‘May I come in?’ said Mrs. Hayward.
‘Certainly, mem, ye may come in, and welcome. Come away,’ said Janet, lifting a wooden chair, and placing it, though the day
{55}
was very warm, within reach of the fire. It was clean as scrubbing could make it, yet she dusted it mechanically with her apron, as is the cottager’s use. Mrs. Hayward watched every movement with her bright eyes, and observed all the details of the little house. A simple woman, looking like a French peasant with her thick cap; a little rustic9 village house, without the slightest pretension10 of anything more. And this was the house in which the girl had been bred who Henry said was a lady—a lady! He knew so little, poor fellow, and men are taken in so easily. No doubt she was dressed in cheap finery, like so many of the village girls.
‘I wanted, if you will allow me, to make some inquiries12 about your—but she is not your daughter?’
‘About Joyce?’ said the old woman quickly. She put down the bowl and came forward a few steps, from henceforward departing from her rôle of simple hospitality and friendliness13, and becoming at once one of the parties to a duel14, watching every step her adversary15 made. ‘And what will ye be wanting with Joyce?’ she asked, planting her foot firmly on the floor of her little kingdom. She was queen and mistress there, let the other be what she might.
‘It is difficult to say it in a few words,’ said Mrs. Hayward. ‘I have heard that though you have brought her up like your child, and been so tender to her, yet that she is no relation of yours.’
‘There are idle folk in every place,’ said Janet sententiously, ‘who have nothing to do but to stir up a’ the idle tales that ever were heard about the country-side.’
‘Do you mean, then, that this is an idle tale?’
The two antagonists16 watched each other with keen observation, and Janet saw that there was something like pleasure, or at least relief, in her adversary’s manner of putting the question. ‘It a’ depends on the sense it’s put in,’ she said.
‘We can’t go on fencing like this all day,’ cried Mrs. Hayward quickly. ‘I will tell you plainly what I want. My husband has seen the girl whom you call Joyce.’
‘Mem, you might keep a more civil tongue in your head,’ said Janet, ‘and ca’ her something else than the girl.’
‘What should I call her? I have not seen her. It is not with any will of my own that I am here. I hear her very highly spoken of, and your great kindness to her, and her—what is far more uncommon—gratitude18 to you.’
‘Mem,’ said Janet, ‘we Scots folk, we’re awfu’ unregenerate in the way of pride. We are little used to have leddies coming
{56}
inquiring into our maist private concerns, ca’ing a woman’s affection for her bairn kindness, and a good lassie’s good heart for her faither and mither gratitude.’
‘I quite agree with you,’ said Mrs. Hayward, rising up suddenly and putting out her hand. ‘You are quite right, and I am—unregenerate as you say. The reason is, I have been a little put out this morning, and I have inquiries to make which I don’t make with any heart. I have come to ask you to let me see the things which Joyce’s mother left behind her—or at least the letters which Mrs. Bellendean told my husband of. A glance at them would possibly settle the question. My husband thinks—that he knows who she is.’
Janet had wiped her hand with her apron, and given it to her visitor, but with some reluctance19. ‘And wha may your husband be, mem?’ she said.
‘He says he spoke17 to you the other day. He is, though I say it, a distinguished20 soldier. He is Colonel Hayward, who was Captain Bellendean’s commanding officer.’
Janet was not greatly moved by Colonel Hayward’s distinction, nor by his grade, but that he should be the Captain’s commanding officer impressed her at once. ‘Then he’ll be a gentleman that’s far aboon the like of us,’ she said, ‘and no’ a man that would put forth21 his hand for naught22, or disturb a decent poor family without just cause.’ She stood a little, fingering her apron, ‘glowering frae her,’ as she would have said, casting a wistful look into vacancy23. ‘It will maybe be something—that would make a great change,’ she said, her lips quivering a little, ‘if it cam’ true.’
‘I am afraid it would make a great change,’ said Mrs. Hayward, and she added with a sigh, ‘both to you and to me.’
‘To you!’ Janet clasped her hands. ‘What will you have to do with it? What would it be to the like of you? You’re no—you’re no——? or the Cornel——?’ The old woman put her hand with natural eloquence24 to her breast. ‘My heart’s just louping like to choke me. Oh mem, what would it be to you?’
‘Look here,’ said her visitor. ‘We may be giving ourselves a great deal of unnecessary trouble. It may happen that when I see the letters it will all come to nothing. Then let me see them directly, there’s a dear woman. That is the best and the only thing to do.’
There was a sweep of energetic movement about this rapid little lady that pressed forward Janet’s reluctant feet. She took a step or two forward towards the stair. But there she paused
{57}
again. ‘I’ve aye said to Peter we must keep a loose grip,’ she said. ‘And when she was only a wean it would have been nothing: but she’s come to be that between him and me, that I canna tell how we’re ever to part. I’ve never said it to her. Na. I’m no’ one to spoil a young cratur’ with praisin’ her. I’ve kept it before her, that if she had mair headpiece than the rest, it was nae credit of hers, but just her Maker25 that had made her sae. It’s no’ for that. It’s no because she’s an honour and a glory to them that have brought her up. Whiles the one that ye are proudest of is just the one that will rend26 your heart. But she’s that sweet—and that bonnie—bonnie in a’ her ways—ye canna help but see she’s a leddy born; but to take upon hersel’ because o’ that. Na, na. That shows ye dinna ken11 our J’yce. Oh, I aye said haud a loose grip!’ cried the old woman, with broken sobs27 interrupting her speech. ‘I’ve said it to my man a thoosan’ times and a thoosan’ to that; but it’s mair than I have done mysel’ at the hinder end.’
The stranger’s bright eyes grew dim. She put her hand on Janet’s arm. ‘I should like to cry too,’ she said—‘not like you, for love, but for pure contrariness, and spite, and malice28, and all that’s wicked. Come and show me the letters. Perhaps we are just troubling ourselves in vain, both you and I——’
‘Na, na, it’s no’ in vain,’ said Janet, restraining herself with a vehement29 effort. ‘If it may be sae this time, it’ll no’ be sae anither time. We may just be thankful we have keepit her sae lang. I never looked for it, for my pairt. I’ll gang first, mem, though it’s no’ mainners, to show you the way. This is her cha’amer, my bonnie darling; no’ much of a place for a leddy like you to come in to, or for a leddy like her—God bless her!—to sleep in. But we gave her what we had. We could do nae mair—if ye were a queen ye could do nae mair. And she’s been as content all her bonnie days as if she was in the king’s palace. Oh, but she’s been content; singing about the house that it was a pleasure to hear her, and never thinking shame—never, never—of her auld30 granny, wherever she was. She has ca’ed me aye granny—it was mair natural; and nae slight upon the poor bonny bit thing that is dead and gone.’
Janet went on talking as she placed a chair for the visitor, and went forward to the rude little desk where Joyce kept her treasures. She talked on, finding a relief in it, a necessity for exertion31. Mrs. Hayward looked round the little homely place, meanwhile, with a curiosity which was almost painful. It was a tiny little room with a sloping roof, furnished in the simplest way, though a white
{58}
counterpane on the little bed, and the white covering of the little dressing-table in the window, gave an air of care and daintiness amid the simple surroundings. A few photographs of pictures were pinned against the wall. But the place of honour was given to two photographic groups framed, one representing a group of school children, the other a band of (Mrs. Hayward thought) very uncouth32 and clumsy young men. Janet, with a wave of her hand towards these, said— ‘Hersel’ and her lassies,’ and ‘Andrew and some of his freends.’ It seemed to the keen but agitated33 observer, in the formality of the heavy cluster of faces, as if all were equally commonplace and uninteresting. She sat down and watched, with an impatience34 which nothing but long practice could have kept within bounds, while Janet opened the desk which stood against the wall, and then a drawer in it, out of which at last, with trembling hands, she brought a little parcel, wrapped in a white handkerchief. Janet was as reluctant as her visitor was eager. She would fain have deferred35 the test, or put it aside altogether. Why had she kept these papers for her own undoing36? She undid37 the handkerchief slowly. There fell out of it as she unfolded it several small articles, each done up in a little separate packet. ‘A’ her bit things that she had,’ Janet explained. ‘A locket round her neck, and a bit little watch that winna go, and the chain to it, and twa rings. I wanted Joyce to wear them, but she will wear nothing o’ the kind, no’ so much as a bit brooch. Maybe you will ken the rings if you see them,’ said Janet, always anxious to postpone38 the final question, putting down the larger packet, and picking up with shaking fingers, which dropped them two or three times before they were finally secured, the tiny parcel in which the ornaments39 were enclosed.
‘No, no,’ said Mrs. Hayward. ‘The letters are the only things. Show me the letters, I implore41 you, and don’t let us torture ourselves with suspense42.’
