the professor(教授)-第60章
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being promptly acted on； the result proved gainful—I need not say
how gainful； I communicated details to Messrs。 Vandenhuten and
Hunsden； nobody else can be interested in hearing them。
Accounts being wound up； and our professional connection
disposed of； we both agreed that； as mammon was not our master；
nor his service that in which we desired to spend our lives； as our
desires were temperate； and our habits unostentatious； we had
now abundance to live on—abundance to leave our boy； and
should besides always have a balance on hand； which； properly
managed by right sympathy and unselfish activity； might help
philanthropy in her enterprises； and put solace into the hand of
charity。
To England we now resolved to take wing； we arrived there
safely； Frances realized the dream of her lifetime。 me spent a
whole summer and autumn in travelling from end to end of the
British islands； and afterwards passed a winter in London。 Then
we thought it high time to fix our residence。 My heart yearned
towards my native county of —shire； and it is in —shire I now live；
it is in the library of my own home I am now writing。 That home
lies amid a sequestered and rather hilly region； thirty miles
removed from X—； a region whose verdure the smoke of mills has
not yet sullied； whose waters still run pure； whose swells of
moorland preserve in some ferny glens that lie between them the
very primal wildness of nature； her moss； her bracken； her blue…
bells； her scents of reed and heather； her free and fresh breezes。
My house is a picturesque and not too spacious dwelling； with low
and long windows； a trellised and leaf…veiled porch over the front
door； just now； on this summer evening； looking like an arch of
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roses and ivy。 The garden is chiefly laid out in lawn； formed of the
sod of the hills； with herbage short and soft as moss； full of its own
peculiar flowers； tiny and star…like； imbedded in the minute
embroidery of their fine foliage。 At the bottom of the sloping
garden there is a wicket； which opens upon a lane as green as the
lawn； very long； shady； and little frequented； on the turf of this
lane generally appear the first daisies of spring—whence its
name—Daisy Lane； serving also as a distinction to the house。
It terminates （the lane I mean） in a valley full of wood； which
wood—chiefly oak and beech—spreads shadowy about the
vicinage of a very old mansion； one of the Elizabethan structures；
much larger； as well as more antique than Daisy Lane； the
property and residence of an individual familiar both to me and to
the reader。 Yes； in Hunsden Wood—for so are those glades and
that grey building； with many gables and more chimneys；
named—abides Yorke Hunsden； still unmarried； never； I suppose；
having yet found his ideal； though I know at least a score of young
ladies within a circuit of forty miles； who would be willing to assist
him in the search。
The estate fell to him by the death of his father； five years since；
he has given up trade； after having made by it sufficient to pay off
some incumbrances by which the family heritage was burdened。 I
say he abides here； but I do not think he is resident above five
months out of the twelve； he wanders from land to land； and
spends some part of each winter in town： he frequently brings
visitors with him when he comes to —…shire； and these visitors are
often foreigners； sometimes he has a German metaphysician；
sometimes a French savant； he had once a dissatisfied and savage…
looking Italian； who neither sang nor played； and of whom
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Frances affirmed that he had “tout l’air d’un conspirateur。”
What English guests Hunsden invites； are all either men of
Birmingham or Manchester—hard men； seemingly knit up in one
thought； whose talk is of free trade。 The foreign visitors； too； are
politicians； they take a wider theme—European progress—the
spread of liberal sentiments over the Continent； on their mental
tablets； the names of Russia； Austria； and the Pope； are inscribed
in red ink。 I have heard some of them talk vigorous sense—yea； I
have been present at polyglot discussions in the old； oak…lined
dining…room at Hunsden Wood； where a singular insight was given
of the sentiments entertained by resolute minds respecting old
northern despotisms； and old southern superstitions： also； I have
heard much twaddle； enounced chiefly in French and Deutsch；
but let that pass。 Hunsden himself tolerated the drivelling
theorists； with the practical men he seemed leagued hand and
heart。
When Hunsden is staying alone at the Wood （which seldom
happens） he generally finds his way two or three times a week to
Daisy Lane。 He has a philanthropic motive for coming to smoke
his cigar in our porch on summer evenings； he says he does it to
kill the earwigs amongst the roses； with which insects； but for his
benevolent fumigations； he intimates we should certainly be
overrun。 On wet days； too； we are almost sure to see him；
according to him； it gets on time to work me into lunacy by
treading on my mental corns； or to force from Mrs。 Crimsworth
revelations of the dragon within her； by insulting the memory of
Hofer and Tell。
We also go frequently to Hunsden Wood； and both I and
Frances relish a visit there highly。 If there are other guests； their
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characters are an interesting study； their conversation is exciting
and strange； the absence of all local narrowness both in the host
and his chosen society gives a metropolitan； almost a cosmopolitan
freedom and largeness to the talk。 Hunsden himself is a polite man
in his own house： he has； when he chooses to employ it； an
inexhaustible power of entertaining guests； his very mansion too is
interesting； the rooms look storied； the passages legendary； the
low…ceiled chambers； with their long rows of diamond…paned
lattices； have an old…world； haunted air： in his travels he hall
collected stores of articles of vertu； which are well and tastefully
disposed in his panelled or tapestried rooms： I have seen there one
or two pictures； and one or two pieces of statuary which many an
aristocratic connoisseur might have envied。
When I and Frances have dined and spent an evening with
Hunsden； he often walks home with us。 His wood is large； and
some of the timber is old and of huge growth。 There are winding
ways in it which； pursued through glade and brake； make the walk
back to Daisy Lane a somewhat long one。 Many a time； when we
have had the benefit of a full moon； and when the night has been
mild and balmy； when； moreover； a certain nightingale has been
singing； and a certain stream； hid in alders； has lent the song a soft
accompaniment； the remote church…bell of the one hamlet in a
district of ten miles； has tolled midnight ere the lord of the wood
left us at our porch。 Free…flowing was his talk at such hours； and
far more quiet and gentle than in the day…time and before
numbers。 He would then forget politics and discussion； and would
dwell on the past times of his house； on his family history； on
himself and his own feelings—subjects each and all invested with
a peculiar zest； for they were each and all unique。 One glorious
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night in June； after I had been taunting him about his ideal bride
and asking him when she would come and graft her foreign beauty
on the old Hunsden oak； he answered suddenly—
“You call her ideal； but see； here is her shadow； and there
cannot be a shadow without a substance。”
He had led us from the depth of the “winding way” into a glade
from whence the beeches withdrew； leaving it open to the sky； an
unclouded moon poured her light into this glade； and Hunsden
held out under her beam an ivory miniature。
Frances； with eagerness； examined it first； then she gave it to
me—still； however； pushing her little face close to mine； and
seeking in my eyes what I thought of the portrait。 I thought it
represented a very handsome and very individual…looking female
face； with； as he had once said； “straight and harmonious
features。” It was dark； the hair； raven…black； swept not only from
the brow； but from the temples—seemed thrust away carelessly； as
if such beauty dispensed with； nay； despised arrangement。 The
Italian eye looked straight into you； and an independent；
determined eye it was； the mouth was as firm as fine； the chin
ditto。 On the back of the miniature was gilded “Lucia。”
“That is a real head；” was my conclusion。
Hunsden smiled。
“I think so；” he replied。 “All was real in Lucia。”
“And she was so
