简爱(英文版)-第63章

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　to　me。
“It　is；”　said　St。　John。
“Do　you　think　you　shall　like　Morton？”　she　asked　of　me；　with　a　direct　and　naive　simplicity　of　tone　and　manner；　pleasing；　if　child…like。
“I　hope　I　shall。　I　have　many　inducements　to　do　so。”
“Did　you　find　your　scholars　as　attentive　as　you　expected？”
“Quite。”
“Do　you　like　your　house？”
“Very　much。”
“Have　I　furnished　it　nicely？”
“Very　nicely；　indeed。”
“And　made　a　good　choice　of　an　attendant　for　you　in　Alice　Wood？”
“You　have　indeed。　She　is　teachable　and　handy。”　（This　then；　I　thought；　is　Miss　Oliver；　the　heiress；　favoured；　it　seems；　in　the　gifts　of　fortune；　as　well　as　in　those　of　nature！　What　happy　bination　of　the　plas　presided　over　her　birth；　I　wonder？）
“I　shall　e　up　and　help　you　to　teach　sometimes；”　she　added。　“It　will　be　a　change　for　me　to　visit　you　now　and　then；　and　I　like　a　change。　Mr。　Rivers；　I　have　been　SO　gay　during　my　stay　at　S…。　　night；　or　rather　this　morning；　I　was　dancing　till　two　o’clock。　The—th　regiment　are　stationed　there　since　the　riots；　and　the　officers　are　the　most　agreeable　men　in　the　world：　they　put　all　our　young　knife…grinders　and　scissor　merchants　to　shame。”
It　seemed　to　me　that　Mr。　St。　John’s　under　lip　protruded；　and　his　upper　lip　curled　a　moment。　His　mouth　certainly　looked　a　good　deal　pressed；　and　the　lower　part　of　his　face　unusually　stern　and　square；　as　the　laughing　girl　gave　him　this　information。　He　lifted　his　gaze；　too；　from　the　daisies；　and　turned　it　on　her。　An　unsmiling；　a　searching；　a　meaning　gaze　it　was。　She　answered　it　with　a　second　laugh；　and　laughter　well　became　her　youth；　her　roses；　her　dimples；　her　bright　eyes。
As　he　stood；　mute　and　grave；　she　again　fell　to　caressing　Carlo。　“Poor　Carlo　loves　me；”　said　she。　“He　is　not　stern　and　distant　to　his　friends；　and　if　he　could　speak；　he　would　not　be　silent。”
As　she　patted　the　dog’s　head；　bending　with　native　grace　before　his　young　and　austere　master；　I　saw　a　glow　rise　to　that　master’s　face。　I　saw　his　solemn　eye　melt　with　sudden　fire；　and　flicker　with　resistless　emotion。　Flushed　and　kindled　thus；　he　looked　nearly　as　beautiful　for　a　man　as　she　for　a　woman。　His　chest　heaved　once；　as　if　his　large　heart；　weary　of　despotic　constriction；　had　expanded；　despite　the　will；　and　made　a　vigorous　bound　for　the　attainment　of　liberty。　But　he　curbed　it；　I　think；　as　a　resolute　rider　would　curb　a　rearing　steed。　He　responded　neither　by　word　nor　movement　to　the　gentle　advances　made　him。
“Papa　says　you　never　e　to　see　us　now；”　continued　Miss　Oliver；　looking　up。　“You　are　quite　a　stranger　at　Vale　Hall。　He　is　alone　this　evening；　and　not　very　well：　will　you　return　with　me　and　visit　him？”
“It　is　not　a　seasonable　hour　to　intrude　on　Mr。　Oliver；”　answered　St。　John。
“Not　a　seasonable　hour！　But　I　declare　it　is。　It　is　just　the　hour　when　papa　most　wants　pany：　when　the　works　are　closed　and　he　has　no　business　to　occupy　him。　Now；　Mr。　Rivers；　do　e。　Why　are　you　so　very　shy；　and　so　very　sombre？”　She　filled　up　the　hiatus　his　silence　left　by　a　reply　of　her　own。
“I　forgot！”　she　exclaimed；　shaking　her　beautiful　curled　head；　as　if　shocked　at　herself。　“I　am　so　giddy　and　thoughtless！　Do　excuse　me。　It　had　slipped　my　memory　that　you　have　good　reasons　to　be　indisposed　for　joining　in　my　chatter。　Diana　and　Mary　have　left　you；　and　Moor　House　is　shut　up；　and　you　are　so　lonely。　I　am　sure　I　pity　you。　Do　e　and　see　papa。”
