The Count and the Wedding Guest

One evening when Andy Donovan went to dinner at his Second Avenue boarding-house, Mrs. Scott introduced him to a new boarder, a young lady, Miss Conway. Miss Conway was small and unobtrusive. She wore a plain, snuffy-brown dress, and bestowed her interest, which seemed languid, upon her plate. She lifted her diffident eyelids and shot one perspicuous, judicial glance at Mr. Donovan, politely murmured his name, and returned to her mutton. Mr. Donovan bowed with the grace and beaming smile that were rapidly winning for him social, business and political advancement, and erased the snuffy-brown one from the tablets of his consideration.

Suatu malam ketika Andy Donovan pergi makan malam di rumah kos Second Avenue miliknya, Nyonya Scott memperkenalkannya kepada seorang penghuni kos baru, seorang wanita muda, Nona Conway. Nona Conway bertubuh kecil dan tidak mencolok. Ia mengenakan gaun cokelat kusam yang sederhana, dan mencurahkan perhatiannya, yang tampak lesu, pada piringnya. Ia mengangkat kelopak matanya yang malu-malu dan melirikkan satu pandangan yang jeli dan menghakimi kepada Tuan Donovan, dengan sopan menggumamkan namanya, lalu kembali pada daging dombanya. Tuan Donovan membungkuk dengan keanggunan dan senyum berseri yang dengan cepat membawanya pada kemajuan sosial, bisnis, dan politik, lalu menghapus si cokelat kusam itu dari catatan perhatiannya.

Two weeks later Andy was sitting on the front steps enjoying his cigar. There was a soft rustle behind and above him, and Andy turned his head—and had his head turned.

Dua minggu kemudian Andy sedang duduk di anak tangga depan menikmati cerutunya. Ada gemerisik lembut di belakang dan di atasnya, dan Andy memalingkan kepalanya—dan kepalanya pun terpalingkan.

Just coming out the door was Miss Conway. She wore a night-black dress of crêpe de—crêpe de—oh, this thin black goods. Her hat was black, and from it drooped and fluttered an ebon veil, filmy as a spider’s web. She stood on the top step and drew on black silk gloves. Not a speck of white or a spot of color about her dress anywhere.

Baru saja keluar dari pintu adalah Nona Conway. Ia mengenakan gaun sehitam malam dari crêpe de—crêpe de—oh, kain hitam tipis ini. Topinya berwarna hitam, dan darinya menjuntai dan berkibar sebuah cadar hitam gelap, setipis jaring laba-laba. Ia berdiri di anak tangga teratas dan mengenakan sarung tangan sutra hitam. Tak ada setitik pun warna putih atau bercak warna lain pada gaunnya di mana pun.

Her rich golden hair was drawn, with scarcely a ripple, into a shining, smooth knot low on her neck. Her face was plain rather than pretty, but it was now illuminated and made almost beautiful by her large gray eyes that gazed above the houses across the street into the sky with an expression of the most appealing sadness and melancholy.

Rambut emasnya yang kaya ditarik, nyaris tanpa gelombang, menjadi sanggul yang halus dan berkilau rendah di lehernya. Wajahnya biasa saja alih-alih cantik, tetapi kini tersinari dan hampir menjadi indah oleh mata abu-abunya yang besar yang menatap ke atas rumah-rumah di seberang jalan menuju langit dengan ekspresi kesedihan dan kemurungan yang begitu menggugah.

Gather the idea, girls—all black, you know, with the preference for crêpe de—oh, crêpe de Chine—that’s it. All black, and that sad, faraway look, and the hair shining under the black veil (you have to be a blonde, of course), and try to look as if, although your young life had been blighted just as it was about to give a hop-skip-and-a-jump over the threshold of life, a walk in the park might do you good, and be sure to happen out the door at the right moment, and—oh, it’ll fetch ’em every time. But it’s fierce, now, how cynical I am, ain’t it?—to talk about mourning costumes this way.

Tangkaplah gagasannya, para gadis—semuanya hitam, kau tahu, dengan pilihan crêpe de—oh, crêpe de Chine—itu dia. Semuanya hitam, dan tatapan sedih yang jauh itu, dan rambut yang berkilau di bawah cadar hitam (kau harus berambut pirang, tentu saja), dan cobalah terlihat seolah, meskipun hidup mudamu telah dihancurkan tepat ketika hendak melompat riang melewati ambang kehidupan, sebuah jalan-jalan di taman mungkin akan membuatmu merasa lebih baik, dan pastikan untuk kebetulan keluar pintu pada saat yang tepat, dan—oh, itu akan berhasil setiap saat. Tapi sungguh keterlaluan, betapa sinisnya aku, bukan?—membicarakan busana berkabung dengan cara begini.

Mr. Donovan suddenly reinscribed Miss Conway upon the tablets of his consideration. He threw away the remaining inch-and-a-quarter of his cigar, that would have been good for eight minutes yet, and quickly shifted his center of gravity to his low cut patent leathers.

Tuan Donovan tiba-tiba mencatat ulang Nona Conway ke dalam catatan perhatiannya. Ia membuang sisa satu-seperempat-inci cerutunya, yang masih bisa bertahan delapan menit lagi, dan dengan cepat memindahkan pusat gravitasinya ke sepatu kulit paten rendahnya.

“It’s a fine, clear evening, Miss Conway,” he said; and if the Weather Bureau could have heard the confident emphasis of his tones it would have hoisted the square white signal, and nailed it to the mast.

"Malam yang indah dan cerah, Nona Conway," katanya; dan jika Badan Cuaca bisa mendengar penekanan penuh percaya diri dalam nadanya itu, mereka pasti akan mengibarkan tanda putih persegi, dan memakukannya ke tiang.

“To them that has the heart to enjoy it, it is, Mr. Donovan,” said Miss Conway, with a sigh.

"Bagi mereka yang punya hati untuk menikmatinya, memang begitu, Tuan Donovan," kata Nona Conway, sambil menghela napas.

Mr. Donovan, in his heart, cursed fair weather. Heartless weather! It should hail and blow and snow to be consonant with the mood of Miss Conway.

Tuan Donovan, dalam hatinya, mengutuki cuaca cerah itu. Cuaca yang tak berperasaan! Seharusnya turun hujan es dan angin dan salju agar sesuai dengan suasana hati Nona Conway.

“I hope none of your relatives—I hope you haven’t sustained a loss?” ventured Mr. Donovan.

"Aku harap tak ada kerabatmu—aku harap kau tak mengalami kehilangan?" Tuan Donovan memberanikan diri bertanya.

“Death has claimed,” said Miss Conway, hesitating—“not a relative, but one who—but I will not intrude my grief upon you, Mr. Donovan.”

"Maut telah merenggut," kata Nona Conway, ragu-ragu—"bukan seorang kerabat, melainkan seseorang yang—tetapi aku tak akan memaksakan kesedihanku padamu, Tuan Donovan."

“Intrude?” protested Mr. Donovan. “Why, say, Miss Conway, I’d be delighted, that is, I’d be sorry—I mean I’m sure nobody could sympathize with you truer than I would.”

"Memaksakan?" bantah Tuan Donovan. "Ah, begini, Nona Conway, aku akan senang, maksudku, aku akan turut sedih—maksudku aku yakin tak ada yang bisa bersimpati padamu setulus aku."

Miss Conway smiled a little smile. And oh, it was sadder than her expression in repose.

Nona Conway tersenyum sedikit. Dan oh, senyum itu lebih sedih daripada ekspresi diamnya.

“‘Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and they give you the laugh,’” she quoted. “I have learned that, Mr. Donovan. I have no friends or acquaintances in this city. But you have been kind to me. I appreciate it highly.”

"'Tertawalah, dan dunia tertawa bersamamu; menangislah, dan mereka menertawakanmu,'" ia mengutip. "Aku telah mempelajari itu, Tuan Donovan. Aku tak punya teman atau kenalan di kota ini. Tetapi kau telah baik padaku. Aku sangat menghargainya."

He had passed her the pepper twice at the table.

Ia telah menyodorkan lada kepadanya dua kali di meja makan.

