The dress rehearsal, like most of its kind, was, for every one, nothing but a nightmare of discord6, discouragement, and disaster. Everybody's nerves were on edge, everybody was sure the thing would be a “flat failure.” The soprano sang off the key, the alto forgot to shriek7 “Beware, beware!” until it was so late there was nothing to beware of; the basso stepped on Billy's trailing frock and tore it; even the tenor8, Arkwright himself, seemed to have lost every bit of vim9 from his acting10. The chorus sang “Oh, be joyful11!” with dirge-like solemnity, and danced as if legs and feet were made of wood. The lovers, after the fashion of amateur actors from time immemorial, “made love like sticks.”
Billy, when the dismal12 thing had dragged its way through the final note, sat “down front,” crying softly in the semi-darkness while she was waiting for Alice Greggory to “run it through just once more” with a pair of tired-faced, fluffy-skirted fairies who could not learn that a duet meant a duet—not two solos, independently hurried or retarded13 as one's fancy for the moment dictated14.
To Billy, just then, life did not look to be even half worth the living. Her head ached, her throat was going-to-be-sore, her shoe hurt, and her dress—the trailing frock that had been under the basso's foot—could not possibly be decently repaired before to-morrow night, she was sure.
Bad as these things were, however, they were only the intimate, immediate15 woes16. Beyond and around them lay others many others. To be sure, Bertram and happiness were supposed to be somewhere in the dim and uncertain future; but between her and them lay all these other woes, chief of which was the unutterable tragedy of to-morrow night.
It was to be a failure, of course. Billy had calmly made up her mind to that, now. But then, she was used to failures, she told herself. Was she not plainly failing every day of her life to bring about even friendship between Alice Greggory and Arkwright? Did they not emphatically and systematically17 refuse to be “thrown together,” either naturally, or unnaturally18? And yet—whenever again could she expect such opportunities to further her Cause as had been hers the past few weeks, through the operetta and its rehearsals? Certainly, never again! It had been a failure like all the rest; like the operetta, in particular.
Billy did not mean that any one should know she was crying. She supposed that all the performers except herself and the two earth-bound fairies by the piano with Alice Greggory were gone. She knew that John with Peggy was probably waiting at the door outside, and she hoped that soon the fairies would decide to go home and go to bed, and let other people do the same. For her part, she did not see why they were struggling so hard, anyway. Why needn't they go ahead and sing their duet like two solos if they wanted to? As if a little thing like that could make a feather's weight of difference in the grand total of to-morrow night's wretchedness when the final curtain should have been rung down on their shame!
“Miss Neilson, you aren't—crying!” exclaimed a low voice; and Billy turned to find Arkwright standing19 by her side in the dim light.
“Oh, no—yes—well, maybe I was, a little,” stammered20 Billy, trying to speak very unconcernedly. “How warm it is in here! Do you think it's going to rain?—that is, outdoors, of course, I mean.”
Arkwright dropped into the seat behind Billy and leaned forward, his eyes striving to read the girl's half-averted21 face. If Billy had turned, she would have seen that Arkwright's own face showed white and a little drawn-looking in the feeble rays from the light by the piano. But Billy did not turn. She kept her eyes steadily22 averted; and she went on speaking—airy, inconsequential words.
“Dear me, if those girls would only pull together! But then, what's the difference? I supposed you had gone home long ago, Mr. Arkwright.”
“Miss Neilson, you are crying!” Arkwright's voice was low and vibrant23. “As if anything or anybody in the world could make you cry! Please—you have only to command me, and I will sally forth24 at once to slay25 the offender26.” His words were light, but his voice still shook with emotion.
Billy gave an hysterical27 little giggle28. Angrily she brushed the persistent29 tears from her eyes.
“All right, then; I'll dub30 you my Sir Knight,” she faltered31. “But I'll warn you—you'll have your hands full. You'll have to slay my headache, and my throat-ache, and my shoe that hurts, and the man who stepped on my dress, and—and everybody in the operetta, including myself.”
“Yes. Did you ever see such an awful, awful thing as that was to-night?” moaned the girl.
Arkwright's face relaxed.
“Oh, so that's what it is!” he laughed lightly. “Then it's only a bogy of fear that I've got to slay, after all; and I'll despatch34 that right now with a single blow. Dress rehearsals always go like that to-night. I've been in a dozen, and I never yet saw one go half decent. Don't you worry. The worse the rehearsal, the better the performance, every time!”
Billy blinked off the tears and essayed a smile as she retorted:
“Well, if that's so, then ours to-morrow night ought to be a—a—”
“A corker,” helped out Arkwright, promptly; “and it will be, too. You poor child, you're worn out; and no wonder! But don't worry another bit about the operetta. Now is there anything else I can do for you? Anything else I can slay?”
Billy laughed tremulously.
“N-no, thank you; not that you can—slay, I fancy,” she sighed. “That is—not that you will,” she amended35 wistfully, with a sudden remembrance of the Cause, for which he might do so much—if he only would.
Arkwright bent36 a little nearer. His breath stirred the loose, curling hair behind Billy's ear. His eyes had flashed into sudden fire.
“But you don't know what I'd do if I could,” he murmured unsteadily. “If you'd let me tell you—if you only knew the wish that has lain closest to my heart for—”
“Miss Neilson, please,” called the despairing voice of one of the earth-bound fairies; “Miss Neilson, you are there, aren't you?”
