This idea of their triumph, a triumph as yet ultimate and remote, but preceded by the solemn vista1 of an effort so religious as never to be wanting in ecstasy2, became tremendously familiar to the two friends, but especially to Olive, during the winter of 187-, a season which ushered3 in the most momentous4 period of Miss Chancellor5’s life. About Christmas a step was taken which advanced her affairs immensely, and put them, to her apprehension6, on a regular footing. This consisted in Verena’s coming in to Charles Street to stay with her, in pursuance of an arrangement on Olive’s part with Selah Tarrant and his wife that she should remain for many months. The coast was now perfectly7 clear. Mrs. Farrinder had started on her annual grand tour; she was rousing the people, from Maine to Texas; Matthias Pardon (it was to be supposed) had received, temporarily at least, his quietus; and Mrs. Luna was established in New York, where she had taken a house for a year, and whence she wrote to her sister that she was going to engage Basil Ransom8 (with whom she was in communication for this purpose) to do her law-business. Olive wondered what law-business Adeline could have, and hoped she would get into a pickle9 with her landlord or her milliner, so that repeated interviews with Mr. Ransom might become necessary. Mrs. Luna let her know very soon that these interviews had begun; the young Mississippian had come to dine with her; he hadn’t got started much, by what she could make out, and she was even afraid that he didn’t dine every day. But he wore a tall hat now, like a Northern gentleman, and Adeline intimated that she found him really attractive. He had been very nice to Newton, told him all about the war (quite the Southern version, of course, but Mrs. Luna didn’t care anything about American politics, and she wanted her son to know all sides), and Newton did nothing but talk about him, calling him “Rannie,” and imitating his pronunciation of certain words. Adeline subsequently wrote that she had made up her mind to put her affairs into his hands (Olive sighed, not unmagnanimously, as she thought of her sister’s “affairs”), and later still she mentioned that she was thinking strongly of taking him to be Newton’s tutor. She wished this interesting child to be privately10 educated, and it would be more agreeable to have in that relation a person who was already, as it were, a member of the family. Mrs. Luna wrote as if he were prepared to give up his profession to take charge of her son, and Olive was pretty sure that this was only a part of her grandeur11, of the habit she had contracted, especially since living in Europe, of speaking as if in every case she required special arrangements.
In spite of the difference in their age, Olive had long since judged her, and made up her mind that Adeline lacked every quality that a person needed to be interesting in her eyes. She was rich (or sufficiently12 so), she was conventional and timid, very fond of attentions from men (with whom indeed she was reputed bold, but Olive scorned such boldness as that), given up to a merely personal, egotistical, instinctive14 life, and as unconscious of the tendencies of the age, the revenges of the future, the new truths and the great social questions, as if she had been a mere13 bundle of dress-trimmings, which she very nearly was. It was perfectly observable that she had no conscience, and it irritated Olive deeply to see how much trouble a woman was spared when she was constructed on that system. Adeline’s “affairs,” as I have intimated, her social relations, her views of Newton’s education, her practice and her theory (for she had plenty of that, such as it was, heaven save the mark!), her spasmodic disposition15 to marry again, and her still sillier retreats in the presence of danger (for she had not even the courage of her frivolity), these things had been a subject of tragic16 consideration to Olive ever since the return of the elder sister to America. The tragedy was not in any particular harm that Mrs. Luna could do her (for she did her good, rather, that is, she did her honour by laughing at her), but in the spectacle itself, the drama, guided by the hand of fate, of which the small, ignoble17 scenes unrolled themselves so logically. The dénouement would of course be in keeping, and would consist simply of the spiritual death of Mrs. Luna, who would end by understanding no common speech of Olive’s at all, and would sink into mere worldly plumpness, into the last complacency, the supreme18 imbecility, of petty, genteel conservatism. As for Newton, he would be more utterly19 odious20, if possible, as he grew up, than he was already; in fact, he would not grow up at all, but only grow down, if his mother should continue her infatuated system with him. He was insufferably forward and selfish; under the pretext21 of keeping him, at any cost, refined, Adeline had coddled and caressed22 him, having him always in her petticoats, remitting23 his lessons when he pretended he had an earache24, drawing him into the conversation, letting him answer her back, with an impertinence beyond his years, when she administered the smallest check. The place for him, in Olive’s eyes, was one of the public schools, where the children of the people would teach him his small importance, teach it, if necessary, by the aid of an occasional drubbing; and the two ladies had a grand discussion on this point before Mrs. Luna left Boston — a scene which ended in Adeline’s clutching the irrepressible Newton to her bosom25 (he came in at the moment), and demanding of him a vow26 that he would live and die in the principles of his mother. Mrs. Luna declared that if she must be trampled27 upon — and very likely it was her fate!— she would rather be trampled upon by men than by women, and that if Olive and her friends should get possession of the government they would be worse despots than those who were celebrated28 in history. Newton took an infant oath that he would never be a destructive, impious radical29, and Olive felt that after this she needn’t trouble herself any more about her sister, whom she simply committed to her fate. That fate might very properly be to marry an enemy of her country, a man who, no doubt, desired to treat women with the lash30 and manacles, as he and his people had formerly31 treated the wretched coloured race. If she was so fond of the fine old institutions of the past, he would supply them to her in abundance; and if she wanted so much to be a conservative, she could try first how she liked being a conservative’s wife. If Olive troubled herself little about Adeline, she troubled herself more about Basil Ransom; she said to herself that since he hated women who respected themselves (and each other), destiny would use him rightly in hanging a person like Adeline round his neck. That would be the way poetic32 justice ought to work, for him — and the law that our prejudices, when they act themselves out, punish us in doing so. Olive considered all this, as it was her effort to consider everything, from a very high point of view, and ended by feeling sure it was not for the sake of any nervous personal security that she desired to see her two relations in New York get mixed up together. If such an event as their marriage would gratify her sense of fitness, it would be simply as an illustration of certain laws. Olive, thanks to the philosophic33 cast of her mind, was exceedingly fond of illustrations of laws.
I hardly know, however, what illumination it was that sprang from her consciousness (now a source of considerable comfort) that Mrs. Farrinder was carrying the war into distant territories, and would return to Boston only in time to preside at a grand Female Convention, already advertised to take place in Boston in the month of June. It was agreeable to her that this imperial woman should be away; it made the field more free, the air more light; it suggested an exemption34 from official criticism. I have not taken space to mention certain episodes of the more recent intercourse35 of these ladies, and must content myself with tracing them, lightly, in their consequences. These may be summed up in the remark, which will doubtless startle no one by its freshness, that two imperial women are scarcely more likely to hit it off together, as the phrase is, than two imperial men. Since that party at Miss Birdseye’s, so important in its results for Olive, she had had occasion to approach Mrs. Farrinder more nearly, and those overtures36 brought forth37 the knowledge that the great leader of the feminine revolution was the one person (in that part of the world) more concentrated, more determined38, than herself. Miss Chancellor’s aspirations39, of late, had been immensely quickened; she had begun to believe in herself to a livelier tune40 than she had ever listened to before; and she now perceived that when spirit meets spirit there must either be mutual41 absorption or a sharp concussion42. It had long been familiar to her that she should have to count with the obstinacy43 of the world at large, but she now discovered that she should have to count also with certain elements in the feminine camp. This complicated the problem, and such a complication, naturally, could not make Mrs. Farrinder appear more easy to assimilate. If Olive’s was a high nature and so was hers, the fault was in neither; it was only an admonition that they were not needed as landmarks44 in the same part of the field. If such perceptions are delicate as between men, the reader need not be reminded of the exquisite45 form they may assume in natures more refined. So it was that Olive passed, in three months, from the stage of veneration46 to that of competition; and the process had been accelerated by the introduction of Verena into the fold. Mrs. Farrinder had behaved in the strangest way about Verena. First she had been struck with her, and then she hadn’t; first she had seemed to want to take her in, then she had shied at her unmistakably — intimating to Olive that there were enough of that kind already. Of “that kind” indeed!— the phrase reverberated47 in Miss Chancellor’s resentful soul. Was it possible she didn’t know the kind Verena was of, and with what vulgar aspirants48 to notoriety did she confound her? It had been Olive’s original desire to obtain Mrs. Farrinder’s stamp for her protégée; she wished her to hold a commission from the commander-inchief. With this view the two young women had made more than one pilgrimage to Roxbury, and on one of these occasions the sibylline49 mood (in its most charming form) had descended50 upon Verena. She had fallen into it, naturally and gracefully51, in the course of talk, and poured out a stream of eloquence52 even more touching53 than her regular discourse54 at Miss Birdseye’s. Mrs. Farrinder had taken it rather dryly, and certainly it didn’t resemble her own style of oratory55, remarkable56 and cogent57 as this was. There had been considerable question of her writing a letter to the New York Tribune, the effect of which should be to launch Miss Tarrant into renown58; but this beneficent epistle never appeared, and now Olive saw that there was no favour to come from the prophetess of Roxbury. There had been primnesses, pruderies, small reserves, which ended by staying her pen. If Olive didn’t say at once that she was jealous of Verena’s more attractive manner, it was only because such a declaration was destined59 to produce more effect a little later. What she did say was that evidently Mrs. Farrinder wanted to keep the movement in her own hands — viewed with suspicion certain romantic, esthetic60 elements which Olive and Verena seemed to be trying to introduce into it. They insisted so much, for instance, on the historic unhappiness of women; but Mrs. Farrinder didn’t appear to care anything for that, or indeed to know much about history at all. She seemed to begin just today, and she demanded their rights for them whether they were unhappy or not. The upshot of this was that Olive threw herself on Verena’s neck with a movement which was half indignation, half rapture61; she exclaimed that they would have to fight the battle without human help, but, after all, it was better so. If they were all in all to each other, what more could they want? They would be isolated62, but they would be free; and this view of the situation brought with it a feeling that they had almost already begun to be a force. It was not, indeed, that Olive’s resentment63 faded quite away; for not only had she the sense, doubtless very presumptuous64, that Mrs. Farrinder was the only person thereabouts of a stature65 to judge her (a sufficient cause of antagonism66 in itself, for if we like to be praised by our betters we prefer that censure67 should come from the other sort), but the kind of opinion she had unexpectedly betrayed, after implying such esteem68 in the earlier phase of their intercourse, made Olive’s cheeks occasionally flush. She prayed heaven that she might never become so personal, so narrow. She was frivolous69, worldly, an amateur, a trifler, a frequenter of Beacon70 Street; her taking up Verena Tarrant was only a kind of elderly, ridiculous doll-dressing: this was the light in which Miss Chancellor had reason to believe that it now suited Mrs. Farrinder to regard her! It was fortunate, perhaps, that the misrepresentation was so gross; yet, none the less, tears of wrath71 rose more than once to Olive’s eyes when she reflected that this particular wrong had been put upon her. Frivolous, worldly, Beacon Street! She appealed to Verena to share in her pledge that the world should know in due time how much of that sort of thing there was about her. As I have already hinted, Verena at such moments quite rose to the occasion; she had private pangs72 at committing herself to give the cold shoulder to Beacon Street for ever; but she was now so completely in Olive’s hands that there was no sacrifice to which she would not have consented in order to prove that her benefactress was not frivolous.
The matter of her coming to stay for so long in Charles Street was arranged during a visit that Selah Tarrant paid there at Miss Chancellor’s request. This interview, which had some curious features, would be worth describing but I am forbidden to do more than mention the most striking of these. Olive wished to have an understanding with him; wished the situation to be clear, so that, disagreeable as it would be to her to receive him, she sent him a summons for a certain hour — an hour at which she had planned that Verena should be out of the house. She withheld73 this incident from the girl’s knowledge, reflecting with some solemnity that it was the first deception74 (for Olive her silence was a deception) that she had yet practised on her friend, and wondering whether she should have to practise others in the future. She then and there made up her mind that she would not shrink from others should they be necessary. She notified Tarrant that she should keep Verena a long time, and Tarrant remarked that it was certainly very pleasant to see her so happily located. But he also intimated that he should like to know what Miss Chancellor laid out to do with her; and the tone of this suggestion made Olive feel how right she had been to foresee that their interview would have the stamp of business. It assumed that complexion75 very definitely when she crossed over to her desk and wrote Mr. Tarrant a cheque for a very considerable amount. “Leave us alone — entirely76 alone — for a year, and then I will write you another”: it was with these words she handed him the little strip of paper that meant so much, feeling, as she did so, that surely Mrs. Farrinder herself could not be less amateurish77 than that. Selah looked at the cheque, at Miss Chancellor, at the cheque again, at the ceiling, at the floor, at the clock, and once more at his hostess; then the document disappeared beneath the folds of his waterproof78, and she saw that he was putting it into some queer place on his queer person. “Well, if I didn’t believe you were going to help her to develop,” he remarked; and he stopped, while his hands continued to fumble79, out of sight, and he treated Olive to his large joyless smile. She assured him that he need have no fear on that score; Verena’s development was the thing in the world in which she took most interest; she should have every opportunity for a free expansion. “Yes, that’s the great thing,” Selah said; “it’s more important than attracting a crowd. That’s all we shall ask of you; let her act out her nature. Don’t all the trouble of humanity come from our being pressed back? Don’t shut down the cover, Miss Chancellor; just let her overflow80!” And again Tarrant illuminated81 his inquiry82, his metaphor83, by the strange and silent lateral84 movement of his jaws85. He added, presently, that he supposed he should have to fix it with Mis’ Tarrant; but Olive made no answer to that; she only looked at him with a face in which she intended to express that there was nothing that need detain him longer. She knew it had been fixed86 with Mrs. Tarrant; she had been over all that with Verena, who had told her that her mother was willing to sacrifice her for her highest good. She had reason to know (not through Verena, of course) that Mrs. Tarrant had embraced, tenderly, the idea of a pecuniary87 compensation, and there was no fear of her making a scene when Tarrant should come back with a cheque in his pocket. “Well, I trust she may develop, richly, and that you may accomplish what you desire; it seems as if we had only a little way to go further,” that worthy88 observed, as he erected89 himself for departure.
“It’s not a little way; it’s a very long way,” Olive replied, rather sternly.
Tarrant was on the threshold; he lingered a little, embarrassed by her grimness, for he himself had always inclined to rose-coloured views of progress, of the march of truth. He had never met any one so much in earnest as this definite, literal young woman, who had taken such an unhoped-for fancy to his daughter; whose longing90 for the new day had such perversities of pessimism91, and who, in the midst of something that appeared to be terribly searching in her honesty, was willing to corrupt92 him, as a father, with the most extravagant93 orders on her bank. He hardly knew in what language to speak to her; it seemed as if there was nothing soothing94 enough, when a lady adopted that tone about a movement which was thought by some of the brightest to be so promising95. “Oh, well, I guess there’s some kind of mysterious law. . . . ” he murmured, almost timidly; and so he passed from Miss Chancellor’s sight.
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vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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momentous
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| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
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chancellor
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| n.(英)大臣；法官；(德、奥)总理；大学校长 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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remitting
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| v.免除（债务），宽恕( remit的现在分词 )；使某事缓和；寄回，传送 | |
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earache
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| n.耳朵痛 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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exemption
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| n.豁免，免税额，免除 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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overtures
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| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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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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concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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landmarks
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| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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veneration
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| n.尊敬，崇拜 | |
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reverberated
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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aspirants
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| n.有志向或渴望获得…的人( aspirant的名词复数 )v.渴望的，有抱负的，追求名誉或地位的( aspirant的第三人称单数 )；有志向或渴望获得…的人 | |
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sibylline
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| adj.预言的；神巫的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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cogent
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| adj.强有力的，有说服力的 | |
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renown
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| n.声誉，名望 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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esthetic
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| adj.美学的，审美的；悦目的，雅致的 | |
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rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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censure
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| v./n.责备；非难；责难 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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beacon
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| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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72
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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withheld
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| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
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deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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amateurish
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| n.业余爱好的，不熟练的 | |
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waterproof
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| n.防水材料；adj.防水的；v.使...能防水 | |
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fumble
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| vi.笨拙地用手摸、弄、接等，摸索 | |
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overflow
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| v.(使)外溢，(使)溢出；溢出，流出，漫出 | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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metaphor
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| n.隐喻，暗喻 | |
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lateral
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| adj.侧面的，旁边的 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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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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pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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pessimism
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| n.悲观者，悲观主义者，厌世者 | |
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corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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extravagant
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| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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