“It’s tough to be alone in New York—that’s a cinch,” said Mr. Donovan. “But, say—whenever this little old town does loosen up and get friendly it goes the limit. Say you took a little stroll in the park, Miss Conway—don’t you think it might chase away some of your mullygrubs? And if you’d allow me—”

"Sulit sekali hidup sendirian di New York—itu sudah pasti," kata Tuan Donovan. "Tapi, begini—setiap kali kota tua kecil ini mau melonggarkan diri dan bersikap ramah, ia melakukannya sepenuh hati. Katakanlah kau berjalan-jalan sebentar di taman, Nona Conway—tidakkah menurutmu itu bisa mengusir sedikit kemuramanmu? Dan jika kau mengizinkanku—"

“Thanks, Mr. Donovan. I’d be pleased to accept of your escort if you think the company of one whose heart is filled with gloom could be anyways agreeable to you.”

"Terima kasih, Tuan Donovan. Aku akan senang menerima pengawalanmu jika menurutmu kebersamaan dengan seseorang yang hatinya dipenuhi kemuraman bisa menyenangkan bagimu."

Through the open gates of the iron-railed, old, downtown park, where the elect once took the air, they strolled, and found a quiet bench.

Melewati gerbang besi tua taman kota tua itu, tempat kaum terhormat dulu menghirup udara segar, mereka berjalan-jalan, dan menemukan sebuah bangku yang sepi.

There is this difference between the grief of youth and that of old age: youth’s burden is lightened by as much of it as another shares; old age may give and give, but the sorrow remains the same.

Ada perbedaan ini antara kesedihan masa muda dan kesedihan usia tua: beban masa muda menjadi ringan sebanyak yang dibagikan orang lain; usia tua boleh memberi dan memberi, tetapi kesedihannya tetap sama.

“He was my fiance,” confided Miss Conway, at the end of an hour. “We were going to be married next spring. I don’t want you to think that I am stringing you, Mr. Donovan, but he was a real Count. He had an estate and a castle in Italy. Count Fernando Mazzini was his name. I never saw the beat of him for elegance. Papa objected, of course, and once we eloped, but papa overtook us, and took us back. I thought sure papa and Fernando would fight a duel. Papa has a livery business—in P’kipsee, you know.”

"Ia tunanganku," Nona Conway mengaku, setelah satu jam berlalu. "Kami akan menikah musim semi depan. Aku tak ingin kau berpikir aku sedang membohongimu, Tuan Donovan, tetapi ia adalah seorang Count sungguhan. Ia punya tanah dan kastel di Italia. Namanya Count Fernando Mazzini. Aku tak pernah melihat orang seelegan dia. Papa tentu saja keberatan, dan sekali kami pernah kawin lari, tetapi papa mengejar kami, dan membawa kami kembali. Aku yakin papa dan Fernando akan berduel. Papa punya usaha penyewaan kereta—di P'kipsee, kau tahu."

“Finally, papa came ’round, all right, and said we might be married next spring. Fernando showed him proofs of his title and wealth, and then went over to Italy to get the castle fixed up for us. Papa’s very proud, and when Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for my trousseau he called him down something awful. He wouldn’t even let me take a ring or any presents from him. And when Fernando sailed I came to the city and got a position as cashier in a candy store.”

"Akhirnya, papa pun luluh, dan berkata kami boleh menikah musim semi depan. Fernando menunjukkan bukti gelar dan kekayaannya, lalu pergi ke Italia untuk membenahi kastel itu untuk kami. Papa sangat bangga, dan ketika Fernando ingin memberiku beberapa ribu dolar untuk perlengkapan pengantinku, papa memarahinya habis-habisan. Ia bahkan tak membiarkanku menerima cincin atau hadiah apa pun darinya. Dan ketika Fernando berlayar, aku datang ke kota ini dan mendapat pekerjaan sebagai kasir di sebuah toko permen."

“Three days ago I got a letter from Italy, forwarded from P’kipsee, saying that Fernando had been killed in a gondola accident.”

"Tiga hari lalu aku menerima surat dari Italia, diteruskan dari P'kipsee, mengatakan bahwa Fernando telah tewas dalam kecelakaan gondola."

