anne of the island-第48章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！





〃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　vacation　pathway　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

and　uninspired。　　I'm　always　grubby　and　dingy　on　rainy　nights。〃



〃Some　nights　I　like　the　rain　　I　like　to　lie　in　bed　and　hear　it

pattering　on　the　roof　and　drifting　through　the　pines。〃



〃I　like　it　when　it　stays　on　the　roof；〃　said　Stella。　　〃It　doesn't

always。　　I　spent　a　gruesome　night　in　an　old　country　farmhouse

last　summer。　　The　roof　leaked　and　the　rain　came　pattering　down　on

my　bed。　　There　was　no　poetry　in　THAT。　　I　had　to　get　up　in　the

‘mirk　midnight'　and　chivy　round　to　pull　the　bedstead　out　of　the

drip　　and　it　was　one　of　those　solid；　old…fashioned　beds　that

weigh　a　ton　　more　or　less。　　And　then　that　drip…drop；　drip…drop

kept　up　all　night　until　my　nerves　just　went　to　pieces。　　You've　no

idea　what　an　eerie　noise　a　great　drop　of　rain　falling　with　a

mushy　thud　on　a　bare　floor　makes　in　the　night。　　It　sounds　like

ghostly　footsteps　and　all　that　sort　of　thing。　　What　are　you

laughing　over；　Anne？〃



〃These　stories。　　As　Phil　would　say　they　are　killing　　in　more　senses

than　one；　for　everybody　died　in　them。　　What　dazzlingly　lovely　heroines

we　had　　and　how　we　dressed　them！　　Silks　　satins　　velvets　　jewels

　laces　　they　never　wore　anything　else。　　Here　is　one　of　Jane　Andrews'

stories　depicting　her　heroine　as　sleeping　in　a　beautiful　white　satin

nightdress　trimmed　with　seed　pearls。〃



〃Go　on；〃　said　Stella。　　〃I　begin　to　feel　that　life　is　worth　living

as　long　as　there's　a　laugh　in　it。〃



〃Here's　one　I　wrote。　　My　heroine　is　disporting　herself　at　a　ball

‘glittering　from　head　to　foot　with　large　diamonds　of　the　first

water。'　　But　what　booted　beauty　or　rich　attire？　　‘The　paths　of

glory　lead　but　to　the　grave。'　　They　must　either　be　murdered　or　die