“Not　to…night；　Miss　Rosamond；　not　to…night。”
Mr。　St。　John　spoke　almost　like　an　automaton：　himself　only　knew　the　effort　it　cost　him　thus　to　refuse。
“Well；　if　you　are　so　obstinate；　I　will　leave　you；　for　I　dare　not　stay　any　longer：　the　dew　begins　to　fall。　Good　evening！”
She　held　out　her　hand。　He　just　touched　it。　“Good　evening！”　he　repeated；　in　a　voice　low　and　hollow　as　an　echo。　She　turned；　but　in　a　moment　returned。
“Are　you　well？”　she　asked。　Well　might　she　put　the　question：　his　face　was　blanched　as　her　gown。
“Quite　well；”　he　enunciated；　and；　with　a　bow；　he　left　the　gate。　She　went　one　way；　he　another。　She　turned　twice　to　gaze　after　him　as　she　tripped　fairy…like　down　the　field；　he；　as　he　strode　firmly　across；　never　turned　at　all。
This　spectacle　of　another’s　suffering　and　sacrifice　rapt　my　thoughts　from　exclusive　meditation　on　my　own。　Diana　Rivers　had　designated　her　brother　“inexorable　as　death。”　She　had　not　exaggerated。
Chapter　32
I　continued　the　labours　of　the　village…school　as　actively　and　faithfully　as　I　could。　It　was　truly　hard　work　at　first。　Some　time　elapsed　before；　with　all　my　efforts；　I　could　prehend　my　scholars　and　their　nature。　Wholly　untaught；　with　faculties　quite　torpid；　they　seemed　to　me　hopelessly　dull；　and；　at　first　sight；　all　dull　alike：　but　I　soon　found　I　was　mistaken。　There　was　a　difference　amongst　them　as　amongst　the　educated；　and　when　I　got　to　know　them；　and　they　me；　this　difference　rapidly　developed　itself。　Their　amazement　at　me；　my　language；　my　rules；　and　ways；　once　subsided；　I　found　some　of　these　heavy…looking；　gaping　rustics　wake　up　into　sharp…witted　girls　enough。　Many　showed　themselves　obliging；　and　amiable　too；　and　I　discovered　amongst　them　not　a　few　examples　of　natural　politeness；　and　innate　self…respect；　as　well　as　of　excellent　capacity；　that　won　both　my　goodwill　and　my　admiration。　These　soon　took　a　pleasure　in　doing　their　work　well；　in　keeping　their　persons　neat；　in　learning　their　tasks　regularly；　in　acquiring　quiet　and　orderly　manners。　The　rapidity　of　their　progress；　in　some　instances；　was　even　surprising；　and　an　honest　and　happy　pride　I　took　in　it：　besides；　I　began　personally　to　like　some　of　the　best　girls；　and　they　liked　me。　I　had　amongst　my　scholars　several　farmers’　daughters：　young　women　grown；　almost。　These　could　already　read；　write；　and　sew；　and　to　them　I　taught　the　elements　of　grammar；　geography；　history；　and　the　finer　kinds　of　needlework。　I　found　estimable　characters　amongst　them—characters　desirous　of　information　and　disposed　for　improvement—with　whom　I　passed　many　a　pleasant　evening　hour　in　their　own　homes。　Their　parents　then　（the　farmer　and　his　wife）　loaded　me　with　attentions。　There　was　an　enjoyment　in　accepting　their　simple　kindness；　and　in　repaying　it　by　a　consideration—a　scrupulous　regard　to　their　feelings—to　which　they　were　not；　perhaps；　at　all　times　accustomed；　and　which　both　charmed　and　benefited　them；　because；　while　it　elevated　them　in　their　own　eyes；　it　made　them　emulous　to　merit　the　deferential　treatment　they　received。
I　felt　I　became　a　favourite　in　the　neighbourhood。　Whenever　I　went　out；　I　heard　on　all　sides　cordial　salutations；　and　was　weled　with　friendly　smiles。　To　live　amidst　general　regard；　though　it　be　but　the　regard　of　working　people；　is　like　“sitting　in　sunshine；　calm　and　sweet；”　serene　inward　feelings　bud　and　bloom　under　the　ray。　At　this　period　of　my　life；　my　heart　far　oftener　swelled　with　thankfulness　than　sank　with　dejection：　and　yet；　reader；　to　tell　you　all；　in　the　midst　of　this　calm；　this　useful　existence—after　a　day　passed　in　honourable　exertion　amongst　my　scholars；　an　evening　spent　in　drawing　or　reading　contentedly　alone—I　used　to　rush　into　strange　dreams　at　night：　dreams　many…coloured；　agitated；　full　of　the　ideal；　the　stirring；　the　stormy—dreams　where；　amidst　unusual　scenes；　charged　with　adventure；　with　agitating　risk　and　romantic　chance；　I　still　again　and　again　met　Mr。　Rochester；　always　at　some　exciting　crisis；　and　then　the　sense　of　being　in　his　arms；　hearing　his　voice；　meeting　his　eye；　touching　his　hand　and　cheek；　loving　him；　being　loved　by　him—the　hope　of　passing　a　lifetime　at　his　side；　would　be　renewed；　with　all　its　first　force　and　fire。　Then　I　awoke。　Then　I　recalled　where　I　was；　and　how　situated。　Then　I　rose　up　on　my　curtainless　bed；　trembling　and　quivering；　and　then　the　still；　dark　night　witnessed　the　convulsion　of　despair；　and　heard　the　burst　of　passion。　By　nine　o’clock　the　next　morning　I　was　punctually　opening　the　school；　tranquil；　settled；　prepared　for　the　steady　duties　of　the　day。
Rosamond　Oliver　kept　her　word　in　ing　to　visit　me。　Her　call　at　the　school　was　generally　made　in　the　course　of　her　morning　ride。　She　would　canter　up　to　the　door　on　her　pony；　followed　by　a　mounted　livery　servant。　Anything　more　exquisite　than　her　appearance；　in　her　purple　habit；　with　her　Amazon’s　cap　of　black　velvet　placed　gracefully　above　the　long　curls　that　kissed　her　cheek　and　floated　to　her　shoulders；　can　scarcely　be　imagined：　and　it　was　thus　she　would　enter　the　rustic　building；　and　glide　through　the　dazzled　ranks　of　the　village　children。　She　generally　came　at　the　hour　when　Mr。　Rivers　was　engaged　in　giving　his　daily　catechising　lesson。　Keenly；　I　fear；　did　the　eye　of　the　visitress　pierce　the　young　pastor’s　heart。　A　sort　of　instinct　seemed　to　warn　him　of　her　entrance；　even　when　he　did　not　see　it；　and　　the　door；　if　she　appeared　at　it；　his　cheek　would　glow；　and　his　marble…　seeming　features；　though　they　refused　to　relax；　changed　indescribably；　and　in　their　very　quiescence　became　expressive　of　a　repressed　fervour；　stronger　than　working　muscle　or　darting　glance　could　indicate。
Of　course；　she　knew　her　power：　indeed；　he　did　not；　because　he　could　not；　conceal　it　from　her。　In　spite　of　his　Christian　stoicism；　when　she　went　up　and　addressed　him；　and　smiled　gaily；　encouragingly；　even　fondly　in　his　face；　his　hand　would　tremble　and　his　eye　burn。　He　seemed　to　say；　with　his　sad　and　resolute　look；　if　he　did　not　say　it　with　his　lips；　“I　love　you；　and　I　know　you　prefer　me。　It　is　not　despair　of　success　that　keeps　me　dumb。　If　I　offered　my　heart；　I　believe　you　would　accept　it。　But　that　heart　is　already　laid　on　a　sacred　altar：　the　fire　is　arranged　round　it。　It　will　soon　be　no　more　than　a　sacrifice　consumed。”
