"What clothes am I to take?" she asked her mother, in a tone which she mentally denominated "quiet and cold," though possibly some people might have called it "sullen3."
"Your clothes are already packed, dear," replied Mrs. Graham; "you have only to pack your dressing-bag, to be all ready for the start to-morrow. See, here is your trunk, locked and strapped4, and waiting for the porter's shoulder;" and she showed Hilda a stout5, substantial-looking trunk, bearing the initials H.G.
"But, mamma," Hilda began, wondering greatly, "my dresses are all hanging in my wardrobe."
"Not all of them, dear!" said her mother, smiling. "Hark! papa is calling you. Make haste and go down, for dinner is ready."
Wondering more and more, Hildegarde made a hasty toilet, putting on the pretty pale blue cashmere dress which her father specially6 liked, with silk stockings to match, and dainty slippers7 of bronze kid. As she clasped the necklace of delicate blue and silver Venetian beads8 which completed the costume, she glanced into the long cheval-glass which stood between the windows, and could not help giving a little approving nod to her reflection. Though not a great beauty, Hildegarde was certainly a remarkably9 pretty and even distinguished-looking girl; and "being neither blind nor a fool," she soliloquized, "where is the harm in acknowledging it?" But the next moment the thought came: "What difference will it make, in a stupid farm-house, whether I am pretty or not? I might as well be a Hottentot!" and with the "quiet and cold" look darkening over her face, she went slowly down stairs.
Her father met her with a kiss and clasp of the hand even warmer than usual.
"Well, General!" he said, in a voice which insisted upon being cheery, "marching orders, eh? Marching orders! Break up camp! boot, saddle, to horse and away! Forces to march in different directions, by order of the commander-in-chief." But the next moment he added, in an altered tone: "My girl, mamma knows best; remember that! She is right in this move, as she generally is. Cheer up, darling, and let us make the last evening a happy one!"
Hilda tried to smile, for who could be angry with papa? She made a little effort, and the father and mother made a great one,—how great she could not know; and so the evening passed, better than might have been expected.
The evening passed, and the night, and the next day came; and it was like waking from a strange dream when Hilda found herself in a railway train, with her father sitting beside her, and her mother's farewell kiss yet warm on her cheek, speeding over the open country, away from home and all that she held most dear. Her dressing-bag, with her umbrella neatly10 strapped to it, was in the rack overhead, the check for her trunk in her pocket. Could it all be true? She tried to listen while her father told her of the happy days he had spent on his grandfather's farm when he was a boy; but the interest was not real, and she found it hard to fix her mind on what he was saying. What did she care about swinging on gates, or climbing apple-trees, or riding unruly colts! She was not a boy, nor even a tomboy. When he spoke11 of the delights of walking in the country through woodland and meadow, her thoughts strayed to Fifth Avenue, with its throng12 of well-dressed people, the glittering equipages rolling by, the stately houses on either side, through whose shining windows one caught glimpses of the splendors13 within; and to the Park, with its shady alleys14 and well-kept lawns. Could there be any walking so delightful15 as that which these afforded? Surely not! Ah! Madge and Helen were probably just starting for their walk now. Did they know of her banishment16? would they laugh at the thought of Queen Hildegardis vegetating17 for three months at a wretched—
"Glenfield!" The brakeman's voice rang clear and sharp through the car. Hilda started, and seized her father's hand convulsively.
"Papa!" she whispered, "O papa! don't leave me here; take me home! I cannot bear it!"
"Come, my child!" said Mr. Graham, speaking low, and with an odd catch in his voice; "that is not the way to go into action. Remember, this is your first battle. So, eyes front! charge bayonets! quick step! forward, march!"
The train had stopped. They were on the platform. Mr. Graham led Hilda up to a stout, motherly-looking woman, who held out her hand with a beaming smile.
"Here is my daughter, Mrs. Hartley!" he said, hastily. "You will take good care of her, I know. My darling, good-by! I go on to Dashford, and home by return train in an hour. God bless you, my Hilda! Courage! Up, Guards, and at them! Remember Waterloo!" and he was gone. The engine shrieked18 an unearthly "Good-by!" and the train rumbled19 away, leaving Hilda gazing after it through a mist which only her strong will prevented from dissolving in tears.
"Well, my dear," said Dame20 Hartley's cheery voice, "your papa's gone, and you must not stand here and fret21 after him. Here is old Nancy shaking her head, and wondering why she does not get home to her dinner. Do you get into the cart, and I will get the station-master to put your trunk in for us."
Hilda obeyed in silence; and climbing into the neat wagon22, took her seat and looked about her while Dame Hartley bustled23 off in search of the station-master. There was not very much to look at at Glenfield station. The low wooden building with its long platform stood on a bare spot of ground, from which the trees all stood back, as if to mark their disapproval24 of the railway and all that belonged to it. The sandy soil made little attempt to produce vegetation, but put out little humps of rock occasionally, to show what it could do. Behind, a road led off into the woods, hiding itself behind the low-hanging branches of chestnut25 and maple26, ash and linden trees. That was all. Now that the train was gone, the silence was unbroken save by the impatient movements of the old white mare27 as she shook the flies off and rattled28 the jingling29 harness.
Hilda was too weary to think. She had slept little the night before, and the suddenness of the recent changes confused her mind and made her feel as if she were some one else, and not herself at all. She sat patiently, counting half-unconsciously each quiver of Nancy's ears. But now Dame Hartley came bustling30 back with the station-master, and between the two, Hilda's trunk was hoisted31 into the cart. Then the good woman climbed in over the wheel, settled her ample person on the seat and gathered up the reins32, while the station-master stood smoothing the mare's mane, ready for a parting word of friendly gossip.
"Jacob pooty smart!" he asked, brushing a fly from Nancy's shoulder.
"Only middling," was the reply. "He had a touch o' rheumatiz, that last spell of wet weather, and it seems to hang on, kind of. Ketches him in the joints33 and the small of his back if he rises up suddin."
"I know! I know!" replied the station-master, with eager interest. "Jest like my spells ketches me; on'y I have it powerful bad acrost my shoulders, too. I been kerryin' a potato in my pocket f'r over and above a week now, and I'm in hopes 't'll cure me."
"A potato in your pocket!" exclaimed Dame Hartley. "Reuel Slocum! what do you mean?"
"Sounds curus, don't it?" returned Mr. Slocum. "But it's a fact that it's a great cure for rheumatiz. A grea-at cure! Why, there's Barzillay Smith, over to Peat's Corner, has kerried a potato in his pocket for five years,—not the same potato, y' know; changes 'em when they begin to sprout,—and he hesn't hed a touch o' rheumatism34 all that time. Not a touch! tol' me so himself."
"Had he ever hed it before?" asked Dame Hartley.
"I d'no as he hed," said Mr. Slocum, "But his father hed; an' his granf'ther before him. So ye see—"
But here Hilda uttered a long sigh of weariness and impatience35; and Dame Hartley, with a penitent36 glance at her, bade good-morning to the victim of rheumatism, gave old Nancy a smart slap with the reins, and drove off down the wood-road.
"My dear child," she said to Hilda as they jogged along, "I ought not to have kept you waiting so long, and you tired with your ride in the cars. But Reuel Slocum lives all alone here, and he does enjoy a little chat with an old neighbor more than most folks; so I hope you'll excuse me."
"It is of no consequence, thank you," murmured Hildegarde, with cold civility. She did not like to be called "my dear child," to begin with; and besides, she was very weary and heartsick, and altogether miserable37. But she tried to listen, as the good woman continued to talk in a cheery, comfortable tone, telling her how fond she had always been of "Miss Mildred," as she called Mrs. Graham, and how she had the care of her till she was almost a woman grown, and never would have left her then if Jacob Hartley hadn't got out of patience.
"And to think how you've grown, Hilda dear! You don't remember it, of course, but this isn't the first time you have been at Hartley's Glen. A sweet baby you were, just toddling38 about on the prettiest little feet I ever saw, when your mamma brought you out here to spend a month with old Nurse Lucy. And your father came out every week, whenever he could get away from his business. What a fine man he is, to be sure! And he and my husband had rare times, shooting over the meadows, and fishing, and the like."
They were still in the wood-road, now jolting39 along over ridges40 and hummocks41, now ploughing through stretches of soft, sandy soil. Above and on either side, the great trees interlaced their branches, sometimes letting them droop42 till they brushed against Hilda's cheek, sometimes lifting them to give her a glimpse of cool vistas43 of dusky green, shade within shade,—moss-grown hollows, where the St. John's-wort showed its tarnished44 gold, and white Indian pipe gleamed like silver along the ground; or stony45 beds over which, in the time of the spring rains, little brown brooks46 ran foaming47 and bubbling down through the woods. The air was filled with the faint cool smell of ferns, and on every side were great masses of them,—clumps of splendid ostrich-ferns, waving their green plumes49 in stately pride; miniature forests of the graceful50 brake, beneath whose feathery branches the wood-mouse and other tiny forest-creatures roamed secure; and in the very road-way, trampled51 under old Nancy's feet, delicate lady-fern, and sturdy hart's-tongue, and a dozen other varieties, all perfect in grace and sylvan52 beauty. Hilda was conscious of a vague delight, through all her fatigue53 and distress54 How beautiful it was; how cool and green and restful! If she must stay in the country, why could it not be always in the woods, where there was no noise, nor dust, nor confusion?
