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

Awakening & Selected Short Stories-Part28_Kate Chopin(1851-1904)_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
the still fields the negroes were picking cotton.

Desiree had not changed the thin white garment nor the



slippers which she wore. Her hair was uncovered and the sun's rays

brought a golden gleam from its brown meshes. She did not take the



broad, beaten road which led to the far-offplantation of Valmonde.

She walked across a deserted field, where the stubble bruised her



tender feet, so delicately shod, and tore her thin gown to shreds.

She disappeared among the reeds and willows that grew thick



along the banks of the deep, sluggish bayou; and she did not come

back again.



Some weeks later there was a curious scene enacted at L'Abri.

In the centre of the smoothly swept back yard was a great bonfire.



Armand Aubigny sat in the wide hallway that commanded a view of the

spectacle; and it was he who dealt out to a half dozen negroes the



material which kept this fire ablaze.

A gracefulcradle of willow, with all its dainty furbishings,



was laid upon the pyre, which had already been fed with the

richness of a priceless layette. Then there were silk gowns,



and velvet and satin ones added to these; laces, too, and

embroideries; bonnets and gloves; for the corbeille had been of



rare quality.

The last thing to go was a tiny bundle of letters; innocent



little scribblings that Desiree had sent to him during the days of

their espousal. There was the remnant of one back in the drawer



from which he took them. But it was not Desiree's; it was part of

an old letter from his mother to his father. He read it. She was



thanking God for the blessing of her husband's love:--

"But above all," she wrote, "night and day, I thank the good



God for having so arranged our lives that our dear Armand will

never know that his mother, who adores him, belongs to the race



that is cursed with the brand of slavery."

A Respectable Woman



Mrs. Baroda was a little provoked to learn that her husband

expected his friend, Gouvernail, up to spend a week or two on the



plantation.

They had entertained a good deal during the winter; much of



the time had also been passed in New Orleans in various forms of

mild dissipation. She was looking forward to a period of unbroken



rest, now, and undisturbed tete-a-tete with her husband, when he

informed her that Gouvernail was coming up to stay a week or two.



This was a man she had heard much of but never seen. He had

been her husband's college friend; was now a journalist, and in no



sense a society man or "a man about town," which were, perhaps,

some of the reasons she had never met him. But she had



unconsciously formed an image of him in her mind. She pictured him

tall, slim, cynical; with eye-glasses, and his hands in his



pockets; and she did not like him. Gouvernail was slim enough, but

he wasn't very tall nor very cynical; neither did he wear



eyeglasses nor carry his hands in his pockets. And she rather liked

him when he first presented himself.



But why she liked him she could not explain satisfactorily to

herself when she partly attempted to do so. She could discover in



him none of those brilliant and promising traits which Gaston, her

husband, had often assured her that he possessed. On the contrary,



he sat rather mute and receptive before her chatty eagerness to

make him feel at home and in face of Gaston's frank and wordy hospitality.



His manner was as courteous toward her as the most exacting woman

could require; but he made no direct appeal to her approval or even esteem.



Once settled at the plantation he seemed to like to sit upon

the wide portico in the shade of one of the big Corinthian pillars,



smoking his cigar lazily and listening attentively to Gaston's

experience as a sugar planter.



"This is what I call living," he would utter with deep

satisfaction, as the air that swept across the sugar field caressed



him with its warm and scented velvety touch. It pleased him also

to get on familiar terms with the big dogs that came about him,



rubbing themselves sociably against his legs. He did not care to

fish, and displayed no eagerness to go out and kill grosbecs when



Gaston proposed doing so.

Gouvernail's personality puzzled Mrs. Baroda, but she liked



him. Indeed, he was a lovable, inoffensive fellow. After a few

days, when she could understand him no better than at first, she



gave over being puzzled and remained piqued. In this mood she left

her husband and her guest, for the most part, alone together. Then



finding that Gouvernail took no manner of exception to her action,




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