旧式女孩 英文版 An Old-fashioned Girl
露意莎.梅.奥尔科特 Louisa May Alcott
CHAPTER V SCRAPES Page 2
That last sentence made Fanny shut the book, with a face full ofself-reproach; for she had said those words herself, in a fit ofpetulance, and Polly had made no answer, though her eyes filledand her cheeks burned. Fan opened her lips to say something, butnot a sound followed, for there stood Polly looking at them with anexpression they had never seen before.
"What are you doing with my things?" she demanded, in a lowtone, while her eyes kindled and her color changed.
"Maud showed us a book she found, and we were just looking atthe pictures," began Fanny, dropping it as if it burnt her fingers.
"And reading my journal, and laughing at my presents, and thenputting the blame on Maud. It 's the meanest thing I ever saw; and I'll never forgive you as long as I live!"
Polly said, this all in one indignant breath, and then as if afraid ofsaying too much, ran out of the room with such a look of mingledcontempt, grief, and anger, that the three culprits stood dumb withshame. Tom had n't even a whistle at his command; Maud was soscared at gentle Polly's outbreak, that she sat as still as a mouse;while Fanny, conscience stricken, laid back the poor little presentswith a respectful hand, for somehow the thought of Polly's povertycame over her as it never had done before; and these odds andends, so carefully treasured up for those at home, touched Fanny,and grew beautiful in her eyes. As she laid by the little book, theconfessions in it reproached her more sharply that any words Pollycould have spoken; for she had laughed at her friend, had slightedher sometimes, and been unforgiving for an innocent offence. Thatlast page, where Polly took the blame on herself, and promised to"truly try" to be more kind and patient, went to Fanny's heart,melting all the coldness away, and she could only lay her head onthe trunk, sobbing, "It was n't Polly's fault; it was all mine."
Tom, still red with shame at being caught in such a scrape, leftFanny to her tears, and went manfully away to find the injuredPolly, and confess his manifold transgressions. But Polly could n'tbe found. He searched high and low in every room, yet no sign ofthe girt appeared, and Tom began to get anxious. "She can't haverun away home, can she?" he said to himself, as he paused beforethe hat-tree. There was the little round hat, and Tom gave it aremorseful smooth, remembering how many times he had tweakedit half off, or poked it over poor Polly's eyes. "Maybe she 's gonedown to the office, to tell pa. 'T is n't a bit like her, though.Anyway, I 'll take a look round the corner."
Eager to get his boots, Tom pulled open the door of a dark closetunder the stairs, and nearly tumbled over backward with surprise;for there, on the floor, with her head pillowed on a pair of rubbers,lay Polly in an attitude of despair. This mournful spectacle sentTom's penitent speech straight out of his head, and with anastonished "Hullo!" he stood and stared in impressive silence.Polly was n't crying, and lay so still, that Tom began to think shemight be in a fit or a faint, and bent anxiously down to inspect thepathetic bunch. A glimpse of wet eyelashes, a round cheek redderthan usual, and lips parted by quick, breathing, relieved his mindupon that point; so, taking courage, he sat down on the boot-jack,and begged pardon like a man.
Now, Polly was very angry, and I think she had a right to be; butshe was not resentful, and after the first flash was over, she soonbegan to feel better about it. It was n't easy to forgive; but, as shelistened to Tom's honest voice, getting gruff with remorse now andthen, she could n't harden her heart against him, or refuse to makeup when he so frankly owned that it "was confounded mean to readher book that way." She liked his coming and begging pardon atonce; it was a handsome thing to do; she appreciated it, andforgave him in her heart some time before she did with her lips;for, to tell the truth, Polly had a spice of girlish malice, and ratherliked to see domineering Tom eat humble-pie, just enough to dohim good, you know. She felt that atonement was proper, andconsidered it no more than just that Fan should drench ahandkerchief or two with repentant tears, and that Tom should siton a very uncomfortable seat and call himself hard names for fiveor ten minutes before she relented.
"Come, now, do say a word to a fellow. I 'm getting the worst of it,anyway; for there 's Fan, crying her eyes out upstairs, and here areyou stowed away in a dark closet as dumb as a fish, and nobodybut me to bring you both round. I 'd have cut over to the Smythesand got ma home to fix things, only it looked like backing out ofthe scrape; so I did n't," said Tom, as a last appeal.
Polly was glad to hear that Fan was crying. It would do her good;but she could n't help softening to Tom, who did seem in apredicament between two weeping damsels. A little smile began todimple the cheek that was n't hidden, and then a hand came slowlyout from under the curly head, and was stretched toward himsilently. Tom was just going to give it a hearty shake, when he sawa red mark on the wrist, and knew what made it. His face changed,and he took the chubby hand so gently, that Polly peeped to seewhat it meant.
"Will you forgive that, too?" he asked, in a whisper, stroking thered wrist.
"I was a beast, that 's what I was!" said Tom, in a tone of greatdisgust. And just at that awkward minute down tumbled hisfather's old beaver over his head and face, putting a comicalquencher on his self-reproaches. Of course, neither could helplaughing at that; and when he emerged, Polly was sitting up,looking as much better for her shower as he did for his momentaryeclipse.
"Fan feels dreadfully. Will you kiss and be friends, if I trot herdown?" asked Tom, remembering his fellow-sinner.
"I 'll go to her." And Polly whisked out of the closet as suddenly asshe had whisked in, leaving Tom sitting on the boot-jack, with aradiant countenance.
And just at that awkward minute down tumbled hisfather's old beaver over his head and face, putting a.
How the girls made it up no one ever knew. But after much talkingand crying, kissing and laughing, the breach was healed, and peacedeclared. A slight haze still lingered in the air after the storm, forFanny was very humble and tender that evening; Tom a triflepensive, but distressingly polite, and Polly magnanimously friendlyto every one; for generous natures like to forgive, and Pollyenjoyed the petting after the insult, like a very human girl.
As she was brushing her hair at bedtime there came a tap on herdoor and, opening it, she beheld nothing but a tall black bottle,with a strip of red flannel tied round it like a cravat, and acocked-hat note on the cork. Inside were these lines, written in asprawling hand with very black ink:
DEAR POLLY, Opydilldock is first-rate for sprains. You put a loton the flannel and do up your wrist, and I guess it will be all rightin the morning. Will you come a sleigh-ride tomorrow? I 'm awfulsorry I hurt you.
TOM