In Which Mr. Temple Pays a Visit to His Daughter’s Chamber1.
HENRIETTA, when she quitted the room, never stopped until she had gained her own chamber. She had no light but a straggling moonbeam revealed sufficient.
She threw herself upon her bed, choked with emotion. She was incapable2 of thought; a chaos3 of wild images flitted over her brain. Thus had she remained, perchance an hour, with scarcely self-consciousness, when her servant entered with a light to arrange her chamber, and nearly shrieked4 when, on turning round, she beheld5 her mistress.
This intrusion impressed upon Miss Temple the absolute necessity of some exertion7, if only to preserve herself at this moment from renewed interruptions. She remembered where she was, she called back with an effort some recollection of her guests, and she sent that message to her father which we have already noticed. Then she was again alone. How she wished at that moment that she might ever be alone; that the form and shape of human being should no more cross her vision; that she might remain in this dark chamber until she died! There was no more joy for her; her sun was set, the lustre8 of her life was gone; the lute6 had lost its tone, the flower its perfume, the bird its airy wing. What a fleet, as well as fatal, tragedy! How swift upon her improvidence9 had come her heart-breaking pang10! There was an end of faith, for he was faithless; there was an end of love, for love had betrayed her; there was an end of beauty, for beauty had been her bane. All that hitherto made life delightful11, all the fine emotions, all the bright hopes, and the rare accomplishments12 of our nature, were dark delusions13 now, cruel mockeries, and false and cheating phantoms14! What humiliation15! what despair! And he had seemed so true, so pure, so fond, so gifted! What! could it be, could it be that a few short weeks back this man had knelt to her, had adored her? And she had hung upon his accents, and lived in the light of his enraptured16 eyes, and pledged to him her heart, dedicated17 to him her life, devoted18 to him all her innocent and passionate19 affections, worshipped him as an idol20! Why, what was life that it could bring upon its swift wing such dark, such agonising vicissitudes21 as these? It was not life; it was frenzy22!
Some one knocked gently at her door. She did not answer, she feigned23 sleep. Yet the door opened, she felt, though her eyes were shut and her back turned, that there was a light in the room. A tender step approached her bed. It could be but one person, that person whom she had herself deceived. She knew it was her father.
Mr. Temple seated himself by her bedside; he bent24 his head and pressed his lips upon her forehead. In her desolation some one still loved her. She could not resist the impulse; she held forth25 her hand without opening her eyes, her father held it clasped in his.
‘Henrietta,’ he at length said, in a tone of peculiar26 sweetness.
‘Oh! do not speak, my father. Do not speak. You alone have cause to reproach me. Spare me; spare your child.’
‘I came to console, not to reproach,’ said Mr. Temple. ‘But if it please you, I will not speak; let me, however, remain.’
‘Father, we must speak. It relieves me even to confess my indiscretion, my fatal folly27. Father, I feel, yet why, I know not, I feel that you know all!’
‘I know much, my Henrietta, but I do not know all.’
‘And if you knew all, you would not hate me?’
‘Hate you, my Henrietta! These are strange words to use to a father; to a father, I would add, like me. No one can love you, Henrietta, as your father loves you; yet speak to me not merely as a father; speak to me as your earliest, your best, your fondest, your most faithful friend.’
She pressed his hand, but answer, that she could not.
‘Henrietta, dearest, dearest Henrietta, answer me one question.’
‘I tremble, sir.’
‘Then we will speak tomorrow.’
‘Oh! no, to-night. To-morrow may never come. There is no night for me; I cannot sleep. I should go mad if it were not for you. I will speak; I will answer any questions. My conscience is quite clear except to you; no one, no power on earth or heaven, can reproach me, except my father.’
‘He never will. But, dearest, tell me; summon up your courage to meet my question. Are you engaged to this person?’
‘I was.’
‘Positively engaged?’
‘Long ere this I had supposed we should have claimed your sanction. He left me only to speak to his father.’
‘This may be the idle tattle of women?’
‘No, no,’ said Henrietta, in a voice of deep melancholy28; ‘my fears had foreseen this dark reality. This week has been a week of terror to me; and yet I hoped, and hoped, and hoped. Oh! what a fool have I been.’
‘I know this person was your constant companion in my absence; that you have corresponded with him. Has he written very recently?’
‘Within two days.’
‘And his letters?’
‘Have been of late most vague. Oh! my father, indeed, indeed I have not conducted myself so ill as you perhaps imagine. I shrunk from this secret engagement; I opposed by every argument in my power, this clandestine29 correspondence; but it was only for a week, a single week; and reasons, plausible30 and specious31 reasons, were plentiful32. Alas33! alas! all is explained now. All that was strange, mysterious, perplexed34 in his views and conduct, and which, when it crossed my mind, I dismissed with contempt,—all is now too clear.’
‘Henrietta, he is unworthy of you.’
‘Hush35! hush! dear father. An hour ago I loved him. Spare him, if you only wish to spare me.’
‘Cling to my heart, my child. A father’s love has comfort. Is it not so?’
‘I feel it is; I feel calmer since you came and we have spoken. I never can be happy again; my spirit is quite broken. And yet, I feel I have a heart now, which I thought I had not before you came. Dear, dear father,’ she said, rising and putting her arms round Mr. Temple’s neck and leaning on his bosom36, and speaking in a sweet yet very mournful voice, ‘henceforth your happiness shall be mine. I will not disgrace you; you shall not see me grieve; I will atone37, I will endeavour to atone, for my great sins, for sins they were towards you.’
‘My child, the time will come when we shall remember this bitterness only as a lesson. But I know the human heart too well to endeavour to stem your sorrow now; I only came to soothe38 it. My blessing39 is upon you, my child. Let us talk no more. Henrietta, I will send your maid to you. Try to sleep; try to compose yourself.’
‘These people—tomorrow—what shall I do?’
‘Leave all to me. Keep your chamber until they have gone. You need appear no more.’
‘Oh! that no human being might again see me!’
‘Hush! that is not a wise wish. Be calm; we shall yet be happy. To-morrow we will talk; and so good night, my child; good night, my own Henrietta.’
Mr. Temple left the room. He bade the maid go to her mistress, in as calm a tone as if indeed her complaint had been only a headache; and then he entered his own apartment. Over the mantel-piece was a portrait of his daughter, gay and smiling as the spring; the room was adorned40 with her drawings. He drew the chair near the fire, and gazed for some time abstracted upon the flame, and then hid his weeping countenance41 in his hands. He sobbed42 convulsively.
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1
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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3
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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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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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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lute
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| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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improvidence
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| n.目光短浅 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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delusions
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| n.欺骗( delusion的名词复数 )；谬见；错觉；妄想 | |
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phantoms
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| n.鬼怪，幽灵( phantom的名词复数 ) | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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enraptured
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| v.使狂喜( enrapture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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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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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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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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29
clandestine
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| adj.秘密的，暗中从事的 | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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specious
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| adj.似是而非的；adv.似是而非地 | |
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32
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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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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atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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42
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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