章节正文
This theory being just as plausible as ours, we did not discuss it,
hoping that something would happen to decide the matter in one way
or another.
"She is not married, I am sure," went on Salemina, leaning over the
back of my chair. "You notice that she hasn't given a glance at the
kitchen or the range, although they are the most important features
of the house. I think she may have just put her head inside the
dining-room door, but she certainly didn't give a moment to the
butler's pantry or the china closet. You will find that she won't
mount to the fifth floor to see how the servants are housed,--not
she, careless, pretty creature; she will go straight to the drawing-
room."
And so she did; and at the same instant a still younger and prettier
creature drove up in a hansom, and was out of it almost before the
admiring cabby could stop his horse or reach down for his fare. She
flew up the stairway and danced into the drawing-room like a young
whirlwind; flung open doors, pulled up blinds with a jerk, letting
in the sunlight everywhere, and tiptoed to and fro over the dusty
floors, holding up her muslin flounces daintily.
"This must be the daughter of his first marriage," I remarked.
"Who will not get on with the young stepmother," finished Mr.
Beresford.
"It is his youngest daughter," corrected Salemina,--"the youngest
daughter of his only wife, and the image of her deceased mother, who
was, in her time, the belle of Dublin."
She might well have been that, we all agreed; for this young beauty
was quite the Irish type, such black hair, grey-blue eyes, and
wonderful lashes, and such a merry, arch, winsome face, that one
loved her on the instant.
She was delighted with the place, and we did not wonder, for the
sunshine, streaming in at the back and side windows, showed us rooms
of noble proportions opening into one another. She admired the
balcony, although we thought it too public to be of any use save for
flowering plants; she was pleased with a huge French mirror over the
marble mantle; she liked the chandeliers, which were in the worst
possible taste; all this we could tell by her expressive gestures;
and she finally seized the old gentleman by the lapels of his coat
and danced him breathlessly from the fireplace to the windows and
back again, while the elder girl clapped her hands and laughed.
"Isn't she lovely?" sighed Francesca, a little covetously, although
she is something of a beauty herself.
"I am sorry that her name is Bridget," said Mr. Beresford.
"For shame!" I cried indignantly. "It is Norah, or Veronica, or
Geraldine, or Patricia; yes, it is Patricia,--I know it as well as
if I had been at the christening.--Dawson, take the tea-things,
please; and do you know the name of the gentleman who has bought the
house on the opposite side?"
"It is Lord Brighton, miss." (You would never believe it, but we
find the name is spelled Brighthelmston.) "He hasn't bought the
'ouse; he has taken it for a week, and is giving a ball there on the
Tuesday evening. He has four daughters, miss, and two h'orphan
nieces that generally spends the season with 'im. It's the youngest
daughter he is bringing out, that lively one you saw cutting about
just now. They 'ave no ballroom, I expect, in their town 'ouse,
which accounts for their renting one for this occasion. They
stopped a month in this 'otel last year, so I have the honour of
m'luds acquaintance."
"Lady Brighthelmston is not living, I should judge," remarked
Salemina, in the tone of one who thinks it hardly worth while to
ask.
"Oh, yes, miss, she's alive and 'earty; but the daughters manages
everythink, and what they down't manage the h'orphan nieces does.
The 'ouse is run for the young ladies, but m'ludanlady seems to
enjoy it."
Dovermarle Street was so interesting during the next few days that
we could scarcely bear to leave it, lest something exciting should
happen in our absence.
"A ball is so confining!" said Francesca, who had come back from the
corner of Piccadilly to watch the unloading of a huge van, and found
that it had no intention of stopping at Number Nine on the opposite
side.
First came a small army of charwomen, who scrubbed the house from
top to bottom. Then came men with canvas for floors, bronzes and
jardinieres and somebody's family portraits from an auction-room,
chairs and sofas and draperies from an upholsterer's.
The night before the event itself I announced my intention of
staying in our own drawing-room the whole of the next day. "I am
more interested in Patricia's debut," I said, "than anything else
that can possibly happen in London. What if it should be wet, and
won't it be annoying if it is a cold night and they draw the heavy
curtains close together?"
