As the two young men came up, Mrs. Pierce turned gracefully13, her hand upon the screen-door, and with a smile awaited them. Her teeth were so solid, white, and perfect in their alignment14 that it was difficult to see where they joined together, and they sometimes suggested twin rows of solid gleaming ivory more than individual teeth: this circumstance also contributed to the glacial, detached and almost inhuman15 quality of her smile. She greeted her son’s friend with a kindly16 but detached “Good morning,” and without altering the rigid17 brilliance18 of her smile a jot19, turned to her son and said:
“I thought you were coming to the pool. What happened to you and Ros’?”
These words were spoken quietly and matter-of-factly: nevertheless, the suggestion of strong displeasure and annoyance20 was somehow unmistakable.
Joel answered quickly, whispering a swift concerned explanation, his thin figure slightly bent21 forward, his gaunt face lifted, eagerly, radiantly concerned, in that attitude of devoted22 and solicitous23 respect that characterized his relations with every woman, but that was extremely marked when he spoke or listened to his mother:
“I know, Mums,” he whispered swiftly, apologetically — “I’m TERRIBLY sorry — but he promised to read his play to us and that took all morning. . . . MUMS!” he went on in his astounded24 and enthusiastic whisper, “it’s SIMPLY magnificent — I wish you could have been there to hear it.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Pierce quietly, and turning, for a moment she regarded her son’s friend with that glacially brilliant smile of her thin and faintly carmined lips that never changed or altered in expression by an atom. “Oh,” she said, “I should like to — perhaps you will read it to me some time.”
“SIMPLY superb,” Joel whispered, “it really is.”
“And now you boys had better get ready for lunch,” she said in a more warm and friendly tone. “You know how Granny hates it if people get there late.”
With these words she went into the house and mounted the stairs. The young men followed her: at the foot of the stairs Joel turned and said to his visitor:
“Look — I’d hurry as much as I could! . . . We’ve only twenty minutes: you’ve just got time to bathe and dress.”
Bathe and dress! The youth looked at his young host with a bewildered, uncomprehending face, and with a sinking feeling in his heart. What did they expect him to do — what, according to the formula of these strange rare people, was one supposed to do when one was invited out to lunch? He had bathed that morning when he got up, it seemed to him that he must still be very clean, and as for dressing25, he had just one suit of clothes in all the world, and that was the suit he was wearing at that moment. And just one day before, when he had left New York to come to this magical, unbelievably glorious place, he had thought, in his miserable26 na?ve ignorance, that this one suit of clothes, three shirts, three pairs of socks, and a change of underwear were abundantly sufficient to all the demands that fashion and a week-end visit could possibly make on him. At that moment, as he stared at his friend with a gaping27 mouth, unable to reply, the terrific impact of this new world which had stunned28 him the night before with its magnificence and beauty exploded in his brain in a flare29 of stars and rockets. And for a moment now he felt a lost, sickening desperate terror, and curiously30, a feeling of blind resentment31 against his friend. For a moment he felt tricked and deceived — deceived by Joel’s modesty32, his exquisite33 humility34, by the frayed35 and shabby clothes he had worn in Cambridge and New York, by the over-refinement of his breeding, which had caused him to conceal36 utterly37 his true state of life, never to suggest by a word or reference the kind of life that he came from, the wealth, the luxury, the magnificence of the world in which he had been born and lived.
“D-d-dress! . . . But . . . how — ” his face reddened, he craned his neck doggedly38, and suddenly blurted39 out:
“Dress? In what? This is the only suit I’ve got!”
“But of COURSE!” Joel whispered, arching his eyebrows40 in astounded surprise. “What’s wrong with that? . . . You can wear a dark coat anywhere — all that I meant was that you could wear white flannels42 with it.”
“Flannels!” the other said, “I have no flannels, Joel. . . . This suit is all I’ve got to wear; if I can’t wear this, I can’t go.”
“But of course you can wear it!” Joel cried, concealing43 any surprise he may have felt with the instant impatient agreement of his tone. “It’s PERFECTLY44 all right — only,” his eyes were thoughtful for a moment, he considered swiftly —“Look here!” he said abruptly45, “would you like to wear a pair of mine? I’m not as tall as you are, but perhaps you can make them fit. . . . And if you can’t,” he said quickly, “it’s PERFECTLY all right — it doesn’t matter in the slightest — it’s only,” and his eyes for an instant had a faintly perturbed46 expression, “— it’s only that Grandfather belongs to the old school — oh, he’s SWELL7, SIMPLY magnificent; you’ll like him the moment you see him — the only reason I dress when going there is that he’s got old-fashioned standards — and he’s so GRAND— I do everything I can to please him — But come on!” he whispered quickly, “I’ll give you a pair of mine, and you can wear them if they fit — and if they don’t — it doesn’t matter in the slightest.”
They went upstairs then to Joel’s room; he gave his friend a pair of striped flannel41 trousers, and the other departed dutifully to bathe, put on a clean shirt and collar and the flannel trousers — which proved, indeed, a very tight precarious47 fit, but which were made to do — and thus correctly garmented, he joined the family and the other guests, and they drove away to Mr. Joel’s house.
The great rambling48 old house which had been so lovely in the moon-enchantment of the night before was no less beautiful by day. It sat there in the hollow of the hill, embowered in rich green and shaded by the leafy spread of its great maples49, with the homely50, pure, and casual loveliness that the old houses of New England have.
Old Mr. Joel himself was just as grand and imposing51 a personality as Joel had indicated. He was, indeed, in Joel’s word, “stupendous”; a figure of leonine magnificence and gallant52 gentility, who might have stepped forth53 from a page of Thackeray. He was already past his seventieth year, but his body was still strongly, vigorously set: he was somewhat above the middle height, but his neck and shoulders had a kind of massive strength that suggested he had been a powerfully built man in his prime. His white mane of hair was soft as silk and gave his wide brow and ruddy, pleated old man’s face a kind of noble lion-like fierceness, and this impression was enhanced by his grizzled moustache and his old, rather growling55 voice, which had in it nothing surly or ill-tempered, but rather a kind of old and noble masculinity, an aristocratic kind of growl54 that seemed perfectly adjusted to a kind of Pendennis-like language, a “Dammit-all,-sir,-it’s-not-the-fellow’s-drinking-that-I-mind,-it’s-only-that-he’s-proved-himself-incapable-of-holding-his-liquor-like-a-gentleman” kind of voice.
The inference was warranted: even as they stood there in a spacious56, airy big room, the guests standing57 and talking in groups, drinking small glasses of a fine dry sherry, the youth could hear Joel’s eager whispering voice engaged in earnest, but respectful, debate, with his leonine grand-sire, and Mr. Joel’s nobly growled58 out answers. The conversation was about books — about the artist’s right to use the materials of his own experience and conversation — and it hinged particularly upon a certain book in which the writer had apparently59 made use of personal letters and private documents that people he knew, a woman chiefly, had written him.
“No, sir,” Mr. Joel growled, “I do not care what the circumstances may be or what the nature of the work. If I had a friend, sir, who would deliberately60 make public letters which a woman had written him, why, sir, I should drop him from my acquaintance — I should be forced to conclude, sir,”— here the old growling voice fell to an ominous62 whisper of irrevocable judgment63, and he looked out at his grandson with a fierce glint of his old eyes under bushy brows —“I should be forced to conclude, sir, that he was nothing but a cad,” old Mr. Joel whispered, and with a suddenly fierce glint of his old eyes, a sudden movement of his leonine head, he growled out in a low and savage64 tone: “And I should tell him so, sir. I should be compelled to tell him that he was nothing but a cad!”
“Yes, grandfather,” Joel whispered eagerly, his thin figure bent forward in an attitude of devoted and attentive65 reverence66 —“But after ALL, some pretty great people have done it — Rousseau did it, and The Confessions67 are pretty great, you know — You’ve got to admit that. — And Byron did it in his poems — at least, everyone knew whom he was talking about, and then there was De Musset and George Sand.”
“It makes no difference, sir,” growled Mr. Joel implacably, “it makes no difference who they were or how great they may be considered in the realm of art, or how great the work they did may be-if I knew a man who did a thing like that, I should be forced to consider him a low cad — no matter how great a poet or a writer, or how great his work might be-I should consider him a cad — and”— his old growling voice fell to a whisper of boding68 and implacable judgment —“I should tell him so, sir. I should let him know that I considered him a cad.”
Such was Joel’s grandsire, Mr. Joel, and surely he was a specimen69 of which any group or class could well be proud: of all that Hudson River aristocracy he was justly venerated70 and esteemed71 as one of its noblest and proudest adornments. He had lived a long, honourable73, and successful life; and now in his old age he had retired74 to the bosom75 of his paternal76 earth to spend his last years in dignity and simple ease and in calm but fruitful reflection on his rich experience. He was writing a book, and in advance it could be solemnly averred77 that he would make no use in it of any letters that a woman ever wrote to him.
What man, therefore, could speak with greater weight about the duties, codes and principles of man? What man was better qualified78 to know the rules of honour and the standards of a gentleman — and to assert a truth that might have gone unnoticed by a person of a baser spirit and a lower quality — that Rousseau was a scoundrel and De Musset and Lord Byron a couple of low cads —“because, sir, they made public letters that a woman wrote them.”
It was indeed delightful to find such Thackerayan gallantry, such Olympian scorn for knavish79 genius and for the lives of mighty80 poets dead and gone who illuminated81 mankind with their radiance but had their own light put out — must dwell for evermore “a couple of low cads,” in outer darkness, never again to be received, acknowledged, given gracious pardon by the chivalric82 flower of the Hudson River rich. How wretched that stern judgment must have made Rousseau! What bitter news for Byron! What misery83 for De Musset!
But now a woman servant entered and announced that lunch was served. The chattering84 groups of people turned and formed instinctively85, and by a kind of native respect, into files of deferential87 waiting, until Mr. Joel had passed. He led the way, a grand and leonine old man, superbly garmented in a coat of soft, rich blue, wide loose white flannels, wound at the waist by a great sash of yellow silk — an adornment72 that seemed in no way inappropriate but superbly fitting the noble dignity of the old man.
At the door he paused and stood aside, with a grizzled majesty88 of courtesy, for his wife and the other ladies of the group to pass. Then he entered the dining-room, followed by his grandson and the other young men. The dining-room was another light, spacious, and graciously beautiful room in the old New England style: through the open windows one saw the deep green and gold of trees and flowers in the embowered magic of the setting, and the fragrance89 of sweet drowsy90 air breathed on the curtains and flowed through the room.
The snowy table had a great bowl of fresh-cut wood flowers in the centre: the food was also native, plain old American, and superbly cooked: there was a thick pea-soup, fried chicken, plump and tender, done superbly to a juicy, delicately encrusted brown: there were candied sweet potatoes, string beans, cooked the Southern way with the succulent sweet seasoning91 of pork, stewed92 golden corn, and creamy mashed93 potatoes, a deep smooth gravy94, rich and brown and thick, sliced tomatoes and sliced cucumbers, no alcoholic95 beverages96, but iced tea, cold and tall and fragrant97 in high tinkling98 glasses rimed with ice, flaky biscuits, smoking hot, and for dessert, fresh apple-pie, hot and crusty, hued99 with cinnamon and flanked by thick fresh squares of pungent100 yellow cheese.
It was, in short, a plain but wholesome101 and most appetizing meal, completely American in its flavour and abundance, and superbly cooked, most fitting to this house; the simple green and natural, casual beauty of the place, the life, the people, the homely gracious hospitality of democracy.
It is true, the meal was also rather Southern in its cooking and its quality — a fact that was not surprising, however, when one remembered that Mr. Joel’s present wife had been a famous Southern belle102 from the blue-grass region of Kentucky.
One not only remembered this fact, it was difficult for one not to remember it; Mrs. Joel herself made her romantic origins evident. Although she was a woman in her early sixties with white hair, she was still remarkably103 preserved, and her manners, graces, dimpled smiles, her roguish glances and her languishing104 soft drawl were still the familiar stock-intrade of the Dixieland coquette.
She was certainly what is called “a fine figure of a woman”; her figure was tall, spacious, amply proportioned, her face, although beginning to show the signs of age — a slightly wrinkled plumpness like the skin of a full but slightly withered105 apple — was still almost as soft and white and tender as a child’s: she had almost all her natural teeth and they were white and pearly, her hands were white and plump and fine, her voice had the refined and throaty burble that is familiar in the majestic106 American female of the upper crust, and she dimpled beautifully when she smiled.
It was rather uncomfortably evident at once that there was a strong, if suppressed, hostility107 between Mrs. Joel and her step-daughter, Joel’s mother.
The struggle between the two was for the possession of something that neither of them any longer had — youth. Both were obviously enamoured of youth — of the freshness of youth, the warmth, the charm, the grace, the vitality108 of youth. Both hated the idea of growing old: both bitterly and desperately109 refused to admit the possibility of growing old. Mrs. Joel was able to cast over her soul a spell of hypnotic deception110, and by absurdly flaunting111 around the graces, airs and manners of a coquette, to convince herself that she was young and beautiful, able to enslave every man she met under the domination of her captivating charm.
And Mrs. Pierce felt bitterly that the older woman had had her day, that she should be willing to admit her years, gracefully submit, and take a back seat. This ugly rivalry112 was now apparent in almost everything they said, and gave everyone at the table a feeling of tension, embarrassment113 and discomfort114. Thus, Mrs. Joel, speaking to her step-daughter, and including the whole company, in a reference to Mrs. Pierce’s strenuous115 pursuit of youth, her grim devotion to youth’s figure and its vigorous gymnastics, now remarked in a tone of sugared venom116, a malicious117 gaiety of fine surprise:
“But really, I do, I think it’s the most astonishing thing to see a woman of your age take part in all these sports and games that only the YOUNG people of my generation played. . . . After all, if you were twenty — the age of Joel or this young man — I could understand it better — but at YOUR age, my dear,”— she drew a fine breath of astonishment118, “— really, I marvel119 that you don’t collapse120.”
“Do you?” said Mrs. Pierce, smiling her glacial and inflexible121 smile, and in a tone of cold, impassive irony122 —“I confess, Mother, I see nothing at all to marvel at. . . . Please set your mind at rest — I assure you I’m not in the slightest danger of collapse. . . . I can do everything,” she went on grandly, “that I could do at twenty — and I can do it better now, with less fatigue123 and greater skill. . . . I can hold my own with any of these young people around here, no matter what it is — whether swimming, golfing, playing tennis, or going for a walk. So you can save your sympathy, Mother,” she concluded with a laugh which seemed casual and friendly enough, but which showed plainly the hard inflexibility124 of her antagonism125, “— when I need your condolences I’ll let you know.”
“But, my DEAR,” said Mrs. Joel with sweet gushing126 malice127 —“I think it’s ma-a-rvellous! I only wonder how you do it at your age! . . . Why, no girl of my time and generation would have THOUGHT of doing all the things you do every day without turning a hair — Why!” she breathed, looking around her with an air of fine amazement128, “I hear Ida plays FIVE sets before breakfast every morning and thinks nothing of it — but in MY day and time, if a girl — a YOUNG girl, mind you — played a SINGLE set — she’d be positively129 exhausted130 — done up for a week.”
“Perhaps, Mother,” Mrs. Pierce coolly suggested, “that is why the young girls of your time were such a soft and grubby lot — and why they turned out to be such dowdy131 frumps later on.”
Mrs. Joel’s dimpled smile did not lose a single atom of its saccharine132 benevolence133, nor did her voice alter by a shade its honeyed drip, but for a moment something bright and adder-like passed across her eyes, and she gave her step-daughter a swift and poisonous glance that would have done credit to a snake. “— And then, of course,” she went on sweetly, taking the young men at the table into her confidence with her dimpled smile —“we had such old-fashioned notions in those days, too — you boys, I know, would be amused if you could know what some of our quaint61 notions were — but — hah! hah! hah!”— she laughed a gay and silvery little laugh of envenomed hatred134, “— my dear,” she said to Joel, “— you’ll have to laugh when I tell you — but do you know it was actually considered IMMODEST— UNWOMANLY— for a young girl of my time to take part in sports — COMPETE in sports — against men — and as for a woman of Ida’s age doing it — why, it was UNTHINKABLE! UNHEARD of! — a middle-aged135 woman,” she pronounced the words with obvious relish136 and for a moment there was a swift hard flexion of the muscles in Mrs. Pierce’s jaw137 —“but a middle-aged woman in MY day who had attempted such a thing would have been OSTRACIZED— an OUTCAST— decent people would have had nothing to do with her!”
“Yes, I know, Mother,” Mrs. Pierce said with a swift and glacial urbanity. “We’ve all heard about that — I think it’s generally conceded now by most intelligent people that women of that generation were a pretty worthless, dull and barbarous lot.”
“Ah-hah-hah!” Mrs. Joel laughed sweetly, and dimpled at her best — “TERRIBLY old-fashioned, of course — but,” she turned graciously to her grandson’s young guest and lavished138 on him her most dimpled smile — “FRIGHTFULLY amusing, don’t you think?”
