章节正文
should think they were! The trouble I've had in getting
suited this year you would hardly believe. But I don't
see what you have to complain of - your mother is so
wonderfully lucky in her servants. Sturridge, for
instance - he's been with you for years, and I'm sure
he's a paragon as butlers go."
"That's just the trouble," said Clovis. "It's when
servants have been with you for years that they become a
really serious nuisance. The 'here to-day and gone to-
morrow' sort don't matter - you've simply got to replace
them; it's the stayers and the paragons that are the real
worry."
"But if they give satisfaction - "
"That doesn't prevent them from giving trouble.
Now, you've mentioned Sturridge - it was Sturridge I was
particularly thinking of when I made the observation
about servants being a nuisance."
"The excellent Sturridge a nuisance! I can't
believe it."
"I know he's excellent, and we just couldn't get
along without him; he's the one reliable element in this
rather haphazard household. But his very orderliness has
had an effect on him. Have you ever considered what it
must be like to go on unceasingly doing the correct thing
in the correct manner in the same surroundings for the
greater part of a lifetime? To know and ordain and
superintend exactly what silver and glass and table linen
shall be used and set out on what occasions, to have
cellar and pantry and plate-cupboard under a minutely
devised and undeviating administration, to be noiseless,
impalpable, omnipresent, and, as far as your own
department is concerned, omniscient?"
"I should go mad," said Jane with conviction.
"Exactly," said Clovis thoughtfully" target="_blank" title="ad.深思地；体贴地">thoughtfully, swallowing his
completed Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
"But Sturridge hasn't gone mad," said Jane with a
flutter of inquiry in her voice.
"On most points he's thoroughly sane and reliable,"
said Clovis, "but at times he is subject to the most
obstinate delusions, and on those occasions he becomes
not merely a nuisance but a decided embarrassment."
"What sort of delusions?"
"Unfortunately they usually centre round one of the
guests of the house party, and that is where the
awkwardness comes in. For instance, he took it into his
head that Matilda Sheringham was the Prophet Elijah, and
as all that he remembered about Elijah's history was the
episode of the ravens in the wilderness he absolutely
declined to interfere with what he imagined to be
Matilda's private catering arrangements, wouldn't allow
any tea to be sent up to her in the morning, and if he
was waiting at table he passed her over altogether in
handing round the dishes."
"How very unpleasant. Whatever did you do about
it?"
"Oh, Matilda got fed, after a fashion, but it was
judged to be best for her to cut her visit short. It was
really the only thing to be done," said Clovis with some
emphasis.
"I shouldn't have done that," said Jane, "I should
have humoured him in some way. I certainly shouldn't
have gone away."
Clovis frowned.
"It is not always wise to humour people when they
get these ideas into their heads. There's no knowing to
what lengths they may go if you encourage them."
"You don't mean to say he might be dangerous, do
you?" asked Jane with some anxiety.
"One can never be certain," said Clovis; "now and
then he gets some idea about a guest which might take an
unfortunate turn. That is precisely what is worrying me
at the present moment."
"What, has he taken a fancy about some one here
now?" asked Jane excitedly; "how thrilling! Do tell me
who it is."
You," said Clovis briefly.
"Me?"
Clovis nodded.
"Who on earth does he think I am?"
"Queen Anne," was the unexpected answer.
"Queen Anne! What an idea. But, anyhow, there's
nothing dangerous about her; she's such a colourless
personality."
"What does posteritychiefly say about Queen Anne?"
asked Clovis rather sternly.
"The only thing that I can remember about her," said
Jane, "is the saying 'Queen Anne's dead.'"
"Exactly," said Clovis, staring at the glass that
had held the Ella Wheeler Wilcox, "dead."
"Do you mean he takes me for the ghost of Queen
Anne?" asked Jane.
"Ghost? Dear no. No one ever heard of a ghost that
came down to breakfast and ate kidneys and toast and
honey with a healthyappetite. No, it's the fact of you
being so very much alive and flourishing that perplexes
and annoys him. All his life he has been accustomed to
look on Queen Anne as the personification of everything
that is dead and done with, 'as dead as Queen Anne,' you
know; and now he has to fill your glass at lunch and
dinner and listen to your accounts of the gay time you
had at the Dublin Horse Show, and naturally he feels that
something's very wrong with you."
"But he wouldn't be downrighthostile to me on that
account, would he?" Jane asked anxiously.
"I didn't get really alarmed about it till lunch to-
day," said Clovis; "I caught him glowering at you with a
very sinister look and muttering: 'Ought to be dead long
ago, she ought, and some one should see to it.' That's
why I mentioned the matter to you."
"This is awful," said Jane; "your mother must be
told about it at once."
"My mother mustn't hear a word about it," said
Clovis earnestly; "it would upset her dreadfully. She
relies on Sturridge for everything."
"But he might kill me at any moment," protested
Jane.
"Not at any moment; he's busy with the silver all
the afternoon."
"You'll have to keep a sharp look-out all the time
and be on your guard to frustrate any murderous attack,"
said Jane, adding in a tone of weak obstinacy: "It's a
dreadful situation to be in, with a mad butler dangling
over you like the sword of What's-his-name, but I'm
certainly not going to cut my visit short."
Clovis swore horribly under his breath; the miracle
was an obvious misfire.
It was in the hall the next morning after a late
breakfast that Clovis had his final inspiration as he
stood engaged in coaxing rust spots from an old putter.
"Where is Miss Martlet?" he asked the butler, who
was at that moment crossing the hall.
"Writing letters in the morning-room, sir," said
Sturridge, announcing a fact of which his questioner was
already aware.
"She wants to copy the inscription on that old
basket-hilted sabre," said Clovis, pointing to a
venerable weaponhanging on the wall. "I wish you'd take
it to her; my hands are all over oil. Take it without
the sheath, it will be less trouble."
The butler drew the blade, still keen and bright in
its well-cared for old age, and carried it into the
morning-room. There was a door near the writing-table
leading to a back stairway; Jane vanished through it with
such lightningrapidity that the butler doubted whether
she had seen him come in. Half an hour later Clovis was
driving her and her hastily-packed luggage to the
station.
"Mother will be awfully vexed when she comes back
from her ride and finds you have gone," he observed to
the departing guest, "but I'll make up some story about
an urgent wire having called you away. It wouldn't do to
alarm her unnecessarily about Sturridge."
Jane sniffed slightly at Clovis' ideas of
unnecessary alarm, and was almost rude to the young man
who came round with thoughtful inquiries as to luncheon-
baskets.
The miracle lost some of its usefulness from the
fact that Dora wrote the same day postponing the date of
her visit, but, at any rate, Clovis holds the record as
the only human being who ever hustled Jane Martlet out of
the time-table of her migrations.
THE OPEN WINDOW
"MY aunt will be down presently, Mr. Nuttel," said a
very self-possessed young lady of fifteen; "in the
meantime you must try and put up with me."
Framton Nuttel endeavoured to say the correct
something which should duly flatter the niece of the
moment without unduly discounting the aunt that was to
come. Privately he doubted more than ever whether these
formal visits on a succession of total strangers would do
much towards helping the nerve cure which he was supposed
to be undergoing.
"I know how it will be," his sister had said when he
was preparing to migrate to this rural retreat; "you will
bury yourself down there and not speak to a living soul,
and your nerves will be worse than ever from moping. I
shall just give you letters of introduction to all the
people I know there. Some of them, as far as I can
remember, were quite nice."
Framton wondered whether Mrs. Sappleton, the lady to
whom he was presenting one of the letters of
introduction, came into the nice division.
"Do you know many of the people round here?" asked
the niece, when she judged that they had had sufficient
silent communion.
"Hardly a soul," said Framton. "My sister was
staying here, at the rectory, you know, some four years
ago, and she gave me letters of introduction to some of
the people here."
He made the last statement in a tone of distinct
regret.
"Then you know practically nothing about my aunt?"
pursued the self-possessed young lady.
"Only her name and address," admitted the caller.
He was wondering whether Mrs. Sappleton was in the
married or widowed state. An undefinable something about
the room seemed to suggest masculine habitation.
"Her great tragedy happened just three years ago,"
said the child; "that would be since your sister's time."
"Her tragedy?" asked Framton; somehow in this
restful country spot tragedies seemed out of place.
suited this year you would hardly believe. But I don't
see what you have to complain of - your mother is so
wonderfully lucky in her servants. Sturridge, for
instance - he's been with you for years, and I'm sure
he's a paragon as butlers go."
"That's just the trouble," said Clovis. "It's when
servants have been with you for years that they become a
really serious nuisance. The 'here to-day and gone to-
morrow' sort don't matter - you've simply got to replace
them; it's the stayers and the paragons that are the real
worry."
