bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第16节
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a few months ago；—“a plain； honest letter；” Ada said—proposing
the arrangement we were now to enter on； and telling her that； “in
time it might heal some of the wounds made by the miserable
Chancery suit。” She had replied； gratefully accepting his proposal。
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Richard had received a similar letter； and had made a similar
response。 He had seen Mr Jarndyce once； but only once； five years
ago； at Winchester school。 He had told Ada； when they were
leaning on the screen before the fire where I found them； that he
recollected him as “a bluff； rosy fellow。” This was the utmost
description Ada could give me。
It set me thinking so； that when Ada was asleep； I still remained
before the fire； wondering and wondering about Bleak House； and
wondering and wondering that yesterday morning should seem so
long ago。 I don’t know where my thoughts had wandered； when
they were recalled by a tap at the door。
I opened it softly； and found Miss Jellyby shivering there； with a
broken candle in a broken candlestick in one hand； and an eggcup
in the other。
“Good night！” she said； very sulkily。
“Good night！” said I。
“May I come in？” she shortly and unexpectedly asked me in the
same sulky way。
“Certainly；” said I。 “Don’t wake Miss Clare。”
She would not sit down； but stood by the fire； dipping her inky
middle finger in the eggcup； which contained vinegar； and
smearing it over the ink stains on her face； frowning； the whole
time； and looking very gloomy。
“I wish Africa was dead！” she said on a sudden。
I was going to remonstrate。
“I do！” she said。 “Don’t talk to me； Miss Summerson。 I hate it
and detest it。 It’s a beast！”
I told her she was tired； and I was sorry。 I put my hand upon
her head； and touched her forehead； and said it was hot now； but
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would be cool tomorrow。 She still stood； pouting and frowning at
me； but presently put down her eggcup； and turned softly towards
the bed where Ada lay。
“She is very pretty！” she said； with the same knitted brow； and
in the same uncivil manner。
I assented with a smile。
“An orphan。 Ain’t she？”
“Yes。”
But knows a quantity； I suppose？ Can dance； and play music；
and sing？ She can talk French； I suppose； and do geography； and
globes； and needlework； and every thing？”
“No doubt；” said I。
“I can’t；” she returned。 “I can’t do anything hardly； except
write。 I’m always writing for Ma。 I wonder you two were not
ashamed of yourselves to come in this afternoon； and see me able
to do nothing else。 It was like your ill…nature。 Yet you think
yourselves very fine； I dare say！”
I could see that the poor girl was near crying； and I resumed my
chair without speaking； and looked at her （I hope） as mildly as I
felt towards her。
“It’s disgraceful；” she said。 “You know it is。 The whole house is
disgraceful。 The children are disgraceful。 I’m disgraceful。 Pa’s
miserable； and no wonder！ Priscilla drinks—she’s always drinking。
It’s a great shame and great story of you； if you say you didn’t
smell her today。 It was as bad as a public…house； waiting at dinner；
you know it was！”
“My dear； I don’t know it；” said I。
“You do；” she said； very shortly。 “You shan’t say you don’t。 You
do！”
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“O； my dear！” said I； “if you won’t let me speak—”
“You’re speaking now。 You know you are。 Don’t tell stories；
Miss Summerson。”
“My dear；” said I； “as long as you won’t hear me out—”
“I don’t want to hear you out。”
“O yes； I think you do；” said I； “because that would be so very
unreasonable。 I did not know what you tell me； because the
servant did not come near me at dinner； but I don’t doubt what
you tell me； and I am sorry to hear it。”
“You needn’t make a merit of that；” said she。
“No； my dear；” said I。 “That would be very foolish。”
She was still standing by the bed； and now stooped down （but
still with the same discontented face） and kissed Ada。 That done；
she came softly back； and stood by the side of my chair。 Her bosom
was heaving in a distressful manner that I greatly pitied； but I
thought it better not to speak。
“I wish I was dead！” she broke out。 “I wish we were all dead。 It
would be a great deal better for us。”
In a moment afterwards； she knelt on the ground； at my side；
hid her face in my dress； passionately begged my pardon； and
wept。 I comforted her； and would have raised her； but she cried；
No； no； she wanted to stay there！
“You used to teach girls；” she said。 “If you could only have
taught me； I could have learnt from you！ I am so very miserable；
and I like you so much！”
I could not persuade her to sit by me； or to do anything but
move a ragged stool to where she was kneeling； and take that； and
still hold my dress in the same manner。 By degrees； the poor tired
girl fell asleep； and then I contrived to raise her head； so that it
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should rest on my lap； and to cover us both with shawls。 The fire
went out； and all night long she slumbered thus； before the ashy
grate。 At first I was painfully awake； and vainly tried to lose
myself； with my eyes closed； among the scenes of the day。 At
length； by slow degrees； they became indistinct and mingled。 I
began to lose the identity of the sleeper resting on me。 Now it was
Ada： now； one of my old Reading friends from whom I could not
believe I had so recently parted。 Now； it was the little mad woman
worn out with curtseying and smiling； now； some one in authority
at Bleak House。 Lastly； it was no one； and I was no one。
The purblind day was feebly struggling with the fog； when I
opened my eyes to encounter those of a dirty…faced little spectre
fixed upon me。 Peepy had scaled his crib； and crept down in his
bed…gown and cap； and was so cold that his teeth were chattering
as if he had cut them all。
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Chapter 5
A Morning Adventure
lthough the morning was raw； and although the fog still
Aseemed heavy—I say seemed； for the windows were so
encrusted with dirt； that they would have made
Midsummer sunshine dim—I was sufficiently forewarned of the
discomfort within doors at that early hour； and sufficiently curious
about London； to think it a good idea on the part of Miss Jellyby
when she proposed that we should go out for a walk。
“Ma won’t be down for ever so long；” she said； “and then it’s a
chance if breakfast’s ready for an hour afterwards； they dawdle so。
As to Pa； he gets what he can； and goes to the office。 He never has
what you would call a regular breakfast。 Priscilla leaves him out
the loaf and some milk； when there is any； over night。 Sometimes
there isn’t any milk； and sometimes the cat drinks it。 But I’m
afraid you must be tired； Miss Summerson； and perhaps you
would rather go to bed。”
“I am not at all tired； my dear；” said I； “and would much prefer
to go out。”
“If you’re sure you would；” returned Miss Jellyby； “I’ll get my
things on。”
Ada said
