旧式女孩 英文版 An Old-fashioned Girl
露意莎.梅.奥尔科特 Louisa May Alcott
CHAPTER XII FORBIDDEN FRUIT Page 2
"I don't agree. There 's precious little masking nowadays; wishthere was a little more sometimes," added Tom, thinking of severalblooming damsels whose beseeching eyes had begged him not toleave them to wither on the parent stem.
"I hope not, but I guess there 's a good deal more than any onewould suspect."
"What can you know about broken hearts and blighted beings?"asked Sydney, smiling at the girl's pensive tone.
Polly glanced up at him and her face dimpled and shone again, asshe answered, laughing: "Not much; my time is to come."
"I can't imagine you walking about the world with your back hairdown, bewailing a hard-hearted lover," said Tom.
"Neither can I. That would n't be my way."
"No; Miss Polly would let concealment prey on her damask cheeksand still smile on in the novel fashion, or turn sister of charity andnurse the heartless lover through small-pox, or some othercontagious disease, and die seraphically, leaving him to theagonies of remorse and tardy love."
Polly gave Sydney an indignant look as he said that in a slowsatirical way that nettled her very much, for she hated to bethought sentimental.
"That 's not my way either," she said decidedly. "I 'd try to outliveit, and if I could n't, I 'd try to be the better for it. Disappointmentneed n't make a woman a fool."
"Nor an old maid, if she 's pretty and good. Remember that, anddon't visit the sins of one blockhead on all the rest of mankind,"said Tom, laughing at her earnestness.
"I don't think there is the slightest possibility of Miss Polly's beingeither," added Sydney with a look which made it evident thatconcealment had not seriously damaged Polly's damask cheek asyet.
"There 's Clara Bird. I have n't seen her but once since she wasmarried. How pretty she looks!" and Polly retired behind the bigglass again, thinking the chat was becoming rather personal.
"Now, there 's a girl who tried a different cure for unrequitedaffection from any you mention. People say she was fond of Belle'sbrother. He did n't reciprocate but went off to India to spoil hisconstitution, so Clara married a man twenty years older than she isand consoles herself by being the best-dressed woman in the city."
"That accounts for it," said Polly, when Tom's long whisper ended.
"For what?"
"The tired look in her eyes."
"I don't see it," said Tom, after a survey through the glass.
"Did n't expect you would."
"I see what you mean. A good many women have it nowadays,"said Sydney over Polly's shoulder.
"What's she tired of? The old gentleman?" asked Tom.
"And herself," added Polly.
did n'tsound .
"You 've been reading French novels, I know you have. That 's justthe way the heroines go on," cried Tom.
"I have n't read one, but it 's evident you have, young man, and you'd better stop."
"I don't care for 'em; only do it to keep up my French. But howcame you to be so wise, ma'am?"
"Observation, sir. I like to watch faces, and I seldom see agrown-up one that looks perfectly happy."
"True for you, Polly; no more you do, now I think of it. I don'tknow but one that always looks so, and there it is."
"Where?" asked Polly, with interest.
"Look straight before you and you 'll see it."
Polly did look, but all she saw was her own face in the little mirrorof the fan which Tom held up and peeped over with a laugh in hiseyes.
"Do I look happy? I 'm glad of that," And Polly surveyed herselfwith care.
Both young men thought it was girlish vanity and smiled at itsnaive display, but Polly was looking for something deeper thanbeauty and was glad not to find it.
"Rather a pleasant little prospect, hey, Polly?"
"My bonnet is straight, and that 's all I care about. Did you ever seea picture of Beau Brummel?" asked Polly quickly.
"No."
"Well, there he is, modernized." And turning the fan, she showedhim himself.
"Any more portraits in your gallery?" asked Sydney, as if he likedto share all the nonsense going.
"One more."
"What do you call it?"
"The portrait of a gentleman." And the little glass reflected agratified face for the space of two seconds.
"Thank you. I 'm glad I don't disgrace my name," said Sydney,looking down into the merry blue eyes that thanked him silentlyfor many of the small kindnesses that women never can forget.
"Very good, Polly, you are getting on fast," whispered Tom,patting his yellow kids approvingly.
"Be quiet! Dear me, how warm it is!" And Polly gave him a frownthat delighted his soul.
"Come out and have an ice, we shall have time."
"Fan is so absorbed, I could n't think of disturbing her," said Polly,fancying that her friend was enjoying the evening as much as shewas a great mistake, by the way, for Fan was acting for effect, andthough she longed to turn and join them, would n't do it, unless acertain person showed signs of missing her. He did n't, and Fannychatted on, raging inwardly over her disappointment, andwondering how Polly could be so gay and selfish.
It was delicious to see the little airs Polly put on, for she felt as ifshe were somebody else, and acting a part. She leaned back, as ifquite oppressed by the heat, permitted Sydney to fan her, and paidhim for the service by giving him a flower from her bouquet,proceedings which amused Tom immensely, even while it piquedhim a little to be treated like an old friend who did n't count.
"Go in and win, Polly; I 'll give you my blessing," he whispered, asthe curtain rose again.
"It 's only part of the fun, so don't you laugh, you disrespectfulboy," she whispered back in a tone never used toward Sydney.
Tom did n't quite like the different way in which she treated them,and the word "boy" disturbed his dignity, for he was almosttwenty-one and Polly ought to treat him with more respect. Sydneyat the same moment was wishing he was in Tom's place young,comely, and such a familiar friend that Polly would scold andlecture him in the delightful way she did Tom; while Polly forgotthem both when the music began and left them ample time to lookat her and think about themselves.
While they waited to get out when all was over Polly heard Fanwhisper to Tom: "What do you think Trix will say to this?"
pleasant little prospect, hey, .
"What do you mean?"
"Why, the way you 've been going on to-night."
"Don't know, and don't care; it 's only Polly."
"That 's the very thing. She can't bear P."
"Well, I can; and I don't see why I should n't enjoy myself as wellas Trix."
"You 'll get to enjoying yourself too much if you are n't careful.Polly 's waked up."
"I 'm glad of it, and so 's Syd."
"I only spoke for your good."
"Don't trouble yourself about me; I get lecturing enough in anotherquarter and can't stand any more. Come, Polly."
She took the arm he offered her, but her heart was sore and angry,for that phrase, "It 's only Polly," hurt her sadly. "As if I was n'tanybody, had n't any feelings, and was only made to amuse orwork for people! Fan and Tom are both mistaken and I 'll showthem that Polly is awake," she thought, indignantly. "Why shouldn't I enjoy myself as well as the rest? Besides, it 's only Tom," sheadded with a bitter smile as she thought of Trix.
"Are you tired, Polly?" asked Tom, bending down to look into herface.
"Yes, of being nobody."
"Ah, but you ain't nobody, you 're Polly, and you could n't betterthat if you tried ever so hard." said Tom, warmly, for he really wasfond of Polly, and felt uncommonly so just then.
"I 'm glad you think so, anyway. It 's so pleasant to be liked." Andshe looked up with her face quite bright again.
"I always did like you, don't you know, ever since that first visit."
"But you teased me shamefully, for all that."
"So I did, but I don't now."
Polly did not answer, and Tom asked, with more anxiety than theoccasion required: "Do I, Polly?"
"Not in the same way, Tom," she answered in a tone that did n'tsound quite natural.
"Well, I never will again."
"Yes, you will, you can't help it." And Polly's eye glanced atSydney, who was in front with Fan.
Tom laughed, and drew Polly closer as the crowd pressed, saying,with mock tenderness: "Did n't she like to be chaffed about hersweethearts? Well, she shan't be if I can help it. Poor dear, did sheget her little bonnet knocked into a cocked hat and her littletemper riled at the same time?"
Polly could n't help laughing, and, in spite of the crush, enjoyed theslow journey from seat to carriage, for Tom took such excellentcare of her, she was rather sorry when it was over.
They had a merry little supper after they got home, and Polly gavethem a burlesque opera that convulsed her hearers, for her spiritsrose again and she was determined to get the last drop of funbefore she went back to her humdrum life again.
"I 've had a regularly splendid time, and thank you ever so much,"she said when the "good-nights" were being exchanged.
"So have I. Let 's go and do it again to-morrow," said Tom, holdingthe hand from which he had helped to pull a refractory glove.
"Not for a long while, please. Too much pleasure would soon spoilme," answered Polly, shaking her head.
"I don't believe it. Good-night, 'sweet Mistress Milton,' as Sydcalled you. Sleep like an angel, and don't dream of I forgot, noteasing allowed." And Tom took himself off with a theatricalfarewell.
"Now it 's all over and done with," thought Polly as she fell asleepafter a long vigil. But it was not, and Polly's fun cost more than theprice of gloves and bonnet, for, having nibbled at forbidden fruit,she had to pay the penalty. She only meant to have a good time,and there was no harm in that, but unfortunately she yielded to thevarious small temptations that beset pretty young girls and didmore mischief to others than to herself. Fanny's friendship grewcooler after that night. Tom kept wishing Trix was half assatisfactory as Polly, and Mr. Sydney began to build castles thathad no foundation.