【英文文学】More Stories of Married Life.docx

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1、【英文文学】More Stories of Married LifeA Little SurpriseAnita Gibbons has been waiting outside at the station on the bench nearest the field since twenty minutes of six, and it was now nearly seven as she rose to go. The bright pleasure with which she had started out was fled: he had not come. The sun, w

2、ind, and reform of the spring afternoon, in combination with a becoming new suit and hat, had produced their annual effect of inspiring her to surprise her husband by meeting him on his return from town, that they might walk home bridally together in the sweet evening daylight. She had been hitherto

3、 undeterred by remembrance of the historic fact that Mr. Gibbons was never known to come on time when thus pleasurably expected; but memory was beginning to chill her now, as well as the wind on her back. She had done all this before!Yet what business unknown this morning; could have kept him? It wa

4、s neither the first nor the last of the month, always mysterious days of threatened detention. He had not passed her by unnoticed, for she had risen as each train came in to scan the men who4 dropped on to the platform and hurried off, some of them looking back to raise their hats to the pretty woma

5、n on the platform.She hurried now as she walked across the field, feeling guiltily amid her disappointment that dinner would be waiting, and that she had left no word of her whereabouts with the maid, having in fact slipped out of the house unseen, to escape the clamouring notice of her only child,

6、who was near his early bed-time.“Good-evening, Mrs. Gibbons. Coming back from town so late?”She looked up to see a friend approaching on the foot-path.“Oh, good-evening, Mr. Ferris! No, Ive only come from the station; Ive been looking for my husband.”He stopped half-way past her.“Why, he came out in

7、 the five-fifteen with me! He slipped off when it slowed up, and jumped down the embankment; he said he was in a hurry to get home. Too bad if youve missed him.”“Yes, it is,” said Mrs. Gibbons, hastily, breaking almost into a run. Arnold, she knew, hated to find her out of the house.As she went up t

8、he steps now, the door opened before she reached it, and an excited voice exclaimed: “Ah, maam, its yourself5 at last! Its the neighbourhood we do be having searched for you!”“What do you mean, Katy?” Mrs. Gibbons, who had stood arrested on the threshold, pushed her way in. “Where is Mr. Gibbons?”“H

9、es gone.”“Gone!”“Yes, maam, gone back to the city. Twas like this: he bid me say that he had to be meeting friendsI disremember the nameon the other side, at the ferry, or he could have telephoned em, maam. Twas a grand dinner they had planned for to-night, unexpected like.”“Was the name”Mrs. Gibbon

10、s paused that she might have courage to grasp her loss“Was the name Atterbury?”“It was, maam.”Her beloved Atterburys! They were to sail for Rio at the end of the week. This was a dinner and a theatre party planned before and postponed. They could not have it without her.“Mr. Gibbons must have known

11、Id be home in a minute!”“Sure, he waited for you, maam, till he had to run to the station below to catch the express; but he bid me tell you to be sure and take the seven oclock train in, and hed6 keep the party waiting at the ferry for you.”Mrs. Gibbons glanced at the clock. It was after seven now!

12、 But there was a seven-twenty-five train which reached town almost as soon, and Arnold would surely wait for that, even if the others had gone on to Martins, where they would dine. The Atterburys always went to Martins. She was accustomed to try and bend fate to her uses with an uncalculating ardour

13、 that focussed itself entirely on the impulse of the moment. To the suburbanite a little dinner in town is the height of pleasure, the one perfect feast! And with the Atterburys! She really could not miss it.“I dont care for anything to eat. Dont let the fire out,” she dictated rapidly. “See that Ha

14、rold doesnt get uncovered, and dont bolt the front door. Well be home before twelve, but you neednt sit up for us. Just lie on the lounge in the nursery.” She did not remind forgetful Katy to put the milk tickets in the pail set outside the back door, and only remembered it as she was half-way to th

15、e station.The train was due in town at eight-five, but it was late here, and the extra ten minutes seemed a thousand “prickly seconds.” The spring twilight was coming to a close, and7 when she stepped into the car in which the lamps gleamed dully over the plush seats, it was like stepping into the l

16、ong tunnel of the night. Only a few men from further up the road sprawled and dozed wearily on their way. She was unaccustomed to going out thus alone, and for an instant a panic-struck thought of failure seized her, but she lost it in the action of her hurrying brain, which constantly pictured the

17、delightful meeting with her expectant husband and the waiting party. By the inalienable law of travel, which ordains that delay in one mode of locomotion means delay in every other, the ferry-boat could not “hit her slip,” but wobbled up and down crosswise in the current, bumping against the piles a

18、t either end, with much ringing of the pilots bell, and losing of minutesand minutesand minutes. But at last Mrs. Gibbons made her way into the big, lighted waiting-room, the haven of her hopes. It took no more than one glance to reveal that there was neither group nor husband waiting for her. The p

19、lace was entirely empty, save for a few Italian emigrants, and the clock pointed to twenty minutes of nine.So vividly had Mrs. Gibbons pictured her own state of mind as that of her husbanda habit of which fell experience could not break herthat even in the shock of not finding8 him she felt instantl

20、y that some provision had been made for this contingency. She could go straight over and join the party at Martins, but he might have left some word for her. The man at the news stand might know. She hovered uncertainly around the pictorial exhibit, trying to screw up a suddenly-waning courage, and

21、then found voice to say engagingly:“Im looking for my husband.”“What did you say, lady?” The man stopped in his work of sorting papers.“Im looking for my husband. Hes been waiting for me here for a long timewith a partybut hes gone now. I thought perhaps he had left some message here with you.”“What

22、 kind of looking man was he?” asked the news clerk. He leaned forward companionably.“Hehes tall, and clean shaven, with a light overcoat, and blue eyesand” She groped around for some distinguishing characteristic to elicit a gleam of response“a square chinwith a dimple in it.” She felt her own fatuo

23、usness. “Youyoud know him if you saw him.”The clerk turned to a boy who had appeared behind the counter.“Did you see a man with a light overcoat,9 and”a spasm passed over his face“and a dimple in his chin? Did he leave any message here?” Mrs. Gibbons felt hotly that he was laughing at her, although

24、he looked impassive.“Naw,” said the boy, “he didnt leave no message with me.” He added on reflection, “I aint seen no one hanging round but a chunky feller with a black mustache.”“He hasnt seen any one but a stout man with a black mustache,” reported the clerk officially, while two pairs of eyes sta

25、red at her in a disconcerting manner.“Good-evening, Mrs. Gibbons; is there anything we can do for you?”“Oh, Mrs. Worthingtonand Mr. Worthington!” Mrs. Gibbons looked as one who sees a familiar face in the desert. “You dont know how glad I am to meet you! Im looking for my husband.”“Indeed!” said Mrs

26、. Worthington, with a faint chill of surprise. She was a slight woman, elegantly gowned, with a thin expressionless face. Her husband was like unto her, with the overcoat of opulence. They were new neighbours of Mrs. Gibbons, who kept themselves politely aloof from suburban social life, spending mos

27、t of their time in town, where they seemed to have a large connection. They were perhaps the10 last persons to whom Mrs. Gibbons would have turned in a dilemma, but she found comfort in their curious attention as she explained the situation, to conclude by saying:“Of course, Ill go right over now to

28、 Martins. If they waited for me here until after eight, they would be hardly more than started at dinner. All I want to know is what car I ought to take.”Mrs. Worthingtons eyelids flickered a response to her husband.“Pray allow us to escort you there,” said Mr. Worthington. “It is really quite on ou

29、r way.”“Oh, youre very kind,” said Mrs. Gibbons, following her leaders gratefully, after a moment or two of demur. She had naturally the feeling that when a man took the thing in hand it would be all right.“I didnt know it was so dark at night when you were out alone by yourself, until I came off th

30、e ferry-boat,” she confided.Mrs. Worthingtons eyelids flickered assent. She sat in the trolley car in a sort of isolated though subdued richness of attire, her heavy silken skirts folded over decorously to escape contaminating touch, her embossed cloak and large boa held elegantly in place with her

31、white-gloved hand. She11 seemed to demand a coach and four. The light spring suit which Mrs. Gibbons had thought so fetching in the afternoon looked cheap and thin in comparison. She did not know of the blue intenseness of her eyes and the rich flush on her young cheek which made each man who entere

32、d the car turn to look at her.When Mr. Worthington bent over from the suspending strap to ask, “You are quite sure your husband is at Martins?” she answered with her bright, upward glance, “Oh, yes, quite sure!” He would be at a little round table, with John and Agnes Atterbury, in the red-carpeted

33、room, looking out for her, and how glad they would be to see her!She dashed up the steps ahead of the Worthingtons, and a waiter came deferentially forward. Why should her heart suddenly fail her when she stood looking in upon the lighted scene?“Im looking for my husband,” said Mrs. Gibbons. She das

34、hed from one doorway to another, peering in. “No, he isnt hereperhaps in the other roomI dont see him here either. Its very strange, very!”“What is it Madame desires?” The head waiter was following her rushing movements.“Im looking for my husband”in full12 torrent of explanation her tone had grown l

35、ouder. “He came here a little while ago.” She paused, suddenly aware of a whisper sibilating around.“Shes looking for her husband.” Several people stopped eating. The head waiter regarded her suspiciously.“Was Monsieur alone?”“No, oh, no!” said Mrs. Gibbons with eager candour. “No, indeed! There was

36、 a lady”“Aah!” said the head waiter. “Monsieur was with another lady!” An embarrassing murmur of interest made itself felt. He fixed her with a placating eye, as he added, hurriedly, “But Monsieur, as Madame perceives, is not here. He exists not. If the carriage of Madame”he stopped happily“But beho

37、ld now the friends of Madame!”The wild blaze of happiness died down almost as suddenly as it had risen in Mrs. Gibbons breast, as she turned to see the Worthingtons advancing decorously once more to her rescue. Her bright hopes were buried in ashes.“Oh, I dont know what to do,” she breathed. “He isn

38、t here after allhe isnt here!”“Will you not go on with us to the13 opera?” asked Mrs. Worthington. “We would be very glad to have you. We did not care to get in for the first act.”“Oh, no, I couldnt do thatyoure so very kindbut I couldnt really. I must get home at once. Mr. Gibbons will go home earl

39、y. I want to go home.”“We will then, of course, return with you,” said Mr. Worthington, resignedly.“Oh, please, please dont! It isnt at all necessary. I couldnt have you do it. I know the way now, andplease dont!”“Mr. Worthington will not allow you to go home alone,” said his wife, with polite weari

40、ness of the subject. “The next train does not leave until ten oclock. Of course, if you really wish so much to returnalthough Mr. Gibbons is not at all likely to get back before we woulddo not hesitate out of consideration for us or our convenience. But I think you would enjoy the opera.”Mrs. Gibbon

41、s stood unhappily irresolute. How could she drag these people home with her, much as she now longed to get there? If they would only let her go alone! After all, if Arnold were off having a good time, why shouldnt she be gay and have a good time, too?“Well, if you really want to take meand14 it wont

42、 be very late” She was conscious of her ungraciousness. “Oh, Ill enjoy it immensely!”“We will leave whenever you say so,” said Mr. Worthington, with his invariable deference.So unused was Mrs. Gibbons to going out with any one but her husband that Mr. Worthingtons arm felt startlingly thin and queer

43、 and unnatural when her hand rested on it as he helped her across the street. Everything was unnatural. Her acceptance, she found, necessitated his standing in the rear of the house, while she occupied his seat. Mrs. Worthington relinquished her entirely to the promised enjoyment. The music was inde

44、ed beautiful, but she still kept hold of the ever-tightening thread of suspense and longing; Arnold might be gay without her, but she couldnt be gay without him. To think of all she was missing choked her! Mr. Worthington came forward between the acts to ask perfunctorily if Mrs. Gibbons wished to l

45、eave, but his wife showed no signs of moving.It was with the first joy of the evening that she saw the curtain descend, and felt that she could tear at full speed for the elevated road and her own dear ferry and her own dear home. She must get15 there before Arnold, or he would be wild with anxiety;

46、 her desire to meet him in town was nothing to her desire now to head him off at home. But she reckoned without her host, literally. Her entertainers had been met by friends as they passed slowly down amid the crush in the aisle, and after the voluble greetings she was panic-struck by hearing one of

47、 the strangers say:“Youll come to supper with us now? Just around the corner!”“Oh, yes!” Mrs. Worthington was almost animated. “If we have time,” she added, turning to her husband.“Why, we cant get the twelve oclock, if we stay, but we will have plenty of time for the twelve-thirty, if Mrs. Gibbons

48、doesnt object,” said Mr. Worthington.“We have a friend with us,” said Mrs. Worthington, in languid explanation. “Mrs. Gibbons, Mrs. Freshet, Mr. Freshet.”“We will, of course, be pleased to have your friend take supper with us,” said Mrs. Freshet.How could Mrs. Gibbons object? Her eyes pleaded, but her lips were perforce silent; and, comfortably settled in the restaurant, the others talked about matters of common interest, while she sat on the edge of her chair by the gleaming little