“I suppose we'd better go down to lunch,” Mrs. Adams said, absently. “She's at the gong again.” “In a minute, mama. Now about the sleeves——” And she went on with her planning. Unfortunately the gong was inexpressive of the mood of the person who beat upon it. It consisted of three little metal bowls upon a string; they were unequal in size, and, upon being tapped with a padded stick, gave forth5 vibrations6 almost musically pleasant. It was Alice who had substituted this contrivance for the brass7 “dinner-bell” in use throughout her childhood; and neither she nor the others of her family realized that the substitution of sweeter sounds had made the life of that household more difficult. In spite of dismaying increases in wages, the Adamses still strove to keep a cook; and, as they were unable to pay the higher rates demanded by a good one, what they usually had was a whimsical coloured woman of nomadic8 impulses. In the hands of such a person the old-fashioned “dinner-bell” was satisfying; life could instantly be made intolerable for any one dawdling9 on his way to a meal; the bell was capable of every desirable profanity and left nothing bottled up in the breast of the ringer. But the chamois-covered stick might whack10 upon Alice's little Chinese bowls for a considerable length of time and produce no great effect of urgency upon a hearer, nor any other effect, except fury in the cook. The ironical11 impossibility of expressing indignation otherwise than by sounds of gentle harmony proved exasperating12; the cook was apt to become surcharged, so that explosive resignations, never rare, were somewhat more frequent after the introduction of the gong.
Mrs. Adams took this increased frequency to be only another manifestation13 of the inexplicable14 new difficulties that beset15 all housekeeping. You paid a cook double what you had paid one a few years before; and the cook knew half as much of cookery, and had no gratitude16. The more you gave these people, it seemed, the worse they behaved—a condition not to be remedied by simply giving them less, because you couldn't even get the worst unless you paid her what she demanded. Nevertheless, Mrs. Adams remained fitfully an optimist17 in the matter. Brought up by her mother to speak of a female cook as “the girl,” she had been instructed by Alice to drop that definition in favour of one not an improvement in accuracy: “the maid.” Almost always, during the first day or so after every cook came, Mrs. Adams would say, at intervals18, with an air of triumph: “I believe—of course it's a little soon to be sure—but I do really believe this new maid is the treasure we've been looking for so long!” Much in the same way that Alice dreamed of a mysterious perfect mate for whom she “waited,” her mother had a fairy theory that hidden somewhere in the universe there was the treasure, the perfect “maid,” who would come and cook in the Adamses' kitchen, not four days or four weeks, but forever.
The present incumbent19 was not she. Alice, profoundly interested herself, kept her mother likewise so preoccupied20 with the dress that they were but vaguely21 conscious of the gong's soft warnings, though these were repeated and protracted22 unusually. Finally the sound of a hearty23 voice, independent and enraged24, reached the pair. It came from the hall below.
“I says goo'-BYE!” it called. “Da'ss all!”
Then the front door slammed.
“Why, what——” Mrs. Adams began.
They went down hurriedly to find out. Miss Perry informed them.
“I couldn't make her listen to reason,” she said. “She rang the gong four or five times and got to talking to herself; and then she went up to her room and packed her bag. I told her she had no business to go out the front door, anyhow.”
Mrs. Adams took the news philosophically25. “I thought she had something like that in her eye when I paid her this morning, and I'm not surprised. Well, we won't let Mr. Adams know anything's the matter till I get a new one.”
They lunched upon what the late incumbent had left chilling on the table, and then Mrs. Adams prepared to wash the dishes; she would “have them done in a jiffy,” she said, cheerfully. But it was Alice who washed the dishes.
“I DON'T like to have you do that, Alice,” her mother protested, following her into the kitchen. “It roughens the hands, and when a girl has hands like yours——”
“I know, mama.” Alice looked troubled, but shook her head. “It can't be helped this time; you'll need every minute to get that dress done.”
Mrs. Adams went away lamenting26, while Alice, no expert, began to splash the plates and cups and saucers in the warm water. After a while, as she worked, her eyes grew dreamy: she was making little gay-coloured pictures of herself, unfounded prophecies of how she would look and what would happen to her that evening. She saw herself, charming and demure27, wearing a fluffy28 idealization of the dress her mother now determinedly29 struggled with upstairs; she saw herself framed in a garlanded archway, the entrance to a ballroom30, and saw the people on the shining floor turning dramatically to look at her; then from all points a rush of young men shouting for dances with her; and she constructed a superb stranger, tall, dark, masterfully smiling, who swung her out of the clamouring group as the music began. She saw herself dancing with him, saw the half-troubled smile she would give him; and she accurately31 smiled that smile as she rinsed32 the knives and forks.
These hopeful fragments of drama were not to be realized, she knew; but she played that they were true, and went on creating them. In all of them she wore or carried flowers—her mother's sorrow for her in this detail but made it the more important—and she saw herself glamorous33 with orchids34; discarded these for an armful of long-stemmed, heavy roses; tossed them away for a great bouquet35 of white camellias; and so wandered down a lengthening36 hothouse gallery of floral beauty, all costly37 and beyond her reach except in such a wistful day-dream. And upon her present whole horizon, though she searched it earnestly, she could discover no figure of a sender of flowers.
Out of her fancies the desire for flowers to wear that night emerged definitely and became poignant38; she began to feel that it might be particularly important to have them. “This might be the night!” She was still at the age to dream that the night of any dance may be the vital point in destiny. No matter how commonplace or disappointing other dance nights have been this one may bring the great meeting. The unknown magnifico may be there.
Alice was almost unaware39 of her own reveries in which this being appeared—reveries often so transitory that they developed and passed in a few seconds. And in some of them the being was not wholly a stranger; there were moments when he seemed to be composed of recognizable fragments of young men she knew—a smile she had liked, from one; the figure of another, the hair of another—and sometimes she thought he might be concealed40, so to say, within the person of an actual acquaintance, someone she had never suspected of being the right seeker for her, someone who had never suspected that it was she who “waited” for him. Anything might reveal them to each other: a look, a turn of the head, a singular word—perhaps some flowers upon her breast or in her hand.
She wiped the dishes slowly, concluding the operation by dropping a saucer upon the floor and dreamily sweeping41 the fragments under the stove. She sighed and replaced the broom near a window, letting her glance wander over the small yard outside. The grass, repulsively42 besooted to the colour of coal-smoke all winter, had lately come to life again and now sparkled with green, in the midst of which a tiny shot of blue suddenly fixed43 her absent eyes. They remained upon it for several moments, becoming less absent.
It was a violet.
Alice ran upstairs, put on her hat, went outdoors and began to search out the violets. She found twenty-two, a bright omen—since the number was that of her years—but not enough violets. There were no more; she had ransacked44 every foot of the yard.
She looked dubiously45 at the little bunch in her hand, glanced at the lawn next door, which offered no favourable46 prospect47; then went thoughtfully into the house, left her twenty-two violets in a bowl of water, and came quickly out again, her brow marked with a frown of decision. She went to a trolley-line and took a car to the outskirts48 of the city where a new park had been opened.
Here she resumed her search, but it was not an easily rewarded one, and for an hour after her arrival she found no violets. She walked conscientiously49 over the whole stretch of meadow, her eyes roving discontentedly; there was never a blue dot in the groomed50 expanse; but at last, as she came near the borders of an old grove51 of trees, left untouched by the municipal landscapers, the little flowers appeared, and she began to gather them. She picked them carefully, loosening the earth round each tiny plant, so as to bring the roots up with it, that it might live the longer; and she had brought a napkin, which she drenched52 at a hydrant, and kept loosely wrapped about the stems of her collection.
The turf was too damp for her to kneel; she worked patiently, stooping from the waist; and when she got home in a drizzle53 of rain at five o'clock her knees were tremulous with strain, her back ached, and she was tired all over, but she had three hundred violets. Her mother moaned when Alice showed them to her, fragrant54 in a basin of water.
“Oh, you POOR child! To think of your having to work so hard to get things that other girls only need lift their little fingers for!”
“Never mind,” said Alice, huskily. “I've got 'em and I AM going to have a good time to-night!”
“You've just got to!” Mrs. Adams agreed, intensely sympathetic. “The Lord knows you deserve to, after picking all these violets, poor thing, and He wouldn't be mean enough to keep you from it. I may have to get dinner before I finish the dress, but I can get it done in a few minutes afterward55, and it's going to look right pretty. Don't you worry about THAT! And with all these lovely violets——”
“I wonder——” Alice began, paused, then went on, fragmentarily: “I suppose—well, I wonder—do you suppose it would have been better policy to have told Walter before——”
“But he might——”
“Don't worry,” Mrs. Adams reassured57 her. “He'll be a little cross, but he won't be stubborn; just let me talk to him and don't you say anything at all, no matter what HE says.”
These references to Walter concerned some necessary manoeuvres which took place at dinner, and were conducted by the mother, Alice having accepted her advice to sit in silence. Mrs. Adams began by laughing cheerfully. “I wonder how much longer it took me to cook this dinner than it does Walter to eat it?” she said. “Don't gobble, child! There's no hurry.”
In contact with his own family Walter was no squanderer58 of words.
“Is for me,” he said. “Got date.”
“I know you have, but there's plenty of time.”
He smiled in benevolent59 pity. “YOU know, do you? If you made any coffee—don't bother if you didn't. Get some down-town.” He seemed about to rise and depart; whereupon Alice, biting her lip, sent a panic-stricken glance at her mother.
But Mrs. Adams seemed not at all disturbed; and laughed again. “Why, what nonsense, Walter! I'll bring your coffee in a few minutes, but we're going to have dessert first.”
“What sort?”
“Some lovely peaches.”
“Doe' want 'ny canned peaches,” said the frank Walter, moving back his chair. “G'-night.”
“Walter! It doesn't begin till about nine o'clock at the earliest.”
He paused, mystified. “What doesn't?”
“The dance.”
“What dance?”
“Why, Mildred Palmer's dance, of course.”
“Why, you haven't forgotten it's TO-NIGHT, have you?” Mrs. Adams cried. “What a boy!”
“I told you a week ago I wasn't going to that ole dance,” he returned, frowning. “You heard me.”
“Walter!” she exclaimed. “Of COURSE you're going. I got your clothes all out this afternoon, and brushed them for you. They'll look very nice, and——”
“They won't look nice on ME,” he interrupted. “Got date down-town, I tell you.”
“But of course you'll——”
“See here!” Walter said, decisively. “Don't get any wrong ideas in your head. I'm just as liable to go up to that ole dance at the Palmers' as I am to eat a couple of barrels of broken glass.”
“But, Walter——”
Walter was beginning to be seriously annoyed. “Don't 'Walter' me! I'm no s'ciety snake. I wouldn't jazz with that Palmer crowd if they coaxed61 me with diamonds.”
“Walter——”
“Didn't I tell you it's no use to 'Walter' me?” he demanded.
“My dear child——”
“Oh, Glory!”
At this Mrs. Adams abandoned her air of amusement, looked hurt, and glanced at the demure Miss Perry across the table. “I'm afraid Miss Perry won't think you have very good manners, Walter.”
“You're right she won't,” he agreed, grimly. “Not if I haf to hear any more about me goin' to——”
But his mother interrupted him with some asperity62: “It seems very strange that you always object to going anywhere among OUR friends, Walter.”
“YOUR friends!” he said, and, rising from his chair, gave utterance63 to an ironical laugh strictly64 monosyllabic. “Your friends!” he repeated, going to the door. “Oh, yes! Certainly! Good-NIGHT!”
And looking back over his shoulder to offer a final brief view of his derisive65 face, he took himself out of the room.
“I'll stop him!” her mother responded, sharply; and hurried after the truant67, catching68 him at the front door with his hat and raincoat on.
“Walter——”
“Told you had a date down-town,” he said, gruffly, and would have opened the door, but she caught his arm and detained him.
“Walter, please come back and finish your dinner. When I take all the trouble to cook it for you, I think you might at least——”
“Now, now!” he said. “That isn't what you're up to. You don't want to make me eat; you want to make me listen.”
“Well, you MUST listen!” She retained her grasp upon his arm, and made it tighter. “Walter, please!” she entreated69, her voice becoming tremulous. “PLEASE don't make me so much trouble!”
He drew back from her as far as her hold upon him permitted, and looked at her sharply. “Look here!” he said. “I get you, all right! What's the matter of Alice GOIN' to that party by herself?”
“She just CAN'T!”
“Why not?”
“It makes things too MEAN for her, Walter. All the other girls have somebody to depend on after they get there.”
“Well, why doesn't she have somebody?” he asked, testily70. “Somebody besides ME, I mean! Why hasn't somebody asked her to go? She ought to be THAT popular, anyhow, I sh'd think—she TRIES enough!”
“I don't understand how you can be so hard,” his mother wailed71, huskily. “You know why they don't run after her the way they do the other girls she goes with, Walter. It's because we're poor, and she hasn't got any background.
“'Background?'” Walter repeated. “'Background?' What kind of talk is that?”
“You WILL go with her to-night, Walter?” his mother pleaded, not stopping to enlighten him. “You don't understand how hard things are for her and how brave she is about them, or you COULDN'T be so selfish! It'd be more than I can bear to see her disappointed to-night! She went clear out to Belleview Park this afternoon, Walter, and spent hours and hours picking violets to wear. You WILL——”
Walter's heart was not iron, and the episode of the violets may have reached it. “Oh, BLUB!” he said, and flung his soft hat violently at the wall.
His mother beamed with delight. “THAT'S a good boy, darling! You'll never be sorry you——”
“Cut it out,” he requested. “If I take her, will you pay for a taxi?”
“No, I couldn't; I'm not goin' to throw away my good money like that, and you can't tell what time o' night it'll be before she's willin' to come home. What's the matter you payin' for one?”
“I haven't any money.”
“Well, father——”
She shook her head dolefully. “I got some from him this morning, and I can't bother him for any more; it upsets him. He's ALWAYS been so terribly close with money——”
“I guess he couldn't help that,” Walter observed. “We're liable to go to the poorhouse the way it is. Well, what's the matter our walkin' to this rotten party?”
“In the rain, Walter?”
“Well, it's only a drizzle and we can take a streetcar to within a block of the house.”
Again his mother shook her head. “It wouldn't do.”
“Well, darn the luck, all right!” he consented, explosively. “I'll get her something to ride in. It means seventy-five cents.”
“Why, Walter!” Mrs. Adams cried, much pleased. “Do you know how to get a cab for that little? How splendid!”
“Tain't a cab,” Walter informed her crossly. “It's a tin Lizzie, but you don't haf' to tell her what it is till I get her into it, do you?”
Mrs. Adams agreed that she didn't.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
sketching
|
|
| n.草图 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
sketch
|
|
| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
alterations
|
|
| n.改动( alteration的名词复数 )；更改；变化；改变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
heeding
|
|
| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
vibrations
|
|
| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
nomadic
|
|
| adj.流浪的；游牧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
dawdling
|
|
| adj.闲逛的，懒散的v.混（时间）( dawdle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
whack
|
|
| v.敲击，重打，瓜分；n.重击，重打，尝试，一份 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
ironical
|
|
| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
exasperating
|
|
| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
manifestation
|
|
| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
beset
|
|
| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
optimist
|
|
| n.乐观的人，乐观主义者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
intervals
|
|
| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
incumbent
|
|
| adj.成为责任的，有义务的；现任的，在职的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
preoccupied
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
protracted
|
|
| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
hearty
|
|
| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
enraged
|
|
| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
philosophically
|
|
| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
lamenting
|
|
| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
demure
|
|
| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
fluffy
|
|
| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
determinedly
|
|
| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
ballroom
|
|
| n.舞厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
accurately
|
|
| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
rinsed
|
|
| v.漂洗( rinse的过去式和过去分词 )；冲洗；用清水漂洗掉（肥皂泡等）；（用清水）冲掉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
glamorous
|
|
| adj.富有魅力的；美丽动人的；令人向往的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
orchids
|
|
| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
bouquet
|
|
| n.花束，酒香 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
lengthening
|
|
| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
costly
|
|
| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
poignant
|
|
| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
unaware
|
|
| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
repulsively
|
|
| adv.冷淡地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
43
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
ransacked
|
|
| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
dubiously
|
|
| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
favourable
|
|
| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
outskirts
|
|
| n.郊外，郊区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
conscientiously
|
|
| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
groomed
|
|
| v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的过去式和过去分词 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
grove
|
|
| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
drenched
|
|
| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
drizzle
|
|
| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
fragrant
|
|
| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
grumble
|
|
| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
reassured
|
|
| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
squanderer
|
|
| n.浪费者，放荡者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
59
benevolent
|
|
| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
coaxed
|
|
| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
asperity
|
|
| n.粗鲁，艰苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
strictly
|
|
| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
derisive
|
|
| adj.嘲弄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
truant
|
|
| n.懒惰鬼，旷课者；adj.偷懒的，旷课的，游荡的；v.偷懒，旷课 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
entreated
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
testily
|
|
| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
wailed
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |