CHAPTER XXXVII The Subject Continued In the first place, and as a matter of the greatest necessity, we are bound to describe how a house may be got for nothing a year. These mansions are to be had either unfurnished, where, if you have credit with Messrs. Gillows or Bantings, you can get them splendidly montees and decorated entirely according to your own fancy; or they are to be let furnished, a less troublesome and complicated arrangement to most parties. It was so that Crawley and his wife preferred to hire their house. Before Mr. Bowls came to preside over Miss Crawley's house and cellar in Park Lane, that lady had had for a butler a Mr. Raggles, who was born on the family estate of Queen's Crawley, and indeed was a younger son of a gardener there. By good conduct, a handsome person and calves, and a grave demeanour, Raggles rose from the knife-board to the footboard of the carriage; from the footboard to the butler's pantry. When he had been a certain number of years at the head of Miss Crawley's establishment, where he had had good wages, fat perquisites, and plenty of opportunities of saving, he announced that he was about to contract a matrimonial alliance with a late cook of Miss Crawley's, who had subsisted in an honourable manner by the exercise of a mangle, and the keeping of a small greengrocer's shop in the neighbourhood. The truth is, that the ceremony had been clandestinely performed some years back; although the news of Mr. Raggles' marriage was first brought to Miss Crawley by a little boy and girl of seven and eight years of age, whose continual presence in the kitchen had attracted the attention of Miss Briggs. Mr. Raggles then retired and personally undertook the superintendence of the small shop and the greens. He added milk and cream, eggs and country-fed pork to his stores, contenting himself whilst other retired butlers were vending spirits in public houses, by dealing in the simplest country produce. And having a good connection amongst the butlers in the neighbourhood, and a snug back parlour where he and Mrs. Raggles received them, his milk, cream, and eggs got to be adopted by many of the fraternity, and his profits increased every year. Year after year he quietly and modestly amassed money, and when at length that snug and complete bachelor's residence at No. 201, Curzon Street, May Fair, lately the residence of the Honourable Frederick Deuceace, gone abroad, with its rich and appropriate furniture by the first makers, was brought to the hammer, who should go in and purchase the lease and furniture of the house but Charles Raggles? A part of the money he borrowed, it is true, and at rather a high interest, from a brother butler, but the chief part he paid down, and it was with no small pride that Mrs. Raggles found herself sleeping in a bed of carved mahogany, with silk curtains, with a prodigious cheval glass opposite to her, and a wardrobe which would contain her, and Raggles, and all the family. Of course, they did not intend to occupy permanently an apartment so splendid. It was in order to let the house again that Raggles purchased it. As soon as a tenant was found, he subsided into the greengrocer's shop once more; but a happy thing it was for him to walk out of that tenement and into Curzon Street, and there survey his house--his own house--with geraniums in the window and a carved bronze knocker. The footman occasionally lounging at the area railing, treated him with respect; the cook took her green stuff at his house and called him Mr. Landlord, and there was not one thing the tenants did, or one dish which they had for dinner, that Raggles might not know of, if he liked. He was a good man; good and happy. The house brought him in so handsome a yearly income that he was determined to send his children to good schools, and accordingly, regardless of expense, Charles was sent to boarding at Dr. Swishtail's, Sugar-cane Lodge, and little Matilda to Miss Peckover's, Laurentinum House, Clapham. Raggles loved and adored the Crawley family as the author of all his prosperity in life. He had a silhouette of his mistress in his back shop, and a drawing of the Porter's Lodge at Queen's Crawley, done by that spinster herself in India ink--and the only addition he made to the decorations of the Curzon Street House was a print of Queen's Crawley in Hampshire, the seat of Sir Walpole Crawley, Baronet, who was represented in a gilded car drawn by six white horses, and passing by a lake covered with swans, and barges containing ladies in hoops, and musicians with flags and penwigs. Indeed Raggles thought there was no such palace in all the world, and no such august family. As luck would have it, Raggles' house in Curzon Street was to let when Rawdon and his wife returned to London. The Colonel knew it and its owner quite well; the latter's connection with the Crawley family had been kept up constantly, for Raggles helped Mr. Bowls whenever Miss Crawley received friends. And the old man not only let his house to the Colonel but officiated as his butler whenever he had company; Mrs. Raggles operating in the kitchen below and sending up dinners of which old Miss Crawley herself might have approved. This was the way, then, Crawley got his house for nothing; for though Raggles had to pay taxes and rates, and the interest of the mortgage to the brother butler; and the insurance of his life; and the charges for his children at school; and the value of the meat and drink which his own family--and for a time that of Colonel Crawley too--consumed; and though the poor wretch was utterly ruined by the transaction, his children being flung on the streets, and himself driven into the Fleet Prison: yet somebody must pay even for gentlemen who live for nothing a year--and so it was this unlucky Raggles was made the representative of Colonel Crawley's defective capital. I wonder how many families are driven to roguery and to ruin by great practitioners in Crawlers way?--how many great noblemen rob their petty tradesmen, condescend to swindle their poor retainers out of wretched little sums and cheat for a few shillings? When we read that a noble nobleman has left for the Continent, or that another noble nobleman has an execution in his house--and that one or other owes six or seven millions, the defeat seems glorious even, and we respect the victim in the vastness of his ruin. But who pities a poor barber who can't get his money for powdering the footmen's heads; or a poor carpenter who has ruined himself by fixing up ornaments and pavilions for my lady's dejeuner; or the poor devil of a tailor whom the steward patronizes, and who has pledged all he is worth, and more, to get the liveries ready, which my lord has done him the honour to bespeak? When the great house tumbles down, these miserable wretches fall under it unnoticed: as they say in the old legends, before a man goes to the devil himself, he sends plenty of other souls thither. Rawdon and his wife generously gave their patronage to all such of Miss Crawley's tradesmen and purveyors as chose to serve them. Some were willing enough, especially the poor ones. It was wonderful to see the pertinacity with which the washerwoman from Tooting brought the cart every Saturday, and her bills week after week. Mr. Raggles himself had to supply the greengroceries. The bill for servants' porter at the Fortune of War public house is a curiosity in the chronicles of beer. Every servant also was owed the greater part of his wages, and thus kept up perforce an interest in the house. Nobody in fact was paid. Not the blacksmith who opened the lock; nor the glazier who mended the pane; nor the jobber who let the carriage; nor the groom who drove it; nor the butcher who provided the leg of mutton; nor the coals which roasted it; nor the cook who basted it; nor the servants who ate it: and this I am given to understand is not unfrequently the way in which people live elegantly on nothing a year. In a little town such things cannot be done without remark. We know there the quantity of milk our neighbour takes and espy the joint or the fowls which are going in for his dinner. So, probably, 200 and 202 in Curzon Street might know what was going on in the house between them, the servants communicating through the area-railings; but Crawley and his wife and his friends did not know 200 and 202. When you came to 201 there was a hearty welcome, a kind smile, a good dinner, and a jolly shake of the hand from the host and hostess there, just for all the world as if they had been undisputed masters of three or four thousand a year--and so they were, not in money, but in produce and labour--if they did not pay for the mutton, they had it: if they did not give bullion in exchange for their wine, how should we know? Never was better claret at any man's table than at honest Rawdon's; dinners more gay and neatly served. His drawing-rooms were the prettiest, little, modest salons conceivable: they were decorated with the greatest taste, and a thousand knick- knacks from Paris, by Rebecca: and when she sat at her piano trilling songs with a lightsome heart, the stranger voted himself in a little paradise of domestic comfort and agreed that, if the husband was rather stupid, the wife was charming, and the dinners the pleasantest in the world. Rebecca's wit, cleverness, and flippancy made her speedily the vogue in London among a certain class. You saw demure chariots at her door, out of which stepped very great people. You beheld her carriage in the park, surrounded by dandies of note. The little box in the third tier of the opera was crowded with heads constantly changing; but it must be confessed that the ladies held aloof from her, and that their doors were shut to our little adventurer. With regard to the world of female fashion and its customs, the present writer of course can only speak at second hand. A man can no more penetrate or under-stand those mysteries than he can know what the ladies talk about when they go upstairs after dinner. It is only by inquiry and perseverance that one sometimes gets hints of those secrets; and by a similar diligence every person who treads the Pall Mall pavement and frequents the clubs of this metropolis knows, either through his own experience or through some acquaintance with whom he plays at billiards or shares the joint, something about the genteel world of London, and how, as there are men (such as Rawdon Crawley, whose position we mentioned before) who cut a good figure to the eyes of the ignorant world and to the apprentices in the park, who behold them consorting with the most notorious dandies there, so there are ladies, who may be called men's women, being welcomed entirely by all the gentlemen and cut or slighted by all their wives. Mrs. Firebrace is of this sort; the lady with the beautiful fair ringlets whom you see every day in Hyde Park, surrounded by the greatest and most famous dandies of this empire. Mrs. Rockwood is another, whose parties are announced laboriously in the fashionable newspapers and with whom you see that all sorts of ambassadors and great noblemen dine; and many more might be mentioned had they to do with the history at present in hand. But while simple folks who are out of the world, or country people with a taste for the genteel, behold these ladies in their seeming glory in public places, or envy them from afar off, persons who are better instructed could inform them that these envied ladies have no more chance of establishing themselves in "society," than the benighted squire's wife in Somersetshire who reads of their doings in the Morning Post. Men living about London are aware of these awful truths. You hear how pitilessly many ladies of seeming rank and wealth are excluded from this "society." The frantic efforts which they make to enter this circle, the meannesses to which they submit, the insults which they undergo, are matters of wonder to those who take human or womankind for a study; and the pursuit of fashion under difficulties would be a fine theme for any very great person who had the wit, the leisure, and the knowledge of the English language necessary for the compiling of such a history. Now the few female acquaintances whom Mrs. Crawley had known abroad not only declined to visit her when she came to this side of the Channel, but cut her severely when they met in public places. It was curious to see how the great ladies forgot her, and no doubt not altogether a pleasant study to Rebecca. When Lady Bareacres met her in the waiting-room at the opera, she gathered her daughters about her as if they would be contaminated by a touch of Becky, and retreating a step or two, placed herself in front of them, and stared at her little enemy. To stare Becky out of countenance required a severer glance than even the frigid old Bareacres could shoot out of her dismal eyes. When Lady de la Mole, who had ridden a score of times by Becky's side at Brussels, met Mrs. Crawley's open carriage in Hyde Park, her Ladyship was quite blind, and could not in the least recognize her former friend. Even Mrs. Blenkinsop, the banker's wife, cut her at church. Becky went regularly to church now; it was edifying to see her enter there with Rawdon by her side, carrying a couple of large gilt prayer-books, and afterwards going through the ceremony with the gravest resignation. Rawdon at first felt very acutely the slights which were passed upon his wife, and was inclined to be gloomy and savage. He talked of calling out the husbands or brothers of every one of the insolent women who did not pay a proper respect to his wife; and it was only by the strongest commands and entreaties on her part that he was brought into keeping a decent behaviour. "You can't shoot me into society," she said good-naturedly. "Remember, my dear, that I was but a governess, and you, you poor silly old man, have the worst reputation for debt, and dice, and all sorts of wickedness. We shall get quite as many friends as we want by and by, and in the meanwhile you must be a good boy and obey your schoolmistress in everything she tells you to do. When we heard that your aunt had left almost everything to Pitt and his wife, do you remember what a rage you were in? You would have told all Paris, if I had not made you keep your temper, and where would you have been now?--in prison at Ste. Pelagie for debt, and not established in London in a handsome house, with every comfort about you--you were in such a fury you were ready to murder your brother, you wicked Cain you, and what good would have come of remaining angry? All the rage in the world won't get us your aunt's money; and it is much better that we should be friends with your brother's family than enemies, as those foolish Butes are. When your father dies, Queen's Crawley will be a pleasant house for you and me to pass the winter in. If we are ruined, you can carve and take charge of the stable, and I can be a governess to Lady Jane's children. Ruined! fiddlede-dee! I will get you a good place before that; or Pitt and his little boy will die, and we will be Sir Rawdon and my lady. While there is life, there is hope, my dear, and I intend to make a man of you yet. Who sold your horses for you? Who paid your debts for you?" Rawdon was obliged to confess that he owed all these benefits to his wife, and to trust himself to her guidance for the future. Indeed, when Miss Crawley quitted the world, and that money for which all her relatives had been fighting so eagerly was finally left to Pitt, Bute Crawley, who found that only five thousand pounds had been left to him instead of the twenty upon which he calculated, was in such a fury at his disappointment that he vented it in savage abuse upon his nephew; and the quarrel always rankling between them ended in an utter breach of intercourse. Rawdon Crawley's conduct, on the other hand, who got but a hundred pounds, was such as to astonish his brother and delight his sister-in-law, who was disposed to look kindly upon all the members of her husband's family. He wrote to his brother a very frank, manly, good-humoured letter from Paris. He was aware, he said, that by his own marriage he had forfeited his aunt's favour; and though he did not disguise his disappointment that she should have been so entirely relentless towards him, he was glad that the money was still kept in their branch of the family, and heartily congratulated his brother on his good fortune. He sent his affectionate remembrances to his sister, and hoped to have her good-will for Mrs. Rawdon; and the letter concluded with a postscript to Pitt in the latter lady's own handwriting. She, too, begged to join in her husband's congratulations. She should ever remember Mr. Crawley's kindness to her in early days when she was a friendless orphan, the instructress of his little sisters, in whose welfare she still took the tenderest interest. She wished him every happiness in his married life, and, asking his permission to offer her remembrances to Lady Jane (of whose goodness all the world informed her), she hoped that one day she might be allowed to present her little boy to his uncle and aunt, and begged to bespeak for him their good-will and protection. Pitt Crawley received this communication very graciously--more graciously than Miss Crawley had received some of Rebecca's previous compositions in Rawdon's handwriting; and as for Lady Jane, she was so charmed with the letter that she expected her husband would instantly divide his aunt's legacy into two equal portions and send off one-half to his brother at Paris. To her Ladyship's surprise, however, Pitt declined to accommodate his brother with a cheque for thirty thousand pounds. But he made Rawdon a handsome offer of his hand whenever the latter should come to England and choose to take it; and, thanking Mrs. Crawley for her good opinion of himself and Lady Jane, he graciously pronounced his willingness to take any opportunity to serve her little boy. Thus an almost reconciliation was brought about between the brothers. When Rebecca came to town Pitt and his wife were not in London. Many a time she drove by the old door in Park Lane to see whether they had taken possession of Miss Crawley's house there. But the new family did not make its appearance; it was only through Raggles that she heard of their movements--how Miss Crawley's domestics had been dismissed with decent gratuities, and how Mr. Pitt had only once made his appearance in London, when he stopped for a few days at the house, did business with his lawyers there, and sold off all Miss Crawley's French novels to a bookseller out of Bond Street. Becky had reasons of her own which caused her to long for the arrival of her new relation. "When Lady Jane comes," thought she, "she shall be my sponsor in London society; and as for the women! bah! the women will ask me when they find the men want to see me." An article as necessary to a lady in this position as her brougham or her bouquet is her companion. I have always admired the way in which the tender creatures, who cannot exist without sympathy, hire an exceedingly plain friend of their own sex from whom they are almost inseparable. The sight of that inevitable woman in her faded gown seated behind her dear friend in the opera-box, or occupying the back seat of the barouche, is always a wholesome and moral one to me, as jolly a reminder as that of the Death's-head which figured in the repasts of Egyptian bon-vivants, a strange sardonic memorial of Vanity Fair. What? even battered, brazen, beautiful, conscienceless, heartless, Mrs. Firebrace, whose father died of her shame: even lovely, daring Mrs. Mantrap, who will ride at any fence which any man in England will take, and who drives her greys in the park, while her mother keeps a huckster's stall in Bath still--even those who are so bold, one might fancy they could face anything dare not face the world without a female friend. They must have somebody to cling to, the affectionate creatures! And you will hardly see them in any public place without a shabby companion in a dyed silk, sitting somewhere in the shade close behind them. "Rawdon," said Becky, very late one night, as a party of gentlemen were seated round her crackling drawing-room fire (for the men came to her house to finish the night; and she had ice and coffee for them, the best in London): "I must have a sheep-dog." "A what?" said Rawdon, looking up from an ecarte table. "A sheep-dog!" said young Lord Southdown. "My dear Mrs. Crawley, what a fancy! Why not have a Danish dog? I know of one as big as a camel-leopard, by Jove. It would almost pull your brougham. Or a Persian greyhound, eh? (I propose, if you please); or a little pug that would go into one of Lord Steyne's snuff-boxes? There's a man at Bayswater got one with such a nose that you might--I mark the king and play--that you might hang your hat on it." "I mark the trick," Rawdon gravely said. He attended to his game commonly and didn't much meddle with the conversation, except when it was about horses and betting. "What CAN you want with a shepherd's dog?" the lively little Southdown continued. "I mean a MORAL shepherd's dog," said Becky, laughing and looking up at Lord Steyne. "What the devil's that?" said his Lordship. "A dog to keep the wolves off me," Rebecca continued. "A companion." "Dear little innocent lamb, you want one," said the marquis; and his jaw thrust out, and he began to grin hideously, his little eyes leering towards Rebecca. The great Lord of Steyne was standing by the fire sipping coffee. The fire crackled and blazed pleasantly There was a score of candles sparkling round the mantel piece, in all sorts of quaint sconces, of gilt and bronze and porcelain. They lighted up Rebecca's figure to admiration, as she sat on a sofa covered with a pattern of gaudy flowers. She was in a pink dress that looked as fresh as a rose; her dazzling white arms and shoulders were half-covered with a thin hazy scarf through which they sparkled; her hair hung in curls round her neck; one of her little feet peeped out from the fresh crisp folds of the silk: the prettiest little foot in the prettiest little sandal in the finest silk stocking in the world. The candles lighted up Lord Steyne's shining bald head, which was fringed with red hair. He had thick bushy eyebrows, with little twinkling bloodshot eyes, surrounded by a thousand wrinkles. His jaw was underhung, and when he laughed, two white buck-teeth protruded themselves and glistened savagely in the midst of the grin. He had been dining with royal personages, and wore his garter and ribbon. A short man was his Lordship, broad-chested and bow- legged, but proud of the fineness of his foot and ankle, and always caressing his garter-knee. "And so the shepherd is not enough," said he, "to defend his lambkin?" "The shepherd is too fond of playing at cards and going to his clubs," answered Becky, laughing. "'Gad, what a debauched Corydon!" said my lord--"what a mouth for a pipe!" "I take your three to two," here said Rawdon, at the card-table. "Hark at Meliboeus," snarled the noble marquis; "he's pastorally occupied too: he's shearing a Southdown. What an innocent mutton, hey? Damme, what a snowy fleece!" Rebecca's eyes shot out gleams of scornful humour. "My lord," she said, "you are a knight of the Order." He had the collar round his neck, indeed--a gift of the restored princes of Spain. Lord Steyne in early life had been notorious for his daring and his success at play. He had sat up two days and two nights with Mr. Fox at hazard. He had won money of the most august personages of the realm: he had won his marquisate, it was said, at the gaming-table; but he did not like an allusion to those bygone fredaines. Rebecca saw the scowl gathering over his heavy brow. She rose up from her sofa and went and took his coffee cup out of his hand with a little curtsey. "Yes," she said, "I must get a watchdog. But he won't bark at YOU." And, going into the other drawing-room, she sat down to the piano and began to sing little French songs in such a charming, thrilling voice that the mollified nobleman speedily followed her into that chamber, and might be seen nodding his head and bowing time over her. Rawdon and his friend meanwhile played ecarte until they had enough. The Colonel won; but, say that he won ever so much and often, nights like these, which occurred many times in the week--his wife having all the talk and all the admiration, and he sitting silent without the circle, not comprehending a word of the jokes, the allusions, the mystical language within--must have been rather wearisome to the ex-dragoon. "How is Mrs. Crawley's husband?" Lord Steyne used to say to him by way of a good day when they met; and indeed that was now his avocation in life. He was Colonel Crawley no more. He was Mrs. Crawley's husband. About the little Rawdon, if nothing has been said all this while, it is because he is hidden upstairs in a garret somewhere, or has crawled below into the kitchen for companionship. His mother scarcely ever took notice of him. He passed the days with his French bonne as long as that domestic remained in Mr. Crawley's family, and when the Frenchwoman went away, the little fellow, howling in the loneliness of the night, had compassion taken on him by a housemaid, who took him out of his solitary nursery into her bed in the garret hard by and comforted him. Rebecca, my Lord Steyne, and one or two more were in the drawing- room taking tea after the opera, when this shouting was heard overhead. "It's my cherub crying for his nurse," she said. She did not offer to move to go and see the child. "Don't agitate your feelings by going to look for him," said Lord Steyne sardonically. "Bah!" replied the other, with a sort of blush, "he'll cry himself to sleep"; and they fell to talking about the opera. Rawdon had stolen off though, to look after his son and heir; and came back to the company when he found that honest Dolly was consoling the child. The Colonel's dressing-room was in those upper regions. He used to see the boy there in private. They had interviews together every morning when he shaved; Rawdon minor sitting on a box by his father's side and watching the operation with never-ceasing pleasure. He and the sire were great friends. The father would bring him sweetmeats from the dessert and hide them in a certain old epaulet box, where the child went to seek them, and laughed with joy on discovering the treasure; laughed, but not too loud: for mamma was below asleep and must not be disturbed. She did not go to rest till very late and seldom rose till after noon. Rawdon bought the boy plenty of picture-books and crammed his nursery with toys. Its walls were covered with pictures pasted up by the father's own hand and purchased by him for ready money. When he was off duty with Mrs. Rawdon in the park, he would sit up here, passing hours with the boy; who rode on his chest, who pulled his great mustachios as if they were driving-reins, and spent days with him in indefatigable gambols. The room was a low room, and once, when the child was not five years old, his father, who was tossing him wildly up in his arms, hit the poor little chap's skull so violently against the ceiling that he almost dropped the child, so terrified was he at the disaster. Rawdon minor had made up his face for a tremendous howl--the severity of the blow indeed authorized that indulgence; but just as he was going to begin, the father interposed. "For God's sake, Rawdy, don't wake Mamma," he cried. And the child, looking in a very hard and piteous way at his father, bit his lips, clenched his hands, and didn't cry a bit. Rawdon told that story at the clubs, at the mess, to everybody in town. "By Gad, sir," he explained to the public in general, "what a good plucked one that boy of mine is--what a trump he is! I half-sent his head through the ceiling, by Gad, and he wouldn't cry for fear of disturbing his mother." Sometimes--once or twice in a week--that lady visited the upper regions in which the child lived. She came like a vivified figure out of the Magasin des Modes--blandly smiling in the most beautiful new clothes and little gloves and boots. Wonderful scarfs, laces, and jewels glittered about her. She had always a new bonnet on, and flowers bloomed perpetually in it, or else magnificent curling ostrich feathers, soft and snowy as camellias. She nodded twice or thrice patronizingly to the little boy, who looked up from his dinner or from the pictures of soldiers he was painting. When she left the room, an odour of rose, or some other magical fragrance, lingered about the nursery. She was an unearthly being in his eyes, superior to his father--to all the world: to be worshipped and admired at a distance. To drive with that lady in the carriage was an awful rite: he sat up in the back seat and did not dare to speak: he gazed with all his eyes at the beautifully dressed Princess opposite to him. Gentlemen on splendid prancing horses came up and smiled and talked with her. How her eyes beamed upon all of them! Her hand used to quiver and wave gracefully as they passed. When he went out with her he had his new red dress on. His old brown holland was good enough when he stayed at home. Sometimes, when she was away, and Dolly his maid was making his bed, he came into his mother's room. It was as the abode of a fairy to him--a mystic chamber of splendour and delights. There in the wardrobe hung those wonderful robes--pink and blue and many-tinted. There was the jewel-case, silver-clasped, and the wondrous bronze hand on the dressing-table, glistening all over with a hundred rings. There was the cheval-glass, that miracle of art, in which he could just see his own wondering head and the reflection of Dolly (queerly distorted, and as if up in the ceiling), plumping and patting the pillows of the bed. Oh, thou poor lonely little benighted boy! Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children; and here was one who was worshipping a stone! Now Rawdon Crawley, rascal as the Colonel was, had certain manly tendencies of affection in his heart and could love a child and a woman still. For Rawdon minor he had a great secret tenderness then, which did not escape Rebecca, though she did not talk about it to her husband. It did not annoy her: she was too good-natured. It only increased her scorn for him. He felt somehow ashamed of this paternal softness and hid it from his wife--only indulging in it when alone with the boy. He used to take him out of mornings when they would go to the stables together and to the park. Little Lord Southdown, the best- natured of men, who would make you a present of the hat from his head, and whose main occupation in life was to buy knick-knacks that he might give them away afterwards, bought the little chap a pony not much bigger than a large rat, the donor said, and on this little black Shetland pygmy young Rawdon's great father was pleased to mount the boy, and to walk by his side in the park. It pleased him to see his old quarters, and his old fellow-guardsmen at Knightsbridge: he had begun to think of his bachelorhood with something like regret. The old troopers were glad to recognize their ancient officer and dandle the little colonel. Colonel Crawley found dining at mess and with his brother-officers very pleasant. "Hang it, I ain't clever enough for her--I know it. She won't miss me," he used to say: and he was right, his wife did not miss him. Rebecca was fond of her husband. She was always perfectly good- humoured and kind to him. She did not even show her scorn much for him; perhaps she liked him the better for being a fool. He was her upper servant and maitre d'hotel. He went on her errands; obeyed her orders without question; drove in the carriage in the ring with her without repining; took her to the opera-box, solaced himself at his club during the performance, and came punctually back to fetch her when due. He would have liked her to be a little fonder of the boy, but even to that he reconciled himself. "Hang it, you know she's so clever," he said, "and I'm not literary and that, you know." For, as we have said before, it requires no great wisdom to be able to win at cards and billiards, and Rawdon made no pretensions to any other sort of skill. When the companion came, his domestic duties became very light. His wife encouraged him to dine abroad: she would let him off duty at the opera. "Don't stay and stupefy yourself at home to-night, my dear," she would say. "Some men are coming who will only bore you. I would not ask them, but you know it's for your good, and now I have a sheep-dog, I need not be afraid to be alone." "A sheep-dog--a companion! Becky Sharp with a companion! Isn't it good fun?" thought Mrs. Crawley to herself. The notion tickled hugely her sense of humour. One Sunday morning, as Rawdon Crawley, his little son, and the pony were taking their accustomed walk in the park, they passed by an old acquaintance of the Colonel's, Corporal Clink, of the regiment, who was in conversation with a friend, an old gentleman, who held a boy in his arms about the age of little Rawdon. This other youngster had seized hold of the Waterloo medal which the Corporal wore, and was examining it with delight. "Good morning, your Honour," said Clink, in reply to the "How do, Clink?" of the Colonel. "This ere young gentleman is about the little Colonel's age, sir," continued the corporal. "His father was a Waterloo man, too," said the old gentleman, who carried the boy. "Wasn't he, Georgy?" "Yes," said Georgy. He and the little chap on the pony were looking at each other with all their might--solemnly scanning each other as children do. "In a line regiment," Clink said with a patronizing air. "He was a Captain in the --th regiment," said the old gentleman rather pompously. "Captain George Osborne, sir--perhaps you knew him. He died the death of a hero, sir, fighting against the Corsican tyrant." Colonel Crawley blushed quite red. "I knew him very well, sir," he said, "and his wife, his dear little wife, sir-- how is she?" "She is my daughter, sir," said the old gentleman, putting down the boy and taking out a card with great solemnity, which he handed to the Colonel. On it written-- "Mr. Sedley, Sole Agent for the Black Diamond and Anti-Cinder Coal Association, Bunker's Wharf, Thames Street, and Anna-Maria Cottages, Fulham Road West." Little Georgy went up and looked at the Shetland pony. "Should you like to have a ride?" said Rawdon minor from the saddle. "Yes," said Georgy. The Colonel, who had been looking at him with some interest, took up the child and put him on the pony behind Rawdon minor. "Take hold of him, Georgy," he said--"take my little boy round the waist--his name is Rawdon." And both the children began to laugh. "You won't see a prettier pair I think, THIS summer's day, sir," said the good-natured Corporal; and the Colonel, the Corporal, and old Mr. Sedley with his umbrella, walked by the side of the children. 第 三 十 七 章    还是本来的题目     最要紧的,我们先得描写怎么能够不出钱租房子.出租的房屋分两种:一种是不连家具的,只要吉洛士的铺子或是班丁的铺子肯让你赊账,你就能完全依照自己的意思把屋子富丽堂皇的装璜陈设起来;第二种是连家具出租的,租这种房子,为大家都省事省麻烦.克劳莱夫妇愿意租的就是这一种.     鲍尔斯在派克街管酒窖当听差头脑之前,克劳莱小姐曾经雇过一个拉哥尔斯先生.他生长在女王的克劳莱庄地上,原是本家花匠的小儿子.他品行端方,举止庄重,相貌长得整齐,小腿生得匀称,因此渐渐从洗刀叉的打杂做到站在马车背后的跟班,一直升到掌管酒窖和伙食房的总管.他在克劳莱小姐府上做了几年管事,工钱又大,外快又多,攒钱的机会也不少,便公开说要和克劳莱小姐以前的厨娘结婚.这厨娘相当有体面;她有一架轧布机,附近还开了一家小小的菜蔬铺子,靠着过活.事实上他们好几年前就秘密结了婚,不过克劳莱小姐直到看见了一男一女两个孩子才知道拉哥尔斯先生成亲的事.这两个孩子一个八岁一个七岁,老在他们厨房里,引起了布立葛丝小姐的注意.     此后拉哥尔斯便退休了,亲自掌管着那菜蔬铺子.除掉蔬菜以外,他又卖牛奶.奶油.鸡子儿和乡下运来的猪肉.大多数退休的管事都开酒店卖酒,他却只卖乡下的土产.附近一带的管事们都和他相熟,而且他又有个舒服的后客厅,夫妇俩常常招待他们,所以他的同僚中人替他销去不少牛奶.奶油和鸡子儿;他的进益也就一年比一年多.他不声不响一点儿一点儿的攒钱,年年一样.梅飞厄的克生街二百零一号本来是一位弗莱特立克.杜西斯先生的公馆.这屋子很舒服,陈设也齐备,为单身汉子住家最合适.这位杜西斯先生出国去了;他这屋子的永久租赁权,连屋子里高手匠人特制的富丽合用的家具,都公开拍卖.你道出钱的是谁?竟是却尔斯.拉哥尔斯!当然,其中一部分的钱是他出了高利钱从另外一个总管那里借来的,可是大部分的钱都是自己拿出来.拉哥尔斯太太一旦睡上了镂花桃心木的床,眼看床上挂着丝绸的帐子,对面摆着大穿衣镜,衣橱大得可以把他们夫妻儿女一股脑儿都装进去,那得意就不用说了.     当然他们不准备永远住在这么讲究的房子里.拉哥尔斯买了房子是预备出租的.找着房客之后,他又搬回菜蔬铺子里去住.他从铺子里踱出来,到克生街上望望他的房子......他自己的房子......看见窗口摆着石榴红,门上装着镂花的铜门环,在他也是一件乐事.房客的听差有时懒洋洋的在栅栏旁闲逛,碰见他总对他非常尊敬.房客的厨娘在他店里买菜蔬,称他为房东先生.只要拉哥尔斯高兴打听,房客做什么事,吃什么菜,他都能知道.     他是个好人,也是个快乐的人.房子每年的租金非常可观,因此他决计把儿女送到像样的学校里去受教育.他不惜工本,让却尔斯到甘蔗庐斯威希退尔博士那里去上学.小玛蒂尔达呢,便进了克拉本区里劳伦铁纳姆大厦佩格渥佛小姐开的女学堂.     克劳莱一家使他致富,因此他爱他们敬他们.店铺的后客厅里挂着他女主人的侧影,还有一幅钢笔画,上面是女王的克劳莱大厦的门房,还是老小姐自己的手笔.在克生街的房子里他只添了一件摆设,就是从男爵华尔泊尔.克劳莱爵士在汉泊郡女王的克劳莱庄地上的行乐图.这是一幅石印画,从男爵本人坐在一辆镀金的马车里,驾着六匹白马经过湖边;湖上满是天鹅和小船;船里的太太小姐穿着大裙子,里面还撑着鲸骨圈,音乐家们戴着假头发,打着旗子.说实话,在拉哥尔斯看来,全世界最华美的宫殿和最高贵的世家都在这里.     事有凑巧,罗登夫妇回伦敦时,克生街上拉哥尔斯的屋子恰好空着.上校对于房子和房东都很熟悉,因为拉哥尔斯一向不断的在克劳莱家里走动,每逢克劳莱小姐请客,他就来帮忙鲍尔斯伺候客人.老头儿不但把房子租给上校,而且每逢上校请客就去替他当差;拉哥尔斯太太在底下厨房里做饭,送上去的菜肴连克劳莱老小姐都会赞赏的.这样,克劳莱一文不花的租得了房子.拉哥尔斯不但得付各种赋税和他同行总管抵押单上的利息,他自己的人寿保险费,孩子们的学杂费,一家老小的食用,而且有一段时期连克劳莱上校一家的食用也由他负担.因为这次交易,这可怜虫后来竟倾了家,他的两个孩子弄得流离失所,他自己也给关在弗利脱监狱里吃官司.原来悬空过日子的绅士也得别人代他开销家用;克劳莱上校背了债,倒楣的拉哥尔斯倒得代他受苦.     我常想不知有多少人家给克劳莱一类有本事的家伙害得倾家荡产,甚至于渐渐堕落,干坏事......不知有多少名门贵胄欺负小商人,不惜降低了身分去哄骗穷苦的厮养,诈他们几个小钱,为几个先令也肯耍不老实的把戏.当我们在报上看见某某贵人到欧洲大陆去了,某某勋爵的房屋充公了,其中一人甚至于欠了六七百万镑的债等等,往往觉得他们亏空得有光彩,因为能够欠这么一大笔钱,也是令人佩服的事.至于可怜的理发司务给他们家的听差梳头洒粉,结果白辛苦一场;可怜的木匠因为太太请早饭需要大篷帐和特别的陈设,把自己弄得精穷;还有那给总管当差的裁缝,那倒楣鬼,受了勋爵的嘱托,倾其所有,甚至于还借了债,给他们家的佣人做号衣......这些做买卖的有谁同情呢?显赫的世家一旦倒坍下来,这些可怜虫倒楣鬼就给压在下面,死了也没人看见.从前有个传说里面打的譬喻很对:将要掉在魔鬼手掌心里的人,惯常总要送些别的灵魂先去遭殃.     罗登夫妇十分慷慨,凡是以前和克劳莱小姐交易的商人和买办有愿意给他们效劳的,统统答应照顾.好些买卖人家,尤其是比较穷苦的,巴不得接这注生意.有个洗衣的女人每星期六赶着车子从都丁来,账单也是每星期带着,那坚韧不拔的精神真可佩服.他们家吃的菜蔬是拉哥尔斯先生自己供给的.下人喝的麦酒经常到运道酒店去赊,那账单在麦酒史上简直算得上是件希罕物儿.佣人的工钱也大半欠着,这样他们当然不肯走了.说实话,克劳莱家一样账都不付.开锁的铁匠,修窗子的玻璃匠,出租马车的车行主人,赶车的车夫,供给他们羊腿的屠户,卖煤给他们烤羊腿的煤店老板,在羊腿上洒粉铺盐滴油的厨子,吃羊腿的佣人,谁都拿不到钱.据说没有收入的人往往用这种方法过好日子.     在小市镇上,这类事情少不得引起别人的注意.邻居喝了多少牛奶,我们知道,他晚饭吃肉还是吃鸡吃鸭,我们也看见.克生街二百号和二百零二号的住户,有家里的佣人隔着栅栏传信,大概对于他们隔壁屋子里的情形知道得很清楚.好在克劳莱夫妇和他们的朋友并不认得这两家.你到二百零一号里去,主人和主妇脸上总挂着笑,诚诚恳恳的欢迎你,怪亲热的跟你拉手,还请你享用丰盛的酒菜.他们对所有的人都是这样,仿佛他们一年稳稳的有三四千镑进款.事实上他们虽然没有这么多现钱,享用的人力物力也确实抵得过这个数目.羊肉虽没有出钱去买,反正总有得吃;好酒虽然没有用金银去换,外面人也不会知道.老实的罗登家里请客,喝的红酒是最上等的,菜肴上得整齐,空气也融洽,谁家比得过他呢?他的客厅并不富丽,却是小巧精致,说不出有多好看.利蓓加把里面布置得非常文雅,搁了好些巴黎带回来的小摆设.陌生人看见她无忧无虑的坐在钢琴旁边唱歌,总觉得这是美满家庭,人间乐园,做丈夫的虽然蠢些,那妻子却实在可爱,而且每逢请客,都是宾主尽欢的.     利蓓加人又聪明,口角又俏皮,喜欢油嘴滑舌的说笑话,在伦敦自有一等人捧她,立刻就成了这些人里面的尖儿.她门前常常停着一辆辆马车,行止十分掩密,里面走出来的全是大阔人.她常常在公园兜风,马车旁边挤满了有名的花花公子.她在歌剧院三层楼有个小包厢,里面总有一大堆人,而且每次不同.可是说句实话,所有的太太看她不是正经货,从来不和她打交道.     关于太太小姐堆里的风气和习惯,写书的当然只能间接听见一些.这里面的奥妙,男人不能领会理解,譬如她们晚饭以后在楼上说些什么话,先生们就无从知道,这道理是一样的.你只有不断的细心打听,才能偶然长些见识.同样的,常在帕尔莫尔街上走动,在伦敦各个俱乐部里出入的人,只要肯下功夫,对于时髦场上的情形自然也会熟悉起来.有时是亲身的经验,有时是和人打弹子或吃饭听见的闲话,都能供给你不少资料.譬如说,天下有一种像罗登.克劳莱一类的家伙(他的身分上文已经表过),在一般局外人和那些呆在公园学时髦的新手看起来,真是非常了不起,因为他竟能和最出风头的花花公子混在一起.又有一种女人,先生们都欢迎,他们的太太却瞧不起,甚至于不理睬.法爱白蕾丝太太就属于这种人,你在海德公园每天都能看见她,一头美丽的金头发梳成一卷一卷,到东到西有国内最闻名的豪华公子们簇拥着.另外还有一个洛克乌德太太,每逢她请客,时髦的报纸上便细细的登载着宴会花絮,王公大使都是她的座上客.此外还有好些别的人,可是和本文无关,不必说了.好些不知世务的老实人,喜欢学时髦的乡下佬,看见她们摆的虚场面,远远的瞧着只觉得眼红,明白底细的人,却知道这些给人羡慕的太太原来在"上流社会"是一无地位的.在涩默赛脱郡的不见世面的地主老婆,当然只能在《晨报》上读读她们请客作乐的消息,可是两下里比较起来,她们踏进"上流社会"的机会并不能比乡下女人多些.这些可怕的事实,住在伦敦的人都知道.原来这类表面上尊荣富贵的夫人们毫不留情的给圈在"上流社会"之外.凡是研究心理学......尤其是女人的心理学......的人,看见她们千方百计的想挤进去,使尽多少下流的伎俩,受尽多少侮辱委屈,准会觉得奇怪.她们不怕艰难追求虚荣的故事,倒是写书的好题目.凡是笔下流利,文章写得俏皮,又有闲空,能够当得下这重任的大作家,不妨把这些事迹编录下来.     克劳莱太太在外国结交的几个朋友,一过了英吉利海峡,不但不来拜访她,而且在公共场所对她不瞅不睬.真奇怪,贵夫人们都不记得她了.利蓓加见她们把自己忘得这么快,自然很不高兴.有一回贝亚爱格思夫人在歌剧院的休息室里看见蓓基,立刻把女儿们叫拢来,仿佛一碰着蓓基便会沾污了她们.她退后一两步,站在女儿们前面,对她的冤家瞪着眼瞧.可惜连贝亚爱格思老太婆冷冰冰的态度和恶狠狠的眼光也还不能叫蓓基脸上下不来.特拉莫尔夫人在布鲁塞尔常常和蓓基一起坐着马车出去兜风,总有二十来次,不想到了海德公园,她明明碰见蓓基坐在敞篷车里,却像瞎了眼睛似的不认得老朋友了.连银行家的妻子白兰金索泊太太在教堂里遇见她也不打个招呼.如今蓓基按时上教堂,罗登手里拿着两大本金边圣书,跟在旁边.她态度端庄,一副逆来顺受的样子,叫人看着感动.     起初的时候,罗登见别人瞧不起他的妻子,心里又气又闷,十分难受.他说这些混帐的女人既然不尊敬他的妻子,他打算和她们的丈夫或是兄弟一个个决斗.还算蓓基软骗硬吓,才没有让他惹出祸来.她脾气真好,说道:"你不能靠放熗把我放进上流社会里去.亲爱的,别忘了我不过是个女教师,你这可怜的傻东西名誉又不好,人家都知道你爱赌,爱欠账,还有许多说不完的毛病.将来咱们爱交多少朋友都行,可是眼前呢,你得乖乖的听着老师的话,她叫你怎么着你就怎么着.你还记得吗?一起头的时候,咱们听说你姑妈把财产差不多一股脑儿都传给了毕脱夫妻俩,你多生气呀!若不是我叫你管着你那性子,整个巴黎都会知道这件事情了.然后怎么样?你准会给关进圣.贝拉齐监牢里去,因为你付不出账.到那时你还能回到伦敦来住好房子,过好日子吗?你,你这可恶的该隐(《圣经》中杀弟的恶人.)!气得恨不得把你哥哥马上杀死.生气有什么用?你生了天大的气也不能把姑妈的钱拿过来.跟你哥哥作对没有好处,还是交个朋友有用.咱们可不能像别德一家子那么糊涂.你父亲死了以后,我跟你可以上女王的克劳莱过冬,那房子舒服得很呢.倘或咱们弄得两手空空,你还能替他们切切鸡鸭,管管马房,我就做吉恩夫人孩子们的女教师.两手空空!哼哼!我总会给你找个好饭碗,再不,毕脱和他儿子也许会死掉,咱们就做罗登爵士和爵士夫人.亲爱的,一个人活着就有希望,我还打算叫你干一番事业呢.是谁替你卖了马,谁给你还了账的?"罗登只得承认这些都是妻子赏给他的恩惠,答应将来永远依照她的指示做人.     克劳莱小姐去世之后,亲戚们其势汹汹争夺的财产到了毕脱手里,别德.克劳莱原来预料可以得二万镑,结果只到手五千镑,失望气恼得发昏,只好把大侄儿毒骂一顿出气.他们两房本来一向心里不和,到那时便断绝来往了.罗登.克劳莱只拿到一百镑,而他的态度却大方得叫他哥哥诧异.他嫂子本来就对婆家的人很有好意,所以更觉得喜欢.罗登从巴黎寄给哥哥的信口气诚恳直爽,并没有表示半点不乐意.他说他早已知道由于婚姻问题失了姑妈的欢心;姑妈的狠心虽然使他失望,不过财产仍旧传给自己一支的近亲,总是好的.他诚诚心心的向哥哥道喜,又很亲热的问候嫂子,希望她将来提携自己的太太.信尾附着蓓基自己写给毕脱的几句话.她也跟他道喜;她说克劳莱先生从前十分照顾她那样一个无依无靠的孤儿,是她永远不会忘记的.她做女教师管教了毕脱的妹妹们一场,至今关心她们的前途.她希望他婚后快乐,请他代自己向吉恩夫人致意,说是到处听见别人称扬她的好处.她希望有一天能够带着儿子去拜望大伯和伯母,还恳求他们对于那孩子多多照应.     毕脱.克劳莱收到这封信,对弟弟弟妇这番好意很赞赏.从前克劳莱小姐也曾经收过好几封这样的信,全是利蓓加起了稿子叫罗登抄的,她可没有这样宽大.吉恩夫人看完了信,十分欢喜,以为她丈夫马上就会把姑母的遗产平分为二,送一半到巴黎给弟弟去花.     后来吉恩夫人很诧异,原来毕脱并不愿意送一张三万镑的支票给他弟弟,可是他很大方的回信说如果罗登回国以后需要他帮忙的话,他很愿意出力.他又向克劳莱太太表示感激她对自己和吉恩夫人的好意,侄儿将来需要照料,他当然肯尽力的.     这么一来,两兄弟差不多算是言归于好.利蓓加到伦敦的时候,毕脱夫妇不在城里.她时常特地赶着车走过派克街克劳莱小姐的房子,看他们有没有住进去,可是他们一家总不露脸,她只能在拉哥尔斯那里打听他们的动静.据说克劳莱小姐的佣人都得到丰厚的赏钱给打发掉了;毕脱先生只到伦敦来过一回,在公馆里耽搁了几天,和他律师办了些事情,把克劳莱小姐的法文小说统统都卖给邦德街上一家书铺子.蓓基急着要认新亲是有道理的.她想:"吉恩夫人末了之后,就能替我在伦敦上流社会里撑腰.哼!那些太太们发现男人爱跟我周旋,还能不请我吗?"     在她地位上的女人,除了马车和花球之外,到处跟着伺候的女伴也是必不可少的.那些温柔的小东西往往雇着相貌丑陋的女伴,形影不离的在一起,好像她们没有同情就不能活下去,我看了非常赞赏.做伴儿的穿着褪色的旧衣裳,老是跟着好朋友坐在戏院包厢的后排或是马车的倒座上,我认为真是能够整顿风气的好榜样,譬如爱享福的埃及人一面吃喝,一面还叫当差的托着个骷髅出来兜一圈.这女伴跟骷髅一样,使人记得在名利场上混了一世不过是这样下场,倒是对于人生的一个讽刺.真奇怪,拿着漂亮的法爱白雷丝太太来说,真可以说是个钝皮老脸.久经风霜.全没心肝的女人,她的父亲甚至于为她活活气死;还有那风流放诞的孟脱拉浦太太,骑马跳栏的本领比得过英国任何男人,她在公园里亲自赶着灰色马儿兜风,她的母亲仍旧在温泉摆个小摊子过活......你总以为这么大胆的人物,该是天不怕地不怕的了,不想连她们都得由女伴陪着才敢露脸.原来这些热心肠的小东西没有朋友依傍着是不行的.她们在公共场所出入的时候,差不多总有女伴陪着.这些人样子寒酸,穿着染过色的绸衣服,坐在离她们不远.人家不着眼的地方.     有一晚,夜已深了,一群男人坐在蓓基客厅里的壁炉旁边烤火,炉里的火必剥必剥的响.男人们都喜欢到她家里度黄昏,她就请他们享用全伦敦最讲究的冰淇淋和咖啡.蓓基说道:"罗登,我要一只看羊狗."     罗登正在牌桌上玩埃加脱,抬头问道:"一只什么?"     莎吴塞唐勋爵也道:"看羊狗?亲爱的克劳莱太太,你这心思好古怪.为什么不养丹麦狗呢?我看见过一条丹麦狗大得像一只长颈鹿,喝!差一点儿就能拉你的马车了.要不,就找一只波斯猎狗也好,你看怎么样?(对不起,这次该我开牌.)还有一种小哈巴狗,小得可以搁在斯丹恩勋爵的鼻烟壶里.在贝思活脱有一个人,他有一只小狗,那鼻子......我记点了,是皇帝,......那鼻子上可以挂帽子."     罗登一本正经说道:"这一圈的牌都由我记点儿罢."往常他只注意斗牌,除非大家谈到马和赌博,他对于别人说的话全不留心.     活泼的莎吴塞唐接下去说道:"你要看羊狗做什么?"     "我所说的看羊狗不过是比喻."蓓基一面说,一面笑着抬头望望斯丹恩勋爵.     勋爵道:"见鬼!你是什么意思?"     利蓓加道:"有了狗,豺狼就不能近身了.我要个女伴."     勋爵道:"亲爱的小羔羊,你多么纯洁,真需要一只看羊狗来保护你."他伸出下巴涎着脸儿笑起来,乜斜着一双小眼睛对她一溜,那样子难看极了.     了不起的斯丹恩侯爵站在火旁边喝咖啡.炉里的火烧得正旺,必剥必剥的响,越显得屋子里舒服.壁炉周围亮着二十来支蜡烛;墙上的蜡台各各不同,式样别致,有铜的,有瓷的,有镀金的.利蓓加坐在一张花色鲜艳的安乐椅上,蜡烛光照着她,把她的身材越发衬得好看.她穿一件娇嫩得像玫瑰花一般的粉红袍子;肩膀和胳膊白得耀眼,上面半披着一条云雾似的透明纱巾,白皮肤在下面隐隐发亮.她的头发卷成圈儿挂在颈边;一层层又松又挺的新绸裙子底下露出一只美丽的小脚,脚上穿的是最细的丝袜和最漂亮的镂空鞋.     蜡烛光把斯丹恩勋爵的秃脑袋照得发亮,脑袋上还留着一圈红头发.他的眉毛又浓又粗,底下两只的溜骨碌的小眼睛,上面布满红丝,眼睛周围千缕万条的皱纹.他的下半张脸往外突出,张开口就看见两只雪白的暴牙.每逢他对人嬉皮扯脸一笑,那两个暴牙就直发亮,看上去很可怕.那天他刚在宫中领过宴,身上戴着勋章挂着绶带.他大人是个矮个子,宽宽的胸脯,一双罗圈腿.他对于自己的细脚踝和小脚板非常得意,又不住的抚摸自己左膝盖底下的勋章.(英国的嘉德勋章是箍在左腿上的.)     他说:"原来有了放羊的还不够照顾他的小羔羊."     蓓基笑着答道:"放羊的太爱打牌,又老是上俱乐部去."     勋爵道:"天哪!好个腐败的考里同!(维吉尔及底渥克立斯等拉丁诗人诗里的牧羊人,现在成为牧羊人的通称.)他的嘴就配衔烟斗."     罗登在牌桌上说道:"我跟你二对三."     高贵的侯爵喝道:"听听这梅里勃斯(维吉尔《牧歌》中牧羊人的名字.),他倒的确在尽他看羊人的本分,正在剪莎吴塞唐的羊毛呢(骗别人的钱就说"剪某某的羊毛".).喝!这头羊倒容易上当得很.你瞧他好一身雪白的羊毛!"     利蓓加对他瞅了一眼,那表情很幽默,却又有些嘲笑的意味,说道:"勋爵,您还不是得了金羊毛勋章吗?"这话倒是真的,那时他脖子上还套着勋章,是复辟的西班牙亲王们送给他的礼物.     原来斯丹恩勋爵早年出名的胆大,赌钱的本领是了不起的.他和福克斯先生曾经连赌两天两夜.国内最尊贵的大人物都输过钱给他.据说他的爵位也是牌桌上赢来的.可是别人说起他年轻时候捣鬼淘气的事情,他却不爱听.利蓓加看见他的浓眉毛皱在一起,一脸不高兴的样子.     她从椅子上站起来,走过去接了他的咖啡杯子,稍微屈了一屈膝道:"说真话,我非找一只看羊狗不可,不过它不会对你咬."她走到另外一间客厅里,坐在琴旁边唱起法文歌来,那声音婉转动人,听得那爵爷心都软了,立刻跟过来.他一面听唱歌,一面和着拍子点头弯腰.     罗登和他的朋友两个人玩埃加脱,一直玩到兴尽为止.上校是赢家,可是虽然他赢的次数又多,数目又大,而且像这样的请客每星期总有好几回,这前任的骑兵一定觉得很气闷;因为所有的谈话和客人的赞叹都给他太太一个人占了去,他只能悄悄默默的坐在圈子外面,这些人说的笑话,援引的典故,用的希奇古怪的字眼,他一点儿也不懂.     斯丹恩勋爵碰见他和他招呼的时候,总是说:"克劳莱太太的丈夫好哇?"说真的,这就是他的职业,......他不再是克劳莱上校,只是克劳莱太太的丈夫.     我们为什么好久没有提起小罗登呢,只为他不是躲在阁楼上,便是钻到楼下厨房里找伴儿去了.他的母亲差不多从来不理会他.他的法国女佣人在克劳莱家里的一阵子,他便跟着她.后来那法国女人走了,这孩子夜里没有人陪伴,哇哇的啼哭.总算家里的一个女佣人可怜他,把他从冷清清的育儿室抱出来,带到近旁的阁楼里,哄着他睡在自己的床上.     他在楼上啼哭的当儿,利蓓加,斯丹恩勋爵,还有两三个别的客人,恰巧看了歌剧回来,在楼底下喝茶.利蓓加道:"这是我的小宝贝要他的佣人,在那儿哭呢."嘴里这么说,却不动身上去看看.斯丹恩勋爵带着冷笑的口气说道:"你不必去看他了,省得叫你自己心神不安."蓓基脸上讪讪的答道:"得了,他哭哭就会睡着的."接下去大家就议论起刚才看的歌剧来.     只有罗登偷偷的溜上去看他的儿子,他见忠厚的桃立在安慰孩子,才又回到客人堆里来.上校的梳妆室在最高一层,他时常私底下和孩子见面.每天早晨他刮胡子,父子俩便在一起.小罗登坐在父亲身旁一只箱子上看父亲刮胡子,再也看不厌.他和父亲两个非常好,做父亲的时常把甜点心留下一点儿藏在一只从前搁肩饰的匣子里,孩子总到那里去找吃的,找着以后便乐得直笑.他虽然快乐,却不敢放声大笑,因为妈妈在楼下睡觉,不能吵醒她.她睡得很晚,难得在中午之前起床.     罗登买了许多图画书给儿子,又在育儿室塞满了各种玩具.墙上满是画儿,都是他出现钱买来,亲手粘上的.有时罗登太太在公园兜风,用不着他在旁边伺候,他就上楼陪着孩子一玩几个钟头.孩子骑在他身上,把他的大胡子拉着当马缰,连日跟他两个揪呀,滚呀,永远不觉得累.那间屋子很低;有一年,孩子还不到五岁,父亲把他抱起来抛上抛下闹着玩,把小可怜儿的头顶砰的一声撞在天花板上.罗登吓的要命,差点儿又把他掉在地上.     小罗登皱起脸儿准备大哭......那一下撞得实在厉害,怪不得他要哭.他刚要开口的时候,他父亲急得叫道:"老天哪,罗迪,别吵醒了妈妈."孩子怪可怜的紧紧瞅着父亲;他咬着嘴唇,握着拳头,一声儿都没有哼出来.罗登把这事讲给俱乐部的人听,讲给军营食堂里的人听,逢人便告诉说:"喝!我的儿子真有胆子,真了不起.天哪,我把他半个脑袋都插进天花板里去了,可是他怕吵醒妈妈,一点儿也不哭."     有的时候......一星期里有那么一两回......那位太太也上楼到孩子房里来看看他.她简直像时装画报里的美人变活了,总是穿着漂亮的新衣服,新靴子,戴着新手套,很温和的微笑着.她身上有美丽的披肩和花边,还有晶晶发亮的珠宝首饰.她每次上楼,总戴着新帽子,帽子上老是簪着花朵儿,不然就挂着弯弯的鸵鸟毛,又白又软,像一簇茶花,看上去真是富丽堂皇.她公主娘娘似的向孩子点点头,孩子有时在吃饭,有时在画大兵,抬起头来对她望着.她走开之后,屋里总留了一股子玫瑰香味,或是别的迷人的味儿.在他看来,她像个天上的神仙,比他父亲,比所有的别人都高出多多少少,凡人只好远远的望着她顶礼膜拜.跟这位太太一起坐马车兜风是个大典,他坐在倒座上,一声儿不敢言语,只瞪着大眼向对面装点得花团锦簇的公主出神的看.先生们骑着神气十足的骏马,笑吟吟的上前跟她说话.她也是满面春风,对大家眯着眼笑.先生们走开的时候,妈妈挥着手和他们告别,那风度真是优雅.孩子跟她出门总换上新的红衣服,在家却只穿一身棕色的旧麻布衣.有时她不在家,照管他的桃立替他铺床,他就走到母亲的房里去东张西望,觉得这屋子真是神仙洞府,又好看,又有趣,耀得人眼都花了.衣橱里挂着漂亮的衣服,淡红的,浅蓝的,花花绿绿的.梳妆台上摆着一只美丽的铜手,挂满了闪亮闪亮的戒指,旁边还有镶银扣的珠宝盒子.屋里又有一架穿衣镜,真是神妙的艺术品.他刚好能在镜子里照见自己的头脸,看了那么多希罕物儿,脸上都傻了.他在镜子里看见桃立正在拍打床上的枕头,把它们弄松;她的影子歪歪扭扭的,又好像高高吊在天花板上.唉!你这没见世面,没人理,没人管的小可怜儿!在别的孩子们心里口里,妈妈便是上帝的别名,你崇拜的却不过是一块冥顽不灵的石头.     罗登.克劳莱上校虽然是个流氓,心地倒还厚道,有些丈夫气概,能够爱女人,爱孩子.他心底里非常疼爱小罗登,利蓓加虽然不说穿他的秘密,心里却明白.她性子好,所以并不生气,只不过对于丈夫更加看不起.罗登那么喜欢儿子,自己也觉得不好意思,在妻子面前不肯露出来,只有跟孩子两个人在一起的时候才尽情疼他一下子.     他时常在早上带儿子出门,看看马房,逛逛公园.莎吴塞唐伯爵性情最随和,要他把头上的帽子脱下来送人,他也肯.他的人生大事就是不断的买了各色各样的小东西放着,闲常好送人.他买给小罗登一只小马,照送礼的人自己的话,这马儿简直和大老鼠差不多大小.小罗登的高大的爸爸时常喜欢叫儿子骑在这匹喜脱伦小黑马背上在公园里溜达,自己在旁边跟着.他喜欢重游当兵时的旧地,常到武士桥去看望禁卫队里的老同事,想起当年的光棍生涯,很有些恋恋不舍.军队里的老兵看见从前的上司来了,也很高兴,都来摩弄小上校.克劳莱上校和军官们在食堂里吃饭,觉得十分有趣.他常说:"唉,我不够聪明,配不上她,这个我也明白.她不会记挂我的."他这话一点不错,他妻子并不记挂他.     利蓓加很喜欢丈夫,对他总是非常和顺疼爱,甚至于不大明白表示自己瞧不起他.说不定她宁可丈夫颟顸些.他是她的上等佣人和总管.他受她的使唤,绝对的服从.他陪她坐了马车在公园的圆场兜风,从来不出怨言.他送她上歌剧院坐进包厢,然后一个人到俱乐部里去解闷,散场时又准时回去接她.他只希望妻子能够多疼些儿子,可是连这一点他也原谅她.他说:"唉,你知道的,她真能干,而我又不是文绉绉的人."前面已经说过,靠打弹子和玩纸牌赢人家的钱并不需要多少聪明,除此之外,罗登又没有别的本事.     女伴一来之后,他在家里的责任就轻松了.他的妻子怂恿他到外面去吃饭,而且上歌剧院也不要他接送.她总是说:"亲爱的,别留在家里发傻,今儿晚上有几个人要来,你见了他们准觉得讨厌.若不是为你的好处,我也不高兴请他们到家里来.现在我有了一条看羊狗,没有你也不怕了."     "看羊狗......女伴!蓓基.夏泼有个女伴!多滑稽!"克劳莱太太想着这一点,觉得有趣得不得了.     有一天,正是星期日,罗登.克劳莱按例和他儿子骑着小马在公园里散步,碰见上校的一个熟人,是联队里的克林克下士.下士正在和一个老先生谈天,老先生手里抱着一个男孩子,年龄和小罗登相仿.那孩子抓着下士身上挂的滑铁卢勋章,看得高兴.     上校说:"好啊,克林克?"克林克答道:"早上好,大爷,这位小先生跟小上校差不多大."     抱孩子的老先生说道:"他父亲也在滑铁卢打仗的.对不对,乔杰?"     乔杰道:"对."他和小马上的孩子正颜厉色一眼不眨的对看了半天,正是小孩子普通的样子.     克林克老腔老调的说道:"常备军里的."     老人神气活现的说:"他是第......联队里的上尉,乔治.奥斯本上尉,也许您还认识他.他死得像个英雄,和科西嘉的恶霸拚命到底."     克劳莱上校涨红了脸道:"我跟他很熟的.他的妻子,他的亲爱的妻子,怎么样了?"     "她是我的女儿,"老人家说着,放下孩子,一本正经的从口袋里掏出一张纸牌子交给上校,上面写着:"赛特笠先生,泰晤士街白伦格码头无灰黑金刚钻煤公司经理.住址:福兰西路安娜.玛丽亚小屋."     小乔杰走过去望着那喜脱伦小马.     小罗登从鞍子上问他道:"你要骑马吗?"     乔杰答道:"我要."上校瞧瞧他,似乎对他很感兴趣,把他抱起来坐在小罗登后面.     他说:"拉着他,乔杰.抱着我孩子的腰......他叫罗登."两个孩子都笑起来了.     好性情的下士说:"你上哪儿也找不着这么两个漂亮的孩子."上校.下士.赛特笠老先生拿着伞,都跟在孩子们旁边散步.

CHAPTER XXXVIII A Family in a Very Small Way We must suppose little George Osborne has ridden from Knightsbridge towards Fulham, and will stop and make inquiries at that village regarding some friends whom we have left there. How is Mrs. Amelia after the storm of Waterloo? Is she living and thriving? What has come of Major Dobbin, whose cab was always hankering about her premises? And is there any news of the Collector of Boggley Wollah? The facts concerning the latter are briefly these: Our worthy fat friend Joseph Sedley returned to India not long after his escape from Brussels. Either his furlough was up, or he dreaded to meet any witnesses of his Waterloo flight. However it might be, he went back to his duties in Bengal very soon after Napoleon had taken up his residence at St. Helena, where Jos saw the ex-Emperor. To hear Mr. Sedley talk on board ship you would have supposed that it was not the first time he and the Corsican had met, and that the civilian had bearded the French General at Mount St. John. He had a thousand anecdotes about the famous battles; he knew the position of every regiment and the loss which each had incurred. He did not deny that he had been concerned in those victories--that he had been with the army and carried despatches for the Duke of Wellington. And he described what the Duke did and said on every conceivable moment of the day of Waterloo, with such an accurate knowledge of his Grace's sentiments and proceedings that it was clear he must have been by the conqueror's side throughout the day; though, as a non- combatant, his name was not mentioned in the public documents relative to the battle. Perhaps he actually worked himself up to believe that he had been engaged with the army; certain it is that he made a prodigious sensation for some time at Calcutta, and was called Waterloo Sedley during the whole of his subsequent stay in Bengal. The bills which Jos had given for the purchase of those unlucky horses were paid without question by him and his agents. He never was heard to allude to the bargain, and nobody knows for a certainty what became of the horses, or how he got rid of them, or of Isidor, his Belgian servant, who sold a grey horse, very like the one which Jos rode, at Valenciennes sometime during the autumn of 1815. Jos's London agents had orders to pay one hundred and twenty pounds yearly to his parents at Fulham. It was the chief support of the old couple; for Mr. Sedley's speculations in life subsequent to his bankruptcy did not by any means retrieve the broken old gentleman's fortune. He tried to be a wine-merchant, a coal-merchant, a commission lottery agent, &c., &c. He sent round prospectuses to his friends whenever he took a new trade, and ordered a new brass plate for the door, and talked pompously about making his fortune still. But Fortune never came back to the feeble and stricken old man. One by one his friends dropped off, and were weary of buying dear coals and bad wine from him; and there was only his wife in all the world who fancied, when he tottered off to the City of a morning, that he was still doing any business there. At evening he crawled slowly back; and he used to go of nights to a little club at a tavern, where he disposed of the finances of the nation. It was wonderful to hear him talk about millions, and agios, and discounts, and what Rothschild was doing, and Baring Brothers. He talked of such vast sums that the gentlemen of the club (the apothecary, the undertaker, the great carpenter and builder, the parish clerk, who was allowed to come stealthily, and Mr. Clapp, our old acquaintance,) respected the old gentleman. "I was better off once, sir," he did not fail to tell everybody who "used the room." "My son, sir, is at this minute chief magistrate of Ramgunge in the Presidency of Bengal, and touching his four thousand rupees per mensem. My daughter might be a Colonel's lady if she liked. I might draw upon my son, the first magistrate, sir, for two thousand pounds to-morrow, and Alexander would cash my bill, down sir, down on the counter, sir. But the Sedleys were always a proud family." You and I, my dear reader, may drop into this condition one day: for have not many of our friends attained it? Our luck may fail: our powers forsake us: our place on the boards be taken by better and younger mimes--the chance of life roll away and leave us shattered and stranded. Then men will walk across the road when they meet you--or, worse still, hold you out a couple of fingers and patronize you in a pitying way--then you will know, as soon as your back is turned, that your friend begins with a "Poor devil, what imprudences he has committed, what chances that chap has thrown away!" Well, well--a carriage and three thousand a year is not the summit of the reward nor the end of God's judgment of men. If quacks prosper as often as they go to the wall--if zanies succeed and knaves arrive at fortune, and, vice versa, sharing ill luck and prosperity for all the world like the ablest and most honest amongst us--I say, brother, the gifts and pleasures of Vanity Fair cannot be held of any great account, and that it is probable . . . but we are wandering out of the domain of the story. Had Mrs. Sedley been a woman of energy, she would have exerted it after her husband's ruin and, occupying a large house, would have taken in boarders. The broken Sedley would have acted well as the boarding-house landlady's husband; the Munoz of private life; the titular lord and master: the carver, house-steward, and humble husband of the occupier of the dingy throne. I have seen men of good brains and breeding, and of good hopes and vigour once, who feasted squires and kept hunters in their youth, meekly cutting up legs of mutton for rancorous old harridans and pretending to preside over their dreary tables--but Mrs. Sedley, we say, had not spirit enough to bustle about for "a few select inmates to join a cheerful musical family," such as one reads of in the Times. She was content to lie on the shore where fortune had stranded her--and you could see that the career of this old couple was over. I don't think they were unhappy. Perhaps they were a little prouder in their downfall than in their prosperity. Mrs. Sedley was always a great person for her landlady, Mrs. Clapp, when she descended and passed many hours with her in the basement or ornamented kitchen. The Irish maid Betty Flanagan's bonnets and ribbons, her sauciness, her idleness, her reckless prodigality of kitchen candles, her consumption of tea and sugar, and so forth occupied and amused the old lady almost as much as the doings of her former household, when she had Sambo and the coachman, and a groom, and a footboy, and a housekeeper with a regiment of female domestics--her former household, about which the good lady talked a hundred times a day. And besides Betty Flanagan, Mrs. Sedley had all the maids-of-all- work in the street to superintend. She knew how each tenant of the cottages paid or owed his little rent. She stepped aside when Mrs. Rougemont the actress passed with her dubious family. She flung up her head when Mrs. Pestler, the apothecary's lady, drove by in her husband's professional one-horse chaise. She had colloquies with the greengrocer about the pennorth of turnips which Mr. Sedley loved; she kept an eye upon the milkman and the baker's boy; and made visitations to the butcher, who sold hundreds of oxen very likely with less ado than was made about Mrs. Sedley's loin of mutton: and she counted the potatoes under the joint on Sundays, on which days, dressed in her best, she went to church twice and read Blair's Sermons in the evening. On that day, for "business" prevented him on weekdays from taking such a pleasure, it was old Sedley's delight to take out his little grandson Georgy to the neighbouring parks or Kensington Gardens, to see the soldiers or to feed the ducks. Georgy loved the redcoats, and his grandpapa told him how his father had been a famous soldier, and introduced him to many sergeants and others with Waterloo medals on their breasts, to whom the old grandfather pompously presented the child as the son of Captain Osborne of the --th, who died gloriously on the glorious eighteenth. He has been known to treat some of these non-commissioned gentlemen to a glass of porter, and, indeed, in their first Sunday walks was disposed to spoil little Georgy, sadly gorging the boy with apples and parliament, to the detriment of his health--until Amelia declared that George should never go out with his grandpapa unless the latter promised solemnly, and on his honour, not to give the child any cakes, lollipops, or stall produce whatever. Between Mrs. Sedley and her daughter there was a sort of coolness about this boy, and a secret jealousy--for one evening in George's very early days, Amelia, who had been seated at work in their little parlour scarcely remarking that the old lady had quitted the room, ran upstairs instinctively to the nursery at the cries of the child, who had been asleep until that moment--and there found Mrs. Sedley in the act of surreptitiously administering Daffy's Elixir to the infant. Amelia, the gentlest and sweetest of everyday mortals, when she found this meddling with her maternal authority, thrilled and trembled all over with anger. Her cheeks, ordinarily pale, now flushed up, until they were as red as they used to be when she was a child of twelve years old. She seized the baby out of her mother's arms and then grasped at the bottle, leaving the old lady gaping at her, furious, and holding the guilty tea-spoon. Amelia flung the bottle crashing into the fire-place. "I will NOT have baby poisoned, Mamma," cried Emmy, rocking the infant about violently with both her arms round him and turning with flashing eyes at her mother. "Poisoned, Amelia!" said the old lady; "this language to me?" "He shall not have any medicine but that which Mr. Pestler sends for hi n. He told me that Daffy's Elixir was poison." "Very good: you think I'm a murderess then," replied Mrs. Sedley. "This is the language you use to your mother. I have met with misfortunes: I have sunk low in life: I have kept my carriage, and now walk on foot: but I did not know I was a murderess before, and thank you for the NEWS." "Mamma," said the poor girl, who was always ready for tears--"you shouldn't be hard upon me. I--I didn't mean--I mean, I did not wish to say you would to any wrong to this dear child, only--" "Oh, no, my love,--only that I was a murderess; in which case I had better go to the Old Bailey. Though I didn't poison YOU, when you were a child, but gave you the best of education and the most expensive masters money could procure. Yes; I've nursed five children and buried three; and the one I loved the best of all, and tended through croup, and teething, and measles, and hooping-cough, and brought up with foreign masters, regardless of expense, and with accomplishments at Minerva House--which I never had when I was a girl--when I was too glad to honour my father and mother, that I might live long in the land, and to be useful, and not to mope all day in my room and act the fine lady--says I'm a murderess. Ah, Mrs. Osborne! may YOU never nourish a viper in your bosom, that's MY prayer." "Mamma, Mamma!" cried the bewildered girl; and the child in her arms set up a frantic chorus of shouts. "A murderess, indeed! Go down on your knees and pray to God to cleanse your wicked ungrateful heart, Amelia, and may He forgive you as I do." And Mrs. Sedley tossed out of the room, hissing out the word poison once more, and so ending her charitable benediction. Till the termination of her natural life, this breach between Mrs. Sedley and her daughter was never thoroughly mended. The quarrel gave the elder lady numberless advantages which she did not fail to turn to account with female ingenuity and perseverance. For instance, she scarcely spoke to Amelia for many weeks afterwards. She warned the domestics not to touch the child, as Mrs. Osborne might be offended. She asked her daughter to see and satisfy herself that there was no poison prepared in the little daily messes that were concocted for Georgy. When neighbours asked after the boy's health, she referred them pointedly to Mrs. Osborne. SHE never ventured to ask whether the baby was well or not. SHE would not touch the child although he was her grandson, and own precious darling, for she was not USED to children, and might kill it. And whenever Mr. Pestler came upon his healing inquisition, she received the doctor with such a sarcastic and scornful demeanour, as made the surgeon declare that not Lady Thistlewood herself, whom he had the honour of attending professionally, could give herself greater airs than old Mrs. Sedley, from whom he never took a fee. And very likely Emmy was jealous too, upon her own part, as what mother is not, of those who would manage her children for her, or become candidates for the first place in their affections. It is certain that when anybody nursed the child, she was uneasy, and that she would no more allow Mrs. Clapp or the domestic to dress or tend him than she would have let them wash her husband's miniature which hung up over her little bed--the same little bed from which the poor girl had gone to his; and to which she retired now for many long, silent, tearful, but happy years. In this room was all Amelia's heart and treasure. Here it was that she tended her boy and watched him through the many ills of childhood, with a constant passion of love. The elder George returned in him somehow, only improved, and as if come back from heaven. In a hundred little tones, looks, and movements, the child was so like his father that the widow's heart thrilled as she held him to it; and he would often ask the cause of her tears. It was because of his likeness to his father, she did not scruple to tell him. She talked constantly to him about this dead father, and spoke of her love for George to the innocent and wondering child; much more than she ever had done to George himself, or to any confidante of her youth. To her parents she never talked about this matter, shrinking from baring her heart to them. Little George very likely could understand no better than they, but into his ears she poured her sentimental secrets unreservedly, and into his only. The very joy of this woman was a sort of grief, or so tender, at least, that its expression was tears. Her sensibilities were so weak and tremulous that perhaps they ought not to be talked about in a book. I was told by Dr. Pestler (now a most flourishing lady's physician, with a sumptuous dark green carriage, a prospect of speedy knighthood, and a house in Manchester Square) that her grief at weaning the child was a sight that would have unmanned a Herod. He was very soft-hearted many years ago, and his wife was mortally jealous of Mrs. Amelia, then and long afterwards. Perhaps the doctor's lady had good reason for her jealousy: most women shared it, of those who formed the small circle of Amelia's acquaintance, and were quite angry at the enthusiasm with which the other sex regarded her. For almost all men who came near her loved her; though no doubt they would be at a loss to tell you why. She was not brilliant, nor witty, nor wise over much, nor extraordinarily handsome. But wherever she went she touched and charmed every one of the male sex, as invariably as she awakened the scorn and incredulity of her own sisterhood. I think it was her weakness which was her principal charm--a kind of sweet submission and softness, which seemed to appeal to each man she met for his sympathy and protection. We have seen how in the regiment, though she spoke but to few of George's comrades there, all the swords of the young fellows at the mess-table would have leapt from their scabbards to fight round her; and so it was in the little narrow lodging-house and circle at Fulham, she interested and pleased everybody. If she had been Mrs. Mango herself, of the great house of Mango, Plantain, and Co., Crutched Friars, and the magnificent proprietress of the Pineries, Fulham, who gave summer dejeuners frequented by Dukes and Earls, and drove about the parish with magnificent yellow liveries and bay horses, such as the royal stables at Kensington themselves could not turn out--I say had she been Mrs. Mango herself, or her son's wife, Lady Mary Mango (daughter of the Earl of Castlemouldy, who condescended to marry the head of the firm), the tradesmen of the neighbourhood could not pay her more honour than they invariably showed to the gentle young widow, when she passed by their doors, or made her humble purchases at their shops. Thus it was not only Mr. Pestler, the medical man, but Mr. Linton the young assistant, who doctored the servant maids and small tradesmen, and might be seen any day reading the Times in the surgery, who openly declared himself the slave of Mrs. Osborne. He was a personable young gentleman, more welcome at Mrs. Sedley's lodgings than his principal; and if anything went wrong with Georgy, he would drop in twice or thrice in the day to see the little chap, and without so much as the thought of a fee. He would abstract lozenges, tamarinds, and other produce from the surgery-drawers for little Georgy's benefit, and compounded draughts and mixtures for him of miraculous sweetness, so that it was quite a pleasure to the child to be ailing. He and Pestler, his chief, sat up two whole nights by the boy in that momentous and awful week when Georgy had the measles; and when you would have thought, from the mother's terror, that there had never been measles in the world before. Would they have done as much for other people? Did they sit up for the folks at the Pineries, when Ralph Plantagenet, and Gwendoline, and Guinever Mango had the same juvenile complaint? Did they sit up for little Mary Clapp, the landlord's daughter, who actually caught the disease of little Georgy? Truth compels one to say, no. They slept quite undisturbed, at least as far as she was concerned--pronounced hers to be a slight case, which would almost cure itself, sent her in a draught or two, and threw in bark when the child rallied, with perfect indifference, and just for form's sake. Again, there was the little French chevalier opposite, who gave lessons in his native tongue at various schools in the neighbourhood, and who might be heard in his apartment of nights playing tremulous old gavottes and minuets on a wheezy old fiddle. Whenever this powdered and courteous old man, who never missed a Sunday at the convent chapel at Hammersmith, and who was in all respects, thoughts, conduct, and bearing utterly unlike the bearded savages of his nation, who curse perfidious Albion, and scowl at you from over their cigars, in the Quadrant arcades at the present day-- whenever the old Chevalier de Talonrouge spoke of Mistress Osborne, he would first finish his pinch of snuff, flick away the remaining particles of dust with a graceful wave of his hand, gather up his fingers again into a bunch, and, bringing them up to his mouth, blow them open with a kiss, exclaiming, Ah! la divine creature! He vowed and protested that when Amelia walked in the Brompton Lanes flowers grew in profusion under her feet. He called little Georgy Cupid, and asked him news of Venus, his mamma; and told the astonished Betty Flanagan that she was one of the Graces, and the favourite attendant of the Reine des Amours. Instances might be multiplied of this easily gained and unconscious popularity. Did not Mr. Binny, the mild and genteel curate of the district chapel, which the family attended, call assiduously upon the widow, dandle the little boy on his knee, and offer to teach him Latin, to the anger of the elderly virgin, his sister, who kept house for him? "There is nothing in her, Beilby," the latter lady would say. "When she comes to tea here she does not speak a word during the whole evening. She is but a poor lackadaisical creature, and it is my belief has no heart at all. It is only her pretty face which all you gentlemen admire so. Miss Grits, who has five thousand pounds, and expectations besides, has twice as much character, and is a thousand times more agreeable to my taste; and if she were good-looking I know that you would think her perfection." Very likely Miss Binny was right to a great extent. It IS the pretty face which creates sympathy in the hearts of men, those wicked rogues. A woman may possess the wisdom and chastity of Minerva, and we give no heed to her, if she has a plain face. What folly will not a pair of bright eyes make pardonable? What dulness may not red lips and sweet accents render pleasant? And so, with their usual sense of justice, ladies argue that because a woman is handsome, therefore she is a fool. O ladies, ladies! there are some of you who are neither handsome nor wise. These are but trivial incidents to recount in the life of our heroine. Her tale does not deal in wonders, as the gentle reader has already no doubt perceived; and if a journal had been kept of her proceedings during the seven years after the birth of her son, there would be found few incidents more remarkable in it than that of the measles, recorded in the foregoing page. Yes, one day, and greatly to her wonder, the Reverend Mr. Binny, just mentioned, asked her to change her name of Osborne for his own; when, with deep blushes and tears in her eyes and voice, she thanked him for his regard for her, expressed gratitude for his attentions to her and to her poor little boy, but said that she never, never could think of any but--but the husband whom she had lost. On the twenty-fifth of April, and the eighteenth of June, the days of marriage and widowhood, she kept her room entirely, consecrating them (and we do not know how many hours of solitary night-thought, her little boy sleeping in his crib by her bedside) to the memory of that departed friend. During the day she was more active. She had to teach George to read and to write and a little to draw. She read books, in order that she might tell him stories from them. As his eyes opened and his mind expanded under the influence of the outward nature round about him, she taught the child, to the best of her humble power, to acknowledge the Maker of all, and every night and every morning he and she--(in that awful and touching communion which I think must bring a thrill to the heart of every man who witnesses or who remembers it)--the mother and the little boy-- prayed to Our Father together, the mother pleading with all her gentle heart, the child lisping after her as she spoke. And each time they prayed to God to bless dear Papa, as if he were alive and in the room with them. To wash and dress this young gentleman--to take him for a run of the mornings, before breakfast, and the retreat of grandpapa for "business"--to make for him the most wonderful and ingenious dresses, for which end the thrifty widow cut up and altered every available little bit of finery which she possessed out of her wardrobe during her marriage--for Mrs. Osborne herself (greatly to her mother's vexation, who preferred fine clothes, especially since her misfortunes) always wore a black gown and a straw bonnet with a black ribbon--occupied her many hours of the day. Others she had to spare, at the service of her mother and her old father. She had taken the pains to learn, and used to play cribbage with this gentleman on the nights when he did not go to his club. She sang for him when he was so minded, and it was a good sign, for he invariably fell into a comfortable sleep during the music. She wrote out his numerous memorials, letters, prospectuses, and projects. It was in her handwriting that most of the old gentleman's former acquaintances were informed that he had become an agent for the Black Diamond and Anti-Cinder Coal Company and could supply his friends and the public with the best coals at --s. per chaldron. All he did was to sign the circulars with his flourish and signature, and direct them in a shaky, clerklike hand. One of these papers was sent to Major Dobbin,--Regt., care of Messrs. Cox and Greenwood; but the Major being in Madras at the time, had no particular call for coals. He knew, though, the hand which had written the prospectus. Good God! what would he not have given to hold it in his own! A second prospectus came out, informing the Major that J. Sedley and Company, having established agencies at Oporto, Bordeaux, and St. Mary's, were enabled to offer to their friends and the public generally the finest and most celebrated growths of ports, sherries, and claret wines at reasonable prices and under extraordinary advantages. Acting upon this hint, Dobbin furiously canvassed the governor, the commander-in-chief, the judges, the regiments, and everybody whom he knew in the Presidency, and sent home to Sedley and Co. orders for wine which perfectly astonished Mr. Sedley and Mr. Clapp, who was the Co. in the business. But no more orders came after that first burst of good fortune, on which poor old Sedley was about to build a house in the City, a regiment of clerks, a dock to himself, and correspondents all over the world. The old gentleman's former taste in wine had gone: the curses of the mess-room assailed Major Dobbin for the vile drinks he had been the means of introducing there; and he bought back a great quantity of the wine and sold it at public outcry, at an enormous loss to himself. As for Jos, who was by this time promoted to a seat at the Revenue Board at Calcutta, he was wild with rage when the post brought him out a bundle of these Bacchanalian prospectuses, with a private note from his father, telling Jos that his senior counted upon him in this enterprise, and had consigned a quantity of select wines to him, as per invoice, drawing bills upon him for the amount of the same. Jos, who would no more have it supposed that his father, Jos Sedley's father, of the Board of Revenue, was a wine merchant asking for orders, than that he was Jack Ketch, refused the bills with scorn, wrote back contumeliously to the old gentleman, bidding him to mind his own affairs; and the protested paper coming back, Sedley and Co. had to take it up, with the profits which they had made out of the Madras venture, and with a little portion of Emmy's savings. Besides her pension of fifty pounds a year, there had been five hundred pounds, as her husband's executor stated, left in the agent's hands at the time of Osborne's demise, which sum, as George's guardian, Dobbin proposed to put out at 8 per cent in an Indian house of agency. Mr. Sedley, who thought the Major had some roguish intentions of his own about the money, was strongly against this plan; and he went to the agents to protest personally against the employment of the money in question, when he learned, to his surprise, that there had been no such sum in their hands, that all the late Captain's assets did not amount to a hundred pounds, and that the five hundred pounds in question must be a separate sum, of which Major Dobbin knew the particulars. More than ever convinced that there was some roguery, old Sedley pursued the Major. As his daughter's nearest friend, he demanded with a high hand a statement of the late Captain's accounts. Dobbin's stammering, blushing, and awkwardness added to the other's convictions that he had a rogue to deal with, and in a majestic tone he told that officer a piece of his mind, as he called it, simply stating his belief that the Major was unlawfully detaining his late son-in-law's money. Dobbin at this lost all patience, and if his accuser had not been so old and so broken, a quarrel might have ensued between them at the Slaughters' Coffee-house, in a box of which place of entertainment the gentlemen had their colloquy. "Come upstairs, sir," lisped out the Major. "I insist on your coming up the stairs, and I will show which is the injured party, poor George or I"; and, dragging the old gentleman up to his bedroom, he produced from his desk Osborne's accounts, and a bundle of IOU's which the latter had given, who, to do him justice, was always ready to give an IOU. "He paid his bills in England," Dobbin added, "but he had not a hundred pounds in the world when he fell. I and one or two of his brother officers made up the little sum, which was all that we could spare, and you dare tell us that we are trying to cheat the widow and the orphan." Sedley was very contrite and humbled, though the fact is that William Dobbin had told a great falsehood to the old gentleman; having himself given every shilling of the money, having buried his friend, and paid all the fees and charges incident upon the calamity and removal of poor Amelia. About these expenses old Osborne had never given himself any trouble to think, nor any other relative of Amelia, nor Amelia herself, indeed. She trusted to Major Dobbin as an accountant, took his somewhat confused calculations for granted, and never once suspected how much she was in his debt. Twice or thrice in the year, according to her promise, she wrote him letters to Madras, letters all about little Georgy. How he treasured these papers! Whenever Amelia wrote he answered, and not until then. But he sent over endless remembrances of himself to his godson and to her. He ordered and sent a box of scarfs and a grand ivory set of chess-men from China. The pawns were little green and white men, with real swords and shields; the knights were on horseback, the castles were on the backs of elephants. "Mrs. Mango's own set at the Pineries was not so fine," Mr. Pestler remarked. These chess-men were the delight of Georgy's life, who printed his first letter in acknowledgement of this gift of his godpapa. He sent over preserves and pickles, which latter the young gentleman tried surreptitiously in the sideboard and half-killed himself with eating. He thought it was a judgement upon him for stealing, they were so hot. Emmy wrote a comical little account of this mishap to the Major: it pleased him to think that her spirits were rallying and that she could be merry sometimes now. He sent over a pair of shawls, a white one for her and a black one with palm-leaves for her mother, and a pair of red scarfs, as winter wrappers, for old Mr. Sedley and George. The shawls were worth fifty guineas apiece at the very least, as Mrs. Sedley knew. She wore hers in state at church at Brompton, and was congratulated by her female friends upon the splendid acquisition. Emmy's, too, became prettily her modest black gown. "What a pity it is she won't think of him!" Mrs. Sedley remarked to Mrs. Clapp and to all her friends of Brompton. "Jos never sent us such presents, I am sure, and grudges us everything. It is evident that the Major is over head and ears in love with her; and yet, whenever I so much as hint it, she turns red and begins to cry and goes and sits upstairs with her miniature. I'm sick of that miniature. I wish we had never seen those odious purse-proud Osbornes." Amidst such humble scenes and associates George's early youth was passed, and the boy grew up delicate, sensitive, imperious, woman- bred--domineering the gentle mother whom he loved with passionate affection. He ruled all the rest of the little world round about him. As he grew, the elders were amazed at his haughty manner and his constant likeness to his father. He asked questions about everything, as inquiring youth will do. The profundity of his remarks and interrogatories astonished his old grandfather, who perfectly bored the club at the tavern with stories about the little lad's learning and genius. He suffered his grandmother with a good- humoured indifference. The small circle round about him believed that the equal of the boy did not exist upon the earth. Georgy inherited his father's pride, and perhaps thought they were not wrong. When he grew to be about six years old, Dobbin began to write to him very much. The Major wanted to hear that Georgy was going to a school and hoped he would acquit himself with credit there: or would he have a good tutor at home? It was time that he should begin to learn; and his godfather and guardian hinted that he hoped to be allowed to defray the charges of the boy's education, which would fall heavily upon his mother's straitened income. The Major, in a word, was always thinking about Amelia and her little boy, and by orders to his agents kept the latter provided with picture-books, paint-boxes, desks, and all conceivable implements of amusement and instruction. Three days before George's sixth birthday a gentleman in a gig, accompanied by a servant, drove up to Mr. Sedley's house and asked to see Master George Osborne: it was Mr. Woolsey, military tailor, of Conduit Street, who came at the Major's order to measure the young gentleman for a suit of clothes. He had had the honour of making for the Captain, the young gentleman's father. Sometimes, too, and by the Major's desire no doubt, his sisters, the Misses Dobbin, would call in the family carriage to take Amelia and the little boy to drive if they were so inclined. The patronage and kindness of these ladies was very uncomfortable to Amelia, but she bore it meekly enough, for her nature was to yield; and, besides, the carriage and its splendours gave little Georgy immense pleasure. The ladies begged occasionally that the child might pass a day with them, and he was always glad to go to that fine garden-house at Denmark Hill, where they lived, and where there were such fine grapes in the hot-houses and peaches on the walls. One day they kindly came over to Amelia with news which they were SURE would delight her--something VERY interesting about their dear William. "What was it: was he coming home?" she asked with pleasure beaming in her eyes. "Oh, no--not the least--but they had very good reason to believe that dear William was about to be married--and to a relation of a very dear friend of Amelia's--to Miss Glorvina O'Dowd, Sir Michael O'Dowd's sister, who had gone out to join Lady O'Dowd at Madras--a very beautiful and accomplished girl, everybody said." Amelia said "Oh!" Amelia was very VERY happy indeed. But she supposed Glorvina could not be like her old acquaintance, who was most kind--but--but she was very happy indeed. And by some impulse of which I cannot explain the meaning, she took George in her arms and kissed him with an extraordinary tenderness. Her eyes were quite moist when she put the child down; and she scarcely spoke a word during the whole of the drive--though she was so very happy indeed. 第 三 十 八 章    小 户 人 家     乔治.奥斯本那天骑着马从武士桥一直回到福兰.我们也该趁便在这村子里停下来,问问从前撇在那儿的几个老朋友近况如何.经过滑铁卢的风波之后,爱米丽亚太太怎么了?她还活着吗?日子过得好吗?都宾少佐从前老是到她家里去,他的车子总在她寓所附近打转,他现在怎么了?卜克雷.窝拉的税官有消息吗?关于他,简单的情形是这样的.     我们那位了不起的朋友,乔瑟夫.赛特笠那大胖子,从布鲁塞尔逃难回国以后不久就到印度去了.不知他是假满回任,还是害怕碰见眼看他从滑铁卢逃命的熟人.不管怎么样,拿破仑住到圣海里娜岛上之后不久,他又回到孟加拉去办公了,路过圣海里娜的时候还见过那下了台的皇帝.和赛特笠先生同船的人听他说话,总以为他跟拿破仑并不是第一次见面,在圣约翰山上已经争持过一番的了.关于那两次有名的战役,他肚子里的掌故多得讲不完,各个联队的据点,每队伤亡的人数,他也知道.他并不否认自己和那次胜利很有关系,据说他当时正在军中,曾经替威灵顿公爵传递过公文.他细细的形容滑铁卢大战发生那天威灵顿公爵的一动一静;他大人做些什么,想些什么,他都知道得十分透彻,这样看来,他竟是一整天都在常胜将军的身边.可惜他没有正式参战,所以和战事有关的公告里面没有提到他的名字.说不定他想入非非,真的相信自己随军工作过的.他靠着这一点在加尔各答大大的出了一阵风头,而且在孟加拉的时候大家一直都叫他滑铁卢赛特笠.     乔斯买那两匹倒楣的马儿立的票据,由他和他的代理人乖乖的付清了.他从来不提起这次交易;没人知道那两匹马到哪里去了,也没人知道他怎么把它们脱手.恍惚听说在一八一五年秋天,他的比利时听差伊息多在梵朗西爱纳卖掉一匹灰色马,很像乔斯骑的一匹.     乔斯吩咐他在伦敦的代理人每年付给他福兰区的父母一百二十镑年金,算是老夫妇主要的生活来源.苦恼的赛特笠先生破产以后仍旧爱做投机买卖,结果并不能把消蚀掉的本钱捞回来.他想法子卖酒,卖煤,经售彩票等等.每逢他换一种新的行业,就向朋友们发传单,在门上钉起新的铜牌子,大言不惭的说什么将来重兴家业的话.可怜这个年老力衰饱经忧患的老头儿从此没有碰上好运.他的朋友不耐烦老是买贵煤和坏酒,渐渐的都不和他来往了.他早上趔趔趄趄走到市中心去,只有他的妻子还以为他去办公.到黄昏,他一步一拖的回家,晚上到酒店里的一个小俱乐部去消遣.听他说话,那口气里竟好像国里的财政是他一手掌管的.他谈起几百万的资金,什么贴水,折扣,还有洛施却哀尔特和贝林兄弟(都是当时的财阀.)的动静,真是好听.俱乐部里的先生们,像配药的,办丧事的,木匠头儿,教堂管事的(他是给偷偷的放进来的),还有咱们的老朋友克拉浦先生,听了这么大的数目,都对老头儿十分敬重.他对所有"在屋里坐坐"的人都说过:"我是见过好日子的.我的儿子现在是孟加拉行政区里拉姆根奇地方的大官儿,一年有四千卢比收入.我女儿只要开声口,就能做上校的太太.倘或我要问我那做官儿的儿子去支两千镑,我只消明天跑到亚历山大那儿,他就会给我现钱.嗳!他就会把现钱给我堆在柜台上.可是我们赛特笠家里的人都有傲骨头."亲爱的读者,说不定我和你将来也会变成这个样子,我们的朋友之中,不是有好些已经落到这样收场了吗?一个人的运道会转变,能力会衰退,戏台上的地位也会给年富力强的丑角抢去,到后来气数也尽了,只好可怜巴巴的落泊一辈子.人家在路上碰见你,就会躲到对街去,更可恨的,他们还会表示可怜你,老腔老调的伸出两个指头算跟你拉手.你心里有数,到你一转背,你的朋友就会说:"可怜虫,只怪他自己糊涂,白白的辜负了好机会."得了,得了,一辆自备马车和三千镑一年的收入不见得就是人生最高的酬报,也不是上帝判断世人好歹的标准.咱们只看呆子也会得意,混蛋也能发财,江湖骗子成功的机会并不比失败的机会少......只看这些家伙也和世界上最正直最能干的人一样,得失升沉之间没有定准,那么,兄弟啊,名利场上的得意快活又值得多少呢?说不定......唉,我们越说越离题了.     倘若赛特笠太太是个精神勃勃的女人,在她丈夫落魄之后便该想法子弄一所大房子,靠着替人包办食宿过活.赛特笠反正不得意,做做房东太太的丈夫一定合适.这种角色等于私生活中的孟诺士(孟诺士(Ｍｕｎｏｚ,１８１０—７３),西班牙凯撒玲女王的丈夫,政治上全无权力.),名义上是主人,实际上是屋里的总管,吃饭的时候给大家切鸡切肉,妻子高踞在破烂的宝座上,他就低首下心做她的驸马爷.我曾见过好些有脑子有身分的人,从前年富力强,前途光明,结交的也是绅士,家里还养着猎狗,到后来只好捺下性子陪着一大堆讨厌的老太婆吃饭,给她们切切羊腿,表面上算做主人,好不气闷.反正我刚才已经说过,赛特笠太太连这点气魄也没有,《泰晤士报》广告栏里所谓"富有音乐天才的家庭征求高尚人仕共同居住,保证环境愉快"这一类的职业,她也担当不了.命运把她播弄到什么角落里,她就随分安命的过下去.谁都看得出来,老两口儿这一辈子就算完了.     看来他们并不觉得烦恼,说不定落薄之后比从前反而骄傲些.房子的底层是房东克拉浦太太的厨房兼会客室.装饰得很整齐,赛特笠太太时常下去聊天,一坐就是好几个钟头.在房东太太看起来,她仍旧是个了不起的大人物.那爱尔兰女佣人蓓蒂.弗兰那根戴什么帽子,系什么缎带,怎么泼辣,怎么好吃懒做,把厨房里的蜡烛怎么浪费,喝了多少茶,茶里搁了多少糖等等,赛特笠太太全要过问,管着这些事,光阴也就过去了,她也就不觉得气闷了.从前她有三菩.车夫.马夫.打杂的小子,还有管家娘子带着一大群女佣人(关于她以前的势派,她一天总要唠叨一百次),日子倒也不比现在过得更忙碌更有趣.除了蓓蒂.弗兰那根,那条街上还有许多别人家包办全家杂事的女佣人,她们的一举一动赛特笠太太也爱管.隔壁邻舍的房租谁家付了,谁家还欠着,她都知道.做戏子的卢颐蒙太太带着她身分不明的儿女走过,她躲开不理.医生的女人配色勒太太坐着丈夫出诊用的一匹马拉的小马车走过,她把头高高抬起.她和卖菜蔬的谈论赛特笠先生爱吃的一便士一把的萝卜;她留心监视着送牛奶的和送面包的小孩;她一次次去麻烦卖肉的......说不定那卖肉的卖掉了几百头牛还没有卖给她一块羊腰肉费的事多.到星期日,她总把藏在肉底下的洋山芋拿出来一个个数过.每逢星期日她穿上最好的衣服上教堂做两回礼拜,到黄昏便读读白莱危的训戒.     赛特笠老头儿也爱在星期天带着小外孙乔杰到附近公园里或是坎里顿花园去喂鸭子和看大兵,因为平常日子他要"办公",没有时候出去逛.乔杰爱看穿红的兵士.他外公告诉他说他爸爸从前是个有名的军官,又带他去见许多衣服上挂着滑铁卢勋章的军曹和别的小军官.老外公神气活现的对那些人说孩子的父亲就是第......联队里的奥斯本上尉,在光荣的十八日光荣的死在战场上.他也曾经请几个下士喝过麦酒.一起头的时候,他一味讨好外孙,每逢星期天带他出去,就没命的给他吃苹果和姜汁脆饼,把他吃病了.后来爱米丽亚斩钉截铁的说除非外公人格担保,答应永远不再给乔治吃糕饼,棒糖,还有摊儿上别的小吃,就不准带他出去.     为着这孩子,赛特笠太太和她女儿闹得很不欢,甚至于私底下互相猜忌.那时乔治还小,一天黄昏,爱米丽亚坐在小客厅里做活,也没有留心老太太什么时候走了出去.孩子本来好好的睡在楼上,忽然哭起来了,她凭着本能知道出了事,连忙跑到孩子屋里去,看见赛特笠太太正在偷偷的喂孩子吃德菲氏"仙露灵药".爱米丽亚的性子本来比谁都和软温柔,可是一旦发现竟有人敢越过她的头多管她儿子的事情,气得浑身打战,苍白的脸蛋儿涨得和她十二岁的时候一样红.她从母亲手里抢过孩子来,一把夺了瓶子,把个老太太惊得目瞪口呆.她母亲手里还拿着干坏事用的匙子,也大怒起来.     爱米丽亚砰的一声把瓶子扔在壁炉里,然后两只手抱着儿子,使劲的把他摇来摇去,恶狠狠的瞪着母亲叫道:"妈妈,我不准孩子吃毒药."     老太太答道:"毒药!爱米丽亚,你对自己的娘说这种话吗?"     "除了配色勒医生开的方子,我不许他吃别的药.他说德菲氏'仙露灵药,是有毒的."     赛特笠太太道:"好,原来你以为我是杀人的凶手.你对自己的娘竟说这种话!我是倒了楣的人,现在是没有地位的了.从前我坐马车,现在只能走路了.可是我倒不知道自己会杀人,这真是新闻,多谢你告诉我."     可怜的女孩儿有的是眼泪,哭着说道:"妈妈,别跟我过不去.我的意思并不是说......我的意思是说......我并不是说你要害我的宝贝孩子,不过......"     "亲爱的,你并不是说我要害你的孩子,不过说我是杀人的凶手罢了.既然这样,我该上贝莱去坐牢才对呢.不知怎么的,你小的时候我倒没有毒死你,还给你受最好的教育,大捧的钱拿出去,请了第一等的先生来教导你.唉,我养了五胎,只带大了两个,最宝贝的就是这个女儿.闹什么气管炎啦,百日咳啦,痧子啦,出牙啦,都是我亲身伺候.大来不惜工本的为她请了外国教师,又送到密纳佛大厦读书.我小的时候可没有这样的福气.我孝顺父母,希望多活几年,多帮忙别人,哪儿能够一天到晚愁眉苦脸的躲在屋子里充太太奶奶呢?我最疼的孩子颠倒说我是杀人的凶手.唉,奥斯本太太,但愿你别像我一样,在胸口养了一条毒蛇,这是我的祷告."     做女儿的不知所措,说道:"妈妈,妈妈!"抱在手里的孩子也跟着没命的哭喊.     "真是的,我倒成了凶手了.爱米丽亚,跪下求上帝把你那狠毒的心肠洗洗干净,免得你这样忘恩负义.但愿上帝也像我一样,能够原谅你."赛特笠太太扬着脸儿,摔手摔脚的出去了.她那篇慈悲的祝祷也就到这里为止.     娘儿两个从此感情上有了裂痕,赛特笠太太这口气到死没有全消.自从拌过嘴以后,老太太什么事都占了上风,而且使出女人的特别本领,用种种法子连续不断的让她的对手觉得难堪.譬如说,吵架以后好几个星期她见了爱米丽亚不瞅不睬.她警告佣人别去碰那孩子,免得惹奥斯本太太生气.每天为乔杰煮的饭菜,她一定先请女儿过目,省得回头又说有毒药.每逢邻居们问候孩子身体怎样,她便尖酸的叫他们去问奥斯本太太;她说她自己是从来不问孩子好歹的;虽然孩子是她自己的亲外孙,心坎儿上的小宝贝,可是她手都不挨他,因为她不会管孩子,没准会把他弄死.每逢配色勒先生来治病,开口探问病情,她就拿出最尖酸刻薄的态度来对待他.那外科医生说他承铁色尔乌德夫人看得起,时常给她府上的人治病,倒是大家客气,赛特笠老太太虽然从来不付医药费,那架子竟比铁色尔乌德夫人还大.看来爱米丽亚的妒忌心也并不小.凡是做母亲的看见别人管她的孩子,就觉得着急,生怕他们夺了孩子的感情.爱米丽亚就是这样,有人去摩弄她的儿子,她便心神不定.她不准克拉浦太太和那女佣人照管乔杰,也不要她们给他穿衣服,就好像她不放心让她们擦洗丈夫小照的框子一样.她把那张像挂在小床的床头上;从前她就是从这张小床上移到他那里去的,如今又退回来了.她在这儿静静的过了多少冗长的岁月,她常常哭,可是也很快乐.     爱米丽亚最心爱的东西都在这间小屋子里.她在这儿一心养育儿子,凡是他有什么小灾小病,便仔仔细细给他调理,对他真正是疼爱备至.在儿子身上,她看见了死去的丈夫,只不过儿子比爸爸更好,竟活是在天堂里走了一转回来的乔治.不论在声音,相貌,和动作之中,孩子和父亲相像的地方真多,那寡妇见他这样,往往一时心动神摇,把他紧紧的搂着落下泪来.孩子问她为什么哭,她坦白的告诉他说因为他和父亲长得像.她不断的和儿子谈起死去的爸爸,谈起自己怎么爱丈夫,其实那孩子还是一片混沌,听着什么也不懂.她对儿子说起话来没个完,竟比她对乔治本人或是小时候的心腹朋友说的话还多.当着父母,她这些肺腑里的言语是不肯吐露的.她心里的一片痴情,从来不告诉别人,只有对儿子才倾筐倒箧的说了个罄尽,其实他又何尝比那老两口子了解她的苦处呢?这女人的快乐也近于痛苦,或者可说她的感情过于细腻,只能用眼泪来表达.她那么脆弱,那么多愁善感,也许我根本不该在书里描写她的感觉.配色勒医生(他现在成了个走红的妇科医生,有一辆深绿的自备马车,着实讲究,孟却斯脱广场还有一座房子,而且不久就可以得到爵士的封号)......配色勒医生告诉我说,孩子断奶的时候她难过得摘了心肝似的,只怕连希律(《圣经》中残杀婴儿的暴君.)见了也觉得不忍.好多年以前,配色勒医生心肠着实软,他的妻子对于爱米丽亚太太妒忌得不得了,一直到后来还吃她的醋.     说不定医生太太并不是没来由吃飞醋,在爱米丽亚的小圈子里,好些女人都有同感;她们看见男人一致向着她,心上老大气不愤.差不多所有和她来往的男人都喜欢她;为什么呢?恐怕连他们自己也说不出所以然来.她并不聪明,口角也不俏皮,也不大懂人情世故,也算不上十分漂亮.可是她不论到哪里,男人们都为她动心,都觉得她可爱,女人们都瞧不起她,不明白她有哪一点儿好.我想她所以招人爱,就是因为她性情软弱.男人们一看她那温柔随和,依头顺脑的样子心就软了,自然而然的乐意保护她.我们已经看见,她在营里的时候,统共只有乔治的几个朋友跟她说过话,可是见过她的小伙子没有一个不愿意舍命为她效力.如今她住在福兰,在她的小圈子里,大家也都喜欢她,关心她.就算她是孟哥太太本人......孟哥太太是托钵僧寺院附近著名的孟哥和泼兰登合营公司的大股东,在福兰又有培养菠萝蜜的温室,十分讲究;她到夏天请吃早饭,连公爵伯爵都来赏光;她在教区坐着大马车来来去去,跟班全穿上华丽的黄色号衣,拉车子的几匹栗毛马儿比坎星顿皇家马厩里的好马还显得神骏;......我刚才说,就算她是孟哥太太本人,或是她的媳妇玛丽.孟哥太太(她是卡色莫尔迪伯爵的女儿,下嫁给公司老板的),附近的商人也不能对她更加尊敬.温柔的年青寡妇走过他们的铺子,或是进去买一些小东西,他们总是客气得了不得.     不但配色勒医生,连他的助手林登先生也坦白承认愿意为奥斯本太太鞠躬尽瘁.附近一带的女佣人和小商人害了病,都请林登医治,大家常常看见他在诊所里看《泰晤士报》.这小伙子很讨人喜欢,在赛特笠太太家里,他比上司更受欢迎,每逢乔杰身上不好,他一天两三回跑去给小家伙治病,从来没想到要收出诊费.他在诊所抽屉里拿了药糖和做清凉散的酸果子等等东西送给小乔杰,给他配的药水,像蜜水儿似的好吃,所以孩子病了反而高兴.乔杰出痧子的时候他的母亲害怕得好像他得了从来没听见过的恶病,在那紧张可怕的一星期里面,林登和他上司配色勒整整两夜没有睡觉.他们为别的病人肯这样尽心竭力吗?菠萝蜜温室的老板的孩子,像拉夫.泼兰登,还有桂多玲.孟哥和桂尼佛.孟哥,也都害过这种小儿常有的病,这两个医生也肯为他们熬夜吗?就拿房东的女儿玛丽.克拉浦来说,她的病还是乔杰传染给她的,他们难道肯为她牺牲睡眠吗?说老实话,他们不肯.至少在玛丽出痧子的时候他们睡得很安心,说她病得不重,不吃药也会好,只给她配了一两次药水,到她病好的时候,随随便便在药里加了些奎宁皮,做做样子.     赛特笠家对面住着一个矮小的法国骑士,在附近各学校里教法文,黄昏时躲在家里拉他那只声音唏哩呼噜的破提琴,弹出来的各种快慢跳舞曲子听上去忒儿伦伦的直抖.这位老先生最讲究礼节,头发里还洒白粉,每逢星期日一定上海默斯密士修院去望弥撒,不论在思想.行动.仪态各方面都和现在常见的法国人大不相同.如今你在扇形连环拱廊遇见的法国人,开出口来就咒骂英国人奸刁,一面抽雪茄烟,一面恶狠狠的对你瞪眼,竟是一大群满面胡须的蛮子.这位特.大朗卢老骑士提到奥斯本太太之前,一定得先把鼻子里的一撮鼻烟吸完了才开口.他斯斯文文的用手一��,把烟屑拂落干净,撮起五个手指头,放在嘴边先亲一亲,然后撒开手送了一个吻,口里叫道:"啊哟!好个妙人儿啊!"他赌神罚誓的说,爱米丽亚走过白朗浦顿的街上,她踩过的地上便会开花.他赶着乔杰叫小爱神,打听他母亲,维纳斯爱情女神,近来好不好?他又对蓓蒂.弗兰那根说她是女神手下得宠的侍者,也是天上的仙女,把蓓蒂弄得莫名其妙.     像这样的例子多的是,其实爱米丽亚并没有费心思去讨大家喜欢,而且并不知道自己有这样好的人缘.他们一家逢星期天就上本区的教堂去做礼拜,堂里有一个和蔼斯文的副牧师,名叫平尼先生,不断的来拜访爱米.他把孩子抱在身上跟他玩,并且愿意白教他读拉丁文.替他管家的姐姐是个老闺女,看见他这样非常生气.她说:"倍尔贝,她这个人是没有什么道理的.那一回她来喝茶,整整一黄昏没开过口.我看她是个没精打采的可怜虫,根本就没有什么感情.你们男人不过是喜欢她的漂亮脸蛋儿罢了.葛立滋小姐有五千镑,还有别的财产,单说性格就比她强一倍,而且照我看起来也比她讨人喜欢.如果她长得好看些,那你就把她当宝贝了."     看来平尼小姐的话很有些道理.男人全不是好东西,能够使他们动情的可不是漂亮的脸蛋儿吗?一个女人尽管像智慧女神密纳佛一般贞洁和聪明,如果相貌平常,他们再也不去睬她,只要她有了一双水汪汪的眼睛,还愁人家不原谅她的糊涂吗?哪怕是最蠢的女人,只要她嘴唇红,声音娇,也还是显得怪动人的.太太小姐们向来最公正,她们凭上面说的理由,肯定所有的漂亮女人全是傻瓜.唉,小姐们,太太们,你们里面既不聪明也不好看的也多着呢.     以上所记的都是我们的女主角一生中的小节目.敬爱的读者想必早已猜到,她活了半辈子,从来没有什么了不起的经历.如果把乔治出世以后七年里面的经过逐天写下来,也找不出几件事情比刚才说起的痧子事件更加重要.有一天,我刚刚提起的那位平尼牧师竟要求她丢弃了奥斯本的名字,改用他的.爱米丽亚听了这话,大吃一惊.她绯红了脸,含着一包眼泪,抖巍巍的回答说承他关心自己和她可怜的儿子,觉得非常感激.可是除了死去的丈夫,她心上决不能有第二个人.     四月二十五日是结婚纪念日,六月十八日是丈夫的忌辰,每逢这两天她关在房里不出来,专诚纪念死去的亲人.就是在平常日子,她每到晚上躺在孩子的摇篮旁边,也是想着他,花的时间根本就没法估计.到白天,她相当忙碌.她得教乔治读书写字,还教他一点儿图画.她常常给孩子讲故事,所以又得自己看些书.孩子接触到外面的事物之后,眼界慢慢开阔,知识逐渐丰富,她就尽量的教导他崇拜天地万物的主宰,虽然在这方面她自己也懂得有限.每天早晚两次,娘儿两个一起祷告上帝;温柔的母亲全心全意的求上天保佑,儿子刁嘴咬舌的跟着她学,叫人看了又敬畏又感动.我想凡是旁观的人,或是回想到自己小时候这样祷告过的人,没有一个不觉得感动的.他们每次祈祷,总不忘记恳求上帝保佑亲爱的爸爸,口气里好像他还活着,就在那间屋子里.     爱米丽亚一天到晚没有空闲.她每天把这位小少爷收拾得干净整齐,早饭前送他出去呼吸新鲜空气,外公也借此有个推托,可以不去"办公".她又得别出心裁给儿子做几件漂亮的衣服,既然要俭省,便把自己新婚的时候所有的好衣服都剪开来给他改做,反正她自己只穿一件黑褂子,头上戴一顶系黑带子的草帽.她的母亲因此很不高兴,因为老太太是喜欢颜色衣服的,穷了以后更喜欢花哨的打扮.除了这些事情之外,她还得挤出时间服侍父母.她费力劳神的学会了玩叶子戏,每逢父亲不到俱乐部去,她就一黄昏陪他斗牌.他爱听唱歌的时候她就唱......爱听唱歌是个好现象,因为他听到一半总是舒舒服服的睡着了.他的信呀,说明书呀,计划书呀,章程呀,多得没个了结,都要她起稿子和誊写.老先生从前的老朋友收到的通知,说他现在是无灰黑金刚钻煤公司的代理人,朋友们或一般人需要品质最上乘的煤,可以由他经手购买,价格是每考德隆(英国已经废除的度量衡名,用来量煤及石灰等物.)多少先令,这通知也是她的笔迹.赛特笠本人不过在传单上签个花名,然后再用他那抖巍巍的书记字开了地址寄出去.都宾少佐也收到一张,是他代理人考克恩和格里恩乌德转给他的.当时少佐正在玛德拉斯,用不着煤,不过传单上的笔迹是认得出来的.天啊!他只要能把写传单的小手握在自己手里,什么代价都愿意付.过了不久,少佐又收到一张传单,上面说:约.赛特笠股份公司已在波尔多.奥泊图.圣.玛丽各地设立代办处,经销名贵葡萄酒.雪利酒.红酒,价格公道,如蒙诸亲好友以及各界人仕惠顾,本公司当予以各种便利.都宾得到这点暗示,狠命的运动当地的总督.司令.法官,还有军队里的人,都去定酒,反正是行政区里所有的熟人没漏掉一个.他写信到赛特笠股份公司里去定酒,那数量大得连赛特笠先生和克拉浦先生(他便是所谓的"股份公司")都大出意外.可怜的赛特笠老头儿走了这步突如其来的好运,原想在市中心造一所办公厅,雇一群书记,另外辟一个私人码头,并且计划在世界各地设立经销处.可惜好景不常,从此没有接到第二批买卖.老先生已经失去了辨别酒味的能力,军队里的人喝到不能下咽的下等劣酒,大家咒骂经手买酒的都宾少佐.他只好出钱买了好些回来,重新拍卖出去,损失了一大笔钱.那时乔斯已经升到加尔各答税务委员会的委员.他父亲寄给他一巷推销货色的传单,另外附上一封私信,说是他在这次买卖之中打算靠他帮忙,已经运出一批好酒,凭发票取货,请他照数将账单付清.乔斯.赛特笠是在税务委员会做事的,给人家知道他父亲是到处兜销货色的酒商,岂不是像做了贾克.开去(贾克.开去(Ｊａｃｋ　Ｋｅｔｃｈ),１６８６年死,是当时的刽子手,出名的残暴,也有人说他当刽子手的技巧拙劣,所以在他手里受刑的人格外受苦.他的名字现在泛指一切官家的刽子手.)一样的丢脸吗?所以他十分轻蔑的拒绝付款,同时写了一封很厉害的信给父亲,叫他不许多管闲事.遭到拒绝的发票退回原处,赛特笠股份公司只得收下来.所有的亏空,只好把玛德拉斯一注买卖上得来的利润和爱米的一部分存款填进去弥补.     爱米一年有五十镑的抚恤金.除此以外,她丈夫的遗嘱执行人说,奥斯本去世的时候,他代理人手上还有五百镑一注存款.都宾以小乔治保护人的资格,提议把这笔钱存在一家印度商行的分公司里,每年有八分的利钱好拿.赛特笠先生以为少佐对于这笔钱有些不老实的打算,竭力反对,甚至亲自到代理人那里禁止他们用这种方式投资.一问之下,倒使他吃了一惊,原来代理人手上并没有这么一笔钱,他们说上尉剩下的钱不满一百镑,这五百镑想来是另外的一笔钱,详细情形只有都宾少佐知道.这么一来,赛特笠老头儿更相信这里面有些不正当的把戏,便去追问少佐.他拿出爱米近亲的资格,很强硬的要求调查奥斯本上尉从前的账目.他见都宾脸红口吃,一副为难的样子,更断定他不是好人.照他自己的说法,他对那军官发作起来,说的话非常厉害,直截了当的责备他非法侵占了女婿的财产.     都宾听了这话,再也耐不住了.他们原在斯洛德咖啡馆里谈话,都宾不看对手又老又弱,准会跟他闹翻.他刁嘴咬舌的说道:"请到楼上来,我一定要你到楼上来,我要你看看明白究竟谁吃了亏,是我还是可怜的乔治."他把老头儿拉到楼上他的卧房里,从抽屉里拿出奥斯本的账目和一叠债券,......说句公道话,奥斯本欠了债,从来没有赖着不出债券.都宾接着说道:"在英国欠的账他算付清了,可是临死剩下的钱还不满一百镑.我和一两个别的军官倾其所有,凑足这个数目,而你竟说我们企图诳骗寡妇孤儿的钱."赛特笠听了这话,又惭愧又懊恼.事实上,都宾对老头儿撒了一个大谎,他不但葬了乔治,付了爱米丽亚的医药费和路费,并且所有的五百镑全是他一个人拿出来的.     关于这些费用,奥斯本老头儿从来没有想到,不但是他,爱米丽亚家里别的亲戚,甚至于连她本人,也没有想到.她相信都宾上尉,当他是个会计,他的一笔账虽然十分混乱,她却不起疑心,并没有知道自己欠了他这么些钱.     她很守信用,一年写两三封信到玛德拉斯给他,说来说去全是关于乔杰的消息.他把这些信当宝贝似的藏起来.爱米丽亚写了信,他立刻就回,可是从来不先写.他不断的送礼给她和干儿子.他从中国寄回来一匣围巾和一副象牙棋子:兵卒是绿色和白色的小人儿,手里拿着真的剑和盾牌;武士骑在马上;城堡装在象背上.配色勒先生说:"孟哥太太的一副也没有这样精致呢."象棋是乔杰的宝贝,他生平第一封信便是写给他干爹向他道谢.都宾还寄来许多蜜饯.酸辣菜等等食品,这位小爷开了壁橱偷吃,差点儿没送了命.这些东西辣得要命,他以为上帝因为他偷嘴,所以罚他.爱米写信给少佐报告这次不幸的事件,写得很幽默.少佐看她精神逐渐复原,居然能说说笑话,心里很高兴.他又送来两条披肩,白的一条给她,黑的一条有棕榈叶花纹的给她母亲;另外有两条红围脖,送给赛特笠老先生和乔杰冬天里戴.赛特笠太太知道披肩至少值五十基尼一条.她围上披肩,盛装走到白朗浦顿教堂去做礼拜,所有的女朋友都来祝贺她,夸奖这条披肩富丽.赛特笠太太对克拉浦太太和一切白朗浦顿的朋友说:"可惜爱米不要他.乔斯从来不肯送我们这样贵重的礼.我知道,他嫌着我们娘儿,什么都不愿意多给.谁都看得出,少佐一片痴心恋着她,可是只要我提了一声,她就红着脸,眼泪鼻涕的跑到楼上对着那相片儿发愣.我一看见那相片儿就讨厌.奥斯本一家全可恶,有了钱就骄傲的了不得,碰见这种人,也算我们倒楣."     由此可见乔治小时候的环境很寒酸,四周围的人也都上不得台盘.这孩子身体单薄,脾气骄横,而且很神经质,又因为从小受了女人的调教,有些妞儿气.他热烈的爱他那温柔的妈妈,可是对她非常任性.在他小天地里的人都得听他指挥.他渐渐长大,态度倨傲,和父亲越长越像,引得大人们又惊又叹.他像所有好奇的孩子一样,不论看见什么东西都要问个透彻.他外公觉得他说的话和问的问题着实深奥,心里敬服,于是老是在酒店里讲小家伙怎么有学问有天才,把俱乐部里的人闷得难受.乔治对于外婆很冷淡,不过倒也不和她计较,他四周围的人认为他真是世上无双,他自己反正和他父亲一般骄傲,大约觉得他们的意见很准确.     从他六岁那年起,都宾常常写信给他.少佐问他几时上学,希望他在学校里好好读书;如果不上学校,也得在家请个出色的私人教师.他已经到了受教育的年龄,他的干爹兼保护人表示愿意替孩子付教育费,因为爱米丽亚的进款那么少,这项费用是极难负担的.总之,少佐时刻想着爱米丽亚和她的孩子,委托代理人不时送东西给乔治,像图画书.图画盒.书台等等,一切娱乐用品教育用品,应有尽有.乔治六岁生日前三天,一位先生带着佣人坐着小马车来到赛特笠先生家里,指名儿要见乔治.奥斯本少爷.他是刚特衣街军装铺的吴尔西先生,奉少佐的命令来给小少爷量尺寸做衣服.在从前,小少爷的爸爸奥斯本上尉一向光顾他的铺子的.有时候少佐的两个妹妹坐着自备马车来看他们,说是很欢迎爱米丽亚娘儿一块儿出去兜风,看来也是少佐的意思.两位小姐十分周到,那倚老卖老的态度使爱米丽亚非常不自在,可是她性情随和,什么都肯忍耐下去,再说马车上的装璜又好看,小乔治对它十分醉心.她们两位偶然也要求带孩子到她们家里玩一天;她们住在丹麦山一所漂亮的花园住宅里,暖室里有好葡萄,墙边结着桃子,乔治非常爱去.     有一天,承她们好意,给爱米丽亚带了消息来.她们说这消息非常有意思,是关于她们亲爱的威廉的,爱米丽亚听了准会觉得高兴.     她乐得眼睛都亮了,问道:"什么消息?他要回家了吗?"     不是,绝对不是!看来亲爱的威廉快要结婚了,那位小姐是爱米丽亚的好朋友的亲戚,就是奥多爵士的妹妹葛萝薇娜.奥多.当年奥多夫妇驻在玛德拉斯,她就住到嫂子家里去了.据说人人都称赞她相貌漂亮,而且多才多艺.     爱米丽亚说:"哦!"表示她非常高兴.她说葛萝薇娜和她的老朋友奥多一些长的不像,奥多上校人是十分忠厚的;总而言之,她真的非常高兴.不知为什么,她情不自禁的一把抱起乔治来,满心疼爱的吻着他.她把孩子放下地来的时候,眼圈儿都红了,一路上她始终没有开口......不过她真的非常高兴.

CHAPTER XXXIX A Cynical Chapter Our duty now takes us back for a brief space to some old Hampshire acquaintances of ours, whose hopes respecting the disposal of their rich kinswoman's property were so woefully disappointed. After counting upon thirty thousand pounds from his sister, it was a heavy blow. to Bute Crawley to receive but five; out of which sum, when he had paid his own debts and those of Jim, his son at college, a very small fragment remained to portion off his four plain daughters. Mrs. Bute never knew, or at least never acknowledged, how far her own tyrannous behaviour had tended to ruin her husband. All that woman could do, she vowed and protested she had done. Was it her fault if she did not possess those sycophantic arts which her hypocritical nephew, Pitt Crawley, practised? She wished him all the happiness which he merited out of his ill-gotten gains. "At least the money will remain in the family," she said charitably. "Pitt will never spend it, my dear, that is quite certain; for a greater miser does not exist in England, and he is as odious, though in a different way, as his spendthrift brother, the abandoned Rawdon." So Mrs. Bute, after the first shock of rage and disappointment, began to accommodate herself as best she could to her altered fortunes and to save and retrench with all her might. She instructed her daughters how to bear poverty cheerfully, and invented a thousand notable methods to conceal or evade it. She took them about to balls and public places in the neighbourhood, with praiseworthy energy; nay, she entertained her friends in a hospitable comfortable manner at the Rectory, and much more frequently than before dear Miss Crawley's legacy had fallen in. From her outward bearing nobody would have supposed that the family had been disappointed in their expectations, or have guessed from her frequent appearance in public how she pinched and starved at home. Her girls had more milliners' furniture than they had ever enjoyed before. They appeared perseveringly at the Winchester and Southampton assemblies; they penetrated to Cowes for the race-balls and regatta-gaieties there; and their carriage, with the horses taken from the plough, was at work perpetually, until it began almost to be believed that the four sisters had had fortunes left them by their aunt, whose name the family never mentioned in public but with the most tender gratitude and regard. I know no sort of lying which is more frequent in Vanity Fair than this, and it may be remarked how people who practise it take credit to themselves for their hypocrisy, and fancy that they are exceedingly virtuous and praiseworthy, because they are able to deceive the world with regard to the extent of their means. Mrs. Bute certainly thought herself one of the most virtuous women in England, and the sight of her happy family was an edifying one to strangers. They were so cheerful, so loving, so well-educated, so simple! Martha painted flowers exquisitely and furnished half the charity bazaars in the county. Emma was a regular County Bulbul, and her verses in the Hampshire Telegraph were the glory of its Poet's Corner. Fanny and Matilda sang duets together, Mamma playing the piano, and the other two sisters sitting with their arms round each other's waists and listening affectionately. Nobody saw the poor girls drumming at the duets in private. No one saw Mamma drilling them rigidly hour after hour. In a word, Mrs. Bute put a good face against fortune and kept up appearances in the most virtuous manner. Everything that a good and respectable mother could do Mrs. Bute did. She got over yachting men from Southampton, parsons from the Cathedral Close at Winchester, and officers from the barracks there. She tried to inveigle the young barristers at assizes and encouraged Jim to bring home friends with whom he went out hunting with the H. H. What will not a mother do for the benefit of her beloved ones? Between such a woman and her brother-in-law, the odious Baronet at the Hall, it is manifest that there could be very little in common. The rupture between Bute and his brother Sir Pitt was complete; indeed, between Sir Pitt and the whole county, to which the old man was a scandal. His dislike for respectable society increased with age, and the lodge-gates had not opened to a gentleman's carriage- wheels since Pitt and Lady Jane came to pay their visit of duty after their marriage. That was an awful and unfortunate visit, never to be thought of by the family without horror. Pitt begged his wife, with a ghastly countenance, never to speak of it, and it was only through Mrs. Bute herself, who still knew everything which took place at the Hall, that the circumstances of Sir Pitt's reception of his son and daughter-in-law were ever known at all. As they drove up the avenue of the park in their neat and well- appointed carriage, Pitt remarked with dismay and wrath great gaps among the trees--his trees--which the old Baronet was felling entirely without license. The park wore an aspect of utter dreariness and ruin. The drives were ill kept, and the neat carriage splashed and floundered in muddy pools along the road. The great sweep in front of the terrace and entrance stair was black and covered with mosses; the once trim flower-beds rank and weedy. Shutters were up along almost the whole line of the house; the great hall-door was unbarred after much ringing of the bell; an individual in ribbons was seen flitting up the black oak stair, as Horrocks at length admitted the heir of Queen's Crawley and his bride into the halls of their fathers. He led the way into Sir Pitt's "Library," as it was called, the fumes of tobacco growing stronger as Pitt and Lady Jane approached that apartment, "Sir Pitt ain't very well," Horrocks remarked apologetically and hinted that his master was afflicted with lumbago. The library looked out on the front walk and park. Sir Pitt had opened one of the windows, and was bawling out thence to the postilion and Pitt's servant, who seemed to be about to take the baggage down. "Don't move none of them trunks," he cried, pointing with a pipe which he held in his hand. "It's only a morning visit, Tucker, you fool. Lor, what cracks that off hoss has in his heels! Ain't there no one at the King's Head to rub 'em a little? How do, Pitt? How do, my dear? Come to see the old man, hay? 'Gad--you've a pretty face, too. You ain't like that old horse-godmother, your mother. Come and give old Pitt a kiss, like a good little gal." The embrace disconcerted the daughter-in-law somewhat, as the caresses of the old gentleman, unshorn and perfumed with tobacco, might well do. But she remembered that her brother Southdown had mustachios, and smoked cigars, and submitted to the Baronet with a tolerable grace. "Pitt has got vat," said the Baronet, after this mark of affection. "Does he read ee very long zermons, my dear? Hundredth Psalm, Evening Hymn, hay Pitt? Go and get a glass of Malmsey and a cake for my Lady Jane, Horrocks, you great big booby, and don't stand stearing there like a fat pig. I won't ask you to stop, my dear; you'll find it too stoopid, and so should I too along a Pitt. I'm an old man now, and like my own ways, and my pipe and backgammon of a night." "I can play at backgammon, sir," said Lady Jane, laughing. "I used to play with Papa and Miss Crawley, didn't I, Mr. Crawley?" "Lady Jane can play, sir, at the game to which you state that you are so partial," Pitt said haughtily. But she wawn't stop for all that. Naw, naw, goo back to Mudbury and give Mrs. Rincer a benefit; or drive down to the Rectory and ask Buty for a dinner. He'll be charmed to see you, you know; he's so much obliged to you for gettin' the old woman's money. Ha, ha! Some of it will do to patch up the Hall when I'm gone." "I perceive, sir," said Pitt with a heightened voice, "that your people will cut down the timber." "Yees, yees, very fine weather, and seasonable for the time of year," Sir Pitt answered, who had suddenly grown deaf. "But I'm gittin' old, Pitt, now. Law bless you, you ain't far from fifty yourself. But he wears well, my pretty Lady Jane, don't he? It's all godliness, sobriety, and a moral life. Look at me, I'm not very fur from fowr-score--he, he"; and he laughed, and took snuff, and leered at her and pinched her hand. Pitt once more brought the conversation back to the timber, but the Baronet was deaf again in an instant. "I'm gittin' very old, and have been cruel bad this year with the lumbago. I shan't be here now for long; but I'm glad ee've come, daughter-in-law. I like your face, Lady Jane: it's got none of the damned high-boned Binkie look in it; and I'll give ee something pretty, my dear, to go to Court in." And he shuffled across the room to a cupboard, from which he took a little old case containing jewels of some value. "Take that," said he, "my dear; it belonged to my mother, and afterwards to the first Lady Binkie. Pretty pearls--never gave 'em the ironmonger's daughter. No, no. Take 'em and put 'em up quick," said he, thrusting the case into his daughter's hand, and clapping the door of the cabinet to, as Horrocks entered with a salver and refreshments. "What have you a been and given Pitt's wife?" said the individual in ribbons, when Pitt and Lady Jane had taken leave of the old gentleman. It was Miss Horrocks, the butler's daughter--the cause of the scandal throughout the county--the lady who reigned now almost supreme at Queen's Crawley. The rise and progress of those Ribbons had been marked with dismay by the county and family. The Ribbons opened an account at the Mudbury Branch Savings Bank; the Ribbons drove to church, monopolising the pony-chaise, which was for the use of the servants at the Hall. The domestics were dismissed at her pleasure. The Scotch gardener, who still lingered on the premises, taking a pride in his walls and hot-houses, and indeed making a pretty good livelihood by the garden, which he farmed, and of which he sold the produce at Southampton, found the Ribbons eating peaches on a sunshiny morning at the south-wall, and had his ears boxed when he remonstrated about this attack on his property. He and his Scotch wife and his Scotch children, the only respectable inhabitants of Queen's Crawley, were forced to migrate, with their goods and their chattels, and left the stately comfortable gardens to go to waste, and the flower-beds to run to seed. Poor Lady Crawley's rose-garden became the dreariest wilderness. Only two or three domestics shuddered in the bleak old servants' hall. The stables and offices were vacant, and shut up, and half ruined. Sir Pitt lived in private, and boozed nightly with Horrocks, his butler or house- steward (as he now began to be called), and the abandoned Ribbons. The times were very much changed since the period when she drove to Mudbury in the spring-cart and called the small tradesmen "Sir." It may have been shame, or it may have been dislike of his neighbours, but the old Cynic of Queen's Crawley hardly issued from his park- gates at all now. He quarrelled with his agents and screwed his tenants by letter. His days were passed in conducting his own correspondence; the lawyers and farm-bailiffs who had to do business with him could not reach him but through the Ribbons, who received them at the door of the housekeeper's room, which commanded the back entrance by which they were admitted; and so the Baronet's daily perplexities increased, and his embarrassments multiplied round him. The horror of Pitt Crawley may be imagined, as these reports of his father's dotage reached the most exemplary and correct of gentlemen. He trembled daily lest he should hear that the Ribbons was proclaimed his second legal mother-in-law. After that first and last visit, his father's name was never mentioned in Pitt's polite and genteel establishment. It was the skeleton in his house, and all the family walked by it in terror and silence. The Countess Southdown kept on dropping per coach at the lodge-gate the most exciting tracts, tracts which ought to frighten the hair off your head. Mrs. Bute at the parsonage nightly looked out to see if the sky was red over the elms behind which the Hall stood, and the mansion was on fire. Sir G. Wapshot and Sir H. Fuddlestone, old friends of the house, wouldn't sit on the bench with Sir Pitt at Quarter Sessions, and cut him dead in the High Street of Southampton, where the reprobate stood offering his dirty old hands to them. Nothing had any effect upon him; he put his hands into his pockets, and burst out laughing, as he scrambled into his carriage and four; he used to burst out laughing at Lady Southdown's tracts; and he laughed at his sons, and at the world, and at the Ribbons when she was angry, which was not seldom. Miss Horrocks was installed as housekeeper at Queen's Crawley, and ruled all the domestics there with great majesty and rigour. All the servants were instructed to address her as "Mum," or "Madam"-- and there was one little maid, on her promotion, who persisted in calling her "My Lady," without any rebuke on the part of the housekeeper. "There has been better ladies, and there has been worser, Hester," was Miss Horrocks' reply to this compliment of her inferior; so she ruled, having supreme power over all except her father, whom, however, she treated with considerable haughtiness, warning him not to be too familiar in his behaviour to one "as was to be a Baronet's lady." Indeed, she rehearsed that exalted part in life with great satisfaction to herself, and to the amusement of old Sir Pitt, who chuckled at her airs and graces, and would laugh by the hour together at her assumptions of dignity and imitations of genteel life. He swore it was as good as a play to see her in the character of a fine dame, and he made her put on one of the first Lady Crawley's court-dresses, swearing (entirely to Miss Horrocks' own concurrence) that the dress became her prodigiously, and threatening to drive her off that very instant to Court in a coach- and-four. She had the ransacking of the wardrobes of the two defunct ladies, and cut and hacked their posthumous finery so as to suit her own tastes and figure. And she would have liked to take possession of their jewels and trinkets too; but the old Baronet had locked them away in his private cabinet; nor could she coax or wheedle him out of the keys. And it is a fact, that some time after she left Queen's Crawley a copy-book belonging to this lady was discovered, which showed that she had taken great pains in private to learn the art of writing in general, and especially of writing her own name as Lady Crawley, Lady Betsy Horrocks, Lady Elizabeth Crawley, &c. Though the good people of the Parsonage never went to the Hall and shunned the horrid old dotard its owner, yet they kept a strict knowledge of all that happened there, and were looking out every day for the catastrophe for which Miss Horrocks was also eager. But Fate intervened enviously and prevented her from receiving the reward due to such immaculate love and virtue. One day the Baronet surprised "her ladyship," as he jocularly called her, seated at that old and tuneless piano in the drawing-room, which had scarcely been touched since Becky Sharp played quadrilles upon it--seated at the piano with the utmost gravity and squalling to the best of her power in imitation of the music which she had sometimes heard. The little kitchen-maid on her promotion was standing at her mistress's side, quite delighted during the operation, and wagging her head up and down and crying, "Lor, Mum, 'tis bittiful"--just like a genteel sycophant in a real drawing- room. This incident made the old Baronet roar with laughter, as usual. He narrated the circumstance a dozen times to Horrocks in the course of the evening, and greatly to the discomfiture of Miss Horrocks. He thrummed on the table as if it had been a musical instrument, and squalled in imitation of her manner of singing. He vowed that such a beautiful voice ought to be cultivated and declared she ought to have singing-masters, in which proposals she saw nothing ridiculous. He was in great spirits that night, and drank with his friend and butler an extraordinary quantity of rum-and-water--at a very late hour the faithful friend and domestic conducted his master to his bedroom. Half an hour afterwards there was a great hurry and bustle in the house. Lights went about from window to window in the lonely desolate old Hall, whereof but two or three rooms were ordinarily occupied by its owner. Presently, a boy on a pony went galloping off to Mudbury, to the Doctor's house there. And in another hour (by which fact we ascertain how carefully the excellent Mrs. Bute Crawley had always kept up an understanding with the great house), that lady in her clogs and calash, the Reverend Bute Crawley, and James Crawley, her son, had walked over from the Rectory through the park, and had entered the mansion by the open hall-door. They passed through the hall and the small oak parlour, on the table of which stood the three tumblers and the empty rum-bottle which had served for Sir Pitt's carouse, and through that apartment into Sir Pitt's study, where they found Miss Horrocks, of the guilty ribbons, with a wild air, trying at the presses and escritoires with a bunch of keys. She dropped them with a scream of terror, as little Mrs. Bute's eyes flashed out at her from under her black calash. "Look at that, James and Mr. Crawley," cried Mrs. Bute, pointing at the scared figure of the black-eyed, guilty wench. "He gave 'em me; he gave 'em me!" she cried. "Gave them you, you abandoned creature!" screamed Mrs. Bute. "Bear witness, Mr. Crawley, we found this good-for-nothing woman in the act of stealing your brother's property; and she will be hanged, as I always said she would." Betsy Horrocks, quite daunted, flung herself down on her knees, bursting into tears. But those who know a really good woman are aware that she is not in a hurry to forgive, and that the humiliation of an enemy is a triumph to her soul. "Ring the bell, James," Mrs. Bute said. "Go on ringing it till the people come." The three or four domestics resident in the deserted old house came presently at that jangling and continued summons. "Put that woman in the strong-room," she said. "We caught her in the act of robbing Sir Pitt. Mr. Crawley, you'll make out her committal--and, Beddoes, you'll drive her over in the spring cart, in the morning, to Southampton Gaol." "My dear," interposed the Magistrate and Rector--"she's only--" "Are there no handcuffs?" Mrs. Bute continued, stamping in her clogs. "There used to be handcuffs. Where's the creature's abominable father?" "He DID give 'em me," still cried poor Betsy; "didn't he, Hester? You saw Sir Pitt--you know you did--give 'em me, ever so long ago-- the day after Mudbury fair: not that I want 'em. Take 'em if you think they ain't mine." And here the unhappy wretch pulled out from her pocket a large pair of paste shoe-buckles which had excited her admiration, and which she had just appropriated out of one of the bookcases in the study, where they had lain. "Law, Betsy, how could you go for to tell such a wicked story!" said Hester, the little kitchen-maid late on her promotion--"and to Madame Crawley, so good and kind, and his Rev'rince (with a curtsey), and you may search all MY boxes, Mum, I'm sure, and here's my keys as I'm an honest girl, though of pore parents and workhouse bred--and if you find so much as a beggarly bit of lace or a silk stocking out of all the gownds as YOU'VE had the picking of, may I never go to church agin." "Give up your keys, you hardened hussy," hissed out the virtuous little lady in the calash. "And here's a candle, Mum, and if you please, Mum, I can show you her room, Mum, and the press in the housekeeper's room, Mum, where she keeps heaps and heaps of things, Mum," cried out the eager little Hester with a profusion of curtseys. "Hold your tongue, if you please. I know the room which the creature occupies perfectly well. Mrs. Brown, have the goodness to come with me, and Beddoes don't you lose sight of that woman," said Mrs. Bute, seizing the candle. "Mr. Crawley, you had better go upstairs and see that they are not murdering your unfortunate brother"--and the calash, escorted by Mrs. Brown, walked away to the apartment which, as she said truly, she knew perfectly well. Bute went upstairs and found the Doctor from Mudbury, with the frightened Horrocks over his master in a chair. They were trying to bleed Sir Pitt Crawley. With the early morning an express was sent off to Mr. Pitt Crawley by the Rector's lady, who assumed the command of everything, and had watched the old Baronet through the night. He had been brought back to a sort of life; he could not speak, but seemed to recognize people. Mrs. Bute kept resolutely by his bedside. She never seemed to want to sleep, that little woman, and did not close her fiery black eyes once, though the Doctor snored in the arm-chair. Horrocks made some wild efforts to assert his authority and assist his master; but Mrs. Bute called him a tipsy old wretch and bade him never show his face again in that house, or he should be transported like his abominable daughter. Terrified by her manner, he slunk down to the oak parlour where Mr. James was, who, having tried the bottle standing there and found no liquor in it, ordered Mr. Horrocks to get another bottle of rum, which he fetched, with clean glasses, and to which the Rector and his son sat down, ordering Horrocks to put down the keys at that instant and never to show his face again. Cowed by this behaviour, Horrocks gave up the keys, and he and his daughter slunk off silently through the night and gave up possession of the house of Queen's Crawley. 第 三 十 九 章    说些看破世情的话     现在我们应该稍微谈谈汉泊郡几个熟人的近况了.有钱的姑妈那份遗产分配的结果,真叫他们大失所望.别德.克劳莱本来指望姐姐传给他三万镑,结果只到手五千镑,真像当头一棍.这五千镑钱付了他自己的和詹姆士(就是在大学读书的儿子)的积欠,也就所余无几.四个丑女儿的嫁妆还是少得可怜.别德太太从前那蛮横霸道的行径把丈夫害得不浅,不过她本人无从知道,至少在表面上她死也不肯认错.她赌神罚誓的说,凡是女人所能做到的,她都已经尽力做过了.她不会像那个假道学毕脱.克劳莱那么拍马屁,难道是她的错处吗?毕脱的钱财来路不正,如果他应该享这样的福气,就让他享吧.她宽宏大量的说道:"不管怎样,钱还在自己家里.亲爱的,毕脱不会把钱花掉,那准没有错.全英国找不出他那样的守财奴.他和他那乱花钱的弟弟,那该死的罗登,一样可恶,不过方式不同而已."     第一阵的气恼和失望过去之后,别德太太眼见自己家里运气不济,只得适应环境,竭力紧缩节省.她教导女孩儿们应该乐天安贫;她自己是会当家的主妇,想出各种各样的方法来遮掩和躲避贫穷.她不时带她们到附近的跳舞会和公共场所去露面,那努力不懈的精神真正了不起.不但这样,她还请朋友们到她家里款待,做出非常好客的样子,花钱着实阔绰.从前有希望得克劳莱小姐遗产的时候,请客的次数倒要少得多.从别德太太的行事来看,没有人猜得出他们的希望落了空.她不断的在外面出头露面,别人再想不到她在家怎么克扣挨饿.她的女儿们在衣着方面也比以前讲究.她们不断参加温却斯德和沙乌撒泼顿的集会,卡吴思的赛马跳舞会和赛船期间的各种宴乐,也有她们的份.家里的马车,叫耕田的马儿拉着,很少有闲着的时候,到后来外面的人将信将疑,以为姑妈当真留了遗产给这四个侄女儿了.他们一家在大庭广众提起克劳莱小姐,总是恭而敬之,表示感激她,舍不得她.照我看来,名利场上一切不老实的张致,再没有比装场面摆阔更普遍的了.这些人还要自鸣得意,以为能够把自己家里实在的经济情形隐瞒起来,就算德行超群,值得大家赞扬.     别德太太就自以为是全英国少见的贤德妇人.不知内幕的陌生人瞧着地的幸福家庭,一定觉得感动.他们家里的人又有教育,待人又直爽,而且相亲相爱,那空气是融洽极了.玛莎画的花儿十分精美,区里所有的义卖会,倒有一半出卖她的作品.爱玛是区里的夜莺,"汉泊郡电讯"上诗人的园地里,她的诗歌占着光荣的地位.范尼和玛蒂尔达表演双人合唱,由妈妈弹琴,另外的两姊妹彼此勾着腰,亲亲热热的坐在旁边听.没人看见可怜的姑娘们私底下怎么在琴上用功,做妈妈的怎么一小时一小时毫不放松的给她们练习.总而言之,别德太太是个贤慧的女人,会装门面,在外场上敷衍得很像样.     凡是顾体统尽责任的好母亲能尽力的地方,别德太太都尽过力了.她从沙乌撒泼顿请了乘快艇出来取乐的游客,从温却斯德教堂围场请了牧师,从军营里请了军官,在家款待他们.法院开庭的时候她想法勾引年轻律师到她家里去,又怂恿詹姆把他那几个一起打猎的朋友请回来,为了亲爱的女儿们,做母亲的有什么事不肯干呢?     这样的女人,和大房子里那个混帐的大伯显然是格格不入的.别德和他哥哥毕脱爵士已经完全决绝;不但他,全区的人都认为老头儿失尽体统,没有人愿意和他来往.他越老越不喜欢相与上等人,自从毕脱和吉恩夫人结婚后回来见过礼之后,有身分人家的马车就没有进过大厦的门.     见礼的一天弄得十分尴尬,结果不欢而散.他们家里的人想起来就忍不住打寒颤.毕脱面无人色的恳求他妻子再不要提起这件事.若不是别德太太还像从前似的把大厦里的动静都打听得一清二楚,毕脱爵士接待儿子媳妇的情形根本不会有人知道.     他们那设备完美装璜富丽的马车走过园地的时候,毕脱发现树林子里面有好多空隙,原来从男爵竟自作主张把好些树木(儿子的树木)都斫下来了,毕脱看了又惊又气.园地上好久没人收拾,一片荒凉.跑道也没有修好,漂亮的马车在一汪子一汪子的泥水里东倒西歪的走,弄得污水四溅.平台前面的大转角和通平台的石级颜色污黑,长满了青苔,原来很整齐的花床里密密麻麻长着野草.屋子前面的百叶窗差不多全都关着,拉了半天门铃,霍洛克斯才来开门,把女王的克劳莱的承继人和他新妇让到祖宗房子里去.他们一踏进门,就看见一个系缎带的女人沿着黑橡木的楼梯一溜烟飞跑上去.霍洛克斯引着毕脱夫妇向毕脱爵士名义上的"书房"那边走.他们走近书房,板烟味儿就越来越重.霍洛克斯道歉似的说道:"毕脱爵士身体不好."接着又说他主人犯了腰痛.     书房的窗户正对园地和跑道,毕脱爵士开了一扇窗,正在向车夫和毕脱的佣人大声嚷嚷,这两个人大概在把行李从车上搬下来.     他手里拿着烟斗,指着他们嚷道:"别把箱子拿下来.脱格,你这糊涂东西,他们不过来看看我,就要走的.嗳哟!右边那匹马的蹄子裂了好几个口子,怎么国王的脑袋酒店里也没人给它擦一擦?毕脱,好哇?亲爱的,好哇?来看看老头儿,是不是?天哪,你长得真好看.你妈绷着一张长脸,跟你一点儿不像.好孩子,乖乖的过来亲亲毕脱老头儿."     这一吻吻得媳妇手足无措起来.一则老头儿没有剃胡子,二则他一股子板烟臭,怪不得她为难.幸亏她想起哥哥莎吴塞唐也留胡子,也抽雪茄烟,面子上没有露出不欢喜的样子.     从男爵跟媳妇亲热过以后,便道:"毕脱长胖了.亲爱的,他可常常对你唠唠叨叨的讲道吗?第一百首圣诗,晚祷赞美诗,哈哈,毕脱,对不对?霍洛克斯,你这个呆子,别站在这儿像肥猪那么白瞪着眼,快去斟杯葡萄酒来请吉恩夫人喝,再拿一个饼来.不过我不留你住了,亲爱的.你在这儿也闷得慌.就拿我来说吧,凡是名叫毕脱的人都叫我觉得腻烦.我老了,有我自己的习惯,晚上爱抽袋烟,下下棋."     吉恩夫人笑道:"我也会下.我和我爸爸,和克劳莱小姐,都玩过的.对不对,克劳莱先生?"     毕脱目无下尘的答道:"您所喜欢的那种游戏,吉恩夫人也会玩."     "话是这样说,她不会住下来的.不必了,不必了,你们还是回到默特白莱去住旅馆,让林色太太赚几个钱吧.要不,就上牧师家里去,叫别德请你们吃饭.他一定欢迎.你把老婆子的钱抢过来了,他心里感激得很呢.哈,哈!到我死了你得拿些钱出来修理这房子."     毕脱提高声音说道:"我发现您的佣人们快要把木材都斫光了."     毕脱爵士忽然成了聋子,说:"不错,不错,天气好,时令也对.可是呀,毕脱,我老了.求老天保佑你,你也是快五十的人了.漂亮的吉恩夫人,他看着不显老,是不是?因为他敬天敬神,不喝酒,不荒唐.瞧我,我快八十了.嘻,嘻!"他笑着,吸了一撮鼻烟,乜斜着眼睛看看她,又捏捏她的手.     毕脱重新提到木材的事情,从男爵立刻又成了聋子.     "我老得不成了.今年的腰痛发的好厉害.我是活不长的了.媳妇啊,你来了我很高兴.我喜欢你的相貌,平葛家的人全是一脸大骨头,我顶不爱看,好在你不像他们.亲爱的,让我给你点儿好看的首饰,进宫的时候好戴."他拐着腿穿过房间,在壁橱里拿出一只很旧的小盒子,里面的珠宝还值几个钱.他说:"这个给你,亲爱的.这些本来是我母亲的东西,后来给了第一个克劳莱夫人.这些珠子好看的很,我没肯把它给那铁器商人的女儿.不,不,你别客气了,赶快把匣子收起来!"他一面说,一面把盒子塞在媳妇手里,将壁橱砰的一声关上,那时恰好霍洛克斯托着一盘茶点进来.     毕脱和吉恩夫人辞别回家以后,系缎带的姑娘质问他道:"你把什么东西送给毕脱老婆的?"她就是佣人头儿的女儿霍洛克斯姑娘.区里面多少飞短流长都因她而起.如今她在女王的克劳莱大厦差不多是独当一面.     这缎带姑娘一朝发迹的经过,使区里的人和家里的人都觉得骇然.缎带在墨特白莱储蓄银行分行立了存折.缎带把佣人们公用的小马车霸占过来,独自坐着上教堂做礼拜.家里佣人有不中她的意的都歇了生意.那苏格兰花匠本来不想走;各个暖房里和墙上全长着他种的果子,他自己看了着实得意.靠着有个花园经营经营,把出产的果子菜蔬在沙乌撒泼顿出卖,他倒也很能过日子.一天早晨,太阳很好,他发现缎带在南墙旁边吃他的桃子;他说桃子是他的,不准她吃,便和她争论起来,结果脸上着了几个嘴巴子.在女王的克劳莱,成体统的人只剩他和他的苏格兰女人跟苏格兰孩子,如今他们只得带着自己的家具什物搬出去.这座又雄壮又舒服的大花园就此满目荒凉,花床也弄得一团糟.可怜的克劳莱夫人的玫瑰花圃只剩下一片野草,萧条得可怜.下房里清灰冷火,只剩两三个佣人在里面打寒噤.马房和家务室里空落落的,都关了起来,而且一半已经稀破的了.毕脱爵士不见外人,到黄昏和他的佣人头儿霍洛克斯......现在称大总管......和那不要脸的缎带姑娘一块儿喝酒.缎带从前只好搭着货车到墨特白莱去,见了做小买卖的还得称他们"先生",她的今昔真正是大不相同.女王的克劳莱大厦的老头儿谁都瞧不上眼,难得走出大门,不知道是他自己脸上下不来,还是本来懒得跟街坊邻舍周旋.他和所有的代理人都拌过嘴,所以只好亲手写信去勒�薜杌�.他一天到晚忙着写信.律师和农场上的总管有事情和他商量,也必须经过缎带.管家娘子的屋子正对着后门,这些人从后门进来,她就在管家娘子屋子门前接见他们.这样,从男爵的困难一天比一天多,事情弄得一团糟.     毕脱.克劳莱是个品行端方的守礼君子,听见父亲这么糊涂荒唐,心里那份气恼也就不消说了.他每天担惊受怕,唯恐缎带成了他第二个合法的后娘.那一次回家见礼以后,他从此没有再回老家.在毕脱高尚文雅的家庭里,大家从来不提他父亲的名字.这是不可外扬的家丑,家里所有的人都吓的不敢多嘴.莎吴塞唐伯爵夫人每逢有邮车下乡便寄一包传教册子给老头儿,从来不脱一班.这些小册子写得惊心动魄,你看了准会吓得头发一根根掉下来.牧师住宅里的别德太太每夜出来巡查,看看榆树顶上的天空中有没有红光,生怕榆树后面的大房子失火.杰.活泊夏脱爵士和赫.弗特尔斯顿爵士本来是克劳莱家里的老朋友,如今治安推事定期会议开会的时候竟拒绝和毕脱爵士同时列席.他们在沙乌撒泼顿大街上看见这无赖的老头子伸出肮脏的手来和他们招呼,睬也不睬他.老头儿什么都不在乎,只把手插在口袋里算了.他一面爬到大马车里坐下来,一面哈哈大笑.他嘲笑莎吴塞唐夫人的小册子,嘲笑自己的两个儿子,嘲笑所有的人.缎带生气的时候(她时常生气)他也嘲笑缎带.     霍洛克斯小姐成了女王的克劳莱大厦的管家娘子,对佣人们神气活现,而且非常苛刻.她吩咐所有的下人都叫她"太太",家里有一个小丫头,一心指望能够高升,口口声声称她"爵士夫人",管家娘子听了倒也不责备她.霍洛克斯小姐听得手底下的人奉承她,只说:"海丝德,比我强的太太固然是有的,不如我的也不少哩."她大权在握,除了父亲之外,其余的人都得听她指挥.就是对父亲,她也傲头傲脑,她说她将来要做从男爵的太太,她爹不能对她太随便.她还扮演尊贵的爵士夫人,结果她自己很满意,毕脱爵士只觉得滑稽.他看她装模作样,便嘻嘻的笑起来.有时候她摆足架子,学着时髦太太的气派,乐得那老头儿一笑就笑个把钟头.他赌神罚誓,说是瞧着她扮演上等太太竟比看戏还有趣.他叫她穿上第一位克劳莱夫人进宫觐见的礼服,发誓说她穿着这衣裳漂亮的了不得,这句话,霍洛克斯小姐听了完全同意.老头儿又吓唬她,说要带她坐着马车,赶着四匹马立刻到宫里去.两位死去的太太穿过的旧东西都给她翻腾出来,漂亮些的衣服给她剪的剪,撕的撕,照着她的身材重做,那式样也改得合她的脾胃.她未尝不想把她们的珠宝首饰也接收过来,无奈从男爵老头儿把它们都锁在私人的小橱子里,随她甜言蜜语,再也不肯把钥匙交出来.告诉你句真话,这位姑娘离开女王的克劳莱大厦之后,还留下一本习字帖,足见她在下苦功练字.她对于自己的签名尤其练得认真,写了好多"克劳莱夫人","蓓翠.霍洛克斯夫人","伊莉莎白.克劳莱夫人"等等.     牧师住宅里那几位贤德好人从来不到大房子里去,看见那讨人厌的老糊涂躲着不理他,可是那里发生的事情他们却没有一件不知道,天天防备着大祸临头.霍洛克斯小姐本人急煎煎的巴不得这件事快快成功,只可惜天地造化也妒忌她,像她这样贤淑贞静,用情专一,偏不给她应得的酬报.     从男爵老是打趣着称她"太太".有一天,他冷不防走到客厅里,看见她正颜厉色的坐在那架走了音的旧钢琴前面(这钢琴自从利蓓加在上面弹过跳舞曲子之后差不多没有人碰过),嘴里哇呀哇呀的乱嚷.原来她也听过别人唱歌,正在竭力模仿.那指望她提拔的洗碗小丫头站在旁边听得高兴,摇头摆脑的说:"天老爷!唱得真好听啊,太太!"那腔调和上流社会里的高等蔑片不相上下.     从男爵看了,和平常一样高兴得哈哈大笑.那天黄昏他把这件事讲给霍洛克斯听,形容了十几遍,惹得霍洛克斯姑娘脸上羞答答的下不来.老头儿把桌子权当钢琴,十个指头在桌面上乱弹,口里学她那样大叫大嚷.他赌神罚誓的说这样悦耳的声音值得好好训练,应该去请些唱歌教师来教导她,她听了这话也并不觉得有什么可笑的地方.那一夜,他兴高采烈,和他的朋友那佣人头儿一起喝了不知多少搀水的甜酒.直到夜深,他那忠心的佣人,又是他的好朋友,才扶他去睡.     半小时之后,屋子里忽然乱哄哄的忙碌起来.这所大房子往常十分冷落,动用的只有两三间屋子,那天晚上却见一个个窗口都射出灯光来.不久,打杂的小厮骑上小马急急的到墨特白莱去请医生.再过了一小时,别德.克劳莱太太穿了厚底靴,裹着包头巾,和别德.克劳莱牧师,还有她儿子詹姆士.克劳莱,一起从牧师住宅穿过花园,从大门进来,由此可见这位了不起的太太把大房子里的事情打听得多么仔细.     他们穿过大厅和装了橡木护壁板的小客厅(小客厅的桌子上还摆着毕脱爵士他们喝酒用的三只空酒杯和空的甜酒瓶子),一直走到毕脱爵士的书房里,可可的碰见那不干不净的缎带姑娘,霍洛克斯小姐.她拿着一把钥匙,手忙脚乱,正在把书桌和柜子打开来,一回头看见别德太太戴着黑包头,底下一双眼睛亮湛湛的瞪着她,吓得哇的一声尖叫起来,一把钥匙都掉在地下.     别德太太指着做贼心虚的黑眼睛姑娘大声说道:"詹姆士.克劳莱先生,你们瞧她!"     霍洛克斯姑娘叫道:"他给我的,是他给我的!"     别德太太尖声嚷道:"你这不要脸的东西,还敢说是他给你的!克劳莱先生,你是证人,咱们明明看见这个不成材的女人在偷你哥哥的东西,这是要处绞刑的,我老早就说她一定不得好死."     这一下把蓓翠.霍洛克斯吓坏了,跪在地下呜呜的哭起来.真正大贤大德的女人一旦看见冤家倒了楣,那真正是从心窝里乐出来,决不肯随便饶他,这个道理凡是认得贤德妇人的大约都明白.     别德太太说:"詹姆士,打铃把屋里所有的人全叫来,他们会齐以前不要停手."铃声当啷当啷的响着,冷清清的大房子里本来只有三四个佣人,都赶来了.     别德太太说:"把这女人关起来!我们亲眼看见她在偷毕脱爵士的东西.克劳莱先生,写一张正式逮捕她的公文.贝多士,明天早上你坐着那小车子把她送到沙乌撒泼顿监牢里去."     牧师是区里的行政长官,他插嘴道:"亲爱的,她不过......"     别德太太跺着厚底鞋嚷道:"怎么没有手铐?从前这儿不是有手铐吗?她那该死的爸爸哪儿去了?"     可怜的蓓翠哭道:"是他给我的.不信你们问海丝德.海丝德,你看见毕脱爵士......你明明看见的......他给我的,......还是好久以前的事,......墨特白莱赶集以后第二天他给我的.我又没问他要.如果你们说不是我的,就拿去得了."那可怜东西说到这里,从口袋里掏出一副很大的水钻鞋扣.这副鞋扣本来在书房的书橱里,她看着喜欢,刚从橱里拿出来.     海丝德,那指望高升的洗碗丫头,忙道:"唷,蓓翠,你真是坏了心肠胡诌.当着又好心又慈悲的克劳莱太太,还有牧师先生,(说到这里她行了个屈膝礼)亏你怎么撒起谎来了?太太,您请搜我的箱子,这儿是我的钥匙,您拿着.我家虽然苦,我也是在慈善堂里长大的,可是我老老实实的不偷东西.你呀,蓓翠,挑了那么多衣裳.我如果拿了一丁点儿的花边和丝袜子,那我就永世不得上教堂!"     戴包头的贤慧女人咬着牙骂道:"你这钝皮老脸的死丫头,把钥匙给我."     "蜡烛在这儿,太太,倘若您要我领路的话,太太,我可以带着您到她屋里去,太太,还有管家娘子屋里那口柜子,太太,她在里头藏了好些好些东西,太太."热心的海丝德一面说,一面没命的弯腰屈膝,对别德太太行礼.     "你还是闭着你那嘴好些.那东西住在哪儿我知道得清楚着呢.白朗太太,请你跟着我来.贝多士,好好儿看住那女的."别德太太一面说话,一面拿起蜡烛来......"克劳莱先生,我看你还是到楼上去瞧瞧,别叫他们把你那作孽的哥哥治死了."裹包头的太太叫白朗太太跟着,一直走到霍洛克斯姑娘的屋子里去,......她说的不错,那女人住在哪儿她知道得清楚着呢.     别德走到楼上,看见医生已经从墨特白莱赶来了.毕脱爵士坐在椅子里,霍洛克斯战战兢兢的弯着腰服侍他.他们正在想法子给毕脱.克劳莱爵士放血.     牧师太太发号施令,不但在从男爵身旁守了一夜,而且一早就送了一封快信给毕脱.克劳莱先生.老头儿已经回过来一些;他不会说话,不过似乎见了人还认得清.别德太太十分坚决,守在他床旁边不走.这矮个子女人竟好像不需要睡觉的,一双亮澄澄的黑眼睛整整一夜不曾合过一次,倒是那医生睡在圈椅里打呼噜.霍洛克斯着急起来,竭力要想维持原来的权力,给他主子撑腰.结果挨了别德太太一顿骂,说他是个不成材的酒鬼,叫他再也别在这屋里露脸,要不然也会像他那该死的女儿一样,当犯人一样发配出去.     他瞧着别德太太凶恶,心里也害怕,偷偷的溜到楼下的小客厅里,顶头遇见詹姆士先生.詹姆士把酒瓶倒了一倒,发现里面没有酒,便叫霍洛克斯再去拿一瓶甜酒来.霍洛克斯添了酒,又换上干净酒杯.牧师父子俩坐着,叫他放下钥匙立刻滚蛋.那佣人见势头不好,泄了气,只得把钥匙交出来,当晚和女儿两个悄悄的溜之大吉,不敢再盘踞在女王的克劳莱大厦了.

CHAPTER XL In Which Becky Is Recognized by the Family The heir of Crawley arrived at home, in due time, after this catastrophe, and henceforth may be said to have reigned in Queen's Crawley. For though the old Baronet survived many months, he never recovered the use of his intellect or his speech completely, and the government of the estate devolved upon his elder son. In a strange condition Pitt found it. Sir Pitt was always buying and mortgaging; he had twenty men of business, and quarrels with each; quarrels with all his tenants, and lawsuits with them; lawsuits with the lawyers; lawsuits with the Mining and Dock Companies in which he was proprietor; and with every person with whom he had business. To unravel these difficulties and to set the estate clear was a task worthy of the orderly and persevering diplomatist of Pumpernickel, and he set himself to work with prodigious assiduity. His whole family, of course, was transported to Queen's Crawley, whither Lady Southdown, of course, came too; and she set about converting the parish under the Rector's nose, and brought down her irregular clergy to the dismay of the angry Mrs Bute. Sir Pitt had concluded no bargain for the sale of the living of Queen's Crawley; when it should drop, her Ladyship proposed to take the patronage into her own hands and present a young protege to the Rectory, on which subject the diplomatic Pitt said nothing. Mrs. Bute's intentions with regard to Miss Betsy Horrocks were not carried into effect, and she paid no visit to Southampton Gaol. She and her father left the Hall when the latter took possession of the Crawley Arms in the village, of which he had got a lease from Sir Pitt. The ex-butler had obtained a small freehold there likewise, which gave him a vote for the borough. The Rector had another of these votes, and these and four others formed the representative body which returned the two members for Queen's Crawley. There was a show of courtesy kept up between the Rectory and the Hall ladies, between the younger ones at least, for Mrs. Bute and Lady Southdown never could meet without battles, and gradually ceased seeing each other. Her Ladyship kept her room when the ladies from the Rectory visited their cousins at the Hall. Perhaps Mr. Pitt was not very much displeased at these occasional absences of his mamma-in-law. He believed the Binkie family to be the greatest and wisest and most interesting in the world, and her Ladyship and his aunt had long held ascendency over him; but sometimes he felt that she commanded him too much. To be considered young was complimentary, doubtless, but at six-and-forty to be treated as a boy was sometimes mortifying. Lady Jane yielded up everything, however, to her mother. She was only fond of her children in private, and it was lucky for her that Lady Southdown's multifarious business, her conferences with ministers, and her correspondence with all the missionaries of Africa, Asia, and Australasia, &c., occupied the venerable Countess a great deal, so that she had but little time to devote to her granddaughter, the little Matilda, and her grandson, Master Pitt Crawley. The latter was a feeble child, and it was only by prodigious quantities of calomel that Lady Southdown was able to keep him in life at all. As for Sir Pitt he retired into those very apartments where Lady Crawley had been previously extinguished, and here was tended by Miss Hester, the girl upon her promotion, with constant care and assiduity. What love, what fidelity, what constancy is there equal to that of a nurse with good wages? They smooth pillows; and make arrowroot; they get up at nights; they bear complaints and querulousness; they see the sun shining out of doors and don't want to go abroad; they sleep on arm-chairs and eat their meals in solitude; they pass long long evenings doing nothing, watching the embers, and the patient's drink simmering in the jug; they read the weekly paper the whole week through; and Law's Serious Call or the Whole Duty of Man suffices them for literature for the year--and we quarrel with them because, when their relations come to see them once a week, a little gin is smuggled in in their linen basket. Ladies, what man's love is there that would stand a year's nursing of the object of his affection? Whereas a nurse will stand by you for ten pounds a quarter, and we think her too highly paid. At least Mr. Crawley grumbled a good deal about paying half as much to Miss Hester for her constant attendance upon the Baronet his father. Of sunshiny days this old gentleman was taken out in a chair on the terrace--the very chair which Miss Crawley had had at Brighton, and which had been transported thence with a number of Lady Southdown's effects to Queen's Crawley. Lady Jane always walked by the old man, and was an evident favourite with him. He used to nod many times to her and smile when she came in, and utter inarticulate deprecatory moans when she was going away. When the door shut upon her he would cry and sob--whereupon Hester's face and manner, which was always exceedingly bland and gentle while her lady was present, would change at once, and she would make faces at him and clench her fist and scream out "Hold your tongue, you stoopid old fool," and twirl away his chair from the fire which he loved to look at--at which he would cry more. For this was all that was left after more than seventy years of cunning, and struggling, and drinking, and scheming, and sin and selfishness--a whimpering old idiot put in and out of bed and cleaned and fed like a baby. At last a day came when the nurse's occupation was over. Early one morning, as Pitt Crawley was at his steward's and bailiff's books in the study, a knock came to the door, and Hester presented herself, dropping a curtsey, and said, "If you please, Sir Pitt, Sir Pitt died this morning, Sir Pitt. I was a-making of his toast, Sir Pitt, for his gruel, Sir Pitt, which he took every morning regular at six, Sir Pitt, and--I thought I heard a moan-like, Sir Pitt--and--and--and--" She dropped another curtsey. What was it that made Pitt's pale face flush quite red? Was it because he was Sir Pitt at last, with a seat in Parliament, and perhaps future honours in prospect? "I'll clear the estate now with the ready money," he thought and rapidly calculated its incumbrances and the improvements which he would make. He would not use his aunt's money previously lest Sir Pitt should recover and his outlay be in vain. All the blinds were pulled down at the Hall and Rectory: the church bell was tolled, and the chancel hung in black; and Bute Crawley didn't go to a coursing meeting, but went and dined quietly at Fuddleston, where they talked about his deceased brother and young Sir Pitt over their port. Miss Betsy, who was by this time married to a saddler at Mudbury, cried a good deal. The family surgeon rode over and paid his respectful compliments, and inquiries for the health of their ladyships. The death was talked about at Mudbury and at the Crawley Arms, the landlord whereof had become reconciled with the Rector of late, who was occasionally known to step into the parlour and taste Mr. Horrocks' mild beer. "Shall I write to your brother--or will you?" asked Lady Jane of her husband, Sir Pitt. "I will write, of course," Sir Pitt said, "and invite him to the funeral: it will be but becoming." "And--and--Mrs. Rawdon," said Lady Jane timidly. "Jane!" said Lady Southdown, "how can you think of such a thing?" "Mrs. Rawdon must of course be asked," said Sir Pitt, resolutely. "Not whilst I am in the house!" said Lady Southdown. "Your Ladyship will be pleased to recollect that I am the head of this family," Sir Pitt replied. "If you please, Lady Jane, you will write a letter to Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, requesting her presence upon this melancholy occasion." "Jane, I forbid you to put pen to paper!" cried the Countess. "I believe I am the head of this family," Sir Pitt repeated; "and however much I may regret any circumstance which may lead to your Ladyship quitting this house, must, if you please, continue to govern it as I see fit." Lady Southdown rose up as magnificent as Mrs. Siddons in Lady Macbeth and ordered that horses might be put to her carriage. If her son and daughter turned her out of their house, she would hide her sorrows somewhere in loneliness and pray for their conversion to better thoughts. "We don't turn you out of our house, Mamma," said the timid Lady Jane imploringly. "You invite such company to it as no Christian lady should meet, and I will have my horses to-morrow morning." "Have the goodness to write, Jane, under my dictation," said Sir Pitt, rising and throwing himself into an attitude of command, like the portrait of a Gentleman in the Exhibition, "and begin. 'Queen's Crawley, September 14, 1822.--My dear brother--'" Hearing these decisive and terrible words, Lady Macbeth, who had been waiting for a sign of weakness or vacillation on the part of her son-in-law, rose and, with a scared look, left the library. Lady Jane looked up to her husband as if she would fain follow and soothe her mamma, but Pitt forbade his wife to move. "She won't go away," he said. "She has let her house at Brighton and has spent her last half-year's dividends. A Countess living at an inn is a ruined woman. I have been waiting long for an opportunity--to take this--this decisive step, my love; for, as you must perceive, it is impossible that there should be two chiefs in a family: and now, if you please, we will resume the dictation. 'My dear brother, the melancholy intelligence which it is my duty to convey to my family must have been long anticipated by,'" &c. In a word, Pitt having come to his kingdom, and having by good luck, or desert rather, as he considered, assumed almost all the fortune which his other relatives had expected, was determined to treat his family kindly and respectably and make a house of Queen's Crawley once more. It pleased him to think that he should be its chief. He proposed to use the vast influence that his commanding talents and position must speedily acquire for him in the county to get his brother placed and his cousins decently provided for, and perhaps had a little sting of repentance as he thought that he was the proprietor of all that they had hoped for. In the course of three or four days' reign his bearing was changed and his plans quite fixed: he determined to rule justly and honestly, to depose Lady Southdown, and to be on the friendliest possible terms with all the relations of his blood. So he dictated a letter to his brother Rawdon--a solemn and elaborate letter, containing the profoundest observations, couched in the longest words, and filling with wonder the simple little secretary, who wrote under her husband's order. "What an orator this will be," thought she, "when he enters the House of Commons" (on which point, and on the tyranny of Lady Southdown, Pitt had sometimes dropped hints to his wife in bed); "how wise and good, and what a genius my husband is! I fancied him a little cold; but how good, and what a genius!" The fact is, Pitt Crawley had got every word of the letter by heart and had studied it, with diplomatic secrecy, deeply and perfectly, long before he thought fit to communicate it to his astonished wife. This letter, with a huge black border and seal, was accordingly despatched by Sir Pitt Crawley to his brother the Colonel, in London. Rawdon Crawley was but half-pleased at the receipt of it. "What's the use of going down to that stupid place?" thought he. "I can't stand being alone with Pitt after dinner, and horses there and back will cost us twenty pound." He carried the letter, as he did all difficulties, to Becky, upstairs in her bedroom--with her chocolate, which he always made and took to her of a morning. He put the tray with the breakfast and the letter on the dressing- table, before which Becky sat combing her yellow hair. She took up the black-edged missive, and having read it, she jumped up from the chair, crying "Hurray!" and waving the note round her head. "Hurray?" said Rawdon, wondering at the little figure capering about in a streaming flannel dressing-gown, with tawny locks dishevelled. "He's not left us anything, Becky. I had my share when I came of age." "You'll never be of age, you silly old man," Becky replied. "Run out now to Madam Brunoy's, for I must have some mourning: and get a crape on your hat, and a black waistcoat--I don't think you've got one; order it to be brought home to-morrow, so that we may be able to start on Thursday." "You don't mean to go?" Rawdon interposed. "Of course I mean to go. I mean that Lady Jane shall present me at Court next year. I mean that your brother shall give you a seat in Parliament, you stupid old creature. I mean that Lord Steyne shall have your vote and his, my dear, old silly man; and that you shall be an Irish Secretary, or a West Indian Governor: or a Treasurer, or a Consul, or some such thing." "Posting will cost a dooce of a lot of money," grumbled Rawdon. "We might take Southdown's carriage, which ought to be present at the funeral, as he is a relation of the family: but, no--I intend that we shall go by the coach. They'll like it better. It seems more humble--" "Rawdy goes, of course?" the Colonel asked. "No such thing; why pay an extra place? He's too big to travel bodkin between you and me. Let him stay here in the nursery, and Briggs can make him a black frock. Go you, and do as I bid you. And you had best tell Sparks, your man, that old Sir Pitt is dead and that you will come in for something considerable when the affairs are arranged. He'll tell this to Raggles, who has been pressing for money, and it will console poor Raggles." And so Becky began sipping her chocolate. When the faithful Lord Steyne arrived in the evening, he found Becky and her companion, who was no other than our friend Briggs, busy cutting, ripping, snipping, and tearing all sorts of black stuffs available for the melancholy occasion. "Miss Briggs and I are plunged in grief and despondency for the death of our Papa," Rebecca said. "Sir Pitt Crawley is dead, my lord. We have been tearing our hair all the morning, and now we are tearing up our old clothes." "Oh, Rebecca, how can you--" was all that Briggs could say as she turned up her eyes. "Oh, Rebecca, how can you--" echoed my Lord. "So that old scoundrel's dead, is he? He might have been a Peer if he had played his cards better. Mr. Pitt had very nearly made him; but he ratted always at the wrong time. What an old Silenus it was!" "I might have been Silenus's widow," said Rebecca. "Don't you remember, Miss Briggs, how you peeped in at the door and saw old Sir Pitt on his knees to me?" Miss Briggs, our old friend, blushed very much at this reminiscence, and was glad when Lord Steyne ordered her to go downstairs and make him a cup of tea. Briggs was the house-dog whom Rebecca had provided as guardian of her innocence and reputation. Miss Crawley had left her a little annuity. She would have been content to remain in the Crawley family with Lady Jane, who was good to her and to everybody; but Lady Southdown dismissed poor Briggs as quickly as decency permitted; and Mr. Pitt (who thought himself much injured by the uncalled-for generosity of his deceased relative towards a lady who had only been Miss Crawley's faithful retainer a score of years) made no objection to that exercise of the dowager's authority. Bowls and Firkin likewise received their legacies and their dismissals, and married and set up a lodging-house, according to the custom of their kind. Briggs tried to live with her relations in the country, but found that attempt was vain after the better society to which she had been accustomed. Briggs's friends, small tradesmen, in a country town, quarrelled over Miss Briggs's forty pounds a year as eagerly and more openly than Miss Crawley's kinsfolk had for that lady's inheritance. Briggs's brother, a radical hatter and grocer, called his sister a purse-proud aristocrat, because she would not advance a part of her capital to stock his shop; and she would have done so most likely, but that their sister, a dissenting shoemaker's lady, at variance with the hatter and grocer, who went to another chapel, showed how their brother was on the verge of bankruptcy, and took possession of Briggs for a while. The dissenting shoemaker wanted Miss Briggs to send his son to college and make a gentleman of him. Between them the two families got a great portion of her private savings out of her, and finally she fled to London followed by the anathemas of both, and determined to seek for servitude again as infinitely less onerous than liberty. And advertising in the papers that a "Gentlewoman of agreeable manners, and accustomed to the best society, was anxious to," &c., she took up her residence with Mr. Bowls in Half Moon Street, and waited the result of the advertisement. So it was that she fell in with Rebecca. Mrs. Rawdon's dashing little carriage and ponies was whirling down the street one day, just as Miss Briggs, fatigued, had reached Mr. Bowls's door, after a weary walk to the Times Office in the City to insert her advertisement for the sixth time. Rebecca was driving, and at once recognized the gentlewoman with agreeable manners, and being a perfectly good-humoured woman, as we have seen, and having a regard for Briggs, she pulled up the ponies at the doorsteps, gave the reins to the groom, and jumping out, had hold of both Briggs's hands, before she of the agreeable manners had recovered from the shock of seeing an old friend. Briggs cried, and Becky laughed a great deal and kissed the gentlewoman as soon as they got into the passage; and thence into Mrs. Bowls's front parlour, with the red moreen curtains, and the round looking-glass, with the chained eagle above, gazing upon the back of the ticket in the window which announced "Apartments to Let." Briggs told all her history amidst those perfectly uncalled-for sobs and ejaculations of wonder with which women of her soft nature salute an old acquaintance, or regard a rencontre in the street; for though people meet other people every day, yet some there are who insist upon discovering miracles; and women, even though they have disliked each other, begin to cry when they meet, deploring and remembering the time when they last quarrelled. So, in a word, Briggs told all her history, and Becky gave a narrative of her own life, with her usual artlessness and candour. Mrs. Bowls, late Firkin, came and listened grimly in the passage to the hysterical sniffling and giggling which went on in the front parlour. Becky had never been a favourite of hers. Since the establishment of the married couple in London they had frequented their former friends of the house of Raggles, and did not like the latter's account of the Colonel's menage. "I wouldn't trust him, Ragg, my boy," Bowls remarked; and his wife, when Mrs. Rawdon issued from the parlour, only saluted the lady with a very sour curtsey; and her fingers were like so many sausages, cold and lifeless, when she held them out in deference to Mrs. Rawdon, who persisted in shaking hands with the retired lady's maid. She whirled away into Piccadilly, nodding with the sweetest of smiles towards Miss Briggs, who hung nodding at the window close under the advertisement-card, and at the next moment was in the park with a half-dozen of dandies cantering after her carriage. When she found how her friend was situated, and how having a snug legacy from Miss Crawley, salary was no object to our gentlewoman, Becky instantly formed some benevolent little domestic plans concerning her. This was just such a companion as would suit her establishment, and she invited Briggs to come to dinner with her that very evening, when she should see Becky's dear little darling Rawdon. Mrs. Bowls cautioned her lodger against venturing into the lion's den, "wherein you will rue it, Miss B., mark my words, and as sure as my name is Bowls." And Briggs promised to be very cautious. The upshot of which caution was that she went to live with Mrs. Rawdon the next week, and had lent Rawdon Crawley six hundred pounds upon annuity before six months were over. 第 四 十 章    蓓基正式进了家门     克劳莱家的嗣子在出事以后不久便回家了,从此之后,他就成了女王的克劳莱的一家之主.上了年纪的从男爵虽然又活了好几个月,可是言语不清,脑子也糊涂了,庄地上一切事务,便由大儿子接手管理.毕脱发现情形很古怪.毕脱爵士老是把产业买进来典出去;他有二十个办事人,然而和他们个个拌过嘴.他又和佃户们吵架打官司;又和律师打官司;他是开矿公司造船公司的股东,于是和这些公司也打官司.总之,凡是和他打过交道的人都和他有法律纠纷.这些困难和庄地上的种种纠葛,的确需要像本浦聂格尔的外交官那样有条有理,百折不回的人来解决.他接手之后,便孜孜不倦的办起事来.他全家搬到女王的克劳莱大厦住下,莎吴塞唐伯爵夫人当然也跟着来了.她开始在教区里进行工作,就在牧师眼皮底下传她自己的教,还把她那些未经批准的牧师们也带到乡里来,不由得叫别德太太又惊又气.女王的克劳莱教区的牧师职位,毕脱爵士还没有和人订约出卖,伯爵夫人准备等到别德死后位子一空出来就自己接手,把她手下一个年轻小伙子安插进去.毕脱的外交手腕很高明,对于这事不置可否.     别德太太并没有实行她对蓓翠.霍洛克斯小姐的威吓,因此那位姑娘也没有到莎乌撒泼顿去坐监牢.他们父女离开大厦之后,父亲就接办了村子里的克劳莱纹章酒店,因为毕脱爵士以前曾经和他订过租约.这个佣人头儿又在本地买下一小块地,因此得了选举权.除他之外牧师也有一票,再搭上另外的四票,算是本区的主要代表,女王的克劳莱在国会一共占两席,全靠他们选举.     牧师住宅里和大房子里的女眷们表面上不错礼节,至少在年轻人之间还维持面子,只有别德太太和莎吴塞唐夫人见面就勾心斗角的闹,渐渐不来往了.每逢牧师家里的太太姑娘们到大房子里来作客,她夫人就躲在房里不露面.毕脱偶然能够不跟丈母娘见面,倒也并不以为憾事.他相信平葛一家是全世界最聪明,最有意思,最了不起的旧世家,向来肯受他姨妈那位伯爵夫人的辖治,可是有时也嫌她太专制.给人家当作年轻小伙子自然是差强人意的事,不过自己究竟是四十六岁的人了,还给当孩子一样对待,岂不伤了体面?吉恩夫人什么都让母亲作主.她只能在私底下疼疼孩子,还亏得莎吴塞唐夫人事情忙,又要跟牧师们开会,又要和分散在非洲.亚洲.澳洲的传教士通信,得费掉好多时间,因此很少余暇照料外孙女玛蒂尔达和外孙子毕脱.克劳莱小少爷.毕脱小少爷身体不好,莎吴塞唐夫人不知给他吃了多少服轻粉,才算保住了他的小命儿.     毕脱爵士眼前动用的屋子,就是从前克劳莱太太死在里面的那几间;指望高升的海丝德姑娘勤快专心的伺候着他.谁能够像重金聘来的看护那么赤心忠胆?她们替病人拍枕头,调藕粉,半夜起来服侍,忍受病人咕唧抱怨,看着门外的好太阳也不想出去玩.她们甘心把椅子当床,一日三餐一个人独吃,到黄昏守着壁炉里的火炭儿,给病人烧汤煮水.她们整整一星期翻来覆去看一张周刊,一年来所能读到的书籍只有像"人之天职"和"法律......终身的事业"这一类的作品.她们的亲戚朋友一星期来看她一回,有的时候在衣服篮子里夹带了一小瓶杜松子酒回去,我们发现了还要责骂她们.太太小姐们,男人里面有谁能够整整一年伺候爱人而不变初衷呢?一个看护忠忠心心伺候病人,一季不过拿十镑钱薪水,我们还觉得出的价钱太高.海丝德小姐专心服侍克劳莱先生的父亲从男爵,每季工钱只有五镑,克劳莱先生还唠叨个不完呢.     有太阳的日子,海丝德服侍老头儿坐在轮椅里,把他推到平台上去;这轮椅原是克劳莱小姐在布拉依顿用的,这一回和莎吴塞唐夫人的家具什物一起运到女王的克劳莱来了.吉恩夫人时常跟着轮椅散步.谁也看得出来老头儿非常喜欢她,见她进来就笑嘻嘻的连连点头,见她出去又哼哼唧唧的表示不愿意,到门一关上,更忍不住呜呜的哭起来.海丝德在太太面前十分恭顺温和,一转背就换一副嘴脸.她握着拳头对老头儿做鬼脸,嚷道:"不准闹,你这老糊涂蛋!"她明知他爱看炉里的火,却偏偏把轮椅从火炉旁边推开,逗得那老头儿哭得格外伤心.他七十多年来使心用计和人竞争;又爱喝酒,胡闹;不管做什么事,只为自身打算,到末了变成了一个哼哼唧唧的白痴,连穿衣.吃饭.睡觉.洗刷,都像孩子似的必须仰仗别人.     终究有一天看护的责任完了.一天清晨,毕脱.克劳莱正在书房里查看总管们的账目,听见有人轻轻敲门,接着就见海丝德走进来屈膝行了一个礼,说:"您请听,毕脱爵士,毕脱爵士今儿早上死了,毕脱爵士.我正在替他烤面包,毕脱爵士,预备给他过稀饭的,毕脱爵士,他每天早上六点钟吃早饭,毕脱爵士,后来......我仿佛听得他哼哼,毕脱爵士,后来......后来......后来......"她又屈膝行了一礼.     毕脱的苍白脸皮为什么忽然变红了?恐怕是因为他终究做了毕脱爵士,又是国会议员,将来还能享受尊荣显贵的缘故.他想道:"现在我可以用现钱把庄地上的债务都了结清楚."一面很快的计算了一下,看田地上究竟有多少负担,有多少地方需要改善.起先他不敢动用姑妈的遗产,因为怕毕脱爵士万一复原,这些花费就等于白填了馅了.     大房子里和牧师住宅所有的百叶窗都关起来;教堂里打起丧钟来;圣坛上铺了黑布;别德.克劳莱没有参加赛马会,只在弗特尔斯顿家里静静地吃了一餐饭,饭后一面喝葡萄酒,一面谈论死去的哥哥和新接位的毕脱爵士.蓓翠姑娘那时已经嫁了一个开马具店的,得了消息哭得很伤心.家里的医生骑着马过来向新主人致敬意,给太太们问好.在墨特白莱和克劳莱纹章酒店里大家也都谈起这件事.近来酒店老板和牧师恢复了交情,牧师有时也到霍洛克斯店里去尝他的淡啤酒.     吉恩夫人问她丈夫毕脱爵士道:"你弟弟那儿,还是你写信还是我写?"     毕脱爵士道:"当然我写,我想请他参加丧礼,这原是该当的."     吉恩夫人怯生生的问道:"还有......还有......罗登太太呢?"     莎吴塞唐夫人接口道:"吉恩!怎么给你想出这样的主意来的?"     毕脱爵士很斩截的答道:"罗登太太当然也得请来."     莎吴塞唐夫人道:"我在这屋里一天,这事就不能行!"     毕脱爵士答道:"您老人家请别忘了,我是一家之主.吉恩夫人,请你写信给罗登.克劳莱太太,请她参加丧礼."     伯爵夫人嚷道:"吉恩,我不准你写!"     毕脱爵士又说道:"我是家里的主人.如果您对我不满,必须离开舍间,我很抱歉.至于家务的处置调度,那是非依照我的主见不可的."     莎吴塞唐夫人挺着身子站起来,那风度竟像息登思太太扮演麦克白夫人(麦克白夫人是莎士比亚悲剧《麦克白》里的女主角.息登思太太(Ｍｒｓ．Ｓ－ｉｄｄｏｎｓ,１７５５—１８３１)是专演莎士比亚戏剧的名演员.)一样庄严.她吩咐下人套车;她说既然女儿女婿赶她出去,她只好含悲忍气一个人出去过日子,从此不问世事,专门为他们祈祷,希望他们改过.     胆小的吉恩夫人哀求道:"妈妈,我们并没有赶你出去呀."     "你们请来的客人是上流社会的基督教徒不应该见的,明儿早上叫他们把马准备着,我要走了."     毕脱爵士站起身来,摆出一副威武的姿势,看上去很像画展中那幅绅士的肖像,口里说:"吉恩,我念你写,请你动手吧.先写地名日期'女王的克劳莱,一八二二年九月十四日.亲爱的弟弟......,"     麦克白夫人正在等待女婿软化动摇,听得他的口气这么坚决,这么严厉,只是站起来,神色仓皇的走出书房去了.吉恩夫人抬头看看丈夫,仿佛要想跟出去安慰她母亲,可是毕脱不准妻子出去.     他说:"她才不走呢.布拉依顿的房子已经租掉了,上半年的股息也花完了,堂堂伯爵夫人住在小旅馆里岂不要丢尽体统吗?亲爱的,我已经等待了好久,希望有这么一个机会让我采取这......这决定性的步骤.你当然明白一家不容二主这个道理.现在请你执笔,我们继续写下去.'亲爱的弟弟:......我的责任是向家下各人报丧,我想你们早已料到.......,"     总之一句,毕脱如今当了家了;靠着他运气好......或者照他自己的看法,靠着他功劳大,家里别人想了好久的财产几乎全落在他一个人手里.他决定对家里的人厚道些,处处不失体统,把女王的克劳莱一家重新振兴起来.他想着自己是一家之主,心里很得意.他能力高,地位高,不出多少时候准能有极大的权势,因此打算将来给弟弟谋个位子,替堂弟妹们找条出路.大约他想到自己独占了这些人眼巴巴等待着的财产,心里也有些过不去.他当了三四天家之后,体态变了,主意也定了,认为治家必须公平正直,不能听凭莎吴塞唐夫人的主张,自己的至亲骨肉,倒是要竭力拉拢的.     因此他写了一封信给他弟弟罗登;这封信词意十分严肃,写的时候着实费了一番推敲,里面的字眼和见解深奥的了不得.吉恩夫人究竟心地简单,她一面奉丈夫的命令把他的话一句句笔录下来,一面满心敬服他的才具.她暗想:"他进了下议院之后,一定是个了不起的演说家,"(关于他怎么打算进国会,当议员,还有莎吴塞唐夫人怎么专横,毕脱也曾经在枕上和妻子谈过几句;)"我丈夫真是个天才,又聪明,又忠厚!我一向以为他有些冷冰冰的,如今看来他为人真好,又有天才."     事实是这样的,这封信的稿子,毕脱.克劳莱早已背得烂熟了.他是有手段的人,暗底下细细斟酌,把词句修改得尽善尽美,事先不让太太知道,怪不得她惊奇.     毕脱.克劳莱爵士将这封信寄到伦敦他弟弟罗登上校家里;用的信封上印着很宽的黑边,火漆也是黑的.罗登.克劳莱得了这信,淡淡的不怎么起劲.他想:"何必跑到那闷死人的地方去呢?吃过饭跟毕脱两个面面相对,我可受不了.雇了车马来回两趟总得花二十镑."     他每逢有什么为难的事,便去找蓓基,所以把这封信跟她的巧克力茶一起托到楼上卧房里交给她,......她每天喝的早茶总是他亲手做好了送上去的.     蓓基坐在梳妆台前面梳她的黄头发,罗登就把盘子搁在梳妆台上.她拿起黑边信封,拆开读了信,登时从椅子上跳起来叫道:"好哇!"喊着,把信纸举起来乱摇.     罗登看着妻子东蹦西跳,身上一件法兰绒的晨衣早已飞舞起来,一头黄头发摇得乱蓬蓬的,心里老大纳闷,说道:"有什么好的?蓓基,他又没有留什么东西给我们.我的一份产业早在我成年的时候给了我了.")     蓓基答道:"你这糊涂东西,我看你是再也长不大的了.快到勃鲁诺哀太太那儿去给我定几套黑衣服.你自己也买一件黑背心,帽子上也得围一条黑带子,......我想家里没有黑背心吧?叫她赶着把衣服明天就送来,咱们星期四就能动身了."     罗登插嘴道:"难道说你预备回去吗?"     "当然预备回去.我要吉恩夫人明年带我进宫.我要你哥哥把你安插在国会里,你这呆子!我要你和你哥哥都投票选举斯丹恩勋爵,亲爱的傻瓜!这样你就能当爱尔兰总督,或是西印度群岛的事务大臣,或是司库官,或是领事,这一类的事情."     罗登埋怨道:"坐邮车又得花好多钱."     "咱们可以用莎吴塞唐的车子,他是家里的亲戚,他的马车应该一起去送丧才对.可是这样也不妥当,坐邮车好,显得咱们没有架子,他们瞧着准觉得喜欢."     上校问道:"罗迪当然也去��?"     "没有的事!何必多买一张票呢?他现在长大了,不能挤在咱们两个中间不买票.让他呆在家里,叫布立葛丝给他做件黑衣服就成了.出去照我的话把事情办了.还有,最好跟你的佣人斯巴克斯提一声,就说毕脱老爵士死了,等办过丧事,你还有好些遗产可拿呢.回头他准会把消息告诉拉哥尔斯.可怜的拉哥尔斯逼着要钱,听了这话心里可以有些安慰."说完,蓓基便喝起茶来.     那天黄昏,忠心的斯丹恩勋爵来了,看见蓓基和她的女伴(她不是别人,正是我们的朋友布立葛丝)忙着把家里所有的黑衣服黑料子铰的铰,撕的撕,拆的拆,准备做孝服.     利蓓加说:"布立葛丝小姐和我因为爸爸死了,正在这里伤心悲痛.勋爵,毕脱.克劳莱爵士死了.今天一早上我们难受得只会揪头发,现在又在撕旧衣服."     布立葛丝翻起眼睛来望着天,说不出话来,只好说:"利蓓加,你怎么说出这种话来了?"     勋爵应声道:"利蓓加,你怎么说出这种话来?哦,原来老混蛋死了.如果他手段高明一点,本来还能加爵呢.毕脱先生倒出了不少力,事情只差一点儿就办妥了,可惜那老的总是挑最不合适的时候变节脱党.这老头儿真是个沙里纳斯(希腊酒神巴克斯的义父兼随从,极爱喝酒享乐.)!"     利蓓加道:"我差点儿做了沙里纳斯的未亡人哩.布立葛丝小姐,你还记得吗?你在钥匙孔里偷看,看见毕脱老爵士跪着向我求婚."我们的老朋友布立葛丝小姐想起旧事,羞得面红耳赤,幸而斯丹恩勋爵使唤她下楼倒茶,她便急忙走了.     布立葛丝就是利蓓加用来保全她贞操和名誉的看家狗.克劳莱小姐留给她一小笔年金.她本来很愿意留在家里给吉恩夫人做伴,因为吉恩夫人对她很好,对其余别的人也好,无奈莎吴塞唐老太太不要她,勉强留她住了几天,糊过面子,就急急的打发她出门.毕脱先生觉得她不过忠忠心心伺候了去世的姑妈二十年,而姑妈竟对她那么过分的宽厚,带累自己大受损失,因此心上不满,老夫人主张发放,他也不反对.鲍尔斯和孚金也都得着遗产,给家里辞退了.他们结了婚,按照他们同行中的惯例,开了一家寄宿舍.     布立葛丝本来打算和她乡下的亲戚同住,可是她一向看见的都是上流人物,和本家人反而过不惯.布立葛丝家里的人生是乡镇上做小买卖的;他们为布立葛丝小姐的一年四十镑钱争闹起来,竟和克劳莱小姐的亲友争夺遗产的时候一样激烈,而且比他们更不顾面子.布立葛丝的兄弟是个激进派,他开着个帽子铺,兼卖杂货,要求姊姊出资帮他扩充营业;布立葛丝不愿意,弟弟便骂她是个恃富而骄的贵族.她本来倒也愿意投资,可是她还有个妹妹,嫁给一个不奉国教的鞋匠,跟那卖杂货和帽子的弟兄不合(原来那兄弟上的教堂又另是一派),说他眼前就要破产,这样就霸占了布立葛丝,把她接去住了一阵.不奉国教的鞋匠要布立葛丝小姐栽培他儿子上大学,做绅士.这两家把她历年的私蓄搜括了一大半去,最后她只好仍旧逃回伦敦,乡下两家都痛骂她.她觉得为人服役还比自由身子方便得多,决定重新找事,在报上登了广告说:"今有态度可亲的高尚女士,一向出入上流社会"等等.她住在半月街鲍尔斯的寄宿舍里,等人上门找她.     她就是这样碰见利蓓加的.一天,布立葛丝步行到《泰晤士报》去登第六次广告,从市中心回来,身子已经很疲倦了.她刚刚走近鲍尔斯宿舍的门口,罗登太太的时式小马车,由几匹小马拉着,飞快的在这条街上走过.利蓓加自己在赶车子,一眼认出了态度可亲的高尚女士.我们都知道她性情最好,向来看得起布立葛丝.当下她立刻在门口止了马,把缰绳交给车夫,从车子上跳下来.那态度可亲的布立葛丝突然看见了老朋友,还没有来得及定下神来,两只手已经给利蓓加拉住了.     布立葛丝不住的哭,利蓓加不住的笑.她们一走进过道,利蓓加便吻着那高尚的女士,然后和她一起走到鲍尔斯太太的前客厅里去.客厅里挂着红色的厚窗帘,嵌着圆镜子,镜子上面站着一只假老鹰,用一条链子锁着,窗口搁一张"空屋出赁"的召租纸牌子,那老鹰正瞧着那纸牌子的后面出神.     布立葛丝一面诉说自己的境况,一面抽抽噎噎的哭泣,唉呀唷的感叹.这眼泪和叹气原来是不必要的,不过像她这样软心肠的女人,和老朋友见了面,或是在路上意外遇见熟人,都要来这么一套.和朋友见面是最平常的事,有些人却喜欢小题大做.尤其是女人,哪怕本来是你嫌我我怨你的,到重逢的时候也会感动得掉眼泪,双方面回想到最后一次拌嘴的情形,只觉得愧悔.总而言之,布立葛丝先讲她的经历,跟着,蓓基也描写了自己的身世,那份儿直爽诚恳是她的特色.     鲍尔斯太太(也就是孚金)特地走到过道里来偷听客厅里的动静,只听得里面哭一阵笑一阵,不由得板下脸来.她向来不喜欢蓓基.自从她和丈夫在伦敦住下来以后,常常去看望他们的老朋友拉哥尔斯一家.他们听了拉哥尔斯讲起上校一家过日子的情形,表示很怀疑.鲍尔斯说:"拉哥,我的孩子,如果我处你的地位,我就不相信他."鲍尔斯的女人看见罗登太太从客厅出来,冷冷的行了个礼.罗登太太一见这位退休的女佣人,一定要和她拉手;鲍尔斯太太伸出来的手指头又冷又僵,摸上去就像五条小香肠.落后蓓基上了车,风驰电掣的上毕加迪莱去了,临走向布立葛丝点着头,眯着眼,怪迷人的笑了一笑.布立葛丝也伏在窗口召租纸板底下,对她点头还礼.一眨眼间,蓓基已经到了公园,六七个花花公子立刻骑马从车子后面跟上来.     蓓基探问了她朋友的近况,知道克劳莱小姐留给我们这位高尚的女士一份遗产,尽够她舒服度日,因此她倒并不计较薪水大小.蓓基一听这话,立刻给她作了好些居家过日子的打算,对她是极有好处的.蓓基自己需要的正是这样的女伴,所以请布立葛丝当晚就到她家里去吃晚饭,说是要她见见她的小心肝小宝贝罗登.     鲍尔斯太太警告她的房客,叫她切不可轻易住到老虎窝里去."布小姐,听我的话,你去了以后准要后悔的,要不然我就不姓鲍尔斯!"布立葛丝答应一定小心谨慎.小心谨慎的结果是什么呢?第二个星期她就搬到罗登太太家里去住,不出六个月就把年金押了六百镑借给罗登.克劳莱.

CHAPTER XLI In Which Becky Revisits the Halls of Her Ancestors So the mourning being ready, and Sir Pitt Crawley warned of their arrival, Colonel Crawley and his wife took a couple of places in the same old High-flyer coach by which Rebecca had travelled in the defunct Baronet's company, on her first journey into the world some nine years before. How well she remembered the Inn Yard, and the ostler to whom she refused money, and the insinuating Cambridge lad who wrapped her in his coat on the journey! Rawdon took his place outside, and would have liked to drive, but his grief forbade him. He sat by the coachman and talked about horses and the road the whole way; and who kept the inns, and who horsed the coach by which he had travelled so many a time, when he and Pitt were boys going to Eton. At Mudbury a carriage and a pair of horses received them, with a coachman in black. "It's the old drag, Rawdon," Rebecca said as they got in. "The worms have eaten the cloth a good deal-- there's the stain which Sir Pitt--ha! I see Dawson the Ironmonger has his shutters up--which Sir Pitt made such a noise about. It was a bottle of cherry brandy he broke which we went to fetch for your aunt from Southampton. How time flies, to be sure! That can't be Polly Talboys, that bouncing girl standing by her mother at the cottage there. I remember her a mangy little urchin picking weeds in the garden." "Fine gal," said Rawdon, returning the salute which the cottage gave him, by two fingers applied to his crape hatband. Becky bowed and saluted, and recognized people here and there graciously. These recognitions were inexpressibly pleasant to her. It seemed as if she was not an imposter any more, and was coming to the home of her ancestors. Rawdon was rather abashed and cast down, on the other hand. What recollections of boyhood and innocence might have been flitting across his brain? What pangs of dim remorse and doubt and shame? "Your sisters must be young women now," Rebecca said, thinking of those girls for the first time perhaps since she had left them. "Don't know, I'm shaw," replied the Colonel. "Hullo! here's old Mother Lock. How-dy-do, Mrs. Lock? Remember me, don't you? Master Rawdon, hey? Dammy how those old women last; she was a hundred when I was a boy." They were going through the lodge-gates kept by old Mrs. Lock, whose hand Rebecca insisted upon shaking, as she flung open the creaking old iron gate, and the carriage passed between the two moss-grown pillars surmounted by the dove and serpent. "The governor has cut into the timber," Rawdon said, looking about, and then was silent--so was Becky. Both of them were rather agitated, and thinking of old times. He about Eton, and his mother, whom he remembered, a frigid demure woman, and a sister who died, of whom he had been passionately fond; and how he used to thrash Pitt; and about little Rawdy at home. And Rebecca thought about her own youth and the dark secrets of those early tainted days; and of her entrance into life by yonder gates; and of Miss Pinkerton, and Joe, and Amelia. The gravel walk and terrace had been scraped quite clean. A grand painted hatchment was already over the great entrance, and two very solemn and tall personages in black flung open each a leaf of the door as the carriage pulled up at the familiar steps. Rawdon turned red, and Becky somewhat pale, as they passed through the old hall, arm in arm. She pinched her husband's arm as they entered the oak parlour, where Sir Pitt and his wife were ready to receive them. Sir Pitt in black, Lady Jane in black, and my Lady Southdown with a large black head-piece of bugles and feathers, which waved on her Ladyship's head like an undertaker's tray. Sir Pitt had judged correctly, that she would not quit the premises. She contented herself by preserving a solemn and stony silence, when in company of Pitt and his rebellious wife, and by frightening the children in the nursery by the ghastly gloom of her demeanour. Only a very faint bending of the head-dress and plumes welcomed Rawdon and his wife, as those prodigals returned to their family. To say the truth, they were not affected very much one way or other by this coolness. Her Ladyship was a person only of secondary consideration in their minds just then--they were intent upon the reception which the reigning brother and sister would afford them. Pitt, with rather a heightened colour, went up and shook his brother by the hand, and saluted Rebecca with a hand-shake and a very low bow. But Lady Jane took both the hands of her sister-in-law and kissed her affectionately. The embrace somehow brought tears into the eyes of the little adventuress--which ornaments, as we know, she wore very seldom. The artless mark of kindness and confidence touched and pleased her; and Rawdon, encouraged by this demonstration on his sister's part, twirled up his mustachios and took leave to salute Lady Jane with a kiss, which caused her Ladyship to blush exceedingly. "Dev'lish nice little woman, Lady Jane," was his verdict, when he and his wife were together again. "Pitt's got fat, too, and is doing the thing handsomely." "He can afford it," said Rebecca and agreed in her husband's farther opinion "that the mother-in-law was a tremendous old Guy--and that the sisters were rather well-looking young women." They, too, had been summoned from school to attend the funeral ceremonies. It seemed Sir Pitt Crawley, for the dignity of the house and family, had thought right to have about the place as many persons in black as could possibly be assembled. All the men and maids of the house, the old women of the Alms House, whom the elder Sir Pitt had cheated out of a great portion of their due, the parish clerk's family, and the special retainers of both Hall and Rectory were habited in sable; added to these, the undertaker's men, at least a score, with crapes and hatbands, and who made goodly show when the great burying show took place--but these are mute personages in our drama; and having nothing to do or say, need occupy a very little space here. With regard to her sisters-in-law Rebecca did not attempt to forget her former position of Governess towards them, but recalled it frankly and kindly, and asked them about their studies with great gravity, and told them that she had thought of them many and many a day, and longed to know of their welfare. In fact you would have supposed that ever since she had left them she had not ceased to keep them uppermost in her thoughts and to take the tenderest interest in their welfare. So supposed Lady Crawley herself and her young sisters. "She's hardly changed since eight years," said Miss Rosalind to Miss Violet, as they were preparing for dinner. "Those red-haired women look wonderfully well," replied the other. "Hers is much darker than it was; I think she must dye it," Miss Rosalind added. "She is stouter, too, and altogether improved," continued Miss Rosalind, who was disposed to be very fat. "At least she gives herself no airs and remembers that she was our Governess once," Miss Violet said, intimating that it befitted all governesses to keep their proper place, and forgetting altogether that she was granddaughter not only of Sir Walpole Crawley, but of Mr. Dawson of Mudbury, and so had a coal-scuttle in her scutcheon. There are other very well-meaning people whom one meets every day in Vanity Fair who are surely equally oblivious. "It can't be true what the girls at the Rectory said, that her mother was an opera-dancer--" "A person can't help their birth," Rosalind replied with great liberality. "And I agree with our brother, that as she is in the family, of course we are bound to notice her. I am sure Aunt Bute need not talk; she wants to marry Kate to young Hooper, the wine- merchant, and absolutely asked him to come to the Rectory for orders." "I wonder whether Lady Southdown will go away, she looked very glum upon Mrs. Rawdon," the other said. "I wish she would. I won't read the Washerwoman of Finchley Common," vowed Violet; and so saying, and avoiding a passage at the end of which a certain coffin was placed with a couple of watchers, and lights perpetually burning in the closed room, these young women came down to the family dinner, for which the bell rang as usual. But before this, Lady Jane conducted Rebecca to the apartments prepared for her, which, with the rest of the house, had assumed a very much improved appearance of order and comfort during Pitt's regency, and here beholding that Mrs. Rawdon's modest little trunks had arrived, and were placed in the bedroom and dressing-room adjoining, helped her to take off her neat black bonnet and cloak, and asked her sister-in-law in what more she could be useful. "What I should like best," said Rebecca, "would be to go to the nursery and see your dear little children." On which the two ladies looked very kindly at each other and went to that apartment hand in hand. Becky admired little Matilda, who was not quite four years old, as the most charming little love in the world; and the boy, a little fellow of two years--pale, heavy-eyed, and large-headed--she pronounced to be a perfect prodigy in point of size, intelligence, and beauty. "I wish Mamma would not insist on giving him so much medicine," Lady Jane said with a sigh. "I often think we should all be better without it." And then Lady Jane and her new-found friend had one of those confidential medical conversations about the children, which all mothers, and most women, as I am given to understand, delight in. Fifty years ago, and when the present writer, being an interesting little boy, was ordered out of the room with the ladies after dinner, I remember quite well that their talk was chiefly about their ailments; and putting this question directly to two or three since, I have always got from them the acknowledgement that times are not changed. Let my fair readers remark for themselves this very evening when they quit the dessert-table and assemble to celebrate the drawing-room mysteries. Well--in half an hour Becky and Lady Jane were close and intimate friends--and in the course of the evening her Ladyship informed Sir Pitt that she thought her new sister-in-law was a kind, frank, unaffected, and affectionate young woman. And so having easily won the daughter's good-will, the indefatigable little woman bent herself to conciliate the august Lady Southdown. As soon as she found her Ladyship alone, Rebecca attacked her on the nursery question at once and said that her own little boy was saved, actually saved, by calomel, freely administered, when all the physicians in Paris had given the dear child up. And then she mentioned how often she had heard of Lady Southdown from that excellent man the Reverend Lawrence Grills, Minister of the chapel in May Fair, which she frequented; and how her views were very much changed by circumstances and misfortunes; and how she hoped that a past life spent in worldliness and error might not incapacitate her from more serious thought for the future. She described how in former days she had been indebted to Mr. Crawley for religious instruction, touched upon the Washerwoman of Finchley Common, which she had read with the greatest profit, and asked about Lady Emily, its gifted author, now Lady Emily Hornblower, at Cape Town, where her husband had strong hopes of becoming Bishop of Caffraria. But she crowned all, and confirmed herself in Lady Southdown's favour, by feeling very much agitated and unwell after the funeral and requesting her Ladyship's medical advice, which the Dowager not only gave, but, wrapped up in a bed-gown and looking more like Lady Macbeth than ever, came privately in the night to Becky's room with a parcel of favourite tracts, and a medicine of her own composition, which she insisted that Mrs. Rawdon should take. Becky first accepted the tracts and began to examine them with great interest, engaging the Dowager in a conversation concerning them and the welfare of her soul, by which means she hoped that her body might escape medication. But after the religious topics were exhausted, Lady Macbeth would not quit Becky's chamber until her cup of night-drink was emptied too; and poor Mrs. Rawdon was compelled actually to assume a look of gratitude, and to swallow the medicine under the unyielding old Dowager's nose, who left her victim finally with a benediction. It did not much comfort Mrs. Rawdon; her countenance was very queer when Rawdon came in and heard what had happened; and. his explosions of laughter were as loud as usual, when Becky, with a fun which she could not disguise, even though it was at her own expense, described the occurrence and how she had been victimized by Lady Southdown. Lord Steyne, and her son in London, had many a laugh over the story when Rawdon and his wife returned to their quarters in May Fair. Becky acted the whole scene for them. She put on a night-cap and gown. She preached a great sermon in the true serious manner; she lectured on the virtue of the medicine which she pretended to administer, with a gravity of imitation so perfect that you would have thought it was the Countess's own Roman nose through which she snuffled. "Give us Lady Southdown and the black dose," was a constant cry amongst the folks in Becky's little drawing-room in May Fair. And for the first time in her life the Dowager Countess of Southdown was made amusing. Sir Pitt remembered the testimonies of respect and veneration which Rebecca had paid personally to himself in early days, and was tolerably well disposed towards her. The marriage, ill-advised as it was, had improved Rawdon very much--that was clear from the Colonel's altered habits and demeanour--and had it not been a lucky union as regarded Pitt himself? The cunning diplomatist smiled inwardly as he owned that he owed his fortune to it, and acknowledged that he at least ought not to cry out against it. His satisfaction was not removed by Rebecca's own statements, behaviour, and conversation. She doubled the deference which before had charmed him, calling out his conversational powers in such a manner as quite to surprise Pitt himself, who, always inclined to respect his own talents, admired them the more when Rebecca pointed them out to him. With her sister-in-law, Rebecca was satisfactorily able to prove that it was Mrs. Bute Crawley who brought about the marriage which she afterwards so calumniated; that it was Mrs. Bute's avarice--who hoped to gain all Miss Crawley's fortune and deprive Rawdon of his aunt's favour--which caused and invented all the wicked reports against Rebecca. "She succeeded in making us poor," Rebecca said with an air of angelical patience; "but how can I be angry with a woman who has given me one of the best husbands in the world? And has not her own avarice been sufficiently punished by the ruin of her own hopes and the loss of the property by which she set so much store? Poor!" she cried. "Dear Lady Jane, what care we for poverty? I am used to it from childhood, and I am often thankful that Miss Crawley's money has gone to restore the splendour of the noble old family of which I am so proud to be a member. I am sure Sir Pitt will make a much better use of it than Rawdon would." All these speeches were reported to Sir Pitt by the most faithful of wives, and increased the favourable impression which Rebecca made; so much so that when, on the third day after the funeral, the family party were at dinner, Sir Pitt Crawley, carving fowls at the head of the table, actually said to Mrs. Rawdon, "Ahem! Rebecca, may I give you a wing?"--a speech which made the little woman's eyes sparkle with pleasure. While Rebecca was prosecuting the above schemes and hopes, and Pitt Crawley arranging the funeral ceremonial and other matters connected with his future progress and dignity, and Lady Jane busy with her nursery, as far as her mother would let her, and the sun rising and setting, and the clock-tower bell of the Hall ringing to dinner and to prayers as usual, the body of the late owner of Queen's Crawley lay in the apartment which he had occupied, watched unceasingly by the professional attendants who were engaged for that rite. A woman or two, and three or four undertaker's men, the best whom Southampton could furnish, dressed in black, and of a proper stealthy and tragical demeanour, had charge of the remains which they watched turn about, having the housekeeper's room for their place of rendezvous when off duty, where they played at cards in privacy and drank their beer. The members of the family and servants of the house kept away from the gloomy spot, where the bones of the descendant of an ancient line of knights and gentlemen lay, awaiting their final consignment to the family crypt. No regrets attended them, save those of the poor woman who had hoped to be Sir Pitt's wife and widow and who had fled in disgrace from the Hall over which she had so nearly been a ruler. Beyond her and a favourite old pointer he had, and between whom and himself an attachment subsisted during the period of his imbecility, the old man had not a single friend to mourn him, having indeed, during the whole course of his life, never taken the least pains to secure one. Could the best and kindest of us who depart from the earth have an opportunity of revisiting it, I suppose he or she (assuming that any Vanity Fair feelings subsist in the sphere whither we are bound) would have a pang of mortification at finding how soon our survivors were consoled. And so Sir Pitt was forgotten--like the kindest and best of us--only a few weeks sooner. Those who will may follow his remains to the grave, whither they were borne on the appointed day, in the most becoming manner, the family in black coaches, with their handkerchiefs up to their noses, ready for the tears which did not come; the undertaker and his gentlemen in deep tribulation; the select tenantry mourning out of compliment to the new landlord; the neighbouring gentry's carriages at three miles an hour, empty, and in profound affliction; the parson speaking out the formula about "our dear brother departed." As long as we have a man's body, we play our Vanities upon it, surrounding it with humbug and ceremonies, laying it in state, and packing it up in gilt nails and velvet; and we finish our duty by placing over it a stone, written all over with lies. Bute's curate, a smart young fellow from Oxford, and Sir Pitt Crawley composed between them an appropriate Latin epitaph for the late lamented Baronet, and the former preached a classical sermon, exhorting the survivors not to give way to grief and informing them in the most respectful terms that they also would be one day called upon to pass that gloomy and mysterious portal which had just closed upon the remains of their lamented brother. Then the tenantry mounted on horseback again, or stayed and refreshed themselves at the Crawley Arms. Then, after a lunch in the servants' hall at Queen's Crawley, the gentry's carriages wheeled off to their different destinations: then the undertaker's men, taking the ropes, palls, velvets, ostrich feathers, and other mortuary properties, clambered up on the roof of the hearse and rode off to Southampton. Their faces relapsed into a natural expression as the horses, clearing the lodge-gates, got into a brisker trot on the open road; and squads of them might have been seen, speckling with black the public-house entrances, with pewter- pots flashing in the sunshine. Sir Pitt's invalid chair was wheeled away into a tool-house in the garden; the old pointer used to howl sometimes at first, but these were the only accents of grief which were heard in the Hall of which Sir Pitt Crawley, Baronet, had been master for some threescore years. As the birds were pretty plentiful, and partridge shooting is as it were the duty of an English gentleman of statesmanlike propensities, Sir Pitt Crawley, the first shock of grief over, went out a little and partook of that diversion in a white hat with crape round it. The sight of those fields of stubble and turnips, now his own, gave him many secret joys. Sometimes, and with an exquisite humility, he took no gun, but went out with a peaceful bamboo cane; Rawdon, his big brother, and the keepers blazing away at his side. Pitt's money and acres had a great effect upon his brother. The penniless Colonel became quite obsequious and respectful to the head of his house, and despised the milksop Pitt no longer. Rawdon listened with sympathy to his senior's prospects of planting and draining, gave his advice about the stables and cattle, rode over to Mudbury to look at a mare, which he thought would carry Lady Jane, and offered to break her, &c.: the rebellious dragoon was quite humbled and subdued, and became a most creditable younger brother. He had constant bulletins from Miss Briggs in London respecting little Rawdon, who was left behind there, who sent messages of his own. "I am very well," he wrote. "I hope you are very well. I hope Mamma is very well. The pony is very well. Grey takes me to ride in the park. I can canter. I met the little boy who rode before. He cried when he cantered. I do not cry." Rawdon read these letters to his brother and Lady Jane, who was delighted with them. The Baronet promised to take charge of the lad at school, and his kind-hearted wife gave Rebecca a bank-note, begging her to buy a present with it for her little nephew. One day followed another, and the ladies of the house passed their life in those calm pursuits and amusements which satisfy country ladies. Bells rang to meals and to prayers. The young ladies took exercise on the pianoforte every morning after breakfast, Rebecca giving them the benefit of her instruction. Then they put on thick shoes and walked in the park or shrubberies, or beyond the palings into the village, descending upon the cottages, with Lady Southdown's medicine and tracts for the sick people there. Lady Southdown drove out in a pony-chaise, when Rebecca would take her place by the Dowager's side and listen to her solemn talk with the utmost interest. She sang Handel and Haydn to the family of evenings, and engaged in a large piece of worsted work, as if she had been born to the business and as if this kind of life was to continue with her until she should sink to the grave in a polite old age, leaving regrets and a great quantity of consols behind her--as if there were not cares and duns, schemes, shifts, and poverty waiting outside the park gates, to pounce upon her when she issued into the world again. "It isn't difficult to be a country gentleman's wife," Rebecca thought. "I think I could be a good woman if I had five thousand a year. I could dawdle about in the nursery and count the apricots on the wall. I could water plants in a green-house and pick off dead leaves from the geraniums. I could ask old women about their rheumatisms and order half-a-crown's worth of soup for the poor. I shouldn't miss it much, out of five thousand a year. I could even drive out ten miles to dine at a neighbour's, and dress in the fashions of the year before last. I could go to church and keep awake in the great family pew, or go to sleep behind the curtains, with my veil down, if I only had practice. I could pay everybody, if I had but the money. This is what the conjurors here pride themselves upon doing. They look down with pity upon us miserable sinners who have none. They think themselves generous if they give our children a five-pound note, and us contemptible if we are without one." And who knows but Rebecca was right in her speculations--and that it was only a question of money and fortune which made the difference between her and an honest woman? If you take temptations into account, who is to say that he is better than his neighbour? A comfortable career of prosperity, if it does not make people honest, at least keeps them so. An alderman coming from a turtle feast will not step out of his carnage to steal a leg of mutton; but put him to starve, and see if he will not purloin a loaf. Becky consoled herself by so balancing the chances and equalizing the distribution of good and evil in the world. The old haunts, the old fields and woods, the copses, ponds, and gardens, the rooms of the old house where she had spent a couple of years seven years ago, were all carefully revisited by her. She had been young there, or comparatively so, for she forgot the time when she ever WAS young--but she remembered her thoughts and feelings seven years back and contrasted them with those which she had at present, now that she had seen the world, and lived with great people, and raised herself far beyond her original humble station. "I have passed beyond it, because I have brains," Becky thought, "and almost all the rest of the world are fools. I could not go back and consort with those people now, whom I used to meet in my father's studio. Lords come up to my door with stars and garters, instead of poor artists with screws of tobacco in their pockets. I have a gentleman for my husband, and an Earl's daughter for my sister, in the very house where I was little better than a servant a few years ago. But am I much better to do now in the world than I was when I was the poor painter's daughter and wheedled the grocer round the corner for sugar and tea? Suppose I had married Francis who was so fond of me--I couldn't have been much poorer than I am now. Heigho! I wish I could exchange my position in society, and all my relations for a snug sum in the Three Per Cent. Consols"; for so it was that Becky felt the Vanity of human affairs, and it was in those securities that she would have liked to cast anchor. It may, perhaps, have struck her that to have been honest and humble, to have done her duty, and to have marched straightforward on her way, would have brought her as near happiness as that path by which she was striving to attain it. But--just as the children at Queen's Crawley went round the room where the body of their father lay--if ever Becky had these thoughts, she was accustomed to walk round them and not look in. She eluded them and despised them--or at least she was committed to the other path from which retreat was now impossible. And for my part I believe that remorse is the least active of all a man's moral senses--the very easiest to be deadened when wakened, and in some never wakened at all. We grieve at being found out and at the idea of shame or punishment, but the mere sense of wrong makes very few people unhappy in Vanity Fair. So Rebecca, during her stay at Queen's Crawley, made as many friends of the Mammon of Unrighteousness as she could possibly bring under control. Lady Jane and her husband bade her farewell with the warmest demonstrations of good-will. They looked forward with pleasure to the time when, the family house in Gaunt Street being repaired and beautified, they were to meet again in London. Lady Southdown made her up a packet of medicine and sent a letter by her to the Rev. Lawrence Grills, exhorting that gentleman to save the brand who "honoured" the letter from the burning. Pitt accompanied them with four horses in the carriage to Mudbury, having sent on their baggage in a cart previously, accompanied with loads of game. "How happy you will be to see your darling little boy again!" Lady Crawley said, taking leave of her kinswoman. "Oh so happy!" said Rebecca, throwing up the green eyes. She was immensely happy to be free of the place, and yet loath to go. Queen's Crawley was abominably stupid, and yet the air there was somehow purer than that which she had been accustomed to breathe. Everybody had been dull, but had been kind in their way. "It is all the influence of a long course of Three Per Cents," Becky said to herself, and was right very likely. However, the London lamps flashed joyfully as the stage rolled into Piccadilly, and Briggs had made a beautiful fire in Curzon Street, and little Rawdon was up to welcome back his papa and mamma. 第 四 十 一 章    蓓基重回老家     孝服已经做好了,毕脱.克劳莱爵士那里也已经去信通知了,于是克劳莱上校夫妇坐上海弗莱邮车,动身到乡下去.大约九年之前,利蓓加还是个初出茅庐的女孩子,跟着那死了的从男爵一同下乡,坐的就是这辆车子.客店前面的院子她还记得清清楚楚,还有那当槽儿的问她要钱她没有给,还有剑桥大学的学生要想巴结她,在路上把大衣给她裹在身上,这一切都如在目前.罗登坐在外面,很想帮着赶车,可是家里新近遭了丧事,当然不好胡来.他坐在车夫旁边,一路闲谈,说起马儿,说起路上的情形,说起他和毕脱小时到伊顿上学的时候,谁家开着旅馆,谁家养的马租出来拉邮车等等.到了墨特白莱,就看见家里的马车等着他们,由两匹马拉着,赶车的穿着一身黑衣服.他们进车的时候,利蓓加说:"罗登,还是那辆旧车子,瞧这些座位上的布给蛀掉好多了.为着弄脏了这一块,毕脱爵士......喝!铁器铺子的掌柜道生也把百叶窗关上了;......为着弄脏了这一块,毕脱爵士还大闹了一场.记得那一回到莎乌撒泼顿去接你姑妈,他打破了一瓶樱桃白兰地酒,就给弄上这一大块.唉,时间过得真快!那小屋子门口站在她母亲旁边跳跳蹦蹦的女孩儿难道是宝莱.托尔博爱不成?我记得她从前是个怪肮脏的小东西,老是在园里捡野草."     罗登说:"这女孩儿长得好."那时小屋前面的人对他行礼,他竖起两个指头碰碰帽子边,给他们还礼.蓓基东鞠躬,西招呼,仪态雍容的四面应酬.她跟人招呼的时候说不出的喜欢.这一回,她不再是个闯江湖的骗子,算是名正言顺的回到祖宗的基业上来了.罗登呢,反有些羞愧短气.大概他想起小时候的情景和自己当年纯朴的气质,模模糊糊的感到悔恨.疑惧.惭愧,心上着实难受.     利蓓加说:"你的妹妹们一定都长大了."大概从她离开这两个姑娘之后,这还是第一回想到她们.     上校答道:"我实在不知道.咦,这是洛克老妈妈呀!你好哇,洛克太太?我是罗登少爷,你还记得我吗?这些老婆子真长寿,我小的时候就仿佛觉得她挺老挺老的了."     那时车子恰好进了洛克老妈妈管着的大门.洛克妈妈吱喽喽的把旧铁门打开来,马车便在两根长满青苔的柱子中间穿过去,......柱子上面塑着蛇和鸽子组成的家徽.进门的时候蓓基再三要和老妈妈握过了手才肯继续往前走.     罗登四面看看说:"我们老爹把树木砍了好些."说完,他不响了,蓓基也不说话.他们两人都很激动,不免回忆到从前的事情.罗登想起伊顿公学,想起母亲,在他记忆中,她举止端庄,却有些冷冰冰的.他想起死去的姊姊和他两个最好;还有,他从前老是痛打毕脱.这么想着,他又惦记起在家的小罗登来了.利蓓加想到自己年轻时的种种遭遇,当时的生活真是堕落,干的全是瞒人的勾当,直到她进了这两扇大门,才算见了世面.她还想起平克顿小姐.乔斯和爱米丽亚.     石子路和平台都已经磨洗干净了.进门处挂着一块漆过的大报丧板.马车在那看得眼熟的台阶前面一停下来,就有两个高个子.相貌庄严.穿黑衣服的听差把前门往左右各开了一扇.他们夫妻臂挽着臂走过穿堂的时候,罗登涨红了脸,蓓基的颜色却有些发青.然后他们走进装橡木护壁板的客厅,蓓基一把抓紧了丈夫的胳膊.毕脱爵士夫妇早已在那里准备迎接.毕脱爵士穿了黑衣服,吉恩夫人也穿了黑衣服,莎吴塞唐夫人头上裹着一顶极大的头巾,上面钉满了细长的黑玻璃珠子,又插着黑的鸟毛;那鸟毛在她头上摇来晃去,倒像柩车上面的大盘子.     毕脱爵士料得不错,她并没有走,不过每逢看见女婿和她那忤逆的女儿,便正颜厉色的一声儿不言语.在孩子们屋里,她的脸色也是阴沉沉的,两个孩子瞧着都觉得害怕.这一回大家欢迎罗登夫妇这两个浪子回到家里来,她也只好微微的点了一点头,头上的头巾和黑鸟毛跟着向前侧了一侧.     说句实话,她冷淡不冷淡,罗登夫妇并不在乎.在他们心上,她当时不过在次要地位,当权的哥哥嫂子怎么接待,才是他们最关心的.     毕脱脸上红了一层,上前拉着弟弟的手;他又和利蓓加拉手,并且对她深深鞠了一个躬.吉恩夫人把小婶子两只手都握着,很亲热的吻了她.不知怎么,这个闯江湖的老手受了这一抱一吻,竟眼泪汪汪起来.我们都知道,她是难得掉眼泪的,不过吉恩夫人这么诚诚恳恳,倾心相待,实在使她又喜欢又感动.罗登见嫂嫂这般亲热,胆子也壮了,捻捻胡子,上前吻了她一下,吉恩夫大登时把脸绯红了.     后来没有外人,罗登对妻子说道:"吉恩夫人真不错.毕脱长胖了.这次丧事场面很阔."利蓓加道:"他反正有的是钱."罗登说:"那丈母娘是个怪可怕的老婆子,两个妹妹长得不难看."这话利蓓加也同意.     两个姑娘本来在学校里,这一回给叫回来参加丧礼.大概毕脱.克劳莱爵士为一家的体面着想,认为应该尽量多拉几个穿黑的人来送丧.家里所有的男女佣人,收容所里的贫苦老太婆(死了的毕脱爵士吞没了她们许多钱),教区书记的一家,大厦和牧师家里雇着的手下人,都穿上了黑衣服.除此之外,包办丧事的人也带了好些帮忙的人,少说也有二十来个,都是浑身穿黑,帽子上也围着黑纱,这样,盛大的葬仪举行时场面上可以好看些.可是这些人在我们的戏里都是不开口的角色,既没有台词,又没有戏可做,在这里不必多占篇幅了.     利蓓加见了小姑们,并不隐讳自己从前做她们教师的事.她很和蔼.很直爽的谈起旧事,一本正经考问她们的功课,而且说分别之后她时常想念她们,总是牵心挂肚的惦记着.听她说话,仿佛她离了姑娘们一心都在她们身上,不时的为她们的前途筹划.克劳莱夫人和她两个小姑都那么想.     晚饭之前穿衣打扮的时候,露丝小姐对凡奥兰小姐说:"八年来她一点没有变."     那一个答道:"这些红头发女人气色真好."     露丝小姐说:"她那头发的颜色比以前深了好些.我想大概是染过的."她又道:"她长胖了,比以前好看."露丝小姐自己如今也越长越胖了.     凡奥兰小姐道:"难为她倒并不摆架子,还记得从前做过我们的教师."照她的意思,所有的女教师应该安分守己,切不可妄自尊大.她忘了她的祖父虽是华尔泊尔.克劳莱爵士,外祖父却不过是墨特白莱的道生先生,实在说起来,她的家传的纹章里还有个煤斗子呢.在名利场中,像她那样单有好心而没有记性的人到处都是.     "牧师家的姑娘们说她的母亲是歌剧院里的舞女,我想不至于吧......"     露丝雍容大度的答道:"出身低微可不能算罪名.我觉得大哥做的不错,她既然是咱们家的人,当然不能不理她.别德婶婶还多说些什么呢?她想把爱玛嫁给酒店掌柜胡泼那小伙子,说是要定酒,老实不客气的就把他请回家了!"     凡奥兰道:"不知道莎吴塞唐夫人会不会走.她瞧着罗登太太,一脸生气的样儿."     露丝(原文是"凡奥兰",想是作者的笔误.)赌神罚誓的说道:"她要走我真求之不得.我可不要看《芬却莱广场的洗衣妇人》."那时楼底下按照惯例,已经打钟催大家吃饭了,两位姑娘一面说话,一面往下走.有一条走廊是她们避开不走的,因为棺材就停放在走廊尽头一间关着的屋子里,由两个人守着;里面不分昼夜点着蜡烛.     晚饭之前,吉恩夫人把利蓓加引到专为她预备的屋子里去.这里也像大房子里别的部分,在毕脱的管理之下整齐舒服得多了.吉恩夫人看见罗登太太那几个朴素的小箱子已经给送上来,分放在卧房里和隔壁的梳妆室里,就帮着小婶子脱下整齐的黑帽子黑外衣,并且问她还要什么不要.     利蓓加道:"我最希望能到孩子屋里去看看你的两个小宝贝."她这么一说,两位太太就相亲相爱的对看了一眼,手拉手的到孩子屋里去.     玛蒂尔达还不到四岁,蓓基说她是全世界最招人爱的小宝贝儿.男孩子才两岁,脸色青白,头很大,眼睛也没有神,蓓基说他不但长得特别大,而且相貌和智力都与众不同,这样的孩子真是少见的.     吉恩夫人叹道:"我只希望妈妈别老是给他吃药.我常想,如果少吃点儿药,大家的身体都会好些."接着吉恩夫人和她的新朋友便亲密的谈起小孩儿生病吃药的话来.这类的闲谈,听说不但所有做母亲的人喜欢,大多数别的女人也喜欢.五十年前,写书的还是个怪好玩的小孩儿,吃过晚饭后总得跟着太太奶奶们一起离开饭厅.我记得很清楚,她们说的大都是自己怎么害病.如今我也问过两三位太太,她们都承认这风气并没有改变.太太小姐们不妨自己观察一下,我劝你们今天晚上吃完了甜点心,大伙儿在客厅里谈心的时候留心听听大家说的话,看是怎么样.总而言之,过了半小时之后,蓓基和吉恩夫人已经成了很亲密的好朋友了.到晚上,吉恩夫人对毕脱爵士说她的小婶子直爽诚恳,心地也好,待人也亲切.     利蓓加真是不辞劳苦,她先是容容易易的赢得了女儿的欢心,然后便竭力想法子讨好那威风凛凛的莎吴塞唐夫人.趁着她夫人独自一个的当儿,利蓓加立刻动手笼络.她谈到孩子的健康问题,说起有一回她的宝贝儿子害病,全巴黎的医生都说他没有救了,后来她给他吃了一大服轻粉,才算保全了小命儿;如果没有轻粉,孩子岂不就完了呢?然后她又说起她经常在梅飞厄一家教堂里做礼拜,认识了不起的劳伦斯.葛瑞尔斯牧师,因此时常听得莎吴塞唐夫人的大名.她说近年来环境改了,遭遇又不如意,所以对于人生的看法和从前大不相同.从前迷恋着富贵荣华,因此一误再误,但愿既往的糊涂行径不至于使自己陷于不能自拔的绝境,她将来还打算在宗教方面下些工夫.她说起以前全亏有克劳莱先生给她讲些教理,又说起曾经看过《芬却莱广场的洗衣妇人》,得到很大的益处.她又问起写那本小书的天才作者爱密莲小姐.她现在成了爱密莲.霍恩伯洛夫人了,住在好望角,她的丈夫很有希望成为加弗拉瑞亚的主教.     最后她又干了一件最聪明的事,便取得了莎吴塞唐夫人的欢心.葬礼过后,她觉得心神不宁,身上不快,恳求她夫人想法子.老夫人不但口头指点,到晚上穿上长睡衣,打扮得更像麦克白夫人,亲身走到蓓基房里来.她带着一包自己最喜欢的传教小册子,还有一杯自己配的药水,逼着罗登太太喝下去.     蓓基先接过小册子,翻开来全神贯注的看着,一面和老太太讨论小书的内容,又请教怎样才能求得灵魂上的平安,希望这样挨着,肉身就可以不必受她医治.无奈关于宗教的话题都已经说完了,麦克白夫人还是不肯走,一定要眼看蓓基吃了药才罢.可怜的罗登太太没法,只得装出感激的样子,当着那位顽固的老太太把药水喝下去.老太太祝福了那上她当的可怜东西,自己回去了.     她的祝福对于罗登太太并没有多少用处,罗登进来的时候看见她的气色不大对.利蓓加把方才的事说了一遍;她自己虽然成了笑柄,但是这件事实在滑稽,她笑得忍不住,便细细形容了一番,描写自己怎么上了莎吴塞唐夫人的当.罗登听得哈哈大笑,那声音和平常的时候竟也不相上下.罗登夫妇回到伦敦梅飞厄的家里之后,斯丹恩勋爵和小罗登常常听了这故事发笑.蓓基把这出戏从头到尾演给他们看.她穿上睡衣,戴上睡帽,板着脸儿满口大道理.她假装叫人吃药,一面解释药水的好处,把那道貌岸然的样子模仿得维妙维肖,听的人还以为这哼哼唧唧的声音是从伯爵夫人自己的罗马式鼻子里发出来的呢.凡是常到梅飞厄来拜望蓓基的客人老是跟她说:"把莎吴塞唐夫人给你吃药的故事表演一下吧."莎吴塞唐伯爵夫人居然变得这么有趣,还是生平第一遭呢.     毕脱爵士还记得从前利蓓加对自己十分尊敬,所以不讨厌她.她和罗登的婚姻虽然不是门当户对,可是对于罗登却是有益处的,只要看他现在的行为和习惯就知道了.再说,他们结了婚岂不是成全了毕脱本人吗?手段狡滑的家伙明知道他全靠这头亲事才能到手偌大的财产,心里暗暗好笑,觉得他自己反正没有理由出来反对.利蓓加的行事.谈吐以及她表示的意见,也没有减少他的得意.     从前毕脱最乐意的就是蓓基恭而敬之的态度;如今她加倍的小心,而且能够引得毕脱滔滔不绝的发议论,听得他自己也老大惊奇.毕脱本来佩服自己的才能,禁不起利蓓加在旁边一夸奖,更得意了.在嫂子面前,利蓓加的话说的也是合情合理.她说一手撮合这婚姻的是别德.克劳莱太太,后来在背后说坏话的也是别德.克劳莱太太.她这人贪得无厌,要想独吞克劳莱小姐的财产,设法叫罗登失去姑妈的欢心,才编出许多恶毒的谣言中伤利蓓加.她做出天使一般逆来顺受的样子,说道:"她要我们穷,总算成功了.可是她给了我一个世上少有的好丈夫,叫我怎么能跟她生气呢?再说,她自己的希望也落了空,想了半辈子的财产没有到手,她那份儿贪心可不是也遭了报应了吗?"她又说:"没有钱怕什么?亲爱的吉恩夫人,我们才不怕穷呢!我是从小过惯苦日子的.我能够嫁到这么有根基的旧世家做媳妇,心里真是得意.如今能用克劳莱小姐的财产恢复咱们家里从前的光辉,岂不好呢?我一想到这上头,时常觉得高兴.毕脱爵士是识得大体的,这些钱到了他手里反正比到了罗登手里好."     毕脱爵士的妻子是忠实不过的,当然把利蓓加说的话一句句都传给丈夫听,更加深了蓓基在他心上留下的好印象.他对蓓基实在满意,葬礼完毕以后第三天,全家在一起吃饭,毕脱.克劳莱爵士坐在饭桌的主位上切鸡,竟对罗登太太说:"呃哼��!利蓓加,我给你切个翅膀好吗?"利蓓加一听这话,高兴得眼睛都亮了.     利蓓加忙着串设计谋,希望达到自己的目的;毕脱.克劳莱爵士忙着布置丧礼,筹划着种种和他的前途和地位有关的事务;吉恩夫人在母亲许可的范围里面忙着照料儿女;太阳每天升起来落下去;家里那钟楼里的大钟照常按时催人吃饭祈祷;女王的克劳莱的旧主人呢,却躺在他生前住的房间里,由两个专门雇来伴灵的人日夜看守着.这些人都是吃这行饭的,里面有一两个是女人,另外有三四个办丧事的人派来的男人,在沙乌撒泼顿算是最像样的了.他们都穿了黑衣服,到处摆出办丧事的时候少不了的那股子蹑手蹑脚.悲悲戚戚的神气.他们轮流伴灵,下班时在管家娘子的房里歇息,私底下斗牌喝啤酒.     停放着的人生前本来是世家子弟,上代全是武士绅士,现在只等着给抬进家墓了.全家主仆都避得远远的,不肯走到这阴惨惨的地方来.痛惜他的只有一个人,就是那可怜的女人......她本来希望做毕脱爵士的妻子,差点儿做了大房子里的主妇,到后来是不得不逃走了的.老头儿还有一只心爱的老猎狗,在他半疯半傻的一阵子和他很有交情;除了这女人和猎狗,没有一个人为他伤心,因为他一辈子没有费过一丝一毫的力气和别人交朋友.我们里面品质最优美.心地最仁厚的人,死后如果能够重游旧地,准会发现在世的亲友早已把他丢在脑勺子后面.设若我们死后仍旧脱不了名利场上的见解,大概免不了觉得懊丧.毕脱爵士不久就给大家忘掉了,哪怕是我们里头最好最忠厚的,在活着的人心里也不过比他多呆几个星期罢了.     谁高兴去送丧的不妨跟着一起到坟上去.到下葬的日子,仪仗排列得非常体面.家里的人坐着蒙上黑布的马车,把手帕掩着鼻子,准备擦抹掉不下来的眼泪.承办丧事的人和他的随从们满面悲悲戚戚的样子;佃户的代表为讨好新地主,也来送丧.邻近地主们的马车也在行列里面慢慢的走,那速度一小时不过跑三哩;这些车子虽是空的,可是表现的悲痛是深切的.牧师照规矩讲了一篇话追悼"我们已经去世的亲爱的兄弟".只要死者的尸首还在,活人便借此摆虚场面:我们装模作样,硬编出许多繁文缛节,先把尸身盛仪停放,然后搁在丝绒衬底的棺材里,用镀金的钉子钉起来,最后在坟上竖了石碑,上面刻着连篇的谎话,这样才算尽了心.别德的副牧师是个刚从牛津毕业的伶俐小伙子;他和毕脱.克劳莱爵士两个人合作,给去世的从男爵做了一篇很得体的拉丁文墓志铭.那副牧师又讲了一篇精心著作的训戒,劝告活着的人不可过分哀痛,并且用最恭敬的口气提醒大家,说那神秘的.阴森森的大门已经把去世的弟兄和其余的人隔开了,总有一天,在世的人也得经过这一关.讲道完毕以后,佃户们有的骑马回去,有的留在克劳莱纹章酒店里吃东西.邻居的车夫们在女王的克劳莱大厦的下房吃过午饭,赶着车子各自上路回家.办丧事的人收拾了绳子.棺衣.丝绒帔.鸵鸟毛等等丧事用品,爬到柩车顶上坐着回到沙乌撒泼顿去了.他们等车子出了大门来到大路上,立刻催着马快跑起来,脸上的表情也恢复了常态.到了镇上,他们三三两两在酒店里喝酒,只见各处店门口都是穿黑的人,手里的酒壶映着太阳光闪闪发亮.毕脱爵士的轮椅给推到花园里堆各色器具的屋子里去了.那条老猎狗起初时常呜呜的哀叫;从男爵毕脱.克劳莱爵士当家当了近六十年,身后除了那猎狗之外竟没有一个人为他哭过一声.     附近的飞禽很多,而且涉足政界的英国绅士似乎没有一个不爱打野鸡的,因此毕脱.克劳莱爵士等到第一阵哀痛过去之后,偶尔也戴上围着黑纱的白帽子,出去打鸟消遣.他看着四面的田野,有的种着萝卜,有的留着残余的麦秆,都是自己的财产,心里暗暗得意.有时他非常的虚心,自己不带猎熗,只带着一支不能当武器的竹节手杖,让他高大的弟弟罗登和他的猎户们在旁边砰砰的开熗.毕脱如今有钱又有地,所以他的弟弟也对他另眼相看.克劳莱上校自己是一个子儿也没有的,对于一家之主恭而敬之,不再因为他是个脓包而看不起他.他哥哥谈起怎么种树,怎么排水,他在旁边洗耳恭听;对于牛羊马匹怎样豢养,他也参加了意见,并且特地骑马到墨特白莱给吉恩夫人挑选一只母马当坐骑,自告奋勇训练它等等;总之,当年强头倔脑的骑兵现在变得低心小胆,成了个很不错的弟弟了.布立葛丝时常的给他写信,报告小罗登在伦敦的近况.孩子自己也写信说:"我很好.我希望您很好.我希望妈妈很好.小马很好.格雷带我上公园骑马.我能骑着马跑了.我碰见上次骑马的小男孩儿.马一跑他就哭了.我不哭."罗登把这些信念给哥哥听,也念给吉恩夫人听;吉恩夫人听了非常喜欢.从男爵答应栽培孩子上学,他的忠厚的妻子拿出一张五镑的钞票交给利蓓加,请她买一样东西送给小侄儿.     一天天过去,大厦里的太太小姐们过着平淡的日子,也有些平淡的消遣;住在乡下的女人,对于这种生活倒也心满意足.她们随着钟声吃饭和祈祷.两位姑娘吃完早饭就练琴,利蓓加点拨点拨她们.然后她们穿上厚底鞋子在园地里和小路上散步,有时候走出大门到村子里去访问乡下人,带着莎吴塞唐夫人的小册子和药品,送给村里的病人.莎吴塞唐夫人常常坐小马车出去兜风,利蓓加坐在她旁边,聚精会神的听她讲大道理.到晚上,她唱韩德尔和海登的曲子给全家听,过后拿出一大块毛绒刺绣品来绣花.看她的样子,竟好像她活着就为干这些事,一直到她成了个斯文的老太太,一直到她死,再也不用干别的事了.不但如此,你一定还以为她死后会留下许多的公债票,大家都舍不得她.谁知道她一到自己家里就得使心用计,带骗带哄的对付着过日子呢?谁知道她那么穷,要债的就在大门口等着呢?     利蓓加想道:"做个乡下绅士的太太并不难.我想如果我有了五千镑一年的进款,也会做正经女人.到那时我就成天在孩子屋里磨蹭,数数墙上一共结了几个杏儿,在花房里浇浇花,在石榴红里面捡捡枯叶子.我也会问候老婆子们痛风可好些了,也肯花半克朗买些汤给穷人喝;有了五千镑一年,花掉一个半克朗算什么呢?逢上有朋友请客,我就坐着马车走十哩路专诚去吃饭,穿的衣服哪怕是前年的款式也没有关系.我一定上教堂,坐在家里的大包座里面忍住不打盹儿,或是拉下面纱躲在幔子后面睡觉,这些事只要练习几回就成了.有了钱,我也肯付账.这儿的人为什么算厉害能干呢?还不是靠着这点儿本事自鸣得意吗?我们这些没钱的真是罪孽深重,他们瞧着只觉得可怜.他们给了我孩子五镑钱,就自以为慷慨,我们拿不出钱的人,就该给他们瞧不起."谁能批评蓓基的想法不对呢?她和一般正经女人为什么不同?谁能说不是因为金钱作祟呢?各人经过的考验是不同的,你只要考虑到这一层,就不敢自以为高人一等了.如果境况宽裕,百事遂心,虽然不能使奸刁的人变得老实,至少能防止老实人腐化堕落.譬如说,一位副市长刚刚赴过甲鱼席,决不会从马车里走出来偷人家一只羊腿;到他认真挨饿的时候,就保不住不去偷面包.蓓基把各人的机会比较了一下,认为世上的是非善恶分配得十分平均.     七年之前她在这里住过两年,从前常到的地方,像田野.树林子.池塘.花园.小树丛.大房子里的各间屋子,她一处处都重新看了一遍.那时她还年轻,或者可说还不算老,因为真正年轻的时候,她早已忘怀了.七年前的见解和感情她还记得;现在她见过了世面,结识了大人物,地位比从前高得多;把现在的见解感情和七年前的比一比,确是大不相同.     蓓基心里想道:"我的地位比从前高了不知多少,因为我有脑子,而其余的人差不多全是傻子.如今再叫我过从前的日子,我也过不惯.以前在爸爸画室里碰见的人,我可不能再跟他们交朋友了.如今到我家里来的都是戴勋章佩宝星的大老爷,不再是口袋里搁着一纸包烟丝的穷艺人.我的丈夫是个绅士,我的妯娌是伯爵的女儿.几年以前,我在这屋里的地位跟佣人差不多,现在可是主人了.从前我只是个穷画家的女儿,甜言蜜语的哄着转角上的杂货店掌柜,问他赊茶叶赊白糖,现在我究竟比从前阔了多少呢?倘或我嫁了弗朗西斯......他倒是真心爱我......到今天也不见得比我现在更穷,唉!只要有人肯送我一些年息三厘的统一公债,让我舒服过日子,我愿意把社交界的地位和阔亲戚们都让给他."蓓基感到前途渺茫,只望能手里有些可靠的产业,安心度日.     大概她也曾想到,倘若她做个诚实而没有地位的人,尽责任,走直路,说不定也很快乐;只看她努力不懈的追求快乐,走的路却不见得比第一条离开目标近.即使蓓基偶然有过这些心思,她也不愿意多想,总是转弯抹角的躲开算数,就好像女王的克劳莱的姑娘们躲开停灵的房间一般.这种心思是她瞧不起的,不肯正视的,而且她已经走上了第二条路,也难抽身后退.照我看来,一个人的良心难得责备自己,即使心上有过不去的感觉,也就一下子给自己蒙混过去了.还有些人,根本一辈子没有受过良心的责备.     在名利场上的人,一想到自己的阴私会被人揭发,或是可能丢面子,受处分,都觉得难受,可是单为做错了事就感到不安的却没有几个.     利蓓加在女王的克劳莱住了一阵子,对于那"不义的财神"治下的人,尽量的结交.临走时吉恩夫人和她丈夫都竭力表示亲热,希望不久和她再见,因为只等伦敦岗脱街的房子重新修理装饰过之后,他们便准备搬到城里去住.莎吴塞唐夫人替她包了一包药品,又请她带一封信给劳伦斯.葛瑞尔斯牧师,信上说那带信的人是她从危难中救出来的,恳求牧师留心她的灵魂.毕脱坐着马车,赶着四匹马,一直送他们到墨特白莱.他们的行李早已打发车子先运掉了,行李车上还装了许多送给他们的野味.     克劳莱夫人和小婶子告别的时候说道:"你不久就能跟小宝贝见面了,心里高兴得怎么样?"     利蓓加翻起绿眼珠子望着天答道:"唉,我高兴死了!"她巴不得能够离开乡下,可是又舍不得走.女王的克劳莱真是说不出来的沉闷,可是那儿的空气似乎比她往常呼吸的要干净些.乡下的人蠢得很,可是待人都很忠厚.蓓基自己暗想道:"这是多年拿三厘利息的影响呀."她这话大概有些道理.     邮车走进毕加迪莱,伦敦的灯光闪闪烁烁叫人看着高兴.在克生街住宅里,布立葛丝已经生了一炉熊熊的火;小罗登还没有睡觉,等着欢迎爸爸和妈妈.

CHAPTER XLII Which Treats of the Osborne Family Considerable time has elapsed since we have seen our respectable friend, old Mr. Osborne of Russell Square. He has not been the happiest of mortals since last we met him. Events have occurred which have not improved his temper, and in more in stances than one he has not been allowed to have his own way. To be thwarted in this reasonable desire was always very injurious to the old gentleman; and resistance became doubly exasperating when gout, age, loneliness, and the force of many disappointments combined to weigh him down. His stiff black hair began to grow quite white soon after his son's death; his-face grew redder; his hands trembled more and more as he poured out his glass of port wine. He led his clerks a dire life in the City: his family at home were not much happier. I doubt if Rebecca, whom we have seen piously praying for Consols, would have exchanged her poverty and the dare-devil excitement and chances of her life for Osborne's money and the humdrum gloom which enveloped him. He had proposed for Miss Swartz, but had been rejected scornfully by the partisans of that lady, who married her to a young sprig of Scotch nobility. He was a man to have married a woman out of low life and bullied her dreadfully afterwards; but no person presented herself suitable to his taste, and, instead, he tyrannized over his unmarried daughter, at home. She had a fine carriage and fine horses and sat at the head of a table loaded with the grandest plate. She had a cheque-book, a prize footman to follow her when she walked, unlimited credit, and bows and compliments from all the tradesmen, and all the appurtenances of an heiress; but she spent a woeful time. The little charity-girls at the Foundling, the sweeperess at the crossing, the poorest under- kitchen-maid in the servants' hall, was happy compared to that unfortunate and now middle-aged young lady. Frederick Bullock, Esq., of the house of Bullock, Hulker, and Bullock, had married Maria Osborne, not without a great deal of difficulty and grumbling on Mr. Bullock's part. George being dead and cut out of his father's will, Frederick insisted that the half of the old gentleman's property should be settled upon his Maria, and indeed, for a long time, refused, "to come to the scratch" (it was Mr. Frederick's own expression) on any other terms. Osborne said Fred had agreed to take his daughter with twenty thousand, and he should bind himself to no more. "Fred might take it, and welcome, or leave it, and go and be hanged." Fred, whose hopes had been raised when George had been disinherited, thought himself infamously swindled by the old merchant, and for some time made as if he would break off the match altogether. Osborne withdrew his account from Bullock and Hulker's, went on 'Change with a horsewhip which he swore he would lay across the back of a certain scoundrel that should be nameless, and demeaned himself in his usual violent manner. Jane Osborne condoled with her sister Maria during this family feud. "I always told you, Maria, that it was your money he loved and not you," she said, soothingly. "He selected me and my money at any rate; he didn't choose you and yours," replied Maria, tossing up her head. The rapture was, however, only temporary. Fred's father and senior partners counselled him to take Maria, even with the twenty thousand settled, half down, and half at the death of Mr. Osborne, with the chances of the further division of the property. So he "knuckled down," again to use his own phrase, and sent old Hulker with peaceable overtures to Osborne. It was his father, he said, who would not hear of the match, and had made the difficulties; he was most anxious to keep the engagement. The excuse was sulkily accepted by Mr. Osborne. Hulker and Bullock were a high family of the City aristocracy, and connected with the "nobs" at the West End. It was something for the old man to be able to say, "My son, sir, of the house of Hulker, Bullock, and Co., sir; my daughter's cousin, Lady Mary Mango, sir, daughter of the Right Hon. The Earl of Castlemouldy." In his imagination he saw his house peopled by the "nobs." So he forgave young Bullock and consented that the marriage should take place. It was a grand affair--the bridegroom's relatives giving the breakfast, their habitations being near St. George's, Hanover Square, where the business took place. The "nobs of the West End" were invited, and many of them signed the book. Mr. Mango and Lady Mary Mango were there, with the dear young Gwendoline and Guinever Mango as bridesmaids; Colonel Bludyer of the Dragoon Guards (eldest son of the house of Bludyer Brothers, Mincing Lane), another cousin of the bridegroom, and the Honourable Mrs. Bludyer; the Honourable George Boulter, Lord Levant's son, and his lady, Miss Mango that was; Lord Viscount Castletoddy; Honourable James McMull and Mrs. McMull (formerly Miss Swartz); and a host of fashionables, who have all married into Lombard Street and done a great deal to ennoble Cornhill. The young couple had a house near Berkeley Square and a small villa at Roehampton, among the banking colony there. Fred was considered to have made rather a mesalliance by the ladies of his family, whose grandfather had been in a Charity School, and who were allied through the husbands with some of the best blood in England. And Maria was bound, by superior pride and great care in the composition of her visiting-book, to make up for the defects of birth, and felt it her duty to see her father and sister as little as possible. That she should utterly break with the old man, who had still so many scores of thousand pounds to give away, is absurd to suppose. Fred Bullock would never allow her to do that. But she was still young and incapable of hiding her feelings; and by inviting her papa and sister to her third-rate parties, and behaving very coldly to them when they came, and by avoiding Russell Square, and indiscreetly begging her father to quit that odious vulgar place, she did more harm than all Frederick's diplomacy could repair, and perilled her chance of her inheritance like a giddy heedless creature as she was. "So Russell Square is not good enough for Mrs. Maria, hay?" said the old gentleman, rattling up the carriage windows as he and his daughter drove away one night from Mrs. Frederick Bullock's, after dinner. "So she invites her father and sister to a second day's dinner (if those sides, or ontrys, as she calls 'em, weren't served yesterday, I'm d--d), and to meet City folks and littery men, and keeps the Earls and the Ladies, and the Honourables to herself. Honourables? Damn Honourables. I am a plain British merchant I am, and could buy the beggarly hounds over and over. Lords, indeed!-- why, at one of her swarreys I saw one of 'em speak to a dam fiddler --a fellar I despise. And they won't come to Russell Square, won't they? Why, I'll lay my life I've got a better glass of wine, and pay a better figure for it, and can show a handsomer service of silver, and can lay a better dinner on my mahogany, than ever they see on theirs--the cringing, sneaking, stuck-up fools. Drive on quick, James: I want to get back to Russell Square--ha, ha!" and he sank back into the corner with a furious laugh. With such reflections on his own superior merit, it was the custom of the old gentleman not unfrequently to console himself. Jane Osborne could not but concur in these opinions respecting her sister's conduct; and when Mrs. Frederick's first-born, Frederick Augustus Howard Stanley Devereux Bullock, was born, old Osborne, who was invited to the christening and to be godfather, contented himself with sending the child a gold cup, with twenty guineas inside it for the nurse. "That's more than any of your Lords will give, I'LL warrant," he said and refused to attend at the ceremony. The splendour of the gift, however, caused great satisfaction to the house of Bullock. Maria thought that her father was very much pleased with her, and Frederick augured the best for his little son and heir. One can fancy the pangs with which Miss Osborne in her solitude in Russell Square read the Morning Post, where her sister's name occurred every now and then, in the articles headed "Fashionable Reunions," and where she had an opportunity of reading a description of Mrs. F. Bullock's costume, when presented at the drawing room by Lady Frederica Bullock. Jane's own life, as we have said, admitted of no such grandeur. It was an awful existence. She had to get up of black winter's mornings to make breakfast for her scowling old father, who would have turned the whole house out of doors if his tea had not been ready at half-past eight. She remained silent opposite to him, listening to the urn hissing, and sitting in tremor while the parent read his paper and consumed his accustomed portion of muffins and tea. At half-past nine he rose and went to the City, and she was almost free till dinner-time, to make visitations in the kitchen and to scold the servants; to drive abroad and descend upon the tradesmen, who were prodigiously respectful; to leave her cards and her papa's at the great glum respectable houses of their City friends; or to sit alone in the large drawing-room, expecting visitors; and working at a huge piece of worsted by the fire, on the sofa, hard by the great Iphigenia clock, which ticked and tolled with mournful loudness in the dreary room. The great glass over the mantelpiece, faced by the other great console glass at the opposite end of the room, increased and multiplied between them the brown Holland bag in which the chandelier hung, until you saw these brown Holland bags fading away in endless perspectives, and this apartment of Miss Osborne's seemed the centre of a system of drawing-rooms. When she removed the cordovan leather from the grand piano and ventured to play a few notes on it, it sounded with a mournful sadness, startling the dismal echoes of the house. George's picture was gone, and laid upstairs in a lumber-room in the garret; and though there was a consciousness of him, and father and daughter often instinctively knew that they were thinking of him, no mention was ever made of the brave and once darling son. At five o'clock Mr. Osborne came back to his dinner, which he and his daughter took in silence (seldom broken, except when he swore and was savage, if the cooking was not to his liking), or which they shared twice in a month with a party of dismal friends of Osborne's rank and age. Old Dr. Gulp and his lady from Bloomsbury Square; old Mr. Frowser, the attorney, from Bedford Row, a very great man, and from his business, hand-in-glove with the "nobs at the West End"; old Colonel Livermore, of the Bombay Army, and Mrs. Livermore, from Upper Bedford Place; old Sergeant Toffy and Mrs. Toffy; and sometimes old Sir Thomas Coffin and Lady Coffin, from Bedford Square. Sir Thomas was celebrated as a hanging judge, and the particular tawny port was produced when he dined with Mr. Osborne. These people and their like gave the pompous Russell Square merchant pompous dinners back again. They had solemn rubbers of whist, when they went upstairs after drinking, and their carriages were called at half past ten. Many rich people, whom we poor devils are in the habit of envying, lead contentedly an existence like that above described. Jane Osborne scarcely ever met a man under sixty, and almost the only bachelor who appeared in their society was Mr. Smirk, the celebrated ladies' doctor. I can't say that nothing had occurred to disturb the monotony of this awful existence: the fact is, there had been a secret in poor Jane's life which had made her father more savage and morose than even nature, pride, and over-feeding had made him. This secret was connected with Miss Wirt, who had a cousin an artist, Mr. Smee, very celebrated since as a portrait-painter and R.A., but who once was glad enough to give drawing lessons to ladies of fashion. Mr. Smee has forgotten where Russell Square is now, but he was glad enough to visit it in the year 1818, when Miss Osborne had instruction from him. Smee (formerly a pupil of Sharpe of Frith Street, a dissolute, irregular, and unsuccessful man, but a man with great knowledge of his art) being the cousin of Miss Wirt, we say, and introduced by her to Miss Osborne, whose hand and heart were still free after various incomplete love affairs, felt a great attachment for this lady, and it is believed inspired one in her bosom. Miss Wirt was the confidante of this intrigue. I know not whether she used to leave the room where the master and his pupil were painting, in order to give them an opportunity for exchanging those vows and sentiments which cannot be uttered advantageously in the presence of a third party; I know not whether she hoped that should her cousin succeed in carrying off the rich merchant's daughter, he would give Miss Wirt a portion of the wealth which she had enabled him to win-- all that is certain is that Mr. Osborne got some hint of the transaction, came back from the City abruptly, and entered the drawing-room with his bamboo cane; found the painter, the pupil, and the companion all looking exceedingly pale there; turned the former out of doors with menaces that he would break every bone in his skin, and half an hour afterwards dismissed Miss Wirt likewise, kicking her trunks down the stairs, trampling on her bandboxes, and shaking his fist at her hackney coach as it bore her away. Jane Osborne kept her bedroom for many days. She was not allowed to have a companion afterwards. Her father swore to her that she should not have a shilling of his money if she made any match without his concurrence; and as he wanted a woman to keep his house, he did not choose that she should marry, so that she was obliged to give up all projects with which Cupid had any share. During her papa's life, then, she resigned herself to the manner of existence here described, and was content to be an old maid. Her sister, meanwhile, was having children with finer names every year and the intercourse between the two grew fainter continually. "Jane and I do not move in the same sphere of life," Mrs. Bullock said. "I regard her as a sister, of course"--which means--what does it mean when a lady says that she regards Jane as a sister? It has been described how the Misses Dobbin lived with their father at a fine villa at Denmark Hill, where there were beautiful graperies and peach-trees which delighted little Georgy Osborne. The Misses Dobbin, who drove often to Brompton to see our dear Amelia, came sometimes to Russell Square too, to pay a visit to their old acquaintance Miss Osborne. I believe it was in consequence of the commands of their brother the Major in India (for whom their papa had a prodigious respect), that they paid attention to Mrs. George; for the Major, the godfather and guardian of Amelia's little boy, still hoped that the child's grandfather might be induced to relent towards him and acknowledge him for the sake of his son. The Misses Dobbin kept Miss Osborne acquainted with the state of Amelia's affairs; how she was living with her father and mother; how poor they were; how they wondered what men, and such men as their brother and dear Captain Osborne, could find in such an insignificant little chit; how she was still, as heretofore, a namby-pamby milk-and-water affected creature--but how the boy was really the noblest little boy ever seen--for the hearts of all women warm towards young children, and the sourest spinster is kind to them. One day, after great entreaties on the part of the Misses Dobbin, Amelia allowed little George to go and pass a day with them at Denmark Hill--a part of which day she spent herself in writing to the Major in India. She congratulated him on the happy news which his sisters had just conveyed to her. She prayed for his prosperity and that of the bride he had chosen. She thanked him for a thousand thousand kind offices and proofs of stead fast friendship to her in her affliction. She told him the last news about little Georgy, and how he was gone to spend that very day with his sisters in the country. She underlined the letter a great deal, and she signed herself affectionately his friend, Amelia Osborne. She forgot to send any message of kindness to Lady O'Dowd, as her wont was--and did not mention Glorvina by name, and only in italics, as the Major's BRIDE, for whom she begged blessings. But the news of the marriage removed the reserve which she had kept up towards him. She was glad to be able to own and feel how warmly and gratefully she regarded him--and as for the idea of being jealous of Glorvina (Glorvina, indeed!), Amelia would have scouted it, if an angel from heaven had hinted it to her. That night, when Georgy came back in the pony-carriage in which he rejoiced, and in which he was driven by Sir Wm. Dobbin's old coachman, he had round his neck a fine gold chain and watch. He said an old lady, not pretty, had given it him, who cried and kissed him a great deal. But he didn't like her. He liked grapes very much. And he only liked his mamma. Amelia shrank and started; the timid soul felt a presentiment of terror when she heard that the relations of the child's father had seen him. Miss Osborne came back to give her father his dinner. He had made a good speculation in the City, and was rather in a good humour that day, and chanced to remark the agitation under which she laboured. "What's the matter, Miss Osborne?" he deigned to say. The woman burst into tears. "Oh, sir," she said, "I've seen little George. He is as beautiful as an angel--and so like him!" The old man opposite to her did not say a word, but flushed up and began to tremble in every limb. 第 四 十 二 章    关于奥斯本一家     我们跟那位有体面的朋友,就是住在勒塞尔广场的奥斯本老先生,已经好久不见面了.自从他和我们告别之后,日子过得不很快活.讲到他近年的遭遇,不遂心的着实不少,哪儿能把他的坏脾气改好呢?在老头儿看来,什么事都得由着他的性儿办才叫合理,因此遭了拂逆分外难过.他现在上了年纪,害着痛风,况且心上又闷,不如意的事情又多,不消说精力大大不如从前,别人违拗了他,加倍使他生气.儿子去世以后不久,他那一头又硬又黑的头发就花白起来,脸色却越变越红;他每天喝葡萄酒,斟酒的时候手抖得厉害,一天比一天不行.在市中心,他的书记们给他逼得走投无路,在家里,上上下下的人也一样倒楣.我们方才看见利蓓加在诚诚心心的祷告,希望有些统一公债,如果把奥斯本的资财给她,不知道她肯不肯放弃自己将来可能有的机会和她过的那种无忧无惧.新鲜有趣的生活,也像老头儿一样成年累月的给笼罩在愁云惨雾里过日子?奥斯本曾经向施瓦滋小姐求婚,和小姐一气的人很轻蔑的拒绝了他,把她嫁给一个年轻小子,是个苏格兰贵族.照他的性格,最好娶个出身低微的女人,狠狠的欺负她,可是又没有挑得中的人,只好在家虐待没出嫁的女儿.奥斯本小姐有一辆漂亮的马车,好几匹漂亮的马儿拉着,请客的时候她坐的是主妇的位子,整桌子的碗盏器皿全是最上等的货色.她有私人的支票本子;出去散步的时候有气宇轩昂的听差伺候着;做买卖的都哈着腰奉承她,愿意让她无穷尽的赊账.所有女财主应有的排场,她都有了,可是她过得真苦恼.慈幼院里的小孤女,十字路口扫街的女孩子,下房里最苦的洗碗小丫头,跟这个可怜的.年过青春的女人一比,就算好福气了.     赫尔格和白洛克父子合营银行的弗莱特立克.白洛克先生娶了玛丽亚.奥斯本,不过结婚之前白洛克先生很不满意,而且多方刁难.他说乔治已经死了,况且老头儿的遗嘱上本来说开没有他的份,所以老的应该拿出一半财产给玛丽亚做嫁妆,如果不依他的条件,用他自己的话,"他就不干了!"这样,拖了好久不能成亲.奥斯本说弗莱特早已答应只要二万镑就娶他的女儿,他当然没有义务多出.他说:"弗莱特如果要呢,就娶了去,如果不要呢,就滚他的蛋!"弗莱特在奥斯本驱逐乔治的时候就存了极大的希望,如今觉得这做买卖的老头儿真不要脸,哄他上当,有一个时期竟表示准备解约.奥斯本把他的钱从赫尔格和白洛克的银行里拿出来,并且在出入交易所的时候随身带着一根马鞭子,赌神罚誓的说他如果遇见某某混蛋(名字不必提),打算揍他一顿.他像平常一样,气势汹汹的说了许多失身份的骂人的话.两家结冤的时候,吉恩.奥斯本安慰妹妹玛丽亚说:"玛丽亚,我早告诉你的,他爱的是你的钱,不是你本人."     玛丽亚扬着脸儿答道:"不管怎样,他挑中了我和我的钱,没挑你跟你的钱."     婚事的破裂只是暂时的.弗莱特的父亲和行里的大股东都劝他不管怎么还是娶了玛丽亚,二万镑嫁妆一半现付,一半到奥斯本先生死后照给,也许到后来其余没分开的财产还能有份呢.弗莱特没法,说他只能"马马虎虎算数",请了赫尔格老先生出来向奥斯本求和.他说都是他父亲不赞成这头亲事,种种为难,他自己是一向竭力要保持婚约的.奥斯本先生勉强跟他讲了和.赫尔格和白洛克都是商界的豪门,而且和伦敦西城的贵人们又都是亲戚.老头儿若能说:"我女婿是赫尔格和白洛克合营银行的股东.卡色莫尔迪伯爵的小姐玛丽.孟哥夫人是我女儿的表亲",也是很得意的事.在他想像之中,他的家里已经坐满了贵人.所以他饶了白洛克,同意把女儿嫁给他.     结婚的时候那排场阔的了不得.仪式是在汉诺佛广场圣乔治教堂举行的,男家人都住在这一带,因此婚后的一席早饭由他们预备.伦敦西城的贵人都请来了,有好些还在签字本上留了名字.孟哥先生和玛丽.孟哥夫人都到了,亲爱的桂多玲.孟哥小姐和桂尼佛.孟哥小姐做女傧相.客人中还有禁卫军中的白勒迪叶上校,他是明新街白勒迪叶兄弟公司大股东的长子,和新郎有亲戚关系,带着白勒迪叶太太一起光临.此外还有莱文脱勋爵的儿子乔治.卜尔脱少爷和他夫人(她娘家姓孟哥),卡色托第子爵,詹姆士.墨默尔先生和墨默尔太太(原姓施瓦滋),以及一大群上流社会里的人物......这些人下嫁到朗白街来,使康恩山沾了好些贵族气味.     年轻夫妇在巴克莱广场有一所公馆.罗汉浦顿一带都是银行家的住宅,他们在那里也有一所小别墅.弗莱特家里的姊妹认为他攀这门亲真是压低了门楣.她们自己的祖父原是义务学堂里读出来的,可是她们嫁得好,男家的亲戚有些是英国最旧的世家.玛丽亚出身低微,要补救这个缺陷,只好格外骄傲,交朋友的时候也格外小心,她那访客本子里的名字都是挑了又挑才决定的.她觉得责任所在,总得竭力和父亲姊姊少见面才好.     老头儿手上还有几千几万镑的家私可以传给小辈,玛丽亚当然不会和他断绝来往;弗莱特.白洛克决不准她这么胡闹的.不过她年纪到底还轻,没有涵养,请父亲和姐姐的时候只用第三流的酒席,对他们冷冷淡淡,自己不但不到勒塞尔广场去,而且说话很不小心,竟对父亲批评那地段俗气可厌,劝他搬家.弗莱特立克的手段虽然圆滑,也不能把她闯的祸补救过来.照她这样糊涂冒失,承受遗产的机会是保不住的.     老先生和大女儿有一晚在弗莱特立克.白洛克太太家里吃过晚饭坐着车子回家,砰砰碰碰的把窗门关上,说道:"哦,原来玛丽亚太太瞧不起勒塞尔广场.原来她请自己的父亲和姐姐吃隔夜的酒菜.今天吃的小食儿,她叫什么'插碟,的东西,准是她昨天请客剩下的,我难道看不出来吗?哼!她把勋爵命妇和有头衔的老爷留着自己受用,倒叫我和买卖经纪人跟摇笔杆儿的坐在一起.有头衔的老爷又值什么屁?我是个老老实实做买卖的英国人.把这些穷狗一只只买下来也不算什么.勋爵,哼哼!那回她晚上请客,我亲眼看见一个勋爵在跟弹弦子的说话.这种弹弦子的我倒还瞧不起呢.哦,原来他们不愿意上勒塞尔广场来.我把性命跟你打赌,我的酒比他们的好,我买酒花的钱比他们多,我的银器也比他们的漂亮,我饭桌上的菜蔬,也比他们的讲究.这起鬼鬼祟祟的东西专会拍马屁,全是自以为了不起的浑虫!詹姆士,快些,我要回到勒塞尔广场去呢!哈哈!"他恶笑了一声,往后一靠,在车子里坐下来.这老头儿惯会这样自称自赞,借此安慰自己.     吉恩.奥斯本见妹妹这样的行为,当然赞成父亲的话.弗莱特立克太太的第一个孩子,弗莱特立克.奥古斯多.霍华特.斯丹恩莱.德芙瑞.白洛克出世的时候,那边请奥斯本参加命名典礼,而且要他做外孙的教父.他拒绝参加典礼,只送了一只金杯给孩子,里面搁了二十个金基尼,说是送给奶妈的."我保证,我送的礼比他们的勋爵送的东西值钱得多."他说.     外公送的礼实在丰厚,因此白洛克家里都很满意.玛丽亚以为父亲很喜欢她,弗莱特立克为自己的大儿子觉得乐观.     奥斯本小姐冷冷清清的住在勒塞尔广场.她在《晨报》上"时髦集会"的标题下面不时看见妹妹的名字;还有一次报上提到福莱特丽嘉.白洛克夫人带领弗.白洛克太太进宫,并且描写白洛克太太穿的是什么衣服.奥斯本小姐读到这些新闻时心里的苦痛是不难想像的.我已经说过,吉恩自己轮不到过这样豪华的生活.她真是可怜;冬天早上天还没亮,就得起身给她那怒目横眉的父亲预备早饭.如果到八点半还没有把早点送进去的话,老头儿管把屋里的人都给赶到外面去.她哑默悄静的坐在父亲对面,听着炖在火上的茶壶咝咝的响.老头儿一面看报,一面吃油饼喝茶,分量每天一样,做女儿的战战兢兢的伺候着.到九点半他站起身来到市中心去;从那时直到吃晚饭,都是她自己的时候,随她处置.有时她到厨房巡察一下,骂骂佣人;有时坐车出去买买东西;所有做买卖的都对她恭敬得了不得.有时她特地绕到生意界朋友们又沉闷又体面的大房子那里,把父亲的名片和自己的名片叫门房递进去,有时她独自一个坐在大客厅等待客人来拜访.她时常坐在火旁的安乐椅上拿了一块毛绒刺绣品绣着花;伊菲吉妮亚大钟就在旁边,在这阴气森森的房间里,它滴答滴答地走着,当当地敲着,声音显得特别大,也特别凄惨.火炉架子上面的大镜子,正对着屋子那一头有镂花托柱的大镜子,这两面镜子面对面的,把屋子中央套着棕色麻布袋的大灯台的影子反复增加,到后来只看见一连串的麻布袋儿无穷尽的向两边伸展开去,又仿佛两头都有许多类似的客厅,奥斯本小姐坐着的一间便是中心.有时她拿掉大钢琴上的软皮罩子,在琴上按几个音,琴声中也像带着一股哀怨,在屋子里激起凄凉的回声.乔治的肖像早已拿掉,堆到阁楼上的杂物间里去了.他的印象仍旧留在父亲和姐姐心里;父女两个往往本能地感觉到对方在思念这勇敢的.从前备受宠爱的乔治,可是大家都不提他的名字.     下午五点钟,奥斯本先生回家吃晚饭.吃饭的时候,他和女儿向来不说话,除非厨子做的菜不合他的胃口,他生了气,便大声咒骂.他们每月请两回客,来的客人全无意趣,年龄和地位都和奥斯本本人相仿,像住在白鲁姆斯白莱广场的葛尔浦老医生夫妻,住在贝德福街的律师福拉乌泽老先生(他是个了不起的人物,由于职业关系,和伦敦西城的贵人来往很密),从前在孟买军队里的李佛莫老上校夫妻,住在上贝德福广场,还有老军曹托非夫妇.有时住在贝德福街的汤姆士.考芬爵士和考芬爵士夫人也来.汤姆士爵士是有名的绘画审查员,每逢他来吃饭,奥斯本先生必定另外开一瓶黄褐色的好葡萄酒请他喝.     每逢这些人回请勒塞尔广场爱体面的大老板,那排场也差不多.他们吃过饭喝过酒以后,到楼上板着正经脸儿斗牌,到十点半坐车回家.有好些我们穷鬼瞧着眼红的有钱人过的就是这种日子,而且过得很满意.吉恩.奥斯本难得遇见六十岁以下的人;他们圈子里唯一的单身汉子,大概只有著名的妇科医生思默克先生一个人.     如果说吉恩的苦闷日子里从来没有过波澜,那也太过分.原来可怜的吉恩也有一个秘密.她父亲为人暴戾凶狠,一则他天性如此,二则他自以为了不得,三则他吃喝太没有节制;这件事一出来,激得他的脾气越来越坏.这秘密和乌德小姐有些关系.她有一个表弟叫思米先生,现在已经成了有名的肖像画家,而且是皇家艺术学院的院士,从前落薄的时候,全靠收几个有钱女学生教图画来维持生活.思米先生如今连勒塞尔广场坐落在哪里都不记得了,可是在一八一八年,他就了奥斯本小姐的馆,倒是很巴结的.     思米本来是弗里施街夏泼画师的学生.夏泼半生落拓,自己做人又荒唐没有品行,可是在艺术上的造诣倒不算低.我方才说到思米是乌德小姐的表弟,由她介绍给奥斯本小姐.奥斯本小姐虽然也恋爱过几次,可是每次都落空,所以身心还没有得到归宿;画师对于她十分有情,据别人推测,小姐也不是无意.两人兜搭起来,乌德小姐便做了拉�璧�.想来他们师徒两人画画的时候她便回避了,好让他们两人山盟海誓,谈些当着第三个人不好出口的情话儿.说不定她希望帮着表弟把大老板的女儿弄到手,表弟得了好处,自己托赖着也能分肥.总而言之,奥斯本风闻这件事,有一次突然从市中心回来,拿着一根竹子拐棍儿直闯到客厅里.他看见画家.学生和女伴都吓得脸如土色,立刻叫那画家滚蛋,一面恐吓他说要把他身上一根根骨头都打断.半小时之后,他辞退了乌德小姐,把她的箱子一脚踢到楼下,把她的纸盒子踩得稀烂,眼看她雇了车子动身的时候还恶狠狠的握着拳头.     吉恩.奥斯本躲在卧房里好几天没露脸.从此以后,父亲不准她雇女伴了.他赌神罚誓的说,如果她不得父亲的许可私自找丈夫,以后一文钱也不给她.他自己需要一个女人替他当家,因此不想把她出嫁.她不得不放弃一切和恋爱结婚有关系的打算;只要她爸爸在一日,她就只能过这种日子,没奈何只好做个老姑娘.她妹妹每年添孩子,名字越起越漂亮.到后来两家一天比一天疏远.白洛克太太说:"吉恩和我环境不同.当然,我还是把她当作姐姐那样待"......她的意思是......这么一位有地位的少奶奶说她把吉恩当作姐姐那样待,究竟是什么意思呢?     上面已经说过,两位都宾小姐和他们的父亲住在丹麦山一宅漂亮的别墅里,他们自己有葡萄园和桃树,都是小乔杰.奥斯本最喜欢的.都宾小姐们常常到白朗浦顿去看望亲爱的爱米丽亚,有时也到勒塞尔广场去瞧瞧老朋友奥斯本小姐.我想她们肯和爱米丽亚来往,无非是驻在印度的都宾少佐的主意(她们的爸爸对儿子非常尊敬).少佐是爱米丽亚儿子的教父和保护人,他仍旧希望孩子的祖父会回心转意,看儿子面上正式承认他.两位都宾小姐时常把爱米丽亚的近况报告给奥斯本小姐听,说起她怎么和父母同住,怎么穷苦等等.在她们看来,爱米丽亚当年不过是个全无意趣的小东西,不懂男人们......甚至于像亲爱的奥斯本上尉和她们兄弟那样的男人......看着她哪一点好?她们说她至今还是装腔作势,多愁善感,简直乏味透了,可是孩子倒真是少有的漂亮.所有的女人都喜欢孩子,哪怕是最尖酸的老姑娘,对待小孩总还有些好心.     有一天,都宾小姐苦苦恳求的结果,爱米丽亚允许小乔治到丹麦山玩一整天,就在这天,她抽出一部分功夫来写信给驻扎在印度的少佐.她谈起他姊妹们报告的好消息,说要跟他道喜.她祈祷上帝保佑他和新夫人将来一帆风顺.她深深的向少佐道谢,说他在患难之中忠诚不变,千万次帮她的忙.她报告小乔杰的近况,并且说那天他到郊外他姊妹那里去了.为加重语气起见,她在句子底下画了许多道儿,并且签名自称"你亲爱的朋友爱米丽亚.奥斯本".平时她每逢写信,总要附笔跟奥多太太问好,可是这一回却忘记了.葛萝薇娜的名字,她也不提,只用斜体字写着"你的新娘"等字样,并且说自己祷告上天保佑她.都宾结婚的消息打消了她对他的戒心.现在她能够在心上口上承认自己对他多么感激,多么关切,觉得很高兴.至于讲到妒忌葛萝薇娜的话(葛萝薇娜,哼!),即使天上的神仙对她这么说,她也会责备他荒谬.     那天晚上,乔杰坐着他心爱的小马车回家,威廉爵士的老车夫给他赶着车子.他脖子上戴着金链子,底下挂着一个金表.他说有个老太太,长得不好看,送给他这份礼.老太太老是哭,老是吻他.可是他不喜欢她.他很喜欢葡萄.他只爱妈妈.爱米丽亚听了这话,怔怔的往后一缩.这胆小的女人听说孩子父亲家里的人看见了他,心里一阵恐慌,仿佛这是个不吉利的预兆.     奥斯本小姐回家给父亲预备晚饭.那天他在市中心刚做了一笔很顺利的投机买卖,脾气很好,无意中发现女儿神色紧张,居然开口问道:"奥斯本小姐,出了什么事了?"     那女人失声哭道:"唉,爹爹,我今儿看见小乔治的.他,漂亮得像个天使,跟他真像!"坐在对面的老头儿一言不发,可是他脸上涨得通红,四肢索索的发起抖来.

CHAPTER XLIII In Which the Reader Has to Double the Cape The astonished reader must be called upon to transport himself ten thousand miles to the military station of Bundlegunge, in the Madras division of our Indian empire, where our gallant old friends of the --th regiment are quartered under the command of the brave Colonel, Sir Michael O'Dowd. Time has dealt kindly with that stout officer, as it does ordinarily with men who have good stomachs and good tempers and are not perplexed over much by fatigue of the brain. The Colonel plays a good knife and fork at tiffin and resumes those weapons with great success at dinner. He smokes his hookah after both meals and puffs as quietly while his wife scolds him as he did under the fire of the French at Waterloo. Age and heat have not diminished the activity or the eloquence of the descendant of the Malonys and the Molloys. Her Ladyship, our old acquaintance, is as much at home at Madras as at Brussels in the cantonment as under the tents. On the march you saw her at the head of the regiment seated on a royal elephant, a noble sight. Mounted on that beast, she has been into action with tigers in the jungle, she has been received by native princes, who have welcomed her and Glorvina into the recesses of their zenanas and offered her shawls and jewels which it went to her heart to refuse. The sentries of all arms salute her wherever she makes her appearance, and she touches her hat gravely to their salutation. Lady O'Dowd is one of the greatest ladies in the Presidency of Madras--her quarrel with Lady Smith, wife of Sir Minos Smith the puisne judge, is still remembered by some at Madras, when the Colonel's lady snapped her fingers in the Judge's lady's face and said SHE'D never walk behind ever a beggarly civilian. Even now, though it is five-and-twenty years ago, people remember Lady O'Dowd performing a jig at Government House, where she danced down two Aides-de-Camp, a Major of Madras cavalry, and two gentlemen of the Civil Service; and, persuaded by Major Dobbin, C.B., second in command of the --th, to retire to the supper-room, lassata nondum satiata recessit. Peggy O'Dowd is indeed the same as ever, kind in act and thought; impetuous in temper; eager to command; a tyrant over her Michael; a dragon amongst all the ladies of the regiment; a mother to all the young men, whom she tends in their sickness, defends in all their scrapes, and with whom Lady Peggy is immensely popular. But the Subalterns' and Captains' ladies (the Major is unmarried) cabal against her a good deal. They say that Glorvina gives herself airs and that Peggy herself is ill tolerably domineering. She interfered with a little congregation which Mrs. Kirk had got up and laughed the young men away from her sermons, stating that a soldier's wife had no business to be a parson--that Mrs. Kirk would be much better mending her husband's clothes; and, if the regiment wanted sermons, that she had the finest in the world, those of her uncle, the Dean. She abruptly put a termination to a flirtation which Lieutenant Stubble of the regiment had commenced with the Surgeon's wife, threatening to come down upon Stubble for the money which he had borrowed from her (for the young fellow was still of an extravagant turn) unless he broke off at once and went to the Cape on sick leave. On the other hand, she housed and sheltered Mrs. Posky, who fled from her bungalow one night, pursued by her infuriate husband, wielding his second brandy bottle, and actually carried Posky through the delirium tremens and broke him of the habit of drinking, which had grown upon that officer, as all evil habits will grow upon men. In a word, in adversity she was the best of comforters, in good fortune the most troublesome of friends, having a perfectly good opinion of herself always and an indomitable resolution to have her own way. Among other points, she had made up her mind that Glorvina should marry our old friend Dobbin. Mrs. O'Dowd knew the Major's expectations and appreciated his good qualities and the high character which he enjoyed in his profession. Glorvina, a very handsome, fresh-coloured, black-haired, blue-eyed young lady, who could ride a horse, or play a sonata with any girl out of the County Cork, seemed to be the very person destined to insure Dobbin's happiness--much more than that poor good little weak-spur'ted Amelia, about whom he used to take on so.--"Look at Glorvina enter a room," Mrs. O'Dowd would say, "and compare her with that poor Mrs. Osborne, who couldn't say boo to a goose. She'd be worthy of you, Major--you're a quiet man yourself, and want some one to talk for ye. And though she does not come of such good blood as the Malonys or Molloys, let me tell ye, she's of an ancient family that any nobleman might be proud to marry into." But before she had come to such a resolution and determined to subjugate Major Dobbin by her endearments, it must be owned that Glorvina had practised them a good deal elsewhere. She had had a season in Dublin, and who knows how many in Cork, Killarney, and Mallow? She had flirted with all the marriageable officers whom the depots of her country afforded, and all the bachelor squires who seemed eligible. She had been engaged to be married a half-score times in Ireland, besides the clergyman at Bath who used her so ill. She had flirted all the way to Madras with the Captain and chief mate of the Ramchunder East Indiaman, and had a season at the Presidency with her brother and Mrs. O'Dowd, who was staying there, while the Major of the regiment was in command at the station. Everybody admired her there; everybody danced with her; but no one proposed who was worth the marrying--one or two exceedingly young subalterns sighed after her, and a beardless civilian or two, but she rejected these as beneath her pretensions--and other and younger virgins than Glorvina were married before her. There are women, and handsome women too, who have this fortune in life. They fall in love with the utmost generosity; they ride and walk with half the Army-list, though they draw near to forty, and yet the Misses O'Grady are the Misses O'Grady still: Glorvina persisted that but for Lady O'Dowd's unlucky quarrel with the Judge's lady, she would have made a good match at Madras, where old Mr. Chutney, who was at the head of the civil service (and who afterwards married Miss Dolby, a young lady only thirteen years of age who had just arrived from school in Europe), was just at the point of proposing to her. Well, although Lady O'Dowd and Glorvina quarrelled a great number of times every day, and upon almost every conceivable subject--indeed, if Mick O'Dowd had not possessed the temper of an angel two such women constantly about his ears would have driven him out of his senses--yet they agreed between themselves on this point, that Glorvina should marry Major Dobbin, and were determined that the Major should have no rest until the arrangement was brought about. Undismayed by forty or fifty previous defeats, Glorvina laid siege to him. She sang Irish melodies at him unceasingly. She asked him so frequently and pathetically, Will ye come to the bower? that it is a wonder how any man of feeling could have resisted the invitation. She was never tired of inquiring, if Sorrow had his young days faded, and was ready to listen and weep like Desdemona at the stories of his dangers and his campaigns. It has been said that our honest and dear old friend used to perform on the flute in private; Glorvina insisted upon having duets with him, and Lady O'Dowd would rise and artlessly quit the room when the young couple were so engaged. Glorvina forced the Major to ride with her of mornings. The whole cantonment saw them set out and return. She was constantly writing notes over to him at his house, borrowing his books, and scoring with her great pencil-marks such passages of sentiment or humour as awakened her sympathy. She borrowed his horses, his servants, his spoons, and palanquin--no wonder that public rumour assigned her to him, and that the Major's sisters in England should fancy they were about to have a sister-in-law. Dobbin, who was thus vigorously besieged, was in the meanwhile in a state of the most odious tranquillity. He used to laugh when the young fellows of the regiment joked him about Glorvina's manifest attentions to him. "Bah!" said he, "she is only keeping her hand in-- she practises upon me as she does upon Mrs. Tozer's piano, because it's the most handy instrument in the station. I am much too battered and old for such a fine young lady as Glorvina." And so he went on riding with her, and copying music and verses into her albums, and playing at chess with her very submissively; for it is with these simple amusements that some officers in India are accustomed to while away their leisure moments, while others of a less domestic turn hunt hogs, and shoot snipes, or gamble and smoke cheroots, and betake themselves to brandy-and-water. As for Sir Michael O'Dowd, though his lady and her sister both urged him to call upon the Major to explain himself and not keep on torturing a poor innocent girl in that shameful way, the old soldier refused point-blank to have anything to do with the conspiracy. "Faith, the Major's big enough to choose for himself," Sir Michael said; "he'll ask ye when he wants ye"; or else he would turn the matter off jocularly, declaring that "Dobbin was too young to keep house, and had written home to ask lave of his mamma." Nay, he went farther, and in private communications with his Major would caution and rally him, crying, "Mind your oi, Dob, my boy, them girls is bent on mischief--me Lady has just got a box of gowns from Europe, and there's a pink satin for Glorvina, which will finish ye, Dob, if it's in the power of woman or satin to move ye." But the truth is, neither beauty nor fashion could conquer him. Our honest friend had but one idea of a woman in his head, and that one did not in the least resemble Miss Glorvina O'Dowd in pink satin. A gentle little woman in black, with large eyes and brown hair, seldom speaking, save when spoken to, and then in a voice not the least resembling Miss Glorvina's--a soft young mother tending an infant and beckoning the Major up with a smile to look at him--a rosy- cheeked lass coming singing into the room in Russell Square or hanging on George Osborne's arm, happy and loving--there was but this image that filled our honest Major's mind, by day and by night, and reigned over it always. Very likely Amelia was not like the portrait the Major had formed of her: there was a figure in a book of fashions which his sisters had in England, and with which William had made away privately, pasting it into the lid of his desk, and fancying he saw some resemblance to Mrs. Osborne in the print, whereas I have seen it, and can vouch that it is but the picture of a high-waisted gown with an impossible doll's face simpering over it--and, perhaps, Mr. Dobbin's sentimental Amelia was no more like the real one than this absurd little print which he cherished. But what man in love, of us, is better informed?--or is he much happier when he sees and owns his delusion? Dobbin was under this spell. He did not bother his friends and the public much about his feelings, or indeed lose his natural rest or appetite on account of them. His head has grizzled since we saw him last, and a line or two of silver may be seen in the soft brown hair likewise. But his feelings are not in the least changed or oldened, and his love remains as fresh as a man's recollections of boyhood are. We have said how the two Misses Dobbin and Amelia, the Major's correspondents in Europe, wrote him letters from England, Mrs. Osborne congratulating him with great candour and cordiality upon his approaching nuptials with Miss O'Dowd. "Your sister has just kindly visited me," Amelia wrote in her letter, "and informed me of an INTERESTING EVENT, upon which I beg to offer my MOST SINCERE CONGRATULATIONS. I hope the young lady to whom I hear you are to be UNITED will in every respect prove worthy of one who is himself all kindness and goodness. The poor widow has only her prayers to offer and her cordial cordial wishes for YOUR PROSPERITY! Georgy sends his love to HIS DEAR GODPAPA and hopes that you will not forget him. I tell him that you are about to form OTHER TIES, with one who I am sure merits ALL YOUR AFFECTION, but that, although such ties must of course be the strongest and most sacred, and supersede ALL OTHERS, yet that I am sure the widow and the child whom you have ever protected and loved will always HAVE A CORNER IN YOUR HEART" The letter, which has been before alluded to, went on in this strain, protesting throughout as to the extreme satisfaction of the writer. This letter, .which arrived by the very same ship which brought out Lady O'Dowd's box of millinery from London (and which you may be sure Dobbin opened before any one of the other packets which the mail brought him), put the receiver into such a state of mind that Glorvina, and her pink satin, and everything belonging to her became perfectly odious to him. The Major cursed the talk of women, and the sex in general. Everything annoyed him that day--the parade was insufferably hot and wearisome. Good heavens! was a man of intellect to waste his life, day after day, inspecting cross-belts and putting fools through their manoeuvres? The senseless chatter of the young men at mess was more than ever jarring. What cared he, a man on the high road to forty, to know how many snipes Lieutenant Smith had shot, or what were the performances of Ensign Brown's mare? The jokes about the table filled him with shame. He was too old to listen to the banter of the assistant surgeon and the slang of the youngsters, at which old O'Dowd, with his bald head and red face, laughed quite easily. The old man had listened to those jokes any time these thirty years--Dobbin himself had been fifteen years hearing them. And after the boisterous dulness of the mess-table, the quarrels and scandal of the ladies of the regiment! It was unbearable, shameful. "O Amelia, Amelia," he thought, "you to whom I have been so faithful--you reproach me! It is because you cannot feel for me that I drag on this wearisome life. And you reward me after years of devotion by giving me your blessing upon my marriage, forsooth, with this flaunting Irish girl!" Sick and sorry felt poor William; more than ever wretched and lonely. He would like to have done with life and its vanity altogether--so bootless and unsatisfactory the struggle, so cheerless and dreary the prospect seemed to him. He lay all that night sleepless, and yearning to go home. Amelia's letter had fallen as a blank upon him. No fidelity, no constant truth and passion, could move her into warmth. She would not see that he loved her. Tossing in his bed, he spoke out to her. "Good God, Amelia!" he said, "don't you know that I only love you in the world--you, who are a stone to me--you, whom I tended through months and months of illness and grief, and who bade me farewell with a smile on your face, and forgot me before the door shut between us!" The native servants lying outside his verandas beheld with wonder the Major, so cold and quiet ordinarily, at present so passionately moved and cast down. Would she have pitied him had she seen him? He read over and over all the letters which he ever had from her--letters of business relative to the little property which he had made her believe her husband had left to her-- brief notes of invitation--every scrap of writing that she had ever sent to him--how cold, how kind, how hopeless, how selfish they were! Had there been some kind gentle soul near at hand who could read and appreciate this silent generous heart, who knows but that the reign of Amelia might have been over, and that friend William's love might have flowed into a kinder channel? But there was only Glorvina of the jetty ringlets with whom his intercourse was familiar, and this dashing young woman was not bent upon loving the Major, but rather on making the Major admire HER--a most vain and hopeless task, too, at least considering the means that the poor girl possessed to carry it out. She curled her hair and showed her shoulders at him, as much as to say, did ye ever see such jet ringlets and such a complexion? She grinned at him so that he might see that every tooth in her head was sound--and he never heeded all these charms. Very soon after the arrival of the box of millinery, and perhaps indeed in honour of it, Lady O'Dowd and the ladies of the King's Regiment gave a ball to the Company's Regiments and the civilians at the station. Glorvina sported the killing pink frock, and the Major, who attended the party and walked very ruefully up and down the rooms, never so much as perceived the pink garment. Glorvina danced past him in a fury with all the young subalterns of the station, and the Major was not in the least jealous of her performance, or angry because Captain Bangles of the Cavalry handed her to supper. It was not jealousy, or frocks, or shoulders that could move him, and Glorvina had nothing more. So these two were each exemplifying the Vanity of this life, and each longing for what he or she could not get. Glorvina cried with rage at the failure. She had set her mind on the Major "more than on any of the others," she owned, sobbing. "He'll break my heart, he will, Peggy," she would whimper to her sister-in-law when they were good friends; "sure every one of me frocks must be taken in-- it's such a skeleton I'm growing." Fat or thin, laughing or melancholy, on horseback or the music-stool, it was all the same to the Major. And the Colonel, puffing his pipe and listening to these complaints, would suggest that Glory should have some black frocks out in the next box from London, and told a mysterious story of a lady in Ireland who died of grief for the loss of her husband before she got ere a one. While the Major was going on in this tantalizing way, not proposing, and declining to fall in love, there came another ship from Europe bringing letters on board, and amongst them some more for the heartless man. These were home letters bearing an earlier postmark than that of the former packets, and as Major Dobbin recognized among his the handwriting of his sister, who always crossed and recrossed her letters to her brother--gathered together all the possible bad news which she could collect, abused him and read him lectures with sisterly frankness, and always left him miserable for the day after "dearest William" had achieved the perusal of one of her epistles--the truth must be told that dearest William did not hurry himself to break the seal of Miss Dobbin's letter, but waited for a particularly favourable day and mood for doing so. A fortnight before, moreover, he had written to scold her for telling those absurd stories to Mrs. Osborne, and had despatched a letter in reply to that lady, undeceiving her with respect to the reports concerning him and assuring her that "he had no sort of present intention of altering his condition." Two or three nights after the arrival of the second package of letters, the Major had passed the evening pretty cheerfully at Lady O'Dowd's house, where Glorvina thought that he listened with rather more attention than usual to the Meeting of the Wathers, the Minsthrel Boy, and one or two other specimens of song with which she favoured him (the truth is, he was no more listening to Glorvina than to the howling of the jackals in the moonlight outside, and the delusion was hers as usual), and having played his game at chess with her (cribbage with the surgeon was Lady O'Dowd's favourite evening pastime), Major Dobbin took leave of the Colonel's family at his usual hour and retired to his own house. There on his table, his sister's letter lay reproaching him. He took it up, ashamed rather of his negligence regarding it, and prepared himself for a disagreeable hour's communing with that crabbed-handed absent relative. . . . It may have been an hour after the Major's departure from the Colonel's house--Sir Michael was sleeping the sleep of the just; Glorvina had arranged her black ringlets in the innumerable little bits of paper, in which it was her habit to confine them; Lady O'Dowd, too, had gone to her bed in the nuptial chamber, on the ground-floor, and had tucked her musquito curtains round her fair form, when the guard at the gates of the Commanding-Officer's compound beheld Major Dobbin, in the moonlight, rushing towards the house with a swift step and a very agitated countenance, and he passed the sentinel and went up to the windows of the Colonel's bedchamber. "O'Dowd--Colonel!" said Dobbin and kept up a great shouting. "Heavens, Meejor!" said Glorvina of the curl-papers, putting out her head too, from her window. "What is it, Dob, me boy?" said the Colonel, expecting there was a fire in the station, or that the route had come from headquarters. "I--I must have leave of absence. I must go to England--on the most urgent private affairs," Dobbin said. "Good heavens, what has happened!" thought Glorvina, trembling with all the papillotes. "I want to be off--now--to-night," Dobbin continued; and the Colonel getting up, came out to parley with him. In the postscript of Miss Dobbin's cross-letter, the Major had just come upon a paragraph, to the following effect:--"I drove yesterday to see your old ACQUAINTANCE, Mrs. Osborne. The wretched place they live at, since they were bankrupts, you know--Mr. S., to judge from a BRASS PLATE on the door of his hut (it is little better) is a coal-merchant. The little boy, your godson, is certainly a fine child, though forward, and inclined to be saucy and self-willed. But we have taken notice of him as you wish it, and have introduced him to his aunt, Miss O., who was rather pleased with him. Perhaps his grandpapa, not the bankrupt one, who is almost doting, but Mr. Osborne, of Russell Square, may be induced to relent towards the child of your friend, HIS ERRING AND SELF-WILLED SON. And Amelia will not be ill-disposed to give him up. The widow is CONSOLED, and is about to marry a reverend gentleman, the Rev. Mr. Binny, one of the curates of Brompton. A poor match. But Mrs. O. is getting old, and I saw a great deal of grey in her hair--she was in very good spirits: and your little godson overate himself at our house. Mamma sends her love with that of your affectionate, Ann Dobbin." 第 四 十 三 章    请读者绕过好望角(当年苏伊士运河还没有开凿,好望角是到印度的必由之路.)     读者准会觉得吃惊,因为我现在要请他走一万里路,到我们的属地,印度的玛德拉斯行政区本特尔根奇驻地去走一趟.第......联队里勇猛的老朋友们都驻扎在这里,统领他们的仍旧是那果敢的上校麦格尔.奥多爵士.这位肥胖的军官像一切脾气温和.消化力强.而且不大用脑子的人一样,显得很年轻.中饭的时候他吃得很多,到晚饭的时候他吃得也不少.中饭晚饭以后他都抽水烟,尽他妻子在旁边聒噪,他只管一口口静静的抽.当年滑铁卢大战,他在法国人的炮火之下也是一样不动声色.至于玛洛内和莫洛哀的后裔呢,虽然她也上了年纪,当地天气又热,她倒还是跟以前一样轻健,一样爱说话.我们的老朋友奥多爵士夫人不管住在布鲁塞尔还是玛德拉斯,在兵营里还是在篷帐里,都觉得一样的舒坦.行军的时候她坐在大象背上,带头儿先走,军队在后面跟着,那样子真是威武得很.她曾经骑着那牲口到大树林里去打过老虎,还去觐见过当地的王族.王妃们把她和葛萝薇娜让到后宫,拿出披肩和珠宝送给她们,她虽然没有收下来,心里老大舍不得.营里谁都认识她,不管是佩哪一种军器的哨兵看见她都会对她致敬,她也正色举起手来,挨着帽子给他们还礼.玛德拉斯行政区里最了不起的太太就数奥多太太了.她和陪席审判官密诺思.斯密士爵士的太太吵过一次架.这件事在玛德拉斯至今有人记得.上校太太冲着法官太太摔手,说她再也不愿意走在低三下四的老百姓后面.有一回总督府开跳舞会,她大显身手,不停的跳快步舞,两个将军的副官,一个玛德拉斯骑兵营的少佐,两个民政厅的官员,和她对跳,都跳得精疲力尽.事隔二十五年,还有好些人记得她的成绩.最后还是第......联队的下级骑士都宾少佐(他在联队里的地位不过比奥多上校低一级)再三劝她去吃晚饭,才歇下来.她虽然疲乏,心里还嫌没有跳畅.     佩琪.奥多没有改变.她存心好,待人忠厚,可是脾气非常暴躁,最喜欢辖治人,对于她的麦格尔更是专制的了不得.联队里的太太们都怕她凶横,年轻小伙子却没有人不爱她,因为他们生了病她肯服侍,惹了祸她肯撑腰,对他们像母亲一般慈爱.上尉以下各军官的太太们(都宾少佐至今没有结婚)背地里结党反对她.她们说佩琪专横得叫人受不了;葛萝薇娜又爱摆架子.葛克太太收了几个信徒给他们讲道,奥多太太便出来干涉.小伙子们给她一嘲笑,都不肯去听葛克太太讲道了.她说军官的老婆不配做牧师,葛克太太应该在家补她丈夫的破衣服才对,倘若联队里的军士要听讲道,她尽可以把她那做副主教的叔叔写的讲稿读给他们听,这些训戒才算得上全世界第一.斯卜内中尉和联队里外科医生的妻子眉来眼去的兜搭,给她逼着叫两人一刀两段.她威吓斯卜内说,假如他不立刻改过,并且请病假到好望角去养病,她就要立逼他还出从前的债来(小伙子使钱散漫的脾气仍旧没有改).还有一次,波斯基太太半夜从他们住的平房里逃出来,她的丈夫手里举着一个白兰地酒瓶子(已是第二瓶了),怒冲冲的在后面追她.奥多太太收留了波斯基太太,甚至于治好了波斯基的酒癫病.染上坏习惯本来是很普通的事,这军官一不小心,喝酒竟上了瘾,全亏奥多太太帮他戒掉了.总而言之,她在急难之中最肯帮忙,平常过日子的时候却不容易和人相处,因为她自信心很强,最喜欢独断独行,别人再也拗不过她的.     不说别的,她竟打定主意要把葛萝薇娜嫁给我们的老朋友都宾.奥多太太知道都宾少佐前程远大,在本行里是很受敬重的,他的种种好处,她也十分赏识.葛萝薇娜长得很漂亮,黑头发蓝眼睛,脸色有红有白.她会骑马,也会弹奏鸣曲,在她家乡各克区里的女孩子谁也比不过她.照奥多太太看来,她刚好配得上都宾少佐,准能叫他称心满意.他从前不是一心恋着爱米丽亚吗?葛萝薇娜反正比那做事疲软的小可怜儿强得多.奥多太太常说:"你瞧瞧葛萝薇娜进门的时候那股子风度!把她跟苦命的奥斯本太太比一比,就显得出谁高谁低.奥斯本太太是一点儿能耐也没有的.少佐,葛萝薇娜配得过你.你自己不大开口,该有个人替你说说话才好.告诉你吧,她的家里虽然不像玛洛内和莫洛哀那么尊贵,也是有根基的,连贵族都抢着和他们家攀亲呢."     葛萝薇娜本人也愿意嫁给都宾,决定用柔情蜜意来牢笼他.说句老实话,在她碰见都宾以前,早已在别的地方把她的手段施展过许多回了.她在爱尔兰京城都柏林的应酬场中出入过一年,在葛拉内.各克.玛罗各地方到底交际了几年谁也闹不清楚.她对本国军队总部里所有没娶亲的军官,乡下绅士中所有可能合格的光棍儿,个个都送过秋波.单是在爱尔兰一国,她就订过十来次婚;在温泉辜负她的牧师还不算在里面.她乘拉姆轻特商船到玛德拉斯去的时候,一路和船长和大副眉来眼去.当时她哥哥嫂嫂住在行政区,联队里的少佐却在驻扎地统带军队.她住在哥嫂家里,又出来应酬了一年.当地人人夸奖她,人人跟她跳舞,可是开口求婚的人全够不上资格做丈夫.一两个年纪极轻的下级军官和一两个没长胡子的文官对她十分倾心,无奈她认为他们配不上她,一口回绝了.别的姑娘......有的比葛萝薇娜还年轻,都出嫁了,只有她还是独身.世界上有好些女人一般长得很好看,不知怎么生来是这样的命.像那几个奥格兰地小姐,成天闹恋爱,军队里的人倒有一半是朋友,不是跟这个出去散步便是跟那个出去骑马,可怜她们快到四十岁了,还是原来的奥格兰地小姐.葛萝薇娜说来说去,只怪奥多太太和法官的夫人吵架坏了事,否则她在玛德拉斯准能结一门好亲事.民政处的首脑吉德尼老先生那时正在打算向她求婚,吵架以后就另外娶了别的人;新娘是个十三岁的年轻小姐,姓陶儿贝,刚从欧洲的学校里到印度来.     奥多太太和葛萝薇娜每天拌好几回嘴,不管什么都是她们吵架的好题目.还亏得麦格尔.奥多的性子和天上的安琪儿一样温和,否则一天到晚听这两个女人在耳朵旁边聒噪,准会发神经病.她们虽然时常吵闹,不过对于把都宾弄来做女婿这件事却是志同道合的.她们打定主意,亲事一天不成功,就一天不让都宾过太平日子.葛萝薇娜虽然经过三四十次的挫折,倒并不灰心,继续想法子笼络他.她不断的对他唱歌,歌儿全是《爱尔兰歌选》(爱尔兰诗人托玛斯.摩尔(Ｔｈｏｍａｓ　Ｍｏｏｒｅ,１７７９—１８５２)所选.)里挑出来的.她老是可怜巴巴的问他"你愿意到凉亭里来吗"?真不明白一个感情丰富的人怎么能够挡得住这样的引诱.她又一遍一遍的探问他什么伤心事使你的青春黯然无光?像苔丝迪梦娜(莎士比亚悲剧《奥塞罗》中的女主角,奥塞罗大将向她求爱的时候,曾经把一生的经历讲给她听,就赢得了她的欢心.)一样,她愿意倾听他过去遭到的危险和经过的战争,而且也愿意在听了故事以后掉眼泪.前面已经说过,我们这位亲爱的老实的朋友时常在自己屋里练习吹笛子.葛萝薇娜知道这事,一定要用钢琴跟他合奏.奥多太太瞧见他们年轻的一对儿在弹琴吹笛,故意装没事人儿,站起来往外就走.葛萝薇娜又逼着少佐在早上陪她骑马.整个军营的人瞧着他们出发,又瞧着他们回来.她老是写条子送到他家里去.她向他借书;每逢书上有她认为动人或者幽默的片段,就用铅笔在句子底下勾了许多道儿.她向他借马,借佣人,借勺子,借轿子.怪不得外面谣传她要嫁给都宾少佐,也怪不得少佐在英国的妹妹以为哥哥打算娶嫂子.     女方虽然包围得这么紧,都宾本人却冷淡得可恶.联队里的小伙子因为葛萝薇娜明摆出对他倾心的样子,都来取笑他,他不过一笑置之,说道:"得了!她不过是怕荒疏了自己的功夫,借我练练本事罢了,就好像她借陶泽太太的钢琴练手指头一样,因为在营里,还算我最凑手.我是个饱经风霜的老头儿,配不上葛萝薇娜这样的漂亮小姐."他对小姐十分依头顺脑,照常陪她骑马,下棋,替她把诗歌和曲子抄在纪念册里等等.在印度,好些军官有了空闲不过找这样简单的消遣,其余爱闹的人便打野猪,打竹鸡,赌钱,抽烟,喝酒.麦格尔.奥多爵士的妻子和妹妹要他催着都宾少佐把事情说说明白,她们说他这种行为简直是叫可怜的女孩儿无辜受罪,太说不过去.奥多老头儿斩截的表示不管这笔账,说道:"少佐又不是小孩儿,他爱怎么样让他自己作主.倘若他要娶你,自会开口的."有时他说几句顽话想法子把她们混过去,譬如说:"都宾年纪太轻,还不能成家,所以写信回家请示他妈妈去了."不但如此,他私底下还去取笑少佐,叫他小心.他嚷嚷道:"都宾小子,当心啊!我家两个姑娘在捣鬼呢.我老婆刚从欧洲买了一箱子衣服来,里头一件粉红软缎的袍子是葛萝薇娜的.都宾啊,如果你瞧着女人跟软缎觉得动心的话,这一下就完了."     其实呢,老实的都宾不是漂亮的脸蛋儿和时髦的新装所制得服的,他脑子里只有一个女人的影子,跟那穿粉红软缎的葛萝薇娜.奥多一点儿也不像.他的心上人体态温柔,浑身穿着黑,大眼睛,棕色头发,静静儿的不大开口,别人问一句,她才答一句,说话的声音也跟葛萝薇娜的截然不同,......她是个慈祥的年轻妈妈,守着孩子,笑哈哈的招手儿叫少佐过去看他......她是个粉红脸儿的小姑娘,住在勒塞尔广场,一面唱歌一面走到屋子里来;她兴冲冲的勾着乔治.奥斯本的胳膊,一心一意爱他,......这个影子日夜在老实的少佐脑子里盘旋,做他的主宰.大概少佐心里的爱米丽亚和她本人差得很远.在英国的时候,他在他妹妹的时装画报里看见一张女人的像,有些像奥斯本太太,便偷偷的铰了下来粘在自己的小书桌盖上.这画儿我也看见过,原来是一件细腰身的袍子上面装了个洋娃娃脸,脸上堆着假笑,叫人瞧着就讨厌.也许多情的都宾先生心目中的爱米丽亚和他视为至宝的.可笑的画儿一样,和爱米丽亚本人完全不像.可是正在恋爱的人谁不糊涂呢?就算他把爱人看穿了,承认自己上了当,他会觉得乐意吗?都宾已经着了迷了,不过他倒并不把心里的话对朋友或是一般人噜�谈霾煌�,也没有因此睡不着吃不下.自从我们上次和他告别之后,他的头发慢慢花白了,爱米那一头软软的棕色头发里也添了一两根银丝.可是他的感情没有改变,也没有衰老,像成年人记忆中的童年一样新鲜.     我们已经说过少佐从欧洲得到的信,都是两位都宾小姐和爱米丽亚从英国寄给他的.奥斯本太太最近写给他一封信,措辞非常亲热,非常诚恳,她听说他不久就要跟奥多小姐结婚,特地给他道喜.     爱米丽亚的信上说:"你的妹妹待我真好,刚来看过我.她告诉我一个好消息,因此我在这儿诚诚心心的跟你道喜.我希望你娶的新夫人在各方面都配得上像你这样忠厚正直的好人.我是个苦命的寡妇,在别方面无能为力,只能替你多多祷告,并且千万分诚恳的希望你将来一帆风顺.乔杰向他亲爱的干爹请安,希望你别忘了他.我告诉他说你就要结婚了,娶的新夫人准是值得你倾心相爱的.夫妻之间的感情应当比一切都神圣和热烈,应当胜过其他一切的感情,可是我相信你一定肯在你心里留一个缝儿给你所保护和疼顾的寡妇和孤儿."这封信的内容,前面也曾经说过,写信的人从头至尾都是这样的口气,竭力表示她听到喜信以后多么高兴.     这封信和奥多太太从伦敦买来的一箱衣服一条船上寄到印度.不消说,都宾一看见这封信,来不及的拆开来看,哪里还管别的信.哪知道一看之下,恼得他想起葛萝薇娜就恶心,她的粉红袍子,她的一切,都叫他恶心.他恨恨的埋怨女人们多嘴多舌,没有一个不讨厌.那天什么都惹他生气,来回阅兵累得他又热又倦,直觉得受不住.天啊,他的责任是什么?天天操练一大群糊涂蛋,检查他们身上挂着的子弹带子.他是个有脑子的人,难道一辈子就这样糟蹋了不成?在食堂里,小伙子们说来说去全是无聊透顶的闲话,那天听着格外刺耳.他转眼就是四十岁的人了,谁高兴管斯密士中尉打了几只竹鸡,白朗旗手的马显了什么本领呢?大伙儿的说笑打诨弄得他只有羞惭的份儿.他老了,外科医生的助手和人打牙撩嘴儿,年轻小子们满口俗语土话,实在不能叫他感觉兴趣.奥多老爹的头都秃了,一张脸红喷喷的,他倒很随和,跟着大家一起打哈哈.这些笑话,他足足听了三十年,都宾自己也听了有十五年.饭堂里的打闹已经是够无聊的,再加上营里的太太们争闹相骂,背地里互相诋毁,那真是丢脸,怎么受得了?他暗想道:"唉,爱米丽亚,爱米丽亚!我对你始终如一,你倒来抢白我.我为什么勉强自己一天天在这里瞎混,还不是因为你对我没有感情吗?多少年来我一心一意的爱你,你报答我的是什么?亏你相信我会娶这个轻薄浮浪的爱尔兰女人,居然来祝贺我婚后称心如意!"可怜的威廉闷上心来,那寂寞凄凉的滋味是以前从来没有尝过的.倘若咬着牙干下去吧,不但没有用,而且无味得很,前面是一片荒凉,没有使他振奋的东西.他恨不能一撒手撇开了人生的浮名浮利,甚至于对于生命本身,他也没有什么留恋.那晚他一夜没有合眼,只想回家.看了爱米丽亚的信,身心都麻木空虚.尽他赤心忠胆,拿出一片真情来爱她,她始终是冷冰冰的.看来她是执意不愿意知道他多么爱她.都宾在床上翻来覆去,对她说道:"天啊,爱米丽亚!你难道不知道我爱的只有你?你对我就像石头一样冥顽不灵.你伤心害病的时候,我怎么样经年累月的伺候你来着?到临别的时候你笑眯眯的跟我说了声再会,门还没有关上就把我扔在脑勺子后头了."躺在他阳台上的印度佣人瞧见平时那么矜持冷静的少佐心里竟有这样的热情和痛苦,暗暗的纳罕.若是爱米丽亚看见了他当时的情况,不知道会不会可怜他?他拿出她所有的信来反反复复的看.有的信上是关于怎么处置她那一小笔财产的问题(他仍旧骗她说是丈夫留给她的遗产);有的是从前给他的请帖;只要是从她那里寄来的,有她笔迹的小纸片,他都拿出来看了又看.她的口气多么冷淡,多么和蔼,多么自私,多么令人绝望!     如果邻近有个温柔敦厚的好女郎,能够了解他沉默而豁达的性格,赏识他的为人,也许爱米丽亚就不能再辖治他,他的爱情也就有了归宿.只可惜他看来看去只有黑头发的葛萝薇娜.这位时髦小姐关心的不是自己怎么去爱少佐的问题,而是要少佐对她倾倒.可怜她的法宝又并不高明,因此一点希望.一点办法都没有.她把头发卷成一卷儿一卷儿,露出肩膀,对着他卖弄,好像说:"你看见过这么乌油油的头发和红粉粉的脸色没有?"她对他呲牙裂嘴的笑着,恨不能叫他知道她满口的牙齿个个没有毛病.他呢,对着这样一个妙人儿全不动心.新衣服寄到之后......或许就是因为有了新衣服的缘故,奥多太太和营里的太太们开了一个跳舞会,招待东印度公司的联队和驻屯区的文官们.葛萝薇娜卖弄着勾魂摄魄的粉红袍子;少佐也来了,不过他垂头丧气的在房间里走来走去,根本没有看见她的新衣服.葛萝薇娜气呼呼的当着他的面和本地所有的低级军官跳舞.可是少佐一点儿不吃醋;眼看着骑兵营的班格尔士上尉扶她进去吃晚饭,也不觉得生气.他不在乎漂亮的时装和肩膀,也不高兴和人争风吃醋,而葛萝薇娜除了这些解数之外一无所有.     他们两个人追求的全是不能实现的妄想,从他们的遭遇来看,就可以证明人生的空虚.葛萝薇娜这一回又碰了钉子,气得大哭.她抽抽噎噎的说她愿意嫁给少佐,那份儿急切真是"以前从来没有过的".她跟嫂子和睦的时候,便呜呜咽咽的向她诉苦说:"佩琪,他要使我心碎了,瞧着吧!我瘦得像个骷髅,所有的衣服都得重新改了."她肥也罢,瘦也罢,喜也罢,愁也罢,骑马也罢,弹琴也罢,少佐只是不关心.上校一面抽烟,一面听他妹妹哭诉,提议说第二回到伦敦去买衣服的时候,应该给葛萝薇娜定做些黑衣服才好.他还讲了一个很神秘的故事,说爱尔兰有一位小姐,在没有找到丈夫之前,就因为失去了丈夫伤心得一命呜呼.     都宾少佐既不爱上葛萝薇娜,又不求婚,叫她干瞧着不能到手.不久又有一只邮船从欧洲来,这没有心肝的人收到几封家信,邮戳上的日期反而比前次信上的早几天.都宾少佐看了一看,发现有他妹妹的信.都宾小姐和她哥哥的信往往走交叉路.她写信的时候把所有的坏消息收集起来报告给哥哥听,而且因为她是妹妹,说起话来十分直爽,不时的便要责备他,教训他.因此"最亲爱的威廉"每次读了家信总是整天闷闷不乐.说实话,这一回最亲爱的威廉得了妹妹的信并不拆开来看,把它撩在手边等将来自己高兴的时候再说.两星期以前他写信回去责备她不该向奥斯本太太散播谣言;爱米丽亚那里他也写信去辟谣,告诉她说自己"眼前没有意思成家".     第二批信到印度以后两三天,少佐晚上到奥多太太家里去作客,大家相当的高兴.葛萝薇娜唱歌给他听,像《两条河汇合了》.《小歌手》等等,觉得他似乎比平常殷勤些.其实她这又是自己骗自己,她在屋子里唱歌,外面月亮底下好些豺狼在嚎叫,这两种声音都进不了少佐的耳朵.接着他和葛萝薇娜下了一回棋.奥多太太到黄昏常常跟营里的医生玩叶子戏.到了一定的时候,都宾就告辞回家.     他妹妹的信还搁在桌子上,仿佛在责备他.他自己也觉得惭愧,远隔重洋的妹妹写了信来,自己却不当一回事,只得拿起这封笔迹潦草的信来,准备受一小时罪.那时少佐离开上校家里大概有一点钟光景,麦格尔.奥多爵士已经沉沉的睡着了;葛萝薇娜依照每天的习惯,用许许多多小纸条儿把她的黑头发一绺儿一绺儿卷起来;美丽的奥多太太也上了床(她和奥多的卧房在楼下),把蚊帐在床的四周严严的塞好.正在这时候,高级军官住宅区的哨兵看见都宾少佐慌慌张张的在月光下飞奔而来,走过哨兵身旁,直冲到上校卧房的窗口.     都宾一叠连声的叫道:"奥多!上校!"     葛萝薇娜头上尽是卷头发的纸条儿,从窗口伸出头来说道:"天哪!少佐啊!"     上校以为营里失火,或者是司令部下命令要他们上前线,问道:"都宾,好孩子,有什么事?"     都宾答道:"我......我要请假.我要回英国......我家里有要紧的事."     葛萝薇娜满头的卷发纸条儿索索地抖,心里暗想:"天哪,不知出了什么事?"     都宾接着说道:"我要回家......现在就动身,今儿晚上就动身."上校只好从床上起来和他开谈判.     都宾小姐那封走了对叉路的信后面附加一段消息,上面说:"昨天我去看你的老朋友奥斯本太太.自从他们家败落以后,住的地方真是破烂,你也知道的.赛特笠先生的小茅屋(那房子实在比小茅屋好不了多少)......赛特笠先生的门上新钉着一块铜牌子,看来他又成了个卖煤的了.你那干儿子长得真不错,就是喜欢逞能,而且脾气倔强,不大懂规矩.我们听你的话,时常照顾他,并且找机会让他和他的姑妈奥小姐见过一回.看来她很喜欢那孩子.说不定他的祖父......我说的是勒塞尔广场的奥斯本先生,不是外祖父,他外祖父是老糊涂了......他祖父可能回心转意,不计较他儿子从前怎么倔强荒唐,重新把孙子领回去.爱米丽亚不会不愿意的;她现在很快乐,快要跟一个教会里的人结婚了.说是白朗浦顿的一个副牧师,名叫平尼先生.这门亲事没有什么好,可是奥太太年纪不小了,我看见她头上好些白头发.她样子很高兴,你的干儿子在我们家里吃得太多,撑坏了.妈妈问候你.你的亲爱的安恩.都宾."

CHAPTER XLIV A Round-about Chapter between London and Hampshire Our old friends the Crawleys' family house, in Great Gaunt Street, still bore over its front the hatchment which had been placed there as a token of mourning for Sir Pitt Crawley's demise, yet this heraldic emblem was in itself a very splendid and gaudy piece of furniture, and all the rest of the mansion became more brilliant than it had ever been during the late baronet's reign. The black outer-coating of the bricks was removed, and they appeared with a cheerful, blushing face streaked with white: the old bronze lions of the knocker were gilt handsomely, the railings painted, and the dismallest house in Great Gaunt Street became the smartest in the whole quarter, before the green leaves in Hampshire had replaced those yellowing ones which were on the trees in Queen's Crawley Avenue when old Sir Pitt Crawley passed under them for the last time. A little woman, with a carriage to correspond, was perpetually seen about this mansion; an elderly spinster, accompanied by a little boy, also might be remarked coming thither daily. It was Miss Briggs and little Rawdon, whose business it was to see to the inward renovation of Sir Pitt's house, to superintend the female band engaged in stitching the blinds and hangings, to poke and rummage in the drawers and cupboards crammed with the dirty relics and congregated trumperies of a couple of generations of Lady Crawleys, and to take inventories of the china, the glass, and other properties in the closets and store-rooms. Mrs. Rawdon Crawley was general-in-chief over these arrangements, with full orders from Sir Pitt to sell, barter, confiscate, or purchase furniture, and she enjoyed herself not a little in an occupation which gave full scope to her taste and ingenuity. The renovation of the house was determined upon when Sir Pitt came to town in November to see his lawyers, and when he passed nearly a week in Curzon Street, under the roof of his affectionate brother and sister. He had put up at an hotel at first, but, Becky, as soon as she heard of the Baronet's arrival, went off alone to greet him, and returned in an hour to Curzon Street with Sir Pitt in the carriage by her side. It was impossible sometimes to resist this artless little creature's hospitalities, so kindly were they pressed, so frankly and amiably offered. Becky seized Pitt's hand in a transport of gratitude when he agreed to come. "Thank you," she said, squeezing it and looking into the Baronet's eyes, who blushed a good deal; "how happy this will make Rawdon!" She bustled up to Pitt's bedroom, leading on the servants, who were carrying his trunks thither. She came in herself laughing, with a coal-scuttle out of her own room. A fire was blazing already in Sir Pitt's apartment (it was Miss Briggs's room, by the way, who was sent upstairs to sleep with the maid). "I knew I should bring you," she said with pleasure beaming in her glance. Indeed, she was really sincerely happy at having him for a guest. Becky made Rawdon dine out once or twice on business, while Pitt stayed with them, and the Baronet passed the happy evening alone with her and Briggs. She went downstairs to the kitchen and actually cooked little dishes for him. "Isn't it a good salmi?" she said; "I made it for you. I can make you better dishes than that, and will when you come to see me." "Everything you do, you do well," said the Baronet gallantly. "The salmi is excellent indeed." "A poor man's wife," Rebecca replied gaily, "must make herself useful, you know"; on which her brother-in-law vowed that "she was fit to be the wife of an Emperor, and that to be skilful in domestic duties was surely one of the most charming of woman's qualities." And Sir Pitt thought, with something like mortification, of Lady Jane at home, and of a certain pie which she had insisted on making, and serving to him at dinner--a most abominable pie. Besides the salmi, which was made of Lord Steyne's pheasants from his lordship's cottage of Stillbrook, Becky gave her brother-in-law a bottle of white wine, some that Rawdon had brought with him from France, and had picked up for nothing, the little story-teller said; whereas the liquor was, in truth, some White Hermitage from the Marquis of Steyne's famous cellars, which brought fire into the Baronet's pallid cheeks and a glow into his feeble frame. Then when he had drunk up the bottle of petit vin blanc, she gave him her hand, and took him up to the drawing-room, and made him snug on the sofa by the fire, and let him talk as she listened with the tenderest kindly interest, sitting by him, and hemming a shirt for her dear little boy. Whenever Mrs. Rawdon wished to be particularly humble and virtuous, this little shirt used to come out of her work- box. It had got to be too small for Rawdon long before it was finished. Well, Rebecca listened to Pitt, she talked to him, she sang to him, she coaxed him, and cuddled him, so that he found himself more and more glad every day to get back from the lawyer's at Gray's Inn, to the blazing fire in Curzon Street--a gladness in which the men of law likewise participated, for Pitt's harangues were of the longest- -and so that when he went away he felt quite a pang at departing. How pretty she looked kissing her hand to him from the carriage and waving her handkerchief when he had taken his place in the mail! She put the handkerchief to her eyes once. He pulled his sealskin cap over his, as the coach drove away, and, sinking back, he thought to himself how she respected him and how he deserved it, and how Rawdon was a foolish dull fellow who didn't half-appreciate his wife; and how mum and stupid his own wife was compared to that brilliant little Becky. Becky had hinted every one of these things herself, perhaps, but so delicately and gently that you hardly knew when or where. And, before they parted, it was agreed that the house in London should be redecorated for the next season, and that the brothers' families should meet again in the country at Christmas. "I wish you could have got a little money out of him," Rawdon said to his wife moodily when the Baronet was gone. "I should like to give something to old Raggles, hanged if I shouldn't. It ain't right, you know, that the old fellow should be kept out of all his money. It may be inconvenient, and he might let to somebody else besides us, you know." "Tell him," said Becky, "that as soon as Sir Pitt's affairs are settled, everybody will be paid, and give him a little something on account. Here's a cheque that Pitt left for the boy," and she took from her bag and gave her husband a paper which his brother had handed over to her, on behalf of the little son and heir of the younger branch of the Crawleys. The truth is, she had tried personally the ground on which her husband expressed a wish that she should venture--tried it ever so delicately, and found it unsafe. Even at a hint about embarrassments, Sir Pitt Crawley was off and alarmed. And he began a long speech, explaining how straitened he himself was in money matters; how the tenants would not pay; how his father's affairs, and the expenses attendant upon the demise of the old gentleman, had involved him; how he wanted to pay off incumbrances; and how the bankers and agents were overdrawn; and Pitt Crawley ended by making a compromise with his sister-in-law and giving her a very small sum for the benefit of her little boy. Pitt knew how poor his brother and his brother's family must be. It could not have escaped the notice of such a cool and experienced old diplomatist that Rawdon's family had nothing to live upon, and that houses and carriages are not to be kept for nothing. He knew very well that he was the proprietor or appropriator of the money, which, according to all proper calculation, ought to have fallen to his younger brother, and he had, we may be sure, some secret pangs of remorse within him, which warned him that he ought to perform some act of justice, or, let us say, compensation, towards these disappointed relations. A just, decent man, not without brains, who said his prayers, and knew his catechism, and did his duty outwardly through life, he could not be otherwise than aware that something was due to his brother at his hands, and that morally he was Rawdon's debtor. But, as one reads in the columns of the Times newspaper every now and then, queer announcements from the Chancellor of the Exchequer, acknowledging the receipt of 50 pounds from A. B., or 10 pounds from W. T., as conscience-money, on account of taxes due by the said A. B. or W. T., which payments the penitents beg the Right Honourable gentleman to acknowledge through the medium of the public press--so is the Chancellor no doubt, and the reader likewise, always perfectly sure that the above-named A. B. and W. T. are only paying a very small instalment of what they really owe, and that the man who sends up a twenty-pound note has very likely hundreds or thousands more for which he ought to account. Such, at least, are my feelings, when I see A. B. or W. T.'s insufficient acts of repentance. And I have no doubt that Pitt Crawley's contrition, or kindness if you will, towards his younger brother, by whom he had so much profited, was only a very small dividend upon the capital sum in which he was indebted to Rawdon. Not everybody is willing to pay even so much. To part with money is a sacrifice beyond almost all men endowed with a sense of order. There is scarcely any man alive who does not think himself meritorious for giving his neighbour five pounds. Thriftless gives, not from a beneficent pleasure in giving, but from a lazy delight in spending. He would not deny himself one enjoyment; not his opera-stall, not his horse, not his dinner, not even the pleasure of giving Lazarus the five pounds. Thrifty, who is good, wise, just, and owes no man a penny, turns from a beggar, haggles with a hackney-coachman, or denies a poor relation, and I doubt which is the most selfish of the two. Money has only a different value in the eyes of each. So, in a word, Pitt Crawley thought he would do something for his brother, and then thought that he would think about it some other time. And with regard to Becky, she was not a woman who expected too much from the generosity of her neighbours, and so was quite content with all that Pitt Crawley had done for her. She was acknowledged by the head of the family. If Pitt would not give her anything, he would get something for her some day. If she got no money from her brother-in-law, she got what was as good as money--credit. Raggles was made rather easy in his mind by the spectacle of the union between the brothers, by a small payment on the spot, and by the promise of a much larger sum speedily to be assigned to him. And Rebecca told Miss Briggs, whose Christmas dividend upon the little sum lent by her Becky paid with an air of candid joy, and as if her exchequer was brimming over with gold--Rebecca, we say, told Miss Briggs, in strict confidence that she had conferred with Sir Pitt, who was famous as a financier, on Briggs's special behalf, as to the most profitable investment of Miss B.'s remaining capital; that Sir Pitt, after much consideration, had thought of a most safe and advantageous way in which Briggs could lay out her money; that, being especially interested in her as an attached friend of the late Miss Crawley, and of the whole family, and that long before he left town, he had recommended that she should be ready with the money at a moment's notice, so as to purchase at the most favourable opportunity the shares which Sir Pitt had in his eye. Poor Miss Briggs was very grateful for this mark of Sir Pitt's attention--it came so unsolicited, she said, for she never should have thought of removing the money from the funds--and the delicacy enhanced the kindness of the office; and she promised to see her man of business immediately and be ready with her little cash at the proper hour. And this worthy woman was so grateful for the kindness of Rebecca in the matter, and for that of her generous benefactor, the Colonel, that she went out and spent a great part of her half-year's dividend in the purchase of a black velvet coat for little Rawdon, who, by the way, was grown almost too big for black velvet now, and was of a size and age befitting him for the assumption of the virile jacket and pantaloons. He was a fine open-faced boy, with blue eyes and waving flaxen hair, sturdy in limb, but generous and soft in heart, fondly attaching himself to all who were good to him--to the pony--to Lord Southdown, who gave him the horse (he used to blush and glow all over when he saw that kind young nobleman)--to the groom who had charge of the pony--to Molly, the cook, who crammed him with ghost stories at night, and with good things from the dinner--to Briggs, whom he plagued and laughed at--and to his father especially, whose attachment towards the lad was curious too to witness. Here, as he grew to be about eight years old, his attachments may be said to have ended. The beautiful mother-vision had faded away after a while. During near two years she had scarcely spoken to the child. She disliked him. He had the measles and the hooping-cough. He bored her. One day when he was standing at the landing-place, having crept down from the upper regions, attracted by the sound of his mother's voice, who was singing to Lord Steyne, the drawing room door opening suddenly, discovered the little spy, who but a moment before had been rapt in delight, and listening to the music. His mother came out and struck him violently a couple of boxes on the ear. He heard a laugh from the Marquis in the inner room (who was amused by this free and artless exhibition of Becky's temper) and fled down below to his friends of the kitchen, bursting in an agony of grief. "It is not because it hurts me," little Rawdon gasped out--"only-- only"--sobs and tears wound up the sentence in a storm. It was the little boy's heart that was bleeding. "Why mayn't I hear her singing? Why don't she ever sing to me--as she does to that baldheaded man with the large teeth?" He gasped out at various intervals these exclamations of rage and grief. The cook looked at the housemaid, the housemaid looked knowingly at the footman--the awful kitchen inquisition which sits in judgement in every house and knows everything--sat on Rebecca at that moment. After this incident, the mother's dislike increased to hatred; the consciousness that the child was in the house was a reproach and a pain to her. His very sight annoyed her. Fear, doubt, and resistance sprang up, too, in the boy's own bosom. They were separated from that day of the boxes on the ear. Lord Steyne also heartily disliked the boy. When they met by mischance, he made sarcastic bows or remarks to the child, or glared at him with savage-looking eyes. Rawdon used to stare him in the face and double his little fists in return. He knew his enemy, and this gentleman, of all who came to the house, was the one who angered him most. One day the footman found him squaring his fists at Lord Steyne's hat in the hall. The footman told the circumstance as a good joke to Lord Steyne's coachman; that officer imparted it to Lord Steyne's gentleman, and to the servants' hall in general. And very soon afterwards, when Mrs. Rawdon Crawley made her appearance at Gaunt House, the porter who unbarred the gates, the servants of all uniforms in the hall, the functionaries in white waistcoats, who bawled out from landing to landing the names of Colonel and Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, knew about her, or fancied they did. The man who brought her refreshment and stood behind her chair, had talked her character over with the large gentleman in motley- coloured clothes at his side. Bon Dieu! it is awful, that servants' inquisition! You see a woman in a great party in a splendid saloon, surrounded by faithful admirers, distributing sparkling glances, dressed to perfection, curled, rouged, smiling and happy--Discovery walks respectfully up to her, in the shape of a huge powdered man with large calves and a tray of ices--with Calumny (which is as fatal as truth) behind him, in the shape of the hulking fellow carrying the wafer-biscuits. Madam, your secret will be talked over by those men at their club at the public-house to-night. Jeames will tell Chawles his notions about you over their pipes and pewter beer-pots. Some people ought to have mutes for servants in Vanity Fair--mutes who could not write. If you are guilty, tremble. That fellow behind your chair may be a Janissary with a bow-string in his plush breeches pocket. If you are not guilty, have a care of appearances, which are as ruinous as guilt. "Was Rebecca guilty or not?" the Vehmgericht of tho servants' hall had pronounced against her. And, I shame to say, she would not have got credit had they not believed her to be guilty. It was the sight of the Marquis of Steyne's carriage-lamps at her door, contemplated by Raggles, burning in the blackness of midnight, "that kep him up," as he afterwards said, that even more than Rebecca's arts and coaxings. And so--guiltless very likely--she was writhing and pushing onward towards what they call "a position in society," and the servants were pointing at her as lost and ruined. So you see Molly, the housemaid, of a morning, watching a spider in the doorpost lay his thread and laboriously crawl up it, until, tired of the sport, she raises her broom and sweeps away the thread and the artificer. A day or two before Christmas, Becky, her husband and her son made ready and went to pass the holidays at the seat of their ancestors at Queen's Crawley. Becky would have liked to leave the little brat behind, and would have done so but for Lady Jane's urgent invitations to the youngster, and the symptoms of revolt and discontent which Rawdon manifested at her neglect of her son. "He's the finest boy in England," the father said in a tone of reproach to her, "and you don't seem to care for him, Becky, as much as you do for your spaniel. He shan't bother you much; at home he will be away from you in the nursery, and he shall go outside on the coach with me." "Where you go yourself because you want to smoke those filthy cigars," replied Mrs. Rawdon. "I remember when you liked 'em though," answered the husband. Becky laughed; she was almost always good-humoured. "That was when I was on my promotion, Goosey," she said. "Take Rawdon outside with you and give him a cigar too if you like." Rawdon did not warm his little son for the winter's journey in this way, but he and Briggs wrapped up the child in shawls and comforters, and he was hoisted respectfully onto the roof of the coach in the dark morning, under the lamps of the White Horse Cellar; and with no small delight he watched the dawn rise and made his first journey to the place which his father still called home. It was a journey of infinite pleasure to the boy, to whom the incidents of the road afforded endless interest, his father answering to him all questions connected with it and telling him who lived in the great white house to the right, and whom the park belonged to. His mother, inside the vehicle, with her maid and her furs, her wrappers, and her scent bottles, made such a to-do that you would have thought she never had been in a stage-coach before-- much less, that she had been turned out of this very one to make room for a paying passenger on a certain journey performed some half-score years ago. It was dark again when little Rawdon was wakened up to enter his uncle's carriage at Mudbury, and he sat and looked out of it wondering as the great iron gates flew open, and at the white trunks of the limes as they swept by, until they stopped, at length, before the light windows of the Hall, which were blazing and comfortable with Christmas welcome. The hall-door was flung open--a big fire was burning in the great old fire-place--a carpet was down over the chequered black flags--"It's the old Turkey one that used to be in the Ladies' Gallery," thought Rebecca, and the next instant was kissing Lady Jane. She and Sir Pitt performed the same salute with great gravity; but Rawdon, having been smoking, hung back rather from his sister-in- law, whose two children came up to their cousin; and, while Matilda held out her hand and kissed him, Pitt Binkie Southdown, the son and heir, stood aloof rather and examined him as a little dog does a big dog. Then the kind hostess conducted her guests to the snug apartments blazing with cheerful fires. Then the young ladies came and knocked at Mrs. Rawdon's door, under the pretence that they were desirous to be useful, but in reality to have the pleasure of inspecting the contents of her band and bonnet-boxes, and her dresses which, though black, were of the newest London fashion. And they told her how much the Hall was changed for the better, and how old Lady Southdown was gone, and how Pitt was taking his station in the county, as became a Crawley in fact. Then the great dinner-bell having rung, the family assembled at dinner, at which meal Rawdon Junior was placed by his aunt, the good-natured lady of the house, Sir Pitt being uncommonly attentive to his sister-in-law at his own right hand. Little Rawdon exhibited a fine appetite and showed a gentlemanlike behaviour. "I like to dine here," he said to his aunt when he had completed his meal, at the conclusion of which, and after a decent grace by Sir Pitt, the younger son and heir was introduced, and was perched on a high chair by the Baronet's side, while the daughter took possession of the place and the little wine-glass prepared for her near her mother. "I like to dine here," said Rawdon Minor, looking up at his relation's kind face. "Why?" said the good Lady Jane. "I dine in the kitchen when I am at home," replied Rawdon Minor, "or else with Briggs." But Becky was so engaged with the Baronet, her host, pouring out a flood of compliments and delights and raptures, and admiring young Pitt Binkie, whom she declared to be the most beautiful, intelligent, noble-looking little creature, and so like his father, that she did not hear the remarks of her own flesh and blood at the other end of the broad shining table. As a guest, and it being the first night of his arrival, Rawdon the Second was allowed to sit up until the hour when tea being over, and a great gilt book being laid on the table before Sir Pitt, all the domestics of the family streamed in, and Sir Pitt read prayers. It was the first time the poor little boy had ever witnessed or heard of such a ceremonial. The house had been much improved even since the Baronet's brief reign, and was pronounced by Becky to be perfect, charming, delightful, when she surveyed it in his company. As for little Rawdon, who examined it with the children for his guides, it seemed to him a perfect palace of enchantment and wonder. There were long galleries, and ancient state bedrooms, there were pictures and old China, and armour. There were the rooms in which Grandpapa died, and by which the children walked with terrified looks. "Who was Grandpapa?" he asked; and they told him how he used to be very old, and used to be wheeled about in a garden-chair, and they showed him the garden-chair one day rotting in the out-house in which it had lain since the old gentleman had been wheeled away yonder to the church, of which the spire was glittering over the park elms. The brothers had good occupation for several mornings in examining the improvements which had been effected by Sir Pitt's genius and economy. And as they walked or rode, and looked at them, they could talk without too much boring each other. And Pitt took care to tell Rawdon what a heavy outlay of money these improvements had occasioned, and that a man of landed and funded property was often very hard pressed for twenty pounds. "There is that new lodge-gate," said Pitt, pointing to it humbly with the bamboo cane, "I can no more pay for it before the dividends in January than I can fly." "I can lend you, Pitt, till then," Rawdon answered rather ruefully; and they went in and looked at the restored lodge, where the family arms were just new scraped in stone, and where old Mrs. Lock, for the first time these many long years, had tight doors, sound roofs, and whole windows. 第 四 十 四 章    在伦敦和汉泊郡的曲折的情节     在大岗脱街上,我们的老朋友克劳莱家的府第门前仍旧挂着报丧板,表示追念毕脱.克劳莱爵士,不过这块木板上面漆着世袭的纹章,本身就非常灿烂鲜明.宅子里外焕然一新,从男爵生前从来没有把屋子修葺得这么整齐.砖墙外面本来涂着黑颜色,如今磨洗干净之后,是红砖白线,显得精神.门环上的铜狮子镀了金,非常漂亮,铁栅栏也重新漆过.这样,大岗脱街上最黑不溜秋的房子成了全区最光鲜的了.毕脱.克劳莱老爵士的棺材给抬出女王的克劳莱大厦的时候,树上的叶子正在渐渐转黄,现在那一带树上还没有长出新的绿叶子来,却已经有了这么些变迁.     一个小个子女人老是坐了马车在这儿进出.另外有一个年纪很大的老小姐,带着个小男孩儿,也是天天来.这两人就是布立葛丝和小罗登.布立葛丝小姐的责任是收拾屋子,监督女佣人缝窗帘和幔子.上两代的克劳莱夫人塞在壁橱和抽斗里的肮脏旧东西;成堆中看不中用的垃圾,也责成她清理出来,并且把储藏室和小间里的瓷器和玻璃杯等等录成清单.     罗登.克劳莱太太发号施令,总揽一切大事.关于家具的买卖,交换,查封,毕脱爵士全权委托她办理.这件任务恰好能够让她施展才能,发扬她高明的见解,因此她心里也喜欢.修理房子的计划还是上一年十一月里定下的,当时毕脱有事情和律师接洽,特地到伦敦来,还在克生街住了差不多一星期,弟弟和弟妇招待得十分殷勤.     起先他住在旅馆里;蓓基一听得从男爵在伦敦,立刻一个人先去欢迎他.过了一点钟,毕脱爵士果然坐在她马车里一起到克生街来了.如果利蓓加立意要请人回家款待的话,被请的就很难推辞,因为她一片真心,说的话又恳切,态度又和蔼可亲.她劝得毕脱爵士转了口,感激得了不得,捏着他的手,紧紧的瞅着他说道:"多谢你,这一下罗登可乐了!"毕脱爵士的脸也红了好半天.她忙忙碌碌的领着佣人抬箱子到毕脱房里去,又笑着亲手从自己屋里搬了一个煤斗子来.     毕脱的屋子里已经暖暖的生了一炉子火;这一间本来是布立葛丝住的,毕脱爵士一来,她就上楼住在女佣人屋里.蓓基高兴得眼睛发亮,说道:"我知道你一定会来的."毕脱爵士肯来作客,她真是诚心诚意的欢喜.     毕脱住在他们家里的时候,蓓基叫罗登只做有事,在外面吃一两次晚饭,家里只剩她和布立葛丝陪着从男爵,一黄昏空气非常融洽.她亲身下厨房给他做菜.她说:"这野鸡肉不错吧?是我特地给你炸的.比这个好的菜我也会做.下回你来看我,我就做给你吃."     从男爵献媚说道:"只要你肯动手,没有事做不好的.这野鸡的滋味真是了不起."     利蓓加活泼泼的回答道:"穷人的老婆什么事都得自己动手呀."她的大伯子听了这话,赌神罚誓的说她"配得上做皇帝的正宫娘娘.善于管理家务的女人才是最招人爱的."毕脱爵士想起家里的吉恩夫人,心里着实惭愧;有一回她再三要亲手做饼给他吃,做得简直不能入口.     野鸡是斯丹恩勋爵斯帝尔白鲁克的小别墅附近打下来的.除了野鸡,蓓基又请大伯子喝一瓶上好的白酒.这瓶酒是斯丹恩侯爵家里拿来的白葡萄酒.她却撒谎说是罗登在法国捡来的便宜货.侯爵藏的酒是有名的,从男爵一喝下去,苍白的脸上立刻泛红,他那虚弱的身子里也觉得暖融融的有了力气.     蓓基等他喝完了酒,伸出手来挽着他的胳膊拉他到楼上客厅里,请他在火炉旁边的椅子上坐下来,把他服侍得周身舒服.她让他说话,自己坐在旁边静静的听,表示对他说不出来的关心,手里拿着儿子的小裙子一针一针的缝.每逢罗登的老婆做张做致装贤慧,便把这条小裙子从针线篮里拿出来缝着.裙子没有完工,小罗登早已穿不下了.     毕脱愿意说话的时候,她耐心的听着,不然的话,她就跟他聊天,给他唱歌,甜言蜜语的哄他,体贴入微的照料他,弄得他心里熨帖,每天在格雷法学协会的律师事务所办完了公事,巴不得快快回家烤火.那几个律师也恨不得他早走,因为他最喜欢高谈阔论,开了口就没有个了结.毕脱动身回家的时候,很有点儿依依不舍.利蓓加看他上了邮车找着位子,便在自己马车窗口对他送吻,摇手帕,那风姿真是妩媚动人.有一回她还拿起手帕来擦眼泪.开车的时候毕脱把海狸皮帽子拉下来遮住眼睛,靠着椅背坐好,心里想到利蓓加对自己多么尊敬,而自己又多么值得她尊敬.他觉得罗登是个没脑子的糊涂东西,竟不能赏识老婆的好处.他又想到自己的老婆和聪明能干的蓓基不能比,真正是拙口笨腮,一点不伶俐.说不定这些事情都是蓓基点醒了他才想起来的,可是她的话说得又婉转又不着痕迹,听的人简直不知道她在什么时候,在什么场合之下说过这些话.他们分手以前,约定把伦敦的公馆重新装修,下一季就可动用,又说好到圣诞节两家再见面.     从男爵告别以后,罗登垂头丧气的,对他老婆说道:"可惜你没有从他那里弄些钱来.咱们应该把拉哥尔斯老爹的账还掉一部分才好呢.你想,那老头儿一个子儿都不能到手,怎么说得过去?再说,这样下去对咱们也不利,没准他把房子租给别的人,咱们怎么办?"     蓓基道:"你跟他说,等到毕脱爵士把事情办妥当之后,所有的账都要付的.暂时先付他一点儿.毕脱给了我这张支票,说是给孩子的."说着,她从钱袋里拿出一张支票来交给丈夫,这笔钱是他哥哥给克劳莱家二房里长子的见面礼.     实情是这样的,她丈夫要她做的事,她自己也尝试过.她的话说的非常委婉,可是一开口就知道这事行不得.她提到家计艰难,毕脱.克劳莱爵士就着忙了.他说了一大堆话,说自己手头怎么短钱使;佃户又不肯交租;父亲生前的纠葛,死后的丧葬费,又给他重重的牵累.债主们在土地上的权限,他想收买回来,银行和代理人那里的款子偏又透支了许多.结果,毕脱.克劳莱想出个折衷的办法,给了小婶子一笔极小的款子,算是送她儿子的见面礼.     他弟弟家里艰难到什么地步,毕脱很明白.像他这样镇静老练,经验丰富,有手段的人,当然看得出罗登家里一无所有,而且连房子带马车,开销一定不少.他知道他的财产按道理是他弟弟的名分,如今被他霸占过来,心里未始不觉得惭愧.他明白自己害得弟弟弟妇的希望落了空,应该还他们一个公道待遇,或者说应该拿一部分儿钱出来补偿他们的损失.像他这样的人,为人公正,行事顾大体,也不能算没有头脑,平时又懂教理,又做祷告,表面上克尽己责,当然知道在道义上说起来,他欠了罗登一笔债,有义务给他一些好处.     咱们的财务大臣时常在《泰晤士报》上发布一种希奇古怪的通告,承认受到某人五十镑,某人十镑.这些人在通告底下声明因欠税未缴,于心不安,特缴良心税若干,恳求财政大臣查收之后正式登报承认.财政大臣和看报的人都知道那些人只付了欠缴的总数里面极小的一部分.那个欠税的人送进去二十镑钱,实际上大概欠了国家成千成万镑的税收呢.当我看到他们送虚情似的赎罪补过,心里常有这种感想.毕脱.克劳莱沾了弟弟那么些光,因为良心上过不去......你要说他待弟弟厚道也未尝不可,居然拿了几个钱出来;我想如果把这笔款子和他从罗登手里夺过来的数目比一比,一定小得可怜.不过就算是这种极小的数目也并不是人人都肯脱手的.要知道把钱送人是一种牺牲,凡是明白事理的人谁肯做这样的傻事?世上的人谁不是施舍了五镑钱就自以为功德无量呢?有一等人不惜钱财,并不是因为他们乐善好施,不过是散散漫漫的爱花钱.他们一点儿不肯委屈自己,歌剧院里定着包厢,又要买好马,又要吃好菜,哪一样能少?就连布施五镑钱给癞皮化子的乐趣也不愿意放过去.又有一等人,为人正直,不欠账,不布施穷人,不借钱给穷亲戚,雇了车子还得和车夫斤斤较量讲价钱.这两种人究竟谁更自私,我也难下断语,因为一样的金钱,在不同的人看起来就有不同的价值.     总而言之,毕脱.克劳莱本来打算帮弟弟一个忙,后来再想了一想,便又延宕下去.     蓓基呢,倒向来不指望别人对她怎么慷慨,毕脱.克劳莱肯这样对待她,已经使她心满意足.反正一家的首脑已经正式承认她的地位,即使他不肯出钱,将来在别方面帮忙总可以的.再说,蓓基的大伯子虽然没出现钱,她却得到实惠,因为她又可以继续赊账了.拉哥尔斯看见两兄弟这样和睦,自己又到手了一笔小款子,对方又答应不久就还他一大笔钱,觉得很放心.布立葛丝借款上圣诞节一期的利息已经到期,蓓基欣欣然付了钱,仿佛她库里的金银多得堆不下似的.她私底下告诉布立葛丝一个秘密,叫她切不可张扬出去.她说毕脱爵士是财政经济方面的专家,她为布立葛丝打算,特地和毕脱爵士商议,问他布小姐余下的资本应该怎么投资最有利.毕脱爵士再三考虑之后,已经想出一个好办法,本金最稳当,利息又厚.布立葛丝是克劳莱小姐忠心的朋友,和家里的人都有交情,所以毕脱爵士关心她,到乡下去之前,早就说过叫她把所有的钱都预备着,只等有好机会,就可以把他看中的股票买下来,可怜的布立葛丝听得毕脱爵士那么提携她,感激得了不得.她说难得他肯自动帮忙,她自己压根儿没想到把原来的公债出卖;而且他这件事做得那么委婉,越显得他待人有情有义.她答应去看那替她经手办事的人,把她那一小笔款子预备好,随时要,随时就有.     布立葛丝是个好好人,她觉得利蓓加在这件事上为她尽力,上校对她又是恩深义重,心里感激,便送给小罗登一件黑丝绒外套,把半年的利钱花掉了一大半.那时小罗登已经长得很大,穿黑丝绒外套不大合适了.照他的年龄和高矮,正该像大男孩一样穿长裤子和短外套才对.     他眉目开朗,身体很健全,碧蓝的眼睛,波浪形的淡黄头发,四肢长得结实,心地十分忠厚.谁和他好,他就和谁好.他爱自己的小马,也爱送他小马的莎吴塞唐伯爵,一看见这位和气的青年公子,便把一张脸涨得通红.给他管马的马夫,晚上给他讲鬼故事,白天喂他吃好东西的厨娘莫莱,被他嘲笑磨缠的布立葛丝,也是他的朋友.他尤其爱自己的爸爸,而那做爸爸的对儿子那份儿疼爱也使人纳罕.小罗登长到八岁,喜欢的人只有这几个.他小的时候把母亲当天仙一样崇拜,过后也就淡然了.两年来她差不多从来不理孩子.她多嫌他.他一会儿出痧子,一会儿害百日咳,好不麻烦!有一天,蓓基在客厅里对斯丹恩勋爵唱歌,孩子听见妈妈的歌声,从楼上偷偷的溜下来,躲在楼梯转角听得着了迷.不料那时客厅的门忽然开了,门外的探子当场现了形.     他母亲走上来啪啪的打了他两个耳刮子.他听得斯丹恩侯爵在里面笑,原来侯爵看见蓓基一时忘情,这样大发脾气,忍不住发起笑来.他挨了打又气又苦,哭哭啼啼逃到厨房里去.     小罗登一面哭一面说道:"我不是怕痛,可是......可是......"他抽抽噎噎,眼泪鼻涕,哭得说不出话来.这孩子的心给伤透了.他又气又怒,一面哭,一面断断续续的嚷嚷道:"为什么不许我听她唱歌?她干吗不唱给我听?干吗唱给那大牙齿的秃子听?"厨娘瞧着丫头,丫头又瞧着听差使眼色.无论在哪一家,厨房里的佣人不但知道主人的秘密,而且判断主人的是非,竟像庭上的法官一般严正可怕.那天,他们判决了利蓓加的罪名.     经过这事之后,母亲对儿子的嫌恶成了仇恨;每逢她想到孩子和她住在一家,良心好像受了责备,老大不痛快,因此一看见儿子就着恼.孩子心里也是疑惧不安,跟妈妈势不两立.从打耳刮子那天起,娘儿两个心里便生了嫌隙.     斯丹恩侯爵也是从心里讨厌孩子.有时碰的不巧,两人拍面相撞,侯爵总摆出一副尖酸嘴脸,有时假模假样对他鞠躬,有时抢白他几句,再不然就恶恶实实瞪他几眼.罗登也不让步,握紧拳头和侯爵两个对瞪眼.他认得清谁是他的冤家对头;所有到家里来的客人,他最恨这位先生.有一天,听差看见他在过道里对斯丹恩爵士的帽子伸拳头,把这事当作有趣的笑话,说给斯丹恩勋爵的马车夫听.马车夫又把这笑话转告斯丹恩勋爵的跟班和家里别的佣人.不久以后,罗登.克劳莱太太到岗脱大厦去作客,开门的门房,穿着各色号衣在厅堂里站班的听差,穿着白背心站在各个楼梯口唱名通报的侍者,人人都知道她的秘密......至少他们自以为知道她的秘密.站在她椅子后面给她斟酒上菜的听差早已和他旁边那穿五色号衣的胖子讨论过她的人品.老天啊,佣人们的判决真可怕!好些烫头发抹胭脂的漂亮女人,身上穿戴得无懈可击,在富丽堂皇的客厅里当贵客,对着一大群为她倾倒的男人流目送笑,旁观的人看她笑眯眯的不知多么福气.却不料她的底细全握在旁边那个听差手里......就是那身材高大.小腿长得又粗又壮.头发里洒了粉.捧着一盘子冷饮恭恭敬敬送到她面前来的一个.另外一个笨手笨脚的家伙,端着一盘子松饼跟在后面;只要他一开口,这位漂亮太太少不得名誉扫地,因为闲人嘴里的一句流言就会坐实你的罪名,好比给人拿住了真凭实据一样.我的太太,今天晚上这些家伙准在酒店里(也就是他们的俱乐部里)把你的秘密当做闲谈的资料.詹姆士和却尔斯一面抽烟斗喝啤酒,一面便要议论你的短长.在名利场中,有好些主子雇佣人的时候应该只挑哑巴,而且是不会写字的哑巴.干过坏事的人哪,小心吧!你椅子背后的听差说不定是仇人的爪牙,在他的丝绒裤子袋里藏着弓弦,随时会把你绞死.至于没有干过坏事的人,也应该随时检点行为,若是坏了体面,你的名声再也洗不清了.     "利蓓加为人清白不清白?"下房里的裁判所判她不清白.     说出来难为情,如果他们相信她清白无辜,她早就没处赊账了.拉哥尔斯后来对别人说起他受骗的原因,他说利蓓加的手段和甜言蜜语倒在其次,主要的还是因为他老看见斯丹恩勋爵的马车停在她家大门口,马车上的大灯半夜三更还亮晃晃的点着,所以才一误再误的上她的当.     说不定她是清白的,不过她钻营拍马,千方百计想在"上流社会"里插一脚,惹得下人们指指点点,把她当作失足堕落的女人.譬如说,莫莱早上收拾屋子,看见门柱上一个蜘蛛在结网,好不容易沿着细丝儿往上爬.她起先觉得有趣,后来看厌了,举起笤帚连蜘蛛带网一下子扫个精光.下人们对利蓓加的态度也是这样.     圣诞节前一两天,蓓基和她丈夫儿子准备动身到女王的克劳莱老家去过节.蓓基本来想把那小鬼留在伦敦,可是吉恩夫人再三要她带着孩子一起去,罗登也因为她心里没有儿子,大不高兴,对于老婆强头倔脑起来,她也只好罢了.罗登埋怨她说:"蓓基,他是全英国最好的孩子,怎么你竟一点儿不疼他,对他还不如你那条小狗.他又害不着你,到了乡下,他自然在孩子们屋里,不会来麻烦你.在路上,我可以带着他坐在邮车顶上."     罗登太太答道:"你自己也愿意坐在外头,因为你要抽你那臭味熏天的雪茄烟."     她丈夫道:"我记得从前你倒挺喜欢雪茄烟那股子味儿."     这话说的蓓基笑起来.她差不多从来不发脾气.她说:"那时候我要向上爬呀,傻子!你爱带着罗登在外边坐也由你,你要给他抽雪茄也由你."     路上虽然冷,罗登倒并没有依着老婆的话给儿子抽雪茄烟取暖.他和布立葛丝用披肩和围巾把孩子严严的裹起来.车夫对于小罗登非常客气,把他抱到车顶上.那时天还没有亮,白马酒店里点着灯,他就坐在灯底下.他看着天色渐渐发白;这是他第一回到他父亲的"老家"去,高兴得了不得.他一路欢天喜地,路上碰见的事都没有一件不新鲜,他问了许多问题,他父亲一一回答,告诉他右边的大白房子里住着什么人,那大花园又是谁家的.他的母亲坐在车子里面,穿了皮衣披着外套,带着一瓶瓶的香水香精,还有一个女佣人专诚服侍她,动不动大惊小怪,竟好像一辈子没有上过邮车,谁想得到十年之前她到乡下去坐的就是这辆车子,而且还给毕脱爵士从车子里赶到车顶上,把位子让给出钱的旅客坐.     邮车到墨特白莱的时候天又黑了,小罗登给摇醒了领到伯父的马车里坐下来.他一路东张西望,看见大铁门豁然大开,刷过石灰水的树干在马车窗口飞快的往后倒退,心里好不奇怪.最后他们总算到了,马车在大厦发亮的窗户前面停下来.里面灯烛辉煌,暖融融喜孜孜的正是过节时候的气氛.家人开了正门请他们进去,厅上的旧式大壁炉里生着熊熊的大火,黑白相间的砖地上铺了地毯.利蓓加暗想:"这块土耳其地毯从前铺在太太们使的长廊里的."一面想着,一面迎着吉恩夫人吻她.     她和毕脱爵士也一本正经的行过同样的礼.罗登因为恰才抽过烟,缩在后面躲着嫂子.吉恩夫人的两个孩子上来欢迎堂哥哥;玛蒂尔达不但和他拉手,并且吻了他一下.承继长房宗祧的毕脱.平葛.莎吴塞唐却不凑上来,只像小狗认大狗似的对他细细端详.     和蔼的主妇把客人让到客房里,里面也生着火,并且安排得十分舒服.两个姑娘下来敲罗登太太的门,假装来帮忙,其实是想看看她盒子和箱子里的帽子衣服,因为她虽然仍旧穿孝,衣著穿戴全是伦敦最新的款式.她们告诉她说家里比以前舒服得多了;莎吴塞唐夫人如今不住在这里,毕脱在区里很有地位,克劳莱家里的人,原该如此才对.后来下面打钟开饭,一家老小都聚在一起吃饭.小罗登挨着大娘坐,这位主妇对他非常慈爱.毕脱爵士请弟妇坐在右手,着实殷勤了一番.     小罗登胃口很好,而且没有错了规矩.     吃完晚饭之后,他对大娘说道:"我喜欢在这儿吃饭."饭后毕脱爵士做了个很得体的祷告,然后他的儿子也进来了,坐在爸爸旁边的一张高椅子里.女儿的位子设在妈妈旁边,前面搁着她自己的小酒盅.小罗登瞧着大娘慈祥的脸儿说道:"我喜欢在这儿吃饭."     忠厚的吉恩夫人问道:"为什么呢?"     小罗登答道:"在家的时候我在厨房里吃,或是跟布立葛丝一起吃."蓓基正忙着应酬她的主人从男爵,满口奉承的话儿,自己心里那份儿喜欢高兴,更是说也说不完.她说毕脱.平葛又聪明,又漂亮,气度又尊贵,跟父亲长得一个样儿.她忙着应酬,哪里还顾得到发亮的大桌子另一头的事?所以自己的骨血说的话竟没有听见.     小罗登因为是客,又是刚到,长辈们特准他比平常晚一点儿上床.喝过茶之后,毕脱爵士拿出一本金边的大书,搁在面前,所有的佣人们排着班走进来,由毕脱爵士领头儿祷告.这样的仪式,可怜的孩子还是第一回看见,第一回参加.     从男爵当家不久,房子里外已经改善了许多.蓓基跟着他一处处参观,一面称赞说这屋子布置得真是漂亮典雅,尽善尽美.小罗登由孩子们领着,也走了一转,恍惚觉得进了神仙洞府.屋里有长廊,有旧式的大卧房,有画儿,有古董瓷器,还有盔甲.有一间屋子是爷爷死在里面的,孩子们走过的时候怕得厉害.他问道:"谁是爷爷呢?"他们告诉他说爷爷很老,从前老是坐在轮椅里面给推来推去.有一天他们把外面小屋子里的轮椅指给他看;自从老头儿给抬到教堂下葬之后,那椅子一直撩在那里,越堆越破烂.教堂就在近边,尖顶在园里的榆树顶上矗出来,亮晶晶的发光.     兄弟俩费了好几个早晨巡视庄地上改善的部分,不致于白闲着.庄地上能有这些成绩,全靠毕脱爵士会理财,能办事.他们有的时候骑马,有的时候走路,两个人到处查看,倒也有话可说,没有觉得气闷.毕脱特地告诉罗登,说是这些工料着实费钱,又说越是有田地有产业的人,手头越是拮据,有时连二十镑钱都拿不出来.毕脱做出无可奈何的样子,举起竹杖指着说道:"就拿这门房来说,新近装了门,钱还欠着没有付,总得明年一月里的股息到手以后才能还清.现在叫我拿钱出来,等于叫我飞上天."     罗登垂从丧气的答道:"这几个钱我还借得出,毕脱,你到一月还给我得了."他们又去看门房的小屋;屋子修理刚完,前面的石牌上雕着世袭的纹章.洛克老妈妈在这家子当了多少年差,直到如今才有了关得严的门,完整的窗户,和不漏的屋顶.

CHAPTER XLV Between Hampshire and London Sir Pitt Crawley had done more than repair fences and restore dilapidated lodges on the Queen's Crawley estate. Like a wise man he had set to work to rebuild the injured popularity of his house and stop up the gaps and ruins in which his name had been left by his disreputable and thriftless old predecessor. He was elected for the borough speedily after his father's demise; a magistrate, a member of parliament, a county magnate and representative of an ancient family, he made it his duty to show himself before the Hampshire public, subscribed handsomely to the county charities, called assiduously upon all the county folk, and laid himself out in a word to take that position in Hampshire, and in the Empire afterwards, to which he thought his prodigious talents justly entitled him. Lady Jane was instructed to be friendly with the Fuddlestones, and the Wapshots, and the other famous baronets, their neighbours. Their carriages might frequently be seen in the Queen's Crawley avenue now; they dined pretty frequently at the Hall (where the cookery was so good that it was clear Lady Jane very seldom had a hand in it), and in return Pitt and his wife most energetically dined out in all sorts of weather and at all sorts of distances. For though Pitt did not care for joviality, being a frigid man of poor hearth and appetite, yet he considered that to be hospitable and condescending was quite incumbent on-his station, and every time that he got a headache from too long an after-dinner sitting, he felt that he was a martyr to duty. He talked about crops, corn-laws, politics, with the best country gentlemen. He (who had been formerly inclined to be a sad free-thinker on these points) entered into poaching and game preserving with ardour. He didn't hunt; he wasn't a hunting man; he was a man of books and peaceful habits; but he thought that the breed of horses must be kept up in the country, and that the breed of foxes must therefore be looked to, and for his part, if his friend, Sir Huddlestone Fuddlestone, liked to draw his country and meet as of old the F. hounds used to do at Queen's Crawley, he should be happy to see him there, and the gentlemen of the Fuddlestone hunt. And to Lady Southdown's dismay too he became more orthodox in his tendencies every day; gave up preaching in public and attending meeting-houses; went stoutly to church; called on the Bishop and all the Clergy at Winchester; and made no objection when the Venerable Archdeacon Trumper asked for a game of whist. What pangs must have been those of Lady Southdown, and what an utter castaway she must have thought her son-in-law for permitting such a godless diversion! And when, on the return of the family from an oratorio at Winchester, the Baronet announced to the young ladies that he should next year very probably take them to the "county balls," they worshipped him for his kindness. Lady Jane was only too obedient, and perhaps glad herself to go. The Dowager wrote off the direst descriptions of her daughter's worldly behaviour to the authoress of the Washerwoman of Finchley Common at the Cape; and her house in Brighton being about this time unoccupied, returned to that watering-place, her absence being not very much deplored by her children. We may suppose, too, that Rebecca, on paying a second visit to Queen's Crawley, did not feel particularly grieved at the absence of the lady of the medicine chest; though she wrote a Christmas letter to her Ladyship, in which she respectfully recalled herself to Lady Southdown's recollection, spoke with gratitude of the delight which her Ladyship's conversation had given her on the former visit, dilated on the kindness with which her Ladyship had treated her in sickness, and declared that everything at Queen's Crawley reminded her of her absent friend. A great part of the altered demeanour and popularity of Sir Pitt Crawley might have been traced to the counsels of that astute little lady of Curzon Street. "You remain a Baronet--you consent to be a mere country gentleman," she said to him, while he had been her guest in London. "No, Sir Pitt Crawley, I know you better. I know your talents and your ambition. You fancy you hide them both, but you can conceal neither from me. I showed Lord Steyne your pamphlet on malt. He was familiar with it, and said it was in the opinion of the whole Cabinet the most masterly thing that had appeared on the subject. The Ministry has its eye upon you, and I know what you want. You want to distinguish yourself in Parliament; every one says you are the finest speaker in England (for your speeches at Oxford are still remembered). You want to be Member for the County, where, with your own vote and your borough at your back, you can command anything. And you want to be Baron Crawley of Queen's Crawley, and will be before you die. I saw it all. I could read your heart, Sir Pitt. If I had a husband who possessed your intellect as he does your name, I sometimes think I should not be unworthy of him--but--but I am your kinswoman now," she added with a laugh. "Poor little penniless, I have got a little interest--and who knows, perhaps the mouse may be able to aid the lion." Pitt Crawley was amazed and enraptured with her speech. "How that woman comprehends me!" he said. "I never could get Jane to read three pages of the malt pamphlet. She has no idea that I have commanding talents or secret ambition. So they remember my speaking at Oxford, do they? The rascals! Now that I represent my borough and may sit for the county, they begin to recollect me! Why, Lord Steyne cut me at the levee last year; they are beginning to find out that Pitt Crawley is some one at last. Yes, the man was always the same whom these people neglected: it was only the opportunity that was wanting, and I will show them now that I can speak and act as well as write. Achilles did not declare himself until they gave him the sword. I hold it now, and the world shall yet hear of Pitt Crawley." Therefore it was that this roguish diplomatist has grown so hospitable; that he was so civil to oratorios and hospitals; so kind to Deans and Chapters; so generous in giving and accepting dinners; so uncommonly gracious to farmers on market-days; and so much interested about county business; and that the Christmas at the Hall was the gayest which had been known there for many a long day. On Christmas Day a great family gathering took place. All the Crawleys from the Rectory came to dine. Rebecca was as frank and fond of Mrs. Bute as if the other had never been her enemy; she was affectionately interested in the dear girls, and surprised at the progress which they had made in music since her time, and insisted upon encoring one of the duets out of the great song-books which Jim, grumbling, had been forced to bring under his arm from the Rectory. Mrs. Bute, perforce, was obliged to adopt a decent demeanour towards the little adventuress--of course being free to discourse with her daughters afterwards about the absurd respect with which Sir Pitt treated his sister-in-law. But Jim, who had sat next to her at dinner, declared she was a trump, and one and all of the Rector's family agreed that the little Rawdon was a fine boy. They respected a possible baronet in the boy, between whom and the title there was only the little sickly pale Pitt Binkie. The children were very good friends. Pitt Binkie was too little a dog for such a big dog as Rawdon to play with; and Matilda being only a girl, of course not fit companion for a young gentleman who was near eight years old, and going into jackets very soon. He took the command of this small party at once--the little girl and the little boy following him about with great reverence at such times as he condescended to sport with them. His happiness and pleasure in the country were extreme. The kitchen garden pleased him hugely, the flowers moderately, but the pigeons and the poultry, and the stables when he was allowed to visit them, were delightful objects to him. He resisted being kissed by the Misses Crawley, but he allowed Lady Jane sometimes to embrace him, and it was by her side that he liked to sit when, the signal to retire to the drawing-room being given, the ladies left the gentlemen to their claret--by her side rather than by his mother. For Rebecca, seeing that tenderness was the fashion, called Rawdon to her one evening and stooped down and kissed him in the presence of all the ladies. He looked her full in the face after the operation, trembling and turning very red, as his wont was when moved. "You never kiss me at home, Mamma," he said, at which there was a general silence and consternation and a by no means pleasant look in Becky's eyes. Rawdon was fond of his sister-in-law, for her regard for his son. Lady Jane and Becky did not get on quite so well at this visit as on occasion of the former one, when the Colonel's wife was bent upon pleasing. Those two speeches of the child struck rather a chill. Perhaps Sir Pitt was rather too attentive to her. But Rawdon, as became his age and size, was fonder of the society of the men than of the women, and never wearied of accompanying his sire to the stables, whither the Colonel retired to smoke his cigar --Jim, the Rector's son, sometimes joining his cousin in that and other amusements. He and the Baronet's keeper were very close friends, their mutual taste for "dawgs" bringing them much together. On one day, Mr. James, the Colonel, and Horn, the keeper, went and shot pheasants, taking little Rawdon with them. On another most blissful morning, these four gentlemen partook of the amusement of rat-hunting in a barn, than which sport Rawdon as yet had never seen anything more noble. They stopped up the ends of certain drains in the barn, into the other openings of which ferrets were inserted, and then stood silently aloof, with uplifted stakes in their hands, and an anxious little terrier (Mr. James's celebrated "dawg" Forceps, indeed) scarcely breathing from excitement, listening motionless on three legs, to the faint squeaking of the rats below. Desperately bold at last, the persecuted animals bolted above- ground--the terrier accounted for one, the keeper for another; Rawdon, from flurry and excitement, missed his rat, but on the other hand he half-murdered a ferret. But the greatest day of all was that on which Sir Huddlestone Fuddlestone's hounds met upon the lawn at Queen's Crawley. That was a famous sight for little Rawdon. At half-past ten, Tom Moody, Sir Huddlestone Fuddlestone's huntsman, was seen trotting up the avenue, followed by the noble pack of hounds in a compact body-- the rear being brought up by the two whips clad in stained scarlet frocks--light hard-featured lads on well-bred lean horses, possessing marvellous dexterity in casting the points of their long heavy whips at the thinnest part of any dog's skin who dares to straggle from the main body, or to take the slightest notice, or even so much as wink, at the hares and rabbits starting under their noses. Next comes boy Jack, Tom Moody's son, who weighs five stone, measures eight-and-forty inches, and will never be any bigger. He is perched on a large raw-boned hunter, half-covered by a capacious saddle. This animal is Sir Huddlestone Fuddlestone's favourite horse the Nob. Other horses, ridden by other small boys, arrive from time to time, awaiting their masters, who will come cantering on anon. Tom Moody rides up to the door of the Hall, where he is welcomed by the butler, who offers him drink, which he declines. He and his pack then draw off into a sheltered corner of the lawn, where the dogs roll on the grass, and play or growl angrily at one another, ever and anon breaking out into furious fight speedily to be quelled by Tom's voice, unmatched at rating, or the snaky thongs of the whips. Many young gentlemen canter up on thoroughbred hacks, spatter-dashed to the knee, and enter the house to drink cherry-brandy and pay their respects to the ladies, or, more modest and sportsmanlike, divest themselves of their mud-boots, exchange their hacks for their hunters, and warm their blood by a preliminary gallop round the lawn. Then they collect round the pack in the corner and talk with Tom Moody of past sport, and the merits of Sniveller and Diamond, and of the state of the country and of the wretched breed of foxes. Sir Huddlestone presently appears mounted on a clever cob and rides up to the Hall, where he enters and does the civil thing by the ladies, after which, being a man of few words, he proceeds to business. The hounds are drawn up to the hall-door, and little Rawdon descends amongst them, excited yet half-alarmed by the caresses which they bestow upon him, at the thumps he receives from their waving tails, and at their canine bickerings, scarcely restrained by Tom Moody's tongue and lash. Meanwhile, Sir Huddlestone has hoisted himself unwieldily on the Nob: "Let's try Sowster's Spinney, Tom," says the Baronet, "Farmer Mangle tells me there are two foxes in it." Tom blows his horn and trots off, followed by the pack, by the whips, by the young gents from Winchester, by the farmers of the neighbourhood, by the labourers of the parish on foot, with whom the day is a great holiday, Sir Huddlestone bringing up the rear with Colonel Crawley, and the whole cortege disappears down the avenue. The Reverend Bute Crawley (who has been too modest to appear at the public meet before his nephew's windows), whom Tom Moody remembers forty years back a slender divine riding the wildest horses, jumping the widest brooks, and larking over the newest gates in the country-- his Reverence, we say, happens to trot out from the Rectory Lane on his powerful black horse just as Sir Huddlestone passes; he joins the worthy Baronet. Hounds and horsemen disappear, and little Rawdon remains on the doorsteps, wondering and happy. During the progress of this memorable holiday, little Rawdon, if he had got no special liking for his uncle, always awful and cold and locked up in his study, plunged in justice-business and surrounded by bailiffs and farmers--has gained the good graces of his married and maiden aunts, of the two little folks of the Hall, and of Jim of the Rectory, whom Sir Pitt is encouraging to pay his addresses to one of the young ladies, with an understanding doubtless that he shall be presented to the living when it shall be vacated by his fox-hunting old sire. Jim has given up that sport himself and confines himself to a little harmless duck- or snipe-shooting, or a little quiet trifling with the rats during the Christmas holidays, after which he will return to the University and try and not be plucked, once more. He has already eschewed green coats, red neckcloths, and other worldly ornaments, and is preparing himself for a change in his condition. In this cheap and thrifty way Sir Pitt tries to pay off his debt to his family. Also before this merry Christmas was over, the Baronet had screwed up courage enough to give his brother another draft on his bankers, and for no less a sum than a hundred pounds, an act which caused Sir Pitt cruel pangs at first, but which made him glow afterwards to think himself one of the most generous of men. Rawdon and his son went away with the utmost heaviness of heart. Becky and the ladies parted with some alacrity, however, and our friend returned to London to commence those avocations with which we find her occupied when this chapter begins. Under her care the Crawley House in Great Gaunt Street was quite rejuvenescent and ready for the reception of Sir Pitt and his family, when the Baronet came to London to attend his duties in Parliament and to assume that position in the country for which his vast genius fitted him. For the first session, this profound dissembler hid his projects and never opened his lips but to present a petition from Mudbury. But he attended assiduously in his place and learned thoroughly the routine and business of the House. At home he gave himself up to the perusal of Blue Books, to the alarm and wonder of Lady Jane, who thought he was killing himself by late hours and intense application. And he made acquaintance with the ministers, and the chiefs of his party, determining to rank as one of them before many years were over. Lady Jane's sweetness and kindness had inspired Rebecca with such a contempt for her ladyship as the little woman found no small difficulty in concealing. That sort of goodness and simplicity which Lady Jane possessed annoyed our friend Becky, and it was impossible for her at times not to show, or to let the other divine, her scorn. Her presence, too, rendered Lady Jane uneasy. Her husband talked constantly with Becky. Signs of intelligence seemed to pass between them, and Pitt spoke with her on subjects on which he never thought of discoursing with Lady Jane. The latter did not understand them, to be sure, but it was mortifying to remain silent; still more mortifying to know that you had nothing to say, and hear that little audacious Mrs. Rawdon dashing on from subject to subject, with a word for every man, and a joke always pat; and to sit in one's own house alone, by the fireside, and watching all the men round your rival. In the country, when Lady Jane was telling stories to the children, who clustered about her knees (little Rawdon into the bargain, who was very fond of her), and Becky came into the room, sneering with green scornful eyes, poor Lady Jane grew silent under those baleful glances. Her simple little fancies shrank away tremulously, as fairies in the story-books, before a superior bad angel. She could not go on, although Rebecca, with the smallest inflection of sarcasm in her voice, besought her to continue that charming story. And on her side gentle thoughts and simple pleasures were odious to Mrs. Becky; they discorded with her; she hated people for liking them; she spurned children and children-lovers. "I have no taste for bread and butter," she would say, when caricaturing Lady Jane and her ways to my Lord Steyne. "No more has a certain person for holy water," his lordship replied with a bow and a grin and a great jarring laugh afterwards. So these two ladies did not see much of each other except upon those occasions when the younger brother's wife, having an object to gain from the other, frequented her. They my-loved and my-deared each other assiduously, but kept apart generally, whereas Sir Pitt, in the midst of his multiplied avocations, found daily time to see his sister-in-law. On the occasion of his first Speaker's dinner, Sir Pitt took the opportunity of appearing before his sister-in-law in his uniform-- that old diplomatic suit which he had worn when attache to the Pumpernickel legation. Becky complimented him upon that dress and admired him almost as much as his own wife and children, to whom he displayed himself before he set out. She said that it was only the thoroughbred gentleman who could wear the Court suit with advantage: it was only your men of ancient race whom the culotte courte became. Pitt looked down with complacency at his legs, which had not, in truth, much more symmetry or swell than the lean Court sword which dangled by his side--looked down at his legs, and thought in his heart that he was killing. When he was gone, Mrs. Becky made a caricature of his figure, which she showed to Lord Steyne when he arrived. His lordship carried off the sketch, delighted with the accuracy of the resemblance. He had done Sir Pitt Crawley the honour to meet him at Mrs. Becky's house and had been most gracious to the new Baronet and member. Pitt was struck too by the deference with which the great Peer treated his sister-in-law, by her ease and sprightliness in the conversation, and by the delight with which the other men of the party listened to her talk. Lord Steyne made no doubt but that the Baronet had only commenced his career in public life, and expected rather anxiously to hear him as an orator; as they were neighbours (for Great Gaunt Street leads into Gaunt Square, whereof Gaunt House, as everybody knows, forms one side) my lord hoped that as soon as Lady Steyne arrived in London she would have the honour of making the acquaintance of Lady Crawley. He left a card upon his neighbour in the course of a day or two, having never thought fit to notice his predecessor, though they had lived near each other for near a century past. In the midst of these intrigues and fine parties and wise and brilliant personages Rawdon felt himself more and more isolated every day. He was allowed to go to the club more; to dine abroad with bachelor friends; to come and go when he liked, without any questions being asked. And he and Rawdon the younger many a time would walk to Gaunt Street and sit with the lady and the children there while Sir Pitt was closeted with Rebecca, on his way to the House, or on his return from it. The ex-Colonel would sit for hours in his brother's house very silent, and thinking and doing as little as possible. He was glad to be employed of an errand; to go and make inquiries about a horse or a servant, or to carve the roast mutton for the dinner of the children. He was beat and cowed into laziness and submission. Delilah had imprisoned him and cut his hair off, too. The bold and reckless young blood of ten-years back was subjugated and was turned into a torpid, submissive, middle-aged, stout gentleman. And poor Lady Jane was aware that Rebecca had captivated her husband, although she and Mrs. Rawdon my-deared and my-loved each other every day they met. 第 四 十 五 章    在汉泊郡和伦敦发生的事情     毕脱.克劳莱爵士除了在女王的克劳莱庄地上补篱笆和修理破败零落的门房之外,还做别的工作.他为人明理,当家以后连忙和以前得罪过的街坊邻舍重修旧好.他死了的父亲一辈子荒唐,不知道当家立计,弄得家里声名狼藉,这残局全靠他来收拾.父亲死后,他不久就当选了本区的国会代表.他身为区里的行政长官,有名儿的大人物,又是国会议员,世家后裔,因此自己担起责任,时常在汉泊郡的公共场所出面.区里的慈善事业,他资助得多,区里的邻舍,他拜访得勤.总之,他自以为是个奇才,在区里,以后甚至于在全国,都会出人头地,所以忙着为将来的事业打根基.他吩咐吉恩夫人和邻近的弗特尔斯顿和活泊夏脱等几个有名的从男爵家里多相与相与.这几家的马车如今常常在女王的克劳莱路上来去,这几家的主人也常常在大厦里做客人(他们的席面着实讲究,显见得吉恩夫人是不大下厨房的).毕脱夫妻出去回拜或是吃饭,不管天气好坏,路程远近,向来不辞劳苦.毕脱身体弱,胃口不好,为人又拘谨,不喜欢吃喝作乐,不过他认为在他地位上,应该随和些,少不得时常和人来往来往,请请客.每逢他在外面应酬,饭后坐得太久了头痛,他就觉得自己为责任而牺牲.他跟区里最有名的乡绅们谈论本年的收成,政界的新闻,还有限制谷类入口的法令.关于防止偷窃野味和养育鸟兽.厉行狩猎法的措置,他非常卖力,虽然从前在这方面他是个不可救药的自由主义者.他不打猎,而且根本不爱打猎,只喜欢文绉绉的看看书,可是他觉得住在乡下的人,有义务保持马匹的优良品种,因此对于狐狸的好坏也该留心.弗特尔斯顿家里的爷们爱打猎,毕脱的老朋友赫特尔斯顿.弗特尔斯顿从前常常带着一大群猎狗到女王的克劳莱的猎场上来打猎;如今毕脱表示对于他和他的朋友们都很欢迎.讲到宗教一方面,他的见解和正统教会的教理越来越接近,弄得莎吴塞唐夫人无法可施.他不再到处聚会讲道,毅然决然的上普通的教堂去做礼拜,而且还去拜访温却斯脱地方的主教和教会里的牧师.有一回,脱伦泊副总主教要和他一起玩牌,他竟一口应允.莎吴塞唐夫人眼看着女婿做出这样亵渎神明的事来,只当他成了个不可救药的罪人,心里那份儿烦恼也不消说了.毕脱从温却斯脱教堂听了圣乐回来,对两个妹妹说第二年区里开跳舞会的时候,他准备带她们一起去;姑娘们听了乐得感激涕零.吉恩夫人是一向对丈夫唯命是听的,而且看来她自己也愿意去.老夫人写了一封信到好望角给《芬却莱广场的洗衣妇人》的作者,狠狠毒毒的形容小女儿利欲熏心.那时她在布拉依顿的房子空出来了,她就一个人住到海边去,她的女儿女婿也没有觉得割舍不下.利蓓加第二次到女王的克劳莱,守着药箱的老太太已经走了,利蓓加虽然并不惦记她,居然写了一封信给她拜节.信上的口气非常恭敬;她说不知莎吴塞唐夫人可还记得她;她前次在乡下,老夫人对她说的话给她不少安慰,她至今觉得感激;她再三提到上次病中多承老夫人照应,而且说女王的克劳莱的一切都使她想念她.     毕脱.克劳莱爵士怎么会改变作风,大得人心的呢?这件事大半得归功于克生街的主妇.毕脱在伦敦住在她家里的时候她劝他说:"难道你只要一个从男爵的爵位,一辈子在乡下做做寓公就算了不成?毕脱.克劳莱爵士,你瞒不过我的.我知道你的才干和野心.你以为人家看不出,可是骗不了我.我把你那本关于麦芽的小册子给斯丹恩勋爵看过了.原来他老早知道这本书;他说内阁里的官儿都认为它是这方面最出色的作品.部长们看上了你了.你的志向我也知道,你想在国会里出头露角.人人都说你是全国最了不起的演说家,因为你在牛津的演讲大家都没有忘记.我知道你想做你们区里的国会代表;这样,你自己有选举权,又有区里的人给你撑腰,还有什么事不成的?我也知道你想做女王的克劳莱的男爵;这件事,总有一天会成功.毕脱爵士,你的心思我都明白.如果我的丈夫不但有你的名字,而且有你的才干,我想我也能够配得上他,可是......可是我是你的本家,"她笑着加了一句道."我是个一个子儿都没有的小可怜儿,可是我也有些小势力.谁说得定,也许小耗子也有帮助狮子的去处呢?"     毕脱.克劳莱一听这话,又喜又惊.他想:"这女人才是真正懂得我的.我那本关于麦芽的小册子吉恩再也看不满三页.我的大才,我的壮志雄心,她也不知道.哦,原来他们还记得我在牛津的演讲.这些坏东西!他们看我做了区里的代表,或许还能做国会的议员,就想起我来了.斯丹恩勋爵去年在宫里见了我睬都不睬.原来他们现在才发现毕脱.克劳莱是个人才.哼!这些人小看我,我的才干可一向不小,不过没有机会出头罢了.现在我得把本事拿出来,叫他们知道我不但能写,而且能说能做.阿喀琉斯(特洛亚战争中最勇敢的英雄.)虽然英雄,也得有了宝剑才能大显身手啊.我的宝剑已经到手了,将来全世界的人都会听见毕脱.克劳莱的名字."     因为这样,这手段刁滑的家伙才变得那么好客.他对于歌咏团和医院的代表谦恭有礼,对于副主教们和牧师们也十分和气.他放开手大张筵席请客,别人请他他也不推辞.在市集上遇见种地的庄稼汉,他全副精神敷衍他们,并且为区里的事务尽心奔走.到圣诞节,大厦里装点得花团锦簇,多少年来没有看见这景象了.     圣诞日那天合家欢聚.所有牧师家里的人都来吃饭.利蓓加对别德太太又诚恳又和气,竟好像和她向来无冤无仇.她怪亲热的问起亲爱的妹妹们近来好不好,说她们在音乐方面有惊人的进步,而且在她们双人合唱之后再三请她们再唱一遍(她们用的那大唱歌本儿还是詹姆士从家里挟过来的,恨得他一路上不住的咕唧).别德太太虽然恨利蓓加到处钻营,可是看她那么大方,自己倒也不得不以礼相待.回家以后,她当然对女儿们批评毕脱爵士,说他对小婶子那么敬重,真是可笑.詹姆士在吃饭的时候坐在利蓓加旁边,极口夸她了不起.牧师全家的人众口一辞,都称赞小罗登长得好.万一那瘦弱苍白的毕脱.平葛有三长两短,世袭的前程少不了是他的,所以牧师家里的人对他很敬重.     三个孩子的感情非常好.毕脱.平葛不过是一只很小的小狗,配不上和罗登这样的大狗一起玩;玛蒂尔达又是个女孩儿,也不够资格和这个年纪将近八岁.快要穿短上装的青年公子做伴.这样,罗登立刻拜了大王.只要他肯赏脸带着堂弟弟堂妹妹一起玩,那两个小的便依头顺脑的跟着他.他在乡下过得快活高兴,心满意足.厨房后面的院子好玩的不得了;种着的花儿也不错;家里又养着鸽子,鸡鸭,有时大人还准他去看马房里的马,这些东西没有一样不有趣.他不让两位克劳莱小姐吻他;不过有时吉恩夫人要抱抱他,他还不反对.晚饭后太太们先到客厅里去歇着,让先生们留在饭间里喝红酒,小罗登跟着出来,宁可坐在吉恩夫人身边,不愿意跟着自己的妈妈.利蓓加看见大家全是温温柔柔的,一天晚上把小罗登叫到身边,弯下身子当着太太小姐们在儿子脸上吻了一下.     罗登立刻回过身来,对面瞧着妈妈.他脸上涨得通红,身上索索地抖,每逢他受了激动,就是这样.他说道:"妈妈,你在家里从来不吻我."一听这话,大家都吃了一惊,半晌不说话,蓓基眼睛里的神色着实难看.     罗登因为嫂子待自己的儿子好,所以很喜欢她.吉恩夫人和蓓基两个人的感情似乎不怎么融洽,上校的老婆第一回到乡下的时候,一心要讨主妇的好,这一回可不同了.吉恩夫人听了孩子的两句话心里已经凉了一截;说不定又嫌毕脱爵士对弟妇太殷勤.小罗登这样年龄,这样大小的孩子,总喜欢跟着男人,每逢他父亲到马房里去抽雪茄烟,他老是跟着一块儿去,从来不觉得厌倦.牧师的儿子詹姆士,有时来找堂哥哥,或是一起抽烟,或是找别的消遣.他和从男爵的猪场看守人气味相投,都喜欢养狗,因此合得来.有一天,詹姆士先生.上校和看守猎场的霍恩出去打野鸡,把小罗登也带着一块儿去.又有一天早上,好乐呀!这四位先生到仓房里去打耗子,小罗登一辈子没见过比这个更有意思的游戏.他们先把水管的一头堵死了,又把�槭蟠用挥卸滤赖囊煌贩沤�去,然后静静的举起棍子等着.詹姆士先生有名的小狗福息泊斯兴奋得了不得,举起了一条腿,屏住气一动也不动,静听着地底下吱吱的耗子叫.那些耗子给赶得走投无路,只好拚死逃命,从管子里直窜上来.狗拿住了一只,看守猎场的霍恩也打死了一只,罗登因为太兴奋太紧张,没打着耗子,反而把一只�槭蟠虻冒胨�.     又有一天,赫特尔斯顿.弗特尔斯顿爵士出去打猎,他的一群猎狗到女王的克劳莱草坪上会合.那才是最了不起的日子.     小罗登看得着迷了.到十点半,赫特尔斯顿.弗特尔斯顿爵士的猎户汤姆.牡迪骑着马一路跑来,后面跟着一群贵种猎狗,紧紧的挤在一起.后面是两个管猎狗的小猎人,穿着大红衣服.这两人是小个子,长相很难看,都骑看好种的瘦马.倘或猎狗里面有敢离群跑散的,或是看见野兔家兔在他们面前跳出来而不能把持的......即使对兔儿白看一眼或是把眼睛眨巴了一下都不行......这两人就举起又长又重的鞭子,把鞭梢向狗身上皮薄的地方抽,手法真是巧妙极了.     压队的是汤姆.牡迪的儿子贾克.他只有七十磅重,八十四英�旮�,而且以后也没有希望长高长胖.他骑一匹瘦骨伶仃的大马,用的鞍子很大,把马背遮掉了一半.这是赫特尔斯顿.弗特尔斯顿爵士心爱的猎马,名叫大老官.还有好些别的猎马,上面坐着身量瘦小的男孩子,也陆续来了,只等主人来临.主人们走在后面,也到此地会合.     汤姆.牡迪一直来到大厦门口,管酒的拿出酒来请他喝,可是他不喝,自己带着猎狗在卓坪上有遮拦的犄角里去歇着.那些猎狗有的在草地上打滚,有的其势汹汹的对吠,有的在一处玩,不时会狠狠的打起架来.汤姆呵斥的声音是谁也比不上的,他开口一喝,或是把蛇一般的鞭子一挥,猎狗就不敢闹了.     许多青年公子骑着普通用的马跑来了,这些马虽不能打猎,也是上好的纯种.出猎的人齐膝裹着护腿,有的到屋子里去和太太小姐应酬一下,喝些樱桃白兰地;有的比较怕羞,而且爱动不爱静,忙着脱了泥污的靴子,下了坐骑,换上猎马,沿着草坪先跑一圈活活血.这以后他们聚在犄角上那群猎狗旁边和汤姆.牡迪聊天,谈到从前的猎事,野外的情形,嗅香和金刚钻这两条狗的好坏,又抱怨目前狐狸的品种多么糟糕.     不久,赫特尔斯顿爵士骑着一匹伶俐的矮种肥马来了.他一直跑到大厦门口下了马,先进屋子和太太们应酬了一番.他向来不爱说话,敷衍过几句之后便去干正经.一群猎狗给赶到门口,小罗登走下去,那些猎狗便挨着他的身子擦过来磨过去,表示好意,大伙儿乱摇着尾巴,劈劈扑扑打在他身上,有的叫着闹着打架,汤姆.牡迪的呵斥和鞭子也不怎么有用.小罗登又兴奋,又有些害怕.     赫特尔斯顿爵士费了一把力气爬到大老官背上骑好,说道:"汤姆,今天到沙吴斯脱树林子去试试吧,种田的孟加尔告诉我说里头有两只狐狸藏着呢."汤姆把号角一吹,骑着马先跑,后面跟着猎狗.小猎人和温却斯脱的少爷们.还有邻近种地的和教区里做工的也来了;那天算他们的大节日,所以他们一起在后面跟着走.赫特尔斯顿爵士和克劳莱上校压队;大队人马一会儿跑得无影无踪.     别德.克劳莱牧师不好意思到侄儿家里来参加大会合(汤姆.牡迪还记得四十年前的事,那时牧师先生身材很瘦,最喜欢骑着烈马四处乱跑,不论多宽的溪流都要跳过了才罢,看见新装的园门也不肯放过去)......我刚才说到牧师不好意思上侄儿家里来,凑着赫特尔斯顿爵士路过他家,便骑着强壮的黑马从家里的弄口跑出来,跟着从男爵一队人马出发.猎狗和骑马的人已经走远了,小罗登仍旧站在台阶上,又惊奇,又快乐.     小罗登在乡下过了一个难忘的圣诞节,对于大伯伯却没有什么感情,因为他总是冷冰冰的令人害怕,不是锁在书房里用功,便是和地保农夫在一起排解区里面各种纠纷.孩子的大娘.姑妈.堂弟堂妹,和牧师家的詹姆士,人人喜欢他.毕脱爵士要詹姆士在两个妹妹之中挑一个做老婆,大约早已和他说开,在这样的条件之下,到他爱打猎的父亲去世之后,让他补上去做牧师.如今詹姆士不猎狐狸了;不过找些无伤大雅的消遣,譬如打打竹鸡野鸭,或是在圣诞节偶然捉一两回老鼠,一点儿也不惊师动众.他准备圣诞节之后回到学校里去用功读书,勉强得个及格分数.他现在不穿绿外衣,不戴红领带,一切花哨的打扮都撩开手了.将来要做牧师,现在少不得有个准备.毕脱爵士独占了大家的财产,愿意补偿他们的损失,想出这样又省钱又上算的法子来.     快乐的圣诞节还没有过完,从男爵就鼓起勇气签给弟弟一张支票,送了他整整一百镑.起先他觉得扎心的难受,后来想想自己这份儿慷慨真是世上少有,又得意起来.罗登爷儿俩回家的时候心里沉重极了,蓓基却没什么舍不得,干干脆脆的和太太小姐们道了再见.她回到伦敦之后便开始工作;她的成绩在本章开始的时候已经说过.大岗脱街的克劳莱大厦给她料理得焕然一新,只等毕脱爵士一家上城的时候住进去.从男爵不久便搬到伦敦来,开始上国会办公,像他这样胸怀大才的人,应该在国会里占个重要的地位才是.     毕脱爵士城府很深,议院第一期开会的时候,他没有把满腹的韬略让别人知道,除了代墨特白莱的居民请愿之外一句不开口.他勤勤谨谨,逢会必到,把议院里的惯例公事学了个透熟.在家的时候,他孜孜不倦的研究蓝皮书,吉恩夫人又佩服,又着急,想他睡得晚,又用脑子,只怕他伤了身体.他结识了各位部长和本党的首脑,立志在不多几年以内爬到和他们一样的地位上去.     利蓓加最瞧不起的是吉恩夫人这样温良贤淑的女人,她心里的轻蔑可不是容容易易遮掩得起来的.吉恩夫人的纯朴和敦厚使我们的朋友蓓基瞧着老大不耐烦,往往脸上便要带出来.吉恩夫人一看就知道自己不入她的眼,在她面前觉得手足无措.她的丈夫老是和蓓基说话;他们两个好像另外有暗号,谈论的全是正经大事,毕脱一辈子不会对老婆说的.外面的事,吉恩夫人当然不大懂,可是愣着不说话总觉得面子上不好看.最糟糕的是她明明知道自己没的可说,只好干瞧着罗登的女人侃侃而谈,天南地北的大发议论.利蓓加和随便什么人都有话可谈,说的笑话没有一个不对景儿.自己是主妇,反而只能一个人坐在火炉旁边,眼看着所有的男人簇拥着利蓓加献殷勤,心里怎么会不懊恼呢?     有一回在乡下,孩子们围着吉恩夫人听她讲故事.小罗登最喜欢她,也挨着她.蓓基走进来,一双绿眼睛里满是尖酸刻薄的表情,可怜的吉恩夫人看她眼色来得恶毒,一句话都说不出来,她自己编的简单的故事也像童话里的神仙碰见了恶魔,吓得影踪全无.利蓓加声音里带着一丝冷笑,再三请她把那怪有趣的故事说下去,可是她再也不能继续下去了.蓓基不耐烦忠厚人,讨厌家常的乐趣,因为这和她格格不入,谁喜欢这一套东西的少不得也要遭她的白眼.譬如小孩子和喜欢小孩子的人她就恨不得一脚踢开.她对斯丹恩勋爵模仿吉恩夫人的举止,故意夸张她种种可笑的地方,而且每次总加上一句:"有些人乏味得像白水煮豆腐,我可不喜欢."     勋爵嬉皮扯脸的对她一鞠躬,回答道:"犹之乎魔鬼不喜欢圣水."说完,他哈哈大笑,声音响得刺耳.     妯娌两个不大见面,除非利蓓加有求于嫂子,才去找她.她们两人你叫我亲爱的,我叫你亲爱的,表面上和睦得很,可是平时难得来往.毕脱爵士虽然事情一天比一天忙,却是每天抽空去拜望弟媳妇.     毕脱爵士在国会第一次登台演说以后请客,特地穿上大礼服(就是他在本浦聂格尔领事馆做参赞时穿的外交官服饰),到弟媳妇家里去走了一转.     蓓基满口奉承,称赞他的衣服,像他自己的妻子儿女一样崇拜他......他出发之前先给家里人看过的.她说只有真正的上等人穿上官廷礼服才敦品;这种裤子,除了出身旧家的公子谁也不配穿.毕脱低头望望自己的腿,觉得很得意,其实他的腿长得既不匀称,上下又没有粗细,跟他身边挂着的宝剑差不多.他望望自己的腿,自以为有勾魂摄魄的能耐.     他告辞之后,蓓基太太替他画了一张全身的讽刺画,后来斯丹恩勋爵来了,她就拿给他看.勋爵一看那画儿和毕脱一模一样,心里好笑,向蓓基讨了带回家去.他对于这个新袭爵位新当议员的毕脱爵士十分赏脸,居然在蓓基家里见了他一面,而且对他很客气.毕脱看见了不起的贵族对着自己的弟媳妇那么恭敬,而且她谈吐洒落风趣,宴会上人人喜欢听她说话,心里也觉得敬畏.斯丹恩勋爵和毕脱爵士应酬了一回,说起他还是初入官场,很希望不久就能听见他演说.勋爵又说他们两家既然是紧邻(大岗脱街直通岗脱广场,大家都知道单是岗脱大厦就占了广场的一边),等斯丹恩夫人到伦敦之后希望见见克劳莱夫人.过了一两天,他又在毕脱家里留了一张名片.毕脱老爵士在世的时候,他从来没有睬过他,虽然一百年来这两家一向是邻居.     豪华的宴会,聪明出众的大人物,一切弄权术耍手段的事,都和罗登格格不久,他自己只觉得一天比一天寂寞.现在他尽不妨常到俱乐部去,和单身朋友一块儿吃饭,爱什么时候回家,什么时候出门,从来没有人过问.他和小罗登常常散步到大岗脱街和嫂子.侄儿.侄女做伴.毕脱爵士不论到国会之前或是从国会出来,总是去找利蓓加.     上校时常悄没声儿的坐在他哥哥家里,一坐好几个钟头,能够不用脑子的时候就不用脑子,能够不做事的时候就不做事.他很愿意给人使唤出去跑跑腿,找找房子和佣人,或是在孩子们吃饭的时候帮他们切切烤羊肉.他仿佛给人折磨得没了脾气,现在是人说什么,他做什么,人拨他一下,他才动一动.大利拉(见第１９０页注释②.)不但软禁了他,而且把他的头发也剃光了.十年前天不收地不管的花花公子已经给人制得服服帖帖,成了个麻木.顺从.肥胖的中年汉子.     可怜的吉恩夫人明明知道自己的丈夫也着了利蓓加的迷,不过每逢罗登太太和她见面的时候,她们两人还是你叫我亲爱的,我叫你亲爱的,相处得非常和睦.

CHAPTER XLVI Struggles and Trials Our friends at Brompton were meanwhile passing their Christmas after their fashion and in a manner by no means too cheerful. Out of the hundred pounds a year, which was about the amount of her income, the Widow Osborne had been in the habit of giving up nearly three-fourths to her father and mother, for the expenses of herself and her little boy. With #120 more, supplied by Jos, this family of four people, attended by a single Irish servant who also did for Clapp and his wife, might manage to live in decent comfort through the year, and hold up their heads yet, and be able to give a friend a dish of tea still, after the storms and disappointments of their early life. Sedley still maintained his ascendency over the family of Mr. Clapp, his ex-clerk. Clapp remembered the time when, sitting on the edge of the chair, he tossed off a bumper to the health of "Mrs. S--, Miss Emmy, and Mr. Joseph in India," at the merchant's rich table in Russell Square. Time magnified the splendour of those recollections in the honest clerk's bosom. Whenever he came up from the kitchen-parlour to the drawing-room and partook of tea or gin- and-water with Mr. Sedley, he would say, "This was not what you was accustomed to once, sir," and as gravely and reverentially drink the health of the ladies as he had done in the days of their utmost prosperity. He thought Miss 'Melia's playing the divinest music ever performed, and her the finest lady. He never would sit down before Sedley at the club even, nor would he have that gentleman's character abused by any member of the society. He had seen the first men in London shaking hands with Mr. S--; he said, "He'd known him in times when Rothschild might be seen on 'Change with him any day, and he owed him personally everythink." Clapp, with the best of characters and handwritings, had been able very soon after his master's disaster to find other employment for himself. "Such a little fish as me can swim in any bucket," he used to remark, and a member of the house from which old Sedley had seceded was very glad to make use of Mr. Clapp's services and to reward them with a comfortable salary. In fine, all Sedley's wealthy friends had dropped off one by one, and this poor ex- dependent still remained faithfully attached to him. Out of the small residue of her income which Amelia kept back for herself, the widow had need of all the thrift and care possible in order to enable her to keep her darling boy dressed in such a manner as became George Osborne's son, and to defray the expenses of the little school to which, after much misgiving and reluctance and many secret pangs and fears on her own part, she had been induced to send the lad. She had sat up of nights conning lessons and spelling over crabbed grammars and geography books in order to teach them to Georgy. She had worked even at the Latin accidence, fondly hoping that she might be capable of instructing him in that language. To part with him all day, to send him out to the mercy of a schoolmaster's cane and his schoolfellows' roughness, was almost like weaning him over again to that weak mother, so tremulous and full of sensibility. He, for his part, rushed off to the school with the utmost happiness. He was longing for the change. That childish gladness wounded his mother, who was herself so grieved to part with him. She would rather have had him more sorry, she thought, and then was deeply repentant within herself for daring to be so selfish as to wish her own son to be unhappy. Georgy made great progress in the school, which was kept by a friend of his mother's constant admirer, the Rev. Mr. Binny. He brought home numberless prizes and testimonials of ability. He told his mother countless stories every night about his school-companions: and what a fine fellow Lyons was, and what a sneak Sniffin was, and how Steel's father actually supplied the meat for the establishment, whereas Golding's mother came in a carriage to fetch him every Saturday, and how Neat had straps to his trowsers--might he have straps?--and how Bull Major was so strong (though only in Eutropius) that it was believed he could lick the Usher, Mr. Ward, himself. So Amelia learned to know every one of the boys in that school as well as Georgy himself, and of nights she used to help him in his exercises and puzzle her little head over his lessons as eagerly as if she was herself going in the morning into the presence of the master. Once, after a certain combat with Master Smith, George came home to his mother with a black eye, and bragged prodigiously to his parent and his delighted old grandfather about his valour in the fight, in which, if the truth was known he did not behave with particular heroism, and in which he decidedly had the worst. But Amelia has never forgiven that Smith to this day, though he is now a peaceful apothecary near Leicester Square. In these quiet labours and harmless cares the gentle widow's life was passing away, a silver hair or two marking the progress of time on her head and a line deepening ever so little on her fair forehead. She used to smile at these marks of time. "What matters it," she asked, "For an old woman like me?" All she hoped for was to live to see her son great, famous, and glorious, as he deserved to be. She kept his copy-books, his drawings, and compositions, and showed them about in her little circle as if they were miracles of genius. She confided some of these specimens to Miss Dobbin, to show them to Miss Osborne, George's aunt, to show them to Mr. Osborne himself--to make that old man repent of his cruelty and ill feeling towards him who was gone. All her husband's faults and foibles she had buried in the grave with him: she only remembered the lover, who had married her at all sacrifices, the noble husband, so brave and beautiful, in whose arms she had hung on the morning when he had gone away to fight, and die gloriously for his king. From heaven the hero must be smiling down upon that paragon of a boy whom he had left to comfort and console her. We have seen how one of George's grandfathers (Mr. Osborne), in his easy chair in Russell Square, daily grew more violent and moody, and how his daughter, with her fine carriage, and her fine horses, and her name on half the public charity-lists of the town, was a lonely, miserable, persecuted old maid. She thought again and again of the beautiful little boy, her brother's son, whom she had seen. She longed to be allowed to drive in the fine carriage to the house in which he lived, and she used to look out day after day as she took her solitary drive in the park, in hopes that she might see him. Her sister, the banker's lady, occasionally condescended to pay her old home and companion a visit in Russell Square. She brought a couple of sickly children attended by a prim nurse, and in a faint genteel giggling tone cackled to her sister about her fine acquaintance, and how her little Frederick was the image of Lord Claud Lollypop and her sweet Maria had been noticed by the Baroness as they were driving in their donkey-chaise at Roehampton. She urged her to make her papa do something for the darlings. Frederick she had determined should go into the Guards; and if they made an elder son of him (and Mr. Bullock was positively ruining and pinching himself to death to buy land), how was the darling girl to be provided for? "I expect YOU, dear," Mrs. Bullock would say, "for of course my share of our Papa's property must go to the head of the house, you know. Dear Rhoda McMull will disengage the whole of the Castletoddy property as soon as poor dear Lord Castletoddy dies, who is quite epileptic; and little Macduff McMull will be Viscount Castletoddy. Both the Mr. Bludyers of Mincing Lane have settled their fortunes on Fanny Bludyer's little boy. My darling Frederick must positively be an eldest son; and--and do ask Papa to bring us back his account in Lombard Street, will you, dear? It doesn't look well, his going to Stumpy and Rowdy's." After which kind of speeches, in which fashion and the main chance were blended together, and after a kiss, which was like the contact of an oyster--Mrs. Frederick Bullock would gather her starched nurslings and simper back into her carriage. Every visit which this leader of ton paid to her family was more unlucky for her. Her father paid more money into Stumpy and Rowdy's. Her patronage became more and more insufferable. The poor widow in the little cottage at Brompton, guarding her treasure there, little knew how eagerly some people coveted it. On that night when Jane Osborne had told her father that she had seen his grandson, the old man had made her no reply, but he had shown no anger--and had bade her good-night on going himself to his room in rather a kindly voice. And he must have meditated on what she said and have made some inquiries of the Dobbin family regarding her visit, for a fortnight after it took place, he asked her where was her little French watch and chain she used to wear? "I bought it with my money, sir," she said in a great fright. "Go and order another like it, or a better if you can get it," said the old gentleman and lapsed again into silence. Of late the Misses Dobbin more than once repeated their entreaties to Amelia, to allow George to visit them. His aunt had shown her inclination; perhaps his grandfather himself, they hinted, might be disposed to be reconciled to him. Surely, Amelia could not refuse such advantageous chances for the boy. Nor could she, but she acceded to their overtures with a very heavy and suspicious heart, was always uneasy during the child's absence from her, and welcomed him back as if he was rescued out of some danger. He brought back money and toys, at which the widow looked with alarm and jealousy; she asked him always if he had seen any gentleman--"Only old Sir William, who drove him about in the four-wheeled chaise, and Mr. Dobbin, who arrived on the beautiful bay horse in the afternoon--in the green coat and pink neck-cloth, with the gold-headed whip, who promised to show him the Tower of London and take him out with the Surrey hounds." At last, he said, "There was an old gentleman, with thick eyebrows, and a broad hat, and large chain and seals." He came one day as the coachman was lunging Georgy round the lawn on the gray pony. "He looked at me very much. He shook very much. I said 'My name is Norval' after dinner. My aunt began to cry. She is always crying." Such was George's report on that night. Then Amelia knew that the boy had seen his grandfather; and looked out feverishly for a proposal which she was sure would follow, and which came, in fact, in a few days afterwards. Mr. Osborne formally offered to take the boy and make him heir to the fortune which he had intended that his father should inherit. He would make Mrs. George Osborne an allowance, such as to assure her a decent competency. If Mrs. George Osborne proposed to marry again, as Mr. O. heard was her intention, he would not withdraw that allowance. But it must be understood that the child would live entirely with his grandfather in Russell Square, or at whatever other place Mr. O. should select, and that he would be occasionally permitted to see Mrs. George Osborne at her own residence. This message was brought or read to her in a letter one day, when her mother was from home and her father absent as usual in the City. She was never seen angry but twice or thrice in her life, and it was in one of these moods that Mr. Osborne's attorney had the fortune to behold her. She rose up trembling and flushing very much as soon as, after reading the letter, Mr. Poe handed it to her, and she tore the paper into a hundred fragments, which she trod on. "I marry again! I take money to part from my child! Who dares insult me by proposing such a thing? Tell Mr. Osborne it is a cowardly letter, sir--a cowardly letter--I will not answer it. I wish you good morning, sir--and she bowed me out of the room like a tragedy Queen," said the lawyer who told the story. Her parents never remarked her agitation on that day, and she never told them of the interview. They had their own affairs to interest them, affairs which deeply interested this innocent and unconscious lady. The old gentleman, her father, was always dabbling in speculation. We have seen how the wine company and the coal company had failed him. But, prowling about the City always eagerly and restlessly still, he lighted upon some other scheme, of which he thought so well that he embarked in it in spite of the remonstrances of Mr. Clapp, to whom indeed he never dared to tell how far he had engaged himself in it. And as it was always Mr. Sedley's maxim not to talk about money matters before women, they had no inkling of the misfortunes that were in store for them until the unhappy old gentleman was forced to make gradual confessions. The bills of the little household, which had been settled weekly, first fell into arrear. The remittances had not arrived from India, Mr. Sedley told his wife with a disturbed face. As she had paid her bills very regularly hitherto, one or two of the tradesmen to whom the poor lady was obliged to go round asking for time were very angry at a delay to which they were perfectly used from more irregular customers. Emmy's contribution, paid over cheerfully without any questions, kept the little company in half-rations however. And the first six months passed away pretty easily, old Sedley still keeping up with the notion that his shares must rise and that all would be well. No sixty pounds, however, came to help the household at the end of the half year, and it fell deeper and deeper into trouble--Mrs. Sedley, who was growing infirm and was much shaken, remained silent or wept a great deal with Mrs. Clapp in the kitchen. The butcher was particularly surly, the grocer insolent: once or twice little Georgy had grumbled about the dinners, and Amelia, who still would have been satisfied with a slice of bread for her own dinner, could not but perceive that her son was neglected and purchased little things out of her private purse to keep the boy in health. At last they told her, or told her such a garbled story as people in difficulties tell. One day, her own money having been received, and Amelia about to pay it over, she, who had kept an account of the moneys expended by her, proposed to keep a certain portion back out of her dividend, having contracted engagements for a new suit for Georgy. Then it came out that Jos's remittances were not paid, that the house was in difficulties, which Amelia ought to have seen before, her mother said, but she cared for nothing or nobody except Georgy. At this she passed all her money across the table, without a word, to her mother, and returned to her room to cry her eyes out. She had a great access of sensibility too that day, when obliged to go and countermand the clothes, the darling clothes on which she had set her heart for Christmas Day, and the cut and fashion of which she had arranged in many conversations with a small milliner, her friend. Hardest of all, she had to break the matter to Georgy, who made a loud outcry. Everybody had new clothes at Christmas. The others would laugh at him. He would have new clothes. She had promised them to him. The poor widow had only kisses to give him. She darned the old suit in tears. She cast about among her little ornaments to see if she could sell anything to procure the desired novelties. There was her India shawl that Dobbin had sent her. She remembered in former days going with her mother to a fine India shop on Ludgate Hill, where the ladies had all sorts of dealings and bargains in these articles. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes shone with pleasure as she thought of this resource, and she kissed away George to school in the morning, smiling brightly after him. The boy felt that there was good news in her look. Packing up her shawl in a handkerchief (another of the gifts of the good Major), she hid them under her cloak and walked flushed and eager all the way to Ludgate Hill, tripping along by the park wall and running over the crossings, so that many a man turned as she hurried by him and looked after her rosy pretty face. She calculated how she should spend the proceeds of her shawl--how, besides the clothes, she would buy the books that he longed for, and pay his half-year's schooling; and how she would buy a cloak for her father instead of that old great-coat which he wore. She was not mistaken as to the value of the Major's gift. It was a very fine and beautiful web, and the merchant made a very good bargain when he gave her twenty guineas for her shawl. She ran on amazed and flurried with her riches to Darton's shop, in St. Paul's Churchyard, and there purchased the Parents' Assistant and the Sandford and Merton Georgy longed for, and got into the coach there with her parcel, and went home exulting. And she pleased herself by writing in the fly-leaf in her neatest little hand, "George Osborne, A Christmas gift from his affectionate- mother." The books are extant to this day, with the fair delicate superscription. She was going from her own room with the books in her hand to place them on George's table, where he might find them on his return from school, when in the passage, she and her mother met. The gilt bindings of the seven handsome little volumes caught the old lady's eye. "What are those?" she said. "Some books for Georgy," Amelia replied--I--I promised them to him at Christmas." "Books!" cried the elder lady indignantly, "Books, when the whole house wants bread! Books, when to keep you and your son in luxury, and your dear father out of gaol, I've sold every trinket I had, the India shawl from my back even down to the very spoons, that our tradesmen mightn't insult us, and that Mr. Clapp, which indeed he is justly entitled, being not a hard landlord, and a civil man, and a father, might have his rent. Oh, Amelia! you break my heart with your books and that boy of yours, whom you are ruining, though part with him you will not. Oh, Amelia, may God send you a more dutiful child than I have had! There's Jos, deserts his father in his old age; and there's George, who might be provided for, and who might be rich, going to school like a lord, with a gold watch and chain round his neck--while my dear, dear old man is without a sh--shilling." Hysteric sobs and cries ended Mrs. Sedley's speech--it echoed through every room in the small house, whereof the other female inmates heard every word of the colloquy. "Oh, Mother, Mother!" cried poor Amelia in reply. "You told me nothing--I--I promised him the books. I--I only sold my shawl this morning. Take the money--take everything"--and with quivering hands she took out her silver, and her sovereigns--her precious golden sovereigns, which she thrust into the hands of her mother, whence they overflowed and tumbled, rolling down the stairs. And then she went into her room, and sank down in despair and utter misery. She saw it all now. Her selfishness was sacrificing the boy. But for her he might have wealth, station, education, and his father's place, which the elder George had forfeited for her sake. She had but to speak the words, and her father was restored to competency and the boy raised to fortune. Oh, what a conviction it was to that tender and stricken heart! 第 四 十 六 章    风 波 和 灾 难     住在白朗浦顿的朋友们这时也在对付着过圣诞节,不过说不上有什么快乐.     奥斯本太太守寡之后,每年有一百镑的收入,这里面倒得拿出四分之三来贴在家里做他们娘儿两人的食用.乔斯一年给父母一百二十镑.一家四口,雇了个包做一切杂事的爱尔兰女佣人(她也兼做克拉浦夫妇的佣人),过得还算舒服,不必去求亲告友,有客的时候也能拿点儿茶点出来.他们经过了早年的风波苦难,居然能够安稳度日.赛特笠从前的书记克拉浦先生和他家里的人依旧很尊敬他.克拉浦还没有忘记当年赛特笠先生在勒塞尔广场摆了丰盛的酒席请他们吃,他恭恭敬敬坐在椅子边上,喝着酒祝"赛特笠太太,爱米小姐,还有在印度的乔瑟夫先生"身体健康.日子隔得一久,这忠厚的书记越想越觉得当年真是盛况空前.有时他从楼下兼做会客室的厨房里走上来,坐在赛特笠先生的小客厅里,两个人一起喝茶或是搀水的杜松子酒,他就说:"你老人家从前过的可不是这样的日子."他喝着酒替太太小姐上寿,那又恭敬又正经的样子,和她们飞黄腾达的时候没有差别.在他心目之中,爱米丽亚弹的琴便是最美妙的音乐,她本人也是最尊贵的少奶奶.当着赛特笠先生,他从来不肯先坐,甚至于在他们的俱乐部里也是这样.随便什么人批评了赛特笠的人品,他决不罢休.他说他曾经瞧见伦敦第一流的人物跟赛特笠先生拉过手;他又说:"我从前认识赛特笠先生的时候,他在证券市场常常跟有名的大财主洛施却哀尔特在一起的.我有今天,还不是全靠他!"     克拉浦品行端方,一笔字又写的好,因此主人坏了事以后不久就找到了别的工作.他常说:"像我这样的小鱼,随便在什么水桶里都能游来游去."赛特笠老头儿脱离出来的商行之中有一个股东雇了克拉浦先生,而且给他相当丰厚的薪水.总之,赛特笠的有钱朋友慢慢的都不理他了,只有从前靠他过活的穷职员对他忠诚不变.     爱米丽亚自己留下的一部分进款数目极小,尽量的节省,才能把亲爱的儿子打扮得合乎乔治.奥斯本的儿子的身分.此外她还得付小学的学杂费.乔杰进学校之前,爱米丽亚多少个不放心,又着急,又心疼,最后才勉强让他去了.她晚上熬夜读书,苦苦的抱着烦难的文法书和地理书,指望自己给乔杰补课.她甚至于学着念拉丁文的文法入门,痴心妄想的准备教儿子读拉丁文.爱米丽亚是个软弱的人,胆子又小,又生成多愁善感的性格,现在和儿子一天到晚不见面,想着老师也许会打他,同学们又粗野,说不定要欺负他,真像给他断奶的时候一样心疼.孩子是巴不得换换环境,急着要进学校,离了家里高兴的不得了.做母亲的自己舍不得儿子,看着孩子那么高兴反而觉得伤心.她心底里宁愿孩子也觉得难受些.可是转念一想自己这样自私,竟会希望儿子不快乐,又悔恨起来.     乔杰的校长,就是忠心耿耿追求爱米丽亚的平尼牧师的朋友.乔杰在学校里进步很快,时常带着许多奖品回来,足见他能力是高的.每天晚上,他对母亲滔滔不绝的议论同学的事情:里昂士是个了不起的好人;斯尼芬斯是个鬼鬼祟祟的家伙;校里吃的肉全是向斯蒂尔的爸爸买的;高尔汀的妈妈每星期六坐了马车来接他;尼脱的裤脚上装着皮带,可以绕着鞋底扣起来,他也想要;卜尔.梅杰真厉害,大家都说连助教窝德先生都打他不过,虽然他班次不高,现在不过念幼脱劳比斯的罗马史.渐渐的,爱米丽亚对于学校里的孩子竟和乔杰一样熟悉了.到黄昏,她帮他做习题,用尽心思替他准备功课,竟像第二天早上她自己要去交代功课似的.有一次,乔治和一个叫斯密思的同学打架,眼睛都打青了.他对母亲和外公信口开河,把自己的勇气大吹了一通,外公听了十分得意.其实打架的时候他很泄气,而且老大吃亏.那个斯密思现在在雷士德广场附近做医生,为人很和平,可是爱米丽亚至今没有饶恕他.     温柔的寡妇就这样不声不响的管家和抚养孩子,为无关紧要的事情操操心,慢慢的老了.日子一天天过去,她的头发里面已经夹了一两根银丝,漂亮的脑门儿上面也有了一点儿小皱纹.她瞧着岁月留下的痕迹,只微笑一下说道:"怕什么?我反正已经是个老婆子了."她的希望就是能瞧着儿子显声扬名,在她看来,他是生来要做大人物的.她把儿子的抄本.图画.作文,都好好藏着,时常拿出来给她的亲友们看,仿佛这些全是大天才超凡入圣的杰作.她把乔治的成绩挑了些交给都宾小姐,好让她拿给乔治的姑妈奥斯本小姐看;再让奥斯本小姐拿给奥斯本老先生看;这样,老头儿也许会想起从前对于死去的儿子太忍心,太严厉,慢慢的回心转意.丈夫的毛病和短处,她都忘掉了,只记得他不顾一切和自己结婚,只记得他气度尊贵,相貌出众,在战场上又勇敢......那天早上他出去打仗,光荣地为国战死,动身以前还拥抱着她.了不起的英雄留了一个模范儿子安慰她陪伴她,自己上天堂去了,想来他一定是笑眯眯的往下面对儿子瞧着呢.     上文已经说过,乔治的祖父奥斯本先生还在勒塞尔广场,坐在他的安乐椅里,性情一天比一天暴戾,心绪一天比一天恶劣.他的女儿虽然有漂亮的车马,虽然伦敦城里的慈善事业倒有一半受她资助,其实不过是个又寂寞又可怜.受尽虐待的老小姐.自从她见过侄儿以后,时常惦记着那漂亮的孩子.她渴望能够坐着华丽的马车到他家里去,每天一个人在公园里兜风的时候,老是东张西望希望遇见他.她那做银行家太太的妹妹偶然也肯赏脸到勒塞尔广场的老家来望望老姐姐.她带着两个瘦弱的孩子,另外跟着一个穿戴整齐的女佣人.她嘻嘻的笑着,说起话来扭扭捏捏,轻声轻气,卖弄她那些上流社会里的朋友.她说她的小弗莱特立克和克劳特.劳莱波泊勋爵长得一个样儿,又说有一次他们坐着驴车在罗汉浦顿走过,有一位男爵夫人特别注意她的漂亮的玛丽亚.她再三催促姐姐叫爸爸撒开手花点儿钱在她儿女身上.她说她打定主意要叫弗莱特立克进禁卫军;如今白洛克先生正在省吃俭用的抽出钱来买田地,家里给他榨得一文不剩;弗莱特立克是长子,将来家里或许会把产业传给他,可是她那宝贝的女儿还是没有着落.她总是说:"亲爱的,我希望你帮她的忙,因为爸爸给我的一份财产当然得交给我们当家的管.亲爱的萝达.墨默尔说了,只等可怜的亲爱的卡色托第勋爵一死(他一直害羊癫疯),她就准备把所有卡色托第产业上的牵累都花钱弄个清楚,那么她儿子麦克德芙.墨默尔将来少不得就是卡色托第子爵啦.明新街两位白勒迪叶先生都预备把产业传给法尼.白勒迪叶的儿子.我那宝贝儿弗莱特立克无论如何得算家里的继承人才好.还有......还有,请你叫爸爸把款子仍旧提到朗白街我们的银行里去,好不好,亲爱的?他把钱都存在思登比和罗迪的银行里,我们脸上到底不好看."她说了半天,一半是卖弄,一半是为切身的利益打算.她的亲吻使你觉得仿佛给蛤蜊肉碰了一下.说完话,接过吻,她就把她那两个浑身浆得挺硬的孩子叫过来,一路假笑着回到马车里去.     这位上流社会里的尖儿回家的次数越多,情形就越不利.她父亲存在思登比和罗迪银行里的钱有增无减,玛丽亚的贵妇人架子也越来越让人受不了.白朗浦顿小屋子里的寡妇小小心心的捧着她的宝贝,不知道有人正在算计她.     那天晚上,吉恩.奥斯本告诉父亲说她看见他的孙子,老头儿没有回答,可也不表示生气.睡觉的时候,他和女儿道了晚安,声音相当的和软.她说的话他一定细细想过了,关于她到都宾家里作客的情形他也一定去问过了;两星期之后,他忽然问起她常戴的法国表和金链子在什么地方.     她吓得战战兢兢的答道:"那表是我自己出钱买的."     老头儿说道:"你可以到铺子里去定一个跟本来一样的,如果你要买个讲究些的也随便你."然后他又不说话了.     近来两位都宾小姐已经和爱米丽亚说过几次,请她让乔治到她们家里去玩.她们说他的姑妈很喜欢他,说不定爷爷也愿意重新认了这个孙子.乔治有这么好的机会,爱米丽亚难道忍心一手推掉不成?     爱米丽亚当然不能一手推掉.她虽然依了她们的话,心里沉甸甸的疑惧不定.只要孩子不在身边她总不放心,直要等他回到家里才觉得他脱了险.他带回来许多玩具和钱,他的妈妈看了又妒忌又着急,问他可曾看见什么男人没有?他说:"只有威廉老爵士,他带我坐四个轮子的马车.还有都宾先生.他下午骑着一匹漂亮的栗色马儿回来了.他穿一件绿外套,打一条粉红的领带,手里拿一根金头的鞭子.他答应带我去看伦敦的钟楼,还要带我和那些色雷猎狗一起去打猎呢."最后有一天他说:"今儿我看见一个老先生,眉毛很浓,戴着一顶宽边的帽子,挂着怪粗的金链子,底下还有一嘟噜印戳子."那天马车夫恰巧把乔治骑在小灰马身上绕着草地学骑马,老头儿来了.乔治晚上告诉妈妈说:"他老是瞧着我,身上直哆嗦.吃过饭,我把'我的名字叫诺佛尔,那段诗背了一遍(约翰.霍姆(Ｊｏｈｎ　Ｈｏｏｍｅ,１７２２—１８０８)的悲剧《德格拉斯》(Ｄｏｕｇｌａｓ)中的一节.),我姑妈就哭起来了.她老是淌眼抹泪的."     爱米丽亚听了这话,知道孩子已经见过祖父.她猜想他们那边准会开口,天天坐立不安的等待着.过了几天,奥斯本先生果然正式提议领养孙子,并且让他承继他父亲名下的一份财产.他愿意供给乔治.奥斯本太太足够的生活费用.据说乔治.奥斯本太太有意再嫁,如果她结婚的话,生活费仍旧照给.不过孩子必须跟着祖父住在勒塞尔广场或是奥斯本先生指定的地点,偶尔也可以到奥斯本太太的家里来看看她.这封信由奥斯本差人送来读给她听.那天她的母亲恰巧不在家,父亲照例在市中心办公.     她一辈子不过发过两三回脾气,而奥斯本先生差来的律师可可的就碰上了.那位波先生读完来信,把它交给爱米丽亚.她马上站起来,满脸通红,浑身哆嗦着接过信纸一把撕得粉碎,踩在脚底下."'我再嫁!我出卖孩子!谁敢说这种话!谁敢这样侮辱我!你去告诉奥斯本先生,说这封信太卑鄙,实在太卑鄙,我不愿意写回信.再见了,先生,......说完这话,她鞠着躬送我出来,那样子简直像悲剧里的皇后."这是那律师告诉奥斯本的话.     她的父母并没有觉察她那天大失常态,她也不把经过告诉他们.两个老的各操各的心,老太太如今糊里糊涂,全副精神都在自己的事情上面.老先生仍旧喜欢东撩撩西拨拨的做投机买卖.我们知道他经营煤公司和酒公司都一败涂地,可是他还是不甘心,时常在市中心四处打转,想法子找门路.有一天,他又找到一样新的买卖,打定主意要投资,克拉浦先生劝着也没有用,其实他老早给拖了进去退不出来了,根本没敢把真相全盘告诉克拉浦.赛特笠先生的座右铭是决不和妇人女子谈银钱出入的事,所以家里人对于未来的灾难影儿都不知道,直到那倒楣的老头儿逼得走投无路才招供了实情.     他们这家的账目向来一星期一结,如今忽然付不出来.赛特笠先生愁眉苦脸的告诉妻子说印度的汇款没有来.可怜的老太太只得到各家铺子里去要求展期付账.因为她向来准时付账,有一两家铺子反而因为收不到钱而对她发脾气,其实这种情形在好些不守规矩的顾客是极平常的.还亏得爱米总是高高兴兴的付出她的一份钱,从来不去过问家里的账目.这样,这一家子勉强吃着一半口粮过日子,总算平平安安对付了半年,赛特笠老头儿还在希望他的股票上涨,一切复归顺利.     可是半年过去,并不见什么地方生出六十镑钱来帮他们渡过难关.家计是越来越艰难了.赛特笠太太病病歪歪的,比以前衰弱了许多.她不大说话,时常躲在厨房里对着克拉浦太太掉眼泪.卖肉的对她丧声歪气,菜蔬铺的掌柜也不把她当一回事.有一两回小乔杰抱怨饭不好吃.爱米丽亚自己只要吃一片面包就能当一餐饭,可是觉得孩子太受委屈,从私房里拿出钱来买了东西给他吃,免得他身体受影响.     到后来两个老的不得不把实情告诉她,可是说的话还是藏一半露一半的.处境十分窘迫的人往往是这样子.有一天,爱米丽亚自己的钱来了,便准备把贴补给父母的费用交出来.她平时的开销都有账目,这次要求把股息留下一部分,因为她已经给乔治定了一套新衣服.     她的母亲这才开口,告诉她乔斯的汇款没有来,家里难过日子,而且责备着说她早该看出爹娘的苦处,可气的是她除了乔杰之外谁也不管,什么也不管.爱米听了这话,一言不发,把桌子上所有的钱都推到母亲面前,自己走到房里哭得泪干肠断.那天她不得不到铺子里去把衣服退掉,心里无限的感触.她一心要叫孩子在圣诞节穿上新衣服,已经和她的朋友,一个第二三流的女裁缝,讨论过好几回,商量应该怎么裁,做什么式样.     最为难的,就是要把这事婉转告诉乔杰.乔杰听了大闹;他说人人到了圣诞节都穿新衣服.人家不要笑话他吗?他无论如何要穿新衣服,妈妈老早答应的.可怜的寡妇吻着儿子,一点办法也没有,只好一面补旧衣服一面掉眼泪.她把自己的几件首饰衣服东翻西弄,看看有什么可以换钱买新衣服的没有.她还有一块都宾送给她的印度细羊毛披肩.她记得从前跟着母亲到勒特该脱山一家漂亮的印度铺子里去过,那儿常有太太小姐们把这些货色买进卖出.她想到有这条路可走,高兴得脸上发红,眼睛里放出光来.早上乔杰上学之前,她吻着他,满面喜色的目送他动身.孩子觉得她的笑脸准表示有好消息.     她把披肩包在一条大手帕里(这手帕也是好心的少佐送给她的),藏在斗篷下面,红了脸儿慌慌张张的往勒特该脱山那边去.她一路沿着公园的墙匆匆的走,过街的时候,索性奔跑起来,引得好些人在她旁边走过的时候回过身来对着她红喷喷的俊俏的脸儿瞧个不住.她心里筹划究竟把披肩换来的钱买什么好.除了新衣服之外,她打算买些他所渴望的故事书,替他留下下半年的学费,余下的给父亲买一件斗篷,省得他老穿着那件旧外套.她对于少佐的礼物并没有估计错误.那披肩精美轻软,铺子里的人给了她二十个基尼,还大大的沾了她的便宜.     她得到了这么些钱,又惊奇,又兴奋,慌忙跑到圣保罗教堂一带的大登商店,买了一本《父母的帮手》(英国女作家玛丽亚.埃杰窝斯(Ｍａｒｉａ　Ｅｄｇｅｗｏｒｔｈ,１７６７—１８４９)的作品.),一套乔杰渴望的《三福和麦登》(十八世纪末著名的儿童读物,汤姆士.戴(Ｔｈｏｍａｓ　Ｄａｙ,１７４８—４９)所作.),就在那里上了公共马车,一路捧着包儿回家,得意的了不得.她在故事书的空白页上整整齐齐的写着"乔治.奥斯本,亲爱的母亲赠给他的圣诞礼物".这本书到今天还在,笔迹娟秀的题存也照旧.     她拿着书从自己屋里走出来,打算把它们搁在乔治的书台上,好等他回家时瞧着乐一下,哪知道在过道里可可的碰见她母亲.老太太看见那七本漂亮的金边小书,问道:"这是什么?"     爱米丽亚答道:"给乔杰的几本故事书,我......我老早答应在圣诞节给他的."     老太太立刻发作起来,嚷嚷道:"故事书!家里面包都没有,你还买书!我为着把你跟你那儿子供养的舒服,为着叫你亲爱的爸爸不至于坐监牢,把自己的首饰和常披的印度羊毛披肩都卖光了.连匙子也卖了.为的什么?就为着叫做买卖的不至于欺负咱们,为着要付克拉浦先生的房租......付租也是该当的,他做房东向来不勒�奕�,做人又客气,而且他自己也有孩子得养活.唉,爱米丽亚!你一天到晚顾着儿子,又买什么故事书,真把我活活气死了.儿子给你宠得不成样子,你还死拉住他不放.唉,爱米丽亚!但愿你福气比我好,上帝会赏个孝顺孩子给你.如今你爹上了年纪,乔斯反而不顾他了.乔杰呢,尽有人愿意照顾他,给他钱花.他像大少爷似的上学校,脖子上挂着链子和金表.可怜我亲爱的老伴儿,连一个先......先令都没有."赛特笠太太越说越苦,制不住号啕大哭起来.整幢房子里都是她的声音,克拉浦家的几个女的把她们娘儿俩说的话听了个逼清.     可怜的爱米丽亚答道:"唉,妈妈,妈妈!你以前又没有告诉我.我......早就答应买书给他的.我......我今天早上才卖掉了披肩.钱拿去吧......什么都拿去吧."她哆嗦着把所有的小银圆大金镑......她宝贵的金镑......掏出来全塞在母亲手里,手里搁不下,又掉到地上,一直滚到楼梯底下.     她回到自己屋里,倒在椅子里,绝望伤心到了极点.现在她什么都看清楚了.她这么自私自利,正是牺牲自己的儿子.如果没有她,乔杰就能受好教育,享荣华富贵,地位和他爸爸当年一样.从前乔治不是就为她丢掉了这一切吗?只要她一开口,父亲就不用愁柴愁米,孩子马上就是阔大少.温柔的爱米丽亚想到这里,觉得自己罪孽深重,扎心的难受.

CHAPTER XLVII Gaunt House All the world knows that Lord Steyne's town palace stands in Gaunt Square, out of which Great Gaunt Street leads, whither we first conducted Rebecca, in the time of the departed Sir Pitt Crawley. Peering over the railings and through the black trees into the garden of the Square, you see a few miserable governesses with wan- faced pupils wandering round and round it, and round the dreary grass-plot in the centre of which rises the statue of Lord Gaunt, who fought at Minden, in a three-tailed wig, and otherwise habited like a Roman Emperor. Gaunt House occupies nearly a side of the Square. The remaining three sides are composed of mansions that have passed away into dowagerism--tall, dark houses, with window-frames of stone, or picked out of a lighter red. Little light seems to be behind those lean, comfortless casements now, and hospitality to have passed away from those doors as much as the laced lacqueys and link-boys of old times, who used to put out their torches in the blank iron extinguishers that still flank the lamps over the steps. Brass plates have penetrated into the square--Doctors, the Diddlesex Bank Western Branch--the English and European Reunion, &c.--it has a dreary look--nor is my Lord Steyne's palace less dreary. All I have ever seen of it is the vast wall in front, with the rustic columns at the great gate, through which an old porter peers sometimes with a fat and gloomy red face--and over the wall the garret and bedroom windows, and the chimneys, out of which there seldom comes any smoke now. For the present Lord Steyne lives at Naples, preferring the view of the Bay and Capri and Vesuvius to the dreary aspect of the wall in Gaunt Square. A few score yards down New Gaunt Street, and leading into Gaunt Mews indeed, is a little modest back door, which you would not remark from that of any of the other stables. But many a little close carriage has stopped at that door, as my informant (little Tom Eaves, who knows everything, and who showed me the place) told me. "The Prince and Perdita have been in and out of that door, sir," he had often told me; "Marianne Clarke has entered it with the Duke of ------. It conducts to the famous petits appartements of Lord Steyne --one, sir, fitted up all in ivory and white satin, another in ebony and black velvet; there is a little banqueting-room taken from Sallust's house at Pompeii, and painted by Cosway--a little private kitchen, in which every saucepan was silver and all the spits were gold. It was there that Egalite Orleans roasted partridges on the night when he and the Marquis of Steyne won a hundred thousand from a great personage at ombre. Half of the money went to the French Revolution, half to purchase Lord Gaunt's Marquisate and Garter--and the remainder--" but it forms no part of our scheme to tell what became of the remainder, for every shilling of which, and a great deal more, little Tom Eaves, who knows everybody's affairs, is ready to account. Besides his town palace, the Marquis had castles and palaces in various quarters of the three kingdoms, whereof the descriptions may be found in the road-books--Castle Strongbow, with its woods, on the Shannon shore; Gaunt Castle, in Carmarthenshire, where Richard II was taken prisoner--Gauntly Hall in Yorkshire, where I have been informed there were two hundred silver teapots for the breakfasts of the guests of the house, with everything to correspond in splendour; and Stillbrook in Hampshire, which was my lord's farm, an humble place of residence, of which we all remember the wonderful furniture which was sold at my lord's demise by a late celebrated auctioneer. The Marchioness of Steyne was of the renowned and ancient family of the Caerlyons, Marquises of Camelot, who have preserved the old faith ever since the conversion of the venerable Druid, their first ancestor, and whose pedigree goes far beyond the date of the arrival of King Brute in these islands. Pendragon is the title of the eldest son of the house. The sons have been called Arthurs, Uthers, and Caradocs, from immemorial time. Their heads have fallen in many a loyal conspiracy. Elizabeth chopped off the head of the Arthur of her day, who had been Chamberlain to Philip and Mary, and carried letters between the Queen of Scots and her uncles the Guises. A cadet of the house was an officer of the great Duke and distinguished in the famous Saint Bartholomew conspiracy. During the whole of Mary's confinement, the house of Camelot conspired in her behalf. It was as much injured by its charges in fitting out an armament against the Spaniards, during the time of the Armada, as by the fines and confiscations levied on it by Elizabeth for harbouring of priests, obstinate recusancy, and popish misdoings. A recreant of James's time was momentarily perverted from his religion by the arguments of that great theologian, and the fortunes of the family somewhat restored by his timely weakness. But the Earl of Camelot, of the reign of Charles, returned to the old creed of his family, and they continued to fight for it, and ruin themselves for it, as long as there was a Stuart left to head or to instigate a rebellion. Lady Mary Caerlyon was brought up at a Parisian convent; the Dauphiness Marie Antoinette was her godmother. In the pride of her beauty she had been married--sold, it was said--to Lord Gaunt, then at Paris, who won vast sums from the lady's brother at some of Philip of Orleans's banquets. The Earl of Gaunt's famous duel with the Count de la Marche, of the Grey Musqueteers, was attributed by common report to the pretensions of that officer (who had been a page, and remained a favourite of the Queen) to the hand of the beautiful Lady Mary Caerlyon. She was married to Lord Gaunt while the Count lay ill of his wound, and came to dwell at Gaunt House, and to figure for a short time in the splendid Court of the Prince of Wales. Fox had toasted her. Morris and Sheridan had written songs about her. Malmesbury had made her his best bow; Walpole had pronounced her charming; Devonshire had been almost jealous of her; but she was scared by the wild pleasures and gaieties of the society into which she was flung, and after she had borne a couple of sons, shrank away into a life of devout seclusion. No wonder that my Lord Steyne, who liked pleasure and cheerfulness, was not often seen after their marriage by the side of this trembling, silent, superstitious, unhappy lady. The before-mentioned Tom Eaves (who has no part in this history, except that he knew all the great folks in London, and the stories and mysteries of each family) had further information regarding my Lady Steyne, which may or may not be true. "The humiliations," Tom used to say, "which that woman has been made to undergo, in her own house, have been frightful; Lord Steyne has made her sit down to table with women with whom I would rather die than allow Mrs. Eaves to associate--with Lady Crackenbury, with Mrs. Chippenham, with Madame de la Cruchecassee, the French secretary's wife (from every one of which ladies Tom Eaves--who would have sacrificed his wife for knowing them--was too glad to get a bow or a dinner) with the REIGNING FAVOURITE in a word. And do you suppose that that woman, of that family, who are as proud as the Bourbons, and to whom the Steynes are but lackeys, mushrooms of yesterday (for after all, they are not of the Old Gaunts, but of a minor and doubtful branch of the house); do you suppose, I say (the reader must bear in mind that it is always Tom Eaves who speaks) that the Marchioness of Steyne, the haughtiest woman in England, would bend down to her husband so submissively if there were not some cause? Pooh! I tell you there are secret reasons. I tell you that, in the emigration, the Abbe de la Marche who was here and was employed in the Quiberoon business with Puisaye and Tinteniac, was the same Colonel of Mousquetaires Gris with whom Steyne fought in the year '86--that he and the Marchioness met again--that it was after the Reverend Colonel was shot in Brittany that Lady Steyne took to those extreme practices of devotion which she carries on now; for she is closeted with her director every day--she is at service at Spanish Place, every morning, I've watched her there--that is, I've happened to be passing there--and depend on it, there's a mystery in her case. People are not so unhappy unless they have something to repent of," added Tom Eaves with a knowing wag of his head; "and depend on it, that woman would not be so submissive as she is if the Marquis had not some sword to hold over her." So, if Mr. Eaves's information be correct, it is very likely that this lady, in her high station, had to submit to many a private indignity and to hide many secret griefs under a calm face. And let us, my brethren who have not our names in the Red Book, console ourselves by thinking comfortably how miserable our betters may be, and that Damocles, who sits on satin cushions and is served on gold plate, has an awful sword hanging over his head in the shape of a bailiff, or an hereditary disease, or a family secret, which peeps out every now and then from the embroidered arras in a ghastly manner, and will be sure to drop one day or the other in the right place. In comparing, too, the poor man's situation with that of the great, there is (always according to Mr. Eaves) another source of comfort for the former. You who have little or no patrimony to bequeath or to inherit, may be on good terms with your father or your son, whereas the heir of a great prince, such as my Lord Steyne, must naturally be angry at being kept out of his kingdom, and eye the occupant of it with no very agreeable glances. "Take it as a rule," this sardonic old Laves would say, "the fathers and elder sons of all great families hate each other. The Crown Prince is always in opposition to the crown or hankering after it. Shakespeare knew the world, my good sir, and when he describes Prince Hal (from whose family the Gaunts pretend to be descended, though they are no more related to John of Gaunt than you are) trying on his father's coronet, he gives you a natural description of all heirs apparent. If you were heir to a dukedom and a thousand pounds a day, do you mean to say you would not wish for possession? Pooh! And it stands to reason that every great man, having experienced this feeling towards his father, must be aware that his son entertains it towards himself; and so they can't but be suspicious and hostile. "Then again, as to the feeling of elder towards younger sons. My dear sir, you ought to know that every elder brother looks upon the cadets of the house as his natural enemies, who deprive him of so much ready money which ought to be his by right. I have often heard George Mac Turk, Lord Bajazet's eldest son, say that if he had his will when he came to the title, he would do what the sultans do, and clear the estate by chopping off all his younger brothers' heads at once; and so the case is, more or less, with them all. I tell you they are all Turks in their hearts. Pooh! sir, they know the world." And here, haply, a great man coming up, Tom Eaves's hat would drop off his head, and he would rush forward with a bow and a grin, which showed that he knew the world too--in the Tomeavesian way, that is. And having laid out every shilling of his fortune on an annuity, Tom could afford to bear no malice to his nephews and nieces, and to have no other feeling with regard to his betters but a constant and generous desire to dine with them. Between the Marchioness and the natural and tender regard of mother for children, there was that cruel barrier placed of difference of faith. The very love which she might feel for her sons only served to render the timid and pious lady more fearful and unhappy. The gulf which separated them was fatal and impassable. She could not stretch her weak arms across it, or draw her children over to that side away from which her belief told her there was no safety. During the youth of his sons, Lord Steyne, who was a good scholar and amateur casuist, had no better sport in the evening after dinner in the country than in setting the boys' tutor, the Reverend Mr. Trail (now my Lord Bishop of Ealing) on her ladyship's director, Father Mole, over their wine, and in pitting Oxford against St. Acheul. He cried "Bravo, Latimer! Well said, Loyola!" alternately; he promised Mole a bishopric if he would come over, and vowed he would use all his influence to get Trail a cardinal's hat if he would secede. Neither divine allowed himself to be conquered, and though the fond mother hoped that her youngest and favourite son would be reconciled to her church--his mother church--a sad and awful disappointment awaited the devout lady--a disappointment which seemed to be a judgement upon her for the sin of her marriage. My Lord Gaunt married, as every person who frequents the Peerage knows, the Lady Blanche Thistlewood, a daughter of the noble house of Bareacres, before mentioned in this veracious history. A wing of Gaunt House was assigned to this couple; for the head of the family chose to govern it, and while he reigned to reign supreme; his son and heir, however, living little at home, disagreeing with his wife, and borrowing upon post-obits such moneys as he required beyond the very moderate sums which his father was disposed to allow him. The Marquis knew every shilling of his son's debts. At his lamented demise, he was found himself to be possessor of many of his heir's bonds, purchased for their benefit, and devised by his Lordship to the children of his younger son. As, to my Lord Gaunt's dismay, and the chuckling delight of his natural enemy and father, the Lady Gaunt had no children--the Lord George Gaunt was desired to return from Vienna, where he was engaged in waltzing and diplomacy, and to contract a matrimonial alliance with the Honourable Joan, only daughter of John Johnes, First Baron Helvellyn, and head of the firm of Jones, Brown, and Robinson, of Threadneedle Street, Bankers; from which union sprang several sons and daughters, whose doings do not appertain to this story. The marriage at first was a happy and prosperous one. My Lord George Gaunt could not only read, but write pretty correctly. He spoke French with considerable fluency; and was one of the finest waltzers in Europe. With these talents, and his interest at home, there was little doubt that his lordship would rise to the highest dignities in his profession. The lady, his wife, felt that courts were her sphere, and her wealth enabled her to receive splendidly in those continental towns whither her husband's diplomatic duties led him. There was talk of appointing him minister, and bets were laid at the Travellers' that he would be ambassador ere long, when of a sudden, rumours arrived of the secretary's extraordinary behaviour. At a grand diplomatic dinner given by his chief, he had started up and declared that a pate de foie gras was poisoned. He went to a ball at the hotel of the Bavarian envoy, the Count de Springbock- Hohenlaufen, with his head shaved and dressed as a Capuchin friar. It was not a masked ball, as some folks wanted to persuade you. It was something queer, people whispered. His grandfather was so. It was in the family. His wife and family returned to this country and took up their abode at Gaunt House. Lord George gave up his post on the European continent, and was gazetted to Brazil. But people knew better; he never returned from that Brazil expedition--never died there--never lived there--never was there at all. He was nowhere; he was gone out altogether. "Brazil," said one gossip to another, with a grin-- "Brazil is St. John's Wood. Rio de Janeiro is a cottage surrounded by four walls, and George Gaunt is accredited to a keeper, who has invested him with the order of the Strait-Waistcoat." These are the kinds of epitaphs which men pass over one another in Vanity Fair. Twice or thrice in a week, in the earliest morning, the poor mother went for her sins and saw the poor invalid. Sometimes he laughed at her (and his laughter was more pitiful than to hear him cry); sometimes she found the brilliant dandy diplomatist of the Congress of Vienna dragging about a child's toy, or nursing the keeper's baby's doll. Sometimes he knew her and Father Mole, her director and companion; oftener he forgot her, as he had done wife, children, love, ambition, vanity. But he remembered his dinner-hour, and used to cry if his wine-and-water was not strong enough. It was the mysterious taint of the blood; the poor mother had brought it from her own ancient race. The evil had broken out once or twice in the father's family, long before Lady Steyne's sins had begun, or her fasts and tears and penances had been offered in their expiation. The pride of the race was struck down as the first-born of Pharaoh. The dark mark of fate and doom was on the threshold-- the tall old threshold surmounted by coronets and caned heraldry. The absent lord's children meanwhile prattled and grew on quite unconscious that the doom was over them too. First they talked of their father and devised plans against his return. Then the name of the living dead man was less frequently in their mouth--then not mentioned at all. But the stricken old grandmother trembled to think that these too were the inheritors of their father's shame as well as of his honours, and watched sickening for the day when the awful ancestral curse should come down on them. This dark presentiment also haunted Lord Steyne. He tried to lay the horrid bedside ghost in Red Seas of wine and jollity, and lost sight of it sometimes in the crowd and rout of his pleasures. But it always came back to him when alone, and seemed to grow more threatening with years. "I have taken your son," it said, "why not you? I may shut you up in a prison some day like your son George. I may tap you on the head to-morrow, and away go pleasure and honours, feasts and beauty, friends, flatterers, French cooks, fine horses and houses--in exchange for a prison, a keeper, and a straw mattress like George Gaunt's." And then my lord would defy the ghost which threatened him, for he knew of a remedy by which he could baulk his enemy. So there was splendour and wealth, but no great happiness perchance, behind the tall caned portals of Gaunt House with its smoky coronets and ciphers. The feasts there were of the grandest in London, but there was not overmuch content therewith, except among the guests who sat at my lord's table. Had he not been so great a Prince very few possibly would have visited him; but in Vanity Fair the sins of very great personages are looked at indulgently. "Nous regardons a deux fois" (as the French lady said) before we condemn a person of my lord's undoubted quality. Some notorious carpers and squeamish moralists might be sulky with Lord Steyne, but they were glad enough to come when he asked them. "Lord Steyne is really too bad," Lady Slingstone said, "but everybody goes, and of course I shall see that my girls come to no harm." "His lordship is a man to whom I owe much, everything in life," said the Right Reverend Doctor Trail, thinking that the Archbishop was rather shaky, and Mrs. Trail and the young ladies would as soon have missed going to church as to one of his lordship's parties. "His morals are bad," said little Lord Southdown to his sister, who meekly expostulated, having heard terrific legends from her mamma with respect to the doings at Gaunt House; "but hang it, he's got the best dry Sillery in Europe!" And as for Sir Pitt Crawley, Bart.--Sir Pitt that pattern of decorum, Sir Pitt who had led off at missionary meetings--he never for one moment thought of not going too. "Where you see such persons as the Bishop of Ealing and the Countess of Slingstone, you may be pretty sure, Jane," the Baronet would say, "that we cannot be wrong. The great rank and station of Lord Steyne put him in a position to command people in our station in life. The Lord Lieutenant of a County, my dear, is a respectable man. Besides, George Gaunt and I were intimate in early life; he was my junior when we were attaches at Pumpernickel together." In a word everybody went to wait upon this great man--everybody who was asked, as you the reader (do not say nay) or I the writer hereof would go if we had an invitation. 第 四 十 七 章    岗 脱 大 厦     谁都知道斯丹恩勋爵伦敦的府邸在岗脱广场.岗脱广场通过去就是大岗脱街;当年毕脱.克劳莱老爵士当权的时候,我们曾经带着利蓓加到那里去过.广场中间有个小花园,靠栅栏黑黝黝的好多树,再往里一瞧,就看见几个可怜巴巴的女教师领着脸色青白的小学生在那里兜来兜去,绕着当中荒凉的草坪散步.草地中心是岗脱勋爵的像,头上戴着假头发,后面三根小辫子,其余的装束又活像罗马的皇帝;这位勋爵从前在明登打过仗(明登在西法利亚,七年战争时,法国军队给英.德.俄三国联军在明登打败.).岗脱大厦几乎占了广场的一面.其余三面的房子,又高又大,看上去黑不溜秋,全有些寡居的太夫人的风味.窗框是石头的,有的嵌着淡红的花纹,窗户是又窄又不舒服.如今这些房子里不大瞧得见灯光,好客的风气仿佛已经过时,穿花边号衣的听差和举着火把送客的小僮儿也一去不返了.台阶上面几盏大灯的旁边至今装着用来熄灭火把的空铁盘儿.在广场里现在也看得见铜牌子了;有几块是医生的,有一块刻着是笛特尔塞克斯郡地方银行的西部支行,还有一块上刻着英国和欧洲基督教各派大统一促进会办事处,另外还有些别的牌子.整个广场看上去凄凉得很,斯丹恩勋爵壮丽的第宅也不见得比别的房子有生气.我只看见过宅子前面高高的围墙和大铁门上生了锈的小棍子,他家的老门房往往在铁门后面向外东张西望,一张脸又红又肥,老是愁眉哭眼的样子.围墙遮不了的阁楼和卧房的窗户也露在外面,还有好些烟囱,现在连烟都不大出了.现在的斯丹恩勋爵嫌岗脱广场太寂寞,宁可住在意大利的那波里,欣赏加波立和维苏维斯的风光.     新岗脱街下去百来步,通岗脱皇家马房的地方,有一扇并不引人注目的后门,看上去和别的马房的门没什么两样,可是时常有门窗紧闭的小马车停在门口.这话是无所不知的汤姆.伊芙斯告诉我的,他还带我去看过那地方.他说:"亲王和波迪泰(波迪泰(Ｐｅｒｄｉｔａ)是莎士比亚戏剧《冬天的故事》里女角色的名字.女伶玛丽.罗宾逊(Ｍａｒｙ　Ｒｏｂｉｎｓｏｎ,１７５８—１８００)因演这角色而得名.当时的威尔斯亲王(后来是乔治第四)对她非常倾倒.)时常在这扇门里进出.玛丽安.克拉克(玛丽安.克拉克是约克公爵的情妇.)和某公爵也到这儿来.这扇小门直通斯丹恩勋爵有名的私室.里面有一间屋子是用象牙和白软缎装饰的,另外一间摆着乌木家具,配上黑丝绒的窗帘幔子等等,还有一间小小的饭厅,全套陈设都是意大利庞贝古城中沙勒斯脱(庞贝古城在公元７９年被维苏维斯火山灰埋葬,发掘出来的时候街道房屋原封未动,有几家陈设极其典雅华丽,沙勒斯脱(Ｓａｌｌｕｓｔ)的宅子就是其中之一.)住宅里搬来的古董.墙上的壁画是考思威(考思威(Ｒｉｃｈａｒｄ　Ｃｏｓｗａｙ,１７４０—１８２１),英国画家.的手笔.他有一间小厨房,里面银的是煎锅,金的是烤肉的叉子.当年'开明的奥莱昂,("开明的奥莱昂"(Ｌｏｕｉｓ－Ｐｈｉｌｉｐｐｅ－Ｊｏｓｅｐｈ,又名Ｐｈｉｌｉｐｐｅ－Ｅｇａｌｉｔé,１７４７—９３),法王路易十六的堂兄弟,是法国大革命中极重要的角色.１７９０年他在英国,和威尔斯亲王常在一起吃喝玩乐.)和斯丹恩侯爵两个一起跟翁白勒地方的某某大人物赌钱,赢了他十万镑;那天晚上奥莱昂公爵就在那厨房里烤野鸡来着.这笔款子一半用来发动法国大革命,一半用来贿买岗脱家侯爵的封号和勋章.剩下的......"汤姆.伊芙斯是个包打听,下剩的款子里面每一个先令的去路他全知道,另外搜寻了一肚子掌故,都愿意说给你听,不过这些都不在本文的范围之内.     除了伦敦的公馆之外,侯爵在英格兰.苏格兰和威尔斯各地都有古堡和府邸.关于他各处的产业,旅行指南里全有记载.他在夏能海岸有强弩堡,附带还有个树林子.在威尔斯南部加马登郡有岗脱堡,英王理查第二当年就在那里被俘.在姚克郡有岗脱莱大厦,里面据说单是供客人吃早饭的银茶壶就有两百个,其余的一切也都穷奢极侈,跟这势派相称.在汉泊郡还有个静流别墅,算是所有的住宅之中最简陋的.侯爵死后,别墅里的家具什物由一位有名的拍卖专家当众拍卖,想来大家还记得那些东西多么讲究;现在那拍卖专家也已经去世了.     斯丹恩侯爵夫人姓开厄里昂.她出身望族,是卡默洛侯爵的一支.他们家的祖先一直可以追溯到白鲁脱王(相传是英国开国之祖.)到达英伦三岛之前.第一个祖先是古赛尔脱族的教主,后来信奉了天主教,侯爵家里的人世代相传,没有变过信仰.他们家里的大儿子都有"潘特拉根"(潘特拉根(Ｐｅｎｄｒａｇｏｎ)的意思是"为首的毒龙",古来英国的极权首领都有这封号.)的封号.男孩子的名字都是亚瑟.厄托.加拉多克,还是从古以来传下来的老规矩.这些人在历史上参加过皇室阴谋以致丧命的也不少.伊丽莎白女王就斩了一个叫亚瑟的,因为他不但是腓力普和玛丽(玛丽(Ｍａｒｙ　Ⅰ,１５１６—５８),伊丽莎白女王同父异母的姊姊,在１５５３—５８年间做英国女王.她维护天主教,残杀新教徒,退位后由伊丽莎白接位.)的御前大臣,还替苏格兰的玛丽女王(玛丽.司徒亚特(Ｍａｒｙ　Ｓｔｕａｒｔ,１５４２—８７),苏格兰女王,是伊丽莎白女王的才貌双全的表妹,被伊丽莎白监禁十二年以后处死.她的母亲是法国古依斯家里的人.)传信给她舅舅们,也就是古依斯家的那几个人.这家子还有个子弟是那了不起的古依斯公爵的手下人,在有名的圣巴塞罗缪阴谋之中(当时欧洲新旧教斗争得很剧烈,法王却尔斯第九受了母后的怂恿,在１５７２年８月２４日圣巴塞罗缪节日大规模屠杀全国的新教徒.古依斯公爵曾在幕后煽动这次屠杀.)很显了些身手.玛丽女王被监禁的一段时期里面,卡默洛全家暗底下为她出力.后来英国和西班牙争夺海上霸权,伊丽莎白派他们捐出钱来装配舰队,又因为他们收容神父在家,咬紧牙关不肯信奉国教,并且和教皇通同一气干些不好的勾当,便时常没收他们的财产或是派他们出罚金,因此他们也就穷了.到詹姆士接位,他们家出了一个不长进的儿子,听信了那有名的神学家(指英王詹姆士第一,因为他以神学家自居.),改奉新教.他这一软软得正是时候,家里居然恢复了一部分元气.可是等到却尔士第一登基,那时的卡默洛子爵又重奉天主教,而且从此继续为他们的信仰斗争和赔钱.只要还有一个斯丢亚的带头作乱或是煽动叛变,他们就跟着干.     玛丽.开厄里昂小时在巴黎一个修院办的学校里读书.她的教母就是法国储君的妃子玛丽.安东尼(路易十六之后,在大革命中上断头台处死.).在她最年轻美貌的时候,嫁给了......也有人说是卖给了......岗脱勋爵(就是指斯丹恩勋爵,因为当年他还没有得到侯爵的封号.).他那时正在巴黎,在腓力普.奥莱昂的家里作客,和小姐的哥哥狠狠的赌了几次,赢的数目实在太大了.岗脱伯爵和灰衣火熗营的特.拉.马希伯爵(他小时候在宫里当皇后的侍者,一直是皇后的宠臣)那一回的决斗闹得沸沸扬扬,据说就是因为争夺漂亮的玛丽.开厄里昂小姐.伯爵躺着养伤的时候,她就和岗脱伯爵结婚了.婚后她住在岗脱大厦,在威尔斯亲王豪华的宫廷里出入,时候虽然不长,风头是健极了.福克斯特地为她干杯.莫里斯和谢立丹(谢立丹,见本书４３０页注①.莫里斯(Ｃｈａｒｌｅｓ　Ｍｏｒｒｉｓ,１７４５—１８３８),诗人.)写了诗颂扬她.莫姆士白莱(这里指第一代的莫姆士白莱伯爵(Ｅａｒｌ　ｏｆ　Ｍａｌｍｅｓｂｕｒｙ,１７４６—１８２０),英国外交家,出名的风度娴雅.)拿出最娴雅的风度对她鞠躬.华尔泊尔(华尔泊尔(Ｈｏｒａｃｅ　Ｗａｌｐｏｌｅ,１７１７—９７),作家.)夸奖她妩媚.德芬郡公爵夫人(德芬郡公爵夫人(Ｇｅｏｒｇｉａｎａ　Ｃａｖｅｎｄｉｓｈ,１７５７—１８０６),当时有名的美人,极有才气,能写诗.)差不多有些妒忌她.无奈她过不惯这种疯狂享乐的生活,心里总觉得害怕,生过两个儿子之后,便隐居起来,只顾念经修行.斯丹恩勋爵最爱热闹,向来是寻欢作乐惯了的,如今娶的少奶奶却是这么寡言少语,郁郁不欢,成天乞乞缩缩的样子,再加她又有许多迷信的习惯,怪不得夫妇俩合不来.     前面提到的汤姆.伊芙斯(他并不是这本历史里面的角色,不过他认识所有伦敦的大人物,熟悉每家的秘密和新闻)......前面提到的汤姆.伊芙斯还知道斯丹恩夫人许多别的事情,是真是假,却不得而知了.汤姆常说:"这位太太在她自己家里受到的委屈说出来气死人.斯丹恩勋爵逼着她和那些邪女人一桌吃饭.拿我来说,我是宁死不准老婆跟她们来往的.像克拉根白莱太太,契本纳姆太太,还有那法国秘书的老婆克吕希加茜太太,总而言之,所有他得宠的姘头,侯爵夫人都得招待."(汤姆.伊芙斯只要有机会巴结这几位太太,把自己的老婆杀了做祭献也没什么不愿意;她们对他哈哈腰,或是请他吃顿饭,他就受宠若惊.)"你想,她自己的出身跟波朋王族一样尊贵,在他们看起来,斯丹恩家里的人不过是做佣人的材料,只好算暴发户罢咧.说穿了,斯丹恩他们又不是岗脱家的正宗,他们那一支地位既不显要,来历也不大明白.我且问你,"(请读者别忘了,说话的一直是汤姆.伊芙斯,)"斯丹恩侯爵夫人是全英国最尊贵的命妇,如果没有特别的原因,难道肯对丈夫那么依头顺脑吗?哼!告诉你吧,里面还有个秘密呢.大革命以后不是有好些法国人逃到英国来吗?中间有个特.拉.马希神父,跟比以赛和丁德尼亚一起牵涉在居贝龙事件(居贝龙是法国西部的小岛.大革命以后逃难在伦敦的法国贵族受了英国首相毕脱的煽动,企图依靠英国的军力从居贝龙向大陆反攻,比以赛伯爵便是主谋,事败后逃回英国.丁德尼亚原是法国海军军官,英政府和逃亡的法国贵族之间的关系就是他拉拢的.)里面,原来他就是一七八六年和斯丹恩决斗的灰衣火熗营的上校.他一到英国,和斯丹恩侯爵夫人又碰头了.这位又做神父又做上校的特.拉.马希在白立脱内熗毙之后,斯丹恩夫人才变得极端的虔诚,至今还是这样.当年她每天去找她的神师神父,一早就上西班牙广场去望弥撒,我还特地去监视她来着......我是说我凑巧去过那儿,刚刚碰见她.我看她这辈子准做过些不可告人的勾当.一个人要是没有亏心事,怎么会那样痛苦呢?"汤姆.伊芙斯一脸意味深长的表情,摇摇头说道:"瞧着吧,如果侯爵没有拿住她的把柄,她也不会那么好说话."     伊芙斯先生的话也许是靠得住的,看来这位夫人地位虽然高,在家里却着实受委屈.她外貌尽管镇静,背地里不知怎么受苦呢.弟兄们,谁保得定有钱有势的大人物不是天天在受罪啊?咱们这些没有地位的人这么一想,倒可以聊以自慰.大莫克利斯(大莫克利斯(Ｄａｍｏｃｌｅｓ)是公元前四世纪西西利暴君戴奥尼西斯王(Ｄｉｏｎ－ｙｓｉｕｓ)的朝臣,传说他羡慕戴奥尼西斯的尊荣富贵,戴奥尼西斯叫他尝尝做君主的滋味,请他坐在首位享用好酒好菜.他抬头一看,只见头顶上挂着一把剑,只用一根头发吊住,随时可能掉下来,这才明白在高位的人也有多少危险和苦处.)背后靠的是软缎的靠枕,吃起饭来使的都是金盘子金杯子,可是头顶上可有一把剑挂在那里,譬如像要债的地保,或是遗传的恶病,或是不可告人的丑事.这柄剑不时从绣花的幔子后面露出来,好不可怕.它总有一天会掉下来,不偏不倚,刚刚打中要害.     根据伊芙斯先生的意见,穷人还有一头比大人物放心.如果你家里产业很少,或是干脆没有产业,那么家人父子之间感情一定融洽.在斯丹恩那样权势赫赫的王公勋戚家里就不同了,做儿子的巴不得自己当权,只嫌父亲霸占着位子不放,心里有不生气的吗?伊芙斯老头儿冷笑说:"我这话百无一失,在王室里,父亲和长子没有不互相仇恨的.做太子的不是和父亲捣乱,就是想占王位.亲爱的先生,莎士比亚对于人情世故懂得最透彻,他描写海尔王子怎么试戴父亲的王冠(见历史剧《亨利第四》第二卷第四幕.海尔(Ｐｒｉｎｃｅ　Ｈａｌ)是亨利的小名.),就把储君的心理描写出来了.(岗脱一家硬说他们就是海尔王子的后裔,其实他们和你一样,跟岗脱的约翰(岗脱的约翰(Ｊｏｈｎ　ｏｆ　Ｇａｕｎｔ,１３４０—１３９９)就是兰加斯脱公爵,爱德华第四的儿子,亨利第四的父亲.)全无关系.)倘若你能承袭公爵的地位和一天一千镑的收入,难道你不急急乎希望安享这份富贵吗?那些大人物既然当年都嫌自己的父亲碍事,当然猜得着儿子的心理,因此没一个不对小辈猜忌厌恶的."     "我们再谈谈长子对于弟弟们怎么个看法.亲爱的先生,你要知道每个大哥哥都把底下的兄弟看作与生俱来的冤家,因为他觉得家里的现钱本来是他的名分,只恨弟弟们分了他的财产.我常听得巴杰齐勋爵的大儿子乔治.麦克脱克说,如果他袭了世爵以后能够任所欲为的话,他准会仿照土耳其苏丹的办法,立刻把弟弟们的头砍下来,只有这样才能把庄地上的纠葛料理清楚.他们这些人全差不多,没有一个不是手辣心狠,都有一套处世的手段."如果说到这里,恰巧有个大人物走过,汤姆.伊芙斯便会慌忙脱下帽子,咧着嘴,哈着腰,赶上去打招呼,可见他也有一套汤姆.伊芙斯式的处世手段.他把自己一身所有悉数存在银行里,变成固定的年金,这样一来,身后没有遗产,对于侄儿侄女倒也不生嫌隙.他心胸宽大,看见地位高出于自己的人,没有别的心思,只想时常到他们家里去吃饭.     侯爵夫人和她两个儿子因为宗教信仰不同,感情上起了一道障碍,为娘的空有一片痴情,却无从发挥出来.她信教极其虔诚,胆子又小,因为爱子心切,心里格外不快活,格外替他们担忧.这也是他们母子命里注定,要给这么一条不可跨越的鸿沟分隔在两边.她力量有限,虽然深信只有天主教才是真教,却不能伸出手来挽救儿子的灵魂,把他们拉到自己这边来.斯丹恩勋爵非常博学,是个诡辩家.两个儿子小的时候,他在乡下吃过晚饭以后没有别的消遣,便挑拨他们的教师屈莱尔牧师(现在已是以林的主教)向侯爵夫人的神师莫耳神父提出宗教上的问题互相辩论.三个人一面喝酒,勋爵便鼓动牛津和圣阿舍尔(圣阿舍尔(Ｓｔ．Ａｃｈｅｕｌ),是法国亚眠昂斯地方耶稣会会员的大学.)的代表斗口争吵.他一会儿说:"妙哇,拉铁麦(拉铁麦(Ｈｕｇｈ　Ｌａｔｉｍｅｒ,１４８５—１５５５),英国的天主教神父,当时的教会认为他的见解中很多异端邪说,在１５５５年将他烧死.)!"一会儿说:"说的对,罗耀拉(罗耀拉(Ｓｔ．Ｉｇｎａｔｉｕｓ　Ｌｏｙｏｌａ,１４９１—１５５６),西班牙人,首创耶稣会,当年天主教的势力在各地扩展,全靠他的力量.)!"他答应莫耳说如果他肯改奉新教就给他做主教,又对屈莱尔赌神发咒的说如果他肯改奉旧教,他就设法替他谋到红衣主教的位置,可是他们两个都不肯放弃原有的信仰.痴心的母亲本来希望宝贝的小儿子有一天会皈依真教,回到慈爱的教会的怀抱里来.可怜这位虔诚的侯爵夫人注定还得受到一个极大的打击,好像是上天因为她婚后不守闺范,给她这个惩罚.     所有阅读《缙绅录》的人都知道,岗脱勋爵娶的就是尊贵的贝亚爱格思家的白朗茜.铁色尔乌特小姐;在我们这本真实的历史里面,也曾提到她的名字.他们夫妻住了岗脱大厦侧面的房子,因为这家的家长喜欢使一家人都受他辖治,一切由他摆布.他的长子和老婆不合,不大住在家里,父亲给他的钱有限得很,他为弥补不足起见,把将来的遗产做抵押,向别人借钱来花.他欠的每一笔债侯爵都知道.在侯爵死后,大家发现他生前把大儿子盖印的债券买回来好些,指明把这份财产传给小儿子的儿女享用.     岗脱勋爵没有孩子,他自己觉得气馁,他的父亲......也就是他天生的冤家,却暗暗得意.因为他没有孩子,家里只好把正在维也纳忙着做外交官和跳华尔兹舞的乔治.岗脱勋爵召回家来,替他娶了一房媳妇,就是第一代海尔维林男爵约翰.约翰士的独生女儿琼恩小姐.男爵同时又是塞莱特尼特尔街上琼斯.白朗和罗宾逊合营银行的大股东.这对小夫妻生了几个儿女,可是这些孩子和本文没有关系.     他们的婚姻起初很美满.乔治.岗脱勋爵不但识字,写的也还不大有错,法文说得相当流利,又是欧洲跳华尔兹的名手.他有了这些才干,在本国又有靠山,不用说一定能在外交界做到最高的位置.他的妻子觉得按自己的身分,应该在宫廷里出入才对,所以丈夫在欧洲大陆各城市做外交官,她就时常请客.她自己家里有的是钱,所以请起客来排场阔的了不得.外面谣传说政府将要委派乔治.岗脱做公使,好些人在旅客俱乐部下赌注赌输赢,说他不久就要做大使.忽然,又有谣言说他举止失常.有一回他的上司大宴宾客,请的都是外交界要人,他突然站起来说鹅肝酱里面是搁过毒药的.又有一回,巴伐里亚的公使斯泼灵卜克.霍亨拉芬伯爵在旅馆开跳舞会,他也去了,把头剃得光光的,打扮得活像个行脚僧.有些人帮他掩饰,说那一回开的是化装跳舞会,其实何尝是那么回事呢?大家暗底下都说这里面有些蹊跷.他的祖父就是这样的.这是遗传的恶病.     他的妻子儿女回到本国,在岗脱大厦住下来.乔治勋爵辞掉了欧洲的职务,公报上登载说他到巴西去了.可是外面大家知道得很清楚;他一直没从巴西回来,也没有死在巴西,也没有住在巴西,根本就没有到过巴西.哪儿都瞧不见他,仿佛世界上从此没有他这个人了.背地里嚼舌头的人嬉皮笑脸的说:"巴西,巴西就是圣约翰树林子,里约.热内卢就是四面围着高墙的小房子.乔治.岗脱日夜有人守着.看护送了他一条绶带,那就是疯子穿的紧身衣."在名利场中,身后受到的批评不过是这样.     每星期中有两三次,可怜的母亲清早起来,先到神父那里忏悔,然后去探望苦恼的疯子.他有时笑她,那笑声竟比他的啼哭还凄惨.这个公子哥儿派头的外交官以前在维也纳大会上出足风头,如今只会拖着小孩的玩具走来走去,或是抱着看护的孩子的洋娃娃.他头脑清楚的时候,也认得母亲和她的神师和朋友莫耳神父,不过糊涂的时候居多.一糊涂起来,就把母亲.老婆.孩子.爱情.虚名浮利.壮志雄心,一股脑儿都忘光了.吃饭的钟点他可记得,如果酒里搀的水太多,酒味淡薄,他就哭起来.     这莫名其妙的恶病是胎里带来的.可怜的母亲那一方面是个旧族,上代一向有这种病,父亲这一方面,也有一两个人发过疯.那是老早的事了,当年斯丹恩夫人还没有失足,她也还没有用眼泪来洗刷自己的污点,还没有刻苦吃斋的给自己补过赎罪.这一下,体面的世家气焰顿减,那情形仿佛法老的大儿子突然被上帝击毙似的(见《圣经.出埃及记》.埃及法老屡次阻挠犹太人移民出埃及,上帝震怒,把所有的埃及人的大儿子都杀死.).这家子高高的大门上面刻着世袭的纹章,镂着王冠,可是已经给命运打上了黑印,注定要倒楣.     离家的勋爵还留下几个儿女,这些孩子混混沌沌,不知道自己也难逃劫数,管自有说有笑的活得高兴,慢慢的也长大了.起步他们谈到父亲,想出各种计策防他回来.渐渐的,那虽生犹死的人的名字就不大听见他们说起了,到后来简直绝口不提.他们的祖母想起这些孩子不但会承袭父亲显赫的品位,同时也传着他的污点,心里忧闷.她成天战战兢兢,唯恐祖上传下来的灾祸有一天会临到他们身上.     斯丹恩勋爵本人也觉得将来凶多吉少,暗下里害怕.那恶鬼不离左右的缠在他卧榻旁边,他只好借喝酒作乐把它忘掉.有时一大群人闹哄哄的,那鬼也就隐没了.可是到他一个人独处的当儿,它又来了,而且面目一年比一年狰狞.它说:"我已经拿住了你的儿子,谁说将来不能拿住你呢?也许我会把你像你儿子乔治一般关到监牢里.没准我明天就在你头上啪的打一下,那么名位.享受.大宴会.美人儿.朋友.拍马屁的人.法国厨子.骏马.大厦,一切都化为乌有.只剩下一所监牢,一个看护,一床草荐,叫你过过乔治.岗脱的日子."勋爵不服它的威吓,因为他有法子使它失望.(这里意思是他在未疯之前可以自杀.)     这样看来岗脱大厦这两扇镂了花.刻了王冠纹章的大门后面,有的是财势,可是没有多少快乐.他们家里请起客来是全伦敦最阔气的,坐着吃饭的除了客人以外不觉得有滋味.如果斯丹恩勋爵不是权势赫赫的豪贵,恐怕没有几个人愿意到他那里去走动.好在在名利场中,大家对于大人物全是宽宏大量;就像一位法国太太说的,我们总得细细斟酌过之后才肯攻击勋爵那样有身分的人物.有些吹毛求疵的道学先生和蓄意挑剔的小人可能对于勋爵不满意,可是只要请客有他们的份,他们是一定会去的.     斯林斯登夫人说:"斯丹恩勋爵的人品真是不成话,可是他请客人人都去.女孩儿们反正有我带着,不妨事的."屈莱尔主教想到总主教活不长了,说道:"勋爵帮了我不少忙,我有今天,全靠他的恩典."屈莱尔太太和屈莱尔小姐宁可误了上教堂,断不肯不到斯丹恩家里去作客.莎吴塞唐勋爵的妹妹从前听见妈妈谈起岗脱大厦各种骇人听闻的传说,因此很谦和的劝他不要去.勋爵答道:"他这人全无道德,可是他的息勒里浓香槟酒是全欧洲最上等的货色."至于毕脱.克劳莱从男爵呢,这位文质彬彬的君子,传道会的主持人,根本没想到谢绝勋爵的邀请.从男爵说:"吉恩,像以林的主教和斯林斯登伯爵夫人能到的地方,你就知道去了没错.斯丹恩勋爵品位又高,又有身分,能够辖治咱们地位上的人.亲爱的,区里的行政长官是个体面的人物,而且从前我和乔治.岗脱很熟.我们在本浦聂格尔做参赞的时候,他的位子比我低."     总而言之,人人都去趋奉这位大人物......只要有请帖.就是你这看书的,(别抵赖!)我这写书的,如果收到请帖的话,也会去的."

CHAPTER XLVIII In Which the Reader Is Introduced to the Very Best of Company At last Becky's kindness and attention to the chief of her husband's family were destined to meet with an exceeding great reward, a reward which, though certainly somewhat unsubstantial, the little woman coveted with greater eagerness than more positive benefits. If she did not wish to lead a virtuous life, at least she desired to enjoy a character for virtue, and we know that no lady in the genteel world can possess this desideratum, until she has put on a train and feathers and has been presented to her Sovereign at Court. From that august interview they come out stamped as honest women. The Lord Chamberlain gives them a certificate of virtue. And as dubious goods or letters are passed through an oven at quarantine, sprinkled with aromatic vinegar, and then pronounced clean, many a lady, whose reputation would be doubtful otherwise and liable to give infection, passes through the wholesome ordeal of the Royal presence and issues from it free from all taint. It might be very well for my Lady Bareacres, my Lady Tufto, Mrs. Bute Crawley in the country, and other ladies who had come into contact with Mrs. Rawdon Crawley to cry fie at the idea of the odious little adventuress making her curtsey before the Sovereign, and to declare that, if dear good Queen Charlotte had been alive, she never would have admitted such an extremely ill-regulated personage into her chaste drawing-room. But when we consider that it was the First Gentleman in Europe in whose high presence Mrs. Rawdon passed her examination, and as it were, took her degree in reputation, it surely must be flat disloyalty to doubt any more about her virtue. I, for my part, look back with love and awe to that Great Character in history. Ah, what a high and noble appreciation of Gentlewomanhood there must have been in Vanity Fair, when that revered and august being was invested, by the universal acclaim of the refined and educated portion of this empire, with the title of Premier Gentilhomme of his Kingdom. Do you remember, dear M--, oh friend of my youth, how one blissful night five-and-twenty years since, the "Hypocrite" being acted, Elliston being manager, Dowton and Liston performers, two boys had leave from their loyal masters to go out from Slaughter-House School where they were educated and to appear on Drury Lane stage, amongst a crowd which assembled there to greet the king. THE KING? There he was. Beefeaters were before the august box; the Marquis of Steyne (Lord of the Powder Closet) and other great officers of state were behind the chair on which he sat, HE sat--florid of face, portly of person, covered with orders, and in a rich curling head of hair--how we sang God save him! How the house rocked and shouted with that magnificent music. How they cheered, and cried, and waved handkerchiefs. Ladies wept; mothers clasped their children; some fainted with emotion. People were suffocated in the pit, shrieks and groans rising up amidst the writhing and shouting mass there of his people who were, and indeed showed themselves almost to be, ready to die for him. Yes, we saw him. Fate cannot deprive us of THAT. Others have seen Napoleon. Some few still exist who have beheld Frederick the Great, Doctor Johnson, Marie Antoinette, &c.-- be it our reasonable boast to our children, that we saw George the Good, the Magnificent, the Great. Well, there came a happy day in Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's existence when this angel was admitted into the paradise of a Court which she coveted, her sister-in-law acting as her godmother. On the appointed day, Sir Pitt and his lady, in their great family carriage (just newly built, and ready for the Baronet's assumption of the office of High Sheriff of his county), drove up to the little house in Curzon Street, to the edification of Raggles, who was watching from his greengrocer's shop, and saw fine plumes within, and enormous bunches of flowers in the breasts of the new livery-coats of the footmen. Sir Pitt, in a glittering uniform, descended and went into Curzon Street, his sword between his legs. Little Rawdon stood with his face against the parlour window-panes, smiling and nodding with all his might to his aunt in the carriage within; and presently Sir Pitt issued forth from the house again, leading forth a lady with grand feathers, covered in a white shawl, and holding up daintily a train of magnificent brocade. She stepped into the vehicle as if she were a princess and accustomed all her life to go to Court, smiling graciously on the footman at the door and on Sir Pitt, who followed her into the carriage. Then Rawdon followed in his old Guards' uniform, which had grown woefully shabby, and was much too tight. He was to have followed the procession and waited upon his sovereign in a cab, but that his good-natured sister-in-law insisted that they should be a family party. The coach was large, the ladies not very big, they would hold their trains in their laps--finally, the four went fraternally together, and their carriage presently joined the line of royal equipages which was making its way down Piccadilly and St. James's Street, towards the old brick palace where the Star of Brunswick was in waiting to receive his nobles and gentlefolks. Becky felt as if she could bless the people out of the carriage windows, so elated was she in spirit, and so strong a sense had she of the dignified position which she had at last attained in life. Even our Becky had her weaknesses, and as one often sees how men pride themselves upon excellences which others are slow to perceive: how, for instance, Comus firmly believes that he is the greatest tragic actor in England; how Brown, the famous novelist, longs to be considered, not a man of genius, but a man of fashion; while Robinson, the great lawyer, does not in the least care about his reputation in Westminster Hall, but believes himself incomparable across country and at a five-barred gate--so to be, and to be thought, a respectable woman was Becky's aim in life, and she got up the genteel with amazing assiduity, readiness, and success. We have said, there were times when she believed herself to be a fine lady and forgot that there was no money in the chest at home--duns round the gate, tradesmen to coax and wheedle--no ground to walk upon, in a word. And as she went to Court in the carriage, the family carriage, she adopted a demeanour so grand, self-satisfied, deliberate, and imposing that it made even Lady Jane laugh. She walked into the royal apartments with a toss of the head which would have befitted an empress, and I have no doubt had she been one, she would have become the character perfectly. We are authorized to state that Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's costume de cour on the occasion of her presentation to the Sovereign was of the most elegant and brilliant description. Some ladies we may have seen--we who wear stars and cordons and attend the St. James's assemblies, or we, who, in muddy boots, dawdle up and down Pall Mall and peep into the coaches as they drive up with the great folks in their feathers--some ladies of fashion, I say, we may have seen, about two o'clock of the forenoon of a levee day, as the laced- jacketed band of the Life Guards are blowing triumphal marches seated on those prancing music-stools, their cream-coloured chargers--who are by no means lovely and enticing objects at that early period of noon. A stout countess of sixty, decolletee, painted, wrinkled with rouge up to her drooping eyelids, and diamonds twinkling in her wig, is a wholesome and edifying, but not a pleasant sight. She has the faded look of a St. James's Street illumination, as it may be seen of an early morning, when half the lamps are out, and the others are blinking wanly, as if they were about to vanish like ghosts before the dawn. Such charms as those of which we catch glimpses while her ladyship's carriage passes should appear abroad at night alone. If even Cynthia looks haggard of an afternoon, as we may see her sometimes in the present winter season, with Phoebus staring her out of countenance from the opposite side of the heavens, how much more can old Lady Castlemouldy keep her head up when the sun is shining full upon it through the chariot windows, and showing all the chinks and crannies with which time has marked her face! No. Drawing-rooms should be announced for November, or the first foggy day, or the elderly sultanas of our Vanity Fair should drive up in closed litters, descend in a covered way, and make their curtsey to the Sovereign under the protection of lamplight. Our beloved Rebecca had no need, however, of any such a friendly halo to set off her beauty. Her complexion could bear any sunshine as yet, and her dress, though if you were to see it now, any present lady of Vanity Fair would pronounce it to be the most foolish and preposterous attire ever worn, was as handsome in her eyes and those of the public, some five-and-twenty years since, as the most brilliant costume of the most famous beauty of the present season. A score of years hence that too, that milliner's wonder, will have passed into the domain of the absurd, along with all previous vanities. But we are wandering too much. Mrs. Rawdon's dress was pronounced to be charmante on the eventful day of her presentation. Even good little Lady Jane was forced to acknowledge this effect, as she looked at her kinswoman, and owned sorrowfully to herself that she was quite inferior in taste to Mrs. Becky. She did not know how much care, thought, and genius Mrs. Rawdon had bestowed upon that garment. Rebecca had as good taste as any milliner in Europe, and such a clever way of doing things as Lady Jane little understood. The latter quickly spied out the magnificence of the brocade of Becky's train, and the splendour of the lace on her dress. The brocade was an old remnant, Becky said; and as for the lace, it was a great bargain. She had had it these hundred years. "My dear Mrs. Crawley, it must have cost a little fortune," Lady Jane said, looking down at her own lace, which was not nearly so good; and then examining the quality of the ancient brocade which formed the material of Mrs. Rawdon's Court dress, she felt inclined to say that she could not afford such fine clothing, but checked that speech, with an effort, as one uncharitable to her kinswoman. And yet, if Lady Jane had known all, I think even her kindly temper would have failed her. The fact is, when she was putting Sir Pitt's house in order, Mrs. Rawdon had found the lace and the brocade in old wardrobes, the property of the former ladies of the house, and had quietly carried the goods home, and had suited them to her own little person. Briggs saw her take them, asked no questions, told no stories; but I believe quite sympathised with her on this matter, and so would many another honest woman. And the diamonds--"Where the doose did you get the diamonds, Becky?" said her husband, admiring some jewels which he had never seen before and which sparkled in her ears and on her neck with brilliance and profusion. Becky blushed a little and looked at him hard for a moment. Pitt Crawley blushed a little too, and looked out of window. The fact is, he had given her a very small portion of the brilliants; a pretty diamond clasp, which confined a pearl necklace which she wore--and the Baronet had omitted to mention the circumstance to his lady. Becky looked at her husband, and then at Sir Pitt, with an air of saucy triumph--as much as to say, "Shall I betray you?" "Guess!" she said to her husband. "Why, you silly man," she continued, "where do you suppose I got them?--all except the little clasp, which a dear friend of mine gave me long ago. I hired them, to be sure. I hired them at Mr. Polonius's, in Coventry Street. You don't suppose that all the diamonds which go to Court belong to the wearers; like those beautiful stones which Lady Jane has, and which are much handsomer than any which I have, I am certain." "They are family jewels," said Sir Pitt, again looking uneasy. And in this family conversation the carriage rolled down the street, until its cargo was finally discharged at the gates of the palace where the Sovereign was sitting in state. The diamonds, which had created Rawdon's admiration, never went back to Mr. Polonius, of Coventry Street, and that gentleman never applied for their restoration, but they retired into a little private repository, in an old desk, which Amelia Sedley had given her years and years ago, and in which Becky kept a number of useful and, perhaps, valuable things, about which her husband knew nothing. To know nothing, or little, is in the nature of some husbands. To hide, in the nature of how many women? Oh, ladies! how many of you have surreptitious milliners' bills? How many of you have gowns and bracelets which you daren't show, or which you wear trembling?-- trembling, and coaxing with smiles the husband by your side, who does not know the new velvet gown from the old one, or the new bracelet from last year's, or has any notion that the ragged-looking yellow lace scarf cost forty guineas and that Madame Bobinot is writing dunning letters every week for the money! Thus Rawdon knew nothing about the brilliant diamond ear-rings, or the superb brilliant ornament which decorated the fair bosom of his lady; but Lord Steyne, who was in his place at Court, as Lord of the Powder Closet, and one of the great dignitaries and illustrious defences of the throne of England, and came up with all his stars, garters, collars, and cordons, and paid particular attention to the little woman, knew whence the jewels came and who paid for them. As he bowed over her he smiled, and quoted the hackneyed and beautiful lines from The Rape of the Lock about Belinda's diamonds, "which Jews might kiss and infidels adore." "But I hope your lordship is orthodox," said the little lady with a toss of her head. And many ladies round about whispered and talked, and many gentlemen nodded and whispered, as they saw what marked attention the great nobleman was paying to the little adventuress. What were the circumstances of the interview between Rebecca Crawley, nee Sharp, and her Imperial Master, it does not become such a feeble and inexperienced pen as mine to attempt to relate. The dazzled eyes close before that Magnificent Idea. Loyal respect and decency tell even the imagination not to look too keenly and audaciously about the sacred audience-chamber, but to back away rapidly, silently, and respectfully, making profound bows out of the August Presence. This may be said, that in all London there was no more loyal heart than Becky's after this interview. The name of her king was always on her lips, and he was proclaimed by her to be the most charming of men. She went to Colnaghi's and ordered the finest portrait of him that art had produced, and credit could supply. She chose that famous one in which the best of monarchs is represented in a frock- coat with a fur collar, and breeches and silk stockings, simpering on a sofa from under his curly brown wig. She had him painted in a brooch and wore it--indeed she amused and somewhat pestered her acquaintance with her perpetual talk about his urbanity and beauty. Who knows! Perhaps the little woman thought she might play the part of a Maintenon or a Pompadour. But the finest sport of all after her presentation was to hear her talk virtuously. She had a few female acquaintances, not, it must be owned, of the very highest reputation in Vanity Fair. But being made an honest woman of, so to speak, Becky would not consort any longer with these dubious ones, and cut Lady Crackenbury when the latter nodded to her from her opera-box, and gave Mrs. Washington White the go-by in the Ring. "One must, my dear, show one is somebody," she said. "One mustn't be seen with doubtful people. I pity Lady Crackenbury from my heart, and Mrs. Washington White may be a very good-natured person. YOU may go and dine with them, as you like your rubber. But I mustn't, and won't; and you will have the goodness to tell Smith to say I am not at home when either of them calls." The particulars of Becky's costume were in the newspapers--feathers, lappets, superb diamonds, and all the rest. Lady Crackenbury read the paragraph in bitterness of spirit and discoursed to her followers about the airs which that woman was giving herself. Mrs. Bute Crawley and her young ladies in the country had a copy of the Morning Post from town, and gave a vent to their honest indignation. "If you had been sandy-haired, green-eyed, and a French rope- dancer's daughter," Mrs. Bute said to her eldest girl (who, on the contrary, was a very swarthy, short, and snub-nosed young lady), "You might have had superb diamonds forsooth, and have been presented at Court by your cousin, the Lady Jane. But you're only a gentlewoman, my poor dear child. You have only some of the best blood in England in your veins, and good principles and piety for your portion. I, myself, the wife of a Baronet's younger brother, too, never thought of such a thing as going to Court--nor would other people, if good Queen Charlotte had been alive." In this way the worthy Rectoress consoled herself, and her daughters sighed and sat over the Peerage all night. A few days after the famous presentation, another great and exceeding honour was vouchsafed to the virtuous Becky. Lady Steyne's carriage drove up to Mr. Rawdon Crawley's door, and the footman, instead of driving down the front of the house, as by his tremendous knocking he appeared to be inclined to do, relented and only delivered in a couple of cards, on which were engraven the names of the Marchioness of Steyne and the Countess of Gaunt. If these bits of pasteboard had been beautiful pictures, or had had a hundred yards of Malines lace rolled round them, worth twice the number of guineas, Becky could not have regarded them with more pleasure. You may be sure they occupied a conspicuous place in the china bowl on the drawing-room table, where Becky kept the cards of her visitors. Lord! lord! how poor Mrs. Washington White's card and Lady Crackenbury's card--which our little friend had been glad enough to get a few months back, and of which the silly little creature was rather proud once--Lord! lord! I say, how soon at the appearance of these grand court cards, did those poor little neglected deuces sink down to the bottom of the pack. Steyne! Bareacres, Johnes of Helvellyn! and Caerylon of Camelot! we may be sure that Becky and Briggs looked out those august names in the Peerage, and followed the noble races up through all the ramifications of the family tree. My Lord Steyne coming to call a couple of hours afterwards, and looking about him, and observing everything as was his wont, found his ladies' cards already ranged as the trumps of Becky's hand, and grinned, as this old cynic always did at any naive display of human weakness. Becky came down to him presently; whenever the dear girl expected his lordship, her toilette was prepared, her hair in perfect order, her mouchoirs, aprons, scarfs, little morocco slippers, and other female gimcracks arranged, and she seated in some artless and agreeable posture ready to receive him--whenever she was surprised, of course, she had to fly to her apartment to take a rapid survey of matters in the glass, and to trip down again to wait upon the great peer. She found him grinning over the bowl. She was discovered, and she blushed a little. "Thank you, Monseigneur," she said. "You see your ladies have been here. How good of you! I couldn't come before--I was in the kitchen making a pudding." "I know you were, I saw you through the area-railings as I drove up," replied the old gentleman. "You see everything," she replied. "A few things, but not that, my pretty lady," he said good- naturedly. "You silly little fibster! I heard you in the room overhead, where I have no doubt you were putting a little rouge on-- you must give some of yours to my Lady Gaunt, whose complexion is quite preposterous--and I heard the bedroom door open, and then you came downstairs." "Is it a crime to try and look my best when YOU come here?" answered Mrs. Rawdon plaintively, and she rubbed her cheek with her handkerchief as if to show there was no rouge at all, only genuine blushes and modesty in her case. About this who can tell? I know there is some rouge that won't come off on a pocket-handkerchief, and some so good that even tears will not disturb it. "Well," said the old gentleman, twiddling round his wife's card, "you are bent on becoming a fine lady. You pester my poor old life out to get you into the world. You won't be able to hold your own there, you silly little fool. You've got no money." "You will get us a place," interposed Becky, "as quick as possible." "You've got no money, and you want to compete with those who have. You poor little earthenware pipkin, you want to swim down the stream along with the great copper kettles. All women are alike. Everybody is striving for what is not worth the having! Gad! I dined with the King yesterday, and we had neck of mutton and turnips. A dinner of herbs is better than a stalled ox very often. You will go to Gaunt House. You give an old fellow no rest until you get there. It's not half so nice as here. You'll be bored there. I am. My wife is as gay as Lady Macbeth, and my daughters as cheerful as Regan and Goneril. I daren't sleep in what they call my bedroom. The bed is like the baldaquin of St. Peter's, and the pictures frighten me. I have a little brass bed in a dressing-room, and a little hair mattress like an anchorite. I am an anchorite. Ho! ho! You'll be asked to dinner next week. And gare aux femmes, look out and hold your own! How the women will bully you!" This was a very long speech for a man of few words like my Lord Steyne; nor was it the first which he uttered for Becky's benefit on that day. Briggs looked up from the work-table at which she was seated in the farther room and gave a deep sigh as she heard the great Marquis speak so lightly of her sex. "If you don't turn off that abominable sheep-dog," said Lord Steyne, with a savage look over his shoulder at her, "I will have her poisoned." "I always give my dog dinner from my own plate," said Rebecca, laughing mischievously; and having enjoyed for some time the discomfiture of my lord, who hated poor Briggs for interrupting his tete-a-tete with the fair Colonel's wife, Mrs. Rawdon at length had pity upon her admirer, and calling to Briggs, praised the fineness of the weather to her and bade her to take out the child for a walk. "I can't send her away," Becky said presently, after a pause, and in a very sad voice. Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke, and she turned away her head. "You owe her her wages, I suppose?" said the Peer. "Worse than that," said Becky, still casting down her eyes; "I have ruined her." "Ruined her? Then why don't you turn her out?" the gentleman asked. "Men do that," Becky answered bitterly. "Women are not so bad as you. Last year, when we were reduced to our last guinea, she gave us everything. She shall never leave me, until we are ruined utterly ourselves, which does not seem far off, or until I can pay her the utmost farthing." "------ it, how much is it?" said the Peer with an oath. And Becky, reflecting on the largeness of his means, mentioned not only the sum which she had borrowed from Miss Briggs, but one of nearly double the amount. This caused the Lord Steyne to break out in another brief and energetic expression of anger, at which Rebecca held down her head the more and cried bitterly. "I could not help it. It was my only chance. I dare not tell my husband. He would kill me if I told him what I have done. I have kept it a secret from everybody but you-- and you forced it from me. Ah, what shall I do, Lord Steyne? for I am very, very unhappy!" Lord Steyne made no reply except by beating the devil's tattoo and biting his nails. At last he clapped his hat on his head and flung out of the room. Rebecca did not rise from her attitude of misery until the door slammed upon him and his carriage whirled away. Then she rose up with the queerest expression of victorious mischief glittering in her green eyes. She burst out laughing once or twice to herself, as she sat at work, and sitting down to the piano, she rattled away a triumphant voluntary on the keys, which made the people pause under her window to listen to her brilliant music. That night, there came two notes from Gaunt House for the little woman, the one containing a card of invitation from Lord and Lady Steyne to a dinner at Gaunt House next Friday, while the other enclosed a slip of gray paper bearing Lord Steyne's signature and the address of Messrs. Jones, Brown, and Robinson, Lombard Street. Rawdon heard Becky laughing in the night once or twice. It was only her delight at going to Gaunt House and facing the ladies there, she said, which amused her so. But the truth was that she was occupied with a great number of other thoughts. Should she pay off old Briggs and give her her conge? Should she astonish Raggles by settling his account? She turned over all these thoughts on her pillow, and on the next day, when Rawdon went out to pay his morning visit to the Club, Mrs. Crawley (in a modest dress with a veil on) whipped off in a hackney-coach to the City: and being landed at Messrs. Jones and Robinson's bank, presented a document there to the authority at the desk, who, in reply, asked her "How she would take it?" She gently said "she would take a hundred and fifty pounds in small notes and the remainder in one note": and passing through St. Paul's Churchyard stopped there and bought the handsomest black silk gown for Briggs which money could buy; and which, with a kiss and the kindest speeches, she presented to the simple old spinster. Then she walked to Mr. Raggles, inquired about his children affectionately, and gave him fifty pounds on account. Then she went to the livery-man from whom she jobbed her carriages and gratified him with a similar sum. "And I hope this will be a lesson to you, Spavin," she said, "and that on the next drawing-room day my brother, Sir Pitt, will not be inconvenienced by being obliged to take four of us in his carriage to wait upon His Majesty, because my own carriage is not forthcoming." It appears there had been a difference on the last drawing-room day. Hence the degradation which the Colonel had almost suffered, of being obliged to enter the presence of his Sovereign in a hack cab. These arrangements concluded, Becky paid a visit upstairs to the before-mentioned desk, which Amelia Sedley had given her years and years ago, and which contained a number of useful and valuable little things--in which private museum she placed the one note which Messrs. Jones and Robinson's cashier had given her. 第 四 十 八 章    社会的最上层     蓓基对于克劳莱的一家之主那一番关切和殷勤,总算得到了极大的酬报.这虽然不过是个空场面,她倒看得比任何实在的好处还重,眼巴巴的盼了多少时候了.她并不想过良家妇女的生活,却喜欢有良家妇女的名声.我们知道在上等社会里的女人如果要具备这个条件,一定得穿上拖地的长裙,戴上鸵鸟毛,进宫朝见过国王才行.经过这次大典之后,她们就算身价清白,好像御前大臣给了她们一张德行完美的证书.比方说,凡是可能带传染病菌的货物和信件,检疫所只要把它们搁在汽锅里烘焙一下,然后洒上些香醋,就算消了毒;以此类推,名声不大好听,可能把别人沾带得不清不白的女人也只要经过一次有益身心的考验,在国王面前露过脸,所有的污点也就洗干净了.     贝亚爱格思夫人,德夫托夫人,乡下的别德.克劳莱太太,还有好些跟罗登.克劳莱太太打过交道的奶奶小姐们,听说这可恶的江湖女骗子竟敢对着王上屈膝行礼,不消说心里大不服气.她们断定如果亲爱的夏洛特皇后(夏洛特皇后(Ｑｕｅｅｎ　Ｃｈａｒｌｏｔｔｅ),指夏洛特.莎菲(Ｃｈａｒｌｏｔｔｅ　Ｓｏｐｈｉａ),乔治第三之后,１８１８年死.)还在的话,决不准这样一个品行不端的女人走到她玉洁冰清的客厅里去.可是你想,当年正是"欧洲第一君子"(指英王乔治第四.)当政的时候,罗登太太这一进宫,仿佛是在他面前经过考试而得到了名誉上的学位,你如果再信不过她的品德,岂不是等于对国王不忠诚吗?至少拿我来说,每逢回想到这位历史上的大人物,心上就觉得又敬又爱.我们帝国之中有教育有修养的人一致颂扬我们至圣至尊的王上为"国内第一君子",可见君子之道在名利场中还是受到极高的敬仰.亲爱的麦......,我幼年的朋友!你还记得吗?二十五年前,一个幸福的晚上,《伪君子》(爱赛克.别克斯大夫(Ｉｓｓａｃ　Ｂｉｃｋｅｒｓｔａｆｆｅ,１７３５—１８１２)的有名讽刺剧,在１８１０年上演,在当时算是盛事.)在特鲁瑞戏院上演,当时爱立斯顿是经理,陶登和里思登是演员,屠宰场学校(萨克雷小时进的学校是国家下特许状设立的查特豪斯公立学校(Ｃｈａｒｔｅｒ　Ｈｏｕｓｅ),他时常称它为屠宰学校(Ｓｌａｕｇｈｔｅｒ　Ｈｏｕｓｅ),因为他认为这学校的制度摧残儿童身心,学生们仿佛在受宰割.)里有两个孩子得到老师特准,爬到戏台上挤在人堆里面欢迎王上,这事你想来还没忘掉吧?王上?喏,他就在那儿.他的尊贵的包厢前面排列着护兵,尚粉大臣斯丹恩侯爵和许多政府里的大官儿站在他椅子背后.他端坐在自己位子上,满面红光,身材高大,头发又多又卷,满身挂了勋章.唉,我们唱"天佑我王"唱的多起劲啊!雄壮的音乐在戏院里响成一片,真正是声震屋宇.所有的人都在欢呼.叫嚷.摇手帕.女客们有掉眼泪的,有搂着孩子的,有些人感动得甚至于晕过去.坐在戏院后面的人差点儿没闷死,大伙儿一面扯起嗓子嚷嚷,一面推推挤挤,还有些人闷的受不住,叫的叫,哼唧的哼唧.在场的人人都肯为国王陛下牺牲性命;照当时的情形看来,他们真的准备为他死了.我们竟看见了王上,连命运之神也不能剥夺我们那一回的经验.有些人见过拿破仑,还有几个积古的老人见过弗莱特烈大帝.约翰逊博士.玛丽.安东尼等等,将来我们也能对下一代夸口,说我们见过圣明的.威严的.了不起的乔治.别人总不能说我吹牛吹得没有道理吧? 　　罗登.克劳莱太太的好日子来了.这位贤慧的妇人由她嫂子做引见人,进宫朝拜了王上,好比踏进了久已渴望的天堂.到指定的一天,毕脱爵士夫妇坐了家里的大马车(这车子刚刚造好,到从男爵选上了区里的行政长官马上就能拿出来用),一直到克生街的房子前面停下来.这一下,连拉哥尔斯也托赖着见了世面.他正在自己的菜蔬铺子里,只见马车里好多漂亮的鸵鸟毛,跟班的全穿上新号衣,胸口戴着一大把花儿.     毕脱爵士一身光鲜的礼服,身旁挂着宝剑,从车上下来一直走到屋子里面.小罗登正在客厅靠窗站着,把个脸儿贴着玻璃,笑嘻嘻的使劲对马车里的大娘点头打招呼.过了一会儿,毕脱爵士扶着一位夫人从屋里回出来,她身上是洁白松软的鸵鸟毛,披着白披肩,一只手轻轻巧巧的提起了贵重的缎子长裙.她走上马车,仪态雍容的向门口的听差和跟她进车子的毕脱爵士微笑着,那风度竟好像她是向来在宫廷里出入的公主娘娘.     不久,罗登也跟着出来了.他穿了先前禁卫军的制服,这身衣服不但嫌紧,而且旧得难看.本来说好让他迟走一步,坐着街车到宫里会合.可是他好心的嫂嫂一定要请他和大伙儿一起去.反正他们的车子很宽,两位太太个儿又不大,只消把长裙兜过来放在膝盖上就行了.结果他们四个人坐了一车,显得兄弟和睦.过了一会儿,车子给夹在一长行华丽的马车中间,一起由毕加迪莱和圣詹姆士街向皇宫那边走.白伦息克的显赫的大人物便在这座砖砌的圣詹姆士皇宫里等着接见他治下的贵族和绅士们.     蓓基这遭真是踌躇满志;她如愿以偿,总算挣到了非常体面的地位,深深的感到得意,乐得她直想祝福路上的行人.原来连我们的蓓基也有她的弱点.我们常见有些人自以为有出人头地的本领,殊不知这种本领除掉自己之外别人却不大看得出来.譬如说,考墨斯绝对相信自己是全英国最了不起的悲剧演员;有名的小说家白朗不在乎别人把他当作天才,只求上流社会里有他的地位;了不起的律师罗宾逊不希罕自己在国会议事厅里的名声多么响,却自信是打猎的能手,以为骑马跳栏的本领比什么人都高强.拿蓓基来说,她的志向就是做个体面的正经女人,同时也希望别人把她当体面的正经女人看.她学着上流妇人的一套儿做作,学得努力,学得快,学得好,成绩是惊人的.上面说过,有的时候她当真以为自己是个高贵的太太,忘了家里的钱柜空空如也,大门外面等着要债的,自己非得甜嘴蜜舌的哄着做买卖的才过得下去,简直是个没有立足之地的可怜虫.那天她坐在马车里......自备的马车里,仪态雍容,气度大方,又得意,又威风,看着她的张致,连吉恩夫人也忍不住觉得好笑.她走进皇宫的时候,高高的扬起了脸儿,那样子活像个皇后.我相信即使她真正做了皇后,举止行动一定也是非常得体的.     罗登.克劳莱太太觐见王上那天穿的礼服真是又典雅又富丽,这是千真万确的事实.出入宫廷的贵妇人只有两种人看得见,一种是戴着宝星.挂着绶带.有资格出席圣詹姆士皇宫集会的豪贵;另一种是穿着泥污肮脏的靴子在帕尔莫尔大街上游荡的闲人.一辆辆马车载着用鸵鸟毛做装饰的贵妇人走过的时候,他们倒也有机会偷看一两眼.在宫廷集会的日子,下午两点钟,御前卫兵便吹起胜利进行曲来了.他们穿了钉花边的短外套,骑着跳跳纵纵的黄骠马,因为普通的乐师奏乐的时候坐在凳子上,他们可得骑在马上吹喇叭.在大白日里,时髦妇人实在说不上有什么迷人可爱的地方.六十岁的伯爵夫人,身段肥胖,穿了袒胸露肩的衣服,脸皮皱得满是褶裥,却搽得有红有白,单是胭脂就一直抹到宽得往下搭拉的眼皮底下,头上是假头发,里面亮晶晶的全是金刚钻.瞧着这样子,我们也算长了见识,可并不觉得顺眼.她那憔悴的容颜令人想起圣詹姆士街上清早的光景,一半的路灯已经灭了,另外的一半一闪一烁,发出惨淡的黄光,好像黎明以前快要隐没的鬼魅.我们在伯爵夫人马车里瞧见的美人儿应该在晚上露脸才对.在下午,连月亮神沁茜亚都显得憔悴.现在是冬天,我们时常看见她和太阳神菲勃斯在天空里遥遥相对,菲勃斯光着眼瞧她,瞪得她脸上失色.沁茜亚尚且如此,卡色尔莫迪老夫人如何禁得起阳光从马车窗口直照着她的脸,把岁月留在上面的皱纹老态都暴露得清清楚楚呢?宫廷集会应该等到十一月里,或者是重雾开始的日子举行才是.要不然,名利场中有年纪的太太只好紧紧的关在轿子里抬着上皇宫,还得挑个头上有遮盖的地方下轿,然后在灯光的保护之下对国王朝拜.     亲爱的利蓓加还不需要靠灯光来衬托她的美貌.不管在多么强烈的阳光底下,她的脸色仍旧显得鲜嫩.至于她的穿戴,现在的时髦女子一定会嘲笑它荒唐可笑,可是二十五年以前,不但蓓基自己觉得漂亮,别人也公认她漂亮,竟和时下最有名的美人儿身上的华服艳裳不相上下.再过二十年,眼前最出风头的打扮也就和其他过时的装束一样,只好博大家一笑了.如今我们且言归正传.进宫是个大典,利蓓加穿戴得十分俏丽,引得人人夸赞.吉恩夫人是个老实人,她对小婶子打量了一番,不得不承认她修饰得动人,暗下自叹不及她手段高明.     罗登太太在她的衣服上费了多少心思.精神和天才,吉恩夫人是不知道的.利蓓加穿衣打扮的技术赛得过全欧洲最能干的时装专家.她的手又特别巧,吉恩夫人再也及不上.她对蓓基上下一看,立刻发现不但做后裾的硬缎非常贵重,衣服上的花边也着实精美.     蓓基说那缎子是旧东西,花边买来的时候便宜得少有,撩在手边有好多年了.     "亲爱的克劳莱太太,这花边总得要一大笔款子才买得动吧,"吉恩夫人一面说,一面低下头瞧着自己身上.她的花边,质地的确要差得多.她又细细瞧着罗登太太做礼服用的缎子,很想说自己做不起那么讲究的衣服.可是这话说出来似乎在刻薄小婶子,因此她努力忍住了没有开口.     虽然吉恩夫人心地宽大,如果她知道这些衣料的来历,恐怕未必忍得下这口气.事实是这样的,罗登太太替毕脱爵士收拾房子的时候,在一个旧衣橱里面找到了那花边和锦缎.推想起来,准是从前的主妇留下的东西.她悄没声儿的把这两样东西带回家去,配着她自己苗条的身材做了一套衣服.布立葛丝明明看见她拿东西,并没有问长问短,也不去搬弄是非.我想她在这件事上很同情蓓基.不但是她,就是别的诚实女人,见解一定也跟她一样的.     蓓基还有金刚钻.她丈夫看见她耳朵上是耳环子,脖子上是项圈,亮品晶的戴了许多首饰,觉得真好看,只是自己从来没有看见过,便问道:"蓓基,你的金刚钻首饰是哪儿来的?"     蓓基脸上红了一红,紧紧的对他瞅了一眼.毕脱.克劳莱脸上也微微一红,拿眼望着窗外.原来首饰里面有一件是他的礼物.蓓基的珍珠项圈上一个美丽的金刚钻扣子是他送的.这件事,他并没有对老婆说.     蓓基瞧瞧丈夫,又望望毕脱爵士,那刁钻得意的样儿好像在说:"咱们抖出来怎么样?"     她对丈夫道:"你猜吧!呆子,你细想去吧,我的首饰是哪儿来的?这小扣子是多年前一个好朋友送给我的纪念.除此之外,都是我在考文脱瑞街上波罗尼斯先生铺子里租来的.难道你以为所有进宫的奶奶小姐戴的金刚钻都是她们自己的吗?谁都像吉恩夫人自己有金刚钻首饰呢?我看吉恩夫人的比我的美多了."     毕脱爵士神气又有些不自在,说道:"这些全是上代传下来的头面."他们一面叙家常,马车一面往前走,一直到皇宫门前停下来.然后他们下了车子往宫里去,国王已经在宝座上,准备接见他们.     罗登赏识的金刚钻首饰并没有回到考文脱瑞街上波罗尼斯先生的铺子里去,波罗尼斯先生也不来向她讨.原来这些首饰都给藏到一张旧书桌的抽屉里去了.这书桌还是许多年前爱米丽亚.赛特笠送给她的,蓓基手里几件有用,也许可以说值钱的东西,都瞒着丈夫收在这里.有些丈夫天生不管闲事,有时候什么都不知道.妻子呢,喜欢遮遮掩掩的可多的是.各位太太奶奶,你们里头喜欢私下做衣服买首饰的人有多少?有了新衣服新手镯不敢穿戴的有多少?有时穿上新衣戴上首饰还是战战兢兢,唯恐身旁的丈夫看穿了秘密,只能软语媚笑的哄着他.好在做丈夫的分不清新的丝绒袍子和旧的丝绒袍子有什么不同,今年的手镯和去年的手镯有什么两样,也不知道那一块拖拖拉拉的镂空黄披肩值四十基尼,也想不到波皮诺太太每星期都在写信要账.     罗登太太戴的耳环子,还有她那白嫩的胸口挂着的饰物,全是光彩耀目,珍贵得了不得.这些东西罗登虽然没有看见过,斯丹恩勋爵却知道它们的来历,也知道是谁花钱买下来的.斯丹恩勋爵身为尚粉大臣,算得上国家的柱石,又是御前显要的近侍,那天也在宫里当差.他全身挂满了绶带.宝星和各种勋章,特地迎上来招呼利蓓加.     他对她鞠了一个躬,微笑着援引了《一绺玷污了的鬈发》(十八世纪诗人蒲柏(Ａｌｅｘａｎｄｅｒ　Ｐｏｐｅ)的长诗"Ｔｈｅ　Ｒａｐｅ　ｏｆ　ｔｈｅ　Ｌｏｃｋ.")里面美丽的诗句来奉承她,可惜这句子已经用得太多,成了滥调了.他夸奖蓓基的首饰像诗中女主角贝琳达的一般,"犹太人愿意亲吻,外教人愿意崇拜."     利蓓加把脸儿一扬,答道:"我可希望您大人是信奉正教的基督徒."这位权势赫赫的贵人对于那江湖女骗子那么不避耳目的献殷勤,引得旁边的女客们交头接耳的谈论起来,先生们也在点头点脑,偷偷的批评.     利蓓加.克劳莱(娘家姓夏泼)和王上见面的时候究竟是什么情形,我不敢擅自描写,一则因为我没有写作经验,笔下也不高明,二则我想到这辉煌的人物,已经觉得眼花缭乱,何况我对于国王忠诚虔敬,不敢失了体统,在想像之中都没肯对那神圣的接见室瞧得太仔细.太大胆,只敢诚惶诚恐.肃静无声的快快退出来,一面接二连三深深的鞠躬.     我可以说那么一句话:自从蓓基进宫觐见之后,整个伦敦找不出比她对国王更忠诚的臣民.她口边老是挂着王上的名字,赞叹他风度出众,谁也比不上.她到高尔那奇画师那里去定了一张国王的肖像.凡是艺术能够创造.她的信用可以赊得动的作品,再没有比这张肖像更精美的了.我们最圣明的王上有一张像是很著名的.在画儿里面他穿着方扣子外套,上面一条皮领子,下身是灯笼裤,脚上穿了丝袜,头上戴着鬈曲的棕色假头发,满脸堆笑的坐在椅子上.蓓基挑的就是这一幅;她还叫画师在别针上也画了王上的像,戴在身上.她在熟人面前不断的谈起他态度怎么谦和,相貌怎么轩昂,听的人先是觉得好笑,到后来简直有些腻烦了.谁知道,说不定她还想做孟脱侬(孟脱侬(Ｍａｒｑｕｉｓｅ　ｄｅ　Ｍａｉｎｔｅｎｏｎ,１６５３—１７１９),法国女作家兼教育家,法王路易十四十分推崇她,在１６８４年秘密娶她为续弦.)和邦巴图(邦巴图(Ｐｏｍｐａｄｏｕｒ),法王路易十五的情妇.)呢.     最妙的是听她模仿正经女人的谈吐.她本来也有几个女朋友.说老实话,这些女人在名利场上的名声不算太好.现在蓓基仿佛是做了良家妇女,不屑再和这几个不清白的人为伍.有一次克拉根白莱太太在歌剧院的包厢里对她点头,她睬也不睬;又有一次,华盛顿.霍爱德太太在公园的圆场遇见她,她只装没有看见.她说:"亲爱的,你总得让人家知道你的身分,不能随便跟不清白的人来往.我真可怜克拉根白莱夫人.华盛顿.霍爱德太太为人也不算坏.你是爱玩叶子戏的,如果你爱上她们家去吃饭的话,我也不反对.可是我不能去,也不愿意去.请你告诉斯密士说她们两人来拜访我的时候,只说我不在家."     蓓基进宫时的穿戴,她的鸵鸟毛.耳垂子.漂亮的金刚钻首饰等等,都上了报.克拉根白莱太太看了这段新闻,心里气不过,对她的朋友们批评蓓基,骂她浑身臭架子.乡下的别德.克劳莱太太和她的女儿也得了一分伦敦的《晨报》,看得一肚子气,觉得越是邪道女人越是得意,大大发了一场牢骚.别德太太对她的大女儿说:"如果你长了一窝子淡黄头发,两个绿眼珠子,"(她的大姑娘跟蓓基恰好相反,黑黑的皮肤,短短的身材,一个狮子鼻),"如果你的妈妈是个走绳索的法国女人,那么你倒能够戴着漂亮的金刚钻什么的,叫你嫂子吉恩夫人带着进宫.可怜的孩子,你只不过是个斯文人家的姑娘.你的血统是全英国最好的,你信仰虔诚,做人有节操,这就是你的嫁妆了.我自己呢,也算是嫁了从男爵的弟弟,我可从来没想到要进宫......如果贤明的夏洛特王后活着,我看有些人也就别想进得成."牧师太太这样一说,宽慰了好些.她的女儿们叹口气,把《缙绅录》翻了一黄昏.     有名的觐见仪式过后几天,贤慧的蓓基又得到了不起的面子.有一天,斯丹恩侯爵夫人的马车来到罗登.克劳莱太太的门前,一个听差走下来,使劲的打门,竟好像打算把前半幢房子都给打下来似的,总算他发了慈悲心,只递上两张名片就转身走了.这两张名片一张是斯丹恩侯爵夫人的,一张是岗脱伯爵夫人的.如果这两张纸片儿是美丽的图画,如果纸片外面裹着一百码马林的细花边,一共值二百基尼,蓓基对它们也不会看得更重.在她客厅里的桌子上有一个专搁来客名片的瓷缸,不消说,这两张名片立刻在瓷缸里占了最显眼的地位.天啊,天啊!几个月以前,我们的蓓基还是浅薄得可怜,拿到了克拉根白莱夫人和华盛顿.霍爱德太太的名片就欣欣得意,如今她结识了宫廷贵妇,这两张不值钱的纸片儿立刻退居末位,没人理睬了.斯丹恩!贝亚爱格思!海尔维林的约翰士!加默洛的开厄里昂!多响亮的名字!不消说,蓓基和布立葛丝在《缙绅录》中找出这些尊贵的名字,把他们各家的来历和支派查了个清清楚楚.     两个钟头之后,斯丹恩勋爵来了,他向来喜欢东瞧瞧西望望,什么都逃不过他的眼.这一天他发现他家里两位夫人的名片已经在瓷缸里占了首座,成了蓓基手里的王牌,忍不住笑起来.他对待世人向来是讥诮的态度,倘若你做人不老到,热中的情绪落在他眼睛里,他可就乐了.不久,蓓基从楼上走下来.只要她预先知道勋爵将要光临,一定会把自己修饰得十分俏丽,头发梳得一丝不乱,手帕.围身.披肩.软底鞋和许多女人用的零星东西都给安排得整整齐齐.连坐着的姿态都有讲究,不但动人,而且显得自然,这才等着迎接他.如果勋爵出其不意的来了,她当然只好三步并两步的跑到楼上,匆匆忙忙照照镜子,尽早的下来伺候这位大人物.     她看见侯爵正在对着瓷缸发笑,知道自己露了底,脸上不由得微微一红.她说:"大人,多谢您啦.瞧,你家一位太太一位少奶奶都来过了.你对我太好了.我刚才不能出来,因为我在厨房里做布丁."     老头儿答道:"我知道.我来的时候在栅栏里看见你来着."     她道:"你的眼睛真尖!"     他和颜悦色回答道:"漂亮的太太,我眼睛倒还尖,可就没看见你做布丁.你这小傻瓜就在扯谎!我明明听见你在楼上房间里,想来准在抹胭脂......你该送些胭脂给岗脱夫人,她的脸色难看得简直不成话.后来我听得你的卧房门开了,你就下来了."     罗登太太如怨如诉的说道:"难道说你来了,我不该把自己打扮打扮好看吗?"她把手帕擦抹自己的腮帮子,仿佛要证明她脸上没有胭脂,而是因为羞人答答的,所以有些儿红晕.谁知道这里面的把戏呢?我听说有一种胭脂是手帕擦不下来的,还有一种更好的,连眼泪都洗不掉.     老头儿把他妻子的名片绕着指头儿转,说道:"好,你是打定主意要做个有身分的时髦太太了.你把我这可怜的老头儿逼的走投无路,一定要我拉扯你踏进上流社会.你这傻子,到了哪儿你也站不稳啊!你又没有钱."     蓓基插嘴道:"你给我们找个事吧.越快越好."     "你没有钱,何苦要跟有钱的阔佬争胜要强.你好比是个脆薄的小瓦罐儿,偏要跟大铜吊一块儿比个高下.所有的女人全是一样.人人都为没有价值的东西瞎卖力气.喝,昨天我和王上一起吃饭,我们只吃了个羊颈子,还有些萝卜.有的时候,素菜的味儿比肥牛肉还强呢.你是死活要到岗脱大厦去作客的.去不成的话,就闹得我这老头儿不得安生.其实岗脱大厦哪有这儿好.你去了准会腻烦.我就觉得腻烦.我们家那几个女的可真活泼可爱!我的太太跟麦克白夫人差不了多少,我的两个媳妇和里根和高诺瑞尔(莎士比亚悲剧《李尔王》中两个凶恶的女儿.)不相上下.有一间屋子,说是我的卧房,我连睡都不敢睡进去.那张床就像圣彼得教堂里祭坛上的神龛,屋子里挂的画儿也够怕人的.我只能在梳妆间里搁了一张小铜床,上面铺了一床马鬃褥子,住在那里过隐士的生活.我现在真的成了隐士了,哈,哈!下星期请你来吃饭.你得站稳脚跟,小心那几位太太跟你为难.她们准会欺负你."斯丹恩勋爵向来不大开口,这一席话算是长篇大章的了.那天他对蓓基还说了许多别的话.     布立葛丝正在屋子里另一头坐着做活,听得了不起的侯爵说起女人的时候口气那么轻薄,抬起头来深深的叹了一口气.     斯丹恩勋爵回头向她恶狠狠的瞪了一眼,对蓓基说:"如果你不叫那可恶的牧羊狗出去,我就毒死她."     利蓓加顽皮的笑道:"不行,我的狗跟我在一个碗里吃饭的."勋爵对俊俏的上校太太十分倾倒,可是碍着布立葛丝,不能说体己话,心里恼怒,利蓓加瞧着他那无可奈何的样子只觉得好玩.过了一会儿,总算她发善心,把布立葛丝叫过来,说是天气这么好,应该带孩子出去散散步.     等她出去以后,蓓基半晌不说话,然后悲悲戚戚的说道:"我不能叫她走."她一面说,一面眼泪汪汪的回过头去瞧着别处.     勋爵问道:"我想你大概欠了她的工钱没付?"     蓓基依旧瞧着地下,答道:"比这更糟糕,她给我弄得一个子儿都不剩了."     "一个子儿都不剩了?那么干吗不赶她出去呢?"     蓓基气恨道:"男人才肯这样坏心肠,我们女人可不跟你们一样.去年我们钱都花完了,亏得她倾其所有帮我过了关.我是不肯撵她走的,除非我一个子儿不欠她,至少也得等我们自己也到了山穷水尽的地步再说......照目前的情形,这日子可也不远了."     勋爵咒骂了一声说:"你欠她多少?"蓓基一想,侯爵有的是钱,便开口说了一个大数目,差不多比她欠布立葛丝的总数多了一倍.     斯丹恩勋爵听了她的话,又冲口而出骂起人来,虽然只有几个字,却来得有斤量,可见他非常生气.利蓓加把头垂得更低,伤心的哭着说:"叫我怎么样呢?我只有这一条路啊.我又不敢告诉我丈夫.倘或给他知道我干的事,我还有命吗?除了你,我对谁都不敢说.要不是你逼着我,我连你也不告诉的.唉,斯丹恩勋爵,叫我怎么办呢?我真急死了."     斯丹恩勋爵不回答,一会儿咬咬指甲,一会儿把指头冬冬的敲着桌子.后来他突然按上帽子,一摔手就出去了.利蓓加仍旧可怜巴巴的坐在那儿不动,一直到斯丹恩勋爵走出去砰的一声碰上了房门,又听着他的马车也从门口走掉以后才站起身来.她站起来的时候,一双绿眼睛亮晶晶的,又顽皮,又得意,那表情老大古怪.后来她坐下来做活,有一两次忽然哈哈大笑.过了一会,她坐在钢琴前面弹起琴来,随手编了一段欢乐的曲子,窗外的行人听得她出色的音乐,都停下来听.     当晚从岗脱大厦送来两封信.一个信封里面是请帖,原来斯丹恩侯爵和侯爵夫人请她下星期五到岗脱大厦吃晚饭.另外一个信封里面是一张灰色的小纸条,上面有斯丹恩勋爵的图章和朗白街琼斯.白朗和罗宾逊合营银行的地址.     罗登半夜听得蓓基失声大笑了一两次.她说她想着能到岗脱大厦去吃饭,跟那家子尊贵的太太奶奶见面,觉得真好玩,所以高兴的笑起来.其实她心里还在盘算许多别的事.还是把布立葛丝的债付掉了打发她走呢,还是叫拉哥尔斯惊奇一下子,跟他清一清账?她睡在枕上,把这些事细细想过.第二天早上,罗登到俱乐部去了,克劳莱太太穿了一件普通衣服,戴上面网,坐了街车一径来到市中心那家银行里,拿出支票来交到柜台上出纳员的手里.出纳员问她:"怎么样拿法?"     她温柔地答道:"一百五十镑小票子,其余的做一注打一张大票给我."她经过圣保罗公墓附近,替布立葛丝买了一件贵重的黑绸袍子.她把这份礼物送给那忠厚的老小姐,并且吻了她一下,对她说了些好话.     然后她走到拉哥尔斯家里,亲亲热热的问候他的孩子,又给了他五十镑,算是付了一期账.过后她又去找出租马车的车行主人,也给他五十镑.她说:"斯百文,我希望你从此得到一个教训.上一回我到宫里去,自己没有车,我们四个人只能一起挤在我哥哥毕脱爵士的车子里,多不方便啊!下一回我再进宫,你该放明白点儿了."原来上次进宫的时候那车行主人对他们很不客气,所以上校差些儿只能坐了街车去朝见国王,这当然是大失体统的事.     这些事情办完之后,蓓基上楼去开了前面说过的书桌,......这书桌是多年以前爱米丽亚.赛特笠送给她的,里面搁着好多有用和值钱的零星小东西.银行出纳员给她的那张大票,她也收在这私人贮藏所里.

CHAPTER XLIX
In Which We Enjoy Three Courses and a Dessert
When the ladies of Gaunt House were at breakfast that morning, Lord Steyne (who took his chocolate in private and seldom disturbed the females of his household, or saw them except upon public days, or when they crossed each other in the hall, or when from his pit-box at the opera he surveyed them in their box on the grand tier) his lordship, we say, appeared among the ladies and the children who were assembled over the tea and toast, and a battle royal ensued apropos of Rebecca.
"My Lady Steyne," he said, "I want to see the list for your dinner on Friday; and I want you, if you please, to write a card for Colonel and Mrs. Crawley."
"Blanche writes them," Lady Steyne said in a flutter. "Lady Gaunt writes them."
"I will not write to that person," Lady Gaunt said, a tall and stately lady, who looked up for an instant and then down again after she had spoken. It was not good to meet Lord Steyne's eyes for those who had offended him.
"Send the children out of the room. Go!" said he pulling at the bell-rope. The urchins, always frightened before him, retired: their mother would have followed too. "Not you," he said. "You stop."
"My Lady Steyne," he said, "once more will you have the goodness to go to the desk and write that card for your dinner on Friday?"
"My Lord, I will not be present at it," Lady Gaunt said; "I will go home."
"I wish you would, and stay there. You will find the bailiffs at Bareacres very pleasant company, and I shall be freed from lending money to your relations and from your own damned tragedy airs. Who are you to give orders here? You have no money. You've got no brains. You were here to have children, and you have not had any. Gaunt's tired of you, and George's wife is the only person in the family who doesn't wish you were dead. Gaunt would marry again if you were."
"I wish I were," her Ladyship answered with tears and rage in her eyes.
"You, forsooth, must give yourself airs of virtue, while my wife, who is an immaculate saint, as everybody knows, and never did wrong in her life, has no objection to meet my young friend Mrs. Crawley. My Lady Steyne knows that appearances are sometimes against the best of women; that lies are often told about the most innocent of them. Pray, madam, shall I tell you some little anecdotes about my Lady Bareacres, your mamma?"
"You may strike me if you like, sir, or hit any cruel blow," Lady Gaunt said. To see his wife and daughter suffering always put his Lordship into a good humour.
"My sweet Blanche," he said, "I am a gentleman, and never lay my hand upon a woman, save in the way of kindness. I only wish to correct little faults in your character. You women are too proud, and sadly lack humility, as Father Mole, I'm sure, would tell my Lady Steyne if he were here. You mustn't give yourselves airs; you must be meek and humble, my blessings. For all Lady Steyne knows, this calumniated, simple, good-humoured Mrs. Crawley is quite innocent--even more innocent than herself. Her husband's character is not good, but it is as good as Bareacres', who has played a little and not paid a great deal, who cheated you out of the only legacy you ever had and left you a pauper on my hands. And Mrs. Crawley is not very well-born, but she is not worse than Fanny's illustrious ancestor, the first de la Jones."
"The money which I brought into the family, sir," Lady George cried out--
"You purchased a contingent reversion with it," the Marquis said darkly. "If Gaunt dies, your husband may come to his honours; your little boys may inherit them, and who knows what besides? In the meanwhile, ladies, be as proud and virtuous as you like abroad, but don't give ME any airs. As for Mrs. Crawley's character, I shan't demean myself or that most spotless and perfectly irreproachable lady by even hinting that it requires a defence. You will be pleased to receive her with the utmost cordiality, as you will receive all persons whom I present in this house. This house?" He broke out with a laugh. "Who is the master of it? and what is it? This Temple of Virtue belongs to me. And if I invite all Newgate or all Bedlam here, by ------ they shall be welcome."
After this vigorous allocution, to one of which sort Lord Steyne treated his "Hareem" whenever symptoms of insubordination appeared in his household, the crestfallen women had nothing for it but to obey. Lady Gaunt wrote the invitation which his Lordship required, and she and her mother-in-law drove in person, and with bitter and humiliated hearts, to leave the cards on Mrs. Rawdon, the reception of which caused that innocent woman so much pleasure.
There were families in London who would have sacrificed a year's income to receive such an honour at the hands of those great ladies. Mrs. Frederick Bullock, for instance, would have gone on her knees from May Fair to Lombard Street, if Lady Steyne and Lady Gaunt had been waiting in the City to raise her up and say, "Come to us next Friday"--not to one of the great crushes and grand balls of Gaunt House, whither everybody went, but to the sacred, unapproachable, mysterious, delicious entertainments, to be admitted to one of which was a privilege, and an honour, and a blessing indeed.
Severe, spotless, and beautiful, Lady Gaunt held the very highest rank in Vanity Fair. The distinguished courtesy with which Lord Steyne treated her charmed everybody who witnessed his behaviour, caused the severest critics to admit how perfect a gentleman he was, and to own that his Lordship's heart at least was in the right place.
The ladies of Gaunt House called Lady Bareacres in to their aid, in order to repulse the common enemy. One of Lady Gaunt's carriages went to Hill Street for her Ladyship's mother, all whose equipages were in the hands of the bailiffs, whose very jewels and wardrobe, it was said, had been seized by those inexorable Israelites. Bareacres Castle was theirs, too, with all its costly pictures, furniture, and articles of vertu--the magnificent Vandykes; the noble Reynolds pictures; the Lawrence portraits, tawdry and beautiful, and, thirty years ago, deemed as precious as works of real genius; the matchless Dancing Nymph of Canova, for which Lady Bareacres had sat in her youth--Lady Bareacres splendid then, and radiant in wealth, rank, and beauty--a toothless, bald, old woman now--a mere rag of a former robe of state. Her lord, painted at the same time by Lawrence, as waving his sabre in front of Bareacres Castle, and clothed in his uniform as Colonel of the Thistlewood Yeomanry, was a withered, old, lean man in a greatcoat and a Brutus wig, slinking about Gray's Inn of mornings chiefly and dining alone at clubs. He did not like to dine with Steyne now. They had run races of pleasure together in youth when Bareacres was the winner. But Steyne had more bottom than he and had lasted him out. The Marquis was ten times a greater man now than the young Lord Gaunt of '85, and Bareacres nowhere in the race--old, beaten, bankrupt, and broken down. He had borrowed too much money of Steyne to find it pleasant to meet his old comrade often. The latter, whenever he wished to be merry, used jeeringly to ask Lady Gaunt why her father had not come to see her. "He has not been here for four months," Lord Steyne would say. "I can always tell by my cheque-book afterwards, when I get a visit from Bareacres. What a comfort it is, my ladies, I bank with one of my sons' fathers-in-law, and the other banks with me!"
Of the other illustrious persons whom Becky had the honour to encounter on this her first presentation to the grand world, it does not become the present historian to say much. There was his Excellency the Prince of Peterwaradin, with his Princess--a nobleman tightly girthed, with a large military chest, on which the plaque of his order shone magnificently, and wearing the red collar of the Golden Fleece round his neck. He was the owner of countless flocks. "Look at his face. I think he must be descended from a sheep," Becky whispered to Lord Steyne. Indeed, his Excellency's countenance, long, solemn, and white, with the ornament round his neck, bore some resemblance to that of a venerable bell-wether.
There was Mr. John Paul Jefferson Jones, titularly attached to the American Embassy and correspondent of the New York Demagogue, who, by way of making himself agreeable to the company, asked Lady Steyne, during a pause in the conversation at dinner, how his dear friend, George Gaunt, liked the Brazils? He and George had been most intimate at Naples and had gone up Vesuvius together. Mr. Jones wrote a full and particular account of the dinner, which appeared duly in the Demagogue. He mentioned the names and titles of all the guests, giving biographical sketches of the principal people. He described the persons of the ladies with great eloquence; the service of the table; the size and costume of the servants; enumerated the dishes and wines served; the ornaments of the sideboard; and the probable value of the plate. Such a dinner he calculated could not be dished up under fifteen or eighteen dollars per head. And he was in the habit, until very lately, of sending over proteges, with letters of recommendation to the present Marquis of Steyne, encouraged to do so by the intimate terms on which he had lived with his dear friend, the late lord. He was most indignant that a young and insignificant aristocrat, the Earl of Southdown, should have taken the pas of him in their procession to the dining- room. "Just as I was stepping up to offer my hand to a very pleasing and witty fashionable, the brilliant and exclusive Mrs. Rawdon Crawley,"--he wrote--"the young patrician interposed between me and the lady and whisked my Helen off without a word of apology. I was fain to bring up the rear with the Colonel, the lady's husband, a stout red-faced warrior who distinguished himself at Waterloo, where he had better luck than befell some of his brother redcoats at New Orleans."
The Colonel's countenance on coming into this polite society wore as many blushes as the face of a boy of sixteen assumes when he is confronted with his sister's schoolfellows. It has been told before that honest Rawdon had not been much used at any period of his life to ladies' company. With the men at the Club or the mess room, he was well enough; and could ride, bet, smoke, or play at billiards with the boldest of them. He had had his time for female friendships too, but that was twenty years ago, and the ladies were of the rank of those with whom Young Marlow in the comedy is represented as having been familiar before he became abashed in the presence of Miss Hardcastle. The times are such that one scarcely dares to allude to that kind of company which thousands of our young men in Vanity Fair are frequenting every day, which nightly fills casinos and dancing-rooms, which is known to exist as well as the Ring in Hyde Park or the Congregation at St. James's--but which the most squeamish if not the most moral of societies is determined to ignore. In a word, although Colonel Crawley was now five-and-forty years of age, it had not been his lot in life to meet with a half dozen good women, besides his paragon of a wife. All except her and his kind sister Lady Jane, whose gentle nature had tamed and won him, scared the worthy Colonel, and on occasion of his first dinner at Gaunt House he was not heard to make a single remark except to state that the weather was very hot. Indeed Becky would have left him at home, but that virtue ordained that her husband should be by her side to protect the timid and fluttering little creature on her first appearance in polite society.
On her first appearance Lord Steyne stepped forward, taking her hand, and greeting her with great courtesy, and presenting her to Lady Steyne, and their ladyships, her daughters. Their ladyships made three stately curtsies, and the elder lady to be sure gave her hand to the newcomer, but it was as cold and lifeless as marble.
Becky took it, however, with grateful humility, and performing a reverence which would have done credit to the best dancer-master, put herself at Lady Steyne's feet, as it were, by saying that his Lordship had been her father's earliest friend and patron, and that she, Becky, had learned to honour and respect the Steyne family from the days of her childhood. The fact is that Lord Steyne had once purchased a couple of pictures of the late Sharp, and the affectionate orphan could never forget her gratitude for that favour.
The Lady Bareacres then came under Becky's cognizance--to whom the Colonel's lady made also a most respectful obeisance: it was returned with severe dignity by the exalted person in question.
"I had the pleasure of making your Ladyship's acquaintance at Brussels, ten years ago," Becky said in the most winning manner. "I had the good fortune to meet Lady Bareacres at the Duchess of Richmond's ball, the night before the Battle of Waterloo. And I recollect your Ladyship, and my Lady Blanche, your daughter, sitting in the carriage in the porte-cochere at the Inn, waiting for horses. I hope your Ladyship's diamonds are safe."
Everybody's eyes looked into their neighbour's. The famous diamonds had undergone a famous seizure, it appears, about which Becky, of course, knew nothing. Rawdon Crawley retreated with Lord Southdown into a window, where the latter was heard to laugh immoderately, as Rawdon told him the story of Lady Bareacres wanting horses and "knuckling down by Jove," to Mrs. Crawley. "I think I needn't be afraid of THAT woman," Becky thought. Indeed, Lady Bareacres exchanged terrified and angry looks with her daughter and retreated to a table, where she began to look at pictures with great energy.
When the Potentate from the Danube made his appearance, the conversation was carried on in the French language, and the Lady Bareacres and the younger ladies found, to their farther mortification, that Mrs. Crawley was much better acquainted with that tongue, and spoke it with a much better accent than they. Becky had met other Hungarian magnates with the army in France in 1816-17. She asked after her friends with great interest The foreign personages thought that she was a lady of great distinction, and the Prince and the Princess asked severally of Lord Steyne and the Marchioness, whom they conducted to dinner, who was that petite dame who spoke so well?
Finally, the procession being formed in the order described by the American diplomatist, they marched into the apartment where the banquet was served, and which, as I have promised the reader he shall enjoy it, he shall have the liberty of ordering himself so as to suit his fancy.
But it was when the ladies were alone that Becky knew the tug of war would come. And then indeed the little woman found herself in such a situation as made her acknowledge the correctness of Lord Steyne's caution to her to beware of the society of ladies above her own sphere. As they say, the persons who hate Irishmen most are Irishmen; so, assuredly, the greatest tyrants over women are women. When poor little Becky, alone with the ladies, went up to the fire- place whither the great ladies had repaired, the great ladies marched away and took possession of a table of drawings. When Becky followed them to the table of drawings, they dropped off one by one to the fire again. She tried to speak to one of the children (of whom she was commonly fond in public places), but Master George Gaunt was called away by his mamma; and the stranger was treated with such cruelty finally, that even Lady Steyne herself pitied her and went up to speak to the friendless little woman.
"Lord Steyne," said her Ladyship, as her wan cheeks glowed with a blush, "says you sing and play very beautifully, Mrs. Crawley--I wish you would do me the kindness to sing to me."
"I will do anything that may give pleasure to my Lord Steyne or to you," said Rebecca, sincerely grateful, and seating herself at the piano, began to sing.
She sang religious songs of Mozart, which had been early favourites of Lady Steyne, and with such sweetness and tenderness that the lady, lingering round the piano, sat down by its side and listened until the tears rolled down her eyes. It is true that the opposition ladies at the other end of the room kept up a loud and ceaseless buzzing and talking, but the Lady Steyne did not hear those rumours. She was a child again--and had wandered back through a forty years' wilderness to her convent garden. The chapel organ had pealed the same tones, the organist, the sister whom she loved best of the community, had taught them to her in those early happy days. She was a girl once more, and the brief period of her happiness bloomed out again for an hour--she started when the jarring doors were flung open, and with a loud laugh from Lord Steyne, the men of the party entered full of gaiety.
He saw at a glance what had happened in his absence, and was grateful to his wife for once. He went and spoke to her, and called her by her Christian name, so as again to bring blushes to her pale face--"My wife says you have been singing like an angel," he said to Becky. Now there are angels of two kinds, and both sorts, it is said, are charming in their way.
Whatever the previous portion of the evening had been, the rest of that night was a great triumph for Becky. She sang her very best, and it was so good that every one of the men came and crowded round the piano. The women, her enemies, were left quite alone. And Mr. Paul Jefferson Jones thought he had made a conquest of Lady Gaunt by going up to her Ladyship and praising her delightful friend's first- rate singing.

第 四 十 九 章    三道正菜和一道甜点心
    那天早晨,岗脱大厦里的几位太太奶奶正在吃早饭,斯丹恩勋爵忽然来了.平常的时候他早上总是独自一人喝他的巧克力茶,不大去打搅妻子和媳妇.事实上,他和那几个女的难得在一起,除非在公众集会上打个照面,或是在过道里偶然相遇;再不就是在歌剧院了;他自己的包厢在底层,她们在楼上贵宾座里,倒还有机会看见一两面.那天婆媳三人和孩子们围着饭桌子喝茶吃烤面包,他大人进来了,接着他们一家就为利蓓加起了一场混战.
    他说:"斯丹恩夫人,让我看看你星期五客人的名单,还要请你写一张请帖,邀克劳莱上校夫妇来吃晚饭."
    斯丹恩夫人慌慌张张的答道:"请帖是白朗茜写的......是岗脱夫人写的."
    岗脱夫人仪态庄重,身量很高,她道:"我不愿意写请帖给那个人."她抬头看了一看,立刻又垂下了眼睛.谁要是得罪了斯丹恩勋爵,他那眼色可不好受.
    "叫孩子们出去.走!"他一面说,一面拉铃.孩子向来怕他,马上出去了.他们的母亲也想跟出去.侯爵说:"你别走.坐下."
    他说:"斯丹恩夫人,我再说一遍,请你过书台那边去,给我写张请帖请他们星期五来吃饭."
    岗脱夫人说道:"勋爵,我星期五不出席,我回家去了."
    "再好也没有,你去了也别回来.你跟贝亚爱格思那儿的地保做伴儿准觉得愉快,也省得我再借钱给你家里的人.打量我爱瞧你那愁眉哭眼的样子吗?你是什么人,就敢在这屋里发号施令?你没有钱,也没有脑子.娶你来就为的是叫你生孩子,可是到今天也没生出来.岗脱早已对你腻味了.这家子里头,除了乔治的老婆,谁不希望你赶快死了拉倒?你死了,岗脱倒能再娶一个."
    "我宁可早死了,"岗脱夫人一面说,一面气得眼泪在眼眶子里打转.
    "人人都知道我的太太是个洁白无瑕的圣人,一辈子没有一个错缝儿.连她都愿意招待我那年轻的朋友克劳莱太太,倒要你来装模作样假正经吗?斯丹恩夫人很明白,最贤德的女人也会遭到嫌疑,最清白的女人也会被人诽谤.太太,你妈妈贝亚爱格思夫人倒有几个故事落在我耳朵里,要我说给你听吗?"
    岗脱夫人道:"您要打我也行,要侮辱我也行."勋爵瞧见他妻子和媳妇心里气苦,脾气也就和顺了.他说:"亲爱的白朗茜,我是个君子人,除非女人需要我帮助,不然我不会挨她们一指头.我只是因为见你性情不好,希望你改过罢了.你们太太们都过于高傲了,做人应该谦和些.如果莫耳神父在这儿的话,准会这样教导斯丹恩夫人.我的好人儿,你们切不可拿架子,凡事虚心下气才是正理.连斯丹恩夫人也拿不准,也许这位心地忠厚,性情和顺,不幸受人毁谤的克劳莱太太根本是个清白的好人......说不定比她本人还清白呢.克劳莱太太的丈夫名声不大好,可也不比贝亚爱格思的名声更坏.你想,你父亲也爱赌赌钱,也不大付赌债,连你承继到手的唯一的财产还给他骗了去,结果把你弄得成了个叫化子,还得叫我为你操心.克劳莱太太出身不好,可是也不见得比法尼的祖宗更差.你的显贵的祖先,那第一代的特.拉.琼斯,也跟她不相上下."
    乔治夫人嚷起来道:"我给您家里带过来的嫁妆......"
    侯爵恶狠狠的答道:"你的钱等于买了一个未来的承继权.如果岗脱死了,他的爵位就是你丈夫的,将来还能传给你的儿子.除此以外,说不定还有别的好处.太太们,在外面,随你们怎么趾高气扬,怎么假装贤慧,我全不管.可是在我面前摆架子可不行.至于克劳莱太太的品行,根本不必我出头说什么话.如果说她这样冰清玉洁.无可责备的完人还需要别人代她辩护,反而玷辱了她,也降低了我的身分.她来了之后,你们得殷殷勤勤招待她.我请到这所房子里来的人,你们怎敢怠慢?这房子?"他笑了一声,"这房子是谁的?这房子是什么?我就是这所贤德庙堂的主人.如果我把纽该脱监狱里的犯人和贝德冷疯人院的疯子请回家,你们也得招待."
    每逢他"后宫"里的女人有不服管束的行为,斯丹恩侯爵便结结实实的教训她们一顿.挨骂的人垂头丧气,除了服从之外,一点儿办法都没有.岗脱夫人依照他的命令写了请帖.她和婆婆两人满心气恼委屈,亲自坐了马车把名片送到罗登太太家里.那位清白无瑕的少奶奶得到名片之后,那份得意就不用说了.
    在伦敦有好些人家,只要这两位夫人肯这样赏脸,就是牺牲一年的进款也是愿意的.拿着弗莱特立克.白洛克太太来说,她就愿意从梅飞厄膝行到朗白街,只要斯丹恩夫人和岗脱夫人在市中心等着扶她起来,并且对她说:"下星期五请上我家来玩."这里所说的不是岗脱大厦的大跳舞会或是来客熙攘的大集会,因为这些倒不难进去;而是神圣的.奥妙的.意味无穷.不可攀接的小宴会.能够踏进这重门的,才算得上有体面享特权的贵客.
    美丽.端庄.洁白无瑕的岗脱夫人在名利场中占了最高的地位.斯丹恩勋爵对她礼貌非常周到,引得在场的人人称扬.连最爱说长道短的人也不得不承认他近人情,行出事来有绅士的风度.
    岗脱大厦的太太奶奶们要打退共同的敌人,特地请了贝亚爱格思老太太来帮忙.岗脱夫人有好几辆马车,打发了一辆到赫尔街去接她母亲来.老夫人自己的车子被地保扣押起来了,据说连她的珠宝和细软都在放债的犹太人手里,而他们这些人是不讲情面的.贝亚爱格思堡和堡里面贵重的名画.家具.珍奇古玩,也没有剩下一件.像凡杜克(凡杜克(Ｖａｎ　Ｄｙｅｋ,１５９９—１６４１),比利时北部法兰达著名画家.)的气象雄伟的作品,雷诺兹(雷诺兹(Ｓｉｒ　Ｊｏｓｈｕａ　Ｒｅｙｎｏｌｄｓ,１７２３—１７９２),英国肖像画家,皇家艺术学院第一任院长.)的富丽堂皇的画像,还有劳伦斯(劳伦斯(Ｓｉｒ　Ｔｈｏｍａｓ　Ｌａｗｒｅｎｃｅ,１７６９—１８３０),英国肖像画家.)画的肖像,艳丽里面带些俗气,二十年前被人和真正的天才作品一样着重的,都在其内.还有一件艺术作品是卡诺伐(卡诺伐(Ａｎｔｏｎｉｏ　Ｃａｎｏｖａ,１７５７—１８２２),意大利雕刻家.)给贝亚爱格思夫人塑的像,叫做"跳舞的仙女".当年她正在全盛时代,品位.财富.美貌,都占全了.这位贵妇人如今成了个头童齿豁的老婆子,好像是当年的盛服穿烂了剩下的破布块儿.她丈夫的肖像是劳伦斯在同时画的;在那画儿上,他穿了铁色尔乌特义勇骑兵队上校的服色,手里举着短刀,背景就是贝亚爱格思堡.如今他也老得又瘦又干,身上披着大衣,头上戴着粗糙的假头发,一早上偷偷摸摸的在格蕾法学协会附近磨蹭,到中午时分,一个人在俱乐部独吃午饭.现在他不愿意常跟斯丹恩勋爵一起吃饭.当年他们两个一块儿寻欢作乐的时候,贝亚爱格思的地位高得多.谁知道斯丹恩比他有长力,结果抢过了他的头.今天的侯爵比一七八五年的岗脱勋爵地位高出十倍,贝亚爱格思却是穷愁潦倒,只落得一场空.他向斯丹恩借了不少钱,因此和老朋友见面的时候总觉得尴尬.每逢斯丹恩爱说爱笑的当儿,便去讥刺岗脱夫人,问起她父亲怎么不来探望女儿?他总是说:"他已经有四个月不来了.我只要查查支票本,就知道贝亚爱格思几时来看过我.太太们哪,我自己的钱存在亲家翁的银行里,另外一个亲家翁却把我家当作他的银行.你们说妙不妙?"
    蓓基第一次踏进上流社会所遇见的显要人物,写书的也不便一个个细说.有一位彼德窝拉亭的大公爵,带着他的王妃一起在那儿作客.大公爵的腰里束得紧,胸膛却宽得像个武夫,胸口挂着灿烂辉煌的大勋章,他又得过金羊毛勋章(奥地利和西班牙最高的勋章.),因此绕着脖子戴一个红领圈.据说他家里的羊群多得数不清.蓓基偷偷的对斯丹恩勋爵说道:"瞧他的脸.没准他的祖先就是一只羊."说老实话,他大人的一张脸又长又白,表情又一本正经,再加脖子上套着那红圈儿,活像戴上铃铛领队的大公羊.
    另外有一位约翰.保罗.杰弗逊.琼斯先生,名义上在美国大使馆供职,实际还是《纽约雄辩家》报纸的通讯员.他想讨好斯丹恩夫人,吃晚饭的时候特地提起他的好朋友乔治.岗脱,问他喜欢不喜欢吃巴西胡桃?这当儿刚好大家都不在说话,因此把他的话听得很清楚.他说他和乔治在拿波里来往很密,还曾经一起逛过维苏维斯火山.后来琼斯先生写了一篇文章,细细的报道这次宴会的详情,不久便在《雄辩家》报上登出来.他把客人的名字和品位都记下来,在几位要人的名衔底下还加上几句介绍他们的家世和经历.关于女眷们的外表,他形容得淋漓尽致.他又描写听差们的穿戴和身量;他们怎么伺候客人,吃饭的时候上了什么菜,喝了什么酒,食品橱顶上有什么摆设,碗盏大概值多少钱,没有漏了一项.按他的计算,请这么一顿饭,每个客人总要摊到十五到十八块美金的费用.这位琼斯先生后来常常提拔新进,叫他们带了介绍信来见当今的斯丹恩侯爵,说已故的侯爵和他是很好的朋友,一向相熟云云,直到最近才不大写信了.那天晚上他对于一位年轻位卑的贵族名叫莎吴塞唐伯爵的非常不满,因为正当大家按照次序走进饭厅的时候,伯爵走上一步抢在他前面.他写道:"我走到那位聪明可喜的.口角俏皮的.杰出的.时髦的罗登.克劳莱太太前面,打算扶她到饭厅里去,不料一个年轻的贵族突然插在我和克劳莱太太中间,出其不意的把我的海伦(依照希腊的传说,海伦是全世界最美丽的女人,也是希腊和特洛亚开战的原因.)抢去了,而且竟没有向我道歉.因此我只得和那位太太的丈夫克劳莱上校殿后.上校身材壮大,脸色红红的,据说在滑铁卢战役中大大的显了一番身手.他的运气比那些在纽奥里昂作战的红衣军士好得多."(１８１５年英国军队在纽奥里昂给美国人打得大败.)
    上校是初次在上流社会里露脸,不好意思得直脸红,仿佛十六岁的男孩子遇见了姊妹的同学.前面已经说过,忠厚的罗登向来不惯和女人们打交道.他在俱乐部和军营的食堂里碰见的全是男人,倒觉得很自在,时常和他们在一块儿骑马,赌赛,抽烟,打弹子,哪怕是跟最撒野的家伙周旋也不觉得为难.从前他也有过女相好,可是那已经是二十年前的事了.我们在戏里看见过(指英国作家哥尔斯密(Ｏｌｉｖｅｒ　Ｇｏｌｄｓｍｉｔｈ,１７２８—７４)的喜剧《屈身求爱》(Ｓｈｅ　Ｓｔｏｏｐｓ　ｏｆ　Ｃｏｎｑｕｅｒ).),玛罗那小伙子见了哈德卡色尔小姐虽然局促不安,以前倒也是在女人队里混惯的,克劳莱上校的相好和玛罗的朋友便是一类的人物.时下的风气谨严得很,大家不敢提起这种女人.其实名利场上千千万万的小伙子天天跟她们在一起追欢作乐,到晚上,各个跳舞厅里到处是她们的踪迹.谁能否认跳舞厅的存在?它们还不是和圣詹姆士皇宫的宫廷集会,还有海德公园里的圆场,一般是人所共知的吗?可是上流社会里的人偏偏假装不知道,可笑他们本身虽然不见得讲什么道德,对于别人可吹毛求疵得厉害.总而言之,克劳莱上校活了四十五岁,除了他自己的模范太太之外统共没见过五六个正经女人.他的嫂子心地忠厚,待人温柔,因此他佩服她,喜欢她.除了吉恩夫人和蓓基之外,别的女人都叫他害怕.他第一次上岗脱大厦吃饭的时候,只开了一次口,批评天气太热,除此之外,一直没有说过话.蓓基本来很想把他撇在家里,可是她是个腼腆怕羞的小可怜儿,又是第一回踏进上流社会,如果没有丈夫在身边保护着,恐怕失了体统.
    她刚一进门,斯丹恩勋爵就上前拉了她的手,非常客气的欢迎她,并且把她介绍给斯丹恩夫人和她两位媳妇.三位夫人正颜厉色的和她打了招呼,斯丹恩夫人还和她拉手,可是那只手又冷又僵,简直和大理石一样.
    蓓基又感激又谦逊的拉着斯丹恩夫人,她行礼的姿态非常优雅,连第一流的跳舞教师也比不过她.她说勋爵是她父亲最早的主顾,给过他不少恩惠,因此她,蓓基,从小就尊敬斯丹恩府上的人.她说这话,当然是表示对斯丹恩夫人低头伏小的意思.原来斯丹恩侯爵曾经向夏泼买过两张画,夏泼的女儿是个热心人儿,始终没有忘记他的好处.
    然后蓓基和贝亚爱格思夫人也见了面.上校太太的态度十分恭敬,那位贵妇人却是冷冰冰的摆足了架子.
    蓓基拿出最妩媚的姿态说道:"十年前我跟您在布鲁塞尔已经见过了.真是荣幸得很,滑铁卢大战的前夜我在里却蒙公爵夫人的跳舞会上还看见您来着.我还记得您跟您的小姐白朗茜坐在马车里面,在旅馆门口等着买马.您的金刚钻首饰没给人抢走吧?"
    一听这话,旁边的人不约而同的彼此使个眼色.原来有名的金刚钻首饰已经落在债主手里,这件事人人都知道,看来只有蓓基没有听见风声.罗登.克劳莱和莎吴塞唐勋爵两人走到一个窗户旁边,罗登把贝亚爱格思夫人怎么想法子买马,怎么对克劳莱太太让步的事情说给莎吴塞唐听,引得他乐不可支,哈哈大笑起来.蓓基心想:"我看我可以不必怕这婆子了."果然不错,贝亚爱格思夫人又气又怕,和她女儿面面相觑,过后只好退到一张桌子旁边,假装全神贯注的看画儿.
    多瑙河畔的贵客一到,大家改说法文.贝亚爱格思夫人和几位年轻女眷发现蓓基的法文说得比她们高明得多,口音也准确,更加添了一重烦恼.在一八一六到一八一七年之间,蓓基在法国遇见过几个随军的匈牙利要人,因此很关切的问起老朋友的近况.这两个外国客人以为她是个有地位的贵妇人.后来斯丹恩侯爵扶着王妃,亲王扶着侯爵夫人一同到饭厅里去,两位贵客分别向主人主妇探问那位能言善道的太太究竟是谁.
    最后,宾主都按照美国外交官方才说的次序排好,一对对走进饭厅去.我原先已经说过,这次宴会读者也能参加,他爱吃什么酒菜,只管按照自己的口味点好了.
    蓓基很明白最激烈的斗争在男女宾客分开之后才真正开始.她落在这么难堪的境界之中,方才体味到斯丹恩勋爵警告她的话实在不错,原来有地位的贵妇人的确难缠.据说对于爱尔兰人仇恨最深的就是爱尔兰本国人;同样的,对于女人最不放松的也就是女人.可怜的蓓基看见那几位尊贵的夫人聚在壁炉旁边,便也跟上去.等她一到,她们转身就走,管自围着一张搁图画本儿的桌子说笑.蓓基跟到桌子那儿,她们又一个个的回到火炉旁边.她要想找孩子说话(她在众人面前总表示非常喜欢孩子),可是乔治.岗脱少爷立刻给他妈妈叫走了.大家对于这个陌生人半点儿不留情,到后来连斯丹恩夫人也觉得不过意,可怜她没人理睬,特地找她说话.
    侯爵夫人苍白的脸儿涨红了,她说:"克劳莱太太,斯丹恩勋爵告诉我说你弹琴弹得好,唱歌也唱得好.不知你肯不肯唱给我听."
    利蓓加衷心觉得感激,说道:"斯丹恩勋爵和您要我做什么,我无不从命."说罢,她坐在钢琴边唱起歌来.
    她唱的是斯丹恩夫人早年最喜欢的莫扎特的圣诗.她的歌声甜美温馨,斯丹恩夫人原来站在钢琴旁边,后来索性坐了下来,直听得眼泪扑簌簌的往下掉.其余的太太存心跟蓓基过不去,不断的谈话,嘤嘤嗡嗡的,声音着实不小.可是斯丹恩夫人什么都听不见.她回忆到小时候的情形,好像是跳过这四十年悲凉的岁月重新回到了修道院的花园里.教堂里的风琴当年就曾经奏过这曲子.弹琴的修女是全修院中跟她最好的一个,这歌儿也是从她那儿学的.从前的日子真幸福啊!她又重新成了个小姑娘,瞬息即逝的好时光又回到她身边勾留了一小时.直到房门吱呀一声开了,她才如梦初醒.斯丹恩勋爵大声笑着,和一群兴高采烈的男人们一起走进来.
    他一看就明白自己不在的时候是怎么样的情势.这一回,他居然感激妻子,特地走过来和她说话,而且用小名儿叫她,使她苍白的脸上起了红晕.他对蓓基说:"我太太说你唱歌唱得像天使."我们知道天使有两种,据说各人有各人迷人的地方.
    不管前半个黄昏多么难堪,蓓基接下来大大的出了一场风头.她施展全身本领唱歌给大家听,那曼妙的歌声把所有的男人都引到她的钢琴旁边.和她做冤家的女人完全给冷落在一边.约翰.保罗.杰弗逊.琼斯先生走到岗脱夫人面前,称赞她那可爱的朋友唱歌唱得出色;他以为这么一说,岗脱夫人一定喜欢.

CHAPTER L
Contains a Vulgar Incident
The Muse, whoever she be, who presides over this Comic History must now descend from the genteel heights in which she has been soaring and have the goodness to drop down upon the lowly roof of John Sedley at Brompton, and describe what events are taking place there. Here, too, in this humble tenement, live care, and distrust, and dismay. Mrs. Clapp in the kitchen is grumbling in secret to her husband about the rent, and urging the good fellow to rebel against his old friend and patron and his present lodger. Mrs. Sedley has ceased to visit her landlady in the lower regions now, and indeed is in a position to patronize Mrs. Clapp no longer. How can one be condescending to a lady to whom one owes a matter of forty pounds, and who is perpetually throwing out hints for the money? The Irish maidservant has not altered in the least in her kind and respectful behaviour; but Mrs. Sedley fancies that she is growing insolent and ungrateful, and, as the guilty thief who fears each bush an officer, sees threatening innuendoes and hints of capture in all the girl's speeches and answers. Miss Clapp, grown quite a young woman now, is declared by the soured old lady to be an unbearable and impudent little minx. Why Amelia can be so fond of her, or have her in her room so much, or walk out with her so constantly, Mrs. Sedley cannot conceive. The bitterness of poverty has poisoned the life of the once cheerful and kindly woman. She is thankless for Amelia's constant and gentle bearing towards her; carps at her for her efforts at kindness or service; rails at her for her silly pride in her child and her neglect of her parents. Georgy's house is not a very lively one since Uncle Jos's annuity has been withdrawn and the little family are almost upon famine diet.
Amelia thinks, and thinks, and racks her brain, to find some means of increasing the small pittance upon which the household is starving. Can she give lessons in anything? paint card-racks? do fine work? She finds that women are working hard, and better than she can, for twopence a day. She buys a couple of begilt Bristol boards at the Fancy Stationer's and paints her very best upon them-- a shepherd with a red waistcoat on one, and a pink face smiling in the midst of a pencil landscape--a shepherdess on the other, crossing a little bridge, with a little dog, nicely shaded. The man of the Fancy Repository and Brompton Emporium of Fine Arts (of whom she bought the screens, vainly hoping that he would repurchase them when ornamented by her hand) can hardly hide the sneer with which he examines these feeble works of art. He looks askance at the lady who waits in the shop, and ties up the cards again in their envelope of whitey-brown paper, and hands them to the poor widow and Miss Clapp, who had never seen such beautiful things in her life, and had been quite confident that the man must give at least two guineas for the screens. They try at other shops in the interior of London, with faint sickening hopes. "Don't want 'em," says one. "Be off," says another fiercely. Three-and-sixpence has been spent in vain-- the screens retire to Miss Clapp's bedroom, who persists in thinking them lovely.
She writes out a little card in her neatest hand, and after long thought and labour of composition, in which the public is informed that "A Lady who has some time at her disposal, wishes to undertake the education of some little girls, whom she would instruct in English, in French, in Geography, in History, and in Music--address A. O., at Mr. Brown's"; and she confides the card to the gentleman of the Fine Art Repository, who consents to allow it to lie upon the counter, where it grows dingy and fly-blown. Amelia passes the door wistfully many a time, in hopes that Mr. Brown will have some news to give her, but he never beckons her in. When she goes to make little purchases, there is no news for her. Poor simple lady, tender and weak--how are you to battle with the struggling violent world?
She grows daily more care-worn and sad, fixing upon her child alarmed eyes, whereof the little boy cannot interpret the expression. She starts up of a night and peeps into his room stealthily, to see that he is sleeping and not stolen away. She sleeps but little now. A constant thought and terror is haunting her. How she weeps and prays in the long silent nights--how she tries to hide from herself the thought which will return to her, that she ought to part with the boy, that she is the only barrier between him and prosperity. She can't, she can't. Not now, at least. Some other day. Oh! it is too hard to think of and to bear.
A thought comes over her which makes her blush and turn from herself--her parents might keep the annuity--the curate would marry her and give a home to her and the boy. But George's picture and dearest memory are there to rebuke her. Shame and love say no to the sacrifice. She shrinks from it as from something unholy, and such thoughts never found a resting-place in that pure and gentle bosom.
The combat, which we describe in a sentence or two, lasted for many weeks in poor Amelia's heart, during which she had no confidante; indeed, she could never have one, as she would not allow to herself the possibility of yielding, though she was giving way daily before the enemy with whom she had to battle. One truth after another was marshalling itself silently against her and keeping its ground. Poverty and misery for all, want and degradation for her parents, injustice to the boy--one by one the outworks of the little citadel were taken, in which the poor soul passionately guarded her only love and treasure.
At the beginning of the struggle, she had written off a letter of tender supplication to her brother at Calcutta, imploring him not to withdraw the support which he had granted to their parents and painting in terms of artless pathos their lonely and hapless condition. She did not know the truth of the matter. The payment of Jos's annuity was still regular, but it was a money-lender in the City who was receiving it: old Sedley had sold it for a sum of money wherewith to prosecute his bootless schemes. Emmy was calculating eagerly the time that would elapse before the letter would arrive and be answered. She had written down the date in her pocket-book of the day when she dispatched it. To her son's guardian, the good Major at Madras, she had not communicated any of her griefs and perplexities. She had not written to him since she wrote to congratulate him on his approaching marriage. She thought with sickening despondency, that that friend--the only one, the one who had felt such a regard for her--was fallen away.
One day, when things had come to a very bad pass--when the creditors were pressing, the mother in hysteric grief, the father in more than usual gloom, the inmates of the family avoiding each other, each secretly oppressed with his private unhappiness and notion of wrong --the father and daughter happened to be left alone together, and Amelia thought to comfort her father by telling him what she had done. She had written to Joseph--an answer must come in three or four months. He was always generous, though careless. He could not refuse, when he knew how straitened were the circumstances of his parents.
Then the poor old gentleman revealed the whole truth to her--that his son was still paying the annuity, which his own imprudence had flung away. He had not dared to tell it sooner. He thought Amelia's ghastly and terrified look, when, with a trembling, miserable voice he made the confession, conveyed reproaches to him for his concealment. "Ah!" said he with quivering lips and turning away, "you despise your old father now!"
"Oh, papal it is not that," Amelia cried out, falling on his neck and kissing him many times. "You are always good and kind. You did it for the best. It is not for the money--it is--my God! my God! have mercy upon me, and give me strength to bear this trial"; and she kissed him again wildly and went away.
Still the father did not know what that explanation meant, and the burst of anguish with which the poor girl left him. It was that she was conquered. The sentence was passed. The child must go from her--to others--to forget her. Her heart and her treasure--her joy, hope, love, worship--her God, almost! She must give him up, and then--and then she would go to George, and they would watch over the child and wait for him until he came to them in Heaven.
She put on her bonnet, scarcely knowing what she did, and went out to walk in the lanes by which George used to come back from school, and where she was in the habit of going on his return to meet the boy. It was May, a half-holiday. The leaves were all coming out, the weather was brilliant; the boy came running to her flushed with health, singing, his bundle of school-books hanging by a thong. There he was. Both her arms were round him. No, it was impossible. They could not be going to part. "What is the matter, Mother?" said he; "you look very pale."
"Nothing, my child," she said and stooped down and kissed him.
That night Amelia made the boy read the story of Samuel to her, and how Hannah, his mother, having weaned him, brought him to Eli the High Priest to minister before the Lord. And he read the song of gratitude which Hannah sang, and which says, who it is who maketh poor and maketh rich, and bringeth low and exalteth--how the poor shall be raised up out of the dust, and how, in his own might, no man shall be strong. Then he read how Samuel's mother made him a little coat and brought it to him from year to year when she came up to offer the yearly sacrifice. And then, in her sweet simple way, George's mother made commentaries to the boy upon this affecting story. How Hannah, though she loved her son so much, yet gave him up because of her vow. And how she must always have thought of him as she sat at home, far away, making the little coat; and Samuel, she was sure, never forgot his mother; and how happy she must have been as the time came (and the years pass away very quick) when she should see her boy and how good and wise he had grown. This little sermon she spoke with a gentle solemn voice, and dry eyes, until she came to the account of their meeting--then the discourse broke off suddenly, the tender heart overflowed, and taking the boy to her breast, she rocked him in her arms and wept silently over him in a sainted agony of tears.
Her mind being made up, the widow began to take such measures as seemed right to her for advancing the end which she proposed. One day, Miss Osborne, in Russell Square (Amelia had not written the name or number of the house for ten years--her youth, her early story came back to her as she wrote the superscription) one day Miss Osborne got a letter from Amelia which made her blush very much and look towards her father, sitting glooming in his place at the other end of the table.
In simple terms, Amelia told her the reasons which had induced her to change her mind respecting her boy. Her father had met with fresh misfortunes which had entirely ruined him. Her own pittance was so small that it would barely enable her to support her parents and would not suffice to give George the advantages which were his due. Great as her sufferings would be at parting with him she would, by God's help, endure them for the boy's sake. She knew that those to whom he was going would do all in their power to make him happy. She described his disposition, such as she fancied it--quick and impatient of control or harshness, easily to be moved by love and kindness. In a postscript, she stipulated that she should have a written agreement, that she should see the child as often as she wished--she could not part with him under any other terms.
"What? Mrs. Pride has come down, has she?" old Osborne said, when with a tremulous eager voice Miss Osborne read him the letter. "Reg'lar starved out, hey? Ha, ha! I knew she would." He tried to keep his dignity and to read his paper as usual--but he could not follow it. He chuckled and swore to himself behind the sheet.
At last he flung it down and, scowling at his daughter, as his wont was, went out of the room into his study adjoining, from whence he presently returned with a key. He flung it to Miss Osborne.
"Get the room over mine--his room that was--ready," he said. "Yes, sir," his daughter replied in a tremble. It was George's room. It had not been opened for more than ten years. Some of his clothes, papers, handkerchiefs, whips and caps, fishing-rods and sporting gear, were still there. An Army list of 1814, with his name written on the cover; a little dictionary he was wont to use in writing; and the Bible his mother had given him, were on the mantelpiece, with a pair of spurs and a dried inkstand covered with the dust of ten years. Ah! since that ink was wet, what days and people had passed away! The writing-book, still on the table, was blotted with his hand.
Miss Osborne was much affected when she first entered this room with the servants under her. She sank quite pale on the little bed. "This is blessed news, m'am--indeed, m'am," the housekeeper said; "and the good old times is returning, m'am. The dear little feller, to be sure, m'am; how happy he will be! But some folks in May Fair, m'am, will owe him a grudge, m'am"; and she clicked back the bolt which held the window-sash and let the air into the chamber.
"You had better send that woman some money," Mr. Osborne said, before he went out. "She shan't want for nothing. Send her a hundred pound."
"And I'll go and see her to-morrow?" Miss Osborne asked.
"That's your look out. She don't come in here, mind. No, by ------, not for all the money in London. But she mustn't want now. So look out, and get things right." With which brief speeches Mr. Osborne took leave of his daughter and went on his accustomed way into the City.
"Here, Papa, is some money," Amelia said that night, kissing the old man, her father, and putting a bill for a hundred pounds into his hands. "And--and, Mamma, don't be harsh with Georgy. He--he is not going to stop with us long." She could say nothing more, and walked away silently to her room. Let us close it upon her prayers and her sorrow. I think we had best speak little about so much love and grief.
Miss Osborne came the next day, according to the promise contained in her note, and saw Amelia. The meeting between them was friendly. A look and a few words from Miss Osborne showed the poor widow that, with regard to this woman at least, there need be no fear lest she should take the first place in her son's affection. She was cold, sensible, not unkind. The mother had not been so well pleased, perhaps, had the rival been better looking, younger, more affectionate, warmer-hearted. Miss Osborne, on the other hand, thought of old times and memories and could not but be touched with the poor mother's pitiful situation. She was conquered, and laying down her arms, as it were, she humbly submitted. That day they arranged together the preliminaries of the treaty of capitulation.
George was kept from school the next day, and saw his aunt. Amelia left them alone together and went to her room. She was trying the separation--as that poor gentle Lady Jane Grey felt the edge of the axe that was to come down and sever her slender life. Days were passed in parleys, visits, preparations. The widow broke the matter to Georgy with great caution; she looked to see him very much affected by the intelligence. He was rather elated than otherwise, and the poor woman turned sadly away. He bragged about the news that day to the boys at school; told them how he was going to live with his grandpapa his father's father, not the one who comes here sometimes; and that he would be very rich, and have a carriage, and a pony, and go to a much finer school, and when he was rich he would buy Leader's pencil-case and pay the tart-woman. The boy was the image of his father, as his fond mother thought.
Indeed I have no heart, on account of our dear Amelia's sake, to go through the story of George's last days at home.
At last the day came, the carriage drove up, the little humble packets containing tokens of love and remembrance were ready and disposed in the hall long since--George was in his new suit, for which the tailor had come previously to measure him. He had sprung up with the sun and put on the new clothes, his mother hearing him from the room close by, in which she had been lying, in speechless grief and watching. Days before she had been making preparations for the end, purchasing little stores for the boy's use, marking his books and linen, talking with him and preparing him for the change-- fondly fancying that he needed preparation.
So that he had change, what cared he? He was longing for it. By a thousand eager declarations as to what he would do, when he went to live with his grandfather, he had shown the poor widow how little the idea of parting had cast him down. "He would come and see his mamma often on the pony," he said. "He would come and fetch her in the carriage; they would drive in the park, and she should have everything she wanted." The poor mother was fain to content herself with these selfish demonstrations of attachment, and tried to convince herself how sincerely her son loved her. He must love her. All children were so: a little anxious for novelty, and--no, not selfish, but self-willed. Her child must have his enjoyments and ambition in the world. She herself, by her own selfishness and imprudent love for him had denied him his just rights and pleasures hitherto.
I know few things more affecting than that timorous debasement and self-humiliation of a woman. How she owns that it is she and not the man who is guilty; how she takes all the faults on her side; how she courts in a manner punishment for the wrongs which she has not committed and persists in shielding the real culprit! It is those who injure women who get the most kindness from them--they are born timid and tyrants and maltreat those who are humblest before them.
So poor Amelia had been getting ready in silent misery for her son's departure, and had passed many and many a long solitary hour in making preparations for the end. George stood by his mother, watching her arrangements without the least concern. Tears had fallen into his boxes; passages had been scored in his favourite books; old toys, relics, treasures had been hoarded away for him, and packed with strange neatness and care--and of all these things the boy took no note. The child goes away smiling as the mother breaks her heart. By heavens it is pitiful, the bootless love of women for children in Vanity Fair.
A few days are past, and the great event of Amelia's life is consummated. No angel has intervened. The child is sacrificed and offered up to fate, and the widow is quite alone.
The boy comes to see her often, to be sure. He rides on a pony with a coachman behind him, to the delight of his old grandfather, Sedley, who walks proudly down the lane by his side. She sees him, but he is not her boy any more. Why, he rides to see the boys at the little school, too, and to show off before them his new wealth and splendour. In two days he has adopted a slightly imperious air and patronizing manner. He was born to command, his mother thinks, as his father was before him.
It is fine weather now. Of evenings on the days when he does not come, she takes a long walk into London--yes, as far as Russell Square, and rests on the stone by the railing of the garden opposite Mr. Osborne's house. It is so pleasant and cool. She can look up and see the drawing-room windows illuminated, and, at about nine o'clock, the chamber in the upper story where Georgy sleeps. She knows--he has told her. She prays there as the light goes out, prays with an humble heart, and walks home shrinking and silent. She is very tired when she comes home. Perhaps she will sleep the better for that long weary walk, and she may dream about Georgy.
One Sunday she happened to be walking in Russell Square, at some distance from Mr. Osborne's house (she could see it from a distance though) when all the bells of Sabbath were ringing, and George and his aunt came out to go to church; a little sweep asked for charity, and the footman, who carried the books, tried to drive him away; but Georgy stopped and gave him money. May God's blessing be on the boy! Emmy ran round the square and, coming up to the sweep, gave him her mite too. All the bells of Sabbath were ringing, and she followed them until she came to the Foundling Church, into which she went. There she sat in a place whence she could see the head of the boy under his father's tombstone. Many hundred fresh children's voices rose up there and sang hymns to the Father Beneficent, and little George's soul thrilled with delight at the burst of glorious psalmody. His mother could not see him for awhile, through the mist that dimmed her eyes.