He reddened like a beet140, looked helplessly at the two contesting women, craned his neck nervously141 along the edges of his collar, and finally said nothing.
Joel relieved the painful situation with his swift whispering grace of tact142 and kindliness143. “But really, Granny,” he whispered courteously144 and eagerly, “— Mums is awfully145 good at it, she really is. . . . She can beat me two sets out of three in tennis, and give me ten strokes in golf — and when it comes to SWIMMING—”
“Oh,” said little Howard Martin in his mincing146, languishing, and effeminate tone —“she’s ma-a-rvellous! . . . Ida,” he gushed147, in a kind of over-ripe ecstasy148 —“your diving is simply divine! . . . If you could only show me — oh-h,” he said, with gushing effeminacy — “if you could only teach ME how you do it — but it’s SIMPLY perfect — MARVELLOUS—”
The meal now proceeded more smoothly149. Mr. Joel seemed to take small notice of the feud150 between the two women — his daughter and his wife — he talked to Joel, Rosalind, and to the other young men in his grand growling way, expressed his opinion on the candidacies of Davis and Coolidge, and said he would vote for Davis.
“If John Davis gets in,” said Mrs. Pierce with that positive worldly assurance that characterized her opinions, “Charles Dana Gibson will get the ambassadorship to England — oh, but THAT’S settled!” she said positively, “I happen to know that Dana Gibson can have the ambassadorship any time he wants it —”
“Providing Davis gets elected,” Joel whispered, laughing. Turning to his grandfather, he whispered respectfully, “What do you think, Grandfather? Do you think that Davis will get in?”
“No, sir,” Mr. Joel growled, “I do not. I think his chances of getting elected are VERY slight — unless some sudden upheaval151 turns the tide in his direction before election day.”
“And whom will you vote for, sir?” Joel whispered.
“I shall vote for Davis, sir,” growled Mr. Joel. “I have known him for many years, he is a very able lawyer, a very ABLE man — but, sir,”— his old growling voice sank to a whisper, and he peered out fiercely from under his grizzled eyebrows at his grandson —“his chances of election are very slight indeed. I should not be surprised to see Coolidge win by a land-slide.”
“Did you hear what Alice Longworth said about him?” said Mrs. Pierce laughing, “— that he looked as if he had been weaned upon a pickle152.”
Everyone laughed, even Mr. Joel joining with a kind of growling chuckle153. As for Joel, he bent double, radiantly, gleefully convulsed with soundless laughter, snapping his fingers softly as he did so. His own humorous invention was not fertile, but his love of a good story — particularly when his mother or one of his friends told it, or quoted one of their own group — was enthusiastic. Now for a moment he bent double with this convulsed, whispering laughter: when he recovered somewhat he said softly and slowly:
“SIMPLY swell . . . Gosh!” he whispered admiringly. “What a wit she’s got! It’s a swell story,” he whispered.
“By the way, Ida,” Mr. Joel growled, tugging154 at his short and grizzled moustache, “how is Frank? Have you been over to see them, lately?”
“Yes, Father,” she answered, “we drove over last Tuesday and spent the evening with them. . . . He looks very well,” she added, in answer to his question, “but, of COURSE,” she said decisively, “he’s NEVER going to be any better — they all say as much —”
“Hm,” old Mr. Joel growled, tugged155 reflectively at his short and grizzled moustache for a moment longer, and then said: “Has he been taking any part in the campaign this summer?”
“Very little,” she answered —“of course, the man has gone through hell these last few years — he’s suffered agonies! He seems a little better now, but”— her voice rose again on its tone of booming finality as she shook her head —“he’ll never get back the use of his legs again — the man is a PERMANENT cripple,” she said positively —“there’s no getting around it — and he himself is reconciled to it.”
“Hm,” growled old Mr. Joel again, as he tugged at his short moustache —“Pity! Nice fellow, Frank! Always liked him! . . . A little on the flashy order, maybe — like all his family . . . too easy-going, too agreeable . . . but great ability! . . . Pity!”
“Yes, isn’t it!” Joel whispered with soft eager sympathy. “And, Grandfather,” he went on with an eager enthusiasm, “— his charm is SIMPLY stupendous! . . . I’ve never known anything like it! . . . The moment that he speaks to you he makes you his friend for ever — and he KNOWS so much — he has such interesting things to say — really, the amount he knows is SIMPLY stupendous!”
“Hm, yes,” old Mr. Joel agreed with a consenting growl, as he tugged thoughtfully at his grizzled grey moustache, “— but a little superficial, too. . . . The whole lot is like that . . . go hell-for-leather at everything for three weeks at a time — and then forget it. . . . Still,” he muttered, “ . . . an able fellow — very able. . . . Pity this thing had to happen to him just at the start of his career.”
“Still, Father,” Mrs. Pierce put in, “— don’t you think he’d gone about as far as he was going when this thing hit him? . . . I mean, of course, he IS a charming person — everyone agrees on that. I never knew a man with more native charm than Frank — But for all his charm, don’t you think there’s something rather weak in his character? . . . Do you think he would have had the stamina156 and determination to go much further if this disease hadn’t forced him to retire?”
“Um,” Mr. Joel growled, as he tugged thoughtfully at his short cropped moustache. “ . . . Hard to say. . . . Hard to tell what would have happened to him. . . . A little soft, perhaps, but great ability . . . great charm . . . and great opportunists, everyone of them. . . . Have instinctive86 genius for seizing on the moment when it comes. . . . Never know what’s going to happen to a man like that —”
“Well,” said Mrs. Pierce, politely, but with an accent of conviction —“he might have kept on going — but I think he was through — that he’d gone as far as he could — I don’t think he could have stood the gaff — I don’t believe he had it in him.”
“Um,” Mr. Joel growled, “perhaps you’re right. . . . But great pity just the same. . . . Always liked Frank. . . . Very able fellow —”
The conversation proceeded in these channels for some time, the guests discussing politics, ambassadorships, using the names of the great and celebrated157 people of the earth with the casual and familiar intimacy158 of people talking about lifelong friends whom they had last seen at dinner Tuesday evening. It was the “inside” of the great world of wealth and fame and fashion — the world that the youth had read and heard about all his life — but that he had thought about, had visioned, as Olympus, mantled159 in celestial160 clouds, and for ever remote from the intruding161 gaze of common men. Now, to hear these great names, these celestial personages, bandied about on the tip of the tongue just as familiarly as one spoke of one’s own friends — to hear these people speak of the habits, the health, the conversation, and the personal home-life of this august parliament in just the same way that people spoke of their friends, acquaintances and familiars the whole world over, gave the youth a sense of living in a dream, of hearing incredible things — things incredible because of their very casual familiarity — of being the witness of an incredible event.
In this way, the meal drew to its close: Mrs. Pierce and her step-mother managed to avoid further friction162, although once it threatened, when Mrs. Pierce, observing the retreating figure of one of the maid-servants — a robust163 and plain-featured countrywoman of middle age — noticed from the cropped and unnaturally164 white texture165 of her neck and skull166 that her hair had been cut, “bobbed” in the fashion that was to grow so popular and that was just then coming into style, and turned and questioned her step-mother about it:
“What has happened to that woman’s hair, Mother?” she said. “What did she do to it?”
“Why,” cried Mrs. Joel eagerly, beginning to beam and dimple around at her guests with an air of delighted satisfaction —“I had it cut off.”
“YOU had it cut off?” cried Mrs. Pierce in an astounded tone.
“Why, yes, my dear,” chirped167 Mrs. Joel eagerly, “I sent all the girls into the village one morning last week and had the barber cut their hair.”
“WHAT!” Mrs. Pierce boomed out in an astounded tone, and then sank back against her chair, and for a moment returned her son’s stare incredulously, “you mean you herded168 all these girls together and WHACKED169 their hair off at one stroke?”
“Why, of course, my dear,” said Mrs. Joel eagerly, in a rather excited and disturbed tone, “— or rather, I told them that they’d have to do it — that that was what I wanted.”
“What YOU wanted?” Mrs. Pierce boomed out in the same astounded and incredulous tone.