And　then　she　would　pout　like　a　disappointed　child；　a　pensive　cloud　would　soften　her　radiant　vivacity；　she　would　withdraw　her　hand　hastily　from　his；　and　turn　in　transient　petulance　from　his　aspect；　at　once　so　heroic　and　so　martyr…like。　St。　John；　no　doubt；　would　have　given　the　world　to　follow；　recall；　retain　her；　when　she　thus　left　him；　but　he　would　not　give　one　chance　of　heaven；　nor　relinquish；　for　the　elysium　of　her　love；　one　hope　of　the　true；　eternal　Paradise。　Besides；　he　could　not　bind　all　that　he　had　in　his　nature—the　rover；　the　aspirant；　the　poet；　the　priest—in　the　limits　of　a　single　passion。　He　could　not—he　would　not—renounce　his　wild　field　of　mission　warfare　for　the　parlours　and　the　peace　of　Vale　Hall。　I　learnt　so　much　from　himself　in　an　inroad　I　once；　despite　his　reserve；　had　the　daring　to　make　on　his　confidence。
Miss　Oliver　already　honoured　me　y　cottage。　I　had　learnt　her　whole　character；　which　was　without　mystery　or　disguise：　she　was　coquettish　but　not　heartless；　exacting；　but　not　worthlessly　selfish。　She　had　been　indulged　from　her　birth；　but　was　not　absolutely　spoilt。　She　was　hasty；　but　good…humoured；　vain　（she　could　not　help　it；　when　every　glance　in　the　glass　showed　her　such　a　flush　of　loveliness）；　but　not　affected；　liberal…handed；　innocent　of　the　pride　of　wealth；　ingenuous；　sufficiently　intelligent；　gay；　lively；　and　unthinking：　she　was　very　charming；　in　short；　even　to　a　cool　observer　of　her　own　sex　like　me；　but　she　was　not　profoundly　interesting　or　thoroughly　impressive。　A　very　different　sort　of　mind　was　hers　from　that；　for　instance；　of　the　sisters　of　St。　John。　Still；　I　liked　her　almost　as　I　liked　my　pupil　Adèle；　except　that；　for　a　child　whom　we　have　watched　over　and　taught；　a　closer　affection　is　engendered　than　we　can　give　an　equally　attractive　adult　acquaintance。
She　had　taken　an　amiable　caprice　to　me。　She　said　I　was　like　Mr。　Rivers；　only；　certainly；　she　allowed；　“not　one…tenth　so　handsome；　though　I　was　a　nice　neat　little　soul　enough；　but　he　was　an　angel。”　I　was；　however；　good；　clever；　posed；　and　firm；　like　him。　I　was　a　lusus　naturae；　she　affirmed；　as　a　village　schoolmistress：　she　was　sure　my　previous　history；　if　known；　would　make　a　delightful　romance。
One　evening；　while；　with　her　usual　child…like　activity；　and　thoughtless　yet　not　offensive　inquisitiveness；　she　was　rummaging　the　cupboard　and　the　table…drawer　of　my　little　kitchen；　she　discovered　first　two　French　books；　a　volume　of　Schiller；　a　German　grammar　and　dictionary；　and　then　my　drawing…materials　and　some　sketches；　including　a　pencil…head　of　a　pretty　little　cherub…like　girl；　one　of　my　scholars；　and　sundry　views　from　nature；　taken　in　the　Vale　of　Morton　and　on　the　surrounding　moors。　She　was　first　transfixed　with　surprise；　and　then　electrified　with　delight。
“Had　I　done　these　pictures？　Did　I　know　French　and　German？　What　a　love—what　a　miracle　I　was！　I　drew　better　than　her　master　in　the　first　school　in　S…。　Would　I　sketch　a　portrait　of　her；　to　show　to　papa？”
“With　pleasure；”　I　replied；　and　I　felt　a　thrill　of　artist—delight　at　the　idea　of　copying　from　so　perfect　and　radiant　a　model。　She　had　then　on　a　dark…blue　silk　dress；　her　arms　and　her　neck　were　bare；　her　only　ornament　was　her　chestnut　tresses；　which　waved　over　her　shoulders　with　all　the　wild　grace　of　natural　curls。　I　took　a　sheet　of　fine　card…board；　and　drew　a　careful　outline。　I　promised　myself　the　pleasure　of　colouring　it；　and；　as　it　was　getting　late　then；　I　told　her　she　must　e　and　sit　another　day。
She　made　such　a　report　of　me　to　her　father；　that　Mr。　Oliver　himself　acpanied　her　next　evening—a　tall；　massive…featured；　middle…aged；　and　grey…headed　man；　at　whose　side　his　lovely　daughter　looked　like　a　bright　flower　near　a　hoary　turret。　He