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As the manager of the Performance sits before the curtain on the boards and looks into the Fair, a feeling of profound melancholy comes over him in his survey of the bustling place. There is a great quantity of eating and drinking, making love and jilting, laughing and the contrary, smoking, cheating, fighting, dancing and fiddling; there are bullies pushing about, bucks ogling the women, knaves picking pockets, policemen on the look-out, quacks (OTHER quacks, plague take them!) bawling in front of their booths, and yokels looking up at the tinselled dancers and poor old rouged tumblers, while the light-fingered folk are operating upon their pockets behind. Yes, this is VANITY FAIR; not a moral place certainly; nor a merry one, though very noisy. Look at the faces of the actors and buffoons when they come off from their business; and Tom Fool washing the paint off his cheeks before he sits down to dinner with his wife and the little Jack Puddings behind the canvas. The curtain will be up presently, and he will be turning over head and heels, and crying, "How are you?"

《名利场》是英国十九世纪小说家萨克雷的成名作品，也是他生平著作里最经得起时间考验的杰作。故事取材于很热闹的英国十九世纪中上层社会。当时国家强盛，工商业发达，由榨压殖民地或剥削劳工而发财的富商大贾正主宰着这个社会，英法两国争权的战争也在这时响起了炮声。中上层社会各式各等人物，都忙着争权夺位，争名求利，所谓“天下攘攘，皆为利往，天下熙熙，皆为利来”，名位、权势、利禄，原是相连相通的。
内容简介

　　故事主角是一个机灵乖巧的漂亮姑娘。她尝过贫穷的滋味，一心要掌握自己的命运，摆脱困境。她不择手段，凭谄媚奉承、走小道儿钻后门，飞上高枝。作为陪衬的人物是她同窗女友、一个富商的女儿。她懦弱温柔，驯顺地随命运播弄。从贫贱进入富裕的道路很不平稳！富家女的运途亦多坎坷，两人此起彼落的遭遇，构成一个引人关怀又动人情感的故事。穿插的人物形形色色，都神情毕肖。萨克雷富讥智，善讽刺，《名利场》是逗趣而又启人深思的小说。

　　萨克雷是东印度公司收税员的儿子，受过高等教育，自己却没什么财产。他学法律、学画都不成功，一连串失败的经历，只使他熟悉了中上层社会的各个阶层。《名利场》的背景和人物，都是他所熟悉的。

　　萨克雷写小说力求客观，不以他本人的喜爱或愿望而对人物、对事实有所遮饰和歪曲。人情的好恶，他面面俱到，不遮掩善良人物的缺点，也不遗漏狡猾、鄙俗人的一节可取。全部故事里没有一个英雄人物，所以《名利场》的副题是《没有英雄的故事》，就是现代所谓“非英雄”的小说。这一点，也是《名利场》的创新
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CHAPTER I Chiswick Mall While the present century was in its teens, and on one sunshiny morning in June, there drove up to the great iron gate of Miss Pinkerton's academy for young ladies, on Chiswick Mall, a large family coach, with two fat horses in blazing harness, driven by a fat coachman in a three-cornered hat and wig, at the rate of four miles an hour. A black servant, who reposed on the box beside the fat coachman, uncurled his bandy legs as soon as the equipage drew up opposite Miss Pinkerton's shining brass plate, and as he pulled the bell at least a score of young heads were seen peering out of the narrow windows of the stately old brick house. Nay, the acute observer might have recognized the little red nose of good-natured Miss Jemima Pinkerton herself, rising over some geranium pots in the window of that lady's own drawing-room. "It is Mrs. Sedley's coach, sister," said Miss Jemima. "Sambo, the black servant, has just rung the bell; and the coachman has a new red waistcoat." "Have you completed all the necessary preparations incident to Miss Sedley's departure, Miss Jemima?" asked Miss Pinkerton herself, that majestic lady; the Semiramis of Hammersmith, the friend of Doctor Johnson, the correspondent of Mrs. Chapone herself. "The girls were up at four this morning, packing her trunks, sister," replied Miss Jemima; "we have made her a bow-pot." "Say a bouquet, sister Jemima, 'tis more genteel." "Well, a booky as big almost as a haystack; I have put up two bottles of the gillyflower water for Mrs. Sedley, and the receipt for making it, in Amelia's box." "And I trust, Miss Jemima, you have made a copy of Miss Sedley's account. This is it, is it? Very good--ninety-three pounds, four shillings. Be kind enough to address it to John Sedley, Esquire, and to seal this billet which I have written to his lady." In Miss Jemima's eyes an autograph letter of her sister, Miss Pinkerton, was an object of as deep veneration as would have been a letter from a sovereign. Only when her pupils quitted the establishment, or when they were about to be married, and once, when poor Miss Birch died of the scarlet fever, was Miss Pinkerton known to write personally to the parents of her pupils; and it was Jemima's opinion that if anything could console Mrs. Birch for her daughter's loss, it would be that pious and eloquent composition in which Miss Pinkerton announced the event. In the present instance Miss Pinkerton's "billet" was to the following effect:-- The Mall, Chiswick, June 15, 18 MADAM,--After her six years' residence at the Mall, I have the honour and happiness of presenting Miss Amelia Sedley to her parents, as a young lady not unworthy to occupy a fitting position in their polished and refined circle. Those virtues which characterize the young English gentlewoman, those accomplishments which become her birth and station, will not be found wanting in the amiable Miss Sedley, whose INDUSTRY and OBEDIENCE have endeared her to her instructors, and whose delightful sweetness of temper has charmed her AGED and her YOUTHFUL companions. In music, in dancing, in orthography, in every variety of embroidery and needlework, she will be found to have realized her friends' fondest wishes. In geography there is still much to be desired; and a careful and undeviating use of the backboard, for four hours daily during the next three years, is recommended as necessary to the acquirement of that dignified DEPORTMENT AND CARRIAGE, so requisite for every young lady of FASHION. In the principles of religion and morality, Miss Sedley will be found worthy of an establishment which has been honoured by the presence of THE GREAT LEXICOGRAPHER, and the patronage of the admirable Mrs. Chapone. In leaving the Mall, Miss Amelia carries with her the hearts of her companions, and the affectionate regards of her mistress, who has the honour to subscribe herself, Madam, Your most obliged humble servant, BARBARA PINKERTON P.S.--Miss Sharp accompanies Miss Sedley. It is particularly requested that Miss Sharp's stay in Russell Square may not exceed ten days. The family of distinction with whom she is engaged, desire to avail themselves of her services as soon as possible. This letter completed, Miss Pinkerton proceeded to write her own name, and Miss Sedley's, in the fly-leaf of a Johnson's Dictionary-- the interesting work which she invariably presented to her scholars, on their departure from the Mall. On the cover was inserted a copy of "Lines addressed to a young lady on quitting Miss Pinkerton's school, at the Mall; by the late revered Doctor Samuel Johnson." In fact, the Lexicographer's name was always on the lips of this majestic woman, and a visit he had paid to her was the cause of her reputation and her fortune. Being commanded by her elder sister to get "the Dictionary" from the cupboard, Miss Jemima had extracted two copies of the book from the receptacle in question. When Miss Pinkerton had finished the inscription in the first, Jemima, with rather a dubious and timid air, handed her the second. "For whom is this, Miss Jemima?" said Miss Pinkerton, with awful coldness. "For Becky Sharp," answered Jemima, trembling very much, and blushing over her withered face and neck, as she turned her back on her sister. "For Becky Sharp: she's going too." "MISS JEMIMA!" exclaimed Miss Pinkerton, in the largest capitals. "Are you in your senses? Replace the Dixonary in the closet, and never venture to take such a liberty in future." "Well, sister, it's only two-and-ninepence, and poor Becky will be miserable if she don't get one." "Send Miss Sedley instantly to me," said Miss Pinkerton. And so venturing not to say another word, poor Jemima trotted off, exceedingly flurried and nervous. Miss Sedley's papa was a merchant in London, and a man of some wealth; whereas Miss Sharp was an articled pupil, for whom Miss Pinkerton had done, as she thought, quite enough, without conferring upon her at parting the high honour of the Dixonary. Although schoolmistresses' letters are to be trusted no more nor less than churchyard epitaphs; yet, as it sometimes happens that a person departs this life who is really deserving of all the praises the stone cutter carves over his bones; who IS a good Christian, a good parent, child, wife, or husband; who actually DOES leave a disconsolate family to mourn his loss; so in academies of the male and female sex it occurs every now and then that the pupil is fully worthy of the praises bestowed by the disinterested instructor. Now, Miss Amelia Sedley was a young lady of this singular species; and deserved not only all that Miss Pinkerton said in her praise, but had many charming qualities which that pompous old Minerva of a woman could not see, from the differences of rank and age between her pupil and herself. For she could not only sing like a lark, or a Mrs. Billington, and dance like Hillisberg or Parisot; and embroider beautifully; and spell as well as a Dixonary itself; but she had such a kindly, smiling, tender, gentle, generous heart of her own, as won the love of everybody who came near her, from Minerva herself down to the poor girl in the scullery, and the one-eyed tart-woman's daughter, who was permitted to vend her wares once a week to the young ladies in the Mall. She had twelve intimate and bosom friends out of the twenty-four young ladies. Even envious Miss Briggs never spoke ill of her; high and mighty Miss Saltire (Lord Dexter's granddaughter) allowed that her figure was genteel; and as for Miss Swartz, the rich woolly-haired mulatto from St. Kitt's, on the day Amelia went away, she was in such a passion of tears that they were obliged to send for Dr. Floss, and half tipsify her with salvolatile. Miss Pinkerton's attachment was, as may be supposed from the high position and eminent virtues of that lady, calm and dignified; but Miss Jemima had already whimpered several times at the idea of Amelia's departure; and, but for fear of her sister, would have gone off in downright hysterics, like the heiress (who paid double) of St. Kitt's. Such luxury of grief, however, is only allowed to parlour-boarders. Honest Jemima had all the bills, and the washing, and the mending, and the puddings, and the plate and crockery, and the servants to superintend. But why speak about her? It is probable that we shall not hear of her again from this moment to the end of time, and that when the great filigree iron gates are once closed on her, she and her awful sister will never issue therefrom into this little world of history. But as we are to see a great deal of Amelia, there is no harm in saying, at the outset of our acquaintance, that she was a dear little creature; and a great mercy it is, both in life and in novels, which (and the latter especially) abound in villains of the most sombre sort, that we are to have for a constant companion so guileless and good-natured a person. As she is not a heroine, there is no need to describe her person; indeed I am afraid that her nose was rather short than otherwise, and her cheeks a great deal too round and red for a heroine; but her face blushed with rosy health, and her lips with the freshest of smiles, and she had a pair of eyes which sparkled with the brightest and honestest good-humour, except indeed when they filled with tears, and that was a great deal too often; for the silly thing would cry over a dead canary-bird; or over a mouse, that the cat haply had seized upon; or over the end of a novel, were it ever so stupid; and as for saying an unkind word to her, were any persons hard-hearted enough to do so--why, so much the worse for them. Even Miss Pinkerton, that austere and godlike woman, ceased scolding her after the first time, and though she no more comprehended sensibility than she did Algebra, gave all masters and teachers particular orders to treat Miss Sedley with the utmost gentleness, as harsh treatment was injurious to her. So that when the day of departure came, between her two customs of laughing and crying, Miss Sedley was greatly puzzled how to act. She was glad to go home, and yet most woefully sad at leaving school. For three days before, little Laura Martin, the orphan, followed her about like a little dog. She had to make and receive at least fourteen presents--to make fourteen solemn promises of writing every week: "Send my letters under cover to my grandpapa, the Earl of Dexter," said Miss Saltire (who, by the way, was rather shabby). "Never mind the postage, but write every day, you dear darling," said the impetuous and woolly-headed, but generous and affectionate Miss Swartz; and the orphan little Laura Martin (who was just in round-hand), took her friend's hand and said, looking up in her face wistfully, "Amelia, when I write to you I shall call you Mamma." All which details, I have no doubt, JONES, who reads this book at his Club, will pronounce to be excessively foolish, trivial, twaddling, and ultra-sentimental. Yes; I can see Jones at this minute (rather flushed with his joint of mutton and half pint of wine), taking out his pencil and scoring under the words "foolish, twaddling," &c., and adding to them his own remark of "QUITE TRUE." Well, he is a lofty man of genius, and admires the great and heroic in life and novels; and so had better take warning and go elsewhere. Well, then. The flowers, and the presents, and the trunks, and bonnet-boxes of Miss Sedley having been arranged by Mr. Sambo in the carriage, together with a very small and weather-beaten old cow's- skin trunk with Miss Sharp's card neatly nailed upon it, which was delivered by Sambo with a grin, and packed by the coachman with a corresponding sneer--the hour for parting came; and the grief of that moment was considerably lessened by the admirable discourse which Miss Pinkerton addressed to her pupil. Not that the parting speech caused Amelia to philosophise, or that it armed her in any way with a calmness, the result of argument; but it was intolerably dull, pompous, and tedious; and having the fear of her schoolmistress greatly before her eyes, Miss Sedley did not venture, in her presence, to give way to any ebullitions of private grief. A seed-cake and a bottle of wine were produced in the drawing-room, as on the solemn occasions of the visits of parents, and these refreshments being partaken of, Miss Sedley was at liberty to depart. "You'll go in and say good-by to Miss Pinkerton, Becky!" said Miss Jemima to a young lady of whom nobody took any notice, and who was coming downstairs with her own bandbox. "I suppose I must," said Miss Sharp calmly, and much to the wonder of Miss Jemima; and the latter having knocked at the door, and receiving permission to come in, Miss Sharp advanced in a very unconcerned manner, and said in French, and with a perfect accent, "Mademoiselle, je viens vous faire mes adieux." Miss Pinkerton did not understand French; she only directed those who did: but biting her lips and throwing up her venerable and Roman-nosed head (on the top of which figured a large and solemn turban), she said, "Miss Sharp, I wish you a good morning." As the Hammersmith Semiramis spoke, she waved one hand, both by way of adieu, and to give Miss Sharp an opportunity of shaking one of the fingers of the hand which was left out for that purpose. Miss Sharp only folded her own hands with a very frigid smile and bow, and quite declined to accept the proffered honour; on which Semiramis tossed up her turban more indignantly than ever. In fact, it was a little battle between the young lady and the old one, and the latter was worsted. "Heaven bless you, my child," said she, embracing Amelia, and scowling the while over the girl's shoulder at Miss Sharp. "Come away, Becky," said Miss Jemima, pulling the young woman away in great alarm, and the drawing-room door closed upon them for ever. Then came the struggle and parting below. Words refuse to tell it. All the servants were there in the hall--all the dear friend--all the young ladies--the dancing-master who had just arrived; and there was such a scuffling, and hugging, and kissing, and crying, with the hysterical YOOPS of Miss Swartz, the parlour-boarder, from her room, as no pen can depict, and as the tender heart would fain pass over. The embracing was over; they parted--that is, Miss Sedley parted from her friends. Miss Sharp had demurely entered the carriage some minutes before. Nobody cried for leaving HER. Sambo of the bandy legs slammed the carriage door on his young weeping mistress. He sprang up behind the carriage. "Stop!" cried Miss Jemima, rushing to the gate with a parcel. "It's some sandwiches, my dear," said she to Amelia. "You may be hungry, you know; and Becky, Becky Sharp, here's a book for you that my sister--that is, I--Johnson's Dixonary, you know; you mustn't leave us without that. Good-by. Drive on, coachman. God bless you!" And the kind creature retreated into the garden, overcome with emotion. But, lo! and just as the coach drove off, Miss Sharp put her pale face out of the window and actually flung the book back into the garden. This almost caused Jemima to faint with terror. "Well, I never"-- said she--"what an audacious"--Emotion prevented her from completing either sentence. The carriage rolled away; the great gates were closed; the bell rang for the dancing lesson. The world is before the two young ladies; and so, farewell to Chiswick Mall. 契息克林荫道 当时我们这世纪①刚开始了十几年。在六月里的一天早上，天气晴朗，契息克林荫道上平克顿女子学校的大铁门前面来了一辆宽敞的私人马车。拉车的两匹肥马套着雪亮的马具，肥胖的车夫戴了假头发和三角帽子，赶车子的速度不过一小时四哩。胖子车夫的旁边坐着一个当差的黑人，马车在女学堂发光的铜牌子前面一停下来，他就伸开一双罗圈腿，走下来按铃。这所气象森严的旧房子是砖砌的，窗口很窄，黑人一按铃，就有二十来个小姑娘从窗口探出头来。连那好性子的吉米玛·平克顿小姐也给引出来了。眼睛尖点儿的人准能看见她在自己客厅的窗户前面，她的红鼻子恰好凑在那一盆盆的拢牛儿花上面。 　　-------- 　　①指十九世纪。 　　吉米玛小姐说：“姐姐，赛特笠太太的马车来了。那个叫三菩的黑佣人刚刚按过铃。马车夫还穿了新的红背心呢。” 　　“赛特笠小姐离校以前的必要手续办好没有，吉米玛小姐？”说话的是一位威风凛凛的女士，也就是平克顿小姐本人。她算得上海默斯密士这一带地方的赛米拉米斯①，又是约翰逊博士②的朋友，并且经常和夏博恩太太③通信。 　　吉米玛小姐答道：“女孩子们清早四点钟就起来帮她理箱子了，姐姐。我们还给她扎了一捆花儿。” 　　“妹妹，用字文雅点儿，说一束花。” 　　“好的。这一簇花儿大得像个草堆儿。我还包了两瓶子丁香花露④送给赛特笠太太，连方子都在爱米丽亚箱子里。” 　　-------- 　　①传说是巴比伦古国的皇后，她的丈夫尼纳斯死后由她当国（也有说丈夫是她谋死的），文治武功都很显赫，曾建立许多城池。 　　②塞谬尔·约翰逊（Samuel　Johnson，1709—84），十八世纪英国文坛上的首脑人物，曾经独力编纂英文字典。 　　③夏博恩太太（Hester　Chapone，1727—1801），当时的女学究，有过几种著作。 　　④gilly　flower　water，用来洗涤膏药遗留在皮肤上的污垢。 　　“吉米玛小姐，我想你已经把赛特笠小姐的费用单子抄出来了。这就是吗？很好，共是九十三镑四先令。请你在信封上写上约翰·赛特笠先生的名字，把我写给他太太的信也封进去。” 　　在吉米玛小姐看起来，她姐姐亲笔签字的信和皇帝的上谕一般神圣。平克顿小姐难得写信给家长；只限于学生离校，或是结婚，或是像有一回那可怜的白却小姐害猩红热死掉的时候，她才亲自动手。吉米玛小姐觉得她姐姐那一回通知信里的句子又虔诚又动听。世界上如果还有能够使白却太太略抒悲怀的东西，那一定就是这封信了。 　　这一回，平克顿小姐的信是这样的： 　　契息克林荫道　一八——年六月十五日 　　夫人——爱米丽亚·赛特笠小姐在林荫道已经修毕六年，此后尽堪在府上风雅高尚的环境中占一个与她身份相称的地位，我因此感到万分的荣幸和欣喜。英国大家闺秀所特有的品德，在她家世和地位上所应有的才学，温良的赛特笠小姐已经具备。她学习勤勉，性情和顺，博得师长们的赞扬，而且她为人温柔可亲，因此校内无论长幼，一致喜爱她。 　　在音乐、舞蹈、拼法以及刺绣缝纫方面，她的造诣一定能副亲友的期望。可惜她对于地理的知识还多欠缺。同时我希望您在今后三年之中，督促她每天使用背板①四小时，不可间断。这样才能使她的举止风度端雅稳重，合乎上流女子的身份。 　　赛特笠小姐对于宗教道德的见解非常正确，不愧为本校的学生（本校曾承伟大的字汇学家②光临参观，又承杰出的夏博恩夫人多方资助）。爱米丽亚小姐离开林荫道时，同窗的眷念，校长的关注，也将随她而去。夫人，我十分荣幸，能自称为您的谦卑感恩的仆人。 　　巴巴拉·平克顿 　　附言　夏泼小姐准备和赛特笠小姐一同来府。夏泼小姐在勒塞尔广场盘桓的时间不宜超过十天。雇用她的是显要的世家，希望她在最短时间内开始工作。 　　-------- 　　①当时的人用背板来防止驼背。 　　②指塞谬尔·约翰逊博士。 　　信写完之后，平克顿小姐在一本约翰逊字典的空白页上写了她自己的和赛特笠小姐的名字。凡是学生离开林荫道，她从来不忘记把这本极有趣味的著作相赠。书面上另外写上“已故塞谬尔·约翰逊博士于平克顿女校某毕业生离开林荫道时的数行赠言”。这位威风凛凛的女人嘴边老是挂着字汇学家的名字，原来他曾经来拜访过她一次，从此使她名利双收。 　　吉米玛小姐奉了她姐姐的命令，在柜子里抽出两本字典。平克顿小姐在第一本里面题赠完毕，吉米玛小姐便带着迟疑不决的样子，小心翼翼的把第二本也递给她。 　　平克顿小姐的脸色冷冰冰的非常可怕，问道：“这本给谁，吉米玛小姐？” 　　“给蓓基·夏泼，”吉米玛一面说，一面吓得索索抖，背过脸去不敢看她姐姐，她那憔悴的脸儿和干枯的脖子都涨得通红——“给蓓基·夏泼，她也要走了。” 　　平克顿小姐一字一顿的大声嚷道：“·吉·米·玛·小·姐，你疯了吗？把字典仍旧搁在柜子里，以后不准这么自作主张！” 　　“姐姐，字典才值两先令九便士，可怜的蓓基拿不着字典，心里头岂不难过呢？” 　　平克顿小姐答道：“立刻叫赛特笠小姐到我这儿来。”可怜的吉米玛小姐不敢多嘴，慌慌张张的跑掉了。 　　赛特笠小姐的爸爸在伦敦做买卖，手里很有几个钱，而夏泼小姐不过在学校里半教半读，平克顿小姐认为自己已经给了她不少好处，不必再在分手的时候特别抬举她，送她字典。 　　一般说来，校长的信和墓志铭一样靠不住。不过偶然也有几个死人当得起石匠刻在他们朽骨上的好话，真的是虔诚的教徒，慈爱的父母，孝顺的儿女，尽职的丈夫，贤良的妻子，他们家里的人也真的哀思绵绵的追悼他们。同样的，不论在男学校女学校，偶然也会有一两个学生当得起老师毫无私心的称赞。爱米丽亚·赛特笠小姐就是这种难能可贵的好人。平克顿小姐夸奖她的话，句句是真的。不但如此，她还有许多可爱的品质，不过这个自以为了不起的、像智慧女神一样的老婆子因为地位不同，年龄悬殊，看不出来罢了。 　　她的歌喉比得上百灵鸟，或者可说比得上别灵顿太太，她的舞艺不亚于赫立斯白格或是巴利索脱①。她花儿绣得好，拼法准确得和字典不相上下。除了这些不算，她心地厚道，性格温柔可疼，器量又大，为人又乐观，所以上自智慧女神，下至可怜的洗碗小丫头，没一个人不爱她。那独眼的卖苹果女人有个女儿，每星期到学校里来卖一次苹果，也爱她。二十四个同学里面，倒有十二个是她的心腹朋友。连妒忌心最重的白立格小姐都不说她的坏话；连自以为了不起的赛尔泰小姐（她是台克斯脱勋爵的孙女儿）也承认她的身段不错。还有位有钱的施瓦滋小姐，是从圣·葛脱回来的半黑种，她那一头头发卷得就像羊毛；爱米丽亚离校那天她哭得死去活来，校里的人只好请了弗洛丝医生来，用嗅盐把她熏得半醉。平克顿小姐的感情是沉着而有节制的，我们从她崇高的地位和她过人的德行上可以推想出来，可是吉米玛小姐就不同，她想到要跟爱米丽亚分别，已经哼哼唧唧哭了好几回，若不是怕她姐姐生气，准会像圣·葛脱的女财主一样（她付双倍的学杂费），老实不客气的发起歇斯底里病来。可惜只有寄宿在校长家里的阔学生才有权利任性发泄哀痛，老实的吉米玛工作多着呢，她得管账，做布丁，指挥佣人，留心碗盏瓷器，还得负责上上下下换洗缝补的事情。我们不必多提她了。从现在到世界末日，我们也不见得再听得到她的消息。那镂花的大铁门一关上，她和她那可怕的姐姐永远不会再到我们这小天地里来了。 　　-------- 　　①这几个都是当时有名气的歌唱家和舞蹈家。 　　我们以后还有好些机会和爱米丽亚见面，所以应该先介绍一下，让大家知道她是个招人疼的小女孩儿。我们能够老是跟这么天真和气的人做伴，真是好运气，因为不管在现实生活里面还是在小说里面——尤其在小说里面——可恶的坏蛋实在太多。她反正不是主角，所以我不必多形容她的外貌。不瞒你说，我觉得她的鼻子不够长，脸蛋儿太红太圆，不大配做女主角。她脸色红润，显得很健康，嘴角卷着甜迷迷的笑容，明亮的眼睛里闪闪发光，流露出最真诚的快活，可惜她的眼睛里也常常装满了眼泪。因为她最爱哭。金丝雀死了，老鼠给猫逮住了，或是小说里最无聊的结局，都能叫这小傻瓜伤心。假如有硬心肠的人责骂了她，那就活该他们倒楣。连女神一般严厉的平克顿小姐，骂过她一回之后，也没再骂第二回。在她看来，这种容易受感触的性子，正和代数一样难捉摸，不过她居然叮嘱所有的教师，叫他们对赛特笠小姐特别温和，因为粗暴的手段对她只有害处。 　　赛特笠小姐既爱哭又爱笑，所以到了动身的一天不知怎么才好。她喜欢回家，又舍不得离校。没爹娘的罗拉·马丁连着三天像小狗似的跟在她后面。她至少收了十四份礼物，当然也得照样回十四份，还得郑重其事的答应十四个朋友每星期写信给她们。赛尔泰小姐（顺便告诉你一声，她穿得很寒酸）说道：“你写给我的信，叫我祖父台克斯脱勋爵转给我得了。”施瓦滋小姐说：“别计较邮费，天天写信给我吧，宝贝儿。”这位头发活像羊毛的小姐感情容易冲动，可是器量大，待人也亲热。小孤儿罗拉·马丁（她刚会写圆滚滚的大字）拉着朋友的手，呆柯柯的瞧着她说：“爱米丽亚，我写信给你的时候，就叫你妈妈。”琼斯①在他的俱乐部里看这本书看到这些细节，一定会骂它们琐碎、无聊，全是废话，而且异乎寻常的肉麻。我想像得出琼斯的样子，他刚吃过羊肉，喝了半品脱的酒，脸上红喷喷的，拿起笔来在“无聊”“废话”等字样底下画了道儿，另外加上几句，说他的批评“很准确”。他本来是个高人一等的天才，不论在小说里在生活中，只赏识大刀阔斧、英雄好汉的事迹，所以我这里先警告他，请他走开。 　　-------- 　　①琼斯是个普通的名字，这里代表随便什么张三李四。 　　好了，言归正传。三菩把赛特笠小姐的花儿、礼物、箱子和帽盒子安放在车子上。行李里面还有一只饱经风霜、又旧又小的牛皮箱，上面整整齐齐的钉着夏泼小姐的名片，三菩嘻皮扯脸的把箱子递给车夫，车夫也嗤笑着把它装在车子上。这样，分手的时候便到了。平克顿小姐对她学生扬扬洒洒的训了一篇话，就此减轻了爱米丽亚的离愁。倒并不是平克顿小姐的临别赠言使她想得通丢得开，因此心平气和，镇静下来，却是因为她说的全是一派门面话，又长又闷，听得人难受。而且赛特笠小姐很怕校长，不敢在她面前为着个人的烦恼流眼泪。那天像家长来校的时候一般隆重，特地在客厅里摆了一个香草子蛋糕和一瓶酒。大家吃过点心，赛特笠小姐便准备动身。 　　那时一个没人理会的姑娘从楼上下来，自己提着纸盒子。吉米玛小姐对她说道：“蓓基，你该到里边去跟平克顿小姐告辞一声。” 　　“我想这是免不了的，”夏泼小姐说话的时候不动声色，吉米玛小姐瞧着直觉得诧异。吉米玛敲敲门，平克顿小姐说了声请进，夏泼小姐便满不在乎走到屋里，用完美的法文说道： 　　“小姐，我来跟您告别。” 　　平克顿小姐是不懂法文的，她只会指挥懂法文的人。当下她咬着嘴唇忍下这口气，高高的扬着脸——她的鼻子是罗马式的，头上还包着一大块缠头布，看上去着实令人敬畏——她扬着脸说道：“夏泼小姐，早上好！”海默斯密士区里的赛米拉米斯一面说话，一面把手一挥，一则表示和夏泼小姐告别，二则特地伸出一个手指头，好给夏泼小姐一个机会和她握手。 　　夏泼小姐交叉着手，冷冷的笑着鞠了一个躬，表示不希罕校长赏给她的面子。赛米拉米斯大怒，把个脸高高扬起。在这一刹那间，这一老一少已经交过锋，而吃亏的竟是那老的。她搂着爱米丽亚说：“求老天保佑你，孩子，”一面说，一面从爱米丽亚肩头上对夏泼小姐恶狠狠的瞪眼。吉米玛小姐心里害怕，赶快拉着夏泼小姐出来，口里说：“来吧，蓓基。”在我们的故事里，这客厅的门从此关上，再也不开了。 　　接着是楼下告别时的忙乱，当时的情形真是难以言语形容。过道里挤满了人，所有的佣人，所有的好朋友，所有的同学，还有刚刚到达的跳舞先生，大家扭在一起，拥抱着，亲吻着，啼哭着。寄宿在校长家里的施瓦滋小姐在房间里发歇斯底里病，一声声的叫唤。这种种，实在没人能够描写，软心肠的人也不忍多看的。拥抱完毕之后，大家便分手了——我该说，赛特笠小姐和她的朋友们便分手了。夏泼小姐在几分钟之前已经静静的坐进了马车，没有人因为舍不得她而流过一滴眼泪。 　　弯腿的三菩啪的一声替他哭哭啼啼的小姐关好了车门，自己一纵身跳在马车后面站好，这当儿吉米玛小姐拿着一个小包冲到门口叫道：“等一等！”她对爱米丽亚说：“亲爱的，这儿有几块夹心面包，回头你们肚子饿了好吃。蓓基，蓓基·夏泼，这本书给你，我姐姐把这给——我的意思是我把这——约翰逊的字典——你不能不拿字典就走。再见了！车夫，赶车吧！求天保佑你们！” 　　这忠厚的人儿情不自禁，转身回到花园里面。哪知道马车刚动身，夏泼小姐的苍白脸儿便从窗口伸出来。她竟然老实不客气的把字典扔在花园里面。 　　吉米玛吓得差点儿晕过去，说道：“嗳哟，我从来没有——好大的胆子——”她的感情起伏得太利害，因此两句话都没有说完。马车走了，大铁门关上了；里面打起铃子准备上跳舞课。两个女孩子从此开始做人。再见吧，契息克林荫道！

CHAPTER II In Which Miss Sharp and Miss Sedley Prepare to Open the Campaign When Miss Sharp had performed the heroical act mentioned in the last chapter, and had seen the Dixonary, flying over the pavement of the little garden, fall at length at the feet of the astonished Miss Jemima, the young lady's countenance, which had before worn an almost livid look of hatred, assumed a smile that perhaps was scarcely more agreeable, and she sank back in the carriage in an easy frame of mind, saying--"So much for the Dixonary; and, thank God, I'm out of Chiswick." Miss Sedley was almost as flurried at the act of defiance as Miss Jemima had been; for, consider, it was but one minute that she had left school, and the impressions of six years are not got over in that space of time. Nay, with some persons those awes and terrors of youth last for ever and ever. I know, for instance, an old gentleman of sixty-eight, who said to me one morning at breakfast, with a very agitated countenance, "I dreamed last night that I was flogged by Dr. Raine." Fancy had carried him back five-and-fifty years in the course of that evening. Dr. Raine and his rod were just as awful to him in his heart, then, at sixty-eight, as they had been at thirteen. If the Doctor, with a large birch, had appeared bodily to him, even at the age of threescore and eight, and had said in awful voice, "Boy, take down your pant--"? Well, well, Miss Sedley was exceedingly alarmed at this act of insubordination. "How could you do so, Rebecca?" at last she said, after a pause. "Why, do you think Miss Pinkerton will come out and order me back to the black-hole?" said Rebecca, laughing. "No: but--" "I hate the whole house," continued Miss Sharp in a fury. "I hope I may never set eyes on it again. I wish it were in the bottom of the Thames, I do; and if Miss Pinkerton were there, I wouldn't pick her out, that I wouldn't. O how I should like to see her floating in the water yonder, turban and all, with her train streaming after her, and her nose like the beak of a wherry." "Hush!" cried Miss Sedley. "Why, will the black footman tell tales?" cried Miss Rebecca, laughing. "He may go back and tell Miss Pinkerton that I hate her with all my soul; and I wish he would; and I wish I had a means of proving it, too. For two years I have only had insults and outrage from her. I have been treated worse than any servant in the kitchen. I have never had a friend or a kind word, except from you. I have been made to tend the little girls in the lower schoolroom, and to talk French to the Misses, until I grew sick of my mother tongue. But that talking French to Miss Pinkerton was capital fun, wasn't it? She doesn't know a word of French, and was too proud to confess it. I believe it was that which made her part with me; and so thank Heaven for French. Vive la France! Vive l'Empereur! Vive Bonaparte!" "O Rebecca, Rebecca, for shame!" cried Miss Sedley; for this was the greatest blasphemy Rebecca had as yet uttered; and in those days, in England, to say, "Long live Bonaparte!" was as much as to say, "Long live Lucifer!" "How can you--how dare you have such wicked, revengeful thoughts?" "Revenge may be wicked, but it's natural," answered Miss Rebecca. "I'm no angel." And, to say the truth, she certainly was not. For it may be remarked in the course of this little conversation (which took place as the coach rolled along lazily by the river side) that though Miss Rebecca Sharp has twice had occasion to thank Heaven, it has been, in the first place, for ridding her of some person whom she hated, and secondly, for enabling her to bring her enemies to some sort of perplexity or confusion; neither of which are very amiable motives for religious gratitude, or such as would be put forward by persons of a kind and placable disposition. Miss Rebecca was not, then, in the least kind or placable. All the world used her ill, said this young misanthropist, and we may be pretty certain that persons whom all the world treats ill, deserve entirely the treatment they get. The world is a looking-glass, and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face. Frown at it, and it will in turn look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, and it is a jolly kind companion; and so let all young persons take their choice. This is certain, that if the world neglected Miss Sharp, she never was known to have done a good action in behalf of anybody; nor can it be expected that twenty-four young ladies should all be as amiable as the heroine of this work, Miss Sedley (whom we have selected for the very reason that she was the best-natured of all, otherwise what on earth was to have prevented us from putting up Miss Swartz, or Miss Crump, or Miss Hopkins, as heroine in her place!) it could not be expected that every one should be of the humble and gentle temper of Miss Amelia Sedley; should take every opportunity to vanquish Rebecca's hard-heartedness and ill-humour; and, by a thousand kind words and offices, overcome, for once at least, her hostility to her kind. Miss Sharp's father was an artist, and in that quality had given lessons of drawing at Miss Pinkerton's school. He was a clever man; a pleasant companion; a careless student; with a great propensity for running into debt, and a partiality for the tavern. When he was drunk, he used to beat his wife and daughter; and the next morning, with a headache, he would rail at the world for its neglect of his genius, and abuse, with a good deal of cleverness, and sometimes with perfect reason, the fools, his brother painters. As it was with the utmost difficulty that he could keep himself, and as he owed money for a mile round Soho, where he lived, he thought to better his circumstances by marrying a young woman of the French nation, who was by profession an opera-girl. The humble calling of her female parent Miss Sharp never alluded to, but used to state subsequently that the Entrechats were a noble family of Gascony, and took great pride in her descent from them. And curious it is that as she advanced in life this young lady's ancestors increased in rank and splendour. Rebecca's mother had had some education somewhere, and her daughter spoke French with purity and a Parisian accent. It was in those days rather a rare accomplishment, and led to her engagement with the orthodox Miss Pinkerton. For her mother being dead, her father, finding himself not likely to recover, after his third attack of delirium tremens, wrote a manly and pathetic letter to Miss Pinkerton, recommending the orphan child to her protection, and so descended to the grave, after two bailiffs had quarrelled over his corpse. Rebecca was seventeen when she came to Chiswick, and was bound over as an articled pupil; her duties being to talk French, as we have seen; and her privileges to live cost free, and, with a few guineas a year, to gather scraps of knowledge from the professors who attended the school. She was small and slight in person; pale, sandy-haired, and with eyes habitually cast down: when they looked up they were very large, odd, and attractive; so attractive that the Reverend Mr. Crisp, fresh from Oxford, and curate to the Vicar of Chiswick, the Reverend Mr. Flowerdew, fell in love with Miss Sharp; being shot dead by a glance of her eyes which was fired all the way across Chiswick Church from the school-pew to the reading-desk. This infatuated young man used sometimes to take tea with Miss Pinkerton, to whom he had been presented by his mamma, and actually proposed something like marriage in an intercepted note, which the one-eyed apple-woman was charged to deliver. Mrs. Crisp was summoned from Buxton, and abruptly carried off her darling boy; but the idea, even, of such an eagle in the Chiswick dovecot caused a great flutter in the breast of Miss Pinkerton, who would have sent away Miss Sharp but that she was bound to her under a forfeit, and who never could thoroughly believe the young lady's protestations that she had never exchanged a single word with Mr. Crisp, except under her own eyes on the two occasions when she had met him at tea. By the side of many tall and bouncing young ladies in the establishment, Rebecca Sharp looked like a child. But she had the dismal precocity of poverty. Many a dun had she talked to, and turned away from her father's door; many a tradesman had she coaxed and wheedled into good-humour, and into the granting of one meal more. She sate commonly with her father, who was very proud of her wit, and heard the talk of many of his wild companions--often but ill-suited for a girl to hear. But she never had been a girl, she said; she had been a woman since she was eight years old. Oh, why did Miss Pinkerton let such a dangerous bird into her cage? The fact is, the old lady believed Rebecca to be the meekest creature in the world, so admirably, on the occasions when her father brought her to Chiswick, used Rebecca to perform the part of the ingenue; and only a year before the arrangement by which Rebecca had been admitted into her house, and when Rebecca was sixteen years old, Miss Pinkerton majestically, and with a little speech, made her a present of a doll--which was, by the way, the confiscated property of Miss Swindle, discovered surreptitiously nursing it in school- hours. How the father and daughter laughed as they trudged home together after the evening party (it was on the occasion of the speeches, when all the professors were invited) and how Miss Pinkerton would have raged had she seen the caricature of herself which the little mimic, Rebecca, managed to make out of her doll. Becky used to go through dialogues with it; it formed the delight of Newman Street, Gerrard Street, and the Artists' quarter: and the young painters, when they came to take their gin-and-water with their lazy, dissolute, clever, jovial senior, used regularly to ask Rebecca if Miss Pinkerton was at home: she was as well known to them, poor soul! as Mr. Lawrence or President West. Once Rebecca had the honour to pass a few days at Chiswick; after which she brought back Jemima, and erected another doll as Miss Jemmy: for though that honest creature had made and given her jelly and cake enough for three children, and a seven-shilling piece at parting, the girl's sense of ridicule was far stronger than her gratitude, and she sacrificed Miss Jemmy quite as pitilessly as her sister. The catastrophe came, and she was brought to the Mall as to her home. The rigid formality of the place suffocated her: the prayers and the meals, the lessons and the walks, which were arranged with a conventual regularity, oppressed her almost beyond endurance; and she looked back to the freedom and the beggary of the old studio in Soho with so much regret, that everybody, herself included, fancied she was consumed with grief for her father. She had a little room in the garret, where the maids heard her walking and sobbing at night; but it was with rage, and not with grief. She had not been much of a dissembler, until now her loneliness taught her to feign. She had never mingled in the society of women: her father, reprobate as he was, was a man of talent; his conversation was a thousand times more agreeable to her than the talk of such of her own sex as she now encountered. The pompous vanity of the old schoolmistress, the foolish good-humour of her sister, the silly chat and scandal of the elder girls, and the frigid correctness of the governesses equally annoyed her; and she had no soft maternal heart, this unlucky girl, otherwise the prattle and talk of the younger children, with whose care she was chiefly intrusted, might have soothed and interested her; but she lived among them two years, and not one was sorry that she went away. The gentle tender-hearted Amelia Sedley was the only person to whom she could attach herself in the least; and who could help attaching herself to Amelia? The happiness the superior advantages of the young women round about her, gave Rebecca inexpressible pangs of envy. "What airs that girl gives herself, because she is an Earl's grand-daughter," she said of one. "How they cringe and bow to that Creole, because of her hundred thousand pounds! I am a thousand times cleverer and more charming than that creature, for all her wealth. I am as well bred as the Earl's grand-daughter, for all her fine pedigree; and yet every one passes me by here. And yet, when I was at my father's, did not the men give up their gayest balls and parties in order to pass the evening with me?" She determined at any rate to get free from the prison in which she found herself, and now began to act for herself, and for the first time to make connected plans for the future. She took advantage, therefore, of the means of study the place offered her; and as she was already a musician and a good linguist, she speedily went through the little course of study which was considered necessary for ladies in those days. Her music she practised incessantly, and one day, when the girls were out, and she had remained at home, she was overheard to play a piece so well that Minerva thought, wisely, she could spare herself the expense of a master for the juniors, and intimated to Miss Sharp that she was to instruct them in music for the future. The girl refused; and for the first time, and to the astonishment of the majestic mistress of the school. "I am here to speak French with the children," Rebecca said abruptly, "not to teach them music, and save money for you. Give me money, and I will teach them." Minerva was obliged to yield, and, of course, disliked her from that day. "For five-and-thirty years," she said, and with great justice, "I never have seen the individual who has dared in my own house to question my authority. I have nourished a viper in my bosom." "A viper--a fiddlestick," said Miss Sharp to the old lady, almost fainting with astonishment. "You took me because I was useful. There is no question of gratitude between us. I hate this place, and want to leave it. I will do nothing here but what I am obliged to do." It was in vain that the old lady asked her if she was aware she was speaking to Miss Pinkerton? Rebecca laughed in her face, with a horrid sarcastic demoniacal laughter, that almost sent the schoolmistress into fits. "Give me a sum of money," said the girl, "and get rid of me--or, if you like better, get me a good place as governess in a nobleman's family--you can do so if you please." And in their further disputes she always returned to this point, "Get me a situation--we hate each other, and I am ready to go." Worthy Miss Pinkerton, although she had a Roman nose and a turban, and was as tall as a grenadier, and had been up to this time an irresistible princess, had no will or strength like that of her little apprentice, and in vain did battle against her, and tried to overawe her. Attempting once to scold her in public, Rebecca hit upon the before-mentioned plan of answering her in French, which quite routed the old woman. In order to maintain authority in her school, it became necessary to remove this rebel, this monster, this serpent, this firebrand; and hearing about this time that Sir Pitt Crawley's family was in want of a governess, she actually recommended Miss Sharp for the situation, firebrand and serpent as she was. "I cannot, certainly," she said, "find fault with Miss Sharp's conduct, except to myself; and must allow that her talents and accomplishments are of a high order. As far as the head goes, at least, she does credit to the educational system pursued at my establishment." And so the schoolmistress reconciled the recommendation to her conscience, and the indentures were cancelled, and the apprentice was free. The battle here described in a few lines, of course, lasted for some months. And as Miss Sedley, being now in her seventeenth year, was about to leave school, and had a friendship for Miss Sharp ("'tis the only point in Amelia's behaviour," said Minerva, "which has not been satisfactory to her mistress"), Miss Sharp was invited by her friend to pass a week with her at home, before she entered upon her duties as governess in a private family. Thus the world began for these two young ladies. For Amelia it was quite a new, fresh, brilliant world, with all the bloom upon it. It was not quite a new one for Rebecca--(indeed, if the truth must be told with respect to the Crisp affair, the tart-woman hinted to somebody, who took an affidavit of the fact to somebody else, that there was a great deal more than was made public regarding Mr. Crisp and Miss Sharp, and that his letter was in answer to another letter). But who can tell you the real truth of the matter? At all events, if Rebecca was not beginning the world, she was beginning it over again. By the time the young ladies reached Kensington turnpike, Amelia had not forgotten her companions, but had dried her tears, and had blushed very much and been delighted at a young officer of the Life Guards, who spied her as he was riding by, and said, "A dem fine gal, egad!" and before the carriage arrived in Russell Square, a great deal of conversation had taken place about the Drawing-room, and whether or not young ladies wore powder as well as hoops when presented, and whether she was to have that honour: to the Lord Mayor's ball she knew she was to go. And when at length home was reached, Miss Amelia Sedley skipped out on Sambo's arm, as happy and as handsome a girl as any in the whole big city of London. Both he and coachman agreed on this point, and so did her father and mother, and so did every one of the servants in the house, as they stood bobbing, and curtseying, and smiling, in the hall to welcome their young mistress. You may be sure that she showed Rebecca over every room of the house, and everything in every one of her drawers; and her books, and her piano, and her dresses, and all her necklaces, brooches, laces, and gimcracks. She insisted upon Rebecca accepting the white cornelian and the turquoise rings, and a sweet sprigged muslin, which was too small for her now, though it would fit her friend to a nicety; and she determined in her heart to ask her mother's permission to present her white Cashmere shawl to her friend. Could she not spare it? and had not her brother Joseph just brought her two from India? When Rebecca saw the two magnificent Cashmere shawls which Joseph Sedley had brought home to his sister, she said, with perfect truth, "that it must be delightful to have a brother," and easily got the pity of the tender-hearted Amelia for being alone in the world, an orphan without friends or kindred. "Not alone," said Amelia; "you know, Rebecca, I shall always be your friend, and love you as a sister--indeed I will." "Ah, but to have parents, as you have--kind, rich, affectionate parents, who give you everything you ask for; and their love, which is more precious than all! My poor papa could give me nothing, and I had but two frocks in all the world! And then, to have a brother, a dear brother! Oh, how you must love him!" Amelia laughed. "What! don't you love him? you, who say you love everybody?" "Yes, of course, I do--only--" "Only what?" "Only Joseph doesn't seem to care much whether I love him or not. He gave me two fingers to shake when he arrived after ten years' absence! He is very kind and good, but he scarcely ever speaks to me; I think he loves his pipe a great deal better than his"--but here Amelia checked herself, for why should she speak ill of her brother? "He was very kind to me as a child," she added; "I was but five years old when he went away." "Isn't he very rich?" said Rebecca. "They say all Indian nabobs are enormously rich." "I believe he has a very large income." "And is your sister-in-law a nice pretty woman?" "La! Joseph is not married," said Amelia, laughing again. Perhaps she had mentioned the fact already to Rebecca, but that young lady did not appear to have remembered it; indeed, vowed and protested that she expected to see a number of Amelia's nephews and nieces. She was quite disappointed that Mr. Sedley was not married; she was sure Amelia had said he was, and she doted so on little children. "I think you must have had enough of them at Chiswick," said Amelia, rather wondering at the sudden tenderness on her friend's part; and indeed in later days Miss Sharp would never have committed herself so far as to advance opinions, the untruth of which would have been so easily detected. But we must remember that she is but nineteen as yet, unused to the art of deceiving, poor innocent creature! and making her own experience in her own person. The meaning of the above series of queries, as translated in the heart of this ingenious young woman, was simply this: "If Mr. Joseph Sedley is rich and unmarried, why should I not marry him? I have only a fortnight, to be sure, but there is no harm in trying." And she determined within herself to make this laudable attempt. She redoubled her caresses to Amelia; she kissed the white cornelian necklace as she put it on; and vowed she would never, never part with it. When the dinner-bell rang she went downstairs with her arm round her friend's waist, as is the habit of young ladies. She was so agitated at the drawing-room door, that she could hardly find courage to enter. "Feel my heart, how it beats, dear!" said she to her friend. "No, it doesn't," said Amelia. "Come in, don't be frightened. Papa won't do you any harm." 第二章　夏泼小姐和赛特笠小姐准备作战 我们在前一章里已经提到夏泼小姐勇敢的行为。她眼看着字典飞过小花园的甬道掉在吉米玛小姐脚下，把她吓了一大跳，自己的脸上才浮起一丝儿笑意。只是这笑容比起方才恶狠狠铁青的脸色来，也好看不了多少。她出了气心里舒畅，往后一靠，说道：“字典打发掉了，谢天谢地，总算出了契息克！” 　　赛特笠小姐看见这样大胆的行为，差不多跟吉米玛一样吃惊。你想，她刚刚跨出校门一分钟，六年来受的教诲，哪里能在这么短短的一刹那给忘掉呢？真的，小时候受的惊吓，有些人一辈子都记得。举例来说，我认识一位六十八岁的老先生，一天早上吃早饭的时候，他非常激动的对我说：“昨儿晚上我梦见雷恩博士①给我吃了一顿鞭子。”他的想像一晚上的工夫就把他带到五十五年以前的境界里去；他活到六十八岁，可是在他心底里，雷恩博士和他的棍子还像他十三岁的时候一样可怕。倘若雷恩博士先生真人出现，手里拿着大棍子，对六十八岁的老头儿厉声喝道：“孩子，把裤子脱下来！”你想会有什么结果？所以难怪赛特笠小姐看见这样大逆不道的行为觉得害怕。 　　-------- 　　①雷恩（Mathew　Raine，1760—1811），1791年起在萨克雷的母校查特豪斯公立学校（Charter　House）任校长。 　　半晌，她才说出话来道：“利蓓加，你怎么可以这样呢！” 　　利蓓加笑道：“怎么？你以为平克顿小姐还会走出来把我关到黑屋子里去不成？” 　　“当然不会。可是——” 　　夏泼小姐恨恨的说道：“我恨透了这整个儿的学校。但愿我一辈子也别再看见它。我恨不得叫它沉到泰晤士河里去。倘若平克顿小姐掉在河里，我也不高兴捞她起来。我才不干呢！哈！我就爱看她在水里泡着，头上包着包头布，后面拖着个大裙子，鼻子像个小船尖似的浮在水面上。” 　　赛特笠小姐嚷道：“别说了！” 　　利蓓加笑道：“怎么？黑人会搬嘴吗？他尽不妨回去告诉平克顿小姐，说我恨她恨得入骨。我巴不得他回去搬嘴，巴不得叫老太婆知道我的利害。两年来她侮辱我、虐待我，厨房里的佣人过的日子还比我强些呢。除了你，没有一个人把我当朋友，也没人对我说过一句好话。我得伺候低班的小姑娘，又得跟小姐们说法文，说得我一想起自己的语言就头痛。可是跟平克顿小姐说法文才好玩儿，你说对不对？她一个字都不懂，可是又要装面子不肯承认自己不懂。我想这就是她让我离开学校的原因。真得感谢上天，法文真有用啊！法国万岁！皇帝陛下万岁！波那巴①万岁！” 　　-------- 　　①皇帝和波那巴都指拿破仑。 　　赛特笠小姐叫道：“哎哟，利蓓加！利蓓加！怎么说这样岂有此理的话？你的心思怎么这样毒，干吗老想报复呢？你的胆子可太大了。”利蓓加方才说的话真是亵渎神明，因为当时在英国，“波那巴万岁”和“魔鬼万岁”并没有什么分别。 　　利蓓加小姐回答道：“爱报复的心思也许毒，可是也很自然。我可不是天使。”说句老实话，她的确不是天使。 　　在这三言两语之中（当时马车正在懒懒地沿着河边走）夏泼小姐两次感谢上苍，第一次因为老天帮她离开了她厌恶的人，第二次因为老天帮她叫冤家狼狈得走投无路。她虽然虔诚，可是为了这样的原因赞美上帝，未免太刻薄了。显见得她不是个心地忠厚、胸襟宽大的人。原来利蓓加心地并不忠厚，胸襟也并不宽大。这小姑娘满腹牢骚，埋怨世上人亏待她。我觉得一个人如果遭到大家嫌弃，多半是自己不好。这世界是一面镜子，每个人都可以在里面看见自己的影子。你对它皱眉，它还给你一副尖酸的嘴脸。你对着它笑，跟着它乐，它就是个高兴和善的伴侣；所以年轻人必须在这两条道路里面自己选择。我确实知道，就算世上人不肯照顾夏泼小姐，她自己也没有为别人出过力。而且我们不能指望学校里二十四个小姑娘都像本书的女主角赛特笠小姐一样好心肠（我们挑她做主角就是因为她脾气最好，要不然施瓦滋小姐、克仑浦小姐、霍泼金小姐，不是一样合格吗？）。我刚才说，我们不能指望人人都像爱米丽亚·赛特笠小姐那样温厚谦逊；她想尽方法和利蓓加的硬心肠和坏脾气搏斗，时常好言好语安慰她，不断的帮助她。利蓓加虽然把一切人当作冤家，和爱米丽亚总算交了个朋友。 　　夏泼小姐的父亲是个画家，在平克顿女学校教过图画。他是个聪明人，谈吐非常风趣，可是不肯用苦功。他老是东借西挪，又喜欢上酒店喝酒，喝醉之后，回家打老婆女儿。第二天带着头痛发牢骚，抱怨世人不能赏识他的才华。他痛骂同行的画家都是糊涂虫，说的话不但尖刻，而且有时候很有道理。他住在苏霍，远近一里以内都欠了账，觉得养活自己实在不容易，便想改善环境，娶了一个唱歌剧的法国女人。夏泼小姐从来不肯提起她妈妈的下贱行业，只说外婆家盎脱勒夏是加斯各内地方的名门望族，谈起来觉得很得意。说来奇怪，这位小姐后来渐渐阔气，她祖宗的地位也便跟着上升，门庭一天比一天显赫。 　　利蓓加的母亲不知在哪里受过一些教育，因此女儿说的法文不但准确，而且是巴黎口音，当时的人认为这是难得的才具。平克顿小姐向来顺着时下的风气行事，便雇用了她。她母亲早死，父亲觉得自己的酒癫症已经是第三次复发，不见得有救，写了一封又豪放又动人的遗书向平克顿小姐托孤。他死后两个地保在他尸首前面吵了一架，才算给他下了葬。①利蓓加到契息克的时候只有十七岁，在学校里半教半读。在前面已经说过，她的责任就是对学生们说法文，而她的权利呢，除了免缴一切费用之外，一年还有几个基尼收入，并且能够从学校里教书的先生那里学到一鳞半爪的知识。 　　-------- 　　①他的债主不止一个，所以两个地保代表两处的债权人来没收他的财产。 　　她身量瘦小，脸色苍白，头发是淡黄色的。她惯常低眉垂目，抬起眼来看人的时候，眼睛显得很特别，不但大，而且动人。契息克的弗拉活丢牧师手下有一个副牧师，名叫克里斯泼，刚从牛津大学毕业，竟因此爱上了她。夏泼小姐的眼风穿过契息克教堂，从学校的包座直射到牧师的讲台上，一下子就把克里斯泼牧师结果了。这昏了头的小伙子曾经由他妈妈介绍给平克顿小姐，偶然也到她学校里去喝喝茶。他托那个独眼的卖苹果女人给他传递情书，被人发现，信里面的话简直等于向夏泼小姐求婚。克里斯泼太太得到消息，连忙从勃克里登赶来，立刻把她的宝贝儿子带走。平克顿小姐想到自己的鸽笼里藏了一只老魔，不由得心慌意乱，若不是有约在先，真想把她赶走。那女孩子竭力辩白，说她只在平克顿小姐监视之下和克里泼斯先生在茶会上见过两面，从来没有跟他说过话。她虽然这么说，平克顿小姐仍旧将信将疑。 　　利蓓加·夏泼在学校里许多又高又大、跳跳蹦蹦的同学旁边，好像还没有长大成人。其实贫穷的生活已经使她养成阴沉沉的脾气，比同年的孩子懂事得多。她常常和逼债的人打交道，想法子打发他们回去。她有本领甜言蜜语的哄得那些做买卖的回心转意，再让她赊一顿饭吃。她爸爸见她机灵，十分得意，时常让她和自己一起坐着听他那些粗野的朋友聊天，可惜他们说的多半是姑娘们不该听的野话。她说自己从来没有做过孩子，从八岁起就是成年妇人了。唉！平克顿小姐为什么让这么凶恶的鸟儿住在她的笼子里呢？ 　　事情是这样的，每逢利蓓加的父亲带她到契息克去，她就装出天真烂漫的样子。她这出戏串得非常成功，老太太真心以为她是天下最驯良的小女孩儿。利蓓加给安排到平克顿女学校去的前一年，刚好十六岁，平克顿小姐正色送给她一个洋娃娃，还对她说了一篇正经话儿，——我得解释一句，这个洋娃娃原来是斯温德尔小姐的，她在上课的时候偷偷的抱着它玩，就给充了公。到晚上宴会完毕（那天开演讲会，所有的先生都有请帖），父女两个一路打着哈哈走回家去。利蓓加擅于摹仿别人的谈吐举止，经过她一番讽刺形容，洋娃娃便成了平克顿小姐的化身，她自己看见了准会气死。蓓基常常和它谈天；这场表演，在纽门街、杰勒街和艺术家汇集的圈子里，没有人不爱看。年轻的画家们有时来找这位懒惰、潦倒、聪明、乐天的前辈，一块儿喝搀水的杜松子酒，每回总要问利蓓加平克顿小姐在家不在家。可怜的平克顿小姐！她真像劳伦斯①先生和威斯特②院长一样有名呢！有一回利蓓加得到莫大的宠幸，在契息克住过几天，回家的时候就把吉米玛也带来了。新的娃娃就叫吉米小姐。这忠厚的好人儿给她的糕饼和糖浆够三个孩子吃的，临走还送给她七先令。可是这女孩儿对吉米玛的感激压不住她喜欢嘲弄别人的本性。吉米小姐没有得到她的怜悯，和姐姐一样做了牺牲。 　　-------- 　　①劳伦斯（Thomas　Lawrence，1769—1830），英国肖像画家。 　　②威斯特（Benjamin　West，1738—1820），美国肖像画家，在1792年继有名的乔希亚·雷诺（Joshua　Reynolds）为皇家艺术学院的院长。 　　她遭难之后，被带到林荫道去，算是有了家。学校里谨严的校规把她闷得半死。在这儿，祈祷、吃饭、上课、散步，都有一定的时候，不能错了规矩，这日子叫她怎么过得惯？她留恋从前在苏霍画室里自由自在的穷日子，说不尽的愁闷。所有的人——连她自己在内——都以为她想念父亲，所以那么悲伤。她住在阁楼上一间小屋里，女佣人们常常听见她晚上一面哭一面走来走去。其实她哭泣的原因不是悲哀，倒是气恨。她本来没有多少虚情假意，如今和别人不合群，所以只能想法子掩饰。她从小不和女人来往。她的父亲虽然是个无赖，却有才华。利蓓加觉得他的谈吐比起现在女人堆里听到的说长道短，不知有趣多少。女校长最爱空架子和虚面子；她妹妹脾气好得痴呆混沌；年纪大些的学生喜欢说些无聊的闲话，讲讲人家的阴私；女教师们又全是一丝不苟的老古板。这一切都同样叫她气闷。她的主要责任是管小学生。按理说，听着小孩儿咭咭呱呱，倒也可以消愁解闷。无奈她天生缺少母性，和孩子们混了两年，临走没有一个人舍不得她。只有对于温柔好心的爱米丽亚·赛特笠，她还有点儿好感。不喜欢爱米丽亚的人究竟是不多的。 　　利蓓加看见她周围的小姐们那么福气，享受种种权利，说不出的眼红。她批评一个学生说：“那女孩子好骄傲！不过因为她祖父是伯爵罢了！”“瞧她们对那半黑种势利讨好的样儿！还不是为着她有成千累万的财产吗？就算她有钱，我总比她聪明可爱一千倍。伯爵的孙女儿出身虽好，也不见得比我有教养。可是这儿一个人都不睬我。我跟着爸爸的时候，那些男的只要能够一黄昏陪着我，情愿丢了最热闹的宴会和跳舞会都不去呢！”她打定主意要把自己从牢笼里解放出来，便着手行动，开始为自己的前途通盘计算起来。 　　她利用学校给她的便利发奋求学。音乐语文两科她本来精通，因此很快的得到了当时上流小姐必须具备的知识。她不断的练琴；有一天，别的学生都出去了，单留她一个人在学校里。有人听见她弹琴，那技巧非常高明。智慧女神因此得了个聪明的主意。她叫夏泼小姐教低班学生弹琴，借此可以省掉一个音乐教员。 　　女孩子一口拒绝。这是她第一次反抗，把威风凛凛的女校长吓了一跳。利蓓加不客气的回答道：“我的责任是给小孩儿说法文，不是教她们音乐给你省钱的。给我钱，我就教。” 　　智慧女神只能让步，当然从那天起就嫌了她。她说：“三十五年来，从来没有人敢在我自己的学校里违抗我的命令，”（她这话说得并不过分）——“我这真是在胸口养了一条毒蛇。” 　　夏泼小姐答道：“毒蛇！真是胡说八道！”老太太大出意外，几乎晕过去。夏泼小姐接下去说道：“我有用，你才收留我。咱们两个之间谈不到感恩不感恩的话。我恨这地方，我愿意走。我在这儿，只做我份内的事，其余什么都不干。” 　　老太太问她明白不明白对她说话的不是别人，是平克顿小姐。这话毫无效力，利蓓加冲着她的脸笑起来。她笑得又恶毒又尖酸，女校长听了差点儿抽筋。女孩子说道：“给我点儿钱，打发我走吧。要不，在贵族人家给我找个位置当家庭教师也行，这两条路随你挑。只要你肯出力，这点儿事一定办得到。”从此以后她们每拌一次嘴，她就回到老题目，说道： 　　“给我找个事情。反正咱们你恨我我嫌你。我愿意走。” 　　贤明的平克顿小姐的鼻子是罗马式的；她头上缠着包头布，身材又高又大，很像个大兵。大家把她当公主娘娘似的奉承，没人敢违拗她。可是她远不如那小学徒意志坚强，精力充沛，每次交锋的时候不但打她不赢，而且吓她不倒。有一回她在大庭广众之前责备利蓓加，不料利蓓加也有对付的法子。前面已经说过，她用法文回答，从此拆了那老婆子的台。平克顿小姐觉得利蓓加是叛逆，是混蛋，是毒蛇，是捣乱份子；她要在学校里保持权威，非把利蓓加清除出去不可。那时候毕脱·克劳莱爵士家里需要家庭教师，她竟然举荐了夏泼小姐。虽说是毒蛇，又是捣蛋鬼，也顾不得了。她说：“夏泼小姐多才多艺，造诣是极高的。虽然她对我本人礼貌稍有欠缺，不过她的品行在其他方面无可指摘。若论智力才能，她确能为本校的教育制度增光。” 　　这么一写，女校长在良心上也没什么过不去了。她们两个人中间的契约从此取消，小徒弟便恢复了自由。这里三言两语描写完毕的斗争，拖延了好几个月呢。赛特笠小姐今年十七岁，准备停学回家。她和夏泼小姐感情很好（智慧女神曾经说过：“这是爱米丽亚唯一使校长失望的一点”），邀请夏泼小姐先到她家里去住一星期，然后再出去当教师。 　　两个姑娘从此开始做人。爱米丽亚觉得这世界五光十色，又新鲜，又有趣，又美丽。利蓓加呢，却是有过些经验的了。老实告诉你吧，根据卖苹果的露出来的口风，好像她和克里斯泼中间还有好些外面不知道的纠葛。那老婆子说第一封信不是克里斯泼写的，他的那封不过是回信。听见这话的人，又把这口供传给别人听。可是这件事的底细谁也不知道。这样说吧：就算利蓓加不是开始做人，至少她是重新做人。 　　她们一程程行到开恩新恩关卡的时候，爱米丽亚虽然没有忘记老朋友，已经擦干了眼泪。一个守卫军官看见她，说道：“喝！好个女孩子！”她听了这话非常高兴，绯红了脸。马车到达勒塞尔广场之前，她说了不少话，谈到进宫觐见的情形和年轻姑娘觐见时的服装，譬如说，裙子里是不是得撑个箍，头上要不要戴洒过粉的假头发。她还不知道自己有没有机会进宫，不过市长开的跳舞会她是一定会有请帖的。到了自己门口，她扶着三菩下了马车，跳跳蹦蹦的往里面跑。她的样子多快活，相貌多漂亮！偌大一个伦敦城里多少个小姑娘，谁也比不过她。在这一点上，三菩和车夫的意见完全一样。她的爹妈，还有家里所有的佣人，心里也这么想。佣人们站在厅上，笑眯眯的躬着身子行礼，欢迎小姐回家。 　　不用说，她带着利蓓加参观家里每一间屋子，又打开抽屉把一样样东西翻出来给她瞧。她的书、钢琴、衣服、项链、别针、花边，还有各种小玩意儿，没有漏掉一样。她拿出一只璁玉戒指，一只水晶戒指，一件短条子花纹的漂亮纱衣服，逼着利蓓加收下来。她说这件衣服她穿不下了，利蓓加穿上一定合适。她私下决定求她妈妈允许，再送她一条白色细羊毛披肩。她哥哥乔瑟夫·赛特笠不是刚从印度给她带了两条回来吗？正好留一条给利蓓加。 　　利蓓加看了乔瑟夫·赛特笠给妹妹买来的两块华丽的细羊毛披肩，说道：“有个哥哥真好啊！”这话说的入情入理。她自己爹娘早死，又没有亲友，真是孤苦伶仃。软心肠的爱米丽亚听了这话立刻觉得她可怜。 　　爱米丽亚说道：“你并不孤苦伶仃。利蓓加，我永远做你的朋友，把你当作自己的姊妹。真的！” 　　“唉，像你这样父母双全才好呢！他们又慈爱，又有钱，又疼你，你要什么就有什么。他们对你那份儿知疼着热就比什么都宝贵。可怜我爸爸一样东西也买不起，我统共只有两件衣服。而且你又有哥哥，亲爱的哥哥！你一定非常爱他。” 　　爱米丽亚听了笑起来。 　　“怎么？你不爱他？你不是说你爱所有的人吗？” 　　“我当然爱他——可是——” 　　“可是什么？” 　　“可是乔瑟夫好像并不在乎我爱他不爱他。他离开家里十年，回家的时候伸出两个手指头，算跟我拉手。他人也好，心也好，可是从来不睬我。我想他爱他的烟斗比——”爱米丽亚说到这里顿了一顿，觉得不该说自己哥哥的坏话。她加了一句道：“我小的时候他很疼我。他离家的时候我才五岁。” 　　利蓓加说：“他很有钱吧？听说在印度做大事的人都是财主。” 　　“我想他收入不少。” 　　“你的嫂子大概很漂亮，为人一定也好，是不是？” 　　爱米丽亚又笑起来，说道：“唷，乔瑟夫还没结婚呢。” 　　这件事她大概早已跟利蓓加说过，可是这位小姐记不起来，赌神罚誓的说她一向以为爱米丽亚有好几个侄儿侄女，现在听得说赛特笠先生还没有结婚，心里老大失望。她说她最爱小孩儿。 　　爱米丽亚发现自己的朋友忽然变了个热心肠儿，有些奇怪，便道：“我还以为你在契息克管孩子管得腻死了呢。”像这样容易给人看穿的谎话，夏泼小姐后来再也没说过。请你别忘了，这天真的小可怜儿只有十九岁，骗人的艺术还没有成熟，正在摸索着创造经验呢！机灵的姑娘刚才问了一连串的问题，翻译成她心底里的话，就是：“假如赛特笠先生又有钱又是单身，我何不嫁了他呢？不错，我只能在这儿住两星期，可是不妨试一试啊！”她私底下决定一试身手，这种精神真值得佩服。她对爱米丽亚加倍的疼爱；把水晶项链戴上身以前，先凑在嘴边吻一下，起誓说她一辈子永远把它好好保存起来。吃饭的铃子一响，她按照姑娘们的习惯，搂着爱米丽亚的腰，两个人一起下楼。到了客厅门前，她激动得不敢进去，说道：“亲爱的，摸摸我的心，瞧它跳得多利害！” 　　爱米丽亚答道：“我摸着跳得并不利害。进来吧。爸爸不会难为你的。”

CHAPTER III Rebecca Is in Presence of the Enemy A VERY stout, puffy man, in buckskins and Hessian boots, with several immense neckcloths that rose almost to his nose, with a red striped waistcoat and an apple green coat with steel buttons almost as large as crown pieces (it was the morning costume of a dandy or blood of those days) was reading the paper by the fire when the two girls entered, and bounced off his arm-chair, and blushed excessively, and hid his entire face almost in his neckcloths at this apparition. "It's only your sister, Joseph," said Amelia, laughing and shaking the two fingers which he held out. "I've come home FOR GOOD, you know; and this is my friend, Miss Sharp, whom you have heard me mention." "No, never, upon my word," said the head under the neckcloth, shaking very much--"that is, yes--what abominably cold weather, Miss"--and herewith he fell to poking the fire with all his might, although it was in the middle of June. "He's very handsome," whispered Rebecca to Amelia, rather loud. "Do you think so?" said the latter. "I'll tell him." "Darling! not for worlds," said Miss Sharp, starting back as timid as a fawn. She had previously made a respectful virgin-like curtsey to the gentleman, and her modest eyes gazed so perseveringly on the carpet that it was a wonder how she should have found an opportunity to see him. "Thank you for the beautiful shawls, brother," said Amelia to the fire poker. "Are they not beautiful, Rebecca?" "O heavenly!" said Miss Sharp, and her eyes went from the carpet straight to the chandelier. Joseph still continued a huge clattering at the poker and tongs, puffing and blowing the while, and turning as red as his yellow face would allow him. "I can't make you such handsome presents, Joseph," continued his sister, "but while I was at school, I have embroidered for you a very beautiful pair of braces." "Good Gad! Amelia," cried the brother, in serious alarm, "what do you mean?" and plunging with all his might at the bell-rope, that article of furniture came away in his hand, and increased the honest fellow's confusion. "For heaven's sake see if my buggy's at the door. I CAN'T wait. I must go. D--- that groom of mine. I must go." At this minute the father of the family walked in, rattling his seals like a true British merchant. "What's the matter, Emmy?" says he. "Joseph wants me to see if his--his buggy is at the door. What is a buggy, Papa?" "It is a one-horse palanquin," said the old gentleman, who was a wag in his way. Joseph at this burst out into a wild fit of laughter; in which, encountering the eye of Miss Sharp, he stopped all of a sudden, as if he had been shot. "This young lady is your friend? Miss Sharp, I am very happy to see you. Have you and Emmy been quarrelling already with Joseph, that he wants to be off?" "I promised Bonamy of our service, sir," said Joseph, "to dine with him." "O fie! didn't you tell your mother you would dine here?" "But in this dress it's impossible." "Look at him, isn't he handsome enough to dine anywhere, Miss Sharp?" On which, of course, Miss Sharp looked at her friend, and they both set off in a fit of laughter, highly agreeable to the old gentleman. "Did you ever see a pair of buckskins like those at Miss Pinkerton's?" continued he, following up his advantage. "Gracious heavens! Father," cried Joseph. "There now, I have hurt his feelings. Mrs. Sedley, my dear, I have hurt your son's feelings. I have alluded to his buckskins. Ask Miss Sharp if I haven't? Come, Joseph, be friends with Miss Sharp, and let us all go to dinner." "There's a pillau, Joseph, just as you like it, and Papa has brought home the best turbot in Billingsgate." "Come, come, sir, walk downstairs with Miss Sharp, and I will follow with these two young women," said the father, and he took an arm of wife and daughter and walked merrily off. If Miss Rebecca Sharp had determined in her heart upon making the conquest of this big beau, I don't think, ladies, we have any right to blame her; for though the task of husband-hunting is generally, and with becoming modesty, entrusted by young persons to their mammas, recollect that Miss Sharp had no kind parent to arrange these delicate matters for her, and that if she did not get a husband for herself, there was no one else in the wide world who would take the trouble off her hands. What causes young people to "come out," but the noble ambition of matrimony? What sends them trooping to watering-places? What keeps them dancing till five o'clock in the morning through a whole mortal season? What causes them to labour at pianoforte sonatas, and to learn four songs from a fashionable master at a guinea a lesson, and to play the harp if they have handsome arms and neat elbows, and to wear Lincoln Green toxophilite hats and feathers, but that they may bring down some "desirable" young man with those killing bows and arrows of theirs? What causes respectable parents to take up their carpets, set their houses topsy-turvy, and spend a fifth of their year's income in ball suppers and iced champagne? Is it sheer love of their species, and an unadulterated wish to see young people happy and dancing? Psha! they want to marry their daughters; and, as honest Mrs. Sedley has, in the depths of her kind heart, already arranged a score of little schemes for the settlement of her Amelia, so also had our beloved but unprotected Rebecca determined to do her very best to secure the husband, who was even more necessary for her than for her friend. She had a vivid imagination; she had, besides, read the Arabian Nights and Guthrie's Geography; and it is a fact that while she was dressing for dinner, and after she had asked Amelia whether her brother was very rich, she had built for herself a most magnificent castle in the air, of which she was mistress, with a husband somewhere in the background (she had not seen him as yet, and his figure would not therefore be very distinct); she had arrayed herself in an infinity of shawls, turbans, and diamond necklaces, and had mounted upon an elephant to the sound of the march in Bluebeard, in order to pay a visit of ceremony to the Grand Mogul. Charming Alnaschar visions! it is the happy privilege of youth to construct you, and many a fanciful young creature besides Rebecca Sharp has indulged in these delightful day-dreams ere now! Joseph Sedley was twelve years older than his sister Amelia. He was in the East India Company's Civil Service, and his name appeared, at the period of which we write, in the Bengal division of the East India Register, as collector of Boggley Wollah, an honourable and lucrative post, as everybody knows: in order to know to what higher posts Joseph rose in the service, the reader is referred to the same periodical. Boggley Wollah is situated in a fine, lonely, marshy, jungly district, famous for snipe-shooting, and where not unfrequently you may flush a tiger. Ramgunge, where there is a magistrate, is only forty miles off, and there is a cavalry station about thirty miles farther; so Joseph wrote home to his parents, when he took possession of his collectorship. He had lived for about eight years of his life, quite alone, at this charming place, scarcely seeing a Christian face except twice a year, when the detachment arrived to carry off the revenues which he had collected, to Calcutta. Luckily, at this time he caught a liver complaint, for the cure of which he returned to Europe, and which was the source of great comfort and amusement to him in his native country. He did not live with his family while in London, but had lodgings of his own, like a gay young bachelor. Before he went to India he was too young to partake of the delightful pleasures of a man about town, and plunged into them on his return with considerable assiduity. He drove his horses in the Park; he dined at the fashionable taverns (for the Oriental Club was not as yet invented); he frequented the theatres, as the mode was in those days, or made his appearance at the opera, laboriously attired in tights and a cocked hat. On returning to India, and ever after, he used to talk of the pleasure of this period of his existence with great enthusiasm, and give you to understand that he and Brummel were the leading bucks of the day. But he was as lonely here as in his jungle at Boggley Wollah. He scarcely knew a single soul in the metropolis: and were it not for his doctor, and the society of his blue-pill, and his liver complaint, he must have died of loneliness. He was lazy, peevish, and a bon-vivant; the appearance of a lady frightened him beyond measure; hence it was but seldom that he joined the paternal circle in Russell Square, where there was plenty of gaiety, and where the jokes of his good-natured old father frightened his amour- propre. His bulk caused Joseph much anxious thought and alarm; now and then he would make a desperate attempt to get rid of his superabundant fat; but his indolence and love of good living speedily got the better of these endeavours at reform, and he found himself again at his three meals a day. He never was well dressed; but he took the hugest pains to adorn his big person, and passed many hours daily in that occupation. His valet made a fortune out of his wardrobe: his toilet-table was covered with as many pomatums and essences as ever were employed by an old beauty: he had tried, in order to give himself a waist, every girth, stay, and waistband then invented. Like most fat men, he would have his clothes made too tight, and took care they should be of the most brilliant colours and youthful cut. When dressed at length, in the afternoon, he would issue forth to take a drive with nobody in the Park; and then would come back in order to dress again and go and dine with nobody at the Piazza Coffee-House. He was as vain as a girl; and perhaps his extreme shyness was one of the results of his extreme vanity. If Miss Rebecca can get the better of him, and at her first entrance into life, she is a young person of no ordinary cleverness. The first move showed considerable skill. When she called Sedley a very handsome man, she knew that Amelia would tell her mother, who would probably tell Joseph, or who, at any rate, would be pleased by the compliment paid to her son. All mothers are. If you had told Sycorax that her son Caliban was as handsome as Apollo, she would have been pleased, witch as she was. Perhaps, too, Joseph Sedley would overhear the compliment--Rebecca spoke loud enough--and he did hear, and (thinking in his heart that he was a very fine man) the praise thrilled through every fibre of his big body, and made it tingle with pleasure. Then, however, came a recoil. "Is the girl making fun of me?" he thought, and straightway he bounced towards the bell, and was for retreating, as we have seen, when his father's jokes and his mother's entreaties caused him to pause and stay where he was. He conducted the young lady down to dinner in a dubious and agitated frame of mind. "Does she really think I am handsome?" thought he, "or is she only making game of me?" We have talked of Joseph Sedley being as vain as a girl. Heaven help us! the girls have only to turn the tables, and say of one of their own sex, "She is as vain as a man," and they will have perfect reason. The bearded creatures are quite as eager for praise, quite as finikin over their toilettes, quite as proud of their personal advantages, quite as conscious of their powers of fascination, as any coquette in the world. Downstairs, then, they went, Joseph very red and blushing, Rebecca very modest, and holding her green eyes downwards. She was dressed in white, with bare shoulders as white as snow--the picture of youth, unprotected innocence, and humble virgin simplicity. "I must be very quiet," thought Rebecca, "and very much interested about India." Now we have heard how Mrs. Sedley had prepared a fine curry for her son, just as he liked it, and in the course of dinner a portion of this dish was offered to Rebecca. "What is it?" said she, turning an appealing look to Mr. Joseph. "Capital," said he. His mouth was full of it: his face quite red with the delightful exercise of gobbling. "Mother, it's as good as my own curries in India." "Oh, I must try some, if it is an Indian dish," said Miss Rebecca. "I am sure everything must be good that comes from there." "Give Miss Sharp some curry, my dear," said Mr. Sedley, laughing. Rebecca had never tasted the dish before. "Do you find it as good as everything else from India?" said Mr. Sedley. "Oh, excellent!" said Rebecca, who was suffering tortures with the cayenne pepper. "Try a chili with it, Miss Sharp," said Joseph, really interested. "A chili," said Rebecca, gasping. "Oh yes!" She thought a chili was something cool, as its name imported, and was served with some. "How fresh and green they look," she said, and put one into her mouth. It was hotter than the curry; flesh and blood could bear it no longer. She laid down her fork. "Water, for Heaven's sake, water!" she cried. Mr. Sedley burst out laughing (he was a coarse man, from the Stock Exchange, where they love all sorts of practical jokes). "They are real Indian, I assure you," said he. "Sambo, give Miss Sharp some water." The paternal laugh was echoed by Joseph, who thought the joke capital. The ladies only smiled a little. They thought poor Rebecca suffered too much. She would have liked to choke old Sedley, but she swallowed her mortification as well as she had the abominable curry before it, and as soon as she could speak, said, with a comical, good-humoured air, "I ought to have remembered the pepper which the Princess of Persia puts in the cream-tarts in the Arabian Nights. Do you put cayenne into your cream-tarts in India, sir?" Old Sedley began to laugh, and thought Rebecca was a good-humoured girl. Joseph simply said, "Cream-tarts, Miss? Our cream is very bad in Bengal. We generally use goats' milk; and, 'gad, do you know, I've got to prefer it!" "You won't like EVERYTHING from India now, Miss Sharp," said the old gentleman; but when the ladies had retired after dinner, the wily old fellow said to his son, "Have a care, Joe; that girl is setting her cap at you." "Pooh! nonsense!" said Joe, highly flattered. "I recollect, sir, there was a girl at Dumdum, a daughter of Cutler of the Artillery, and afterwards married to Lance, the surgeon, who made a dead set at me in the year '4--at me and Mulligatawney, whom I mentioned to you before dinner--a devilish good fellow Mulligatawney--he's a magistrate at Budgebudge, and sure to be in council in five years. Well, sir, the Artillery gave a ball, and Quintin, of the King's 14th, said to me, 'Sedley,' said he, 'I bet you thirteen to ten that Sophy Cutler hooks either you or Mulligatawney before the rains.' 'Done,' says I; and egad, sir--this claret's very good. Adamson's or Carbonell's?" A slight snore was the only reply: the honest stockbroker was asleep, and so the rest of Joseph's story was lost for that day. But he was always exceedingly communicative in a man's party, and has told this delightful tale many scores of times to his apothecary, Dr. Gollop, when he came to inquire about the liver and the blue-pill. Being an invalid, Joseph Sedley contented himself with a bottle of claret besides his Madeira at dinner, and he managed a couple of plates full of strawberries and cream, and twenty-four little rout cakes that were lying neglected in a plate near him, and certainly (for novelists have the privilege of knowing everything) he thought a great deal about the girl upstairs. "A nice, gay, merry young creature," thought he to himself. "How she looked at me when I picked up her handkerchief at dinner! She dropped it twice. Who's that singing in the drawing-room? 'Gad! shall I go up and see?" But his modesty came rushing upon him with uncontrollable force. His father was asleep: his hat was in the hall: there was a hackney- coach standing hard by in Southampton Row. "I'll go and see the Forty Thieves," said he, "and Miss Decamp's dance"; and he slipped away gently on the pointed toes of his boots, and disappeared, without waking his worthy parent. "There goes Joseph," said Amelia, who was looking from the open windows of the drawing-room, while Rebecca was singing at the piano. "Miss Sharp has frightened him away," said Mrs. Sedley. "Poor Joe, why WILL he be so shy?" 第三章　利蓓加遇见了敌人 两个姑娘进门的时候，一个肥胖臃肿的人正在壁炉旁边看报。他穿着鹿皮裤子，统上有流苏的靴子，围着好几条宽大的领巾，几乎直耸到鼻子；上身是红条子的背心，苹果绿的外衣，上面的铁扣子差不多有半喀郎银元那么大。这一套打扮，正是当年花花公子时行的晨装。他看见女孩子们进来，从安乐椅里直跳起来，满面通红，恨不得把整个脸儿缩到领巾里面去。 　　爱米丽亚拉着他伸出来的两个指头摇了一下，笑道：“乔瑟夫，这儿没有外人，只是你妹妹罢了。你知道吗，我回了家不走了。这位就是你听见我说起的朋友，夏泼小姐。” 　　缩在领巾里面的头哆嗦得利害，开言道：“没有说起，从来没有说起！我的意思是——听见你说起过的。天气冷得要死，小姐。”说完，他用尽力气拨着火，其实当时正是六月中旬的天气。 　　利蓓加虽然是对爱米丽亚窃窃私语，可是声音很响。她说：“他长得很漂亮。” 　　爱米丽亚答道：“是吗？让我来告诉他。” 　　夏泼小姐往后倒退了一步，怯生生的活像一头小鹿，口里说道：“宝贝儿！你怎么也不准告诉他的！”她先前已经斯文腼腆的向那位先生行了个屈膝礼，两眼一直羞羞涩涩瞧着地毯，居然能够看见他的相貌，真是稀罕事儿。 　　爱米丽亚对着拨火棒说道：“哥哥，多谢你送给我那么好看的披肩。披肩真美，你说是不是，利蓓加？” 　　夏泼小姐翻起眼睛来向着天，眼光从地毯上直接移到烛台上，接口道“唷！美极了！” 　　乔瑟夫气喘吁吁的把火棒火钳弄得一片响，一张黄脸皮红得不能再红。他妹妹接着对他说道：“乔瑟夫，可惜我没有这么漂亮的礼物送给你。我在学校里的时候给你绣了一副挺美的背带。” 　　做哥哥的认真着急起来，嚷嚷着说：“老天哪！爱米丽亚，你这是什么意思？”老实的家伙说着话，一面用全身的力气扯住铃带子拉铃，把带子一扯两截，越发觉得狼狈不堪，说道：“看老天的面子，给我出去看看我的便车是不是在门口。我不能再等了。我非走不可了。我那马夫真该死！我非走不可了。” 　　他们的爸爸刚好在这时候走进来。他是英国商人本色，手里颠着一把印戳子，铧鎯铧鎯的响，他问道：“怎么了，爱米？” 　　“乔瑟夫要我去瞧瞧他的——他的便车是不是在门口。爸爸，便车究竟是怎么样的？” 　　老先生口角相当俏皮，答道：“便车就是一匹马拉的轿子。” 　　乔瑟夫听了这话，哈哈大笑。笑到一半，可巧和夏泼小姐四目相遇，他仿佛给人打了一熗，突然停下来不响了。 　　“这位小姐就是你的朋友吗？夏泼小姐，我非常欢迎你来。 　　看来你和爱米两个准在跟乔瑟夫拌嘴，要不然怎么他想走呢？” 　　乔瑟夫说道：“爹，我答应我们公司里的保诺美今儿和他吃饭的。” 　　“胡说！你不是跟你妈说过在家吃饭吗？” 　　“我穿的衣服不合适。” 　　“你瞧他穿的多漂亮！到哪儿吃饭都行。对不对，夏泼小姐？” 　　他这么一说，夏泼小姐当然回头瞧着朋友，两个人一块儿格格的笑起来，老头儿听了非常的得意。他看见自己的笑话说得很成功，便接连着说下去道：“在平克顿女子学校里面有这种鹿皮裤子没有？” 　　乔瑟夫嚷道：“老天爷！爸爸，你这是怎么说！” 　　“嗳唷，这一下我可伤了他的心了。亲爱的赛特笠太太，我提起他的鹿皮裤子，把他气坏了。不信你问夏泼小姐。乔瑟夫，来来来，跟夏泼小姐交个朋友。咱们一块儿下去吃饭。” 　　“乔瑟夫，今儿的比劳①是配着你的胃口做的。你爸爸又从鱼市场带了一条最好的比目鱼回来。” 　　-------- 　　①一种土耳其菜，用米饭、禽类或羊肉、葡萄干、杏仁等一起煨过，再加甜汁和炸洋葱。 　　“来吧，来吧，你陪着夏泼小姐下楼，我来招呼这两个年轻女的。”做爸爸的说了这话，一手扶着太太，一手拉着女儿，兴高采烈的跟着下去。 　　利蓓加打定主意要收服这个肥大的花花公子，请各位太太小姐别怪她。一般说来，娴静知礼的小姐少不得把物色丈夫这件工作交给妈妈去做，可是夏泼小姐没有慈爱的母亲替她处理这么细致烦难的事儿，她自己不动手，谁来代替呢？女孩儿们为什么要出入交际场所，还不是因为她们有崇高的志向，愿意出嫁吗？她们为什么成群结队到温泉去？为什么连着好几个月每天晚上跳舞直跳到早上五点钟？为什么孜孜不倦的弹钢琴练奏鸣曲？为什么肯出一基尼一小时的学费，到时髦的唱歌先生那里学唱，而且一学就是四支歌儿？胳膊长得美丽，胳膊肘生得细巧的姑娘还学竖琴呢！她们为什么模仿古代的箭手，戴着小绿帽子，插着鸟毛，还不是想射倒一个“合适”的青年公子吗？做父母的也都是场面上的人，为什么肯卷起地毯，把屋子里翻腾得乱七八糟，在一年的收入里面抽出五分之一来请客，开跳舞会，用冰冻的香槟酒款待客人呢？难道是真心诚意的爱人类，大公无私的让年轻的一代跳舞作乐吗？呸！他们要嫁女儿啊！忠厚的赛特笠太太是慈爱不过的，心里早已为她的爱米丽亚定了二十来个计划。咱们亲爱的利蓓加，无倚无靠，比她朋友更需要丈夫，自然更应该努力了。她的想像力本来就很丰富，又受过《天方夜谈》和《哥特氏①地理学》这两本书的熏陶，因此她问准了爱米丽亚的哥哥的确有钱，就给自己造了个灿烂辉煌的空中楼阁。那时她正在换衣服准备下去吃饭，一面打扮，一面幻想自己是楼阁里的女主人！她还有个丈夫，不过那时还没有见过，因此他的形态面貌是模模糊糊的。她仿佛看见自己重重叠叠的穿戴了披肩、包头布和钻石项链，骑着大象去参拜蒙古大汗，大象的步伐就配着《蓝胡子》歌剧②中进行曲的节奏。这如意算盘真像阿拉那斯加做的梦③。除了年轻人，谁也看不见这般美丽的景象。女孩子们想入非非的从古至今多的是；像利蓓加·夏泼一样做着迷人的白日梦的姑娘，又岂止她一个？ 　　-------- 　　①哥特（William　Guthrie，1708—70），苏格兰作家，所著《哥特氏地理学》风行甚久，十九世纪初叶并有法文译本。 　　②《蓝胡子》原是十七世纪法国诗人贝罗（Perrault）所著的童话，蓝胡子是个财主，凡是嫁给他的女人都活不长。最后娶的妻子名法蒂玛，有一次蓝胡子有事出门，法蒂玛不遵丈夫之嘱，擅自开了密室的门，发现丈夫好几个前妻的尸身。蓝胡子回来，见秘密已经揭穿，准备将她刺死，幸而她的哥哥们及时赶到，杀死蓝胡子，救了她的性命。这故事曾在1798年编成歌剧，由凯莱（Michael　Kelly）作曲，考尔曼（Georgeu　Colman）作词。 　　③《天方夜谈》中的人物。他把父亲的遗产买了一篮子玻璃器皿，幻想着靠了这些东西做买卖做得一帆风顺，不觉手舞足蹈起来，把一篮子碗盏都打破了。 　　乔瑟夫·赛特笠比他妹妹大十二岁，在东印度公司①民政部做事。我写这本书的时候，在《东印度纪录》的孟加拉分刊上有他的名字。他是卜格雷·窝拉地方的收税官。人人都知道，这个职位既体面又赚钱。读者如果要知道乔瑟夫后来高升到什么地位，也可以参考上面所说的刊物。 　　-------- 　　①东印度公司最初是私营商业机关，在1773年后已经控制印度的政权，1858年正式由英政府接管。 　　卜克雷·窝拉所在的地区风景很美，可是人迹罕至，卑湿而多树。大家常到那里去打竹鸡，因此出了名。在那儿也常碰得上老虎。乔瑟夫做了收税官之后，写给父母的信上说，离他那里四十里地就是拉姆根奇，是州长常驻的地点，再过去三十里又有骑兵营。他在这有趣的地方一个人过了八年。军中的特派队一年去两回，把他征收的税款收齐了交到加尔各答去。除此之外，他终年看不见一个文明人。 　　算他运气好，正在那时害了肝病，必须回到欧洲去医治，才算有机会在本国享福。他在伦敦的时候不和父母住在一起，却拿出风流单身汉的款儿来，租了房子另过。他出国以前年纪还小，没有尝过时髦人的各种快乐，现在回家，便专心致志的寻欢作乐起来。他坐了马车在公园里兜风；到有名的酒菜馆吃饭（当时还没有东方俱乐部呢）；随着时下的风气，常常上戏院；有的时候费了好大的劲儿，穿上窄窄的外衣，戴上硬边的帽子，去听歌剧。 　　他后来回到印度，一提起那一段寻欢作乐的日子，总是眉飞色舞，口气里好像他和白鲁美尔①两人是当时豪华公子队里的尖儿。这些话他一直到老说不厌。其实他虽然住在伦敦，却跟他在卜克雷·窝拉的时候一样寂寞。他差不多一个朋友都没有，如果他没有生肝病，没有医生来看他，没有他的蓝色丸药陪着他，准会活活闷死。他生性懒惰，脾气浮躁，又爱吃，又爱喝，一看见女人就吓得半死。勒塞尔广场家里人多热闹；他的父亲是个性情随和的老头儿，很爱开玩笑，说的话常常扫他的面子，害得他不敢多回老家。乔瑟夫因为自己身材长得太肥硕，心里着急，着实感到烦恼。他有时也会下个横劲，努力把身上多余的油脂去掉些儿，可是爱舒服图口腹的脾气很快的打消了矫正缺点的决心，不知不觉的恢复一日三食的习惯了。他打扮得并不漂亮，可是花在这上面的精神可了不得，一天得费好几个钟头收拾他那肥胖的身子呢。他的佣人在他衣服上大大的捞了一笔钱。他的梳妆台上摆满了各种香油香水；过时的美人儿用的化妆品也不能比他多。他指望给自己捏出个细腰来，把当年所有的紧身、腰带、肚箍全试用过了。恰像所有的胖子一样，他老把衣服做得太紧，而且爱挑颜色鲜艳的料子和最花哨的式样。他好不容易的把衣服穿好之后，下午一个人坐了马车逛公园，然后回家换一套衣服，又一个人到廊下咖啡馆吃饭。他像女孩子一般爱虚荣——也许就是因为他的虚荣心太重，所以才异乎寻常的怕羞，初出茅庐的利蓓加小姐如果能够驾驭这样一位先生，真算得上出人头地的聪明了。 　　-------- 　　①白鲁美尔（George　Bryan　Brummel，1778—1840），当时英国有名的纨袴子弟。 　　利蓓加的第一步走得很巧妙。她夸奖赛特笠长得漂亮，因为知道爱米丽亚准会去告诉妈妈。做妈妈的多半又会说给乔瑟夫听。就算她不去传话，听得人家称赞儿子，心里总是高兴的。天下为娘的都是一样心肠。沙哀科兰克斯虽然是个女巫，如果听见人家说她儿子开力本①跟太阳神阿波罗一般漂亮，准觉得得意。再说，利蓓加说话的声音又响，说不定乔瑟夫·赛特笠本人就会无意之中听见这话。事实上他的确已经听见了。他心底里一向自以为一表堂堂，一听这话，快活得胖身子里面条条筋络都抖动起来。可是接着他又起了疑团，想道：“这女孩子莫非在开我的玩笑？”这么一想，他立刻就跳过去拉铃，准备逃走，后来还是他爹说着笑话，他妈妈央告着，才算把他留下来。这些事上面已经说过了。他陪着夏泼小姐下楼的时候，心里疑疑惑惑，一方面又觉得很兴奋。他想：“不知道她是真的觉得我漂亮，还是在取笑我。”我刚才不是形容乔瑟夫像女孩子一样爱虚荣吗？求老天爷发慈悲！女孩子们也可以用同样的手段对咱们报复，讽刺女人像男人一样爱虚荣。这句话说的一些不错。满面胡子的男子汉往往像最爱卖俏的姑娘一样，喜欢听人家的奉承，打扮的时候吹毛求疵，长得漂亮些就自鸣得意，对于自己迷人的本事估计得清楚着呢。 　　-------- 　　①莎士比亚《暴风雨》一剧中的一个又丑又笨的角色。 　　他们一路下楼，乔瑟夫涨红了脸，利蓓加举止端庄，一双绿眼睛望着地下。她穿了一身白衣服，露出雪白的肩膀；年纪轻轻的，越显得天真烂漫，活是个又娴静又纯洁的小姑娘。 　　她想；“我该装得很沉静，同时表示对印度发生兴趣。” 　　咱们已经听说赛特笠太太配着儿子的胃口预备下一盘精美的咖哩辣酱，吃饭的时候，佣人把这盘菜送到利蓓加面前，她做出小鸟依人的姿态对乔瑟夫看了一眼，说道：“这是什么？” 　　他的嘴里塞满了咖哩，狼吞虎咽的吃得高兴，脸都红了，说道：“妙得很，妈妈。这咖哩酱跟我在印度吃的一样好。”利蓓加小姐说道：“啊这是印度菜吗？那我非尝点儿不可。 　　从印度来的东西都好。” 　　赛特笠先生笑道：“亲爱的，给夏泼小姐一点儿咖哩酱。” 　　利蓓加以前从来没有尝过这种菜。 　　赛特笠先生问道：“你看这咖哩酱是不是跟别的印度东西一样好呢？” 　　利蓓加给胡椒辣得说不出的苦，答道：“嗳，好吃极了。” 　　乔瑟夫一听这句话合了意，便道：“夏泼小姐，跟‘洁冽’①一块儿吃吃看。” 　　-------- 　　①洁冽（Chili）也是一种辣菜，可是和Chilly（冷冰冰）声音相似。 　　利蓓加听见这名字，以为是什么凉爽的菜蔬，喘着气回答道：“洁冽吗？好的！”菜上来之后，她说：“你看这东西真是又绿又新鲜。”说着，吃了一口。不料洁冽比咖哩更辣。人都是血肉做的，哪里挡得住这样的苦楚，辣得她放下叉子叫道：“给我点儿水，给我点儿水，天哪！”赛特笠先生是个老粗，向来在证券市场做买卖，同行的人都爱恶作剧，所以他一听这话，哈哈大笑起来，说道：“这才是真正的印度货呢！ 　　三菩，给夏泼小姐拿点儿开水来。” 　　乔瑟夫觉得这次恶作剧妙不可言，也跟着爸爸一起大笑。母女两个看着利蓓加可怜，只不过微笑一下。利蓓加恨不得把赛特笠老头儿一把掐死。幸而她有涵养，刚才勉强吞下了难吃的咖哩酱，如今又竭力压制下心里的气恼。等到她能够开口说话的时候，就做出很幽默的样子，和颜悦色的说道：“《天方夜谈》里面说波斯公主在奶油饼里搁胡椒。我刚才要是记得这故事就好了。你们印度的奶油饼里也搁胡椒吗？” 　　赛特笠老头儿笑起来，觉得利蓓加脾气不错。乔瑟夫只说：“小姐，你说奶油饼吗？孟加拉的奶油糟透了。我们通常都用羊奶做奶油。唉，我不吃也没有办法。” 　　老头儿说：“夏泼小姐，你现在不喜欢所有的印度东西了吧？”太太小姐们走了之后，滑头的老家伙对儿子说：“乔，留心点儿。那女孩儿看上你了。” 　　乔得意的了不得，说道：“胡说，胡说！我记得从前在邓姆邓姆有个女孩子，是炮兵营里格脱勒的女儿，后来嫁给外科医生兰斯的。她在一八○四那年紧紧的追着我不放。她还追墨力格托尼。墨力格托尼是个顶呱呱的好人，吃饭以前我还跟你说来着。现在他是勃奇勃奇的州长，要不了五年一定能做参议员。我刚才说到那回炮兵营里开跳舞会，第十四联队的奎丁对我说：‘赛特笠，我把十三镑对你的十镑合你赌个东道，苏菲·格脱勒不出两年准能到手一个丈夫，不是你就是墨力格托尼，’他说的。我说：‘赌就赌吧！’喝！后来—— 　　这红酒不错。在哪家买的？阿顿姆生还是卡博耐尔？” 　　那老实的股票商人没说话，只轻轻的打呼噜，原来他已经睡着了，乔瑟夫的故事也就没有再讲下去。他在男人堆里说话多得很。每逢给他治病的高洛浦医生来看望他，问问他肝病好些没有，蓝丸药吃了灵不灵，他就常常对他讲这故事，已经讲过几十回了。 　　乔瑟夫·赛特笠因为病着，所以吃饭的时候除了喝西班牙白酒之外又喝一瓶红酒，还吃了满满两碟子奶油草莓。他手边一个盘子里有二十四个小油酥饼，别人都不吃，因此也归他受用。他心里惦记着楼上的女孩子（写小说的人有个特别的权利，什么事都瞒不过他），肚里思忖道：“那小东西不错，她兴致很高，又有趣儿。吃饭的时候我替她捡手帕，她瞧着我怪有意思似的。她的手帕掉在地下两回呢。这会儿谁在客厅里唱歌？让我上去瞧瞧。” 　　不幸他突然一阵害臊，怎么也压不下去。那时他爸爸睡着了；他的帽子就在过道里，而且在邻近沙乌撒泼顿街上还停着一辆出差马车。他想：“我还是去看‘四十大盗’和第坎泊小姐的跳舞。”于是他踮着脚轻轻溜掉，没有把他那好爸爸给吵醒。 　　那时利蓓加正在一边弹一边唱，爱米丽亚站在客厅里敞开的窗子前面闲眺。她说道：“乔瑟夫走了。”赛特笠太太说：“夏泼小姐把他吓跑了。可怜的乔，他干吗那么怕羞呢！”

CHAPTER IV The Green Silk Purse Poor Joe's panic lasted for two or three days; during which he did not visit the house, nor during that period did Miss Rebecca ever mention his name. She was all respectful gratitude to Mrs. Sedley; delighted beyond measure at the Bazaars; and in a whirl of wonder at the theatre, whither the good-natured lady took her. One day, Amelia had a headache, and could not go upon some party of pleasure to which the two young people were invited: nothing could induce her friend to go without her. "What! you who have shown the poor orphan what happiness and love are for the first time in her life--quit YOU? Never!" and the green eyes looked up to Heaven and filled with tears; and Mrs. Sedley could not but own that her daughter's friend had a charming kind heart of her own. As for Mr. Sedley's jokes, Rebecca laughed at them with a cordiality and perseverance which not a little pleased and softened that good- natured gentleman. Nor was it with the chiefs of the family alone that Miss Sharp found favour. She interested Mrs. Blenkinsop by evincing the deepest sympathy in the raspberry-jam preserving, which operation was then going on in the Housekeeper's room; she persisted in calling Sambo "Sir," and "Mr. Sambo," to the delight of that attendant; and she apologised to the lady's maid for giving her trouble in venturing to ring the bell, with such sweetness and humility, that the Servants' Hall was almost as charmed with her as the Drawing Room. Once, in looking over some drawings which Amelia had sent from school, Rebecca suddenly came upon one which caused her to burst into tears and leave the room. It was on the day when Joe Sedley made his second appearance. Amelia hastened after her friend to know the cause of this display of feeling, and the good-natured girl came back without her companion, rather affected too. "You know, her father was our drawing-master, Mamma, at Chiswick, and used to do all the best parts of our drawings." "My love! I'm sure I always heard Miss Pinkerton say that he did not touch them--he only mounted them." "It was called mounting, Mamma. Rebecca remembers the drawing, and her father working at it, and the thought of it came upon her rather suddenly--and so, you know, she--" "The poor child is all heart," said Mrs. Sedley. "I wish she could stay with us another week," said Amelia. "She's devilish like Miss Cutler that I used to meet at Dumdum, only fairer. She's married now to Lance, the Artillery Surgeon. Do you know, Ma'am, that once Quintin, of the 14th, bet me--" "O Joseph, we know that story," said Amelia, laughing. Never mind about telling that; but persuade Mamma to write to Sir Something Crawley for leave of absence for poor dear Rebecca: here she comes, her eyes red with weeping." "I'm better, now," said the girl, with the sweetest smile possible, taking good-natured Mrs. Sedley's extended hand and kissing it respectfully. "How kind you all are to me! All," she added, with a laugh, "except you, Mr. Joseph." "Me!" said Joseph, meditating an instant departure "Gracious Heavens! Good Gad! Miss Sharp!' "Yes; how could you be so cruel as to make me eat that horrid pepper-dish at dinner, the first day I ever saw you? You are not so good to me as dear Amelia." "He doesn't know you so well," cried Amelia. "I defy anybody not to be good to you, my dear," said her mother. "The curry was capital; indeed it was," said Joe, quite gravely. "Perhaps there was NOT enough citron juice in it--no, there was NOT." "And the chilis?" "By Jove, how they made you cry out!" said Joe, caught by the ridicule of the circumstance, and exploding in a fit of laughter which ended quite suddenly, as usual. "I shall take care how I let YOU choose for me another time," said Rebecca, as they went down again to dinner. "I didn't think men were fond of putting poor harmless girls to pain." "By Gad, Miss Rebecca, I wouldn't hurt you for the world." "No," said she, "I KNOW you wouldn't"; and then she gave him ever so gentle a pressure with her little hand, and drew it back quite frightened, and looked first for one instant in his face, and then down at the carpet-rods; and I am not prepared to say that Joe's heart did not thump at this little involuntary, timid, gentle motion of regard on the part of the simple girl. It was an advance, and as such, perhaps, some ladies of indisputable correctness and gentility will condemn the action as immodest; but, you see, poor dear Rebecca had all this work to do for herself. If a person is too poor to keep a servant, though ever so elegant, he must sweep his own rooms: if a dear girl has no dear Mamma to settle matters with the young man, she must do it for herself. And oh, what a mercy it is that these women do not exercise their powers oftener! We can't resist them, if they do. Let them show ever so little inclination, and men go down on their knees at once: old or ugly, it is all the same. And this I set down as a positive truth. A woman with fair opportunities, and without an absolute hump, may marry WHOM SHE LIKES. Only let us be thankful that the darlings are like the beasts of the field, and don't know their own power. They would overcome us entirely if they did. "Egad!" thought Joseph, entering the dining-room, "I exactly begin to feel as I did at Dumdum with Miss Cutler." Many sweet little appeals, half tender, half jocular, did Miss Sharp make to him about the dishes at dinner; for by this time she was on a footing of considerable familiarity with the family, and as for the girls, they loved each other like sisters. Young unmarried girls always do, if they are in a house together for ten days. As if bent upon advancing Rebecca's plans in every way--what must Amelia do, but remind her brother of a promise made last Easter holidays--"When I was a girl at school," said she, laughing--a promise that he, Joseph, would take her to Vauxhall. "Now," she said, "that Rebecca is with us, will be the very time." "O, delightful!" said Rebecca, going to clap her hands; but she recollected herself, and paused, like a modest creature, as she was. "To-night is not the night," said Joe. "Well, to-morrow." "To-morrow your Papa and I dine out," said Mrs. Sedley. "You don't suppose that I'm going, Mrs. Sed?" said her husband, "and that a woman of your years and size is to catch cold, in such an abominable damp place?" 'The children must have someone with them," cried Mrs. Sedley. "Let Joe go," said-his father, laughing. "He's big enough." At which speech even Mr. Sambo at the sideboard burst out laughing, and poor fat Joe felt inclined to become a parricide almost. "Undo his stays!" continued the pitiless old gentleman. "Fling some water in his face, Miss Sharp, or carry him upstairs: the dear creature's fainting. Poor victim! carry him up; he's as light as a feather!" "If I stand this, sir, I'm d------!" roared Joseph. "Order Mr. Jos's elephant, Sambo!" cried the father. "Send to Exeter 'Change, Sambo"; but seeing Jos ready almost to cry with vexation, the old joker stopped his laughter, and said, holding out his hand to his son, "It's all fair on the Stock Exchange, Jos--and, Sambo, never mind the elephant, but give me and Mr. Jos a glass of Champagne. Boney himself hasn't got such in his cellar, my boy!" A goblet of Champagne restored Joseph's equanimity, and before the bottle was emptied, of which as an invalid he took two-thirds, he had agreed to take the young ladies to Vauxhall. "The girls must have a gentleman apiece," said the old gentleman. "Jos will be sure to leave Emmy in the crowd, he will be so taken up with Miss Sharp here. Send to 96, and ask George Osborne if he'll come." At this, I don't know in the least for what reason, Mrs. Sedley looked at her husband and laughed. Mr. Sedley's eyes twinkled in a manner indescribably roguish, and he looked at Amelia; and Amelia, hanging down her head, blushed as only young ladies of seventeen know how to blush, and as Miss Rebecca Sharp never blushed in her life--at least not since she was eight years old, and when she was caught stealing jam out of a cupboard by her godmother. "Amelia had better write a note," said her father; "and let George Osborne see what a beautiful handwriting we have brought back from Miss Pinkerton's. Do you remember when you wrote to him to come on Twelfth-night, Emmy, and spelt twelfth without the f?" "That was years ago," said Amelia. "It seems like yesterday, don't it, John?" said Mrs. Sedley to her husband; and that night in a conversation which took place in a front room in the second floor, in a sort of tent, hung round with chintz of a rich and fantastic India pattern, and double with calico of a tender rose-colour; in the interior of which species of marquee was a featherbed, on which were two pillows, on which were two round red faces, one in a laced nightcap, and one in a simple cotton one, ending in a tassel--in a CURTAIN LECTURE, I say, Mrs. Sedley took her husband to task for his cruel conduct to poor Joe. "It was quite wicked of you, Mr. Sedley," said she, "to torment the poor boy so." "My dear," said the cotton-tassel in defence of his conduct, "Jos is a great deal vainer than you ever were in your life, and that's saying a good deal. Though, some thirty years ago, in the year seventeen hundred and eighty--what was it?--perhaps you had a right to be vain--I don't say no. But I've no patience with Jos and his dandified modesty. It is out-Josephing Joseph, my dear, and all the while the boy is only thinking of himself, and what a fine fellow he is. I doubt, Ma'am, we shall have some trouble with him yet. Here is Emmy's little friend making love to him as hard as she can; that's quite clear; and if she does not catch him some other will. That man is destined to be a prey to woman, as I am to go on 'Change every day. It's a mercy he did not bring us over a black daughter- in-law, my dear. But, mark my words, the first woman who fishes for him, hooks him." "She shall go off to-morrow, the little artful creature," said Mrs. Sedley, with great energy. "Why not she as well as another, Mrs. Sedley? The girl's a white face at any rate. I don't care who marries him. Let Joe please himself." And presently the voices of the two speakers were hushed, or were replaced by the gentle but unromantic music of the nose; and save when the church bells tolled the hour and the watchman called it, all was silent at the house of John Sedley, Esquire, of Russell Square, and the Stock Exchange. When morning came, the good-natured Mrs. Sedley no longer thought of executing her threats with regard to Miss Sharp; for though nothing is more keen, nor more common, nor more justifiable, than maternal jealousy, yet she could not bring herself to suppose that the little, humble, grateful, gentle governess would dare to look up to such a magnificent personage as the Collector of Boggley Wollah. The petition, too, for an extension of the young lady's leave of absence had already been despatched, and it would be difficult to find a pretext for abruptly dismissing her. And as if all things conspired in favour of the gentle Rebecca, the very elements (although she was not inclined at first to acknowledge their action in her behalf) interposed to aid her. For on the evening appointed for the Vauxhall party, George Osborne having come to dinner, and the elders of the house having departed, according to invitation, to dine with Alderman Balls at Highbury Barn, there came on such a thunder-storm as only happens on Vauxhall nights, and as obliged the young people, perforce, to remain at home. Mr. Osborne did not seem in the least disappointed at this occurrence. He and Joseph Sedley drank a fitting quantity of port-wine, tete-a-tete, in the dining-room, during the drinking of which Sedley told a number of his best Indian stories; for he was extremely talkative in man's society; and afterwards Miss Amelia Sedley did the honours of the drawing-room; and these four young persons passed such a comfortable evening together, that they declared they were rather glad of the thunder-storm than otherwise, which had caused them to put off their visit to Vauxhall. Osborne was Sedley's godson, and had been one of the family any time these three-and-twenty years. At six weeks old, he had received from John Sedley a present of a silver cup; at six months old, a coral with gold whistle and bells; from his youth upwards he was "tipped" regularly by the old gentleman at Christmas: and on going back to school, he remembered perfectly well being thrashed by Joseph Sedley, when the latter was a big, swaggering hobbadyhoy, and George an impudent urchin of ten years old. In a word, George was as familiar with the family as such daily acts of kindness and intercourse could make him. "Do you remember, Sedley, what a fury you were in, when I cut off the tassels of your Hessian boots, and how Miss--hem!--how Amelia rescued me from a beating, by falling down on her knees and crying out to her brother Jos, not to beat little George?" Jos remembered this remarkable circumstance perfectly well, but vowed that he had totally forgotten it. "Well, do you remember coming down in a gig to Dr. Swishtail's to see me, before you went to India, and giving me half a guinea and a pat on the head? I always had an idea that you were at least seven feet high, and was quite astonished at your return from India to find you no taller than myself." "How good of Mr. Sedley to go to your school and give you the money!" exclaimed Rebecca, in accents of extreme delight. "Yes, and after I had cut the tassels of his boots too. Boys never forget those tips at school, nor the givers." "I delight in Hessian boots," said Rebecca. Jos Sedley, who admired his own legs prodigiously, and always wore this ornamental chaussure, was extremely pleased at this remark, though he drew his legs under his chair as it was made. "Miss Sharp!" said George Osborne, "you who are so clever an artist, you must make a grand historical picture of the scene of the boots. Sedley shall be represented in buckskins, and holding one of the injured boots in one hand; by the other he shall have hold of my shirt-frill. Amelia shall be kneeling near him, with her little hands up; and the picture shall have a grand allegorical title, as the frontispieces have in the Medulla and the spelling-book." "I shan't have time to do it here," said Rebecca. 'I'll do it when --when I'm gone." And she dropped her voice, and looked so sad and piteous, that everybody felt how cruel her lot was, and how sorry they would be to part with her. "O that you could stay longer, dear Rebecca," said Amelia. "Why?" answered the other, still more sadly. "That I may be only the more unhap--unwilling to lose you?" And she turned away her head. Amelia began to give way to that natural infirmity of tears which, we have said, was one of the defects of this silly little thing. George Osborne looked at the two young women with a touched curiosity; and Joseph Sedley heaved something very like a sigh out of his big chest, as he cast his eyes down towards his favourite Hessian boots. "Let us have some music, Miss Sedley--Amelia," said George, who felt at that moment an extraordinary, almost irresistible impulse to seize the above-mentioned young woman in his arms, and to kiss her in the face of the company; and she looked at him for a moment, and if I should say that they fell in love with each other at that single instant of time, I should perhaps be telling an untruth, for the fact is that these two young people had been bred up by their parents for this very purpose, and their banns had, as it were, been read in their respective families any time these ten years. They went off to the piano, which was situated, as pianos usually are, in the back drawing-room; and as it was rather dark, Miss Amelia, in the most unaffected way in the world, put her hand into Mr. Osborne's, who, of course, could see the way among the chairs and ottomans a great deal better than she could. But this arrangement left Mr. Joseph Sedley tete-a-tete with Rebecca, at the drawing-room table, where the latter was occupied in knitting a green silk purse. "There is no need to ask family secrets," said Miss Sharp. "Those two have told theirs." "As soon as he gets his company," said Joseph, "I believe the affair is settled. George Osborne is a capital fellow." "And your sister the dearest creature in the world," said Rebecca. "Happy the man who wins her!" With this, Miss Sharp gave a great sigh. When two unmarried persons get together, and talk upon such delicate subjects as the present, a great deal of confidence and intimacy is presently established between them. There is no need of giving a special report of the conversation which now took place between Mr. Sedley and the young lady; for the conversation, as may be judged from the foregoing specimen, was not especially witty or eloquent; it seldom is in private societies, or anywhere except in very high- flown and ingenious novels. As there was music in the next room, the talk was carried on, of course, in a low and becoming tone, though, for the matter of that, the couple in the next apartment would not have been disturbed had the talking been ever so loud, so occupied were they with their own pursuits. Almost for the first time in his life, Mr. Sedley found himself talking, without the least timidity or hesitation, to a person of the other sex. Miss Rebecca asked him a great number of questions about India, which gave him an opportunity of narrating many interesting anecdotes about that country and himself. He described the balls at Government House, and the manner in which they kept themselves cool in the hot weather, with punkahs, tatties, and other contrivances; and he was very witty regarding the number of Scotchmen whom Lord Minto, the Governor-General, patronised; and then he described a tiger-hunt; and the manner in which the mahout of his elephant had been pulled off his seat by one of the infuriated animals. How delighted Miss Rebecca was at the Government balls, and how she laughed at the stories of the Scotch aides-de-camp, and called Mr. Sedley a sad wicked satirical creature; and how frightened she was at the story of the elephant! "For your mother's sake, dear Mr. Sedley," she said, "for the sake of all your friends, promise NEVER to go on one of those horrid expeditions." "Pooh, pooh, Miss Sharp," said he, pulling up his shirt-collars; "the danger makes the sport only the pleasanter." He had never been but once at a tiger-hunt, when the accident in question occurred, and when he was half killed--not by the tiger, but by the fright. And as he talked on, he grew quite bold, and actually had the audacity to ask Miss Rebecca for whom she was knitting the green silk purse? He was quite surprised and delighted at his own graceful familiar manner. "For any one who wants a purse," replied Miss Rebecca, looking at him in the most gentle winning way. Sedley was going to make one of the most eloquent speeches possible, and had begun--"O Miss Sharp, how--" when some song which was performed in the other room came to an end, and caused him to hear his own voice so distinctly that he stopped, blushed, and blew his nose in great agitation. "Did you ever hear anything like your brother's eloquence?" whispered Mr. Osborne to Amelia. "Why, your friend has worked miracles." "The more the better," said Miss Amelia; who, like almost all women who are worth a pin, was a match-maker in her heart, and would have been delighted that Joseph should carry back a wife to India. She had, too, in the course of this few days' constant intercourse, warmed into a most tender friendship for Rebecca, and discovered a million of virtues and amiable qualities in her which she had not perceived when they were at Chiswick together. For the affection of young ladies is of as rapid growth as Jack's bean-stalk, and reaches up to the sky in a night. It is no blame to them that after marriage this Sehnsucht nach der Liebe subsides. It is what sentimentalists, who deal in very big words, call a yearning after the Ideal, and simply means that women are commonly not satisfied until they have husbands and children on whom they may centre affections, which are spent elsewhere, as it were, in small change. Having expended her little store of songs, or having stayed long enough in the back drawing-room, it now appeared proper to Miss Amelia to ask her friend to sing. "You would not have listened to me," she said to Mr. Osborne (though she knew she was telling a fib), "had you heard Rebecca first." "I give Miss Sharp warning, though," said Osborne, "that, right or wrong, I consider Miss Amelia Sedley the first singer in the world." "You shall hear," said Amelia; and Joseph Sedley was actually polite enough to carry the candles to the piano. Osborne hinted that he should like quite as well to sit in the dark; but Miss Sedley, laughing, declined to bear him company any farther, and the two accordingly followed Mr. Joseph. Rebecca sang far better than her friend (though of course Osborne was free to keep his opinion), and exerted herself to the utmost, and, indeed, to the wonder of Amelia, who had never known her perform so well. She sang a French song, which Joseph did not understand in the least, and which George confessed he did not understand, and then a number of those simple ballads which were the fashion forty years ago, and in which British tars, our King, poor Susan, blue-eyed Mary, and the like, were the principal themes. They are not, it is said, very brilliant, in a musical point of view, but contain numberless good-natured, simple appeals to the affections, which people understood better than the milk-and-water lagrime, sospiri, and felicita of the eternal Donizettian music with which we are favoured now-a-days. Conversation of a sentimental sort, befitting the subject, was carried on between the songs, to which Sambo, after he had brought the tea, the delighted cook, and even Mrs. Blenkinsop, the housekeeper, condescended to listen on the landing-place. Among these ditties was one, the last of the concert, and to the following effect: Ah! bleak and barren was the moor, Ah! loud and piercing was the storm, The cottage roof was shelter'd sure, The cottage hearth was bright and warm--An orphan boy the lattice pass'd, And, as he mark'd its cheerful glow, Felt doubly keen the midnight blast, And doubly cold the fallen snow. They mark'd him as he onward prest, With fainting heart and weary limb; Kind voices bade him turn and rest, And gentle faces welcomed him. The dawn is up--the guest is gone, The cottage hearth is blazing still; Heaven pity all poor wanderers lone! Hark to the wind upon the hill! It was the sentiment of the before-mentioned words, "When I'm gone," over again. As she came to the last words, Miss Sharp's "deep-toned voice faltered." Everybody felt the allusion to her departure, and to her hapless orphan state. Joseph Sedley, who was fond of music, and soft-hearted, was in a state of ravishment during the performance of the song, and profoundly touched at its conclusion. If he had had the courage; if George and Miss Sedley had remained, according to the former's proposal, in the farther room, Joseph Sedley's bachelorhood would have been at an end, and this work would never have been written. But at the close of the ditty, Rebecca quitted the piano, and giving her hand to Amelia, walked away into the front drawing-room twilight; and, at this moment, Mr. Sambo made his appearance with a tray, containing sandwiches, jellies, and some glittering glasses and decanters, on which Joseph Sedley's attention was immediately fixed. When the parents of the house of Sedley returned from their dinner-party, they found the young people so busy in talking, that they had not heard the arrival of the carriage, and Mr. Joseph was in the act of saying, "My dear Miss Sharp, one little teaspoonful of jelly to recruit you after your immense--your--your delightful exertions." "Bravo, Jos!" said Mr. Sedley; on hearing the bantering of which well-known voice, Jos instantly relapsed into an alarmed silence, and quickly took his departure. He did not lie awake all night thinking whether or not he was in love with Miss Sharp; the passion of love never interfered with the appetite or the slumber of Mr. Joseph Sedley; but he thought to himself how delightful it would be to hear such songs as those after Cutcherry--what a distinguee girl she was--how she could speak French better than the Governor- General's lady herself--and what a sensation she would make at the Calcutta balls. "It's evident the poor devil's in love with me," thought he. "She is just as rich as most of the girls who come out to India. I might go farther, and fare worse, egad!" And in these meditations he fell asleep. How Miss Sharp lay awake, thinking, will he come or not to-morrow? need not be told here. To-morrow came, and, as sure as fate, Mr. Joseph Sedley made his appearance before luncheon. He had never been known before to confer such an honour on Russell Square. George Osborne was somehow there already (sadly "putting out" Amelia, who was writing to her twelve dearest friends at Chiswick Mall), and Rebecca was employed upon her yesterday's work. As Joe's buggy drove up, and while, after his usual thundering knock and pompous bustle at the door, the ex-Collector of Boggley Wollah laboured up stairs to the drawing-room, knowing glances were telegraphed between Osborne and Miss Sedley, and the pair, smiling archly, looked at Rebecca, who actually blushed as she bent her fair ringlets over her knitting. How her heart beat as Joseph appeared-- Joseph, puffing from the staircase in shining creaking boots-- Joseph, in a new waistcoat, red with heat and nervousness, and blushing behind his wadded neckcloth. It was a nervous moment for all; and as for Amelia, I think she was more frightened than even the people most concerned. Sambo, who flung open the door and announced Mr. Joseph, followed grinning, in the Collector's rear, and bearing two handsome nosegays of flowers, which the monster had actually had the gallantry to purchase in Covent Garden Market that morning--they were not as big as the haystacks which ladies carry about with them now-a-days, in cones of filigree paper; but the young women were delighted with the gift, as Joseph presented one to each, with an exceedingly solemn bow. "Bravo, Jos!" cried Osborne. "Thank you, dear Joseph," said Amelia, quite ready to kiss her brother, if he were so minded. (And I think for a kiss from such a dear creature as Amelia, I would purchase all Mr. Lee's conservatories out of hand.) "O heavenly, heavenly flowers!" exclaimed Miss Sharp, and smelt them delicately, and held them to her bosom, and cast up her eyes to the ceiling, in an ecstasy of admiration. Perhaps she just looked first into the bouquet, to see whether there was a billet-doux hidden among the flowers; but there was no letter. "Do they talk the language of flowers at Boggley Wollah, Sedley?" asked Osborne, laughing. "Pooh, nonsense!" replied the sentimental youth. "Bought 'em at Nathan's; very glad you like 'em; and eh, Amelia, my dear, I bought a pine-apple at the same time, which I gave to Sambo. Let's have it for tiffin; very cool and nice this hot weather." Rebecca said she had never tasted a pine, and longed beyond everything to taste one. So the conversation went on. I don't know on what pretext Osborne left the room, or why, presently, Amelia went away, perhaps to superintend the slicing of the pine-apple; but Jos was left alone with Rebecca, who had resumed her work, and the green silk and the shining needles were quivering rapidly under her white slender fingers. "What a beautiful, BYOO-OOTIFUL song that was you sang last night, dear Miss Sharp," said the Collector. "It made me cry almost; 'pon my honour it did." "Because you have a kind heart, Mr. Joseph; all the Sedleys have, I think." "It kept me awake last night, and I was trying to hum it this morning, in bed; I was, upon my honour. Gollop, my doctor, came in at eleven (for I'm a sad invalid, you know, and see Gollop every day), and, 'gad! there I was, singing away like--a robin." "O you droll creature! Do let me hear you sing it." "Me? No, you, Miss Sharp; my dear Miss Sharp, do sing it." "Not now, Mr. Sedley," said Rebecca, with a sigh. "My spirits are not equal to it; besides, I must finish the purse. Will you help me, Mr. Sedley?" And before he had time to ask how, Mr. Joseph Sedley, of the East India Company's service, was actually seated tete-a-tete with a young lady, looking at her with a most killing expression; his arms stretched out before her in an imploring attitude, and his hands bound in a web of green silk, which she was unwinding. In this romantic position Osborne and Amelia found the interesting pair, when they entered to announce that tiffin was ready. The skein of silk was just wound round the card; but Mr. Jos had never spoken. "I am sure he will to-night, dear," Amelia said, as she pressed Rebecca's hand; and Sedley, too, had communed with his soul, and said to himself, "'Gad, I'll pop the question at Vauxhall." 第四章　绿丝线的钱袋 乔的恐慌继续了两三天；这可怜虫不肯回家，利蓓加小姐也不提他的名字。她全心都在赛特笠太太身上，对她必恭必敬，仿佛是感恩不尽的样子。这位好心的太太带她出去走走；到了百货商场，她说不出的高兴，到了戏院，她更是不住口的赞叹。一天，有人请她和爱米丽亚出去玩，临时爱米丽亚头痛，利蓓加宁死也不肯一个人去。她说：“全亏了你，我这孤苦伶仃的可怜虫才得到了温暖，尝到了快乐。我怎么能扔下你一个人出去呢？”她翻起眼珠子瞧着天，绿眼睛里含着两包眼泪。赛特笠太太看了，不得不承认女儿的朋友心地厚道，实在招人疼。 　　每逢赛特笠先生说笑话，利蓓加便笑个不停，好像从心里乐出来，好性子的老先生不由得又得意又欢喜。夏泼小姐不但能讨这家主人的好，她见管家娘子白兰金索泊太太在房里做果子酱，表示十分关心，就赢得了她的欢心。她再三叫三菩“先生”或是“三菩先生”，三菩听了心里很受用。她每回打铃使唤上房的女佣人，总对她道歉；态度谦虚，说的话又讨人喜欢。因此不但上房的主人疼她，连下房的佣人也爱她。 　　有一回，大家在看爱米丽亚从学校里要回来的图画。利蓓加翻到一张画儿，忽然痛哭流涕，转身走开了。那天正是乔·赛特笠第二次露脸的日子。 　　爱米丽亚慌忙跟出去打听她伤心的缘故。过了一会儿，好心肠的孩子非常感动的走回来，说道：“妈妈，你知道的，她爹从前是契息克的图画教员。我们那儿最好的画儿全是他的作品。” 　　“亲爱的，我常听得平克顿小姐说他从来不画画儿，只是裱糊装配一下子罢了。” 　　“妈，这种工作本来就叫裱糊装配啊！利蓓加瞧见这画儿，想起她爹从前干活的情形。忽然觉得——所以她就——” 　　赛特笠太太说道：“可怜这孩子真重感情。” 　　爱米丽亚道：“最好请她在这儿再多住一星期。” 　　“她跟我在邓姆邓姆碰见的格脱勒小姐一个样儿，不过皮肤白一些。格脱勒小姐如今嫁了炮兵部队里的外科医生叫兰斯的。你们知道吗，有一回第十四联队的奎丁跟我打赌——” 　　爱米丽亚笑道：“唷，乔瑟夫，这故事我们听过了，不用讲了。不如求妈妈写封信给克劳莱什么爵士，请他再宽限可怜的利蓓加几天。她来了，瞧她的眼睛哭的多红！” 　　利蓓加一脸甜甜的笑容，拉住好心的赛特笠太太向她伸出来的手，恭恭敬敬的吻了一下，说道：“我心上舒服点儿了。你们对我实在好，所有的人全好。”接下去她笑着加了一句说： 　　“乔瑟夫先生，只有你不好。” 　　“天哪！我吗？老天爷！夏泼小姐！”乔瑟夫说着，恨不得马上就逃。 　　“可不是吗？我第一天碰见你，你就请我吃那么难吃的胡椒，真太忍心了。你没有亲爱的爱米丽亚待我好。” 　　爱米丽亚嚷道：“那是因为他跟你不大熟。” 　　她母亲接着说：“亲爱的，谁对你不好，我就骂他。” 　　乔瑟夫正色说道：“那天的咖哩酱妙极了。妙极了。不过也许香橼汁搁得太少了一点——对了，是太少了一点。” 　　“洁冽呢？” 　　“天哪！你一吃洁冽就大声嚷嚷。”乔瑟夫想着当时的情形觉得很滑稽，忍不住放声大笑。可是像平常一样，笑到一半，忽然又住了口。 　　他们下去吃饭的时候，利蓓加对他说：“下回你给我点菜的时候，我可得小心点儿。我从前不知道男人喜欢叫我们这样老实的可怜虫受罪。” 　　“唷，利蓓加小姐，我怎么肯叫你受罪呢？” 　　她答道：“我知道你是好人。”她说到这里，小手就把他的胳膊轻轻的捏了一把。刚一捏，她又惊慌失措的往后一缩，先对他瞅了一眼，然后低头望着楼梯上压地毯的小铜棍子。乔看见天真的女孩儿对自己这么温柔腼腆，仿佛在不知不觉之中流露出心里的真情，一颗心别别的跳将起来，这事我并不否认。 　　你们看，利蓓加在进攻了。斯文知礼的奶奶小姐们或许要骂她不害臊。可是你想，亲爱的利蓓加多么可怜，这些事情全得她亲自出马去做呀！不管你怎么高雅，家里穷得没了佣人，少不得自己扫地。女孩子没有亲爱的妈妈代她对付那小伙子，也只好自己动手。总算天可怜见，这些女的不常把本领施展出来，要不然我们再也挡不住她们的魅力。不管女的多老多丑，只要她们肯假以辞色，男人马上就会屈膝；这是绝对的真理。一个女人只要不当真是个驼背，有了机会总能嫁得着如意郎君。谢天谢地！亏得这些亲爱的小姐们都像野地里的畜生一样，不知道自己的能耐，要不然准会把我们治得服服帖帖。 　　乔瑟夫走进饭厅的时候心里想道：“喝！这会儿我心里的感觉，就像我在邓姆邓姆看见了格脱勒小姐一模一样。”上菜的时候，夏泼小姐娇媚地向乔瑟夫请教，口气宛转柔帖，一半又像开玩笑。她和这家子的人已经混熟了，跟爱米丽亚更是亲密得像同胞姊妹。没结过婚的女孩子只要在一所房子里同住了十天，总是这样相亲相爱。 　　爱米丽亚好像在尽力帮忙利蓓加完成计划，要求乔瑟夫带他们到游乐场去。她说上一年复活节假期里，那时“她还在做小学生”，乔瑟夫答应过她的。她说：“现在利蓓加也在这儿，正是去的时候了。” 　　利蓓加道：“啊哟，多好哇！”她本来想拍手，可是她生性稳重，忽然记得自己的身分，连忙忍住了没拍。 　　乔说：“今儿晚上可不行。” 　　“那么明儿好不好？” 　　赛特笠太太说道：“明天你爸爸跟我得出去吃晚饭。” 　　她丈夫接口道：“赛特笠太太，我不必去了吧？那讨厌的地方潮湿得很，你年纪这么大了，又是个胖子，去了不要伤风吗？” 　　赛特笠太太嚷道：“孩子们总得要个人陪着呀！” 　　做爸爸的笑道：“让乔去吧，他可是够大够胖的了。”他这么一说，连在碗盏柜子旁边的三菩也忍不住失声笑出来，可怜那肥胖的乔恨不得杀死他爸爸。 　　铁石心肠的老头儿接着说道：“快把他的紧身解开。夏泼小姐，洒些儿凉水在他脸上。要不咱们把他抬到楼上去吧！可怜的小宝贝儿要晕过去了。” 　　乔大声喝道：“我死也不受你这种话！” 　　他父亲嚷道：“三菩，把乔瑟夫先生的大象拉过来。到爱克赛脱市场去拉去。”爱说笑话的老头儿看见乔斯气得差点儿掉眼泪，才止了笑，拉着儿子的手说：“乔斯，我们在证券交易所的人都讲个公平交易。三菩，别管大象了，给我跟乔斯先生一人斟一杯香槟酒来。孩子，拿破仑那小子的酒窖里也不见得有这样的好酒①。” 　　-------- 　　①香槟是法国出产的，所以这样说。 　　乔瑟夫喝了一大杯香槟酒，心平气和。一瓶酒没喝完，他已经答应带着两个女孩子上游乐场去。他身体有病，所以把那瓶酒喝掉了三分之二。 　　老头儿说道：“姑娘们一人得有一位先生陪着才行。乔斯忙着招呼夏泼小姐，准会把爱米丽亚丢在人堆里。到九十六号去问问乔治·奥斯本能不能来？” 　　我不懂为什么他一说这话，赛特笠太太就瞅着丈夫笑起来。赛特笠先生眼睛里闪闪发光，满脸顽皮的瞧着爱米丽亚。爱米丽亚红了脸低下头去。只有十七岁的女孩儿才会这么娇羞，利蓓加·夏泼小姐就不行。自从她八岁那年在壁橱里偷糖酱给她姑妈捉出来之后，从此没有红过脸。爱米丽亚的爸爸说：“爱米丽亚应该写张条子给乔治·奥斯本，让他瞧瞧咱们在平克顿女校学的一笔好字。你记得吗？从前你写信给他请他十二晚上来，把字都写别了。” 　　爱米丽亚答道：“那是好几年前的事了。” 　　赛特笠太太对丈夫说：“约翰，这真像是昨天的事，你说对不对？” 　　他们夫妻住的是二层楼的一间前房，睡觉的地方装饰得像个帐篷，四围挂着花布幔子，上面印着鲜明别致的印度式图案，另外衬了淡红布的里子。帐篷里面的床上铺了鸭绒褥子，并排摆着两个枕头。当晚他们夫妻躺着说话，一对红喷喷的圆脸儿就枕着这两个枕头。太太戴的是镶花边的睡帽，先生戴的是式样简单的布帽子，顶上拖着一簇流苏。赛特笠太太因为丈夫难为了可怜的乔，正在对他训话。 　　她说：“赛特笠先生，你何苦逗那可怜的孩子，太不应该了。” 　　流苏帽子替自己辩护道：“亲爱的，乔斯的虚荣心太重，比你当年最爱虚荣的时候还糟糕。你也算利害的了。可是三十年前，——好像是一七八○年吧——倒也怪不得你爱俏。这一点我不否认。可是我实在看不上乔斯那份儿拘拘谨谨的绔袴子弟习气。他实在做得太过火。亲爱的，那孩子一天到晚想着自己，只觉得自己了不起。太太，咱们还有得麻烦呢。谁都看得出来，爱米的小朋友正在拼命的追他。如果她抓不住他，反正有别人来接她的手。他那个人天生是给女人玩弄的。这话没有错，就等于我每天上交易所那样没有错。总算运气好，他没给咱们从印度娶个黑漆漆的媳妇儿回家。瞧着吧，不管什么女人钓他，他就会上钩。” 　　赛特笠太太狠狠的说道：“原来那丫头是个诡计多端的东西，明天就叫她走。” 　　“赛特笠太太，她跟别人不是一样吗？不管怎么，她总算是个白种人。我倒不在乎乔斯娶什么媳妇。他爱怎么着就怎么着。” 　　不久，说话的声音停了，跟着起来的是鼻子里发出来的音乐，听上去虽然轻柔，却不很雅致。这时候，在勒塞尔广场证券交易所经纪人约翰·赛特笠先生的家里真是悄无声息，所能听得到的只有教堂里报时的钟声和守夜人报时的叫声。 　　到了第二天早上，好性子的赛特笠太太也不再打算把她隔夜说的那话儿认真做出来。天下最近人情、最深刻、最普通的感情莫过于为娘的妒忌心，可是赛特笠太太瞧着利蓓加不过是个温柔谦逊的家庭教师，对自己又感激，总不至于胆敢攀附像卜克雷·窝拉的收税官那么了不起的人物。而且她已经替利蓓加写信去要求延迟几天再上工，一时也难找借口赶她出门。 　　温柔的利蓓加合该交运，件件事都凑得巧，连天气也帮她的忙，虽然她本人起先并不知道上天的好意。原定到游乐场去的那天晚上，乔治·奥斯本已经来了；老两口儿要赴宴会，也已经动身到海百莱仓房的鲍尔斯副市长家里去了；忽然一阵大雷雨（这种雷雨只有上游乐场去的时候才碰得上），这几个年轻人没法出门，只好躲在家里。奥斯本先生好像一点儿不在乎。他跟乔瑟夫·赛特笠在饭间里喝了不少葡萄酒，两个人对坐着谈心。乔瑟夫见了男人向来爱说话，因此一面喝酒，一面把他最得意的印度趣事讲了许多。后来大家在客厅里会齐，爱米丽亚做主人，招待其余三位。四个年轻人在一起玩得很快乐，都说亏得下雨打雷，游乐场没有去成反倒有意思。 　　奥斯本是赛特笠的干儿子。二十三年来，这家子一向没有把他当外人。他生下一个半月的时候，约翰·赛特笠送给他一只银杯子。他长到六个月，又收到一件珊瑚做的玩意儿，上面挂着金的哨子和小铃。每逢圣诞节或是他假满回校的时候，老头儿总给他零用钱。他记得清清楚楚，乔瑟夫·赛特笠还揍过他一顿。那时候乔瑟夫已经是个大摇大摆的换毛小公鸡，他自己却还是个十岁的顽童。总而言之，乔治和这家朝夕相处，大家对他又好，当然在这里混得很熟。 　　“赛特笠，你还记得吗？有一回我把你靴子上的流苏铰了下来，你气得不得了。赛特笠小姐——呃——爱米丽亚跟乔斯哥哥跪着，求他别揍小乔治，才免了我一顿好打。” 　　乔斯明明白白记得这件不平凡的事情，可是赌神罚誓说他早已忘了。 　　“你记得吗？你到印度去以前，坐了马车到斯威希泰尔博士学校里来看我，拍拍我的头，给了我一个基尼。我一向以为你至少身高七尺，后来你从印度回来，我发现你不过跟我一样高，真是意想不到。” 　　利蓓加眉飞色舞的嚷道：“赛特笠先生太好了！临走还特地去看你，还给你钱。” 　　“对了，他倒不计较我铰他靴子上的流苏，真是难得。孩子们在学校里拿到零用钱，一辈子都记得。给钱的人自己也忘不了。” 　　利蓓加说：“我喜欢靴子。”乔斯·赛特笠最得意自己一双腿，一向爱穿这种漂亮的靴子，听了这话，虽然把腿缩在椅子下面，心里说不出的得意。 　　乔治·奥斯本说道：“夏泼小姐，你是个挺有才气的画家，可以利用靴子事件做题材，把这庄严的景象画成一幅有历史性的画儿。赛特笠穿了鹿皮裤子，一手拿了铰坏了的靴子，一手抓住我的衬衫皱边。爱米丽亚高高的举起了两只小手，跪在她哥哥旁边。咱们还可以仿照简明读本和拼法本子里第一页插图的方式，给它加上一个堂皇的标题，里面包含着寓言的意味。” 　　利蓓加说道：“我现在没有时间画，等我——等我离了这儿再画吧。”她把声音放得很低，一脸悲悲戚戚的样子，在场的人不由得可怜她命苦，都舍不得放她走。 　　爱米丽亚说道：“亲爱的利蓓加，可惜你不能在这儿多住几天。” 　　利蓓加的神情更凄惨了，她道：“有什么用？到我离开你的时候更伤——更舍不得你了。”说着，扭过头去。爱米丽亚一听这话，忍不住哭起来。我在前面说过，这糊涂的小东西最不长进的地方就是爱哭。乔治·奥斯本觉得很感动，细细的端详着这两个姑娘。乔瑟夫·赛特笠低头看着自己心爱的靴子，大胸脯一起一伏，很像在叹气。 　　乔治说道：“赛特笠小姐——爱米丽亚，来点儿音乐吧！”他那时候忽然把持不住，几乎把她搂在怀里，当着大家的面吻她。她也对他看了一眼。如果说他们两个就在当时相看一眼之中发生了爱情，这话未免过份。两家的父母早已有心把他们两人配成一对，竟可以说这十年来，他们已经订下了不成文的婚约。 　　赛特笠家里的钢琴，按照通常的习惯，搁在客厅后间。那时天色已经昏暗，奥斯本先生当然比爱米丽亚眼睛亮，会在椅子凳子中间找路，因此爱米丽亚很自然的拉着他的手，让他领路摸到钢琴旁边去。他们一走，只剩下乔瑟夫·赛特笠先生和利蓓加两个人傍着客厅里的桌子对面谈心。利蓓加正在用绿丝线织一只钱袋。 　　夏泼小姐说：“家里的秘密是不问而知的。这一对儿已经把他们俩的公开了。” 　　乔瑟夫答道：“只等他做了连长，事情就算放定了。乔治·奥斯本是个顶呱呱的家伙。” 　　利蓓加道：“你妹妹是全世界最可疼的小人儿。谁娶了她真有福气。”说着她重重的叹了一口气。 　　两个单身的男女在一起谈起这样细腻的话儿，彼此自然觉得亲密知心。赛特笠先生和利蓓加小姐的一番议论，我不必细写。照上面的一席话看来，他们的谈吐并没有什么俏皮动听的地方。要知道在普通的人家，在随便什么地方，说的话不过如此，只有那些辞藻富丽、结构巧妙的小说里才有例外。那时隔壁房里有人弹琴唱歌，他们说话的时候当然放低了声音，免得妨碍别人。其实隔壁的两个人专心在做自己的事，他们说得再响些也不妨事。 　　赛特笠先生居然能够大大方方、畅畅快快的和女人谈天，真是生平第一遭。利蓓加小姐问了他许多关于印度的问题，因此他得了机会把他知道的许多趣事说给她听。这里面有些是关于印度的，也有关于他本人的。他形容总督府里怎么开跳舞会，在大暑天他们怎么取凉，譬如在屋里装了手拉的风扇，门窗前面挂了打湿的芦帘等等。他讲到投奔在印度总督明多勋爵①门下的一大群苏格兰人，口角俏皮极了。然后他又说到猎虎的经验，说是有一回一只老虎发威，把他的象夫从象背上直拖下来。利蓓加小姐对于总督府的跳舞会心醉神往；听了苏格兰副官们的故事笑个不住，一面责备赛特笠先生不该这么刻薄。大象的故事可真把她吓坏了。她说：“亲爱的赛特笠先生，看你母亲份上，看你所有的朋友份上，以后快别干这种冒险的事，你非答应我不可。” 　　-------- 　　①明多勋爵（Lord　Minto，1751—1814），英国政治家，苏格兰人，1806年起任印度总督。 　　乔瑟夫拉起领子，答道：“得了，得了，夏泼小姐，危险只能增加打猎的趣味。”其实他只猎过一次虎，就是出乱子的那一回。可怜他几乎丢了性命，倒不是老虎咬他，却是在混战中受了伤。他说的话越多，胆子越大，竟鼓起勇气问利蓓加小姐那绿丝线钱袋是给谁做的。他的态度那么大方，那么随便，连他自己也觉得奇怪，心里着实得意。 　　利蓓加小姐柔媚地向他瞟了一眼，说道：“谁要，我就给谁。”赛特笠先生正要施展口才，说出一篇动人的话来。不想他刚刚开口说到：“啊，夏泼小姐，多么”——隔壁的歌声忽然停了。这样一来，他清清楚楚听见自己的声音，窘得面红耳赤，连忙住了口，慌慌张张的擤着鼻涕。 　　奥斯本先生轻轻的对爱米丽亚说：“你听，你哥哥的口才真了不起。你那朋友真创造了奇迹了。” 　　爱米丽亚小姐答道：“奇迹创造的越多越好。”凡是像个样儿的女人没一个不爱做媒。爱米丽亚当然不是例外，心里只希望乔瑟夫能够娶了太太一同回印度。这几天来她和利蓓加朝夕相处，对她生了极深的感情，在她身上找出千千万万从前在学校里没有发现的德行和惹人怜爱的品性。小姑娘们的感情滋长得最快，像贾克的豆梗一般，一夜的功夫就直入云霄。①结婚以后这种痴情渐渐减退，也是极自然的事。一般情感主义者喜欢用大字眼，称它为“对于理想爱情的渴望”。换句话说，他们认为女人的情感平时只能零星发泄，必须有了丈夫孩子，情感收聚起来有了归宿，自己才能得到满足。 　　-------- 　　①穷苦的贾克得到许多仙豆，第二天起身，发现撒在园里的仙豆长得直入云霄。贾克攀附着豆梗上天，碰到许多奇遇。 　　爱米丽亚把自己会唱的歌儿唱完，觉得在后客厅里已经坐了不少时候，应该请她的朋友也来唱一曲才是。她对奥斯本先生说：“倘若你先听了利蓓加唱歌，就不要听我的了。”话是这么说，她也明知自己在哄人。 　　奥斯本道：“我对夏泼小姐先下个警告，在我听起来，爱米丽亚·赛特笠才是天下第一名歌唱家。这话说的对不对我也不管。” 　　爱米丽亚答道：“你先听了再说。” 　　乔瑟夫·赛特笠客气得很，替利蓓加拿了蜡烛来搁在琴上。奥斯本表示他情愿就在黑地里坐着，可是爱米丽亚笑着反对，不肯再陪他，因此他们两个也跟着乔瑟夫先生过来。利蓓加唱得比她朋友高明得多，而且非常卖力，不过奥斯本有什么意见，别人当然管不着。爱米丽亚从来没有听见她唱得这样好，心里暗暗纳罕。利蓓加先唱了一支法文歌，乔瑟夫一个字都听不懂。奥斯本也老实承认自己听不懂。此后她又唱了好几支四十年前流行的叙事歌曲。歌词很简单，题材不外乎大英水手，英王陛下，可怜的苏珊，蓝眼睛的玛丽等等。据说从音乐的观点来看，这些歌曲并不出色。可是它们所表达的意思单纯近情，一般人一听就明白。现在咱们老听见唐尼隋蒂①的曲子，音调软靡靡的，内容不过是眼泪呀，叹气呀，喜呀，悲呀。两下里比起来，还是简单的民歌强得多。 　　-------- 　　①唐尼隋蒂（Gaetano　Donizetti，1797—1848），意大利作曲家。 　　每逢唱完一支歌以后大家闲谈的时候，说的话也都是些很多情的话儿，和歌曲的内容相称。三菩送了茶点进去，就和厨娘一起站在楼梯转角听唱歌。厨娘听得眉开眼笑。连白兰金索泊太太也屈尊下就，跟他们站在一块儿听。 　　末了唱的一首短歌内容是这样的：—— 　　荒野里凄凉寂寥， 　　大风呼呼的怒号， 　　好在这茅屋顶盖得牢。 　　熊熊的火在炉里烧， 　　过路的孤儿从窗口往里瞧， 　　越觉得风寒雪冷，分外难熬。 　　他心慌意乱，手脚如绵， 　　急忽忽还只顾往前。 　　温柔的声音唤他回来， 　　慈爱的脸儿在门口出现， 　　到黎明，他不能再流连， 　　求上天对流浪者垂怜！ 　　你听，那风吹到了山巅。 　　这支歌的内容和她刚才说的“等我离开了这儿”这句话含意相同。她唱到最后一句，声音沉下去咽住了。在场的人想起她即刻就要动身，连带着又想到她孤苦伶仃的身世。乔瑟夫·赛特笠本来喜欢音乐，心肠又软，利蓓加唱歌的时候，他听得心醉神往，到末了更觉得深深的感动。如果他胆子不那么小，如果方才由乔治安排，让他和赛特笠小姐两人仍旧留在前客厅，那么乔瑟夫·赛特笠就不会再做单身汉子了，我这小说也写不成了。利蓓加唱完了歌，起身拉着爱米丽亚的手一直向蒙眬的前客厅走去。这当儿可巧三菩托着一个盘子进来，里面有夹心面包和糖酱，还有发亮的杯壶。乔瑟夫·赛特笠一看见点心，立刻全神贯注。赛特笠老两口子吃过晚饭回家，看见四个年轻男女谈得很热闹，连他们的马车响都没有留心。只听得乔瑟夫说道：“亲爱的夏泼小姐，吃一小匙子糖酱吧。你刚才唱的真费劲——呃——真好听。应该吃点儿东西补补气。” 　　赛特笠先生接口道：“好哇！乔斯！”乔斯一听见这熟悉的声音在打趣他，慌得不敢作声，过了一会儿就溜掉了。当夜他并没有一宵不寐睁着眼研究自己到底有没有爱上夏泼小姐，因为爱情并不能影响乔瑟夫·赛特笠的胃口和睡眠。不过他想到许多事情，譬如在印度下了办公厅之后听听那些歌儿多么愉快，利蓓加多么出人头地，又想到她的法文说的比总督夫人还好，在加尔各答的跳舞会上准会大出风头。他想：“谁也看得出那可怜的东西爱上了我了。跟那些出国到印度去的女孩子们比一比，她不见得穷到哪儿去。说不定我左等右等，反而挑着个不如她的。”他这么思前想后，就睡着了。 　　关于夏泼小姐在床上眼睁睁的估计“不知他明天来不来？”的情形，这里不必多说。第二天，乔瑟夫·赛特笠午饭以前已经到了，那不放松的劲儿和命运之神不相上下。这是以前从来没有的事，可算是他赏给勒塞尔广场的大面子。那天不知怎么，乔治·奥斯本到得比他还早，害得爱米丽亚好不心烦，原来她正在给契息克林荫道的十二个好朋友写信。利蓓加仍旧在做隔天的活计。卜克雷·窝拉的前任收税官坐着小马车回到家里，按照习惯，先把门环拍得一片响，在门口摆起架子乱了一阵，然后才费一大把力气迈步上楼，到客厅里来。这当儿奥斯本和赛特笠小姐彼此使眼色打电报，很有含蓄的瞧着利蓓加笑。利蓓加低头织钱袋，淡黄头发披在脸上，居然脸红起来。乔瑟夫一进门，她的心扑扑直跳。乔瑟夫穿了新的背心，发亮的靴子格吱格吱的响，累得喘不出气来。他又热又紧张，满面通红，羞答答的把个脸儿藏在厚厚的领巾里面。大家都觉得很窘。爱米丽亚更不行，几乎比当局者还慌张。 　　给乔瑟夫先生通报的是三菩。他嬉皮笑脸的跟在收税官后面，手里捧着两个花球。原来这傻大个儿居然会讨小姐们的好，早上在考文花园附近的市场上买了两束鲜花。现在的姑娘们太太们爱捧草蓬子似的大花球，底下还衬着镂空花纸；乔斯的两束鲜花虽然没有这么大，两个姑娘收了礼物倒很高兴。乔瑟夫送给她们每人一束，一面正色对她们鞠了一个躬。 　　奥斯本嚷道：“好哇，乔斯！” 　　爱米丽亚说：“多谢你，亲爱的乔瑟夫。”她如果不怕哥哥嫌弃，很想吻他一下子。拿我来说，如果爱米丽亚这样的小宝贝儿肯吻我，就是把李先生的花房都买下来也是愿意的。 　　夏泼小姐嚷道：“啊！可爱的花儿！多可爱的花儿！”她轻轻俏俏的把鼻子凑上去闻了一闻，贴胸抱着花球，喜不自禁，翻起眼睛望着天花板。大概她先瞧了一眼，看有没有情书藏在花球里面，不幸什么也没有找着。 　　奥斯本笑着问道：“赛特笠，在卜克雷·窝拉你们是不是也用花朵儿传情达意啊？” 　　多情的公子答道：“得了，少胡说。花儿是在挪顿家买的。只要你们喜欢就好。嗯，爱米丽亚，亲爱的，我还买了一只菠萝蜜，已经交给三菩了。午饭的时候吃吧。这天太热，应该有点儿凉东西吃。”利蓓加说她从来没吃过菠萝蜜，非常非常想尝一下子。 　　他们这样谈着话，后来不知道奥斯本找了个什么推托走出去了。过了一会儿，不懂为什么爱米丽亚也不见了，想来总是看着厨娘切菠萝蜜吧？反正到末了只剩下乔斯和利蓓加两个人。利蓓加继续做活，细长的白手指拿着发亮的针和绿颜色的丝线飞快的编结。 　　收税官说：“亲爱的夏泼小姐，你昨天晚上唱的歌儿真是美——依——极了。我差点儿掉眼泪。真的不骗你。” 　　“乔瑟夫先生，那是因为你心肠好。我觉得赛特笠一家子都是慈悲心肠。” 　　“昨晚上我想着那歌儿，睡都睡不着。今天早上我在床上就试着哼那调子来着。真的不骗你。我的医生高洛浦十一点钟来看我（你知道我身子不好，天天得请高洛浦来看病）。他来的时候啊，我正唱得高兴，简直像——像一只画眉鸟儿。” 　　“唷，你真好玩儿。唱给我听听。” 　　“我？不行，还是你来吧，夏泼小姐。亲爱的夏泼小姐，唱吧！” 　　利蓓加叹了一口气，说道：“这会儿不行，赛特笠先生。我没有这闲情逸致。而且我得先把这钱袋做好。肯帮忙吗，赛特笠先生？”东印度公司里的乔瑟夫·赛特笠先生还没来得及问明白怎么帮忙，不知怎么已经坐了下来，跟一个年轻姑娘面对面的谈起心来。他一脸勾魂摄魄的表情瞧着她，两臂求救似的向她伸开，手上绷着一绞绿丝线让她绕。 　　奥斯本和爱米丽亚回来叫他们吃饭的时候，看见这怪有趣的一对儿还是这么坐着，姿态非常动人。一绞线都绕到纸板上去了，可是乔斯先生仍旧没有开口。 　　爱米丽亚握着利蓓加的手说：“今儿晚上他准会开口，亲爱的。”赛特笠自己也在肚里忖度，暗暗想道：“哈，到了游乐场我就问她去。”

CHAPTER V Dobbin of Ours Cuff's fight with Dobbin, and the unexpected issue of that contest, will long be remembered by every man who was educated at Dr. Swishtail's famous school. The latter Youth (who used to be called Heigh-ho Dobbin, Gee-ho Dobbin, and by many other names indicative of puerile contempt) was the quietest, the clumsiest, and, as it seemed, the dullest of all Dr. Swishtail's young gentlemen. His parent was a grocer in the city: and it was bruited abroad that he was admitted into Dr. Swishtail's academy upon what are called "mutual principles"--that is to say, the expenses of his board and schooling were defrayed by his father in goods, not money; and he stood there--most at the bottom of the school--in his scraggy corduroys and jacket, through the seams of which his great big bones were bursting--as the representative of so many pounds of tea, candles, sugar, mottled-soap, plums (of which a very mild proportion was supplied for the puddings of the establishment), and other commodities. A dreadful day it was for young Dobbin when one of the youngsters of the school, having run into the town upon a poaching excursion for hardbake and polonies, espied the cart of Dobbin & Rudge, Grocers and Oilmen, Thames Street, London, at the Doctor's door, discharging a cargo of the wares in which the firm dealt. Young Dobbin had no peace after that. The jokes were frightful, and merciless against him. "Hullo, Dobbin," one wag would say, "here's good news in the paper. Sugars is ris', my boy." Another would set a sum--"If a pound of mutton-candles cost sevenpence-halfpenny, how much must Dobbin cost?" and a roar would follow from all the circle of young knaves, usher and all, who rightly considered that the selling of goods by retail is a shameful and infamous practice, meriting the contempt and scorn of all real gentlemen. "Your father's only a merchant, Osborne," Dobbin said in private to the little boy who had brought down the storm upon him. At which the latter replied haughtily, "My father's a gentleman, and keeps his carriage"; and Mr. William Dobbin retreated to a remote outhouse in the playground, where he passed a half-holiday in the bitterest sadness and woe. Who amongst us is there that does not recollect similar hours of bitter, bitter childish grief? Who feels injustice; who shrinks before a slight; who has a sense of wrong so acute, and so glowing a gratitude for kindness, as a generous boy? and how many of those gentle souls do you degrade, estrange, torture, for the sake of a little loose arithmetic, and miserable dog-latin? Now, William Dobbin, from an incapacity to acquire the rudiments of the above language, as they are propounded in that wonderful book the Eton Latin Grammar, was compelled to remain among the very last of Doctor Swishtail's scholars, and was "taken down" continually by little fellows with pink faces and pinafores when he marched up with the lower form, a giant amongst them, with his downcast, stupefied look, his dog's-eared primer, and his tight corduroys. High and low, all made fun of him. They sewed up those corduroys, tight as they were. They cut his bed-strings. They upset buckets and benches, so that he might break his shins over them, which he never failed to do. They sent him parcels, which, when opened, were found to contain the paternal soap and candles. There was no little fellow but had his jeer and joke at Dobbin; and he bore everything quite patiently, and was entirely dumb and miserable. Cuff, on the contrary, was the great chief and dandy of the Swishtail Seminary. He smuggled wine in. He fought the town-boys. Ponies used to come for him to ride home on Saturdays. He had his top-boots in his room, in which he used to hunt in the holidays. He had a gold repeater: and took snuff like the Doctor. He had been to the Opera, and knew the merits of the principal actors, preferring Mr. Kean to Mr. Kemble. He could knock you off forty Latin verses in an hour. He could make French poetry. What else didn't he know, or couldn't he do? They said even the Doctor himself was afraid of him. Cuff, the unquestioned king of the school, ruled over his subjects, and bullied them, with splendid superiority. This one blacked his shoes: that toasted his bread, others would fag out, and give him balls at cricket during whole summer afternoons. "Figs" was the fellow whom he despised most, and with whom, though always abusing him, and sneering at him, he scarcely ever condescended to hold personal communication. One day in private, the two young gentlemen had had a difference. Figs, alone in the schoolroom, was blundering over a home letter; when Cuff, entering, bade him go upon some message, of which tarts were probably the subject. "I can't," says Dobbin; "I want to finish my letter." "You CAN'T?" says Mr. Cuff, laying hold of that document (in which many words were scratched out, many were mis-spelt, on which had been spent I don't know how much thought, and labour, and tears; for the poor fellow was writing to his mother, who was fond of him, although she was a grocer's wife, and lived in a back parlour in Thames Street). "You CAN'T?" says Mr. Cuff: "I should like to know why, pray? Can't you write to old Mother Figs to-morrow?" "Don't call names," Dobbin said, getting off the bench very nervous. "Well, sir, will you go?" crowed the cock of the school. "Put down the letter," Dobbin replied; "no gentleman readth letterth." "Well, NOW will you go?" says the other. "No, I won't. Don't strike, or I'll THMASH you," roars out Dobbin, springing to a leaden inkstand, and looking so wicked, that Mr. Cuff paused, turned down his coat sleeves again, put his hands into his pockets, and walked away with a sneer. But he never meddled personally with the grocer's boy after that; though we must do him the justice to say he always spoke of Mr. Dobbin with contempt behind his back. Some time after this interview, it happened that Mr. Cuff, on a sunshiny afternoon, was in the neighbourhood of poor William Dobbin, who was lying under a tree in the playground, spelling over a favourite copy of the Arabian Nights which he had apart from the rest of the school, who were pursuing their various sports--quite lonely, and almost happy. If people would but leave children to themselves; if teachers would cease to bully them; if parents would not insist upon directing their thoughts, and dominating their feelings--those feelings and thoughts which are a mystery to all (for how much do you and I know of each other, of our children, of our fathers, of our neighbour, and how far more beautiful and sacred are the thoughts of the poor lad or girl whom you govern likely to be, than those of the dull and world-corrupted person who rules him?)--if, I say, parents and masters would leave their children alone a little more, small harm would accrue, although a less quantity of as in praesenti might be acquired. Well, William Dobbin had for once forgotten the world, and was away with Sindbad the Sailor in the Valley of Diamonds, or with Prince Ahmed and the Fairy Peribanou in that delightful cavern where the Prince found her, and whither we should all like to make a tour; when shrill cries, as of a little fellow weeping, woke up his pleasant reverie; and looking up, he saw Cuff before him, belabouring a little boy. It was the lad who had peached upon him about the grocer's cart; but he bore little malice, not at least towards the young and small. "How dare you, sir, break the bottle?" says Cuff to the little urchin, swinging a yellow cricket-stump over him. The boy had been instructed to get over the playground wall (at a selected spot where the broken glass had been removed from the top, and niches made convenient in the brick); to run a quarter of a mile; to purchase a pint of rum-shrub on credit; to brave all the Doctor's outlying spies, and to clamber back into the playground again; during the performance of which feat, his foot had slipt, and the bottle was broken, and the shrub had been spilt, and his pantaloons had been damaged, and he appeared before his employer a perfectly guilty and trembling, though harmless, wretch. "How dare you, sir, break it?" says Cuff; "you blundering little thief. You drank the shrub, and now you pretend to have broken the bottle. Hold out your hand, sir." Down came the stump with a great heavy thump on the child's hand. A moan followed. Dobbin looked up. The Fairy Peribanou had fled into the inmost cavern with Prince Ahmed: the Roc had whisked away Sindbad the Sailor out of the Valley of Diamonds out of sight, far into the clouds: and there was everyday life before honest William; and a big boy beating a little one without cause. "Hold out your other hand, sir," roars Cuff to his little schoolfellow, whose face was distorted with pain. Dobbin quivered, and gathered himself up in his narrow old clothes. "Take that, you little devil!" cried Mr. Cuff, and down came the wicket again on the child's hand.--Don't be horrified, ladies, every boy at a public school has done it. Your children will so do and be done by, in all probability. Down came the wicket again; and Dobbin started up. I can't tell what his motive was. Torture in a public school is as much licensed as the knout in Russia. It would be ungentlemanlike (in a manner) to resist it. Perhaps Dobbin's foolish soul revolted against that exercise of tyranny; or perhaps he had a hankering feeling of revenge in his mind, and longed to measure himself against that splendid bully and tyrant, who had all the glory, pride, pomp, circumstance, banners flying, drums beating, guards saluting, in the place. Whatever may have been his incentive, however, up he sprang, and screamed out, "Hold off, Cuff; don't bully that child any more; or I'll--" "Or you'll what?" Cuff asked in amazement at this interruption. "Hold out your hand, you little beast." "I'll give you the worst thrashing you ever had in your life," Dobbin said, in reply to the first part of Cuff's sentence; and little Osborne, gasping and in tears, looked up with wonder and incredulity at seeing this amazing champion put up suddenly to defend him: while Cuff's astonishment was scarcely less. Fancy our late monarch George III when he heard of the revolt of the North American colonies: fancy brazen Goliath when little David stepped forward and claimed a meeting; and you have the feelings of Mr. Reginald Cuff when this rencontre was proposed to him. "After school," says he, of course; after a pause and a look, as much as to say, "Make your will, and communicate your last wishes to your friends between this time and that." "As you please," Dobbin said. "You must be my bottle holder, Osborne." "Well, if you like," little Osborne replied; for you see his papa kept a carriage, and he was rather ashamed of his champion. Yes, when the hour of battle came, he was almost ashamed to say, "Go it, Figs"; and not a single other boy in the place uttered that cry for the first two or three rounds of this famous combat; at the commencement of which the scientific Cuff, with a contemptuous smile on his face, and as light and as gay as if he was at a ball, planted his blows upon his adversary, and floored that unlucky champion three times running. At each fall there was a cheer; and everybody was anxious to have the honour of offering the conqueror a knee. "What a licking I shall get when it's over," young Osborne thought, picking up his man. "You'd best give in," he said to Dobbin; "it's only a thrashing, Figs, and you know I'm used to it." But Figs, all whose limbs were in a quiver, and whose nostrils were breathing rage, put his little bottle-holder aside, and went in for a fourth time. As he did not in the least know how to parry the blows that were aimed at himself, and Cuff had begun the attack on the three preceding occasions, without ever allowing his enemy to strike, Figs now determined that he would commence the engagement by a charge on his own part; and accordingly, being a left-handed man, brought that arm into action, and hit out a couple of times with all his might-- once at Mr. Cuff's left eye, and once on his beautiful Roman nose. Cuff went down this time, to the astonishment of the assembly. "Well hit, by Jove," says little Osborne, with the air of a connoisseur, clapping his man on the back. "Give it him with the left, Figs my boy." Figs's left made terrific play during all the rest of the combat. Cuff went down every time. At the sixth round, there were almost as many fellows shouting out, "Go it, Figs," as there were youths exclaiming, "Go it, Cuff." At the twelfth round the latter champion was all abroad, as the saying is, and had lost all presence of mind and power of attack or defence. Figs, on the contrary, was as calm as a quaker. His face being quite pale, his eyes shining open, and a great cut on his underlip bleeding profusely, gave this young fellow a fierce and ghastly air, which perhaps struck terror into many spectators. Nevertheless, his intrepid adversary prepared to close for the thirteenth time. If I had the pen of a Napier, or a Bell's Life, I should like to describe this combat properly. It was the last charge of the Guard-- (that is, it would have been, only Waterloo had not yet taken place)--it was Ney's column breasting the hill of La Haye Sainte, bristling with ten thousand bayonets, and crowned with twenty eagles--it was the shout of the beef-eating British, as leaping down the hill they rushed to hug the enemy in the savage arms of battle-- in other words, Cuff coming up full of pluck, but quite reeling and groggy, the Fig-merchant put in his left as usual on his adversary's nose, and sent him down for the last time. "I think that will do for him," Figs said, as his opponent dropped as neatly on the green as I have seen Jack Spot's ball plump into the pocket at billiards; and the fact is, when time was called, Mr. Reginald Cuff was not able, or did not choose, to stand up again. And now all the boys set up such a shout for Figs as would have made you think he had been their darling champion through the whole battle; and as absolutely brought Dr. Swishtail out of his study, curious to know the cause of the uproar. He threatened to flog Figs violently, of course; but Cuff, who had come to himself by this time, and was washing his wounds, stood up and said, "It's my fault, sir--not Figs'--not Dobbin's. I was bullying a little boy; and he served me right." By which magnanimous speech he not only saved his conqueror a whipping, but got back all his ascendancy over the boys which his defeat had nearly cost him. Young Osborne wrote home to his parents an account of the transaction. Sugarcane House, Richmond, March, 18-- DEAR MAMA,--I hope you are quite well. I should be much obliged to you to send me a cake and five shillings. There has been a fight here between Cuff & Dobbin. Cuff, you know, was the Cock of the School. They fought thirteen rounds, and Dobbin Licked. So Cuff is now Only Second Cock. The fight was about me. Cuff was licking me for breaking a bottle of milk, and Figs wouldn't stand it. We call him Figs because his father is a Grocer--Figs & Rudge, Thames St., City--I think as he fought for me you ought to buy your Tea & Sugar at his father's. Cuff goes home every Saturday, but can't this, because he has 2 Black Eyes. He has a white Pony to come and fetch him, and a groom in livery on a bay mare. I wish my Papa would let me have a Pony, and I am Your dutiful Son, GEORGE SEDLEY OSBORNE P.S.--Give my love to little Emmy. I am cutting her out a Coach in cardboard. Please not a seed-cake, but a plum-cake. In consequence of Dobbin's victory, his character rose prodigiously in the estimation of all his schoolfellows, and the name of Figs, which had been a byword of reproach, became as respectable and popular a nickname as any other in use in the school. "After all, it's not his fault that his father's a grocer," George Osborne said, who, though a little chap, had a very high popularity among the Swishtail youth; and his opinion was received with great applause. It was voted low to sneer at Dobbin about this accident of birth. "Old Figs" grew to be a name of kindness and endearment; and the sneak of an usher jeered at him no longer. And Dobbin's spirit rose with his altered circumstances. He made wonderful advances in scholastic learning. The superb Cuff himself, at whose condescension Dobbin could only blush and wonder, helped him on with his Latin verses; "coached" him in play-hours: carried him triumphantly out of the little-boy class into the middle-sized form; and even there got a fair place for him. It was discovered, that although dull at classical learning, at mathematics he was uncommonly quick. To the contentment of all he passed third in algebra, and got a French prize-book at the public Midsummer examination. You should have seen his mother's face when Telemaque (that delicious romance) was presented to him by the Doctor in the face of the whole school and the parents and company, with an inscription to Gulielmo Dobbin. All the boys clapped hands in token of applause and sympathy. His blushes, his stumbles, his awkwardness, and the number of feet which he crushed as he went back to his place, who shall describe or calculate? Old Dobbin, his father, who now respected him for the first time, gave him two guineas publicly; most of which he spent in a general tuck-out for the school: and he came back in a tail-coat after the holidays. Dobbin was much too modest a young fellow to suppose that this happy change in all his circumstances arose from his own generous and manly disposition: he chose, from some perverseness, to attribute his good fortune to the sole agency and benevolence of little George Osborne, to whom henceforth he vowed such a love and affection as is only felt by children--such an affection, as we read in the charming fairy-book, uncouth Orson had for splendid young Valentine his conqueror. He flung himself down at little Osborne's feet, and loved him. Even before they were acquainted, he had admired Osborne in secret. Now he was his valet, his dog, his man Friday. He believed Osborne to be the possessor of every perfection, to be the handsomest, the bravest, the most active, the cleverest, the most generous of created boys. He shared his money with him: bought him uncountable presents of knives, pencil-cases, gold seals, toffee, Little Warblers, and romantic books, with large coloured pictures of knights and robbers, in many of which latter you might read inscriptions to George Sedley Osborne, Esquire, from his attached friend William Dobbin--the which tokens of homage George received very graciously, as became his superior merit. So that Lieutenant Osborne, when coming to Russell Square on the day of the Vauxhall party, said to the ladies, "Mrs. Sedley, Ma'am, I hope you have room; I've asked Dobbin of ours to come and dine here, and go with us to Vauxhall. He's almost as modest as Jos." "Modesty! pooh," said the stout gentleman, casting a vainqueur look at Miss Sharp. "He is--but you are incomparably more graceful, Sedley," Osborne added, laughing. "I met him at the Bedford, when I went to look for you; and I told him that Miss Amelia was come home, and that we were all bent on going out for a night's pleasuring; and that Mrs. Sedley had forgiven his breaking the punch-bowl at the child's party. Don't you remember the catastrophe, Ma'am, seven years ago?" "Over Mrs. Flamingo's crimson silk gown," said good-natured Mrs. Sedley. "What a gawky it was! And his sisters are not much more graceful. Lady Dobbin was at Highbury last night with three of them. Such figures! my dears." "The Alderman's very rich, isn't he?" Osborne said archly. "Don't you think one of the daughters would be a good spec for me, Ma'am?" "You foolish creature! Who would take you, I should like to know, with your yellow face?" "Mine a yellow face? Stop till you see Dobbin. Why, he had the yellow fever three times; twice at Nassau, and once at St. Kitts." "Well, well; yours is quite yellow enough for us. Isn't it, Emmy?" Mrs. Sedley said: at which speech Miss Amelia only made a smile and a blush; and looking at Mr. George Osborne's pale interesting countenance, and those beautiful black, curling, shining whiskers, which the young gentleman himself regarded with no ordinary complacency, she thought in her little heart that in His Majesty's army, or in the wide world, there never was such a face or such a hero. "I don't care about Captain Dobbin's complexion," she said, "or about his awkwardness. I shall always like him, I know," her little reason being, that he was the friend and champion of George. "There's not a finer fellow in the service," Osborne said, "nor a better officer, though he is not an Adonis, certainly." And he looked towards the glass himself with much naivete; and in so doing, caught Miss Sharp's eye fixed keenly upon him, at which he blushed a little, and Rebecca thought in her heart, "Ah, mon beau Monsieur! I think I have YOUR gauge"--the little artful minx! That evening, when Amelia came tripping into the drawing-room in a white muslin frock, prepared for conquest at Vauxhall, singing like a lark, and as fresh as a rose--a very tall ungainly gentleman, with large hands and feet, and large ears, set off by a closely cropped head of black hair, and in the hideous military frogged coat and cocked hat of those times, advanced to meet her, and made her one of the clumsiest bows that was ever performed by a mortal. This was no other than Captain William Dobbin, of His Majesty's Regiment of Foot, returned from yellow fever, in the West Indies, to which the fortune of the service had ordered his regiment, whilst so many of his gallant comrades were reaping glory in the Peninsula. He had arrived with a knock so very timid and quiet that it was inaudible to the ladies upstairs: otherwise, you may be sure Miss Amelia would never have been so bold as to come singing into the room. As it was, the sweet fresh little voice went right into the Captain's heart, and nestled there. When she held out her hand for him to shake, before he enveloped it in his own, he paused, and thought--"Well, is it possible--are you the little maid I remember in the pink frock, such a short time ago--the night I upset the punch-bowl, just after I was gazetted? Are you the little girl that George Osborne said should marry him? What a blooming young creature you seem, and what a prize the rogue has got!" All this he thought, before he took Amelia's hand into his own, and as he let his cocked hat fall. His history since he left school, until the very moment when we have the pleasure of meeting him again, although not fully narrated, has yet, I think, been indicated sufficiently for an ingenious reader by the conversation in the last page. Dobbin, the despised grocer, was Alderman Dobbin--Alderman Dobbin was Colonel of the City Light Horse, then burning with military ardour to resist the French Invasion. Colonel Dobbin's corps, in which old Mr. Osborne himself was but an indifferent corporal, had been reviewed by the Sovereign and the Duke of York; and the colonel and alderman had been knighted. His son had entered the army: and young Osborne followed presently in the same regiment. They had served in the West Indies and in Canada. Their regiment had just come home, and the attachment of Dobbin to George Osborne was as warm and generous now as it had been when the two were schoolboys. So these worthy people sat down to dinner presently. They talked about war and glory, and Boney and Lord Wellington, and the last Gazette. In those famous days every gazette had a victory in it, and the two gallant young men longed to see their own names in the glorious list, and cursed their unlucky fate to belong to a regiment which had been away from the chances of honour. Miss Sharp kindled with this exciting talk, but Miss Sedley trembled and grew quite faint as she heard it. Mr. Jos told several of his tiger-hunting stories, finished the one about Miss Cutler and Lance the surgeon; helped Rebecca to everything on the table, and himself gobbled and drank a great deal. He sprang to open the door for the ladies, when they retired, with the most killing grace--and coming back to the table, filled himself bumper after bumper of claret, which he swallowed with nervous rapidity. "He's priming himself," Osborne whispered to Dobbin, and at length the hour and the carriage arrived for Vauxhall. 第五章　我们的都宾     凡是在斯威希泰尔博士那有名的学校里念过书的学生,决不能忘记克甫和都宾两人打架的经过和后来意想不到的结局.学校里的人提起都宾,都叫他"嗳唷,都宾","嗨嗨,都宾",其余还有许多诨名儿,无非是小孩子们表示看不起他的意思.他是全校最迟钝.最没口齿,而且看上去最呆笨的一个.他的父亲在市中心开了个杂货铺.据说斯威希泰尔博士在"互惠原则"之下收他入学.换句话说,他爸爸不付现钱,却把货物来抵学膳费.都宾的成绩很差,几乎是全校学生的压尾.他穿的灯芯绒裤子和短外衣都太紧,一身大骨头在绷破的线缝里撑出来.在学校里,他就代表多少磅的茶叶.蜡烛.蓝花肥皂.梅子等等......其中一小部分的梅子是用来做梅子布丁的.有一天,一个学生偷着进城去买脆饼和嫩猪肉香肠,看见校门口停着一辆送货车,恰巧是伦敦泰晤士街都宾和瑞奇合开的杂货食油店派来的,送货的正在把他家的货色从车子里搬出来.那天可真够都宾受的.     从此之后都宾就没有太平日子了.同学们取笑他,说的笑话又尖酸又刻毒.一个口角俏皮的说:"哈,都宾,报上登了好消息啦!砂糖涨价了,孩子."另一个计算着说,"如果洋油蜡烛卖七便士半一打,都宾一共值多少钱哪?"于是旁边的小混蛋们便哄然大笑,连助教也笑.他们一致认为做零售商是最下流低贱的职业,应该给有身分的上等人瞧不起.这种见解当然不错.     都宾背着人对那个使他受这些苦恼的小孩儿说道:"奥斯本,你的爸爸其实也不过是个做买卖的."那孩子骄傲地答道:"我的爸爸是上等人,有自备马车."威廉.都宾听了这话,躲在运动场犄角上的一间屋子里闷闷的伤了半天心,因为那天恰巧有半日假期.咱们小的时候谁没有受过这样的气恼?凡是心地忠厚的孩子,受了欺负格外觉得不平,受了轻慢格外觉得畏缩,有人委屈他,他比别的孩子更伤心,有人抚慰他,他也会感激得脸上放光.这么温顺的好孩子,往往给你们做老师的侮辱.虐待和冷淡.他们错在什么地方呢?不过是不会做算术,或是不会念拉丁文,其实那拉丁文本身就是不通的.     威廉.都宾因为不会拉丁文,读不好伊顿中学(英国著名的贵族化公立学校.)出版的拉丁文文法这本了不起的书,所以在斯威希泰尔学校里老是得末一名.他还在低班,和那些粉红脸儿.穿罩袍的小不点儿在一起上课,可怜还是比不上他们.他拿着卷了书角的初级读本,穿着紧得不合身的灯芯绒裤子,委委顿顿,痴痴呆呆的跟一群小人儿排在一行,简直像个大怪物.学校里上上下下,没一个不作弄他.他们把他那已经太小的裤腿缝起来,把他床上的被褥带子铰断,把水桶跟长凳推倒在地上,好叫他把脚胫撞得生痛.而他呢,也每回都撞上去.他时常收到一个个小包,拆开一看,却是自己家里出卖的肥皂和蜡烛.连一点儿大的小孩儿们也都打趣过都宾.他虽然委屈,可是忍气吞声,从来不抱怨.     克甫的地位刚刚相反.他是斯威希泰尔学校里的时髦公子,大家捧他为大王.他偷偷的带酒到学校里来喝.他跟城里的孩子打架.到星期六,家里会送小马来接他回家.他房间里还有大靴子,专为假期里穿了打猎用的.他有一只金表,又像校长一样,会吸鼻烟.他看过歌剧;演戏的名角儿谁高谁下他都知道.照他看来,基恩先生比坎白尔先生(基恩(Ｋｅａｎ)和坎白尔(Ｋｅｍｂｌｅ)两家父子兄弟都是名演员.这里指的是小坎白尔(Ｊｏｈｎ　Ｐｈｉｌｉｐ　Ｋｅｍｂｌｅ,１７５７—１８２３)和老基恩(Ｅｄｍｕｎｄ　Ｋｅａｎ,１７８７—１８３３),两人同时争名.)还高明.他能够在一小时以内一口气读完四十首拉丁诗.他还会写法文诗.他有什么不懂,什么不能的呢?据说连校长都怕他.     克甫是学校里的无敌大王.他神气活现的统治一批顺民,不时的欺负他们.同学们有的替他擦鞋,有的替他烤面包,有的做小打杂,整整一夏天,每天下午他打球的时候给他捡球.他最瞧不起"无花果儿"(无花果儿(ｆｉｇｓ)这字有侮慢的意思.),虽然一见面就讥笑谩骂,可是从来不屑和他对面谈话.     有一天这两位小爷在私底下闹起意见来了.无花果儿一个人在课堂里辛辛苦苦的写家信,克甫走来,说是有事使唤他出去走一趟.好像是叫他去买甜饼.     都宾答道:"我不行,我得先把这封信写完."他的信里面好多别字,涂改的地方也不少.可怜写信的人在上面费了不少的心思.力气和眼泪,因为这是写给妈妈的信.他的妈虽然不过是个杂货铺的老板娘,住在泰晤士街店房的后间,可是倒真疼儿子.     克甫先生一听这话,一把抢了信纸问着他说:"你不行吗?你不行吗?我倒要请问你,干吗不行?明天再写信给无花果儿妈妈不是一样的吗?"     都宾急了,站起来说:"说话好听点儿."     学校里的大公鸡高声说:"那你到底去不去?"     都宾刁嘴咬舌的说:"把信放下来.君子不看人家私信."     克甫道:"好吧,现在你去不去?"     都宾大声呼喝道:"我不去,你要动手,我先把你揍个稀烂."他跳过去抓起一个铅做的墨水壶,恶狠狠一脸凶相.克甫先生顿了一顿,放下卷起的袖子,把手插在口袋里嗤笑着走掉了.从此以后他没有敢再惹杂货铺的小掌柜,不过说句公平话,他背后说起都宾,口气里总表示瞧不起.     这件事发生以后不久,一天下午,太阳很好,克甫先生又碰上了威廉.都宾.这可怜虫正在运动场上一棵树下躺着,一个字一个字的看着自己心爱的《天方夜谈》.别的孩子各做各的游戏,他远远的离开大家,心里几乎有些快活.如果咱们对孩子放松一些,做老师的不欺压学生,做父母的不坚持着引导儿女的思想,控制儿女的情感,我认为决没有害处.人的思想情感最难捉摸.譬如说,你我之间何尝互相了解呢?自己的孩子.父亲.街坊邻舍,心里在思量什么,咱们何尝知道呢?呆钝腐朽的成年人偏爱管教小辈,其实小孩子的思想比他们的高超神圣得多着呢.所以我认为做父母和做老师的尽可放任一些,决计没有妨碍,充其量不过是孩子们眼前少读点儿书.     威廉.都宾居然忘了现实,飘然出世,一忽儿跟着星伯达水手在金刚钻山谷里(见《天方夜谈》星伯达水手第二次航海的故事.),一忽儿跟着阿赫曼德王子和贝莱朋诺仙女在他们第一次会面的山洞里(咱们也未尝不想到那美丽的山洞里去走一遭);忽然听得小孩儿尖声哭叫,打断了他有趣的白日梦.他抬起头来,看见克甫正在他前面痛打一个小学生.     被打的正是看见了送货车揭发都宾隐事的小子.可是都宾向来不念旧恶,对于年纪小的孩子更加不计较.只见克甫挥着一根黄色的球棍对那孩子叱责道:"你竟敢把我的瓶子打破,赫!"     这小学生的使命是爬过运动场的围墙,跑到四分之一哩路以外去赊购一品脱果露甜酒,然后不顾校长布置在外面的密探,再爬回到运动场里来.有一处地方,墙顶上的碎玻璃已经去掉,而且墙上还做了好几个凹进去的窝儿,进出可以方便些.不料他在爬墙的时候,脚一滑,不小心把瓶子摔破,甜酒泼掉了,自己的裤子也弄脏了.他心惊胆战的回到主人面前,虽然没有受伤,心里却慌得可怜.     克甫说:"你胆敢摔破瓶子!你这粗手笨脚的小贼.准是你偷看把甜酒喝了,假装摔破了瓶子.把手伸出来!"     球棍重重的打在孩子手上,扑的一声响.跟着是哼哼唧唧的哭声.都宾抬起头来.贝莱朋诺仙女和阿赫曼德王子立刻躲到山洞深处.星伯达水手也给大鹏鸟背着飞出了金刚钻山谷,直上云霄.老实的都宾眼前仍旧是现实生活.他看见大孩子在无缘无故的欺负小孩子.     克甫喝道:"把那只手也伸出来."那小学生痛得面目改形.都宾看了止不住索索地抖,穿在又旧又小的衣服里面的整个身子紧张起来.     "吃我这一下,你这小鬼!"克甫先生一面嚷嚷,又把球棍打孩子的手心.......太太们别怕,在学校里,个个孩子都经过这一套,你们自己的孩子将来准会挨打,也准会去打别人.球棍儿打下去,都宾就跳起来了.     我不知道他的动机是什么.在公立学校里,大学生虐待小学生跟俄国人用靴子抽打罪犯一般,向来是合法的.你从这方面看,抗拒受罚简直是丢脸的事.也许都宾是傻好人,看了暴虐的行为忍不住要打抱不平.也许他早已要想报复;克甫这神气活现的小霸王,专爱欺负弱小,一切的光荣归他一身,一切的礼仪为他而设,大家给他搴旗,打鼓,举起手对他行礼,看了叫人忍不住要和他较量一番,比比高下.且不管都宾的动机是什么,只见他一跃而起,尖声叫道:"住手!你再欺负小孩儿,我就......"     克甫真没有料到他会多管闲事,说道:"你就怎么样?......手伸出来,小畜生!"     都宾回答他上半截的问题说:"我就把你一顿痛打,叫你尝尝一辈子没尝过的滋味."小奥斯本流着泪,喘着气,看见有人出其不意的替他打抱不平,诧异得不敢相信,只抬头望着他.克甫的诧异也不在奥斯本之下.你如果能够体味先王乔治第三听得北美洲殖民地叛变时候的心情,或是狂妄的歌利亚(指《旧约.撒母耳记》上卷第十七章所载大卫王打败巨人歌利亚的故事.)看见矮小的大卫走上前来要求决斗时的感觉,才能领略雷杰耐尔.克甫受到都宾的挑战,心里是怎样一回事.     克甫按照打架前的惯例,说道:"上完课来."他顿了一顿,向对手看了一眼,仿佛说:"在这一段时间以内,你快把遗嘱写好,把后事也交代清楚."     都宾答道:"随你的便.奥斯本,你做我的助威人吧."     小奥斯本答道:"也好,你爱怎么就怎么吧."你知道的,他爸爸有自备马车,倒叫这种人替他打抱不平,不免觉得丢面子.     打架开始的时候,他嘴里虽然叫着"打呀,无花果儿!"心里老大不好意思.这次出名的打架,在起初的两三个回合中,在场的学生除他之外没一个肯这样帮腔.克甫微微的冷笑着,样子轻松愉快,倒仿佛在跳舞会里作耍呢.他对于拳法很有研究,拳头连连落在倒楣的对手身上,接连三次把他打倒在地.都宾跌倒一次,大家就欢呼一声.人人都急于要向征服者表示忠诚,能够向他屈膝,在他们也是一种光荣.     小奥斯本一面把他的打手扶起来,一面想道:"他们打完架以后,我可要好好的挨一顿揍了."他对都宾道:"无花果儿,我看你还是算了吧.他不过打我几下,我也受惯了."无花果儿那时四肢发抖,鼻孔出烟,把助威的推在一边,再打第四个回合.　　头上三个回合,都是克甫开的拳.他不容对方有还手的机会,而都宾又不会躲闪,因此这一回都宾决计自己先动手.他生来左手着力,便挥动左臂,用尽全身力气打了克甫先生两拳,一拳打在他左眼上,一拳打在他罗马式的鼻子上.     这一回,倒下去的是克甫,四周围看热闹的人都吃了一惊.小奥斯本做出内行的样子,拍拍都宾的背说:"喝,打得好,再用左手揍他吧,无花果儿,我的孩子!"     这场大战的下半截,无花果儿惊人的运用左手,克甫每一回都被打倒.到第六合上,叫"打呀,无花果儿!"的人跟叫"打呀,克甫!"的人数目竟也差不多了.打到第十二合,克甫垮了台.他精神不聚,既不能攻,又不能守,而无花果儿倒像清教徒一般镇静.他脸色苍白,睁着发光的两眼,下唇破了一个大口子,不停的流着血,样子又凶狠又怕人,旁边看热闹的人给他吓得心惊胆战的大概不少,可是他勇敢的对手倒还准备再打第十三合.     如果我有那比哀的笔(那比哀(Ｓｉｒ　Ｗｉｌｌｉａｍ　Ｎａｐｉｅｒ,１７８５—１８６０),英国的大将兼历史家,以善描写战争出名.),或者文章写得像蓓尔公司生活画报(蓓尔公司伦敦生活画报(Ｂｅｌｌ,ｓ　Ｌｉｆｅ　ｉｎ　Ｌｏｎｄｏｎ)专报导拳击赛马等事.)上的一样好,那么我一定要把这场决斗好好的描写一番.这简直跟禁卫军最后的袭击相仿佛(不过那时滑铁卢大战还没有发生,我只能说这次打架跟后来禁卫军最后的袭击相仿佛).耐将军(耐将军(Ｍｉｃｌｉａｌ　Ｎｅｙ,１７６９—１８１５),法国总司令.)的队伍向圣.拉埃山进攻,十万大军扛着密密麻麻的刺刀,二十根旗杆上面插着老鹰的标帜.山上吃惯牛肉的粗壮英国大兵发喊冲锋,跳下山和敌人拼死搏斗.这次打架,两方面的精神也可以和他们相比.换句话说,克甫虽然趔着脚,一跌一撞的,可是仍旧满腔勇气,又赶上前来,给那卖无花果的左手一拳打在鼻子上,跌下去再也爬不起来.     无花果儿的对手啪的倒在草坪上,那干脆的劲儿就像有一回我看见贾克.斯巴脱把弹子一下子打进窟窿一样.无花果儿看了说:"我想这下子他爬不起了."打手倒地所允许的最长的时间已经到了,却不见雷杰耐尔.克甫先生爬起身来,不知道他是不能起来呢,还是不肯起来.     所有的学生都为无花果儿欢呼,叫得一片响,听的人准以为无花果儿一起头就是他们一致拥护的好汉.后来他们叫得斯威希泰尔博士也听见了,从书房里出来查究外面为什么大呼小叫.他当然威吓着说要把无花果儿重重打一顿,幸而那时克甫已经醒过来了,正在洗伤.他站起来说:"先生,是我不好.无花果儿......都宾没有错.我在欺负小学生,他打得好."他做人这么大气,不但免了他的征服者一顿打,而且从新树立了自己的威信.他这次大败,险些儿失去了民心.     小奥斯本写家信的时候,就报告这件事:     三月十八日立却蒙休格开恩大厦     亲爱的妈妈:     我希望你身体很好.请你给我送一个蛋糕来.我还要五个先令.克甫和都宾打过架了.你知道的,克甫是学校里的大王.他们打了十三合,都宾打的胜仗.所以克甫现在只算二大王.他们打架都是为了我.克甫因为我摔破一瓶牛奶,就打我,无花果儿不让他打.他的爸爸是开杂货店的,所以我们叫他无花果儿.那铺子在市中心泰晤士街,是无花果儿和瑞奇合营的商店.我想他既然为我跟人打架,你以后应该到他爸爸铺子里去买糖跟茶叶才对.克甫本来每星期六回家,可是这次不行了,因为他两个眼睛都打青了.他有一匹小白马来接他回家,还有一个穿号衣的马夫来陪他.马夫骑的是栗色的母马.我希望爸爸也给我一匹小马.     你的儿子　乔治.赛特笠.奥斯本     代我问候小爱米.我正在用硬纸板替她做一辆马车.我不要香草子蛋糕,我要梅子蛋糕.     自从都宾打了胜仗之后,同学们异乎寻常的尊敬他的人格.无花果儿这名字本来含有侮辱的意思,后来却成了学校里最受欢迎和最体面的诨名儿之一.乔治.奥斯本说:"他爸爸开杂货铺究竟不是他的错."乔治年纪虽然小,在斯威希泰尔学校里的小学生队里倒很有人缘,所以他说的这话很受赞赏.大家公认都宾出身下贱是不得已的事,因此而看轻他本人是很卑鄙的.老无花果儿这名字到后来只表示大家喜欢他,对他关心,连那鬼鬼祟祟的助教也没敢再笑他.     环境好转之后,都宾的兴致也高了,功课上有了惊人的进步.了不起的克甫亲自帮他的忙.他这么屈尊降格,都宾觉得十分希罕,脸都红了.克甫教他读拉丁诗,在休息的时候抽空替他补课,把他从低班拉上中班,真叫人得意.不但如此,他还帮他把中班的功课做得很像样.大家发现都宾虽然读不好古典文学,做起算术来倒是出人头地的快.夏天里公开考试,他代数考了第三名,得到一本法文书算是奖品,个个人都为他高兴.校长当着全校师生和来校参加典礼的家长和来宾把《戴笠马克》这本有趣的传奇(法国作家费内龙(Ｆｅｎｅｌｏｎ)的作品.)赠给都宾,书上还写了他的名字古利爱尔莫.都宾((Ｇｕｌｉｅｌｍｏ就是拉丁文的Ｗｉｌｌｉａｍ,英国学校的名单常将学生的名字拉丁化.).可惜你没看见他妈妈脸上的得意.所有的学生一致鼓掌表示对都宾赞赏和拥戴.他拿了奖品回到原座,一路上红着脸不断的绊跟头,他踩痛了多少人的脚,谁也数不清,他的傻样儿谁也形容不出.他的爸爸都宾老头儿第一回对于自己的儿子瞧得起,当众赏给他两个基尼.这些钱他大半化在同学身上,请他们大吃一顿.暑假以后回学校的时候,他穿了后面开叉的外套,像个大人了.     都宾天生是个谦虚的小后生,没想到转运的原故全是他自己器量大,做人豪爽.他偏偏要把一切功劳都推给乔治.奥斯本,认为好运都是他给带来的.他对于乔治深切的爱护;这么真诚的友谊,只有在孩子的心里和美丽的神话中间才找得着.譬如粗野的奥生给凡仑丁收服以后,对于这神采奕奕的年轻勇士就生出了这样的感情(法国的神话,在１５５０年前后传到英国.奥生和凡仑丁原是兄弟.奥生自小给熊衔去,成了野人,后来给凡仑丁收服.).都宾拜倒在小奥斯本面前,死心塌地爱他.他没有认识奥斯本之前,已经暗暗的佩服他.如今更成了他的听差,他的狗,他的忠仆星期五(《鲁滨逊飘流记》里鲁滨逊的仆人.).他相信奥斯本尽善尽美,是一切凡人里头最漂亮.最勇敢.最活泼.最聪明.最大器的.他把自己的钱分给他用,买了不知多少礼物送给他,像小刀.铅笔匣.金印.太妃糖.模仿鸟叫的小笛子,还有大幅彩色插图的故事书,里面画着强盗和武士.这些书里都有题赠,写明送给乔治.赛特笠.奥斯本先生,他的好朋友威廉.都宾敬赠等等字样.乔治原是高人一等的,都宾既然对他表示忠诚,向他纳贡,他也就雍容大度的收下来.     到游乐场去的那一天,奥斯本中尉到了勒塞尔广场,就对太太小姐们说:"赛特笠太太,我希望您这儿有空位子.我请了我们的都宾来吃晚饭,然后一块儿上游乐场.他跟乔斯差不多一样怕羞."     胖子得意洋洋的对利蓓加小姐看了一眼说道:"怕羞!得了吧!"     奥斯本笑道:"他真的怕羞.当然你风度翩翩,跟他不能比,赛特笠.我去找你的时候在贝德福碰见他,就告诉他说爱米丽亚小姐已经回家,咱们大家今儿晚上都准备出去乐一宵.还有,我说他小时候在这儿作客,打破五味酒碗的事,赛特笠太太也不计较了.太太,这件倒楣的事儿已经过去七年了呢,您还记得吗?"     好性子的赛特笠太太答道:"五味酒全洒在弗拉明哥太太的红绸袍子上.他这人真是拙手笨脚.他的妹妹们也不见得文雅多少.都宾爵士夫人昨儿晚上带了三个女儿也在海贝莱.唉,她们的腰身好难看哪!"     奥斯本顽皮地说道:"副市长有钱得很呢,是不是?我娶了他的女儿倒挺上算的,你说怎么样,太太?"     "你这傻东西!瞧你的黄脸皮,谁肯要你?"     "我的脸皮黄吗?您先看看都宾的脸再说,他生了三回黄热病,在那索生过两回,在圣.葛脱生过一回."     赛特笠太太说:"得了.我们瞧着你的脸已经够黄的了.爱米,你说对不对?"爱米丽亚小姐红了脸一笑.她看着乔治.奥斯本先生苍白动人的脸儿,和他本人最得意的.发亮卷曲的黑胡子,心里觉得在全国的军队里,在全世界上,也找不出这么一个脸庞儿,这么一个英雄好汉.她说:"我倒不在乎都宾上尉的脸色和他笨手笨脚的样子.反正我总会喜欢他的."她的理由很简单.因为都宾是乔治的朋友,处处护着他.     奥斯本说道:"军队里谁也比不上他的为人.他做军官的本事也比人强.当然��,他不是阿多尼斯(希腊神话里的美少年,爱情女神维纳斯的情人.)."他很天真的在镜子里对自己端详着,恰巧碰上夏泼小姐尖利的眼光盯住他看,不禁脸红了一下.利蓓加暗暗想道:"哈,我的漂亮少年,你是块什么材料可给我捉摸出来了."这小姑娘真是个诡计多端的狐媚子.     那天傍晚,爱米丽亚打扮好了准备上游乐场去颠倒众生.她穿了白纱长袍,像一朵娇艳的玫瑰花,百灵鸟似的唱着歌,跳跳跃跃的走到客厅里,就见一个笨头笨脑的高个子迎着她鞠了一躬.这人粗手大脚大耳朵,一头剪得很短的黑头发,穿一身其丑无比的军服,上面钉着长方大扣子,头上戴一顶当时流行的硬边三角帽.他鞠躬的姿势,难看得谁也比不上.     这就是步兵第......联队的威廉.都宾上尉.当时他好多勇敢的伙伴都在半岛上立功(英国联合了西班牙.葡萄牙和法国开战.战场就在伊比利亚半岛,西.葡两国的本土.),而他的联队偏偏被派到西印度群岛去服务.后来他生黄热病,便回到家里来.     他来的时候,小心翼翼的敲门,声音很轻,楼上的太太小姐都没有听见,要不然爱米丽亚怎么会不怕羞,一路唱着进去呢?她的甜美的声音直闯进上尉的心里,就在那儿蜷伏下了.爱米丽亚向上尉伸出手来,他跟她拉手之前,先顿了一顿,心里想道:"怎么的?不久以前我看见的那个穿粉红衣服的小姑娘难道就是你吗?那时候我刚刚正式发表入队,晚上我还倒翻了你们的五味酒碗.乔治.奥斯本将来要娶的原来就是你.好个花朵儿似的女孩子!乔治这家伙倒有福气."他还没有跟她拉手,硬边帽子已经掉在地上,那时候他心里就这么盘算着.     自从都宾出了学校到咱们重新跟他碰头,这一段历史,我还没有细细儿说给大家听,可是聪明的读者看了前两页上面的对话,一定猜得出来.给人瞧不起的杂货铺老板成了副市长.他又是伦敦城市轻骑兵的上校.当年法国兵向英国进犯,他一腔热血,准备全力抵抗.奥斯本的爸爸在他联队里只是个毫不出色的警卫而已.他统带的士兵曾经受过英王和约克公爵检阅,他自己不但当了上校,做了副市长,还有爵士的封号.他的儿子加入了军队,小奥斯本跟他在同一个联队.他们两个相继在西印度群岛和加拿大服务.眼前军队内调,才回到家里来.都宾仍旧热心爱护奥斯本,对他非常慷慨,和他们同学的时候一样.     过了一会儿,这群了不起的人坐下来吃晚饭.他们谈到打仗立功,拿破仑小子和威灵顿公爵(威灵顿(Ｗｅｌｌｉｎｇｔｏｎ,１７６９—１８５２),英国大将,滑铁卢之战,拿破仑就败在他手里.),还谈到最近政府公报里的消息.当年正是英国历史上光辉的时代,每一期战报都登载着胜利的消息.两个年轻的勇士巴不得自己的名字也在光荣名单里出现,怨叹时运不济,偏偏所属的联队调在外面,没有机会立功.夏泼小姐听了这样叫人振奋的话,不由得眉飞色舞,赛特笠小姐却怕得直发抖.乔斯先生讲了几个猎虎的故事,又把格脱勒小姐和兰斯医生的一段姻缘也说完了.他把桌子上每一盘菜都送到利蓓加面前请她尝,自己也不停的大吃大喝.     饭后小姐们走出饭间的时候,他跳起来替她们开门,风度的潇洒真有勾魂摄魄的力量.然后他回到饭桌上,慌慌张张的一连喝了几大杯红酒.     奥斯本轻轻对都宾说道:"他在壮自己的胆气呢."出发的钟点到了,马车等在门口送他们上游乐场.

CHAPTER VI Vauxhall I know that the tune I am piping is a very mild one (although there are some terrific chapters coming presently), and must beg the good- natured reader to remember that we are only discoursing at present about a stockbroker's family in Russell Square, who are taking walks, or luncheon, or dinner, or talking and making love as people do in common life, and without a single passionate and wonderful incident to mark the progress of their loves. The argument stands thus--Osborne, in love with Amelia, has asked an old friend to dinner and to Vauxhall--Jos Sedley is in love with Rebecca. Will he marry her? That is the great subject now in hand. We might have treated this subject in the genteel, or in the romantic, or in the facetious manner. Suppose we had laid the scene in Grosvenor Square, with the very same adventures--would not some people have listened? Suppose we had shown how Lord Joseph Sedley fell in love, and the Marquis of Osborne became attached to Lady Amelia, with the full consent of the Duke, her noble father: or instead of the supremely genteel, suppose we had resorted to the entirely low, and described what was going on in Mr. Sedley's kitchen--how black Sambo was in love with the cook (as indeed he was), and how he fought a battle with the coachman in her behalf; how the knife-boy was caught stealing a cold shoulder of mutton, and Miss Sedley's new femme de chambre refused to go to bed without a wax candle; such incidents might be made to provoke much delightful laughter, and be supposed to represent scenes of "life." Or if, on the contrary, we had taken a fancy for the terrible, and made the lover of the new femme de chambre a professional burglar, who bursts into the house with his band, slaughters black Sambo at the feet of his master, and carries off Amelia in her night-dress, not to be let loose again till the third volume, we should easily have constructed a tale of thrilling interest, through the fiery chapters of which the reader should hurry, panting. But my readers must hope for no such romance, only a homely story, and must be content with a chapter about Vauxhall, which is so short that it scarce deserves to be called a chapter at all. And yet it is a chapter, and a very important one too. Are not there little chapters in everybody's life, that seem to be nothing, and yet affect all the rest of the history? Let us then step into the coach with the Russell Square party, and be off to the Gardens. There is barely room between Jos and Miss Sharp, who are on the front seat. Mr. Osborne sitting bodkin opposite, between Captain Dobbin and Amelia. Every soul in the coach agreed that on that night Jos would propose to make Rebecca Sharp Mrs. Sedley. The parents at home had acquiesced in the arrangement, though, between ourselves, old Mr. Sedley had a feeling very much akin to contempt for his son. He said he was vain, selfish, lazy, and effeminate. He could not endure his airs as a man of fashion, and laughed heartily at his pompous braggadocio stories. "I shall leave the fellow half my property," he said; "and he will have, besides, plenty of his own; but as I am perfectly sure that if you, and I, and his sister were to die to-morrow, he would say 'Good Gad!' and eat his dinner just as well as usual, I am not going to make myself anxious about him. Let him marry whom he likes. It's no affair of mine." Amelia, on the other hand, as became a young woman of her prudence and temperament, was quite enthusiastic for the match. Once or twice Jos had been on the point of saying something very important to her, to which she was most willing to lend an ear, but the fat fellow could not be brought to unbosom himself of his great secret, and very much to his sister's disappointment he only rid himself of a large sigh and turned away. This mystery served to keep Amelia's gentle bosom in a perpetual flutter of excitement. If she did not speak with Rebecca on the tender subject, she compensated herself with long and intimate conversations with Mrs. Blenkinsop, the housekeeper, who dropped some hints to the lady's-maid, who may have cursorily mentioned the matter to the cook, who carried the news, I have no doubt, to all the tradesmen, so that Mr. Jos's marriage was now talked of by a very considerable number of persons in the Russell Square world. It was, of course, Mrs. Sedley's opinion that her son would demean himself by a marriage with an artist's daughter. "But, lor', Ma'am," ejaculated Mrs. Blenkinsop, "we was only grocers when we married Mr. S., who was a stock-broker's clerk, and we hadn't five hundred pounds among us, and we're rich enough now." And Amelia was entirely of this opinion, to which, gradually, the good-natured Mrs. Sedley was brought. Mr. Sedley was neutral. "Let Jos marry whom he likes," he said; "it's no affair of mine. This girl has no fortune; no more had Mrs. Sedley. She seems good-humoured and clever, and will keep him in order, perhaps. Better she, my dear, than a black Mrs. Sedley, and a dozen of mahogany grandchildren." So that everything seemed to smile upon Rebecca's fortunes. She took Jos's arm, as a matter of course, on going to dinner; she had sate by him on the box of his open carriage (a most tremendous "buck" he was, as he sat there, serene, in state, driving his greys), and though nobody said a word on the subject of the marriage, everybody seemed to understand it. All she wanted was the proposal, and ah! how Rebecca now felt the want of a mother!--a dear, tender mother, who would have managed the business in ten minutes, and, in the course of a little delicate confidential conversation, would have extracted the interesting avowal from the bashful lips of the young man! Such was the state of affairs as the carriage crossed Westminster bridge. The party was landed at the Royal Gardens in due time. As the majestic Jos stepped out of the creaking vehicle the crowd gave a cheer for the fat gentleman, who blushed and looked very big and mighty, as he walked away with Rebecca under his arm. George, of course, took charge of Amelia. She looked as happy as a rose-tree in sunshine. "I say, Dobbin," says George, "just look to the shawls and things, there's a good fellow." And so while he paired off with Miss Sedley, and Jos squeezed through the gate into the gardens with Rebecca at his side, honest Dobbin contented himself by giving an arm to the shawls, and by paying at the door for the whole party. He walked very modestly behind them. He was not willing to spoil sport. About Rebecca and Jos he did not care a fig. But he thought Amelia worthy even of the brilliant George Osborne, and as he saw that good-looking couple threading the walks to the girl's delight and wonder, he watched her artless happiness with a sort of fatherly pleasure. Perhaps he felt that he would have liked to have something on his own arm besides a shawl (the people laughed at seeing the gawky young officer carrying this female burthen); but William Dobbin was very little addicted to selfish calculation at all; and so long as his friend was enjoying himself, how should he be discontented? And the truth is, that of all the delights of the Gardens; of the hundred thousand extra lamps, which were always lighted; the fiddlers in cocked hats, who played ravishing melodies under the gilded cockle-shell in the midst of the gardens; the singers, both of comic and sentimental ballads, who charmed the ears there; the country dances, formed by bouncing cockneys and cockneyesses, and executed amidst jumping, thumping and laughter; the signal which announced that Madame Saqui was about to mount skyward on a slack-rope ascending to the stars; the hermit that always sat in the illuminated hermitage; the dark walks, so favourable to the interviews of young lovers; the pots of stout handed about by the people in the shabby old liveries; and the twinkling boxes, in which the happy feasters made-believe to eat slices of almost invisible ham--of all these things, and of the gentle Simpson, that kind smiling idiot, who, I daresay, presided even then over the place--Captain William Dobbin did not take the slightest notice. He carried about Amelia's white cashmere shawl, and having attended under the gilt cockle-shell, while Mrs. Salmon performed the Battle of Borodino (a savage cantata against the Corsican upstart, who had lately met with his Russian reverses)--Mr. Dobbin tried to hum it as he walked away, and found he was humming--the tune which Amelia Sedley sang on the stairs, as she came down to dinner. He burst out laughing at himself; for the truth is, he could sing no better than an owl. It is to be understood, as a matter of course, that our young people, being in parties of two and two, made the most solemn promises to keep together during the evening, and separated in ten minutes afterwards. Parties at Vauxhall always did separate, but 'twas only to meet again at supper-time, when they could talk of their mutual adventures in the interval. What were the adventures of Mr. Osborne and Miss Amelia? That is a secret. But be sure of this--they were perfectly happy, and correct in their behaviour; and as they had been in the habit of being together any time these fifteen years, their tete-a-tete offered no particular novelty. But when Miss Rebecca Sharp and her stout companion lost themselves in a solitary walk, in which there were not above five score more of couples similarly straying, they both felt that the situation was extremely tender and critical, and now or never was the moment Miss Sharp thought, to provoke that declaration which was trembling on the timid lips of Mr. Sedley. They had previously been to the panorama of Moscow, where a rude fellow, treading on Miss Sharp's foot, caused her to fall back with a little shriek into the arms of Mr. Sedley, and this little incident increased the tenderness and confidence of that gentleman to such a degree, that he told her several of his favourite Indian stories over again for, at least, the sixth time. "How I should like to see India!" said Rebecca. "SHOULD you?" said Joseph, with a most killing tenderness; and was no doubt about to follow up this artful interrogatory by a question still more tender (for he puffed and panted a great deal, and Rebecca's hand, which was placed near his heart, could count the feverish pulsations of that organ), when, oh, provoking! the bell rang for the fireworks, and, a great scuffling and running taking place, these interesting lovers were obliged to follow in the stream of people. Captain Dobbin had some thoughts of joining the party at supper: as, in truth, he found the Vauxhall amusements not particularly lively-- but he paraded twice before the box where the now united couples were met, and nobody took any notice of him. Covers were laid for four. The mated pairs were prattling away quite happily, and Dobbin knew he was as clean forgotten as if he had never existed in this world. "I should only be de trop," said the Captain, looking at them rather wistfully. "I'd best go and talk to the hermit,"--and so he strolled off out of the hum of men, and noise, and clatter of the banquet, into the dark walk, at the end of which lived that well- known pasteboard Solitary. It wasn't very good fun for Dobbin--and, indeed, to be alone at Vauxhall, I have found, from my own experience, to be one of the most dismal sports ever entered into by a bachelor. The two couples were perfectly happy then in their box: where the most delightful and intimate conversation took place. Jos was in his glory, ordering about the waiters with great majesty. He made the salad; and uncorked the Champagne; and carved the chickens; and ate and drank the greater part of the refreshments on the tables. Finally, he insisted upon having a bowl of rack punch; everybody had rack punch at Vauxhall. "Waiter, rack punch." That bowl of rack punch was the cause of all this history. And why not a bowl of rack punch as well as any other cause? Was not a bowl of prussic acid the cause of Fair Rosamond's retiring from the world? Was not a bowl of wine the cause of the demise of Alexander the Great, or, at least, does not Dr. Lempriere say so?--so did this bowl of rack punch influence the fates of all the principal characters in this "Novel without a Hero," which we are now relating. It influenced their life, although most of them did not taste a drop of it. The young ladies did not drink it; Osborne did not like it; and the consequence was that Jos, that fat gourmand, drank up the whole contents of the bowl; and the consequence of his drinking up the whole contents of the bowl was a liveliness which at first was astonishing, and then became almost painful; for he talked and laughed so loud as to bring scores of listeners round the box, much to the confusion of the innocent party within it; and, volunteering to sing a song (which he did in that maudlin high key peculiar to gentlemen in an inebriated state), he almost drew away the audience who were gathered round the musicians in the gilt scollop-shell, and received from his hearers a great deal of applause. "Brayvo, Fat un!" said one; "Angcore, Daniel Lambert!" said another; "What a figure for the tight-rope!" exclaimed another wag, to the inexpressible alarm of the ladies, and the great anger of Mr. Osborne. "For Heaven's sake, Jos, let us get up and go," cried that gentleman, and the young women rose. "Stop, my dearest diddle-diddle-darling," shouted Jos, now as bold as a lion, and clasping Miss Rebecca round the waist. Rebecca started, but she could not get away her hand. The laughter outside redoubled. Jos continued to drink, to make love, and to sing; and, winking and waving his glass gracefully to his audience, challenged all or any to come in and take a share of his punch. Mr. Osborne was just on the point of knocking down a gentleman in top-boots, who proposed to take advantage of this invitation, and a commotion seemed to be inevitable, when by the greatest good luck a gentleman of the name of Dobbin, who had been walking about the gardens, stepped up to the box. "Be off, you fools!" said this gentleman--shouldering off a great number of the crowd, who vanished presently before his cocked hat and fierce appearance--and he entered the box in a most agitated state. "Good Heavens! Dobbin, where have you been?" Osborne said, seizing the white cashmere shawl from his friend's arm, and huddling up Amelia in it.--"Make yourself useful, and take charge of Jos here, whilst I take the ladies to the carriage." Jos was for rising to interfere--but a single push from Osborne's finger sent him puffing back into his seat again, and the lieutenant was enabled to remove the ladies in safety. Jos kissed his hand to them as they retreated, and hiccupped out "Bless you! Bless you!" Then, seizing Captain Dobbin's hand, and weeping in the most pitiful way, he confided to that gentleman the secret of his loves. He adored that girl who had just gone out; he had broken her heart, he knew he had, by his conduct; he would marry her next morning at St. George's, Hanover Square; he'd knock up the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth: he would, by Jove! and have him in readiness; and, acting on this hint, Captain Dobbin shrewdly induced him to leave the gardens and hasten to Lambeth Palace, and, when once out of the gates, easily conveyed Mr. Jos Sedley into a hackney-coach, which deposited him safely at his lodgings. George Osborne conducted the girls home in safety: and when the door was closed upon them, and as he walked across Russell Square, laughed so as to astonish the watchman. Amelia looked very ruefully at her friend, as they went up stairs, and kissed her, and went to bed without any more talking. "He must propose to-morrow," thought Rebecca. "He called me his soul's darling, four times; he squeezed my hand in Amelia's presence. He must propose to-morrow." And so thought Amelia, too. And I dare say she thought of the dress she was to wear as bridesmaid, and of the presents which she should make to her nice little sister-in-law, and of a subsequent ceremony in which she herself might play a principal part, &c., and &c., and &c., and &c. Oh, ignorant young creatures! How little do you know the effect of rack punch! What is the rack in the punch, at night, to the rack in the head of a morning? To this truth I can vouch as a man; there is no headache in the world like that caused by Vauxhall punch. Through the lapse of twenty years, I can remember the consequence of two glasses! two wine-glasses! but two, upon the honour of a gentleman; and Joseph Sedley, who had a liver complaint, had swallowed at least a quart of the abominable mixture. That next morning, which Rebecca thought was to dawn upon her fortune, found Sedley groaning in agonies which the pen refuses to describe. Soda-water was not invented yet. Small beer--will it be believed!--was the only drink with which unhappy gentlemen soothed the fever of their previous night's potation. With this mild beverage before him, George Osborne found the ex-Collector of Boggley Wollah groaning on the sofa at his lodgings. Dobbin was already in the room, good-naturedly tending his patient of the night before. The two officers, looking at the prostrate Bacchanalian, and askance at each other, exchanged the most frightful sympathetic grins. Even Sedley's valet, the most solemn and correct of gentlemen, with the muteness and gravity of an undertaker, could hardly keep his countenance in order, as he looked at his unfortunate master. "Mr. Sedley was uncommon wild last night, sir," he whispered in confidence to Osborne, as the latter mounted the stair. "He wanted to fight the 'ackney-coachman, sir. The Capting was obliged to bring him upstairs in his harms like a babby." A momentary smile flickered over Mr. Brush's features as he spoke; instantly, however, they relapsed into their usual unfathomable calm, as he flung open the drawing-room door, and announced "Mr. Hosbin." "How are you, Sedley?" that young wag began, after surveying his victim. "No bones broke? There's a hackney-coachman downstairs with a black eye, and a tied-up head, vowing he'll have the law of you." "What do you mean--law?" Sedley faintly asked. "For thrashing him last night--didn't he, Dobbin? You hit out, sir, like Molyneux. The watchman says he never saw a fellow go down so straight. Ask Dobbin." "You DID have a round with the coachman," Captain Dobbin said, "and showed plenty of fight too." "And that fellow with the white coat at Vauxhall! How Jos drove at him! How the women screamed! By Jove, sir, it did my heart good to see you. I thought you civilians had no pluck; but I'll never get in your way when you are in your cups, Jos." "I believe I'm very terrible, when I'm roused," ejaculated Jos from the sofa, and made a grimace so dreary and ludicrous, that the Captain's politeness could restrain him no longer, and he and Osborne fired off a ringing volley of laughter. Osborne pursued his advantage pitilessly. He thought Jos a milksop. He had been revolving in his mind the marriage question pending between Jos and Rebecca, and was not over well pleased that a member of a family into which he, George Osborne, of the --th, was going to marry, should make a mesalliance with a little nobody--a little upstart governess. "You hit, you poor old fellow!" said Osborne. "You terrible! Why, man, you couldn't stand--you made everybody laugh in the Gardens, though you were crying yourself. You were maudlin, Jos. Don't you remember singing a song?" "A what?" Jos asked. "A sentimental song, and calling Rosa, Rebecca, what's her name, Amelia's little friend--your dearest diddle-diddle-darling?" And this ruthless young fellow, seizing hold of Dobbin's hand, acted over the scene, to the horror of the original performer, and in spite of Dobbin's good-natured entreaties to him to have mercy. "Why should I spare him?" Osborne said to his friend's remonstrances, when they quitted the invalid, leaving him under the hands of Doctor Gollop. "What the deuce right has he to give himself his patronizing airs, and make fools of us at Vauxhall? Who's this little schoolgirl that is ogling and making love to him? Hang it, the family's low enough already, without HER. A governess is all very well, but I'd rather have a lady for my sister-in-law. I'm a liberal man; but I've proper pride, and know my own station: let her know hers. And I'll take down that great hectoring Nabob, and prevent him from being made a greater fool than he is. That's why I told him to look out, lest she brought an action against him." "I suppose you know best," Dobbin said, though rather dubiously. "You always were a Tory, and your family's one of the oldest in England. But--" "Come and see the girls, and make love to Miss Sharp yourself," the lieutenant here interrupted his friend; but Captain Dobbin declined to join Osborne in his daily visit to the young ladies in Russell Square. As George walked down Southampton Row, from Holborn, he laughed as he saw, at the Sedley Mansion, in two different stories two heads on the look-out. The fact is, Miss Amelia, in the drawing-room balcony, was looking very eagerly towards the opposite side of the Square, where Mr. Osborne dwelt, on the watch for the lieutenant himself; and Miss Sharp, from her little bed-room on the second floor, was in observation until Mr. Joseph's great form should heave in sight. "Sister Anne is on the watch-tower," said he to Amelia, "but there's nobody coming"; and laughing and enjoying the joke hugely, he described in the most ludicrous terms to Miss Sedley, the dismal condition of her brother. "I think it's very cruel of you to laugh, George," she said, looking particularly unhappy; but George only laughed the more at her piteous and discomfited mien, persisted in thinking the joke a most diverting one, and when Miss Sharp came downstairs, bantered her with a great deal of liveliness upon the effect of her charms on the fat civilian. "O Miss Sharp! if you could but see him this morning," he said-- "moaning in his flowered dressing-gown--writhing on his sofa; if you could but have seen him lolling out his tongue to Gollop the apothecary." "See whom?" said Miss Sharp. "Whom? O whom? Captain Dobbin, of course, to whom we were all so attentive, by the way, last night." "We were very unkind to him," Emmy said, blushing very much. "I--I quite forgot him." "Of course you did," cried Osborne, still on the laugh. "One can't be ALWAYS thinking about Dobbin, you know, Amelia. Can one, Miss Sharp?" "Except when he overset the glass of wine at dinner," Miss Sharp said, with a haughty air and a toss of the head, "I never gave the existence of Captain Dobbin one single moment's consideration." "Very good, Miss Sharp, I'll tell him," Osborne said; and as he spoke Miss Sharp began to have a feeling of distrust and hatred towards this young officer, which he was quite unconscious of having inspired. "He is to make fun of me, is he?" thought Rebecca. "Has he been laughing about me to Joseph? Has he frightened him? Perhaps he won't come."--A film passed over her eyes, and her heart beat quite quick. "You're always joking," said she, smiling as innocently as she could. "Joke away, Mr. George; there's nobody to defend ME." And George Osborne, as she walked away--and Amelia looked reprovingly at him--felt some little manly compunction for having inflicted any unnecessary unkindness upon this helpless creature. "My dearest Amelia," said he, "you are too good--too kind. You don't know the world. I do. And your little friend Miss Sharp must learn her station." "Don't you think Jos will--" "Upon my word, my dear, I don't know. He may, or may not. I'm not his master. I only know he is a very foolish vain fellow, and put my dear little girl into a very painful and awkward position last night. My dearest diddle-diddle-darling!" He was off laughing again, and he did it so drolly that Emmy laughed too. All that day Jos never came. But Amelia had no fear about this; for the little schemer had actually sent away the page, Mr. Sambo's aide-de-camp, to Mr. Joseph's lodgings, to ask for some book he had promised, and how he was; and the reply through Jos's man, Mr. Brush, was, that his master was ill in bed, and had just had the doctor with him. He must come to-morrow, she thought, but she never had the courage to speak a word on the subject to Rebecca; nor did that young woman herself allude to it in any way during the whole evening after the night at Vauxhall. The next day, however, as the two young ladies sate on the sofa, pretending to work, or to write letters, or to read novels, Sambo came into the room with his usual engaging grin, with a packet under his arm, and a note on a tray. "Note from Mr. Jos, Miss," says Sambo. How Amelia trembled as she opened it! So it ran: Dear Amelia,--I send you the "Orphan of the Forest." I was too ill to come yesterday. I leave town to-day for Cheltenham. Pray excuse me, if you can, to the amiable Miss Sharp, for my conduct at Vauxhall, and entreat her to pardon and forget every word I may have uttered when excited by that fatal supper. As soon as I have recovered, for my health is very much shaken, I shall go to Scotland for some months, and am Truly yours, Jos Sedley It was the death-warrant. All was over. Amelia did not dare to look at Rebecca's pale face and burning eyes, but she dropt the letter into her friend's lap; and got up, and went upstairs to her room, and cried her little heart out. Blenkinsop, the housekeeper, there sought her presently with consolation, on whose shoulder Amelia wept confidentially, and relieved herself a good deal. "Don't take on, Miss. I didn't like to tell you. But none of us in the house have liked her except at fust. I sor her with my own eyes reading your Ma's letters. Pinner says she's always about your trinket-box and drawers, and everybody's drawers, and she's sure she's put your white ribbing into her box." "I gave it her, I gave it her," Amelia said. But this did not alter Mrs. Blenkinsop's opinion of Miss Sharp. "I don't trust them governesses, Pinner," she remarked to the maid. "They give themselves the hairs and hupstarts of ladies, and their wages is no better than you nor me." It now became clear to every soul in the house, except poor Amelia, that Rebecca should take her departure, and high and low (always with the one exception) agreed that that event should take place as speedily as possible. Our good child ransacked all her drawers, cupboards, reticules, and gimcrack boxes--passed in review all her gowns, fichus, tags, bobbins, laces, silk stockings, and fallals-- selecting this thing and that and the other, to make a little heap for Rebecca. And going to her Papa, that generous British merchant, who had promised to give her as many guineas as she was years old-- she begged the old gentleman to give the money to dear Rebecca, who must want it, while she lacked for nothing. She even made George Osborne contribute, and nothing loth (for he was as free-handed a young fellow as any in the army), he went to Bond Street, and bought the best hat and spenser that money could buy. "That's George's present to you, Rebecca, dear," said Amelia, quite proud of the bandbox conveying these gifts. "What a taste he has! There's nobody like him." "Nobody," Rebecca answered. "How thankful I am to him!" She was thinking in her heart, "It was George Osborne who prevented my marriage."--And she loved George Osborne accordingly. She made her preparations for departure with great equanimity; and accepted all the kind little Amelia's presents, after just the proper degree of hesitation and reluctance. She vowed eternal gratitude to Mrs. Sedley, of course; but did not intrude herself upon that good lady too much, who was embarrassed, and evidently wishing to avoid her. She kissed Mr. Sedley's hand, when he presented her with the purse; and asked permission to consider him for the future as her kind, kind friend and protector. Her behaviour was so affecting that he was going to write her a cheque for twenty pounds more; but he restrained his feelings: the carriage was in waiting to take him to dinner, so he tripped away with a "God bless you, my dear, always come here when you come to town, you know.--Drive to the Mansion House, James." Finally came the parting with Miss Amelia, over which picture I intend to throw a veil. But after a scene in which one person was in earnest and the other a perfect performer--after the tenderest caresses, the most pathetic tears, the smelling-bottle, and some of the very best feelings of the heart, had been called into requisition--Rebecca and Amelia parted, the former vowing to love her friend for ever and ever and ever. 第 六 章    游　乐　场     我很明白我说的故事平淡无奇,不过后面就有几章惊天动地的书跟着来了.求各位好性子的读者别忘记,现在我只讲勒塞尔广场一个交易所经纪人家里的事.这家的人和普通人一样的散步.吃中饭.吃晚饭.说话.谈情.而且在他们的恋爱过程中也没有什么新奇和热情的事件.眼前的情形是这样的:奥斯本正在和爱米丽亚恋爱;他请了他的老朋友来吃晚饭,然后去逛游乐场.乔斯.赛特笠爱上了利蓓加.他到底娶她不娶呢?这就是当前最要紧的问题.     这题材可以用各种不同的手法来处理.文章的风格可以典雅,可以诙谐,也可以带些浪漫的色彩.譬如说,如果我把背景移到格罗芙纳广场,(以下一段模仿和讽刺当时布尔活尔.立登(Ｂｕｌｗｅｒ　Ｌｙｔｔｏｎ)等专写贵族生活的小说.)虽然还是本来的故事,准能够吸引好些读者.我可以谈到乔瑟夫.赛特笠勋爵怎么陷入情网,奥斯本侯爵怎么倾心于公爵的女儿爱米丽亚小姐,而且她尊贵的爸爸已经完全同意.或者我不描写贵族,只写社会底层的生活,把赛特笠先生厨房里的形形色色搬些出来,形容黑听差三菩爱上了厨娘(这倒是事实),为着她跟马车夫打架;管刀叉的小打杂偷了一只冷羊腿,给人当场捉出来;赛特笠小姐新用的贴身丫头不拿蜡烛不肯去睡觉等等.这些情节能够逗人发笑,显得是现实生活的片断.再不然,我们挑选绝端相反的道路,利用恐怖的气氛,(以下一段讽刺爱因斯窝斯(Ｗ．Ｈ．Ａｉｎｓｗｏｒｔｈ)等专写强盗的小说.)把那贴身女佣人的相好写成一个偷盗为生的恶人,领着党羽冲到屋子里,把黑三菩杀死在他主人面前,又把穿了睡衣的爱米丽亚抢去,直到第三卷才还她自由.这样,小说便容易写的入神,能叫读者把一章章惊心动魄的故事一口气读下去,紧张得气也透不过来.我的读者可不能指望看到这么离奇的情节,因为我的书里面只有家常的琐碎.请读者们别奢望,本章只讲游乐场里面的事,而且短得没有资格算一章正经书.可是话又得说回来,它的确是本书的一章,而且占着很重要的地位.人生一世,总有些片段当时看着无关紧要,而事实上却牵动了大局.     所以咱们还是跟着勒塞尔广场的一群人坐了马车上游乐场去吧.乔斯和利蓓加占了正座,也就没有多余的空隙了.奥斯本先生夹在都宾上尉和爱米丽亚中间,坐在倒座上.     车子里人人心里都明白,那天晚上乔斯准会向利蓓加.夏泼求婚.家里的父母已经默许,不过我跟你说句体己话,赛特笠先生很有些瞧不起他的儿子.他说乔斯自私,懒惰,爱面子,一股子妞儿气.他看不惯儿子的时髦人习气,每逢乔斯摆起架子自吹自卖的时候,就哈哈大笑.他说:"我的家私将来有一半儿是这家伙的份.而且他自己挣得也不少了.不过我很明白,如果我和你和他妹妹明儿都死掉的话,他也不过叫声'老天爷!,然后照样吃他的饭.所以我不高兴为他操心.他爱娶谁就娶谁.我不管他的事."     爱米丽亚就不同了,满心希望亲事成功,一则她做人明达,二则这也是她的脾气.有一两回,乔斯仿佛有些很要紧的话想和她说,她也是巴不得要听,可惜那胖子的衷肠话儿实在没法出口;他重重的叹了一口大气,转身走掉了.他妹妹因此非常失望.     这个猜不透的谜使温柔的爱米丽亚激动得老是定不下心.她不好和利蓓加说起这个难出口的问题,只好和管家娘子白兰金索泊太太密密的长谈了好几回.管家娘子露了些口风给上房女佣人.上房女佣人也许约略的对厨娘说过几句.厨娘一定又去告诉了所有做买卖的.因此在勒塞尔广场的圈子里,好些人在纷纷的议论乔斯先生的亲事.     赛特笠太太当然觉得儿子娶个画师的女儿,未免玷辱了门楣.白兰金索泊太太对她嚷道:"咳,太太,您嫁给赛先生的时候,家里也不过开个杂货铺子罢咧!先生也不过做经纪人的小书记.两面的家私一共合起来还不满五百镑呢.今儿咱们不也挺有钱了吗?"爱米丽亚也是这个意思.赛特笠太太做人随和,慢慢的也就改了本来的成见.     赛特笠先生是无可无不可的.他说:"乔斯爱娶谁就娶谁,反正不是我的事.那女孩子没有钱,可是当年赛特笠太太也一样穷.她看上去性情温顺,也很聪明,也许会把乔斯管得好好儿的.亲爱的,还是她吧,总比娶个黑不溜秋的媳妇回来,养出十来个黄黑脸皮的孙子孙女儿好些."     这样看起来,利蓓加真的交了好运.吃饭的时候,她总挽着乔斯的胳膊下楼,已经成了惯例.而且她也曾傍着他坐了他的敞篷马车出去兜过风.这又肥又大的花花公子赶着拉车的灰色马,样子又从容,又威风.当下虽然没人提到婚姻两字,却是大家心里有数.利蓓加只等乔斯向她正式求婚,暗暗羡慕人家有亲娘的好处.一个慈爱的妈妈只消十分钟就可以解决问题,她只要跟小伙子细细致致谈几句心腹话儿,准能叫对方把那难以启齿的一段话说出口来.     那晚马车走过西明斯德桥的时候,大致的情形就些这样.     他们一群人不久在皇家花园下车.乔斯神气活现从车子里出来,踩得车子吱吱的响.旁边看热闹的瞧见这么个胖子,欢呼起来.乔斯涨红了脸扶着利蓓加先走,看上去又肥大又威武.爱米丽亚当然有乔治招呼,高兴得活像太阳里的一树玫瑰花.     乔治说:"我说呀,都宾,你是个好人,给我们照看照看披肩什么的."说着,他和赛特笠小姐成一对儿走了.乔斯带着利蓓加也挤进了花园门.老实的都宾却抱着许多披肩在门口替大家买票.     他很虚心的跟在后头,不愿意煞风景.利蓓加和乔斯并不在他心上.不过他觉得爱米丽亚真是了不起,竟配得上出色的乔治.奥斯本.这一对漂亮的年轻人儿正在小径里穿来穿去.爱米丽亚瞧着样样东西都新鲜有趣,从心里乐出来,都宾见她这样,仿佛做爸爸的一样欢喜.说不定他也希望胳膊上挽着的不只是一块披肩(旁边的人瞧见这傻头傻脑的年轻军官手里抱着女人的衣著,都在好笑),可是威廉.都宾向来不大为自己打算,只要他的朋友受用,他还有什么可抱怨的呢?不瞒你说,游乐场里的各种趣事,都宾连正眼也不看.场里千千万万所谓"特别加添"的灯,老是点得亮晃晃的.场子中心有个镀金的大蚶子壳,下面是音乐台,那儿好几个戴硬边帽子的琴师奏着醉人的曲子.唱曲儿的唱着各色好听的歌儿,有的内容滑稽,有的却很多情.许多伦敦土生土长的男男女女在跳民间舞,一面跳着蹦着,一面彼此捶打笑乐.一块照牌上写着说煞纪太太(煞纪太太(Ｍａｄａｍｅ　Ｓａｑｕｉ,１７８６—１８６６),法国有名走绳索玩杂耍的女艺人.)即刻就要爬着通天索子上天.点得雪亮的隐士庐里面老是坐着那隐士.四面的小径黑�绝镜�,正好给年轻的情人们相会.好些穿了旧号衣的人轮流从一个瓶子里喝麦酒.茶座上装点得灯光闪烁,坐在里面吃东西的客人都很快乐,其实他们吃的火腿片儿薄得几乎看不见,只好算自己哄自己.还有那笑眯眯.温和驯良的白痴叫辛伯森的,想来在那时候已经在游乐场里了.这些形形色色,都宾上尉全不理会.     他拿着爱米丽亚的细绒披肩走东走西,在镀金的蚶子壳底下站了一会,看沙尔孟太太表演《波罗的诺之战》.这首歌词的内容恶毒的攻击拿破仑;这科西嘉小人一朝得志,最近才在俄国打了败仗.都宾走开去的时候,口里学着哼那支曲子.哪知自己一听,哼的却是爱米丽亚.赛特笠吃晚饭之前在楼梯上唱的歌儿,忍不住好笑起来,因为他实在跟猫头鹰一样不会唱歌.     这些年轻人分成一对一对,进了花园十分钟之后就散开了.大家郑重其事的约好在晚上再见面.这是理所当然的事,因为在游乐场里,惯例是分成一组一组的,到吃宵夜的时候大家见面,彼此告诉这一段时间里面的经历.     奥斯本先生和爱米丽亚究竟有什么奇遇是个秘密.不过咱们知道他们两个非常快乐,行为举止也很得体.十五年来他们总在一处,说的话当然没有什么新奇.     利蓓加.夏泼小姐和她那身材魁梧的朋友迷了路,走到一条冷僻的小路上,四面只有一百来对像他们一样走失的人.两个人都觉得这时节的风光旖旎,是个紧要关头.夏泼小姐暗想这是难得的机会,再不把赛特笠先生嘴边想说而说不出来的情话引出来,再等什么时候呢?他们方才在看莫斯科百景的时候,附近一个卤莽的男人踩了夏泼小姐一脚,她轻轻的尖叫一声,倒在赛特笠先生怀里.经过这件事以后,乔斯更加动了情,胆子也越来越大,便又讲了几个以前至少唠叨过五六遍的印度故事.     利蓓加道:"我真想到印度去!"     乔瑟夫一股子柔情蜜意,说道:"真的吗?"他提出了这个巧妙的问题,唏哩呼噜的直喘气,利蓓加的手恰巧搁在他胸口,觉得他的心正在别别的乱跳,由此可以推想他一定在准备进一步再说一句更温存的话儿.那知道事不凑巧,偏偏场子里打起铃子催大家去看焰火,游客顿时推推挤挤奔跑起来,这一对怪有趣的情人只得也跟着大家一伙儿同去.     都宾上尉发现游乐场里的各项杂耍并没有什么好玩,便想跟大家一块儿去吃宵夜.那时其余的两对已经占了座儿坐好,都宾在茶座前面来回走了两遭,没一个人理会他.桌子上只摆了四份刀叉杯盘,那配好的两对咭咭呱呱谈得很高兴.都宾知道他们已经把他忘得干干净净,好像他根本不存在.     都宾上尉对他们看了一会,默默的想道:"我是个多余的人,不如找隐士谈天去."他避开了人声嘈杂.杯盘叮当的热闹场所,向没有灯光的小路上走.小路的尽头就住着那有名的冒牌隐士.这件事做来令人扫兴.根据我自己的亲身经验,单身汉子最乏味的消遣莫过于一个人逛游乐场.     其余的两对兴高采烈的在茶座里谈天,说的话又亲热又有趣.乔斯得意得了不得,神气活现的把茶房呼来喝去.他切鸡,拌生菜,开酒瓶斟香槟酒,又吃又喝,把桌子上的东西消缴了一大半.最后,他又要了一碗五味酒,因为上游乐场的人没有一个不喝它.他说:"茶房,来碗五味酒."     那碗五味酒就是我写书的起因.五味酒跟别的原因不是一样好吗?美丽的萝莎梦(英王亨利第二的情人.传说亨利第二把她安置在迷阵中,不许别人走近她:后来爱莲诺皇后设法闯进去把她害死.究竟是否用的氰酸,不得而知.萝莎梦死在１１７６年.)因为一碗氰酸离开了人世.按照郎浦利哀博士(郎浦利哀(Ｊｏｈｎ　Ｌｅｍｐｒｉèｒｅ),生年不可考,死在１８２４年,著名古典学者.著作有"希腊罗马古人名字典".)的考据,亚历山大大帝也因为一杯酒断送了性命(传说亚历山大给图谋不轨的加桑特毒死.).我这本"没有主角的小说"(本书的副标题是"没有主角的小说"(Ａ　Ｎｏｖｅｌ　Ｗｉｔｈｏｕｔ　Ａ　Ｈｅｒｏ).),里面各个重要人物的遭遇都受这碗五味酒的影响.虽然书里面大多数的人涓滴不曾入口,可是受它的影响却不浅.     两位小姐不喝酒,奥斯本也不爱喝.结果馋嘴的大胖子把一碗酒都灌了下去.喝过后之后,他兴致勃发,那股子劲儿起初不过叫人诧异,后来简直令人难堪.他扯起嗓子大说大笑,引得好几十个闲人围着他们的座位看热闹.和他一起来的都是些天真没经大事的人,窘的无可奈何.他自告奋勇唱歌给大家听,逼尖了喉咙,一听就知道他喝醉了酒.镀金的蚶子壳底下本来有音乐家在弹唱,好些人围着听,乔斯一唱,差些儿把那边的听众全吸引过来.大家都给他拍手叫好.     一个说:"好哇,胖子!"另一个说:"再唱一段吧,但尼尔.兰勃脱!"(但尼尔.兰勃脱(Ｄａｎｉｅｌ　Ｌａｍｂｅｒｔ,１７７０—１８４２),英国有名的大胖子.)又有一个口角俏皮的说:"这身材正好走绳索."两位小姐急得走投无路,奥斯本先生大怒,嚷道:"天哪!乔斯,咱们快回家吧!"两个姑娘听了忙站起来.     乔斯那时胆子大得像狮子,搂着利蓓加小姐的腰大声叫道:"等一筹,我的宝贝,我的肉儿小心肝!"利蓓加吓了一跳,可是挣不脱手.外面的笑声越发大了.乔斯只顾喝酒,唱歌,求爱.他眨眨眼睛,态度很潇洒的对外面的人晃着杯子,问他们敢不敢进来和他一起喝.     一个穿大靴子的男人便想趁势走进来,奥斯本先生举起手来打算把他打倒,看来一场混战是免不掉的了.还算运气好,刚在这时候,一位名叫都宾的先生走了进来.他本来在园里闲逛,这当儿赶快走到桌子旁边来.这位先生说道:"你们这些糊涂东西,快给我滚开."一面说,一面把一大群人往旁边推.众人见他戴了硬边帽子,来势凶猛,一哄散了.都宾走进座儿,样子非常激动.     奥斯本一把抢过披肩来,替爱米丽亚裹好,一面说:"天哪!都宾,你到哪儿去了?快来帮忙.你招呼着乔斯,让我把小姐们送到车子里去."     乔斯还要站起来干涉,给奥斯本一指头推倒,喘着气又坐了下去.中尉才算平平安安带着小姐们走掉.乔斯亲着自己的手向她们的背影送吻,一面打呃一面说道:"求天保佑你!求天保佑你!"他拉住上尉的手哀哀的哭泣,把藏在心里的爱情告诉他,说自己一心恋着刚才走出去的女孩子,可是做错了事,使她心碎了.他说他打算第二天早上和她在汉诺佛广场的圣.乔治教堂里结婚,无论如何先得到兰白斯去把坎脱白莱大主教叫醒,让他准备着.都宾上尉见机,趁势催他赶快到兰白斯宫里去.一出园门,他毫不费事的把乔斯送进一辆街车,一路平安直到他家里.     乔治.奥斯本把姑娘们护送回家,没有再生什么枝节.大门一关上,他哈哈大笑着穿过勒塞尔广场回家,那守夜的见他傻笑个不完,心里老大诧异.两个女孩儿一路上楼,爱米丽亚垂头丧气的瞧着她朋友,吻了她一下,一直到上床没有再说话.     利蓓加心里暗想:"明天他准会求婚.他叫我心肝宝贝儿,一共叫了四回.他还当着爱米丽亚的面捏我的手.明天他一定会向我求婚了."爱米丽亚也是这么想.我猜她一定还盘算做傧相的时候穿什么衣服,应该送什么礼物给她的好嫂子.她又想到将来还有一次典礼,她自己就是主要的角色,此外她还想到许多有关的事情.     不懂事的小姑娘!你们真不知道五味酒的力量.晚上的大醉,比起明天早上的头痛来,那真不算什么.无论哪一种头痛,总没有像喝了游乐场里的五味酒所引起的头痛那样利害.我担保这不是假话.虽然事隔二十年,我还记得两杯酒的后果.其实我不过喝了小小的两酒盅,我人格担保,这两盅酒就够受的了,乔瑟夫.赛特笠本来已经在闹肝病,却把这害人的五味酒喝了许多,少说也有一夸尔.     第二天早上,利蓓加以为她的好日子到了.乔瑟夫.赛特笠却在哼哼唧唧的忍受形容不出的苦楚.当年还没有苏打水.隔夜的宿醉只能用淡啤酒来解,说来真叫人不相信.乔治.奥斯本进屋子的时候,看见卜克雷.窝拉的前任税官躺在安乐椅里哼哼,前面桌子上搁了一杯淡麦酒.好心的都宾早已来了,正在服侍病人.两个军官瞧着乔斯闹酒闹得这么少气无力,斜过眼对瞧着使了个眼色,彼此心照,嬉皮笑脸的做起鬼脸来.赛特笠的贴身佣人是个一丝不苟的规矩人,像包办丧事的人一般,向来板着脸不言语,现在看着他主人的可怜样儿,也掌不住要笑.     奥斯本上楼的时候,他偷偷告诉他道:"先生,赛特笠先生昨儿晚上可真是野.他要跟马车夫打架呢,先生.上尉只好抱小娃娃似的把他抱上楼."这位白勒希先生一面说话,脸上竟掠过了一个笑影儿.不过他打开房门给奥斯本先生通报的时候,又恢复到原来冷冰冰莫测高深的样子了.     奥斯本立刻拿乔斯开玩笑,看着他说道:"赛特笠,你好哇?没伤骨头吧?楼下有个马车夫,头上包着绷带,眼睛都打青了,赌神罚咒的说要到法院去告你呢."     赛特笠轻轻哼道:"你说什么?告我?"     "因为你昨天晚上揍他.是不是,都宾?你像莫利纳(当时有名的拳师.)一样大打出手.守夜的人说他从来没见过这么利害的人,不信你问都宾."     都宾上尉道:"你的确跟车夫打过一合,利害得很."     "还有在游乐场里那个穿白外套的人呢.乔斯冲着他打.那些女人吓得吱吱喳喳直叫.喝!我瞧着你就乐.我以为你们不当兵的都没有胆子,真是大错.乔斯啊,你喝醉了酒我可不敢冲撞你了."     乔斯在安乐椅里接口道:"我性子上来之后的确不是好惹的."他说话的时候那愁眉苦脸的样子实在可笑,上尉虽然讲究礼貌,也忍不住和奥斯本一起哈哈大笑起来.     奥斯本为人刻薄,趁势接下去耍他.在他看来,乔斯不过是个脓包.对于乔斯和利蓓加的亲事,他细细的考虑了一下,觉得老大不如意.他,第......联队的乔治.奥斯本,既然已经准备和赛特笠一家结亲,那么这家的人就不该降低身分去娶一个没有地位的女人.利蓓加不过是个一朝得志的家庭教师罢了.他道:"你这可怜东西.你以为自己真的会打人,真的可怕吗?得了吧,你站都站不直,游乐场里人人都笑话你,虽然你自己在哭.乔斯,你昨儿晚上醉得不成体统.记得吗?你还唱了一支情歌呢!"     乔斯问道:"一支什么?"     "一支情歌.爱米丽亚的小朋友叫什么罗莎?利蓓加?你管她叫你的宝贝,你的肉儿小心肝哩!"无情的小伙子拉起都宾的手,把隔天的戏重演了一遍,本来的演员看得羞恨难当.都宾究竟是好人,劝奥斯本不要捉弄乔斯,可是奥斯本不理.     他们不久便和病人告别,让高洛浦医生去调理他.奥斯本不服朋友责备他的话,答道:"我何必饶他?他凭什么摆出高人一等的架子来?他干吗在游乐场扫咱们的面子?那个跟他飞眼风吊膀子的女孩子又算个什么?真倒楣!他们家的门第已经够低的了,再加上她,还成什么话?做家庭教师当然也不坏,不过我宁可我的亲戚是个有身分的小姐.我是个心地宽大的人,可是我有正当的自尊心.我知道我的地位,她也应该明白她的地位.那印度财主好欺负人,我非得让他吃点儿苦不可.并且也得叫他别糊涂过了头,因为这样我才叫他留神,那女孩子说不定会上法院告他."     都宾迟疑着说道:"你的见解当然比我高明.你一向是保守党,你家又是英国最旧的世家之一.可是......"     中尉截断朋友的话说道:"跟我一块儿拜望两位姑娘去吧.你自己向夏泼小姐去谈情说爱得了."奥斯本是天天上勒塞尔广场的,都宾上尉不愿意跟他去,便拒绝了.     乔治从霍尔本走过沙乌撒泼顿街,看见赛特笠公馆的两层楼上都有人往外探头张望,忍不住笑起来.原来爱米丽亚小姐在客厅外面的阳台上,眼巴巴的望着广场对面奥斯本的家,正在等他去.利蓓加在三层楼上的小卧房里面,盼望看见乔斯搬着肥大的身子快快出现.     乔治笑着对爱米丽亚说道:"安恩妹妹(童话《蓝胡子》中女主角,蓝胡子的故事见２４页注①.)正在了望台上等人,可惜没人来."他对赛特笠小姐淋漓尽致的挖苦她哥哥狼狈的样子,觉得这笑话妙不可言.     她听了很不受用,答道:"乔治,你心肠太硬了,怎么还笑他?"乔治见她垂头丧气,越发笑起来,再三夸这笑话儿有趣.夏泼小姐一下楼,他就打趣她,形容那胖子印度官儿怎么为她颠倒,说得有声有色.     "啊,夏泼小姐!可惜你没见他今天早上的样子.穿着花花绿绿的梳妆衣在安乐椅里打滚,难过得直哼哼.他伸出舌头给高洛浦医生看,那腔调才滑稽呢."     夏泼小姐问道:"你说谁啊?"     "谁啊?谁啊?当然是都宾上尉��,说起这话,我倒想起来了,昨儿晚上咱们对他真殷勤啊!"     爱米丽亚涨红了脸说:"咱们真不应该.我......我根本把他忘了."     奥斯本笑嚷道:"当然把他忘了.谁能够老记着都宾呢?夏泼小姐,你说对不对?"     夏泼小姐骄气凌人的扬着脸儿说道:"我从来不理会有没有都宾上尉这么个人,除非他吃饭的时候倒翻了酒杯."     奥斯本答道:"好的,让我把这话告诉他去,夏泼小姐."他说话的时候,夏泼小姐渐渐对他起了疑心,暗暗的恨他,虽然他本人并不知道.利蓓加想道:"原来他要捉弄我.不知道他有没有在乔瑟夫跟前取笑我.说不定他把乔瑟夫吓着了.也许他不来了."这么一想,她眼前一阵昏黑,一颗心扑扑的跳.     她竭力做出天真烂漫的样子笑道:"你老爱说笑话.乔治先生,你尽管说吧,反正我是没有人撑腰的."她走开的时候,爱米丽亚对乔治.奥斯本使了一个责备的眼色.乔治自己也良心发现,觉得无故欺负这么一个没有依靠的女孩子,不大应该.他道:"最亲爱的爱米丽亚,你人太好,心太慈,不懂得世道人心.我是懂得的.你的朋友夏泼小姐应该知道她的地位."     "你想乔斯会不会......"     "我不知道.他也许会,也许不会,我反正管不着.我只知道这家伙又糊涂又爱面子,昨儿晚上害得我的宝贝儿狼狈不堪.'我的宝贝儿,我的肉儿小心肝!,"他又笑起来,样子那么滑稽,连爱米也跟着笑了.     乔斯那天没有来,爱米丽亚倒并不着急.她很有手段,使唤三菩手下的小打杂到乔瑟夫家里去问他讨一本他从前答应给她的书,顺便问候他.乔斯的佣人白勒希回说他主人病在床上,医生刚来看过病.爱米丽亚估计乔斯第二天准会回家,可是没有勇气和利蓓加谈起这件事.利蓓加本人也不开口,从游乐场里回来以后的第二个黄昏,她绝口不提乔斯的事.     第二天,两位姑娘坐在安乐椅里,表面上在做活,写信,看小说,其实只是装幌子.三菩走进来,像平常一样满面笑容,怪讨人喜欢的样子.他胁下挟着一个包,手里托着盘子,上面搁着一张便条.他道:"小姐,乔斯先生的条子."     爱米丽亚拆信的时候浑身发抖.只见信上写道:     亲爱的爱米丽亚:     送上《林中孤儿》一本.昨天我病得很重,不能回家.今天我就动身到契尔顿纳姆去了.如果可能的话,请你代我向和蔼可亲的夏泼小姐赔个不是.我在游乐场里的行为很对她不起.吃了那顿惹祸的晚饭以后,我所有的一言一动都求她忘记,求她原谅.现在我的健康大受影响.等我身体复原之后,我预备到苏格兰去休养几个月.     乔斯.赛特笠          这真是狗命票.什么都完了.爱米丽亚不敢看利蓓加苍白的脸和出火的两眼,只把信撩在她身上,自己走到楼上房间里狠狠的哭了一场.     过了不久,管家娘子白兰金索泊太太去安慰她.爱米丽亚当她心腹,靠在她肩膀上哭了一会,心里轻松了好些."别哭了,小姐.这话我本来不告诉您的,不瞒您说,她来了几天之后,我们大家就不喜欢她.我亲眼看见她偷看你妈的信.平纳说她老翻你的首饰匣子跟抽屉.人人的抽屉她都爱翻.平纳说她一定把您的白缎带搁到自己箱子里去了."     爱米丽亚忙道:"我给她的,我给她的."     这话并不能使白兰金索泊太太看重夏泼小姐.她对上房女佣人说道:"平纳,我不相信那种家庭教师.她们自以为了不起,摆出小姐的架子来,其实赚的钱也不比咱们多."     全家的人都觉得利蓓加应该动身了,上上下下的人都希望她早走,只有可怜的爱米丽亚是例外.这好孩子把所有的抽屉.壁橱.针线袋.玩具匣,细细翻了一遍,把自己的袍子.披肩.丝带.花边.丝袜.零头布.玩意儿,一件件过目;挑这样,选那样,堆成一堆,送给利蓓加.她的爸爸,那慷慨的英国商人,曾经答应女儿,她长到几岁,就给她几个基尼.爱米丽亚求他把这钱送给利蓓加,因为她自己什么都有,利蓓加才真正需要.     她甚至于要乔治.奥斯本也捐出东西来.他在军队里本来比谁都手中散漫,并不计较银钱小事,走到邦德街上买了一只帽子和一件短外衣,都是最贵重的货色.     爱米丽亚得意洋洋的拿着一纸盒礼物,对利蓓加说:"亲爱的利蓓加,这是乔治送给你的.瞧他挑得多好,他的眼光比谁都高明."     利蓓加答道:"可不是.我真感激他."她心里暗想:"破坏我婚姻的就是乔治.奥斯本."因此她对于乔治.奥斯本有什么感情也就不问可知.     她心平气和的准备动身,爱米丽亚送给她的礼物,经过不多不少的迟疑和推辞,也都收下了.对于赛特笠太太,她当然千恩万谢表示感激,可是并不多去打搅她,因为这位好太太觉得很窘,显然想躲开她.赛特笠先生送她钱的时候,她吻着他的手,希望能够把他当作最慈爱的朋友和保护人.她的行为实在令人感动,赛特笠先生险些儿又开了一张二十镑的支票送给她.可是他控制了自己的感情.马车已经在门口等着,他便快快的走掉了,嘴里说:"求老天爷保佑你,亲爱的.到伦敦来的时候上我们这儿来玩.詹姆斯,上市长公署."     最后,利蓓加和爱米丽亚告别.这一节我也不准备细说.她们两人难分难舍的搂抱着,最伤心的眼泪,最真挚的情感,还有嗅盐瓶子,都拿出来了.一个人真心诚意,另一个做了一场精采的假戏.这一幕完毕之后,两人就此分手,利蓓加发誓永远爱她的朋友,一辈子不变心.

CHAPTER VII Crawley of Queen's Crawley Among the most respected of the names beginning in C which the Court-Guide contained, in the year 18--, was that of Crawley, Sir Pitt, Baronet, Great Gaunt Street, and Queen's Crawley, Hants. This honourable name had figured constantly also in the Parliamentary list for many years, in conjunction with that of a number of other worthy gentlemen who sat in turns for the borough. It is related, with regard to the borough of Queen's Crawley, that Queen Elizabeth in one of her progresses, stopping at Crawley to breakfast, was so delighted with some remarkably fine Hampshire beer which was then presented to her by the Crawley of the day (a handsome gentleman with a trim beard and a good leg), that she forthwith erected Crawley into a borough to send two members to Parliament; and the place, from the day of that illustrious visit, took the name of Queen's Crawley, which it holds up to the present moment. And though, by the lapse of time, and those mutations which age produces in empires, cities, and boroughs, Queen's Crawley was no longer so populous a place as it had been in Queen Bess's time-- nay, was come down to that condition of borough which used to be denominated rotten--yet, as Sir Pitt Crawley would say with perfect justice in his elegant way, "Rotten! be hanged--it produces me a good fifteen hundred a year." Sir Pitt Crawley (named after the great Commoner) was the son of Walpole Crawley, first Baronet, of the Tape and Sealing-Wax Office in the reign of George II., when he was impeached for peculation, as were a great number of other honest gentlemen of those days; and Walpole Crawley was, as need scarcely be said, son of John Churchill Crawley, named after the celebrated military commander of the reign of Queen Anne. The family tree (which hangs up at Queen's Crawley) furthermore mentions Charles Stuart, afterwards called Barebones Crawley, son of the Crawley of James the First's time; and finally, Queen Elizabeth's Crawley, who is represented as the foreground of the picture in his forked beard and armour. Out of his waistcoat, as usual, grows a tree, on the main branches of which the above illustrious names are inscribed. Close by the name of Sir Pitt Crawley, Baronet (the subject of the present memoir), are written that of his brother, the Reverend Bute Crawley (the great Commoner was in disgrace when the reverend gentleman was born), rector of Crawley-cum-Snailby, and of various other male and female members of the Crawley family. Sir Pitt was first married to Grizzel, sixth daughter of Mungo Binkie, Lord Binkie, and cousin, in consequence, of Mr. Dundas. She brought him two sons: Pitt, named not so much after his father as after the heaven-born minister; and Rawdon Crawley, from the Prince of Wales's friend, whom his Majesty George IV forgot so completely. Many years after her ladyship's demise, Sir Pitt led to the altar Rosa, daughter of Mr. G. Dawson, of Mudbury, by whom he had two daughters, for whose benefit Miss Rebecca Sharp was now engaged as governess. It will be seen that the young lady was come into a family of very genteel connexions, and was about to move in a much more distinguished circle than that humble one which she had just quitted in Russell Square. She had received her orders to join her pupils, in a note which was written upon an old envelope, and which contained the following words: Sir Pitt Crawley begs Miss Sharp and baggidge may be hear on Tuesday, as I leaf for Queen's Crawley to-morrow morning ERLY. Great Gaunt Street. Rebecca had never seen a Baronet, as far as she knew, and as soon as she had taken leave of Amelia, and counted the guineas which good- natured Mr. Sedley had put into a purse for her, and as soon as she had done wiping her eyes with her handkerchief (which operation she concluded the very moment the carriage had turned the corner of the street), she began to depict in her own mind what a Baronet must be. "I wonder, does he wear a star?" thought she, "or is it only lords that wear stars? But he will be very handsomely dressed in a court suit, with ruffles, and his hair a little powdered, like Mr. Wroughton at Covent Garden. I suppose he will be awfully proud, and that I shall be treated most contemptuously. Still I must bear my hard lot as well as I can--at least, I shall be amongst GENTLEFOLKS, and not with vulgar city people": and she fell to thinking of her Russell Square friends with that very same philosophical bitterness with which, in a certain apologue, the fox is represented as speaking of the grapes. Having passed through Gaunt Square into Great Gaunt Street, the carriage at length stopped at a tall gloomy house between two other tall gloomy houses, each with a hatchment over the middle drawing- room window; as is the custom of houses in Great Gaunt Street, in which gloomy locality death seems to reign perpetual. The shutters of the first-floor windows of Sir Pitt's mansion were closed--those of the dining-room were partially open, and the blinds neatly covered up in old newspapers. John, the groom, who had driven the carriage alone, did not care to descend to ring the bell; and so prayed a passing milk-boy to perform that office for him. When the bell was rung, a head appeared between the interstices of the dining-room shutters, and the door was opened by a man in drab breeches and gaiters, with a dirty old coat, a foul old neckcloth lashed round his bristly neck, a shining bald head, a leering red face, a pair of twinkling grey eyes, and a mouth perpetually on the grin. "This Sir Pitt Crawley's?" says John, from the box. "Ees," says the man at the door, with a nod. "Hand down these 'ere trunks then," said John. "Hand 'n down yourself," said the porter. "Don't you see I can't leave my hosses? Come, bear a hand, my fine feller, and Miss will give you some beer," said John, with a horse- laugh, for he was no longer respectful to Miss Sharp, as her connexion with the family was broken off, and as she had given nothing to the servants on coming away. The bald-headed man, taking his hands out of his breeches pockets, advanced on this summons, and throwing Miss Sharp's trunk over his shoulder, carried it into the house. "Take this basket and shawl, if you please, and open the door," said Miss Sharp, and descended from the carriage in much indignation. "I shall write to Mr. Sedley and inform him of your conduct," said she to the groom. "Don't," replied that functionary. "I hope you've forgot nothink? Miss 'Melia's gownds--have you got them--as the lady's maid was to have 'ad? I hope they'll fit you. Shut the door, Jim, you'll get no good out of 'ER," continued John, pointing with his thumb towards Miss Sharp: "a bad lot, I tell you, a bad lot," and so saying, Mr. Sedley's groom drove away. The truth is, he was attached to the lady's maid in question, and indignant that she should have been robbed of her perquisites. On entering the dining-room, by the orders of the individual in gaiters, Rebecca found that apartment not more cheerful than such rooms usually are, when genteel families are out of town. The faithful chambers seem, as it were, to mourn the absence of their masters. The turkey carpet has rolled itself up, and retired sulkily under the sideboard: the pictures have hidden their faces behind old sheets of brown paper: the ceiling lamp is muffled up in a dismal sack of brown holland: the window-curtains have disappeared under all sorts of shabby envelopes: the marble bust of Sir Walpole Crawley is looking from its black corner at the bare boards and the oiled fire-irons, and the empty card-racks over the mantelpiece: the cellaret has lurked away behind the carpet: the chairs are turned up heads and tails along the walls: and in the dark corner opposite the statue, is an old-fashioned crabbed knife-box, locked and sitting on a dumb waiter. Two kitchen chairs, and a round table, and an attenuated old poker and tongs were, however, gathered round the fire-place, as was a saucepan over a feeble sputtering fire. There was a bit of cheese and bread, and a tin candlestick on the table, and a little black porter in a pint-pot. "Had your dinner, I suppose? It is not too warm for you? Like a drop of beer?" "Where is Sir Pitt Crawley?" said Miss Sharp majestically. "He, he! I'm Sir Pitt Crawley. Reklect you owe me a pint for bringing down your luggage. He, he! Ask Tinker if I aynt. Mrs. Tinker, Miss Sharp; Miss Governess, Mrs. Charwoman. Ho, ho!" The lady addressed as Mrs. Tinker at this moment made her appearance with a pipe and a paper of tobacco, for which she had been despatched a minute before Miss Sharp's arrival; and she handed the articles over to Sir Pitt, who had taken his seat by the fire. "Where's the farden?" said he. "I gave you three halfpence. Where's the change, old Tinker?" "There!" replied Mrs. Tinker, flinging down the coin; it's only baronets as cares about farthings." "A farthing a day is seven shillings a year," answered the M.P.; "seven shillings a year is the interest of seven guineas. Take care of your farthings, old Tinker, and your guineas will come quite nat'ral." "You may be sure it's Sir Pitt Crawley, young woman," said Mrs. Tinker, surlily; "because he looks to his farthings. You'll know him better afore long." "And like me none the worse, Miss Sharp," said the old gentleman, with an air almost of politeness. "I must be just before I'm generous." "He never gave away a farthing in his life," growled Tinker. "Never, and never will: it's against my principle. Go and get another chair from the kitchen, Tinker, if you want to sit down; and then we'll have a bit of supper." Presently the baronet plunged a fork into the saucepan on the fire, and withdrew from the pot a piece of tripe and an onion, which he divided into pretty equal portions, and of which he partook with Mrs. Tinker. "You see, Miss Sharp, when I'm not here Tinker's on board wages: when I'm in town she dines with the family. Haw! haw! I'm glad Miss Sharp's not hungry, ain't you, Tink?" And they fell to upon their frugal supper. After supper Sir Pitt Crawley began to smoke his pipe; and when it became quite dark, he lighted the rushlight in the tin candlestick, and producing from an interminable pocket a huge mass of papers, began reading them, and putting them in order. "I'm here on law business, my dear, and that's how it happens that I shall have the pleasure of such a pretty travelling companion to- morrow." "He's always at law business," said Mrs. Tinker, taking up the pot of porter. "Drink and drink about," said the Baronet. "Yes; my dear, Tinker is quite right: I've lost and won more lawsuits than any man in England. Look here at Crawley, Bart. v. Snaffle. I'll throw him over, or my name's not Pitt Crawley. Podder and another versus Crawley, Bart. Overseers of Snaily parish against Crawley, Bart. They can't prove it's common: I'll defy 'em; the land's mine. It no more belongs to the parish than it does to you or Tinker here. I'll beat 'em, if it cost me a thousand guineas. Look over the papers; you may if you like, my dear. Do you write a good hand? I'll make you useful when we're at Queen's Crawley, depend on it, Miss Sharp. Now the dowager's dead I want some one." "She was as bad as he," said Tinker. "She took the law of every one of her tradesmen; and turned away forty-eight footmen in four year." "She was close--very close," said the Baronet, simply; "but she was a valyble woman to me, and saved me a steward."--And in this confidential strain, and much to the amusement of the new-comer, the conversation continued for a considerable time. Whatever Sir Pitt Crawley's qualities might be, good or bad, he did not make the least disguise of them. He talked of himself incessantly, sometimes in the coarsest and vulgarest Hampshire accent; sometimes adopting the tone of a man of the world. And so, with injunctions to Miss Sharp to be ready at five in the morning, he bade her good night. "You'll sleep with Tinker to-night," he said; "it's a big bed, and there's room for two. Lady Crawley died in it. Good night." Sir Pitt went off after this benediction, and the solemn Tinker, rushlight in hand, led the way up the great bleak stone stairs, past the great dreary drawing-room doors, with the handles muffled up in paper, into the great front bedroom, where Lady Crawley had slept her last. The bed and chamber were so funereal and gloomy, you might have fancied, not only that Lady Crawley died in the room, but that her ghost inhabited it. Rebecca sprang about the apartment, however, with the greatest liveliness, and had peeped into the huge wardrobes, and the closets, and the cupboards, and tried the drawers which were locked, and examined the dreary pictures and toilette appointments, while the old charwoman was saying her prayers. "I shouldn't like to sleep in this yeer bed without a good conscience, Miss," said the old woman. "There's room for us and a half-dozen of ghosts in it," says Rebecca. "Tell me all about Lady Crawley and Sir Pitt Crawley, and everybody, my DEAR Mrs. Tinker." But old Tinker was not to be pumped by this little cross-questioner; and signifying to her that bed was a place for sleeping, not conversation, set up in her corner of the bed such a snore as only the nose of innocence can produce. Rebecca lay awake for a long, long time, thinking of the morrow, and of the new world into which she was going, and of her chances of success there. The rushlight flickered in the basin. The mantelpiece cast up a great black shadow, over half of a mouldy old sampler, which her defunct ladyship had worked, no doubt, and over two little family pictures of young lads, one in a college gown, and the other in a red jacket like a soldier. When she went to sleep, Rebecca chose that one to dream about. At four o'clock, on such a roseate summer's morning as even made Great Gaunt Street look cheerful, the faithful Tinker, having wakened her bedfellow, and bid her prepare for departure, unbarred and unbolted the great hall door (the clanging and clapping whereof startled the sleeping echoes in the street), and taking her way into Oxford Street, summoned a coach from a stand there. It is needless to particularize the number of the vehicle, or to state that the driver was stationed thus early in the neighbourhood of Swallow Street, in hopes that some young buck, reeling homeward from the tavern, might need the aid of his vehicle, and pay him with the generosity of intoxication. It is likewise needless to say that the driver, if he had any such hopes as those above stated, was grossly disappointed; and that the worthy Baronet whom he drove to the City did not give him one single penny more than his fare. It was in vain that Jehu appealed and stormed; that he flung down Miss Sharp's bandboxes in the gutter at the 'Necks, and swore he would take the law of his fare. "You'd better not," said one of the ostlers; "it's Sir Pitt Crawley." "So it is, Joe," cried the Baronet, approvingly; "and I'd like to see the man can do me." "So should oi," said Joe, grinning sulkily, and mounting the Baronet's baggage on the roof of the coach. "Keep the box for me, Leader," exclaims the Member of Parliament to the coachman; who replied, "Yes, Sir Pitt," with a touch of his hat, and rage in his soul (for he had promised the box to a young gentleman from Cambridge, who would have given a crown to a certainty), and Miss Sharp was accommodated with a back seat inside the carriage, which might be said to be carrying her into the wide world. How the young man from Cambridge sulkily put his five great-coats in front; but was reconciled when little Miss Sharp was made to quit the carriage, and mount up beside him--when he covered her up in one of his Benjamins, and became perfectly good-humoured--how the asthmatic gentleman, the prim lady, who declared upon her sacred honour she had never travelled in a public carriage before (there is always such a lady in a coach--Alas! was; for the coaches, where are they?), and the fat widow with the brandy-bottle, took their places inside--how the porter asked them all for money, and got sixpence from the gentleman and five greasy halfpence from the fat widow--and how the carriage at length drove away--now threading the dark lanes of Aldersgate, anon clattering by the Blue Cupola of St. Paul's, jingling rapidly by the strangers' entry of Fleet-Market, which, with Exeter 'Change, has now departed to the world of shadows--how they passed the White Bear in Piccadilly, and saw the dew rising up from the market-gardens of Knightsbridge--how Turnhamgreen, Brentwood, Bagshot, were passed--need not be told here. But the writer of these pages, who has pursued in former days, and in the same bright weather, the same remarkable journey, cannot but think of it with a sweet and tender regret. Where is the road now, and its merry incidents of life? Is there no Chelsea or Greenwich for the old honest pimple-nosed coachmen? I wonder where are they, those good fellows? Is old Weller alive or dead? and the waiters, yea, and the inns at which they waited, and the cold rounds of beef inside, and the stunted ostler, with his blue nose and clinking pail, where is he, and where is his generation? To those great geniuses now in petticoats, who shall write novels for the beloved reader's children, these men and things will be as much legend and history as Nineveh, or Coeur de Lion, or Jack Sheppard. For them stage-coaches will have become romances--a team of four bays as fabulous as Bucephalus or Black Bess. Ah, how their coats shone, as the stable-men pulled their clothes off, and away they went--ah, how their tails shook, as with smoking sides at the stage's end they demurely walked away into the inn-yard. Alas! we shall never hear the horn sing at midnight, or see the pike-gates fly open any more. Whither, however, is the light four-inside Trafalgar coach carrying us? Let us be set down at Queen's Crawley without further divagation, and see how Miss Rebecca Sharp speeds there. 第 七 章    女王的克劳莱镇上的克劳莱一家     在一八......年的《宫廷指南》里,从男爵毕脱.克劳莱的名字在Ｃ字开头的一部门里面算是很说得响的.他家的庄地在汉泊郡女王的克劳莱镇上,伦敦的府邸就在大岗脱街.这显赫的名字已经连着好几年在国会议员名单上出现,和他们镇上次第当选的议员,名字都刊印在一起.     关于女王的克劳莱镇,有这样的传说.有一回伊丽莎白女王出游,走过克劳莱镇,留下吃了一餐早饭.当时的一位克劳莱先生(他相貌很漂亮,胡子修得整齐,腿也生得好看)......当时的一位克劳莱先生献上一种汉泊郡特产的美味啤酒.女王大大的赏识,下令把克劳莱镇改成特别市镇,可以选举两个代表出席国会.自从那次游幸之后,直到今天,人人都管那地方叫女王的克劳莱镇.可惜无论什么王国.城市.乡镇,总不免跟着时代变迁,到现在女王的克劳莱镇已经不像蓓斯女王(蓓斯是伊丽莎白的简称.)在位的时候那么人口稠密,堕落得成了一个所谓"腐败的选区"(居民的选举权有名无实.议员的缺可由控制了选区的土豪出卖给别区的人.).虽然这么说,毕脱爵士却不服气.他的话说的又文雅又有道理,说道:"腐败!呸!我靠着它一年有一千五百镑的出息呢."     毕脱.克劳莱爵士的名字是跟着那了不起的下院议员威廉.毕脱取的(威廉.毕脱(Ｗｉｌｌｉａｍ　Ｐｉｔｔ,１７０８—７８),英国有名的首相.).他是第一代从男爵华尔泊尔.克劳莱的儿子.华尔泊尔爵士在乔治第二当国的时候做照例行文局的主管人员,后来因为舞弊受到弹劾......那时一大批别的诚实君子也都受到同样的遭遇.他呢,不用说,自然是约翰.丘吉尔.克劳莱的儿子了.这约翰.丘吉尔又是取的安恩女王时代有名将领的名字.在女王的克劳莱老宅里挂着他家祖先的图谱.倒溯上去,就是查理.史丢亚,后来改名为贝阿邦斯.克劳莱.这人的爸爸生在詹姆士第一的时代.最后才是伊丽莎白女王时代的克劳莱,穿了一身盔甲,留着两撇胡子,站在最前面.按照图谱的惯例,在这位老祖宗的背心里长出一棵树,各条主干上写着上面所说的各个杰出的名字.紧靠着毕脱.克劳莱爵士的名字(他是我这本回忆录里的人物),写着他弟弟别德.克劳莱牧师的名字.牧师出世的时候,了不起的下院议员威廉.毕脱已经得了不是下台了(１７６１年威廉.毕脱下台,别德勋爵(Ｅａｒｌ　ｏｆ　Ｂｕｔｅ)做首相.他们兄弟两人,都把当朝首相的姓算了名字.).这位别德.克劳莱就是克劳莱和斯耐莱两镇的教区长.此外,克劳莱家里别的男男女女也都有名字在上面.     毕脱爵士的原配名叫葛立泽儿,是蒙苟.平葛勋爵第六个女儿,所以和邓达斯先生是表亲.她生了两个儿子,大的叫毕脱;给他取这名字的用意并不是依着父亲,多半还是依着那个天神一样的首相.第二个儿子叫罗登.克劳莱,取的是乔治第四没有登基时一个朋友的名字,可怜这人已经给王上忘得干干净净了.葛立泽儿夫人死掉以后好多年,毕脱爵士又娶了墨特白莱镇上杰.道生的女儿叫罗莎的做续弦.这位太太生了两个女儿.利蓓加.夏泼就是做这两个女孩的教师.这样看来,利蓓加现在进了好人家的门,接触的都是有身分的上等人,比不得她刚刚离开的勒塞尔广场上的那家子那么低三下四了.     她已经收到通知,要她上工.通知信写在一个旧信封上,内容如下:     毕脱爵士请夏泼小姐带了"行礼"应该星期二来,因为我明天"理城"到女王的克劳莱,一早动身.     大岗脱街.     利蓓加和爱米丽亚分手以后,马车一拐弯,她就不拿手帕擦抹眼睛了,先把好心的赛特笠先生送给她的钱拿出来,数数共有多少基尼.她从来没有看见过什么从男爵,所以她把钱数清,放下手帕之后,便开始推测从男爵是个什么样子的人.她想道:"不知道他戴不戴宝星?也许只有勋爵才戴宝星.我想他一定打扮得很漂亮,穿了朝服,上面滚着皱边,头发上还洒了粉,像考文脱戏院里的罗邓先生一样.我猜他准是骄气凌人,不把我放在眼睛里.我有什么法子呢?只能逆来顺受了.不管怎么样,以后我碰见的都是世家子弟,比不得城里那起粗俗的买卖人."她想起勒塞尔广场的朋友们,心里虽然怨毒,不过倒还看得开,很像寓言里的狐狸吃不到葡萄时的心境.     马车穿过岗脱广场,转到大岗脱街,最后在一所阴森森的高房子前面停下来.这宅子两旁各有一所阴森森的高房子紧紧靠着,三所宅子每家有一块报丧板安在客厅正中的窗户外面,上面画着死者的家徽.大岗脱街是个死气沉沉的所在,附近仿佛不时有丧事,这种报丧板是常见的.在毕脱爵士公馆里,底层的百叶窗关着,只有饭间外面的略开了一些,所有的卷帘都用旧报纸整整齐齐遮盖起来.     马车夫约翰那天一个人赶车,因此不高兴走下来按铃,便央求路上的一个送牛奶小孩子帮忙.按过铃之后,饭间的两扇百叶窗缝里伸出一个头来.不久便见一个男人来开了门.他穿着灰褐色的裤子和裹腿,上面是一件又脏又旧的外衣,脖子上皮肤粗糙,扣着一条满是垢污的领巾.他咧着嘴,涎着脸,头顶又秃又亮,灰色的眼睛闪闪发光.     约翰坐在车子上问道:"这是毕脱.克劳莱爵士府上吗?"     门口的人点点头说:"是的."     约翰说:"那么把这些箱子搬下去."     看门的说:"你自己搬去."     "瞧,我不能离开我的马儿啊!来吧,好人哪,出点儿力气,小姐回头还赏你喝啤酒呢!"约翰一面说,一面粗声大气的笑.他如今对于夏泼小姐不讲规矩了,一则因为她和主人家已经没有什么关系,二则她临走没有给赏钱.     那秃子听得这么说,把手从裤袋里拉出来,走过去掮了夏泼小姐的箱子送到屋子里.     夏泼小姐说道:"请你拿着这只篮子和披肩,再给我开开车门."她气冲冲的下了车,对车夫道:"回头我写信给赛特笠先生,把你的行为告诉他."     那佣人答道:"别这么着.你没忘掉什么吧?爱米丽亚小姐的袍子本来是给她女佣人的,你现在都拿来了吧?希望你穿着合身.吉姆,关上门吧,你不会从她那儿得什么好处的,"他翘起大拇指指着夏泼小姐,"她不是个好东西.我告诉你吧,她不是个好东西."说完,赛特笠先生的车夫赶着车走了.原来他和上房女佣人相好,见利蓓加抢了女佣人的外快,心里气忿不平.     利蓓加依着那穿绑腿的人说的话,走进饭间,发现屋里生气全无.上等人家出城下乡的时候,家里总是这样,倒好像这些屋子忠心耿耿,舍不得主人离开似的.土耳其地毯把自己卷成一卷,气鼓鼓的躲在碗橱底下;一张张的画儿都把旧桑皮纸遮着脸;装在天花板上的大灯台给蒙在一个黑不溜秋的棕色布袋里;窗帘在各式各样破烂的封套里面藏了起来.华尔泊尔.克劳莱爵士的大理石半身像从暗黑的角落里低下头瞧着下面空荡荡的桌子,上过油的火钳火棒,和壁炉架上没插卡片的名片架子.酒瓶箱子缩在地毯后面;椅子都给面对面叠起来,靠墙排成一行.大理石人像对面的黑角落里,有一个老式的刀叉盒子,上了锁,恼着脸儿坐在碗盏架子上.     壁炉旁边搁了两张厨房里用的椅子,一张圆桌,还有一副用旧了的火棒和火钳.炉里的火萎靡不振,必必剥剥的响着,火上搁着一个平底锅子.桌子上有一点点乳酪和面包,一个锡做的烛台,还有一只装得下一品脱酒的酒钵,里面有薄薄一层黑颜色的浓麦酒.     "我想你吃过饭了吧?这儿太热吗?要不要喝点儿啤酒?"     夏泼小姐摆起架子问道:"毕脱.克劳莱爵士在哪儿?"     "嘻,嘻!我就是毕脱.克劳莱爵士.别忘了,我给你拿了行李,你还欠我一品脱酒呢.嘻,嘻!不信你问廷格.这是廷格太太,这是夏泼小姐.这是教员小姐,这是老妈子太太.呵,呵!"     那位名叫廷格太太的,这时进来了,手里拿着一个烟斗和一包烟草.夏泼小姐到的时候,毕脱爵士刚刚使唤她出去买烟草.这时毕脱爵士已经在火旁边坐下,她就把烟斗烟草递上去.     他问道:"廷格老太婆,还有一个法定(英国最小的铜币,值四分之一便士.)呢?我给你一个半便士.找出来的零钱在哪儿?"     廷格太太把小铜元扔下答道:"拿去!只有做从男爵的人才计算小铜子儿."     那议员接口道:"一天一个法定,一年就是七个先令.七个先令就是七个基尼一年的利息.廷格老婆子啊,你留心照看着法定,基尼就会跟着来了."     廷格太太丧声歪气的接口道:"姑娘,这就是毕脱.克劳莱爵士,没错!因为他老是留心照看着他的法定.过不了几时你就会知道他的为人."     老头儿还算客气,说道:"夏泼小姐,你决不会因此嫌我.我做人先讲公道,然后讲大器."     廷格咕哝道:"他一辈子也没白给人一个小铜子儿."     "从来不白给,以后也不白给.这不合我做人的道理.廷格,你要坐下的话就到厨房里去拿张椅子来.咱们吃点晚饭吧."     从男爵拿起叉子,从火上的锅子里叉出一条肠子和一个洋葱,分成差不多大小的两份,和廷格太太各吃一份."夏泼小姐,我不在这儿的日子,廷格吃自己的饭,我进城的日子,她就跟大伙儿一起吃.呵,呵!夏泼小姐不饿,我真高兴.你怎么说,廷格?"说着,他们便开始吃他们清苦的晚饭.          吃完饭,毕脱.克劳莱爵士抽了一袋烟,后来天黑了,他点起锡油盏里的灯草,从无底洞似的口袋里掏出一大卷纸,一面看,一面整理.     "我进城来料理官司,亲爱的,所以明天才有机会跟这么一位漂亮小姐同路做伴."     廷格太太拿起麦酒罐说道:"他老是打官司."     从男爵说道:"喝酒吧!廷格说的对,亲爱的,全英国的人,算我官司打得最多,赢得也多,输得也多.睢这儿,'从男爵克劳莱对斯耐弗尔,.我打不赢他,不叫毕脱.克劳莱!这儿是'扑特和另一个人对从男爵克劳莱,,'斯耐莱教区的监理人对从男爵克劳莱,,地是我的,他们没有凭据说它是公地,看他们敢不敢.那块地并不属于教区(十八世纪以来,大户人家常想圈进教区里的公地,当作自己产业,不许村人在上面放牛羊啃青.),就等于那块地不属于你或是廷格.我打不赢他们决不罢休,哪怕出一千基尼讼费我也愿意.亲爱的,这些全是案卷,你爱瞧只管瞧吧.你的字写得好吗?夏泼小姐,等到咱们回到女王的克劳莱以后我一定得好好的利用你.如今我们老太太死了,我需要一个帮手."     廷格说:"她跟儿子一个样儿,跟所有做买卖的都打过官司,四年里头换了四十八个听差."     从男爵很直爽的答道:"她的手紧,真紧!可是她有用,有了她,省掉我一个总管呢."他们这么亲亲密密的谈了一会儿,新到的客人听了觉得很有趣.不管毕脱.克劳莱爵士是块什么料,有什么好处,有什么毛病,他一点不想给自己遮瞒.他不断的讲自己的事,有的时候打着汉泊郡最粗俗的土话,有的时候口气又像个通晓世故的人.他叮嘱夏泼小姐第二天早上五点钟准备动身,跟她道了晚安,说道:"今儿晚上你跟着廷格睡.床很大,可以睡两个人.克劳莱太太就死在那张床上的.希望你晚上好睡."     祝福过利蓓加之后,毕脱爵士便走了.廷格一本正经,拿起油盏在前面领路,她们走上阴森森的大石级楼梯,经过客厅的好几扇很大的门,这些门上的把手都用纸包着,光景凄凉得很.最后才到了前面的大卧房,克劳莱夫人就在这间屋里咽的气.房间和床铺阴惨惨死沉沉的样子,叫人觉得非但克劳莱夫人死在这里,大致她的鬼还在房里住着呢.虽然这样,利蓓加却精神抖擞,在房里东蹦西跳,把大衣橱.壁橱,柜子,都打开来看,把锁着的抽屉一一拉过,看打得开打不开,又把梳妆用品和墙上黑黝黝的画儿细看了一遍.她做这些事的时候,那做散工的老婆子一直在祈祷.她说:"小姐,如果我良心不干净的话,我可不敢睡这张床."利蓓加答道:"床铺大得很,除了咱们两个之外还睡得下五六个鬼呢.亲爱的廷格太太,讲点儿克劳莱夫人的事给我听听,还有毕脱.克劳莱爵士的事,还有其余别的人的事."     廷格老太婆口气很紧,不肯给利蓓加盘问出什么来.她说床是给人睡觉的,不是说话的地方,说完,就打起呼噜来.除了良心干净的人,谁也不能打得这么响.利蓓加半日睡不着,想着将来,想着她的新天地,寻思自己不知可有机会出头露角.灯草的亮光摇摇不定,壁炉架掷下大大的黑影子,罩住了半幅发霉的绣片,想是死去的太太做的手工.黑影里还有两张肖像,是两个年轻后生,一个穿了学士袍,另一个穿了红色的上衣,像是当兵的.利蓓加睡觉的时候,挑中了那个兵士作为做梦的题目.     那时正是夏天,红艳艳的朝阳照得大岗脱街都有了喜气,忠心的廷格四点钟就叫醒了同床的利蓓加,催她准备动身,自己出去拔掉了大门上的门闩插销,砰砰碰碰的震得街上起了回声.她走到牛津街,雇了一辆停在那里的街车.我不用把这辆车子的号码告诉你,也不必细说赶车的为什么一早在燕子街附近等着.他无非希望有年轻的纨�谧拥艽泳频昀锘丶�,醉得站不稳脚跟,需要雇他的车子;因为喝醉的人往往肯多给几个赏钱.     赶车的如果存着这样的希望,不用说要大大的失望了.他把车子赶到城里,从男爵在车钱之外没多给一个子儿的赏钱.杰乎(《圣经.列王纪》中赶车极快的车夫.)哀求吵闹都没有用,便把夏泼小姐的好些纸盒子都扔在天鹅酒店的沟里,一面赌咒说他要告到法庭里去.     旅馆里的一个马夫说道:"还是别告好,这位就是毕脱.克劳莱爵士."     从男爵一听合了自己的意,说道:"对了,乔,我就是.如果有比我还利害的人,我倒很愿意见见."     乔恼着脸儿,咧开嘴笑了一笑说道:"我也想见见."他一面说,一面把从男爵的行李都搬到驿车顶上搁好.     议员对赶驿车的叫道:"赶车的,把你旁边的座位留给我."     车夫举起手碰碰帽子边行了个礼,回答说:"是,毕脱爵士."他心里气得直冒火,因为他已经答应把座位留给剑桥大学的一位少爷,没有毕脱爵士,一克郎的赏钱是稳稳的.夏泼小姐坐在车身里的倒座上.这辆马车可以说是即刻就要把她送到茫茫的世界上去.     剑桥大学的学生气鼓鼓的把五件大衣都搁在前头.后来夏泼小姐不得已离开了本来的座位,爬上车顶坐在他旁边,他才消了气.他拿了一件外套给利蓓加前在身上,兴致立刻来了.一个害气喘病的先生,一个满脸正气的太太,都进了车.这个女的起誓说她以前从来没有坐过公共马车,这还是有生以来第一回.在每辆驿车里似乎都有这么一位太太......唉,我该说"从前的驿车"才对,现在哪里还有这种车子呢?一个胖胖的寡妇,手里拿着一瓶白兰地酒,也上了车.搬夫来向大家要脚钱,那男的给了六便士,胖寡妇也拿出五枚油腻腻的半便士.落后车子总算开了,慢慢的穿过奥尔德门的暗巷,马蹄得得,在蓝顶的圣.保罗教堂旁边跑过.渐渐的,车行得快了,铃子叮叮当当响着,经过弗利德市场的陌生人进口.现在弗利德市场没有了,和爱克塞脱市场一样都成了陈迹.他们走过白熊旅馆.武士桥,看见公园里的露水被太阳晒成轻雾,从地上升起来;又经过泰纳草坪.白兰德福.巴克夏等地方,不必细说.本书的作者,以前也曾经走过这条路,天气也是这般晴朗,一路的形形色色也是这般新奇.回想当年,心里甜醇醇的,软靡靡的,觉得留恋.路上碰见的事情多有趣!不幸如今连这条路都找不着了.那老实的马车夫,长着一鼻子红疙瘩的老头儿,再不能上乞尔西和格林尼治了吗?这些好人儿怎么不见了呢?威勒老头儿(十九世纪英国小说家狄更斯所著《匹克威克外传》中的马车夫,他的儿子是匹克威克先生的听差.还活着吗?嗳,对了,还有旅馆里伺候穷人的茶房呢?还有那儿出卖的冷牛腿呢?还有那矮个子马夫,鼻子青里带紫,手里提着马口铁的水桶,摇得叮叮当当的响......他在哪儿呢?他同代的人物在哪儿呢?将来为读者的儿女们写小说的大天才,现在还是穿着小裙子的小不点儿(一两岁的小孩子不分男女,都穿小裙子.),将来看到我所描写的人物和事情,准觉得这些像尼尼微古城(亚述古国的京城.).狮心王(英王理查第一(Ｃｈａｒｌｅｓ　Ⅰ,１１５７—９９)以勇毅著名.).杰克.雪伯(杰克.雪伯(Ｊａｃｋ　Ｓｈｅｐｐａｒｄ,１７０２—２４),著名的大盗,曾经越狱好多次,后来被判绞刑处死,英国作家笛福.爱因斯窝斯等都曾用他的一生为题材写过书.)一般,成了历史和传说.在他们看来,驿车已经染上了传奇的色彩,拉车子那四匹栗色马儿也和别赛法勒斯(相传是亚历山大大帝的名马,它的头像牛头.)和黑蓓斯(十八世纪初叶有个著名的大盗叫里却.德平.小说家爱因斯窝斯曾把他的一生写成小说,叫《鲁克窝德》,在这本小说里,德平骑的马叫黑蓓斯.)一样,变成神话里的马儿了.啊!回想到这些马儿,马夫把它们遮身的马衣拿掉,就见它们一身毛带着汗珠儿晶晶的发亮;跑过一站之后,它们乖乖的走到客栈的大院子里去,身上汗气腾腾的,尾巴一左一右的拂着.唉!如今再也听不见号角在半夜里呜呜的吹,再也看不见路上关卡的栅栏门豁然大开.话又说回来了,这辆轻巧的.四匹马拉的特拉法尔加马车(特拉法尔加(Ｔｒａｆａｌｇａｒ)是西班牙的海角,１８０５年英国纳尔逊大将(Ｎｅｌｓ－ｏｎ)在此大打胜仗,伦敦的特拉法尔加广场,以及这种邮车,都是为纪念这次胜利而得名的.)究竟带着咱们上什么地方呢?别再多说了,不如就在女王的克劳莱镇上下车,瞧瞧利蓓加.夏泼小姐在这个地方有什么遭遇.

CHAPTER VIII Private and Confidential Miss Rebecca Sharp to Miss Amelia Sedley, Russell Square, London. (Free.--Pitt Crawley.) MY DEAREST, SWEETEST AMELIA, With what mingled joy and sorrow do I take up the pen to write to my dearest friend! Oh, what a change between to-day and yesterday! Now I am friendless and alone; yesterday I was at home, in the sweet company of a sister, whom I shall ever, ever cherish! I will not tell you in what tears and sadness I passed the fatal night in which I separated from you. YOU went on Tuesday to joy and happiness, with your mother and YOUR DEVOTED YOUNG SOLDIER by your side; and I thought of you all night, dancing at the Perkins's, the prettiest, I am sure, of all the young ladies at the Ball. I was brought by the groom in the old carriage to Sir Pitt Crawley's town house, where, after John the groom had behaved most rudely and insolently to me (alas! 'twas safe to insult poverty and misfortune!), I was given over to Sir P.'s care, and made to pass the night in an old gloomy bed, and by the side of a horrid gloomy old charwoman, who keeps the house. I did not sleep one single wink the whole night. Sir Pitt is not what we silly girls, when we used to read Cecilia at Chiswick, imagined a baronet must have been. Anything, indeed, less like Lord Orville cannot be imagined. Fancy an old, stumpy, short, vulgar, and very dirty man, in old clothes and shabby old gaiters, who smokes a horrid pipe, and cooks his own horrid supper in a saucepan. He speaks with a country accent, and swore a great deal at the old charwoman, at the hackney coachman who drove us to the inn where the coach went from, and on which I made the journey OUTSIDE FOR THE GREATER PART OF THE WAY. I was awakened at daybreak by the charwoman, and having arrived at the inn, was at first placed inside the coach. But, when we got to a place called Leakington, where the rain began to fall very heavily--will you believe it?--I was forced to come outside; for Sir Pitt is a proprietor of the coach, and as a passenger came at Mudbury, who wanted an inside place, I was obliged to go outside in the rain, where, however, a young gentleman from Cambridge College sheltered me very kindly in one of his several great coats. This gentleman and the guard seemed to know Sir Pitt very well, and laughed at him a great deal. They both agreed in calling him an old screw; which means a very stingy, avaricious person. He never gives any money to anybody, they said (and this meanness I hate); and the young gentleman made me remark that we drove very slow for the last two stages on the road, because Sir Pitt was on the box, and because he is proprietor of the horses for this part of the journey. "But won't I flog 'em on to Squashmore, when I take the ribbons?" said the young Cantab. "And sarve 'em right, Master Jack," said the guard. When I comprehended the meaning of this phrase, and that Master Jack intended to drive the rest of the way, and revenge himself on Sir Pitt's horses, of course I laughed too. A carriage and four splendid horses, covered with armorial bearings, however, awaited us at Mudbury, four miles from Queen's Crawley, and we made our entrance to the baronet's park in state. There is a fine avenue of a mile long leading to the house, and the woman at the lodge-gate (over the pillars of which are a serpent and a dove, the supporters of the Crawley arms), made us a number of curtsies as she flung open the old iron carved doors, which are something like those at odious Chiswick. "There's an avenue," said Sir Pitt, "a mile long. There's six thousand pound of timber in them there trees. Do you call that nothing?" He pronounced avenue--EVENUE, and nothing--NOTHINK, so droll; and he had a Mr. Hodson, his hind from Mudbury, into the carriage with him, and they talked about distraining, and selling up, and draining and subsoiling, and a great deal about tenants and farming--much more than I could understand. Sam Miles had been caught poaching, and Peter Bailey had gone to the workhouse at last. "Serve him right," said Sir Pitt; "him and his family has been cheating me on that farm these hundred and fifty years." Some old tenant, I suppose, who could not pay his rent. Sir Pitt might have said "he and his family," to be sure; but rich baronets do not need to be careful about grammar, as poor governesses must be. As we passed, I remarked a beautiful church-spire rising above some old elms in the park; and before them, in the midst of a lawn, and some outhouses, an old red house with tall chimneys covered with ivy, and the windows shining in the sun. "Is that your church, sir?" I said. "Yes, hang it," (said Sir Pitt, only he used, dear, A MUCH WICKEDER WORD); "how's Buty, Hodson? Buty's my brother Bute, my dear--my brother the parson. Buty and the Beast I call him, ha, ha!" Hodson laughed too, and then looking more grave and nodding his head, said, "I'm afraid he's better, Sir Pitt. He was out on his pony yesterday, looking at our corn." "Looking after his tithes, hang'un (only he used the same wicked word). Will brandy and water never kill him? He's as tough as old whatdyecallum--old Methusalem." Mr. Hodson laughed again. "The young men is home from college. They've whopped John Scroggins till he's well nigh dead." "Whop my second keeper!" roared out Sir Pitt. "He was on the parson's ground, sir," replied Mr. Hodson; and Sir Pitt in a fury swore that if he ever caught 'em poaching on his ground, he'd transport 'em, by the lord he would. However, he said, "I've sold the presentation of the living, Hodson; none of that breed shall get it, I war'nt"; and Mr. Hodson said he was quite right: and I have no doubt from this that the two brothers are at variance--as brothers often are, and sisters too. Don't you remember the two Miss Scratchleys at Chiswick, how they used always to fight and quarrel--and Mary Box, how she was always thumping Louisa? Presently, seeing two little boys gathering sticks in the wood, Mr. Hodson jumped out of the carriage, at Sir Pitt's order, and rushed upon them with his whip. "Pitch into 'em, Hodson," roared the baronet; "flog their little souls out, and bring 'em up to the house, the vagabonds; I'll commit 'em as sure as my name's Pitt." And presently we heard Mr. Hodson's whip cracking on the shoulders of the poor little blubbering wretches, and Sir Pitt, seeing that the malefactors were in custody, drove on to the hall. All the servants were ready to meet us, and . . . Here, my dear, I was interrupted last night by a dreadful thumping at my door: and who do you think it was? Sir Pitt Crawley in his night-cap and dressing-gown, such a figure! As I shrank away from such a visitor, he came forward and seized my candle. "No candles after eleven o'clock, Miss Becky," said he. "Go to bed in the dark, you pretty little hussy" (that is what he called me), "and unless you wish me to come for the candle every night, mind and be in bed at eleven." And with this, he and Mr. Horrocks the butler went off laughing. You may be sure I shall not encourage any more of their visits. They let loose two immense bloodhounds at night, which all last night were yelling and howling at the moon. "I call the dog Gorer," said Sir Pitt; "he's killed a man that dog has, and is master of a bull, and the mother I used to call Flora; but now I calls her Aroarer, for she's too old to bite. Haw, haw!" Before the house of Queen's Crawley, which is an odious old- fashioned red brick mansion, with tall chimneys and gables of the style of Queen Bess, there is a terrace flanked by the family dove and serpent, and on which the great hall-door opens. And oh, my dear, the great hall I am sure is as big and as glum as the great hall in the dear castle of Udolpho. It has a large fireplace, in which we might put half Miss Pinkerton's school, and the grate is big enough to roast an ox at the very least. Round the room hang I don't know how many generations of Crawleys, some with beards and ruffs, some with huge wigs and toes turned out, some dressed in long straight stays and gowns that look as stiff as towers, and some with long ringlets, and oh, my dear! scarcely any stays at all. At one end of the hall is the great staircase all in black oak, as dismal as may be, and on either side are tall doors with stags' heads over them, leading to the billiard-room and the library, and the great yellow saloon and the morning-rooms. I think there are at least twenty bedrooms on the first floor; one of them has the bed in which Queen Elizabeth slept; and I have been taken by my new pupils through all these fine apartments this morning. They are not rendered less gloomy, I promise you, by having the shutters always shut; and there is scarce one of the apartments, but when the light was let into it, I expected to see a ghost in the room. We have a schoolroom on the second floor, with my bedroom leading into it on one side, and that of the young ladies on the other. Then there are Mr. Pitt's apartments--Mr. Crawley, he is called--the eldest son, and Mr. Rawdon Crawley's rooms--he is an officer like SOMEBODY, and away with his regiment. There is no want of room I assure you. You might lodge all the people in Russell Square in the house, I think, and have space to spare. Half an hour after our arrival, the great dinner-bell was rung, and I came down with my two pupils (they are very thin insignificant little chits of ten and eight years old). I came down in your dear muslin gown (about which that odious Mrs. Pinner was so rude, because you gave it me); for I am to be treated as one of the family, except on company days, when the young ladies and I are to dine upstairs. Well, the great dinner-bell rang, and we all assembled in the little drawing-room where my Lady Crawley sits. She is the second Lady Crawley, and mother of the young ladies. She was an ironmonger's daughter, and her marriage was thought a great match. She looks as if she had been handsome once, and her eyes are always weeping for the loss of her beauty. She is pale and meagre and high-shouldered, and has not a word to say for herself, evidently. Her stepson Mr. Crawley, was likewise in the room. He was in full dress, as pompous as an undertaker. He is pale, thin, ugly, silent; he has thin legs, no chest, hay-coloured whiskers, and straw-coloured hair. He is the very picture of his sainted mother over the mantelpiece--Griselda of the noble house of Binkie. "This is the new governess, Mr. Crawley," said Lady Crawley, coming forward and taking my hand. "Miss Sharp." "O!" said Mr. Crawley, and pushed his head once forward and began again to read a great pamphlet with which he was busy. "I hope you will be kind to my girls," said Lady Crawley, with her pink eyes always full of tears. "Law, Ma, of course she will," said the eldest: and I saw at a glance that I need not be afraid of THAT woman. "My lady is served," says the butler in black, in an immense white shirt-frill, that looked as if it had been one of the Queen Elizabeth's ruffs depicted in the hall; and so, taking Mr. Crawley's arm, she led the way to the dining-room, whither I followed with my little pupils in each hand. Sir Pitt was already in the room with a silver jug. He had just been to the cellar, and was in full dress too; that is, he had taken his gaiters off, and showed his little dumpy legs in black worsted stockings. The sideboard was covered with glistening old plate--old cups, both gold and silver; old salvers and cruet-stands, like Rundell and Bridge's shop. Everything on the table was in silver too, and two footmen, with red hair and canary-coloured liveries, stood on either side of the sideboard. Mr. Crawley said a long grace, and Sir Pitt said amen, and the great silver dish-covers were removed. "What have we for dinner, Betsy?' said the Baronet. "Mutton broth, I believe, Sir Pitt," answered Lady Crawley. "Mouton aux navets," added the butler gravely (pronounce, if you please, moutongonavvy); "and the soup is potage de mouton a l'Ecossaise. The side-dishes contain pommes de terre au naturel, and choufleur a l'eau." "Mutton's mutton," said the Baronet, "and a devilish good thing. What SHIP was it, Horrocks, and when did you kill?" "One of the black-faced Scotch, Sir Pitt: we killed on Thursday. "Who took any?" "Steel, of Mudbury, took the saddle and two legs, Sir Pitt; but he says the last was too young and confounded woolly, Sir Pitt." "Will you take some potage, Miss ah--Miss Blunt? said Mr. Crawley. "Capital Scotch broth, my dear," said Sir Pitt, "though they call it by a French name." "I believe it is the custom, sir, in decent society," said Mr. Crawley, haughtily, "to call the dish as I have called it"; and it was served to us on silver soup plates by the footmen in the canary coats, with the mouton aux navets. Then "ale and water" were brought, and served to us young ladies in wine- glasses. I am not a judge of ale, but I can say with a clear conscience I prefer water. While we were enjoying our repast, Sir Pitt took occasion to ask what had become of the shoulders of the mutton. "I believe they were eaten in the servants' hall," said my lady, humbly. "They was, my lady," said Horrocks, "and precious little else we get there neither." Sir Pitt burst into a horse-laugh, and continued his conversation with Mr. Horrocks. "That there little black pig of the Kent sow's breed must be uncommon fat now." "It's not quite busting, Sir Pitt," said the butler with the gravest air, at which Sir Pitt, and with him the young ladies, this time, began to laugh violently. "Miss Crawley, Miss Rose Crawley," said Mr. Crawley, "your laughter strikes me as being exceedingly out of place." "Never mind, my lord," said the Baronet, "we'll try the porker on Saturday. Kill un on Saturday morning, John Horrocks. Miss Sharp adores pork, don't you, Miss Sharp?" And I think this is all the conversation that I remember at dinner. When the repast was concluded a jug of hot water was placed before Sir Pitt, with a case-bottle containing, I believe, rum. Mr. Horrocks served myself and my pupils with three little glasses of wine, and a bumper was poured out for my lady. When we retired, she took from her work-drawer an enormous interminable piece of knitting; the young ladies began to play at cribbage with a dirty pack of cards. We had but one candle lighted, but it was in a magnificent old silver candlestick, and after a very few questions from my lady, I had my choice of amusement between a volume of sermons, and a pamphlet on the corn-laws, which Mr. Crawley had been reading before dinner. So we sat for an hour until steps were heard. "Put away the cards, girls," cried my lady, in a great tremor; "put down Mr. Crawley's books, Miss Sharp"; and these orders had been scarcely obeyed, when Mr. Crawley entered the room. "We will resume yesterday's discourse, young ladies," said he, "and you shall each read a page by turns; so that Miss a--Miss Short may have an opportunity of hearing you"; and the poor girls began to spell a long dismal sermon delivered at Bethesda Chapel, Liverpool, on behalf of the mission for the Chickasaw Indians. Was it not a charming evening? At ten the servants were told to call Sir Pitt and the household to prayers. Sir Pitt came in first, very much flushed, and rather unsteady in his gait; and after him the butler, the canaries, Mr. Crawley's man, three other men, smelling very much of the stable, and four women, one of whom, I remarked, was very much overdressed, and who flung me a look of great scorn as she plumped down on her knees. After Mr. Crawley had done haranguing and expounding, we received our candles, and then we went to bed; and then I was disturbed in my writing, as I have described to my dearest sweetest Amelia. Good night. A thousand, thousand, thousand kisses! Saturday.--This morning, at five, I heard the shrieking of the little black pig. Rose and Violet introduced me to it yesterday; and to the stables, and to the kennel, and to the gardener, who was picking fruit to send to market, and from whom they begged hard a bunch of hot-house grapes; but he said that Sir Pitt had numbered every "Man Jack" of them, and it would be as much as his place was worth to give any away. The darling girls caught a colt in a paddock, and asked me if I would ride, and began to ride themselves, when the groom, coming with horrid oaths, drove them away. Lady Crawley is always knitting the worsted. Sir Pitt is always tipsy, every night; and, I believe, sits with Horrocks, the butler. Mr. Crawley always reads sermons in the evening, and in the morning is locked up in his study, or else rides to Mudbury, on county business, or to Squashmore, where he preaches, on Wednesdays and Fridays, to the tenants there. A hundred thousand grateful loves to your dear papa and mamma. Is your poor brother recovered of his rack-punch? Oh, dear! Oh, dear! How men should beware of wicked punch! Ever and ever thine own REBECCA Everything considered, I think it is quite as well for our dear Amelia Sedley, in Russell Square, that Miss Sharp and she are parted. Rebecca is a droll funny creature, to be sure; and those descriptions of the poor lady weeping for the loss of her beauty, and the gentleman "with hay-coloured whiskers and straw-coloured hair," are very smart, doubtless, and show a great knowledge of the world. That she might, when on her knees, have been thinking of something better than Miss Horrocks's ribbons, has possibly struck both of us. But my kind reader will please to remember that this history has "Vanity Fair" for a title, and that Vanity Fair is a very vain, wicked, foolish place, full of all sorts of humbugs and falsenesses and pretensions. And while the moralist, who is holding forth on the cover ( an accurate portrait of your humble servant), professes to wear neither gown nor bands, but only the very same long-eared livery in which his congregation is arrayed: yet, look you, one is bound to speak the truth as far as one knows it, whether one mounts a cap and bells or a shovel hat; and a deal of disagreeable matter must come out in the course of such an undertaking. I have heard a brother of the story-telling trade, at Naples, preaching to a pack of good-for-nothing honest lazy fellows by the sea-shore, work himself up into such a rage and passion with some of the villains whose wicked deeds he was describing and inventing, that the audience could not resist it; and they and the poet together would burst out into a roar of oaths and execrations against the fictitious monster of the tale, so that the hat went round, and the bajocchi tumbled into it, in the midst of a perfect storm of sympathy. At the little Paris theatres, on the other hand, you will not only hear the people yelling out "Ah gredin! Ah monstre:" and cursing the tyrant of the play from the boxes; but the actors themselves positively refuse to play the wicked parts, such as those of infames Anglais, brutal Cossacks, and what not, and prefer to appear at a smaller salary, in their real characters as loyal Frenchmen. I set the two stories one against the other, so that you may see that it is not from mere mercenary motives that the present performer is desirous to show up and trounce his villains; but because he has a sincere hatred of them, which he cannot keep down, and which must find a vent in suitable abuse and bad language. I warn my "kyind friends," then, that I am going to tell a story of harrowing villainy and complicated--but, as I trust, intensely interesting--crime. My rascals are no milk-and-water rascals, I promise you. When we come to the proper places we won't spare fine language--No, no! But when we are going over the quiet country we must perforce be calm. A tempest in a slop-basin is absurd. We will reserve that sort of thing for the mighty ocean and the lonely midnight. The present Chapter is very mild. Others--But we will not anticipate THOSE. And, as we bring our characters forward, I will ask leave, as a man and a brother, not only to introduce them, but occasionally to step down from the platform, and talk about them: if they are good and kindly, to love them and shake them by the hand: if they are silly, to laugh at them confidentially in the reader's sleeve: if they are wicked and heartless, to abuse them in the strongest terms which politeness admits of. Otherwise you might fancy it was I who was sneering at the practice of devotion, which Miss Sharp finds so ridiculous; that it was I who laughed good-humouredly at the reeling old Silenus of a baronet-- whereas the laughter comes from one who has no reverence except for prosperity, and no eye for anything beyond success. Such people there are living and flourishing in the world--Faithless, Hopeless, Charityless: let us have at them, dear friends, with might and main. Some there are, and very successful too, mere quacks and fools: and it was to combat and expose such as those, no doubt, that Laughter was made. 第 八 章    秘 密 的 私 信     这封信是利蓓加.夏泼小姐写到伦敬勒塞尔广场给爱米丽亚.赛特笠小姐的:     (免费—毕脱.克劳莱)(毕脱爵士是国会议员,信札可以由运输机关免费代送.)     最亲爱最宝贝的爱米丽亚:     当我提起笔来跟我最亲爱的朋友写信的时候,心头真是悲喜交集.从昨天到今天的变动多大呀!今天我无奈无友孤孤单单的,昨天我还在家里,有可爱的妹妹伴着我.我永远不变的爱我的妹妹!     我跟你分别的那天晚上,那凄凉的晚上,我伤心落泪的情况,也不必再说了.你在欢笑中度过了星期二,有你的妈妈和你忠心的年轻军官在你身边.我呢,整夜想着你在潘金家里跳舞的情形.我知道你准是跳舞会里最美丽的姑娘.那天我坐了马车先到毕脱.克劳莱爵士伦敦的公馆里,马车夫约翰对我非常的无礼.唉,侮辱了穷苦和落薄的人是不打紧的!这样我就算到了毕脱爵士手里,由他来照顾了.他叫我在一张阴气森森的床上睡了一夜,和我同床的是个阴阳怪气的.讨厌的老太婆.她是做散工的,兼管屋子,我一夜到天明没有阖眼.     咱们这些傻女孩子,在契息克读《茜茜利亚》(十八世纪英国女作家法尼.勃尼(Ｆａｎｎｙ　Ｂｕｒｎｅｙ)的小说.)的时候,老是想像从男爵该是什么样子.毕脱爵士可不是那么一回事儿.说实话,谁也不能比他离着奥维尔勋爵(勃尼另一作品《爱佛丽娜》中的男主角.)更远了.他是个又粗又矮又脏又俗气的老头儿,穿一身旧衣服,一副破烂的裹腿,抽一支臭烟斗,还会在煎锅里面煮他自己吃的臭晚饭.他一口乡下土话,老是冲着做散工的老妈子赌咒,又冲着赶车的发誓.我们先坐街车到客店里,驿车就从那儿出发.一路上我大半的时候都坐在露天.     天一亮,老妈子就把我叫醒.到了客店上车,起头儿倒坐在车身里面的,可是到了一个叫里金顿的地方,雨渐渐下得大了,我反而给赶到车顶上去,你信不信?原来毕脱爵士是驿车老板,因此到了墨特白莱,一个乘客要坐在车身里面,我就只能出来让他,在雨里淋着.幸而有一个剑桥大学的学生带了好几件大衣.他为人很好,借给我一件大衣挡雨.     这位先生跟车上的护卫兵似乎认识毕脱爵士,两个人一直取笑他.他们笑他,管他叫"老剥皮",这意思就是说他吝啬和贪心.据说他从来不肯白给人家一个子儿.我最恨这种小气的行为.那位先生提醒我,说是最后两站,车子跑得特别慢.原来这两站路上用的马匹是毕脱爵士的,他自己又坐在车夫旁边,所以车子赶得慢了.剑桥的学生说:"马缰到了我手里,我可要把它们好好鞭一顿,一直鞭到斯阔希莫."护卫兵说:"活该!杰克少爷."后来我懂他们的意思了.杰克少爷准备亲自赶车,在毕脱爵士的马身上出出气,我当然也笑起来.     离女王的克劳莱镇四哩的地方叫墨特白莱,一辆套着四匹骏马的马车,上面漆了他家的纹章,就在那儿等候我们.我们就挺威风的走进从男爵的园地.从大门到住宅之间有一条整洁的甬道,大概有一哩长.大门那儿有好多柱子,顶上塑着一条蛇和一只鸽子,一边一个把克劳莱的纹章合抱起来.看门的女人把一重重的铁门打开,跟我们行了好多屈膝礼.这些镂花的铁门很像契息克学校的大门.可恨的契息克!     毕脱爵士说:"这条甬道有一哩长.这些树斫下来有六千磅重的木材呢.你能小看它吗?"他的口音真滑稽.一个叫霍特生先生的人,是他在墨特白莱的佣工,跟我们一起坐了车回家.他们两人谈了好多事,像扣押财产,卖田地,掘底土,排积水等等,还有许多关于佃户和种作方面的话,我听了也不大懂.譬如山姆.马尔斯偷捉野味,给逮住了;彼德.贝莱终于进了老人堂了.毕脱爵士听了说:"活该!这一百五十年来,他跟他家里的人老是耍花样骗人."我猜这人准是个付不起租税的老佃户.毕脱爵士的口气实在应该再文雅点儿.可是有钱的从男爵用错了字眼是没关系的,穷教师才得留心呢.     我们一路走去,看见教堂的尖顶在园里的老橡树里面高高耸起,美丽极了.在橡树前面的草坪中心,有一所红砖砌的旧房子,烟囱很高,墙上爬满了常春藤,窗户在阳光里发亮.房子四围附着几所小屋.我问道:"先生,这是您的教堂吧?"     "哼,对了!"毕脱爵士还用了一个非常下流的字,他说:"霍特生,别谪怎么了?亲爱的,别谪也就是我弟弟别德......那个当牧师的弟弟.我说他一半是别谪一半是野兽(指童话《美人与兽》,美人(Ｂｅａｕｔｙ)和别谪(Ｂｕｔｙ)同音.),哈,哈!"     霍特生听了也笑起来,然后正色点点头说:"看来他身体好些了,毕脱爵士.昨天他骑着小马,出来瞧咱们的玉米来着."     "他在留神照看他教堂里抽的税呢,哼!"(这儿他又用了那下流的字眼.)"他喝了那么些对水的白兰地酒,怎么还不死呢?他竟和《圣经》里那个什么玛土撒拉(《圣经.创世记》中的老人,活了九百六十多岁.)老头儿一样结实."     霍特生又笑起来,说道:"他的儿子们从大学里回来了.他们把约翰.斯格洛琴打得半死."     毕脱爵士怒声嚷道:"他们把我的看守猎场的打了吗?"     霍特生答道:"他跑到牧师的田地上去了,老爷."毕脱爵士怒气冲冲,赌神罚誓的说,如果他发现弟弟家里的人在他地上偷野味,他就把他们从区里赶出去.皇天在上,非把他们赶走不可!他又说:"反正我已经把牧师的位子卖掉了.保证叫他家的小畜生得不到这差使."霍特生先生夸他做得对.从这些话看来,这两个兄弟准是冤家对头.兄弟们往往是这样的,姊妹们也不是例外.你记得在契息克,那两个斯格拉区莱小姐一天到晚拌嘴打架.还有玛丽.博克斯呢,老是打鲁意莎.     后来我们看见两个男孩子在树林里捡枯枝儿.毕脱爵士一声命令,霍特生就跳起身来,一手拿着鞭子,下了马车直冲过去.从男爵大声喝道:"霍特生,重重的打!打死他们!把这两个小流氓带到我家里来,我不把他们关在监牢里不叫毕脱!"不久我们听见霍特生的鞭子啪啪的打在那两个小可怜儿身上,打得他们哀哀的哭叫.毕脱爵士眼看着犯法的人给看管了起来,才赶着车进去,一直到大厅前面停下来.     所有的佣人都等着迎接我们,后来     昨天晚上写到这里,听得房门上砰砰打的一片响,只得停笔.你猜是谁在打门?哪知道就是毕脱.克劳莱爵士自己,穿了梳妆衣,戴了睡帽,那样子真古怪.我一看见这样的来客,不由得往后倒退.他跑上来抢了我的蜡烛道:"蓓基小姐,过了十一点不许点蜡烛了.在黑地里上床去吧,你这漂亮的小丫头"(他就那么称呼我),"你要是不爱叫我天天跑来收蜡烛,记住,十一点上床!"说了这话,他和那佣人头儿叫霍洛克斯的,打着哈哈走掉了.以后我当然得小心不让他们再来.他们一到晚上就放出两条硕大无朋的猎狗来.昨天晚上这两条狗整夜对着月亮狂吠乱叫.毕脱爵士说:"这条狗我叫它喝血儿.它杀过一个人呢,这狗!公牛都斗不过它的.它母亲本来叫'花花,,如今我叫它'哇哇,,因为它太老了,不会咬,只会叫.呵,呵!"     女王的克劳莱大厦是一所怪难看的旧式红砖大房子,高高的烟囱,上层的三角楼全是蓓斯女王时代的款式.屋子前面有个大阳台,顶上也塑着世袭的蛇和鸽子,进门就是大厅.啊,亲爱的,厅堂又大又阴,大概和"尤道尔福"(十八世纪末叶盛行神怪小说,所谓兰特克立夫派(Ｒａｄｃｌｉｆｆｅ　Ｓｃｈｏｏｌ)《尤道尔福古堡的秘密》是兰特克立夫太太的作品之一.)堡里的大厅差不多.厅里有个大壁炉,大得容得下平克顿女校一半的学生.壁炉里的铁架子上至少可以烤一只整牛.大厅墙上挂了克劳莱家里不知多少代的祖宗的画像.有些留着胡子,戴着皱领;有些两脚八字排开,戴了大得不得了的假头发;有些穿了长长的紧身衣,外面的袍子硬绷绷的,看上去像一座塔;还有些披着长长的鬈发,而身上呢,嗳哟哟,压根儿没穿紧身!大厅尽头就是黑橡木的大楼梯,那阴森森的样子你想都想不出.厅的两边都是高大的门,通到弹子房.书房.黄色大客厅和上午动用的几间起坐间.每扇门上面的墙上都装了鹿头标本.我想二楼上少说也有二十来间卧房,其中一间里面还搁着伊丽莎白女王睡过的床.今天早上我的两个新学生带着我把这些精致的房间都看过了.房里的百叶窗常年关着,更显得凄凉.无论哪间屋里,只要你让亮光透进去,保管看得见鬼.我们的课堂在三楼,夹在我的卧房和学生的卧房中间;三间都是相通的.再过去就是这家的大爷毕脱先生的一套房间.在这儿大家称他克劳莱先生.还有就是罗登.克劳莱先生的几间.他跟某人一样,也是个军官,现在在军队里.这里地方真大;我想如果把勒塞尔广场一家都搬过来,只怕还住不满呢.     我们到了半个钟点之后,下面就打铃催大家吃饭了.我跟两个学生一块儿下去.她们两个一个十岁,一个八岁,都是瘦骨伶仃的小不点儿.我穿了你的漂亮的纱袍子(平纳因为你把衣服给了我,对我很无礼).我在这里算他们自己人,跟大伙儿一起吃饭,只有请客的日子才带着两个女孩子在楼上吃.     我刚才说到他们打了大铃催吃饭,我们就都聚集在克劳莱夫人起坐的小客厅里.克劳莱夫人是填房,也是我学生的母亲.她的爸爸是铁器商人.她家攀了这门亲事,当然很得意.看上去她从前相当的漂亮,现在她总是一包眼泪,痛惜她一去不返的美貌.她身材瘦小,脸色苍白,耸肩膀,似乎见了人无话可说.前妻的儿子克劳莱先生也在,整整齐齐的穿着全套礼服,那架子倒很像办丧事的.这人寡言罕语,又瘦又难看,一张青白脸皮.他一双腿很瘦,胸脯窄小,脸上是干草色的胡子,头上是麦秆色的头发,恰巧和壁炉架上他那去世的妈妈的相片一模一样.他妈妈就是尊贵的平葛家里的葛立泽儿小姐.     克劳莱夫人上前拉了我的手说:"克劳莱先生,这位是新来的先生."     克劳莱先生把头伸了一伸说:"哦!"说完,又忙着看他的大册子.     克劳莱夫人红镶边眼睛里老是眼泪汪汪的.她说:"我希望你对我的两个女孩儿别太利害."     大的孩子说道:"唷,妈,她当然不会太利害."我一眼就知道不用怕这个女人.     佣人头儿进来说:"太太,开饭了."他穿了黑衣服,胸口的白皱边大得要命,很像大厅里画儿上伊丽莎白式的皱领.克劳莱夫人扶着克劳莱先生领路到饭厅,我一手牵了一个学生,跟在后面.     毕脱爵士拿着一个银酒瓯,已经先到了.他刚从酒窖里上来,也穿了礼服.所谓礼服,就是说他脱了绑腿,让他的一双穿了黑毛袜的小短腿露在外面.食品柜子里搁满了发光的旧式杯盘,有金的,也有银的,还有旧式的小盆子和五味架,像伦特尔和白立治饭馆里的一样.桌子上动用的刀叉碗盏也都是银的.两个红头发的听差,穿了淡黄的号衣,在食器柜子旁边一面一个站好.     克劳莱先生做了个长长的祷告,毕脱爵士说了阿门,盆子上的大银罩子便拿开了.     从男爵说:"蓓翠,今天咱们吃什么?"     克劳莱夫人答道:"毕脱爵士,大概是羊肉汤吧?"     管酒的板着正经脸说:"今天吃Ｍｏｕｔｏｎ　ａｕｘ　ｎａｖｅｔｓ,"(他读的很像"木头窝囊废")"汤是ｐｏｔａｇｅ　ｄｅ　ｍｏｕｔｏｎ　ａ　ｌ,Ｅｃｏｓ－ｓａｉｓｅ,外加ｐｏｍｍｅ　ｄｅ　ｔｅｒｒｅ　ａｕ　ｎａｔｕｒｅｌ和ｃｈｏｕｆｌｅｕｒ　à　ｌ,－ｅａｕ."(法国是著名讲究饭菜的国家,因此用法文菜名,显得名贵,实际上吃的菜不过是羊肉萝卜,苏格兰式羊肉汤,添的菜是白煮马铃薯和菜花.)     从男爵说道:"羊肉究竟是羊肉,了不起的好东西.霍洛克斯,你宰的是哪一头羊?什么时候宰的?"     "那黑脸的苏格兰羊,毕脱爵士.我们星期四宰的."     "有谁买羊肉没有?"     "墨特白莱地方的斯梯尔买了一只大腿和两只小腿,毕脱爵士.他说小腿太嫩,毛又多得不像样,毕脱爵士."     克劳莱先生说:"喝点儿ｐｏｔａｇｅ,呃......白伦脱小姐(夏泼(Ｓｈａｒｐ)是尖锐的意思,白伦脱(Ｂｌｕｎｔ)是钝的意思.克劳莱先生记性不好,记了个相反的意思.)."     毕脱爵士道:"括括叫的苏格兰浓汤,亲爱的,虽然用的是法国名字."     克劳莱先生目无下尘的答道:"在上等社会里,我想我用的名词是合乎惯例的."穿淡黄号衣的听差用银盆盛了汤送上来,跟羊肉萝卜一起吃.然后又有对水的麦酒.我们年轻女的都用小酒杯喝.我不懂麦酒的好坏,可是凭良心说,我倒愿意喝白开水.     我们吃饭的时候,毕脱爵士问起下剩的羊肉到哪里去了.     克劳莱夫人低声下气的说道:"我想下房里的佣人吃掉了."     霍洛克斯回道:"没错,太太,除了这个我们也没吃到什么别的."     毕脱爵士听了,哈哈的笑起来,接着和霍洛克斯谈话:"坎脱母猪生的那只小黑猪该是很肥了吧?"     管理的一本正经回答道:"毕脱爵士,它还没肥得胀破了皮."毕脱爵士和两个小姐听了都笑得前仰后合.     克劳莱先生说:"克劳莱小姐,露丝.克劳莱小姐,我认为你们笑得非常不合时宜."     从男爵答道:"没关系的,大爷!我们星期六吃猪肉.约翰.霍洛克斯,星期六早上宰猪得了.夏泼小姐最爱吃猪肉.是不是,夏泼小姐?"     吃饭时的谈话,我只记得这么些.饭后听差端上一壶热开水,还有一瓶大概是甜酒,都搁在毕脱爵士面前.霍洛克斯先生给我和两个学生一人斟了一小杯酒,给克劳莱夫人斟了一大盏.饭后休息的时候,克劳莱夫人拿出绒线活计来做,是一大块一直可以织下去的东西.两个小姑娘拿出一副肮脏的纸牌玩叶子戏.我们只点了一支蜡烛,不过蜡台倒是美丽的旧银器.克劳莱夫人稍微问了我几个问题就完了.屋里可以给我消遣的书籍只有一本教堂里宣讲的训戒和一本克劳莱先生吃饭以前看的册子.     我们这样坐了一个钟头,后来听得脚步声走近来了,克劳莱夫人马上慌慌张张的说道:"孩子,把纸牌藏起来.夏泼小姐,把克劳莱先生的书放下来."我们刚刚收拾好,克劳莱先生就进来了.他说:"小姐们,今天咱们还是继续读昨天的演说.你们轮流一人念一页,让......呃......夏泼小姐有机会听听你们读书."书里面有一篇是在利物浦白泰斯达教堂里劝募的演说,鼓励大家出力帮助在西印度群岛契各索地方的传教团.这两个可怜的孩子就把这篇又长又沉闷的演说一字一顿的念着.你想我们一黄昏过的多有趣!     到了十点钟,克劳莱使唤听差去叫毕脱爵士和全家上下都来做晚祷.毕脱爵士先进来,脸上红扑扑的,脚步也不大稳.跟着进来是佣人头儿,穿淡黄号衣的听差,克劳莱先生的贴身佣人,三个有马房味儿的男佣人,四个女佣人;其中一个打扮得花花哨哨的,跪下的时候对我瞅一眼,一脸都是瞧不起的样子.     克劳莱先生哇啦哇啦讲了一番大道理之后,我们领了蜡烛,回房睡觉.后来我在写信.给打断了.这话我已经跟我最亲爱最宝贝的爱米丽亚说过了.     再见!我给你一千个.一万个.一亿个亲吻!     星期六......今天早上五点钟我听见小黑猪的尖叫.露丝和凡奥兰昨天领我去看过它.我们又看了马房和养狗场.后来我们瞧见花匠正在采果子,准备送到市场上去卖.孩子们苦苦的求他给一串暖房里培养的葡萄,可是花匠说毕脱爵士一串串都数过了,他送掉一串,准会丢了饭碗.两个宝贝孩子在小围场里捉住一匹小马,问我要不要骑.她们刚在骑着玩呢.马夫走来,咒着骂着把她们赶了出来.     克劳莱夫人老是织毛线.毕脱爵士每晚都喝得酒气醺醺.我猜他一定常常跟那佣人头儿霍洛克斯在一起聊天.克劳莱先生天天晚上读那几篇训戒,早上锁在书房里,有的时候也为区里的公事骑马到墨特白莱去.每逢星期三,他又到斯阔希莫去对佃户们讲道.     请代我向你亲爱的爸爸妈妈请安,向他们致一千一万个谢意.你可怜的哥哥还在闹酒吗?嗳呀呀!害人的五味酒是喝不得的啊!     永远是你的好朋友　利蓓加          为咱们勒塞尔广场的爱米丽亚着想,倒还是跟利蓓加.夏泼分开了好些.利蓓加不用说是诙谐风趣的人物.她描写克劳莱夫人为她一去不返的美貌而流泪,克劳莱先生长着干草色的胡子和麦秆色的头发,口角非常俏皮,显得她见过世面,知道社会上的形形色色.可是我们不免要这样想,她跪下祷告的时候,为何不想些比较崇高的心思,反而去注意霍洛克斯小姐身上的缎带呢?请忠厚读者务必记住.这本书的名字是《名利场》;"名利场"当然是个穷凶极恶.崇尚浮华,而且非常无聊的地方,到处是虚伪欺诈,还有各式各样的骗子.本书封面上画着一个道德家在说教(当年《名利场》的封面设计.)(活是我的相貌!)他不穿教士的长袍,也不带白领子,只穿了制服,打扮得和台下听讲的众生一个样儿.可是不管你是戴小帽挂小铃儿的小丑,还是戴了宽边帽子的教士,知道了事情的真相总得直说不讳.这样一来,写书的时候少不得要暴露许多不愉快的事实.     我在那波里碰见一个人,也是以说故事为生的同行.他在海滩上对着一群好吃懒做的老实人讲道,讲到好些坏人坏事,一面演说,一面造谣言,那么淋漓尽致,到后来自己也怒不可遏.他的听众大受感动,跟着那演讲的诗人恶声咒骂那根本不存在的混蛋,纷纷捐出钱来投在演讲员的帽子里,表示对受害者热诚的同情.     在巴黎的小戏院里,戏里的恶霸一露脸,看戏的就在台下叫骂:"啊,混蛋!啊,恶棍!"非但看戏的这样,连演戏的也不愿意扮演坏人,例如混帐的英国人.残暴的哥萨克人之流,宁可少拿些薪水,以自己的本来面目出现,演一个忠诚的法国人.我把这两个故事互相陪衬,目的是要使你明白,我惩罚恶人,叫他们现出本相,并不是出于自私的动机,而且因为我痛恨他们的罪恶已经到了无可忍受的程度,只能恶毒毒的把该骂的痛骂一番,借此发泄发泄.     我先警告仁慈的朋友们,在我这故事里面,坏人的好恶折磨得你难受,犯的罪行也非常复杂,幸而说来倒是非常有趣的.这些恶人可不是脆弱无能的脓包.到该骂该说的地方,我出言决不留情,决不含糊!目前我们只写平淡的乡村生活,口气当然得和缓些儿,譬如风潮猛烈的景色,只能发生在大海岸上,在孤寂的半夜,那才合适;想在脏水盆里掀起大波,不免透着可笑.这一章书的确很平淡,底下的可不是这样......这些话我暂时不说了.     读者啊,我先以男子汉的身分,以兄弟的身分,求你准许,当每个角色露脸的时候,我非但一个个介绍,说不定还要走下讲坛,议论议论他们的短长,如果他们忠厚好心,我就爱他们,和他们拉手.如果他们做事糊涂,我就跟你背地里偷偷的笑.如果他们刁恶没有心肝,我就用最恶毒的话唾骂他们,只要骂得不伤体统就是了.     如果我事先不说清楚,只怕你要误会.譬如说,利蓓加瞧着别人祷告的习惯觉得可笑,你可能以为是我的讽刺.或者你想我瞧着从男爵醉得像酒神巴克斯的干爹沙里纳斯那么跌跌撞撞的走来,不过很随和的一笑.其实那真笑的人品性是怎么样的呢?她崇拜权势,只以成败论人.这等没信仰.没希望.没仁爱的坏家伙,在这世界上却一帆风顺.亲爱的朋友们,咱们应该全力和他们斗争.还有些别的人,或是江湖上的骗子,或是糊涂蛋,倒也过得很得意.他们的短处,咱们也该暴露和唾骂,这是讽刺小说家的本分.

CHAPTER IX Family Portraits Sir Pitt Crawley was a philosopher with a taste for what is called low life. His first marriage with the daughter of the noble Binkie had been made under the auspices of his parents; and as he often told Lady Crawley in her lifetime she was such a confounded quarrelsome high-bred jade that when she died he was hanged if he would ever take another of her sort, at her ladyship's demise he kept his promise, and selected for a second wife Miss Rose Dawson, daughter of Mr. John Thomas Dawson, ironmonger, of Mudbury. What a happy woman was Rose to be my Lady Crawley! Let us set down the items of her happiness. In the first place, she gave up Peter Butt, a young man who kept company with her, and in consequence of his disappointment in love, took to smuggling, poaching, and a thousand other bad courses. Then she quarrelled, as in duty bound, with all the friends and intimates of her youth, who, of course, could not be received by my Lady at Queen's Crawley--nor did she find in her new rank and abode any persons who were willing to welcome her. Who ever did? Sir Huddleston Fuddleston had three daughters who all hoped to be Lady Crawley. Sir Giles Wapshot's family were insulted that one of the Wapshot girls had not the preference in the marriage, and the remaining baronets of the county were indignant at their comrade's misalliance. Never mind the commoners, whom we will leave to grumble anonymously. Sir Pitt did not care, as he said, a brass farden for any one of them. He had his pretty Rose, and what more need a man require than to please himself? So he used to get drunk every night: to beat his pretty Rose sometimes: to leave her in Hampshire when he went to London for the parliamentary session, without a single friend in the wide world. Even Mrs. Bute Crawley, the Rector's wife, refused to visit her, as she said she would never give the pas to a tradesman's daughter. As the only endowments with which Nature had gifted Lady Crawley were those of pink cheeks and a white skin, and as she had no sort of character, nor talents, nor opinions, nor occupations, nor amusements, nor that vigour of soul and ferocity of temper which often falls to the lot of entirely foolish women, her hold upon Sir Pitt's affections was not very great. Her roses faded out of her cheeks, and the pretty freshness left her figure after the birth of a couple of children, and she became a mere machine in her husband's house of no more use than the late Lady Crawley's grand piano. Being a light-complexioned woman, she wore light clothes, as most blondes will, and appeared, in preference, in draggled sea-green, or slatternly sky-blue. She worked that worsted day and night, or other pieces like it. She had counterpanes in the course of a few years to all the beds in Crawley. She had a small flower-garden, for which she had rather an affection; but beyond this no other like or disliking. When her husband was rude to her she was apathetic: whenever he struck her she cried. She had not character enough to take to drinking, and moaned about, slipshod and in curl-papers all day. O Vanity Fair--Vanity Fair! This might have been, but for you, a cheery lass--Peter Butt and Rose a happy man and wife, in a snug farm, with a hearty family; and an honest portion of pleasures, cares, hopes and struggles--but a title and a coach and four are toys more precious than happiness in Vanity Fair: and if Harry the Eighth or Bluebeard were alive now, and wanted a tenth wife, do you suppose he could not get the prettiest girl that shall be presented this season? The languid dulness of their mamma did not, as it may be supposed, awaken much affection in her little daughters, but they were very happy in the servants' hall and in the stables; and the Scotch gardener having luckily a good wife and some good children, they got a little wholesome society and instruction in his lodge, which was the only education bestowed upon them until Miss Sharp came. Her engagement was owing to the remonstrances of Mr. Pitt Crawley, the only friend or protector Lady Crawley ever had, and the only person, besides her children, for whom she entertained a little feeble attachment. Mr. Pitt took after the noble Binkies, from whom he was descended, and was a very polite and proper gentleman. When he grew to man's estate, and came back from Christchurch, he began to reform the slackened discipline of the hall, in spite of his father, who stood in awe of him. He was a man of such rigid refinement, that he would have starved rather than have dined without a white neckcloth. Once, when just from college, and when Horrocks the butler brought him a letter without placing it previously on a tray, he gave that domestic a look, and administered to him a speech so cutting, that Horrocks ever after trembled before him; the whole household bowed to him: Lady Crawley's curl-papers came off earlier when he was at home: Sir Pitt's muddy gaiters disappeared; and if that incorrigible old man still adhered to other old habits, he never fuddled himself with rum-and-water in his son's presence, and only talked to his servants in a very reserved and polite manner; and those persons remarked that Sir Pitt never swore at Lady Crawley while his son was in the room. It was he who taught the butler to say, "My lady is served," and who insisted on handing her ladyship in to dinner. He seldom spoke to her, but when he did it was with the most powerful respect; and he never let her quit the apartment without rising in the most stately manner to open the door, and making an elegant bow at her egress. At Eton he was called Miss Crawley; and there, I am sorry to say, his younger brother Rawdon used to lick him violently. But though his parts were not brilliant, he made up for his lack of talent by meritorious industry, and was never known, during eight years at school, to be subject to that punishment which it is generally thought none but a cherub can escape. At college his career was of course highly creditable. And here he prepared himself for public life, into which he was to be introduced by the patronage of his grandfather, Lord Binkie, by studying the ancient and modern orators with great assiduity, and by speaking unceasingly at the debating societies. But though he had a fine flux of words, and delivered his little voice with great pomposity and pleasure to himself, and never advanced any sentiment or opinion which was not perfectly trite and stale, and supported by a Latin quotation; yet he failed somehow, in spite of a mediocrity which ought to have insured any man a success. He did not even get the prize poem, which all his friends said he was sure of. After leaving college he became Private Secretary to Lord Binkie, and was then appointed Attache to the Legation at Pumpernickel, which post he filled with perfect honour, and brought home despatches, consisting of Strasburg pie, to the Foreign Minister of the day. After remaining ten years Attache (several years after the lamented Lord Binkie's demise), and finding the advancement slow, he at length gave up the diplomatic service in some disgust, and began to turn country gentleman. He wrote a pamphlet on Malt on returning to England (for he was an ambitious man, and always liked to be before the public), and took a strong part in the Negro Emancipation question. Then he became a friend of Mr. Wilberforce's, whose politics he admired, and had that famous correspondence with the Reverend Silas Hornblower, on the Ashantee Mission. He was in London, if not for the Parliament session, at least in May, for the religious meetings. In the country he was a magistrate, and an active visitor and speaker among those destitute of religious instruction. He was said to be paying his addresses to Lady Jane Sheepshanks, Lord Southdown's third daughter, and whose sister, Lady Emily, wrote those sweet tracts, "The Sailor's True Binnacle," and "The Applewoman of Finchley Common." Miss Sharp's accounts of his employment at Queen's Crawley were not caricatures. He subjected the servants there to the devotional exercises before mentioned, in which (and so much the better) he brought his father to join. He patronised an Independent meeting- house in Crawley parish, much to the indignation of his uncle the Rector, and to the consequent delight of Sir Pitt, who was induced to go himself once or twice, which occasioned some violent sermons at Crawley parish church, directed point-blank at the Baronet's old Gothic pew there. Honest Sir Pitt, however, did not feel the force of these discourses, as he always took his nap during sermon-time. Mr. Crawley was very earnest, for the good of the nation and of the Christian world, that the old gentleman should yield him up his place in Parliament; but this the elder constantly refused to do. Both were of course too prudent to give up the fifteen hundred a year which was brought in by the second seat (at this period filled by Mr. Quadroon, with carte blanche on the Slave question); indeed the family estate was much embarrassed, and the income drawn from the borough was of great use to the house of Queen's Crawley. It had never recovered the heavy fine imposed upon Walpole Crawley, first baronet, for peculation in the Tape and Sealing Wax Office. Sir Walpole was a jolly fellow, eager to seize and to spend money (alieni appetens, sui profusus, as Mr. Crawley would remark with a sigh), and in his day beloved by all the county for the constant drunkenness and hospitality which was maintained at Queen's Crawley. The cellars were filled with burgundy then, the kennels with hounds, and the stables with gallant hunters; now, such horses as Queen's Crawley possessed went to plough, or ran in the Trafalgar Coach; and it was with a team of these very horses, on an off-day, that Miss Sharp was brought to the Hall; for boor as he was, Sir Pitt was a stickler for his dignity while at home, and seldom drove out but with four horses, and though he dined off boiled mutton, had always three footmen to serve it. If mere parsimony could have made a man rich, Sir Pitt Crawley might have become very wealthy--if he had been an attorney in a country town, with no capital but his brains, it is very possible that he would have turned them to good account, and might have achieved for himself a very considerable influence and competency. But he was unluckily endowed with a good name and a large though encumbered estate, both of which went rather to injure than to advance him. He had a taste for law, which cost him many thousands yearly; and being a great deal too clever to be robbed, as he said, by any single agent, allowed his affairs to be mismanaged by a dozen, whom he all equally mistrusted. He was such a sharp landlord, that he could hardly find any but bankrupt tenants; and such a close farmer, as to grudge almost the seed to the ground, whereupon revengeful Nature grudged him the crops which she granted to more liberal husbandmen. He speculated in every possible way; he worked mines; bought canal- shares; horsed coaches; took government contracts, and was the busiest man and magistrate of his county. As he would not pay honest agents at his granite quarry, he had the satisfaction of finding that four overseers ran away, and took fortunes with them to America. For want of proper precautions, his coal-mines filled with water: the government flung his contract of damaged beef upon his hands: and for his coach-horses, every mail proprietor in the kingdom knew that he lost more horses than any man in the country, from underfeeding and buying cheap. In disposition he was sociable, and far from being proud; nay, he rather preferred the society of a farmer or a horse-dealer to that of a gentleman, like my lord, his son: he was fond of drink, of swearing, of joking with the farmers' daughters: he was never known to give away a shilling or to do a good action, but was of a pleasant, sly, laughing mood, and would cut his joke and drink his glass with a tenant and sell him up the next day; or have his laugh with the poacher he was transporting with equal good humour. His politeness for the fair sex has already been hinted at by Miss Rebecca Sharp--in a word, the whole baronetage, peerage, commonage of England, did not contain a more cunning, mean, selfish, foolish, disreputable old man. That blood- red hand of Sir Pitt Crawley's would be in anybody's pocket except his own; and it is with grief and pain, that, as admirers of the British aristocracy, we find ourselves obliged to admit the existence of so many ill qualities in a person whose name is in Debrett. One great cause why Mr. Crawley had such a hold over the affections of his father, resulted from money arrangements. The Baronet owed his son a sum of money out of the jointure of his mother, which he did not find it convenient to pay; indeed he had an almost invincible repugnance to paying anybody, and could only be brought by force to discharge his debts. Miss Sharp calculated (for she became, as we shall hear speedily, inducted into most of the secrets of the family) that the mere payment of his creditors cost the honourable Baronet several hundreds yearly; but this was a delight he could not forego; he had a savage pleasure in making the poor wretches wait, and in shifting from court to court and from term to term the period of satisfaction. What's the good of being in Parliament, he said, if you must pay your debts? Hence, indeed, his position as a senator was not a little useful to him. Vanity Fair--Vanity Fair! Here was a man, who could not spell, and did not care to read--who had the habits and the cunning of a boor: whose aim in life was pettifogging: who never had a taste, or emotion, or enjoyment, but what was sordid and foul; and yet he had rank, and honours, and power, somehow: and was a dignitary of the land, and a pillar of the state. He was high sheriff, and rode in a golden coach. Great ministers and statesmen courted him; and in Vanity Fair he had a higher place than the most brilliant genius or spotless virtue. Sir Pitt had an unmarried half-sister who inherited her mother's large fortune, and though the Baronet proposed to borrow this money of her on mortgage, Miss Crawley declined the offer, and preferred the security of the funds. She had signified, however, her intention of leaving her inheritance between Sir Pitt's second son and the family at the Rectory, and had once or twice paid the debts of Rawdon Crawley in his career at college and in the army. Miss Crawley was, in consequence, an object of great respect when she came to Queen's Crawley, for she had a balance at her banker's which would have made her beloved anywhere. What a dignity it gives an old lady, that balance at the banker's! How tenderly we look at her faults if she is a relative (and may every reader have a score of such), what a kind good-natured old creature we find her! How the junior partner of Hobbs and Dobbs leads her smiling to the carriage with the lozenge upon it, and the fat wheezy coachman! How, when she comes to pay us a visit, we generally find an opportunity to let our friends know her station in the world! We say (and with perfect truth) I wish I had Miss MacWhirter's signature to a cheque for five thousand pounds. She wouldn't miss it, says your wife. She is my aunt, say you, in an easy careless way, when your friend asks if Miss MacWhirter is any relative. Your wife is perpetually sending her little testimonies of affection, your little girls work endless worsted baskets, cushions, and footstools for her. What a good fire there is in her room when she comes to pay you a visit, although your wife laces her stays without one! The house during her stay assumes a festive, neat, warm, jovial, snug appearance not visible at other seasons. You yourself, dear sir, forget to go to sleep after dinner, and find yourself all of a sudden (though you invariably lose) very fond of a rubber. What good dinners you have--game every day, Malmsey- Madeira, and no end of fish from London. Even the servants in the kitchen share in the general prosperity; and, somehow, during the stay of Miss MacWhirter's fat coachman, the beer is grown much stronger, and the consumption of tea and sugar in the nursery (where her maid takes her meals) is not regarded in the least. Is it so, or is it not so? I appeal to the middle classes. Ah, gracious powers! I wish you would send me an old aunt--a maiden aunt--an aunt with a lozenge on her carriage, and a front of light coffee-coloured hair--how my children should work workbags for her, and my Julia and I would make her comfortable! Sweet--sweet vision! Foolish--foolish dream! 第 九 章     克劳莱一家的写照毕 脱.克 劳莱爵士为人豁达,喜欢所谓下层阶级的生活.他第一次结婚的时候,奉父母之命娶了一位贵族小姐,是平葛家里的女儿.克劳莱夫人活着的时候,他就常常当面说她是个讨人嫌的婆子,礼数又足,嘴巴子又碎;并且说等她死了之后,死也不愿意再娶这么一个老婆了.他说到做到;妻子去世以后,他就挑了墨特白莱铁器商人约翰.汤姆士.道生的女儿露丝.道生做填房.露丝真是好福气,居然做了克劳莱爵士夫人.     咱们且来算算她福气何在.第一,她和本来的朋友彼德.勃脱断绝了关系.这小伙子失恋伤心,从此干些走私.偷野味和其他许许多多不好的勾当.第二,她和小时候的朋友和熟人一个个都吵翻了;这好像是她的责任,因为这些人是没有资格给请到女王的克劳莱大厦来作客的.同时新环境里和她地位相等的人又不高兴理她.谁高兴呢?赫特尔斯顿.弗特尔斯顿爵士有三个女儿都想做克劳莱夫人.杰尔斯.活泊夏脱爵士全家的人也因为本家的姑娘没有当选而觉得丢面子.区里其余的从男爵认为同伴玷辱了门楣,大家气不愤.至于没有头衔的人呢,不必提名道姓,让他们唠叨去吧.     毕脱爵士一点不在乎,正是他说的,他瞧着这些人一个小钱也不值.他娶了漂亮的露丝,得意得很,别的全不在心上.因此他每晚喝得醉醺醺,有时揍揍他那漂亮的露丝,每逢上伦敦到国会开会的时候,把她孤身一人扔在汉泊郡.可怜她连一个朋友也没有,连牧师夫人别德.克劳莱太太也因为她是买卖人家的女儿,不愿意去拜会她.     克劳莱夫人最高的天赋是她的白皮肤和红喷喷的脸蛋儿.她没有才干,没有主见,性格又软弱,不但不会做事,而且也不会寻欢作乐.有些蠢得一窍不通的女人往往脾气暴,精力足,她连这点儿能耐都没有,所以不大抓得住丈夫的心.她的红颜渐渐消褪,生过两个孩子之后,身段也不像以前那么苗条好看,到末了只成了丈夫家里的一架机器,和死去的克劳莱夫人的横丝大钢琴一般是多余的废物.她和所有黄头发蓝眼睛的女人一样,因为皮色白,总爱浅颜色的衣服,拖拖拉拉,不整不齐的穿着水绿天蓝的袍儿褂儿.她一天到晚织绒线,或是做类似的活计.几年之内,克劳莱大厦里所有的床上都添了新床毯了.她辟了一个小花园;这花园她很有些喜欢,除此以外也就说不上什么爱憎.丈夫开口骂她,她木头木脑;丈夫伸手打她,她就哭.她连喝酒解愁的勇气都没有,只是成天趿拉着鞋,头发包在卷发纸条儿里,唧唧啾啾的过日子.唉,名利场!名利场!要不是你,她也许可以过得很乐意.彼德.勃脱和露丝可能是很好的一对儿,带着一家快快乐乐的孩子住在舒服的小屋里,享受自己份内的福气,担当自己份内的烦难,纵然辛苦,却也有希望.可是在我们的名利场上,一个头衔,一辆四匹马拉的马车,比一身的幸福还重要呢.如果亨利第八(英王亨利第八(Ｈｅｎｒｙ　Ⅷ,１５０９—４７),伊丽莎白女王的父亲,曾娶过六个妻子.)和蓝胡子现在还活着,要娶第十个太太,还怕娶不着本年初进交际场的最美丽的小姐吗?     做妈妈的无精打采,痴痴�茗�,两个女儿当然不怎么爱她.女孩儿们倒是在马厩和下房里得到不少快活.好在那苏格兰花匠的妻子儿女都很好,因此她们两个在他家里学得一些规矩,交的伴侣也像样.夏泼小姐到这里来以前,她们的教育不过如此.     利蓓加怎么会给请去的呢?那全是克劳莱先生力争的结果.全家只他一个人关心克劳莱爵士夫人,时常保护她.她呢,除了自己的孩子之外,就是对他还稍微有一点儿感情.毕脱先生究竟是尊贵的平葛的后代,所以像外婆家的人一样,是个守礼的君子.他成年之后,从牛津耶稣堂大学毕业回家,便着手整顿下房松懈的纪律.他父亲虽然反对,他也不理会,何况他父亲见他也有些怕.他的规矩真大,宁可饿死,不换上干净的白领巾是决不肯吃饭的.有一回,他刚从大学回家,佣人头儿霍洛克斯递给他一封信,可是没有把信用托盘托到他面前,他对那佣人瞅了一眼,把他责备了一顿,眼光那么锋利,说话那么严厉,霍洛克斯从此看见他战战兢兢.全家的人没有不服他的.只要他在家,克劳莱夫人的卷发纸条儿早早拿掉了;毕脱爵士的泥污的绑腿也脱去了.不长进的老头儿虽然仍旧保持其余的老习惯,在儿子面前从来不敢尽着喝甜酒喝得烂醉;跟佣人说话的时候,态度也变得很文雅,很检点.大家看得出,只要儿子在屋里,毕脱爵士向来不咒骂妻子.     克劳莱先生教导佣人头儿每逢吃饭以前报一声"太太,开饭了".他再三要扶着克劳莱夫人进饭厅.他不大和她说话,不过开口的时候总是必恭必敬.每逢她离开房间的时候,一定要正正经经站起来给她开门,很文雅的躬着身子送她出去.     他在伊顿中学读书的时候,大家叫他克劳莱小姐,而且......我说出来不好意思......常挨他弟弟罗登毒打.他虽然不聪明,可是非常用功,这样就把短处补救过来,实在是值得称赞的.在学校读书的八年里头,他从来没有给老师打过屁股.普通说起来,只有天使才躲得过这种处罚(天使是没有屁股的,十九世纪英国散文家兰姆(Ｌａｍｂ)在《母校回忆录》一文中就曾提到"只有头部和翅膀的小天使".).     在大学里,他的作为当然非常叫人敬重.他有外公平葛勋爵提携,可以在官场里找事,因此他事先准备,努力不懈的攻读古今演说家的讲稿,又不断的在各个辩论社里演说.他可以滔滔不绝的讲好些文话儿,他那小声音演说起来也很神气活现,他自己听着十分得意.他的见解感情没一样不是陈腐的老套,而且最爱引经据典的掉拉丁文.按理说,他这样的庸才,正该发迹才是,可是不知怎么,只是不得意.他写了诗投到校刊上,所有的朋友都说他准会得奖,结果也落了空.     大学毕业之后,他当了平葛勋爵的私人秘书,后来又做本浦聂格尔(是个虚构的小公国.原文Ｐｕｍｐｅｒｎｉｃｋｅｌ本是德文字,是黑麦面包的意思.)领事馆的参赞,成绩非常出众.回国的时候,带给当时的外交部长好些斯德拉斯堡出产的鹅肝馅儿的饼.当了十年参赞之后(那时平葛勋爵已经死了好几年),他觉得升官的机会很少,不高兴当外交官了,辞了职回到乡下做寓公.     回国以后,他写了一本关于麦芽的小册子,并且竭力在解放黑奴的问题上发表了许多主张,因为他本性要强,喜欢有点儿名气.他佩服威尔勃福斯先生的政见(威尔勃福斯(ＷｉｌｌｉａｍＷｉｌｂｅｒｆｏｒｃｅ,１７５９—１８３２),竭力主张解放黑奴的英国政治家.),跟他交了朋友.他和沙勒斯.霍恩泊洛牧师讨论亚香低传教团的问题,来往的信札是有名的.他虽然不到国会去开会,可是每逢五月,一定到伦敦去开宗教会议.在本乡,他算判事,常常去拜访那些听不见教理的乡下人,按时给他们讲道.据说他正在追求莎吴塞唐勋爵的三女儿吉恩.希伯香克斯小姐.这位姑娘的姐姐爱密莲小姐,曾经写过好几本动人的传教小册子,像《水手的罗盘箱》和《芬却莱广场的洗衣妇》.     夏泼小姐描写他在克劳莱大厦的工作,倒并没有夸张过度.前面已经说过,他命令全家的佣人参加晚祷,而且再三请父亲同去,倒是有益的事情.克劳莱教区里有一个独立教徒的派别受他照顾,常到他们会堂里去讲道,使他那做牧师的叔叔大不受用.毕脱爵士因为这缘故高兴得了不得,甚至于听了儿子的话去参加过一两次集会.为这件事牧师在克劳莱教堂讲道的时候恶毒地攻击他,直指着他那哥德式的包座痛骂.这些有力的演说对于老实的毕脱爵士并没有影响,因为讲道的时候他照例在打瞌睡.     克劳莱先生为国家着想,为文明世界里的人着想,急煎煎的希望老头儿把国会议员的位子让给他,可是老的不愿意.另外一个代表的位子,目前由一位阔特隆先生占去了,关于黑奴问题,他有任意发言的全权.卖掉了这位子一年可以多一千五百镑的进账.父子两个对银钱看得很重,不肯放弃这笔收入.不瞒你说,庄地上的经济拮据得很,这笔钱在女王的克劳莱很可以一用了.     第一代从男爵华尔泊尔.克劳莱在照例行文局舞弊之后,罚掉一大笔钱,至今没有发还,华尔泊尔爵士兴致很高,爱捞钱,也爱花钱.克劳莱先生掉着拉丁文说他"贪求别人的,浪费自己的"(罗马历史家萨勒斯特(Ｓａｌｌｕｓｔ)所著《卡的琳传》一书第五节中描写卡的琳的话.),说着便叹气.华尔泊尔爵士活着的时候,女王的克劳莱大厦里常常酒天酒地的请客,因此他在区里人缘很好.他的酒窖里满是勃根第酒,养狗场上有猎狗,马房里有好马.现在女王的克劳莱所有的马不是用来耕田,便去拉脱拉法尔格驿车.夏泼小姐坐了到乡下来的车子,正是这队马拉的,那天它们恰巧不下地,所以有空.毕脱爵士虽然是个老粗,在本乡很讲究规矩,普通出门总要四匹马拉车子.他吃的不过是煮羊肉,可是非要三个当差的伺候着不可.     如果一个人一毛不拔就能够有钱,毕脱爵士一定成了大财主.如果他是乡镇上的穷律师,除了自己的本事之外什么资本都没有,他也许能够好好利用自己的聪明,锻炼成一个有能力的人,渐渐爬上有权有势的地位.不幸他家世太好,庄地虽大,却欠着许多债,对他都是有害无利的.他自以为精明,不肯把事务全部委托给一个账房,免得上当,所以同时用了十来个账房,而这些人他一个都不相信,结果事情办得一团糟.他是个刻薄的地主,在他手下的佃户,差不多没有一个不是一贫如洗.种地的时候,他吝啬得舍不得多下种子,哪知天地造化也爱报复,只把好收成给器量大的农夫,毕脱爵士田地上从来得不到好收成.投机的事情,他一件都不错过:开矿,买运河股票,把马匹供给驿车站,替政府包工.在他区里,他算得上最忙的人,最忙的官.他采办花岗石,不肯多出钱请规规矩矩的工头,结果有四个工头卷了一大笔钱溜到美国去了.他的煤矿没有正常的设备,被水淹没了.他卖给政府的牛肉是坏的,政府便把合同掷还给他.至于他的马匹呢,全国的驿车老板都知道他损失的马匹比什么人都多,因为他贪便宜买有毛病的马,又不给它们吃饱.     他的脾气很随和,全无虚骄之气.说实话,他宁可跟种地的卖马的在一块儿混,不喜欢和他儿子一般的大老爷上等人打交道.他爱喝酒,爱赌神罚誓,爱跟乡下大姑娘说笑话.他一毛不拔,向来不肯做善事,不过嘻嘻哈哈,有些小聪明,人是很有趣的.他今天跟佃户嘻嘻哈哈一块儿喝酒,明天就能出卖他;把偷野味的小贼驱逐出境以前,也能拿出同样的诙谐和犯事的人一起说笑.在夏泼小姐说的话里面,我们看得出他对于女人很客气.总而言之,英国所有的从男爵里面,所有的贵族和平民里面,再也找不出比他更狡猾.卑鄙.自私.糊涂.下流的老头儿了.毕脱.克劳莱爵士血红的手(红手是从男爵的纹章.)在随便什么人的口袋里都想捞一把,只有他自己的口袋是不能碰的.说来伤心,我们虽然佩服英国的贵族,可是不得不承认,毕脱爵士的名字虽然在特白莱脱的贵族名册里,却的确有那么许多短处.     克劳莱先生能够叫他爸爸喜欢,多半是经济上的关系.从男爵欠他儿子一笔钱;这钱原是克劳莱先生由母亲那里得来的遗产,如果要还的话,对从男爵不很方便.他最怕花钱付账,对于这件事真是深恶痛绝.如果没有人强逼他,他是再也不肯还债的.夏泼替他计算下来(我们过些时候就会知道,这家子的秘密她已经知道了一大半了),只是为躲债,从男爵一年就得花好几百镑讼费.他认为这是无上趣事,不肯割舍.他叫那些可怜的债主等了又等,法庭一个个的换,案子一期期的拖,该付的钱总不拿出来,他就感觉得一种恶意的快乐.他说,进了国会还得付债还做什么议员呢(按照英国１７７０年施行的法律,法庭可以传审国会议员,但是不能逮捕或监禁他们.)?这样看来,他这议员的资格对他用处着实不小.     好个名利场!我们且看这个人,他别字连篇,不肯读书,行为举止又没有调教,只有村野人那股子刁猾.他一辈子的志向就是包揽诉讼,小小的干些骗人的勾当.他的趣味.感情.好尚,没有一样不是卑鄙龌龊,然而他有爵位,有名气,有势力,尊荣显贵,算得上国家的栋梁.他是地方上的官长,出入坐了金色的马车.大官儿.大政治家,还要对他献殷勤.在名利场上,他比天才和圣人的地位还高呢.     毕脱爵士有个同父异母的姐姐,她承受了她母亲的一大笔财产,至今是单身.从男爵想问她借钱,愿意把房产抵押给她,可是她宁可安稳拿着公债,回绝了这项交易.她答应死后把财产分成两份,一半给毕脱爵士的小儿子,一半给牧师家的孩子.有一两回,罗登.克劳莱在大学里和军队里欠下了债,全靠克劳莱小姐拿出钱来了事.所以她到女王的克劳莱来作客,大家都尊敬她.她在银行里的存款,足够使她到处受欢迎了.     随便什么老太太,银行里有了存款,也就有了身分.如果她是我们的亲戚(我祝祷每个读者都有二十来个这样的亲戚!),我们准会宽恕她的短处,觉得她心肠又软,脾气又好.郝伯斯和陶伯斯律师事务所里的年轻律师准会笑咪咪的扶着她上马车......她的马车上画着斜方形的纹章,车夫是害气喘病的胖子.她来玩儿的时候,你总是找机会让朋友们知道她的地位.你说:"可惜不能叫麦克活脱小姐给我签一张五千镑的支票!"你这话真不错.你太太接口道:"她反正不在乎这几个钱."你的朋友问你说:"麦克活脱小姐是你家亲戚吗?"你做出满不在乎的样子回答道:"是我姨妈."你的太太不时送些小东西给她,表示亲热.你的女儿不停的为她做绒线刺绣的椅垫.篮子和脚凳罩子.她一来,你就在她卧房里生着暖熊熊的火,而你的太太却只能在没火的冷屋子里穿紧身.她住着的时候,你家里收拾得整整齐齐,又舒服,又暖和,一家人都兴致勃发,仿佛在过节.这种空气,在平常是少有的.至于你自己呢,亲爱的先生,饭后也忘了打瞌睡,而且忽然爱玩起纸牌来了,虽然每次打牌你总是输钱.你们吃得多讲究!天天有野味,有西班牙白酒,又不时的到伦敦去定鲜鱼.因为大家享福,连厨房里的佣人也托赖着沾了光.不知怎的,麦克活脱小姐的胖子马车夫住着的时候,啤酒比往常浓了好些;在孩子的房间里(她的贴身女佣人一天三餐在那儿吃),用去的糖和茶叶也没人计较.我说的对不对呢?不信可以让中等阶级的人帮我说话.哎,老天哪!求你也赏给我一个有年纪的姨妈或是姑妈,没结婚的,马车上有斜方块儿的,头上戴着淡咖啡色的假刘海的;那么我的孩子也能为她做针线袋,我和我的朱丽亚也能把她伺候得舒舒服服.这梦想多么美丽,多么荒唐!

CHAPTER X Miss Sharp Begins to Make Friends And now, being received as a member of the amiable family whose portraits we have sketched in the foregoing pages, it became naturally Rebecca's duty to make herself, as she said, agreeable to her benefactors, and to gain their confidence to the utmost of her power. Who can but admire this quality of gratitude in an unprotected orphan; and, if there entered some degree of selfishness into her calculations, who can say but that her prudence was perfectly justifiable? "I am alone in the world," said the friendless girl. "I have nothing to look for but what my own labour can bring me; and while that little pink-faced chit Amelia, with not half my sense, has ten thousand pounds and an establishment secure, poor Rebecca (and my figure is far better than hers) has only herself and her own wits to trust to. Well, let us see if my wits cannot provide me with an honourable maintenance, and if some day or the other I cannot show Miss Amelia my real superiority over her. Not that I dislike poor Amelia: who can dislike such a harmless, good-natured creature?--only it will be a fine day when I can take my place above her in the world, as why, indeed, should I not?" Thus it was that our little romantic friend formed visions of the future for herself--nor must we be scandalised that, in all her castles in the air, a husband was the principal inhabitant. Of what else have young ladies to think, but husbands? Of what else do their dear mammas think? "I must be my own mamma," said Rebecca; not without a tingling consciousness of defeat, as she thought over her little misadventure with Jos Sedley. So she wisely determined to render her position with the Queen's Crawley family comfortable and secure, and to this end resolved to make friends of every one around her who could at all interfere with her comfort. As my Lady Crawley was not one of these personages, and a woman, moreover, so indolent and void of character as not to be of the least consequence in her own house, Rebecca soon found that it was not at all necessary to cultivate her good will--indeed, impossible to gain it. She used to talk to her pupils about their "poor mamma"; and, though she treated that lady with every demonstration of cool respect, it was to the rest of the family that she wisely directed the chief part of her attentions. With the young people, whose applause she thoroughly gained, her method was pretty simple. She did not pester their young brains with too much learning, but, on the contrary, let them have their own way in regard to educating themselves; for what instruction is more effectual than self-instruction? The eldest was rather fond of books, and as there was in the old library at Queen's Crawley a considerable provision of works of light literature of the last century, both in the French and English languages (they had been purchased by the Secretary of the Tape and Sealing Wax Office at the period of his disgrace), and as nobody ever troubled the book- shelves but herself, Rebecca was enabled agreeably, and, as it were, in playing, to impart a great deal of instruction to Miss Rose Crawley. She and Miss Rose thus read together many delightful French and English works, among which may be mentioned those of the learned Dr. Smollett, of the ingenious Mr. Henry Fielding, of the graceful and fantastic Monsieur Crebillon the younger, whom our immortal poet Gray so much admired, and of the universal Monsieur de Voltaire. Once, when Mr. Crawley asked what the young people were reading, the governess replied "Smollett." "Oh, Smollett," said Mr. Crawley, quite satisfied. "His history is more dull, but by no means so dangerous as that of Mr. Hume. It is history you are reading?" "Yes," said Miss Rose; without, however, adding that it was the history of Mr. Humphrey Clinker. On another occasion he was rather scandalised at finding his sister with a book of French plays; but as the governess remarked that it was for the purpose of acquiring the French idiom in conversation, he was fain to be content. Mr. Crawley, as a diplomatist, was exceedingly proud of his own skill in speaking the French language (for he was of the world still), and not a little pleased with the compliments which the governess continually paid him upon his proficiency. Miss Violet's tastes were, on the contrary, more rude and boisterous than those of her sister. She knew the sequestered spots where the hens laid their eggs. She could climb a tree to rob the nests of the feathered songsters of their speckled spoils. And her pleasure was to ride the young colts, and to scour the plains like Camilla. She was the favourite of her father and of the stablemen. She was the darling, and withal the terror of the cook; for she discovered the haunts of the jam-pots, and would attack them when they were within her reach. She and her sister were engaged in constant battles. Any of which peccadilloes, if Miss Sharp discovered, she did not tell them to Lady Crawley; who would have told them to the father, or worse, to Mr. Crawley; but promised not to tell if Miss Violet would be a good girl and love her governess. With Mr. Crawley Miss Sharp was respectful and obedient. She used to consult him on passages of French which she could not understand, though her mother was a Frenchwoman, and which he would construe to her satisfaction: and, besides giving her his aid in profane literature, he was kind enough to select for her books of a more serious tendency, and address to her much of his conversation. She admired, beyond measure, his speech at the Quashimaboo-Aid Society; took an interest in his pamphlet on malt: was often affected, even to tears, by his discourses of an evening, and would say--"Oh, thank you, sir," with a sigh, and a look up to heaven, that made him occasionally condescend to shake hands with her. "Blood is everything, after all," would that aristocratic religionist say. "How Miss Sharp is awakened by my words, when not one of the people here is touched. I am too fine for them--too delicate. I must familiarise my style--but she understands it. Her mother was a Montmorency." Indeed it was from this famous family, as it appears, that Miss Sharp, by the mother's side, was descended. Of course she did not say that her mother had been on the stage; it would have shocked Mr. Crawley's religious scruples. How many noble emigres had this horrid revolution plunged in poverty! She had several stories about her ancestors ere she had been many months in the house; some of which Mr. Crawley happened to find in D'Hozier's dictionary, which was in the library, and which strengthened his belief in their truth, and in the high-breeding of Rebecca. Are we to suppose from this curiosity and prying into dictionaries, could our heroine suppose that Mr. Crawley was interested in her?--no, only in a friendly way. Have we not stated that he was attached to Lady Jane Sheepshanks? He took Rebecca to task once or twice about the propriety of playing at backgammon with Sir Pitt, saying that it was a godless amusement, and that she would be much better engaged in reading "Thrump's Legacy," or "The Blind Washerwoman of Moorfields," or any work of a more serious nature; but Miss Sharp said her dear mother used often to play the same game with the old Count de Trictrac and the venerable Abbe du Cornet, and so found an excuse for this and other worldly amusements. But it was not only by playing at backgammon with the Baronet, that the little governess rendered herself agreeable to her employer. She found many different ways of being useful to him. She read over, with indefatigable patience, all those law papers, with which, before she came to Queen's Crawley, he had promised to entertain her. She volunteered to copy many of his letters, and adroitly altered the spelling of them so as to suit the usages of the present day. She became interested in everything appertaining to the estate, to the farm, the park, the garden, and the stables; and so delightful a companion was she, that the Baronet would seldom take his after-breakfast walk without her (and the children of course), when she would give her advice as to the trees which were to be lopped in the shrubberies, the garden-beds to be dug, the crops which were to be cut, the horses which were to go to cart or plough. Before she had been a year at Queen's Crawley she had quite won the Baronet's confidence; and the conversation at the dinner-table, which before used to be held between him and Mr. Horrocks the butler, was now almost exclusively between Sir Pitt and Miss Sharp. She was almost mistress of the house when Mr. Crawley was absent, but conducted herself in her new and exalted situation with such circumspection and modesty as not to offend the authorities of the kitchen and stable, among whom her behaviour was always exceedingly modest and affable. She was quite a different person from the haughty, shy, dissatisfied little girl whom we have known previously, and this change of temper proved great prudence, a sincere desire of amendment, or at any rate great moral courage on her part. Whether it was the heart which dictated this new system of complaisance and humility adopted by our Rebecca, is to be proved by her after-history. A system of hypocrisy, which lasts through whole years, is one seldom satisfactorily practised by a person of one-and-twenty; however, our readers will recollect, that, though young in years, our heroine was old in life and experience, and we have written to no purpose if they have not discovered that she was a very clever woman. The elder and younger son of the house of Crawley were, like the gentleman and lady in the weather-box, never at home together--they hated each other cordially: indeed, Rawdon Crawley, the dragoon, had a great contempt for the establishment altogether, and seldom came thither except when his aunt paid her annual visit. The great good quality of this old lady has been mentioned. She possessed seventy thousand pounds, and had almost adopted Rawdon. She disliked her elder nephew exceedingly, and despised him as a milksop. In return he did not hesitate to state that her soul was irretrievably lost, and was of opinion that his brother's chance in the next world was not a whit better. "She is a godless woman of the world," would Mr. Crawley say; "she lives with atheists and Frenchmen. My mind shudders when I think of her awful, awful situation, and that, near as she is to the grave, she should be so given up to vanity, licentiousness, profaneness, and folly." In fact, the old lady declined altogether to hear his hour's lecture of an evening; and when she came to Queen's Crawley alone, he was obliged to pretermit his usual devotional exercises. "Shut up your sarmons, Pitt, when Miss Crawley comes down," said his father; "she has written to say that she won't stand the preachifying." "O, sir! consider the servants." "The servants be hanged," said Sir Pitt; and his son thought even worse would happen were they deprived of the benefit of his instruction. "Why, hang it, Pitt!" said the father to his remonstrance. "You wouldn't be such a flat as to let three thousand a year go out of the family?" "What is money compared to our souls, sir?" continued Mr. Crawley. "You mean that the old lady won't leave the money to you?"--and who knows but it was Mr. Crawley's meaning? Old Miss Crawley was certainly one of the reprobate. She had a snug little house in Park Lane, and, as she ate and drank a great deal too much during the season in London, she went to Harrowgate or Cheltenham for the summer. She was the most hospitable and jovial of old vestals, and had been a beauty in her day, she said. (All old women were beauties once, we very well know.) She was a bel esprit, and a dreadful Radical for those days. She had been in France (where St. Just, they say, inspired her with an unfortunate passion), and loved, ever after, French novels, French cookery, and French wines. She read Voltaire, and had Rousseau by heart; talked very lightly about divorce, and most energetically of the rights of women. She had pictures of Mr. Fox in every room in the house: when that statesman was in opposition, I am not sure that she had not flung a main with him; and when he came into office, she took great credit for bringing over to him Sir Pitt and his colleague for Queen's Crawley, although Sir Pitt would have come over himself, without any trouble on the honest lady's part. It is needless to say that Sir Pitt was brought to change his views after the death of the great Whig statesman. This worthy old lady took a fancy to Rawdon Crawley when a boy, sent him to Cambridge (in opposition to his brother at Oxford), and, when the young man was requested by the authorities of the first-named University to quit after a residence of two years, she bought him his commission in the Life Guards Green. A perfect and celebrated "blood," or dandy about town, was this young officer. Boxing, rat-hunting, the fives court, and four-in- hand driving were then the fashion of our British aristocracy; and he was an adept in all these noble sciences. And though he belonged to the household troops, who, as it was their duty to rally round the Prince Regent, had not shown their valour in foreign service yet, Rawdon Crawley had already (apropos of play, of which he was immoderately fond) fought three bloody duels, in which he gave ample proofs of his contempt for death. "And for what follows after death," would Mr. Crawley observe, throwing his gooseberry-coloured eyes up to the ceiling. He was always thinking of his brother's soul, or of the souls of those who differed with him in opinion: it is a sort of comfort which many of the serious give themselves. Silly, romantic Miss Crawley, far from being horrified at the courage of her favourite, always used to pay his debts after his duels; and would not listen to a word that was whispered against his morality. "He will sow his wild oats," she would say, "and is worth far more than that puling hypocrite of a brother of his." 第 十 章    夏泼小姐交朋友了     克劳莱家里好些和蔼可亲的人物,在前几页里面已经描写过了.利蓓加现在算他们一家人,当然有责任讨恩人们的喜欢,尽力得到他们的信任.这话是她自己说的.像她这么一个无依无靠的孤儿,能够知恩感德,真值得夸奖.就算她的打算有些自私的地方,谁也不能否认这份儿深谋远虑是很合理的.这孤苦伶仃的女孩儿说:"我只有单身一个人.除了自己劳力所得,没有什么别的指望.爱米丽亚那粉红脸儿的小不点儿,还没有我一半懂事,倒有十万镑财产,住宅家具奴仆一应俱全.可怜的利蓓加(我的腰身比爱米丽亚的好看得多了),只能靠着自己和自己的聪明来打天下.瞧着吧,我仗着这点聪明,总有一天过活得很有气派,总有一天让爱米丽亚小姐瞧瞧我比她强多少.我倒并不讨厌她,谁能够讨厌这么一个没用的好心人儿呢?可是如果将来我的地位比她高,那多美啊!不信我就到不了那么一天."我们的小朋友一脑袋幻想,憧憬着美丽的将来.在她的空中楼阁里面,最主要的人物就是她的丈夫,请大家听了这话别嗔怪她.小姐们的心思转来转去不就想着丈夫吗?她们亲爱的妈妈不也老是在筹划她们的婚事吗?利蓓加说道:"我只能做我自己的妈妈."她回想到自己和乔斯.赛特笠的一场不如意事,心里难过,只能自己认输.     她很精明,决定在女王的克劳莱巩固自己的地位,舒舒服服过日子.因此在她周围的人,凡是和她有利害关系的,她都想法子笼络.克劳莱夫人算不得什么.她懒洋洋的,做人非常疲软,在家里全无地位.利蓓加不久发现不值得费力结交她,而且即使费了力也是枉然.她和学生们说起话来,总称她为"你们那可怜的妈妈".她对于克劳莱夫人不冷不热,不错规矩,却很聪明的把大部分的心思用在其余各人身上.     两个孩子全心喜欢她.她的方法很简单,对学生不多给功课,随她们自由发展.你想,什么教育法比自学的效力更大呢?大的孩子很喜欢看书.在女王的克劳莱大厦的书房里,有不少十八世纪的文学作品,有英文的,也有法文的,都是轻松的读物.这些书还是照例行文局的秘书在倒台的时候买下来的.目前家里的人从来不挨书架,因此利蓓加能够随心如意的给露丝.克劳莱小姐灌输许多知识连带着娱乐自己的心性.     她和露丝小姐一起读了许多有趣的英文书法文书,作家包括渊博的斯摩莱特博士(斯摩莱特(Ｔｏｂｉａｓ　Ｓｍｏｌｌｅｔｔ,１７２１—７１),英国小说家.),聪明机巧的菲尔丁先生(菲尔丁(Ｈｅｎｒｙ　Ｆｉｅｌｄｉｎｇ,１７０５—５４),英国小说家.),风格典雅.布局突兀的小克雷比勇先生(克雷比勇(Ｃｌａｕｄｅ　Ｃｒéｂｉｌｌｏｎ,１７０７—７７),法国戏剧家和小说家.)(他是咱们不朽的诗人格蕾(格蕾(Ｔｈｏｍａｓ　Ｇｒａｙ,１７１６—７１),英国诗人.)一再推崇的),还有无所不通的伏尔泰先生(伏尔泰(Ｖｏｌｔａｉｒｅ,１６９４—１７７８),法国作家,是推动法国大革命的力量之一.).有一回克劳莱先生问起两个孩子究竟读什么书.她们的教师回答道:"斯摩莱特."克劳莱先生听了很满意,说道:"啊,斯摩莱特.他的历史很沉闷,不过不像休姆先生(休姆(Ｄａｖｉｄ　Ｈｕｍｅ,１７１１—７６),英国哲学家,曾写过英国都铎王朝及斯丢亚王朝的历史.斯摩莱特曾写过英国历史.)的作品一样有危害性.你们在念历史吗?"露丝小姐答道:"是的."可是没有说明白念的是亨弗瑞.克林格的历史(斯摩莱特的小说.).又有一回他发现妹妹在看一本法文戏剧,不由得有些嗔怪的意思,后来那教师跟他解释,说是借此学习法国人谈话中的成语,他也就罢了.克劳莱先生因为是外交家,一向得意自己法文说的好(他对于世事还关心得很呢!),听得女教师不住口的夸赞他的法文,心上非常欢喜.     凡奥兰小姐的兴趣恰好相反.她闹闹嚷嚷的,比她姐姐卤莽得多.她知道母鸡在什么隐僻的角落里下蛋.她会爬树,把鸟窝里斑斑点点的鸟蛋偷掉.她爱骑着小马,像卡密拉(卡密拉(Ｃａｍｉｌｌａ)是神话中伏尔西地方的皇后,她跑得飞快,因此跑过麦田,麦叶不弯,跑过海洋,两脚不湿.)一般在旷野里奔跑.她是她爸爸和马夫们的宝贝.厨娘最宠她,可是也最怕她,因为她有本事把一罐罐藏得好好儿的糖酱找出来,只要拿得着,无有不偷吃的.她跟姐姐不停的拌嘴吵架.夏泼小姐有时发现她犯这些小过错,从来不去告诉克劳莱夫人.因为克劳莱夫人一知道,少不得转告她爸爸,或者告诉克劳莱先生,那就更糟.利蓓加答应保守秘密,只要凡奥兰小姐乖乖的做好孩子,爱她的教师.     夏泼小姐对克劳莱先生又恭敬又服帖.虽然她自己的妈妈是法国人,可是常常碰到看不懂的法文句子,拿去向他请教.克劳莱先生每回给她讲解得清清楚楚.他真肯帮忙,除了文学方面点拨利蓓加以外,还替她挑选宗教气息比较浓厚的读物,而且常常和她谈天.利蓓加听了他在瓜希马布传教团劝募会上的演说,佩服得五体投地,对于他那关于麦芽的小册子也很感兴趣.有时他晚上在家讲道,她听了感动得掉下泪来,口里说:"啊,先生,谢谢你."一面说,一面翻起眼睛瞧着天叹一口气.克劳莱先生听了这话,往往赏脸和她握手.贵族出身的宗教家常说:"血统到底是要紧的,你看,只有夏泼小姐受我的启发而领悟了真理.这儿别的人都无动于中.我的话实在太细腻.太微妙了,他们是听不懂的.以后得想法子通俗化一些才好.可是她就能领会.她的母亲是蒙脱莫伦茜(蒙脱莫伦茜(Ｍａｉｓｏｎ　ｄｅ　Ｍｏｎｔｍｏｒｅｎｃｙ)是法国最有名的豪门望族之一,从十二世纪起已经公侯辈出.)一族的."     看来这家名门望族就是夏泼小姐的外婆家,对于她母亲上舞台的事,她当然一句不提,免得触犯了克劳莱先生宗教上的顾忌.说来可恨,从法国大革命之后,流亡在外国的贵族无以为生的真不在少数.利蓓加进门没有几个月就讲了好几个关于她祖宗的轶事.其中有几个,克劳莱先生发现书房里那本陶齐哀字典(陶齐哀(Ｄ,Ｈｏｚｉｏｒ)是法国有名谱牒学世家,祖孙叔侄都以谱牒学出名,此处所说的字典,是路易士.陶齐哀(Ｌｏｕｉｓ　Ｐｉｅｒｒｅ　Ｄ,Ｈｏｚｉｅｒ,１６８５—１７６７)和他儿子安东.马列.陶齐哀(Ａｎｔｏｉｎｅ　Ｍａｒｉｅ　Ｄ,Ｈｏｚｉｅｒ　ｄｅ　Ｓｅｒｉｇｎｙ,１７２１—１８１０)合著的.)里也有记载,更加深信不疑,断定利蓓加的确是世家后裔.他好奇心那么强,甚至于肯去翻字典,难道是因为他对利蓓加有意吗?我们的女主角能不能这么猜测一下呢?不!这不过是普通的感情罢了.我不是老早说过他看中的是吉恩.希伯香克斯小姐吗?　　有一两回,他看见利蓓加陪着毕脱爵士玩双陆,就去责备她,说是不敬上帝的人才喜欢这玩意儿,不如看看《脱伦浦的遗产》和《靡尔非尔的瞎眼洗衣妇》这类正经书来得有益.夏泼小姐回说她亲爱的妈妈从前常常陪着特.脱利克脱辣克老伯爵和地.各内修院住持玩这种游戏.这样一说,这类世俗的玩意儿都可以上场了.     家庭教师笼络她东家的方法并不限于陪他玩双陆.她还在许多别的事情上为他效劳.她没有到女王的克劳莱以前,毕脱爵士曾经答应把案卷给她消遣,如今她孜孜不倦的把所有的案卷都看过一遍,又自动帮他抄写信件,并且巧妙地改正他的别字,使他写的字合于时下沿用的体例.凡是和庄地.农场.猎苑.花园.马房有关系的一切事务,她都爱知道.从男爵觉得跟她做伴实在有趣,早饭后出去散步的时候总带着她......孩子们当然也跟着一块儿去.她向他提供许多意见,像灌木该怎么修剪,谷物该怎么收割,花床里怎么栽花,怎么套车,怎么犁田.夏泼小姐在女王的克劳莱不满一年,已经成了从男爵的亲信.本来毕脱爵士吃饭的时候常跟佣人头儿霍洛克斯先生说话,如今只跟她说话了.克劳莱先生不在家的时候,她差不多是宅子里的主妇.她的新地位虽然高,可是她留心不去冒犯管厨房和管马房的体面佣人.对他们又虚心又客气.我们以前看见的利蓓加,还是个骄傲.怕羞.满腹牢骚的女孩子;现在可不同了.她的性情有了转变,足见她为人谨慎,有心向上,至少可说她有痛改前非的勇气.利蓓加采取了新作风,做人谦逊和顺,究竟她是否出于至诚,只要看她以后的历史就能知道.长时期的虚情假意,二十一岁的年轻人恐怕装不出吧?可是话又说回来,我们这女主角年纪虽小,经验可不少,行事着实老练.各位读者如果到现在还没有发现利蓓加聪明能干,写书的真是白费力气了.     克劳莱家里的两兄弟牙痒痒的你恨我我嫌你,因此像晴雨表盒子里的一男一女,从来不同时在家(男女两人一个是天晴的标记,一个是天雨的标记.).不瞒你说,罗登.克劳莱,那个骑兵,压根儿瞧不起自己的老家.他姑妈一年来拜访一次,他也跟着来,平常是不高兴回家的.     关于这位老太太了不起的好处,前面已经说过.她有七万镑财产,而且差不多已经收了罗登做干儿子.她最讨厌大侄儿,嫌他是个脓包,瞧他不起.克劳莱先生呢,也毫不迟疑的断定她的灵魂已经没有救星,而且说他弟弟罗登死后的命运也不会比姑妈的好.他常说:"她这人最贪享受,而且眼里没有上帝,老跟法国人和无神论者混在一起,我一想起她这危险的处境就忍不住发抖.她离死不远了,竟还是这么骄奢淫佚,爱慕虚荣.而且她一味的糊涂,开口亵渎神明,想起来真叫人担心."事情是这样的,他每晚要花一个钟头讲道,老太太一口回绝不要听.如果姑妈单身到女王的克劳莱作客,他的经常晚祷便不得不停止.     他父亲说:"毕脱,克劳莱小姐回来的时候别讲道.她写信来说她最讨厌人家传道说法."     "唷,佣人们怎么办呢?"     毕脱爵士答道:"呸!佣人们上了吊我也不管."儿子的意思认为听不到他的讲道比上吊更糟.     他这么一辩驳,他父亲就说:"怎么了,毕脱,难道你愿意家里少三千镑一年的进款吗?你不能这么糊涂吧?"     克劳莱先生答道:"比起咱们的灵魂来,几个钱算得了什么?"     "你的意思是,反正老太太的钱不给你,对不对啊?"克劳莱先生也许竟是这个意思,也未可知.     克劳莱小姐的生活的确腐败得很.她在派克街有一所舒服的小宅子,每逢夏天上哈罗该脱和契尔顿纳姆避暑,因为在伦敦应酬交际最热闹的时候她老是吃喝得太多,非得活动活动不可.所有的老姑娘里头,算她最好客,兴致也最高.据她自己说,当年她还是个美人儿呢!(我们知道,所有的老婆子当年都是美人儿.)她谈吐风趣,在当时是个骇人听闻的激进分子.她到过法国;听说她在哪儿有过一页伤心史,竟爱上了圣.于斯德(圣.于斯德(Ｌｏｕｉｓ　ｄｅ　Ｓａｉｎｔ－Ｊｕｓｔ,１７６７—９４),法国大革命的领袖之一.).她从法国回来以后,一直喜欢法国小说.法国酒和法国式烹调.她爱看伏尔泰的作品,背得出卢梭(卢梭(Ｊｅａｎ　Ｊａｃｑｕｅｓ　Ｒｏｕｓｓｅａｕ,１７２１—７８),和伏尔泰同时的作家,主张解除束缚,回到自然,对当时法国人的思想极有影响,是推动法国大革命的力量之一.)的名句,把离婚看得稀松平常,并且竭力提倡女权.她屋子里每间房里都有福克斯先生(福克斯(Ｃｈａｒｌｅｓ　Ｊａｍｅｓ　Ｆｏｘ,１７４９—１８０６),英国政治家.他很有学问,可是很爱赌.)的肖像.这位政治家在野的时候,她大概跟他在一块儿赌过钱.他上台之后,她常常自夸,说毕脱爵士和女王的克劳莱选区另外的一个代表所以肯投票选举福克斯,都是她的功劳.其实即使这位忠厚的老太太不管这事,毕脱爵士也会选福克斯的.这了不起的自由党员去世以后,毕脱爵士才改变了原来的政治见解,这也是理所当然的事.     罗登小的时候,这好老太太就很喜欢他,把他送到剑桥大学去读书(因为哥哥进的是牛津大学,因此存心和哥哥对立),两年之后,剑桥大学当局请他不必再去了,姑妈便又替他在禁卫军里捐了个军官的位置.     这年轻军官是个有名的花花公子.那时英国的贵族都爱拳击,猎田鼠,玩壁球,还爱一个人赶四匹马拉的马车.这些高超的学问,罗登没一门不精通.他属于禁卫军,责任在保卫摄政王的安全,因此没有到外国去打过仗.虽然这么说,他已经和人决斗了三次(三次都因为赌博而起,因为罗登爱赌爱得没有节制),可见他一点儿不怕死.     "也不怕死后的遭遇,"克劳莱先生一面说,一面翻起黑莓颜色的眼珠子望着天花板.他老是惦记着弟弟的灵魂.凡是有什么人意见和他不合,他就为他们的灵魂发愁.好些正经人都像他这样,觉得这是一种安慰.     克劳莱小姐又糊涂又浪漫,瞧着她的宝贝罗登仗着血气之勇干这些事,不但不害怕,在他决斗过后还代他还债.她不准别人批评他的品行,总是说:"少年荒唐是普通事.他那哥哥才是个脓包伪君子,罗登比他强多了."

CHAPTER XI Arcadian Simplicity Besides these honest folks at the Hall (whose simplicity and sweet rural purity surely show the advantage of a country life over a town one), we must introduce the reader to their relatives and neighbours at the Rectory, Bute Crawley and his wife. The Reverend Bute Crawley was a tall, stately, jolly, shovel-hatted man, far more popular in his county than the Baronet his brother. At college he pulled stroke-oar in the Christchurch boat, and had thrashed all the best bruisers of the "town." He carried his taste for boxing and athletic exercises into private life; there was not a fight within twenty miles at which he was not present, nor a race, nor a coursing match, nor a regatta, nor a ball, nor an election, nor a visitation dinner, nor indeed a good dinner in the whole county, but he found means to attend it. You might see his bay mare and gig-lamps a score of miles away from his Rectory House, whenever there was any dinner-party at Fuddleston, or at Roxby, or at Wapshot Hall, or at the great lords of the county, with all of whom he was intimate. He had a fine voice; sang "A southerly wind and a cloudy sky"; and gave the "whoop" in chorus with general applause. He rode to hounds in a pepper-and-salt frock, and was one of the best fishermen in the county. Mrs. Crawley, the rector's wife, was a smart little body, who wrote this worthy divine's sermons. Being of a domestic turn, and keeping the house a great deal with her daughters, she ruled absolutely within the Rectory, wisely giving her husband full liberty without. He was welcome to come and go, and dine abroad as many days as his fancy dictated, for Mrs. Crawley was a saving woman and knew the price of port wine. Ever since Mrs. Bute carried off the young Rector of Queen's Crawley (she was of a good family, daughter of the late Lieut.-Colonel Hector McTavish, and she and her mother played for Bute and won him at Harrowgate), she had been a prudent and thrifty wife to him. In spite of her care, however, he was always in debt. It took him at least ten years to pay off his college bills contracted during his father's lifetime. In the year 179-, when he was just clear of these incumbrances, he gave the odds of 100 to 1 (in twenties) against Kangaroo, who won the Derby. The Rector was obliged to take up the money at a ruinous interest, and had been struggling ever since. His sister helped him with a hundred now and then, but of course his great hope was in her death-- when "hang it" (as he would say), "Matilda must leave me half her money." So that the Baronet and his brother had every reason which two brothers possibly can have for being by the ears. Sir Pitt had had the better of Bute in innumerable family transactions. Young Pitt not only did not hunt, but set up a meeting house under his uncle's very nose. Rawdon, it was known, was to come in for the bulk of Miss Crawley's property. These money transactions--these speculations in life and death--these silent battles for reversionary spoil--make brothers very loving towards each other in Vanity Fair. I, for my part, have known a five-pound note to interpose and knock up a half century's attachment between two brethren; and can't but admire, as I think what a fine and durable thing Love is among worldly people. It cannot be supposed that the arrival of such a personage as Rebecca at Queen's Crawley, and her gradual establishment in the good graces of all people there, could be unremarked by Mrs. Bute Crawley. Mrs. Bute, who knew how many days the sirloin of beef lasted at the Hall; how much linen was got ready at the great wash; how many peaches were on the south wall; how many doses her ladyship took when she was ill--for such points are matters of intense interest to certain persons in the country--Mrs. Bute, I say, could not pass over the Hall governess without making every inquiry respecting her history and character. There was always the best understanding between the servants at the Rectory and the Hall. There was always a good glass of ale in the kitchen of the former place for the Hall people, whose ordinary drink was very small--and, indeed, the Rector's lady knew exactly how much malt went to every barrel of Hall beer--ties of relationship existed between the Hall and Rectory domestics, as between their masters; and through these channels each family was perfectly well acquainted with the doings of the other. That, by the way, may be set down as a general remark. When you and your brother are friends, his doings are indifferent to you. When you have quarrelled, all his outgoings and incomings you know, as if you were his spy. Very soon then after her arrival, Rebecca began to take a regular place in Mrs. Crawley's bulletin from the Hall. It was to this effect: "The black porker's killed--weighed x stone--salted the sides--pig's pudding and leg of pork for dinner. Mr. Cramp from Mudbury, over with Sir Pitt about putting John Blackmore in gaol-- Mr. Pitt at meeting (with all the names of the people who attended) --my lady as usual--the young ladies with the governess." Then the report would come--the new governess be a rare manager--Sir Pitt be very sweet on her--Mr. Crawley too--He be reading tracts to her--"What an abandoned wretch!" said little, eager, active, black- faced Mrs. Bute Crawley. Finally, the reports were that the governess had "come round" everybody, wrote Sir Pitt's letters, did his business, managed his accounts--had the upper hand of the whole house, my lady, Mr. Crawley, the girls and all--at which Mrs. Crawley declared she was an artful hussy, and had some dreadful designs in view. Thus the doings at the Hall were the great food for conversation at the Rectory, and Mrs. Bute's bright eyes spied out everything that took place in the enemy's camp--everything and a great deal besides. Mrs. Bute Crawley to Miss Pinkerton, The Mall, Chiswick. Rectory, Queen's Crawley, December--. My Dear Madam,--Although it is so many years since I profited by your delightful and invaluable instructions, yet I have ever retained the FONDEST and most reverential regard for Miss Pinkerton, and DEAR Chiswick. I hope your health is GOOD. The world and the cause of education cannot afford to lose Miss Pinkerton for MANY MANY YEARS. When my friend, Lady Fuddleston, mentioned that her dear girls required an instructress (I am too poor to engage a governess for mine, but was I not educated at Chiswick?)--"Who," I exclaimed, "can we consult but the excellent, the incomparable Miss Pinkerton?" In a word, have you, dear madam, any ladies on your list, whose services might be made available to my kind friend and neighbour? I assure you she will take no governess BUT OF YOUR CHOOSING. My dear husband is pleased to say that he likes EVERYTHING WHICH COMES FROM MISS PINKERTON'S SCHOOL. How I wish I could present him and my beloved girls to the friend of my youth, and the ADMIRED of the great lexicographer of our country! If you ever travel into Hampshire, Mr. Crawley begs me to say, he hopes you will adorn our RURAL RECTORY with your presence. 'Tis the humble but happy home of Your affectionate Martha Crawley P.S. Mr. Crawley's brother, the baronet, with whom we are not, alas! upon those terms of UNITY in which it BECOMES BRETHREN TO DWELL, has a governess for his little girls, who, I am told, had the good fortune to be educated at Chiswick. I hear various reports of her; and as I have the tenderest interest in my dearest little nieces, whom I wish, in spite of family differences, to see among my own children--and as I long to be attentive to ANY PUPIL OF YOURS-- do, my dear Miss Pinkerton, tell me the history of this young lady, whom, for YOUR SAKE, I am most anxious to befriend.--M. C. Miss Pinkerton to Mrs. Bute Crawley. Johnson House, Chiswick, Dec. 18--. Dear Madam,--I have the honour to acknowledge your polite communication, to which I promptly reply. 'Tis most gratifying to one in my most arduous position to find that my maternal cares have elicited a responsive affection; and to recognize in the amiable Mrs. Bute Crawley my excellent pupil of former years, the sprightly and accomplished Miss Martha MacTavish. I am happy to have under my charge now the daughters of many of those who were your contemporaries at my establishment--what pleasure it would give me if your own beloved young ladies had need of my instructive superintendence! Presenting my respectful compliments to Lady Fuddleston, I have the honour (epistolarily) to introduce to her ladyship my two friends, Miss Tuffin and Miss Hawky. Either of these young ladies is PERFECTLY QUALIFIED to instruct in Greek, Latin, and the rudiments of Hebrew; in mathematics and history; in Spanish, French, Italian, and geography; in music, vocal and instrumental; in dancing, without the aid of a master; and in the elements of natural sciences. In the use of the globes both are proficients. In addition to these Miss Tuffin, who is daughter of the late Reverend Thomas Tuffin (Fellow of Corpus College, Cambridge), can instruct in the Syriac language, and the elements of Constitutional law. But as she is only eighteen years of age, and of exceedingly pleasing personal appearance, perhaps this young lady may be objectionable in Sir Huddleston Fuddleston's family. Miss Letitia Hawky, on the other hand, is not personally well- favoured. She is-twenty-nine; her face is much pitted with the small-pox. She has a halt in her gait, red hair, and a trifling obliquity of vision. Both ladies are endowed with EVERY MORAL AND RELIGIOUS VIRTUE. Their terms, of course, are such as their accomplishments merit. With my most grateful respects to the Reverend Bute Crawley, I have the honour to be, Dear Madam, Your most faithful and obedient servant, Barbara Pinkerton. P.S. The Miss Sharp, whom you mention as governess to Sir Pitt Crawley, Bart., M.P., was a pupil of mine, and I have nothing to say in her disfavour. Though her appearance is disagreeable, we cannot control the operations of nature: and though her parents were disreputable (her father being a painter, several times bankrupt, and her mother, as I have since learned, with horror, a dancer at the Opera); yet her talents are considerable, and I cannot regret that I received her OUT OF CHARITY. My dread is, lest the principles of the mother--who was represented to me as a French Countess, forced to emigrate in the late revolutionary horrors; but who, as I have since found, was a person of the very lowest order and morals--should at any time prove to be HEREDITARY in the unhappy young woman whom I took as AN OUTCAST. But her principles have hitherto been correct (I believe), and I am sure nothing will occur to injure them in the elegant and refined circle of the eminent Sir Pitt Crawley. Miss Rebecca Sharp to Miss Amelia Sedley. I have not written to my beloved Amelia for these many weeks past, for what news was there to tell of the sayings and doings at Humdrum Hall, as I have christened it; and what do you care whether the turnip crop is good or bad; whether the fat pig weighed thirteen stone or fourteen; and whether the beasts thrive well upon mangelwurzel? Every day since I last wrote has been like its neighbour. Before breakfast, a walk with Sir Pitt and his spud; after breakfast studies (such as they are) in the schoolroom; after schoolroom, reading and writing about lawyers, leases, coal-mines, canals, with Sir Pitt (whose secretary I am become); after dinner, Mr. Crawley's discourses on the baronet's backgammon; during both of which amusements my lady looks on with equal placidity. She has become rather more interesting by being ailing of late, which has brought a new visitor to the Hall, in the person of a young doctor. Well, my dear, young women need never despair. The young doctor gave a certain friend of yours to understand that, if she chose to be Mrs. Glauber, she was welcome to ornament the surgery! I told his impudence that the gilt pestle and mortar was quite ornament enough; as if I was born, indeed, to be a country surgeon's wife! Mr. Glauber went home seriously indisposed at his rebuff, took a cooling draught, and is now quite cured. Sir Pitt applauded my resolution highly; he would be sorry to lose his little secretary, I think; and I believe the old wretch likes me as much as it is in his nature to like any one. Marry, indeed! and with a country apothecary, after-- No, no, one cannot so soon forget old associations, about which I will talk no more. Let us return to Humdrum Hall. For some time past it is Humdrum Hall no longer. My dear, Miss Crawley has arrived with her fat horses, fat servants, fat spaniel-- the great rich Miss Crawley, with seventy thousand pounds in the five per cents., whom, or I had better say WHICH, her two brothers adore. She looks very apoplectic, the dear soul; no wonder her brothers are anxious about her. You should see them struggling to settle her cushions, or to hand her coffee! "When I come into the country," she says (for she has a great deal of humour), "I leave my toady, Miss Briggs, at home. My brothers are my toadies here, my dear, and a pretty pair they are!" When she comes into the country our hall is thrown open, and for a month, at least, you would fancy old Sir Walpole was come to life again. We have dinner-parties, and drive out in the coach-and-four the footmen put on their newest canary-coloured liveries; we drink claret and champagne as if we were accustomed to it every day. We have wax candles in the schoolroom, and fires to warm ourselves with. Lady Crawley is made to put on the brightest pea-green in her wardrobe, and my pupils leave off their thick shoes and tight old tartan pelisses, and wear silk stockings and muslin frocks, as fashionable baronets' daughters should. Rose came in yesterday in a sad plight--the Wiltshire sow (an enormous pet of hers) ran her down, and destroyed a most lovely flowered lilac silk dress by dancing over it--had this happened a week ago, Sir Pitt would have sworn frightfully, have boxed the poor wretch's ears, and put her upon bread and water for a month. All he said was, "I'll serve you out, Miss, when your aunt's gone," and laughed off the accident as quite trivial. Let us hope his wrath will have passed away before Miss Crawley's departure. I hope so, for Miss Rose's sake, I am sure. What a charming reconciler and peacemaker money is! Another admirable effect of Miss Crawley and her seventy thousand pounds is to be seen in the conduct of the two brothers Crawley. I mean the baronet and the rector, not OUR brothers--but the former, who hate each other all the year round, become quite loving at Christmas. I wrote to you last year how the abominable horse-racing rector was in the habit of preaching clumsy sermons at us at church, and how Sir Pitt snored in answer. When Miss Crawley arrives there is no such thing as quarrelling heard of--the Hall visits the Rectory, and vice versa--the parson and the Baronet talk about the pigs and the poachers, and the county business, in the most affable manner, and without quarrelling in their cups, I believe--indeed Miss Crawley won't hear of their quarrelling, and vows that she will leave her money to the Shropshire Crawleys if they offend her. If they were clever people, those Shropshire Crawleys, they might have it all, I think; but the Shropshire Crawley is a clergyman like his Hampshire cousin, and mortally offended Miss Crawley (who had fled thither in a fit of rage against her impracticable brethren) by some strait-laced notions of morality. He would have prayers in the house, I believe. Our sermon books are shut up when Miss Crawley arrives, and Mr. Pitt, whom she abominates, finds it convenient to go to town. On the other hand, the young dandy--"blood," I believe, is the term-- Captain Crawley makes his appearance, and I suppose you will like to know what sort of a person he is. Well, he is a very large young dandy. He is six feet high, and speaks with a great voice; and swears a great deal; and orders about the servants, who all adore him nevertheless; for he is very generous of his money, and the domestics will do anything for him. Last week the keepers almost killed a bailiff and his man who came down from London to arrest the Captain, and who were found lurking about the Park wall--they beat them, ducked them, and were going to shoot them for poachers, but the baronet interfered. The Captain has a hearty contempt for his father, I can see, and calls him an old PUT, an old SNOB, an old CHAW-BACON, and numberless other pretty names. He has a DREADFUL REPUTATION among the ladies. He brings his hunters home with him, lives with the Squires of the county, asks whom he pleases to dinner, and Sir Pitt dares not say no, for fear of offending Miss Crawley, and missing his legacy when she dies of her apoplexy. Shall I tell you a compliment the Captain paid me? I must, it is so pretty. One evening we actually had a dance; there was Sir Huddleston Fuddleston and his family, Sir Giles Wapshot and his young ladies, and I don't know how many more. Well, I heard him say--"By Jove, she's a neat little filly!" meaning your humble servant; and he did me the honour to dance two country-dances with me. He gets on pretty gaily with the young Squires, with whom he drinks, bets, rides, and talks about hunting and shooting; but he says the country girls are BORES; indeed, I don't think he is far wrong. You should see the contempt with which they look down on poor me! When they dance I sit and play the piano very demurely; but the other night, coming in rather flushed from the dining-room, and seeing me employed in this way, he swore out loud that I was the best dancer in the room, and took a great oath that he would have the fiddlers from Mudbury. "I'll go and play a country-dance," said Mrs. Bute Crawley, very readily (she is a little, black-faced old woman in a turban, rather crooked, and with very twinkling eyes); and after the Captain and your poor little Rebecca had performed a dance together, do you know she actually did me the honour to compliment me upon my steps! Such a thing was never heard of before; the proud Mrs. Bute Crawley, first cousin to the Earl of Tiptoff, who won't condescend to visit Lady Crawley, except when her sister is in the country. Poor Lady Crawley! during most part of these gaieties, she is upstairs taking pills. Mrs. Bute has all of a sudden taken a great fancy to me. "My dear Miss Sharp," she says, "why not bring over your girls to the Rectory?--their cousins will be so happy to see them." I know what she means. Signor Clementi did not teach us the piano for nothing; at which price Mrs. Bute hopes to get a professor for her children. I can see through her schemes, as though she told them to me; but I shall go, as I am determined to make myself agreeable--is it not a poor governess's duty, who has not a friend or protector in the world? The Rector's wife paid me a score of compliments about the progress my pupils made, and thought, no doubt, to touch my heart-- poor, simple, country soul!--as if I cared a fig about my pupils! Your India muslin and your pink silk, dearest Amelia, are said to become me very well. They are a good deal worn now; but, you know, we poor girls can't afford des fraiches toilettes. Happy, happy you! who have but to drive to St. James's Street, and a dear mother who will give you any thing you ask. Farewell, dearest girl, Your affectionate Rebecca. P.S.--I wish you could have seen the faces of the Miss Blackbrooks (Admiral Blackbrook's daughters, my dear), fine young ladies, with dresses from London, when Captain Rawdon selected poor me for a partner! When Mrs. Bute Crawley (whose artifices our ingenious Rebecca had so soon discovered) had procured from Miss Sharp the promise of a visit, she induced the all-powerful Miss Crawley to make the necessary application to Sir Pitt, and the good-natured old lady, who loved to be gay herself, and to see every one gay and happy round about her, was quite charmed, and ready to establish a reconciliation and intimacy between her two brothers. It was therefore agreed that the young people of both families should visit each other frequently for the future, and the friendship of course lasted as long as the jovial old mediatrix was there to keep the peace. "Why did you ask that scoundrel, Rawdon Crawley, to dine?" said the Rector to his lady, as they were walking home through the park. "I don't want the fellow. He looks down upon us country people as so many blackamoors. He's never content unless he gets my yellow-sealed wine, which costs me ten shillings a bottle, hang him! Besides, he's such an infernal character--he's a gambler--he's a drunkard--he's a profligate in every way. He shot a man in a duel--he's over head and ears in debt, and he's robbed me and mine of the best part of Miss Crawley's fortune. Waxy says she has him"--here the Rector shook his fist at the moon, with something very like an oath, and added, in a melancholious tone, "--down in her will for fifty thousand; and there won't be above thirty to divide." "I think she's going," said the Rector's wife. "She was very red in the face when we left dinner. I was obliged to unlace her." "She drank seven glasses of champagne," said the reverend gentleman, in a low voice; "and filthy champagne it is, too, that my brother poisons us with--but you women never know what's what." "We know nothing," said Mrs. Bute Crawley. "She drank cherry-brandy after dinner," continued his Reverence, "and took curacao with her coffee. I wouldn't take a glass for a five-pound note: it kills me with heartburn. She can't stand it, Mrs. Crawley--she must go--flesh and blood won't bear it! and I lay five to two, Matilda drops in a year." Indulging in these solemn speculations, and thinking about his debts, and his son Jim at College, and Frank at Woolwich, and the four girls, who were no beauties, poor things, and would not have a penny but what they got from the aunt's expected legacy, the Rector and his lady walked on for a while. "Pitt can't be such an infernal villain as to sell the reversion of the living. And that Methodist milksop of an eldest son looks to Parliament," continued Mr. Crawley, after a pause. "Sir Pitt Crawley will do anything," said the Rector's wife. "We must get Miss Crawley to make him promise it to James." "Pitt will promise anything," replied the brother. "He promised he'd pay my college bills, when my father died; he promised he'd build the new wing to the Rectory; he promised he'd let me have Jibb's field and the Six-acre Meadow--and much he executed his promises! And it's to this man's son--this scoundrel, gambler, swindler, murderer of a Rawdon Crawley, that Matilda leaves the bulk of her money. I say it's un-Christian. By Jove, it is. The infamous dog has got every vice except hypocrisy, and that belongs to his brother." "Hush, my dearest love! we're in Sir Pitt's grounds," interposed his wife. "I say he has got every vice, Mrs. Crawley. Don't Ma'am, bully me. Didn't he shoot Captain Marker? Didn't he rob young Lord Dovedale at the Cocoa-Tree? Didn't he cross the fight between Bill Soames and the Cheshire Trump, by which I lost forty pound? You know he did; and as for the women, why, you heard that before me, in my own magistrate's room." "For heaven's sake, Mr. Crawley," said the lady, "spare me the details." "And you ask this villain into your house!" continued the exasperated Rector. "You, the mother of a young family--the wife of a clergyman of the Church of England. By Jove!" "Bute Crawley, you are a fool," said the Rector's wife scornfully. "Well, Ma'am, fool or not--and I don't say, Martha, I'm so clever as you are, I never did. But I won't meet Rawdon Crawley, that's flat. I'll go over to Huddleston, that I will, and see his black greyhound, Mrs. Crawley; and I'll run Lancelot against him for fifty. By Jove, I will; or against any dog in England. But I won't meet that beast Rawdon Crawley." "Mr. Crawley, you are intoxicated, as usual," replied his wife. And the next morning, when the Rector woke, and called for small beer, she put him in mind of his promise to visit Sir Huddleston Fuddleston on Saturday, and as he knew he should have a wet night, it was agreed that he might gallop back again in time for church on Sunday morning. Thus it will be seen that the parishioners of Crawley were equally happy in their Squire and in their Rector. Miss Crawley had not long been established at the Hall before Rebecca's fascinations had won the heart of that good-natured London rake, as they had of the country innocents whom we have been describing. Taking her accustomed drive, one day, she thought fit to order that "that little governess" should accompany her to Mudbury. Before they had returned Rebecca had made a conquest of her; having made her laugh four times, and amused her during the whole of the little journey. "Not let Miss Sharp dine at table!" said she to Sir Pitt, who had arranged a dinner of ceremony, and asked all the neighbouring baronets. "My dear creature, do you suppose I can talk about the nursery with Lady Fuddleston, or discuss justices' business with that goose, old Sir Giles Wapshot? I insist upon Miss Sharp appearing. Let Lady Crawley remain upstairs, if there is no room. But little Miss Sharp! Why, she's the only person fit to talk to in the county!" Of course, after such a peremptory order as this, Miss Sharp, the governess, received commands to dine with the illustrious company below stairs. And when Sir Huddleston had, with great pomp and ceremony, handed Miss Crawley in to dinner, and was preparing to take his place by her side, the old lady cried out, in a shrill voice, "Becky Sharp! Miss Sharp! Come you and sit by me and amuse me; and let Sir Huddleston sit by Lady Wapshot." When the parties were over, and the carriages had rolled away, the insatiable Miss Crawley would say, "Come to my dressing room, Becky, and let us abuse the company"--which, between them, this pair of friends did perfectly. Old Sir Huddleston wheezed a great deal at dinner; Sir Giles Wapshot had a particularly noisy manner of imbibing his soup, and her ladyship a wink of the left eye; all of which Becky caricatured to admiration; as well as the particulars of the night's conversation; the politics; the war; the quarter- sessions; the famous run with the H.H., and those heavy and dreary themes, about which country gentlemen converse. As for the Misses Wapshot's toilettes and Lady Fuddleston's famous yellow hat, Miss Sharp tore them to tatters, to the infinite amusement of her audience. "My dear, you are a perfect trouvaille," Miss Crawley would say. "I wish you could come to me in London, but I couldn't make a butt of you as I do of poor Briggs no, no, you little sly creature; you are too clever--Isn't she, Firkin?" Mrs. Firkin (who was dressing the very small remnant of hair which remained on Miss Crawley's pate), flung up her head and said, "I think Miss is very clever," with the most killing sarcastic air. In fact, Mrs. Firkin had that natural jealousy which is one of the main principles of every honest woman. After rebuffing Sir Huddleston Fuddleston, Miss Crawley ordered that Rawdon Crawley should lead her in to dinner every day, and that Becky should follow with her cushion--or else she would have Becky's arm and Rawdon with the pillow. "We must sit together," she said. "We're the only three Christians in the county, my love"--in which case, it must be confessed, that religion was at a very low ebb in the county of Hants. Besides being such a fine religionist, Miss Crawley was, as we have said, an Ultra-liberal in opinions, and always took occasion to express these in the most candid manner. "What is birth, my dear!" she would say to Rebecca--"Look at my brother Pitt; look at the Huddlestons, who have been here since Henry II; look at poor Bute at the parsonage--is any one of them equal to you in intelligence or breeding? Equal to you--they are not even equal to poor dear Briggs, my companion, or Bowls, my butler. You, my love, are a little paragon--positively a little jewel--You have more brains than half the shire--if merit had its reward you ought to be a Duchess--no, there ought to be no duchesses at all-- but you ought to have no superior, and I consider you, my love, as my equal in every respect; and--will you put some coals on the fire, my dear; and will you pick this dress of mine, and alter it, you who can do it so well?" So this old philanthropist used to make her equal run of her errands, execute her millinery, and read her to sleep with French novels, every night. At this time, as some old readers may recollect, the genteel world had been thrown into a considerable state of excitement by two events, which, as the papers say, might give employment to the gentlemen of the long robe. Ensign Shafton had run away with Lady Barbara Fitzurse, the Earl of Bruin's daughter and heiress; and poor Vere Vane, a gentleman who, up to forty, had maintained a most respectable character and reared a numerous family, suddenly and outrageously left his home, for the sake of Mrs. Rougemont, the actress, who was sixty-five years of age. "That was the most beautiful part of dear Lord Nelson's character," Miss Crawley said. "He went to the deuce for a woman. There must be good in a man who will do that. I adore all impudent matches.-- What I like best, is for a nobleman to marry a miller's daughter, as Lord Flowerdale did--it makes all the women so angry--I wish some great man would run away with you, my dear; I'm sure you're pretty enough." "Two post-boys!--Oh, it would be delightful!" Rebecca owned. "And what I like next best, is for a poor fellow to run away with a rich girl. I have set my heart on Rawdon running away with some one." "A rich some one, or a poor some one?" "Why, you goose! Rawdon has not a shilling but what I give him. He is crible de dettes--he must repair his fortunes, and succeed in the world." "Is he very clever?" Rebecca asked. "Clever, my love?--not an idea in the world beyond his horses, and his regiment, and his hunting, and his play; but he must succeed-- he's so delightfully wicked. Don't you know he has hit a man, and shot an injured father through the hat only? He's adored in his regiment; and all the young men at Wattier's and the Cocoa-Tree swear by him." When Miss Rebecca Sharp wrote to her beloved friend the account of the little ball at Queen's Crawley, and the manner in which, for the first time, Captain Crawley had distinguished her, she did not, strange to relate, give an altogether accurate account of the transaction. The Captain had distinguished her a great number of times before. The Captain had met her in a half-score of walks. The Captain had lighted upon her in a half-hundred of corridors and passages. The Captain had hung over her piano twenty times of an evening (my Lady was now upstairs, being ill, and nobody heeded her) as Miss Sharp sang. The Captain had written her notes (the best that the great blundering dragoon could devise and spell; but dulness gets on as well as any other quality with women). But when he put the first of the notes into the leaves of the song she was singing, the little governess, rising and looking him steadily in the face, took up the triangular missive daintily, and waved it about as if it were a cocked hat, and she, advancing to the enemy, popped the note into the fire, and made him a very low curtsey, and went back to her place, and began to sing away again more merrily than ever. "What's that?" said Miss Crawley, interrupted in her after-dinner doze by the stoppage of the music. "It's a false note," Miss Sharp said with a laugh; and Rawdon Crawley fumed with rage and mortification. Seeing the evident partiality of Miss Crawley for the new governess, how good it was of Mrs. Bute Crawley not to be jealous, and to welcome the young lady to the Rectory, and not only her, but Rawdon Crawley, her husband's rival in the Old Maid's five per cents! They became very fond of each other's society, Mrs. Crawley and her nephew. He gave up hunting; he declined entertainments at Fuddleston: he would not dine with the mess of the depot at Mudbury: his great pleasure was to stroll over to Crawley parsonage--whither Miss Crawley came too; and as their mamma was ill, why not the children with Miss Sharp? So the children (little dears!) came with Miss Sharp; and of an evening some of the party would walk back together. Not Miss Crawley--she preferred her carriage--but the walk over the Rectory fields, and in at the little park wicket, and through the dark plantation, and up the checkered avenue to Queen's Crawley, was charming in the moonlight to two such lovers of the picturesque as the Captain and Miss Rebecca. "O those stars, those stars!" Miss Rebecca would say, turning her twinkling green eyes up towards them. "I feel myself almost a spirit when I gaze upon them." "O--ah--Gad--yes, so do I exactly, Miss Sharp," the other enthusiast replied. "You don't mind my cigar, do you, Miss Sharp?" Miss Sharp loved the smell of a cigar out of doors beyond everything in the world--and she just tasted one too, in the prettiest way possible, and gave a little puff, and a little scream, and a little giggle, and restored the delicacy to the Captain, who twirled his moustache, and straightway puffed it into a blaze that glowed quite red in the dark plantation, and swore--"Jove--aw--Gad--aw--it's the finest segaw I ever smoked in the world aw," for his intellect and conversation were alike brilliant and becoming to a heavy young dragoon. Old Sir Pitt, who was taking his pipe and beer, and talking to John Horrocks about a "ship" that was to be killed, espied the pair so occupied from his study-window, and with dreadful oaths swore that if it wasn't for Miss Crawley, he'd take Rawdon and bundle un out of doors, like a rogue as he was. "He be a bad'n, sure enough," Mr. Horrocks remarked; "and his man Flethers is wuss, and have made such a row in the housekeeper's room about the dinners and hale, as no lord would make--but I think Miss Sharp's a match for'n, Sir Pitt," he added, after a pause. And so, in truth, she was--for father and son too. 第 十 一 章    纯朴的田园风味     大厦里的老实人天性质朴,具有庄家人纯洁可爱的品质,可见乡居比住在城里好.除了这些人以外,我还要给读者介绍他们的本家,也就是他们的邻居,别德.克劳莱牧师和他的太太.     别德.克劳莱牧师戴着宽边教士帽子,身材高大,样子很威风.他成天欢天喜地,在区里比他哥哥有人缘得多.在牛津读书的时候,他是耶稣堂大学里的摇船健将,牛津镇上最利害的拳手都打不过他.他始终喜欢拳击和各种运动,办完公事之后仍旧爱干这些勾当.远近二十哩以内,如果有比拳.赛跑.赛马.赛船.跳舞会.竞选.圣母访问节祭献(七月二日纪念圣母玛丽亚访问伊利莎白的节期.),或是丰盛的宴会,他准会想法子参加.他和区里有身份的人都很亲密;如果在弗特尔斯登.洛克斯别.活泊夏脱大厦,或是随便什么贵人家里有宴会,在二十哩外就能看见牧师寓所里出来的栗色母马和马车上的大灯了.他的声音很动听,人家听他唱《南风吹动云满天》和歌词的重复句里面那"呼"的一声,没有不喝彩的.他常常穿了灰黑花纹的上装,带着猎狗出去打猎,钓鱼的技术在本区也算得上最高明的.     牧师夫人克劳莱太太是个短小精悍的女人,贤明的牧师讲道时用的稿子全是她写的.她热心家务,带着女儿们一起管家,所以宅子里上下由她作主.她很聪明,外面的事情任凭丈夫裁夺.丈夫爱什么时候回家,什么时候出门,她绝不干涉.即使他老在外面吃饭也没有关系.克劳莱太太向来精打细算,知道市上葡萄酒卖多少价钱.她是好人家出身,她父亲就是已经去世的海克多.麦克泰维希中将.当年别德还是女王的克劳莱的年轻牧师,她跟她妈妈在海罗该脱地方用计策抓住了他.结婚以后她一直又谨慎又俭省,可是虽然她那么小心,牧师仍旧老是背着债.他爸爸活着的时候,他在大学里就欠下了许多账,少说也费了十年才付清.在一七九......那年,这些债刚了清,他又跟人打赌,把一百镑(二十镑的码)赌人家一镑,说袋鼠决不会得那年大赛马香槟,结果袋鼠却跑了第一名.牧师没法,只能出了重利钱借债填补亏空,从此便拮据不堪.他的姐姐有时送他一百镑救救急,不过他最大的希望当然是她的遗产.牧师常说:"玛蒂尔达死了以后,一定会给我一半财产的,哼!"     这样看起来,从男爵和他弟弟在各方面都有理由成为冤家对头.在许多数不清的家庭纠葛之中,毕脱爵士都占了上风.小毕脱非但不打猎,而且就在他叔叔的教区里设立了一个传道的会堂.大家都知道,克劳莱小姐大部分的财产将来都要传给罗登.这些银钱上的交易,生前死后的各种打算,为承继遗产引起的暗斗,在名利场中都是使兄弟不和睦的原因.我自己就看见两兄弟为着五镑钱生了嫌隙,把五十年来的手足情分都冷淡了.我一想到那些汲汲于名利的人,相互之间的友谊多么经久,多么完美,不得不佩服他们.     利蓓加这么一个人物到了女王的克劳莱,而且慢慢的赢得了宅子里每个人的欢心,别德.克劳莱太太岂有不注意的呢?别德夫人知道一只牛腿在大厦吃几天,每次大扫除要换多少被单窗帘桌布,南墙边一共有多少桃儿,爵士夫人生了病一天吃几服药等等.在乡下,有些人的确把这些小节看得十分重要.别德太太这样的人,又怎么能轻轻放过大厦请来的女教师,不把她的底细和为人打听打听清楚呢?大厦和牧师住宅两家的佣人很有交情,只要大厦里有人来,牧师家的厨房里总预备了好麦酒请客.大厦里的佣人平时喝的酒淡薄得很;他家每桶啤酒用多少麦芽,牧师太太也知道.两家的佣人像他们的东家一样彼此关心,两边的消息,也就由他们沟通.这条公理到处可以应用:你如果跟你兄弟和睦,他的动静不在你心上,反倒是和他吵过架以后,你才留心他的来踪去迹,仿佛你在做眼线侦察他的秘密.     利蓓加上任不久,别德太太从大厦收来的报告书上就经常有她的名字了.报告是这样的:"黑猪杀掉了;一共有多少重,两边的肋条腌着吃;晚饭吃猪腿和猪肉布丁.克兰浦先生从墨特白莱来了以后,又跟毕脱爵士一块儿走了,为的是把约翰.勃兰克莫下监牢.毕脱先生到会堂去聚会(所有到会的人的名字一一都有).太太还是老样子;小姐们跟着女教师."     后来的报告中又提到她,说是新教师能干着呢.毕脱爵士真喜欢她,克劳莱先生也喜欢她,还读传教小册子给她听.这位爱打听.爱管事.小矮个子.紫棠色面皮的别德.克劳莱太太一听这话,便说道:"这不要脸的东西!"     最后的消息说那女教师笼络得人人喜欢她.她替毕脱爵士写信,办事,算账;在屋里就算她大;太太.克劳莱先生.两个姑娘,都听她的话.克劳莱太太立刻断定她是个诡计多端的死丫头,肚子里不知打什么鬼主意呢!这样,大厦里的一言一动都成了牧师宅子里谈话的资料.别德太太两眼炯炯,把敌人营盘里发生的事情看得清清楚楚.不但如此,她还把没有发生的事也看了去了.     别德.克劳莱太太写了一封信到契息克林荫道给平克顿小姐,内容如下:     女王的克劳莱教区礼拜堂.十二月......日     亲爱的平克顿女士......自从离校之后,已经许多年得不到您的又有益处只有趣味的教诲了.可是我对于校长和契息克母校的敬爱始终没有改变,我希望您身体安康.为世界的前途和教育事业的前途着想,平克顿女士的贡献是不可少的,望您多多保养,为大家多服务几年.我的朋友弗特尔斯顿爵士夫人说起要为她的女儿们请一个女教师,我忙说:"这件事,除了请教那位举世无双的,了不起的平克顿女士之外,还能请教谁呢?"我经济能力不够,不能为我自己的孩子请家庭教师,可是我究竟是契息克的老学生呀!总之一句,亲爱的校长,能否请您为我的好朋友,我的邻居,举荐一位女教师呢?她除了您挑选的人之外,谁都不相信.     我亲爱的丈夫说他喜欢一切从平克顿女校出来的人.我真希望能教我的丈夫和女儿们见见我幼年时代的朋友,连那伟大的字汇学家都佩服的朋友!克劳莱先生要我特别致意,如果您到汉泊郡来,请务必光临寒舍.我们虽是寒微,家庭里的感情却很融洽.     敬爱你的     玛莎.克劳莱     附言　克劳莱先生的哥哥,那位从男爵(可叹得很,他和我们意见不合,缺乏应有的手足之情)为他的女儿请了一位女教师.据说她侥幸也在契息克受过教育.我已经听到不少关于她的传闻.我对于这两个亲爱的小侄女非常的关切,虽然我们两家有些意见,我仍旧希望她们和我的孩子常在一起.再说,凡是您的学生,我是无有不关怀的,所以,亲爱的平克顿女士,可否请你把这位小姐的身世说给我听.看您的面上,我愿意跟她交朋友.     　　以下是平克顿小姐写给别德.克劳莱太太的回信:     契息克约翰逊大厦.一八......年十二月.     亲爱的夫人......大函已经收到,承您过奖,觉得十分荣幸,因此我立刻回复.我在位辛劳服务,以慈母般的精神爱护学生,毕竟唤起了感情上的应和,使我感到极度的满意.同时我发现和蔼可亲的别德.克劳莱太太就是我当年杰出的学生,活泼而多才的玛莎.麦克泰维希小姐,更觉得愉快,您的同窗之中,已经有许多人把她们的女儿交付给我,如果您的小姐也委托给我督促管教,我十二分的欢迎.     请代我向弗特尔斯顿夫人请安致意,我愿将我的朋友德芬小姐和霍葛小姐以通信方式介绍给爵士夫人.     两位小姐对于教授希腊文.拉丁文.初浅的希伯莱文.西班牙文.意大利文.算术.历史.地理,绝对能够胜任.在音乐方面,弹唱并佳,又能独力教授跳舞,不必另请跳舞教师.她们具有自然科学的基本知识,能熟练的运用地球仪.德芬小姐是剑桥大学已故研究员汤姆士.德芬先生的女儿,懂得叙利亚文和宪法纲要.她今年十八岁,外貌极其动人,或许在赫特尔斯顿.弗特尔斯顿爵士府上工作不甚合适.     兰蒂茜亚.霍葛小姐容貌不甚美观.她今年二十九岁,脸有麻点,红发拐腿,眼睛略带斜视.两位小姐品德完美,富有宗教热诚.她们的薪水,当然应该和她们的才艺相称.请代向别德.克劳莱牧师道谢并致敬意.     亲爱的夫人,我是您忠实顺从的仆人     巴巴拉.平克顿     附言　信中提及在国会议员毕脱.克劳莱从男爵府上做家庭教师的夏泼小姐.这人本是我的学生,我也不愿意提起于她不利的话.她面目可憎,可是天生的缺陷不是人力所能挽回的.虽然她的父母声名狼藉(她的父亲本是画师,几次三番窘得一文不名,后来我又听说她的母亲是歌剧院的舞女,使我不胜惊骇),她本人却很有才干.我当年行善收留了她,在这一点上我并不后悔.我所担心的是,不知我收容入校的弃儿,是否会受遗传的影响,像母亲一般无行.据她自己说,她母亲本是伯爵的女儿,在万恶的大革命时流亡来英,然而我发现那个女人下流低贱到无以复加.我相信到目前为止,她的行为还没有舛错,而且显赫的毕脱.克劳莱爵士的家庭环境高尚文雅,决不会使她堕落的.     　　以下是利蓓加.夏泼小姐写给爱米丽亚.赛特笠小姐的信:     这好几个星期以来,我还没有给亲爱的爱米丽亚写过信.反正在这所"沉闷公馆"里(这是我替它想出来的名字),有什么新鲜消息呢?萝卜的收成好不好,肥猪的重量究竟是十三还是十四斯东(相当十四磅.),牲口吃了甜菜合适不合适,这些你也不爱听.从上次写信到现在,过的日子都是一模一样的:早饭前毕脱爵士带着他的铲子散步,我陪着他.早饭后在课堂里上课(名为上课而已).上完课又跟毕脱爵士看案卷,起稿子,都是些关于律师.租约.煤矿.运河的事,如今我算是他的书记了.晚饭后不是听克劳莱先生讲道便是跟从男爵玩双陆.爵士夫人呢,不管我们干哪一种玩意儿,只是不动声色的在旁边瞧着我们.近来她生了病,比从前有意思一点.她一病,公馆里来了个新人,是个年轻的医生.亲爱的,看来姑娘们可以不必发愁了.这位年轻医生对你的一个朋友示意,说是欢迎她做葛劳勃太太,替他的手术间装点装点门面.我对这个胆大妄为的人说,他手术间里用来研药的镀金臼杵已经够好看了,不需要别的装饰.我这块料难道只配做乡下医生的老婆吗?葛劳勃医生碰了这个钉子,生了重病,回家吃了一剂凉药,现在已经大安了.毕脱爵士极其赞成我的主意,大概是生怕丢了他的秘书.再说,这老东西非常喜欢我.他这种人,只有这点儿情感,都拿出来给我了.哼!结婚!而且还跟乡下医生结婚!经过了以前......我也不必多说,反正一个人不能那么快就忘怀过去.咱们再谈谈沉闷公馆吧.     这一阵子家里不再沉闷了.亲爱的,克劳莱小姐带着她的肥马肥狗和肥佣人一起都在这儿.了不起的.有钱的克劳莱小姐有七万镑家私,存了五厘的年息.两个弟弟可真爱她......我还不如说真爱她的钱.这好人儿看上去很容易中风,怪不得弟弟们着急.他们抢着替她搁靠垫.递咖啡的样儿才叫有意思!她很幽默,说道:"我到乡下来的时候,就让那成天巴结我的布立葛丝小姐留在城里.反正到了这儿有两个弟弟来拍我的马屁.他们俩真是一对儿!"     她一下乡,厅门就敞着.这一个多月来,真好像华尔泊尔老爵士复活了.我们老是请客,出门的时候坐着四匹马拉的车子,听差们也换上最新的淡黄号衣.我们常常喝红酒和香槟,仿佛是家常便酒.课堂里点了蜡烛,生了火.大家劝克劳莱夫人穿上她所有的衣服里面最鲜艳的豆绿袍子.我的学生们也脱下紧绷绷的旧格子外衣和粗笨的鞋子,换上薄纱衣服和丝袜子,这才像从男爵家里出来的时髦小姐.昨天露丝大出丑.她的宝贝,那威尔脱郡出产的大黑母猪,把她撞倒在地上,还在她的衣服上乱跳乱踩,把一件漂亮的丁香花纹绸衫子糟蹋了.这件事如果在一星期以前发生,毕脱爵士准会恶狠狠的咒骂一顿,打那小可怜儿几下耳刮子,然后罚她一个月里面只许喝淡水吃白面包.昨天他一笑了之,说道:"等你姑妈走了之后我再来收拾你,"仿佛这是没要紧的小事.希望克劳莱小姐回家之前,他的怒气已经消散了.为露丝小姐着想,我真心这么希望.啊!金钱真是能够消怨息怒的和事佬!     克劳莱小姐和她七万镑家私的好影响,在克劳莱两兄弟的行事上面也看得出来,我指的是从男爵和那牧师,不是咱们在先说的两个.老哥弟俩一年到头你恨我我怨你,如今到了圣诞节忽然亲热起来.关于那可恶的爱跑马的牧师怎么在教堂里借题发挥骂我们家的人,说的话多么不聪明,毕脱爵士怎么自管自打呼噜这些事情,我去年已经告诉你了.克劳莱小姐下乡之后,大家从来不吵架.大厦和牧师宅子两家人你来我往,从男爵和牧师俩谈到猪仔呀,偷野味的小贼呀,区里的公事呀,客气的了不得.我想他们喝醉了酒都不敢拌嘴.克劳莱小姐不准他们闹;她说如果他们两个得罪了她,她就把财产都传给夏洛浦郡的本家.我想夏洛浦郡的克劳莱一家如果机灵点儿,不难把一份家私都抢过去.可是那个克劳莱先生和他汉泊郡的堂兄弟一样,也是牧师.他的道德观念拘泥不化,因此得罪了克劳莱小姐,已经到了无可挽回的局面.她从那边一直逃到这边,把那不听话的堂弟弟恨透了.我猜那边的牧师大概天天晚上在家念经祷告,不肯对克劳莱小姐让步.     克劳莱小姐一到,经本儿都合上了.她最讨厌的毕脱先生也上伦敦去了,因为还是离了家自在些.那年轻的花花公子,那纨�诙�,叫克劳莱上尉的,却回家来了.我想你总愿意知道他是怎么样的一个人.     这纨�谧拥艹さ每�梧奇伟.他身高六尺,声音洪亮,满口里赌神罚誓,把下人们呼来喝去.可是他花钱很大方,所以佣人都喜欢他,对他千依百顺.上星期一个地保带着一个差人从伦敦来逮捕他,躲躲藏藏的闪在园墙边.那些看守猎场的人瞧见了,以为是偷野味的,把他们打了一顿,浸在水里,差点儿没把他们熗毙,总算从男爵出来干涉,才算了事.     我一看就知道上尉瞧着他父亲一文不值.他叫他爸爸乡下人,土老儿,老势利鬼,给他起了许许多多这一类漂亮的诨名儿.他在小姐奶奶队里的声名可怕极了.这一回他带了好几匹马回来,有时就住在本地乡绅家里.他随便请人回家吃饭,毕脱爵士也不敢哼个不字儿,唯恐因此得罪了克劳莱小姐,回头她中风死掉之后财产传不到他手上.你要听上尉奉承我的话吗?他的话说得太好了,我非告诉你不可.一天晚上我们这儿居然举行跳舞会.赫特尔斯顿.弗特尔斯顿爵士一家,杰尔斯.活泊夏脱爵士带着他的好些女儿,还有不知道多少别的人,都来了.我听见上尉说:"喝!这小马儿生得整齐!"他就是指我呢!承他看得起,跟我跳了两回土风舞.他跟本地的公子哥儿玩儿得很高兴,在一块儿骑马,喝酒,赌钱,议论怎么打猎,怎么打熗,可是他说乡下的姑娘都教人腻味.我觉得他这话说得不错.她们对我这小可怜儿的那份骄傲,真说不上来.她们跳舞的时候,我就坐在旁边乖乖的弹琴.前几天晚上,上尉喝得脸上红扑扑的从饭间里进来,看见我在弹琴,便大声咒骂,说是屋里的人谁也没有我跳舞跳得好.说着他又恶毒毒的发誓,说他要到墨特白莱去叫一班琴师来.     别德太太立刻接上来说:"让我来弹一支土风舞的曲子."她是个紫棠脸皮的小老太婆,裹着包头布,眼睛里闪闪发亮,相当的滑头.上尉和你那可怜的利蓓加跳完舞之后,她竟然赏我好大的面子,称赞我舞艺高明.这可是空前的大事.骄傲的别德.克劳莱太太是铁帕托夫伯爵的嫡堂姊妹,除了大姑下乡的时候,向来不肯屈尊拜访克劳莱爵士夫人.可怜的克劳莱夫人!大家在底下寻欢作乐,她大半的时候都在楼上吃丸药.     别德.克劳莱太太忽然和我好得不得了.她说:"亲爱的夏泼小姐,干吗不带着孩子们上我们家里来玩儿?她们的堂姐姐堂妹妹倒怪想念她们的."我懂得她的意思.当年克莱曼蒂先生没有白教咱们弹琴,如今别德太太要想给自己的孩子请个跟他一样有身价的钢琴教师呢!她的算盘我全看穿了,就好像是她亲口告诉我的一样.话虽这么说,我还是准备到她家里去,因为我打定主意要和气待人.无亲无友的穷教师还能不随和儿一点吗?牧师太太奉承我二十来次,夸奖我的学生进步怎么快.她准以为这样就能叫我感动.可怜这头脑简单的乡下佬!她还以为我心上有这两个学生呢.     最亲爱的爱米丽亚,人家说我穿上你的印度纱袍子和粉红绸衫子很好看.衣服穿得很旧了,可是穷女孩子哪里能够常常换新衣服呢?你真好福气,缺什么,只要坐车到圣.詹姆士街,你亲爱的妈妈就会给你买.再见,亲爱的朋友!     爱你的     利蓓加     附言　罗登上尉挑我做舞伴的时候,那几位勃拉克勃鲁克小姐们脸上的表情哪,可惜你瞧不见!亲爱的,她们是勃拉克勃鲁克海军上将的女儿,长得挺漂亮,还穿了伦敦买来的衣服呢.     夏泼小姐答应到牧师家里去作客之后,别德.克劳莱太太(她的计策已经给伶俐的利蓓加看穿了)想法子请权势盖天的克劳莱小姐向毕脱爵士说情,因为这一层是不可少的.好性子的老太太自己爱热闹,也喜欢身旁的人快乐高兴,听了这话非常合意,愿意出面给弟弟们调停,让双方亲亲热热过日子.大家说好叫两家的孩子多多来往.他们的友谊当然一直维持到那兴致勃勃的和事佬离开之后才破裂.     牧师夫妇穿过园地回家的时候,牧师对他太太说道:"你干吗请罗登.克劳莱那混帐东西来吃饭?我可不要他来.他瞧不起咱们乡下人,仿佛咱们是没开化的黑人似的.而且他不喝我那种盖黄印的酒再也不肯罢休,真是混蛋,那种酒十先令一瓶呢!他无恶不作,狂饮滥赌,是个十足道地的荒唐鬼.他跟人决斗闹出人命案子来.他背了一身的债.克劳莱小姐的家私里面咱们的那一份儿也给他闹掉了.华克息说的......"牧师说到这里,对着月亮晃晃拳头,口里念念有词,很像在赌咒骂人,然后恨恨的说道:"......她在遗嘱里面写得明白,五万镑都给他,剩下的不过三万镑给咱们家里的人分."     牧师太太说道:"我想她也快不行了.吃完晚饭的时候她脸上红得利害,我只能把她的内衣都解开."     牧师低声说道:"她喝了七杯香槟酒.那香槟酒真糟糕,我哥哥是存心要把咱们大家都毒死.你们女人真是好歹不分."     别德.克劳莱太太答道:"我们什么都不懂."     牧师接下去说道:"晚饭后她又喝樱桃白兰地酒.咖啡里面又搀了橘子酒.那种东西喝下去心里要发烧的,你白给我五镑钱我也不喝.克劳莱太太,她的身子一定受不了,血肉做的人哪里挡得住这样的糟蹋呢?她准会死!我跟你五对二打赌,玛蒂尔达活不满一年."     牧师和他太太一路回家,一面心里筹划着这些要紧事.他们想到家里的债务,想到两个儿子,杰姆在大学读书,弗兰克在乌利治陆军军官学校,此外还有四个女儿.可怜的女孩儿们长得都不好看,而且除了姑婆的遗产之外一个子儿的嫁妆也没有.     半晌,克劳莱牧师接下去道:"毕脱会不会把我这牧师的位置卖出去不给咱们的孩子?我看他不能这么混帐黑心吧?他那脓包的大儿子,那监理会教徒,一心只想做议员."     牧师太太答道:"毕脱.克劳莱什么都做得出来,咱们应该想法子请克劳莱小姐叫他答应把牧师的位置留给詹姆士."     从男爵的弟弟说道:"毕脱一定什么都答应下来.我爸爸去世的时候,他答应给我还大学里欠的债.后来又答应在咱们房子上加造庇屋,又答应把吉勃种的地和六亩场给我......这些事他做了没有!玛蒂尔达还偏要把大半的财产都给他的儿子......给罗登.克劳莱那个混蛋,赌鬼,骗子,凶手!这简直不像基督教徒做出来的事.天哪,真不像个基督教徒啊!那混蛋的狗头什么坏处都占全了,就差不像他哥哥那样是个假道学."     他的太太打断他说:"亲爱的,别说了,咱们这会儿还在他的园地上呢."     "克劳莱太太,我偏要说!他可不是什么坏处都占全了吗?别欺负我,太太!难道他没把马克上尉一熗打死吗?在可可树俱乐部里他不是骗了德芙戴尔小勋爵的钱吗?毕尔.索姆士和却希亚地方的大好佬两个人比拳,他来一搅和,他们两个没能够公公道道打一架,我就输了四十镑钱.这些事你全知道.他跟那些女人闹的丑事,你比我先知道.在地方官屋子里......"     他的太太道:"克劳莱先生,看老天的面子,别跟我细说吧!"     牧师气呼呼的说道:"你还会把这种混帐行子请到家里来!你,你有年轻的儿女,你还是国教教会牧师的太太.哼!"     牧师太太轻蔑地说道:"别德.克劳莱,你是个糊涂蛋."     "好吧,太太,先别提糊涂不糊涂的事......当然我没有你聪明,玛莎,我向来没说过自己比你聪明.可是干脆一句话,我不愿意招待罗登.克劳莱.他来的那天我就上赫特尔斯顿家里去瞧他的黑猎狗去,克劳莱太太,我非去不可!我愿意下五十镑注,叫咱们的兰斯洛德跟那黑狗赛跑.喝!全英国的狗没有一条比得上兰斯洛德.总之我不愿意招待罗登.克劳莱那畜生."     他的太太答道:"克劳莱先生,你又喝醉了."第二天早上,牧师醒过来,要喝淡啤酒.牧师太太就提醒他,说他早已答应星期六去看望赫特尔斯顿.弗特尔斯顿爵士.去了岂有不喝一夜酒的理呢?所以他太太和他约好,在星期日上教堂以前必须骑马赶回来.你看,克劳莱教区里的老百姓真好运气,碰上的牧师和地主都是一样的宝贝.     克劳莱小姐在大厦住下不久,利蓓加就赢得了她的欢心.这位性情随和.行事荒唐的伦敦人也像我在先描写过的乡下佬一样,着了她的迷.克劳莱小姐惯常坐了马车出去兜风.有一天,承她叫"那教书的"陪她一块儿到墨特白莱去.她们回家以前,利蓓加已经把她收服,因为她引得老太太一路高兴,一共笑了四回.     毕脱爵士正式大请客,邀了邻近所有的从男爵来家吃饭.老太太对他说:"什么?不教夏泼小姐一块儿吃饭?亲爱的,难道叫我跟弗特尔斯顿夫人谈她的孩子,跟那糊涂蛋杰尔斯.活泊夏脱谈他法院里的事情不成?我非要夏泼小姐出来不可,如果人多坐不下,让克劳莱夫人在楼上吃饭得了.夏泼小姐怎么能不出来?一区里就是她一个人可以跟我谈几句."     这么专制的号令一出来,当然只能叫女教师夏泼小姐到楼下和许多贵客同桌子吃饭.赫特尔斯顿一大套虚文俗礼,把克劳莱小姐扶进饭厅,便准备在她旁边坐下去,老太太立刻尖声叫道:"蓓基.夏泼!夏泼小姐!过来坐在这儿陪我说话儿,让赫特尔斯顿爵士傍着活泊夏脱夫人坐."     克劳莱小姐听蓓基说话,永远听不厌,等到宴会完毕,一辆辆马车走远之后,她便说:"蓓基,到我梳妆室里来.咱们一起把客人们痛骂一顿."这一对朋友骂得真痛快!赫特尔斯顿老爵士在吃饭的时候唏哩呼噜的喘气;杰尔斯.活泊夏脱爵士索洛洛的喝汤;他的太太老是眨巴左眼皮.蓓基添油加酱,把这些人摹仿得淋漓尽致.大家谈话的琐碎细节,发表的意见,关于政治.战事.法庭每季开庭的情况,汉泊郡的猎狗出猎的有名故事,以及一切乡下地主喜欢谈的沉闷的题目,也是给蓓基说笑的资料.活泊夏脱小姐们的打扮和弗特尔斯顿夫人的黄帽子,更给她挖苦得一文不值.老太太听了喜欢得无以复加.     克劳莱小姐常说:"亲爱的,你真是个天上掉下来的宝贝.我真恨不得带你到伦敦去,可是我不能把你当布立葛丝一样的可怜虫,老是欺负你.你这小滑头,哪会给人欺负呢!你太聪明了,孚金,你说对不对?"     孚金姑娘正在梳理克劳莱小姐头上几根稀稀朗朗的头发,听了这话,扬起脸儿说道:"小姐真是聪明极了."她说话的时候样子尖刻得刺人,原来孚金和一切正经女人一样,天生会拈酸吃醋,而且把这件事当她的本分.     克劳莱小姐自从赶开了赫特尔斯顿.弗特尔斯顿爵士之后,天天命令罗登.克劳莱扶她进饭厅,又叫蓓基拿了靠垫在后面跟着......再不然就是蓓基扶着她,罗登给她拿靠垫.她说:"咱们非得坐在一块儿不可.亲爱的,本区里只有咱们三个算得上基督教徒."这样看来,汉泊郡的宗教气氛准是淡薄到极点了.     克劳莱小姐非但虔信宗教,见解也特别新,并且一有机会就坦直的发表自己的意见.她常跟利蓓加说:"亲爱的,一个人的家世可算什么呢?你瞧瞧我的弟弟毕脱,那可怜的牧师别德,还有弗特尔斯顿一家,他们还算从亨利第二在位的时候就住在此地的呢!这些人里头谁比得上你的脑子,你的教养?别说是你,连给我作伴的布立葛丝那老好人和我的总管鲍尔斯都比他们强些.亲爱的,你是个绝品的人才,珍珠宝贝一样的贵重,把本区里一半人的聪明合并起来还赶不上你呢.如果好人有好报的话,你该做到公爵夫人才对......我说错了,世界上压根儿不该有什么公爵夫人.反正你是应该在万人之上的.亲爱的,无论在哪一方面,我都认为你跟我完全平等.亲爱的,在火上加点儿煤好吗?请你把这件衣服给我拆了改一改,你的针线真好."这位有年纪的慈善家就这么使唤跟她平等的人,叫利蓓加替她跑腿,做衣服,天天晚上读法国小说给她听,一直读到她睡着为止.     年纪大些的读者一定还记得,正在那个时候,上流社会里发生了两件哄动人心的事情.如果用报纸文章的口气来说,这两件事情给那些穿长袍的先生们添了工作(指牧师.法官之类的人.).第一件是白蓓兰.菲左丝小姐,勃鲁因伯爵的女儿,并且是他的财产承继人,跟歇夫登旗手私奔结婚.另一件是关于一位维厄.威恩先生的事;可怜的威恩先生一向做人稳健,家里一大堆孩子,活到四十岁,忽然荒唐起来,跟一个年纪六十五岁叫罗琪梦太太的女戏子离家出走.     克劳莱小姐说:"纳尔逊勋爵(十八世纪英国海军大将.他的情妇海密尔顿夫人是当年有名的美人.她和海密尔顿爵士结婚之前只是个高等妓女.她挥霍成性,虽然得了海密尔顿爵士和纳尔逊将军两份遗产,老来仍旧穷愁潦倒.)结识的相好真是祸水.这件事就把他品性里最优美的一面显出来了.一个男人肯做这样的事,就表示他这人不错.我喜欢门户不相当的婚姻.最妙的莫过于看着贵族娶个磨坊主人的姑娘做太太,像福拉安台尔勋爵那样,把那些女的气得要命.我希望有个大人物来跟你私奔,亲爱的,反正你长得够美的."     利蓓加附和着说:"像两个赶车的一样溜之大吉.那真太妙了!"     "其次,我爱看穷光蛋拐了有钱小姐私奔.我一直盼望罗登私奔结婚."     "跟穷人私奔还是跟有钱人私奔呢?"     "你这傻瓜!罗登除了我给他的钱以外一个子儿都没有的.他浑身是债,所以非常想法子补救补救,也好博个有名有利."     利蓓加问道:"他能干吗?"     "能干?亲爱的,除了他的马和他的部队,除了打猎,赌钱,他什么都不懂.我非得想法子帮他显声扬名不可,因为他实在混帐得讨人喜欢.你知道吗?他一熗打死一个人,又对那伤心的爸爸开了一熗,可是只打中他的帽子.他部队里的人都喜欢他.在华典挨咖啡馆,可可树俱乐部,那些小伙子都对他心悦诚服呢."     利蓓加.夏泼小姐写给好朋友的信里曾经提到女王的克劳莱大厦里怎么开了一个小小的跳舞会,克劳莱上尉第一次怎么挑中她做舞伴等等情形,可是说来奇怪,她信里的话和事实并不附合.上尉早已请她跳过好几回舞.散步的时候,她常常碰见上尉,总有十来次.在走廊上过道里,她老是和上尉拍面相撞,又有五十来次.晚上她弹琴唱歌(克劳莱爵士夫人病在楼上没人理会)......她弹琴唱歌,上尉在钢琴旁边恋恋不舍的来回又走了二十来次.上尉还写给她好几封短信.这傻大个儿的骑兵费尽心思做文章和改别字.说实话,头脑迟钝和其他别的品质没有什么不同,一般也能够讨女人喜欢.第一回,他把便条夹在唱歌书里给她,哪知道女教师站起身来,一眼不眨的瞧着他,把叠成三角形的信纸轻轻悄悄捡起来,当它帽子似的摇来晃去,然后走到那冤家面前,把便条往火上一撩,对他深深屈膝行了个礼,重新回到原位上唱起歌来,而且唱得比以前更起劲.     克劳莱小姐饭后正在打盹儿,音乐一停,她醒过来问道:"怎么了?"     利蓓加笑道:"音调有些不协调."罗登听了又气又羞,心里直冒火.     别德.克劳莱太太心地真好,她看见克劳莱小姐明明白白表示喜欢新来的教师,并不妒忌,反而把她请到家里去玩.非但这样,她还请了罗登.克劳莱,虽然罗登是她丈夫的对头,把老小姐的五厘钱年息分掉一大半.克劳莱牧师太太和她的侄儿感情十分融洽.罗登不打猎,不到弗特尔斯顿家里去应酬,不到墨特白莱军营里去吃饭,只喜欢散步到牧师家里去.克劳莱小姐也去.至于两个小女孩儿,她们的妈妈反正在生病,为什么不请夏泼小姐陪着她们一块儿去呢?结果这两个小宝贝儿跟着夏泼小姐也去了.到晚上,爱走路的就走回家.克劳莱小姐是不走路的,宁可坐马车.这条路穿过牧师的园地,出了小小的园门,就是一片黑黝黝的田,然后是一条树荫满地的小径,直通女王的克劳莱大厦.对于上尉和利蓓加小姐这么能欣赏风景的人,这一切在月光底下实在显得迷人.     利蓓加小姐抬起亮晶晶的绿眼珠子,瞧着天上说道:"啊,这些星星,这些星星!我瞧着瞧着就仿佛自己成了仙."     她的同伴也在热心欣赏,接口道:"喔!啊!老天爷!对!我也是那么想,夏泼小姐.你不讨厌我抽雪茄烟吧,夏泼小姐?"夏泼小姐回说在露天,再没有比雪茄烟味儿更好闻的了.说完,她拿烟卷儿来尝了一口.她抽烟的姿势真好看,轻轻的一抽,低低的叫了一声,然后吱吱的笑着把美味的雪茄烟还给上尉.上尉捻着胡子,抽了一大口烟.烟头立刻发出红光,衬着黝黑的田地,越发显得亮.他赌着咒说道:"天爷,喔!上帝,喔!我一生没抽过这么好的雪茄,喔!"由此看来,他智力超群,谈吐精采,像他这般年轻力壮的骑兵,能这样最好.     毕脱老爵士正在书房里抽烟斗喝啤酒,和约翰.霍洛克斯谈论宰羊的问题.他从窗口看见他们一对在说话抽烟,恶狠狠的肆口咒骂,说他如果不看克劳莱小姐面上,立刻把罗登这流氓赶出去.     霍洛克斯先生答道:"他不是个好东西.他的佣人弗立契斯更混帐.他在管家娘子房里大吵大闹,因为饭菜和啤酒不够好.有身分的大爷都没他那么利害."过了一会儿,他接下去说:"我想夏泼小姐是他的对手,毕脱爵士."     这话说得很对,她是爸爸的对手,也是儿子的对手.

CHAPTER XII Quite a Sentimental Chapter We must now take leave of Arcadia, and those amiable people practising the rural virtues there, and travel back to London, to inquire what has become of Miss Amelia "We don't care a fig for her," writes some unknown correspondent with a pretty little handwriting and a pink seal to her note. "She is fade and insipid," and adds some more kind remarks in this strain, which I should never have repeated at all, but that they are in truth prodigiously complimentary to the young lady whom they concern. Has the beloved reader, in his experience of society, never heard similar remarks by good-natured female friends; who always wonder what you CAN see in Miss Smith that is so fascinating; or what COULD induce Major Jones to propose for that silly insignificant simpering Miss Thompson, who has nothing but her wax-doll face to recommend her? What is there in a pair of pink cheeks and blue eyes forsooth? these dear Moralists ask, and hint wisely that the gifts of genius, the accomplishments of the mind, the mastery of Mangnall's Questions, and a ladylike knowledge of botany and geology, the knack of making poetry, the power of rattling sonatas in the Herz-manner, and so forth, are far more valuable endowments for a female, than those fugitive charms which a few years will inevitably tarnish. It is quite edifying to hear women speculate upon the worthlessness and the duration of beauty. But though virtue is a much finer thing, and those hapless creatures who suffer under the misfortune of good looks ought to be continually put in mind of the fate which awaits them; and though, very likely, the heroic female character which ladies admire is a more glorious and beautiful object than the kind, fresh, smiling, artless, tender little domestic goddess, whom men are inclined to worship--yet the latter and inferior sort of women must have this consolation--that the men do admire them after all; and that, in spite of all our kind friends' warnings and protests, we go on in our desperate error and folly, and shall to the end of the chapter. Indeed, for my own part, though I have been repeatedly told by persons for whom I have the greatest respect, that Miss Brown is an insignificant chit, and Mrs. White has nothing but her petit minois chiffonne, and Mrs. Black has not a word to say for herself; yet I know that I have had the most delightful conversations with Mrs. Black (of course, my dear Madam, they are inviolable): I see all the men in a cluster round Mrs. White's chair: all the young fellows battling to dance with Miss Brown; and so I am tempted to think that to be despised by her sex is a very great compliment to a woman. The young ladies in Amelia's society did this for her very satisfactorily. For instance, there was scarcely any point upon which the Misses Osborne, George's sisters, and the Mesdemoiselles Dobbin agreed so well as in their estimate of her very trifling merits: and their wonder that their brothers could find any charms in her. "We are kind to her," the Misses Osborne said, a pair of fine black-browed young ladies who had had the best of governesses, masters, and milliners; and they treated her with such extreme kindness and condescension, and patronised her so insufferably, that the poor little thing was in fact perfectly dumb in their presence, and to all outward appearance as stupid as they thought her. She made efforts to like them, as in duty bound, and as sisters of her future husband. She passed "long mornings" with them--the most dreary and serious of forenoons. She drove out solemnly in their great family coach with them, and Miss Wirt their governess, that raw-boned Vestal. They took her to the ancient concerts by way of a treat, and to the oratorio, and to St. Paul's to see the charity children, where in such terror was she of her friends, she almost did not dare be affected by the hymn the children sang. Their house was comfortable; their papa's table rich and handsome; their society solemn and genteel; their self-respect prodigious; they had the best pew at the Foundling: all their habits were pompous and orderly, and all their amusements intolerably dull and decorous. After every one of her visits (and oh how glad she was when they were over!) Miss Osborne and Miss Maria Osborne, and Miss Wirt, the vestal governess, asked each other with increased wonder, "What could George find in that creature?" How is this? some carping reader exclaims. How is it that Amelia, who had such a number of friends at school, and was so beloved there, comes out into the world and is spurned by her discriminating sex? My dear sir, there were no men at Miss Pinkerton's establishment except the old dancing-master; and you would not have had the girls fall out about HIM? When George, their handsome brother, ran off directly after breakfast, and dined from home half- a-dozen times a week, no wonder the neglected sisters felt a little vexation. When young Bullock (of the firm of Hulker, Bullock & Co., Bankers, Lombard Street), who had been making up to Miss Maria the last two seasons, actually asked Amelia to dance the cotillon, could you expect that the former young lady should be pleased? And yet she said she was, like an artless forgiving creature. "I'm so delighted you like dear Amelia," she said quite eagerly to Mr. Bullock after the dance. "She's engaged to my brother George; there's not much in her, but she's the best-natured and most unaffected young creature: at home we're all so fond of her." Dear girl! who can calculate the depth of affection expressed in that enthusiastic SO? Miss Wirt and these two affectionate young women so earnestly and frequently impressed upon George Osborne's mind the enormity of the sacrifice he was making, and his romantic generosity in throwing himself away upon Amelia, that I'm not sure but that he really thought he was one of the most deserving characters in the British army, and gave himself up to be loved with a good deal of easy resignation. Somehow, although he left home every morning, as was stated, and dined abroad six days in the week, when his sisters believed the infatuated youth to be at Miss Sedley's apron-strings: he was NOT always with Amelia, whilst the world supposed him at her feet. Certain it is that on more occasions than one, when Captain Dobbin called to look for his friend, Miss Osborne (who was very attentive to the Captain, and anxious to hear his military stories, and to know about the health of his dear Mamma), would laughingly point to the opposite side of the square, and say, "Oh, you must go to the Sedleys' to ask for George; WE never see him from morning till night." At which kind of speech the Captain would laugh in rather an absurd constrained manner, and turn off the conversation, like a consummate man of the world, to some topic of general interest, such as the Opera, the Prince's last ball at Carlton House, or the weather--that blessing to society. "What an innocent it is, that pet of yours," Miss Maria would then say to Miss Jane, upon the Captain's departure. "Did you see how he blushed at the mention of poor George on duty?" "It's a pity Frederick Bullock hadn't some of his modesty, Maria," replies the elder sister, with a toss of he head. "Modesty! Awkwardness you mean, Jane. I don't want Frederick to trample a hole in my muslin frock, as Captain Dobbin did in yours at Mrs. Perkins'." "In YOUR frock, he, he! How could he? Wasn't he dancing with Amelia?" The fact is, when Captain Dobbin blushed so, and looked so awkward, he remembered a circumstance of which he did not think it was necessary to inform the young ladies, viz., that he had been calling at Mr. Sedley's house already, on the pretence of seeing George, of course, and George wasn't there, only poor little Amelia, with rather a sad wistful face, seated near the drawing-room window, who, after some very trifling stupid talk, ventured to ask, was there any truth in the report that the regiment was soon to be ordered abroad; and had Captain Dobbin seen Mr. Osborne that day? The regiment was not ordered abroad as yet; and Captain Dobbin had not seen George. "He was with his sister, most likely," the Captain said. "Should he go and fetch the truant?" So she gave him her hand kindly and gratefully: and he crossed the square; and she waited and waited, but George never came. Poor little tender heart! and so it goes on hoping and beating, and longing and trusting. You see it is not much of a life to describe. There is not much of what you call incident in it. Only one feeling all day--when will he come? only one thought to sleep and wake upon. I believe George was playing billiards with Captain Cannon in Swallow Street at the time when Amelia was asking Captain Dobbin about him; for George was a jolly sociable fellow, and excellent in all games of skill. Once, after three days of absence, Miss Amelia put on her bonnet, and actually invaded the Osborne house. "What! leave our brother to come to us?" said the young ladies. "Have you had a quarrel, Amelia? Do tell us!" No, indeed, there had been no quarrel. "Who could quarrel with him?" says she, with her eyes filled with tears. She only came over to--to see her dear friends; they had not met for so long. And this day she was so perfectly stupid and awkward, that the Misses Osborne and their governess, who stared after her as she went sadly away, wondered more than ever what George could see in poor little Amelia. Of course they did. How was she to bare that timid little heart for the inspection of those young ladies with their bold black eyes? It was best that it should shrink and hide itself. I know the Misses Osborne were excellent critics of a Cashmere shawl, or a pink satin slip; and when Miss Turner had hers dyed purple, and made into a spencer; and when Miss Pickford had her ermine tippet twisted into a muff and trimmings, I warrant you the changes did not escape the two intelligent young women before mentioned. But there are things, look you, of a finer texture than fur or satin, and all Solomon's glories, and all the wardrobe of the Queen of Sheba--things whereof the beauty escapes the eyes of many connoisseurs. And there are sweet modest little souls on which you light, fragrant and blooming tenderly in quiet shady places; and there are garden-ornaments, as big as brass warming-pans, that are fit to stare the sun itself out of countenance. Miss Sedley was not of the sunflower sort; and I say it is out of the rules of all proportion to draw a violet of the size of a double dahlia. No, indeed; the life of a good young girl who is in the paternal nest as yet, can't have many of those thrilling incidents to which the heroine of romance commonly lays claim. Snares or shot may take off the old birds foraging without--hawks may be abroad, from which they escape or by whom they suffer; but the young ones in the nest have a pretty comfortable unromantic sort of existence in the down and the straw, till it comes to their turn, too, to get on the wing. While Becky Sharp was on her own wing in the country, hopping on all sorts of twigs, and amid a multiplicity of traps, and pecking up her food quite harmless and successful, Amelia lay snug in her home of Russell Square; if she went into the world, it was under the guidance of the elders; nor did it seem that any evil could befall her or that opulent cheery comfortable home in which she was affectionately sheltered. Mamma had her morning duties, and her daily drive, and the delightful round of visits and shopping which forms the amusement, or the profession as you may call it, of the rich London lady. Papa conducted his mysterious operations in the City--a stirring place in those days, when war was raging all over Europe, and empires were being staked; when the "Courier" newspaper had tens of thousands of subscribers; when one day brought you a battle of Vittoria, another a burning of Moscow, or a newsman's horn blowing down Russell Square about dinner-time, announced such a fact as--"Battle of Leipsic--six hundred thousand men engaged--total defeat of the French--two hundred thousand killed." Old Sedley once or twice came home with a very grave face; and no wonder, when such news as this was agitating all the hearts and all the Stocks of Europe. Meanwhile matters went on in Russell Square, Bloomsbury, just as if matters in Europe were not in the least disorganised. The retreat from Leipsic made no difference in the number of meals Mr. Sambo took in the servants' hall; the allies poured into France, and the dinner-bell rang at five o'clock just as usual. I don't think poor Amelia cared anything about Brienne and Montmirail, or was fairly interested in the war until the abdication of the Emperor; when she clapped her hands and said prayers--oh, how grateful! and flung herself into George Osborne's arms with all her soul, to the astonishment of everybody who witnessed that ebullition of sentiment. The fact is, peace was declared, Europe was going to be at rest; the Corsican was overthrown, and Lieutenant Osborne's regiment would not be ordered on service. That was the way in which Miss Amelia reasoned. The fate of Europe was Lieutenant George Osborne to her. His dangers being over, she sang Te Deum. He was her Europe: her emperor: her allied monarchs and august prince regent. He was her sun and moon; and I believe she thought the grand illumination and ball at the Mansion House, given to the sovereigns, were especially in honour of George Osborne. We have talked of shift, self, and poverty, as those dismal instructors under whom poor Miss Becky Sharp got her education. Now, love was Miss Amelia Sedley's last tutoress, and it was amazing what progress our young lady made under that popular teacher. In the course of fifteen or eighteen months' daily and constant attention to this eminent finishing governess, what a deal of secrets Amelia learned, which Miss Wirt and the black-eyed young ladies over the way, which old Miss Pinkerton of Chiswick herself, had no cognizance of! As, indeed, how should any of those prim and reputable virgins? With Misses P. and W. the tender passion is out of the question: I would not dare to breathe such an idea regarding them. Miss Maria Osborne, it is true, was "attached" to Mr. Frederick Augustus Bullock, of the firm of Hulker, Bullock & Bullock; but hers was a most respectable attachment, and she would have taken Bullock Senior just the same, her mind being fixed--as that of a well-bred young woman should be--upon a house in Park Lane, a country house at Wimbledon, a handsome chariot, and two prodigious tall horses and footmen, and a fourth of the annual profits of the eminent firm of Hulker & Bullock, all of which advantages were represented in the person of Frederick Augustus. Had orange blossoms been invented then (those touching emblems of female purity imported by us from France, where people's daughters are universally sold in marriage), Miss Maria, I say, would have assumed the spotless wreath, and stepped into the travelling carriage by the side of gouty, old, bald-headed, bottle-nosed Bullock Senior; and devoted her beautiful existence to his happiness with perfect modesty--only the old gentleman was married already; so she bestowed her young affections on the junior partner. Sweet, blooming, orange flowers! The other day I saw Miss Trotter (that was), arrayed in them, trip into the travelling carriage at St. George's, Hanover Square, and Lord Methuselah hobbled in after. With what an engaging modesty she pulled down the blinds of the chariot--the dear innocent! There were half the carriages of Vanity Fair at the wedding. This was not the sort of love that finished Amelia's education; and in the course of a year turned a good young girl into a good young woman--to be a good wife presently, when the happy time should come. This young person (perhaps it was very imprudent in her parents to encourage her, and abet her in such idolatry and silly romantic ideas) loved, with all her heart, the young officer in His Majesty's service with whom we have made a brief acquaintance. She thought about him the very first moment on waking; and his was the very last name mentioned m her prayers. She never had seen a man so beautiful or so clever: such a figure on horseback: such a dancer: such a hero in general. Talk of the Prince's bow! what was it to George's? She had seen Mr. Brummell, whom everybody praised so. Compare such a person as that to her George! Not amongst all the beaux at the Opera (and there were beaux in those days with actual opera hats) was there any one to equal him. He was only good enough to be a fairy prince; and oh, what magnanimity to stoop to such a humble Cinderella! Miss Pinkerton would have tried to check this blind devotion very likely, had she been Amelia's confidante; but not with much success, depend upon it. It is in the nature and instinct of some women. Some are made to scheme, and some to love; and I wish any respected bachelor that reads this may take the sort that best likes him. While under this overpowering impression, Miss Amelia neglected her twelve dear friends at Chiswick most cruelly, as such selfish people commonly will do. She had but this subject, of course, to think about; and Miss Saltire was too cold for a confidante, and she couldn't bring her mind to tell Miss Swartz, the woolly-haired young heiress from St. Kitt's. She had little Laura Martin home for the holidays; and my belief is, she made a confidante of her, and promised that Laura should come and live with her when she was married, and gave Laura a great deal of information regarding the passion of love, which must have been singularly useful and novel to that little person. Alas, alas! I fear poor Emmy had not a well- regulated mind. What were her parents doing, not to keep this little heart from beating so fast? Old Sedley did not seem much to notice matters. He was graver of late, and his City affairs absorbed him. Mrs. Sedley was of so easy and uninquisitive a nature that she wasn't even jealous. Mr. Jos was away, being besieged by an Irish widow at Cheltenham. Amelia had the house to herself--ah! too much to herself sometimes--not that she ever doubted; for, to be sure, George must be at the Horse Guards; and he can't always get leave from Chatham; and he must see his friends and sisters, and mingle in society when in town (he, such an ornament to every society!); and when he is with the regiment, he is too tired to write long letters. I know where she kept that packet she had--and can steal in and out of her chamber like Iachimo--like Iachimo? No--that is a bad part. I will only act Moonshine, and peep harmless into the bed where faith and beauty and innocence lie dreaming. But if Osborne's were short and soldierlike letters, it must be confessed, that were Miss Sedley's letters to Mr. Osborne to be published, we should have to extend this novel to such a multiplicity of volumes as not the most sentimental reader could support; that she not only filled sheets of large paper, but crossed them with the most astonishing perverseness; that she wrote whole pages out of poetry-books without the least pity; that she underlined words and passages with quite a frantic emphasis; and, in fine, gave the usual tokens of her condition. She wasn't a heroine. Her letters were full of repetition. She wrote rather doubtful grammar sometimes, and in her verses took all sorts of liberties with the metre. But oh, mesdames, if you are not allowed to touch the heart sometimes in spite of syntax, and are not to be loved until you all know the difference between trimeter and tetrameter, may all Poetry go to the deuce, and every schoolmaster perish miserably! 第 十 二 章    很多情的一章     现在我们应该离开田园乐土,和当地那些纯朴可爱的好人告别,回到伦敦去探听探听爱米丽亚小姐的消息了.一位隐名的读者写给我一封信;她的字迹娟秀,信封用粉红的火漆封了口.信上说:"我们一点儿不喜欢她,这个人没有意思,乏味得很."此外还有几句别的话,也是这一类好意的评语.这些话对于被批评的小姐实在是一种了不起的赞扬,要不然我也不会说给大家听.     亲爱的读者,当你在交际场里应酬的时候,难道没有听见过好心的女朋友们说过同样的话吗?她们常常怀疑斯密士小姐究竟有什么引人的地方.她们认为汤姆生小姐又蠢又没意思,只会傻笑;脸蛋儿长得像蜡做的洋娃娃,其他一无好处;为什么琼斯少佐偏要向她求婚呢?亲爱的道学先生们说:"粉红脸蛋儿和蓝眼珠子有什么了不起?"她们很有道理的点醒大家,说是一个女人有天赋的才能和灵智方面的成就;能够明了曼格耐尔的《问题》(曼格耐尔(Ｍａｎｇｎａｌｌ,１７６９—１８２０),英国女教师,所著《历史问题及其它》在１８００年出版,是风行的女学校教本.);掌握上等女人应有的地质学植物学的智识;会做诗;会学赫滋(赫滋(Ｈｅｉｎｒｉｃｈ　Ｈｅｒｚ,１８０６—８８),奥国作曲家,在法国教琴出名.)派的手法,在琴上叮叮东东弹奏鸣曲等等,比好看的相貌有价值得多,因为红颜难保,不过几年便消褪了.听得女人批评美貌不值钱不耐久,倒使我长进了不少.     当然,德行比容貌要紧得多,我们应该时常提醒不幸身为美人的女子,叫她们时常记着将来的苦命.还有一层,男人们虽然把那些眉开眼笑.脸色鲜嫩.脾气温和.心地良善.不明白世事的小东西当神明似的供奉在家里,太太小姐们却佩服女中的豪杰;而且两相比较起来,女中豪杰的确更值得颂扬和赞美.不过话虽这么说,前面一种次一等的女人也有可以聊以自慰的地方,因为归根结底,男人还是喜欢她们的.我们的好朋友白费了许多唇舌,一会儿警告,一会儿劝导,我们却至死不悟,荒唐糊涂到底.就拿我来说吧,有几位我向来尊敬的太太小姐曾经几次三番告诉我,说白朗小姐身材瘦小,没有什么动人的去处;又说忽爱德太太除了脸蛋儿还算讨人喜欢,没有什么了不起;又说勃拉克太太最没有口齿,一句话都不会说.可是我明明跟勃拉克太太谈得津津有味(亲爱的太太,我们说的话当然是无可訾议的);忽爱德太太椅子旁边明明挤满了男人;说到白朗小姐呢,所有的小伙子都在你抢我夺的要和她跳舞.这样看起来,一个女人给别的女人瞧不起,倒是一件非常值得骄傲的事.     和爱米丽亚来往的小姐们把这一套儿做得很到家.譬如说,乔治的姊妹,那两位奥斯本小姐,还有两位都宾小姐,一说起爱米丽亚种种没出息的地方,意见完全相同,大家都不明白自己的兄弟看着她哪一点上可爱.两位奥斯本小姐生得不错,都长着漆黑的眉毛.讲到教育,家里一向请着第一流的男女家庭教师;讲到穿著,又是雇的最讲究的裁缝.她们说:"我们待爱米丽亚很好."她们竭力俯就她,对她非常客气,那种降低了身份抬举她的样子实在叫人受不了,弄得可怜的爱米在她们面前一句话都说不出来,活像个呆子,竟和小姐们对于她的估计吻合了.爱米丽亚因为她们是未来丈夫的姊妹,努力叫自己喜欢她们,觉得这是她的责任.她往往整个上午陪着她们,挨过多少沉闷没有趣味的时光.她和她们一块儿出去,一本正经的坐在奥斯本家的大马车里,旁边还有个瘦骨嶙峋的女教师......那个叫乌德小姐的老姑娘,相陪着.奥斯本小姐们款待爱米的法子,就是带她去听干燥无味的音乐会,或是去听圣乐,或是到圣.保罗教堂去看那些靠施主养活的穷苦孩子.她对于新朋友们怕得利害,甚至于在教堂里听了孩子们唱的圣诗,也不大敢表示感动.奥斯本家里很舒服,他的爸爸讲究吃喝,菜蔬做得十分精致,排场又阔.他们待人接物的态度严肃而又文雅;他们的自尊心强得比众不同;他们在孤儿教堂的包座是全堂第一;他们做事有条有理,最讲面子;连他们取乐儿的时候,也只挑规规矩矩.沉闷不堪的事干.爱米丽亚每去拜访一次(拜访完了之后她心里多轻松啊!)奥斯本大小姐.玛丽亚.奥斯本小姐,还有女教师乌德小姐那个老姑娘,总免不了你问我我问你的说:"乔治究竟瞧着她哪点儿好啊?"她们越看越不明白了.     有些爱找错儿的读者叫起来说:"怎么的?爱米丽亚在学校里朋友那么多,人缘那么好,怎么出来以后碰见的奶奶姑娘们倒会不喜欢她呢?她们又不是辨不出好歹的人."亲爱的先生,别忘了在平克顿小姐的学校里,除了一个上了年纪的跳舞教师之外一个男人都没有,女孩子们难道为着这老头儿吵架不成?乔治的姊妹们瞧着漂亮的兄弟一吃完早饭就往外跑,一星期里头倒有五六天不在家吃饭,难怪她们觉得受了怠慢,心里不高兴.朗白街上赫尔格和白洛克合营银行里的小白洛克最近两年本来在追求玛丽亚小姐,哪知道有一会跳八人舞的时候竟然挑了爱米丽亚做舞伴,你想玛丽亚会喜欢吗?亏得这位小姐生来不工心计,器量也大,表示她瞧着很喜欢.跳完舞以后,她很热心的对白洛克先生说:"你喜欢亲爱的爱米丽亚,我瞧着真高兴.她是我哥哥的未婚妻.她没有什么本事,可是脾气真好,也不会装腔作势.我们家里的人真喜欢她."好姑娘!她那热心热肠的"真"字儿里面包含的情意,有谁量得出它的深浅?     乌德小姐和两位热心肠的女孩儿常常很恳切的点醒乔治,说他委屈自己错配了爱米丽亚,真是绝大的牺牲,过度的慷慨.乔治把这些话听熟了,大概到后来真心以为自己是英国军队里面数一数二的大好老,便死心塌地等人家爱他,反正这也并不是难事.     我刚才说他每天早上出门,一星期在外吃六餐饭.他的姊妹们想他准是昏了头,只在赛特笠小姐左右侍奉她,其实大家以为他拜倒在爱米丽亚脚边的时候,他往往到别处去了.有好几次,都宾上尉走来拜访他的朋友,奥斯本大小姐(她很关心上尉,爱听他说军队里的故事,常常打听他亲爱的妈妈身体好不好)......奥斯本大小姐就指着广场对面的屋子笑说:"唷,你要找乔治,就得到赛特关家里去呀,我们从早到晚都见不着他的面."上尉听她这么一说,脸上非常尴尬,勉强笑了一笑.还亏得他熟晓人情世故,立刻把话锋转到大家爱谈的题目上去,像歌剧啊,亲王最近在卡尔登大厦(指后来的乔治第四,他登极之前住在卡尔登大厦,时常招待宾客,连房子也出了名.)开的跳舞会啊,天气啊,......在应酬场中,天气真是有用,没话说的时候就可以把它做谈话资料.上尉走掉之后,玛丽亚小姐便对吉恩小姐说道:"你那心上人儿可真傻气.你瞧见没有?咱们说起乔治到对门上班儿,他就脸红了."     她的姐姐扬着脸儿回答说:"玛丽亚,可惜弗莱特立克.白洛克没有他这点儿虚心."     "虚心!还不如说他笨手笨脚,吉恩.那一回在潘金家跳舞,他把你的纱衣服踩了一个洞,我可不愿意弗莱特立克在我细沙袍子上踩个洞."     "你的纱袍子?喝喝!怎么的?他不是在跟爱米丽亚跳舞吗?"     都宾上尉脸上发烧,样子局促不安,为的是他心里想着一件事情,不愿意让小姐们知道.原来他假托找寻乔治,已经到过赛特笠家里,发现乔治不在那里,只有可怜的爱米丽亚闷闷的坐在客厅窗口.她扯了几句淡话之后,鼓起勇气向上尉说:听说联队又要外调,是真的吗?还有,上尉那天可曾看见奥斯本先生吗?     联队还不准备外调,都宾上尉也没有看见乔治.他说:"大概他跟姊妹们在一块儿.要我去把那游手好闲的家伙叫过来吗?"爱米丽亚心里感激,很客气的跟都宾握手告别,他就穿过广场找到乔治家里来.可是她等了又等,总不见乔治的影子.     可怜这温柔的小姑娘,一颗心抖簌簌的跳个不停,她左盼右盼,一直在想念情人,对于他深信不疑.你看,这种生活没什么可描写的,因为里面没有多大变化.她从早到晚想着:"他什么时候来啊?"不论睡着醒着,只挂念这一件事.照我猜想起来,爱米丽亚向都宾上尉打听乔治的行止的时候,他多分在燕子街跟加能上尉打弹子,因为他是个爱热闹会交际的家伙,而且对一切赌技巧的玩意儿全是内行.     有一次,乔治连着三天不见,爱米丽亚竟然戴上帽子找到奥斯本家里去,小姐们问她说:"怎么的?你丢了我们的兄弟到这儿来了?说吧,爱米丽亚,你们拌过嘴了吗?"没有,他们没有拌过嘴.爱米丽亚眼泪汪汪的说:"谁还能跟他拌嘴呢?"她迟迟疑疑的说她过来望望朋友,因为大家好久没见面了.那天她又呆又笨,两位小姐和那女教师瞧着她怏怏的回家,都瞪着眼在她后头呆看,她们想到乔治竟会看上可怜的爱米丽亚,就觉得纳闷.     这也难怪她们纳闷.爱米丽亚怎么能把自己颤抖的心掏出来给这两个睁着黑眼睛瞪人的姑娘看呢?还是退后一步把感情埋藏起来吧.两个奥斯本小姐对于细绒线披肩和粉红缎子衬裙是内行.泰纳小姐把她的衬裙染了紫色改成短披风;毕克福小姐把银鼠肩衣改成手笼和衣服上的镶边;都逃不过这两个聪明女孩子的眼睛.可是世界上有些东西比皮毛和软缎更精美;任是苏罗门的财富,希巴皇后的华裳艳服,也望尘莫及,只可惜它们的好处连许多鉴赏家都看不出来.有些羞缩的小花儿,开在偏僻阴暗的地方;细细的发出幽香;全凭偶然的机缘才见得着.也有些花儿,大得像铜脚炉,跟它们相比,连太阳都显得腼腆怕羞.赛特笠小姐不是向日葵的一类.而且我认为假如把紫罗兰画得像重瓣大理菊一般肥大,未免不相称.     说真话,一个贞静的姑娘出阁以前的生活非常单调,不像传奇里的女主角那样有许多惊心动魄的遭遇.老鸟儿在外面打食,也许会给人一熗打死,也许会自投罗网,况且外头又有老鹰,它们有时候侥幸躲过,有时候免不了遭殃.至于在窝里的小鸟呢,在飞出老窝另立门户之前,只消蹲在软软的绒毛和干草上,过着舒服而平淡的日子.蓓基.夏泼已经张开翅膀飞到了乡下,在树枝上跳来跳去,虽然前后左右布满了罗网,她倒是很平安很得意的在吃她的一份食料.这一向,爱米丽亚只在勒塞尔广场安稳过日子.凡是和外面人接触的时候,都有长辈指引.她家里又阔,又舒服,又快乐,而且人人疼她,照顾她,哪里会有不幸的事情临到她头上来呢?她妈妈早上管管家事,每天坐了马车出去兜一转,应酬应酬,买买东西.伦敦的阔太太们借此消遣,也可以说就把这种事情当作自己的职业.她爹在市中心做些很奥妙的买卖.当年市中心是个热闹的所在,因为那时候整个欧洲在打仗,有好些皇国存亡未卜.《驿差报》有成千累万的订户.报上的消息惊心动魄,第一天报道威多利的战役,第二天又登载莫斯科的大火.往往到晚饭时分,卖报的拿着号筒,在勒塞尔广场高声叫喊:"莱比锡战役(１８１３年１０月,拿破仑在德国境内和普.奥.俄联军交战,大败.)!六十万大军交战!法军大败!伤亡二十万人!"有一两回,赛特笠老先生回到家里,一脸心事重重的样子.这一类的消息闹得人心惶惑,欧洲的交易所里也有波动,怪不得他着急.     在白鲁姆斯贝莱区的勒塞尔广场,一切照常,仿佛欧洲仍旧风平浪静没出乱子.三菩先生每天在下房吃饭的次数不会因为莱比锡退军而有所变更;尽管联军大批涌进法国,每天五点钟他们照常打铃子开饭.白利安也罢,蒙密拉依(１８１４年１月,拿破仑与联军在法国白利安开战,２月又与联军在法国蒙密拉依开战,两次都大胜.也罢,可怜的爱米丽亚都不放在心上,直到拿破仑退位,她才起始关心战局.她一听这个消息,快乐得拍起手来,诚心感谢上苍,热烈的搂着乔治不放.旁边的人看见她这样感情奔放,全觉得诧异.原来现在各国宣告停战,欧洲太平,那科西嘉人下了台,奥斯本中尉的联队也就不必派出去打仗了.这是爱米丽亚小姐的估计.在她看来,欧洲的命运所以重要,不过是因为它影响乔治.奥斯本中尉.他脱离了危险,她就唱圣诗赞美上帝.他是她的欧洲,她的皇帝,抵得过联军里所有的君主和本国权势赫赫的摄政王.乔治是她的太阳,她的月亮.政府公廨里招待各国君王,大开跳舞会,点得灯烛辉煌,没准她也觉得大家是为了乔治.奥斯本才那么忙碌.     我们已经说过,教育利蓓加成人的是三个叫人扫兴的教师:人事的变迁,贫苦的生活,连上她自己本人.新近爱米丽亚也有了一位老师,那就是她自己的一片痴情.在这个怪得人心的教师手下,她有了惊人的进步.这一年半以来,爱米丽亚日夜受这位有名望的教师点化,学得了许多秘密.关于这方面的知识,不但对面房子里的乌德小姐和两个黑眼睛姑娘十分缺乏,连平克顿小姐也不在行.这几位拘谨体面的小姐怎么会懂得这里面的奥妙呢?平克顿小姐和乌德小姐当然跟痴情恋慕这些事情无缘,一说到她们俩,我这话根本不敢出口.就拿玛丽亚.奥斯本小姐来说吧,她算是跟白洛克父子以及赫克尔合营公司的弗莱特立克.奥克斯德.白洛克有情有意的.可是她这人非常大方,嫁给白洛克先生,或是嫁给白洛克先生的父亲,在她都无所谓.她像一切有教养的小姐一般,一心只要在派克街有一所房子,在温勃尔顿有一所别墅,再要一辆漂亮的马车,两匹高头大马,许多听差,连上有名的赫尔格和白洛克的公司里每年四分之一的利润.弗莱特立克.奥克斯德.白洛克就代表这些好处.假如新娘戴橘子花的习惯在当年已经风行的话(这风气是从盛行买卖婚姻的法国传进来的,这童贞的象征多么令人感动啊!)......如果当年已经风行戴橘子花的话,那么玛丽亚小姐准会戴上这种洁白的花圈,紧靠着那又老又秃.鼻子像酒瓶.浑身风湿的白洛克老头儿在大马车里坐下来,准备跟他出门度蜜月.她一定甘心情愿,把自己美丽的一生奉献给他,使他快乐.可惜老头儿已经有了妻子,所以她只好把纯洁的爱情献给公司里的下级股东了.香喷喷娇滴滴的橘子花啊!前些日子我看见特洛德小姐(她现在当然不用这名字了),戴着这花儿从汉诺佛广场的圣.乔治礼拜堂里轻快的出来,踏上了马车,接着玛土撒拉老勋爵拐着腿也跟了进去.好个天真可爱的姑娘!她把马车里的窗帘拉下来,那端庄的样子多么讨人喜欢!他们这次结婚,名利场里的马车来了一半.     熏陶爱米丽亚的痴情却是各别另样的.它在一年里面完成了她的教育,把品性优美的小姑娘训练成品性优美的妇人,到喜事一来,便准备做贤慧的妻子.女孩子一心一意爱她的年轻军官......就是我们新近认识的那一位.只怪她爹娘不小心,不该奖励她崇拜英雄的心理,让这种糊涂不切实际的观念在她心里滋长.她早上一醒过来,第一件事就想着他,晚上祷告的时候,末了一句话还是提到他.她从来没有看见过这么漂亮聪明的人.他骑马骑得好,跳舞跳得好;各方面说起来都是个英雄豪杰.大家称赞摄政王鞠躬的仪态,可是跟乔治一比,他就望尘莫及.人人都夸奖白鲁美尔先生(见２５页注①.),这个人她也见过,在她看来,无论如何赶不上乔治.在歌剧院里看见的花花公子们(当年的公子哥儿真有戴了大高帽子去听戏的),没有一个可以与他相提并论.他这人出众得配做神话里的王子,竟然肯纡尊降贵爱上她这么一个寒伧的灰姑娘,这份恩宠太了不起了.平克顿小姐假如知道爱米丽亚的心事,准会想法子阻止她盲目的崇拜乔治,不过我看她的劝导未见得有效,因为对于有些女人说来,崇拜英雄的本能是与生俱来的.女人里面有的骨子里爱耍手段,有的却是天生的痴情种子.可敬的读者之中如果有单身汉子的话,希望他们都能挑选到适合自己脾胃的妻子.     在这样不可抗拒的大力量影响之下,爱米丽亚硬硬心肠不理会契息克的十二个朋友了.这也是自私的人的通病.她当然心心念念只惦记着爱人,可是她这衷肠话儿不能向赛尔泰小姐这么冷冰冰的人倾诉.对于圣.葛脱来的那头上一窝子卷毛的女财主呢,这话也难出口.放假的时候,她把罗拉.马丁接到家里来住,大概就把心事吐露给小孩儿听了.她答应罗拉结婚以后接她去住.还讲给她听许多关于爱情的知识.这些话儿小孩儿听来一定觉得新鲜,而且很有用处.可怜!可怜!我看爱米的心地不大明白.     她的爹妈是干什么的?怎么不加提防,任她这样感情奔放呢?赛特笠老头儿仿佛不大关心家事.近来他愁眉不展,市中心的事情又多,因此分不出心来.赛特笠太太是随和脾气,百事不问,连妒忌别人的心思都没有.乔斯先生在契尔顿纳姆给一个爱尔兰寡妇缠住了,也不在家.家里只有爱米丽亚一个人,所以有的时候她真觉得寂寞.她倒不是信不过乔治.他准是在骑兵营里,不能常常请假离开契顿姆.就算他到伦敦来,也少不得看望姊妹朋友,跟大家应酬一番,因为在无论哪个圈子里,都数他是个尖儿.再说,在营里的时候,他太累了,自然不能写长信.我知道爱米丽亚的一包信藏在什么地方,而且能像依阿器莫(莎士比亚《辛白林》一剧里的反角,曾经潜入女主角的房间里去偷东西.)一般人不知鬼不觉的在她的房里出出进进.依阿器莫?不行,他是戏里的坏蛋,我还是做月光(莎士比亚《仲夏夜之梦》第三幕第一景及第五幕第一景中,月光照见比拉默斯和底斯贝幽会,这角色由一个村夫举着灯扮演,灯便算月光.)吧.月光是不害人的,只不过在忠诚.美丽.纯洁的爱米丽亚睡着的时候,偷眼看看她罢了.　　奥斯本的信很短,不失他兵士的本色,可是爱米丽亚写给他的信呢,不瞒你说,如果印出来的话,我这本小说得写好几年才能写完,连最多情的读者也会觉得不耐烦.她不但把一大张一大张的信纸都写得满满的,而且有的时候闹起刁钻古怪的脾气来,把写好的句子重新划掉.她不顾看信的人,把整页的诗句抄下来.在有些句子底下,她发狠画了一条条道儿加重语气.总而言之,在她心境下常有的症象,统统显现出来了.她不是个特出的人才.她信里面的确有许多颠倒重复的句子,有的时候连文法也不大通.她写的诗,音节错得利害.太太小姐们啊,假如你们写错了句子就打不动男人的心,分不清三节韵脚和四节韵脚就得不到男人的爱......那么我宁愿一切诗歌都遭殃,所有的教书先生都不得好死.

CHAPTER XIII Sentimental and Otherwise I fear the gentleman to whom Miss Amelia's letters were addressed was rather an obdurate critic. Such a number of notes followed Lieutenant Osborne about the country, that he became almost ashamed of the jokes of his mess-room companions regarding them, and ordered his servant never to deliver them except at his private apartment. He was seen lighting his cigar with one, to the horror of Captain Dobbin, who, it is my belief, would have given a bank-note for the document. For some time George strove to keep the liaison a secret. There was a woman in the case, that he admitted. "And not the first either," said Ensign Spooney to Ensign Stubble. "That Osborne's a devil of a fellow. There was a judge's daughter at Demerara went almost mad about him; then there was that beautiful quadroon girl, Miss Pye, at St. Vincent's, you know; and since he's been home, they say he's a regular Don Giovanni, by Jove." Stubble and Spooney thought that to be a "regular Don Giovanni, by Jove" was one of the finest qualities a man could possess, and Osborne's reputation was prodigious amongst the young men of the regiment. He was famous in field-sports, famous at a song, famous on parade; free with his money, which was bountifully supplied by his father. His coats were better made than any man's in the regiment, and he had more of them. He was adored by the men. He could drink more than any officer of the whole mess, including old Heavytop, the colonel. He could spar better than Knuckles, the private (who would have been a corporal but for his drunkenness, and who had been in the prize-ring); and was the best batter and bowler, out and out, of the regimental club. He rode his own horse, Greased Lightning, and won the Garrison cup at Quebec races. There were other people besides Amelia who worshipped him. Stubble and Spooney thought him a sort of Apollo; Dobbin took him to be an Admirable Crichton; and Mrs. Major O'Dowd acknowledged he was an elegant young fellow, and put her in mind of Fitzjurld Fogarty, Lord Castlefogarty's second son. Well, Stubble and Spooney and the rest indulged in most romantic conjectures regarding this female correspondent of Osborne's-- opining that it was a Duchess in London who was in love with him--or that it was a General's daughter, who was engaged to somebody else, and madly attached to him--or that it was a Member of Parliament's lady, who proposed four horses and an elopement--or that it was some other victim of a passion delightfully exciting, romantic, and disgraceful to all parties, on none of which conjectures would Osborne throw the least light, leaving his young admirers and friends to invent and arrange their whole history. And the real state of the case would never have been known at all in the regiment but for Captain Dobbin's indiscretion. The Captain was eating his breakfast one day in the mess-room, while Cackle, the assistant-surgeon, and the two above-named worthies were speculating upon Osborne's intrigue--Stubble holding out that the lady was a Duchess about Queen Charlotte's court, and Cackle vowing she was an opera-singer of the worst reputation. At this idea Dobbin became so moved, that though his mouth was full of eggs and bread-and-butter at the time, and though he ought not to have spoken at all, yet he couldn't help blurting out, "Cackle, you're a stupid fool. You're always talking nonsense and scandal. Osborne is not going to run off with a Duchess or ruin a milliner. Miss Sedley is one of the most charming young women that ever lived. He's been engaged to her ever so long; and the man who calls her names had better not do so in my hearing." With which, turning exceedingly red, Dobbin ceased speaking, and almost choked himself with a cup of tea. The story was over the regiment in half-an-hour; and that very evening Mrs. Major O'Dowd wrote off to her sister Glorvina at O'Dowdstown not to hurry from Dublin--young Osborne being prematurely engaged already. She complimented the Lieutenant in an appropriate speech over a glass of whisky-toddy that evening, and he went home perfectly furious to quarrel with Dobbin (who had declined Mrs. Major O'Dowd's party, and sat in his own room playing the flute, and, I believe, writing poetry in a very melancholy manner)--to quarrel with Dobbin for betraying his secret. "Who the deuce asked you to talk about my affairs?" Osborne shouted indignantly. "Why the devil is all the regiment to know that I am going to be married? Why is that tattling old harridan, Peggy O'Dowd, to make free with my name at her d--d supper-table, and advertise my engagement over the three kingdoms? After all, what right have you to say I am engaged, or to meddle in my business at all, Dobbin?" "It seems to me," Captain Dobbin began. "Seems be hanged, Dobbin," his junior interrupted him. "I am under obligations to you, I know it, a d--d deal too well too; but I won't be always sermonised by you because you're five years my senior. I'm hanged if I'll stand your airs of superiority and infernal pity and patronage. Pity and patronage! I should like to know in what I'm your inferior?" "Are you engaged?" Captain Dobbin interposed. "What the devil's that to you or any one here if I am?" "Are you ashamed of it?" Dobbin resumed. "What right have you to ask me that question, sir? I should like to know," George said. "Good God, you don't mean to say you want to break off?" asked Dobbin, starting up. "In other words, you ask me if I'm a man of honour," said Osborne, fiercely; "is that what you mean? You've adopted such a tone regarding me lately that I'm ------ if I'll bear it any more." "What have I done? I've told you you were neglecting a sweet girl, George. I've told you that when you go to town you ought to go to her, and not to the gambling-houses about St. James's." "You want your money back, I suppose," said George, with a sneer. "Of course I do--I always did, didn't I?" says Dobbin. "You speak like a generous fellow." "No, hang it, William, I beg your pardon"--here George interposed in a fit of remorse; "you have been my friend in a hundred ways, Heaven knows. You've got me out of a score of scrapes. When Crawley of the Guards won that sum of money of me I should have been done but for you: I know I should. But you shouldn't deal so hardly with me; you shouldn't be always catechising me. I am very fond of Amelia; I adore her, and that sort of thing. Don't look angry. She's faultless; I know she is. But you see there's no fun in winning a thing unless you play for it. Hang it: the regiment's just back from the West Indies, I must have a little fling, and then when I'm married I'll reform; I will upon my honour, now. And--I say--Dob-- don't be angry with me, and I'll give you a hundred next month, when I know my father will stand something handsome; and I'll ask Heavytop for leave, and I'll go to town, and see Amelia to-morrow-- there now, will that satisfy you?" "It is impossible to be long angry with you, George," said the good- natured Captain; "and as for the money, old boy, you know if I wanted it you'd share your last shilling with me." "That I would, by Jove, Dobbin," George said, with the greatest generosity, though by the way he never had any money to spare. "Only I wish you had sown those wild oats of yours, George. If you could have seen poor little Miss Emmy's face when she asked me about you the other day, you would have pitched those billiard-balls to the deuce. Go and comfort her, you rascal. Go and write her a long letter. Do something to make her happy; a very little will." "I believe she's d--d fond of me," the Lieutenant said, with a self- satisfied air; and went off to finish the evening with some jolly fellows in the mess-room. Amelia meanwhile, in Russell Square, was looking at the moon, which was shining upon that peaceful spot, as well as upon the square of the Chatham barracks, where Lieutenant Osborne was quartered, and thinking to herself how her hero was employed. Perhaps he is visiting the sentries, thought she; perhaps he is bivouacking; perhaps he is attending the couch of a wounded comrade, or studying the art of war up in his own desolate chamber. And her kind thoughts sped away as if they were angels and had wings, and flying down the river to Chatham and Rochester, strove to peep into the barracks where George was. . . . All things considered, I think it was as well the gates were shut, and the sentry allowed no one to pass; so that the poor little white-robed angel could not hear the songs those young fellows were roaring over the whisky-punch. The day after the little conversation at Chatham barracks, young Osborne, to show that he would be as good as his word, prepared to go to town, thereby incurring Captain Dobbin's applause. "I should have liked to make her a little present," Osborne said to his friend in confidence, "only I am quite out of cash until my father tips up." But Dobbin would not allow this good nature and generosity to be balked, and so accommodated Mr. Osborne with a few pound notes, which the latter took after a little faint scruple. And I dare say he would have bought something very handsome for Amelia; only, getting off the coach in Fleet Street, he was attracted by a handsome shirt-pin in a jeweller's window, which he could not resist; and having paid for that, had very little money to spare for indulging in any further exercise of kindness. Never mind: you may be sure it was not his presents Amelia wanted. When he came to Russell Square, her face lighted up as if he had been sunshine. The little cares, fears, tears, timid misgivings, sleepless fancies of I don't know how many days and nights, were forgotten, under one moment's influence of that familiar, irresistible smile. He beamed on her from the drawing-room door-- magnificent, with ambrosial whiskers, like a god. Sambo, whose face as he announced Captain Osbin (having conferred a brevet rank on that young officer) blazed with a sympathetic grin, saw the little girl start, and flush, and jump up from her watching-place in the window; and Sambo retreated: and as soon as the door was shut, she went fluttering to Lieutenant George Osborne's heart as if it was the only natural home for her to nestle in. Oh, thou poor panting little soul! The very finest tree in the whole forest, with the straightest stem, and the strongest arms, and the thickest foliage, wherein you choose to build and coo, may be marked, for what you know, and may be down with a crash ere long. What an old, old simile that is, between man and timber! In the meanwhile, George kissed her very kindly on her forehead and glistening eyes, and was very gracious and good; and she thought his diamond shirt-pin (which she had not known him to wear before) the prettiest ornament ever seen. The observant reader, who has marked our young Lieutenant's previous behaviour, and has preserved our report of the brief conversation which he has just had with Captain Dobbin, has possibly come to certain conclusions regarding the character of Mr. Osborne. Some cynical Frenchman has said that there are two parties to a love- transaction: the one who loves and the other who condescends to be so treated. Perhaps the love is occasionally on the man's side; perhaps on the lady's. Perhaps some infatuated swain has ere this mistaken insensibility for modesty, dulness for maiden reserve, mere vacuity for sweet bashfulness, and a goose, in a word, for a swan. Perhaps some beloved female subscriber has arrayed an ass in the splendour and glory of her imagination; admired his dulness as manly simplicity; worshipped his selfishness as manly superiority; treated his stupidity as majestic gravity, and used him as the brilliant fairy Titania did a certain weaver at Athens. I think I have seen such comedies of errors going on in the world. But this is certain, that Amelia believed her lover to be one of the most gallant and brilliant men in the empire: and it is possible Lieutenant Osborne thought so too. He was a little wild: how many young men are; and don't girls like a rake better than a milksop? He hadn't sown his wild oats as yet, but he would soon: and quit the army now that peace was proclaimed; the Corsican monster locked up at Elba; promotion by consequence over; and no chance left for the display of his undoubted military talents and valour: and his allowance, with Amelia's settlement, would enable them to take a snug place in the country somewhere, in a good sporting neighbourhood; and he would hunt a little, and farm a little; and they would be very happy. As for remaining in the army as a married man, that was impossible. Fancy Mrs. George Osborne in lodgings in a county town; or, worse still, in the East or West Indies, with a society of officers, and patronized by Mrs. Major O'Dowd! Amelia died with laughing at Osborne's stories about Mrs. Major O'Dowd. He loved her much too fondly to subject her to that horrid woman and her vulgarities, and the rough treatment of a soldier's wife. He didn't care for himself--not he; but his dear little girl should take the place in society to which, as his wife, she was entitled: and to these proposals you may be sure she acceded, as she would to any other from the same author. Holding this kind of conversation, and building numberless castles in the air (which Amelia adorned with all sorts of flower-gardens, rustic walks, country churches, Sunday schools, and the like; while George had his mind's eye directed to the stables, the kennel, and the cellar), this young pair passed away a couple of hours very pleasantly; and as the Lieutenant had only that single day in town, and a great deal of most important business to transact, it was proposed that Miss Emmy should dine with her future sisters-in-law. This invitation was accepted joyfully. He conducted her to his sisters; where he left her talking and prattling in a way that astonished those ladies, who thought that George might make something of her; and he then went off to transact his business. In a word, he went out and ate ices at a pastry-cook's shop in Charing Cross; tried a new coat in Pall Mall; dropped in at the Old Slaughters', and called for Captain Cannon; played eleven games at billiards with the Captain, of which he won eight, and returned to Russell Square half an hour late for dinner, but in very good humour. It was not so with old Mr. Osborne. When that gentleman came from the City, and was welcomed in the drawing-room by his daughters and the elegant Miss Wirt, they saw at once by his face--which was puffy, solemn, and yellow at the best of times--and by the scowl and twitching of his black eyebrows, that the heart within his large white waistcoat was disturbed and uneasy. When Amelia stepped forward to salute him, which she always did with great trembling and timidity, he gave a surly grunt of recognition, and dropped the little hand out of his great hirsute paw without any attempt to hold it there. He looked round gloomily at his eldest daughter; who, comprehending the meaning of his look, which asked unmistakably, "Why the devil is she here?" said at once: "George is in town, Papa; and has gone to the Horse Guards, and will be back to dinner." "O he is, is he? I won't have the dinner kept waiting for him, Jane"; with which this worthy man lapsed into his particular chair, and then the utter silence in his genteel, well-furnished drawing- room was only interrupted by the alarmed ticking of the great French clock. When that chronometer, which was surmounted by a cheerful brass group of the sacrifice of Iphigenia, tolled five in a heavy cathedral tone, Mr. Osborne pulled the bell at his right hand- violently, and the butler rushed up. "Dinner!" roared Mr. Osborne. "Mr. George isn't come in, sir," interposed the man. "Damn Mr. George, sir. Am I master of the house? DINNER!" Mr. Osborne scowled. Amelia trembled. A telegraphic communication of eyes passed between the other three ladies. The obedient bell in the lower regions began ringing the announcement of the meal. The tolling over, the head of the family thrust his hands into the great tail-pockets of his great blue coat with brass buttons, and without waiting for a further announcement strode downstairs alone, scowling over his shoulder at the four females. "What's the matter now, my dear?" asked one of the other, as they rose and tripped gingerly behind the sire. "I suppose the funds are falling," whispered Miss Wirt; and so, trembling and in silence, this hushed female company followed their dark leader. They took their places in silence. He growled out a blessing, which sounded as gruffly as a curse. The great silver dish-covers were removed. Amelia trembled in her place, for she was next to the awful Osborne, and alone on her side of the table--the gap being occasioned by the absence of George. "Soup?" says Mr. Osborne, clutching the ladle, fixing his eyes on her, in a sepulchral tone; and having helped her and the rest, did not speak for a while. "Take Miss Sedley's plate away," at last he said. "She can't eat the soup--no more can I. It's beastly. Take away the soup, Hicks, and to-morrow turn the cook out of the house, Jane." Having concluded his observations upon the soup, Mr. Osborne made a few curt remarks respecting the fish, also of a savage and satirical tendency, and cursed Billingsgate with an emphasis quite worthy of the place. Then he lapsed into silence, and swallowed sundry glasses of wine, looking more and more terrible, till a brisk knock at the door told of George's arrival when everybody began to rally. "He could not come before. General Daguilet had kept him waiting at the Horse Guards. Never mind soup or fish. Give him anything--he didn't care what. Capital mutton--capital everything." His good humour contrasted with his father's severity; and he rattled on unceasingly during dinner, to the delight of all--of one especially, who need not be mentioned. As soon as the young ladies had discussed the orange and the glass of wine which formed the ordinary conclusion of the dismal banquets at Mr. Osborne's house, the signal to make sail for the drawing-room was given, and they all arose and departed. Amelia hoped George would soon join them there. She began playing some of his favourite waltzes (then newly imported) at the great carved-legged, leather- cased grand piano in the drawing-room overhead. This little artifice did not bring him. He was deaf to the waltzes; they grew fainter and fainter; the discomfited performer left the huge instrument presently; and though her three friends performed some of the loudest and most brilliant new pieces of their repertoire, she did not hear a single note, but sate thinking, and boding evil. Old Osborne's scowl, terrific always, had never before looked so deadly to her. His eyes followed her out of the room, as if she had been guilty of something. When they brought her coffee, she started as though it were a cup of poison which Mr. Hicks, the butler, wished to propose to her. What mystery was there lurking? Oh, those women! They nurse and cuddle their presentiments, and make darlings of their ugliest thoughts, as they do of their deformed children. The gloom on the paternal countenance had also impressed George Osborne with anxiety. With such eyebrows, and a look so decidedly bilious, how was he to extract that money from the governor, of which George was consumedly in want? He began praising his father's wine. That was generally a successful means of cajoling the old gentleman. "We never got such Madeira in the West Indies, sir, as yours. Colonel Heavytop took off three bottles of that you sent me down, under his belt the other day." "Did he?" said the old gentleman. "It stands me in eight shillings a bottle." "Will you take six guineas a dozen for it, sir?" said George, with a laugh. "There's one of the greatest men in the kingdom wants some." "Does he?" growled the senior. "Wish he may get it." "When General Daguilet was at Chatham, sir, Heavytop gave him a breakfast, and asked me for some of the wine. The General liked it just as well--wanted a pipe for the Commander-in-Chief. He's his Royal Highness's right-hand man." "It is devilish fine wine," said the Eyebrows, and they looked more good-humoured; and George was going to take advantage of this complacency, and bring the supply question on the mahogany, when the father, relapsing into solemnity, though rather cordial in manner, bade him ring the bell for claret. "And we'll see if that's as good as the Madeira, George, to which his Royal Highness is welcome, I'm sure. And as we are drinking it, I'll talk to you about a matter of importance." Amelia heard the claret bell ringing as she sat nervously upstairs. She thought, somehow, it was a mysterious and presentimental bell. Of the presentiments which some people are always having, some surely must come right. "What I want to know, George," the old gentleman said, after slowly smacking his first bumper--"what I want to know is, how you and--ah- -that little thing upstairs, are carrying on?" "I think, sir, it is not hard to see," George said, with a self- satisfied grin. "Pretty clear, sir.--What capital wine!" "What d'you mean, pretty clear, sir?" "Why, hang it, sir, don't push me too hard. I'm a modest man. I-- ah--I don't set up to be a lady-killer; but I do own that she's as devilish fond of me as she can be. Anybody can see that with half an eye." "And you yourself?" "Why, sir, didn't you order me to marry her, and ain't I a good boy? Haven't our Papas settled it ever so long?" "A pretty boy, indeed. Haven't I heard of your doings, sir, with Lord Tarquin, Captain Crawley of the Guards, the Honourable Mr. Deuceace and that set. Have a care sir, have a care." The old gentleman pronounced these aristocratic names with the greatest gusto. Whenever he met a great man he grovelled before him, and my-lorded him as only a free-born Briton can do. He came home and looked out his history in the Peerage: he introduced his name into his daily conversation; he bragged about his Lordship to his daughters. He fell down prostrate and basked in him as a Neapolitan beggar does in the sun. George was alarmed when he heard the names. He feared his father might have been informed of certain transactions at play. But the old moralist eased him by saying serenely: "Well, well, young men will be young men. And the comfort to me is, George, that living in the best society in England, as I hope you do; as I think you do; as my means will allow you to do--" "Thank you, sir," says George, making his point at once. "One can't live with these great folks for nothing; and my purse, sir, look at it"; and he held up a little token which had been netted by Amelia, and contained the very last of Dobbin's pound notes. "You shan't want, sir. The British merchant's son shan't want, sir. My guineas are as good as theirs, George, my boy; and I don't grudge 'em. Call on Mr. Chopper as you go through the City to-morrow; he'll have something for you. I don't grudge money when I know you're in good society, because I know that good society can never go wrong. There's no pride in me. I was a humbly born man--but you have had advantages. Make a good use of 'em. Mix with the young nobility. There's many of 'em who can't spend a dollar to your guinea, my boy. And as for the pink bonnets (here from under the heavy eyebrows there came a knowing and not very pleasing leer)--why boys will be boys. Only there's one thing I order you to avoid, which, if you do not, I'll cut you off with a shilling, by Jove; and that's gambling." "Oh, of course, sir," said George. "But to return to the other business about Amelia: why shouldn't you marry higher than a stockbroker's daughter, George--that's what I want to know?" "It's a family business, sir,".says George, cracking filberts. "You and Mr. Sedley made the match a hundred years ago." "I don't deny it; but people's positions alter, sir. I don't deny that Sedley made my fortune, or rather put me in the way of acquiring, by my own talents and genius, that proud position, which, I may say, I occupy in the tallow trade and the City of London. I've shown my gratitude to Sedley; and he's tried it of late, sir, as my cheque-book can show. George! I tell you in confidence I don't like the looks of Mr. Sedley's affairs. My chief clerk, Mr. Chopper, does not like the looks of 'em, and he's an old file, and knows 'Change as well as any man in London. Hulker & Bullock are looking shy at him. He's been dabbling on his own account I fear. They say the Jeune Amelie was his, which was taken by the Yankee privateer Molasses. And that's flat--unless I see Amelia's ten thousand down you don't marry her. I'll have no lame duck's daughter in my family. Pass the wine, sir--or ring for coffee." With which Mr. Osborne spread out the evening paper, and George knew from this signal that the colloquy was ended, and that his papa was about to take a nap. He hurried upstairs to Amelia in the highest spirits. What was it that made him more attentive to her on that night than he had been for a long time--more eager to amuse her, more tender, more brilliant in talk? Was it that his generous heart warmed to her at the prospect of misfortune; or that the idea of losing the dear little prize made him value it more? She lived upon the recollections of that happy evening for many days afterwards, remembering his words; his looks; the song he sang; his attitude, as he leant over her or looked at her from a distance. As it seemed to her, no night ever passed so quickly at Mr. Osborne's house before; and for once this young person was almost provoked to be angry by the premature arrival of Mr. Sambo with her shawl. George came and took a tender leave of her the next morning; and then hurried off to the City, where he visited Mr. Chopper, his father's head man, and received from that gentleman a document which he exchanged at Hulker & Bullock's for a whole pocketful of money. As George entered the house, old John Sedley was passing out of the banker's parlour, looking very dismal. But his godson was much too elated to mark the worthy stockbroker's depression, or the dreary eyes which the kind old gentleman cast upon him. Young Bullock did not come grinning out of the parlour with him as had been his wont in former years. And as the swinging doors of Hulker, Bullock & Co. closed upon Mr. Sedley, Mr. Quill, the cashier (whose benevolent occupation it is to hand out crisp bank-notes from a drawer and dispense sovereigns out of a copper shovel), winked at Mr. Driver, the clerk at the desk on his right. Mr. Driver winked again. "No go," Mr. D. whispered. "Not at no price," Mr. Q. said. "Mr. George Osborne, sir, how will you take it?" George crammed eagerly a quantity of notes into his pockets, and paid Dobbin fifty pounds that very evening at mess. That very evening Amelia wrote him the tenderest of long letters. Her heart was overflowing with tenderness, but it still foreboded evil. What was the cause of Mr. Osborne's dark looks? she asked. Had any difference arisen between him and her papa? Her poor papa returned so melancholy from the City, that all were alarmed about him at home--in fine, there were four pages of loves and fears and hopes and forebodings. "Poor little Emmy--dear little Emmy. How fond she is of me," George said, as he perused the missive--"and Gad, what a headache that mixed punch has given me!" Poor little Emmy, indeed. 第 十 三 章    多情的和无情的     和爱米丽亚小姐通信的先生恐怕是个硬心肠.爱挑剔的人.这位奥斯本中尉不论走到哪里,总有一大批信件跟着来.在联队的饭间里,大家都为着这件事打趣他,弄得他很不好意思,便命令他的听差只准把信送到他自己的房间里去.有一回,他随手拿了一封点雪茄烟,把都宾上尉看得又惊又气.照我看来,上尉只要能够得到这封信,就是叫他拿钱来买也是愿意的.     起先乔治想法子把这段风流逸事保守秘密,只说自己确是跟一个女的有些来往.斯卜内旗手对斯德博尔旗手说:"这已经不是第一个女人了.奥斯本可真有一手啊!在德美拉拉,有个法官的女儿差点儿为他发疯.在圣.文生,又有个黑白杂种的美人儿叫派哀小姐的爱上了他.据说他自从回国以后,更成了个不折不扣的唐奇沃凡尼(唐奇沃凡尼(Ｄｏｎ　Ｇｉｏｖａｎｎｉ),也就是唐璜(Ｄｏｎ　Ｊｕａｎ),西班牙人,生在１５７１年,死在１８４１年,是调情的能手,出名的浪荡子.历来欧洲的诗人.戏剧家.音乐家的作品里,多有用他的一生作为题材的.)了,喝!"     斯德博尔和斯卜内认为一个男人能够做个"不折不扣的唐奇沃凡尼",真是了不起.他们联队里的一群年轻小伙子中间,奥斯本的名气大极了.他运动好,唱歌好,操练得精采,样样都是有名的.他父亲给他很多零用钱,因此他手笔阔绰.他的衣服比别人多,也比别人讲究.为他倾倒的人不知多少.他的酒量是全体军官里面最大的,连海维托帕老统领也不是他的对手.讲到拳击的本事,他比上等兵纳格尔斯还利害......纳格尔斯曾经在拳击场里正式上过场,若不是他常常喝醉酒,早已升了下士了.在联队的俱乐部里,不论打棒球,滚木球,他的本领远比别人高强.他有一匹好马叫"上油的闪电",在奎倍克赛马的时候,他自己做骑师,赢得了驻防军奖赏的银杯.崇拜他的人,除了爱米丽亚之外还有不少呢.斯德博尔和斯卜内把他当作太阳神阿普罗.在都宾眼睛里他就是"神妙的克莱顿"(詹姆士.克莱顿(Ｊａｍｅｓ　Ｃｒｉｃｈｔｏｎ,１５６０—８５?),英国出名的文武全才.传说他能用十二种不同的语言讨论各种科学上的问题,会写诗,又是极好的剑手.).奥多少佐太太也承认这小伙子举止文雅,教她连带着想起卡索尔福加蒂勋爵的二公子费滋吉尔.福加蒂来.     斯德博尔和斯卜内一伙人异想天开,编出各种故事来形容这位写信给奥斯本的女士.有的说她是伦敦的一位公爵夫人,为他堕入情网;有的说她是将军的女儿,本来已经跟别人订了婚,如今又发狂似的恋上了他;有的说她是议员的太太,曾经提议坐了四马拉的快车和他私奔.说来说去,反正那女人完全为爱情所左右,这种狂热的痴情,令人兴奋,令人神往,却也使沾带着的人都丢了体面.随便别人说什么,奥斯本只是不理睬,让这些小后生......他们有的崇拜他,有的跟他有交情......替他连连贯贯的编造谎话.     若不是都宾上尉说话不留神,联队里的人决不会明白事情的真相.有一天上尉在饭堂里吃早饭,外科医生的助手叫卡格尔的,和上面提起的两个宝贝又在对奥斯本闹恋爱的事作种种猜测.斯德博尔说她是夏洛德皇后宫里的公爵夫人.卡格尔赌咒说她是个声名狼藉的歌女.都宾听了大怒.他本来不该多嘴,何况嘴里面又塞满了鸡子儿.黄油和面包,可是他实在忍耐不住,冲口而出说道:"卡格尔,你是个糊涂蛋.你老是胡说八道,毁坏别人的名誉.奥斯本既不跟公爵夫人私奔,也不去勾引什么女裁缝.赛特笠小姐是个最可爱的女孩子.他们俩早就订婚了.谁要骂赛特笠小姐,得小心别在我面前骂!"都宾说了这话,满面涨得通红,闭上嘴不响了,喝茶的时候,几乎没把自己噎死.不到半个钟头,这消息已经传遍了整个联队.当晚奥多太太就写了一封信到奥多镇给她小姑葛萝薇娜,说是奥斯本不到时机成熟就订了婚,因此不必急急从都柏林赶出来.     就在当晚,她喝着威士忌调的可可牛奶祝贺他,对他说了一篇很得体的贺辞.他火得不得了,回家找着了都宾大闹.都宾辞谢了奥多太太的邀请,正在自己屋里吹笛,说不定还在写情调悲凉的诗句.奥斯本怪他泄漏了秘密,走进来对他叫嚷道:"谁叫你多嘴把我的事情说给人家听的?凭什么让联队里的人知道我要结婚了?那个碎嘴子老婆子佩琪.奥多,今天索性在吃晚饭的时候拿着我的名字胡说乱道.我订婚为什么要她替我宣传?谁要她嚷嚷得英格兰.苏格兰.爱尔兰人人都知道!都宾,你有什么权利告诉人家说我已经订过婚了?我的事干吗要你管?"     都宾上尉分辩道:"我以为......"     年轻的一个打断他说道:"呸!你以为!我知道我沾你不少光,哼!知道得清楚着呢!可是别以为你比我大了五岁,你就有权利老是教训我.你那自以为了不起的腔调儿,算可怜我吗?算照顾我吗?哼,我才不受你这一套儿!哼!可怜我!照顾我!咱们倒得说说明白我哪点儿不如你!"     都宾上尉插嘴道:"你到底订了婚没有呢?"     "我订婚不订婚与你什么相干?与这儿的人什么相干?"     都宾接下去说道:"你觉得订了婚难为情吗?"     乔治答道:"你有什么权利问我这话?咱们倒得说说明白."     都宾霍的站起来问道:"老天爷!难道你想解约吗?"     乔治发狠道:"你的意思,就是问我究竟是不是一个君子人,对不对啊?你近来对我说话的口气,我受不了!"     "怎么了?乔治,我不过叫你别怠慢这么一个好女孩子.你进城的时候,应该去看看她,少到圣.詹姆士那儿的赌场里去."     乔治冷笑一声说:"想来你是要问我讨债."     都宾答道:"当然,我向来追着你要债的,对不对?这才像宽宏大量的人说的话."     乔治心里一阵悔恨,说道:"威廉,别生我的气.天知道你帮我忙的地方可多了.你帮我渡了几十个难关,那回禁卫军里的克劳莱赢了我那么一大笔钱,全亏了你,要不然我早就完了.在这一点上我很明白.可是你不该对我那么苛刻,成天教训我一泡大道理.我很喜欢爱米丽亚.还有,我爱她��,什么��,这一套儿我也不缺.你别生气啊!我知道她十全十美,可是不费心思得来的东西实在没有什么意思.唉!咱们的联队刚从西印度群岛调回来,我总得放开手乐一下啊.结婚以后我准会改过.大丈夫一言为定!都宾,别跟我过不去.下个月我爹准会给我好些零用钱,我还你一百镑得了.现在我就去向海维托帕告假,明天进城瞧爱米丽亚去.得了,这样你总满意了吧?"     上尉是好性子,回答道:"乔治,谁能够老生你的气呢?至于银钱的事情呢,好小子,到我为难的时候你当然肯跟我同甘共苦的."     "对!都宾,我肯的."乔治的口气真是慷慨大度,虽然他从来没有多余的钱分给别人.     "我希望你干完了这些荒唐事就算过了瘾,乔治.那天可怜的爱米小姐问起你,如果你看见她当时的脸色,准会把所有的弹子都扔个光.你这小混蛋,快去安慰安慰他吧.你该写封长信给她,随便怎么让她乐一下子.她又不希望什么大好处."     中尉志得意满的说道:"我想她一心一意的爱我."说完,他回到饭堂里找着了几个爱作乐的朋友一起去消磨那一黄昏.     那时候爱米丽亚正在看月亮.月光照着宁静的勒塞尔广场,也照着奥斯本中尉所属的契顿姆军营.爱米丽亚望着月亮,心下思量不知她的英雄在干些什么.她想:"也许他在巡查哨兵,也许在守夜,也许在看护受伤的伙伴.再不然,就是在屋里冷清清的研究兵法."她满心的关切仿佛化作生了翅膀的天使,顺着河流直飞到契顿姆和洛却斯脱,竭力想在乔治的军营里偷看一眼.那时大门已经关上,哨兵不放闲人出入.我细细想了一想,那可怜的白衣天使倒是进不去的好,因为小伙子们一面喝着威士忌调的五味酒,一面放开喉咙唱歌,还是不看心净.     奥斯本这小伙子在契顿姆军营里和都宾谈过一席话以后,第二天便要表示自己守信用,准备进城,都宾上尉听了十分赞赏.奥斯本私下和他朋友说:"我想送点儿什么给她,可是我爸爸一日不给钱,我就一日没钱花."都宾不忍看着这样的好心和慷慨受到挫折,便借给他几镑钱.乔治稍微推了一下,也就收下了.     我想他原来倒是打算买一件漂亮的礼物送给爱米丽亚的,可是后来在弗利脱街下车,看见一家珠宝店的橱窗里摆着一只美丽的别针,心痒痒的想要;买了别针之后,手里所余无几,有了好心也没法使了.反正爱米丽亚需要的并不是礼物.他一到勒塞尔广场,她就仿佛照着了阳光,脸上登时发亮.他那眼熟的笑容有一股不可抵抗的魔力,爱米丽亚多少天来牵心挂肚,淌眼抹泪,心里疑疑惑惑,晚上胡思乱想睡不着,一看见他,顷刻之间把一切忧虑都忘得精光.他站在客厅门口对她满面春风的笑着,样子雄壮得像个天神,连他的胡子也跟天神的一样好看.三菩满面堆着同情的笑容,说道:"奥斯本上尉来了."(他替他加了一级)女孩儿吓了一跳,脸红起来.她本来在窗口的老地方守望,立刻跳起身来.三菩见了连忙退出去.门一关上,她翩然飞来,伏在乔治.奥斯本中尉的胸口上,仿佛此地才是她的家.可怜你这喘息未定的小鸟儿,你在树林里挑中了一棵枝干硬直.叶子浓密的好树,准备在上面做窠,在上面唱歌.你哪里知道,也许这棵树已经被人选中,不久就会给斫了下来呢?将人比树,原是从古以来沿用的习惯.(希腊诗人荷马《伊利亚特》一书中第十七节,梅尼劳杀死由福勃思,荷马以狂风吹折橄榄树作比喻.)     当时乔治很温柔的吻了她的前额和泪光晶莹的眼睛,对她很慈祥很和蔼.她瞧着他衬衫上的别针(以前从来没见他戴过的),只觉得一辈子没有见过这么好看的装饰品.     细心的读者看了年轻的奥斯本中尉刚才的行事,听了他和都宾上尉一段简短的谈话,大概已经明白他的为人.一个看破世情的法国人曾经说过,在恋爱的过程中,两个当事人,一个主动的爱人,另外的一个不过是开恩赏脸让对方来爱自己.那痴情的种子有时候是男的,有时候是女的.有些着了迷的情郎瞧着心爱的女人样样都好;她麻木不仁,只说是端庄;她痴呆混沌,只说是姑娘家腼腆贞静.总而言之,明明一只呆雁,偏要算是天鹅.那女的呢,自己幻想得天花乱坠,其实所崇拜的不过是一头驴子.男的是块木头,她就佩服他那大丈夫的纯朴;男的自私自利,她就崇拜他那男子汉的尊贵;男的是个笨蛋,她只说他不苟言笑,举止庄重;简直像美丽的蒂妲尼亚仙后对待雅典城里那织布匠(莎士比亚《仲夏夜之梦》一剧中,仙后眼睛里滴上迷药之后,爱上了一个驴头人身的怪物.这怪物原是雅典城里的织布匠,给恶作剧的精灵泼克换了个驴头.)的光景.这类阴错阳差的笑话,都是我亲眼看见的.毫无疑问的,爱米丽亚相信她的情人是全国最勇敢最出色的人物.奥斯本中尉的意见也和她的差不多.     他确是爱在外面胡闹,可是年轻人像他一样的多的是,而且女孩子们宁可要浪荡子,不喜欢扭扭捏捏的脓包.眼前他仍旧是少年荒唐,但是不久就会改过.如今大局平靖(指１８１４年５月３０日签订的第一次巴黎和约.),他也想从此脱离军队.因为那科西嘉魔王已给幽禁在爱尔巴岛上,以后还有什么机会升迁,什么机会炫耀他了不起的武艺和勇气呢?他父亲给他的月钱加上爱米丽亚的嫁妆,够他们生活了.他准备在乡下找个舒服的去处,适宜于打猎的地段,经营经营田地,打打猎,两个人快快活活过日子.结了婚仍旧留在军队里是不行的.难道让乔治.奥斯本太太在小市镇上租两间屋子住下来吗?如果他调到东.西印度群岛去,那就更糟糕.她只能和一大堆军官混在一起,倒得让奥多太太对她卖老.奥斯本讲起奥多太太的故事,把爱米丽亚笑的动不得.他太爱她,不忍叫她跟那讨厌的.俗气的女人在一起.再说,做军人的妻子生活很艰苦,他也舍不得让她受委屈.他自己倒没有关系......他才不在乎呢!可是他的小宝贝儿却应该在上流社会出入.做了他的妻子,这点福气是应该享的.他这么提议,爱米丽亚当然应承下来.他不管说什么她都肯照办的.     这一对儿年轻男女谈谈说说,架起不知多少空中楼阁.爱米丽亚筹划着怎么布置各色花园,怎么在乡村里的小路上散步,怎么上教堂,开圣经班等等;乔治却想着要养狗养马,置备好酒.他们两人就这样很愉快的消磨了两个钟头.中尉只能在伦敦耽搁一天,而且有许多要紧的事等他去办,便提议叫爱米小姐过他家去跟未来的大姑小姑一起吃晚饭.爱米丽亚很高兴的接受了他的邀请.他把她带到姊妹那里,自己去办自己的事了.爱米丽亚那天有说有笑,两位奥斯本小姐大出意外,心想或许乔治将来真能把她训练得像个样子也说不定.     乔治先在却林市场点心铺子里吃冰淇淋,再到帕尔莫尔大街试外套,又在斯洛德咖啡馆老店(老店由汤姆士.斯洛德在１６９２年开设.另有新店,在１７６０年开设.)耽搁一会儿,最后便去拜访加能上尉.他和上尉打弹子,玩了十一场,赢了八场.等他回到勒塞尔广场,比家里规定吃晚饭的时候已经迟了半点钟,不过兴致却很好.     奥斯本老先生可不是这样.他从市中心回来,走进客厅,他的两个女儿和那斯文典雅的乌德小姐都上前来欢迎他.她们看了他的脸色......那张脸总是板着,最好看的时候也是黄胖浮肿的......她们见他满面怒容,黑眉毛一牵一扯,知道他那宽大的白背心后面准是藏着一腔心事,烦恼大着呢.爱米丽亚向来和他见面的时候总是慌得索索抖,那天她走上前来,老头儿很不客气的咕哝了一声,表示跟她打招呼.他那毛茸茸的大爪子把爱米的小手马马虎虎拉一拉就算了事,然后一脸没好气的样子,回头向大女儿瞅了一眼.大小姐懂得这眼色就是说:"她到这儿来干什么?"忙说道:"爸爸,乔治进城来了.他这会儿在骑兵营,今儿晚上回家吃晚饭."     "哦,他来了.我可不高兴等他,吉恩."说了这句话,这位贤明的好人往自己的椅子里一倒.这间幽雅而且陈设讲究的客厅里静得一丝儿声音都听不见,只有法国式大钟滴答滴答的走着,仿佛它也有些心慌意乱.     这只大钟的顶上安着黄铜的装饰,塑的是伊菲琪娜亚(当希腊军进攻特洛伊的时候,国内的人要讨好狄安娜女神,准备杀死她作为祭献.女神大发慈悲,一阵风把她摄去.当祭师举刀要杀她的时候,发现祭坛上的伊菲琪娜亚不见了,只有一腔羊.)做牺牲的故事,那些铜人儿都是欢欢喜喜的样子.一会儿,钟打五下......那声音又重又深,很像教堂的钟声......奥斯本先生便把他右边的铃带子狠狠的拉了一下.佣人头儿慌忙从楼下上来,奥斯本先生对他大声喝道:"开饭!"     佣人答道:"老爷,乔治先生还没有回来."     奥斯本先生沉着脸说道:"乔治先生干我屁事!混帐!我才是这儿的主人.给我开饭!"爱米丽亚吓得直哆嗦,其余的三个小姐互相使眼色通了个电报,屋子底层立刻乖乖的打起铃子催吃饭.铃声一停下来,一家之主不等佣人来请,把手插在蓝大衣的大口袋里(他的大衣外面钉着一排黄铜扣子),自管自大踏步往楼下走,一面回头向四个女的瞪了一眼.     她们站起身来小心翼翼的跟在父亲后面走下去,其中一位小姐问道:"亲爱的,到底是怎么一回事?"     乌德小姐轻轻答道:"大概是公债跌价."一群女人不敢作声,战战兢兢的跟着满面怒容的领队人下去,不声不响的在各人自己的位子上坐好.吃饭前他粗声祈祷,听上去只像咒骂.过后当差的上来开了银子的碗碟盖.爱米丽亚怕得直发抖,因为她恰巧坐在可怕的奥斯本先生旁边,而且乔治不在,桌子这边空了一个位子,只剩她一个人.     奥斯本先生抓紧了大汤匙,两眼瞅着她,声音阴沉沉的问道:"要汤吗?"他把汤分给大家,也不说话.     半晌,他开口道:"把赛特笠小姐的汤拿下去.她吃不下去,我也吃不下去.这种东西简直不能入口.赫格思,把汤给拿掉.吉恩,明天叫那厨子滚蛋."     奥斯本先生骂完了汤,又骂鱼.简短的批评都是不留情的挖苦.他狠狠的咒骂别灵斯该脱鱼市场,那股蛮劲儿倒跟市场上出来的人不相上下(别灵斯该脱(Ｂｉｌｌｉｎｇｓｇａｔｅ)是伦敦最大的鱼市场,鱼贩子出名的会骂人.).此后他又不说话了,喝了几杯闷酒,脸色越来越凶恶.忽然一阵轻快的打门声,大家知道乔治回家了,都吐了一口气.     他说他不能早回家,因为达苟莱将军留他在骑兵营里等了好久.鱼也吧,汤也吧,不吃都没有关系.随便给他什么都行......他不在乎.羊肉做得妙极了.样样东西都妙极了.他的随和脾气和他爸爸难说话的样子恰好相反.吃饭的时候他不停口的谈天说地,大家听了心里都喜欢.不消说有一个人比别人更喜欢,我也不必提名道姓.     在奥斯本先生的宅子里,每逢沉闷的筵席快完的时候,听差照例献上橘子和酒;小姐们把这两种东西品评了一番,便打个暗号,大家离开座位,轻轻悄悄的移步到客厅里去.客厅就在饭间楼上,里面搁着一架横丝大钢琴,腿上镂着花,上面覆着皮罩子.爱米丽亚希望乔治不久就会上来找她,在钢琴前面坐下弹了几支他最爱听的圆舞曲(当年这些曲子刚从外国传进来).可是她使了这小手段却没有把乔治引上楼来.乔治的心根本不在这些曲子上.弹琴的人失望得很,越弹越没有劲儿,不久就离开了大钢琴.她的三个朋友搬出她们常奏的一套曲子里头最响亮动听的歌儿弹给她听,可是她一点儿都听不进去,只坐着发怔,担心不吉利的事情会临到她头上来.奥斯本老头儿那怒目攒眉的样子本来就够怕人的,可是像这样狠毒的表情还是第一回看见.他直瞪瞪的瞧着那女孩子走出饭间,仿佛她犯了什么过错.上咖啡的时候,爱米丽亚心惊肉跳,倒像管酒的赫格思递给她的是一杯毒药.这里面究竟有什么奥妙呢?唉!这些女人真要命!一见了什么不祥之兆,就牢牢记在心里丢不开,越是可怕的心思,越加宝贝,仿佛为娘的总是格外宠爱残废的儿女一般.     乔治.奥斯本看见爸爸脸上不开展,心里也在焦急.他实在需要钱,可是父亲气色不善,眉毛那么拧着,怎么能从他那儿榨得出钱来呢?平常的时候,要讨老头儿喜欢,只要称赞他的酒,没有不成的.乔治便开口夸他的酒味好.     "我们在西印度群岛从来喝不到您这么好的西班牙白酒.那天您送来的那些,海维托帕上校拿了三瓶,塞在腰带底下走掉了."     老头儿答道:"是吗?八先令一瓶呢."     乔治笑道:"六基尼一打,您卖不卖?有个国内数一数二的大人物也想买呢."     老的咕哝道:"哦?希望他买得着."     "达苟莱将军在契顿姆的时候,海维托帕请他吃早饭,就问我要了些酒.将军喜欢得了不得,要想买些送给总指挥.他是摄政王的亲信."     "这酒的确不错,"这么说着,那两条眉毛开展了一些.乔治正想趁他喜欢,就势提出零用钱的问题,他爸爸却叫他打铃催佣人送红酒上来.老头儿脸上虽然没有笑容,气色已经和缓了不少.他说:"乔治,咱们尝尝红酒是不是跟白酒一样好.摄政王肯赏光的话,就请他喝.咱们喝酒的时候,我想跟你商量一件要紧事."     爱米丽亚在楼上心神不宁,听得底下打铃要红酒,觉得铃声中别有含蓄,是个不吉利的预兆.有些人到处看见预兆,在这么多的预兆里面,当然有几个会应验的.     老头儿斟了一杯酒,咂着嘴细细尝了一尝,说道:"乔治,我想问你的就是这个.呃......你跟楼上的那个小女孩子究竟怎么样?"     乔治很得意的笑了一笑说:"我想这件事情很清楚.谁都看得出来.喝!这酒真不错."     "谁都看得出来......你这话什么意思?"     "咳!您别追得我太紧啊.我不是爱夸口的人.我......呃......我也算不上什么调情的圣手.可是我坦白说一句,她一心都在我身上,非常的爱我.随便什么人一看就知道."     "你自己呢?"     "咦,你不是命令我娶她来着?我难道不是个听话的乖儿子?我们两家的爸爸早就把这件事放定了."     "听话的乖儿子!别以为我不知道你在干什么.听说你老是和泰困勋爵.骑兵营的克劳莱上尉.杜西斯先生那一堆人在一伙儿混.小心点儿,哼,小心点儿."     老头儿说起这些高贵的名字,津津有味.每逢他遇见有身分的人物,便卑躬屈节,勋爵长,勋爵短,那样子只有英国的自由公民才做得出.他回家之后,立刻拿出《缙绅录》来把这个人的身世细细看个明白,从此便把他的名字挂在嘴边,在女儿面前也忍不住提着勋爵的大名卖弄一下.他爬在地上让贵人的光辉照耀着他,仿佛拿波里的叫化子晒太阳.乔治听见父亲说起这许多名字,心下着忙,生怕自己跟他们在一起赌博的情形给吹到了老子耳朵里去.幸而他一会儿就放了心,因为那有年纪的道学先生眉目开朗的说道:"得了,得了,小伙子总脱不了小伙子的本色.乔治,我的安慰,就是瞧着你的朋友都是上流阶级有身分的人.我希望你和他们来往,我想你也没有辜负我的心.再说,我的力量也够得到"     .乔治趁势进攻,说道:"多谢您,和大人物在一起来往非得有钱才行.瞧我的钱袋."他举起爱米丽亚替他织的小钱包给父亲看,里面只剩一张一镑钞票,还是都宾借给他的.     "你不会短钱使的.英国商人的儿子决不会没有钱使.乔治,好孩子,我的钱跟他们的钱一样中用呢.而且我也不死扣着钱不放.明天你到市中心去找我的秘书巧伯先生,他会给你钱.我只要知道你结交的都是上等人,我也就舍得花钱了,因为我知道上等人不会走邪路.我这人一点儿不骄傲.我自己出身低微,可是你的机会好着哪.好好的利用一下吧.多跟贵族子弟来往来往.孩子,他们里面有些还不如你呢;你能花一基尼的地方,他们一块钱都拿不出.至于女人呢,"(说到这里,浓眉毛色眯眯的笑了一笑,那样子又狡猾又讨厌)"小伙子都免不了有这一手,倒也罢了.只有一件事,赌钱是万万行不得的.你要不听话,我的家产一个子儿都不给你!"     乔治说:"您说的对,爹."     "闲话少说,爱米丽亚这件事怎么样?乔治,我不懂你干吗不打算高高的攀一门亲事,只想娶个证券经纪人的女儿."     乔治夹开榛子吃着说:"这门亲是家里定的.您跟赛特笠先生不知道多少年前就叫我们订了婚了."     "这话我倒承认.可是我们在社会上的地位是要变的.当然��,赛特笠从前帮我发了财......或者应该这样说:赛特笠给我提了一个头,然后我靠着自己的天才和能力挣到今天,在伦敦城里蜡烛业同行里面,总算是高人一等的了.我对赛特笠,也算报过恩了.近来他常常找我帮忙,不信你去瞧瞧我的支票本子.乔治,我私下和你说一句,赛特笠先生近来在生意上大大的不行.我的总书记巧伯先生也这么说.巧伯是这里头的老手,伦敦交易所里的动静他比谁都清楚.赫尔格和白洛克合营银行的人如今见了赛特笠也想回避.我看他是一个人在胡闹才弄到这步田地的.他们说小埃密莲号本来是他的,后来给美国私掠舰糖浆号拿了去.反正除非他把爱米丽亚的十万镑嫁妆拿出来给我瞧过,你就不准娶她.这件事是不能含糊的.我可不要娶个破产经纪人的女儿进门作媳妇.把酒壶递给我,要不,打铃子让他们把咖啡送上来也好."     说着,奥斯本先生翻开晚报来看.乔治知道他父亲的话已经说完,准备打盹儿了.     他兴兴头头的上楼来找爱米丽亚,那夜对她分外的殷勤,又温存,又肯凑趣,谈锋又健.他已经有好多时候没有对她这么好,为什么忽然改变了态度呢?莫非是他心肠软,想着她将来的苦命而怜惜她吗?还是因为这宝贝不久就会失去而格外看重它呢?     此后好几天里面,爱米丽亚咀嚼着那天晚上的情景,回味无穷.她想着乔治说的话,唱的歌,他的面貌形容,他怎么弯下身子向着她,怎么在远处瞧着她.她觉得自来在奥斯本家里度过的黄昏,总没有那么短.三菩拿了披肩来接她回去的时候,她嫌他来的太早,差点儿发火,这真是以前从来没有的事.     第二天早上,乔治走来向她告别,温存了一会儿,然后他又赶到市中心,找着了他父亲的总管巧伯先生,要了支票,再转到赫尔格和白洛克合营银行,把支票换了满满一口袋现钱.乔治走进银行的时候,恰巧碰见约翰.赛特笠老先生愁眉苦脸的从行里的客厅里出来.忠厚的老经纪人嗒丧着脸儿,把一双倦眼望着乔治,可是他的干儿子得意扬扬,根本没有留心到他.往常只要老头儿到银行里去,小白洛克总是堆着笑送客,那天却不见他出来.     银行的弹簧门关上之后,行里的会计员......他的职务对大家最有益处,就是从抽屉里数出硬括括的钞票,从铜兜数出一块块的金镑......贵耳先生对右面桌子旁边那个名叫特拉佛的司账员挤挤眼睛.特拉佛也对他挤挤眼睛,轻轻的说道:"不行."     贵耳先生答道:"绝对不行!乔治.奥斯本先生,你的钱怎么个拿法?"乔治急急的拿了一把钞票塞在衣袋里,当晚在饭堂里就还了都宾五十镑.     也就在那天晚上,爱米丽亚写了一封充满柔情的长信给他.她心里的柔情蜜意满得止不住往外流,可是一方面她仍旧觉得不放心.她要打听奥斯本先生究竟为什么生气.是不是因为和他爸爸闹了意见呢?她可怜的爸爸从市中心回来的时候满腔心事,家里的人都在着急.她写了长长的四页,满纸痴情;她害怕,她又乐观,可又觉得兆头不大吉祥.     乔治看着信说:"可怜的小爱米......亲爱的小爱米.她多爱我啊!嗳唷,天哪!那五味酒喝了真头痛."这话说的不错,小爱米真是可怜.

CHAPTER XIV Miss Crawley at Home About this time there drove up to an exceedingly snug and well- appointed house in Park Lane, a travelling chariot with a lozenge on the panels, a discontented female in a green veil and crimped curls on the rumble, and a large and confidential man on the box. It was the equipage of our friend Miss Crawley, returning from Hants. The carriage windows were shut; the fat spaniel, whose head and tongue ordinarily lolled out of one of them, reposed on the lap of the discontented female. When the vehicle stopped, a large round bundle of shawls was taken out of the carriage by the aid of various domestics and a young lady who accompanied the heap of cloaks. That bundle contained Miss Crawley, who was conveyed upstairs forthwith, and put into a bed and chamber warmed properly as for the reception of an invalid. Messengers went off for her physician and medical man. They came, consulted, prescribed, vanished. The young companion of Miss Crawley, at the conclusion of their interview, came in to receive their instructions, and administered those antiphlogistic medicines which the eminent men ordered. Captain Crawley of the Life Guards rode up from Knightsbridge Barracks the next day; his black charger pawed the straw before his invalid aunt's door. He was most affectionate in his inquiries regarding that amiable relative. There seemed to be much source of apprehension. He found Miss Crawley's maid (the discontented female) unusually sulky and despondent; he found Miss Briggs, her dame de compagnie, in tears alone in the drawing-room. She had hastened home, hearing of her beloved friend's illness. She wished to fly to her couch, that couch which she, Briggs, had so often smoothed in the hour of sickness. She was denied admission to Miss Crawley's apartment. A stranger was administering her medicines--a stranger from the country--an odious Miss . . . --tears choked the utterance of the dame de compagnie, and she buried her crushed affections and her poor old red nose in her pocket handkerchief. Rawdon Crawley sent up his name by the sulky femme de chambre, and Miss Crawley's new companion, coming tripping down from the sick- room, put a little hand into his as he stepped forward eagerly to meet her, gave a glance of great scorn at the bewildered Briggs, and beckoning the young Guardsman out of the back drawing-room, led him downstairs into that now desolate dining-parlour, where so many a good dinner had been celebrated. Here these two talked for ten minutes, discussing, no doubt, the symptoms of the old invalid above stairs; at the end of which period the parlour bell was rung briskly, and answered on that instant by Mr. Bowls, Miss Crawley's large confidential butler (who, indeed, happened to be at the keyhole during the most part of the interview); and the Captain coming out, curling his mustachios, mounted the black charger pawing among the straw, to the admiration of the little blackguard boys collected in the street. He looked in at the dining-room window, managing his horse, which curvetted and capered beautifully--for one instant the young person might be seen at the window, when her figure vanished, and, doubtless, she went upstairs again to resume the affecting duties of benevolence. Who could this young woman be, I wonder? That evening a little dinner for two persons was laid in the dining-room--when Mrs. Firkin, the lady's maid, pushed into her mistress's apartment, and bustled about there during the vacancy occasioned by the departure of the new nurse--and the latter and Miss Briggs sat down to the neat little meal. Briggs was so much choked by emotion that she could hardly take a morsel of meat. The young person carved a fowl with the utmost delicacy, and asked so distinctly for egg-sauce, that poor Briggs, before whom that delicious condiment was placed, started, made a great clattering with the ladle, and once more fell back in the most gushing hysterical state. "Had you not better give Miss Briggs a glass of wine?" said the person to Mr. Bowls, the large confidential man. He did so. Briggs seized it mechanically, gasped it down convulsively, moaned a little, and began to play with the chicken on her plate. "I think we shall be able to help each other," said the person with great suavity: "and shall have no need of Mr. Bowls's kind services. Mr. Bowls, if you please, we will ring when we want you." He went downstairs, where, by the way, he vented the most horrid curses upon the unoffending footman, his subordinate. "It is a pity you take on so, Miss Briggs," the young lady said, with a cool, slightly sarcastic, air. "My dearest friend is so ill, and wo-o-on't see me," gurgled out Briggs in an agony of renewed grief. "She's not very ill any more. Console yourself, dear Miss Briggs. She has only overeaten herself--that is all. She is greatly better. She will soon be quite restored again. She is weak from being cupped and from medical treatment, but she will rally immediately. Pray console yourself, and take a little more wine." "But why, why won't she see me again?" Miss Briggs bleated out. "Oh, Matilda, Matilda, after three-and-twenty years' tenderness! is this the return to your poor, poor Arabella?" "Don't cry too much, poor Arabella," the other said (with ever so little of a grin); "she only won't see you, because she says you don't nurse her as well as I do. It's no pleasure to me to sit up all night. I wish you might do it instead." "Have I not tended that dear couch for years?" Arabella said, "and now--" "Now she prefers somebody else. Well, sick people have these fancies, and must be humoured. When she's well I shall go." "Never, never," Arabella exclaimed, madly inhaling her salts-bottle. "Never be well or never go, Miss Briggs?" the other said, with the same provoking good-nature. "Pooh--she will be well in a fortnight, when I shall go back to my little pupils at Queen's Crawley, and to their mother, who is a great deal more sick than our friend. You need not be jealous about me, my dear Miss Briggs. I am a poor little girl without any friends, or any harm in me. I don't want to supplant you in Miss Crawley's good graces. She will forget me a week after I am gone: and her affection for you has been the work of years. Give me a little wine if you please, my dear Miss Briggs, and let us be friends. I'm sure I want friends." The placable and soft-hearted Briggs speechlessly pushed out her hand at this appeal; but she felt the desertion most keenly for all that, and bitterly, bitterly moaned the fickleness of her Matilda. At the end of half an hour, the meal over, Miss Rebecca Sharp (for such, astonishing to state, is the name of her who has been described ingeniously as "the person" hitherto), went upstairs again to her patient's rooms, from which, with the most engaging politeness, she eliminated poor Firkin. "Thank you, Mrs. Firkin, that will quite do; how nicely you make it! I will ring when anything is wanted." "Thank you"; and Firkin came downstairs in a tempest of jealousy, only the more dangerous because she was forced to confine it in her own bosom. Could it be the tempest which, as she passed the landing of the first floor, blew open the drawing-room door? No; it was stealthily opened by the hand of Briggs. Briggs had been on the watch. Briggs too well heard the creaking Firkin descend the stairs, and the clink of the spoon and gruel-basin the neglected female carried. "Well, Firkin?" says she, as the other entered the apartment. "Well, Jane?" "Wuss and wuss, Miss B.," Firkin said, wagging her head. "Is she not better then?" "She never spoke but once, and I asked her if she felt a little more easy, and she told me to hold my stupid tongue. Oh, Miss B., I never thought to have seen this day!" And the water-works again began to play. "What sort of a person is this Miss Sharp, Firkin? I little thought, while enjoying my Christmas revels in the elegant home of my firm friends, the Reverend Lionel Delamere and his amiable lady, to find a stranger had taken my place in the affections of my dearest, my still dearest Matilda!" Miss Briggs, it will be seen by her language, was of a literary and sentimental turn, and had once published a volume of poems--"Trills of the Nightingale"--by subscription. "Miss B., they are all infatyated about that young woman," Firkin replied. "Sir Pitt wouldn't have let her go, but he daredn't refuse Miss Crawley anything. Mrs. Bute at the Rectory jist as bad--never happy out of her sight. The Capting quite wild about her. Mr. Crawley mortial jealous. Since Miss C. was took ill, she won't have nobody near her but Miss Sharp, I can't tell for where nor for why; and I think somethink has bewidged everybody." Rebecca passed that night in constant watching upon Miss Crawley; the next night the old lady slept so comfortably, that Rebecca had time for several hours' comfortable repose herself on the sofa, at the foot of her patroness's bed; very soon, Miss Crawley was so well that she sat up and laughed heartily at a perfect imitation of Miss Briggs and her grief, which Rebecca described to her. Briggs' weeping snuffle, and her manner of using the handkerchief, were so completely rendered that Miss Crawley became quite cheerful, to the admiration of the doctors when they visited her, who usually found this worthy woman of the world, when the least sickness attacked her, under the most abject depression and terror of death. Captain Crawley came every day, and received bulletins from Miss Rebecca respecting his aunt's health. This improved so rapidly, that poor Briggs was allowed to see her patroness; and persons with tender hearts may imagine the smothered emotions of that sentimental female, and the affecting nature of the interview. Miss Crawley liked to have Briggs in a good deal soon. Rebecca used to mimic her to her face with the most admirable gravity, thereby rendering the imitation doubly piquant to her worthy patroness. The causes which had led to the deplorable illness of Miss Crawley, and her departure from her brother's house in the country, were of such an unromantic nature that they are hardly fit to be explained in this genteel and sentimental novel. For how is it possible to hint of a delicate female, living in good society, that she ate and drank too much, and that a hot supper of lobsters profusely enjoyed at the Rectory was the reason of an indisposition which Miss Crawley herself persisted was solely attributable to the dampness of the weather? The attack was so sharp that Matilda--as his Reverence expressed it--was very nearly "off the hooks"; all the family were in a fever of expectation regarding the will, and Rawdon Crawley was making sure of at least forty thousand pounds before the commencement of the London season. Mr. Crawley sent over a choice parcel of tracts, to prepare her for the change from Vanity Fair and Park Lane for another world; but a good doctor from Southampton being called in in time, vanquished the lobster which was so nearly fatal to her, and gave her sufficient strength to enable her to return to London. The Baronet did not disguise his exceeding mortification at the turn which affairs took. While everybody was attending on Miss Crawley, and messengers every hour from the Rectory were carrying news of her health to the affectionate folks there, there was a lady in another part of the house, being exceedingly ill, of whom no one took any notice at all; and this was the lady of Crawley herself. The good doctor shook his head after seeing her; to which visit Sir Pitt consented, as it could be paid without a fee; and she was left fading away in her lonely chamber, with no more heed paid to her than to a weed in the park. The young ladies, too, lost much of the inestimable benefit of their governess's instruction, So affectionate a nurse was Miss Sharp, that Miss Crawley would take her medicines from no other hand. Firkin had been deposed long before her mistress's departure from the country. That faithful attendant found a gloomy consolation on returning to London, in seeing Miss Briggs suffer the same pangs of jealousy and undergo the same faithless treatment to which she herself had been subject. Captain Rawdon got an extension of leave on his aunt's illness, and remained dutifully at home. He was always in her antechamber. (She lay sick in the state bedroom, into which you entered by the little blue saloon.) His father was always meeting him there; or if he came down the corridor ever so quietly, his father's door was sure to open, and the hyena face of the old gentleman to glare out. What was it set one to watch the other so? A generous rivalry, no doubt, as to which should be most attentive to the dear sufferer in the state bedroom. Rebecca used to come out and comfort both of them; or one or the other of them rather. Both of these worthy gentlemen were most anxious to have news of the invalid from her little confidential messenger. At dinner--to which meal she descended for half an hour--she kept the peace between them: after which she disappeared for the night; when Rawdon would ride over to the depot of the 150th at Mudbury, leaving his papa to the society of Mr. Horrocks and his rum and water. She passed as weary a fortnight as ever mortal spent in Miss Crawley's sick-room; but her little nerves seemed to be of iron, as she was quite unshaken by the duty and the tedium of the sick- chamber. She never told until long afterwards how painful that duty was; how peevish a patient was the jovial old lady; how angry; how sleepless; in what horrors of death; during what long nights she lay moaning, and in almost delirious agonies respecting that future world which she quite ignored when she was in good health.--Picture to yourself, oh fair young reader, a worldly, selfish, graceless, thankless, religionless old woman, writhing in pain and fear, and without her wig. Picture her to yourself, and ere you be old, learn to love and pray! Sharp watched this graceless bedside with indomitable patience. Nothing escaped her; and, like a prudent steward, she found a use for everything. She told many a good story about Miss Crawley's illness in after days--stories which made the lady blush through her artificial carnations. During the illness she was never out of temper; always alert; she slept light, having a perfectly clear conscience; and could take that refreshment at almost any minute's warning. And so you saw very few traces of fatigue in her appearance. Her face might be a trifle paler, and the circles round her eyes a little blacker than usual; but whenever she came out from the sick-room she was always smiling, fresh, and neat, and looked as trim in her little dressing-gown and cap, as in her smartest evening suit. The Captain thought so, and raved about her in uncouth convulsions. The barbed shaft of love had penetrated his dull hide. Six weeks-- appropinquity--opportunity--had victimised him completely. He made a confidante of his aunt at the Rectory, of all persons in the world. She rallied him about it; she had perceived his folly; she warned him; she finished by owning that little Sharp was the most clever, droll, odd, good-natured, simple, kindly creature in England. Rawdon must not trifle with her affections, though--dear Miss Crawley would never pardon him for that; for she, too, was quite overcome by the little governess, and loved Sharp like a daughter. Rawdon must go away--go back to his regiment and naughty London, and not play with a poor artless girl's feelings. Many and many a time this good-natured lady, compassionating the forlorn life-guardsman's condition, gave him an opportunity of seeing Miss Sharp at the Rectory, and of walking home with her, as we have seen. When men of a certain sort, ladies, are in love, though they see the hook and the string, and the whole apparatus with which they are to be taken, they gorge the bait nevertheless-- they must come to it--they must swallow it--and are presently struck and landed gasping. Rawdon saw there was a manifest intention on Mrs. Bute's part to captivate him with Rebecca. He was not very wise; but he was a man about town, and had seen several seasons. A light dawned upon his dusky soul, as he thought, through a speech of Mrs. Bute's. "Mark my words, Rawdon," she said. "You will have Miss Sharp one day for your relation." "What relation--my cousin, hey, Mrs. Bute? James sweet on her, hey?" inquired the waggish officer. "More than that," Mrs. Bute said, with a flash from her black eyes. "Not Pitt? He sha'n't have her. The sneak a'n't worthy of her. He's booked to Lady Jane Sheepshanks." "You men perceive nothing. You silly, blind creature--if anything happens to Lady Crawley, Miss Sharp will be your mother-in-law; and that's what will happen." Rawdon Crawley, Esquire, gave vent to a prodigious whistle, in token of astonishment at this announcement. He couldn't deny it. His father's evident liking for Miss Sharp had not escaped him. He knew the old gentleman's character well; and a more unscrupulous old-- whyou--he did not conclude the sentence, but walked home, curling his mustachios, and convinced he had found a clue to Mrs. Bute's mystery. "By Jove, it's too bad," thought Rawdon, "too bad, by Jove! I do believe the woman wants the poor girl to be ruined, in order that she shouldn't come into the family as Lady Crawley." When he saw Rebecca alone, he rallied her about his father's attachment in his graceful way. She flung up her head scornfully, looked him full in the face, and said, "Well, suppose he is fond of me. I know he is, and others too. You don't think I am afraid of him, Captain Crawley? You don't suppose I can't defend my own honour," said the little woman, looking as stately as a queen. "Oh, ah, why--give you fair warning--look out, you know--that's all," said the mustachio-twiddler. "You hint at something not honourable, then?" said she, flashing out. "O Gad--really--Miss Rebecca," the heavy dragoon interposed. "Do you suppose I have no feeling of self-respect, because I am poor and friendless, and because rich people have none? Do you think, because I am a governess, I have not as much sense, and feeling, and good breeding as you gentlefolks in Hampshire? I'm a Montmorency. Do you suppose a Montmorency is not as good as a Crawley?" When Miss Sharp was agitated, and alluded to her maternal relatives, she spoke with ever so slight a foreign accent, which gave a great charm to her clear ringing voice. "No," she continued, kindling as she spoke to the Captain; "I can endure poverty, but not shame-- neglect, but not insult; and insult from--from you." Her feelings gave way, and she burst into tears. "Hang it, Miss Sharp--Rebecca--by Jove--upon my soul, I wouldn't for a thousand pounds. Stop, Rebecca!" She was gone. She drove out with Miss Crawley that day. It was before the latter's illness. At dinner she was unusually brilliant and lively; but she would take no notice of the hints, or the nods, or the clumsy expostulations of the humiliated, infatuated guardsman. Skirmishes of this sort passed perpetually during the little campaign--tedious to relate, and similar in result. The Crawley heavy cavalry was maddened by defeat, and routed every day. If the Baronet of Queen's Crawley had not had the fear of losing his sister's legacy before his eyes, he never would have permitted his dear girls to lose the educational blessings which their invaluable governess was conferring upon them. The old house at home seemed a desert without her, so useful and pleasant had Rebecca made herself there. Sir Pitt's letters were not copied and corrected; his books not made up; his household business and manifold schemes neglected, now that his little secretary was away. And it was easy to see how necessary such an amanuensis was to him, by the tenor and spelling of the numerous letters which he sent to her, entreating her and commanding her to return. Almost every day brought a frank from the Baronet, enclosing the most urgent prayers to Becky for her return, or conveying pathetic statements to Miss Crawley, regarding the neglected state of his daughters' education; of which documents Miss Crawley took very little heed. Miss Briggs was not formally dismissed, but her place as companion was a sinecure and a derision; and her company was the fat spaniel in the drawing-room, or occasionally the discontented Firkin in the housekeeper's closet. Nor though the old lady would by no means hear of Rebecca's departure, was the latter regularly installed in office in Park Lane. Like many wealthy people, it was Miss Crawley's habit to accept as much service as she could get from her inferiors; and good-naturedly to take leave of them when she no longer found them useful. Gratitude among certain rich folks is scarcely natural or to be thought of. They take needy people's services as their due. Nor have you, O poor parasite and humble hanger-on, much reason to complain! Your friendship for Dives is about as sincere as the return which it usually gets. It is money you love, and not the man; and were Croesus and his footman to change places you know, you poor rogue, who would have the benefit of your allegiance. And I am not sure that, in spite of Rebecca's simplicity and activity, and gentleness and untiring good humour, the shrewd old London lady, upon whom these treasures of friendship were lavished, had not a lurking suspicion all the while of her affectionate nurse and friend. It must have often crossed Miss Crawley's mind that nobody does anything for nothing. If she measured her own feeling towards the world, she must have been pretty well able to gauge those of the world towards herself; and perhaps she reflected that it is the ordinary lot of people to have no friends if they themselves care for nobody. Well, meanwhile Becky was the greatest comfort and convenience to her, and she gave her a couple of new gowns, and an old necklace and shawl, and showed her friendship by abusing all her intimate acquaintances to her new confidante (than which there can't be a more touching proof of regard), and meditated vaguely some great future benefit--to marry her perhaps to Clump, the apothecary, or to settle her in some advantageous way of life; or at any rate, to send her back to Queen's Crawley when she had done with her, and the full London season had begun. When Miss Crawley was convalescent and descended to the drawing- room, Becky sang to her, and otherwise amused her; when she was well enough to drive out, Becky accompanied her. And amongst the drives which they took, whither, of all places in the world, did Miss Crawley's admirable good-nature and friendship actually induce her to penetrate, but to Russell Square, Bloomsbury, and the house of John Sedley, Esquire. Ere that event, many notes had passed, as may be imagined, between the two dear friends. During the months of Rebecca's stay in Hampshire, the eternal friendship had (must it be owned?) suffered considerable diminution, and grown so decrepit and feeble with old age as to threaten demise altogether. The fact is, both girls had their own real affairs to think of: Rebecca her advance with her employers--Amelia her own absorbing topic. When the two girls met, and flew into each other's arms with that impetuosity which distinguishes the behaviour of young ladies towards each other, Rebecca performed her part of the embrace with the most perfect briskness and energy. Poor little Amelia blushed as she kissed her friend, and thought she had been guilty of something very like coldness towards her. Their first interview was but a very short one. Amelia was just ready to go out for a walk. Miss Crawley was waiting in her carriage below, her people wondering at the locality in which they found themselves, and gazing upon honest Sambo, the black footman of Bloomsbury, as one of the queer natives of the place. But when Amelia came down with her kind smiling looks (Rebecca must introduce her to her friend, Miss Crawley was longing to see her, and was too ill to leave her carriage)--when, I say, Amelia came down, the Park Lane shoulder-knot aristocracy wondered more and more that such a thing could come out of Bloomsbury; and Miss Crawley was fairly captivated by the sweet blushing face of the young lady who came forward so timidly and so gracefully to pay her respects to the protector of her friend. "What a complexion, my dear! What a sweet voice!" Miss Crawley said, as they drove away westward after the little interview. "My dear Sharp, your young friend is charming. Send for her to Park Lane, do you hear?" Miss Crawley had a good taste. She liked natural manners--a little timidity only set them off. She liked pretty faces near her; as she liked pretty pictures and nice china. She talked of Amelia with rapture half a dozen times that day. She mentioned her to Rawdon Crawley, who came dutifully to partake of his aunt's chicken. Of course, on this Rebecca instantly stated that Amelia was engaged to be married--to a Lieutenant Osborne--a very old flame. "Is he a man in a line-regiment?" Captain Crawley asked, remembering after an effort, as became a guardsman, the number of the regiment, the --th. Rebecca thought that was the regiment. "The Captain's name," she said, "was Captain Dobbin." "A lanky gawky fellow," said Crawley, "tumbles over everybody. I know him; and Osborne's a goodish-looking fellow, with large black whiskers?" "Enormous," Miss Rebecca Sharp said, "and enormously proud of them, I assure you." Captain Rawdon Crawley burst into a horse-laugh by way of reply; and being pressed by the ladies to explain, did so when the explosion of hilarity was over. "He fancies he can play at billiards," said he. "I won two hundred of him at the Cocoa-Tree. HE play, the young flat! He'd have played for anything that day, but his friend Captain Dobbin carried him off, hang him!" "Rawdon, Rawdon, don't be so wicked," Miss Crawley remarked, highly pleased. "Why, ma'am, of all the young fellows I've seen out of the line, I think this fellow's the greenest. Tarquin and Deuceace get what money they like out of him. He'd go to the deuce to be seen with a lord. He pays their dinners at Greenwich, and they invite the company." "And very pretty company too, I dare say." "Quite right, Miss Sharp. Right, as usual, Miss Sharp. Uncommon pretty company--haw, haw!" and the Captain laughed more and more, thinking he had made a good joke. "Rawdon, don't be naughty!" his aunt exclaimed. "Well, his father's a City man--immensely rich, they say. Hang those City fellows, they must bleed; and I've not done with him yet, I can tell you. Haw, haw!" "Fie, Captain Crawley; I shall warn Amelia. A gambling husband!" "Horrid, ain't he, hey?" the Captain said with great solemnity; and then added, a sudden thought having struck him: "Gad, I say, ma'am, we'll have him here." "Is he a presentable sort of a person?" the aunt inquired. "Presentable?--oh, very well. You wouldn't see any difference," Captain Crawley answered. "Do let's have him, when you begin to see a few people; and his whatdyecallem--his inamorato--eh, Miss Sharp; that's what you call it--comes. Gad, I'll write him a note, and have him; and I'll try if he can play piquet as well as billiards. Where does he live, Miss Sharp?" Miss Sharp told Crawley the Lieutenant's town address; and a few days after this conversation, Lieutenant Osborne received a letter, in Captain Rawdon's schoolboy hand, and enclosing a note of invitation from Miss Crawley. Rebecca despatched also an invitation to her darling Amelia, who, you may be sure, was ready enough to accept it when she heard that George was to be of the party. It was arranged that Amelia was to spend the morning with the ladies of Park Lane, where all were very kind to her. Rebecca patronised her with calm superiority: she was so much the cleverer of the two, and her friend so gentle and unassuming, that she always yielded when anybody chose to command, and so took Rebecca's orders with perfect meekness and good humour. Miss Crawley's graciousness was also remarkable. She continued her raptures about little Amelia, talked about her before her face as if she were a doll, or a servant, or a picture, and admired her with the most benevolent wonder possible. I admire that admiration which the genteel world sometimes extends to the commonalty. There is no more agreeable object in life than to see Mayfair folks condescending. Miss Crawley's prodigious benevolence rather fatigued poor little Amelia, and I am not sure that of the three ladies in Park Lane she did not find honest Miss Briggs the most agreeable. She sympathised with Briggs as with all neglected or gentle people: she wasn't what you call a woman of spirit. George came to dinner--a repast en garcon with Captain Crawley. The great family coach of the Osbornes transported him to Park Lane from Russell Square; where the young ladies, who were not themselves invited, and professed the greatest indifference at that slight, nevertheless looked at Sir Pitt Crawley's name in the baronetage; and learned everything which that work had to teach about the Crawley family and their pedigree, and the Binkies, their relatives, &c., &c. Rawdon Crawley received George Osborne with great frankness and graciousness: praised his play at billiards: asked him when he would have his revenge: was interested about Osborne's regiment: and would have proposed piquet to him that very evening, but Miss Crawley absolutely forbade any gambling in her house; so that the young Lieutenant's purse was not lightened by his gallant patron, for that day at least. However, they made an engagement for the next, somewhere: to look at a horse that Crawley had to sell, and to try him in the Park; and to dine together, and to pass the evening with some jolly fellows. "That is, if you're not on duty to that pretty Miss Sedley," Crawley said, with a knowing wink. "Monstrous nice girl, 'pon my honour, though, Osborne," he was good enough to add. "Lots of tin, I suppose, eh?" Osborne wasn't on duty; he would join Crawley with pleasure: and the latter, when they met the next day, praised his new friend's horsemanship--as he might with perfect honesty--and introduced him to three or four young men of the first fashion, whose acquaintance immensely elated the simple young officer. "How's little Miss Sharp, by-the-bye?" Osborne inquired of his friend over their wine, with a dandified air. "Good-natured little girl that. Does she suit you well at Queen's Crawley? Miss Sedley liked her a good deal last year." Captain Crawley looked savagely at the Lieutenant out of his little blue eyes, and watched him when he went up to resume his acquaintance with the fair governess. Her conduct must have relieved Crawley if there was any jealousy in the bosom of that life-guardsman. When the young men went upstairs, and after Osborne's introduction to Miss Crawley, he walked up to Rebecca with a patronising, easy swagger. He was going to be kind to her and protect her. He would even shake hands with her, as a friend of Amelia's; and saying, "Ah, Miss Sharp! how-dy-doo?" held out his left hand towards her, expecting that she would be quite confounded at the honour. Miss Sharp put out her right forefinger, and gave him a little nod, so cool and killing, that Rawdon Crawley, watching the operations from the other room, could hardly restrain his laughter as he saw the Lieutenant's entire discomfiture; the start he gave, the pause, and the perfect clumsiness with which he at length condescended to take the finger which was offered for his embrace. "She'd beat the devil, by Jove!" the Captain said, in a rapture; and the Lieutenant, by way of beginning the conversation, agreeably asked Rebecca how she liked her new place. "My place?" said Miss Sharp, coolly, "how kind of you to remind me of it! It's a tolerably good place: the wages are pretty good--not so good as Miss Wirt's, I believe, with your sisters in Russell Square. How are those young ladies?--not that I ought to ask." "Why not?" Mr. Osborne said, amazed. "Why, they never condescended to speak to me, or to ask me into their house, whilst I was staying with Amelia; but we poor governesses, you know, are used to slights of this sort." "My dear Miss Sharp!" Osborne ejaculated. "At least in some families," Rebecca continued. "You can't think what a difference there is though. We are not so wealthy in Hampshire as you lucky folks of the City. But then I am in a gentleman's family--good old English stock. I suppose you know Sir Pitt's father refused a peerage. And you see how I am treated. I am pretty comfortable. Indeed it is rather a good place. But how very good of you to inquire!" Osborne was quite savage. The little governess patronised him and persiffled him until this young British Lion felt quite uneasy; nor could he muster sufficient presence of mind to find a pretext for backing out of this most delectable conversation. "I thought you liked the City families pretty well," he said, haughtily. "Last year you mean, when I was fresh from that horrid vulgar school? Of course I did. Doesn't every girl like to come home for the holidays? And how was I to know any better? But oh, Mr. Osborne, what a difference eighteen months' experience makes! eighteen months spent, pardon me for saying so, with gentlemen. As for dear Amelia, she, I grant you, is a pearl, and would be charming anywhere. There now, I see you are beginning to be in a good humour; but oh these queer odd City people! And Mr. Jos--how is that wonderful Mr. Joseph?" "It seems to me you didn't dislike that wonderful Mr. Joseph last year," Osborne said kindly. "How severe of you! Well, entre nous, I didn't break my heart about him; yet if he had asked me to do what you mean by your looks (and very expressive and kind they are, too), I wouldn't have said no." Mr. Osborne gave a look as much as to say, "Indeed, how very obliging!" "What an honour to have had you for a brother-in-law, you are thinking? To be sister-in-law to George Osborne, Esquire, son of John Osborne, Esquire, son of--what was your grandpapa, Mr. Osborne? Well, don't be angry. You can't help your pedigree, and I quite agree with you that I would have married Mr. Joe Sedley; for could a poor penniless girl do better? Now you know the whole secret. I'm frank and open; considering all things, it was very kind of you to allude to the circumstance--very kind and polite. Amelia dear, Mr. Osborne and I were talking about your poor brother Joseph. How is he?" Thus was George utterly routed. Not that Rebecca was in the right; but she had managed most successfully to put him in the wrong. And he now shamefully fled, feeling, if he stayed another minute, that he would have been made to look foolish in the presence of Amelia. Though Rebecca had had the better of him, George was above the meanness of talebearing or revenge upon a lady--only he could not help cleverly confiding to Captain Crawley, next day, some notions of his regarding Miss Rebecca--that she was a sharp one, a dangerous one, a desperate flirt, &c.; in all of which opinions Crawley agreed laughingly, and with every one of which Miss Rebecca was made acquainted before twenty-four hours were over. They added to her original regard for Mr. Osborne. Her woman's instinct had told her that it was George who had interrupted the success of her first love-passage, and she esteemed him accordingly. "I only just warn you," he said to Rawdon Crawley, with a knowing look--he had bought the horse, and lost some score of guineas after dinner, "I just warn you--I know women, and counsel you to be on the look-out." "Thank you, my boy," said Crawley, with a look of peculiar gratitude. "You're wide awake, I see." And George went off, thinking Crawley was quite right. He told Amelia of what he had done, and how he had counselled Rawdon Crawley--a devilish good, straightforward fellow--to be on his guard against that little sly, scheming Rebecca. "Against whom?" Amelia cried. "Your friend the governess.--Don't look so astonished." "O George, what have you done?" Amelia said. For her woman's eyes, which Love had made sharp-sighted, had in one instant discovered a secret which was invisible to Miss Crawley, to poor virgin Briggs, and above all, to the stupid peepers of that young whiskered prig, Lieutenant Osborne. For as Rebecca was shawling her in an upper apartment, where these two friends had an opportunity for a little of that secret talking and conspiring which form the delight of female life, Amelia, coming up to Rebecca, and taking her two little hands in hers, said, "Rebecca, I see it all." Rebecca kissed her. And regarding this delightful secret, not one syllable more was said by either of the young women. But it was destined to come out before long. Some short period after the above events, and Miss Rebecca Sharp still remaining at her patroness's house in Park Lane, one more hatchment might have been seen in Great Gaunt Street, figuring amongst the many which usually ornament that dismal quarter. It was over Sir Pitt Crawley's house; but it did not indicate the worthy baronet's demise. It was a feminine hatchment, and indeed a few years back had served as a funeral compliment to Sir Pitt's old mother, the late dowager Lady Crawley. Its period of service over, the hatchment had come down from the front of the house, and lived in retirement somewhere in the back premises of Sir Pitt's mansion. It reappeared now for poor Rose Dawson. Sir Pitt was a widower again. The arms quartered on the shield along with his own were not, to be sure, poor Rose's. She had no arms. But the cherubs painted on the scutcheon answered as well for her as for Sir Pitt's mother, and Resurgam was written under the coat, flanked by the Crawley Dove and Serpent. Arms and Hatchments, Resurgam.--Here is an opportunity for moralising! Mr. Crawley had tended that otherwise friendless bedside. She went out of the world strengthened by such words and comfort as he could give her. For many years his was the only kindness she ever knew; the only friendship that solaced in any way that feeble, lonely soul. Her heart was dead long before her body. She had sold it to become Sir Pitt Crawley's wife. Mothers and daughters are making the same bargain every day in Vanity Fair. When the demise took place, her husband was in London attending to some of his innumerable schemes, and busy with his endless lawyers. He had found time, nevertheless, to call often in Park Lane, and to despatch many notes to Rebecca, entreating her, enjoining her, commanding her to return to her young pupils in the country, who were now utterly without companionship during their mother's illness. But Miss Crawley would not hear of her departure; for though there was no lady of fashion in London who would desert her friends more complacently as soon as she was tired of their society, and though few tired of them sooner, yet as long as her engoument lasted her attachment was prodigious, and she clung still with the greatest energy to Rebecca. The news of Lady Crawley's death provoked no more grief or comment than might have been expected in Miss Crawley's family circle. "I suppose I must put off my party for the 3rd," Miss Crawley said; and added, after a pause, "I hope my brother will have the decency not to marry again." "What a confounded rage Pitt will be in if he does," Rawdon remarked, with his usual regard for his elder brother. Rebecca said nothing. She seemed by far the gravest and most impressed of the family. She left the room before Rawdon went away that day; but they met by chance below, as he was going away after taking leave, and had a parley together. On the morrow, as Rebecca was gazing from the window, she startled Miss Crawley, who was placidly occupied with a French novel, by crying out in an alarmed tone, "Here's Sir Pitt, Ma'am!" and the Baronet's knock followed this announcement. "My dear, I can't see him. I won't see him. Tell Bowls not at home, or go downstairs and say I'm too ill to receive any one. My nerves really won't bear my brother at this moment," cried out Miss Crawley, and resumed the novel. "She's too ill to see you, sir," Rebecca said, tripping down to Sir Pitt, who was preparing to ascend. "So much the better," Sir Pitt answered. "I want to see YOU, Miss Becky. Come along a me into the parlour," and they entered that apartment together. "I wawnt you back at Queen's Crawley, Miss," the baronet said, fixing his eyes upon her, and taking off his black gloves and his hat with its great crape hat-band. His eyes had such a strange look, and fixed upon her so steadfastly, that Rebecca Sharp began almost to tremble. "I hope to come soon," she said in a low voice, "as soon as Miss Crawley is better--and return to--to the dear children." "You've said so these three months, Becky," replied Sir Pitt, "and still you go hanging on to my sister, who'll fling you off like an old shoe, when she's wore you out. I tell you I want you. I'm going back to the Vuneral. Will you come back? Yes or no?" "I daren't--I don't think--it would be right--to be alone--with you, sir," Becky said, seemingly in great agitation. "I say agin, I want you," Sir Pitt said, thumping the table. "I can't git on without you. I didn't see what it was till you went away. The house all goes wrong. It's not the same place. All my accounts has got muddled agin. You MUST come back. Do come back. Dear Becky, do come." "Come--as what, sir?" Rebecca gasped out. "Come as Lady Crawley, if you like," the Baronet said, grasping his crape hat. "There! will that zatusfy you? Come back and be my wife. Your vit vor't. Birth be hanged. You're as good a lady as ever I see. You've got more brains in your little vinger than any baronet's wife in the county. Will you come? Yes or no?" "Oh, Sir Pitt!" Rebecca said, very much moved. "Say yes, Becky," Sir Pitt continued. "I'm an old man, but a good'n. I'm good for twenty years. I'll make you happy, zee if I don't. You shall do what you like; spend what you like; and 'ave it all your own way. I'll make you a zettlement. I'll do everything reglar. Look year!" and the old man fell down on his knees and leered at her like a satyr. Rebecca started back a picture of consternation. In the course of this history we have never seen her lose her presence of mind; but she did now, and wept some of the most genuine tears that ever fell from her eyes. "Oh, Sir Pitt!" she said. "Oh, sir--I--I'm married ALREADY." 第 十 四 章    克劳莱小姐府上     约莫也在那个时候,派克街上来了一辆旅行马车,在一所舒服整齐的屋子前面停下来.车身上漆了斜方形的纹章;马车外面的后座上坐着一个女人,恼着脸儿,戴一块绿色面纱,头上一圈一圈的卷发;前面马车夫座位旁边是一个身材肥大的亲信佣人.原来这是咱们的朋友克劳莱小姐坐了马车从汉泊郡回家了.马车的窗户都关着;她的胖小狗,惯常总爱垂着舌头在窗口探头探脑,这一回却睡在那嗒丧脸儿的女人身上.马车一停,家里的佣人七手八脚从车身里搬出滚圆的一大团披肩.还有一位小姐,和这一堆衣服一路来的,也在旁边帮忙.这一堆衣服里面包着克劳莱小姐.大家把她抬到楼上躺下;卧房和床铺都已经好好的暖过,仿佛是准备迎接病人.当下派人去请了许多医生来.这些人看过病人,会商了一番,开了药方,便走了.克劳莱小姐的年轻伴儿在他们商量完毕之后,走来请示,然后把名医们开的消炎药拿去给病人吃.     第二天,禁卫军里的克劳莱上尉从武士桥军营骑马赶来.他的黑马系在他害病的姑妈的大门前,尥着蹄子踢地上的草.这位慈爱的近亲害了病,上尉问候得真亲热.看来克劳莱小姐病得着实不轻.上尉发现她的贴身女佣人(那嗒丧脸儿的女人)比平常更加愁眉苦脸,那个给克劳莱小姐做伴的布立葛丝小姐也独自一个人在客堂里淌眼抹泪.布立葛丝小姐听见她的好朋友得了病,急忙赶回家来,指望到病榻旁边去出力伺候.克劳莱小姐害了多少回病,还不总是她,布立葛丝,一力看护的吗?这一回人家竟然不许她到克劳莱小姐的房里去,偏让一个陌路人给她吃药......乡下来的陌路人......一个可恶的某某小姐......克劳莱小姐的伴侣说到此地,泣不成声.她那受了摧残的感情又无可发泄,只好把手帕掩着红鼻子哭起来.     罗登.克劳莱烦那嗒丧脸儿的女佣人进去通报一声,不久便见克劳莱小姐的新伴侣轻移细步从病房里走出来.他急忙迎上去,那位姑娘伸出小手来和他拉手,一面很轻蔑的对那不知所措的布立葛丝瞟了一眼.她招呼年轻的卫兵走出后客厅,把他领到楼下饭厅里去说话.这间饭厅曾经摆过多少大筵席,眼前却冷落得很.     他们两个在里面谈了十分钟,想来总是议论楼上那病人的病情.谈完话之后,就听得客厅里的铃子喀啷啷的响起来.克劳莱小姐的亲信,鲍尔斯,那胖大身材的佣人头儿,立刻进去伺候(不瞒你说,他两人相会的当儿,大半的时候他都在钥匙洞口偷听).上尉捻着胡子走到大门外,他那黑马还在干草堆里尥蹄子,街上一群孩子围着看得十分羡慕.他骑上马背,那马跳跃起来,把两只前蹄高高的提起,姿势非常优美.他带住马,两眼望着饭厅的窗口.那女孩子的身影儿在窗前一闪,转眼就不见了,想必她慈悲为怀,......又上楼去执行她那令人感动的职务了.     这位姑娘是谁呢?当夜饭间里整整齐齐摆了两个人吃的饭菜,她和布立葛丝小姐一同坐下来吃晚饭.新看护不在病人跟前的当儿,孚金乘便走进女主人房间里,来来回回忙着服伺了一会.     布立葛丝的感情受了激动,一口气哽在喉咙里,一点儿肉也吃不下.那姑娘很细致的切好了鸡,向布立葛丝要些沙司和着吃.她的口齿那么清楚,把可怜的布立葛丝吓了一跳.那种美味的沙司就搁在她面前,她拿着勺子去舀,把碗盏敲得一片响.这么一来,她索性又回到本来歇斯底里的形景,眼泪扑簌簌的哭起来.     那位姑娘对胖大身材的亲信鲍尔斯先生说道:"我看还是给布立葛丝小姐斟杯酒吧."鲍尔斯依言斟了一杯.布立葛丝呆呆的抓起酒杯,喘着气,抽抽噎噎的把酒灌了下去,然后哼唧了一下,把盆子里的鸡肉翻来翻去搬弄着.     那位姑娘很客气的说:"我看咱们还是自己伺候自己,不用费鲍尔斯先生的心了.鲍尔斯先生,我们要你帮忙的时候自会打铃叫你."鲍尔斯只得下楼,把他手下的听差出气,无缘无故恶狠狠的咒骂了他一顿.     那姑娘带些讽刺的口气,淡淡的说道:"布立葛丝小姐,何必这么伤心呢?"     布立葛丝一阵悲痛,呜呜的哭道:"我最亲爱的朋友害了病,又不......不......不肯见我."     "她没有什么大病.亲爱的布立葛丝小姐,你请放心吧.她不过是吃得太多闹出来的病,并不是什么大事.她现在身上好的多了.过不了几时就会复原的.眼前虽然软弱些,不过是因为放了血,用了药的缘故,不久就会大好的.你尽管放心,再喝杯酒吧."     布立葛丝呜咽道:"她为什么不叫我去看她呢?唉,玛蒂尔达,玛蒂尔达,我二十三年来尽心待你,难道你就这样报答可怜的亚萝蓓拉吗?"     那姑娘顽皮的微微一笑,说道:"别哭得太伤心,可怜的亚萝蓓拉.她说你伺候她不如我伺候的周到,所以不要你去.我自己并不喜欢一宵一宵的熬夜,巴不得让你做替工呢."     亚萝蓓拉说:"这多少年来,不就是我伺候那亲爱的人儿吗?到如今......"     "到如今她宁可要别的人伺候了.病人总是这样由着性儿闹,咱们也只能顺着她点儿.她病好了以后我就要回去的."     亚萝蓓拉把鼻子凑着嗅盐瓶子猛吸了一口气,嚷嚷着说:"不会的!不会的!"     那姑娘脾气和顺的叫人心里发毛.她说:"布立葛丝小姐,不会好呢还是不会走?得了吧,再过两个星期她就复原了.我也得回到女王的克劳莱,去教我的小学生,去瞧瞧她们的妈妈......她比咱们的朋友病得利害多了.亲爱的布立葛丝小姐,你不必妒忌我.我不过是个可怜的小姑娘,无倚无靠,也不会害人.我并不想在克劳莱小姐那儿讨好献勤,把你挤掉.我走了一个星期她准会把我忘掉.她跟你是多年的交情,到底不同些.给我点儿酒,亲爱的布立葛丝小姐,咱们交个朋友吧.我真需要朋友."     布立葛丝是个面软心慈的人,禁不住人家这么一求情,一句话都答不上来,只能伸出手来和她拉手,可是心里想着她的玛蒂尔达喜新厌旧丢了她,愈加伤心.半点钟之后,饭吃完了,利蓓加.夏泼小姐(说出来,你要诧异了;我很巧妙的说了半天"那位姑娘"的事,原来是她),回到楼上病房里,摆出怪得人意儿的嘴脸,和颜悦色的把可怜的孚金请出去."谢谢你,孚金姑娘,没有事了.你安排得真好.我用得着你的时候再打铃叫你吧."孚金答道:"多谢您."她走下楼来,一肚子妒火,又不好发作,憋得好不难受.     她走过二楼楼梯转角的时候,客厅的门忽然开了.难道是她满肚子的怨气把门吹开了不成?不是的,原来是布立葛丝偷偷的开了门.她正在充防护.受了怠慢的孚金一路下楼,脚底下鞋子吱吱�蔌�,手里拿着的汤碗汤匙叮叮当当,布立葛丝听得清楚着呢.     孚金一进门,她就问道:"怎么样,孚金?怎么样,琴?"     孚金摇头说道:"越来越糟糕,布小姐."     "她身子不好吗?"     "她只说了一句话.我问她是不是觉得舒服点儿了,她就叫我别嚼舌头.唉,布小姐,我再也想不到会有今天哪!"孚金说了这话,淌下泪来.     "孚金,这个夏泼小姐究竟是什么人?圣诞节的时候,我去拜望我的知心贴己的朋友们,里昂纳.德拉米牧师和他可爱的太太,在他们文雅的家庭里消受圣诞节的乐趣,没想到凭空来了一个陌路人,把我亲爱的玛蒂尔达的一颗心夺了去.唉,玛蒂尔达,你到今天还是我最心爱的朋友呀!"听了她用的字眼,就知道布立葛丝小姐是个多情人儿,而且有些文学家风味.她出过一本诗集,名叫《夜莺之歌》,是由书店预约出版的.     孚金答道:"布小姐,他们都着了她的迷了.毕脱爵士不肯放她走,可是又不敢违拗克劳莱小姐.牧师的女人别德太太也是一样,跟她好得一步不离.上尉疯了似的喜欢她.克劳莱先生妒忌的要死.克劳莱小姐害了病以后,只要夏泼小姐伺候,别的人都给赶得远远的.这个道理我就不明白,他们准是遭了什么魇魔法儿了."     那天晚上利蓓加通宵守着克劳莱小姐.第二夜,老太太睡得很香,利蓓加才能在东家床头的一张安乐椅上躺下来睡了几个钟头.过了不久,克劳莱小姐大大的复原了,利蓓加对她维妙维肖的模仿布立葛丝伤心痛哭,逗得她哈哈大笑.布立葛丝淌眼泪,擤鼻子,拿着手帕擦眼泪的样子,利蓓加学得入木三分,克劳莱小姐看得真高兴.给她治病的医生们见她兴致勃勃,也都十分欣喜.因为往常的时候,这位耽于逸乐的老太太只要害了一点儿小病,便愁眉哭眼的只怕自己活不长.     克劳莱上尉天天来向利蓓加小姐探听他姑妈的病情.老太太身体恢复得很快,所以可怜的布立葛丝竟得到许可进房去见她的东家.她是个多愁善感的人,她的心上压着怎么样的一股热情,她和朋友见面时有什么动人的形景,凡是软心肠的读者一定想像得出的.     不久克劳莱小姐就常把布立葛丝叫进屋里去做伴.利蓓加惯会当面模仿她,自己却绷着脸一丝儿笑容都没有,她那贤明的东家瞧着格外觉得有趣.     克劳莱小姐怎么会害了这场倒楣的病,逼得她离开兄弟从乡下赶回家来的呢?这原故说来很不雅,在我这本格调高雅.情感丰富的小说里写出来,老大不得体.你想,一位向来在上流社会里出入的斯文妇人,忽然因为吃喝过度而害起病来,这话怎的好出口?她自己定要说病是天气潮湿引出来的,其实却因为她在牧师家里吃晚饭,有一道菜是滚热的龙虾,她吃的津津有味,吃了又吃,就此病了.玛蒂尔达这一病害得真不轻,照牧师的口气说话,她差点儿没"翘了辫子".阖家的人急煎煎的等着看她的遗嘱.罗登.克劳莱盘算下来,伦敦热闹季节开始以前,自己手里至少能有四万镑.克劳莱先生挑了许多传教小册子,包成一包送给她;这样,她从名利场和派克街走到那世里去的时候,心上好有个准备.不料沙乌撒浦登地方有个有本领的医生及时赶到,打退了那几乎送她性命的龙虾,养足了她的力气,总算让她又回到伦敦.情势这么一转,从男爵大失所望,心里的懊恼全露在脸上.     那一阵大家忙着服伺克劳莱小姐,牧师家的专差隔一小时送一趟信,把她的病情报告给关心她的人听.那时在他们房子里还有一位太太在害重病,却没有一个人理会......那就是克劳莱夫人.那位有本领的医生也曾给她看过病,诊断过后,只是摇头.毕脱爵士没有反对医生去看她,因为反正不用另外出诊金.这以后大家随她一个人在房里病下去,仿佛她是园里的一根野草,没人管她.     小姑娘们也得不到老师的极有益处的教导了.夏泼小姐看护病人真是知疼着热,因此克劳莱小姐只要她一个人伺候吃药.孚金在她主人离开乡下之前早就失去了原来的地位.忠心的女佣人回到伦敦以后,看着布立葛丝小姐也和自己一样吃醋,一样受到无情无义的待遇,心里才气得过些.     克劳莱上尉因为他姑妈害病,续了几天假,在乡下做孝顺侄儿,天天守在前房伺候着(她睡的是正房,进去的时候得穿过蓝色小客厅).他的父亲也总在那儿和他碰头.只要他在廊里走过,不管脚步多么轻,老头儿准会把房门打开,伸出鬣狗似的脸儿对他瞪眼.他们两个为什么你看着我我防着你呢?想必父子俩赌赛谁的心好,都要对睡在正房受苦的人儿表示关切.利蓓加常常走出来安慰他们;说得恰切一些,她有的时候安慰爸爸,有的时候安慰儿子.两位好先生都着急得很,只想从病人的亲信那里刺探消息.     她每天下楼半点钟吃晚饭,一面给那父子两人做和事老.饭后她又上楼去,以后便一夜不出来了.这时罗登便骑马到墨特白莱镇上第一百零五师的军营里去;他爸爸和霍洛克斯做伴,一面喝搀水的甜酒.利蓓加在克劳莱小姐病房里的两星期,真是再耗精力也没有了.她的神经仿佛是铁打的,病房里的工作虽然又忙又烦,她倒仍旧不动声色.     直到后来她才把当日怎么辛苦的情形说给别人听.平时一团高兴的老太太害了病就闹脾气.她生气,睡不着觉,怕死;平日身体好,不理会死后到底是什么光景,病了之后越想越怕,失心疯似的整夜躺着哼哼唧唧.年轻美丽的读者啊,请你想一想,这老婆子自私,下流,没良心,不信宗教,只醉心于尘世上的快乐,她心里又怕,身上又痛,使劲儿在床上打滚,而且没戴假头发,像个什么样子!请你想想她那嘴脸,赶快趁现在年纪还小的时候,努力修德,总要有爱人敬天的心才好.     夏泼拿出坚韧不拔的耐心,守在这堕落的老婆子的病床旁边.什么事都逃不过她的眼睛.她像个持家勤俭的总管,在她手里没一件是无用的废物.好久以后,她谈起克劳莱小姐病中的各种小故事,羞得老太太脸上人工的红颜色后面又泛出天然的红颜色来.克劳莱小姐病着的时候,蓓基从来不发脾气.她做事爽利,晚上醒睡,而且因为良心干净,放倒头便睡熟了.在表面上看起来,她仍旧精神饱满.她的脸色比以前稍微白些,眼圈比以前稍微黑些,可是从病房出来的时候总是神清气爽,脸上笑眯眯的,穿戴也整齐.她穿了梳妆衣戴了睡帽,竟和她穿了最漂亮的晚礼服一样好看.     上尉心里正是这么想.他爱她爱得发狂,不时手舞足蹈做出许多丑态来.爱神的倒钩箭头把他身上的厚皮射穿了.一个半月来他和蓓基朝夕相处,亲近的机会很多,已经到了神魂颠倒的地步.不知怎的,他心里的秘密,不告诉别人,偏偏去告诉他婶子,那牧师的太太.她和他嘲笑了一会,说她早就知道他着了迷,劝他小心在意,可是又不得不承认夏泼这个小东西确是又聪明,又滑稽,又古怪,性情又好,心地又单纯忠厚,全英国找不出第二个这样的角色来.她警告罗登不准轻薄她,拿她当作玩意儿,要不然克劳莱小姐决不饶他,因为老太太本人也爱上了那家庭教师,把夏泼当女儿似的宝贝着呢.她说罗登还是离开乡下回到军队里去,回到万恶的伦敦去,别再戏弄这么一个纯洁的小可怜儿.     好心的牧师太太瞧着罗登可怜,有心顾惜他,时常帮他和夏泼小姐在牧师的宅子里相会,让他有机会陪她回家,这些事上面已经说过了.太太小姐们,有一种男人,在恋爱的时候是不顾一切的,明明看见人家安排下叫他们上钩的器具,仍旧会游过来把鱼饵一口吞下,不到一会儿功夫便给钓到岸上,只有喘气的份儿了.罗登看得很清楚,别德太太利用利蓓加来笼络他是别有用心的.他并不精明,可是究竟是个走外场的人,在伦敦交际场里又出入了几个年头,也算通明世故的了.有一回别德太太对他说了几句话,使他的糊涂脑袋里豁然开朗,自以为识破了她的计谋.     她说:"罗登,听我预言,总有一天夏泼小姐会做你的一家人."     那军官打趣她道:"做我的什么人呢?难道做我的堂弟妇吗?詹姆士看中了她啦?"     别德太太的黑眼睛里冒出火来,说道:"还要亲得多."     "难道是毕脱不成?那不行,这鬼鬼祟祟的东西配不上她的,再说他已经定给吉恩.希伯香克斯小姐了."     "你们这些男人什么都看不见.你这糊涂瞎眼的人哪,克劳莱夫人要有个三长两短,夏泼小姐就要做你的后娘了.你瞧着吧!"     罗登.克劳莱先生一听这话,诧异得不得了,大大的打了个唿哨儿.他不能反驳他婶子.他父亲喜欢夏泼小姐,他也看得出来;老头儿的性格,他也知道;比那老东西更不顾前后的人......他说到这里没有再说下去,大声打了个唿哨.回家的时候,他一边走一边捻胡子,自以为揭穿了别德太太的秘密.     罗登想道:"糟糕!糟糕!哼!我想那女的一心想断送那可怜的女孩儿,免得她将来做成了克劳莱夫人."     他看见利蓓加独自一个人的时候,就摆出他那斯文温雅的态度打趣她,说自己的爸爸爱上了她.她很轻蔑的扬起脸儿睁着眼说道:"他喜欢我又怎么样?我知道他喜欢我,不但他,还有别人也喜欢我呢.克劳莱上尉,你难道以为我怕他吗?难道以为我不能保全自己的清白吗?"这位姑娘说话的时候,样子尊贵得像个皇后.     捻胡子的人答道:"嗳唷,啊呀,我不过是警告你罢了.呃,留点儿神,就是了."     她眼中出火,说道:"那么你刚才说的话的确含有不正当的意思."     傻大个儿的骑兵插嘴道:"唉,天哪,唷,利蓓加小姐."     "难道你以为我穷,我没有亲人,所以也就不知廉耻了吗?难道有钱人不尊重,我也得跟着不尊重吗?你以为我不过是个家庭教师,不像你们汉泊郡的世家子弟那么明白,那么有教养讲情义,是不是啊?哼!我是蒙脱莫伦西家里出来的人.蒙脱莫伦西哪一点比不上你们克劳莱家呢?"     夏泼小姐一激动,再一提起她的不合法的外婆家,她的口音便添上一点儿外国腔,这样一来,她响亮清脆的声音更加悦耳.她接着说道:"不行!我能忍受贫穷,可是不能忍受侮辱.人家撂着我不理,我不在乎,欺负我可不能够!更不准......更不准你欺负我."她越说越激烈,感情汹涌,索性哭起来了.     "唉,夏泼小姐......利蓓加......天哪......我起誓......给我一千镑我也不敢啊.利蓓加,你别!"     利蓓加回身就走.那天她陪着克劳莱小姐坐了马车兜风(那时候老太太还没有病倒),吃晚饭的时候谈笑风生,比平常更活泼.着了迷的禁卫兵已经屈服,只管对她点头说风话,拙口笨腮的央告,利蓓加只装不知道.这一次两军相遇,这类的小接触一直没有停过,结局都差不多,说来说去的也叫人腻味.克劳莱重骑兵队每天大败,气得不得了.     女王的克劳莱镇上的从男爵只怕眼睁睁的瞧着他姊姊的遗产给人抢去.若不为这缘故,他再也不肯让那么有用的一个教师离开家里,累他的两个女儿荒疏了学业.利蓓加做人又有趣又有用,屋里少了她,真像沙漠似的没有生趣.毕脱爵士的秘书一走,信件没人抄,没人改,账目没人记,家下大小事务没人经管,定下的各种计划也没人执行.他写给利蓓加好些信,一会儿命令,一会儿央告,要她回去.只要看他信上的拼法和文章,就知道他实在需要一个书记.从男爵差不多每天都要寄一封信给蓓基,苦苦求她回家......信是由公共运输机关代送的,不要邮费.有的时候他也写信给克劳莱小姐,痛切的诉说两个小姑娘学业荒疏到什么程度.克劳莱小姐看了也不理会.     布立葛丝并没有给正式辞退,不过她只领干薪,若说她还在陪伴克劳莱小姐,却真是笑话了.她只能在客厅里陪着克劳莱小姐的胖小狗,偶然也在管家娘子的后房和那嗒丧着脸的孚金谈谈话.在另外一方面,克劳莱小姐虽然绝对不准利蓓加离开派克街,可也并没有给她一定的职务位置.克劳莱小姐像许多有钱人一样,惯会使唤底下人,尽量叫他们给自己当差,到用不着他们的时候,再客客气气的赶他们走.好些有钱人的心目中压根儿没有良心这件东西,在他们看来,有良心反而不近人情.穷人给他们做事,原是该当的.苦恼的食客,可怜的寄生虫,你也不必抱怨.你对于大依芙斯(大依芙斯(Ｄｉｖｅｓ)在拉丁文就是富人的意思.拉丁文《圣经.路加福音》第十六章里的有钱人就叫这名字.)的交情究竟有几分是真的呢?恐怕和他还给你的交情不相上下吧?你爱的是钱,不是人.倘若克罗塞斯(里底亚王国孟姆那迪王朝(公元前７１６—５４６)最后的一个君主,被称为全世界最富有的人.后来被波斯王沙勒斯所征服.)和他的听差换了地位,到那时候,可怜虫,你愿意奉承谁呢?反正你自己心里也是够明白的.     利蓓加心地老实,待人殷勤,性情又和顺,随你怎么样都不生气.她对老太太十分尽心,不但出力服侍,又替她做伴解闷.话虽这么说,我看这位精明的伦敦老太太对她仍旧有些信不过.克劳莱小姐准觉得没人肯为别人白白的当差.如果她把自己的标准来衡量别人的话,当然不难知道别人对她是怎么一回事.说不定她也曾想到,倘若一个人不把任何人放在心上,当然不能指望有什么真心朋友.     眼前她正用得着蓓基,有了她又舒服又方便,便送给她两件新衣服,一串旧的项链,一件披肩.她要对新相知表示亲热,便把老朋友一个个的痛骂.从她这种令人感动的行为上,就知道她对于利蓓加是真心的看重.她打算将来大大的给利蓓加一些好处,可也不十分清楚究竟是什么好处;也许把她嫁给那个当助手医生的克伦浦,或者安排她一个好去处,再不然,到伦敦最热闹的当儿,她用不着利蓓加了,就把她送回女王的克劳莱,这倒也是个办法.     克劳莱小姐病体复原,下楼到客厅里来休息,蓓基就唱歌给她听,或是想别的法子给她解闷.后来她有气力坐车出去散心了,也还是蓓基跟着出去.有一回,她们兜风兜到一个你想不到的地方,原来克劳莱小姐心地好,重情分,竟肯为利蓓加把马车赶到勃鲁姆斯白莱勒塞尔广场,约翰.赛特笠先生的门口.     不消说,她们到这里来拜访以前,两个好朋友已经通过好几次信了.我跟你直说了吧,利蓓加在汉泊郡的时候,她们两人永远不变的交情已经淡薄了不少.它仿佛已经年老力衰,只差没有死掉.两个姑娘都忙着盘算自己切身的利害:利蓓加要讨好东家,爱米丽亚的终身大事也使她心无二用.两个女孩儿一见面,立刻扑向前来互相拥抱.只有年轻姑娘才有那样的热忱.利蓓加活泼泼兴冲冲的吻了爱米丽亚.爱米丽亚呢,可怜的小东西,只怪自己冷淡了朋友,觉得不好意思,一面吻着利蓓加,一面羞得脸都红了.     她们第一次见面的时间很局促,因为爱米丽亚恰巧预备出门散步.克劳莱小姐在马车里等着,她的佣人们见车子到了这么一个地段,都在诧异.他们光着眼瞧着老实的黑三菩,勃鲁姆斯白莱这儿的听差,只当此地根生土长的人都像他一般古怪.后来爱米丽亚和颜悦色的走出大门(利蓓加一定要领她见见克劳莱小姐,她说老太太十分愿意结识她,可是身体不好,不能离开马车)......我刚才说到爱米丽亚走出大门,派克街穿号衣的贵族们看见勃鲁姆斯白莱这区里竟有这样的人物,都觉得惊讶.爱米虽然腼腆些,样子却是落落大方,上前见了她朋友的靠山.老太太看她脸蛋儿长得可人意,见了人羞答答的脸红,非常喜欢.     她们拜访以后,坐车向西去了.克劳莱小姐道:"亲爱的,她的脸色多好看!声音多好听!亲爱的夏泼,你的小朋友真讨人喜欢.几时叫她上派克街来玩儿,听见吗?"克劳莱小姐审美的见解很高明.她赏识大方的举止,怕羞一点不要紧,反而显得可爱.她喜欢漂亮的脸庞儿,就好像她喜欢美丽的图画和精致的瓷器一样.她醉心爱米丽亚的好处,一天里头连着说起她五六回.那天罗登.克劳莱到她家里来做孝顺侄儿,吃她的鸡,她也对他说起爱米丽亚.     利蓓加一听这话,当然立刻就说爱米丽亚已经订过婚了.未婚夫是一位奥斯本中尉,两个人从小是朋友.     克劳莱上尉问道:"他是不是属于常备军?"他究竟是禁卫军里的(禁卫军里的人自以为比常备军高一等.),想了一想,把部队的番号也说起来了,说是某师某联队.     利蓓加回说大概不错.她说:"他的上尉叫都宾."     克劳莱道:"我认识那人,他是个瘦骨伶仃的家伙,老撞在人家身上.奥斯本长得不难看,留着两片连鬓胡子,又黑又大,对不对?"     利蓓加.夏泼小姐说道:"大得不得了.他自以为胡子长得好看,得意得要命."     罗登.克劳莱上尉呵呵大笑了一阵,就算回答.克劳莱小姐和利蓓加逼着他解释,他笑完以后说道:"他自以为打弹子的技术很高明.我在可可树俱乐部和他赌钱,一下子就赢了他两百镑.这傻瓜,他也算会打弹子!那天要他下多大的赌注他都肯,可惜他的朋友都宾上尉把他拉走了,真讨厌!"     克劳莱小姐听了十分喜欢,说道:"罗登,罗登,不许这么混帐!"     "姑妈,常备军里出来的小伙子,谁也没有他那么傻.泰困和杜西斯常常敲他的竹杠,全不用费力气.他只要能和贵族子弟在公共场所同出同进,甘心当冤桶.他们在葛理纳治吃饭,总叫他付钱,他们还带了别的人一起去吃呢."     "我猜他们全是不成材的东西."     "你说的对,夏泼小姐.你还会错吗,夏泼小姐?全是些不成材的东西.哈哈!"上尉自以为这笑话说得很精采,愈笑愈高兴.     他姑妈嚷道:"罗登,不准淘气!"     "据说他父亲是做买卖的,阔的不得了.这些做买卖的家伙太混帐,非得好好的敲他们一笔竹杠不可.说老实话,我还想利用他一下呢.呵呵!"     "真丢人哪,克劳莱上尉.我得警告爱米丽亚一下,嫁个爱赌的丈夫可不是玩的."     上尉正色答道:"他真可恶,是不是?"忽然他灵机一动,说道:"喝!我说呀,姑妈,咱们请他上这儿来好不好!"     他姑妈问道:"他这人可还上得台盘吗?"     克劳莱上尉答道:"上台盘?哦,他很不错的,反正您看不出他跟别人有什么两样.过几天,到您身子健朗,能够见客的时候,咱们把他请来行不行?叫他跟他那个什么......有情人儿......(夏泼小姐,好像你是这么说来着)一起来.不知道他除了打弹子以外可还会用纸牌赌钱.夏泼小姐,他住在哪儿?"     夏泼小姐把中尉城里的地址给了克劳莱.几天之后,奥斯本中尉收到罗登上尉一封信,一笔字像小学生写的.信里附着克劳莱小姐的请帖.     利蓓加也送了一封信给亲爱的爱米丽亚,请她去玩.爱米丽亚听说乔治也去,当然马上答应下来.大家约好,请爱米丽亚早上先到派克街去跟克劳莱小姐和利蓓加会面.那儿大家都对她很好.利蓓加老实不客气的对她卖老.两个人比起来,利蓓加利害得多,再加上爱米丽亚天生的恭顺谦和,愿意听人指挥,因此利蓓加叫她怎么,她就怎么,虚心下气的,没半点儿不高兴.克劳莱小姐对于她的宠幸也真了不起.老太太仍旧像起初那样喜欢小爱米,当面夸奖她,极其慈爱的赞叹她的好处,仿佛她是个洋娃娃,或是个佣人,或是一幅画儿.有身份的贵人往往非常赏识普通的老百姓,这种精神真使我敬服.住在梅飞厄一带的大人物纡尊降贵的样子,我看着比什么都顺眼.可惜克劳莱小姐虽然百般怜爱,可怜的小爱米却嫌她太烦了.说不定她觉得派克街的三个女人里头,还是布立葛丝最对劲儿.她同情所有软弱和给人冷落的可怜虫,因此也同情布立葛丝.总而言之,她不是你我所谓性格刚强的人物.     乔治来吃晚饭;晚饭时没有别的人,就只他和克劳莱上尉两个单身汉子一块儿吃.     奥斯本家里的大马车把他从勒塞尔广场送到派克街.他的姊妹们没得着请帖.两个人嘴里表示满不在乎,却忍不住拿出缙绅录,找着了毕脱.克劳莱爵士的名字,把他家的宗谱和亲戚,像平葛等等,一句不漏的细看了一遍.罗登.克劳莱很诚恳谦和的接待乔治.奥斯本,称赞他打弹子的本领高强,问他预备什么时候翻本,又问起乔治联队里的情形.他原想当晚就和乔治斗牌赌钱,可是克劳莱小姐斩截地禁止任何人在她家里赌博,才算保全了年轻中尉的钱袋,没给他那勇敢的朋友倒空......至少那天晚上他没遭殃.他们约好第二天在另一个地方相会,先去看看克劳莱准备出卖的一匹马,到公园里去试试那匹马的脚力,然后吃晚饭,再跟几个有趣的同伴一起玩一黄昏.克劳莱挤眉弄眼的说道:"假如你明天不必上漂亮的赛特笠小姐家里去报到的话,咱们就算定了."承他的情又加了一句道:"真的,奥斯本,这女孩子了不起.我想她大概很有钱吧?"     奥斯本说他不必去报到,第二天一准去找克劳莱.下一天他们见了面之对,克劳莱一口夸奖新朋友的骑术高明(这倒用不着他撒谎),又介绍给他三四个朋友,都是第一流的时髦公子.年轻天真的军官因为有缘结识他们,觉得十分得意.     那晚他们两人喝酒的当儿,奥斯本做出倜傥风流的样子问道:"我想起来了,那位夏泼小姐怎么样啦?小姑娘脾气不错.她在女王的克劳莱还有用吗?去年赛特笠小姐倒挺喜欢她的."     克劳莱上尉睁起小蓝眼睛狠狠的瞪了中尉一眼.后来乔治上楼和漂亮的家庭教师叙旧,他还在细细的察看他的神情.如果禁卫兵心里妒忌的话,蓓基的行为一定使他放心释虑.     两个小伙子走到楼上,奥斯本先见过了克劳莱小姐,然后大摇大摆,倚老卖老的向利蓓加走过去.他原想装出保护人的嘴脸,和蔼可亲的和她说几句话儿.蓓基总算是爱米丽亚的朋友,他还打算给她拉手呢!他口里说:"啊,夏泼小姐,你好哇?"一面把左手伸出来,满以为蓓基会受宠若惊,慌得手足无措.     夏泼小姐伸出右手的二拇指,淡淡的把头一点,那神情真叫人奈何她不得,把个中尉怔住了.他顿了一顿,只得拉起利蓓加赏脸伸给他的手指头来握着.那狼狈的样子把隔壁房里的罗登.克劳莱看得几乎不曾失声大笑.     上尉狂喜不禁,说道:"喝!魔鬼也斗她不过的!"中尉要我些话和利蓓加搭讪,便很客气的问她喜欢不喜欢她的新职业.     夏泼小姐淡淡的说道:"我的职业吗?您还想着问我,可真是太客气了.我的职业还不错,工钱也不小......当然跟您的姊妹的家庭教师乌德小姐比起来还差一些.你家的小姐们好不好哇?其实我这话是不该问的."     奥斯本先生诧异道:"为什么不该问?"     "我住在爱米丽亚家里的时候,她们从来没有降低了身分跟我说过话,也没有邀我到府上去.反正我们这些穷教师向来受惯这样的怠慢,倒也不计较了."     奥斯本先生嚷道:"唷!亲爱的夏泼小姐!"     利蓓加接下去道:"有些人家真不讲礼貌,可是待人客气的也有.这里边的差别可大了.我们住在汉泊郡的虽然比不上你们城里做买卖的那么福气,那么有钱,到底是有根基的上等人家,家世也旧.毕脱爵士的爸爸本来可以加爵,是他自己不要,辞掉了的,这件事想来你也知道.他们怎么待我,你也看见了.我现在过的很舒服,我这位子不错.多谢你关心我."     这一下可把奥斯本气坏了.这家庭教师对他卖老,只顾揶揄他,逗得这头英国狮子不知怎么才好.他又没有机变,一时找不出借口可以拨转话头,所以想要不谈这些有趣的话儿也没有法子.     他傲慢地说道:"我一向还以为你挺喜欢城里做买卖的人家呢."     "那是去年的事了.我刚从讨厌的学堂里出来,还能不喜欢吗?哪个女孩儿不爱离开学校回家度假期呢?再说,那时候我又不懂事.奥斯本先生,你不知道这一年半里头我学了多少乖.我说这话你可别恼,我这一年半住在上等人家里,究竟不同些.爱米丽亚呢,倒真是一颗明珠,不管在哪儿都摆得出来.好啦,我这么一说,你可高兴了.唉!提起来,这些做买卖的人真古怪.还有乔斯先生呢,了不起的乔瑟夫先生现在怎么了?"     奥斯本先生很温和的说道:"去年你仿佛并不讨厌了不起的乔瑟夫先生啊!"     "你真利害!我跟你说句心里的话儿吧,去年我并没有为他伤心.如果当时他求我做那件事......你眼睛里说的那件事(你的眼神不但善于表情达意,而且和蔼可亲)......如果他求我呢,我也就答应了."     奥斯本先生对她瞅了一眼,好像说:"原来如此,那真难为你了!"     "你心里准在想,做了乔治.奥斯本的亲戚多体面哪!乔治.奥斯本是约翰.奥斯本的儿子,约翰.奥斯本又是......你的爷爷是谁,奥斯本先生?唷,你别生气呀!家世的好坏,反正不能怪你.你刚才说的不错,在一年以前我倒是很愿意嫁给乔斯.赛特笠.一个姑娘穷得一个子儿都没有,这还不是一头好亲事吗?如今我的秘密你都知道了.我这人是很直爽很诚恳的.我细细想来,你肯提起这些事,可见你很有好心,也很懂礼貌.爱米丽亚,亲爱的,奥斯本先生正在和我谈起你哥哥.可怜的乔瑟夫现在怎么了?"     这样一来,乔治便给她打得大败而退.利蓓加自己并没有抓住理,可是听了她这番话,便显得错处都在乔治.他满心羞惭,忙忙的溜掉了,只怕再呆下去,便会在爱米丽亚跟前扫了面子.     乔治不是卑鄙的小人,虽然吃了利蓓加的亏,究竟不致于背地里报复,说女人的坏话.不过第二天他碰见了克劳莱上尉,忍不住把自己对于利蓓加小姐的意见私底下说些给上尉听.他说她尖酸,阴险,见了男人没命的送情卖俏.克劳莱笑着一味附和他,当天就把他的话一句不漏的学给利蓓加听.利蓓加仗着女人特有的本能,断定上次坏她好事.破她婚姻的没有别人,一定是乔治,所以一向看重他,听了这话,对于他的交情更深了一层.     乔治做出很有含蓄的样子说道:"我不过警告你一声罢了.女人的脾气性格我都知道,劝你留神."那天他已经把克劳莱的马买了下来,饭后又输给他二十多镑钱.     克劳莱的脸色有些儿古怪,他表示对乔治感激,谢他说:"好小子,多谢你.我看得出来,你不是个糊涂人."乔治跟他分手之后,还在赞赏他这话说得有理.     他回去把自己干的事告诉爱米丽亚,说罗登.克劳莱性情爽直,是个了不起的好人,又说自己劝罗登小心提防利蓓加那诡计多端的滑头.     "爱米丽亚叫道:"提防谁?"     你那做家庭教师的朋友.这有什么可大惊小怪的."     爱米丽亚道:"嗳哟,乔治,你干的什么好事!"她有的是女人的尖眼睛,又受了爱情的熏陶,看事更加明彻,一眼就发现了一个秘密.这个秘密,克劳莱小姐和可怜的老闺女布立葛丝都看不出.那装模作样,留着大胡子的奥斯本中尉,年纪轻,又是个蠢材,更加看不出.     分手以前,利蓓加在楼上替爱米丽亚围上披肩,两个朋友才有机会谈谈机密,诉诉心腹,做这些女人最喜欢的事.爱丽米亚上前握着利蓓加的两只小手说道:"利蓓加,我都看出来了."     利蓓加吻了她一下,两个人都掩口不谈这件秘密喜事.殊不知这事不久就给闹穿了.     过了不久,大岗脱街上又多了一块丧家报丧的木板儿,那时利蓓加仍旧住在派克街她靠山的家里.大岗脱街一带向来满布着愁云惨雾,这种装饰品是常见的,倒也不足为奇.报丧板安在毕脱.克劳莱爵士的大门上,不过贤明的从男爵可并没有死.这一块报丧板是女人用的,还是好几年前毕脱爵士的老娘克劳莱太夫人办丧事用的旧东西.此后它就从大门上给取下来,堆在毕脱爵士府邸后面的空屋里.现在可怜的罗莎.道生去世,又把它拿出来用.原来毕脱爵士又断弦了.板上画着男女两家的纹章,女家的纹章当然不属于可怜的罗莎.她的娘家哪里有什么纹章呢.反正上面的小天使虽然是为毕脱爵士的母亲画的,为她也一般合用.纹章底下用拉丁文写着"我将复活",旁边是克劳莱家的蛇和鸽子.纹章和报丧板,还有格言,倒是说法讲道的好题目.     罗莎病中只有克劳莱先生去照拂她,此外一个亲人也看不见.她临死得到的安慰,也不过是克劳莱先生对她的劝勉和鼓舞.多少年来只有他还对于这个孤苦懦弱的人有些情谊,发些善心.罗莎的心早已先死了.她要做毕脱.克劳莱爵士的妻子,出卖了自己的心.在名利场里面,许多做母亲的和做女儿的,天天在进行这种交易.     罗莎去世的时候,她丈夫恰好在伦敦.他向来不停的策划这样,计算那样,那些时候正忙着和许多律师接头.虽说他的事情这么多,他却不时偷空跑到派克街去,并且常常写信给利蓓加,一会儿哀求,一会儿叮嘱,一会儿命令,要她回乡下去照料她的学生.他说自从她们的妈妈病倒之后,两个女孩子便没人看管了.克劳莱小姐哪里肯放利蓓加动身.她这人最是喜新厌旧,一旦对朋友生了厌倦之心,立刻无情无义的丢开手.在这一头上,就算伦敦的贵妇人中间也少有人比得上她.可是在着迷的当儿,她对于朋友的眷恋也是出人一等.眼前她仍旧死拉住利蓓加不放.     不消说,克劳莱小姐家里的人得到克劳莱夫人的死讯之后并没有什么表示,也不觉得伤感.克劳莱小姐只说:"看来三号只好不请客了."顿了一顿,她又道:"我兄弟但凡雇些体统,就该别再娶亲才对."罗登向来关心他哥哥,接口道:"如果爸爸再娶填房的话,毕脱准会气个半死."利蓓加一声不响,心事重重的仿佛全家最受感动的倒是她.那天罗登还没有告辞,她就起身走了.不过罗登临走之前他们两人恰巧在楼下碰见,又谈了一会儿.     第二天,克劳莱小姐正在静静的看法文小说,利蓓加望着窗外出神,忽然慌慌张张的嚷道:"毕脱爵士来了!"接着真的听见从男爵在外面打门.克劳莱小姐给她吓了一跳,嚷道:"亲爱的,我不能见他,我不要见他.跟鲍尔斯说我不见客.要不然你下去也行,跟他说我病着不能起来.这会儿我可受不了我这弟弟."说罢,她接着看小说.     利蓓加轻盈的走下楼,看见毕脱爵士正想上楼,便道:"她身上不爽快,不能见您."     毕脱爵士答道:"再好没有.蓓基小姐,我要看的是你.跟我到客厅里来."说着,他们一起走到客厅里去.     "小姐,我要你回到女王的克劳莱去."从男爵说了,定睛瞅着她,一面把黑手套和缠着黑带子的帽子脱下来.他眼睁睁的瞪着她,眼神那么古怪,利蓓加.夏泼差点儿发起抖来.     她低声说道:"我希望不久就能回去.等克劳莱小姐身子健朗些,我就......就想回去瞧瞧两个孩子."     毕脱爵士答道:"这三个月来你老说这话,到今天还守着我的姐姐.她呀,把你累倒以后就不要你了,当你破鞋似的扔在一边.告诉你吧,我才是真的要你.我马上回去办丧事,你去不去?说一声,去还是不去?"     蓓基仿佛非常激动,她说:"我不敢......我想,我跟你两人在一起不大......不大合适."     毕脱爵士拍着桌子说道:"我再说一遍,我要你.没有你我过不下去.到你离开以后我才明白过来.现在家里乱糟糟的跟从前一点儿也不像了.我所有的账目又都糊涂了.你非回来不可!真的回来吧.亲爱的蓓基,回来吧."     利蓓加喘着气答道:"拿什么身分回来呢?"     从男爵紧紧的抓住缠黑带的帽子,答道:"只要你愿意,就请你回来做克劳莱夫人.这样你总称心如意了吧?我要你做我的老婆.凭你这点聪明就配得上我.我可不管家世不家世,我瞧着你就是最上等的小姐.要赌聪明,区里那些从男爵的女人哪及你一零儿呢.你肯吗?只要你说一声就行."     利蓓加深深的感动,说道:"啊哟,毕脱爵士!"     毕脱爵士接下去说道:"蓓基,答应了吧!我虽然是个老头儿,身子还结实得很呢.我还有二十年好日子,准能叫你过得乐意,瞧着吧.你爱怎么就怎么,爱花多少就花多少,一切由你做主.我另外给你一注钱.我什么都按规矩,决不胡来.瞧我!"老头儿说着,双膝跪倒,乜斜着眼色眯眯的对蓓基笑.     利蓓加惊得往后倒退.故事说到此地,咱们还没有看见她有过慌张狼狈的样子,现在她却把持不定,掉下泪来.这恐怕是她一辈子最真心的几滴眼泪.     她说:"唉,毕脱爵士!我已经结过婚了."

CHAPTER XV In Which Rebecca's Husband Appears for a Short Time Every reader of a sentimental turn (and we desire no other) must have been pleased with the tableau with which the last act of our little drama concluded; for what can be prettier than an image of Love on his knees before Beauty? But when Love heard that awful confession from Beauty that she was married already, he bounced up from his attitude of humility on the carpet, uttering exclamations which caused poor little Beauty to be more frightened than she was when she made her avowal. "Married; you're joking," the Baronet cried, after the first explosion of rage and wonder. "You're making vun of me, Becky. Who'd ever go to marry you without a shilling to your vortune?" "Married! married!" Rebecca said, in an agony of tears--her voice choking with emotion, her handkerchief up to her ready eyes, fainting against the mantelpiece a figure of woe fit to melt the most obdurate heart. "O Sir Pitt, dear Sir Pitt, do not think me ungrateful for all your goodness to me. It is only your generosity that has extorted my secret." "Generosity be hanged!" Sir Pitt roared out. "Who is it tu, then, you're married? Where was it?" "Let me come back with you to the country, sir! Let me watch over you as faithfully as ever! Don't, don't separate me from dear Queen's Crawley!" "The feller has left you, has he?" the Baronet said, beginning, as he fancied, to comprehend. "Well, Becky--come back if you like. You can't eat your cake and have it. Any ways I made you a vair offer. Coom back as governess--you shall have it all your own way." She held out one hand. She cried fit to break her heart; her ringlets fell over her face, and over the marble mantelpiece where she laid it. "So the rascal ran off, eh?" Sir Pitt said, with a hideous attempt at consolation. "Never mind, Becky, I'LL take care of 'ee." "Oh, sir! it would be the pride of my life to go back to Queen's Crawley, and take care of the children, and of you as formerly, when you said you were pleased with the services of your little Rebecca. When I think of what you have just offered me, my heart fills with gratitude indeed it does. I can't be your wife, sir; let me--let me be your daughter." Saying which, Rebecca went down on HER knees in a most tragical way, and, taking Sir Pitt's horny black hand between her own two (which were very pretty and white, and as soft as satin), looked up in his face with an expression of exquisite pathos and confidence, when--when the door opened, and Miss Crawley sailed in. Mrs. Firkin and Miss Briggs, who happened by chance to be at the parlour door soon after the Baronet and Rebecca entered the apartment, had also seen accidentally, through the keyhole, the old gentleman prostrate before the governess, and had heard the generous proposal which he made her. It was scarcely out of his mouth when Mrs. Firkin and Miss Briggs had streamed up the stairs, had rushed into the drawing-room where Miss Crawley was reading the French novel, and had given that old lady the astounding intelligence that Sir Pitt was on his knees, proposing to Miss Sharp. And if you calculate the time for the above dialogue to take place--the time for Briggs and Firkin to fly to the drawing-room--the time for Miss Crawley to be astonished, and to drop her volume of Pigault le Brun --and the time for her to come downstairs--you will see how exactly accurate this history is, and how Miss Crawley must have appeared at the very instant when Rebecca had assumed the attitude of humility. "It is the lady on the ground, and not the gentleman," Miss Crawley said, with a look and voice of great scorn. "They told me that YOU were on your knees, Sir Pitt: do kneel once more, and let me see this pretty couple!" "I have thanked Sir Pitt Crawley, Ma'am," Rebecca said, rising, "and have told him that--that I never can become Lady Crawley." "Refused him!" Miss Crawley said, more bewildered than ever. Briggs and Firkin at the door opened the eyes of astonishment and the lips of wonder. "Yes--refused," Rebecca continued, with a sad, tearful voice. "And am I to credit my ears that you absolutely proposed to her, Sir Pitt?" the old lady asked. "Ees," said the Baronet, "I did." "And she refused you as she says?" "Ees," Sir Pitt said, his features on a broad grin. "It does not seem to break your heart at any rate," Miss Crawley remarked. "Nawt a bit," answered Sir Pitt, with a coolness and good-humour which set Miss Crawley almost mad with bewilderment. That an old gentleman of station should fall on his knees to a penniless governess, and burst out laughing because she refused to marry him-- that a penniless governess should refuse a Baronet with four thousand a year--these were mysteries which Miss Crawley could never comprehend. It surpassed any complications of intrigue in her favourite Pigault le Brun. "I'm glad you think it good sport, brother," she continued, groping wildly through this amazement. "Vamous," said Sir Pitt. "Who'd ha' thought it! what a sly little devil! what a little fox it waws!" he muttered to himself, chuckling with pleasure. "Who'd have thought what?" cries Miss Crawley, stamping with her foot. "Pray, Miss Sharp, are you waiting for the Prince Regent's divorce, that you don't think our family good enough for you?" "My attitude," Rebecca said, "when you came in, ma'am, did not look as if I despised such an honour as this good--this noble man has deigned to offer me. Do you think I have no heart? Have you all loved me, and been so kind to the poor orphan--deserted--girl, and am I to feel nothing? O my friends! O my benefactors! may not my love, my life, my duty, try to repay the confidence you have shown me? Do you grudge me even gratitude, Miss Crawley? It is too much- -my heart is too full"; and she sank down in a chair so pathetically, that most of the audience present were perfectly melted with her sadness. "Whether you marry me or not, you're a good little girl, Becky, and I'm your vriend, mind," said Sir Pitt, and putting on his crape- bound hat, he walked away--greatly to Rebecca's relief; for it was evident that her secret was unrevealed to Miss Crawley, and she had the advantage of a brief reprieve. Putting her handkerchief to her eyes, and nodding away honest Briggs, who would have followed her upstairs, she went up to her apartment; while Briggs and Miss Crawley, in a high state of excitement, remained to discuss the strange event, and Firkin, not less moved, dived down into the kitchen regions, and talked of it with all the male and female company there. And so impressed was Mrs. Firkin with the news, that she thought proper to write off by that very night's post, "with her humble duty to Mrs. Bute Crawley and the family at the Rectory, and Sir Pitt has been and proposed for to marry Miss Sharp, wherein she has refused him, to the wonder of all." The two ladies in the dining-room (where worthy Miss Briggs was delighted to be admitted once more to confidential conversation with her patroness) wondered to their hearts' content at Sir Pitt's offer, and Rebecca's refusal; Briggs very acutely suggesting that there must have been some obstacle in the shape of a previous attachment, otherwise no young woman in her senses would ever have refused so advantageous a proposal. "You would have accepted it yourself, wouldn't you, Briggs?" Miss Crawley said, kindly. "Would it not be a privilege to be Miss Crawley's sister?" Briggs replied, with meek evasion. "Well, Becky would have made a good Lady Crawley, after all," Miss Crawley remarked (who was mollified by the girl's refusal, and very liberal and generous now there was no call for her sacrifices). "She has brains in plenty (much more wit in her little finger than you have, my poor dear Briggs, in all your head). Her manners are excellent, now I have formed her. She is a Montmorency, Briggs, and blood is something, though I despise it for my part; and she would have held her own amongst those pompous stupid Hampshire people much better than that unfortunate ironmonger's daughter." Briggs coincided as usual, and the "previous attachment" was then discussed in conjectures. "You poor friendless creatures are always having some foolish tendre," Miss Crawley said. "You yourself, you know, were in love with a writing-master (don't cry, Briggs--you're always crying, and it won't bring him to life again), and I suppose this unfortunate Becky has been silly and sentimental too--some apothecary, or house-steward, or painter, or young curate, or something of that sort." "Poor thing! poor thing!" says Briggs (who was thinking of twenty- four years back, and that hectic young writing-master whose lock of yellow hair, and whose letters, beautiful in their illegibility, she cherished in her old desk upstairs). "Poor thing, poor thing!" says Briggs. Once more she was a fresh-cheeked lass of eighteen; she was at evening church, and the hectic writing-master and she were quavering out of the same psalm-book. "After such conduct on Rebecca's part," Miss Crawley said enthusiastically, "our family should do something. Find out who is the objet, Briggs. I'll set him up in a shop; or order my portrait of him, you know; or speak to my cousin, the Bishop and I'll doter Becky, and we'll have a wedding, Briggs, and you shall make the breakfast, and be a bridesmaid." Briggs declared that it would be delightful, and vowed that her dear Miss Crawley was always kind and generous, and went up to Rebecca's bedroom to console her and prattle about the offer, and the refusal, and the cause thereof; and to hint at the generous intentions of Miss Crawley, and to find out who was the gentleman that had the mastery of Miss Sharp's heart. Rebecca was very kind, very affectionate and affected--responded to Briggs's offer of tenderness with grateful fervour--owned there was a secret attachment--a delicious mystery--what a pity Miss Briggs had not remained half a minute longer at the keyhole! Rebecca might, perhaps, have told more: but five minutes after Miss Briggs's arrival in Rebecca's apartment, Miss Crawley actually made her appearance there--an unheard-of honour--her impatience had overcome her; she could not wait for the tardy operations of her ambassadress: so she came in person, and ordered Briggs out of the room. And expressing her approval of Rebecca's conduct, she asked particulars of the interview, and the previous transactions which had brought about the astonishing offer of Sir Pitt. Rebecca said she had long had some notion of the partiality with which Sir Pitt honoured her (for he was in the habit of making his feelings known in a very frank and unreserved manner) but, not to mention private reasons with which she would not for the present trouble Miss Crawley, Sir Pitt's age, station, and habits were such as to render a marriage quite impossible; and could a woman with any feeling of self-respect and any decency listen to proposals at such a moment, when the funeral of the lover's deceased wife had not actually taken place? "Nonsense, my dear, you would never have refused him had there not been some one else in the case," Miss Crawley said, coming to her point at once. "Tell me the private reasons; what are the private reasons? There is some one; who is it that has touched your heart?" Rebecca cast down her eyes, and owned there was. "You have guessed right, dear lady," she said, with a sweet simple faltering voice. "You wonder at one so poor and friendless having an attachment, don't you? I have never heard that poverty was any safeguard against it. I wish it were." "My poor dear child," cried Miss Crawley, who was always quite ready to be sentimental, "is our passion unrequited, then? Are we pining in secret? Tell me all, and let me console you." "I wish you could, dear Madam," Rebecca said in the same tearful tone. "Indeed, indeed, I need it." And she laid her head upon Miss Crawley's shoulder and wept there so naturally that the old lady, surprised into sympathy, embraced her with an almost maternal kindness, uttered many soothing protests of regard and affection for her, vowed that she loved her as a daughter, and would do everything in her power to serve her. "And now who is it, my dear? Is it that pretty Miss Sedley's brother? You said something about an affair with him. I'll ask him here, my dear. And you shall have him: indeed you shall." "Don't ask me now," Rebecca said. "You shall know all soon. Indeed you shall. Dear kind Miss Crawley--dear friend, may I say so?" "That you may, my child," the old lady replied, kissing her. "I can't tell you now," sobbed out Rebecca, "I am very miserable. But O! love me always--promise you will love me always." And in the midst of mutual tears--for the emotions of the younger woman had awakened the sympathies of the elder--this promise was solemnly given by Miss Crawley, who left her little protege, blessing and admiring her as a dear, artless, tender-hearted, affectionate, incomprehensible creature. And now she was left alone to think over the sudden and wonderful events of the day, and of what had been and what might have been. What think you were the private feelings of Miss, no (begging her pardon) of Mrs. Rebecca? If, a few pages back, the present writer claimed the privilege of peeping into Miss Amelia Sedley's bedroom, and understanding with the omniscience of the novelist all the gentle pains and passions which were tossing upon that innocent pillow, why should he not declare himself to be Rebecca's confidante too, master of her secrets, and seal-keeper of that young woman's conscience? Well, then, in the first place, Rebecca gave way to some very sincere and touching regrets that a piece of marvellous good fortune should have been so near her, and she actually obliged to decline it. In this natural emotion every properly regulated mind will certainly share. What good mother is there that would not commiserate a penniless spinster, who might have been my lady, and have shared four thousand a year? What well-bred young person is there in all Vanity Fair, who will not feel for a hard-working, ingenious, meritorious girl, who gets such an honourable, advantageous, provoking offer, just at the very moment when it is out of her power to accept it? I am sure our friend Becky's disappointment deserves and will command every sympathy. I remember one night being in the Fair myself, at an evening party. I observed old Miss Toady there also present, single out for her special attentions and flattery little Mrs. Briefless, the barrister's wife, who is of a good family certainly, but, as we all know, is as poor as poor can be. What, I asked in my own mind, can cause this obsequiousness on the part of Miss Toady; has Briefless got a county court, or has his wife had a fortune left her? Miss Toady explained presently, with that simplicity which distinguishes all her conduct. "You know," she said, "Mrs Briefless is granddaughter of Sir John Redhand, who is so ill at Cheltenham that he can't last six months. Mrs. Briefless's papa succeeds; so you see she will be a baronet's daughter." And Toady asked Briefless and his wife to dinner the very next week. If the mere chance of becoming a baronet's daughter can procure a lady such homage in the world, surely, surely we may respect the agonies of a young woman who has lost the opportunity of becoming a baronet's wife. Who would have dreamed of Lady Crawley dying so soon? She was one of those sickly women that might have lasted these ten years--Rebecca thought to herself, in all the woes of repentance--and I might have been my lady! I might have led that old man whither I would. I might have thanked Mrs. Bute for her patronage, and Mr. Pitt for his insufferable condescension. I would have had the town-house newly furnished and decorated. I would have had the handsomest carriage in London, and a box at the opera; and I would have been presented next season. All this might have been; and now--now all was doubt and mystery. But Rebecca was a young lady of too much resolution and energy of character to permit herself much useless and unseemly sorrow for the irrevocable past; so, having devoted only the proper portion of regret to it, she wisely turned her whole attention towards the future, which was now vastly more important to her. And she surveyed her position, and its hopes, doubts, and chances. In the first place, she was MARRIED--that was a great fact. Sir Pitt knew it. She was not so much surprised into the avowal, as induced to make it by a sudden calculation. It must have come some day: and why not now as at a later period? He who would have married her himself must at least be silent with regard to her marriage. How Miss Crawley would bear the news--was the great question. Misgivings Rebecca had; but she remembered all Miss Crawley had said; the old lady's avowed contempt for birth; her daring liberal opinions; her general romantic propensities; her almost doting attachment to her nephew, and her repeatedly expressed fondness for Rebecca herself. She is so fond of him, Rebecca thought, that she will forgive him anything: she is so used to me that I don't think she could be comfortable without me: when the eclaircissement comes there will be a scene, and hysterics, and a great quarrel, and then a great reconciliation. At all events, what use was there in delaying? the die was thrown, and now or to-morrow the issue must be the same. And so, resolved that Miss Crawley should have the news, the young person debated in her mind as to the best means of conveying it to her; and whether she should face the storm that must come, or fly and avoid it until its first fury was blown over. In this state of meditation she wrote the following letter: Dearest Friend, The great crisis which we have debated about so often is COME. Half of my secret is known, and I have thought and thought, until I am quite sure that now is the time to reveal THE WHOLE OF THE MYSTERY. Sir Pitt came to me this morning, and made--what do you think?--A DECLARATION IN FORM. Think of that! Poor little me. I might have been Lady Crawley. How pleased Mrs. Bute would have been: and ma tante if I had taken precedence of her! I might have been somebody's mamma, instead of--O, I tremble, I tremble, when I think how soon we must tell all! Sir Pitt knows I am married, and not knowing to whom, is not very much displeased as yet. Ma tante is ACTUALLY ANGRY that I should have refused him. But she is all kindness and graciousness. She condescends to say I would have made him a good wife; and vows that she will be a mother to your little Rebecca. She will be shaken when she first hears the news. But need we fear anything beyond a momentary anger? I think not: I AM SURE not. She dotes upon you so (you naughty, good-for-nothing man), that she would pardon you ANYTHING: and, indeed, I believe, the next place in her heart is mine: and that she would be miserable without me. Dearest! something TELLS ME we shall conquer. You shall leave that odious regiment: quit gaming, racing, and BE A GOOD BOY; and we shall all live in Park Lane, and ma tante shall leave us all her money. I shall try and walk to-morrow at 3 in the usual place. If Miss B. accompanies me, you must come to dinner, and bring an answer, and put it in the third volume of Porteus's Sermons. But, at all events, come to your own R. To Miss Eliza Styles, At Mr. Barnet's, Saddler, Knightsbridge. And I trust there is no reader of this little story who has not discernment enough to perceive that the Miss Eliza Styles (an old schoolfellow, Rebecca said, with whom she had resumed an active correspondence of late, and who used to fetch these letters from the saddler's), wore brass spurs, and large curling mustachios, and was indeed no other than Captain Rawdon Crawley. 第十五章    利蓓加的丈夫露了一露脸     多情多义的读者(无情无义的我们也不要),看到刚才一出小戏里最后的一幕,一定赏识.痴情公子向美貌佳人跪下求婚,还不是一幅最赏心悦目的画儿吗?     痴情公子本来虚心小胆儿的匍匐在地毯上,美貌佳人向他吐露心事,说她已经另有丈夫,痴情公子一听这可怕的招供,霍的跳起身来,嘴里大声叫嚷,吓得那战战兢兢的美人儿愈加害怕.从男爵第一阵怒气和诧异过去之后,便对她嚷道:"结过婚了!你在说笑话吧?你在拿我取笑儿吧,蓓基?你一个子儿都没有,谁肯娶你?"     利蓓加泪如泉涌,哽咽着说不出话来.她把手帕掩住泪眼,有气无力的靠在壁炉架上.心肠最硬的人看了那悲戚的样子,也会软化.她说:"结过婚了,已经结过婚了.唉,毕脱爵士,亲爱的毕脱爵士,别以为我没有良心,分不出好歹.因为您那么恩深义重,我才把心里的秘密告诉您."     毕脱爵士嚷道:"恩深义重!呸!你跟谁结婚的?在哪儿结婚的?"     "让我跟着您回乡下去吧!让我像从前一样忠心耿耿的守着您吧!别把我从女王的克劳莱赶出来."     从男爵以为自己已经摸着她的底细,便道:"那家伙想必把你扔了,是不是?好的,蓓基,你要回来就回来吧.事难两全,反正我对待你总算公平合理的了.你回来当教师也行,随你的便."她伸出手来,把脸靠着大理石的壁炉架子哭得心碎肠断,头发披了一头一脸,挂下来散落在壁炉架上.     毕脱爵士要想安慰她,一副嘴脸越发可厌.他说:"那混蛋逃走了吗?不要紧的,蓓基,我会照顾你."     "只要让我回到女王的克劳莱,像从前一样的服侍您和两个孩子,我就心满意足了.您从前不是说过您的利蓓加做事不错吗?我想起您刚才对我的一番好意,我满心里只有感激,我这话是千真万真的.我不能做您的老婆,可是让我......让我做你的女儿吧!"     利蓓加一面说,一面演悲剧似的双膝跪下,把自己一双软缎一般白嫩柔滑的小手拉住毕脱爵士粗硬的黑手,一脸悲痛和信托的神情望着他.正当这个时候,门开了,克劳莱小姐昂头挺胸的走进来.     从男爵和利蓓加走进客厅不久,孚金和布立葛丝小姐恰巧走近客厅门口,无意之中在钥匙洞里张见老头儿伏在蓓基的脚旁,听见他屈尊降格的要求娶她为妻.他这话刚刚出口,孚金和布立葛丝小姐便飞也似的跑上楼冲到克劳莱小姐的起坐间里(老太太正在看法文小说),把这出奇的消息报告给她听,就是毕脱爵士跪在地上,正在向夏泼小姐求婚.你如果计算一下,利蓓加他们说话要多少时候,布立葛丝和孚金飞奔上楼要多少时候,克劳莱小姐大吃一惊,把比高.勒勃伦(比高.勒勃伦(Ｐｉｇａｕｌｔ　Ｌｅｂｒｕｎ,１７５３—１８３５),法国戏曲家.小说家.)的书掉在地上要多少时候,她们三人一起下楼又要多少时候,你就知道我的故事说的多么准确,克劳莱小姐不早不晚,只能在利蓓加跪在地上的时候走进来.     克劳莱小姐的声音和脸色都显出十分的轻蔑,说道:"原来跪在地上的是小姐,不是先生.毕脱爵士,她们说你下跪了.请你再跪一次,让我瞧瞧这漂亮的一对儿!"     利蓓加站起来答道:"我刚在向毕脱爵士道谢,我说我......我无论如何不能做克劳莱的夫人."     克劳莱小姐越来越不明白,说道:"你回绝了他吗!"布立葛丝和孚金站在门口,诧异得睁大了眼睛,张开了嘴.     利蓓加哭声答道:"对了,我回绝他了."     老太太道:"我简直不能相信我的耳朵了,毕脱爵士,你难道真的向她求婚了不成?"     从男爵答道:"不错,我求过了."     "她真的不嫁给你吗?"     毕脱爵士嬉皮笑脸的答道:"对啊!"     克劳莱小姐道:"不管怎么着,看来你倒并不伤心."     毕脱爵士答道:"一点儿不伤心."克劳莱小姐看着他满不在乎.轻松愉快的样子,奇怪得几乎神志不清.有地位有身分的老头儿怎么会肯向一个子儿也没有的家庭教师下跪,遭她拒绝以后怎么又嘻嘻哈哈的大笑,一文不名的穷教师怎么会不愿意嫁给一年有四千镑收入的从男爵,这里面的玄妙,克劳莱小姐实在参不透.她最爱比高.勒勃伦,可是连他的书里也没有这样曲折迷离的情节.     她摸不着头脑,胡乱说一句道:"弟弟,你觉得这件事有趣,倒是好的."     毕脱爵士答道:"了不起!这事谁想得到!真是个会捣鬼的小滑头!真是个狐狸精!"他一面自言自语,一面吃吃的笑得高兴.     克劳莱小姐跺着脚道:"谁想得到什么?夏泼小姐,我们家难道还够不上你的标准?你还等着摄政王离了婚娶你不成?"     利蓓加答道:"刚才您进这屋里来的时候,已经看见我的态度姿势.从这一点上就能知道我没有小看了这位好心的.高贵的先生赏给我的面子.难道您以为我没有心肝吗?我是个没爹娘的.没人理的女孩子,你们大家待我这么好,难道我连个好歹都不知道吗?唉,我的朋友!我的恩人!你们对我这么推心置腹,我这一辈子服侍你们,爱你们,把命拼了,也要补报的.克劳莱小姐,别以为我连良心都没有.我心里太感动了,我难受!"她怪可怜的倒在椅子上,在场的人倒有大半看着不忍.     "不管你嫁不嫁我,你总是个好女孩儿,蓓基.你记住,我的心是向着你的."毕脱爵士说完这话,戴上缠黑带的帽子走了.利蓓加见他一走,登时大大的放心,因为她的秘密没有给克劳莱小姐拆穿,情势又缓了一缓.     她把手帕蒙了脸上楼.老实的布立葛丝原想跟上去,利蓓加对她点点头,请她自便,然后回房去了.克劳莱小姐和布立葛丝激动得不得了,坐下来议论这桩奇事.孚金也是一样的兴奋,三脚两步跑下楼梯,把消息报告给厨房里的男女伙伴听去.这事使她深深的感动,所以她当晚就寄了一封信,给"别德.克劳莱太太和阖府大小请安".信上说"毕脱爵士来过了,求着夏泼小姐嫁给他.可是她不肯,真是大家想不到的."     在饭间里,两位小姐尽情的把毕脱爵士求婚和利蓓加拒婚这件事谈了又谈,说了又说.布立葛丝又承她东家跟她谈些机密话儿,得意的了不得.她很聪明的猜测利蓓加准是先有了别的意中人,不能答应,要不然的话,凡是有些脑子的女孩儿总不肯错过这么一门好亲事.     克劳莱小姐很温和的说道:"布立葛丝,如果你做了她,一定早应了,是不是?"     布立葛丝避免正面回答,低首下心的说道:"能做克劳莱小姐的弟媳妇难道不是好福气吗?"     克劳莱小姐说:"要说呢,让蓓基做克劳莱夫人倒是挺合适的,"她因为蓓基拒绝了从男爵,心上很安慰.她本人反正没有受到损害,落得口头上宽厚大方,"她这人是有脑子的.我可怜的好布立葛丝,要讲聪明,你还没有她一零儿呢.如今我把她一调理,她的举止行动也大方极了.她究竟是蒙脱莫伦西家里的人,布立葛丝.家世的好坏的确有些关系,虽然我是向来看不起这些的.在汉泊郡那些又寒蠢又爱摆虚架子的乡下人里面,她倒是撑得起场面的,比那铁匠的女儿强得多了."     布立葛丝照例顺着她的口气说话.两个人又捉摸她的"心坎儿上的人"究竟是谁.克劳莱小姐说道:"你们这些孤苦伶仃的人都有些痴心.你自己从前也爱过一个教写字的先生(别哭了,布立葛丝,你老是哭哭啼啼,眼泪是不能起死回生的).我猜可怜的蓓基一定也是个痴情人儿,爱上了什么配药的呀,人家的总管呀,画家呀,年轻的副牧师呀,这类的人."     布立葛丝回想到二十四年前的旧事.那个害痨病的年轻写字先生曾经送给她一绺黄头发,写给她好些信;字迹虽然潦草得认不清,书法是好的.这些念心儿她都当宝贝似的藏在楼上一只旧书桌子里面.她口里说:"可怜,可怜!可怜,可怜!"仿佛自己又成了脸色鲜嫩的十八岁大姑娘,在教堂里参加晚祷,跟那害痨病的写字先生合看着圣诗本子抖着声音唱歌.     克劳莱小姐怪热心的说道:"利蓓加既然这样知好歹,我们家应该照应她一下才是.布立葛丝,去打听打听她心坎儿上的人是谁.让我来帮他开个铺子,或是雇他给我画像,或是替他在我那做主教的表弟那儿说个情.我还想陪些嫁妆给蓓基.布立葛丝,咱们来办个喜事吧.结婚那天的早饭由你去筹备,还叫你做女傧相."     布立葛丝连忙答应说再好也没有了,又奉承克劳莱小姐做人慷慨慈厚.她走到楼上利蓓加的卧房里去安慰她,谈谈毕脱爵士怎么求婚,利蓓加怎么拒绝,为什么拒绝等等.她露出口气,说克劳莱小姐预备对她慷慨帮忙,又想探利蓓加的口气,看她心坎儿上的人究竟是谁.     利蓓加对布立葛丝非常和蔼亲热,布立葛丝的一番好意,使她很感动,便也热呵呵的拿出真心相待,承认自己心上还有一个别的人.这秘密真有趣,可惜布立葛丝没有在钥匙洞口多站半分钟,没准利蓓加还会多透露些消息呢.布立葛丝在利蓓加屋里才坐了五分钟,克劳莱小姐亲自来了.这可是从来没有的面子.原来她着急得忍耐不住,嫌她使来的专差办事太慢,便亲自出马,把布立葛丝赶出去.她称赞利蓓加识得大体,打听她和毕脱爵士见面时仔细的经过,又要探问在这次出人意料的求婚以前还有什么别的纠缠.     利蓓加说,承毕脱爵士看得起,对她另眼看待,她自己早已心里有数,因为毕脱爵士心直口快,心里有什么都不遮掩的.她拒绝嫁他的原因,眼前还不敢说出来麻烦克劳莱小姐;除了这个不算,毕脱爵士的年龄.地位.习惯,也和她的相差太远,结了婚不会有好结果.再说,男人的前妻尸骨还停放在家里,凡是有些自尊心.顾些体统的女人怎么有心肠来听他求婚呢.     克劳莱小姐单刀直入的说道:"胡说,亲爱的,你要不是另外有人,再也不会拒绝他.你的秘密原因是什么?说出来我也听听.你准是另外有人.你看中了谁呀?"     利蓓加垂下眼睛,承认心上另外有人.她那自然悦耳的声音吞吞吐吐的说道:"您猜对了,亲爱的克劳莱小姐.您准觉得奇怪,像我这样孤苦伶仃的可怜虫怎么也会爱上了人,是不是?贫穷可不能保障我们不动心哪!要是能够保障倒好了."     克劳莱小姐向来喜欢做些多情多义的张致,忙说:"我可怜的宝贝孩子,原来你是在闹单恋啊?你偷偷的害相思病是不是啊?把什么都告诉我吧,让我来安慰你."     利蓓加仍旧呜呜咽咽的说道:"亲爱的克劳莱小姐,但愿你能安慰我!我真需要安慰."她把头枕着克劳莱小姐的肩膀哭起来,哭得那么自然,老太太不由自主的动了恻隐之心.她几乎像慈母一般抱住利蓓加,好言好语抚慰她,说自己多么喜欢她,看重她,并且发誓把她当作女儿一样看承,日后尽力帮助她."亲爱的,现在说给我听究竟是什么人.是不是那漂亮的赛特笠小姐的哥哥?你说过跟他有一段纠葛的.亲爱的,等我把他请来,叫他娶你.一定叫他娶你."     利蓓加答道:"现在请您别再问我了.不久以后您就会知道的.我决不骗你.亲爱的,慈悲的克劳莱小姐......亲爱的朋友!您准我这么叫您吗?"     老太太吻她一下,说道:"我的孩子,当然准的."     利蓓加抽抽噎噎的说道:"现在我不能告诉您.我心里难受死了.唉,求您疼顾疼顾我......答应我,以后一直疼我吧!"小的那么悲伤,连带着叫老的也动了情,两个人一块儿淌眼泪.克劳莱小姐郑重其事的答应一辈子疼爱利蓓加,然后才走了.她为这个受她提拔的女孩子祝福,并且十分赞赏她,觉得这亲爱的小人儿软心肠,实心眼,待人热和,可是叫人摸不着头脑.     房里剩下利蓓加一个人.她咀嚼着当天意外的奇遇,也想到已成的事实和失去的机会.利蓓加小姐......对不起,我该说利蓓加太太......的心境,你猜得出来吗?在前几页上,写书的仗着他的特权,曾经偷看爱米丽亚.赛特笠小姐闺房里的情形,而且显出小说家无所不知的神通,体味了那温柔纯洁的小姑娘在床上转辗反侧的时候,心上有多少的痴情和痛苦.既然这样,他现在为什么不做利蓓加的心腹,不去刺探她的秘密,掌管开启她良心的钥匙呢?     好的,就这样吧.利蓓加第一先惋惜这么出奇的好运气就在眼前而干瞧着不能到手,真是打心里悔恨出来,叫旁人看着也觉得不忍.她的懊丧是极其自然的情绪,凡是明白事理的人想必都有同感.一个穷得一文不名的姑娘,眼看着可以做到爵士夫人,分享一年四千镑的收入,竟生生的错过了机会,所有的好母亲怎么能不可怜她呢?凡是名利场里面有教养的年轻人,看见这么一个勤谨聪明.品性优美的女孩子,面前明摆着一头体面的好亲事,偏偏迟了一步,不能应承下来,岂不觉得这事叫人焦躁,也会同情她的不幸呢?咱们的朋友蓓基碰到这般不如意的事,大家应该怜悯她,也一定会代她惋惜.     记得有一回名利场里有人请我吃晚饭,我看见托迪老小姐也在那里,一味对那矮小的白丽夫蕾斯太太奉承讨好.白丽夫蕾斯太太的丈夫是个律师,她虽然出身很好,却穷得不能再穷,这是大家都知道的.     我心下暗想道,托迪小姐为什么肯拍马屁呢?莫非白丽夫蕾斯在本区法院里有了差使了吗?还是他太太承继了什么遗产呢?托迪小姐向来为人爽快,不久就解释给我听:"你知道的,白丽夫蕾斯太太是约翰.雷德汉爵士的孙女儿.约翰爵士在契尔顿纳姆病得很重,顶多再能活半年.他死了以后,白丽夫蕾斯太太的爸爸承继爵位.这么一来,她就是从男爵的女儿了."下一个星期,托迪就请白丽夫蕾斯夫妇吃饭.     如果单是有机会做从男爵的女儿就能在社会上得到这样的尊敬,那么失掉从男爵夫人的地位多么令人伤心呢!这么一想,咱们自然能够了解那位小姐的懊恼了.利蓓加自怨自艾想道:"谁想克劳莱夫人死得这么快!像她这么病病歪歪的女人,拖十年也不希奇.我差一点儿就是爵士夫人了.我要怎么样,老头儿还会不依吗?别德太太那么照顾我,毕脱先生那么提拨我(真叫人受不了!),我也就有机会报答了,哼!我还可以把城里的房子装修布置起来,再买一辆全伦敦最漂亮的马车,在歌剧院定一个包厢,明年还能进宫朝见.这福气只差一点儿就到手,如今呢,只落得心里疑疑惑惑,不知道将来是个什么样子."     幸而利蓓加意志坚决,性格刚强,觉得既往不可追,白白的烦恼一会子也没有用,叫别人看着反而不雅,因此恨恨了一阵便算了.她很聪明的用全副精神来盘算将来的事,因为未来总比过去要紧得多.她估计自己的处境,有多少希望,多少机会,多少疑难.     她确实已经结了婚,这是第一件大事.这事已经给毕脱爵士知道了.她并不是当时慌了手脚口一滑说出来的,而是就地忖度了一下,想着哑谜总要拆穿,将来不如现在,还是此刻说了吧.毕脱爵士自己想娶她,难道还不替她保守结婚的秘密吗?克劳莱小姐对这事怎么看法,倒是大问题.利蓓加免不了怀着鬼胎,可是想想克劳莱小姐平时的言论最是激烈通达.她瞧不起家世,性格很有些浪漫,对于侄儿可说到了溺爱不明的地步,而且常常说她怎么喜欢利蓓加.利蓓加想道:"她那么喜欢罗登,不管罗登怎么荒唐她都肯原谅的.我伺候她这么些日子了,没了我她准觉得过不惯.事情闹穿的时候,总有一场大吵,哭呀,笑呀,骂呀,然后大家又和好如初.不管怎么样,这事情已经是无可翻悔的了,再隐瞒下去也没有什么好处,今天说穿和明天说穿还不是一样?"她决定把消息通知克劳莱小姐,心下先盘算应该用什么方法告诉她,还是当面锣对面鼓的拼过这一场去,还是躲在一边,等过了风头再出面.她前思后想,写了下面的一封信:     最亲爱的朋友......咱们两人常常讨论的紧要关头已经来了.秘密已经泄漏了一半.我想了又想,还是趁现在把一切和盘托出为妙.毕脱爵士今天早上来看我.你猜为什么?他正式向我求婚了!你想想看,我这小可怜儿差点儿做了克劳莱夫人呢!如果我真做了爵士夫人,别德太太该多高兴呢!还有姑妈,如果我的位子比她高,她该多乐!只差一点儿,我就做了某人的妈妈,而不做他的......唉!我一想起咱们非得马上把秘密告诉大家,就忍不住发抖.     毕脱爵士虽然知道我已经结婚,可是并不知道我丈夫是谁,所以还不怎么冒火.姑妈因为我拒绝了他,还生气呢.她对我十二分的慈爱宽容,竟说我要是嫁了毕脱爵士,倒能做个很好的妻子.她恳恳切切的说要把小利蓓加当作女儿一样待.我想她刚一听见咱们的消息免不了大吃一惊,不过等她气过一阵之后就不用怕了.我觉得这件事是拿得稳的.你这淘气不学好的东西!你简直是她的心肝宝贝,随你做什么,她总不会见怪的.我想她心里面除了你之外,第二个就是我.没了我,她就没法过日子了.最亲爱的,我相信咱们一定胜利.将来你离开了讨厌的军队,别再赌钱跑马,做个乖孩子.咱们就住在派克街等着承受姑妈全部的财产.     明天三点钟我想法子到老地方跟你见面.如果布小姐和我一同出来的话,你就来吃晚饭,通个信给我,把它夹在朴帝乌斯(朴帝乌斯(Ｂｅｉｌｂｙ　Ｐｏｒｔｅｕｓ,１７３１—１８０８),伦敦主教.)训戒第三册里面.不管怎么,到我身边来吧!     利          这封信是捎给武士桥的马鞍匠巴内先生转交伊兰莎.斯大哀尔斯小姐的.利蓓加说伊兰莎.斯大哀尔斯是她小时候的同学.新近她们两个人通信通得很勤,那位姑娘常到马鞍匠家里去拿信.我相信所有的读者心里都明白,知道这伊兰莎小姐准是留着菱角大胡子,靴上套着铜马刺.总而言之,不是别人,就是罗登.克劳莱上尉.

CHAPTER XVI The Letter on the Pincushion How they were married is not of the slightest consequence to anybody. What is to hinder a Captain who is a major, and a young lady who is of age, from purchasing a licence, and uniting themselves at any church in this town? Who needs to be told, that if a woman has a will she will assuredly find a way?--My belief is that one day, when Miss Sharp had gone to pass the forenoon with her dear friend Miss Amelia Sedley in Russell Square, a lady very like her might have been seen entering a church in the City, in company with a gentleman with dyed mustachios, who, after a quarter of an hour's interval, escorted her back to the hackney-coach in waiting, and that this was a quiet bridal party. And who on earth, after the daily experience we have, can question the probability of a gentleman marrying anybody? How many of the wise and learned have married their cooks? Did not Lord Eldon himself, the most prudent of men, make a runaway match? Were not Achilles and Ajax both in love with their servant maids? And are we to expect a heavy dragoon with strong desires and small brains, who had never controlled a passion in his life, to become prudent all of a sudden, and to refuse to pay any price for an indulgence to which he had a mind? If people only made prudent marriages, what a stop to population there would be! It seems to me, for my part, that Mr. Rawdon's marriage was one of the honestest actions which we shall have to record in any portion of that gentleman's biography which has to do with the present history. No one will say it is unmanly to be captivated by a woman, or, being captivated, to marry her; and the admiration, the delight, the passion, the wonder, the unbounded confidence, and frantic adoration with which, by degrees, this big warrior got to regard the little Rebecca, were feelings which the ladies at least will pronounce were not altogether discreditable to him. When she sang, every note thrilled in his dull soul, and tingled through his huge frame. When she spoke, he brought all the force of his brains to listen and wonder. If she was jocular, he used to revolve her jokes in his mind, and explode over them half an hour afterwards in the street, to the surprise of the groom in the tilbury by his side, or the comrade riding with him in Rotten Row. Her words were oracles to him, her smallest actions marked by an infallible grace and wisdom. "How she sings,--how she paints," thought he. "How she rode that kicking mare at Queen's Crawley!" And he would say to her in confidential moments, "By Jove, Beck, you're fit to be Commander-in- Chief, or Archbishop of Canterbury, by Jove." Is his case a rare one? and don't we see every day in the world many an honest Hercules at the apron-strings of Omphale, and great whiskered Samsons prostrate in Delilah's lap? When, then, Becky told him that the great crisis was near, and the time for action had arrived, Rawdon expressed himself as ready to act under her orders, as he would be to charge with his troop at the command of his colonel. There was no need for him to put his letter into the third volume of Porteus. Rebecca easily found a means to get rid of Briggs, her companion, and met her faithful friend in "the usual place" on the next day. She had thought over matters at night, and communicated to Rawdon the result of her determinations. He agreed, of course, to everything; was quite sure that it was all right: that what she proposed was best; that Miss Crawley would infallibly relent, or "come round," as he said, after a time. Had Rebecca's resolutions been entirely different, he would have followed them as implicitly. "You have head enough for both of us, Beck," said he. "You're sure to get us out of the scrape. I never saw your equal, and I've met with some clippers in my time too." And with this simple confession of faith, the love-stricken dragoon left her to execute his part of the project which she had formed for the pair. It consisted simply in the hiring of quiet lodgings at Brompton, or in the neighbourhood of the barracks, for Captain and Mrs. Crawley. For Rebecca had determined, and very prudently, we think, to fly. Rawdon was only too happy at her resolve; he had been entreating her to take this measure any time for weeks past. He pranced off to engage the lodgings with all the impetuosity of love. He agreed to pay two guineas a week so readily, that the landlady regretted she had asked him so little. He ordered in a piano, and half a nursery- house full of flowers: and a heap of good things. As for shawls, kid gloves, silk stockings, gold French watches, bracelets and perfumery, he sent them in with the profusion of blind love and unbounded credit. And having relieved his mind by this outpouring of generosity, he went and dined nervously at the club, waiting until the great moment of his life should come. The occurrences of the previous day; the admirable conduct of Rebecca in refusing an offer so advantageous to her, the secret unhappiness preying upon her, the sweetness and silence with which she bore her affliction, made Miss Crawley much more tender than usual. An event of this nature, a marriage, or a refusal, or a proposal, thrills through a whole household of women, and sets all their hysterical sympathies at work. As an observer of human nature, I regularly frequent St. George's, Hanover Square, during the genteel marriage season; and though I have never seen the bridegroom's male friends give way to tears, or the beadles and officiating clergy any way affected, yet it is not at all uncommon to see women who are not in the least concerned in the operations going on--old ladies who are long past marrying, stout middle-aged females with plenty of sons and daughters, let alone pretty young creatures in pink bonnets, who are on their promotion, and may naturally take an interest in the ceremony--I say it is quite common to see the women present piping, sobbing, sniffling; hiding their little faces in their little useless pocket-handkerchiefs; and heaving, old and young, with emotion. When my friend, the fashionable John Pimlico, married the lovely Lady Belgravia Green Parker, the excitement was so general that even the little snuffy old pew-opener who let me into the seat was in tears. And wherefore? I inquired of my own soul: she was not going to be married. Miss Crawley and Briggs in a word, after the affair of Sir Pitt, indulged in the utmost luxury of sentiment, and Rebecca became an object of the most tender interest to them. In her absence Miss Crawley solaced herself with the most sentimental of the novels in her library. Little Sharp, with her secret griefs, was the heroine of the day. That night Rebecca sang more sweetly and talked more pleasantly than she had ever been heard to do in Park Lane. She twined herself round the heart of Miss Crawley. She spoke lightly and laughingly of Sir Pitt's proposal, ridiculed it as the foolish fancy of an old man; and her eyes filled with tears, and Briggs's heart with unutterable pangs of defeat, as she said she desired no other lot than to remain for ever with her dear benefactress. "My dear little creature," the old lady said, "I don't intend to let you stir for years, that you may depend upon it. As for going back to that odious brother of mine after what has passed, it is out of the question. Here you stay with me and Briggs. Briggs wants to go to see her relations very often. Briggs, you may go when you like. But as for you, my dear, you must stay and take care of the old woman." If Rawdon Crawley had been then and there present, instead of being at the club nervously drinking claret, the pair might have gone down on their knees before the old spinster, avowed all, and been forgiven in a twinkling. But that good chance was denied to the young couple, doubtless in order that this story might be written, in which numbers of their wonderful adventures are narrated-- adventures which could never have occurred to them if they had been housed and sheltered under the comfortable uninteresting forgiveness of Miss Crawley. Under Mrs. Firkin's orders, in the Park Lane establishment, was a young woman from Hampshire, whose business it was, among other duties, to knock at Miss Sharp's door with that jug of hot water which Firkin would rather have perished than have presented to the intruder. This girl, bred on the family estate, had a brother in Captain Crawley's troop, and if the truth were known, I daresay it would come out that she was aware of certain arrangements, which have a great deal to do with this history. At any rate she purchased a yellow shawl, a pair of green boots, and a light blue hat with a red feather with three guineas which Rebecca gave her, and as little Sharp was by no means too liberal with her money, no doubt it was for services rendered that Betty Martin was so bribed. On the second day after Sir Pitt Crawley's offer to Miss Sharp, the sun rose as usual, and at the usual hour Betty Martin, the upstairs maid, knocked at the door of the governess's bedchamber. No answer was returned, and she knocked again. Silence was still uninterrupted; and Betty, with the hot water, opened the door and entered the chamber. The little white dimity bed was as smooth and trim as on the day previous, when Betty's own hands had helped to make it. Two little trunks were corded in one end of the room; and on the table before the window--on the pincushion the great fat pincushion lined with pink inside, and twilled like a lady's nightcap--lay a letter. It had been reposing there probably all night. Betty advanced towards it on tiptoe, as if she were afraid to awake it--looked at it, and round the room, with an air of great wonder and satisfaction; took up the letter, and grinned intensely as she turned it round and over, and finally carried it into Miss Briggs's room below. How could Betty tell that the letter was for Miss Briggs, I should like to know? All the schooling Betty had had was at Mrs. Bute Crawley's Sunday school, and she could no more read writing than Hebrew. "La, Miss Briggs," the girl exclaimed, "O, Miss, something must have happened--there's nobody in Miss Sharp's room; the bed ain't been slep in, and she've run away, and left this letter for you, Miss." "WHAT!" cries Briggs, dropping her comb, the thin wisp of faded hair falling over her shoulders; "an elopement! Miss Sharp a fugitive! What, what is this?" and she eagerly broke the neat seal, and, as they say, "devoured the contents" of the letter addressed to her. Dear Miss Briggs (the refugee wrote), the kindest heart in the world, as yours is, will pity and sympathise with me and excuse me. With tears, and prayers, and blessings, I leave the home where the poor orphan has ever met with kindness and affection. Claims even superior to those of my benefactress call me hence. I go to my duty--to my HUSBAND. Yes, I am married. My husband COMMANDS me to seek the HUMBLE HOME which we call ours. Dearest Miss Briggs, break the news as your delicate sympathy will know how to do it--to my dear, my beloved friend and benefactress. Tell her, ere I went, I shed tears on her dear pillow--that pillow that I have so often soothed in sickness--that I long AGAIN to watch--Oh, with what joy shall I return to dear Park Lane! How I tremble for the answer which is to SEAL MY FATE! When Sir Pitt deigned to offer me his hand, an honour of which my beloved Miss Crawley said I was DESERVING (my blessings go with her for judging the poor orphan worthy to be HER SISTER!) I told Sir Pitt that I was already A WIFE. Even he forgave me. But my courage failed me, when I should have told him all--that I could not be his wife, for I WAS HIS DAUGHTER! I am wedded to the best and most generous of men--Miss Crawley's Rawdon is MY Rawdon. At his COMMAND I open my lips, and follow him to our humble home, as I would THROUGH THE WORLD. O, my excellent and kind friend, intercede with my Rawdon's beloved aunt for him and the poor girl to whom all HIS NOBLE RACE have shown such UNPARALLELED AFFECTION. Ask Miss Crawley to receive HER CHILDREN. I can say no more, but blessings, blessings on all in the dear house I leave, prays Your affectionate and GRATEFUL Rebecca Crawley. Midnight. Just as Briggs had finished reading this affecting and interesting document, which reinstated her in her position as first confidante of Miss Crawley, Mrs. Firkin entered the room. "Here's Mrs. Bute Crawley just arrived by the mail from Hampshire, and wants some tea; will you come down and make breakfast, Miss?" And to the surprise of Firkin, clasping her dressing-gown around her, the wisp of hair floating dishevelled behind her, the little curl-papers still sticking in bunches round her forehead, Briggs sailed down to Mrs. Bute with the letter in her hand containing the wonderful news. "Oh, Mrs. Firkin," gasped Betty, "sech a business. Miss Sharp have a gone and run away with the Capting, and they're off to Gretney Green!" We would devote a chapter to describe the emotions of Mrs. Firkin, did not the passions of her mistresses occupy our genteeler muse. When Mrs. Bute Crawley, numbed with midnight travelling, and warming herself at the newly crackling parlour fire, heard from Miss Briggs the intelligence of the clandestine marriage, she declared it was quite providential that she should have arrived at such a time to assist poor dear Miss Crawley in supporting the shock--that Rebecca was an artful little hussy of whom she had always had her suspicions; and that as for Rawdon Crawley, she never could account for his aunt's infatuation regarding him, and had long considered him a profligate, lost, and abandoned being. And this awful conduct, Mrs. Bute said, will have at least this good effect, it will open poor dear Miss Crawley's eyes to the real character of this wicked man. Then Mrs. Bute had a comfortable hot toast and tea; and as there was a vacant room in the house now, there was no need for her to remain at the Gloster Coffee House where the Portsmouth mail had set her down, and whence she ordered Mr. Bowls's aide-de-camp the footman to bring away her trunks. Miss Crawley, be it known, did not leave her room until near noon-- taking chocolate in bed in the morning, while Becky Sharp read the Morning Post to her, or otherwise amusing herself or dawdling. The conspirators below agreed that they would spare the dear lady's feelings until she appeared in her drawing-room: meanwhile it was announced to her that Mrs. Bute Crawley had come up from Hampshire by the mail, was staying at the Gloster, sent her love to Miss Crawley, and asked for breakfast with Miss Briggs. The arrival of Mrs. Bute, which would not have caused any extreme delight at another period, was hailed with pleasure now; Miss Crawley being pleased at the notion of a gossip with her sister-in-law regarding the late Lady Crawley, the funeral arrangements pending, and Sir Pitt's abrupt proposal to Rebecca. It was not until the old lady was fairly ensconced in her usual arm- chair in the drawing-room, and the preliminary embraces and inquiries had taken place between the ladies, that the conspirators thought it advisable to submit her to the operation. Who has not admired the artifices and delicate approaches with which women "prepare" their friends for bad news? Miss Crawley's two friends made such an apparatus of mystery before they broke the intelligence to her, that they worked her up to the necessary degree of doubt and alarm. "And she refused Sir Pitt, my dear, dear Miss Crawley, prepare yourself for it," Mrs. Bute said, "because--because she couldn't help herself." "Of course there was a reason," Miss Crawley answered. "She liked somebody else. I told Briggs so yesterday." "LIKES somebody else!" Briggs gasped. "O my dear friend, she is married already." "Married already," Mrs. Bute chimed in; and both sate with clasped hands looking from each other at their victim. "Send her to me, the instant she comes in. The little sly wretch: how dared she not tell me?" cried out Miss Crawley. "She won't come in soon. Prepare yourself, dear friend--she's gone out for a long time--she's--she's gone altogether." "Gracious goodness, and who's to make my chocolate? Send for her and have her back; I desire that she come back," the old lady said. "She decamped last night, Ma'am," cried Mrs. Bute. "She left a letter for me," Briggs exclaimed. "She's married to--" "Prepare her, for heaven's sake. Don't torture her, my dear Miss Briggs." "She's married to whom?" cries the spinster in a nervous fury. "To--to a relation of--" "She refused Sir Pitt," cried the victim. "Speak at once. Don't drive me mad." "O Ma'am--prepare her, Miss Briggs--she's married to Rawdon Crawley." "Rawdon married Rebecca--governess--nobod-- Get out of my house, you fool, you idiot--you stupid old Briggs--how dare you? You're in the plot--you made him marry, thinking that I'd leave my money from him-- you did, Martha," the poor old lady screamed in hysteric sentences. "I, Ma'am, ask a member of this family to marry a drawing-master's daughter?" "Her mother was a Montmorency," cried out the old lady, pulling at the bell with all her might. "Her mother was an opera girl, and she has been on the stage or worse herself," said Mrs. Bute. Miss Crawley gave a final scream, and fell back in a faint. They were forced to take her back to the room which she had just quitted. One fit of hysterics succeeded another. The doctor was sent for-- the apothecary arrived. Mrs. Bute took up the post of nurse by her bedside. "Her relations ought to be round about her," that amiable woman said. She had scarcely been carried up to her room, when a new person arrived to whom it was also necessary to break the news. This was Sir Pitt. "Where's Becky?" he said, coming in. "Where's her traps? She's coming with me to Queen's Crawley." "Have you not heard the astonishing intelligence regarding her surreptitious union?" Briggs asked. "What's that to me?" Sir Pitt asked. "I know she's married. That makes no odds. Tell her to come down at once, and not keep me." "Are you not aware, sir," Miss Briggs asked, "that she has left our roof, to the dismay of Miss Crawley, who is nearly killed by the intelligence of Captain Rawdon's union with her?" When Sir Pitt Crawley heard that Rebecca was married to his son, he broke out into a fury of language, which it would do no good to repeat in this place, as indeed it sent poor Briggs shuddering out of the room; and with her we will shut the door upon the figure of the frenzied old man, wild with hatred and insane with baffled desire. One day after he went to Queen's Crawley, he burst like a madman into the room she had used when there--dashed open her boxes with his foot, and flung about her papers, clothes, and other relics. Miss Horrocks, the butler's daughter, took some of them. The children dressed themselves and acted plays in the others. It was but a few days after the poor mother had gone to her lonely burying- place; and was laid, unwept and disregarded, in a vault full of strangers. "Suppose the old lady doesn't come to," Rawdon said to his little wife, as they sate together in the snug little Brompton lodgings. She had been trying the new piano all the morning. The new gloves fitted her to a nicety; the new shawls became her wonderfully; the new rings glittered on her little hands, and the new watch ticked at her waist; "suppose she don't come round, eh, Becky?" "I'LL make your fortune," she said; and Delilah patted Samson's cheek. "You can do anything," he said, kissing the little hand. "By Jove you can; and we'll drive down to the Star and Garter, and dine, by Jove." 第 十 六 章    针 插 上 的 信     他们两个怎么结婚的呢?这件事和别人一点儿不相干.一个成年的上尉和一个成年的小姐买了张结婚证书在本城的一个教堂里成了亲,又有谁来干涉?一个女人只要打定了主意,要什么就能有什么,这道理有谁不明白?照我看来,事情是这样的:在夏泼小姐到勒塞尔广场去拜访她好朋友爱米丽亚.赛特笠小姐的那天早上,有个模样和她相仿的小姐,同着个染了胡子的男人一齐走进市中心的一个教堂里去.过了一刻钟,那男的重新陪她出来.路上本来有一辆街车等在那里,他就把她送进了车子.他们就这么悄没声儿的结了婚.     咱们经历的事情也不少了,难道听得男人娶了太太还会不相信吗?多少有学问的聪明人娶了家里的厨娘.连霭尔登勋爵(霭尔登(Ｌｏｒｄ　Ｅｌｄｏｎ,１７５１—１８３８),英国法官,１７７２年与银行家的女儿私奔.)那么精细的人还跟人私奔呢!亚基利斯和爱杰克斯(亚基利斯和爱杰克斯是荷马史诗《伊利亚特》中的两名勇将.亚基利斯的爱人名叫白莉茜思,爱杰克斯的爱人名叫戴克梅莎.罗马诗人贺拉斯诗里论有身分的人爱女婢,就举这两人为例.)不是都看中了自己的女佣人吗?罗登不过是个粗笨的骑兵,情欲又强,头脑又简单,又是一辈子任性惯了的.你怎么能指望这样一个人忽然变得谨慎起来呢?况且他也不是个精明人,不会一面由着性儿胡闹,一面斤斤较量不肯吃亏.如果所有的人娶亲的时候都打细算盘,世界上的人口一定要大大的减少.     就拿这本书里面关于罗登的记载来说,我认为他的亲事还算他干的勾当里头最正派的呢!一个男人看中了一个女人,后来娶了她,总不能算丢脸的事.这高大的兵士对于蓓基先是佩服,渐渐的喜欢她,爱她,觉得她了不起,到后来真可说全心全意的相信她,发狂似的恋着她了.他这样的行为,至少太太小姐们是不责怪的.利蓓加唱歌的时候,他的大身子整个儿酥麻了,心眼儿里面原是一片混沌,也觉得兴奋起来了.利蓓加说话的时候,他聚精会神的倾听和叹赏.如果利蓓加说笑话,他就把这些笑话细心揣摩,半个钟头以后在街上呵呵的大笑,往往把坐在旁边替他赶车的马夫,或是在洛顿街和他并排骑马的同伴吓一大跳.利蓓加的一言一语在他都是天上传下来的神谕,她的一举一动无一不是又文雅又有道理.他心下暗想:"她唱得多好!画的多好!在女王的克劳莱,她骑那匹爱尥蹶子的母马骑得多好!"有的时候两个人谈心,他就说:"喝!蓓基,你真配做总司令,或者做坎脱白莱大主教,喝!"像他这样的人其实并不在少数.我们不是天天看见老实的赫寇利思给翁法儿牵着鼻子走吗(赫寇利思是希腊大神宙斯的儿子,是著名的大力士,后来不幸发疯,被卖给利底亚的皇后做奴隶.他爱上了女主人,天天顺从地在女人堆里纺纱.)?又高又大.满嘴胡子的参孙不是常常匍匐在大利拉的怀里吗(参孙是《圣经》中的大力士.他的爱人大利拉知道他的力量全在头发里,就把秘密出卖给要害他的非利士人.)?     蓓基告诉罗登说事情已经到了要紧关头,应该马上着手行动,他听了一口答应服从她的指挥.如果他的团长命令他带着军队往前进攻,他也不过这样顺从.他没把信夹在朴帝乌斯的第三册训戒里面,因为第二天利蓓加没费力气就避开了她的同伴布立葛丝,自己走到"老地方"和她忠心的朋友见面.她隔夜已经通盘计算了一下,就把主意说给罗登听.罗登呢,当然什么都赞成.蓓基想的法子不消说是好的,对的,克劳莱小姐过不了几时也一定会回心转意的.如果利蓓加的打算和原来的完全不同,他也会不问是非照着去做.他说:"蓓基,你一个人的脑子够咱们两个人用的了.你准会把这个难关渡过去.我也算见过些能干利落的人,可是没一个比得上你的."神魂颠倒的骑兵这么三言两语的表示了自己的信心,就照着利蓓加的计策,把她指给他的差使办起来.     这差使并不难,不过给克劳莱上尉和克劳莱太太在白朗浦顿或是军营附近冷静的所在租几间屋子.原来利蓓加已经决定逃走了,我觉得她这一着倒走得很聪明.几星期来,罗登老是央求蓓基跟他私奔,因此这一下真是求之不得.他骑着马飞奔出去租房子......一个人恋爱的时候总是那么性急......一口答应出两基尼一星期的房钱.房东太太见他那么爽快,懊悔把价钱开得这么低.罗登租了一架钢琴,又定了许多鲜花,足足把半个花店都买空了.除此以外,他还赊了一大堆讲究东西.他正是恋爱得昏头昏脑的当儿,铺子里又许他没有限止的赊账,因此他带回来不知多少东西,像披肩.羊皮手套.丝袜.法国金表.手镯.香水等等.他这样狠命的买了许多礼物,心上轻松了些,随后上俱乐部心神不宁的吃了一餐饭,等着迎接一生的重要关头.     克劳莱小姐经过隔天的许多事情,看着利蓓加行出事来很识大体,竟肯不顾自己回绝了一头好亲事,又见她为着不能出口的伤心事郁郁不乐,而且温和顺从,悄没声儿的忍受着痛苦,不由得自己的心肠也软了.凡是发生了像结婚.求爱.拒婚这一类的事情,阖家的女人准会振奋激动,对于当局人表示同情.我向来喜欢观察人性,每逢时髦场里娶妇嫁女最忙碌的时节,我总爱到汉诺佛广场的圣.乔治教堂里去看热闹.我从来没有看见新郎的男朋友淌眼抹泪,教堂里的办事员和主持婚礼的牧师也并不见得感动.可是女人们就不同了,常常有些不相干的闲人,像老早过了结婚年龄的老太太,儿女成群的中年胖妇人,都在旁边掉眼泪.戴粉红帽子的漂亮小姑娘更不必提了;她们不久也要轮到做新娘的,当然对于婚礼更有兴趣.这些女人哭的呜呜咽咽,抽抽搭搭,一面擤鼻涕,一面把毫无用处的小手帕掩住小脸蛋儿,不论老幼,都感动得胸脯一起一伏的哭着.我的时髦朋友约翰.毕姆立郭和蓓儿格拉薇亚.葛丽痕.派克小姐结婚的时候,在场的人都兴奋的不得了,连教堂里管座位的乌眉烟嘴的小老太婆,一面领我到位子上去,一面也在落眼泪.我暗想道:"这可怪了,又不是她在做新娘."     总而言之,毕脱爵士的事情发生以后,克劳莱小姐和布立葛丝尽情的让心里的感情发泄了一下,都对利蓓加深深的怜惜起来.她不在旁边的时候,克劳莱小姐自己在书房里找了一本专讲多情男女的小说消遣.夏泼凭着心里的隐痛,成了当天的要人.     那天晚上,利蓓加说的话格外风趣,唱的歌格外悦耳,在派克街还是头一回呢.克劳莱小姐的心整个儿给她缠住了.利蓓加笑着随随便便的说起毕脱爵士求婚的事,仿佛这不过是上了年纪的人荒谬糊涂的想头.她眼泪汪汪的说她只愿意永远跟着亲爱的恩人,别的什么也不想,布立葛丝听了这话,心里说不出来有多少难过失望.老太太答道:"我的小宝贝儿,你放心,这几年里头,我再也不会放你离开我.经过了这件事,你决不能再跟着我那讨厌的弟弟回去了.你就住在这儿,跟我和布立葛丝做伴.布立葛丝是常常要到她亲戚家里去的.布立葛丝,如今你爱什么时候回去都行.你呢,亲爱的,你得住在这儿照顾我这老婆子了."     如果罗登不在俱乐部里心慌意乱的喝红酒而留在派克街的话,那么他们夫妻俩只消就地跪下来向老小姐坦白认错,一眨眼的功夫就会得到大赦.可惜天没把这样的好运气赏给这对小夫妻,想必是因为怕我这本书写不成的缘故.我这小说里面提到他们的许多奇遇;如果克劳莱小姐饶恕了他们,让他们住下来跟着她一起过又舒服又单调的日子,这些事情就不会落到他们头上去了.     在派克街的公馆里,有一个从汉泊郡雇来的丫头,在孚金手下当差.这女孩子除了干别的活不算,还得每天早上把夏泼小姐洗脸用的一壶热水给她送进房去.孚金自己是宁死也不肯给那硬挤进来的外路人当这差的.这女孩子从小在克劳莱家的庄地上长大,还有个哥哥,在克劳莱上尉的部队里当兵.如果把话都说穿,我想有好些事情她是知道底细的.这些事和我们这本书的关系着实不小.别的不说,她新近买了一条黄披肩,一双绿靴子,一顶浅蓝帽子,上面插着一根红的鸟毛,一共花了三基尼,都是利蓓加给她的钱.夏泼向来撒不开手,这一回居然肯花钱贿赂贝蒂.马丁,想必是使唤她做了什么事.     毕脱爵士向夏泼小姐求婚的第二天,太阳照旧升起来,贝蒂.马丁(她专管收拾楼上)到了一定的钟点,也照常去敲那家庭教师卧房的房门.     里面没有回答.她又敲了一下,屋里依旧没有响动.贝蒂拿着热水壶,自己开了门走进去.     蓓基的小床还是前一天贝蒂帮着铺的,上面盖着白色线毯,像刚铺好的时候一样平伏整齐.两只小箱子用绳子捆了起来搁在房间的一头.窗子前面的桌子上摆着个针插......这针插又肥又大,配着粉红里子,外面像女人的睡帽一样织成斜纹......上面搁着一封信.看来它在针插上已经搁了整整一夜.     贝蒂踮着脚走过去,仿佛害怕吵醒了它.她看看信,又前后左右瞧了一下,似乎是很诧异.又很喜欢的样子.她咧开大嘴笑嘻嘻的拿起信来,正面反面,颠倒横竖的瞧了一会,才把它拿到楼下布立葛丝房里去.     真奇怪,贝蒂怎么知道这封信是写给布立葛丝的呢?她上的学就不过是别德.克劳莱太太办的圣经班,在她眼睛里,所有的字都像希伯莱文那么难懂.     女孩子嚷道:"嗳哟,布立葛丝小姐!唷,小姐呀!出了事啦!夏泼小姐房里没有人,床上也没有睡过.她跑了,留下这信给您的,小姐."     布立葛丝小姐的梳子从她手里掉下来,她那稀稀疏疏褪了色的头发披在肩膀上.她嚷道:"什么!私奔啦?夏泼小姐跑掉啦?到底怎么回事?"她来不及的撕开了整齐的封蜡,像有些人说的,把那封信一口吞下去似的读了一遍.私奔的人信上写着:     亲爱的布立葛丝小姐:你是最心慈的,一定会可怜我,同情我,原谅我.我这样一个可怜没爹娘的人,在这儿受到多少的看顾照料,如今只能离家了.我一面走,一面流着眼泪为大家祝福和祈祷.叫我离开此地的人是有权利要我跟着他走的.他的权利甚至于胜过我的恩人,我现在走向我的责任,到我丈夫那里去了.是的,我已经结了婚.我的丈夫命令我回到我们寒素的家里去......回到我们自己的家里去.最亲爱的布立葛丝小姐,你的感情是细致的,你是富有同情心的,你知道应该怎么向我的好朋友......我的恩人......报告消息.告诉她,我临走的时候还在她的枕上洒了好些泪珠儿......在她病中,我多少回在她的枕边看护她啊!告诉她,我现在希望再回来伺候她.唉,如果我能够重新回到派克街,多快乐呀!我战战兢兢的等候回音......等候那决定我命运的回音.前回承毕脱爵士看得起我,向我求婚的时候,亲爱的克劳莱小姐说我是配得上他的.我为她祝福,因为她竟然认为我这可怜的孤儿够得上资格做她的弟妇.我告诉毕脱爵士说我已经做了另外一个人的妻子,连他也饶恕了我.我应该当时把事实和盘托出,可是我没有那么大的勇气......我该告诉他,我不能做他的妻子,因为我已经是他的媳妇!我嫁了天下最高尚最慷慨的人......克劳莱小姐的罗登也就是我的罗登.他下了命令,我才敢开口谈出我的秘密,跟着他回到我们寒素的家里去,并且准备随着他走到天涯地角.唉,我的亲爱的慈悲的好朋友,求你为我的罗登在他的姑妈面前说句好话,也为这可怜的女孩子说句好话.对于这女孩子,罗登高贵的本家个个都是空前的仁慈.求克劳莱小姐让她的孩子们回来吧!我不能再说下去了.求上天赐福给这家子所有的亲爱的人儿.如今我只能走了.     你亲切的感激涕零的朋友     利蓓加.克劳莱     午夜     这封信使布立葛丝恢复了本来的地位,又成了克劳莱小姐的第一位亲信.她刚把这封又动人又有趣的信看完,就是孚金姑娘走进来说:"别德.克劳莱太太刚坐了邮车从汉泊郡赶到这儿.她要喝点茶.你下来预备早饭好吗,小姐?"     布立葛丝脑后乱七八糟的拖着一把稀稀朗朗的头发,脑门上堆着一堆卷头发用的纸条,她把梳妆衣裹一裹紧,一手拿着报告好消息的信,昂头挺胸的下楼去找别德太太,倒把孚金吓了一跳.     贝蒂喘着气说道:"嗳唷,孚金姑娘,出了大事啦!夏泼跟着上尉跑了.他们到葛莱替那村(葛莱替那村(Ｇｒｅｔｎｅｙ　Ｇｒｅｅｎ)在苏格兰边境.从前在苏格兰结婚最方便,所以私奔的人都上苏格兰.到现在"葛莱替那村的婚姻"已成了英文中的成语了.)里去结婚了."要描写孚金姑娘心里的感觉,需要专写一章才行.可惜我这上等的艺术只管形容她主妇的情感,所以只好罢了.     别德.克劳莱太太半夜赶路,冻得僵了,在客厅里烤火.新点的火必必剥剥的响着,别德太太一面取暖,一面听布立葛丝小姐报告利蓓加他们偷偷结婚的消息.她说,谢天谢地,亏得她在这时候赶到,正好帮忙可怜的亲爱的克劳莱小姐担当这样的打击.她说利蓓加是个诡计多端的死丫头,她本人早就疑心她不正经.讲到罗登.克劳莱呢,她老早说他是个该死下流的无赖,不明白他姑妈为什么溺爱他.别德太太又说,他做出这样的混帐事来,倒也有个好处,至少可以叫亲爱的克劳莱小姐睁开眼看看清楚这坏东西的真面目.别德太太吃了些热的烤面包,喝了些滚热的茶,觉得很受用.现在屋子里既然有一间卧房空着,她也不必住客店了,便使唤鲍尔斯手下的听差到葛洛思德旅馆里去把她的箱子拿来.她坐的是扑兹默斯邮车,就在那旅馆里下车.     你记住,克劳莱小姐不到中午是不出房门的.早上,她坐在床上喝巧克力茶,蓓基.夏泼在旁边把《晨报》读给她听,或是她自己找些别的消遣把时候混过去.楼下的两个人私底下商量了一下,觉得最好暂时不去伤她的心,等她到起坐间以后再说.当下只说别德.克劳莱太太坐了邮车从汉泊郡出来,暂且住在葛洛思德旅馆里;她问克劳莱小姐好,现在正在底下和布立葛丝小姐一块儿吃早饭.平常的时候,克劳莱小姐听得别德太太来了不会觉得特别高兴,这一回却非常喜欢,因为一则可以和弟妇俩谈谈克劳莱夫人怎么死,乡下准备怎么送丧等等,二则又可以告诉她毕脱爵士突如其来向利蓓加求婚的情形.     老太太到了起坐间,安坐在自己常使的圈椅里面,和弟妇互相拥抱,问了好.其余的两个人是预先串通好的,觉得时机已到,便预备开口了.女人们把坏消息告诉好朋友的时候,惯会用些花巧,先缓缓的露个口风,那种手段,没有人看了不佩服.克劳莱小姐的两个朋友把秘密揭穿之前,先把空气制造得十分神秘,弄得那老太太惊疑不定......那惊疑的程度,却是不多不少,恰到好处.     别德太太先说:"我最亲爱的克劳莱小姐,你听了别急.她拒绝毕脱爵士的缘故,是......是因为她不能答应."     克劳莱小姐答道:"这还用说?当然是有原因的.她喜欢另外一个男人.昨天我就告诉布立葛丝了."     布立葛丝倒抽一口气说道:"您说她喜欢另外一个人吗?唉!亲爱的朋友,她已经结婚啦!"     别德太太插进来说:"已经结过婚啦."说着,她们两人交叉着十个手指头,对瞧了一眼,又转过眼睛望着那个受她们捉弄的老太太.     克劳莱小姐叫起来道:"她回来之后叫她马上到我这儿来.这混帐东西太不老实.她竟敢瞒着我吗!"     "她一时还不会回来呢.亲爱的朋友,心上先有个准备吧.她要过好些时候才回来呢.她......她不回来了."     老太太说道:"老天哪!她走了叫谁给我做巧克力茶呢?把她叫回来.我要她回来."     别德太太嚷嚷着说道:"她昨儿晚上逃走了啊!"     布立葛丝也嚷嚷着说:"她留了一封信给我.她说她嫁给......"     "看老天面上,你可得说和软点儿,别吓着她,布立葛丝."     老小姐又急又火,嚷道:"她嫁给谁?"     "她嫁给您的......一个本家......"     受捉弄的人嚷道:"她说过不嫁毕脱爵士的.马上说给我听.别叫我急的发疯."     "嗳唷,布立葛丝小姐,你可说和软点儿啊!她嫁了罗登.克劳莱."     可怜的老太太发狂似的大叫道:"罗登结婚......利蓓加......家庭教师......低三下四的......给我滚出去,你这傻瓜,你这蠢东西!布立葛丝,你这蠢老婆子,你竟敢这样儿!玛莎,你是通同一气的......是你叫他结婚的......你以为这样我的钱就不给他了."     "难道我会叫本家的爷们娶个图画教员的女儿不成?"     "她母亲是蒙脱莫伦西家里的人!"老太太一面嚷嚷,一面使劲拉铃.     别德太太答道:"她妈是歌剧院里唱戏的.她自己也上过台,说不定还做过更下流的事呢."     克劳莱小姐大叫一声,晕过去了.虽然她刚刚离开卧房,她们只好仍旧把她抬回去.她发狂似的一阵阵哭喊吵闹.大家忙着请了好几个医生回来.别德太太坐在她床旁做她的看护.这和蔼可亲的太太说:"本家的人应该守在她身边才对."     克劳莱小姐刚给抬到楼上,底下又来了一个人.原来是毕脱爵士到了;这消息少不得也要告诉他.他进来说:"蓓基在哪儿?她的行李呢?她今天要跟我上女王的克劳莱去的."     布立葛丝问道:"您难道没听见这意外的新闻吗?您还不知道她秘密结婚吗?"     毕脱爵士道:"那关我什么事?我知道她已经结婚了.这有什么关系?叫她快下来吧,别尽着让我等了."     布立葛丝问道:"您还不知道吗?她已经不在这屋子里了.克劳莱小姐为这件事大吃一惊.她知道罗登上尉娶了利蓓加,差点儿没有气死."     毕脱爵士听得利蓓加嫁了他的儿子,破口大骂,这些难听的话我也不必记载.可怜的布立葛丝听得浑身打战,连忙走出来.老头儿心里说不出来的怨毒,又干瞧着个妙人儿给人抢去,气得几乎发疯,一劲儿的大嚷大骂,咱们别看他了,关上门跟着布立葛丝一起出来吧.     毕脱爵士回到女王的克劳莱的第二天,像疯子一样冲到蓓基从前的屋子里,一脚踢开她的箱子,把她的文件,衣服,还有别的零星东西散了一地.佣人头儿的女儿霍洛克斯小姐趁便拿了些去.剩下的衣服,两个孩子穿上做戏玩耍.那时候她们的妈妈才下葬没有几天.那可怜的女人冷清清的安葬在克劳莱本家的墓穴里,四面的死人全是陌生的.她落葬的时候没有人哭,大家随随便便的不当一回事.     罗登和他娇小的太太住在白朗浦顿一所舒服的小屋子里.蓓基整个上午在试弹新的钢琴.新手套刚刚是她的尺寸;新披肩围上非常的漂亮;新戒指在她手上发光;新手表在她手腕上滴答滴答的响.罗登说道:"如果老太太不肯回心转意怎么办呢?蓓基,如果她不肯回心转意怎么办呢?"     大利拉拍拍参孙的脸说:"那么我来替你挣一份家私."     他吻着她的小手说道:"你干什么都行.你干什么都行.咱们今天坐车上宝星勋章饭店(伦敦的时髦饭店,在里却蒙.)吃饭去吧,喝!"

CHAPTER XVII How Captain Dobbin Bought a Piano If there is any exhibition in all Vanity Fair which Satire and Sentiment can visit arm in arm together; where you light on the strangest contrasts laughable and tearful: where you may be gentle and pathetic, or savage and cynical with perfect propriety: it is at one of those public assemblies, a crowd of which are advertised every day in the last page of the Times newspaper, and over which the late Mr. George Robins used to preside with so much dignity. There are very few London people, as I fancy, who have not attended at these meetings, and all with a taste for moralizing must have thought, with a sensation and interest not a little startling and queer, of the day when their turn shall come too, and Mr. Hammerdown will sell by the orders of Diogenes' assignees, or will be instructed by the executors, to offer to public competition, the library, furniture, plate, wardrobe, and choice cellar of wines of Epicurus deceased. Even with the most selfish disposition, the Vanity Fairian, as he witnesses this sordid part of the obsequies of a departed friend, can't but feel some sympathies and regret. My Lord Dives's remains are in the family vault: the statuaries are cutting an inscription veraciously commemorating his virtues, and the sorrows of his heir, who is disposing of his goods. What guest at Dives's table can pass the familiar house without a sigh?--the familiar house of which the lights used to shine so cheerfully at seven o'clock, of which the hall-doors opened so readily, of which the obsequious servants, as you passed up the comfortable stair, sounded your name from landing to landing, until it reached the apartment where jolly old Dives welcomed his friends! What a number of them he had; and what a noble way of entertaining them. How witty people used to be here who were morose when they got out of the door; and how courteous and friendly men who slandered and hated each other everywhere else! He was pompous, but with such a cook what would one not swallow? he was rather dull, perhaps, but would not such wine make any conversation pleasant? We must get some of his Burgundy at any price, the mourners cry at his club. "I got this box at old Dives's sale," Pincher says, handing it round, "one of Louis XV's mistresses-- pretty thing, is it not?--sweet miniature," and they talk of the way in which young Dives is dissipating his fortune. How changed the house is, though! The front is patched over with bills, setting forth the particulars of the furniture in staring capitals. They have hung a shred of carpet out of an upstairs window--a half dozen of porters are lounging on the dirty steps--the hall swarms with dingy guests of oriental countenance, who thrust printed cards into your hand, and offer to bid. Old women and amateurs have invaded the upper apartments, pinching the bed- curtains, poking into the feathers, shampooing the mattresses, and clapping the wardrobe drawers to and fro. Enterprising young housekeepers are measuring the looking-glasses and hangings to see if they will suit the new menage (Snob will brag for years that he has purchased this or that at Dives's sale), and Mr. Hammerdown is sitting on the great mahogany dining-tables, in the dining-room below, waving the ivory hammer, and employing all the artifices of eloquence, enthusiasm, entreaty, reason, despair; shouting to his people; satirizing Mr. Davids for his sluggishness; inspiriting Mr. Moss into action; imploring, commanding, bellowing, until down comes the hammer like fate, and we pass to the next lot. O Dives, who would ever have thought, as we sat round the broad table sparkling with plate and spotless linen, to have seen such a dish at the head of it as that roaring auctioneer? It was rather late in the sale. The excellent drawing-room furniture by the best makers; the rare and famous wines selected, regardless of cost, and with the well-known taste of the purchaser; the rich and complete set of family plate had been sold on the previous days. Certain of the best wines (which all had a great character among amateurs in the neighbourhood) had been purchased for his master, who knew them very well, by the butler of our friend John Osborne, Esquire, of Russell Square. A small portion of the most useful articles of the plate had been bought by some young stockbrokers from the City. And now the public being invited to the purchase of minor objects, it happened that the orator on the table was expatiating on the merits of a picture, which he sought to recommend to his audience: it was by no means so select or numerous a company as had attended the previous days of the auction. "No. 369," roared Mr. Hammerdown. "Portrait of a gentleman on an elephant. Who'll bid for the gentleman on the elephant? Lift up the picture, Blowman, and let the company examine this lot." A long, pale, military-looking gentleman, seated demurely at the mahogany table, could not help grinning as this valuable lot was shown by Mr. Blowman. "Turn the elephant to the Captain, Blowman. What shall we say, sir, for the elephant?" but the Captain, blushing in a very hurried and discomfited manner, turned away his head. "Shall we say twenty guineas for this work of art?--fifteen, five, name your own price. The gentleman without the elephant is worth five pound." "I wonder it ain't come down with him," said a professional wag, "he's anyhow a precious big one"; at which (for the elephant-rider was represented as of a very stout figure) there was a general giggle in the room. "Don't be trying to deprecate the value of the lot, Mr. Moss," Mr. Hammerdown said; "let the company examine it as a work of art--the attitude of the gallant animal quite according to natur'; the gentleman in a nankeen jacket, his gun in his hand, is going to the chase; in the distance a banyhann tree and a pagody, most likely resemblances of some interesting spot in our famous Eastern possessions. How much for this lot? Come, gentlemen, don't keep me here all day." Some one bid five shillings, at which the military gentleman looked towards the quarter from which this splendid offer had come, and there saw another officer with a young lady on his arm, who both appeared to be highly amused with the scene, and to whom, finally, this lot was knocked down for half a guinea. He at the table looked more surprised and discomposed than ever when he spied this pair, and his head sank into his military collar, and he turned his back upon them, so as to avoid them altogether. Of all the other articles which Mr. Hammerdown had the honour to offer for public competition that day it is not our purpose to make mention, save of one only, a little square piano, which came down from the upper regions of the house (the state grand piano having been disposed of previously); this the young lady tried with a rapid and skilful hand (making the officer blush and start again), and for it, when its turn came, her agent began to bid. But there was an opposition here. The Hebrew aide-de-camp in the service of the officer at the table bid against the Hebrew gentleman employed by the elephant purchasers, and a brisk battle ensued over this little piano, the combatants being greatly encouraged by Mr. Hammerdown. At last, when the competition had been prolonged for some time, the elephant captain and lady desisted from the race; and the hammer coming down, the auctioneer said:--"Mr. Lewis, twenty-five," and Mr. Lewis's chief thus became the proprietor of the little square piano. Having effected the purchase, he sate up as if he was greatly relieved, and the unsuccessful competitors catching a glimpse of him at this moment, the lady said to her friend, "Why, Rawdon, it's Captain Dobbin." I suppose Becky was discontented with the new piano her husband had hired for her, or perhaps the proprietors of that instrument had fetched it away, declining farther credit, or perhaps she had a particular attachment for the one which she had just tried to purchase, recollecting it in old days, when she used to play upon it, in the little sitting-room of our dear Amelia Sedley. The sale was at the old house in Russell Square, where we passed some evenings together at the beginning of this story. Good old John Sedley was a ruined man. His name had been proclaimed as a defaulter on the Stock Exchange, and his bankruptcy and commercial extermination had followed. Mr. Osborne's butler came to buy some of the famous port wine to transfer to the cellars over the way. As for one dozen well-manufactured silver spoons and forks at per oz., and one dozen dessert ditto ditto, there were three young stockbrokers (Messrs. Dale, Spiggot, and Dale, of Threadneedle Street, indeed), who, having had dealings with the old man, and kindnesses from him in days when he was kind to everybody with whom he dealt, sent this little spar out of the wreck with their love to good Mrs. Sedley; and with respect to the piano, as it had been Amelia's, and as she might miss it and want one now, and as Captain William Dobbin could no more play upon it than he could dance on the tight rope, it is probable that he did not purchase the instrument for his own use. In a word, it arrived that evening at a wonderful small cottage in a street leading from the Fulham Road--one of those streets which have the finest romantic names--(this was called St. Adelaide Villas, Anna-Maria Road West), where the houses look like baby-houses; where the people, looking out of the first-floor windows, must infallibly, as you think, sit with their feet in the parlours; where the shrubs in the little gardens in front bloom with a perennial display of little children's pinafores, little red socks, caps, &c. (polyandria polygynia); whence you hear the sound of jingling spinets and women singing; where little porter pots hang on the railings sunning themselves; whither of evenings you see City clerks padding wearily: here it was that Mr. Clapp, the clerk of Mr. Sedley, had his domicile, and in this asylum the good old gentleman hid his head with his wife and daughter when the crash came. Jos Sedley had acted as a man of his disposition would, when the announcement of the family misfortune reached him. He did not come to London, but he wrote to his mother to draw upon his agents for whatever money was wanted, so that his kind broken-spirited old parents had no present poverty to fear. This done, Jos went on at the boarding-house at Cheltenham pretty much as before. He drove his curricle; he drank his claret; he played his rubber; he told his Indian stories, and the Irish widow consoled and flattered him as usual. His present of money, needful as it was, made little impression on his parents; and I have heard Amelia say that the first day on which she saw her father lift up his head after the failure was on the receipt of the packet of forks and spoons with the young stockbrokers' love, over which he burst out crying like a child, being greatly more affected than even his wife, to whom the present was addressed. Edward Dale, the junior of the house, who purchased the spoons for the firm, was, in fact, very sweet upon Amelia, and offered for her in spite of all. He married Miss Louisa Cutts (daughter of Higham and Cutts, the eminent cornfactors) with a handsome fortune in 1820; and is now living in splendour, and with a numerous family, at his elegant villa, Muswell Hill. But we must not let the recollections of this good fellow cause us to diverge from the principal history. I hope the reader has much too good an opinion of Captain and Mrs. Crawley to suppose that they ever would have dreamed of paying a visit to so remote a district as Bloomsbury, if they thought the family whom they proposed to honour with a visit were not merely out of fashion, but out of money, and could be serviceable to them in no possible manner. Rebecca was entirely surprised at the sight of the comfortable old house where she had met with no small kindness, ransacked by brokers and bargainers, and its quiet family treasures given up to public desecration and plunder. A month after her flight, she had bethought her of Amelia, and Rawdon, with a horse- laugh, had expressed a perfect willingness to see young George Osborne again. "He's a very agreeable acquaintance, Beck," the wag added. "I'd like to sell him another horse, Beck. I'd like to play a few more games at billiards with him. He'd be what I call useful just now, Mrs. C.--ha, ha!" by which sort of speech it is not to be supposed that Rawdon Crawley had a deliberate desire to cheat Mr. Osborne at play, but only wished to take that fair advantage of him which almost every sporting gentleman in Vanity Fair considers to be his due from his neighbour. The old aunt was long in "coming-to." A month had elapsed. Rawdon was denied the door by Mr. Bowls; his servants could not get a lodgment in the house at Park Lane; his letters were sent back unopened. Miss Crawley never stirred out--she was unwell--and Mrs. Bute remained still and never left her. Crawley and his wife both of them augured evil from the continued presence of Mrs. Bute. "Gad, I begin to perceive now why she was always bringing us together at Queen's Crawley," Rawdon said. "What an artful little woman!" ejaculated Rebecca. "Well, I don't regret it, if you don't," the Captain cried, still in an amorous rapture with his wife, who rewarded him with a kiss by way of reply, and was indeed not a little gratified by the generous confidence of her husband. "If he had but a little more brains," she thought to herself, "I might make something of him"; but she never let him perceive the opinion she had of him; listened with indefatigable complacency to his stories of the stable and the mess; laughed at all his jokes; felt the greatest interest in Jack Spatterdash, whose cab-horse had come down, and Bob Martingale, who had been taken up in a gambling- house, and Tom Cinqbars, who was going to ride the steeplechase. When he came home she was alert and happy: when he went out she pressed him to go: when he stayed at home, she played and sang for him, made him good drinks, superintended his dinner, warmed his slippers, and steeped his soul in comfort. The best of women (I have heard my grandmother say) are hypocrites. We don't know how much they hide from us: how watchful they are when they seem most artless and confidential: how often those frank smiles which they wear so easily, are traps to cajole or elude or disarm--I don't mean in your mere coquettes, but your domestic models, and paragons of female virtue. Who has not seen a woman hide the dulness of a stupid husband, or coax the fury of a savage one? We accept this amiable slavishness, and praise a woman for it: we call this pretty treachery truth. A good housewife is of necessity a humbug; and Cornelia's husband was hoodwinked, as Potiphar was--only in a different way. By these attentions, that veteran rake, Rawdon Crawley, found himself converted into a very happy and submissive married man. His former haunts knew him not. They asked about him once or twice at his clubs, but did not miss him much: in those booths of Vanity Fair people seldom do miss each other. His secluded wife ever smiling and cheerful, his little comfortable lodgings, snug meals, and homely evenings, had all the charms of novelty and secrecy. The marriage was not yet declared to the world, or published in the Morning Post. All his creditors would have come rushing on him in a body, had they known that he was united to a woman without fortune. "My relations won't cry fie upon me," Becky said, with rather a bitter laugh; and she was quite contented to wait until the old aunt should be reconciled, before she claimed her place in society. So she lived at Brompton, and meanwhile saw no one, or only those few of her husband's male companions who were admitted into her little dining-room. These were all charmed with her. The little dinners, the laughing and chatting, the music afterwards, delighted all who participated in these enjoyments. Major Martingale never thought about asking to see the marriage licence, Captain Cinqbars was perfectly enchanted with her skill in making punch. And young Lieutenant Spatterdash (who was fond of piquet, and whom Crawley would often invite) was evidently and quickly smitten by Mrs. Crawley; but her own circumspection and modesty never forsook her for a moment, and Crawley's reputation as a fire-eating and jealous warrior was a further and complete defence to his little wife. There are gentlemen of very good blood and fashion in this city, who never have entered a lady's drawing-room; so that though Rawdon Crawley's marriage might be talked about in his county, where, of course, Mrs. Bute had spread the news, in London it was doubted, or not heeded, or not talked about at all. He lived comfortably on credit. He had a large capital of debts, which laid out judiciously, will carry a man along for many years, and on which certain men about town contrive to live a hundred times better than even men with ready money can do. Indeed who is there that walks London streets, but can point out a half-dozen of men riding by him splendidly, while he is on foot, courted by fashion, bowed into their carriages by tradesmen, denying themselves nothing, and living on who knows what? We see Jack Thriftless prancing in the park, or darting in his brougham down Pall Mall: we eat his dinners served on his miraculous plate. "How did this begin," we say, "or where will it end?" "My dear fellow," I heard Jack once say, "I owe money in every capital in Europe." The end must come some day, but in the meantime Jack thrives as much as ever; people are glad enough to shake him by the hand, ignore the little dark stories that are whispered every now and then against him, and pronounce him a good- natured, jovial, reckless fellow. Truth obliges us to confess that Rebecca had married a gentleman of this order. Everything was plentiful in his house but ready money, of which their menage pretty early felt the want; and reading the Gazette one day, and coming upon the announcement of "Lieutenant G. Osborne to be Captain by purchase, vice Smith, who exchanges," Rawdon uttered that sentiment regarding Amelia's lover, which ended in the visit to Russell Square. When Rawdon and his wife wished to communicate with Captain Dobbin at the sale, and to know particulars of the catastrophe which had befallen Rebecca's old acquaintances, the Captain had vanished; and such information as they got was from a stray porter or broker at the auction. "Look at them with their hooked beaks," Becky said, getting into the buggy, her picture under her arm, in great glee. "They're like vultures after a battle." "Don't know. Never was in action, my dear. Ask Martingale; he was in Spain, aide-de-camp to General Blazes." "He was a very kind old man, Mr. Sedley," Rebecca said; "I'm really sorry he's gone wrong." "O stockbrokers--bankrupts--used to it, you know," Rawdon replied, cutting a fly off the horse's ear. "I wish we could have afforded some of the plate, Rawdon," the wife continued sentimentally. "Five-and-twenty guineas was monstrously dear for that little piano. We chose it at Broadwood's for Amelia, when she came from school. It only cost five-and-thirty then." "What-d'-ye-call'em--'Osborne,' will cry off now, I suppose, since the family is smashed. How cut up your pretty little friend will be; hey, Becky?" "I daresay she'll recover it," Becky said with a smile--and they drove on and talked about something else. 第 十 七 章    都宾上尉买了一架钢琴     在名利场里,只有一种公共聚会可以让讽刺家和多情人手拉着手一同参加.那儿的形形色色最不调和,有些逗人发笑,有些却是招人伤心的.不管你是性格温柔.感情丰富的人,还是识破人情.愤世嫉俗的人,这地方都可以兼收并蓄,并不显得矛盾.在《泰晤士报》最后一页上面每天登载着一大排的广告,欢迎大家参加这种集会.乔治.罗平先生(乔治.罗平,当时大拍卖行的主人.)去世以前,也曾经气度雍容的在会上做过主持人.我想凡是住在伦敦的人,大多数都见过这场面.有些人对于人生感慨很多,想起这种事情说不定会轮到自己头上,心上便起了一种异样的感觉,不由得有些害怕.到得那时候,汉默唐(拍卖的时候,每逢一件货物成交,拍卖人便把木槌子敲一下桌子.这里"汉默唐"(Ｈａｍｍｅｒｄｏｗｎ)就是敲槌子的意思.)先生受了第奥盖奈财产管理人的命令,或是各个债权人的委托,就把伊壁鸠鲁(第奥盖奈(Ｄｉｏｇｅｎｅｓ,公元前４１２?—３２３)是希腊犬儒派哲学家,象征刻苦俭朴的人,因他行同乞丐,睡在木盆里,舍弃一切身外之物.伊壁鸠鲁(Ｅｐｉｃｕｒｕｓ,公元前３４２?—２７０)是希腊享乐派哲学家,此地代表生活奢华的阔人.)生前的书籍.家具.金银器皿.衣服和上等好酒公开拍卖了.     哪怕是名利场上最自私的人,看着死去的朋友身后这样不体面,也忍不住要觉得难过和同情.大依芙斯勋爵的尸骨已经埋葬在他家的墓穴里,替他塑像的人在雕像底下刻了一篇句句真实的文章,颂扬他一生的德行,并且描写他的儿子怎么悲痛的情形.他儿子呢,却正在出卖父亲留下来的财产.凡是大依芙斯生前的座上客,走过从前常到的房子,怎么能够不生感叹呢?从前屋子里一到七点钟就灯烛通明,大门一敲就开,殷勤的听差们在楼梯的各个转角上伺候着,当你走上宽敞平坦的楼梯,他们一路传呼着你的名字,一直报到上面的宾客接待室.兴高采烈的大依芙斯老头儿就在那儿招待客人.他的朋友真多,他待客的时候气派也真大.在外面愁眉苦脸的,在他家里变得口角风趣了.在别处互相怨恨诋毁的,在他家里也你敬我爱的了.大依芙斯爱摆架子,可是他的饭菜那么好,客人们还有什么忍不下去的呢?也许他有点儿蠢,可是喝了他的好酒,谁还能嫌他语言无味呢?他俱乐部里许多朋友都在哀悼他.他们说:"咱们把他剩下的勃根第酒买几瓶来吧.价钱倒不必计较."一个叫平却的说:"大依芙斯老头儿家里拍卖,我买了这小匣子."说着,把匣子给大家传观了一下,还说:"这东西本来属于路易十五的不知哪个相好.你们瞧着可好看不好看?这小照真美呢!"接下来,大家都议论大依芙斯的儿子怎么滥吃滥用败家产的情形.     唉!这屋子可真是改了样子了.大门前贴了许多广告,用大方块字写着准备拍卖的家具清单.楼上一个窗口外面挑着一小块地毯,就算旗招儿(拍卖场外面惯常挂一块蓝白方块花纹的旗子.).肮脏的台阶上懒懒的坐着六七个搬��.大厅上挤满了穿戴得不干不净的人,到处把印好的卡片塞在来客手里,自告奋勇代客拍进货色.这些人相貌都像东方人.老太太们和外行的人都在楼上房间里,摸摸帐子,按按褥子,碰碰鸭绒被子,把抽屉乒乒乓乓的一开一关.爱翻新样儿的年轻主妇把幔子和穿衣镜等等一件件量过尺寸,看它们是否适合她的新房子.势利鬼往往喜欢吹牛,说他们在大依芙斯家里买了这个那个的,连着吹好几年也不嫌烦.在楼底下,汉默唐先生正坐在饭厅里的核桃木饭桌上,手里摇着象牙的槌子,耍着各种把戏抬价钱.他滔滔不绝的说话,热烈地夸赞货色,一会儿哀求,一会儿讲理,一会儿做出大失所望的样子.他叫着闹着,戴维兹先生懒洋洋的,他刺他一句;莫师先生不肯上前,他激他一下.他命令着,央告着,扯起嗓子大声嚷嚷.到最后,他的槌子像命运之神一样,啪的一声敲下去,就算成交;然后再拍卖底下一项.唉,大依芙斯,当日咱们围着大饭桌吃饭,桌子上铺着一尘不染的桌布饭巾,满台的金银器皿闪闪发亮,何曾想到菜肴里面还包括这么一个大呼小叫的拍卖人呢?     大拍卖已经快完了.早几天已经卖掉好些东西,像客厅里名工制造的精美的家具,家传的全套金银器皿,还有各色名贵的好酒.这些好酒的原主进货的时候不惜重价,而且对于酒味的好坏是有名的内行,因此邻近一带讲究喝酒的人说起他家的酒来没有不称赏的.咱们的老朋友,勒塞尔广场的约翰.奥斯本先生,知道它们的好处,这次使唤他的佣人头儿把好些最贵重的酒买了下来.刀叉器皿里面最得用的一小部分给市中心几个年轻的股票经纪人买去了.眼前出卖的都是些次要的货色.桌子上面的演说家正在把一张图画推荐给各位买客,一味的称扬它的好处.那天到的人很杂,也远不如前几天拥挤.     汉默唐先生大声嚷道:"第三百六十九项.男人骑象的肖像.谁要买骑象的先生?白罗门,把画儿举起来,大家瞧瞧."一个高个子.苍白脸.军人模样的人,本来静静的坐在桌子旁边,看见白罗门把这名贵的画儿举起来,忍不住嘻开嘴笑起来."白罗门,把画儿给上尉瞧瞧.您肯出多少钱买这头大象哪,先生?"上尉窘得脸上发红,急忙转过脸去.     "这件艺术品二十基尼有谁要买?十五基尼,五基尼,请各位自己开价钱吧.哪怕不连这头大象,单是这位先生就值五镑钱呢."     一位专门说笑话的买客接口道:"真奇怪,这头象倒没给他压倒.这位先生的个子可不小啊!"屋子里的人听了这话都嗤嗤的笑起来,因为画上那骑象的人是个大胖子.     汉默唐先生道:"莫师先生,别把这画儿说的那么不值钱.请各位瞧瞧这件艺术品.瞧这头勇敢的大象姿势多么自然.骑在象背上的先生穿着黄布衣服,手里拿着熗,准备出去打猎.远远的有一棵无花果树,还有一座塔.这画儿上的风景,挺像咱们那有名儿的东方地区里头的一个地方......怪有趣的一个地方.出多少哪?先生们赶快啊,别叫我在这儿等一整天."     有一个人肯出五先令.军人模样的人听了回过头来,瞧瞧究竟是谁出了这么了不起的大价钱.他看见那人也是个军官,胳膊上还吊着个年轻女人.这一对男女仿佛觉得这件事情有趣之极,最后出了半基尼把画儿买下来.坐在桌子旁边的军官看见他们两个,似乎觉得十分诧异,而且比以前更窘了,把头低低的缩在领子里面,背过身来不看他们.     汉默唐先生那天拍卖的许多东西,大都和我们没有关系,不必多说.单说一架从楼上抬下来的小方钢琴(还有一架横丝大钢琴早已卖掉了),那年轻女人用灵巧熟练的手指头在琴上试弹了一下,桌子旁边的军官怔了一怔,又脸红起来.轮到拍卖小钢琴的时候,年轻女人的代理人开口竞买.可是她碰到了敌手.桌子旁边的军官雇佣的犹太人和大象的买主雇佣的犹太人彼此抬价,你来我去的各不相让,汉默唐先生在旁边替两人助势.     两边竞争了一段时候,大象军官和大象太太不争了,拍卖人把槌子啪的一敲,说道:"鲁易斯先生,二十五基尼."这样,鲁易斯先生的主顾就得到了那架小方钢琴.货物成交以后,他似乎很放心,挺直了腰杆坐起来.就在那时候,竞争失败的一对看见了他.女人对她朋友说道:"罗登,那是都宾上尉啊!"     我想大概蓓基不喜欢丈夫替她租来的新钢琴,或者是钢琴的主人不肯再赊账,把它搬了回去.再不然,就是因为她回想到从前住在亲爱的爱米丽亚.赛特笠家里,常常在起坐间里弹这架钢琴,因此对它有特别的感情,要想把它买回去.     拍卖的地点就在勒塞尔广场的老房子里.故事开始的时候,咱们曾经在那里度过几个黄昏.好心的约翰.赛特笠老先生如今已经身败名裂.在证券市场里,大家公认他逃债背约,接下来他宣告破产,在商界里从此不能立脚.奥斯本先生的佣人头儿过来买了好几瓶有名的葡萄酒,拿到对面酒窖里去了.另外有一打精工制造的银匙和银叉(每件净重一两),还有一打吃甜点心用的匙子叉子,是三个年轻的股票经纪人买去的.他们三人是穿针街台尔兄弟和斯毕各脱营业所的老板,以前和老头儿有过交易,得过他的好处(当年他和无论什么人做买卖都是宽厚为怀),这次从残余中捡出这点儿宝物,送给好心的赛特笠太太做个想念.那架小钢琴本来是爱米丽亚的,现在她没有钢琴可弹,也许会想念旧物,而且威廉.都宾并不会弹琴,正好像他不会走绳索一样,所以看上去他买了钢琴不是给自己弹的.     总之一句,那钢琴当天晚上就给送到通福兰路的一条街上一家小巧玲珑的屋子里去.这种街道,名字往往特别花哨动听.这一条叫做安娜玛莉亚西路,这些屋子总称圣.亚迪兰德别墅,都是小不点儿的娃娃屋.如果你看见屋里的人从二楼窗口探出头来,准以为他的脚挂在楼下客厅里.每幢屋子前面有个小小的花园,矮树丛上终年晾着小孩的围嘴.小红袜.帽子等等,有男孩子的,也有小姑娘的,活像开着的花儿.屋子里面常听见有人叮叮东东的弹木琴,还和着女人的歌声.栅栏上晒着一个个啤酒瓮子.到傍晚时分,可以看见好些在市中心做事的书记和职员拖着疲倦的脚步回家.赛特笠先生手下的一个职员叫克拉浦的,就住在此地.这位好心的老先生遭了难,只好带着妻子女儿躲到他家里来.     乔斯.赛特笠听得家里破产以后行出来的事,正可以显出他的为人.他并不回到伦敦来,只写了一封信给他母亲,叫她要钱的时候只管到他代理人那里去支.这样,他的忧伤困顿的.慈祥的老父母眼前总算可以免于穷困.乔斯安排了父母之后,仍旧住在契尔顿纳姆的公寓里,照本来的老样子过日子.他赶马车,喝红酒,打牌,讲印度故事,那爱尔兰寡妇也照常笼络他,奉承他.他送给家里的钱,虽说在家里是极需要的,可是他爹妈倒并不放在心上.我听得爱米丽亚说过,她爸爸自从破产以后没脸见人,只有当他收到那几个年轻股票经纪人送来的一包匙子叉子和问候信以后,才抬起头来.礼物虽然是送给赛特笠太太的,他却比妻子更加感动,竟像孩子似的大声痛哭.匙子叉子是公司的小老板爱德华.台尔出面买下来的,他很喜欢爱米丽亚.爱米的家里虽然到了这步田地,他仍旧愿意娶她.他是在一八二○年结婚的,娶的小姐名叫鲁意莎.葛次,丈人是有名的海厄姆和葛次米粮公司里的股东,赔过来的嫁妆着实不少.他现在过的很阔,儿女成行,住在默思威尔山的一宅漂亮的别墅里.我讲起这位好先生的事情,反而忘了正文,真不应该.     这家子现在不但不走红,而且又没了钱,对于克劳莱上尉和他太太一点儿用处都没有了,还给他们那么大面子,上门拜访吗?我想读者一向佩服他们夫妇俩的识见,当然知道他们如果预先听见了风声,决不会老远的跑到勃鲁姆斯白莱去.利蓓加从前在这所舒服的旧房子里面得到不少好处;她眼看着满屋里给掮客和买主翻得乱腾腾的,藏在角落里的纪念品都给搜出来,大家你抢我夺的不当一回事,真是大出意外.她私奔以后一个月,想起了爱米丽亚.罗登听了她的话呵呵大笑,说他非常愿意再见见乔治.奥斯本这小伙子.他说笑话道:"蓓基,他是个很讨人喜欢的朋友,我想再卖一匹马给他,蓓基.我还想跟他打几盘弹子.眼前他对我倒很有点儿用处,克劳莱太太,呵呵!"读者听了这话,请不要以为罗登.克劳莱安心想在打弹子的时候骗乔治的钱,他不过希望公平合理的沾几文便宜罢了.在名利场上,哪个爱赌钱的人不认为这是自己正当的权利呢?     他们的姑妈总不回心转意,已经过了一个月了.罗登每次在门口给鲍尔斯挡驾;他的佣人们不能再住在派克街;他送去的信也都是原封退回.克劳莱小姐从来不出门,听说身上仍旧不好.别德太太也不动身,一刻不离开克劳莱小姐.克劳莱上尉夫妻两个见别德太太总不回乡下去,便知道事情不妙.     罗登说道:"老天哪!现在我懂了.我知道当时在女王的克劳莱,她为什么老是把咱们两个拉在一块儿了."     利蓓加叫起来道:"好个阴险的婆娘!"     上尉仍旧痴心恋着自己的妻子,便嚷道:"如果你不后悔的话,我也不后悔."他的妻子吻他一下算是回答.她是丈夫倾心相爱,心里很得意.     她暗想道:"可惜他太笨,不然我倒可以把他训练得像个样子."在面子上,她从来不让丈夫知道自己瞧不起他.不管他说什么故事,军营中饭堂里的形形色色呀,马房里的见闻呀,她都平心静气的听着,从来不怕烦.凡是他说笑话,她听了没有不笑的.贾克.斯百脱大希拉车的马摔了交,鲍伯.马丁该儿在赌场上给捉出来,汤姆.生白准备参加野外赛马,对这些她都表示极大的兴趣.他回家的时候,她活泼泼兴冲冲的接着他,他想要出门的时候,她催着他快走.他在家歇息,她便弹琴唱歌给他听,调好酒给他喝,替他预备晚饭,把拖鞋烤暖了给他穿,伺候得他心窝子里都是熨帖的.我听见我祖母说过,最贤良的女人都会假惺惺.我们从来不知道她们心里藏着多少秘密.她们表面上天真烂漫的跟你谈体己话儿,其实是步步留心的提防着你.她们不费力气就能堆下满脸诚恳的笑容,往往为的是哄人,脱滑儿,叫你心软,上她们的当.这些伎俩,不但善于撒娇卖俏的女人,连闺阁中的模范和最贤慧的奶奶太太也都有一手.丈夫太蠢,做妻子的会想法子遮盖他的糊涂;丈夫太凶横,做妻子的会甜言蜜语捺住他的怒气;这些都是常见的情形.我们男人看见她们低头伏小得招人疼爱,反而夸奖她们,把这种粉饰过的诈伪称做忠诚.一个贤慧的妻子哪能不耍手段呢?康耐丽亚(康耐丽亚生在公元前二百年间,是著名的贤妻良母,她的两个儿子都是罗马有名的官吏.)的丈夫和波提乏(波提乏是《圣经.创世记》第二十九章中受骗的丈夫.)一样受骗,不过方式不同罢了.     罗登.克劳莱虽然是酒色场中的老手,经不起利蓓加的体贴服侍,变了个欢天喜地依头顺脑的好丈夫,连以前常到的寻欢作乐的地方也不大见他的影儿了.他俱乐部里的人曾经问起过他一两次,可是并不记挂他.本来,在名利场里的人,谁还记挂着谁呢!罗登家里藏着的妻子总是对他眉开眼笑,他住的又舒服,吃的又受用,每天黄昏尝尝家庭的乐趣,这日子不但过的新奇,而且偷偷摸摸的真有趣.他们结婚的消息还没有公开宣布,也没有上过《晨报》.如果他的债主们知道他娶了没有钱的太太,准会大伙儿赶来逼债.蓓基很牢骚的笑道:"我的亲戚本家倒不会反对我的亲事."她愿意等到老太太回心以后再正式在交际场里露面,因此在白朗浦顿不和人来往,最多跟丈夫几个相熟的男朋友周旋一下,留他们在家吃吃饭.这些人都非常喜欢她.她备了几样菜,一路说说笑笑,饭后弹琴唱歌给他们听,叫那几个客人都觉得怪受用的.马丁该尔少佐压根儿没有想到要看他们的结婚证书.生白上尉十分佩服她调五味酒的本领.年轻的斯百脱大希中尉喜欢玩纸牌,常给罗登请到家里来,也很快的着了她的迷,这是谁都看得出的.好在她自己步步留心,不肯胡来,再加克劳莱是有名的爆炭,多疑心,好打架,对于他的妻子更是一道最有力量的护身符.     在伦敦城里,有许多时髦的世家公子一辈子没有踏进女人的起坐间,因此罗登.克劳莱本乡本区里面虽然因为别德太太的宣传而大家谈论着他的亲事,在伦敦的人倒不敢肯定,有些人是不理会,有些人根本不谈这件事.罗登靠赊账过日子,倒很舒服.他的本钱就是他欠下的一大笔债.如果他安排的得当,这些债够他过好几年.好些在时髦场里混日子的人,靠着浑身背债,比手里有现钱的人过活得丰足一百倍.在伦敦街上走走的人,谁不能够随时指出五六个这样的人来?你得搬着脚走路,他们可是神气活现的骑着马.上流社会里的人个个趋奉他们,做买卖的哈着腰直送他们坐进马车才罢.他们从来不肯委屈自己,只有天知道他们靠什么活着.我们常看见贾克.脱力夫脱莱思骑着马在公园里�缠�,赶着马车横冲直撞的在潘尔莫尔大街上跑.我们也去吃他的饭,使他的精美无比的碗盏器皿,一面想:"这个势派当初是怎么撑起来的呢?以后怎么撑下去呢?"有一回我听见贾克说:"我的好人儿,在欧洲每个国家的京城里我都背着债."这种日子,当然迟早会完,可是眼前他照样过得快活,别的人也都愿意跟他拉手打招呼,说他脾气好,会享福,是个顾前不顾后的家伙.虽然常常听见对于他不利的风声,也只当不知道算了.     我不得不承认利蓓加的丈夫也是这一类的人物.在他家里,除了现钱之外,什么都不短.他们的小家庭里不久就因为手里拮据而觉得不方便.一天,罗登看见伦敦公报上有一项消息,说是"乔治.奥斯本已经捐得上尉的头衔,将和原应升级的史密斯对换职位",因此想着要会会爱米丽亚的情人,才到勒塞尔广场去走了一转.     在拍卖场里,罗登夫妇俩本来想找都宾上尉谈谈,打听利蓓加的老朋友们怎么会遭到这场横祸.可是上尉不知到哪里去了,他们只好去探问拍卖行的经纪人和来往的搬��,得到一些消息.     蓓基挟着画儿,兴冲冲的走进马车,一面说:"瞧这些人的鹰嘴鼻.他们相当于战场上吃死尸的老鹰."     "我不知道.我没打过仗,亲爱的.你该问马丁该尔,他在白莱潺斯将军手下当副官,在西班牙打过仗的."     利蓓加说:"赛特笠先生心肠很好,不知怎么会一脚走错.我真替他难过."     "哦,股票经纪人......破产......不奇怪,"罗登一面回答,一面把一个苍蝇从马耳朵上赶掉.     他的妻子做出怪重情义的样子说道:"罗登,可惜他们家的刀叉碗盏咱们买不起.那小钢琴卖到二十五基尼,真贵得岂有此理.爱米丽亚毕业那年我们一块儿到百老特乌德铺子里去挑的.全新的也不过三十五基尼."     "那家伙叫什么......奥斯本.我想这家子既然倒了楣,他大概要溜了.你那漂亮的小朋友岂不要伤心死呢,蓓基?啊?"     蓓基微微一笑,说道:"我想她过些日子就想开了."他们赶着车继续向前走,又谈到别的事情上去了.

CHAPTER XVIII Who Played on the Piano Captain Dobbin Bought Our surprised story now finds itself for a moment among very famous events and personages, and hanging on to the skirts of history. When the eagles of Napoleon Bonaparte, the Corsican upstart, were flying from Provence, where they had perched after a brief sojourn in Elba, and from steeple to steeple until they reached the towers of Notre Dame, I wonder whether the Imperial birds had any eye for a little corner of the parish of Bloomsbury, London, which you might have thought so quiet, that even the whirring and flapping of those mighty wings would pass unobserved there? "Napoleon has landed at Cannes." Such news might create a panic at Vienna, and cause Russia to drop his cards, and take Prussia into a corner, and Talleyrand and Metternich to wag their heads together, while Prince Hardenberg, and even the present Marquis of Londonderry, were puzzled; but how was this intelligence to affect a young lady in Russell Square, before whose door the watchman sang the hours when she was asleep: who, if she strolled in the square, was guarded there by the railings and the beadle: who, if she walked ever so short a distance to buy a ribbon in Southampton Row, was followed by Black Sambo with an enormous cane: who was always cared for, dressed, put to bed, and watched over by ever so many guardian angels, with and without wages? Bon Dieu, I say, is it not hard that the fateful rush of the great Imperial struggle can't take place without affecting a poor little harmless girl of eighteen, who is occupied in billing and cooing, or working muslin collars in Russell Square? You too, kindly, homely flower!--is the great roaring war tempest coming to sweep you down, here, although cowering under the shelter of Holborn? Yes; Napoleon is flinging his last stake, and poor little Emmy Sedley's happiness forms, somehow, part of it. In the first place, her father's fortune was swept down with that fatal news. All his speculations had of late gone wrong with the luckless old gentleman. Ventures had failed; merchants had broken; funds had risen when he calculated they would fall. What need to particularize? If success is rare and slow, everybody knows how quick and easy ruin is. Old Sedley had kept his own sad counsel. Everything seemed to go on as usual in the quiet, opulent house; the good-natured mistress pursuing, quite unsuspiciously, her bustling idleness, and daily easy avocations; the daughter absorbed still in one selfish, tender thought, and quite regardless of all the world besides, when that final crash came, under which the worthy family fell. One night Mrs. Sedley was writing cards for a party; the Osbornes had given one, and she must not be behindhand; John Sedley, who had come home very late from the City, sate silent at the chimney side, while his wife was prattling to him; Emmy had gone up to her room ailing and low-spirited. "She's not happy," the mother went on. "George Osborne neglects her. I've no patience with the airs of those people. The girls have not been in the house these three weeks; and George has been twice in town without coming. Edward Dale saw him at the Opera. Edward would marry her I'm sure: and there's Captain Dobbin who, I think, would--only I hate all army men. Such a dandy as George has become. With his military airs, indeed! We must show some folks that we're as good as they. Only give Edward Dale any encouragement, and you'll see. We must have a party, Mr. S. Why don't you speak, John? Shall I say Tuesday fortnight? Why don't you answer? Good God, John, what has happened?" John Sedley sprang up out of his chair to meet his wife, who ran to him. He seized her in his arms, and said with a hasty voice, "We're ruined, Mary. We've got the world to begin over again, dear. It's best that you should know all, and at once." As he spoke, he trembled in every limb, and almost fell. He thought the news would have overpowered his wife--his wife, to whom he had never said a hard word. But it was he that was the most moved, sudden as the shock was to her. When he sank back into his seat, it was the wife that took the office of consoler. She took his trembling hand, and kissed it, and put it round her neck: she called him her John--her dear John--her old man--her kind old man; she poured out a hundred words of incoherent love and tenderness; her faithful voice and simple caresses wrought this sad heart up to an inexpressible delight and anguish, and cheered and solaced his over-burdened soul. Only once in the course of the long night as they sate together, and poor Sedley opened his pent-up soul, and told the story of his losses and embarrassments--the treason of some of his oldest friends, the manly kindness of some, from whom he never could have expected it--in a general confession--only once did the faithful wife give way to emotion. "My God, my God, it will break Emmy's heart," she said. The father had forgotten the poor girl. She was lying, awake and unhappy, overhead. In the midst of friends, home, and kind parents, she was alone. To how many people can any one tell all? Who will be open where there is no sympathy, or has call to speak to those who never can understand? Our gentle Amelia was thus solitary. She had no confidante, so to speak, ever since she had anything to confide. She could not tell the old mother her doubts and cares; the would-be sisters seemed every day more strange to her. And she had misgivings and fears which she dared not acknowledge to herself, though she was always secretly brooding over them. Her heart tried to persist in asserting that George Osborne was worthy and faithful to her, though she knew otherwise. How many a thing had she said, and got no echo from him. How many suspicions of selfishness and indifference had she to encounter and obstinately overcome. To whom could the poor little martyr tell these daily struggles and tortures? Her hero himself only half understood her. She did not dare to own that the man she loved was her inferior; or to feel that she had given her heart away too soon. Given once, the pure bashful maiden was too modest, too tender, too trustful, too weak, too much woman to recall it. We are Turks with the affections of our women; and have made them subscribe to our doctrine too. We let their bodies go abroad liberally enough, with smiles and ringlets and pink bonnets to disguise them instead of veils and yakmaks. But their souls must be seen by only one man, and they obey not unwillingly, and consent to remain at home as our slaves-- ministering to us and doing drudgery for us. So imprisoned and tortured was this gentle little heart, when in the month of March, Anno Domini 1815, Napoleon landed at Cannes, and Louis XVIII fled, and all Europe was in alarm, and the funds fell, and old John Sedley was ruined. We are not going to follow the worthy old stockbroker through those last pangs and agonies of ruin through which he passed before his commercial demise befell. They declared him at the Stock Exchange; he was absent from his house of business: his bills were protested: his act of bankruptcy formal. The house and furniture of Russell Square were seized and sold up, and he and his family were thrust away, as we have seen, to hide their heads where they might. John Sedley had not the heart to review the domestic establishment who have appeared now and anon in our pages and of whom he was now forced by poverty to take leave. The wages of those worthy people were discharged with that punctuality which men frequently show who only owe in great sums--they were sorry to leave good places--but they did not break their hearts at parting from their adored master and mistress. Amelia's maid was profuse in condolences, but went off quite resigned to better herself in a genteeler quarter of the town. Black Sambo, with the infatuation of his profession, determined on setting up a public-house. Honest old Mrs. Blenkinsop indeed, who had seen the birth of Jos and Amelia, and the wooing of John Sedley and his wife, was for staying by them without wages, having amassed a considerable sum in their service: and she accompanied the fallen people into their new and humble place of refuge, where she tended them and grumbled against them for a while. Of all Sedley's opponents in his debates with his creditors which now ensued, and harassed the feelings of the humiliated old gentleman so severely, that in six weeks he oldened more than he had done for fifteen years before--the most determined and obstinate seemed to be John Osborne, his old friend and neighbour--John Osborne, whom he had set up in life--who was under a hundred obligations to him--and whose son was to marry Sedley's daughter. Any one of these circumstances would account for the bitterness of Osborne's opposition. When one man has been under very remarkable obligations to another, with whom he subsequently quarrels, a common sense of decency, as it were, makes of the former a much severer enemy than a mere stranger would be. To account for your own hard-heartedness and ingratitude in such a case, you are bound to prove the other party's crime. It is not that you are selfish, brutal, and angry at the failure of a speculation--no, no--it is that your partner has led you into it by the basest treachery and with the most sinister motives. From a mere sense of consistency, a persecutor is bound to show that the fallen man is a villain--otherwise he, the persecutor, is a wretch himself. And as a general rule, which may make all creditors who are inclined to be severe pretty comfortable in their minds, no men embarrassed are altogether honest, very likely. They conceal something; they exaggerate chances of good luck; hide away the real state of affairs; say that things are flourishing when they are hopeless, keep a smiling face (a dreary smile it is) upon the verge of bankruptcy--are ready to lay hold of any pretext for delay or of any money, so as to stave off the inevitable ruin a few days longer. "Down with such dishonesty," says the creditor in triumph, and reviles his sinking enemy. "You fool, why do you catch at a straw?" calm good sense says to the man that is drowning. "You villain, why do you shrink from plunging into the irretrievable Gazette?" says prosperity to the poor devil battling in that black gulf. Who has not remarked the readiness with which the closest of friends and honestest of men suspect and accuse each other of cheating when they fall out on money matters? Everybody does it. Everybody is right, I suppose, and the world is a rogue. Then Osborne had the intolerable sense of former benefits to goad and irritate him: these are always a cause of hostility aggravated. Finally, he had to break off the match between Sedley's daughter and his son; and as it had gone very far indeed, and as the poor girl's happiness and perhaps character were compromised, it was necessary to show the strongest reasons for the rupture, and for John Osborne to prove John Sedley to be a very bad character indeed. At the meetings of creditors, then, he comported himself with a savageness and scorn towards Sedley, which almost succeeded in breaking the heart of that ruined bankrupt man. On George's intercourse with Amelia he put an instant veto--menacing the youth with maledictions if he broke his commands, and vilipending the poor innocent girl as the basest and most artful of vixens. One of the great conditions of anger and hatred is, that you must tell and believe lies against the hated object, in order, as we said, to be consistent. When the great crash came--the announcement of ruin, and the departure from Russell Square, and the declaration that all was over between her and George--all over between her and love, her and happiness, her and faith in the world--a brutal letter from John Osborne told her in a few curt lines that her father's conduct had been of such a nature that all engagements between the families were at an end--when the final award came, it did not shock her so much as her parents, as her mother rather expected (for John Sedley himself was entirely prostrate in the ruins of his own affairs and shattered honour). Amelia took the news very palely and calmly. It was only the confirmation of the dark presages which had long gone before. It was the mere reading of the sentence--of the crime she had long ago been guilty--the crime of loving wrongly, too violently, against reason. She told no more of her thoughts now than she had before. She seemed scarcely more unhappy now when convinced all hope was over, than before when she felt but dared not confess that it was gone. So she changed from the large house to the small one without any mark or difference; remained in her little room for the most part; pined silently; and died away day by day. I do not mean to say that all females are so. My dear Miss Bullock, I do not think your heart would break in this way. You are a strong-minded young woman with proper principles. I do not venture to say that mine would; it has suffered, and, it must be confessed, survived. But there are some souls thus gently constituted, thus frail, and delicate, and tender. Whenever old John Sedley thought of the affair between George and Amelia, or alluded to it, it was with bitterness almost as great as Mr. Osborne himself had shown. He cursed Osborne and his family as heartless, wicked, and ungrateful. No power on earth, he swore, would induce him to marry his daughter to the son of such a villain, and he ordered Emmy to banish George from her mind, and to return all the presents and letters which she had ever had from him. She promised acquiescence, and tried to obey. She put up the two or three trinkets: and, as for the letters, she drew them out of the place where she kept them; and read them over--as if she did not know them by heart already: but she could not part with them. That effort was too much for her; she placed them back in her bosom again--as you have seen a woman nurse a child that is dead. Young Amelia felt that she would die or lose her senses outright, if torn away from this last consolation. How she used to blush and lighten up when those letters came! How she used to trip away with a beating heart, so that she might read unseen! If they were cold, yet how perversely this fond little soul interpreted them into warmth. If they were short or selfish, what excuses she found for the writer! It was over these few worthless papers that she brooded and brooded. She lived in her past life--every letter seemed to recall some circumstance of it. How well she remembered them all! His looks and tones, his dress, what he said and how--these relics and remembrances of dead affection were all that were left her in the world. And the business of her life, was--to watch the corpse of Love. To death she looked with inexpressible longing. Then, she thought, I shall always be able to follow him. I am not praising her conduct or setting her up as a model for Miss Bullock to imitate. Miss B. knows how to regulate her feelings better than this poor little creature. Miss B. would never have committed herself as that imprudent Amelia had done; pledged her love irretrievably; confessed her heart away, and got back nothing--only a brittle promise which was snapt and worthless in a moment. A long engagement is a partnership which one party is free to keep or to break, but which involves all the capital of the other. Be cautious then, young ladies; be wary how you engage. Be shy of loving frankly; never tell all you feel, or (a better way still), feel very little. See the consequences of being prematurely honest and confiding, and mistrust yourselves and everybody. Get yourselves married as they do in France, where the lawyers are the bridesmaids and confidantes. At any rate, never have any feelings which may make you uncomfortable, or make any promises which you cannot at any required moment command and withdraw. That is the way to get on, and be respected, and have a virtuous character in Vanity Fair. If Amelia could have heard the comments regarding her which were made in the circle from which her father's ruin had just driven her, she would have seen what her own crimes were, and how entirely her character was jeopardised. Such criminal imprudence Mrs. Smith never knew of; such horrid familiarities Mrs. Brown had always condemned, and the end might be a warning to HER daughters. "Captain Osborne, of course, could not marry a bankrupt's daughter," the Misses Dobbin said. "It was quite enough to have been swindled by the father. As for that little Amelia, her folly had really passed all--" "All what?" Captain Dobbin roared out. "Haven't they been engaged ever since they were children? Wasn't it as good as a marriage? Dare any soul on earth breathe a word against the sweetest, the purest, the tenderest, the most angelical of young women?" "La, William, don't be so highty-tighty with US. We're not men. We can't fight you," Miss Jane said. "We've said nothing against Miss Sedley: but that her conduct throughout was MOST IMPRUDENT, not to call it by any worse name; and that her parents are people who certainly merit their misfortunes." "Hadn't you better, now that Miss Sedley is free, propose for her yourself, William?" Miss Ann asked sarcastically. "It would be a most eligible family connection. He! he!" "I marry her!" Dobbin said, blushing very much, and talking quick. "If you are so ready, young ladies, to chop and change, do you suppose that she is? Laugh and sneer at that angel. She can't hear it; and she's miserable and unfortunate, and deserves to be laughed at. Go on joking, Ann. You're the wit of the family, and the others like to hear it." "I must tell you again we're not in a barrack, William," Miss Ann remarked. "In a barrack, by Jove--I wish anybody in a barrack would say what you do," cried out this uproused British lion. "I should like to hear a man breathe a word against her, by Jupiter. But men don't talk in this way, Ann: it's only women, who get together and hiss, and shriek, and cackle. There, get away--don't begin to cry. I only said you were a couple of geese," Will Dobbin said, perceiving Miss Ann's pink eyes were beginning to moisten as usual. "Well, you're not geese, you're swans--anything you like, only do, do leave Miss Sedley alone." Anything like William's infatuation about that silly little flirting, ogling thing was never known, the mamma and sisters agreed together in thinking: and they trembled lest, her engagement being off with Osborne, she should take up immediately her other admirer and Captain. In which forebodings these worthy young women no doubt judged according to the best of their experience; or rather (for as yet they had had no opportunities of marrying or of jilting) according to their own notions of right and wrong. "It is a mercy, Mamma, that the regiment is ordered abroad," the girls said. "THIS danger, at any rate, is spared our brother." Such, indeed, was the fact; and so it is that the French Emperor comes in to perform a part in this domestic comedy of Vanity Fair which we are now playing, and which would never have been enacted without the intervention of this august mute personage. It was he that ruined the Bourbons and Mr. John Sedley. It was he whose arrival in his capital called up all France in arms to defend him there; and all Europe to oust him. While the French nation and army were swearing fidelity round the eagles in the Champ de Mars, four mighty European hosts were getting in motion for the great chasse a l'aigle; and one of these was a British army, of which two heroes of ours, Captain Dobbin and Captain Osborne, formed a portion. The news of Napoleon's escape and landing was received by the gallant --th with a fiery delight and enthusiasm, which everybody can understand who knows that famous corps. From the colonel to the smallest drummer in the regiment, all were filled with hope and ambition and patriotic fury; and thanked the French Emperor as for a personal kindness in coming to disturb the peace of Europe. Now was the time the --th had so long panted for, to show their comrades in arms that they could fight as well as the Peninsular veterans, and that all the pluck and valour of the --th had not been killed by the West Indies and the yellow fever. Stubble and Spooney looked to get their companies without purchase. Before the end of the campaign (which she resolved to share), Mrs. Major O'Dowd hoped to write herself Mrs. Colonel O'Dowd, C.B. Our two friends (Dobbin and Osborne) were quite as much excited as the rest: and each in his way--Mr. Dobbin very quietly, Mr. Osborne very loudly and energetically--was bent upon doing his duty, and gaining his share of honour and distinction. The agitation thrilling through the country and army in consequence of this news was so great, that private matters were little heeded: and hence probably George Osborne, just gazetted to his company, busy with preparations for the march, which must come inevitably, and panting for further promotion--was not so much affected by other incidents which would have interested him at a more quiet period. He was not, it must be confessed, very much cast down by good old Mr. Sedley's catastrophe. He tried his new uniform, which became him very handsomely, on the day when the first meeting of the creditors of the unfortunate gentleman took place. His father told him of the wicked, rascally, shameful conduct of the bankrupt, reminded him of what he had said about Amelia, and that their connection was broken off for ever; and gave him that evening a good sum of money to pay for the new clothes and epaulets in which he looked so well. Money was always useful to this free-handed young fellow, and he took it without many words. The bills were up in the Sedley house, where he had passed so many, many happy hours. He could see them as he walked from home that night (to the Old Slaughters', where he put up when in town) shining white in the moon. That comfortable home was shut, then, upon Amelia and her parents: where had they taken refuge? The thought of their ruin affected him not a little. He was very melancholy that night in the coffee-room at the Slaughters'; and drank a good deal, as his comrades remarked there. Dobbin came in presently, cautioned him about the drink, which he only took, he said, because he was deuced low; but when his friend began to put to him clumsy inquiries, and asked him for news in a significant manner, Osborne declined entering into conversation with him, avowing, however, that he was devilish disturbed and unhappy. Three days afterwards, Dobbin found Osborne in his room at the barracks--his head on the table, a number of papers about, the young Captain evidently in a state of great despondency. "She--she's sent me back some things I gave her--some damned trinkets. Look here!" There was a little packet directed in the well-known hand to Captain George Osborne, and some things lying about--a ring, a silver knife he had bought, as a boy, for her at a fair; a gold chain, and a locket with hair in it. "It's all over," said he, with a groan of sickening remorse. "Look, Will, you may read it if you like." There was a little letter of a few lines, to which he pointed, which said: My papa has ordered me to return to you these presents, which you made in happier days to me; and I am to write to you for the last time. I think, I know you feel as much as I do the blow which has come upon us. It is I that absolve you from an engagement which is impossible in our present misery. I am sure you had no share in it, or in the cruel suspicions of Mr. Osborne, which are the hardest of all our griefs to bear. Farewell. Farewell. I pray God to strengthen me to bear this and other calamities, and to bless you always. A. I shall often play upon the piano--your piano. It was like you to send it. Dobbin was very soft-hearted. The sight of women and children in pain always used to melt him. The idea of Amelia broken-hearted and lonely tore that good-natured soul with anguish. And he broke out into an emotion, which anybody who likes may consider unmanly. He swore that Amelia was an angel, to which Osborne said aye with all his heart. He, too, had been reviewing the history of their lives-- and had seen her from her childhood to her present age, so sweet, so innocent, so charmingly simple, and artlessly fond and tender. What a pang it was to lose all that: to have had it and not prized it! A thousand homely scenes and recollections crowded on him--in which he always saw her good and beautiful. And for himself, he blushed with remorse and shame, as the remembrance of his own selfishness and indifference contrasted with that perfect purity. For a while, glory, war, everything was forgotten, and the pair of friends talked about her only. "Where are they?" Osborne asked, after a long talk, and a long pause--and, in truth, with no little shame at thinking that he had taken no steps to follow her. "Where are they? There's no address to the note." Dobbin knew. He had not merely sent the piano; but had written a note to Mrs. Sedley, and asked permission to come and see her--and he had seen her, and Amelia too, yesterday, before he came down to Chatham; and, what is more, he had brought that farewell letter and packet which had so moved them. The good-natured fellow had found Mrs. Sedley only too willing to receive him, and greatly agitated by the arrival of the piano, which, as she conjectured, MUST have come from George, and was a signal of amity on his part. Captain Dobbin did not correct this error of the worthy lady, but listened to all her story of complaints and misfortunes with great sympathy--condoled with her losses and privations, and agreed in reprehending the cruel conduct of Mr. Osborne towards his first benefactor. When she had eased her overflowing bosom somewhat, and poured forth many of her sorrows, he had the courage to ask actually to see Amelia, who was above in her room as usual, and whom her mother led trembling downstairs. Her appearance was so ghastly, and her look of despair so pathetic, that honest William Dobbin was frightened as he beheld it; and read the most fatal forebodings in that pale fixed face. After sitting in his company a minute or two, she put the packet into his hand, and said, "Take this to Captain Osborne, if you please, and--and I hope he's quite well--and it was very kind of you to come and see us--and we like our new house very much. And I--I think I'll go upstairs, Mamma, for I'm not very strong." And with this, and a curtsey and a smile, the poor child went her way. The mother, as she led her up, cast back looks of anguish towards Dobbin. The good fellow wanted no such appeal. He loved her himself too fondly for that. Inexpressible grief, and pity, and terror pursued him, and he came away as if he was a criminal after seeing her. When Osborne heard that his friend had found her, he made hot and anxious inquiries regarding the poor child. How was she? How did she look? What did she say? His comrade took his hand, and looked him in the face. "George, she's dying," William Dobbin said--and could speak no more. There was a buxom Irish servant-girl, who performed all the duties of the little house where the Sedley family had found refuge: and this girl had in vain, on many previous days, striven to give Amelia aid or consolation. Emmy was much too sad to answer, or even to be aware of the attempts the other was making in her favour. Four hours after the talk between Dobbin and Osborne, this servant- maid came into Amelia's room, where she sate as usual, brooding silently over her letters--her little treasures. The girl, smiling, and looking arch and happy, made many trials to attract poor Emmy's attention, who, however, took no heed of her. "Miss Emmy," said the girl. "I'm coming," Emmy said, not looking round. "There's a message," the maid went on. "There's something-- somebody--sure, here's a new letter for you--don't be reading them old ones any more." And she gave her a letter, which Emmy took, and read. "I must see you," the letter said. "Dearest Emmy--dearest love-- dearest wife, come to me." George and her mother were outside, waiting until she had read the letter. 第 十 八 章    谁弹都宾上尉的钢琴呢     不知怎么一来,我的故事仿佛钩住了历史的边缘,说到有名的事和有名的人身上去了.且说拿破仑.波那巴那一朝发迹的科西嘉小子.他的一群老鹰在爱尔巴岛上停留了一下之后(１８１４年拿破仑被逼退位,隐居到爱尔巴岛上去,１８１５年回到法国重整军队,企图恢复旧日的势力.),又从浦劳房思向外飞翔了.它们越过一座座城市里的教堂尖顶,一直飞到巴黎圣母堂的钟楼上停下来(拿破仑复位后宣言中曾经说过他的老鹰飞过一个个钟楼,直到巴黎圣母堂停下来.).这些御鹰飞过伦敦的时候,不知可曾注意到勃鲁姆斯白莱教区的一个小角落.这是个非常偏僻的去处,这些鸟儿鼓着巨大的翅膀呼呼的在空中飞过去,看来那儿的居民也未必留心.     "拿破仑在加恩登陆了!"听见这种消息,维也纳也许会惊慌,俄罗斯也许会丢下手里的纸牌,拉着普鲁士在角落里谈机密.泰里朗(泰里朗(Ｔａｌｌｅｙｒａｎｄ,１７５４—１８３８),法国政治家.)和梅特涅(梅特涅(Ｍｅｔｔｅｒｎｉｃｈ,１７７３—１８５９),奥地利首相.)会摇头叹息,哈顿堡亲王(哈顿堡亲王(Ｐｒｉｎｃｅ　Ｈａｒｄｅｎｂｅｒｇ,１７５０—１８２２),普鲁士政客.),甚至于咱们的伦顿台莱侯爵(伦顿台莱侯爵(Ｍａｒｑｕｉｓ　ｏｆ　Ｌｏｎｄｏｎｄｅｒｒｙ,１７３９—１８２１),大家称他Ｌｏｒｄ　Ｃａｓｔｌｅｒｅａｇｈ,威灵顿公爵的后台,助他策划打倒拿破仑.),都会觉得为难.可是对于勒塞尔广场的一个小姑娘,这消息可有什么关系呢?她在屋里睡觉,大门外有守夜的报时辰;她在广场上散步,外面有栅栏围着,又有附近的巡警保护着;她走出大门到附近的沙乌撒浦顿大街上去买根缎带,黑三菩还拿着大棍子跟在后面.她随时有人照应,穿衣睡觉,都不用自己操心,身边的护身神,拿工钱的,不拿工钱的,实在多得很.她这么一个可怜的小女孩子,年纪才十八岁,又没有妨碍着别人的地方,只会在勒塞尔广场谈情说爱,绣绣纱领子而已,欧洲的大国争夺土地,大军横扫过境,酿成惨祸,偏偏的牵累到她头上,不也太气人了吗?温柔平凡的小花啊!虽然你躲在荷尔邦受到保护,猛烈的腥风血雨吹来的时候,仍旧要被摧残的.拿破仑孤注一掷,和命运赌赛,恰恰的影响了可怜的小爱米的幸福.     第一,坏消息一到,她父亲的财产全部一卷而空.老先生走了背运,近来的买卖没一样不亏本......投机失败了,来往的商人破产了,他估计着该跌价的公债却上涨了.何必絮烦呢,谁也知道,要成功发迹何等烦难,不是一朝一日的事,倾家却方便得很,转眼间产业就闹光了.可怜赛特笠老头儿什么都藏在心里不说.富丽的宅子里静荡荡的一切照常.脾气随和的女主人整天无事忙,做她分内不费力的事,对于这件大祸连影子都摸不着.女儿呢,情思缠绵的,心中意中只有一个自私的想头,对于世事一概不闻不问.谁也没有料到最后的大灾难会使他们好好的一家从此倾家荡产.     一天晚上,赛特笠太太正在填写请客帖子.奥斯本家已经请过一次客,她当然不甘心落在人后头.约翰.赛特笠很晚才从市中心回来,在壁炉旁边一声不响的坐着,任他太太说闲话.爱米因为身上不快,无精打采的回房去了.她的母亲说道:"她心里不快活着呢.乔治.奥斯本一点儿不把她放在心上.那些人拿腔作势的,我真瞧不上眼.她们家的女孩子已经三个星期没有过这边来了.乔治进城两回,也不来.爱德华.台尔在歌剧院里瞧见他的.我想爱德华很想娶爱米.还有都宾上尉,他也......不过我真讨厌军人.乔治现在可真变了个纨�谧拥芰�.他那军人的架子真受不了.让他们瞧瞧吧,咱们哪一点儿不如他们呢!咱们只要拿出点儿好颜色给爱德华.台尔,他准愿意,瞧着吧!赛特笠先生,咱们无论如何得请客了.你怎么不说话,约翰?再过两星期,到星期二请客,怎么样?你为什么不回答?天哪,约翰,出了什么事了?"     约翰.赛特笠见他太太向他冲过来,跳起身一把抱着她,急急的说道:"玛丽,咱们毁了.咱们又得从头做起了,亲爱的.还是马上把什么话都告诉你吧."他说话的时候,四肢发抖,差点儿栽倒在地上.他以为妻子一定受不住这打击,他自己一辈子没对她说过一句逆耳的话,现在叫她如何受得了呢?吓人的消息来得虽然突兀,赛特笠太太倒不如她丈夫那么激动.老头儿倒在椅子里,反是她去安慰他.她拉着丈夫颤抖的手,吻着它,把它勾着自己的脖子.她叫他"我的约翰......我亲爱的约翰......我的老头儿......我的好心的老头儿",她断断续续的对他说出千百句温存体贴的话.她的声音里表达出她的忠心,再加上她的真诚的抚慰,鼓舞了他,解了他的忧闷,使他饱受愁苦的心里感觉到说不出的快乐和凄惨.     他们肩并肩整整坐了一夜,可怜的赛特笠把郁结在心里的话都倾倒出来.他如何遭到损失和一重重的困难,他引为知己的人怎么出卖他,有些交情平常的人又怎么出乎意外的慷慨仁慈,他都从头至尾的诉说了一遍.忠心的妻子静静听着他说话,只有一回,她按捺不住自己的感情,说道:"天哪,天哪!爱米岂不要伤心死呢!"     做父亲的忘了可怜的女儿.她心里不快活,躺在楼上睡不着.她虽然有家,有朋友,有疼爱她的爹娘,可是仍旧觉得寂寞.本来,值得你倾心相待的人能有几个?人家不同情你,不懂你的心事,你怎么能对他们推心置腹呢?为这个原故,温柔的爱米丽亚非常孤单.我竟可以说,自从她有了心事以后,从来没有碰见一个可以谈心的人.她发愁,不放心,可又不好把这话说给母亲听.未来的大姑小姑行出来的事一天比一天不可捉摸.她满心牵挂焦急,虽然老是闷闷不乐,却不肯对自己承认.     她咬紧牙关骗自己说乔治.奥斯本是个忠诚的君子,虽然心里很明白这是诳话.她对他说了多少话,他连回答都没有.她常常疑心他自私自利,而且对自己漠不关心,可是几次三番硬着头皮按捺下这种心思.可怜这甘心殉情的女孩子不断的受折磨,天天捱着苦楚,又没人可以说句知心贴己的话.连她心目中的英雄也不完全懂得她.她不肯承认她的爱人不如她,也不肯承认自己一下子掏出心来给了乔治,未免太孟浪.这洁白无瑕的.怕羞的姑娘太自谦,太忠诚,太温柔软弱,是个地道的女人,既然把心交给了爱人,不肯再把它要回来.对于女人的感情,我们的看法和土耳其人差不多,而且还勉强女人们恪遵我们立下的规矩.表面上,我们不像土耳其人那样叫她们戴上面纱面网,而让她们把头发梳成一个个卷儿,戴上粉红帽子,笑眯眯自由自在的到处行走,底子里却觉得女人的心事只准向一个男人吐露.做女人的也甘心当奴隶,情愿躲在家里做苦工伺候男人.     这温柔的小女孩子感觉到烦恼和苦闷.那时正是公元一千八百十五年的三月里,拿破仑在加恩登陆,路易十八仓卒逃难,整个欧洲人心惶惶,公债跌了价,约翰.赛特笠老头儿从此倾家荡产.     这贤明的老先生,这股票经纪人,在商业上大失败之前的各种惨痛的经验,我不准备细说.证券交易所公布了他的经济情况,他不再到营业所去办公,持有票据的债权人也由律师代表提出了抗议.这样,他就算正式破产了.勒塞尔广场的房屋家具都被没收拍卖,他和他家里的人也给赶出去另找安身之地.这些在上面已经说过.     约翰.赛特笠家里本来有好些佣人,在前面我们曾经不时的提起;现在家里一穷,只得把这些人一一辞退.事到如今,赛特笠委实没有心情亲自去发放他们.这些家伙的工钱倒是按时付给的;在大处欠债的人,往往在小地方非常守规矩.佣人们丢掉这样的好饭碗,觉得很可惜,他们和主人主母一向感情融洽,可是临走倒并没有怎么割舍不开.爱米丽亚的贴身佣人满口同情的话儿,到了这步田地,也无可奈何了,离开这里到比较高尚的地段另外找事.黑三菩和他同行中的人一样,心心念念想开个酒店,因此主意早已打定.忠厚的白兰金索泊当年曾经眼看着约翰.赛特笠和他太太恋爱结婚,后来又看着乔斯和爱米丽亚相继出世.她跟了这家子多少年,手里攒积得不少了,所以愿意不拿工钱跟着他们.她随着倒运的主人来到寒素的新居安身,一面伺候他们,一面咕咕唧唧抱怨着,过了一阵子才走.     接着,赛特笠和所有的债主会谈,老头儿本来已经无地自容,经过多少对手和他争论,更使他焦头烂额,一个半月来老了一大截,竟比十五年里面老的还快.所有的对手里面,最强硬最不放松的便是约翰.奥斯本.奥斯本是他的街坊,他的老朋友,从前由他一手栽培起来,受过他不知多少好处,而且又是未来的儿女亲家.奥斯本为什么要这么狠心呢?上面所说的无论哪条原因都足以使他反对赛特笠.     如果一个人身受大恩而后来又和恩人反面的话,他要顾全自己的体面,一定比不相干的陌路人更加恶毒.他要证实对方的罪过,才能解释自己的无情无义.他要让人知道他自己并不自私,并不狠心,并没有因为投机失败而气恼,而是合伙的人存心阴险,用卑鄙的手段坑了他.加害于人的家伙惟恐别人说他出而反而,只得证明失败者是个恶棍,要不然他自己岂不成了个混帐东西了吗?     大凡一个人弄到后手不接的时候,总免不了有些不老实的行为,严厉的债主们这么一想,心上便没有什么过不去了.倒了楣的人往往遮遮掩掩,把实在情形隐瞒起来,只夸大未来的好运气.他明明一点办法都没有,偏要假装买卖顺利,破产之前还装着笑脸(好凄惨的笑脸啊!),见钱就攫,该人家的账却赖掉不付,想法子挡着避免不了的灾祸,能拖延几天就是几天.债主们得意洋洋的痛骂已经失败的冤家道:"打倒这样不老实的行为!"常识丰富的人从从容容的对快要淹死的人说:"你这傻瓜!抓住一根草当得了什么用?"一帆风顺的大老官对那正在掉在深坑里挣扎的可怜虫说:"你这混蛋,你的情形早晚得在公报上登出来,你为什么还要躲躲闪闪捱着不肯说?"最亲密的朋友,最诚实的君子,只要在银钱交易上有了出入,马上互相猜忌,责怪对方欺蒙了自己,这种情形普遍得很,竟可以说人人都是这样的.我想谁也没有错,只是咱们这世界不行.     奥斯本想起从前曾经受过赛特笠的恩惠,心里分外恼恨,再也忍不下这口气.以前的恩惠,本来是加深怨仇的原由.再说他还得解除他儿子和赛特笠女儿两人的婚约.他们两家在这方面早已有了谅解,这么一来,可怜的女孩儿不但终身的幸福不能保全,连名誉也要受到牵累.因此约翰.奥斯本更得使旁人明白婚约是非解除不可的,约翰.赛特笠是不可饶恕的.     债权人会谈的时候,他对赛特笠的态度又狠毒又轻蔑.把那身败名裂的人气个半死.奥斯本立刻禁止乔治和爱米丽亚往来,一方面威吓儿子,说是如果他不服从命令,便要遭到父亲的咒骂,一方面狠狠的诋毁爱米丽亚,仿佛那天真的小可怜儿是个最下流最会耍手段的狐狸精.如果你要保持对于仇人的忿恨不让它泄气,那么你不但得造出许多谣言中伤他,而且自己也得相信这些谣言.我已经说过,只有这个法子可以使你的行为不显得前后矛盾.     大祸临头了,父亲宣告破产,全家搬出勒塞尔广场,爱米丽亚知道自己和乔治的关系斩断了,她和爱情.和幸福已经无缘,对于这世界也失去了信念.正在这时候,约翰.奥斯本寄给她一封措词恶毒的信,里面短短几行,说是她父亲行为恶劣到这步田地,两家之间的婚约当然应该取消.最后的判决下来的时候,她并不怎么惊骇,倒是她爹妈料不到的......我该说是她妈妈意料不到的,因为约翰.赛特笠那时候事业失败,名誉扫地,自己都弄得精疲力尽了.爱米丽亚得信的时候,颜色苍白,样子倒很镇静.那一阵子她早已有过许多不吉利的预兆,如今不过坐实一下.最后的判决虽然现在刚批下来,她的罪过是老早就犯下的了.总之,她不该爱错了人,不该爱得那么热烈,不该让情感淹没了理智.她还像本来一样,把一切都藏在心里不说.从前她虽然知道事情不妙,却不肯明白承认,现在索性断绝了想头,倒也不见得比以前更痛苦.她从大房子搬到小房子,根本没有觉得有什么分别.大半的时候她都闷在自己的小房间里默默的伤心,一天天的憔悴下去.我并不是说所有的女人都像爱米丽亚这样.亲爱的勃洛葛小姐,我想你就不像她那么容易心碎.你是个性格刚强的女孩子,有一套正确的见解.我呢,也不敢说像她那样容易心碎.说句老实话,虽然我经历过一番伤心事,过后也就慢慢的忘怀了.不过话又说回来,有些人天生成温柔的心肠,的确比别人更娇嫩,更脆弱,更禁不起风波.     约翰.赛特笠老头儿一想起或是一提起乔治和爱米丽亚的婚事,心里口里的怨恨竟和奥斯本先生也不差着什么.他咒骂奥斯本和他家里的人,说他们全是没心肝没天良的坏蛋.他赌神罚誓的说无论如何不把女儿嫁给那种混帐东西的儿子.他命令爱米丽亚从此不许再想念乔治,叫她把乔治写给她的信和送给她的礼物都退回去.     她答应了,努力照她爸爸说的话做去,把那两三件小首饰收拾在一块儿,又把珍藏的信札拿出来重新看过一遍,其实信上的句子她早就能够背诵.她看完以后,十分割舍不下,说什么也不肯把它们丢过一边,又收起来藏在胸口,仿佛做母亲的抱着已经死了的孩子不放手,这情形想来你一定见过.年轻的爱米丽亚觉得这是她最后的安慰,如果给人夺去,她一定活不成,或者马上会急得发疯.信来的时候,她高兴得脸上放光,发红,心里别别乱跳,快快的溜到没人的地方独自一个人看信.如果信上的句子冰冷无情,这痴心的女孩子故意把它们曲解成充满热忱的情话.如果来信写的又短又自私,她也会找出种种的借口原谅那写信的人.     她整天对着这几张毫无价值的纸片闷闷的发怔.每封信都带给她一点回忆,她就靠过去活着.从前的情景还清清楚楚的在她眼前.他的面貌.声音.衣著,他说过些什么话,他怎么样说这些话,她都记得.在整个世界上,剩下的只有这些神圣的纪念和死去的感情留下的回想.她的本分,就是一辈子守着爱情的尸骸一直到自己死去为止.     她渴望自己快快的一死完事.她想:"死了以后我就能够到东到西的跟着他了."我并不赞成她的行为,也不希望勃洛葛小姐当她模范,行动学着她.勃洛葛小姐知道怎么节制自己的感情,比那小可怜儿强得多.爱米丽亚太糊涂了;她对乔治山盟海誓,把自己一颗心献了出去,已经不能退步回身,换回来的却不过是一句作不得准的约诺,一刹那间就能成为毫无价值的空话.勃洛葛小姐决不会上这样的当.长期的订婚好像两个人合股做买卖,一方面倾其所有投资经商,另一方面却自由自在,守信由他,背约也由他.     小姐们,留心点儿吧!订婚以前好好的考虑考虑,恋爱的时候不要过于率直,别把心里的话都倒出来,最好还是不要多动感情.你们看,不到时机成熟就对别人倾心诉胆是没有好结果的,所以对人对己都要存一分戒心才好.在法国,婚姻全由律师们包办,他们就是傧相,就是新娘的心腹朋友.你们如果结婚,最好还是按照法国的规矩,至少也得提防着,凡是能叫自己难受的情感,一概压下去,凡是不能随时变更或是收回的约诺,一概不出口.要在这名利场上成功发迹,得好名声,受人尊敬,就非这样不可.     自从她父亲破产之后,爱米丽亚便没有资格再和从前的熟人来往了.假如她听见这些人批评她的话,就会明白自己犯了什么罪,也会知道自己的名誉受到怎样的糟蹋.斯密士太太说,这样不顾前后的行为,简直是一种罪过,她一辈子没有见过.白朗恩太太说,爱米丽亚那么不避嫌疑,真叫人恶心,她向来看不上眼;这次爱米丽亚这样下场,对于她自己的几个女儿倒是个教训.两位都宾小姐说:"她家里已经破产,奥斯本上尉当然不会要娶这种人家的女孩儿.上了她父亲的当还不够吗?提起爱米丽亚,她的糊涂真叫人......"     都宾上尉大声喝道:"叫人什么?他们两个不是从小就订婚的吗?还不等于结了婚一样吗?爱米丽亚是天使一般的女孩子,比谁都可疼,比谁都纯洁温柔.谁敢说她不好?"     琴恩小姐说道:"嗳,威廉,别那么气势汹汹的.我们又不是男人,谁打得过你呀?我们根本没说赛特笠小姐什么,不过批评她太不小心,其实再说利害点儿也容易.还有就是说她的爹妈遭到这样的事也是自作自受."     安痕小姐尖酸的说道:"威廉,现在赛特笠小姐没了主儿了.你何不向她求婚去呢?这门亲戚可不错呀!嘻,嘻!"     都宾满面通红,急忙回答道:"我娶她!小姐,你们自己没有长心,别打量她也这么容易变心.你们讥笑那天使吧,反正她听不见.她倒了楣了,走了背运了,当然应该给人笑骂.说下去呀,安痕!你在家里是有名口角俏皮的,大家都爱听你说话呢!"     安痕小姐答道:"我再说一遍,咱们这儿可不是军营,威廉."     那勇猛的英国人给人惹得性子上来,嚷嚷道:"军营!我倒愿意听听军营里的人也说这些话.看谁敢嚼说她一句坏话.告诉你吧,安痕,男人不是这样的.只有你们才喜欢在一块儿嘁嘁喳喳.咭咭呱呱.大呼小叫的.走吧,走吧,又哭什么呢?我不过说你们两个是一对呆鸟."威廉.都宾看见安痕的眼睛红红的,又像平常一般眼泪汪汪起来,忙说:"得了,你们不是呆鸟,是天鹅.随你们算什么吧,只要你们别惹赛特笠小姐."     威廉的妈妈和妹妹们都觉得他对那卖风流送秋波的无聊女人那么着迷,真叫人纳闷.她们着急得很,威廉对她那么倾倒,她和奥斯本解约之后,会不会接下去马上又和威廉好上了呢?这些高尚的女孩子大概是按照自己的经验来测度爱米丽亚,所以觉得情形不对.或者说得确切一点,她们准是拿自己的是非标准来衡量别人,因为到眼前为止,她们还没有机会结婚,也没有机会挑一个扔一个的,谈不上经验不经验的话.     那两个女孩儿说道:"妈妈,亏得军队要调到国外去了.无论如何,这一关,哥哥总算躲过了."     她们说的不错.我们现在演的是名利场上的家庭趣剧,那法国皇帝在里面也串演了一个角色.这位大人物虽然没有开口说话,可是如果没有他插进来,这出戏就演不成了.他推翻了波朋王朝,毁了约翰.赛特笠的前途.他来到法国的首都,鼓动法国人民武装起来保卫他,同时也惊起了全欧洲的国家,大家都想撵他出去.当法国的军队和全国百姓在香特马斯围绕着法国之鹰宣誓永效忠诚的时候,欧洲四大军队也开始行动,准备大开围场,追逐这只大老鹰.英国的军队是四支欧洲军之一,咱们的两个男主角,都宾上尉和奥斯本上尉也在军中.     勇猛的第......联队得到拿破仑脱逃上岸的消息之后,他们兴高采烈,那份儿热忱真是火辣辣的.凡是深知这有名的联队的人,都能懂得他们的心情.从上校到最小的鼓手,个个满怀壮志雄心,热诚地愿意为国效劳.他们感激法国皇帝,仿佛他扰乱欧洲的和平就是给了他们莫大的恩惠.第......联队一向翘首盼望的日子总算到了.这一下,可以给同行开开眼,让他们知道第......联队和一向在西班牙打仗的老军人一样耐战,他们的勇气还没有给西印度群岛和黄热病消耗尽呢.斯德博尔和斯卜内希望不必花钱就能升为连长.奥多少佐的太太决定随着军队一起出发,她希望在战争结束之前,能把自己的签名改成奥多上校太太,也希望丈夫得个下级骑士的封号.咱们的两个朋友,奥斯本和都宾,也和其余的人一般兴奋,决定尽自己的责任,显声扬名,建立功勋.不过外表看来,都宾稳健些,不像奥斯本精神勃勃,把心里的话嚷嚷得人人都知道.     使全国全军振奋的消息传开之后,大家激动得很,没有心思顾到私事了.乔治.奥斯本新近正式发表升了上尉;部队已经决定往外开拔,因此又得忙着做种种准备,心里还急煎煎的等着再升一级.时局平静的时候认为要紧的大事,这当儿也来不及多管了.说老实话,他听得忠厚的赛特笠老先生遭了横祸,并不觉得怎么愁闷.倒楣的老头儿和债主第一次会谈的时候,他正在试新装;新的军服衬得他非常漂亮.他的父亲后来告诉他那破产的家伙怎么混帐,怎么不要脸,耍什么流氓手段;又把以前说过的关于爱米丽亚的话重新提了一下,禁止他和她来往.当晚他父亲给他一大笔钱,专为付漂亮的新制服和新肩章的费用.这小伙子使钱一向散漫,不会嫌多,当下收了钱,也就没有多说话.他在赛特笠家里度过多少快乐的时光,如今却见屋子外面贴满了纸招儿.进城的时候,他歇在斯洛德客店里;当夜他出了家门往客店里去,看见这些纸招儿映着月光雪白一片.看来爱米丽亚和她父母已经从他们舒服的家里给赶出去了.他们在哪儿安身呢?他想到他们家里这么零落,心里很难过.晚上他的伙伴们看见他闷闷的坐在咖啡室里,喝了好些酒.     不久都宾进来,劝他少喝酒.他回说心里不痛快,只得借酒浇愁.他的朋友问了许多不识时务的问题,而且做出很有含蓄的样子向他打听有什么消息,奥斯本不肯多话,只说心里有事,闷得慌.     回到营里三天之后,都宾发现年轻的奥斯本上尉坐在自己房间里,头靠着桌子,旁边散着许多信纸,仿佛是非常懊丧的样子."她......她把我送给她的东西都退回来了.就是这几件倒楣的首饰.你瞧!"他旁边搁着一个小包,上面写明交给乔治.奥斯本上尉,那笔迹非常眼熟.另外散放着几件小东西:一只戒指,他小时候在集场上买给她的一把银刀,一条金链子,下面坠着个小金盒子,安着一绺头发.他满心懊恼,哼唧了一声说道:"什么都完了.威廉,这封信你要看吗?"说着,他指指一封短信.信上说:     这是我最后一次写信给你了.爸爸叫我把你给我的礼物都退回给你......这些东西还都是你在从前的好日子里送给我的.我们遭到这样的灾难,想来你一定和我一样难受......我知道你和我一样难受.在这种不幸的情形之下,咱们的婚约不可能再继续下去,因此我让你自由.奥斯本先生这么狠心的猜疑我们,比什么都使我们伤心.我相信我们这么受苦,给别人疑心,都和你没有关系.再会!再会!我祷求上帝给我力量承受这个苦难和许多别的苦难.我祷告上帝保佑你.     爱米     我以后一定时常弹琴......你的琴.只有你才想得到把它送给我.     都宾心肠最软,每逢看见女人和孩子受苦,就会流眼泪.这忠厚的人儿想到爱米丽亚又寂寞又悲伤,扎心的难受,忍不住哭起来.倘若你要笑他没有丈夫气概,也只得由你了.他赌神罚誓的说爱米丽亚是下凡的天使.奥斯本全心全意的赞成他的话;他也在回忆过去的生活,想她从小儿到大,总是那么天真.妩媚,单纯得有趣,对自己更是轻怜密爱,没半点儿矫饰.     从前是得福不知,现在落了空,反觉悔恨无及.霎时间千百样家常习见的情景和回忆都涌到眼前.他所看见的爱米丽亚,总是温良美丽的.他想起自己又冷淡又自私,她却是忠贞不二,只有红着脸羞愧和懊悔的份儿.两个朋友一时把光荣.战争,一切都忘记了,只谈爱米丽亚.     长谈之后,两个人半晌不说话.奥斯本想起自己没有想法子找寻她,老大不好意思,问道:"他们到哪儿去了?他们到哪儿去了?信上并没有写地名."     都宾知道她的地址.他不但把钢琴送到她家,而且写了一封信给赛特笠太太,说要去拜访她.前一天,他回契顿姆之前,已经见过赛特笠太太和爱米丽亚.使他们两人心动神摇的告别信和小包裹就是他带来的.     赛特笠太太殷勤招待忠厚的都宾.她收到钢琴之后,兴奋得不得了,以为这是乔治要表示好意,送来的礼.都宾上尉不去纠正这好太太的错误,只是满怀同情的听她诉说她的烦难和苦恼.她谈起这次有多少损失,眼前过日子多么艰苦,他竭力安慰她,顺着她责备奥斯本先生对他从前的恩人不该这样无情无义.等她吐掉心里的苦水,稍微舒畅了一些,他才鼓起勇气要求见见爱米丽亚.爱米老是闷在自己屋子里,她母亲上去把她领下楼来.她一边走一边身上还在发抖.     她一些血色都没有,脸上灰心绝望的表情看着叫人心酸.老实的都宾见她颜色苍白,呆着脸儿,觉得总是凶多吉少,心里害怕起来.她陪着客人坐了一两分钟,就把小包交给他,说道:"请你把这包东西交给奥斯本上尉.我......我希望他身体很好.多谢你来看我们.我们的新房子很舒服.妈妈,我......我想上楼去了,我累得很."可怜的孩子说了这话,对客人笑了一笑,行了一个礼,转身走了.她母亲一面扶她上楼,一面回过头来看着都宾,眼睛里的神情十分凄惨.这个忠厚的家伙自己已经一心恋着她,哪里还用她母亲诉苦呢?他心里一股子说不出来的凄惶.怜惜.忧愁,出门的时候,心神不安得仿佛自己做了亏心事.     奥斯本听得他朋友已经找着了爱米,一叠连声急急忙忙的问了许多问题.那可怜的孩子身体怎么样?看上去还好吗?她说了什么话?他的朋友拉着他的手,正眼看着他的脸说道:"乔治,她要死了."威廉.都宾说了这话,再也说不出第二句来.     赛特笠一家安身的小屋里有个胖胖的年轻爱尔兰女佣人.屋里粗细活计都是她一个人做.多少天来,这女孩儿老在想法子安慰爱米丽亚,或是怎么样帮帮她的忙.她白费了一番力气;爱米丽亚心下悲苦,提不起精神来回答她,恐怕根本不知道那女孩子在替她尽心.     都宾和奥斯本谈话以后四个钟头,这小女佣人走到爱米丽亚房间里,看见爱米照常坐在那里对着乔治的几封信(她的宝贝)悄没声儿的发怔.女孩子满面得色,笑嘻嘻的非常高兴,做出许多张致来想叫可怜的爱米注意她,可是爱米不理.     女孩子说:"爱米小姐."     爱米头也不回的说道:"我就来."     女佣人接下去说道:"有人送信来了.有个人......有件事情......喏,这儿有封新的信来了,别尽着看旧信了."她递给爱米一封信,爱米接过来一看,只见上面写道:"我要见你.最亲爱的爱米......最亲爱的爱人......最亲爱的妻子,到我身边来吧!"     乔治和她妈妈在房门外面,等她把信看完.

CHAPTER XIX Miss Crawley at Nurse We have seen how Mrs. Firkin, the lady's maid, as soon as any event of importance to the Crawley family came to her knowledge, felt bound to communicate it to Mrs. Bute Crawley, at the Rectory; and have before mentioned how particularly kind and attentive that good- natured lady was to Miss Crawley's confidential servant. She had been a gracious friend to Miss Briggs, the companion, also; and had secured the latter's good-will by a number of those attentions and promises, which cost so little in the making, and are yet so valuable and agreeable to the recipient. Indeed every good economist and manager of a household must know how cheap and yet how amiable these professions are, and what a flavour they give to the most homely dish in life. Who was the blundering idiot who said that "fine words butter no parsnips"? Half the parsnips of society are served and rendered palatable with no other sauce. As the immortal Alexis Soyer can make more delicious soup for a half-penny than an ignorant cook can concoct with pounds of vegetables and meat, so a skilful artist will make a few simple and pleasing phrases go farther than ever so much substantial benefit-stock in the hands of a mere bungler. Nay, we know that substantial benefits often sicken some stomachs; whereas, most will digest any amount of fine words, and be always eager for more of the same food. Mrs. Bute had told Briggs and Firkin so often of the depth of her affection for them; and what she would do, if she had Miss Crawley's fortune, for friends so excellent and attached, that the ladies in question had the deepest regard for her; and felt as much gratitude and confidence as if Mrs. Bute had loaded them with the most expensive favours. Rawdon Crawley, on the other hand, like a selfish heavy dragoon as he was, never took the least trouble to conciliate his aunt's aides- de-camp, showed his contempt for the pair with entire frankness-- made Firkin pull off his boots on one occasion--sent her out in the rain on ignominious messages--and if he gave her a guinea, flung it to her as if it were a box on the ear. As his aunt, too, made a butt of Briggs, the Captain followed the example, and levelled his jokes at her--jokes about as delicate as a kick from his charger. Whereas, Mrs. Bute consulted her in matters of taste or difficulty, admired her poetry, and by a thousand acts of kindness and politeness, showed her appreciation of Briggs; and if she made Firkin a twopenny-halfpenny present, accompanied it with so many compliments, that the twopence-half-penny was transmuted into gold in the heart of the grateful waiting-maid, who, besides, was looking forwards quite contentedly to some prodigious benefit which must happen to her on the day when Mrs. Bute came into her fortune. The different conduct of these two people is pointed out respectfully to the attention of persons commencing the world. Praise everybody, I say to such: never be squeamish, but speak out your compliment both point-blank in a man's face, and behind his back, when you know there is a reasonable chance of his hearing it again. Never lose a chance of saying a kind word. As Collingwood never saw a vacant place in his estate but he took an acorn out of his pocket and popped it in; so deal with your compliments through life. An acorn costs nothing; but it may sprout into a prodigious bit of timber. In a word, during Rawdon Crawley's prosperity, he was only obeyed with sulky acquiescence; when his disgrace came, there was nobody to help or pity him. Whereas, when Mrs. Bute took the command at Miss Crawley's house, the garrison there were charmed to act under such a leader, expecting all sorts of promotion from her promises, her generosity, and her kind words. That he would consider himself beaten, after one defeat, and make no attempt to regain the position he had lost, Mrs. Bute Crawley never allowed herself to suppose. She knew Rebecca to be too clever and spirited and desperate a woman to submit without a struggle; and felt that she must prepare for that combat, and be incessantly watchful against assault; or mine, or surprise. In the first place, though she held the town, was she sure of the principal inhabitant? Would Miss Crawley herself hold out; and had she not a secret longing to welcome back the ousted adversary? The old lady liked Rawdon, and Rebecca, who amused her. Mrs. Bute could not disguise from herself the fact that none of her party could so contribute to the pleasures of the town-bred lady. "My girls' singing, after that little odious governess's, I know is unbearable," the candid Rector's wife owned to herself. "She always used to go to sleep when Martha and Louisa played their duets. Jim's stiff college manners and poor dear Bute's talk about his dogs and horses always annoyed her. If I took her to the Rectory, she would grow angry with us all, and fly, I know she would; and might fall into that horrid Rawdon's clutches again, and be the victim of that little viper of a Sharp. Meanwhile, it is clear to me that she is exceedingly unwell, and cannot move for some weeks, at any rate; during which we must think of some plan to protect her from the arts of those unprincipled people." In the very best-of moments, if anybody told Miss Crawley that she was, or looked ill, the trembling old lady sent off for her doctor; and I daresay she was very unwell after the sudden family event, which might serve to shake stronger nerves than hers. At least, Mrs. Bute thought it was her duty to inform the physician, and the apothecary, and the dame-de-compagnie, and the domestics, that Miss Crawley was in a most critical state, and that they were to act accordingly. She had the street laid knee-deep with straw; and the knocker put by with Mr. Bowls's plate. She insisted that the Doctor should call twice a day; and deluged her patient with draughts every two hours. When anybody entered the room, she uttered a shshshsh so sibilant and ominous, that it frightened the poor old lady in her bed, from which she could not look without seeing Mrs. Bute's beady eyes eagerly fixed on her, as the latter sate steadfast in the arm- chair by the bedside. They seemed to lighten in the dark (for she kept the curtains closed) as she moved about the room on velvet paws like a cat. There Miss Crawley lay for days--ever so many days--Mr. Bute reading books of devotion to her: for nights, long nights, during which she had to hear the watchman sing, the night-light sputter; visited at midnight, the last thing, by the stealthy apothecary; and then left to look at Mrs. Bute's twinkling eyes, or the flicks of yellow that the rushlight threw on the dreary darkened ceiling. Hygeia herself would have fallen sick under such a regimen; and how much more this poor old nervous victim? It has been said that when she was in health and good spirits, this venerable inhabitant of Vanity Fair had as free notions about religion and morals as Monsieur de Voltaire himself could desire, but when illness overtook her, it was aggravated by the most dreadful terrors of death, and an utter cowardice took possession of the prostrate old sinner. Sick-bed homilies and pious reflections are, to be sure, out of place in mere story-books, and we are not going (after the fashion of some novelists of the present day) to cajole the public into a sermon, when it is only a comedy that the reader pays his money to witness. But, without preaching, the truth may surely be borne in mind, that the bustle, and triumph, and laughter, and gaiety which Vanity Fair exhibits in public, do not always pursue the performer into private life, and that the most dreary depression of spirits and dismal repentances sometimes overcome him. Recollection of the best ordained banquets will scarcely cheer sick epicures. Reminiscences of the most becoming dresses and brilliant ball triumphs will go very little way to console faded beauties. Perhaps statesmen, at a particular period of existence, are not much gratified at thinking over the most triumphant divisions; and the success or the pleasure of yesterday becomes of very small account when a certain (albeit uncertain) morrow is in view, about which all of us must some day or other be speculating. O brother wearers of motley! Are there not moments when one grows sick of grinning and tumbling, and the jingling of cap and bells? This, dear friends and companions, is my amiable object--to walk with you through the Fair, to examine the shops and the shows there; and that we should all come home after the flare, and the noise, and the gaiety, and be perfectly miserable in private. "If that poor man of mine had a head on his shoulders," Mrs. Bute Crawley thought to herself, "how useful he might be, under present circumstances, to this unhappy old lady! He might make her repent of her shocking free-thinking ways; he might urge her to do her duty, and cast off that odious reprobate who has disgraced himself and his family; and he might induce her to do justice to my dear girls and the two boys, who require and deserve, I am sure, every assistance which their relatives can give them." And, as the hatred of vice is always a progress towards virtue, Mrs. Bute Crawley endeavoured to instil her sister-in-law a proper abhorrence for all Rawdon Crawley's manifold sins: of which his uncle's wife brought forward such a catalogue as indeed would have served to condemn a whole regiment of young officers. If a man has committed wrong in life, I don't know any moralist more anxious to point his errors out to the world than his own relations; so Mrs. Bute showed a perfect family interest and knowledge of Rawdon's history. She had all the particulars of that ugly quarrel with Captain Marker, in which Rawdon, wrong from the beginning, ended in shooting the Captain. She knew how the unhappy Lord Dovedale, whose mamma had taken a house at Oxford, so that he might be educated there, and who had never touched a card in his life till he came to London, was perverted by Rawdon at the Cocoa-Tree, made helplessly tipsy by this abominable seducer and perverter of youth, and fleeced of four thousand pounds. She described with the most vivid minuteness the agonies of the country families whom he had ruined-- the sons whom he had plunged into dishonour and poverty--the daughters whom he had inveigled into perdition. She knew the poor tradesmen who were bankrupt by his extravagance--the mean shifts and rogueries with which he had ministered to it--the astounding falsehoods by which he had imposed upon the most generous of aunts, and the ingratitude and ridicule by which he had repaid her sacrifices. She imparted these stories gradually to Miss Crawley; gave her the whole benefit of them; felt it to be her bounden duty as a Christian woman and mother of a family to do so; had not the smallest remorse or compunction for the victim whom her tongue was immolating; nay, very likely thought her act was quite meritorious, and plumed herself upon her resolute manner of performing it. Yes, if a man's character is to be abused, say what you will, there's nobody like a relation to do the business. And one is bound to own, regarding this unfortunate wretch of a Rawdon Crawley, that the mere truth was enough to condemn him, and that all inventions of scandal were quite superfluous pains on his friends' parts. Rebecca, too, being now a relative, came in for the fullest share of Mrs. Bute's kind inquiries. This indefatigable pursuer of truth (having given strict orders that the door was to be denied to all emissaries or letters from Rawdon), took Miss Crawley's carriage, and drove to her old friend Miss Pinkerton, at Minerva House, Chiswick Mall, to whom she announced the dreadful intelligence of Captain Rawdon's seduction by Miss Sharp, and from whom she got sundry strange particulars regarding the ex-governess's birth and early history. The friend of the Lexicographer had plenty of information to give. Miss Jemima was made to fetch the drawing- master's receipts and letters. This one was from a spunging-house: that entreated an advance: another was full of gratitude for Rebecca's reception by the ladies of Chiswick: and the last document from the unlucky artist's pen was that in which, from his dying bed, he recommended his orphan child to Miss Pinkerton's protection. There were juvenile letters and petitions from Rebecca, too, in the collection, imploring aid for her father or declaring her own gratitude. Perhaps in Vanity Fair there are no better satires than letters. Take a bundle of your dear friend's of ten years back-- your dear friend whom you hate now. Look at a file of your sister's! how you clung to each other till you quarrelled about the twenty-pound legacy! Get down the round-hand scrawls of your son who has half broken your heart with selfish undutifulness since; or a parcel of your own, breathing endless ardour and love eternal, which were sent back by your mistress when she married the Nabob-- your mistress for whom you now care no more than for Queen Elizabeth. Vows, love, promises, confidences, gratitude, how queerly they read after a while! There ought to be a law in Vanity Fair ordering the destruction of every written document (except receipted tradesmen's bills) after a certain brief and proper interval. Those quacks and misanthropes who advertise indelible Japan ink should be made to perish along with their wicked discoveries. The best ink for Vanity Fair use would be one that faded utterly in a couple of days, and left the paper clean and blank, so that you might write on it to somebody else. From Miss Pinkerton's the indefatigable Mrs. Bute followed the track of Sharp and his daughter back to the lodgings in Greek Street, which the defunct painter had occupied; and where portraits of the landlady in white satin, and of the husband in brass buttons, done by Sharp in lieu of a quarter's rent, still decorated the parlour walls. Mrs. Stokes was a communicative person, and quickly told all she knew about Mr. Sharp; how dissolute and poor he was; how good- natured and amusing; how he was always hunted by bailiffs and duns; how, to the landlady's horror, though she never could abide the woman, he did not marry his wife till a short time before her death; and what a queer little wild vixen his daughter was; how she kept them all laughing with her fun and mimicry; how she used to fetch the gin from the public-house, and was known in all the studios in the quarter--in brief, Mrs. Bute got such a full account of her new niece's parentage, education, and behaviour as would scarcely have pleased Rebecca, had the latter known that such inquiries were being made concerning her. Of all these industrious researches Miss Crawley had the full benefit. Mrs. Rawdon Crawley was the daughter of an opera-girl. She had danced herself. She had been a model to the painters. She was brought up as became her mother's daughter. She drank gin with her father, &c. &c. It was a lost woman who was married to a lost man; and the moral to be inferred from Mrs. Bute's tale was, that the knavery of the pair was irremediable, and that no properly conducted person should ever notice them again. These were the materials which prudent Mrs. Bute gathered together in Park Lane, the provisions and ammunition as it were with which she fortified the house against the siege which she knew that Rawdon and his wife would lay to Miss Crawley. But if a fault may be found with her arrangements, it is this, that she was too eager: she managed rather too well; undoubtedly she made Miss Crawley more ill than was necessary; and though the old invalid succumbed to her authority, it was so harassing and severe, that the victim would be inclined to escape at the very first chance which fell in her way. Managing women, the ornaments of their sex--women who order everything for everybody, and know so much better than any person concerned what is good for their neighbours, don't sometimes speculate upon the possibility of a domestic revolt, or upon other extreme consequences resulting from their overstrained authority. Thus, for instance, Mrs. Bute, with the best intentions no doubt in the world, and wearing herself to death as she did by foregoing sleep, dinner, fresh air, for the sake of her invalid sister-in-law, carried her conviction of the old lady's illness so far that she almost managed her into her coffin. She pointed out her sacrifices and their results one day to the constant apothecary, Mr. Clump. "I am sure, my dear Mr. Clump," she said, "no efforts of mine have been wanting to restore our dear invalid, whom the ingratitude of her nephew has laid on the bed of sickness. I never shrink from personal discomfort: I never refuse to sacrifice myself." "Your devotion, it must be confessed, is admirable," Mr. Clump says, with a low bow; "but--" "I have scarcely closed my eyes since my arrival: I give up sleep, health, every comfort, to my sense of duty. When my poor James was in the smallpox, did I allow any hireling to nurse him? No." "You did what became an excellent mother, my dear Madam--the best of mothers; but--" "As the mother of a family and the wife of an English clergyman, I humbly trust that my principles are good," Mrs. Bute said, with a happy solemnity of conviction; "and, as long as Nature supports me, never, never, Mr. Clump, will I desert the post of duty. Others may bring that grey head with sorrow to the bed of sickness (here Mrs. Bute, waving her hand, pointed to one of old Miss Crawley's coffee- coloured fronts, which was perched on a stand in the dressing-room), but I will never quit it. Ah, Mr. Clump! I fear, I know, that the couch needs spiritual as well as medical consolation." "What I was going to observe, my dear Madam,"--here the resolute Clump once more interposed with a bland air--"what I was going to observe when you gave utterance to sentiments which do you so much honour, was that I think you alarm yourself needlessly about our kind friend, and sacrifice your own health too prodigally in her favour." "I would lay down my life for my duty, or for any member of my husband's family," Mrs. Bute interposed. "Yes, Madam, if need were; but we don't want Mrs Bute Crawley to be a martyr," Clump said gallantly. "Dr Squills and myself have both considered Miss Crawley's case with every anxiety and care, as you may suppose. We see her low-spirited and nervous; family events have agitated her." "Her nephew will come to perdition," Mrs. Crawley cried. "Have agitated her: and you arrived like a guardian angel, my dear Madam, a positive guardian angel, I assure you, to soothe her under the pressure of calamity. But Dr. Squills and I were thinking that our amiable friend is not in such a state as renders confinement to her bed necessary. She is depressed, but this confinement perhaps adds to her depression. She should have change, fresh air, gaiety; the most delightful remedies in the pharmacopoeia," Mr. Clump said, grinning and showing his handsome teeth. "Persuade her to rise, dear Madam; drag her from her couch and her low spirits; insist upon her taking little drives. They will restore the roses too to your cheeks, if I may so speak to Mrs. Bute Crawley." "The sight of her horrid nephew casually in the Park, where I am told the wretch drives with the brazen partner of his crimes," Mrs. Bute said (letting the cat of selfishness out of the bag of secrecy), "would cause her such a shock, that we should have to bring her back to bed again. She must not go out, Mr. Clump. She shall not go out as long as I remain to watch over her; And as for my health, what matters it? I give it cheerfully, sir. I sacrifice it at the altar of my duty." "Upon my word, Madam," Mr. Clump now said bluntly, "I won't answer for her life if she remains locked up in that dark room. She is so nervous that we may lose her any day; and if you wish Captain Crawley to be her heir, I warn you frankly, Madam, that you are doing your very best to serve him." "Gracious mercy! is her life in danger?" Mrs. Bute cried. "Why, why, Mr. Clump, did you not inform me sooner?" The night before, Mr. Clump and Dr. Squills had had a consultation (over a bottle of wine at the house of Sir Lapin Warren, whose lady was about to present him with a thirteenth blessing), regarding Miss Crawley and her case. "What a little harpy that woman from Hampshire is, Clump," Squills remarked, "that has seized upon old Tilly Crawley. Devilish good Madeira." "What a fool Rawdon Crawley has been," Clump replied, "to go and marry a governess! There was something about the girl, too." "Green eyes, fair skin, pretty figure, famous frontal development," Squills remarked. "There is something about her; and Crawley was a fool, Squills." "A d--- fool--always was," the apothecary replied. "Of course the old girl will fling him over," said the physician, and after a pause added, "She'll cut up well, I suppose." "Cut up," says Clump with a grin; "I wouldn't have her cut up for two hundred a year." "That Hampshire woman will kill her in two months, Clump, my boy, if she stops about her," Dr. Squills said. "Old woman; full feeder; nervous subject; palpitation of the heart; pressure on the brain; apoplexy; off she goes. Get her up, Clump; get her out: or I wouldn't give many weeks' purchase for your two hundred a year." And it was acting upon this hint that the worthy apothecary spoke with so much candour to Mrs. Bute Crawley. Having the old lady under her hand: in bed: with nobody near, Mrs. Bute had made more than one assault upon her, to induce her to alter her will. But Miss Crawley's usual terrors regarding death increased greatly when such dismal propositions were made to her, and Mrs. Bute saw that she must get her patient into cheerful spirits and health before she could hope to attain the pious object which she had in view. Whither to take her was the next puzzle. The only place where she is not likely to meet those odious Rawdons is at church, and that won't amuse her, Mrs. Bute justly felt. "We must go and visit our beautiful suburbs of London," she then thought. "I hear they are the most picturesque in the world"; and so she had a sudden interest for Hampstead, and Hornsey, and found that Dulwich had great charms for her, and getting her victim into her carriage, drove her to those rustic spots, beguiling the little journeys with conversations about Rawdon and his wife, and telling every story to the old lady which could add to her indignation against this pair of reprobates. Perhaps Mrs. Bute pulled the string unnecessarily tight. For though she worked up Miss Crawley to a proper dislike of her disobedient nephew, the invalid had a great hatred and secret terror of her victimizer, and panted to escape from her. After a brief space, she rebelled against Highgate and Hornsey utterly. She would go into the Park. Mrs. Bute knew they would meet the abominable Rawdon there, and she was right. One day in the ring, Rawdon's stanhope came in sight; Rebecca was seated by him. In the enemy's equipage Miss Crawley occupied her usual place, with Mrs. Bute on her left, the poodle and Miss Briggs on the back seat. It was a nervous moment, and Rebecca's heart beat quick as she recognized the carriage; and as the two vehicles crossed each other in a line, she clasped her hands, and looked towards the spinster with a face of agonized attachment and devotion. Rawdon himself trembled, and his face grew purple behind his dyed mustachios. Only old Briggs was moved in the other carriage, and cast her great eyes nervously towards her old friends. Miss Crawley's bonnet was resolutely turned towards the Serpentine. Mrs. Bute happened to be in ecstasies with the poodle, and was calling him a little darling, and a sweet little zoggy, and a pretty pet. The carriages moved on, each in his line. "Done, by Jove," Rawdon said to his wife. "Try once more, Rawdon," Rebecca answered. "Could not you lock your wheels into theirs, dearest?" Rawdon had not the heart for that manoeuvre. When the carriages met again, he stood up in his stanhope; he raised his hand ready to doff his hat; he looked with all his eyes. But this time Miss Crawley's face was not turned away; she and Mrs. Bute looked him full in the face, and cut their nephew pitilessly. He sank back in his seat with an oath, and striking out of the ring, dashed away desperately homewards. It was a gallant and decided triumph for Mrs. Bute. But she felt the danger of many such meetings, as she saw the evident nervousness of Miss Crawley; and she determined that it was most necessary for her dear friend's health, that they should leave town for a while, and recommended Brighton very strongly. 第 十 九 章    克劳莱小姐生病     上面已经提起,说是上房女佣人孚金姑娘只要知道克劳莱家里出了什么要紧事,一定会通知牧师夫人别德.克劳莱太太,仿佛这是她的责任.我们也已经说过,这好脾气的太太对克劳莱小姐的亲信女佣人另眼看待,特别的客气殷勤.她和克劳莱小姐的女伴布立葛丝小姐也很讲交情,对她十分周到,不时许她好处,就赢得了布立葛丝的欢心.客气话和空人情在许愿的人不费什么,受的人却觉得舒服,当它宝贵的礼物.真的,凡是持家俭省会调度的主妇都知道好言好语多么便宜,多么受人欢迎.我们一辈子做人,哪怕吃的是最平常的饭菜,有了好话调味,也就觉得可口了.不知哪个糊涂蠢材说过这话:"好听的话儿当不得奶油,拌不得胡萝卜."世界上一半的胡萝卜就是用这种沙司拌的,要不然那里有这样好吃呢?不朽的名厨亚莱克斯.索叶(亚莱克斯.索叶(Ａｌｅｘｉｓ　Ｓｏｙｅｒ,１８０９—５８),有名的法国厨子,住在英国,曾写过不少烹调书.)花了半便士做出来的汤,比外行的新手用了几磅肉和蔬菜做出来的还可口.同样的,技艺高妙的名家只消随口说几句简单悦耳的话,往往比手中有实惠有现钱的草包容易成功.还有些人的胃口不好,吞下了实惠反而害病,好听的空话,却是人人都能消化的.而且吃马屁的人从来不嫌多,没足没够的吃了还想吃.别德太太几次三番表示自己对孚金和布立葛丝交情深厚,并且说若是她有了克劳莱小姐的家私,打算怎么样报答这样忠心的好朋友,因此这两个女的对她敬重得无以复加,而且感激她,相信她,好像她已经送了她们多少值钱的重礼了.     罗登.克劳莱究竟只是个又自私又粗笨的骑兵,他不但不费一点儿心思去讨好他姑母的下人,而且老实表示看不起她们.有一回他叫孚金替他脱靴子,又有一回,为一点儿无关紧要的小事下雨天叫她出去送信;虽然也赏她个把基尼,总是把钱照脸一扔,好像给她一下耳刮子.上尉又爱学着他姑母的榜样,拿布立葛丝开玩笑,常常打趣她.他的笑话轻灵到什么程度呢,大概有他的马踢人家一蹄子那么重.别德太太就不同了,每逢有细致为难的问题,总要和布立葛丝商议一下.她不但赏识布立葛丝的诗,并且处处对她体谅尊敬,表示好意.她有时送孚金一件只值两三文小钱的礼物,可得赔上一车好话,女佣人感激得了不得,看着这两三文钱像金子一般贵重.孚金想着别德太太承继了遗产之后,她自己不知可得多少实惠,更觉得心满意足.     我现在把罗登和别德太太两人不同的行为比较一下,好让初出茅庐的人做参考.我对这班人说:你该逢人便夸,切忌挑挑拣拣的.你不但得当面奉承,如果背后的话可能吹到那人耳朵里,你不妨在别人面前也捧他一下.说好话的机会是切不可错过的.考林乌德(考林乌德(Ｃｕｔｈｂｅｒｔ　Ｃｏｌｌｉｎｇｗｏｏｄ,１７５０—１８１０),英国海军大将,在特拉法尔加之役,纳尔逊受伤后由他指挥.)每逢看见他庄地上有一块地空着,准会从口袋里掏出一颗橡实往空地上一扔,百无一失.你为人在世,也该拿他扔橡实的精神来恭维别人才行.一颗橡实能值多少?种下地去倒可能长出一大块的木料呢?     总而言之,罗登.克劳莱得意的当儿,底下人无可奈何,只得捺下气服从他;如今他出了丑,有谁肯帮助他怜悯他?自从别德太太接手在克劳莱小姐屋里管家之后,那儿的驻防军都因为得到这么一个领袖而欣幸.她人又慷慨,嘴又甜,又会许愿,大家料着在她手下不知有多少好处.     至于说到罗登会不会吃了一次亏就自认失败,不再想法子夺回往日的地位了呢?这种傻想头,别德.克劳莱太太是没有的.她知道利蓓加有勇有谋,惯能从死里求活,决不肯不战而退.她一面准备正面迎敌,并且随时留神,提防敌人会猛攻突击,或是暗里埋下地雷.     第一件要考虑的是,她虽然已经占领这座城池,是不是能够把握城里的主要居民还是问题.克劳莱小姐在这种情形之下支撑得下去吗?她的对手虽然已给驱逐出境,克劳莱小姐会不会暗暗希望他们回来呢?老太太喜欢罗登,也喜欢利蓓加,因为利蓓加能够替她解闷.别德太太不能自骗自,只得承认自己一党的人没有一个能够给城里太太开心消遣.牧师太太老老实实的想道:"我知道,听过了可恶的家庭教师唱歌,我的女儿唱的歌儿是不中听的了.玛莎和露意莎合奏的当儿她老是打瞌睡.杰姆是一股子硬绷绷的大学生派头,可怜的别德宝贝儿老说些狗呀马呀,她看着这两个人都觉得心烦.如果我把她带到乡下,她准会生了气从我们家逃出去,那是一定的.那么一来,她不是又掉到罗登的手心里面,给那脏心烂肺的夏泼算计了去了吗?我看得很清楚,眼前她病的很重,至少在这几个星期里头不能起床.我得趁现在想个法子保护她,免得她着了道儿,上那些混帐东西的当."     克劳莱小姐身体最好的时候,只要听人说她有病或是脸色不好,就会浑身索索抖的忙着请医生.现在家里突如其来发生了大事,神经比她强健的人也要挡不住,何况她呢.所以我想她身上的确很不好.且不管她有多少病,反正别德太太认为她职责所在,应该告诉医生.医生的助手.克劳莱小姐的女伴和家里所有的佣人,说克劳莱小姐有性命危险,叮嘱他们千万不可粗心大意.她发出命令,在附近街上铺了一层干草,厚得几乎没膝.又叫人把门环取下来交给鲍尔斯和碗盏一起藏着,免得外面人打门惊吵了病人.她坚持要请医生一天来家看视两回,每隔两小时给病人吃药,灌了她一肚子药水.无论什么人走进病房,她口里便嘘呀嘘的不让人作声,那声音阴森森的,反而叫床上的病人害怕.她坚定不移的坐在床旁的圈椅里,可怜的老太太睁开眼来,就见她瞪着圆湛湛的眼睛全副精神望着自己.所有的窗帘都给她拉得严严的,屋里漆黑一片,她像猫儿一样悄没声儿的踅来踅去,两只眼睛仿佛在黑地里发出光来.克劳莱小姐在病房里躺了好多好多天,有时听别德太太读读宗教书.在漫漫的长夜里,守夜的按时报钟点,通夜不灭的油灯劈啪作响,她都得听着.半夜,医生的助手轻轻进来看她,那是一天里最后的一次,此后她只能瞧着别德太太亮晶晶的眼睛,或是灯花一爆之间投在阴暗的天花板上的黄光.按照这样的养生之道,别说这可怜的心惊胆战的老太太,连健康女神哈奇亚也会害病.前面已经说过,她在名利场上资格很老,只要身体好精神足的时候,对于宗教和道德的看法豁达得连伏尔泰先生也不能再苛求.可惜这罪孽深重的老婆子一生病就怕死,而且因为怕得利害,反而添了病,到后来不但身体衰弱,还吓得一团糟.     病床旁边的说法和传道在小说书里发表是不相宜的,我不愿意像近来有些小说家那样,把读者哄上了手,就教训他们一顿.我这书是一本喜剧,而且人家出了钱就为的要看戏.可是话又说回来了,我虽然不讲道说法,读者可得记住这条道理,就是说名利场上的演员在戏台上尽管又得意又高兴,忙忙碌碌,嘻嘻哈哈,回到家里却可能忧愁苦闷,嗟叹往事不堪回首.爱吃喝的老饕生了病,想起最丰盛的筵席也不见得有什么滋味.过时的美人回忆从前穿着漂亮衣服在跳舞会里大出风头,也得不到什么安慰.政治家上了年纪之后,咀嚼着从前竞选胜利最轰轰烈烈的情况也不会觉得怎么得意.世人难逃一死,死后的情况虽然难以捉摸,一死是免不了的.咱们迟早会想到这一层,迟早要推测一下死后的境界.一个人的心思一转到这上面,过去的成功和快乐便不算什么了.同行的小丑们啊!你们嬉皮扯脸,满身垂着铃铛,翻呀滚呀,不也觉得厌倦吗?亲爱的朋友们,我存心是忠厚的,我的目的,就是陪着你们走遍这个市场,什么铺子.赛会.戏文,都进去看个仔细,等到咱们体味过其中的欢乐.热闹.铺张,再各自回家去烦恼吧!     别德.克劳莱太太暗想道:"我那可怜的丈夫倘若有点儿头脑,现在就用得着他了,正好叫他来劝导可怜的老太太,让她回心转意,改变她以前混帐的自由思想,好好的尽自己的本分,从此和那浪荡子断绝往来.可恨他不但自己出乖露丑,还连累了家里的名声!我的宝贝女儿们,还有我两个儿子,才真需要亲戚们帮忙,况且他们也配.如果别德能够叫老太太开了眼,给他们一个公道待遇,那就好了."     要弃邪归正,第一步先得憎恨罪恶,因此别德.克劳莱太太竭力使大姑明白罗登.克劳莱种种行为实在是罪大恶极.罗登的罪过经他婶娘一数一理,真是长长一大串,给联队里所有的年轻军官分担,也足够叫他们都受处分.按我的经验来说,你要是做错了事,你自己的亲戚比什么道学先生都着急,来不及的把你干的坏事叫嚷得大家知道.讲起罗登过去的历史,别德太太非常熟悉,显见得她是本家的人,随处关心.关于罗登和马克上尉吵架的丑事,所有的细节她都知道;这事一起头就是罗登不对,结果他还把上尉一熗打死.还有一个可怜的德芙台尔勋爵,他的妈妈要他在牛津上学,特特的在牛津找下房子;他本人一向不碰纸牌,哪知道一到伦敦就给罗登教坏了.罗登这恶棍惯会勾引青年,调唆他们往邪路上走,他把德芙台尔带到可可树俱乐部把他灌得大醉,骗了他四千镑钱.罗登毁掉多少乡下的斯文人家,......儿子给他弄得身名狼藉,一文不剩,女儿上他的当,断送在他手里.这些人家的苦痛,别德太太有声有色,仔仔细细的形容了一番.她还认识好几个可怜的商人,给罗登闹的倾家荡产.原来他不但大手大脚的挥霍,还会耍各种下流卑鄙的手段躲债害人.他的姑妈总算世界上最慷慨的人了吧?罗登不但欺骗她,......这些鬼话真吓死人!而且全无良心,姑妈为他克扣自己,他反而在背后笑话她.别德太太把这些故事慢慢的讲给克劳莱小姐听,没有漏掉一件.她觉得自己是基督教徒,又是一家的主妇,这一点责任是应该尽的.她说的话虽然使听的人加添许多苦痛,她可没觉得良心不安,反而因为毅然决然的尽了责任而自鸣得意,以为自己干了一件有益的事.要毁坏一个人的名誉,这事就得留给她的亲戚来干......随你说什么,我知道我这话是不错的.至于罗登.克劳莱这倒楣东西呢,说老实话,单是他真正干下的坏事就够混帐了;他的朋友别德太太给他编了许多谣言,全是白费力气.     利蓓加现在也成了本家人,因此别德太太十分关心她,用尽心思四处打听她过去的历史.别德太太追求真理是不怕烦难的,她特地坐了克劳莱小姐的马车到契息克林荫道密纳佛大厦去拜访她的老朋友平克顿小姐(事前她切实的嘱咐家下的佣人,凡是罗登差来的人和送来的信,一概不接受),一方面报告夏泼小姐勾引罗登上尉的坏消息,同时又探听得几件稀奇的新闻,都和那家庭教师的家世和早年历史有关系.字汇家的朋友供给她不少情报.她叫吉米玛小姐把图画教师从前的收条和信札拿来.其中一封是从监牢里写来的;他欠债被捕,要求预支薪水.另一封是因为契息克的主妇们招待了利蓓加,她父亲写信千恩万谢的表示感激.倒运的画家最后一封信是临死前写的,专为向平克顿小姐托孤.此外还有利蓓加小时候写的信,有的替她爸爸求情,有的感谢校长的恩典.在名利场上,再没有比旧信更深刻的讽刺了.把你好朋友十年前写的一包信拿出来看看,......从前是好朋友,现在却成了仇人.或是读读你妹子给你的信,你们两人为那二十镑钱的遗产拌嘴以前多么亲密!或是把你儿子小时满纸涂鸦,小孩儿笔迹的家信拿下来翻翻,后来他的自私忤逆,不是差点儿刺破了你的心吗?或者重温你自己写给爱人的情书,满纸说的都是无穷的眷恋,永恒的情爱,后来她嫁给一个从印度回国的财主,才把它们送还给你,如今她在你心上的印象不见得比伊丽莎白女王更深.誓约,诺言,道谢,痴情话,心腹话,过了些时候看着无一不可笑.名利场上该有一条法律,规定除了店铺的收条之外,一切文件字据,过了适当的短时期,统统应该销毁.有人登广告宣传日本的不褪色墨汁,这些人不是江湖骗子,便是存心捣蛋,应当和他们可恶的新发明一起毁灭.在名利场上最合适的墨水,过了两天颜色便褐掉了;于是纸上一干二净,你又可以用来写信给别人.     别德太太不辞劳苦的追寻夏泼和他女儿的踪迹.她从平克顿女校出来,又找到希腊街上那画家从前住过的房子里去.客厅里还挂着一幅画像,房东太太穿着白软缎袍子,房东先生胸前一排铜钮扣.这画像是当年夏泼欠了一季房钱,拿它抵租的.房东思多克斯太太非常爱说话,尽她所知,把夏泼先生的事情说给别德太太听.她说夏泼又穷又荒唐,可是脾气好,人也有趣.衙门里的地保跟讨债的老是跟着他.他和他女人一直没有正式结婚,直到她临死前不久才行了婚礼.房东太太虽然不喜欢那女的,对于这件事可是非常不赞成.夏泼的女儿是个小狐狸精,野头野脑的,脾气很古怪.她爱开玩笑,又会模仿人,真逗乐儿.她从前常到酒店里去买杜松子酒,附近一带画画儿的人,没一个不认识她.总而言之,别德太太对于新娶的侄媳妇的家世.教育.品行都打听的清清楚楚,利蓓加若知道她这样调查自己的历史,一定要大不高兴.     别德太太把辛苦搜索得来的结果一古脑儿告诉了克劳莱小姐.罗登.克劳莱太太原来是戏子的女儿.她自己也上台跳过舞.她也做过画家的模特儿.她自小儿就受母亲的熏陶;还跟着父亲喝杜松子烧酒,另外还有许多别的罪状.她嫁了罗登,只算堕落的女人嫁了个堕落的男人.别德太太的故事含有教训,就是说那两口子真是混帐透顶,没有救星了,正正派派的人,再也不愿意去理他们.     以上就是精细的别德太太在派克街收集的材料.她知道罗登和他的太太准在想法子向克劳莱小姐进攻,这些资料可算是武装这屋子必需的军火和粮草.     别德太太的安排若还有漏洞,那只好怪她太性急.她布置得太周密了,其实根本不用把克劳莱小姐的病情制造得那么严重.年老的病人虽然由她摆布,可是嫌她太不放松,恨她把自己管头管脚,巴不得有机会从她手里溜之大吉.爱管闲事的女人的确是太太小姐队里的尖儿;她们什么都不放过,人人的事情都插一脚,还惯会替街坊邻舍出主意,想的办法比当局者还好.可是有一点,她们往往不提防本家的人会造反,想不到压得太重,就会引出大事来.     譬如说吧,别德太太不顾自己的死活,自愿不睡不吃,不吸新鲜空气,伺候她生病的大姑,我相信她完全出于好心.她深信老太太生了重病,差点儿没把她一直安排到棺材里去.有一次,她和每天来看病的助手医生克伦浦谈起自己的种种牺牲和成绩.     她说:"亲爱的克伦浦先生,都是侄儿没良心,才叫姑妈气出这场病来.我呢,伺候她可没偷懒,总算尽了力,只求亲爱的病人快快复原.我从来不怕吃苦,我也不怕自我牺牲."     克伦浦先生深深打了一躬,说道:"我只能说您的热心真叫人敬重,可是......"     "我自从来到这儿以后,简直就没合过眼.我要尽我的本分,只好不睡觉,不顾自己的身子,舒服不舒服的话更谈不到.我可怜的杰姆士出天花的时候,我哪里肯让佣人服侍他,都是自己来的呀!"     "亲爱的夫人,您尽了一个好母亲的本分,真是了不起,可是......"     别德太太觉得自己有道理,摆出恰到好处的正经脸色接着说道:"我是好些孩子的母亲,又是英国牧师的妻子,不是吹牛,我做人是讲道德的.克伦浦先生,只要我有力气撑下去,我决不逃避责任.有些人把头发灰白的老长辈气得害病"(别德太太说到这里挥挥手指着梳妆室里的架子,上面搁着克劳莱老小姐咖啡色的假刘海),"可是我呢,我决计不离开她.唉,克伦浦先生,恐怕病人除了医药之外还需要精神上的安慰呢!"     克伦浦也不放松,恭而敬之的插嘴道:"亲爱的太太,我刚才的话还没有说完.您的意思很好,使我非常佩服.我刚才要说的话,就是您用不着为咱们的好朋友这么担心,也用不着为她牺牲自己的健康."     别德太太接口说道:"为我的责任,为我丈夫家里的人,我不惜牺牲自己的性命."     克伦浦殷勤地答道:"太太,如果有这种需要,这样的精神是好的.可是我们并不希望别德.克劳莱太太过分苦了自己.关于克劳莱小姐的病,施贵尔医生和我已经仔细考虑过了,想来您也知道的.我们认为她神经紧张,没有兴致,这都是因为家里发生变故,受了刺激......"     别德太太叫道:"她的侄儿不得好死!"     "......受了刺激.您呢,亲爱的太太,像个护身神,......简直就是个护身神,在危急的时候来安慰她.可是施贵尔医生和我都觉得咱们的好朋友并不需要成天躺在床上.她心里烦恼......可是关在房里只会加重她的烦恼.她需要换换环境,呼吸新鲜空气,找点儿消遣.药书上最灵验的方子不过是这样."说到这里克伦浦先生露出漂亮的牙齿笑了一笑道:"亲爱的太太,劝她起来散淡散淡,把她从床上拉下来,想法子给她开个心.拖她出去坐马车兜兜风.别德.克劳莱太太,请原谅我这么说,这样一来,连您的脸上也能恢复从前的红颜色了."     别德太太不小心露出马脚,把自私的打算招供出来了.她说:"我听说她可恶的侄儿常常坐了马车在公园里兜风,和他一块儿干坏事的没脸女人跟着他.克劳莱小姐看见这混帐东西满不在乎的在公园里玩儿,准会气得重新害病,可不是又得睡到床上去了吗?克伦浦先生,她不能出去.只要我在这儿一天,我就一天不让她出去.至于我的身子,那可算什么呢?我自己愿意为责任而献出健康."     克伦浦先生不客气的答道:"说实话,太太,如果她老给锁在黑漆漆的房间里,以后如果有什么危险,我不能担保.她现在紧张得随时有性命危险.我老老实实的警告您,太太,如果您愿意克劳莱上尉承继她的遗产,您这样正是帮他的忙."     别德太太叫道:"天哪!她有性命危险吗?嗳唷,克伦浦先生,你怎么不早告诉我呢?"     前一天晚上,施贵尔医生和克伦浦先生在兰平.华伦爵士(兰平.华伦(Ｌａｎｉｎ　Ｗａｒｒｅｎ),一窝兔子的意思,表示他子女众多.)家里等候替他夫人接生第十三个小宝宝,两个人一面喝酒,一面谈论克劳莱小姐的病情.     施贵尔医生道:"克伦浦,汉泊郡来的那女人真是个贪心辣手的家伙.她这一下可把蒂莱.克劳莱这老奶奶抓住了.这西班牙白酒不错."     克伦浦答道:"罗登.克劳莱真是个傻瓜,怎么会去娶个穷教师.不过那女孩子倒有点儿动人的地方."     施贵尔道:"绿眼睛,白皮肤,身材不错,胸部长的非常饱满.的确是有点儿动人的地方.克劳莱也的确是个傻瓜,克伦浦."     助手答道:"他一向是个大傻瓜."     医生又道:"老奶奶当然不要他了."半晌他又说:"她死后,传下来的家私大概不少."     克伦浦嬉皮笑脸的说:"死!我宁可少拿两百镑一年,也不愿意她死."     施贵尔道:"克伦浦好小子,汉泊郡的婆娘如果留在她身边,两个月就能送她的命.老太婆年纪大......吃的多......容易紧张......心跳......血压高......中风......就完蛋啦.克伦浦,叫她走,叫她滚,要不然的话,你那两百镑一年就靠不住了,还抵不过我几星期的收入呢."他那好助手得了他这个指示,才和别德.克劳莱太太老实不客气的把话说了个透亮.     老太太躺在床上不能起身,旁边又没有别的亲人,可以说完全捏在别德太太的手心里.牧师的女人已经好几回向她开口,要她改写遗嘱.老太太一听见这么丧谤的话儿,怕死的心思比平常又加添了几分.别德太太觉得要完成她神圣的任务,先得使病人身体健朗,精神愉快.这么一来,问题又来了,把她带到什么地方去呢?混帐的罗登夫妻不到的地方只有教堂,然而别德太太是明白人,知道克劳莱小姐决不会喜欢到教堂里去.她想:"还是到伦敦郊外去散散心吧,据说郊外的风景像画儿一样好看,是全世界最有名的."于是她忽然兴致勃发,要上汉泊斯戴特和霍恩塞去逛逛,并且说她多么喜欢德尔威治的风景.她扶着病人坐在马车里,一同到野外去,一路上讲着罗登两口儿的各种故事替老太太解闷,凡是能使克劳莱小姐痛恨那两个混帐东西的事情,一件也没有漏掉.     也许别德太太过分小心,把克劳莱小姐管得太紧了.病人虽然受她的影响,当真嫌弃了忤逆的侄儿,可是觉得自己落在她手掌之中,心里不但恼怒,而且暗暗的害怕,巴不得一时离开她才好.不久,克劳莱小姐说什么也不肯再上哈依该脱和霍恩塞,一定要上公园.别德太太知道她们准会碰见可恨的罗登;果然不出她所料.一天,她们在圆场里看见罗登驾着轻便马车远远而来,利蓓加坐在他的旁边.罗登他们看见敌人的马车里,克劳莱小姐坐在本来的位子上,别德太太坐在她左边,布立葛丝带着小狗坐在倒座上.真是紧张的一刹那!利蓓加看见马车,一颗心已在扑扑的跳,两辆车拍面相交的当儿,她做出热爱关心的样子瞧着老小姐,紧紧的握着两手,仿佛心里十分难过.罗登也紧张得发抖,染过的胡子下面遮着的一张脸紫涨起来.对面的马车里只有布立葛丝觉得激动,睁大眼睛不知所措的瞪着从前的老朋友.克劳莱小姐的样子很坚定,回过头看着园里的蛇纹石.别德太太正在逗小狗玩耍,叫它小宝贝,小心肝,玩得出神.两辆车各走各路又分开了.     罗登对妻子说:"咳,完了!"     利蓓加答道:"罗登,再试一次.你能不能把咱们的车轮子扣住她们的,亲爱的?"     罗登没有这么大的勇气.两辆车重新碰头的时候,他站起来瞪大眼使劲望着这边,举起手来准备脱帽子.这一回,克劳莱小姐并没把脸回过去,她和别德太太狠狠的瞪着罗登,只做不认识.他咒骂了一声,只能又坐下去,把车赶出圆场,灰心丧气的回家去了.     这一下,别德太太打了一个了不起的大胜仗.可是她看见克劳莱小姐那么紧张,觉得常常和罗登他们见面是不妥当的.她出主意说她亲爱的朋友身体不好,必须离开伦敦,竭力劝她到布拉依顿去住一阵子.