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Chapter Two: A Handsome Young Man
Not long after the dancing had begun at the party, Marian Almond came up to introduce Catherine to a tall young man. She told Catherine that the young man very much wanted to meet her, that he was a cousin of Arthur Townsend, the man she was engaged to. Catherine always felt uncomfortable when meeting new people.
The young man, Mr. Morris Townsend was very handsome, and when Marian went away, Catherine stood in front of him, not knowing what to say. But before she could get embarrassed, Mr. Townsend began to talk to her with an easy smile. “What I don’t like for party! What a charming house! What an interesting family! What a pretty girl your cousin is!” Mr. Townsend looked straight into Catherine’s eyes.
She answered nothing. She only listened and looked at him.
He went on to say many other things in the same comfortable and natural way. Catherine, though silent, was not embarrassed. It seemed right that such a handsome should talk, and she should simply look at him.
The music which had been silent for a while suddenly began again. He smiled and asked to dance. Catherine gave no answer. She simply let him put his arms around her, and in a moment they were dancing around the room. When they paused, she felt she was red. And then for some moments, she stopped looking at him.
“Dose dancing make you dizzy?” he asked in a kind voice.
Catherine looked up at him, “Yes” She murmured, though she did not know why. Dancing had never made her dizzy.
“Then we will sit and talk?” said Mr. Townsend, “I will find a good place to sit.” He found a good place, a charming place, a little sofa in a corner that seemed meant for two persons. “We will talk.” the young man had said. But he still did all the talking. Catherine sat with her eyes fixed on him, smiling and thinking him very clever. She had never seen anyone so handsome before. He told her that he was a distant cousin of Arthur Townsend, and Arthur had brought him to introduce him to the family.
In fact, he was a stranger in New York. He had not been there for many years. He had been traveling around the world, living in many strange places, and had only back a month or two before. New York was very pleasant, but he felt lonely.
“People forget you.” he said, smiling at Catherine. It seemed to Catherine that no one who had seen him would ever forget him, but she kept this thought to herself.
They sat there for some time. He was very amusing, and Catherine had never heard anyone speak as well as he did, not even an actor in a theatre. And Mr. Townsend was not like an actor, he seemed so sincere, so natural.
Then Marian Almond came pushing through the crowd of dancers. She gave a little cry, which made Catherine blush, when she saw the young people still together. She told Mr. Townsend that her mother had been waiting for half an hour to introduce him to somebody. “We shall meet again!” he said to Catherine as he left her.
Her cousin took Catherine by the arm. “And what do you think of Morris?” she asked.
“Oh. Nothing particular” Catherine answered, hiding what she really felt for the first time in her life.
“Oh! I must tell him that.” cried Marian, “It will do him good. He is so terribly considered.”
“Considered?” said Catherine, staring at her cousin.
“So Arthur says, and Arthur knows about him.”
“Oh, don’t tell him.” said Catherine.
“Don’t tell him that? I have told him that many times.”
Half an hour later, Catherine saw her aunt Penniman sit by a window with Morris Townsend. She already knew the name very well. Standing in front of her, he was saying clever things, and Mrs. Penniman was smiling. Catherine moved away quickly. She did not want him to turn around and see her, but she was glad he was talking to Mrs. Penniman, because it seemed to keep him near to her.
In the carriage as they drove home, Catherine was very quiet, and Dr. Sloper talked with her sister. “Who was that young man you spent so much time with?” he asked, “He seemed very interested in you.”
“He was not interested in me.” said Mrs. Penniman, “He talked to me about Catherine.”
“Oh, aunt Penniman” Catherine murmured.
“He is very handsome and very clever.” her aunt went on, “He spoke in a, in a very charming way.”
The doctor smiled. “He is in love with Catherine then?”
“Oh, father” murmured the girl, thankful it was dark in the carriage.
“I don’t know that, but he admired her dress.”
Admiring the dress instead of the person might not seem very enthusiastic, but Catherine did not think this. She was deeply pleased.
Her father looked with a little cool smile at her expensive red and gold dress. “You see,” he said, “he thinks you have 80,000 dollars a year.”
“I don’t believe he thinks so that” said Mrs. Penniman, “He is too fine a gentleman.”
“He must be extremely fine not to think of that.”
“Well, he is.” Catherine cried before she knew it.
“I thought you had gone to sleep.” he father answered, “The hour has come.” He added to himself. “Lavinia is going to arrange a romance for Catherine.”
A few days after Mrs. Almond’s party, Morris Townsend and his cousin called at Washington Square. Catherine and her aunt were sitting together by the fire in the parlor. Arthur Townsend sat and talked to Catherine while his companion sat next to Mrs. Penniman. Catherine, usually so easy to please, tonight found Arthur rather uninteresting. She kept looking over at the other side of the room while Morris Townsend was deep in conversation with her aunt. Every few minutes, he looked over at Catherine and smiled, and she wished that she was sitting near to him. Arthur seemed to notice that Catherine was interested in his companion. “My cousin asked me to bring him.” he explained, “He seemed to want very much to come. I told him I wanted to ask you first, but he said that Mrs. Penniman had invited him.”
“We are very glad to see him.” said Catherine. She wished to talk more about him, but she did not know what to say. “I never saw him before.” she went on.
Arthur Townsend stared. “But he told me he walked with you for over half an hour the other night.”
“I mean before the other night. That was the first time.”
“Oh! He has been away from New York. He has been all around the world.”
“My aunt likes him very much.” said Catherine.
“Most people like him. He’s so brilliant, though I know some people who say my cousin is too clever.”
Catherine listened with extreme interest. “If Morris Townsend had a fault, it would naturally be that one.” she thought.
After a moment she asked, “Now that he has come back, will he stay here always?”
“If he can find something to do.” said Arthur, “He is looking around for some kind of employment or business, but he can find anything.”
“I am very sorry.” said Catherine
“Oh, he doesn’t mind.” Arthur said, “He isn’t in a hurry.”
Catherine thought about this, then asked, “Won’t his father take him into his business, his office?”
“He hasn’t got a father. He has only got a sister.” said Arthur Townsend, and he looked across at his cousin, and began to laugh, “Morris, we are talking about you.”
Morris paused in his conversation with Mrs. Penniman, and stared with a little smile. Then he stood up, “I am afraid I was not talking about you.” he said to Catherine’s companion, “Though I can’t pretend Miss. Sloper’s name did not enter our conversation.”
Catherine though that this was a wonderfully clever thing to say, but she was embarrassed by it, and she also got up. Morris Townsend stood looking at her, smiling. He put out his hand to say goodbye. He was going, and though he had not said anything to her. She was still glad that she had seen him.
“I would tell her what you have said when you go.” said Mrs. Penniman with a little laugh.
Catherine blushed. She felt they were almost laughing at her. “What in the world had this beautiful young man said?” she saw that he was looking at her kindly.
“I have not talked with you.” he said, “And that was what I came for, but it would be a good reason for coming another time. I am not afraid what your aunt will say when I go.”
After the two young men had left, Catherine, who was still blushing, gave Mrs. Penniman a serious look. “What did you say you will tell me?” she asked.
Mrs. Penniman smiled and nodded a little, “It’s a great secret, my dear child. But he is coming here to court you!”
Catherine was serious still. “Is that what he told you?”
“He didn’t say so exactly. He left me to guess it. I am good at guessing.” Mrs. Penniman gave her niece a little soft kiss, “You must be very nice to him.”
Catherine stared. She was amazed. “I don’t understand you.” she said, “she doesn’t know me.”
“Oh, yes, he does. He knows you more than you think. I have told him all about you.”
“Oh, aunt Penniman” said Catherine in a frightened voice, “He is a stranger. We don’t know him.”
“My dear Catherine, you know very well that you admire him.”
“Oh, aunt Penniman” said Catherine again. Perhaps she did admire him, though this did not seem to her a thing to talk about. But she could not believe that this brilliant stranger wished to court her, only a romantic woman like her aunt would believe that.
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Chapter Three: Who is Morris Townsend
Half an hour after the two young men had left, Dr. Sloper came into the parlor. “Mr. Morris Townsend has just been here, Austin.” Mrs. Penniman told her brother, “What a pity you missed him.”
“Who in the world is Mr. Morris Townsend?”
“The gentleman at Elizabeth’s party who likes Catherine so much.” said Mrs. Penniman
“Oh! His name is Morris Townsend, isn’t it?” the doctor said. He looked at Catherine, “And did he come here to ask you to marry him?”
“Oh, father!” murmured Catherine, turning away.
“I hope he won’t do that without your permission.” said Mrs. Penniman
“My dear, he seems to have yours.” her brother answered, “The next time he comes, you should call me. He might like to see me.”
Morris Townsend came again five days later, but Dr. Sloper was not at home at the time. Catherine was with her aunt when a servant announced the young man’s name. Mrs. Penniman sent her niece into the parlor alone. “This time is for you, for you only.” she said.
So Catherine saw Mr. Townsend alone, sitting with him in the front parlor for more than an hour. He seemed more at home this time, making himself very comfortable, and looking around with interests at the room and the furniture. His talk was light, easy and friendly. “Tell me about yourself.” he said to her with his charming smile.
Catherine had very little to tell, but she told him of her love of music and the theatre, and how she did not really enjoy reading. Morris Townsend agreed with her that books were boring. He had been two places that people had written about and they were not at all as they had been described. He had also seen all the famous actors in London and Paris, but the actors would always like the writers. They were never true to real life. He liked everything to be natural. Suddenly he stopped, looking at Catherine with his smile. “That’s what I like you for. You are so natural.” he said, “You see, I am natural myself.” He went on to talk about his great love of music and singing. “I sing a little myself.” he added, “Someday I will show you, not today, but some other time.” And then he got up to go. He had perhaps talked more about himself than about Catherine, but the truth was that Catherine had not noticed. She was thinking about only some other time had delightful sound. It seemed to suggest many more meetings in the future.
Catherine felt it was her duty to tell her father that Morris Townsend had called again, thought it made her feel ashamed and uncomfortable. She announced the fact very suddenly as soon as the doctor came into the house, and then immediately tried to leave the room. Her father stopped her just as she reached the door. “Well, my dear, did he ask you to marry him today?” the doctor said.
Catherine had no answer ready. She wanted to be amused as her father was amused, but she also wanted to be a little shy so that he would not ask the question again. She did not like it. It made her unhappy. “Perhaps he will do it next time.” she said with a little laugh, and she quickly got out of the room.
The doctor stood staring. He wondered whether his daughter was serious, and decided to find out more about this handsome young man.
The next time he saw his sister Elizabeth, he asked her about Morris Townsend. “Lavinia has already been to ask me about him.” Mrs. Almond said.
“What did you tell her?” the doctor asked.
“What I tell you that I know very little of him.”
“How disappointing Lavinia” said the doctor, “She would like him to have some romantic secret in his past. I hear that he is a distant cousin of Arthur Townsend.”
“Yes, it seems that there are Tonwsend’s and Tonwsend’s, some rather better than others. Arthur’s mother knows very little about him. Only some story that he has been wild in the past. I know his sister a little. Her name is Mrs. Montgomery. She is a widow with five children and not much money.”
“What is his profession?” asked the doctor.
“He hasn’t got any. He is looking for something. I believe he was once in the Nevi.”
“Once, and what is his age?”
“More than thirty, I think. Arthur told me that he inherited a little money, which is perhaps why he left the Nevi, and he spent it all in a few years. He traveled all over the world, lived in the foreign countries, amused himself. He has recently come back to America. He told Arthur that he now wants to start his life seriously.”
“Is he serious about Catherine then?”
“I don’t see why you are surprised?” said Mrs. Almond, “It seems to me that you have never been fair to Catherine. You must remember that she will one day have 30,000 dollars a year.”
The doctor looked at his sister for a moment. “I see that you remember it.”
Mrs. Almond blushed. “I don’t mean that is the only good thing about her. I simply mean that it is important. You seem to think that nobody will ever want to marry her.
“Why should I think different, Elizabeth?” the doctor said, “How many young men have come courting Catherine even with her expected fortune? None! Which is why Lavinia is so charmed that there is now a lover in the house. It is the first time.
“I think young men are rather afraid of Catherine.” said the doctor’s wise sister, “She seems older than they are. She is so large and she dresses so richly. And older more experienced men would recognize all the good things in her character, and would find her delightful.”
“And Mr. Townsend, what are his reasons for courting Catherine? Is he sincere in liking her?”
“It is very possible that he is sincere. Lavinia is sure of it.”
Dr. Sloper thought for a moment. “If he does not work, what are his means?”
“I have no idea. He lives with his sister and her children on second avenue.”
“A widow with five children? Do you mean he lives upon her?”
Mrs. Almond looked at her brother a little impatiently. “Why not ask Mrs. Montgomery yourself?” she said.
“Perhaps I will.” said the doctor.
Dr. Sloper was more amused than annoyed by the idea of Mr. Townsend courting his daughter. He was quite willing to believe the best of the young man, and if he was a sincere honest man. It did not matter if he was poor, since Catherine had no need of a rich husband. “The next time he comes,” he told Mrs. Penniman, “You must invite to dinner.” Mrs. Penniman was happy to pass on her brother’s invitation, which Morris Townsend accepted.
And the dinner was arranged. Two or three people were invited as well. And although Dr. Sloper told very little to the young man during the meal, he watched him carefully. At the end of the meal, when the ladies had gone up to the parlor, leaving the men to their drinking, the doctor gave him some wine and asked him several questions. Morris Townsend was happy to talk, and the doctor sat quietly, watching his bright handsome face. “He is clever, a good talker and very self-confident.” Catherine’s father thought, “And he dresses very well, but I don’t think I like him.” The doctor, however, kept his thoughts to himself.
Later when the men joined the ladies in the parlor, Morris Townsend went over to Catherine, who was standing before the fire in her red evening dress. “Your father doesn’t like me.” said the young man.
“I don’t see how you know.” said Catherine, blushing.
“I can feel these things. You ask him, and you will see.”
“I would rather not ask him, if there is any danger of his saying what you think.”
Morris gave her a little sad smile. “So you will allow him to say things against me, and not tell him he is wrong?”
“I never argue with him,” said Catherine, “and he won’t say anything against you. He doesn’t know you enough.”
Morris Townsend gave a loud laugh, and Catherine began to blush again. “I shall never talk about you.” she said.
“That is very well, but I would prefer you to say that it doesn’t matter what your father thinks.”
“But it would matter. I couldn’t say that!” the girl cried.
He stared at her, smiling a little. And just for a moment there was an impatient look in those fine eyes, but he spoke softly and sadly, “Then I must try to make him like me.
The next time the doctor visited Mrs. Almond. He told her that he had now met Morris Townsend. “He is certainly a fine looking young man.” he said.
“But what do you think of him as a father?” Mrs. Almond asked, “Lavinia tells me that Catherine is in love.”
“Well, she must stop being in love. He is not a gentleman. He is extremely charming, and completely insincere.”
“You have decided very quickly.” said Mrs. Almond.
“Not at all! I have been studying people for a lifetime, and quite able to make a judgment in a single evening.”
“Very possibly you are right. But the thing is for Catherine to see it.”
“I will give her a pair of glasses.” said the doctor.
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Chapter Four: Morris Townsend looks for a position
If it were true that Catherine was in love, she was certainly very quiet about it. She had told Morris Townsend that she would not mention him to her father, and so she said nothing about Morris’s continuous visits. It was only polite of course from Morris to visit after the dinner at Washington Square, and only natural for him to continue visiting. These visits had quickly become the most important thing in Catherine’s life. She was very happy. She did not yet know what the future would bring, and she was too modest to expect anything. She was just grateful for the present---the sound of his voice, the words he spoke to her, the expression of his face.
Dr. Slope suspected Morris Townsend’s visits and noticed how quiet Catherine had become. “What is going on in this house?” he asked his sister.
“Going on, Austin?” said Mrs. Penniman.
“Why haven’t you told me that Mr. Morris Townsend is coming to this house four or five times a week? I am away all day and I see nothing.”
Mrs. Penniman thought for a moment. “Dear Austin,” she said at last, “I can not tell a secret.”
“Whose secret? Catherine’s? Mr. Townsend’s? If it is his, I think it is extremely foolish of you to have secrets with young men. You don’t know where they will leave you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” said Mrs. Penniman, “I take a great interest in Mr. Townsend. I don’t hide that, but that is all.”
“It is quite enough, and what do you find so interesting about Mr. Townsend, his good looks?”
“His misfortunes, Austin, I can not tell you his story, but he would tell it to you himself, if he thought you would listen to him kindly.”
The doctor gave a laugh, “I shall ask him very kindly to leave Catherine alone.”
“Catherine probably says kind things to him since that.”
“Has she said that she loved him? Do you mean that?”
Mrs. Penniman stared at the floor. “She doesn’t talk to me about him. I think she is very happy. That is all I can say.”
“Townsend wants to marry her, is that what you mean?”
“He admires Catherine greatly.” said Mrs. Penniman, “And he says the most charming things about her.”
“And these misfortunes that you refused to tell me about, did they make him poor?”
“It is a long story.” said Mrs. Penniman, “And all I can say is that he has been wild in the past, but he has paid for it.”
The doctor smoked his cigar in silence, then said, “I am told he lives with his sister and does nothing for himself.”
“He is looking very seriously for a position.” said Mrs. Penniman, “He hopes everyday to find one.”
“Exactly! He is looking for it here, over there in the front parlor---the position of husband of a weak woman with a large fortune. That will suit him perfectly.
Mrs. Penniman got up and looked at her brother a little angrily. “My dear Austin,” she said, “You are making a great mistake if you think Catherine is a weak woman.” And with this she walked away.
The family in Washington Square spent every Sunday evening at Mrs. Almond’s house. On the Sunday after his conversation with Mrs. Penniman, Dr. Sloper went off to another room to talk to his brother-in -law about business. He came back later to find that Morris Townsend had arrived and was sitting on the sofa beside Catherine. There were several friends of the family present and it was easy for the two young people to sit and talk privately. The doctor saw at once however that his daughter was painfully conscious that he was watching her. She sat very still with her eyes down, blushing deeply. Dr. Sloper felt so sorry for her that he turned his eyes away. “Poor Catherine,” he thought, “it must be very nice for her to have a beautiful young man court her. Perhaps I should give him another chance.”
A little later when Morris Townsend was standing alone, the doctor crossed the room towards him. The young man looked at him with a little smile. “He is amazingly conceited.” thought the doctor. Then he said, “I am told that you are looking for a position.”
“Yes, I should like some work,” Morris Townsend replied, “but I fear that I have no special talents.”
“You are too modest.” said the doctor, “I know nothing of you except what I see, but I see by your face you are extremely intelligent.”
“Ah…” Townsend said, “I don’t know what to answer when you said that. You advise me then not to give up hope?”
The question seemed to have a double meaning, and the doctor looked at him for a moment before he answered. “No young man should ever give up hope. If he does not succeed in one thing, he can try another.”
Morris Townsend stared down at his shoes. “Were you kindly suggesting a position for me?” he then asked, looking up and smiling.
This annoyed the doctor and he paused for a moment. Then he said, “I sometimes hear a possibility. How would you feel for example about leaving New York?”
“I am afraid I could not do that. I must find my fortune in this city. You see,” added Morris Townsend, “I have responsibilities here. I have a sister who depends on me.”
“Finer feeling is very important,” said Dr. Sloper, “I often think there is not enough of it in our city. I think I have heard of your sister.”
“It is possible, but I doubt it, she lives so very quietly.”
“As quietly, you mean?” the doctor went on with a short laugh, “has a lady may do with several small children?”
“I help with my little nephews and nieces.” said Morris Townsend, “I am their teacher.”
“That is very good, but it is not a career.”
“It won’t make my fortune.” agreed the young man.
Later in the evening, the doctor spoke to Mrs. Almond. “I should like to see his sister.” he said, “Mrs. Montgomery, Mr. Townsend tells me he teaches her children.”
“I will try and arrange it for you.” said Mrs. Almond, “I must say he doesn’t look in the least like a school teacher.”
And when Morris Townsend spoke to Catherine later, he did not sound like a school teacher, either. “Will you meet me somewhere tomorrow?” he murmured, “I have something particular to say to you, very particular.”
“Can’t you come to the house? Can’t you say it there?” Catherine asked, lifting her frightened eyes.
Townsend shook his head sadly. “I can not enter your doors again. Your father has insulted me.”
“Insulted you?”
“He dislikes me because I am poor.”
“Oh, you are wrong. You misunderstood him.” said Catherine, getting up from her chair.
“He laughed at me for having no position. I took it quietly only because he belongs to you.”
“I don’t know what he thinks.” said Catherine, “I am sure he means to be kind. You must not be too proud.”
“I will be proud only of you, my dearest.” said Morris, and Catherine blushed, “Will you meet me tomorrow evening in the garden in the square? It is very quiet there. No one will see us.”
