THE rectory resembled, in one respect, this narrative2 that I am now writing. It was in Two Parts. Part the First, in front, composed of the everlasting3 flint and mortar4 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 nuns5. Here were snug6 little Gothic windows, and dark ivy-covered walls of venerable stone: repaired in places, at some past period, with quaint7 red bricks. I had hoped that I should enter the house by this side of it. But no. The boy — after appearing to be at a loss what to do with me — led the way to a door on the modern side of the building, and rang the bell.
A slovenly8 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, darting9 out on us in the hall, and then darting away again into invisible back regions, screeching10 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 darted11, screaming, out of the asylum12 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 thumb — looked at it as if it was some extraordinary natural curiosity — turned it round, exhibiting correct black impressions in various parts of it of her finger and thumb — gave 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 giggling14; there was, every now and then, a loud thump15 on the door. Prompted by the children, as I suppose — pushed in by them, certainly — the maid suddenly reappeared with a jerk, “Oh, if you please, come this way,” she said. The invasion of children retreated again up the stairs — one of them in possession of my card, and waving it in triumph on the first landing. We penetrated16 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 lady — who 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 overflow17 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 dressing18 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 enveloped19 in flannel20, sucking at her breast. Such was my first experience of Reverend Finch’s Wife — destined21 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 other — such 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 heartily22 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 maternal23 nourishment24 than his infant stomach could comfortably contain. I held the novel, while Mrs. Finch searched for her handkerchief — first in her bedgown pocket; secondly25, here, there, and everywhere in the room.
At this interesting moment there was a knock at the door. An elderly woman appeared — who offered a most refreshing26 contrast to the members of the household with whom I had made acquaintance thus far. She was neatly27 dressed, and she saluted28 me with the polite composure of a civilized29 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 overflowing30 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 me — and I’ll lend you this one to-morrow.” I expressed my acknowledgments, and withdrew. At the door, I look round, saluting31 the lady of the house. Mrs. Finch was promenading32 the room, with the baby in one hand and the novel in the other, and the dimity bedgown trailing behind her.
We ascended33 the stairs, and entered a bare white-washed passage, with drab-colored doors in it, leading, as I presumed, into the sleeping chambers34 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 deficient35 intellect — fourteen in all.” Hearing this, I began — though I consider priests, kings, and capitalists to be the enemies of the human race — to 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 mingled36 sentiments of gratitude37 and respect.
We turned a corner, and found ourselves in the vaulted38 corridor of the ancient portion of the house.
The casement39 windows, on one side — sunk deep in recesses40 — looked into the garden. Each recess41 was filled with groups of flowers in pots. On the other side, the old wall was gaily42 decorated with hangings of bright chintz. The doors were colored of a creamy white, with gilt43 moldings. The brightly ornamented44 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 morsel45 of dark color to be seen anywhere.
At the lower end of the corridor, a solitary46 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 scattered47 villages of the South Downs, the simple people added their word of pity to her name, and called her compassionately48 —“Poor Miss Finch.” As for me, I can only think of her by her pretty Christian49 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 standing13. She lifted her head — and 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 irresistibly50 reminded of the gem51 of that superb collection — the matchless Virgin52 of Raphael, called “The Madonna di San Sisto.” The fair broad forehead; the peculiar53 fullness of the flesh between the eyebrow54 and the eyelid55; the delicate outline of the lower face; the tender, sensitive lips; the color of the complexion56 and the hair — all reflected, with a startling fidelity57, 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 likeness58 of her that confronted me now. There was no deformity; there was nothing to recoil59 from, in my blind Lucilla. The poor, dim, sightless eyes had a faded, changeless, inexpressive look — and that was all. Above them, below them, round them, to the very edges of her eyelids60, there was beauty, movement, life. In them — death! A more charming creature — with that one sad drawback — I 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 graceful61 of themselves. Her voice was delicious — clear, cheerful, sympathetic. This, and her smile — which added a charm of its own to the beauty of her mouth — won 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 brutal62 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 gently — and held up her pretty white hand. “May I touch your face?”
I sat down at once on the window-seat. The soft rosy63 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 suspense64. I said a few words. She stopped me by a kiss. “No more!” she exclaimed joyously65. “Your voice says to my ears, what your face says to my fingers. I know I shall like you. Come in, and see the rooms we are going to live in together.”
As I rose, she put her arm round my waist — then instantly drew it away again, and shook her fingers impatiently, as if something had hurt them.
“A pin?” I asked.
“No! no! What colored dress have you got on?”
“Purple.”
“Ah! I knew it! Pray don’t wear dark colors. I have my own blind horror of anything that is dark. Dear Madame Pratolungo, wear pretty bright colors, to please me!” She put her arm caressingly66 round me again — round my neck, however, this time, where her hand could rest on my linen67 collar. “You will change your dress before dinner — won’t you?” she whispered. “Let me unpack68 for you, and choose which dress I like.”
The brilliant decorations of the corridor were explained to me now!
We entered the rooms; her bed-room, my bed-room, and our sitting-room69 between the two. I was prepared to find them, what they proved to be — as bright as looking-glasses, and gilding70, and gaily-colored ornaments71, and cheerful knick-knacks of all sorts could make them. They were more like rooms in my lively native country than rooms in sober colorless England. The one thing which I own did still astonish me, was that all this sparkling beauty of adornment72 in Lucilla’s habitation should have been provided for the express gratification of a young lady who could not see. Experience was yet to show me that the blind can live in their imaginations, and have their favorite fancies and illusions like the rest of us.
To satisfy Lucilla by changing my dark purple dress, it was necessary that I should first have my boxes. So far as I knew, Finch’s boy had taken my luggage, along with the pony73, to the stables. Before Lucilla could ring the bell to make inquiries74, my elderly guide (who had silently left us while we were talking together in the corridor) re-appeared, followed by the boy and a groom75, carrying my things. These servants also brought with them certain parcels for their young mistress, purchased in the town, together with a bottle, wrapped in fair white paper, which looked like a bottle of medicine — and which had a part of its own to play in our proceedings76, later in the day.
“This is my old nurse,” said Lucilla, presenting her attendant to me. “Zillah can do a little of everything — cooking included. She has had lessons at a London Club. You must like Zillah, Madame Pratolungo, for my sake. Are your boxes open?”
She went down on her knees before the boxes, as she asked the question. No girl with the full use of her eyes could have enjoyed more thoroughly77 than she did the trivial amusement of unpacking78 my clothes. This time, however, her wonderful delicacy79 of touch proved to be at fault. Of two dresses of mine which happened to be exactly the same in texture80, though widely different in color, she picked out the dark dress as being the light one. I saw that I disappointed her sadly when I told her of her mistake. The next guess she made, however, restored the tips of her fingers to their place in her estimation: she discovered the stripes in a smart pair of stockings of mine, and brightened up directly. “Don’t be long dressing,” she said, on leaving me. “We shall have dinner in half an hour. French dishes, in honor of your arrival. I like a nice dinner — I am what you call in your country, gourmande. See the sad consequence!” She put one finger to her pretty chin. “I am getting fat! I am threatened with a double chin — at two and twenty. Shocking! shocking!”
So she left me. And such was the first impression produced on my mind by “Poor Miss Finch.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
finch
|
|
| n.雀科鸣禽(如燕雀，金丝雀等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
narrative
|
|
| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
everlasting
|
|
| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
mortar
|
|
| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
nuns
|
|
| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
snug
|
|
| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
quaint
|
|
| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
slovenly
|
|
| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
darting
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
screeching
|
|
| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
asylum
|
|
| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
giggling
|
|
| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
thump
|
|
| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
overflow
|
|
| v.(使)外溢，(使)溢出；溢出，流出，漫出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
dressing
|
|
| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
flannel
|
|
| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
maternal
|
|
| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
nourishment
|
|
| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
secondly
|
|
| adv.第二，其次 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
refreshing
|
|
| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
saluted
|
|
| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
civilized
|
|
| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
overflowing
|
|
| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
saluting
|
|
| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
promenading
|
|
| v.兜风( promenade的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
deficient
|
|
| adj.不足的，不充份的，有缺陷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
vaulted
|
|
| adj.拱状的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
casement
|
|
| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
recesses
|
|
| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
recess
|
|
| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
gilt
|
|
| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
ornamented
|
|
| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
morsel
|
|
| n.一口，一点点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
compassionately
|
|
| adv.表示怜悯地，有同情心地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
irresistibly
|
|
| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
gem
|
|
| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
virgin
|
|
| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
eyebrow
|
|
| n.眉毛，眉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
eyelid
|
|
| n.眼睑，眼皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
complexion
|
|
| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
fidelity
|
|
| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
likeness
|
|
| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
recoil
|
|
| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
suspense
|
|
| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
joyously
|
|
| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
caressingly
|
|
| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
unpack
|
|
| vt.打开包裹（或行李），卸货 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
sitting-room
|
|
| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
gilding
|
|
| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
ornaments
|
|
| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
adornment
|
|
| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
pony
|
|
| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
inquiries
|
|
| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
groom
|
|
| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
unpacking
|
|
| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
delicacy
|
|
| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
texture
|
|
| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |