“This unsolicited testimonial—”
“Which isn’t often—and if you don’t do it this time I wash my hands of you. Why, how old are you?”
“Hush, Mrs. Hilary.”
“You must be nearly—”
“It’s false—false—false!”
“Come along,” said Mrs. Hilary, and she added over her shoulder, “she has a slight north-country accent.”
“It might have been Scotch,” said I.
“She plays the piano a good deal.”
“It might have been the fiddle,” said I.
“She’s very fond of Browning.”
“It might have been Ibsen,” said I.
Mrs. Hilary, seeing that I was determined1 to look on the bright side, smiled graciously on me and introduced me to the young lady. She was decidedly good-looking, fresh and sincere of aspect, with large inquiring eyes—eyes which I felt would demand a little too much of me at breakfast—but then a large tea-urn puts that all right.
“Miss Sophia Milton—Mr. Carter,” said Mrs. Hilary, and left us.
Well, we tried the theaters first; but as she had only been to the Lyceum and I had only been to the Gaioety, we soon got to the end of that. Then we tried Art: she asked me what I thought of Degas: I evaded2 the question by criticizing a drawing of a horse in last week’s Punch—which she hadn’t seen. Upon this she started literature. She said “Some Qualms3 and a Shiver” was the book of the season. I put my money on “The Queen of the Quorn.” Dead stop again! And I saw Mrs. Hilary’s eye upon me; there was wrath4 in her face. Something must be done. A brilliant idea seized me. I had read that four-fifths of the culture of England were Conservative. I also was a Conservative. It was four to one on! I started politics. I could have whooped5 for joy when I elicited6 something particularly incisive7 about the ignorance of the masses.
“I do hope you agree with me,” said Miss Milton. “The more one reads and thinks, the more one sees how fatally false a theory it is that the ignorant masses—people such as I have described—can ever rule a great Empire.”
“The Empire wants gentlemen; that’s what it wants,” said I, nodding my head and glancing triumphantly8 at Mrs. Hilary.
“Men and women,” said she, “who are acquainted with the best that has been said and thought on all important subjects.”
At the time I believed this observation to be original, but I have since been told that it was borrowed. I was delighted with it.
“Yes,” said I, “and have got a stake in the country, you know, and know how to behave emselves in the House, don’t you know?”
“What we have to do,” pursued Miss Milton, “is to guide the voters. These poor rustics9 need to be informed—”
“Just so,” I broke in. “They have to be told—”
“Of the real nature of the questions—”
“And which candidate to support.”
“Or they must infallibly”—she exclaimed.
“Get their marching orders,” I cried, in rapture10. It was exactly what I always did on my small property.
“Oh, I didn’t quite mean that,” she said reproachfully.
“But with the help of the League—” she went on.
“Do you belong?” I cried, more delighted than ever.
“O, yes,” said she. “I think it’s a duty. I worked very hard at the last election. I spent days distributing packages of—”
Then I made, I’m sorry to say, a false step. I observed, interrupting:
“What do you mean, Mr.—er Carter?” she asked.
Miss Milton drew herself up very straight.
“I do not bribe,” she said. “What I distribute is pamphlets.”
“Quite right,” said I. “Poor old things! They can’t afford proper fuel.”
She rose to her feet.
“I was not joking,” she said with horrible severity.
“Pamphlets.”
“Oh!”
There was a long pause. I glanced at Mrs. Hilary. Things had not fallen out as happily as they might, but I did not mean to give up yet.
“To throw away our true weapons,” said she earnestly. (She sat down again—good sign.)
“What we really need—” I began.
“Is a reform of the upper classes,” said she.
I was not to be caught out again.
“Just what I always say,” I observed, impressively.
“You’re right, Miss Milton,” said I.
“Let them set an example of morality.”
Miss Milton smiled.
“I thought we agreed really,” said she.
“I’m sure we do,” cried I; and I winked with my “off” eye at Mrs. Hilary as I sat down beside Miss Milton.
“Now I heard of a man the other day,” said she, “who’s nearly 40. He’s got an estate in the country. He never goes there, except for a few days’ shooting. He lives in town. He spends too much. He passes an absolutely vacant existence in a round of empty gaiety. He has by no means a good reputation. He dangles22 about, wasting his time and his money. Is that the sort of example—?”
“If you want him, you must look on a race course, or at a tailor’s, or in some fashionable woman’s boudoir. And his estate looks after itself. He’s too selfish to marry, too idle to work, too silly to think.”
I began to be sorry for this man, in spite of his peccadilloes24.
“I wonder if I’ve met him,” said I. “I’m occasionally in town, when I can get time to run up. What’s his name?”
“I don’t think I heard—or I’ve forgotten. But he’s got the place next to a friend of mine in the country, and she told me all about him. She’s exactly the opposite sort of person—or she wouldn’t be my friend.”
“I should think not, Miss Milton,” said I admiringly.
“Oh, I should like to meet that man, and tell him what I think of him!” said she. “Such men as he do more harm than a dozen agitators25. So contemptible26, too!”
“It’s revolting to think of,” said I.
“I’m so glad you—” began Miss Milton, quite confidentially27; I pulled my chair a trifle closer, and cast an apparently28 careless glance towards Mrs. Hilary. Suddenly I heard a voice behind me.
“Eh, what? Upon my honor it is! Why, Carter, my boy, how are you? Eh, what? Miss Milton, too, I declare! Well, now, what a pity Annie didn’t come!”
I disagreed. I hate Annie. But I was very glad to see my friend and neighbor, Robert Dinnerly. He’s a sensible man—his wife’s a little prig.
“Oh, Mr. Dinnerly,” cried Miss Milton, “how funny that you should come just now? I was just trying to remember the name of a man Mrs. Dinnerly told me about. I was telling Mr. Carter about him. You know him.”
“Well, Miss Milton, perhaps I do. Describe him.”
“I don’t believe Annie ever told me his name, but she was talking about him at our house yesterday.”
“But I wasn’t there, Miss Milton.”
“No,” said Miss Milton, “but he’s got the next place to yours in the country.”
I positively29 leaped from my seat.
“Why, good gracious, Carter himself, you mean?” cried Dinnerly, laughing. “Well, that is a good un—ha-ha-ha!”
“Do you live next to Mr. Dinnerly in the country?” she asked.
I would have denied it if Dinnerly had not been there. As it was, I blew my nose.
“I wonder,” said Miss Milton, “what has become of Aunt Emily.”
“Miss Milton,” said I, “by a happy chance you have enjoyed a luxury. You have told the man what you think of him.”
“Yes,” said she; “and I have only to add that he is also a hypocrite.”
Pleasant, wasn’t it? Yet Mrs. Hilary says it was my fault. That’s a woman all over!
点击收听单词发音
1 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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2 evaded | |
逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 ); 避开; 回避; 想不出 | |
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3 qualms | |
n.不安;内疚 | |
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4 wrath | |
n.愤怒,愤慨,暴怒 | |
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5 whooped | |
叫喊( whoop的过去式和过去分词 ); 高声说; 唤起 | |
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6 elicited | |
引出,探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7 incisive | |
adj.敏锐的,机敏的,锋利的,切入的 | |
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8 triumphantly | |
ad.得意洋洋地;得胜地;成功地 | |
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9 rustics | |
n.有农村或村民特色的( rustic的名词复数 );粗野的;不雅的;用粗糙的木材或树枝制作的 | |
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10 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
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11 adroitly | |
adv.熟练地,敏捷地 | |
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12 ticklish | |
adj.怕痒的;问题棘手的;adv.怕痒地;n.怕痒,小心处理 | |
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13 winked | |
v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 );递眼色(表示友好或高兴等);(指光)闪烁;闪亮 | |
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14 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
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15 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
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16 humbly | |
adv. 恭顺地,谦卑地 | |
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17 descend | |
vt./vi.传下来,下来,下降 | |
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18 frugality | |
n.节约,节俭 | |
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19 racing | |
n.竞赛,赛马;adj.竞赛用的,赛马用的 | |
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20 luxurious | |
adj.精美而昂贵的;豪华的 | |
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21 assented | |
同意,赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22 dangles | |
悬吊着( dangle的第三人称单数 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
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23 traitor | |
n.叛徒,卖国贼 | |
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24 peccadilloes | |
n.轻罪,小过失( peccadillo的名词复数 ) | |
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25 agitators | |
n.(尤指政治变革的)鼓动者( agitator的名词复数 );煽动者;搅拌器;搅拌机 | |
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26 contemptible | |
adj.可鄙的,可轻视的,卑劣的 | |
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27 confidentially | |
ad.秘密地,悄悄地 | |
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28 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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29 positively | |
adv.明确地,断然,坚决地;实在,确实 | |
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30 stony | |
adj.石头的,多石头的,冷酷的,无情的 | |
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