But it was beautiful day, almost too warm for a ball, and the heavy
curtains were not drawn. The family did not court observation; it
was serenely unconscious of such a thing. As to our side of the
street, I think we may have been the only people at all interested
in the affair now so imminent. The others had something more
sensible to do, I fancy, than patching up romances about their
neighbours.
At noon the florists decorated the entrance with palms, covered the
balcony with a gay awning, and hung the railing with brilliant
masses of scarlet and yellow flowers. At two the caterers sent
silver, tables, linen, and dishes, and a Broadwood grand piano was
installed; but at half-past seven, when we sat down to dinner, we
were a trifleanxious, because so many things seemed yet to do
before the party could be a complete success.
Mr. Beresford and his mother were dining with us, and we had sent
invitations to our London friends, the Hon. Arthur Ponsonby and
Bertie Godolphin, to come later in the evening. These read as
follows:-
Private View
The pleasure of your company is requested
at the coming-out party of
The Hon. Patricia Brighthelmston
July --- 189-
On the opposite side of the street.
Dancing about 10-30. 9 Dovermarle Street.
At eight o'clock, as we were finishing our fish course, which
chanced to be fried sole, the ball began literally to roll, and it
required the greatest ingenuity on Francesca's part and mine to be
always down in our seats when Dawson entered with the dishes, and
always at the window when he was absent.
An enormous van had appeared, with half a dozen men walking behind
it. In a trice, two of them had stretched a wire trellis across one
wall of the drawing-room, and two more were trailing roses from
floor to ceiling. Others tied the dark wood of the stair railing
with tall Madonna lilies; then they hung garlands of flowers from
corner to corner and, alas! could not refrain from framing the
mirror in smilax, nor from hanging the chandeliers with that same
ugly, funereal, and artificial-looking vine,--this idea being the
principal stock-in-trade of every florist in the universe.
We could not catch even a glimpse of the supper-rooms, but we saw a
man in the fourth story front room filling dozens of little glass
vases, each with its single malmaison, rose, or camellia, and
despatching them by an assistant to another part of the house; so we
could imagine from this the scheme of decoration at the tables.--No,
not new, perhaps, but simple and effective.
By the time we had finished our entree, which happened to be lamb
cutlets and green peas, and had begun our roast, which was chicken
and ham, I remember, they had put wreaths at all the windows, hung
Japanese lanterns on the balcony and in the oak-tree, and
transformed the house into a blossoming bower.
At this exciting juncture Dawson entered unexpectedly with our
sweet, and for the first and only time caught us literally 'red-
handed.' Let British subjects be interested in their neighbours, if
they will (and when they refrain I am convinced that it is as much
indifference as good breeding), but let us never bring our country
into disrepute with an English butler! As there was not a single
person at the table when Dawson came in, we were obliged to say that
we had finished dinner, thank you, and would take coffee; no sweet
to-night, thank you.
Willie Beresford was the only one who minded, but he rather likes
cherry tart. It simply chanced to be cherry tart, for our cook at
Smith's Private Hotel is a person of unbridled fancy and endless
repertory. She sometimes, for example, substitutes rhubarb for
cherry tart quite out of her own head; and when balked of both these
dainties, and thrown absolutely on her own boundless resources, will
create a dish of stewed green gooseberries and a companion piece of
liquidcustard. These unrelated concoctions, when eaten at the same
moment, as is her intention, always remind me of the lying down
together of the lion and the lamb, and the scheme is well-nigh as
dangerous, under any other circumstances than those of the digestive
millennium. I tremble to think what would ensue if all the rhubarb
and gooseberry bushes in England should be uprooted in a single
night. I believe that thousands of cooks, those not possessed of
families or Christian principles, would drown themselves in the
Thames forthwith, but that is neither here nor there, and the
Honourable Arthur denies it. He says, "Why commitsuicide? Ain't
there currants?"
I had forgotten to say that we ourselves were all en grande
toilette, down to satin slippers, feeling somehow that it was the
only proper thing to do; and when Dawson had cleared the table and
ushered in the other visitors, we ladies took our coffee and the men
their cigarettes to the three front windows, which were open as
usual to our balcony.