Catherine hesitated. Young ladies do not go out alone in the evenings to meet young men in the gardens. “I am not, not very brave.” she said.
“Ah, then, if you are afraid, what shall we do?”
She hesitated again, then at last said, “You must come to the house. I am not afraid of that.”
“I would rather meet in the square.” the young man said, “You know how empty it is often. No one will see us.”
“I don’t care who sees us, but leave me now.”
He left her. He had got what he wanted. Catherine met the young man next day in the place she had chosen, among the elegant furniture of the New York parlor. Mrs. Penniman, as usual, left the two young people alone to enjoy their romantic meeting.
“We must decide what to do.” said Morris. He had already on earlier visits told Catherine that he loved her. He had put his arm around her, and taking kisses, which had made her heart beat very fast. She felt deeply wonderfully happy, but she was also confused, and a little frightened, after Morris had kissed her on his last visit. She had begged him to go away, to let her think. She felt his kisses on her lips for a long time afterwards, and she could not think clearly at all. What would she do if as she feared her father told her that he did not like Morris Townsend?
Today, however, when Morris spoke about deciding something, she felt that it was the truth, and said simply, “We must do our duty. We must speak to my father. I will do it tonight. You must do it tomorrow.”
“It is very good of you to do it first.” Morris answered. “The young man, the happy lover usually does that.”
“You must promise me to be gentle with my father.”
“I shall try,” Morris promised, “but do you know what your father will say? He will tell you I want your money.”
“Oh!” murmured Catherine softly, “How wrong he is!”
Morris gave her a fond little kiss.
“I shall tell him that he is wrong.” said Catherine.
“He will argue with you.”
Catherine looked at her lover for a minute, and then she said, “I shall persuade him, but I am glad we shall be rich.”
Morris turned away. “No, it’s a misfortune.” he said, “It is from that that our problems will come.”
“If it is the worst misfortune, we are not so unhappy. I will persuade him, and after that, we shall be very glad we have money.”
Morris listened to these sensible words in silence. “You must speak for me on this. I can not do it myself.”
Catherine, too, was silent for a while. She looked at Morris who was staring out of the window. “Morris,” she said suddenly, “are you very sure you love me?”
He turned around and came to her at once. “My own dearest, can you doubt it?”
“I have only known it five days,” she said, “but now it seems to me something I could not live without.”
“You will never need to try.” he gave a gentle laugh, then he added, “There is something you must tell me, too.”
Catherine had closed her eyes, and kept them closed.
“You must tell me,” Morris went on, “that if your father is against me, you will still be faithful.”
Catherine opened her eyes and stared at him. She could give no better promise than what he read there.
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Chapter Five: Dr. Sloper decides
Catherine listened for her father when he came in that evening, and she heard him go to his study. She sat quiet though her heart was beating fast. For nearly half an hour, then she went and knocked on his door. On entering the room, she found him in the chair beside the fire, with a cigar and the evening paper.
“I have something to say to you.” she began very gently.
“I shall be happy to hear it, my dear.” said her father. He waited, looking at her while she stared silently at the fire.
“I am engaged to be married.” Catherine said at last.
The doctor did not show how surprised he was. “You are right to tell me,” he said, “and who is the happy man?”
“Mr. Morris Townsend.” as she said her lover’s name, Catherine looked at him. Then she looked back at the fire.
“When did this happen?” the doctor asked.”
“This afternoon, two hours ago.”
“Was Mr. Townsend here?”
“Yes, father, in the front parlor.” she was very glad that she did not have to tell him that her engagement had taken place in the garden of the square.
Her father was silent for a moment. “Why did Mr. Townsend not tell me? It is his duty to speak to me first.”
“He means to tell you tomorrow.”
The doctor smoked his cigar for a while. “You have gone very fast.” he said at last.
“Yes.” Catherine answered simply, “I think we have.”
Her father looked at for a moment. “I am not surprised that Mr. Townsend likes you. You are so simple and good.”
“I don’t know why, but he does like me. I am sure of that, and I like him very much.”
“But you have known him a very short time, my dear.”
“Oh,” said Catherine, “it doesn’t take long to like a person once you have begun.”
“Of course you are no longer a little girl.”
“I feel very old and very wise.” said Catherine smiling.
“I am afraid that you will soon feel older and wiser. I don’t like your engagement.”
“Oh,” said Catherine softly, getting up from her chair.
“No, my dear, I am sorry to give you pain, but I don’t like it. Why didn’t you speak to me first?”
Catherine hesitated for a moment, then she said, “I was afraid that you didn’t like Mr. Townsend.”
“You were quite right. I don’t like him!”
“Dear father, you don’t know him.” said Catherine gently. She remembered Morris’ warning. “You think he is only interested in my fortune.”
Dr. Sloper looked up at her with his cold reasonable eyes. “I am not accusing Mr. Townsend defect. You are an honest, kind-hearted girl, and there is nothing impossible in an intelligent young man loving you for yourself. But the main thing we know about this young man is that he has spent his own fortune in amusing himself. There is a good reason to believe that he will spend yours, too.”
“That is not the only thing we know about him. He is kind, and generous, and true.” said poor Catherine. She was not used to arguing, and her voice trembled a little. “And the fortune he spent was very small.”
The doctor stood up. He held her for a moment, and kissed her. “You won’t think me cruel?” he said.
The question filled Catherine with fear, but she said, “No, dear father, because if you knew how I feel, you will be so kind, so gentle.”
“Yes, I think I know how you feel.” the doctor said, “I will be very kind, be sure of that, I will see Mr. Townsend tomorrow. Meanwhile, do not tell anyone you are engaged.”
The next afternoon the doctor stayed at home, waiting for Morris Townsend’s visit. When the young man arrived, Dr. Sloper began at once. “Catherine told me yesterday what has been going on between you.” he said, “I am very surprised. It was only the other day that you first met my daughter.”
“It was not long ago certainly.” said Morris, “My interest in Miss. Sloper began the first I saw her.”
“Did it not start before you met her?” the doctor asked.
Morris looked at him. “I had certainly already heard that she was a charming girl.”
“Naturally you will speak well of her,” said the doctor, “but that is not the only thing that is necessary. I told Catherine yesterday that I did not like her engagement.”
“She told me, and I was very sorry to hear it. I am greatly disappointed.” said Morris, looking at the floor.
“Did you really expect me to say I was delighted?”
“Oh! No, I had an idea you didn’t like me.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“The fact that I am poor.”
“It is certainly a fact I must consider.” said the doctor, “I do not dislike you, but you do not appear to be a suitable husband for my daughter, who is a weak woman with a large fortune.”
Morris listened politely. “I don’t think Miss. Sloper is a weak woman.” he said.
“I have known my child twenty years, and you have known her six weeks. But whether she is weak or not, you are still a man without a profession, and without money.”
“Yes, that is my weakness. You think I only want your daughter’s money.”
“I don’t say that. I only say that you are the wrong kind of man to marry my daughter.”
“A man who loves and admires her deeply? Is that the wrong kind of man?” Morris said with his handsome smile, “I don’t care about her fortune, not in anyway.”
“Fine words.” said the doctor, “But you are still the wrong kind of man.”
“You think I would spend her money, is that it?”
“Yes, I am afraid I do think that.”
“It is true that I was foolish when I was younger,” said Morris, “but I have changed now. I spent my own fortune because it was my own. That does not mean I would spend Miss Sloper’s fortune. I would take good care of it.”
“Taking too much care would be as bad as taking too little. Both ways would give Catherine an unhappy life.”
“I think you are very unjust.” said the young man.
“I can understand that you think that.”
“Do you want to make your daughter miserable?”
“I accept she will think I am cruel for a year.”
“Ah… a year!” said Morris with a laugh.
“For a lifetime then! She will be miserable either way, with you or without you.”
Here at last Morris became angry. “You are not polite, Sir!” he cried.
“I am afraid that is your fault. You argued too much. I can not accept you as a son-in-law! And I shall advise Catherine to give you up, which she will do!”
“Are you sure that she will give me up?” asked Morris, “I don’t think she will! She has gone too far to stop.”
The doctor stared at him coldly for a moment.
“I will say no more, Sir!” said Morris, and he left the room.
When the doctor told Mrs. Almond about his meeting with Morris Townsend, she thought that he had been perhaps too hard on the young man. “Lavinia thinks I am being very cruel.” said the doctor.”
“And how is Catherine taking it?” said Mrs. Almond.
“There have been no noisy tears or anything of that kind.”
“I am very sorry for Catherine.” Mrs. Almond said, “Now she will have to choose between her father and her lover.”
“I am sorry for her, too.” said the doctor, “It is just possible of course that I have made the greatest mistake of my life, so I shall go and visit Mr. Townsend’s sister, who will almost certainly tell me I have done the right thing.”
The visit was arranged for a few days later. And at appointed time the doctor arrived at a little house on the second avenue, where Mrs. Montgomery received him in a small front parlor.
She was a little woman with fair hair and seemed rather alarmed by a visit from such a fine gentleman as Dr. Sloper. He explained the situation, but Mrs. Montgomery was at first a little unwilling to talk about her brother. “I can understand,” said the doctor, “that it is difficult for you to say unpleasant things about your own brother. But if my daughter married him, her happiness would depend on whether he was a good man or not.”
“Yes, I see that.” said Mrs. Montgomery.
“And I must remind you,” said the doctor, “that after my death Catherine will have 30,000 dollars a year.”
Mrs. Montgomery listened with wide eyes. “Your daughter will be very rich.” she said softly.
“Exactly, but if Catherine married without my consent, she would only have 10,000 dollars she inherited from her mother. She won’t get a penny from me. I will be happy to inform Mr. Townsend of that.”
Mrs. Montgomery thought for a while. “Why do you dislike Morris so much?” she asked at last, looking up.
“I don’t dislike him. He is a charming young man. But I dislike him as a son-in-law, who must take care of my daughter. She is so soft, so weak. A bad husband could make her very miserable indeed, because she is not clever enough, strong enough to fight her own battles. That is why I have come to you. You may not agree with me of course. You may want to tell me to go away. But I think your brother is selfish and lazy. And I should like to know if I am right.”
She looked at him in surprise. “But how did you find out that he was selfish?” she said, “He hides it so well.” Then she turned her head away, and the doctor saw her tears in her eyes.
He waited for a moment, then said suddenly, “Your brother has made you very unhappy, hasn’t he? Tell me, do you give him money?”
“Yes, I have given him money.” said Mrs. Montgomery.
“And you have very little money yourself. And also five children to take care of, I believe.”
“It is true that… I am very poor.” she said.
“Your brother tells me,” said the doctor, “that he helps you with your children. He is their teacher.”
Mrs. Montgomery stared for a moment, then said quickly, “Oh, yes! He teaches them, Spanish.”
The doctor laughed, “That must be a great help to you. So,” he went on, “I see that I was right. Your brother lives on you, takes your money, and is extremely selfish.”
There were tears again in Mrs. Montgomery’s eyes. “But he is still my brother.” she said, her voice trembling a little, “You must not believe that his character is bad.”
The doctor spoke more gently, “I am sorry that I have upset you. It’s all for my poor Catherine. You must know her, and then you will see.”
He stood up to go. Mrs. Montgomery also stood up. “I should like to know your daughter.” she answered, and then very suddenly, “Don’t let her marry him!”
And Dr. Sloper went away with these words ringing in his ears.
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Chapter Six: Catherine tries to be good
The doctor was surprised and even a little disappointed to see that Catherine did not appear to be angry or upset about what had happened. He wanted to be kind to her, but she did not seem to want or need his kindness. “I am glad I have such a good daughter.” he said after several days had passed.
“I am trying to be good.” she answered turning away.
“If you have anything to say about Mr. Townsend, I shall be happy to listen.”
“Thank you.” said Catherine, “I have nothing to say at present.”
He never asked whether she had seen Morris again. She had in fact not seen him. She had only written him a long letter. “I am in great trouble.” she wrote, “Do not doubt my love for you, but let me wait a little and think.” But her thoughts were not at all clear. She could not really believe that her father would change his mind about Morris. She just hoped that in some mysterious way the situation would get better. Meanwhile, she felt she must try to be a good daughter, to be patient, and to search for a peaceful way out of their difficulty. She received no help from her aunt in this search. Mrs. Penniman was enjoying all the excitement of the romance and had no sensible advice to offer to poor Catherine. “You must act, my dear.” she said, “The important thing is to act.”
Mrs. Penniman had also written to Morris and had arranged to meet him secretly in a café on the other side of the city. She had not told her niece about this meeting, and so was a little embarrassed when Morris arrived, and asked if she had a message for him from Catherine. “Not exactly a message,” she said, “I didn’t ask her for one, but she will be true to you until death.”
“Oh, I hope it won’t come to that.” said Morris
“My brother will not listen to argument.”
“Do you mean he won’t change his mind?”
Mrs. Penniman was silent for a moment, then she smiled at Morris, “Marry Catherine first, and tell him afterwards.” she cried, “That is the way I see it. A secret marriage!”
The young man stared at her, “Do you advise me to do that, to marry her without her father’s consent?”
She was a little frightened, but went on, “If you marry Catherine, you will show my brother that he has been wrong about you. He will see that it is not just because you like… you like the money.”
Morris hesitated, then said, “But I do like the money.”
“But you don’t like it more than Catherine, and when he realizes that, he will think it is his duty to help you.”
Morris looked for some moments at the floor. At last he looked up and said, “Do you think there is already a will leaving money to Catherine?”
“I suppose so, even doctor must die.” she replied.
“And you believe he would certainly change it, if I married Catherine?”
“Yes, but then he would change it back again.”
“But I can’t depend on that.” said Morris.
“Do you want to depend on it?” Mrs. Penniman asked.
He blushed a little, “I do not want to injure Catherine.”
“You must not be afraid, be afraid of nothing, and everything will go well.”
Mrs. Penniman told Catherine that evening that she had had a meeting with Morris Townsend, and for almost the first time in her life Catherine felt angry. “Why did you see him? I don’t think it was right.”
“I was so sorry for him, and you wouldn’t see him, my dear.” said aunt Lavinia.
“I have not seen him because my father has forbidden it.” Catherine said very simply. This annoyed Mrs. Penniman, and she began to read evening newspaper, so that Catherine would have to ask her about her meeting with Morris. But it was several minutes before Catherine finally spoke, “What did he say?” she asked.
“He said he is ready to marry you any day.”
Catherine made no answer to this, and after a few minutes Mrs. Penniman added that Morris looked very tired. Catherine got up from her seat and went to the fire. Mrs. Penniman hesitated for a moment. “He said he was afraid of only one thing that you will be afraid.”
The girl turned very quickly, “afraid of what?”
“Afraid of your father”
Catherine turned back to the fire again. After a pause, she said, “I am afraid of my father.”
Mrs. Penniman got up quickly from her chair and went to her niece. “Are you going to give him up then?”
For sometime Catherine stared at the fire and did not move. Then she lifted her head and looked at her aunt. “Why do you make it so difficult for me?” she said, “I don’t think you understand, or that you know me. You had better not have any more meetings with Mr. Townsend. I don’t think it is right. My father wouldn’t like it if he knew.”
“And you will inform him, is that what you mean? Well, I am not afraid of my brother, but I shall not try to help again. You are too ungrateful. I am disappointed, but your father will not be. Good night!” And with this, Mrs. Penniman went off to her room.
Catherine sat alone by the parlor fire, lost in her thoughts for more than an hour. She felt that to displease her father was a terrible thing, but she had made a plan and must go on with it. Her father was in his study, and it was eleven o’clock when she finally knocked on his door. Even when he answered, she was too afraid to go in. After a while, he came and opened the door for her. “What’s the matter?” asked the doctor, “You are standing there like a ghost.” She went into the room, and her father looked at her for a few moments, waiting for her to speak. He then went back to his writing desk and sat down, turning his back on his daughter. At last, she began, “You told me if I have something more to say about Mr. Townsend, you will be glad to listen to it.”
“Exactly, my dear.” said the doctor, not turning around.
“I would like to see him again.”
“To say goodbye?” asked the doctor.
“No, father, not that, at least not forever.”
“You have not finished with him then.”
“No,” said Catherine, “I have asked him to… to wait.”
Her father, turning around in his chair, looked at her with his cold eyes, and she was afraid he was going to be angry. “You are a dear faithful child.” he said at last, “Come here to your father.” And he got up, holding his hands out towards his daughter. The words were surprised, and they gave her great happiness. She went to him, and he put his arm around her gently and kissed her. After this he said, “Do you wish to make me very happy?”
“I would like to, but I am afraid I can’t.” Catherine answered, “Do you want me to give him up?”
“Yes, I want you to give him up.” He still held her, looking into her face.
She looked away, and they were both silent for a long time. “You are happier than I am, father.” she said at last.
“I have no doubt that you are unhappy now, but it is better to be unhappy for three months than miserable for the rest of your life.”
“Yes, if that were true.” said Catherine.
“It is true. I am sure of that.” When she did not answer, he went on, “Don’t you believe that I want the best for you future? I know how bad man can be, how false.”
She moved away from him. “He is not false. What has he done? What do you know?”
“He has never done anything. That is the problem. He is lazy, and selfish, and thinks only of himself!”
“Oh, father, don’t say bad things about him.” she cried.
“No, that would be a great mistake. You may do what you choose.” he added, turning away.
“If I see him again, will you forgive me?”
“No, I will not.”
“I only want to see him once, to tell him to wait.”
“To wait for what?”
“Until you know him better. Until you consent.”
“I know him well enough, and I shall never consent.”
“But we can wait a long time.” said poor Catherine.
“Of course, you can wait until I die if you like.” said the doctor quietly. Your engagement will have one delightful effect upon you. It will make you extremely impatient for my death, and think how impatient he will be, too.”
Catherine gave a cry of a natural horror and stood staring. Her father’s woods had terrible ugliness, and she did not know what to say. Suddenly, however, an idea came to her. “If I don’t marry before your death, I will not after.” she said, “but I think one day Morris might persuade you.”
“I shall never speak to him again. I dislike him too much!” said the doctor, “And you can tell Mr. Townsend when you see him again, and if you marry without my consent, I will not leave you a penny of my money. That will interest him more than anything else you can tell him.
She looked at her father and her eyes filled with tears. “I think I will see him then.” she murmured.
“Exactly as you choose, but if you see him, you will be an ungrateful cruel child. And you will give your old father the greatest pain of his life.”
The tears then ran down Catherine’s face, and she moved towards her father with a little cry. But he only took her by the arm, went to the door and opened for her to go out. After she had left, he walked around his study for a while, a little annoyed but also amused. “My word,” he said to himself, “I believe she will go on with it.” He looked forward to seeing what would happen next.
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Chapter Seven: Catherine decides
The next day Dr. Sloper called Mrs. Penniman into his study. “I don’t want Catherine or you,” he said coldly, “to see young Townsend again, and I expect you to obey me.”
“Do you wish to murder your child?” Mrs. Penniman asked.
“No, I wish to make her live, and be happy.”
“You will kill her. She had a terrible night.”
“She won’t die of one bad night, none of several.”
It was true that Catherine had had a terrible sleepless night. But thought her heart was breaking, she tried not to show her pain to the world. Mrs. Penniman was very disappointed to see that there were no tears in her niece’s eyes when she came down to breakfast.
That afternoon Catherine wrote to Morris, and the next day he came into the front parlor and stood before her. She thought that he looked more beautiful than ever. “Why have you made me wait so long?” he asked, “Every hour has seemed like years. Have you decided to keep me, or give me up?”
“Oh, Morris” she cried, “I never thought giving you up.”
“What then were you waiting for?”
“I thought my father might… might look at it differently, but he looks at it still in the same way.”
“Why have you sent for me?”
“Because I want to see you.” cried Catherine.
Morris watched her for a moment. “Will you marry me tomorrow?” he asked suddenly.
“Tomorrow?”
“Next week then, any time in the next month”
“Isn’t it better to wait?” said Catherine.
“To wait for what?”
She did not know for what, but she felt too afraid. “Until we have thought about it a little more.”
He shook his head sadly. “I thought you have been thinking about it these three weeks. Do you want to go on doing that for five years? My poor girl.” he added, “You are not faithful to me.”
Catherine blushed, and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, how can you say that?” she murmured.
“You must take me or leave me.” said Morris, “You can’t please your father and me. You must choose between us.”
“I have chosen you.” she said.
“Then marry me next week.”
She stood staring at him. “Isn’t there any other way?”
“None that I know of!” He turned away, walked to the window and stood looking out. “You are very afraid of your father.” he said at last.
“I suppose I must be.” she said simply.
“Your fear of him seems greater than you love for him.”
“Oh, Morris” she said, going to him. After a while, she told Morris what her father had said. “If I marry without his consent, I shall not inherit any of his fortune. He told me to tell you that. He seemed to think…”
Morris blushed angrily. “What did he seem to think?”
“Had it will make a difference?”
“It will make a difference in many things, but it will not change my love for you.”
“We shall not want the money.” said Catherine, “You know that I have my own fortune.”
Morris was silent for a while. “Do you think that he will be cruel to you forever? That he will never change his mind about disinheriting you?”
“If I marry you, he will think I am not good.”
“Then he will never forgive you.” cried Morris.
Catherine suddenly felt lonely and afraid. “Oh, Morris” she cried, putting her head to his shoulder, “You must love me very much. I will marry you as soon as you want.”
“My dear good girl!” he cried, looking down at her.
She had given him a promise, but he was not quite sure what he would do with it.
For about a week life in Washington Square continued much as before, and Dr. Sloper waited to see what would happen. He told his sister Elizabeth that he had never expected Catherine to give him so much excitement. “It is not very kind of you.” said Mrs. Almond, “to find amusement in your daughter situation.”
“I will take her to Europe.” said the doctor, “to give her some new ideas.”
“She won’t forget him in Europe.”
“He will forget her then.”
Mrs. Almond looked serious. “Would you really like that?”
“Extremely” said the doctor.
Mrs. Penniman, meanwhile, arranged another secret meeting outside of the church. She had been a little alarmed by her brother’s coldness towards her. “I think you should wait for a while before you marry,” she told Morris, “wait until my brother is less angry.”
The young man was very annoyed. “Last week you advised me to marry immediately.” he said, “Catherine has already agreed to this, so what can I do?”
“Catherine loves you so much that you can do anything.” said Mrs. Penniman, “You can change your plans this way or that way, and she will not be upset with you.”
Morris looked at her, but said nothing. And soon after that, they parted.
Catherine, of course, knew nothing of her aunt’s meeting with Morris, and she had not spoken to her father since the evening she went to see him in his study. At last, however, she told him that she had seen Morris Townsend again. “I think we shall marry before very long.” she said.
The doctor looked at her coldly from head to foot. “Why do you tell me that? It is of no interest to me.”
Catherine turned away for a moment. There were tears in her eyes. “Oh, father” she cried, “don’t you care?”
“Not at all! Once you marry, it is the same to me when, or where, or why you do it.”
But the next day he spoke to her in a different way. “Are you going to marry in the next four or five months?”
“I don’t know, father.” said Catherine, “It is not very easy for us to decide.”
“Wait then, for six months, and meanwhile I will take you to Europe. I will very much like you to go.” This sign of her father’s interest in her gave Catherine great happiness.
“It would be very delightful to go to Europe.” she said, but her happiness soon disappeared when she realized that she would not see Morris for several months.
Mrs. Penniman was not invited, and she understood very well why the doctor had made this plan. “He thinks the journey will make you forget Morris.” she told her niece.
Catherine could not decide whether to obey her father’s wishes or not. She wrote to Morris and asked him to meet her in the square. They met the next day, and during a long walk, she told him about her father’s invitation. “He thinks I will forget you.” said Catherine.
“Well, my dear, perhaps you will. There are so many exciting things to see in Europe.”
“Please, don’t say that.” Catherine answered gently, “I am not interested in seeing Europe.”
“You should go.” said Morris, “It will please your father, and perhaps he will forgive you and change his mind about disinheriting you.”
“And not get married for so long?”
“We can marry when you come back.” said Morris, “You can buy your wedding clothes in Paris.”
They were away in fact for a year. And during the first six months, the name of Morris Townsend was not mentioned. The doctor found too much to interest him in Europe, but although Catherine was always quiet and obedient. “She was,” her father thought, “a very unintelligent companion.”
One day at the end of summer, they were walking together in a valley in the mountains. It was beginning to get dark, and the air was cold and sharp. Suddenly, the doctor stopped and looked at Catherine. “Have you given him up?” he asked. The question was unexpected, but Catherine did not hesitate. “No, father” she answered. He looked at her for some moments without speaking. “Does he write to you?” he asked.
“Yes, about twice a month.”
The doctor looked up and down the mountain, and said in a low voice, “I am very angry.”
“I am sorry.” Catherine murmured. She felt lonely and frightened in this wild place.
“One day he will leave you,” said the doctor, “alone and hungry in a place like this. That’s what he will do.”
“That’s not true, father, and you should not say it.” she cried, “It’s not right.”
He shook his head slowly. “No, it’s not right because you won’t believe it, but it is true.”
Dr. Sloper did not speak of Morris again until the night before they sailed to New York. “What are you going to do when you get home?” he asked suddenly.
“Do you mean about Mr. Townsend?”
“About Mr. Townsend”
“We shall probably marry.”
“So you will go off with him as soon as you arrive?”
Catherine did not like the way he said this. “I can not tell you until we arrive.” she said.
“If I am going to lose my only child, I would like to know before it happens.”
“Oh, father, you will not lose me.” said Catherine.
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Chapter Eight: The last parting
Catherine did not go off with Morris Townsend when she arrived in New York, but she did hear news from her aunt during her first evening home. In fact, while she had been away, Morris had been a frequent visitor in Washington Square, taking tea with Mrs. Penniman, and sitting in Dr. Sloper’s study to smoke cigars. Mrs. Almond had told her sister that she had been behaving foolishly. “You should not be very friendly with him, Lavinia.” she said, “He will make Catherine a bad husband. If he marries her, he doesn’t get Austin’s money. He will hate her for his disappointment, and will be cruel to her. The poor girl will have a miserable life.”
But Mrs. Penniman did not listen to her sister. On Catherine’s return, she told her niece that she had taken good care of her lover while she had been away. “And how is your father?” she asked, “Has he changed his mind about disinheriting you?”
“No, in Europe I saw that I shall never change him.” said poor Catherine, “I expect nothing from him now.”
“You have become very brave.” said Mrs. Penniman with a short laugh, “I didn’t advise you to give up your property.”
“Yes, I am braver than I was. I have changed in that way. I have changed very much, and it isn’t my property. If Morris doesn’t care about it, then I don’t care, either.”
Mrs. Penniman hesitated, “Perhaps he does care about it.”
“He cares about it because he doesn’t want to injure me. But he knows that I am not afraid of that. Besides, I have my own money. We shall have enough to live well.”
The next day Morris Townsend came to visit Catherine. “I am very glad you have come back.” he said, “It makes me very happy to see you again.” He looked at her, smiling from head to foot.
When Catherine saw his handsome face again, she found it hard to believe that this beautiful young man was hers. She was very happy, and without waiting for him to ask. She told Morris about her father. “We must not expect his money now.” she said, “and we must live without it.”
Morris sat looking and smiling. “My poor dear girl” he cried.
“You must not be sad for me.” said Catherine.
Morris continued to smile, and then he got up and walked around the room. “Let me talk to him.” he said, “I want to prove to your father that he is wrong about me.”
“Please don’t, Morris” said Catherine sadly, “We must ask nothing from him. I know he will never change.”
“Why not”
She hesitated for a moment. “He is not very fond of me.” she said slowly, “and I think he despises me. I saw it, I felt it in England just before we left. It is because he is so fond of my mother who died so many years ago. She was beautiful and very, very clever. He is always thinking of her. I am not at all like her. Aunt Penniman has told me that. Of course, it isn’t my fault, but neither is it his fault.”
“You are a strange family.” said Morris.
“Don’t say that. Don’t say anything unkind.” Catherine said, “You must be very kind to me now because, Morris,” here she hesitated, “because I have done a lot for you.”
“Oh, I know that, my dear.”
“It has been terrible for me to feel so distant from my father, to feel that he despises me. I would be so miserable if I didn’t love you. We must be very happy together, and Morris, Morris, you must never despise me.”
This was an easy promise to make, and Morris made it. But for the moment, he made no further promises.
Dr. Sloper spoke to both his sisters soon after his return. He told Mrs. Penniman that he would never accept Morris Townsend as a son-in-law, and he told Mrs. Almond that he was now no longer amused by Catherine, only annoyed. “She will never give Mr. Townsend up.” said Mrs. Almond.
“Then she will be very unhappy, and I can’t prevent it.”
“Poor Catherine” said Mrs. Almond, “We must be as kind to her as we can.”
Mrs. Penniman arranged another secret meeting with Morris. They went for a long walk together, and she told him what the doctor had said. “He would never give us a penny.” said Morris angrily, after a pause he added, “I must give her up.”
Mrs. Penniman was silent for a moment. Thought she thought Morris as a son, she was also a little afraid of him. “I think I understand you,” she said gently, “but my poor Morris, do you know how she loves you?”
“No, I don’t. I don’t want to know.”
“It will be very hard for Catherine.” said Mrs. Penniman.
“You must help her. The doctor will help you. He will be delighted with the news.”
“He will say I always told you so.”
Morris blushed bright red. “I find this all very unpleasant.” he said, “A true friend will try and make it easier for me.”
“Would you like me to tell her?” Mrs. Penniman asked.
“You mustn’t tell her, but you can,” he hesitated, trying to think what Mrs. Penniman could do, “you can explain that I don’t want to come between her and her father.”
“Are you not going to come and see her again?”
“Oh, no, I shall come again, but I don’t want this business to end soon. I have been four times since she came back, and it’s very hard work.”
“But you must have your last parting.” his companion cried. For Mrs. Penniman, the last parting between lovers was almost as romantic as the first meeting.
Morris came to Washington Square again without managing the last parting, and again, and again. Catherine did not suspect anything was wrong, and Mrs. Penniman was too frightened to say anything to her. During each visit, the poor girl waited for Morris to name the day of their wedding, but he never stayed more than a few minutes, and seemed so uncomfortable that she began to worry. “Are you sick?” she asked him.”
“I am not at all well,” he said, “and I have to go away.”
“Go away? Where are you going, Morris?”
He looked at her, and for a second or two she was afraid of him. “Will you promise not to be angry?” he said.
“Angry! Do I get angry?”
“I have to go away on business, to New Orleans.”
“What is your business? Your business is to be with me.”
He told her a long story about a chance that he had to make a lot of money by ___. But Catherine took his arm in her two hands, and spoke more violently than he had ever heard her speak before. “You can go to New Orleans some other time. This isn’t the moment to choose. We have waited too long already.”
“You said you will be not angry!” cried Morris. He got up to leave. “Very well, we won’t talk about it anymore! I will do the business by letter.”
“You won’t go?” said Catherine, looking at him.
Morris wanted to argue with her. It would make it easier for him to break away. “You mustn’t tell me what to do. Try and be calmer the next time I come.”
“When will you come again?”
“I will come next Saturday.” said Morris.
“Come tomorrow!” Catherine begged, “I want you to come tomorrow. I will be very quiet.” Suddenly she felt very frightened and did not want him to leave the room. Morris kissed the top of her head. Catherine felt her heart beat very fast. “Will you promise to come tomorrow?”
“I said Saturday.” Morris answered smiling. He tried to be angry at one moment, and smiled the next. It was all difficult and unpleasant.
“Yes, Saturday, too” she answered, trying to smile, “but tomorrow first.”
He was going to the door. She went with him quickly. “I am a busy man!” cried Morris. His voice was so hard and unnatural that she turned away. He quickly put his hand on the door, but in a moment she was close to him again, murmuring, “Morris, you are going to leave me?”
“Yes! For a little while until you are reasonable again!”
“I shall never be reasonable in that way.” She tried to keep him longer. “Think what I have done.” she cried, “I have given up everything.”
“You shall have everything back.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t mean something? What is it? What has happened? What have I done? What has changed you?”
“I will write to you, that is better.”
“You won’t come back!” she cried, tears running down her face.
“Dear Catherine,” he said, “Don’t believe that. I promise you that you shall see me again.” And he managed to get away, and to close the door behind him.
For many hours Catherine lay crying on the sofa. He had said he would return, but she had seen an expression on his face he had never seen before. He had wanted to get away from her. He had been angry, and cruel, and said strange things with stranger looks. She tried to believe that he would come back. She listened, hoping to hear his ring at the door. But he did not return. Nor did he call or write next day.
On Saturday Catherine sent him a note. “I don’t understand,” she wrote, “Morris, you are killing me.” The pain in Catherine’s heart was terrible, but she was desperate to hide from her father what had happened. So she tried very hard to be brave. She ate her meals, went on with her daily life as usual, and said nothing to anybody. “I am afraid you are in trouble, my dear.” Mrs. Penniman said to her, “Can I do anything to help you?”
“I am not in any trouble and do not need any help.” said Catherine.
After a few days, the doctor, who had been watching in silence, spoke to his sister Lavinia. “The thing has happened. He has left her?”
“It seems to make you happy to see your daughter upset.”
“It does.” said the doctor, “Because it shows I was right.”
The following afternoon Catherine went for a walk, and returned to find Mrs. Penniman waiting for her. “Dear Catherine, you can not pretend with me.” said her aunt, “I know everything, and it is better you should separate.”
“Separate? Who said we were going to separate?”
“Isn’t it broken off?” asked Mrs. Penniman.
“My engagement? Not at all!”
“I am sorry then. I have spoken too soon, but what has happened between you?” said Mrs. Penniman. “Because something has certainly happened?”
“Nothing has happened. I love him more and more.”
Mrs. Penniman was silent. “I suppose that’s why you went to see him this afternoon.”
Catherine blushed. “Yes, I did go to see him,” she cried, “but that’s my own business”
“Then we won’t talk about it.” Mrs. Penniman moved towards the door, but stopped when cried out, “Aunt Lavinia, where has he gone? At his house they said he had left the town. I asked no more questions. I was ashamed. Has he gone to New Orleans?”
Mrs. Penniman had not heard of New Orleans’ plan, but she did not tell Catherine this. “If you have agreed to separate,” she said, “the further he goes away, the better.”
Catherine stared, “Agree? Has he agreed with you?”
“He has sometimes asked for my advice.”
“Is it you then that has changed him?” Catherine cried, “Is it you that has taken him from me? How could you be so cruel? What have I ever done to you?”
“You are a most ungrateful girl.” said Mrs. Penniman, “It was me who helped to bring you together.”
“I wish he had never come to this house. That’s better than this.” said poor Catherine. She was silent for a few minutes, then got up and walked around the room. “will you please tell me where he is?”
“I have no idea.” said Mrs. Penniman.
“Will he stay away forever?”
“Oh! Forever is a long time. Your father perhaps won’t live forever.”
Catherine stared at her aunt. “He has planned it then. He has broken it off and given me up.”
“Only for the present, dear Catherine.”
“He has left me alone.” said Catherine, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t believe it.”
Two days later Catherine received the long letter from Morris. It explained that he was in Philadelphia and that he would be away on business for a long time. He said he would find it impossible to forget her, but he did not want to come between her and her rightful fortune. It was his dearest wish that she should have a happy and peaceful life, and he hoped they would one day meet as friends. The pain that this letter gave Catherine lasted for a long time, but she was too proud to say anything about it to her aunt or her father. Dr. Sloper waited a week before coming one morning into the back parlor, where he found his daughter alone. She was sitting with some sewing work, and he came and stood in front of her. He was going out, and had his hat on. “I will be grateful if you would tell me when you plan to leave my house.” he said.
Catherine looked at him with a long silent stare. “I shall not go away.” she said.
The doctor looked surprised. “Has he left you?”
“I have broken off my engagement.”
“Broke it off?”
“I have asked him to leave New York, and he has gone away for a long time.”
The doctor did not believe this, and he was disappointed at losing the chance to say he had been right. “How does he like your sending him away?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” said Catherine.
“You mean you don’t care? You are rather cruel after playing with him for so long.” The doctor had his revenge after all.
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Chapter Nine: Morris returns
No one ever learned the truth about the end of Catherine’s engagement. Catherine never spoke about it, keeping her secret even from Mrs. Almond, who was very kind to her after Morris Townsend had left New York. “I am delighted that Catherine did not marry him,” Mrs. Almond said to her brother, “but I wish you would be more gentle with her, Austin. Surely you feel sorry for her.”
“Why should I feel sorry for her? She has had a lucky escape, and I suspect that she has not really given him up at all. I think it is quite possible that they have made an arrangement to wait, and when I am dead, he will come back and then she will marry him.
Outwardly Catherine seemed unchanged, but the fact was that she had been deeply hurt. Nothing could ever take away the pain that Morris had caused her, and nothing could ever make her feel towards her father as she had felt when she was younger.
Many years passed. Years in which Catherine received more than a few offers of marriage, she refused them all. And though the name of Morris Townsend was never mentioned in Washington Square, Dr. Sloper still suspected that his daughter was secretly waiting for him. “If she is not, why doesn’t she marry?” he asked himself. This idea grew stronger as he got older.
And one day the doctor said something to his daughter that surprised her very much. “I would like you to promise me something before I die.”
“Why do you talk about dying?” she asked.
“Because I am sixty years old, and I will die one day. Promise me you will never marry Morris Townsend.”
For some moments she said nothing. “Why do you speak of him?” she asked at last.
“Because he has been in New York at your cousin Marian’s house. Your aunt Elizabeth tells me that he is looking for another wife. I don’t know what happened to the first one. He has grown fat and bald, and he has not made his fortune.”
Fat and bald, these words sounded strange to Catherine. Her memory was of the most beautiful young man in the world. “I don’t think you understand.” she said, “I almost never think of Mr. Townsend, but I can’t promise that.”
The doctor was silent for a minute. “I ask you for a particular reason. I am changing my will.”
Very few things made Catherine angry, but these words brought back painful memories from the past. She felt that her father was putting her too far. “I can’t promise.” she simply repeated.
“Please explain!”
“I can’t explain,” said Catherine, “and I can’t promise.”
A year later doctor died after a three-week illness. The will he had changed shortly before his death now left Catherine only a fifth of his property. Mrs. Penniman thought this was cruel and unjust, but Catherine was neither surprised nor unhappy about the new will. “I like it very much.” she told her aunt.
Catherine and Mrs. Penniman continued to live in the house in Washington Square. On a warm evening in July, a year after Dr. Sloper’s death, the two ladies sat together at an open window, looking out at the quiet square. “Catherine,” said Mrs. Penniman, “I have something to say that will surprise you. I have seen Morris Townsend.”
Catherine remained very still for some moments. “I hope he is well.” she said at last.
“I don’t know. He would like very much to see you.”
“I would rather not see him.” said Catherine quickly.
“I was afraid you would say that.” said Mrs. Penniman. “I met him at Marian’s house, and they are so afraid you will meet him there. I think that’s why he goes. He very much wants to see you.”
Catherin did not answer, and Mrs. Penniman went on, “He is still very handsome, though of course he looks older now. I believe he married some lady somewhere in Europe. She died soon afterwards. As he said to me, she only passed through his life. The first thing he did was to ask me about you. He had heard that you had never married. He seemed very much interested about that. He said, ‘you had been the real romance in his life.’”
Catherine had listened silently, staring down at the ground. At last she spoke, “Please do not say more.”
“But he very much wants to see you.”
“Please don’t, aunt Lavinia” said Catherine, getting up from her seat and moving quickly to the other window, where Mrs. Penniman could not see she was crying.
A week later, they were again sitting in the front parlor. Catherine was working on some embroidery when Mrs. Penniman suddenly said, “Morris has sent you a message. He wishes to see you, Catherine. He is going away again and wants to speak to you before he leaves. He says his happiness depends upon it.”
“My happiness does not.” said Catherine.”
“He believes that you have never understood him, but you have never judged him rightly.” said Mrs. Penniman, “This is very painful for him, and he wants just a few minutes to explain. He wishes to meet you as a friend.”
Catherine listened without looking up from her embroidery. Then she said simply, “Please say to Mr. Townsend that I wish he would leave me alone.” She had just finished speaking when the door bell rang. Catherine looked up at the clock. It was a quarter past nine, a very late hour for visitors. She turned quickly to Mrs. Penniman who was blushing. “Aunt Penniman!” she said, in a way that frightened her companion. “What have you done!”
“My dearest Catherine,” said Mrs. Penniman, avoiding her niece’s eyes, “just wait until you see him.”
Catherine had frightened her aunt, but she was also frightened herself. And before she could prevent it, the servant had opened the door and announced his name, “Mr. Morris Townsend”
Catherine stood with her back turned to the door of the parlor. For some moments she remained still, feeling that he had come in. He had not spoken, however. And at last, she turned around. She saw a gentleman standing in the middle of the room, from which her aunt had quietly left. For a moment, she did not recognize him. He was forty-five years old, fatter with thinning hair, and thick beard. “I have come because I want it too so much.” said Morris. It was the old voice, but did not have the old charm.
“I think it was wrong if you to come.” said Catherine.
“Did Mrs. Penniman not give you my message?”
“She told me something, but I did not understand.”
“I wish you would let me tell you.”
“I don’t think it is necessary.” said Catherine.”
“Not for you perhaps, but for me” he seemed to be coming near.
Catherine turned away.
“Can we not be friends again?” he asked.
“We are not enemies.” said Catherine.
He moved closer to her. She saw his beard, the eyes above it, looking strange and hard. It was very different from his old, from his young face. “Catherine,” he murmured, “I have never stopped thinking of you.”
“Please don’t say these things.” she answered.
He looked at her again silently. “It hurts you to see me again. I will go away, but you must allow me to come again.”
“Please don’t come again.” she said, “It is wrong of you. There is no reason for it. You behaved badly towards me.”
“That is not true!” cried Morris, “You had your quiet life with your father. I did not want to steal it from you.”
“Yes, I had that.”
Morris could not say that she also had some of her father’s property, though he knew about Dr. Sloper’s will. “Catherine, have you never forgiven me?”
“I forgave you years ago, but we can not be friends.”
“We can if we forget the past! We still have a future.”
“I can’t forget. I don’t forget.” said Catherine. “You behaved too badly. I felt it very much. I felt it for years. I can’t begin again. Everything is dead and buried. I never expect to see you here again.”
Morris stood looking at her. “Why have you never married?” he asked suddenly.
“I didn’t wish to marry.”
“Yes, you are rich. You are free. Marriage has nothing to offer you.” he looked around the room for a moment, “Well, I had hoped that we could still be friends.”
“There is no possibility of that.” said Catherine.
“Goodbye then!” said Morris.
He bowed, and she turned away. She stood there looking at the ground for some moments after she had heard him close the door of the room. In the hall, he found Mrs. Penniman. “Your plan did not work.” said Morris, putting on his hat.
“Is she so hard?” asked Mrs. Penniman.
“She doesn’t care a button for me.” said Morris. He stood for a moment, with his hat on. “But why then has she never married?”
“Yes, why?” said Mrs. Penniman, “But you will not give up. You will come back?”
“Come back? Certainly not!” And Morris Townsend walked out of the house, leaving Mrs. Penniman staring.
Catherine, meanwhile, in the parlor, picking up her embroidery, had seated herself with it again for life!
(The End)
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红字.Scarlet.Letter 01[font="][size=18.0pt]Salem[/size][/font][font="][size=18.0pt], my home town, is a quiet place, and not many ships call at the port here, though in the last century,before the war with Britain, the port was often busy. Now the ships go down the coast to the great seaports of Boston or New York, and grass grows in the streets around the old port buildings in Salem. For a few years, when I was a young man, I worked in the port offices of Salem. Most of the time, there was very little work to do, and one day in 1849 I was looking through an old wooden box in one of the dusty, unused rooms of the building. It was full of papers about long-forgotten ships, but then something red caught my eye. I took it out and saw that it was a piece of red material, in the shape of a letter about ten centimeters long. It was the capital letter A. It was a wonderful piece of needlework, with patterns of gold thread around the letter, but the material was now worn thin with age. [/size][/font]
[font="][size=18.0pt][size=18pt]It was a strange thing to find. What could it mean? Was it once part of some fashionable lady's dress long years ago?Perhaps a mark to show that the wearer was a famous person, or someone of good family or great importance? I held it in my hands, wondering, and it seemed to me that the scarlet letter had some deep meaning[/size][font=宋体][size=18pt]，[/size][/font][size=18pt] which I could not understand. Then I held the letter to my chest and —— you must not doubt my words —— experienced a strange feeling of burning heat. Suddenly the letter seemed to be not red material, but red-hot metal. I trembled, and let the letter fall upon the floor. Then I saw that there was an old packet of papers next to its place in the box. I opened the packet carefully and began to read. There were several papers, explaining the history of the scarlet letter, and containing many details of the life and experiences of a woman called Hester Prynne.She had died long ago, sometime in the 1690s, but many people in the state of Massachusetts at that time had known her name and story. And it is Hester Prynne's story that I tell you now. It is a story of the early years of Boston, soon after the City Fathers had built with their own hands the first wooden buildings ——the houses, the churches ... and the prison. [/size][/size][/font]
黑骏马
1 My first home
The first place I can remember well was a pleasant field with a pond of clear water in it．Trees made shadows over the pond，and water plants grew at the deep end．On one side was another field，and on the other side we looked over a gate at our master's house， which stood by the roadside．At the top of our field were more tall trees，and at the bottom was a fast-running stream．
While I was young，I lived on my mother's milk，but as soon as I was old enough to eat grass，my mother went out to work during the day and came back in the evening．
There were six other young horses in me field，although they were older than I was．We all galloped together round the field， and had great fun．But sometimes the others would kick and bite．
'They are young farm horses and haven't learned how to behave，'my mother told me．'You are different．Your father is well known， and your grandfather twice won the most important race at Newmarket．Your grandmother was quiet and gentle，and you have never seen me kick or bite，have you？ I hope you will grow up to be gentle and a willing worker， and never bite or kick．'
I have never forgotten my mother's advice．She was a clever and sensible old horse．Her name was Duchess，but our master often called her Pet．He was a good，kind man，and my mother loved him very much．Whenever she saw him at the gate，she trotted across．He used to pat her and say，'Well，old Pet，and how is your little Darkie？'I was a dull black colour，so he called me Darkie．He sometimes brought a piece of bread for me，or a carrot for my mother，and I think we were his favourites．
When I was two years old，something happened which I have never forgotten．It was early spring，and there was a light mist over the trees and fields．I and the other young horses were feeding at the lower end of the field when we heard the distant cry of dogs．
The oldest among us lifted his head to listen．'There are the hounds！'he said，and immediately raced off．The rest of us followed him to the top of the field，where we could see several fields beyond．
My mother and another old horse were standing near．'They've found a hare，'said my mother，'and if they come this way，we shall see the hunt．'
Soon the dogs were all racing down the field next to ours，making a loud'yo-yo-yo-yo！'sound at the top of their voices．After them came men on horses，some in green coats，and all galloping as fast as they could．Suddenly，the dogs be-came silent and ran around with their noses to the ground．
'They've lost the smell of the hare，'said the old horse．'Perhaps it will escape．'
But the dogs began their'yo-yo-yo-yo！'again and came at full speed towards our field．Just then a hare，wild with fear，ran towards the trees．The dogs jumped over the stream and ran across the field，followed by the huntsmen． Six or eight jumped their horses over the stream，close behind the dogs．Be-fore the hare could get away，the dogs were upon her with wild cries．
We heard a terrible scream，and that was the end of the hare．One of the men picked her up and held her by the leg．She was covered in blood， but all the huntsmen seemed pleased．
I was so greatly surprised that at first I did not see what was happening by the stream， but when I did look， I saw a sad sight．Two fine horses were down，one in the stream and the other on the grass． One rider， who seemed unhurt，was climb-ing out of the water，but the other lay quite still．
'His neck is broken，'said my mother．'I can't understand why men are so fond of this sport．They quite often hurt them-selves and ruin good horses，all for one hare that they could get more easily some other way． But we are only horses， and don't know why men do these things．'
They carried the dead rider to our master's house， and I heard afterwards that it was George Gordon， the only son of a local landowner， and a fine young man．
A man from the village came to look at the black horse on the grass．The animal was in great pain and one of his legs was broken．The man began to feel the horse all over，then he shook his head．Someone ran to our master's house and came back with a gun．Soon after， there was a loud bang and a terrible cry，then all was still．The black horse did not move again．
My mother was very unhappy．'I've known that horse for years，'she said．'His name was Rob Roy．He was a good brave horse．'She never went near that end of the field again．
Not many days after，we heard the church bell and saw a long，strange black carriage，pulled by black horses．they were taking the body of young George Gordon to the churchyard to bury him．He would never ride again．I never knew what they did with Rob Roy，but it was all for one little hare．
2 Birtwick Park
I was beginning to grow handsome．My coat was fine and soft， and was a shiny black． I had one white foot，and a pretty white star on my forehead． When I was four years old，Mr Gordon came to look at me．He looked closely at my eyes，my mouth， and my legs， and then I had to walk and trot and gallop for him．
'When he has been trained，'Mr Gordon said to my master，'he will do very well．'
My master liked to train his horses himself before selling them，and the next day my training began．
To train a horse is to teach him to wear a saddle，and to carry a man，woman or child on his back．The horse must also learn to wear a collar， and to stand still when it is put on；then to have a carriage fixed behind him， and to go fast or slow，whichever his driver wishes． He must never bite or kick or talk to other horses， and must always do what his master tells him，however tired or hungry he feels．
Like all horses that have grown up，I had to wear a bit and bridle．A bit is a great piece of cold hard metal， as thick as a man's finger，which is pushed into a horse's mouth between his teeth and over his tongue， with the ends coming out at the corners． It is held there by straps which go over the horse's head，under his neck，round his nose and under his chin．Reins，which the rider holds，are fastened to each end of the bit．Slowly， with my master's kind words and gentle ways， I learned to wear my bit and bridle．
Next there was the saddle．My master put it on my back very gently， then fixed the straps under my body， speaking quietly to me all the time．Then one morning， he got on my back and rode me round the field on the soft grass．He did this every day until I was used to it． Then he took me to the village where a man fixed metal shoes on to each hoof．My feet felt heavy and strange，but I got used to this，too．
There were more new things to wear．First，a heavy collar on my neck，and a bridle with great side pieces against my eyes，called blinkers．With these on，I could only see in front of me．But in time I got used to everything，and could do my work as well as my mother．
For a fortnight， my master sent me to a neighbour's farm for another kind of training， which was very useful to me．One field was next to the railway and had sheep and cows in it， and I was put in among them．I shall never forget the first train that thundered by， and how I galloped to the far side of the field，trembling with fear at this terrible noise．But after a few days I cared as little as the sheep and cows when a train passed by．
It was early in May when a man came to take me away to Mr. Gordon's house．My master said，'Goodbye，Darkie．Be a good horse，and always do your best．'I put my nose into his hand and he patted me kindly，and then I left my first home．
* * *
Mr. Gordon's house，which was called the Hall，stood in Birtwick Park，near the village．We went into the Park through a large gate，then trotted along a smooth road between some trees to the house and gardens．Beyond this were the stables．
There was room for many horses and carriages．My stable had four good stalls and a large window．It was very pleasant．The first stall was called a loose box，where a horse is not tied up all the time but is free to move around as he likes．It is a great thing to have a loose box．The groom put me into it and gave me some oats．Then he patted me，spoke kindly，and went away．In the stall next to mine stood a little fat grey pony．
'Hello，'I said．'What is your name？'
'Merrylegs，'he said，turning round．'I'm very handsome．I carry the young ladies on my back， and sometimes I take Mrs Gordon out in one of the carriages．Are you going to live next to me in the box？'
'Yes，'I said．
'Then I hope you are well-behaved，'he said．'I don't like anyone who bites．'
A horse's head looked over from the stall beyond．It was a tall brown mare， and she did not look pleased．'So it's you who has turned me out of my box，'she said．
'I'm sorry，'I said，'but the man put me in here，so it is not my fault．I don't want to argue with anyone；I just wish to live in peace．
Later，Merrylegs told me about the tall brown mare．
'Ginger has a bad habit of biting people，'he explained．'One day，she bit James in the arm，and Miss Flora and Miss Jessie， the children， were afraid to come into the stable after that．If you don't bite， I hope they'll start to come again．'
I told him I never bit anything except grass and could not understand why Ginger bit people．
'No one was ever kind to her before she came here，'said Merrylegs．'John and James do all they can to please her，and our master is never unkind．I'm twelve years old， and I know that there isn't a better place for a horse all round the country than this．John has been here fourteen years and is the best groom there ever was．And you never saw a kinder stableboy than James．There was no reason for Ginger to bite anyone．It's her own fault that she did not stay in the box．'
The name of the groom was John Manly．The next morning， he got out his brushes and gave me a good grooming，then put a saddle on me．He rode me slowly at first，then at a trot， then at a gallop．As we came back through the Park， we met Mr. and Mrs Gordon．They stopped and John jumped off．
'Well，John， how does he go？'said Mr Gordon．
'He's a fine horse，sir，'said John．'He's fast，but the lightest touch of the rein will guide him．They were shooting birds near Highwood，and a gun went off close by． He pulled up a little，but I just held the rein and he wasn't frightened at all． It's my opinion he was never frightened or beaten when he was young．'
'Good，'said Mr Gordon．'I'll ride him tomorrow．'
I remembered my mother's advice， and the next day I tried to do exactly what my master wanted me to do．He was a very good rider，and when he came home his wife was waiting for him at the door．
'How do you like him， my dear？'she asked．
'I have never ridden a more pleasant horse，'answered Mr Gordon．'What shall we call him？'
'What about Blackbird，like your uncle's old horse？'said his wife．
'He's far handsomer than Blackbird，'said Mr Gordon．
'Yes，'she said，'he's quite a beauty， and he has a kind， intelligent face．Shall we call him Black Beauty？'
'Black Beauty—why，yes，I think that's a very good name，'said Mr Gordon．
John went into the stable and told James．
'I'd call him Rob Roy，'said James，'if it did not remind everyone of the past．I never saw two horses more alike．'
'That's not surprising，'said John．'Didn't you know that Farmer Grey's old Duchess was the mother of them both？'
So poor Rob Roy who was killed at the hunt was my brother！ Now I understood why my mother was so unhappy when he died．
John was very proud of me，and seemed to know just how a horse feels．And James was kind，too．
A day or two later，I went out in the carriage with Ginger．I wondered how we would get on together， but I found it easy to trot along beside her．
Merrylegs was a happy little pony and was everyone's favourite．We were soon great friends and I became quite happy in my new home．
[化身博士 / 罗伯特•路易斯•史蒂文森 著]
Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson
■ 1 The mysterious door
Mr Utterson the lawyer was a quiet， serious man． Hewas shy with strangers and afraid of showing his feelings． Among friends， however， his eyes shone with kindness and goodness．And， although this goodness never found its way into his conversation， it showed itself in his way of life．He did not allow himself many enjoyable things in life． He ate and drank simply and， although he enjoyed the theatre，he had not been to a play for twenty years． However， he was gentler towards other men' s weaknesses，and was always ready to help rather than blame them． As a lawyer， he was often the last good person that evildoers met on their way toprison，or worse． These people often carried with them memories of his politeness and fairness．
Mr Utterson's best friend was a distant cousin calledRichard Enfield，who was well known as a fun-loving 'manabout town'．Nobody could understand why they werefriends， as they were different from each other in every way．They often took long walks together，however， marchingthrough the streets of London in companionable silence．
One of these walks used to take them down a narrow sidestreet in a busy part of London． It was a clean， busy， friendlystreet with bright little shops and shiny doorknockers． Nearthe end of this street， however， stood a dark， mysterious，windowless building．The door had neither bell nor knockerand looked dusty and uncared for． Dirty children played fearlessly on the doorstep， and nobody ever opened the door todrive them away．
One day，as Mr Enfield and his friend passed the building，Mr Enfield pointed to it．
'Have you ever noticed that place？'he asked．'It remindsme of a very strange story．'
'Really？'said Mr Utterson．'Tell me．'
'Well，'began Enfield，'I was coming home about threeo'clock on a black winter morning，when suddenly I saw twopeople．The first was a short man who was walking along thestreet，and the second was a little girl who was running as fastas she could． Well，the two bumped into each other and thechild fell down．Then a terrible thing happened．The mancalmly walked all over the child's body with his heavy boots，and left her screaming on the ground．It was an inhuman thingto do．I ran after the man， caught him and fetched him back．There was already a small crowd around the screaming child．The man was perfectly cool， but he gave me a very evil look，which made me feel sick in my stomach．The child's familythen arrived， and also a doctor． The child had been sent tofetch the doctor for a sick neighbour，and was on her wayhome again．
'“The child is more frightened than hurt，”said thedoctor—and that， you would think， was the end of the story．But， you see，I had taken a violent dislike to the short man．So had the child's family—that was only natural．But the doctor， who seemed a quiet， kindly man， was also looking at ourprisoner with murder in his eyes．
'The doctor and I understood each other perfectly．Together we shouted at the man， and told him we would tell this story all over London so that his name would be hated．
'He looked back at us with a proud，blach look．“Nameyour price，”he said．
'We made him agree to a hundred pounds for the child' sfamily． With another black look， the man led us to that doorover there．He took out a key and let himself into thebuilding．Presently he came out and handed us ten pounds ingold and a cheque for ninety pounds from Coutts's Bank． Thename on the cheque was a well-known one．
'“See here，”said the doctor doubtfully，“it isn't usual for aman to walk into an empty house at four in the morning andcome out with another man's cheque for nearly a hundredpounds．”
'“Don't worry，”said the man with an ugly look，“I'll staywith you until the banks open，and
change the chequemyself．”
'So we all went off， the doctor and the prisoner and myself，and spent the rest of the night at my house．In the morningwe went together to the bank． Sure enough， the cheque wasgood， and the money was passed to the child's family．'
'Well，well，'said Mr Utterson．
'Yes，'said Enfield，'it's a strange story．My prisoner wasclearly a hard， cruel man． But the man whose name was onthe cheque was well known all over London for his kind andgenerous acts．Why would a man like that give his cheque to acriminal？'
'And you don't know if the writer of the cheque lives inthat building？'asked Mr Utterson．
'I don't like to ask，'said his friend．'In my experience，it's not a good idea to ask too many questions，in case the answers are ugly，violent ones．But I've studied the place alittle．It doesn't seem like a house． There's no other door，and the only person who uses that door is the man I've just described to you．There are three windows on the side of thehouse，which look down onto a small courtyard．The windowsare shut，but they're always clean．There's a chimney too，which is usually smoking．So somebody must live there．'
The two men continued on their walk． Then Utterson brokethe silence．
'Enfield，'he said，'you're right about not asking toomany questions．However，I want to ask the name of the manwho walked over the child．'
'Very well，' said Enfield．'He told us his name wasHyde．'
'What does he look like？'
'He's not easy to describe， although I remember him perfectly．He's a strange-looking man．He's short，but has astrong， heavy body．There's something wrong with his appearance，something ugly and unpleasing—no，somethinghateful．I disliked him at once．'
Mr Utterson thought deeply．'Are you sure he used a key？'he asked．
'What do you mean？'asked Enfield in surprise．
'I know it must seem strange，'said his friend．'But yousee， if I don't ask you the name on the cheque， it's because Iknow it already…'
'Well， why didn't you tell me？'said his friend rathercrossly．'Anyway， he did have a key， and he still has it． Isaw him use it only a week ago．'
Mr Utterson looked at him thoughtfully，but said nothingmore．
■ 2 In search of Mr Hyde
After dinner that evening Mr Utterson went into his office and unlocked a cupboard． He took out an envelope．It contained the will of Doctor Henry Jekyll，and was writtenin the doctor's own handwriting．
'If I die，or if I disappear for more than three months，'thewill began，'I wish to leave everything I own to my dearfriend Edward Hyde．'
This will had both worried and annoyed Mr Utterson． To alawyer it was an unusual and dangerous kind of will． It wasbad enough when Edward Hyde was only an unknown name，but now that the lawyer knew something about Hyde， the willworried him more than ever． It had seemed like madness before；now it began to seem shameful． With a heavy heart MrUtterson replaced the envelope in the cupboard，put on hiscoat and went to see his old friend Doctor Lanyon．
Doctor Lanyon was enjoying his after-dinner coffee．'Comein，old friend！' he cried． The two men had known each othersince their school days．They sat for several minutes，drinkingcoffee and talking companionably of this and that． At last MrUtterson mentioned the thoughts that were worrying him．
'I suppose，Lanyon，'he said，'that you and I are HenryJekyll's oldest friends？'
'I suppose so，'said Doctor Lanyon，'but I don't often seehim now．'
'Really？' said Mr Utterson in surprise．'I thought you andhe were interested in the same things．'
'We were at one time，'said Doctor Lanyon．'But morethan ten years ago Henry Jekyll became too—well，imaginativefor me． He developed some strange，wild， unscientific ideas． Itold him so，and I've seen very little of him since then．'
Mr Utterson looked at his friend's red， angry face．'Only adisagreement about some scientific question，'he thought．'It's nothing worse than that．' Calmly he continued，'Didyou ever meet a friend of Jekyll's a man called Hyde？'
'Hyde？'repeated Lanyon．'No， never．'
Soon the lawyer said goodnight and went home to bed，where he lay awake for a long time thinking about Enfield's description of Hyde，and Doctor Jekyll's will．When at last hefell asleep，he was troubled by dreams． In his mind's eye hesaw a faceless man marching over the child's body．Then hesaw his old friend Jekyll in bed，while the same faceless figurestood over him．The facelessness of that figure worried himdeeply．
'Very well，Mr Hyde，'said the lawyer to himself，'I willfind you，and I will see your face for myself．'
During the next few weeks Mr Utterson spent many hoursin the narrow street where Enfield had seen Hyde．He waitedpatiently near the mysterious door， hoping for a sight of MrHyde—and one dry， clear winter night he was successful．The street was empty and silent and small sounds carried along way．The lawyer heard footsteps． He stepped back intothe shadows and waited．A short figure turned the corner andwalked towards the mysterious door． Although Mr Uttersoncould not see his face， he felt a strong， almost violent， dislikefor the stranger．
Mr Utterson stepped forward and touched him on the shoulder．'Mr Hyde？'
'Yes，that's my name，'said the stranger coolly．' What doyou want？'
'I see that you're going in．I'm an old friend of DoctorJekyll's．My name is Utterson．You must have heard myname—may I come in with you？'
'Doctor Jekyll is not at home，'replied Mr Hyde．'How didyou know me？'he added sharply．
'First let me see your face，'replied the lawyer．
Mr Hyde hesitated for a moment， then he stood under thestreet light and the lawyer saw his face．'Thank you，' saidMr Utterson．'Now I shall know you again． It may beuseful．'
'Yes，'said Mr Hyde，'it may indeed be useful．Here，too，is my address．You may need it one day．'He gave the lawyerhis address，which was in a poor part of London．
'Good God！'thought the lawyer，'does Hyde know aboutJekyll's will？Is that what he's thinking of？'But he saidnothing．
'And now，'said Mr Hyde，'How did you know me？'
'You were described to me．'
'Who did that？'
'I know people who know you．'
'Who？' asked Mr Hyde sharply．
'Doctor Jekyll，for example，'said the lawyer．
'He never told you！'cried Mr Hyde in sudden anger．'Don't lie to me！'And before the lawyer could answer， heturned the key in the lock and disappeared into the house．
Mr Utterson stared at the closed door．'Why do I dislikehim so much？'he said to himself．'Enfield was right—thereis something evil about the man．Poor Henry Jekyll，I'm worried about you． Your new friend will mean trouble for you．'
Round the corner from the narrow street there was a squareof handsome old houses．One of these was Doctor．Jekyll's house，and Mr Utterson knocked at the front door． The servant answered and told him that Doctor Jekyll was not athome．
'I saw Mr Hyde go in by the laboratory door in the street atthe back of the house， said the lawyer．
'That's right，Mr Utterson，'replied the servant． 'MrHyde has his own key， and comes and goes when he likes． Wehave orders from Doctor Jekyll to obey him．'
Mr Utterson walked home more worried than ever．
A fortnight later Doctor Jekyll gave a dinner party for a fewold friends．Mr Utterson was among them and he remained after the others had left．
'I've been wanting to speak to you for some time，Jekyll，'said the lawyer，'about your will．'
Doctor Jekyll was a tall， well－made man of fifty with asmooth， kindly face．'My poor friend，'he said，'you doworry unnecessarily， you know． Like poor Lanyon when Itold him about my new ideas．“Imaginative rubbish”he calledthem… I'm very disappointed in Lanyon．'
But the lawyer did not want to talk about Doctor Lanyon．'You know I've never agreed with your will，'he continued．'You've told me often enough，'said his friend sharply．
'Well，I've learnt something about your friend Hyde，'continued the lawyer．
The colour of the doctor's handsome face changed from pinkto greyish-white．'I don't want to hear any more，'he said．'You don't understand． I'm in a very difficult，painful situation．
'Tell me everything，'said Mr Utterson，'and I'll do mybest to help you．'
'You're very kind，but this is a private matter．I'll tell youone thing—I can get rid of Mr Hyde any time I want． Youmust understand，however， that I take a great interest in poorHyde．I know you've seen him—he told me， and I'm afraidhe wasn't very polite to you． But I really do care about him．And if anything happens to me，I want you to promise tomake sure that he inherits my money．'
'I cannot pretend that I shall ever like him，' said thelawyer．
'I'm not asking you to like him，'said his friend．'I onlyask you to help him，when I'm gone．'
'I promise，'said Mr Utterson sadly．
首页>听力教程>书虫牛津英语有声读物6级>白衣女人.The.Woman.in.White>
Part one: the Story Told by Walter Hartright
One: A Meeting by Moonlight
It was the last day of July. The long hot summer was coming to an end, and I was feeling ill and depressed. I was also short of money, so I had a little chances of escaping from the dusty London streets. I would have to spend the autumn economically between my rooms in the city and my mother’s house.
My mother and my sister, Sara, lived in a cottage in Hamstander in the northern suburbs, and I usually went to see them twice a week.
This evening I arrived at the gate of the cottage, just as it was starting to get dark. I had hardly rung the bell before the door was opened violently. And my Italian friend Professor Pesca rushed out to greet me. Pesca was a language teacher, who left Italy for political reasons, and made his home in England. He was a strange, excitable little man, who was always trying to be more English than the English. I had met him from time to time when he was teaching in the same house as I was.
And the one day I met him by chance in Brighten, we agreed to go for a swim together in the sea. He was very enthusiastic, and it never for a moment occurred to me that he did not know how to swim. Fortunately, when he suddenly sank to the bottom, I was able to dive down and saved him. From that day on, he was my grateful friend. And that evening he showed his gratitude to me in a way that changed my whole life. “Now, my good friends,” he said, when we were all in another sitting room, “I have some wonderful news for you. I have been asked by my employer to recommend a drawing teacher for a post with a rich family in the north of England. And who do you think I recommended? The best drawing teacher in the world, Mr. Walter Hartright!
“My dear Pesca, how good you are towards!” explained my mother, “How kind, how generous you are!
As for myself, although I was certainly grateful for his kindness, I still felt strangely depressed. I thanked him warmly, however, and asked to see the conditions. The note gave me said that a qualified drawing teacher was wanted Mr. Frederick Fairlie of Limmeridge House, Cumberland, to teach his two young nieces for a period of at least four months. The teacher was to live in the Limmeridge House as a gentleman, and received four pounds a week. Let us to show he was a good character would be required.
The position was certainly an attractive one, and I could not understand why I felt so little enthusiastic for it. However, my mother and sister thought it was a great opportunity, and I had no wish to hurt Pesca’s feelings. I agreed to apply for the job.
The next morning I sent my letters of recommendation to Professor Pesca’s employer. And four days later I heard that Mr. Fairlie accepted my services and requested me to start for Cumberland immediately.
I arranged to leave the next day and in the evening I walked to Hamstander to say goodbye to my mother and Sara. When I left at midnight, a full moon was shining in a dark blue starlit sky, and the air was soft and warm. I decided to take a long rude home, and walked across the Hamstander heath before joining the road into the center of the city. After a while, I came to cross roads and turned onto the London road.
I was lost in my own thoughts wondering about the two young ladies in Cumberland when suddenly my heart seemed to stop beating, a hand had touched my should from behind. I turned at once, my hand tightening on my walking stick. There, as if it dropped from the sky, stood a figure of a woman, dressed from head to foot in white clothes. I was too surprised to speak. “Is that the road into London?” she said. I looked at her carefully. It was then nearly one o’clock. All I can see in the moonlight was a young colorless face, large side eyes and light blond hair. Her manner was quiet and self-controlled. What sort of woman she was? And why she was out so late alone? I could not guess. But, there was nothing evil about her. Indeed, a kind of sad innocence seemed to come from her. “Did you hear me?” she said quietly and rapidly.
“Yes,” I replied, “that’s the road. Please, excused me, I was rather surprised by your sudden appearance.”
“You don’t suspect me doing anything wrong, do you?”
“No, no, seeing you so suddenly gave me a shock. That’s all.”
“I heard you coming,” she said, “and hid behind those trees to see what sort of man you were before I rest speaking. May I trust you?” Her eyes searched my face anxiously. Her loneliness and helplessness was so obvious that I felt great sympathy for her.
“Tell me how I can help you.” I said, “And if I can, I will.”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you! You are very kind.” her voice trembled as she spoke, “I don’t know London at all. Can I get a cab or a carriage this time of night? Could you show me where to get one? And will you promise not to interfere with me? I have a friend in London, who will be glad to receive me. I want nothing else. Would you promise?” she looked nervously up and down the road and back at me. How could I refuse? Her fear and confusion were painful to see. “Will you promise?” she repeated.
“Yes!”
We set off together towards the center of London. It was like a dream, walking along that familiar road with so strange and so mysterious companion at my side.
“Do you know any man of the rank of the baronet?” she asked suddenly.
There was a note of suspicion in a strange question. When I said I knew no baronets, she seemed relieved. I questioned her further, and she murmured that she had been cruelly used by a baronet she would not name. She told me she came from Hampshire and asked if I lived in London. I explained that I did, but I was leaving for Cumberland the next day. “Cumberland,” she repeated softly, “Ah, I wish I was going there, too. I was once happy in Cumberland, in Limmeridge village. I’d like to see Limmeridge house again.”
“Limmeridge house?” I stopped, amazed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked anxiously, “Did you hear anybody calling after us?”
“No, no, it’s just that I heard the name of Limmeridge house very recently. Do you know somebody there?”
“I did once,” she said, “but Mrs. Fairlie is dead, and her husband is dead, and the little girl maybe married and gone away.”
Perhaps she would have told me more, but just that moment we saw a cab. I stopped it and she quickly got in. “Please,” I said, “let me see you safely to your friend’s house.”
“No, no,” she cried, “I’m quite safe, and you must let me go. Remember your promise, but thank you, oh, thank you.” she caught my hand in hers, kissed it and pushed it away.”
The cab disappeared into the shadows on the road, and the woman in white had gone. The minutes later I was still on the same road, thinking uneasily but the whole adventure when I heard wheels behind me. An open carriage with two men in it passed me, then stopped when they saw a policeman walking further down the street. “Officer,” one of the men cried, “have you seen a woman pass this way? A woman in white clothes”
“No, Sir, why? What’s she done?”
“Done! She has escaped from an asylum.”
Asylum? But the woman had not seemed mad to me, nervous and a little strange perhaps, but not mad. What had I done? Had I helped a woman wrongly in prison to escape? Or had I failed to protect a sick person who might come to harm? These disturbing thoughts kept me awake all night after I had got back to my rooms. Until at last it was time to leave London and set out for Cumberland.
My traveling instructions directed me to Karnal, and then to change trains for Limmeridge. However because of a long delay, I missed my connection and did not get to Limmeridge till past ten. A servant in rather a bad temple was waiting for me at the station with a carriage. When I arrived at the Limmeridge House, everyone had gone to bed. I was shown to my room, and when I at last put out the candle, I thought myself. “What shall I see in my dreams tonight? The woman in white, or the unknown inhabitants of this Cumberland House?
原文是本人自己听写出来的，如有错误，请务必指出，谢谢支持！
首页>听力教程>书虫牛津英语有声读物6级>白衣女人.The.Woman.in.White>
Part one: the Story Told by Walter Hartright
Two: Life at Limmeridge House
When I got up the next morning, I was greeted by the bright sunlight and the view of blue sea through the window. The future suddenly seemed full of promise. I found my way down to the breakfast room. And there, looking out of the window with her back turned to me, was a young woman with a perfect figure. But when she turned and walk towards me, I saw to my surprise that her face was ugly. Hair grew on her upper lip, and her mouth was large and firm. It was almost a man’s face, but the friendly smile she gave me softened it, and made her look more womanly. She welcomed in a pleasant educated voice, and introduced herself as Marian Halcombe, Miss. Fairlie’s half sister. “My mother was twice married.” she explained in her easy friendly manner. “The first time to Mr. Halcombe, my father; and the second time to Mr. Fairlie, my half sister’s father. My father was a poor man, and Miss. Fairlie’s father was a rich man. I’ve got nothing, and she has fortune. I am dark and ugly, and she is fair and pretty.” She said all this quite happily. “My sister and I are very fond of each other, so you must please both of us, Mr. Hartright, or please neither of us.” She then told me that Miss. Fairlie had a headache that morning, and was being looked after by Mrs. Vansz , an elderly lady, her once being Miss. Fairlie’s governess. “So we should be alone at breakfast, Mr. Hartright” she said, “As for Mr. Fairlie, your employer, you will doubt this meeting later. He is Miss Fairlie’s uncle, a single man, who became Miss Fairlie’s guardian when her parents died. He suffers from some mysterious illness of the nerves, and never leaves his rooms.”
When we ate breakfast, she described the quiet regular life that she and her sister laid. “Do you think you will get used to it?” she said, “or will you be restless and wish for some adventure?”
Hearing the word “adventure” reminded me of my meeting with the woman in white and her reference to Mrs. Fairlie. I told Miss. Halcombe all about my adventure, and she showed an eager interest, especially in a mention of her mother. “But you didn’t find out the woman’s name.” she said
“I’m afraid not, only that she came from Hampshire.”
“Well, I shall spend the morning,” said Miss. Halcombe, “looking through my mother’s letters. I am sure I will find some clues there to explain this mystery. Lunch is two o’clock, Mr. Hartright, and I shall introduce you to my sister then.”
After the breakfast, the Mr. Fairlie’s personal servant, Louis, came to tell me that Mr. Fairlie would like to see me. I followed the servant upstairs and was shown into a large room full of art treasures. There, in an armchair, sat a small, pale, delicate-looking man of about fifty. The ___ fine clothes and valuable rings on his soft white fingers, they were something very unattractive about him. “So glad to have you here, Mr. Hartright.” he said in a complaining high voice, “Please sit down, but don’t move the chair. In my state of the nerves, any movement was painful to me. May I ask if you have found everything satisfactory here at Limmeridge?” When I began to reply, he at once raised his hand to stop me. “Please, excused me, but could you speak more softly? I simply cannot bear loud voices, or indeed any kind of loud sound.” The interview did not last long as Mr. Fairlie quickly lost interest in it. He informed the ladies would make all the arrangements for their drawing lessons. “I suffered so much from my nerves, Mr. Hartright.” he said, “Do you mind ringing the bell for Louis? Thank you. Good morning.”
With a great relief, I left the room and spent the rest of morning looking forward to lunchtime, when I would be introduced to Miss. Fairlie.
At two o’clock I entered the dinning room and found Miss. Halcombe sit at the table with a rather fat lady, who smiled all the time. This I discovered was Mrs. Vansz. We started eating and for long we had finished the lunch with still no signs of Miss. Fairlie. Miss. Halcombe noticed my frequent glances at the door. “I understand you, Mr. Hartright.” she said, “You are wondering about your other student. Well, she’s got over her headache, but did not want any lunch. If you follow me, I think we can find her somewhere in the garden.”
We walked out together along a path through the garden until we came to a pretty summer house. Inside I can see a young lady standing near a table, looking out at the view and turning the pages of a little drawing book. This was Miss. Laura Fairlie. How can I describe her? How can I separate this moment from all that has happened since then? In a drawing I later made of her, she appears as a light useful figure, wearing a simple white and blue straight dress and a summer hat. Her hair is like brown, almost gold, and she’s eyes that are clear and blue, with a look of truth in them. They gave her whole face such a charm that is difficult to notice each individual future. The delicate though not perfect straight nose, the sweet sensitive mouth, the life and beauty of her face, lights in her eyes, such was my impression, but the same time I felt there was something about her that I could not explain, something I ought to remember, but could not. In fact, I was thinking about this so much that I could hardly answer when she greeted me. Miss. Halcombe, believing I was shy, quickly said, “Look at your perfect student.” And she pointed at the schedules, “She has already started to work before your lessons have begun. You must show them to Mr. Hartright, Laura, when we go for a drive.”
Miss. Fairlie laughed with bright great humor. “I hope he will give his true opinion of them, and not just say something to please me.” she said
“May I inquire why you said that?” I asked
“Because I shall believe all that you tell me.” she answered simply
In those few words she gave me the key to her own trusting truthful character. Later we went for our promised drive, but I must confess that I was far more interested in Miss. Fairlie’s conversation and her schedules. Soon I realized that I was behaving more like a guest than a drawing teacher. And when I was on my own cab, I felt uneasy and dissatisfied with myself. At dinner that evening, these feelings soon disappeared. And when the meal was over, we went into a large sitting room with glass doors leading into the garden. Mrs. Vansz fell asleep in an armchair and Miss. Halcombe sat near a window to look through her mother’s letters. At my request, Miss. Fairlie played the piano. How would I ever forget that peaceful picture! The flowers outside, the music of Mozart, Miss. Halcombe reading the letters in a half light, the delicate outline of Miss. Fairlie’s face against the dark wall. It was an evening of sights and songs to remember forever.
Later when Miss. Fairlie had finished playing and had wandered out into the moonlit garden, Miss. Halcombe called me. “Mr. Hartright, would you come here for a minute?” I went off and she showed me a letter. “It’s from my mother to her second husband twelve years ago. She mentions a lady from Hampshire, called Mrs. Catherick, will come to look after her six sisters living in the village. It seemed she brought her only child with her, a little girl called Anne, who is about a year older than Laura. I was in school in Paris at the time. My mother who took great interests in a village school, since the little girl was slow in learning, showed she gave her lessons here at the house. She also gave her some of Laura’s white dresses and white hats, saying she looked better in white than any other color. She says the little Anne Catherick was so grateful and loved so much. One day she kissed her hand and said, ‘I’ll always wear white as long as I live. It will help me to remember you.’” Miss. Halcombe stopped and looked at me, “Did the woman you met that night seem young enough to be twenty-two or twenty-three?”
“Yes, Miss. Halcombe, as young as that.”
“And was she dressed from head to foot all in white?”
“All in white”
From where I sat, I can see Miss. Fairlie walking in the garden and the whiteness of her dress suddenly made my heart beat fast.
“Now listen to what my mother says at the end of the letter.” Miss. Halcombe continued, “It would surprise you. She says perhaps the real reason for her liking little Anne Catherick so much was that she looked exactly like…”
Before she could finish, I jumped up. Outside stood Miss. Fairlie, a white figure alone in the moonlight, and suddenly I realized what it was that I had been unable to remember. It was the extremely likeness between Miss. Laura Fairlie and the run-away from an asylum, the woman in white.
“You see it.” said Miss. Halcombe, “just as my mother saw the likeness between them the years ago.”
“Yes” I replied. But very unwillingly to connect that lonely friendless woman, even by accidental likeness, to Miss. Fairlie, disturbs me very much. I don’t like to think of it. Please call in from that horrible moonlight.
“We won’t say anything about this light, Mr. Hartright（录音里是Laura，但本人认为可能是念错了，很明显此处是Halcombe和Hartright在对话，所以应该是Mr. Hartright）.” she said, “It would be a secret between you and me.”
Then she called Miss. Fairlie in, asking her to play the piano again. And so my first eventful day at Limmeridge House came to an end.
The days passed. The weeks passed, and the summer changed into a golden autumn. A peaceful happy time, but at last I had to confess to myself my real feelings for Miss. Fairlie---I loved her. Everyday I was near her in that dangerous closeness which existed between teacher and student. Often as we bent over her schedule book, our hands and faces almost touched. I breathed the perfume of her hair. I should have put a professional distance between myself and her as I had always done with my students in the past. But I did not, and it was soon too late.
By the third month of my staying in Cumberland, I was lost in dreams of love and blind of the dangers ahead of me. Then the first warning finally came from her. In the space of one night（一夜之间）, she changed towards me. There was a sudden nervous distance, and a kind of sadness in her attitude. The pain I felt that moment is beyond the description. But I knew then that she had changed because she had suddenly discovered not only my feelings, but her own as well. This change was also reflected in Miss. Halcombe, would say nothing unusual to me, but had to develop a new habit of always watching me. This new and awful situation continued for some time until on a Thursday, near the end of third month, I was at last rescued by the sensible and courageous Miss. Halcombe. “Have you got a moment for me?” she asked after the breakfast, “Shall we go into the garden?”
We walked to the summer house and went inside. Miss. Halcombe turned to me, “Mr. Hartright, what I have to say to you, I can say here. Now I know that you are a good man who always acts correctly. Your story about that unhappy woman in London proves that. As your friend, I must tell you that I discover your feeling for my sister, Laura, although you have done nothing wrong except your weakness. I must tell you to leave Limmeridge House before any harm is done. And there is something else I must tell you, which will also give you pain. Will you shake hands with your friend Marian Halcombe first?”
She spoke with such kindness that I shook her hand. “You must leave because Laura Fairlie is to be married.”
The last word was like a bullet to my heart. I turned white. I felt cold. With one word all my hopes disappeared.
“You must put an end in your feelings here, where you first met her. I will hide nothing from you. She’s not marrying for love, because of a promise she made to her father just before he died. The man she is to marry arrives here next Monday.”
“Let me go today.” I said bitterly, “The sooner, the better.”
“No, not today, that will look strange, wait till tomorrow after the post has arrived. Say to Mr. Fairlie that you have received a bad news and must return to London.”
“I will follow your advice, Miss. Halcombe.” I said sadly, “but may I ask the gentleman engaged to Miss. Fairlie is?”
“A rich man from Hampshire”
“Hampshire again! Connection with Anne Catherick, and his name?” I asked as calmly as I could.
“Sir Percival Glyde”
“Sir” I remembered Anne Catherick’s suspicious questions about Baronets（准男爵，英国世袭爵位中最低等级的受勋者，地位在男爵之下爵士之上）, and my voice shook a little as I asked, “Is he a Baronet?”
She paused for a moment. Then ansewered, “Yes, a Baronet.”
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首页>听力教程>书虫牛津英语有声读物6级>白衣女人.The.Woman.in.White>
Part one: the Story Told by Walter Hartright
Three: The Unsigned letter
As I sat alone in my room late that morning, my thoughts crowded in on me. There was no reason at all for me to connect Sir Percival Glyde with the man who had made Anne Catherick so afraid, but I did. My suffering was great, but even greater was my feeling that some terrible invisible danger lay ahead of us. Then I heard a knock on my door. It was Miss. Halcombe. “Mr. Hartright, I am sorry to disturb you. But you are the only person who can advise me. A letter has just arrived for Miss. Fairlie, a horrible unsigned letter warning her not to marry Sir Percival Glyde. It upset my sister very much. Should I try to find out who wrote it? Or wait to speak to Mr. Gilmore, Mr. Fairlie’s legal advisor who arrives tomorrow?”
She gave me the letter. There was no greeting, no signature. ‘Do you believe in dream, Miss. Fairlie? Last night I dreamt and saw you in your white wedding dress in a church, so pretty, so innocent. By your side stood a man with the scar of an old wound on his right hand, a handsome man, but with a black evil heart. A man who has brought misery to many, and who will bring misery to you. And in my dream I cried for you. Find out the past life of this man, Miss Fairlie, before you marry him. I send you this warning, because your mother was my first, my best, my only friend.’
These last words suggested an idea to me, which I was afraid to mention. Was I danger of losing my bonds of mind? Why should everything lead back to the woman in white?
“I think a woman wrote this letter.” said Miss. Halcombe, “It certainly refers to Sir Percival. I remember that scar. What should I do, Mr. Hartright? This mystery must be solved. Mr. Gilmore is coming to discuss the financial details of Miss. Fairlie’s marriage, and Sir Percival arrives on Monday to fix the date of marriage, though Miss. Fairlie does not know this yet.
The date of marriage, those words filled me with jealous despair. Perhaps there was some truth in this letter. If I could find the writer, perhaps I would find a way to prove that Sir Percival Glyde was not the honest man he seemed.
“I think we shall begin inquiries at once.” I said, “The longer we delay, the harder it would be to find out anything.”
We questioned the servants and learned the letter had been delivered by an elderly woman, who had then disappeared in the direction of the village. People in Limmeridge remembered seeing the woman, but on one could tell us who she was or where she had come from. Finally I suggested asking the school teacher. As we approached the school door, we could hear the teacher shouting at one of the boys, saying angrily that there were no such things as ghosts. It was an awkward moment, but we went in anyway and asked our question. The teacher could tell us nothing. However, as we turned to leave, Miss. Halcombe spoke to the boy standing in the corner. “Are you the foolish boy who’s talking about the ghosts?”
“Yes, Miss, but I saw one. I saw it yesterday, in the churchyard. I did! It was… it was the ghost of Mrs. Fairlie.”
His answer visibly shocked Miss. Halcombe, and the teacher quickly stepped in to explain the silly boy had said he had seen or probably imagined a woman in white standing next to Mrs. Fairlie’s grave as he passed the churchyard yesterday evening. There was nothing more to happen that.
“What’s your opinion of this?” Miss. Halcombe asked me, as we went out of the school.
“The boy may have seen someone,” I said, “but not a ghost. I think we should examine the grave. I have had a suspicion, Miss. Halcombe, that the writer of the letter and the imagined person in the churchyard might be the same person.”
She stopped, turned pale, and looked at me. “What person?”
“Anne Catherick” I replied, “the woman in white.”
“I don’t know why, but your suspicion frightens me.” she said slowly, “I will show you the grave, and then I must go back to Laura. We’ll meet again at the house later.”
In the churchyard I examined Mrs. Fairlie’s grave carefully, and noticed the gravestone had been partly cleaned. Perhaps the person who had done the cleaning would return to finish the job. I decided to come back that evening and watched. Back at the house I explained my plan to Miss. Halcombe who seemed uneasy and made no objection. So as the sun began to go down, I walked to the churchyard, chose my position and waited. After about half an hour, I heard footsteps. Then two women passed in front of me and walked to the grave. One wore a long cloak with a hood（头巾）over her head, hiding her face. Below the cloak a little of her dress was visible---a white dress. The other woman said something to her companion, and then walked away around the corner of the church, leaving the woman in the cloak next to the grave. After looking all around her, she took out a cloth, kissed the white cloth and started to clean it. I approached her slowly and carefully, but when she saw me, she jumped up and looked at me in terror. There in front of me was the face of the woman in white.
“Don’t be frightened.” I said, “Surely you remember me?” Her eyes searched my face. “I helped you to find a way to London.” I went on, “Surely you’ve not forgotten that?”
Her face relaxed as she recognized me, and she sighed in relief. Before this, I had seen her likeness in Miss. Fairlie. Now I saw Miss. Fairlie’s likeness in her. Except the Miss. Fairlie’s delicate beauty was missing from this tired face, and I could not help thinking that ever sorrow and suffering fell on this fairy. Then, and only then they would be the living reflections of one another. It was a horrible thought. Gently I began to question her. I told her that I knew she had escaped from an asylum（精神病院）. And I was glad I had helped her.
“Had you found her friend in London that night?”
“Oh, yes, that was Mrs. Clements, who is here with me now. She was our neighbor in Hampshire, and took care of me when I was a little girl. She’s always been my friend.”
“Have you no father or mother to take care of you?”
“I never saw my father. I never heard mother speak of him, and I don’t get on well with her. I’d rather be with Mrs. Clements, who is kind like you.”
I learned that she was staying with a relation of Mrs. Clements’ at the farm, three miles from the village. There were other hard questions I wanted to ask. Who had shocked her away in an asylum? Her unkind mother perhaps? What was her motive in writing a letter to Miss. Fairlie, accusing Sir Percival Glyde? Was it a revenge? What wrong had Sir Percival done to her? She was easily frightened, easily confused and could only hold one idea in her mind at the time. I tried not to alarm her. “Has she ever” I asked, “been wronged by a man and then abandoned?” Her innocent ___ face had told me that was not the answer. All the time we were talking, she was cleaning the gravestone with her cloth.
“Mrs. Fairlie was my best friend.” she murmured, “and her daughter,” she looked up at me, turned away again as though hiding her face in guilt. “Is Miss. Fairlie well and happy?” she whispered anxiously
I decided to try and surprise confusion from her. “She was not well or happy this morning after receiving your letter. You wrote it, didn’t you? It was wrong to send such a letter.”
Her face went deadly pale, and she bent down and kissed the gravestone. “Oh, Mrs. Fairlie, Mrs. Fairlie, tell me how to save your daughter? Tell me what to do?
“You mentioned no names in the letter, but Miss. Fairlie knows the person you described is Sir Percival Glyde.” The moment I said his name, she gave such a scream of terror that my blood ran cold. Her face, now full of fear and hatred, told me everything. Without doubt, the person who had shocked her away in the asylum was Sir Percival Glyde.
Of the sound of her scream, Mrs. Clements came running and looking angrily at me, said, “What is it, my dear? What has this man done to you?”
“Nothing” the poor girl said, “he was good to me once. He helped me.” She whispered the rest in her friend’s ear. Then Mrs. Clements put her arm around Anne Catherick, and led her away. I watched them go, feeling great pity for that poor pale frightened face.
Half an hour later, I was back at the house, and the story I told Miss. Halcombe made her very worried. “I am certain Sir Percival Glyde put Anne Catherick in the asylum.” I said
“But why? What’s the connection between them? We must find it out.” said Miss. Halcombe, “We will go to the farm tomorrow, and I will speak to Anne Catherick myself.”
The first thing I had to do next morning was to ask Mr. Fairlie if I could leave my job a month earlier. As his nerves were particularly bad, I could not speak to him directly and had to write a note, explaining some unexpected news force me to return to London. In reply, I received an unpleasant letter informing me that I could go. Once such a letter would have upset me greatly. Now I no longer cared. Later Miss. Halcombe and I walked to the farm, and Miss. Halcombe went in when I waited nearby. To my surprise, she returned after only a few minutes. “Does Anne Catherick refuse to see you?” I asked
“Anne Catherick has gone.” replied Miss. Halcombe, “she left this morning with Mrs. Clements. The farmer’s wife, Mrs. Talt, has no idea why they left or where they went. She just said that Anne Catherick had been disturbed after reading something in the local newspaper a couple of days ago. I looked the paper and saw that it mentioned Laura’s future wedding. Then Mrs. Talt said Anne Catherick fainted last night, apparent in shock something mentioned that one of servant girls from our house who was visiting the farm on her evening off.”
We hurried back to the house to question the servant girl. Miss. Halcombe asked if she had mentioned Sir Percival Glyde’s name while at the farm. “Oh, yes” the girl replied, “I said he was coming on Monday.
At that moment, a cab arrived and Mr. Gilmore, the family friend and legal advisor, got out. He was an elderly man, pleasant-looking and neatly-dressed. Miss. Halcombe introduced me, and then went away to discuss family matters with him. I wandered out to the garden. My time at the Limmeridge House was nearly at an end, and I wanted to say a last goodbye to the places where I had so often worked with Miss. Fairlie in the dreamtime of my happiness and my love. But the autumn day was grey and damp, and those golden memories were already fading.
As I returned to the house, I met Mr. Gilmore. “Ah, Mr. Hartright” he said, “Miss. Halcombe has told me how helpful you have been to this strange letter received by Miss. Fairlie. I want you to know that the investigation is now in my safe hands. I’ve written to Sir Percival Glyde’s lawyer in London, and I am sure we will receive a satisfactory explanation.”
“I’m afraid I am not so sure as you.” was my reply
“Well, well” said Mr. Gilmore, “we’ll wait for events.”
At dinner that evening---my last dinner at Limmeridge House, it was a hard battle to keep myself controlled. I saw it was not easy for Miss. Fairlie, either. She gave me her hand as she had done in happier days, but her fingers trembled, and her face was pale. Mr. Gilmore kept the conversation going, and afterwards we went into the sitting room as usual. Miss. Fairlie sat at the piano, “Shall I play some of those pieces by Mozart that you like? Will you sit in your old chair near me?” she asked nervously. As it is my last night, I will.” I answered
“I’m very sorry you are going.” she said almost in a whisper
“I shall remember those kinds of words, Miss. Fairlie, long after tomorrow has gone.” I replied
“Don’t speak about tomorrow.” then she played, at last it was time to say goodnight.
The next morning I found Miss. Halcombe and Miss. Fairlie waiting for me downstairs. When I began to speak, Miss. Fairlie turned and hurried to the room. I tried to control my voice but could only say. “Will you write to me, Miss. Halcombe?”
She took my both hands in hers, and her face grew beautiful with the force of her generosity and pity. “Of course I will, Walter. Goodbye and God bless you.”
She left, and a few seconds later Miss. Fairlie returned, holding something. It was her own schedule of the summer house where we had first met. With tears in her eyes, she offered it to me. “To remind you” she whispered
My own tears fell as I kissed her hand. Then I turned to go. She sank into a chair. Her head dropped on her arms. At that moment I knew that Laura Fairlie loved me, too. But it was over, we were separated.
原文是本人自己听写出来的，如有错误，请务必指出，谢谢支持！
首页>听力教程>书虫牛津英语有声读物6级>白衣女人.The.Woman.in.White>
Part two: the Story Told by Marian Halcombe
Four: Arrangements for a Marriage
It was a sad day when Walter Hartright left us. Laura stayed in her room all day, and I felt sad and depressed. Poor Gilmore must have a dull time. And the next morning when Laura reappeared, looking pale and ill. I thought she seemed rather anxious about her. I was anxious, too. Laura is such a sensitive and loving person that it was not surprised to me to find that she had grown fond of Walter. Indeed, I have grown fond of him myself. But I honestly believed that time would kill Laura of these feelings.
Two days after Walter left Sir Percival Glyde arrived. He is forty-five years old, but seems younger. He is handsome, and only a little bald, has perfect manners, and is pleasant, agreeable and respectful. I really must try to like him. In the afternoon, while Laura was out of the room, Sir Percival referred to Anne Catherick’s letter. “I read Mr. Gilmore’s letter to my lawyer,” he said, “and I want to give you a full explanation. Mrs. Catherick, you see, worked for me in my family for many years. Her marriage was unfortunate in that her husband deserted her and her only child--- a girl became mentally ill and needed to be put in an asylum. So in recognition of Mrs. Catherick’s services, I agreed to pay the expenses of a private asylum for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl discovered this, and consequently developed hatred for me. She recently escaped from the asylum, and I am sure she wrote this letter because of her hatred for me. It’s all very sad.”
Mr. Gilmore found this explanation perfectly satisfactory, and said so, “He then looked at me for agreement.”
But I was struggling with a sense of unease that I could not explain, and hesitated before answering. Sir Percival noticed this at once. “May I beg you, Miss. Halcombe,” he said politely, “to write to Mrs. Catherick to ask if these facts are true?”
I did not want to agree to this, but how could I refuse? Without making the situation even more embarrassing than it already was, so I went to the desk, wrote a note and gave it to him. Without looking at it, he put it in an envelope and wrote the address. “Now that is done.” he said, “May I ask if Anne Catherick spoke to Miss. Fairlie, or to you?”
“No, she spoke to nobody except Mr. Hartright.” I replied.
“Ah, yes, the drawing teacher” he said softly, “and did you discover where Anne Catherick was staying?” I described the found to him. “It is my duty to try to find her.” he continued, “Tomorrow I will go to this farm and make inquiries.” Soon afterwards he left to go up to his room.
That evening and the next day, Sir Percival took every opportunity to bring Laura into the conversation, but she hardly took any notice. He went to the farm to make his inquiries about Anne Catherick, but learnt nothing. Then on Thursday, a letter came from Mrs. Catherick, a short business-like letter. Thanking me for my note, and saying that everything Sir Percival had told me was completely correct. Why did I still have doubts? This surely was enough proof for anyone, but how I wished that Walter Hartright had been there to give his opinion! At Sir Percival’s request, I now had to give Laura his explanation about the letter of Anne Catherick. She listened quietly and showed no emotion, but I noticed that on the table near her hand the little book of Hartright’s drawings. I also had to tell her that the reason for Sir Percival’s visit was to fix the day of their marriage. “I am afraid he will ask you to decide quite soon, Laura.”
“Oh, no, Marian, I can’t do that!” she said, “Please ask him, beg him to allow me more time. I promise him to give him a final answer before the end of this year, but not yet please, not yet.”
Sir Percival agreed to this request, and when Mr. Gilmore heard about it, he arranged to have a private talk with Laura. “I have to return to London tomorrow,” he said to me, “and I need to discuss the financial side of this marriage with Miss. Fairlie before I go. As you know, she will inherit a great deal of money and property when she becomes twenty-one next March. And I must include all this in the marriage agreement in a way that reflects Miss. Fairlie’s own wishes, and is acceptable to Sir Percival.”
He had a meeting with Laura the next day, and in the afternoon he left for London, looking rather sad and thoughtful. Wondering what had been sad, I hurried up to Laura’s room. “Oh, Marian, come in!” she said, “I need to talk to you.”
“What is it, Laura? Is it about marriage agreement?”
“No, I couldn’t even better discuss that with Mr. Gilmore. I am ashamed to say that all I could do was cry. He was very kind and good, Marian. And he said he would look after everything for me. No, what I wanted to tell you was this. ‘I can not bear the situation any longer.’”
I must add it---her eyes were bright and she spoke with great energy. I began to feel alarmed. “What do you wish to do, Laura darling? Do you want to be released from your promise to marry Sir Percival?”
“No,” she said simply, “I can not break my promise to my father, but I want to tell the truth. And I will confess to Sir Percival that I love someone else.”
“Laura! He has no right to know that.” I said in amazement.
“I can not deceive him.” she said, “I had thought it over carefully after I have told him. Let him do as he wishes.”
I looked into her innocent loving eyes, and could say nothing. I just put my arms around her, trying not to cry for myself.
“May I speak to him tomorrow in your presence, Marian?”
I held her tight and agreed, though I was not sure I was doing the right thing. Indeed, I was not sure of anything. I could not understand how I had failed to see how deeply she loved Walter Hartright. For the first time in my life I had made a mistake about her. Now I realize that she would love him all her life.
The first thing that happened the next morning did nothing to make me feel more cheerful. A letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. He had decided to leave England, and asked me if I could help him finding an employment abroad. I was then alarmed to read that since his return to London he had neither seen nor heard anything of Anne Catherick, but suspected he had been watched and followed by a strange man. I was worried about his state of mind, so I immediately wrote to some friends in London to ask if they could help him to find a suitable job in another country. Laura, of course, knew nothing about these letters.
Sir Percival did not join us for breakfast, but sent a message saying he would meet us at eleven o’clock as arranged. Laura seemed calm, and unusually self-controlled. I had never seen her like this. It was almost that if love had created a new force in her character. At exactly eleven, Sir Percival knocked and entered with anxiety and worry in every line of his face. This meeting would decide his future life and he obviously knew it. “You may wonder, Sir Percival,” Laura said calmly, “if I am going to ask to be released from the promise to marry you, I am not going to ask this. I respect my father’s wishes too much.” His face relaxed a little, but I saw one of his feet nervously beating on the carpet. “No, if we are going to withdraw from our planned marriage, it will be because of your wish, Sir Percival, not mine.”
“Mine?” he said in great surprise, “What reason could I have for withdrawing?”
“A reason that is very hard to tell you.” she answered, “There is a change in me.”
His face went so pale that even his lips lost their color. He turned his head to one side. “What change?” he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.
“When the promise was made two years ago,” she said, “my love did not belong to anyone. Will you forgive me, Sir Percival? If I tell you that it now belongs to another person.” Her tears started to fall, and Sir Percival hid his face behind his hand, so that it was impossible to know what he was thinking.
He made no answer, and my temper got the better of me. “Sir Percival!” I said sharply, “have you nothing to say? You’ve already heard more than you have the right to hear.”
“But I didn’t ask for that right.” he said, avoiding my question.
“I wish you to understand,” Laura continued, “that I will never see this person again. And that if you leave me, you only allow me to remain a single woman for the rest of my life. All I ask is that you forgive me and keep my secret.
“I will do both those things.” he said. Then he looked at Laura as if he was waiting to hear them all.
“I think I have said enough to give you reason to withdraw from our marriage.” she added quietly.
“No, you have said enough to make the dearest wish of my life to marry you.” he said, getting up and advancing towards her.
Laura gave a cry of surprise, but I had more than half expect to this. Every word she had spoken had shown her honesty and her innocence, but these fine qualities had destroyed her ¬___ hopes of release. Sir Percival understood very well the priceless value of a pure and true woman. Why would he give her right now? “I will do everything I can to earn your love,” he said, “and perhaps in time I will win it.”
“Never” she answered, looking more beautiful than ever, “I will be your true and loyal wife, but never your loving wife.”
“That is enough for me. I accept your loyalty and truth.” he said. Then raised his hand to lips, and silently left the room.
Laura sat without moving. I put my arm around her. At last, she said, “I must resign myself, Marian. If you write to Walter, don’t tell him how unhappy I am. And if I die first, please say to him, say what I could never say myself, say I loved him.” Then she threw herself on the sofa, and cried as if her heart was breaking, until the last she fell asleep.
In the days that followed it seemed nothing could prevent this miserable marriage from taking place. I tried to make Laura change her mind, but she was determined to keep her promise and to do her duty. Mr. Fairlie was, of course, very happy that the family worry was now at end, and suggested that the sooner his niece got married, the better. This made me very angry, but when I told Laura, I was surprised by her calm reply. “My uncle is right. I have caused trouble and ___ to everyone. Let’s Sir Percival decide on the day of our marriage.”
Sir Percival was delighted by this news, and he then left to prepare for the bride’s reception at his house in Hampshire. I thought that the change would do Laura good, so I arranged for us both to go and stay with some friends in Yorkshire. She passively agreed with my idea. I also wrote to Mr. Gilmore, telling him this marriage would now take place.