“Yes, I'm right here,” answered Billy, wearily. Arkwright answered, too, but not aloud—which was wise.
“Oh dear! you're tired, I know,” wailed37 the fairy, “but if you would please come and help us just a minute! Could you?”
“Why, yes, of course.” Billy rose to her feet, still wearily.
Arkwright touched her arm. She turned and saw his face. It was very white—so white that her eyes widened in surprised questioning.
As if answering the unspoken words, the man shook his head.
“I can't, now, of course,” he said. “But there is something I want to say—a story I want to tell you—after to-morrow, perhaps. May I?”
To Billy, the tremor38 of his voice, the suffering in his eyes, and the “story” he was begging to tell could have but one interpretation39: Alice Greggory. Her face, therefore, was a glory of tender sympathy as she reached out her hand in farewell.
“Of course you may,” she cried. “Come any time after to-morrow night, please,” she smiled encouragingly, as she turned toward the stage.
Behind her, Arkwright stumbled twice as he walked up the incline toward the outer door—stumbled, not because of the semi-darkness of the little theatre, but because of the blinding radiance of a girl's illumined face which he had, a moment before, read all unknowingly exactly wrong.
A little more than twenty-four hours later, Billy Neilson, in her own room, drew a long breath of relief. It was twelve o'clock on the night of the twentieth, and the operetta was over.
To Billy, life was eminently40 worth living to-night. Her head did not ache, her throat was not sore, her shoe did not hurt, her dress had been mended so successfully by Aunt Hannah, and with such comforting celerity, that long before night one would never have suspected the filmy thing had known the devastating41 tread of any man's foot. Better yet, the soprano had sung exactly to key, the alto had shrieked42 “Beware!” to thrilling purpose, Arkwright had shown all his old charm and vim, and the chorus had been prodigies43 of joyousness44 and marvels45 of lightness. Even the lovers had lost their stiffness, while the two earth-bound fairies of the night before had found so amiable46 a meeting point that their solos sounded, to the uninitiated, very like, indeed, a duet. The operetta was, in short, a glorious and gratifying success, both artistically47 and financially. Nor was this all that, to Billy, made life worth the living: Arkwright had begged permission that evening to come up the following afternoon to tell her his “story”; and Billy, who was so joyously48 confident that this story meant the final crowning of her Cause with victory, had given happy consent.
Bertram was to come up in the evening, and Billy was anticipating that, too, particularly: it had been so long since they had known a really free, comfortable evening together, with nothing to interrupt. Doubtless, too, after Arkwright's visit of the afternoon, she would be in a position to tell Bertram the story of the suspended romance between Arkwright and Miss Greggory, and perhaps something, also, of her own efforts to bring the couple together again. On the whole, life did, indeed, look decidedly worth the living as Billy, with a contented49 sigh, turned over to go to sleep.
点击收听单词发音
1 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 rehearsals | |
n.练习( rehearsal的名词复数 );排练;复述;重复 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 rehearsal | |
n.排练,排演;练习 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 spasms | |
n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 );抽搐;(能量、行为等的)突发;发作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 discord | |
n.不和,意见不合,争论,(音乐)不和谐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 shriek | |
v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 tenor | |
n.男高音(歌手),次中音(乐器),要旨,大意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 vim | |
n.精力,活力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 joyful | |
adj.欢乐的,令人欢欣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 retarded | |
a.智力迟钝的,智力发育迟缓的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 dictated | |
v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 );口授;支配;摆布 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 woes | |
困境( woe的名词复数 ); 悲伤; 我好苦哇; 某人就要倒霉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 systematically | |
adv.有系统地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 unnaturally | |
adv.违反习俗地;不自然地;勉强地;不近人情地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 stammered | |
v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 averted | |
防止,避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 ); 转移 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 vibrant | |
adj.震颤的,响亮的,充满活力的,精力充沛的,(色彩)鲜明的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 slay | |
v.杀死,宰杀,杀戮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 offender | |
n.冒犯者,违反者,犯罪者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 hysterical | |
adj.情绪异常激动的,歇斯底里般的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 giggle | |
n.痴笑,咯咯地笑;v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 persistent | |
adj.坚持不懈的,执意的;持续的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 dub | |
vt.(以某种称号)授予,给...起绰号,复制 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 faltered | |
(嗓音)颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 ); 支吾其词; 蹒跚; 摇晃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 wholesale | |
n.批发;adv.以批发方式;vt.批发,成批出售 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 slaughter | |
n.屠杀,屠宰;vt.屠杀,宰杀 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 despatch | |
n./v.(dispatch)派遣;发送;n.急件;新闻报道 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 Amended | |
adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 wailed | |
v.哭叫,哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 tremor | |
n.震动,颤动,战栗,兴奋,地震 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 interpretation | |
n.解释,说明,描述;艺术处理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 eminently | |
adv.突出地;显著地;不寻常地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 devastating | |
adj.毁灭性的,令人震惊的,强有力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 shrieked | |
v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 prodigies | |
n.奇才,天才(尤指神童)( prodigy的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 joyousness | |
快乐,使人喜悦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 marvels | |
n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 );令人惊奇的事物(或事例);不平凡的成果;成就v.惊奇,对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 amiable | |
adj.和蔼可亲的,友善的,亲切的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 artistically | |
adv.艺术性地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 joyously | |
ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |