章节正文
Janet came home in the twilight.
"Mrs. Douglas is dead," she said wearily. "She died soon after
I got there. She just spoke to me once -- `I suppose you'll
marry John now?' she said. It cut me to the heart, Anne.
To think John's own mother thought I wouldn't marry him
because of her! I couldn't say a word either -- there were
other women there. I was thankful John had gone out."
Janet began to cry drearily. But Anne brewed her a hot drink of
ginger tea to her comforting. To be sure, Anne discovered later
on that she had used white pepper instead of ginger; but Janet
never knew the difference.
The evening after the funeral Janet and Anne were sitting on the
front porch steps at sunset. The wind had fallen asleep in the
pinelands and lurid sheets of heat-lightning flickered across the
northern skies. Janet wore her ugly black dress and looked her
very worst, her eyes and nose red from crying. They talked
little, for Janet seemed faintly to resent Anne's efforts to
cheer her up. She plainly preferred to be miserable.
Suddenly the gate-latch clicked and John Douglas strode into the
garden. He walked towards them straight over the geranium bed.
Janet stood up. So did Anne. Anne was a tall girl and wore a
white dress; but John Douglas did not see her.
"Janet," he said, "will you marry me?"
The words burst out as if they had been wanting to be said
for twenty years and MUST be uttered now, before anything else.
Janet's face was so red from crying that it couldn't turn any redder,
so it turned a most unbecoming purple.
"Why didn't you ask me before?" she said slowly.
"I couldn't. She made me promise not to -- mother made me
promise not to. Nineteen years ago she took a terrible spell.
We thought she couldn't live through it. She implored me to
promise not to ask you to marry me while she was alive. I didn't
want to promise such a thing, even though we all thought she
couldn't live very long -- the doctor only gave her six months.
But she begged it on her knees, sick and suffering. I had to promise."
"What had your mother against me?" cried Janet.
"Nothing -- nothing. She just didn't want another woman
-- ANY woman -- there while she was living. She said if I
didn't promise she'd die right there and I'd have killed her.
So I promised. And she's held me to that promise ever since,
though I've gone on my knees to her in my turn to beg her
to let me ff."
"Why didn't you tell me this?" asked Janet chokingly.
"If I'd only KNOWN! Why didn't you just tell me?"
"She made me promise I wouldn't tell a soul," said John hoarsely.
"She swore me to it on the Bible; Janet, I'd never have done it
if I'd dreamed it was to be for so long. Janet, you'll never
know what I've suffered these nineteen years. I know I've made
you suffer, too, but you'll marry me for all, won't you, Janet?
Oh, Janet, won't you? I've come as soon as I could to ask you."
At this moment the stupefied Anne came to her senses and realized
that she had no business to be there. She slipped away and did not
see Janet until the next morning, when the latter told her the rest
of the story.
"That cruel, relentless, deceitful old woman!" cried Anne.
"Hush -- she's dead," said Janet solemnly. "If she wasn't -- but she IS.
So we mustn't speak evil of her. But I'm happy at last, Anne. And I
wouldn't have mindedwaiting so long a bit if I'd only known why."
"When are you to be married?"
"Next month. Of course it will be very quiet. I suppose people
will talk terrible. They'll say I made enough haste to snap John
up as soon as his poor mother was out of the way. John wanted to
let them know the truth but I said, `No, John; after all she was
your mother, and we'll keep the secret between us, and not cast
any shadow on her memory. I don't mind what people say, now that
I know the truth myself. It don't matter a mite. Let it all be
buried with the dead' says I to him. So I coaxed him round to
agree with me."
"You're much more forgiving than I could ever be," Anne said,
rather crossly.
"You'll feel differently about a good many things when you get to
be my age," said Janet tolerantly. "That's one of the things we
learn as we grow older -- how to forgive. It comes easier at
forty than it did at twenty."
Chapter XXXV
The Last Redmond Year Opens
"Here we are, all back again, nicely sunburned and rejoicing as a
strong man to run a race," said Phil, sitting down on a suitcase
with a sigh of pleasure. "Isn't it jolly to see this dear old
Patty's Place again -- and Aunty -- and the cats? Rusty has lost
another piece of ear, hasn't he?"
