“There is only one thing I want to know,” she said to him, in a manner which might have seemed casual if in her silence, knowing her as well as he did, he had not already perceived the implication of her thought. “Does she expect you to marry her, dearest?”
“Does who expect me? I should like to see the woman who does!”
“Of course you know who I mean. The one that came after you – and picked you right up – from the other end of London.” And at the remembrance of that insufferable scene poor Pinnie flamed up for a moment. “Isn’t there plenty of young fellows down in that low part where she lives, without her ravaging23 over here? Why can’t she stick to her own beat, I should like to know?” Hyacinth had flushed at this inquiry, and she saw something in his face which made her change her tone. “Just promise me this, my precious child: that if you get into any sort of mess with that piece you’ll immediately confide24 it to your poor old Pinnie.”
“My poor old Pinnie sometimes makes me quite sick,” Hyacinth remarked, for answer. “What sort of a mess do you suppose I’ll get into?”
“Well, suppose she does come it over you that you promised to marry her?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. She doesn’t want to marry any one to-day.”
“Then what does she want to do?”
“Do you imagine I would tell a lady’s secrets?” the young man inquired.
“Dear me, if she was a lady, I shouldn’t be afraid!” said Pinnie.
“Every woman’s a lady when she has placed herself under one’s protection,” Hyacinth rejoined, with his little manner of a man of the world.
“Under your protection? Laws!” cried Pinnie, staring. “And pray, who’s to protect you?”
As soon as she had said this she repented25, because it seemed just the sort of exclamation26 that would have made Hyacinth bite her head off. One of the things she loved him for, however, was that he gave you touching27 surprises in this line, had sudden inconsistencies of temper that were all for your advantage. He was by no means always mild when he ought to have been, but he was sometimes so when there was no obligation. At such moments Pinnie wanted to kiss him, and she had often tried to make Mr Vetch understand what a fascinating trait of character this was on the part of their young friend. It was rather difficult to describe, and Mr Vetch never would admit that he understood, or that he had observed anything that seemed to correspond to the dressmaker’s somewhat confused psychological sketch28. It was a comfort to her in these days, and almost the only one she had, that she was sure Anastasius Vetch understood a good deal more than he felt bound to acknowledge. He was always up to his old game of being a great deal cleverer than cleverness itself required; and it consoled her present weak, pinched feeling to know that, although he still talked of the boy as if it would be a pity to take him too seriously, that wasn’t the way he thought of him. He also took him seriously, and he had even a certain sense of duty in regard to him. Miss Pynsent went so far as to say to herself that the fiddler probably had savings29, and that no one had ever known of any one else belonging to him. She wouldn’t have mentioned it to Hyacinth for the world, for fear of leading up to a disappointment; but she had visions of a foolscap sheet, folded away in some queer little bachelor’s box (she couldn’t fancy what men kept in such places), on which Hyacinth’s name would have been written down, in very big letters, before a solicitor30.
“Oh, I’m unprotected, in the nature of things,” he replied, smiling at his too scrupulous31 companion. Then he added, “At any rate, it isn’t from that girl any danger will come to me.”
“I can’t think why you like her,” Pinnie remarked, as if she had spent on the subject treasures of impartiality32.
“It’s jolly to hear one woman on the subject of another,” Hyacinth said. “You’re kind and good, and yet you’re ready —” He gave a philosophic33 sigh.
“Well, what am I ready to do? I’m not ready to see you gobbled up before my eyes!”
“You needn’t be afraid; she won’t drag me to the altar.”
“And pray, doesn’t she think you good enough – for one of the beautiful Hennings?”
“You don’t understand, my poor Pinnie,” said Hyacinth, wearily. “I sometimes think there isn’t a single thing in life that you understand. One of these days she’ll marry an alderman.”
“An alderman – that creature?”
“An alderman, or a banker, or a bishop34, or some one of that kind. She doesn’t want to end her career to-day; she wants to begin it.”
“Well, I wish she would take you later!” the dressmaker exclaimed.
Hyacinth said nothing for a moment; then he broke out: “What are you afraid of? Look here, we had better clear this up, once for all. Are you afraid of my marrying a girl out of a shop?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t, would you?” cried Pinnie, with a kind of conciliatory eagerness. “That’s the way I like to hear you talk!”
