Chapter 2 second quarter

I don't want to pretend that I didn't feel bad about the anonymous letter, it did.But after a while I forgot about it.You see, I didn't take that letter very seriously at the time.I remember telling myself at the time that maybe this kind of thing happens a lot in small remote villages like this.The person who wrote the letter was probably a nervous and dreamy woman.At any rate, it wouldn't do any harm if all anonymous letters were as childish as the one we received. The second "accident" - if one can call it that - happened about a week later. Patrice pouted unhappily and told me that Beatrice, the girl who came to help every day, couldn't come that day.

"I suppose, sir," said Patridge, "that she must be feeling very ill." I didn't quite know what Patrige was referring to. I guessed it was stomach pain or something, so I said to Patrige, I feel very sad and hope she recovers soon. "She's very well, sir," replied Patridge, "but she's not feeling well." "Huh?" I said in a confused tone. "Because she got a letter," said Patridge, "that hinted at something." Partridge's stern eyes made me understand that the hint in the letter must have something to do with me.To be honest, if I met Beatrice in the street, I would not even recognize her, because I was so new to her, so I was very unhappy at the time.A person like me who has limited mobility and has to walk with two crutches, what spirit is there to deceive the feelings of the girls in the town.

I said angrily: "It's so boring!" "That's what I told her mother," Patridge said, "'As long as I'm in charge of this family, this will never happen. And as for Beatrice,' I said, 'Girls today are the same as they used to be. It's different, and if she goes somewhere else, I can't guarantee anything." But in fact, sir, Beatrice's friend who works in the garage also received a dirty letter like this, and he It was very irrational.” "I've never heard anything so absurd in my life," I said angrily. "I don't think, sir," said Patridge, "that she's never going to help us again. I mean, she wouldn't be really so angry if she wasn't worried about something showing up. Yes. As I said long ago, there is no smoke without fire."

At that time, I didn't expect that I would hate this idiom so much in the future. That morning, I went for a walk in town.The sun is shining, the air is fresh and lively, with the sweet smell of spring.I picked up my crutches, firmly refused Joanna to accompany me, and started on my own. But we agreed in advance that she would drive to the town to pick me up for lunch when she arrives around the same time. "That way, you should be able to talk to everyone in Lynstack and kill the day." "I'm sure," I said, "I'll see everyone in town by then." The street in the morning is a place where shoppers meet and exchange news.

However, I couldn't walk out into the street by myself after all.We had only gone two hundred yards or so before a bicycle bell rang and brakes were heard behind me, and then Megan Hunt jumped out of the car somewhat recklessly and fell to the ground beside me. "Hi!" She stood up, patting the dust off her body, and greeted me. I adore Megan, and have always felt a little pity for her. She is the step-daughter of Mrs Symington, the daughter of Mrs Symington's former husband.Mr. Hunt (or the Captain) is rarely mentioned, perhaps because he is preferred to be forgotten.It is said that he treated Mrs Symington very badly, and she divorced him after a year or two of marriage.She was able to earn a living on her own, settled in Lynstack with her youngest daughter, and finally married Richard Symmington, the only eligible bachelor in the area.

After their marriage, they gave birth to two boys, and their parents loved them very much.I sometimes think that Meghan must feel out of place in the family once in a while.She was not at all like her mother, who was small and spiritless, and who talked in a weak, melancholy voice about the servants' difficulties and her own health. Megan is a tall and clumsy girl. Although she is actually twenty years old, she still looks like a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl, with untidy brown hair, light brown eyes, and a thin face. so cute.Her clothes were scruffy and unattractive, and she often wore twine stockings with holes.

It occurred to me this morning that she looked more like a horse than a person.In fact, she would be a fine horse with a little grooming. She said to me in her usual breathless, hurried voice, "I've been to the farm—you know, Reisher's farm, to see if they have duck eggs. They've been Raised a lot of piglets, so cute! Do you like pigs? I really like them, even their smell." "Pigs shouldn't stink if they're well taken care of," I said. "Really? But all the pigs around here smell bad. Are you going to the town? I saw that you were alone, so I wanted to stop and walk with you, but I stopped too hastily."

"You tore your socks," I said. Megan looked at her right leg with a regretful expression, and said, "Yes, but there are two holes anyway, so it doesn't matter too much, does it?" "You never darn your socks, Megan." "Occasionally, if Mom catches me, but she pays very little attention to me—so I'm pretty lucky, aren't I?" "You don't seem to realize that you've grown up," I said. "You mean I should be like your sister, dressed up like a doll?" I didn't like how she described Joanne, and replied, "She looks clean, well-groomed, and pleasant."

"She's so beautiful," Meghan said. "It's not like you at all, is it? How could it be?" "Siblings don't have to be alike." "Well, of course, I don't look much like Brian or Colin, and neither of them look much like each other." She paused, and then said, "Funny, isn't it?" "What's ridiculous?" Megan simply replied: "Family." I thought about it and said, "I think so." But I still don't understand what she's thinking. We walked in silence for a while, and Megan said in a slightly shy tone, "You know how to fly, don't you?"

"yes." "That's why you got hurt?" "Well, the plane crashed accidentally." Meghan said: "Nobody here can fly a plane." "Oh," I said, "probably not. Do you like learning to fly, Megan." "Me?" Megan seemed surprised, "God, don't like it, I will definitely get airsick. I will even get motion sickness on the train." She paused and asked with childish bluntness, "Are you going to get better and keep flying? Or will you always be a little crippled?" "Doctors say I'll make a full recovery."

"Yes, but is he the kind of person who can tell lies?" "I don't think so," I replied, "to be honest, I'm very confident, and I take his word for it." "That's good, but there are indeed many people who like to lie." I did not speak, silently acknowledging this undeniable fact. Megan said in a tone like a judge: "I'm so happy, I thought you would have a bad temper because you were worried about being disabled for a lifetime-but if you are born that way, it will be different." "I don't have a bad temper." I said coldly. "Oh, that's very hasty." "I'm in a rush because I'm desperate to get back together, but there's no rush for this kind of thing." "Then why bother?" I laughed, "Dear girl, don't you ever feel anxious about what's to come?" Megan thought for a while and replied: "No, why bother? There is nothing to look forward to, and nothing will happen." I was taken aback by her desperate tone, and said to her gently: "What are you doing here by yourself?" She shrugged. "What can I do?" "Don't you have any hobbies? Don't you play any games? Don't you have any friends?" "I'm not good at playing games, there aren't many girls around here, and the ones I know I don't like because they think I'm annoying." "It's ridiculous, why do they think that?" Megan shook her head. By this time we were out on the street, and Megan said sharply: "Miss Griffey is here. This woman is the most annoying. She always wants me to join that ridiculous fellowship. I hate joining fellowship. Why put on a lot of clothes and badges and do things I don't know how to do thing? I feel so stupid." Generally speaking, I agree with Megan's statement, but before I can express my agreement, Miss Griffey has already walked in front of us. This sister, who is very proud of her inappropriate name-Amy-doctor, is completely different from her brother and is full of self-confidence.Her voice was deep and had an appeal to weather-beaten men. "Hey, you two," she said, blocking us, "what a pleasant morning, isn't it? Meghan, I was just asking for your help writing some envelopes for the Conservative Society." Megan muttered some words of refusal, turned off the bicycle faucet, and slipped towards the "International Store". "What a strange child," said Miss Griffey, looking after her. "It must have been a great trial for poor Mrs. Symmington, to be loafing about every day, wasting her time. I know her mother has Tried a few times, got her to find something to do—you know, typing, shorthand, cooking, or raising some angora rabbits, she really needed something to spice up her life." That may be true, but thinking of Megan, I feel that I should firmly reject any suggestion from Amy Griffey, because her domineering attitude alone is enough to make me angry. "I don't think one should be lazy," went on Miss Griffey, "especially young people. Meghan is neither beautiful nor attractive, and sometimes I think she's an idiot, and she's a real disappointment to her mother. She Father—you know," she continued, lowering her voice, "it's obviously not a good thing. Her mother has been worried that the child will be like him, and she is in great pain. Well, anyway, as I said, a kind of rice Hundreds of people." "Fortunately." I replied. Amy Griffey smiled "happily". "Yeah, it wouldn't work if everyone looked the same. But I don't like to see anyone have a bad life. I'm very satisfied with my life, and I want everyone to be like me. People tell me, you Living in the country, it must be annoying, I said no! I am busy all year round, and I am very happy all year round. Many stories often happen in the country, and my time is all taken up. I have to be busy with fellowship, There is no time to take care of Owen because of school affairs and various committee affairs." At this time, Miss Griffey saw another acquaintance coming across the street, muttered a few words that she knew him, and skipped across the street, leaving me alone towards the bank. I've always found Miss Griffey to be too domineering. After I went to the bank