"I wonder that I haven't told you, dear!" replied Nurse Lucy, placidly1. "I suppose I am so used to Pink as she is, I forget that she ever was like other people. She is a dear, good child,—his 'sermon,' Jacob calls her. He says that whenever he feels impatient or put out, he likes to go down and look at Pink, and hear her talk. 'It takes the crook2 right out of me!' he says. Poor Jacob!"
"But how did it happen?" asked Hilda. "She says she was only three years when she—Oh, think of it, Nurse Lucy! It is too dreadful. Tell me how it happened."
"Don't ask me, my dear!" said Dame3 Hartley, sadly. "Why should you hear anything so painful? It would only haunt your mind as it haunted mine for years after. The worst of it was, there was no need of it. Her mother was a young, flighty, careless girl, and she didn't look after her baby as she should have done. That is all you need know, Hilda, my dear! Poor Susan Chirk! it took the flightiness out of her, and made her the anxious, melancholy4 soul she has been ever since. Then Bubble was born, and soon after her husband died, and since then she has had a hard time to fend5 for herself. But Pink has never been any trouble to her, only a help and a comfort; and her neighbors have done what they could from time to time."
Dame Hartley might have said that she and her husband had kept this desolate6 widow and her children from starvation through many a long winter, and had given her the means of earning her daily bread in summer; had clothed the children, and provided comforts for the crippled girl. But this was not Nurse Lucy's way. The neighbors had done what they could, she said; and now Bubble was earning good wages for a boy, and was sure to get on well, being bright and industrious7; and Mrs. Chirk took in weaving to do for the neighbors, and went out sometimes to work by the day; and so they were really getting on very well,—better than one could have hoped.
Hildegarde laid her head against the good Dame's shoulder and fell into a brown study. Nurse Lucy seemed also in a thoughtful mood; and so the two sat quietly in the soft twilight8 till the red glow faded in the west, and left in its stead a single star, gleaming like a living jewel in the purple sky. All the birds were asleep save the untiring whippoorwill, who presented his plea for the castigation9 of the unhappy William with ceaseless energy. A little night-breeze came up, and said pleasant, soft things to the leaves, which rustled10 gently in reply, and the crickets gave their usual evening concert, beginning with a movement in G sharp, allegro12 con11 moto. Other sound there was none, until by and by the noise of wheels was heard, and the click of old Nancy's hoofs13; and out of the gathering14 darkness Farmer Hartley appeared, just returned from the village, whither he had gone to make arrangements about selling his hay.
"Wal, Marm Lucy," he said, cheerfully, throwing the reins15 on Nancy's neck and jumping from the wagon16, "is that you settin' thar? 'Pears to me I see somethin' like a white apun gloomin' out o' the dark."
"Yes, Jacob," answered "Marm Lucy," "I am here, and so is Hilda. The evening has been so lovely, we have not had the heart to light the lamps, but have just been sitting here watching the sunset. We'll come in now, though," she added, leading the way into the house. "You'll be wanting some supper, my man. Or did ye stop at Cousin Sarah's?"
"I stopped at Sary's," replied the farmer. "Ho! ho! yes, Sary gave me some supper, though she warn't in no mood for seein' comp'ny, even her own kin17. Poor Sary! she was in a dretful takin', sure enough!"
"Why, what was the matter?" asked Dame Hartley, as she trimmed and lighted the great lamp, and drew the short curtains of Turkey red cotton across the windows. "Is Abner sick again!"
"Shouldn't wonder if he was, by this time," replied the farmer; "but he warn't at the beginnin' of it. I'll tell ye how 'twas;" and he sat down in his great leather chair, and stretched his legs out comfortably before him, while his wife filled his pipe and brought it to him,—a little attention which she never forgot. "Sary, she bought a new bunnit yisterday!" Farmer Hartley continued, puffing18 away at the pipe. "She's kind o' savin', ye know, Sary is [Nurse Lucy nodded, with a knowing air], and she hadn't had a new bunnit for ten years. (I d' 'no' 's she's had one for twenty!" he added in parenthesis19; "I never seed her with one to my knowledge.) Wal, the gals20 was pesterin' her, an' sayin' she didn't look fit to go to meetin' in the old bunnit, so 't last she giv' way, and went an' bought a new one. 'Twas one o' these newfangled shapes. What was it Lizy called it? Somethin' Chinese, I reckon. Fan Song! That was it!"
