"You are so extreme in your statements, Octavia, dear," said Aunt Ellen, mildly, looking up from her paper. "If you find yourself temporarily in need of some small change for bonbons4, you will find my purse in the drawer of the writing desk."
Octavia Beaupree removed her hat and seated herself on a footstool near her aunt's chair, clasping her hands about her knees. Her slim and flexible figure, clad in a modish7 mourning costume, accommodated itself easily and gracefully8 to the trying position. Her bright and youthful face, with its pair of sparkling, life-enamoured eyes, tried to compose itself to the seriousness that the occasion seemed to demand.
"You good auntie, it isn't a case of bonbons; it is abject9, staring, unpicturesque poverty, with ready-made clothes, gasolined gloves, and probably one o'clock dinners all waiting with the traditional wolf at the door. I've just come from my lawyer, auntie, and, 'Please, ma'am, I ain't got nothink 't all. Flowers, lady? Buttonhole, gentleman? Pencils, sir, three for five, to help a poor widow?' Do I do it nicely, auntie, or, as a bread-winner accomplishment11, were my lessons in elocution entirely12 wasted?"
"Do be serious, my dear," said Aunt Ellen, letting her paper fall to the floor, "long enough to tell me what you mean. Colonel Beaupree's estate—"
"Colonel Beaupree's estate," interrupted Octavia, emphasizing her words with appropriate dramatic gestures, "is of Spanish castellar architecture. Colonel Beaupree's resources are—wind. Colonel Beaupree's stocks are—water. Colonel Beaupree's income is—all in. The statement lacks the legal technicalities to which I have been listening for an hour, but that is what it means when translated."
"Octavia!" Aunt Ellen was now visibly possessed13 by consternation14. "I can hardly believe it. And it was the impression that he was worth a million. And the De Peysters themselves introduced him!"
"De mortuis nil16, auntie—not even the rest of it. The dear old colonel—what a gold brick he was, after all! I paid for my bargain fairly—I'm all here, am I not?—items: eyes, fingers, toes, youth, old family, unquestionable position in society as called for in the contract—no wild-cat stock here." Octavia picked up the morning paper from the floor. "But I'm not going to 'squeal'—isn't that what they call it when you rail at Fortune because you've, lost the game?" She turned the pages of the paper calmly. "'Stock market'—no use for that. 'Society's doings'—that's done. Here is my page— the wish column. A Van Dresser could not be said to 'want' for anything, of course. 'Chamber-maids, cooks, canvassers, stenographers—'"
"Dear," said Aunt Ellen, with a little tremor17 in her voice, "please do not talk in that way. Even if your affairs are in so unfortunate a condition, there is my three thousand—"
Octavia sprang up lithely18, and deposited a smart kiss on the delicate cheek of the prim19 little elderly maid.
"Blessed auntie, your three thousand is just sufficient to insure your Hyson to be free from willow20 leaves and keep the Persian in sterilized21 cream. I know I'd be welcome, but I prefer to strike bottom like Beelzebub rather than hang around like the Peri listening to the music from the side entrance. I'm going to earn my own living. There's nothing else to do. I'm a—Oh, oh, oh!—I had forgotten. There's one thing saved from the wreck22. It's a corral—no, a ranch23 in—let me see—Texas: an asset, dear old Mr. Bannister called it. How pleased he was to show me something he could describe as unencumbered! I've a description of it among those stupid papers he made me bring away with me from his office. I'll try to find it."
Octavia found her shopping-bag, and drew from it a long envelope filled with typewritten documents.
"A ranch in Texas," sighed Aunt Ellen. "It sounds to me more like a liability than an asset. Those are the places where the centipedes are found, and cowboys, and fandangos."
"'The Rancho de las Sombras,'" read Octavia from a sheet of violently purple typewriting, "'is situated24 one hundred and ten miles southeast of San Antonio, and thirty-eight miles from its nearest railroad station, Nopal, on the I. and G. N. Ranch, consists of 7,680 acres of well-watered land, with title conferred by State patents, and twenty-two sections, or 14,080 acres, partly under yearly running lease and partly bought under State's twenty-year-purchase act. Eight thousand graded merino sheep, with the necessary equipment of horses, vehicles and general ranch paraphernalia25. Ranch-house built of brick, with six rooms comfortably furnished according to the requirements of the climate. All within a strong barbed-wire fence.
"'The present ranch manager seems to be competent and reliable, and is rapidly placing upon a paying basis a business that, in other hands, had been allowed to suffer from neglect and misconduct.
"'This property was secured by Colonel Beaupree in a deal with a Western irrigation syndicate, and the title to it seems to be perfect. With careful management and the natural increase of land values, it ought to be made the foundation for a comfortable fortune for its owner.'"
When Octavia ceased reading, Aunt Ellen uttered something as near a sniff26 as her breeding permitted.
"The prospectus," she said, with uncompromising metropolitan27 suspicion, "doesn't mention the centipedes, or the Indians. And you never did like mutton, Octavia. I don't see what advantage you can derive28 from this—desert."
But Octavia was in a trance. Her eyes were steadily29 regarding something quite beyond their focus. Her lips were parted, and her face was lighted by the kindling30 furor31 of the explorer, the ardent32, stirring disquiet33 of the adventurer. Suddenly she clasped her hands together exultantly34.
"The problem solves itself, auntie," she cried. "I'm going to that ranch. I'm going to live on it. I'm going to learn to like mutton, and even concede the good qualities of centipedes—at a respectful distance. It's just what I need. It's a new life that comes when my old one is just ending. It's a release, auntie; it isn't a narrowing. Think of the gallops36 over those leagues of prairies, with the wind tugging37 at the roots of your hair, the coming close to the earth and learning over again the stories of the growing grass and the little wild flowers without names! Glorious is what it will be. Shall I be a shepherdess with a Watteau hat, and a crook38 to keep the bad wolves from the lambs, or a typical Western ranch girl, with short hair, like the pictures of her in the Sunday papers? I think the latter. And they'll have my picture, too, with the wild-cats I've slain39, single-handed, hanging from my saddle horn. 'From the Four Hundred to the Flocks' is the way they'll headline it, and they'll print photographs of the old Van Dresser mansion40 and the church where I was married. They won't have my picture, but they'll get an artist to draw it. I'll be wild and woolly, and I'll grow my own wool."
"Octavia!" Aunt Ellen condensed into the one word all the protests she was unable to utter.
"Don't say a word, auntie. I'm going. I'll see the sky at night fit down on the world like a big butter-dish cover, and I'll make friends again with the stars that I haven't had a chat with since I was a wee child. I wish to go. I'm tired of all this. I'm glad I haven't any money. I could bless Colonel Beaupree for that ranch, and forgive him for all his bubbles. What if the life will be rough and lonely! I—I deserve it. I shut my heart to everything except that miserable41 ambition. I—oh, I wish to go away, and forget—forget!"
Octavia swerved42 suddenly to her knees, laid her flushed face in her aunt's lap, and shook with turbulent sobs43.
"I didn't know," she said, gently; "I didn't know—that. Who was it, dear?"
When Mrs. Octavia Beaupree, née Van Dresser, stepped from the train at Nopal, her manner lost, for the moment, some of that easy certitude which had always marked her movements. The town was of recent establishment, and seemed to have been hastily constructed of undressed lumber45 and flapping canvas. The element that had congregated46 about the station, though not offensively demonstrative, was clearly composed of citizens accustomed to and prepared for rude alarms.
Octavia stood on the platform, against the telegraph office, and attempted to choose by intuition from the swaggering, straggling string of loungers, the manager of the Rancho de las Sombras, who had been instructed by Mr. Bannister to meet her there. That tall, serious, looking, elderly man in the blue flannel47 shirt and white tie she thought must be he. But, no; he passed by, removing his gaze from the lady as hers rested on him, according to the Southern custom. The manager, she thought, with some impatience48 at being kept waiting, should have no difficulty in selecting her. Young women wearing the most recent thing in ash-coloured travelling suits were not so plentiful49 in Nopal!
Thus keeping a speculative50 watch on all persons of possible managerial aspect, Octavia, with a catching51 breath and a start of surprise, suddenly became aware of Teddy Westlake hurrying along the platform in the direction of the train—of Teddy Westlake or his sun-browned ghost in cheviot, boots and leather-girdled hat—Theodore Westlake, Jr., amateur polo (almost) champion, all-round butterfly and cumberer of the soil; but a broader, surer, more emphasized and determined52 Teddy than the one she had known a year ago when last she saw him.
He perceived Octavia at almost the same time, deflected53 his course, and steered54 for her in his old, straightforward56 way. Something like awe5 came upon her as the strangeness of his metamorphosis was brought into closer range; the rich, red-brown of his complexion57 brought out so vividly58 his straw-coloured mustache and steel-gray eyes. He seemed more grown-up, and, somehow, farther away. But, when he spoke59, the old, boyish Teddy came back again. They had been friends from childhood.
"Train," said Octavia; "necessity; ten minutes ago; home. Your complexion's gone, Teddy. Now, how—what—when—where?"
"I'm working down here," said Teddy. He cast side glances about the station as one does who tries to combine politeness with duty.
"You didn't notice on the train," he asked, "an old lady with gray curls and a poodle, who occupied two seats with her bundles and quarrelled with the conductor, did you?"
"I think not," answered Octavia, reflecting. "And you haven't, by any chance, noticed a big, gray-mustached man in a blue shirt and six-shooters, with little flakes61 of merino wool sticking in his hair, have you?"
"Lots of 'em," said Teddy, with symptoms of mental delirium62 under the strain. Do you happen to know any such individual?"
"No; the description is imaginary. Is your interest in the old lady whom you describe a personal one?"
"Never saw her in my life. She's painted entirely from fancy. She owns the little piece of property where I earn my bread and butter—the Rancho de las Sombras. I drove up to meet her according to arrangement with her lawyer."
Octavia leaned against the wall of the telegraph office. Was this possible? And didn't he know?
"Are you the manager of that ranch?" she asked weakly.
"I am," said Teddy, with pride.
"I am Mrs. Beaupree," said Octavia faintly; "but my hair never would curl, and I was polite to the conductor."
For a moment that strange, grown-up look came back, and removed Teddy miles away from her.
"I hope you'll excuse me," he said, rather awkwardly. "You see, I've been down here in the chaparral a year. I hadn't heard. Give me your checks, please, and I'll have your traps loaded into the wagon63. José will follow with them. We travel ahead in the buckboard."
Seated by Teddy in a feather-weight buckboard, behind a pair of wild, cream-coloured Spanish ponies64, Octavia abandoned all thought for the exhilaration of the present. They swept out of the little town and down the level road toward the south. Soon the road dwindled65 and disappeared, and they struck across a world carpeted with an endless reach of curly mesquite grass. The wheels made no sound. The tireless ponies bounded ahead at an unbroken gallop35. The temperate66 wind, made fragrant67 by thousands of acres of blue and yellow wild flowers, roared gloriously in their ears. The motion was aërial, ecstatic, with a thrilling sense of perpetuity in its effect. Octavia sat silent, possessed by a feeling of elemental, sensual bliss68. Teddy seemed to be wrestling with some internal problem.
"I'm going to call you madama," he announced as the result of his labours. "That is what the Mexicans will call you—they're nearly all Mexicans on the ranch, you know. That seems to me about the proper thing."
"Oh, now," said Teddy, in some consternation, "that's carrying the thing too far, isn't it?"
"Don't worry me with your beastly etiquette70. I'm just beginning to live. Don't remind me of anything artificial. If only this air could be bottled! This much alone is worth coming for. Oh, look I there goes a deer!"
"Jack-rabbit," said Teddy, without turning his head.
"Could I—might I drive?" suggested Octavia, panting, with rose-tinted cheeks and the eye of an eager child.
"On one condition. Could I—might I smoke?"
"Forever!" cried Octavia, taking the lines with solemn joy. "How shall I know which way to drive?"
"Keep her sou' by sou'east, and all sail set. You see that black speck71 on the horizon under that lowermost Gulf72 cloud? That's a group of live-oaks and a landmark73. Steer55 halfway74 between that and the little hill to the left. I'll recite you the whole code of driving rules for the Texas prairies: keep the reins75 from under the horses' feet, and swear at 'em frequent."
"I'm too happy to swear, Ted6. Oh, why do people buy yachts or travel in palace-cars, when a buckboard and a pair of plugs and a spring morning like this can satisfy all desire?"
"Now, I'll ask you," protested Teddy, who was futilely76 striking match after match on the dashboard, "not to call those denizens77 of the air plugs. They can kick out a hundred miles between daylight and dark." At last he succeeded in snatching a light for his cigar from the flame held in the hollow of his hands.
"Room!" said Octavia, intensely. "That's what produces the effect. I know now what I've wanted—scope—range—room!"
"Smoking-room," said Teddy, unsentimentally. "I love to smoke in a buckboard. The wind blows the smoke into you and out again. It saves exertion78."
The two fell so naturally into their old-time goodfellowship that it was only by degrees that a sense of the strangeness of the new relations between them came to be felt.
"Madama," said Teddy, wonderingly, "however did you get it into your bead79 to cut the crowd and come down here? Is it a fad80 now among the upper classes to trot81 off to sheep ranches82 instead of to Newport?"
"I was broke, Teddy," said Octavia, sweetly, with her interest centred upon steering83 safely between a Spanish dagger84 plant and a clump85 of chaparral; "I haven't a thing in the world but this ranch—not even any other home to go to."
"Come, now," said Teddy, anxiously but incredulously, "you don't mean it?"
"When my husband," said Octavia, with a shy slurring86 of the word, "died three months ago I thought I had a reasonable amount of the world's goods. His lawyer exploded that theory in a sixty-minute fully1 illustrated87 lecture. I took to the sheep as a last resort. Do you happen to know of any fashionable caprice among the gilded88 youth of Manhattan that induces them to abandon polo and club windows to become managers of sheep ranches?"
"It's easily explained in my case," responded Teddy, promptly89. "I had to go to work. I couldn't have earned my board in New York, so I chummed a while with old Sandford, one of the syndicate that owned the ranch before Colonel Beaupree bought it, and got a place down here. I wasn't manager at first. I jogged around on ponies and studied the business in detail, until I got all the points in my head. I saw where it was losing and what the remedies were, and then Sandford put me in charge. I get a hundred dollars a month, and I earn it."
"Poor Teddy!" said Octavia, with a smile.
"You needn't. I like it. I save half my wages, and I'm as hard as a water plug. It beats polo."
"Will it furnish bread and tea and jam for another outcast from civilization?"
"The spring shearing90," said the manager, "just cleaned up a deficit91 in last year's business. Wastefulness92 and inattention have been the rule heretofore. The autumn clip will leave a small profit over all expenses. Next year there will be jam."
When, about four o'clock in the afternoon, the ponies rounded a gentle, brush-covered hill, and then swooped93, like a double cream-coloured cyclone94, upon the Rancho de las Sombras, Octavia gave a little cry of delight. A lordly grove95 of magnificent live-oaks cast an area of grateful, cool shade, whence the ranch had drawn96 its name, "de las Sombras"—of the shadows. The house, of red brick, one story, ran low and long beneath the trees. Through its middle, dividing its six rooms in half, extended a broad, arched passageway, picturesque10 with flowering cactus97 and hanging red earthern jars. A "gallery," low and broad, encircled the building. Vines climbed about it, and the adjacent ground was, for a space, covered with transplanted grass and shrubs98. A little lake, long and narrow, glimmered99 in the sun at the rear. Further away stood the shacks100 of the Mexican workers, the corrals, wool sheds and shearing pens. To the right lay the low hills, splattered with dark patches of chaparral; to the left the unbounded green prairie blending against the blue heavens.
"It's a home, Teddy," said Octavia, breathlessly; that's what it is—it's a home."
"Not so bad for a sheep ranch," admitted Teddy, with excusable pride. "I've been tinkering on it at odd times."
A Mexican youth sprang from somewhere in the grass, and took charge of the creams. The mistress and the manager entered the house.
"Here's Mrs. MacIntyre," said Teddy, as a placid101, neat, elderly lady came out upon the gallery to meet them. "Mrs. Mac, here's the boss. Very likely she will be wanting a hunk of ham and a dish of beans after her drive."
Mrs. MacIntyre, the housekeeper102, as much a fixture103 on the place as the lake or the live-oaks, received the imputation104 of the ranch's resources of refreshment105 with mild indignation, and was about to give it utterance106 when Octavia spoke.
"Oh, Mrs. MacIntyre, don't apologize for Teddy. Yes, I call him Teddy. So does every one whom he hasn't duped into taking him seriously. You see, we used to cut paper dolls and play jackstraws together ages ago. No one minds what he says."
"No," said Teddy, "no one minds what he says, just so he doesn't do it again."
Octavia cast one of those subtle, sidelong glances toward him from beneath her lowered eyelids—a glance that Teddy used to describe as an upper-cut. But there was nothing in his ingenuous107, weather-tanned face to warrant a suspicion that he was making an allusion—nothing. Beyond a doubt, thought Octavia, he had forgotten.
"Mr. Westlake likes his fun," said Mrs. Maclntyre, as she conducted Octavia to her rooms. "But," she added, loyally, "people around here usually pay attention to what he says when he talks in earnest. I don't know what would have become of this place without him."
Two rooms at the east end of the house had been arranged for the occupancy of the ranch's mistress. When she entered them a slight dismay seized her at their bare appearance and the scantiness108 of their furniture; but she quickly reflected that the climate was a semi-tropical one, and was moved to appreciation109 of the well-conceived efforts to conform to it. The sashes had already been removed from the big windows, and white curtains waved in the Gulf breeze that streamed through the wide jalousies. The bare floor was amply strewn with cool rugs; the chairs were inviting110, deep, dreamy willows111; the walls were papered with a light, cheerful olive. One whole side of her sitting room was covered with books on smooth, unpainted pine shelves. She flew to these at once. Before her was a well-selected library. She caught glimpses of titles of volumes of fiction and travel not yet seasoned from the dampness of the press.
Presently, recollecting112 that she was now in a wilderness113 given over to mutton, centipedes and privations, the incongruity114 of these luxuries struck her, and, with intuitive feminine suspicion, she began turning to the fly-leaves of volume after volume. Upon each one was inscribed115 in fluent characters the name of Theodore Westlake, Jr.
Octavia, fatigued116 by her long journey, retired117 early that night. Lying upon her white, cool bed, she rested deliciously, but sleep coquetted long with her. She listened to faint noises whose strangeness kept her faculties118 on the alert—the fractious yelping119 of the coyotes, the ceaseless, low symphony of the wind, the distant booming of the frogs about the lake, the lamentation120 of a concertina in the Mexicans' quarters. There were many conflicting feelings in her heart—thankfulness and rebellion, peace and disquietude, loneliness and a sense of protecting care, happiness and an old, haunting pain.
She did what any other woman would have done—sought relief in a wholesome121 tide of unreasonable122 tears, and her last words, murmured to herself before slumber123, capitulating, came softly to woo her, were "He has forgotten."
The manager of the Rancho de las Sombras was no dilettante124. He was a "hustler." He was generally up, mounted, and away of mornings before the rest of the household were awake, making the rounds of the flocks and camps. This was the duty of the major-domo, a stately old Mexican with a princely air and manner, but Teddy seemed to have a great deal of confidence in his own eyesight. Except in the busy seasons, he nearly always returned to the ranch to breakfast at eight o'clock, with Octavia and Mrs. Maclntyre, at the little table set in the central hallway, bringing with him a tonic125 and breezy cheerfulness full of the health and flavour of the prairies.
A few days after Octavia's arrival he made her get out one of her riding skirts, and curtail126 it to a shortness demanded by the chaparral brakes.
With some misgivings127 she donned this and the pair of buckskin leggings he prescribed in addition, and, mounted upon a dancing pony128, rode with him to view her possessions. He showed her everything—the flocks of ewes, muttons and grazing lambs, the dipping vats129, the shearing pens, the uncouth130 merino rams131 in their little pasture, the water-tanks prepared against the summer drought—giving account of his stewardship132 with a boyish enthusiasm that never flagged.
Where was the old Teddy that she knew so well? This side of him was the same, and it was a side that pleased her; but this was all she ever saw of him now. Where was his sentimentality—those old, varying moods of impetuous love-making, of fanciful, quixotic devotion, of heart-breaking gloom, of alternating, absurd tenderness and haughty133 dignity? His nature had been a sensitive one, his temperament134 bordering closely on the artistic135. She knew that, besides being a follower136 of fashion and its fads137 and sports, he had cultivated tastes of a finer nature. He had written things, he had tampered138 with colours, he was something of a student in certain branches of art, and once she had been admitted to all his aspirations139 and thoughts. But now—and she could not avoid the conclusion—Teddy had
barricaded140 against her every side of himself except one—the side that showed the manager of the Rancho de las Sombras and a jolly chum who had forgiven and forgotten. Queerly enough the words of Mr. Bannister's description of her property came into her mind—"all inclosed within a strong barbed-wire fence."
"Teddy's fenced, too," said Octavia to herself.
It was not difficult for her to reason out the cause of his fortifications. It had originated one night at the Hammersmiths' ball. It occurred at a time soon after she had decided141 to accept Colonel Beaupree and his million, which was no more than her looks and the entrée she held to the inner circles were worth. Teddy had proposed with all his impetuosity and fire, and she looked him straight in the eyes, an said, coldly and finally: "Never let me hear any such silly nonsense from you again." "You won't," said Teddy, with an expression around his mouth, and—now Teddy was inclosed within a strong barbed-wire fence.
It was on this first ride of inspection142 that Teddy was seized by the inspiration that suggested the name of Mother Goose's heroine, and he at once bestowed143 it upon Octavia. The idea, supported by both a similarity of names and identity of occupations, seemed to strike him as a peculiarly happy one, and he never tired of using it. The Mexicans on the ranch also took up the name, adding another syllable144 to accommodate their lingual145 incapacity for the final "p," gravely referring to her as "La Madama Bo-Peepy." Eventually it spread, and "Madame Bo-Peep's ranch" was as often mentioned as the "Rancho de las Sombras."
Came the long, hot season from May to September, when work is scarce on the ranches. Octavia passed the days in a kind of lotus-eater's dream. Books, hammocks, correspondence with a few intimate friends, a renewed interest in her old water-colour box and easel—these disposed of the sultry hours of daylight. The evenings were always sure to bring enjoyment146. Best of all were the rapturous horseback rides with Teddy, when the moon gave light over the wind-swept leagues, chaperoned by the wheeling night-hawk and the startled owl147. Often the Mexicans would come up from their shacks with their guitars and sing the weirdest148 of heart-breaking songs. There were long, cosy149 chats on the breezy gallery, and an interminable warfare150 of wits between Teddy and Mrs. MacIntyre, whose abundant Scotch151 shrewdness often more than overmatched the lighter152 humour in which she was lacking.
And the nights came, one after another, and were filed away by weeks and months—nights soft and languorous153 and fragrant, that should have driven Strephon to Chloe over wires however barbed, that might have drawn Cupid himself to hunt, lasso in hand, among those amorous154 pastures—but Teddy kept his fences up.
One July night Madame Bo-Peep and her ranch manager were sitting on the east gallery. Teddy had been exhausting the science of prognostication as to the probabilities of a price of twenty-four cents for the autumn clip, and had then subsided155 into an anesthetic156 cloud of Havana smoke. Only as incompetent157 a judge as a woman would have failed to note long ago that at least a third of his salary must have gone up in the fumes158 of those imported Regalias.
"Teddy," said Octavia, suddenly, and rather sharply, "what are you working down here on a ranch for?"
"I've a good mind to discharge you."
"Can't do it," said Teddy, with a grin.
"Why not?" demanded Octavia, with argumentative heat.
"Under contract. Terms of sale respect all unexpired contracts. Mine runs until 12 P. M., December thirty-first. You might get up at midnight on that date and fire me. If you try it sooner I'll be in a position to bring legal proceedings160."
