第 18 节
作者:
温暖寒冬 更新:2024-04-09 19:50 字数:9193
conservatism in costume which tells you that he is not a young
man。 He will perhaps turn round by and by; and in the meantime
we can look at that stately old lady; his mother; a beautiful aged
brunette; whose rich…toned complexion is well set off by the
complex wrappings of pure white cambric and lace about her head
and neck。 She is as erect in her comely embonpoint as a statue of
Ceres; and her dark face; with its delicate aquiline nose; firm
proud mouth; and small; intense; black eye; is so keen and
sarcastic in its expression that you instinctively substitute a pack
of cards for the chess…men and imagine her telling your fortune。
The small brown hand with which she is lifting her queen is laden
with pearls; diamonds; and turquoises; and a large black veil is
very carefully adjusted over the crown of her cap; and falls in
sharp contrast on the white folds about her neck。 It must take a
long time to dress that old lady in the morning! But it seems a law
of nature that she should be dressed so: she is clearly one of those
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children of royalty who have never doubted their right divine and
never met with any one so absurd as to question it。
“There; Dauphin; tell me what that is!” says this magnificent
old lady; as she deposits her queen very quietly and folds her
arms。 “I should be sorry to utter a word disagreeable to your
feelings。”
“Ah; you witch…mother; you sorceress! How is a Christian man
to win a game off you? I should have sprinkled the board with holy
water before we began。 You’ve not won that game by fair means;
now; so don’t pretend it。”
“Yes; yes; that’s what the beaten have always said of great
conquerors。 But see; there’s the sunshine falling on the board; to
show you more clearly what a foolish move you made with that
pawn。 Come; shall I give you another chance?”
“No; Mother; I shall leave you to your own conscience; now it’s
clearing up。 We must go and plash up the mud a little; mus’n’t we;
Juno?” This was addressed to the brown setter; who had jumped
up at the sound of the voices and laid her nose in an insinuating
way on her master’s leg。 “But I must go upstairs first and see
Anne。 I was called away to Tholer’s funeral just when I was going
before。”
“It’s of no use; child; she can’t speak to you。 Kate says she has
one of her worst headaches this morning。”
“Oh; she likes me to go and see her just the same; she’s never
too ill to care about that。”
If you know how much of human speech is mere purposeless
impulse or habit; you will not wonder when I tell you that this
identical objection had been made; and had received the same
kind of answer; many hundred times in the course of the fifteen
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years that Mr。 Irwine’s sister Anne had been an invalid。 Splendid
old ladies; who take a long time to dress in the morning; have often
slight sympathy with sickly daughters。
But while Mr。 Irwine was still seated; leaning back in his chair
and stroking Juno’s head; the servant came to the door and said;
“If you please; sir; Joshua Rann wishes to speak with you; if you
are at liberty。”
“Let him be shown in here;” said Mrs。 Irwine; taking up her
knitting。 “I always like to hear what Mr。 Rann has got to say。 His
shoes will be dirty; but see that he wipes them Carroll。”
In two minutes Mr。 Rann appeared at the door with very
deferential bows; which; however; were far from conciliating Pug;
who gave a sharp bark and ran across the room to reconnoitre the
stranger’s legs; while the two puppies; regarding Mr。 Rann’s
prominent calf and ribbed worsted stockings from a more
sensuous point of view; plunged and growled over them in great
enjoyment。 Meantime; Mr。 Irwine turned round his chair and said;
“Well; Joshua; anything the matter at Hayslope; that you’ve come
over this damp morning? Sit down; sit down。 Never mind the
dogs; give them a friendly kick。 Here; Pug; you rascal!”
It is very pleasant to see some men turn round; pleasant as a
sudden rush of warm air in winter; or the flash of firelight in the
chill dusk。 Mr。 Irwine was one of those men。 He bore the same sort
of resemblance to his mother that our loving memory of a friend’s
face often bears to the face itself: the lines were all more generous;
the smile brighter; the expression heartier。 If the outline had been
less finely cut; his face might have been called jolly; but that was
not the right word for its mixture of bonhomie and distinction。
“Thank Your Reverence;” answered Mr。 Rann; endeavouring to
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look unconcerned about his legs; but shaking them alternately to
keep off the puppies; “I’ll stand; if you please; as more becoming。 I
hope I see you an’ Mrs。 Irwine well; an’ Miss Irwine—an’ Miss
Anne; I hope’s as well as usual。”
“Yes; Joshua; thank you。 You see how blooming my mother
looks。 She beats us younger people hollow。 But what’s the
matter?”
“Why; sir; I had to come to Brox’on to deliver some work; and I
thought it but right to call and let you know the goins…on as there’s
been i’ the village; such as I hanna seen i’ my time; and I’ve lived
in it man and boy sixty year come St。 Thomas; and collected th’
Easter dues for Mr。 Blick before Your Reverence come into the
parish; and been at the ringin’ o’ every bell; and the diggin’ o’
every grave; and sung i’ the choir long afore Bartle Massey come
from nobody knows where; wi’ his counter…singin’ and fine
anthems; as puts everybody out but himself—one takin’ it up after
another like sheep a…bleatin’ i’ th’ fold。 I know what belongs to
bein’ a parish clerk; and I know as I should be wantin’ i’ respect to
Your Reverence; an’ church; an’ king; if I was t’ allow such goins…
on wi’out speakin’。 I was took by surprise; an’ knowed nothin’ on it
beforehand; an’ I was so flustered; I was clean as if I’d lost my
tools。 I hanna slep’ more nor four hour this night as is past an’
gone; an’ then it was nothin’ but nightmare; as tired me worse nor
wakin’。”
“Why; what in the world is the matter; Joshua? Have the
thieves been at the church lead again?”
“Thieves! No; sir—an’ yet; as I may say; it is thieves; an’ a…
thievin’ the church; too。 It’s the Methodisses as is like to get th’
upper hand i’ th’ parish; if Your Reverence an’ His Honour; Squire
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Donnithorne; doesna think well to say the word an’ forbid it。 Not
as I’m a…dictatin’ to you; sir; I’m not forgettin’ myself so far as to be
wise above my betters。 Howiver; whether I’m wise or no; that’s
neither here nor there; but what I’ve got to say I say—as the young
Methodis woman as is at Mester Poyser’s was a…preachin’ an’ a…
prayin’ on the Green last night; as sure as I’m a…stannin’ afore
Your Reverence now。”
“Preaching on the Green!” said Mr。 Irwine; looking surprised
but quite serene。 “What; that pale pretty young woman I’ve seen
at Poyser’s? I saw she was a Methodist; or Quaker; or something of
that sort; by her dress; but I didn’t know she was a preacher。”
“It’s a true word as I say; sir;