第 五 十 章    平民老百姓家里的事
    我写这篇滑稽的故事,不知是掌管哪一司文学艺术的女神在监督指挥......反正不管她是谁,现在必须离开高雅尊贵的环境,转到白朗浦顿约翰.赛特笠家里,描写描写穷人小户过日子的情形了.这家子的生活是够清苦的,他们也有他们的烦恼和心事,也免不了互相猜忌.克拉浦太太因为房租不能到手,在厨房里偷偷的对丈夫抱怨,挑唆他去跟房客闹一场,虽说赛特笠是老朋友,老东家,也顾不得许多了.赛特笠太太如今不再下楼去找克拉浦太太说话,而且也不敢在她面前摆架子.她欠了房东四十镑房钱,房东又不时的指东话西,她怎么还能拿大呢?那爱尔兰女佣人还是像以前一样和顺殷勤,可是赛特笠太太觉得她一天比一天没规矩没良心.做贼的人心虚,看见树丛便疑心后面藏着警察;赛特笠太太也是这样,不论那女孩儿怎么说话,怎么回答,她总觉得语中有刺,而且疑心她要抢自己的东西.克拉浦小姐也长成个大姑娘了,尖酸的老太太说她老脸皮,不尊重,看着叫人讨厌,不明白爱米丽亚为什么喜欢她,老是留她在屋里作伴,又常常和她一起出去散步.赛特笠太太从前是个忠厚乐天的好人,可惜过的日子太苦,所以老是没好气.爱米丽亚对于母亲始终如一的孝顺,却得不到好报.每逢她在母亲面前凑趣帮忙,那老的反而使劲吹毛求疵.她骂女儿糊涂,放着父母不管,只知道瞧着儿子臭得意.自从乔斯舅舅不寄钱回来之后,乔杰的家里毫无生气,大家吃的东西只能勉强维持不饿死而已.
    爱米丽亚绞尽脑汁想法子赚钱.目前的一点儿收入只够叫大家挨饿,她想找个私馆教书,又想靠着画名片架子或是做细巧手工贴补家用.她发现别的女人比她耐劳能干,也不过挣两便士一天.她在发卖点缀品的文具商那里买了两架金边白纸板的小照屏,尽心尽力的在上面画了画.一张上是铅笔风景画作背景,前面一个粉红脸儿,穿红背心的牧羊人站着微笑;另外一张上面一个牧羊女正在过桥,后面跟了一条小狗,两张画都是细心上过颜色的.这两架小照屏是白朗浦顿艺术品经销处买来的.她痴心妄想,以为画好以后可以重新卖给原铺子.不料那掌柜的细细把拙劣的图画一看之下,差点儿冷笑出来.他斜过眼去对铺子里一个女店员瞧了一眼,把那两张画系好,仍旧递给可怜的寡妇和克拉浦小姐.克拉浦小姐一辈子没有看见过这么美丽的东西,以为铺子里至少肯出两基尼.她们又到伦敦城里去卖,心里越来越失望.一家铺子里的人说:"不要这种东西."另一家的人恶狠狠的说:"滚出去!"这样,三先令六便士又白丢了.只有克拉浦姑娘仍旧觉得那两幅画儿好看,爱米丽亚把小屏风送给她搁在卧房里做摆设.
    爱米丽亚费了许多心思力气,用最端正的字体写了一张牌子,上面说:"今有女教师擅长英文,法文,史地,音乐,因有余暇,愿招收年幼女学生若干.有意者请通知爱.奥,信件可由白朗先生转交."发卖艺术品的那位先生答应让她把牌子摆在店里;因此她拿去交了给他.牌子一直搁在柜台上,到后来变得又旧又脏.爱米丽亚时常愁思默默的在店门外面徘徊,希望白朗先生有消息给她,可是他再也不招呼她进去,有时她进去买些小东西,也还是得不到回音.可怜她是个忠厚人,在这个竞争剧烈的世界上是没法奋斗下去的.
    她一天比一天憔悴抑郁,时常急煎煎的瞪着孩子,她眼睛里的表情,孩子并不懂.有时她睡到半夜,霍的跳起来,走到他房门口偷偷的张望,看见他好好的睡着,没有被人偷去,才放了心.现在她睡得很少.可怕的预兆日夜缠绕着她.在漫漫的寂寞的夜里,她哭着祈祷,竭力躲避那不断袭来的心思......她觉得自己挡着孩子的前途,没有她,孩子就会有好日子,因此她应该让他走.可是叫她怎么硬得起这心肠啊?至少眼前是割舍不下的,只好等几时再说吧.她受不了这个苦痛,连想着都难受.
    她忽然想到一个办法,不由得脸上发红,自己对自己不好意思起来.她想不如把年金给了父母,反正副牧师肯娶她,她母子俩也有了归宿.可是乔治的照片,温馨的回忆,又似乎在责备她.她对丈夫的爱情和羞恶之心不准她这样牺牲自己.她想到这件事,就感到畏缩,好像怕沾染了不干净的东西,因为像她这样纯洁温柔的人根本不允许自己有再嫁的心思.
    我们这里三言两语描写完毕的斗争,梗在可怜的爱米丽亚的心里竟有好几个星期.在这段时期之内,她没有一个知心的人可以说说话.事实上她也不能跟人商量,因为她不愿意给自己一个软化的机会.虽如此说,她天天在对敌人让步.难堪的事实接踵而来,站在她面前,对她是一种无言的威胁.全家穷愁交迫;父母不但衣食不周全,而且处处受到委屈;再说这样下去对于孩子也太不公平.可怜她虽然把自己唯一的宝贝藏在坚固的城堡之中,外垒却一个个的被占领了.
    在困难开始的时候,她曾经写过一封信给加尔各答的哥哥,婉转恳求他继续给父母寄钱回来.她描写家里落薄无援的情形,说的话没半点儿矫揉做作,叫人看着觉得凄惨.其实个中的真情她并不知道.乔斯的年金倒是不错日子寄来的,不过收钱的却是市中心一个放债的家伙.原来赛特笠老头儿为着实行他那些无用的计划,把年金卖掉了.爱米急煎煎的计算着她的信几时可以到达印度,哥哥的回音几时可以到达家里.在寄信的那一天,她特地在记事本上注了一笔.对于儿子的保护人,那驻扎在玛德拉斯的好心的少佐,她的困难苦恼一句也没有提.自从她写信预祝他新婚快乐之后,就没有和他通过音信.她想到他是唯一看重自己的好朋友,现在也断绝了,心里说不出的灰心懊恼.
    有一天,家里到了不堪的局面.债主们紧紧勒逼,母亲呼天抢地的号哭,父亲比平时更加消沉.家里的人你躲着我我避开你,各人心上压着自己的烦恼和委屈.爱米丽亚凑巧和父亲在一起,就想法安慰他.她告诉父亲说她已经写信给乔斯,再过三四个月一定会有回音.乔斯虽然糊里糊涂,为人是慷慨的.如果他知道父母家计艰难,决不能拒绝帮忙.
    可怜的老头儿这时才对她吐出了全盘的实情,他说乔斯倒仍旧按时寄钱,只怪他自己糊涂,生生的把年金扔掉了;他以前没肯说,为的是实在鼓不起勇气.他低声下气的认了错,声音直发抖,又瞧着爱米丽亚惊慌失措,脸色惨白的样子,以为女儿怪他早不说实话,难过得嘴唇哆嗦起来,背过脸去说道:"唉!你现在瞧不起你爸爸了."
    爱米丽亚嚷起来说:"啊,爸爸!我并没有这个意思,"说着,她勾住老头儿的脖子连连吻他,"你待人总是那么忠厚好心,你卖了年金可不也是为我们好吗?我不是舍不得钱......我是为......唉,天哪,天哪!求你对我慈悲,给我力量忍受苦难!"她神色激动的吻着他,转身走开了.
    她父亲还是不懂她的意思,也不知道可怜的女儿临走为什么哭得那么伤心.爱米丽亚明白自己不得不向命运低头.这就是她的判决书:孩子非离开她不可,他将来跟着别人,慢慢的就把她扔在脑勺子后头.孩子是她的心肝,她的宝贝,她的快乐和希望.她爱他,崇拜他,差一些就把他当神道似的供奉起来.而现在她竟不得不跟他分手.以后呢?以后她就到丈夫那儿去;他们两夫妻守护着孩子,在天堂里等着与他重逢.
    她神不守舍的戴上帽子,向乔杰从学校回家的必经之路那边走去.平常她老是打这条路去接他回来的.那天正是五月一日,只上半天课.树上的叶子渐渐长齐了,天气温和明媚.孩子跳跳蹦蹦的跑过来,脸色红红的,口里唱着歌,书本子用皮带捆成一包挂在身边.他来了,做妈妈的马上搂着他.她想,这不可能!他们娘儿两个怎么能分开呢?乔治说:"怎么了,妈妈?你脸上白得很."
    "没什么,孩子,"说罢,她俯下身子吻着他.
    当晚,爱米丽亚叫儿子把《圣经》上撒姆尔的故事读给她听.故事说撒姆尔的母亲哈娜给他断奶之后,就带他上祭师埃利那儿,把他奉献给上帝.乔杰把哈娜唱的感谢天恩的诗朗读出来.诗里说一个人的贫富穷通,全凭上帝的意志;不依靠上帝的人,力量是有限的.然后他读到撒姆尔的母亲怎么替他缝小外套.她每年向上帝祭献的时候,就把外套带给儿子.读完之后,乔治的母亲给他讲解这篇动人的故事包含的深意,那口气又温柔又恳切.她说哈娜虽然爱她的儿子,可是因为有约在先,所以只能让他走.当她在家做外套的时候,她准在想念远方的儿子,撒姆尔也一定没有忘记自己的母亲.她又说哈娜后来去探望儿子,看见他又聪明,又善良,心里多么高兴,而且光阴过得很快,一年一年并不显得怎么长.她讲这篇道理的时候,声音轻柔严肃,也不愁眉泪眼.然后她讲到娘儿俩怎么会面,忽然泪如泉涌,说不下去了.她紧紧的搂着孩子百般摩弄,靠在他身上默默的流了许多神圣的心酸的眼泪.
    这寡妇主意已定,马上着手把她认为必要的手续办理起来.她写了一封信到勒塞尔广场,那家子的地址姓名她已经有十年不写了,开信封的时候不由自主的想起自己年轻时的遭遇.那天奥斯本小姐收到爱米丽亚的来信,一看之后,兴奋得满面通红,转眼向父亲瞧着.那时奥斯本正坐在桌子另一头自己的位子上,搭丧着脸儿发愣.
    爱米丽亚的来信措辞很直率,解释她为什么对于处置儿子的事情上改变了原意.她的父亲又被了一场横祸,已经到了倾家荡产的地步.她自己的收入微薄,只能勉强奉养父母,不能使乔治得到他应该享受的权利.她虽然舍不得和儿子分离,为了他的缘故,愿意忍受这次苦难,只求上帝给她力量!她相信领养乔治的人一定会尽力使他快乐.她按照自己所见描写乔治的性格,说他脾气急躁,是个吃顺不吃强的孩子,只要对他体贴一些,温和一些,不难叫他听话.在信后她附带要求事先立一张约,说定她随时能和儿子见面,如果不依她这项条件,她是无论如何不放手的.
    奥斯本小姐读信的时候,兴奋得声音直打抖.奥斯本老头儿听了说道:"什么?这位骄傲的太太也低头了吗?哦,他们快饿死了.哈,哈!我老早就知道会有这么一天."他假装镇静,想要照常看报,可是怎么也看不进去,只把报纸挡着脸,一会儿赌神罚咒,一会儿赫赫的笑.
    最后他把报纸一扔,照平常的样子怒目横眉的对女儿瞪了一眼,走到隔壁书房里去.不多一会,他又出来,手里拿了个钥匙扔给奥斯本小姐.
    他说:"把我书房上面那间屋子......就是他的屋子......给收拾收拾干净."他女儿哆嗦着答道:"好的."那间屋子本来是乔治的,这十年来一直关着.他的衣服.信件.手帕.帽子.钓鱼竿,还有各色运动装仍旧在里面.一张一八一四年的军人名单,信封外面还写着他的名字,一本他写东西时常用的小字典,还有他母亲给他的《圣经》,还在壁炉架上.旁边还搁了一副马刺和一个墨水壶,里面的墨水干了,外面积了十年来的尘土.从墨水还没有干掉的时候到今天,经过的事情,去世的人,该有多少啊!他的记事本依旧在桌子上,里面斑斑点点的还有他的手迹.
    奥斯本小姐带着佣人走进房间的时候,心里的感触很深.她脸色苍白,一屁股坐在小床上.管家娘子说道:"这真是好消息,小姐.是吧,小姐?像从前一样的好日子又来了,小姐.那小宝贝儿将来多有福气,小姐!可是有些住在梅飞厄的人,小姐,他们可不会喜欢他,小姐."说着,她托的拔了窗上的插销,把新鲜空气放进来.
    奥斯本先生临走对女儿说:"给那女的送点儿钱去.不能让她缺一件少一件的.给她一百镑钱."
    奥斯本小姐问道:"我明天去瞧瞧她吧?"
    "那随你的便.可是你听着,别让她到咱们家里来.哼!哪怕你把伦敦城里所有的钱都给了我,我也不能让她来.当前的问题是得叫她衣食周全.你留点心儿,瞧着办得了."奥斯本先生说完这几句话,按老路到市中心去了.
    当晚爱米丽亚把一张一百镑的票子塞在父亲手里,吻着他说:"爸爸,这些钱拿去用吧.呃......妈妈,别跟乔杰过不去,他......他反正不会在这里住多久的."她说不出别的话,一言不发回到自己屋里.我们还是让她独自一人去伤心,去祷告吧,关于这样深厚的母爱,这样强烈的痛苦,我有什么可说的呢?
    奥斯本小姐在前一日写的短信里说过要来拜访爱米丽亚,第二天果然来了.她们两人倒很相得.可怜的寡妇对奥斯本小姐端详了一下,听她说了几句话,知道她不会在自己儿子的心里占第一位.奥斯本小姐心地明白,不容易动情,可也不刻薄.倘或对方年轻漂亮,待人和气热心,做母亲的大概就没有那么放心.奥斯本小姐回想到从前的情景,看着爱米丽亚落到这步田地,心里不由得惨然.爱米丽亚已经屈服,低首下心的放下武器,向敌人投降了.当天她们一起把订约以前的手续先办好.
    第二天,乔治没有去上学,留在家里和姑妈见面.爱米丽亚让他们两个在一起说话,自己回到卧房里去.她正在预先咀嚼和儿子分别的滋味,就像那可怜的温柔的琴.格蕾夫人(琴.格蕾.特德莱夫人(Ｌａｄｙ　Ｊａｎｅ　Ｇｒｅｙ　Ｄｕｄｌｅｙ,１５３７—５４),英王亨利第七的重孙女儿,极富才华,曾经做了九天女王,被处死时只有十七岁.),在临刑之前看见那把将要落到她脖子上取她性命的大斧,先摸摸锋口,看有什么感觉.此后,连着好多天开谈判,家里时常有人来,还得做种种准备.爱米丽亚小心翼翼的把消息告诉乔杰,留心看他有什么表示.哪知他听了只觉得得意,可怜的母亲十分失望,闷闷的背过脸去.那天乔杰在学校里大吹其牛,把消息告诉同学,说他就要跟着爷爷去住了......是他爸爸的父亲,不是有时来接他回家的外公.他说他将来有钱的了不得,有马车,小马,还要换一个有名儿的学校.到他有了钱,他就去买里德铅笔匣,还打算跟卖甜饼的女人清清账.痴心的姑妈估计得不错,这孩子跟他爸爸真是一模一样的.
    我心里真为我们亲爱的爱米丽亚难过,实在没有心肠把乔治最后几天在家的情形絮絮叨叨的说给大家听.
    分别的一天终究到了.马车也来了.好几个旧衣包儿早已搁在过道里等着,做母亲的在上面花了不少心血,而且在包里塞了不少纪念品.乔杰穿了新衣,这套衣服还是早几天爷爷特地差了裁缝来给他定做的.他大清早从床上一骨碌跳下来,忙着穿好新衣服.他母亲正在隔壁房里躺着伤心.她睡不着觉,也说不出话,静听着他房里的动静.好几天来她就在作分别的准备,为孩子买些日用东西,在他的书本和衬衣上做记号,常常和他说说话,让他对于未来的改变有个心理上的准备.做妈妈的一片痴心,以为他需要心理上的准备.
    乔治是只想换换空气,什么也不在乎,巴不得赶快离家才好.他幻想着将来住在爷爷家里以后要干些什么事,一遍遍说个不完,由此可见他对母亲并没有什么舍不得.他说他将来可以常常骑着小马来探望妈妈,还要坐着马车接她到公园去兜风;她爱什么就能有什么.可怜的妈妈听见儿子对她这么孝顺(虽然表现的方式自私些),也就觉得满意.她努力哄着自己,说儿子真心诚意的爱她.她想,他心上怎么会没有娘呢?天下的孩子全是一样,喜欢新鲜事情,而且......不,也不能说他们自私,不过是任性一点.她的孩子当然应该过好日子,将来还能有一番作为,只怪她自己太自私,太不聪明,耽误了儿子享福和上进的机会.
    只有女人肯自己贬抑,自己认错,那种精神真是令人感动.她们把一切错处都揽在自己身上,却不怪男人不好,竟好像喜欢代人受过,打定主意保护那真正的罪人.女人天生懦弱,也天生不讲道理.你越是虐待她们,她们越待你好;虚心下气的男人,反倒受她们欺负.
    可怜的爱米丽亚含悲忍泪的准备打发儿子出门,她费了许多许多时间,独自把未了的事情办完.乔治站在母亲旁边,瞧着她一样样的安排,半点儿不动心.她一面给他收拾箱子,一面掉眼泪.她在他最心爱的书本子里把要紧的段落摘出来.她为他把玩具.纪念品.宝贵的零星小东西都收拾的整整齐齐.可是孩子什么都没有注意.母亲伤心得肝肠摧裂,孩子却笑眯眯的走了.好可怜啊,在名利场中,母亲的爱换得了什么好处呢?
    几天过去,爱米丽亚一生中的大事就算告一段落.上帝并没有叫天使下凡来帮她的忙.孩子给做了祭献,供奉给命运之神了.那寡妇只剩下孤身一人.
    孩子当然常常来看她.他骑着小马,后面跟了马夫.老外公赛特笠先生得意极了,兴兴头头的陪着他在街上走.儿子虽然还能跟她见面,可是已经不是她的了.譬如说,他也骑着马去探望学校里的同学,借此向大家卖弄自己有钱有势.虽然只隔了两天,他的态度已经有些盛气凌人,仿佛比众不同似的.他的母亲想道,他和他爸爸一样,天生应该是在万人之上的.
    现在天气很好.在乔治不来看她的日子,到傍晚她不顾路远,散步到城里,一直走到勒塞尔广场.住在奥斯本先生对面的人家有个花园,她就坐在花园栅栏旁边的石头上.那儿又凉快又舒服,她一抬头就看得见客厅里的灯光.到九点钟左右,楼上孩子的卧房里也点上灯了.她知道哪间是他的卧房,因为他曾经告诉过她.灭灯以后,她还坐在那里祈祷......虚心下气的祈祷;然后乞乞缩缩,不声不响的走回家去.到家的时候她已经很累了.也许因为走得太累,她反而睡得好些,在梦里还能够和乔杰相见.
    有一个星期日,她恰巧在勒塞尔广场散步.那儿离着奥斯本先生的房子有一大截路,远远的还看得见.各处教堂的钟声响了,乔治和他姑妈出来做礼拜.一个扫烟囱的小孩上来求布施,跟在他们背后拿圣书的听差要想赶他走,可是乔杰站住了,掏出钱来给他.求上帝保佑他吧!爱米急急的绕着广场跑过去,追上那扫烟囱的孩子,把自己的钱也施舍给他.到处是礼拜堂里的钟声,她眼在他们后面,一直走到孤儿教堂里面.她挑了一个位子,从那儿可以看见孩子的头,恰好在他父亲的墓碑底下.歌咏团里有几百个孩子,他们那清脆的声音唱起圣诗来赞美慈悲的上帝.悠扬而雄壮的音乐听得小乔治心旷神怡.那时候他的母亲泪眼模糊,看不清他了.

CHAPTER LI
In Which a Charade Is Acted Which May or May Not Puzzle the Reader
After Becky's appearance at my Lord Steyne's private and select parties, the claims of that estimable woman as regards fashion were settled, and some of the very greatest and tallest doors in the metropolis were speedily opened to her--doors so great and tall that the beloved reader and writer hereof may hope in vain to enter at them. Dear brethren, let us tremble before those august portals. I fancy them guarded by grooms of the chamber with flaming silver forks with which they prong all those who have not the right of the entree. They say the honest newspaper-fellow who sits in the hall and takes down the names of the great ones who are admitted to the feasts dies after a little time. He can't survive the glare of fashion long. It scorches him up, as the presence of Jupiter in full dress wasted that poor imprudent Semele--a giddy moth of a creature who ruined herself by venturing out of her natural atmosphere. Her myth ought to be taken to heart amongst the Tyburnians, the Belgravians--her story, and perhaps Becky's too. Ah, ladies!--ask the Reverend Mr. Thurifer if Belgravia is not a sounding brass and Tyburnia a tinkling cymbal. These are vanities. Even these will pass away. And some day or other (but it will be after our time, thank goodness) Hyde Park Gardens will be no better known than the celebrated horticultural outskirts of Babylon, and Belgrave Square will be as desolate as Baker Street, or Tadmor in the wilderness.
Ladies, are you aware that the great Pitt lived in Baker Street? What would not your grandmothers have given to be asked to Lady Hester's parties in that now decayed mansion? I have dined in it-- moi qui vous parle, I peopled the chamber with ghosts of the mighty dead. As we sat soberly drinking claret there with men of to-day, the spirits of the departed came in and took their places round the darksome board. The pilot who weathered the storm tossed off great bumpers of spiritual port; the shade of Dundas did not leave the ghost of a heeltap. Addington sat bowing and smirking in a ghastly manner, and would not be behindhand when the noiseless bottle went round; Scott, from under bushy eyebrows, winked at the apparition of a beeswing; Wilberforce's eyes went up to the ceiling, so that he did not seem to know how his glass went up full to his mouth and came down empty; up to the ceiling which was above us only yesterday, and which the great of the past days have all looked at. They let the house as a furnished lodging now. Yes, Lady Hester once lived in Baker Street, and lies asleep in the wilderness. Eothen saw her there--not in Baker Street, but in the other solitude.
It is all vanity to be sure, but who will not own to liking a little of it? I should like to know what well-constituted mind, merely because it is transitory, dislikes roast beef? That is a vanity, but may every man who reads this have a wholesome portion of it through life, I beg: aye, though my readers were five hundred thousand. Sit down, gentlemen, and fall to, with a good hearty appetite; the fat, the lean, the gravy, the horse-radish as you like it--don't spare it. Another glass of wine, Jones, my boy--a little bit of the Sunday side. Yes, let us eat our fill of the vain thing and be thankful therefor. And let us make the best of Becky's aristocratic pleasures likewise--for these too, like all other mortal delights, were but transitory.
The upshot of her visit to Lord Steyne was that His Highness the Prince of Peterwaradin took occasion to renew his acquaintance with Colonel Crawley, when they met on the next day at the Club, and to compliment Mrs. Crawley in the Ring of Hyde Park with a profound salute of the hat. She and her husband were invited immediately to one of the Prince's small parties at Levant House, then occupied by His Highness during the temporary absence from England of its noble proprietor. She sang after dinner to a very little comite. The Marquis of Steyne was present, paternally superintending the progress of his pupil.
At Levant House Becky met one of the finest gentlemen and greatest ministers that Europe has produced--the Duc de la Jabotiere, then Ambassador from the Most Christian King, and subsequently Minister to that monarch. I declare I swell with pride as these august names are transcribed by my pen, and I think in what brilliant company my dear Becky is moving. She became a constant guest at the French Embassy, where no party was considered to be complete without the presence of the charming Madame Ravdonn Cravley. Messieurs de Truffigny (of the Perigord family) and Champignac, both attaches of the Embassy, were straightway smitten by the charms of the fair Colonel's wife, and both declared, according to the wont of their nation (for who ever yet met a Frenchman, come out of England, that has not left half a dozen families miserable, and brought away as many hearts in his pocket-book?), both, I say, declared that they were au mieux with the charming Madame Ravdonn.
But I doubt the correctness of the assertion. Champignac was very fond of ecarte, and made many parties with the Colonel of evenings, while Becky was singing to Lord Steyne in the other room; and as for Truffigny, it is a well-known fact that he dared not go to the Travellers', where he owed money to the waiters, and if he had not had the Embassy as a dining-place, the worthy young gentleman must have starved. I doubt, I say, that Becky would have selected either of these young men as a person on whom she would bestow her special regard. They ran of her messages, purchased her gloves and flowers, went in debt for opera-boxes for her, and made themselves amiable in a thousand ways. And they talked English with adorable simplicity, and to the constant amusement of Becky and my Lord Steyne, she would mimic one or other to his face, and compliment him on his advance in the English language with a gravity which never failed to tickle the Marquis, her sardonic old patron. Truffigny gave Briggs a shawl by way of winning over Becky's confidante, and asked her to take charge of a letter which the simple spinster handed over in public to the person to whom it was addressed, and the composition of which amused everybody who read it greatly. Lord Steyne read it, everybody but honest Rawdon, to whom it was not necessary to tell everything that passed in the little house in May Fair.
Here, before long, Becky received not only "the best" foreigners (as the phrase is in our noble and admirable society slang), but some of the best English people too. I don't mean the most virtuous, or indeed the least virtuous, or the cleverest, or the stupidest, or the richest, or the best born, but "the best,"--in a word, people about whom there is no question--such as the great Lady Fitz-Willis, that Patron Saint of Almack's, the great Lady Slowbore, the great Lady Grizzel Macbeth (she was Lady G. Glowry, daughter of Lord Grey of Glowry), and the like. When the Countess of Fitz-Willis (her Ladyship is of the Kingstreet family, see Debrett and Burke) takes up a person, he or she is safe. There is no question about them any more. Not that my Lady Fitz-Willis is any better than anybody else, being, on the contrary, a faded person, fifty-seven years of age, and neither handsome, nor wealthy, nor entertaining; but it is agreed on all sides that she is of the "best people." Those who go to her are of the best: and from an old grudge probably to Lady Steyne (for whose coronet her ladyship, then the youthful Georgina Frederica, daughter of the Prince of Wales's favourite, the Earl of Portansherry, had once tried), this great and famous leader of the fashion chose to acknowledge Mrs. Rawdon Crawley; made her a most marked curtsey at the assembly over which she presided; and not only encouraged her son, St. Kitts (his lordship got his place through Lord Steyne's interest), to frequent Mrs. Crawley's house, but asked her to her own mansion and spoke to her twice in the most public and condescending manner during dinner. The important fact was known all over London that night. People who had been crying fie about Mrs. Crawley were silent. Wenham, the wit and lawyer, Lord Steyne's right-hand man, went about everywhere praising her: some who had hesitated, came forward at once and welcomed her; little Tom Toady, who had warned Southdown about visiting such an abandoned woman, now besought to be introduced to her. In a word, she was admitted to be among the "best" people. Ah, my beloved readers and brethren, do not envy poor Becky prematurely--glory like this is said to be fugitive. It is currently reported that even in the very inmost circles, they are no happier than the poor wanderers outside the zone; and Becky, who penetrated into the very centre of fashion and saw the great George IV face to face, has owned since that there too was Vanity.
We must be brief in descanting upon this part of her career. As I cannot describe the mysteries of freemasonry, although I have a shrewd idea that it is a humbug, so an uninitiated man cannot take upon himself to portray the great world accurately, and had best keep his opinions to himself, whatever they are.
Becky has often spoken in subsequent years of this season of her life, when she moved among the very greatest circles of the London fashion. Her success excited, elated, and then bored her. At first no occupation was more pleasant than to invent and procure (the latter a work of no small trouble and ingenuity, by the way, in a person of Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's very narrow means)--to procure, we say, the prettiest new dresses and ornaments; to drive to fine dinner parties, where she was welcomed by great people; and from the fine dinner parties to fine assemblies, whither the same people came with whom she had been dining, whom she had met the night before, and would see on the morrow--the young men faultlessly appointed, handsomely cravatted, with the neatest glossy boots and white gloves--the elders portly, brass-buttoned, noble-looking, polite, and prosy--the young ladies blonde, timid, and in pink--the mothers grand, beautiful, sumptuous, solemn, and in diamonds. They talked in English, not in bad French, as they do in the novels. They talked about each others' houses, and characters, and families--just as the Joneses do about the Smiths. Becky's former acquaintances hated and envied her; the poor woman herself was yawning in spirit. "I wish I were out of it," she said to herself. "I would rather be a parson's wife and teach a Sunday school than this; or a sergeant's lady and ride in the regimental waggon; or, oh, how much gayer it would be to wear spangles and trousers and dance before a booth at a fair."
"You would do it very well," said Lord Steyne, laughing. She used to tell the great man her ennuis and perplexities in her artless way-- they amused him.
"Rawdon would make a very good Ecuyer--Master of the Ceremonies-- what do you call him--the man in the large boots and the uniform, who goes round the ring cracking the whip? He is large, heavy, and of a military figure. I recollect," Becky continued pensively, "my father took me to see a show at Brookgreen Fair when I was a child, and when we came home, I made myself a pair of stilts and danced in the studio to the wonder of all the pupils."
"I should have liked to see it," said Lord Steyne.
"I should like to do it now," Becky continued. "How Lady Blinkey would open her eyes, and Lady Grizzel Macbeth would stare! Hush! silence! there is Pasta beginning to sing." Becky always made a point of being conspicuously polite to the professional ladies and gentlemen who attended at these aristocratic parties--of following them into the corners where they sat in silence, and shaking hands with them, and smiling in the view of all persons. She was an artist herself, as she said very truly; there was a frankness and humility in the manner in which she acknowledged her origin, which provoked, or disarmed, or amused lookers-on, as the case might be. "How cool that woman is," said one; "what airs of independence she assumes, where she ought to sit still and be thankful if anybody speaks to her!" "What an honest and good-natured soul she is!" said another. "What an artful little minx" said a third. They were all right very likely, but Becky went her own way, and so fascinated the professional personages that they would leave off their sore throats in order to sing at her parties and give her lessons for nothing.
Yes, she gave parties in the little house in Curzon Street. Many scores of carriages, with blazing lamps, blocked up the street, to the disgust of No. 100, who could not rest for the thunder of the knocking, and of 102, who could not sleep for envy. The gigantic footmen who accompanied the vehicles were too big to be contained in Becky's little hall, and were billeted off in the neighbouring public-houses, whence, when they were wanted, call-boys summoned them from their beer. Scores of the great dandies of London squeezed and trod on each other on the little stairs, laughing to find themselves there; and many spotless and severe ladies of ton were seated in the little drawing-room, listening to the professional singers, who were singing according to their wont, and as if they wished to blow the windows down. And the day after, there appeared among the fashionable reunions in the Morning Post a paragraph to the following effect:
"Yesterday, Colonel and Mrs. Crawley entertained a select party at dinner at their house in May Fair. Their Excellencies the Prince and Princess of Peterwaradin, H. E. Papoosh Pasha, the Turkish Ambassador (attended by Kibob Bey, dragoman of the mission), the Marquess of Steyne, Earl of Southdown, Sir Pitt and Lady Jane Crawley, Mr. Wagg, &c. After dinner Mrs. Crawley had an assembly which was attended by the Duchess (Dowager) of Stilton, Duc de la Gruyere, Marchioness of Cheshire, Marchese Alessandro Strachino, Comte de Brie, Baron Schapzuger, Chevalier Tosti, Countess of Slingstone, and Lady F. Macadam, Major-General and Lady G. Macbeth, and (2) Miss Macbeths; Viscount Paddington, Sir Horace Fogey, Hon. Sands Bedwin, Bobachy Bahawder," and an &c., which the reader may fill at his pleasure through a dozen close lines of small type.
And in her commerce with the great our dear friend showed the same frankness which distinguished her transactions with the lowly in station. On one occasion, when out at a very fine house, Rebecca was (perhaps rather ostentatiously) holding a conversation in the French language with a celebrated tenor singer of that nation, while the Lady Grizzel Macbeth looked over her shoulder scowling at the pair.
"How very well you speak French," Lady Grizzel said, who herself spoke the tongue in an Edinburgh accent most remarkable to hear.
"I ought to know it," Becky modestly said, casting down her eyes. "I taught it in a school, and my mother was a Frenchwoman."
Lady Grizzel was won by her humility and was mollified towards the little woman. She deplored the fatal levelling tendencies of the age, which admitted persons of all classes into the society of their superiors, but her ladyship owned that this one at least was well behaved and never forgot her place in life. She was a very good woman: good to the poor; stupid, blameless, unsuspicious. It is not her ladyship's fault that she fancies herself better than you and me. The skirts of her ancestors' garments have been kissed for centuries; it is a thousand years, they say, since the tartans of the head of the family were embraced by the defunct Duncan's lords and councillors, when the great ancestor of the House became King of Scotland.
Lady Steyne, after the music scene, succumbed before Becky, and perhaps was not disinclined to her. The younger ladies of the house of Gaunt were also compelled into submission. Once or twice they set people at her, but they failed. The brilliant Lady Stunnington tried a passage of arms with her, but was routed with great slaughter by the intrepid little Becky. When attacked sometimes, Becky had a knack of adopting a demure ingenue air, under which she was most dangerous. She said the wickedest things with the most simple unaffected air when in this mood, and would take care artlessly to apologize for her blunders, so that all the world should know that she had made them.
Mr. Wagg, the celebrated wit, and a led captain and trencher-man of my Lord Steyne, was caused by the ladies to charge her; and the worthy fellow, leering at his patronesses and giving them a wink, as much as to say, "Now look out for sport," one evening began an assault upon Becky, who was unsuspiciously eating her dinner. The little woman, attacked on a sudden, but never without arms, lighted up in an instant, parried and riposted with a home-thrust, which made Wagg's face tingle with shame; then she returned to her soup with the most perfect calm and a quiet smile on her face. Wagg's great patron, who gave him dinners and lent him a little money sometimes, and whose election, newspaper, and other jobs Wagg did, gave the luckless fellow such a savage glance with the eyes as almost made him sink under the table and burst into tears. He looked piteously at my lord, who never spoke to him during dinner, and at the ladies, who disowned him. At last Becky herself took compassion upon him and tried to engage him in talk. He was not asked to dinner again for six weeks; and Fiche, my lord's confidential man, to whom Wagg naturally paid a good deal of court, was instructed to tell him that if he ever dared to say a rude thing to Mrs. Crawley again, or make her the butt of his stupid jokes, Milor would put every one of his notes of hand into his lawyer's hands and sell him up without mercy. Wagg wept before Fiche and implored his dear friend to intercede for him. He wrote a poem in favour of Mrs. R. C., which appeared in the very next number of the Harum-scarum Magazine, which he conducted. He implored her good- will at parties where he met her. He cringed and coaxed Rawdon at the club. He was allowed to come back to Gaunt House after a while. Becky was always good to him, always amused, never angry.
His lordship's vizier and chief confidential servant (with a seat in parliament and at the dinner table), Mr. Wenham, was much more prudent in his behaviour and opinions than Mr. Wagg. However much he might be disposed to hate all parvenus (Mr. Wenham himself was a staunch old True Blue Tory, and his father a small coal-merchant in the north of England), this aide-de-camp of the Marquis never showed any sort of hostility to the new favourite, but pursued her with stealthy kindnesses and a sly and deferential politeness which somehow made Becky more uneasy than other people's overt hostilities.
How the Crawleys got the money which was spent upon the entertainments with which they treated the polite world was a mystery which gave rise to some conversation at the time, and probably added zest to these little festivities. Some persons averred that Sir Pitt Crawley gave his brother a handsome allowance; if he did, Becky's power over the Baronet must have been extraordinary indeed, and his character greatly changed in his advanced age. Other parties hinted that it was Becky's habit to levy contributions on all her husband's friends: going to this one in tears with an account that there was an execution in the house; falling on her knees to that one and declaring that the whole family must go to gaol or commit suicide unless such and such a bill could be paid. Lord Southdown, it was said, had been induced to give many hundreds through these pathetic representations. Young Feltham, of the --th Dragoons (and son of the firm of Tiler and Feltham, hatters and army accoutrement makers), and whom the Crawleys introduced into fashionable life, was also cited as one of Becky's victims in the pecuniary way. People declared that she got money from various simply disposed persons, under pretence of getting them confidential appointments under Government. Who knows what stories were or were not told of our dear and innocent friend? Certain it is that if she had had all the money which she was said to have begged or borrowed or stolen, she might have capitalized and been honest for life, whereas,--but this is advancing matters.
The truth is, that by economy and good management--by a sparing use of ready money and by paying scarcely anybody--people can manage, for a time at least, to make a great show with very little means: and it is our belief that Becky's much-talked-of parties, which were not, after all was said, very numerous, cost this lady very little more than the wax candles which lighted the walls. Stillbrook and Queen's Crawley supplied her with game and fruit in abundance. Lord Steyne's cellars were at her disposal, and that excellent nobleman's famous cooks presided over her little kitchen, or sent by my lord's order the rarest delicacies from their own. I protest it is quite shameful in the world to abuse a simple creature, as people of her time abuse Becky, and I warn the public against believing one-tenth of the stories against her. If every person is to be banished from society who runs into debt and cannot pay--if we are to be peering into everybody's private life, speculating upon their income, and cutting them if we don't approve of their expenditure--why, what a howling wilderness and intolerable dwelling Vanity Fair would be! Every man's hand would be against his neighbour in this case, my dear sir, and the benefits of civilization would be done away with. We should be quarrelling, abusing, avoiding one another. Our houses would become caverns, and we should go in rags because we cared for nobody. Rents would go down. Parties wouldn't be given any more. All the tradesmen of the town would be bankrupt. Wine, wax-lights, comestibles, rouge, crinoline-petticoats, diamonds, wigs, Louis- Quatorze gimcracks, and old china, park hacks, and splendid high- stepping carriage horses--all the delights of life, I say,--would go to the deuce, if people did but act upon their silly principles and avoid those whom they dislike and abuse. Whereas, by a little charity and mutual forbearance, things are made to go on pleasantly enough: we may abuse a man as much as we like, and call him the greatest rascal unhanged--but do we wish to hang him therefore? No. We shake hands when we meet. If his cook is good we forgive him and go and dine with him, and we expect he will do the same by us. Thus trade flourishes--civilization advances; peace is kept; new dresses are wanted for new assemblies every week; and the last year's vintage of Lafitte will remunerate the honest proprietor who reared it.
At the time whereof we are writing, though the Great George was on the throne and ladies wore gigots and large combs like tortoise- shell shovels in their hair, instead of the simple sleeves and lovely wreaths which are actually in fashion, the manners of the very polite world were not, I take it, essentially different from those of the present day: and their amusements pretty similar. To us, from the outside, gazing over the policeman's shoulders at the bewildering beauties as they pass into Court or ball, they may seem beings of unearthly splendour and in the enjoyment of an exquisite happiness by us unattainable. It is to console some of these dissatisfied beings that we are narrating our dear Becky's struggles, and triumphs, and disappointments, of all of which, indeed, as is the case with all persons of merit, she had her share.
At this time the amiable amusement of acting charades had come among us from France, and was considerably in vogue in this country, enabling the many ladies amongst us who had beauty to display their charms, and the fewer number who had cleverness to exhibit their wit. My Lord Steyne was incited by Becky, who perhaps believed herself endowed with both the above qualifications, to give an entertainment at Gaunt House, which should include some of these little dramas--and we must take leave to introduce the reader to this brilliant reunion, and, with a melancholy welcome too, for it will be among the very last of the fashionable entertainments to which it will be our fortune to conduct him.
A portion of that splendid room, the picture gallery of Gaunt House, was arranged as the charade theatre. It had been so used when George III was king; and a picture of the Marquis of Gaunt is still extant, with his hair in powder and a pink ribbon, in a Roman shape, as it was called, enacting the part of Cato in Mr. Addison's tragedy of that name, performed before their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales, the Bishop of Osnaburgh, and Prince William Henry, then children like the actor. One or two of the old properties were drawn out of the garrets, where they had lain ever since, and furbished up anew for the present festivities.
Young Bedwin Sands, then an elegant dandy and Eastern traveller, was manager of the revels. An Eastern traveller was somebody in those days, and the adventurous Bedwin, who had published his quarto and passed some months under the tents in the desert, was a personage of no small importance. In his volume there were several pictures of Sands in various oriental costumes; and he travelled about with a black attendant of most unprepossessing appearance, just like another Brian de Bois Guilbert. Bedwin, his costumes, and black man, were hailed at Gaunt House as very valuable acquisitions.
He led off the first charade. A Turkish officer with an immense plume of feathers (the Janizaries were supposed to be still in existence, and the tarboosh had not as yet displaced the ancient and majestic head-dress of the true believers) was seen couched on a divan, and making believe to puff at a narghile, in which, however, for the sake of the ladies, only a fragrant pastille was allowed to smoke. The Turkish dignitary yawns and expresses signs of weariness and idleness. He claps his hands and Mesrour the Nubian appears, with bare arms, bangles, yataghans, and every Eastern ornament-- gaunt, tall, and hideous. He makes a salaam before my lord the Aga.
A thrill of terror and delight runs through the assembly. The ladies whisper to one another. The black slave was given to Bedwin Sands by an Egyptian pasha in exchange for three dozen of Maraschino. He has sewn up ever so many odalisques in sacks and tilted them into the Nile.
"Bid the slave-merchant enter," says the Turkish voluptuary with a wave of his hand. Mesrour conducts the slave-merchant into my lord's presence; he brings a veiled female with him. He removes the veil. A thrill of applause bursts through the house. It is Mrs. Winkworth (she was a Miss Absolom) with the beautiful eyes and hair. She is in a gorgeous oriental costume; the black braided locks are twined with innumerable jewels; her dress is covered over with gold piastres. The odious Mahometan expresses himself charmed by her beauty. She falls down on her knees and entreats him to restore her to the mountains where she was born, and where her Circassian lover is still deploring the absence of his Zuleikah. No entreaties will move the obdurate Hassan. He laughs at the notion of the Circassian bridegroom. Zuleikah covers her face with her hands and drops down in an attitude of the most beautiful despair. There seems to be no hope for her, when--when the Kislar Aga appears.
The Kislar Aga brings a letter from the Sultan. Hassan receives and places on his head the dread firman. A ghastly terror seizes him, while on the Negro's face (it is Mesrour again in another costume) appears a ghastly joy. "Mercy! mercy!" cries the Pasha: while the Kislar Aga, grinning horribly, pulls out--a bow-string.
The curtain draws just as he is going to use that awful weapon. Hassan from within bawls out, "First two syllables"--and Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, who is going to act in the charade, comes forward and compliments Mrs. Winkworth on the admirable taste and beauty of her costume.
The second part of the charade takes place. It is still an Eastern scene. Hassan, in another dress, is in an attitude by Zuleikah, who is perfectly reconciled to him. The Kislar Aga has become a peaceful black slave. It is sunrise on the desert, and the Turks turn their heads eastwards and bow to the sand. As there are no dromedaries at hand, the band facetiously plays "The Camels are coming." An enormous Egyptian head figures in the scene. It is a musical one-- and, to the surprise of the oriental travellers, sings a comic song, composed by Mr. Wagg. The Eastern voyagers go off dancing, like Papageno and the Moorish King in The Magic Flute. "Last two syllables," roars the head.
The last act opens. It is a Grecian tent this time. A tall and stalwart man reposes on a couch there. Above him hang his helmet and shield. There is no need for them now. Ilium is down. Iphigenia is slain. Cassandra is a prisoner in his outer halls. The king of men (it is Colonel Crawley, who, indeed, has no notion about the sack of Ilium or the conquest of Cassandra), the anax andron is asleep in his chamber at Argos. A lamp casts the broad shadow of the sleeping warrior flickering on the wall--the sword and shield of Troy glitter in its light. The band plays the awful music of Don Juan, before the statue enters.
Aegisthus steals in pale and on tiptoe. What is that ghastly face looking out balefully after him from behind the arras? He raises his dagger to strike the sleeper, who turns in his bed, and opens his broad chest as if for the blow. He cannot strike the noble slumbering chieftain. Clytemnestra glides swiftly into the room like an apparition--her arms are bare and white--her tawny hair floats down her shoulders--her face is deadly pale--and her eyes are lighted up with a smile so ghastly that people quake as they look at her.
A tremor ran through the room. "Good God!" somebody said, "it's Mrs. Rawdon Crawley."
Scornfully she snatches the dagger out of Aegisthus's hand and advances to the bed. You see it shining over her head in the glimmer of the lamp, and--and the lamp goes out, with a groan, and all is dark.
The darkness and the scene frightened people. Rebecca performed her part so well, and with such ghastly truth, that the spectators were all dumb, until, with a burst, all the lamps of the hall blazed out again, when everybody began to shout applause. "Brava! brava!" old Steyne's strident voice was heard roaring over all the rest. "By--, she'd do it too," he said between his teeth. The performers were called by the whole house, which sounded with cries of "Manager! Clytemnestra!" Agamemnon could not be got to show in his classical tunic, but stood in the background with Aegisthus and others of the performers of the little play. Mr. Bedwin Sands led on Zuleikah and Clytemnestra. A great personage insisted on being presented to the charming Clytemnestra. "Heigh ha? Run him through the body. Marry somebody else, hay?" was the apposite remark made by His Royal Highness.
"Mrs. Rawdon Crawley was quite killing in the part," said Lord Steyne. Becky laughed, gay and saucy looking, and swept the prettiest little curtsey ever seen.
Servants brought in salvers covered with numerous cool dainties, and the performers disappeared to get ready for the second charade- tableau.
The three syllables of this charade were to be depicted in pantomime, and the performance took place in the following wise:
First syllable. Colonel Rawdon Crawley, C.B., with a slouched hat and a staff, a great-coat, and a lantern borrowed from the stables, passed across the stage bawling out, as if warning the inhabitants of the hour. In the lower window are seen two bagmen playing apparently at the game of cribbage, over which they yawn much. To them enters one looking like Boots (the Honourable G. Ringwood), which character the young gentleman performed to perfection, and divests them of their lower coverings; and presently Chambermaid (the Right Honourable Lord Southdown) with two candlesticks, and a warming-pan. She ascends to the upper apartment and warms the bed. She uses the warming-pan as a weapon wherewith she wards off the attention of the bagmen. She exits. They put on their night-caps and pull down the blinds. Boots comes out and closes the shutters of the ground-floor chamber. You hear him bolting and chaining the door within. All the lights go out. The music plays Dormez, dormez, chers Amours. A voice from behind the curtain says, "First syllable."
Second syllable. The lamps are lighted up all of a sudden. The music plays the old air from John of Paris, Ah quel plaisir d'etre en voyage. It is the same scene. Between the first and second floors of the house represented, you behold a sign on which the Steyne arms are painted. All the bells are ringing all over the house. In the lower apartment you see a man with a long slip of paper presenting it to another, who shakes his fists, threatens and vows that it is monstrous. "Ostler, bring round my gig," cries another at the door. He chucks Chambermaid (the Right Honourable Lord Southdown) under the chin; she seems to deplore his absence, as Calypso did that of that other eminent traveller Ulysses. Boots (the Honourable G. Ringwood) passes with a wooden box, containing silver flagons, and cries "Pots" with such exquisite humour and naturalness that the whole house rings with applause, and a bouquet is thrown to him. Crack, crack, crack, go the whips. Landlord, chambermaid, waiter rush to the door, but just as some distinguished guest is arriving, the curtains close, and the invisible theatrical manager cries out "Second syllable."
"I think it must be 'Hotel,'" says Captain Grigg of the Life Guards; there is a general laugh at the Captain's cleverness. He is not very far from the mark.
While the third syllable is in preparation, the band begins a nautical medley--"All in the Downs," "Cease Rude Boreas," "Rule Britannia," "In the Bay of Biscay O!"--some maritime event is about to take place. A ben is heard ringing as the curtain draws aside. "Now, gents, for the shore!" a voice exclaims. People take leave of each other. They point anxiously as if towards the clouds, which are represented by a dark curtain, and they nod their heads in fear. Lady Squeams (the Right Honourable Lord Southdown), her lap-dog, her bags, reticules, and husband sit down, and cling hold of some ropes. It is evidently a ship.
The Captain (Colonel Crawley, C.B.), with a cocked hat and a telescope, comes in, holding his hat on his head, and looks out; his coat tails fly about as if in the wind. When he leaves go of his hat to use his telescope, his hat flies off, with immense applause. It is blowing fresh. The music rises and whistles louder and louder; the mariners go across the stage staggering, as if the ship was in severe motion. The Steward (the Honourable G. Ringwood) passes reeling by, holding six basins. He puts one rapidly by Lord Squeams--Lady Squeams, giving a pinch to her dog, which begins to howl piteously, puts her pocket-handkerchief to her face, and rushes away as for the cabin. The music rises up to the wildest pitch of stormy excitement, and the third syllable is concluded.
There was a little ballet, "Le Rossignol," in which Montessu and Noblet used to be famous in those days, and which Mr. Wagg transferred to the English stage as an opera, putting his verse, of which he was a skilful writer, to the pretty airs of the ballet. It was dressed in old French costume, and little Lord Southdown now appeared admirably attired in the disguise of an old woman hobbling about the stage with a faultless crooked stick.
Trills of melody were heard behind the scenes, and gurgling from a sweet pasteboard cottage covered with roses and trellis work. "Philomele, Philomele," cries the old woman, and Philomele comes out.
More applause--it is Mrs. Rawdon Crawley in powder and patches, the most ravissante little Marquise in the world.
She comes in laughing, humming, and frisks about the stage with all the innocence of theatrical youth--she makes a curtsey. Mamma says "Why, child, you are always laughing and singing," and away she goes, with--
THE ROSE UPON MY BALCONY
The rose upon my balcony the morning air perfuming Was leafless all the winter time and pining for the spring; You ask me why her breath is sweet and why her cheek is blooming, It is because the sun is out and birds begin to sing.
The nightingale, whose melody is through the greenwood ringing, Was silent when the boughs were bare and winds were blowing keen: And if, Mamma, you ask of me the reason of his singing, It is because the sun is out and all the leaves are green.
Thus each performs his part, Mamma, the birds have found their voices, The blowing rose a flush, Mamma, her bonny cheek to dye; And there's sunshine in my heart, Mamma, which wakens and rejoices, And so I sing and blush, Mamma, and that's the reason why.
During the intervals of the stanzas of this ditty, the good-natured personage addressed as Mamma by the singer, and whose large whiskers appeared under her cap, seemed very anxious to exhibit her maternal affection by embracing the innocent creature who performed the daughter's part. Every caress was received with loud acclamations of laughter by the sympathizing audience. At its conclusion (while the music was performing a symphony as if ever so many birds were warbling) the whole house was unanimous for an encore: and applause and bouquets without end were showered upon the Nightingale of the evening. Lord Steyne's voice of applause was loudest of all. Becky, the nightingale, took the flowers which he threw to her and pressed them to her heart with the air of a consummate comedian. Lord Steyne was frantic with delight. His guests' enthusiasm harmonized with his own. Where was the beautiful black-eyed Houri whose appearance in the first charade had caused such delight? She was twice as handsome as Becky, but the brilliancy of the latter had quite eclipsed her. All voices were for her. Stephens, Caradori, Ronzi de Begnis, people compared her to one or the other, and agreed with good reason, very likely, that had she been an actress none on the stage could have surpassed her. She had reached her culmination: her voice rose trilling and bright over the storm of applause, and soared as high and joyful as her triumph. There was a ball after the dramatic entertainments, and everybody pressed round Becky as the great point of attraction of the evening. The Royal Personage declared with an oath that she was perfection, and engaged her again and again in conversation. Little Becky's soul swelled with pride and delight at these honours; she saw fortune, fame, fashion before her. Lord Steyne was her slave, followed her everywhere, and scarcely spoke to any one in the room beside, and paid her the most marked compliments and attention. She still appeared in her Marquise costume and danced a minuet with Monsieur de Truffigny, Monsieur Le Duc de la Jabotiere's attache; and the Duke, who had all the traditions of the ancient court, pronounced that Madame Crawley was worthy to have been a pupil of Vestris, or to have figured at Versailles. Only a feeling of dignity, the gout, and the strongest sense of duty and personal sacrifice prevented his Excellency from dancing with her himself, and he declared in public that a lady who could talk and dance like Mrs. Rawdon was fit to be ambassadress at any court in Europe. He was only consoled when he heard that she was half a Frenchwoman by birth. "None but a compatriot," his Excellency declared, "could have performed that majestic dance in such a way."
Then she figured in a waltz with Monsieur de Klingenspohr, the Prince of Peterwaradin's cousin and attache. The delighted Prince, having less retenue than his French diplomatic colleague, insisted upon taking a turn with the charming creature, and twirled round the ball-room with her, scattering the diamonds out of his boot-tassels and hussar jacket until his Highness was fairly out of breath. Papoosh Pasha himself would have liked to dance with her if that amusement had been the custom of his country. The company made a circle round her and applauded as wildly as if she had been a Noblet or a Taglioni. Everybody was in ecstacy; and Becky too, you may be sure. She passed by Lady Stunnington with a look of scorn. She patronized Lady Gaunt and her astonished and mortified sister-in- law--she ecrased all rival charmers. As for poor Mrs. Winkworth, and her long hair and great eyes, which had made such an effect at the commencement of the evening--where was she now? Nowhere in the race. She might tear her long hair and cry her great eyes out, but there was not a person to heed or to deplore the discomfiture.
The greatest triumph of all was at supper time. She was placed at the grand exclusive table with his Royal Highness the exalted personage before mentioned, and the rest of the great guests. She was served on gold plate. She might have had pearls melted into her champagne if she liked--another Cleopatra--and the potentate of Peterwaradin would have given half the brilliants off his jacket for a kind glance from those dazzling eyes. Jabotiere wrote home about her to his government. The ladies at the other tables, who supped off mere silver and marked Lord Steyne's constant attention to her, vowed it was a monstrous infatuation, a gross insult to ladies of rank. If sarcasm could have killed, Lady Stunnington would have slain her on the spot.
Rawdon Crawley was scared at these triumphs. They seemed to separate his wife farther than ever from him somehow. He thought with a feeling very like pain how immeasurably she was his superior.
When the hour of departure came, a crowd of young men followed her to her carriage, for which the people without bawled, the cry being caught up by the link-men who were stationed outside the tall gates of Gaunt House, congratulating each person who issued from the gate and hoping his Lordship had enjoyed this noble party.
Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's carriage, coming up to the gate after due shouting, rattled into the illuminated court-yard and drove up to the covered way. Rawdon put his wife into the carriage, which drove off. Mr. Wenham had proposed to him to walk home, and offered the Colonel the refreshment of a cigar.
They lighted their cigars by the lamp of one of the many link-boys outside, and Rawdon walked on with his friend Wenham. Two persons separated from the crowd and followed the two gentlemen; and when they had walked down Gaunt Square a few score of paces, one of the men came up and, touching Rawdon on the shoulder, said, "Beg your pardon, Colonel, I vish to speak to you most particular." This gentleman's acquaintance gave a loud whistle as the latter spoke, at which signal a cab came clattering up from those stationed at the gate of Gaunt House--and the aide-de-camp ran round and placed himself in front of Colonel Crawley.
That gallant officer at once knew what had befallen him. He was in the hands of the bailiffs. He started back, falling against the man who had first touched him.
"We're three on us--it's no use bolting," the man behind said.
"It's you, Moss, is it?" said the Colonel, who appeared to know his interlocutor. "How much is it?"
"Only a small thing," whispered Mr. Moss, of Cursitor Street, Chancery Lane, and assistant officer to the Sheriff of Middlesex-- "One hundred and sixty-six, six and eight-pence, at the suit of Mr. Nathan."
"Lend me a hundred, Wenham, for God's sake," poor Rawdon said--"I've got seventy at home."
"I've not got ten pounds in the world," said poor Mr. Wenham--"Good night, my dear fellow."
"Good night," said Rawdon ruefully. And Wenham walked away--and Rawdon Crawley finished his cigar as the cab drove under Temple Bar.

第 五 十 一 章    字 谜 表 演
    (当时英国通行猜字游戏,通常在宴会以后当作余兴.譬如拣中做谜底的字有好几个音节,便由一部分宾客客串几幕极短的表演,首先分别将每个音节作为中心题目,然后把整个字作为中心题目,其余的客人就根据表演猜字.)
    贤慧的蓓基自从在斯丹恩勋爵招待贵客的宴会上露过脸之后,她在上流社会里的地位就算奠定了.伦敦好几家权势赫赫的豪贵立刻请她去作客.这几家全是大官大府,亲爱的读者和我这写书的休想进他们的大门.亲爱的弟兄们,我们站在这么庄严的大门前面,应该诚惶诚恐才对.在我想像之中,里面准有站班的侍从官,他们手里拿了亮晃晃的银叉子,看见有不合格的闲人进来,举起叉子就刺.外厅里不是总坐着个新闻记者,等着记录那些大人物的名字吗?据说这些可怜的家伙是活不长的,因为他们受不住豪门的气焰,一下子给烤焦了,就好像不懂事的茜美莉(大神朱彼特爱上了茜美莉,大神的妻子朱诺非常妒忌,便去哄骗茜美莉,叫她恳求大神第二回下凡时拿对待朱诺的礼节对待她,于是朱彼特带了霹雳和闪电同来,茜美莉便给烧死了.)碰上了全副武装的朱彼特大神.这糊涂东西像乱飞乱扑的灯蛾,不安本分,妄想攀高,结果白白葬送了自己.住在泰勃尼亚和蓓尔格蕾微亚(伦敦比较贵族化的住宅区.萨克雷的小说中时常提到泰勃尼亚.)的人应当把这个神话作为前车之鉴;不但如此,连蓓基的故事也该使他们警惕.唉,太太小姐们!蓓尔格蕾微亚和泰勃尼亚这些响亮的名字还不是像铜锣铙钹的声音一样空洞?富贵和荣华还不是过眼云烟,谁能保一辈子呢?不信你去问都里弗牧师,他准是这么跟你说.总有一天,海德公园这名字说不响了,落到巴比伦郊外盛极一时的山水那样没没无闻的地步(巴比伦本是平原,有一朝的王后怀念故乡的山水,因此在城的四围都造了假山,在当时是很有名的.);总有一天,蓓尔格蕾微亚广场会跟贝克街一样冷落,甚至于像旷野里的泰特莫(所罗门在叙利亚的旷野中建立的城市,曾经繁荣过一时,后来便成了废墟.)一样荒凉.谢天谢地,这种日子我们是看不见的了.
    太太小姐们,你们可知道那了不起的毕脱从前就住在贝克街吗?他的公馆现在虽然零落不堪,当年海斯德夫人(海斯德夫人(Ｌａｄｙ　Ｈｅｓｔｅｒ),毕脱的侄女儿,曾经替他当过家.)在里面请客的时候,你们的祖母变着法子还进不了她的大门呢.不骗你,写书的曾经在那所房子里吃过饭.在我幻想之中,那批有名儿的古人也都出席了.我们活人正正经经的坐着喝红酒,他们的魂魄也走到屋里绕着深棕色的饭桌子坐下来.战胜风涛的驾驶员(指毕脱,因为他和拿破仑的一场斗争着实剧烈.诗人乔治.凯宁(Ｇｅｏｒｇｅ　Ｃａｎｎｉｎｇ,１７７０—１８２７)献给他的一首诗就称他为战胜风涛的驾驶员(Ｔｈｅ　Ｐｉｌｏｔ　Ｔｈａｔ　Ｗｅａｔｈｅｒｅｄ　ｔｈｅ　Ｓｔｏｒｍ).)一大杯一大杯的喝着没有实质的葡萄酒.邓达斯(邓达斯(Ｈｅｎｒｙ　Ｄｕｎｄａｓ,Ｌｏｒｄ　Ｍｅｌｖｉｌｌｅ,１７４２—１８１１)以及底下提到的爱亭登(Ｈｅｎｒｙ　Ｅｄｄｉｎｇｔｏｎ,Ｌｏｒｄ　Ｓｉｄ－ｍｏｕｔｈ,１７５７—１８４４)和斯各脱(Ｊｏｈｎ　Ｓｅｏｔｔ,Ｌｏｒｄ　Ｅｌｄｏｎ,１７５１—１８３８)都是毕脱当政时手下的健将,同时又是他的朋友.)干了杯,连酒脚都没剩下一点儿.爱亭登坐在那儿鬼模鬼样的哈着腰假笑,大伙儿悄没声儿的把酒瓶传来传去,他也没有肯少喝.斯各脱从他两道浓眉底下瞧着陈年的葡萄酒(或者该说这酒的幽灵),眨巴了一下眼睛.威尔勃福斯两眼看着天花板,仿佛不知道满满的酒杯举到唇边,搁下来的时候已经空空如也.唉!不久以前我们不是还坐在这块天花板底下吗?从前的大人物谁没有对着它出神?这所公馆如今已经成了寄宿舍.海斯德夫人从前住在贝克街,现在却躺在旷野里长眠不醒了.以奥登(以奥登(Ｅｏｔｈｅｎ)是十九世纪英国作家金雷克(Ａ．Ｗ．Ｋｉｎｇｌａｋｅ)所著近东游记.这里指金雷克本人.)还在那儿见过她来着......此地说的不是在贝克街,而是在旷野里.
    这一切都是过眼浮华,可是谁不贪恋呢?神志清明的人难道因为烤牛肉不能流传到后世就不吃它不成?烤牛肉当然不是什么有价值的东西,可是我却希望读者多吃些,因为它最能滋养身体,就是读者活到五万岁,还是少不了它.先生们,坐下请用吧!请你们放开胃口,把肥肉.瘦肉.做浇头的肉汤,还有煮在里面的萝卜,统统吃下去,什么都别留下.琼斯,我的孩子,再喝杯酒,尝些最好的排骨.咱们把这些虚浮无聊的东西多吃些,能够尝到这样的菜,应该心满意足才是.如今蓓基的生活贵族化了,我们也该跟着她受用受用.这种快乐好像世界上其他一切,都是不能长久的.
    她在斯丹恩勋爵家里作客以后第二天,彼德乌拉亭的大公爵在俱乐部碰见克劳莱上校,马上跟他攀谈.不但如此,他还在海德公园的圆场里对着克劳莱太太脱了帽子深深的鞠躬.当时莱文大厦的尊贵的主人不在英国,大公爵暂时借住在那里.不久他招待贵客,也请了克劳莱夫妇.饭后蓓基唱歌给一小簇贵客听.斯丹恩侯爵也在场,像父亲一般的督促着蓓基一步步往上爬.
    在莱文大厦,蓓基遇见了特.拉.夏伯蒂哀公爵.他是欧洲第一流的绅士,而且位极人臣,当年正是那"至虔极诚基督教大王"(这是当时教皇特赐给法王的封号.)的大使,后来又做他的宰相.当我笔下写出这么威风的名字,想起亲爱的蓓基竟能够和这么体面的人物来往,真叫我得意洋洋.从此她成了法国大使馆的常客.如果可爱的罗登.克劳莱太太不在场的话,那次请客就显得黯然无光.
    大使馆的两个参赞,一位特.脱吕菲尼先生(贝利各一族的),一位香比涅克先生(脱吕菲尼(Ｔｒｕｆｆｉｇｎｙ)和香比涅克(Ｃｈａｍｐｉｇｎａｃ)使人联想到香槟酒;香槟酒是豪华的生活的象征,这里指两位参赞是上流社会里的花花公子.),一见上校的美貌太太,登时着了迷.谁都知道,无论什么法国人离开英国的时候,总已经破坏了六七个家庭的幸福,带走了六七个女人的心;这两位按照法国人的习惯,告诉别人说那妩媚的克劳莱太太已经跟他们好得难分难舍.
    这话我不大相信.香比涅克很喜欢玩埃加脱,晚上蓓基唱歌给斯丹恩勋爵听,他往往在隔壁房里和上校打牌.脱吕菲尼呢,大家知道他欠了旅客俱乐部的茶房好些钱,因此不敢到俱乐部去.如果大使馆不供饭食的话,这位人品高尚的大爷准会挨饿.所以我不相信蓓基会对这两位垂青.他们替她跑跑腿,买买手套花球,借了钱给她定歌剧院的包厢,在各种各样的小事情上巴结她.他们说的英文简单得逗人发笑,蓓基时常当面模仿他们,或是奉承他们英文有进步,和斯丹恩侯爵两人借此取个笑.蓓基的靠山斯丹恩侯爵最喜欢挖苦别人,瞧她绷着正经脸儿打趣他们,乐得了不得.脱吕菲尼指望讨好蓓基的心腹布立葛丝,送给她一条披肩,求她送信.哪知道这老姑娘实心眼儿,竟把这封信当着众人交给蓓基.在场的人看了这信大发一笑.斯丹恩勋爵和其余的人传观了一遍,只有罗登不知道.原来梅飞厄的小房子里发生的事情并不全告诉他.
    蓓基家里不但招待"最高尚"的外国人,而且也招待"最高尚"的英国人."高尚"这两个字在我们这高贵的.非凡的上流社会中用得很广泛,这意思并不是说品行最好的,或是品行最坏的,或是最聪明的,或是最愚蠢的,或是最有钱的,或是家世最好的,而是最"高尚"的;换句话说,就是地位最牢靠的人.像了不起的�嗤�廉斯夫人(她称得上阿耳马克的聚会处的主保圣人)(阿耳马克的聚会处(Ａｌｍａｃｋ,ｓ　Ａｓｓｅｍｂｌｙ　Ｒｏｏｍｓ)在圣詹姆士皇宫附近的大王街,十八十九世纪上流社会的大宴会在此地举行.);了不起的斯洛卜夫人,了不起的葛立泽儿.麦克贝斯夫人(她父亲就是葛拉瑞的葛瑞勋爵)等等,都算在里面.�嘧掏�廉斯伯爵夫人属于大王街的一支,只要查特白莱和伯克编著的《缙绅录》就知底细.如果她肯和某人来往,某人的地位就稳了.我倒并不是说�嘧掏�廉斯夫人有什么出人头地的去处;她干枯憔悴,年纪已经五十七岁,既无貌,又无财,谈吐也并不风趣,可是大家公认她"高尚",到她家里去的人自然也是"高尚"的.她是上流社会里鼎鼎大名的贵妇人,芳名叫做乔治安娜.�嗬程乩蚣�.当年她父亲朴登雪笠伯爵是威尔斯亲王的宠臣.她年轻的时候很想戴斯丹恩侯爵夫人的冠冕,因此和现在的斯丹恩夫人不对.大概因为这缘故,她特别抬举罗登.克劳莱太太,竟在她自己主持的宴会上,和克劳莱太太打招呼,故意让大家看见.她不但鼓励她的儿子葛滋爵士(他的位子是靠斯丹恩勋爵谋来的)时常到克劳莱太太家里去走动,而且把她请到自己家里,吃饭的时候在大庭广众之前赏脸跟她说了一两回话.这件重要的新闻当晚就传遍了伦敦城.原来唾骂克劳莱太太的人不敢再响.那有名口角俏皮的威纳姆律师,斯丹恩勋爵的左右手,逢人便颂扬她的好处.从前打不定主意的人如今毫不迟疑的欢迎她.汤姆.托迪这小子本来劝告莎吴塞唐不要和这样放浪的女人来往,现在反而求别人带着去见她.总而言之,她也算"最高尚"的人物之一了.且慢,亲爱的读者们,亲爱的弟兄们,咱们暂且不必羡慕可怜的蓓基.据说这样的荣华是靠不住的.大家都说上流社会里最阔的红人并不比在外面欲进无路的可怜虫快乐多少.蓓基当年相与的全是最最有权有势的达官贵人,甚至于面对面的见过那了不起的乔治第四,可是连她也承认这些不过是虚场面.
    蓓基的这一段经历,我不再细说了.社会上各宗派团体里面的内幕秘密,我不大清楚,不过我很明白这些不过是骗局.对于上流社会中的形形色色我是门外汉,描写不会准确,就是有什么见解,也只能在心里藏着罢了.
    蓓基后来常常谈起她当年在伦敦和豪贵周旋的情形.那时她的目的已经达到,满心得意高兴,可惜到后来对于这玩意儿也觉得厌倦了.一起头的时候她成天不是忙着设计衣服首饰,添置新装(像她这样收入微薄,这可不是容易的事,不知得花多少心血,费多少精力)......我刚才说到她不是忙着添置最漂亮的衣服首饰,就是坐着马车到时髦的场合去赶宴会,受大人物的欢迎,还能不乐吗?她从最上乘的小宴会换到最上乘的大集会,刚才在一起吃饭的人还是碰在一块儿.第一天晚上遇见的是这批人,第二天白天遇见的又是这批人.年轻的打着漂亮的领巾,穿着又亮又精致的鞋子,戴着白手套,修饰得一点毛病都挑不出来.年纪大的长得魁梧奇伟,衣服上整排的铜扣子,气宇又轩昂,礼貌又周到,只是说的话淡而无味.小姐里面黄头发白皮肤的居多,穿着浅红的袍子,见了人非常腼腆怕羞.太太们没一个不戴金刚钻首饰,真是雍容华贵,仪态万方,又美丽,又端庄.这些人虽然是贵族,倒并不像那种小说里形容的,用不通的法文来交谈,大家全说英文.他们议论别人住的房子,家里过活的情形,人品的好坏,也不过像张三议论李四似的.蓓基从前的熟人又妒忌她,又恨她.她自己呢,可怜虫,却对于这种生活腻味极了.她自己对自己说:"我真不想过这日子!如果我是个牧师的老婆,每星期天教教主日学校,还比现在强.或者嫁个军曹,坐了货车随着部队满处跑,那也不错.唉!我恨不得穿上长裤子,衣服上缝着水钻片儿,在赶市的日子跳舞挣钱."
    斯丹恩勋爵笑道:"你一定跳得不错."蓓基对这位大人物毫无矫饰,常常把心里的烦闷说给他听,逗他笑一笑.
    "罗登做马戏团的领班一定合适......那种穿了大靴子和制服在场子里面打响鞭子的人......叫什么司礼官什么的?他长的高大魁伟,很像个大兵."她默默的想着从前的事,说道:"小时候我父亲带我到白鲁克村公共草地上的市集去看戏,回家以后我自己做了一副高跷,就在父亲图画间里跳舞,所有的学生都佩服我."
    斯丹恩勋爵道:"我很想看看."
    蓓基接下去说道:"我巴不得现在就跳.这样一来准把白林该夫人和葛立泽儿.麦克贝斯夫人吓得目瞪口呆.嘘,别说话!巴斯达(巴斯达(Ｇｉｕｄｉｔｔａ　Ｎｅｇｒｉ　Ｐａｓｔａ,１７９６—１８６５),意大利歌舞家.)要唱歌了."这些豪门请客的时候,往往特约职业艺人去表演,蓓基故意当着大家和他们应酬.有时他们悄悄默默的坐在犄角上,她特地跟上去,笑眯眯的和他们握手.她说的不错,她自己也是个艺人.她并不隐瞒自己的出身,说的话很直率,也很虚心.旁观的人有的瞧着她不顺眼,有的觉得她可笑,有的反倒因此原谅她.一个说:"瞧那女人钝皮老脸,居然装出独立特行的腔调来.像她这样,还是乖乖的坐着去,有人肯理她就算便宜她了."一个说:"她为人老实,脾气也好."一个说:"真是个诡计多端的狐狸精!"这几个人说的话,都有些道理.好在蓓基我行我素,什么都不在乎,把那些职业艺术家哄得心悦诚服,甘心白教她唱歌,或是在她宴会上表演,即使本来说喉痛,为了她,情愿不装病.
    她有时候在克生街的小房子里请客,一下子来了几十辆马车,点着明晃晃的大灯,把街上塞得水泄不通.隔壁一百号和一百零二号两家的人恨透了......一百号给打雷似的敲门声音闹得不能睡,一百零二号是妒忌的睡不着.车上的跟班全是大高个儿,她的小过道里坐不下,给打发到附近的酒店里去喝啤酒,该他们当差的时候自有传话的小童儿来传他们回去.几十个伦敦的豪华公子在小楼梯上推推挤挤,你踩我我踩你的,觉得到了这么个地方来真有意思.许多最受尊敬最有体面的贵妇人坐在那小客厅里听歌唱家表演.这些人在戏合上唱惯了,一开口就使足了劲,竟好像要把窗户一口气吹下来.第二天,《晨报》上关于时髦集会的新闻里面写道:
    "罗登.克劳莱上校夫妇昨天在梅飞厄公馆里大宴贵宾,赴宴的有彼得窝拉亭大公和大公夫人,土耳其大使赫.依.巴布希.巴夏和他的翻译员基卜勃.贝,斯丹恩侯爵,莎吴塞唐伯爵,毕脱.克劳莱爵士和吉恩.克劳莱夫人,滑葛先生等等.饭后又有集会,到会的有思蒂尔顿老公爵夫人,特.拉.葛吕以哀公爵,却夏侯爵夫人,亚莱桑特罗.斯特拉希诺侯爵,特.勃里伯爵,夏泊组葛男爵,托斯蒂骑士,斯林斯登伯爵夫人,��.麦卡登夫人,麦克贝斯少将,葛.麦克贝斯夫人,两位麦克贝斯小姐,巴亭登子爵,贺拉丝.福葛爵士,撒兹.贝德温先生,巴巴希.巴霍特"......其余还有许多客人,随读者爱填什么名字就填什么名字,恐怕得添上十来行密密的小字才写得完呢.
    我们这亲爱的朋友对待大人物和她对待地位低微的人一样直爽.有一天,她在一家体面人家吃饭,和一个法国著名的男高音用法文谈话,很有些故意卖弄的意思.葛立泽儿.麦克贝斯夫人回过头来,直眉瞪睛的瞧了他们一眼.
    葛立泽儿夫人道:"你的法文说的多好啊."她自己说起法文来满口爱丁堡的土音,听上去老大刺耳.
    蓓基垂下眼睛谦恭地答道:"我应该说得好.从前我在学校里教过法文,我妈妈是法国人."
    葛立泽儿夫人见她这样谦虚,心里很喜欢,从此不讨厌她了.葛立泽儿夫人认为时下闹阶级平等的趋势最要不得,如果各等各色的人都跑到上流社会里来,成什么体统呢?可是连她也承认利蓓加懂规矩,没把自己的地位忘掉.这位太太是个贤慧妇人,对穷人很慈悲.她生成个实心眼儿,虽然没脑子,却不做亏心事.她自以为比你跟我高出一等,可是这也不能怪她.她的祖宗全是大贵族,几百年来一直有人跪在地上吻他们的袍子边儿.据说一千年前邓肯家里了不起的祖先在苏格兰登基的时候,他手下的王公大臣做衣服就用葛立泽儿夫人老祖宗家的格子布花样.
    斯丹恩夫人自从听利蓓加唱歌之后,对她服服帖帖,说不定还有些喜欢她.岗脱大厦里两位年轻的太太也不得不对她让步.她们曾经有一两回指使别人去攻击她,没有成功.厉害的斯登宁顿夫人曾经和她交过锋,可是她也不是好惹的,一顿把敌人杀得一败涂地.蓓基逢到敌手,偏会装得天真烂漫,这时候一张嘴才厉害呢.她的表情是最诚恳最自然的,说的话可也是最刻毒的.她骂完了人,还故意装出如梦初醒的样子道歉,好让旁人知道她刚才说过什么话.
    有名口角俏皮的滑葛先生是斯丹恩勋爵的食客和帮闲,岗脱大厦的两位太太撺掇他向蓓基开火.一天晚上,这位先生对太太们挤眉弄眼的涎着脸儿笑,仿佛说:"瞧着吧,好戏上场啦."接下来就去取笑蓓基.那时她正在吃饭,没有想到有人算计她,还亏她随时都有准备,虽然出其不意的受到袭击,反手就能招架,立刻还敬了滑葛一句,刚刚揭穿他的心病,羞得他脸上热辣辣的发起烧来.蓓基说完了话,不动声色的喝汤,脸上淡淡的挂着一丝儿笑.滑葛有了斯丹恩勋爵这样一个有权有势的靠山,平时总有饭吃,不时还能借些钱,逢上选举给勋爵办办差,编写编写他的报纸,有杂事的时候插一手帮帮忙.哪知道这一下得罪了勋爵,恶狠狠的瞪了他一眼,慌得那倒楣鬼儿几乎哭起来,恨不能钻到桌子底下去.他可怜巴巴的瞧着勋爵,可是勋爵一顿饭吃完没有睬他;他望望太太们,太太们也不理他.后来还算蓓基发慈悲,对他说了几句话.此后一个半月里头,勋爵没请他吃过饭.勋爵有个亲信叫非希的(滑葛当然一向竭力讨他的好),奉命告诉他,如果他以后再敢顶撞克劳莱太太,说那些无聊的笑语讽刺她的话,侯爵立刻把他所有的借票都交到律师手里结果了他,决不通融.滑葛对非希痛哭流涕,称他好朋友,哀求他在侯爵面前说几句好话.他编写的杂志叫《杂说集》的,在底下一期里面登载着他颂扬罗.克夫人的诗歌.每逢滑葛在宴会上碰见利蓓加,就向她求情.他在俱乐部里又对罗登献媚奉承.过了几时,居然又得到侯爵的恩典,准他回到岗脱大厦来.蓓基对他总是客客气气,脸上挂着笑,从来不生气.
    勋爵的第一号亲信要人叫威纳姆先生;在国会里有他一席,勋爵请客的时候也不漏掉他.这位先生就不同了,说话行事都比滑葛先生谨慎得多.侯爵的这位帮手是个十足道地贵族化的保守党(他父亲是北英国一个做煤生意的小商人),当然痛恨一切暴发户.虽然如此,他可从来没有对于侯爵的新宠表示不满.他暗底下帮她的忙,对她恭而敬之,虽然神情里带那么一两分狡猾,不知为什么,蓓基不怕别人彰明昭著和她挑衅,对于威纳姆这番好意倒有三分怕.
    克劳莱夫妇究竟哪里弄来这么些钱招待贵客呢?当时的人猜测纷纭,说不定使他们家的宴会显得有无穷的意味.有人说毕脱.克劳莱爵士按时贴家用给他弟弟,数目着实不小.如果这话可信,那么从男爵准给蓓基捏在手里凭她驱遣,而且他的性格一定也跟着年龄起了极大的变化.有人风言风语的说蓓基常常到丈夫的朋友那儿去借钱,不是哭哭啼啼的说房子要给没收了,就是给人家跪着诉苦,求他代付某某账单,说是不这样的话,她一家子不坐牢就得自杀.据说她靠着这些苦戏骗了莎吴塞唐勋爵好几百镑的款子.另外一个叫飞尔顿姆的小伙子,是第......联队的骑兵,父亲是专卖帽子和军服的泰勒和飞尔顿姆合营公司的大股东.他能够踏进上流社会,全靠克劳莱夫妇的力量,听说在银钱方面也常常受到蓓基的剥削.据说她还假说能够贿买机密差使,叫好些傻瓜白送钱给她.人家究竟造我们这位清白无辜的好朋友什么谣言,谁也说不上来.总之这句话是不错的,如果她真有了别人谣传她出去讨来.借来.偷来的钱,她一定坐拥厚资,下半辈子也不必干不老实的营生了,事实上......不过这些全是后话,留着慢慢再说.
    事实是这样的,只要持家精明,会打算盘,现钱用得俭省,差不多什么账都不付,就能用极小的进款撑极大的场面,至少在短时期内可以这样支持过去.蓓基的宴会引起的飞短流长真不少;说穿了,她究竟并不常常请客;就是请客的日子,除了墙上的蜡烛之外也并不费什么.静流别墅和女王的克劳莱两处地方可以供给她许多野味和水果.酒是斯丹恩勋爵的酒窖里拿来的.这位大老官待人真好,特地使唤他家有名的厨子到蓓基的小厨房里来当差,而且吩咐把自己厨房里的珍馐美味送过来敬客.老实人往往遭到唾骂,像蓓基就是一个,说来真是可气.其实外面人说她的坏话,十句里信不得一句.如果欠了债还不起的人都得受到排斥,如果我们仔细检查每个人的私生活,推测他有多少收入,因为他花钱不得当就不睬他,那么,这名利场就成了阒无人烟的旷野,谁还能在这儿住下去呢?亲爱的先生,照这样下去,大家全成了冤家对头,行为变得非常野蛮,成天拌嘴,吵架,躲着不见面.我们的房子渐渐沦为地洞,而且既然大家彼此不关心,也就不必讲究外表,只穿破破烂烂的衣服.房租地税从此收不着,宴会从此不举行,做买卖的都得破产.所以说,倘若人人横着荒谬的成见,凡是自己不喜欢的或是痛骂过的人都回避不见的话,人生的乐趣还剩下什么呢?好酒,好食,精致的蜡烛,胭脂,硬衬裙,金刚钻首饰,假头发,古瓷器,路易十四式的玩意儿,公园里的出租马车,高视阔步的拉车骏马,一概取消了.反过来说,彼此容忍宽恕,这日子才有意思.我们尽管痛骂某人混帐,说他是恶棍流氓,应该绞刑处死,其实我们何尝真的愿意绞死他?见面的时候还拉手呢!如果他的厨子手段高明,我们就不跟他计较,到他家里吃饭去.我们这样待他,希望他也这样待我们.于是商业发达了,文明进化了,和平也有保障了.每星期有新的宴会,新衣服就卖得出,辣斐德地方隔年陈的葡萄酒有了销路,老实的葡萄园主人也托赖着多赚几文钱.
    我所描写的时代,刚刚是伟大的乔治当政,太太小姐们时行穿羊腿式的袖子,头上插着铲子似的玳瑁大梳子,不像时下风行的装束,简简单单的袖子,漂亮的束发花圈.两个时代的打扮虽然不同,看来上流社会里的风气却没有多大的改变,作乐消遣的方式也大致相同.我们这些见不着大场面的人,只能在那些打扮得目迷五色的美人儿进宫觐见或是上跳舞会的时候在巡警背后偷偷的瞧一眼,总觉得她们像天仙一样漂亮,不知怎么遂心如意,享的福气都是常人得不到的.为着安慰这些不知足的人,我才写了这部书叙述蓓基怎么打天下,怎么得意,后来又怎么失望.她像一切有本领的人一般,世路上的甜酸苦辣样样尝过.
    正当那时,演字谜戏的风气从法国传到英国,相当的流行.许多相貌好的太太小姐借此露露脸,几个脑子好的太太小姐也借此卖弄聪明.蓓基呢,大约自以为又聪明又好看,一力撺掇斯丹恩勋爵在岗脱大厦请客,连带着演几幕短戏.如今我把读者也带去参加这次灿烂辉煌的宴会.我欢迎读者的时候,心情是很悲惨的,因为这恐怕是请你参加的最后一次大宴会了.
    岗脱大厦富丽堂皇的画廊给划出一半来做戏院.在乔治第三在位的日子,这房子里就演过戏.斯丹恩侯爵当年演爱迪生(爱迪生(Ｊｏｓｅｐｈ　Ａｄｄｉｓｏｎ,１６７２—１７１９),英国散文家,《凯托》(Ｃａｔｏ)是他唯一的悲剧,１７１３年上演.)《凯托》一剧的主角,头发里洒了粉,脑后系着粉红的蝴蝶结......从前所谓罗马式的蝴蝶结;至今还有这样一幅肖像留下来.这出悲剧是演给威尔斯亲王.奥斯那勃主教和威廉.亨利亲王看的,那时他们像演员一样,还是小孩子.用过的道具从那时起就给撩在阁楼上,现在又拿了一两样出来,修一修,新一新,在做戏的时候好用.
    撒兹.贝德温那时还是个文雅的年轻公子,刚从东方回来,这一回演戏就由他主持.在从前,在东方游历过的也算个人物.爱冒险的贝德温在沙漠里勾留了好几个月,住过篷帐,回家后出过游记,更比别人了不起.他的游记里还有他自己的几张像,穿着各种不同的东方衣服.他到处旅行,总有一个相貌丑恶的黑人伺候着,竟是白拉恩.特.波阿.吉尔勃(十九世纪英国小说家司各特历史小说《艾凡赫》(Ｉｖａｎｈｏｅ)中的骑士,他的两个跟班都是黑人.)第二.岗脱大厦的人认为贝德温.他的黑奴和他的东方服饰非常有用,很欢迎他.
    第一段戏就由他领导演出.幕一开,只见台上一个土耳其军官,头上戴着大大的一绺儿羽毛.这幕戏的背景显然不是现在的土耳其,由服饰上看得出旧式禁卫军还没有取消,回教徒也还没有时行戴那种没有边的小帽子,仍旧裹着巍巍然的旧式头巾.那军官躺在榻上假装抽水烟.为着有太太小姐们在场,不能真的抽烟,只好焚一种香饼子.这土耳其大老爷打了个呵欠,做出种种困倦懒散的姿态.他把手一拍,那个努比亚黑人梅斯罗(《天方夜谈》里有一个喜欢微服夜行的国王,他手下执刀剑的侍从叫梅斯罗.)就出来了.他光着胳膊,戴着钏环,佩着长刀短剑和许多东方饰物,看上去又瘦又高又丑.他以手加额,对大老爷鞠了一个躬.
    满堂的看客又害怕又兴奋,女眷们交头接耳的谈论起来.这黑奴是贝德温用三打樱桃酒向一位埃及大官换来的.据说后宫的妃嫔犯了事就给他缝在麻袋里丢下尼罗河去,死在他手里的不知有多少.
    贪恋酒色的土耳其人把手一挥,说道:"叫人牙子进来."梅斯罗把贩奴隶的牙子领到军官面前,后面还跟着一个戴面纱的女奴.他把面纱拿掉,屋里的人立刻啧啧地赞叹起来.扮演女奴的是温克窝斯太太(她娘家姓亚伯索朗),眼睛头发美丽极了.她穿一件华丽的东方衣服,乌油油的头发编成辫子,满头珠翠,衣服上挂着一个个大金洋钱.可恶的回教徒表示为她倾倒.苏拉嘉双膝下跪,哀求他放她回到故乡山里去,因为她的息加新爱人正在为她伤心.铁石心肠的哈撒不但不理她,说起息加新的新郎,乐得直笑.苏拉嘉凄楚动人的掩着脸倒在地上.在山穷水尽的当儿,基色拉大人走了进来.
    他大人特地传苏丹的旨意.哈撒接过圣旨,顶在头上,惶恐得颜色大变,传旨的黑人却恶狠狠的满面得意(他还是梅斯罗,不过换了一件衣服).军官叫道:"饶命!饶命!"基色拉大人狞笑着从口袋里掏出一根弓弦来.(相传古代土耳其人用弓弦当作处死犯人的刑具.)
    他刚刚拿起这凶器预备下手,幕下来了.哈撒在里面大声叫道:"前面二个音节有了!"罗登.克劳莱太太即刻也要上场,这时特地走出来恭维温克窝斯太太,说她的衣服又美丽,又典雅.
    接着,第二幕开始了.布景仍旧带着东方色彩.哈撒换了一件衣服,摆足功架坐在苏拉嘉身边.在这一幕里苏拉嘉和他融洽得很,基色拉大人也变了个和顺的奴隶.开幕时太阳在沙漠里升起来,所有的土耳其人匍匐在沙地上,向东顶礼膜拜.没有骆驼可以上台,只好由乐队奏了一支滑稽的曲子,叫做《骆驼来了》.后面摆着一个硕大无朋的埃及人的脑袋(在埃及底比斯(Ｔｈｅｂｅｓ)附近有一个巨大的人像,传说塑的是在希腊和特洛亚十年战争中显过身手的梅农.日出的时候,人像里会发出音乐来.).这脑袋还会唱歌,而且唱的是滑葛先生作词的滑稽歌.这一下,连戏台上的旅客也吃了一惊.那些东方的旅客像《魔笛》(《魔笛》(Ｔｈｅ　Ｍａｇｉｃ　Ｆｌｕｔｅ)是莫扎特的歌剧,派格奇诺是歌剧里专能利用魔铃捉鸟的人.)中的摩尔王和派格奇诺,舞着跳着,下台去了.那脑袋大声嚷道:"最后的两个音节也有了."
    然后是最后的一幕.这一回,布景是希腊的篷帐.一个魁梧奇伟的男人睡在卧榻上.旁边的墙上挂着头盔和盾牌.这些武器如今不必要了.因为伊里安(伊里安就是特洛亚.这里述说的是希腊和特洛亚十年苦战的故事,所说的君主就是希腊军一方面的首领亚加梅农.)已经打下来,伊菲琪娜亚(亚加梅农的女儿,见第１４８页注①.做了牺牲,卡桑特拉(特洛亚王泼拉哀姆的女儿.)也给他掳来关在外厅.万人之上的君王(荷马在他的史诗里称亚加梅农为万人之上的君王.)(是克劳莱上校扮演的,虽然他对于伊里安陷落在卡桑特拉被俘的故事一点也不知道)......万人之上的君王正在亚各斯,幕开时他睡熟在一间屋子里.戏台上点着一盏灯,他那肥大的影子摇摇晃晃的照在墙上.灯光里,特洛亚的剑和盾牌闪闪烁烁的发亮.演员进来之前乐队奏着《唐璜》(莫扎特的歌剧.)中惨厉的音乐.
    伊杰斯德思(亚各斯王亚加梅农出战时将国家和妻子克里蒂姆耐丝德拉托给伊杰斯德思,伊杰斯德思自己做了克里蒂姆耐丝德拉的情人,两人同谋杀死亚加梅农.)脸色苍白,踮起脚尖偷偷的走进来.幔子后面露出一张怪可怕的脸,恶狠狠的往外瞧.他举起匕首准备下手,睡熟的人在床上翻了个身,敞开又宽又大的胸口,仿佛准备让他行刺.他瞧瞧床上那尊贵的首领,实在下不了毒手.克里蒂姆耐丝德拉光着雪白的膀子,棕黄的头发从两肩披下来.像幽灵一样又轻又快的溜到屋里.她脸色惨白,眼睛里带着点儿微笑,那险恶的表情看得大家哆嗦起来.
    全堂一阵骚动,一个看客说道:"老天哪,这是罗登.克劳莱太太."
    她轻蔑的从伊杰斯德思手里夺下匕首,走到卧榻旁边.在灯光里,只见高高举起的匕首在她头顶上发光,然后......然后呼的一声,所有的灯都灭了,全场一片漆黑.
    场子里又暗,刚才演的戏又怕人,弄得大家心惊肉跳.利蓓加演得太好.太逼真.太可怕了,看客一时连话都说不出来.然后全场的灯一起大放光明,看客们轰然喝彩.斯丹恩老头儿的声音大得扎耳朵,比谁都嚷得高兴,连声叫道:"好啊!好啊!"他咬着牙说:"天啊,她真做得出来."所有的看客齐声欢呼着请演员出台,只听得一片声的:"请后台经理!请克里蒂姆耐丝德拉!"亚加梅农王不愿意穿着罗马式的紧身衣服出来,只肯和伊杰斯德思等几个演员躲在后面.贝德温先生拉着苏拉嘉和克里蒂姆耐丝德拉走到台前谢幕.一位了不起的大人物一定要和迷人的克里蒂姆耐丝德拉见见面."赫赫!一刀把他刺个透明窟窿.再嫁别的人,是吗?"这就是亲王大人的恰到好处的批评.
    斯丹恩侯爵说:"罗登.克劳莱太太扮演那角色真有勾魂摄魄的力量."蓓基活泼泼的.娇俏的笑了一声,屈着膝行了个最妩媚的礼.
    听差托进一盘盘精巧的冷食.演戏的进去准备底下一幕戏.
    第二个谜底有三个音节,演的是哑剧,剧情如下:
    第一个音节.下级骑士罗登.克劳莱上校戴着一顶软边帽子,拄着拐棍儿,穿了大衣,手里提了一盏马房里借来的灯,高声叫喊着在戏台上走过去,仿佛是报时辰的更夫.底下一个窗户前面有两个兜销货物的行商坐着玩牌,看样子玩的是叶子戏.两个人一面玩一面尽打呵欠.然后旅馆里替人刷皮鞋的来了.葛.林乌德把这角色扮演得维妙维肖,给两个客人脱了鞋.一会儿,打扫房间的女佣人(莎吴塞唐勋爵)拿了两支蜡烛,一个暖壶,走到楼上,给客人暖了床铺.两个行商调戏她,她举起暖壶把他们赶开,然后自己也出去了.旅客们戴好睡帽,拉下窗帘.擦鞋的走到楼下房间里关了百叶窗.外面人还听得见他在里头关门加闩上链子的声音.戏合上所有的灯都灭了.乐队奏着《睡吧,我的爱》.幕后一个声音说:"第一个音节有了."
    第二个音节.台上的灯光忽然亮起来.奏的曲子是《巴黎的约翰》(由十五世纪的法国讽刺小说《巴黎的约翰》(Ｊｅａｎ　ｄｅ　Ｐａｒｉｓ)改编的歌剧.)里面的一支老调《啊,我爱旅行》.布景没有换.在一楼和二楼之间挂了一块牌子,画的是斯丹恩家里的纹章.全屋子里铃声钟声响成一片.在楼下的一间屋子里,一个人拿着一张长长的单子给另外一个人看;那人看了伸出拳头,赌神罚咒的威吓他,骂他混帐.还有一个人在门口叫道:"当槽的,把我的小马车赶过来."他摸摸女佣人(莎吴塞唐勋爵)的下巴,那侍女做出恋恋不舍的样子,就像嘉莉泊索丢不下那出众的俄底修斯(俄底修斯是荷马史诗《奥德赛》的主角,特洛亚战争中的英雄.他半生浪游在外,有许多奇险的经历,在特洛亚战争结束后的归途中曾漂到海上女神嘉利泊索的岛上,羁留了七年.).擦鞋的(葛.林乌德先生)拿着一木匣子的银杯子走过,口里叫着"留心盆儿罐儿呵!"演来又自然又幽默,博得满堂彩声,还有人丢了一束花给他.忽然听得马鞭子啪啪的响,旅馆主人.侍女.茶房,一股脑儿冲到门口.贵客刚要上台,幕下来了.后台经理在后面叫道:"第二个音节有了."
    禁卫军中的葛立格上尉说道:"我看谜底是'旅馆,吧?"大家听得他说出这么聪明的话,都笑起来,他猜得的确离答案不远.
    里面准备第三幕的时候,乐队奏的是许多水手歌曲综合成的杂拌儿,包括《英伦海峡中的航路》.《刺人的北风,歇歇吧》.《不列颠,统治吧》.《啊,在贝斯开湾》等等.由此知道戏里准有关于航海的情节.开幕的时候听得里面打铃.一个声音叫着:"先生们,靠岸啦!"旅客们互相告别.他们似乎很焦急,对着天边的云(实在是一块深颜色的布幔)指指点点,一面提心吊胆的点着头.斯基姆士夫人(莎吴塞唐勋爵)带着她的小狗和丈夫一起坐下来,旁边搁着她的手提包和一个个口袋.她伸出手来紧紧拉着身旁的绳索.这显然是一只船.
    船长(克劳莱上校)戴着三角帽子,拿着望远镜走出台来.他一手按着帽子,对着天边了望.他的衣服飘飘荡荡,仿佛那时正在刮风.他松了手去用望远镜,帽子登时给风吹掉,台下的看客大声叫好.风越来越大.音乐也越奏越响,像风的呼啸.水手们走过戏台的时候东倒西歪,似乎船身动荡得非常厉害.船上的总管(葛.林乌德先生)趔趄着脚,捧了六七个盆儿走出来.他很快的搁了一个在斯基姆士勋爵身旁.斯基姆士夫人把小狗捏了一把,捏得它呜呜的哀叫.她用手帕掩着脸,急急忙忙的跑出去,大概到船舱里去了.这时音乐急促强劲到极点,真像在刮大风下大雨.第三个音节也算有了.
    当时法国有一支巴蕾舞名叫夜莺,蒙戴需(蒙戴需(Ｐａｕｌｉｎｅ　Ｍｏｎｔｅｓｓｕ,１８０５—７７),法国跳舞家.)和诺勃莱在剧中演出的时候非常出风头.滑葛先生善于写诗,就着剧中悦耳动听的曲调配上自己的诗歌,把它改成一出歌剧,搬上了英国的舞台.戏里的角色全穿上法国古装.莎吴塞唐勋爵这一回演一个老婆子,拄着一根弯弯的拐棍,扮得维妙维肖,在台上一瘸一点的走.
    台后有人在颤声唱歌.台上一所用硬纸板做成的小屋子,上面搭着花棚,长满了玫瑰花,装饰得非常美丽,歌声就从屋后发出来.老太婆叫道:"斐洛梅儿,斐洛梅儿!"斐洛梅儿应声而出.
    下面又喝彩,原来出台的是罗登.克劳莱太太.她头发里洒了粉,脸上贴着美人斑,这样令人销魂的侯爵夫人真是天下少有.
    她笑吟吟的哼着歌儿,一面跳跳蹦蹦,活是戏台上传统的小姑娘.她行了个礼.妈妈说:"孩子,你干吗老是又唱又笑的?"她一面走,一面唱......
    月台上的玫瑰
    月台上的玫瑰一清早香气芬芳,
    她一冬想念春天,把叶子掉光,
    你问我为何她如今又红又香,
    无非是太阳出了,鸟儿在歌唱.
    请听树林里婉转歌唱的夜莺,
    到冷风吹落树叶,他也噤了声,
    妈妈,你知道他如今为何高兴?
    无非是太阳出了,树叶颜色新.
    盛开的玫瑰把脸儿染得红喷喷,
    鸟儿开了口,大家各尽本分,
    我心中阳光普照,我鼓舞欢欣,
    因此我歌唱,我脸上起了红晕.
    
    那个做妈妈的看上去是个和气不过的人,她留着两大把连鬓胡子,帽子遮不了,从帽边下露出来.她的女儿每唱完一段,她就去摩弄她,把那天真烂漫的小姑娘搂在怀里,引得台底下表同情的观众大声哄笑起来.结尾的时候乐队奏着一支交响乐,仿佛成千累万的鸟儿一起在唱,全场一致欢呼"再来一个!"大家尽情的鼓掌叫好,花球像雨点一般落到当晚的夜莺身上.喝彩喝得最响的是斯丹恩勋爵.蓓基,那夜莺,接住他抛过来的花朵儿,紧紧搂在胸口,那样子活像是个小丑.斯丹恩侯爵高兴得如醉如狂,他的客人也一样兴奋.第一出戏里颠倒众生的黑眼睛美女到哪里去了?蓓基的模样远不如她,可是光芒万丈,把她压倒.所有的人齐声夸赞蓓基,把她跟斯蒂芬士(斯蒂芬士(Ｃａｔｈｅｒｉｎｅ　Ｓｔｅｐｈｅｎｓ,１７９２—１８８４),英国的歌唱家,又是名演员.).加拉陶里(加拉陶里(Ｃａｒａｄｏｒｉ－Ａｌｌａｎ,１８００—６５),意大利女歌唱家.).龙齐.特.贝尼(贝尼(Ｒｏｎｚｉ　ｄｅ　Ｂｅｇｎｉｓ,１７９３—１８４９),意大利女歌唱家.)相比,说是如果她上台演戏的话,准会把所有的女戏子比下去.看来这话很有些道理.她已经登峰造极,暴风雨一样的掌声和彩声压不下她颤抖嘹亮的歌声.她的声音洋溢着喜气,越唱越高......正像她的地位一样越升越高.戏做完之后,接下去便是跳舞会.蓓基是当夜最出风头的人,大家都围着邀她跳舞.前面说起的那位皇室贵胄赌咒说她的一切全是尽善尽美,再三找她说话.蓓基脸上这样光彩,眼见金钱.名誉.地位指日可以到手,心里说不尽的得意.斯丹恩勋爵对她十分倾倒,到东到西跟着她,除了她以外差不多不和别的人说话,而且满口恭维,当众向她献殷勤.她穿着侯爵夫人的戏装,和特.拉.夏伯蒂哀公爵的参赞特.脱吕菲尼先生跳了一支宫廷舞.公爵对于从前宫廷里的传统非常熟悉,极口称赞克劳莱太太配得上做维丝德丽(维丝德丽(Ｌｕｃｉａ　Ｅｌｉｚａｂｅｔｈ　Ｖｅｓｔｒｉｓ,１７９７—１８５６),当时最有名的女低音.)的学生,甚至于有资格在凡尔赛宫里出入.他大人那时正在害痛风,一方面顾全自己的尊严,一方面切记着自己的责任,忍住了没有和她一起跳舞,心里可觉得这是很了不起的自我牺牲.他当着众人说,有了罗登.克劳莱太太那样的谈吐和舞艺,无论在欧洲哪一个宫廷里面都够得上大使夫人的格.他听说克劳莱太太有一半法国血统,才觉得心平气和,说道:"这种庄严的跳舞,只有我们法国人跳起来才有这么优美的姿态."
    然后蓓基又和彼得窝拉亭大公的表弟,又是他的参赞克林根斯博先生跳华尔兹舞.大公本人也是兴高采烈,他究竟比不上和他同行的那位法国外交家,没有多大涵养功夫,再三要和那可爱的太太跳一场,拉着她在舞池里的溜溜的打转,把自己靴子流苏上和制服上饰着的金刚钻洒了一地,直跳得上气不接下气才罢.巴布希.巴夏本来也想和她一同跳舞,可惜这玩意儿在他们本国是没有的.所有的人站成一圈,把她围在中间,发狂似的拍手叫好,竟好像她就是诺白莱或是泰格里昂尼(泰格里昂尼(Ｍａｒｉａ　Ｓｏｐｈｉａ　Ｔａｇｌｉｏｎｉ,１８０４—８４),意大利巴蕾舞家.).人人都高兴得出神忘形,蓓基本人不消说更是欣欣得意.她走过斯登宁顿夫人身旁,满脸不屑的瞟了一眼.她对着岗脱夫人和她的小婶子态度非常傲慢,乔治.岗脱的太太没想到她有这一手,气得了不得.所有年轻貌美的太太小姐竟没有一个比得上她.温克窝斯太太在刚开始演戏的时候倒有人捧场,因为大家赞赏她的长头发和大眼睛,可怜她哪里赛得过蓓基,简直没有风头可出.就是她气得把长头发扯下来也没人理,把大眼睛哭瞎了也没人疼.
    蓓基最得意的还是吃晚饭的时候.她给派在贵客一席,和前面说过的亲王大人同坐,其余同桌的也是大名鼎鼎的权贵.她使的是金杯金盏.如果她要把珍珠化在香槟酒里也办得到,简直和克里奥佩特拉女王(克里奥佩特拉(Ｃｌｅｏｐａｔｒａ),公元前一世纪埃及托洛密王朝的女王,罗马帝国后三头执政官马克.安东尼和她相好的时候,她曾经把珍珠耳环溶在酒里,干杯替他上寿.)不相上下.彼得窝拉亭的大公只要能够得到美人青睐,情愿把缝在衣服上的金刚钻送一半给她.夏伯蒂哀写给政府的信中也提到她.其余别桌的太太们只能用银碗银盏,眼看着斯丹恩勋爵不时向她献殷勤,都赌咒罚誓说他给蓓基迷昏了头,行出事来不成体统,对于有地位的夫人们是个极大的侮辱.如果尖酸的口角可以杀人,斯登宁顿夫人准会当场叫蓓基送命.
    罗登.克劳莱看着妻子风头这样健,心里惶恐,觉得她和自己越离越远.他一想到老婆本领高强,比自己不知厉害多少,心里有一种类似痛苦的感觉.
    蓓基回家的时候,一大群年轻小伙子簇拥着她一直送到马车里.府里的规矩,凡是有客回家,外面的听差就大声传马车,门外接应送客的人也跟着吆喝.这些人站在岗脱大厦的大门外面,每逢有客出来,就凑上去道喜,希望勋爵们在这次大宴会上快乐.
    听差们吆喝了一阵,罗登.克劳莱太太的马车轰隆隆的走进灯火通明的院子,一直来到门口有遮盖的跑道上.罗登扶着太太进了马车,眼看马车先走,因为威纳姆早已约好和他步行回家.他们两个一面走,威纳姆一面递给他一支雪茄烟.
    外面有的是举火送客的佣人,罗登和威纳姆就在他们灯上点了雪茄,一起步行回家.这时有两个人从人丛里走出来跟在他们后面.大概在岗脱广场走了百来步光景,两人中的一个走上前来碰碰罗登的肩膀,说:"对不起,上校,有话跟您说."这时另外一人呼哨了一声,岗脱大厦附近停着的街车之中就来了一辆,那助手赶快跑到克劳莱上校面前站好.
    勇敢的军官立刻知道自己落在地保手里.他托的往后一退,刚好撞上了在先碰他的那个人.
    后面的一个说:"我们一起有三个人,要跑也跑不了的."
    上校似乎认识说话的人,说道:"莫斯,是你吗?我一共该人家多少?"
    莫斯先生是密特尔撒克斯郡州官的助手,一向在强色瑞街可息多巷内办公,他轻轻答道:"小意思,就是那登先生的一百六十镑六先令八便士."
    可怜的罗登说:"威纳姆,看老天面上,借我一百镑吧.我自己家里有七十镑."
    可怜的威纳姆说:"我所有的财产加起来不满十镑.再见吧."
    罗登垂头丧气的答道:"再见."威纳姆自管自回家.罗登.克劳莱的车子经过法学院大门的时候,他刚把雪茄抽完.

CHAPTER LII
In Which Lord Steyne Shows Himself in a Most Amiable Light
When Lord Steyne was benevolently disposed, he did nothing by halves, and his kindness towards the Crawley family did the greatest honour to his benevolent discrimination. His lordship extended his good-will to little Rawdon: he pointed out to the boy's parents the necessity of sending him to a public school, that he was of an age now when emulation, the first principles of the Latin language, pugilistic exercises, and the society of his fellow-boys would be of the greatest benefit to the boy. His father objected that he was not rich enough to send the child to a good public school; his mother that Briggs was a capital mistress for him, and had brought him on (as indeed was the fact) famously in English, the Latin rudiments, and in general learning: but all these objections disappeared before the generous perseverance of the Marquis of Steyne. His lordship was one of the governors of that famous old collegiate institution called the Whitefriars. It had been a Cistercian Convent in old days, when the Smithfield, which is contiguous to it, was a tournament ground. Obstinate heretics used to be brought thither convenient for burning hard by. Henry VIII, the Defender of the Faith, seized upon the monastery and its possessions and hanged and tortured some of the monks who could not accommodate themselves to the pace of his reform. Finally, a great merchant bought the house and land adjoining, in which, and with the help of other wealthy endowments of land and money, he established a famous foundation hospital for old men and children. An extern school grew round the old almost monastic foundation, which subsists still with its middle-age costume and usages--and all Cistercians pray that it may long flourish.
Of this famous house, some of the greatest noblemen, prelates, and dignitaries in England are governors: and as the boys are very comfortably lodged, fed, and educated, and subsequently inducted to good scholarships at the University and livings in the Church, many little gentlemen are devoted to the ecclesiastical profession from their tenderest years, and there is considerable emulation to procure nominations for the foundation. It was originally intended for the sons of poor and deserving clerics and laics, but many of the noble governors of the Institution, with an enlarged and rather capricious benevolence, selected all sorts of objects for their bounty. To get an education for nothing, and a future livelihood and profession assured, was so excellent a scheme that some of the richest people did not disdain it; and not only great men's relations, but great men themselves, sent their sons to profit by the chance--Right Rev. prelates sent their own kinsmen or the sons of their clergy, while, on the other hand, some great noblemen did not disdain to patronize the children of their confidential servants--so that a lad entering this establishment had every variety of youthful society wherewith to mingle.
Rawdon Crawley, though the only book which he studied was the Racing Calendar, and though his chief recollections of polite learning were connected with the floggings which he received at Eton in his early youth, had that decent and honest reverence for classical learning which all English gentlemen feel, and was glad to think that his son was to have a provision for life, perhaps, and a certain opportunity of becoming a scholar. And although his boy was his chief solace and companion, and endeared to him by a thousand small ties, about which he did not care to speak to his wife, who had all along shown the utmost indifference to their son, yet Rawdon agreed at once to part with him and to give up his own greatest comfort and benefit for the sake of the welfare of the little lad. He did not know how fond he was of the child until it became necessary to let him go away. When he was gone, he felt more sad and downcast than he cared to own--far sadder than the boy himself, who was happy enough to enter a new career and find companions of his own age. Becky burst out laughing once or twice when the Colonel, in his clumsy, incoherent way, tried to express his sentimental sorrows at the boy's departure. The poor fellow felt that his dearest pleasure and closest friend was taken from him. He looked often and wistfully at the little vacant bed in his dressing-room, where the child used to sleep. He missed him sadly of mornings and tried in vain to walk in the park without him. He did not know how solitary he was until little Rawdon was gone. He liked the people who were fond of him, and would go and sit for long hours with his good-natured sister Lady Jane, and talk to her about the virtues, and good looks, and hundred good qualities of the child.
Young Rawdon's aunt, we have said, was very fond of him, as was her little girl, who wept copiously when the time for her cousin's departure came. The elder Rawdon was thankful for the fondness of mother and daughter. The very best and honestest feelings of the man came out in these artless outpourings of paternal feeling in which he indulged in their presence, and encouraged by their sympathy. He secured not only Lady Jane's kindness, but her sincere regard, by the feelings which he manifested, and which he could not show to his own wife. The two kinswomen met as seldom as possible. Becky laughed bitterly at Jane's feelings and softness; the other's kindly and gentle nature could not but revolt at her sister's callous behaviour.
It estranged Rawdon from his wife more than he knew or acknowledged to himself. She did not care for the estrangement. Indeed, she did not miss him or anybody. She looked upon him as her errand-man and humble slave. He might be ever so depressed or sulky, and she did not mark his demeanour, or only treated it with a sneer. She was busy thinking about her position, or her pleasures, or her advancement in society; she ought to have held a great place in it, that is certain.
It was honest Briggs who made up the little kit for the boy which he was to take to school. Molly, the housemaid, blubbered in the passage when he went away--Molly kind and faithful in spite of a long arrear of unpaid wages. Mrs. Becky could not let her husband have the carriage to take the boy to school. Take the horses into the City!--such a thing was never heard of. Let a cab be brought. She did not offer to kiss him when he went, nor did the child propose to embrace her; but gave a kiss to old Briggs (whom, in general, he was very shy of caressing), and consoled her by pointing out that he was to come home on Saturdays, when she would have the benefit of seeing him. As the cab rolled towards the City, Becky's carriage rattled off to the park. She was chattering and laughing with a score of young dandies by the Serpentine as the father and son entered at the old gates of the school--where Rawdon left the child and came away with a sadder purer feeling in his heart than perhaps that poor battered fellow had ever known since he himself came out of the nursery.
He walked all the way home very dismally, and dined alone with Briggs. He was very kind to her and grateful for her love and watchfulness over the boy. His conscience smote him that he had borrowed Briggs's money and aided in deceiving her. They talked about little Rawdon a long time, for Becky only came home to dress and go out to dinner--and then he went off uneasily to drink tea with Lady Jane, and tell her of what had happened, and how little Rawdon went off like a trump, and how he was to wear a gown and little knee-breeches, and how young Blackball, Jack Blackball's son, of the old regiment, had taken him in charge and promised to be kind to him.
In the course of a week, young Blackball had constituted little Rawdon his fag, shoe-black, and breakfast toaster; initiated him into the mysteries of the Latin Grammar; and thrashed him three or four times, but not severely. The little chap's good-natured honest face won his way for him. He only got that degree of beating which was, no doubt, good for him; and as for blacking shoes, toasting bread, and fagging in general, were these offices not deemed to be necessary parts of every young English gentleman's education?
Our business does not lie with the second generation and Master Rawdon's life at school, otherwise the present tale might be carried to any indefinite length. The Colonel went to see his son a short time afterwards and found the lad sufficiently well and happy, grinning and laughing in his little black gown and little breeches.
His father sagaciously tipped Blackball, his master, a sovereign, and secured that young gentleman's good-will towards his fag. As a protege of the great Lord Steyne, the nephew of a County member, and son of a Colonel and C.B., whose name appeared in some of the most fashionable parties in the Morning Post, perhaps the school authorities were disposed not to look unkindly on the child. He had plenty of pocket-money, which he spent in treating his comrades royally to raspberry tarts, and he was often allowed to come home on Saturdays to his father, who always made a jubilee of that day. When free, Rawdon would take him to the play, or send him thither with the footman; and on Sundays he went to church with Briggs and Lady Jane and his cousins. Rawdon marvelled over his stories about school, and fights, and fagging. Before long, he knew the names of all the masters and the principal boys as well as little Rawdon himself. He invited little Rawdon's crony from school, and made both the children sick with pastry, and oysters, and porter after the play. He tried to look knowing over the Latin grammar when little Rawdon showed him what part of that work he was "in." "Stick to it, my boy," he said to him with much gravity, "there's nothing like a good classical education! Nothing!"
Becky's contempt for her husband grew greater every day. "Do what you like--dine where you please--go and have ginger-beer and sawdust at Astley's, or psalm-singing with Lady Jane--only don't expect me to busy myself with the boy. I have your interests to attend to, as you can't attend to them yourself. I should like to know where you would have been now, and in what sort of a position in society, if I had not looked after you." Indeed, nobody wanted poor old Rawdon at the parties whither Becky used to go. She was often asked without him now. She talked about great people as if she had the fee-simple of May Fair, and when the Court went into mourning, she always wore black.
Little Rawdon being disposed of, Lord Steyne, who took such a parental interest in the affairs of this amiable poor family, thought that their expenses might be very advantageously curtailed by the departure of Miss Briggs, and that Becky was quite clever enough to take the management of her own house. It has been narrated in a former chapter how the benevolent nobleman had given his protegee money to pay off her little debt to Miss Briggs, who however still remained behind with her friends; whence my lord came to the painful conclusion that Mrs. Crawley had made some other use of the money confided to her than that for which her generous patron had given the loan. However, Lord Steyne was not so rude as to impart his suspicions upon this head to Mrs. Becky, whose feelings might be hurt by any controversy on the money-question, and who might have a thousand painful reasons for disposing otherwise of his lordship's generous loan. But he determined to satisfy himself of the real state of the case, and instituted the necessary inquiries in a most cautious and delicate manner.
In the first place he took an early opportunity of pumping Miss Briggs. That was not a difficult operation. A very little encouragement would set that worthy woman to talk volubly and pour out all within her. And one day when Mrs. Rawdon had gone out to drive (as Mr. Fiche, his lordship's confidential servant, easily learned at the livery stables where the Crawleys kept their carriage and horses, or rather, where the livery-man kept a carriage and horses for Mr. and Mrs. Crawley)--my lord dropped in upon the Curzon Street house--asked Briggs for a cup of coffee--told her that he had good accounts of the little boy at school--and in five minutes found out from her that Mrs. Rawdon had given her nothing except a black silk gown, for which Miss Briggs was immensely grateful.
He laughed within himself at this artless story. For the truth is, our dear friend Rebecca had given him a most circumstantial narration of Briggs's delight at receiving her money--eleven hundred and twenty-five pounds--and in what securities she had invested it; and what a pang Becky herself felt in being obliged to pay away such a delightful sum of money. "Who knows," the dear woman may have thought within herself, "perhaps he may give me a little more?" My lord, however, made no such proposal to the little schemer--very likely thinking that he had been sufficiently generous already.
He had the curiosity, then, to ask Miss Briggs about the state of her private affairs--and she told his lordship candidly what her position was--how Miss Crawley had left her a legacy--how her relatives had had part of it--how Colonel Crawley had put out another portion, for which she had the best security and interest-- and how Mr. and Mrs. Rawdon had kindly busied themselves with Sir Pitt, who was to dispose of the remainder most advantageously for her, when he had time. My lord asked how much the Colonel had already invested for her, and Miss Briggs at once and truly told him that the sum was six hundred and odd pounds.
But as soon as she had told her story, the voluble Briggs repented of her frankness and besought my lord not to tell Mr. Crawley of the confessions which she had made. "The Colonel was so kind--Mr. Crawley might be offended and pay back the money, for which she could get no such good interest anywhere else." Lord Steyne, laughing, promised he never would divulge their conversation, and when he and Miss Briggs parted he laughed still more.
"What an accomplished little devil it is!" thought he. "What a splendid actress and manager! She had almost got a second supply out of me the other day; with her coaxing ways. She beats all the women I have ever seen in the course of all my well-spent life. They are babies compared to her. I am a greenhorn myself, and a fool in her hands--an old fool. She is unsurpassable in lies." His lordship's admiration for Becky rose immeasurably at this proof of her cleverness. Getting the money was nothing--but getting double the sum she wanted, and paying nobody--it was a magnificent stroke. And Crawley, my lord thought--Crawley is not such a fool as he looks and seems. He has managed the matter cleverly enough on his side. Nobody would ever have supposed from his face and demeanour that he knew anything about this money business; and yet he put her up to it, and has spent the money, no doubt. In this opinion my lord, we know, was mistaken, but it influenced a good deal his behaviour towards Colonel Crawley, whom he began to treat with even less than that semblance of respect which he had formerly shown towards that gentleman. It never entered into the head of Mrs. Crawley's patron that the little lady might be making a purse for herself; and, perhaps, if the truth must be told, he judged of Colonel Crawley by his experience of other husbands, whom he had known in the course of the long and well-spent life which had made him acquainted with a great deal of the weakness of mankind. My lord had bought so many men during his life that he was surely to be pardoned for supposing that he had found the price of this one.
He taxed Becky upon the point on the very first occasion when he met her alone, and he complimented her, good-humouredly, on her cleverness in getting more than the money which she required. Becky was only a little taken aback. It was not the habit of this dear creature to tell falsehoods, except when necessity compelled, but in these great emergencies it was her practice to lie very freely; and in an instant she was ready with another neat plausible circumstantial story which she administered to her patron. The previous statement which she had made to him was a falsehood--a wicked falsehood--she owned it. But who had made her tell it? "Ah, my Lord," she said, "you don't know all I have to suffer and bear in silence; you see me gay and happy before you--you little know what I have to endure when there is no protector near me. It was my husband, by threats and the most savage treatment, forced me to ask for that sum about which I deceived you. It was he who, foreseeing that questions might be asked regarding the disposal of the money, forced me to account for it as I did. He took the money. He told me he had paid Miss Briggs; I did not want, I did not dare to doubt him. Pardon the wrong which a desperate man is forced to commit, and pity a miserable, miserable woman." She burst into tears as she spoke. Persecuted virtue never looked more bewitchingly wretched.
They had a long conversation, driving round and round the Regent's Park in Mrs. Crawley's carriage together, a conversation of which it is not necessary to repeat the details, but the upshot of it was that, when Becky came home, she flew to her dear Briggs with a smiling face and announced that she had some very good news for her. Lord Steyne had acted in the noblest and most generous manner. He was always thinking how and when he could do good. Now that little Rawdon was gone to school, a dear companion and friend was no longer necessary to her. She was grieved beyond measure to part with Briggs, but her means required that she should practise every retrenchment, and her sorrow was mitigated by the idea that her dear Briggs would be far better provided for by her generous patron than in her humble home. Mrs. Pilkington, the housekeeper at Gauntly Hall, was growing exceedingly old, feeble, and rheumatic: she was not equal to the work of superintending that vast mansion, and must be on the look out for a successor. It was a splendid position. The family did not go to Gauntly once in two years. At other times the housekeeper was the mistress of the magnificent mansion--had four covers daily for her table; was visited by the clergy and the most respectable people of the county--was the lady of Gauntly, in fact; and the two last housekeepers before Mrs. Pilkington had married rectors of Gauntly--but Mrs. P. could not, being the aunt of the present Rector. The place was not to be hers yet, but she might go down on a visit to Mrs. Pilkington and see whether she would like to succeed her.
What words can paint the ecstatic gratitude of Briggs! All she stipulated for was that little Rawdon should be allowed to come down and see her at the Hall. Becky promised this--anything. She ran up to her husband when he came home and told him the joyful news. Rawdon was glad, deuced glad; the weight was off his conscience about poor Briggs's money. She was provided for, at any rate, but-- but his mind was disquiet. He did not seem to be all right, somehow. He told little Southdown what Lord Steyne had done, and the young man eyed Crawley with an air which surprised the latter.
He told Lady Jane of this second proof of Steyne's bounty, and she, too, looked odd and alarmed; so did Sir Pitt. "She is too clever and--and gay to be allowed to go from party to party without a companion," both said. "You must go with her, Rawdon, wherever she goes, and you must have somebody with her--one of the girls from Queen's Crawley, perhaps, though they were rather giddy guardians for her."
Somebody Becky should have. But in the meantime it was clear that honest Briggs must not lose her chance of settlement for life, and so she and her bags were packed, and she set off on her journey. And so two of Rawdon's out-sentinels were in the hands of the enemy.
Sir Pitt went and expostulated with his sister-in-law upon the subject of the dismissal of Briggs and other matters of delicate family interest. In vain she pointed out to him how necessary was the protection of Lord Steyne for her poor husband; how cruel it would be on their part to deprive Briggs of the position offered to her. Cajolements, coaxings, smiles, tears could not satisfy Sir Pitt, and he had something very like a quarrel with his once admired Becky. He spoke of the honour of the family, the unsullied reputation of the Crawleys; expressed himself in indignant tones about her receiving those young Frenchmen--those wild young men of fashion, my Lord Steyne himself, whose carriage was always at her door, who passed hours daily in her company, and whose constant presence made the world talk about her. As the head of the house he implored her to be more prudent. Society was already speaking lightly of her. Lord Steyne, though a nobleman of the greatest station and talents, was a man whose attentions would compromise any woman; he besought, he implored, he commanded his sister-in-law to be watchful in her intercourse with that nobleman.
Becky promised anything and everything Pitt wanted; but Lord Steyne came to her house as often as ever, and Sir Pitt's anger increased. I wonder was Lady Jane angry or pleased that her husband at last found fault with his favourite Rebecca? Lord Steyne's visits continuing, his own ceased, and his wife was for refusing all further intercourse with that nobleman and declining the invitation to the charade-night which the marchioness sent to her; but Sir Pitt thought it was necessary to accept it, as his Royal Highness would be there.
Although he went to the party in question, Sir Pitt quitted it very early, and his wife, too, was very glad to come away. Becky hardly so much as spoke to him or noticed her sister-in-law. Pitt Crawley declared her behaviour was monstrously indecorous, reprobated in strong terms the habit of play-acting and fancy dressing as highly unbecoming a British female, and after the charades were over, took his brother Rawdon severely to task for appearing himself and allowing his wife to join in such improper exhibitions.
Rawdon said she should not join in any more such amusements--but indeed, and perhaps from hints from his elder brother and sister, he had already become a very watchful and exemplary domestic character. He left off his clubs and billiards. He never left home. He took Becky out to drive; he went laboriously with her to all her parties. Whenever my Lord Steyne called, he was sure to find the Colonel. And when Becky proposed to go out without her husband, or received invitations for herself, he peremptorily ordered her to refuse them: and there was that in the gentleman's manner which enforced obedience. Little Becky, to do her justice, was charmed with Rawdon's gallantry. If he was surly, she never was. Whether friends were present or absent, she had always a kind smile for him and was attentive to his pleasure and comfort. It was the early days of their marriage over again: the same good humour, prevenances, merriment, and artless confidence and regard. "How much pleasanter it is," she would say, "to have you by my side in the carriage than that foolish old Briggs! Let us always go on so, dear Rawdon. How nice it would be, and how happy we should always be, if we had but the money!" He fell asleep after dinner in his chair; he did not see the face opposite to him, haggard, weary, and terrible; it lighted up with fresh candid smiles when he woke. It kissed him gaily. He wondered that he had ever had suspicions. No, he never had suspicions; all those dumb doubts and surly misgivings which had been gathering on his mind were mere idle jealousies. She was fond of him; she always had been. As for her shining in society, it was no fault of hers; she was formed to shine there. Was there any woman who could talk, or sing, or do anything like her? If she would but like the boy! Rawdon thought. But the mother and son never could be brought together.
And it was while Rawdon's mind was agitated with these doubts and perplexities that the incident occurred which was mentioned in the last chapter, and the unfortunate Colonel found himself a prisoner away from home.

第 五 十 二 章    体贴入微的斯丹恩勋爵
    只要斯丹恩侯爵有意帮忙,他做事可真彻底.而且他眼光很清楚,行好事并不是不分好歹一视同仁;他对于克劳莱一家百般照顾的情形就是证明.勋爵主张好好的栽培小罗登,劝他的父母送他进公立学校.他说孩子长到这么大,应该上学校,一则能够培养竞争心,二则可以打下拉丁文的底子,三则有体育活动,四则有机会交朋友,对孩子的益处可大了.他的父亲回说他没有钱,上不起好的公立学校.他的母亲认为布立葛丝是个头等的女教师,在英文.初级拉丁文和一切普通学科上把小罗登教导得很有成绩(这话倒是真的),不必再进学校.可是斯丹恩侯爵慷慨大量,再三要送他上学,他的父母也没的说了.勋爵是一所有名学校的校董;这所学校历史悠久,名叫白袍僧学院.在从前,息斯德新派的修院就在这儿,旁边便是斯密士广场,当比武场用的.信奉异端邪说的人若是固执不化,就给带到此地活活烧死,因为这儿空地大,行刑时可以方便些.保卫正教的亨利第八(英国从亨利第八时脱离罗马教廷,改奉新教.)没收了修院的财产,凡是不肯听他命令立刻改奉新教的神父有的上绞台,有的受酷刑.后来一个有钱的大商人把那房屋和附带在旁的空地买下来,连上别的有钱人捐的地皮和现钱,建立了一所专为老人和儿童治病的慈善医院.这历史悠久而且几乎是修院性质的慈善机关慢慢的发展成一所走读学校,至今保留着中世纪的服饰和制度.所有息斯德新派的修士都祈祷上苍,保佑这学校永远兴盛.
    校董里面好几个是国内最有势力的贵族.主教和大官僚.学生吃得好,住得好,教育得好,将来在大学有丰足的津贴,大学毕业之后在教会里又有好差使,因此许多小不点儿的小爷已经定下终身职业,准备为教会服务.想在这儿读书的人着实不少,竞争得相当剧烈.这学校本来是为清寒子弟设立的;无论教会内外的人,凡是贫寒有为的,有资格送孩子入学.可是许多有体面的校董行好事的范围很广,而且没有一定的标准,由着自己的性儿把各等各样的孩子介绍进来.不花钱而能受到教育,将来还稳稳的有职业有收入,实在是个巧宗儿,连好些最有钱的人也不小看这种机会.不但大人物的亲戚,连大人物本人,也愿意叫家里的孩子来沾这个便宜.学生里面有大主教们的亲戚本家,有他们手下牧师的儿子,也有达官贵人的亲信佣人的孩子.进了这所学校,无论什么阶级,什么行档上的人都接触得到.
    罗登.克劳莱看的书只限于"赛马日程",关于学问文章,他只记得小时在伊顿学校挨打和这东西有密切的关系.话是这么说,他和所有的英国绅士一样识大体,真心诚意的尊敬古典文学.他想到儿子能够成为有学问的人,前途有了保障,或许一辈子不用再操心,不消说十分高兴.儿子是他最大的安慰,他们爷儿俩感情融洽,不管在什么小事情上都谈得投机.这些事他从来不和老婆说,因为蓓基一向不管儿子的事.罗登望子成人的心切,虽然舍不得,却马上答应送他上学,为了他,就是放弃自己最大的慰藉和乐趣也是愿意的.以前他不知道自己疼儿子疼到什么程度,现在送他出门,才辨出滋味来.他走了以后,罗登闷闷不乐,然而心里的烦恼又不愿意对人说.小罗登不比父亲,他到了一个新的环境,还有年龄相仿的同伴,倒很快乐.上校对老婆表示他舍不得儿子,心里难受,结结巴巴的话也说不完全,蓓基看他这么多情,有一两回忍不住笑起来.这可怜的家伙好像失去了最大的快乐,最亲近的朋友,时常对着梳洗间里的空床(小罗登的卧床)无精打采的发愣.每天早上他想念孩子,心里闷得慌,有时候打算一个人上公园散步,可是怎么也打不起精神来.小罗登离了家,他才知道自己一向失亲少友.凡是喜欢小罗登的人,他全愿意亲近,常常在他好心的嫂子家里一连坐几个钟头,叨叨的夸赞儿子心地忠厚,相貌出众,还有其他各色各样的好处.
    前面已经说过,小罗登的大娘和堂妹妹很喜欢他.小姑娘因为他要走了,伤心得眼泪鼻涕的痛哭.大罗登感激她们娘儿俩的好心,知道她们对自己表同情,放心大胆的倾吐他对于儿子的一片痴心,让他心里最真挚最敦厚的感情流露出来.因为这样,吉恩夫人不但愿意帮他的忙,而且真心看得起他.他这些衷肠话儿,对老婆是说不出的.妯娌两个尽量避免见面.蓓基刻毒的嘲笑吉恩又多情,又温柔.吉恩是个良善老实的好人,对于蓓基这种没有心肝的行为看不顺眼.
    因为孩子的关系,罗登夫妇之间的隔阂一天比一天深.这事实罗登不但不肯对自己承认,而且并不知道.蓓基反正不放在心上,说句实话,罗登也罢,别的人也罢,在她都不是少不了的.在她看来,罗登不过是跑腿的佣人,不值钱的奴才.不管他怎么心事重重,搭丧着脸儿,她根本不注意,最多不过冷冷的讽刺他几句.她忙着为自己筹划,一心只想寻欢作乐,抢地盘,一步步向高枝儿上爬.她应该在上流社会里占一个重要的位子,这是错不了的.
    老实的布立葛丝给孩子收拾了一只小箱子带到学校里去.女佣人莫莱送他出门,在过道里忍不住哭起来.莫莱是个好心肠,虽然工钱已经好多时候没有到手,她对主人家还是忠心耿耿.蓓基不让丈夫把家里的马车送孩子上学.她说她的马是不能到市中心去的,谁听见过这么荒谬的事!孩子上学只消雇一辆街车就行了.小罗登动身的时候,她没去吻他,罗登也不来和她拥抱,只吻了布立葛丝一下子(平常他很怕羞,难得跟她这么亲热).他安慰布立葛丝,叫她不必发愁,他每星期六回家,照常能够见面的.爷儿两个坐着街车向市中心走,蓓基自管自坐上家里的马车上公园兜风.爷儿两个踏进校门的当儿,她正忙着和二十来个花花公子在曲池旁边说笑.罗登送孩子进了学堂,自己回身出来.可怜这久经风霜的家伙凄凄惶惶,一心顾恋儿子,大概自从他懂事以来,还不曾有过这么纯洁的感情.
    他闷闷不乐的走到家里,和布立葛丝两人一起吃了饭.他想到布立葛丝很疼小罗登,凡事照顾得周到,心里非常感激,所以对她特别客气.他又想起自己借了布立葛丝的钱,并且帮着骗她,一时良心发现,老大不过意.他们两人谈了半天,说来说去,全是关于小罗登的事.蓓基回家换了衣服,又出去吃饭了.下午,他心上还是不痛快,又到吉恩夫人家里去喝茶,告诉她小罗登上学的经过;形容他怎么勇气百倍的离开家里;告诉她学校的制服是长袍子和灯笼裤.他从前部队里的同事贾克.勃拉克鲍尔的儿子也在那里,答应照顾小罗登.
    不到一个星期,小罗登已经成了勃拉克鲍尔的小打杂,替他擦皮鞋,烤面包.勃拉克鲍尔教给他拉丁文法里面的奥妙,而且揍了他三四回,不过揍得不算重.罗登的脸相老实,看上去脾气也好,因此到处有人缘.他虽然挨打,看来并不太厉害,对他倒是有益处的.至于给人擦皮鞋,烤面包,打杂,那更不算什么,大家早已公认这是英国公子哥儿们教育中不可缺少的一部分.
    写书的不管底下一代的事,罗登少爷的学校生活,我不多说了,要不然这本书永远写不完.不久之后,上校去探望儿子,看见他身体很好,也很快乐,穿着黑袍子和灯笼裤对着人笑.
    他的父亲很聪明,送给他的头领勃拉克鲍尔一个金镑,这位少爷收了这份礼,从此对于他的打杂另眼相看.孩子的保护人是权势赫赫的斯丹恩勋爵,他的伯父是国会议员,父亲是个上校,又有下级骑士的封号,《晨报》上描写最了不起的大宴会,也常常提到他的名字;由此种种,学校当局大概很看重他.他的零用钱很多,可以大手大脚的请朋友们吃杨梅饼.到星期六,他往往得到准许回家探望爸爸.做爸爸的到这一天就像过节似的,非得庆祝一番才罢.他有空的时候亲自带孩子上戏院看戏,要不然就叫听差带着他去.到星期日,孩子跟着布立葛丝.吉恩夫人和堂弟堂妹一起上教堂.他讲到学校里的情形,怎么打架,怎么给人当差,罗登听了赞叹个不完.不久,小罗登的老师叫什么名字,同学里面谁最有势力,他都知道得很清楚......跟儿子一样清楚.他又把儿子的心腹朋友请到家里来,看完戏以后给他们吃糕点.蛤蜊和麦酒,把两个孩子吃得害病.小罗登拿出拉丁文法书给他看,告诉他教到什么地方,他假装内行,郑重其事的说:"孩子,你得用功啊.古典文学对你益处可大了."
    蓓基一天比一天瞧不起丈夫.她说:"你爱干什么就干什么,你爱上哪儿吃饭就上哪儿吃饭.到亚斯脱莱马戏场里去喝姜汁啤酒吃木屑也行(马戏场的地下通常铺木屑,以免表演的人摔交受伤.马在场子奔跑的时候木屑飞扬,看客免不了呼吸到不干净的空气.),跟着吉恩夫人去唱圣诗也行,就是要我管孩子不能够.我还得为你操心打算呢,你呀,根本就没有本事自己打天下.如果没有我,你哪儿有今天的日子,今天的地位?你细想去吧!"说真的,蓓基到得去的宴会,可怜的罗登慢慢的没有份了.竟有不少人家单请太太不请先生.蓓基一开口就是某某勋爵某某大人,那口气竟好像她生来就是贵族.宫里有了丧事,她没有一回不穿孝.
    对于克劳莱一家子又可爱又可怜的穷人,斯丹恩勋爵像父亲一样的照顾.他安顿了小罗登之后,又想把布立葛丝打发出去,以便节省家里的开支.蓓基那么能干,还怕不会管家吗?前面已经说过,这位慈悲的大人物曾经帮过蓓基好些钱,让她和布立葛丝清账,不知为什么布立葛丝至今没有走.看来克劳莱太太把这笔款子用到别的地方去了,她那慷慨的恩人借钱给她就是叫她还债,这番意思她竟没有理会,想起来真气人.话虽这样说,斯丹恩勋爵是讲究礼貌的,并没有对蓓基提起他心里的疑团.一则恐怕为了银钱小事争论起来,惹得她心里不痛快,二则也许她别有苦衷,不得不把勋爵借给她的一大笔钱挪用一下.他决心把事情弄个水落石出,于是使出委婉的手段细心做了一番少不了的探访工作.
    第一步,他立刻找了一个机会去盘问布立葛丝小姐.这件事并不难,因为布立葛丝只要人家稍微助助她的兴,马上滔滔不绝把一肚子的话和盘托出.有一天,罗登的老婆出门去了(勋爵的亲信非希先生只要到马车行里去一问便知道,因为克劳莱家里的马和马车是由车行代管的,或者应该说车行里有几匹马和一辆车子是专为他家白效劳的)......罗登的老婆出门以后,勋爵假装偶然到克生街来玩儿,问布立葛丝要一杯咖啡喝,顺便告诉她说孩子在校里成绩很好.这样,不到五分钟的功夫,他就发现罗登太太只送给布立葛丝一件黑绸衫子,已经叫她感激涕零.
    他听了这些天真的话,心里暗笑.原来亲爱的蓓基曾经细细的讲给他听布立葛丝拿到了钱(一共是一千一百二十五镑),心里怎么高兴,后来怎么投资,她自己把这了不起的一大笔款子交给布立葛丝的时候又怎么心疼.亲爱的蓓基当时心里准在想:"谁知道,也许他还会再给我一点儿呢."勋爵大概觉得自己已经够慷慨了,并没有接口说再送钱给这个诡计多端的蓓基.
    他心里觉得好奇,接下去就去探问布立葛丝小姐的景况.她很直爽的把自己的处境讲给勋爵听:克劳莱小姐怎么传给她一笔遗产,她自己的亲戚怎么花她的钱,克劳莱上校怎么把余下的钱给她存出去收高利钱,另外有靠得住的抵押品,罗登夫妻俩又怎么为她在毕脱爵士跟前说好话,只等毕脱爵士有了空,就会把剩下的款子用最有利的方式给她安排妥当.勋爵问她克劳莱上校究竟替她存出去多少钱,布立葛丝立刻把实在的数目告诉他,一共是六百镑带些零头.
    多嘴的布立葛丝把话说完之后,立刻觉得懊悔,再三恳求勋爵别在克劳莱先生面前提起这件事."上校对我真好,可是没准他会生我的气,如果他把钱又还给我,叫我上哪儿去得这么高的利息呢?"勋爵笑着答应决不搬嘴.他和布立葛丝分手的时候,笑得更高兴.
    他想道:"这小鬼真有神通.装腔的本事又大,在经济上又会周转.那天她甜嘴蜜舌的差点儿又哄我拿出钱来.我这一辈子见过的女人不能算少,竟没有一个赶得上她;跟她一比,谁都成了奶娃娃.只怪我自己容易上当,像傻瓜一样给她牵着鼻子走,真是老糊涂.她那一套撒谎的本领比谁都厉害."勋爵赏识蓓基本领高强,对她更加佩服.会弄钱不希奇,可是除掉自己需要的一份之外又多到手一倍,临了欠的债仍旧一文不付,这手段真正高明.勋爵想道:"还有克劳莱,别看着他那样,他可并不傻.他那方面的工作也安排得够巧妙的.这件事无疑是他指使的,钱也是他花的.可是从他的外貌举止上看,谁也想不到他在里面插过手."我们知道,在这一点上勋爵猜得不对.他心上横着这成见,对于克劳莱上校的态度比以前更加倨傲,连面子也不大顾.克劳莱太太的靠山一点没有想到她自己在藏私房;原因是这样的,他活了大半辈子,见的世事很多,因此看破了人情,又因为他和许多做丈夫的打过交道,错把克劳莱上校也看作他们一流人物.这位勋爵一生不知收买过多少人,难怪他自以为有眼光,估准了上校的身价.
    第二回他和蓓基两个见面的时候,马上就盘问她这一点.他脾气很好,开口只恭维她办事能干,除了该还的债不算,另外得了一笔收入.蓓基小小的吃了一惊.我们这亲爱的朋友除非万不得已,从来不扯谎,不过在事势紧逼的时候,她也会滔滔不绝的编一篇话.一眨眼的功夫,她又想出一篇巧妙.合理.详尽的故事说给她靠山听.她承认从前说的全是谎话......混帐的谎话.可是谁逼她扯谎呢?"唉,勋爵,"她说,"你哪里知道我暗地里受多少的苦啊!在你面前,我又活泼又高兴,没人保护我的时候,我受的罪你再也想不到.我丈夫威胁我,虐待我,逼着我向你骗钱使.他知道你会问我要钱干什么,逼我对你扯谎.钱是他拿去的.他告诉我说布立葛丝的钱已经还清了,我不愿意对他起疑,根本不敢对他起疑.他是穷途末路,只好干这些不老实的勾当,只求你宽免他,也求你原谅我这不得出头的苦命人儿."她一面说,一面哭.真正受了欺压的贤慧女人也不能有她当时那样悲切动人的风神体态.
    他们两人在克劳莱家的自备马车里绕着亲王公园兜风,谈了半天.他们究竟谈些什么呢,这里不必细说,总而言之,蓓基回到家里,笑吟吟的赶上来搂着布立葛丝,说她有好消息报告.她说斯丹恩勋爵那份儿慷慨大量真是少有的,他老是想法子帮忙别人,从来不肯错过机会.如今小罗登进了学校,她自己也不需要亲爱的布立葛丝做伴儿了.她实在舍不得离开布立葛丝,心里说不出的难受,无奈她收入有限,必须在各方面紧缩开支.她的宽宏大量的恩人给布立葛丝找了一个好差使,比呆在她这样贫寒的家里做女伴强得多,因为这样,她心里也宽慰了一些.原来岗脱莱大厦的管家娘子毕尔金登太太现在上了年纪,身体衰弱,又害痛风,实在没有精力看管这么一个大公馆,要想找个接手的人.这是个了不起的好缺.侯爵家里的人难得上岗脱莱大厦,两年也不过去一回.主人不在的时候,管家娘子住着富丽堂皇的大房子独当一面,一餐吃四个菜,区里的牧师和有体面的人物都来拜访她,地位和岗脱莱真正的主妇不相上下.毕尔金登太太以前两任管家娘子全嫁了岗脱莱的牧师......毕尔金登太太不能嫁牧师,因为现任的牧师就是她的外甥.这件事眼前还没有定规,布立葛丝不妨先去拜访毕尔金登太太一次,看看愿意不愿意接她的手.
    布立葛丝乐得出神忘形,那感激涕零的样子,不是言语所能形容的.她提出来的唯一的条件就是要求让小罗登到那边去看她.蓓基一口答应......什么都答应.丈夫回家的时候,她跑上去迎接他,把好消息报告给他听.罗登听了很高兴......高兴得要命.他花了可怜的布立葛丝一笔钱,心里老是不安,现在才算一块石头落了地.不管怎么样,她总算有个着落,可是再一想呢,又有些不放心,总觉得这件事不妥当.他告诉莎吴塞唐子爵斯丹恩勋爵怎么提携他们的话,那位爷瞅了他一下,眼色老大蹊跷,叫他捉摸不着.
    他把斯丹恩勋爵第二回帮忙的事讲给吉恩夫人听.她听了神情慌张,有些变颜变色.毕脱爵士也是这样.他们两人都说:"她太聪明,呃......也太活泼,单身一个人出去赴宴会是不妥当的,总得要个人陪着.罗登,不管她上哪儿,你得跟她一块儿去.你非得给她找个伴儿不可.我看还是到女王的克劳莱去叫个妹妹上来吧,虽然她们自己也没有头脑,帮不了多少忙."
    蓓基应该有个女伴.不过事情很清楚,总不能让老实的布立葛丝错过了一辈子的好饭碗,因此她收拾好行李,上道去了.这样,罗登的两个步哨都落在敌人手里.
    毕脱爵士去看弟妇,提到关于辞退布立葛丝以及家里各种难以启齿的事情,着实劝谏了一番.她向他解释,说她可怜的丈夫没有斯丹恩勋爵提拔照顾是不行的,至于布立葛丝呢,有了这么好的差使,如果不许她去的话不是太没有心肠了吗?这些话全无效验,她哭也罢,笑也罢,甜言蜜语的讨好也罢,毕脱爵士只是不满意,结果他和他从前最佩服的蓓基很像吵了一次架.他谈到家门的体面和克劳莱家里洁白无瑕的名声.他气虎虎的责备她不该和那些年轻的法国男人来往,说他们全是花花公子,行为不检点.他又提到斯丹恩勋爵,说是他的马车老停在她门口,他本人每天陪着她好几个钟头,惹出许多飞短流长.他以家长的身分恳求蓓基行事小心谨慎,因为她外面的名声已经很不好听.斯丹恩勋爵纵然地位高,才识丰富,可是和他来往的女人名誉上少不得受到牵累.他再三恳求,甚而至于用命令的口气,叫他的弟妇往后步步留心,少和那位大佬打交道.
    毕脱的劝告,蓓基一股脑儿接受下来,可是斯丹恩勋爵还是照常在她家里.这一下,毕脱爵士生了大气,终究多嫌了他心爱的利蓓加.吉恩夫人究竟是喜是怒,我就不知道了.斯丹恩勋爵继续去拜访蓓基,毕脱爵士却绝迹不上她的门.毕脱的妻子很想从此和那位大人物断绝来往.她收到侯爵夫人请他们参加猜谜表演那一次宴会的请帖,竟打算写信回绝,可是毕脱爵士认为他们怎么也得到那儿露露脸,因为亲王大人也去的.
    毕脱爵士虽然到会,很早就告辞回家,他的太太也巴不得早走.蓓基没跟大伯说话,对于嫂嫂更是睬都不睬.毕脱.克劳莱说她行止轻浮得简直不成话说,又痛骂时下做戏化装的习气,说对于英国妇女是绝对不合适的.戏演完之后,他把兄弟结结实实的教训了一顿,责备他不该上台演戏,也不该让妻子在这么不成体统的场合之下抛头露面.
    罗登答应以后再也不许她参加这种表演.而且自从哥哥嫂子点醒了他以后,他一直留神,竟成了个模范的看家丈夫.他不上俱乐部,不打弹子,一步不离老婆.他陪着蓓基出去兜风,不辞劳苦的跟着她到所有的宴会上去.斯丹恩勋爵无论什么时候到他家拜访,总看得见他.他不准蓓基自由行动,如果收到单请她吃饭的帖子,斩钉截铁的命令她回信拒绝.他的老婆察言观色,不敢不服从他.说句公平话,她看见丈夫那么殷勤,倒是非常喜欢.丈夫的嘴脸尽管不好看,她从来不计较.不管在人前也好,夫妻俩相对也好,她总是和和软软,脸上挂着笑,把他伺候得十分周到,哄他高兴.她成天活泼泼兴冲冲,对丈夫殷勤体贴,全心全意信赖他尊敬他,像新婚的时候那样.她常说:"出门有你陪着真好,比那糊涂的布立葛丝强多了.亲爱的罗登,咱们俩永远这么过下去吧.可惜少两个子儿,要不多美啊,咱们再也不会有烦恼了."饭后,他靠在安乐椅里打瞌睡,没看见对面那张疲倦.憔悴.神色可怕的脸.他一醒过来,蓓基顿时眉眼开朗,脸上重新堆着坦白的笑,活泼泼的吻他.他自己也闹不清以前究竟对她犯过疑没有.他心想一定不会有那回事.那逐渐压在心上的说不出来的疑团,恼人的忧闷,全是自己吃飞醋.蓓基怎么会不出风头呢?像她那么又会说又会唱,件件出众的女人千万个里挑不出一个.罗登只怨她不疼儿子.不论他怎么努力,他们娘儿俩再也合不到一快儿.
    当下罗登正是疑神疑鬼,左右为难的时候,恰巧又发生了上面所说的意外之变.倒楣的上校干瞧着自己成了囚犯,回不了家了.
    

CHAPTER LIII

A Rescue and a Catastrophe
Friend Rawdon drove on then to Mr. Moss's mansion in Cursitor Street, and was duly inducted into that dismal place of hospitality. Morning was breaking over the cheerful house-tops of Chancery Lane as the rattling cab woke up the echoes there. A little pink-eyed Jew-boy, with a head as ruddy as the rising morn, let the party into the house, and Rawdon was welcomed to the ground-floor apartments by Mr. Moss, his travelling companion and host, who cheerfully asked him if he would like a glass of something warm after his drive.
The Colonel was not so depressed as some mortals would be, who, quitting a palace and a placens uxor, find themselves barred into a spunging-house; for, if the truth must be told, he had been a lodger at Mr. Moss's establishment once or twice before. We have not thought it necessary in the previous course of this narrative to mention these trivial little domestic incidents: but the reader may be assured that they can't unfrequently occur in the life of a man who lives on nothing a year.
Upon his first visit to Mr. Moss, the Colonel, then a bachelor, had been liberated by the generosity of his aunt; on the second mishap, little Becky, with the greatest spirit and kindness, had borrowed a sum of money from Lord Southdown and had coaxed her husband's creditor (who was her shawl, velvet-gown, lace pocket-handkerchief, trinket, and gim-crack purveyor, indeed) to take a portion of the sum claimed and Rawdon's promissory note for the remainder: so on both these occasions the capture and release had been conducted with the utmost gallantry on all sides, and Moss and the Colonel were therefore on the very best of terms.
"You'll find your old bed, Colonel, and everything comfortable," that gentleman said, "as I may honestly say. You may be pretty sure its kep aired, and by the best of company, too. It was slep in the night afore last by the Honorable Capting Famish, of the Fiftieth Dragoons, whose Mar took him out, after a fortnight, jest to punish him, she said. But, Law bless you, I promise you, he punished my champagne, and had a party ere every night--reglar tip-top swells, down from the clubs and the West End--Capting Ragg, the Honorable Deuceace, who lives in the Temple, and some fellers as knows a good glass of wine, I warrant you. I've got a Doctor of Diwinity upstairs, five gents in the coffee-room, and Mrs. Moss has a tably- dy-hoty at half-past five, and a little cards or music afterwards, when we shall be most happy to see you."
"I'll ring when I want anything," said Rawdon and went quietly to his bedroom. He was an old soldier, we have said, and not to be disturbed by any little shocks of fate. A weaker man would have sent off a letter to his wife on the instant of his capture. "But what is the use of disturbing her night's rest?" thought Rawdon. "She won't know whether I am in my room or not. It will be time enough to write to her when she has had her sleep out, and I have had mine. It's only a hundred-and-seventy, and the deuce is in it if we can't raise that." And so, thinking about little Rawdon (whom he would not have know that he was in such a queer place), the Colonel turned into the bed lately occupied by Captain Famish and fell asleep. It was ten o'clock when he woke up, and the ruddy- headed youth brought him, with conscious pride, a fine silver dressing-case, wherewith he might perform the operation of shaving. Indeed Mr. Moss's house, though somewhat dirty, was splendid throughout. There were dirty trays, and wine-coolers en permanence on the sideboard, huge dirty gilt cornices, with dingy yellow satin hangings to the barred windows which looked into Cursitor Street-- vast and dirty gilt picture frames surrounding pieces sporting and sacred, all of which works were by the greatest masters--and fetched the greatest prices, too, in the bill transactions, in the course of which they were sold and bought over and over again. The Colonel's breakfast was served to him in the same dingy and gorgeous plated ware. Miss Moss, a dark-eyed maid in curl-papers, appeared with the teapot, and, smiling, asked the Colonel how he had slep? And she brought him in the Morning Post, with the names of all the great people who had figured at Lord Steyne's entertainment the night before. It contained a brilliant account of the festivities and of the beautiful and accomplished Mrs. Rawdon Crawley's admirable personifications.
After a lively chat with this lady (who sat on the edge of the breakfast table in an easy attitude displaying the drapery of her stocking and an ex-white satin shoe, which was down at heel), Colonel Crawley called for pens and ink, and paper, and being asked how many sheets, chose one which was brought to him between Miss Moss's own finger and thumb. Many a sheet had that dark-eyed damsel brought in; many a poor fellow had scrawled and blotted hurried lines of entreaty and paced up and down that awful room until his messenger brought back the reply. Poor men always use messengers instead of the post. Who has not had their letters, with the wafers wet, and the announcement that a person is waiting in the hall?
Now on the score of his application, Rawdon had not many misgivings.
DEAR BECKY, (Rawdon wrote)
I HOPE YOU SLEPT WELL. Don't be FRIGHTENED if I don't bring you in your COFFY. Last night as I was coming home smoaking, I met with an ACCADENT. I was NABBED by Moss of Cursitor Street--from whose GILT AND SPLENDID PARLER I write this--the same that had me this time two years. Miss Moss brought in my tea--she is grown very FAT, and, as usual, had her STOCKENS DOWN AT HEAL.
It's Nathan's business--a hundred-and-fifty--with costs, hundred- and-seventy. Please send me my desk and some CLOTHS--I'm in pumps and a white tye (something like Miss M's stockings)--I've seventy in it. And as soon as you get this, Drive to Nathan's--offer him seventy-five down, and ASK HIM TO RENEW--say I'll take wine--we may as well have some dinner sherry; but not PICTURS, they're too dear.
If he won't stand it. Take my ticker and such of your things as you can SPARE, and send them to Balls--we must, of coarse, have the sum to-night. It won't do to let it stand over, as to-morrow's Sunday; the beds here are not very CLEAN, and there may be other things out against me--I'm glad it an't Rawdon's Saturday for coming home. God bless you.
Yours in haste, R. C. P.S. Make haste and come.
This letter, sealed with a wafer, was dispatched by one of the messengers who are always hanging about Mr. Moss's establishment, and Rawdon, having seen him depart, went out in the court-yard and smoked his cigar with a tolerably easy mind--in spite of the bars overhead--for Mr. Moss's court-yard is railed in like a cage, lest the gentlemen who are boarding with him should take a fancy to escape from his hospitality.
Three hours, he calculated, would be the utmost time required, before Becky should arrive and open his prison doors, and he passed these pretty cheerfully in smoking, in reading the paper, and in the coffee-room with an acquaintance, Captain Walker, who happened to be there, and with whom he cut for sixpences for some hours, with pretty equal luck on either side.
But the day passed away and no messenger returned--no Becky. Mr. Moss's tably-dy-hoty was served at the appointed hour of half-past five, when such of the gentlemen lodging in the house as could afford to pay for the banquet came and partook of it in the splendid front parlour before described, and with which Mr. Crawley's temporary lodging communicated, when Miss M. (Miss Hem, as her papa called her) appeared without the curl-papers of the morning, and Mrs. Hem did the honours of a prime boiled leg of mutton and turnips, of which the Colonel ate with a very faint appetite. Asked whether he would "stand" a bottle of champagne for the company, he consented, and the ladies drank to his 'ealth, and Mr. Moss, in the most polite manner, "looked towards him."
In the midst of this repast, however, the doorbell was heard--young Moss of the ruddy hair rose up with the keys and answered the summons, and coming back, told the Colonel that the messenger had returned with a bag, a desk and a letter, which he gave him. "No ceramony, Colonel, I beg," said Mrs. Moss with a wave of her hand, and he opened the letter rather tremulously. It was a beautiful letter, highly scented, on a pink paper, and with a light green seal.
MON PAUVRE CHER PETIT, (Mrs. Crawley wrote)
I could not sleep ONE WINK for thinking of what had become of my odious old monstre, and only got to rest in the morning after sending for Mr. Blench (for I was in a fever), who gave me a composing draught and left orders with Finette that I should be disturbed ON NO ACCOUNT. So that my poor old man's messenger, who had bien mauvaise mine Finette says, and sentoit le Genievre, remained in the hall for some hours waiting my bell. You may fancy my state when I read your poor dear old ill-spelt letter.
Ill as I was, I instantly called for the carriage, and as soon as I was dressed (though I couldn't drink a drop of chocolate--I assure you I couldn't without my monstre to bring it to me), I drove ventre a terre to Nathan's. I saw him--I wept--I cried--I fell at his odious knees. Nothing would mollify the horrid man. He would have all the money, he said, or keep my poor monstre in prison. I drove home with the intention of paying that triste visite chez mon oncle (when every trinket I have should be at your disposal though they would not fetch a hundred pounds, for some, you know, are with ce cher oncle already), and found Milor there with the Bulgarian old sheep-faced monster, who had come to compliment me upon last night's performances. Paddington came in, too, drawling and lisping and twiddling his hair; so did Champignac, and his chef--everybody with foison of compliments and pretty speeches--plaguing poor me, who longed to be rid of them, and was thinking every moment of the time of mon pauvre prisonnier.
When they were gone, I went down on my knees to Milor; told him we were going to pawn everything, and begged and prayed him to give me two hundred pounds. He pish'd and psha'd in a fury--told me not to be such a fool as to pawn--and said he would see whether he could lend me the money. At last he went away, promising that he would send it me in the morning: when I will bring it to my poor old monster with a kiss from his affectionate
BECKY
I am writing in bed. Oh I have such a headache and such a heartache!
When Rawdon read over this letter, he turned so red and looked so savage that the company at the table d'hote easily perceived that bad news had reached him. All his suspicions, which he had been trying to banish, returned upon him. She could not even go out and sell her trinkets to free him. She could laugh and talk about compliments paid to her, whilst he was in prison. Who had put him there? Wenham had walked with him. Was there.... He could hardly bear to think of what he suspected. Leaving the room hurriedly, he ran into his own--opened his desk, wrote two hurried lines, which he directed to Sir Pitt or Lady Crawley, and bade the messenger carry them at once to Gaunt Street, bidding him to take a cab, and promising him a guinea if he was back in an hour.
In the note he besought his dear brother and sister, for the sake of God, for the sake of his dear child and his honour, to come to him and relieve him from his difficulty. He was in prison, he wanted a hundred pounds to set him free--he entreated them to come to him.
He went back to the dining-room after dispatching his messenger and called for more wine. He laughed and talked with a strange boisterousness, as the people thought. Sometimes he laughed madly at his own fears and went on drinking for an hour, listening all the while for the carriage which was to bring his fate back.
At the expiration of that time, wheels were heard whirling up to the gate--the young janitor went out with his gate-keys. It was a lady whom he let in at the bailiff's door.
"Colonel Crawley," she said, trembling very much. He, with a knowing look, locked the outer door upon her--then unlocked and opened the inner one, and calling out, "Colonel, you're wanted," led her into the back parlour, which he occupied.
Rawdon came in from the dining-parlour where all those people were carousing, into his back room; a flare of coarse light following him into the apartment where the lady stood, still very nervous.
"It is I, Rawdon," she said in a timid voice, which she strove to render cheerful. "It is Jane." Rawdon was quite overcome by that kind voice and presence. He ran up to her--caught her in his arms-- gasped out some inarticulate words of thanks and fairly sobbed on her shoulder. She did not know the cause of his emotion.
The bills of Mr. Moss were quickly settled, perhaps to the disappointment of that gentleman, who had counted on having the Colonel as his guest over Sunday at least; and Jane, with beaming smiles and happiness in her eyes, carried away Rawdon from the bailiff's house, and they went homewards in the cab in which she had hastened to his release. "Pitt was gone to a parliamentary dinner," she said, "when Rawdon's note came, and so, dear Rawdon, I--I came myself"; and she put her kind hand in his. Perhaps it was well for Rawdon Crawley that Pitt was away at that dinner. Rawdon thanked his sister a hundred times, and with an ardour of gratitude which touched and almost alarmed that soft-hearted woman. "Oh," said he, in his rude, artless way, "you--you don't know how I'm changed since I've known you, and--and little Rawdy. I--I'd like to change somehow. You see I want--I want--to be--" He did not finish the sentence, but she could interpret it. And that night after he left her, and as she sat by her own little boy's bed, she prayed humbly for that poor way-worn sinner.
Rawdon left her and walked home rapidly. It was nine o'clock at night. He ran across the streets and the great squares of Vanity Fair, and at length came up breathless opposite his own house. He started back and fell against the railings, trembling as he looked up. The drawing-room windows were blazing with light. She had said that she was in bed and ill. He stood there for some time, the light from the rooms on his pale face.
He took out his door-key and let himself into the house. He could hear laughter in the upper rooms. He was in the ball-dress in which he had been captured the night before. He went silently up the stairs, leaning against the banisters at the stair-head. Nobody was stirring in the house besides--all the servants had been sent away. Rawdon heard laughter within--laughter and singing. Becky was singing a snatch of the song of the night before; a hoarse voice shouted "Brava! Brava!"--it was Lord Steyne's.
Rawdon opened the door and went in. A little table with a dinner was laid out--and wine and plate. Steyne was hanging over the sofa on which Becky sat. The wretched woman was in a brilliant full toilette, her arms and all her fingers sparkling with bracelets and rings, and the brilliants on her breast which Steyne had given her. He had her hand in his, and was bowing over it to kiss it, when Becky started up with a faint scream as she caught sight of Rawdon's white face. At the next instant she tried a smile, a horrid smile, as if to welcome her husband; and Steyne rose up, grinding his teeth, pale, and with fury in his looks.
He, too, attempted a laugh--and came forward holding out his hand. "What, come back! How d'ye do, Crawley?" he said, the nerves of his mouth twitching as he tried to grin at the intruder.
There was that in Rawdon's face which caused Becky to fling herself before him. "I am innocent, Rawdon," she said; "before God, I am innocent." She clung hold of his coat, of his hands; her own were all covered with serpents, and rings, and baubles. "I am innocent. Say I am innocent," she said to Lord Steyne.
He thought a trap had been laid for him, and was as furious with the wife as with the husband. "You innocent! Damn you," he screamed out. "You innocent! Why every trinket you have on your body is paid for by me. I have given you thousands of pounds, which this fellow has spent and for which he has sold you. Innocent, by --! You're as innocent as your mother, the ballet-girl, and your husband the bully. Don't think to frighten me as you have done others. Make way, sir, and let me pass"; and Lord Steyne seized up his hat, and, with flame in his eyes, and looking his enemy fiercely in the face, marched upon him, never for a moment doubting that the other would give way.
But Rawdon Crawley springing out, seized him by the neckcloth, until Steyne, almost strangled, writhed and bent under his arm. "You lie, you dog!" said Rawdon. "You lie, you coward and villain!" And he struck the Peer twice over the face with his open hand and flung him bleeding to the ground. It was all done before Rebecca could interpose. She stood there trembling before him. She admired her husband, strong, brave, and victorious.
"Come here," he said. She came up at once.
"Take off those things." She began, trembling, pulling the jewels from her arms, and the rings from her shaking fingers, and held them all in a heap, quivering and looking up at him. "Throw them down," he said, and she dropped them. He tore the diamond ornament out of her breast and flung it at Lord Steyne. It cut him on his bald forehead. Steyne wore the scar to his dying day.
"Come upstairs," Rawdon said to his wife. "Don't kill me, Rawdon," she said. He laughed savagely. "I want to see if that man lies about the money as he has about me. Has he given you any?"
"No," said Rebecca, "that is--"
"Give me your keys," Rawdon answered, and they went out together.
Rebecca gave him all the keys but one, and she was in hopes that he would not have remarked the absence of that. It belonged to the little desk which Amelia had given her in early days, and which she kept in a secret place. But Rawdon flung open boxes and wardrobes, throwing the multifarious trumpery of their contents here and there, and at last he found the desk. The woman was forced to open it. It contained papers, love-letters many years old--all sorts of small trinkets and woman's memoranda. And it contained a pocket-book with bank-notes. Some of these were dated ten years back, too, and one was quite a fresh one--a note for a thousand pounds which Lord Steyne had given her.
"Did he give you this?" Rawdon said.
"Yes," Rebecca answered.
"I'll send it to him to-day," Rawdon said (for day had dawned again, and many hours had passed in this search), "and I will pay Briggs, who was kind to the boy, and some of the debts. You will let me know where I shall send the rest to you. You might have spared me a hundred pounds, Becky, out of all this--I have always shared with you."
"I am innocent," said Becky. And he left her without another word.
What were her thoughts when he left her? She remained for hours after he was gone, the sunshine pouring into the room, and Rebecca sitting alone on the bed's edge. The drawers were all opened and their contents scattered about--dresses and feathers, scarfs and trinkets, a heap of tumbled vanities lying in a wreck. Her hair was falling over her shoulders; her gown was torn where Rawdon had wrenched the brilliants out of it. She heard him go downstairs a few minutes after he left her, and the door slamming and closing on him. She knew he would never come back. He was gone forever. Would he kill himself?--she thought--not until after he had met Lord Steyne. She thought of her long past life, and all the dismal incidents of it. Ah, how dreary it seemed, how miserable, lonely and profitless! Should she take laudanum, and end it, to have done with all hopes, schemes, debts, and triumphs? The French maid found her in this position--sitting in the midst of her miserable ruins with clasped hands and dry eyes. The woman was her accomplice and in Steyne's pay. "Mon Dieu, madame, what has happened?" she asked.
What had happened? Was she guilty or not? She said not, but who could tell what was truth which came from those lips, or if that corrupt heart was in this case pure?
All her lies and her schemes, an her selfishness and her wiles, all her wit and genius had come to this bankruptcy. The woman closed the curtains and, with some entreaty and show of kindness, persuaded her mistress to lie down on the bed. Then she went below and gathered up the trinkets which had been lying on the floor since Rebecca dropped them there at her husband's orders, and Lord Steyne went away.

第 五 十 三 章    一场营救引出一场大祸
    我们的朋友罗登坐了街车来到可息多街上莫斯先生的大房子里,正式给带进这阴森森的招待所.当下正是拂晓时分,辘辘的车声在空荡荡的强色莱街激起回响,所有的屋顶浴在朝阳里,沾着点儿喜气.开门的是个红眼的犹太孩子,一头头发红得像日出时的天空.这孩子把一行人让进屋子,罗登的旅伴又兼主人莫斯先生当下请他在楼下的房间里安顿了,又满面堆笑,问他说赶了一程路,要不要喝一盅暖暖身子.
    换了别的人,刚刚离开华丽的府邸,撇下可爱的妻子,立刻给关进拘留所,准会觉得灰心丧气,幸亏上校倒还看得开.说句老实话,他曾经在莫斯先生这里住过一两回.以前我觉得没有必要提到这些家常琐事,所以没对大家说.读者想一想,悬空过日子的人,这种遭遇自然不会少的.
    上校第一回拜访莫斯先生的时候还是单身,靠他姑妈一撒手就把他救了出来.第二回却全亏蓓基给他奔走.她魄力又大,待丈夫又体贴,一面向沙吴塞唐勋爵借了一笔款子,一面哄得丈夫的债主回心转意(丈夫是她的买办,凡是她的披肩.丝绒袍子.抽丝花手帕.零星首饰等等,全由他经手采办)......她哄得丈夫的债主回心转意,答应先收一部分现钱,其余的由罗登重新出了债票展期付款.因此虽有两次的入狱和释放,大家客客气气,莫斯和上校彼此很相得.
    莫斯先生说道:"上校,您还是睡本来的床铺.我可以老实说一句,床铺什么都安排得很舒服.床上的被褥是常常晒晾的,想来您也知道.因为来这儿住夜的人很不少,而且都是顶上等的先生.前天晚上第五十二骑兵联队里的法密希上尉还在那床上睡觉来着.他在这儿耽了两星期,他妈才来赎他出去.她说这样也算治他一下.唷,求老天爷保佑,我跟您说吧,我的香槟酒可给他灌掉不少啊.他每天请客,客人全是顶刮刮的阔佬,从什么俱乐部呀,伦敦西城呀,赶到这儿来的.拉哥上尉和住在法学院附近的杜西思先生都在这儿,另外几位也是识得好酒的爷们,这一点我可以担保.如今楼上住着一位神学教授,咖啡室里还有五位先生.到五点半,莫斯太太招待大家用饭,以后还奏音乐,玩纸牌,希望您来参加."
    "我要什么会打铃的,"罗登说罢,很镇静的走到卧房里去.我以前说过,他是上过阵仗的人,些些不如意事吓他不倒.换了一个没有能耐的,一进监牢少不得马上就写信给太太求救.罗登想道:"何苦害她一夜睡不稳?反正我不回家她也不得知道.等我歇一会儿再写不迟,也让她好好睡一觉.好在欠的数目不大,通共一百七十镑.连这些钱都弄不到手,那才见鬼呢!"上校心里惦记着小罗登,直怕儿子知道自己关在这么不体面的地方,一面上了法密希上尉新近睡过的床睡着了.他醒来的时候恰好十点钟.红头发的孩子欣欣得意的端着一只漂亮的银子梳妆匣儿进来,伺候他刮胡子.说实话,莫斯先生的屋子里虽然不干净,家具陈设可真是富丽堂皇.碗盏柜上搁着肮脏的盘子和冰酒的器皿.檐板特别大,虽然满是泥垢,却是描金的.底下挂着褪色的黄缎窗帘,窗上装了铁条,临窗便是可息多街.屋里还挂着许多图画,有的是圣像,有的是行乐图,配着又大又脏的金漆框子.这些全是名画家的杰作,在一次次转手时价钱抬得极高.上校吃早饭用的碗碟,也是使得黑煤污嘴的尊贵物儿.一时,莫斯小姐端着茶壶进来,这位黑眼睛的姑娘满头卷发纸,笑眯眯的问他睡的可香甜.她带进来一份《晨报》,上面列举了隔夜在斯丹恩侯爵府上作客的大人物,另外有篇报道文章描写宴会花絮,形容美丽多才的罗登.克劳莱太太演技怎么出众,说得天花乱坠.
    莫斯小姐随随便便的坐在饭桌子边上,底下的袜子和塌鞋跟的缎鞋......从前原是白颜色的......露在外面.克劳莱上校和这位姑娘畅快的谈了一会儿,就问她要纸笔墨水.莫斯姑娘端过文具,两个指头捻着一叠信纸,问他要多少,他就手抽了一张.黑眼姑娘常常当这差使,在这间屋子里,多少作孽的家伙写过字迹潦草.墨污斑斑的急信向外面人求救.他们在这可恨的屋子里踱来踱去,直到信差带了答复回来才罢.这些可怜东西喜欢专差送信,不肯把信札付邮.这类的信大家都收到过......信封上的封糊还没有干,送信的专差在过道里立等着要回音.
    罗登满以为自己所求不奢,心里并不着急.他的信上写道:
    亲爱的蓓基:......我希望你睡得好.如果我不给你送咖啡进来,你不要害怕.昨夜我一路回家,正在臭烟,于到衣外之变了.可息多街的莫斯把我捉了来,现在我正在他的金碧灰黄的客堂里写这封信.两年以前我住的也是这一间.莫斯小姐送茶给我喝.她很胖;她的袜子像平常一样,掉下来堆在鞋根上.
    这一回是那登的债,一共是一百五十镑,加上讼费,一共一百七十镑.请你把我的小书台送来,我有七十镑在里面.我还要几件衣服,因为我现在穿的是薄底跳无鞋,我的白领带脏得和莫斯小姐的袜子差不多.收信后你快到那登那儿去,先给他七十镑,请他再盐期,根他说我愿意再买他的酒,反正咱们要些雪利酒在吃饭的时候喝.图画太贵了,不必买.
    如果他不肯,你把我的表拿去,还有你不大用的首试,都押给包而士.当然今晚非要钱不可,不能再单各,因为明天是星期日,这里的床也不干净.我又怕别的人也找上我.幸而今天罗登不回家.愿天保佑你.
    罗.克匆匆上
    你快来吧......又及.
    
    这封信用封糊封了口,马上由专差送回去,反正莫斯先生屋子里总有几个信差等着听候使唤.罗登眼看着送信的去了,自己走到院子里去抽雪茄.他并不怎么心焦,虽然一抬头就看见墙顶上的铁栅栏.原来莫斯先生恐怕寄宿在他家里的先生们不愿意在他家里打扰,忽然逃走,所以在围墙上加了栅栏,整个院子便像一个笼子.
    罗登计算下来,最多不过三小时,蓓基便会来搭救他,所以心上舒泰,一面等待,一面抽抽烟,看看报.他有个熟人叫窝格上尉的,凑巧也在那里;两人在咖啡室里赌了几个钟头,赌注只有六便士,两边没有什么胜负.
    一天过去了,送信的没有回来,蓓基也影踪全无.莫斯先生的客饭到五点半开出来,就摆在前面描写的陈设华丽的前客厅里,通过去便是克劳莱上校暂时动用的房间.寄宿在莫斯家里的先生们只要是付得起钱的都来参加.莫斯姑娘(她爸爸叫她莫姑娘)去掉头上的卷发纸,也来了.莫太太尽主人之谊,请客人吃极好的煮羊腿和萝卜,克劳莱上校却没有胃口.大伙儿要求他开一瓶香槟请客,他答应了.莫斯太太母女俩喝酒替他上寿;莫斯先生毕恭毕敬注目看着他.
    大家正在吃喝,听得外面门铃响.红头发的莫斯小子拿着钥匙去应门.不久他回来告诉上校说送信的带了一张小书台,一只口袋和一封信回来了.说着,他把信交给上校.莫斯太太把手一挥,说道:"上校,您请不必客套,看信罢."这封信漂亮得很,粉红的信纸,淡绿的火漆,扑鼻的香水味儿.他战战兢兢的开了信封,克劳莱太太的信上说:
    我亲爱的小宝贝儿:......昨儿晚上整整一夜没有合眼,只惦记着我的丑巴怪.我一夜发烧,到早上请白兰却医生处方,喝了安神药水,才睡着一会儿.我告诉斐奈德说不管发生什么事都不准惊吵我,因此我可怜的老头儿派来的信差在过道里呆等了好几个钟头,等着我打铃.斐奈德说他脸相凶恶,一股子杜松子酒味.我看了你那封别字连篇的亲亲的宝贝信以后急成个什么样儿,你当然想像得出.
    我虽然身子不好,可是立刻就吩咐套车.我一滴巧克力茶都没喝,没有我的丑巴怪给我端茶,叫我怎么喝得下?我一穿好衣服就急急忙忙的坐了车子赶到那登那里.我找着了他,哭哭啼啼央求了半天,临了还向那可恶的家伙下跪.那混帐东西说什么也不肯让步.他说如果不能如数付清,就得叫我可怜的丑巴怪坐监牢.我一路回家的时候就想着,没奈何只好到亲爱的大叔那里去当东西啦.我的首饰当然一股脑儿拿出来,不过一起当不着一百镑,因为有些已经在他那儿,还没有赎回来呢.到了家里,我看见勋爵大人带了那个保加利亚的羊脸老怪物等着我.那怪物专诚来给我道贺,奉承我隔夜的表演精采.巴亭登也来了,一面抚弄头发,一面拉长声音刁嘴咬舌的说不清.还有香比涅克和他的厨子也来了.人人都说了一套恭维我的漂亮话,可怜我烦得要死,只希望他们快走,时时刻刻挂念着我可怜的囚犯.
    客人走了之后,我向勋爵下跪,告诉他说我打算把家中所有一切当掉还债,哀求他给我两百镑.他焦躁得不得了,啐呸呀呀的闹了一阵,叫我别糊涂,别当首饰,等他想想法子再说.他临走答应明早借钱给我.钱到手之后我马上就来看我那丑巴怪,同时还送他一吻.
    爱你的蓓基
    我躺在床上写信.因为我头痛如裂,快痛死了......又及.
    
    罗登一看这信,登时满面通红,脸上杀气腾腾,同席的猜着他准是得了坏消息.以前他努力屏退的猜疑这会儿一起涌上心头.她竟连卖掉首饰赎他出狱都不肯吗?丈夫关在牢里,她居然还能嘻嘻哈哈的谈到人家奉承她的话!究竟是谁把他关进拘留所的?威纳姆跟他一起散步来着.难道是......这底下的事就不堪设想了.他匆匆忙忙的离开饭厅,跑到卧房里打开书台,草草写了一张条子给毕脱爵士和克劳莱夫人,命令送信的立刻坐车再到岗脱街去,答应他如果在一小时以内赶回来的话,赏他一基尼.
    他在信上恳求亲爱的哥哥嫂子看上帝面上,看他亲爱的儿子分上,赶快来帮忙他解决困难,因为这事关系到他的体面.他目下关在拘留所里,非得要一百镑才能脱身.他哀求他们去救他.
    把信差打发掉之后,他回到饭间里重新叫了酒喝着.大家觉得他嘻天哈地,扯开嗓门嚷嚷,样子老大不自然.他疯疯傻傻的讥笑自己无中生有自吓自,连着喝了一个钟头的酒,一面机伶起耳朵,等着马车带消息回来决定他的命运.
    过了一小时,只听得车声辚辚,很快的在门前停下来.年轻的小门房拿着钥匙去开门,在地保进出的门口放进来一位太太.
    她浑身发抖,说:"克劳莱上校."管门的会意,锁上头门,开了二门,叫道:"上校,有客!"一面把她领到上校住的后客厅里去.
    当下大家在那间兼做客堂和饭厅的屋子里吃喝,罗登起身回到后面自己的卧房里,一道昏黄的灯光跟着他照进去.新来的太太惊魂未定,站在屋子中央.
    "罗登,是我......是吉恩."她的声音很羞缩,可是说话的时候竭力叫自己的口气显得轻松愉快.她的表情那么慈祥,声音那么和软,不由得罗登不感动.他跑过来一把抱住她,上气不接下气的向她道谢,连话也说不清楚,到后来老实不客气的伏在她肩膀上呜呜咽咽哭起来.她莫名其妙,不懂他为什么这样激动.
    她把莫斯先生的账目立刻结清.莫斯大约很失望,因为他算准上校至少也要过了星期日才走.吉恩乐得眼睛放光,欢天喜地的把罗登从地保家里接出去.她赶来搭救的时候匆匆忙忙雇了一辆街车,这时两人便乘原车回家.她说:"今天议员聚餐,信送来的时候毕脱不在家.所以呢,亲爱的罗登,我......我只好亲自来了."说着,她和蔼的握着罗登的手.说不定毕脱出去吃饭倒是罗登的造化.罗登向他嫂嫂谢了又谢,软心肠的吉恩夫人看他那样感激涕零,非但感动,简直有些心慌.他的口吻朴质真诚,说道:"唉,你......你不知道自从我认识你以后......自从有了小罗登以后,我变了多少.我......我也想痛改前非.我想......我想做个......"话虽然没有说完,意思是揣摩得出的.当晚两人别过,吉恩夫人坐在儿子小床旁边,低心下气的为那迷途的罪人祷告.
    罗登和嫂嫂分手之后,上劲步行回家.当下已经是晚上九点钟.他撒开腿奔跑起来,一路穿过名利场中的街道和广场,最后上气不接下气的在自己屋子对面停下来.他抬头一望,立刻托的向后倒退一步,抖索索的撞在栅栏上.客厅的窗口一片光亮.她不是说过她生病不能起床吗?他呆呆的站了几分钟,自己房子里射过来的灯光照着他苍白的脸.
    他拿出钥匙,自己开门进去,只听得楼上嘻嘻哈哈.他身上还是隔夜被捕时穿的晚礼服,悄没声儿的上了楼,在楼梯顶上靠着扶手站定.别间屋子里静荡荡的没有人声,所有的佣人全给打发出去了.罗登听得里面有人在笑,还夹了唱歌的声音.原来蓓基在昨夜唱过的曲子之中挑了一段正在唱,另外一个粗嗄的声音喝彩道:"好哇,好哇!"一听正是斯丹恩勋爵.
    罗登开门直入.一张小桌子上杯盘罗列,摆着晚饭,还有酒.蓓基坐在安乐椅上,斯丹恩勋爵弯腰向着她.该死的女人盛妆艳饰,胳膊上戴着镯子,手指上套着指环,亮晶晶的发光,胸口还有斯丹恩勋爵给她的金刚钻首饰.他拉着蓓基,低下头打算吻她的手.正在这当儿,蓓基忽然看见罗登苍白的脸,霍的跳起身来有气无力的叫了一声.她勉强装出笑容,表示欢迎丈夫回家,那笑脸煞是可怕.斯丹恩站起来,切牙切齿,铁青了面皮一脸杀气.
    他也想装笑,迎上来向罗登伸出手来说道:"怎么的,你回来了?你好啊,克劳莱?"他没奈何向那碍他道儿的罗登呲牙咧齿的笑了一笑,嘴角的肌肉一抽一牵的动.
    蓓基一看罗登脸色不对,立刻冲到他面前,说道:"我是清白的,罗登.我对天说实话,我是清白的."她拉住他的外衣,握住他的手,她自己的手上戴满了戒指手镯和各种饰物.她央求斯丹恩勋爵说:"我是清白的.请你告诉他我是清白的."
    斯丹恩勋爵以为这是他们做好的圈套,对于这对夫妻一样痛恨,分不出高下.他尖声叫道:"你清白!他妈的!你还清白吗?你身上每一件首饰都是我买的.我给了你好几千镑.这家伙把钱花了,等于把你卖了给我.清白,哼!你跟你那做舞女的妈妈一样清白,跟你那专充打手的丈夫一样清白!你惯会吓唬人,可别想吓的倒我.让开,让我走."斯丹恩勋爵眼内出火,一手抓起帽子,恶狠狠直瞪瞪的瞧着对头冤家,笔直的向他走过去,以为那边准会让步.
    不料罗登.克劳莱跳起身来一把拉住他的领带不放,差些儿把他掐死.斯丹恩疼得站不直,扭来曲去的直弯到他胳膊底下.罗登说:"你这狗头!你胡说!你胡说!你是个没胆子的混帐东西!"他揸开五指啪啪的在勋爵脸上打了两个嘴巴子,不顾他受伤流血,把他推倒在地.他出手迅速,蓓基来不及阻挡,只站在他面前索索地抖.她佩服她的丈夫,因为他又有胆气又有力气,敌人打不过他.
    他说:"过来."她立刻走过去.
    "把这些东西除下来."她一面哆嗦,一面从手臂上褪下镯子,从打战的手指上拉下指环.她把首饰并做一堆,捧在手里,望着他发抖.他说:"把首饰丢下地."她就把首饰丢下地.他把她胸口的金刚钻一把拉下来向斯丹恩扔过去.金刚钻划破了他的秃顶,头上的疤到死还留着.
    罗登对他老婆说:"上楼来."她说:"罗登,饶我一条命."他恶狠狠的笑着说:"他骂我的话全是胡说,究竟他有没有贴钱给你,等我看过便见分晓.他到底给你钱没有?"
    利蓓加说道:"没有.不过......"
    罗登说:"把钥匙给我."他们两人一起走出去.
    利蓓加把钥匙都交给他,只扣下一个;她希望罗登不会注意.这个钥匙是从前爱米丽亚给她的小书台上的,书台本身就给藏在一个秘密的地方.罗登用力打开箱子柜子,把里面许多花花泡泡的东西四面乱丢,最后发现了她的书台.那女的只得把书台也打开.里面有文件,多年以前的情书.各种的小首饰和女人用的记事本儿.还有一只皮夹子,藏着钞票;上面的日期标得明白,有些是十年前攒下的,有一张却是新近的,一共一千镑,是斯丹恩勋爵送她的礼.
    罗登说:"这是他给你的吗?"
    利蓓加答道:"是的."
    罗登道:"我今天就给他送回去."(他搜查了好几个钟头,天已破晓了.)"布立葛丝对孩子很厚道,我打算把钱还她.还有些别的债务也得清一清.剩下的给你,你愿意我把钱送到什么地方先通知一声.你有了那么些钱,竟连一百镑都不肯给我.我哪一回不是跟你共甘苦的?"
    蓓基道:"我是清白的."他一言不发,转过身就走.
    他们分手的时候利蓓加心头是什么滋味呢?罗登走掉之后,她一个人呆呆的坐在床沿上发了半天怔,直到阳光满屋还没有动弹.抽屉个个打开,里面的东西散了一地,衣服.羽毛.披肩.首饰,一切出风头的必需品乱糟糟堆成一堆,全糟蹋了.她闹得披头散发,衣服撕了一大块,就是罗登把钻石首饰从她身上拉下来的当儿扯破的.他走出屋子不久,她就听得他下楼出门,砰的一声把大门碰上.她知道他一去不返,从此和她决绝了.他想道:"他会自杀吗?看来跟斯丹恩勋爵决斗以前决不肯死."她回想过去半辈子的升沉,一件件全是不如意的事.唉,人生多么悲惨,多么凄凉,多么寂寞空虚!一念转着不如吞些鸦片结果了自己完事.以后再也不必使心用计,争胜要强,什么前程,什么债务,全都丢开手吧.她的法国女佣人进来的时候就见她这样呆坐着,两手紧紧攥在一起,眼睛里没有一滴眼泪,四面散满了乱七八糟的衣服什物.这法国女人是她的心腹,早给斯丹恩买通了的.她说:"天哪,太太,出了什么乱子啦?"
    很难说出了什么乱子.谁也不知道蓓基究竟有没有失节.她当然为自己洗刷,可是从她嘴里说出来的话,谁敢断定是真是假?谁闹得清脏心坏肺的女人这一回是不是遭了冤枉?她的谎话,她的阴谋诡计,她那些自私的打算,她的机智和天才,一股脑儿破产了.女佣人拉上窗帘,做出一副和善嘴脸哄着主妇躺下休息,然后走下楼去,把散在地板上的首饰捡起来.这些珠宝钻石还是隔夜利蓓加遵照丈夫的命令丢在地下的,后来斯丹恩勋爵走了,竟没人去碰过一指头.

CHAPTER LIV Sunday After the Battle The mansion of Sir Pitt Crawley, in Great Gaunt Street, was just beginning to dress itself for the day, as Rawdon, in his evening costume, which he had now worn two days, passed by the scared female who was scouring the steps and entered into his brother's study. Lady Jane, in her morning-gown, was up and above stairs in the nursery superintending the toilettes of her children and listening to the morning prayers which the little creatures performed at her knee. Every morning she and they performed this duty privately, and before the public ceremonial at which Sir Pitt presided and at which all the people of the household were expected to assemble. Rawdon sat down in the study before the Baronet's table, set out with the orderly blue books and the letters, the neatly docketed bills and symmetrical pamphlets, the locked account-books, desks, and dispatch boxes, the Bible, the Quarterly Review, and the Court Guide, which all stood as if on parade awaiting the inspection of their chief. A book of family sermons, one of which Sir Pitt was in the habit of administering to his family on Sunday mornings, lay ready on the study table, and awaiting his judicious selection. And by the sermon-book was the Observer newspaper, damp and neatly folded, and for Sir Pitt's own private use. His gentleman alone took the opportunity of perusing the newspaper before he laid it by his master's desk. Before he had brought it into the study that morning, he had read in the journal a flaming account of "Festivities at Gaunt House," with the names of all the distinguished personages invited by tho Marquis of Steyne to meet his Royal Highness. Having made comments upon this entertainment to the housekeeper and her niece as they were taking early tea and hot buttered toast in the former lady's apartment, and wondered how the Rawding Crawleys could git on, the valet had damped and folded the paper once more, so that it looked quite fresh and innocent against the arrival of the master of the house. Poor Rawdon took up the paper and began to try and read it until his brother should arrive. But the print fell blank upon his eyes, and he did not know in the least what he was reading. The Government news and appointments (which Sir Pitt as a public man was bound to peruse, otherwise he would by no means permit the introduction of Sunday papers into his household), the theatrical criticisms, the fight for a hundred pounds a side between the Barking Butcher and the Tutbury Pet, the Gaunt House chronicle itself, which contained a most complimentary though guarded account of the famous charades of which Mrs. Becky had been the heroine--all these passed as in a haze before Rawdon, as he sat waiting the arrival of the chief of the family. Punctually, as the shrill-toned bell of the black marble study clock began to chime nine, Sir Pitt made his appearance, fresh, neat, smugly shaved, with a waxy clean face, and stiff shirt collar, his scanty hair combed and oiled, trimming his nails as he descended the stairs majestically, in a starched cravat and a grey flannel dressing-gown--a real old English gentleman, in a word--a model of neatness and every propriety. He started when he saw poor Rawdon in his study in tumbled clothes, with blood-shot eyes, and his hair over his face. He thought his brother was not sober, and had been out all night on some orgy. "Good gracious, Rawdon," he said, with a blank face, "what brings you here at this time of the morning? Why ain't you at home?" "Home," said Rawdon with a wild laugh. "Don't be frightened, Pitt. I'm not drunk. Shut the door; I want to speak to you." Pitt closed the door and came up to the table, where he sat down in the other arm-chair--that one placed for the reception of the steward, agent, or confidential visitor who came to transact business with the Baronet--and trimmed his nails more vehemently than ever. "Pitt, it's all over with me," the Colonel said after a pause. "I'm done." "I always said it would come to this," the Baronet cried peevishly, and beating a tune with his clean-trimmed nails. "I warned you a thousand times. I can't help you any more. Every shilling of my money is tied up. Even the hundred pounds that Jane took you last night were promised to my lawyer to-morrow morning, and the want of it will put me to great inconvenience. I don't mean to say that I won't assist you ultimately. But as for paying your creditors in full, I might as well hope to pay the National Debt. It is madness, sheer madness, to think of such a thing. You must come to a compromise. It's a painful thing for the family, but everybody does it. There was George Kitely, Lord Ragland's son, went through the Court last week, and was what they call whitewashed, I believe. Lord Ragland would not pay a shilling for him, and--" "It's not money I want," Rawdon broke in. "I'm not come to you about myself. Never mind what happens to me." "What is the matter, then?" said Pitt, somewhat relieved. "It's the boy," said Rawdon in a husky voice. "I want you to promise me that you will take charge of him when I'm gone. That dear good wife of yours has always been good to him; and he's fonder of her than he is of his . . .--Damn it. Look here, Pitt--you know that I was to have had Miss Crawley's money. I wasn't brought up like a younger brother, but was always encouraged to be extravagant and kep idle. But for this I might have been quite a different man. I didn't do my duty with the regiment so bad. You know how I was thrown over about the money, and who got it." "After the sacrifices I have made, and the manner in which I have stood by you, I think this sort of reproach is useless," Sir Pitt said. "Your marriage was your own doing, not mine." "That's over now," said Rawdon. "That's over now." And the words were wrenched from him with a groan, which made his brother start. "Good God! is she dead?" Sir Pitt said with a voice of genuine alarm and commiseration. "I wish I was," Rawdon replied. "If it wasn't for little Rawdon I'd have cut my throat this morning--and that damned villain's too." Sir Pitt instantly guessed the truth and surmised that Lord Steyne was the person whose life Rawdon wished to take. The Colonel told his senior briefly, and in broken accents, the circumstances of the case. "It was a regular plan between that scoundrel and her," he said. "The bailiffs were put upon me; I was taken as I was going out of his house; when I wrote to her for money, she said she was ill in bed and put me off to another day. And when I got home I found her in diamonds and sitting with that villain alone." He then went on to describe hurriedly the personal conflict with Lord Steyne. To an affair of that nature, of course, he said, there was but one issue, and after his conference with his brother, he was going away to make the necessary arrangements for the meeting which must ensue. "And as it may end fatally with me," Rawdon said with a broken voice, "and as the boy has no mother, I must leave him to you and Jane, Pitt--only it will be a comfort to me if you will promise me to be his friend." The elder brother was much affected, and shook Rawdon's hand with a cordiality seldom exhibited by him. Rawdon passed his hand over his shaggy eyebrows. "Thank you, brother," said he. "I know I can trust your word." "I will, upon my honour," the Baronet said. And thus, and almost mutely, this bargain was struck between them. Then Rawdon took out of his pocket the little pocket-book which he had discovered in Becky's desk, and from which he drew a bundle of the notes which it contained. "Here's six hundred," he said--"you didn't know I was so rich. I want you to give the money to Briggs, who lent it to us--and who was kind to the boy--and I've always felt ashamed of having taken the poor old woman's money. And here's some more--I've only kept back a few pounds--which Becky may as well have, to get on with." As he spoke he took hold of the other notes to give to his brother, but his hands shook, and he was so agitated that the pocket-book fell from him, and out of it the thousand-pound note which had been the last of the unlucky Becky's winnings. Pitt stooped and picked them up, amazed at so much wealth. "Not that," Rawdon said. "I hope to put a bullet into the man whom that belongs to." He had thought to himself, it would be a fine revenge to wrap a ball in the note and kill Steyne with it. After this colloquy the brothers once more shook hands and parted. Lady Jane had heard of the Colonel's arrival, and was waiting for her husband in the adjoining dining-room, with female instinct, auguring evil. The door of the dining-room happened to be left open, and the lady of course was issuing from it as the two brothers passed out of the study. She held out her hand to Rawdon and said she was glad he was come to breakfast, though she could perceive, by his haggard unshorn face and the dark looks of her husband, that there was very little question of breakfast between them. Rawdon muttered some excuses about an engagement, squeezing hard the timid little hand which his sister-in-law reached out to him. Her imploring eyes could read nothing but calamity in his face, but he went away without another word. Nor did Sir Pitt vouchsafe her any explanation. The children came up to salute him, and he kissed them in his usual frigid manner. The mother took both of them close to herself, and held a hand of each of them as they knelt down to prayers, which Sir Pitt read to them, and to the servants in their Sunday suits or liveries, ranged upon chairs on the other side of the hissing tea-urn. Breakfast was so late that day, in consequence of the delays which had occurred, that the church-bells began to ring whilst they were sitting over their meal; and Lady Jane was too ill, she said, to go to church, though her thoughts had been entirely astray during the period of family devotion. Rawdon Crawley meanwhile hurried on from Great Gaunt Street, and knocking at the great bronze Medusa's head which stands on the portal of Gaunt House, brought out the purple Silenus in a red and silver waistcoat who acts as porter of that palace. The man was scared also by the Colonel's dishevelled appearance, and barred the way as if afraid that the other was going to force it. But Colonel Crawley only took out a card and enjoined him particularly to send it in to Lord Steyne, and to mark the address written on it, and say that Colonel Crawley would be all day after one o'clock at the Regent Club in St. James's Street--not at home. The fat red-faced man looked after him with astonishment as he strode away; so did the people in their Sunday clothes who were out so early; the charity- boys with shining faces, the greengrocer lolling at his door, and the publican shutting his shutters in the sunshine, against service commenced. The people joked at the cab-stand about his appearance, as he took a carriage there, and told the driver to drive him to Knightsbridge Barracks. All the bells were jangling and tolling as he reached that place. He might have seen his old acquaintance Amelia on her way from Brompton to Russell Square, had he been looking out. Troops of schools were on their march to church, the shiny pavement and outsides of coaches in the suburbs were thronged with people out upon their Sunday pleasure; but the Colonel was much too busy to take any heed of these phenomena, and, arriving at Knightsbridge, speedily made his way up to the room of his old friend and comrade Captain Macmurdo, who Crawley found, to his satisfaction, was in barracks. Captain Macmurdo, a veteran officer and Waterloo man, greatly liked by his regiment, in which want of money alone prevented him from attaining the highest ranks, was enjoying the forenoon calmly in bed. He had been at a fast supper-party, given the night before by Captain the Honourable George Cinqbars, at his house in Brompton Square, to several young men of the regiment, and a number of ladies of the corps de ballet, and old Mac, who was at home with people of all ages and ranks, and consorted with generals, dog-fanciers, opera-dancers, bruisers, and every kind of person, in a word, was resting himself after the night's labours, and, not being on duty, was in bed. His room was hung round with boxing, sporting, and dancing pictures, presented to him by comrades as they retired from the regiment, and married and settled into quiet life. And as he was now nearly fifty years of age, twenty-four of which he had passed in the corps, he had a singular museum. He was one of the best shots in England, and, for a heavy man, one of the best riders; indeed, he and Crawley had been rivals when the latter was in the Army. To be brief, Mr. Macmurdo was lying in bed, reading in Bell's Life an account of that very fight between the Tutbury Pet and the Barking Butcher, which has been before mentioned--a venerable bristly warrior, with a little close-shaved grey head, with a silk nightcap, a red face and nose, and a great dyed moustache. When Rawdon told the Captain he wanted a friend, the latter knew perfectly well on what duty of friendship he was called to act, and indeed had conducted scores of affairs for his acquaintances with the greatest prudence and skill. His Royal Highness the late lamented Commander-in-Chief had had the greatest regard for Macmurdo on this account, and he was the common refuge of gentlemen in trouble. "What's the row about, Crawley, my boy?" said the old warrior. "No more gambling business, hay, like that when we shot Captain Marker?" "It's about--about my wife," Crawley answered, casting down his eyes and turning very red. The other gave a whistle. "I always said she'd throw you over," he began--indeed there were bets in the regiment and at the clubs regarding the probable fate of Colonel Crawley, so lightly was his wife's character esteemed by his comrades and the world; but seeing the savage look with which Rawdon answered the expression of this opinion, Macmurdo did not think fit to enlarge upon it further. "Is there no way out of it, old boy?" the Captain continued in a grave tone. "Is it only suspicion, you know, or--or what is it? Any letters? Can't you keep it quiet? Best not make any noise about a thing of that sort if you can help it." "Think of his only finding her out now," the Captain thought to himself, and remembered a hundred particular conversations at the mess-table, in which Mrs. Crawley's reputation had been torn to shreds. "There's no way but one out of it," Rawdon replied--"and there's only a way out of it for one of us, Mac--do you understand? I was put out of the way--arrested--I found 'em alone together. I told him he was a liar and a coward, and knocked him down and thrashed him." "Serve him right," Macmurdo said. "Who is it?" Rawdon answered it was Lord Steyne. "The deuce! a Marquis! they said he--that is, they said you--" "What the devil do you mean?" roared out Rawdon; "do you mean that you ever heard a fellow doubt about my wife and didn't tell me, Mac?" "The world's very censorious, old boy," the other replied. "What the deuce was the good of my telling you what any tom-fools talked about?" "It was damned unfriendly, Mac," said Rawdon, quite overcome; and, covering his face with his hands, he gave way to an emotion, the sight of which caused the tough old campaigner opposite him to wince with sympathy. "Hold up, old boy," he said; "great man or not, we'll put a bullet in him, damn him. As for women, they're all so." "You don't know how fond I was of that one," Rawdon said, half- inarticulately. "Damme, I followed her like a footman. I gave up everything I had to her. I'm a beggar because I would marry her. By Jove, sir, I've pawned my own watch in order to get her anything she fancied; and she she's been making a purse for herself all the time, and grudged me a hundred pound to get me out of quod." He then fiercely and incoherently, and with an agitation under which his counsellor had never before seen him labour, told Macmurdo the circumstances of the story. His adviser caught at some stray hints in it. "She may be innocent, after all," he said. "She says so. Steyne has been a hundred times alone with her in the house before." "It may be so," Rawdon answered sadly, "but this don't look very innocent": and he showed the Captain the thousand-pound note which he had found in Becky's pocket-book. "This is what he gave her, Mac, and she kep it unknown to me; and with this money in the house, she refused to stand by me when I was locked up." The Captain could not but own that the secreting of the money had a very ugly look. Whilst they were engaged in their conference, Rawdon dispatched Captain Macmurdo's servant to Curzon Street, with an order to the domestic there to give up a bag of clothes of which the Colonel had great need. And during the man's absence, and with great labour and a Johnson's Dictionary, which stood them in much stead, Rawdon and his second composed a letter, which the latter was to send to Lord Steyne. Captain Macmurdo had the honour of waiting upon the Marquis of Steyne, on the part of Colonel Rawdon Crawley, and begged to intimate that he was empowered by the Colonel to make any arrangements for the meeting which, he had no doubt, it was his Lordship's intention to demand, and which the circumstances of the morning had rendered inevitable. Captain Macmurdo begged Lord Steyne, in the most polite manner, to appoint a friend, with whom he (Captain M.M.) might communicate, and desired that the meeting might take place with as little delay as possible. In a postscript the Captain stated that he had in his possession a bank-note for a large amount, which Colonel Crawley had reason to suppose was the property of the Marquis of Steyne. And he was anxious, on the Colonel's behalf, to give up the note to its owner. By the time this note was composed, the Captain's servant returned from his mission to Colonel Crawley's house in Curzon Street, but without the carpet-bag and portmanteau, for which he had been sent, and with a very puzzled and odd face. "They won't give 'em up," said the man; "there's a regular shinty in the house, and everything at sixes and sevens. The landlord's come in and took possession. The servants was a drinkin' up in the drawingroom. They said--they said you had gone off with the plate, Colonel"--the man added after a pause--"One of the servants is off already. And Simpson, the man as was very noisy and drunk indeed, says nothing shall go out of the house until his wages is paid up." The account of this little revolution in May Fair astonished and gave a little gaiety to an otherwise very triste conversation. The two officers laughed at Rawdon's discomfiture. "I'm glad the little 'un isn't at home," Rawdon said, biting his nails. "You remember him, Mac, don't you, in the Riding School? How he sat the kicker to be sure! didn't he?" "That he did, old boy," said the good-natured Captain. Little Rawdon was then sitting, one of fifty gown boys, in the Chapel of Whitefriars School, thinking, not about the sermon, but about going home next Saturday, when his father would certainly tip him and perhaps would take him to the play. "He's a regular trump, that boy," the father went on, still musing about his son. "I say, Mac, if anything goes wrong--if I drop--I should like you to--to go and see him, you know, and say that I was very fond of him, and that. And--dash it--old chap, give him these gold sleeve-buttons: it's all I've got." He covered his face with his black hands, over which the tears rolled and made furrows of white. Mr. Macmurdo had also occasion to take off his silk night- cap and rub it across his eyes. "Go down and order some breakfast," he said to his man in a loud cheerful voice. "What'll you have, Crawley? Some devilled kidneys and a herring--let's say. And, Clay, lay out some dressing things for the Colonel: we were always pretty much of a size, Rawdon, my boy, and neither of us ride so light as we did when we first entered the corps." With which, and leaving the Colonel to dress himself, Macmurdo turned round towards the wall, and resumed the perusal of Bell's Life, until such time as his friend's toilette was complete and he was at liberty to commence his own. This, as he was about to meet a lord, Captain Macmurdo performed with particular care. He waxed his mustachios into a state of brilliant polish and put on a tight cravat and a trim buff waistcoat, so that all the young officers in the mess-room, whither Crawley had preceded his friend, complimented Mac on his appearance at breakfast and asked if he was going to be married that Sunday. 第 五 十 四 章    交锋后的星期日     大岗脱街上毕脱.克劳莱爵士公馆里的人刚刚起身,衣服还没有穿好,罗登已经来了.他身上的晚礼服两天没有更换,擦洗台阶的女佣人瞧他那样子直觉得害怕.他在那女佣人身旁跨过,一直跑到哥哥的书房里.那时吉恩夫人穿着晨衣,正在楼上孩子屋里打发两个小的梳洗,并且监着他们跪在自己身边做祷告.这是他们娘儿三人私下的日课,没有一天早上间断的.接下来是毕脱爵士领导的合家大祈祷,家下人人都得出席.罗登在从男爵的写字台前面坐下来.写字台上整整齐齐的排列着蓝皮书,来往的信件,一叠叠的议案摘要,堆放得两面相称的小册子;还有上锁的账本.公事包.《圣经》.每季评论杂志.《宫廷指南》,好像排着队等候上司来检阅.     每逢星期日早上,毕脱爵士按例要和家人讲道.常用的一本训戒已经搁在桌子上等着他.他的眼光准确,挑选的题目个个合适.那本训戒旁边是一份折叠得端端正正的《观察报》,油墨还没有全干.这份报是给毕脱爵士一人独看的,全家只有他的亲随是例外,报纸没搁上主人的写字台以前,他总要偷看一遍.那天早上,他已经在报上读到一篇淋漓生动的岗脱大厦宴会花絮,里面列举了各位贵客的姓名,这些人全是斯丹恩侯爵邀来给亲王大人做陪客的.当时那亲随和管家娘子,还有她侄女儿,都在管家娘子屋里喝早茶,吃滚热的烤面包和黄油.他把自己对于这次宴会的见解讲给她们两位听,并且说他觉得罗登.克劳莱一家的生活来源是个谜.接下来他把报纸打湿,重新叠好,看上去笔挺浆硬的仿佛没人碰过,专等主人来看.     可怜的罗登等他哥哥不来,只好打开报纸来看,可是一个字也看不进去,不知道上面说的是什么.报上有官方的消息和新任命的官员的姓名,毕脱爵士因为在官场里出入,不得不留心这种新闻,要不然他决不在星期天看报.另外有剧坛的批评文章和关于拳击的新闻,两位拳击家一个叫怒吼的屠夫,一个叫德德白莱的宝贝,赌的输赢共是一百镑.再下去就是岗脱大厦的宴会花絮,写文章的把有名的猜谜表演渲染了一番,对于主角蓓基夫人竭力恭维,虽然那口气辞令相当的审慎.当下罗登坐着等一家之主下来,报上的记载如在云里雾里模模糊糊在眼前飘过.     书房里一只黑大理石的钟叮叮东东打了九下,毕脱爵士准时进来了.他精神饱满,穿着整齐,刚剃了胡子,一张淡黄脸儿显得干净,稀稀朗朗的头发上了油,梳理得非常平整.他戴着硬领和浆过的领巾,穿着灰色法兰绒的晨衣,容色庄严,一步步走下楼来,一路还在修指甲.他周身没一处不雅观,没一处不合规矩,只有老派的英国绅士才有这种气度.他看见可怜的罗登在他书房里,衣服皱得一团糟,眼睛里全是血丝,头发直披到脸上,不由得吓了一跳,以为他整夜在外大玩大乐,喝醉了酒没醒,呆着脸儿说道:"天哪!罗登,怎么一早就来了?干吗不回家?"     罗登道:"还提回家的话!别怕,毕脱,我没有醉.关上门,我有话跟你说."     毕脱关了门回进来.桌子旁边有张扶手椅子,凡是总管和账房要见他,或是客人有机密事情商量,这就是他们的位子.毕脱在这椅子上坐下来,使劲修指甲.     半晌,上校开口道:"毕脱,我什么都完了,没有救了."     从男爵一听这话,焦躁起来.他那修饰得干净的指甲忒儿伦伦的敲着桌子,嘴里嚷嚷道:"我早就料到你会闹到这步田地,警告过你不知多少回.我不能再帮忙了,家里的钱每个先令都派了用处,连昨儿晚上吉恩给你的一百镑也是硬扣下来的.原定明天早上付清律师的公费,现在给了你,又是饥荒.我并不是说以后不帮你.可是你的债我可付不了,那倒不如叫我给政府还外债呢.你这样的打算简直是胡闹,根本就是胡闹!我看你只能和债权人到法庭上订个仲裁契约.这一来家里的名声当然不雅,不过也没法了,反正人人都走这条路.上星期拉格伦勋爵的儿子乔治.该德莱就上法庭办了现在所谓'解债复权,的手续.拉格伦勋爵一个子儿不给,后来......"     罗登打断他说道:"我要的不是钱.今天我不是为自己来的.别管我遭了什么倒楣事儿......"     毕脱心里一松,问道:"那么究竟是什么事情呢?"     罗登哑声说道:"我是为着孩子才来的.只求你答应一声,我走了以后好好照应他.你那忠厚的好太太一向疼他.他跟大娘也亲热,比他自己的......唉!毕脱,你也明白,克劳莱小姐的钱本来应该归我承继.我不比普通一般的小儿子,从小手里阔绰,家里人尽着我花钱,什么事都不叫我做.倘若我从前没过惯那日子,到今天也许不是这个形景.我在军队里就混得不坏.你知道遗产本来该是我的,你也知道后来谁得了好处."     毕脱道:"我这样克扣自己,处处帮你的忙,你还能责备我?娶亲是你自己的主意,可不能怪我."     罗登道:"这段姻缘已经完了,已经完了."他使劲迸出这些话,忍不住哼哼起来,把他哥哥吓了一跳.     毕脱认真同情弟弟,惊讶道:"天啊,她死了吗?"     罗登答道:"但愿我自己死了!若不是为了小罗登,我今天早上已经抹了脖子,也决不饶那混蛋的狗命."     毕脱爵士立刻猜着罗登要杀死的准是斯丹恩勋爵.上校语不成声,三言两语把经过的情形说了一遍.他说:"这是那混帐东西和她做好的圈套.那几个地保是他叫来的.从他家里出来,我就给他们逮住了.我写信问她要钱,她推三阻四说病着不能起床,要到第二天才能来赎我.等我回到家里,看见她戴满了金刚钻首饰陪着他,屋里一个别人都没有."接着他草草的描写自己怎么和斯丹恩争闹打架.他说,在这种情形之下,只有一条路可走,那就是和对手决斗一场;他打算和哥哥别过之后马上把决斗前一切必需的手续办一办.罗登断断续续的说道:"决斗下来也许是我送命,孩子又没有了母亲,我只能把他托给你和吉恩.毕脱,如果你答应招呼他,我就没什么不放心了."     他的哥哥非常感动,一反平时冷漠的态度,热烈的和他拉手.罗登抬起手来抹着自己又浓又粗的眉毛,说道:"谢谢你,哥哥,我知道我能够相信你的话."     从男爵答道:"我把名誉担保,一定遵命."这样弟兄两个彼此心里有了默契.     罗登从口袋里把蓓基书台里搜着的皮夹子掏出来,抽出一叠钞票.他说:"这儿是六百镑......你大概不知道我这么有钱吧?这笔款子是布立葛丝借给我们的,请你还给她.这老婆儿真疼我那孩子,我一向觉得对不起她,不该使她的钱.剩下的这些钱......我想给蓓基过日子,我自己只留了几镑."他一面说,一面把其余的钱交给哥哥.他的手簌簌的发抖,心里又焦躁,一失手把皮夹掉在地下,倒楣的蓓基最后得来的一千镑便从里面滑出来.     毕脱弯下身子把票子捡起来,看见这么大的数目,诧异得不得了.罗登说:"这张不算在内.我希望一熗把这一千镑的主儿打死."照他的心思,恨不得把这张银票裹着子弹,一熗结果了斯丹恩,这段冤仇才报得爽快.     兄弟两人说完了话,重新拉拉手,彼此别过.吉恩夫人早已听见上校来了,在隔壁的饭间里等她丈夫出来.她有的是女人的直觉,知道准是出了乱子.饭厅的门开着,兄弟俩一出书房,吉恩夫人迎上去,假装无意之中从饭间里出来.她和罗登拉手,欢迎他留下吃早饭.其实她一看他形容憔悴,胡子也不刮,又见丈夫脸色阴沉沉的,很明白这会子不是吃不吃早饭的问题.罗登紧紧握着他嫂子怯生生的伸过来的小手,支支吾吾推托另外有约会.她无可奈何的瞧着他,越看越觉得凶多吉少.罗登没有再说话就走掉了,毕脱爵士也不向她解释.孩子们上来见了父亲,毕脱像平常一样冷冰冰的吻了他们.做母亲的把两个孩子紧紧的接在身边,跪下来祈祷的当儿还一手牵着一个不放.祈祷文是毕脱爵士念的,不但他们娘儿三个跟着祈祷,所有的佣人也参加,有些穿着号衣,其余的身上全是礼拜天穿的新衣服,一排排坐在饭间的那一边.主仆两起人中间隔着个茶吊子,吊子里的开水嘶儿嘶儿的响.因为有了意外的耽搁,早饭特别迟,大家还没有离座,教堂的钟声已经打起来了.吉恩夫人说她身上不快,不上教堂,刚才家下人一起祷告的时候她心不在焉,一直在想别的事情.     罗登.克劳莱匆匆忙忙出了大岗脱街来到岗脱大厦.门上的偌大一个青铜门环塑的是梅丢沙(希腊神话中的蛇发女怪.)的头,他扣着门环,府里面的门房出来应门.这门房漆紫的一张脸,像个沙里纳斯,穿着银红二色的背心.他看见上校蓬头乱服,心里着忙,生怕他闯到府里去,连忙挺身挡住他的去路.不料克劳莱上校只拿出一张名片,切切实实嘱咐他把名片交给斯丹恩勋爵,请勋爵认清名片上的地址,并且说克劳莱上校从下午一点钟一直到晚上都在圣詹姆士街亲王俱乐部等着勋爵,请勋爵不要到家里去找他.说完,他大踏步走了,红脸胖子在后面满面诧异望着他.那时街上已经有好些人,全穿着新衣服.孤儿院里的孩子一个个脸儿擦得发亮,蔬菜铺子的老板懒懒的靠在门口,酒店主人因为教堂的仪式已经开始,不能再做买卖,正在阳光里关百叶窗,大家瞧着他心里纳罕.他走到街车站,附近的人也都笑他.他雇好车子,吩咐车夫赶到武士桥军营去.     他到达武士桥的时候,所有礼拜堂里的钟声响成一片.如果他留神的话,准会看见从前的老相识爱米丽亚正从白朗浦顿向勒塞尔广场出发.一队队的学生排着队往教堂去.郊外发亮的石板路上,发亮的马车里,满是星期日出来作耍的游人.上校心里有事,来不及注意这些形形色色.他到了武士桥军营,一径找到老朋友麦克墨笃上尉的房间里去,发现他没出门,觉得很高兴.     麦克墨笃上尉资格很老,曾经参加滑铁卢之战.他在联队里最有人缘,若不是少了几个钱,稳稳是个高级将领.当时他躺在床上,打算静静儿的歇一早晨.隔天晚上,乔治.新伯上尉请客,邀了联队里几个年轻小伙子和好些跳巴蕾舞的女士,在他白朗浦顿广场的寓所里放怀作乐,麦克老头儿也跟着闹了一晚上.他天生的随和脾气,和各种年龄各种阶层的人物都谈得投机,不管是将军.狗夫.舞女,还是拳击家,拉来就是朋友.他隔夜累了,星期日又不值班,所以躺在床上睡觉.     他的房间里挂满了伙伴们的相片,有在运动的,有在打拳的,也有在跳舞的.这些人从军队退休,成了家打算安居一方,临别少不得送张相片做做纪念.他今年快五十岁了,在军队里已经混了二十四年,因此他的收藏既丰富又希奇,房里倒像博物陈列所.他是全英国数一数二的好熗手,在体胖身重的人里面,算得上第一流的骑师.克劳莱离开军队之前,麦克墨笃和他两人便是劲敌.闲话少说,麦克墨笃先生躺在床上《看贝尔时装画报》里面记载的拳击比赛,也就是上面说起的德德白莱的宝贝和怒吼的屠夫两人的一场搏斗.看来这个久经风霜的老军官不是好惹的.他的头不大,灰色的头发给剃光了,头上戴一顶绸子睡帽;红红的脸,红红的鼻子,留着染过颜色的菱角大胡子.     上尉一听罗登需要朋友帮忙,立刻知道帮什么忙.这一类的差,他替朋友们办过好几十回,做事又缜密又能干.已故的总司令,那亲王大人,因为这缘故对于麦克墨笃非常看重.不管谁倒了楣,总先找麦克墨笃.     这位老军人说道:"克劳莱,我的孩子,为什么事吵架?总不成又为赌钱跟人闹翻了吧?从前咱们一熗打死马克上尉,可不就为这缘故吗?"     克劳莱绯红了脸,眼睛瞧着地下,答道:"这一回......这一回是为我老婆."     上尉唿哨一声,说道:"我早就说过她是没长心的,早晚和你撩开手."原来克劳莱上校的伙伴们和一般人全在议论他老婆不正经,猜不准他这事如何了局,往往在营里和俱乐部里打起赌来.罗登一听这话,脸上布满杀气,麦克墨笃便忍住没再说下去.     上尉接下去正色说道:"好孩子,这件事有没有别的法子解决?说不定是你自己疑神疑鬼,到底......到底有没有凭据呢?捏住了她的情书吗?我看最好掩密些.关于这种事情,还是别张扬出去为妙."他想起一次次在食堂里听见的飞短流长,大家说起克劳莱太太,就把她糟蹋得一钱不值.他心里暗想道:"真奇怪,他到今天才把老婆看穿."     罗登答道:"现在只有一条路.麦克,我跟他非拚个你死我活不可,你懂不懂?他们把我支使开了......关我在监牢里.后来我发现他们两个在一块儿.我骂他不要脸扯谎,骂他是个没肝胆的懦夫.我把他推倒在地上,揍了他一顿."     麦克墨笃说:"干得好!他是谁呀?"     罗登回说是斯丹恩勋爵.     "见鬼!还是个侯爵!他们说他......呃,他们说你......"     罗登大声嚷道:"你这是怎么说?难道你听得别人疑心我老婆不规矩,反而瞒着我吗?"     上尉答道:"孩子啊,世上的人全爱信口批评.糊涂虫背后嚼的舌头告诉你有什么意思呢?"     罗登这一下泄了气,说道:"麦克,你太不够朋友了."一面把两手捧着脸哭起来,他对面那位身经百战的老粗心软得不忍看他.上尉说道:"好小子,忍着点儿.妈的!不管他是什么大人物,咱们一熗打死他.至于女人呢,也不用说了,她们全是一路的货色."     罗登口齿模糊,哼哼着说道:"你不知道我多疼我老婆.我就像她的听差,成天跟着她伺候.凡是我的东西,任凭她处置.我闹得两手空空,还不是因为当初娶了她?老天在上!她看中了什么玩意儿,我当了自己的表给她买回来.而她呢,一直瞒着我藏私房,甚至于求她拿一百镑赎我出监牢都不肯."     他恨恨的把详细情形告诉麦克墨笃,气得话也说不完全.他的顾问还是第一遭看见他这么愤慨.后来麦克墨笃抓住他偶然漏出来的几句话,说道:"说不定她真是清白的.她自己这么说.而且斯丹恩向来三日两头在你家,可不老和你太太两个在一块儿吗?"     罗登闷闷的说道:"你说的也许对,可是这东西看上去不对劲儿吧?"说着,他把蓓基皮夹里的一千镑拿给上尉看."麦克,这是他给的.我老婆瞒着我藏起来了.她手里有这么些钱,却不肯拿些儿出来赎我出监牢."上尉无话可对,只好承认偷藏私房这件事太不对眼.     罗登一面和朋友商量对付的办法,一面打发麦克墨笃上尉的跟班到克生街去问家里的听差要一包衣服来,因为他身上的衣服实在不成样子.那人动身之后,罗登和他助手费力劳神的写了一封信给斯丹恩勋爵,一面写一面查约翰逊博士的字典,还好这字典有用,帮了他们不少忙.这封信由麦克墨笃去送给斯丹恩勋爵.信上说,麦克墨笃上尉代表罗登.克劳莱上校来拜访斯丹恩勋爵,觉得十分荣幸.隔夜的纷争唯有用决斗的方式来解决,想来勋爵必然同意.决斗前的一切布置,由麦克墨笃代表克劳莱上校全权办理.麦克墨笃上尉恳求斯丹恩勋爵委派一位代表和他(麦克上尉)谈判一下,并且希望决斗能够尽早举行.那语气是恭敬到极点.信尾说起在他手里有一张数目极大的银票,据克劳莱上校的推测,大约是斯丹恩侯爵的,因此他愿意代上校将银票交还原主.     他们把这封信写完,上尉的跟班也从克生街办完差回来了.他傻登登的满脸诧异,包袱行囊什么都没有拿来.     他说:"他们不肯把东西交给我.屋里乱七八糟,简直的闹翻了天了.所有的佣人全在客厅里喝酒.他们说......他们说您卷了金银器皿逃走了,上校."半晌,他又道:"有一个佣人已经走了.另外有个叫新泼生的喝得烂醉,在那儿大呼小叫,说是工钱不付清,什么东西都不准拿出屋子."     罗登和麦克墨笃本来谈得心里凄惨,听说梅飞厄的房子里来了这么一个小小的革命,反倒乐了.他们想到这些倒楣的事儿,忍不住笑起来.     罗登咬着指甲说:"亏得孩子不在家.麦克,想来你还记得他在骑马学校上课的那回事吧?他骑的是一匹劣马,成绩真不错.对吗?"     好脾气的上尉答道:"孩子,他骑的真不错."     当时小罗登和其余四十九个穿长袍的孩子坐在白袍僧学院的教堂里做礼拜.他无心听牧师讲道,一心想着下星期六回家的时候爸爸一定会给他零用钱,说不定还会带他上戏院看戏.     做父亲的念念不忘自己的儿子,接下去说道:"我那孩子真了不起.麦克,如果我有个三长两短......如果我死了,......你能不能去......去看看他?告诉他我很喜欢他......这一类的话.老兄,请你把这一副金扣子给他.除此以外我真是一无所有了."他把黑不溜秋的手掩着脸,眼泪从手指缝里淌下来,在黑手背上添了许多白道儿.麦克墨笃心里不忍,拉下绸子睡帽抹着眼睛.     接下去他放大声音欢欢喜喜的对跟班说:"下去预备早饭!克劳莱,你吃什么呢?炒腰子和鲱鱼好不好?克雷,给上校预备下衣服.罗登,我的孩子,你的身材一向跟我差不多.如今咱们俩都发了胖,骑在马上远不如刚进部队的时候那么轻便了."说完这话,麦克墨笃让上校进去换衣服,自顾自翻身向着墙壁,继续看《贝尔时装画报》,直到朋友收拾完毕,叫他去梳洗,才把画报搁下来.     他因为准备去见一位勋爵,打扮得特别仔细,在菱角胡子上加了蜡,擦得发亮,然后戴上一条窄窄的领巾,穿上一件整齐的黄皮背心.克劳莱先到食堂,他跟着进去,所有的年轻小伙子都恭维他穿戴得漂亮,问他是否当天就要结婚.

CHAPTER LV In Which the Same Subject is Pursued Becky did not rally from the state of stupor and confusion in which the events of the previous night had plunged her intrepid spirit until the bells of the Curzon Street Chapels were ringing for afternoon service, and rising from her bed she began to ply her own bell, in order to summon the French maid who had left her some hours before. Mrs. Rawdon Crawley rang many times in vain; and though, on the last occasion, she rang with such vehemence as to pull down the bell- rope, Mademoiselle Fifine did not make her appearance--no, not though her mistress, in a great pet, and with the bell-rope in her hand, came out to the landing-place with her hair over her shoulders and screamed out repeatedly for her attendant. The truth is, she had quitted the premises for many hours, and upon that permission which is called French leave among us After picking up the trinkets in the drawing-room, Mademoiselle had ascended to her own apartments, packed and corded her own boxes there, tripped out and called a cab for herself, brought down her trunks with her own hand, and without ever so much as asking the aid of any of the other servants, who would probably have refused it, as they hated her cordially, and without wishing any one of them good-bye, had made her exit from Curzon Street. The game, in her opinion, was over in that little domestic establishment. Fifine went off in a cab, as we have known more exalted persons of her nation to do under similar circumstances: but, more provident or lucky than these, she secured not only her own property, but some of her mistress's (if indeed that lady could be said to have any property at all)--and not only carried off the trinkets before alluded to, and some favourite dresses on which she had long kept her eye, but four richly gilt Louis Quatorze candlesticks, six gilt albums, keepsakes, and Books of Beauty, a gold enamelled snuff-box which had once belonged to Madame du Barri, and the sweetest little inkstand and mother-of-pearl blotting book, which Becky used when she composed her charming little pink notes, had vanished from the premises in Curzon Street together with Mademoiselle Fifine, and all the silver laid on the table for the little festin which Rawdon interrupted. The plated ware Mademoiselle left behind her was too cumbrous, probably for which reason, no doubt, she also left the fire irons, the chimney-glasses, and the rosewood cottage piano. A lady very like her subsequently kept a milliner's shop in the Rue du Helder at Paris, where she lived with great credit and enjoyed the patronage of my Lord Steyne. This person always spoke of England as of the most treacherous country in the world, and stated to her young pupils that she had been affreusement vole by natives of that island. It was no doubt compassion for her misfortunes which induced the Marquis of Steyne to be so very kind to Madame de Saint-Amaranthe. May she flourish as she deserves--she appears no more in our quarter of Vanity Fair. Hearing a buzz and a stir below, and indignant at the impudence of those servants who would not answer her summons, Mrs. Crawley flung her morning robe round her and descended majestically to the drawing-room, whence the noise proceeded. The cook was there with blackened face, seated on the beautiful chintz sofa by the side of Mrs. Raggles, to whom she was administering Maraschino. The page with the sugar-loaf buttons, who carried about Becky's pink notes, and jumped about her little carriage with such alacrity, was now engaged putting his fingers into a cream dish; the footman was talking to Raggles, who had a face full of perplexity and woe--and yet, though the door was open, and Becky had been screaming a half-dozen of times a few feet off, not one of her attendants had obeyed her call. "Have a little drop, do'ee now, Mrs. Raggles," the cook was saying as Becky entered, the white cashmere dressing-gown flouncing around her. "Simpson! Trotter!" the mistress of the house cried in great wrath. "How dare you stay here when you heard me call? How dare you sit down in my presence? Where's my maid?" The page withdrew his fingers from his mouth with a momentary terror, but the cook took off a glass of Maraschino, of which Mrs. Raggles had had enough, staring at Becky over the little gilt glass as she drained its contents. The liquor appeared to give the odious rebel courage. "YOUR sofy, indeed!" Mrs. Cook said. "I'm a settin' on Mrs. Raggles's sofy. Don't you stir, Mrs. Raggles, Mum. I'm a settin' on Mr. and Mrs. Raggles's sofy, which they bought with honest money, and very dear it cost 'em, too. And I'm thinkin' if I set here until I'm paid my wages, I shall set a precious long time, Mrs. Raggles; and set I will, too--ha! ha!" and with this she filled herself another glass of the liquor and drank it with a more hideously satirical air. "Trotter! Simpson! turn that drunken wretch out," screamed Mrs. Crawley. "I shawn't," said Trotter the footman; "turn out yourself. Pay our selleries, and turn me out too. WE'LL go fast enough." "Are you all here to insult me?" cried Becky in a fury; "when Colonel Crawley comes home I'll--" At this the servants burst into a horse haw-haw, in which, however, Raggles, who still kept a most melancholy countenance, did not join. "He ain't a coming back," Mr. Trotter resumed. "He sent for his things, and I wouldn't let 'em go, although Mr. Raggles would; and I don't b'lieve he's no more a Colonel than I am. He's hoff, and I suppose you're a goin' after him. You're no better than swindlers, both on you. Don't be a bullyin' ME. I won't stand it. Pay us our selleries, I say. Pay us our selleries." It was evident, from Mr. Trotter's flushed countenance and defective intonation, that he, too, had had recourse to vinous stimulus. "Mr. Raggles," said Becky in a passion of vexation, "you will not surely let me be insulted by that drunken man?" "Hold your noise, Trotter; do now," said Simpson the page. He was affected by his mistress's deplorable situation, and succeeded in preventing an outrageous denial of the epithet "drunken" on the footman's part. "Oh, M'am," said Raggles, "I never thought to live to see this year day: I've known the Crawley family ever since I was born. I lived butler with Miss Crawley for thirty years; and I little thought one of that family was a goin' to ruing me--yes, ruing me"--said the poor fellow with tears in his eyes. "Har you a goin' to pay me? You've lived in this 'ouse four year. You've 'ad my substance: my plate and linning. You ho me a milk and butter bill of two 'undred pound, you must 'ave noo laid heggs for your homlets, and cream for your spanil dog." "She didn't care what her own flesh and blood had," interposed the cook. "Many's the time, he'd have starved but for me." "He's a charaty-boy now, Cooky," said Mr. Trotter, with a drunken "ha! ha!"--and honest Raggles continued, in a lamentable tone, an enumeration of his griefs. All he said was true. Becky and her husband had ruined him. He had bills coming due next week and no means to meet them. He would be sold up and turned out of his shop and his house, because he had trusted to the Crawley family. His tears and lamentations made Becky more peevish than ever. "You all seem to be against me," she said bitterly. "What do you want? I can't pay you on Sunday. Come back to-morrow and I'll pay you everything. I thought Colonel Crawley had settled with you. He will to-morrow. I declare to you upon my honour that he left home this morning with fifteen hundred pounds in his pocket-book. He has left me nothing. Apply to him. Give me a bonnet and shawl and let me go out and find him. There was a difference between us this morning. You all seem to know it. I promise you upon my word that you shall all be paid. He has got a good appointment. Let me go out and find him." This audacious statement caused Raggles and the other personages present to look at one another with a wild surprise, and with it Rebecca left them. She went upstairs and dressed herself this time without the aid of her French maid. She went into Rawdon's room, and there saw that a trunk and bag were packed ready for removal, with a pencil direction that they should be given when called for; then she went into the Frenchwoman's garret; everything was clean, and all the drawers emptied there. She bethought herself of the trinkets which had been left on the ground and felt certain that the woman had fled. "Good Heavens! was ever such ill luck as mine?" she said; "to be so near, and to lose all. Is it all too late?" No; there was one chance more. She dressed herself and went away unmolested this time, but alone. It was four o'clock. She went swiftly down the streets (she had no money to pay for a carriage), and never stopped until she came to Sir Pitt Crawley's door, in Great Gaunt Street. Where was Lady Jane Crawley? She was at church. Becky was not sorry. Sir Pitt was in his study, and had given orders not to be disturbed--she must see him--she slipped by the sentinel in livery at once, and was in Sir Pitt's room before the astonished Baronet had even laid down the paper. He turned red and started back from her with a look of great alarm and horror. "Do not look so," she said. "I am not guilty, Pitt, dear Pitt; you were my friend once. Before God, I am not guilty. I seem so. Everything is against me. And oh! at such a moment! just when all my hopes were about to be realized: just when happiness was in store for us." "Is this true, what I see in the paper then?" Sir Pitt said--a paragraph in which had greatly surprised him. "It is true. Lord Steyne told me on Friday night, the night of that fatal ball. He has been promised an appointment any time these six months. Mr. Martyr, the Colonial Secretary, told him yesterday that it was made out. That unlucky arrest ensued; that horrible meeting. I was only guilty of too much devotedness to Rawdon's service. I have received Lord Steyne alone a hundred times before. I confess I had money of which Rawdon knew nothing. Don't you know how careless he is of it, and could I dare to confide it to him?" And so she went on with a perfectly connected story, which she poured into the ears of her perplexed kinsman. It was to the following effect. Becky owned, and with prefect frankness, but deep contrition, that having remarked Lord Steyne's partiality for her (at the mention of which Pitt blushed), and being secure of her own virtue, she had determined to turn the great peer's attachment to the advantage of herself and her family. "I looked for a peerage for you, Pitt," she said (the brother-in-law again turned red). "We have talked about it. Your genius and Lord Steyne's interest made it more than probable, had not this dreadful calamity come to put an end to all our hopes. But, first, I own that it was my object to rescue my dear husband--him whom I love in spite of all his ill usage and suspicions of me--to remove him from the poverty and ruin which was impending over us. I saw Lord Steyne's partiality for me," she said, casting down her eyes. "I own that I did everything in my power to make myself pleasing to him, and as far as an honest woman may, to secure his--his esteem. It was only on Friday morning that the news arrived of the death of the Governor of Coventry Island, and my Lord instantly secured the appointment for my dear husband. It was intended as a surprise for him--he was to see it in the papers to-day. Even after that horrid arrest took place (the expenses of which Lord Steyne generously said he would settle, so that I was in a manner prevented from coming to my husband's assistance), my Lord was laughing with me, and saying that my dearest Rawdon would be consoled when he read of his appointment in the paper, in that shocking spun--bailiff's house. And then--then he came home. His suspicions were excited,--the dreadful scene took place between my Lord and my cruel, cruel Rawdon--and, O my God, what will happen next? Pitt, dear Pitt! pity me, and reconcile us!" And as she spoke she flung herself down on her knees, and bursting into tears, seized hold of Pitt's hand, which she kissed passionately. It was in this very attitude that Lady Jane, who, returning from church, ran to her husband's room directly she heard Mrs. Rawdon Crawley was closeted there, found the Baronet and his sister-in-law. "I am surprised that woman has the audacity to enter this house," Lady Jane said, trembling in every limb and turning quite pale. (Her Ladyship had sent out her maid directly after breakfast, who had communicated with Raggles and Rawdon Crawley's household, who had told her all, and a great deal more than they knew, of that story, and many others besides). "How dare Mrs. Crawley to enter the house of--of an honest family?" Sir Pitt started back, amazed at his wife's display of vigour. Becky still kept her kneeling posture and clung to Sir Pitt's hand. "Tell her that she does not know all: Tell her that I am innocent, dear Pitt," she whimpered out. "Upon-my word, my love, I think you do Mrs. Crawley injustice," Sir Pitt said; at which speech Rebecca was vastly relieved. "Indeed I believe her to be--" "To be what?" cried out Lady Jane, her clear voice thrilling and, her heart beating violently as she spoke. "To be a wicked woman--a heartless mother, a false wife? She never loved her dear little boy, who used to fly here and tell me of her cruelty to him. She never came into a family but she strove to bring misery with her and to weaken the most sacred affections with her wicked flattery and falsehoods. She has deceived her husband, as she has deceived everybody; her soul is black with vanity, worldliness, and all sorts of crime. I tremble when I touch her. I keep my children out of her sight." "Lady Jane!" cried Sir Pitt, starting up, "this is really language--" "I have been a true and faithful wife to you, Sir Pitt," Lady Jane continued, intrepidly; "I have kept my marriage vow as I made it to God and have been obedient and gentle as a wife should. But righteous obedience has its limits, and I declare that I will not bear that--that woman again under my roof; if she enters it, I and my children will leave it. She is not worthy to sit down with Christian people. You--you must choose, sir, between her and me"; and with this my Lady swept out of the room, fluttering with her own audacity, and leaving Rebecca and Sir Pitt not a little astonished at it. As for Becky, she was not hurt; nay, she was pleased. "It was the diamond-clasp you gave me," she said to Sir Pitt, reaching him out her hand; and before she left him (for which event you may be sure my Lady Jane was looking out from her dressing-room window in the upper story) the Baronet had promised to go and seek out his brother, and endeavour to bring about a reconciliation. Rawdon found some of the young fellows of the regiment seated in the mess-room at breakfast, and was induced without much difficulty to partake of that meal, and of the devilled legs of fowls and soda- water with which these young gentlemen fortified themselves. Then they had a conversation befitting the day and their time of life: about the next pigeon-match at Battersea, with relative bets upon Ross and Osbaldiston; about Mademoiselle Ariane of the French Opera, and who had left her, and how she was consoled by Panther Carr; and about the fight between the Butcher and the Pet, and the probabilities that it was a cross. Young Tandyman, a hero of seventeen, laboriously endeavouring to get up a pair of mustachios, had seen the fight, and spoke in the most scientific manner about the battle and the condition of the men. It was he who had driven the Butcher on to the ground in his drag and passed the whole of the previous night with him. Had there not been foul play he must have won it. All the old files of the Ring were in it; and Tandyman wouldn't pay; no, dammy, he wouldn't pay. It was but a year since the young Cornet, now so knowing a hand in Cribb's parlour, had a still lingering liking for toffy, and used to be birched at Eton. So they went on talking about dancers, fights, drinking, demireps, until Macmurdo came down and joined the boys and the conversation. He did not appear to think that any especial reverence was due to their boyhood; the old fellow cut in with stories, to the full as choice as any the youngest rake present had to tell--nor did his own grey hairs nor their smooth faces detain him. Old Mac was famous for his good stories. He was not exactly a lady's man; that is, men asked him to dine rather at the houses of their mistresses than of their mothers. There can scarcely be a life lower, perhaps, than his, but he was quite contented with it, such as it was, and led it in perfect good nature, simplicity, and modesty of demeanour. By the time Mac had finished a copious breakfast, most of the others had concluded their meal. Young Lord Varinas was smoking an immense Meerschaum pipe, while Captain Hugues was employed with a cigar: that violent little devil Tandyman, with his little bull-terrier between his legs, was tossing for shillings with all his might (that fellow was always at some game or other) against Captain Deuceace; and Mac and Rawdon walked off to the Club, neither, of course, having given any hint of the business which was occupying their minds. Both, on the other hand, had joined pretty gaily in the conversation, for why should they interrupt it? Feasting, drinking, ribaldry, laughter, go on alongside of all sorts of other occupations in Vanity Fair--the crowds were pouring out of church as Rawdon and his friend passed down St. James's Street and entered into their Club. The old bucks and habitues, who ordinarily stand gaping and grinning out of the great front window of the Club, had not arrived at their posts as yet--the newspaper-room was almost empty. One man was present whom Rawdon did not know; another to whom he owed a little score for whist, and whom, in consequence, he did not care to meet; a third was reading the Royalist (a periodical famous for its scandal and its attachment to Church and King) Sunday paper at the table, and looking up at Crawley with some interest, said, "Crawley, I congratulate you." "What do you mean?" said the Colonel. "It's in the Observer and the Royalist too," said Mr. Smith. "What?" Rawdon cried, turning very red. He thought that the affair with Lord Steyne was already in the public prints. Smith looked up wondering and smiling at the agitation which the Colonel exhibited as he took up the paper and, trembling, began to read. Mr. Smith and Mr. Brown (the gentleman with .whom Rawdon had the outstanding whist account) had been talking about the Colonel just before he came in. "It is come just in the nick of time," said Smith. "I suppose Crawley had not a shilling in the world." "It's a wind that blows everybody good," Mr. Brown said. "He can't go away without paying me a pony he owes me." "What's the salary?" asked Smith. "Two or three thousand," answered the other. "But the climate's so infernal, they don't enjoy it long. Liverseege died after eighteen months of it, and the man before went off in six weeks, I hear." "Some people say his brother is a very clever man. I always found him a d----- bore," Smith ejaculated. "He must have good interest, though. He must have got the Colonel the place." "He!" said Brown. with a sneer. "Pooh. It was Lord Steyne got it. "How do you mean?" "A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband," answered the other enigmatically, and went to read his papers. Rawdon, for his part, read in the Royalist the following astonishing paragraph: GOVERNORSHIP OF COVENTRY ISLAND.--H.M.S. Yellowjack, Commander Jaunders, has brought letters and papers from Coventry Island. H. E. Sir Thomas Liverseege had fallen a victim to the prevailing fever at Swampton. His loss is deeply felt in the flourishing colony. We hear that the Governorship has been offered to Colonel Rawdon Crawley, C.B., a distinguished Waterloo officer. We need not only men of acknowledged bravery, but men of administrative talents to superintend the affairs of our colonies, and we have no doubt that the gentleman selected by the Colonial Office to fill the lamented vacancy which has occurred at Coventry Island is admirably calculated for the post which he is about to occupy." "Coventry Island! Where was it? Who had appointed him to the government? You must take me out as your secretary, old boy," Captain Macmurdo said laughing; and as Crawley and his friend sat wondering and perplexed over the announcement, the Club waiter brought in to the Colonel a card on which the name of Mr. Wenham was engraved, who begged to see Colonel Crawley. The Colonel and his aide-de-camp went out to meet the gentleman, rightly conjecturing that he was an emissary of Lord Steyne. "How d'ye do, Crawley? I am glad to see you," said Mr. Wenham with a bland smile, and grasping Crawley's hand with great cordiality. "You come, I suppose, from--" "Exactly," said Mr. Wenham. "Then this is my friend Captain Macmurdo, of the Life Guards Green." "Delighted to know Captain Macmurdo, I'm sure," Mr. Wenham said and tendered another smile and shake of the hand to the second, as he had done to the principal. Mac put out one finger, armed with a buckskin glove, and made a very frigid bow to Mr. Wenham over his tight cravat. He was, perhaps, discontented at being put in communication with a pekin, and thought that Lord Steyne should have sent him a Colonel at the very least. "As Macmurdo acts for me, and knows what I mean," Crawley said, "I had better retire and leave you together." "Of course," said Macmurdo. "By no means, my dear Colonel," Mr. Wenham said; "the interview which I had the honour of requesting was with you personally, though the company of Captain Macmurdo cannot fail to be also most pleasing. In fact, Captain, I hope that our conversation will lead to none but the most agreeable results, very different from those which my friend Colonel Crawley appears to anticipate." "Humph!" said Captain Macmurdo. Be hanged to these civilians, he thought to himself, they are always for arranging and speechifying. Mr. Wenham took a chair which was not offered to him--took a paper from his pocket, and resumed-- "You have seen this gratifying announcement in the papers this morning, Colonel? Government has secured a most valuable servant, and you, if you accept office, as I presume you will, an excellent appointment. Three thousand a year, delightful climate, excellent government-house, all your own way in the Colony, and a certain promotion. I congratulate you with all my heart. I presume you know, gentlemen, to whom my friend is indebted for this piece of patronage?" "Hanged if I know," the Captain said; his principal turned very red. "To one of the most generous and kindest men in the world, as he is one of the greatest--to my excellent friend, the Marquis of Steyne." "I'll see him d--- before I take his place," growled out Rawdon. "You are irritated against my noble friend," Mr. Wenham calmly resumed; "and now, in the name of common sense and justice, tell me why?" "WHY?" cried Rawdon in surprise. "Why? Dammy!" said the Captain, ringing his stick on the ground. "Dammy, indeed," said Mr. Wenham with the most agreeable smile; "still, look at the matter as a man of the world--as an honest man-- and see if you have not been in the wrong. You come home from a journey, and find--what?--my Lord Steyne supping at your house in Curzon Street with Mrs. Crawley. Is the circumstance strange or novel? Has he not been a hundred times before in the same position? Upon my honour and word as a gentleman"--Mr. Wenham here put his hand on his waistcoat with a parliamentary air--"I declare I think that your suspicions are monstrous and utterly unfounded, and that they injure an honourable gentleman who has proved his good-will towards you by a thousand benefactions--and a most spotless and innocent lady." "You don't mean to say that--that Crawley's mistaken?" said Mr. Macmurdo. "I believe that Mrs. Crawley is as innocent as my wife, Mrs. Wenham," Mr. Wenham said with great energy. "I believe that, misled by an infernal jealousy, my friend here strikes a blow against not only an infirm and old man of high station, his constant friend and benefactor, but against his wife, his own dearest honour, his son's future reputation, and his own prospects in life." "I will tell you what happened," Mr. Wenham continued with great solemnity; "I was sent for this morning by my Lord Steyne, and found him in a pitiable state, as, I need hardly inform Colonel Crawley, any man of age and infirmity would be after a personal conflict with a man of your strength. I say to your face; it was a cruel advantage you took of that strength, Colonel Crawley. It was not only the body of my noble and excellent friend which was wounded-- his heart, sir, was bleeding. A man whom he had loaded with benefits and regarded with affection had subjected him to the foulest indignity. What was this very appointment, which appears in the journals of to-day, but a proof of his kindness to you? When I saw his Lordship this morning I found him in a state pitiable indeed to see, and as anxious as you are to revenge the outrage committed upon him, by blood. You know he has given his proofs, I presume, Colonel Crawley?" "He has plenty of pluck," said the Colonel. "Nobody ever said he hadn't." "His first order to me was to write a letter of challenge, and to carry it to Colonel Crawley. One or other of us," he said, "must not survive the outrage of last night." Crawley nodded. "You're coming to the point, Wenham," he said. "I tried my utmost to calm Lord Steyne. Good God! sir," I said, "how I regret that Mrs. Wenham and myself had not accepted Mrs. Crawley's invitation to sup with her!" "She asked you to sup with her?" Captain Macmurdo said. "After the opera. Here's the note of invitation--stop--no, this is another paper--I thought I had h, but it's of no consequence, and I pledge you my word to the fact. If we had come--and it was only one of Mrs. Wenham's headaches which prevented us--she suffers under them a good deal, especially in the spring--if we had come, and you had returned home, there would have been no quarrel, no insult, no suspicion--and so it is positively because my poor wife has a headache that you are to bring death down upon two men of honour and plunge two of the most excellent and ancient families in the kingdom into disgrace and sorrow." Mr. Macmurdo looked at his principal with the air of a man profoundly puzzled, and Rawdon felt with a kind of rage that his prey was escaping him. He did not believe a word of the story, and yet, how discredit or disprove it? Mr. Wenham continued with the same fluent oratory, which in his place in Parliament he had so often practised--"I sat for an hour or more by Lord Steyne's bedside, beseeching, imploring Lord Steyne to forego his intention of demanding a meeting. I pointed out to him that the circumstances were after all suspicious--they were suspicious. I acknowledge it--any man in your position might have been taken in--I said that a man furious with jealousy is to all intents and purposes a madman, and should be as such regarded--that a duel between you must lead to the disgrace of all parties concerned--that a man of his Lordship's exalted station had no right in these days, when the most atrocious revolutionary principles, and the most dangerous levelling doctrines are preached among the vulgar, to create a public scandal; and that, however innocent, the common people would insist that he was guilty. In fine, I implored him not to send the challenge." "I don't believe one word of the whole story," said Rawdon, grinding his teeth. "I believe it a d----- lie, and that you're in it, Mr. Wenham. If the challenge don't come from him, by Jove it shall come from me." Mr. Wenham turned deadly pale at this savage interruption of the Colonel and looked towards the door. But he found a champion in Captain Macmurdo. That gentleman rose up with an oath and rebuked Rawdon for his language. "You put the affair into my hands, and you shall act as I think fit, by Jove, and not as you do. You have no right to insult Mr. Wenham with this sort of language; and dammy, Mr. Wenham, you deserve an apology. And as for a challenge to Lord Steyne, you may get somebody else to carry it, I won't. If my lord, after being thrashed, chooses to sit still, dammy let him. And as for the affair with--with Mrs. Crawley, my belief is, there's nothing proved at all: that your wife's innocent, as innocent as Mr. Wenham says she is; and at any rate that you would be a d--fool not to take the place and hold your tongue." "Captain Macmurdo, you speak like a man of sense," Mr. Wenham cried out, immensely relieved--"I forget any words that Colonel Crawley has used in the irritation of the moment.‘ "I thought you would," Rawdon said with a sneer. "Shut your mouth, you old stoopid," the Captain said good-naturedly. "Mr. Wenham ain't a fighting man; and quite right, too." "This matter, in my belief," the Steyne emissary cried, "ought to be buried in the most profound oblivion. A word concerning it should never pass these doors. I speak in the interest of my friend, as well as of Colonel Crawley, who persists in considering me his enemy." "I suppose Lord Steyne won't talk about it very much," said Captain Macmurdo; "and I don't see why our side should. The affair ain't a very pretty one, any way you take it, and the less said about it the better. It's you are thrashed, and not us; and if you are satisfied, why, I think, we should be." Mr. Wenham took his hat, upon this, and Captain Macmurdo following him to the door, shut it upon himself and Lord Steyne's agent, leaving Rawdon chafing within. When the two were on the other side, Macmurdo looked hard at the other ambassador and with an expression of anything but respect on his round jolly face. "You don't stick at a trifle, Mr. Wenham," he said. "You flatter me, Captain Macmurdo," answered the other with a smile. "Upon my honour and conscience now, Mrs. Crawley did ask us to sup after the opera." "Of course; and Mrs. Wenham had one of her head-aches. I say, I've got a thousand-pound note here, which I will give you if you will give me a receipt, please; and I will put the note up in an envelope for Lord Steyne. My man shan't fight him. But we had rather not take his money." "It was all a mistake--all a mistake, my dear sir," the other said with the utmost innocence of manner; and was bowed down the Club steps by Captain Macmurdo, just as Sir Pitt Crawley ascended them. There was a slight acquaintance between these two gentlemen, and the Captain, going back with the Baronet to the room where the latter's brother was, told Sir Pitt, in confidence, that he had made the affair all right between Lord Steyne and the Colonel. Sir Pitt was well pleased, of course, at this intelligence, and congratulated his brother warmly upon the peaceful issue of the affair, making appropriate moral remarks upon the evils of duelling and the unsatisfactory nature of that sort of settlement of disputes. And after this preface, he tried with all his eloquence to effect a reconciliation between Rawdon and his wife. He recapitulated the statements which Becky had made, pointed out the probabilities of their truth, and asserted his own firm belief in her innocence. But Rawdon would not hear of it. "She has kep money concealed from me these ten years," he said "She swore, last night only, she had none from Steyne. She knew it was all up, directly I found it. If she's not guilty, Pitt, she's as bad as guilty, and I'll never see her again--never." His head sank down on his chest as he spoke the words, and he looked quite broken and sad. "Poor old boy," Macmurdo said, shaking his head. Rawdon Crawley resisted for some time the idea of taking the place which had been procured for him by so odious a patron, and was also for removing the boy from the school where Lord Steyne's interest had placed him. He was induced, however, to acquiesce in these benefits by the entreaties of his brother and Macmurdo, but mainly by the latter, pointing out to him what a fury Steyne would be in to think that his enemy's fortune was made through his means. When the Marquis of Steyne came abroad after his accident, the Colonial Secretary bowed up to him and congratulated himself and the Service upon having made so excellent an appointment. These congratulations were received with a degree of gratitude which may be imagined on the part of Lord Steyne. The secret of the rencontre between him and Colonel Crawley was buried in the profoundest oblivion, as Wenham said; that is, by the seconds and the principals. But before that evening was over it was talked of at fifty dinner-tables in Vanity Fair. Little Cackleby himself went to seven evening parties and told the story with comments and emendations at each place. How Mrs. Washington White revelled in it! The Bishopess of Ealing was shocked beyond expression; the Bishop went and wrote his name down in the visiting- book at Gaunt House that very day. Little Southdown was sorry; so you may be sure was his sister Lady Jane, very sorry. Lady Southdown wrote it off to her other daughter at the Cape of Good Hope. It was town-talk for at least three days, and was only kept out of the newspapers by the exertions of Mr. Wagg, acting upon a hint from Mr. Wenham. The bailiffs and brokers seized upon poor Raggles in Curzon Street, and the late fair tenant of that poor little mansion was in the meanwhile--where? Who cared! Who asked after a day or two? Was she guilty or not? We all know how charitable the world is, and how the verdict of Vanity Fair goes when there is a doubt. Some people said she had gone to Naples in pursuit of Lord Steyne, whilst others averred that his Lordship quitted that city and fled to Palermo on hearing of Becky's arrival; some said she was living in Bierstadt, and had become a dame d'honneur to the Queen of Bulgaria; some that she was at Boulogne; and others, at a boarding-house at Cheltenham. Rawdon made her a tolerable annuity, and we may be sure that she was a woman who could make a little money go a great way, as the saying is. He would have paid his debts on leaving England, could he have got any Insurance Office to take his life, but the climate of Coventry Island was so bad that he could borrow no money on the strength of his salary. He remitted, however, to his brother punctually, and wrote to his little boy regularly every mail. He kept Macmurdo in cigars and sent over quantities of shells, cayenne pepper, hot pickles, guava jelly, and colonial produce to Lady Jane. He sent his brother home the Swamp Town Gazette, in which the new Governor was praised with immense enthusiasm; whereas the Swamp Town Sentinel, whose wife was not asked to Government House, declared that his Excellency was a tyrant, compared to whom Nero was an enlightened philanthropist. Little Rawdon used to like to get the papers and read about his Excellency. His mother never made any movement to see the child. He went home to his aunt for Sundays and holidays; he soon knew every bird's nest about Queen's Crawley, and rode out with Sir Huddlestone's hounds, which he admired so on his first well-remembered visit to Hampshire. 第 五 十 五 章    还是本来的题目     隔夜的变故把天不怕地不怕的蓓基弄得狼狈不堪.她昏迷恍惚,沉沉睡到克生街上的教堂打起大钟开始做下午礼拜的时候才一觉醒来.她从床上坐起来,拉着铃子叫她的法国女佣人.几小时以前,她还在女主人身旁伺候呢.     罗登.克劳莱太太打了半天铃子没有人答应.最后一次,她使猛了劲,把铃带子一拉两截,菲菲纳小姐还是不上来.这一下她真冒火了,披着头发,手里拿着拉下来的铃带子,气呼呼的走到楼梯口,扯起嗓子,一次次提着名字叫她,还是没有用.     原来菲菲纳早已走了好几个钟头了,也就是我们所谓像法国人一样的不别而行了(英国人称"不别而行"为"法国式的告辞",法国人也称"不别而行"为"英国式的告辞".).这位小姐先把客厅里的首饰捡起来,回身走到楼上自己屋里收拾了箱子,用绳子捆好,跑出去雇一辆街车,亲自把箱子拿到楼下.她没请别的佣人帮忙(他们都从心里恨她,大概根本不会肯帮忙),也不跟他们告辞,自顾自离开了克生街.     在菲菲纳眼内,这家子已经完蛋,她也就雇辆街车一走拉倒.法国人碰到这种情形往往一走了之,我知道好些比菲菲纳有地位的人行出事来也像她一样.她运气比她一般的同国人好,或许也是凑得巧,临走时不但带着自己的东西,还卷了女主人的财产......不过这些算不算她女主人的财产还是问题.上面说过的首饰给她拿去之外不算,她还偷了几件早已看中的衣服.另外还有四架华丽的路易十四式的镀金蜡台,六本金边纪念册,好些小纪念品和讲究的书籍,一只金底珐琅鼻烟壶(还是杜巴莉夫人(法王路易十五的情妇.)的遗物),一只漂亮的墨水壶,一只装吸墨纸的螺钿架子......蓓基那些写在粉红信笺上的.措辞�砻亩�人的短信,没有这两件法宝就写不成......这几件家当跟着菲菲纳小姐一起离了克生街.桌子上还有银子的杯盘刀叉,原是为筹备隔夜让罗登冲散的小宴会才摆出来的,也给她拿了去.菲菲纳小姐撩下的器皿没一件不笨重.还有火炉旁的铁叉铁棒呀,壁炉架上的镜子呀,花梨木的小钢琴呀,她也没有要,想来是因为携带不方便的缘故.     后来有一位和她非常相像的女士在巴黎杜.海尔德街上开了一家时装店.她的名誉很好,斯丹恩勋爵时常到她那儿去买东西.这女人谈起英国,总说它是全世界最混帐的国家,并且对她手下的学徒们抱怨,说她从前给英国人骗掉了许多钱.斯丹恩侯爵对于这位特.圣.亚玛朗蒂太太照顾得十分周到,想来就是可怜她身世不幸.但愿她善有善报,从此一帆风顺.在我们国内的名利场上,她不再露脸了.     克劳莱太太听得楼下闹营营的分明有人走动,然而佣人们可恶得很,全不听她使唤.她心里生气,匆匆忙忙披上一件晨衣,昂着头走到楼下.说话的声音便从客厅里发出来.     那厨娘乌烟煤嘴,傍着拉哥尔斯太太坐在漂亮的印花布面子的安乐椅上,正在劝拉哥尔斯太太喝樱桃酒.家里的小打杂把手指戳在奶油碗里捞奶油吃.这孩子老穿一件钉圆锥形扣子的号衣,平时的差使就是替蓓基送送粉红信笺写的条子,每逢她出门时站在马车后面伺候着;他上马车的时候那一跳才有劲儿呢.拉哥尔斯满面愁容,神色惶惑,家里的听差正在跟他说话.客厅的门开着,蓓基在几尺之外大声叫唤了六七次,她的底下人竟没一个睬她.她身上裹着白色细绒的晨衣,裙上一层层的褶子.她走到客厅里,听那厨娘说道:"拉哥尔斯太太,喝一点儿吧,喝一点儿吧!"     主妇怒气冲冲的说道:"新泼生!脱劳德!你们听得我叫人为什么不上来?我在这里,你们怎敢坐着!我的丫头在哪儿?"小听差着了忙,把手指头从嘴里拿出来.那时拉哥尔斯太太已经喝够了樱桃酒,那厨娘自己在金边小酒盅里斟上一杯,一面喝,一面睁起眼睛瞪着蓓基,这可恶的婆娘借酒仗着胆子,对主人越发无礼.     厨娘说:"这是你的椅子吗?哼!我坐的是拉哥尔斯太太的椅子.拉哥尔斯太太,您别动.我坐的拉哥尔斯先生和拉哥尔斯太太的椅子,是他们老老实实挣了钱买的,这价钱可不轻!拉哥尔斯太太,我心里正在想,如果我坐在这儿等工钱,可不知道得等到几时呢?我偏坐这儿,哈哈!"说完这话,她又斟了一杯喝着,那副尖酸的嘴脸比以前更难看.     克劳莱太太扯起嗓子尖声嚷道:"脱劳德!新泼生!把这混蛋的酒鬼给我赶出去."     当听差的脱劳德答道:"我可不干,要走还是你自己走.给我工钱,我也走.打量我们愿意呆在这儿吗!"     蓓基怒不可遏的说道:"你们眼内都没有我这主子吗?等到克劳莱上校回来以后,我就......"     所有的佣人一听这话,都哑声大笑起来,只有拉哥尔斯愁眉苦脸,并不和着大家一起笑.脱劳德先生说道:"他不回来了.他叫人回来拿东西,拉哥尔斯先生倒肯给,可是我不答应.我看他也不是什么上校,就跟我不是上校一样.他已经走了,大概你也打算跟着他一块儿去.你们两个简直就是骗子.你别拿大话来压我,我不买账.给我们工钱.我说呀,给我们工钱!"脱劳德先生脸上发红,声调忽高忽低.一望而知他也喝多了酒.     蓓基又气又怒,说道:"拉哥尔斯先生,难道你瞧着那醉鬼顶撞我吗?"小打杂新泼生瞧他太太实在可怜,心里不忍,说道:"脱劳德,别说了,别说了."脱劳德听人说他是醉鬼,大不服气,正要反驳,总算给新泼生劝住了没开口.     拉哥尔斯说道:"唉,太太,我真没想到会有今天.从我生出来到现在,我就和克劳莱一家有交情.我在克劳莱小姐家里当了三十年佣人头儿.没想到本家的子弟反而害得我倾家荡产.嗳,害得我倾家荡产!"这可怜虫眼泪汪汪的说:"您到底给钱不给呢?您住这房子整四年.我的碗盏器皿,上下使用的布料,我所有的东西,全归您受用.牛奶黄油的账已经欠了上两百镑.炒蛋非得新鲜的鸡子儿,小狗还得吃奶油."     厨娘插嘴道:"自己的亲骨肉吃什么她管不管哪?要不是我,孩子不知挨饿挨了多少回了."     "厨娘,他如今在慈善学校求布施呢!"脱劳德先生说着,醉声醉气笑了两声.拉哥尔斯唉声叹气,数落他的不幸.他说的话一些不错,蓓基夫妻两人害得他倾家荡产.下星期的账单他就不能对付.他的家产连铺子带房子全得拍卖出去,无非因为他太信任克劳莱一家.他的眼泪和诉苦使蓓基更加焦躁.     她气恨道:"看来人人跟我作对.你们究竟要怎么样呢?今天是星期日,我不能付钱.明天再来,我一定把账目结清.我以为克劳莱上校早已付过钱了,反正再迟迟不过明天.我把名誉担保,今天早上他离家的时候口袋里还带着一千五百镑钱.他什么都没有留给我,你们要钱得去问他.给我把帽子和披肩拿来,我马上出去找他回来.今天早上我们吵了一架,这件事好像你们都知道.我一言为定,账是一定会付的.他刚得了一个好差使.我现在就出去找他去."     拉哥尔斯和其余在场的人一听她这番大胆无耻的话,惊讶得面面相觑.利蓓加说完这话,撇下他们自顾自上楼去.她没有法国女人帮忙,只好自己穿戴起来.她先到罗登房里,看见一只箱子和一个行囊已经收拾整齐,旁边还有一张用铅笔写的字条,吩咐有人来取行李的时候把这两件东西交出去.然后她走到阁楼上法国女人的卧房里,只见屋子里干干净净,所有的抽屉倒得一物不剩.她想到扔在地上的首饰,猜准那女人卷了东西逃走了.她想:"老天啊!谁还能比我更倒楣呢!刚刚要交大运,偏又落得一场空.不知道现在还有没有挽回的余地."她想了一想,断定目前还有一个机会.     她打扮得停当,一个人出了门,虽然没人伺候,倒也没人拦阻.那时刚四点钟,她没钱雇车,只得急匆匆的往前走,一直到大岗脱街上毕脱.克劳莱爵士门口停下来.吉恩.克劳莱夫人在家吗?门上回说她上教堂了.蓓基并不引以为憾.毕脱爵士呢?他在书房里,吩咐家人不许去打搅他.她说她非见他不可,立刻在穿号衣的门房身旁溜过,一直闯到毕脱爵士的书房里.从男爵大吃一惊,还来不及放下手里的文件,蓓基已经进来了.     他急得脸上通红,又嫌恶又慌张的往后闪.     她说:"毕脱,亲爱的毕脱,别这么着!我是清白无辜的.你从前不是跟我很有交情吗?我对天起誓,我是无辜的.件件事情都对我不利,表面上看起来,竟是我丧失了名节.唉,真不巧,我的打算刚刚有了指望,好日子就在前头,偏来这一下!"     "这么说来,我在报上看见的消息是真的了?"原来毕脱爵士在报上看见一段消息,吃了一大惊.     "可不是真的!星期五晚上,在那个倒楣的跳舞会上,斯丹恩勋爵就把这消息通知我了.这六个月来,上面早就答应让他安插一个人.昨天殖民部的秘书马脱先生通知他说位子已经出来,哪知罗登可可的给地保逮了去,然后就是他回来大闹,闹得不成话说.我错在哪儿啊?还不就是为罗登太尽心尽力吗?在以前,我和斯丹恩爵士两人在一块儿的时候多的是.我也承认有些钱是罗登不知情的.你知道他花钱多么随便,我怎么能把所有的钱都交给他呢?"这样,她编出一套前后连贯的话来,滔滔不绝的讲给大伯子听,弄得他莫名其妙.     蓓基说的话大意是这样的.她痛悔前非,真诚坦白的承认早已看出斯丹恩勋爵对自己很有意思(她一说这话,毕脱脸红了),可是她把握得住自己的贞操,这位权势赫赫的贵人既然对她垂青,她就借此为自己和家里的人从中取利.她说:"毕脱,我原想叫他帮你加官进爵"(她大伯子脸又红了)."我们曾经谈起这件事.你自己有天才,再加上斯丹恩勋爵的力量,简直就有八九成把握.不想这场飞来横祸坏了事.我一向心心念念要把我亲爱的丈夫解脱出来,免得他挨贫受苦,也免得他将来弄得身败名裂.虽然他虐待我,疑心我,我还是爱他的.我看出斯丹恩勋爵喜欢我,"她一面说,一面把眼睛瞧着地下,"我就千方百计得他的欢心.我的行事不失一个良家妇女的身分,可是我的确努力使他......使他器重我.考文脱莱岛上的总督的死讯是星期五早上才到的,勋爵立刻就把我亲爱的丈夫安插上去.我们本来想让他今天自己在报纸上发现这个消息,给他来个意外之喜.就在他给逮捕之后(斯丹恩勋爵慷慨极了,答应替我还债,所以我也就没有立刻去赎我丈夫出来)......就在他逮捕之后,勋爵还笑呢,他说亲爱的罗登在那可怕的牢房......在地保家里看到委任他做总督的消息,不消说是喜欢的.以后......以后他回到家里,忽然犯了疑,结果勋爵和我那铁石心肠的罗登闹得一团糟.哎哟,天哪,不定以后还会闹别的乱子呢.毕脱,亲爱的毕脱!可怜可怜我吧,给我们做个和事佬吧!"说到这里,她跪在地下哀哀痛哭,一把拉住毕脱的手热烈的吻着.     吉恩夫人从教堂里回来,听得说罗登太太在和她丈夫说话,立刻赶到书房里.她进门的当儿,从男爵和他弟妇恰巧就是一个坐着一个跪着.     吉恩夫人面色苍白,四肢索索的抖个不住,发话道:"我想不到这女的还有脸走到我们家里来.像克劳莱太太这样的人,清清白白的人家容不了."那天早饭一完,吉恩夫人就打发她贴身女佣人出去探听消息.那女佣人碰见拉哥尔斯和克劳莱家里的佣人,他们不但把这件事加油添酱的说给她听,还告诉她许多别的事情.     毕脱爵士看见自己老婆这么厉害,惊得呆了.蓓基仍旧跪着,紧拉着毕脱爵士的手.     她呜呜咽咽的道:"亲爱的毕脱,告诉她呀,她不明白里面的详细情形,请你对她说我是清白的."     毕脱爵士说道:"真的,我想你有点儿冤枉克劳莱太太,亲爱的."利蓓加听见这话,心上一块石头落了地."说句老实话,我相信她是......"     吉恩夫人清脆的声音直发抖,她提高了嗓门说道:"相信她是什么?"她一面说话,一颗心突突的跳个不住."她这人不是正经货.她做娘没有心肝,对丈夫也不忠实.她不疼自己的儿子,那小宝贝儿总是跑到我这儿诉苦,说妈妈虐待他.无论她到哪一家,总要搅和得那家子鸡犬不宁.她拍马屁,撒谎哄人,破坏家人之间最神圣的感情,还不可恶吗?她对人没有真心,对丈夫也没有真心.她势利薰心,什么坏事都干得出来.她的灵魂是肮脏的.像这样的人,我自己不敢碰,也不愿意让孩子看见.我......"     毕脱爵士霍的站起来说道:"吉恩夫人!这种话实在......"     吉恩夫人挺身答道:"毕脱爵士,我做妻子的对你一向忠忠心心.结婚的时候咱们当着上帝起过誓,我说到做到,对你温和顺从,克尽妇道.可是正当的顺从是有限度的,我说明白了,我不准那个......那个女人住在我家里.如果她进来,我就带着两个孩子出去.像她这样的人,不配和基督教徒平起平坐.有她就没有我,你自己挑吧!"爵士夫人说到这里,摆起架子昂然出了书房.她行出事来这么辣燥,连自己心里都觉得发慌,利蓓加和毕脱爵士更是大出意外.     蓓基不但不气恼,反而觉得得意.她说:"这是因为你把金刚钻别针送给我的缘故."说着,她伸出手来跟毕脱握手告别.她动身之前,从男爵答应去找他弟弟劝和.不用说,吉恩夫人在楼上梳妆室的窗口等着瞧她出去.     罗登到饭堂的时候,有几个年轻军官已经在吃早饭.他们点的是煎鸡腿和梳打水,确是能够滋补强身的好东西.小伙子们拉他坐,他也半推半就一块儿吃起来.这几位谈论的话题和他们的年龄正相当,并且在星期日谈这些事情也最合适.他们说起下一回在白德西举行的鸽子竞赛会,有的说罗斯会得奖,有的说奥丝卜迪斯登会得奖,下了赌注赌输赢.他们又议论法国歌剧院的亚莉亚纳小姐,说是某某人涮了她,亏得有班脱.卡尔填空档.最后又讲到屠夫和宝贝的拳击比赛,都说这里面恐怕有些不老实的花样.有个叫坦迪门的小伙子,虽然只有十七岁,着实了得,目下正在千方百计留胡子.他看过那次拳击比赛,把两个人的健康情况和交手的经过详详细细描写了一番.当天他亲自赶着马车送屠夫到比赛场去,隔夜还通宵陪着他.他说若不是对方使了不正当的手段,屠夫稳稳的能够得彩.比赛场里的老手都参与这次阴谋,所以坦迪门不肯认输,不愿意出钱,决不愿意出钱!这位小军官如今在克立白酒店里算得上老资格,可是一年之前,他对于牛奶糖还未能忘情,那时他在伊顿公学读书,常常挨打.     他们接着谈论舞女娼妓,打拳喝酒.后来麦克墨笃下来了,便也加入他们一块儿高谈阔论.他并不觉得对于青年人说话应该有所顾忌.他说的故事,和在场年纪最小的浮浪子弟所说的一样精采,既不怕伤了自己有年纪人的体面,也不顾坏了年轻人的心术.麦克老头儿说故事的本领是有名的.他不是在小姐太太面前用功夫的男人,朋友们只带他上情妇的家里吃饭,不请他到母亲家里去赴宴会.他从来不上台盘,朋友们谁都比他高贵些,亏得他本人乐天安命,没半点儿虚骄之气,自顾自老老实实,快快活活的做人.     麦克吃了一餐丰盛的早饭.那时别人已经先吃完了.年轻的伐里那斯勋爵叼着个大大的海泡石烟斗;休斯上尉抽雪茄;坦迪门这小鬼是一刻不得安静的,一有机会就赌,正在用尽力气抛小银洋和杜西斯上尉两个打赌,他那条小狗给夹在他两腿中间.麦克和罗登从营里步行到俱乐部.他们跟大伙儿一起有说有笑,对于心里牵挂的事,一字不提.别人说得高兴的当儿,何必打断他们的谈话呢?吃喝.说笑.讲粗话,正和名利场中其他的事情一样,也得继续下去.罗登和他朋友沿着圣詹姆士街走到俱乐部的时候,一群群的人刚从教堂里散出来.     俱乐部里有一批常客,有好些是过时的花花公子.这班人老爱站在沿马路的大窗子前面闲眺,一忽儿嬉皮笑脸,一忽儿目瞪口呆;那天这些人还没有到,他们的位子全空着.阅报室里只有寥寥的几个人.里面有一个是罗登不认得的,有一个曾经和他玩忽斯脱赢过他一些钱,赌账没有付清,所以罗登躲着不愿意跟他招呼.还有一个靠着桌子看《保皇党员》的星期特辑.这份刊物出名的忠于国王和教会,专登伤风败俗的新闻.这人抬起头来,很有含蓄的对克劳莱瞧了一眼,说道:"克劳莱,恭喜你."     上校道:"你这话什么意思?"     斯密斯先生答道:"这消息在《观察者》和《保皇党员》都发表了."     罗登满面通红,嚷道:"什么!"他以为他和斯丹恩勋爵的一段纠葛已经闹穿,战战兢兢的拿起报纸来看,斯密斯先生见他这么激动,有些诧异,抬起头来瞧着他微微的笑.     斯密斯先生和白朗先生(就是和罗登赌账未清的那一位)在上校进门以前正在谈论他.     斯密斯说:"这件差使来得正合适,我看克劳莱穷得一文不名了."     白朗说:"这真是一阵好风,吹来的福气人人有份.他还欠我一匹小马,动身以前总得还我."     斯密斯问道:"薪水有多少呢?"     白朗答道:"两三千镑一年.可是气候太坏,他们也受用不了多少时候的.里佛西奇去了一年半就死了.他的前任听说只做了一个半月就送了命."     斯密斯嚷道:"有些人说他哥哥厉害,我可觉得他语言无味.不过他一定有相当的势力,上校的位子准是他谋来的."     白朗冷笑道:"他谋来的!得了吧.斯丹恩勋爵给安插的."     "你这话是什么意思呀?"     白朗一面看报,一面打着闷葫芦说道:"贤慧妇人是丈夫的光荣."     罗登在《保皇党员》上看到下面一段令人惊奇的新闻:     考文脱莱岛新总督即将上任......皇家邮船雅鲁贾克船长江特斯少校最近从考文脱莱岛携回信札文件多种,此间由是得悉赫.依.汤姆士.里佛西奇爵士不幸传染当地流行热病,已在斯汪浦登逝世.繁荣的殖民地上的各界人士,莫不深表哀悼.据悉总督一职将由下级骑士罗登.克劳莱上校接任.克劳莱上校在滑铁卢战役曾有杰出的战绩.统辖殖民地的长官不但应有过人的勇气,并须有特出的行政才能.预料此次由殖民部委任的克劳莱上校对于考文莱脱总督一职定能胜任愉快.     麦克墨笃上尉笑道:"考文莱脱岛在哪儿啊?这差使到底是谁派给你的?好小子,你把我带去做秘书罢!"罗登和他朋友坐着细看这条新闻,猜了半天摸不着头脑.正在这当儿,俱乐部里的茶房走来递了一张名片给克劳莱上校,上面写着威纳姆先生的名字,说是这位先生要见他.     上校和他的助手断定威纳姆是斯丹恩打发来的,便一同出去见客.威纳姆先生满面堆笑,很亲热的拉着克劳莱的手说道:"你好啊,克劳莱?"     "我想你是代表......"     威纳姆先生道:"对极了."     "既然如此,请让我介绍我的朋友麦克墨笃上尉,现在在绿衣禁卫军中服务."     "啊,麦克墨笃上尉,我有缘跟您见面,觉得十分荣幸,"威纳姆先生说着,照他刚才招呼当事人的态度,笑眯眯的,跟麦克墨笃拉了一拉手.麦克只伸出来一个手指头,手上还戴着黄皮手套没脱掉.他冷冷的向威纳姆先生弯一弯腰;那天他的领带太紧,鞠躬的态度分外显得僵硬.说不定他觉得斯丹恩勋爵至少应该打发一个上校来传话,叫他和一个平民老百姓打交道,他是不乐意的.     克劳莱道:"麦克墨笃是我的代表,我的意思问他就知道.我看我还是走出去让你们两个谈一谈."     麦克墨笃道:"当然."     威纳姆先生道:"不必不必,亲爱的上校,我的目的是和您本人谈一下,如果麦克墨笃上尉不嫌弃我,当然欢迎.说真话,上尉,我希望经过这次谈话得到很愉快的结果,跟我的朋友克劳莱上校所预料的完全不同."     麦克墨笃道:"��!"他心里暗想:"哼!这些老百姓个个喜欢说空话,管闲事."威纳姆不等人请,自己坐下来,从口袋里掏出一张纸,说道:"上校,今天早上报纸上发表的差强人意的消息,想来你已经看见了.在政府一方面,收罗了一个有用的人才,在你一方面:如果你接受委任给你的职务,也得到一个很好的位子.我想你是没什么不愿意的.一年有三千镑的收入,天气又舒服,总督府的房子又整齐,在殖民地上一切由你做主,将来还准能高升.我全心向你道喜.我想你们两位一定知道这是谁的恩典."     上尉道:"我怎么会知道."上校把个脸涨得通红.     "你的恩人是天下最忠厚.最慷慨的,数一数二的大人物.也就是我的好朋友斯丹恩侯爵."     罗登放粗了喉咙嚷嚷道:"见他的鬼!我才不希罕他的位子."     威纳姆先生不动声色的说道:"请你把态度放公正一点,也请你用用常识.我竟不明白你究竟为什么缘故跟我那高贵的朋友生气."     罗登诧异极了,高声说道:"为什么缘故?"     上尉把手杖敲着地下,说道:"为什么缘故?哼!"     威纳姆满面春风,答道:"就是那话儿了.其实呢,假如你是老于世故的,或者是存心忠厚的,一看就知道错处在你.你从外头回到家里,看见......看见什么呢?看见斯丹恩勋爵在克生街和克劳莱太太一块儿吃晚饭.这件事有什么稀奇,有什么不得了?这种情形是向来有的.我是个君子人,说的话一老一实,我把自己的名誉担保,"说到这里,威纳姆先生把手按着背心,活像在议院里演说,"我认为你的猜疑真是荒谬绝伦,全无根据.对你关怀得无微不至的恩人是位有体面的君子人,你的太太更是白璧无瑕,你这一下子实在对不起他们."     麦克墨笃说道:"你的意思,难道是说......克劳莱弄错了吗?"     威纳姆切切实实的答道:"我相信克劳莱太太和我自己的老婆一样清白.我相信我的朋友克劳莱全是因为吃醋吃得太厉害,所以不问是非出手伤人,把那位年老力衰.声望极高,而且平时不断照顾他的恩人打了一顿.不但如此,他又冤枉了自己的妻子,丢了自己的面子.这一下少不得会牵累他儿子将来的名声,连他自己的前途也会受影响."     威纳姆一本正经的接着说道:"让我把情形说一说.今天早上斯丹恩勋爵把我找了去.他的情形真太惨了.这话我也不必跟克劳莱上校说,你想,一个衰弱的老头儿跟你这样的大力士交过手以后,有不受伤的吗?克劳莱上校,不是我当面说你,你这样恃强打人,可真太狠心了.我的高贵的好朋友非但身体受伤,他的心,先生,他的心也在流血呀!他所喜欢的,又是平时受他栽培的人,竟会这样不留余地的糟蹋他!今天早上报上发表了政府委任你做总督的消息,这岂不就证明他对你的爱护吗?今天早晨我看见勋爵的时候,他真可怜.他也像你一样,急着要报仇,要用血来洗清他受到的侮辱.我想你知道他的勇敢是大家公认的,克劳莱."     上校道:"他的确有胆量.谁也没批评他缺少勇气."     "他第一道命令就是叫我写一封挑战书给克劳莱上校.他说昨天晚上发生的事太气人了,非得跟克劳莱拚个你死我活."     克劳莱点点头道:"威纳姆,你这就说到本题了."     "我使尽方法叫斯丹恩侯爵平下气来.我说:'天啊,我真懊悔,早知如此,我和威纳姆太太一定接受了克劳莱太太的邀请,到她家吃晚饭了.,"     麦克墨笃道:"她请你们夫妇吃晚饭吗?"     "对呀,就在看完歌剧以后.喏,这就是请帖......嗳呀......不是......这是另外一张纸,我还以为我带在身边呢.反正这没多大关系,我保证我说的全是真话.如果我们去了的话......只怪威纳姆太太又闹头痛......她一到春天就闹头痛......如果我们去了的话,那么你回家的时候决不会犯疑,也不至于出口伤人,和勋爵吵起架来.你瞧,就因为我那可怜的老婆犯了头痛,你就非要让两位体面的人物冒性命的危险.你们两家是国内最高尚的旧世家,这一闹不但扫尽面子,而且还会引起更大的不幸."     麦克墨笃先生弄得莫名其妙,傻登登的瞧着他的朋友.罗登眼看掌中之物快要从他手里滑掉,勃然大怒.威纳姆的一席话他一个字都不相信,可是却没法揭穿他,证明他在扯谎.     威纳姆施展出在议院演说的口才,滔滔汩汩的说下去道:"我在斯丹恩勋爵床旁边坐了一个多钟头,再三央求他不要找你决斗.我解释给他听,我说当时的情形确实令人起疑......确实令人起疑.我承认,在你的地位上,是很容易误会的.我说一个人妒火中烧的时候,事实上就是个疯子,不能那他的一举一动当真.我说你们两人如果决斗的话,反而大家丢脸,我说当今时世已经有许多要不得的革命理论,在下等人里面流传,教他们闹什么阶级平等,这趋势是够危险的,因此像他勋爵那么位高望重的人物,不应该把这件不雅的事情闹得众人皆知.就算他是平白无辜的,可是普通一般的人总要怪他呀.总而言之,我求他不要送挑战书."     罗登咬牙切齿的说道:"你说的话我一句也不信.从头儿到尾是你胡扯,而且你也是同谋,威纳姆先生.如果他不送挑战书给我,那就让我送给他也行!"     上校插口说话的时候来势凶猛,吓得威纳姆先生脸如土色,两只眼睛只顾瞧着门口.     亏得麦克墨笃撑他的腰.这位先生站起身来,赌咒罚誓,责备罗登不该出言无状.他说道:"你既然把这件事交给我办,就得听我吩咐,不能自作主张.你说这种粗暴无礼的话侮辱威纳姆先生,就是你的不是了.威纳姆先生,他应该向你道歉才对.如果你要给斯丹恩勋爵送挑战书,请你找别的人,我可不去.如果勋爵挨了打愿意不还手,那还不好吗?至于他和......和克劳莱太太的事,我认为根本没有凭据.你的太太是清白的,就像威纳姆说的那样清白.不管怎么着,我劝你闲话少说,赶快把位子接下来,要不然你就是个大傻瓜."     威纳姆先生一块石头落地,高声说道:"麦克墨笃先生,听你说话,就知道你是明白人.克劳莱上校气头上的话,我决不计较."     罗登冷笑道:"我早就知道你自己会收篷."     上尉和颜悦色的说道:"别多嘴,你这糊涂蛋.威纳姆先生是向来不跟人打架的,我认为他的行事很有道理."     斯丹恩的使者大声说道:"我认为大家该把这次的事件忘得干干净净,不要让一字一句传到这重门外面去.我说这话一方面为我朋友打算,一方面也为克劳莱上校着想,虽然上校硬说我是他的冤家."     麦克墨笃上尉说道:"看来斯丹恩勋爵是不会多嘴的,我们这方面也不必再提.不管你怎么解释,这件事听起来总有点心不雅,所以还是少说为妙.反正挨打的是你们,不是我们,既然你们善罢甘休,那么我看我们也没什么可抱怨的了."     话说到此地,威纳姆先生拿起帽子准备回去.麦克墨笃送到门口,把气呼呼的罗登关在屋里,自己跟出来.门关上以后,麦克墨笃紧紧的瞧着对方的代表,他那兴致蓬勃的圆脸上的表情可不大恭敬.     他说:"威纳姆先生,你倒是不拘小节的."     威纳姆微笑道:"好说,好说,麦克墨笃先生.我把名誉和良心担保,克劳莱太太在看完歌剧以后的确请我们吃晚饭来着."     "当然!只怪威纳姆太太又闹头痛.我这儿有一千镑,请你给我一张收条,我这就把钱封在信封里,让你转交斯丹恩勋爵.我的人不跟他决斗,可是我们不愿意拿他的钱."     威纳姆做出一老一实的样子说:"这是误会......整个儿是误会,亲爱的先生."当下麦克墨笃上尉躬着身子在俱乐部门前和他告别.威纳姆下台阶的时候,毕脱爵士恰巧走上来.这两位先生以前也曾经见过几面.上尉一面把从男爵领到他弟弟那儿去,一路上偷偷告诉他说斯丹恩勋爵和上校两人中间的纠葛,他已经给解决了.     毕脱爵士听了这消息当然觉得很高兴.他满腔热忱给弟弟道喜,庆幸这件事情居然和平解决.他发挥一番又得体又含教训的议论,批评决斗的害处,并且说用这种方式来解决争端是非常不妥当的.     这篇话只算开场白,接着他大展口才打算给罗登夫妇俩劝和.他扼要地把蓓基的话重述了一遍,表示他自己认为她的话大致可靠,相信她是清白无辜的.     可是罗登把他的话置之不理.他说:"这十年来她一直在偷偷的藏私房.昨天晚上她还赌神罚誓说她没有拿过斯丹恩勋爵的钱.那笔款子给我找到以后,她马上知道什么都闹穿了.毕脱,就算这次她是清白的,她的罪名也不能因此减低.我不愿意见她......永远也不要见她."说罢,他低下了头,满脸是伤心绝望的表情.     麦克墨笃摇摇头说:"可怜的家伙."     起初罗登.克劳莱不愿接受这么一个混帐东西替他谋来的位置,并且主张叫孩子退学,因为当初小罗登进学校全仗斯丹恩勋爵的力量.他哥哥和麦克墨笃两人再三央求,他才答应不放弃这些权利.这主要还是麦克墨笃的功劳,他对罗登说斯丹恩想起自己白费力气,反叫仇人沾光,一定气个半死.     斯丹恩侯爵在这次事变以后重新露面的时候,殖民部的秘书恭而敬之的来见他,颂扬他选拔得人,庆幸殖民地上得到这么贤明的长官.斯丹恩勋爵听了这些称赞心里有多么感激,大概你也想得出来.     正像威纳姆所说的,勋爵和克劳莱上校的一场冲突已经给忘得干干净净.也就是说,这次事件中的主角和配角绝口不提它.至于在名利场上呢,当晚就有五十来个宴会上大家纷纷谈论这件事.克拉格儿贝这小伙子亲自出马,一晚晌走了七家宴会,把新闻讲给大家听,到一处加一些润色和批评.华盛顿.华爱脱太太心里那份痛快说也说不尽.以林主教夫人觉得这事伤风败俗,愤慨得不得了.主教当天就到岗脱大厦去在宾客签名本上留了名字.莎吴塞唐很难受;他的妹妹吉恩夫人当然也很难受.莎吴塞唐老夫人写了一封信到好望角给她的大女儿.这件新闻轰动全城,伦敦人议论纷纷,至少谈了三整天.滑格先生受了威纳姆先生的嘱咐,着实奔走了一番,才算没让这消息登上报纸.     说也可怜,克生街上的拉哥尔斯落在地保和掮客手里.从前住在这所公馆里的美人儿却不知去向了.反正她的行踪无人过问,过了一两天,谁还管这些闲账?那么她究竟有没有干下什么丑事呢?我们知道世上的人心胸多么宽大,我们也知道名利场中对于这类的疑案有什么舆论.有人说她追随在斯丹恩勋爵之后,到拿波里去了.有人说勋爵风闻蓓基追踪而去,立刻逃到巴勒莫.有人说她住在比厄斯大脱,做了保加利亚皇后的侍从女官.有人说她在波罗涅.又有人说她就住在契尔顿纳姆的一家寄宿舍里.     罗登给她一笔年金,勉强可以过日子,反正她会精打细算,花钱是俭省不过的.如果有保险公司肯给罗登保寿险的话,他离开英国之前准会把积欠还清.无奈考文脱莱岛上的气候太坏,虽然他把将来的薪水作抵押,也没人肯借钱给他.他汇给哥哥的款子每回准时寄到,每班邮船也总有他写给儿子的信.他经常供给麦克墨笃雪茄烟,又送给吉恩夫人许多殖民地上的出品,像贝壳.胡椒.辣菜.石榴酱等等.他定了一份《斯汪浦城公报》给哥哥看,报上把新总督大捧特捧.还有一份报叫《斯汪浦城步哨》,总督府请客的时候漏掉了那编辑的太太,因此报上指责他行事专制暴虐,说是跟他一比之下,尼罗王(尼罗(Ｎｅｒｏ,公元前３７—６８),罗马著名的暴君.)算得上开明的慈善家.小罗登最喜欢阅读报纸上谈到他大人的文章.     小罗登的母亲并不想法子和孩子见面.他每逢星期日和假期总回到大娘家里.不久之后,女王的克劳莱庄地上所有的鸟窝他全看过了,而且常常骑着马跟赫特尔斯顿爵士的猎狗出去打猎.他第一次到汉泊郡作客的时候就十分赏识这群猎狗,那一回下乡的情景,他始终记得清清楚楚.

CHAPTER LVI Georgy is Made a Gentleman Georgy Osborne was now fairly established in his grandfather's mansion in Russell Square, occupant of his father's room in the house and heir apparent of all the splendours there. The good looks, gallant bearing, and gentlemanlike appearance of the boy won the grandsire's heart for him. Mr. Osborne was as proud of him as ever he had been of the elder George. The child had many more luxuries and indulgences than had been awarded his father. Osborne's commerce had prospered greatly of late years. His wealth and importance in the City had very much increased. He had been glad enough in former days to put the elder George to a good private school; and a commission in the army for his son had been a source of no small pride to him; for little George and his future prospects the old man looked much higher. He would make a gentleman of the little chap, was Mr. Osborne's constant saying regarding little Georgy. He saw him in his mind's eye, a collegian, a Parliament man, a Baronet, perhaps. The old man thought he would die contented if he could see his grandson in a fair way to such honours. He would have none but a tip-top college man to educate him--none of your quacks and pretenders--no, no. A few years before, he used to be savage, and inveigh against all parsons, scholars, and the like declaring that they were a pack of humbugs, and quacks that weren't fit to get their living but by grinding Latin and Greek, and a set of supercilious dogs that pretended to look down upon British merchants and gentlemen, who could buy up half a hundred of 'em. He would mourn now, in a very solemn manner, that his own education had been neglected, and repeatedly point out, in pompous orations to Georgy, the necessity and excellence of classical acquirements. When they met at dinner the grandsire used to ask the lad what he had been reading during the day, and was greatly interested at the report the boy gave of his own studies, pretending to understand little George when he spoke regarding them. He made a hundred blunders and showed his ignorance many a time. It did not increase the respect which the child had for his senior. A quick brain and a better education elsewhere showed the boy very soon that his grandsire was a dullard, and he began accordingly to command him and to look down upon him; for his previous education, humble and contracted as it had been, had made a much better gentleman of Georgy than any plans of his grandfather could make him. He had been brought up by a kind, weak, and tender woman, who had no pride about anything but about him, and whose heart was so pure and whose bearing was so meek and humble that she could not but needs be a true lady. She busied herself in gentle offices and quiet duties; if she never said brilliant things, she never spoke or thought unkind ones; guileless and artless, loving and pure, indeed how could our poor little Amelia be other than a real gentlewoman! Young Georgy lorded over this soft and yielding nature; and the contrast of its simplicity and delicacy with the coarse pomposity of the dull old man with whom he next came in contact made him lord over the latter too. If he had been a Prince Royal he could not have been better brought up to think well of himself. Whilst his mother was yearning after him at home, and I do believe every hour of the day, and during most hours of the sad lonely nights, thinking of him, this young gentleman had a number of pleasures and consolations administered to him, which made him for his part bear the separation from Amelia very easily. Little boys who cry when they are going to school cry because they are going to a very uncomfortable place. It is only a few who weep from sheer affection. When you think that the eyes of your childhood dried at the sight of a piece of gingerbread, and that a plum cake was a compensation for the agony of parting with your mamma and sisters, oh my friend and brother, you need not be too confident of your own fine feelings. Well, then, Master George Osborne had every comfort and luxury that a wealthy and lavish old grandfather thought fit to provide. The coachman was instructed to purchase for him the handsomest pony which could be bought for money, and on this George was taught to ride, first at a riding-school, whence, after having performed satisfactorily without stirrups, and over the leaping-bar, he was conducted through the New Road to Regent's Park, and then to Hyde Park, where he rode in state with Martin the coachman behind him. Old Osborne, who took matters more easily in the City now, where he left his affairs to his junior partners, would often ride out with Miss O. in the same fashionable direction. As little Georgy came cantering up with his dandified air and his heels down, his grandfather would nudge the lad's aunt and say, "Look, Miss O." And he would laugh, and his face would grow red with pleasure, as he nodded out of the window to the boy, as the groom saluted the carriage, and the footman saluted Master George. Here too his aunt, Mrs. Frederick Bullock (whose chariot might daily be seen in the Ring, with bullocks or emblazoned on the panels and harness, and three pasty-faced little Bullocks, covered with cockades and feathers, staring from the windows) Mrs. Frederick Bullock, I say, flung glances of the bitterest hatred at the little upstart as he rode by with his hand on his side and his hat on one ear, as proud as a lord. Though he was scarcely eleven years of age, Master George wore straps and the most beautiful little boots like a man. He had gilt spurs, and a gold-headed whip, and a fine pin in his handkerchief, and the neatest little kid gloves which Lamb's Conduit Street could furnish. His mother had given him a couple of neckcloths, and carefully hemmed and made some little shirts for him; but when her Eli came to see the widow, they were replaced by much finer linen. He had little jewelled buttons in the lawn shirt fronts. Her humble presents had been put aside--I believe Miss Osborne had given them to the coachman's boy. Amelia tried to think she was pleased at the change. Indeed, she was happy and charmed to see the boy looking so beautiful. She had had a little black profile of him done for a shilling, and this was hung up by the side of another portrait over her bed. One day the boy came on his accustomed visit, galloping down the little street at Brompton, and bringing, as usual, all the inhabitants to the windows to admire his splendour, and with great eagerness and a look of triumph in his face, he pulled a case out of his great-coat --it was a natty white great-coat, with a cape and a velvet collar-- pulled out a red morocco case, which he gave her. "I bought it with my own money, Mamma," he said. "I thought you'd like it." Amelia opened the case, and giving a little cry of delighted affection, seized the boy and embraced him a hundred times. It was a miniature-of himself, very prettily done (though not half handsome enough, we may be sure, the widow thought). His grandfather had wished to have a picture of him by an artist whose works, exhibited in a shop-window, in Southampton Row, had caught the old gentleman's eye; and George, who had plenty of money, bethought him of asking the painter how much a copy of the little portrait would cost, saying that he would pay for it out of his own money and that he wanted to give it to his mother. The pleased painter executed it for a small price, and old Osborne himself, when he heard of the incident, growled out his satisfaction and gave the boy twice as many sovereigns as he paid for the miniature. But what was the grandfather's pleasure compared to Amelia's ecstacy? That proof of the boy's affection charmed her so that she thought no child in the world was like hers for goodness. For long weeks after, the thought of his love made her happy. She slept better with the picture under her pillow, and how many many times did she kiss it and weep and pray over it! A small kindness from those she loved made that timid heart grateful. Since her parting with George she had had no such joy and consolation. At his new home Master George ruled like a lord; at dinner he invited the ladies to drink wine with the utmost coolness, and took off his champagne in a way which charmed his old grandfather. "Look at him," the old man would say, nudging his neighbour with a delighted purple face, "did you ever see such a chap? Lord, Lord! he'll be ordering a dressing-case next, and razors to shave with; I'm blessed if he won't." The antics of the lad did not, however, delight Mr. Osborne's friends so much as they pleased the old gentleman. It gave Mr. Justice Coffin no pleasure to hear Georgy cut into the conversation and spoil his stories. Colonel Fogey was not interested in seeing the little boy half tipsy. Mr. Sergeant Toffy's lady felt no particular gratitude, when, with a twist of his elbow, he tilted a glass of port-wine over her yellow satin and laughed at the disaster; nor was she better pleased, although old Osborne was highly delighted, when Georgy "whopped" her third boy (a young gentleman a year older than Georgy, and by chance home for the holidays from Dr. Tickleus's at Ealing School) in Russell Square. George's grandfather gave the boy a couple of sovereigns for that feat and promised to reward him further for every boy above his own size and age whom he whopped in a similar manner. It is difficult to say what good the old man saw in these combats; he had a vague notion that quarrelling made boys hardy, and that tyranny was a useful accomplishment for them to learn. English youth have been so educated time out of mind, and we have hundreds of thousands of apologists and admirers of injustice, misery, and brutality, as perpetrated among children. Flushed with praise and victory over Master Toffy, George wished naturally to pursue his conquests further, and one day as he was strutting about in prodigiously dandified new clothes, near St. Pancras, and a young baker's boy made sarcastic comments upon his appearance, the youthful patrician pulled off his dandy jacket with great spirit, and giving it in charge to the friend who accompanied him (Master Todd, of Great Coram Street, Russell Square, son of the junior partner of the house of Osborne and Co.), George tried to whop the little baker. But the chances of war were unfavourable this time, and the little baker whopped Georgy, who came home with a rueful black eye and all his fine shirt frill dabbled with the claret drawn from his own little nose. He told his grandfather that he had been in combat with a giant, and frightened his poor mother at Brompton with long, and by no means authentic, accounts of the battle. This young Todd, of Coram Street, Russell Square, was Master George's great friend and admirer. They both had a taste for painting theatrical characters; for hardbake and raspberry tarts; for sliding and skating in the Regent's Park and the Serpentine, when the weather permitted; for going to the play, whither they were often conducted, by Mr. Osborne's orders, by Rowson, Master George's appointed body-servant, with whom they sat in great comfort in the pit. In the company of this gentleman they visited all the principal theatres of the metropolis; knew the names of all the actors from Drury Lane to Sadler's Wells; and performed, indeed, many of the plays to the Todd family and their youthful friends, with West's famous characters, on their pasteboard theatre. Rowson, the footman, who was of a generous disposition, would not unfrequently, when in cash, treat his young master to oysters after the play, and to a glass of rum-shrub for a night-cap. We may be pretty certain that Mr. Rowson profited in his turn by his young master's liberality and gratitude for the pleasures to which the footman inducted him. A famous tailor from the West End of the town--Mr. Osborne would have none of your City or Holborn bunglers, he said, for the boy (though a City tailor was good enough for HIM)--was summoned to ornament little George's person, and was told to spare no expense in so doing. So, Mr. Woolsey, of Conduit Street, gave a loose to his imagination and sent the child home fancy trousers, fancy waistcoats, and fancy jackets enough to furnish a school of little dandies. Georgy had little white waistcoats for evening parties, and little cut velvet waistcoats for dinners, and a dear little darling shawl dressing-gown, for all the world like a little man. He dressed for dinner every day, "like a regular West End swell," as his grandfather remarked; one of the domestics was affected to his special service, attended him at his toilette, answered his bell, and brought him his letters always on a silver tray. Georgy, after breakfast, would sit in the arm-chair in the dining- room and read the Morning Post, just like a grown-up man. "How he DU dam and swear," the servants would cry, delighted at his precocity. Those who remembered the Captain his father, declared Master George was his Pa, every inch of him. He made the house lively by his activity, his imperiousness, his scolding, and his good-nature. George's education was confided to a neighbouring scholar and private pedagogue who "prepared young noblemen and gentlemen for the Universities, the senate, and the learned professions: whose system did not embrace the degrading corporal severities still practised at the ancient places of education, and in whose family the pupils would find the elegances of refined society and the confidence and affection of a home." It was in this way that the Reverend Lawrence Veal of Hart Street, Bloomsbury, and domestic Chaplain to the Earl of Bareacres, strove with Mrs. Veal his wife to entice pupils. By thus advertising and pushing sedulously, the domestic Chaplain and his Lady generally succeeded in having one or two scholars by them--who paid a high figure and were thought to be in uncommonly comfortable quarters. There was a large West Indian, whom nobody came to see, with a mahogany complexion, a woolly head, and an exceedingly dandyfied appearance; there was another hulking boy of three-and-twenty whose education had been neglected and whom Mr. and Mrs. Veal were to introduce into the polite world; there were two sons of Colonel Bangles of the East India Company's Service: these four sat down to dinner at Mrs. Veal's genteel board, when Georgy was introduced to her establishment. Georgy was, like some dozen other pupils, only a day boy; he arrived in the morning under the guardianship of his friend Mr. Rowson, and if it was fine, would ride away in the afternoon on his pony, followed by the groom. The wealth of his grandfather was reported in the school to be prodigious. The Rev. Mr. Veal used to compliment Georgy upon it personally, warning him that he was destined for a high station; that it became him to prepare, by sedulity and docility in youth, for the lofty duties to which he would be called in mature age; that obedience in the child was the best preparation for command in the man; and that he therefore begged George would not bring toffee into the school and ruin the health of the Masters Bangles, who had everything they wanted at the elegant and abundant table of Mrs. Veal. With respect to learning, "the Curriculum," as Mr. Veal loved to call it, was of prodigious extent, and the young gentlemen in Hart Street might learn a something of every known science. The Rev. Mr. Veal had an orrery, an electrifying machine, a turning lathe, a theatre (in the wash-house), a chemical apparatus, and what he called a select library of all the works of the best authors of ancient and modern times and languages. He took the boys to the British Museum and descanted upon the antiquities and the specimens of natural history there, so that audiences would gather round him as he spoke, and all Bloomsbury highly admired him as a prodigiously well-informed man. And whenever he spoke (which he did almost always), he took care to produce the very finest and longest words of which the vocabulary gave him the use, rightly judging that it was as cheap to employ a handsome, large, and sonorous epithet, as to use a little stingy one. Thus he would say to George in school, "I observed on my return home from taking the indulgence of an evening's scientific conversation with my excellent friend Doctor Bulders--a true archaeologian, gentlemen, a true archaeologian--that the windows of your venerated grandfather's almost princely mansion in Russell Square were illuminated as if for the purposes of festivity. Am I right in my conjecture that Mr. Osborne entertained a society of chosen spirits round his sumptuous board last night?" Little Georgy, who had considerable humour, and used to mimic Mr. Veal to his face with great spirit and dexterity, would reply that Mr. V. was quite correct in his surmise. "Then those friends who had the honour of partaking of Mr. Osborne's hospitality, gentlemen, had no reason, I will lay any wager, to complain of their repast. I myself have been more than once so favoured. (By the way, Master Osborne, you came a little late this morning, and have been a defaulter in this respect more than once.) I myself, I say, gentlemen, humble as I am, have been found not unworthy to share Mr. Osborne's elegant hospitality. And though I have feasted with the great and noble of the world--for I presume that I may call my excellent friend and patron, the Right Honourable George Earl of Bareacres, one of the number--yet I assure you that the board of the British merchant was to the full as richly served, and his reception as gratifying and noble. Mr. Bluck, sir, we will resume, if you please, that passage of Eutropis, which was interrupted by the late arrival of Master Osborne." To this great man George's education was for some time entrusted. Amelia was bewildered by his phrases, but thought him a prodigy of learning. That poor widow made friends of Mrs. Veal, for reasons of her own. She liked to be in the house and see Georgy coming to school there. She liked to be asked to Mrs. Veal's conversazioni, which took place once a month (as you were informed on pink cards, with AOHNH engraved on them), and where the professor welcomed his pupils and their friends to weak tea and scientific conversation. Poor little Amelia never missed one of these entertainments and thought them delicious so long as she might have Georgy sitting by her. And she would walk from Brompton in any weather, and embrace Mrs. Veal with tearful gratitude for the delightful evening she had passed, when, the company having retired and Georgy gone off with Mr. Rowson, his attendant, poor Mrs. Osborne put on her cloaks and her shawls preparatory to walking home. As for the learning which Georgy imbibed under this valuable master of a hundred sciences, to judge from the weekly reports which the lad took home to his grandfather, his progress was remarkable. The names of a score or more of desirable branches of knowledge were printed in a table, and the pupil's progress in each was marked by the professor. In Greek Georgy was pronounced aristos, in Latin optimus, in French tres bien, and so forth; and everybody had prizes for everything at the end of the year. Even Mr. Swartz, the wooly- headed young gentleman, and half-brother to the Honourable Mrs. Mac Mull, and Mr. Bluck, the neglected young pupil of three-and-twenty from the agricultural district, and that idle young scapegrace of a Master Todd before mentioned, received little eighteen-penny books, with "Athene" engraved on them, and a pompous Latin inscription from the professor to his young friends. The family of this Master Todd were hangers-on of the house of Osborne. The old gentleman had advanced Todd from being a clerk to be a junior partner in his establishment. Mr. Osborne was the godfather of young Master Todd (who in subsequent life wrote Mr. Osborne Todd on his cards and became a man of decided fashion), while Miss Osborne had accompanied Miss Maria Todd to the font, and gave her protegee a prayer-book, a collection of tracts, a volume of very low church poetry, or some such memento of her goodness every year. Miss O. drove the Todds out in her carriage now and then; when they were ill, her footman, in large plush smalls and waistcoat, brought jellies and delicacies from Russell Square to Coram Street. Coram Street trembled and looked up to Russell Square indeed, and Mrs. Todd, who had a pretty hand at cutting out paper trimmings for haunches of mutton, and could make flowers, ducks, &c., out of turnips and carrots in a very creditable manner, would go to "the Square," as it was called, and assist in the preparations incident to a great dinner, without even so much as thinking of sitting down to the banquet. If any guest failed at the eleventh hour, Todd was asked to dine. Mrs. Todd and Maria came across in the evening, slipped in with a muffled knock, and were in the drawing-room by the time Miss Osborne and the ladies under her convoy reached that apartment--and ready to fire off duets and sing until the gentlemen came up. Poor Maria Todd; poor young lady! How she had to work and thrum at these duets and sonatas in the Street, before they appeared in public in the Square! Thus it seemed to be decreed by fate that Georgy was to domineer over everybody with whom he came in contact, and that friends, relatives, and domestics were all to bow the knee before the little fellow. It must be owned that he accommodated himself very willingly to this arrangement. Most people do so. And Georgy liked to play the part of master and perhaps had a natural aptitude for it. In Russell Square everybody was afraid of Mr. Osborne, and Mr. Osborne was afraid of Georgy. The boy's dashing manners, and offhand rattle about books and learning, his likeness to his father (dead unreconciled in Brussels yonder) awed the old gentleman and gave the young boy the mastery. The old man would start at some hereditary feature or tone unconsciously used by the little lad, and fancy that George's father was again before him. He tried by indulgence to the grandson to make up for harshness to the elder George. People were surprised at his gentleness to the boy. He growled and swore at Miss Osborne as usual, and would smile when George came down late for breakfast. Miss Osborne, George's aunt, was a faded old spinster, broken down by more than forty years of dulness and coarse usage. It was easy for a lad of spirit to master her. And whenever George wanted anything from her, from the jam-pots in her cupboards to the cracked and dry old colours in her paint-box (the old paint-box which she had had when she was a pupil of Mr. Smee and was still almost young and blooming), Georgy took possession of the object of his desire, which obtained, he took no further notice of his aunt. For his friends and cronies, he had a pompous old schoolmaster, who flattered him, and a toady, his senior, whom he could thrash. It was dear Mrs. Todd's delight to leave him with her youngest daughter, Rosa Jemima, a darling child of eight years old. The little pair looked so well together, she would say (but not to the folks in "the Square," we may be sure) "who knows what might happen? Don't they make a pretty little couple?" the fond mother thought. The broken-spirited, old, maternal grandfather was likewise subject to the little tyrant. He could not help respecting a lad who had such fine clothes and rode with a groom behind him. Georgy, on his side, was in the constant habit of hearing coarse abuse and vulgar satire levelled at John Sedley by his pitiless old enemy, Mr. Osborne. Osborne used to call the other the old pauper, the old coal-man, the old bankrupt, and by many other such names of brutal contumely. How was little George to respect a man so prostrate? A few months after he was with his paternal grandfather, Mrs. Sedley died. There had been little love between her and the child. He did not care to show much grief. He came down to visit his mother in a fine new suit of mourning, and was very angry that he could not go to a play upon which he had set his heart. The illness of that old lady had been the occupation and perhaps the safeguard of Amelia. What do men know about women's martyrdoms? We should go mad had we to endure the hundredth part of those daily pains which are meekly borne by many women. Ceaseless slavery meeting with no reward; constant gentleness and kindness met by cruelty as constant; love, labour, patience, watchfulness, without even so much as the acknowledgement of a good word; all this, how many of them have to bear in quiet, and appear abroad with cheerful faces as if they felt nothing. Tender slaves that they are, they must needs be hypocrites and weak. From her chair Amelia's mother had taken to her bed, which she had never left, and from which Mrs. Osborne herself was never absent except when she ran to see George. The old lady grudged her even those rare visits; she, who had been a kind, smiling, good-natured mother once, in the days of her prosperity, but whom poverty and infirmities had broken down. Her illness or estrangement did not affect Amelia. They rather enabled her to support the other calamity under which she was suffering, and from the thoughts of which she was kept by the ceaseless calls of the invalid. Amelia bore her harshness quite gently; smoothed the uneasy pillow; was always ready with a soft answer to the watchful, querulous voice; soothed the sufferer with words of hope, such as her pious simple heart could best feel and utter, and closed the eyes that had once looked so tenderly upon her. Then all her time and tenderness were devoted to the consolation and comfort of the bereaved old father, who was stunned by the blow which had befallen him, and stood utterly alone in the world. His wife, his honour, his fortune, everything he loved best had fallen away from him. There was only Amelia to stand by and support with her gentle arms the tottering, heart-broken old man. We are not going to write the history: it would be too dreary and stupid. I can see Vanity Fair yawning over it d'avance. One day as the young gentlemen were assembled in the study at the Rev. Mr. Veal's, and the domestic chaplain to the Right Honourable the Earl of Bareacres was spouting away as usual, a smart carriage drove up to the door decorated with the statue of Athene, and two gentlemen stepped out. The young Masters Bangles rushed to the window with a vague notion that their father might have arrived from Bombay. The great hulking scholar of three-and-twenty, who was crying secretly over a passage of Eutropius, flattened his neglected nose against the panes and looked at the drag, as the laquais de place sprang from the box and let out the persons in the carriage. "It's a fat one and a thin one," Mr. Bluck said as a thundering knock came to the door. Everybody was interested, from the domestic chaplain himself, who hoped he saw the fathers of some future pupils, down to Master Georgy, glad of any pretext for laying his book down. The boy in the shabby livery with the faded copper buttons, who always thrust himself into the tight coat to open the door, came into the study and said, "Two gentlemen want to see Master Osborne." The professor had had a trifling altercation in the morning with that young gentleman, owing to a difference about the introduction of crackers in school-time; but his face resumed its habitual expression of bland courtesy as he said, "Master Osborne, I give you full permission to go and see your carriage friends--to whom I beg you to convey the respectful compliments of myself and Mrs. Veal." Georgy went into the reception-room and saw two strangers, whom he looked at with his head up, in his usual haughty manner. One was fat, with mustachios, and the other was lean and long, in a blue frock-coat, with a brown face and a grizzled head. "My God, how like he is!" said the long gentleman with a start. "Can you guess who we are, George?" The boy's face flushed up, as it did usually when he was moved, and his eyes brightened. "I don't know the other," he said, "but I should think you must be Major Dobbin." Indeed it was our old friend. His voice trembled with pleasure as he greeted the boy, and taking both the other's hands in his own, drew the lad to him. "Your mother has talked to you about me--has she?" he said. "That she has," Georgy answered, "hundreds and hundreds of times." 第 五 十 六 章    乔杰成了阔大少     乔治.奥斯本如今在他祖父勒塞尔广场的公馆里面地位十分稳固.他住的是父亲从前的卧房,屋子里的一切财富,将来都由他承继.这孩子相貌俊美,举止高贵,态度文雅,叫他祖父看着疼爱.奥斯本先生对于孙子就像当年对于儿子那样得意.孩子比他父亲小时候过得更奢侈,更没有管束.近来奥斯本先生的营业非常发达,在市中心,他的声望和财富都大大的胜过从前.在以前,他只要乔治进个像样的私立学校;看着儿子当了军官就志得意满.可是这老头儿对于小乔治的野心却要大得多.他常说要叫小家伙做个上流人物.他幻想自己的孙子进大学,做议员,说不定还能封从男爵.老头儿觉得要是能够眼看着孙子有希望安享这般的荣华,死也安心了.他一定得找个顶儿尖儿的大学毕业生来教导他,江湖骗子和冒牌学者他都不要,决计不要!几年以前,他还曾经恶狠狠的痛骂牧师和学究这一类的人,说他们全是骗子.混蛋,只配死啃着希腊文拉丁文挣几个钱活命.他骂这群狗目中无人,居然敢小看做买卖的上等英国人;他们这样的家伙,一时要买五十个下来也容易.可是现在他时常一本正经的慨叹自己以前没受过好教育,又摆起架子像演讲似的再三的对乔杰解释经典教育的优点和必要.     吃饭的时候见了面,祖父总要问问孙子那天读了什么书.孩子报告一天里做的功课,他老是表示十分感兴趣,假装自己也是内行.他到处露马脚,别人一看就知道他无知无识.这样并不能使孩子尊敬他的长辈.那孩子脑子快,在别处受过好教育,过了不久就发现爷爷是个蠢东西,因此看不起他,把他呼来喝去.乔治在老家虽然度日艰难,没机会开眼界,受的调教却是好的,比他祖父想出来的种种花样有益处得多.他是母亲带大的.她母亲是个忠厚无用的好人,除了为儿子得意之外,从来不骄傲自满.她心地干净,态度又谦逊,真正是大人家风范.她忙着服侍别人,悄悄默默的把该做的事情做好;她的谈吐并不惊人,可是心里想的嘴里说的无一不厚道.我们可怜的爱米丽亚诚恳,本色,待人又好,人品又高尚,还不是个有身分的太太吗?     小乔杰见他妈妈这样软弱好说话,便对她逞威作福.后来他跟着祖父过活,觉得那老头儿底子里愚蠢粗俗,又爱摆架子,哪里有他母亲那份儿秀气和纯朴,所以对他也作起威福来.如果他做了东宫太子,受的教育也不能叫他更加目中无人.     他的母亲在家里牵心挂肚的惦记着他.我看她白天是一日想到晚,到晚上,一个人凄凄惶惶的,说不定一想又是大半夜.这位小爷离开了母亲倒并不难过,因为祖父这边有各种消遣解闷的新鲜玩意儿.小孩儿上学以前哭哭啼啼,多半是害怕学校里有好多不乐意的事,很少为舍不得家里的人伤心个不完的.朋友们,弟兄们,如果你们回想到小时候看见一块姜汁面包就擦干了眼泪,拿到一个梅子饼就忘记了跟妈妈姐姐分别的苦痛,你们也就不会自以为清高了.     乔治.奥斯本少爷的日子过得穷奢极欲,凡是他那又有钱又阔绰的爷爷认为他该有的享受,没少了一件.奥斯本先生吩咐马车夫给他挑一匹最漂亮的小马,不必计较费用.于是乔治就开始学骑马了;他先在骑马学校里上课,练习不用马镫骑马和跳篱笆.学会以后,马夫就领着他到新街,到亲王公园,最后又到海德公园去显本领.他全副配备,骑在马上在海德公园兜圈子,马夫马丁在后面跟着.奥斯本老头儿如今在市中心的营业有一部分已经脱手交给手下人去办,自己比较空闲,时常和奥斯本小姐坐着马车到这种时髦地方去兜风.他每回瞧着乔杰浑身阔大少的气派,踩住马镫拍马迎上来的时候,便用手拐儿推推孩子的姑妈,说:"你瞧他,奥小姐."马夫对着车子行礼,车上的听差又向乔治少爷行礼,老头儿笑着对窗外的孙子点头,得意得脸放红光.乔杰另外一个姑妈弗莱特立克.白洛克太太是每天到圆场来兜风的,马具上和车身上都画着他家的纹章,是一头头金色的公牛.车里面坐着三个青白脸皮的小姑娘,戴着蝴蝶结,插着鸟毛,瞪着眼在窗口呆呆的看.白洛克太太看见这一步高升的小子骑在马上跑过去,头上歪戴着帽子,一只手挂在身边,尊贵得像个大爷,不由得狠狠毒毒的对他瞅了几眼.     乔治少爷虽然还不到十一岁,穿的可是定做的骑马裤,底下有皮带子绕过鞋底扣住,脚上的靴子也十分精致,打扮得活像个成年人.他有镀金的马刺,金头的马鞭,领巾上还别着别针.他的羊皮小手套是冈特衣街上兰姆家铺子里最上等的出品.他的母亲本来也给他备了两条领巾,还为他缝了几件衬衫,特特的滚了边,可是撒姆尔回家看望妈妈的时候,里面都换了讲究的细麻纱衬衫了,上面还钉了宝石小扣子.她预备的一份东西太寒蠢,给撩在一边,大概奥斯本小姐已经把它们赏了马夫的儿子.爱米丽亚看见儿子换了穿戴,竭力叫自己觉得快活.反正孩子这样漂亮,她瞧着倒是真心的得意高兴.     她曾经化了一先令替他画过一个侧影,把它傍着另外一张画像挂在床头的墙上.有一天,孩子按时来探望妈妈.他骑了马在白朗浦顿的小街上跑,引得那些住在街上的人都像平常一样,凑到窗口来看他,羡慕他穿的使的都那么讲究.他满面得色,急急的把手伸到大衣口袋里(这件大衣是白颜色的,非常漂亮,上身还有小披肩和丝绒领子)......他把手伸到大衣口袋里,掏出一只红皮小盒子递给母亲.     他说:"妈妈,这是我自己出钱买来的,我想你一定喜欢这东西."     爱米丽亚开了盒子,高兴得叫起来,抱着孩子,不知怎么疼他才好,一遍又一遍的吻着他.盒子里是他自己的肖像,画得很好看,可是寡妇当然觉得它还赶不上本人一半那么俊.他的祖父偶然在沙乌撒泼顿一家橱窗里看见陈列着的肖像,觉得很合意,就要那画家给乔杰画一张像.乔杰有的是钱,想着还要一张小的,就去问画师要多少钱,说是他想自己出钱画一张送给母亲.画师听了很得意,只开了一个很小的价钱.奥斯本老头儿听见这事,大声夸赞他,赏给他许多钱,比孩子买画花掉的多了一倍.     爱米丽亚这一下可真乐坏了;一比下来,老头儿那点儿高兴真不算什么.这件事证明儿子心上有她,使她从心里喜欢出来,觉得全世界的孩子谁也没有他心地忠厚.这以后好几个星期,她一想起他的孝心就快乐.枕头底下压着他的肖像,她睡也睡得香甜些.她一遍遍的吻它,对着它淌眼泪,瞧着它祷告.这低心小胆的可怜东西!心爱的人给她一点儿好处,她就感激不尽.自从和乔治分手以来,她还没有尝到这样的快活和安慰.     乔治少爷在他爷爷家里真威风.吃饭的时候,他神气活现的请太太小姐们喝酒.他的老爷爷看着他喝香槟酒的样子十分得意.他高兴得脸上红里带紫,把手拐儿推推邻座的人说道:"瞧他那样儿!这样的小家伙真是少有的.天哪!天哪!过不了多久他就要梳妆盒子和刮胡子的剃刀了,瞧着吧!"     可惜乔治的这些把戏,只有奥斯本先生欣赏,他的朋友们却不大喜欢.考芬法官的话讲到一半,给乔治打断,以致于说的故事一点也不精彩了,心上很不高兴.福该上校瞧着小孩子喝得半醉,也并不觉得有趣.他的手拐儿撞翻了酒杯,把一杯葡萄酒都洒在托非中士太太的黄软缎袍子上面,事后还在旁边打哈哈,托非太太也不会因此感激他.她的第三个儿子比乔杰大一岁,在以林学校铁格勒斯博士那里念书,偶然回家,一到勒塞尔广场就挨了乔治一顿好打.这件事虽然叫奥斯本老头儿高兴非凡,却不能使托非太太对孩子有什么好感.为这件事乔治的祖父特地赏给他两基尼,并且说如果他能够照样痛打年龄比他大身量比他高的孩子,还有重赏.老头儿究竟认为打架有什么好处,我们很难说.他恍惚觉得男孩子多打打架,以后做人就经得起风霜,学得蛮横霸道,也是一件有用的本领.不知多少年来,英国孩子就受到这样的教育.孩子们中间流行种种坏习气,像欺侮弱小,待人残暴,不讲公道;然而为这些恶习气辩护的,甚至于称扬它们的,何止千万?乔治打败了托非少爷,又受到爷爷赞赏,十分得意,当然还想多制服几个人.有一天,他穿了一套花哨透顶的新衣服,神气活现的在圣.潘克拉斯附近散步,一个面包店里的学徒说了几句尖酸的话讥笑他的打扮,尊贵的小爷登时发起脾气来,拉下上身的漂亮外套递给他的朋友(这位朋友就是拖德少爷,住在勒塞尔广场的大可兰街,是奥斯本股分公司里一个小股东的儿子)......他拉下外套递给他的朋友,准备把面包店学徒痛打一顿.无奈这一回情势不利,乔杰反叫那学徒打了.他回家的当儿,真可怜,一只眼睛给打青了,漂亮的衬衫皱边上洒满了斑斑点点的血迹,全是他自己的小鼻子里流出来的.他告诉祖父说他刚和一个大力士交过手.后来在白朗浦顿,他也说起这次打架的情形,讲了一大篇很不可靠的话,把他可怜的母亲吓得心惊胆战.     住在勒塞尔广场可兰街的小拖德是乔治少爷的好朋友,非常崇拜他.他们两人都喜欢画戏台上常见的脚色,都爱吃太妃糖和复盆子甜饼.冬天没有风雪的日子,他们一块儿在亲王公园和海德公园的曲池上溜冰.奥斯本因为他们爱看戏,特地命令乔治少爷的贴身佣人罗生带他们去,三个人一起坐在后厅,舒服得了不得.     这位先生陪着两个孩子,把伦敦城里的大戏院都走遍了.从特鲁瑞戏院到撒特拉威尔斯戏院,戏子的名字他们统统知道.不但如此,他们自己也常常演戏给拖德家里的人和他们的小朋友看.他们有硬纸板搭成的戏台,还有惠斯脱有名的演员们帮忙.他们的听差罗生做人很大方,只要手里有钱,往往在看完戏以后请两位少爷吃牡蛎,还请他们喝甜酒......仿佛是人家临睡之前喝一杯的样子.当然,乔治小少爷感激罗生带头儿寻欢作乐,他自己使钱又散漫,罗生得的好处也不会少的.     奥斯本先生自己做衣服只请个市中心的裁缝,可是打扮孙子的时候,就嫌市中心的和霍尔朋的裁缝没有本事,特地从伦敦西城叫了一个有名的高手裁缝来,并且告诉他做衣服的时候不必省钱.冈特衣街的吴尔息先生奉了奥斯本先生的命令,挖空心思,给孩子做了许多式样花哨的裤子.背心.上衣.就算整个学校里全是花花公子,这些衣服也够他们穿的了.乔杰有专为晚上宴会穿的白背心,普通宴会穿的丝绒背心,还有披肩式的梳妆衣,做得十分精致,这些东西简直不像小孩儿的打扮.他天天吃晚饭之前一定要换衣服,他祖父说他:"活脱儿是个西城的大爷."家里专门拨了一个佣人伺候他,服侍他穿衣服,每逢他打铃的时候跑上去答应,他有信来的当儿用银盘子托给他.     吃过早饭,乔杰就像成年人似的坐在饭厅的圈椅里面看《晨报》.佣人们瞧他那么少年老成,都觉得有趣,说道:"你听听,他已经会赌神罚誓的骂人啦!"他们里头有记得他父亲乔治上尉的,说他"跟他爹像得脱了个影儿似的".他有的时候蛮横霸道,有的时候马马虎虎,常常开口骂人,一刻都不安静,有了他,屋里就热闹了.     附近有一个学究,开了个私馆教教孩子.他登广告说:"本校为有志攻读大学,参加议院或是研究神学.法学.医学的贵族子弟做好准备工作.本校和一般旧式教育机构大不相同,避免戕害儿童身心的体罚制度.校内环境幽雅高尚,生活舒适,充满了家庭的温暖."勃鲁姆斯白莱区赫德路的劳伦斯.维尔牧师(他又是贝亚爱格思伯爵的私人牧师)就用这种方法来招徕学生.     私人牧师和他太太两人孜孜不倦的登广告和钻营,所以家里总有一两个寄宿生.这些学生出的学费很不少,大家公认环境是再舒服也没有了.寄宿生里头有一个是西印度群岛来的,向来没有家属来看望他.他长得又肥又大,黄黑面皮,头发乱蓬蓬的活像羊毛,一股子阔少爷的气派.还有一个粗粗笨笨的大孩子,已经二十三岁了;他以前没有受过好好的教育,维尔夫妇答应将来想法子把他介绍到上流社会里去.还有两个是东印度公司斑格尔上校的儿子.乔杰进学校的时候,他们四个已经寄宿在维尔太太高雅的家庭里了.     乔杰和其他十几个孩子一样,是走读生.早上,罗生先生陪着他上学.如果天气好,到下午就骑着马回家,后面有马夫跟着.学校里传说他的祖父阔得不得了.维尔牧师时常亲自对乔治恭维他爷爷有钱.他时常教诲乔治,说他是注定要做大人物的,应该从小准备起来,小时谨勤受教,长大后才能办大事.他说将来指挥下属的人现在必须先遵守规则,因此他请求乔治不要带太妃糖到学校里来,免得把那两个斑格尔少爷吃得害病,反正维尔太太预备的饭菜既精致又丰盛,他们两人并不少吃的.     他们读的书,或者像维尔先生说的"所包括的各项学科",范围真广.凡是有名儿的科学,在赫德路读书的学生都可以学到一些.维尔牧师有一架太阳系仪,一架小型发电机,一个辘轳,一个剧场(就在洗衣房),一套化学仪器,还有一个图书馆......据他说里面包括各国古今第一流作家的作品.他带着学生们到大英博物馆参观陈列着的古物和自然科学的标本,一面替他们讲解,引得旁人都围上来听.所有勃鲁姆斯白莱区的人都知道他的学问十分渊博,非常佩服他.只要他开口说话(他差不多老在开口说话),用的总是最深奥最文雅的字眼,因为他很有见识,知道那些响亮.动听.搁在嘴里有斤量的字眼是不费钱的,跟最平凡最没有气魄的字眼一样便宜.     他在学校里就用这种口气对乔治说话:"昨天晚上,我和敝友包尔德思博士畅论科学......敝友包尔德思博士是一位名符其实的考古学家,先生们,他是一位名符其实的考古学家.从博士家里出来,我路过勒塞尔广场,发现令祖大人的富丽堂皇的府邸中灯烛辉煌,似乎正在进行宴乐.据我推测,奥斯本先生昨晚大宴贵宾,想来我没有猜错吧?"     小乔杰很幽默,常常当着维尔先生的面模仿他.他胆子又大,学得又像,回答说:"您的猜测甚为准确."     "既然如此,先生们,有光荣参加奥斯本先生宴会的宾客决计不会对于菜肴有所不满,这是我敢打赌的.我本人也承蒙奥斯本先生屡次相请......(真的,我想起来了,奥斯本,今天早上你没有准时到校,而且这种过失,你犯过不止一次了.)我刚才说起承蒙奥斯本先生不弃,尊我为座上客.虽然我以前也曾和国内的大人物和贵族在一起吃喝,......我的好朋友,又是我的恩人,乔治.贝亚爱格思伯爵,就是其中之一......可是我肯定的说,讲到酒菜的丰盛,接待的周到,气派的豪华,英国中等阶级的排场竟和贵族们一样.白勒克先生,请你把幼脱劳比思书里的那一段继续念下去,刚才是因为奥斯本来迟了,所以打断的."     有一段时候,乔治就在这位了不起的先生手下受教育.爱米丽亚听不大懂他说的话,以为他是个少有的大学问家.可怜的寡妇和维尔太太交朋友,自有她的打算.她喜欢到学校里去,因为可以看着乔治从家里来上学.维尔太太每个月开一次谈话会,粉红的请帖上用希腊文印着"雅典学院".开会的时候,教授先生和学生跟家长联络感情,请他们喝几杯淡而无味的茶,对他们谈好些高深渊博的话.可怜的爱米丽亚最喜欢参加这种谈话会,一次都不肯错过.她只要能叫乔治坐在身边,就觉得这些会有趣极了.不管天气怎么坏,她总会从白朗浦顿一直走来.会后,客人散了,乔杰也由他的佣人罗生陪着回家了,可怜的奥斯本太太穿上大衣,围上披肩,然后走回家去.动身以前她从来不忘记跟维尔太太拥抱着告别,感激涕零的向她道谢,因为她请她过了那么一个愉快的黄昏.     乔杰在这位有学问的万能博士手下究竟有什么进益呢?照他每星期拿给祖父的成绩单子来看,他的进步真是惊人.成绩单上印着二十几种有益的功课,由老师填上等级.乔杰的希腊文是优等,拉丁文是优等,法文是优等,别的功课成绩也相仿.到学期终了,每个学生每样功课都得奖.甚至于像那个叫施瓦滋的蓬头小后生(他是墨默尔太太同父异母的兄弟),从乡下出来的二十三岁的失学青年勃勒克,还有刚才说起的那个不长进的拖德少爷,也都有奖品.奖品是值十八便士一本的书籍,上面印着校名雅典学院,还有教授先生的拉丁文题赠,口气非常夸张.     拖德少爷一家人全是靠奥斯本吃饭的.拖德本来是个小职员,由老头儿一步步提拔上去,做到商行里的小股东.     奥斯本先生是拖德少爷的教父.拖德少爷长大之后在名片上印的名字是奥斯本.拖德先生,而且成了个非常时髦的公子哥儿.玛丽亚.拖德受洗的时候就请奥斯本小姐做教母.奥斯本小姐每年送给女孩儿一本圣书,许多传教册子,一本低教会派的诗歌,或是其他相仿的礼物,足见她待人厚道.奥小姐有时带着拖德家里的人坐马车兜风.他们生了病,她那听差,穿着一身大大的毛绒灯笼裤子和背心,就会从勒塞尔广场送糖酱和各种好吃的东西到可兰街去.对于勒塞尔广场,可兰街战战兢兢,十分敬重.拖德太太的手巧,会铰衬在羊腿旁边做装饰的纸花边,又会把红萝卜白萝卜刻成花儿鸭子等等东西,做得很不错.每逢奥斯本家大请客,她就上"广场"帮忙(她家的人都那么称呼奥斯本家),压根儿不敢希望坐到席面上去.要是有什么客人临时不能来,拖德就给请来凑数.拖德太太和玛丽亚到晚上过来,轻轻的敲门溜进去,到奥斯本小姐带着女客到客厅休息的时候,她们已经等在那里.先生们上楼以前,她们娘儿就给太太小姐们弹个曲子唱个歌儿解闷.可怜的玛丽亚.拖德,可怜的女孩子!她在可兰街不知费了多少力气练习这些双人合奏和奏鸣曲,才敢到广场来当众表演.     这样看来,乔杰竟是命中注定,和他接触的人都得服他使唤.亲戚.朋友.佣人,没一个不受他驱遣.说句实话,他本人很喜欢这种环境,大多数人的心理也像他一样.乔杰爱做大爷,看来他天生会做大爷.     在勒塞尔广场,人人都怕奥斯本先生,而奥斯本先生就怕乔杰.这孩子风度翩翩,开口就能谈书本子,谈学问,和父亲长的又像(他父亲至今葬在布鲁塞尔,到死不曾和老的讲和),这种种使老爷爷十分敬畏.这样一来,孩子当然更长了威风.小乔治的相貌,无意中说话的声音,往往使那老头儿呆柯柯的以为在他面前的不是孙子而是儿子.他从前对大乔治过分严厉,如今要补过赎罪,就一味的姑息孙子.别人瞧着他对乔治那么和软,都觉得诧异.他跟奥斯本小姐说话的当儿,仍旧是粗声大气咒一声骂一声的,如果乔治吃早饭迟到,他只笑笑就完了.     乔治的姑妈奥斯本小姐是个形容枯槁的老小姐.她四十多年来日子过得全无生趣,而且一向受父亲作践,折磨得一点刚性也没有了.一个脾气倔强的男孩子要制服她并不是难事.乔治不管要她什么东西,像壁橱里一罐罐的糖酱呀,画盒儿里面干裂的颜色呀(这盒颜色还是她跟着思米先生学画的时候使的,当年她还不算老,她的红颜还没有消褪呢)......乔治不管要她什么,不问情由伸手就拿.东西到手之后他就把姑妈扔在一边不睬她.     他也有几个朋友和知己,譬如那一味说空话和拍马屁的老师就是一个,另外还有个比他大的同学拖德,也是成天趋奉他,甘心挨他揍的家伙.亲爱的拖德太太最喜欢叫她八岁的小女儿罗莎.贾米玛跟乔治在一块儿玩.她常说:"这一对小人儿在一块儿真合适!"当然这话是不能当着"广场"那儿的人说的.痴心的妈妈心里暗想道:"将来的事谁说得定?他们俩不是正好一对儿吗?"     可怜巴巴的外公也得受这位小霸王的驱遣.乔治的衣服那么漂亮,骑马的时候还有马夫跟在后面伺候,不由得老头儿不尊敬他.乔治却瞧不起他外公.约翰.赛特笠的老冤家奥斯本先生心肠最硬,背后不时对他讥笑谩骂,用的字眼又粗俗又下流,提起他的时候,总叫他老叫化子.卖煤老头儿.穷光蛋等等,那口气十分恶毒不堪.小乔治时常听见这些话,怎么怪得他瞧不起那倒楣鬼儿呢?他住到爷爷家里几个月之后,赛特笠太太死了.她活着的时候对外孙没有多大感情,外孙也不高兴表示伤心.他穿了一身簇新的丧服到母亲那里去送外婆的丧.那天他本来要去看一出盼望了好久的戏,为着要送丧,只得罢了,心里老大不高兴.     老太太的病给爱米丽亚添了忙,说不定也保全了她.女人受的苦,男人是不了解的.好多女人天天得忍气吞声的受磨折,如果我们担当了其中的百分之一,只怕已经要发疯了.她们不断的做苦工,却得不到一点儿酬报;她们忠厚待人,只落得老是遭人作践;她们掏出心来服侍别人,不辞劳苦,也不怕麻烦,结果连一句好话也换不着.多少女人口无怨言的忍受这种煎熬,在外面还得笑眯眯的装没事人儿.她们死心塌地做奴隶,硬不起心肠来反抗,还不得不顾面子.     爱米丽亚的母亲先是成天坐在椅子里,后来就上了床下不来了.奥斯本太太老是守在病床旁边伺候,难得溜出去看看乔治.虽然她并没有多少机会去探望儿子,老太太心上还不高兴.日子过得宽裕的时候,她原是个好心肠.好脾气.笑脸迎人的母亲,不幸后来贫病交逼,才变出这个倔丧的性子来.不管她怎么生病,怎么和女儿疏远,爱米丽亚始终孝顺她.母亲的病反倒帮她渡过了另外的一个难关,因为她给病人不停的使唤着,根本没有功夫想到自己悲惨的身世.爱米丽亚让她母亲发脾气,不去违拗她,只想法子减少她病中的痛苦.病人什么事都留心,丧声歪气的问这样问那样,她总是和和顺顺的回答.她自己信教虔诚,为人也本色,凡是她能够想到感觉到的,她就用来安慰受苦的病人,让她心上有个希望.她母亲(从前对她那么慈爱的母亲)临死的时候只有她在旁边送终.     母亲死后,她把所有的时间精力都花在伤心的老父亲身上,不时安慰他,伺候得他舒服.老头儿受了这个打击,心痛得神志糊涂.如今他是真的无依无靠;妻子.名誉.财产,一切他最心爱的东西都完了.这个龙钟的老头儿伤心绝望,身边只剩一个温柔的爱米丽亚,以后就得靠着她.这家子的事情实在沉闷无味,我不打算多写.我看见名利场上的人已经在预先打呵欠了.     有一天,贝亚爱格思伯爵的家庭牧师维尔先生正在书房里和学生上课,像平常一样滔滔汩汩的说个不完,校门口忽然来了一辆漂亮的马车,停在门前雅典女神的雕像旁边,接着就有两位先生从车子里走出来.那两个斑格尔少爷急忙冲到窗口,心里恍惚觉得或许爸爸从孟买回来了.那二十三岁的傻大个儿本来在对着书本子偷偷的哭,这时把脸贴在玻璃上往外看马车,把鼻子挤扁了也不管.他看见一个听差从车上跳下来,开了车门让车里的人出来,便道:"一个胖子,一个瘦子."他说到这里,只听得外面大声打门.     屋里从维尔牧师到小乔杰,个个人都对于这件事发生兴趣.牧师希望有人送儿子来上学,乔杰希望借此少上一会儿课.     学校里有个小听差,常年穿着破旧的号衣,上面的铜扣子都褪了色,每回出去开门,总披上一件又窄又小的外套.他走到书房里说道:"有两位先生要见奥斯本少爷."那天早晨,因为教授先生不准乔杰在上课的时候吃梳打饼干,两边争吵过几句.维尔先生听了这话,脸上恢复了原状,和颜悦色的说道:"奥斯本,我准你去跟那两位坐马车来的朋友见面.请你代我和维尔太太向他们问好."     乔杰走到会客室,看见两个陌生人.他抬起头,摆出他那目中无人的样子瞧着他们.两个客人里头有一个是留胡子的胖子.另外一个是瘦高个儿,穿一件蓝色外套,外面一排长方扣子.他脸上晒得黑黑的,头发已经灰白了.     瘦高个儿愣了一愣,说道:"天啊,多像他!我们是谁你猜得着吗,乔治?"     孩子把脸绯红了......他一兴奋就脸红......他的眼睛也亮起来,说道:"那一位我不认识,可是我想您准是都宾少佐."     不错,他就是我们的老朋友.他和孩子招呼的时候,喜欢得声音发抖.他牵着孩子两只手把他拉近身来.     他说:"你母亲大概曾经跟你谈起我来着,对不对?"     乔治答道:"她谈起您好多好多回."