We seated ourselves there quite casually, as is our custom, somewhat
hidden by the lace draperies and potted hydrangeas, and whatever we
saw was to be seen by any passer-by, save that we held the key to
the whole story, and had made it our own by right of conquest.
Just at this moment--it was quarter-past nine, although it was still
bright daylight--came a little procession of servants who
disappeared within the doors, and, as they donned caps and aprons,
would now and then reappear at the windows. Presently the supper
arrived. We did not know the number of invited guests (there are
some things not even revealed to the Wise Woman), but although we
were a triflenervous about the amount of eatables, we were quite
certain that there would be no dearth of liquid refreshment.
Contemporaneously with the supper came a four-wheeler with a man and
a woman in it.
Sal. "I wonder if that is Lord and Lady Brighthelmston?"
Mrs. B. "Nonsense, my dear; look at the woman's dress."
W.B. "It is probably the butler, and I have a premonition that that
is good old Nurse with him. She has been with family ever since the
birth of the first daughter twenty-four years ago. Look at her cap
ribbons; note the fit of the stiff black silk over her comfortable
shoulders; you can almost hear her creak in it!"
B.G. "My eye! but she's one to keep the goody-pot open for the
youngsters! She'll be the belle of the ball so far as I'm
concerned."
Fran. "It's impossible to tell whether it's the butler or
paterfamilias. Yes, it's the butler, for he has taken off his coat
and is looking at the flowers with the florist's assistant."
B.G. "And the florist's assistant is getting slated like one
o'clock! The butler doesn't like the rum design over the piano; no
more do I. Whatever is the matter with them now?"
They were standing with their faces towards us, gesticulating wildly
about something on the front wall of the drawing-room; a place quite
hidden from our view. They could not decide the matter, although
the butler intimated that it would quite ruin the ball, while the
assistant mopped his brow and threw all the blame on somebody else.
Nurse came in, and hated whatever it was the moment her eye fell on
it. She couldn't think how anybody could abide it, and was of the
hoping that something would happen to decide the matter in one way
or another.
"She is not married, I am sure," went on Salemina, leaning over the
back of my chair. "You notice that she hasn't given a glance at the
kitchen or the range, although they are the most important features
of the house. I think she may have just put her head inside the
dining-room door, but she certainly didn't give a moment to the
butler's pantry or the china closet. You will find that she won't
mount to the fifth floor to see how the servants are housed,--not
she, careless, pretty creature; she will go straight to the drawing-
room."
And so she did; and at the same instant a still younger and prettier
creature drove up in a hansom, and was out of it almost before the
admiring cabby could stop his horse or reach down for his fare. She
flew up the stairway and danced into the drawing-room like a young
whirlwind; flung open doors, pulled up blinds with a jerk, letting
in the sunlight everywhere, and tiptoed to and fro over the dusty
floors, holding up her muslin flounces daintily.
"This must be the daughter of his first marriage," I remarked.
"Who will not get on with the young stepmother," finished Mr.
Beresford.
"It is his youngest daughter," corrected Salemina,--"the youngest
daughter of his only wife, and the image of her deceased mother, who
was, in her time, the belle of Dublin."
She might well have been that, we all agreed; for this young beauty
was quite the Irish type, such black hair, grey-blue eyes, and
wonderful lashes, and such a merry, arch, winsome face, that one
loved her on the instant.
She was delighted with the place, and we did not wonder, for the
sunshine, streaming in at the back and side windows, showed us rooms
of noble proportions opening into one another. She admired the
balcony, although we thought it too public to be of any use save for
flowering plants; she was pleased with a huge French mirror over the
marble mantle; she liked the chandeliers, which were in the worst
possible taste; all this we could tell by her expressive gestures;
and she finally seized the old gentleman by the lapels of his coat
and danced him breathlessly from the fireplace to the windows and
back again, while the elder girl clapped her hands and laughed.
"Isn't she lovely?" sighed Francesca, a little covetously, although
she is something of a beauty herself.
"I am sorry that her name is Bridget," said Mr. Beresford.
"For shame!" I cried indignantly. "It is Norah, or Veronica, or
Geraldine, or Patricia; yes, it is Patricia,--I know it as well as
if I had been at the christening.--Dawson, take the tea-things,
please; and do you know the name of the gentleman who has bought the
house on the opposite side?"
"It is Lord Brighton, miss." (You would never believe it, but we
find the name is spelled Brighthelmston.) "He hasn't bought the
'ouse; he has taken it for a week, and is giving a ball there on the
Tuesday evening. He has four daughters, miss, and two h'orphan
nieces that generally spends the season with 'im. It's the youngest
daughter he is bringing out, that lively one you saw cutting about
just now. They 'ave no ballroom, I expect, in their town 'ouse,
which accounts for their renting one for this occasion. They
stopped a month in this 'otel last year, so I have the honour of
m'luds acquaintance."
"Lady Brighthelmston is not living, I should judge," remarked
Salemina, in the tone of one who thinks it hardly worth while to
ask.
"Oh, yes, miss, she's alive and 'earty; but the daughters manages
everythink, and what they down't manage the h'orphan nieces does.
The 'ouse is run for the young ladies, but m'ludanlady seems to
enjoy it."
Dovermarle Street was so interesting during the next few days that
we could scarcely bear to leave it, lest something exciting should
happen in our absence.
"A ball is so confining!" said Francesca, who had come back from the
corner of Piccadilly to watch the unloading of a huge van, and found
that it had no intention of stopping at Number Nine on the opposite
side.
First came a small army of charwomen, who scrubbed the house from
top to bottom. Then came men with canvas for floors, bronzes and
jardinieres and somebody's family portraits from an auction-room,
chairs and sofas and draperies from an upholsterer's.
The night before the event itself I announced my intention of
staying in our own drawing-room the whole of the next day. "I am
more interested in Patricia's debut," I said, "than anything else
that can possibly happen in London. What if it should be wet, and
won't it be annoying if it is a cold night and they draw the heavy
curtains close together?"
But it was beautiful day, almost too warm for a ball, and the heavy
curtains were not drawn. The family did not court observation; it
was serenely unconscious of such a thing. As to our side of the
street, I think we may have been the only people at all interested
in the affair now so imminent. The others had something more
sensible to do, I fancy, than patching up romances about their
neighbours.
At noon the florists decorated the entrance with palms, covered the
balcony with a gay awning, and hung the railing with brilliant
masses of scarlet and yellow flowers. At two the caterers sent
silver, tables, linen, and dishes, and a Broadwood grand piano was
installed; but at half-past seven, when we sat down to dinner, we
were a trifleanxious, because so many things seemed yet to do
before the party could be a complete success.
Mr. Beresford and his mother were dining with us, and we had sent
invitations to our London friends, the Hon. Arthur Ponsonby and
Bertie Godolphin, to come later in the evening. These read as
follows:-
Private View
The pleasure of your company is requested
at the coming-out party of
The Hon. Patricia Brighthelmston
July --- 189-
On the opposite side of the street.
Dancing about 10-30. 9 Dovermarle Street.
At eight o'clock, as we were finishing our fish course, which
chanced to be fried sole, the ball began literally to roll, and it
required the greatest ingenuity on Francesca's part and mine to be
always down in our seats when Dawson entered with the dishes, and
always at the window when he was absent.
An enormous van had appeared, with half a dozen men walking behind
it. In a trice, two of them had stretched a wire trellis across one
wall of the drawing-room, and two more were trailing roses from
floor to ceiling. Others tied the dark wood of the stair railing
with tall Madonna lilies; then they hung garlands of flowers from
corner to corner and, alas! could not refrain from framing the
mirror in smilax, nor from hanging the chandeliers with that same
ugly, funereal, and artificial-looking vine,--this idea being the
principal stock-in-trade of every florist in the universe.
We could not catch even a glimpse of the supper-rooms, but we saw a
man in the fourth story front room filling dozens of little glass
vases, each with its single malmaison, rose, or camellia, and
despatching them by an assistant to another part of the house; so we
could imagine from this the scheme of decoration at the tables.--No,
not new, perhaps, but simple and effective.
By the time we had finished our entree, which happened to be lamb
cutlets and green peas, and had begun our roast, which was chicken
and ham, I remember, they had put wreaths at all the windows, hung
Japanese lanterns on the balcony and in the oak-tree, and
transformed the house into a blossoming bower.
At this exciting juncture Dawson entered unexpectedly with our
sweet, and for the first and only time caught us literally 'red-
handed.' Let British subjects be interested in their neighbours, if
they will (and when they refrain I am convinced that it is as much
indifference as good breeding), but let us never bring our country
into disrepute with an English butler! As there was not a single
person at the table when Dawson came in, we were obliged to say that
we had finished dinner, thank you, and would take coffee; no sweet
to-night, thank you.
Willie Beresford was the only one who minded, but he rather likes
cherry tart. It simply chanced to be cherry tart, for our cook at
Smith's Private Hotel is a person of unbridled fancy and endless
repertory. She sometimes, for example, substitutes rhubarb for
cherry tart quite out of her own head; and when balked of both these
dainties, and thrown absolutely on her own boundless resources, will
create a dish of stewed green gooseberries and a companion piece of
liquidcustard. These unrelated concoctions, when eaten at the same
moment, as is her intention, always remind me of the lying down
together of the lion and the lamb, and the scheme is well-nigh as
dangerous, under any other circumstances than those of the digestive
millennium. I tremble to think what would ensue if all the rhubarb
and gooseberry bushes in England should be uprooted in a single
night. I believe that thousands of cooks, those not possessed of
families or Christian principles, would drown themselves in the
Thames forthwith, but that is neither here nor there, and the
Honourable Arthur denies it. He says, "Why commitsuicide? Ain't
there currants?"
I had forgotten to say that we ourselves were all en grande
toilette, down to satin slippers, feeling somehow that it was the
only proper thing to do; and when Dawson had cleared the table and
ushered in the other visitors, we ladies took our coffee and the men
their cigarettes to the three front windows, which were open as
usual to our balcony.
We seated ourselves there quite casually, as is our custom, somewhat
hidden by the lace draperies and potted hydrangeas, and whatever we
saw was to be seen by any passer-by, save that we held the key to
the whole story, and had made it our own by right of conquest.
Just at this moment--it was quarter-past nine, although it was still
bright daylight--came a little procession of servants who
disappeared within the doors, and, as they donned caps and aprons,
would now and then reappear at the windows. Presently the supper
arrived. We did not know the number of invited guests (there are
some things not even revealed to the Wise Woman), but although we
were a triflenervous about the amount of eatables, we were quite
certain that there would be no dearth of liquid refreshment.
Contemporaneously with the supper came a four-wheeler with a man and
a woman in it.
Sal. "I wonder if that is Lord and Lady Brighthelmston?"
Mrs. B. "Nonsense, my dear; look at the woman's dress."
W.B. "It is probably the butler, and I have a premonition that that
is good old Nurse with him. She has been with family ever since the
birth of the first daughter twenty-four years ago. Look at her cap
ribbons; note the fit of the stiff black silk over her comfortable
shoulders; you can almost hear her creak in it!"
B.G. "My eye! but she's one to keep the goody-pot open for the
youngsters! She'll be the belle of the ball so far as I'm
concerned."
Fran. "It's impossible to tell whether it's the butler or
paterfamilias. Yes, it's the butler, for he has taken off his coat
and is looking at the flowers with the florist's assistant."
B.G. "And the florist's assistant is getting slated like one
o'clock! The butler doesn't like the rum design over the piano; no
more do I. Whatever is the matter with them now?"
They were standing with their faces towards us, gesticulating wildly
about something on the front wall of the drawing-room; a place quite
hidden from our view. They could not decide the matter, although
the butler intimated that it would quite ruin the ball, while the
assistant mopped his brow and threw all the blame on somebody else.
Nurse came in, and hated whatever it was the moment her eye fell on
it. She couldn't think how anybody could abide it, and was of the
- closet [´klɔzit]
n.橱；私室；盥洗室 (初中英语单词) - careless [´keəlis] a.粗心的；草率的 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- sunlight [´sʌnlait] n.日光 (初中英语单词)
- opening [´əupəniŋ] n.开放；开端 a.开始的 (初中英语单词)
- lively [´laivli] a.活泼的；热烈的 (初中英语单词)
- intention [in´tenʃən] n.意图；打算；意义 (初中英语单词)
- canvas [´kænvəs] n.帆布；油画(布) (初中英语单词)
- observation [,ɔbzə´veiʃən] n.观测；注意；意义 (初中英语单词)
- scarlet [´skɑ:lit] n.猩红色 a.猩红的 (初中英语单词)
- trifle [´traifəl] n.琐事，小事；少量 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- enormous [i´nɔ:məs] a.巨大地，很，极 (初中英语单词)
- glimpse [glimps] n.&v.瞥见 (初中英语单词)
- assistant [ə´sistənt] n.助手；助理；助教 (初中英语单词)
- scheme [ski:m] n.计划；阴谋，诡计 (初中英语单词)
- decoration [,dekə´reiʃən] n.装饰(品)；装璜 (初中英语单词)
- absolutely [´æbsəlu:tli] ad.绝对地；确实 (初中英语单词)
- companion [kəm´pæniən] n.同伴；同事；伴侣 (初中英语单词)
- remind [ri´maind] vt.提醒；使记(想)起 (初中英语单词)
- commit [kə´mit] vt.犯(罪)；把...判处 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- procession [prə´seʃən] n.队伍 v.列队行进 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- nervous [´nə:vəs] a.神经的；神经过敏的 (初中英语单词)
- amount [ə´maunt] n.总数；数量 v.合计 (初中英语单词)
- liquid [´likwid] n.液体 a.流动的 (初中英语单词)
- standing [´stændiŋ] n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词)
- pantry [´pæntri] n.食品室；餐具室 (高中英语单词)
- mantle [´mæntl] n.斗蓬 v.覆盖；笼罩 (高中英语单词)
- fireplace [´faiəpleis] n.壁炉，炉灶 (高中英语单词)
- unconscious [ʌn´kɔnʃəs] a.无意识的；不觉察的 (高中英语单词)
- literally [´litərəli] ad.逐字地；实际上 (高中英语单词)
- ingenuity [,indʒi´nju:iti] n.创造性；机灵 (高中英语单词)
- refrain [ri´frein] v.抑制；忍住 n.迭句 (高中英语单词)
- hanging [´hæŋiŋ] n.绞刑 a.悬挂着的 (高中英语单词)
- cherry [´tʃeri] n.樱桃(树) (高中英语单词)
- forthwith [fɔ:θ´wið] ad.立刻 (高中英语单词)
- suicide [´su:isaid, ´sju:-] n.&a.自杀(者)(的) (高中英语单词)
- butler [´bʌtlə] n.(男)管家 (高中英语单词)
- stairway [´steəwei] n.楼梯 (英语四级单词)
- muslin [´mʌzlin] n.平纹细布，薄纱织物 (英语四级单词)
- delighted [di´laitid] a.高兴的；喜欢的 (英语四级单词)
- breathlessly [´breθlisli] ad.气喘吁吁地 (英语四级单词)
- railing [´reiliŋ] n.栏杆 (英语四级单词)
- balcony [´bælkəni] n.阳台；(戏院的)楼厅 (英语四级单词)
- unexpectedly [´ʌniks´pektidli] ad.意外地；突然地 (英语四级单词)
- boundless [´baundlis] a.无边无际的 (英语四级单词)
- reappear [,ri:ə´piə] vi.再(出)现 (英语四级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- expressive [ik´spresiv] a.有表现力的 (英语六级单词)
- indignantly [in´dignəntli] ad.愤慨地，义愤地 (英语六级单词)
- annoying [ə´nɔiiŋ] a.使人气恼的；讨厌的 (英语六级单词)
- imminent [´iminənt] a.临头的，逼近的 (英语六级单词)
- madonna [mə´dɔnə] n.圣母玛利亚；圣母像 (英语六级单词)
- minded [´maindid] a.有...心的 (英语六级单词)
- custard [´kʌstəd] n.乳蛋糕 (英语六级单词)
- dearth [də:θ] n.缺少，缺乏；饥荒 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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