"Fanchon, wasn't it, perhaps?" asked Hilda, much amused.
"That's what I said, warn't it?" said the farmer. "Fan Song, Fan Chong,—wal, what's the odds21? 'Twas a queer lookin' thing, anyhow, I sh'd think, even afore it— Wal, I'm comin' to that. Sary showed it to the gals, and they liked it fust-rate; then she laid it on the kitchen table, an' went upstairs to git some ribbons an' stuff to put on it. She rummaged22 round consid'able upstairs, an' when she kum down, lo and behold23, the bunnit was gone! Wal, Sary hunted high, and she hunted low. She called the gals, thinkin' they'd played a trick on her, an' hidden it for fun. But they hadn't, an' they all set to an' sarched the house from garrit to cellar; but they didn't find hide nor hair o' that bunnit. At last Sary give it up, an' sot down out o' breath, an' mad enough to eat somebody. 'It's been stole!' says she. 'Some ornery critter kem along while I was upstairs,' says she, 'an' seed it lyin' thar on the table, an' kerried it off!' says she. 'I'd like to get hold of her!' says she; 'I guess she wouldn't steal no more bunnits for one while!' says she. I had come in by that time, an' she was tellin' me all about it. Jest at that minute the door opened, and Abner kem sa'nterin' in, mild and moony as usual 'Sary,' says he,—ho! ho! ho! it makes me laugh to think on't,—'Sary,' says he, 'I wouldn't buy no more baskets without handles, ef I was you. They ain't convenient to kerry,' says he. And with that he sets down on the table—that Fan Chong bunnit! He'd been mixin' chicken feed in it, an' he'd held it fust by one side an' then by the other, an' he'd dropped it in the mud too, I reckon, from the looks of it: you never seed sech a lookin' thing in all your born days as that bunnit was. Sary, she looked at it, and then she looked at Abner, an' then at the bunnit agin; an' then she let fly."
"Poor Sarah!" said Nurse Lucy, wiping tears of merriment from her eyes. "What did she say?"
"I can't tell ye what she said," replied the farmer. "What did your old cat say when Spot caught hold of her tail the other day? An' yet there was language enough in what Sary said. I tell ye the hull24 dictionary was flyin' round that room for about ten minutes,—Webster's Unabridged, an' nothin' less. An' Abner, he jest stood thar, bobbin' his head up an' down, and openin' an' shettin' his mouth, as if he'd like to say somethin' if he could get a chance. But when Sary was so out of breath that she couldn't say another word, an' hed to stop for a minute, Abner jest says, 'Sary, I guess you're a little excited. Jacob an' me'll go out an' take a look at the stock,' says he, 'and come back when you're feelin' calmer.' An' he nods to me, an' out we both goes, before Sary could git her breath agin. I didn't say nothin', 'cause I was laughin' so inside 't I couldn't. Abner, he walked along kind o' solemn, shakin' his head every little while, an' openin' an' shettin' his mouth. When we got to the stable-door he looked at me a minute, and then he said, 'The tongue is a onruly member, Jacob! I thought that was kind of a curus lookin' basket, though!' and that was every word he said about it."
"Oh, what delightfully25 funny people!" cried Hilda. "What did the wife say when you came in to supper, Farmer Hartley?"
"She warn't thar," replied the farmer. "She had a headache, the gals said, and had gone to bed. I sh'd think she would have had a headache,—but thar," he added, rising suddenly and beginning to search in his capacious pockets, "I declar' for 't, if I hain't forgotten Huldy's letter! Sary an' her bunnit put everything else out of my head."
Hilda sprang up in delight to receive the envelope which the farmer handed to her; but her face fell a little when she saw that it was not from her parents. She reflected, however, that she had had a double letter only two days before, and that she could not expect another for a week, as Mr. and Mrs. Graham wrote always with military punctuality. There was no doubt as to the authorship of the letter. The delicate pointed26 handwriting, the tiny seal of gilded27 wax, the faint perfume which the missive exhaled28, all said to her at once, "Madge Everton."
With a feeling which, if not quite reluctance29, was still not quite alacrity30, Hildegarde broke the pretty seal, with its Cupid holding a rose to his lips, and read as follows:—
Saratoga, July 20.
