Mrs. Tarrant was delighted, as may be imagined, with her daughter’s account of Miss Chancellor1’s interior, and the reception the girl had found there; and Verena, for the next month, took her way very often to Charles Street. “Just you be as nice to her as you know how,” Mrs. Tarrant had said to her; and she reflected with some complacency that her daughter did know — she knew how to do everything of that sort. It was not that Verena had been taught; that branch of the education of young ladies which is known as “manners and deportment” had not figured, as a definite head, in Miss Tarrant’s curriculum. She had been told, indeed, that she must not lie nor steal; but she had been told very little else about behaviour; her only great advantage, in short, had been the parental2 example. But her mother liked to think that she was quick and graceful3, and she questioned her exhaustively as to the progress of this interesting episode; she didn’t see why, as she said, it shouldn’t be a permanent “stand-by” for Verena. In Mrs. Tarrant’s meditations4 upon the girl’s future she had never thought of a fine marriage as a reward of effort; she would have deemed herself very immoral5 if she had endeavoured to capture for her child a rich husband. She had not, in fact, a very vivid sense of the existence of such agents of fate; all the rich men she had seen already had wives, and the unmarried men, who were generally very young, were distinguished6 from each other not so much by the figure of their income, which came little into question, as by the degree of their interest in regenerating7 ideas. She supposed Verena would marry some one, some day, and she hoped the personage would be connected with public life — which meant, for Mrs. Tarrant, that his name would be visible, in the lamp-light, on a coloured poster, in the doorway8 of Tremont Temple. But she was not eager about this vision, for the implications of matrimony were for the most part wanting in brightness — consisted of a tired woman holding a baby over a furnace-register that emitted lukewarm air. A real lovely friendship with a young woman who had, as Mrs. Tarrant expressed it, “prop’ty,” would occupy agreeably such an interval9 as might occur before Verena should meet her sterner fate; it would be a great thing for her to have a place to run into when she wanted a change, and there was no knowing but what it might end in her having two homes. For the idea of the home, like most American women of her quality, Mrs. Tarrant had an extreme reverence10; and it was her candid11 faith that in all the vicissitudes12 of the past twenty years she had preserved the spirit of this institution. If it should exist in duplicate for Verena, the girl would be favoured indeed.
All this was as nothing, however, compared with the fact that Miss Chancellor seemed to think her young friend’s gift was inspirational, or at any rate, as Selah had so often said, quite unique. She couldn’t make out very exactly, by Verena, what she thought; but if the way Miss Chancellor had taken hold of her didn’t show that she believed she could rouse the people, Mrs. Tarrant didn’t know what it showed. It was a satisfaction to her that Verena evidently responded freely; she didn’t think anything of what she spent in car-tickets, and indeed she had told her that Miss Chancellor wanted to stuff her pockets with them. At first she went in because her mother liked to have her; but now, evidently, she went because she was so much drawn13. She expressed the highest admiration14 of her new friend; she said it took her a little while to see into her, but now that she did, well, she was perfectly15 splendid. When Verena wanted to admire she went ahead of every one, and it was delightful16 to see how she was stimulated17 by the young lady in Charles Street. They thought everything of each other — that was very plain; you could scarcely tell which thought most. Each thought the other so noble, and Mrs. Tarrant had a faith that between them they would rouse the people. What Verena wanted was some one who would know how to handle her (her father hadn’t handled anything except the healing, up to this time, with real success), and perhaps Miss Chancellor would take hold better than some that made more of a profession.
“It’s beautiful, the way she draws you out,” Verena had said to her mother; “there’s something so searching that the first time I visited her it quite realised my idea of the Day of Judgement. But she seems to show all that’s in herself at the same time, and then you see how lovely it is. She’s just as pure as she can live; you see if she is not, when you know her. She’s so noble herself that she makes you feel as if you wouldn’t want to be less so. She doesn’t care for anything but the elevation18 of our sex; if she can work a little toward that, it’s all she asks. I can tell you, she kindles19 me; she does, mother, really. She doesn’t care a speck20 what she wears — only to have an elegant parlour. Well, she has got that; it’s a regular dream-like place to sit. She’s going to have a tree in, next week; she says she wants to see me sitting under a tree. I believe it’s some oriental idea; it has lately been introduced in Paris. She doesn’t like French ideas as a general thing; but she says this has more nature than most. She has got so many of her own that I shouldn’t think she would require to borrow any. I’d sit in a forest to hear her bring some of them out,” Verena went on, with characteristic raciness. “She just quivers when she describes what our sex has been through. It’s so interesting to me to hear what I have always felt. If she wasn’t afraid of facing the public, she would go far ahead of me. But she doesn’t want to speak herself; she only wants to call me out. Mother, if she doesn’t attract attention to me there isn’t any attention to be attracted. She says I have got the gift of expression — it doesn’t matter where it comes from. She says it’s a great advantage to a movement to be personified in a bright young figure. Well, of course I’m young, and I feel bright enough when once I get started. She says my serenity21 while exposed to the gaze of hundreds is in itself a qualification; in fact, she seems to think my serenity is quite God-given. She hasn’t got much of it herself; she’s the most emotional woman I have met, up to now. She wants to know how I can speak the way I do unless I feel; and of course I tell her I do feel, so far as I realise. She seems to be realising all the time; I never saw any one that took so little rest. She says I ought to do something great, and she makes me feel as if I should. She says I ought to have a wide influence, if I can obtain the ear of the public; and I say to her that if I do it will be all her influence.”
Selah Tarrant looked at all this from a higher standpoint than his wife; at least such an attitude on his part was to be inferred from his increased solemnity. He committed himself to no precipitate22 elation23 at the idea of his daughter’s being taken up by a patroness of movements who happened to have money; he looked at his child only from the point of view of the service she might render to humanity. To keep her ideal pointing in the right direction, to guide and animate24 her moral life — this was a duty more imperative25 for a parent so closely identified with revelations and panaceas26 than seeing that she formed profitable worldly connexions. He was “off,” moreover, so much of the time that he could keep little account of her comings and goings, and he had an air of being but vaguely27 aware of whom Miss Chancellor, the object now of his wife’s perpetual reference, might be. Verena’s initial appearance in Boston, as he called her performance at Miss Birdseye’s, had been a great success; and this reflexion added, as I say, to his habitually28 sacerdotal expression. He looked like the priest of a religion that was passing through the stage of miracles; he carried his responsibility in the general elongation of his person, of his gestures (his hands were now always in the air, as if he were being photographed in postures), of his words and sentences, as well as in his smile, as noiseless as a patent hinge, and in the folds of his eternal waterproof29. He was incapable30 of giving an off-hand answer or opinion on the simplest occasion, and his tone of high deliberation increased in proportion as the subject was trivial or domestic. If his wife asked him at dinner if the potatoes were good, he replied that they were strikingly fine (he used to speak of the newspaper as “fine”— he applied31 this term to objects the most dissimilar), and embarked32 on a parallel worthy33 of Plutarch, in which he compared them with other specimens34 of the same vegetable. He produced, or would have liked to produce, the impression of looking above and beyond everything, of not caring for the immediate35, of reckoning only with the long run. In reality he had one all-absorbing solicitude36 — the desire to get paragraphs put into the newspapers, paragraphs of which he had hitherto been the subject, but of which he was now to divide the glory with his daughter. The newspapers were his world, the richest expression, in his eyes, of human life; and, for him, if a diviner day was to come upon earth, it would be brought about by copious37 advertisement in the daily prints. He looked with longing38 for the moment when Verena should be advertised among the “personals,” and to his mind the supremely39 happy people were those (and there were a good many of them) of whom there was some journalistic mention every day in the year. Nothing less than this would really have satisfied Selah Tarrant; his ideal of bliss40 was to be as regularly and indispensably a component41 part of the newspaper as the title and date, or the list of fires, or the column of Western jokes. The vision of that publicity42 haunted his dreams, and he would gladly have sacrificed to it the innermost sanctities of home. Human existence to him, indeed, was a huge publicity, in which the only fault was that it was sometimes not sufficiently43 effective. There had been a Spiritualist paper of old which he used to pervade44; but he could not persuade himself that through this medium his personality had attracted general attention; and, moreover, the sheet, as he said, was played out anyway. Success was not success so long as his daughter’s physique, the rumour45 of her engagement, were not included in the “Jottings” with the certainty of being extensively copied.
The account of her exploits in the West had not made their way to the seaboard with the promptitude that he had looked for; the reason of this being, he supposed, that the few addresses she had made had not been lectures, announced in advance, to which tickets had been sold, but incidents, of abrupt46 occurrence, of certain multitudinous meetings, where there had been other performers better known to fame. They had brought in no money; they had been delivered only for the good of the cause. If it could only be known that she spoke47 for nothing, that might deepen the reverberation48; the only trouble was that her speaking for nothing was not the way to remind him that he had a remunerative49 daughter. It was not the way to stand out so very much either, Selah Tarrant felt; for there were plenty of others that knew how to make as little money as she would. To speak — that was the one thing that most people were willing to do for nothing; it was not a line in which it was easy to appear conspicuously50 disinterested51. Disinterestedness52, too, was incompatible53 with receipts; and receipts were what Selah Tarrant was, in his own parlance54, after. He wished to bring about the day when they would flow in freely; the reader perhaps sees the gesture with which, in his colloquies55 with himself, he accompanied this mental image.
It seemed to him at present that the fruitful time was not far off; it had been brought appreciably56 nearer by that fortunate evening at Miss Birdseye’s. If Mrs. Farrinder could be induced to write an “open letter” about Verena, that would do more than anything else. Selah was not remarkable57 for delicacy58 of perception, but he knew the world he lived in well enough to be aware that Mrs. Farrinder was liable to rear up, as they used to say down in Pennsylvania, where he lived before he began to peddle59 lead-pencils. She wouldn’t always take things as you might expect, and if it didn’t meet her views to pay a public tribute to Verena, there wasn’t any way known to Tarrant’s ingenious mind of getting round her. If it was a question of a favour from Mrs. Farrinder, you just had to wait for it, as you would for a rise in the thermometer. He had told Miss Birdseye what he would like, and she seemed to think, from the way their celebrated60 friend had been affected61, that the idea might take her some day of just letting the public know all she had felt. She was off somewhere now (since that evening), but Miss Birdseye had an idea that when she was back in Roxbury she would send for Verena and give her a few points. Meanwhile, at any rate, Selah was sure he had a card; he felt there was money in the air. It might already be said there were receipts from Charles Street; that rich, peculiar62 young woman seemed to want to lavish63 herself. He pretended, as I have intimated, not to notice this; but he never saw so much as when he had his eyes fixed64 on the cornice. He had no doubt that if he should make up his mind to take a hall some night, she would tell him where the bill might be sent. That was what he was thinking of now, whether he had better take a hall right away, so that Verena might leap at a bound into renown65, or wait till she had made a few more appearances in private, so that curiosity might be worked up.
These meditations accompanied him in his multifarious wanderings through the streets and the suburbs of the New England capital. As I have also mentioned, he was absent for hours — long periods during which Mrs. Tarrant, sustaining nature with a hard-boiled egg and a doughnut, wondered how in the world he stayed his stomach. He never wanted anything but a piece of pie when he came in; the only thing about which he was particular was that it should be served up hot. She had a private conviction that he partook, at the houses of his lady patients, of little lunches; she applied this term to any episodical repast, at any hour of the twenty-four. It is but fair to add that once, when she betrayed her suspicion, Selah remarked that the only refreshment66 he ever wanted was the sense that he was doing some good. This effort with him had many forms; it involved, among other things, a perpetual perambulation of the streets, a haunting of horse-cars, railway-stations, shops that were “selling off.” But the places that knew him best were the offices of the newspapers and the vestibules of the hotels — the big marble-paved chambers67 of informal reunion which offer to the streets, through high glass plates, the sight of the American citizen suspended by his heels. Here, amid the piled-up luggage, the convenient spittoons, the elbowing loungers, the disconsolate68 “guests,” the truculent69 Irish porters, the rows of shaggy-backed men in strange hats, writing letters at a table inlaid with advertisements, Selah Tarrant made innumerable contemplative stations. He could not have told you, at any particular moment, what he was doing; he only had a general sense that such places were national nerve-centres, and that the more one looked in, the more one was “on the spot.” The penetralia of the daily press were, however, still more fascinating, and the fact that they were less accessible, that here he found barriers in his path, only added to the zest70 of forcing an entrance. He abounded71 in pretexts72; he even sometimes brought contributions; he was persistent73 and penetrating74, he was known as the irrepressible Tarrant. He hung about, sat too long, took up the time of busy people, edged into the printing-rooms when he had been eliminated from the office, talked with the compositors till they set up his remarks by mistake, and to the newsboys when the compositors had turned their backs. He was always trying to find out what was “going in”; he would have liked to go in himself, bodily, and, failing in this, he hoped to get advertisements inserted gratis75. The wish of his soul was that he might be interviewed; that made him hover76 at the editorial elbow. Once he thought he had been, and the headings, five or six deep, danced for days before his eyes; but the report never appeared. He expected his revenge for this the day after Verena should have burst forth77; he saw the attitude in which he should receive the emissaries who would come after his daughter.
收听单词发音 |
1
chancellor
|
|
| n.(英)大臣；法官；(德、奥)总理；大学校长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
parental
|
|
| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
meditations
|
|
| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
immoral
|
|
| adj.不道德的，淫荡的，荒淫的，有伤风化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
regenerating
|
|
| v.新生，再生( regenerate的现在分词 )；正反馈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
reverence
|
|
| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
candid
|
|
| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
vicissitudes
|
|
| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
stimulated
|
|
| a.刺激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
elevation
|
|
| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
kindles
|
|
| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的第三人称单数 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
speck
|
|
| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
serenity
|
|
| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
precipitate
|
|
| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
elation
|
|
| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
animate
|
|
| v.赋于生命，鼓励；adj.有生命的，有生气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
imperative
|
|
| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
panaceas
|
|
| n.治百病的药，万灵药( panacea的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
habitually
|
|
| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
waterproof
|
|
| n.防水材料；adj.防水的；v.使...能防水 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
embarked
|
|
| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
specimens
|
|
| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
solicitude
|
|
| n.焦虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
copious
|
|
| adj.丰富的，大量的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
supremely
|
|
| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
bliss
|
|
| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
component
|
|
| n.组成部分，成分，元件；adj.组成的，合成的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
publicity
|
|
| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
pervade
|
|
| v.弥漫，遍及，充满，渗透，漫延 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
reverberation
|
|
| 反响； 回响； 反射； 反射物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
remunerative
|
|
| adj.有报酬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
conspicuously
|
|
| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
disinterested
|
|
| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
disinterestedness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
incompatible
|
|
| adj.不相容的，不协调的，不相配的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
parlance
|
|
| n.说法；语调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
colloquies
|
|
| n.谈话，对话( colloquy的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
appreciably
|
|
| adv.相当大地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
peddle
|
|
| vt.(沿街)叫卖，兜售；宣传，散播 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
lavish
|
|
| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
renown
|
|
| n.声誉，名望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
refreshment
|
|
| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
disconsolate
|
|
| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
truculent
|
|
| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
zest
|
|
| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
abounded
|
|
| v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
pretexts
|
|
| n.借口，托辞( pretext的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
persistent
|
|
| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
penetrating
|
|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
gratis
|
|
| adj.免费的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
hover
|
|
| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |