波波小说

第74部分（第1页）

tep　on　that　grass…grown　track；　the　water　running　in　the　vale　was　the　one　lulling　sound　of　the　hour　and　scene；　we　might　well　then　start　when　a　gay　voice；　sweet　as　a　silver　bell；　exclaimed—

“Good　evening；　Mr。　Rivers。　And　good　evening；　old　Carlo。　Your　dog　is　quicker　to　recognise　his　friends　than　you　are；　sir；　he　pricked　his　ears　and　wagged　his　tail　when　I　was　at　the　bottom　of　the　field；　and　you　have　your　back　towards　me　now。”

It　was　true。　Though　Mr。　Rivers　had　started　at　the　first　of　those　musical　accents；　as　if　a　thunderbolt　had　split　a　cloud　over　his　head；　he　stood　yet；　at　the　close　of　the　sentence；　in　the　same　attitude　in　which　the　speaker　had　surprised　him—his　arm　resting　on　the　gate；　his　face　directed　towards　the　west。　He　turned　at　last；　with　measured　deliberation。　A　vision；　as　it　seemed　to　me；　had　risen　at　his　side。　There　appeared；　within　three　feet　of　him；　a　form　clad　in　pure　white—a　youthful；　graceful　form：　full；　yet　fine　in　contour；　and　when；　after　bending　to　caress　Carlo；　it　lifted　up　its　head；　and　threw　back　a　long　veil；　there　bloomed　under　his　glance　a　face　of　perfect　beauty。　Perfect　beauty　is　a　strong　expression；　but　I　do　not　retrace　or　qualify　it：　as　sweet　features　as　ever　the　temperate　clime　of　Albion　moulded；　as　pure　hues　of　rose　and　lily　as　ever　her　humid　gales　and　vapoury　skies　generated　and　screened；　justified；　in　this　instance；　the　term。　No　charm　was　wanting；　no　defect　was　perceptible；　the　young　girl　had　regular　and　delicate　lineaments；　eyes　shaped　and　coloured　as　we　see　them　in　lovely　pictures；　large；　and　dark；　and　full；　the　long　and　shadowy　eyelash　which　encircles　a　fine　eye　with　so　soft　a　fascination；　the　pencilled　brow　which　gives　such　clearness；　the　white　smooth　forehead；　which　adds　such　repose　to　the　livelier　beauties　of　tint　and　ray；　the　cheek　oval；　fresh；　and　smooth；　the　lips；　fresh　too；　ruddy；　healthy；　sweetly　formed；　the　even　and　gleaming　teeth　without　flaw；　the　small　dimpled　chin；　the　ornament　of　rich；　plenteous　tresses—all　advantages；　in　short；　which；　bined；　realise　the　ideal　of　beauty；　were　fully　hers。　I　wondered；　as　I　looked　at　this　fair　creature：　I　admired　her　with　my　whole　heart。　Nature　had　surely　formed　her　in　a　partial　mood；　and；　forgetting　her　usual　stinted　step…mother　dole　of　gifts；　had　endowed　this；　her　darling；　with　a　grand…dame’s　bounty。

What　did　St。　John　Rivers　think　of　this　earthly　angel？　I　naturally　asked　myself　that　question　as　I　saw　him　turn　to　her　and　look　at　her；　and；　as　naturally；　I　sought　the　answer　to　the　inquiry　in　his　countenance。　He　had　already　withdrawn　his　eye　from　the　Peri；　and　was　looking　at　a　humble　tuft　of　daisies　which　grew　by　the　wicket。

“A　lovely　evening；　but　late　for　you　to　be　out　alone；”　he　said；　as　he　crushed　the　snowy　heads　of　the　closed　flowers　with　his　foot。

“Oh；　I　only　came　home　from　S…”　（she　mentioned　the　name　of　a　large　town　some　twenty　miles　distant）　“this　afternoon。　Papa　told　me　you　had　opened　your　school；　and　that　the　new　mistress　was　e；　and　so　I　put　on　my　bon　after　tea；　and　ran　up　the　valley　to　see　her：　this　is　she？”　pointing　to　me。

“It　is；”　said　St。　John。

“Do　you　think　you　shall　like　Morton？”　she　asked　of　me；　with　a　direct　and　naive　simplicity　of　tone　and　manner；　pleasing；　if　child…like。

“I　hope　I　shall。　I　have　many　inducements　to　do　so。”

“Did　you　find　your　scholars　as　attentive　as　you　expected？”

“Quite。”

“Do　you　like　your　house？”

“Very　much。”

“Have　I　furnished　it　nicely？”

“Very　nicely；　indeed。”

“And　made　a　good　choice　of　an　attendant　for　you　in　Alice　Wood？”

“You　have　indeed。　She　is　teachable　and　handy。”　（This　then；　I　thought；　is　Miss　Oliver；　the　heiress；　favoured；　it　seems；　in　the　gifts　of　fortune；　as　well　as　in　those　of　nature！　What　happy　bination　of　the　plas　presided　over　her　birth；　I　wonder？）

“I　shall　e　up　and　help　you　to　teach　sometimes；”　she　added。　“It　will　be　a　change　for　me　to　visit　you　now　and　then；　and　I　like　a　change。　Mr。　Rivers；　I　have　been　SO　gay　during　my　stay　at　S…。　　night；　or　rather　this　morning；　I　was　dancing　till　two　o’clock。　The—th　regiment　are　stationed　there　since　the　riots；　and　the　officers　are　the　most　agreeable　men　in　the　world：　they　put　all　our　young　knife…grinders　and　scissor　merchants　to　shame。”

It　seemed　to　me　that　Mr。　St。　John’s　under　lip　protruded；　and　his　upper　lip　curled　a　moment。　His　mouth　certainly　looked　a　good　deal　pressed；　and　the　lower　part　of　his　face　unusually　stern　and　square；　as　the　laughing　girl　gave　him　this　information。　He　lifted　his　gaze；　too；　from　the　daisies；　and　turned　it　on　her。　An　unsmiling；　a　searching；　a　meaning　gaze　it　was。　She　answered　it　with　a　second　laugh；　and　laughter　well　became　her　youth；　her　roses；　her　dimples；　her　bright　eyes。

As　he　stood；　mute　and　grave；　she　again　fell　to　caressing　Carlo。　“Poor　Carlo　loves　me；”　said　she。　“He　is　not　stern　and　distant　to　his　friends；　and　if　he　could　speak；　he　would　not　be　silent。”

As　she　patted　the　dog’s　head；　bending　with　native　grace　before　his　young　and　austere　master；　I　saw　a　glow　rise　to　that　master’s　face。　I　saw　his　solemn　eye　melt　with　sudden　fire；　and　flicker　with　resistless　emotion。　Flushed　and　kindled　thus；　he　looked　nearly　as　beautiful　for　a　man　as　she　for　a　woman。　His　chest　heaved　once；　as　if　his　large　heart；　weary　of　despotic　constriction；　had　expanded；　despite　the　will；　and　made　a　vigorous　bound　for　the　attainment　of　liberty。　But　he　curbed　it；　I　think；　as　a　resolute　rider　would　curb　a　rearing　steed。　He　responded　neither　by　word　nor　movement　to　the　gentle　advances　made　him。

“Papa　says　you　never　e　to　see　us　now；”　continued　Miss　Oliver；　looking　up。　“You　are　quite　a　stranger　at　Vale　Hall。　He　is　alone　this　evening；　and　not　very　well：　will　you　return　with　me　and　visit　him？”

“It　is　not　a　seasonable　hour　to　intrude　on　Mr。　Oliver；”　answered　St。　John。

“Not　a　seasonable　hour！　But　I　declare　it　is。　It　is　just　the　hour　when　papa　most　wants　pany：　when　the　works　are　closed　and　he　has　no　business　to　occupy　him。　Now；　Mr。　Rivers；　do　e。　Why　are　you　so　very　shy；　and　so　very　sombre？”　She　filled　up　the　hiatus　his　silence　left　by　a　reply　of　her　own。

“I　forgot！”　she　exclaimed；　shaking　her　beautiful　curled　head；　as　if　shocked　at　herself。　“I　am　so　giddy　and　thoughtless！　Do　excuse　me。　It　had　slipped　my　memory　that　you　have　good　reasons　to　be　indisposed　for　joining　in　my　chatter。　Diana　and　Mary　have　left　you；　and　Moor　House　is　shut　up；　and　you　are　so　lonely。　I　am　sure　I　pity　you。　Do　e　and　see　papa。”

“Not　to…night；　Miss　Rosamond；　not　to…night。”

Mr。　St。　John　spoke　almost　like　an　automaton：　himself　only　knew　the　effort　it　cost　him　thus　to　refuse。

“Well；　if　you　are　so　obstinate；　I　will　leave　you；　for　I　dare　not　stay　any　longer：　the　dew　begins　to　fall。　Good　evening！”

She　held　out　her　hand。　He　just　touched　it。　“Good　evening！”　he　repeated；　in　a　voice　low　and　hollow　as　an　echo。　She　turned；　but　in　a　moment　returned。

“Are　you　well？”　she　asked。　Well　might　she　put　the　question：　his　face　was　blanched　as　her　gown。

“Quite　well；”　he　enunciated；　and；　with　a　bow；　he　left　the　gate。　She　went　one　way；　he　another。　She　turned　twice　to　gaze　after　him　as　she　tripped　fairy…like　down　the　field；　he；　as　he　strode　firmly　across；　never　turned　at　all。

This　spectacle　of　another’s　suffering　and　sacrifice　rapt　my　thoughts　from　exclusive　meditation　on　my　own。　Diana　Rivers　had　designated　her　brother　“inexorable　as　death。”　She　had　not　exaggerated。

Chapter　32

I　continued　the　labours　of　the　village…school　as　actively　and　faithfully　as　I　could。　It　was　truly　hard　work　at　first。　Some　time　elapsed　before；　with　all　my　efforts；　I　could　prehend　my　scholars　and　their　nature。　Wholly　untaught；　with　faculties　quite　torpid；　they　seemed　to　me　hopelessly　dull；　and；　at　first　sight；　all　dull　alike：　but　I　soon　found　I　was　mistaken。　There　was　a　difference　amongst　them　as　amongst　the　educated；　and　when　I　got　to　know　them；　and　they　me；　this　difference　rapidly　developed　itself。　Their　amazement　at　me；　my　language；　my　rules；　and　ways；　once　subsided；　I　found　some　of　these　heavy…looking；　gaping　rustics　wake　up　into　sharp…witted　girls　enough。　Many　showed　themselves　obliging；　and　amiable　too；　and　I　discovered　amongst　them　not　a　few　examples　of　natural　politeness；　and　innate　self…respect；　as　well　as　of　excellent　capacity；　that　won　both　my　goodwill　and　my　admiration。　These　soon　took　a　pleasure　in　doing　their　work　well；　in　keeping　their　persons　neat；　in　learning　their　tasks　regularly；　in　acquiring　quiet　and　orderly　manners。　The　rapidity　of　their　progress；　in　some　instances；　was　even　surprising；　and　an　honest　and　happy　pride　I　took　in　it：　besides；　I　began　personally　to　like　some　of　the　best　girls；　and　they　liked　me。　I　had　amongst　my　scholars　several　farmers’　daughters：　young　women　grown；　almost。　These　could　already　read；　write；　and　sew；　and　to　them　I　taught　the　elements　of　grammar；　geography；　history；　and　the　finer　kinds　of　needlework。　I　found　estimable　characters　amongst　them—characters　desirous　of　information　and　disposed　for　improvement—with　whom　I　passed　many　a　pleasant　evening　hour　in　their　own　homes。　Their　parents　then　（the　farmer　and　his　wife）　loaded　me　with　attentions。　There　was　an　enjoyment　in　accepting　their　simple　kindness；　and　in　repaying　it　by　a　consideration—a　scrupulous　regard　to　their　feelings—to　which　they　were　not；　perhaps；　at　all　times　accustomed；　and　which　both　charmed　and　benefited　them；　because；　while　it　elevated　them　in　their　own　eyes；　it　made　them　emulous　to　merit　the　deferential　treatment　they　received。

I　felt　I　became　a　favourite　in　the　neighbourhood。　Whenever　I　went　out；　I　heard　on　all　sides　cordial　salutations；　and　was　weled　with　friendly　smiles。　To　live　amidst　general　regard；　though　it　be　but　the　regard　of　working　people；　is　like　“sitting　in　sunshine；　calm　and　sweet；”　serene　inward　feelings　bud　and　bloom　under　the　ray。　At　this　period　of　my　life；　my　heart　far　oftener　swelled　with　thankfulness　than　sank　with　dejection：　and　yet；　reader；　to　tell　you　all；　in　the　midst　of　this　calm；　this　useful　existence—after　a　day　passed　in　honourable　exertion　amongst　my　scholars；　an　evening　spent　in　drawing　or　reading　contentedly　alone—I　used　to　rush　into　strange　dreams　at　night：　dreams　many…coloured；　agitated；　full　of　the　ideal；　the　stirring；　the　stormy—dreams　where；　amidst　unusual　scenes；　charged　with　adventure；　with　agitating　risk　and　romantic　chance；　I　still　again　and　again　met　Mr。　Rochester；　always　at　some　exciting　crisis；　and　then　the　sense　of　being　in　his　arms；　hearing　his　voice；　meeting　his　eye；　touching　his　hand　and　cheek；　loving　him；　being　loved　by　him—the　hope　of　passing　a　lifetime　at　his　side；　would　be　renewed；　with　all　its　first　force　and　fire。　Then　I　awoke。　Then　I　recalled　where　I　was；　and　how　situated。　Then　I　rose　up　on　my　curtainless　bed；　trembling　and　quivering；　and　then　the　still；　dark　night　witnessed　the　convulsion　of　despair；　and　heard　the　burst　of　passion。　By　nine　o’clock　the　next　morning　I　was　punctually　opening　the　school；　tranquil；　settled；　prepared　for　the　steady　duties　of　the　day。

Rosamond　Oliver　kept　her　word　in　ing　to　visit　me。　Her　call　at　the　school　was　generally　made　in　the　course　of　her　morning　ride。　She　would　canter　up　to　the　door　on　her　pony；　followed　by　a　mounted　livery　servant。　Anything　more　exquisite　than　her　appearance；　in　her　purple　habit；　with　her　Amazon’s　cap　of　black　velvet　placed　gracefully　ab

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