The sisters had an early supper together in Constance's bedroom. Constance was much easier. Having a fancy that a little movement would be beneficial, she had even got up for a few moments and moved about the room. Now she sat ensconced in pillows. A fire burned in the old-fashioned ineffectual grate. From the Sun Vaults1 opposite came the sound of a phonograph singing an invitation to God to save its gracious queen. This phonograph was a wonderful novelty, and filled the Sun nightly. For a few evenings it had interested the sisters, in spite of themselves, but they had soon sickened of it and loathed2 it. Sophia became more and more obsessed3 by the monstrous4 absurdity5 of the simple fact that she and Constance were there, in that dark inconvenient6 house, wearied by the gaiety of public-houses, blackened by smoke, surrounded by mud, instead of being luxuriously7 installed in a beautiful climate, amid scenes of beauty and white cleanliness. Secretly she became more and more indignant.
Amy entered, bearing a letter in her coarse hand. As Amy unceremoniously handed the letter to Constance, Sophia thought: "If she was my servant she would hand letters on a tray." (An advertisement had already been sent to the Signal.)
Constance took the letter trembling. "Here it is at last," she cried.
When she had put on her spectacles and read it, she exclaimed:
"Bless us! Here's news! He's coming down! That's why he didn't write on Saturday as usual."
She gave the letter to Sophia to read. It ran--
"Sunday midnight.
"DEAR MOTHER,
"Just a line to say I am coming down to Bursley on Wednesday, on business with Peels. I shall get to Knype at 5.28, and take the Loop. I've been very busy, and as I was coming down I didn't write on Saturday. I hope you didn't worry. Love to yourself and Aunt Sophia.
"Yours, C."
"I must send him a line," said Constance, excitedly.
"What? To-night?"
"Yes. Amy can easily catch the last post with it. Otherwise he won't know that I've got his letter."
She rang the bell.
Sophia thought: "His coming down is really no excuse for his not writing on Saturday. How could she guess that he was coming down? I shall have to put in a little word to that young man. I wonder Constance is so blind. She is quite satisfied now that his letter has come." On behalf of the elder generation she rather resented Constance's eagerness to write in answer.
But Constance was not so blind. Constance thought exactly as Sophia thought. In her heart she did not at all justify8 or excuse Cyril. She remembered separately almost every instance of his carelessness in her regard. "Hope I didn't worry, indeed!" she said to herself with a faint touch of bitterness, apropos9 of the phrase in his letter.
Nevertheless she insisted on writing at once. And Amy had to bring the writing materials.
"Mr. Cyril is coming down on Wednesday," she said to Amy with great dignity.
Amy's stony10 calmness was shaken, for Mr. Cyril was a great deal to Amy. Amy wondered how she would be able to look Mr. Cyril in the face when he knew that she had given notice.
In the middle of writing, on her knee, Constance looked up at Sophia, and said, as though defending herself against an accusation11: "I didn't write to him yesterday, you know, or to- day."
"No," Sophia murmured assentingly.
Constance rang the bell yet again, and Amy was sent out to the post.
Soon afterwards the bell was rung for a fourth time, and not answered.
"I suppose she hasn't come back yet. But I thought I heard the door. What a long time she is!"
"What do you want?" Sophia asked.
"I just want to speak to her," said Constance.
When the bell had been rung seven or eight times, Amy at length re-appeared, somewhat breathless.
"Amy," said Constance, "let me examine those sheets, will you?"
"Yes'm," said Amy, apparently12 knowing what sheets, of all the various and multitudinous sheets in that house.
"And the pillow-cases," Constance added as Amy left the room.
So it continued. The next day the fever heightened. Constance was up early, before Sophia, and trotting13 about the house like a girl. Immediately after breakfast Cyril's bedroom was invested and revolutionized; not till evening was order restored in that chamber14. And on the Wednesday morning it had to be dusted afresh. Sophia watched the preparations, and the increasing agitation15 of Constance's demeanour, with an astonishment16 which she had real difficulty in concealing17. "Is the woman absolutely mad?" she asked herself. The spectacle was ludicrous: or it seemed so to Sophia, whose career had not embraced much experience of mothers. It was not as if the manifestations18 of Constance's anxiety were dignified19 or original or splendid. They were just silly, ordinary fussinesses; they had no sense in them. Sophia was very careful to make no observation. She felt that before she and Constance were very much older she had a very great deal to do, and that a subtle diplomacy20 and wary21 tactics would be necessary. Moreover, Constance's angelic temper was slightly affected22 by the strain of expectation. She had a tendency to rasp. After the high-tea was set she suddenly sprang on to the sofa and lifted down the 'Stag at Eve' engraving23. The dust on the top of the frame incensed24 her.
"What are you going to do?" Sophia asked, in a final marvel25.
"I'm going to change it with that one," said Constance, pointing to another engraving opposite the fireplace. "He said the effect would be very much better if they were changed. And his lordship is very particular."
Constance did not go to Bursley station to meet her son. She explained that it upset her to do so, and that also Cyril preferred her not to come.
"Suppose I go to meet him," said Sophia, at half-past five. The idea had visited her suddenly. She thought: "Then I could talk to him before any one else."
"Oh, do!" Constance agreed.
Sophia put her things on with remarkable26 expedition. She arrived at the station a minute before the train came in. Only a few persons emerged from the train, and Cyril was not among them. A porter said that there was not supposed to be any connection between the Loop Line trains and the main line expresses, and that probably the express had missed the Loop. She waited thirty-five minutes for the next Loop, and Cyril did not emerge from that train either.
Constance opened the front-door to her, and showed a telegram--
"Sorry prevented last moment. Writing. CYRIL."
Sophia had known it. Somehow she had known that it was useless to wait for the second train. Constance was silent and calm; Sophia also.
"What a shame! What a shame!" thumped27 Sophia's heart.
It was the most ordinary episode. But beneath her calm she was furious against her favourite. She hesitated.
"I'm just going out a minute," she said.
"Where?" asked Constance. "Hadn't we better have tea? I suppose we must have tea."
"I shan't be long. I want to buy something."
Sophia went to the post-office and despatched a telegram. Then, partially28 eased, she returned to the arid29 and painful desolation of the house.
收听单词发音 |
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vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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luxuriously
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| adv.奢侈地，豪华地 | |
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8
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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15
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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18
manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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19
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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20
diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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engraving
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| n.版画；雕刻（作品）；雕刻艺术；镌版术v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的现在分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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24
incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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25
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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26
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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27
thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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