Which, though so soon withdrawn1, too gentle seem’d
For harsh denial’s herald2; or that blush
Which now, o’er thy snowy beauty spreading,
Heightens all thy loveliness!”
“And when those gentle eyes, thus rais’d to mine,
Melt in my ardent3 gaze; yet willing not
With haste ungracious to reprove my love,
A moment tremble ere they fall again;
Oh, ’tis a feeling not of earth! ’tis one
Which man’s experience hath not taught him how
To shape in words.”
She had opened the letter, was reading, and had become so much absorbed, that she had not only ceased to hear what Gotterimo said, but was no longer conscious even of his presence. He began to perceive this, and with instinctive[365] politeness, though with a feeling of much disappointment, first became silent, and then, fearing he might be troublesome, after fidgeting a little, and coughing once or twice, left the room.
Julia, without perceiving his departure, continued reading till she had twice begun and twice finished the letter. Then, laying it open on her bosom4, and crossing her hands upon it, she raised her streaming eyes to heaven. The door from the library opened: she withdrew her eyes from their upward gaze, and they rested on Fitz-Ullin. “Oh, Edmund!” she exclaimed, and hastily presenting the letter to him, she covered her face with both her hands, and leaned on the table. Fitz-Ullin glanced at the open letter, and found it to be one which he himself had written to our heroine above a year before.
“Why, Julia,” he said, “should this letter, which you have replied to so fully5, so decidedly,[366] and so long since, now seem to surprise or agitate7 you?”
“I never replied to it! I never received it! I never saw it till this moment!” said Julia.
“What, Julia!” exclaimed Fitz-Ullin, sinking on one knee beside her, and drawing both her hands, from before her face, “do you indeed tell me that you have not, in reply to that letter, rejected the heart and hand it offers?—rejected them, too, on the plea of a prior and long cherished attachment8 to another, that other—the unfortunate Henry St. Aubin?”
“Oh, never! never!” exclaimed Julia, with a fervour of manner, tone of voice, and expression of countenance9, which carried at once conviction and happiness to the heart of Edmund. That look, that manner, not only said, “I have not rejected,” they also said, “I will accept!” Fitz-Ullin gazed upon her for some moments in the silence of powerful emotion.[367] “Julia,” he said, at length, in a voice scarcely audible, “what a load of misery10 you have removed from my heart!”
She returned the pressure of his hand without affectation of reserve; but without the power to speak. “Heavens,” he continued, after a short pause, “that horrible certainty in which every sense has been spell-bound for the last twelve months of wretchedness, was then but a dream! Oh, Julia, how gladly do I awake from it!” Their eyes met as he spoke11; nor were hers immediately withdrawn, though their lids trembled beneath the ardour of his gaze. The Julia and Edmund of former days seemed suddenly restored to each other after a long, long separation: each seemed to read the heart of the other, each wondered that they could have doubted the truth of the other. Both had been silent for some time. “Julia,” said Fitz-Ullin, at length, in a low,[368] entreating12 voice, recollecting13, though it must be confessed, without much alarm, that Julia, though she had denied having rejected him, had not yet said one word about accepting him, “how can I trust to the presumptuous14 hopes with which my heart now throbs—how can I dare to be thus happy till you have pronounced my fate, till you have actually said that you will be mine!” Julia replied only by a look. “I may then,” said Fitz-Ullin, in a low whisper, “speak to Lord L?, as authorised by you?”
Julia breathed a very inaudible sort of a yes; and Fitz-Ullin, who, to hear the important monosyllable, had been obliged to venture his face into a very dangerous neighbourhood, expressed his delighted gratitude15 by as many demonstrations16 of the feelings that said little word of mighty17 consequences had inspired, as he dare well evince; but, as to what exactly[369] he said or did on the occasion, it is by no means necessary to the development of our narrative18 to record.
Julia no longer venturing to look up, her eyes rested, as a sort of excuse for looking down, on the open letter, which, having escaped from Fitz-Ullin’s hand, now lay on her knee. As she dwelt on the expressions it contained of passionate19 tenderness dictated20 by the pure enthusiasm of a First Love, the harrowing descriptions of poor Edmund’s struggles with his own heart, while he had believed himself an obscure and nameless being altogether unworthy of her, her tears flowed silently, except that such was the stillness of all else, that the fall of each on the paper might be distinctly heard. Fitz-Ullin watched her with inexpressible delight, fearing to breathe, lest he should interrupt her. At length, tempted21 by the tear, or the smile, or both, to see[370] what parts of his letter so much affected22 her, he approached his face nearer the paper, (for he was still kneeling,) and read with her, adding emphasis to each tender expression by a gentle pressure of one, or both the hands he still held.
