bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第142节
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“I hope this marriage is for the best； Guardian？” said I； when
we three were on our road home。
“I hope it is； little woman。 Patience。 We shall see。”
“Is the wind in the East today？” I ventured to ask him。
He laughed heartily； and answered “No。”
“But it must have been this morning； I think；” said I。
He answered “No；” again； and this time my dear girl
confidently answered “No；” too； and shook the lovely head which；
with its blooming flowers against the golden hair； was like the very
Spring。 “Much you know of East winds； my ugly darling；” said I；
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kissing her in my admiration—I couldn’t help it。
Well！ It was only their love for me； I know very well； and it is a
long time ago。 I must write it； even if I rub it out again； because it
gives me so much pleasure。 They said there could be no East
winds where Somebody was； they said that wherever Dame
Durden went； there was sunshine and summer air。
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Chapter 31
Nurse And Patient
had not been at home again many days； when one evening I
went upstairs into my own room to take a peep over Charley’s
Ishoulder； and see how she was getting on with her copy…book。
Writing was a trying business to Charley； who seemed to have no
natural power over a pen； but in whose hand every pen appeared
to become perversely animated； and to go wrong and crooked； and
to stop； and splash； and sidle into corners； like a saddle…donkey。 It
was very odd； to see what old letters Charley’s young hand made；
they； so wrinkled； and shrivelled； and tottering； it； so plump and
round。 Yet Charley was uncommonly expert at other things； and
had as nimble little fingers as I ever watched。
“Well； Charley；” said I； looking over a copy of the letter O in
which it was represented as square； triangular； pear…shaped； and
collapsed in all kinds of ways； “we are improving。 If we only get to
make it round； we shall be perfect； Charley。”
Then I made one； and Charley made one； and the pen wouldn’t
join Charley’s neatly； but twisted it up into a knot。
“Never mind； Charley。 We shall do it in time。”
Charley laid down her pen； the copy being finished； opened and
shut her cramped little hand； looked gravely at the page； half in
pride and half in doubt； and got up； and dropped me a curtsey。
“Thank you； miss。 If you please； miss； did you know a poor
person of the name of Jenny？”
“A brickmaker’s wife； Charley？ Yes。”
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“She came and spoke to me when I was out a little while ago；
and said you knew her； miss。 She asked me if I wasn’t the young
lady’s little maid—meaning you for the young lady； miss—and I
said yes； miss。”
“I thought she had left this neighbourhood altogether；
Charley。”
“So she had； miss； but she’s come back again to where she used
to live—she and Liz。 Did you know another poor person of the
name of Liz； miss？”
“I think I do； Charley； though not by name。”
“That’s what she said！” returned Charley。 “They have both
come back； miss； and have been tramping high and low。”
“Tramping high and low； have they； Charley？”
“Yes； miss。” If Charley could only have made the letters in her
copy as round as the eyes with which she looked into my face； they
would have been excellent。 “And this poor person came about the
house three or four days； hoping to get a glimpse of you； miss—all
she wanted； she said—but you were away。 That was when she saw
me。 She saw me a going about； miss；” said Charley； with a short
laugh of the greatest delight and pride； “and she thought I looked
like your maid！”
“Did she though； really； Charley？”
“Yes； miss！” said Charley； “really and truly。” And Charley； with
another short laugh of the purest glee； made her eyes very round
again； and looked as serious as became my maid。 I was never tired
of seeing Charley in the full enjoyment of that great dignity；
standing before me with her youthful face and figure； and her
steady manner； and her childish exultation breaking through it
now and then in the pleasantest way。
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“And where did you see her； Charley？” said I。
My little maid’s countenance fell； as she replied； “By the
doctor’s shop； miss。” For Charley wore her black frock yet。
I asked if the brickmaker’s wife were ill； but Charley said No。 It
was some one else。 Some one in her cottage who had tramped
down to Saint Alban’s； and was tramping he didn’t know where。 A
poor boy； Charley said。 No father； no mother； no any one。 “Like as
Tom might have been； miss； if Emma and me had died after
father；” said Charley； her round eyes filling with tears。
“And she was getting medicine for him； Charley？”
“She said； miss；” returned Charley； “how that he had once done
as much for her。”
My little maid’s face was so eager； and her quiet hands were
folded so closely in one another as she stood looking at me； that I
had no great difficulty in reading her thoughts。 “Well； Charley；”
said I； “it appears to me that you and I can do no better than go
round to Jenny’s and see what’s the matter。”
The alacrity with which Charley brought my bonnet and veil；
and； having dressed me； quaintly pinned herself into her warm
shawl and made herself look like a little old woman； sufficiently
expressed her readiness。 So Charley and I； without saying
anything to any one； went out。
It was a cold； wild night； and the trees shuddered in the wind。
The rain had been thick and heavy all day； and with little
intermission for many days。 None was falling just then； however。
The sky had partly cleared； but was very gloomy—even above us；
where a few stars were shining。 In the north and northwest； where
the sun had set three hours before； there was a pale dead light
both beautiful and awful； and into it long sullen lines of cloud
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waved up； like a sea stricken immovable as it was heaving。
Towards London； a lurid glare overhung the whole dark waste；
and the contrast between these two lights； and the fancy which the
redder light engendered of an unearthly fire； gleaming on all the
unseen buildings of the city； and on all the faces of its many
thousands of wondering inhabitants； was as solemn as might be。
I had no thought； that night—none； I am quite sure—of what
was soon to happen to me。 But I have always remembered since；
that when we had stopped at the garden gate to look up at the sky；
and when we went upon our way； I had for a moment an
undefinable impression of myself as being something different
from what I then was。 I know it was then； and there； that I had it。 I
have ever since connected the feeling with that spot and time； and
with everything associated with that spot and time； to the distant
voices in the town； the barking of a dog； and the sound of wheels
coming down the miry hill。
It was Saturday night； and most of the people belonging to the
place where we were going； were drinking elsewhere。 We found it
quieter than I had previously seen it； though quite as miser
