简.爱 英文版 Jane Eyre
夏洛蒂.勃朗特 Charlotte Bronte
CHAPTER XI Page 1
A new chapter in a novel is something like a new scene in a play;and when I draw up the curtain this time, reader, you must fancy yousee a room in the George Inn at Millcote, with such large figuredpapering on the walls as inn rooms have; such a carpet, suchfurniture, such ornaments on the mantelpiece, such prints, includinga portrait of George the Third, and another of the Prince of Wales,and a representation of the death of Wolfe. All this is visibleto you by the light of an oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, andby that of an excellent fire, near which I sit in my cloak andbonnet; my muff and umbrella lie on the table, and I am warmingaway the numbness and chill contracted by sixteen hours' exposureto the rawness of an October day: I left Lowton at four o'clocka. m. , and the Millcote town clock is now just striking eight.
Reader, though I look comfortably accommodated, I am not very tranquilin my mind. I thought when the coach stopped here there would besome one to meet me; I looked anxiously round as I descended thewooden steps the "boots" placed for my convenience, expecting tohear my name pronounced, and to see some description of carriagewaiting to convey me to Thornfield. Nothing of the sort wasvisible; and when I asked a waiter if any one had been to inquireafter a Miss Eyre, I was answered in the negative: so I had noresource but to request to be shown into a private room: and hereI am waiting, while all sorts of doubts and fears are troubling mythoughts.
It is a very strange sensation to inexperienced youth to feelitself quite alone in the world, cut adrift from every connection,uncertain whether the port to which it is bound can be reached,and prevented by many impediments from returning to that it hasquitted. The charm of adventure sweetens that sensation, the glowof pride warms it; but then the throb of fear disturbs it; and fearwith me became predominant when half-an-hour elapsed and still Iwas alone. I bethought myself to ring the bell.
"Is there a place in this neighbourhood called Thornfield?" Iasked of the waiter who answered the summons.
"Thornfield? I don't know, ma'am; I'll inquire at thebar. " He vanished, but reappeared instantly -
"Is your name Eyre, Miss?"
"Yes. "
"Person here waiting for you. "
I jumped up, took my muff and umbrella, and hastened into the inn-passage: a man was standing by the open door, and in the lamp-litstreet I dimly saw a one-horse conveyance.
"This will be your luggage, I suppose?" said the man rather abruptlywhen he saw me, pointing to my trunk in the passage.
"Yes. " He hoisted it on to the vehicle, which was a sort of car,and then I got in; before he shut me up, I asked him how far itwas to Thornfield.
"A matter of six miles. "
"How long shall we be before we get there?"
"Happen an hour and a half. "
He fastened the car door, climbed to his own seat outside, andwe set off. Our progress was leisurely, and gave me ample timeto reflect; I was content to be at length so near the end of myjourney; and as I leaned back in the comfortable though not elegantconveyance, I meditated much at my ease.
"I suppose, " thought I, "judging from the plainness of the servantand carriage, Mrs. Fairfax is not a very dashing person: so muchthe better; I never lived amongst fine people but once, and I wasvery miserable with them. I wonder if she lives alone except thislittle girl; if so, and if she is in any degree amiable, I shallsurely be able to get on with her; I will do my best; it is a pitythat doing one's best does not always answer. At Lowood, indeed,I took that resolution, kept it, and succeeded in pleasing; butwith Mrs. Reed, I remember my best was always spurned with scorn.I pray God Mrs. Fairfax may not turn out a second Mrs. Reed; butif she does, I am not bound to stay with her! let the worst cometo the worst, I can advertise again. How far are we on our roadnow, I wonder?"
I let down the window and looked out; Millcote was behind us; judgingby the number of its lights, it seemed a place of considerablemagnitude, much larger than Lowton. We were now, as far as I couldsee, on a sort of common; but there were houses scattered all overthe district; I felt we were in a different region to Lowood, morepopulous, less picturesque; more stirring, less romantic.
The roads were heavy, the night misty; my conductor let his horsewalk all the way, and the hour and a half extended, I verilybelieve, to two hours; at last he turned in his seat and said -
"You're noan so far fro' Thornfield now. "
Again I looked out: we were passing a church; I saw its low broadtower against the sky, and its bell was tolling a quarter; I sawa narrow galaxy of lights too, on a hillside, marking a village orhamlet. About ten minutes after, the driver got down and opened apair of gates: we passed through, and they clashed to behind us.We now slowly ascended a drive, and came upon the long front of ahouse: candlelight gleamed from one curtained bow-window; all therest were dark. The car stopped at the front door; it was openedby a maid-servant; I alighted and went in.
