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Lady Baltimore-Part23_Owen Wister(1860-1938)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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as her inward qualities--save such as might be audible in that voice, as

her skilful, well-placed speeches to one and the other of the company



tided over and carried off into ease this uneasy moment. All men, at such

a voice, have pricked up their ears since the beginning; there was much



woman in it; each slow, schooled syllable called its challenge to

questing man. But I got no chance to look in the eye that went with that



voice; she took all the advantages which her veil gave her; and how well

she used them I was to learn later.



In the general smoothing-out process which she was so capably effecting,

her attention was about to reach me, when my name was suddenly called out



from behind her. It was Beverly Rodgers, that accomplished and inveterate

bachelor of fashion. Ten years before, when I had seen much of him, he



had been more particular in his company, frequently declaring in his

genial, irresponsible way that New York society was going to the devil.



But many tempting dances on the land, and cruises on the water, had taken

him deep among our lower classes that have boiled up from the bottom with



their millions--and besides, there would be nothing to marvel at in

Beverly's presence in any company that should include Hortense Rieppe, if



she carried out the promise of her voice.

Beverly was his customary, charming, effusive self, coming out of the



automobile to me with his "By Jove, old man," and his "Who'd have thought

it, old fellow?" and sprinkling urbane little drops of jocosity over us



collectively, as the garden water-turning apparatus sprinkles a lawn. His

knowing me, and the way he brought it out, and even the tumbling into the



road of a few wraps and chattels of travel as he descended from the

automobile, and the necessity of picking these up and handing them back



with delightful little jocular apologies, such as, "By Jove, what a lout

I am," all this helped the meeting on prodigiously, and got us gratefully



away from the disconcerting incident of the torn money. Charley was

helpful, too; you would never have supposed from the polite small-talk



which he was now offering to John Mayrant that he had within some three

minutes received the equivalent of a slap across the eyes from that



youth, and carried the soiled consequences m his pocket. And such a thing

is it to be a true man of the world of finance, that upon the arrival now



of a second automobile, also his property, and containing a set of maids

and valets, and also some live dogs sitting up, covered with glass eyes



and wrappings like their owners, munificent Charley at once offered the

dead dog and his mistress a place in it, and begged she would let it take



her wherever she wished to go. Everybody exclaimed copiously and

condolingly over the unfortunateoccurrence. What a fine animal he was,



to be sure! What breed was he? Of course, he wasn't used to automobiles!

Was it quite certain that he was dead? Quel dommage! And Charley would be



so happy to replace him.

And how was Eliza La Heu bearing herself amid these murmurously chattered



infelicities? She was listening with composure to the murmurs of Hortense

Rieppe, more felicitous, no doubt. Miss Rieppe, through her veil, was



particularly devoting herself to Miss La Lieu. I could not hear what she

said; the little chorus of condolence and suggestion intercepted all save



her tone, and that, indeed, coherently sustained its measured cadence

through the texture of fragments uttered by Charley and the others. Eliza



La Heu had now got herself altogether in hand, and, saving her pale

cheeks, no sign betrayed that the young girl's feelings had been so



recently too strong for her. To these strangers, ignorant of her usual

manner, her present strange quietness may very well have been accepted as



her habit.

"Thank you," she replied to munificent Charley's offer that she would use



his second automobile. She managed to make her polite words cut like a

scythe. "I should crowd it."



"But they shall get out and walk; it will be good for them," said

Charley, indicating the valets and maids, and possibly the dogs, too.



Beverly Rodgers did much better than Charley. With a charminggesture and

bow, he offered his own seat in the first automobile. "I am going to walk



in any case," he assured her.

"One gentleman among them," I heard John Mayrant mutter behind me.



Miss La Heu declined, the chorus urged, but Beverly (who was indeed a

gentleman, every inch of him) shook his head imperceptibly at Charley;



and while the little exclamations--"Do come! So much more comfortable! So

nice to see more of you!"--dropped away, Miss La Heu had settled her






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