I was now approaching Brandon Hall; less than ten minutes more would set me down at its door-steps. The stiff figure of Mrs. Marston, the old housekeeper1, pale and austere2, in rustling3 black silk (she was accounted a miser4, and estimated to have saved I dare not say how much money in the Wylder family — kind to me with the bread-and-jam and Naples-biscuit-kindness of her species, in old times)— stood in fancy at the doorway5. She, too, was a dream, and, I dare say, her money spent by this time. And that other dream, to which she often led me, with the large hazel eyes, and clear delicate tints6 — so sweet, so riante, yet so sad; poor Lady Mary Brandon, dying there — so unhappily mated — a young mother, and her baby sleeping in long ‘Broderie Anglaise’ attire7 upon the pillow on the sofa, and whom she used to show me with a peeping mystery, and her finger to her smiling lip, and a gaiety and fondness in her pretty face. That little helpless, groping, wailing8 creature was now the Dorcas Brandon, the mistress of the grand old mansion9 and all its surroundings, who was the heroine of the splendid matrimonial compromise which was about to reconcile a feud10, and avert11 a possible lawsuit12, and, for one generation, at least, to tranquillise the troubled annals of the Brandons and Wylders.
And now the ancient gray chapel13, with its stained window, and store of old Brandon and Wylder monuments among its solemn clump14 of elm-trees, flitted by on my right; and in a moment more we drew up at the great gate on the left; not a hundred yards removed from it, and with an eager recognition, I gazed on the noble front of the old manorial15 house.
Up the broad straight avenue with its solemn files of gigantic timber towering at the right and the left hand, the chaise rolled smoothly16, and through the fantastic iron gate of the courtyard, and with a fine swinging sweep and a jerk, we drew up handsomely before the door-steps, with the Wylder arms in bold and florid projection17 carved above it.
The sun had just gone down. The blue shadows of twilight18 overcast19 the landscape, and the mists of night were already stealing like thin smoke among the trunks and roots of the trees. Through the stone mullions of the projecting window at the right, a flush of fire-light looked pleasant and hospitable20, and on the threshold were standing21 Lord Chelford and my old friend Mark Wylder; a faint perfume of the mildest cheroot declared how they had been employed.
So I jumped to the ground and was greeted very kindly22 by the smokers23.
‘I’m here, you know, in loco parentis; — my mother and I keep watch and ward24. We allow Wylder, you see, to come every day to his devotions. But you are not to go to the Brandon Arms — you got my note, didn’t you?’
I had, and had come direct to the Hall in consequence.
I looked over the door. Yes, my memory had served me right. There were the Brandon arms, and the Brandon quartered with the Wylder; but the Wylder coat in the centre, with the grinning griffins for supporters, and flaunting25 scrolls26 all round, and the ominous27 word ‘resurgam’ underneath28, proclaimed itself sadly and vauntingly over the great entrance. I often wonder how the Wylder coat came in the centre; who built the old house — a Brandon or a Wylder; and if a Wylder, why was it Brandon Hall?
Dusty and seedy somewhat, as men are after a journey, I chatted with Mark and the noble peer for a few minutes at the door, while my valise and et ceteras were lifted in and hurried up the stairs to my room, whither I followed them.
While I was at my toilet, in came Mark Wylder laughing, as was his wont29, and very unceremoniously he took possession of my easy-chair, and threw his leg over the arm of it.
‘I’m glad you’re come, Charlie; you were always a good fellow, and I really want a hand here confoundedly. I think it will all do very nicely; but, of course, there’s a lot of things to be arranged — settlements, you know — and I can’t make head or tail of their lingo30, and a fellow don’t like to sign and seal hand over head — you would not advise that, you know; and Chelford is a very good fellow, of course, and all that — but he’s taking care of Dorcas, you see; and I might be left in the lurch31.’
‘It is a better way, at all events, Mark, than Wylder versus32 Trustees of Brandon, minor,’ said I.
‘Well, things do turn out very oddly; don’t they?’ said Mark with a sly glance of complacency, and his hands in his pockets. ‘But I know you’ll hold the tiller till I get through; hang me if I know the soundings, or where I’m going; and you have the chart by heart, Charlie.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll find me by no means so well up now as six years ago in “Wylder and Brandon;” but surely you have your lawyer, Mr. Larkin, haven’t you?’
‘To be sure — that’s exactly it — he’s Dorcas’s agent. I don’t know anything about him, and I do know you — don’t you see? A fellow doesn’t want to put himself into the hands of a stranger altogether, especially a lawyer, ha, ha! it wouldn’t pay.’
