"She's well," he said to the doctor, "but she doesn't get strong."
"She wants iron," said the doctor; and he gave her iron, but it did not improve her. Then the doctor said that the child wanted fresh air.
"Can I get it in bottles?" asked Seth, with melancholy3 humour.
The doctor smiled and walked away.
Seth Dumbrick was afraid to mention the matter to the Duchess, for he knew that she would leap for joy at the prospect4, and that the hope deferred5 would make her worse both in body and spirits. The truth was, he was too poor for the luxury. The Duchess's illness had exhausted6 every penny of his savings7. He confided8 in Sally, who entered at once upon the consideration of the difficulty, but her suggestions were not of a practical character.
"If we had some o' them cherubims o' gold," she mused9, "or some o' them gold flowers out of the Temple----"
"They might lead us," added Seth, "to the real flowers we want to see growing."
Sally was ready with another suggestion, in the shape of a subscription10 among the Duchess's playmates.
"They're so fond on her that they'll do anythink for her. They'll all give. Betsy Newbiggin, and Jane Preedy----" but she was stopped by the look of suppressed merriment on Seth's face.
"Pins and spoonfuls of liquorice-water won't take us into the country, Sally. No, we must think of something else. Perhaps I shall have a bit of good luck"--adding, under his breath--"if I do, and there's money in it, it'll be the first bit of good luck that has ever fell to Seth Dumbrick's lot."
There seemed no way out of the difficulty, and the Duchess remained in the same languid state. But the bit of good luck that Seth had not the slightest expectation of meeting with did occur, and in a strange way.
The duties of the postman in Rosemary Lane were light, and there were persons in the neighbourhood who had never arrived at the dignity of receiving a letter. Certainly no child had ever received one. General astonishment11 was therefore created when it became known that the postman, stopping to deliver a communication at the Royal George, the celebrated12 gin-palace of the locality, had produced a letter, addressed to "The Duchess of Rosemary Lane," and, with an air which proclaimed that he looked upon the matter as a joke, had asked the proprietor13 of the gin-palace if he knew any person answering to that description. Regarding the matter in a more serious light when he was informed that there really was such a person in existence, the postman proceeded to Seth Dumbrick's stall, and delivered the letter in the presence of a dozen or so curiousmongers, who had became aware of the circumstance, and considered it sufficiently14 interesting to warrant an inquiry15. The postman, with a stern sense of duty, did not part with the letter too easily. It was a Government affair, he said, and he might be called over the coals for it. Indeed, under any circumstances, he declared his intention of making a special memorandum16 with reference to it, for his own satisfaction and that of the head of his department. The idea of a duchess in Rosemary Lane was something almost too astounding17 for credibility.
"Nevertheless it is a fact," said Seth Dumbrick, looking at the letter with much inward astonishment; not knowing what the letter might contain, he deemed it prudent18 to conceal19 any exhibition of this feeling. "She lives with me."
"If you're her father, I suppose you call yourself a duke."
"I'm her guardian20, and I call myself a cobbler."
The postman was aware that such a conversation was outside the scope of his duties, but he was fond of gossip and banter21.
"I'd like to see this Duchess."
"Duchess!" called Seth, down the stairs.
Up came the Duchess, accompanied by Sally.
"What's your name?" asked the postman.
"The Duchess of Rosemary Lane," replied the Duchess.
"And upon my word," remarked the postman, "she looks like a little lady." He could not help admiring her; he had a little girl of his own at home.
"She is one," said Sally, promptly22.
The postman having departed, Seth, with the letter on his leather apron23, fell into a brown study. It had suddenly occurred to him that it might contain unwelcome intelligence; perhaps it came from some person who claimed the child. In that case, would it not be better for him to destroy it without reading it? Sally, aware from the expression on Seth's face--a book in which she was by this time deeply read--that he was revolving24 an important consideration with reference to the letter, was in a fever of excitement. So, in a less degree, were the neighbours surrounding the stall.
"Open it, Mr. Dumbrick," said Mrs. Preedy, who was always one in a Rosemary Lane crowd. There are in every neighbourhood two or three women ordained25 to fulfil this special mission. "Open it, and let's know what's inside."
Seth, recalled to himself by this polite request, looked up with shrewd twinkles, and replied:
"Sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. Preedy, but this is a private matter between the Duchess and the Queen, and to let you into the secret'd be more than my head's worth. Let's go downstairs, Duchess, and see what her Majesty26 has to say to you."