"But if they give satisfaction - "
"That doesn't prevent them from giving trouble.
Now, you've mentioned Sturridge - it was Sturridge I was
particularly thinking of when I made the observation
about servants being a nuisance."
"The excellent Sturridge a nuisance! I can't
believe it."
"I know he's excellent, and we just couldn't get
along without him; he's the one reliable element in this
rather haphazard household. But his very orderliness has
had an effect on him. Have you ever considered what it
must be like to go on unceasingly doing the correct thing
in the correct manner in the same surroundings for the
greater part of a lifetime? To know and ordain and
superintend exactly what silver and glass and table linen
shall be used and set out on what occasions, to have
cellar and pantry and plate-cupboard under a minutely
devised and undeviating administration, to be noiseless,
impalpable, omnipresent, and, as far as your own
department is concerned, omniscient?"
"I should go mad," said Jane with conviction.
"Exactly," said Clovis thoughtfully" target="_blank" title="ad.深思地；体贴地">thoughtfully, swallowing his
completed Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
"But Sturridge hasn't gone mad," said Jane with a
flutter of inquiry in her voice.
"On most points he's thoroughly sane and reliable,"
said Clovis, "but at times he is subject to the most
obstinate delusions, and on those occasions he becomes
not merely a nuisance but a decided embarrassment."
"What sort of delusions?"
"Unfortunately they usually centre round one of the
guests of the house party, and that is where the
awkwardness comes in. For instance, he took it into his
head that Matilda Sheringham was the Prophet Elijah, and
as all that he remembered about Elijah's history was the
episode of the ravens in the wilderness he absolutely
declined to interfere with what he imagined to be
Matilda's private catering arrangements, wouldn't allow
any tea to be sent up to her in the morning, and if he
was waiting at table he passed her over altogether in
handing round the dishes."
"How very unpleasant. Whatever did you do about
it?"
"Oh, Matilda got fed, after a fashion, but it was
judged to be best for her to cut her visit short. It was
really the only thing to be done," said Clovis with some
emphasis.
"I shouldn't have done that," said Jane, "I should
have humoured him in some way. I certainly shouldn't
have gone away."
Clovis frowned.
"It is not always wise to humour people when they
get these ideas into their heads. There's no knowing to
what lengths they may go if you encourage them."
"You don't mean to say he might be dangerous, do
you?" asked Jane with some anxiety.
"One can never be certain," said Clovis; "now and
then he gets some idea about a guest which might take an
unfortunate turn. That is precisely what is worrying me
at the present moment."
"What, has he taken a fancy about some one here
now?" asked Jane excitedly; "how thrilling! Do tell me
who it is."
You," said Clovis briefly.
"Me?"
Clovis nodded.
"Who on earth does he think I am?"
"Queen Anne," was the unexpected answer.
"Queen Anne! What an idea. But, anyhow, there's
nothing dangerous about her; she's such a colourless
personality."
"What does posteritychiefly say about Queen Anne?"
asked Clovis rather sternly.
"The only thing that I can remember about her," said
Jane, "is the saying 'Queen Anne's dead.'"
"Exactly," said Clovis, staring at the glass that
had held the Ella Wheeler Wilcox, "dead."
"Do you mean he takes me for the ghost of Queen
Anne?" asked Jane.
"Ghost? Dear no. No one ever heard of a ghost that
came down to breakfast and ate kidneys and toast and
honey with a healthyappetite. No, it's the fact of you
being so very much alive and flourishing that perplexes
and annoys him. All his life he has been accustomed to
look on Queen Anne as the personification of everything
that is dead and done with, 'as dead as Queen Anne,' you
know; and now he has to fill your glass at lunch and
dinner and listen to your accounts of the gay time you
had at the Dublin Horse Show, and naturally he feels that
something's very wrong with you."
"But he wouldn't be downrighthostile to me on that
account, would he?" Jane asked anxiously.
"I didn't get really alarmed about it till lunch to-
day," said Clovis; "I caught him glowering at you with a
very sinister look and muttering: 'Ought to be dead long
ago, she ought, and some one should see to it.' That's
why I mentioned the matter to you."
"This is awful," said Jane; "your mother must be
told about it at once."
"My mother mustn't hear a word about it," said
Clovis earnestly; "it would upset her dreadfully. She
relies on Sturridge for everything."
"But he might kill me at any moment," protested
Jane.
