章节正文
pardon, I mean Master Philip."
"Don't repeat that ridiculous name again,
Aggie!" said Mrs. Brent. "Your young master has
nothing to do with it. You ought to know that his
name is Philip."
"I should say so!" broke in Jonas. "I ain't goin'
to be called out of my name!"
"As to Dan," proceeded Mrs. Brent. "I am willing
to overlook his impertinence this time. I won't
say a word to Mr. Granville, but he must be more
careful hereafter."
"I'm sure I'm obliged to you, ma'am," said Aggie
demurely.
When she was out of the room she nodded to herself
triumphantly.
"Sure, I've got the old lady under me thumb, but
divil a bit I know how. It's all in the word Jonas.
When I want a favor, all I've got to do is to say that
word. I wonder what it manes now, anyhow."
However, Aggie communicated to Dan the welcome
intelligence that he would have no trouble
with Mrs. Brent or Philip, but as to the way in
which she had managed she kept that to herself.
"I want to think it over," she said. "There's a
secret, and it's about Jonas. I'll wait patiently,
and maybe I'll hear some more about it."
As for Mrs. Brent, she was panic-stricken.
Uncertain how much Aggie knew, she feared that she
knew all. But how could she have discovered it?
And was it come to this that she and Jonas were in
the power of an Irish chambermaid? It was galling
to her pride.
She turned to her son when they were left alone.
"How could she have found out?" she asked.
"Found out what, mother?"
"That your name is Jonas. She evidently knows
it. I could see that in her eyes."
"She must have heard you calling me so. I've
told you more than once, ma, that you must never
call me anything but Philip."
"It is hard to have to keep silent always, never
to speak to you as my own boy. I begin to think it
is a dear price to pay, Jonas."
"There you go again, mother!" said Jonas, peevishly.
His mother had seated herself and spoke despondently.
"I am afraid it will all come out some day," she
said.
"It will if you don't take better care, ma. I tell
you, it would be the best thing for you to go away.
Mr. Granville will give you a good income. If I
was left alone, there'd be no fear of its leaking
out."
"Oh, Jonas! would you really have me leave you?
Would you really have me live by myself, separated
from my only child?"
Cold as she was, her heart was keenly wounded,
for, looking at the boy, she saw that he was in
earnest, and that he would prefer to have her go,
since thereby he would be safer in the position he
had usurped.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.
Mr. Carter, can you spare me a couple of
days?" asked Philip.
"Certainly, Phil," answered the old gentleman.
"May I ask how you wish to dispose of the time?"
"I would like to go to Planktown to see my
friends there. It is now some months since I left
the village, and I would like to see my old friends."
"The desire is a natural one. Your home is
broken up, is it not?"
"Yes, but I can stay at the house of Tommy
Kavanagh. I know he will be glad to have me."
"It is strange that your step-mother and her son
have left no trace behind them," said Mr. Carter
thoughtfully. "It looks suspicious, as if they had
some good reason for their disappearance."
"I can't understand why they should have left
Planktown," said Philip, appearing puzzled.
"Is the house occupied?"
"Yes. I hear that a cousin of Mrs. Brent occupies
it. I shall call and inquire after her."
"Very well, Philip. Go when you please. You
may be sure of a welcome when you return."
In Planktown, though his home relations
latterly had not been pleasant, Philip had many
friends, and when he appeared on the street, he met
everywhere glances of friendly welcome. One of
the first to meet him was Tommy Kavanagh.
"Where did you come from, Phil?" he asked.
"I am glad enough to see you. Where are you
staying?"
"Nowhere, Tommy, at present. If your mother
can take me in, I will stay at your house."
"Take you? Yes, and will be glad enough to
have you stay with us. You know we live in a
small house, but if you don't mind----"
"What do you take me for, Tommy? Whatever
is good enough for you and your mother will be
good enough for me."
"What are you doing, Phil? You don't look as
if you had hard work making a living."
"I am well fixed now, but I have had some anxious
days. But all's well that ends well. I am private
secretary to a rich man, and live in a fine
brown-stone house on Madison Avenue."
"Good for you, Phil! I knew you'd succeed."
"Where is Mrs. Brent? Has anything been
heard from her?"
"I don't think anybody in the village knows
where she is--that is, except her cousin, who lives
in your old house."
"What is his name?"
"Hugh Raynor."
"What sort of a man is he?"
"The people in the village don't like him. He
lives alone, and I hear that he cooks for himself.
He is not at all social, and no one feels very much
acquainted with him."
"I shall call upon him and inquire after Mrs.
Brent."
"Then, Phil, you had better go alone, for he
doesn't like callers, and he will be more ready to
receive one than two."
Philip enjoyed his visit, and was busied making
calls on his old acquaintances. He was much
pleased with the cordiality with which he had been
received.
It was not till the afternoon of the second day
that he turned his steps toward the house which had
been his home for so long a time.
We will precede him, and explain matters which
made his visit very seasonable.
In the sitting-room sat Hugh Raynor, the present
occupant of the house. He was a small, dark-
complexioned man, with a large Roman nose, and his
face was at this moment expressive of discontent.
This seemed to be connected with a letter which he
had just been reading. Not to keep the reader in
suspense, it was mailed at Chicago, and was written
by Mrs. Brent. We will quote a paragraph:
"You seem to me very reasonable" target="_blank" title="a.不合理的；荒唐的">unreasonable in expecting
me not only to give you the house rent-free, but
also to give you a salary. I would like to know
what you do to merit a salary. You merely take
care of the house. As for that, there are plenty
who would be glad to take charge of so good a
house, and pay me a fair rent. Indeed, I am thinking
that it will be best for me to make some such
arrangement, especially as you do not seem satisfied
with your sinecure position. You represent me
as rolling in wealth. Jonas and I are living very
comfortably, and we have nothing to complain of,
but that is no reason for my squandering the small
fortune left me by my husband. I advise you to be
a little more reasonable in your demands, or I shall
request you to leave my house."
"Selfish as ever," muttered Mr. Raynor, after
reading this letter over again. "Cousin Jane never
was willing that any one else should prosper. But
she has made a mistake in thinking she can treat
me meanly. I AM IN A POSITION TO TURN THE TABLES
UPON HER! This paper--if she dreamed I had found
it, she would yield to all my demands."
He laid his hand upon a paper, folded lengthwise,
and presenting the appearance of a legal document.
He opened the paper and read aloud:
"To the boy generally known as Philip Brent
and supposed, though incorrectly, to be my son, I
bequeath the sum of five thousand dollars, and
direct the same to be paid over to any one whom he
may select as guardian, to hold in trust for him until
he attains the age of twenty-one."
"This will Mrs. Brent carefully concealed,"
continued Mr. Raynor, "in order to save the money for
herself and Jonas. I wonder she was not prudent
enough to burn it, or, at any rate, to take it with her
when she left Planktown. It is a damaging secret,
but I hold it, and I mean to use it, too. Let me see,
what is it best to do?"
Mr. Raynor spent some time in quiet thought.
It seemed to him that it might be well to hint his
discovery in a letter to Mrs. Brent, and to make it
the basis of a demand for a generous sum of hush-
money--one thousand dollars, at least. He might
have decided to do this but for an incident which
suggested another course.
The door-bell rang, and when he opened the door
with some surprise, for callers were few, he saw
standing before him a tall, handsome boy, whom he
did not recognize.
"Do you wish to see me?" he asked. "What is
your name?"
"My name is Philip Brent."
"What!" exclaimed Mr. Raynor, in visible excitement,
"are you the son of the late Mr. Brent?"
"I was always regarded as such," answered
Philip.
"Come in, then. I am glad to see you," said Mr.
Raynor; and Phil entered the house, surprised at a
reception much more cordial than he had expected.
"Don't repeat that ridiculous name again,
Aggie!" said Mrs. Brent. "Your young master has
nothing to do with it. You ought to know that his
name is Philip."
"I should say so!" broke in Jonas. "I ain't goin'
to be called out of my name!"
"As to Dan," proceeded Mrs. Brent. "I am willing
to overlook his impertinence this time. I won't
say a word to Mr. Granville, but he must be more
careful hereafter."
"I'm sure I'm obliged to you, ma'am," said Aggie
demurely.
When she was out of the room she nodded to herself
triumphantly.
"Sure, I've got the old lady under me thumb, but
divil a bit I know how. It's all in the word Jonas.
When I want a favor, all I've got to do is to say that
word. I wonder what it manes now, anyhow."
However, Aggie communicated to Dan the welcome
intelligence that he would have no trouble
with Mrs. Brent or Philip, but as to the way in
which she had managed she kept that to herself.
"I want to think it over," she said. "There's a
secret, and it's about Jonas. I'll wait patiently,
and maybe I'll hear some more about it."
As for Mrs. Brent, she was panic-stricken.
Uncertain how much Aggie knew, she feared that she
knew all. But how could she have discovered it?
And was it come to this that she and Jonas were in
the power of an Irish chambermaid? It was galling
to her pride.
She turned to her son when they were left alone.
"How could she have found out?" she asked.
"Found out what, mother?"
"That your name is Jonas. She evidently knows
it. I could see that in her eyes."
"She must have heard you calling me so. I've
told you more than once, ma, that you must never
call me anything but Philip."
"It is hard to have to keep silent always, never
to speak to you as my own boy. I begin to think it
is a dear price to pay, Jonas."
"There you go again, mother!" said Jonas, peevishly.
His mother had seated herself and spoke despondently.
"I am afraid it will all come out some day," she
said.
"It will if you don't take better care, ma. I tell
you, it would be the best thing for you to go away.
Mr. Granville will give you a good income. If I
was left alone, there'd be no fear of its leaking
out."
"Oh, Jonas! would you really have me leave you?
Would you really have me live by myself, separated
from my only child?"
Cold as she was, her heart was keenly wounded,
for, looking at the boy, she saw that he was in
earnest, and that he would prefer to have her go,
since thereby he would be safer in the position he
had usurped.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.
Mr. Carter, can you spare me a couple of
days?" asked Philip.
"Certainly, Phil," answered the old gentleman.
"May I ask how you wish to dispose of the time?"
"I would like to go to Planktown to see my
friends there. It is now some months since I left
the village, and I would like to see my old friends."
"The desire is a natural one. Your home is
broken up, is it not?"
"Yes, but I can stay at the house of Tommy
Kavanagh. I know he will be glad to have me."
"It is strange that your step-mother and her son
have left no trace behind them," said Mr. Carter
thoughtfully. "It looks suspicious, as if they had
some good reason for their disappearance."
"I can't understand why they should have left
Planktown," said Philip, appearing puzzled.
"Is the house occupied?"
"Yes. I hear that a cousin of Mrs. Brent occupies
it. I shall call and inquire after her."
"Very well, Philip. Go when you please. You
may be sure of a welcome when you return."
In Planktown, though his home relations
latterly had not been pleasant, Philip had many
friends, and when he appeared on the street, he met
everywhere glances of friendly welcome. One of
the first to meet him was Tommy Kavanagh.
"Where did you come from, Phil?" he asked.
"I am glad enough to see you. Where are you
staying?"
"Nowhere, Tommy, at present. If your mother
can take me in, I will stay at your house."
"Take you? Yes, and will be glad enough to
have you stay with us. You know we live in a
small house, but if you don't mind----"
"What do you take me for, Tommy? Whatever
is good enough for you and your mother will be
good enough for me."
"What are you doing, Phil? You don't look as
if you had hard work making a living."
"I am well fixed now, but I have had some anxious
days. But all's well that ends well. I am private
secretary to a rich man, and live in a fine
brown-stone house on Madison Avenue."
"Good for you, Phil! I knew you'd succeed."
"Where is Mrs. Brent? Has anything been
heard from her?"
"I don't think anybody in the village knows
where she is--that is, except her cousin, who lives
in your old house."
"What is his name?"
"Hugh Raynor."
"What sort of a man is he?"
"The people in the village don't like him. He
lives alone, and I hear that he cooks for himself.
He is not at all social, and no one feels very much
acquainted with him."
"I shall call upon him and inquire after Mrs.
Brent."
"Then, Phil, you had better go alone, for he
doesn't like callers, and he will be more ready to
receive one than two."
Philip enjoyed his visit, and was busied making
calls on his old acquaintances. He was much
pleased with the cordiality with which he had been
received.
It was not till the afternoon of the second day
that he turned his steps toward the house which had
been his home for so long a time.
We will precede him, and explain matters which
made his visit very seasonable.
In the sitting-room sat Hugh Raynor, the present
occupant of the house. He was a small, dark-
complexioned man, with a large Roman nose, and his
face was at this moment expressive of discontent.
This seemed to be connected with a letter which he
had just been reading. Not to keep the reader in
suspense, it was mailed at Chicago, and was written
by Mrs. Brent. We will quote a paragraph:
"You seem to me very reasonable" target="_blank" title="a.不合理的；荒唐的">unreasonable in expecting
me not only to give you the house rent-free, but
also to give you a salary. I would like to know
what you do to merit a salary. You merely take
care of the house. As for that, there are plenty
who would be glad to take charge of so good a
house, and pay me a fair rent. Indeed, I am thinking
that it will be best for me to make some such
arrangement, especially as you do not seem satisfied
with your sinecure position. You represent me
as rolling in wealth. Jonas and I are living very
comfortably, and we have nothing to complain of,
but that is no reason for my squandering the small
fortune left me by my husband. I advise you to be
a little more reasonable in your demands, or I shall
request you to leave my house."
"Selfish as ever," muttered Mr. Raynor, after
reading this letter over again. "Cousin Jane never
was willing that any one else should prosper. But
she has made a mistake in thinking she can treat
me meanly. I AM IN A POSITION TO TURN THE TABLES
UPON HER! This paper--if she dreamed I had found
it, she would yield to all my demands."
He laid his hand upon a paper, folded lengthwise,
and presenting the appearance of a legal document.
He opened the paper and read aloud:
"To the boy generally known as Philip Brent
and supposed, though incorrectly, to be my son, I
bequeath the sum of five thousand dollars, and
direct the same to be paid over to any one whom he
may select as guardian, to hold in trust for him until
he attains the age of twenty-one."
"This will Mrs. Brent carefully concealed,"
continued Mr. Raynor, "in order to save the money for
herself and Jonas. I wonder she was not prudent
enough to burn it, or, at any rate, to take it with her
when she left Planktown. It is a damaging secret,
but I hold it, and I mean to use it, too. Let me see,
what is it best to do?"
Mr. Raynor spent some time in quiet thought.
It seemed to him that it might be well to hint his
discovery in a letter to Mrs. Brent, and to make it
the basis of a demand for a generous sum of hush-
money--one thousand dollars, at least. He might
have decided to do this but for an incident which
suggested another course.
The door-bell rang, and when he opened the door
with some surprise, for callers were few, he saw
standing before him a tall, handsome boy, whom he
did not recognize.
"Do you wish to see me?" he asked. "What is
your name?"
"My name is Philip Brent."
"What!" exclaimed Mr. Raynor, in visible excitement,
"are you the son of the late Mr. Brent?"
"I was always regarded as such," answered
Philip.
"Come in, then. I am glad to see you," said Mr.
Raynor; and Phil entered the house, surprised at a
reception much more cordial than he had expected.
- pardon [´pɑ:dən]
n.&vt.原谅；饶恕；赦免 (初中英语单词) - overlook [,əuvə´luk] vt.&n.俯瞰；忽略；观察 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- income [´inkʌm] n.收入，所得 (初中英语单词)
- keenly [´ki:nli] ad.敏锐地；强烈地 (初中英语单词)
- thereby [´ðeəbai] ad.因此，由此 (初中英语单词)
- dispose [di´spəuz] v.处置；安排；布置 (初中英语单词)
- welcome [´welkəm] a.受欢迎的；可喜的 (初中英语单词)
- reading [´ri:diŋ] n.(阅)读；朗读；读物 (初中英语单词)
- charge [tʃɑ:dʒ] v.收费；冲锋 n.费用 (初中英语单词)
- wealth [welθ] n.财富，财产 (初中英语单词)
- complain [kəm´plein] vi.抱怨，叫屈；控诉 (初中英语单词)
- advise [əd´vaiz] vt.忠告；建议；通知 (初中英语单词)
- reasonable [´rizənəbəl] a.合理的；有理智的 (初中英语单词)
- willing [´wiliŋ] a.情愿的，乐意的 (初中英语单词)
- supposed [sə´pəuzd] a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词)
- generous [´dʒenərəs] a.慷慨的；丰盛的 (初中英语单词)
- incident [´insidənt] n.小事件；事变 (初中英语单词)
- visible [´vizəbəl] a.可见的；明显的 (初中英语单词)
- ridiculous [ri´dikjuləs] a.荒谬的；可笑的 (高中英语单词)
- suspicious [sə´spiʃəs] a.可疑的，多疑的 (高中英语单词)
- precede [pri´si:d] v.领先；先于 (高中英语单词)
- prosper [´prɔspə] v.(使...)繁荣(成功) (高中英语单词)
- guardian [´gɑ:diən] n.监护人；保护人 (高中英语单词)
- decided [di´saidid] a.明显的；决定的 (高中英语单词)
- cordial [´kɔ:diəl] a.热忱的；亲切的 (高中英语单词)
- chicago [ʃi´kɑ:gəu] n.芝加哥 (英语四级单词)
- unreasonable [ʌn´ri:zənəbl] a.不合理的；荒唐的 (英语四级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- expressive [ik´spresiv] a.有表现力的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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