“Do you think I would marry any one who would marry me?” Hyacinth went on. “The kind of girl who would look at me is the kind of girl I wouldn’t look at.” He struck Pinnie as having thought it all out; which did not surprise her, as she had been familiar, from his youth, with his way of following things up. But she was always delighted when he made a remark which showed he was conscious of being of fine clay – flashed out an allusion35 to his not being what he seemed. He was not what he seemed, but even with Pinnie’s valuable assistance he had not succeeded in representing to himself, very definitely, what he was. She had placed at his disposal, for this purpose, a passionate36 idealism which, employed in some case where it could have consequences, might have been termed profligate37, and which never cost her a scruple38 or a compunction.
“I’m sure a princess might look at you and be none the worse!” she declared, in her delight at this assurance, more positive than any she had yet received, that he was safe from the worst danger. This the dressmaker considered to be the chance of his marrying some person like herself. Still it came over her that his taste might be lowered, and before the subject was dropped, on this occasion, she said to him that of course he must be quite aware of all that was wanting to such a girl as Millicent Henning – she pronounced her name at last.
“Oh, I don’t bother about what’s wanting to her; I’m content with what she has.”
“Content, dearest – how do you mean?” the little dressmaker quavered. “Content to make an intimate friend of her?”
“It is impossible I should discuss these matters with you,” Hyacinth replied, grandly.
“Of course I see that. But I should think she would bore you sometimes,” Miss Pynsent murmured, cunningly.
“She does, I assure you, to extinction39!”
“Then why do you spend every evening with her?”
“Where should you like me to spend my evenings? At some beastly public-house – or at the Italian opera?” His association with Miss Henning was not so close as that, but nevertheless he wouldn’t take the trouble to prove to poor Pinnie that he enjoyed her society only two or three times a week; that on other evenings he simply strolled about the streets (this boyish habit clung to him), and that he had even occasionally the resource of going to the Poupins’, or of gossiping and smoking a pipe at some open house-door, when the night was not cold, with a fellow-mechanic. Later in the winter, after he had made Paul Muniment’s acquaintance, the aspect of his life changed considerably40, though Millicent continued to be exceedingly mixed up with it. He hated the taste of liquor and still more the taste of the places where it was sold; besides which the types of misery41 and vice42 that one was liable to see collected in them frightened and harrowed him, made him ask himself questions that pierced the deeper because they were met by no answer. It was both a blessing43 and a drawback to him that the delicate, charming character of the work he did at Mr Crookenden’s, under Eustache Poupin’s influence, was a kind of education of the taste, trained him in the finest discriminations, in the perception of beauty and the hatred44 of ugliness. This made the brutal45, garish46, stodgy47 decoration of public-houses, with their deluge48 of gaslight, their glittering brass49 and pewter, their lumpish woodwork and false colours, detestable to him; he was still very young when the ‘gin-palace’ ceased to convey to him an idea of the palatial50.
For this unfortunate but remarkably51 organised youth, every displeasure or gratification of the visual sense coloured his whole mind, and though he lived in Pentonville and worked in Soho, though he was poor and obscure and cramped52 and full of unattainable desires, it may be said of him that what was most important in life for him was simply his impressions. They came from everything he touched, they kept him thrilling and throbbing53 during a considerable part of his waking consciousness, and they constituted, as yet, the principal events and stages of his career. Fortunately, they were sometimes very delightful54. Everything in the field of observation suggested this or that; everything struck him, penetrated55, stirred; he had, in a word, more impressions than he knew what to do with – felt sometimes as if they would consume or asphyxiate56 him. He liked to talk about them, but it was only a few, here and there, that he could discuss with Millicent Henning. He let Miss Pynsent imagine that his hours of leisure were almost exclusively dedicated57 to this young lady, because, as he said to himself, if he were to account to her for every evening in the week it would make no difference – she would stick to her suspicion; and he referred this perversity58 to the general weight of misconception under which (at this crude period of his growth) he held it was his lot to languish59. It didn’t matter to one whether one were a little more or a little less misunderstood. He might have remembered that it mattered to Pinnie, who, after her first relief at hearing him express himself so properly on the subject of a matrimonial connection with Miss Henning, allowed her faded, kind, weak face, little by little, to lengthen60 out to its old solemnity. This came as the days went on, for it wasn’t much comfort that he didn’t want to marry the young woman in Pimlico, when he allowed himself to be held as tight as if he did. For the present, indeed, she simply said, “Oh, well, if you see her as she is, I don’t care what you do” – a sentiment implying a certain moral recklessness on the part of the good little dressmaker. She was irreproachable61 herself, but she had lived for more than fifty years in a world of wickedness; like an immense number of London women of her class and kind, she had acquired a certain innocent cynicism, and she judged it quite a minor62 evil that Millicent should be left lamenting63, if only Hyacinth might get out of the scrape. Between a forsaken64 maiden65 and a premature66, lowering marriage for her beloved little boy, she very well knew which she preferred. It should be added that her impression of Millicent’s power to take care of herself was such as to make it absurd to pity her in advance. Pinnie thought Hyacinth the cleverest young man in the world, but her state of mind implied somehow that the young lady in Pimlico was cleverer. Her ability, at any rate, was of a kind that precluded67 the idea of suffering, whereas Hyacinth’s was rather associated with it.
