"You've got the same little ball on your forehead, papa, that you had when you used to come down to Kildare."
Bidding me good-night, he promised to come for me early next day, and told me I should sleep in the Craven Arms, and spend two whole days driving about the country with him. How [Pg 171]comforting the well-filled table, the cold ham, the bacon and eggs at breakfast, the bread and marmalade, all served on a spotless tablecloth4, and outside the smell of the roses and honeysuckle, and the exciting rumble5 of flies up and down the narrow street! I was so happy that I quite forgot my woes6, and did not remember to complain of my enemies. There was so much to eat, to see, to think of, to feel, to say! I not only wanted to know all about everybody at home, but I wanted to see and understand all about me.
In the Abbey we saw Vandyke's melancholy7 Charles, and it was a rare satisfaction for me to be able to tell how he had been beheaded. At the great Castle we saw Queen Elizabeth's bed with the jewel-wrought quilt, and my romantic elder sister, fresh from reading "The Last of the Barons," passionately8 kissed the King-maker's armour10. She told us the thrilling tale as we sat in the famous cedar11 avenue, when the earl's daughter, all summery in white muslin and Leghorn hat, passed us with her governess, and although she was a fresh slip of a girl just like my sister, because of her name we felt that a living breath of history had brushed us. She was not for us an insignificant12 girl of our own[Pg 172] century, but something belonging to the King-maker, a breathing memory of the Wars of the Roses, the sort of creature the dreadful Richard might have wooed in his hideous13 youth.
And then at night, in the old inn, we discovered two big illustrated14 volumes about Josephine and Napoleon. I had not got so far in history as Napoleon, and here was an unexplored world, whose fairy was my voluble and imaginative sister. With a touch of her wand she unrolled before my enthralled15 vision scenes of the French Revolution and the passionate9 loves of Bonaparte and the young Viscountess de Beauharnais. I wish every child I know two such nights as I passed, listening to this evocative creature revive so vividly16 one of the intensest and most dramatic hours of history. Thanks to her eloquence17, to her genius, Napoleon, vile18 monster, became one of my gods. I think the thrilling tale she read me was by Miss Muloch. Impossible now to recall the incidents that sufficed to turn succeeding weeks into an exquisite19 dream. Who, for instance, was the beauteous creature in amber20 and purple velvet21, with glittering diamonds, that usurped22 such a fantastic place in the vague aspirations23 of those days? And the lovely Polish countess Napoleon loved?[Pg 173] And those letters from Egypt to Josephine, and Josephine's shawls and flowers, and the ghost-stories of Malmaison, and the last adieu the night before the divorce. Hard would it be to say whom I most loved and deeply pitied, the unadmirable Josephine or the admirable queen of Prussia. My sister read aloud, as we sat up in bed together, I holding the candle, and gazing in awe24 and delight, wet-eyed, at the coarse engravings.
Other sisters came in quick succession, but they remained strangers to me. They fawned25 on Sister Esmeralda, whom I hated: they were older and wiser than I; they aspired26 to the ribbon of the Children of Mary, and walked submissively with the authorities of Church and State. They played "Il Baccio" on the piano, and a mysterious duet called the "Duet in D." The only sister I remember of those days as an individual was Pauline, who had opened to me a world of treasures. At school, she naturally forsook27 me for girls of her own age; but on play-days, when we were free to do as we liked all day, she sometimes condescended28 to recall my existence, and told me with an extraordinary vivacity29 of recital30 the stories of "East Lynne,"[Pg 174] "The Black Dwarf," "Rob Roy," and "Kenilworth."
But for the rest she was a great and glorious creature who dwelt aloft, and possessed31 the golden key of the chambers32 of fiction. My immediate33 friend was Polly Evans, whose mamma once took me to tea in an old farmhouse34 along the Kenilworth road.
There were strawberries and cream on the table, and delicious little balls of butter in blue-and-white dishes, and radishes, which I had never before eaten; and the air was dense35 with the smell of the flowers on table, sideboard, mantelpiece, and brackets. Polly and I, with her brother Godfrey, played all the long afternoon in the hay-field, drunk with the odour, the sunny stillness, the hum of the bees—drunk, above all, with this transient bliss36 of freedom and high living.
Another time Mrs. Evans took me with Polly and Godfrey to Kenilworth Castle, where we dined among the ruins on ham, cold chicken, fruit, and lemonade. Yet she herself is no remembered personality: I cannot recall a single feature of hers, and even Polly herself is less clear in memory than Mary Jane of Kildare, than the abominable37 Frank.
Years after, Polly and her brother visited Ireland as tourists, and having all that time treasured my parents' address, called to see me. But I was abroad, a hopeless wanderer. Godfrey, I learnt, was quite a fine young fellow, who shared his sister's attachment38 to me. Polly was sprightly39 and pretty, it seems, engaged too. But I never saw them again.
An eminent40 bishop41 came to confirm us, and we were taken down to town church, where, to our infinite amusement, we occupied several rows of benches opposite a boys' school, also brought hither for the same ceremony, each with a white rosette in his button-hole. None of us took the rite42 very seriously. We found it droll43 to be tapped on the cheek by a white episcopal hand and told that we were soldiers, and we watched the boys to see if their bearing were more martial44 than ours. They seemed equally preoccupied45 with us, and looked as if they felt themselves fools, awkward and shamefaced. They stared hard at our noble youth, Frank, in his eternal skirts—his curls had recently been clipped—and nudged and giggled46. Much of a soldier looked Frank! Heaven help the religion of Christ or the Constitution if either reposed47 faith in his prowess!
Whither has he drifted, and what has life made of the meanest little rascal48 I ever knew? Has he learnt to tell the truth at least? Has some public school licked him into shape, and kicked the cowardice49 and spitefulness out of him? When I became acquainted with Barnes Newcome afterwards, I always thought of that boy Frank. "Sister So-and-so, that nasty Angela is teasing me." "Mother This, I can't eat my bread-and-milk; that horrid50 Angela has put salt into it." And then, when no one was looking, and a child weaker than himself was at hand, what sly pinches, and kicks, and vicious tugs51 at her hair. Noble youth, future pillar of the British empire, I picture you an admirable hypocrite and bully52!
I wonder why the bishop singled me out of all that small crowd for a stupendous honour. He had asked my name, and after a luxurious53 lunch with a few privileged mothers in the convent, he requested somebody to fetch me. The nuns54 did not fail to impress the full measure of this honour upon me, and when I came into the refectory, where the bishop was enthroned like a prince, I caught a reassuring55 beam from my dear friend, Mother Aloysius!
The bishop pushed back his chair and held out both arms to me. I was a singularly pretty child,[Pg 177] I know. My enemy, Sister Esmeralda, had even said that I had the face of an angel with the heart of a fiend. A delicate, proud, and serious little visage, with the finish, the fairness, the transparency of a golden-haired doll, meant to take the prize in an exhibition. But this would hardly explain the extraordinary distinction conferred on me by a man who has passed into history,—a grave and noble nature, with as many cares as a Prime Minister, a man who saw men and women in daily battalions56, and to whom a strange little girl of nine he had never spoken to, could scarcely seem a more serious creature in life than a rabbit or a squirrel.
He had a kind and thoughtful face, deeply lined and striking. I liked his smile at once, and went up to him without any feeling of shyness.
He lifted me on to his knee, kissed my forehead, and looked steadily57 and long into my steady eyes. Then he kissed me again, and called for a big slice of plum-cake, which Mother Aloysius, smiling delightedly at me, was quick to hand him. He took it from the plate, and placed it in my willing grasp.
"A fine and most promising58 little face," I distinctly heard him say to the superioress. "But[Pg 178] be careful of her. A difficult and dangerous temperament59, all nerves and active brain, and a fearful suffering little heart within. Manage her, manage her. I tell you there's the stuff of a great saint or a great sinner here, if she should see twenty-one, which I doubt."
Alas60! I have passed twenty-one years and years ago, with difficulty, it is true, with ever the haunting shadow of death about me, and time has revealed me neither the saint nor the sinner, just a creature of ordinary frailty61 and our common level of virtue62. If I have not exactly gone to perdition—an uncheerful proceeding63 my sense of humour would always guard me from—I have not scaled the heights. I have lived my life, by no means as well as I had hoped in the days we are privileged to hope and to dream, not as loftily, neither with distinction nor success; but I have not accomplished64 any particular villainy, or scandal, or crime that would justify65 my claiming an important place in the ranks of sinners. I have had a good deal more innocent fun, and known a great deal more suffering, than fall to the common lot; and I have enjoyed the fun with all the intensity66 of the mercurial67 Irish temperament, and endured the other with what I think I may[Pg 179] proudly call the courage of my race. I have not injured or cheated a human being, though I have been greatly injured and cheated by more than I could now enumerate68. There ends my scaling of the hill of virtues69.
Of my sins it behoves me not to speak, lest I should fall into the grotesque70 and delightful71 attitude of the sailor I once heard in London make his public confession72 to a Salvation73 Army circle.
"My brothers, I am a miserable74 sinner. In Australia I murdered a man; I drank continually, I thieved, I ran after harlots, and led the life of debauchery. Oh, my friends, pray for me, for now I am converted and know Jesus. I am one of the just, may I remain so. But wicked and debauched and drunken as I was, there were lots more out there much worse than I." In summing up our errors and frailties75, it is always a kindly76 comfort offered our conceit77 to think that there are on all sides of us "lots more much worse than we." Unless our pride chooses to take refuge in the opposite reflection, so we prefer to glory in being much worse than others.
And so ends my single interview with an eminent ecclesiastic78. He kissed me repeatedly, and[Pg 180] stroked my hair while I munched79 my plum-cake on his knee. He questioned me, and discovered my passionate interest in Napoleon and Josephine and the Queen of Prussia, the King-maker, and the children in the Tower. And then, having prophesied80 my early death and luminous81 or lurid82 career, he filled my two small hands with almond-drops and toffee, and sent me away, a being henceforth of something more than common clay.
From that hour my position in Lysterby was improved. I was never even slapped again, though I had had the stupendous good luck to see, unseen myself, the lay-sister who had flogged me go into a cupboard on the staircase, whose door, with the key on the outside, opened outward, and crawling along on hands and knees, reached the door in time to lock her in. I was also known to have climbed fruit-trees, when I robbed enough unripe83 fruit to make all the little ones ill. Yet nobody beat me, and I was let off with a sharp admonishment84. I went my unruly way, secretly protected by the bishop's admiration85.
If I did not amend86, and loved none the more my tyrants87, their rule being less drastic, I had[Pg 181] less occasion to fly out at them. Besides, semi-starvation had subdued88 me for the while. I suffered continually from abscesses and earache89, and spent most of my time in the infirmary, dreaming and reading.
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1
abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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blithely
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| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
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mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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enthralled
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| 迷住，吸引住( enthrall的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到非常愉快 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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usurped
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的过去式和过去分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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fawned
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| v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的过去式和过去分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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aspired
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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forsook
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| forsake的过去式 | |
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condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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martial
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| adj.战争的，军事的，尚武的，威武的 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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51
tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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52
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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nuns
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| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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battalions
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| n.（陆军的）一营（大约有一千兵士）( battalion的名词复数 )；协同作战的部队；军队；（组织在一起工作的）队伍 | |
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57
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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60
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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64
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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mercurial
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| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
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enumerate
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| v.列举，计算，枚举，数 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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72
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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frailties
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| n.脆弱( frailty的名词复数 )；虚弱；（性格或行为上的）弱点；缺点 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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ecclesiastic
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| n.教士，基督教会；adj.神职者的，牧师的，教会的 | |
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munched
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
prophesied
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| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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83
unripe
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| adj.未成熟的；n.未成熟 | |
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84
admonishment
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| n.警告 | |
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85
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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86
amend
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| vt.修改，修订，改进；n.[pl.]赔罪，赔偿 | |
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tyrants
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| 专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 )； 暴君似的人； （古希腊的）僭主； 严酷的事物 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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earache
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| n.耳朵痛 | |
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