Her gentle looks shot arrows, piercing him
As gods are pierced, with poison of sweet pity.
THE evening of the market-day had passed, and Felix had not looked in at Malthouse Yard to talk over the public events with Mr Lyon. When Esther was dressing2 the next morning, she had reached a point of irritated anxiety to see Felix, at which she found herself devising little schemes for attaining3 that end in some way that would be so elaborate as to seem perfectly4 natural. Her watch had a long-standing5 ailment6 of losing; possibly it wanted cleaning; Felix would tell her if it merely wanted regulating, whereas Mr Prowd might detain it unnecessarily, and cause her useless inconvenience. Or could she not get a valuable hint from Mrs Holt about the home-made bread, which was something as ‘sad’ as Lyddy herself? Or, if she came home that way at twelve o’clock, Felix might be going out, she might meet him, and not be obliged to call. Or — but it would be very much beneath her to take any steps of this sort. Her watch had been losing for the last two months — why should it not go on losing a little longer? She could think of no devices that were not so transparent7 as to be undignified. All the more undignified because Felix chose to live in a way that would prevent any one from classing him according to his education and mental refinement8 — ‘which certainly are very high’, said Esther inwardly, colouring, as if in answer to some contrary allegation, ‘else I should not think his opinion of any consequence’. But she came to the conclusion that she could not possibly call at Mrs Holt’s.
It followed that up to a few minutes past twelve, when she reached the turning towards Mrs Holt’s, she believed that she should go home the other way; but at the last moment there is always a reason not existing before — namely, the impossibility of further vacillation9. Esther turned the corner without any visible pause, and in another minute was knocking at Mrs Holt’s door, not without an inward flutter, which she was bent10 on disguising.
‘It’s never you, Miss Lyon! who’d have thought of seeing you at this time? Is the minister ill? I thought he looked creechy. If you want help, I’ll put my bonnet11 on.’
‘Don’t keep Miss Lyon at the door, mother; ask her to come in,’ said the ringing voice of Felix, surmounting12 various small shufflings and babbling13 voices within.
‘It’s my wish for her to come in, I’m sure,’ said Mrs Holt, making way; ‘but what is there for her to come in to? a floor worse than any public. But step in, pray, if you’re so inclined. When I’ve been forced to take my bit of carpet up, and have benches, I don’t see why I need mind nothing no more.’
‘I only came to ask Mr Holt if he would look at my watch for me,’ said Esther, entering, and blushing a general rose-colour.
‘He’ll do that fast enough,’ said Mrs Holt, with emphasis; ‘that’s one of the things he will do.’
‘Excuse my rising, Miss Lyon,’ said Felix; ‘I’m binding14 up Job’s finger.’
Job was a small fellow about five, with a germinal nose, large round blue eyes, and red hair that curled close to his head like the wool on the back of an infantine lamb. He had evidently been crying, and the corners of his mouth were still dolorous15. Felix held him on his knee as he bound and tied up very cleverly a tiny forefinger16. There was a table in front of Felix and against the window, covered with his watchmaking implements17 and some open books. Two benches stood at right angles on the sanded floor, and six or seven boys of various ages up to twelve were getting their caps and preparing to go home. They huddled18 themselves together and stood still when Esther entered. Felix could not look up till he had finished his surgery, but he went on speaking.
‘This is a hero, Miss Lyon. This is Job Tudge, a bold Briton whose finger hurts him, but who doesn’t mean to cry. Good morning, boys. Don’t lose your time. Get out into the air.’
Esther seated herself on the end of the bench near Felix, much relieved that Job was the immediate19 object of attention; and the other boys rushed out behind her with a brief chant of ‘Good morning!’
‘Did you ever see,’ said Mrs Holt, standing to look on, ‘how wonderful Felix is at that small work with his large fingers? And that’s because he learnt doctoring. It isn’t for want of cleverness he looks like a poor man, Miss Lyon. I’ve left off speaking, else I should say it’s a sin and a shame.’
‘Mother,’ said Felix, who often amused himself and kept good-humoured by giving his mother answers that were unintelligible20 to her, ‘you have an astonishing readiness in the Ciceronian antiphrasis, considering you have never studied oratory21. There, Job — thou patient man — sit still if thou wilt22; and now we can look at Miss Lyon.’
Esther had taken off her watch and was holding it in her hand. But he looked at her face, or rather at her eyes, as he said, ‘You want me to doctor your watch?’
Esther’s expression was appealing and timid, as it had never been before in Felix’s presence; but when she saw the perfect calmness, which to her seemed coldness, of his clear grey eyes, as if he saw no reason for attaching any emphasis to this first meeting, a pang23 swift as an electric shock darted24 through her. She had been very foolish to think so much of it. It seemed to her as if her inferiority to Felix made a great gulf25 between them. She could not at once rally her pride and self-command, but let her glance fall on her watch, and said, rather tremulously, ‘It loses. It is very troublesome. It has been losing a long while.’
Felix took the watch from her hand; then, looking round and seeing that his mother was gone out of the room, he said, very gently —
‘You look distressed26, Miss Lyon. I hope there is no trouble at home’ (Felix was thinking of the minister’s agitation27 on the previous Sunday). ‘But I ought perhaps to beg your pardon for saying so much.’
Poor Esther was quite helpless. The mortification28 which had come like a bruise29 to all the sensibilities that had been in keen activity, insisted on some relief. Her eyes filled instantly, and a great tear rolled down while she said in a loud sort of whisper, as involuntary as her tears —
‘I wanted to tell you that I was not offended — that I am not ungenerous — I thought you might think — but you have not thought of it.’
Was there ever more awkward speaking? — or any behaviour less like that of the graceful30, self-possessed Miss Lyon, whose phrases were usually so well turned, and whose repartees were so ready?
For a moment there was silence. Esther had her two little delicately-gloved hands clasped on the table. The next moment she felt one hand of Felix covering them both and pressing them firmly; but he did not speak. The tears were both on her cheeks now, and she could look up at him. His eyes had an expression of sadness in them, quite new to her. Suddenly little Job, who had his mental exercises on the occasion, called out, impatiently —
‘She’s tut her finger!’
Felix and Esther laughed, and drew their hands away; and as Esther took her handkerchief to wipe the tears from her cheeks, she said —
‘You see, Job, I am a naughty coward I can’t help crying when I’ve hurt myself.’
‘Zoo soodn’t kuy,’ said Job, energetically, being much impressed with a moral doctrine31 which had come to him after a sufficient transgression32 of it.
‘Job is like me,’ said Felix, ‘fonder of preaching than of practice. But let us look at this same watch,’ he went on, opening and examining it. ‘These little Geneva toys are cleverly constructed to go always a little wrong. But if you wind them up and set them regularly every night, you may know at least that it’s not noon when the hand points there.’
Felix chatted, that Esther might recover herself; but now Mrs Holt came back and apologised.
‘You’ll excuse my going away, I know, Miss Lyon. But there were the dumplings to see to, and what little I’ve got left on my hands now, I like to do well. Not but what I’ve more cleaning to do than ever I had in my life before, as you may tell soon enough if you look at this floor. But when you’ve been used to doing things, and they’ve been taken away from you, it’s as if your hands had been cut off, and you felt the fingers as are of no use to you.’
‘That’s a great image, mother,’ said Felix, as he snapped the watch together, and handed it to Esther: ‘I never heard you use such an image before.’
‘Yes, I know you’ve always some fault to find with what your mother says. But if ever there was a woman could talk with the open Bible before her, and not be afraid, it’s me. I never did tell stories, and I never will — though I know it’s done, Miss Lyon, and by church members too, when they have candles to sell, as I could bring you the proof. But I never was one of ’em, let Felix say what he will about the printing on the tickets. His father believed it was gospel truth, and it’s presumptious to say it wasn’t. For as for curing, how can anybody know? There’s no physic’ll cure without a blessing33, and with a blessing I know I’ve seen a mustard plaister work when there was no more smell nor strength in the mustard than so much flour. And reason good — for the mustard had laid in paper nobody knows how long — so I’ll leave you to guess.’
Mrs Holt looked hard out of the window and gave a slight inarticulate sound of scorn.
Felix had leaned back in his chair with a resigned smile, and was pinching Job’s ears.
Esther said, ‘I think I had better go now,’ not knowing what else to say, yet not wishing to go immediately, lest she should seem to be running away from Mrs Holt. She felt keenly how much endurance there must be for Felix. And she had often been discontented with her father, and called him tiresome34!
‘Where does Job Tudge live?’ she said, still sitting, and looking at the droll35 little figure, set off by a ragged36 jacket with a tail about two inches deep sticking out above the funniest of corduroys.
‘Job has two mansions,’ said Felix. ‘He lives here chiefly; but he has another home, where his grandfather, Mr Tudge the stone-breaker, lives. My mother is very good to Job, Miss Lyon. She has made him a little bed in a cupboard, and she gives him sweetened porridge.’
The exquisite37 goodness implied in these words of Felix impressed Esther the more, because in her hearing his talk had usually been pungent38 and denunciatory. Looking at Mrs Holt, she saw that her eyes had lost their bleak39 north-easterly expression, and were shining with some mildness on little Job, who had turned round towards her, propping40 his head against Felix.
‘Well, why shouldn’t I be motherly to the child, Miss Lyon?’ said Mrs Holt, whose strong powers of argument required the file of an imagined contradiction, if there were no real one at hand. ‘I never was hard-hearted, and I never will be. It was Felix picked the child up and took to him, you may be sure, for there’s nobody else master where he is; but I wasn’t going to beat the orphin child and abuse him because of that, and him as straight as an arrow when he’s stript, and me so fond of children, and only had one of my own to live. I’d three babies, Miss Lyon, but the blessed Lord only spared Felix, and him the masterfullest and the brownest of ’em all. But I did my duty by him, and I said, he’ll have more schooling41 than his father, and he’ll grow up a doctor, and marry a woman with money to furnish — as I was myself, spoons and everything — and I shall have the grandchildren to look up to me, and be drove out in the gig sometimes, like old Mrs Lukyn. And you see what it’s all come to, Miss Lyon: here’s Felix made a common man of himself, and says he’ll never be married — which is the most unreasonable42 thing, and him never easy but when he’s got the child on his lap, or when —’
‘Stop, stop, mother,’ Felix burst in; ‘pray don’t use that limping argument again — that a man should marry because he’s fond of children. That’s a reason for not marrying. A bachelor’s children are always young: they’re immortal43 children — always lisping, waddling44, helpless, and with a chance of turning out good.’
‘The Lord above may know what you mean! And haven’t other folk’s children a chance of turning out good?’
‘O, they grow out of it very fast. Here’s Job Tudge now,’ said Felix, turning the little one round on his knee, and holding his head by the back — ‘Job’s limbs will get lanky45; this little fist, that looks like a puff-ball, and can hide nothing bigger than a gooseberry, will get large and bony, and perhaps want to clutch more than its share; these wide blue eyes that tell me more truth than Job knows, will narrow and narrow and try to hide truth that Job would be better without knowing; this little negative nose will become long and self-asserting; and this little tongue — put out thy tongue, Job’ — Job, awe-struck under this ceremony, put out a little red tongue very timidly — ‘this tongue, hardly bigger than a rose-leaf, will get large and thick, wag out of season, do mischief46, brag47 and cant48 for gain or vanity, and cut as cruelly, for all its clumsiness as if it were a sharp-edge blade. Big Job will perhaps be naughty —’ As Felix, speaking with the loud emphatic49 distinctness habitual50 to him, brought out this terribly familiar word, Job’s sense of mystification became too painful: he hung his lip, and began to cry.
‘See there,’ said Mrs Holt, ‘you’re frightening the innicent child with such talk — and it’s enough to frighten them that think themselves the safest.’
‘Look here, Job, my man,’ said Felix, setting the boy down and turning him towards Esther; ‘go to Miss Lyon, ask her to smile at you, and that will dry up your tears like the sunshine.’
Job put his two brown fists on Esther’s lap, and she stooped to kiss him. Then holding his face between her hands, she said, ‘Tell Mr Holt we don’t mean to be naughty, Job. He should believe in us more. But now I must really go home.’
Esther rose and held out her hand to Mrs Holt who kept it while she said, a little to Esther’s confusion —
‘I’m very glad it’s took your fancy to come here sometimes, Miss Lyon. I know you’re thought to hold your head high, but I speak of people as I find ’em. And I’m sure anybody had need be humble51 that comes where there’s a floor like this — for I’ve put by my best tea-trays, they’re so out of all charicter — I must look Above for comfort now; but I don’t say I’m not worthy52 to be called on for all that.’
Felix had risen and moved towards the door that he might open it and shield Esther from more last words on his mother’s part.
‘Good-bye, Mr Holt.’
‘Will Mr Lyon like me to sit with him an hour this evening, do you think?’
‘Why not? He always likes to see you.’
‘Then I will come. Good-bye.’
‘She’s a very straight figure,’ said Mrs Holt. ‘How she carries herself! But I doubt there’s some truth in what our people say. If she won’t look at young Muscat, it’s the better for him. He’d need have a big fortune that marries her.’
‘That’s true, mother,’ said Felix, sitting down, snatching up little Job, and finding a vent1 for some unspeakable feeling in the pretence53 of worrying him.
Esther was rather melancholy54 as she went home, yet happier withal than she had been for many days before. She thought, ‘I need not mind having shown so much anxiety about his opinion. He is too clear-sighted to mistake our mutual55 position; he is quite above putting a false interpretation56 on what I have done. Besides, he had not thought of me at all — I saw that plainly enough. Yet he was very kind. There is something greater and better in him than I had imagined. His behaviour today — to his mother and me too — I should call it the highest gentlemanliness, only it seems in him to be something deeper. But he has chosen an intolerable life; though I suppose, if I had a mind equal to his, and if he loved me very dearly, I should choose the same life.’
Esther felt that she had prefixed an impossible ‘if’ to that result. But now she had known Felix, her conception of what a happy love must be had become like a dissolving view, in which the once-clear images were gradually melting into new forms and new colours. The favourite Byronic heroes were beginning to look something like last night’s decorations seen in the sober dawn. So fast does a little leaven58 spread within us — so incalculable is the effect of one personality on another. Behind all Esther’s thoughts, like an unacknowledged yet constraining59 presence, there was the sense, that if Felix Holt were to love her, her life would be exalted60 into something quite new — into a sort of difficult blessedness, such as one may imagine in beings who are conscious of painfully growing into the possession of higher powers.
It was quite true that Felix had not thought the more of Esther because of that Sunday afternoon’s interview which had shaken her mind to the very roots. He had avoided intruding61 on Mr Lyon without special reason, because he believed the minister to be preoccupied62 with some private care. He had thought a great deal of Esther with a mixture of strong disapproval63 and strong liking64, which both together made a feeling the reverse of indifference65; but he was not going to let her have any influence on his life. Even if his determination had not been fixed57, he would have believed that she would utterly66 scorn him in any other light than that of an acquaintance, and the emotion she had shown today did not change that belief. But he was deeply touched by this manifestation67 of her better qualities, and felt that there was a new tie of friendship between them. That was the brief history Felix would have given of his relation to Esther. And he was accustomed to observe himself. But very close and diligent68 looking at living creatures, even through the best microscope, will leave room for new and contradictory69 discoveries.
Felix found Mr Lyon particularly glad to talk to him. The minister had never yet disburthened himself about his letter to Mr Philip Debarry concerning the public conference; and as by this time he had all the heads of his discussion thoroughly70 in his mind, it was agreeable to recite them, as well as to express his regret that time had been lost by Mr Debarry’s absence from the Manor71, which had prevented the immediate fulfilment of his pledge.
‘I don’t see how he can fulfil it if the rector refuses,’ said Felix, thinking it well to moderate the little man’s confidence.
‘The rector is of a spirit that will not incur72 earthly impeachment73, and he cannot refuse what is necessary to his nephew’s honourable74 discharge of an obligation,’ said Mr Lyon. ‘My young friend, it is a case wherein the prearranged conditions tend by such a beautiful fitness to the issue I have sought, that I should have for ever held myself a traitor75 to my charge had I neglected the indication.’
收听单词发音 |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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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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ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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vacillation
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| n.动摇；忧柔寡断 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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surmounting
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| 战胜( surmount的现在分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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dolorous
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| adj.悲伤的；忧愁的 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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transgression
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| n.违背；犯规；罪过 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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propping
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| 支撑 | |
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schooling
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| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
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unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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waddling
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| v.（像鸭子一样）摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的现在分词 ) | |
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lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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brag
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| v./n.吹牛，自夸；adj.第一流的 | |
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cant
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| n.斜穿，黑话，猛扔 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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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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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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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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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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leaven
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| v.使发酵；n.酵母；影响 | |
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59
constraining
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| 强迫( constrain的现在分词 )； 强使； 限制； 约束 | |
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60
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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61
intruding
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| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的现在分词)；把…强加于 | |
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62
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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63
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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68
diligent
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| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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69
contradictory
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| adj.反驳的，反对的，抗辩的；n.正反对，矛盾对立 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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71
manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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72
incur
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| vt.招致，蒙受，遭遇 | |
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73
impeachment
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| n.弹劾；控告；怀疑 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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