Mr. Jiffin was in his glory. Mr. Jiffin’s house was the same. Both were in apple-pie order to receive Miss Afy Hallijohn, who was, in a very short period, indeed, to be converted into Mrs. Jiffin.
Mr. Jiffin had not seen Afy for some days—had never been able to come across her since the trial at Lynneborough. Every evening had he danced attendance at her lodgings1, but could not get admitted. “Not at home—not at home,” was the invariable answer, though Afy might be sunning herself at the window in his very sight. Mr. Jiffin, throwing off as best he could the temporary disappointment, was in an ecstasy2 of admiration3, for he set it all down to Afy’s retiring modesty4 on the approach of the nuptial5 day. “And they could try to calumniate6 her!” he indignantly replied.
But now, one afternoon, when Mr. Jiffin and his shopman, and his shop, and his wares7, were all set out to the best advantage—and very tempting8 they looked, as a whole, especially the spiced bacon—Mr. Jiffin happening to cast his eyes to the opposite side of the street, beheld9 his beloved sailing by. She was got up in the fashion. A mauve silk dress with eighteen flounces, and about eighteen hundred steel buttons that glittered your sight away; a “zouave” jacket worked with gold; a black turban perched on the top of her skull10, garnished11 in front with what court milliners are pleased to term a “plume12 de coq,” but which, by its size and height, might have been taken for a “coq” himself, while a white ostrich13 feather was carried round and did duty behind, and a spangled hair net hung down to her waist. Gloriously grand was Afy that day and if I had but a photographing machine at hand—or whatever may be the scientific name of the thing—you should certainly have been regaled with the sight of her. Joyce would have gone down in a fit had she encountered her by an unhappy chance. Mr. Jiffin, dashing his apron14 anywhere, tore across.
“Oh, it is you!” said Afy, freezingly, when compelled to acknowledge him, but his offered hand she utterly15 repudiated16. “Really, Mr. Jiffin, I should feel obliged if you would not come out to me in this offensive and public manner.”
Mr. Jiffin grew cold. “Offensive! Not come out?” gasped17 he. “I do trust I have not been so unfortunate as to offend you, Miss Afy!”
“Well—you see,” said Afy, calling up all her impudence18 to say what she had made up her mind to say, “I have been considering it well over, Jiffin, and I find that to carry out the marriage will not be for my—for our happiness. I intended to write to inform you of this; but I shall be spared the trouble—as you have come out to me.”
The perspiration19, cold as ice, began to pour off Mr. Jiffin in his agony and horror. You might have wrung20 every thread he had on. “You—don’t mean—to—imply—that—you—give—me—up—Miss—Afy?” he jerked out, unevenly21.
“Well, yes, I do,” replied Afy. “It’s as good to be plain, and then there can be no misapprehension. I’ll shake hands now with you, Jiffin, for the last time; and I am very sorry that we both made such a mistake.”
Poor Jiffin looked at her. His gaze would have melted a heart of stone. “Miss Afy, you can’t mean it! You’d never, sure, crush a fellow in this manner, whose whole soul is yours; who trusted you entirely22? There’s not an earthly thing I would not do to please you. You have been the light of my existence.”
“Of course,” returned Afy, with a lofty and indifferent air, as if to be “the light of his existence” was only her due. “But it’s all done and over. It is not at all a settlement that will suit me, you see, Jiffin. A butter and bacon factor is so very—so very—what I have not been accustomed to! And then, those aprons23! I never could get reconciled to them.”
“I’ll discard the aprons altogether,” cried he, in a fever. “I’ll get a second shopman, and buy a little gig, and do nothing but drive you out. I’ll do anything if you will but have me still, Miss Afy. I have bought the ring, you know.”
“Your intentions are very kind,” was the distant answer, “but it’s a thing impossible; my mind is fully24 made up. So farewell for good, Jiffin; and I wish you better luck in your next venture.”
Afy, lifting her capacious dress, for the streets had just been watered, minced26 off. And Mr. Joe Jiffin, wiping his wet face as he gazed after her, instantly wished that he could be nailed up in one of his pickled pork barrels, and so be out of his misery27.
“That’s done with, thank goodness,” soliloquized Afy. “Have him, indeed. After what Richard let out on the trial. As if I should look after anybody less than Dick Hare! I shall get him, too. I always knew Dick Hare loved me above everything on earth; and he does still, or he’d never had said what he did in open court. ‘It’s better to be born lucky than rich.’ Won’t West Lynne envy me! Mrs. Richard Hare of the Grove28. Old Hare is on his last legs, and then Dick comes into his own. Mrs. Hare must have her jointure house elsewhere, for we shall want the Grove for ourselves. I wonder if Madame Barbara will condescend29 to recognize me. And that blessed Corny? I shall be a sort of cousin of Corny’s then. I wonder how much Dick comes into—three or four thousand a year? And to think that I had nearly escaped this by tying myself to that ape of a Jiffin! What sharks do get in our unsuspecting paths in this world!”
On went Afy, through West Lynne, till she arrived close to Mr. Justice Hare’s. Then she paced slowly. It had been a frequent walk of hers since the trial. Luck favored her today. As she was passing the gate, young Richard Hare came up from the direction of East Lynne. It was the first time Afy had obtained speech of him.
“Good day, Richard. Why! you were never going to pass an old friend?”
“I have so many friends,” said Richard, “I can scarcely spare time for them individually.”
“But you might for me. Have you forgotten old days?” continued she, bridling30 and flirting31, and altogether showing herself off to advantage.
“No, I have not,” replied Richard. “And I am not likely to do so,” he pointedly32 added.
“Ah, I felt sure of that. My heart told me so. When you went off, that dreadful night, leaving me to anguish33 and suspense34, I thought I should have died. I never have had, so to say, a happy moment until this, when I meet you again.”
“Don’t be a fool, Afy!” was Richard’s gallant35 rejoinder, borrowing the favorite reproach of Miss Carlyle. “I was young and green once; you don’t suppose I have remained so. We will drop the past, if you please. How is Mr. Jiffin?”
“Oh, the wretch36!” shrieked37 Afy. “Is it possible that you can have fallen into the popular scandal that I have anything to say to him? You know I’d never demean myself to it. That’s West Lynne all over! Nothing but inventions in it from week’s end to week’s end. A man who sells cheese! Who cuts up bacon! Well, I am surprised at you, Mr. Richard!”
“I have been thinking what luck you were in to get him,” said Richard, with composure. “But it is your business not mine.”
“Could you bear to see me stooping to him?” returned Afy, dropping her voice to the most insinuating38 whisper.
“Look you, Afy. What ridiculous folly39 you are nursing in your head I don’t trouble myself to guess, but, the sooner you get it out again the better. I was an idiot once, I don’t deny it; but you cured me of that, and cured me with a vengeance40. You must pardon me for intimating that from henceforth we are strangers; in the street as elsewhere. I have resumed my own standing42 again, which I periled43 when I ran after you.”
Afy turned faint. “How can you speak those cruel words?” gasped she.
“You have called them forth41. I was told yesterday that Afy Hallijohn, dressed up to a caricature, was looking after me again. It won’t do, Afy.”
“Oh-o-o-oh!” sobbed44 Afy, growing hysterical45, “and is this to be all my recompense for the years I have spent pining after you, keeping single for your sake!”
“Recompense! Oh, if you want that, I’ll get my mother to give Jiffin her custom.” And with a ringing laugh, which, though it had nothing of malice46 in it, showed Afy that he took her reproach for what it was worth, Richard turned in at his own gate.
It was a deathblow to Afy’s vanity. The worst it had ever received; and she took a few minutes to compose herself, and smooth her ruffled47 feathers. Then she turned and sailed back toward Mr. Jiffin’s, her turban up in the skies and the plume de coq tossing to the admiration of all beholders, especially of Miss Carlyle, who had the gratification of surveying her from her window. Arrived at Mr. Jiffin’s, she was taken ill exactly opposite his door, and staggered into the shop in a most exhausted48 state.
Round the counter flew Mr. Jiffin, leaving the shopman staring behind it. What was the matter? What could he do for her?
“Faint—heat of the sun—walked too fast—allowed to sit down for five minutes!” gasped Afy, in disjointed sentences.
Mr. Jiffin tenderly conducted her through the shop to his parlor49. Afy cast half an eye round, saw how comfortable were its arrangements, and her symptoms of faintness increased. Gasps50 and hysterical sobs51 came forth together. Mr. Jiffin was as one upon spikes52.
“She’d recover better there than in the public shop—if she’d only excuse his bringing her in, and consent to stop for a few minutes. No harm could come to her, and West Lynne could never say it. He’d stand at the far end of the room, right away from her; he’d prop53 open the two doors and the windows; he’d call in the maid—anything she thought right. Should he get her a glass of wine?”
Afy declined the wine by a gesture, and sat fanning herself. Mr. Jiffin looking on from a respectful distance. Gradually she grew composed—grew herself again. As she gained courage, Mr. Jiffin lost it, and he ventured upon some faint words of reproach, of him.
Afy burst into a laugh. “Did I not do it well?” she exclaimed. “I thought I’d play off a joke upon you, so I came out this afternoon and did it.”
Mr. Jiffin clasped his hands. “Was it a joke” he returned, trembling with agitation54, uncertain whether he was in paradise or not. “Are you still ready to let me call you mine?”
“Of course it was a joke,” said Afy. “What a soft you must have been, Mr. Jiffin, not to see through it! When young ladies engage themselves to be married, you can’t suppose they run back from it, close upon the wedding-day?”
“Oh, Miss Afy!” And the poor little man actually burst into delicious tears, as he caught hold of Afy’s hand and kissed it.
“A great green donkey!” thought Afy to herself, bending on him, however the sweetest smile.
Rather. But Mr. Jiffin is not the only great donkey in the world.
Richard Hare, meanwhile, had entered his mother’s presence. She was sitting at the open window, the justice opposite to her, in an invalid55 chair, basking56 in the air and the sun. This last attack of the justice’s had affected57 the mind more than the body. He was brought down to the sitting-room58 that day for the first time; but, of his mind, there was little hope. It was in a state of half imbecility; the most wonderful characteristic being, that all its self-will, its surliness had gone. Almost as a little child in tractability59, was Justice Hare.
Richard came up to his mother, and kissed her. He had been to East Lynne. Mrs. Hare took his hand and fondly held it. The change in her was wonderful; she was a young and happy woman again.
“Barbara has decided60 to go to the seaside, mother. Mr. Carlyle takes her on Monday.”
“I am glad, my dear, it will be sure to go her good. Richard”—bending over to her husband, but still retaining her son’s hand—“Barbara has agreed to go to the seaside, I will set her up.”
“Ay, ay,” nodded the justice, “set her up. Seaside? Can’t we go?”
“Certainly, dear, if you wish it; when you shall be a little stronger.”
“Ay, ay,” nodded the justice again. It was his usual answer now. “Stronger. Where’s Barbara?”
“She goes on Monday, sir,” said Richard, likewise bending his head. “Only for a fortnight. But they talk of going again later in the autumn.”
“Can’t I go, too?” repeated the justice, looking pleadingly in Richard’s face.
“You shall, dear father. Who knows but a month or two’s bracing61 would bring you quite round again? We might go all together, ourselves and the Carlyles. Anne comes to stay with us next week, you know, and we might go when her visit is over.”
“Aye, all go together. Anne’s coming?”
“Have you forgotten, dear Richard? She comes to stay a month with us, and Mr. Clitheroe and the children. I am so pleased she will find you better,” added Mrs. Hare, her gentle eyes filling. “Mr. Wainwright says you may go out for a drive tomorrow.”
“And I’ll be coachman,” laughed Richard. “It will be the old times come round again. Do you remember, father, my breaking the pole, one moonlight night, and your not letting me drive for six months afterwards?”
The poor justice laughed in answer to Richard, laughed till the tears ran down his face, probably not knowing in the least what he was laughing at.
“Richard,” said Mrs. Hare to her son, almost in an apprehensive62 tone, her hand pressing his nervously63, “was not that Afy Hallijohn I saw you speaking with at the gate?”
