“I propose,” continued Clemence, “to rent a cottage, a very small cottage in Cornwall, my native county, where necessary expenses can be reduced to a very narrow scale, unless I should receive directions from my husband which would induce me to alter my arrangements. If any of his family will share that humble1 abode2, it will be my heart’s desire to make them as—;” the word “happy” would not come, it died on the trembling lip, and a sigh concluded the broken sentence.
Arabella slightly elevated her brow and her shoulders; Louisa looked uneasily at her aunt.
“Such is your offer, madam; now listen to mine,” said Lady Selina, folding her hands with the air of one about to give a proof of magnanimous self-denial. “I need not speak of the fervent3 affection which I have ever borne to my sister’s children. My dear nieces have always looked to me as to the representative of a cherished mother, and in the hour of adversity I shall be the last to desert them. To my home, wherever that may be, most freely do I bid them welcome. With Vincent the case is different; though my love for him is the same, I cannot, as doubtless Mrs. Effingham will do, undertake the expenses of his education, or give to my dear nephew the advantages which are indispensable to a boy of his age.”
Doubtless the affectionate aunt had not forgotten that whereas Vincent was absolutely penniless, the united incomes of her nieces, moderate as they were, would exactly double her own. Few of those who knew the lady intimately would have given her credit for disinterested4 kindness; but whatever might be her motive5 for the offer, Arabella was not slow to accept it.
“As, after what has occurred,” said the proud girl, drawing herself up to her full height, “I should have declined sharing a palace with Mrs. Effingham, her society would scarcely allure6 me to the hovel which she chooses as her place of abode. I shall certainly remain with my aunt.”
But the choice of Louisa was not so readily made. Her heart was drawn7 towards her step-mother, so gentle and patient in her sorrow; she felt for Clemence’s loneliness and desolation. Louisa could not quite forget the tenderness with which she had been tended through her illness; she could not quite forget how, in the long dreary8 nights, a gentle watcher had bathed her fevered brow, offered the cooling draught9, and spoken words of holy comfort and hope. Her step-mother was connected in her mind with all that her conscience approved as right, her regret for past errors, her resolutions of amendment11, her thoughts on religion and heaven. Louisa had sufficient intelligence to see the difference of character between Clemence and her aunt. She could neither love nor trust Lady Selina, as she could the pure-minded and unselfish woman whom her father had chosen as his wife. But if Mrs. Effingham stood in the mind of Louisa as the emblem12 and the representative of quiet piety13, her aunt, on the other hand, seemed that of the world and all its tempting14 delights. Lady Selina would doubtless remain in London; to stay with her was to partake of its pleasures, to enjoy its dazzling scenes,—to dance, to shine, to see and to be seen. Oh! what magic images of glittering splendour were conjured15 up before the mind’s eye of Louisa, by the name of a “London season!” And could she give up all this? could she endure to bury herself in dreary Cornwall, with no gaiety, no amusement, no admirers, like some flower doomed16 to—
“Blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air?”
The idea was intolerable! Not gratitude17, esteem18, pity, conscience, were sufficient to fortify19 the poor girl against its terrors. She loved the world—she was of the world. Her idol20 had been shaken—but destroyed, never! It was resuming its old supremacy21 in a heart which, though apparently22 cleansed23 for a while, had been found empty of that divine faith which overcometh the world! Louisa hesitated, indeed, but not for long. Avoiding looking at her step-mother as she spoke10, in a low, faltering24 voice, she said, “I think—I would rather—remain in London—like my sister.”
Lady Selina cast a triumphant25 glance at Clemence, and going up to her nieces, embraced them both with many tender expressions, of which they, perhaps, guessed the real value. Mrs. Effingham quietly quitted the room, feeling very desolate26 and low, and thinking that for her the most welcome home would be one much narrower and much quieter than any cottage dwelling27. Just as she was entering her own apartment, Vincent, who had been an excited though silent listener to the preceding conversation, rushed after and overtook her. The boy flung his arms tightly around her neck, exclaiming, “Mother! you and I will stick together through thick and thin!”
Clemence returned the embrace with fervour; she clasped the boy to her aching heart as if she would have pressed him into it, and wept aloud in passionate28 grief, till almost choked by her convulsive sobs29. It was even as the accumulated masses of Alpine30 snows, melting under the warm sunshine, burst through the barriers which restrain them, and pour their swelling31 floods into the valleys below. Vincent was almost alarmed at the sudden violence of emotion in one usually so quiet and gentle; but, oh! what a weight of sorrow had been pent up in that burdened heart!
Clemence was relieved by the burst of tears, and, when again alone, seated herself before her desk, and, resting her brow upon her hand, gave herself up to thought. Yes, she had something to live for! That boy, that son of her heart, to him would she devote her life, while the painful separation from his father should last. What Lady Selina had said on the subject of Vincent’s education, now pondered over in solitude32, wrought33 some change in the plans of Clemence. She must give up the idea of renting a cottage at Stoneby, where she could again enjoy the society of dear friends, and return to the occupations which she loved. Clemence could not, with justice to Vincent, undertake his tuition herself, and Mr. Gray was far too busily engaged in his extensive parish to do so. There was a market-town about ten miles from the village, where Clemence well knew that excellent daily tuition at an academy might be secured at a very trifling34 expense. This determined35 her course; personal comfort and inclination36 should not for a moment be weighed against that which might be of such importance to the future prospects37 of her step-son. Clemence dipped her pen, and wrote an answer to the letter of Mr. Gray. She told him briefly38 of the part which she had taken in regard to the fortune; declined with deep gratitude his offer of a home; and entreated39 him, as soon as possible, to secure for her a cottage within walking distance of the academy of M——. Clemence limited the annual rent to a sum which would scarcely have paid for one of the dresses which she had worn in the days of her wealth, and requested that one of the girls from her Sunday school might be engaged as her solitary40 servant.
The descent into poverty is most painful when one slow step after another is reluctantly taken down the road of humiliation,—at each some cherished comfort mournfully laid aside! Better far to calculate at once the full amount of what must be resigned, put away every superfluity, and resolutely41 make the plunge42! Clemence ended her letter by a reiterated43 entreaty44 that her friend might engage the cottage at his earliest convenience, as she yearned45 to quit London, where every moment brought with it some bitter pang46 of remembrance.
And now one other task remained to be performed—a task intensely painful. Most thankfully would Clemence have avoided it, or, if it must be fulfilled, have deputed its execution to another. But to whom could the young wife intrust the delicate office of disposing of her jewels? Was it absolutely necessary to part with them at all? Would none of her friends, her numerous acquaintances, assist her at least with a loan? Clemence was sorely tempted47 to try, and more than once commenced a note to one whom she knew had the means to aid, and whom she hoped might have also the heart; but she never got beyond the first line. Would it be honest to borrow money, which she could hardly hope ever to repay? would it be right, while she was in possession of valuables which might be converted into gold? After all, she could look on the meditated48 sacrifice as made for her son, her Vincent, the child of her beloved husband, and that would give her courage to make it.
With a sickening heart Clemence removed from her jewel-box her husband’s miniature, her mother’s wedding-ring, and the little locket containing her parents’ hair, which had been her bridal-gift from her uncle,—these, at least, she must ever retain; and after a hasty preparation, as if fearful that her resolution might fail her if she should delay, even for an hour, the accomplishment49 of her design, Clemence glided50 out of her house with her jewel-case under her cloak.
Rapidly she walked through the streets, like one who dreads51 observation, drawing her thick black veil closely before her face. The shops in one of the principal thoroughfares of London, which it was her object to visit, were distant from Belgrave Square, and Mrs. Effingham had never before attempted to reach them on foot. She had repeatedly to inquire the road to them, and she did so with a shrinking timidity, which made more than one of her informants watch with an eye of instinctive52 pity her slight, fragile form, clad in its mourning garb53, as it hurried on its onward54 way.
At length the gay, bright street was reached, noisy with carriages, thronged55 with pedestrians57, offering in its thousand decorated windows temptations for every eye. Clemence had often driven down that street in her own carriage, one of the fairest, the most admired, the most envied of the throng56. Now, the bankrupt’s wife dreaded58 the recognition of any familiar face, as, weary and faint, she entered a magnificent shop, which she had often noticed, in passing, for the brilliant display of jewellery behind its plate glass.
There were several customers in the shop, and Clemence, whose courage was failing her, was almost upon the point of retreating, when the jeweller requested her to take a seat, she should be served in an instant; and Clemence sank wearily upon the proffered59 chair. She had some time to wait. A young betrothed60 couple were choosing ornaments61 at the counter. At another time, the sight of their happiness would have only called forth62 emotions of pleasure; but the painful contrast between their errand and her own—they coming to purchase, she to part with pledges of tender affection—was so overcoming to Clemence, that when the jeweller at length, after smilingly bowing out his customers, turned to inquire her pleasure, she could scarcely command her voice sufficiently63 to make her wishes intelligible64.
GOING TO SELL THE JEWELS.
The man’s face at once lost its smiling expression. “We sometimes exchange jewels,” said he coldly “but never make purchases in that way.” Like a fluttered bird, Clemence made her escape out of the shop.
Must she try another? Yes, that one on the opposite side of the street. So engaged in her own thoughts was Mrs. Effingham, so abstracted from all that was passing around her, that as she crossed the road she narrowly escaped being thrown down by a passing vehicle. Once more summoning all her resolution, she entered the shop. Here she was at least attended to without delay. A tall, hard-visaged man in spectacles, was ready to receive the lady’s commands. Clemence did not seat herself, but resting her trembling hand on the counter, told her errand, and produced her jewels. The man opened the case, and examined one article after the other, as if mentally calculating its value. That precious guard-ring, first gift of affection; that chain which loved hands had placed round her neck; the diamond brooch selected by her husband; the watch, by which she had counted so many blissful hours,—it seemed to Clemence almost like desecration65 to see them in the hand of a stranger! It was really a relief to her that a sum so much below their actual value was offered by the jeweller, that she could, without self-reproach, bear her treasures away from the place.