"Rusty would be the nicest cat in the world if he had no ears at all,"
declared Anne loyally from her trunk, while Rusty writhed about her lap
in a frenzy of welcome.
"Aren't you glad to see us back, Aunty?" demanded Phil.
"Yes. But I wish you'd tidy things up," said Aunt Jamesina plaintively,
looking at the wilderness of trunks and suitcases by which the four
laughing, chattering girls were surrounded. "You can talk just as well
later on. Work first and then play used to be my motto when I was a girl."
"Oh, we've just reversed that in this generation, Aunty.
OUR motto is play your play and then dig in. You can do your
work so much better if you've had a good bout of play first."
"If you are going to marry a minister," said Aunt Jamesina,
picking up Joseph and her knitting and resigning herself to the
inevitable with the charming grace that made her the queen of
housemothers, "you will have to give up such expressions as `dig in.'"
"Why?" moaned Phil. "Oh, why must a minister's wife be supposed
to utter only prunes and prisms? I shan't. Everybody on
Patterson Street uses slang -- that is to say, metaphorical
language -- and if I didn't they would think me insufferably
proud and stuck up."
"Have you broken the news to your family?" asked Priscilla,
feeding the Sarah-cat bits from her lunchbasket.
Phil nodded.
"How did they take it?"
"Oh, mother rampaged. But I stood rockfirm -- even I, Philippa Gordon,
who never before could hold fast to anything. Father was calmer.
Father's own daddy was a minister, so you see he has a soft spot
in his heart for the cloth. I had Jo up to Mount Holly, after mother
grew calm, and they both loved him. But mother gave him some frightful
hints in every conversation regarding what she had hoped for me. Oh,
my vacationpathway hasn't been exactly strewn with roses, girls dear.
But -- I've won out and I've got Jo. Nothing else matters."
"To you," said Aunt Jamesina darkly.
"Nor to Jo, either," retorted Phil. "You keep on pitying him.
Why, pray? I think he's to be envied. He's getting brains,
beauty, and a heart of gold in ME."
"It's well we know how to take your speeches," said Aunt Jamesina
patiently. "I hope you don't talk like that before strangers.
What would they think?"
"Oh, I don't want to know what they think. I don't want to
see myself as others see me. I'm sure it would be horribly
uncomfortable most of the time. I don't believe Burns was
really sincere in that prayer, either."
"Oh, I daresay we all pray for some things that we really don't
want, if we were only honest enough to look into our hearts,"
owned Aunt Jamesina candidly. "I've a notion that such prayers
don't rise very far. _I_ used to pray that I might be enabled to
forgive a certain person, but I know now I really didn't want to
forgive her. When I finally got that I DID want to I forgave her
without having to pray about it."
"I can't picture you as being unforgiving for long," said Stella.
"Oh, I used to be. But holding spite doesn't seem worth while
when you get along in years."
"That reminds me," said Anne, and told the tale of John and Janet.
"And now tell us about that romantic scene you hinted so darkly
at in one of your letters," demanded Phil.
Anne acted out Samuel's proposal with great spirit. The girls
shrieked with laughter and Aunt Jamesina smiled.
"It isn't in good taste to make fun of your beaux," she said
severely; "but," she added calmly, "I always did it myself."
"Tell us about your beaux, Aunty, "en treated Phil. "You must
have had any number of them."
"They're not in the past tense," retorted Aunt Jamesina.
"I've got them yet. There are three old widowers at home
who have been casting sheep's eyes at me for some time.
You children needn't think you own all the romance in the world."
"Widowers and sheep's eyes don't sound very romantic, Aunty."
"Well, no; but young folks aren't always romantic either.
Some of my beaux certainly weren't. I used to laugh at them
scandalous, poor boys. There was Jim Elwood -- he was always in
a sort of day-dream -- never seemed to sense what was going on.
He didn't wake up to the fact that I'd said `no' till a year
after I'd said it. When he did get married his wife fell out of
the sleigh one night when they were driving home from church and
he never missed her. Then there was Dan Winston. He knew too much.
He knew everything in this world and most of what is in the next.
He could give you an answer to any question, even if you asked him
when the Judgment Day was to be. Milton Edwards was real nice and
I liked him but I didn't marry him. For one thing, he took a week
to get a joke through his head, and for another he never asked me.
Horatio Reeve was the most interesting beau I ever had. But when he
told a story he dressed it up so that you couldn't see it for frills.
I never could decide whether he was lying or just letting his
imagination run loose."
"And what about the others, Aunty?"
"Go away and unpack," said Aunt Jamesina, waving Joseph at them by
mistake for a needle. "The others were too nice to make fun of.
I shall respect their memory. There's a box of flowers in
your room, Anne. They came about an hour ago."
After the first week the girls of Patty's Place settled down to a
steady grind of study; for this was their last year at Redmond
and graduation honors must be fought for persistently. Anne
devoted herself to English, Priscilla pored over classics, and
Philippa pounded away at Mathematics. Sometimes they grew tired,
sometimes they felt discouraged, sometimes nothing seemed worth
the struggle for it. In one such mood Stella wandered up to the
blue room one rainy November evening. Anne sat on the floor in a
little circle of light cast by the lamp beside her, amid a
surrounding snow of crumpled manuscript.
"What in the world are you doing?"
"Just looking over some old Story Club yarns. I wanted something
to cheer AND inebriate. I'd studied until the world seemed azure.
So I came up here and dug these out of my trunk. They are so drenched
in tears and tragedy that they are excruciatingly funny."
"I'm blue and discouraged myself," said Stella, throwing herself
on the couch. "Nothing seems worthwhile. My very thoughts are
old. I've thought them all before. What is the use of living
after all, Anne?"
"Honey, it's just brain fag that makes us feel that way, and the weather.
A pouring rainy night like this, coming after a hard day's grind, would
squelch any one but a Mark Tapley. You know it IS worthwhile to live."
"Oh, I suppose so. But I can't prove it to myself just now."
"Just think of all the great and noble souls who have lived and
worked in the world," said Anne dreamily. "Isn't it worthwhile
to come after them and inherit what they won and taught? Isn't
it worthwhile to think we can share their inspiration? And then,
all the great souls that will come in the future? Isn't it
worthwhile to work a little and prepare the way for them --
make just one step in their path easier?"
"Oh, my mind agrees with you, Anne. But my soul remains doleful
"Mrs. Douglas is dead," she said wearily. "She died soon after
I got there. She just spoke to me once -- `I suppose you'll
marry John now?' she said. It cut me to the heart, Anne.
To think John's own mother thought I wouldn't marry him
because of her! I couldn't say a word either -- there were
other women there. I was thankful John had gone out."
Janet began to cry drearily. But Anne brewed her a hot drink of
ginger tea to her comforting. To be sure, Anne discovered later
on that she had used white pepper instead of ginger; but Janet
never knew the difference.
The evening after the funeral Janet and Anne were sitting on the
front porch steps at sunset. The wind had fallen asleep in the
pinelands and lurid sheets of heat-lightning flickered across the
northern skies. Janet wore her ugly black dress and looked her
very worst, her eyes and nose red from crying. They talked
little, for Janet seemed faintly to resent Anne's efforts to
cheer her up. She plainly preferred to be miserable.
Suddenly the gate-latch clicked and John Douglas strode into the
garden. He walked towards them straight over the geranium bed.
Janet stood up. So did Anne. Anne was a tall girl and wore a
white dress; but John Douglas did not see her.
"Janet," he said, "will you marry me?"
The words burst out as if they had been wanting to be said
for twenty years and MUST be uttered now, before anything else.
Janet's face was so red from crying that it couldn't turn any redder,
so it turned a most unbecoming purple.
"Why didn't you ask me before?" she said slowly.
"I couldn't. She made me promise not to -- mother made me
promise not to. Nineteen years ago she took a terrible spell.
We thought she couldn't live through it. She implored me to
promise not to ask you to marry me while she was alive. I didn't
want to promise such a thing, even though we all thought she
couldn't live very long -- the doctor only gave her six months.
But she begged it on her knees, sick and suffering. I had to promise."
"What had your mother against me?" cried Janet.
