
reluctance
|
|
| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
banishment
|
|
| n.放逐，驱逐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
banish
|
|
| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
reproof
|
|
| n.斥责，责备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
penance
|
|
| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
commotion
|
|
| n.骚动，动乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
sob
|
|
| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
soothingly
|
|
| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
soothing
|
|
| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
dressing
|
|
| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
triumphantly
|
|
| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
insufficient
|
|
| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
scrap
|
|
| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
rebuked
|
|
| 责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
amazement
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
jack
|
|
| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
peal
|
|
| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
zest
|
|
| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
bigoted
|
|
| adj.固执己见的，心胸狭窄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
imbibed
|
|
| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |