david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第85章
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precious； I thought。
When she went out of the room with Miss Murdstone （no other
ladies were of the party）； I fell into a reverie； only disturbed by the
cruel apprehension that Miss Murdstone would disparage me to
her。 The amiable creature with the polished head told me a long
story； which I think was about gardening。 I think I heard him say；
‘my gardener’； several times。 I seemed to pay the deepest attention
to him； but I was wandering in a garden of Eden all the while； with
Dora。
My apprehensions of being disparaged to the object of my
engrossing affection were revived when we went into the drawing…
room； by the grim and distant aspect of Miss Murdstone。 But I was
relieved of them in an unexpected manner。
‘David Copperfield；’ said Miss Murdstone； beckoning me aside
into a window。 ‘A word。’
I confronted Miss Murdstone alone。
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David Copperfield
‘David Copperfield；’ said Miss Murdstone； ‘I need not enlarge
upon family circumstances。 They are not a tempting subject。’
‘Far from it； ma’am；’ I returned。
‘Far from it；’ assented Miss Murdstone。 ‘I do not wish to revive
the memory of past differences； or of past outrages。 I have
received outrages from a person—a female I am sorry to say； for
the credit of my sex—who is not to be mentioned without scorn
and disgust； and therefore I would rather not mention her。’
I felt very fiery on my aunt’s account； but I said it would
certainly be better； if Miss Murdstone pleased； not to mention her。
I could not hear her disrespectfully mentioned； I added； without
expressing my opinion in a decided tone。
Miss Murdstone shut her eyes； and disdainfully inclined her
head； then； slowly opening her eyes； resumed：
‘David Copperfield； I shall not attempt to disguise the fact； that
I formed an unfavourable opinion of you in your childhood。 It may
have been a mistaken one； or you may have ceased to justify it。
That is not in question between us now。 I belong to a family
remarkable； I believe； for some firmness； and I am not the
creature of circumstance or change。 I may have my opinion of you。
You may have your opinion of me。’
I inclined my head； in my turn。
‘But it is not necessary；’ said Miss Murdstone； ‘that these
opinions should come into collision here。 Under existing
circumstances； it is as well on all accounts that they should not。 As
the chances of life have brought us together again； and may bring
us together on other occasions； I would say； let us meet here as
distant acquaintances。 Family circumstances are a sufficient
reason for our only meeting on that footing； and it is quite
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David Copperfield
unnecessary that either of us should make the other the subject of
remark。 Do you approve of this？’
‘Miss Murdstone；’ I returned； ‘I think you and Mr。 Murdstone
used me very cruelly； and treated my mother with great
unkindness。 I shall always think so； as long as I live。 But I quite
agree in what you propose。’
Miss Murdstone shut her eyes again； and bent her head。 Then；
just touching the back of my hand with the tips of her cold； stiff
fingers； she walked away； arranging the little fetters on her wrists
and round her neck； which seemed to be the same set； in exactly
the same state； as when I had seen her last。 These reminded me； in
reference to Miss Murdstone’s nature； of the fetters over a jail
door； suggesting on the outside； to all beholders； what was to be
expected within。
All I know of the rest of the evening is； that I heard the empress
of my heart sing enchanted ballads in the French language；
generally to the effect that； whatever was the matter； we ought
always to dance； Ta ra la； Ta ra la！ accompanying herself on a
glorified instrument； resembling a guitar。 That I was lost in
blissful delirium。 That I refused refreshment。 That my soul
recoiled from punch particularly。 That when Miss Murdstone took
her into custody and led her away； she smiled and gave me her
delicious hand。 That I caught a view of myself in a mirror； looking
perfectly imbecile and idiotic。 That I retired to bed in a most
maudlin state of mind； and got up in a crisis of feeble infatuation。
It was a fine morning； and early； and I thought I would go and
take a stroll down one of those wire…arched walks； and indulge my
passion by dwelling on her image。 On my way through the hall； I
encountered her little dog； who was called Jip—short for Gipsy。 I
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David Copperfield
approached him tenderly； for I loved even him； but he showed his
whole set of teeth； got under a chair expressly to snarl； and
wouldn’t hear of the least familiarity。
The garden was cool and solitary。 I walked about； wondering
what my feelings of happiness would be； if I could ever become
engaged to this dear wonder。 As to marriage； and fortune； and all
that； I believe I was almost as innocently undesigning then； as
when I loved little Em’ly。 To be allowed to call her ‘Dora’； to write
to her； to dote upon and worship her； to have reason to think that
when she was with other people she was yet mindful of me；
seemed to me the summit of human ambition—I am sure it was
the summit of mine。 There is no doubt whatever that I was a
lackadaisical young spooney； but there was a purity of heart in all
this； that prevents my having quite a contemptuous recollection of
it； let me laugh as I may。
I had not been walking long； when I turned a corner； and met
her。 I tingle again from head to foot as my recollection turns that
corner； and my pen shakes in my hand。
‘You—are—out early； Miss Spenlow；’ said I。
‘It’s so stupid at home；’ she replied； ‘and Miss Murdstone is so
absurd！ She talks such nonsense about its being necessary for the
day to be aired； before I come out。 Aired！’ （She laughed； here； in
the most melodious manner。） ‘On a Sunday morning； when I don’t
practise； I must do something。 So I told papa last night I must
come out。 Besides； it’s the brightest time of the whole day。 Don’t
you think so？’
I hazarded a bold flight； and said （not without stammering） that
it was very bright to me then； though it had been very dark to me a
minute before。
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David Copperfield
‘Do you mean a compliment？’ said Dora； ‘or that the weather
has really changed？’
I stammered worse than before； in replying that I meant no
compliment； but the plain truth； though I was not aware of any
change having taken place in the weather。 It was in the state of my
own feelings； I added bashfully： to clench the explanation。
I never saw such curls—how could I； for there never were such
curls！—as those she shook out to hide her blushes。 As to the straw
hat and blue ribbons which was on the top of the curls； if I could
only have hung it up in my room in Buckingham Street； what a
priceless possession it would have been！
‘You have just come home from Paris；’ said I。
‘Yes；’ said she。 ‘Have you ever been there？’
‘No。’
‘Oh！ I hope you’ll go soon！ You would like it so much！’
Traces of deep…seated anguish appeared in my countenance。
That she should hope I would go； that she should think it possible
I could go； was insupportable。 I depreciated Paris； I depreciated
France。 I said I wouldn’t leave England； under existing
circumstances； for any earthly consideration。 Nothing should
induce me。 In short； she was shaking the curls again； when the
little dog came running along the walk to our relief。
He was mortally jealous of me； and persisted in barking at me。
She took him up in her arms—oh my goodness！—and caressed
him； but he persisted upon barking still。 He wouldn’t let me touch
him； when I tried； and then she beat him。 It increased my
sufferings greatly to see the pats she gave him for punishment on
the bridge of his blunt nose； while he winked his eyes； and licked
her hand； and still growled within himself like a little double…bass。
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David Copperfield
At length he was quiet—well he might be with her dimpled chin
upon his head！—and we walked away to look at a greenhouse。
‘You are not very intimate with Miss Murdstone； are you？’ said
Dora。— ‘My pet。’
（The two last words were to the dog。 Oh； if they had only been
to me！）
‘No；’ I replied。 ‘Not at all so。’
‘She is a tiresome creature；’ said Dora； pouting。 ‘I can’t think
what papa can have been about； when he chose such a vexatious
thing to be my companion。 Who wants a protector？ I am sure I
don’t want a protector。 Jip can protect me a great deal better than
Miss Murdstone；—can’t you； Jip； dear？’
He only winked lazily； when she kissed his ball of a head。
‘Papa calls her my confidential friend； but I am sure she is no
such thing—is she； Jip？ We are not going to confide in any such
cross people； Jip and I。 We mean to bestow our confidence where
we like； and to find out our own friends； instead of having them
found out for us—don’t we； Jip？’
jip made a comfortable noise； in answer； a little like a tea…kettle
when it sings。 As for me； every word was a new heap of fetters；
riveted above the last。
‘It is very hard； because we have not a kind Mama； that we are
to have； instead； a sulky； gloomy old thing like Miss Murdstone；
always following us about—isn’t it； Jip？ Never mind； Jip。 We won’t
be confidential； and we’ll make ourselves as happy as we can in
spite of her； and we’ll tease her； and not please her—won’t we；
Jip？’
If it had lasted any longer； I think I must have gone down on my
knees on the gravel； with the probability before me of grazing
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them； and of being presently ejected from the premises besides。
But； by good fortune the greenhouse was not far off； and these
words brought us to it。
It contained quite a show of beautiful geraniums。 We loitered
along in front of them； and Dora often stopped to admire this one
or that one； and I stopped to admire the same one； and Dora；
laughing； held the dog up childishly； to smell the flowers； and if we
were not all three in Fairyland； certainly I was。 The scent of a
geranium leaf； at this day； strikes me with a half comical half
serious wonder as to what change has come over me in a moment；
and then I see a straw hat and blue ribbons； and a quantity of
curls； and a little black dog being held up； in two slender arms；
against a bank of blossoms and bright leaves。
Miss Murdstone had been looking for us。 She found us here；
and presented her uncongenial cheek； the little wrinkles in it filled
with hair powder； to Dora to be kissed。 Then she took Dora’s arm
in hers； and marched us into breakfast as if it were a soldier’s
funeral。
How many cups of tea I drank； because Dora made it； I don’t
know。 But； I perfectly remember that I sat swilling tea until my
whole nervous system； if I had had any in those days； must have
gone by the board。 By and