"He's the selfishest man," said Mrs. Preedy, "is that Mr. Dumbrick, as ever I clapped eyes on--keeping things to hisself in that way! It's a good job he ain't married; he'd torment27 the soul out of a poor woman."
Meanwhile, this selfishest of men was sitting in his cellar, with the Duchess on his knee.
"Duchess," he said, in a tone which denoted that he wished to engage her serious attention, "this is a most unexpected and mysterious occurrence. Since I've been in Rosemary Lane, I've received altogether three letters--about one every ten years--and here you are at your age beginning to bother the Post Office. You're commencing early, Duchess."
The Duchess nodded languidly. The letter, not being something nice to eat, was of no interest to her.
"The question is," continued Seth, who seemed to have lost for the time his decision of character, "what is in this letter, and who sent it? It's a good handwriting, and there can't be any mistake about its being for you."
"Open it, Daddy," said Sally.
"There's no hurry, Sally. Don't let us meet trouble halfway28. Duchess, do you love Daddy Dumbrick?"
"Oh, yes," sighed the Duchess, closing her eyes, and leaning back in Seth's arms.
"You don't want to leave him?"
"No," murmured the Duchess.
"Because you see, Sally, the world'd seem a different place to me, not half so good as it was, if anything was to occur as'd take the Duchess away from us."
"No one shall," cried Sally, beginning to share Seth's fears, "no one can!"
"I don't know that," said Seth, with an apprehensive29 observance of the letter; "they sha'n't if I can help it. If I had plenty of money, which I haven't, you, me, and the Duchess'd steal away one night from Rosemary Lane, and'd go and live in the country, where nobody'd know us, and where we could see green fields and flowers, and breathe the fresh air from morning to night. For that's what our precious wants. Green fields and fresh air'd soon pull her round, and we'd live there happily all our lives."
"Like gipsies, Daddy."
"Yes, Sal, like gipsies."
"That would be nice," said Sally; adding wistfully, "but it can't be, Daddy, can it?"
"No, it can't be, unless a shower of gold was to come down through the ceiling--and that's not likely. Let's see what's in the letter."
Had he suspected it to contain gunpowder30 he could not have broken the seal more timidly. It was a letter without an envelope, folded in the old-fashioned way, and when it was opened, a thin paper enclosure fluttered to the ground. In his anxiety Seth did not notice what had escaped, and he turned the letter this way and that, without meeting with any writing but the address. Singular as it was, he experienced a feeling of relief at this dispersal of his fears.
"Here's something dropped, Daddy," said Sally, in a tone made almost gay by the change of expression in Seth's countenance31.
Seth took the enclosure from Sally's hands. It was a Bank of England note for ten pounds.
"Why, it's money!" he exclaimed.
"Money!" cried Sally.
"Yes, Sally, money." He glanced up at the ceiling with an air of comical wonder. "We're in Tom Tiddler's ground, Sally."
"No, no," cried Sally, clapping her hands in glee, "it didn't drop from there. It dropped out of the letter."
"That's more wonderful, then, than all the rest put together. Out of the letter! There's not a letter in the letter, Sal--not one, from A to Z." He laughed aloud, and Sally laughed in sympathy. "I don't care where this comes from, nor why it has come. What I know is, it's the brightest bit of good luck that ever happened to a man. This piece of paper's a looking-glass, my child. Look at it--what do you see in it?"
Literal Sally, looking at the bank-note, as Seth held it open before her, began at the beginning.
"There's a picture of a lady with a wand in her hand----"
"Britannia ruling the waves. Is that all you can see in it?"
"No; there's--what funny letters, Daddy! I never saw any like 'em before. There's B-a-n-k, Bank----"
Seth took up the word, and read the note from beginning to end, and then repeated his question, "Is that a l you can see in it?"
"That's all, Daddy."
"Sally, I'm cleverer than you. I take the note, and put it before me like this---- Stop a minute." The Duchess had fallen asleep in his arms, and he placed her gently on the bed. "Now we can get along. I look at the note like this, and I see--yes, I see a coach, with you and me and the Duchess sitting on the top of it."
"O Daddy!"
"Here we go, driving into the country. Such a ride, Sally! I see green fields and flowers and fresh air for our darling in it----"
It was with difficulty that Sally kept herself still to hear the rest.
"I see two weeks of green fields and fresh air for our darling in it. And I'm not quite sure that I don't see the sea. Do I see the waves creeping up, Sally?"
"I don't know--oh, do you see 'em, Daddy, do you?"
"It's got a little bit cloudy about here"--tracing an imaginary line with his finger--"but it'll clear up soon. And, Sally, I see something still better in it. I see roses for our Duchess's cheeks in it, sparkles for her eyes, lightness for her foot. Kiss the note, Sally. I never thought I should come to worship Mammon, but I do worship him now, with all my heart."
"Daddy," said Sally, struck with a sudden fear, "is it a good un?"
The alarming suggestion caused Seth to run out of the place, as though he were running for his life, and this display of excitement on his part was so novel that the neighbours who were still waiting in the street for news concerning the letter came, first to the usual conclusion that the house was on fire, and next to the more appetising one that Seth Dumbrick had suddenly gone mad. He was a long time absent, for it was no easy matter to get a ten-pound note changed in Rosemary Lane. There were hundreds who had never seen such a thing, and to whom a sight of it would have been an eighth wonder of the world. At the end of an hour Seth returned in a calmer mood, with a fistful of gold, which he let fall, piece by piece, on the table, before Sally's wondering eyes. She, who never experienced a pleasure, new or old, without desiring that her idol32 should share it, caught up the Duchess, crying: "Look, Duchess, look!" The Duchess stretched forth33 her hand with eager delight, and the children sat close to the table, playing gleefully with the bright pieces, Seth standing34 at their back, looking at them and at the gold, with one hand resting on the Duchess's shoulder, and the other rasping his chin. His declaration that he did not care where the money came from was not ingenious. If he had wished, he could not have banished35 so singular an adventure from his mind, and the more he thought of it the more it puzzled him. He had no friend who was likely or able to commit an action so quixotic; neither had Sally. Turning his attention to the letter again, he held it up to the light and peered closely at it, in the endeavour to discover a clue. Then it came into his mind that there was a kind of colourless ink with which persons wishing to communicate secretly could write, and which heat alone would render visible, and he placed the paper to the fire without arriving at any satisfactory result. He could not detect even the scratch of a pen. It was the most unsolvable of riddles36. "I am afraid I must give it up," he said to himself, but he could not give it up. With the subject still in his mind, he ascended37 to his stall to finish some work he had in hand before he started on the contemplated38 holiday. During his work, a hundred ingenious theories started up, all to be dismissed but one, which took strong possession of him. "Some rich person," he thought, "perhaps a lady who once had a pretty child, that she was ashamed to call her own, has seen the Duchess by chance, and has fallen in love with her beautiful face, because it reminds her of old days. Then she finds out the Duchess's name; then she discovers that the Duchess has been ill; and then she sends a present of money in this mysterious way." The sentiment attaching to this fanciful speculation39 rendered it peculiarly attractive to Seth. "We'll put it down to that," he mused; "stranger things have happened in the world." So he put it down to "that," and produced some pleasant mental pictures out of the fancy.
When the midday meal was over, he said, "Duchess, this money's for you. It's been sent because you've got a pretty face, and pretty hands, and bright eyes. And it's going to take us into the country, where the flowers are all a-growing and a-blowing, and where you'll get strong and lively again."
"Then it will come true," cried Sally, "what you saw in the ten-pound note!"
"It will come true, Sally, if we're alive to-morrow." An ecstatic silence followed, broken by Sally.
"Then you know who sent the money, Daddy!"
"It was sent by a lady--as handsome a lady as ever you clapped eyes on, Sally."
"And you've seen her?"
"Well--hum!--yes, I've seen her." And here Seth rubbed his forehead, denoting that he meant he had seen her in his mind's eye--a salve to his conscience.
"Where does she live?" asked Sally, whom it was difficult to stop, when she commenced to make inquiries40 on an interesting theme.
"She lives in--hum!--in Fairyland."
"Oh, where's that?"
"Don't ask any more questions. You'll see a bit of it to-morrow."
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1
elasticity
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| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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3
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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4
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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5
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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6
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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7
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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8
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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9
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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10
subscription
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| n.预订，预订费，亲笔签名，调配法，下标（处方） | |
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11
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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12
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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13
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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14
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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15
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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16
memorandum
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| n.备忘录，便笺 | |
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17
astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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18
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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19
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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20
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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21
banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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22
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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24
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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25
ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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26
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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27
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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28
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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29
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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30
gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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31
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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32
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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33
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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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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35
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
riddles
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| n.谜（语）( riddle的名词复数 )；猜不透的难题，难解之谜 | |
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37
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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39
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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40
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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