stories by english authors in italy(旅意英国作家的故事)-第4节
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
fellow was in despair； he felt like a pariah； for he had been so occupied
with the tables that he had made no friends； and his few acquaintances
looked askance at him； as being under a cloud； with the precise nature of
which they were unacquainted。 Friendless and penniless in a foreign land；
his spirit was utterly broken； and he began to understand what a fool he
had made of himself； especially how ungratefully he had behaved to his
father； without whom it was not so easy to 〃get on；〃 it appeared； as he had
imagined。 He saw； too； the evil of his conduct in having thrust a
temptation in the way of honest John too great to be resisted。 The police
could hear no news of him； and； indeed； seemed very incredulous with
respect to Richard's account of the matter。
On the fourth day Richard received a letter from his father of the
gravest kind； though expressed in the most affectionate terms。 He hardly
alluded to the immediate misfortune that had happened to him； but spoke
of the anxiety and alarm which his conduct had caused his mother and
himself。 〃I enclose you a check；〃 he wrote； 〃just sufficient to comfortably
bring you home and pay your hotel bill； and exceedingly regret that I
cannot trust my son with morelest he should risk it in a way that gives
his mother and myself more distress of mind than I can express。〃
Richard's heart was touched； as it well might have been； though
perhaps the condition of mind in which his father's communication found
him had something to do with it。 By that night's mail he despatched a letter
home which gave the greatest delight at the Court； and also at the vicarage；
for Mr。 Luscombe； full of pride and joy； brought it to my father to read。 〃I
have been very foolish； sir； and very wicked；〃 it ran。 〃I believe I should
have been dead by this time had not Maitland stolen my money （so that I
have no reason to feel very angry with him） and deprived me of the means
of suicide。 I give you my word of honour that I will never gamble again。〃
Lady Jane sent a telegram to meet Master Richard in Paris； to say what
a dear good boy he was； and how happy he had made her。 This did not
surprise him； but what did astonish him very much on arriving at the Court
was that John Maitland opened the door for him。
〃Why； you old scoundrel！〃
12
… Page 13…
STORIES
〃Yes； sir； I know； I'm a thief and all that； but I did it for the best； I did；
indeed。〃
Though the fatted calf was killed for Master Richard； he had by no
means returned like the prodigal son。 On the contrary； he had sent home a
remittance； as it were； by the butler； of more than five thousand pounds。
The whole plot had been devised by honest John as the only method of
extricating Master Richard from that Monte Carlo spider's web； and had
been carried out by the help of the /maitre d'hotel/； with the squire's
approval。 And to do the young fellow justice； he never resented the trick
that had been played upon him。
Richard was not sent abroad again； but to Cambridge； where
eventually he took a fourth…class （poll） degree； and Lady Jane was as
proud of it as if he had been senior wrangler。 He kept his word； in spite of
all temptations to the contrary； and never touched a carda circumstance
which drove him to take a fair amount of exercise； and； in consequence； he
steadily improved in health。 He was sometimes chaffed by his companions
for his abstinence from play； they should have thought he was the last man
to be afraid of losing his money。
〃You are right； so far；〃 he would answer； drily； 〃but the fact is； I have
had enough of winning。〃
To which they would reply：
〃Oh yes； we dare say；〃 an elliptical expression； which conveyed
disbelief。
He never told them the story of his Monte Carlo experiences； but in
the vacations he would often talk to honest John about them。 We may be
sure that that faithful retainer did not go unrewarded for his fraudulent act。
13
… Page 14…
STORIES
BIANCA
BY W。 E。 NORRIS
Not long since； I was one among a crowd of nobodies at a big official
reception in Paris when the Marchese and Marchesa di San Silvestro were
announced。 There was a momentary hush； those about the doorway fell
back to let this distinguished couple pass； and some of us stood on tiptoe
to get a glimpse of them； for San Silvestro is a man of no small
importance in the political and diplomatic world； and his wife enjoys quite
a European fame for beauty and amiability； having had opportunities of
displaying both these attractive gifts at the several courts where she has
acted as Italian ambassadress。 They made their way quickly up the long
room；she short； rather sallow； inclined toward embonpoint； but with eyes
whose magnificence was rivalled only by that of her diamonds； he bald…
headed； fat； gray…haired； covered with orders；and were soon out of sight。
I followed them with a sigh which caused my neighbour to ask me
jocosely whether the marchesa was an old flame of mine。
〃Far from it；〃 I answered。 〃Only the sight of her reminded me of
bygone days。 Dear； dear me！ how time does slip on！ It is fifteen years
since I saw her last。〃
I moved away； looking down rather ruefully at the waistcoat to whose
circumference fifteen years have made no trifling addition； and wondering
whether I was really as much altered and aged in appearance as the
marchesa was。
Fifteen yearsit is no such very long time； and yet I dare say that the
persons principally concerned in the incident which I am about to relate
have given up thinking about it as completely as I had done； until the
sound of that lady's name； and the sight of her big black eyes； recalled it to
me； and set me thinking of the sunny spring afternoon on which my sister
Anne and I journeyed from Verona to Venice； and of her naive
exclamations of delight on finding herself in a real gondola； gliding
smoothly down the Grand Canal。 My sister Anne is by some years my
senior。 She is what might be called an old lady now； and she certainly was
an old maid then； and had long accepted her position as such。 Then； as
14
… Page 15…
STORIES
now； she habitually wore a gray alpaca gown； a pair of gold…rimmed
spectacles； gloves a couple of sizes too large for her； and a shapeless；
broad…leaved straw hat； from which a blue veil was flung back and
streamed out in the breeze behind her； like a ship's ensign。 Then； as now；
she was the simplest； the most kind…hearted； the most prejudiced of
mortals； an enthusiastic admirer of the arts； and given； as her own small
contribution thereto； to the production of endless water…colour landscapes；
a trifle woolly； indeed； as to outline； and somewhat faulty as to perspective；
but warm in colouring； and highly thought of in the family。 I believe； in
fact； that it was chiefly with a view to the filling of her portfolio that she
had persuaded me to take her to Venice； and； as I am constitutionally
indolent； I was willing enough to spend a few weeks in the city which； of
all cities in the world； is the best adapted for lazy people。 We engaged
rooms at Danielli's； and unpacked all our clothes； knowing that we were
not likely to make another move until the heat should drive us away。
The first few days； I remember； were not altogether full of enjoyment
for one of us。 My excellent Anne； who has all her brother's virtues；
without his failings； would have scouted the notion of allowing any dread
of physical fatigue to stand between her and the churches and pictures
which she had come all the way from England to admire； and； as Venice
was an old haunt of mine； she very excusably expected me
