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 LIII Page 2
'But this is too much happiness,' said I, embracing her again; 'Ihave not deserved it, Helen - I dare not believe in such felicity:and the longer I have to wait, the greater will be my dread thatsomething will intervene to snatch you from me - and think, athousand things may happen in a year! - I shall be in one longfever of restless terror and impatience all the time. And besides,winter is such a dreary season.'
'I thought so too,' replied she gravely: 'I would not be marriedin winter - in December, at least,' she added, with a shudder - forin that month had occurred both the ill-starred marriage that hadbound her to her former husband, and the terrible death thatreleased her - 'and therefore I said another year, in spring.'
'Next spring?'
'No, no - next autumn, perhaps.'
'Summer, then?'
'Well, the close of summer. There now! be satisfied.'
While she was speaking Arthur re-entered the room - good boy forkeeping out so long.
'Mamma, I couldn't find the book in either of the places you toldme to look for it' (there was a conscious something in mamma'ssmile that seemed to say, 'No, dear, I knew you could not'), 'butRachel got it for me at last. Look, Mr. Markham, a naturalhistory, with all kinds of birds and beasts in it, and the readingas nice as the pictures!'
In great good humour I sat down to examine the book, and drew thelittle fellow between my knees. Had he come a minute before Ishould have received him less graciously, but now I affectionatelystroked his curling looks, and even kissed his ivory forehead: hewas my own Helen's son, and therefore mine; and as such I have eversince regarded him. That pretty child is now a fine young man: hehas realised his mother's brightest expectations, and is at presentresiding in Grassdale Manor with his young wife - the merry littleHelen Hattersley of yore.
I had not looked through half the book before Mrs. Maxwell appearedto invite me into the other room to lunch. That lady's cool,distant manners rather chilled me at first; but I did my best topropitiate her, and not entirely without success, I think, even inthat first short visit; for when I talked cheerfully to her, shegradually became more kind and cordial, and when I departed shebade me a gracious adieu, hoping ere long to have the pleasure ofseeing me again.
'But you must not go till you have seen the conservatory, my aunt'swinter garden,' said Helen, as I advanced to take leave of her,with as much philosophy and self-command as I could summon to myaid.
I gladly availed myself of such a respite, and followed her into alarge and beautiful conservatory, plentifully furnished withflowers, considering the season - but, of course, I had littleattention to spare for them. It was not, however, for any tendercolloquy that my companion had brought me there:-
'My aunt is particularly fond of flowers,' she observed, 'and sheis fond of Staningley too: I brought you here to offer a petitionin her behalf, that this may be her home as long as she lives, and- if it be not our home likewise - that I may often see her and bewith her; for I fear she will be sorry to lose me; and though sheleads a retired and contemplative life, she is apt to get low-spirited if left too much alone.'
'By all means, dearest Helen! - do what you will with your own. Ishould not dream of wishing your aunt to leave the place under anycircumstances; and we will live either here or elsewhere as you andshe may determine, and you shall see her as often as you like. Iknow she must be pained to part with you, and I am willing to makeany reparation in my power. I love her for your sake, and herhappiness shall be as dear to me as that of my own mother.'
'Thank you, darling! you shall have a kiss for that. Good-by.There now - there, Gilbert - let me go - here's Arthur; don'tastonish his infantile brain with your madness.'
* * * * *
But it is time to bring my narrative to a close. Any one but youwould say I had made it too long already. But for yoursatisfaction I will add a few words more; because I know you willhave a fellow-feeling for the old lady, and will wish to know thelast of her history. I did come again in spring, and, agreeably toHelen's injunctions, did my best to cultivate her acquaintance.She received me very kindly, having been, doubtless, alreadyprepared to think highly of my character by her niece's toofavourable report. I turned my best side out, of course, and wegot along marvellously well together. When my ambitious intentionswere made known to her, she took it more sensibly than I hadventured to hope. Her only remark on the subject, in my hearing,was -
'And so, Mr. Markham, you are going to rob me of my niece, Iunderstand. Well! I hope God will prosper your union, and make mydear girl happy at last. Could she have been contented to remainsingle, I own I should have been better satisfied; but if she mustmarry again, I know of no one, now living and of a suitable age, towhom I would more willingly resign her than yourself, or who wouldbe more likely to appreciate her worth and make, her truly happy,as far as I can tell.'
Of course I was delighted with the compliment, and hoped to showher that she was not mistaken in her favourable judgment.
'I have, however, one request to offer,' continued she. 'It seemsI am still to look on Staningley as my home: I wish you to make ityours likewise, for Helen is attached to the place and to me - as Iam to her. There are painful associations connected withGrassdale, which she cannot easily overcome; and I shall not molestyou with my company or interference here: I am a very quietperson, and shall keep my own apartments, and attend to my ownconcerns, and only see you now and then.'
Of course I most readily consented to this; and we lived in thegreatest harmony with our dear aunt until the day of her death,which melancholy event took place a few years after - melancholy,not to herself (for it came quietly upon her, and she was glad toreach her journey's end), but only to the few loving friends andgrateful dependents she left behind.
To return, however, to my own affairs: I was married in summer, ona glorious August morning. It took the whole eight months, and allHelen's kindness and goodness to boot, to overcome my mother'sprejudices against my bride-elect, and to reconcile her to the ideaof my leaving Linden Grange and living so far away. Yet she wasgratified at her son's good fortune after all, and proudlyattributed it all to his own superior merits and endowments. Ibequeathed the farm to Fergus, with better hopes of its prosperitythan I should have had a year ago under similar circumstances; forhe had lately fallen in love with the Vicar of L-'s eldest daughter- a lady whose superiority had roused his latent virtues, andstimulated him to the most surprising exertions, not only to gainher affection and esteem, and to obtain a fortune sufficient toaspire to her hand, but to render himself worthy of her, in his owneyes, as well as in those of her parents; and in the end he wassuccessful, as you already know. As for myself, I need not tellyou how happily my Helen and I have lived together, and how blessedwe still are in each other's society, and in the promising youngscions that are growing up about us. We are just now lookingforward to the advent of you and Rose, for the time of your annualvisit draws nigh, when you must leave your dusty, smoky, noisy,toiling, striving city for a season of invigorating relaxation andsocial retirement with us.
Staningley too: I brought you here to offer a petitionin.
Till then, farewell,
GILBERT MARKHAM.
STANINGLEY: June 10TH, 1847.