"Not at any moment; he's busy with the silver all
the afternoon."
"You'll have to keep a sharp look-out all the time
and be on your guard to frustrate any murderous attack,"
said Jane, adding in a tone of weak obstinacy: "It's a
dreadful situation to be in, with a mad butler dangling
over you like the sword of What's-his-name, but I'm
certainly not going to cut my visit short."
Clovis swore horribly under his breath; the miracle
was an obvious misfire.
It was in the hall the next morning after a late
breakfast that Clovis had his final inspiration as he
stood engaged in coaxing rust spots from an old putter.
"Where is Miss Martlet?" he asked the butler, who
was at that moment crossing the hall.
"Writing letters in the morning-room, sir," said
Sturridge, announcing a fact of which his questioner was
already aware.
"She wants to copy the inscription on that old
basket-hilted sabre," said Clovis, pointing to a
venerable weaponhanging on the wall. "I wish you'd take
it to her; my hands are all over oil. Take it without
the sheath, it will be less trouble."
The butler drew the blade, still keen and bright in
its well-cared for old age, and carried it into the
morning-room. There was a door near the writing-table
leading to a back stairway; Jane vanished through it with
such lightningrapidity that the butler doubted whether
she had seen him come in. Half an hour later Clovis was
driving her and her hastily-packed luggage to the
station.
"Mother will be awfully vexed when she comes back
from her ride and finds you have gone," he observed to
the departing guest, "but I'll make up some story about
an urgent wire having called you away. It wouldn't do to
alarm her unnecessarily about Sturridge."
Jane sniffed slightly at Clovis' ideas of
unnecessary alarm, and was almost rude to the young man
who came round with thoughtful inquiries as to luncheon-
baskets.
The miracle lost some of its usefulness from the
fact that Dora wrote the same day postponing the date of
her visit, but, at any rate, Clovis holds the record as
the only human being who ever hustled Jane Martlet out of
the time-table of her migrations.
THE OPEN WINDOW
"MY aunt will be down presently, Mr. Nuttel," said a
very self-possessed young lady of fifteen; "in the
meantime you must try and put up with me."
Framton Nuttel endeavoured to say the correct
something which should duly flatter the niece of the
moment without unduly discounting the aunt that was to
come. Privately he doubted more than ever whether these
formal visits on a succession of total strangers would do
much towards helping the nerve cure which he was supposed
to be undergoing.
"I know how it will be," his sister had said when he
was preparing to migrate to this rural retreat; "you will
bury yourself down there and not speak to a living soul,
and your nerves will be worse than ever from moping. I
shall just give you letters of introduction to all the
people I know there. Some of them, as far as I can
remember, were quite nice."
Framton wondered whether Mrs. Sappleton, the lady to
whom he was presenting one of the letters of
introduction, came into the nice division.
"Do you know many of the people round here?" asked
the niece, when she judged that they had had sufficient
silent communion.
"Hardly a soul," said Framton. "My sister was
staying here, at the rectory, you know, some four years
ago, and she gave me letters of introduction to some of
the people here."
He made the last statement in a tone of distinct
regret.
"Then you know practically nothing about my aunt?"
pursued the self-possessed young lady.
"Only her name and address," admitted the caller.
He was wondering whether Mrs. Sappleton was in the
married or widowed state. An undefinable something about
the room seemed to suggest masculine habitation.
"Her great tragedy happened just three years ago,"
said the child; "that would be since your sister's time."
"Her tragedy?" asked Framton; somehow in this
restful country spot tragedies seemed out of place.
- complain [kəm´plein]
vi.抱怨，叫屈；控诉 (初中英语单词) - satisfaction [,sætis´fækʃən] n.满意；满足 (初中英语单词)
- administration [əd,minis´treiʃən] n.管理(事务等)；经营 (初中英语单词)
- inquiry [in´kwaiəri] n.询问；质询；调查 (初中英语单词)
- thoroughly [´θʌrəli] ad.完全地，彻底地 (初中英语单词)
- instance [´instəns] n.例子，实例，例证 (初中英语单词)
- prophet [´prɔfit] n.预言家；先知；提倡者 (初中英语单词)
- wilderness [´wildənis] n.荒地，荒野 (初中英语单词)
- interfere [,intə´fiə] vi.干涉；妨碍；打扰 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- altogether [,ɔ:ltə´geðə] ad.完全；总而言之 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- humour [´hju:mə] n.幽默，诙谐 (初中英语单词)
- knowing [´nəuiŋ] a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词)
- encourage [in´kʌridʒ] vt.鼓励；怂勇；促进 (初中英语单词)
- excitedly [ik´saitidli] ad.兴奋地，激动地 (初中英语单词)
- chiefly [´tʃi:fli] ad.主要地；尤其 (初中英语单词)
- healthy [´helθi] a.健康的 (初中英语单词)
- appetite [´æpitait] n.欲望；食欲 (初中英语单词)
- hostile [´hɔstail] a.敌方的，敌意的 (初中英语单词)
- dreadfully [dredfuli] ad.可怕地；糟透地 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- obvious [´ɔbviəs] a.明显的；显而易见的 (初中英语单词)
- weapon [´wepən] n.武器；斗争手段 (初中英语单词)
- lightning [´laitniŋ] n.闪电 a.突然的 (初中英语单词)
- slightly [´slaitli] ad.轻微地；细长的 (初中英语单词)
- miracle [´mirəkl] n.奇迹；令人惊奇的 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- flatter [´flætə] vt.阿谀，奉承；胜过 (初中英语单词)
- succession [sək´seʃən] n.继任；继承(权) (初中英语单词)
- retreat [ri´tri:t] v.&n.退却；撤退；放弃 (初中英语单词)
- introduction [,intrə´dʌkʃən] n.介绍；引言；引导 (初中英语单词)
- tragedy [´trædʒidi] n.悲剧；惨案；灾难 (初中英语单词)
- nuisance [´nju:səns] n.损害；讨厌的人(事) (高中英语单词)
- reliable [ri´laiəbl] a.可靠的；可信赖的 (高中英语单词)
- lifetime [´laiftaim] n.一生，终生，寿命 (高中英语单词)
- ordain [ɔ:´dein] v.规定；颁布命令 (高中英语单词)
- pantry [´pæntri] n.食品室；餐具室 (高中英语单词)
- concerned [kən´sə:nd] a.有关的；担心的 (高中英语单词)
- thoughtfully [´θɔ:tfuli] ad.深思地；体贴地 (高中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- unpleasant [ʌn´plezənt] a.不愉快的；不合意的 (高中英语单词)
- precisely [pri´saisli] ad.精确地；刻板地 (高中英语单词)
- unexpected [ʌniks´pektid] a.突然的；意外的 (高中英语单词)
- posterity [pɔ´steriti] n.子孙；后代 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- earnestly [´ə:nistli] ad.认真地；急切地 (高中英语单词)
- frustrate [frʌ´streit] vt.挫败；破坏 (高中英语单词)
- butler [´bʌtlə] n.(男)管家 (高中英语单词)
- inspiration [,inspi´reiʃən] n.鼓舞；灵感；启发 (高中英语单词)
- inscription [in´skripʃən] n.题名；题字；碑文 (高中英语单词)
- hanging [´hæŋiŋ] n.绞刑 a.悬挂着的 (高中英语单词)
- luggage [´lʌgidʒ] n.行李；皮箱 (高中英语单词)
- awfully [´ɔ:fuli] ad.令人畏惧地 (高中英语单词)
- thoughtful [´θɔ:tfəl] a.深思的；体贴的 (高中英语单词)
- sinister [´sinistə] a.阴险的；不吉的 (英语四级单词)
- murderous [´mə:dərəs] a.行凶的；势不可挡的 (英语四级单词)
- sheath [ʃi:θ] n.鞘，壳，套 (英语四级单词)
- stairway [´steəwei] n.楼梯 (英语四级单词)
- rapidity [rə´piditi] n.迅速；险峻；陡 (英语四级单词)
- urgent [´ə:dʒənt] a.急迫的，紧急的 (英语四级单词)
- migrate [mai´greit] v.迁移；移居(外国) (英语四级单词)
- masculine [´mæ:skjulin] a.男性的 n.男子 (英语四级单词)
- dublin [´dʌblin] n.都柏林 (英语六级单词)
- downright [´daunrait] a.直率的 ad.彻底 (英语六级单词)
- obstinacy [´ɔbstinəsi] n.顽固；(病痛等)难治 (英语六级单词)
- horribly [´hɔrəbli] ad.恐怖地 (英语六级单词)
- usefulness [´ju:sfəlnis] n.有用(性)；有益(性) (英语六级单词)
- privately [´praivitli] ad.秘密，一个人 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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