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第52章

the fortunes of oliver horn-第52章

小说: the fortunes of oliver horn 字数: 每页4000字

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r them to pass in。

Silas Grant watched the young fellows until they disappeared inside the door; lifted himself slowly from his seat by his long arms; stretched himself; with a yawn; to his full height; and said aloud to himself as he pushed his chair back against the wall:

〃His father's got a negro for body…servant; has he; and a negro for butlerjust like 'em。 They all want somebody to wait on 'em。〃

At dinner Oliver sat on Mrs。 Grant's righther best ear; she saidMargaret next; and John opposite。 The father was at the foot; in charge of the carving… knife。

During the pauses in the talk Oliver's eyes wandered  around the room; falling on the queer paper lining the wallshunting…scenes; with red…coated fox…hunters leaping five…barred gates; on the side… board covered with silver; but bare of a decanter only a pitcher filled with cider which Hopeful Prime; the servant; a woman of forty in spectacles; and who took part in the conversation; brought from the cellar;  and finally on a family portrait that hung above the fireplace。 A portrait was always a loadstone to Oliver。

Mrs。 Grant had been watching his glance。

〃That's Mr。 Grant's great…uncleold Governor Shaw;〃 she said; with a pleased smile; 〃and the next one to it is Margaret's great…grandmother This one〃 and she turned partly in her chair and pointed to a face Oliver thought he had seen before; where; he couldn't remember〃is John Quincy Adams。 He was my father's most intimate friend;〃 and a triumphant expression overspread her face。

Oliver smiled; too; inwardly; to himself。 The talk; to his great surprise; reminded him of Kennedy  Square。 Family portraits were an inexhaustible  topic of conversation in most of its homes。 He had never thought before that people at the North had any ancestorsnone they were very proud of。

John looked up and winked。 〃Great scheme naming me after his Royal Highness;〃 he said; in an undertone。 〃Sure road to the White House; they thought I'd make a good third。〃

Mrs。 Grant went on; not having heard a word of John's aside: 〃This table you're eating from; once belonged to Mr。 Adams。 He gave it to my father; who often spent a week at a time with him in the White House。〃

〃And I wish he was there now;〃 interrupted Silas from the foot of the table。 〃He'd straighten out this snarl we're drifting into。 Looks to me as if there would be some powder burnt before this thing is over。 What do your people say about it?〃 and he nodded at Oliver。 He had served the turkey; and was now sharpening the carver for the boiled ham; trying the edge with his thumb; as Shylock did。

〃I haven't been at home for some time; sir;〃 replied  Oliver; in a courteous tonehe intended to be polite to the end〃and so I cannot say。 My father's  letters; seem to be very anxious; but mother doesn't think there'll be any trouble; at least she said so in her last letter。〃

Silas looked up from under the tufts of cotton… wool。 Were the mothers running the politics of the South; he wondered?

〃And there's another thing you folks might as well remember。 We're not going to let you break up the Union; and we're not going to pay you for your slaves; either;〃 and he plunged the fork into the ham that the spectacled waitress had laid before him and rose in his chair; the knife poised in his hand to carve it the better。

〃Mr。 Horn hasn't got any slaves to sell; father didn't you hear him say so? His father freed his;〃 laughed Margaret。 Her father's positiveness never really worried her。 She rather liked it at times。 It was only because she had read in Oliver's face the impression her father was making upon him that she essayed to soften the force of his remarks。

〃I heard him; Margaret; I heard him。 Glad of itbut he's the only man from his parts that I ever heard who did。 The others won't give 'em up so easy。 They hung John Brown for trying to help the negroes free themselves; don't forget that。〃 Oliver looked up and knitted his brows。 Silas saw it。 〃I'm not meaning any offence to you; young man;〃 he said quickly; waving the knife toward Oliver。 〃I'm taking this question on broad grounds。 If I had my way I'd teach those slave…drivers〃 and he buried the knife in the yielding ham; 〃that〃

〃They did just right to hang him;〃 interrupted John。 〃Brown was a fanatic; and ought to have stayed at home。 No one is stronger than the law。 That's where old Ossawatomie Brown made a mistake。〃  Everybody was entitled to express his or her opinion in this house except the dear old mother。 Margaret's fearless independence of manner and thought had been nurtured in fertile soil。

Mrs。 Grant had been vainly trying to get the drift of the conversation; her hand behind her ear。

〃Parson Brown; did you say; John? He married  us; sir;〃 and she turned to Oliver。 〃He lived here over forty years。 The church that you passed was where he preached。〃

John laughed; and so did Silas; at the old lady's mistake; but Oliver only became the more attentive to his hostess。 He was profoundly grateful to the reverend gentleman for coming out of his grave at this opportune moment and diverting the talk into other channels。 Why did they want to bother him with all this talk about slavery and the South; when he was so happy he could hardly stay in his skin? It set his teeth on edgehe wished that the dinner were over and everybody down at the bottom of the sea but Margaret; he had come to see his sweetheart not to talk slavery。

〃Yes; I saw the church;〃 and for the rest of the dinner; Oliver was entertained with the details in the life of the Rev。 Leonidas Brown; including his manner  of preaching; the crowds who would go to hear him; the number converted under the good man's ministrations; to all of which Oliver listened with a closeness of attention that would have surprised those who knew him unless they had discovered that his elbow had found Margaret's during the recital; and that the biography of every member of Brown's  congregation might have been added to that of the  beloved pastor without wearying him in the slightest degree。

When the nuts were servedSilas broke his with his fingershis host made one more effort to draw Oliver into a discussion; but Margaret stopped it by exclaiming; suddenly:

〃Where shall Mr。 Horn smoke; mother?〃 She wanted Oliver to herselfthe family had had him long enough。

〃Why; does he want to SMOKE?〃 she answered; with some consternation。

〃Yes; of course he does。 All painters smoke。〃

〃Well; I don't know; let me see。〃 The old lady hesitated as if seeking the choice between two evils。 〃I suppose in the sitting…room。 Nothe library would be better。〃

〃Oh; I won't smoke at all if your mother does not like it;〃 Oliver protested; springing from his chair。

〃Oh; yes; you will;〃 interrupted John。 〃I never smoke; and father don't; but I know how good a pipe tastes。 Let's go into the library。〃

Margaret gave Oliver the big chair and sat beside him。 It was a small room; the walls almost hidden with books; the windows filled with flowering plants。 There was a long table piled up with magazines and pamphlets; and an open fireplace; the wall above the mantel covered with framed pictures of weeping… willows worked out with hair of dead relatives; and the mantel itself with faded daguerreotypes propped apart like half…opened clam…shells。

Mr。 Grant on leaving the dining…room walked slowly to the window without looking to the right or left; dropped into a chair and gazed out through the leaves of a geranium。 The meal was over。 Now he wanted rest and quiet。 When Mrs。 Grant entered the library and saw the wavy lines of tobacco… smoke that were drifting lazily about the room she stopped; evidently annoyed and uneasy。 No such sacrilege of her library had taken place for years; not since her Uncle Reuben had come home from China。 The waves of smoke must have caught the expression on her face; for she had hardly reached Oliver's chair before they began stealing along the ceiling in long; slanting lines until they reached the doorway; when with a sudden swoop; as if frightened;  and without once looking back; they escaped into the hall。

The dear lady laid her hand on Oliver's shoulder; bent over him in a tender; motherly way; and said:

〃Do you think it does you any good?〃

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