We must now return for a brief space to Morley Court. The apartment which lay beneath what had been Sir Richard Ashwoode's bed-chamber2, and in which Mary and her gay cousin, Emily Copland, had been wont3 to sit and work, and read and sing together, had grown to be considered, by long-established usage, the rightful and exclusive property of the ladies of the family, and had been surrendered up to their private occupation and absolute control. Around it stood full many a quaint4 cabinet of dark old wood, shining like polished jet, little bookcases, and tall old screens, and music stands, and drawing tables. These, along with a spinet5 and a guitar, and countless6 other quaint and pretty sundries indicating the habitual7 presence of feminine refinement8 and taste, abundantly furnished the chamber. In the window stood some choice and fragrant9 flowers, and the light fell softly upon the carpet through the clustering bowers10 of creeping plants which mantled11 the outer wall, in sombre rivalry12 of the full damask curtains, whose draperies hung around the deep receding13 casements14.
Here sat Mary Ashwoode, as the evening, whose tragic15 events we have in our last chapter described, began to close over the old manor16 of Morley Court. Her embroidery17 had been thrown aside, and lay upon the table, and a book, which she had been reading, was open before her; but her eyes now looked pensively18 through the window upon the fair, sad landscape, clothed in the warm and melancholy19 tints20 of evening. Her graceful21 arm leaned upon the table, and her small, white hand supported her head and mingled22 in the waving tresses of her dark hair.
"At what hour did my brother promise to return?" said she, addressing herself to her maid, who was listlessly arranging some books in the little book-case.
"Well, I declare and purtest, I can't rightly remember," rejoined the maid, cocking her head on one side reflectively, and tapping her eyebrow23 to assist her recollection. "I don't think, my lady, he named any hour precisely24; but at any rate, you may be sure he'll not be long away now."
"I thought he said seven o'clock," continued Mary; "would he were come! I feel very solitary25 to-day; and this evening we might pass happily together, for that strange man will not return to-night—he said so—my brother told me so."
"I believe Mr. Blarden changed his mind, my lady," said the maid; "for I know he gave orders before he went for a fire in his room to-night."
"Harry27, Harry, I am so glad to see you," said she, running lightly to him and throwing her arms around his neck. "Come, come, sit you down beside me; we shall be happy together at least for this evening. Come, Harry, come."
So saying she led him, passive and gloomy, to the fireside, and drew a chair beside that into which he had thrown himself.
"Dear brother, the time seemed so very tedious to-day while you were away," said she. "I thought it would never pass. Why are you so silent and thoughtful, brother? has anything happened to vex28 you?"
"Nothing," said he, glancing at her with a strange expression—"nothing to vex me—no, nothing—perhaps the contrary."
"Dear brother, have you heard good news? Come and tell me," said she; "though I fear from the sadness of your face you do but flatter me. Have you, Harry—have you heard or seen anything that gave you comfort?"
"No, not comfort; I know not what I say. Have you any wine here?" said Ashwoode, hurriedly; "I am tired and thirsty."
"No, not here," answered she, somewhat surprised at the oddity of the question, as well as by the abruptness29 and abstraction of his manner.
"Carey," said he, "run down—bring wine quickly; I'm exhausted—quite wearied. I have played more at bowls this afternoon than I've done for years," he added, addressing his sister as the maid departed on her errand.
"You do look very pale, brother," said she, "and your dress is all disordered; and, gracious God!—see all the ruffles of this hand are steeped in blood—brother, brother, for God's sake—are you hurt?"
"Hurt—I—?" said he hastily, and endeavouring to smile! "no, indeed—I hurt! far be it from me—this blood is none of mine; one of our party scratched his hand, and I bound his handkerchief round the wound, and in so doing contracted these tragic spots that startle you so. No, no, believe me, when I am hurt I will make no secret of it. Carey, pour some wine into that glass—fill it—fill it, child—there," and he drank it off—"fill it again—so two or three more, and I shall be quite myself again. How snug30 this room of yours is, Mary."
"Yes, brother, I am very fond of it; it is a pleasant old room, and one that has often seen me happier than I shall be again," said she, with a sigh; "but do you feel better? has the wine refreshed you? You still look pale," she added, with fears not yet half quieted.
"Yes, Mary, I am refreshed," he said, with a sudden and reckless burst of strange merriment that shocked her; "I could play the match through again—I could leap, and laugh and sing;" and then he added quickly in an altered voice—"has Blarden returned?"
"No," said she; "I thought you said he would remain in town to-night."
"I said wrong if I said so at all," replied Ashwoode; "and if he did intend to stay in town he has changed his plans—he will be here this evening; I thought I should have found him here on my return; I expect him every moment."
"When, dear brother, is this visit of his to end?" asked the girl imploringly31.
"Not for weeks—for months, I hope," replied Ashwoode drily and quickly; "why do you inquire, pray?"
"Simply because I wish it were ended, brother," answered she sadly; "but if it vexes32 you I will ask no more."
"It does vex me, then," said Ashwoode, sternly; "it does, and you know it"—he accompanied these words with a look even more savage33 than the tone in which he had uttered them, and a silence of some minutes followed.
Ashwoode desired nothing so much as to speak with his sister intelligibly34 upon the subject of Blarden's designs, and of his own entire approval of them; but, somehow, often as he had resolved upon it, he had never yet approached the topic, even in imagination, in his sister's presence, without feeling himself unnerved and abashed35. He now strove to fret36 himself into a rage, in the instinctive37 hope that under the influence of this stimulus38 he might find nerve to broach39 the subject in plain terms; he strode quickly to and fro across the floor, casting from time to time many an angry glance at the poor girl, and seeking by every mechanical agency to work himself into a passion.
"And so it is come to this at last," said he, vehemently40, "that I may not invite my friends to my own house; or that if I dare to do so, they shall necessarily be exposed to the constant contempt and rudeness of those who ought to be their entertainers; all their advances towards acquaintance met with a hoity-toity, repulsive41 impertinence, and themselves treated with a marked and insulting avoidance, shunned42 as though they had the plague. I tell you now plainly, once for all, I will be master in my own house; you shall treat my guests with attention and respect; you must do so; I command you; you shall find that I am master here."
"No doubt of it, by ——," ejaculated Nicholas Blarden, himself entering the room at the termination of Ashwoode's stormy harangue43; "but where the devil is the good of roaring that way? your sister is not deaf, I suppose? Mistress Mary, your most obedient——"
Mary did not wait for further conference; but rising with a proud mien44 and a burning cheek, she left the room and went quickly to her own chamber, where she threw herself into a chair, covered her eyes with her hands, and burst into an agony of weeping.
"Well, but she is a fine wench," cried Nicholas Blarden, as soon as she had disappeared. "The tantarums become her better than good humour;" so saying, he half filled Ashwoode's glass with wine, and rinsed45 it into the fireplace; then coolly filled a bumper46 and quaffed47 it off, and then another and another.
"Sit down here and listen to me," said he to Ashwoode, in that insolent48, domineering tone which he so loved to employ in accosting49 him, "sit down here, I say, young man, and listen to me while I give you a bit of my mind."
Ashwoode, who knew too well the consequences of even murmuring under the tyranny of his task-master, in silence did as he was commanded.
"I tell you what it is," said Blarden, "I don't like the way this affair is going on; the girl avoids me; I don't know her, by ——, a curse better to-day than I did the first day I came into the house; this won't do, you know; it will never do; you had better strike out some expeditious50 plan, or it's very possible I may tire of the whole concern and cut it back, do you mind; you had better sharpen your wits, my fine fellow."
"The fault is your own," said Ashwoode gloomily; "if you desire expedition, you can command it, by yourself speaking to her; you have not as yet even hinted at your intentions, nor by any one act made her acquainted with your designs; let her see that you like her; let her understand you; you have never done so yet."
"She's infernally proud," said Blarden, "just as proud as yourself: but we know a knack51, don't we, for bringing pride to its senses? Eh? Nothing, I believe, Sir Henry, like fear in such cases; don't you think so? I've known it succeed sometimes to a miracle—fear of one kind or another is the only way we have of working men or women. Mind I tell you she must be frightened, and well frightened too, or she'll run rusty52. I have a knack with me—a kind of gift—of frightening people when I have a fancy; and if you're in earnest, as I guess you pretty well are, between us we'll tame her."
"It were not advisable to proceed at once to extremities," said Ashwoode, who, spite of his constitutional selfishness, felt some odd sensations, and not of the pleasantest kind, while they thus conversed53. "You must begin by showing your wishes in your manner; be attentive54 to her; and, in short, let her unequivocally see the nature of your intentions; tell her that you want to marry her; and when she refuses, then it is time enough to commence those—those—other operations at which you hint."
"Well, d——n me, but there is some sense in what you say," observed Blarden, filling his glass again. "Umph! perhaps I've been rather backward; I believe I have; she's coy, shy, and a proud little baggage withal—I like her the better for it—and requires a lot of wooing before she's won; well, I'll make myself clear on to-morrow. I'm blessed if she sha'n't understand me beyond the possibility of question or doubt; and if she won't listen to reason, then we'll see whether there isn't a way to break her spirit if she was as proud as the Queen." With these words Blarden arose and drained the flask55 of wine, then observed authoritatively,—
"Get the cards and follow me to the parlour. I want something to amuse me; be quick, d'ye hear?"
And so saying he took his departure, followed by Sir Henry Ashwoode, whose condition was now more thoroughly56 abject57 and degraded than that of a purchased slave.
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1
ruffles
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| 褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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spinet
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| n.小型立式钢琴 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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bowers
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| n.（女子的）卧室( bower的名词复数 )；船首锚；阴凉处；鞠躬的人 | |
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mantled
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| 披着斗篷的，覆盖着的 | |
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rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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13
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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casements
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| n.窗扉( casement的名词复数 ) | |
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15
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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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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tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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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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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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abruptness
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| n. 突然，唐突 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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vexes
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| v.使烦恼( vex的第三人称单数 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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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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intelligibly
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| adv.可理解地，明了地，清晰地 | |
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abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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broach
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| v.开瓶，提出(题目) | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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shunned
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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harangue
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| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
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mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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45
rinsed
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| 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 | |
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46
bumper
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| n.(汽车上的)保险杠；adj.特大的，丰盛的 | |
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47
quaffed
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| v.痛饮( quaff的过去式和过去分词 )；畅饮；大口大口将…喝干；一饮而尽 | |
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48
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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49
accosting
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的现在分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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50
expeditious
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| adj.迅速的，敏捷的 | |
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51
knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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52
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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53
conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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54
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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55
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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56
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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