majorie daw(马祖绿·多)-第3节
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CHAPTER V。
EDWARD DELANEY TO JOHN FLEMMING。
August 13； 1872。
The party； my dear Jack； was as dreary as possible。 A lieutenant of the
navy； the rector of the Episcopal Church at Stillwater； and a society swell
from Nahant。 The lieutenant looked as if he had swallowed a couple of his
buttons； and found the bullion rather indigestible； the rector was a pensive
youth； of the daffydowndilly sort； and the swell from Nahant was a very
weak tidal wave indeed。 The women were much better； as they always are；
the two Miss Kingsburys of Philadelphia； staying at the Seashell House；
two bright and engaging girls。 But Marjorie Daw！
The company broke up soon after tea； and I remained to smoke a cigar
with the colonel on the piazza。 It was like seeing a picture； to see Miss
Marjorie hovering around the old soldier； and doing a hundred gracious
little things for him。 She brought the cigars and lighted the tapers with her
own delicate fingers； in the most enchanting fashion。 As we sat there； she
came and went in the summer twilight； and seemed； with her white dress
and pale gold hair； like some lovely phantom that had sprung into
existence out of the smokewreaths。 If she had melted into air； like the
statue of Galatea in the play； I should have been more sorry than surprised。
It was easy to perceive that the old colonel worshipped her and she
him。 I think the relation between an elderly father and a daughter just
blooming into womanhood the most beautiful possible。 There is in it a
subtile sentiment that cannot exist in the case of mother and daughter； or
that of son and mother。 But this is getting into deep water。
I sat with the Daws until half past ten； and saw the moon rise on the
sea。 The ocean； that had stretched motionless and black against the
horizon； was changed by magic into a broken field of glittering ice；
interspersed with marvellous silvery fjords。 In the far distance the Isle of
Shoals loomed up like a group of huge bergs drifting down on us。 The
Polar Regions in a June thaw！ It was exceedingly fine。 What did we talk
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about？ We talked about the weatherand you！ The weather has been
disagreeable for several days pastand so have you。 I glided from one
topic to the other very naturally。 I told my friends of your accident； how it
had frustrated all our summer plans； and what our plans were。 I played
quite a spirited solo on the fibula。 Then I described you； or； rather； I didn't。
I spoke of your amiability； of your patience under this severe affliction； of
your touching gratitude when Dillon brings you little presents of fruit； of
your tenderness to your sister Fanny； whom you would not allow to stay in
town to nurse you； and how you heroically sent her back to Newport；
preferring to remain alone with Mary； the cook； and your man Watkins； to
whom； by the way； you were devotedly attached。 If you had been there；
Jack； you wouldn't have known yourself。 I should have excelled as a
criminal lawyer； if I had not turned my attention to a different branch of
jurisprudence。
Miss Marjorie asked all manner of leading questions concerning you。
It did not occur to me then； but it struck me forcibly afterwards； that she
evinced a singular interest in the conversation。 When I got back to my
room； I recalled how eagerly she leaned forward； with her full； snowy
throat in strong moonlight； listening to what I said。 Positively； I think I
made her like you！
Miss Daw is a girl whom you would like immensely； I can tell you that。
A beauty without affectation； a high and tender natureif one can read the
soul in the face。 And the old colonel is a noble character； too。
I am glad that the Daws are such pleasant people。 The Pines is an
isolated spot； and my resources are few。 I fear I should have found life
here somewhat monotonous before long； with no other society than that of
my excellent sire。 It is true； I might have made a target of the defenceless
invalid； but I haven't a taste for artillery； moi。
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CHAPTER VI。
JOHN FLEMMING TO EDWARD DELANEY。
August 17； 1872。
For a man who hasn't a taste for artillery； it occurs to me； my friend；
you are keeping up a pretty lively fire on my inner works。 But go on。
Cynicism is a small brass field…piece that eventually bursts and kills the
artilleryman。
You may abuse me as much as you like； and I'll not complain； for I
don't know what I should do without your letters。 They are curing me。 I
haven't hurled anything at Watkins since last Sunday； partly because I have
grown more amiable under your teaching； and partly because Watkins
captured my ammunition one night； and carried it off to the library。 He is
rapidly losing the habit he had acquired of dodging whenever I rub my ear；
or make any slight motion with my right arm。 He is still suggestive of the
wine…cellar； however。 You may break； you may shatter Watkins； if you will；
but the scent of the Roederer will hang round him still。
Ned； that Miss Daw must be a charming person。 I should certainly like
her。 I like her already。 When you spoke in your first letter of seeing a
young girl swinging in a hammock under your chamber window； I was
somehow strangely drawn to her。 I cannot account for it in the least。 What
you have subsequently written of Miss Daw has strengthened the
impression。 You seem to be describing a woman I have known in some
previous state of existence； or dreamed of in this。 Upon my word； if you
were to send me her photograph； I believe I should recognize her at a
glance。 Her manner； that listening attitude； her traits of character； as you
indicate them； the light hair and the dark eyesthey are all familiar things
to me。 Asked a lot of questions； did she？ Curious about me？ That is
strange。
You would laugh in your sleeve； you wretched old cynic； if you knew
how I lie awake nights； with my gas turned down to a star； thinking of The
Pines and the house across the road。 How cool it must be down there！ I
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long for the salt smell in the air。 I picture the colonel smoking his cheroot
on the piazza。 I send you and Miss Daw off on afternoon rambles along
the beach。 Sometimes I let you stroll with her under the elms in the
moonlight； for you are great friends by this time； I take it； and see each
other every day。 I know your ways and your manners！ Then I fall into a
truculent mood； and would like to destroy somebody。 Have you noticed
anything in the shape of a lover hanging around the colonel Lares and
Penates？ Does that lieutenant of the horse…marines or that young Stillwater
parson visit the house much？ Not that I am pining for news of them； but
any gossip of the kind would be in order。 I wonder； Ned； you don't fall in
love with Miss Daw。 I am ripe to do it myself。 Speaking of photographs；
couldn't you manage to slip one of her cartes…de…visite from her album
she must have an album； you knowand send it to me？ I will return it
before it could be missed。 That's a good fellow！ Did the mare arrive safe
and sound？ It will be a capital animal this autumn for Central Park。
Ohmy leg？ I forgot about my leg。 It's better。
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CHAPTER VII。
EDWARD DELANEY TO JOHN FLEMMIMG。
August 20； 1872。
You are correct in your surmises。 I am on the most friendly terms with
our neighbors。 The colonel and my father smoke
