barnaby rudge(巴纳比·卢杰)-第44章
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the gloomiest scene。 Birds； flowers； books； drawing； music； and a
hundred such graceful tokens of feminine loves and cares； filled it
with more of life and human sympathy than the whole house
besides seemed made to hold。 There was heart in the room； and
who that has a heart； ever fails to recognise the silent presence of
another！
Dolly had one undoubtedly； and it was not a tough one either；
though there was a little mist of coquettishness about it； such as
sometimes surrounds that sun of life in its morning； and slightly
dims its lustre。 Thus； when Emma rose to greet her； and kissing
her affectionately on the cheek； told her； in her quiet way； that she
had been very unhappy； the tears stood in Dolly’s eyes； and she
felt more sorry than she could tell； but next moment she happened
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to raise them to the glass； and really there was something there so
exceedingly agreeable； that as she sighed； she smiled； and felt
surprisingly consoled。
‘I have heard about it； miss；’ said Dolly； ‘and it’s very sad
indeed； but when things are at the worst they are sure to mend。’
‘But are you sure they are at the worst？’ asked Emma with a
smile。
‘Why； I don’t see how they can very well be more unpromising
than they are； I really don’t；’ said Dolly。 ‘And I bring something to
begin with。’
‘Not from Edward？’
Dolly nodded and smiled； and feeling in her pockets （there were
pockets in those days） with an affectation of not being able to find
what she wanted； which greatly enhanced her importance； at
length produced the letter。 As Emma hastily broke the seal and
became absorbed in its contents； Dolly’s eyes； by one of those
strange accidents for which there is no accounting； wandered to
the glass again。 She could not help wondering whether the coach…
maker suffered very much； and quite pitied the poor man。
It was a long letter—a very long letter； written close on all four
sides of the sheet of paper； and crossed afterwards； but it was not
a consolatory letter； for as Emma read it she stopped from time to
time to put her handkerchief to her eyes。 To be sure Dolly
marvelled greatly to see her in so much distress； for to her
thinking a love affair ought to be one of the best jokes； and the
slyest； merriest kind of thing in life。 But she set it down in her own
mind that all this came from Miss Haredale’s being so constant；
and that if she would only take on with some other young
gentleman—just in the most innocent way possible； to keep her
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first lover up to the mark—she would find herself inexpressibly
comforted。
‘I am sure that’s what I should do if it was me；’ thought Dolly。
‘To make one’s sweetheart miserable is well enough and quite
right； but to be made miserable one’s self is a little too much！’
However it wouldn’t do to say so； and therefore she sat looking
on in silence。 She needed a pretty considerable stretch of patience；
for when the long letter had been read once all through it was read
again； and when it had been read twice all through it was read
again。 During this tedious process； Dolly beguiled the time in the
most improving manner that occurred to her； by curling her hair
on her fingers； with the aid of the looking…glass before mentioned；
and giving it some killing twists。
Everything has an end。 Even young ladies in love cannot read
their letters for ever。 In course of time the packet was folded up；
and it only remained to write the answer。
But as this promised to be a work of time likewise； Emma said
she would put it off until after dinner； and that Dolly must dine
with her。 As Dolly had made up her mind to do so beforehand； she
required very little pressing； and when they had settled this point；
they went to walk in the garden。
They strolled up and down the terrace walks； talking
incessantly—at least； Dolly never left off once—and making that
quarter of the sad and mournful house quite gay。 Not that they
talked loudly or laughed much； but they were both so very
handsome； and it was such a breezy day； and their light dresses
and dark curls appeared so free and joyous in their abandonment；
and Emma was so fair； and Dolly so rosy； and Emma so delicately
shaped； and Dolly so plump； and—in short； there are no flowers
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for any garden like such flowers； let horticulturists say what they
may； and both house and garden seemed to know it； and to
brighten up sensibly。
After this； came the dinner and the letter writing； and some
more talking； in the course of which Miss Haredale took occasion
to charge upon Dolly certain flirtish and inconstant propensities；
which accusations Dolly seemed to think very complimentary
indeed； and to be mightily amused with。 Finding her quite
incorrigible in this respect； Emma suffered her to depart； but not
before she had confided to her that important and never…
sufficiently…to…be…taken…care…of answer； and endowed her
moreover with a pretty little bracelet as a keepsake。 Having
clasped it on her arm； and again advised her half in jest and half in
earnest to amend her roguish ways； for she knew she was fond of
Joe at heart （which Dolly stoutly denied； with a great many
haughty protestations that she hoped she could do better than that
indeed！ and so forth）； she bade her farewell； and after calling her
back to give her more supplementary messages for Edward； than
anybody with tenfold the gravity of Dolly Varden could be
reasonably expected to remember； at length dismissed her。
Dolly bade her good bye； and tripping lightly down the stairs
arrived at the dreaded library door； and was about to pass it again
on tiptoe； when it opened； and behold！ there stood Mr Haredale。
Now； Dolly had from her childhood associated with this gentleman
the idea of something grim and ghostly； and being at the moment
conscience…stricken besides； the sight of him threw her into such a
flurry that she could neither acknowledge his presence nor run
away； so she gave a great start； and then with downcast eyes stood
still and trembled。
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‘Come here； girl；’ said Mr Haredale； taking her by the hand。 ‘I
want to speak to you。’
‘If you please； sir； I’m in a hurry；’ faltered Dolly； ‘and—you have
frightened me by coming so suddenly upon me； sir—I would
rather go； sir； if you’ll be so good as to let me。’
‘Immediately；’ said Mr Haredale； who had by this time led her
into the room and closed the door。 You shall go directly。 You have
just left Emma？’
‘Yes； sir； just this minute。—Father’s waiting for me； sir； if you’ll
please to have the goodness—’
I know。 I know；’ said Mr Haredale。 ‘Answer me a question。
What did you bring here to…day？’
‘Bring here； sir？’ faltered Dolly。
‘You will tell me the truth； I am sure。 Yes。’
Dolly hesitated for a little while； and somewhat emboldened by
his manner； said at last； ‘Well then； sir。 It was a letter。’
‘From Mr Edward Chester； of course。 And you are the bearer of
the answer？’
Dolly hesitated again； and not being able to decide upon any
other course of action； burst into tears。
‘You alarm yourself without cause；’ said Mr Haredale。 ‘Why are
you so foolish？ Surely you can answer me。 You know that I have
but to put the question to Emma and learn the truth directly。 Have
you the answer with you？’
Dolly had what is popularly called a spirit of her own； and being
now fairly at bay； made the best of it。
‘Yes； sir；’ she rejoined； trembling and frightened as she was。
‘Yes； sir； I have。 You may kill me if you please； sir； but I won’t give
it up。 I’m very sorry；—but I won’t。 There； sir。’
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‘I commend your firmness and your plain…speaking；’ said Mr
Haredale。 ‘Rest assured that I have as little desire to take your
letter as your life。 You are a very discreet messenger and a good
girl。’
Not feeling quite certain； as she afterwards said； whether he
might not be ‘coming over her’ with these compliments； Dolly kept
as far from him as she could； cried again； and resolved to defend
her pocket （for the letter was there） to the last extremity。
‘I have some design；’ said Mr Haredale after a short silence；
during which a smile； as he regarded her； had struggled through
the gloom and melancholy that was natural to his face； ‘of
providing a companion for my niece； for her life is a very lonely
one。 Would you like the office？ You are the oldest friend she has；
and the best entitled to it。’
‘I don’t know； sir；’ answered Dolly； not sure but he was
bantering her； ‘I can’t say。 I don’t know what they might wish at
home。 I couldn’t give an opinion； sir。’
‘If your friends
