The creditors3, grateful for the noble disinterestedness4 which had preserved to them something from the wreck5 of their fortunes, were disposed to treat the bankrupt’s wife with consideration and indulgence. She might remain in her present dwelling6 as long as it should suit her convenience to do so. But to Clemence, Belgrave Square was now a more intolerable abode7 than the wastes of Spitzbergen might have proved; to escape from it was to quit a prison, and she hastened her departure accordingly.
Lady Selina was also on the look-out for another abode, and spent the greater part of her time in house-hunting with Arabella; Louisa was seldom of the party, as she shrank from exertion8, and considered herself yet too delicate to be exposed to the wintry air. During the fortnight before Clemence left London, Louisa was often her companion, and many a gentle word of counsel from the step-mother, whose misfortunes had rendered her dearer, sank into the poor girl’s heart. Lady Selina, whose pride was now undergoing perpetual mortifications—whose present occupation made her more bitterly feel the change in her fortunes, and more bitterly hate “the scrupulous9 idiot whose folly10 had plunged11 her whole family into distress,” was so irritable12 and peevish13, that Louisa sometimes asked herself whether, even in a worldly point of view, her choice had been a wise one. She parted from Clemence with many tears, and with many promises of remembrance;—like Orpah, she could weep for her Naomi,—but, like Orpah, she turned back to her idols14.
It is a bright wintry evening. The orb15 of the sun is just resting on a distant hill, and his reflected beams are lighting16 up the windows of a small cottage with a ruddy gleam; the abode itself, however, has a lonely and rather desolate18 air. It stands on an embankment which overlooks a railway whose straight dark lines form no picturesque19 object to the view, disappearing in the blackness of a tunnel which pierces a hill to the left. That hill, with its bare outline, entirely20 shuts out from sight the town of M——, distant about a mile from the spot. There is no appearance of any human habitation near, except this solitary21 little brick cottage, perched like a sentinel on the embankment, but turning its back to the railway, its front to the road, like one who prefers old friends to new, having probably been erected22 before the line was projected. The lone17 abode has a small, uncultivated garden in front, surrounded by a straggling fence, through whose sundry23 gaps an active child could easily force his way—from which a foot-path, seldom trodden, and green with moss24, runs into the narrow road which leads to the town of M——.
There is, certainly, little to attract in the outward appearance of the dwelling, and within we shall find it furnished in the most plain and homely25 style. No carpet adorns26 the floor, no curtain breaks the straight line of the windows; but the floor itself is spotlessly clean, the bright windows exclude none of the sunbeams, and a cheerful fire diffuses27 kindly28 warmth through the little white-washed parlour. The deal table is spread with a snowy cloth, and heaped with little dainties—nuts, oranges, and apples—brought by Mr. Gray in a hamper29 carefully packed by his wife. A rosy-cheeked girl, about fifteen years old, is for the third time this day busily dusting the rush seats of the chairs, and altering their positions, so as to show them off to the best advantage. She stops in her employment every few minutes to run into the miniature kitchen and watch whether the chicken, likewise provided by Mrs. Gray, duly revolves30 before the fire. There are eggs, bacon, and cheese on the dresser, all produced from the Stoneby hamper, and the young servant looks with admiration31 on her own preparations for the feast.
A proud, rich, and happy girl Martha Jones feels herself this day to be! Is it not wondrous32 promotion33 to be sole servant to such a lady as Mrs. Effingham,—to take the place of so many footmen dressed more dashingly than militia34 officers,—a housekeeper35 who, as she has heard, looks much grander than Mrs. Gray—and a bevy36 of fine London maids! And a whole sovereign every quarter! is not that wealth to one who has never touched a gold piece in her life? Can any service be more delightful37 than that of sweet, gentle “Miss Clemence,” who has always a kind word for every one, and never willingly gives trouble or pain! Martha envies the lot of no queen as she cheerfully goes about her work, the joyousness38 of her blithe39 young heart often breaking forth40 into song.
R-r-r-r-r! with a roar a train rushes past, and vanishes into the dark chasm41 of the tunnel, before the cottage has ceased to tremble or the windows to rattle42 with the vibration43! Martha, unaccustomed to the sound, starts as if she were shot, then bursts into a merry laugh.
“How it makes one jump! I thought as how the house would come down! I’d as lief not live quite so near a railway! But I’ll get used to it, no doubt; and they say, as the trains come in so reg’lar, they’ll serve instead of a clock. Missus must be a-travelling by that train; she’ll get to the town in no time. She’ll be gladsome to find Mr. Gray at the station, all ready to welcome her back. They say, poor dear lady, she’s had a deal of trouble since that merry day of the wedding, when we had such a feast on the green. First there was the good old captain drowned, and she was the light of his eyes—I guess there was no love lost atween them; then her money ran away. How it went at once I can’t make out. Mr. Effingham seemed to have no end of it when he married! Had we not each of us a warm winter’s cloak, and Mr. Gray a silver inkstand! and did not Mr. Effingham’s gentleman tell the clerk as how his master was wondrous rich, and lived in a palace in Lunnon, whose very stables were bigger than the parsonage, and that he would spend as much at one dinner as would build us a new church-tower! It’ll be a mighty44 change to Miss Clemence,” soliloquized the girl, her merry, good-humoured face assuming a graver expression as she looked around her; “certain, things are very different here from what they was even in the captain’s cottage. She made everything so pretty around her! But so she will here; we shan’t know the place when she’s been here a month!” quoth the light-hearted Martha, as she arranged for the last time in a saucer of white crockery some six or seven early violets discovered after much search by the school-children at Stoneby, and sent as tokens of affection to their former dear young teacher. Surely the perfume of those wild-flowers would not have been sweeter had they been placed in a vase of Sèvres china!
The sun had now entirely disappeared, though a red glow remained on the horizon. Martha became more and more impatient. Even at the hazard of spoiling the dinner, she could not help running to the little broken gate at the end of the garden, to see if any one were coming up the road.
“Surely they’ll take the evening coach; Mr. Gray must return in it to Stoneby, or he’ll not get back to-night. ’Twill drop ’em just at the gate. Was not that the sound of wheels? Yes! surely! and there’s the coach turning the corner!—and—I’ve never cut the bacon ready for frying, and the chicken will be burned to a coal!”
Back flew the little maid to her post of duty, busy, bustling45 and happy as a bee in a clump46 of heather; and she returned to the gate just in time to see Mr. Gray bending from the top of the coach to give a last word and blessing47 to Clemence, while Vincent assisted, with more good-will than strength, to haul down a corded box and portmanteau.
Clemence stood for some moments with clasped hands and swimming eyes, watching the coach as in the darkening twilight48 it rattled49 away, bearing from her the only friend upon earth who had given her ready assistance and counsel in this her time of adversity and trial. How gladly would she have accompanied the pastor50 to the dear village where her happy childhood had been spent! Vincent was too busy to watch his step-mother. He felt as self-important in charge of the luggage as if all the wealth that his father had ever possessed51 had been intrusted to his sole care.
“Here, you—what’s your name, little girl!” he cried to Martha, “just help me in with this box. Is not the servant there to uncord it?” Clemence turned at the sound of his voice, and her kindly greeting to the smiling, curtsying Martha, first announced to Vincent that the “little girl” was actually the servant who was to comprise in herself all the establishment of Willow52 Cottage.
Vincent was young and merry-hearted, and as he helped to drag the portmanteau into the cottage, and looked at its white-washed walls and bare floor, so unlike everything to which he had been accustomed, the idea of actually dwelling in such a place struck him as irresistibly53 comic.
“I say, mamma!” he exclaimed with a laugh, “are we really to live in this nut-shell? How amazed Aunt Selina would be could she see it! It’s just like a gardener’s cottage!”
“As we can’t turn the cottage into a palace to suit Master Vincent,” said Clemence, with a desperate attempt at cheerfulness, “suppose that Master Vincent turn into a gardener to suit the cottage?”
“I think that I must turn into a great many other things besides—cook, for instance,” he added, as Martha placed the roasted chicken upon the table; “I think that we must call that a black cock!”
Clemence silenced the boy by a glance till the poor girl had quitted the room, and then Vincent laughingly exclaimed, “Why, I was making game of the chicken, and not of the cook! but could we not give her a hint not to roast a poor fowl54 to a cinder55 next time?”
Clemence thought, “It will be long enough before we have another fowl to roast!”
Notwithstanding the inexperience of the cook, Vincent, whose appetite was sharpened by fatigue56 and cold, did ample justice to the feast which Mrs. Gray had provided, and ate half of the chicken himself, to say nothing of bacon and eggs. He vainly endeavoured to induce his step-mother to follow his example.
