They had supper at six o'clock in the big dining-room. The sun was not yet down, and through the open windows and door John looked out on a small but orderly arranged flower-garden upon which the slanting1 rays of the sun rested. Whaley sat at the head of the table, his wife at the foot. Tilly was not in sight. She was in the adjoining kitchen, and as he sat with his wrinkled hands crossed over his down-turned plate, her father suddenly called out to her.
"Tilly," he cried, "come set down till the blessing2 is asked, and then you can bring the things in."
Her face flushed as from the heat of the stove, the girl came in and slipped demurely3 into a chair opposite John and next to Cavanaugh. John had never gone through such an ordeal4 before, and he felt awkward. He noticed that all the others had lowered their heads, and he did likewise, though he had a certain rebellious5 feeling against it.
"I don't know what you have been accustomed to," Whaley suddenly said, looking at Cavanaugh, "but I have always held, as a principle, that the head of a house ought to ask the blessing on it; so you will understand, sir, that in failing to call on you I mean no disrespect."
"Oh, not at all," the contractor6 mumbled7. "I think you are right about that. I always do it at home. Of course, if there is an ordained8 minister on hand, I ask him, but otherwise I don't."[Pg 37]
"Well, I don't even in that case," Whaley answered, crustily. "I've always made it a rule, and I stick to it." Then he cleared his throat, lowered his head again, and prayed aloud at some length. John could not have recalled afterward9 what it was that he had said, for the most of the words used were unusual and high-sounding.
The prayer was no sooner ended than Tilly rose and hastened from the room. She came back almost instantly with a great platter of fried ham and eggs and a plate of steaming biscuits, and began to pass them around.
"What is the matter with your hand, Tilly?" her mother asked, and John, who was helping10 himself from the dish the girl was offering him, noted11 that a red welt lay across the back of one of her small hands.
"I burnt it getting the biscuits out," Tilly answered, almost beneath her breath.
"How foolish!" her mother retorted. "You are getting more and more careless. Bring in the coffee next. I want to be pouring it out. Most folks like to start a meal that way."
Tilly disappeared and returned with the coffee-pot. Somehow John, as he ate his supper, found himself thinking of the painful burn on Tilly's hand, and was oblivious12 of the conversation regarding religious matters between Cavanaugh and Whaley and his wife.
"Now, come set down and eat your supper," Mrs. Whaley said to her daughter, and Tilly took the chair she had occupied while grace was being said. She kept her eyes downcast, and John noticed her long, slightly curled lashes13 as they rested on her flushed cheeks and her pretty, tapering14 hands. She said nothing during the entire meal.
When supper was over, Whaley led the two men into the parlor15 and lighted an oil-lamp which stood on the mantel-piece,[Pg 38] for it was growing dark. They had seated themselves when Whaley rose and took a song-book from the cottage organ and extended it to Cavanaugh.
"I don't think so," the contractor answered, inspecting it.
"Well, it is by all odds19 the best all-round collection I've ever run across," Whaley said. "Tilly plays all of 'em pretty well, and we have a regular song-service here whenever we feel like it. Do you sing, Mr.—Mr. Trott?"
"No, sir," John replied. "I have no turn that way."
"Well, maybe you'll get the hang of it while you are here," Whaley smiled coldly. "I don't believe there is any way in the world that a man can get to God quicker, straighter, or closer than in sacred song. I've seen a congregation stand out against the finest appeal ever made from the stand, and the minute some good singer started a rousing hymn17 they were all ablaze20, like soldiers following fife and drum." Herewith Whaley went to the door and called out:
"Amelia, let the dishes rest and you and Tilly come in. We want some music."
"Good! Good!" Cavanaugh chimed in, rubbing his hands. "We are in luck, John. If there is anything on earth I like after a hearty21 meal it is hymn-singing. It takes me back to the good old camp-meeting days when everybody, young and old, sang, and even shouted when the spirit was on them."
Tilly and her mother came in. The girl went to the organ on which her father was placing the lamp, and sat on the stool. The light fell on her face and John, sitting against the wall on her right, had a full view of it and[Pg 39] her graceful22 figure. Her father had opened the song-book and placed it on the music-rack. Her slender fingers rested on the yellow keys; the red welt on her hand showed plainly, and John wondered if it pained her much. There was no way of deciding, for she showed no sign of suffering. She began to pump the organ with her little feet. She drew out the stops and began to play. She did it badly, but there were no expert musical critics in the room. Whaley and his wife stood behind her and both of them sang loudly. Cavanaugh had never heard the song, and so he did not take active part, though John saw him beating time with his finger and now and then contributing a suitable bass23 note. Cavanaugh was delighted with the hymn.
"Why don't you join in, little girl?" he asked, gently, as he beamed on Tilly.
"I can't sing and play at the same time," she explained, modestly, catching24 John's attentive25 stare and avoiding it, her brown lashes flickering26.
They sang some old familiar hymns now, and all three of the singers joined in together.
"I tell you we make a good trio," Whaley exulted27. "You've got a roaring bass, Brother Cavanaugh. We'll surprise the natives some night at prayer-meeting. We'll set to one side like and spring it on 'em all at once."
John felt like an alien in the religious and musical atmosphere and was somewhat irritated by the announcement later from Whaley that he always had a chapter read from the Bible and a prayer before going to bed, and, as he believed in retiring early, he suggested that they have the service over with. Accordingly, he removed the lamp from the organ to the table, and from the sitting-room28 brought a big family Bible. A further surprise[Pg 40] was in store for John, for Whaley placed a chair under the lamplight and called on his daughter to sit in it. He smiled coldly as she obeyed and opened the Bible. "You may think it odd, Brother—er—Cavanaugh—you've got a hard name to remember, sir. I say, you may think it odd for me to call on my daughter to read out loud this way. I admit it isn't the general custom, but, the truth is, I discovered that she'd got the habit of not listening to me while I was reading, or commenting, either. So I made up my mind that I'd have her do the reading herself. It has worked pretty well. She is in my Bible-class, and now answers as many questions right as any of the rest, no matter the age or the education."
Tilly was blushing as she lowered her head over the big tome with its brass29 corners and clasps, and John was sorry for her. A storm of rage against her father ran through him. This was dispelled30 quickly, however, for when the girl began to read in her clear and sweetly modulated31 voice he sat transfixed by the sheer charm and music of the delivery. Her neck was bare, and he saw her white throat throbbing32 like that of a warbling bird. He did not grasp the full sense of what she read, for some of the words were unusual to him. Had she been reading in a foreign tongue, it would have been no more marvelous to him. Her flush had died down; her eyes rested unperturbed on the page; one little hand curved around a corner of the big book; the fingers of its mate held a leaf ready to be turned. The lamplight fell into the brown mass of hair that crowned her well-poised head like a halo. Her long lashes seemed mystic films through which he glimpsed her eyes. Looking across the room, he saw Cavanaugh, his rough fingers interlocked over his knee, staring steadily33 at the reader. Was it imagination[Pg 41] or were the old man's eyes actually moist? They seemed to glitter in the light.
Tilly finished the chapter and slowly closed the book, fastening the clasps carefully. She raised her eyes to John's face and quickly, almost guiltily, looked away. Her father had risen and stood holding the back part of his chair with his two hands.
"Now we'll kneel down and pray," he said. "Brother—er—er—Cavanaugh, I don't know what your habit or turn is, but I'm going to ask you to lead if you feel so inclined."
Cavanaugh was rising. "I make a poor out," he said, "but I'll do my best. I—I don't often refuse when called on." He was looking at John almost appealingly. "I—I regard it as a duty to—to my religion and membership."
The strange, alien feeling swept over John again. He had never heard his jovial34 associate pray, though he had been told that Cavanaugh did so now and then; besides, John felt as if he were being personally imposed upon. He was not religious; he had never even been to church, and here he was expected to kneel down with the others. Whaley and his wife knelt side by side, the worn bottoms of their coarse shoes standing35 steadily, their heels upward. As John knelt he felt the uneven36 planks37 of the floor press into his knees unpleasantly, and he moved them for a more comfortable spot. He had an impulse to laugh over his own predicament, but checked it, for, glancing to his right, he saw Tilly bent38 over her crude split-bottom chair like a wilted39 human flower. She looked so weary and so utterly40 helpless, and yet so brave and patient. As he feasted on her sweet profile he wondered if she, like himself, were thinking of other things than the ceremony at hand. He could not decide. Surely, he thought, she could not be so silly, with that broad brow and those[Pg 42] discerning eyes, as to believe that there was an invisible being away off somewhere who was now listening to what Cavanaugh was saying in his faltering41, singsong tone. Somehow he expected absolute truthfulness42 to be found in the girl. As for the others, they knew what they claimed was untrue. They—even Cavanaugh—were hypocrites, and in their secret souls they knew it.
Cavanaugh's prayer was labored—it did not flow as from the tongue of a man who loves the sound of his own mouthing—and it was soon ended. Whaley's smug omission43 of any comment on it showed the farmer's estimate of its value or lack of value in any religious campaign.
Now that they were all standing, John found himself near Tilly. He felt that he was expected to say something, for she had raised a dubious44 glance to his face, but his tongue was tied. How could he speak there under such circumstances when he had never met a girl of her sort on any terms of social equality? He grew hot from head to foot. In kneeling his trousers had caught a white thread from the floor. He saw it and bent to remove it. It was too delicate for his thick, brick-worn fingers to grasp, and he stood awkwardly trying, now to lift it, again to brush it off. He failed, and then he forgot and swore softly. Tilly may not have heard the oath, but something excited her mirth and she smiled—smiled straight into his eyes. He smiled in return, for he had never seen such a smile as hers before. In rippling45 streams of delight it seemed to go through his whole being. He saw her pretty hand start down toward the thread and then check itself as she noticed her mother looking at her. It was as if she had started to remove the thread herself and decided46 that the act would invoke47 criticism from her elders as a thing too forward for a girl to do.[Pg 43]
With a laugh that was bold now in its sheer merriment John took out his pocket-knife, opened the blade, and managed to pick up the thread.
"Well, I reckon you are both tired and we are early to bed and early to rise here," Whaley was saying. "You both know the way up-stairs."
There were no formal good-nights exchanged. The Whaleys withdrew to their rooms on the ground floor and John and Cavanaugh went up the stairs. John thought Cavanaugh would go straight into his room, but he followed him into his and helped him find and light his lamp.
"I want to tell you something, my boy," he began, his eyes shifting back and forth48 from John's face to the jagged flame of the small lamp. "I want to get something out of me and be done with it. I made a regular fool of myself there to-night."
"I don't understand," John said, in surprise.
"Well, I did," Cavanaugh went on, flushed, and in a voice that shook a little. "That prayer of mine was the worst mixed-up mess I ever got off. You see, I never have talked much religion to you boys down home, and as far as I know none of you ever heard me pray out loud in public. Well, I—somehow when I got down to-night I just got to thinking about what you thought—you see, I've heard you sneer49 at the belief I hold in common with many others, and somehow to-night—well, I found that I was thinking more about what you thought of me than what I was prepared to say, and so I balled it all up. I can do first-rate in meeting at home, but I slid from it to-night. Why, I almost heard Brother Whaley grunt50 when I suddenly forgot what I started to say and switched off to something else. Oh, I made a fool of myself! Now, really didn't you think so?"[Pg 44]
"I didn't hear what you were saying," John answered. "I wouldn't care if I was you."
"Well, I do care," Cavanaugh muttered. "If ever a man insulted his God, I did mine to-night. I was reeling off a lot o' stuff, but not one word of it was from the heart, and a prayer that don't come from the heart ain't worth shucks. Mine wasn't much more than a song and dance before the Throne, and I'm ashamed of it."
"I wouldn't care," John repeated, still absently.
"Well, I don't know as I do care much about what that old hard-shell codger, or his wife that is just like him, thinks, but I do for that little girl. My Lord! ain't she sweet?"
John stared straight and warmly, but said nothing. He was conscious of the intensest interest and that he was trying not to show it.
Cavanaugh stood slowly shaking his head in the negative way that implies affirmation. "Yes, yes, she is a wonderful, wonderful little trick. While she was reading there to-night I seemed to be listening to the voice of an angel that had just come from behind the clouds. I was shedding tears of joy from every pore of my old body. I could have taken her in my arms and cried my heart out. That is why I wish I could have done better in my prayer. What she read was from her soul. 'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want!' I'll never to my dying day forget them words, and the sweet twist she gave to them. I never had a child, John, and if I could have had one like her, I—I— And just think of it! They make her work like a slave, even with her little hand blistered51 like it was to-night! Old Whaley thinks he walks side by side with God in all his rules and regulations, but his child is one of God's own glories, and don't you forget it."[Pg 45]
Turning suddenly, as if overcome with emotion, Cavanaugh stalked out through the door and crossed the passage into his own room. As John undressed he heard the old man's heavy tread on the floor. A window was raised. There was sudden silence. Cavanaugh was looking out into the starlight.
John was tired, but he remained awake till near midnight. Fancies filled his mind which he had never had before. Why did he think so often of the bride and bridegroom he had seen on the train that morning?
"It is ahead of you, too, my boy," Cavanaugh's words rang in his ears. Could such a thing be for him, really for him? How could it be? He had given no thought to women. He had never dreamed of marriage, but to-night the sheer idea of it was fairly tearing his being to shreds52, and the flame of the impulse had risen in the face of a girl—a poor, abused, misunderstood girl. The world lay before him. He would rise in his trade, and earn money which he would lavish53 on the little filial slave he already adored.
He slept and dreamed that he heard Cavanaugh saying: "It is the cottage of delight, my boy, and it is for you and her—for you and her. Don't forget, for you and her!"
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收听单词发音
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1
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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2
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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contractor
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| n.订约人，承包人，收缩肌 | |
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7
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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9
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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13
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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14
tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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15
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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16
revival
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| n.复兴，复苏，（精力、活力等的）重振 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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19
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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ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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21
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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29
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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30
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31
modulated
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| 已调整[制]的，被调的 | |
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32
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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33
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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35
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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uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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38
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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39
wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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41
faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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42
truthfulness
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| n. 符合实际 | |
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43
omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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44
dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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45
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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46
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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47
invoke
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| v.求助于(神、法律)；恳求，乞求 | |
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48
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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49
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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50
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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51
blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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52
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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53
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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