酷兔英语
    当前位置:
  1. 首页
  2. 文章
  3. 娱乐英语
  4. 原版小说
  5. 正文

Daisy Miller-Part3_HENRY JAMES(1843-1916)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

0 收藏 0 分享 0 赞

章节正文
文章总共2页
smiling and curling his mustache.



"You are guilty too, then!"

Winterbourne continued to curl his mustache meditatively.



"You won't let the poor girl know you then?" he asked at last.

"Is it literally true that she is going to the Chateau de Chillon with you?"



"I think that she fully intends it."

"Then, my dear Frederick," said Mrs. Costello, "I must decline the honor



of her acquaintance. I am an old woman, but I am not too old, thank Heaven,

to be shocked!"



"But don't they all do these things--the young girls in America?"

Winterbourne inquired.



Mrs. Costello stared a moment. "I should like to see my granddaughters

do them!" she declared grimly.



This seemed to throw some light upon the matter, for Winterbourne remembered

to have heard that his pretty cousins in New York were "tremendous flirts."



If, therefore, Miss Daisy Miller exceeded the liberalmargin allowed to

these young ladies, it was probable that anything might be expected of her.



Winterbourne was impatient to see her again, and he was vexed with himself

that, by instinct, he should not appreciate her justly.



Though he was impatient to see her, he hardly knew what he should

say to her about his aunt's refusal to become acquainted with her;



but he discovered, promptly enough, that with Miss Daisy Miller there

was no great need of walking on tiptoe. He found her that evening in



the garden, wandering about in the warm starlight like an indolent sylph,

and swinging to and fro the largest fan he had ever beheld.



It was ten o'clock. He had dined with his aunt, had been sitting with

her since dinner, and had just taken leave of her till the morrow.



Miss Daisy Miller seemed very glad to see him; she declared it

was the longest evening she had ever passed.



"Have you been all alone?" he asked.

"I have been walking round with mother. But mother gets tired



walking round," she answered.

"Has she gone to bed?"



"No; she doesn't like to go to bed," said the young girl.

"She doesn't sleep--not three hours. She says she



doesn't know how she lives. She's dreadfully" target="_blank" title="ad.可怕地；糟透地">dreadfully nervous.

I guess she sleeps more than she thinks. She's gone somewhere



after Randolph; she wants to try to get him to go to bed.

He doesn't like to go to bed."



"Let us hope she will persuade him," observed Winterbourne.

"She will talk to him all she can; but he doesn't like her to talk



to him," said Miss Daisy, opening her fan. "She's going to try

to get Eugenio to talk to him. But he isn't afraid of Eugenio.



Eugenio's a splendid courier, but he can't make much impression

on Randolph! I don't believe he'll go to bed before eleven."



It appeared that Randolph's vigil was in fact triumphantly prolonged,

for Winterbourne strolled about with the young girl for some



time without meeting her mother. "I have been looking round

for that lady you want to introduce me to," his companion resumed.



"She's your aunt." Then, on Winterbourne's admitting the fact

and expressing some curiosity as to how she had learned it,



she said she had heard all about Mrs. Costello from the chambermaid.

She was very quiet and very comme il faut; she wore white puffs;



she spoke to no one, and she never dined at the table d'hote.

Every two days she had a headache. "I think that's a lovely



description, headache and all!" said Miss Daisy, chattering along

in her thin, gay voice. "I want to know her ever so much.



I know just what YOUR aunt would be; I know I should like her.

She would be very exclusive. I like a lady to be exclusive;



I'm dying to be exclusive myself. Well, we ARE exclusive,

mother and I. We don't speak to everyone--or they don't speak to us.



I suppose it's about the same thing. Anyway, I shall be ever

so glad to know your aunt."



Winterbourne was embarrassed. "She would be most happy," he said;

"but I am afraid those headaches will interfere."



The young girl looked at him through the dusk.

"But I suppose she doesn't have a headache every day,"



she said sympathetically.

Winterbourne was silent a moment. "She tells me she does,"



he answered at last, not knowing what to say.

Miss Daisy Miller stopped and stood looking at him. Her prettiness



was still visible in the darkness; she was opening and closing her

enormous fan. "She doesn't want to know me!" she said suddenly.



"Why don't you say so? You needn't be afraid. I'm not afraid!"

And she gave a little laugh.



Winterbourne fancied there was a tremor in her voice; he was touched, shocked,

mortified by it. "My dear young lady," he protested, "she knows no one.






文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文
Copyright © 2023 Qeto All rights reserved.
商务合作 | 联系我们 | 关于我们 | 版权声明 | 隐私条款 | 如果智培

京ICP备05059198号-1 京公网安备 11011202003401号