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The Cost of Kindness-Part1_Jerome K.Jerome(1859-1927)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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her husband, as he was waiting to say for himself, were sorry for

everything and anything they may have said or done in the past to hurt



the feelings of the Rev. Augustus Cracklethorpe, and would like to

shake hands with him and wish him every happiness for the future. The



chilling attitude of the Rev. Augustus scattered that

carefully-rehearsed speech to the winds. It left Mrs. Pennycoop



nothing but to retire in choking silence, or to fling herself upon the

inspiration of the moment and make up something new. She choose the



latter alternative.

At first the words came halting. Her husband, man-like, had deserted



her in her hour of utmost need and was fumbling with the door-knob.

The steely stare with which the Rev. Cracklethorpe regarded her,



instead of chilling her, acted upon her as a spur. It put her on her

mettle. He should listen to her. She would make him understand her



kindly feeling towards him if she had to take him by the shoulders and

shake it into him. At the end of five minutes the Rev. Augustus



Cracklethorpe, without knowing it, was looking pleased. At the end of

another five Mrs. Pennycoop stopped, not for want of words, but for



want of breath. The Rev. Augustus Cracklethorpe replied in a voice

that, to his own surprise, was trembling with emotion. Mrs. Pennycoop



had made his task harder for him. He had thought to leave

Wychwood-on-the-Heath without a regret. The knowledge he now



possessed, that at all events one member of his congregation

understood him, as Mrs. Pennycoop had proved to him she understood



him, sympathized with him--the knowledge that at least one heart, and

that heart Mrs. Pennycoop's, had warmed to him, would transform what



he had looked forward to as a blessedrelief into a lasting grief.

Mr. Pennycoop, carried away by his wife's eloquence, added a few



halting words of his own. It appeared from Mr. Pennycoop's remarks

that he had always regarded the Rev. Augustus Cracklethorpe as the



vicar of his dreams, but misunderstandings in some unaccountable way

will arise. The Rev. Augustus Cracklethorpe, it appeared, had always



secretly respected Mr. Pennycoop. If at any time his spoken words

might have conveyed the contraryimpression, that must have arisen



from the poverty of our language, which does not lend itself to subtle

meanings.



Then following the suggestion of tea, Miss Cracklethorpe, sister to

the Rev. Augustus--a lady whose likeness to her brother in all



respects was startling, the only difference between them being that

while he was clean-shaven she wore a slight moustache--was called down



to grace the board. The visit was ended by Mrs. Pennycoop's

remembrance that it was Wilhelmina's night for a hot bath.



"I said more than I intended to," admitted Mrs. Pennycoop to George,

her husband, on the way home; "but he irritated me."



Rumour of the Pennycoops' visit flew through the parish. Other ladies

felt it their duty to show to Mrs. Pennycoop that she was not the only



Christian in Wychwood-on-the-Heath. Mrs. Pennycoop, it was feared,

might be getting a swelled head over this matter. The Rev. Augustus,



with pardonable pride, repeated some of the things that Mrs. Pennycoop

had said to him. Mrs. Pennycoop was not to imagine herself the only



person in Wychwood-on-the-Heath capable of generosity that cost

nothing. Other ladies could say graceful nothings--could say them



even better. Husbands dressed in their best clothes and carefully

rehearsed were brought in to grace the almost endless procession of



disconsolate parishioners hammering at the door of St. Jude's

parsonage. Between Thursday morning and Saturday night the Rev.



Augustus, much to his own astonishment, had been forced to the

conclusion that five-sixths of his parishioners had loved him from the



first without hitherto having had opportunity of expressing their real

feelings.



The eventful Sunday arrived. The Rev. Augustus Cracklethorpe had been

kept so busy listening to regrets at his departure, assurances of an



esteem hithertodisguised from him, explanations of seeming

discourtesies that had been intended as tokens of affectionate regard,



that no time had been left to him to think of other matters. Not till

he entered the vestry at five minutes to eleven did recollection of



his farewellsermon come to him. It haunted him throughout the

service. To deliver it after the revelations of the last three days



would be impossible. It was the sermon that Moses might have preached

to Pharaoh the Sunday prior to the exodus. To crush with it this



congregation of broken-hearted adorers sorrowing for his departure

would be inhuman. The Rev. Augustus tried to think of passages that






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