“That is why I am in mourning. My heart, Mr. Donovan, will remain forever in his grave. I guess I am poor company, Mr. Donovan, but I cannot take any interest in no one. I should not care to keep you from gayety and your friends who can smile and entertain you. Perhaps you would prefer to walk back to the house?”

"Itulah sebabnya aku berkabung. Hatiku, Tuan Donovan, akan selamanya tinggal di kuburannya. Kurasa aku bukan teman bicara yang baik, Tuan Donovan, tetapi aku tak bisa tertarik pada siapa pun. Aku tak ingin menghalangimu dari kesenangan dan teman-temanmu yang bisa tersenyum dan menghiburmu. Mungkin kau lebih suka berjalan kembali ke rumah?"

Now, girls, if you want to observe a young man hustle out after a pick and shovel, just tell him that your heart is in some other fellow’s grave. Young men are grave-robbers by nature. Ask any widow. Something must be done to restore that missing organ to weeping angels in _crêpe de Chine_. Dead men certainly get the worst of it from all sides.

Nah, para gadis, jika kau ingin melihat seorang pemuda bergegas keluar mencari cangkul dan sekop, cukup katakan padanya bahwa hatimu ada di kuburan lelaki lain. Para pemuda pada dasarnya adalah pencuri kuburan. Tanyakan saja pada janda mana pun. Sesuatu harus dilakukan untuk mengembalikan organ yang hilang itu kepada para malaikat yang menangis dalam crêpe de Chine. Orang-orang mati pasti mendapat bagian yang paling buruk dari segala sisi.

“I’m awfully sorry,” said Mr. Donovan, gently. “No, we won’t walk back to the house just yet. And don’t say you haven’t no friends in this city, Miss Conway. I’m awful sorry, and I want you to believe I’m your friend, and that I’m awful sorry.”

"Aku sangat menyesal," kata Tuan Donovan, lembut. "Tidak, kita belum akan berjalan kembali ke rumah. Dan jangan bilang kau tak punya teman di kota ini, Nona Conway. Aku sangat menyesal, dan aku ingin kau percaya bahwa aku adalah temanmu, dan bahwa aku sangat menyesal."

“I’ve got his picture here in my locket,” said Miss Conway, after wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. “I never showed it to anybody; but I will to you, Mr. Donovan, because I believe you to be a true friend.”

"Aku menyimpan fotonya di sini di dalam lokitku," kata Nona Conway, setelah mengusap matanya dengan saputangannya. "Aku tak pernah menunjukkannya pada siapa pun; tetapi aku akan menunjukkannya padamu, Tuan Donovan, karena aku percaya kau adalah teman sejati."

Mr. Donovan gazed long and with much interest at the photograph in the locket that Miss Conway opened for him. The face of Count Mazzini was one to command interest. It was a smooth, intelligent, bright, almost a handsome face—the face of a strong, cheerful man who might well be a leader among his fellows.

Tuan Donovan menatap lama dan dengan penuh minat pada foto di dalam loket yang dibuka Nona Conway untuknya. Wajah Count Mazzini adalah wajah yang menarik perhatian. Wajah itu halus, cerdas, cerah, hampir tampan—wajah seorang lelaki yang kuat dan ceria yang pantas menjadi pemimpin di antara sesamanya.

“I have a larger one, framed, in my room,” said Miss Conway. “When we return I will show you that. They are all I have to remind me of Fernando. But he ever will be present in my heart, that’s a sure thing.”

"Aku punya yang lebih besar, dibingkai, di kamarku," kata Nona Conway. "Ketika kita kembali akan kutunjukkan itu padamu. Itu semua yang kupunya untuk mengingatkanku pada Fernando. Tetapi ia akan selalu hadir di hatiku, itu sudah pasti."

A subtle task confronted Mr. Donovan,—that of supplanting the unfortunate Count in the heart of Miss Conway. This his admiration for her determined him to do. But the magnitude of the undertaking did not seem to weigh upon his spirits. The sympathetic but cheerful friend was the rôle he essayed; and he played it so successfully that the next half-hour found them conversing pensively across two plates of ice-cream, though yet there was no diminution of the sadness in Miss Conway’s large gray eyes.

Sebuah tugas yang rumit menghadang Tuan Donovan—yaitu menggantikan Count yang malang itu di dalam hati Nona Conway. Kekagumannya pada wanita itu membulatkan tekadnya untuk melakukan ini. Tetapi besarnya tugas itu tampaknya tak membebani semangatnya. Peran teman yang bersimpati namun ceria adalah yang ia coba mainkan; dan ia memainkannya dengan begitu berhasil sehingga setengah jam berikutnya mendapati mereka bercakap-cakap dengan termenung di atas dua piring es krim, meski kesedihan di mata abu-abu besar Nona Conway belum juga berkurang.

Before they parted in the hall that evening she ran upstairs and brought down the framed photograph wrapped lovingly in a white silk scarf. Mr. Donovan surveyed it with inscrutable eyes.

Sebelum mereka berpisah di lorong malam itu, ia berlari ke atas dan membawa turun foto berbingkai itu, dibungkus dengan penuh kasih dalam selendang sutra putih. Tuan Donovan mengamatinya dengan mata yang tak terbaca.

“He gave me this the night he left for Italy,” said Miss Conway. “I had the one for the locket made from this.”

"Ia memberiku ini pada malam ia berangkat ke Italia," kata Nona Conway. "Yang untuk loket kubuat dari yang ini."

“A fine-looking man,” said Mr. Donovan, heartily. “How would it suit you, Miss Conway, to give me the pleasure of your company to Coney next Sunday afternoon?”

"Lelaki yang tampan," kata Tuan Donovan, dengan penuh semangat. "Bagaimana kalau, Nona Conway, memberiku kesenangan ditemani olehmu ke Coney Minggu depan sore?"

A month later they announced their engagement to Mrs. Scott and the other boarders. Miss Conway continued to wear black.

Sebulan kemudian mereka mengumumkan pertunangan mereka kepada Nyonya Scott dan penghuni kos lainnya. Nona Conway tetap mengenakan hitam.

A week after the announcement the two sat on the same bench in the downtown park, while the fluttering leaves of the trees made a dim kinetoscopic picture of them in the moonlight. But Donovan had worn a look of abstracted gloom all day. He was so silent to-night that love’s lips could not keep back any longer the questions that love’s heart propounded.

Seminggu setelah pengumuman itu, keduanya duduk di bangku yang sama di taman kota tua itu, sementara daun-daun pohon yang berkibar membentuk gambar kinetoskop yang samar di bawah cahaya bulan. Tetapi Donovan telah tampak murung dan bingung sepanjang hari. Ia begitu diam malam itu sehingga bibir cinta tak bisa lagi menahan pertanyaan-pertanyaan yang diutarakan hati cinta.

“What’s the matter, Andy, you are so solemn and grouchy to-night?”

"Ada apa, Andy, kenapa kau begitu murung dan cemberut malam ini?"

“Nothing, Maggie.”

"Tak ada apa-apa, Maggie."

“I know better. Can’t I tell? You never acted this way before. What is it?”

"Aku tahu lebih baik dari itu. Tidakkah aku bisa merasakannya? Kau tak pernah bersikap seperti ini sebelumnya. Ada apa?"

“It’s nothing much, Maggie.”

"Bukan apa-apa yang berarti, Maggie."

“Yes it is; and I want to know. I’ll bet it’s some other girl you are thinking about. All right. Why don’t you go get her if you want her? Take your arm away, if you please.”

"Ya, ada; dan aku ingin tahu. Aku yakin kau sedang memikirkan gadis lain. Baiklah. Kenapa kau tidak pergi saja mendapatkannya jika kau menginginkannya? Lepaskan tanganmu, tolong."

“I’ll tell you then,” said Andy, wisely, “but I guess you won’t understand it exactly. You’ve heard of Mike Sullivan, haven’t you? ‘Big Mike’ Sullivan, everybody calls him.”

"Akan kuceritakan padamu kalau begitu," kata Andy, bijaksana, "tapi kurasa kau tak akan benar-benar mengerti. Kau pernah dengar tentang Mike Sullivan, kan? 'Big Mike' Sullivan, semua orang memanggilnya begitu."

“No, I haven’t,” said Maggie. “And I don’t want to, if he makes you act like this. Who is he?”

