Directly in front of her spread the fragrant9 quadrangle of the garden, the paths, edged with crumbling10 bricks set cantwise in the dark soil, curving and angling between the beds in formal precision. In the centre, out of a tangle11 of rose-bushes and box, the garlanded Cupid, tinged12 to pale gold by the early sunlight, smiled across at her. About him clustered tender blooms of old-fashioned roses, and the path was sprinkled with the fallen petals13. Beyond, the long tunnel between the oleanders was still filled with the lingering shadows of dawn. To right and left of the centre bed lay miniature jungles of overgrown shrubs14; roses, deutzias, cape15 jasmines, Japan quinces, sweet shrubs and all the luxuriant hodge-podge of a Southern garden somewhat run to seed, a little down at the heels maybe, but radiantly beautiful in its very disorder16.
On the far side, the garden was bordered with taller shrubs—crépe-myrtles, mimosas, camelias, which merged8 imperceptibly into the trees of the grove. To the right,[113] beyond the bordering path, a few pear-trees showed their naked branches and a tall frankincense tree threw delicate shadow-tracery over the corner bed. To the left were Japan plums and pomegranates and figs17, half hiding the picket18 fence, and a few youthful orange-trees, descendants of sturdy ancestors who had lost their lives in the freeze three years before. A huge magnolia spread its shapely branches over one of the beds, its trunk encircled by a tempting19 seat. Ribbon-grass swayed gently here and there above the rioting shrubbery, and at the corner of the porch, where a gate gave on to the drive, a clump20 of banana-trees, which had almost but not quite borne fruit that year, reared their succulent green stems in a sunny nook and arched their great broad leaves, torn and ribboned by the winds, with tropical effect. Near at hand, against the warm red chimney, climbed a Baltimore Belle21, festooning the end of the house for yards with its tiny, glossy22 leaves. The shadow of the house cut the garden sharply into[114] two triangles, the dividing line between sunlight and shade crossing the pedestal of the smiling Cupid. Everywhere glistened23 diamonds of dew, and over all, growing more intense each instant as the sunlight and warmth grew in ardor24, was the thrilling fragrance25 of the roses and the box, of damp earth and awakening26 leaves.
While Holly’s mother had lived the garden had been her pride and delight. It had been known to fame all through that part of the State and the beauty of the Wayne roses was a proverb. But now the care of it fell to Uncle Ran, together with the care of a bewildering number of other things, and Uncle Ran had neither the time nor the knowledge to maintain its former perfection. Holly loved it devotedly27, knew it from corner to corner. At an earlier age she had plucked the blossoms for dolls and played with them for long hours on the seat under the magnolia. The full-blown roses were grown-up ladies, with beautiful outspread skirts of pink, white or yellow, and little green waists. The[115] half-opened roses were young ladies, and tiny white violets, or waxen orange-blooms or little blossoms of the deutzia were the babies. For the men, although Holly seldom bothered much with men, there were the jonquils or the oleanders. She knew well where the first blue violets were to be found, where the white jonquils broke first from their green calyces, where the little yellow balls of the opopanax were sweetest, what rose-petals were best adapted to being formed into tiny sacs and exploded against the forehead, and many other wonderful secrets of that fair domain28. But in spite of all this, Holly was no gardener.
She loved flowers just as she loved the deep blue Florida sky with its hazy29 edges, the soft wind from the Gulf30, the golden sunlight, the birds and bees and butterflies—just as she loved everything that was quickened with the wonderful breath of Nature. There was something of the pagan in Holly when it came to devotion to Nature. And yet she had no ability to make things grow. From her mother she[116] had inherited the love of trees and plants and flowers but not the gift of understanding them. Doubtless the Druids, with all their veneration31 for the oak and mistletoe, would have been sorely puzzled had they had to rear their leafy temples from planted acorns32.
Holly went down the steps and, holding her gown away from the moisture-beaded branches, buried her face in a cluster of pink roses. Then, struck by a thought, she returned to the house, reappearing a moment later with her hands encased in a pair of old gloves, and carrying scissors.
Aunt India didn’t believe in bringing flowers into the house. “If the Lord had intended us to have them on the tables and mantels,” she said, “He’d have put them[117] there. But He didn’t; He meant them to be out of doors and we ought to be satisfied to admire them where He’s put them.” Usually Holly respected her Aunt’s prejudice, but to-day seemed in a way a special occasion. The Cloth of Gold roses seemed crying to be gathered, and their stems snipped33 gratefully under the scissors as she made her way along the edge of the bed. Her hands were almost full of the big yellow blooms when footsteps sounded on the porch and she glanced up to see Winthrop descending34 the steps. She wondered with sudden dismay whether she was going to blush as she had yesterday, and, for fear that she was, leaned far over the refractory35 cluster she was cutting. Winthrop’s footsteps approached along the sandy walk, and—
“Good-morning, Miss Holly,” he said.
“Good-morning,” answered Holly, and, having won her prize started to straighten up. “I hope——”
But instead of finishing the polite inquiry36 she said “Oh!” A branch of the rose-bush had caught in her hair, and the more she tugged37 the more firmly it held.
“Still a moment,” said Winthrop. He leaned over and disentangled the thorns. “There you are. I hope I didn’t pull very hard?”
“Thank you,” murmured Holly, raising a very red face. Winthrop, looking down into it, smiled; smiled for no particular reason, save that the morning air was very delightful38, the morning sunlight very warm and cheering, and the face before him very lovely to look at. But Holly, painfully aware of her burning cheeks, thought he was smiling at her blushes. “What a silly he must think me!” she reflected, angrily. “Blushing every time he comes near!” She busied herself with the roses for a moment.
[119]
“You’ve got more than you can manage, haven’t you?” asked Winthrop. “Suppose you entrust39 them to me; then you’ll have your hands free.”
Winthrop’s smile deepened.
“Do you know what I think, Miss Holly?” he asked.
“No,” said Holly, looking about her in a very preoccupied41 way in search of more blossoms.
“I think you’re a little bit resentful because I’ve come to share your Eden. I believe you were playing that you were Eve and that you were all alone here except for the serpent.”
“Playing!” said Holly, warmly. “Please, how old do you think I am, Mr. Winthrop?”
“My dear young lady,” answered Winthrop, gravely, “I wouldn’t think of even speculating on so serious a subject. But supposing you are very, very old, say seventeen—or even eighteen!—still you[120] haven’t, I hope, got beyond the age of make-believe. Why, even I—and, as you will readily see, I have one foot almost in the grave—even I sometimes make-believe.”
“Do you?” murmured Holly, very coldly.
There was silence for a moment during which Holly added further prizes to her store and Winthrop followed her and watched her in mingled42 admiration43 and amusement—admiration for the grace and beauty and sheer youth of her, amusement at her evident resentment44.
“I’m sorry,” he said presently, slowly and thoughtfully.
“At what?” Holly allowed herself a fleeting45 look at his face. It was very serious and regretful, but the smile still lurked46 in the dark eyes, and Holly’s vanity flew to arms again.
“Sorry that I’ve said something to displease47 you,” returned Winthrop. “You see, I was hoping to make friends with you, Miss Holly.”
[121]
Holly thought of a dozen questions to ask, but heroically refrained.
“I gathered from Major Cass last evening,” continued Winthrop, “that Northerners are not popular at Waynewood. But you seemed a very kind young lady, and I thought that if I could only win you over to my side you might intercede48 for me with your aunt. You see, I’d like very much to stay here, but I’m afraid Miss Wayne isn’t going to take to the idea. And now I’ve gone and antagonized the very person I meant to win for an ally.”
“I don’t see why you can’t stay here if you want to,” answered Holly. “Waynewood belongs to you.”
“But what would I do here all alone?” asked Winthrop. “I’m a frightfully helpless, ignorant chap. Why, I don’t even know how to cook a beefsteak! And as for beaten biscuit——!”
Holly smiled, in spite of herself.
“But you could hire some servants, I reckon.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t know how to manage[122] them, really. No, the only way in which I can remain here is as your guest, Miss Holly. I’ve asked Major Cass to tell Miss Wayne that, and I’ve no doubt but what he will do all he can for me, but I fancy that a word from you would help a lot, Miss Holly. Don’t you think you could tell your aunt that I am a very respectable sort of a fellow, one who has never been known to give any trouble? I have been with some of the best families and I can give references from my last place, if necessary.”
“I reckon you don’t know Aunt India,” laughed Holly. “If she says you can’t stay, you can’t, and it wouldn’t do a mite49 of good if I talked myself black in the face.”
Holly turned toward the house and he followed.
“You think, then,” he asked, “that there’s nothing more we can do to influence Fate in my behalf?”
Holly ran lightly up the steps, tossed the flowers in a heap on the porch, and sat down with her back against a pillar. Then[123] she pointed50 to the opposite side of the steps.
“Sit down there,” she commanded.
Winthrop bowed and obeyed. Holly clasped her hands about her knees, and looked across at him with merry eyes.
“Mr. Winthrop.”
“Madam?”
“What will you give me if I let you stay?”
“Pardon my incredulity,” replied Winthrop, “but is your permission all that is necessary?”
Holly nodded her head many times.
“If I say you can stay, you can,” she said, decisively.
“Then in exchange for your permission I will give you half my kingdom,” answered Winthrop, gravely.
“Oh, I don’t think I could use half a kingdom. It would be like owning half a horse, wouldn’t it? Supposing I wanted my half to go and the other half wouldn’t?”
“Then take it all.”
[124]
“No, because I reckon your kingdom’s up North, and I wouldn’t want a kingdom I couldn’t live in. It will have to be something else, I reckon.”
“And I have so little with me,” mourned Winthrop. “I dare say you wouldn’t have any use for a winter overcoat or a pair of patent-leather shoes? They’re about all I have to offer.”
“No,” laughed Holly; “anyhow, not the overcoat. Do you think the shoes would fit me?”
She advanced one little slippered foot from beyond the hem of her skirt. Winthrop looked, and shook his head.
“Honestly, I’m afraid not,” he said. “I don’t believe I ever saw a shoe that would fit you, Miss Holly.”
Holly acknowledged the compliment with a ceremonious bow and a little laugh.
“I didn’t know you Northerners could pay compliments,” she said.
“We are a very adaptable51 people,” answered Winthrop, “and pride ourselves on being able to face any situation.”
[125]
“But you haven’t told me what you’ll give me, Mr. Winthrop.”
“I have exhausted52 my treasures, Miss Holly. There remains53 only myself. I throw myself at your feet, my dear young lady; I will be your slave for life.”
“Oh, I thought you Northerners didn’t believe in slavery,” said Holly.
“We don’t believe in compulsory54 slavery, Miss Holly. To be a slave to Beauty is always a pleasure.”
“Another compliment!” cried Holly. “Two before breakfast!”
“And the day is still young,” laughed Winthrop.
“Oh, I won’t demand any more, Mr. Winthrop; you’ve done your duty already.”
“As you like; I am your slave.”
“How lovely! I never had a slave before,” said Holly, reflectively.
“I fear your memory is poor, Miss Holly. I’ll wager55 you’ve had, and doubtless still have, a score of them quite as willing as I.”
[126]
Holly blushed a little, but shook her head.
“Not I. But it’s a bargain, Mr. Winthrop. I won’t keep you for life, though; when you leave here I’ll give you your ‘freedance,’ as the negroes say. But while you are here you are to do just as I tell you. Will you?” she added, sternly.
“I obey implicitly,” answered Winthrop. “And now?”
“Why, you may stay, of course. Besides, it was all arranged last evening. Uncle Major and Auntie fixed56 it all up between them after he came down from seeing you. You are to have the room you are in and the one back of it, if you want it, and you are to pay three dollars and a-half a week; one dollar for your room and two dollars and a-half for your board.”
“But—isn’t that——?”
“Please don’t!” begged Holly. “I don’t know anything about it. If it’s too much, you must speak to Aunt India or Major Cass.”
[127]
“I was about to suggest that it seemed ridiculously little,” said Winthrop. “But——”
“Gracious!” exclaimed Holly. “Uncle Major thought it ought to be more, but Auntie wouldn’t hear of it. Do you think it should be?”
“Well, I’m scarcely a disinterested57 party,” laughed Winthrop, “but it doesn’t sound much, does it?”
“Three dollars and a-half!” said Holly, slowly and thoughtfully. Then she nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, it sounds a whole lot.” She laughed softly. “It’s very funny, though, isn’t it?”
“What?” he asked, smiling in sympathy.
“Why, that you should be paying three dollars and a-half a week for the privilege of being a slave!”
“Ah, but that’s it,” answered Winthrop. “It is a privilege, as you say.”
“Oh!” cried Holly, in simulated alarm. “You’re at it again, Mr. Winthrop!”
“At it? At what?”
[128]
“Compliments, compliments, sir! You’ll have none left for this evening if you don’t take care. Just think; you might meet a beautiful young lady this evening and not have any compliments for her! Wouldn’t that be dreadful?”
“Are you hungry?” asked Holly, suddenly.
“Hungry? No—yes—I hardly know.”
“You’re probably starving, then,” said Holly, jumping up and sweeping59 the roses into her arms. “I’ll see if breakfast isn’t nearly ready. Auntie doesn’t come down to breakfast very often, and it’s my place to see that it’s on time. But I never do, and it never is. Do you love punctuality, Mr. Winthrop?”
“Can’t bear it, Miss Holly.”
She stood a little way off, smiling down at him, a soft flush in her cheeks.
“You always say just the right thing, don’t you?” She laughed. “How do you manage it?”
[129]
“Long practice, my dear young lady. When you’ve lived as long as I have you will have discovered that it is much better to say the right thing than the wrong—even when the right thing isn’t altogether right.”
“Yes, I reckon so, but—sometimes it’s an awful temptation to say the wrong, isn’t it? Are you awfully60 old? May I guess?”
“I shall be flattered.”
“Then—forty?”
Winthrop sighed loudly.
“Too much? Wait! Thirty—thirty-seven?”
“Thirty-eight.”
“Is that very old? I shall be eighteen in a few days.”
“Really? Then, you see, I have already lived twice as long as you have.”
“Yes,” Holly nodded, thoughtfully. “Do you know, I don’t think I want to live to be real, real old; I think I’d rather die before—before that.”
“And what do you call real, real old?” asked Winthrop.
[130]
“Oh, I don’t know; fifty, I reckon.”
“Then I have twelve years longer to live,” said Winthrop, gravely.
Holly turned a pair of startled eyes upon him.
“No, no! It’s different with you; you’re a man.”
“Oh, that makes a difference?”
“Lots! Men can do heaps of things, great, big things, after they’re old, but a woman——” She paused and shrugged61 her shoulders in a funny, exaggerated way that Winthrop thought charming. “What is there for a woman when she’s that old?”
“Much,” answered Winthrop, gravely, “if she has been a wise woman. There should be her children to love and to love her, and if she has married the right man there will be that love, too, in the afternoon of her life.”
“Children,” murmured Holly. “Yes, that would be nice; but they wouldn’t be children then, would they? And—supposing they died before? The woman would[131] be terribly lonely, wouldn’t she—in the afternoon?”
Winthrop turned his face away and looked out across the sunlit garden.
“Yes,” he said, very soberly; “yes, she would be lonely.”
Something in his tones drew Holly’s attention. How deep the lines about his mouth were this morning, and how gray the hair was at his temples; she had not noticed it before. Yes, after all, thirty-eight was quite old. That thought or some other moved her to a sudden sentiment of pity. Impulsively62 she tore one of the big yellow roses from the bunch and with her free hand tossed it into his lap.
“Do you know, Mr. Winthrop,” she said, softly, “I reckon we’re going to be friends, you and I,—that is, if you want to.”
Winthrop sprang to his feet, the rose in his hand.
“I do want to, Miss Holly,” he said, earnestly. Somehow, before she realized it, Holly’s hand was in his. “I want it very much. I haven’t very many friends,[132] I guess, and when one gets toward forty he doesn’t find them as easily as he did. Is it a bargain, then? We are to be friends, very good friends, Miss Holly?”
“Yes,” answered Holly, simply, “very good friends.”
Her dark eyes looked seriously into his for a moment. Then she withdrew her hand, laughed softly under her breath and turned toward the door. But on the threshold she looked back over her shoulder, the old mischief63 in her face.
“But don’t you go and forget that you’re my slave, Mr. Winthrop,” she said.
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收听单词发音
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1
holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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slippered
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| 穿拖鞋的 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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lithe
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| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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belle
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glossy
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glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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devotedly
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| 专心地； 恩爱地； 忠实地； 一心一意地 | |
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domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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veneration
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| n.尊敬，崇拜 | |
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acorns
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| n.橡子，栎实( acorn的名词复数 ) | |
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snipped
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| v.剪( snip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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entrust
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| v.信赖，信托，交托 | |
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haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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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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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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displease
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| vt.使不高兴，惹怒；n.不悦，不满，生气 | |
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intercede
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| vi.仲裁，说情 | |
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mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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adaptable
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| adj.能适应的，适应性强的，可改编的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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compulsory
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| n.强制的，必修的；规定的，义务的 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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57
disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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58
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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59
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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60
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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61
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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62
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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63
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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64
fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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