"But," continued Teddy cheerfully, "I've been thinking of resigning anyway."
Octavia's rocking-chair ceased its motion. There were centipedes in this country, she felt sure; and Indians, and vast, lonely, desolate162, empty wastes; all within strong barbed-wire fence. There was a Van Dresser pride, but there was also a Van Dresser heart. She must know for certain whether or not he had forgotten.
"Ah, well, Teddy," she said, with a fine assumption of polite interest, "it's lonely down here; you're longing163 to get back to the old life—to polo and lobsters164 and theatres and balls."
"Never cared much for balls," said Teddy virtuously165.
"You're getting old, Teddy. Your memory is failing. Nobody ever knew you to miss a dance, unless it occurred on the same night with another one which you attended. And you showed such shocking bad taste, too, in dancing too often with the same partner. Let me see, what was that Forbes girl's name—the one with wall eyes—Mabel, wasn't it?"
"No; Adéle. Mabel was the one with the bony elbows. That wasn't wall in Adéle's eyes. It was soul. We used to talk sonnets166 together, and Verlaine. Just then I was trying to run a pipe from the Pierian spring."
"You were on the floor with her," said Octavia, undeflected, "five times at the Hammersmiths'."
"Ball—ball," said Octavia, viciously. "What were we talking of?"
"Eyes, I thought," said Teddy, after some reflection; "and elbows."
"Those Hammersmiths," went on Octavia, in her sweetest society prattle168, after subduing169 an intense desire to yank a handful of sunburnt, sandy hair from the head lying back contentedly170 against the canvas of the steamer chair, "had too much money. Mines, wasn't it? It was something that paid something to the ton. You couldn't get a glass of plain water in their house. Everything at that ball was dreadfully overdone171."
"It was," said Teddy.
"Such a crowd there was!" Octavia continued, conscious that she was talking the rapid drivel of a school-girl describing her first dance. "The balconies were as warm as the rooms. I—lost—something at that ball." The last sentence was uttered in a tone calculated to remove the barbs172 from miles of wire.
"So did I," confessed Teddy, in a lower voice.
"A glove," said Octavia, falling back as the enemy approached her ditches.
"Caste," said Teddy, halting his firing line without loss. "I hobnobbed, half the evening with one of Hammersmith's miners, a fellow who kept his hands in his pockets, and talked like an archangel about reduction plants and drifts and levels and sluice-boxes."
"A pearl-gray glove, nearly new," sighed Octavia, mournfully.
"A bang-up chap, that McArdle," maintained Teddy approvingly. "A man who hated olives and elevators; a man who handled mountains as croquettes, and built tunnels in the air; a man who never uttered a word of silly nonsense in his life. Did you sign those lease-renewal applications yet, madama? They've got to be on file in the land office by the thirty-first."
Teddy turned his head lazily. Octavia's chair was vacant.
A certain centipede, crawling along the lines marked out by fate, expounded173 the situation. It was early one morning while Octavia and Mrs. Maclntyre were trimming the honeysuckle on the west gallery. Teddy had risen and departed hastily before daylight in response to word that a flock of ewes had been scattered174 from their bedding ground during the night by a thunder-storm.
The centipede, driven by destiny, showed himself on the floor of the gallery, and then, the screeches175 of the two women giving him his cue, he scuttled176 with all his yellow legs through the open door into the furthermost west room, which was Teddy's. Arming themselves with domestic utensils177 selected with regard to their length, Octavia and Mrs. Maclntyre, with much clutching of skirts and skirmishing for the position of rear guard in the attacking force, followed.
Once outside, the centipede seemed to have disappeared, and his prospective178 murderers began a thorough but cautious search for their victim.
Even in the midst of such a dangerous and absorbing adventure Octavia was conscious of an awed179 curiosity on finding herself in Teddy's sanctum. In that room he sat alone, silently communing with those secret thoughts that he now shared with no one, dreamed there whatever dreams he now called on no one to interpret.
It was the room of a Spartan180 or a soldier. In one corner stood a wide, canvas-covered cot; in another, a small bookcase; in another, a grim stand of Winchesters and shotguns. An immense table, strewn with letters, papers and documents and surmounted181 by a set of pigeon-holes, occupied one side.
The centipede showed genius in concealing182 himself in such bare quarters. Mrs. Maclntyre was poking183 a broom-handle behind the bookcase. Octavia approached Teddy's cot. The room was just as the manager had left it in his hurry. The Mexican maid had not yet given it her attention. There was his big pillow with the imprint184 of his head still in the centre. She thought the horrid185 beast might have climbed the cot and hidden itself to bite Teddy. Centipedes were thus cruel and vindictive186 toward managers.
She cautiously overturned the pillow, and then parted her lips to give the signal for reinforcements at sight of a long, slender, dark object lying there. But, repressing it in time, she caught up a glove, a pearl-gray glove, flattened—it might be conceived—by many, many months of nightly pressure beneath the pillow of the man who had forgotten the Hammersmiths' ball. Teddy must have left so hurriedly that morning that he had, for once, forgotten to transfer it to its resting-place by day. Even managers, who are notoriously wily and cunning, are sometimes caught up with.
Octavia slid the gray glove into the bosom187 of her summery morning gown. It was hers. Men who put themselves within a strong barbed-wire fence, and remember Hammersmith balls only by the talk of miners about sluice-boxes, should not be allowed to possess such articles.
After all, what a paradise this prairie country was! How it blossomed like the rose when you found things that were thought to be lost! How delicious was that morning breeze coming in the windows, fresh and sweet with the breath of the yellow ratama blooms! Might one not stand, for a minute, with shining, far-gazing eyes, and dream that mistakes might be corrected?
Why was Mrs. Maclntyre poking about so absurdly with a broom?
"I've found it," said Mrs. MacIntyre, banging the door. "Here it is."
"Did you lose something? asked Octavia, with sweetly polite non-interest.
"The little devil!" said Mrs. Maclntyre, driven to violence. "Ye've no forgotten him alretty?"
Between them they slew188 the centipede. Thus was he rewarded for his agency toward the recovery of things lost at the Hammersmiths' ball.
It seems that Teddy, in due course, remembered the glove, and when he returned to the house at sunset made a secret but exhaustive search for it. Not until evening, upon the moonlit eastern gallery, did he find it. It was upon the hand that he had thought lost to him forever, and so he was moved to repeat certain nonsense that he had been commanded never, never to utter again. Teddy's fences were down.
This time there was no ambition to stand in the way, and the wooing was as natural and successful as should be between ardent shepherd and gentle shepherdess.
The prairies changed to a garden. The Rancho de las Sombras became the Ranch of Light.
A few days later Octavia received a letter from Mr. Bannister, in reply to one she had written to him asking some questions about her business. A portion of the letter ran as follows:
"I am at a loss to account for your references to the sheep ranch. Two months after your departure to take up your residence upon it, it was discovered that Colonel Beaupree's title was worthless. A deed came to light showing that he disposed of the property before his death. The matter was reported to your manager, Mr. Westlake, who at once repurchased the property. It is entirely beyond my powers of conjecture189 to imagine how you have remained in ignorance of this fact. I beg that you that will at once confer with that gentleman, who will, at least, corroborate190 my statement."
Octavia sought Teddy, with battle in her eye.
"What are you working on this ranch for?" she asked once more.
"One hundred—" he began to repeat, but saw in her face that she knew. She held Mr. Bannister's letter in her hand. He knew that the game was up.
"It's my ranch," said Teddy, like a schoolboy detected in evil. "It's a mighty191 poor manager that isn't able to absorb the boss's business if you give him time."
"Why were you working down here?" pursued Octavia still struggling after the key to the riddle192 of Teddy.
"To tell the truth, 'Tave," said Teddy, with quiet candour, "it wasn't for the salary. That about kept me in cigars and sunburn lotions193. I was sent south by my doctor. 'Twas that right lung that was going to the bad on account of over-exercise and strain at polo and gymnastics. I needed climate and ozone194 and rest and things of that sort."
In an instant Octavia was close against the vicinity of the affected195 organ. Mr. Bannister's letter fluttered to the floor.
"It's—it's well now, isn't it, Teddy?"
"Sound as a mesquite chunk196. I deceived you in one thing. I paid fifty thousand for your ranch as soon as I found you had no title. I had just about that much income accumulated at my banker's while I've been herding197 sheep down here, so it was almost like picking the thing up on a bargain-counter for a penny. There's another little surplus of unearned increment198 piling up there, 'Tave. I've been thinking of a wedding trip in a yacht with white ribbons tied to the mast, through the Mediterranean199, and then up among the Hebrides and down Norway to the Zuyder Zee."
"And I was thinking," said Octavia, softly, "of a wedding gallop with my manager among the flocks of sheep and back to a wedding breakfast with Mrs. MacIntyre on the gallery, with, maybe, a sprig of orange blossom fastened to the red jar above the table."
Teddy laughed, and began to chant:
"Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep,
And doesn't know where to find 'em.
Let 'em alone, and they'll come home,
And—"
Octavia drew his head down, and whispered in his ear, But that is one of the tales they brought behind them.
《The Stories Of O.Henry欧亨利短篇小说集》
《The Stories Of O.Henry欧亨利短篇小说集》
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1
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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bonbons
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| n.小糖果( bonbon的名词复数 ) | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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modish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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nil
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| n.无，全无，零 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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lithely
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| adv.柔软地，易变地 | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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sterilized
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| v.消毒( sterilize的过去式和过去分词 )；使无菌；使失去生育能力；使绝育 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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paraphernalia
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| n.装备；随身用品 | |
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sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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30
kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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furor
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| n.狂热；大骚动 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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disquiet
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| n.担心，焦虑 | |
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exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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gallops
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| （马等）奔驰，骑马奔驰( gallop的名词复数 ) | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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swerved
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| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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46
congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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51
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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deflected
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| 偏离的 | |
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54
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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55
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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56
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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57
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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59
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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60
coherence
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| n.紧凑；连贯；一致性 | |
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61
flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
temperate
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| adj.温和的，温带的，自我克制的，不过分的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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68
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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72
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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landmark
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| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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75
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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76
futilely
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| futile（无用的）的变形； 干 | |
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denizens
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| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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bead
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| n.念珠；(pl.)珠子项链；水珠 | |
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fad
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| n.时尚；一时流行的狂热；一时的爱好 | |
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81
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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82
ranches
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| 大农场， （兼种果树，养鸡等的）大牧场( ranch的名词复数 ) | |
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83
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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84
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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85
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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86
slurring
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| 含糊地说出( slur的现在分词 )； 含糊地发…的声； 侮辱； 连唱 | |
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87
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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88
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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90
shearing
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| n.剪羊毛，剪取的羊毛v.剪羊毛( shear的现在分词 )；切断；剪切 | |
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91
deficit
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| n.亏空，亏损；赤字，逆差 | |
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wastefulness
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| 浪费，挥霍，耗费 | |
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swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
cyclone
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| n.旋风，龙卷风 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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96
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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97
cactus
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| n.仙人掌 | |
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98
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shacks
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| n.窝棚，简陋的小屋( shack的名词复数 ) | |
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101
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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102
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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103
fixture
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| n.固定设备；预定日期；比赛时间；定期存款 | |
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104
imputation
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| n.归罪，责难 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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106
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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107
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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108
scantiness
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| n.缺乏 | |
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109
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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110
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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111
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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112
recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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113
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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114
incongruity
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| n.不协调，不一致 | |
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115
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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116
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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117
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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118
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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119
yelping
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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120
lamentation
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| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
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121
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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122
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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123
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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124
dilettante
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| n.半瓶醋，业余爱好者 | |
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125
tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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126
curtail
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| vt.截短，缩短；削减 | |
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127
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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128
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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129
vats
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| varieties 变化，多样性，种类 | |
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130
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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131
rams
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| n.公羊( ram的名词复数 )；(R-)白羊（星）座；夯；攻城槌v.夯实（土等）( ram的第三人称单数 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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132
stewardship
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| n. n. 管理工作；管事人的职位及职责 | |
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133
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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134
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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135
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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136
follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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137
fads
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| n.一时的流行，一时的风尚( fad的名词复数 ) | |
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138
tampered
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| v.窜改( tamper的过去式 )；篡改；（用不正当手段）影响；瞎摆弄 | |
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139
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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140
barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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141
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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142
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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143
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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144
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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145
lingual
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| adj.语言的；舌的 | |
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146
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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147
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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148
weirdest
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| 怪诞的( weird的最高级 )； 神秘而可怕的； 超然的； 古怪的 | |
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149
cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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150
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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151
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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152
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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153
languorous
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| adj.怠惰的，没精打采的 | |
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154
amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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155
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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156
anesthetic
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| n.麻醉剂，麻药；adj.麻醉的，失去知觉的 | |
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157
incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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158
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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159
glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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160
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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161
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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162
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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163
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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164
lobsters
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| 龙虾( lobster的名词复数 )； 龙虾肉 | |
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165
virtuously
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| 合乎道德地，善良地 | |
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166
sonnets
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| n.十四行诗( sonnet的名词复数 ) | |
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167
vacuously
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| adv.无意义地，茫然若失地，无所事事地 | |
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168
prattle
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| n.闲谈；v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话；发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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169
subduing
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| 征服( subdue的现在分词 )； 克制； 制服； 色变暗 | |
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170
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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171
overdone
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| v.做得过分( overdo的过去分词 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
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172
barbs
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| n.（箭头、鱼钩等的）倒钩( barb的名词复数 )；带刺的话；毕露的锋芒；钩状毛 | |
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173
expounded
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| 论述，详细讲解( expound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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174
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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175
screeches
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| n.尖锐的声音( screech的名词复数 )v.发出尖叫声( screech的第三人称单数 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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176
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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177
utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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178
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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179
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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180
spartan
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| adj.简朴的，刻苦的；n.斯巴达；斯巴达式的人 | |
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181
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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182
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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183
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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184
imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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185
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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186
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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187
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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188
slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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189
conjecture
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| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
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190
corroborate
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| v.支持，证实，确定 | |
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191
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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192
riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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193
lotions
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| n.洗液，洗剂，护肤液( lotion的名词复数 ) | |
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194
ozone
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| n.臭氧，新鲜空气 | |
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195
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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196
chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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197
herding
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| 中畜群 | |
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198
increment
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| n.增值，增价；提薪，增加工资 | |
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199
Mediterranean
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| adj.地中海的；地中海沿岸的 | |
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