The next day I received a letter from Walter Hartright, saying that my friends had got him a job on an expedition to settle America. He was going to be an artist for the expedition. He was leaving on the 21st November, and would be away for six months. I could only hope so this was for the best. Laura and I then departed for Yorkshire, but after only nine days there, we received a letter from Mr. Fairlie, pulling us back to Limmeridge immediately. “What could this mean?” I wondered
I found out as soon as we arrived. Mr. Fairlie and Sir Percival had agreed on the 22nd of December for the wedding, provided that Laura also agreed. “Would I please persuade her?” said Mr. Fairlie. His nerves was much too bad to talk to her himself. I also found our old friend, Mr. Gilmore, who had come to talk to Mr. Fairlie about the marriage agreement. He was leaving that day, and was anxious to speak to me alone before he left. “I am not at all happy about the financial arrangements in the agreement, Miss. Halcombe.” he said, “But there is nothing I can do about it. I know how fond you are of your sister, and I think you ought to know why I am concerned. As you will know,” he went on, “there are three parts to Miss. Fairlie’s inheritance. Firstly, on Mr. Fairlie’s death, she will inherit the Limmeridge property and land, and income from it. If she dies childless, this property will go to a cousin, but the income from it will go to her husband during his lifetime. If she has a son, everything---property and income---will go to her son. No problems there! Secondly, when Miss. Fairlie reaches the age of twenty-one next March, she will receive the income from ten thousand pounds. This ten-thousand pounds will go to her aunt, Elena, if Miss. Fairlie dies before her aunt, which is not very likely. The reason Miss. Fairlie’s father did not leave the ten-thousand pounds to his sister, Elena, on his death was he disapproved strongly of her marriage to a foreigner, even though this man was an Italian nobleman---Count（伯爵）Fosco.”
“Yes, Laura has told me about that.” I said
“Well,” Mr. Gilmore went on, “there are no problems there, either. But the third part of Miss. Fairlie’s inheritance is more difficult. Next March, she will also inherit twenty thousand pounds, which will be her own money completely. If she dies before her husband, the income from the twenty-thousand pounds will go to Sir Percival for his lifetime and capital will go to their children. If there are no children to inherit the capital, Miss. Fairlie can choose relations and friends to inherit when she dies. That’s what I propose, but Sir Percival’s lawyer did not accept it. He insists that if Sir Percival survives his wife and there are no children, Sir Percival should receive the capital. In that case, nothing will go to any other member of the family, including you, Miss. Halcombe.” Mr. Gilmore sighed deeply. “I protested strongly. I tried every argument I could, but nothing will change the lawyer’s mind. I’ve discovered, you see, that Sir Percival is always in debt and always in need of cash. My last effort has been to come here to try and persuade Mr. Fairlie to oppose this demand from Sir Percival’s lawyer. I am sorry to say I have not succeeded. Mr. Fairlie wishes to avoid all responsibility for his niece’s marriage arrangements. He says that his niece would not die before Sir Percival, anyway. So what is that worried about?” Mr. Gilmore stood up to go, picked up his hat. “I shall complete the agreement and send it in. I have no choice. If I don’t do it, Mr. Fairlie will find another lawyer who will. But I tell you, Miss. Fairlie, no daughter of mine shall be married to any man alive under such an agreement as I am forced to make for Miss. Fairlie.” With that, he shook my hand. And without another word, he went away to catch his train back to London.
After he had gone, I tried to be sensible. Mr. Fairlie was Laura’s Guardian, and if he chose to accept this agreement, there was nothing I could do about it. It was just one more worry about this dreadful marriage. A more immediate worry was the date of wedding. When I told Laura, she turned pale and trembled. “Not so soon” she cried, “Oh, Marian, not so soon.”
“Well, let me speak to Mr. Fairlie then.” I said, ready to fight for her. “I would try to change it.”
“No,” she said faintly, “Too late, Marian, too late. It will only make more trouble. Please tell my uncle I agree.”
I think I would have cried if I had not been so angry. I rushed into Mr. Fairlie’s room and shouted loudly. “Laura agrees to the 22nd!” And rushed out again, banging the door nosily. I hoped I had destroyed his nerves for the whole day.
After this, the wedding preparation began. The dress makes ___ went all the time. There was packing and planning, and all kinds of arrangements to make. We heard every day from Sir Percival, after the wedding he proposed to take Laura to Italy for six months. They would meet a number of Sir Percival’s friends there, including his best and oldest friend---Count Fosco---whose wife , of course, was Laura’s aunt, Elena. At least, this marriage would bring Laura and her aunt together again, I thought. The Count himself sounded the most interesting person, and I’d rather hope that I would meet him one day.
All too quickly the days passed, Sir Percival arrived, looking a little tired and anxious, but talking and laughing like the happiest man. The evening after he had arrived, he went off to the village to ask if anyone had any news about Anne Catherick. No one had heard anything, but I had to admit it was good of him to continue to try to help her. I have decided to try and think better of him. After all, what reason do I have to distrust him? I am sure I could like him if I really tried. It is getting quite easy to like him. Today I spoke to him about the dearest wish of both Laura and myself that I shall be able to live with Laura after her marriage, just as I had always lived with her before. He agreed instantly, and seemed delighted with the plan. I would be the ideal, the perfect companion for his wife, he said. Yes! I am beginning to like Sir Percival very much.
I hate Sir Percival. He has no sensitivity, no kindness, no good feeling. Last night he whispered something in Laura’s ear. She has refused to tell me what it was, and her face turned white with misery. He took no notice at all, and all my suspicions of him have returned. Is he now showing his true character? He seems more restless and nervous than before, and has often shouted in bad-tempered. I have a strange idea that something might happen to prevent this marriage, and that he is afraid of that. A foolish thought, I must forget it. As the day of our separation grows nearer, Laura can not bear to have me out of her sight. I must be brave and cheerful for her sake, but my fear will not go away. Will this marriage be the one terrible mistake of her life? And one hopeless sorrow of mine?
It is the 22nd. No more time for tears, Laura is dressed and we leave for the church. By eleven o’clock, they are married. By three o’clock, they are gone. I am glad with crying, and cry no more.
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首页>听力教程>书虫牛津英语有声读物6级>白衣女人.The.Woman.in.White>
Part two: the Story Told by Marian Halcombe
Five: A Document for Signature
Six long lonely months passed, and I had little to do but think of upset friends. I received a cheerful letter from Walter Hartright after he arrived in Honduras, and just before he set off with the expedition into the forest. Since then I have heard nothing. There was no news of Anne Cathrick and Mrs. Clements. Poor Mr. Gilmore felt very ill and had to give up work, but his business is continued by his partner, Mr. Cole. Mrs. Vansz has moved to London to live with her sister, and Mr. Fairlie, I believe, is secretly delighted to have his house free of women. Most of all, of course, I thought about Laura. Many letters came from her, but she said very little in them. She told me she was well, but hardly mentioned her husband, and wrote not a word about Count Fosco, whom they had met in Austria, not Italy. I understood from her silence that she did not like him. All she said was her aunt Elena, Madam Fosco, was quieter and more sensible than she had used to be.
On the 11th of June I arrived in Black Water Park, Sir Percival’s family home in Hampshire. The waiting was nearly over, and how happy I was. The next day, Laura and her husband would return home together with Count Fosco and his wife, who were going to spend the summer at the Black Water. In the morning, the housekeeper, Mrs. Michelson, showed me around the house. It is very old and much of it is dusty and unused, only one part of the anonymous building is comfortably enough to live in. Later I explored the garden and its park. The gardens are small, and not well kept, and there are so many trees that the house fields sheltered in by them. I found a path through the trees which after half a mile brought me to a lake. It was a damp lonely place. The still dark water of the lake, and the long shadows from the tall trees gave it a gloomy（阴郁的） air. Near the lake there was an old boat house with some seats in it. So I went in and sat down for a rest. I am not a nervous person generally, but when I heard the sound of quick breathing under my feet, I jumped to my feet in alarm. In fact, it was a dog, a small black and white dog with a bullet wound in its side. I carried the poor creature back to the house and sent for Mrs. Michelson to help me. When she came in and saw the dog lie on the floor, she cried out at once. “Oh! That must be Mrs. Catherick’s dog.”
“Whose?” I asked, amazed.
“Mrs. Catherick’s! Do you know her? She came here to ask for news of her daughter.”
“When?”
“Yesterday! She had heard that her daughter Anne had been seen in a neighborhood, but no one knew anything. I suppose the dog ran away into the woods and got shocked by the park keeper.”
I tried to make my voice sound politely interested. “I suppose you’ve known Mrs. Catherick for many years?”
“Oh, no, Miss. Halcombe, I never saw her before. She lives in ___, twenty-five miles away. I had heard of her because Sir Percival paid for her daughter to go to an asylum, but yesterday Mrs. Catherick asked me not to mention her visit to Sir Percival. That was not a thing to say, wasn’t it, Miss?”
Odd indeed! Then we had to turn our attention to the poor dog which despite of our efforts died a little while later. It was a sad thing to happen on my first day at Black Water.
Later that evening, the travelers returned. After my first happiness of meeting Laura, I felt there was strangeness between us. And I realized she had changed. I was sure we would soon get back to normal, but she had lost her innocence and openness. She was unwilling to talk about her married life, and I saw there were no warm feelings between her husband and her. It wasn’t long before she asked me about Walter. “Have you heard from him? Is he well and happy?” And it was clear to me that she loved him as deeply as ever.
As for Sir Percival, his manners are sharp and less pleasant. On meeting me, he simply said, “Hello, Miss. Halcombe, glad to see you again.” and then walked past me. Little things seemed to annoy him a great deal. For example, the house keeper told him a man had called to speak to him a week ago, but left no name. Sir Percival demanded a description of the man which poor Mrs. Michelson was unable to give, and Sir Percival stormed out of the room in great anger.
Laura was certainly right about Madam Fosco. Never have I seen such a change in a woman. As Elena Fairlie, aged thirty-seven, she wore bright clothes were silly and foolish, and always talked nonsense. As Madam Fosco, aged forty-three, she wears only grey and black, and sits for hours in silence, doing needle work, rolling up cigarettes for the Count, or just looking at him with the eyes of a loyal dog. And the man who has achieved this extraordinary change, the man who has obtained this wild English woman, yes, what can I say about the Count? He looks like a man who can obtain anything. If he had married me, I would have made his cigarettes as his wife does, I would have held my tongue when he looked at me as she holds hers. How can I explain the power, the attraction, the force that comes from this man? There are many unlikable and unattractive things about him. For example, he is enormously fat. He seems to have false hair（假发）. He is at least sixty years old. He is lazy, jumps at the slightest sudden sound, and has a peculiar fondness for pet animals. He has brought with him a variety of birds and a whole family of white mice, which he often kisses and calls loving names just as a child might do. And yet, and yet he is fat but moves likely and easily, like a dancer. There is a calmness and a strength about his smooth unlined face, and his voice is persuasive, gentle, hard to exist. His knowledge of the English language is perfect, and he is well-known expert in chemical science. He speaks baby language to his white mice, but he talks intelligence and charms about the books of every language and brings to his conversation experience of life in half the capitals of Europe. But it is his eyes that I shall always remember, his cold, clear, beautiful grey eyes, eyes which held such a frightening power that I shiver even now to think of it. I could discover very little about his past from Sir Percival. I only learnt that he had not been to Italy for years. I wondered if this was for political reasons. It seemed he had said Sir Percival, from a great danger in Rome once, and they had been the closest friends ever since. It was quite clear that Sir Percival was always anxious to please him and would never go against his wishes. I wonder whether I am afraid of him, too. I certainly never saw a man I would be more sorry to have as an enemy.
At the lunchtime a few days after they all returned, a man called Mr. Marriman arrived asking to see Sir Percival urgently. Sir Percival had clearly not expected the visit, and looked both alarmed and angry as he left the table. Neither Laura nor I had any idea whom Mr. Marriman was, but the Count told us he was Sir Percival’s lawyer. I wondered what had happened, as lawyer did not usually travel from London to Hampshire unless sent for. Mr. Marriman must be the bringer of an important news, either good or bad. Count Fosco must have read my thoughts and said softly to me, “Yes, Miss. Halcombe, something has happened.”
Later in the day I was coming from my room, when I saw Sir Percival and his lawyer crossing the hall downstairs. They spoke quietly, but clearly enough for their words to reach my ears. “Yes, Sir Percival,” I heard the lawyer say, “it all depends on Lady Glyde.” I immediately stopped when I heard Laura’s name, and although I knew it was wrong, continued to listen. “You understands, Sir Percival, Lady Glyde must sign her name in the presence of two witnesses. If this is done in a week’s time, everything will be alright. If not, I may be able to get them to accept a document promising payment in three months. But how that money is to be obtained by then?” they went into the library, and I heard no more. But it seemed that Sir Percival had a serious debt, and the solution to it depended on Laura. I immediately went to tell Laura what I had heard.
She did not seem surprised. “I was afraid of something like this,” she said, “when I heard about that strange gentleman who called without leaving his name. He has probably come to us for his money. But don’t worry, Marian. I won’t sign anything that I might later regret.
In the evening, Sir Percival was unusually polite and pleasant to all of us. What did this mean? I thought I could guess. I was afraid Laura could guess, and I was sure Count Fosco knew. I saw Sir Percival looking at him for approval more than once during the evening. The Count was certainly aware of Sir Percival’s financial problems.
The next morning Sir Percival asked Count Fosco, Laura and myself if we would go to the library for a minute after lunch for a small business matter. Before lunch, however, we all went for a walk to the lake, stopping at the boat house for a rest. “Some people called the lake pretty.” Sir Percival said, pointing to the view, “I call it ugly. It looks just like a place for a murder, doesn’t it? What do you think, Fosco?”
“My dear Percival,” the Count protested, “the water is too shallow to hide a body. Only a fool would murder someone here. A wise man will choose somewhere else.”
“Wise men do not murder.” said Laura, looking at him with dislike. “I am sure you can not give me an example of a wise man who has been a criminal.”
“My dear lady,” said the Count, “it is impossible to give an example because wise men’s crime is never found out.” As he spoke he was playing with his white mice in their little cage, and suddenly noticed that one of them was missing. A few seconds later he found a little animal under a seat, but also found something which seemed to shock. “Percival,” he said, “come here! Look at this in the sand, blood!”
Everyone seemed alarmed, so I had to explain about the wounded dog I had found. “Whose dog was it?” asked Sir Percival
“The house keeper said it was Mrs. Catherick’s dog.” I replied, remembering too late that the visit was meant to be kept a secret.
“What the devil was Mrs. Catherick doing here?”
This question came with such rudeness and anger that I turned away. Count Fosco laid his hand on Sir Percival’s arm. “My dear Percival, gently, gently”
To my great surprise, Sir Percival apologized to me, and Count Fosco then said, “Why not question the house keeper, Percival? Since she seems to know all about it.”
Sir Percival took the point, and immediately left us to return to the house. The Count seemed fascinated by Mrs. Catherick, and wanted to know all about her visit. I tried to say as little as possible, but Laura asked questions, too. And in the end, the Count knew as much as we did about Mrs. Catherick and her daughter Anne. I was quite sure from his surprise of the story that the Count had known nothing of Anne Catherick, and easily I wondered Sir Percival had not told his closest friend.
When went back to the house, Sir Percival came to greet us. “I am sorry to say I have to leave you. I have to drive a long and won’t be back until tomorrow. First though I would like to finish that little business matter. Will you come to the library? It won’t take minute.”
In the library, he got a document out of a cupboard, and put it on the table. It was folded in such a way that all the writing was hidden and only the places to sign were visible. Handing a pen to Laura, he said, “Sign that. You and Fosco ought to sign that after with Miss. Halcombe.”
“What do you want to me to sign?” Laura asked quietly
“I have no time to explain. I have to leave. It’s just business.” he said angrily, “Women don’t understand business. Just sign it!”
“But surely I ought to know what I am signing.”
“I see, so you are saying you don’t trust me, is that it? What kind of a wife is that!”
To help Laura I said, “I am afraid I can not be a witness if she doesn’t understand what she is signing.”
Sir Percival turned to me furiously. “How dare you! You are against in my house! You take my wife side against me!”
“Control your unfortunate temper, Percival!” said the Count, and I heard him whisper to him, “You idiot!” But Laura had put the pen down, and moved to my side. “Lady Glyde is right.” the Count then said, “Let the signature wait until tomorrow.”
Sir Percival swore at him, but moved away from the table. “All right!” then he said, “Until tomorrow! Anyway, I have to go, but you will sign tomorrow, or…” he gave his wife a cold hard stare, and went out.
As Laura and I moved to the door, the Count approached us. “You have just seen Sir Percival at his worst.” he said, “As his an old friend, I apologize for him, and promise he won’t behave like that tomorrow.”
I had begun to realize that I could not hope to remain at Black Water Park now, without the influence and support of the Count. So I answered by thanking him warmly. Then I led Laura out and took her up to my room for a rest. While we were there, she told me how cruel Sir Percival had been to her since their marriage and how unhappy she was. I tried to calm her and find a solution to the problem of the signature. Suddenly I had an idea of writing to Mr. Gilmore’s partner, Mr. Cole, and asking for his advice. In my letter, I also asked him to get a messenger to bring the reply by one o’clock the next day. I then put the letter into the post bag in the hall. Just at that moment, Madam Fosco appeared and asked to speak to me in the garden. She spoke to me for a full half hour about how much sympathy she had for me. I found this very odd indeed since she had shown very little interest in me before. When I finally returned, I saw the Count also putting a letter in the post bag. For some reason I decided to check that my letter was properly closed, so I got it out of the bag. This was lucky as I found the envelope had come open. “How strange!” I thought, “Perhaps there had been something wrong with it, or perhaps… No, that could be no other explanation.”
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首页>听力教程>书虫牛津英语有声读物6级>白衣女人.The.Woman.in.White>
Part two: the Story Told by Marian Halcombe
Six: An Appointment by the Lake
After dinner that evening, Laura and I went for a walk down to the lake. The atmosphere was gloomy and depressing, but at least we were alone. “I want to have no secrets from you, Marian.” Laura said, “But I am sure you have already guessed what my married life is like. Sir Percival said such cruel things to me in Italy that I turned for comfort to my memory of those happy days with Walter Hartright, and I have to tell you, Marian. Sir Percival now knows that Walter is the man I loved.” I stared at her, and what a little hope I had left began to die. “It was at a party in Rome. Some people from London said I should have drawing lessons, and recommended a Mr. Hartright. I could not control myself when I heard his name, and my husband noticed, ‘So it was him, wasn’t it?’ he said with a horrible smile, ‘Well, we will see about Mr. Hartright. You will be sorry and so will he to the end of your lives. And Marian, he uses this knowledge like a whip to punish me day in and day out（日复一日）.”
“Oh, Laura!” I said, putting my arms around her, “This was my fault! Yes, my fault.” I remember the wild despair of Walter’s face as I told him to leave, as I tore these young hearts apart, and I had done this for Sir Percival Glyde, for Sir Percival Glyde.
It was growing dark when we set off for home. And as we left, Laura seized my arm. “Marian, Look!” By the lake was a dark figure, half hidden by the evening mist rising off the water. We began to walk quickly. “I am sure it’s following us.” Laura whispered, “Is it a man or a woman?” She was shaking with fear.
“It’s hard to tell in this light.” I said, then called out, “Who’s there?” There was no answer. We hurried back through the wood, and when we reached the home I sent Laura upstairs and went to find out where everyone was. The Count and his wife, the servants and the housekeepers, all inside. The figure by the lake was no one from the house. So who could it have been?
The next day Laura discovered she had lost her bracelet, and thought she must drop it near the lake. She went out to look for it while I waited for the messenger from Mr. Cole. One o’clock came. By now I was so suspicious of everyone in the house that I decided to slip out and meet the messenger myself. Taking great care not be seen, I went down to the main gate and a little while along the road. Soon a cab appeared. I stopped it and said, “Are you going to Black Water Park?”
A man pulled his head out and said, “Yes, with a letter for Miss. Halcombe.”
“You may give the letter to me.” I said, “I am Miss. Halcombe.” I read the letter quickly. ‘Dear Miss. Halcombe, your letter has caused great anxiety. It seems very likely that Lady Glyde’s signature is needed, so that it alone of all of the part of her twenty thousand pounds can be made to Sir Percival. This is most certainly illegal, and Lady Glyde should not sign any document until I have examined it first. Sincerely! William Cole.’
I read this very thankfully, and told the messenger to say that I understood the letter. As I spoke these words, Count Fosco came around the corner and suddenly appeared in front of me. Completely taken by surprise, I stared at him speechlessly. The messenger drove away in his cab and the Count took my arm to walk home with me. He talked pleasantly of this and that, and asked no questions about letters or messengers, so I assumed he had found out everything. I must have read my letter, returned it to the post bag and now knew that I had received the answer. There was no point trying to deceive him, so I said nothing and just tried to seem quite cool and calm. Back at the house, we found Sir Percival had returned, in an even worse mood than before it seemed. When I told Laura was out looking for her bracelet, he growled, “Bracelet or no bracelet, I shall expect to see her in the library in half an hour.”
I turned to go into the house, but behind me heard the Count saying to Sir Percival, “May I have five minutes’ talk with you here on the grass?” They walked off together, and I went inside to the sitting room, to think over all that had happened. Before long, however, the door opened softly. The Count looked in. “Good news! Miss. Halcombe” he said, “The business of the signature is put off for the moment. I am sure you are relieved.” He went out before I had recovered from my amazement. There could be no doubt that this change was due to his influence. His discovery of my writing to London and receiving an answer had caused him to interfere. Now there was even more to think about, but exhausted by worry and the heat of the day my eyes closed and I fell into a little sleep.
I woke to find Laura’s hand on my shoulder. “Marian, the figure of the lake! I’ve just spoken to her. It’s Anne Catherick. Look! She found my bracelet.”
Still half asleep, I stared at her stupidly. “Anne Catherick?”
“Yes, I was searching in the boat house,” Laura went on, “when a woman in a white dress came in. And said quietly, ‘Miss. Fairlie, I have your bracelet. Your mother would not want you to lose it.’ I jumped up, but her voice was so kind that I wasn’t afraid. I asked her how she knew my mother. She said her name was Anne Catherick, and asked me if I remembered as a little girl, walking with her and my mother to the school in Limmeridge one day. I did remember. Suddenly I saw we were alike each other, but her face was paler and thinner and tired. It was how my face might look after a long illness. ‘Why do you call me Miss. Fairlie?’ I asked, and she answered, ‘Because I loved the name of Fairlie and hated the name of Glyde.’”
“Did she say anything about your husband?” I asked
“She said that after she wrote the letter, she did not have the courage to stay in Limmeridge to try to prevent my marriage to him. She was afraid he would find her and shut her up in the asylum again. But she was not afraid anymore, because she was so ill, she thought she was dying. Then, Marian, she said that she and her mother knew a secret that my husband was afraid of.”
“Yes! Go on!” I said eagerly, “What secret?”
“She was just going to tell me, when she thought she heard a noise outside. ‘We are not alone.’ she said, ‘Someone is watching. Come here tomorrow this time and I will tell you.’ Then she pushed me to one side and disappeared.”
“Oh, Laura, Laura! Another chance lost, but you must keep the appointment tomorrow. It seems so important. I will follow you at a safe distance. She must not escape this time.”
We were silent for time. Then Laura said anxiously, “Why hasn’t Sir Percival called us to the library to sign the document?”
“Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you.” I said, “Thanks to Count Fosco, the business of the signature has been postponed.”
“But why?” Laura said, amazed, “If Sir Percival urgently needs money, how could it be postponed?”
“I heard Sir Percival’s lawyer mention a second plan, to give a document promising payment in three months.”
“Oh, Marian,” she said, “that would be such a relief.”
“Yes, it would. Let’s hope that it is true.”
That evening Sir Percival was polite, even pleasant, especially to Laura. This must be due to the Count’s influence, and it worried me. What lay behind it? I was sure that Sir Percival’ s sudden journey yesterday had been to ___（一处地名）, to question Mrs. Catherick. What had he learnt? What were his plans? As the evening passed, I grew more and more uneasy. And I went to bed feeling very anxious about what the next day would bring. I was not wrong to be anxious.
The next day Laura and I arranged that after the lunch she would go alone to the boat house, and that I would follow a little later, taking great care of Anne Catherick did not see me, in case she was frightened by the appearance of another stranger. Sir Percival had gone out earlier in the morning, and did not appear even for lunch, so it was quite easy to put our plan into action. However, when I came quietly up to the back of the boat house, I heard no voices, no sounds of movement, nothing. Soon I was searching inside of the boat house and softly calling Laura’s name, but no one answered and no one appeared. Outside I searched the ground for signs and found the footprints of two people in the sand, big footprints like man, and small footprints which I was sure were Laura’s. There was also a little hole in the sand by the wall of the boat house. Desperate with worry, I hurried back to the house. The first person I met was Mrs. Michelson, the housekeeper. “Do you know,” I asked, “whether Lady Glyde is coming?”
“Yes, she has, Miss Halcombe. And I am afraid something unfortunate has happened. Lady Glyde ran upstairs in tears, and Sir Percival has told me to dismiss her servant, Fanny.”
My heart sank. Fanny was Laura’s personal servant from Limmeridge, and the only person in the house we both trusted. I ran upstairs to Laura’s room. Her door was shut and there was one of Sir Percival’s house servants standing in front of it. “Move away!” I said, “Don’t you see that I want to go in?”
“But you mustn’t go in.” she answered, “I have my orders.”
Wild with anger, I turned and went downstairs to find Sir Percival. He was in the library with the Count and Countess. “Am I understand that your wife’s room is a prison?” I asked, staring him full in the face.
“Yes, that is what you are to understand.” he answered
“Take care how you treat your wife.” I shouted furiously, “There are laws to protect women, and I will use those laws.”
Instead of answering me, he turned to the Count. The Count looked at me with his calm, cold, grey eyes. “But it was the Countess.” he spoke
“Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Percival.” she said suddenly, “But I can not remain in a house where ladies are treated as your wife and Miss. Halcombe have been treated today.”
Sir Percival stared at her in shocked silence, knowing as I did she would not have said this without the Count’s permission.
“I agreed with my wife.” the Count said quietly
Sir Percival swore, then whispered angrily, “Oh, right, have you run away?” With these words, he left the room.
“We have made the worst-tempered man in England. See reason,” said the Count, “Thanks to your courage, Miss Halcombe. This insulting situation is now ended.”
I tried to speak normally, but could not. The Count left the library, then returned in a few minutes later to say that Lady Glyde had the freedom of her own house again. Immediately I rushed upstairs to Laura’s room. She was alone inside, and I was in such a hurry that I did not close the door properly behind me. “Marian!” she said thankfully, “How did you get here?”
“It was the Count’s influence, of course.” I said
“That horrible man!” she cried, “He is a miserable spy.”
Just then we heard a knock on the door. It was the Countess bringing me a handkerchief I had dropped. Her face was white, and I saw in her eyes that she had been listening at the door.
“Oh, Laura!” I said when she had gone, “You shouldn’t have called the Count spy. We shall both regret it.”
“But he is a spy, Marian. There was someone watching me at the lake yesterday, and it was him. He told Sir Percival who watched and waited all morning for me and Anne Catherick, but she didn’t come. I found a note from her hidden in a hole in the sand. She said she had been followed yesterday by a fat old man. He hadn’t caught her, but she was afraid to come back this afternoon. She hid this note very early in the morning, and said she would see me again soon to tell me Sir Percival’s secret.”
“What happened to the note?” I said, “Have you got it?”
“No, while I was reading it, Sir Percival appeared. He took it from me, and demanded to hear everything Anne Catherick had said. He held my arm so tightly. Look see how he has bruised it! What could I do, Marian? I was helpless. I told him everything.”
I looked at the bruises on Laura’s arm, and felt such furious hatred for Sir Percival that I dare not speak.
“But he didn’t believe me.” Laura went on, “He said he knew she had told me more, and he would lock me up until I confessed the truth. Then he took me back to the house, gave orders for Fanny to leave, and locked me in my room. Oh, Marian, he was like a mad man. What are we to do?”
“He is mad, mad with fear. He thinks you know his secret.” I said, “I must act now to protect you. Who knows how long I will be allowed to stay here?” I thought hard for a few minutes, “I will write two letters, and give them to Fanny to take with her. I can’t trust the post bag here anymore. One for Mr. Cole, telling him of your bruises and Sir Percival’s violent behavior.”
“And whom is the other letter for?” asked Laura anxiously
“For Mr. Fairlie,” I said, “your lay selfish uncle! I’ll make him invite you for a visit to Limmeridge without your husband.”
I left then, and went to my room to write the letters. Fanny had already gone, and was staying the night in a little hotel in the village before beginning the long journey to Cumberland the next day. I decided I had time before dinner to walk to the village and back, so I slipped quietly out of the house and set off. From time to time I looked behind me. Was I being followed? Or was my imagination playing tricks on me? By now I was suspicious of everything, every tiny sound, every shadow on the road, every breath of wind. Earlier while writing the letters, I thought I had heard the rush of silk dress outside my door. I had even wondered if someone had been in my room, looking through the things in my desk. I hurried on, trying to put these thoughts out of my mind. When I got to the little hotel, I saw Fanny in her room. She was very upset leaving Laura, and started crying, but stopped when I told her that Lady Glyde and I needed her help. “Here are two letters.” I said, “Post one address to Mr. Cole in London tomorrow and deliver the other to Mr. Fairlie yourself when you get home to Limmeridge. Keep them safe!”
Fanny put the letters down in front of her dress. “They’ll stay there, Miss.” she said, “Till I have done what you tell me.”
原文是本人自己听写出来的，如有错误，请务必指出，谢谢支持！
首页>听力教程>书虫牛津英语有声读物6级>白衣女人.The.Woman.in.White>
Part two: the Story Told by Marian Halcombe
Seven: A Conversation in the Night
I arrived back at the house with only twenty minutes to get ready for dinner, and to slip into Laura’s room to say that the letters were safe in Fanny’s hands. Laura looked pale. “I’m not coming down to dinner.” she said, “Sir Percival came to my door, shouting at me to tell him where Anne Catherick is.”
“At least that means he hasn’t found her yet.” I said
At dinner, the Count looked hot and red in the face, and his clothes were a little untidy. Where’d he been out to? I wondered. He looked troubled by some secret annoyance or anxiety, and was almost silent at Sir Percival. At the end of the meal, when Madam Fosco and I left the table, the Count stood up, too. “Where are you going, Fosco?” Sir Percival said, “Sit down, and have another glass of wine. I want a quiet talk with you.”
“Not now, Percival, later!” he answered
Early in the day, I had heard Sir Percival make the same request, and this was the second time the Count had postponed the talk. Why? I wondered, and what was it that Sir Percival wanted to discuss so urgently?
We went into the living room, and Madam Fosco, usually so slow and deliberate in her movements, drank her tea in great speed and then slipped quietly out of the room. I began to leave, too, but the Count stopped me, first by a request for more tea, then by asking my opinion on some music, and then by playing several noisy Italian songs on the piano. Eventually I escaped from him and went up to Laura’s room. Had she seen or heard anything of Madam Fosco? I asked. No, she had not. We talked together until ten o’clock, and then I went downstairs again to say goodnight. Sir Percival, the Count and his wife were sitting together in the living room. I noticed that Madam Fosco’s face was now hot and red. Where had she been? And what had she been doing? As I looked at her, she gave a little smile as though some private joke. I said goodnight to everybody, and as I left the room, I heard Sir Percival say impatiently to the Count, “Come outside and have a smoke, Fosco.”
“With pleasure, Percival, when all the ladies have gone to bed.” replied the Count. Up in my room, I could not stop myself from thinking about this private discussion between Sir Percival and the Count postponed all day and now it seemed about to take place in the silence and loneliness of the night. After a while, I went from my bedroom into my sitting room, and closed the door between the rooms. It was dark as no candles were lit, and I looked out of the open window for some time down into the blackness of the garden. There was a smell like rain and still heavier. Suddenly I saw two red points of light advancing in the dark and stopping below my bedroom window inside which a candle was burning. One red point was small, the other was big. The Count smoking a cigarette and Sir Percival smoking a cigar, I think. They could not see me in the darkness of my sitting room, so I waited to hear what they said. “Why don’t you come in and sit down?” Sir Percival said
“Wait till we see that light go out.” replied the Count, “When I know she’s in bed and I have checked the room on the each side of the library, then we will talk.”
Such secrecy! I decided I must listen to this conversation in spite of the Count’s efforts to keep it private. The idea terrified me, but Laura’s happiness, perhaps even her life might depend on what I heard. How could I do it? I realized that I could get out onto the flat front roof, which round past the bedrooms, about three feet below the windows. It was narrow, but there was room to move along it till I was above the library window. The Count and Sir Percival usually sat near the open window, smoking, and if they did, I would be able to hear them from above. I went back to my bedroom, put on a long dark cloak with a hood and put out the candle. Then after a while I returned to my sitting room and climbed out of the window onto the front roof. My heart began to beat very fast. I had to pass five windows. Four were dark, but the fifth window was the Countess’ room, and it looked out over the exact place above the library where I planned to sit, and there was still a light in it. I crawled along the roof, then went down on my hands and knees to pass her window. As I passed, I looked up and saw her shadow against the thin curtains of the window. I stopped breathing, “Has she heard me? Or she looked out? No, the shadow moves away. She’s gone. Now I move to my position at the edge of the roof and begin to listen. Are they there? Or have they gone elsewhere for their talk? Ah, I can hear the Count’s voice.”
“Miss Halcombe’s light is out. The rooms next door are empty. The only window with a light in is my wife’s, so now we may talk. We are at a serious crisis in our refunds, Percival, and we must decide about the future tonight.”
“It’s a worse crisis that you think.” growled Sir Percival
“Listen, Percival. This is our situation. We both came to this house in need of money, and the only way of getting it was with the help of your wife. Now what did I tell you? I told you never to lose your temper with her, and especially never with her sister, Miss Halcombe. And have you remembered this? Not once, your mad temper lost your wife’s signature, lost the ready money, made Miss. Halcombe write to the lawyer for the first time.”
“First time? Has she written again?”
“Yes, she has written again today.”
“What? How does he know that? Did he follow me to the hotel? But even if he did, he couldn’t have seen the letters. They went straight from my hands to Fanny’s dress. So how does he know?”
“You are lucky,” the Count continues, “that you have me in the house to undo the harm that you do. Lucky that I said no when you were mad enough to make your wife a prisoner and keep her from Miss. Halcombe. Can’t you see that Miss. Halcombe has the courage and understanding of a man? How I admire that woman! But she stands like a rock between us and that pretty little wife of yours. Now the money, we haven’t obtained the loan, a horribly expensive loan by signing a document promising to repay it in three months. When the time comes, is there really no way to repay the money except by the help of your wife?”
“None!”
“What money do you actually get from your wife at present?”
“Only the income from her twenty thousand pounds”
“Do you expect any more from your wife?”
“Absolutely nothing! Except in the case of her death”
“Aha… in the case of her death”
A pause, it has begun to rain and already I felt wet and cold.
Sir Percival again, “If she leaves no children, I’ll get her twenty thousand pounds.”
“Percival, do you care about your wife?”
“Fosco, that’s a very direct question.”
“Let’s say your wife dies before the end of the summer.”
“Forget it, Fosco!”
“You would gain twenty thousand pounds.”
“Speak for yourself as well as for me, Fosco. You would also gain my wife’s death would be ten thousand pounds in your wife’s pocket.”
“Percival, here is the position. If your wife lives, you pay that debt with her signature on the document. If your wife dies, you pay the debt with her death.”
The light in Madam Fosco’s room goes out, and the front roof is now sunk in darkness. The rain continues. I listen with my every nerve in my body, memorizing word after word.
“Percival, you must now leave this matter in my hands. I have more than two months to find the solution, so let’s not talk about it anymore. Let me help you with your other difficulty, the difficulty that seems to have the name of Anne Catherick.”
“Look, Fosco! We may be friends but we still have our secrets. This does not concern you. Please don’t ask me about it.”
“My friend, I can respect the secret, so I won’t ask you to tell me. But can I help you all the same?”
“If I don’t find Anne Catherick, I am a lost man. Both she and her mother know this, this secret. It could ruin me, Fosco. Anne Catherick has spoken to my wife, and I am sure she’s told her.”
“But is your wife surely it’s in her interest to keep it secret?”
“If she loved me, that would be true. But she is in love with someone she met before we married, a drawing teacher called Walter Hartright, and who helped Anne Catherick escape from the asylum; Hartright, who saw her again in Cumberland; Hartright, he knows the secret, and my wife knows the secret. If they get together, they will use it against me.”
“Yes, yes I see. Where is Mr. Hartright?”
“Out of the country, he sailed for America.”
“Don’t worry then. I will deal with him if he ever comes back, depend on it（请放心）. But first we must find Anne Cathercik. What about her mother? Can she be trusted?”
“It’s inherent trust not to tell anyone the secret.”
“Good! Now how will I recognize Anne Catherick?”
“Easily! She’s the pale sickly likeness of my wife.”
A noise of a cheer pushed back. The Count has jumped to his feet and is walking about. He seems amazed. “What? Are she and your wife related to each other?”
“Not at all!”
“And yet so alike, Wow! I will know her when I see her.”
“What the devil you laughing about, Fosco?”
“Just a thought, my good friend. Just a thought! But enough for tonight. You will pay the debt, and find Anne Catherick, I promise you. You can put your mind at rest, Percival.”
Not another word is spoken. I hear the library door closed. I am wet to the skin, stiff and aching with the cold. At first, I can’t move, but slowly painfully I crept back to my window and climbed in. As I fell on the floor, I hear the clock struck a quarter past one. Time passes, somehow I managed to get up and put on dry clothes. I am burning, hot and shivering with cold. I know I must write down what I have heard, so I find paper and pen and write without stopping. The fever rises in me burning, burning. I open the window for cool air. Eight o’clock, bright sunshine which ___ my eyes, my head aches; my bones ache; my skin burns, and I can not stop shivering. I lie down to sleep. My writing finished. And in my fever I see Count Fosco come into my room and read the pages I have written. He smiles. I am helpless, unable to move, speak, breath, and I sink into the long black night of illness.
原文是本人自己听写出来的，如有错误，请务必指出，谢谢支持！
英语听力：新概念英语第四册单词MP3 Lesson 02
lesson two
acre 英目
authority 权威
be content with 对......满足
beast 野兽
census 统计数字
flocks and herds 牛羊
football pitch 足球场
on one's behalf 为......利益
owe 感激
spare
[color=#333333][font=arial][size=13px]宽恕，饶（命）[/size][/font][/color]
在哪能，怎么都看不到的
[b]回复 [url=http://bbs.tingroom.com/redirect.php?goto=findpost&pid=29731&ptid=3260]99#[/url] [i]yoyo530521[/i] [/b]
http://bbs.tingroom.com/viewthread.php?tid=774994&extra=，（帖子）我看要发新帖，就发了个帖子，没有在原版上回复。新编剑桥商务英语中级第三版听力 09的原文听力。 [url=http://www.tingroom.com/lesson/xbjqswzjdsbtl/108856.html]http://www.tingroom.com/lesson/xbjqswzjdsbtl/108856.html[/url]（听力链接）[size=14px]新编剑桥商务英语中级第三版听力 09[/size]
[size=14px]Planning a seminar[/size]
[size=14px]Recorded message :Thank you for calling Business Circle Conferencing. Please state your name and address. Then give the name of the event you'd like information on and we will send it to you immediately. Please speak after the tone.[/size]
[size=14px]Ray : Hello. This is Mr Ray Naunton. That's N-A-U-N-T-O-N. I'm coming to the event next week called 'Launching your business online' and so you've already got my details. Anyway, the reason I'm calling is that I won't be able to arrive in time for registration and the buffet on the Sunday evening. My train doesn't arrive until nine fifteen, so I'm going to take a taxi straight to the hotel. So I probably won't get to the training centre until Monday morning. I hope that's OK. Anyway it's just to confirm that I will be there for the course. Oh, and could someone send me the schedule for the two days? You can email it to me at r dot naunton at worldsyouroyster dot com. Worldsyouroyster is all one word. That's w-o-r-l-d-s-y-o-u-r-o-y-s-t-e-r. And all in lower case. Thank you.[/size]
[i=s] 本帖最后由 billatasp 于 2017-9-28 11:46 编辑 [/i]
俺弄简单的 自己听写的，如有错误希望指正
[size=12px]听写的[/size]原文：
[url=http://bbs.tingroom.com/thread-787188-1-1.html]http://bbs.tingroom.com/thread-787188-1-1.html[/url]MP3:
[url=http://www.tingroom.com/lesson/myfirstbook/67343.html]http://www.tingroom.com/lesson/myfirstbook/67343.html[/url]
我的第一本英文作文书10
Chapter 10: The Moon Festival
Tips:
The Moon Festival is on August 15 of the lunar calendar. Inthe old days, there were many customs associated it with celebrating afestival. They ate moon cake because it looked like the Moon. They also atepomelo for good luck, because the name of it in mandarin sounds like blessingthe children. Sometimes, the adults use the peel of pomelo to make a cap forthe kids. It was so funny.
Nowadays, people still eat moon cake and pomelo. Butnowadays, people like to have a barbeque on the Moon Festival. They usually goto the river side, park, or other open fields, relatives or friends often gettogether to celebrate the festival. This Moon festival, I went to the barbequewith my relatives in a big park. I ate lot of food and pomelos and my unclemade me a pomelo-peel cap too.
The Moon Festival is a very important day for us because onthis day people can have a reunion with their friends or relatives from faraway. Everybody can relax and enjoy the joy of reunion. So next time, don’tforget to invite your friends of relatives to your barbeque party.