Richard Jeffray could not break from the thoughts of Bess that had followed him from out the green glooms of Pevensel. Why, because she had a comely2 body and a comely face, should he be forever recalling the flash of her red-stockinged ankles under her short gown of green, the fine lifting of her handsome head, the way she had of putting her right hand up to her throat and of letting her eyes dwell with strange intentness upon his face? Jeffray was honestly troubled by these haunting thoughts, these visions of passion that flashed on him out of his own heart. Despite his romanticism he did not lack for character and discretion4, and pedagogic reason told him that such dreams were neither obedient to philosophy nor to his loyalty5 to Miss Hardacre.
The news of Jeffray’s misadventure in the woods had been duly carried to Hardacre house; nor was it long before Mr. Lancelot and Miss Jilian rode over to inquire after their dear cousin. Richard was idling in the garden, planning color schemes for the summer, when he heard the clatter6 of hoofs7 coming down the road through the park. Richard recognized Mr. Lot in scarlet8 mounted on a great, rawboned roan, and Miss Jilian beside him in a green riding-habit, a black beaver9 on her auburn hair. Richard crossed the terrace and went down the steps to meet them. His head was still bandaged, a fact that Mr. Lancelot remarked upon with his usual blunt brevity.
“Egad, cousin,” he said, with a laugh, “so the forester broke your pate10 for you, deuce take his insolence11! Ha, Jill, how do you like our Richard in bandages? You should wear a mob-cap, cousin. How’s the dowager? Got over the mumps13 yet?”
Mr. Lot roared over his own facetiousness14, while Richard stood beside Miss Jilian’s gray mare15 and pressed the young lady’s hand.
“I should have been at Hardacre before this,” he said, blushing, “but Surgeon Stott ordered me to bide16 quiet.”
There was a look of delicious anxiety in Miss Hardacre’s eyes.
“Are you sure you ought to be up and about, Richard?” she asked.
“There is nothing much amiss with me,” he answered, looking up at her shyly. “Won’t you dismount and come into the house? I will call Gladden and have your horses taken.”
“Has she got her war-paint on, Richard?”
“Who?”
“Your revered19 relative. I am ready to make peace though she did send me down to supper with the ugliest girl this side of Lewes. It’s uncommon20 hot to-day. What do you say, Jill? Shall we tumble in and have a glass of wine and a chat with the old lady?”
Miss Hardacre simpered, blushed prettily21, and glanced at Richard. The lad read her inclination22 on the instant, and helped her to dismount. She pressed his hand kindly23, her gray eyes holding his a moment with a look that did not lack for eloquence24.
“Hold there; what a deuced ass3 I am,” quoth Mr. Lot, who had rolled out of the saddle and was thumping25 his manly26 chest. “Here’s a certain precious document buttoned up in my breast-pocket. We are giving a masked ball next week at Hardacre. Quite a gorgeous affair, and Sir Peter thought he’d send the dowager a state summons, just to show there is no ill-feeling. Of course you’ll come, cousin.”
Mr. Lot drew a sealed letter from his pocket, and handed it to Richard with a mock bow.
“Let old Gladden give it to her in state,” he said, with a wink18; “it will make a better show on a silver salver.”
“It is very magnanimous of Sir Peter,” he said, warmly, “to let by-gones be by-gones. I am sure Aunt Letitia is sorry for what happened that evening. She asked me, Jilian, to try and persuade you to forgive her.”
“Dear old Mohawk,” he said.
“Of course I will forgive her,” quoth Miss Hardacre, sweetly.
“That’s the game, Jill. These women, Richard, are moral prodigies29. Deuce take me, Jill, you have the temper of an angel. Don’t I know it.”
Miss Hardacre’s gray eyes flashed a curious look at her brother.
Jeffray had rung the stable-bell, and Peter Gladden and a groom31 came out to take the horses. Richard ordered the butler to bring cake and wine into the dining-room, and to send the Lady Letitia’s maid to inform her mistress, who was taking her afternoon nap, that Miss Hardacre was in the house. They went into the porch together and through the hall into the wainscoted dining-room, Miss Jilian holding her riding-skirt daintily in either hand, Mr. Lot swinging his velvet32 cap and whip and grinning affectionately at Richard.
The Lady Letitia appeared in due course, as gracious as could be, decked out in a handsome sack, her hair freshly powdered, her mittens33 on, and her fan swinging at her wrist. She kissed Miss Hardacre on either cheek, squeezed the young lady’s hand, beamed at her nephew, and was very affable to Mr. Lancelot. She had received the invitation to Sir Peter’s ball from Mr. Gladden’s salver, and expressed herself charmed at Sir Peter’s courtesy. After wine had been drunk and cake crumbled34, Richard proposed that they should walk out into the garden. The dowager rang for her black mantilla, requested Mr. Lancelot to honor her with his arm, and led the way through the opening upon the terrace. Jilian and Richard lingered behind the Lady Letitia, Miss Hardacre very coy and ready to blush, Richard feeling with some shame that pretty speeches came less glibly35 from his tongue than they had done of yore.
The sky was a rare blue above the green lawns, the old red walls, and the silvery grass-land of the park. As they walked the box-edged paths betwixt the stately yews37 and hollies38 Miss Jilian began to rally Richard on his adventure in the woods. “How gallant39 and romantic it was, to be sure! Do you think, Richard, that you would have rescued me from some wicked ruffian had your poor cousin been at his mercy?”
Jeffray was convincing in his chivalrous40 protestations.
“Why, Jilian, can you doubt it?”
“Fight for you, Jilian? Why I would defend you with my life.”
“La, Richard,” she exclaimed, blushing, “how brave you are! Tell me, was the girl pretty?”
“Pretty, Jilian?”
“Now, Richard, I am sure she was pretty.”
“Perhaps she was,” said Richard, with studied carelessness. “Were she ugly or otherwise, I only did my duty as a gentleman and a man.”
“You dear lad,” quoth Miss Hardacre, tenderly.
“Jilian!”
“Now don’t pretend you don’t know how brave and noble you are. Ah, Heavens, only to think of it; the wretch42 might have killed you! It makes me shudder43, Richard; it does indeed.”
“And should you have cared, dear cousin?” he asked her.
Miss Hardacre flushed crimson45 and hung her head. How pretty her downcast lashes46 looked as they swept her fair cheeks; what a sweet, sad smile hovered47 about her lips.
“Oh, Richard,” she said, “can you not believe—?”
“I believe all that is good and pure and kind of you, dear cousin.”
“There, sir, there; you are making me blush so that I shall hardly be able to face your aunt. You must not flatter a simple girl so. Ah, Richard,”—and she sighed—“thank Heaven that you are safe and well.”
How could Mr. Jeffray bear himself under such delicate flattery but declare Miss Hardacre to be the kindest and best of women, and to abuse his own foolish heart for dreaming dreams about young ladies with red petticoats and coal-black hair? What a weak creature he was, and what a noble being this cousin of his appeared! He was very tender and attentive48 to Miss Jilian that day, nor did the lady fail to encourage such an admirable display of affection. She flashed shy and melting glances into Mr. Richard’s face, blushed dearly when he spoke49 to her, and was as gentle and as sweet as any convent saint. Jeffray strove to forget poor Bess of the Woods, whose fierce blue eyes blazed out at him continually.
Meanwhile, Aunt Letitia appeared determined50 to erase51 from the minds of the Hardacres the unpleasant memories that her own strategies had created. Her amiability52 puzzled Mr. Lancelot that afternoon as he walked the terrace with her, and looked down upon the lawns and prim53 paths beneath, the statuary shining white amid the yews and cedars54. The old lady’s eyes dwelt often on Richard and Miss Jilian who were drifting to and fro absorbed in their mutual55 confidences. From time to time she would scan the park as though watching for some person to appear. Dick Wilson had gone forth56 sketching57 to study the effects of light and shade upon the distant summits of the “downs.” The Lady Letitia was eagerly expecting the painter’s return. It would be so interesting to watch his introduction to Miss Hardacre.
“Look at those dear innocents,” she said, with a twinkle, to Mr. Lot. “To be frank with you, sir, I was not eager to see my nephew married; early marriages are such lotteries58, Mr. Hardacre. But now that I am beginning to see more of your sweet sister, I must confess that I am becoming converted.”
Lot Hardacre gave the old lady a queer look. He was no fool was Mr. Lot, and he did not trust the dowager with all the manly innocence59 of his fox-hunting heart.
“I observe, madam,” he said, bluntly, “that you are a sportswoman. You don’t mind confessing when you’re off the scent60.”
“The truth, sir, is always easily understood,” quoth the dowager, cheerfully.
“Egad, you’re right, madam.”
“And I shall have much pleasure in attending your father’s ‘rout,’ Mr. Hardacre. Sir Peter has shown a magnanimous spirit; and I trust that a woman of my birth knows how to receive so graceful61 a pardon.”
Mr. Lot grinned. He recalled to mind how his sister had been compelled to weep and threaten hysterics before the baronet could be prevailed upon to include the Rodenham folk among his guests. “Richard was a decent lad, to be sure, but that damned old cat, no, egad, he’d see her hanged before he had her at Hardacre.” It was only after much persuasion62 that Sir Peter had been brought to see that it would be wiser to appease63 the old lady than to tempt64 her malice65.
“The hatchet, sir!”
“You and Sir Peter, madam, had better leave whist alone.”
The old lady chuckled as though Mr. Hardacre had delivered himself of an excellent jest. She wagged her head at him, and gave him an arch smile that carried no malice.
“You are a wicked fellow, sir,” she said, with a pat of the hand. “I can see that you have been laughing all the time at your father and myself. La, Mr. Hardacre, I can take a joke, to be sure. You are a wicked, sly fellow, sir, and you are no fool, I see that clearly enough.”
Much to Aunt Letitia’s chagrin67, Dick Wilson did not return in time that day to be introduced to Miss Jilian Hardacre. She confessed to the young lady that her nephew had a painter friend staying at the priory, a droll68 and charming creature, but the Lady Letitia did not divulge69 the gentleman’s name. Might they bring him to the masked ball at Hardacre? Of course Miss Jilian declared that any friend of her cousin’s would be welcome. And thus Mr. Lot and his sister departed from Rodenham, on the best of terms with Richard Jeffray, and apparently70 reconciled to the Lady Letitia, his aunt. Richard walked with them across the park, and took leave of his sweet cousin with an ardent71 look and a significant pressure of the hand.
As they climbed the road up the long hill towards Pevensel, Miss Jilian looked at her brother with a questioning smile, and remarked on the Lady Letitia’s change of temper.
“Richard must have terrified the poor old woman,” she said. “I should never have thought that the lad had so much spirit in him.”
Mr. Lot thrust out his lower lip and swore.
“Devil take the old cat,” he said; “she is too deuced polite and purry to make me fancy her. Do you think she loves us, Jill? Damme, I’ll wager12 she’d like to slap your face.”
“And yours too, Lot, eh?”
“Cousin Richard’s a little gentleman,” quoth Mr. Hardacre, “though he is a bit of a fool.”
“No, no, Lot, he is too honest, that is all. I like the lad. He has a sweet nature.”
“What I should like to know is,” returned the brother, “what sort of mischief73 that old catamaran is plotting. She’s a regular Jezebel, Jill. Deuce take it, she would cheat Old Nick into believing her an angel, but she won’t cheat me.”
Meanwhile poor Bess, in Pevensel, had already been confronted with Isaac Grimshaw’s authority. She had told old Ursula of the pistols Jeffray had given her, and while the girl was away milking just before sunset, the old lady had crept up the stairs, filched74 away the pistols from the cupboard, and hidden them in the hole under the floor where she kept her guineas. The same evening, as Bess was sitting on the settle before the fire, thinking of Jeffray, her work lying idle in her lap, there came a sudden knocking at the cottage door. Old Ursula jumped up, shot back the bolt, and let in Isaac and his son. She locked the door after them and pocketed the key. Bess, starting up from the settle, became aware instinctively75 that there was some conspiracy76 afoot against herself.
Isaac, glib36 and smiling, thrust Dan forward—Dan, upon whose hairy face there was a suggestive and sheepish grin.