“Did you? What a spectacle she had made of herself! I wonder she is not ashamed to go through the streets in such a guise64! Indeed, I wonder she shows herself at all.”
“Richard, you—you—will not be drawn65 in again?” were the next whispered words.
“Mother!” There was a sternness in his mild blue eyes as he cast them upon his mother. Those beautiful eyes—the very counterpart of Barbara’s, both his and hers the counterpart of Mrs. Hare’s. The look had been sufficient refutation without words.
“Mother mine, I am going to belong to you in the future, and to nobody else. West Lynne is already busy for me, I understand, pleasantly carving66 out my destiny. One marvels67 whether I shall lose myself with Miss Afy; another, that I shall set on offhand68, and court Louisa Dobede. They are all wrong; my place will be with my darling mother,—at least, for several years to come.”
She clasped his hand to her bosom69 in her glad delight.
“We want happiness together, mother, to enable us to forget the past; for upon none did the blow fall, as upon you and upon me. And the happiness we shall find, in our own home, living for each other, and striving to amuse my poor father.”
“Aye, aye,” complacently70 put in Justice Hare.
So it would be. Richard had returned to his home, had become, to all intent and purposes, its master; for the justice would never be in a state to hold sway again. He had resumed his position; and regained71 the favor of West Lynne, which, always in extremes, was now wanting to kill him with kindness. A happy, happy home from henceforth; and Mrs. Hare lifted up her full heart in thankfulness to God. Perhaps Richard’s went up also.
One word touching72 that wretched prisoner in the condemned73 cell at Lynneborough. As you must have anticipated, the extreme sentence was not carried out. And, little favorite as Sir Francis is with you and with me, we can but admit that justice did not demand that it should be. That he had willfully killed Hallijohn, was certain; but the act was committed in a moment of wild rage; it had not been premeditated. The sentence was commuted74 to transportation. A far more disgraceful one in the estimation of Sir Francis; a far more unwelcome one in the eyes of his wife. It is no use to mince25 the truth, one little grain of comfort had penetrated75 to Lady Levison; the anticipation76 of the time when she and her ill-fated child should be alone, and could hide themselves in some hidden nook of the wide world; he, and his crime, and his end gone; forgotten. But it seems he was not to go and be forgotten; she and the boy must be tied to him still; and she was lost in horror and rebellion.
He envied the dead Hallijohn, did that man, as he looked forth on the future. A cheering prospect77 truly! The gay Sir Francis Levison working in chains with his gang! Where would his diamonds and his perfumed handkerchiefs and his white hands be then? After a time he might get a ticket-of-leave. He groaned78 in agony as the turnkey suggested it to him. A ticket-of-leave for him! Oh, why did they not hang him? he wailed79 forth as he closed his eyes to the dim light. The light of the cell, you understand; he could not close them to the light of the future. No; never again; it shone out all too plainly, dazzling his brain as with a flame of living fire.
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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nuptial
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| adj.婚姻的，婚礼的 | |
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calumniate
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| v.诬蔑，中伤 | |
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wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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garnished
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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ostrich
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| n.鸵鸟 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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repudiated
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| v.（正式地）否认( repudiate的过去式和过去分词 )；拒绝接受；拒绝与…往来；拒不履行（法律义务） | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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unevenly
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| adv.不均匀的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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mince
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| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
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minced
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| v.切碎( mince的过去式和过去分词 )；剁碎；绞碎；用绞肉机绞（食物，尤指肉） | |
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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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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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bridling
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的现在分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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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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periled
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| 置…于危险中（peril的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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spikes
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| n.穗( spike的名词复数 )；跑鞋；（防滑）鞋钉；尖状物v.加烈酒于( spike的第三人称单数 )；偷偷地给某人的饮料加入（更多）酒精（ 或药物）；把尖状物钉入；打乱某人的计划 | |
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prop
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| vt.支撑；n.支柱，支撑物；支持者，靠山 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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tractability
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| 温顺，易处理，易加工的东西 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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marvels
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| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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commuted
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| 通勤( commute的过去式和过去分词 )； 减（刑）； 代偿 | |
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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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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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