“When did you write this letter, Edmund?” she at length asked.
“On the very day,” he replied, “on which I became acquainted with my birth, when poor Ormond’s rash attempt to put an end to his existence prevented my setting out instantly for Lodore, which I was, indeed, as the letter mentions, in the very act of doing when the alarm was given; for I had long enough vainly struggled with my feelings, while duty and honour forbade me to declare them; another moment of suspense23, therefore, when those obstacles were removed, seemed not to be endured!”
[371]
“And did you say, then, that you received a letter in reply purporting24 to be from me?” asked Julia, “and——”
“I did,” answered Fitz-Ullin, “written in your name, and to all appearance your hand, and even style. I have preserved it, and can shew it you. It contains a gentle, very kindly25 worded, but, as I mentioned, decided6 rejection26 of the proposals made in my letter; and states, as the reason of that rejection, a secret, long cherished attachment, and engagement to Henry, to whom it declares you betrothed27. It then reminds me, in the most seemingly artless and confiding28 manner, of many little circumstances I must myself have observed; and entreats29 me to keep inviolable the secret thus entrusted30 to me, either till you should obtain Lord L?’s consent, or, when of age, have taken some decided step. It farther requests me, not to make known to any of your family my wishes, lest they should urge your[372] acceptance of my hand. And, finally, it commands me on pain of forfeiting31 your friendship for ever, no more to renew the subject to yourself, by the slightest allusion32 to it; even in any private interview that might occur.
“On receiving this letter, I passed some days in a species of delirium33; I scarcely knew what happened, but that I still continued apparently34 in attendance on the sick bed of Ormond; while horrible visions haunted me of every circumstance which had at any time raised for a moment suspicions of a secret understanding subsisting35 between you and your cousin. These were now received as fatal proofs, which long before ought to have opened my eyes. The past, with all its blissful, though presumptuous hopes, was changed in a moment into a wilderness36 on which I dared not look back! I know I wrote to Mrs. Montgomery, and endeavoured to observe your supposed injunction of secrecy37; but, of what I said, I have scarcely[373] an idea. My letter must have been wildly and strangely worded.”
“That letter,” said Julia, and she smiled archly, though blushingly, “we all thought was written, in consequence of your disappointment, (as we believed) about Lady Susan. Her marriage, you know, took place just at that time. And that unfortunate being, Henry too,” she added, “confirmed this opinion, by declaring that he was in your confidence; and saying, that you had also written to him on the subject, quite in despair!”
Fitz-Ullin could not help smiling in his turn, at the idea of his being in despair about Lady Susan.
“On me too,” he rejoined, “Henry forced, what he termed confidence. He has even given me to read, on our last voyage, passages, purporting to be from your correspondence with himself, and containing messages to me, reiterating38 your injunctions of secrecy. And once,[374] he showed me a picture, which he said you had given him, asking if I thought it like. It was like, really like. Judge with what feelings I must have seen him approach it to his lips, and replace it in his bosom! A heart-sickening sensation followed, and my selfish regrets were, for a time, lost in the certainty that you had cast away the inestimable treasure of your affections on a man who did not truly love you; for, I felt that one who did, had been incapable39 of the indelicate display I had just witnessed.” Here Fitz-Ullin unconsciously sighed, as though the sense of present felicity had been overborne by the painful recollections which pressed upon him, then added: “After this, every circumstance, and when we met again, Julia, every look and word was misconstrued by me into confirmations40 of that fatal belief, which, from the moment it took possession of me, poisoned my very existence, and benumbed every faculty41 but that of suffering! Why, Julia,[375] in that agonizing42 interview in the refreshment43 room at Lord L?’s, such was the infatuation of my despair, that I believed we fully understood each other. You seemed to me to acknowledge, that you had received my proposals; for you even said that my letter had given you much pain; I thought of course, you spoke of this letter.”
“I meant,” interrupted Julia, “the then last one to grandmamma, which gave us all pain, it was written in so desponding a manner. But,” she continued, colouring a little, “you spoke, just now, of—of—circumstances, which had raised momentary44 suspicions.” This opening led to a conversation, in which the fears for our hero’s safety which had so long influenced the conduct of Julia towards her cousin, were confessed; and the system of terror practised by Henry, developed. A burst of fond and grateful emotion on the part of Fitz-Ullin followed, by which Julia was so much affected, that[376] when she tried to speak, her lip trembled, and she was unable to articulate. She tried to smile, but the struggle was too much for her: she wept and laughed alternately, till she alarmed Fitz-Ullin so much, that he would have been almost tempted to have called for assistance, could he well have withdrawn his own support. Before Julia had half recovered, Frances entered. She was tripping lightly towards the bell, to ring for breakfast; when, perceiving her sister and our hero, she stopped in the middle of the room, the very statue of surprise! Julia disengaged herself, hastily; discovering, just at this moment, that the assistance which had hitherto been so indispensable as to render it quite proper, had now ceased to be necessary. Fitz-Ullin started up, and, flying towards Frances, seemed to meditate45 a rather familiar species of salutation. But she stepped back. She had, by this time, made a choice of her own, and was not disposed[377] to be embraced, as formerly46, only for her sister’s sake. She extended her hand, however, which he took and kissed, as with an expression of delight on his countenance which she had not seen it wear for a long period, and which looked like the sunshine of the first bright day after a dreary47 winter, he exclaimed, “Frances, I am now indeed your brother!”
Frances approached her sister, who threw herself into her arms, and hid her face in her bosom, whispering: “Oh, Frances, how happy I am. You were quite right, Edmund never loved any one but me!” Frances smiled archly, and looking in her sister’s face, whispered, “First Love! Julia.”
Lord L? entered the room at this moment; and Fitz-Ullin, seeing the sisters thus engaged with each other, heroically resolved on the mighty sacrifice, of tearing himself a moment from Julia’s presence, for the purpose[378] of confirming his happiness. He hastened forward, therefore, and meeting Lord L?, requested a few minutes private conversation with him. His lordship bowed assent48. They retired49. Fitz-Ullin, on entering the library, grasped Lord L?’s hand, and named Julia. Lord L? looked dignified50, and at a loss.
“I have loved her,” said Fitz-Ullin, “from the days of childhood to the present hour!”
“What, then, could have induced you to keep your sentiments so long a secret?” said Lord L?. “But, I will confess, Fitz-Ullin——” Here the gentlemen proceeded with mutual51 confessions52; till, being quite satisfied with the knowledge thus obtained of each other’s private opinions, they re-entered the breakfast-room, with countenances53 of the most perfect good humour. Lord L? sought the eye of Julia; and when he caught it for a moment, smiled with a look, which added yet a tinge54 to the blush that already dyed her cheek.[379] She stood in the recess55 of a glass-door, apart. Fitz-Ullin was soon at her side. In a low whisper, and without looking up, she said, “I should like to speak to grandmamma before we sit down to breakfast, and you may follow me.” Both glided56 out unperceived.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
herald
|
|
| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
ardent
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
agitate
|
|
| vi.(for,against)煽动，鼓动；vt.搅动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
attachment
|
|
| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
entreating
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
recollecting
|
|
| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
presumptuous
|
|
| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
demonstrations
|
|
| 证明( demonstration的名词复数 )； 表明； 表达； 游行示威 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
narrative
|
|
| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
dictated
|
|
| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
suspense
|
|
| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
purporting
|
|
| v.声称是…，（装得）像是…的样子( purport的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
rejection
|
|
| n.拒绝，被拒，抛弃，被弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
betrothed
|
|
| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
confiding
|
|
| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
entreats
|
|
| 恳求，乞求( entreat的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
forfeiting
|
|
| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
allusion
|
|
| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
delirium
|
|
| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
subsisting
|
|
| v.（靠很少的钱或食物）维持生活，生存下去( subsist的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
reiterating
|
|
| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
confirmations
|
|
| 证实( confirmation的名词复数 )； 证据； 确认； （基督教中的）坚信礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
faculty
|
|
| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
agonizing
|
|
| adj.痛苦难忍的；使人苦恼的v.使极度痛苦；折磨(agonize的ing形式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
refreshment
|
|
| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
meditate
|
|
| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
dreary
|
|
| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
assent
|
|
| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
dignified
|
|
| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
mutual
|
|
| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
confessions
|
|
| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
countenances
|
|
| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
tinge
|
|
| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
recess
|
|
| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
glided
|
|
| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |