That night at supper, Scarlett went through the motions of presiding over the table in her mother's absence, but her mind was in a ferment over the dreadful news she had heard about Ashley and Melanie. Desperately she longed for her mother's return from the Slatterys', for, without her, she felt lost and alone. What right had the Slatterys and their everlasting sickness to take Ellen away from home just at this time when she, Scarlett, needed her so much?
Throughout the dismal meal, Gerald's booming voice battered against her ears until she thought she could endure it no longer. He had forgotten completely about his conversation with her that afternoon and was carrying on a monologue about the latest news from Fort Sumter, which he punctuated by hammering his fist on the table and waving his arms in the air. Gerald made a habit of dominating the conversation at mealtimes, and usually Scarlett, occupied with her own thoughts, scarcely heard him; but tonight she could not shut out his voice, no matter how much she strained to listen for the sound of carriage wheels that would herald Ellen's return.
Of course, she did not intend to tell her mother what was so heavy on her heart, for Ellen would be shocked and grieved to know that a daughter of hers wanted a man who was engaged to another girl. But, in the depths of the first tragedy she had ever known, she wanted the very comfort of her mother's presence. She always felt secure when Ellen was by her, for there was nothing so bad that Ellen could not better it, simply by being there.
She rose suddenly from her chair at the sound of creaking wheels in the driveway and then sank down again as they went on around the house to the back yard. It could not be Ellen, for she would alight at the front steps. Then there was an excited babble of negro voices in the darkness of the yard and high-pitched negro laughter. Looking out the window, Scarlett saw Pork, who had left the room a moment before, holding high a flaring pine knot, while indistinguishable figures descended from a wagon.
The laughter and talking rose and fell in the dark night air, pleasant, homely, carefree sounds, gutturally soft, musically shrill. Then feet shuffled up the back-porch stairs and into the passageway leading to the main house, stopping in the hall just outside the dining room. There was a brief interval of whispering, and Pork entered, his usual dignity gone, his eyes rolling and his teeth a-gleam.
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6
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“杰拉尔德先生,”他气喘吁吁地喊道,满脸焕发着新郎的喜气,”您新买的那个女人到了。”
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6
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"Mist' Gerald," he announced, breathing hard, the pride of a bridegroom all over his shining face, "you' new 'oman done come."
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7
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“新买的女人?我可不曾买过女人呀!”杰拉尔德声明,装出一副瞠目结舌的模样。
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7
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"New woman? I didn't buy any new woman," declared Gerald, pretending to glare.
"Well, bring in the bride," said Gerald, and Pork, turning, beckoned into the hall to his wife, newly arrived from the Wilkes plantation to become part of the household of Tara. She entered, and behind her, almost hidden by her voluminous calico skirts, came her twelve-year-old daughter, squirming against her mother's legs.
Dilcey was tall and bore herself erectly. She might have been any age from thirty to sixty, so unlined was her immobile bronze face. Indian blood was plain in her features, overbalancing the negroid characteristics. The red color of her skin, narrow high forehead, prominent cheek bones and the hawk-bridged nose which flattened at the end above thick negro lips, all showed the mixture of two races. She was self-possessed and walked with a dignity that surpassed even Mammy's, for Mammy had acquired her dignity and Dilcey's was in her blood.
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11
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她说话的声音不像大多数黑人那样含糊不清,而且更注意选择字眼。
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11
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When she spoke, her voice was not so slurred as most negroes' and she chose her words more carefully.
"Good evenin', young Misses. Mist' Gerald, I is sorry to 'sturb you, but I wanted to come here and thank you agin fo' buyin' me and my chile. Lots of gentlemens might a' bought me but they wouldn't a' bought my Prissy, too, jes' to keep me frum grievin' and I thanks you. I'm gwine do my bes' fo' you and show you I ain't forgettin'."
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13
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“嗯——嗯,”杰拉尔德应着,不好意思地清了清嗓子,因为他做的这番好事被当众揭开了。
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13
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"Hum—hurrump," said Gerald, clearing his throat in embarrassment at being caught openly in an act of kindness.
Dilcey turned to Scarlett and something like a smile wrinkled the corners of her eyes. "Miss Scarlett, Poke done tole me how you ast Mist Gerald to buy me. And so I'm gwine give you my Prissy fo' yo' own maid."
She reached behind her and jerked the little girl forward. She was a brown little creature, with skinny legs like a bird and a myriad of pigtails carefully wrapped with twine sticking stiffly out from her head. She had sharp, knowing eyes that missed nothing and a studiedly stupid look on her face.
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16
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“迪尔茜,谢谢你!”思嘉答道,“不过我怕嬷嬷要说话的。我一生来就由她一直在服侍着呢。”
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16
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"Thank you, Dilcey," Scarlett replied, "but I'm afraid Mammy will have something to say about that. She's been my maid ever since I was born."
"Mammy getting ole," said Dilcey, with a calmness that would have enraged Mammy. "She a good mammy, but you a young lady now and needs a good maid, and my Prissy been maidin' fo' Miss India fo' a year now. She kin sew and fix hair good as a grown pusson."
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18
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在母亲的怂恿下百里茜突然向思嘉行了个屈膝礼,然后咧着嘴朝她笑了笑;思嘉也只她回报她一丝容。
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18
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Prodded by her mother, Prissy bobbed a sudden curtsy and grinned at Scarlett, who could not help grinning back.
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19
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“好一个机灵的小娼妇,”她想,于是便大声说:“迪尔茜,谢谢你了,等嬷嬷回来之后咱们再谈这事吧。”
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19
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"A sharp little wench," she thought, and said aloud: "Thank you, Dilcey, we'll see about it when Mother comes home."
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20
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“小姐,谢谢您。这就请您晚安了,”迪尔茜说完便身去,带着她的孩子走了,波克蹦蹦跳跳地跟在后面。
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20
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"Thankee, Ma’m. I gives you a good night," said Dilcey and, turning, left the room with her child, Pork dancing attendance.
The supper things cleared away, Gerald resumed his oration, but with little satisfaction to himself and none at all to his audience. His thunderous predictions of immediate war and his rhetorical questions as to whether the South would stand for further insults from the Yankees only produced faintly bored, ”Yes, Papas” and ”No, Pas.” Carreen, sitting on a hassock under the big lamp, was deep in the romance of a girl who had taken the veil after her lover’s death and, with silent tears of enjoyment oozing from her eyes, was pleasurably picturing herself in a white coif.
Suellen, embroidering on what she gigglingly called her ”hope chest,” was wondering if she could possibly detach Stuart Tarleton from her sister’s side at the barbecue tomorrow and fascinate him with the sweet womanly qualities which she possessed and Scarlett did not. And Scarlett was in a tumult about Ashley.
How could Pa talk on and on about Fort Sumter and the Yankees when he knew her heart was breaking? As usual in the very young, she marveled that people could be so selfishly oblivious to her pain and the world rock along just the same, in spite of her heartbreak.
Her mind was as if a cyclone had gone through it, and it seemed strange that the dining room where they sat should be so placid, so unchanged from what it had always been. The heavy mahogany table and sideboards, the massive silver, the bright rag rugs on the shining floor were all in their accustomed places, just as if nothing had happened.
It was a friendly and comfortable room and, ordinarily, Scarlett loved the quiet hours which the family spent there after supper; but tonight she hated the sight of it and, if she had not feared her father’s loudly bawled questions, she would have slipped away, down the dark hall to Ellen’s little office and cried out her sorrow on the old sofa.
That was the room that Scarlett liked the best in all the house. There, Ellen sat before her tall secretary each morning, keeping the accounts of the plantation and listening to the reports of Jonas Wilkerson, the overseer. There also the family idled while Ellen's quill scratched across her ledgers. Gerald in the old rocker, the girls on the sagging cushions of the sofa that was too battered and worn for the front of the house. Scarlett longed to be there now, alone with Ellen, so she could put her head in her mother's lap and cry in peace. Wouldn't Mother ever come home?
Then, wheels ground sharply on the graveled driveway, and the soft murmur of Ellen’s voice dismissing the coachman floated into the room. The whole group looked up eagerly as she entered rapidly, her hoops swaying, her face tired and sad. There entered with her the faint fragrance of lemon verbena sachet, which seemed always to creep from the folds of her dresses, a fragrance that was always linked in Scarlett’s mind with her mother.
Mammy followed at a few paces, the leather bag in her hand, her underlip pushed out and her brow lowering. Mammy muttered darkly to herself as she waddled, taking care that her remarks were pitched too low to be understood but loud enough to register her unqualified disapproval.
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29
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“这么晚才回,很抱歉。”爱伦说,一面将披巾从肩头取下来,递给思嘉,同时顺手在她面颊上摸了摸。
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29
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"I am sorry I am so late," said Ellen, slipping her plaid shawl from drooping shoulders and handing it to Scarlett, whose cheek she patted in passing.
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30
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杰拉尔德一见她进来便容光焕发了,仿佛施了魔术似的。
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30
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Gerald's face had brightened as if by magic at her entrance.
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31
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“那娃娃给施了洗礼了?”
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31
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"Is the brat baptized?" he questioned.
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32
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“可怜的小东西,施了,也死了。”爱伦回答说。”我本来担心埃米也会死,不过现在我她会活下去的。”
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32
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"Yes, and dead, poor thing," said Ellen. "I feared Emmie would die too, but I think she will live."
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33
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姑娘们都朝她望着,满脸流露出惊疑的神色,杰拉尔德却表示达观地摇了摇头。
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33
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The girls' faces turned to her, startled and questioning, and Gerald wagged his head philosophically.
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34
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“唔,对,还是孩子死了好,可怜的没爹娃——”
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34
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"Well, 'tis better so that the brat is dead, no doubt, poor fatherle—"
"It is late. We had better have prayers now," interrupted Ellen so smoothly that, if Scarlett had not known her mother well, the interruption would have passed unnoticed.
It would be interesting to know who was the father of Emmie Slattery’s baby, but Scarlett knew she would never learn the truth of the matter if she waited to hear it from her mother. Scarlett suspected Jonas Wilkerson, for she had frequently seen him walking down the road with Emmie at nightfall. Jonas was a Yankee and a bachelor, and the fact that he was an overseer forever barred him from any contact with the County social life.
There was no family of any standing into which he could marry, no people with whom he could associate except the Slatterys and riffraff like them. As he was several cuts above the Slatterys in education, it was only natural that he should not want to marry Emmie, no matter how often he might walk with her in the twilight.
Scarlett sighed, for her curiosity was sharp. Things were always happening under her mother's eyes which she noticed no more than if they had not happened at all. Ellen ignored all things contrary to her ideas of propriety and tried to teach Scarlett to do the same, but with poor success.
Ellen had stepped to the mantel to take her rosary beads from the small inlaid casket in which they always reposed when Mammy spoke up with firmness."Miss Ellen, you gwine eat some supper befo’ you does any prayin’."
"Ah gwine fix yo' supper mahseff an' you eats it," said Mammy, her brow furrowed with indignation as she started down the hall for the kitchen. "Poke!" she called, "tell Cookie stir up de fiah. Miss Ellen home."
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42
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地板在她脚下一路震动,她在前厅唠叨的声音也越来越高以致饭厅里全家人都清清楚楚听见了。
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42
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As the boards shuddered under her weight, the soliloquy she had been muttering in the front hall grew louder and louder, coming clearly to the ears of the family in the dining room.
"Ah has said time an' again, it doan do no good doin' nuthin' fer w'ite trash. Dey is de shiflesses, mos' ungrateful passel of no- counts livin'. An' Miss Ellen got no bizness weahin' herseff out waitin' on folks dat did dey be wuth shootin' dey'd have niggers ter wait on dem. An' Ah has said—"
Her voice trailed off as she went down the long open passageway, covered only by a roof, that led into the kitchen. Mammy had her own method of letting her owners know exactly where she stood on all matters. She knew it was beneath the dignity of quality white folks to pay the slightest attention to what a darky said when she was just grumbling to herself. She knew that to uphold this dignity, they must ignore what she said, even if she stood in the next room and almost shouted. It protected her from reproof, and it left no doubt in anyone's mind as to her exact views on any subject.
Pork entered the room, bearing a plate, silver and a napkin. He was followed closely by Jack, a black little boy of ten, hastily buttoning a white linen jacket with one hand and bearing in the other a fly-swisher, made of thin strips of newspaper tied to a reed longer than he was. Ellen had a beautiful peacock-feather fly-brusher, but it was used only on very special occasions and then only after domestic struggle, due to the obstinate conviction of Pork, Cookie and Mammy that peacock feathers were bad luck.
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46
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爱伦在杰拉尔德递过来的哪把椅子上坐下,这时四个声音一起向他发起了攻势。
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46
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Ellen sat down in the chair which Gerald pulled out for her and four voices attacked her.
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47
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“妈,我那件新跳舞衣的花边掉了,明天晚上上’十二橡树’村我得穿呀。请给我钉钉好吗?”
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47
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"Mother, the lace is loose on my new ball dress and I want to wear it tomorrow night at Twelve Oaks. Won't you please fix it?"
"Mother, Scarlett's new dress is prettier than mine and I look like a fright in pink. Why can't she wear my pink and let me wear her green? She looks all right in pink."
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49
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“妈,明天晚上我也等到散了舞会才走行吗,现在我都13了——”
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49
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"Mother, can I stay up for the ball tomorrow night? I'm thirteen now—"
"Mrs. O'Hara, would you believe it— Hush, you girls, before I take me crop to you! Cade Calvert was in Atlanta this morning and he says—will you be quiet and let me be hearing me own voice?— and he says it's all upset they are there and talking nothing but war, militia drilling, troops forming. And he says the news from Charleston is that they will be putting up with no more Yankee insults."
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51
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爱伦对这场七嘴八舌的喧哗只微微一笑,不过作为妻子,她得首先跟丈夫说几句。
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51
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Ellen's tired mouth smiled into the tumult as she addressed herself first to her husband, as a wife should.
"If the nice people of Charleston feel that way, I'm sure we will all feel the same way soon," she said, for she had a deeply rooted belief that, excepting only Savannah, most of the gentle blood of the whole continent could be found in that small seaport city, a belief shared largely by Charlestonians.
"No, Carreen, next year, dear. Then you can stay up for balls and wear grown-up dresses, and what a good time my little pink cheeks will have! Don't pout, dear. You can go to the barbecue, remember that, and stay up through supper, but no balls until you are fourteen.
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54
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“把你的衣服给我吧。思嘉,做完祷告我就替你把花边缝上。”
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54
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"Give me your gown, Scarlett, I will whip the lace for you after prayers.
"Suellen, I do not like your tone, dear. Your pink gown is lovely and suitable to your complexion, Scarlett's is to hers. But you may wear my garnet necklace tomorrow night."
Suellen, behind her mother's hack, wrinkled her nose triumphantly at Scarlett, who had been planning to beg the necklace for herself. Scarlett put out her tongue at her. Suellen was an annoying sister with her whining and selfishness, and had it not been for Ellen's restraining hand, Scarlett would frequently have boxed her ears.
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57
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“奥哈拉先生,好了,现在再给我讲讲卡尔费特先生关于查尔斯顿都谈了些什么吧,”爱伦说。
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57
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"Now, Mr. O'Hara, tell me more about what Mr. Calvert said about Charleston," said Ellen.
Scarlett knew her mother cared nothing at all about war and politics and thought them masculine matters about which no lady could intelligently concern herself. But it gave Gerald pleasure to air his views, and Ellen was unfailingly thoughtful of her husband's pleasure.
While Gerald launched forth on his news, Mammy set the plates before her mistress, golden-topped biscuits, breast of fried chicken and a yellow yam open and steaming, with melted butter dripping from it. Mammy pinched small Jack, and he hastened to his business of slowly swishing the paper ribbons back and forth behind Ellen.
Mammy stood beside the table, watching every forkful that traveled from plate to mouth, as though she intended to force the food down Ellen’s throat should she see signs of flagging. Ellen ate diligently, but Scarlett could see that she was too tired to know what she was eating. Only Mammy’s implacable face forced her to it.