the professor(教授)-第57章
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was to roll between us。
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Chapter XXV
n two months more Frances had fulfilled the time of
mourning for her aunt。 One January morning—the first of the
I
new year holidays—I went in a fiacre； accompanied only by
M。 Vandenhuten； to the Rue Notre Dame aux Neiges； and having
alighted alone and walked upstairs； I found Frances apparently
waiting for me； dressed in a style scarcely appropriate to that cold；
bright； frosty day。 Never till now had I seen her attired in any
other than black or sad…coloured stuff； and there she stood by the
window； clad all in white； and white of a most diaphanous texture；
her array was very simple； to be sure； but it looked imposing and
festal because it was so clear； full； and floating； a veil shadowed
her head； and hung below her knee； a little wreath of pink flowers
fastened it to her thickly tressed Grecian plait； and thence it fell
softly on each side of her face。 Singular to state； she was； or had
been crying； when I asked her if she were ready； she said “Yes；
monsieur；” with something very like a checked sob； and when I
took a shawl； which lay on the table； and folded it round her； not
only did tear after tear course unbidden down her cheek； but she
shook to my ministration like a reed。 I said I was sorry to see her
in such low spirits； and requested to be allowed an insight into the
origin thereof。 She only said； “It was impossible to help it；” and
then voluntarily； though hurriedly； putting her hand into mine；
accompanied me out of the room； and ran downstairs with a quick；
uncertain step； like one who was eager to get some formidable
piece of business over。 I put her into the fiacre。 M。 Vandenhuten
received her； and seated her beside himself； we drove all together
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to the Protestant chapel； went through a certain service in the
Common Prayer Book； and she and I came out married。 M。
Vandenhuten had given the bride away。
We took no bridal trip； our modesty； screened by the peaceful
obscurity of our station； and the pleasant isolation of our
circumstances； did not exact that additional precaution。 We
repaired at once to a small house I had taken in the faubourg
nearest to that part of the city where the scene of our avocations
lay。
Three or four hours after the wedding ceremony； Frances；
divested of her bridal snow； and attired in a pretty lilac gown of
warmer materials； a piquant black silk apron； and a lace collar
with some finishing decoration of lilac ribbon； was kneeling on the
carpet of a neatly furnished though not spacious parlour；
arranging on the shelves of a chiffonière some books； which I
handed to her from the table。 It was snowing fast out of doors； the
afternoon had turned out wild and cold； the leaden sky seemed full
of drifts； and the street was already ankle…deep in the white
downfall。 Our fire burned bright； our new habitation looked
brilliantly clean and fresh； the furniture was all arranged； and
there were but some articles of glass； china； books； &c。； to put in
order。 Frances found in this business occupation till tea…time； and
then； after I had distinctly instructed her how to make a cup of tea
in rational English style； and after she had got over the dismay
occasioned by seeing such an extravagant amount of material put
into the pot； she administered to me a proper British repast； at
which there wanted neither candies nor urn； fire…light nor
comfort。
Our week’s holiday glided by； and we re…addressed ourselves to
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labour。 Both my wife and I began in good earnest with the notion
that we were working people； destined to earn our bread by
exertion； and that of the most assiduous kind。 Our days were
thoroughly occupied； me used to part every morning at eight
o’clock； and not meet again till five p。m。； but into what sweet rest
did the turmoil of each busy day decline！ Looking down the vista；
of memory； I see the evenings passed in that little parlour like a
long string of rubies circling the dusk brow of the past。 Unvaried
were they as each cut gem； and like each gem brilliant and
burning。
A year and a half passed。 One morning （it was a fête ； and we
had the day to ourselves） Frances said to me； with a suddenness
peculiar to her when she had been thinking long on a subject； and
at last； having come to a conclusion； wished to test its soundness
by the touchstone of my judgment：—
“I don’t work enough。”
“What now ？” demanded I； looking up from my coffee； which I
had been deliberately stirring while enjoying； in anticipation； a
walk I proposed to take with Frances； that fine summer day （it was
June）； to a certain farmhouse in the country； where we were to
dine。 “What now？” and I saw at once； in the serious ardour of her
face； a project of vital importance。
“I am not satisfied” returned she： “you are now earning eight
thousand francs a year” （it was true； my efforts； punctuality； the
fame of my pupils’ progress； the publicity of my station； had so far
helped me on）； “while I am still at my miserable twelve hundred
francs。 I can do better； and I will。”
“You work as long and as diligently as I do； Frances。”
“Yes； monsieur； but I am not working in the right way； and I am
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convinced of it。”
“You wish to change—you have a plan for progress in your
mind； go and put on your bonnet； and； while we take our walk； you
shall tell me of it。”
“Yes； monsieur。”
She went—as docile as a well…trained child； she was a curious
mixture of tractability and firmness： I sat thinking about her； and
wondering what her plan could be； when she re…entered。
“Monsieur； I have given Minnie” （our bonne） “leave to go out
too； as it is so very fine； so will you be kind enough to lock the
door； and take the key with you？”
“Kiss me； Mrs。 Crimsworth；” was my not very apposite reply；
but she looked so engaging in her light summer dress and little
cottage bonnet； and her manner in speaking to me was then； as
always； so unaffectedly and suavely respectful； that my heart
expanded at the sight of her； and a kiss seemed necessary to
content its importunity。
“There； monsieur。”
“Why do you always call me ‘Monsieur？’ Say； ‘William。’”
“I cannot pronounce your W； besides； ‘Monsieur’ belongs to
you； I like it best。”
Minnie having departed in clean cap and smart shawl； we； too；
set out； leaving the house solitary and silent—silent； at least； but
for the ticking of the clock。 We were soon clear of Brussels； the
fields received us； and then the lanes； remote from carriage…
resounding chaussées。 Ere long we came upon a nook； so rural；
green； and secluded； it might have been a spot in some pastoral
English province； a bank of short and mossy grass； under a
hawthorn； offered a seat too tempting to be declined； we took it；
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and when we had admired and examined some English…looking
wild…flowers growing at our feet； I recalled Frances’ attention and
my own to the topic touched on at breakfast。
“What was her plan？” A natural one—the next step to be
mounted by us； or； at least； by her； if she wanted to rise in her
profession。 She proposed to begin a school。 We already had the
means for commencing on a careful scale； having lived greatly
within our income。 We possessed； too； by this time； an extensive
and eligible connection； in the sense advantageous to our
business； for； though our circle of visiting acquaintance continued
as limited as ever； we were now widely known in schools and
families as teachers。 When Frances had developed her plan； she
intimated； in some closing sentences； her hopes for the future。 If
we only had good health and tolerable success； me might； she was
sure； in time realize an independency； and that； perhaps； before
we were too old to enjoy it； then both she and I would rest； and
what was to hinder us from going to live in England？ England was
still her Promised Land。
I put no obstacle in her way； raised no objection； I knew she
was not one who could live quiescent and inactive； or even
comparatively inactive。 Duties she must have to fulfil； and
important duties； work to do—and exciting； absorbing； profitable
work； strong faculties stirred in her frame； an
