poor miss finch-第3章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


happen　to　be　one　of　the　few　people　who　can　read　dogs'　language　as　written
in　dogs'　faces。　I　correctly　report　the　language　of　the　gentleman
sheep…dog　on　this　occasion。

We　opened　the　gate　of　the　rectory；　and　passed　in。　So　my　Land…Voyage　over
the　South　Down　Hills　came　prosperously　to　its　end。

CHAPTER　THE　THIRD

Poor　Miss　Finch

THE　rectory　resembled；　in　one　respect；　this　narrative　that　I　am　now
writing。　It　was　in　Two　Parts。　Part　the　First；　in　front；　composed　of　the
everlasting　flint　and　mortar　of　the　neighborhood；　failed　to　interest　me。
Part　the　Second；　running　back　at　a　right　angle；　asserted　itself　as
ancient。　It　had　been；　in　its　time；　as　I　afterwards　heard；　a　convent　of
nuns。　Here　were　snug　little　Gothic　windows；　and　dark　ivy…covered　walls　of
venerable　stone：　repaired　in　places；　at　some　past　period；　with　quaint　red
bricks。　I　had　hoped　that　I　should　enter　the　house　by　this　side　of　it。　But
no。　The　boyafter　appearing　to　be　at　a　loss　what　to　do　with　meled　the
way　to　a　door　on　the　modern　side　of　the　building；　and　rang　the　bell。

A　slovenly　young　maid…servant　admitted　me　to　the　house。

Possibly；　this　person　was　new　to　the　duty　of　receiving　visitors。
Possibly；　she　was　bewildered　by　a　sudden　invasion　of　children　in　dirty
frocks；　darting　out　on　us　in　the　hall；　and　then　darting　away　again　into
invisible　back　regions；　screeching　at　the　sight　of　a　stranger。　At　any
rate；　she　too　appeared　to　be　at　a　loss　what　to　do　with　me。　After　staring
hard　at　my　foreign　face；　she　suddenly　opened　a　door　in　the　wall　of　the
passage；　and　admitted　me　into　a　small　room。　Two　more　children　in　dirty
frocks　darted；　screaming；　out　of　the　asylum　thus　offered　to　me。　I
mentioned　my　name；　as　soon　as　I　could　make　myself　heard。　The　maid
appeared　to　be　terrified　at　the　length　of　it。　I　gave　her　my　card。　The
maid　took　it　between　a　dirty　finger　and　thumblooked　at　it　as　if　it　was
some　extraordinary　natural　curiosityturned　it　round；　exhibiting　correct
black　impressions　in　various　parts　of　it　of　her　finger　and　thumbgave　up
understanding　it　in　despair；　and　left　the　room。　She　was　stopped　outside
（as　I　gathered　from　the　sounds）　by　a　returning　invasion　of　children　in
the　hall。　There　was　whispering；　there　was　giggling；　there　was；　every　now
and　then；　a　loud　thump　on　the　door。　Prompted　by　the　children；　as　I
supposepushed　in　by　them；　certainlythe　maid　suddenly　reappeared　with
a　jerk；　〃Oh；　if　you　please；　come　this　way；〃　she　said。　The　invasion　of
children　retreated　again　up　the　stairsone　of　them　in　possession　of　my
card；　and　waving　it　in　triumph　on　the　first　landing。　We　penetrated　to　the
other　end　of　the　passage。　Again；　a　door　was　opened。　Unannounced；　I
entered　another；　and　a　larger　room。　What　did　I　see？

Fortune　had　favored　me　at　last。　My　lucky　star　had　led　me　to　the　mistress
of　the　house。

I　made　my　best　curtsey；　and　found　myself　confronting　a　large；
light…haired；　languid；　lymphatic　ladywho　had　evidently　been　amusing
herself　by　walking　up　and　down　the　room；　at　the　moment　when　I　appeared。
If　there　can　be　such　a　thing　as　a　_damp　woman_this　was　one。　There　was　a
humid　shine　on　her　colorless　white　face；　and　an　overflow　of　water　in　her
pale　blue　eyes。　Her　hair　was　not　dressed；　and　her　lace　cap　was　all　on　one
side。　The　upper　part　of　her　was　clothed　in　a　loose　jacket　of　blue　merino；
the　lower　part　was　robed　in　a　dimity　dressing　gown　of　doubtful　white。　In
one　hand；　she　held　a　dirty　dogs'…eared　book；　which　I　at　once　detected　to
be　a　Circulating　Library　novel。　Her　other　hand　supported　a　baby　enveloped
in　flannel；　sucking　at　her　breast。　Such　was　my　first　experience　of
Reverend　Finch's　Wifedestined　to　be　also　the　experience　of　all
aftertime。　Never　completely　dressed；　never　completely　dry；　always　with　a
baby　in　one　hand　and　a　novel　in　the　othersuch　was　Finch's　wife。

〃Oh！　Madame　Pratolungo？　Yes。　I　hope　somebody　has　told　Miss　Finch　you　are
here。　She　has　her　own　establishment；　and　manages　everything　herself。　Have
you　had　a　pleasant　journey？〃　（These　words　were　spoken　vacantly；　as　if　her
mind　was　occupied　with　something　else。　My　first　impression　of　her
suggested　that　she　was　a　weak；　good…natured　woman；　and　that　she　must　have
originally　occupied　a　station　in　the　humbler　ranks　of　life。）

〃Thank　you；　Mrs。　Finch；〃　I　said。　〃I　have　enjoyed　most　heartily　my　journey
among　your　beautiful　hills。〃

〃Oh！　you　like　the　hills？　Excuse　my　dress。　I　was　half　an　hour　late　this
morning。　When　you　lose　half　an　hour　in　this　house；　you　never　can　pick　it
up　again；　try　how　you　may。〃　（I　soon　discovered　that　Mrs。　Finch　was　always
losing　half　an　hour　out　of　her　day；　and　that　she　never；　by　any　chance；
succeeded　in　ending　it　again；　as　she　had　just　told　me。）

〃I　understand；　madam。　The　cares　of　a　numerous　family〃

〃Ah！　that's　just　where　it　is。〃　（This　was　a　favorite　phrase　with　Mrs。
Finch）。　〃There's　Finch；　he　gets　up　in　the　morning　and　goes　and　works　in
the　garden。　Then　there's　the　washing　of　the　children；　and　the　dreadful
waste　that　goes　on　in　the　kitchen。　And　Finch；　he　comes　in　without　any
notice；　and　wants　his　breakfast。　And　of　course　I　can't　leave　the　baby。
And　half　an　hour　does　slip　away　so　easily；　that　how　to　overtake　it　again；
I　do　assure　you　I　really　don't　know。〃　Here　the　baby　began　to　exhibit
symptoms　of　having　taken　more　maternal　nourishment　than　his　infant
stomach　could　comfortably　contain。　I　held　the　novel；　while　Mrs。　Finch
searched　for　her　handkerchieffirst　in　her　bedgown　pocket；　secondly；
here；　there；　and　everywhere　in　the　room。

At　this　interesting　moment　there　was　a　knock　at　the　door。　An　elderly
woman　appearedwho　offered　a　most　refreshing　contrast　to　the　members　of
the　household　with　whom　I　had　made　acquaintance　thus　far。　She　was　neatly
dressed；　and　she　saluted　me　with　the　polite　composure　of　a　civilized
being。

〃I　beg　your　pardon；　ma'am。　My　young　lady　has　only　this　moment　heard　of
your　arrival。　Will　you　be　so　kind　as　to　follow　me？〃

I　turned　to　Mrs。　Finch。　She　had　found　her　handkerchief；　and　had　put　her
overflowing　baby　to　rights　again。　I　respectfully　handed　back　the　novel。
〃Thank　you；〃　said　Mrs。　Finch。　〃I　find　novels　compose　my　mind。　Do　you　read
novels　too？　Remind　meand　I'll　lend　you　this　one　to…morrow。〃　I　expressed
my　acknowledgments；　and　withdrew。　At　the　door；　I　look　round；　saluting　the
lady　of　the　house。　Mrs。　Finch　was　promenading　the　room；　with　the　baby　in
one　hand　and　the　novel　in　the　other；　and　the　dimity　bedgown　trailing
behind　her。

We　ascended　the　stairs；　and　entered　a　bare　white…washed　passage；　with
drab…colored　doors　in　it；　leading；　as　I　presumed；　into　the　sleeping
chambers　of　the　house。

Every　door　opened　as　we　passed；　children　peeped　out　at　me；　screamed　at
me；　and　banged　the　door　to　again。　〃What　family　has　the　present　Mrs。
Finch？〃　I　asked。　The　decent　elderly　woman　was　obliged　to　stop；　and
consider。　〃Including　the　baby；　ma'am；　and　two　sets　of　twins；　and　one
seven　months'　child　of　deficient　intellectfourteen　in　all。〃　Hearing
this；　I　beganthough　I　consider　priests；　kings；　and　capitalists　to　be
the　enemies　of　the　human　raceto　feel　a　certain　exceptional　interest　in
Reverend　Finch。　Did　he　never　wish　that　he　had　been　a　priest　of　the　Roman
Catholic　Church；　mercifully　forbidden　to　marry　at　all？　While　the　question
passed　through　my　mind；　my　guide　took　out　a　key；　and　opened　a　heavy　oaken
door　at　the　further　end　of　the　passage。

〃We　are　obliged　to　keep　the　door　locked；　ma'am；〃　she　explained；　〃or　the
children　would　be　in　and　out　of　our　part　of　the　house　all　day　long。〃

After　my　experience　of　the　children；　I　own　I　looked　at　the　oaken　door
with　mingled　sentiments　of　gratitude　and　respect。

We　turned　a　corner；　and　found　ourselves　in　the　vaulted　corridor　of　the
ancient　portion　of　the　house。

The　casement　windows；　on　one　sidesunk　deep　in　recesseslooked　into　the
garden。　Each　recess　was　filled　with　groups　of　flowers　in　pots。　On　the
other　side；　the　old　wall　was　gaily　decorated　with　hangings　of　bright
chintz。　The　doors　were　colored　of　a　creamy　white；　with　gilt　moldings。　The
brightly　ornamented　matting　under　our　feet　I　at　once　recognized　as　of
South　American　origin。　The　ceiling　above　was　decorated　in　delicate　pale
blue；　with　borderings　of　flowers。　Nowhere　down　the　whole　extent　of　the
place　was　so　much　as　a　single　morsel　of　dark　color　to　be　seen　anywhere。

At　the　lower　end　of　the　corridor；　a　solitary　figure　in　a　pure　white　robe
was　bending　over　the　flowers　in　the　window。　This　was　the　blind　girl　whose
dark　hours　I　had　come　to　cheer。　In　the　scattered　villages　of　the　South
Downs；　the　simple　people　added　their　word　of　pity　to　her　name；　and　called
her　compassionately〃Poor　Miss　Finch。〃　As　for　me；　I　can　only　think　of
her　by　her　pretty　Christian　name。　She　is　〃Lucilla〃　when　my　memory　dwells
on　her。　Let　me　call　her　〃Lucilla〃　here。

When　my　eyes　first　rested　on　her；　she　was　picking　off　the　dead　leaves
from　her　flowers。　Her　delicate　ear　detected　the　sound　of　my　strange
footstep；　long　before　I　reached　the　place　at　which　she　was　standing。　She
lifted　her　headand　advanced　quickly　to　meet　me　with　a　faint　flush　on
her　face；　which　came　and　died　away　again　in　a　moment。　I　happen　to　have
visited　the　picture　gallery　at　Dresden　in　former　years。　As　she　approached
me；　nearer　and　nearer；　I　was　irresistibly　reminded　of　the　gem　of　that
superb　collectionthe　matchless　Virgin　of　Raphael；　called　〃The　Madonna
di　San　Sisto。〃　The　fair　broad　forehead；　the　peculiar　fullness　of　the
flesh　between　the　eyebrow　and　the　eyelid；　the　delicate　outline　of　the
lower　face；　the　tender；　sensitive　lips；　the　color　of　the　complexion　and
the　hairall　reflected；　with　a　startling　fidelity；　the　lovely　creature
of　the　Dresden　picture。　The　one　fatal　point　at　which　the　resemblance
ceased；　was　in　the　eyes。　The　divinely…beautiful　eyes　of　Raphael's　Virgin
were　lost　in　the　living　likeness　of　her　that　confronted　me　now。　There　was
no　deformity；　there　was　nothing　to　recoil　from；　in　my　blind　Lucilla。　The
poor；　dim；　sightless　eyes　had　a　faded；　changeless；　inexpressive　lookand
that　was　all。　Above　them；　below　them；　round　them；　to　the　very　edges　of
her　eyelids；　there　was　beauty；　movement；　life。　_In_　themdeath！　A　more
charming　creaturewith　that　one　sad　drawbackI　never　saw。　There　was　no
other　personal　defect　in　her。　She　had　the　fine　height；　the　well…balanced
figure；　and　the　length　of　the　lower　limbs；　which　make　all　a　woman's
movements　graceful　of　themselves。　Her　voice　was　deliciousclear；
cheerful；　sympathetic。　This；　and　her　smilewhich　added　a　charm　of　its
own　to　the　beauty　of　her　mouthwon　my　heart；　before　she　had　got　close
enough　to　me　to　put　her　hand　in　mine。　〃Ah；　my　dear！〃　I　said；　in　my
headlong　way；　〃I　am　so　glad　to　see　you！〃　The　instant　the　words　passed　my
lips；　I　could　have　cut　my　tongue　out　for　reminding　her　in　that　brutal
manner　that　she　was　blind。

To　my　relief；　she　showed　no　sign　of　feeling　it　as　I　did。　〃May　I　see　you；
in　_my_　way？〃　she　asked　gentlyand　held　up　her　pretty　white　hand。　〃May　I
touch　your　face？〃

I　sat　down　at　once　on　the　window…seat。　The　soft　rosy　tips　of　her　fingers
seemed　to　cover　my　whole　face　in　an　instant。　Three　separate　times　she
passed　her　hand　rapidly　over　me；　her　own　face　absorbed　all　the　while　in
breathless　attention　to　what　she　was　about。　〃Speak　again！〃　she　said
suddenly；　holding　her　hand　over　me　in　su