Sometimes they squabbled politely, while old Lady Marchendale, who was deaf, sat and dozed6 in her chair. They were squabbling this afternoon over a problem that, strange to say, had something to do with the matter in hand. Miss Whiffen had contradicted Mrs. Brocklebank, and so they proceeded to argue.
“Every thinking person ought to realise that there are a million more women than men in the country.”
“I wasn’t questioning that.”
“Therefore the female birth rate must be higher than the male.”
Miss Whiffen retorted with figures. She was always attacking Mrs. Brocklebank with statistics.
“If you look up the records you will find that there are about a hundred and five boys born to every hundred girls.”
“That does not alter the situation.”
“Oh, of course not.”
Mrs. Brocklebank paused, and turned the big gun on Miss Whiffen.
“I said marriageable young women! Have you any objection to the term, Miss Whiffen?”
“Oh, not in the least! But does it follow that, because they marry when they get to the Colonies——”
“What follows?”
“Why, children.”
“Marriages are more fruitful in a young country.”
“But are they? When my married sister was home from Australia last time, she told me——”
Gertrude Canterton joined in.
“Men are so much more selfish than they used to be.”
“I think the women are as bad. And, of course, the question of population——”
Old Lady Marchendale, who had dozed off in her arm-chair by the window, woke up, caught a few fragmental words, and created a digression.
“They ought to be made to have them—by law!”
“But, my dear Lady Marchendale——”
“I see her ladyship’s point.”
“Every girl ought to have her own room.”
“Of course, most certainly! But in the matter of emigration——”
“Emigration? What has emigration to do with the Shop Girls’ Self Help Society?”
“My dear Lady Marchendale, we are discussing the scheme for sending young women to the Colonies.”
“Bless me, I must have been asleep. I remember. Look at that lad of yours, Mrs. Canterton, out there in the garden. I’m sure he has cut his hand.”
Lady Marchendale might be rather deaf, but she had unusually sharp eyes, and Gertrude Canterton, rising in her chair, saw one of the lads employed in the home garden running across the lawn, and wrapping a piece of sacking round his left hand and wrist.
She hurried to the window.
“What is the matter, Pennyweight?”
“Cut m’ wrist, mum, swappin’ the hedge.”
“How careless! I will come and see what wants doing.”
There had been First Aid classes in the village. In fact, Gertrude Canterton had started them. Miss Whiffen and several members of the committee followed her into the garden and surrounded the lad Pennyweight, who looked white and scared.
“Take that dirty sacking away, Pennyweight! Don’t you know such things are full of microbes?”
“It’s bleedin’ so bad, mum.”
“Let me see.”
The lad obeyed her, uncovering his wrist gingerly, his face flinching11. The inner swathings of sacking were being soaked with blood from the steady pumping of a half-severed artery12.
Miss Whiffen made a little sibilant sound.
“Sssf, sssf—dear, dear!”
“A nasty cut.”
“Hadn’t I better go t’ Mr. Lavender, mum? It does bleed.”
“Nonsense, Pennyweight! Miss Ronan, would you mind going in and ringing for the housekeeper15? Tell her I want some clean linen16, and some hot water and boracic acid.”
Miss Whiffen was interested but alarmed.
“It’s a cut artery. We ought to compress the brachial artery.”
“Isn’t it the femoral?”
“No, that’s in the leg. You squeeze the arm just——”
“Exactly. Along the inside seam of the sleeve.”
“But he has no coat on.”
This was a poser. Gertrude Canterton looked annoyed.
“Where’s your coat, Pennyweight?”
“Down by t’ hedge, mum.”
“If he had his coat on we should know just where to compress the artery.”
No one noticed Canterton and Lynette till the man and the child were within five yards of the group.
“What’s the matter?”
The lad faced round sharply, appeared to disentangle himself from the women, and to turn instinctively17 to Canterton.
“We must stop that bleeding.”
He pulled out a big bandanna18 handkerchief, passed it round the lad’s arm, knotted it, and took a folding foot-rule from his pocket.
“Hold that just there, Bob.”
He made another knot over the rule on the inside of the arm, and then twisted the extemporised tourniquet19 till the lad winced20.
“Hurt?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s stopped it. Gertrude, send one of the maids down to the office and tell Griggs to ride down on his bicycle for Kearton. Feel funny, Bob?”
“Just a bit, sir.”
“Lie down flat in the shade there. I’ll get you a glass of grog.”
Lynette, solemn and sympathetic, had stood watching her father, disassociating herself from her mother and Miss Whiffen, and the members of the committee.
“Wasn’t it a good thing I found daddy, Bob?”
“It was, miss.”
“The old ladies might have let you bleed to death, mightn’t they?”
Bob looked sheepish, and Gertrude Canterton called Lynette away.
“Go to the nursery, Lynette. It is tea time.”
Lynette chose to enter the house by the library window, and, finding old Lady Marchendale sitting there in the arm-chair, put up her face to be kissed. She liked Lady Marchendale because she had pretty white hair, and eyes that twinkled.
“What, my dear?”
“Did you see Bob’s bloody hand?”
“I can’t quite hear, dear.”
“Did—you—see—Bob’s—bloody—hand?”
“Lynette, you must not use such words!”
Gertrude Canterton stood at the open window, and Lady Marchendale was laughing.
“What words, mother?”
“Such words as ‘bloody.’”
“But it was bloody, mother.”
“Bless the child, how fresh! Come and give me another kiss, dear.”
Lynette gave it with enthusiasm.
“I do like your white hair.”
“It is not so pretty as yours, my dear. Now, run along. We are very busy.”
She watched Lynette go, nodding her head at her and smiling.
“I think she’s a pet. You don’t want to make a little prig of her, do you?”
“She’s so undisciplined.”
“Oh, fudge! What you call being ‘savage,’ is being healthy and natural. You don’t want to make the child a woman before she’s been a child.”
The gong rang for tea.
Eve was painting in the rosery when Mrs. Brocklebank persuaded the members of the committee that she—and therefore they—wanted to see Mr. Canterton’s roses. It was a purely24 perfunctory pilgrimage, so far as Gertrude Canterton was concerned, and her voice struck a note of passive disapproval25.
“I think there is much too much time and money wasted upon flowers.”
“Oh, Mrs. Canterton! But isn’t this just sweet!”
“I don’t know very much about roses, but I believe my husband’s are supposed to be wonderful.”
She sighted Eve, stared, and diverged26 towards her down a side path, smiling with thin graciousness.
“Miss Carfax?”
Eve did not offer to explain her presence. She supposed that Gertrude Canterton knew all about her husband’s book, and the illustrations that were needed.
“You are making a study of flowers?”
“Yes.”
“That’s right. I hope you will find plenty of material here.”
“Mr. Canterton was kind enough to let me come in and see what I could do.”
“Exactly. May I see?”
She minced27 round behind Eve, and looked over the girl’s shoulder at the sketch28 she had on her lap.
“That’s quite nice—quite nice! But what a lot of colour you have put into it.”
“There is rather a lot of colour in the garden itself.”
“Yes, but I’m afraid I can’t see what you have put on paper——”
Miss Whiffen was clamouring to be told the name of a certain rose.
“Mrs. Canterton—Mrs. Canterton!”
“Yes, dear?”
“Do tell me the name of this rose!”
“I’ll come and look. I can’t burden my memory with the names of flowers. Perhaps it is labelled. Everything ought to be labelled. It is such a saving of time.”
Eve smiled, and turning to glance at the rose bed she was painting, discovered a big woman in black hanging a large white face over the one particular rose in the garden. Mrs. Brocklebank had discovered Guinevere, and a cherished flower that was just opening to the sunlight.
Mrs. Brocklebank always carried a black vanity bag, though it did not contain such things as mirror, papier poudre, violet powder, hairpins29, and scent30. A notebook, two or three neat twists of string, a pair of scissors, a mother-of-pearl card-case, pince-nez, and a little bottle of corn solvent31 that she had just bought in Basingford—these were the occupants. Eve saw her open the bag, take out the scissors, and bend over Guinevere.
Eve dared to intervene.
“Excuse me, but that rose must not be touched.”
“Indeed!”
“I believe Mr. Canterton wants that flower.”
“What is it, Philippa?”
“There is rather a nice bud here, and I was going to steal it, but this young lady——”
“Miss Carfax!”
Eve felt her face flushing.
“I believe Mr. Canterton wants that flower.”
“Nonsense. Why, there are hundreds here. Take it, my dear, by all means, take it.”
“I insist. James is absolutely foolish about his flowers. He won’t let me send a maid down with a basket. And we had such a quarrel once about the orchid35 house.”
Eve turned and went back to her stool. Mrs. Brocklebank’s eyes followed her with solemn disapproval.
“That’s a rather forward young person.”
“Do take the flower, Philippa.”
“I will.”
And the rose was tucked into Mrs. Brocklebank’s belt.
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收听单词发音
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1
dominant
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| adj.支配的，统治的；占优势的；显性的；n.主因，要素，主要的人(或物)；显性基因 | |
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2
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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3
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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4
torpedo
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| n.水雷，地雷；v.用鱼雷破坏 | |
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5
torpedoes
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| 鱼雷( torpedo的名词复数 )； 油井爆破筒； 刺客； 掼炮 | |
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6
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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8
prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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9
decadence
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| n.衰落，颓废 | |
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10
swap
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| n.交换；vt.交换，用...作交易 | |
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11
flinching
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的现在分词 ) | |
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12
artery
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| n.干线，要道；动脉 | |
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13
restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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14
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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15
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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16
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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17
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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18
bandanna
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| n.大手帕 | |
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19
tourniquet
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| n.止血器，绞压器，驱血带 | |
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20
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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22
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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23
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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24
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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25
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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26
diverged
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| 分开( diverge的过去式和过去分词 )； 偏离； 分歧； 分道扬镳 | |
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27
minced
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| v.切碎( mince的过去式和过去分词 )；剁碎；绞碎；用绞肉机绞（食物，尤指肉） | |
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28
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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29
hairpins
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| n.发夹( hairpin的名词复数 ) | |
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30
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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31
solvent
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| n.溶剂；adj.有偿付能力的 | |
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32
hauteur
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| n.傲慢 | |
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33
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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34
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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35
orchid
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| n.兰花，淡紫色 | |
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