By the time he had enjoyed for three months the acquaintance of the brother and sister in Audley Court the whole complexion68 of his life seemed changed; it was pervaded69 by an interest, an excitement, which overshadowed, though it by no means supplanted70, the brilliant figure of Miss Henning. It was pitched in a higher key, altogether, and appeared to command a view of horizons equally fresh and vast. Millicent, therefore, shared her dominion71, without knowing exactly what it was that drew her old play-fellow off, and without indeed demanding of him an account which, on her own side, she was not prepared to give. Hyacinth was, in the language of the circle in which she moved, her fancy, and she was content to occupy, as regards himself, the same graceful15 and somewhat irresponsible position. She had an idea that she was a most beneficent friend: fond of him and careful of him as an elder sister might be; warning him as no one else could do against the dangers of the town; putting that stiff common sense, of which she was convinced that she possessed72 an extraordinary supply, at the service of his incurable73 verdancy74; and looking after him, generally, as no one, poor child, had ever done. Millicent made light of the little dressmaker, in this view of Hyacinth’s past (she thought Pinnie no better than a starved cat), and enjoyed herself immensely in the character of guide and philosopher, while she pushed the young man with a robust75 elbow or said to him, “Well, you are a sharp one, you are!” Her theory of herself, as we know, was that she was the sweetest girl in the world, as well as the cleverest and handsomest, and there could be no better proof of her kindness of heart than her disinterested76 affection for a snippet of a bookbinder. Her sociability77 was certainly great, and so were her vanity, her grossness, her presumption78, her appetite for beer, for buns, for entertainment of every kind. She represented, for Hyacinth, during this period, the eternal feminine, and his taste, considering that he was fastidious, will be wondered at; it will be judged that she did not represent it very favourably79.
It may easily be believed that he scrutinised his infatuation even while he gave himself up to it, and that he often wondered he should care for a girl in whom he found so much to object to. She was vulgar, clumsy and grotesquely80 ignorant; her conceit81 was proportionate, and she had not a grain of tact82 or of quick perception. And yet there was something so fine about her, to his imagination, and she carried with such an air the advantages she did possess, that her figure constantly mingled83 itself even with those bright visions that hovered84 before him after Paul Muniment had opened a mysterious window. She was bold, and free, and generous, and if she was coarse she was neither false nor cruel. She laughed with the laugh of the people, and if you hit her hard enough she would cry with its tears. When Hyacinth was not letting his imagination wander among the haunts of the aristocracy, and fancying himself stretched in the shadow of an ancestral beech85, reading the last number of the Revue des Deux Mondes, he was occupied with contemplations of a very different kind; he was absorbed in the struggles and sufferings of the millions whose life flowed in the same current as his, and who, though they constantly excited his disgust, and made him shrink and turn away, had the power to chain his sympathy, to make it glow to a kind of ecstasy86, to convince him, for the time at least, that real success in the world would be to do something with them and for them. All this, strange to say, was never so vivid to him as when he was in Millicent’s company; which is a proof of his fantastic, erratic87 way of seeing things. She had no such ideas about herself; they were almost the only ideas she didn’t have. She had no theories about redeeming88 or uplifting the people; she simply loathed89 them, because they were so dirty, with the outspoken90 violence of one who had known poverty, and the strange bedfellows it makes, in a very different degree from Hyacinth, brought up, comparatively, with Pinnie to put sugar in his tea, and keep him supplied with neckties, like a little swell91.
Millicent, to hear her talk, only wanted to keep her skirts clear and marry some respectable tea-merchant. But for our hero she was magnificently plebeian92, in the sense that implied a kind of loud recklessness of danger and the qualities that shine forth93 in a row. She summed up the sociable94, humorous, ignorant chatter95 of the masses, their capacity for offensive and defensive96 passion, their instinctive97 perception of their strength on the day they should really exercise it; and as much as any of this, their ideal of something smug and prosperous, where washed hands, and plates in rows on dressers, and stuffed birds under glass, and family photographs, would symbolise success. She was none the less plucky98 for being at bottom a shameless Philistine99, ambitious of a front-garden with rockwork; and she presented the plebeian character in none the less plastic a form. Having the history of the French Revolution at his fingers’ ends, Hyacinth could easily see her (if there should ever be barricades100 in the streets of London) with a red cap of liberty on her head and her white throat bared so that she should be able to shout the louder the Marseillaise of that hour, whatever it might be. If the festival of the Goddess of Reason should ever be enacted101 in the British metropolis102 (and Hyacinth could consider such possibilities without a smile, so much was it a part of the little religion he had to remember, always, that there was no knowing what might happen) – if this solemnity, I say, should be revived in Hyde Park, who was better designated than Miss Henning to figure in a grand statuesque manner, as the heroine of the occasion? It was plain that she had laid her inconsequent admirer under a peculiar103 spell, since he could associate her with such scenes as that while she consumed beer and buns at his expense. If she had a weakness, it was for prawns104; and she had, all winter, a plan for his taking her down to Gravesend, where this luxury was cheap and abundant, when the fine long days should arrive. She was never so frank and facetious105 as when she dwelt on the details of a project of this kind; and then Hyacinth was reminded afresh that it was an immense good fortune for her that she was handsome. If she had been ugly he couldn’t have listened to her; but her beauty glorified106 even her accent, interfused her cockney genius with prismatic hues107, gave her a large and constant impunity108.
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1
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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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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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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divested
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| 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 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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prerogative
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| n.特权 | |
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deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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circumspect
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| adj.慎重的，谨慎的 | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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15
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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askew
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| adv.斜地；adj.歪斜的 | |
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victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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ravaging
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| 毁坏( ravage的现在分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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repented
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| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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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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impartiality
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| n. 公平, 无私, 不偏 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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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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profligate
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| adj.行为不检的；n.放荡的人，浪子，肆意挥霍者 | |
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scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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42
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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43
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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45
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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46
garish
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| adj.华丽而俗气的，华而不实的 | |
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47
stodgy
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| adj.易饱的；笨重的；滞涩的；古板的 | |
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48
deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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49
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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50
palatial
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| adj.宫殿般的，宏伟的 | |
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51
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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52
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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53
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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54
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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55
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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56
asphyxiate
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| v.无法呼吸，窒息而死 | |
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57
dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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58
perversity
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| n.任性；刚愎自用 | |
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59
languish
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| vi.变得衰弱无力，失去活力，（植物等）凋萎 | |
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60
lengthen
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| vt.使伸长，延长 | |
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61
irreproachable
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| adj.不可指责的，无过失的 | |
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62
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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lamenting
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| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
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Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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precluded
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| v.阻止( preclude的过去式和过去分词 )；排除；妨碍；使…行不通 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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supplanted
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| 把…排挤掉，取代( supplant的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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incurable
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| adj.不能医治的，不能矫正的，无救的；n.不治的病人，无救的人 | |
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verdancy
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| n.幼稚；嫩绿 | |
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robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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sociability
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| n.好交际，社交性，善于交际 | |
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presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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favourably
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| adv. 善意地，赞成地 =favorably | |
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grotesquely
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| adv. 奇异地,荒诞地 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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82
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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83
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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84
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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85
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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redeeming
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| 补偿的，弥补的 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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outspoken
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| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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99
philistine
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| n.庸俗的人；adj.市侩的，庸俗的 | |
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100
barricades
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| 路障，障碍物( barricade的名词复数 ) | |
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101
enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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102
metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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103
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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104
prawns
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| n.对虾，明虾( prawn的名词复数 ) | |
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105
facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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106
glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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107
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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108
impunity
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| n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
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