I did not half like the equivocal office which my friend Mark had prepared for me. If family squabbles were to arise, I had no fancy to mix in them; and I did not want a collision with Mr. Larkin either; and, on the whole, notwithstanding his modesty33, I thought Wylder very well able to take care of himself. There was time enough, however, to settle the point. So by this time, being splendid in French boots and white vest, and altogether perfect and refreshed, I emerged from my dressing-room, Wylder by my side.
We had to get along a dim oak-panelled passage, and into a sort of oeil-de-boeuf, with a lantern light above, from which diverged34 two other solemn corridors, and a short puzzling turn or two brought us to the head of the upper stairs. For I being a bachelor, and treated accordingly, was airily perched on the third storey.
To my mind, there is something indescribably satisfactory in the intense solidity of those old stairs and floors — no spring in the planks35, not a creak; you walk as over strata36 of stone. What clumsy grandeur37! What Cyclopean carpenters! What a prodigality38 of oak!
It was dark by this time, and the drawing-room, a vast and grand chamber39, with no light but the fire and a pair of dim soft lamps near the sofas and ottomans, lofty, and glowing with rich tapestry40 curtains and pictures, and mirrors, and carved oak, and marble — was already tenanted by the ladies.
Old Lady Chelford, stiff and rich, a Vandyke dowager, with a general effect of deep lace, funereal41 velvet42, and pearls; and pale, with dreary43 eyes, and thin high nose, sat in a high-backed carved oak throne, with red cushions. To her I was first presented, and cursorily44 scrutinised with a stately old-fashioned insolence45, as if I were a candidate footman, and so dismissed. On a low seat, chatting to her as I came up, was a very handsome and rather singular-looking girl, fair, with a light golden-tinted46 hair; and a countenance47, though then grave enough, instinct with a certain promise of animation48 and spirit not to be mistaken. Could this be the heroine of the pending49 alliance? No; I was mistaken. A third lady, at what would have been an ordinary room’s length away, half reclining on an ottoman, was now approached by Wylder, who presented me to Miss Brandon.
‘Dorcas, this is my old friend, Charles de Cresseron. You have often heard me speak of him; and I want you to shake hands and make his acquaintance, and draw him out — do you see; for he’s a shy youth, and must be encouraged.’
He gave me a cheerful slap on the shoulder as he uttered this agreeable bit of banter50, and altogether disconcerted me confoundedly. Wylder’s dress-coats always smelt51 of tobacco, and his talk of tar52. I was quietly incensed53 and disgusted; for in those days I was a little shy.
The lady rose, in a soft floating way; tall, black-haired — but a blackness with a dull rich shadow through it. I had only a general impression of large dusky eyes and very exquisite54 features — more delicate than the Grecian models, and with a wonderful transparency, like tinted marble; and a superb haughtiness55, quite unaffected. She held forth56 her hand, which I did little more than touch. There was a peculiarity57 in her greeting, which I felt a little overawing, without exactly discovering in what it consisted; and it was I think that she did not smile. She never took that trouble for form’s sake, like other women.
So, as Wylder had set a chair for me I could not avoid sitting upon it, though I should much have preferred standing, after the manner of men, and retaining my liberty.
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1
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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2
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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3
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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4
miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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5
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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6
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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7
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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8
wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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9
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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10
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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11
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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12
lawsuit
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| n.诉讼，控诉 | |
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13
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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14
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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15
manorial
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| adj.庄园的 | |
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16
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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17
projection
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| n.发射，计划，突出部分 | |
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18
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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19
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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20
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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21
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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22
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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23
smokers
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| 吸烟者( smoker的名词复数 ) | |
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24
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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25
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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26
scrolls
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| n.（常用于录写正式文件的）纸卷( scroll的名词复数 )；卷轴；涡卷形（装饰）；卷形花纹v.（电脑屏幕上）从上到下移动（资料等），卷页( scroll的第三人称单数 )；（似卷轴般）卷起；（像展开卷轴般地）将文字显示于屏幕 | |
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27
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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28
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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29
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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30
lingo
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| n.语言不知所云，外国话，隐语 | |
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31
lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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32
versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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33
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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34
diverged
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| 分开( diverge的过去式和过去分词 )； 偏离； 分歧； 分道扬镳 | |
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35
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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36
strata
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| n.地层（复数）；社会阶层 | |
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37
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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38
prodigality
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| n.浪费，挥霍 | |
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39
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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40
tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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41
funereal
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| adj.悲哀的；送葬的 | |
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42
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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43
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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44
cursorily
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| adv.粗糙地，疏忽地，马虎地 | |
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45
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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46
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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47
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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48
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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49
pending
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| prep.直到，等待…期间；adj.待定的；迫近的 | |
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50
banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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51
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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52
tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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53
incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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54
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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55
haughtiness
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| n.傲慢；傲气 | |
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56
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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57
peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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