My dearest, sweetest Hilda,—Can it be possible that you have been away a whole month, and that I have not written to you? I am awfully31 ashamed! but I have been so too busy, it has been out of the question. Papa decided32 quite suddenly to come here instead of going to Long Branch; and you can imagine the frantic33 amount of work Mamma and I had to get ready. One has to dress so much at Saratoga, you know; and we cannot just send an order to Paris, as you do, my dear Queen, for all we want, but have to scratch round (I know you don't allow your subjects to use slang, but we do scratch round, and nothing else can express it), and get things made here. I have a lovely pale blue Henrietta-cloth, made like that rose-colored gown of yours that I admire so much, and that you said I might copy. Mamma says it was awfully good of you, and that she wouldn't let any one copy her French dresses if she had them; but I told her you were awfully good, and that was why. Well, then I have a white nun's-veiling, made with triple box-plaits, and a lovely pointed overskirt, copied from a Donovan dress of Mamma's; and a dark-red surah, and oh! a perfect "frou-frou" of wash-dresses, of course; two sweet white lawns, one trimmed with valenciennes (I hate valenciennes, you know, but Mamma will make me have it, because she thinks it is jeune fille!), and one with the new Russian lace; and a pink sateen, and two or three light chambrays.
But now I know you will be dying to hear about my hats; for you always say that the hat makes the costume; and so it does! Well, my dearest, I have one Redfern hat, and only one. Mamma says I cannot expect to have more until I come out, which is bitter. However, this one is a beauty, and yet cost only thirty dollars. It goes well with nearly all my dresses, and is immensely becoming, all the girls say: very high, with long pointed wings and stiff bows. Simple, my dear, doesn't express it! You know I love simplicity34; but it is Redferny to a degree, and everybody has noticed it.
Well, my dearest Queen, here am I running on about myself, as if I were not actually expiring to hear about you. What my feelings were when I called at your house on that fatal Tuesday and was told that you had gone to spend the summer on a farm in the depths of the country, passes my power to tell. I could not ask your mother many questions, for you know I am always a little bit afraid of her, though she is perfectly35 lovely to me! She was very quiet and sweet, as usual, and spoke36 as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a brilliant society girl (for that is what you are, Hilda, even though you are only a school-girl; and you never can be anything else!) to spend her summer in a wretched farm-house, among pigs and cows and dreadful ignorant people. Of course, Hilda dearest, you know that my admiration37 for your mother is simply immense, and that I would not for worlds say one syllable38 against her judgment39 and that of your military angel of a father; but I must say it seemed to me more than strange. I assure you I hardly closed my eyes for several nights, thinking of the misery40 you must be undergoing; for I know you, Hildegarde! and the thought of my proud, fastidious, high-bred Queen being condemned41 to associate with clowns and laborers42 was really more than I could bear. Do write to me, darling, and tell me how you are enduring it. You were always so sensitive; why, I can see your lip curl now, when any of the girls did anything that was not tout43 à fait comme il faut! and the air with which you used to say, "The little things, my dear, are the only things!" How true it is! I feel it more and more every day. So do write at once, and let me know all about your dear self. I picture you to myself sometimes, pale and thin, with the "white disdain44" that some poet or other speaks of, in your face, but enduring all the horrors that you must be subjected to with your own dignity. Dearest Hilda, you are indeed a heroine!
Always, darling,
Madge.