“Why, yes”— Mrs. Joel rushed on eagerly, excitedly, taking the whole table in now with a look of beaming explanation. “— You see, I had the whole house done over this spring — redecorated — I told the decorator the EFFECT I wanted,” she said gushingly170 —“I told him everything must be done for — for — LIGHTNESS!” she said triumphantly171, “— COOLNESS! . . . to do everything in light cool colours . . . get THAT effect. . . . So last week,” she went on happily, “when we had that spell of FRIGHTFUL139 hot weather, I noticed suddenly how — how HOT— and disagreeable all the girls looked with their long hair — how — how OUT OF PLACE,” she said triumphantly, “they looked in this new scheme of things. . . . Ugh,” she shuddered173 with a little gesture of discomfort and distaste, “— the very SIGHT of them made me uncomfortable — I couldn’t BEAR them! So all of a sudden it occurred to me how nice it would be-how much it would improve the — the — the general ATMOSPHERE of the whole house if I made them bob their hair. . . . So,” she concluded, beaming around at everyone with dimpled satisfaction —“that’s how I came to do it — I called them all together one morning last week — Friday, I think it was — and told them what I wanted — and then sent them all into the village to get it done.”
There was a moment’s pause while Mrs. Joel beamed at her guests with a dimpled smile of triumphant172 finality that seemed to say — “There! Behold174 my work and marvel at it! That is the way the thing was done.” Her obvious satisfaction was suddenly disturbed, however, by Mrs. Pierce, who, after staring at her in astounded silence for a moment, boomed out incredulously:
“MOTHER! You KNOW you didn’t do a thing like THAT!”
“But — but, of course I did it, Ida,” Mrs. Joel returned in a surprised and nettled175 tone of voice —“That’s what I’m telling you. . . . What’s the matter with it? . . . Don’t you think the girls look nice?”
“I— think,” said Mrs. Pierce slowly, after a moment’s stunned reflection —“I— think — that — is — the — most — preposterous176 — the — most — highhanded — the — most — GOD!” she cried, and throwing her head back she fairly made the room ring with her hearty177, booming, and astonished laughter: “I’ve heard of Catherine the Great and Marie Antoinette and the days of the Medicis — and the things they did — but I never thought I’d live to see the day their methods were adopted here in free America — Why! hah! hah! hah! hah! hah!” she fell back in her chair and fairly rocked with booming and incredulous laughter —“WHACKING the hair off those eight girls at one fell stroke because — because —” her voice choked speechlessly — “because it made you HOT to look at them . . . because — because,” her voice rose to a rich choked scream and presently she said in an almost inaudible squeak178 —“because she’s had the house — REDECORATED,” she panted —“Why, MOTHER!” she cried strongly at last, her shoulders shaking, and her face still red with laughter, “— the King of Siam is not in it compared to you — you make absolute tyranny look like free democracy — hah! hah! hah! hah! hah! — Strike off their heads!” cried Mrs. Pierce, “— the very SIGHT of them makes me perspire179!” And leaning back again she surrendered herself to free, ringing, and whole-hearted laughter, in which everyone save Mrs. Joel joined. When the laughter had somewhat subsided180, Mrs. Joel, her plump white cheeks red with open anger, cried out in a furious voice:
“I don’t agree with you! . . . I don’t agree with you at all. . . . And I must say it seems very stupid of you, Ida, to take such a childish point of view.”
“Childish!” Mrs. Pierce cried in a challenging tone, “you’re the one who’s childish! . . . If I did a thing like that to MY girls — if I for one moment thought I had a right to take such liberties as that with other people, I’d feel like a fool! . . . Why, Mother,” she cried in a strong protesting tone, “wake up! . . . What kind of a world do you live in, anyway? . . . Whatever gave you the notion that you have a right to do things like that to other people — and all because you’re fortunate enough to be able to keep servants and pay them wages. . . . Wake up! Wake up!” she cried in a tone of almost furious indignation, “— You’re not living in the Dark Ages, Mother. . . . Slavery has been abolished! . . . This is the twentieth century! . . . Why, it’s absurd!” she cried scornfully, and with two spots of angry colour in her cheeks —“the most arrogant181 and high-handed thing I ever heard in all my life — The whole thing’s preposterous — I only hope that no one hears about it.”
“If you feel that way about it,” Mrs. Joel began in a voice choked with fury — and at this moment Joel came to the rescue and saved what really threatened to develop into an ugly, open, painful quarrel between the two women —
“Oh, but Granny,” he whispered —“I’m sure the girls don’t mind a bit! . . . And they look MUCH nicer — and MUCH cooler — without their hair than when they had it — I’m sure they feel that way about it, too.”
“Well,” Mrs. Joel began, still very angry but somewhat placated182 by her grandson’s tactful intervention183 —“I’m glad to see that someone still has a little common sense.”
And in this way the trouble was finally smoothed out by Joel’s quick diplomacy184, and the guests, eager to avert185 another painful scene between the two women, rose to go. And it was in this way that they departed, not without a final explosion of booming and astounded laughter from Mrs. Pierce as she walked out towards her car, a final hilarious186 reference to “redecoration,” and the King of Siam, and the modern prototype of Catherine the Great.
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1
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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wincing
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的现在分词 ) | |
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3
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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voluptuousness
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| n.风骚，体态丰满 | |
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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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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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8
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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11
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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12
watchfulness
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| 警惕，留心； 警觉（性） | |
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13
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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14
alignment
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| n.队列；结盟，联合 | |
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15
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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16
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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17
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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18
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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19
jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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20
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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21
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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22
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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23
solicitous
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| adj.热切的，挂念的 | |
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24
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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25
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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26
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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27
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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28
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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29
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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30
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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31
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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32
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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33
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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34
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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35
frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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37
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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38
doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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39
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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41
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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42
flannels
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| 法兰绒男裤； 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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43
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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44
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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45
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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46
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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48
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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49
maples
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| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
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50
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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51
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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52
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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53
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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54
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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55
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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56
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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57
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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58
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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59
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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60
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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61
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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62
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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63
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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64
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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65
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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66
reverence
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| 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 | |
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67
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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68
boding
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| adj.凶兆的，先兆的n.凶兆，前兆，预感v.预示，预告，预言( bode的现在分词 )；等待，停留( bide的过去分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待 | |
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69
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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70
venerated
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| 敬重（某人或某事物），崇敬( venerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
esteemed
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| adj.受人尊敬的v.尊敬( esteem的过去式和过去分词 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
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72
adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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73
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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74
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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75
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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76
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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77
averred
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| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
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78
qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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79
knavish
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| adj.无赖（似）的，不正的；刁诈 | |
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80
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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81
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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82
chivalric
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| 有武士气概的，有武士风范的 | |
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83
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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84
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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85
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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86
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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87
deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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88
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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89
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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90
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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91
seasoning
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| n.调味；调味料；增添趣味之物 | |
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92
stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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93
mashed
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| a.捣烂的 | |
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94
gravy
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| n.肉汁；轻易得来的钱，外快 | |
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95
alcoholic
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| adj.（含）酒精的，由酒精引起的；n.酗酒者 | |
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96
beverages
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| n.饮料( beverage的名词复数 ) | |
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97
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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98
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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hued
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| 有某种色调的 | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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101
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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102
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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103
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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104
languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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105
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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106
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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107
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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108
vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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109
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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110
deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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111
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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112
rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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113
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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114
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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115
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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116
venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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117
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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118
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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119
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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120
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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121
inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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123
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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124
inflexibility
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| n.不屈性，顽固，不变性；不可弯曲；非挠性；刚性 | |
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125
antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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126
gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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127
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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128
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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129
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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130
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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131
dowdy
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| adj.不整洁的；过旧的 | |
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132
saccharine
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| adj.奉承的，讨好的 | |
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133
benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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134
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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135
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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136
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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137
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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138
lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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140
beet
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| n.甜菜；甜菜根 | |
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141
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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142
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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143
kindliness
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| n.厚道，亲切，友好的行为 | |
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144
courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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145
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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146
mincing
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| adj.矫饰的；v.切碎；切碎 | |
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gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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148
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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150
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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upheaval
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| n.胀起，(地壳)的隆起；剧变，动乱 | |
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152
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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153
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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154
tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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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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156
stamina
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| n.体力；精力；耐力 | |
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157
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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158
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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159
mantled
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| 披着斗篷的，覆盖着的 | |
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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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161
intruding
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| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的现在分词)；把…强加于 | |
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162
friction
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| n.摩擦，摩擦力 | |
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163
robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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165
texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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166
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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167
chirped
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的过去式 ) | |
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168
herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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169
whacked
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| a.精疲力尽的 | |
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170
gushingly
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171
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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172
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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173
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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174
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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175
nettled
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| v.拿荨麻打，拿荨麻刺（nettle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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176
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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177
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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178
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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179
perspire
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| vi.出汗，流汗 | |
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180
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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181
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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182
placated
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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183
intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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184
diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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185
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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186
hilarious
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| adj.充满笑声的，欢闹的；[反]depressed | |
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