"Tidak, belum pernah," kata Maggie. "Dan aku tak mau tahu, kalau ia membuatmu bersikap seperti ini. Siapa dia?"

“He’s the biggest man in New York,” said Andy, almost reverently. “He can about do anything he wants to with Tammany or any other old thing in the political line. He’s a mile high and as broad as East River. You say anything against Big Mike, and you’ll have a million men on your collarbone in about two seconds. Why, he made a visit over to the old country awhile back, and the kings took to their holes like rabbits.

"Ia orang paling berkuasa di New York," kata Andy, hampir dengan penuh hormat. "Ia bisa melakukan apa pun yang ia mau dengan Tammany atau hal-hal politik lainnya. Ia setinggi satu mil dan seluas East River. Kau bicara apa pun yang buruk soal Big Mike, dan dalam dua detik kau akan punya sejuta orang di atas tulang selangkamu. Nah, ia pernah berkunjung ke negeri lama beberapa waktu lalu, dan para raja bersembunyi ke lubang mereka seperti kelinci.

“Well, Big Mike’s a friend of mine. I ain’t more than deuce-high in the district as far as influence goes, but Mike’s as good a friend to a little man, or a poor man as he is to a big one. I met him to-day on the Bowery, and what do you think he does? Comes up and shakes hands.

"Nah, Big Mike itu temanku. Aku tak lebih dari orang kelas dua di distrik ini soal pengaruh, tapi Mike sama baiknya sebagai teman bagi orang kecil, atau orang miskin, seperti ia bagi orang besar. Aku bertemu dengannya hari ini di Bowery, dan coba tebak apa yang ia lakukan? Ia menghampiri dan berjabat tangan.

“‘Andy,’ says he, ‘I’ve been keeping cases on you. You’ve been putting in some good licks over on your side of the street, and I’m proud of you. What’ll you take to drink?” He takes a cigar, and I take a highball. I told him I was going to get married in two weeks. ‘Andy,’ says he, ‘send me an invitation, so I’ll keep in mind of it, and I’ll come to the wedding.’ That’s what Big Mike says to me; and he always does what he says.

"'Andy,' katanya, 'aku sudah memperhatikanmu. Kau sudah melakukan hal-hal bagus di sisimu, dan aku bangga padamu. Mau minum apa?' Ia mengambil sebatang cerutu, dan aku mengambil segelas highball. Kuberitahu dia aku akan menikah dua minggu lagi. 'Andy,' katanya, 'kirimi aku undangan, supaya aku ingat, dan aku akan datang ke pernikahanmu.' Itulah yang dikatakan Big Mike padaku; dan ia selalu melakukan apa yang ia katakan.

“You don’t understand it, Maggie, but I’d have one of my hands cut off to have Big Mike Sullivan at our wedding. It would be the proudest day of my life. When he goes to a man’s wedding, there’s a guy being married that’s made for life. Now, that’s why I’m maybe looking sore to-night.”

"Kau tak mengerti, Maggie, tapi aku rela salah satu tanganku dipotong asalkan Big Mike Sullivan hadir di pernikahan kita. Itu akan menjadi hari paling membanggakan dalam hidupku. Ketika ia menghadiri pernikahan seseorang, orang yang menikah itu hidupnya terjamin selamanya. Nah, itulah sebabnya mungkin aku terlihat murung malam ini."

“Why don’t you invite him, then, if he’s so much to the mustard?” said Maggie, lightly.

"Kenapa kau tidak mengundangnya saja, kalau ia sehebat itu?" kata Maggie, ringan.

“There’s a reason why I can’t,” said Andy, sadly. “There’s a reason why he mustn’t be there. Don’t ask me what it is, for I can’t tell you.”

"Ada alasan mengapa aku tak bisa," kata Andy, sedih. "Ada alasan mengapa ia tak boleh berada di sana. Jangan tanya aku apa itu, sebab aku tak bisa memberitahumu."

“Oh, I don’t care,” said Maggie. “It’s something about politics, of course. But it’s no reason why you can’t smile at me.”

"Oh, aku tak peduli," kata Maggie. "Itu pasti soal politik. Tapi bukan berarti kau tak bisa tersenyum padaku."

“Maggie,” said Andy, presently, “do you think as much of me as you did of your—as you did of the Count Mazzini?”

"Maggie," kata Andy, sesaat kemudian, "apakah kau memikirkanku sebanyak kau memikirkan—sebanyak kau memikirkan Count Mazzini?"

He waited a long time, but Maggie did not reply. And then, suddenly she leaned against his shoulder and began to cry—to cry and shake with sobs, holding his arm tightly, and wetting the crêpe de Chine with tears.

Ia menunggu lama sekali, tetapi Maggie tak menjawab. Dan kemudian, tiba-tiba ia bersandar pada bahunya dan mulai menangis—menangis dan bergetar dengan isak tangis, memegang erat lengannya, dan membasahi crêpe de Chine itu dengan air mata.

“There, there, there!” soothed Andy, putting aside his own trouble. “And what is it, now?”

"Sudah, sudah, sudah!" Andy menenangkan, menyampingkan masalahnya sendiri. "Ada apa sekarang?"

“Andy,” sobbed Maggie. “I’ve lied to you, and you’ll never marry me, or love me any more. But I feel that I’ve got to tell. Andy, there never was so much as the little finger of a count. I never had a beau in my life. But all the other girls had; and they talked about ’em; and that seemed to make the fellows like ’em more.

"Andy," Maggie terisak. "Aku telah berbohong padamu, dan kau tak akan pernah menikahiku, atau mencintaiku lagi. Tapi aku merasa harus memberitahumu. Andy, tak pernah ada seorang count pun, bahkan sejari kelingking pun. Aku tak pernah punya kekasih seumur hidupku. Tetapi semua gadis lain punya; dan mereka membicarakannya; dan itu tampaknya membuat para lelaki lebih menyukai mereka.

“And, Andy, I look swell in black—you know I do. So I went out to a photograph store and bought that picture, and had a little one made for my locket, and made up all that story about the Count, and about his being killed, so I could wear black. And nobody can love a liar, and you’ll shake me, Andy, and I’ll die for shame. Oh, there never was anybody I liked but you—and that’s all.”

"Dan, Andy, aku terlihat anggun dalam warna hitam—kau tahu itu benar. Jadi aku pergi ke sebuah toko foto dan membeli foto itu, dan membuat yang kecil untuk lokitku, dan mengarang seluruh kisah tentang Count itu, dan tentang kematiannya, supaya aku bisa mengenakan hitam. Dan tak ada yang bisa mencintai seorang pembohong, dan kau akan meninggalkanku, Andy, dan aku akan mati karena malu. Oh, tak pernah ada siapa pun yang kusukai selain kau—dan itu saja."

But instead of being pushed away, she found Andy’s arm folding her closer. She looked up and saw his face cleared and smiling.

Tetapi alih-alih didorong menjauh, ia mendapati lengan Andy merangkulnya lebih erat. Ia mendongak dan melihat wajahnya yang berseri dan tersenyum.

“Could you—could you forgive me, Andy?”

"Bisakah kau—bisakah kau memaafkanku, Andy?"

“Sure,” said Andy. “It’s all right about that. Back to the cemetery for the Count. You’ve straightened everything out, Maggie. I was in hopes you would before the wedding-day. Bully girl!”

"Tentu saja," kata Andy. "Semuanya baik-baik saja soal itu. Kembalikan Count itu ke pemakaman. Kau telah meluruskan segalanya, Maggie. Aku berharap kau melakukannya sebelum hari pernikahan. Gadis yang hebat!"

“Andy,” said Maggie, with a somewhat shy smile, after she had been thoroughly assured of forgiveness, “did you believe all that story about the Count?”

"Andy," kata Maggie, dengan senyum agak malu-malu, setelah ia sepenuhnya diyakinkan telah dimaafkan, "apakah kau percaya semua kisah tentang Count itu?"

“Well, not to any large extent,” said Andy, reaching for his cigar case, “because it’s Big Mike Sullivan’s picture you’ve got in that locket of yours.”

"Yah, tidak terlalu banyak," kata Andy, meraih kotak cerutunya, "sebab itu foto Big Mike Sullivan yang ada di dalam loketmu itu."