‘Ae kind of torture is just as bad as another,’ said the old woman, undoing with great unsteadiness the cotton-wool in which the trinkets were enclosed. She held them out in the palm of her brown and work-scarred hand. A little ring of pearl and turquoise43, made for a very slender finger, in a simple pattern, like a girl’s first ornament40, and beside it another, equally small, a ruby44 set round with brilliants. The glimmer45 of the stones in the old woman’s tremulous hand, the presence of these fragile symbols of a life and history past, gave the spectator a shock of sympathetic pain almost in spite of herself. She put them away with a hurried gesture— ‘No, no; nothing but the letters. I never saw these
{59}
before; I know nothing—nothing but the letters. Show me the letters.’
Janet looked at the trinkets and then at Mrs. Hayward, with a rising light of hope in her eyes. ‘Ye never saw them before? It will just be somebody else and no her ye was thinking of? That’s maist likely, that’s real likely——’ wrapping them up again slowly in their cotton-wool. Her fingers, unused to delicate uses, were more than ever awkward in their tremor46. To put them back again was the business of several minutes, during which she went on: ‘You will not be heeding47 to see the other things? I have them here in her box, just as she left them—for Joyce would never hear of puttin’ on onything—and they’re auld-fashioned, nae doubt, poor things. You’ll no be heeding?—oh ay, the letters—I’m forgetting the letters. But, mem, if ye’ve nae knowledge of her bit rings and things, ye will get nothing out of the letters. There’s nae information in them. I’ve read them mysel’ till I could near say them off by heart, but head or tail of them I could mak’ nane. Here they are, any way. She’s made a kind of a pocket-book to put them in—a’ her ain work, and bonnie work it is—flowered with gold; I never kent where she got the gift o’t. Ye would think she could just do onything she turned her hand to. Ay, there they are.’
And with no longer any possible pretence48 for delay, she thrust a little velvet49 case into Mrs. Hayward’s hand—who between impatience and suspense was as much excited as herself. It was worked in gold thread with a runic cross, twisted with many knots and intertwinings, and executed with all the imperfections of an art as uninstructed as that of the early workers in stone who had wrought50 Joyce’s model. Inside, wrapped carefully in paper, were the two silent witnesses—the records of the tragedy, the evidence which would be conclusive51. Mrs. Hayward’s hands trembled too as she came to this decisive point—they dropped out of her fingers into her lap. Her heart gave a leap of relief when her eye fell on the handwriting of the uppermost, which was unknown to her. The other was folded, nothing showing but the paper, yellow and worn at the edges with much perusal52. In spite of herself, she took this up with a feeling of repugnance53 and dread—afraid of it, afraid to touch it, afraid to see—— what instinct told her must be there. She paused, holding it in her hand, and gave Janet a look. No words passed between them, but for the moment their hearts were one.
Mrs. Hayward opened the folded paper, then gave a low cry, and looked at Janet once more—and to both the women there was
{60}
a moment during which the solid earth, and this little prosaic54 spot on it, seemed to go round and round.
‘It will be what you was looking for?’ said Janet at last. She had been full of lamentation55 and resistance before. She felt nothing now except the hand of fate. The other shook her head.
‘Yes,’ she replied, and said no more.
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收听单词发音
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1
broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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2
turnips
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| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
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3
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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4
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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5
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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6
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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7
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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8
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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9
rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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10
pretension
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| n.要求；自命，自称；自负 | |
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11
ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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12
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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13
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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14
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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15
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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16
antagonists
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| 对立[对抗] 者，对手，敌手( antagonist的名词复数 )； 对抗肌； 对抗药 | |
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17
spoke
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| 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 | |
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18
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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19
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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20
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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21
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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22
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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23
vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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24
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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25
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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26
rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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27
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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28
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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29
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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30
auld
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| adj.老的，旧的 | |
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31
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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32
uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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33
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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34
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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35
deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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36
undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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37
Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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38
postpone
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| v.延期，推迟 | |
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39
ornaments
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| 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 ) | |
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40
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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41
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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42
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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43
turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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44
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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45
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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46
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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47
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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48
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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49
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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50
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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51
conclusive
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| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
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52
perusal
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| n.细读，熟读；目测 | |
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53
repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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54
prosaic
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| adj.单调的，无趣的 | |
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55
lamentation
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| n.悲叹，哀悼 | |
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