Her revery was broken in upon by Dame Hartley's voice crying cheerily,—
"And here we are, out of the woods at last! Cheer up, my pretty, and let me show you the first sight of the farm. It's a pleasant, heartsome place, to my thinking."
The trees opened left and right, stepping back and courtesying, like true gentlefolks as they are, with delicate leaf-draperies drooping55 low. The sun shone bright and hot on a bit of hard, glaring yellow road, and touched more quietly the roofs and chimneys of an old yellow farm-house standing56 at some distance from the road, with green rolling meadows on every side, and a great clump48 of trees mounting guard behind it. A low stone wall, with wild-roses nodding over it, ran along the roadside for some way, and midway in it was a trim, yellow-painted gate, which stood invitingly57 open, showing a neat drive-way, shaded on either side by graceful drooping elms. Old Nancy pricked58 up her ears and quickened her pace into a very respectable trot59, as if she already smelt60 her oats. Dame Hartley shook her own comfortable shoulders and gave a little sigh of relief, for she too was tired, and glad to get home. But Hilda tightened61 her grasp on the handle of her dressing-bag, and closed her eyes with a slight shiver of dislike and dread62. She would not look at this place. It was the hateful prison where she was to be shut up for three long, weary, dismal63 months. The sun might shine on it, the trees might wave, and the wild-roses open their slender pink buds; it would be nothing to her. She hated it, and nothing, nothing, nothing could ever make her feel differently. Ah! the fixed64 and immovable determination of fifteen,—does later life bring anything like it?
But now the wagon stopped, and Hilda must open her eyes, whether she would or no. In the porch, under the blossoming clematis, stood a tall, broad-shouldered man, dressed in rough homespun, who held out his great brown hand and said in a gruff, hearty65 voice,—
"Here ye be, eh? Thought ye was never comin'. And this is little miss, is it? Howdy, missy? Glad to see ye! Let me jump ye out over the wheel!"
But Hilda declined to be "jumped out;" and barely touching66 the proffered67 hand, sprang lightly to the ground.
"Now, Marm Lucy," said Farmer Hartley, "let's see you give a jump like that. 'Tain't so long, seems to me, sence ye used to be as spry as a hoppergrass."
Dame Hartley laughed, and climbed leisurely68 down from the cart. "Never mind, Jacob!" she said; "I'm spry enough yet to take care of you, if I can't jump as well as I used."
"This missy's trunk?" continued the farmer. "Let me see! What's missy's name now? Huldy, ain't it! Little Huldy! 'Pears to me that's what they used to call ye when ye was here before."
"My name is Hildegardis Graham!" said Hilda in her most icy manner,—what Madge Everton used to call her Empress-of-Russia-in-the-ice-palace-with-the-mercury-sixty-degrees-below-zero manner.
"Huldy Gardies!" repeated Farmer Hartley. "Well, that's a comical name now! Sounds like Hurdy-gurdys, doosn't it? Where did Mis' Graham pick up a name like that, I wonder? But I reckon Huldy'll do for me, 'thout the Gardies, whatever they be."
"Come, father," said Dame Hartley, "the child's tired now, an' I guess she wants to go upstairs. If you'll take the trunk, we'll follow ye."
The stalwart farmer swung the heavy trunk up on his shoulder as lightly as if it were a small satchel69, and led the way into the house and up the steep, narrow staircase.
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收听单词发音
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1
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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4
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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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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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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splendors
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| n.华丽( splendor的名词复数 )；壮丽；光辉；显赫 | |
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alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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banishment
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| n.放逐，驱逐 | |
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vegetating
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| v.过单调呆板的生活( vegetate的现在分词 )；植物似地生长；（瘤、疣等）长大 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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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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bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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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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toddling
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| v.（幼儿等）东倒西歪地走( toddle的现在分词 )；蹒跚行走；溜达；散步 | |
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jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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hummocks
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| n.小丘，岗( hummock的名词复数 ) | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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51
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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sylvan
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| adj.森林的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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invitingly
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| adv. 动人地 | |
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pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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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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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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67
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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69
satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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