章节正文
she never would marry Philip unless she felt it right that
she should. The only way was to find out, and Elnora
had gone to seek the information. There was nothing to
do but wait until she came back, and her mother was not
in the least uneasy but that the girl would return brave and
self-reliant, as always.
Philip Ammon hurried back to the Limberlost, strong
in the hope that now he might take Elnora into his arms
and receive her promise to become his wife. His first
shock of disappointment came when he found her gone.
In talking with Mrs. Comstock he learned that Edith Carr
had made an opportunity to speak with Elnora alone.
He hastened down the road to meet her, coming back alone,
an agitated man. Then search revealed the notes. His read:
DEAR PHILIP:
I find that I am never going to be able to answer your question of
this afternoon fairly to all of us, when you are with me. So I am going
away a few weeks to think over matters alone. I shall not tell you,
or even mother, where I am going, but I shall be safe, well cared for,
and happy. Please go back home and live among your friends, just
as you always have done, and on or before the first of September, I
will write you where I am, and what I have decided. Please do not
blame Edith Carr for this, and do not avoid her. I hope you will call
on her and be friends. I think she is very sorry, and covets your
friendship at least. Until September, then, as ever,
ELNORA.
Mrs. Comstock's note was much the same. Philip was
ill with disappointment. In the arbour he laid his head on
the table, among the implements of Elnora's loved work, and
gulped down dry sobs he could not restrain. Mrs. Comstock
never had liked him so well. Her hand involuntarily crept
toward his dark head, then she drew back. Elnora would not
want her to do anything whatever to influence him.
"What am I going to do to convince Edith Carr that I
do not love her, and Elnora that I am hers?" he demanded.
"I guess you have to figure that out yourself," said
Mrs. Comstock. "I'd be glad to help you if I could,
but it seems to be up to you."
Philip sat a long time in silence. "Well, I have decided!"
he said abruptly. "Are you perfectly sure Elnora had
plenty of money and a safe place to go?"
"Absolutely!" answered Mrs. Comstock. "She has
been taking care of herself ever since she was born, and she
always has come out all right, so far; I'll stake all I'm
worth on it, that she always will. I don't know where she
is, but I'm not going to worry about her safety."
"I can't help worrying!" cried Philip. "I can think of
fifty things that may happen to her when she thinks she
is safe. This is distracting! First, I am going to run
up to see my father. Then, I'll let you know what we
have decided. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Nothing!" said Mrs. Comstock.
But the desire to do something for him was so strong
with her she scarcely could keep her lips closed or her
hands quiet. She longed to tell him what Edith Carr had
said, how it had affected Elnora, and to comfort him as she
felt she could. But loyalty to the girl held her. If Elnora
truly felt that she could not decide until Edith Carr was
convinced, then Edith Carr would have to yield or triumph.
It rested with Philip. So Mrs. Comstock kept silent, while
Philip took the night limited, a bitterly disappointed man.
By noon the next day he was in his father's offices. They had
a long conference, but did not arrive at much until the elder
Ammon suggested sending for Polly. Anything that might have
happened could be explained after Polly had told of the
private conference between Edith and Elnora.
"Talk about lovely woman!" cried Philip Ammon. "One would
think that after such a dose as Edith gave me, she would
be satisfied to let me go my way, but no! Not caring for
me enough herself to save me from public disgrace, she must
now pursue me to keep any other woman from loving me.
I call that too much! I am going to see her, and I want
you to go with me, father."
"Very well," said Mr. Ammon, "I will go."
When Edith Carr came into her reception-room that
afternoon, gowned for conquest, she expected only Philip,
and him penitent. She came hurrying toward him, smiling,
radiant, ready to use every allurement she possessed, and
paused in dismay when she saw his cold face and his father.
"Why, Phil!" she cried. "When did you come home?"
"I am not at home," answered Philip. "I merely ran up
to see my father on business, and to inquire of you what
it was you said to Miss Comstock yesterday that caused
her to disappear before I could return to the Limberlost."
"Miss Comstock disappear! Impossible!" cried Edith Carr.
"Where could she go?"
"I thought perhaps you could answer that, since it was
through you that she went."
"Phil, I haven't the faintest idea where she is," said the
girl gently.
"But you know perfectly why she went! Kindly tell me that."
"Let me see you alone, and I will."
"Here and now, or not at all."
"Phil!"
"What did you say to the girl I love?"
Then Edith Carr stretched out her arms.
"Phil, I am the girl you love!" she cried. "All your
life you have loved me. Surely it cannot be all gone in
a few weeks of misunderstanding. I was jealous of her!
I did not want you to leave me an instant that night for any
other girl living. That was the moth I was representing.
Every one knew it! I wanted you to bring it to me.
When you did not, I knew instantly it had been for her
that you worked last summer, she who suggested my
dress, she who had power to take you from me, when I
wanted you most. The thought drove me mad, and I said
and did those insane things. Phil, I beg your pardon!
I ask your forgiveness" target="_blank" title="n.原谅，饶恕；宽仁">forgiveness. Yesterday she said that you had
told her of me at once. She vowed both of you had been
true to me and Phil, I couldn't look into her eyes and not
see that it was the truth. Oh, Phil, if you understood how
I have suffered you would forgive me. Phil, I never knew
how much I cared for you! I will do anything--anything!"
"Then tell me what you said to Elnora yesterday that
drove her, alone and friendless, into the night, heaven
knows where!"
"You have no thought for any one save her?"
"Yes," said Philip. "I have. Because I once loved you,
and believed in you, my heart aches for you. I will gladly
forgive anything you ask. I will do anything you want,
except to resume our former relations. That is impossible.
It is hopeless and useless to ask it."
"You truly mean that!"
"Yes."
"Then find out from her what I said!"
"Come, father," said Philip, rising.
"You were going to show Miss Comstock's letter to
Edith!" suggested Mr. Ammon.
"I have not the slightest interest in Miss Comstock's
letter," said Edith Carr.
"You are not even interested in the fact that she says
you are not responsible for her going, and that I am to call
on you and be friends with you?"
"That is interesting, indeed!" sneered Miss Carr.
She took the letter, read and returned it.
"She has done what she could for my cause, it seems,"
she said coldly. "How very generous of her! Do you
propose calling out Pinkertons and instituting a
general search?"
"No," replied Philip. "I simply propose to go back to
the Limberlost and live with her mother, until Elnora
becomes convinced that I am not courting you, and never
shall be. Then, perhaps, she will come home to us.
Good-bye. Good luck to you always!"
CHAPTER XXIV
WHEREIN EDITH CARR WAGES A BATTLE,
AND HART HENDERSON STANDS GUARD
Many people looked, a few followed, when Edith Carr
slowly came down the main street of Mackinac, pausing
here and there to note the glow of colour in one small
booth after another, overflowing with gay curios.
That street of packed white sand, winding with the
curves of the shore, outlined with brilliant shops,
and thronged with laughing, bare-headed people in outing
costumes was a picturesque and fascinating sight.
Thousands annually made long journeys and paid exorbitant
prices to take part in that pageant.
As Edith Carr passed, she was the most distinguished
figure of the old street. Her clinging black gown was
sufficiently elaborate for a dinner dress. On her head was
a large, wide, drooping-brimmed black hat, with immense
floating black plumes, while on the brim, and among the
laces on her breast glowed velvety, deep red roses.
Some way these made up for the lack of colour in her cheeks
and lips, and while her eyes seemed unnaturally bright,
to a close observer they appeared weary. Despite the
effort she made to move lightly she was very tired,
and dragged her heavy feet with an effort.
She turned at the little street leading to the dock, and
went to meet the big lake steamer ploughing up the Straits
from Chicago. Past the landing place, on to the very end
of the pier she went, then sat down, leaned against a dock
support and closed her tired eyes. When the steamer
came very close she languidly watched the people lining
the railing. Instantly she marked one lean anxious face
turned toward hers, and with a throb of pity she lifted a
hand and waved to Hart Henderson. He was the first
man to leave the boat, coming to her instantly. She spread
her trailing skirts and motioned him to sit beside her.
Silently they looked across the softly lapping water.
At last she forced herself to speak to him.
"Did you have a successful trip?"
"I accomplished my purpose."
"You didn't lose any time getting back."
"I never do when I am coming to you."
"Do you want to go to the cottage for anything?"
"No."
"Then let us sit here and wait until the Petoskey
steamer comes in. I like to watch the boats.
Sometimes I study the faces, if I am not too tired."
"Have you seen any new types to-day?"
She shook her head. "This has not been an easy day, Hart."
"And it's going to be worse," said Henderson bitterly.
