米德尔马契 英文版 Middlemarch
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER LVII.
They numbered scarce eight summers when a nameRose on their souls and stirred such motions thereAs thrill the buds and shape their hidden frameAt penetration of the quickening air:His name who told of loyal Evan Dhu,Of quaint Bradwardine, and Vich Ian Vor,Making the little world their childhood knewLarge with a land of mountain lake and scaur,And larger yet with wonder love beliefToward Walter Scott who living far awaySent them this wealth of joy and noble grief.The book and they must part, but day by day,In lines that thwart like portly spiders ranThey wrote the tale, from Tully Veolan.
The evening that Fred Vincy walked to Lowick parsonage (hehad begun to see that this was a world in which even a spiritedyoung man must sometimes walk for want of a horse to carry him)he set out at five o'clock and called on Mrs. Garth by the way,wishing to assure himself that she accepted their new relations willingly.
He found the family group, dogs and cats included, under the greatapple-tree in the orchard. It was a festival with Mrs. Garth,for her eldest son, Christy, her peculiar joy and pride, had comehome for a short holiday--Christy, who held it the most desirablething in the world to be a tutor, to study all literatures and be aregenerate Porson, and who was an incorporate criticism on poor Fred,a sort of object-lesson given to him by the educational mother.Christy himself, a square-browed, broad-shouldered masculine editionof his mother not much higher than Fred's shoulder--which made itthe harder that he should be held superior--was always as simpleas possible, and thought no more of Fred's disinclination to scholarshipthan of a giraffe's, wishing that he himself were more of thesame height. He was lying on the ground now by his mother's chair,with his straw hat laid flat over his eyes, while Jim on the otherside was reading aloud from that beloved writer who has madea chief part in the happiness of many young lives. The volume was"Ivanhoe," and Jim was in the great archery scene at the tournament,but suffered much interruption from Ben, who had fetched his ownold bow and arrows, and was making himself dreadfully disagreeable,Letty thought, by begging all present to observe his random shots,which no one wished to do except Brownie, the active-minded butprobably shallow mongrel, while the grizzled Newfoundland lying inthe sun looked on with the dull-eyed neutrality of extreme old age.Letty herself, showing as to her mouth and pinafore some slightsigns that she had been assisting at the gathering of the cherrieswhich stood in a coral-heap on the tea-table, was now seatedon the grass, listening open-eyed to the reading.
But the centre of interest was changed for all by the arrivalof Fred Vincy. When, seating himself on a garden-stool, he saidthat he was on his way to Lowick Parsonage, Ben, who had throwndown his bow, and snatched up a reluctant half-grown kitten instead,strode across Fred's outstretched leg, and said "Take me!"
"Oh, and me too," said Letty.
"You can't keep up with Fred and me," said Ben.
"Yes, I can. Mother, please say that I am to go," urged Letty,whose life was much checkered by resistance to her depreciationas a girl.
"I shall stay with Christy," observed Jim; as much as to saythat he had the advantage of those simpletons; whereupon Lettyput her hand up to her head and looked with jealous indecisionfrom the one to the other.
"Let us all go and see Mary," said Christy, opening his arms.
"No, my dear child, we must not go in a swarm to the parsonage.And that old Glasgow suit of yours would never do. Besides, yourfather will come home. We must let Fred go alone. He can tellMary that you are here, and she will come back to-morrow."
Christy glanced at his own threadbare knees, and then at Fred'sbeautiful white trousers. Certainly Fred's tailoring suggestedthe advantages of an English university, and he had a graceful wayeven of looking warm and of pushing his hair back with his handkerchief.
"Children, run away," said Mrs. Garth; "it is too warm to hangabout your friends. Take your brother and show him the rabbits."
The eldest understood, and led off the children immediately.Fred felt that Mrs. Garth wished to give him an opportunity of sayinganything he had to say, but he could only begin by observing--
"How glad you must be to have Christy here!"
"Yes; he has come sooner than I expected. He got down from the coachat nine o'clock, just after his father went out. I am longing forCaleb to come and hear what wonderful progress Christy is making.He has paid his expenses for the last year by giving lessons,carrying on hard study at the same time. He hopes soon to geta private tutorship and go abroad."
"He is a great fellow," said Fred, to whom these cheerfultruths had a medicinal taste, "and no trouble to anybody."After a slight pause, he added, "But I fear you will thinkthat I am going to be a great deal of trouble to Mr. Garth."
"Caleb likes taking trouble: he is one of those men who alwaysdo more than any one would have thought of asking them to do,"answered Mrs. Garth. She was knitting, and could either look atFred or not, as she chose--always an advantage when one is benton loading speech with salutary meaning; and though Mrs. Garthintended to be duly reserved, she did wish to say somethingthat Fred might be the better for.
"I know you think me very undeserving, Mrs. Garth, and with good reason,"said Fred, his spirit rising a little at the perception of somethinglike a disposition to lecture him. "I happen to have behaved justthe worst to the people I can't help wishing for the most from.But while two men like Mr. Garth and Mr. Farebrother have not givenme up, I don't see why I should give myself up." Fred thought itmight be well to suggest these masculine examples to Mrs. Garth.
"Assuredly," said she, with gathering emphasis. "A young manfor whom two such elders had devoted themselves would indeed beculpable if he threw himself away and made their sacrifices vain."
Fred wondered a little at this strong language, but only said,"I hope it will not be so with me, Mrs. Garth, since I have someencouragement to believe that I may win Mary. Mr. Garth has toldyou about that? You were not surprised, I dare say?" Fred ended,innocently referring only to his own love as probably evident enough.
"Not surprised that Mary has given you encouragement?"returned Mrs. Garth, who thought it would be well for Fred to bemore alive to the fact that Mary's friends could not possiblyhave wished this beforehand, whatever the Vincys might suppose."Yes, I confess I was surprised."
"She never did give me any--not the least in the world, when Italked to her myself," said Fred, eager to vindicate Mary."But when I asked Mr. Farebrother to speak for me, she allowed himto tell me there was a hope."
The power of admonition which had begun to stir in Mrs. Garth hadnot yet discharged itself. It was a little too provoking even for_her_ self-control that this blooming youngster should flourishon the disappointments of sadder and wiser people--making a mealof a nightingale and never knowing it--and that all the while hisfamily should suppose that hers was in eager need of this sprig;and her vexation had fermented the more actively because of its totalrepression towards her husband. Exemplary wives will sometimesfind scapegoats in this way. She now said with energetic decision,"You made a great mistake, Fred, in asking Mr. Farebrother to speakfor you."
"Did I?" said Fred, reddening instantaneously. He was alarmed,but at a loss to know what Mrs. Garth meant, and added,in an apologetic tone, "Mr. Farebrother has always been sucha friend of ours; and Mary, I knew, would listen to him gravely;and he took it on himself quite readily."
"Yes, young people are usually blind to everything but their own wishes,and seldom imagine how much those wishes cost others," said Mrs. GarthShe did not mean to go beyond this salutary general doctrine,and threw her indignation into a needless unwinding of her worsted,knitting her brow at it with a grand air.
"I cannot conceive how it could be any pain to Mr. Farebrother,"said Fred, who nevertheless felt that surprising conceptions werebeginning to form themselves.
"Precisely; you cannot conceive," said Mrs. Garth, cutting her wordsas neatly as possible.
For a moment Fred looked at the horizon with a dismayed anxiety,and then turning with a quick movement said almost sharply--
"Do you mean to say, Mrs. Garth, that Mr. Farebrother is in lovewith Mary?"
"And if it were so, Fred, I think you are the last person whoought to be surprised," returned Mrs. Garth, laying her knittingdown beside her and folding her arms. It was an unwonted signof emotion in her that she should put her work out of her hands.In fact her feelings were divided between the satisfaction of givingFred his discipline and the sense of having gone a little too far.Fred took his hat and stick and rose quickly.
"Then you think I am standing in his way, and in Mary's too?"he said, in a tone which seemed to demand an answer.
Mrs. Garth could not speak immediately. She had brought herself intothe unpleasant position of being called on to say what she really felt,yet what she knew there were strong reasons for concealing.And to her the consciousness of having exceeded in words waspeculiarly mortifying. Besides, Fred had given out unexpectedelectricity, and he now added, "Mr. Garth seemed pleased thatMary should be attached to me. He could not have known anything of this."
Mrs. Garth felt a severe twinge at this mention of her husband, the fearthat Caleb might think her in the wrong not being easily endurable.She answered, wanting to check unintended consequences--
"I spoke from inference only. I am not aware that Mary knowsanything of the matter."
But she hesitated to beg that he would keep entire silence on asubject which she had herself unnecessarily mentioned, not beingused to stoop in that way; and while she was hesitating therewas already a rush of unintended consequences under the apple-treewhere the tea-things stood. Ben, bouncing across the grass withBrownie at his heels, and seeing the kitten dragging the knittingby a lengthening line of wool, shouted and clapped his hands;Brownie barked, the kitten, desperate, jumped on the tea-table andupset the milk, then jumped down again and swept half the cherrieswith it; and Ben, snatching up the half-knitted sock-top, fittedit over the kitten's head as a new source of madness, while Lettyarriving cried out to her mother against this cruelty--it was ahistory as full of sensation as "This is the house that Jack built."Mrs. Garth was obliged to interfere, the other young ones came upand the tete-a-tete with Fred was ended. He got away as soonas he could, and Mrs. Garth could only imply some retractationof her severity by saying "God bless you" when she shook hands with him.
She was unpleasantly conscious that she had been on the vergeof speaking as "one of the foolish women speaketh"--telling firstand entreating silence after. But she had not entreated silence,and to prevent Caleb's blame she determined to blame herself andconfess all to him that very night. It was curious what an awfultribunal the mild Caleb's was to her, whenever he set it up.But she meant to point out to him that the revelation might do FredVincy a great deal of good.
No doubt it was having a strong effect on him as he walked to Lowick.Fred's light hopeful nature had perhaps never had so much of abruise as from this suggestion that if he had been out of the wayMary might have made a thoroughly good match. Also he was piquedthat he had been what he called such a stupid lout as to ask thatintervention from Mr. Farebrother. But it was not in a lover's nature--it was not in Fred's, that the new anxiety raised about Mary'sfeeling should not surmount every other. Notwithstanding histrust in Mr. Farebrother's generosity, notwithstanding what Maryhad said to him, Fred could not help feeling that he had a rival:it was a new consciousness, and he objected to it extremely,not being in the least ready to give up Mary for her good, being readyrather to fight for her with any man whatsoever. But the fightingwith Mr. Farebrother must be of a metaphorical kind, which was muchmore difficult to Fred than the muscular. Certainly this experiencewas a discipline for Fred hardly less sharp than his disappointmentabout his uncle's will. The iron had not entered into his soul,but he had begun to imagine what the sharp edge would be.It did not once occur to Fred that Mrs. Garth might be mistakenabout Mr. Farebrother, but he suspected that she might be wrongabout Mary. Mary had been staying at the parsonage lately, and hermother might know very little of what had been passing in her mind.
He did not feel easier when he found her looking cheerful with thethree ladies in the drawing-room. They were in animated discussionon some subject which was dropped when he entered, and Marywas copying the labels from a heap of shallow cabinet drawers,in a minute handwriting which she was skilled in. Mr. Farebrotherwas somewhere in the village, and the three ladies knew nothingof Fred's peculiar relation to Mary: it was impossible for eitherof them to propose that they should walk round the garden,and Fred predicted to himself that he should have to go away withoutsaying a word to her in private. He told her first of Christy'sarrival and then of his own engagement with her father; and hewas comforted by seeing that this latter news touched her keenly.She said hurriedly, "I am so glad," and then bent over her writingto hinder any one from noticing her face. But here was a subjectwhich Mrs. Farebrother could not let pass.
"You don't mean, my dear Miss Garth, that you are glad to hearof a young man giving up the Church for which he was educated:you only mean that things being so, you are glad that he should beunder an excellent man like your father."
"No, really, Mrs. Farebrother, I am glad of both, I fear,"said Mary, cleverly getting rid of one rebellious tear."I have a dreadfully secular mind. I never liked any clergymanexcept the Vicar of Wakefield and Mr. Farebrother."
"Now why, my dear?" said Mrs. Farebrother, pausing on her largewooden knitting-needles and looking at Mary. "You have alwaysa good reason for your opinions, but this astonishes me.Of course I put out of the question those who preach new doctrine.But why should you dislike clergymen?"
"Oh dear," said Mary, her face breaking into merriment as sheseemed to consider a moment, "I don't like their neckcloths."
"Why, you don't like Camden's, then," said Miss Winifred,in some anxiety.
"Yes, I do," said Mary. "I don't like the other clergymen's neckcloths,because it is they who wear them."
"How very puzzling!" said Miss Noble, feeling that her own intellectwas probably deficient.
"My dear, you are joking. You would have better reasonsthan these for slighting so respectable a class of men,"said Mrs. Farebrother, majestically.
"Miss Garth has such severe notions of what people should be that itis difficult to satisfy her," said Fred.
"Well, I am glad at least that she makes an exception in favorof my son," said the old lady.
Mary was wondering at Fred's piqued tone, when Mr. Farebrother camein and had to hear the news about the engagement under Mr. Garth.At the end he said with quiet satisfaction, "_That_ is right;"and then bent to look at Mary's labels and praise her handwriting.Fred felt horribly jealous--was glad, of course, that Mr. Farebrotherwas so estimable, but wished that he had been ugly and fat as menat forty sometimes are. It was clear what the end would be,since Mary openly placed Farebrother above everybody, and thesewomen were all evidently encouraging the affair. He, was feelingsure that he should have no chance of speaking to Mary,when Mr. Farebrother said--
"Fred, help me to carry these drawers back into my study--you have never seen my fine new study. Pray come too, Miss Garth.I want you to see a stupendous spider I found this morning."
Mary at once saw the Vicar's intention. He had never since thememorable evening deviated from his old pastoral kindness towards her,and her momentary wonder and doubt had quite gone to sleep.Mary was accustomed to think rather rigorously of what was probable,and if a belief flattered her vanity she felt warned to dismiss itas ridiculous, having early had much exercise in such dismissals.It was as she had foreseen: when Fred had been asked to admire thefittings of the study, and she had been asked to admire the spider,Mr. Farebrother said--
"Wait here a minute or two. I am going to look out an engravingwhich Fred is tall enough to hang for me. I shall be back in afew minutes." And then he went out. Nevertheless, the firstword Fred said to Mary was--
"It is of no use, whatever I do, Mary. You are sure to marryFarebrother at last." There was some rage in his tone.
"What do you mean, Fred?" Mary exclaimed indignantly, blushing deeply,and surprised out of all her readiness in reply.
"It is impossible that you should not see it all clearly enough--you who see everything."
"I only see that you are behaving very ill, Fred, in speaking soof Mr. Farebrother after he has pleaded your cause in every way.How can you have taken up such an idea?"
Fred was rather deep, in spite of his irritation. If Maryhad really been unsuspicious, there was no good in tellingher what Mrs. Garth had said.
"It follows as a matter of course," he replied. "When you arecontinually seeing a man who beats me in everything, and whomyou set up above everybody, I can have no fair chance."
"You are very ungrateful, Fred," said Mary. "I wish I had nevertold Mr. Farebrother that I cared for you in the least."
"No, I am not ungrateful; I should be the happiest fellow in theworld if it were not for this. I told your father everything,and he was very kind; he treated me as if I were his son.I could go at the work with a will, writing and everything, if itwere not for this."
"For this? for what?" said Mary, imagining now that somethingspecific must have been said or done.
"This dreadful certainty that I shall be bowled out by Farebrother."Mary was appeased by her inclination to laugh.
"Fred," she said, peeping round to catch his eyes, which weresulkily turned away from her, "you are too delightfully ridiculous.If you were not such a charming simpleton, what a temptationthis would be to play the wicked coquette, and let you supposethat somebody besides you has made love to me."
"Do you really like me best, Mary?" said Fred, turning eyes fullof affection on her, and trying to take her hand.
"I don't like you at all at this moment," said Mary, retreating,and putting her hands behind her. "I only said that no mortalever made love to me besides you. And that is no argumentthat a very wise man ever will," she ended, merrily.
"I wish you would tell me that you could not possibly ever thinkof him," said Fred.
"Never dare to mention this any more to me, Fred," said Mary,getting serious again. "I don't know whether it is more stupidor ungenerous in you not to see that Mr. Farebrother has left ustogether on purpose that we might speak freely. I am disappointedthat you should be so blind to his delicate feeling."
There was no time to say any more before Mr. Farebrother came backwith the engraving; and Fred had to return to the drawing-room stillwith a jealous dread in his heart, but yet with comforting argumentsfrom Mary's words and manner. The result of the conversation was onthe whole more painful to Mary: inevitably her attention had takena new attitude, and she saw the possibility of new interpretations.She was in a position in which she seemed to herself to be slightingMr. Farebrother, and this, in relation to a man who is much honored,is always dangerous to the firmness of a grateful woman.To have a reason for going home the next day was a relief, for Maryearnestly desired to be always clear that she loved Fred best.When a tender affection has been storing itself in us through manyof our years, the idea that we could accept any exchange for itseems to be a cheapening of our lives. And we can set a watch overour affections and our constancy as we can over other treasures.
"Fred has lost all his other expectations; he must keep this,"Mary said to herself, with a smile curling her lips. It wasimpossible to help fleeting visions of another kind--new dignitiesand an acknowledged value of which she had often felt the absence.But these things with Fred outside them, Fred forsaken and lookingsad for the want of her, could never tempt her deliberate thought.