Hildegarde looked up after reading this letter, and, curiously46 enough, her eyes fell directly on a little mirror which hung on the wall opposite. In it she saw a rosy47, laughing face, which smiled back mischievously48 at her. There were dimples in the cheeks, and the gray eyes were fairly dancing with life and joyousness49. Where was the "white disdain," the dignity, the pallor and emaciation50? Could this be Madge's Queen Hildegarde? Or rather, thought the girl, with a sudden revulsion of feeling, could this Hildegarde ever have been the other? The form of "the minx," long since dissociated from her thoughts and life, seemed to rise, like Banquo's ghost, and stare at her with cold, disdainful eyes and supercilious51 curl of the lip. Oh dear! how dreadful it was to have been so odious52! How could poor dear Papa and Mamma, bless them, have endured her as they did, so patiently and sweetly? But they should see when they came back! She had only just begun yet; but there were two months still before her, and in that time what could she not do? They should be surprised, those dear parents! And Madge—why, Madge would be surprised too. Poor Madge! To think of her in Saratoga, prinking and preening53 herself like a gay bird, in the midst of a whirl of dress and diamonds and gayety, with no fields, no woods, no glen, no—no kitchen! Hilda looked about the room which she had learned so to love, trying to fancy Madge Everton in it; remembering, too, the bitterness of her first feeling about it. The lamplight shone cheerily on the yellow painted walls, the shining floor, the gleaming brass54, copper55, and china. It lighted up the red curtains and made a halo round good Nurse Lucy's head as she bent56 over her sewing; it played on the farmer's silver-bowed spectacles as he pored with knitted brows and earnest look over the weekly paper which he had brought from the village. The good, kind farmer! Hilda gazed at him as he sat all unconscious, and wondered why she had not seen at once how handsome he really was. The broad forehead, with its deep, thoughtful furrows57; the keen, yet kindly58 blue eyes; the "sable-silvered" hair and beard, which, if not exactly smooth, were still so picturesque59, so leonine; the firm, perhaps obstinate60, mouth, which could speak so wisely and smile so cordially,—all these combined to make up what the newspapers would call a "singularly attractive exterior61." And "Oh! how good he has been to me!" thought Hilda. "I believe he is the best man in the world, next to papa." Then she thought of Madge again, and tried to fancy her in her Redfern hat,—pretty Madge, with her black eyes and curly fringe, under the "simplicity" of the heaven-aspiring wings and bows; and as she smiled at the image, there rose beside it the fair head of Pink Chirk, looking out like a white rose from the depths of her dingy62 straw tunnel. Then she fancied herself saying airily (she knew just how she used to say it), "The little things, my dear, are the only things!" and then she laughed aloud at the very funniness of it.
"Hut! tut!" said Farmer Hartley, looking up from his paper with a smile. "What's all this? Are ye keepin' all the jokes to yerself, Huldy?"
"It is only my letter that is so funny," replied Hilda. "I don't believe it would seem so funny to you, Farmer Hartley, because you don't know the writer. But have you finished your paper, and are you ready for Robin63 Hood64?"
"Wal, I am, Huldy!" said the good farmer, laying aside his paper and rubbing his hands with an air of pleasurable anticipation65. "'Pears to me we left that good-lookin' singin' chap—what was his name?"
"Allan-a-Dale!" said Hilda, smiling.
"Oh, but it comes out all right!" cried Hilda, joyously67, rising to fetch the good brown book which she loved. "You will see in the next chapter how delightfully Robin gets him out of the difficulty." She ran and brought the book and drew her chair up to the table, and all three prepared for an hour of solid enjoyment68. "But before I begin," she said, "I want you to promise, Farmer Hartley, to take me with you the next time you go to the village. I must buy a hat for Pink Chirk."
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1
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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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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dame
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| n.女士 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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fend
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| v.照料（自己），（自己）谋生，挡开，避开 | |
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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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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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castigation
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| n.申斥，强烈反对 | |
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rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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allegro
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| adj. 快速而活泼的；n.快板；adv.活泼地 | |
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13
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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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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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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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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parenthesis
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| n.圆括号，插入语，插曲，间歇，停歇 | |
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gals
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| abbr.gallons （复数）加仑（液量单位）n.女孩，少女( gal的名词复数 ) | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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exhaled
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| v.呼出，发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 )；吐出（肺中的空气、烟等），呼气 | |
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reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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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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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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43
tout
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| v.推销，招徕；兜售；吹捧，劝诱 | |
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disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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45
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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46
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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47
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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mischievously
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| adv.有害地；淘气地 | |
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49
joyousness
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| 快乐，使人喜悦 | |
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50
emaciation
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| n.消瘦，憔悴，衰弱 | |
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51
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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52
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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53
preening
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| v.（鸟）用嘴整理（羽毛）( preen的现在分词 ) | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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55
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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56
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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57
furrows
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| n.犁沟( furrow的名词复数 )；（脸上的）皱纹v.犁田，开沟( furrow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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58
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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59
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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60
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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61
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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62
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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63
robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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64
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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65
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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66
ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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67
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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68
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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