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第4节

the lost road-第4节

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to see in any word or act of hers anything that was not fine and
beautiful。

In their rides they had one day stumbled upon a long…lost and
long…forgotten road through the woods; which she had claimed as
their own by right of discovery; and; no matter to what point
they set forth each day; they always returned by it。  Their way
through the woods stretched for miles。  It was concealed in a
forest of stunted oaks and black pines; with no sign of human
habitation; save here and there a clearing now long neglected and
alive only with goldenrod。  Trunks of trees; moss…grown and
crumbling beneath the touch of the ponies' hoofs; lay in their
path; and above it the branches of a younger generation had
clasped hands。  At their approach squirrels raced for shelter;
woodcock and partridge shot deeper into the network of vines and
saplings; and the click of the steel as the ponies tossed their
bits; and their own whispers; alone disturbed the silence。

〃It is an enchanted road;〃 said the girl; 〃or maybe we are
enchanted。〃

〃Not I;〃 cried the young man loyally。  〃I was never so sane; never
so sure; never so happy in knowing just what I wanted! If only
you could be as sure!〃

One day she came to him in high excitement with a book of verse。
〃He has written a poem;〃 she cried; 〃about our own woods; about
our lost road! Listen〃 she commanded; and she read to him:

〃'They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago。
Weather and rain have undone it again;
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees。
It is underneath the coppice and heath;
And the thin anemones。
Only the keeper sees
That; where the ringdove broods;
And the badgers roll at ease;
There was once a road through the woods。

〃'Yet; if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late;
When the night air cools on the trout…ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate
(They fear not men in the woods
Because they see so few);
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet;
And the swish of a skirt in the dew;
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes;
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods。 。 。 。
But there is no road through the woods。'〃


〃I don't like that at all;〃 cried the soldierman。  〃It's tootoo
sadit doesn't give you any encouragement。  The way it ends; I
mean: 'But there is no road through the woods。'  Of course there's
a road! For us there always will be。  I'm going to make sure。  I'm
going to buy those woods; and keep the lost road where we can
always find it。〃

〃I don't think;〃 said the girl; 〃that he means a real road。〃

〃I know what he means;〃 cried the lover; 〃and he's wrong! There
is a road; and you and I have found it; and we are going to
follow it for always。〃

The girl shook her head; but her eyes were smiling happily。

The 〃season〃 at Agawamsett closed with the tennis tournament; and
it was generally conceded fit and proper; from every point of
view; that in mixed doubles Lee and Miss Gardner should be
partners。  Young Stedman; the Boston artist; was the only one who
made objection。  Up in the sail…loft that he had turned into a
studio he was painting a portrait of the lovely Miss Gardner; and
he protested that the three days' tournament would sadly
interrupt his work。  And Frances; who was very much interested in
the portrait; was inclined to agree。

But Lee beat down her objections。  He was not at all interested in
the portrait。  He disapproved of it entirely。  For the sittings
robbed him of Frances during the better part of each morning; and
he urged that when he must so soon leave her; between the man who
wanted her portrait and the man who wanted her; it would be kind
to give her time to the latter。

〃But I had no idea;〃 protested Frances; 〃he would take so long。
He told me he'd finish it in three sittings。  But he's so critical
of his own work that he goes over it again and again。  He says
that I am a most difficult subject; but that I inspire him。  And
he says; if I will only give him time; he believes this will be
the best thing he has done。〃

〃That's an awful thought;〃 said the cavalry officer。

〃You don't like him;〃 reproved Miss Gardner。  〃He is always very
polite to you。〃

〃He's polite to everybody;〃 said Lee; 〃that's why I don't like
him。  He's not a real artist。  He's a courtier。  God gave him a
talent; and he makes a mean use of it。  Uses it to flatter people。
He's like these long…haired violinists who play anything you ask
them to in the lobster palaces。〃

Miss Gardner looked away from him。  Her color was high and her
eyes very bright。

〃I think;〃 she said steadily; 〃that Mr。 Stedman is a great
artist; and some day all the world will think so; too!〃

Lee made no answer。  Not because he disagreed with her estimate of
Mr。 Stedman's genius…he made no pretense of being an art
criticbut because her vehement admiration had filled him with
sudden panic。  He was not jealous。  For that he was far too humble。
Indeed; he thought himself so utterly unworthy of Frances Gardner
that the fact that to him she might prefer some one else was in
no way a surprise。  He only knew that if she should prefer some
one else not all his troop horses nor all his men could put
Humpty Dumpty back again。

But if; in regard to Mr。 Stedman; Miss Gardner had for a moment
been at odds with the man who loved her; she made up for it the
day following on the tennis court。  There she was in accord with
him in heart; soul; and body; and her sharp 〃Well played;
partner!〃 thrilled him like one of his own bugle calls。  For two
days against visiting and local teams they fought their way
through the tournament; and the struggle with her at his side
filled Lee with a great happiness。  Not that the championship of
Agawamsett counted greatly to one exiled for three years to live
among the Moros。  He wanted to win because she wanted to win。
But his happiness came in doing something in common with her;
in helping her and in having her help him; in being; if only in
play; if only for three days; her 〃partner。〃

After they won they walked home together; each swinging a fat;
heavy loving…cup。  On each was engraved:

〃Mixed doubles; Agawamsett; 1910。〃

Lee held his up so that the setting sun flashed on the silver。

〃I am going to keep that;〃 he said; 〃as long as I live。  It means
you were once my 'partner。'  It's a sign that once we two worked
together for something and won。〃  In the words the man showed
such feeling that the girl said soberly:

〃Mine means that to me; too。  I will never part with mine;
either。〃

Lee turned to her and smiled; appealing wistfully。

〃It seems a pity to separate them;〃 he said。  〃They'd look well
together over an open fireplace。〃

The girl frowned unhappily。  〃I don't know;〃 she protested。  〃I
don't know。〃

The next day Lee received from the War Department a telegram
directing him to 〃proceed without delay〃 to San Francisco; and
there to embark for the Philippines。

That night he put the question to her directly; but again she
shook her head unhappily; again she said: 〃I don't know!〃

So he sailed without her; and each evening at sunset; as the
great transport heaved her way across the swell of the Pacific;
he stood at the rail and looked back。  With the aid of the first
officer he calculated the difference in time between a whaling
village situated at forty…four degrees north and an army
transport dropping rapidly toward the equator; and so; each day;
kept in step with the girl he loved。

〃Now;〃 he would tell himself; 〃she is in her cart in front of the
post…office; and while they sort the morning mail she gossips
with the fisher folks; the summer folks; the grooms; and
chauffeurs。  Now she is sitting for her portrait to Stedman〃 (he
did not dwell long on that part of her day); 〃and now she is at
tennis; or; as she promised; riding alone at sunset down our lost
road through the woods。〃

But that part of her day from which Lee hurried was that part
over which the girl herself lingered。  As he turned his eyes from
his canvas to meet hers; Stedman; the charming; the deferential;
the adroit; who never allowed his painting to interrupt his talk;
told her of what he was pleased to call his dreams and ambitions;
of the great and beautiful ladies who had sat before his easel;
and of the only one of them who had given him inspiration。
Especially of the only one who had given him inspiration。  With
her always to uplift him; he could become one of the world's most
famous artists; and she would go down into history as the
beautiful woman who had helped him; as the wife of Rembrandt
had inspired Rembrandt; as 〃Mona Lisa〃 had made Leonardo。

Gilbert wrote: 〃It is not the lover who comes to woo; but the
lover's way of wooing!〃 His successful lover was the one who
threw the girl across his saddle and rode away with her。  But one
kind of woman does not like to have her lover approach shouting:
〃At the gallop! Charge!〃

She prefers a man not because he is masterful; but because he is
not。  She likes to believe the man needs her more than she needs
him; that she; and only she; can steady him; cheer him; keep him
true to th

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