"Nothing -- nothing. She just didn't want another woman
-- ANY woman -- there while she was living. She said if I
didn't promise she'd die right there and I'd have killed her.
So I promised. And she's held me to that promise ever since,
though I've gone on my knees to her in my turn to beg her
to let me ff."
"Why didn't you tell me this?" asked Janet chokingly.
"If I'd only KNOWN! Why didn't you just tell me?"
"She made me promise I wouldn't tell a soul," said John hoarsely.
"She swore me to it on the Bible; Janet, I'd never have done it
if I'd dreamed it was to be for so long. Janet, you'll never
know what I've suffered these nineteen years. I know I've made
you suffer, too, but you'll marry me for all, won't you, Janet?
Oh, Janet, won't you? I've come as soon as I could to ask you."
At this moment the stupefied Anne came to her senses and realized
that she had no business to be there. She slipped away and did not
see Janet until the next morning, when the latter told her the rest
of the story.
"That cruel, relentless, deceitful old woman!" cried Anne.
"Hush -- she's dead," said Janet solemnly. "If she wasn't -- but she IS.
So we mustn't speak evil of her. But I'm happy at last, Anne. And I
wouldn't have mindedwaiting so long a bit if I'd only known why."
"When are you to be married?"
"Next month. Of course it will be very quiet. I suppose people
will talk terrible. They'll say I made enough haste to snap John
up as soon as his poor mother was out of the way. John wanted to
let them know the truth but I said, `No, John; after all she was
your mother, and we'll keep the secret between us, and not cast
any shadow on her memory. I don't mind what people say, now that
I know the truth myself. It don't matter a mite. Let it all be
buried with the dead' says I to him. So I coaxed him round to
agree with me."
"You're much more forgiving than I could ever be," Anne said,
rather crossly.
"You'll feel differently about a good many things when you get to
be my age," said Janet tolerantly. "That's one of the things we
learn as we grow older -- how to forgive. It comes easier at
forty than it did at twenty."
Chapter XXXV
The Last Redmond Year Opens
"Here we are, all back again, nicely sunburned and rejoicing as a
strong man to run a race," said Phil, sitting down on a suitcase
with a sigh of pleasure. "Isn't it jolly to see this dear old
Patty's Place again -- and Aunty -- and the cats? Rusty has lost
another piece of ear, hasn't he?"
"Rusty would be the nicest cat in the world if he had no ears at all,"
declared Anne loyally from her trunk, while Rusty writhed about her lap
in a frenzy of welcome.
"Aren't you glad to see us back, Aunty?" demanded Phil.
"Yes. But I wish you'd tidy things up," said Aunt Jamesina plaintively,
looking at the wilderness of trunks and suitcases by which the four
laughing, chattering girls were surrounded. "You can talk just as well
later on. Work first and then play used to be my motto when I was a girl."
"Oh, we've just reversed that in this generation, Aunty.
OUR motto is play your play and then dig in. You can do your
work so much better if you've had a good bout of play first."
"If you are going to marry a minister," said Aunt Jamesina,
picking up Joseph and her knitting and resigning herself to the
inevitable with the charming grace that made her the queen of
housemothers, "you will have to give up such expressions as `dig in.'"
"Why?" moaned Phil. "Oh, why must a minister's wife be supposed
to utter only prunes and prisms? I shan't. Everybody on
Patterson Street uses slang -- that is to say, metaphorical
language -- and if I didn't they would think me insufferably
proud and stuck up."
"Have you broken the news to your family?" asked Priscilla,
feeding the Sarah-cat bits from her lunchbasket.
Phil nodded.
"How did they take it?"
"Oh, mother rampaged. But I stood rockfirm -- even I, Philippa Gordon,
who never before could hold fast to anything. Father was calmer.
Father's own daddy was a minister, so you see he has a soft spot
in his heart for the cloth. I had Jo up to Mount Holly, after mother
grew calm, and they both loved him. But mother gave him some frightful
hints in every conversation regarding what she had hoped for me. Oh,
my vacationpathway hasn't been exactly strewn with roses, girls dear.
But -- I've won out and I've got Jo. Nothing else matters."
"To you," said Aunt Jamesina darkly.
"Nor to Jo, either," retorted Phil. "You keep on pitying him.
Why, pray? I think he's to be envied. He's getting brains,
beauty, and a heart of gold in ME."
"It's well we know how to take your speeches," said Aunt Jamesina
patiently. "I hope you don't talk like that before strangers.
What would they think?"
"Oh, I don't want to know what they think. I don't want to
see myself as others see me. I'm sure it would be horribly
uncomfortable most of the time. I don't believe Burns was
really sincere in that prayer, either."
"Oh, I daresay we all pray for some things that we really don't
want, if we were only honest enough to look into our hearts,"
owned Aunt Jamesina candidly. "I've a notion that such prayers
don't rise very far. _I_ used to pray that I might be enabled to
forgive a certain person, but I know now I really didn't want to
forgive her. When I finally got that I DID want to I forgave her
without having to pray about it."
"I can't picture you as being unforgiving for long," said Stella.
"Oh, I used to be. But holding spite doesn't seem worth while
when you get along in years."
"That reminds me," said Anne, and told the tale of John and Janet.
"And now tell us about that romantic scene you hinted so darkly
at in one of your letters," demanded Phil.
Anne acted out Samuel's proposal with great spirit. The girls
shrieked with laughter and Aunt Jamesina smiled.
"It isn't in good taste to make fun of your beaux," she said
severely; "but," she added calmly, "I always did it myself."
"Tell us about your beaux, Aunty, "en treated Phil. "You must
have had any number of them."
"They're not in the past tense," retorted Aunt Jamesina.
"I've got them yet. There are three old widowers at home
who have been casting sheep's eyes at me for some time.
You children needn't think you own all the romance in the world."
"Widowers and sheep's eyes don't sound very romantic, Aunty."
"Well, no; but young folks aren't always romantic either.
Some of my beaux certainly weren't. I used to laugh at them
scandalous, poor boys. There was Jim Elwood -- he was always in
a sort of day-dream -- never seemed to sense what was going on.
He didn't wake up to the fact that I'd said `no' till a year
after I'd said it. When he did get married his wife fell out of
the sleigh one night when they were driving home from church and
he never missed her. Then there was Dan Winston. He knew too much.
He knew everything in this world and most of what is in the next.
He could give you an answer to any question, even if you asked him
when the Judgment Day was to be. Milton Edwards was real nice and
I liked him but I didn't marry him. For one thing, he took a week
to get a joke through his head, and for another he never asked me.
Horatio Reeve was the most interesting beau I ever had. But when he
told a story he dressed it up so that you couldn't see it for frills.
I never could decide whether he was lying or just letting his
imagination run loose."
"And what about the others, Aunty?"
"Go away and unpack," said Aunt Jamesina, waving Joseph at them by
mistake for a needle. "The others were too nice to make fun of.
I shall respect their memory. There's a box of flowers in
your room, Anne. They came about an hour ago."
After the first week the girls of Patty's Place settled down to a
steady grind of study; for this was their last year at Redmond
and graduation honors must be fought for persistently. Anne
devoted herself to English, Priscilla pored over classics, and
Philippa pounded away at Mathematics. Sometimes they grew tired,
sometimes they felt discouraged, sometimes nothing seemed worth
the struggle for it. In one such mood Stella wandered up to the
blue room one rainy November evening. Anne sat on the floor in a
little circle of light cast by the lamp beside her, amid a
surrounding snow of crumpled manuscript.
"What in the world are you doing?"
"Just looking over some old Story Club yarns. I wanted something
to cheer AND inebriate. I'd studied until the world seemed azure.
So I came up here and dug these out of my trunk. They are so drenched
in tears and tragedy that they are excruciatingly funny."
"I'm blue and discouraged myself," said Stella, throwing herself
on the couch. "Nothing seems worthwhile. My very thoughts are
old. I've thought them all before. What is the use of living
after all, Anne?"
"Honey, it's just brain fag that makes us feel that way, and the weather.
A pouring rainy night like this, coming after a hard day's grind, would
squelch any one but a Mark Tapley. You know it IS worthwhile to live."
"Oh, I suppose so. But I can't prove it to myself just now."
"Just think of all the great and noble souls who have lived and
worked in the world," said Anne dreamily. "Isn't it worthwhile
to come after them and inherit what they won and taught? Isn't
it worthwhile to think we can share their inspiration? And then,
all the great souls that will come in the future? Isn't it
worthwhile to work a little and prepare the way for them --
make just one step in their path easier?"
"Oh, my mind agrees with you, Anne. But my soul remains doleful
- pepper [´pepə]
n.胡椒 vt.加胡椒 (初中英语单词) - funeral [´fju:nərəl] n.葬礼，丧葬；困难 (初中英语单词)
- sunset [´sʌnset] n.日落；晚霞 (初中英语单词)
- plainly [´pleinli] ad.平坦地；简单地 (初中英语单词)
- suffering [´sʌfəriŋ] n.痛苦；灾害 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- forgive [fə´giv] vt.原谅，谅解，宽恕 (初中英语单词)
- nicely [naisli] ad.恰好地；谨慎地 (初中英语单词)
- wilderness [´wildənis] n.荒地，荒野 (初中英语单词)
- generation [,dʒenə´reiʃən] n.发生；世代；同龄人 (初中英语单词)
- knitting [´nitiŋ] n.编织(物)；接合；联合 (初中英语单词)
- charming [´tʃɑ:miŋ] a.可爱的；极好的 (初中英语单词)
- minister [´ministə] n.部长；大臣 v.伺候 (初中英语单词)
- vacation [və´keiʃən, vei´keiʃən] n.假期；休庭期；腾空 (初中英语单词)
- sincere [sin´siə] a.真挚的；直率的 (初中英语单词)
- romantic [rəu´mæntik] a.传奇(式)的；浪漫的 (初中英语单词)
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə] n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词)
- calmly [´kɑ:mli] ad.平静地；无风浪地 (初中英语单词)
- romance [rəu´mæns] n.中世纪骑士小说 (初中英语单词)
- needle [´ni:dl] n.针；指针 v.用针缝 (初中英语单词)
- circle [´sə:kəl] n.圆圈 v.环绕；盘旋 (初中英语单词)
- tragedy [´trædʒidi] n.悲剧；惨案；灾难 (初中英语单词)
- thankful [´θæŋkfəl] a.感激的；欣慰的 (高中英语单词)
- ginger [´dʒindʒə] n.姜；精神，元气 (高中英语单词)
- faintly [´feintli] ad.微弱地，软弱无力的 (高中英语单词)
- resent [ri´zent] vt.不满于；怨恨；忿恨 (高中英语单词)
- strode [strəud] stride的过去式 (高中英语单词)
- solemnly [´sɔləmli] ad.严肃地，庄严地 (高中英语单词)
- differently [´difrentli] ad.不同地，有差别地 (高中英语单词)
- rejoicing [ri´dʒɔisiŋ] n.高兴；欢呼 (高中英语单词)
- regarding [ri´gɑ:diŋ] prep.关于 (高中英语单词)
- strewn [stru:n] strew的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- studied [´stʌdid] a.故意的；有计划的 (高中英语单词)
- inherit [in´herit] v.继承；遗传 (高中英语单词)
- inspiration [,inspi´reiʃən] n.鼓舞；灵感；启发 (高中英语单词)
- wearily [´wiərili] ad.疲倦地；厌烦地 (英语四级单词)
- frenzy [´frenzi] n.&vt.(使)狂乱 (英语四级单词)
- pathway [´pɑ:θwei] n.小路 (英语四级单词)
- sleigh [slei] n.雪橇 vi.坐雪橇 (英语四级单词)
- mathematics [,mæθə´mætiks] n.数学 (英语四级单词)
- geranium [dʒə´reiniəm] n.天竺葵 (英语六级单词)
- wanting [´wɔntiŋ, wɑ:n-] a.短缺的；不足的 (英语六级单词)
- relentless [ri´lentləs] a.无情的；坚韧的 (英语六级单词)
- deceitful [di´si:tful] a.欺骗的，骗人的 (英语六级单词)
- minded [´maindid] a.有...心的 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- graduation [,grædʒu´eiʃən] n.毕业(典礼)；刻度 (英语六级单词)
- doleful [´dəulful] a.悲哀的；忧郁的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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