And yet they must—they must be sold! She must not return to her home without success! A third time the drooping66, heart-sick Clemence crossed the threshold of a shop, where everything spoke of luxury and wealth. This visit was the most trying of all! The dapper little tradesman behind the counter eyed with a quick and penetrating67 glance, not only the jewels, but their owner. Clemence read in his curious look, “How came you possessed68 of such things as these?” The bare idea of suspicion covered the pallid69 countenance70 of the youthful lady with a burning glow. It seemed to her as if the first words from the tradesman might be a question as to her own right to the property of which she wished to dispose. He spoke, but to Clemence’s relief it was only to mention terms of purchase. Clemence, who had been tried almost beyond what she could bear, hastily closed with his offer, and again had to encounter that curious, scrutinizing71 look. Glad, most glad was she to leave the shop and the street, with their bustle72 and grandeur73, far behind her, though the sum which she bore with her as the price of her jewels was less than one-third of what they had originally cost!
“But is the sacrifice sufficient?” Such was the question which Clemence asked herself as, almost sinking from fatigue74, she at length regained75 the well-known precincts of Belgrave Square, and wearily remounted the steps of her magnificent mansion76. “Is the sacrifice sufficient?” she repeated, as, hastily throwing off the cloak, whose weight even in that wintry day oppressed her, she sank on the sofa in her own apartment. Could she on so trifling a sum travel to Cornwall, and support Vincent and herself until she could draw her interest in June? It was barely possible that, by the severest economy, she might procure77 the necessaries of life, but Vincent’s schooling78, small as would be its expense—it would be idle to think of that! And was he, of whose talents and progress his father had been so proud, to lose by months of idleness all that he had gained during years of application? Clemence opened her desk, and drew from it her most precious possession—the miniature of her husband. Its diamond setting was even as the admiration79 and praise of the world which had once gathered around the original of that portrait, whom the same world now scorned and condemned80. Would the picture be less precious without it, to her who valued every feature in the likeness81 beyond all the jewels in Peru? And yet fast fell the tears of the unhappy wife, as she removed from its sparkling encirclement the ivory from which her husband’s eyes seemed to be looking upon her, calm and bright, as in the first happy days of their love! Could such a countenance deceive? Could dishonour82 ever sit on such a brow? Fervently83 Clemence pressed to her lips again and again the lifeless miniature, divested84 of outward adornment85, but to its possessor even dearer than ever. Dearer, because there was nothing now but itself to give it value; dearer, because by man it would now be regarded as a worthless thing!—was it not an emblem of the beloved one whose image it bore?
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
fervent
|
|
| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
disinterested
|
|
| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
allure
|
|
| n.诱惑力，魅力；vt.诱惑，引诱，吸引 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
amendment
|
|
| n.改正，修正，改善，修正案 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
emblem
|
|
| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
piety
|
|
| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
tempting
|
|
| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
conjured
|
|
| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
esteem
|
|
| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
fortify
|
|
| v.强化防御，为…设防；加强，强化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
idol
|
|
| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
supremacy
|
|
| n.至上；至高权力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
cleansed
|
|
| 弄干净，清洗( cleanse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
faltering
|
|
| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
triumphant
|
|
| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
dwelling
|
|
| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
alpine
|
|
| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
swelling
|
|
| n.肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
trifling
|
|
| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
inclination
|
|
| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
prospects
|
|
| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
entreated
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
resolutely
|
|
| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
reiterated
|
|
| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
entreaty
|
|
| n.恳求，哀求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
yearned
|
|
| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
pang
|
|
| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
meditated
|
|
| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
accomplishment
|
|
| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
glided
|
|
| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
dreads
|
|
| n.恐惧，畏惧( dread的名词复数 )；令人恐惧的事物v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
instinctive
|
|
| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
garb
|
|
| n.服装，装束 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
thronged
|
|
| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
pedestrians
|
|
| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
proffered
|
|
| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
betrothed
|
|
| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
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： |
|
|
|
|
62
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
intelligible
|
|
| adj.可理解的，明白易懂的，清楚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
desecration
|
|
| n. 亵渎神圣, 污辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
drooping
|
|
| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
penetrating
|
|
| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
pallid
|
|
| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
scrutinizing
|
|
| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
bustle
|
|
| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
fatigue
|
|
| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
regained
|
|
| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
mansion
|
|
| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
procure
|
|
| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
schooling
|
|
| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
likeness
|
|
| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
dishonour
|
|
| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
fervently
|
|
| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
divested
|
|
| v.剥夺( divest的过去式和过去分词 )；脱去（衣服）；2。从…取去…；1。（给某人）脱衣服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
adornment
|
|
| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |