an episode of fiddletown-第3章

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〃How　long　have　you　been　here？〃　asked　Mrs。　Tretherick　snappishly。



〃I　fink　it's　free　days；〃　said　Carry　reflectively。



〃You　think！　　Don't　you　know？〃　sneered　Mrs。　Tretherick。　　〃Then；

where　did　you　come　from？〃



Carry's　lip　began　to　work　under　this　sharp　cross…examination。　　With

a　great　effort　and　a　small　gulp；　she　got　the　better　of　it；　and

answered：



〃Papa；　Papa　fetched　mefrom　Miss　Simmonsfrom　Sacramento；　last

week。〃



〃Last　week！　　You　said　three　days　just　now；〃　returned　Mrs。

Tretherick　with　severe　deliberation。



〃I　mean　a　monf；〃　said　Carry；　now　utterly　adrift　in　sheer

helplessness　and　confusion。



〃Do　you　know　what　you　are　talking　about？〃　demanded　Mrs。　Tretherick

shrilly；　restraining　an　impulse　to　shake　the　little　figure　before

her　and　precipitate　the　truth　by　specific　gravity。



But　the　flaming　red　head　here　suddenly　disappeared　in　the　folds　of

Mrs。　Tretherick's　dress；　as　if　it　were　trying　to　extinguish　itself

forever。



〃There　nowstop　that　sniffling；〃　said　Mrs。　Tretherick；　extricating

her　dress　from　the　moist　embraces　of　the　child　and　feeling

exceedingly　uncomfortable。　　〃Wipe　your　face　now；　and　run　away；　and

don't　bother。　　Stop；〃　she　continued；　as　Carry　moved　away。　　〃Where's

your　papa？〃



〃He's　dorn　away　too。　　He's　sick。　　He's　been　dorn〃she　hesitated

〃two；　free；　days。〃



〃Who　takes　care　of　you；　child？〃　said　Mrs。　Tretherick；　eying　her

curiously。



〃John；　the　Chinaman。　　I　tresses　myselth。　　John　tooks　and　makes　the

beds。〃



〃Well；　now；　run　away　and　behave　yourself；　and　don't　bother　me　any

more；〃　said　Mrs。　Tretherick；　remembering　the　object　of　her　visit。

〃Stopwhere　are　you　going？〃　she　added　as　the　child　began　to　ascend

the　stairs；　dragging　the　long　doll　after　her　by　one　helpless　leg。



〃Doin'　upstairs　to　play　and　be　dood；　and　no　bother　Mamma。〃



〃I　ain't　your　mamma；〃　shouted　Mrs。　Tretherick；　and　then　she　swiftly

re…entered　her　bedroom　and　slammed　the　door。



Once　inside；　she　drew　forth　a　large　trunk　from　the　closet　and　set

to　work　with　querulous　and　fretful　haste　to　pack　her　wardrobe。　　She

tore　her　best　dress　in　taking　it　from　the　hook　on　which　it　hung：

she　scratched　her　soft　hands　twice　with　an　ambushed　pin。　　All　the

while；　she　kept　up　an　indignant　commentary　on　the　events　of　the

past　few　moments。　　She　said　to　herself　she　saw　it　all。　　Tretherick

had　sent　for　this　child　of　his　first　wifethis　child　of　whose

existence　he　had　never　seemed　to　carejust　to　insult　her；　to　fill

her　place。　　Doubtless　the　first　wife　herself　would　follow　soon；　or

perhaps　there　would　be　a　third。　　Red　hair；　not　auburn；　but　REDof

course　the　child；　this　Caroline；　looked　like　its　mother；　and；　if

so；　she　was　anything　but　pretty。　　Or　the　whole　thing　had　been

prepared：　this　red…haired　child；　the　image　of　its　mother；　had　been

kept　at　a　convenient　distance　at　Sacramento；　ready　to　be　sent　for

when　needed。　　She　remembered　his　occasional　visits　there　on

business；　as　he　said。　　Perhaps　the　mother　already　was　there；　but

no；　she　had　gone　East。　　Nevertheless；　Mrs。　Tretherick；　in　her　then

state　of　mind；　preferred　to　dwell　upon　the　fact　that　she　might　be

there。　　She　was　dimly　conscious；　also；　of　a　certain　satisfaction　in

exaggerating　her　feelings。　　Surely　no　woman　had　ever　been　so

shamefully　abused。　　In　fancy；　she　sketched　a　picture　of　herself

sitting　alone　and　deserted；　at　sunset；　among　the　fallen　columns　of

a　ruined　temple；　in　a　melancholy　yet　graceful　attitude；　while　her

husband　drove　rapidly　away　in　a　luxurious　coach…and…four；　with　a

red…haired　woman　at　his　side。　　Sitting　upon　the　trunk　she　had　just

packed；　she　partly　composed　a　lugubrious　poem　describing　her

sufferings　as；　wandering　alone　and　poorly　clad；　she　came　upon　her

husband　and　〃another〃　flaunting　in　silks　and　diamonds。　　She

pictured　herself　dying　of　consumption；　brought　on　by　sorrowa

beautiful　wreck；　yet　still　fascinating；　gazed　upon　adoringly　by　the

editor　of　the　AVALANCHE　and　Colonel　Starbottle。　　And　where　was

Colonel　Starbottle　all　this　while？　　Why　didn't　he　come？　　He；　at

least；　understood　her。　　Heshe　laughed　the　reckless；　light　laugh

of　a　few　moments　before；　and　then　her　face　suddenly　grew　grave；　as

it　had　not　a　few　moments　before。



What　was　that　little　red…haired　imp　doing　all　this　time？　　Why　was

she　so　quiet？　　She　opened　the　door　noiselessly；　and　listened。　　She

fancied　that　she　heard；　above　the　multitudinous　small　noises　and

creakings　and　warpings　of　the　vacant　house；　a　smaller　voice　singing

on　the　floor　above。　　This；　as　she　remembered；　was　only　an　open

attic　that　had　been　used　as　a　storeroom。　　With　a　half…guilty

consciousness；　she　crept　softly　upstairs　and；　pushing　the　door

partly　open；　looked　within。



Athwart　the　long；　low…studded　attic；　a　slant　sunbeam　from　a　single

small　window　lay；　filled　with　dancing　motes；　and　only　half

illuminating　the　barren；　dreary　apartment。　　In　the　ray　of　this

sunbeam　she　saw　the　child's　glowing　hair；　as　if　crowned　by　a　red

aureole；　as　she　sat　upon　the　floor　with　her　exaggerated　doll

between　her　knees。　　She　appeared　to　be　talking　to　it；　and　it　was

not　long　before　Mrs。　Tretherick　observed　that　she　was　rehearsing

the　interview　of　a　half…hour　before。　　She　catechized　the　doll

severely；　cross…examining　it　in　regard　to　the　duration　of　its　stay

there；　and　generally　on　the　measure　of　time。　　The　imitation　of　Mrs。

Tretherick's　manner　was　exceedingly　successful；　and　the

conversation　almost　a　literal　reproduction；　with　a　single

exception。　　After　she　had　informed　the　doll　that　she　was　not　her

mother；　at　the　close　of　the　interview　she　added　pathetically；　〃that

if　she　was　dood；　very　dood；　she　might　be　her　mamma；　and　love　her

very　much。〃



I　have　already　hinted　that　Mrs。　Tretherick　was　deficient　in　a　sense

of　humor。　　Perhaps　it　was　for　this　reason　that　this　whole　scene

affected　her　most　unpleasantly；　and　the　conclusion　sent　the　blood

tingling　to　her　cheek。　　There　was　something；　too；　inconceivably

lonely　in　the　situation。　　The　unfurnished　vacant　room；　the　half…

lights；　the　monstrous　doll；　whose　very　size　seemed　to　give　a

pathetic　significance　to　its　speechlessness；　the　smallness　of　the

one　animate；　self…centered　figureall　these　touched　more　or　less

deeply　the　half…poetic　sensibilities　of　the　woman。　　She　could　not

help　utilizing　the　impression　as　she　stood　there；　and　thought　what

a　fine　poem　might　be　constructed　from　this　material　if　the　room

were　a　little　darker；　the　child　loneliersay；　sitting　beside　a

dead　mother's　bier；　and　the　wind　wailing　in　the　turrets。　　And　then

she　suddenly　heard　footsteps　at　the　door　below；　and　recognized　the

tread　of　the　colonel's　cane。



She　flew　swiftly　down　the　stairs；　and　encountered　the　colonel　in

the　hall。　　Here　she　poured　into　his　astonished　ear　a　voluble　and

exaggerated　statement　of　her　discovery；　and　indignant　recital　of

her　wrongs。　　〃Don't　tell　me　the　whole　thing　wasn't　arranged

beforehand；　for　I　know　it　was！〃　she　almost　screamed。　　〃And　think；〃

she　added；　〃of　the　heartlessness　of　the　wretch；　leaving　his　own

child　alone　here　in　that　way。〃



〃It's　a　blank　shame！〃　stammered　the　colonel；　without　the　least　idea

of　what　he　was　talking　about。　　In　fact；　utterly　unable　as　he　was　to

comprehend　a　reason　for　the　woman's　excitement；　with　his　estimate

of　her　character；　I　fear　he　showed　it　more　plainly　than　he

intended。　　He　stammered；　expanded　his　chest；　looked　stern；　gallant；

tender；　but　all　unintelligently。　　Mrs。　Tretherick；　for　an　instant；

experienced　a　sickening　doubt　of　the　existence　of　natures　in

perfect　affinity。



〃It's　of　no　use；〃　said　Mrs。　Tretherick　with　sudden　vehemence；　in

answer　to　some　inaudible　remark　of　the　colonel's；　and　withdrawing

her　hand　from　the　fervent　grasp　of　that　ardent　and　sympathetic　man。

〃It's　of　no　use：　my　mind　is　made　up。　　You　can　send　for　my　trunk　as

soon　as　you　like；　but　I　shall　stay　here；　and　confront　that　man　with

the　proof　of　his　vileness。　　I　will　put　him　face　to　face　with　his

infamy。〃



I　do　not　kno