“I be come to claim you, Bess,” he said, shifting his fur cap from hand to hand.
“Claim me!”
“Mr. Isaac has ordered it. You and me are to break a coin together. Come, lass, I’ll be kind and easy with you. Give me a kiss, and let’s call it a bargain.”
Bess, flashing fierce scorn out of her eyes at Dan, turned on Isaac with rebellious77 and glowing face.
Grimshaw smiled at her, rubbed his hands together, and nudged Dan with his elbow. The giant made a step towards Bess, grinning through his beard. In an instant the girl had turned and darted78 towards the stairs, only to find the door closed and old Ursula leaning against it. Trapped, Bess drew herself up and looked at the old woman with wistful anger.
“Are you against me, too, mother?”
Ursula smiled painfully.
“Isaac’s word is law, girl,” she said.
“I’ll not marry Dan, no—I hate him. I’ll not be married against my will.”
She turned and faced old Grimshaw and his son, her eyes fierce as the eyes of some wild thing caught in a snare79.
“Dan,” she cried, “will you marry me? Ha, I hate you; I hate your great, ugly face. Will you marry me, I say? You oaf, you great, black, hairy fool, I hate you. Be careful, all of you. I am not to be bought and sold.”
The three were silent a moment while Bess stood in the centre of the room, passionately80 defiant81, her fists clinched82, her strong chin up. Old Isaac watched her, and still rubbed his hands together. Dan, looking sullen83 and foolish, fidgeted with his cap, and glanced first at Bess and then at his father. Old Ursula had the corner of her apron84 between her teeth. She was wavering betwixt greed and love for Bess, her foster-child.
Isaac gave his son a sudden, fierce glance and a whispered command. Dan edged across the room towards Bess. In a flash she had picked up a heavy stool, and stood at bay behind the table.
“Come at me, Dan,” she cried, “and I’ll kill ye.”
There was a sudden squeak85 from old Ursula. She had flung open the door that closed the stairs, the love in her overmastering the greed for gold.
“Bess,” she squealed86, “quick, lass, the door’s open. Dan, you great coward, back, keep your hands off her. I’ll have no bullying87 in my cottage.”
Bess had flung the stool at Dan, turned and darted towards Ursula. She kissed the beldam, and fled up the stairs, while the old woman closed the door on her and covered it with her body.
“Brother Isaac,” she said, with a certain dignity that became her gray hairs well, “I’ll have no bullying in my cottage. Let Dan win the girl like a man, and not like a coward. You shall not have Bess to-night save over my body.”
Dan slunk back behind his father, who was looking at his sister with a peculiar88 smile. He rubbed his hands together, his white hair falling benignantly about his face.
“There, there, dame,” he said, mildly, “don’t put yourself out about the wench. We mean no harm by her, and she shall not be browbeaten89. Come, son, you must wait and try what patience will do. Good-night, old lady. Bess can go to sleep in peace.”
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1
wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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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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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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pate
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| n.头顶；光顶 | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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mumps
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| n.腮腺炎 | |
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facetiousness
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| n.滑稽 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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revered
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| v.崇敬，尊崇，敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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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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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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sheathed
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| adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的；覆盖的；铠装的；装鞘了的v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prodigies
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| n.奇才，天才（尤指神童）( prodigy的名词复数 ) | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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glib
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| adj.圆滑的，油嘴滑舌的 | |
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yews
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| n.紫杉( yew的名词复数 ) | |
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hollies
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| n.冬青（常绿灌木，叶尖而硬，有光泽，冬季结红色浆果）( holly的名词复数 )；（用作圣诞节饰物的）冬青树枝 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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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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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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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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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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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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erase
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| v.擦掉；消除某事物的痕迹 | |
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amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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53
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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lotteries
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| n.抽彩给奖法( lottery的名词复数 )；碰运气的事；彩票；彩券 | |
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59
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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60
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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appease
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| v.安抚，缓和，平息，满足 | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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66
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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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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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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filched
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| v.偷（尤指小的或不贵重的物品）( filch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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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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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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squealed
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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browbeaten
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| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat的过去分词 ) | |
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