bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第223节
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to Quebec and Malta for information on the subject of young
Woolwich。 “And a nice brother he is—half brother I mean to say。
For he’s too old to be your boy； ma’am。”
“I can certify at all events； that he is not anybody else’s；”
returns Mrs Bagnet； laughing。
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“Well； you do surprise me！ Yet he’s like you； there’s no denying。
Lord； he’s wonderfully like you！ But about what you may call the
brow； you know； there his father comes out！” Mr Bucket compares
the faces with one eye shut up； while Mr Bagnet smokes in stolid
satisfaction。
This is an opportunity for Mrs Bagnet to inform him； that the
boy is George’s godson。
“George’s godson； is he？” rejoins Mr Bucket； with extreme
cordiality。 I must shake hands over again with George’s godson。
Godfather and godson do credit to one another。 And what do you
intend to make of him； ma’am？ Does he show any turn for any
musical instrument？”
Mr Bagnet suddenly interposes； “Plays the Fife。 Beautiful。”
“Would you believe it； governor；” says Mr Bucket； struck by the
coincidence； “that when I was a boy I played the fife myself？ Not
in a scientific way； as I expect he does； but by ear。 Lord bless you！
British Grenadiers—there’s a tune to warm an Englishman up？
Could you give us British Grenadiers； my fine fellow？”
Nothing could be more acceptable to the little circle than this
call upon young Woolwich； who immediately fetches his fife and
performs the stirring melody： during which performance Mr
Bucket； much enlivened； beats time； and never fails to come in
sharp with the burden； “Brit Ish Gra…a…anadeers！” In short； he
shows so much musical taste； that Mr Bagnet actually takes his
pipe from his lips to express his conviction that he is a singer。 Mr
Bucket receives the harmonious impeachment so modestly：
confessing how that he did once chaunt a little； for the expression
of the feelings of his own bosom； and with no presumptuous idea
of entertaining his friends： that he is asked to sing。 Not to be
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behindhand in the sociality of the evening； he complies； and gives
them “Believe me if all those endearing young charms。” This
ballad； he informs Mrs Bagnet； he considers to have been his most
powerful ally in moving the heart of Mrs Bucket when a maiden；
and inducing her to approach the altar—Mr Bucket’s own words
are； to come up to the scratch。
This sparkling stranger is such a new and agreeable feature in
the evening； that Mr George； who testified no great emotions of
pleasure on his entrance； begins； in spite of himself； to be rather
proud of him。 He is so friendly； is a man of so many resources； and
so easy to get on with； that it is something to have made him
known there。 Mr Bagnet becomes； after another pipe； so sensible
of the value of his acquaintance； that he solicits the honour of his
company on the old girl’s next birthday。 If anything can more
closely cement and consolidate the esteem which Mr Bucket has
formed for the family； it is the discovery of the nature of the
occasion。 He drinks to Mrs Bagnet with a warmth approaching to
rapture； engages himself for that day twelvemonth more than
thankfully； makes a memorandum of the day in a large black
pocket…book with a girdle to it； and breathes a hope that Mrs
Bucket and Mrs Bagnet may before then become； in a manner；
sisters。 As he says himself； what is public life without private ties？
He is in his humble way a public man； but it is not in that sphere
that he finds happiness。 No； it must be sought within the confines
of domestic bliss。
It is natural； under these circumstances； that he； in his turn；
should remember the friend to whom he is indebted for so
promising an acquaintance。 And he does。 He keeps very close to
him。 Whatever the subject of the conversation； he keeps a tender
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eye upon him。 He waits to walk home with him。 He is interested in
his very boots； and observes even them attentively； as Mr George
sits smoking cross…legged in the chimney corner。
At length； Mr George rises to depart。 At the same moment Mr
Bucket； with the secret sympathy of friendship； also rises。 He
dotes upon the children to the last； and remembers the
commission he has undertaken for an absent friend。
“Respecting that second…hand wiolinceller； governor—could
you recommend me such a thing？”
“Scores；” says Mr Bagnet。
“I am obliged to you；” returns Mr Bucket； squeezing his hand。
“You’re a friend in need。 A good tone； mind you！ My friend is a
regular dab at it。 Ecod； he saws away at Mo…zart and Handel； and
the rest of the big…wigs； like a thorough workman。 And you
needn’t；” says Mr Bucket； in a considerate and private voice； “you
needn’t commit yourself to too low a figure； governor。 I don’t want
to pay too large a price for my friend； but I want you to have your
proper percentage； and be remunerated for your loss of time。 That
is but fair。 Every man must live； and ought to it。”
Mr Bagnet shakes his head at the old girl； to the effect that they
have found a jewel of price。
“Suppose I was to give you a look in； say at half…arter ten
tomorrow morning。 Perhaps you could name the figures of a few
wiolincellers of a good tone？” says Mr Bucket。
Nothing easier。 Mr and Mrs Bagnet both engage to have the
requisite information ready； and even hint to each other at the
practicability of having a small stock collected there for approval。
“Thank you；” says Mr Bucket； “thank you。 Good night； ma’am。
Good night； governor。 Good night； darlings。 I am much obliged to
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you for one of the pleasantest evenings I ever spent in my life。”
They； on the contrary； are much obliged to him for the pleasure
he has given them in his company； and so they part with many
expressions of good…will on both sides。 “Now； George； old boy；”
says Mr Bucket； taking his arm at the shop door； “come along。’“ As
they go down the little street； and the Bagnets pause for a minute
looking after them； Mrs Bagnet remarks to the worthy Lignum
that Mr Bucket “almost clings to George like； and seems to be
really fond of him。”
The neighbouring streets being narrow and ill paved； it is a
little inconvenient to walk there two abreast and arm in arm。 Mr
George therefore soon proposes to walk singly。 But Mr Bucket；
who cannot make up his mind to relinquish his friendly hold；
replies。 “Wait half a minute； George。 I should wish to speak to you
first。” Immediately afterwards； he twists him into a public…house
and into a parlour； where he confronts him； and claps his own
back against the door。
“Now； George；” says Mr Bucket。 “Duty is duty； and friendship
is friendship。 I never want the two to clash； if I can help it。 I have
endeavoured to make things pleasant tonight； and I put it to you
whether I have done it or not。 You must consider yourself in
custody； George。”
“Custody？ What for？” returns the trooper； thunderstruck。
“Now； George；” says Mr Bucket； urging a sensible view of the
case upon him with his fat forefinger； “duty； as you know