and finished my business successfully, I went to the office of "Garberys & Symington Law Firm".I don't know if Jabris is still alive, I've never seen him anyway.I was ushered into Richard Symmington's private office, which had the air of a long-established law firm. There are many deed boxes in the room, which are marked "Mrs. Hope", "Lord Everard Carr", "Mr. William Jesby Hoss (deceased)"...etc. A prestigious family also thinks that this law firm is legal everywhere and has a long history. As Mr Symington looked down at the papers I had given him, I looked at him and thought: If Mrs Symington's first marriage had been unhappy, this second marriage must have been quite reassuring for her.Richard Symington was a typical example of that hearty respectability which never disturbed his wife for a moment.In the long neck, there is an obvious Adam's apple, and on the slightly pale face, there is a straight long nose.Undoubtedly a good husband and father, but seems a bit too calm. After a while, Mr. Symmington spoke, and he spoke clearly and slowly, showing that he was a reasonable and intelligent man. We got it over with quickly, and I said to him as I got up, "I just walked into town with your stepdaughter." For a while, Mr. Simmington looked as if he didn't know who his stepdaughter was, and then he laughed: "Oh, oh, of course—Meghan, well—er—has been home from school for a while now, and we've been trying to find something for her to do—yes, find something to do. But of course, she still Small, and, as others have said, mentally not as old as she is." I walked out of his office, and there was an old man sitting on a bench outside.a thin, droopy-cheeked boy; and a curly-haired, middle-aged woman with a pince-nez, typing hurriedly on a typewriter. If this is Miss King Ward, I do agree with Owen Griffey that there can never be any emotional entanglement between her and her employer. Then, I went to the bakery and asked for a piece of toast with raisins. After a while, I got a piece of "freshly baked bread"—I held the bread to my chest, and it was immediately warm. Out of the bakery, I looked up and down the street for a while, hoping to see Joanna drive up.After walking such a long distance just now, I'm already quite tired, and I'm walking with a cane and bread in my hands, and the way I walk is really a bit ridiculous. But looking left and right, there was no sign of Joanna. Suddenly, I looked ahead happily and in disbelief. A goddess came slowly from the side of the road. Apart from "goddess", I really don't know what words to use to describe it.Such flawless facial features, lively and lovely golden curly hair, and a tall and beautiful figure are indeed well-deserved for this term.She approached me lightly, as if without any effort. What a dazzling, unbelievable, breathless girl. In the midst of my ecstasy, something fell—it was the raisin toast that fell out of my arm.I leaned over to pick it up, but the crutch fell to the ground again. I slipped and almost fell to the ground. Just then, the powerful arms of the goddess grabbed me and lifted me up. I stammered, "Many—thank you, I'm—sorry." She picked up the toast, handed it back to me together with the cane, and then smiled cordially and cheerfully: "It's nothing, it's not troublesome at all, don't take it to heart." But that magic power disappeared in a flat, capable voice. Good looking, healthy, that's all, nothing else. I suddenly thought, if God also endowed Helen, a beauty in Troy, with such a flat voice, would everything be different? really weird!When a girl doesn't speak, it can shake your heart and soul, but when she speaks, all those magical powers are gone. But I have also encountered the opposite situation. Once I met a thin and ordinary woman, no one would turn around to look at her for a second time, but when she opened her mouth, everything was different, as if there was a sudden radiance in the air. Some kind of magic, like the reappearance of Cleopatra. Joanna pulled up next to me without me noticing and asked me if something was wrong. "Nothing," I said, trying to concentrate, "I'm thinking of Helen the Beauty of Troy and some others." "Thinking in this kind of place? It's funny!" Joanna said, "You look so weird, holding the toast on your chest, standing there with your mouth wide open." "I was taken aback," I said. "I just wandered through Troy and suddenly came back to reality." I pointed to the elegant and gradually drifting background, and asked Joanna, "Do you know who that is?" Joanna glanced at the girl and said she was the Simmington's child's nanny and governess. "Is she the one who surprised you?" She asked, "She's pretty, but she doesn't have much connotation." "I know," I said, "it's just a pretty girl. I thought she was Venus reborn!" Joanna opened the car door and let me in. "It's funny, isn't it?" she said. "There are people who are good-looking but not at all attractive, like that girl. What a pity!" I said that it would be the same if she had become a nanny and governess.