an episode of fiddletown-第2章

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foremost　files　had　been　displaced　to　give　freedom　to　the　fenced

enclosure　in　which　it　sat。　　In　the　vivid　sunlight　and　perfect

silence；　it　had　a　new；　uninhabited　look；　as　if　the　carpenters　and

painters　had　just　left　it。　　At　the　farther　end　of　the　lot；　a

Chinaman　was　stolidly　digging；　but　there　was　no　other　sign　of

occupancy。　　〃The　coast；〃　as　the　colonel　had　said；　was　indeed

〃clear。〃　　Mrs。　Tretherick　paused　at　the　gate。　　The　colonel　would

have　entered　with　her；　but　was　stopped　by　a　gesture。　　〃Come　for　me

in　a　couple　of　hours；　and　I　shall　have　everything　packed；〃　she

said；　as　she　smiled；　and　extended　her　hand。　　The　colonel　seized　and

pressed　it　with　great　fervor。　　Perhaps　the　pressure　was　slightly

returned；　for　the　gallant　colonel　was　impelled　to　inflate　his

chest；　and　trip　away　as　smartly　as　his　stubby…toed；　high…heeled

boots　would　permit。　　When　he　had　gone；　Mrs。　Tretherick　opened　the

door；　listened　a　moment　in　the　deserted　hall；　and　then　ran　quickly

upstairs　to　what　had　been　her　bedroom。



Everything　there　was　unchanged　as　on　the　night　she　left　it。　　On　the

dressing…table　stood　her　bandbox；　as　she　remembered　to　have　left　it

when　she　took　out　her　bonnet。　　On　the　mantle　lay　the　other　glove

she　had　forgotten　in　her　flight。　　The　two　lower　drawers　of　the

bureau　were　half…open　（she　had　forgotten　to　shut　them）；　and　on　its

marble　top　lay　her　shawl　pin　and　a　soiled　cuff。　　What　other

recollections　came　upon　her　I　know　not；　but　she　suddenly　grew　quite

white；　shivered；　and　listened　with　a　beating　heart；　and　her　hand

upon　the　door。　　Then　she　stepped　to　the　mirror；　and　half…fearfully；

half…curiously；　parted　with　her　fingers　the　braids　of　her　blond

hair　above　her　little　pink　ear；　until　she　came　upon　an　ugly；　half…

healed　scar。　　She　gazed　at　this；　moving　her　pretty　head　up　and　down

to　get　a　better　light　upon　it；　until　the　slight　cast　in　her　velvety

eyes　became　very　strongly　marked　indeed。　　Then　she　turned　away　with

a　light；　reckless；　foolish　laugh；　and　ran　to　the　closet　where　hung

her　precious　dresses。　　These　she　inspected　nervously；　and　missing

suddenly　a　favorite　black　silk　from　its　accustomed　peg；　for　a

moment；　thought　she　should　have　fainted。　　But　discovering　it　the

next　instant　lying　upon　a　trunk　where　she　had　thrown　it；　a　feeling

of　thankfulness　to　a　superior　Being　who　protects　the　friendless　for

the　first　time　sincerely　thrilled　her。　　Then；　albeit　she　was

hurried　for　time；　she　could　not　resist　trying　the　effect　of　a

certain　lavender　neck　ribbon　upon　the　dress　she　was　then　wearing；

before　the　mirror。　　And　then　suddenly　she　became　aware　of　a　child's

voice　close　beside　her；　and　she　stopped。　　And　then　the　child's

voice　repeated；　〃Is　it　Mamma？〃



Mrs。　Tretherick　faced　quickly　about。　　Standing　in　the　doorway　was　a

little　girl　of　six　or　seven。　　Her　dress　had　been　originally　fine；

but　was　torn　and　dirty；　and　her　hair；　which　was　a　very　violent　red；

was　tumbled　seriocomically　about　her　forehead。　　For　all　this；　she

was　a　picturesque　little　thing；　even　through　whose　childish

timidity　there　was　a　certain　self…sustained　air　which　is　apt　to

come　upon　children　who　are　left　much　to　themselves。　　She　was

holding　under　her　arm　a　rag　doll；　apparently　of　her　own

workmanship；　and　nearly　as　large　as　herselfa　doll　with　a

cylindrical　head；　and　features　roughly　indicated　with　charcoal。　　A

long　shawl；　evidently　belonging　to　a　grown　person；　dropped　from　her

shoulders　and　swept　the　floor。



The　spectacle　did　not　excite　Mrs。　Tretherick's　delight。　　Perhaps

she　had　but　a　small　sense　of　humor。　　Certainly；　when　the　child；

still　standing　in　the　doorway；　again　asked；　〃Is　it　Mamma？〃　she

answered　sharply；　〃No；　it　isn't；〃　and　turned　a　severe　look　upon　the

intruder。



The　child　retreated　a　step；　and　then；　gaining　courage　with　the

distance；　said　in　deliciously　imperfect　speech：



〃Dow　'way　then！　why　don't　you　dow　away？〃



But　Mrs。　Tretherick　was　eying　the　shawl。　　Suddenly　she　whipped　it

off　the　child's　shoulders；　and　said　angrily：



〃How　dared　you　take　my　things；　you　bad　child？〃



〃Is　it　yours？　　Then　you　are　my　mamma；　ain't　you？　　You　are　Mamma！〃

she　continued　gleefully；　and　before　Mrs。　Tretherick　could　avoid

her；　she　had　dropped　her　doll；　and；　catching　the　woman's　skirts

with　both　hands；　was　dancing　up　and　down　before　her。



〃What's　your　name；　child？〃　said　Mrs。　Tretherick　coldly；　removing

the　small　and　not　very　white　hands　from　her　garments。



〃Tarry。〃



〃Tarry？〃



〃Yeth。　　Tarry。　　Tarowline。〃



〃Caroline？〃



〃Yeth。　　Tarowline　Tretherick。〃



〃Whose　child　ARE　you？〃　demanded　Mrs。　Tretherick　still　more　coldly；

to　keep　down　a　rising　fear。



〃Why；　yours；〃　said　the　little　creature　with　a　laugh。　　〃I'm　your

little　durl。　　You're　my　mamma；　my　new　mamma。　　Don't　you　know　my　ol'

mamma's　dorn　away；　never　to　turn　back　any　more？　　I　don't　live　wid

my　ol'　mamma　now。　　I　live　wid　you　and　Papa。〃



〃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　monstro