旧式女孩 英文版 An Old-fashioned Girl
露意莎.梅.奥尔科特 Louisa May Alcott
CHAPTER XVII PLAYING GRANDMOTHER Page 2
"Do run! I 'm perfectly fainting to know what the matter is," saidFan.
"You 'd better go," began Polly, wishing to obey, yet feeling a littleshy.
"He don't want me; besides, I could n't say a word for myself if thatletter was from Sydney," cried Fanny, hustling her friend towardsthe door, in a great flutter.
Polly went without another word, but she wore a curiously anxiouslook, and stopped on the threshold of the den, as if a little afraid ofits occupant. Tom was sitting in his favorite attitude, astride of achair, with his arms folded and his chin on the top rail; not anelegant posture, but the only one in which, he said, he could thinkwell.
"Did you want me, Tom?"
"Yes. Come in, please, and don't look scared; I only want to showyou a present I 've had, and ask your advice about accepting it."
"Why, Tom, you look as if you had been knocked down!"exclaimed Polly, forgetting all about herself, as she saw his facewhen he rose and turned to meet her.
"I have; regularly floored; but I 'm up again, and steadier than ever.Just you read that, and tell me what you think of it."
Tom snatched a letter off the table, put it into her hands, and beganto walk up and down the little room, like a veritable bear in itscage. As Polly read that short note, all the color went out of herface, and her eyes began to kindle. When she came to the end, shestood a minute, as if too indignant to speak, then gave the paper anervous sort of crumple and dropped it on the floor, saying, all inone breath, "I think she is a mercenary, heartless, ungrateful girl!That 's what I think."
"Oh, the deuce! I did n't mean to show that one; it 's the other."And Tom took up a second paper, looking half angry, halfashamed at his own mistake. "I don't care, though; every one willknow to-morrow; and perhaps you 'll be good enough to keep thegirls from bothering me with questions and gabble," he added, asif, on second thoughts, he was relieved to have the communicationmade to Polly first.
"I don't wonder you looked upset. If the other letter is as bad, I 'dbetter have a chair before I read it," said Polly, feeling that shebegan to tremble with excitement.
"It 's a million times better, but it knocked me worse than theother; kindness always does." Tom stopped short there, and stood aminute turning the letter about in his hand as if it contained asweet which neutralized the bitter in that smaller note, and touchedhim very much. Then he drew up an armchair, and beckoningPolly to take it, said in a sober, steady tone, that surprised hergreatly, "Whenever I was in a quandary, I used to go and consultgrandma, and she always had something sensible or comfortable tosay to me. She 's gone now, but somehow, Polly, you seem to takeher place. Would you mind sitting in her chair, and letting me tellyou two or three things, as Will does?"
Mind it? Polly felt that Tom had paid her the highest and mostbeautiful compliment he could have devised. She had often longedto do it, for, being brought up in the most affectionate and frankrelations with her brothers, she had early learned what it takesmost women some time to discover, that sex does not make nearlyas much difference in hearts and souls as we fancy. Joy andsorrow, love and fear, life and death bring so many of the sameneeds to all, that the wonder is we do not understand each otherbetter, but wait till times of tribulation teach us that human natureis very much the same in men and women. Thanks to thisknowledge, Polly understood Tom in a way that surprised and wonhim. She knew that he wanted womanly sympathy, and that shecould give it to him, because she was not afraid to stretch her handacross the barrier which our artificial education puts between boysand girls, and to say to him in all good faith, "If I can help you, letme."
Ten minutes sooner Polly could have done this almost as easily toTom as to Will, but in that ten minutes something had happenedwhich made this difficult. Reading that Trix had given Tom backhis freedom changed many things to Polly, and caused her toshrink from his confidence, because she felt as if it would beharder now to keep self out of sight; for, spite of maiden modesty,love and hope would wake and sing at the good news. Slowly shesat down, and hesitatingly she said, with her eyes on the ground,and a very humble voice, "I 'll do my best, but I can't fillgrandma's place, or give you any wise, good advice. I wish Icould!"
"You 'll do it better than any one else. Talk troubles mother, fatherhas enough to think of without any of my worries. Fan is a goodsoul, but she is n't practical, and we always get into a snarl if wetry to work together, so who have I but my other sister, Polly? Thepleasure that letter will give you may make up for my boring you."
As he spoke, Tom laid the other paper in her lap, and went off tothe window, as if to leave her free to enjoy it unseen; but he couldnot help a glance now and then, and as Polly's face brightened, hisown fell.
"Oh, Tom, that 's a birthday present worth having, for it 's sobeautifully given I don't see how you can refuse it. Arthur Sydneyis a real nobleman!" cried Polly, looking up at last, with her factglowing, and her eyes full of delight.
"So he is! I don't know another man living, except father, whowould have done such a thing, or who I could bring myself to takeit from. Do you see, he 's not only paid the confounded debts, buthas done it in my name, to spare me all he could?"
"I see, it 's like him; and I think he must be very happy to be ableto do such a thing."
girls about Trixand Sydney?" she asked!
"It is an immense weight off my shoulders, for some of those mencould n't afford to wait till I 'd begged, borrowed, or earned themoney. Sydney can wait, but he won't long, if I know myself.""You won't take it as a gift, then?"
"Would you?"
"No."
"Then don't think I will. I 'm a pretty poor affair, Polly, but I 'm notmean enough to do that, while I 've got a conscience and a pair ofhands."
A rough speech, but it pleased Polly better than the smoothest Tomhad ever made in her hearing, for something in his face and voicetold her that the friendly act had roused a nobler sentiment thangratitude, making the cancelled obligations of the boy, debts ofhonor to the man.
"What will you do, Tom?"
"I 'll tell you; may I sit here?" And Tom took the low footstool thatalways stood near grandma's old chair. "I 've had so many plans inmy head lately, that sometimes it seems as if it would split,"continued the poor fellow, rubbing his tired forehead, as if topolish up his wits. "I 've thought seriously of going to California,Australia, or some out-of-the-way place, where men get rich in ahurry."
"Oh, no!" cried Polly, putting out her hand as it to keep him, andthen snatching it back again before he could turn round.
"It would be hard on mother and the girls, I suppose; besides, Idon't quite like it myself; looks as if I shirked and ran away."
"So it does," said Polly, decidedly.
"Well, you see I don't seem to find anything to do unless I turnclerk, and I don't think that would suit. The fact is, I could n't standit here, where I 'm known. It would be easier to scratch gravel on arailroad, with a gang of Paddies, than to sell pins to my friends andneighbors. False pride, I dare say, but it 's the truth, and there 's nouse in dodging."
"Not a bit, and I quite agree with you."
"That 's comfortable. Now I 'm coming to the point where Ispecially want your advice, Polly. Yesterday I heard you tellingFan about your brother Ned; how well he got on; how he liked hisbusiness, and wanted Will to come and take some place near him.You thought I was reading, but I heard; and it struck me thatperhaps I could get a chance out West somewhere. What do youthink?"
"If you really mean work, I know you could," answered Polly,quickly, as all sorts of plans and projects went sweeping throughher mind. "I wish you could be with Ned; you 'd get on together, I'm sure; and he 'd be so glad to do anything he could. I 'll write andask, straight away, if you want me to."
"Suppose you do; just for information, you know, then I shall havesomething to go upon. I want to have a feasible plan all ready,before I speak to father. There 's nothing so convincing to businessmen as facts, you know."
Polly could not help smiling at Tom's new tone, it seemed sostrange to hear him talking about anything but horses and tailors,dancing and girls. She liked it, however, as much as she did thesober expression of his face, and the way he had lately of swinginghis arms about, as if he wanted to do something energetic withthem.
"That will be wise. Do you think your father will like this plan?"
"Pretty sure be will. Yesterday, when I told him I must go atsomething right off, he said, 'Anything honest, Tom, and don'tforget that your father began the world as a shop-boy.' You knewthat, did n't you?"
"Yes, he told me the story once, and I always liked to hear it,because it was pleasant to see how well he had succeeded."
"I never did like the story, a little bit ashamed, I 'm afraid; butwhen we talked it over last night, it struck me in a new light, and Iunderstood why father took the failure so well, and seems socontented with this poorish place. It is only beginning again, hesays; and having worked his way up once, he feels as if he couldagain. I declare to you, Polly, that sort of confidence in himself,and energy and courage in a man of his years, makes me love andrespect the dear old gentleman as I never did before."
"I 'm so glad to hear you say that, Tom! I 've sometimes thoughtyou did n't quite appreciate your father, any more than he knewhow much of a man you were."
"Never was till to-day, you know," said Tom, laughing, yet lookingas if he felt the dignity of his one and twenty years. "Odd, is n't it,how people live together ever so long, and don't seem to find oneanother out, till something comes to do it for them. Perhaps thissmash-up was sent to introduce me to my own father."
"There 's philosophy for you," said Polly, smiling, even while shefelt as if adversity was going to do more for Tom than years ofprosperity.
They both sat quiet for a minute, Polly in the big chair looking athim with a new respect in her eyes, Tom on the stool near byslowly tearing up a folded paper he had absently taken from thefloor while he talked.
"No."
"Well, it did me; for you know as soon as we came to grief Ioffered to release Trix from the engagement, and she would n't letme," continued Tom, as if, having begun the subject, he wished toexplain it thoroughly.
"That surprised me," said Polly.
"So it did me, for Fan always insisted it was the money and not theman she cared for. Her first answer pleased me very much, for Idid not expect it, and nothing touches a fellow more than to have awoman stand by him through thick and thin."
"She don't seem to have done it."
"Fan was right. Trix only waited to see how bad things really were,or rather her mother did. She 's as cool, hard, and worldly mindedan old soul as I ever saw, and Trix is bound to obey. She getsround it very neatly in her note, 'I won't be a burden,' 'will sacrificeher hopes,' 'and always remain my warm friend,' but the truth is,Tom Shaw rich was worth making much of, but Tom Shaw poor isin the way, and may go to the devil as fast as he likes."
"Well, he is n't going!" cried Polly, defiantly, for her wrath burnedhotly against Trix, though she blessed her for setting the bondmanfree.
"Came within an ace of it," muttered Tom to himself; addingaloud, in a tone of calm resignation that assured Polly his heartwould not be broken though his engagement was, "It never rainsbut it pours, 'specially in hard times, but when a man is down, arap or two more don't matter much, I suppose. It 's the first blowthat hurts most."
"Glad to see you take the last blow so well." There was an ironicallittle twang to that speech, and Polly could n't help it. Tom coloredup and looked hurt for a minute, then seemed to right himself witha shrug, and said, in his outspoken way, "To tell the honest truth,Polly, it was not a very hard one. I 've had a feeling for some timethat Trix and I were not suited to one another, and it might bewiser to stop short. But she did not or would not see it; and I wasnot going to back out, and leave her to wear any more willows, sohere we are. I don't bear malice, but hope she 'll do better, and notbe disappointed again, upon my word I do."
"That 's very good of you, quite Sydneyesque, and noble," saidPolly, feeling rather ill at ease, and wishing she could hide herselfbehind a cap and spectacles, if she was to play Grandma to thisconfiding youth.
"It will be all plain sailing for Syd, I fancy," observed Tom, gettingup as if the little cricket suddenly ceased to be comfortable.
"I hope so," murmured Polly, wondering what was coming next.
"He deserves the very best of everything, and I pray the Lord hemay get it," added Tom, poking the fire in a destructive manner.
Polly made no answer, fearing to pay too much, for she knew Fanhad made no confidant of Tom, and she guarded her friend's secretas jealously as her own. "You 'll write to Ned to-morrow, willyou? I 'll take anything he 's got, for I want to be off," said Tom,casting down the poker, and turning round with a resolute airwhich was lost on Polly, who sat twirling the rose that had falleninto her lap.
"I 'll write to-night. Would you like me to tell the girls about Trixand Sydney?" she asked as she rose, feeling that the council wasover.
"I wish you would. I don't know how to thank you for all you 'vedone for me; I wish to heaven I did," said Tom, holding out hishand with a look that Polly thought a great deal too grateful for thelittle she had done.
As she gave him her hand, and looked up at him with thoseconfiding eyes of hers, Tom's gratitude seemed to fly to his head,for, without the slightest warning, he stooped down and kissed her,a proceeding which startled Polly so that he recovered himself atonce, and retreated into his den with the incoherent apology, "Ibeg pardon could n't help it grandma always let me on mybirthday."
While Polly took refuge up stairs, forgetting all about Fan, as shesat in the dark with her face hidden, wondering why she was n'tvery angry, and resolving never again to indulge in the delightfulbut dangerous pastime of playing grandmother.