怀尔德菲尔府的房客 英文版 The Tenant of Wildfell Hall
安妮.勃朗特 Anne Bronte
CHAPTER XXXIII Page 2
I heard the drawing-room door open: a light quick step came out ofthe ante-room, crossed the hall, and ascended the stairs. It wasMilicent, poor Milicent, gone to see how I was - no one else caredfor me; but she still was kind. I shed no tears before, but nowthey came, fast and free. Thus she did me good, withoutapproaching me. Disappointed in her search, I heard her come down,more slowly than she had ascended. Would she come in there, andfind me out? No, she turned in the opposite direction and re-entered the drawing-room. I was glad, for I knew not how to meether, or what to say. I wanted no confidante in my distress. Ideserved none, and I wanted none. I had taken the burden uponmyself; let me bear it alone.
As the usual hour of retirement approached I dried my eyes, andtried to clear my voice and calm my mind. I must see Arthur to-night, and speak to him; but I would do it calmly: there should beno scene - nothing to complain or to boast of to his companions -nothing to laugh at with his lady-love. When the company wereretiring to their chambers I gently opened the door, and just as hepassed, beckoned him in.
'What's to do with you, Helen?' said he. 'Why couldn't you come tomake tea for us? and what the deuce are you here for, in the dark?What ails you, young woman: you look like a ghost!' he continued,surveying me by the light of his candle.
'No matter,' I answered, 'to you; you have no longer any regard forme it appears; and I have no longer any for you.'
'Hal-lo! what the devil is this?' he muttered.
'I would leave you to-morrow,' continued I, 'and never again comeunder this roof, but for my child' - I paused a moment to steady,my voice.
'What in the devil's name is this, Helen?' cried he. 'What can yoube driving at?'
'You know perfectly well. Let us waste no time in uselessexplanation, but tell me, will you -?'
He vehemently swore he knew nothing about it, and insisted uponhearing what poisonous old woman had been blackening his name, andwhat infamous lies I had been fool enough to believe.
'Spare yourself the trouble of forswearing yourself and rackingyour brains to stifle truth with falsehood,' I coldly replied. 'Ihave trusted to the testimony of no third person. I was in theshrubbery this evening, and I saw and heard for myself.'
This was enough. He uttered a suppressed exclamation ofconsternation and dismay, and muttering, 'I shall catch it now!'set down his candle on the nearest chair, and rearing his backagainst the wall, stood confronting me with folded arms.
'Well, what then?' said he, with the calm insolence of mingledshamelessness and desperation.
'Only this,' returned I; 'will you let me take our child and whatremains of my fortune, and go?'
'Go where?'
'Anywhere, where he will be safe from your contaminating influence,and I shall be delivered from your presence, and you from mine.'
'No.'
'Will you let me have the child then, without the money?'
'No, nor yourself without the child. Do you think I'm going to bemade the talk of the country for your fastidious caprices?'
'Then I must stay here, to be hated and despised. But henceforthwe are husband and wife only in the name.'
'Very good.'
'I am your child's mother, and your housekeeper, nothing more. Soyou need not trouble yourself any longer to feign the love youcannot feel: I will exact no more heartless caresses from you, noroffer nor endure them either. I will not be mocked with the emptyhusk of conjugal endearments, when you have given the substance toanother!'
'Very good, if you please. We shall see who will tire first, mylady.'
'If I tire, it will be of living in the world with you: not ofliving without your mockery of love. When you tire of your sinfulways, and show yourself truly repentant, I will forgive you, and,perhaps, try to love you again, though that will be hard indeed.'
'Humph! and meantime you will go and talk me over to Mrs. Hargrave,and write long letters to aunt Maxwell to complain of the wickedwretch you have married?'
'I shall complain to no one. Hitherto I have struggled hard tohide your vices from every eye, and invest you with virtues younever possessed; but now you must look to yourself.'
I left him muttering bad language to himself, and went up-stairs.
'You are poorly, ma'am,' said Rachel, surveying me with deepanxiety.
'It is too true, Rachel,' said I, answering her sad looks ratherthan her words.
'I knew it, or I wouldn't have mentioned such a thing.'
'But don't you trouble yourself about it,' said I, kissing herpale, time-wasted cheek. 'I can bear it better than you imagine.'
'Yes, you were always for "bearing." But if I was you I wouldn'tbear it; I'd give way to it, and cry right hard! and I'd talk too,I just would - I'd let him know what it was to - '
'Then I'd cry,' persisted she. 'I wouldn't look so white and socalm, and burst my heart with keeping it in.'
'I have cried,' said I, smiling, in spite of my misery; 'and I amcalm now, really: so don't discompose me again, nurse: let us sayno more about it, and don't mention it to the servants. There, youmay go now. Good-night; and don't disturb your rest for me: Ishall sleep well - if I can.'
Notwithstanding this resolution, I found my bed so intolerablethat, before two o'clock, I rose, and lighting my candle by therushlight that was still burning, I got my desk and sat down in mydressing-gown to recount the events of the past evening. It wasbetter to be so occupied than to be lying in bed torturing my brainwith recollections of the far past and anticipations of thedreadful future. I have found relief in describing the verycircumstances that have destroyed my peace, as well as the littletrivial details attendant upon their discovery. No sleep I couldhave got this night would have done so much towards composing mymind, and preparing me to meet the trials of the day. I fancy so,at least; and yet, when I cease writing, I find my head achesterribly; and when I look into the glass, I am startled at myhaggard, worn appearance.
Rachel has been to dress me, and says I have had a sad night of it,she can see. Milicent has just looked in to ask me how I was. Itold her I was better, but to excuse my appearance admitted I hadhad a restless night. I wish this day were over! I shudder at thethoughts of going down to breakfast. How shall I encounter themall? Yet let me remember it is not I that am guilty: I have nocause to fear; and if they scorn me as a victim of their guilt, Ican pity their folly and despise their scorn.