“I say,” observed Vincent, busy with a wing, “that girl is a capital servant, I dare say, and Mrs. Ventner is not fit to hold a candle to her; but I wish that she knew how to hold a candle to us! Just see!—she has forgotten to bring us any, and has left her own tallow dip, to ‘make darkness visible,’ as papa would say.”
“My dear boy,” replied Clemence quietly, “we must not look for better light here, till we have the sun himself as our candle.”
“A dip into poverty; but we’ll make light of it!” cried Vincent, the pun reconciling him to the privation. Whether exhilarated by change of air, or desirous to cheer his companion, the boy seemed disposed to make a jest of every discomfort57. There was in him a buoyancy of spirit, an energy of will, which had never appeared to such advantage in the pampered58 child of the wealthy banker.
“But, I say, we must make ourselves a little more comfortable!” cried Vincent; “the wind blows through that window like a gale59, and Martha has forgotten to close the shutters60!” Up he sprang to remedy her negligence62. “Why, there’s not a bit of a shutter61!” he exclaimed in surprise; “nothing at all to keep the wind out!”
“I think that you will have to make some,” said Clemence.
“Make shutters!” exclaimed Vincent, look doubtful at first whether to be pleased or disgusted, but deciding at last on the former. “Well, it’s lucky I brought my tool-box. I never did anything but spoil wood as yet, but maybe I’ll turn out a capital carpenter, if I mayn’t be a cook. I’ll saw away at my shutters in the evening when I come back from my studies.” Then in a softer tone Vincent went on: “Won’t you be very dull here all alone during the day? what will you do to amuse yourself here?”
“I have provided myself, dear boy, with plenty of occupation. I found, before we left London, that you required new shirts, so I have brought a supply of the material with me that I may make them myself.”
“You make my shirts!” exclaimed Vincent with feeling; “well, I shall like them better than any that ever I wore. I’m growing quite proud, you see, now that I’ve such a lady for my needlewoman!”
“And I quite grand,” replied Clemence, with a smile, “when I’ve such a gentleman for my carpenter!”
With such light conversation the weary, heart-stricken wife strove to beguile63 the first evening in Willow Cottage. Whatever her own secret sorrows might be, she was resolved that they should not sadden her intercourse64 with Vincent. It was a pleasure to her to see the brave cheerfulness with which he was preparing to do battle with difficulties. With his bright eyes and ringing laugh, Vincent was to his step-mother the impersonification of Hope. And never had Clemence with more fervent65 thankfulness pronounced the grace after meals, than in that small, cold, and comfortless cottage, for which she had exchanged all the luxuries of her splendid mansion66. She had resigned those luxuries for the dearer one of eating her bread in peace, and with a quiet mind, conscious of wronging none; and sweeter, oh! how much sweeter, would be the poorest crust partaken of thus, than all the dainties of a board at which it were mockery to ask a blessing!e will now change our scene, and pass over the events of more than a fortnight—a most weary fortnight to Clemence, who pined in vain for another letter from Mr.
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1
dreaded
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| 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) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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disinterestedness
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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11
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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12
irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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14
idols
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| 偶像( idol的名词复数 )； 受崇拜的人或物； 受到热爱和崇拜的人或物； 神像 | |
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15
orb
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| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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18
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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19
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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20
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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21
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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22
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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23
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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26
adorns
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| 装饰，佩带( adorn的第三人称单数 ) | |
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diffuses
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| （使光）模糊，漫射，漫散( diffuse的第三人称单数 )； （使）扩散； （使）弥漫； （使）传播 | |
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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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hamper
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| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
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revolves
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| v.（使）旋转( revolve的第三人称单数 )；细想 | |
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31
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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militia
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| n.民兵，民兵组织 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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bevy
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| n.一群 | |
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37
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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joyousness
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| 快乐，使人喜悦 | |
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blithe
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| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
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40
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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41
chasm
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| n.深坑，断层，裂口，大分岐，利害冲突 | |
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42
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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43
vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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44
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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46
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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47
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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48
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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49
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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50
pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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51
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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52
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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53
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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54
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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55
cinder
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| n.余烬，矿渣 | |
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56
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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57
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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58
pampered
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| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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60
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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61
shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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62
negligence
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| n.疏忽，玩忽，粗心大意 | |
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63
beguile
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| vt.欺骗，消遣 | |
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64
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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