But this morning she seemed to be singing them to the empty air. There was nobody in the living room, nor in the “study-library,” as the housekeeper5 called the room [Pg 121]of books, nor even in the kitchen. That was oddest of all! For there, at least, should Angelique have been, frying, or stewing6, or broiling7, as the case might be. Yet the coffee stood simmering, at one corner of the hearth8 and a bowl of eggs waited ready for the omelet which Angelique could make to perfection.
“Why, how still it is! As if everybody had gone away and left the island alone.”
She ran to the door and called: “Adrian!”
No answer.
“Pierre! Angelique! Where is everybody?”
Then she saw Angelique coming down the slope and ran to meet her. With one hand the woman carried a brimming pail of milk and with the other dragged by his collar the reluctant form of Reynard, who appeared as guilty and subdued9 as if he had been born a slave not free. To make matters more difficult, Meroude was surreptitiously helping10 herself to a breakfast from the pail [Pg 122]and thereby11 ruining its contents for other uses.
“Oh! the plague of a life with such beasts! And him the worst o’ they all. The ver’ next time my Pierre goes cross-lake, that fox goes or I do! There’s no room on the island for the two of us. No. Indeed no. The harm comes of takin’ in folks and beasties and friendin’ them ’at don’t deserve it. What now, think you?”
Margot had run the faster, as soon as she descried12 poor Reynard’s abject13 state, and had taken him under her own protection, which immediately restored him to his natural pride and noble bearing.
“I think nothing evil of my pet, believe that! See the beauty now! That’s the difference between harsh words and loving ones. If you’d only treat the ‘beasties’ as well as you do me, Angelique dear, you’d have less cause for scolding. What I think now is—speckled rooster. Right?”
“Aye. Dead as dead; and the feathers [Pg 123]still stickin’ to the villain’s jaws14. What’s the life of such brutes15 to that o’ good fowls16? Pst! Meroude! Scat! Well, if it’s milk you will, milk you shall!” and, turning angrily about, Snowfoot’s mistress dashed the entire contents of her pail over the annoying cat.
Margot laughed till the tears came. “Why, Angelique! only the other day, in that quaint17 old ‘Book of Beauty’ uncle has, I read how a Queen of Naples, and some noted18 Parisian beauties, used baths of milk for their complexions19; but poor Meroude’s a hopeless case, I fear.”
Angelique’s countenance20 took on a grim expression. “Mistress Meroude’s got a day’s job to clean herself, the greedy. It’s not her nose’ll go in the pail another mornin’. No. No, indeed.”
“And it was so full. Yet that’s the same Snowfoot who was to give us no more, because of the broken glass. Angelique, where’s uncle?”
[Pg 124]
“How should I tell? Am I set to spy the master’s ins and outs?”
“Funny Angelique! You’re not set to do it, but you can usually tell them. And where’s Adrian? I’ve called and called, but nobody answers. I can’t guess where they all are. Even Pierre is out of sight, and he’s mostly to be found at the kitchen door when meal time comes.”
“There, there, child. You can ask more questions than old Angelique can answer. But the breakfast. That’s a good thought. So be. Whisk in and mix the batter21 cakes for the master’s eatin’. ’Tis he, foolish man, finds they have better savor22 from Margot’s fingers than mine. Simple one, with all his wisdom.”
“It’s love gives them savor, sweet Angelique! and the desire to see me a proper housewife. I wonder why he cares about that, since you are here to do such things.”
“Ah! The ‘I wonders!’ and the ‘Is its?’ of a maid! They set the head awhirl. The [Pg 125]batter cakes, my child. I see the master comin’ down the hill this minute.”
Margot paused long enough to caress23 Tom, the eagle, who met her on the path, then sped indoors, leaving Reynard to his own devices and Angelique’s not too tender mercies. But she put all her energy into the task assigned her and proudly placed a plate of her uncle’s favorite dainty before him when he took his seat at table. Till then she had not noticed its altered arrangement, and even her guardian24’s coveted25: “Well done, little housekeeper!” could not banish4 the sudden fear that assailed26 her.
“Why, what does it mean? Where is Adrian? Where Pierre? Why are only dishes for three?”
“Pst! my child! Hast been askin’ questions in the sleep? Sure, you have ever since your eyes flew open. Say your grace and eat your meat, and let the master rest.”
“Yes, darling. Angelique is wise. Eat [Pg 126]your breakfast as usual, and afterward27 I will tell you all—that you should know.”
“But, I cannot eat. It chokes me. It seems so awfully28 still and strange and empty. As I should think it might be, were somebody dead.”
Angelique’s scant29 patience was exhausted30. Not only was her loyal heart tried by her master’s troubles, but she had had added labor31 to accomplish. During all that summer two strong and, at least one, willing lads had been at hand to do the various chores pertaining32 to all country homes, however isolated33. That morning she had brought in her own supply of fire-wood, filled her buckets from the spring, attended the poultry34, fed the oxen, milked Snowfoot, wrestled35 over the iniquity36 of Reynard and grieved at the untimely death of the speckled rooster: “When he would have made such a lovely fricasee, yes. Indeed, ’twas a sinful waste!”
Though none of these tasks were new or arduous37 to her, she had not performed them [Pg 127]during the past weeks, save and except the care of her cow. That she had never entrusted38 to anybody, not even the master; and it was to spare him that she had done some of the things he meant to attend to later. Now she had reached her limit.
“Angelique wants her breakfast, child. She has been long astir. After that the deluge39!” quoted Mr. Dutton, with an attempt at lightness which did not agree with his real depression.
Margot made heroic efforts to act as usual but they ended in failure, and as soon as might be her guardian pushed back his chair and she promptly40 did the same.
“Now I can ask as many questions as I please, can’t I? First, where are they?”
“They have gone across the lake, southward, I suppose. Toward whatever place or town Adrian selects. He will not come back but Pierre will do so, after he has guided the other to some safe point beyond the woods. How soon I do not know, of course.”
[Pg 128]
“Gone! Without bidding me good-bye? Gone to stay? Oh! uncle, how could he? I know you didn’t like him but I did. He was——”
Margot dropped her face in her hands and sobbed41 bitterly. Then ashamed of her unaccustomed tears she ran out of the house and as far from it as she could. But even the blue herons could give her no amusement, though they stalked gravely up the river bank and posed beside her, where she lay prone42 and disconsolate43 in Harmony Hollow. Her squirrels saw and wondered, for she had no returning chatter44 for them, even when they chased one another over her prostrate45 person and playfully pulled at her long hair.
“He was the only friend I ever had that was not old and wise in sorrow. It was true he seemed to bring a shadow with him and while he was here I sometimes wished he would go, or had never come; yet now that he has—oh! it’s so awfully, awfully lonesome. Nobody to talk with about my dreams and [Pg 129]fancies, nobody to talk nonsense, nobody to teach me any more songs—nobody but just old folks and animals! And he went, he went without a word or a single good-bye!”
It was, indeed, Margot’s first grief; and the fact that her late comrade could leave her so coolly, without even mentioning his plan, hurt her very deeply. But, after awhile, resentment46 at Adrian’s seeming neglect almost banished her loneliness; and, sitting up, she stared at Xanthippé, poised47 on one leg before her, apparently48 asleep but really waiting for anything which might turn up in the shape of dainties.
“Oh! you sweet vixen! but you needn’t pose. There’s no artist here now to sketch49 you, and I don’t care, not very much, if there isn’t. After all my trying to do him good, praising and blaming and petting, if he was impolite enough to go as he did—— Well, no matter!”
While this indignation lasted she felt better, but as soon as she came once more in sight of [Pg 130]the clearing and of her uncle finishing one of Adrian’s uncompleted tasks, her loneliness returned with double force. It had almost the effect of bodily illness and she had no experience to guide her. With a fresh burst of tears she caught her guardian’s hand and hid her face on his shoulder.
“Oh! it’s so desolate50. So empty. Everything’s so changed. Even the Hollow is different and the squirrels seem like strangers. If he had to go, why did he ever, ever come!”
“Why, indeed!”
Mr. Dutton was surprised and frightened by the intensity51 of her grief. If she could sorrow in this way for a brief friendship, what untold52 misery53 might not life have in store for her? There must have been some serious blunder in his training if she were no better fitted than this to face trouble; and for the first time it occurred to him that he should not have kept her from all companions of her own age.
[Pg 131]
“Margot!”
The sternness of his tone made her look up and calm herself.
“Y-es, uncle.”
“This must stop. Adrian went by my invitation. Because I could no longer permit your association. Between his household and ours is a wrong beyond repair. He cannot help that he is his father’s son, but being such he is an impossible friend for your father’s daughter. I should have sent him away, at my very first suspicion of his identity, but—I want to be just. It has been the effort of my life to learn forgiveness. Until the last I would not allow myself even to believe who he was, but gave him the benefit of the chance that his name might be of another family. When I did know—there was no choice. He had to go.”
Margot watched his face, as he spoke54, with a curious feeling that this was not the loved and loving uncle she had always known but a stranger. There were wrinkles and scars she [Pg 132]had never noticed, a bitterness that made the voice an unfamiliar55 one, and a weariness in the droop56 of the figure leaning upon the hoe which suggested an aged57 and heart-broken man.
Why, only yesterday, it seemed, Hugh Dutton was the very type of a stalwart woodlander, with the grace of a finished and untiring scholar, making the man unique. Now—— If Adrian had done this thing, if his mere58 presence had so altered her beloved guardian, then let Adrian go! Her arms went around the man’s neck and her kisses showered upon his cheeks, his hands, even his bent59 white head.
“Uncle, uncle! Don’t look like that! Don’t. He’s gone and shall never come back. Everything’s gone, hasn’t it? Even that irreparable past, of which I’d never heard. Why, if I’d dreamed, do you suppose I’d even ever have spoken to him? No, indeed. Why you, the tip of your smallest finger, the smallest lock of your hair, is worth more than a thousand Adrians! I was sorry he’d treated me so rudely. But now I’m glad, glad, glad. [Pg 133]I wouldn’t listen to him now, not if he said good-bye forever and ever. I love you, uncle, best of all the world, and you love me. Let’s be just as we were before any strangers came. Come, let’s go out on the lake.”
He smiled at her extravagance and abruptness60. The times when they had gone canoeing together had been their merriest, happiest times. It seemed to her that it needed only some such outing to restore the former conditions of their life.
“Not to-day, dearest.”
“Why not? The potatoes won’t hurt and it’s so lovely.”
“There are other matters, more important than potatoes. I have put them off too long. Now—Margot, do you love me?”
“Why—uncle!”
“Because there is somebody whom you must love even more dearly. Your father.”
“My—father! My father? Of course; though he is dead.”
“No, Margot. He is still alive.”
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1
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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stewing
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| 炖 | |
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broiling
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| adj.酷热的，炽热的，似烧的v.（用火）烤（焙、炙等）( broil的现在分词 )；使卷入争吵；使混乱；被烤（或炙） | |
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8
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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10
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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descried
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| adj.被注意到的，被发现的，被看到的 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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14
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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17
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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complexions
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| 肤色( complexion的名词复数 )； 面色； 局面； 性质 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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batter
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| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
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savor
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| vt.品尝，欣赏；n.味道，风味；情趣，趣味 | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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32
pertaining
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| 与…有关系的，附属…的，为…固有的(to) | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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41
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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42
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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49
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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50
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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51
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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52
untold
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| adj.数不清的，无数的 | |
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53
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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54
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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55
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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56
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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57
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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58
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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59
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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abruptness
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| n. 突然，唐突 | |
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