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Anne of Green Gables-Part43_L.Maud Montgomery(1874-1942)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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rose must look beside all the hothouse flowers the others wore!

Anne laid her hat and jacket away, and shrankmiserably into a corner.



She wished herself back in the white room at Green Gables.

It was still worse on the platform of the big concert hall of the



hotel, where she presently found herself. The electric lights

dazzled her eyes, the perfume and hum bewildered her. She wished



she were sitting down in the audience with Diana and Jane, who

seemed to be having a splendid time away at the back. She was



wedged in between a stout lady in pink silk and a tall,

scornful-looking girl in a white-lace dress. The stout lady



occasionally turned her head squarely around and surveyed Anne

through her eyeglasses until Anne, acutely sensitive of being so



scrutinized, felt that she must scream aloud; and the white-lace

girl kept talking audibly to her next neighbor about the "country



bumpkins" and "rustic belles" in the audience, languidly anticipating

"such fun" from the displays of local talent on the program.



Anne believed that she would hate that white-lace girl to the end of life.

Unfortunately for Anne, a professional elocutionist was staying



at the hotel and had consented to recite. She was a lithe,

dark-eyed woman in a wonderful gown of shimmering gray stuff



like woven moonbeams, with gems on her neck and in her dark hair.

She had a marvelouslyflexible voice and wonderful power of



expression; the audience went wild over her selection. Anne,

forgetting all about herself and her troubles for the time,



listened with rapt and shining eyes; but when the recitation

ended she suddenly put her hands over her face. She could never



get up and recite after that--never. Had she ever thought she

could recite? Oh, if she were only back at Green Gables!



At this unpropitious moment her name was called. Somehow

Anne--who did not notice the rather guilty little start of



surprise the white-lace girl gave, and would not have understood

the subtle compliment implied therein if she had--got on her



feet, and moved dizzily out to the front. She was so pale that

Diana and Jane, down in the audience, clasped each other's hands



in nervous sympathy.

Anne was the victim of an overwhelming attack of stage fright.



Often as she had recited in public, she had never before faced

such an audience as this, and the sight of it paralyzed her



energies completely. Everything was so strange, so brilliant,

so bewildering--the rows of ladies in evening dress, the critical



faces, the whole atmosphere of wealth and culture about her.

Very different this from the plain benches at the Debating Club,



filled with the homely, sympathetic faces of friends and neighbors.

These people, she thought, would be merciless critics. Perhaps,



like the white-lace girl, they anticipated amusement from her "rustic"

efforts. She felt hopelessly, helplesslyashamed and miserable.



Her knees trembled, her heart fluttered, a horrible faintness

came over her; not a word could she utter, and the next moment



she would have fled from the platformdespite the humiliation which,

she felt, must ever after be her portion if she did so.



But suddenly, as her dilated, frightened eyes gazed out over the

audience, she saw Gilbert Blythe away at the back of the room,



bending forward with a smile on his face--a smile which seemed to

Anne at once triumphant and taunting. In reality it was nothing



of the kind. Gilbert was merely smiling with appreciation of the

whole affair in general and of the effect produced by Anne's



slender white form and spiritual face against a background of

palms in particular. Josie Pye, whom he had driven over, sat



beside him, and her face certainly was both triumphant and

taunting. But Anne did not see Josie, and would not have cared



if she had. She drew a long breath and flung her head up

proudly, courage and determination tingling over her like an



electric shock. She WOULD NOT fail before Gilbert Blythe--he

should never be able to laugh at her, never, never! Her fright



and nervousness vanished; and she began her recitation, her clear,

sweet voice reaching to the farthest corner of the room without a



tremor or a break. Self-possession was fully restored to her,

and in the reaction from that horrible moment of powerlessness



she recited as she had never done before. When she finished

there were bursts of honest applause. Anne, stepping back to






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