"Will you walk this way, ma'am?" said the girl; and I followedher across a square hall with high doors all round: she ushered meinto a room whose double illumination of fire and candle at firstdazzled me, contrasting as it did with the darkness to which myeyes had been for two hours inured; when I could see, however, acosy and agreeable picture presented itself to my view.
A snug small room; a round table by a cheerful fire; an arm-chairhigh-backed and old-fashioned, wherein sat the neatest imaginablelittle elderly lady, in widow's cap, black silk gown, and snowymuslin apron; exactly like what I had fancied Mrs. Fairfax, onlyless stately and milder looking. She was occupied in knitting; alarge cat sat demurely at her feet; nothing in short was wantingto complete the beau-ideal of domestic comfort. A more reassuringintroduction for a new governess could scarcely be conceived;there was no grandeur to overwhelm, no stateliness to embarrass;and then, as I entered, the old lady got up and promptly and kindlycame forward to meet me.
"How do you do, my dear? I am afraid you have had a tedious ride;John drives so slowly; you must be cold, come to the fire. "
"Mrs. Fairfax, I suppose?" said I.
"Yes, you are right: do sit down. "
She conducted me to her own chair, and then began to remove my shawland untie my bonnet-strings; I begged she would not give herselfso much trouble.
"Oh, it is no trouble; I dare say your own hands are almost numbedwith cold. Leah, make a little hot negus and cut a sandwich ortwo: here are the keys of the storeroom. "
And she produced from her pocket a most housewifely bunch of keys,and delivered them to the servant.
"Now, then, draw nearer to the fire, " she continued. "You'vebrought your luggage with you, haven't you, my dear?"
"Yes, ma'am. "
"I'll see it carried into your room, " she said, and bustled out.
"She treats me like a visitor, " thought I. "I little expected sucha reception; I anticipated only coldness and stiffness: this isnot like what I have heard of the treatment of governesses; but Imust not exult too soon. "
She returned; with her own hands cleared her knitting apparatusand a book or two from the table, to make room for the tray whichLeah now brought, and then herself handed me the refreshments. Ifelt rather confused at being the object of more attention thanI had ever before received, and, that too, shown by my employerand superior; but as she did not herself seem to consider she wasdoing anything out of her place, I thought it better to take hercivilities quietly.
"Shall I have the pleasure of seeing Miss Fairfax to-night?" Iasked, when I had partaken of what she offered me.
"What did you say, my dear? I am a little deaf, " returned the goodlady, approaching her ear to my mouth.
I repeated the question more distinctly.
"Miss Fairfax? Oh, you mean Miss Varens! Varens is the name ofyour future pupil. "
"Indeed! Then she is not your daughter?"
"No, -- I have no family. "
I should have followed up my first inquiry, by asking in what wayMiss Varens was connected with her; but I recollected it was notpolite to ask too many questions: besides, I was sure to hear intime.
"I am so glad, " she continued, as she sat down opposite to me, andtook the cat on her knee; "I am so glad you are come; it will bequite pleasant living here now with a companion. To be sure itis pleasant at any time; for Thornfield is a fine old hall, ratherneglected of late years perhaps, but still it is a respectableplace; yet you know in winter-time one feels dreary quite alone inthe best quarters. I say alone -- Leah is a nice girl to be sure,and John and his wife are very decent people; but then you seethey are only servants, and one can't converse with them on termsof equality: one must keep them at due distance, for fear of losingone's authority. I'm sure last winter (it was a very severe one,if you recollect, and when it did not snow, it rained and blew),not a creature but the butcher and postman came to the house, fromNovember till February; and I really got quite melancholy with sittingnight after night alone; I had Leah in to read to me sometimes;but I don't think the poor girl liked the task much: she felt itconfining. In spring and summer one got on better: sunshine andlong days make such a difference; and then, just at the commencementof this autumn, little Adela Varens came and her nurse: a childmakes a house alive all at once; and now you are here I shall bequite gay. "
My heart really warmed to the worthy lady as I heard her talk; andI drew my chair a little nearer to her, and expressed my sincerewish that she might find my company as agreeable as she anticipated.
"But I'll not keep you sitting up late to-night, " said she; "it ison the stroke of twelve now, and you have been travelling all day:you must feel tired. If you have got your feet well warmed, I'llshow you your bedroom. I've had the room next to mine prepared foryou; it is only a small apartment, but I thought you would like itbetter than one of the large front chambers: to be sure they havefiner furniture, but they are so dreary and solitary, I never sleepin them myself. "
I thanked her for her considerate choice, and as I really feltfatigued with my long journey, expressed my readiness to retire.She took her candle, and I followed her from the room. First shewent to see if the hall-door was fastened; having taken the keyfrom the lock, she led the way upstairs. The steps and banisterswere of oak; the staircase window was high and latticed; both itand the long gallery into which the bedroom doors opened lookedas if they belonged to a church rather than a house. A very chilland vault-like air pervaded the stairs and gallery, suggesting cheerlessideas of space and solitude; and I was glad, when finally usheredinto my chamber, to find it of small dimensions, and furnished inordinary, modern style.
When Mrs. Fairfax had bidden me a kind good-night, and I had fastenedmy door, gazed leisurely round, and in some measure effaced theeerie impression made by that wide hall, that dark and spaciousstaircase, and that long, cold gallery, by the livelier aspect ofmy little room, I remembered that, after a day of bodily fatigueand mental anxiety, I was now at last in safe haven. The impulseof gratitude swelled my heart, and I knelt down at the bedside,and offered up thanks where thanks were due; not forgetting, ere Irose, to implore aid on my further path, and the power of meritingthe kindness which seemed so frankly offered me before it wasearned. My couch had no thorns in it that night; my solitary roomno fears. At once weary and content, I slept soon and soundly:when I awoke it was broad day.
The chamber looked such a bright little place to me as the sun shonein between the gay blue chintz window curtains, showing paperedwalls and a carpeted floor, so unlike the bare planks and stainedplaster of Lowood, that my spirits rose at the view. Externalshave a great effect on the young: I thought that a fairer era oflife was beginning for me, one that was to have its flowers andpleasures, as well as its thorns and toils. My faculties, rousedby the change of scene, the new field offered to hope, seemed allastir. I cannot precisely define what they expected, but it wassomething pleasant: not perhaps that day or that month, but at anindefinite future period.
I rose; I dressed myself with care: obliged to be plain -- for Ihad no article of attire that was not made with extreme simplicity-- I was still by nature solicitous to be neat. It was not my habitto be disregardful of appearance or careless of the impression Imade: on the contrary, I ever wished to look as well as I could,and to please as much as my want of beauty would permit. I sometimesregretted that I was not handsomer; I sometimes wished to have rosycheeks, a straight nose, and small cherry mouth; I desired to betall, stately, and finely developed in figure; I felt it a misfortunethat I was so little, so pale, and had features so irregular andso marked. And why had I these aspirations and these regrets?It would be difficult to say: I could not then distinctly say itto myself; yet I had a reason, and a logical, natural reason too.However, when I had brushed my hair very smooth, and put on my blackfrock -- which, Quakerlike as it was, at least had the merit offitting to a nicety -- and adjusted my clean white tucker, I thoughtI should do respectably enough to appear before Mrs. Fairfax, andthat my new pupil would not at least recoil from me with antipathy.Having opened my chamber window, and seen that I left all thingsstraight and neat on the toilet table, I ventured forth.
Traversing the long and matted gallery, I descended the slipperysteps of oak; then I gained the hall: I halted there a minute; Ilooked at some pictures on the walls (one, I remember, representeda grim man in a cuirass, and one a lady with powdered hair and apearl necklace), at a bronze lamp pendent from the ceiling, at a greatclock whose case was of oak curiously carved, and ebon black withtime and rubbing. Everything appeared very stately and imposing tome; but then I was so little accustomed to grandeur. The hall-door,which was half of glass, stood open; I stepped over the threshold.It was a fine autumn morning; the early sun shone serenely onembrowned groves and still green fields; advancing on to the lawn,I looked up and surveyed the front of the mansion. It was threestoreys high, of proportions not vast, though considerable: agentleman's manor-house, not a nobleman's seat: battlements roundthe top gave it a picturesque look. Its grey front stood out wellfrom the background of a rookery, whose cawing tenants were now onthe wing: they flew over the lawn and grounds to alight in a greatmeadow, from which these were separated by a sunk fence, and wherean array of mighty old thorn trees, strong, knotty, and broad asoaks, at once explained the etymology of the mansion's designation.Farther off were hills: not so lofty as those round Lowood, nor socraggy, nor so like barriers of separation from the living world;but yet quiet and lonely hills enough, and seeming to embraceThornfield with a seclusion I had not expected to find existentso near the stirring locality of Millcote. A little hamlet, whoseroofs were blent with trees, straggled up the side of one of thesehills; the church of the district stood nearer Thornfield: itsold tower-top looked over a knoll between the house and gates.
I was yet enjoying the calm prospect and pleasant fresh air, yetlistening with delight to the cawing of the rooks, yet surveyingthe wide, hoary front of the hall, and thinking what a great placeit was for one lonely little dame like Mrs. Fairfax to inhabit,when that lady appeared at the door.
"What! out already?" said she. "I see you are an early riser. "I went up to her, and was received with an affable kiss and shakeof the hand.
"How do you like Thornfield?" she asked. I told her I liked itvery much.
"Yes, " she said, "it is a pretty place; but I fear it will begetting out of order, unless Mr. Rochester should take it into hishead to come and reside here permanently; or, at least, visit itrather oftener: great houses and fine grounds require the presenceof the proprietor. "
"Mr. Rochester!" I exclaimed. "Who is he?"
"The owner of Thornfield, " she responded quietly. "Did you notknow he was called Rochester?"
Of course I did not -- I had never heard of him before; but theold lady seemed to regard his existence as a universally understoodfact, with which everybody must be acquainted by instinct.
"I thought, " I continued, "Thornfield belonged to you. "
"To me? Bless you, child; what an idea! To me! I am only thehousekeeper -- the manager. To be sure I am distantly related tothe Rochesters by the mother's side, or at least my husband was;he was a clergyman, incumbent of Hay -- that little village yonderon the hill -- and that church near the gates was his. The presentMr. Rochester's mother was a Fairfax, and second cousin to myhusband: but I never presume on the connection -- in fact, it isnothing to me; I consider myself quite in the light of an ordinaryhousekeeper: my employer is always civil, and I expect nothingmore. "
"And the little girl -- my pupil!"
"She is Mr. Rochester's ward; he commissioned me to find a governessfor her. He intended to have her brought up in -shire, I believe.Here she comes, with her 'bonne, ' as she calls her nurse. " Theenigma then was explained: this affable and kind little widow wasno great dame; but a dependant like myself. I did not like her theworse for that; on the contrary, I felt better pleased than ever.The equality between her and me was real; not the mere result ofcondescension on her part: so much the better -- my position wasall the freer.
As I was meditating on this discovery, a little girl, followed byher attendant, came running up the lawn. I looked at my pupil,who did not at first appear to notice me: she was quite a child,perhaps seven or eight years old, slightly built, with a pale,small-featured face, and a redundancy of hair falling in curls toher waist.
"Good morning, Miss Adela, " said Mrs. Fairfax. "Come and speak tothe lady who is to teach you, and to make you a clever woman someday. " She approached.
"C'est le ma gouverante!" said she, pointing to me, andaddressing her nurse; who answered -
"Mais oui, certainement. "
"Are they foreigners?" I inquired, amazed at hearing the Frenchlanguage.
"The nurse is a foreigner, and Adela was born on the Continent;and, I believe, never left it till within six months ago. Whenshe first came here she could speak no English; now she can makeshift to talk it a little: I don't understand her, she mixes itso with French; but you will make out her meaning very well, I daresay. "
Fortunately I had had the advantage of being taught French by aFrench lady; and as I had always made a point of conversing withMadame Pierrot as often as I could, and had besides, during the lastseven years, learnt a portion of French by heart daily -- applyingmyself to take pains with my accent, and imitating as closely aspossible the pronunciation of my teacher, I had acquired a certaindegree of readiness and correctness in the language, and was notlikely to be much at a loss with Mademoiselle Adela. She came andshook hand with me when she heard that I was her governess; and asI led her in to breakfast, I addressed some phrases to her in herown tongue: she replied briefly at first, but after we were seatedat the table, and she had examined me some ten minutes with herlarge hazel eyes, she suddenly commenced chattering fluently.