"There's no use putting it off. Edith, I saw some one to-day."
"You should have seen thousands," she said lightly.
"I did. But of them all, only one will be of interest to you."
"Man or woman?"
"Man."
"Where?"
"Lake Shore private hospital."
"An accident?"
she should. The only way was to find out, and Elnora
had gone to seek the information. There was nothing to
do but wait until she came back, and her mother was not
in the least uneasy but that the girl would return brave and
self-reliant, as always.
Philip Ammon hurried back to the Limberlost, strong
in the hope that now he might take Elnora into his arms
and receive her promise to become his wife. His first
shock of disappointment came when he found her gone.
In talking with Mrs. Comstock he learned that Edith Carr
had made an opportunity to speak with Elnora alone.
He hastened down the road to meet her, coming back alone,
an agitated man. Then search revealed the notes. His read:
DEAR PHILIP:
I find that I am never going to be able to answer your question of
this afternoon fairly to all of us, when you are with me. So I am going
away a few weeks to think over matters alone. I shall not tell you,
or even mother, where I am going, but I shall be safe, well cared for,
and happy. Please go back home and live among your friends, just
as you always have done, and on or before the first of September, I
will write you where I am, and what I have decided. Please do not
blame Edith Carr for this, and do not avoid her. I hope you will call
on her and be friends. I think she is very sorry, and covets your
friendship at least. Until September, then, as ever,
ELNORA.
Mrs. Comstock's note was much the same. Philip was
ill with disappointment. In the arbour he laid his head on
the table, among the implements of Elnora's loved work, and
gulped down dry sobs he could not restrain. Mrs. Comstock
never had liked him so well. Her hand involuntarily crept
toward his dark head, then she drew back. Elnora would not
want her to do anything whatever to influence him.
"What am I going to do to convince Edith Carr that I
do not love her, and Elnora that I am hers?" he demanded.
"I guess you have to figure that out yourself," said
Mrs. Comstock. "I'd be glad to help you if I could,
but it seems to be up to you."
Philip sat a long time in silence. "Well, I have decided!"
he said abruptly. "Are you perfectly sure Elnora had
plenty of money and a safe place to go?"
"Absolutely!" answered Mrs. Comstock. "She has
been taking care of herself ever since she was born, and she
always has come out all right, so far; I'll stake all I'm
worth on it, that she always will. I don't know where she
is, but I'm not going to worry about her safety."
"I can't help worrying!" cried Philip. "I can think of
fifty things that may happen to her when she thinks she
is safe. This is distracting! First, I am going to run
up to see my father. Then, I'll let you know what we
have decided. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Nothing!" said Mrs. Comstock.
But the desire to do something for him was so strong
with her she scarcely could keep her lips closed or her
hands quiet. She longed to tell him what Edith Carr had
said, how it had affected Elnora, and to comfort him as she
felt she could. But loyalty to the girl held her. If Elnora
truly felt that she could not decide until Edith Carr was
convinced, then Edith Carr would have to yield or triumph.
It rested with Philip. So Mrs. Comstock kept silent, while
Philip took the night limited, a bitterly disappointed man.
By noon the next day he was in his father's offices. They had
a long conference, but did not arrive at much until the elder
Ammon suggested sending for Polly. Anything that might have
happened could be explained after Polly had told of the
private conference between Edith and Elnora.
"Talk about lovely woman!" cried Philip Ammon. "One would
think that after such a dose as Edith gave me, she would
be satisfied to let me go my way, but no! Not caring for
me enough herself to save me from public disgrace, she must
now pursue me to keep any other woman from loving me.
I call that too much! I am going to see her, and I want
you to go with me, father."
"Very well," said Mr. Ammon, "I will go."
When Edith Carr came into her reception-room that
afternoon, gowned for conquest, she expected only Philip,
and him penitent. She came hurrying toward him, smiling,
radiant, ready to use every allurement she possessed, and
paused in dismay when she saw his cold face and his father.
"Why, Phil!" she cried. "When did you come home?"
"I am not at home," answered Philip. "I merely ran up
to see my father on business, and to inquire of you what
it was you said to Miss Comstock yesterday that caused
her to disappear before I could return to the Limberlost."
"Miss Comstock disappear! Impossible!" cried Edith Carr.
"Where could she go?"
"I thought perhaps you could answer that, since it was
through you that she went."
"Phil, I haven't the faintest idea where she is," said the
girl gently.
"But you know perfectly why she went! Kindly tell me that."
"Let me see you alone, and I will."
"Here and now, or not at all."
"Phil!"
"What did you say to the girl I love?"
Then Edith Carr stretched out her arms.
"Phil, I am the girl you love!" she cried. "All your
life you have loved me. Surely it cannot be all gone in
a few weeks of misunderstanding. I was jealous of her!
I did not want you to leave me an instant that night for any
other girl living. That was the moth I was representing.
Every one knew it! I wanted you to bring it to me.
When you did not, I knew instantly it had been for her
that you worked last summer, she who suggested my
dress, she who had power to take you from me, when I
wanted you most. The thought drove me mad, and I said
and did those insane things. Phil, I beg your pardon!
I ask your forgiveness" target="_blank" title="n.原谅，饶恕；宽仁">forgiveness. Yesterday she said that you had
told her of me at once. She vowed both of you had been
true to me and Phil, I couldn't look into her eyes and not
see that it was the truth. Oh, Phil, if you understood how
I have suffered you would forgive me. Phil, I never knew
how much I cared for you! I will do anything--anything!"
"Then tell me what you said to Elnora yesterday that
drove her, alone and friendless, into the night, heaven
knows where!"
"You have no thought for any one save her?"
"Yes," said Philip. "I have. Because I once loved you,
and believed in you, my heart aches for you. I will gladly
forgive anything you ask. I will do anything you want,
except to resume our former relations. That is impossible.
It is hopeless and useless to ask it."
"You truly mean that!"
"Yes."
"Then find out from her what I said!"
"Come, father," said Philip, rising.
"You were going to show Miss Comstock's letter to
Edith!" suggested Mr. Ammon.
"I have not the slightest interest in Miss Comstock's
letter," said Edith Carr.
"You are not even interested in the fact that she says
you are not responsible for her going, and that I am to call
on you and be friends with you?"
"That is interesting, indeed!" sneered Miss Carr.
She took the letter, read and returned it.
"She has done what she could for my cause, it seems,"
she said coldly. "How very generous of her! Do you
propose calling out Pinkertons and instituting a
general search?"
"No," replied Philip. "I simply propose to go back to
the Limberlost and live with her mother, until Elnora
becomes convinced that I am not courting you, and never
shall be. Then, perhaps, she will come home to us.
Good-bye. Good luck to you always!"
CHAPTER XXIV
WHEREIN EDITH CARR WAGES A BATTLE,
AND HART HENDERSON STANDS GUARD
Many people looked, a few followed, when Edith Carr
slowly came down the main street of Mackinac, pausing
here and there to note the glow of colour in one small
booth after another, overflowing with gay curios.
That street of packed white sand, winding with the
curves of the shore, outlined with brilliant shops,
and thronged with laughing, bare-headed people in outing
costumes was a picturesque and fascinating sight.
Thousands annually made long journeys and paid exorbitant
prices to take part in that pageant.
As Edith Carr passed, she was the most distinguished
figure of the old street. Her clinging black gown was
sufficiently elaborate for a dinner dress. On her head was
a large, wide, drooping-brimmed black hat, with immense
floating black plumes, while on the brim, and among the
laces on her breast glowed velvety, deep red roses.
Some way these made up for the lack of colour in her cheeks
and lips, and while her eyes seemed unnaturally bright,
to a close observer they appeared weary. Despite the
effort she made to move lightly she was very tired,
and dragged her heavy feet with an effort.
She turned at the little street leading to the dock, and
went to meet the big lake steamer ploughing up the Straits
from Chicago. Past the landing place, on to the very end
of the pier she went, then sat down, leaned against a dock
support and closed her tired eyes. When the steamer
came very close she languidly watched the people lining
the railing. Instantly she marked one lean anxious face
turned toward hers, and with a throb of pity she lifted a
hand and waved to Hart Henderson. He was the first
man to leave the boat, coming to her instantly. She spread
her trailing skirts and motioned him to sit beside her.
Silently they looked across the softly lapping water.
At last she forced herself to speak to him.
"Did you have a successful trip?"
"I accomplished my purpose."
"You didn't lose any time getting back."
"I never do when I am coming to you."
"Do you want to go to the cottage for anything?"
"No."
"Then let us sit here and wait until the Petoskey
steamer comes in. I like to watch the boats.
Sometimes I study the faces, if I am not too tired."
"Have you seen any new types to-day?"
She shook her head. "This has not been an easy day, Hart."
"And it's going to be worse," said Henderson bitterly.
"There's no use putting it off. Edith, I saw some one to-day."
"You should have seen thousands," she said lightly.
"I did. But of them all, only one will be of interest to you."
"Man or woman?"
"Man."
"Where?"
"Lake Shore private hospital."
"An accident?"
- disappointment [,disə´pɔintmənt]
n.失望；挫折 (初中英语单词) - whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- convince [kən´vins] vt.使确信；使认识错误 (初中英语单词)
- abruptly [ə´brʌptli] ad.突然地；粗鲁地 (初中英语单词)
- bitterly [´bitəli] ad.悲痛地；憎恨地 (初中英语单词)
- conference [´kɔnfərəns] n.讨论(会)；会谈 (初中英语单词)
- disgrace [dis´greis] n.耻辱 vt.玷辱；贬黜 (初中英语单词)
- pursue [pə´sju:] v.追赶；追踪；从事 (初中英语单词)
- conquest [´kɔŋkwest] n.赢得；获得；占领地 (初中英语单词)
- dismay [dis´mei] n.惊慌 vt.使惊慌 (初中英语单词)
- yesterday [´jestədi] n.&ad.昨天；前不久 (初中英语单词)
- jealous [´dʒeləs] a.妒忌的 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- instantly [´instəntli] ad.立即，立刻 (初中英语单词)
- forgive [fə´giv] vt.原谅，谅解，宽恕 (初中英语单词)
- useless [´ju:sləs] a.无用的，无价值的 (初中英语单词)
- responsible [ri´spɔnsəbəl] a.尽责的；责任重大的 (初中英语单词)
- coldly [´kəuldli] ad.冷淡地 (初中英语单词)
- generous [´dʒenərəs] a.慷慨的；丰盛的 (初中英语单词)
- brilliant [´briliənt] a.灿烂的；杰出的 (初中英语单词)
- fascinating [´fæsineitiŋ] a.迷人，使神魂颠倒的 (初中英语单词)
- elaborate [i´læbərət, -reit] a.精心设计的 (初中英语单词)
- observer [əb´zə:və] n.遵守者；观察员 (初中英语单词)
- despite [di´spait] prep.尽管 (初中英语单词)
- lightly [´laitli] ad.轻微地，稍微 (初中英语单词)
- steamer [´sti:mə] n.汽船；轮船；蒸笼 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- cottage [´kɔtidʒ] n.村舍；小屋；小别墅 (初中英语单词)
- uneasy [ʌn´i:zi] a.不安的；不自在的 (高中英语单词)
- hurried [´hʌrid] a.仓促的，慌忙的 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- restrain [ri´strein] vt.抑制；管束；限制 (高中英语单词)
- perfectly [´pə:fiktli] ad.理想地；完美地 (高中英语单词)
- loyalty [´lɔiəlti] n.忠诚；忠心；忠实 (高中英语单词)
- limited [´limitid] a.有限(制)的 (高中英语单词)
- loving [´lʌviŋ] a.爱的，有爱情的 (高中英语单词)
- insane [in´sein] a.患神经病的；疯狂的 (高中英语单词)
- forgiveness [fə´givnis] n.原谅，饶恕；宽仁 (高中英语单词)
- hopeless [´həupləs] a.无望的，无可救药的 (高中英语单词)
- picturesque [,piktʃə´resk] a.似画的；别致的 (高中英语单词)
- annually [´ænjuəli] ad.每年；按年计算 (高中英语单词)
- chicago [ʃi´kɑ:gəu] n.芝加哥 (英语四级单词)
- railing [´reiliŋ] n.栏杆 (英语四级单词)
- accomplished [ə´kʌmpliʃt] a.完成了的；熟练的 (英语四级单词)
- involuntarily [in´vɔləntərili] ad.不 自觉地 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- affected [ə´fektid] a.做作的；假装的 (英语六级单词)
- penitent [´penitənt] a.悔罪的 n.悔罪者 (英语六级单词)
- allurement [ə´ljuəmənt] n.诱惑物；魅力 (英语六级单词)
- misunderstanding [,misʌndə´stændiŋ] n.误解；隔阂 (英语六级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- landing [´lændiŋ] n.登陆；降落；楼梯平台 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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