更多英文有声读物中英对照同步视频请请加V信公众号：yyxxzlk
The Withered Arm
1 The milkmaid and the wife
It was six o’clock on a warm April evening, milking time for Farmer Lodge's eighty cows.
They stood quietly in the dairy, and the milkmaids were all at work.
‘They say Farmer Lodge is coming home with his new wife tomorrow,’ said one milkmaid.
‘Yes. And she's young and pretty, I hear,’ a second girl said.
She looked past her cow to the other end of the dairy.
There was another milkmaid there, a thin, older woman, about thirty years old.
The first girl looked at the older woman too. ‘I'm sorry for her,’ she said quietly to her friend.
‘Oh no,’ said the second girl. ‘That was years and years ago.
‘Farmer Lodge never speaks to Rhoda Brook these days.’
When the milking was finished, the milkmaids left the dairy and went home.
The thin woman, Rhoda Brook, did not walk to the village with the other girls.
She went up the hill behind the farm to a little house near the trees.
It was a poor house, of only two rooms, and the roof did not keep the rain out.
At the door of the house the woman met her son, a boy of about twelve, and they went inside.
‘I heard something at the dairy today,’ the woman said.
‘Your father is bringing his young wife home tomorrow. I want you to go and look at her.’
‘Yes, mother,’ said the boy. ‘Is father married then?’
‘Yes... You can go into town and do my shopping for me.
‘And when you see her, there or on the road, look at her carefully.’ ‘Yes, mother.’
‘What is she like? I want to know. Is she tall, is she short?
‘Are her eyes blue or brown or green?
‘Look at the colour of her hair, the colour of her dress.
‘And look at her hands. Does she have small white hands, or the hands of a milkmaid, a worker's hands?
‘You must look at all these things, and tell me.’
‘Yes, mother,’ the boy said again.
He took a piece of bread from the table and began to eat it.
His mother said nothing more, but turned her thin, pale face to the open door.
Her beautiful dark eyes stared out at the trees, seeing and not seeing.
The next evening was warm and sunny.
The road from the town to the farm went up and down a number of hills,
and near the top of one big hill the boy saw a carriage behind him.
It was Farmer Lodge with his new wife.
She was a pretty young thing, much younger than her husband, with a sweet, innocent face.
The boy carried a heavy bag, and was happy to stop and stare for a minute.
The carriage came slowly up the hill,
and the boy took a good long look at the farmer's wife.
His eyes never left her face.
The farmer did not look at the boy once,
and at the top of the hill the carriage went faster, leaving the boy behind.
‘How that poor boy stared at me!’ said the young wife.
‘Yes, my love. I saw that,’ the farmer said.
‘Is he a boy from the village?’
‘No. I think he lives with his mother on one of these hills.’
‘He knows you, then.’
‘Of course. And everyone is going to stare at you at first, my pretty Gertrude.’
‘Yes, I know. But that poor boy had a very heavy bag. Perhaps he wanted us to help him with the bag.’
‘Oh, these country boys can carry anything,’ said her husband. ‘They do it all the time.’
The carriage went quickly on.
After a time the boy left the road and went up the hill to his mother's house.
She was home before him.
She took the heavy bag from him and began to take the things out.
‘Well, did you see her?’
‘Yes. I had a good look at her on the road.’
‘And what is she like?’ ‘She's nice.’
‘Is she young?’ ‘Well, she's older than me.’
‘Of course she is. But is she older than me?’ ‘No, she's younger.’
‘Ah. What colour is her hair?’ ‘It's a brown colour, and her face is very pretty.’
‘Are her eyes dark?’ ‘No, they're blue, and her mouth is very nice and red,
‘and when she smiles, you can see white teeth.’
‘Is she tall?’ said the woman, a little angrily.
‘I couldn't see. She was in the carriage.’
‘Then tomorrow you must go to church.
‘Go early, before she and Mr Lodge arrive, and watch her when she walks in.
‘Then come home and tell me.’
‘Very well, mother. But why don't you go and look at her?’
‘Never! I don't want to see her.
‘She was with Mr Lodge, of course.
‘Did he look at you or speak to you?’ ‘No.’
The next day the boy went to church, and waited and watched.
When Mr and Mrs Lodge arrived, everybody- not just the boy— stared at the new wife with interest.
When the boy reached home, his mother said, ‘Well?’
‘She's not tall. She's short,’ the boy said. ‘Ah!’ said his mother, pleased.
‘But she's very pretty- very. She had a beautiful white dress on, and it made a lot of noise when she moved.
‘Mr Lodge looked very happy with her.’
‘No more now,’ said the woman. ‘You can tell me more later.’
In the next days, Rhoda Brook heard more and more from her son about the new wife.
The boy often saw Mrs Lodge around the farmhouse,
but his mother never saw her, and never went near the farmhouse.
At the dairy the other milkmaids talked a lot about the new wife.
They usually stopped when Rhoda was near, but she heard some of it.
She remembered everything, and forgot nothing.
And slowly Rhoda Brook made a picture in her head of the young Mrs Lodge-
a picture as good, as true as a photograph.
