Chapter 1
Dombey sat in the corner of the darkened room in the great arm-chair by the bedside, and Son lay tucked up warm in a little basket bedstead, carefully disposed on a low settee immediately in front of the fire and close to it, as if his constitution were analogous to that of a muffin, and it was essential to toast him brown while he was very new.
Dombey was about eight-and-forty years of age. Son about eight-and-forty minutes. Dombey was rather bald, rather red, and though a handsome well-made man, too stern and pompous in appearance, to be prepossessing. Son was very bald, and very red, and though (of course) an undeniably fine infant, somewhat crushed and spotty in his general effect, as yet. On the brow of Dombey, Time and his brother Care had set some marks, as on a tree that was to come down in good time - remorseless twins they are for striding through their human forests, notching as they go - while the countenance of Son was crossed with a thousand little creases, which the same deceitful Time would take delight in smoothing out and wearing away with the flat part of his scythe, as a preparation of the surface for his deeper operations.
Dombey, exulting in the long-looked-for event, jingled and jingled the heavy gold watch-chain that depended from below his trim blue coat, whereof the buttons sparkled phosphorescently in the feeble rays of the distant fire. Son, with his little fists curled up and clenched, seemed, in his feeble way, to be squaring at existence for having come upon him so unexpectedly.
'The House will once again, Mrs Dombey,' said Mr Dombey, 'be not only in name but in fact Dombey and Son;' and he added, in a tone of luxurious satisfaction, with his eyes half-closed as if he were reading the name in a device of flowers, and inhaling their fragrance at the same time; 'Dom-bey and Son!'
The words had such a softening influence, that he appended a term of endearment to Mrs Dombey's name (though not without some hesitation, as being a man but little used to that form of address): and said, 'Mrs Dombey, my - my dear.'
A transient flush of faint surprise overspread the sick lady's face as she raised her eyes towards him.
'He will be christened Paul, my - Mrs Dombey - of course.'
She feebly echoed, 'Of course,' or rather expressed it by the motion of her lips, and closed her eyes again.
'His father's name, Mrs Dombey, and his grandfather's! I wish his grandfather were alive this day! There is some inconvenience in the necessity of writing Junior,' said Mr Dombey, making a fictitious autograph on his knee; 'but it is merely of a private and personal complexion. It doesn't enter into the correspondence of the House. Its signature remains the same.' And again he said 'Dombey and Son, in exactly the same tone as before.
Those three words conveyed the one idea of Mr Dombey's life. The earth was made for Dombey and Son to trade in, and the sun and moon were made to give them light. Rivers and seas were formed to float their ships; rainbows gave them promise of fair weather; winds blew for or against their enterprises; stars and planets circled in their orbits, to preserve inviolate a system of which they were the centre. Common abbreviations took new meanings in his eyes, and had sole reference to them. A. D. had no concern with Anno Domini, but stood for anno Dombei - and Son.
He had risen, as his father had before him, in the course of life and death, from Son to Dombey, and for nearly twenty years had been the sole representative of the Firm. Of those years he had been married, ten - married, as some said, to a lady with no heart to give him; whose happiness was in the past, and who was content to bind her broken spirit to the dutiful and meek endurance of the present. Such idle talk was little likely to reach the ears of Mr Dombey, whom it nearly concerned; and probably no one in the world would have received it with such utter incredulity as he, if it had reached him. Dombey and Son had often dealt in hides, but never in hearts. They left that fancy ware to boys and girls, and boarding-schools and books. Mr Dombey would have reasoned: That a matrimonial alliance with himself must, in the nature of things, be gratifying and honourable to any woman of common sense. That the hope of giving birth to a new partner in such a House, could not fail to awaken a glorious and stirring ambition in the breast of the least ambitious of her sex. That Mrs Dombey had entered on that social contract of matrimony: almost necessarily part of a genteel and wealthy station, even without reference to the perpetuation of family Firms: with her eyes fully open to these advantages. That Mrs Dombey had had daily practical knowledge of his position in society. That Mrs Dombey had always sat at the head of his table, and done the honours of his house in a remarkably lady-like and becoming manner. That Mrs Dombey must have been happy. That she couldn't help it.
Or, at all events, with one drawback. Yes. That he would have allowed. With only one; but that one certainly involving much. With the drawback of hope deferred. That hope deferred, which, (as the Scripture very correctly tells us, Mr Dombey would have added in a patronising way; for his highest distinct idea even of Scripture, if examined, would have been found to be; that as forming part of a general whole, of which Dombey and Son formed another part, it was therefore to be commended and upheld) maketh the heart sick. They had been married ten years, and until this present day on which Mr Dombey sat jingling and jingling his heavy gold watch-chain in the great arm-chair by the side of the bed, had had no issue.
- To speak of; none worth mentioning. There had been a girl some six years before, and the child, who had stolen into the chamber unobserved, was now crouching timidly, in a corner whence she could see her mother's face. But what was a girl to Dombey and Son! In the capital of the House's name and dignity, such a child was merely a piece of base coin that couldn't be invested - a bad Boy - nothing more.
Mr Dombey's cup of satisfaction was so full at this moment, however, that he felt he could afford a drop or two of its contents, even to sprinkle on the dust in the by-path of his little daughter.
So he said, 'Florence, you may go and look at your pretty brother, if you lIke, I daresay. Don't touch him!'
The child glanced keenly at the blue coat and stiff white cravat, which, with a pair of creaking boots and a very loud ticking watch, embodied her idea of a father; but her eyes returned to her mother's face immediately, and she neither moved nor answered.
'Her insensibility is as proof against a brother as against every thing else,' said Mr Dombey to himself He seemed so confirmed in a previous opinion by the discovery, as to be quite glad of it'
Next moment, the lady had opened her eyes and seen the child; and the child had run towards her; and, standing on tiptoe, the better to hide her face in her embrace, had clung about her with a desperate affection very much at variance with her years.
'Oh Lord bless me!' said Mr Dombey, rising testily. 'A very illadvised and feverish proceeding this, I am sure. Please to ring there for Miss Florence's nurse. Really the person should be more care-'
'Wait! I - had better ask Doctor Peps if he'll have the goodness to step upstairs again perhaps. I'll go down. I'll go down. I needn't beg you,' he added, pausing for a moment at the settee before the fire, 'to take particular care of this young gentleman, Mrs - '
'Blockitt, Sir?' suggested the nurse, a simpering piece of faded gentility, who did not presume to state her name as a fact, but merely offered it as a mild suggestion.
'Of this young gentleman, Mrs Blockitt.'
'No, Sir, indeed. I remember when Miss Florence was born - '
'Ay, ay, ay,' said Mr Dombey, bending over the basket bedstead, and slightly bending his brows at the same time. 'Miss Florence was all very well, but this is another matter. This young gentleman has to accomplish a destiny. A destiny, little fellow!' As he thus apostrophised the infant he raised one of his hands to his lips, and kissed it; then, seeming to fear that the action involved some compromise of his dignity, went, awkwardly enough, away.
Doctor Parker Peps, one of the Court Physicians, and a man of immense reputation for assisting at the increase of great families, was walking up and down the drawing-room with his hands behind him, to the unspeakable admiration of the family Surgeon, who had regularly puffed the case for the last six weeks, among all his patients, friends, and acquaintances, as one to which he was in hourly expectation day and night of being summoned, in conjunction with Doctor Parker Pep.
'Well, Sir,' said Doctor Parker Peps in a round, deep, sonorous voice, muffled for the occasion, like the knocker; 'do you find that your dear lady is at all roused by your visit?'
'Stimulated as it were?' said the family practitioner faintly: bowing at the same time to the Doctor, as much as to say, 'Excuse my putting in a word, but this is a valuable connexion.'
Mr Dombey was quite discomfited by the question. He had thought so little of the patient, that he was not in a condition to answer it. He said that it would be a satisfaction to him, if Doctor Parker Peps would walk upstairs again.
'Good! We must not disguise from you, Sir,' said Doctor Parker Peps, 'that there is a want of power in Her Grace the Duchess - I beg your pardon; I confound names; I should say, in your amiable lady. That there is a certain degree of languor, and a general absence of elasticity, which we would rather - not -
'See,' interposed the family practitioner with another inclination of the head.
'Quite so,' said Doctor Parker Peps,' which we would rather not see. It would appear that the system of Lady Cankaby - excuse me: I should say of Mrs Dombey: I confuse the names of cases - '
'So very numerous,' murmured the family practitioner - 'can't be expected I'm sure - quite wonderful if otherwise - Doctor Parker Peps's West-End practice - '
'Thank you,' said the Doctor, 'quite so. It would appear, I was observing, that the system of our patient has sustained a shock, from which it can only hope to rally by a great and strong - '
'And vigorous,' murmured the family practitioner.
'Quite so,' assented the Doctor - 'and vigorous effort. Mr Pilkins here, who from his position of medical adviser in this family - no one better qualified to fill that position, I am sure.'
'Oh!' murmured the family practitioner. '"Praise from Sir Hubert Stanley!"'
'You are good enough,' returned Doctor Parker Peps, 'to say so. Mr Pilkins who, from his position, is best acquainted with the patient's constitution in its normal state (an acquaintance very valuable to us in forming our opinions in these occasions), is of opinion, with me, that Nature must be called upon to make a vigorous effort in this instance; and that if our interesting friend the Countess of Dombey - I beg your pardon; Mrs Dombey - should not be - '
'Able,' said the family practitioner.
'To make,' said Doctor Parker Peps.
'That effort,' said the family practitioner.
'Successfully,' said they both together.
'Then,' added Doctor Parker Peps, alone and very gravely, a crisis might arise, which we should both sincerely deplore.'
With that, they stood for a few seconds looking at the ground. Then, on the motion - made in dumb show - of Doctor Parker Peps, they went upstairs; the family practitioner opening the room door for that distinguished professional, and following him out, with most obsequious politeness.
To record of Mr Dombey that he was not in his way affected by this intelligence, would be to do him an injustice. He was not a man of whom it could properly be said that he was ever startled, or shocked; but he certainly had a sense within him, that if his wife should sicken and decay, he would be very sorry, and that he would find a something gone from among his plate and furniture, and other household possessions, which was well worth the having, and could not be lost without sincere regret. Though it would be a cool,. business-like, gentlemanly, self-possessed regret, no doubt.
His meditations on the subject were soon interrupted, first by the rustling of garments on the staircase, and then by the sudden whisking into the room of a lady rather past the middle age than otherwise but dressed in a very juvenile manner, particularly as to the tightness of her bodice, who, running up to him with a kind of screw in her face and carriage, expressive of suppressed emotion, flung her arms around his neck, and said, in a choking voice,
'My dear Paul! He's quite a Dombey!'
'Well, well!' returned her brother - for Mr Dombey was her brother - 'I think he is like the family. Don't agitate yourself, Louisa.'
'It's very foolish of me,' said Louisa, sitting down, and taking out her pocket~handkerchief, 'but he's - he's such a perfect Dombey!'
Mr Dombey coughed.
'It's so extraordinary,' said Louisa; smiling through her tears, which indeed were not overpowering, 'as to be perfectly ridiculous. So completely our family. I never saw anything like it in my life!'
'But what is this about Fanny, herself?' said Mr Dombey. 'How is Fanny?'
'My dear Paul,' returned Louisa, 'it's nothing whatever. Take my word, it's nothing whatever. There is exhaustion, certainly, but nothing like what I underwent myself, either with George or Frederick. An effort is necessary. That's all. If dear Fanny were a Dombey! - But I daresay she'll make it; I have no doubt she'll make it. Knowing it to be required of her, as a duty, of course she'll make it. My dear Paul, it's very weak and silly of me, I know, to be so trembly and shaky from head to foot; but I am so very queer that I must ask you for a glass of wine and a morsel of that cake.'
Mr Dombey promptly supplied her with these refreshments from a tray on the table.
'I shall not drink my love to you, Paul,' said Louisa: 'I shall drink to the little Dombey. Good gracious me! - it's the most astonishing thing I ever knew in all my days, he's such a perfect Dombey.'
Quenching this expression of opinion in a short hysterical laugh which terminated in tears, Louisa cast up her eyes, and emptied her glass.
'I know it's very weak and silly of me,' she repeated, 'to be so trembly and shaky from head to foot, and to allow my feelings so completely to get the better of me, but I cannot help it. I thought I should have fallen out of the staircase window as I came down from seeing dear Fanny, and that tiddy ickle sing.' These last words originated in a sudden vivid reminiscence of the baby.
They were succeeded by a gentle tap at the door.
'Mrs Chick,' said a very bland female voice outside, 'how are you now, my dear friend?'
'My dear Paul,' said Louisa in a low voice, as she rose from her seat, 'it's Miss Tox. The kindest creature! I never could have got here without her! Miss Tox, my brother Mr Dombey. Paul, my dear, my very particular friend Miss Tox.'
The lady thus specially presented, was a long lean figure, wearing such a faded air that she seemed not to have been made in what linen-drapers call 'fast colours' originally, and to have, by little and little, washed out. But for this she might have been described as the very pink of general propitiation and politeness. From a long habit of listening admiringly to everything that was said in her presence, and looking at the speakers as if she were mentally engaged in taking off impressions of their images upon her soul, never to part with the same but with life, her head had quite settled on one side. Her hands had contracted a spasmodic habit of raising themselves of their own accord as in involuntary admiration. Her eyes were liable to a similar affection. She had the softest voice that ever was heard; and her nose, stupendously aquiline, had a little knob in the very centre or key-stone of the bridge, whence it tended downwards towards her face, as in an invincible determination never to turn up at anything.
Miss Tox's dress, though perfectly genteel and good, had a certain character of angularity and scantiness. She was accustomed to wear odd weedy little flowers in her bonnets and caps. Strange grasses were sometimes perceived in her hair; and it was observed by the curious, of all her collars, frills, tuckers, wristbands, and other gossamer articles - indeed of everything she wore which had two ends to it intended to unite - that the two ends were never on good terms, and wouldn't quite meet without a struggle. She had furry articles for winter wear, as tippets, boas, and muffs, which stood up on end in rampant manner, and were not at all sleek. She was much given to the carrying about of small bags with snaps to them, that went off like little pistols when they were shut up; and when full-dressed, she wore round her neck the barrenest of lockets, representing a fishy old eye, with no approach to speculation in it. These and other appearances of a similar nature, had served to propagate the opinion, that Miss Tox was a lady of what is called a limited independence, which she turned to the best account. Possibly her mincing gait encouraged the belief, and suggested that her clipping a step of ordinary compass into two or three, originated in her habit of making the most of everything.
'I am sure,' said Miss Tox, with a prodigious curtsey, 'that to have the honour of being presented to Mr Dombey is a distinction which I have long sought, but very little expected at the present moment. My dear Mrs Chick - may I say Louisa!'
Mrs Chick took Miss Tox's hand in hers, rested the foot of her wine-glass upon it, repressed a tear, and said in a low voice, 'God bless you!'
'My dear Louisa then,' said Miss Tox, 'my sweet friend, how are you now?'
'Better,' Mrs Chick returned. 'Take some wine. You have been almost as anxious as I have been, and must want it, I am sure.'
Mr Dombey of course officiated, and also refilled his sister's glass, which she (looking another way, and unconscious of his intention) held straight and steady the while, and then regarded with great astonishment, saying, 'My dear Paul, what have you been doing!'
'Miss Tox, Paul,' pursued Mrs Chick, still retaining her hand, 'knowing how much I have been interested in the anticipation of the event of to-day, and how trembly and shaky I have been from head to foot in expectation of it, has been working at a little gift for Fanny, which I promised to present. Miss Tox is ingenuity itself.'
'My dear Louisa,' said Miss Tox. 'Don't say so.
'It is only a pincushion for the toilette table, Paul,' resumed his sister; 'one of those trifles which are insignificant to your sex in general, as it's very natural they should be - we have no business to expect they should be otherwise - but to which we attach some interest.
'Miss Tox is very good,' said Mr Dombey.
'And I do say, and will say, and must say,' pursued his sister, pressing the foot of the wine-glass on Miss Tox's hand, at each of the three clauses, 'that Miss Tox has very prettily adapted the sentiment to the occasion. I call "Welcome little Dombey" Poetry, myself!'
'Is that the device?' inquired her brother.
'That is the device,' returned Louisa.
'But do me the justice to remember, my dear Louisa,' said Miss Toxin a tone of low and earnest entreaty, 'that nothing but the - I have some difficulty in expressing myself - the dubiousness of the result would have induced me to take so great a liberty: "Welcome, Master Dombey," would have been much more congenial to my feelings, as I am sure you know. But the uncertainty attendant on angelic strangers, will, I hope, excuse what must otherwise appear an unwarrantable familiarity.' Miss Tox made a graceful bend as she spoke, in favour of Mr Dombey, which that gentleman graciously acknowledged. Even the sort of recognition of Dombey and Son, conveyed in the foregoing conversation, was so palatable to him, that his sister, Mrs Chick - though he affected to consider her a weak good-natured person - had perhaps more influence over him than anybody else.
'My dear Paul,' that lady broke out afresh, after silently contemplating his features for a few moments, 'I don't know whether to laugh or cry when I look at you, I declare, you do so remind me of that dear baby upstairs.'
'Well!' said Mrs Chick, with a sweet smile, 'after this, I forgive Fanny everything!'
It was a declaration in a Christian spirit, and Mrs Chick felt that it did her good. Not that she had anything particular to forgive in her sister-in-law, nor indeed anything at all, except her having married her brother - in itself a species of audacity - and her having, in the course of events, given birth to a girl instead of a boy: which, as Mrs Chick had frequently observed, was not quite what she had expected of her, and was not a pleasant return for all the attention and distinction she had met with.
Mr Dombey being hastily summoned out of the room at this moment, the two ladies were left alone together. Miss Tox immediately became spasmodic.
'I knew you would admire my brother. I told you so beforehand, my dear,' said Louisa. Miss Tox's hands and eyes expressed how much. 'And as to his property, my dear!'
'Ah!' said Miss Tox, with deep feeling. 'Im-mense!'
'But his deportment, my dear Louisa!' said Miss Tox. 'His presence! His dignity! No portrait that I have ever seen of anyone has been half so replete with those qualities. Something so stately, you know: so uncompromising: so very wide across the chest: so upright! A pecuniary Duke of York, my love, and nothing short of it!' said Miss Tox. 'That's what I should designate him.'
'Why, my dear Paul!' exclaimed his sister, as he returned, 'you look quite pale! There's nothing the matter?'
'I am sorry to say, Louisa, that they tell me that Fanny - '
'Now, my dear Paul,' returned his sister rising, 'don't believe it. Do not allow yourself to receive a turn unnecessarily. Remember of what importance you are to society, and do not allow yourself to be worried by what is so very inconsiderately told you by people who ought to know better. Really I'm surprised at them.'
'I hope I know, Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, stiffly, 'how to bear myself before the world.'
'Nobody better, my dear Paul. Nobody half so well. They would be ignorant and base indeed who doubted it.'
'Ignorant and base indeed!' echoed Miss Tox softly.
'But,' pursued Louisa, 'if you have any reliance on my experience, Paul, you may rest assured that there is nothing wanting but an effort on Fanny's part. And that effort,' she continued, taking off her bonnet, and adjusting her cap and gloves, in a business-like manner, 'she must be encouraged, and really, if necessary, urged to make. Now, my dear Paul, come upstairs with me.'
Mr Dombey, who, besides being generally influenced by his sister for the reason already mentioned, had really faith in her as an experienced and bustling matron, acquiesced; and followed her, at once, to the sick chamber.
The lady lay upon her bed as he had left her, clasping her little daughter to her breast. The child clung close about her, with the same intensity as before, and never raised her head, or moved her soft cheek from her mother's face, or looked on those who stood around, or spoke, or moved, or shed a tear.
'Restless without the little girl,' the Doctor whispered Mr Dombey. 'We found it best to have her in again.'
'Can nothing be done?' asked Mr Dombey.
The Doctor shook his head. 'We can do no more.'
The windows stood open, and the twilight was gathering without.
The scent of the restoratives that had been tried was pungent in the room, but had no fragrance in the dull and languid air the lady breathed.
There was such a solemn stillness round the bed; and the two medical attendants seemed to look on the impassive form with so much compassion and so little hope, that Mrs Chick was for the moment diverted from her purpose. But presently summoning courage, and what she called presence of mind, she sat down by the bedside, and said in the low precise tone of one who endeavours to awaken a sleeper:
'Fanny! Fanny!'
There was no sound in answer but the loud ticking of Mr Dombey's watch and Doctor Parker Peps's watch, which seemed in the silence to be running a race.
'Fanny, my dear,' said Mrs Chick, with assumed lightness, 'here's Mr Dombey come to see you. Won't you speak to him? They want to lay your little boy - the baby, Fanny, you know; you have hardly seen him yet, I think - in bed; but they can't till you rouse yourself a little. Don't you think it's time you roused yourself a little? Eh?'
She bent her ear to the bed, and listened: at the same time looking round at the bystanders, and holding up her finger.
'Eh?' she repeated, 'what was it you said, Fanny? I didn't hear you.'
No word or sound in answer. Mr Dombey's watch and Dr Parker Peps's watch seemed to be racing faster.
'Now, really, Fanny my dear,' said the sister-in-law, altering her position, and speaking less confidently, and more earnestly, in spite of herself, 'I shall have to be quite cross with you, if you don't rouse yourself. It's necessary for you to make an effort, and perhaps a very great and painful effort which you are not disposed to make; but this is a world of effort you know, Fanny, and we must never yield, when so much depends upon us. Come! Try! I must really scold you if you don't!'
The race in the ensuing pause was fierce and furious. The watches seemed to jostle, and to trip each other up.
'Fanny!' said Louisa, glancing round, with a gathering alarm. 'Only look at me. Only open your eyes to show me that you hear and understand me; will you? Good Heaven, gentlemen, what is to be done!'
The two medical attendants exchanged a look across the bed; and the Physician, stooping down, whispered in the child's ear. Not having understood the purport of his whisper, the little creature turned her perfectly colourless face and deep dark eyes towards him; but without loosening her hold in the least
The whisper was repeated.
'Mama!' said the child.
The little voice, familiar and dearly loved, awakened some show of consciousness, even at that ebb. For a moment, the closed eye lids trembled, and the nostril quivered, and the faintest shadow of a smile was seen.
'Mama!' cried the child sobbing aloud. 'Oh dear Mama! oh dear Mama!'
The Doctor gently brushed the scattered ringlets of the child, aside from the face and mouth of the mother. Alas how calm they lay there; how little breath there was to stir them!
Thus, clinging fast to that slight spar within her arms, the mother drifted out upon the dark and unknown sea that rolls round all the world.
 
在一间光线被遮暗了的房间的角落里，董贝坐在床边一张大扶手椅子上；他的儿子被包裹得暖和和的，躺在一个小摇篮里；这个小摇篮被考虑周到地放在紧靠着壁炉前面的一条矮矮的长靠椅上，仿佛他的体质和松饼相似，需要趁着他很新鲜的时候，把他烤成棕色。
董贝大约四十八岁。他的儿子出世大约四十八分钟。董贝的头稍稍有些秃，脸色稍稍有些红；虽然他是一位外貌漂亮、身材匀称的男子，可是神色过分严厉与傲慢，因此不能使人产生好感。他的儿子的头很秃，脸色很红；虽然他当然不可否认地是一个可爱的婴孩，可是看上去有些皱巴巴的，身上斑斑点点。时间和他的兄弟操劳——他们是一对残酷无情的孪生兄弟；当大踏步穿过人类森林的时候，他们一边走，一边砍伐——已经在董贝的前额上留下了一些痕迹，就像在一株在适当的时候要被砍倒的树上留下痕迹一样；他的儿子的脸上则被纵横交错地布满了上千道细小的的皱纹；同样是这个爱欺诈人的时间，他将用他大镰刀扁平的一面把这些皱纹抚平、消除，准备好一个表面，好让他在上面进行更深入的操作。
这桩盼望已久的大事终于来临，董贝感到兴高采烈；他玩弄着悬挂在他的整洁的蓝上衣下面的沉甸甸的金表链，让它发出了叮零叮零的响声；在远处炉火的微弱光线中，上衣钮扣像磷火一样闪烁着亮光。他的儿子紧握着卷曲的小拳头，似乎凭他那微弱的气力，正在向这突然降临到他身上的生命摆好进攻的架势。
“董贝夫人，”董贝先生说道，“我们的公司将再一次成为名副其实的董贝父子公司，而不是徒有虚名的了；董——贝父子！”
这几个字具有一种使他变得温柔起来的影响力，所以他在董贝夫人的名字后面又加上了一个表示亲爱的称呼（虽然他并不是没有经过一些迟疑才说出的，因为他毕竟是一位不习惯采用这种称呼方式的人），说道，“董贝夫人，我的——
我的亲爱的。”
那位有病的夫人抬起眼睛望他的时候，脸上片刻间泛起了由于微感惊讶而产生的红晕。
“在给他施洗礼的时候将给他命名为保罗，我的——董贝夫人——，当然是这样。”
她有气无力地重复说了“当然是这样”，或者更确切地说，只是动了动嘴唇，并没有发出声音，然后又闭上了眼睛。
“这是他爸爸的名字，董贝夫人，也是他爷爷的名字！我真但愿他爷爷能活到今天就好了！”然后他又用刚才同样的声调，说道，“董贝父子”。
这四个字表达了董贝先生生活中唯一的思想。土地创造出来是为了给董贝父子去经营商业的；太阳与月亮创造出来是为了给他们亮光。河流与海洋是为了运载他们的商船而形成的；彩虹向他们预示良好的气候；刮风对他们的企业有利或不利；星星和行星沿着轨道运行，是为了保存一个以他们为中心的神圣不可侵犯的体系。普通的缩略语在他的眼中有了新的意义，而且只和他们有关系：A．D与annoDomini（公元）无关，而只是代表annoDombei－andSon（董贝父子纪元）。
在生与死的过程中，他跟他父亲先前一样，曾经从儿子上升为董贝；在这之后的近20年中，他是这个公司的唯一的代表。在这20年中，他结婚已有10年。有人说，他是跟一位没有把心交给他的女士结了婚，这位女士过去曾经有过幸福，后来安心让那颗破碎了的心对现状逆来顺受，安守本分。这种流言蜚语与董贝先生密切有关，因此不大可能传到他的耳朵里；如果真的传到了，那么世界上大概没有第二个人能像他那样对它完全不相信的。董贝父子公司经常经营皮革生意，但却从来不经营心的生意。他们把这个花俏的商品让给青年男女、寄宿学校和书籍去打交道了。董贝先生可能会这样来推断事理：任何一位具有常识、和他本人结婚的妇女，理所当然地一定会觉得心满意足，光彩体面；给这样一个公司生下一个新的合伙人的希望，即使在她们当中最没有野心的女性的心中也必定会唤起那光荣得意、兴奋激动的抱负来；董贝夫人签订了那份婚约就意味着她几乎必然就会成为那个高贵的、富有的家庭的一员，且不提她给那个家庭传宗接代的事了，因此她一定会完全看到这些好处；董贝夫人曾经从日常生活经验中认识到他的社会地位；董贝夫人经常坐在他的餐桌的首席，并以出色的贵夫人的风度，十分得体地履行了家庭主妇的职责；董贝夫人一定一直是幸福的，她不可能不这样。
不过，也有美中不足的地方。对了。这个缺点他是会承认的。就只有这一个缺点；但是这一个缺点却确实关系重大。他们已经结婚十年，但是直到今天，董贝先生坐在床边的大扶手椅子上，玩弄着他的沉甸甸的金表链，让它发出了叮零叮零的响声之前，他们还没有后嗣。
——没有值得一提的后嗣。大约在六年以前，他们有了一个女儿；这个孩子没有被人觉察，已经偷偷地溜进了这个房间，现在正战战兢兢地蹲在一个角落里；她从那里可以望得见她妈妈的脸孔。可是对董贝父子公司来说，一个女儿算得了什么呢！在公司的声望与尊严的资本中，这样一个孩子只不过是一枚不能用来投资的劣币——一个坏孩子——，如此而已。
然而，董贝先生这时杯子里却装满了称心满意的酒，装得很满很满，因此他甚至可以把其中的一两滴洒到他的小女儿的小径中的尘土上。
所以他说道，“弗洛伦斯，我想，如果你喜欢的话，你可以去看看你漂亮的小弟弟嘛。可别去碰他！”
女孩子朝着蓝色的上衣和笔挺的白色领带敏锐地看了一眼，这两件东西加上一双走起来格吱格吱响的长靴和一只滴答滴答走得很响的表，构成了他对父亲的概念；但是她的眼睛立刻又回到了她母亲的脸上；她没有移动，也没有回答。
不一会儿，夫人张开了眼睛，看到了女孩子；女孩子向她跑过去，然后踮起脚跟，好让脸部尽量藏到她的怀抱中，一边悲观绝望地、而又满怀深情地紧紧抱着她，女孩子的这种感情与她的年龄是很不相称的。
“啊，天主保佑我！”董贝先生急躁地站起来，说道，“这真是十分鲁莽、十分冒失的行动！也许我最好去请佩普斯大夫，劳驾他再到楼上来一趟。我就下去。我就下去。”他走到壁炉前的长靠椅边，停了片刻，又补充说道，“我想用不着我请求您，要格外小心地照看好这位年轻的先生吧，您这位——”
“布洛基特太太，先生？”护士提示道，她是一位爱装出假笑，门第已经衰微的女人；她不敢把她的姓名当作事实来陈述，而只是把它当作一个可供考虑的建议提出来。
“照看好这位年轻的先生，布洛基特太太。”
“是的，先生，当然的。我记得弗洛伦斯小姐出生的时候——”
“是的，是的，是的，”董贝先生向那个摇篮弯下身去，同时稍稍皱了一下眉头，说道，“弗洛伦斯小姐那时一切都很好，但这却是另外一码事。这位年轻的先生是命中注定要去完成一番伟大事业的。命中注定的伟大事业呵，小家伙！”当他向婴孩这样打了招呼的时候，他把他的一只手举到唇边，吻了吻它；然后，似乎害怕这个动作有损于他的尊严，就很不自然地走开了。
帕克•佩普斯大夫是宫廷医生当中的一位，在帮助重要家族增添人口方面享有很大的声誉，现在正把双手抄在背后，在客厅里走来走去；家庭医生对他的钦佩是无法用言语形容的；在过去的六个星期中，他一直在他的病人、朋友和熟人中吹嘘现在的这个病例，说他日日夜夜、时时刻刻都等待着和帕克•佩普斯大夫一起被请去进行会诊。
“唔，先生，”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道，他那清晰、深沉、洪亮的声音这时候像被布蒙住的门铃一样，减弱了；“您去看您亲爱的夫人时，您是否发现她被惊醒了？”
“她是否好像受到了刺激？”家庭医生轻声说道，同时向帕克•佩普斯大夫鞠丁个躬，好像是说，“请原谅我插了一句话，不过这是个有价值的补充。”
董贝先生被这个问题问得很为难。他在这之前很少想到过病人，所以不知道该怎么回答才好。他说，如果帕克•佩普斯大夫肯再上楼去看看的话，那么他将十分感激。
“好！我们不应当向您掩饰真情，先生，”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道，“公爵夫人——请原谅，我把姓名给混淆了；我是想说，您的和蔼可亲的夫人缺乏精力；有一定程度的虚弱，总的说来，没有灵活应变的能力，这是我们所不愿意——”
“看到的，”家庭医生插嘴道，同时又低了一下头。
“完全不错，”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道，“这是我们所不愿意看到的。看来，坎卡贝夫人的体质，对不起，我是想说董贝夫人的体质，我把病人的姓名给混淆了。”
“病人很多很多，”家庭医生低声说道，“确实，不可能指望他把他们的姓名全都记得清清楚楚——否则倒是不可思议的了——，帕克•佩普斯大夫在伦敦西区①的业务——”
“谢谢您，”大夫说道，“完全不错。我是说，看来，我们病人的体质经受了一次冲击，要希望恢复元气就只有作出很大的、有力的——”
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①伦敦西区（Weat－End）：伦敦西部地区，其中有很好的公园、花园、宫殿、贵族住宅、议会及政府机构等。
“和劲头十足的，”家庭医生低声说道。
“完全不错，”大夫同意道，“和劲头十足的努力才行。皮尔金斯先生担任这个家庭的医疗顾问——，毫无疑问，没有什么人能比他更有资格担任这个职务的了。”
“啊！”家庭医生低声说道，“这是休伯特•斯坦利爵士的夸奖呢①！”
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①指诚实的夸奖。休伯特•斯坦利爵士（SirHubertStanley）是18世纪英国戏剧作家托马斯•莫顿（ThomasMorton，1764—1838年）的喜剧《伤心的治疗》（ACurefortheHeartAche）中的一个人物。
“您这么说真太客气了，”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道，“皮尔金斯先生由于担任这个职务，对病人正常状态下的体质是最为了解的（这种了解对我们在这种情况下作出诊断是十分宝贵的）；他和我一致的意见是，在目前的情况下，需要求助于生命力来作出劲头十足的努力；如果我们这位有趣的朋友董贝伯爵夫人——请原谅，董贝夫人真的不——”
“能，”家庭医生说道。
“成功地作出那样的努力的话，”帕克•佩普斯大夫说道，“那么就会出现危急的局面，那是我们两人都会衷心悲痛的。”
说完之后，他们站在那里向地上看了几秒钟。然后，帕克•佩普斯大夫默不作声地做了个手势之后，他们上了楼；家庭医生巴巴结结、毕恭毕敬地为那位杰出的专家开了房门，然后跟随在他后面。
如果说董贝先生听到这个消息并不感到忧伤的话，那对他是不公道的。可以恰当地说，他不是那种会惊慌失措或感情激动的人；但他内心总是有感觉的；如果他的妻子生了病、倒下去了的话，那么他是会感到很不愉快的；他会觉得从他的盘子、家具和其他家庭用品中间不见了一个什么东西，而这东西是很值得有的，丢弃它不能不使他感到由衷的惋惜；然而这无疑是冷淡的、照例行事的、绅士式的沉着克制的惋惜。
不久，首先是楼梯上窸窸窣窣的衣服声，然后是一位夫人突然急急忙忙地走进了房间，把他在这个问题上的沉思打断了。这位夫人已经过了中年，但却穿着得十分年轻，特别是胸衣绷得紧紧的，更显得这样；她的面容和姿态中露出一副紧张的神气，说明她正抑制着内心十分激动的情绪；她跑到他跟前，急忙伸出胳膊，搂住他的脖子，透不过气来地发出声音，说道：
“我亲爱的保罗！他真正是我们董贝家里的人哪！”
“唔，唔！”她的哥哥回答道，——因为董贝先生是她的哥哥——“我觉得他•确•实•是像我们家里的人。你别太激动了，路易莎。”
“我是很傻，”路易莎坐下，掏出一块手绢，说道，“不过，不过，他是这么完完全全地是我们董贝家里的人呵！我这一辈子还从没有见到过像这样的事！”
“可是范妮本人呢？”董贝先生问道，“范妮怎么样了？”
“我亲爱的保罗，”路易莎回答道，“什么问题也没有。请相信我的话，什么问题也没有。当然，她筋疲力竭了，不过根本不能跟我生乔治或弗雷德里克的时候相比。必须作出努力。那样就行，没有别的了。如果亲爱的范妮像我们董贝家里的人的话！——不过我想她将会作出努力的；我毫不怀疑，她将会作出努力的。她知道，我们要求她尽这个责任，因此她当然是会作出努力的。我亲爱的保罗，我从头到脚都在哆嗦、摇晃，我知道，我这样是很软弱很傻气的，可是我头昏眼花得厉害，因此我得求你给我一杯酒和一小块饼才行。当我下楼来看到亲爱的范妮和那个小东西的时候，我想我一定要从楼梯的窗口摔到外面去了。”她最后讲到小东西那几个字时，仿佛是回忆起那个小婴孩就在眼前而说出来的。
在这之后，听到了轻轻的敲门声。
“奇克夫人，”门外一个很温柔的女性的声音说道，“您好吗，我亲爱的朋友？”
“我亲爱的保罗，”路易莎从坐位上站起来，低声说道，“这是托克斯小姐。她是一位善良的人儿！没有她我怎么也到不了这里！托克斯小姐，这是我的哥哥董贝先生。保罗，我亲爱的，这是我最要好的朋友托克斯小姐。”
被这样作了特别介绍的女士是一位身材细长、消瘦的人，姿容衰败，仿佛她当初不是用亚麻布商人所说的“经久不褪色”的染料染成，而是被逐渐洗去了颜色似的。要不是这一点，她真可以称得上是殷勤与礼貌的鲜丽化身了。她长期以来养成一个习惯，就是对当面对她所说的一切，她都令人钦佩地热心听着，而且看着说话的人，仿佛她心里正在把他的形象刻印在她的心灵上，直到生命停止之前永远也不与它分离似的；由于这样一种习惯，她的头这时已经歪向一边。她的手得了一种痉挛性的习惯，仿佛出于情不自禁的钦佩而会自动地举起来。她的眼睛也容易受到类似的影响。她的声音是最温柔悦耳的；她的鼻子是个很大的鹰钩鼻，在鼻梁的正中间长着一个小小的肉瘤，鼻子从这里往脸上伸下去，仿佛它已下定了不可动摇的决心，不论在什么情况下也决不再翘起来似的。
托克斯小姐的衣服虽然完全合乎上流社会的风格，质料也是好的，但却有些难看和单薄。她习惯在有带的软帽上和便帽上装饰一些奇怪的、枯萎了的小花。在她的头发中间有时还可以看到一些奇怪的草。那些富于好奇心的人注意到，她的衣领、褶边、围巾、袖口以及其他轻而薄的物品——实际上她所穿的凡是两端可以连接起来的一切东西——，这两端的关系从来都不和好，它们一相遇决不会没有一番搏斗的。她在冬天穿着毛皮的物品——如斗篷、围巾、手筒——，那些毛全都暴怒似地根根竖立，一点也不光滑柔软。她十分喜欢携带有按扣的小袋子，当把袋子合上的时候，按扣就像小手枪一样劈啪直响。当她穿礼服的时候，她在脖子上挂了一个极为质朴的小金盒，它的形状是一只没有光泽、看不出有任何神情的老眼睛。这些以及其他类似的一些现象使得一种看法流传开来：托克斯小姐是一位所谓资产有限的女士，她把这点资产充分利用了。她用小步走路的步态可能更促使人们相信这一点，并且使人觉得，她把普通跨度的一步分成两步或三步，就起因于她有充分利用一切事物的习惯。
“这是真的，”托克斯小姐行了一个不同寻常的屈膝礼，说道，“有幸被介绍给董贝先生认识，这是我久已盼望得到的光荣，可是我千万没有料想到就在现在。我亲爱的奇克夫人——
我是否可以称您为路易莎？”
奇克夫人把托克斯小姐的手握在她的手里，把酒杯的底座放在她的手上，并忍住一滴眼泪，低声说道，“上帝保佑您！”
“我亲爱的路易莎，”托克斯小姐说道，“我可爱的朋友，您现在觉得怎么样了？”
“好些了，”奇克夫人回答道，“喝点酒吧。您一直几乎跟我一样焦急不安，毫无疑问，一定需要喝点酒了。”
董贝先生自然尽了东道主的情谊。
“保罗，”奇克夫人仍旧握着她的手，继续说道，“托克斯小姐知道我一直万分关怀地期待着今天这件事情，她就忙着给范妮做了一个小礼物，我答应把它送给她。这只不过是一个可以摆在梳妆台上的针插，保罗，但是我说，我将要说，我必须说，托克斯小姐所表达的感情十分美妙地适合当前的情况。‘欢迎小董贝’，我说，这是一首诗！”
“这是针插上的题词吗？”她的哥哥问道。
“这是针插上的题词，”路易莎回答道。
“不过，您得记住下面的情形，这对我才是公道的，我亲爱的路易莎，”托克斯小姐用低沉的、恳切的、请求的声调说道，“只是由于——我表达我的思想有些困难——只是由于最后是男是女当时不能肯定，这才使我很冒昧地采用了这样的题词。‘欢迎您，董贝少爷！’这才更确切地符合我的感情，我相信您是知道的。不过，我希望，这天使般新来的客人的不确定性，能成为原谅我的理由，否则那就会显得是不谅解我的冒昧了。”托克斯小姐说时向董贝先生优雅地鞠了一个躬，董贝先生和蔼亲切地还了礼。甚至在上面谈话中对董贝父子公司所表示的敬意也很投合他的心意，因此虽然他爱把他的妹妹奇克夫人看作是个软弱的、性格善良的人，但她对他的影响也许比任何人都更大。
“好啦，”奇克夫人亲切地微笑了一下，说道，“在这之后，我对范妮一切都宽恕了！”
这是按照基督精神所作的一项声明，奇克夫人说了以后觉得心情轻松了。并不是她有什么具体的事情需要宽恕她的嫂子，确实也没有任何事情需要她宽恕的，只有一个例外，就是她嫁给了她的哥哥——这件事情本身是大胆无礼的——，而且随着时间的推移，又生了一个女孩子，而不是男孩子；奇克夫人常常提起这件事，说这完全不符合她的期望，也不是她这位嫂子对她所受到的一切厚待与光荣所应作出的令人愉快的报答。
董贝先生这时被急忙请求离开，房间里只剩下两位女士在一起。托克斯小姐立刻痉挛起来。
“我早知道您会仰慕我哥哥的。我以前跟您说过，我亲爱的，”路易莎说道。
托克斯小姐的手和眼睛表示出她是多么仰慕。
“至于他的财产，我亲爱的！”
“啊！”托克斯小姐怀着深切的感情说道。
“大得——不得了！”
“啊，他的品行，我亲爱的路易莎！”托克斯小姐说道，“他的仪表！他的尊严！我这一生中所见到过的肖像没有一个能完全具备这些优美的品质，一半也没有。多么庄严，您知道，多么坚决，胸膛是多么宽阔，身躯是多么挺直！他是一位财力雄厚的约克郡①公爵，我亲爱的，不比约克郡公爵欠缺什么！”托克斯小姐说道。“我要这样称呼他。”
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①约克郡（Yorkshire）：英格兰北部的一个郡。
“你怎么了，我亲爱的保罗！”他妹妹看到他回来的时候，高声喊道，“你的脸色这么苍白！没出什么事吧？”
“我很遗憾地告诉你，路易莎，他们告诉我，范妮——”
“啊，我亲爱的保罗！”他的妹妹站起来，说道，“别相信它！如果你觉得我的经验可靠的话，那么，保罗，你尽可以放心，只要范妮作出努力就行；”她有条有理地脱下软帽，整整便帽和手套，继续说道，“应该鼓励她作出那个努力；真的，如果必要的话，那就应该强迫她作出那个努力。我亲爱的保罗，现在请跟我一起上楼去。”
董贝先生除了由于前面所说的理由一般受他的妹妹的影响外，还把她当作一位有经验的和能干的主妇，真正相信她，所以默默地同意，立刻跟着她到病人的房间里去。
他的夫人就像他离开她时那样躺在床上，把她的小女儿紧紧地抱在怀中。这个女孩子怀着跟先前一样强烈的感情，紧紧地抱着她，从不抬起头，或把脸颊从她妈妈的脸上移开，或看看站在周围的人们，或说句话，或移动身子，或掉一滴眼泪。
“没有小女孩在身边她就烦躁不安，”大夫对董贝先生低声说道，“因此我们觉得最好还是让她重新进来。”
病床周围一片深沉的寂静；两位医生似乎十分同情而又很少希望地看着这个失去知觉的人，因此奇克夫人一时忘掉了她到这里来的目的，可是她立刻鼓起勇气，并像她所说的，镇静下来，在床边坐下，并用一个竭力想要唤醒一位睡眠者的人的那种同样低微的声调，喊道：
“范妮！范妮！”
没有回答的声音，而只有董贝先生的表和帕克•佩普斯大夫的表的滴嗒滴嗒走得很响的声音。这两只表似乎正在寂静中赛跑。
“范妮，我亲爱的，”奇克夫人假装出轻松愉快的语气，说道，“董贝先生到这里来看您了。您是不是要跟他讲话？他们想把您的小男孩放到床上——范妮，您知道，就是那个小娃娃，我想您还没有看到过他吧！不过，他们不能放，除非您把精神稍稍振作起来一些才行。您是不是认为，这该是您把精神振作起来一些的时候了？嗯？”
她把耳朵凑近床上听着，一边向四周站着的人环视着，并举起一个指头。
“嗯？”她重复说道，“您说什么，范妮？我听不见。”
没有一个字，也没有一个声音回答。董贝先生的表与帕克•佩普斯大夫的表似乎跑得更快了。
“啊，真的，我亲爱的范妮，”她的小姑子说道；她改变了姿势，不由自主地说得不很有信心，但却更认真了，“如果您不振作起精神的话，那么我就不得不跟您生气了。您有必要作出努力，也许是您不愿作出的很大的、很痛苦的努力；可是您知道，这是个需要作出努力的世界呀，范妮；当这么多的事情取决于我们的时候，我们应该永不退让。来吧，试一试吧！如果您不试的话，那么我真的一定要骂您了！”
在随即而来的沉寂中，两只表的赛跑是猛烈的、狂暴的。
它们似乎在相互推撞，相互绊倒对方。
“范妮！”路易莎怀着愈益增长的恐怖，环视四周，说道，“只要看我一下就行。只要张开您的眼睛表示一下您听到了我的话，明白了我的话就行，好不好？我的天呀，先生们，现在该怎么办呢！”
两位医生隔着床交换了一下眼光。家庭医生弯下身子，在女孩子的耳旁轻声地说了一些什么。小女孩子没有听懂他耳语的意思，向他转过她的毫无血色的面孔和凹陷的、乌黑的眼睛，但丝毫没有放松她的拥抱。
家庭医生又把他的耳语重复了一次。
“妈妈！”女孩子说道。
这熟悉的、受到热烈喜爱的孩子的声音把甚至是那么奄奄一息的知觉也唤醒过来，稍稍地显示了一下。片刻间，闭合的眼睑颤动了一下，鼻孔翕动了一下，还可以看到那极为微弱的笑影。
“妈妈！”女孩子大声地抽泣着，喊道。“啊，亲爱的妈妈！
啊，亲爱的妈妈！”
大夫轻轻地把女孩子散乱的长卷发从母亲的脸上和嘴上拂开。啊，它们是多么安静地躺在那里，呼吸是多么微弱，它不能把它们吹动了！
就这样，母亲用她的胳膊紧紧地抱住那根不结实的圆材，在环绕全世界的黑暗的、未知的海洋上漂流出去了。
Chapter 2
In which Timely Provision is made for an Emergency that will sometimes arise in the best-regulated Families
'I shall never cease to congratulate myself,' said Mrs Chick,' on having said, when I little thought what was in store for us, - really as if I was inspired by something, - that I forgave poor dear Fanny everything. Whatever happens, that must always be a comfort to me!'
Mrs Chick made this impressive observation in the drawing-room, after having descended thither from the inspection of the mantua-makers upstairs, who were busy on the family mourning. She delivered it for the behoof of Mr Chick, who was a stout bald gentleman, with a very large face, and his hands continually in his pockets, and who had a tendency in his nature to whistle and hum tunes, which, sensible of the indecorum of such sounds in a house of grief, he was at some pains to repress at present.
'Don't you over-exert yourself, Loo,' said Mr Chick, 'or you'll be laid up with spasms, I see. Right tol loor rul! Bless my soul, I forgot! We're here one day and gone the next!'
Mrs Chick contented herself with a glance of reproof, and then proceeded with the thread of her discourse.
'I am sure,' she said, 'I hope this heart-rending occurrence will be a warning to all of us, to accustom ourselves to rouse ourselves, and to make efforts in time where they're required of us. There's a moral in everything, if we would only avail ourselves of it. It will be our own faults if we lose sight of this one.'
Mr Chick invaded the grave silence which ensued on this remark with the singularly inappropriate air of 'A cobbler there was;' and checking himself, in some confusion, observed, that it was undoubtedly our own faults if we didn't improve such melancholy occasions as the present.
'Which might be better improved, I should think, Mr C.,' retorted his helpmate, after a short pause, 'than by the introduction, either of the college hornpipe, or the equally unmeaning and unfeeling remark of rump-te-iddity, bow-wow-wow!' - which Mr Chick had indeed indulged in, under his breath, and which Mrs Chick repeated in a tone of withering scorn.
'Merely habit, my dear,' pleaded Mr Chick.
'Nonsense! Habit!' returned his wife. 'If you're a rational being, don't make such ridiculous excuses. Habit! If I was to get a habit (as you call it) of walking on the ceiling, like the flies, I should hear enough of it, I daresay.
It appeared so probable that such a habit might be attended with some degree of notoriety, that Mr Chick didn't venture to dispute the position.
'Bow-wow-wow!' repeated Mrs Chick with an emphasis of blighting contempt on the last syllable. 'More like a professional singer with the hydrophobia, than a man in your station of life!'
'How's the Baby, Loo?' asked Mr Chick: to change the subject.
'What Baby do you mean?' answered Mrs Chick.
'The poor bereaved little baby,' said Mr Chick. 'I don't know of any other, my dear.'
'You don't know of any other,'retorted Mrs Chick. 'More shame for you, I was going to say.
Mr Chick looked astonished.
'I am sure the morning I have had, with that dining-room downstairs, one mass of babies, no one in their senses would believe.'
'One mass of babies!' repeated Mr Chick, staring with an alarmed expression about him.
'It would have occurred to most men,' said Mrs Chick, 'that poor dear Fanny being no more, - those words of mine will always be a balm and comfort to me,' here she dried her eyes; 'it becomes necessary to provide a Nurse.'
'Oh! Ah!' said Mr Chick. 'Toor-ru! - such is life, I mean. I hope you are suited, my dear.'
'Indeed I am not,' said Mrs Chick; 'nor likely to be, so far as I can see, and in the meantime the poor child seems likely to be starved to death. Paul is so very particular - naturally so, of course, having set his whole heart on this one boy - and there are so many objections to everybody that offers, that I don't see, myself, the least chance of an arrangement. Meanwhile, of course, the child is - '
'Going to the Devil,' said Mr Chick, thoughtfully, 'to be sure.'
Admonished, however, that he had committed himself, by the indignation expressed in Mrs Chick's countenance at the idea of a Dombey going there; and thinking to atone for his misconduct by a bright suggestion, he added:
'Couldn't something temporary be done with a teapot?'
If he had meant to bring the subject prematurely to a close, he could not have done it more effectually. After looking at him for some moments in silent resignation, Mrs Chick said she trusted he hadn't said it in aggravation, because that would do very little honour to his heart. She trusted he hadn't said it seriously, because that would do very little honour to his head. As in any case, he couldn't, however sanguine his disposition, hope to offer a remark that would be a greater outrage on human nature in general, we would beg to leave the discussion at that point.
Mrs Chick then walked majestically to the window and peeped through the blind, attracted by the sound of wheels. Mr Chick, finding that his destiny was, for the time, against him, said no more, and walked off. But it was not always thus with Mr Chick. He was often in the ascendant himself, and at those times punished Louisa roundly. In their matrimonial bickerings they were, upon the whole, a well-matched, fairly-balanced, give-and-take couple. It would have been, generally speaking, very difficult to have betted on the winner. Often when Mr Chick seemed beaten, he would suddenly make a start, turn the tables, clatter them about the ears of Mrs Chick, and carry all before him. Being liable himself to similar unlooked for checks from Mrs Chick, their little contests usually possessed a character of uncertainty that was very animating.
Miss Tox had arrived on the wheels just now alluded to, and came running into the room in a breathless condition. 'My dear Louisa,'said Miss Tox, 'is the vacancy still unsupplied?'
'You good soul, yes,' said Mrs Chick.
'Then, my dear Louisa,' returned Miss Tox, 'I hope and believe - but in one moment, my dear, I'll introduce the party.'
Running downstairs again as fast as she had run up, Miss Tox got the party out of the hackney-coach, and soon returned with it under convoy.
It then appeared that she had used the word, not in its legal or business acceptation, when it merely expresses an individual, but as a noun of multitude, or signifying many: for Miss Tox escorted a plump rosy-cheeked wholesome apple-faced young woman, with an infant in her arms; a younger woman not so plump, but apple-faced also, who led a plump and apple-faced child in each hand; another plump and also apple-faced boy who walked by himself; and finally, a plump and apple-faced man, who carried in his arms another plump and apple-faced boy, whom he stood down on the floor, and admonished, in a husky whisper, to 'kitch hold of his brother Johnny.'
'My dear Louisa,' said Miss Tox, 'knowing your great anxiety, and wishing to relieve it, I posted off myself to the Queen Charlotte's Royal Married Females,' which you had forgot, and put the question, Was there anybody there that they thought would suit? No, they said there was not. When they gave me that answer, I do assure you, my dear, I was almost driven to despair on your account. But it did so happen, that one of the Royal Married Females, hearing the inquiry, reminded the matron of another who had gone to her own home, and who, she said, would in all likelihood be most satisfactory. The moment I heard this, and had it corroborated by the matron - excellent references and unimpeachable character - I got the address, my dear, and posted off again.'
'Like the dear good Tox, you are!' said Louisa.
'Not at all,' returned Miss Tox. 'Don't say so. Arriving at the house (the cleanest place, my dear! You might eat your dinner off the floor), I found the whole family sitting at table; and feeling that no account of them could be half so comfortable to you and Mr Dombey as the sight of them all together, I brought them all away. This gentleman,' said Miss Tox, pointing out the apple-faced man, 'is the father. Will you have the goodness to come a little forward, Sir?'
The apple-faced man having sheepishly complied with this request, stood chuckling and grinning in a front row.
'This is his wife, of course,' said Miss Tox, singling out the young woman with the baby. 'How do you do, Polly?'
'I'm pretty well, I thank you, Ma'am,' said Polly.
By way of bringing her out dexterously, Miss Tox had made the inquiry as in condescension to an old acquaintance whom she hadn't seen for a fortnight or so.
'I'm glad to hear it,' said Miss Tox. 'The other young woman is her unmarried sister who lives with them, and would take care of her children. Her name's Jemima. How do you do, Jemima?'
'I'm pretty well, I thank you, Ma'am,' returned Jemima.
'I'm very glad indeed to hear it,' said Miss Tox. 'I hope you'll keep so. Five children. Youngest six weeks. The fine little boy with the blister on his nose is the eldest The blister, I believe,' said Miss Tox, looking round upon the family, 'is not constitutional, but accidental?'
The apple-faced man was understood to growl, 'Flat iron.
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' said Miss Tox, 'did you?
'Flat iron,' he repeated.
'Oh yes,' said Miss Tox. 'Yes! quite true. I forgot. The little creature, in his mother's absence, smelt a warm flat iron. You're quite right, Sir. You were going to have the goodness to inform me, when we arrived at the door that you were by trade a - '
'Stoker,' said the man.
'A choker!' said Miss Tox, quite aghast.
'Stoker,' said the man. 'Steam ingine.'
'Oh-h! Yes!' returned Miss Tox, looking thoughtfully at him, and seeming still to have but a very imperfect understanding of his meaning.
'And how do you like it, Sir?'
'Which, Mum?' said the man.
'That,' replied Miss Tox. 'Your trade.'
'Oh! Pretty well, Mum. The ashes sometimes gets in here;' touching his chest: 'and makes a man speak gruff, as at the present time. But it is ashes, Mum, not crustiness.'
Miss Tox seemed to be so little enlightened by this reply, as to find a difficulty in pursuing the subject. But Mrs Chick relieved her, by entering into a close private examination of Polly, her children, her marriage certificate, testimonials, and so forth. Polly coming out unscathed from this ordeal, Mrs Chick withdrew with her report to her brother's room, and as an emphatic comment on it, and corroboration of it, carried the two rosiest little Toodles with her. Toodle being the family name of the apple-faced family.
Mr Dombey had remained in his own apartment since the death of his wife, absorbed in visions of the youth, education, and destination of his baby son. Something lay at the bottom of his cool heart, colder and heavier than its ordinary load; but it was more a sense of the child's loss than his own, awakening within him an almost angry sorrow. That the life and progress on which he built such hopes, should be endangered in the outset by so mean a want; that Dombey and Son should be tottering for a nurse, was a sore humiliation. And yet in his pride and jealousy, he viewed with so much bitterness the thought of being dependent for the very first step towards the accomplishment of his soul's desire, on a hired serving-woman who would be to the child, for the time, all that even his alliance could have made his own wife, that in every new rejection of a candidate he felt a secret pleasure. The time had now come, however, when he could no longer be divided between these two sets of feelings. The less so, as there seemed to be no flaw in the title of Polly Toodle after his sister had set it forth, with many commendations on the indefatigable friendship of Miss Tox.
'These children look healthy,' said Mr Dombey. 'But my God, to think of their some day claiming a sort of relationship to Paul!'
' But what relationship is there!' Louisa began -
'Is there!' echoed Mr Dombey, who had not intended his sister to participate in the thought he had unconsciously expressed. 'Is there, did you say, Louisa!'
'Can there be, I mean - '
'Why none,' said Mr Dombey, sternly. 'The whole world knows that, I presume. Grief has not made me idiotic, Louisa. Take them away, Louisa! Let me see this woman and her husband.'
Mrs Chick bore off the tender pair of Toodles, and presently returned with that tougher couple whose presence her brother had commanded.
'My good woman,' said Mr Dombey, turning round in his easy chair, as one piece, and not as a man with limbs and joints, 'I understand you are poor, and wish to earn money by nursing the little boy, my son, who has been so prematurely deprived of what can never be replaced. I have no objection to your adding to the comforts of your family by that means. So far as I can tell, you seem to be a deserving object. But I must impose one or two conditions on you, before you enter my house in that capacity. While you are here, I must stipulate that you are always known as - say as Richards - an ordinary name, and convenient. Have you any objection to be known as Richards? You had better consult your husband.'
'Well?' said Mr Dombey, after a pretty long pause. 'What does your husband say to your being called Richards?'
As the husband did nothing but chuckle and grin, and continually draw his right hand across his mouth, moistening the palm, Mrs Toodle, after nudging him twice or thrice in vain, dropped a curtsey and replied 'that perhaps if she was to be called out of her name, it would be considered in the wages.'
'Oh, of course,' said Mr Dombey. 'I desire to make it a question of wages, altogether. Now, Richards, if you nurse my bereaved child, I wish you to remember this always. You will receive a liberal stipend in return for the discharge of certain duties, in the performance of which, I wish you to see as little of your family as possible. When those duties cease to be required and rendered, and the stipend ceases to be paid, there is an end of all relations between us. Do you understand me?'
Mrs Toodle seemed doubtful about it; and as to Toodle himself, he had evidently no doubt whatever, that he was all abroad.
'You have children of your own,' said Mr Dombey. 'It is not at all in this bargain that you need become attached to my child, or that my child need become attached to you. I don't expect or desire anything of the kind. Quite the reverse. When you go away from here, you will have concluded what is a mere matter of bargain and sale, hiring and letting: and will stay away. The child will cease to remember you; and you will cease, if you please, to remember the child.'
Mrs Toodle, with a little more colour in her cheeks than she had had before, said 'she hoped she knew her place.'
'I hope you do, Richards,' said Mr Dombey. 'I have no doubt you know it very well. Indeed it is so plain and obvious that it could hardly be otherwise. Louisa, my dear, arrange with Richards about money, and let her have it when and how she pleases. Mr what's-your name, a word with you, if you please!'
Thus arrested on the threshold as he was following his wife out of the room, Toodle returned and confronted Mr Dombey alone. He was a strong, loose, round-shouldered, shuffling, shaggy fellow, on whom his clothes sat negligently: with a good deal of hair and whisker, deepened in its natural tint, perhaps by smoke and coal-dust: hard knotty hands: and a square forehead, as coarse in grain as the bark of an oak. A thorough contrast in all respects, to Mr Dombey, who was one of those close-shaved close-cut moneyed gentlemen who are glossy and crisp like new bank-notes, and who seem to be artificially braced and tightened as by the stimulating action of golden showerbaths.
'You have a son, I believe?' said Mr Dombey.
'Four on 'em, Sir. Four hims and a her. All alive!'
'Why, it's as much as you can afford to keep them!' said Mr Dombey.
'I couldn't hardly afford but one thing in the world less, Sir.'
'What is that?'
'To lose 'em, Sir.'
'Can you read?' asked Mr Dombey.
'Why, not partick'ler, Sir.'
'Write?'
'With chalk, Sir?'
'With anything?'
'I could make shift to chalk a little bit, I think, if I was put to it,' said Toodle after some reflection.
'And yet,' said Mr Dombey, 'you are two or three and thirty, I suppose?'
'Thereabouts, I suppose, Sir,' answered Toodle, after more reflection
'Then why don't you learn?' asked Mr Dombey.
'So I'm a going to, Sir. One of my little boys is a going to learn me, when he's old enough, and been to school himself.'
'Well,' said Mr Dombey, after looking at him attentively, and with no great favour, as he stood gazing round the room (principally round the ceiling) and still drawing his hand across and across his mouth. 'You heard what I said to your wife just now?'
'Polly heerd it,' said Toodle, jerking his hat over his shoulder in the direction of the door, with an air of perfect confidence in his better half. 'It's all right.'
'But I ask you if you heard it. You did, I suppose, and understood it?' pursued Mr Dombey.
'I heerd it,' said Toodle, 'but I don't know as I understood it rightly Sir, 'account of being no scholar, and the words being - ask your pardon - rayther high. But Polly heerd it. It's all right.'
'As you appear to leave everything to her,' said Mr Dombey, frustrated in his intention of impressing his views still more distinctly on the husband, as the stronger character, 'I suppose it is of no use my saying anything to you.'
'Not a bit,' said Toodle. 'Polly heerd it. She's awake, Sir.'
'I won't detain you any longer then,' returned Mr Dombey, disappointed. 'Where have you worked all your life?'
'Mostly underground, Sir, 'till I got married. I come to the level then. I'm a going on one of these here railroads when they comes into full play.'
As he added in one of his hoarse whispers, 'We means to bring up little Biler to that line,' Mr Dombey inquired haughtily who little Biler was.
'The eldest on 'em, Sir,' said Toodle, with a smile. 'It ain't a common name. Sermuchser that when he was took to church the gen'lm'n said, it wam't a chris'en one, and he couldn't give it. But we always calls him Biler just the same. For we don't mean no harm. Not we.
'Do you mean to say, Man,' inquired Mr Dombey; looking at him with marked displeasure, 'that you have called a child after a boiler?'
'No, no, Sir,' returned Toodle, with a tender consideration for his mistake. 'I should hope not! No, Sir. Arter a BILER Sir. The Steamingine was a'most as good as a godfather to him, and so we called him Biler, don't you see!'
As the last straw breaks the laden camel's back, this piece of information crushed the sinking spirits of Mr Dombey. He motioned his child's foster-father to the door, who departed by no means unwillingly: and then turning the key, paced up and down the room in solitary wretchedness.
It would be harsh, and perhaps not altogether true, to say of him that he felt these rubs and gratings against his pride more keenly than he had felt his wife's death: but certainly they impressed that event upon him with new force, and communicated to it added weight and bitterness. It was a rude shock to his sense of property in his child, that these people - the mere dust of the earth, as he thought them - should be necessary to him; and it was natural that in proportion as he felt disturbed by it, he should deplore the occurrence which had made them so. For all his starched, impenetrable dignity and composure, he wiped blinding tears from his eyes as he paced up and down his room; and often said, with an emotion of which he would not, for the world, have had a witness, 'Poor little fellow!'
It may have been characteristic of Mr Dombey's pride, that he pitied himself through the child. Not poor me. Not poor widower, confiding by constraint in the wife of an ignorant Hind who has been working 'mostly underground' all his life, and yet at whose door Death had never knocked, and at whose poor table four sons daily sit - but poor little fellow!
Those words being on his lips, it occurred to him - and it is an instance of the strong attraction with which his hopes and fears and all his thoughts were tending to one centre - that a great temptation was being placed in this woman's way. Her infant was a boy too. Now, would it be possIble for her to change them?
Though he was soon satisfied that he had dismissed the idea as romantic and unlikely - though possible, there was no denying - he could not help pursuing it so far as to entertain within himself a picture of what his condition would be, if he should discover such an imposture when he was grown old. Whether a man so situated would be able to pluck away the result of so many years of usage, confidence, and belief, from the impostor, and endow a stranger with it?
But it was idle speculating thus. It couldn't happen. In a moment afterwards he determined that it could, but that such women were constantly observed, and had no opportunity given them for the accomplishment of such a design, even when they were so wicked as to entertain it. In another moment, he was remembering how few such cases seemed to have ever happened. In another moment he was wondering whether they ever happened and were not found out.
As his unusual emotion subsided, these misgivings gradually melted away, though so much of their shadow remained behind, that he was constant in his resolution to look closely after Richards himself, without appearing to do so. Being now in an easier frame of mind, he regarded the woman's station as rather an advantageous circumstance than otherwise, by placing, in itself, a broad distance between her and the child, and rendering their separation easy and natural. Thence he passed to the contemplation of the future glories of Dombey and Son, and dismissed the memory of his wife, for the time being, with a tributary sigh or two.
Meanwhile terms were ratified and agreed upon between Mrs Chick and Richards, with the assistance of Miss Tox; and Richards being with much ceremony invested with the Dombey baby, as if it were an Order, resigned her own, with many tears and kisses, to Jemima. Glasses of wine were then produced, to sustain the drooping spirits of the family; and Miss Tox, busying herself in dispensing 'tastes' to the younger branches, bred them up to their father's business with such surprising expedition, that she made chokers of four of them in a quarter of a minute.
'You'll take a glass yourself, Sir, won't you?' said Miss Tox, as Toodle appeared.
'Thankee, Mum,' said Toodle, 'since you are suppressing.'
'And you're very glad to leave your dear good wife in such a comfortable home, ain't you, Sir?'said Miss Tox, nodding and winking at him stealthily.
'No, Mum,' said Toodle. 'Here's wishing of her back agin.'
Polly cried more than ever at this. So Mrs Chick, who had her matronly apprehensions that this indulgence in grief might be prejudicial to the little Dombey ('acid, indeed,' she whispered Miss Tox), hastened to the rescue.
'Your little child will thrive charmingly with your sister Jemima, Richards,' said Mrs Chick; 'and you have only to make an effort - this is a world of effort, you know, Richards - to be very happy indeed. You have been already measured for your mourning, haven't you, Richards?'
'Ye - es, Ma'am,' sobbed Polly.
'And it'll fit beautifully. I know,' said Mrs Chick, 'for the same young person has made me many dresses. The very best materials, too!'
'Lor, you'll be so smart,' said Miss Tox, 'that your husband won't know you; will you, Sir?'
'I should know her,' said Toodle, gruffly, 'anyhows and anywheres.'
Toodle was evidently not to be bought over.
'As to living, Richards, you know,' pursued Mrs Chick, 'why, the very best of everything will be at your disposal. You will order your little dinner every day; and anything you take a fancy to, I'm sure will be as readily provided as if you were a Lady.'
'Yes to be sure!' said Miss Tox, keeping up the ball with great sympathy. 'And as to porter! - quite unlimited, will it not, Louisa?'
'Oh, certainly!' returned Mrs Chick in the same tone. 'With a little abstinence, you know, my dear, in point of vegetables.'
'And pickles, perhaps,' suggested Miss Tox.
'With such exceptions,' said Louisa, 'she'll consult her choice entirely, and be under no restraint at all, my love.'
'And then, of course, you know,' said Miss Tox, 'however fond she is of her own dear little child - and I'm sure, Louisa, you don't blame her for being fond of it?'
'Oh no!' cried Mrs Chick, benignantly.
'Still,' resumed Miss Tox, 'she naturally must be interested in her young charge, and must consider it a privilege to see a little cherub connected with the superior classes, gradually unfolding itself from day to day at one common fountain- is it not so, Louisa?'
'Most undoubtedly!' said Mrs Chick. 'You see, my love, she's already quite contented and comfortable, and means to say goodbye to her sister Jemima and her little pets, and her good honest husband, with a light heart and a smile; don't she, my dear?'
'Oh yes!' cried Miss Tox. 'To be sure she does!'
Notwithstanding which, however, poor Polly embraced them all round in great distress, and coming to her spouse at last, could not make up her mind to part from him, until he gently disengaged himself, at the close of the following allegorical piece of consolation:
'Polly, old 'ooman, whatever you do, my darling, hold up your head and fight low. That's the only rule as I know on, that'll carry anyone through life. You always have held up your head and fought low, Polly. Do it now, or Bricks is no longer so. God bless you, Polly! Me and J'mima will do your duty by you; and with relating to your'n, hold up your head and fight low, Polly, and you can't go wrong!'
Fortified by this golden secret, Folly finally ran away to avoid any more particular leave-taking between herself and the children. But the stratagem hardly succeeded as well as it deserved; for the smallest boy but one divining her intent, immediately began swarming upstairs after her - if that word of doubtful etymology be admissible - on his arms and legs; while the eldest (known in the family by the name of Biler, in remembrance of the steam engine) beat a demoniacal tattoo with his boots, expressive of grief; in which he was joined by the rest of the family.
A quantity of oranges and halfpence thrust indiscriminately on each young Toodle, checked the first violence of their regret, and the family were speedily transported to their own home, by means of the hackney-coach kept in waiting for that purpose. The children, under the guardianship of Jemima, blocked up the window, and dropped out oranges and halfpence all the way along. Mr Toodle himself preferred to ride behind among the spikes, as being the mode of conveyance to which he was best accustomed.
 
在管理得极好的家庭中有时是会发生这种突然事件的
“我说过，”奇克夫人说道，“对可怜的亲爱的范妮我一切都宽恕了，这一点我将永远感到庆幸；那时候我根本没有预料到将会发生什么事情，那时候我确实仿佛是得到了什么灵感似的。不论怎么样，这句话对我来说永远是一个安慰！”
奇克夫人这些令人难忘的话是她在楼上监视女衣裁缝忙着给这个家庭缝制丧服之后，下到客厅里的时候说的。她发表这些意见是为了点拨奇克先生而说给他听的。奇克先生是一位肥壮的、秃顶的先生，脸很大，两只手老插在衣袋里，生性爱吹口哨和哼曲子；他知道，在一个沉浸在悲痛气氛的家庭里发出这种声音是不合礼节的，所以现在正竭力克制着自己。
“别操劳过度了，路，”奇克先生说道，“要不然你就会发生痉挛而卧床不起了！托鲁鲁！托鲁鲁！哎呀，我忘了！我们今天还在这个世界上，明天就可能一命呜呼了！”
奇克夫人责备地看了他一眼，也就罢了，然后接着刚才的话头，继续说下去。
“说实在的，”她说道，“我希望，发生了这件令人伤心的事情，对我们大家来说将是个警告：我们必须习惯于振作起精神，而且当需要的时候，我们就必须及时作出努力。只要我们善于吸取，从每一件事情中都可以吸取教训。如果我们现在看不到这个教训的话，那么这将是我们自己的过错。”
在这番议论发表之后，随之而来的是肃静无声，但奇克先生哼了一个非常不适宜的曲子《有一个补鞋匠》，因此就把它打破了；他有些慌乱地纠正了自己之后说，如果我们不利用这种悲伤的机会来吸取一些教训的话，那么这将无疑是我们自己的过错。
“我想，奇克先生，”他的妻子在短时间的沉默之后，回答道，“如果你不去哼《学院号角》或不去哼‘拉姆特伊迪替，波乌乌’之类同样没有意义、没有感情的曲调的话，那么就可以更好地利用这个机会了。”——奇克先生确实压低了嗓子哼着那些曲调取乐，奇克夫人则用无比轻蔑的声调重复地哼着它们。
“这不过是习惯罢了，我亲爱的，”奇克先生辩护道。
“胡扯！习惯！”他的妻子回答道，“如果你是个有理性的动物，你就别作出这样可笑的辩解。习惯！如果我得了一个像你所说的习惯，像苍蝇一样在天花板上走来走去，那么我想我对这就会听够了。”
看来这个习惯很可能在一定程度上会带来不好的名声，所以奇克先生不敢再进行争辩。
“婴孩怎么样了，路？”奇克先生改变话题，说道。
“你说的是哪个婴孩？”奇克夫人反问道，“说实在的，头脑健全的人谁也不会相信，今天早上我在楼下餐厅里见到了一大群婴孩。”
“一大群婴孩？”奇克先生重复道，一边露出惊慌的神色，张大眼睛，向四周环视着。
“大多数的男子都会想到，”奇克夫人说道，“因为可怜的亲爱的范妮已经不在了，这样就有必要去物色一个奶妈。”
“哦！啊！”奇克先生说道，“托—鲁—我要说，这就是生活。我希望你已物色到一个中意的，我亲爱的。”
“我确实没有物色到一个中意的，”奇克夫人说道，“照我看，也不大可能物色到了。当然，在这期间，这孩子——”
“将见鬼去了，”奇克先生若有所思地说道，“一定的。”
可是奇克夫人一听见他们董贝家里的一个人竟会去到那里去时，脸上露出的愤怒的神色警告他，他已犯了一个大错误。为了补救他的过失，他就提出了一个巧妙的建议，说道：
“难道不能临时用茶壶来喂奶吗？”
如果他有意赶快结束这个话题的话，那么他不可能比这取得更大的成功了。奇克夫人默不作声，无可奈何地看了他一会儿之后，辚辚的车轮声吸引了她的注意，她就威风凛凛地走到窗前，通过百叶窗向外窥视。奇克先生觉得现在命运跟他作对，于是不再说什么，就走出房间去了。不过奇克先生的情况并不总是这样的。他常常占据优势，在这种时候他就严厉地惩罚路易莎。他们在夫妻争吵中总的来说是旗鼓相当，势均力敌，针锋相对的一对。一般说来，很难打赌说，谁一定会赢。时常当奇克先生似乎已被打败了的时候，他会突然发动反攻，扭转局势，在奇克夫人的耳边耀武扬威，终于大获全胜。由于他本人同样也可能遭到奇克夫人的突然袭击，所以他们的小吵小闹通常具有变化不定的特色。这是很富有生气的。
托克斯小姐乘着我们刚刚提到的车子来到，气喘吁吁地跑进房间。
“我亲爱的路易莎，”托克斯小姐说道，“是不是还没有找到奶妈？”
“还没有呢，我的好人儿，”奇克夫人说道。
“那么，我亲爱的路易莎，”托克斯小姐回答道，“我希望，并且相信——不过，等一会儿，我亲爱的，我将把当事人，介绍给您。”
托克斯小姐像跑上楼来一样快地跑下楼去，把当事人从出租马车中扶出，并立刻护送着回到楼上。
原来她并不是按照法律上或商业上的意义来使用当事人这个词（在这种场合，这个词只表示一个人），而是把它作为一个群体名词来使用的，也就是说，它是表示许多人的。因为托克斯小姐护送来的是：一位肥胖的、脸颊红润的、身体健全的、脸长得像苹果一样的年轻女人，手中抱着一个婴孩；一位不那么肥胖，但脸也像苹果一样的年纪较轻的女人，她每只手中牵着一个肥胖的、脸像苹果一样的孩子；另外一位肥胖的、脸也像苹果一样的男孩子，他自己走路；最后，一位肥胖的、脸像苹果一样的男子，他手中抱着另一个肥胖的、脸像苹果一样的男孩子；他把这男孩子放到地上，用干哑的声音低声吩咐道；“抓住约翰尼哥哥。”
“我亲爱的路易莎，”托克斯小姐说道，“我知道您万分焦急，并希望让您放心，所以我就急匆匆地动身到夏洛特皇后的皇家已婚妇女收容所去（您已忘记它了），问她们那里有没有合适的人？他们说，她们那里没有；当她们这样回答我的时候，亲爱的，说真的，我都几乎要为您陷于绝望了。可是碰巧皇家已婚妇女收容所里的一个人听到我提出的问题，就向所长提醒说，有一位现在已经回家的女人十之八九是能满足要求的。我听了这些话，从所长那里又得到证实——她有极好的推荐信，又有无可指责的品格——，于是就立刻查得了地址，我亲爱的，我又急匆匆地出发了。”
“您一向是这样热心、善良，我亲爱的托克斯！”路易莎说道。
“哪里，”托克斯小姐回答道。“别这么说。我到达了她的家（那是极为干净的地方，我亲爱的！您可以在地板上吃饭），发现全家人正坐桌边；我觉得我向您和董贝先生不管怎么说，也远不如让你们亲眼看一看他们全家人更能使你们放心，所以我就把他们全都带来了。这位先生，”托克斯小姐指着那位脸像苹果一样的男子说，“是父亲。劳驾您能往前站一点儿，好吗，先生？”
那位脸像苹果一样的男子羞怯地听从了这个请求，站在第一排，露出牙齿，吃吃地笑着。
“这当然是他的妻子罗，”托克斯小姐指着那位抱婴孩的女人，说道，“您好吗，波利？”
“我很好，谢谢您，夫人，”波利说道。
为了巧妙地介绍她，托克斯小姐发问的时候，就仿佛是对待一位她只有两个星期没见面的老熟人似的。
“听您这么说我感到很高兴，”托克斯小姐说道，“另外那一位姑娘是她还没有出嫁的妹妹，她跟他们住在一起，照看她的孩子。她的名字叫杰迈玛。您好吗，杰迈玛？”
“我很好，谢谢您，夫人，”杰迈玛回答道。
“听您这么说我感到很高兴，”托克斯小姐说道，“我希望您将一直和现在一样。五个孩子。最小的只六个星期。那个可爱的、鼻子上有一个水疱的小男孩是最大的孩子。我想那水疱，”托克斯小姐向全家人看了一眼，说道，“不是由于体质上的原因，而是由于意外事故产生的吧？”
只听见那位脸像苹果一样的男子粗声粗气地说道，“熨斗”。
“对不起，先生，我没听清楚，”托克斯小姐说道，“您是说？——”
“熨斗，”他重复说道。
“啊对了，”托克斯小姐说道，“对了，完全正确。我忘记了。这小家伙当他母亲不在的时候，去闻了一下发烫的熨斗。您说得一点也不错，先生。当我们到达这个房屋门口的时候，承蒙您的好意，您正要告诉我，您的职业是——”
“司炉。”
“杀骡？”托克斯小姐十分吃惊地说道。
“司炉，”那男子说道，“蒸汽机。”
“啊，是的！”托克斯小姐答道，一边若有所思地望着他，似乎还很不完全了解他的意思。
“您喜欢它吗，先生？”
“什么，夫人？”那男子问道。
“就是那，”托克斯小姐回答道，“您的职业。”
“啊，挺喜欢的，夫人。灰有时跑进这里，”他指一指胸膛，“它使人的声音粗哑，就像我现在这样。但这是由于灰，而不是由于脾气粗暴造成的。”
这个回答似乎没有使托克斯小姐听得更明白，因此她觉得难于把这个话题继续谈下去。但是奇克夫人这时帮了她的忙，她对波利、她的孩子们、她的结婚证书、推荐书等等进行了仔细的审查。波利安全无恙地通过了这个严峻的考验之后，奇克夫人就离开客厅，到她哥哥的房间去，向他报告；为了使好的报告有一个生动的注释和有力的证明，她把脸颊最红润的两位小图德尔一道带了去。脸像苹果一样的这一家人姓图德尔。
董贝先生自从妻子逝世以后一直没有走出他自己的房间，而在专心一意地幻想着他的还是婴孩的儿子的青年、教育与今后的前程。有个什么东西压在他的冷淡的心底，比它通常的分量更重，也更冷；但这主要是他感觉到他的儿子遭受了损失，倒不是他感觉到他自己遭受了损失；这种感觉在他心中引起了一种几乎是愤怒的懊丧。他寄托着这样重大希望的一个人的生命与发展竟在一开始的时候就由于缺少这样区区一位小人物而遭到危险；董贝父子公司竟会由于一位奶妈的缘故而摇摇欲坠，这是件令人痛苦的屈辱的事情。他怀着高傲与妒嫉的心情，十分苦恼地想到，完成他所怀抱的理想的第一步竟取决于一位被雇佣的女仆人，这位女仆人对他的孩子来说将暂时成为一切，甚至是他通过结婚，使他自己的妻子所能做到的一切，因此每当一位新的候选人被拒绝的时候，他心里都会暗暗地感到高兴。然而现在，他不能再在这两种不同的感情中徘徊不决的时候来到了，特别是，当他妹妹一边对托克斯小姐的不知疲倦的友谊说了许多称赞的话，报告了波利•图德尔所具备的条件，从这些条件中似乎找不到什么缺点的时候，就更需要他作出决定了。
“这些孩子看去是健康的，”董贝先生说道，“但是想一想他们有朝一日要求来跟保罗攀扯什么亲戚关系吧！把他们领走，路易莎，让我看看这位女人和她的丈夫。”
奇克夫人把这两位皮肤娇嫩的图德尔领走，按照她哥哥的吩咐，很快又把两位皮肤粗糙一些的图德尔领回来。
“您这位善良的女人，”董贝先生说道，他整个身体在安乐椅子中转动着，好像他没有四肢与关节似的，“我知道您家境清寒，希望给这个小男孩，我的儿子喂奶来挣点钱，这孩子过早地被夺去了永远也不能代替的人。我不反对您采用这种方法使您的家庭富裕一些。根据我的判断，您似乎是一位合适的对象。但是在您到我的家里担任这个职务之前，我必须向您提出一两条您必须遵守的条件。当您在我家里的时候，我必须规定大家一直用一个普通的、便于称呼的姓，比方说理查兹来称呼您。您反对大家管您叫理查兹吗？您最好跟您丈夫商量一下。”
由于她的丈夫除了咧开嘴吃吃地笑，并不断地伸出右手捂着嘴，使手掌潮湿一些之外，什么话也没有说，图德尔大嫂用胳膊肘轻轻地推了他两三次也是徒劳无效，因此她就行了个屈膝礼，回答道，如果在这里需要改换个姓来称呼她的话，那么在给她定工资的时候，请把这一点也考虑进去。“当然，”董贝先生说道，“我希望把这完全作为一个工资问题来考虑。现在，理查兹，如果您要给我这个失去母亲的孩子当奶妈的话，那么我希望您永远记住下面的一些话：您在履行了一定的职责之后，将会领到一笔丰厚的报酬；在您担任职务期间，我希望您尽量少去看望您的家庭。当不再需要您履行这些职责，不再向您支付报酬的时候，我们之间的一切关系就都结束了。您明白我的话了吗？”
图德尔大嫂似乎对这有些疑问，至于图德尔本人，他显然没有丝毫疑问，因为他根本莫名其妙。
“您有您自己的孩子，”董贝先生说，“在我们的这个交易中，您根本不需要爱上我的孩子。我的孩子也不需要爱上您。我不希望，也不愿意看见这一类事情。恰恰相反，当您离开这里的时候，您就结束了这纯粹是买与卖、雇佣与辞退的交易关系，然后您就到别的地方去住。孩子就不再记得您。您如果愿意，也可以不再记得孩子。”
图德尔大嫂的脸颊比先前更红了一些，说，她希望她明白自己的身份。
“我希望您明白，理查兹，”董贝先生说道，“我毫不怀疑，您清清楚楚地明白这一点。确实，这是明明白白，显而易见的事情，不可能是相反的情况。路易莎，我亲爱的，请你把有关钱的事情跟理查兹安排一下，让她在她认为合适的时候和按她愿意的方式领去。您这位叫什么的先生，如果您愿意，我想跟您谈一两句话。”
当图德尔跟着他的妻子正要走出房间的时候，他就这样在门口被喊住了。他走回来，单独面对着董贝先生。他是个身强力壮、自由散漫、后背驼曲、行动笨拙、毛发蓬松的人，他的衣服随随便便地搭在身上；头发和连鬓胡子又长又密，也许由于烟与煤粉的关系，比自然的颜色更为浓黑；手上长着厚茧和好多疖疤；方方的前额，上面的纹理就像树皮一样粗糙。他与董贝先生在所有方面都形成了鲜明的对照：董贝先生是位胡子刮得干干净净、头发剪得整整齐齐、钱财富有的上流社会人士，像崭新的钞票一样富有光泽，清脆有声；他似乎经过黄金淋浴这个使人激励精神的行动之后，已经被人为地绷紧和振奋起来了。
“我想您有一个儿子吧？”董贝先生问道。
“有四个，先生。四个小子，一个闺女，全都活着！”
“唔，您把他们全养下来了，总算还经受得起！”董贝先生说道。
“在这世界上我有一件事经受不起，先生。”
“什么事？”
“失去他们，先生。”
“您能念书吗？”董贝先生问道。
“唔，勉勉强强能念一点儿，先生。”
“写字呢？”
“用粉笔吗，先生？”
“不论用什么。”
“我想，如果非要我写不行的话，那么我也能用粉笔对付着写一点儿，”图德尔沉思了一会儿，说道。
“不过，”董贝先生说道，“我想，您今年已有三十二、三岁了吧？”
“我想，大概是这么个岁数，先生，”图德尔比刚才沉思得长久一些之后，说道。
“那么您为什么不学习呢？”董贝先生问道。
“是的，我准备学，先生。我有一个小男孩，等他长大上学以后，他将会教我。”
“唔，”董贝先生聚精会神地对他注视之后说道；他对他没有产生很大的好感，因为他站在那里，眼睛在房间里四处张望（主要是在天花板上溜来溜去），同时依旧不时抽出手来捂着嘴巴哈气。
“我刚才对您妻子说的话，您听到了吗？”
“波利听到了，”图德尔把帽子越过肩膀朝门口的方向猛地一挥，露出对他那口子完全信任的神气。“一切都很好。”
“既然看来您一切都由她作主，”董贝先生原以为丈夫是家庭中更有力的人物，本打算把他的意见对他说得更加明确，以便加深他的印象，但却没有成功，就说道，“我想用不着再对您说什么了。”
“什么也不用说，”图德尔说道，“波利听到了。她没有打盹儿，先生。”
“这么说，我不想再留您了，”董贝先生失望地回答道。
“您过去在哪里工作？”
“过去大部分时间是在地下，先生，直到我结婚以后才到地面上来。这里修建了铁路，通车以后我就在一条铁路上工作。”
就像最后一根稻草把满负重载的骆驼的背压断一样，图德尔曾经在地下工作过的这个信息使董贝先生的情绪再也支撑不下去了。他向他儿子奶妈的丈夫指了指房门，于是图德尔没有一点不愿意的样子，离开了这个房间。然后，董贝先生把钥匙转了一下，锁上了门，独自一人在房间里可怜地踱着步子。虽然他古板和固执地保持着尊严与镇静，可是他还是抹去了使他眼睛变得模糊的泪水，怀着他决不愿意在别人面前显露出来的情绪，不时说道，“可怜的小家伙！”
董贝先生通过他的孩子来可怜自己，这可能是他高傲的特色。不是“可怜的我！”，不是“可怜的鳏夫！”——这个鳏夫迫不得已，只好去信赖一位乡巴佬的妻子，这位乡巴佬毫无知识，过去“大部分时间是在地下”工作，可是死神却从没有去叩过他的门，他的四个孩子们每天都坐在他的贫穷的餐桌旁——，而是“可怜的小家伙！”
当他嘴里正说着这几个字的时候，他心里想到，在这位女人的道路上正摆着一个巨大的诱惑物，她的婴孩也是一个男孩。她是不是可能把他们相互调换一下呢？——这一个例子正好说明：有一个强大的吸引力正把他的希望与恐惧以及他的全部思想都吸引到一个中心。
虽然不久他就认为这是个荒唐古怪、不大可能（当然不可否认，也有可能）的想法，把它打消了，因而心里也安定下来了，可是他却情不自禁地沿着这个思路继续想下去，以至于在心中构思出这样一幅图景：如果当他年老的时候发现了这样一个骗局的话，那么他将会是怎样一种状况呢？在这种情况下，一个人是不是能把由于多年相处所产生的信任与宠爱从这个冒名顶替者的身上除去，然后把它们倾注到一位陌生人的身上呢？
当他这不寻常的情绪平息下来之后，这些顾虑也就逐渐消散了，虽然也留下了好些阴影，因此他决定不让别人看出，由他亲自来密切监视理查兹。当他现在心情比较轻松一些的时候，他认为这女人的社会地位反而是一种有利的情况，因为它本身在她与孩子之间就隔开了一道宽阔的距离，因此他们今后相互疏远将会是容易和自然的。
在同一段时间内，在托克斯小姐的帮助下，奇克夫人与理查兹达成并签订了协议；在隆重的仪式下，婴孩董贝像一枚勋章似地授给了理查兹；她又伴随着许多眼泪与亲吻，把她自己的婴孩交托给杰迈玛。在这之后，端来了一杯杯的酒，用来支撑这家人的低沉的情绪。
“您喝一杯好吗，先生？”当图德尔回来之后，托克斯小姐说道。
“谢谢您，夫人，”图德尔说道，“既然您非要我喝不可。”
“您把您亲爱的善良的妻子留在这么舒适的家庭里，您很高兴吧，先生？”托克斯小姐偷偷地向他点点头，眨巴眨巴眼睛。
“不，夫人，”图德尔说道，“我喝这杯酒，祝她早些重新回到家里来。”
波利听到这话，哭得更厉害了。奇克夫人有她当家庭主妇的忧虑，生怕这样放纵地悲伤会对小董贝不利（“真酸，”
她对托克斯小姐说道），所以急忙进行抢救。
“在您的妹妹杰迈玛的照料下，您的小孩一定会很可爱地茁壮成长的，理查兹，”奇克夫人说道，“只是您必须作出努力，使自己高高兴兴才是；理查兹，您知道，这是个必须作出努力的世界。您已经量过您丧服的尺寸了吧，是不是，理查兹？”
“是—是的，夫人，”波利抽抽嗒嗒地哭着。
“您穿起来一定很漂亮，我知道，”奇克夫人说道，“这位年轻人给我做过许多衣服。这是用最好的布料做的！”
“天主啊，您将会漂漂亮亮，”托克斯小姐说道，“您的丈夫都将会认不出您来了，是不是，先生？”
“我一定认得出她，”图德尔态度生硬地说道，“不论在什么情况下，也不论在什么地方。”
图德尔显然是收买不了的。
“至于您的生活，理查兹，您知道，”奇克夫人继续说道，“所有最好的东西都将供您随便使用。您每天定您自己的饭菜；毫无疑问，您想要什么，什么就会立刻提供到您的面前，仿佛您是一位贵夫人似的。”
“是的，确实是这样！”托克斯小姐怀着极大的同情，接过话头，继续说下去，“至于黑啤酒，那数量是无限的，是不是，路易莎？”
“啊，当然的！”奇克夫人用同样的声调回答道。“您知道，我亲爱的，只是蔬菜的数量稍稍有些节制。”
“也许还有酸菜，”托克斯小姐提示道。
“除了这些例外，”路易莎说道，“她完全可以按照自己的口味来选择食物，丝毫没有限制，我亲爱的。”
“然后，当然，您知道，”托克斯小姐说道，“不论她对自己亲生的小孩子是多么喜爱——毫无疑问，路易莎，您不会责怪她喜爱他吧？”
“啊，不会！”奇克夫人仁慈地喊道。
“可是，”托克斯小姐继续说道，“她自然应该关心现在交给她抚养的年幼的孩子，应该认为，眼看着一个与上流社会密切联系着的小天使一天天地从一个共同的源泉中吸取养料，成长起来，这是一种特殊的荣幸；是不是这样，路易莎？”
“完全不错！”奇克夫人说道，“您看，我亲爱的，她已经很满意、很安心了，现在正怀着轻松的心情，露出微笑，想要跟她的妹妹杰迈玛和她的小宝贝们，还有她的善良的、诚实的丈夫告别呢，是不是，我亲爱的？”
“啊，是的！”托克斯小姐喊道，“当然是的！”
可是尽管这样，可怜的波利还是十分悲痛地和他们一一拥抱；最后，为了避免她和孩子们更加恋恋不舍地告别，她跑开了。可是这个策略没有取得应有的成功；因为第二个最小的孩子看穿了她的意图，立即开始手脚全都着地地跟着她往楼上爬（如果可以使用这个语源有疑义的词的话）；最大的孩子（大家在家中都管他叫拜勒①，来纪念蒸汽机）用靴子在地上咚咚地敲出疯狂般的响声来表示悲伤；家中其他的人也一起参加到他的行动中去。
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①拜勒（Biler）：为boiler（锅炉）的误读。
许许多多的桔子和半便士不加区别地塞到了每个小图德尔的手中，这抑制了他们头一阵迸发出来的极度悲痛；一辆专门为了这个目的等待着的出租马车很快就把全家人送往他们的家中。一路上，在杰迈玛的守护下，孩子们拥挤在车窗口，把桔子和半便士往外扔。图德尔先生宁肯乘坐在火车后面的道钉中间（这是他极为习惯的运输方式），而不愿意像现在这样乘坐在马车中。
Chapter 3
In which Mr Dombey, as a Man and a Father, is seen at the Head of the Home-Department
The funeral of the deceased lady having been 'performed to the entire satisfaction of the undertaker, as well as of the neighbourhood at large, which is generally disposed to be captious on such a point, and is prone to take offence at any omissions or short-comings in the ceremonies, the various members of Mr Dombey's household subsided into their several places in the domestic system. That small world, like the great one out of doors, had the capacity of easily forgetting its dead; and when the cook had said she was a quiet-tempered lady, and the house-keeper had said it was the common lot, and the butler had said who'd have thought it, and the housemaid had said she couldn't hardly believe it, and the footman had said it seemed exactly like a dream, they had quite worn the subject out, and began to think their mourning was wearing rusty too.
On Richards, who was established upstairs in a state of honourable captivity, the dawn of her new life seemed to break cold and grey. Mr Dombey's house was a large one, on the shady side of a tall, dark, dreadfully genteel street in the region between Portland Place and Bryanstone Square.' It was a corner house, with great wide areas containing cellars frowned upon by barred windows, and leered at by crooked-eyed doors leading to dustbins. It was a house of dismal state, with a circular back to it, containing a whole suite of drawing-rooms looking upon a gravelled yard, where two gaunt trees, with blackened trunks and branches, rattled rather than rustled, their leaves were so smoked-dried. The summer sun was never on the street, but in the morning about breakfast-time, when it came with the water-carts and the old clothes men, and the people with geraniums, and the umbrella-mender, and the man who trilled the little bell of the Dutch clock as he went along. It was soon gone again to return no more that day; and the bands of music and the straggling Punch's shows going after it, left it a prey to the most dismal of organs, and white mice; with now and then a porcupine, to vary the entertainments; until the butlers whose families were dining out, began to stand at the house-doors in the twilight, and the lamp-lighter made his nightly failure in attempting to brighten up the street with gas.
It was as blank a house inside as outside. When the funeral was over, Mr Dombey ordered the furniture to be covered up - perhaps to preserve it for the son with whom his plans were all associated - and the rooms to be ungarnished, saving such as he retained for himself on the ground floor. Accordingly, mysterious shapes were made of tables and chairs, heaped together in the middle of rooms, and covered over with great winding-sheets. Bell-handles, window-blinds, and looking-glasses, being papered up in journals, daily and weekly, obtruded fragmentary accounts of deaths and dreadful murders. Every chandelier or lustre, muffled in holland, looked like a monstrous tear depending from the ceiling's eye. Odours, as from vaults and damp places, came out of the chimneys. The dead and buried lady was awful in a picture-frame of ghastly bandages. Every gust of wind that rose, brought eddying round the corner from the neighbouring mews, some fragments of the straw that had been strewn before the house when she was ill, mildewed remains of which were still cleaving to the neighbourhood: and these, being always drawn by some invisible attraction to the threshold of the dirty house to let immediately opposite, addressed a dismal eloquence to Mr Dombey's windows.
The apartments which Mr Dombey reserved for his own inhabiting, were attainable from the hall, and consisted of a sitting-room; a library, which was in fact a dressing-room, so that the smell of hot-pressed paper, vellum, morocco, and Russia leather, contended in it with the smell of divers pairs of boots; and a kind of conservatory or little glass breakfast-room beyond, commanding a prospect of the trees before mentioned, and, generally speaking, of a few prowling cats. These three rooms opened upon one another. In the morning, when Mr Dombey was at his breakfast in one or other of the two first-mentioned of them, as well as in the afternoon when he came home to dinner, a bell was rung for Richards to repair to this glass chamber, and there walk to and fro with her young charge. From the glimpses she caught of Mr Dombey at these times, sitting in the dark distance, looking out towards the infant from among the dark heavy furniture - the house had been inhabited for years by his father, and in many of its appointments was old-fashioned and grim - she began to entertain ideas of him in his solitary state, as if he were a lone prisoner in a cell, or a strange apparition that was not to be accosted or understood. Mr Dombey came to be, in the course of a few days, invested in his own person, to her simple thinking, with all the mystery and gloom of his house. As she walked up and down the glass room, or sat hushing the baby there - which she very often did for hours together, when the dusk was closing in, too - she would sometimes try to pierce the gloom beyond, and make out how he was looking and what he was doing. Sensible that she was plainly to be seen by him' however, she never dared to pry in that direction but very furtively and for a moment at a time. Consequently she made out nothing, and Mr Dombey in his den remained a very shade.
Little Paul Dombey's foster-mother had led this life herself, and had carried little Paul through it for some weeks; and had returned upstairs one day from a melancholy saunter through the dreary rooms of state (she never went out without Mrs Chick, who called on fine mornings, usually accompanied by Miss Tox, to take her and Baby for an airing - or in other words, to march them gravely up and down the pavement, like a walking funeral); when, as she was sitting in her own room, the door was slowly and quietly opened, and a dark-eyed little girl looked in.
'It's Miss Florence come home from her aunt's, no doubt,' thought Richards, who had never seen the child before. 'Hope I see you well, Miss.'
'Is that my brother?' asked the child, pointing to the Baby.
'Yes, my pretty,' answered Richards. 'Come and kiss him.'
But the child, instead of advancing, looked her earnestly in the face, and said:
'What have you done with my Mama?'
'Lord bless the little creeter!' cried Richards, 'what a sad question! I done? Nothing, Miss.'
'What have they done with my Mama?' inquired the child, with exactly the same look and manner.
'I never saw such a melting thing in all my life!' said Richards, who naturally substituted 'for this child one of her own, inquiring for herself in like circumstances. 'Come nearer here, my dear Miss! Don't be afraid of me.'
'I am not afraid of you,' said the child, drawing nearer. 'But I want to know what they have done with my Mama.'
Her heart swelled so as she stood before the woman, looking into her eyes, that she was fain to press her little hand upon her breast and hold it there. Yet there was a purpose in the child that prevented both her slender figure and her searching gaze from faltering.
'My darling,' said Richards, 'you wear that pretty black frock in remembrance of your Mama.'
'I can remember my Mama,' returned the child, with tears springing to her eyes, 'in any frock.'
'But people put on black, to remember people when they're gone.'
'Where gone?' asked the child.
'Come and sit down by me,' said Richards, 'and I'll tell you a story.'
With a quick perception that it was intended to relate to what she had asked, little Florence laid aside the bonnet she had held in her hand until now, and sat down on a stool at the Nurse's feet, looking up into her face.
'Once upon a time,' said Richards, 'there was a lady - a very good lady, and her little daughter dearly loved her.'
'A very good lady and her little daughter dearly loved her,' repeated the child.
'Who, when God thought it right that it should be so, was taken ill and died.'
The child shuddered.
'Died, never to be seen again by anyone on earth, and was buried in the ground where the trees grow.
'The cold ground?' said the child, shuddering again. 'No! The warm ground,' returned Polly, seizing her advantage, 'where the ugly little seeds turn into beautiful flowers, and into grass, and corn, and I don't know what all besides. Where good people turn into bright angels, and fly away to Heaven!'
The child, who had dropped her head, raised it again, and sat looking at her intently.
'So; let me see,' said Polly, not a little flurried between this earnest scrutiny, her desire to comfort the child, her sudden success, and her very slight confidence in her own powers.' So, when this lady died, wherever they took her, or wherever they put her, she went to GOD! and she prayed to Him, this lady did,' said Polly, affecting herself beyond measure; being heartily in earnest, 'to teach her little daughter to be sure of that in her heart: and to know that she was happy there and loved her still: and to hope and try - Oh, all her life - to meet her there one day, never, never, never to part any more.'
'It was my Mama!' exclaimed the child, springing up, and clasping her round the neck.
'And the child's heart,' said Polly, drawing her to her breast: 'the little daughter's heart was so full of the truth of this, that even when she heard it from a strange nurse that couldn't tell it right, but was a poor mother herself and that was all, she found a comfort in it - didn't feel so lonely - sobbed and cried upon her bosom - took kindly to the baby lying in her lap - and - there, there, there!' said Polly, smoothing the child's curls and dropping tears upon them. 'There, poor dear!'
'Oh well, Miss Floy! And won't your Pa be angry neither!' cried a quick voice at the door, proceeding from a short, brown, womanly girl of fourteen, with a little snub nose, and black eyes like jet beads. 'When it was 'tickerlerly given out that you wasn't to go and worrit the wet nurse.
'She don't worry me,' was the surprised rejoinder of Polly. 'I am very fond of children.'
'Oh! but begging your pardon, Mrs Richards, that don't matter, you know,' returned the black-eyed girl, who was so desperately sharp and biting that she seemed to make one's eyes water. 'I may be very fond of pennywinkles, Mrs Richards, but it don't follow that I'm to have 'em for tea. 'Well, it don't matter,' said Polly. 'Oh, thank'ee, Mrs Richards, don't it!' returned the sharp girl. 'Remembering, however, if you'll be so good, that Miss Floy's under my charge, and Master Paul's under your'n.'
'But still we needn't quarrel,' said Polly.
'Oh no, Mrs Richards,' rejoined Spitfire. 'Not at all, I don't wish it, we needn't stand upon that footing, Miss Floy being a permanency, Master Paul a temporary.' Spitfire made use of none but comma pauses; shooting out whatever she had to say in one sentence, and in one breath, if possible.
'Miss Florence has just come home, hasn't she?' asked Polly.
'Yes, Mrs Richards, just come, and here, Miss Floy, before you've been in the house a quarter of an hour, you go a smearing your wet face against the expensive mourning that Mrs Richards is a wearing for your Ma!' With this remonstrance, young Spitfire, whose real name was Susan Nipper, detached the child from her new friend by a wrench - as if she were a tooth. But she seemed to do it, more in the excessively sharp exercise of her official functions, than with any deliberate unkindness.
'She'll be quite happy, now she has come home again,' said Polly, nodding to her with an encouraging smile upon her wholesome face, 'and will be so pleased to see her dear Papa to-night.'
'Lork, Mrs Richards!' cried Miss Nipper, taking up her words with a jerk. 'Don't. See her dear Papa indeed! I should like to see her do it!'
'Won't she then?' asked Polly.
'Lork, Mrs Richards, no, her Pa's a deal too wrapped up in somebody else, and before there was a somebody else to be wrapped up in she never was a favourite, girls are thrown away in this house, Mrs Richards, I assure you.
The child looked quickly from one nurse to the other, as if she understood and felt what was said.
'You surprise me!' cried Folly. 'Hasn't Mr Dombey seen her since - '
'No,' interrupted Susan Nipper. 'Not once since, and he hadn't hardly set his eyes upon her before that for months and months, and I don't think he'd have known her for his own child if he had met her in the streets, or would know her for his own child if he was to meet her in the streets to-morrow, Mrs Richards, as to me,' said Spitfire, with a giggle, 'I doubt if he's aweer of my existence.'
'Pretty dear!' said Richards; meaning, not Miss Nipper, but the little Florence.
'Oh! there's a Tartar within a hundred miles of where we're now in conversation, I can tell you, Mrs Richards, present company always excepted too,' said Susan Nipper; 'wish you good morning, Mrs Richards, now Miss Floy, you come along with me, and don't go hanging back like a naughty wicked child that judgments is no example to, don't!'
In spite of being thus adjured, and in spite also of some hauling on the part of Susan Nipper, tending towards the dislocation of her right shoulder, little Florence broke away, and kissed her new friend, affectionately.
'Oh dear! after it was given out so 'tickerlerly, that Mrs Richards wasn't to be made free with!' exclaimed Susan. 'Very well, Miss Floy!'
'God bless the sweet thing!' said Richards, 'Good-bye, dear!'
'Good-bye!' returned the child. 'God bless you! I shall come to see you again soon, and you'll come to see me? Susan will let us. Won't you, Susan?'
Spitfire seemed to be in the main a good-natured little body, although a disciple of that school of trainers of the young idea which holds that childhood, like money, must be shaken and rattled and jostled about a good deal to keep it bright. For, being thus appealed to with some endearing gestures and caresses, she folded her small arms and shook her head, and conveyed a relenting expression into her very-wide-open black eyes.
'It ain't right of you to ask it, Miss Floy, for you know I can't refuse you, but Mrs Richards and me will see what can be done, if Mrs Richards likes, I may wish, you see, to take a voyage to Chaney, Mrs Richards, but I mayn't know how to leave the London Docks.'
Richards assented to the proposition.
'This house ain't so exactly ringing with merry-making,' said Miss Nipper, 'that one need be lonelier than one must be. Your Toxes and your Chickses may draw out my two front double teeth, Mrs Richards, but that's no reason why I need offer 'em the whole set.'
This proposition was also assented to by Richards, as an obvious one.
'So I'm able, I'm sure,'said Susan Nipper, 'to live friendly, Mrs Richards, while Master Paul continues a permanency, if the means can be planned out without going openly against orders, but goodness gracious Miss Floy, you haven't got your things off yet, you naughty child, you haven't, come along!'
With these words, Susan Nipper, in a transport of coercion, made a charge at her young ward, and swept her out of the room.
The child, in her grief and neglect, was so gentle, so quiet, and uncomplaining; was possessed of so much affection that no one seemed to care to have, and so much sorrowful intelligence that no one seemed to mind or think about the wounding of, that Polly's heart was sore when she was left alone again. In the simple passage that had taken place between herself and the motherless little girl, her own motherly heart had been touched no less than the child's; and she felt, as the child did, that there was something of confidence and interest between them from that moment.
Notwithstanding Mr Toodle's great reliance on Polly, she was perhaps in point of artificial accomplishments very little his superior. She had been good-humouredly working and drudging for her life all her life, and was a sober steady-going person, with matter-of-fact ideas about the butcher and baker, and the division of pence into farthings. But she was a good plain sample of a nature that is ever, in the mass, better, truer, higher, nobler, quicker to feel, and much more constant to retain, all tenderness and pity, self-denial and devotion, than the nature of men. And, perhaps, unlearned as she was, she could have brought a dawning knowledge home to Mr Dombey at that early day, which would not then have struck him in the end like lightning.
But this is from the purpose. Polly only thought, at that time, of improving on her successful propitiation of Miss Nipper, and devising some means of having little Florence aide her, lawfully, and without rebellion. An opening happened to present itself that very night.
She had been rung down into the glass room as usual, and had walked about and about it a long time, with the baby in her arms, when, to her great surprise and dismay, Mr Dombey - whom she had seen at first leaning on his elbow at the table, and afterwards walking up and down the middle room, drawing, each time, a little nearer, she thought, to the open folding doors - came out, suddenly, and stopped before her.
'Good evening, Richards.'
Just the same austere, stiff gentleman, as he had appeared to her on that first day. Such a hard-looking gentleman, that she involuntarily dropped her eyes and her curtsey at the same time.
'How is Master Paul, Richards?'
'Quite thriving, Sir, and well.'
'He looks so,' said Mr Dombey, glancing with great interest at the tiny face she uncovered for his observation, and yet affecting to be half careless of it. 'They give you everything you want, I hope?'
'Oh yes, thank you, Sir.'
She suddenly appended such an obvious hesitation to this reply, however, that Mr Dombey, who had turned away; stopped, and turned round again, inquiringly.
'If you please, Sir, the child is very much disposed to take notice of things,' said Richards, with another curtsey, 'and - upstairs is a little dull for him, perhaps, Sir.'
'I begged them to take you out for airings, constantly,' said Mr Dombey. 'Very well! You shall go out oftener. You're quite right to mention it.'
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' faltered Polly, 'but we go out quite plenty Sir, thank you.'
'What would you have then?' asked Mr Dombey.
'Indeed Sir, I don't exactly know,' said Polly, 'unless - '
'Yes?'
'I believe nothing is so good for making children lively and cheerful, Sir, as seeing other children playing about 'em,' observed Polly, taking courage.
'I think I mentioned to you, Richards, when you came here,' said Mr Dombey, with a frown, 'that I wished you to see as little of your family as possible.'
'Oh dear yes, Sir, I wasn't so much as thinking of that.'
'I am glad of it,' said Mr Dombey hastily. 'You can continue your walk if you please.'
With that, he disappeared into his inner room; and Polly had the satisfaction of feeling that he had thoroughly misunderstood her object, and that she had fallen into disgrace without the least advancement of her purpose.
Next night, she found him walking about the conservatory when she came down. As she stopped at the door, checked by this unusual sight, and uncertain whether to advance or retreat, he called her in. His mind was too much set on Dombey and Son, it soon appeared, to admit of his having forgotten her suggestion.
'If you really think that sort of society is good for the child,' he said sharply, as if there had been no interval since she proposed it, 'where's Miss Florence?'
'Nothing could be better than Miss Florence, Sir,' said Polly eagerly, 'but I understood from her maid that they were not to - '
Mr Dombey rang the bell, and walked till it was answered.
'Tell them always to let Miss Florence be with Richards when she chooses, and go out with her, and so forth. Tell them to let the children be together, when Richards wishes it.'
The iron was now hot, and Richards striking on it boldly - it was a good cause and she bold in it, though instinctively afraid of Mr Dombey - requested that Miss Florence might be sent down then and there, to make friends with her little brother.
She feigned to be dandling the child as the servant retired on this errand, but she thought that she saw Mr Dombey's colour changed; that the expression of his face quite altered; that he turned, hurriedly, as if to gainsay what he had said, or she had said, or both, and was only deterred by very shame.
And she was right. The last time he had seen his slighted child, there had been that in the sad embrace between her and her dying mother, which was at once a revelation and a reproach to him. Let him be absorbed as he would in the Son on whom he built such high hopes, he could not forget that closing scene. He could not forget that he had had no part in it. That, at the bottom of its clear depths of tenderness and truth' lay those two figures clasped in each other's arms, while he stood on the bank above them, looking down a mere spectator - not a sharer with them - quite shut out.
Unable to exclude these things from his remembrance, or to keep his mind free from such imperfect shapes of the meaning with which they were fraught, as were able to make themselves visible to him through the mist of his pride, his previous feeling of indifference towards little Florence changed into an uneasiness of an extraordinary kind. Young as she was, and possessing in any eyes but his (and perhaps in his too) even more than the usual amount of childish simplicity and confidence, he almost felt as if she watched and distrusted him. As if she held the clue to something secret in his breast, of the nature of which he was hardly informed himself. As if she had an innate knowledge of one jarring and discordant string within him, and her very breath could sound it.
His feeling about the child had been negative from her birth. He had never conceived an aversion to her: it had not been worth his while or in his humour. She had never been a positively disagreeable object to him. But now he was ill at ease about her. She troubled his peace. He would have preferred to put her idea aside altogether, if he had known how. Perhaps - who shall decide on such mysteries! - he was afraid that he might come to hate her.
When little Florence timidly presented herself, Mr Dombey stopped in his pacing up and down and looked towards her. Had he looked with greater interest and with a father's eye, he might have read in her keen glance the impulses and fears that made her waver; the passionate desire to run clinging to him, crying, as she hid her face in his embrace, 'Oh father, try to love me! there's no one else!' the dread of a repulse; the fear of being too bold, and of offending him; the pitiable need in which she stood of some assurance and encouragement; and how her overcharged young heart was wandering to find some natural resting-place, for its sorrow and affection.
But he saw nothing of this. He saw her pause irresolutely at the door and look towards him; and he saw no more.
'Come in,' he said, 'come in: what is the child afraid of?'
She came in; and after glancing round her for a moment with an uncertain air, stood pressing her small hands hard together, close within the door.
'Come here, Florence,' said her father, coldly. 'Do you know who I am?'
'Yes, Papa.'
'Have you nothing to say to me?'
The tears that stood in her eyes as she raised them quickly to his face, were frozen by the expression it wore. She looked down again, and put out her trembling hand.
Mr Dombey took it loosely in his own, and stood looking down upon her for a moment, as if he knew as little as the child, what to say or do.
'There! Be a good girl,' he said, patting her on the head, and regarding her as it were by stealth with a disturbed and doubtful look. 'Go to Richards! Go!'
His little daughter hesitated for another instant as though she would have clung about him still, or had some lingering hope that he might raise her in his arms and kiss her. She looked up in his face once more. He thought how like her expression was then, to what it had been when she looked round at the Doctor - that night - and instinctively dropped her hand and turned away.
It was not difficult to perceive that Florence was at a great disadvantage in her father's presence. It was not only a constraint upon the child's mind, but even upon the natural grace and freedom of her actions. As she sported and played about her baby brother that night, her manner was seldom so winning and so pretty as it naturally was, and sometimes when in his pacing to and fro, he came near her (she had, perhaps, for the moment, forgotten him) it changed upon the instant and became forced and embarrassed.
Still, Polly persevered with all the better heart for seeing this; and, judging of Mr Dombey by herself, had great confidence in the mute appeal of poor little Florence's mourning dress.' It's hard indeed,' thought Polly, 'if he takes only to one little motherless child, when he has another, and that a girl, before his eyes.'
So, Polly kept her before his eyes, as long as she could, and managed so well with little Paul, as to make it very plain that he was all the livelier for his sister's company. When it was time to withdraw upstairs again, she would have sent Florence into the inner room to say good-night to her father, but the child was timid and drew back; and when she urged her again, said, spreading her hands before her eyes, as if to shut out her own unworthiness, 'Oh no, no! He don't want me. He don't want me!'
The little altercation between them had attracted the notice of Mr Dombey, who inquired from the table where he was sitting at his wine, what the matter was.
'Miss Florence was afraid of interrupting, Sir, if she came in to say good-night,' said Richards.
'It doesn't matter,' returned Mr Dombey. 'You can let her come and go without regarding me.'
The child shrunk as she listened - and was gone, before her humble friend looked round again.
However, Polly triumphed not a little in the success of her well-intentioned scheme, and in the address with which she had brought it to bear: whereof she made a full disclosure to Spitfire when she was once more safely entrenched upstairs. Miss Nipper received that proof of her confidence, as well as the prospect of their free association for the future, rather coldly, and was anything but enthusiastic in her demonstrations of joy.
'I thought you would have been pleased,' said Polly.
'Oh yes, Mrs Richards, I'm very well pleased, thank you,' returned Susan, who had suddenly become so very upright that she seemed to have put an additional bone in her stays.
'You don't show it,' said Polly.
'Oh! Being only a permanency I couldn't be expected to show it like a temporary,' said Susan Nipper. 'Temporaries carries it all before 'em here, I find, but though there's a excellent party-wall between this house and the next, I mayn't exactly like to go to it, Mrs Richards, notwithstanding!'
 
已故夫人的葬礼完成得使殡仪承办人和邻近的全体居民都完全称心满意（邻近的居民们通常在这种场合是喜欢吹毛求疵的，对礼仪中的任何疏忽或缺点都会生气见怪）；在这之后，董贝先生家里的各个成员各自回到了他们在这个家庭体系中原先的地位中。这个小小的世界，就像户外的大世界一样，很容易把死去的人忘掉；当厨娘说了“她是一位性情安静的夫人”，女管家说了“这是人人都难以逃脱的命运”，男管家说了“谁曾料想到会发生这件事呢？”女仆说了“她简直不能相信这件事”，男仆说了“这似乎完全跟做梦一样”之后，他们在这个话题上就没有什么可以再说的了，而且开始觉得他们的丧服也已经穿得褪色了。
理查兹以一种体面的被囚禁的状态被安顿在楼上；对她来说，她的新生活的黎明是寒冷与灰暗的。董贝先生的公馆是一栋宏伟的房屋，座落在一条阴暗的、非常优雅的街道的背阴的一面，这条街道位于波特兰十字路口和布赖恩广场之间的地区内，两旁矗立着高大的房屋。这是一栋在街道拐角上的房子，里面十分宽敞，其中还包括一些地窖，装了铁条的窗子向它们皱着眉头，眼睛歪斜的、通向垃圾箱的门向它们斜眼瞅着。这是一栋阴暗沉闷的房屋，后背是圆形的，房屋里有一整套客厅；客厅前面是一个铺了石子的庭院，庭院里有两株干枯的树，树干和树枝都已发黑，发出了格格的、而不是飒飒的响声，因为树叶都已被烟熏枯了。夏天的太阳只有在上午吃早饭的时候才照射到这条街上，那时候运水车、卖旧衣的商人、卖天竺葵的小贩、修雨伞的人、还有一边走一边使荷兰钟的小铃儿发出叮当叮当响声的人也随着太阳来到这里。太阳很快就消失，这一天不再回来；随后而来的是乐队和潘趣木偶戏①；在这之后，人们只能听听风琴的极为沉闷的声音和看看白耗子的表演——有时还有一只豪猪来演杂技，以便变换一下娱乐的兴趣；到了薄暮的时候，男管家们（他们家里的人到外面吃晚饭去了）开始站在门口；点街灯的人试图用煤气来照亮这条街道，但每夜都没有成功。
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①潘趣（Punch）：英国木偶戏中的主角，他的背是驼的，鼻子很长，而且是钩形的，他的妻子名叫朱迪（Judy），时常和他吵架。
公馆里面和外面一样单调无趣。葬礼结束以后，董贝先生命令把家具都蒙罩起来——也许是要保留起来给他儿子用的，因为他所有的计划都和他的儿子联系着——；除了第一层留给他自己用的房间外，其他所有的房间都不进行布置。因此，桌子和椅子堆在房间的中间，外面用大块的包尸布遮盖着，形成了各种神秘离奇的形状。铃柄、窗帘、镜子，由于用杂志、日报和周刊的纸包着，因此被迫对上面登载着的死亡与可怖的谋杀案情进行片断的报道。每一个用荷兰麻布包裹起来的枝形吊灯或分枝烛台，看上去就像是天花板眼睛中掉下的一滴巨大的泪珠。从烟囱中跑出来的气味就像从地下灵堂或潮湿的地方跑出的一样。已经逝世和安葬的夫人的肖像被镶嵌在用可怕的绷带包扎起来的画框中，看起来阴森可怖。每刮起一阵风，就从邻近的马厩中吹来了几根稻草，在拐角四周旋转；当她生病的时候，这些稻草曾经撒在房屋前面，那些发了霉的残余的稻草至今仍粘附在邻近的房屋上；它们常常被某种看不见的力量吸引到正对过的、等待出租的、肮脏的房屋的门槛上，现在正以凄凉的声调，向董贝先生的窗子滔滔不绝地诉说着。
董贝先生留给自己居住的房间和前厅连接，它们包括一间起居室，一间图书室，还有一间暖房或吃早餐的小玻璃房。图书室实际上是个化妆室，因此热压纸、上等皮纸、摩洛哥皮、俄国皮革的气味与好几双靴子的气味在室内相互竞赛。从暖房里可以望见前面提到的那两株树和几只四处觅食的猫。这三间房屋彼此相通。早上，当董贝先生在前面首先提到的那两间房子中的一间里吃早饭的时候，或者下午，当他回家来吃晚饭的时候，就有人摇铃，召唤理查兹到这个玻璃房里来，抱着她所抚养的小孩在那里走来走去。她在这些时候可以瞥见董贝先生坐在黑暗的远处，越过黑暗的笨重的家具（他的父亲曾经在这座邸宅中居住多年，它的许多陈设都是老式的，阴沉呆板的），向外望着这个婴儿。她从这些瞥见中开始产生了对他在孤独状态时的一些想法，仿佛他是一个在单人牢房中寂寞无伴的囚徒，或者是一个奇怪的幽灵，不能跟他说话，也不能对他进行了解。
小保罗•董贝的奶妈本人过着这样的生活，并带着小保罗一起过着这样的生活，已有好几个星期了。没有奇克夫人在一起，她是从来不出去的。奇克夫人通常在托克斯小姐的陪同下，在天气晴朗的上午前来看望，并带领她和婴孩到户外去散步，或者换句话说，就是在人行道上庄严地来回行走，像是个步行的送葬队伍似的。有一天，当她忧郁地穿过那些冷冷清清的房间闲逛之后，回到楼上，正要在自己的房间里坐下来的时候，房门缓慢地、平静地开了，一个黑眼睛的小女孩向房间里探望。
“这一定是弗洛伦斯小姐从她姑妈家里回来了，”理查兹想道，她以前从没有看见过这个孩子。“我希望，您身体很好，小姐。”
“这是我的弟弟吗？”女孩子指着婴孩，问道。
“是的，我的宝贝，”理查兹回答道。“来亲亲他吧。”
但是女孩子没有走上前来，而是望着她的脸，问道：
“您把我的妈妈怎么搞的？”
“天主保佑这个小人儿！”理查兹喊道，“多么使人伤心的问题！我怎么搞的？我什么也没有搞，小姐。”
“•他•们把我妈妈怎么搞的？”女孩子问道。
“我这一辈子还从没有见到过这样使人感伤的事情！”理查兹说道，她在心里自然把她自己的一个孩子代替了这个女孩子，在类似的情况下，正在打听她的下落。“往这里走近一些，我亲爱的小姐！别怕我。”
“我不怕您，”女孩子走近一些，说道，“但是我想知道，他们把我妈妈怎么搞的。”
“我亲爱的，”理查兹说道，“您穿那件漂亮的黑长衣来纪念您的妈妈。”
“不论穿什么长衣，”女孩子眼睛里涌出眼泪，回答道，“我都能记得我的妈妈。”
“可是人们穿上黑衣服来纪念那些已经离开我们的人们。”
“离开我们到哪里去了？”女孩子问道。
“到这里来坐在我的身旁，”理查兹说道，“我跟您讲一个故事。”
小弗洛伦斯迅速理解到这个故事是和她所问的问题有关的，就把直到现在还拿在手中的软帽搁在一边，坐在奶妈脚边的凳子上，仰望着她的脸。
“从前，”理查兹说道，“有一位夫人——一位很善良的夫人，她的小女儿非常爱她。”
“一位很善良的夫人，她的小女儿非常爱她，”女孩子重复道。
“当上帝认为是对的并应该这样的时候，她得了病，死去了。”
女孩子发抖了。
“她死了，世界上的人再也看不见她了，她被埋葬在地底下，那里长着树木。”
“那寒冷的地吗？”女孩子问道，她又发抖了。
“不，那温暖的地，”波利抓住这个有利的时机，回答道，“丑陋的小种子在地里转变成美丽的花朵，转变成毒草和谷物，还有我不知道的其他所有的东西。善良的人们在那里转变成光辉的天使，飞向天国！”
头一直低垂着的女孩子又抬起头来，坐在那里聚精会神地望着她。
“就这样，让我想想，”波利说道；面对着这认真探究的眼光，怀着安慰这女孩子的愿望，她突然间取得了成功，而她对她自己的能力又缺乏信心，在这些错综复杂的情况下，她的心情相当慌乱。“这样，当这位夫人死去以后，不论他们把她带到哪里，或者不论他们把她放到哪里，她都走到上帝那里去了！她向他祈祷，是的，这位夫人向他祈祷，”波利说道，由于她十分真诚，因此连她自己也无限地感动，“教她的小女儿真心相信这一切；让她知道，她妈妈在那里是幸福的，仍旧爱着她，并且让她希望和设法——哦，她整个一生都要设法——有一天到那里去会见她，永远永远也不再分离。”
“这是我的妈妈！”女孩子跳起来，紧紧地搂着她的脖子，高声喊道。
“这女孩子的心，”波利把她拉到怀里，“这小女儿的心真心诚意地相信这一切，虽然她是从一位陌生的奶妈那里听到的，这位奶妈不能讲得很好，但她本人是一位可怜的母亲，这就是一切；女孩子得到了安慰——，不再感到那么孤单——，她伏在她胸前抽抽嗒嗒地哭着，哇哇地大哭着——，自然而然地爱上了躺在她膝上的婴孩——好啦，好啦，好啦！”波利抚摸着女孩子的卷发，眼泪簌簌地落在上面，说道，“好啦，我可怜的好孩子！”
“啊，弗洛伊小姐！您爸爸还会不生气吗！”门口一个很快的声音喊道，这是从一位身材矮小、皮肤褐色、十四岁但神态却像成年妇女一样的姑娘发出的，她有一个小小的狮子鼻，一双像黑色大理石珠子一样乌黑的眼睛。“他曾经特别嘱咐过，不许您到奶妈这里来打扰她。”
“她没有打扰我，”波利感到惊异地回答道。“我很喜欢孩子。”
“啊，请您原谅，理查兹大嫂，这不要紧，您知道，”黑眼睛的姑娘回答道，她是这么尖嘴利舌，咄咄逼人，似乎要叫人直掉眼泪。“我可能很喜欢吃蜗牛，理查兹大嫂，但不能因此就断定说，我以后就光吃蜗牛不用喝茶了。”
“唔，这不要紧，”波利说道。
“啊，谢谢您，理查兹大嫂，这不算什么！”尖嘴利舌的姑娘回答道，“如果您肯费心记一记的话，那么请您记住，弗洛伊小姐归我管，保罗少爷归您管。”
“不过我们仍旧用不着争吵，”波利说道。
“啊，是的，理查兹大嫂，”脾气暴躁得像喷火器一样的姑娘回答道，“根本用不着，我并不希望争吵，我们用不着闹出那样的关系，看管弗洛伊小姐是个长期性的活，看管保罗少爷则是个临时性的活。”喷火器只使用逗点式的停顿；她想要说什么，都是像开枪似地在一个句子中说出，如果可能的话，则用一口气说出。
“弗洛伦斯小姐刚刚回家吧，是不是？”波利问道。
“是的，理查兹大嫂，刚刚回来，您看，弗洛伊小姐，您回到家来才一刻钟，您那湿漉漉的脸就把理查兹大嫂为您妈穿着的很贵的丧服弄脏了！”这个喷火器的真实姓名是苏珊•尼珀，她进行了这番申斥之后，就像拔牙似地用力一拧，把女孩子从她的新朋友那里拉开了。不过她这样做，似乎倒并不是由于她故意冷酷无情，而是由于她过分严厉地履行她的职责。
“现在她又回家来了，她将会十分幸福，”波利朝着她和善的脸露出鼓励的笑容，向她点点头，说道，“她今天晚上就要看到她亲爱的爸爸了，她该会多么高兴啊！”
“哎呀，理查兹大嫂！”尼珀姑娘立刻打断她的话，说道，“得了吧！说什么看到她亲爱的爸爸！我真愿意她能那样就好了！”
“这么说，她不能看到吗？”波利问道。
“哎呀，理查兹大嫂，不能，她爸爸的心思过分用在另外一个人身上了，在还没有这另外一个人让他操心的时候，她也从来不是个得宠的孩子，在这家里女孩子是被一脚踢开的，理查兹大嫂，我肯定地对您说。”
女孩子的眼光很快地从一位保姆的身上转到另一位保姆的身上，仿佛她理解和感觉到谈话的内容似的。
“您使我吃惊！”波利喊道，“难道从那时以来董贝先生就一直没有见到过她吗？——”
“没有，”苏珊•尼珀打断了她的话，说道，“从那时以来一次也没有见到，就在这以前他也几个月几个月不把眼睛往她身上看一眼，我想，如果他过去曾在街上遇到她的话，那么他是不会认出她是他的亲生女儿的，如果他明天在街上遇到她的话，那么他也是不会认出她是他的亲生女儿的，理查兹大嫂，至于我，”喷火器格格地笑了一声，说道，“我怀疑他是不是知道天地间还存在着我这样一个人呢。”
“我亲爱的宝贝！”理查兹说道，她不是指尼珀姑娘，而是指弗洛伦斯。
“啊，在我们现在谈话的一百英里之内有一位鞑靼，我可以告诉您，理查兹大嫂，现在在场的人总是不包括在里面的，”苏珊•尼珀说道；“祝您早上好，理查兹大嫂，现在弗洛伊小姐，您跟我来，别像一个淘气的坏孩子那样磨磨蹭蹭地不肯往前走，别学那种孩子，别去学。”
尽管受到了这样的规劝，也尽管苏珊•尼珀生拉硬拽了几下，几乎把她的右肩都要拽脱臼了，小弗洛伦斯还是挣脱了身子，满怀深情地吻着她的新朋友。
“再见！”女孩子说道，“上帝保佑您！我不久将再来看您，您是不是也会来看我？苏珊会让我们见面的，是不是，苏珊？”
总的说来，喷火器似乎是一位性格善良的小人儿，虽然在培训孩子的智力方面，她是这样一种学派的信徒，这种学派主张，孩子就像硬币一样，必须震动它们，叮叮当当地打响它们，并让它们磕磕碰碰，才能使它们发亮。因为，当弗洛伦斯向她这样恳求和向她作出了亲热的姿态与爱抚之后，她抱拢了两只胳膊，摇摇头，并在张得很大的黑眼睛中流露出了怜悯的神情。
“您向我提出这样的请求是不好的，弗洛伊小姐，因为您知道我不能拒绝您，但是理查兹大嫂和我将考虑考虑怎么办，如果理查兹大嫂愿意，您知道，我可能希望航行到中国去一趟，理查兹大嫂，可是我可能还不知道怎样离开伦敦码头呢。”
理查兹同意这个意见。
“这个公馆并不是真正充满欢乐的，”尼珀姑娘说道，“一个人需要过很孤独的生活，比他应该过的孤独生活更孤独。你们这些托克斯们，你们这些奇克们可以把我的两只门牙拔掉，理查兹大嫂，但是我没有理由要把我的全副牙齿都奉献给她们。”
这个意见理查兹也同意了，因为这是显然无疑的。
“所以毫无疑问，”苏珊•尼珀说道，“只要保罗少爷还归您管，理查兹大嫂，只要我们能想出个办法不会违抗上面的命令，我完全同意我们友好相处，可是我的老天爷呀，弗洛伊小姐，您怎么还不打算走哪，您这淘气的孩子，您还不打算走哪，跟我来吧！”
苏珊•尼珀说了这些话之后，立即采取了强迫的手段，向她这位年幼的被抚养人发动了袭击，把她飞快地拖出了房间。
女孩子处于悲伤与被冷落的境地中，是那么温柔，那么安静和没有怨言；她心里充满了那么深厚的感情，似乎没有一个人需要它；她的心又那么多愁善感，似乎没有一个人关心它或怕伤害它；因此当波利又独自留下来的时候，她的心感到痛苦。在她与那失去母亲的小女孩所进行的简单的交谈中，她本人做母亲的心被感动的程度并不比女孩子小。她像那女孩子一样，觉得从那时刻起，在她们之间已经产生了信任与关怀。
虽然图德尔先生对波利极为信任，但在知识技能方面她却不见得能胜过她。有些妇女的性格总的来说，比男子的性格更为善良、真诚、卓越、高尚，感觉更为敏捷，而且在保持温柔、怜悯、自我牺牲和忠诚的品质方面也比男子更为恒久，她就是这种妇女性格的一个优秀的、明显的样本。虽然她没有什么文化知识，可是她却能够在事情一开始的时候，就让董贝先生了解一些情况，这样就不会在最后像闪电似地使他万分惊愕。
但是我们已经离题了。那时候，波利所想到的只是把她从尼珀姑娘那里成功地取得的好感再推进一步，并想出办法使小弗洛伦斯合法地待在她的身边，而且不违抗主人的意旨。
就在那天晚上，出现了一个好机会。
她跟往常一样，听到铃声，就下楼到玻璃房里，手中抱着婴孩走来走去，走了好久；忽然，使她大感意外和惊愕的是，董贝先生从里面走了出来，停在她的前面。
“晚上好，理查兹。”
仍然是她在第一天看到的那位严厉的、生硬呆板的先生。他那不苟言笑的神色使她不由自主地低下了眼睛，行了个屈膝礼。
“保罗少爷好吗，理查兹？”
“很壮实，先生，很健康。”
“他看来是这样，”董贝先生说道，一边怀着极大的兴趣，朝着她掀开让他观察的很小的脸孔看了一眼，但却装作对它不大关心的样子，说道，“我希望，您需要的东西他们都给您了吧？”
“啊，是的，谢谢您，先生。”
可是她回答的时候，忽然流露出了明显的迟疑的口气，因此已经走开了的董贝先生又停下脚步，露出询问的神色，重新转过身来。
“我觉得，先生，要使孩子活泼愉快，最好的办法莫过于让他们看到别的孩子在他们周围玩耍，”波利鼓起勇气，说出了她的意见。
“我记得当您到这里来的时候，我曾经跟您说过，”董贝先生皱了皱眉头，说道，“我希望您尽可能不去探望您的家庭。
如果您愿意，您就继续散步吧。”
说完这些话，他就走进里面的房间去了；波利看出，他完全误解了她的意思；她碰了一鼻子灰，而却一点也没有达到她的目的。
第二天晚上，当她走下楼来的时候，她发现他正在暖房里踱着步子。她看到这不同往常的情形，心中迟疑，就在门口停住，不知道该往前走还是该往后退，正在这时候，他喊她进去。
“如果您真的认为那样的伴侣对孩子是有益的话，”他突然地说道，仿佛在她提出建议之后并没有间隔过一段时间似的，“弗洛伦斯小姐在哪里？”
“没有什么能比弗洛伦斯小姐更好的了，先生，”波利热情洋溢地说道，“但是我从她的小保姆那里了解到，他们不——”
董贝先生摇了摇铃，然后踱着步子，等着仆人跑来。
“告诉他们，只要理查兹喜欢，就让弗洛伦斯小姐跟理查兹在一起，跟她一起出去，等等。告诉他们，只要理查兹愿意，就让两个孩子在一起。”
铁现在热了，理查兹就大胆地敲打着它——这是个好事情，所以虽然她本能地害怕董贝先生，但是她还是勇敢地去做它——，她请求把弗洛伦斯小姐立刻送下楼来，送到她那里，跟她的小弟弟做朋友。
当仆人离开去执行这项任务的时候，她装出抚弄孩子的样子，可是她觉得，她看到董贝先生的脸色变了；他脸上的神情完全不同了；他急忙转过身来，仿佛想把他说过的话，或她说过的话，或两人都说过的话，收回去，只是由于不好意思才迟疑着没有说出来。
她是对的。上次他看到被他冷落的女儿的时候，她和她垂死的母亲正悲痛地拥抱着；这对他既是揭露，又是责备。让他把全部精力都贯注在他寄托着远大希望的儿子身上吧，可是他还是不能忘记那临终一幕的情景。他不能忘记，他没有参加进去。他不能忘记，在亲热与真诚的清澈的河底，躺着那两个相互拥抱在各自怀中的人儿，而他却仅仅是个完全被排除在外的旁观者，站在她们上面的岸上向下看着，而不是她们当中的一员。
他不能从记忆中消除这些事情，也不能从心中摆脱那些零碎不全的形象所包含的意义；他通过高傲的迷雾仍然能辨认出它们，因此他先前对小弗洛伦斯漠不关心的感情已转变成一种异乎寻常的不安。他几乎觉得，她在注意观察着他，对他不信任。仿佛她掌握着能打通他心中某种秘密的东西的线索，这种秘密的东西的性质他自己也不知道。仿佛她对他心中那条刺耳的、不和谐的琴弦有着天赋的知识，她呼一口气就能使它发出声音。
从她出生起，他对这女孩子的感情就是消极的。他对她从来不曾嫌恶，这不值得他去做，而且也不是他的心意。他从来没有觉得她是个绝对讨厌的东西。可是现在他对她却感到局促不安。她搅乱了他的安宁。如果他知道怎么办的话，他真愿意把关于她的思想完全撂在一旁。也许——谁能解答这种神秘的问题呢！——他害怕他会变得恨起她来。
当小弗洛伦斯提心吊胆地走进来的时候，董贝先生停止来回踱步，向她看着。如果他怀着更大的兴趣，并且用父亲的眼睛来看的话，他可能会从她那敏锐的眼光中看出使她心神慌乱的激动与恐惧，看出她热烈地盼望能跑去抱住他，把脸藏在他的怀抱中，喊道，“啊，爸爸，设法爱我吧，我没有别的亲人了！”，看出她站在那里可怜巴巴地需要得到某种保证与鼓励；看出她那负担过重的年幼的心正在彷徨，想为它的悲痛与深情寻找一个天然的安息的场所。
可是这些他什么也没有看到。他只看到她犹豫不决地停在门口，向他望着；他没有看到别的了。
“进来吧，”他说道，“进来吧。这孩子怕什么？”
她走进去了；在露出半信半疑的神态向四周环视了一会儿之后，她把小手紧紧地握在一起，紧挨在门口。
“到这里来，弗洛伦斯，”她的父亲冷冰冰地说道，“你知道我是谁吗？”
“知道，爸爸。”
“你没有什么话要对我说吗？”
当她迅速抬起眼睛望着他的脸的时候，那张脸上表露出的神情使她眼中噙着的泪水凝结了。她又低下眼睛，伸出了哆嗦的手。
董贝先生把它松松地握在自己手里，站在那里，眼睛向下对她看了一会儿，仿佛他和这女孩子一样，不知道该说什么和做什么似的。
“好吧！做一个好孩子！”他抚摸她的头，好像偷偷地用烦乱不安与疑惑不定的眼光望着她，说道，“到理查兹那里去吧！去吧！”
他的小女儿又迟疑了片刻，仿佛她还想偎依在他的身边或者还怀着一线希望：他会把她举起来，抱到他的怀中，并亲亲她。她又一次抬起眼睛望着他的脸孔。他想，她现在的表情跟她那天夜里环视四周，最后望着医生时的表情是多么相像啊，于是他就本能地放下她的手，走开了。
不难察觉，弗洛伦斯在她父亲面前处于极为不利的地位。它不仅使孩子在心理上感到拘束，而且也使她不能举止自然、优美和行动自由。波利看到这种情景，但仍然保持勇气，没有气馁；根据她自己对董贝先生的判断，她对可怜的小弗洛伦斯的丧服所发出的默默的呼吁寄托着很大的希望。“如果他只爱一个失去母亲的孩子，而另一个失去母亲的孩子就在他的眼前，那真是太残酷了，”波利想道。
所以，波利就在他的眼前把她尽量留得长久一些，又把小保罗照管得很好，这样显然可以看出，他在他姐姐的陪伴下，更加活泼了。到了需要重新回到楼上去的时候，她本想送弗洛伦斯到里面的房间去向她的父亲说声晚安，但这女孩子胆怯，退回来了；当波利又催促她去的时候，她伸开手掌捂住眼睛，仿佛要把自己微贱的形象给遮盖掉似的，“啊，不，不！他不需要我！他不需要我！”
她们之间发生的小争吵引起了董贝先生的注意；他正坐在桌旁喝酒，就问道，发生了什么事。
“弗洛伦斯小姐怕她进来跟您说晚安会打扰您，先生。”
“这没有关系，”董贝先生回答道。“您可以让她来来去去，不用管我。”
女孩子听了这话畏缩了，并且在她身份低下的朋友回过头来之前就离开了。
不管怎么说，波利由于成功地想出了这善意的计策，而且又十分灵巧地实现了它，所以感到十分得意，因此当她又平安地在楼上安下身来的时候，她就立即把这些情况详详细细地透露给喷火器听了。这样做，表明波利对尼珀姑娘表示信任，可是尼珀姑娘对于这一点，以及对她们今后可以自由交往的前景却反应相当冷淡。她丝毫也不热情地表示高兴。
“我还以为您会高兴的呢，”波利说道。
“啊，不错，理查兹大嫂，我非常高兴，谢谢您，”苏珊回答道；她身子忽然挺得笔直，好像有另一根骨头插进她的胸衣中似的。
“您没有把您的高兴表现出来，”波利说。
“啊！我只不过是一位在这里干长期活的人，不可能指望我像一位在这里干临时活的人表现得那么高兴，”苏珊•尼珀说道。“我发现，干临时活的人在这里总是占上风。不过虽然这座房屋跟隔壁的房屋之间有一道非常漂亮的界墙，可是我可能还是不愿意到那座房屋里去，理查兹大嫂。”
Chapter 4
In which some more First Appearances are made on the Stage of these Adventures
Though the offices of Dombey and Son were within the liberties of the City of London, and within hearing of Bow Bells, when their clashing voices were not drowned by the uproar in the streets, yet were there hints of adventurous and romantic story to be observed in some of the adjacent objects. Gog and Magog held their state within ten minutes' walk; the Royal Exchange was close at hand; the Bank of England, with its vaults of gold and silver 'down among the dead men' underground, was their magnificent neighbour. Just round the corner stood the rich East India House, teeming with suggestions of precious stuffs and stones, tigers, elephants, howdahs, hookahs, umbrellas, palm trees, palanquins, and gorgeous princes of a brown complexion sitting on carpets, with their slippers very much turned up at the toes. Anywhere in the immediate vicinity there might be seen pictures of ships speeding away full sail to all parts of the world; outfitting warehouses ready to pack off anybody anywhere, fully equipped in half an hour; and little timber midshipmen in obsolete naval uniforms, eternally employed outside the shop doors of nautical Instrument-makers in taking observations of the hackney carriages.
Sole master and proprietor of one of these effigies - of that which might be called, familiar!y, the woodenest - of that which thrust itself out above the pavement, right leg foremost, with a suavity the least endurable, and had the shoe buckles and flapped waistcoat the least reconcileable to human reason, and bore at its right eye the most offensively disproportionate piece of machinery - sole master and proprietor of that Midshipman, and proud of him too, an elderly gentleman in a Welsh wig had paid house-rent, taxes, rates, and dues, for more years than many a full-grown midshipman of flesh and blood has numbered in his life; and midshipmen who have attained a pretty green old age, have not been wanting in the English Navy.
The stock-in-trade of this old gentleman comprised chronometers, barometers, telescopes, compasses, charts, maps, sextants, quadrants, and specimens of every kind of instrument used in the working of a ship's course, or the keeping of a ship's reckoning, or the prosecuting of a ship's discoveries. Objects in brass and glass were in his drawers and on his shelves, which none but the initiated could have found the top of, or guessed the use of, or having once examined, could have ever got back again into their mahogany nests without assistance. Everything was jammed into the tightest cases, fitted into the narrowest corners, fenced up behind the most impertinent cushions, and screwed into the acutest angles, to prevent its philosophical composure from being disturbed by the rolling of the sea. Such extraordinary precautions were taken in every instance to save room, and keep the thing compact; and so much practical navigation was fitted, and cushioned, and screwed into every box (whether the box was a mere slab, as some were, or something between a cocked hat and a star-fish, as others were, and those quite mild and modest boxes as compared with others); that the shop itself, partaking of the general infection, seemed almost to become a snug, sea-going, ship-shape concern, wanting only good sea-room, in the event of an unexpected launch, to work its way securely to any desert island in the world.
Many minor incidents in the household life of the Ships'
Instrument-maker who was proud of his little Midshipman, assisted and bore out this fancy. His acquaintance lying chiefly among ship-chandlers and so forth, he had always plenty of the veritable ships' biscuit on his table. It was familiar with dried meats and tongues, possessing an extraordinary flavour of rope yarn. Pickles were produced upon it, in great wholesale jars, with 'dealer in all kinds of Ships' Provisions' on the label; spirits were set forth in case bottles with no throats. Old prints of ships with alphabetical references to their various mysteries, hung in frames upon the walls; the Tartar Frigate under weigh, was on the plates; outlandish shells, seaweeds, and mosses, decorated the chimney-piece; the little wainscotted back parlour was lighted by a sky-light, like a cabin.
Here he lived too, in skipper-like state, all alone with his nephew Walter: a boy of fourteen who looked quite enough like a midshipman, to carry out the prevailing idea. But there it ended, for Solomon Gills himself (more generally called old Sol) was far from having a maritime appearance. To say nothing of his Welsh wig, which was as plain and stubborn a Welsh wig as ever was worn, and in which he looked like anything but a Rover, he was a slow, quiet-spoken, thoughtful old fellow, with eyes as red as if they had been small suns looking at you through a fog; and a newly-awakened manner, such as he might have acquired by having stared for three or four days successively through every optical instrument in his shop, and suddenly came back to the world again, to find it green. The only change ever known in his outward man, was from a complete suit of coffee-colour cut very square, and ornamented with glaring buttons, to the same suit of coffee-colour minus the inexpressibles, which were then of a pale nankeen. He wore a very precise shirt-frill, and carried a pair of first-rate spectacles on his forehead, and a tremendous chronometer in his fob, rather than doubt which precious possession, he would have believed in a conspiracy against it on part of all the clocks and watches in the City, and even of the very Sun itself. Such as he was, such he had been in the shop and parlour behind the little Midshipman, for years upon years; going regularly aloft to bed every night in a howling garret remote from the lodgers, where, when gentlemen of England who lived below at ease had little or no idea of the state of the weather, it often blew great guns.
It is half-past five o'clock, and an autumn afternoon, when the reader and Solomon Gills become acquainted. Solomon Gills is in the act of seeing what time it is by the unimpeachable chronometer. The usual daily clearance has been making in the City for an hour or more; and the human tide is still rolling westward. 'The streets have thinned,' as Mr Gills says, 'very much.' It threatens to be wet to-night. All the weatherglasses in the shop are in low spirits, and the rain already shines upon the cocked hat of the wooden Midshipman.
'Where's Walter, I wonder!' said Solomon Gills, after he had carefully put up the chronometer again. 'Here's dinner been ready, half an hour, and no Walter!'
Turning round upon his stool behind the counter, Mr Gills looked out among the instruments in the window, to see if his nephew might be crossing the road. No. He was not among the bobbing umbrellas, and he certainly was not the newspaper boy in the oilskin cap who was slowly working his way along the piece of brass outside, writing his name over Mr Gills's name with his forefinger.
'If I didn't know he was too fond of me to make a run of it, and go and enter himself aboard ship against my wishes, I should begin to be fidgetty,' said Mr Gills, tapping two or three weather-glasses with his knuckles. 'I really should. All in the Downs, eh! Lots of moisture! Well! it's wanted.'
I believe,' said Mr Gills, blowing the dust off the glass top of a compass-case, 'that you don't point more direct and due to the back parlour than the boy's inclination does after all. And the parlour couldn't bear straighter either. Due north. Not the twentieth part of a point either way.'
'Halloa, Uncle Sol!'
'Halloa, my boy!' cried the Instrument-maker, turning briskly round. 'What! you are here, are you?'
A cheerful looking, merry boy, fresh with running home in the rain; fair-faced, bright-eyed, and curly-haired.
'Well, Uncle, how have you got on without me all day? Is dinner ready? I'm so hungry.'
'As to getting on,' said Solomon good-naturedly, 'it would be odd if I couldn't get on without a young dog like you a great deal better than with you. As to dinner being ready, it's been ready this half hour and waiting for you. As to being hungry, I am!'
'Come along then, Uncle!' cried the boy. 'Hurrah for the admiral!'
'Confound the admiral!' returned Solomon Gills. 'You mean the Lord Mayor.'
'No I don't!' cried the boy. 'Hurrah for the admiral! Hurrah for the admiral! For-ward!'
At this word of command, the Welsh wig and its wearer were borne without resistance into the back parlour, as at the head of a boarding party of five hundred men; and Uncle Sol and his nephew were speedily engaged on a fried sole with a prospect of steak to follow.
'The Lord Mayor, Wally,' said Solomon, 'for ever! No more admirals. The Lord Mayor's your admiral.'
'Oh, is he though!' said the boy, shaking his head. 'Why, the Sword Bearer's better than him. He draws his sword sometimes.
'And a pretty figure he cuts with it for his pains,' returned the Uncle. 'Listen to me, Wally, listen to me. Look on the mantelshelf.'
'Why who has cocked my silver mug up there, on a nail?' exclaimed the boy.
I have,' said his Uncle. 'No more mugs now. We must begin to drink out of glasses to-day, Walter. We are men of business. We belong to the City. We started in life this morning.
'Well, Uncle,' said the boy, 'I'll drink out of anything you like, so long as I can drink to you. Here's to you, Uncle Sol, and Hurrah for the
'Lord Mayor,' interrupted the old man.
'For the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, Common Council, and Livery,' said the boy. 'Long life to 'em!'
The uncle nodded his head with great satisfaction. 'And now,' he said, 'let's hear something about the Firm.'
'Oh! there's not much to be told about the Firm, Uncle,' said the boy, plying his knife and fork.' It's a precious dark set of offices, and in the room where I sit, there's a high fender, and an iron safe, and some cards about ships that are going to sail, and an almanack, and some desks and stools, and an inkbottle, and some books, and some boxes, and a lot of cobwebs, and in one of 'em, just over my head, a shrivelled-up blue-bottle that looks as if it had hung there ever so long.'
'Nothing else?' said the Uncle.
'No, nothing else, except an old birdcage (I wonder how that ever came there!) and a coal-scuttle.'
'No bankers' books, or cheque books, or bills, or such tokens of wealth rolling in from day to day?' said old Sol, looking wistfully at his nephew out of the fog that always seemed to hang about him, and laying an unctuous emphasis upon the words.
'Oh yes, plenty of that I suppose,' returned his nephew carelessly; 'but all that sort of thing's in Mr Carker's room, or Mr Morfin's, or MR Dombey's.'
'Has Mr Dombey been there to-day?' inquired the Uncle.
'Oh yes! In and out all day.'
'He didn't take any notice of you, I suppose?'.
'Yes he did. He walked up to my seat, - I wish he wasn't so solemn and stiff, Uncle, - and said, "Oh! you are the son of Mr Gills the Ships' Instrument-maker." "Nephew, Sir," I said. "I said nephew, boy," said he. But I could take my oath he said son, Uncle.'
'You're mistaken I daresay. It's no matter.
'No, it's no matter, but he needn't have been so sharp, I thought. There was no harm in it though he did say son. Then he told me that you had spoken to him about me, and that he had found me employment in the House accordingly, and that I was expected to be attentive and punctual, and then he went away. I thought he didn't seem to like me much.'
'You mean, I suppose,' observed the Instrument-maker, 'that you didn't seem to like him much?'
'Well, Uncle,' returned the boy, laughing. 'Perhaps so; I never thought of that.'
Solomon looked a little graver as he finished his dinner, and glanced from time to time at the boy's bright face. When dinner was done, and the cloth was cleared away (the entertainment had been brought from a neighbouring eating-house), he lighted a candle, and went down below into a little cellar, while his nephew, standing on the mouldy staircase, dutifully held the light. After a moment's groping here and there, he presently returned with a very ancient-looking bottle, covered with dust and dirt.
'Why, Uncle Sol!' said the boy, 'what are you about? that's the wonderful Madeira! - there's only one more bottle!'
Uncle Sol nodded his head, implying that he knew very well what he was about; and having drawn the cork in solemn silence, filled two glasses and set the bottle and a third clean glass on the table.
'You shall drink the other bottle, Wally,' he said, 'when you come to good fortune; when you are a thriving, respected, happy man; when the start in life you have made to-day shall have brought you, as I pray Heaven it may! - to a smooth part of the course you have to run, my child. My love to you!'
Some of the fog that hung about old Sol seemed to have got into his throat; for he spoke huskily. His hand shook too, as he clinked his glass against his nephew's. But having once got the wine to his lips, he tossed it off like a man, and smacked them afterwards.
'Dear Uncle,' said the boy, affecting to make light of it, while the tears stood in his eyes, 'for the honour you have done me, et cetera, et cetera. I shall now beg to propose Mr Solomon Gills with three times three and one cheer more. Hurrah! and you'll return thanks, Uncle, when we drink the last bottle together; won't you?'
They clinked their glasses again; and Walter, who was hoarding his wine, took a sip of it, and held the glass up to his eye with as critical an air as he could possibly assume.
His Uncle sat looking at him for some time in silence. When their eyes at last met, he began at once to pursue the theme that had occupied his thoughts, aloud, as if he had been speaking all the time.
'You see, Walter,' he said, 'in truth this business is merely a habit with me. I am so accustomed to the habit that I could hardly live if I relinquished it: but there's nothing doing, nothing doing. When that uniform was worn,' pointing out towards the little Midshipman, 'then indeed, fortunes were to be made, and were made. But competition, competition - new invention, new invention - alteration, alteration - the world's gone past me. I hardly know where I am myself, much less where my customers are.
'Never mind 'em, Uncle!'
'Since you came home from weekly boarding-school at Peckham, for instance - and that's ten days,' said Solomon, 'I don't remember more than one person that has come into the shop.'
'Two, Uncle, don't you recollect? There was the man who came to ask for change for a sovereign - '
'That's the one,' said Solomon.
'Why Uncle! don't you call the woman anybody, who came to ask the way to Mile-End Turnpike?'
'Oh! it's true,' said Solomon, 'I forgot her. Two persons.'
'To be sure, they didn't buy anything,' cried the boy.
'No. They didn't buy anything,' said Solomon, quietly.
'Nor want anything,' cried the boy.
'No. If they had, they'd gone to another shop,' said Solomon, in the same tone.
'But there were two of 'em, Uncle,' cried the boy, as if that were a great triumph. 'You said only one.'
'Well, Wally,' resumed the old man, after a short pause: 'not being like the Savages who came on Robinson Crusoe's Island, we can't live on a man who asks for change for a sovereign, and a woman who inquires the way to Mile-End Turnpike. As I said just now, the world has gone past me. I don't blame it; but I no longer understand it. Tradesmen are not the same as they used to be, apprentices are not the same, business is not the same, business commodities are not the same. Seven-eighths of my stock is old-fashioned. I am an old-fashioned man in an old-fashioned shop, in a street that is not the same as I remember it. I have fallen behind the time, and am too old to catch it again. Even the noise it makes a long way ahead, confuses me.'
Walter was going to speak, but his Uncle held up his hand.
'Therefore, Wally - therefore it is that I am anxious you should be early in the busy world, and on the world's track. I am only the ghost of this business - its substance vanished long ago; and when I die, its ghost will be laid. As it is clearly no inheritance for you then, I have thought it best to use for your advantage, almost the only fragment of the old connexion that stands by me, through long habit. Some people suppose me to be wealthy. I wish for your sake they were right. But whatever I leave behind me, or whatever I can give you, you in such a House as Dombey's are in the road to use well and make the most of. Be diligent, try to like it, my dear boy, work for a steady independence, and be happy!'
'I'll do everything I can, Uncle, to deserve your affection. Indeed I will,' said the boy, earnestly
'I know it,' said Solomon. 'I am sure of it,' and he applied himself to a second glass of the old Madeira, with increased relish. 'As to the Sea,' he pursued, 'that's well enough in fiction, Wally, but it won't do in fact: it won't do at all. It's natural enough that you should think about it, associating it with all these familiar things; but it won't do, it won't do.'
Solomon Gills rubbed his hands with an air of stealthy enjoyment, as he talked of the sea, though; and looked on the seafaring objects about him with inexpressible complacency.
'Think of this wine for instance,' said old Sol, 'which has been to the East Indies and back, I'm not able to say how often, and has been once round the world. Think of the pitch-dark nights, the roaring winds, and rolling seas:'
'The thunder, lightning, rain, hail, storm of all kinds,' said the boy.
'To be sure,' said Solomon, - 'that this wine has passed through. Think what a straining and creaking of timbers and masts: what a whistling and howling of the gale through ropes and rigging:'
'What a clambering aloft of men, vying with each other who shall lie out first upon the yards to furl the icy sails, while the ship rolls and pitches, like mad!' cried his nephew.
'Exactly so,' said Solomon: 'has gone on, over the old cask that held this wine. Why, when the Charming Sally went down in the - '
'In the Baltic Sea, in the dead of night; five-and-twenty minutes past twelve when the captain's watch stopped in his pocket; he lying dead against the main-mast - on the fourteenth of February, seventeen forty-nine!' cried Walter, with great animation.
'Ay, to be sure!' cried old Sol, 'quite right! Then, there were five hundred casks of such wine aboard; and all hands (except the first mate, first lieutenant, two seamen, and a lady, in a leaky boat) going to work to stave the casks, got drunk and died drunk, singing "Rule Britannia", when she settled and went down, and ending with one awful scream in chorus.'
'But when the George the Second drove ashore, Uncle, on the coast of Cornwall, in a dismal gale, two hours before daybreak, on the fourth of March, 'seventy-one, she had near two hundred horses aboard; and the horses breaking loose down below, early in the gale, and tearing to and fro, and trampling each other to death, made such noises, and set up such human cries, that the crew believing the ship to be full of devils, some of the best men, losing heart and head, went overboard in despair, and only two were left alive, at last, to tell the tale.'
'And when,' said old Sol, 'when the Polyphemus - '
'Private West India Trader, burden three hundred and fifty tons, Captain, John Brown of Deptford. Owners, Wiggs and Co.,' cried Walter.
'The same,' said Sol; 'when she took fire, four days' sail with a fair wind out of Jamaica Harbour, in the night - '
'There were two brothers on board,' interposed his nephew, speaking very fast and loud, 'and there not being room for both of them in the only boat that wasn't swamped, neither of them would consent to go, until the elder took the younger by the waist, and flung him in. And then the younger, rising in the boat, cried out, "Dear Edward, think of your promised wife at home. I'm only a boy. No one waits at home for me. Leap down into my place!" and flung himself in the sea!'
The kindling eye and heightened colour of the boy, who had risen from his seat in the earnestness of what he said and felt, seemed to remind old Sol of something he had forgotten, or that his encircling mist had hitherto shut out. Instead of proceeding with any more anecdotes, as he had evidently intended but a moment before, he gave a short dry cough, and said, 'Well! suppose we change the subject.'
The truth was, that the simple-minded Uncle in his secret attraction towards the marvellous and adventurous - of which he was, in some sort, a distant relation, by his trade - had greatly encouraged the same attraction in the nephew; and that everything that had ever been put before the boy to deter him from a life of adventure, had had the usual unaccountable effect of sharpening his taste for it. This is invariable. It would seem as if there never was a book written, or a story told, expressly with the object of keeping boys on shore, which did not lure and charm them to the ocean, as a matter of course.
But an addition to the little party now made its appearance, in the shape of a gentleman in a wide suit of blue, with a hook instead of a hand attached to his right wrist; very bushy black eyebrows; and a thick stick in his left hand, covered all over (like his nose) with knobs. He wore a loose black silk handkerchief round his neck, and such a very large coarse shirt collar, that it looked like a small sail. He was evidently the person for whom the spare wine-glass was intended, and evidently knew it; for having taken off his rough outer coat, and hung up, on a particular peg behind the door, such a hard glazed hat as a sympathetic person's head might ache at the sight of, and which left a red rim round his own forehead as if he had been wearing a tight basin, he brought a chair to where the clean glass was, and sat himself down behind it. He was usually addressed as Captain, this visitor; and had been a pilot, or a skipper, or a privateersman, or all three perhaps; and was a very salt-looking man indeed.
His face, remarkable for a brown solidity, brightened as he shook hands with Uncle and nephew; but he seemed to be of a laconic disposition, and merely said:
'How goes it?'
'All well,' said Mr Gills, pushing the bottle towards him.
He took it up, and having surveyed and smelt it, said with extraordinary expression:
'The?'
'The,' returned the Instrument-maker.
Upon that he whistled as he filled his glass, and seemed to think they were making holiday indeed.
'Wal'r!' he said, arranging his hair (which was thin) with his hook, and then pointing it at the Instrument-maker, 'Look at him! Love! Honour! And Obey! Overhaul your catechism till you find that passage, and when found turn the leaf down. Success, my boy!'
He was so perfectly satisfied both with his quotation and his reference to it, that he could not help repeating the words again in a low voice, and saying he had forgotten 'em these forty year.
'But I never wanted two or three words in my life that I didn't know where to lay my hand upon 'em, Gills,' he observed. 'It comes of not wasting language as some do.'
The reflection perhaps reminded him that he had better, like young Norval's father, '"ncrease his store." At any rate he became silent, and remained so, until old Sol went out into the shop to light it up, when he turned to Walter, and said, without any introductory remark:
'I suppose he could make a clock if he tried?'
'I shouldn't wonder, Captain Cuttle,' returned the boy.
'And it would go!' said Captain Cuttle, making a species of serpent in the air with his hook. 'Lord, how that clock would go!'
For a moment or two he seemed quite lost in contemplating the pace of this ideal timepiece, and sat looking at the boy as if his face were the dial.
'But he's chockful of science,' he observed, waving his hook towards the stock-in-trade. 'Look'ye here! Here's a collection of 'em. Earth, air, or water. It's all one. Only say where you'll have it. Up in a balloon? There you are. Down in a bell? There you are. D'ye want to put the North Star in a pair of scales and weigh it? He'll do it for you.'
It may be gathered from these remarks that Captain Cuttle's reverence for the stock of instruments was profound, and that his philosophy knew little or no distinction between trading in it and inventing it.
'Ah!' he said, with a sigh, 'it's a fine thing to understand 'em. And yet it's a fine thing not to understand 'em. I hardly know which is best. It's so comfortable to sit here and feel that you might be weighed, measured, magnified, electrified, polarized, played the very devil with: and never know how.'
Nothing short of the wonderful Madeira, combined with the occasion (which rendered it desirable to improve and expand Walter's mind), could have ever loosened his tongue to the extent of giving utterance to this prodigious oration. He seemed quite amazed himself at the manner in which it opened up to view the sources of the taciturn delight he had had in eating Sunday dinners in that parlour for ten years. Becoming a sadder and a wiser man, he mused and held his peace.
'Come!' cried the subject of this admiration, returning. 'Before you have your glass of grog, Ned, we must finish the bottle.'
'Stand by!' said Ned, filling his glass. 'Give the boy some more.'
'No more, thank'e, Uncle!'
'Yes, yes,' said Sol, 'a little more. We'll finish the bottle, to the House, Ned - Walter's House. Why it may be his House one of these days, in part. Who knows? Sir Richard Whittington married his master's daughter.'
'"Turn again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London, and when you are old you will never depart from it,"' interposed the Captain. 'Wal'r! Overhaul the book, my lad.'
'And although Mr Dombey hasn't a daughter,' Sol began.
'Yes, yes, he has, Uncle,' said the boy, reddening and laughing.
'Has he?' cried the old man. 'Indeed I think he has too.
'Oh! I know he has,' said the boy. 'Some of 'em were talking about it in the office today. And they do say, Uncle and Captain Cuttle,' lowering his voice, 'that he's taken a dislike to her, and that she's left, unnoticed, among the servants, and that his mind's so set all the while upon having his son in the House, that although he's only a baby now, he is going to have balances struck oftener than formerly, and the books kept closer than they used to be, and has even been seen (when he thought he wasn't) walking in the Docks, looking at his ships and property and all that, as if he was exulting like, over what he and his son will possess together. That's what they say. Of course, I don't know.
'He knows all about her already, you see,' said the instrument-maker.
'Nonsense, Uncle,' cried the boy, still reddening and laughing, boy-like. 'How can I help hearing what they tell me?'
'The Son's a little in our way at present, I'm afraid, Ned,' said the old man, humouring the joke.
'Very much,' said the Captain.
'Nevertheless, we'll drink him,' pursued Sol. 'So, here's to Dombey and Son.'
'Oh, very well, Uncle,' said the boy, merrily. 'Since you have introduced the mention of her, and have connected me with her and have said that I know all about her, I shall make bold to amend the toast. So here's to Dombey - and Son - and Daughter!'
 
虽然董贝父子公司的营业所位于伦敦城的辖区之内，鲍教堂①的钟所发出的响亮声音在没有被街道的喧嚣淹没时，在这里是可以听得见的，但在邻近某些地方仍然可以看得见英勇冒险、情节离奇的传说的遗迹。高格和马高格②的尊严神态，在十分钟步行的距离之内就可以看见；伦敦皇家交易所就在近旁；英格兰银行是它最宏伟的近邻，它地下的保险库中，“在下面的空瓶子中间③”，装满了金银。在街道拐角上矗立着富有的东印度公司④，它使人接连不断地联想起贵重的织物、宝石、老虎、象、象轿⑤、水烟筒、雨伞、棕榈树、四人或六人抬的大轿，还有那皮肤褐色、坐在地毯上的豪华的王子们，他们的便鞋前端是高高翘起的。在邻近的任何地方都可以看到画着张满风帆、飞速驶向世界各地的船舶的图画，也可以看到旅行用品仓库，它们可以在半小时之内把任何人到任何地方去所需要的旅行用品装备齐全；还可以看到在航海仪器制造商人的店门外有一些小小的、木制的海军军官候补生，穿着陈旧过时的海军制服，永远在监视着出租马车。
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①鲍教堂（BowChurch）：位于伦敦市中心；它的钟声所及之处，就是伦敦市的市区。
②高格和马高格（GogandMagog）：是伦敦市政厅门前的两个木雕巨像；相传马格是过去的君王，马高格是另一位传说中的英雄。
③这是古老的祝酒词中的话语。
④东印度公司（EastIndiaHouse）：存在于1600年至1858年的英国贸易公司。公司长期垄断了对印度的贸易，并操纵了这个国家最重要的管理职能。
⑤象轿：驮在象背上可供数人乘坐的凉亭状座位。
有些海军军官候补生的模拟像我们可以不客气地称为最像木头那样死板的，它们以一种使人极难以忍受的谦恭有礼的神气，伸出右腿，矗立在人行道上；它们的鞋扣和带翻领的背心的式样是人们的理智最难以接受的；它们还拿了一件仪器，放在右眼附近，那仪器的大小十分不合比例，使人看了极为不快。在这些模拟像当中，有一个模拟像的唯一的主人与所有者，也就是说那个海军军官候补生的唯一的主人与所有者（他以他而感到自豪），是一位上了年纪、带威尔士假发的、有身份的先生；他支付房租、税金和应付费用的时间比许多有血有肉、完全长大成人的海军军官候补生的年龄还长；在英国海军中，年富力强的海军军官候补生是并不缺少的。
这位老先生的存货包括精密计时表、晴雨表、望远镜、罗盘、航海图、地图、六分仪、象限仪，以及用于确定船舶航线、进行船舶计算、研究船舶所在地的各种仪器的样品。在他的抽屉中和架子上存放着铜制的与玻璃制的物品；除了那些具有初步知识的人以外，谁也不能找出它们的顶部，或猜出它们的使用方法，或在看过它们之后，在没有帮助的情况下，能放回到它们桃花心木制的老窝里去。每一件东西都被塞进最紧凑的箱子中，装到最狭窄的角落里，后面用最不得当的软垫防护着，并用螺丝拧紧到最尖锐的角中，以防止它那像哲学家般的沉着镇静被海洋的滚滚波涛所扰乱。在所有的情况下都采取了这种不同寻常的预防措施，以便节省地方，把东西摆得紧凑。一切都适合于实际航行的要求，都用软垫防护，并都紧紧拧进每个箱子中（不论它们像有些箱子那样，是普通的四角形箱子，还是像另一些箱子那样，有些像三角帽、有些像海星的东西，或者是那些与其他箱子比较起来比较温柔和不大的箱子）；因此，在这种总的气氛的影响下，这个店铺本身似乎几乎都要变成一个温暖舒适、适于航海的、船舶形状的商店了，在突然下水的情况下，所缺少的只是足够行船的水面，能使它安全行驶到世界上任何一个荒岛上去。
这位对他的小海军军官候补生感到自豪的船舶仪器制造商的家庭生活中的许多细小情节，也加深和突出这样一种幻觉。他的熟人主要是船具商之类的人，所以他在餐桌上经常摆放着许多真正在船上吃的饼干。餐桌上也经常有肉干和舌干，散发出绳子麻线的气味；酸菜是用很大的批发的坛子端到餐桌上来的，坛子上贴着印有“经销船上各种食品”字样的标签；烈酒是用没有瓶颈的方瓶子端上的。墙上挂着的画框中是描绘船舶的老版画，船舶上的字母是指明各种秘密的；盘子上画着在前进中的鞑靼快速帆船；壁炉架上装饰着奇异的贝壳、海藻和苔藓；装有护壁板的小后客厅，像船舱一样，光线是从天窗中射进来的。
他像小商船的船长一样，和他的外甥沃尔特住在这里，没有别的人。沃尔特是一位十四岁的男孩子，他那副神态活像是一位海军军官候补生，这也进一步加深了上述总的印象。但事情到这里也就完结了，因为所罗门•吉尔斯本人（人们通常更喜欢管他叫老所尔），根本没有一位航海人员的外貌。他那威尔士假发自然不消说了，那是威尔士假发中最普通、最难梳理的，他带上它看上去一点也不像海盗。从其他方面来看，他是个慢条斯理，讲话平平静静，并喜爱思考的老人；他的眼睛红红的，仿佛是穿过迷雾看着您的小太阳；他的神态像是刚刚被唤醒的样子，如果他通过店中每一架光学仪器连续凝视三、四天之后，突然重新回到周围的世界上，发现它一片绿色的话，那么他就可能呈现出这样的神态。他的外表中唯一可以看到的变化是，他原来全身上下穿着一套咖啡色的服装，裁剪得宽松肥大，上面装饰着发亮的扣子，现在则仍旧穿着那同样咖啡色的上衣，但裤子却换成颜色较淡的本色布做的了。他衬衫的褶边整整齐齐；前额上架着一副最上等的眼镜；裤上的表袋中装着一只很大的精密计时表，他宁肯相信伦敦城里所有的钟表，甚至太阳都共同密谋来跟它作对，也决不会对他这个宝贵的财产产生怀疑。他现在就像过去一样，年复一年地这样待在这个小小的海军军官候补生身后的店铺中和客厅里；每天夜里他定时爬上远离其他房客的一个凄凉的顶楼中去睡觉，当安安逸逸住在下面的英国的先生们很少想到，或根本没有想到天气怎样的时候，这顶楼上却常常刮大风。
读者与所罗门•吉尔斯认识是在一个秋天下午的五点半钟。所罗门•吉尔斯那时正在看他那只完美无缺的精密计时表，看看是什么时候了。城市照常每天一次向外疏散人群，已经进行了一个小时或更长久一些；人的浪潮仍然向西滚滚流动着。就像吉尔斯先生所说的，“街上的人已经稀少得多了。”今天晚上好像要下雨。店铺里所有的晴雨表都呈现出垂头丧气的神态。雨滴已经在木制海军军官候补生的三角帽上闪耀着亮光。
“不知道沃尔特在哪里！”吉尔斯把精密计时表重新小心地藏好以后，说道，“晚饭已经准备好半个小时了，可是却不见沃尔特！”
吉尔斯先生在柜台后面的凳子上转过身子，通过橱窗中的仪器往外看，看看他的外甥是不是正在穿越马路。没有。他没有在那些摆动的雨伞中间。他也决不是那个戴油布帽子、卖报的男孩子，那男孩子正沿着外面的铜牌慢吞吞地走过去，并且用食指把自己的姓名写在吉尔斯先生的姓名上面。
“如果我不知道，他太爱我了，不会逃跑，也不会违反我的意愿，自己跑到船上去的话，那么我真要开始坐立不安了，”吉尔斯先生用指关节轻轻敲打着两、三个晴雨表。“我真会的！全都在很低的度数①，啊！湿气真大！唔，是需要下雨了。”
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①原文为AllintheDowns，吉尔斯这样说是指晴雨表中的度数很低，但这又是英国剧作家和诗人约翰•盖伊（JohnGay，1685—1732年）著名叙事诗《温存的威廉和黑眼睛的苏珊告别》（SweetWiliam’sFarewelltoBlack－eyedSusan）中开头的诗句，意为“船队全都在唐斯”。唐斯（theDowns）是英法之间多佛海峡的一部分，为船舶停泊处。狄更斯采用这种文字表现方法，是为了使读者感到幽默有趣。
“我觉得，”吉尔斯先生把一个罗盘匣子玻璃顶上的灰尘吹去，说道，“孩子总是喜欢跑到后客厅里去，你毕竟不能比他更直接更准确地指向后客厅。后客厅的方向是不能更正确的了。正北，不向其他方向偏离二十分之一度！”
“喂，所尔舅舅！”
“喂，我的孩子！”仪器制造商轻快地转过身去，喊道，“啊，你回来了，是吗？”
这是个兴致勃勃、快快活活的男孩子，由于冒雨回家来，显得十分精神；他的脸白嫩、漂亮，眼睛明亮，头发卷曲。
“唔，舅舅，我不在，你整天是怎么过的？晚饭好了吗？
我饿极了。”
“说到这一天怎么过嘛，”所罗门和颜悦色地说道，“如果像你这样一条小狗不在，我不能过得比你在的时候好得多，那就怪了。说到晚饭好了没有嘛，它已经准备好半个钟头了，正在等着你呢。说到饿嘛，•我也一样！”
“那么来吧，舅舅！”孩子喊道，“海军上将万岁！”
“去你的海军上将！”所罗门•吉尔斯回答道。“你是想说市长先生吧。”
“不，我不是想说他！”孩子喊道。“海军上将万岁！海军上将万岁！前——进！”
这道命令一下，威尔士假发和它的佩戴者就立刻毫无抵抗地被带领到后客厅去，就好像走在由五百人组成的攻入敌船的队伍的最前面似的；然后所尔舅舅和他的外甥很快就开始吃起煎箬鳎鱼来；旁边摆着的牛排是他们的下一道菜。
“永远是市长，沃利，”所罗门说道，“不要再提海军上将了。市长就是•你•的海军上将。”
“哦，难道是这样吗？”孩子摇摇头，说道，“唔，捧剑侍从也比市长强些。捧剑侍从有时还能抽出•他•们的剑来。”
“尽管他费尽力气，但还是显出一副愚蠢的样子，”舅舅回答道。“听我说，沃利，听我说。看那壁炉架。”
“哎呀，谁把我的银杯子挂在钉子上了？”孩子高声喊道。
“我挂的，”他的舅舅说道。“现在不用这种有柄的大杯子了。从今天起我们必须用玻璃杯喝了，沃尔特。我们是做生意的人。我们属于伦敦市。从今天早上起，我们开始过新的生活了。”
“好吧，舅舅，”孩子说道，“只要我能为你祝福就行，我可以用任何你喜欢的东西来喝。现在，所尔舅舅。为你的健康干杯！我还要为——”
“为市长欢呼。”老人打断他的话。
“为市长，为名誉郡长，为市参议会，为同业工会会员欢呼！”孩子说道，“祝他们万岁！”
舅舅十分满意地点点头。“现在，”他说道，“让我来听你谈谈公司的什么事情吧。”
“啊！公司的事情没有什么好谈的，舅舅，”孩子使用着刀和叉，说道，“那里有好多非常阴暗的办公室；在我坐的那个房间里，有一个很高的火炉围栏，一个铁的保险柜，一些关于即将启航的商船公告，一个日历，几张写字台和凳子，一个墨水瓶，几本书，几个箱子，还有好多蜘蛛网，其中有一个正好在我的头顶，里面有一只干瘪的青蝇，看上去挂在那里已经好久了。”
“没有别的了吗？”舅舅问道。
“是的，没有别的了，不过还有一只旧的鸟笼子，我不知道它怎么到那里去的！还有一个煤桶。”
“难道就没有银行存折、支票簿、证券或者其他象征着每天滚滚涌进来的财富之类的东西吗？”老所尔说道，一边通过那永远好像笼罩在他的四周的迷雾，渴望了解似地望着他的外甥，并故意讨好地强调那些词儿。
“啊是的，我想那会有好多，”他的外甥漫不经心地回答道，“不过所有那些东西都是在卡克先生的房间里，或者在莫芬先生的房间里，或者在董贝先生的房间里。”
“董贝先生今天在那里吗？”舅舅问道。
“啊是的。整天进进出出。”
“我想他没有注意到你吧。”
“不，他注意到了。他走到我的坐位跟前——我真但愿他不那么严肃，不那么生硬呆板，舅舅——，说，‘哦！您就是船舶仪器制造商吉尔斯先生的儿子吧。’我说，‘他的外甥，先生。’他说，‘我是说外甥，孩子。’但是，舅舅，我可以发誓，他确实是说儿子。”
“我想是你弄错了，这不要紧。”
“是的，这不要紧，但是我想，他不用那么严厉。虽然他确实是说儿子，但这话倒不含有什么恶意。然后他告诉我，你曾经对他说到我，因此他就在公司里给我找了个工作；他希望我勤勤恳恳工作，按时上班下班，然后他就走开了。我觉得他好像不是很喜欢我。”
“我想，你的意思是想说，”仪器制造商说道，“你好像不很喜欢他吧？”
“唔，舅舅，”孩子大笑着回答道，“也许是的。我从没有想到过这一点。”
所罗门吃完晚饭的时候，神情比刚才沉着一些；他不时向孩子快活的脸看一眼。当晚餐已经结束，桌布已经撤走（这顿饭菜是从邻近的小餐馆里取来的）以后，他点亮了一支蜡烛，下楼走到一个小地窖里；他的外甥则站在生了霉的楼梯上，孝顺地拿着蜡烛照他；他这里那里摸索了一番之后，不久就拿着一个样子很古老并积满了灰尘的瓶子回来了。
“哎呀，所尔舅舅！”孩子说道，“你想干什么？那是珍贵的马德拉白葡萄酒①呀！那里只剩下一瓶了。”
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①马德拉（Madeira）是在非洲西北部大西洋中的一个岛，所产的葡萄酒很有名。
所尔舅舅点点头，表示他很清楚他想干什么。在一片肃静中，他拔出软木塞，倒满了两只玻璃杯，然后把酒瓶和第三只干净的空玻璃杯放在桌子上。
“沃利，”他说道，“当你交了好运的时候，当你成为一个取得成功、受人尊敬、生活幸福的人的时候，当你今天在生活中已经迈出的第一步将把你引向一条康庄大道上去的时候——我向上天祈祷，它会把你引向那里去的——，你将喝另外那瓶酒，我的孩子。为我对你的爱干杯！”
老所尔周围笼罩着的迷雾，有些似乎已经跑到他的喉咙里去了，因为他讲话的声音干哑了。当他和外甥碰杯时，他的手也哆嗦了。但是当他把酒杯一举到唇边的时候，他却像堂堂男子汉一样，一口喝光，然后咂咂嘴。
“亲爱的舅舅，”孩子眼中含着泪水，但却故意装出没把这件事放在心上的样子，说道，“为了感谢你对我所表示的恩情，等等，等等，我现在建议为所罗门•吉尔斯先生欢呼三乘三次再加一次。万岁！舅舅，当我们一起喝那最后一瓶酒的时候，你再来回敬我的这次祝酒，好吗？”
他们又碰了杯；沃尔特杯子里还剩着酒，他啜了一口，尽可能装出一副很有鉴别力的神气，把杯子举到眼睛前面。
他的舅舅坐在那里默默地看了他一些时候。当他们的眼光最终相遇时，他立刻开始把他脑子里思考的问题大声地继续说下去，仿佛他一直在说话似的。
“你知道，沃尔特，”他说道，“老实说，经营这个生意对我来说，是一种习惯。我在这个习惯中已经陷得很深，如果我抛弃了它的话，那么我就难以活下去。可是现在没有生意呀，没有生意。当穿那种制服的时候，”他指着小海军军官候补生说道，“确实，那时候是可以发财的，我也真的发了财。可是竞争呀，竞争呀——新发明呀，新发明呀，——改变呀，改变呀，——这世界已经从我的身边走过去了。我不知道我自己现在在哪里，更不知道我的顾客现在在哪里。”
“别去想那些事情，舅舅！”
“举个例子来说吧，你从佩克姆①寄宿学校②回家以后，已有十天了，”所罗门说道，“在这十天中，我记得只有一个人到这店里来过”。
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①佩克姆（Peckham）：伦敦郊区的地方。
②原文为weeklyboardingschool，是指一个星期寄宿六天的学校。
“两个人，舅舅。你不记得了吗？不有个男子到这里来请求把一镑换成零钱——”
“就是那个人，”所罗门说道。
“怎么，舅勇！有一位女人到这里来问到迈尔•恩德收税栅的路怎么走法，难道你认为她就不是人吗？”
“噢！不错，”所罗门说道，“我把她给忘了。总共两个人。”
“当然，他们什么也没有买，”孩子喊道。
“是的，他们什么也没有买，”所罗门平静地说道。
“他们也不想买什么东西，”孩子喊道。
“是的。如果他们想买的话，那么他们会到别的店铺里去买的，”所罗门用同样的声调说道。
“不过他们是两个人呀，舅舅，”孩子喊道，仿佛那是个很大的胜利似的。“你刚才却说只有一个人。”
“唔，沃利，”老人在短时间的沉默之后继续说道，“我们不像到鲁滨孙•克鲁索①荒岛上去的野人那样，不能靠一位请求把一镑换成零钱的男子和一位问到迈尔•恩德收税栅的路怎么走法的女人来生活。我刚才说过，这世界已经从我身边走过去了。我不责怪它；但我不再了解它了。商人和过去的不一样了；徒弟和过去的不一样了；商业和过去的不一样了，商品和过去的不一样了。我的存货八分之七都是老式的。我们这条街和我记得的过去的那一条街已经不一样了；我是这条街上一个老式的店铺中的一位老式的人。我已经落在时间的后面了，我太老了，不能再赶上它了。甚至它在前面很远的地方所发出的声音也把我搞糊涂了。”
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①鲁滨孙•克鲁索（RobinsonCrusoe）：是英国作家丹尼尔•笛福（DanielDefoe，1660—1731年）所著小说《鲁滨孙漂流记》中的主人翁，他在一个杳无人烟的荒岛上度过了二十八年。
沃尔特想要讲话，但是他的舅舅举起了手。
“因此，沃利——因此，我渴望让你尽早到这个忙忙碌碌的世界里去，尽早走上这个世界的道路。我只是这个商店的一个幽灵——它的实体很久以前就已消亡了。当我死了的时候，它的幽灵就被埋葬了。很明显，那时候我将没有什么遗产留给你，因此我想，为了你的利益，最好利用我通过长期的习惯所保留下来的几乎唯一还存在的一丁点儿老关系。有些人认为我是富有的。为了你的缘故，我但愿他们是对的。可是不论我在死后会留下什么，也不论我能给你什么，你在董贝这样的公司里工作，就有可能好好地使用它，充分地利用它。我亲爱的孩子，做一个勤勉的人，设法喜爱你的事业吧，为了过长久的独立的生活而工作，并成为一个幸福的人吧！”
“我将尽量去做我所能做的一切，不辜负你对我的深情厚意，舅舅。我确实将会这样去做的，”孩子恳切地说道。
“我知道这一点，”所罗门说道，“我相信这一点，”他更加津津有味地喝着第二杯马德拉陈酒。“至于海洋，”他继续说道，“它在想象中是很好的，沃利，但实际上却并不是那样，根本不是那样的。你想到海洋，把它跟所有这些熟悉的东西联系起来，这是很自然的；但实际上它并不是那样的，它并不是那样的。”
可是所罗门•吉尔斯在谈到海洋的时候，却露出内心暗暗欣喜的神态，搓着手，并且怀着难以形容的踌躇满志的心情看着周围的航海物品。
“例如，想一想这葡萄酒吧，”老所尔说道，“我不知道它有多少次被运到东印度群岛，然后又运回来，有一次还周游了全世界。想一想那漆黑的夜，那怒吼的风和那滚滚的波涛吧！”
“想一想那雷，那闪电，那雨，那冰雹和那狂风暴雨吧！”
孩子说道。
“毫无疑问，”所罗门说道，“这葡萄酒曾经经历了这一切。想一想那船板和桅杆弯曲变形，发出了吱吱嘎嘎的响声吧，想一想那大风穿过缆绳和索具发出的长啸和怒号吧！”
“想一想当船在疯狂似地左右摇晃、前后颠簸的时候，船员们却往桅杆高处攀登，相互竞争谁先爬到帆桁上去卷收结冰的船帆吧！”他的外甥喊道。
“一点不错，”所罗门说道，“装着这酒的旧桶经受了这一切。唉！当‘妩媚的萨利’号沉没在——”
“波罗的海①，在深更半夜的时候，12点25分钟，这时船长衣袋里的表停止走了；他躺在大桅杆附近旁死去了，那是在1749年2月24日！”沃尔特十分兴奋地喊道。
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①波罗的海（BaltieSea）：欧洲北部的内海。
“完全正确！那时候船上有五百桶这样的葡萄酒；当船开始往下沉没的时候，除了一位大副、一位海军上尉、两名船员和一位女士乘着一条漏水的小船离开了以外，船上所有其他的船员都去把酒桶敲破，喝得酩酊大醉，并在醉中死去，一边还唱着英国的爱国国歌，最后同声发出了可怕的一声尖叫。”
“但是舅勇，当‘乔治第二’号在1971年3月4日黎明前两小时在可怕的大风中向康沃尔①岸急驶的时候，船上有近二百匹马；在大风开始刮起来的时候，这些马在下面的底舱中挣脱了缰绳，来回狂奔，相互踩死；它们发出了十分嘈杂的声音，并发出了像人一样的叫声，船员们都以为船上充满了鬼怪，甚至那些最勇敢的人也六神无主，张惶失措，绝望地从船上跳入水中，最后只剩下两个人还活下来，向人们叙说这段经历。”
“而当，”老所尔说道，“当‘波利菲默斯’号——”
“这艘私人的西印度商船，载重量三百五十吨，船长是德普特福德人约翰•布朗。船主是威格斯公司，”沃尔特喊道。
“就是这艘船，”所尔说道，“当它乘着顺风，从牙买加②港开出四天以后，在夜间着火了……”
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①康沃尔（Cornwall）：英国西南部的半岛。
②牙买加（Jamaica）：位于加勒比海北部，邻近古巴和海地，是加勒比海的第三大岛。
“船上有两兄弟，”他的外甥打断他，说得很快，声音很大，“只有一条没有漏水的小船，但是装不下他们两人，兄弟两人谁也不同意到小船里去，后来哥哥抱着弟弟的腰，把他抛了进去。弟弟从小船中站起来喊道，‘亲爱的爱德华，想一想你在家中的未婚妻吧。我只是个孩子，家里没有人在等待我。跳到我这里来吧！’然后他自己就跳进海里去了！”
孩子对他们讲的事情真诚地感到激动，已经从坐位上站起来；他那闪闪发光的眼睛和发红的脸似乎在向老所尔提醒，他已经忘记了一些什么事情，或者提醒他，他四周的迷雾到现在已经消散了。虽然片刻之前他显然还打算讲一些奇闻轶事，但现在他已不再继续讲它们了。他短短地干咳了一声，说，“唔，我们换个话题吧。”
事实是，由于这位心地纯朴的舅舅本人暗中向往一切奇异和冒险的事迹——就他的职业来说，他和这类事迹也可说有几分远亲的关系——，他已经在他外甥的心中大大激起了同样向往的心情；一直来为诱导孩子不要从事冒险生涯所说的一切，通常总是激励了他对它的兴趣，这样的结果是无法解释的。情况总是这样，不会改变。为了劝告孩子们留在陆地上而写作的书本或讲述的故事，照例总是诱惑和吸引他们到海洋上去。似乎从来没有过相反的情形。
可是这时候来了一位先生，使这小小的聚会增加了一个人。他穿着一件宽阔的蓝外衣，在右腕下面有一个钩子，而不是一只手；他的眉毛又黑又浓，左手拿着一根粗大的手杖，手杖上有好多节，就像他鼻子上有好多疙瘩一样。他的脖子上宽松地系着一条黑色的绸围巾；衬衫领子很大，质地粗劣，看上去就像一面小船帆一样。显然，他就是那只空酒杯所等待的人。他也显然知道这一点；因为他脱去粗糙的外套，并把帽子挂在门后一个特别的木钉上以后，就把一张椅子移到那只空杯子旁边，面对着它坐下来。他的帽子是一顶上了光①的硬帽子，有怜悯心的人一看到它就会头疼；它在他的前额上留下了一道红圈，仿佛他一直戴着一个紧窄的盆子似的。他曾经是一位领港员，或一位小商船的船长，或一位私掠船船长，或这三种人都是。他那外貌确实像一位老海员。
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①指上了釉，擦亮了的。
他的脸是褐色的，结实的，十分引人注目；当他和舅甥两人握手的时候，他脸上露出了喜色；但他似乎生性是一位言辞简洁的人，只是说道：
“事情怎么样？”
“一切都好，”吉尔斯把酒瓶推到他那边，说道。
他拿起酒瓶，细细地看了一下，闻了一下，然后露出异乎寻常的表情，说道：
“是•它吗？”
“是•它，”仪器制造商回答道。
在这之后，他一边往杯子里倒酒，一边吹口哨，似乎在想，他们真正在欢庆节日呢。
“沃尔！”他用钩子梳理了一下稀疏的头发，然后指着仪器制造商，说道，“看着他！爱他！尊敬他！并服从他！翻一下你的《教义问答》，把这一段话找到①，找到的时候把书页折一下。祝你成功，我的孩子！”
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①“爱他！尊敬他！并服从他！”，这实际上是在婚礼仪式上说的话，并不是《教义问答》中的话。船长记错了。
他对这段语录和他的引用都十分满意，因此情不自禁地低声重复说着这段话，并说他在这四十年中已把它们忘记了。
“不过，吉尔斯，在我一生中还不曾发生过我不知道到哪里去找到我所需要的两、三个字的，”他说道，“因此，我不像有些人那样爱讲废话。”
这个意见也许提醒他，他最好像年轻的诺瓦尔①的父亲一样，“增加他的储存”，使他的知识更丰富一些。不管怎么样，他沉默下来，而且保持着沉默，直到老所尔离开餐桌到店铺里去点灯的时候，他才转向沃尔特，没有开场白，就说道：
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①诺瓦尔（Norval）：苏格兰戏剧家琼•霍姆（JoneHom，1722—1808年）所写悲剧《道格拉斯》（Douglas）中的主人翁；该悲剧的主题取自苏格兰的叙事诗。
“我想如果他试一试的话，他能做出一只钟。”
“我对这不会奇怪，卡特尔船长，”孩子回答道。
“这只钟还能走！”船长用钩子在空中划了一道像一种蛇一样的线条，“我的天主，那种怎么会走哪！”
在一两秒钟的时间内，他似乎完全出神地在思考着这只理想的钟走动的快慢，并坐在那里看着孩子，仿佛他的脸是针盘似的。
“可是他脑子里装满了科学，”他用钩子指着那些存货，说道，“往这里看一看吧！这里是这些东西的集合：泥土、空气或水。这里全都有了。只要说一下你准备到哪里去就行了。你想乘汽球到天上去吗？那你就到那里了！你想乘潜水艇到水底下去吗？那你就到那里了！你是不是想把北极星放到天平上去称一称？他会给你办到。”
从这些话中可以看出，卡特尔船长对这些仪器的存货怀着深深的敬意；也可以看出，他对买卖这些仪器与发明这些仪器之间的区别没有什么理解或完全不理解。
“啊！”他叹了一口气，说道，“懂得它们是一件好事，可是不懂得它们也是一件好事。我真不知道哪一件更好一些。坐在这里，觉得你可能被称，被计量，被放大，被通电，被给以极性，被伤害，但却不知道是怎样做到这些的，这是一件愉快的事情。”
除了这奇妙的马德拉葡萄酒加上这令人高兴的时刻（他需要利用这时刻来提高和发展沃尔特的智力）之外，没有什么能打开他的话匣子，使他发表出这番精彩的言论。他自己似乎也感到很惊奇，这马德拉酒用这样一种方式使他看到了这十年来每逢星期天他在这客厅里吃晚饭时所享有的默默的喜悦的源泉。然后他变得忧伤，也更为慎重，就沉思着，默默无言。
“听着！”他所钦佩的对象回来了，喊道，“在你喝掺水的烈酒之前，内德，我们必须把这一瓶喝光。”
“做好准备！①”内德把他的酒杯倒满，说道，“给这孩子再倒一些。”
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①做好准备（standby）：船长命令船员们准备抛锚或准备执行其他任务时的用语。卡特尔船长时常讲这句话。
“不要了，谢谢你，舅舅！”
“不，不，”所尔说道，“再喝一点儿。我们得把这一瓶喝光，为公司干杯，内德——为沃尔特的公司干杯。是呀，有朝一日这个公司也可能将部分地属于他的呢。谁知道呢？理查德•惠廷顿①爵士不是娶了他主人的女儿吗？”
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①这本小说中多次提到英国民间故事中的主人翁理查德•惠廷顿（RichardWhittington）。根据这个民间传说，500多年前，可怜的孤儿迪克（即理查德•惠廷顿）从农村到伦敦去碰运气，后来被善良的富商菲茨沃德收留，在他家中做工。迪克受不了厨娘的虐待，在一个万圣节的早上从家中逃出去。当他来到海盖特，在路边坐下来，不知该走哪条路的时候，突然在宁静的早晨的空气中传来了鲍教堂的钟声，仿佛对他说：“回去吧，惠廷顿，您是一个好公民。回去吧，惠廷顿，伦敦的市长！”钟声一遍又一遍地说着同样的话。于是他站起来转身顺原路回到主人家中，没有被人发现。北非有一个国家巴巴里耗子横行，国王由于从富商的商船中得到迪克送去出卖的小猫，制服了鼠害，就用贵重的宝石来换小猫，于是迪克发了大财。他和主人的女儿艾丽斯极为相爱，后来结了婚。此后不久，理查德•惠廷顿爵士三次出任伦敦市长。
“回去吧，惠廷顿，伦敦的市长，！当你老了的时候，你将永远也不会再离开它了，”船长打断他的话，说道，“沃尔，翻一翻书本，我的孩子。”
“只不过董贝先生没有女儿，”所尔开始说道。
“不，不，他有，舅舅，”孩子红着脸，大笑着说道。
“他有吗？”老人喊道。“不错，我想他也有女儿。”
“啊，我知道他有，”孩子说道。“公司里有些人今天还在办公室里谈起这些事。舅舅，卡特尔船长，”他压低了声音，“他们说他不喜欢她，不关心她，让她跟仆人住在一起；他的心思完全往一个地方想，就是要让他的儿子担任公司的合伙人；所以虽然他的儿子现在还只不过是个婴孩，可是他现在却要求公司的帐目比过去结得更勤一些，帐本比过去记得更细一些，甚至还有人看见他（他自以为没有被人看见）在码头上散步，一边望着他的商船和货物以及其他这一类东西，仿佛他看到他和他儿子将要共同占有这一切，于是就感到兴高采烈了。这是他们所说的。我当然什么也不知道。”
“你看，他已经了解了她的一切，”仪器制造商说道。
“胡说，舅舅，”孩子仍旧红着脸，大笑着，孩子气地喊道。“我怎么能不听到他们告诉我的话呢？”
“我担心，内德，这个儿子现在有些妨碍我们，”老人开玩笑地说道。
“非常妨碍，”船长说道。
“尽管这样，我们还是要为他祝酒，”所尔继续说道，“所以让我们来为董贝父子干杯！”
“啊，好极了，舅舅，”孩子开心地说道，“既然你们已经谈到了她，又把我跟她扯在一起，而且还说我已经了解了她的一切，那么我将不揣冒昧地把这祝酒词修改一下。让我们来为董贝父——子——女干杯！”
Chapter 5
 Paul's Progress and Christening
Little Paul, suffering no contamination from the blood of the Toodles, grew stouter and stronger every day. Every day, too, he was more and more ardently cherished by Miss Tox, whose devotion was so far appreciated by Mr Dombey that he began to regard her as a woman of great natural good sense, whose feelings did her credit and deserved encouragement. He was so lavish of this condescension, that he not only bowed to her, in a particular manner, on several occasions, but even entrusted such stately recognitions of her to his sister as 'pray tell your friend, Louisa, that she is very good,' or 'mention to Miss Tox, Louisa, that I am obliged to her;'specialities which made a deep impression on the lady thus distinguished.
Whether Miss Tox conceived that having been selected by the Fates to welcome the little Dombey before he was born, in Kirby, Beard and Kirby's Best Mixed Pins, it therefore naturally devolved upon her to greet him with all other forms of welcome in all other early stages of his existence - or whether her overflowing goodness induced her to volunteer into the domestic militia as a substitute in some sort for his deceased Mama - or whether she was conscious of any other motives - are questions which in this stage of the Firm's history herself only could have solved. Nor have they much bearing on the fact (of which there is no doubt), that Miss Tox's constancy and zeal were a heavy discouragement to Richards, who lost flesh hourly under her patronage, and was in some danger of being superintended to death.
Miss Tox was often in the habit of assuring Mrs Chick, that nothing could exceed her interest in all connected with the development of that sweet child;' and an observer of Miss Tox's proceedings might have inferred so much without declaratory confirmation. She would preside over the innocent repasts of the young heir, with ineffable satisfaction, almost with an air of joint proprietorship with Richards in the entertainment. At the little ceremonies of the bath and toilette, she assisted with enthusiasm. The administration of infantine doses of physic awakened all the active sympathy of her character; and being on one occasion secreted in a cupboard (whither she had fled in modesty), when Mr Dombey was introduced into the nursery by his sister, to behold his son, in the course of preparation for bed, taking a short walk uphill over Richards's gown, in a short and airy linen jacket, Miss Tox was so transported beyond the ignorant present as to be unable to refrain from crying out, 'Is he not beautiful Mr Dombey! Is he not a Cupid, Sir!' and then almost sinking behind the closet door with confusion and blushes.
'Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, one day, to his sister, 'I really think I must present your friend with some little token, on the occasion of Paul's christening. She has exerted herself so warmly in the child's behalf from the first, and seems to understand her position so thoroughly (a very rare merit in this world, I am sorry to say), that it would really be agreeable to me to notice her.'
Let it be no detraction from the merits of Miss Tox, to hint that in Mr Dombey's eyes, as in some others that occasionally see the light, they only achieved that mighty piece of knowledge, the understanding of their own position, who showed a fitting reverence for his. It was not so much their merit that they knew themselves, as that they knew him, and bowed low before him.
'My dear Paul,' returned his sister, 'you do Miss Tox but justice, as a man of your penetration was sure, I knew, to do. I believe if there are three words in the English language for which she has a respect amounting almost to veneration, those words are, Dombey and Son.'
'Well,' said Mr Dombey, 'I believe it. It does Miss Tox credit.'
'And as to anything in the shape of a token, my dear Paul,' pursued his sister, 'all I can say is that anything you give Miss Tox will be hoarded and prized, I am sure, like a relic. But there is a way, my dear Paul, of showing your sense of Miss Tox's friendliness in a still more flattering and acceptable manner, if you should be so inclined.'
'How is that?' asked Mr Dombey.
'Godfathers, of course,' continued Mrs Chick, 'are important in point of connexion and influence.'
'I don't know why they should be, to my son, said Mr Dombey, coldly.
'Very true, my dear Paul,' retorted Mrs Chick, with an extraordinary show of animation, to cover the suddenness of her conversion; 'and spoken like yourself. I might have expected nothing else from you. I might have known that such would have been your opinion. Perhaps;' here Mrs Chick faltered again, as not quite comfortably feeling her way; 'perhaps that is a reason why you might have the less objection to allowing Miss Tox to be godmother to the dear thing, if it were only as deputy and proxy for someone else. That it would be received as a great honour and distinction, Paul, I need not say.
'Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, after a short pause, 'it is not to be supposed - '
'Certainly not,' cried Mrs Chick, hastening to anticipate a refusal, 'I never thought it was.'
Mr Dombey looked at her impatiently.
'Don't flurry me, my dear Paul,' said his sister; 'for that destroys me. I am far from strong. I have not been quite myself, since poor dear Fanny departed.'
Mr Dombey glanced at the pocket-handkerchief which his sister applied to her eyes, and resumed:
'It is not be supposed, I say 'And I say,' murmured Mrs Chick, 'that I never thought it was.'
'Good Heaven, Louisa!' said Mr Dombey.
'No, my dear Paul,' she remonstrated with tearful dignity, 'I must really be allowed to speak. I am not so clever, or so reasoning, or so eloquent, or so anything, as you are. I know that very well. So much the worse for me. But if they were the last words I had to utter - and last words should be very solemn to you and me, Paul, after poor dear Fanny - I would still say I never thought it was. And what is more,' added Mrs Chick with increased dignity, as if she had withheld her crushing argument until now, 'I never did think it was.' Mr Dombey walked to the window and back again.
'It is not to be supposed, Louisa,' he said (Mrs Chick had nailed her colours to the mast, and repeated 'I know it isn't,' but he took no notice of it), 'but that there are many persons who, supposing that I recognised any claim at all in such a case, have a claim upon me superior to Miss Tox's. But I do not. I recognise no such thing. Paul and myself will be able, when the time comes, to hold our own - the House, in other words, will be able to hold its own, and maintain its own, and hand down its own of itself, and without any such common-place aids. The kind of foreign help which people usually seek for their children, I can afford to despise; being above it, I hope. So that Paul's infancy and childhood pass away well, and I see him becoming qualified without waste of time for the career on which he is destined to enter, I am satisfied. He will make what powerful friends he pleases in after-life, when he is actively maintaining - and extending, if that is possible - the dignity and credit of the Firm. Until then, I am enough for him, perhaps, and all in all. I have no wish that people should step in between us. I would much rather show my sense of the obliging conduct of a deserving person like your friend. Therefore let it be so; and your husband and myself will do well enough for the other sponsors, I daresay.'
In the course of these remarks, delivered with great majesty and grandeur, Mr Dombey had truly revealed the secret feelings of his breast. An indescribable distrust of anybody stepping in between himself and his son; a haughty dread of having any rival or partner in the boy's respect and deference; a sharp misgiving, recently acquired, that he was not infallible in his power of bending and binding human wills; as sharp a jealousy of any second check or cross; these were, at that time the master keys of his soul. In all his life, he had never made a friend. His cold and distant nature had neither sought one, nor found one. And now, when that nature concentrated its whole force so strongly on a partial scheme of parental interest and ambition, it seemed as if its icy current, instead of being released by this influence, and running clear and free, had thawed for but an instant to admit its burden, and then frozen with it into one unyielding block.
Elevated thus to the godmothership of little Paul, in virtue of her insignificance, Miss Tox was from that hour chosen and appointed to office; and Mr Dombey further signified his pleasure that the ceremony, already long delayed, should take place without further postponement. His sister, who had been far from anticipating so signal a success, withdrew as soon as she could, to communicate it to her best of friends; and Mr Dombey was left alone in his library. He had already laid his hand upon the bellrope to convey his usual summons to Richards, when his eye fell upon a writing-desk, belonging to his deceased wife, which had been taken, among other things, from a cabinet in her chamber. It was not the first time that his eye had lighted on it He carried the key in his pocket; and he brought it to his table and opened it now - having previously locked the room door - with a well-accustomed hand.
From beneath a leaf of torn and cancelled scraps of paper, he took one letter that remained entire. Involuntarily holding his breath as he opened this document, and 'bating in the stealthy action something of his arrogant demeanour, he s at down, resting his head upon one hand, and read it through.
He read it slowly and attentively, and with a nice particularity to every syllable. Otherwise than as his great deliberation seemed unnatural, and perhaps the result of an effort equally great, he allowed no sign of emotion to escape him. When he had read it through, he folded and refolded it slowly several times, and tore it carefully into fragments. Checking his hand in the act of throwing these away, he put them in his pocket, as if unwilling to trust them even to the chances of being re-united and deciphered; and instead of ringing, as usual, for little Paul, he sat solitary, all the evening, in his cheerless room.
There was anything but solitude in the nursery; for there, Mrs Chick and Miss Tox were enjoying a social evening, so much to the disgust of Miss Susan Nipper, that that young lady embraced every opportunity of making wry faces behind the door. Her feelings were so much excited on the occasion, that she found it indispensable to afford them this relief, even without having the comfort of any audience or sympathy whatever. As the knight-errants of old relieved their minds by carving their mistress's names in deserts, and wildernesses, and other savage places where there was no probability of there ever being anybody to read them, so did Miss Susan Nipper curl her snub nose into drawers and wardrobes, put away winks of disparagement in cupboards, shed derisive squints into stone pitchers, and contradict and call names out in the passage.
The two interlopers, however, blissfully unconscious of the young lady's sentiments, saw little Paul safe through all the stages of undressing, airy exercise, supper and bed; and then sat down to tea before the fire. The two children now lay, through the good offices of Polly, in one room; and it was not until the ladies were established at their tea-table that, happening to look towards the little beds, they thought of Florence.
'How sound she sleeps!' said Miss Tox.
'Why, you know, my dear, she takes a great deal of exercise in the course of the day,' returned Mrs Chick, 'playing about little Paul so much.'
'She is a curious child,' said Miss Tox.
'My dear,' retorted Mrs Chick, in a low voice: 'Her Mama, all over!'
'In deed!' said Miss Tox. 'Ah dear me!'
A tone of most extraordinary compassion Miss Tox said it in, though she had no distinct idea why, except that it was expected of her.
'Florence will never, never, never be a Dombey,'said Mrs Chick, 'not if she lives to be a thousand years old.'
Miss Tox elevated her eyebrows, and was again full of
commiseration.
'I quite fret and worry myself about her,' said Mrs Chick, with a sigh of modest merit. 'I really don't see what is to become of her when she grows older, or what position she is to take. She don't gain on her Papa in the least. How can one expect she should, when she is so very unlike a Dombey?'
Miss Tox looked as if she saw no way out of such a cogent argument as that, at all.
'And the child, you see,' said Mrs Chick, in deep confidence, 'has poor dear Fanny's nature. She'll never make an effort in after-life, I'll venture to say. Never! She'll never wind and twine herself about her Papa's heart like - '
'Like the ivy?' suggested Miss Tox.
'Like the ivy,' Mrs Chick assented. 'Never! She'll never glide and nestle into the bosom of her Papa's affections like - the - '
'Startled fawn?' suggested Miss Tox.
'Like the startled fawn,' said Mrs Chick. 'Never! Poor Fanny! Yet, how I loved her!'
'You must not distress yourself, my dear,' said Miss Tox, in a soothing voice. 'Now really! You have too much feeling.'
'We have all our faults,' said Mrs Chick, weeping and shaking her head. 'I daresay we have. I never was blind to hers. I never said I was. Far from it. Yet how I loved her!'
What a satisfaction it was to Mrs Chick - a common-place piece of folly enough, compared with whom her sister-in-law had been a very angel of womanly intelligence and gentleness - to patronise and be tender to the memory of that lady: in exact pursuance of her conduct to her in her lifetime: and to thoroughly believe herself, and take herself in, and make herself uncommonly comfortable on the strength of her toleration! What a mighty pleasant virtue toleration should be when we are right, to be so very pleasant when we are wrong, and quite unable to demonstrate how we come to be invested with the privilege of exercising it!
Mrs Chick was yet drying her eyes and shaking her head, when Richards made bold to caution her that Miss Florence was awake and sitting in her bed. She had risen, as the nurse said, and the lashes of her eyes were wet with tears. But no one saw them glistening save Polly. No one else leant over her, and whispered soothing words to her, or was near enough to hear the flutter of her beating heart.
'Oh! dear nurse!' said the child, looking earnestly up in her face, 'let me lie by my brother!'
'Why, my pet?' said Richards.
'Oh! I think he loves me,' cried the child wildly. 'Let me lie by him. Pray do!'
Mrs Chick interposed with some motherly words about going to sleep like a dear, but Florence repeated her supplication, with a frightened look, and in a voice broken by sobs and tears.
'I'll not wake him,' she said, covering her face and hanging down her head. 'I'll only touch him with my hand, and go to sleep. Oh, pray, pray, let me lie by my brother to-night, for I believe he's fond of me!'
Richards took her without a word, and carrying her to the little bed in which the infant was sleeping, laid her down by his side. She crept as near him as she could without disturbing his rest; and stretching out one arm so that it timidly embraced his neck, and hiding her face on the other, over which her damp and scattered hair fell loose, lay motionless.
'Poor little thing,' said Miss Tox; 'she has been dreaming, I daresay.'
Dreaming, perhaps, of loving tones for ever silent, of loving eyes for ever closed, of loving arms again wound round her, and relaxing in that dream within the dam which no tongue can relate. Seeking, perhaps - in dreams - some natural comfort for a heart, deeply and sorely wounded, though so young a child's: and finding it, perhaps, in dreams, if not in waking, cold, substantial truth. This trivial incident had so interrupted the current of conversation, that it was difficult of resumption; and Mrs Chick moreover had been so affected by the contemplation of her own tolerant nature, that she was not in spirits. The two friends accordingly soon made an end of their tea, and a servant was despatched to fetch a hackney cabriolet for Miss Tox. Miss Tox had great experience in hackney cabs, and her starting in one was generally a work of time, as she was systematic in the preparatory arrangements.
'Have the goodness, if you please, Towlinson,' said Miss Tox, 'first of all, to carry out a pen and ink and take his number legibly.'
'Yes, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'Then, if you please, Towlinson,'said Miss Tox, 'have the goodness
to turn the cushion. Which,' said Miss Tox apart to Mrs Chick, 'is generally damp, my dear.'
'Yes, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'I'll trouble you also, if you please, Towlinson,' said Miss Tox, 'with this card and this shilling. He's to drive to the card, and is to understand that he will not on any account have more than the shilling.'
'No, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'And - I'm sorry to give you so much trouble, Towlinson,' said Miss Tox, looking at him pensively.
'Not at all, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'Mention to the man, then, if you please, Towlinson,' said Miss Tox, 'that the lady's uncle is a magistrate, and that if he gives her any of his impertinence he will be punished terribly. You can pretend to say that, if you please, Towlinson, in a friendly way, and because you know it was done to another man, who died.'
'Certainly, Miss,' said Towlinson.
'And now good-night to my sweet, sweet, sweet, godson,' said Miss Tox, with a soft shower of kisses at each repetition of the adjective; 'and Louisa, my dear friend, promise me to take a little something warm before you go to bed, and not to distress yourself!'
It was with extreme difficulty that Nipper, the black-eyed, who looked on steadfastly, contained herself at this crisis, and until the subsequent departure of Mrs Chick. But the nursery being at length free of visitors, she made herself some recompense for her late restraint.
'You might keep me in a strait-waistcoat for six weeks,' said Nipper, 'and when I got it off I'd only be more aggravated, who ever heard the like of them two Griffins, Mrs Richards?'
'And then to talk of having been dreaming, poor dear!' said Polly.
'Oh you beauties!' cried Susan Nipper, affecting to salute the door by which the ladies had departed. 'Never be a Dombey won't she? It's to be hoped she won't, we don't want any more such, one's enough.'
'Don't wake the children, Susan dear,' said Polly.
'I'm very much beholden to you, Mrs Richards,' said Susan, who was not by any means discriminating in her wrath, 'and really feel it as a honour to receive your commands, being a black slave and a mulotter. Mrs Richards, if there's any other orders, you can give me, pray mention 'em.'
'Nonsense; orders,' said Polly.
'Oh! bless your heart, Mrs Richards,' cried Susan, 'temporaries always orders permanencies here, didn't you know that, why wherever was you born, Mrs Richards? But wherever you was born, Mrs Richards,' pursued Spitfire, shaking her head resolutely, 'and whenever, and however (which is best known to yourself), you may bear in mind, please, that it's one thing to give orders, and quite another thing to take 'em. A person may tell a person to dive off a bridge head foremost into five-and-forty feet of water, Mrs Richards, but a person may be very far from diving.'
'There now,' said Polly, 'you're angry because you're a good little thing, and fond of Miss Florence; and yet you turn round on me, because there's nobody else.'
'It's very easy for some to keep their tempers, and be soft-spoken, Mrs Richards,' returned Susan, slightly mollified, 'when their child's made as much of as a prince, and is petted and patted till it wishes its friends further, but when a sweet young pretty innocent, that never ought to have a cross word spoken to or of it, is rundown, the case is very different indeed. My goodness gracious me, Miss Floy, you naughty, sinful child, if you don't shut your eyes this minute, I'll call in them hobgoblins that lives in the cock-loft to come and eat you up alive!'
Here Miss Nipper made a horrible lowing, supposed to issue from a conscientious goblin of the bull species, impatient to discharge the severe duty of his position. Having further composed her young charge by covering her head with the bedclothes, and making three or four angry dabs at the pillow, she folded her arms, and screwed up her mouth, and sat looking at the fire for the rest of the evening.
Though little Paul was said, in nursery phrase, 'to take a deal of notice for his age,' he took as little notice of all this as of the preparations for his christening on the next day but one; which nevertheless went on about him, as to his personal apparel, and that of his sister and the two nurses, with great activity. Neither did he, on the arrival of the appointed morning, show any sense of its importance; being, on the contrary, unusually inclined to sleep, and unusually inclined to take it ill in his attendants that they dressed him to go out.
It happened to be an iron-grey autumnal day, with a shrewd east wind blowing - a day in keeping with the proceedings. Mr Dombey represented in himself the wind, the shade, and the autumn of the christening. He stood in his library to receive the company, as hard and cold as the weather; and when he looked out through the glass room, at the trees in the little garden, their brown and yellow leaves came fluttering down, as if he blighted them.
Ugh! They were black, cold rooms; and seemed to be in mourning, like the inmates of the house. The books precisely matched as to size, and drawn up in line, like soldiers, looked in their cold, hard, slippery uniforms, as if they had but one idea among them, and that was a freezer. The bookcase, glazed and locked, repudiated all familiarities. Mr Pitt, in bronze, on the top, with no trace of his celestial origin' about him, guarded the unattainable treasure like an enchanted Moor. A dusty urn at each high corner, dug up from an ancient tomb, preached desolation and decay, as from two pulpits; and the chimney-glass, reflecting Mr Dombey and his portrait at one blow, seemed fraught with melancholy meditations.
The stiff and stark fire-irons appeared to claim a nearer relationship than anything else there to Mr Dombey, with his buttoned coat, his white cravat, his heavy gold watch-chain, and his creaking boots.
But this was before the arrival of Mr and Mrs Chick, his lawful relatives, who soon presented themselves.
'My dear Paul,' Mrs Chick murmured, as she embraced him, 'the beginning, I hope, of many joyful days!'
'Thank you, Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, grimly. 'How do you do, Mr John?'
'How do you do, Sir?' said Chick.
He gave Mr Dombey his hand, as if he feared it might electrify him. Mr Dombey tool: it as if it were a fish, or seaweed, or some such clammy substance, and immediately returned it to him with exalted politeness.
'Perhaps, Louisa,' said Mr Dombey, slightly turning his head in his cravat, as if it were a socket, 'you would have preferred a fire?'
'Oh, my dear Paul, no,' said Mrs Chick, who had much ado to keep her teeth from chattering; 'not for me.'
'Mr John,' said Mr Dombey, 'you are not sensible of any chill?'
Mr John, who had already got both his hands in his pockets over the wrists, and was on the very threshold of that same canine chorus which had given Mrs Chick so much offence on a former occasion, protested that he was perfectly comfortable.
He added in a low voice, 'With my tiddle tol toor rul' - when he was providentially stopped by Towlinson, who announced:
'Miss Tox!'
And enter that fair enslaver, with a blue nose and indescribably frosty face, referable to her being very thinly clad in a maze of fluttering odds and ends, to do honour to the ceremony.
'How do you do, Miss Tox?' said Mr Dombey.
Miss Tox, in the midst of her spreading gauzes, went down altogether like an opera-glass shutting-up; she curtseyed so low, in acknowledgment of Mr Dombey's advancing a step or two to meet her.
'I can never forget this occasion, Sir,' said Miss Tox, softly. ''Tis impossible. My dear Louisa, I can hardly believe the evidence of my senses.'
If Miss Tox could believe the evidence of one of her senses, it was a very cold day. That was quite clear. She took an early opportunity of promoting the circulation in the tip of her nose by secretly chafing it with her pocket handkerchief, lest, by its very low temperature, it should disagreeably astonish the baby when she came to kiss it.
The baby soon appeared, carried in great glory by Richards; while Florence, in custody of that active young constable, Susan Nipper, brought up the rear. Though the whole nursery party were dressed by this time in lighter mourning than at first, there was enough in the appearance of the bereaved children to make the day no brighter. The baby too - it might have been Miss Tox's nose - began to cry. Thereby, as it happened, preventing Mr Chick from the awkward fulfilment of a very honest purpose he had; which was, to make much of Florence. For this gentleman, insensible to the superior claims of a perfect Dombey (perhaps on account of having the honour to be united to a Dombey himself, and being familiar with excellence), really liked her, and showed that he liked her, and was about to show it in his own way now, when Paul cried, and his helpmate stopped him short
'Now Florence, child!' said her aunt, briskly, 'what are you doing, love? Show yourself to him. Engage his attention, my dear!'
The atmosphere became or might have become colder and colder, when Mr Dombey stood frigidly watching his little daughter, who, clapping her hands, and standing On tip-toe before the throne of his son and heir, lured him to bend down from his high estate, and look at her. Some honest act of Richards's may have aided the effect, but he did look down, and held his peace. As his sister hid behind her nurse, he followed her with his eyes; and when she peeped out with a merry cry to him, he sprang up and crowed lustily - laughing outright when she ran in upon him; and seeming to fondle her curls with his tiny hands, while she smothered him with kisses.
Was Mr Dombey pleased to see this? He testified no pleasure by the relaxation of a nerve; but outward tokens of any kind of feeling were unusual with him. If any sunbeam stole into the room to light the children at their play, it never reached his face. He looked on so fixedly and coldly, that the warm light vanished even from the laughing eyes of little Florence, when, at last, they happened to meet his.
It was a dull, grey, autumn day indeed, and in a minute's pause and silence that took place, the leaves fell sorrowfully.
'Mr John,' said Mr Dombey, referring to his watch, and assuming his hat and gloves. 'Take my sister, if you please: my arm today is Miss Tox's. You had better go first with Master Paul, Richards. Be very careful.'
In Mr Dombey's carriage, Dombey and Son, Miss Tox, Mrs Chick, Richards, and Florence. In a little carriage following it, Susan Nipper and the owner Mr Chick. Susan looking out of window, without intermission, as a relief from the embarrassment of confronting the large face of that gentleman, and thinking whenever anything rattled that he was putting up in paper an appropriate pecuniary compliment for herself.
Once upon the road to church, Mr Dombey clapped his hands for the amusement of his son. At which instance of parental enthusiasm Miss Tox was enchanted. But exclusive of this incident, the chief difference between the christening party and a party in a mourning coach consisted in the colours of the carriage and horses.
Arrived at the church steps, they were received by a portentous beadle.' Mr Dombey dismounting first to help the ladies out, and standing near him at the church door, looked like another beadle. A beadle less gorgeous but more dreadful; the beadle of private life; the beadle of our business and our bosoms.
Miss Tox's hand trembled as she slipped it through Mr Dombey's arm, and felt herself escorted up the steps, preceded by a cocked hat and a Babylonian collar. It seemed for a moment like that other solemn institution, 'Wilt thou have this man, Lucretia?' 'Yes, I will.'
'Please to bring the child in quick out of the air there,' whispered the beadle, holding open the inner door of the church.
Little Paul might have asked with Hamlet 'into my grave?' so chill and earthy was the place. The tall shrouded pulpit and reading desk; the dreary perspective of empty pews stretching away under the galleries, and empty benches mounting to the roof and lost in the shadow of the great grim organ; the dusty matting and cold stone slabs; the grisly free seats' in the aisles; and the damp corner by the bell-rope, where the black trestles used for funerals were stowed away, along with some shovels and baskets, and a coil or two of deadly-looking rope; the strange, unusual, uncomfortable smell, and the cadaverous light; were all in unison. It was a cold and dismal scene.
'There's a wedding just on, Sir,' said the beadle, 'but it'll be over directly, if you'll walk into the westry here.
Before he turned again to lead the way, he gave Mr Dombey a bow and a half smile of recognition, importing that he (the beadle) remembered to have had the pleasure of attending on him when he buried his wife, and hoped he had enjoyed himself since.
The very wedding looked dismal as they passed in front of the altar. The bride was too old and the bridegroom too young, and a superannuated beau with one eye and an eyeglass stuck in its blank companion, was giving away the lady, while the friends were shivering. In the vestry the fire was smoking; and an over-aged and over-worked and under-paid attorney's clerk, 'making a search,' was running his forefinger down the parchment pages of an immense register (one of a long series of similar volumes) gorged with burials. Over the fireplace was a ground-plan of the vaults underneath the church; and Mr Chick, skimming the literary portion of it aloud, by way of enlivening the company, read the reference to Mrs Dombey's tomb in full, before he could stop himself.
After another cold interval, a wheezy little pew-opener afflicted with an asthma, appropriate to the churchyard, if not to the church, summoned them to the font - a rigid marble basin which seemed to have been playing a churchyard game at cup and ball with its matter of fact pedestal, and to have been just that moment caught on the top of it. Here they waited some little time while the marriage party enrolled themselves; and meanwhile the wheezy little pew-opener - partly in consequence of her infirmity, and partly that the marriage party might not forget her - went about the building coughing like a grampus.
Presently the clerk (the only cheerful-looking object there, and he was an undertaker) came up with a jug of warm water, and said something, as he poured it into the font, about taking the chill off; which millions of gallons boiling hot could not have done for the occasion. Then the clergyman, an amiable and mild-looking young curate, but obviously afraid of the baby, appeared like the principal character in a ghost-story, 'a tall figure all in white;' at sight of whom Paul rent the air with his cries, and never left off again till he was taken out black in the face.
Even when that event had happened, to the great relief of everybody, he was heard under the portico, during the rest of the ceremony, now fainter, now louder, now hushed, now bursting forth again with an irrepressible sense of his wrongs. This so distracted the attention of the two ladies, that Mrs Chick was constantly deploying into the centre aisle, to send out messages by the pew-opener, while Miss Tox kept her Prayer-book open at the Gunpowder Plot, and occasionally read responses from that service.
During the whole of these proceedings, Mr Dombey remained as impassive and gentlemanly as ever, and perhaps assisted in making it so cold, that the young curate smoked at the mouth as he read. The only time that he unbent his visage in the least, was when the clergyman, in delivering (very unaffectedly and simply) the closing exhortation, relative to the future examination of the child by the sponsors, happened to rest his eye on Mr Chick; and then Mr Dombey might have been seen to express by a majestic look, that he would like to catch him at it.
It might have been well for Mr Dombey, if he had thought of his own dignity a little less; and had thought of the great origin and purpose of the ceremony in which he took so formal and so stiff a part, a little more. His arrogance contrasted strangely with its history.
When it was all over, he again gave his arm to Miss Tox, and conducted her to the vestry, where he informed the clergyman how much pleasure it would have given him to have solicited the honour of his company at dinner, but for the unfortunate state of his household affairs. The register signed, and the fees paid, and the pew-opener (whose cough was very bad again) remembered, and the beadle gratified, and the sexton (who was accidentally on the doorsteps, looking with great interest at the weather) not forgotten, they got into the carriage again, and drove home in the same bleak fellowship.
There they found Mr Pitt turning up his nose at a cold collation, set forth in a cold pomp of glass and silver, and looking more like a dead dinner lying in state than a social refreshment. On their arrival Miss Tox produced a mug for her godson, and Mr Chick a knife and fork and spoon in a case. Mr Dombey also produced a bracelet for Miss Tox; and, on the receipt of this token, Miss Tox was tenderly affected.
'Mr John,' said Mr Dombey, 'will you take the bottom of the table, if you please? What have you got there, Mr John?'
'I have got a cold fillet of veal here, Sir,' replied Mr Chick, rubbing his numbed hands hard together. 'What have you got there, Sir?'
'This,' returned Mr Dombey, 'is some cold preparation of calf's head, I think. I see cold fowls - ham - patties - salad - lobster. Miss Tox will do me the honour of taking some wine? Champagne to Miss Tox.'
There was a toothache in everything. The wine was so bitter cold that it forced a little scream from Miss Tox, which she had great difficulty in turning into a 'Hem!' The veal had come from such an airy pantry, that the first taste of it had struck a sensation as of cold lead to Mr Chick's extremities. Mr Dombey alone remained unmoved. He might have been hung up for sale at a Russian fair as a specimen of a frozen gentleman.
The prevailing influence was too much even for his sister. She made no effort at flattery or small talk, and directed all her efforts to looking as warm as she could.
'Well, Sir,' said Mr Chick, making a desperate plunge, after a long silence, and filling a glass of sherry; 'I shall drink this, if you'll allow me, Sir, to little Paul.'
'Bless him!' murmured Miss Tox, taking a sip of wine.
'Dear little Dombey!' murmured Mrs Chick.
'Mr John,' said Mr Dombey, with severe gravity, 'my son would feel and express himself obliged to you, I have no doubt, if he could appreciate the favour you have done him. He will prove, in time to come, I trust, equal to any responsibility that the obliging disposition of his relations and friends, in private, or the onerous nature of our position, in public, may impose upon him.'
The tone in which this was said admitting of nothing more, Mr Chick relapsed into low spirits and silence. Not so Miss Tox, who, having listened to Mr Dombey with even a more emphatic attention than usual, and with a more expressive tendency of her head to one side, now leant across the table, and said to Mrs Chick softly:
'Louisa!'
'My dear,' said Mrs Chick.
'Onerous nature of our position in public may - I have forgotten
the exact term.'
'Expose him to,' said Mrs Chick.
'Pardon me, my dear,' returned Miss Tox, 'I think not. It was more rounded and flowing. Obliging disposition of relations and friends in private, or onerous nature of position in public - may - impose upon him!'
'Impose upon him, to be sure,' said Mrs Chick.
Miss Tox struck her delicate hands together lightly, in triumph; and added, casting up her eyes, 'eloquence indeed!'
Mr Dombey, in the meanwhile, had issued orders for the attendance of Richards, who now entered curtseying, but without the baby; Paul being asleep after the fatigues of the morning. Mr Dombey, having delivered a glass of wine to this vassal, addressed her in the following words: Miss Tox previously settling her head on one side, and making other little arrangements for engraving them on her heart.
'During the six months or so, Richards, which have seen you an inmate of this house, you have done your duty. Desiring to connect some little service to you with this occasion, I considered how I could best effect that object, and I also advised with my sister, Mrs - '
'Chick,' interposed the gentleman of that name.
'Oh, hush if you please!' said Miss Tox.
'I was about to say to you, Richards,' resumed Mr Dombey, with an appalling glance at Mr John, 'that I was further assisted in my decision, by the recollection of a conversation I held with your husband in this room, on the occasion of your being hired, when he disclosed to me the melancholy fact that your family, himself at the head, were sunk and steeped in ignorance.
Richards quailed under the magnificence of the reproof.
'I am far from being friendly,' pursued Mr Dombey, 'to what is called by persons of levelling sentiments, general education. But it is necessary that the inferior classes should continue to be taught to know their position, and to conduct themselves properly. So far I approve of schools. Having the power of nominating a child on the foundation of an ancient establishment, called (from a worshipful company) the Charitable Grinders; where not only is a wholesome education bestowed upon the scholars, but where a dress and badge is likewise provided for them; I have (first communicating, through Mrs Chick, with your family) nominated your eldest son to an existing vacancy; and he has this day, I am informed, assumed the habit. The number of her son, I believe,' said Mr Dombey, turning to his sister and speaking of the child as if he were a hackney-coach, is one hundred and forty-seven. Louisa, you can tell her.'
'One hundred and forty-seven,' said Mrs Chick 'The dress, Richards, is a nice, warm, blue baize tailed coat and cap, turned up with orange coloured binding; red worsted stockings; and very strong leather small-clothes. One might wear the articles one's self,' said Mrs Chick, with enthusiasm, 'and be grateful.'
'There, Richards!' said Miss Tox. 'Now, indeed, you may be proud. The Charitable Grinders!'
'I am sure I am very much obliged, Sir,' returned Richards faintly, 'and take it very kind that you should remember my little ones.' At the same time a vision of Biler as a Charitable Grinder, with his very small legs encased in the serviceable clothing described by Mrs Chick, swam before Richards's eyes, and made them water.
'I am very glad to see you have so much feeling, Richards,' said Miss Tox.
'It makes one almost hope, it really does,' said Mrs Chick, who prided herself on taking trustful views of human nature, 'that there may yet be some faint spark of gratitude and right feeling in the world.'
Richards deferred to these compliments by curtseying and murmuring
her thanks; but finding it quite impossible to recover her spirits from the disorder into which they had been thrown by the image of her son in his precocious nether garments, she gradually approached the door and was heartily relieved to escape by it.
Such temporary indications of a partial thaw that had appeared with her, vanished with her; and the frost set in again, as cold and hard as ever. Mr Chick was twice heard to hum a tune at the bottom of the table, but on both occasions it was a fragment of the Dead March in Saul. The party seemed to get colder and colder, and to be gradually resolving itself into a congealed and solid state, like the collation round which it was assembled. At length Mrs Chick looked at Miss Tox, and Miss Tox returned the look, and they both rose and said it was really time to go. Mr Dombey receiving this announcement with perfect equanimity, they took leave of that gentleman, and presently departed under the protection of Mr Chick; who, when they had turned their backs upon the house and left its master in his usual solitary state, put his hands in his pockets, threw himself back in the carriage, and whistled 'With a hey ho chevy!' all through; conveying into his face as he did so, an expression of such gloomy and terrible defiance, that Mrs Chick dared not protest, or in any way molest him.
Richards, though she had little Paul on her lap, could not forget her own first-born. She felt it was ungrateful; but the influence of the day fell even on the Charitable Grinders, and she could hardly help regarding his pewter badge, number one hundred and forty-seven, as, somehow, a part of its formality and sternness. She spoke, too, in the nursery, of his 'blessed legs,' and was again troubled by his spectre in uniform.
'I don't know what I wouldn't give,' said Polly, 'to see the poor little dear before he gets used to 'em.'
'Why, then, I tell you what, Mrs Richards,' retorted Nipper, who had been admitted to her confidence, 'see him and make your mind easy.'
'Mr Dombey wouldn't like it,' said Polly.
'Oh, wouldn't he, Mrs Richards!' retorted Nipper, 'he'd like it very much, I think when he was asked.'
'You wouldn't ask him, I suppose, at all?' said Polly.
'No, Mrs Richards, quite contrairy,' returned Susan, 'and them two inspectors Tox and Chick, not intending to be on duty tomorrow, as I heard 'em say, me and Mid Floy will go along with you tomorrow morning, and welcome, Mrs Richards, if you like, for we may as well walk there as up and down a street, and better too.'
Polly rejected the idea pretty stoutly at first; but by little and little she began to entertain it, as she entertained more and more distinctly the forbidden pictures of her children, and her own home. At length, arguing that there could be no great harm in calling for a moment at the door, she yielded to the Nipper proposition.
The matter being settled thus, little Paul began to cry most piteously, as if he had a foreboding that no good would come of it.
'What's the matter with the child?' asked Susan.
'He's cold, I think,' said Polly, walking with him to and fro, and hushing him.
It was a bleak autumnal afternoon indeed; and as she walked, and hushed, and, glancing through the dreary windows, pressed the little fellow closer to her breast, the withered leaves came showering down.
 
小保罗从图德尔的血液中没有受到污染，每天长得愈来愈结实，愈来愈强壮。托克斯小姐每天也愈来愈热心地爱护他；董贝先生对她的忠诚十分赞赏，开始把她看作是一位天性善良、十分明白事理的女人；她的感情为她增光，应当得到鼓励。他不惜纡尊降贵，向她充分表示好感。不仅好几次特别有礼地向她鞠躬，甚至还通过她的妹妹郑重地转达他对她的谢意。“请告诉你的朋友，路易莎，她很好，”或者“请跟托克斯小姐说，路易莎，我谢谢她。”他对这位女士这样刮目相看，这给她留下了深刻的印象。
托克斯小姐时常让奇克夫人放心，对她说，跟那位可爱的婴孩的发育成长有关的一切事情，是她最感兴趣的，没有什么能超过它的了。她这样讲，已经成了一种习惯。观察托克斯小姐活动的人不需要取得确凿肯定的证词就可以得出同样的结论。她会怀着难以形容的满意心情主持这位年轻继承人的天真的用餐，那副神态就几乎像在这个款待中她跟理查兹共同享有所有权似的。在洗澡与穿着打扮这些小小的活动中，她热情地进行帮助。给孩子服用药物，唤起了她生性具有的强烈的同情心。有一次董贝先生被他的妹妹领到育儿室里来看他的儿子；托克斯小姐由于谦虚，急忙跑到一个碗柜里去躲避；这时候孩子正准备睡觉，穿着一件轻薄的亚麻短上衣，沿着理查兹的长外衣向上短时间地爬了一会儿；托克斯小姐在毫无所知的客人背后欣喜若狂，忍不住喊道，“他不是很漂亮吗，董贝先生，他不就是个丘比德①吗，先生？”然后神情慌乱，满脸通红，在柜子的门后几乎都要倒下去了。
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①丘比德（Cupid）：罗马神话中的爱神，他的形象是一个背生双翼、手持弓箭的美童；因此，美丽的儿童或美少年常被称为丘比德。
“路易莎，”董贝先生有一次对他的妹妹说道，“我确实觉得应该在给保罗施洗礼的时候，给你的朋友送一点儿小小的纪念品。她从一开始就那么热心地为孩子操心出力，而且似乎完全明白自己的身份（我很遗憾地说，在这个世界上这是难能可贵的一种美德），我真愿意向她表示一点谢意。”
我们在这里并不是想要贬损托克斯小姐的美德，但需要提一下，在董贝先生的眼中——就像在那些有时能体察事理的其他人的眼中一样——，只有对他的地位表示适当尊敬的人，才能称得上具有明白自己身份的那份非凡的理解力。他们了解自己的美德并不比他们了解他在他面前卑躬屈节的美德更为重要。
“我亲爱的保罗，”他的妹妹回答道，“你对待托克斯小姐完全公道；我知道，像你这样洞察一切的人一定会这样做。我相信，在我国的语言中，如有四个字她尊敬得几乎达到了崇拜的地步的话，那么这四个字就是董贝父子。”
“唔，”董贝先生说道，“我相信这一点。这会给托克斯小姐增光。”
“至于说到纪念品，我亲爱的保罗，”他的妹妹继续说道，“我只想说一句话，就是，你给托克斯小姐不论什么东西，我相信她都会把它当作圣物一样珍视和收藏起来的。不过，亲爱的保罗，如果你愿意的话，那么你还可以用一种更使她高兴、更使她满意的方式来表示你对托克斯小姐的友好情谊的谢意。”
“什么方式？”董贝先生问道。
“就关系与影响来说，”奇克夫人继续说道，“选择教父自然是重要的。”
“我不知道为什么他们对我的儿子是重要的，”董贝先生冷若冰霜地说道。
“完全正确，我亲爱的保罗，”奇克夫人回答道；为了掩盖她突然改变主意，她就显示出异乎寻常的活泼；“这正是你应该说的。我原来就料想你不会说别的。我原先就知道这就是你的意见。”奇克夫人这时又奉承起来，一边没有很大把握地摸索着前进；“也许正因为这样，如果让托克斯小姐仅仅作为其他什么人的代表和替身，来充当可爱的孩子的教母，那么你可能是不会反对的。不用说，保罗，她将会把这看作是极为体面、极为光荣的事情来接受的。”
“路易莎，”董贝先生沉默了一会儿，说道，“不应该认为——”
“当然不应该，”奇克夫人急忙防止会遭到拒绝，“我从来不曾认为那是应该的。”
董贝先生不耐烦地看着她。
“别把我的心搅乱了，我亲爱的保罗，”他的妹妹说道，“因为这会毁了我。我的身体很不好。自从可怜的亲爱的范妮离开我们以后，我就一直觉得不舒服。”
董贝先生向他妹妹掏出来擦眼泪的手绢看了一眼，继续说道：
“我说，不应该认为。”
“我说，”奇克夫人嘟哝着说道，“我从来不曾想过那是应该的。”
“我的天，路易莎！”董贝先生说道。
“不，我亲爱的保罗，”她眼泪汪汪、尊严地抗辩道，“你确实应当允许我说话。我不像你那么聪明，那么能推理，那么能言善辩，等等。这一点我很明白。对我来说，这就更糟。可是如果我必须说最后几句话的话——保罗，在可怜的亲爱的范妮逝世以后，这最后几句话对你和我都必须是很庄严的——，我仍然要说，我从来不曾认为那是应该的。而且，”奇克夫人以愈益尊严的语气补充说道，仿佛她直到现在才把她最能把别人驳得一败涂地、无言以对的论据拿出来似的。“我•确•实从来不曾想过那是应该的。”
董贝先生走到窗子前面，又走回来。
“不应该认为，路易莎，”他说道（奇克夫人坚持到底，决不服，不断重复说道，“我知道不应该”，但是他没有理会），“没有好多人以为，谁担任了教父教母，我就会承认他（她）对我有什么权利，因此他们就会比托克斯小姐对我提出更多的权利。可是我不承认这种权利。我不承认任何这类事情。当时间到来的时候，保罗和我本人将有能力保持我们自己的财产；换句话说，公司将有能力保持它自己的财产，维护它自己的财产，把它的财产传给后代，并不需要任何这类平凡无奇的帮助。人们通常为他们的子女寻求那一类不相干的帮助，我却能够蔑视它；因为我希望我超越它。因此当保罗顺利地度过他的婴儿时代与孩童时代，当我看到他没有虚度光阴，将能胜任•他预定要担当的事业的时候，我就将称心满意了。他在以后的生涯中，当他积极地维护着公司的尊严与荣誉，并且，如果可能的话，加以扩展的时候，他将会结交他愿意结交的有权有势的朋友。在那时候来到之前，对他来说，也许有我就已经足够了，而且我就是他的一切。总而言之，我不希望有什么人介入我们之间。我宁愿向一位像你的朋友那样值得感谢的人表示我对她的劳务的谢意。因此，就让这件事这样办吧，我想，你的丈夫与我本人来充当教父，我们将会当得很好。”
在这极为庄严、极为郑重的谈话过程中，董贝先生真实地透露了他心中秘密的感情。他对介入他与他儿子之间的任何人都怀着难以形容的不信任。他傲慢地害怕有任何一个人与他争夺或与他分享孩子的尊敬与服从；他最近产生出一种深深的忧虑，就是他在改变和约束人们的意志方面并没有无限的能力；他同样强烈猜疑的是，他会遭遇到新的挫折与不幸；这些就是在这段时间中支配他心灵的主要思想感情。在他的这一生中，他从没有结交过一位朋友。他那对人冷淡、与人疏远的性格既没有寻求过一位朋友，也没有找到过一位朋友。现在，当这性格把它的全部力量有力地集中在体现父亲的关怀与野心的一部分计划上的时候，看来它那冰流仿佛并没有在这种影响下完全解冻，清澈地、自由地奔流，而只是融化了一会儿，以便容纳它的重荷，然后连它一起冻结成一个坚硬的大冰块。
托克斯小姐凭着她低微的身份被这样提升为小保罗的教母，从这个时候起就被选定并任命就职；董贝先生还进一步表示了他的愿望：这个拖延已久的仪式应该很快举行，不再推迟。他的妹妹原先没有指望能取得这样辉煌的成功，于是赶快离开，把这个消息告诉给她最好的朋友；董贝先生则独自留在他的图书室中。
育儿室里一点也不寂寞，因为奇克夫人与托克斯小姐正在那里亲密愉快地一起度过那个晚上；她们使苏珊•尼珀姑娘感到极为讨厌，因此这姑娘一有机会就在门后撇嘴做怪脸。在这个场合下她的感情是十分激动的，所以她觉得有必要采用这种方法使它们轻松一下，即使没有任何观众在场，她得不到任何同情的安慰也罢。就像古代的游侠骑士把他们情人的名字刻写在沙漠、旷野和没有任何人可能读到它们的其他荒野的地方来安慰心中的悬念一样，苏珊•尼珀向柜子和衣橱皱皱狮子鼻，向碗柜轻蔑地眨眨眼睛，向有柄的大石水罐嘲笑地斜眼瞅一瞅，并在走廊里反驳和谩骂。
不过，那两位侵犯他人权利的人却很有福气，对这位姑娘的情绪一无所知；她们看着小保罗被脱掉衣服，到户外散步，吃晚饭，上床睡觉，平安顺利地经过了所有这些阶段，然后在壁炉前面坐下来喝茶。由于波利作出善意努力的结果，两个孩子现在睡在同一个房间里；两位女士坐着喝茶的桌子正巧面对着两张小床，所以直到这时候她们才想起了弗洛伦斯。
“她睡得多熟啊！”托克斯小姐说道。
“是呀，您知道，我亲爱的，这一整天她搞了那么多的活动，”奇克夫人回答道，“一直在小保罗身边玩耍。”
“她是个奇怪的孩子，”托克斯小姐说道。
“我亲爱的，”奇克夫人低声回答道，“跟她妈妈一模一样！”
“真的吗？”托克斯小姐说道，“哎呀！”
托克斯小姐是用一种非常怜悯的声调说的，虽然她并不清楚为什么要用这样的声调，她只知道奇克夫人期望她这样说。
“弗洛伦斯永远、永远、永远也不会像董贝家里的人，”奇克夫人说道，“即使她活一千岁，也不会。”
托克斯小姐扬起眉毛，再次充满了怜悯。
“我为她感到很焦急，很烦恼，”奇克夫人端庄、贤惠地叹了一口气，说道，“我实在不知道她长大了会变成一个什么样的人，或者她将会有什么样的地位。她丝毫没能使她爸爸喜欢她。她这样不像董贝家里的人，谁又能指望她能使她爸爸喜欢她呢？”
托克斯小姐表露出一副神情，仿佛她觉得根本无法反驳这样令人信服的论断似的。
“您知道，这孩子的性格跟可怜的范妮一样，”奇克夫人满有信心地说道，“我敢说，她在今后的生活中永远也不会作出努力。永远不会！她永远不会曲曲弯弯，缠绕住她爸爸的心，就像那——”
“就像那常春藤一样？”托克斯小姐提示道。
“就像那常春藤一样，”奇克夫人同意道，“永远不会！她永远不会悄悄地藏到她爸爸慈爱的心窝中，安卧在那里，就像那——”
“就像那受惊的小鹿一样？”托克斯小姐提示道。
“就像那受惊的小鹿一样，”奇克夫人说道，“永远不会！
可怜的范妮！可是，我是多么爱她啊！”
“您自己可别太伤心了，我亲爱的，”托克斯小姐用安慰的声调说道。“唔，真是这样的！您太富于感情了！”
“我们人人都有自己的缺点，”奇克夫人哭泣着，摇着头，说道，“我敢说，我们人人都有。我决不能看不到她的缺点。我决不能说我没有看到。远不是这样。可是我是多么爱她啊！”
奇克夫人是一位平庸的、愚蠢的女人；与她相比，她的嫂子倒是一位具有女性智慧与温柔的天使；当奇克夫人回忆起那位夫人的时候，她采取了保护的、亲切的态度——与她生前时她对待她的态度完全一样——，并且完全相信她自己，欺骗她自己；由于宽大为怀而让她自己感到异常愉快，对她来说，这是多么使她感到满意的事啊！当我们是正确的时候，宽容是多么非凡愉快的美德！当我们是错误，而又完全不能证明我们是如何取得行使宽容的权利的时候，宽容也是使人很愉快的呀！
当奇克夫人还正在擦眼泪、摇着头的时候，理查兹大胆地提醒她注意，弗洛伦斯小姐醒来了，正坐在床上。这位奶妈说，她起来了，眼睫毛都被泪水沾湿了。但是除了波利以外，没有其他任何人看到它们正闪着光。没有其他任何人向她弯下身去，低声地对她说些安慰的话，或跟她挨得很近，可以听到她颤动的心房正在怦怦地跳动。
“啊！亲爱的奶妈！”孩子恳切地仰望着她的脸，说道，“让我躺在弟弟的身旁吧！”
“为什么，我的宝贝？”理查兹问道。
“啊！我觉得他爱我，”女孩子放声大哭起来。“让我躺在他的身旁吧。求求您！”
奇克夫人插进来，说了些像母亲般的话，要她像乖孩子那样去睡觉；可是弗洛伦斯还是露出受惊的神色，一遍又一遍地恳求着；她的声音不时被抽泣与眼泪所打断。
“我不会闹醒他，”她捂着脸，低着头，说道。“我只用我的手摸着他，然后睡去。啊，我求求你们，求求你们，让我今天躺在弟弟身旁吧，因为我相信他爱我！”
理查兹没有说一句话，把她抱起来，抱到那个婴孩睡觉的小床上，让她在他的身旁躺下。她尽量爬过去挨近他，不去打搅他的安息；然后她伸出一只胳膊，畏畏缩缩地搂着他的脖子，用另一只胳膊捂住她的脸；她那潮湿的、散乱的头发松散地落在她的脸上，她就这样一动不动地躺在那里。
“可怜的小东西，”托克斯小姐说道，“我想，她一定梦见什么了。”
这件小事破坏了谈话的头绪，很难使它恢复了；加上奇克夫人又沉思她自己那宽容的性格，心神分散，这时情绪不高。因此两位朋友很快就结束了喝茶，派遣一位仆人为托克斯小姐雇用一辆出租的单马篷车。托克斯小姐在雇用出租马车方面是有丰富经验的，她在动身的时候通常总要占用好多时间，因为她事先要有条不紊地做好准备性的安排。
“劳驾您，托林森，”托克斯小姐说道，“首先请带上一支笔和墨水，把他的号码清楚地记下来。”
“一定照办，小姐，”托林森说道。
“然后，劳驾您，托林森，”托克斯小姐说道，“把椅垫翻过来。”托克斯小姐转过身去单独对奇克夫人说道，“它通常是潮湿的，我亲爱的。”
“一定照办，小姐，”托林森说道。
“我还得麻烦您带上这张名片和一个先令，”托克斯小姐说道，“他必须把我送到名片上列出的地址，而且还必须明白，除了这个先令之外，他无论如何也不能要求我给更多的钱了。”
“一定照办，小姐，”托林森说道。
“还有，我很抱歉，给您添了这么多麻烦，托林森，”托克斯小姐若有所思地看着他。
“一点也不，小姐，”托林森说道。
“那么，劳驾您，托林森，请跟车夫说，”托克斯小姐说道，“这位夫人的舅舅是一位治安法庭的法官，如果他要对她稍有一点无礼的话，那么他就会受到严厉的惩罚。如果您愿意的话，托林森，您可以假装用一种友好的口吻对他说这件事，因为您知道，过去曾经这样处治过另一位车夫，他已经死了。”
“毫无问题，一定照办，”托林森说道。
“好啦，现在我祝我亲爱的，亲爱的，亲爱的教子晚安，再见了，”托克斯小姐说道，她每当重复说一次那个形容词的时候，都要伴送出一阵阵温柔的吻。“还有，路易莎，我亲爱的朋友，请答应我，在睡觉前喝点儿温暖的东西，同时自己别太伤心了！”
在奇克夫人随后离开之前，一直在密切注视着黑眼睛的尼珀，在这关键性的时刻，她很困难地克制着自己。但是当育儿室终于摆脱了这两位来客之后，她对自己刚才所受的压抑多少进行了一些补偿。
“你可以让我穿紧身衣①穿上六个星期，”尼珀说道，“而当我把它脱掉的时候，我只会更加发怒。理查兹大嫂，有谁听说过有像她们这两个格里芬②一样的吗？”
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①紧身衣（stait－waistcoat）：是管制疯人和囚犯的一种衣服。
②格里芬（Griffin）：希腊神话中的鹫头飞狮。这里指怪物。
“还说一定梦见什么了，可怜的乖乖！”波利说道。
“哼，您们这两位美人！”苏珊•尼珀向两位女士离开的那扇门故意敬了一个礼，喊道，“她永远也不会像董贝家里的人，是不是？希望她不会。一位已足够了，我们不想再要这样的人了。”
“别把孩子吵醒了，亲爱的苏珊，”波利说道。
“我对您十分感谢，理查兹大嫂，”苏珊说道，她在愤怒之中是不分青红皂白的，“我是一个黑奴，是一个白人与黑人所生的混血儿，接受您的命令我真感到荣幸。理查兹大嫂，如果还有什么其他命令您可以向我下达的，那就请说吧！”
“胡说！哪里是什么命令！”波利说道。
“啊！上帝保佑您的心，理查兹大嫂，”苏珊喊道，“干临时性活的人在这里总是命令干长期性活的人，难道您这一点也不知道吗？那么说您是在什么地方出生的呢，理查兹大嫂？可是，不论您是在什么地方出生的，理查兹大嫂，”喷火器坚决地摇着头，继续说道，“也不论您是在什么时候出生的和怎样出生的（这一点您自己最清楚了），请您记住，下达命令是一回事，接受命令又是另外一回事。一个人可以告诉另一个人头朝下，从桥上往下跳，跳到四十五英尺深的水里去，理查兹大嫂，但是这另一个人可能根本就不想跳水。”
“您看，”波利说道，“您生气了，因为您是一位善良的小人儿，而且喜爱弗洛伦斯小姐；但是由于这里没有别的人，您就冲着我出气了。”
“对有些人来说，捺住性子，说话温柔，是一件很容易的事，理查兹大嫂，”苏珊气有些消了，回答道，“因为这时候她们的孩子受到了像王子一样的对待，被宠爱，被爱抚，直到孩子希望有别的朋友为止。可是一位可爱的、漂亮的、天真的小女孩子，本来不应当当面对她说一句坏话，也不应当在背后议论她一句坏话的，却受到了不正当的指责，这情况确实是大不相同的了。哎呀，我的天哪！弗洛伊小姐，您这淘气的、造孽的孩子，要是您不在这1分钟内闭上您的眼睛的话，那么我就要把住在顶楼里的妖魔叫进来，把您活活地吃掉啦！”
这时
Chapter 6
 Paul's Second Deprivation
Polly was beset by so many misgivings in the morning, that but for the incessant promptings of her black-eyed companion, she would have abandoned all thoughts of the expedition, and formally petitioned for leave to see number one hundred and forty-seven, under the awful shadow of Mr Dombey's roof. But Susan who was personally disposed in favour of the excursion, and who (like Tony Lumpkin), if she could bear the disappointments of other people with tolerable fortitude, could not abide to disappoint herself, threw so many ingenious doubts in the way of this second thought, and stimulated the original intention with so many ingenious arguments, that almost as soon as Mr Dombey's stately back was turned, and that gentleman was pursuing his daily road towards the City, his unconscious son was on his way to Staggs's Gardens.
This euphonious locality was situated in a suburb, known by the inhabitants of Staggs's Gardens by the name of Camberling Town; a designation which the Strangers' Map of London, as printed (with a view to pleasant and commodious reference) on pocket handkerchiefs, condenses, with some show of reason, into Camden Town. Hither the two nurses bent their steps, accompanied by their charges; Richards carrying Paul, of course, and Susan leading little Florence by the hand, and giving her such jerks and pokes from time to time, as she considered it wholesome to administer.
The first shock of a great earthquake had, just at that period, rent the whole neighbourhood to its centre. Traces of its course were visible on every side. Houses were knocked down; streets broken through and stopped; deep pits and trenches dug in the ground; enormous heaps of earth and clay thrown up; buildings that were undermined and shaking, propped by great beams of wood. Here, a chaos of carts, overthrown and jumbled together, lay topsy-turvy at the bottom of a steep unnatural hill; there, confused treasures of iron soaked and rusted in something that had accidentally become a pond. Everywhere were bridges that led nowhere; thoroughfares that were wholly impassable; Babel towers of chimneys, wanting half their height; temporary wooden houses and enclosures, in the most unlikely situations; carcases of ragged tenements, and fragments of unfinished walls and arches, and piles of scaffolding, and wildernesses of bricks, and giant forms of cranes, and tripods straddling above nothing. There were a hundred thousand shapes and substances of incompleteness, wildly mingled out of their places, upside down, burrowing in the earth, aspiring in the air, mouldering in the water, and unintelligible as any dream. Hot springs and fiery eruptions, the usual attendants upon earthquakes, lent their contributions of confusion to the scene. Boiling water hissed and heaved within dilapidated walls; whence, also, the glare and roar of flames came issuing forth; and mounds of ashes blocked up rights of way, and wholly changed the law and custom of the neighbourhood.
In short, the yet unfinished and unopened Railroad was in progress; and, from the very core of all this dire disorder, trailed smoothly away, upon its mighty course of civilisation and improvement.
But as yet, the neighbourhood was shy to own the Railroad. One or two bold speculators had projected streets; and one had built a little, but had stopped among the mud and ashes to consider farther of it. A bran-new Tavern, redolent of fresh mortar and size, and fronting nothing at all, had taken for its sign The Railway Arms; but that might be rash enterprise - and then it hoped to sell drink to the workmen. So, the Excavators' House of Call had sprung up from a beer-shop; and the old-established Ham and Beef Shop had become the Railway Eating House, with a roast leg of pork daily, through interested motives of a similar immediate and popular description. Lodging-house keepers were favourable in like manner; and for the like reasons were not to be trusted. The general belief was very slow. There were frowzy fields, and cow-houses, and dunghills, and dustheaps, and ditches, and gardens, and summer-houses, and carpet-beating grounds, at the very door of the Railway. Little tumuli of oyster shells in the oyster season, and of lobster shells in the lobster season, and of broken crockery and faded cabbage leaves in all seasons, encroached upon its high places. Posts, and rails, and old cautions to trespassers, and backs of mean houses, and patches of wretched vegetation, stared it out of countenance. Nothing was the better for it, or thought of being so. If the miserable waste ground lying near it could have laughed, it would have laughed it to scorn, like many of the miserable neighbours.
Staggs's Gardens was uncommonly incredulous. It was a little row of houses, with little squalid patches of ground before them, fenced off with old doors, barrel staves, scraps of tarpaulin, and dead bushes; with bottomless tin kettles and exhausted iron fenders, thrust into the gaps. Here, the Staggs's Gardeners trained scarlet beans, kept fowls and rabbits, erected rotten summer-houses (one was an old boat), dried clothes, and smoked pipes. Some were of opinion that Staggs's Gardens derived its name from a deceased capitalist, one Mr Staggs, who had built it for his delectation. Others, who had a natural taste for the country, held that it dated from those rural times when the antlered herd, under the familiar denomination of Staggses, had resorted to its shady precincts. Be this as it may, Staggs's Gardens was regarded by its population as a sacred grove not to be withered by Railroads; and so confident were they generally of its long outliving any such ridiculous inventions, that the master chimney-sweeper at the corner, who was understood to take the lead in the local politics of the Gardens, had publicly declared that on the occasion of the Railroad opening, if ever it did open, two of his boys should ascend the flues of his dwelling, with instructions to hail the failure with derisive cheers from the chimney-pots.
To this unhallowed spot, the very name of which had hitherto been carefully concealed from Mr Dombey by his sister, was little Paul now borne by Fate and Richards
'That's my house, Susan,' said Polly, pointing it out.
'Is it, indeed, Mrs Richards?' said Susan, condescendingly.
'And there's my sister Jemima at the door, I do declare' cried Polly, 'with my own sweet precious baby in her arms!'
The sight added such an extensive pair of wings to Polly's impatience, that she set off down the Gardens at a run, and bouncing on Jemima, changed babies with her in a twinkling; to the unutterable astonishment of that young damsel, on whom the heir of the Dombeys seemed to have fallen from the clouds.
'Why, Polly!' cried Jemima. 'You! what a turn you have given me! who'd have thought it! come along in Polly! How well you do look to be sure! The children will go half wild to see you Polly, that they will.'
That they did, if one might judge from the noise they made, and the way in which they dashed at Polly and dragged her to a low chair in the chimney corner, where her own honest apple face became immediately the centre of a bunch of smaller pippins, all laying their rosy cheeks close to it, and all evidently the growth of the same tree. As to Polly, she was full as noisy and vehement as the children; and it was not until she was quite out of breath, and her hair was hanging all about her flushed face, and her new christening attire was very much dishevelled, that any pause took place in the confusion. Even then, the smallest Toodle but one remained in her lap, holding on tight with both arms round her neck; while the smallest Toodle but two mounted on the back of the chair, and made desperate efforts, with one leg in the air, to kiss her round the corner.
'Look! there's a pretty little lady come to see you,' said Polly; 'and see how quiet she is! what a beautiful little lady, ain't she?'
This reference to Florence, who had been standing by the door not unobservant of what passed, directed the attention of the younger branches towards her; and had likewise the happy effect of leading to the formal recognition of Miss Nipper, who was not quite free from a misgiving that she had been already slighted.
'Oh do come in and sit down a minute, Susan, please,' said Polly. 'This is my sister Jemima, this is. Jemima, I don't know what I should ever do with myself, if it wasn't for Susan Nipper; I shouldn't be here now but for her.'
'Oh do sit down, Miss Nipper, if you please,' quoth Jemima.
Susan took the extreme corner of a chair, with a stately and ceremonious aspect.
'I never was so glad to see anybody in all my life; now really I never was, Miss Nipper,' said Jemima.
Susan relaxing, took a little more of the chair, and smiled graciously.
'Do untie your bonnet-strings, and make yourself at home, Miss Nipper, please,' entreated Jemima. 'I am afraid it's a poorer place than you're used to; but you'll make allowances, I'm sure.'
The black-eyed was so softened by this deferential behaviour, that she caught up little Miss Toodle who was running past, and took her to Banbury Cross immediately.
'But where's my pretty boy?' said Polly. 'My poor fellow? I came all this way to see him in his new clothes.'
'Ah what a pity!' cried Jemima. 'He'll break his heart, when he hears his mother has been here. He's at school, Polly.'
'Gone already!'
'Yes. He went for the first time yesterday, for fear he should lose any learning. But it's half-holiday, Polly: if you could only stop till he comes home - you and Miss Nipper, leastways,' said Jemima, mindful in good time of the dignity of the black-eyed.
'And how does he look, Jemima, bless him!' faltered Polly.
'Well, really he don't look so bad as you'd suppose,' returned Jemima.
'Ah!' said Polly, with emotion, 'I knew his legs must be too short.'
His legs is short,' returned Jemima; 'especially behind; but they'll get longer, Polly, every day.'
It was a slow, prospective kind of consolation; but the cheerfulness and good nature with which it was administered, gave it a value it did not intrinsically possess. After a moment's silence, Polly asked, in a more sprightly manner:
'And where's Father, Jemima dear?' - for by that patriarchal appellation, Mr Toodle was generally known in the family.
'There again!' said Jemima. 'What a pity! Father took his dinner with him this morning, and isn't coming home till night. But he's always talking of you, Polly, and telling the children about you; and is the peaceablest, patientest, best-temperedest soul in the world, as he always was and will be!'
'Thankee, Jemima,' cried the simple Polly; delighted by the speech, and disappointed by the absence.
'Oh you needn't thank me, Polly,' said her sister, giving her a sounding kiss upon the cheek, and then dancing little Paul cheerfully. 'I say the same of you sometimes, and think it too.'
In spite of the double disappointment, it was impossible to regard in the light of a failure a visit which was greeted with such a reception; so the sisters talked hopefully about family matters, and about Biler, and about all his brothers and sisters: while the black-eyed, having performed several journeys to Banbury Cross and back, took sharp note of the furniture, the Dutch clock, the cupboard, the castle on the mantel-piece with red and green windows in it, susceptible of illumination by a candle-end within; and the pair of small black velvet kittens, each with a lady's reticule in its mouth; regarded by the Staggs's Gardeners as prodigies of imitative art. The conversation soon becoming general lest the black-eyed should go off at score and turn sarcastic, that young lady related to Jemima a summary of everything she knew concerning Mr Dombey, his prospects, family, pursuits, and character. Also an exact inventory of her personal wardrobe, and some account of her principal relations and friends. Having relieved her mind of these disclosures, she partook of shrimps and porter, and evinced a disposition to swear eternal friendship.
Little Florence herself was not behind-hand in improving the occasion; for, being conducted forth by the young Toodles to inspect some toad-stools and other curiosities of the Gardens, she entered with them, heart and soul, on the formation of a temporary breakwater across a small green pool that had collected in a corner. She was still busily engaged in that labour, when sought and found by Susan; who, such was her sense of duty, even under the humanizing influence of shrimps, delivered a moral address to her (punctuated with thumps) on her degenerate nature, while washing her face and hands; and predicted that she would bring the grey hairs of her family in general, with sorrow to the grave. After some delay, occasioned by a pretty long confidential interview above stairs on pecuniary subjects, between Polly and Jemima, an interchange of babies was again effected - for Polly had all this timeretained her own child, and Jemima little Paul - and the visitors took leave.
But first the young Toodles, victims of a pious fraud, were deluded into repairing in a body to a chandler's shop in the neighbourhood, for the ostensible purpose of spending a penny; and when the coast was quite clear, Polly fled: Jemima calling after her that if they could only go round towards the City Road on their way back, they would be sure to meet little Biler coming from school.
'Do you think that we might make time to go a little round in that direction, Susan?' inquired Polly, when they halted to take breath.
'Why not, Mrs Richards?' returned Susan.
'It's getting on towards our dinner time you know,' said Polly.
But lunch had rendered her companion more than indifferent to this grave consideration, so she allowed no weight to it, and they resolved to go 'a little round.'
Now, it happened that poor Biler's life had been, since yesterday morning, rendered weary by the costume of the Charitable Grinders. The youth of the streets could not endure it. No young vagabond could be brought to bear its contemplation for a moment, without throwing himself upon the unoffending wearer, and doing him a mischief. His social existence had been more like that of an early Christian, than an innocent child of the nineteenth century. He had been stoned in the streets. He had been overthrown into gutters; bespattered with mud; violently flattened against posts. Entire strangers to his person had lifted his yellow cap off his head, and cast it to the winds. His legs had not only undergone verbal criticisms and revilings, but had been handled and pinched. That very morning, he had received a perfectly unsolicited black eye on his way to the Grinders' establishment, and had been punished for it by the master: a superannuated old Grinder of savage disposition, who had been appointed schoolmaster because he didn't know anything, and wasn't fit for anything, and for whose cruel cane all chubby little boys had a perfect fascination.'
Thus it fell out that Biler, on his way home, sought unfrequented paths; and slunk along by narrow passages and back streets, to avoid his tormentors. Being compelled to emerge into the main road, his ill fortune brought him at last where a small party of boys, headed by a ferocious young butcher, were lying in wait for any means of pleasurable excitement that might happen. These, finding a Charitable Grinder in the midst of them - unaccountably delivered over, as it were, into their hands - set up a general yell and rushed upon him.
But it so fell out likewise, that, at the same time, Polly, looking hopelessly along the road before her, after a good hour's walk, had said it was no use going any further, when suddenly she saw this sight. She no sooner saw it than, uttering a hasty exclamation, and giving Master Dombey to the black-eyed, she started to the rescue of her unhappy little son.
Surprises, like misfortunes, rarely come alone. The astonished Susan Nipper and her two young charges were rescued by the bystanders from under the very wheels of a passing carriage before they knew what had happened; and at that moment (it was market day) a thundering alarm of 'Mad Bull!' was raised.
With a wild confusion before her, of people running up and down, and shouting, and wheels running over them, and boys fighting, and mad bulls coming up, and the nurse in the midst of all these dangers being torn to pieces, Florence screamed and ran. She ran till she was exhausted, urging Susan to do the same; and then, stopping and wringing her hands as she remembered they had left the other nurse behind, found, with a sensation of terror not to be described, that she was quite alone.
'Susan! Susan!' cried Florence, clapping her hands in the very ecstasy of her alarm. 'Oh, where are they? where are they?'
'Where are they?' said an old woman, coming hobbling across as fast as she could from the opposite side of the way. 'Why did you run away from 'em?'
'I was frightened,' answered Florence. 'I didn't know what I did. I thought they were with me. Where are they?'
The old woman took her by the wrist, and said, 'I'll show you.'
She was a very ugly old woman, with red rims round her eyes, and a mouth that mumbled and chattered of itself when she was not speaking. She was miserably dressed, and carried some skins over her arm. She seemed to have followed Florence some little way at all events, for she had lost her breath; and this made her uglier still, as she stood trying to regain it: working her shrivelled yellow face and throat into all sorts of contortions.
Florence was afraid of her, and looked, hesitating, up the street, of which she had almost reached the bottom. It was a solitary place - more a back road than a street - and there was no one in it but her- self and the old woman.
'You needn't be frightened now,' said the old woman, still holding her tight. 'Come along with me.'
'I - I don't know you. What's your name?' asked Florence.
'Mrs Brown,' said the old woman. 'Good Mrs Brown.'
'Are they near here?' asked Florence, beginning to be led away.
'Susan ain't far off,' said Good Mrs Brown; 'and the others are close to her.'
'Is anybody hurt?' cried Florence.
'Not a bit of it,' said Good Mrs Brown.
The child shed tears of delight on hearing this, and accompanied the old woman willingly; though she could not help glancing at her face as they went along - particularly at that industrious mouth - and wondering whether Bad Mrs Brown, if there were such a person, was at all like her.
They had not gone far, but had gone by some very uncomfortable places, such as brick-fields and tile-yards, when the old woman turned down a dirty lane, where the mud lay in deep black ruts in the middle of the road. She stopped before a shabby little house, as closely shut up as a house that was full of cracks and crevices could be. Opening the door with a key she took out of her bonnet, she pushed the child before her into a back room, where there was a great heap of rags of different colours lying on the floor; a heap of bones, and a heap of sifted dust or cinders; but there was no furniture at all, and the walls and ceiling were quite black.
The child became so terrified the she was stricken speechless, and looked as though about to swoon.
'Now don't be a young mule,' said Good Mrs Brown, reviving her with a shake. 'I'm not a going to hurt you. Sit upon the rags.'
Florence obeyed her, holding out her folded hands, in mute supplication.
'I'm not a going to keep you, even, above an hour,' said Mrs Brown. 'D'ye understand what I say?'
The child answered with great difficulty, 'Yes.'
'Then,' said Good Mrs Brown, taking her own seat on the bones, 'don't vex me. If you don't, I tell you I won't hurt you. But if you do, I'll kill you. I could have you killed at any time - even if you was in your own bed at home. Now let's know who you are, and what you are, and all about it.'
The old woman's threats and promises; the dread of giving her offence; and the habit, unusual to a child, but almost natural to Florence now, of being quiet, and repressing what she felt, and feared, and hoped; enabled her to do this bidding, and to tell her little history, or what she knew of it. Mrs Brown listened attentively, until she had finished.
'So your name's Dombey, eh?' said Mrs Brown.
'I want that pretty frock, Miss Dombey,' said Good Mrs Brown, 'and that little bonnet, and a petticoat or two, and anything else you can spare. Come! Take 'em off.'
Florence obeyed, as fast as her trembling hands would allow; keeping, all the while, a frightened eye on Mrs Brown. When she had divested herself of all the articles of apparel mentioned by that lady, Mrs B. examined them at leisure, and seemed tolerably well satisfied with their quality and value.
'Humph!' she said, running her eyes over the child's slight figure, 'I don't see anything else - except the shoes. I must have the shoes, Miss Dombey.'
Poor little Florence took them off with equal alacrity, only too glad to have any more means of conciliation about her. The old woman then produced some wretched substitutes from the bottom of the heap of rags, which she turned up for that purpose; together with a girl's cloak, quite worn out and very old; and the crushed remains of a bonnet that had probably been picked up from some ditch or dunghill. In this dainty raiment, she instructed Florence to dress herself; and as such preparation seemed a prelude to her release, the child complied with increased readiness, if possible.
In hurriedly putting on the bonnet, if that may be called a bonnet which was more like a pad to carry loads on, she caught it in her hair which grew luxuriantly, and could not immediately disentangle it. Good Mrs Brown whipped out a large pair of scissors, and fell into an unaccountable state of excitement.
'Why couldn't you let me be!' said Mrs Brown, 'when I was contented? You little fool!'
'I beg your pardon. I don't know what I have done,' panted Florence. 'I couldn't help it.'
'Couldn't help it!' cried Mrs Brown. 'How do you expect I can help it? Why, Lord!' said the old woman, ruffling her curls with a furious pleasure, 'anybody but me would have had 'em off, first of all.' Florence was so relieved to find that it was only her hair and not her head which Mrs Brown coveted, that she offered no resistance or entreaty, and merely raised her mild eyes towards the face of that good soul.
'If I hadn't once had a gal of my own - beyond seas now- that was proud of her hair,' said Mrs Brown, 'I'd have had every lock of it. She's far away, she's far away! Oho! Oho!'
Mrs Brown's was not a melodious cry, but, accompanied with a wild tossing up of her lean arms, it was full of passionate grief, and thrilled to the heart of Florence, whom it frightened more than ever. It had its part, perhaps, in saving her curls; for Mrs Brown, after hovering about her with the scissors for some moments, like a new kind of butterfly, bade her hide them under the bonnet and let no trace of them escape to tempt her. Having accomplished this victory over herself, Mrs Brown resumed her seat on the bones, and smoked a very short black pipe, mowing and mumbling all the time, as if she were eating the stem.
When the pipe was smoked out, she gave the child a rabbit-skin to carry, that she might appear the more like her ordinary companion, and told her that she was now going to lead her to a public street whence she could inquire her way to her friends. But she cautioned her, with threats of summary and deadly vengeance in case of disobedience, not to talk to strangers, nor to repair to her own home (which may have been too near for Mrs Brown's convenience), but to her father's office in the City; also to wait at the street corner where she would be left, until the clock struck three. These directions Mrs Brown enforced with assurances that there would be potent eyes and ears in her employment cognizant of all she did; and these directions Florence promised faithfully and earnestly to observe.
At length, Mrs Brown, issuing forth, conducted her changed and ragged little friend through a labyrinth of narrow streets and lanes and alleys, which emerged, after a long time, upon a stable yard, with a gateway at the end, whence the roar of a great thoroughfare made itself audible. Pointing out this gateway, and informing Florence that when the clocks struck three she was to go to the left, Mrs Brown, after making a parting grasp at her hair which seemed involuntary and quite beyond her own control, told her she knew what to do, and bade her go and do it: remembering that she was watched.
With a lighter heart, but still sore afraid, Florence felt herself released, and tripped off to the corner. When she reached it, she looked back and saw the head of Good Mrs Brown peeping out of the low wooden passage, where she had issued her parting injunctions; likewise the fist of Good Mrs Brown shaking towards her. But though she often looked back afterwards - every minute, at least, in her nervous recollection of the old woman - she could not see her again.
Florence remained there, looking at the bustle in the street, and more and more bewildered by it; and in the meanwhile the clocks appeared to have made up their minds never to strike three any more. At last the steeples rang out three o'clock; there was one close by, so she couldn't be mistaken; and - after often looking over her shoulder, and often going a little way, and as often coming back again, lest the all-powerful spies of Mrs Brown should take offence - she hurried off, as fast as she could in her slipshod shoes, holding the rabbit-skin tight in her hand.
All she knew of her father's offices was that they belonged to Dombey and Son, and that that was a great power belonging to the City. So she could only ask the way to Dombey and Son's in the City; and as she generally made inquiry of children - being afraid to ask grown people - she got very little satisfaction indeed. But by dint of asking her way to the City after a while, and dropping the rest of her inquiry for the present, she really did advance, by slow degrees, towards the heart of that great region which is governed by the terrible Lord Mayor.
Tired of walking, repulsed and pushed about, stunned by the noise and confusion, anxious for her brother and the nurses, terrified by what she had undergone, and the prospect of encountering her angry father in such an altered state; perplexed and frightened alike by what had passed, and what was passing, and what was yet before her; Florence went upon her weary way with tearful eyes, and once or twice could not help stopping to ease her bursting heart by crying bitterly. But few people noticed her at those times, in the garb she wore: or if they did, believed that she was tutored to excite compassion, and passed on. Florence, too, called to her aid all the firmness and self-reliance of a character that her sad experience had prematurely formed and tried: and keeping the end she had in view steadily before her, steadily pursued it.
It was full two hours later in the afternoon than when she had started on this strange adventure, when, escaping from the clash and clangour of a narrow street full of carts and waggons, she peeped into a kind of wharf or landing-place upon the river-side, where there were a great many packages, casks, and boxes, strewn about; a large pair of wooden scales; and a little wooden house on wheels, outside of which, looking at the neighbouring masts and boats, a stout man stood whistling, with his pen behind his ear, and his hands in his pockets, as if his day's work were nearly done.
'Now then! 'said this man, happening to turn round. 'We haven't got anything for you, little girl. Be off!'
'If you please, is this the City?' asked the trembling daughter of the Dombeys.
'Ah! It's the City. You know that well enough, I daresay. Be off! We haven't got anything for you.'
'I don't want anything, thank you,' was the timid answer. 'Except to know the way to Dombey and Son's.'
The man who had been strolling carelessly towards her, seemed surprised by this reply, and looking attentively in her face, rejoined:
'Why, what can you want with Dombey and Son's?'
'To know the way there, if you please.'
The man looked at her yet more curiously, and rubbed the back of his head so hard in his wonderment that he knocked his own hat off.
'Joe!' he called to another man - a labourer- as he picked it up and put it on again.
'Joe it is!' said Joe.
'Where's that young spark of Dombey's who's been watching the shipment of them goods?'
'Just gone, by t'other gate,' said Joe.
'Call him back a minute.'
Joe ran up an archway, bawling as he went, and very soon returned
with a blithe-looking boy.
'You're Dombey's jockey, ain't you?' said the first man.
'I'm in Dombey's House, Mr Clark,' returned the boy.
'Look'ye here, then,' said Mr Clark.
Obedient to the indication of Mr Clark's hand, the boy approached towards Florence, wondering, as well he might, what he had to do with her. But she, who had heard what passed, and who, besides the relief of so suddenly considering herself safe at her journey's end, felt reassured beyond all measure by his lively youthful face and manner, ran eagerly up to him, leaving one of the slipshod shoes upon the ground and caught his hand in both of hers.
'I am lost, if you please!' said Florence.
'Lost!' cried the boy.
'Yes, I was lost this morning, a long way from here - and I have had my clothes taken away, since - and I am not dressed in my own now - and my name is Florence Dombey, my little brother's only sister - and, oh dear, dear, take care of me, if you please!' sobbed Florence, giving full vent to the childish feelings she had so long suppressed, and bursting into tears. At the same time her miserable bonnet falling off, her hair came tumbling down about her face: moving to speechless admiration and commiseration, young Walter, nephew of Solomon Gills, Ships' Instrument-maker in general.
Mr Clark stood rapt in amazement: observing under his breath, I never saw such a start on this wharf before. Walter picked up the shoe, and put it on the little foot as the Prince in the story might have fitted Cinderella's slipper on. He hung the rabbit-skin over his left arm; gave the right to Florence; and felt, not to say like Richard Whittington - that is a tame comparison - but like Saint George of England, with the dragon lying dead before him.
'Don't cry, Miss Dombey,' said Walter, in a transport of
enthusiasm.
'What a wonderful thing for me that I am here! You are as safe now as if you were guarded by a whole boat's crew of picked men from a man-of-war. Oh, don't cry.'
'I won't cry any more,' said Florence. 'I am only crying for joy.'
'Crying for joy!' thought Walter, 'and I'm the cause of it! Come along, Miss Dombey. There's the other shoe off now! Take mine, Miss Dombey.'
'No, no, no,' said Florence, checking him in the act of impetuously
pulling off his own. 'These do better. These do very well.'
'Why, to be sure,' said Walter, glancing at her foot, 'mine are a mile too large. What am I thinking about! You never could walk in mine! Come along, Miss Dombey. Let me see the villain who will dare molest you now.'
So Walter, looking immensely fierce, led off Florence, looking very happy; and they went arm-in-arm along the streets, perfectly indifferent to any astonishment that their appearance might or did excite by the way.
It was growing dark and foggy, and beginning to rain too; but they cared nothing for this: being both wholly absorbed in the late adventures of Florence, which she related with the innocent good faith and confidence of her years, while Walter listened as if, far from the mud and grease of Thames Street, they were rambling alone among the broad leaves and tall trees of some desert island in the tropics - as he very likely fancied, for the time, they were.
'Have we far to go?' asked Florence at last, lilting up her eyes to her companion's face.
'Ah! By-the-bye,' said Walter, stopping, 'let me see; where are we? Oh! I know. But the offices are shut up now, Miss Dombey. There's nobody there. Mr Dombey has gone home long ago. I suppose we must go home too? or, stay. Suppose I take you to my Uncle's, where I live - it's very near here - and go to your house in a coach to tell them you are safe, and bring you back some clothes. Won't that be best?'
'I think so,' answered Florence. 'Don't you? What do you think?'
As they stood deliberating in the street, a man passed them, who glanced quickly at Walter as he went by, as if he recognised him; but seeming to correct that first impression, he passed on without stopping.
'Why, I think it's Mr Carker,' said Walter. 'Carker in our House. Not Carker our Manager, Miss Dombey - the other Carker; the Junior - Halloa! Mr Carker!'
'Is that Walter Gay?' said the other, stopping and returning. 'I couldn't believe it, with such a strange companion.
As he stood near a lamp, listening with surprise to Walter's hurried explanation, he presented a remarkable contrast to the two youthful figures arm-in-arm before him. He was not old, but his hair was white; his body was bent, or bowed as if by the weight of some great trouble: and there were deep lines in his worn and melancholy face. The fire of his eyes, the expression of his features, the very voice in which he spoke, were all subdued and quenched, as if the spirit within him lay in ashes. He was respectably, though very plainly dressed, in black; but his clothes, moulded to the general character of his figure, seemed to shrink and abase themselves upon him, and to join in the sorrowful solicitation which the whole man from head to foot expressed, to be left unnoticed, and alone in his humility.
And yet his interest in youth and hopefulness was not extinguished with the other embers of his soul, for he watched the boy's earnest countenance as he spoke with unusual sympathy, though with an inexplicable show of trouble and compassion, which escaped into his looks, however hard he strove to hold it prisoner. When Walter, in conclusion, put to him the question he had put to Florence, he still stood glancing at him with the same expression, as if he had read some fate upon his face, mournfully at variance with its present brightness.
'What do you advise, Mr Carker?' said Walter, smiling. 'You always give me good advice, you know, when you do speak to me. That's not often, though.'
'I think your own idea is the best,' he answered: looking from Florence to Walter, and back again.
'Mr Carker,' said Walter, brightening with a generous thought, 'Come! Here's a chance for you. Go you to Mr Dombey's, and be the messenger of good news. It may do you some good, Sir. I'll remain at home. You shall go.'
'I!' returned the other.
'Yes. Why not, Mr Carker?' said the boy.
He merely shook him by the hand in answer; he seemed in a manner ashamed and afraid even to do that; and bidding him good-night, and advising him to make haste, turned away.
'Come, Miss Dombey,' said Walter, looking after him as they turned away also, 'we'll go to my Uncle's as quick as we can. Did you ever hear Mr Dombey speak of Mr Carker the Junior, Miss Florence?'
'No,' returned the child, mildly, 'I don't often hear Papa speak.'
'Ah! true! more shame for him,' thought Walter. After a minute's pause, during which he had been looking down upon the gentle patient little face moving on at his side, he said, 'The strangest man, Mr Carker the Junior is, Miss Florence, that ever you heard of. If you could understand what an extraordinary interest he takes in me, and yet how he shuns me and avoids me; and what a low place he holds in our office, and how he is never advanced, and never complains, though year after year he sees young men passed over his head, and though his brother (younger than he is), is our head Manager, you would be as much puzzled about him as I am.'
As Florence could hardly be expected to understand much about it, Walter bestirred himself with his accustomed boyish animation and restlessness to change the subject; and one of the unfortunate shoes coming off again opportunely, proposed to carry Florence to his uncle's in his arms. Florence, though very tired, laughingly declined the proposal, lest he should let her fall; and as they were already near the wooden Midshipman, and as Walter went on to cite various precedents, from shipwrecks and other moving accidents, where younger boys than he had triumphantly rescued and carried off older girls than Florence, they were still in full conversation about it when they arrived at the Instrument-maker's door.
'Holloa, Uncle Sol!' cried Walter, bursting into the shop, and speaking incoherently and out of breath, from that time forth, for the rest of the evening. 'Here's a wonderful adventure! Here's Mr Dombey's daughter lost in the streets, and robbed of her clothes by an old witch of a woman - found by me - brought home to our parlour to rest - look here!'
'Good Heaven!' said Uncle Sol, starting back against his favourite compass-case. 'It can't be! Well, I - '
'No, nor anybody else,' said Walter, anticipating the rest. 'Nobody would, nobody could, you know. Here! just help me lift the little sofa near the fire, will you, Uncle Sol - take care of the plates - cut some dinner for her, will you, Uncle - throw those shoes under the grate. Miss Florence - put your feet on the fender to dry - how damp they are - here's an adventure, Uncle, eh? - God bless my soul, how hot I am!'
Solomon Gills was quite as hot, by sympathy, and in excessive bewilderment. He patted Florence's head, pressed her to eat, pressed her to drink, rubbed the soles of her feet with his pocket-handkerchief heated at the fire, followed his locomotive nephew with his eyes, and ears, and had no clear perception of anything except that he was being constantly knocked against and tumbled over by that excited young gentleman, as he darted about the room attempting to accomplish twenty things at once, and doing nothing at all.
'Here, wait a minute, Uncle,' he continued, catching up a candle, 'till I run upstairs, and get another jacket on, and then I'll be off. I say, Uncle, isn't this an adventure?'
'My dear boy,' said Solomon, who, with his spectacles on his forehead and the great chronometer in his pocket, was incessantly oscillating between Florence on the sofa, and his nephew in all parts of the parlour, 'it's the most extraordinary - '
'No, but do, Uncle, please - do, Miss Florence - dinner, you know, Uncle.'
'Yes, yes, yes,' cried Solomon, cutting instantly into a leg of mutton, as if he were catering for a giant. 'I'll take care of her, Wally! I understand. Pretty dear! Famished, of course. You go and get ready. Lord bless me! Sir Richard Whittington thrice Lord Mayor of London.'
Walter was not very long in mounting to his lofty garret and descending from it, but in the meantime Florence, overcome by fatigue, had sunk into a doze before the fire. The short interval of quiet, though only a few minutes in duration, enabled Solomon Gills so far to collect his wits as to make some little arrangements for her comfort, and to darken the room, and to screen her from the blaze. Thus, when the boy returned, she was sleeping peacefully.
'That's capital!' he whispered, giving Solomon such a hug that it squeezed a new expression into his face. 'Now I'm off. I'll just take a crust of bread with me, for I'm very hungry - and don't wake her, Uncle Sol.'
'No, no,' said Solomon. 'Pretty child.'
'Pretty, indeed!' cried Walter. 'I never saw such a face, Uncle Sol. Now I'm off.'
'That's right,' said Solomon, greatly relieved.
'I say, Uncle Sol,' cried Walter, putting his face in at the door.
'Here he is again,' said Solomon.
'How does she look now?'
'Quite happy,' said Solomon.
'That's famous! now I'm off.'
'I hope you are,' said Solomon to himself.
'I say, Uncle Sol,' cried Walter, reappearing at the door.
'Here he is again!' said Solomon.
'We met Mr Carker the Junior in the street, queerer than ever. He bade me good-bye, but came behind us here - there's an odd thing! - for when we reached the shop door, I looked round, and saw him going quietly away, like a servant who had seen me home, or a faithful dog. How does she look now, Uncle?'
'Pretty much the same as before, Wally,' replied Uncle Sol.
'That's right. Now I am off!'
And this time he really was: and Solomon Gills, with no appetite for dinner, sat on the opposite side of the fire, watching Florence in her slumber, building a great many airy castles of the most fantastic architecture; and looking, in the dim shade, and in the close vicinity of all the instruments, like a magician disguised in a Welsh wig and a suit of coffee colour, who held the child in an enchanted sleep.
In the meantime, Walter proceeded towards Mr Dombey's house at a pace seldom achieved by a hack horse from the stand; and yet with his head out of window every two or three minutes, in impatient remonstrance with the driver. Arriving at his journey's end, he leaped out, and breathlessly announcing his errand to the servant, followed him straight into the library, we there was a great confusion of tongues, and where Mr Dombey, his sister, and Miss Tox, Richards, and Nipper, were all congregated together.
'Oh! I beg your pardon, Sir,' said Walter, rushing up to him, 'but I'm happy to say it's all right, Sir. Miss Dombey's found!'
The boy with his open face, and flowing hair, and sparkling eyes, panting with pleasure and excitement, was wonderfully opposed to Mr Dombey, as he sat confronting him in his library chair.
'I told you, Louisa, that she would certainly be found,' said Mr Dombey, looking slightly over his shoulder at that lady, who wept in company with Miss Tox. 'Let the servants know that no further steps are necessary. This boy who brings the information, is young Gay, from the office. How was my daughter found, Sir? I know how she was lost.' Here he looked majestically at Richards. 'But how was she found? Who found her?'
'Why, I believe I found Miss Dombey, Sir,' said Walter modestly, 'at least I don't know that I can claim the merit of having exactly found her, Sir, but I was the fortunate instrument of - '
'What do you mean, Sir,' interrupted Mr Dombey, regarding the boy's evident pride and pleasure in his share of the transaction with an instinctive dislike, 'by not having exactly found my daughter, and by being a fortunate instrument? Be plain and coherent, if you please.'
It was quite out of Walter's power to be coherent; but he rendered himself as explanatory as he could, in his breathless state, and stated why he had come alone.
'You hear this, girl?' said Mr Dombey sternly to the black-eyed. 'Take what is necessary, and return immediately with this young man to fetch Miss Florence home. Gay, you will be rewarded to-morrow.
'Oh! thank you, Sir,' said Walter. 'You are very kind. I'm sure I was not thinking of any reward, Sir.'
'You are a boy,' said Mr Dombey, suddenly and almost fiercely; 'and what you think of, or affect to think of, is of little consequence. You have done well, Sir. Don't undo it. Louisa, please to give the lad some wine.'
Mr Dombey's glance followed Walter Gay with sharp disfavour, as he left the room under the pilotage of Mrs Chick; and it may be that his mind's eye followed him with no greater relish, as he rode back to his Uncle's with Miss Susan Nipper.
There they found that Florence, much refreshed by sleep, had dined, and greatly improved the acquaintance of Solomon Gills, with whom she was on terms of perfect confidence and ease. The black-eyed (who had cried so much that she might now be called the red-eyed, and who was very silent and depressed) caught her in her arms without a word of contradiction or reproach, and made a very hysterical meeting of it. Then converting the parlour, for the nonce, into a private tiring room, she dressed her, with great care, in proper clothes; and presently led her forth, as like a Dombey as her natural disqualifications admitted of her being made.
'Good-night!' said Florence, running up to Solomon. 'You have been very good to me.
Old Sol was quite delighted, and kissed her like her grand-father.
'Good-night, Walter! Good-bye!' said Florence.
'Good-bye!' said Walter, giving both his hands.
'I'll never forget you,' pursued Florence. 'No! indeed I never will. Good-bye, Walter!' In the innocence of her grateful heart, the child lifted up her face to his. Walter, bending down his own, raised it again, all red and burning; and looked at Uncle Sol, quite sheepishly.
'Where's Walter?' 'Good-night, Walter!' 'Good-bye, Walter!' 'Shake hands once more, Walter!' This was still Florence's cry, after she was shut up with her little maid, in the coach. And when the coach at length moved off, Walter on the door-step gaily turned the waving of her handkerchief, while the wooden Midshipman behind him seemed, like himself, intent upon that coach alone, excluding all the other passing coaches from his observation.
In good time Mr Dombey's mansion was gained again, and again there was a noise of tongues in the library. Again, too, the coach was ordered to wait - 'for Mrs Richards,' one of Susan's fellow-servants ominously whispered, as she passed with Florence.
The entrance of the lost child made a slight sensation, but not much. Mr Dombey, who had never found her, kissed her once upon the forehead, and cautioned her not to run away again, or wander anywhere with treacherous attendants. Mrs Chick stopped in her lamentations on the corruption of human nature, even when beckoned to the paths of virtue by a Charitable Grinder; and received her with a welcome something short of the reception due to none but perfect Dombeys. Miss Tox regulated her feelings by the models before her. Richards, the culprit Richards, alone poured out her heart in broken words of welcome, and bowed herself over the little wandering head as if she really loved it.
'Ah, Richards!' said Mrs Chick, with a sigh. 'It would have been much more satisfactory to those who wish to think well of their fellow creatures, and much more becoming in you, if you had shown some proper feeling, in time, for the little child that is now going to be prematurely deprived of its natural nourishment.
'Cut off,' said Miss Tox, in a plaintive whisper, 'from one common fountain!'
'If it was ungrateful case,' said Mrs Chick, solemnly, 'and I had your reflections, Richards, I should feel as if the Charitable Grinders' dress would blight my child, and the education choke him.'
For the matter of that - but Mrs Chick didn't know it - he had been pretty well blighted by the dress already; and as to the education, even its retributive effect might be produced in time, for it was a storm of sobs and blows.
'Louisa!' said Mr Dombey. 'It is not necessary to prolong these observations. The woman is discharged and paid. You leave this house, Richards, for taking my son - my son,' said Mr Dombey, emphatically repeating these two words, 'into haunts and into society which are not to be thought of without a shudder. As to the accident which befel Miss Florence this morning, I regard that as, in one great sense, a happy and fortunate circumstance; inasmuch as, but for that occurrence, I never could have known - and from your own lips too - of what you had been guilty. I think, Louisa, the other nurse, the young person,' here Miss Nipper sobbed aloud, 'being so much younger, and necessarily influenced by Paul's nurse, may remain. Have the goodness to direct that this woman's coach is paid to' - Mr Dombey stopped and winced - 'to Staggs's Gardens.'
Polly moved towards the door, with Florence holding to her dress, and crying to her in the most pathetic manner not to go away. It was a dagger in the haughty father's heart, an arrow in his brain, to see how the flesh and blood he could not disown clung to this obscure stranger, and he sitting by. Not that he cared to whom his daughter turned, or from whom turned away. The swift sharp agony struck through him, as he thought of what his son might do.
His son cried lustily that night, at all events. Sooth to say, poor Paul had better reason for his tears than sons of that age often have, for he had lost his second mother - his first, so far as he knew - by a stroke as sudden as that natural affliction which had darkened the beginning of his life. At the same blow, his sister too, who cried herself to sleep so mournfully, had lost as good and true a friend. But that is quite beside the question. Let us waste no words about it.
 
到了早上，波利由于顾虑重重，心中十分忐忑不安；若不是她那位黑眼睛的女伴不断怂恿，她就会断绝这次外出远走的各种念头，而改为提出正式申请，请求在董贝先生屋顶的森严的阴影下，与147号见见面。可是苏珊本人有意进行这次短途旅行；她像托尼•拉姆金①一样，能够用坚强的意志忍受另人的沮丧失意，但却决不能容忍让自己的希望落空；于是她对波利的第二种想法巧妙地提出了许多疑问，对原先的打算则巧妙地发表了许多支持的意见，所以几乎当董贝先生这位绅士一转开他庄严的后背，沿着平日的道路向城里进发的时候，他的一无所知的儿子就已经上了前往斯塔格斯花园的路了。
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①托尼•拉姆金（TonyLampkin）：英国作家奥利弗•戈德史密斯（OliverGold－smith，1728—1774）所写歌剧《屈身求爱》（SheStoopstoConquer，1771年发表）中的主人翁之一。他是个愚蠢、自私的人。
这个声音悦耳的地方座落在一个郊区，斯塔格斯花园的居民们都管它叫做坎伯林镇；有一种为了查找起来有趣和方便，印在手绢上供外地游客使用的伦敦地图，不无理由地把这个地名缩写为坎登镇。两位保姆在她们所抚养的孩子的陪伴下，就向这里走去。理查兹当然抱着保罗，苏珊则拉着小弗洛伦斯的手，而且不时在她认为对她指挥合适的时候，猛拉她一下，狠戳她一下。
这个时期发生的大地震，第一次震动就把整个地区都震裂了，一直达到它的中心。到处都可以看到地震留下的痕迹。房屋倒塌了；街道完全裂开和堵塞了；地底下被挖掘成深深的凹坑和沟渠；大堆大堆的泥土高高堆积；建筑物由于基础遭到破坏，动摇不牢，正用大根的木头支撑着。这里，翻倒在地、杂乱一团的大车横七竖八地躺在一座峻峭的非自然的小山底下；那里，珍贵的铁器毫无条理地浸泡在偶然形成的池塘中，腐蚀生锈。到处是不通向任何地方的桥梁，完全不能通行的大路，失去一半高度、像巴别塔①一样的烟囱，在最意想不到的场所临时搭建的木房子和围栏，破烂的住房的骨架，未建成的墙和拱门的断片，一堆堆的脚手架，杂乱无章的砖块，巨人般的起重机以及跨立在空处的三脚架。这里有十几万个没有完成的形状和实体，散乱地混杂在一起，上下倒立，深埋在地下，高耸在空中，腐烂在水里，像梦一样地难以理解。地震通常的伴随物——温泉和火焰喷发，对整个场景增添上一份混乱。在颓垣断壁之内，沸腾的水上下滚动，发出了嘶嘶的声音，从那里也发出了火焰的闪耀与怒号；山丘般的灰烬堵塞了来往通道，而且完全改变了本地的法律与风俗。
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①巴别塔（Babeltower）：圣经《创世纪》中的故事说：在洪水大劫之后，挪亚的子孙成群向东迁移，走到示拿地方，发现一片广袤的原野，就决定在那里住下来，并在那里建一座城，城中建一座塔，塔顶通天；不久，那塔节节升高，直入云霄。但后来耶和华变乱了他们的口音，使他们从本来只说一种语言变为说出各种各样的语言；由于语言不通，停工待料，人们逐渐走散，那座城和那座塔也就半途而废了。半途而废的原因在于语言的变乱。“变乱”一词在希伯来语中读作“巴别”，因此人们就管那座城叫巴别城，管那座塔叫巴别塔。
简单地说，尚未峻工、尚未通车的铁路正在修建中，它从极端杂乱的中心，沿着它的文明与进步的宏伟路线，平静地、慢慢地向远处延伸。
可是到现在为止，附近的居民还羞于承认这条铁路。一两个大胆的投机商已经在筹划修建街道；有一位已经动工修建了一点儿，但却在泥淖与灰烬中间停顿下来，需要再考虑考虑。有一个新开张的小酒店，店里散发着新鲜的灰浆与胶料的气味，店前只有一片空地，它已经把铁路纹章画在它的招牌上了；但这可能是个未经深思熟虑、草草创办的企业——这时它希望能卖些酒给工人喝。同样，“掘路工人之家”设在一个啤酒店里；一家开设好久的火腿与牛肉店同样由于直接的和可以受到欢迎的营利动机，已改变为铁路饮食店，每天卖出一只烤猪腿。公寓老板也同样讨人喜欢，并且由于同样原因不能受到人们的信任。人们的信心增长得很慢。在铁路线开始的地方有霉臭难闻的田野、牛棚、粪堆、垃圾堆、水沟、菜园、凉亭和敲打地毯的场地。在牡蛎季节中的牡蛎壳，在龙虾季节中的龙虾壳，在所有季节中的破碎的陶器和枯萎的卷心菜叶，像小坟般一堆一堆地侵占了铁路线的路堤。标竿、围栏、对入侵者的旧警告牌、简陋房屋的后背和长着衰败植物的地块瞪眼看着这条铁路，看得它局促不安。没有什么由于它而比过去更好，或认为比过去好。如果附近可怜的荒地能够发笑的话，那么它也会像许多可怜的邻居一样，对它冷嘲热讽一番的。
斯塔格斯花园异乎寻常地令人难以置信。这里有一小排房屋，房屋前面是一片污秽的土地；房屋与房屋之间被旧的门、楼板、涂了柏油的帆布片和枯死的矮树丛隔开，缝隙里塞上没有底的白铁壶和不堪使用的铁制火炉围栏。斯塔格斯花园的园丁们在这里栽培红豆，饲养家禽、兔子，建造简陋的凉亭（其中一个是一条旧的小船），晾晒衣服，叼着烟斗吸烟。有些人说，斯塔格斯花园是为了纪念一位已故的资本家斯塔格斯先生而命名的，这位先生建造它是为了供他消遣娱乐。另有一些生性喜爱乡村的人认为，这个名称的由来应该追溯到安逸幽静、田园诗般的那段时光，那时候称为斯塔格斯的长角的兽群常常到荫凉的效野栖身安息。不论实际情况怎么样，当地的居民们都把斯塔格斯花园看作是一个神圣的园林，不许被铁路消灭；他们深信它的寿命必定会比这类可笑的发明长得多，所以住在角落里的扫烟囱的工长（大家都认为他在花园的当地政治中坐第一把交椅）曾经当众宣布，在铁路举行通车典礼的时候（如果它有一天真能通车的话），他的两个孩子将会攀登上他的房屋的烟道，按照他的指示，嘲笑、欢呼他们想要消灭斯塔格斯花园的计划已告失败。
小保罗现在就由命运和理查兹带往这个亵渎神明的地方；董贝先生的妹妹至今还对她的哥哥隐瞒着它的名称。
“那就是我的家，苏珊，”波利指着它，说道。
“真的吗，理查兹大嫂？”苏珊谦和地说道。
“站在门口的是我的妹妹杰迈玛，准没错！”波利喊道，“她手里抱着的是我自己可爱的宝贝娃娃！”
这个情景在波利的急切难耐的心情上增添了一对十分宽阔的翅膀，因此她开始沿着花园奔跑过去，蹦跳到杰迈玛的身边，一转眼的工夫就跟她的妹妹交换了婴孩；那位年轻的姑娘大吃一惊，董贝的继承人似乎是从云霄中降落到她的怀里一样。
“啊，波利！”杰迈玛喊道。“瞧你！你真让我吓了一跳！谁可曾料得到啊！进来吧，波利！你看去气色真好！孩子们见到你准要乐疯了，准是的，波利！”
如果我们从他们发出的喧闹的声音、从他们向波利猛冲过去，把她拽到壁炉边一张矮椅子里的情景来判断的话，那么他们确实是这样的。她坐在那里，她自己那张诚实的苹果脸立刻变成了一串小苹果的中心；他们红润的脸颊全都紧挨着它，显然全都是同一株树的产物。至于波利本人，她也像孩子们一样吵吵嚷嚷，热情激动。直到她完全喘不过气来，她的头发披散到通红的脸上，她为施洗礼而缝制的新衣服被揉得很皱，这时候混乱才慢慢平息下来。甚至在这时候，第二个最小的图德尔还依旧坐在她的膝盖上，两只手紧紧地抱着她的脖子；第三个最小的图德尔则爬到椅背上；一条腿在空中摆动，作出拼命的努力，想从边角里去吻她。
“看！一位漂亮的小姐来看你们啦，”波利说道，“看她多么安静！她是个多么漂亮的小姐啊，是不是？”
这是指弗洛伦斯，她一直站在门边，不是没有注意到刚才发生的情形，这时她吸引了嫩枝们对她的注意，而且，同样幸运的是，随后波利就正式介绍尼珀；尼珀姑娘很有些担心，她已经被怠慢了。
“啊，请进来坐一会儿吧，苏珊！”波利说道。“这是我的妹妹杰迈玛，这就是。杰迈玛，要是没有苏珊•尼珀，我自己真不知道该怎么办；要是没有她，那么我现在就不会在这里啦。”
“啊，请坐吧，尼珀姑娘，”杰迈玛说道。
苏珊庄严地、十分讲究礼节地在一张椅子中的一个极小的角落里坐下。
“我这一辈子从来还没有见到谁能像现在见到您这么高兴，尼珀姑娘，真是从来没有过，”杰迈玛说道。
苏珊轻松下来，往椅子里多坐进去一点，亲切地微笑着。
“请把您的帽带解开吧，尼珀姑娘，随便些，就像到您自己家里一样，”杰迈玛请求道。“我担心您还没有住过这样破旧的地方，不过我想您一定会包涵的。”
这种表示敬意的态度使黑眼睛软化了，她把从身旁跑过去的图德尔小姑娘抱到膝盖上，立刻给她唱起到班伯里①十字架去旅行的歌曲。
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①班伯里（Banbury）：英格兰牛津郡查韦尔（Charwell）区城镇。
“可是我可爱的儿子在哪里呢？”波利问道。“我可怜的小家伙？我跑这么多的路到这里来就是想看看穿上新衣服的他呀。”
“啊，真可惜！”杰迈玛喊道。“他回来听说他妈妈曾经回家来过，一定会万分伤心的。他现在在学校里呢，波利。”
“已经到学校里去了吗？”
“是的。他昨天是头一天去的，生怕晚去就会丢掉一些功课学不上。不过今天只上半天课，波利；如果你——你和尼珀姑娘，能等到他回来就好了，”杰迈玛说道，她及时地注意照顾到黑眼睛的面子。“他看上去怎么样，杰迈玛，愿上帝保佑他！”波利结结巴巴地说道。
“唔，他看上去确实并不像你想的那么坏，”杰迈玛回答道。
“啊！”波利激动地说道，“我知道他的腿一定太短了。”
“他的腿确实是短，”杰迈玛答道，“特别是从后面看；但它们会一天天长起来的，波利。”
这个安慰是一种指望于未来的、过程缓慢的安慰；但是给予这个安慰时愉快的口吻与善良的心意使它具有一种它本来并不含有的价值。在片刻的沉默之后，波利用一种比较轻松愉快的语气问道：
“爸爸在哪里呢，亲爱的杰迈玛？”因为在家里通常都是用这个家族的称呼来指图德尔先生的。
“哎呀，你看！”杰迈玛说道，“又是真可惜！爸爸今天早上把晚饭带着走的，要到夜里才回来。不过他经常谈起你，波利，还经常把关于你的一些事情讲给孩子们听；他是世界上最和气、最耐性、脾气最好的人。他过去一直是这样，将来也将会是这样的！”
“谢谢你，杰迈玛，”纯朴的波利喊道；这番话使她高兴，可是人不在又使她失望。
“啊，你不用谢我，波利，”她的妹妹在她的脸颊上使劲地吻了一下，说道，一边兴高采烈地舞弄着小保罗。“我有时也这样说到你，心里也是这样想的。”
虽然感到双重的失望，但却不可能把受到这样热烈欢迎的一次访问看作是一次失败；所以两姐妹就满怀希望地谈起家常事务，谈到拜勒，谈到他的弟弟和妹妹们；在这段时间中，黑眼睛在到班伯里十字架去的旅行已来回了好几趟以后，就细细地观察室内的家具、荷兰钟、碗柜、壁炉台上的城堡，城堡里有红色的和绿色的窗子，里面点一根烛头就可以把它们照亮；还有一对黑色的丝绒制的小猫，每只嘴里都衔着一只贵妇人用的网状手提包，斯塔格斯花园里的人们都认为这是仿制艺术的珍品。不久，唯恐黑眼睛会突然情不自禁地说出挖苦的话来，谈话就转到大家都能参加的一般内容，于是那位年轻的姑娘就把她所知道的有关董贝先生的一切，如他的前途，他的家庭，他的事业和他的性格，都向杰迈玛简略地叙述了一番。她也详详细细、一件不漏地列举了她个人全部服装的清单，还稍稍谈到她的主要的亲戚和朋友。把这些话开诚布公地说出，不再积压在心头以后，她吃起河虾，喝起黑啤酒来，这时心情愉快，随时准备为永恒的友谊而发愿起誓。
小弗洛伦斯在利用这个机会方面也不落后。因为当小图德尔们陪伴她去看毒菌和花园里的其他新奇事物时，她和他们一起专心一意地在一个角落里由积水形成的一个绿色的小池塘中，着手修建一个临时防波堤。当她仍在忙忙碌碌地从事这项劳动时，苏珊把她寻找到了。虽然在河虾的影响下，苏珊已变得通达人情，可是她仍怀有强烈的责任感，所以她一边给弗洛伦斯洗脸洗手，一边针对她这种变坏了的品性，向她发表了一篇训诫性的谈话；她一边说，一边用拳头打她，作为标点符号，并预言她将使她全家的老人都伤心而死。波利与杰迈玛在楼上相当长久地谈了一些有关金钱方面的私房话，稍稍耽搁了一些时间；在这之后，她们就重新交换了婴孩——因为波利一直抱着她亲生的孩子，杰迈玛则抱着小保罗——，来访的人于是也告辞了。
但是首先是把年轻的图德尔们（他们是一个意向善良的骗局的牺牲品）哄骗到一个邻近的零售店里去，表面上的理由是让他们把一个便士在那里花掉。障碍一经排除，波利就拔脚逃走了；杰迈玛在她的后面大声叫喊说，她们回去时只要稍稍绕点路，沿着去城
Chapter 7
A Bird's-eye Glimpse of Miss Tox's Dwelling-place: also of the State of Miss Tox's Affections
Miss Tox inhabited a dark little house that had been squeezed, at some remote period of English History, into a fashionable neighbourhood at the west end of the town, where it stood in the shade like a poor relation of the great street round the corner, coldly looked down upon by mighty mansions. It was not exactly in a court, and it was not exactly in a yard; but it was in the dullest of No-Thoroughfares, rendered anxious and haggard by distant double knocks. The name of this retirement, where grass grew between the chinks in the stone pavement, was Princess's Place; and in Princess's Place was Princess's Chapel, with a tinkling bell, where sometimes as many as five-and-twenty people attended service on a Sunday. The Princess's Arms was also there, and much resorted to by splendid footmen. A sedan chair was kept inside the railing before the Princess's Arms, but it had never come out within the memory of man; and on fine mornings, the top of every rail (there were eight-and-forty, as Miss Tox had often counted) was decorated with a pewter-pot.
There was another private house besides Miss Tox's in Princess's Place: not to mention an immense Pair of gates, with an immense pair of lion-headed knockers on them, which were never opened by any chance, and were supposed to constitute a disused entrance to somebody's stables. Indeed, there was a smack of stabling in the air of Princess's Place; and Miss Tox's bedroom (which was at the back) commanded a vista of Mews, where hostlers, at whatever sort of work engaged, were continually accompanying themselves with effervescent noises; and where the most domestic and confidential garments of coachmen and their wives and families, usually hung, like Macbeth's banners, on the outward walls.'
At this other private house in Princess's Place, tenanted by a retired butler who had married a housekeeper, apartments were let Furnished, to a single gentleman: to wit, a wooden-featured, blue-faced Major, with his eyes starting out of his head, in whom Miss Tox recognised, as she herself expressed it, 'something so truly military;' and between whom and herself, an occasional interchange of newspapers and pamphlets, and such Platonic dalliance, was effected through the medium of a dark servant of the Major's who Miss Tox was quite content to classify as a 'native,' without connecting him with any geographical idea whatever.
Perhaps there never was a smaller entry and staircase, than the entry and staircase of Miss Tox's house. Perhaps, taken altogether, from top to bottom, it was the most inconvenient little house in England, and the crookedest; but then, Miss Tox said, what a situation! There was very little daylight to be got there in the winter: no sun at the best of times: air was out of the question, and traffic was walled out. Still Miss Tox said, think of the situation! So said the blue-faced Major, whose eyes were starting out of his head: who gloried in Princess's Place: and who delighted to turn the conversation at his club, whenever he could, to something connected with some of the great people in the great street round the corner, that he might have the satisfaction of saying they were his neighbours.
In short, with Miss Tox and the blue-faced Major, it was enough for Princess's Place - as with a very small fragment of society, it is enough for many a little hanger-on of another sort - to be well connected, and to have genteel blood in its veins. It might be poor, mean, shabby, stupid, dull. No matter. The great street round the corner trailed off into Princess's Place; and that which of High Holborn would have become a choleric word, spoken of Princess's Place became flat blasphemy.
The dingy tenement inhabited by Miss Tox was her own; having been devised and bequeathed to her by the deceased owner of the fishy eye in the locket, of whom a miniature portrait, with a powdered head and a pigtail, balanced the kettle-holder on opposite sides of the parlour fireplace. The greater part of the furniture was of the powdered-head and pig-tail period: comprising a plate-warmer, always languishing and sprawling its four attenuated bow legs in somebody's way; and an obsolete harpsichord, illuminated round the maker's name with a painted garland of sweet peas. In any part of the house, visitors were usually cognizant of a prevailing mustiness; and in warm weather Miss Tox had been seen apparently writing in sundry chinks and crevices of the wainscoat with the the wrong end of a pen dipped in spirits of turpentine.
Although Major Bagstock had arrived at what is called in polite literature, the grand meridian of life, and was proceeding on his journey downhill with hardly any throat, and a very rigid pair of jaw-bones, and long-flapped elephantine ears, and his eyes and complexion in the state of artificial excitement already mentioned, he was mightily proud of awakening an interest in Miss Tox, and tickled his vanity with the fiction that she was a splendid woman who had her eye on him. This he had several times hinted at the club: in connexion with little jocularities, of which old Joe Bagstock, old Joey Bagstock, old J. Bagstock, old Josh Bagstock, or so forth, was the perpetual theme: it being, as it were, the Major's stronghold and donjon-keep of light humour, to be on the most familiar terms with his own name.
'Joey B., Sir,'the Major would say, with a flourish of his walking-stick, 'is worth a dozen of you. If you had a few more of the Bagstock breed among you, Sir, you'd be none the worse for it. Old Joe, Sir, needn't look far for a wile even now, if he was on the look-out; but he's hard-hearted, Sir, is Joe - he's tough, Sir, tough, and de-vilish sly!' After such a declaration, wheezing sounds would be heard; and the Major's blue would deepen into purple, while his eyes strained and started convulsively.
Notwithstanding his very liberal laudation of himself, however, the Major was selfish. It may be doubted whether there ever was a more entirely selfish person at heart; or at stomach is perhaps a better expression, seeing that he was more decidedly endowed with that latter organ than with the former. He had no idea of being overlooked or slighted by anybody; least of all, had he the remotest comprehension of being overlooked and slighted by Miss Tox.
And yet, Miss Tox, as it appeared, forgot him - gradually forgot him. She began to forget him soon after her discovery of the Toodle family. She continued to forget him up to the time of the christening. She went on forgetting him with compound interest after that. Something or somebody had superseded him as a source of interest.
'Good morning, Ma'am,' said the Major, meeting Miss Tox in Princess's Place, some weeks after the changes chronicled in the last chapter.
'Good morning, Sir,' said Miss Tox; very coldly.
'Joe Bagstock, Ma'am,' observed the Major, with his usual gallantry, 'has not had the happiness of bowing to you at your window, for a considerable period. Joe has been hardly used, Ma'am. His sun has been behind a cloud.'
Miss Tox inclined her head; but very coldly indeed.
'Joe's luminary has been out of town, Ma'am, perhaps,' inquired the Major.
'I? out of town? oh no, I have not been out of town,' said Miss Tox. 'I have been much engaged lately. My time is nearly all devoted to some very intimate friends. I am afraid I have none to spare, even now. Good morning, Sir!'
As Miss Tox, with her most fascinating step and carriage, disappeared from Princess's Place, the Major stood looking after her with a bluer face than ever: muttering and growling some not at all complimentary remarks.
'Why, damme, Sir,' said the Major, rolling his lobster eyes round and round Princess's Place, and apostrophizing its fragrant air, 'six months ago, the woman loved the ground Josh Bagstock walked on. What's the meaning of it?'
The Major decided, after some consideration, that it meant mantraps; that it meant plotting and snaring; that Miss Tox was digging pitfalls. 'But you won't catch Joe, Ma'am,' said the Major. 'He's tough, Ma'am, tough, is J.B. Tough, and de-vilish sly!' over which reflection he chuckled for the rest of the day.
But still, when that day and many other days were gone and past, it seemed that Miss Tox took no heed whatever of the Major, and thought nothing at all about him. She had been wont, once upon a time, to look out at one of her little dark windows by accident, and blushingly return the Major's greeting; but now, she never gave the Major a chance, and cared nothing at all whether he looked over the way or not. Other changes had come to pass too. The Major, standing in the shade of his own apartment, could make out that an air of greater smartness had recently come over Miss Tox's house; that a new cage with gilded wires had been provided for the ancient little canary bird; that divers ornaments, cut out of coloured card-boards and paper, seemed to decorate the chimney-piece and tables; that a plant or two had suddenly sprung up in the windows; that Miss Tox occasionally practised on the harpsichord, whose garland of sweet peas was always displayed ostentatiously, crowned with the Copenhagen and Bird Waltzes in a Music Book of Miss Tox's own copying.
Over and above all this, Miss Tox had long been dressed with uncommon care and elegance in slight mourning. But this helped the Major out of his difficulty; and be determined within himself that she had come into a small legacy, and grown proud.
It was on the very next day after he had eased his mind by arriving at this decision, that the Major, sitting at his breakfast, saw an apparition so tremendous and wonderful in Miss Tox's little drawing-room, that he remained for some time rooted to his chair; then, rushing into the next room, returned with a double-barrelled opera-glass, through which he surveyed it intently for some minutes.
'It's a Baby, Sir,' said the Major, shutting up the glass again, 'for fifty thousand pounds!'
The Major couldn't forget it. He could do nothing but whistle, and stare to that extent, that his eyes, compared with what they now became, had been in former times quite cavernous and sunken. Day after day, two, three, four times a week, this Baby reappeared. The Major continued to stare and whistle. To all other intents and purposes he was alone in Princess's Place. Miss Tox had ceased to mind what he did. He might have been black as well as blue, and it would have been of no consequence to her.
The perseverance with which she walked out of Princess's Place to fetch this baby and its nurse, and walked back with them, and walked home with them again, and continually mounted guard over them; and the perseverance with which she nursed it herself, and fed it, and played with it, and froze its young blood with airs upon the harpsichord, was extraordinary. At about this same period too, she was seized with a passion for looking at a certain bracelet; also with a passion for looking at the moon, of which she would take long observations from her chamber window. But whatever she looked at; sun, moon, stars, or bracelet; she looked no more at the Major. And the Major whistled, and stared, and wondered, and dodged about his room, and could make nothing of it.
'You'll quite win my brother Paul's heart, and that's the truth, my dear,' said Mrs Chick, one day.
Miss Tox turned pale.
'He grows more like Paul every day,' said Mrs Chick.
Miss Tox returned no other reply than by taking the little Paul in her arms, and making his cockade perfectly flat and limp with her caresses.
'His mother, my dear,' said Miss Tox, 'whose acquaintance I was to have made through you, does he at all resemble her?'
'Not at all,' returned Louisa
'She was - she was pretty, I believe?' faltered Miss Tox.
'Why, poor dear Fanny was interesting,' said Mrs Chick, after some judicial consideration. 'Certainly interesting. She had not that air of commanding superiority which one would somehow expect, almost as a matter of course, to find in my brother's wife; nor had she that strength and vigour of mind which such a man requires.'
Miss Tox heaved a deep sigh.
'But she was pleasing:' said Mrs Chick: 'extremely so. And she meant! - oh, dear, how well poor Fanny meant!'
'You Angel!' cried Miss Tox to little Paul. 'You Picture of your own Papa!'
If the Major could have known how many hopes and ventures, what a multitude of plans and speculations, rested on that baby head; and could have seen them hovering, in all their heterogeneous confusion and disorder, round the puckered cap of the unconscious little Paul; he might have stared indeed. Then would he have recognised, among the crowd, some few ambitious motes and beams belonging to Miss Tox; then would he perhaps have understood the nature of that lady's faltering investment in the Dombey Firm.
If the child himself could have awakened in the night, and seen, gathered about his cradle-curtains, faint reflections of the dreams that other people had of him, they might have scared him, with good reason. But he slumbered on, alike unconscious of the kind intentions of Miss Tox, the wonder of the Major, the early sorrows of his sister, and the stern visions of his father; and innocent that any spot of earth contained a Dombey or a Son.
 
托克斯小姐居住在一座黑暗的小房屋里，这座房屋在英国历史中某一个遥远的时期被挤进这个城市西端的一个豪华的地区。它在那里像一个穷亲戚一样，座落在从拐角通出去的那条大街的阴影之中，被一座座宏伟的邸宅冷漠地藐视着。它实际上不是在一个院子里，也不是在一个围场中，而是在通衢大道之外的一个最萧条的地方，远处传来接二连三的敲门声都会使这里胆战心惊，惶惶不安。这个偏僻的地方称为公主广场，它的铺石路缝中长出了青草；在公主广场中有一个小的公主教堂，钟声从那里当当地传出；星期天到那里去参加祈祷仪式的有时达二十五人之多。那里还有公主纹章，优秀的步兵常去参观。在公主纹章前面的围栏内放着一顶轿子，可是据人们记忆，从来没有被抬出到外面来过；在天气晴朗的上午，在围栏上面每一条横木的顶上摆着一个白镴壶，作为装饰；横木总共四十八条，因为托克斯小姐常常数它们。
除了托克斯小姐的房屋外，公主广场上还有另一座私人房屋；不用说，它也有两扇很大的门，门上也有一对很大的狮子头形状的门环；这门从来不曾在什么情况下开过，人们猜想，它是一个通向什么人的马厩的废弃不用的入口。确实，在公主广场的空气中是可以闻到马厩的气味的。从托克斯小姐的卧室（它在房屋的后面）望出去，可以望到马店的外景；马夫们在那里不论从事哪一种工作，总是连续不断地发出兴奋的吆喝来伴随自己。马车夫和他们老婆、孩子的最适合家里穿着和最隐蔽的衣裤通常都像麦克佩斯的旗帜一样，悬挂在外面的墙上①。公主广场的这另一座房屋由一位过去当过男管家、现已退休、并已与一位女管家结婚的男子承租；他把一些带家具的房间转租给一位单身的绅士，也就是说，一位面孔像木头一样没有表情，脸色发青的陆军少校；他的眼睛从脸上鼓出，托克斯小姐对这一点表示赏识，她本人曾说它“有些真正的军人气概”。他和她之间偶尔交换交换报纸和小册子，这种柏拉图式的互通款曲②是通过少校的一位黑肤色的仆人作为中间媒介来实现的，托克斯小姐甘心乐意地把这位仆人划为“本地人”，而并没有把他与任何地理概念相联系。
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①见莎士比亚著名悲剧《麦克佩斯》第五幕第五场：
麦克佩斯：“把我们的旗帜挂在城墙外面；……我们这座城堡防御得这样坚强，还怕他们围攻吗？……”
②指精神恋爱。
也许，从来没有比托克斯小姐家的穿堂与楼梯更小的穿堂与楼梯了。也许，从上到下，总的来说，它是英国最不舒适的小房屋，也是形状最歪歪扭扭的。但是这时托克斯小姐就会说，它坐落在一个什么地方呵！冬天屋子里很少有亮光；在一年最好的时光中也见不到太阳；空气是根本谈不上的；街道交通也是不用提了。但是托克斯小姐仍然会说，想一想它是坐落在什么地方呵！脸色发青、眼睛从脸上鼓出的少校也是这么说的；他对公主广场感到自豪；他在俱乐部里，不论什么时候，只要可能，就高兴把谈话转到与住在通过拐角的大街上的大人物有关的一些事情上；他会得意洋洋地说，他们是他的邻居。
托克斯小姐所住的这座黑暗的房屋是她自己的房屋；这是她的小金盒中的那颗没有光泽的眼睛的已故的主人立了遗嘱，赠送给她的；他有一幅头上撒了粉、留着辫子的小小的肖像画，如今已成为与壁炉架另一端上面的水壶支架保持平衡的物品。大部分家具都是男人们头上撒粉和留辫子时期的家具，包括一个饭菜加温器，它经常疲劳无力，伸开四条细弱的罗圈腿，挡住人们的道路；还有一个已陈旧过时的大键琴，琴上制造者的姓名周围画着一环香豌豆，作为装饰。
虽然白格斯托克少校已经到达纯文学中所称的盛壮之年，现正走着下坡路；他几乎没有脖子，颚骨十分坚硬，象一般的长耳朵下垂着，眼睛与脸色呈现出一种前面已经叙述过的不自然的兴奋状态，然而他却以在托克斯小姐心中唤醒了对他的兴趣而十分自豪，而且假想她是一位有意于他的出色的女人，这样来满足自己的虚荣心。他在俱乐部里讲一些小小的笑话时好几次暗示了这一点。在他的笑话中，老乔•白格斯托克，老乔埃•白格斯托克，老约•白格斯托克，老乔希•白格斯托克，等等，是个永恒不变的主题，仿佛少校的幽默的要塞与主塔与他自己的姓名有着最亲昵的关系。
“先生，”少校会挥舞一下他的手杖，说道，“乔埃•白抵得上你们十几个人。如果你们当中再多几个白格斯托克血统的人的话，先生，那么你们就决不会比现在更坏。先生，老乔埃如果要找老婆的话，哪怕就是现在去我，那么他并不需要走多远就能找到一个。可是他是个铁石心肠的人，先生，乔是这样的人——他坚强不屈，先生，坚强不屈，而且像魔鬼一样狡猾！”在这样的声明之后，可以听到呼哧呼哧喘气的声音，少校的脸也会从青色转变为更深的紫色，他的眼睛则会痉挛性地睁大、鼓出。
不论少校自吹自擂，吹得如何天花乱坠，但他却是自私的。世界上是否有过比他内心更完全自私的人，这是可以怀疑的；也许不说心而说胃，是个更好的说法，因为大自然赋予他的后一个器官显然要比前一个器官强得多。他从没有想到他会被什么人忽视或轻视，更决不可能会被托克斯小姐忽视或轻视。
然而，托克斯小姐看来已把他忘记了——逐渐地把他忘记了。在她发现了图德尔家庭之后不久，她就开始把他忘记了。她继续把他忘记，直到施洗礼的时候。在那以后，她又进一步加倍迅速地把他忘记。什么事情或什么人已代替他成为她兴趣的源泉。
“早上好，夫人，”在上一章记载的变化发生了几个星期之后，少校在公主广场遇到托克斯小姐时说道。
“早上好，先生，”托克斯小姐很冷淡地说道。
“夫人，”少校以他通常的殷勤态度说道，“乔•白格斯托克少校已有好长的一段时间未能有幸在您的窗口向您向候致意了。夫人，乔受到了苛刻的对待。他的太阳已经躲藏到一朵云的后面去了。”
托克斯小姐歪斜着头，但确实很冷淡。
“照耀乔的星球也许到城外去了吗，夫人？”少校问道。
“您是说我吗？到城外去了吗？噢，不，我没有到到城外去，”托克斯小姐说道。“我最近很忙。我的时间几乎全都花在几个最亲密的朋友身上了。我只怕甚至连现在也一点时间都抽不出来了。早上好，先生！”
当托克斯小姐随着她那极为迷人的步子和体态从公主广场消失不见的时候，少校站在那里目送着她，脸色比过去任何时候更为发青，同时咕哝着，怒气冲冲地说着一些决不是恭维的话。
“哼，她妈的，先生，”少校向公主广场转动着他的龙虾眼，转了一圈又一圈，并向着它的芳香的空气说道，“六个月以前，这女人喜爱乔•白格斯托克走过的土地。这是什么意思？”少校经过稍稍思考之后，断定它的意思是要诱捕男人；它的意思是策划阴谋，安设圈套；托克斯小姐正在挖掘陷阱。
“可是您捕捉不到乔，夫人，”少校说道，“他是坚强不屈的，夫人，坚强不屈的正就是约•白。坚强不屈，而且像魔鬼一样的狡猾！”他发表了这些感想之后，就吃吃地笑了一整天。
可是那一天和其他许多天都过去了，托克斯小姐似乎仍旧对少校丝毫也不注意，也丝毫没有想到他。从前，她习惯偶尔从她黑暗的小窗口往外看看，然后满脸羞得通红地回答一下少校的问候；可是现在她决不给少校一个机会，丝毫也不理会他是否在看下面的道路。另外的一些变化也发生了。少校站在他自己房间的阴影中，能够隐约地看出，托克斯小姐的房间中最近呈现出一派远比过去漂亮的景象；那只老的金丝雀被装进一只新的金丝鸟笼里；从彩色的硬纸板和纸张中剪出的一些玩艺儿似乎已把壁炉架和桌子装饰一新；一两株植物突然出现在窗口；托克斯小姐偶尔在练习弹奏大键琴，它的那一环甜豌豆总是被得意洋洋地炫示着；琴上摆着托克斯小姐亲自抄写在乐谱中的哥本哈根圆舞曲和鸟儿圆舞曲。
除了这一切之外，托克斯小姐好久以来就非常细心和雅致地穿了一身轻丧服。不过这一点帮助少校走出了困境；他心中断定，她已继承了一小笔遗产，因而趾高气扬起来了。
少校作出这个判断，安下心来以后的第二天，正坐着吃早餐时，看到托克斯小姐的小客厅里出现了一个鬼怪，他是那么惊人，那么奇异，因此他坐在椅子里一直坐了好一会儿，然后才急忙跑到旁边的房间，拿了一个双筒的看戏用的小望远镜回来；他通过望远镜专心致志地察看了好几分钟。
“这是个婴孩，先生，”少校把望远镜重新关上，说道，“我敢拿五万五千镑打赌！”
少校不能忘记这件事情。他除了吹口哨和把眼睛瞪得鼓鼓的之外，什么也干不了；如果跟他现在的眼睛相比，他以前的眼睛就显得相当凹陷和低洼了。一天又一天，这个婴孩在一个星期之内重新出现了两次、三次、四次。少校继续瞪眼睛和吹口哨。不论从哪一点来看，他在公主广场上已是孤身一人了。托克斯小姐已不再关心他做什么了。如果他的脸色从青色转变为黑色，那对她也是一件无关紧要的事情。
她坚持不断地走出公主广场，去领这个婴孩和他的保姆，和他们一起走回来，又和他们走回家去；而且经常看守着他们；她坚持不断地亲自照料孩子，喂他吃东西，和他玩耍，在大键琴上弹出曲调使他年轻的血液凝结；这种坚持不断、始终如一的精神是异乎寻常的。大约就在这同一时期中，她满怀深情地看某一个手镯；她也满怀深情地看月亮，会从她房间的窗口长久地观望着它。但是不论她看什么，看太阳也好，看月亮也好，看星星或看手镯也好，她却不再看少校了。少校吹着口哨，瞪着眼睛，心中纳闷，在房间里转来转去，但却什么也弄不明白。
“您将会赢得我哥哥保罗的心，这是真的，我亲爱的，”奇克夫人有一天说道。
托克斯小姐脸色变得苍白。
“他一天天长得愈来愈像保罗了，”奇克夫人说道。
托克斯小姐没有回答，只是把小保罗抱在怀中，抚摸着他帽上的花结，使它完全平展、柔软。
“他像他的母亲吗？”托克斯小姐问道，“我亲爱的，我得通过您才能了解她呀。”
“一点也不像，”路易莎回答道。
“她——她长得漂亮吧。我想？”托克斯小姐迟疑地说道。
“是的，可怜的亲爱的范妮是有趣的，”奇克夫人经过一些慎重的考虑以后说道。“确实是有趣的。人们不知怎么样，几乎理所当然地本指望会在我的哥哥的妻子身上看到那种威风凛凛、高人一等的气派，可是她并没有这种气派。她也没有这样一位男人所需要的那种精力与气魄。”
托克斯小姐深深地叹了一口气。
“不过她是讨人喜欢的，”奇克夫人说道，“非常讨人喜欢。还有她的心眼儿！——啊，亲爱的，可怜的范妮心眼儿多么好啊！”
“您这小天使！”托克斯小姐对小保罗喊道，“您跟您爸爸真是长得一模一样啊！”
如果少校能知道，在那婴孩的头上寄托了多少希望与梦想，多少计划与打算的话，如果他能看到它们参差错乱、混杂无序地在一无所知的小保罗的带褶的帽子四周盘旋的话，那么他确实可能会把眼睛瞪得大大地来看的。那时候他就会从那成群的事物中辨认出属于托克斯小姐的一些野心勃勃的尘埃与光束了；那时候他也许就会明白那位女士畏畏缩缩地对董贝公司进行投资的性质了。
如果这孩子本人能在夜间醒过来，看到聚集在他的摇篮帐子周围、其他人们对他所抱的梦想的微弱的映像的话，那么它们很有理由会把他吓坏了。可是他却继续呼呼地酣睡，对托克斯小姐的善良的意图，少校的纳闷不解，他姐姐过早的悲哀和他父亲严峻的梦幻，都一概不知；他也不了解在地面上的什么地方还存在着一位董贝或一个他的儿子。
Chapter 8
Paul's Further Progress, Growth and Character
Beneath the watching and attentive eyes of Time - so far another Major - Paul's slumbers gradually changed. More and more light broke in upon them; distincter and distincter dreams disturbed them; an accumulating crowd of objects and impressions swarmed about his rest; and so he passed from babyhood to childhood, and became a talking, walking, wondering Dombey.
On the downfall and banishment of Richards, the nursery may be said to have been put into commission: as a Public Department is sometimes, when no individual Atlas can be found to support it The Commissioners were, of course, Mrs Chick and Miss Tox: who devoted themselves to their duties with such astonishing ardour that Major Bagstock had every day some new reminder of his being forsaken, while Mr Chick, bereft of domestic supervision, cast himself upon the gay world, dined at clubs and coffee-houses, smelt of smoke on three different occasions, went to the play by himself, and in short, loosened (as Mrs Chick once told him) every social bond, and moral obligation.
Yet, in spite of his early promise, all this vigilance and care could not make little Paul a thriving boy. Naturally delicate, perhaps, he pined and wasted after the dismissal of his nurse, and, for a long time, seemed but to wait his opportunity of gliding through their hands, and seeking his lost mother. This dangerous ground in his steeple-chase towards manhood passed, he still found it very rough riding, and was grievously beset by all the obstacles in his course. Every tooth was a break-neck fence, and every pimple in the measles a stone wall to him. He was down in every fit of the hooping-cough, and rolled upon and crushed by a whole field of small diseases, that came trooping on each other's heels to prevent his getting up again. Some bird of prey got into his throat instead of the thrush; and the very chickens turning ferocious - if they have anything to do with that infant malady to which they lend their name - worried him like tiger-cats.
The chill of Paul's christening had struck home, perhaps to some sensitive part of his nature, which could not recover itself in the cold shade of his father; but he was an unfortunate child from that day. Mrs Wickam often said she never see a dear so put upon.
Mrs Wickam was a waiter's wife - which would seem equivalent to being any other man's widow - whose application for an engagement in Mr Dombey's service had been favourably considered, on account of the apparent impossibility of her having any followers, or anyone to follow; and who, from within a day or two of Paul's sharp weaning, had been engaged as his nurse. Mrs Wickam was a meek woman, of a fair complexion, with her eyebrows always elevated, and her head always drooping; who was always ready to pity herself, or to be pitied, or to pity anybody else; and who had a surprising natural gift of viewing all subjects in an utterly forlorn and pitiable light, and bringing dreadful precedents to bear upon them, and deriving the greatest consolation from the exercise of that talent.
It is hardly necessary to observe, that no touch of this quality ever reached the magnificent knowledge of Mr Dombey. It would have been remarkable, indeed, if any had; when no one in the house - not even Mrs Chick or Miss Tox - dared ever whisper to him that there had, on any one occasion, been the least reason for uneasiness in reference to little Paul. He had settled, within himself, that the child must necessarily pass through a certain routine of minor maladies, and that the sooner he did so the better. If he could have bought him off, or provided a substitute, as in the case of an unlucky drawing for the militia, he would have been glad to do so, on liberal terms. But as this was not feasible, he merely wondered, in his haughty-manner, now and then, what Nature meant by it; and comforted himself with the reflection that there was another milestone passed upon the road, and that the great end of the journey lay so much the nearer. For the feeling uppermost in his mind, now and constantly intensifying, and increasing in it as Paul grew older, was impatience. Impatience for the time to come, when his visions of their united consequence and grandeur would be triumphantly realized.
Some philosophers tell us that selfishness is at the root of our best loves and affections.' Mr Dombey's young child was, from the beginning, so distinctly important to him as a part of his own greatness, or (which is the same thing) of the greatness of Dombey and Son, that there is no doubt his parental affection might have been easily traced, like many a goodly superstructure of fair fame, to a very low foundation. But he loved his son with all the love he had. If there were a warm place in his frosty heart, his son occupied it; if its very hard surface could receive the impression of any image, the image of that son was there; though not so much as an infant, or as a boy, but as a grown man - the 'Son' of the Firm. Therefore he was impatient to advance into the future, and to hurry over the intervening passages of his history. Therefore he had little or no anxiety' about them, in spite of his love; feeling as if the boy had a charmed life, and must become the man with whom he held such constant communication in his thoughts, and for whom he planned and projected, as for an existing reality, every day.
Thus Paul grew to be nearly five years old. He was a pretty little fellow; though there was something wan and wistful in his small face, that gave occasion to many significant shakes of Mrs Wickam's head, and many long-drawn inspirations of Mrs Wickam's breath. His temper gave abundant promise of being imperious in after-life; and he had as hopeful an apprehension of his own importance, and the rightful subservience of all other things and persons to it, as heart could desire. He was childish and sportive enough at times, and not of a sullen disposition; but he had a strange, old-fashioned, thoughtful way, at other times, of sitting brooding in his miniature arm-chair, when he looked (and talked) like one of those terrible little Beings in the Fairy tales, who, at a hundred and fifty or two hundred years of age, fantastically represent the children for whom they have been substituted. He would frequently be stricken with this precocious mood upstairs in the nursery; and would sometimes lapse into it suddenly, exclaiming that he was tired: even while playing with Florence, or driving Miss Tox in single harness. But at no time did he fall into it so surely, as when, his little chair being carried down into his father's room, he sat there with him after dinner, by the fire. They were the strangest pair at such a time that ever firelight shone upon. Mr Dombey so erect and solemn, gazing at the blare; his little image, with an old, old face, peering into the red perspective with the fixed and rapt attention of a sage. Mr Dombey entertaining complicated worldly schemes and plans; the little image entertaining Heaven knows what wild fancies, half-formed thoughts, and wandering speculations. Mr Dombey stiff with starch and arrogance; the little image by inheritance, and in unconscious imitation. The two so very much alike, and yet so monstrously contrasted.
On one of these occasions, when they had both been perfectly quiet for a long time, and Mr Dombey only knew that the child was awake by occasionally glancing at his eye, where the bright fire was sparkling like a jewel, little Paul broke silence thus:
'Papa! what's money?'
The abrupt question had such immediate reference to the subject of Mr Dombey's thoughts, that Mr Dombey was quite disconcerted.
'What is money, Paul?' he answered. 'Money?'
'Yes,' said the child, laying his hands upon the elbows of his little chair, and turning the old face up towards Mr Dombey's; 'what is money?'
Mr Dombey was in a difficulty. He would have liked to give him some explanation involving the terms circulating-medium, currency, depreciation of currency', paper, bullion, rates of exchange, value of precious metals in the market, and so forth; but looking down at the little chair, and seeing what a long way down it was, he answered: 'Gold, and silver, and copper. Guineas, shillings, half-pence. You know what they are?'
'Oh yes, I know what they are,' said Paul. 'I don't mean that, Papa. I mean what's money after all?'
Heaven and Earth, how old his face was as he turned it up again towards his father's!
'What is money after all!' said Mr Dombey, backing his chair a little, that he might the better gaze in sheer amazement at the presumptuous atom that propounded such an inquiry.
'I mean, Papa, what can it do?' returned Paul, folding his arms (they were hardly long enough to fold), and looking at the fire, and up at him, and at the fire, and up at him again.
Mr Dombey drew his chair back to its former place, and patted him on the head. 'You'll know better by-and-by, my man,' he said. 'Money, Paul, can do anything.' He took hold of the little hand, and beat it softly against one of his own, as he said so.
But Paul got his hand free as soon as he could; and rubbing it gently to and fro on the elbow of his chair, as if his wit were in the palm, and he were sharpening it - and looking at the fire again, as though the fire had been his adviser and prompter - repeated, after a short pause:
'Anything, Papa?'
'Yes. Anything - almost,' said Mr Dombey.
'Anything means everything, don't it, Papa?' asked his son: not observing, or possibly not understanding, the qualification.
'It includes it: yes,' said Mr Dombey.
'Why didn't money save me my Mama?' returned the child. 'It isn't cruel, is it?'
'Cruel!' said Mr Dombey, settling his neckcloth, and seeming to resent the idea. 'No. A good thing can't be cruel.'
'If it's a good thing, and can do anything,' said the little fellow, thoughtfully, as he looked back at the fire, 'I wonder why it didn't save me my Mama.'
He didn't ask the question of his father this time. Perhaps he had seen, with a child's quickness, that it had already made his father uncomfortable. But he repeated the thought aloud, as if it were quite an old one to him, and had troubled him very much; and sat with his chin resting on his hand, still cogitating and looking for an explanation in the fire.
Mr Dombey having recovered from his surprise, not to say his alarm (for it was the very first occasion on which the child had ever broached the subject of his mother to him, though he had had him sitting by his side, in this same manner, evening after evening), expounded to him how that money, though a very potent spirit, never to be disparaged on any account whatever, could not keep people alive whose time was come to die; and how that we must all die, unfortunately, even in the City, though we were never so rich. But how that money caused us to be honoured, feared, respected, courted, and admired, and made us powerful and glorious in the eyes of all men; and how that it could, very often, even keep off death, for a long time together. How, for example, it had secured to his Mama the services of Mr Pilkins, by which be, Paul, had often profited himself; likewise of the great Doctor Parker Peps, whom he had never known. And how it could do all, that could be done. This, with more to the same purpose, Mr Dombey instilled into the mind of his son, who listened attentively, and seemed to understand the greater part of what was said to him.
'It can't make me strong and quite well, either, Papa; can it?' asked Paul, after a short silence; rubbing his tiny hands.
'Why, you are strong and quite well,' returned Mr Dombey. 'Are you not?'
Oh! the age of the face that was turned up again, with an expression, half of melancholy, half of slyness, on it!
'You are as strong and well as such little people usually are? Eh?' said Mr Dombey.
'Florence is older than I am, but I'm not as strong and well as Florence, 'I know,' returned the child; 'and I believe that when Florence was as little as me, she could play a great deal longer at a time without tiring herself. I am so tired sometimes,' said little Paul, warming his hands, and looking in between the bars of the grate, as if some ghostly puppet-show were performing there, 'and my bones ache so (Wickam says it's my bones), that I don't know what to do.'
'Ay! But that's at night,' said Mr Dombey, drawing his own chair closer to his son's, and laying his hand gently on his back; 'little people should be tired at night, for then they sleep well.'
'Oh, it's not at night, Papa,' returned the child, 'it's in the day; and I lie down in Florence's lap, and she sings to me. At night I dream about such cu-ri-ous things!'
And he went on, warming his hands again, and thinking about them, like an old man or a young goblin.
Mr Dombey was so astonished, and so uncomfortable, and so perfectly at a loss how to pursue the conversation, that he could only sit looking at his son by the light of the fire, with his hand resting on his back, as if it were detained there by some magnetic attraction. Once he advanced his other hand, and turned the contemplative face towards his own for a moment. But it sought the fire again as soon as he released it; and remained, addressed towards the flickering blaze, until the nurse appeared, to summon him to bed.
'I want Florence to come for me,' said Paul.
'Won't you come with your poor Nurse Wickam, Master Paul?' inquired that attendant, with great pathos.
'No, I won't,' replied Paul, composing himself in his arm-chair again, like the master of the house.
Invoking a blessing upon his innocence, Mrs Wickam withdrew, and presently Florence appeared in her stead. The child immediately started up with sudden readiness and animation, and raised towards his father in bidding him good-night, a countenance so much brighter, so much younger, and so much more child-like altogether, that Mr Dombey, while he felt greatly reassured by the change, was quite amazed at it.
After they had left the room together, he thought he heard a soft voice singing; and remembering that Paul had said his sister sung to him, he had the curiosity to open the door and listen, and look after them. She was toiling up the great, wide, vacant staircase, with him in her arms; his head was lying on her shoulder, one of his arms thrown negligently round her neck. So they went, toiling up; she singing all the way, and Paul sometimes crooning out a feeble accompaniment. Mr Dombey looked after them until they reached the top of the staircase - not without halting to rest by the way - and passed out of his sight; and then he still stood gazing upwards, until the dull rays of the moon, glimmering in a melancholy manner through the dim skylight, sent him back to his room.
Mrs Chick and Miss Tox were convoked in council at dinner next day; and when the cloth was removed, Mr Dombey opened the proceedings by requiring to be informed, without any gloss or reservation, whether there was anything the matter with Paul, and what Mr Pilkins said about him.
'For the child is hardly,' said Mr Dombey, 'as stout as I could wish.'
'My dear Paul,' returned Mrs Chick, 'with your usual happy discrimination, which I am weak enough to envy you, every time I am in your company; and so I think is Miss Tox
'Oh my dear!' said Miss Tox, softly, 'how could it be otherwise? Presumptuous as it is to aspire to such a level; still, if the bird of night may - but I'll not trouble Mr Dombey with the sentiment. It merely relates to the Bulbul.'
Mr Dombey bent his head in stately recognition of the Bulbuls as an old-established body.
'With your usual happy discrimination, my dear Paul,' resumed Mrs Chick, 'you have hit the point at once. Our darling is altogether as stout as we could wish. The fact is, that his mind is too much for him. His soul is a great deal too large for his frame. I am sure the way in which that dear child talks!'said Mrs Chick, shaking her head; 'no one would believe. His expressions, Lucretia, only yesterday upon the subject of Funerals!
'I am afraid,' said Mr Dombey, interrupting her testily, 'that some of those persons upstairs suggest improper subjects to the child. He was speaking to me last night about his - about his Bones,' said Mr Dombey, laying an irritated stress upon the word. 'What on earth has anybody to do with the - with the - Bones of my son? He is not a living skeleton, I suppose.
'Very far from it,' said Mrs Chick, with unspeakable expression.
'I hope so,' returned her brother. 'Funerals again! who talks to the child of funerals? We are not undertakers, or mutes, or grave-diggers, I believe.'
'Very far from it,' interposed Mrs Chick, with the same profound expression as before.
'Then who puts such things into his head?' said Mr Dombey. 'Really I was quite dismayed and shocked last night. Who puts such things into his head, Louisa?'
'My dear Paul,' said Mrs Chick, after a moment's silence, 'it is of no use inquiring. I do not think, I will tell you candidly that Wickam is a person of very cheerful spirit, or what one would call a - '
'A daughter of Momus,' Miss Tox softly suggested.
'Exactly so,' said Mrs Chick; 'but she is exceedingly attentive and useful, and not at all presumptuous; indeed I never saw a more biddable woman. I would say that for her, if I was put upon my trial before a Court of Justice.'
'Well! you are not put upon your trial before a Court of Justice, at present, Louisa,' returned Mr Dombey, chafing,' and therefore it don't matter.
'My dear Paul,' said Mrs Chick, in a warning voice, 'I must be spoken to kindly, or there is an end of me,' at the same time a premonitory redness developed itself in Mrs Chick's eyelids which was an invariable sign of rain, unless the weather changed directly.
'I was inquiring, Louisa,' observed Mr Dombey, in an altered voice, and after a decent interval, 'about Paul's health and actual state.
'If the dear child,' said Mrs Chick, in the tone of one who was summing up what had been previously quite agreed upon, instead of saying it all for the first time, 'is a little weakened by that last attack, and is not in quite such vigorous health as we could wish; and if he has some temporary weakness in his system, and does occasionally seem about to lose, for the moment, the use of his - '
Mrs Chick was afraid to say limbs, after Mr Dombey's recent objection to bones, and therefore waited for a suggestion from Miss Tox, who, true to her office, hazarded 'members.'
'Members!' repeated Mr Dombey.
'I think the medical gentleman mentioned legs this morning, my dear Louisa, did he not?' said Miss Tox.
'Why, of course he did, my love,' retorted Mrs Chick, mildly reproachful. 'How can you ask me? You heard him. I say, if our dear Paul should lose, for the moment, the use of his legs, these are casualties common to many children at his time of life, and not to be prevented by any care or caution. The sooner you understand that, Paul, and admit that, the better. If you have any doubt as to the amount of care, and caution, and affection, and self-sacrifice, that has been bestowed upon little Paul, I should wish to refer the question to your medical attendant, or to any of your dependants in this house. Call Towlinson,' said Mrs Chick, 'I believe he has no prejudice in our favour; quite the contrary. I should wish to hear what accusation Towlinson can make!'
'Surely you must know, Louisa,' observed Mr Dombey, 'that I don't question your natural devotion to, and regard for, the future head of my house.'
'I am glad to hear it, Paul,' said Mrs Chick; 'but really you are very odd, and sometimes talk very strangely, though without meaning it, I know. If your dear boy's soul is too much for his body, Paul, you should remember whose fault that is - who he takes after, I mean - and make the best of it. He's as like his Papa as he can be. People have noticed it in the streets. The very beadle, I am informed, observed it, so long ago as at his christening. He's a very respectable man, with children of his own. He ought to know.'
'Mr Pilkins saw Paul this morning, I believe?' said Mr Dombey.
'Yes, he did,' returned his sister. 'Miss Tox and myself were present. Miss Tox and myself are always present. We make a point of it. Mr Pilkins has seen him for some days past, and a very clever man I believe him to be. He says it is nothing to speak of; which I can confirm, if that is any consolation; but he recommended, to-day, sea-air. Very wisely, Paul, I feel convinced.'
'Sea-air,' repeated Mr Dombey, looking at his sister.
'There is nothing to be made uneasy by, in that,'said Mrs Chick. 'My George and Frederick were both ordered sea-air, when they were about his age; and I have been ordered it myself a great many times. I quite agree with you, Paul, that perhaps topics may be incautiously mentioned upstairs before him, which it would be as well for his little mind not to expatiate upon; but I really don't see how that is to be helped, in the case of a child of his quickness. If he were a common child, there would be nothing in it. I must say I think, with Miss Tox, that a short absence from this house, the air of Brighton, and the bodily and mental training of so judicious a person as Mrs Pipchin for instance - '
'Who is Mrs Pipchin, Louisa?' asked Mr Dombey; aghast at this familiar introduction of a name he had never heard before.
'Mrs Pipchin, my dear Paul,' returned his sister, 'is an elderly lady - Miss Tox knows her whole history - who has for some time devoted all the energies of her mind, with the greatest success, to the study and treatment of infancy, and who has been extremely well connected. Her husband broke his heart in - how did you say her husband broke his heart, my dear? I forget the precise circumstances.
'In pumping water out of the Peruvian Mines,' replied Miss Tox.
'Not being a Pumper himself, of course,' said Mrs Chick, glancing at her brother; and it really did seem necessary to offer the explanation, for Miss Tox had spoken of him as if he had died at the handle; 'but having invested money in the speculation, which failed. I believe that Mrs Pipchin's management of children is quite astonishing. I have heard it commended in private circles ever since I was - dear me - how high!' Mrs Chick's eye wandered about the bookcase near the bust of Mr Pitt, which was about ten feet from the ground.
'Perhaps I should say of Mrs Pipchin, my dear Sir,' observed Miss Tox, with an ingenuous blush, 'having been so pointedly referred to, that the encomium which has been passed upon her by your sweet sister is well merited. Many ladies and gentleman, now grown up to be interesting members of society, have been indebted to her care. The humble individual who addresses you was once under her charge. I believe juvenile nobility itself is no stranger to her establishment.'
'Do I understand that this respectable matron keeps an establishment, Miss Tox?' the Mr Dombey, condescendingly.
'Why, I really don't know,' rejoined that lady, 'whether I am justified in calling it so. It is not a Preparatory School by any means. Should I express my meaning,' said Miss Tox, with peculiar sweetness,'if I designated it an infantine Boarding-House of a very select description?'
'On an exceedingly limited and particular scale,' suggested Mrs Chick, with a glance at her brother.
'Oh! Exclusion itself!' said Miss Tox.
There was something in this. Mrs Pipchin's husband having broken his heart of the Peruvian mines was good. It had a rich sound. Besides, Mr Dombey was in a state almost amounting to consternation at the idea of Paul remaining where he was one hour after his removal had been recommended by the medical practitioner. It was a stoppage and delay upon the road the child must traverse, slowly at the best, before the goal was reached. Their recommendation of Mrs Pipchin had great weight with him; for he knew that they were jealous of any interference with their charge, and he never for a moment took it into account that they might be solicitous to divide a responsibility, of which he had, as shown just now, his own established views. Broke his heart of the Peruvian mines, mused Mr Dombey. Well! a very respectable way of doing It.
'Supposing we should decide, on to-morrow's inquiries, to send Paul down to Brighton to this lady, who would go with him?' inquired Mr Dombey, after some reflection.
'I don't think you could send the child anywhere at present without Florence, my dear Paul,' returned his sister, hesitating. 'It's quite an infatuation with him. He's very young, you know, and has his fancies.'
Mr Dombey turned his head away, and going slowly to the bookcase, and unlocking it, brought back a book to read.
'Anybody else, Louisa?' he said, without looking up, and turning over the leaves.
'Wickam, of course. Wickam would be quite sufficient, I should say,' returned his sister. 'Paul being in such hands as Mrs Pipchin's, you could hardly send anybody who would be a further check upon her. You would go down yourself once a week at least, of course.'
'Of course,' said Mr Dombey; and sat looking at one page for an hour afterwards, without reading one word.
This celebrated Mrs Pipchin was a marvellous ill-favoured, ill-conditioned old lady, of a stooping figure, with a mottled face, like bad marble, a hook nose, and a hard grey eye, that looked as if it might have been hammered at on an anvil without sustaining any injury. Forty years at least had elapsed since the Peruvian mines had been the death of Mr Pipchin; but his relict still wore black bombazeen, of such a lustreless, deep, dead, sombre shade, that gas itself couldn't light her up after dark, and her presence was a quencher to any number of candles. She was generally spoken of as 'a great manager' of children; and the secret of her management was, to give them everything that they didn't like, and nothing that they did - which was found to sweeten their dispositions very much. She was such a bitter old lady, that one was tempted to believe there had been some mistake in the application of the Peruvian machinery, and that all her waters of gladness and milk of human kindness, had been pumped out dry, instead of the mines.
The Castle of this ogress and child-queller was in a steep by-street at Brighton; where the soil was more than usually chalky, flinty, and sterile, and the houses were more than usually brittle and thin; where the small front-gardens had the unaccountable property of producing nothing but marigolds, whatever was sown in them; and where snails were constantly discovered holding on to the street doors, and other public places they were not expected to ornament, with the tenacity of cupping-glasses. In the winter time the air couldn't be got out of the Castle, and in the summer time it couldn't be got in. There was such a continual reverberation of wind in it, that it sounded like a great shell, which the inhabitants were obliged to hold to their ears night and day, whether they liked it or no. It was not, naturally, a fresh-smelling house; and in the window of the front parlour, which was never opened, Mrs Pipchin kept a collection of plants in pots, which imparted an earthy flavour of their own to the establishment. However choice examples of their kind, too, these plants were of a kind peculiarly adapted to the embowerment of Mrs Pipchin. There were half-a-dozen specimens of the cactus, writhing round bits of lath, like hairy serpents; another specimen shooting out broad claws, like a green lobster; several creeping vegetables, possessed of sticky and adhesive leaves; and one uncomfortable flower-pot hanging to the ceiling, which appeared to have boiled over, and tickling people underneath with its long green ends, reminded them of spiders - in which Mrs Pipchin's dwelling was uncommonly prolific, though perhaps it challenged competition still more proudly, in the season, in point of earwigs.
Mrs Pipchin's scale of charges being high, however, to all who could afford to pay, and Mrs Pipchin very seldom sweetening the equable acidity of her nature in favour of anybody, she was held to be an old 'lady of remarkable firmness, who was quite scientific in her knowledge of the childish character.' On this reputation, and on the broken heart of Mr Pipchin, she had contrived, taking one year with another, to eke out a tolerable sufficient living since her husband's demise. Within three days after Mrs Chick's first allusion to her, this excellent old lady had the satisfaction of anticipating a handsome addition to her current receipts, from the pocket of Mr Dombey; and of receiving Florence and her little brother Paul, as inmates of the Castle.
Mrs Chick and Miss Tox, who had brought them down on the previous night (which they all passed at an Hotel), had just driven away from the door, on their journey home again; and Mrs Pipchin, with her back to the fire, stood, reviewing the new-comers, like an old soldier. Mrs Pipchin's middle-aged niece, her good-natured and devoted slave, but possessing a gaunt and iron-bound aspect, and much afflicted with boils on her nose, was divesting Master Bitherstone of the clean collar he had worn on parade. Miss Pankey, the only other little boarder at present, had that moment been walked off to the Castle Dungeon (an empty apartment at the back, devoted to correctional purposes), for having sniffed thrice, in the presence of visitors.
'Well, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin to Paul, 'how do you think you shall like me?'
'I don't think I shall like you at all,' replied Paul. 'I want to go away. This isn't my house.'
'No. It's mine,' retorted Mrs Pipchin.
'It's a very nasty one,' said Paul.
'There's a worse place in it than this though,' said Mrs Pipchin, 'where we shut up our bad boys.'
'Has he ever been in it?' asked Paul: pointing out Master Bitherstone.
Mrs Pipchin nodded assent; and Paul had enough to do, for the rest of that day, in surveying Master Bitherstone from head to foot, and watching all the workings of his countenance, with the interest attaching to a boy of mysterious and terrible experiences.
At one o'clock there was a dinner, chiefly of the farinaceous and vegetable kind, when Miss Pankey (a mild little blue-eyed morsel of a child, who was shampoo'd every morning, and seemed in danger of being rubbed away, altogether) was led in from captivity by the ogress herself, and instructed that nobody who sniffed before visitors ever went to Heaven. When this great truth had been thoroughly impressed upon her, she was regaled with rice; and subsequently repeated the form of grace established in the Castle, in which there was a special clause, thanking Mrs Pipchin for a good dinner. Mrs Pipchin's niece, Berinthia, took cold pork. Mrs Pipchin, whose constitution required warm nourishment, made a special repast of mutton-chops, which were brought in hot and hot, between two plates, and smelt very nice.
As it rained after dinner, and they couldn't go out walking on the beach, and Mrs Pipchin's constitution required rest after chops, they went away with Berry (otherwise Berinthia) to the Dungeon; an empty room looking out upon a chalk wall and a water-butt, and made ghastly by a ragged fireplace without any stove in it. Enlivened by company, however, this was the best place after all; for Berry played with them there, and seemed to enjoy a game at romps as much as they did; until Mrs Pipchin knocking angrily at the wall, like the Cock Lane Ghost' revived, they left off, and Berry told them stories in a whisper until twilight.
For tea there was plenty of milk and water, and bread and butter, with a little black tea-pot for Mrs Pipchin and Berry, and buttered toast unlimited for Mrs Pipchin, which was brought in, hot and hot, like the chops. Though Mrs Pipchin got very greasy, outside, over this dish, it didn't seem to lubricate her internally, at all; for she was as fierce as ever, and the hard grey eye knew no softening.
After tea, Berry brought out a little work-box, with the Royal Pavilion on the lid, and fell to working busily; while Mrs Pipchin, having put on her spectacles and opened a great volume bound in green baize, began to nod. And whenever Mrs Pipchin caught herself falling forward into the fire, and woke up, she filliped Master Bitherstone on the nose for nodding too.
At last it was the children's bedtime, and after prayers they went to bed. As little Miss Pankey was afraid of sleeping alone in the dark, Mrs Pipchin always made a point of driving her upstairs herself, like a sheep; and it was cheerful to hear Miss Pankey moaning long afterwards, in the least eligible chamber, and Mrs Pipchin now and then going in to shake her. At about half-past nine o'clock the odour of a warm sweet-bread (Mrs Pipchin's constitution wouldn't go to sleep without sweet-bread) diversified the prevailing fragrance of the house, which Mrs Wickam said was 'a smell of building;' and slumber fell upon the Castle shortly after.
The breakfast next morning was like the tea over night, except that Mrs Pipchin took her roll instead of toast, and seemed a little more irate when it was over. Master Bitherstone read aloud to the rest a pedigree from Genesis judiciously selected by Mrs Pipchin), getting over the names with the ease and clearness of a person tumbling up the treadmill. That done, Miss Pankey was borne away to be shampoo'd; and Master Bitherstone to have something else done to him with salt water, from which he always returned very blue and dejected. Paul and Florence went out in the meantime on the beach with Wickam - who was constantly in tears - and at about noon Mrs Pipchin presided over some Early Readings. It being a part of Mrs Pipchin's system not to encourage a child's mind to develop and expand itself like a young flower, but to open it by force like an oyster, the moral of these lessons was usually of a violent and stunning character: the hero - a naughty boy - seldom, in the mildest catastrophe, being finished off anything less than a lion, or a bear.
Such was life at Mrs Pipchin's. On Saturday Mr Dombey came down; and Florence and Paul would go to his Hotel, and have tea They passed the whole of Sunday with him, and generally rode out before dinner; and on these occasions Mr Dombey seemed to grow, like Falstaff's assailants, and instead of being one man in buckram, to become a dozen. Sunday evening was the most melancholy evening in the week; for Mrs Pipchin always made a point of being particularly cross on Sunday nights. Miss Pankey was generally brought back from an aunt's at Rottingdean, in deep distress; and Master Bitherstone, whose relatives were all in India, and who was required to sit, between the services, in an erect position with his head against the parlour wall, neither moving hand nor foot, suffered so acutely in his young spirits that he once asked Florence, on a Sunday night, if she could give him any idea of the way back to Bengal.
But it was generally said that Mrs Pipchin was a woman of system with children; and no doubt she was. Certainly the wild ones went home tame enough, after sojourning for a few months beneath her hospitable roof. It was generally said, too, that it was highly creditable of Mrs Pipchin to have devoted herself to this way of life, and to have made such a sacrifice of her feelings, and such a resolute stand against her troubles, when Mr Pipchin broke his heart in the Peruvian mines.
At this exemplary old lady, Paul would sit staring in his little arm-chair by the fire, for any length of time. He never seemed to know what weariness was, when he was looking fixedly at Mrs Pipchin. He was not fond of her; he was not afraid of her; but in those old, old moods of his, she seemed to have a grotesque attraction for him. There he would sit, looking at her, and warming his hands, and looking at her, until he sometimes quite confounded Mrs Pipchin, Ogress as she was. Once she asked him, when they were alone, what he was thinking about.
'You,' said Paul, without the least reserve.
'And what are you thinking about me?' asked Mrs Pipchin.
'I'm thinking how old you must be,' said Paul.
'You mustn't say such things as that, young gentleman,' returned the dame. 'That'll never do.'
'Why not?' asked Paul.
'Because it's not polite,' said Mrs Pipchin, snappishly.
'Not polite?' said Paul.
'No.'
'It's not polite,' said Paul, innocently, 'to eat all the mutton chops and toast, Wickam says.
'Wickam,' retorted Mrs Pipchin, colouring, 'is a wicked, impudent, bold-faced hussy.'
'What's that?' inquired Paul.
'Never you mind, Sir,' retorted Mrs Pipchin. 'Remember the story of the little boy that was gored to death by a mad bull for asking questions.'
'If the bull was mad,' said Paul, 'how did he know that the boy had asked questions? Nobody can go and whisper secrets to a mad bull. I don't believe that story.
'You don't believe it, Sir?' repeated Mrs Pipchin, amazed.
'No,' said Paul.
'Not if it should happen to have been a tame bull, you little Infidel?' said Mrs Pipchin.
As Paul had not considered the subject in that light, and had founded his conclusions on the alleged lunacy of the bull, he allowed himself to be put down for the present. But he sat turning it over in his mind, with such an obvious intention of fixing Mrs Pipchin presently, that even that hardy old lady deemed it prudent to retreat until he should have forgotten the subject.
From that time, Mrs Pipchin appeared to have something of the same odd kind of attraction towards Paul, as Paul had towards her. She would make him move his chair to her side of the fire, instead of sitting opposite; and there he would remain in a nook between Mrs Pipchin and the fender, with all the light of his little face absorbed into the black bombazeen drapery, studying every line and wrinkle of her countenance, and peering at the hard grey eye, until Mrs Pipchin was sometimes fain to shut it, on pretence of dozing. Mrs Pipchin had an old black cat, who generally lay coiled upon the centre foot of the fender, purring egotistically, and winking at the fire until the contracted pupils of his eyes were like two notes of admiration. The good old lady might have been - not to record it disrespectfully - a witch, and Paul and the cat her two familiars, as they all sat by the fire together. It would have been quite in keeping with the appearance of the party if they had all sprung up the chimney in a high wind one night, and never been heard of any more.
This, however, never came to pass. The cat, and Paul, and Mrs Pipchin, were constantly to be found in their usual places after dark; and Paul, eschewing the companionship of Master Bitherstone, went on studying Mrs Pipchin, and the cat, and the fire, night after night, as if they were a book of necromancy, in three volumes.
Mrs Wickam put her own construction on Paul's eccentricities; and being confirmed in her low spirits by a perplexed view of chimneys from the room where she was accustomed to sit, and by the noise of the wind, and by the general dulness (gashliness was Mrs Wickam's strong expression) of her present life, deduced the most dismal reflections from the foregoing premises. It was a part of Mrs Pipchin's policy to prevent her own 'young hussy' - that was Mrs Pipchin's generic name for female servant - from communicating with Mrs Wickam: to which end she devoted much of her time to concealing herself behind doors, and springing out on that devoted maiden, whenever she made an approach towards Mrs Wickam's apartment. But Berry was free to hold what converse she could in that quarter, consistently with the discharge of the multifarious duties at which she toiled incessantly from morning to night; and to Berry Mrs Wickam unburdened her mind.
'What a pretty fellow he is when he's asleep!' said Berry, stopping to look at Paul in bed, one night when she took up Mrs Wickam's supper.
'Ah!' sighed Mrs Wickam. 'He need be.'
'Why, he's not ugly when he's awake,' observed Berry.
'No, Ma'am. Oh, no. No more was my Uncle's Betsey Jane,' said Mrs Wickam.
Berry looked as if she would like to trace the connexion of ideas between Paul Dombey and Mrs Wickam's Uncle's Betsey Jane
'My Uncle's wife,' Mrs Wickam went on to say, 'died just like his Mama. My Uncle's child took on just as Master Paul do.'
'Took on! You don't think he grieves for his Mama, sure?' argued Berry, sitting down on the side of the bed. 'He can't remember anything about her, you know, Mrs Wickam. It's not possible.'
'No, Ma'am,' said Mrs Wickam 'No more did my Uncle's child. But my Uncle's child said very strange things sometimes, and looked very strange, and went on very strange, and was very strange altogether. My Uncle's child made people's blood run cold, some times, she did!'
'How?' asked Berry.
'I wouldn't have sat up all night alone with Betsey Jane!' said Mrs Wickam, 'not if you'd have put Wickam into business next morning for himself. I couldn't have done it, Miss Berry.
Miss Berry naturally asked why not? But Mrs Wickam, agreeably to the usage of some ladies in her condition, pursued her own branch of the subject, without any compunction.
'Betsey Jane,' said Mrs Wickam, 'was as sweet a child as I could wish to see. I couldn't wish to see a sweeter. Everything that a child could have in the way of illnesses, Betsey Jane had come through. The cramps was as common to her,' said Mrs Wickam, 'as biles is to yourself, Miss Berry.' Miss Berry involuntarily wrinkled her nose.
'But Betsey Jane,' said Mrs Wickam, lowering her voice, and looking round the room, and towards Paul in bed, 'had been minded, in her cradle, by her departed mother. I couldn't say how, nor I couldn't say when, nor I couldn't say whether the dear child knew it or not, but Betsey Jane had been watched by her mother, Miss Berry!' and Mrs Wickam, with a very white face, and with watery eyes, and with a tremulous voice, again looked fearfully round the room, and towards Paul in bed.
'Nonsense!' cried Miss Berry - somewhat resentful of the idea.
'You may say nonsense! I ain't offended, Miss. I hope you may be able to think in your own conscience that it is nonsense; you'll find your spirits all the better for it in this - you'll excuse my being so free - in this burying-ground of a place; which is wearing of me down. Master Paul's a little restless in his sleep. Pat his back, if you please.'
'Of course you think,' said Berry, gently doing what she was asked, 'that he has been nursed by his mother, too?'
'Betsey Jane,' returned Mrs Wickam in her most solemn tones, 'was put upon as that child has been put upon, and changed as that child has changed. I have seen her sit, often and often, think, think, thinking, like him. I have seen her look, often and often, old, old, old, like him. I have heard her, many a time, talk just like him. I consider that child and Betsey Jane on the same footing entirely, Miss Berry.'
'Is your Uncle's child alive?' asked Berry.
'Yes, Miss, she is alive,' returned Mrs Wickam with an air of triumph, for it was evident. Miss Berry expected the reverse; 'and is married to a silver-chaser. Oh yes, Miss, SHE is alive,' said Mrs Wickam, laying strong stress on her nominative case.
It being clear that somebody was dead, Mrs Pipchin's niece inquired who it was.
'I wouldn't wish to make you uneasy,' returned Mrs Wickam, pursuing her supper. Don't ask me.'
This was the surest way of being asked again. Miss Berry repeated her question, therefore; and after some resistance, and reluctance, Mrs Wickam laid down her knife, and again glancing round the room and at Paul in bed, replied:
'She took fancies to people; whimsical fancies, some of them; others, affections that one might expect to see - only stronger than common. They all died.'
This was so very unexpected and awful to Mrs Pipchin's niece, that she sat upright on the hard edge of the bedstead, breathing short, and surveying her informant with looks of undisguised alarm.
Mrs Wickam shook her left fore-finger stealthily towards the bed where Florence lay; then turned it upside down, and made several emphatic points at the floor; immediately below which was the parlour in which Mrs Pipchin habitually consumed the toast.
'Remember my words, Miss Berry,' said Mrs Wickam, 'and be thankful that Master Paul is not too fond of you. I am, that he's not too fond of me, I assure you; though there isn't much to live for - you'll excuse my being so free - in this jail of a house!'
Miss Berry's emotion might have led to her patting Paul too hard on the back, or might have produced a cessation of that soothing monotony, but he turned in his bed just now, and, presently awaking, sat up in it with his hair hot and wet from the effects of some childish dream, and asked for Florence.
She was out of her own bed at the first sound of his voice; and bending over his pillow immediately, sang him to sleep again. Mrs Wickam shaking her head, and letting fall several tears, pointed out the little group to Berry, and turned her eyes up to the ceiling.
'He's asleep now, my dear,' said Mrs Wickam after a pause, 'you'd better go to bed again. Don't you feel cold?'
'No, nurse,' said Florence, laughing. 'Not at all.'
'Ah!' sighed Mrs Wickam, and she shook her head again, expressing to the watchful Berry, 'we shall be cold enough, some of us, by and by!'
Berry took the frugal supper-tray, with which Mrs Wickam had by this time done, and bade her good-night.
'Good-night, Miss!' returned Wickam softly. 'Good-night! Your aunt is an old lady, Miss Berry, and it's what you must have looked for, often.'
This consolatory farewell, Mrs Wickam accompanied with a look of heartfelt anguish; and being left alone with the two children again, and becoming conscious that the wind was blowing mournfully, she indulged in melancholy - that cheapest and most accessible of luxuries - until she was overpowered by slumber.
Although the niece of Mrs Pipchin did not expect to find that exemplary dragon prostrate on the hearth-rug when she went downstairs, she was relieved to find her unusually fractious and severe, and with every present appearance of intending to live a long time to be a comfort to all who knew her. Nor had she any symptoms of declining, in the course of the ensuing week, when the constitutional viands still continued to disappear in regular succession, notwithstanding that Paul studied her as attentively as ever, and occupied his usual seat between the black skirts and the fender, with unwavering constancy.
But as Paul himself was no stronger at the expiration of that time than he had been on his first arrival, though he looked much healthier in the face, a little carriage was got for him, in which he could lie at his ease, with an alphabet and other elementary works of reference, and be wheeled down to the sea-side. Consistent in his odd tastes, the child set aside a ruddy-faced lad who was proposed as the drawer of this carriage, and selected, instead, his grandfather - a weazen, old, crab-faced man, in a suit of battered oilskin, who had got tough and stringy from long pickling in salt water, and who smelt like a weedy sea-beach when the tide is out.
With this notable attendant to pull him along, and Florence always walking by his side, and the despondent Wickam bringing up the rear, he went down to the margin of the ocean every day; and there he would sit or lie in his carriage for hours together: never so distressed as by the company of children - Florence alone excepted, always.
'Go away, if you please,' he would say to any child who came to bear him company. Thank you, but I don't want you.'
Some small voice, near his ear, would ask him how he was, perhaps.
'I am very well, I thank you,' he would answer. 'But you had better go and play, if you please.'
Then he would turn his head, and watch the child away, and say to Florence, 'We don't want any others, do we? Kiss me, Floy.'
He had even a dislike, at such times, to the company of Wickam, and was well pleased when she strolled away, as she generally did, to pick up shells and acquaintances. His favourite spot was quite a lonely one, far away from most loungers; and with Florence sitting by his side at work, or reading to him, or talking to him, and the wind blowing on his face, and the water coming up among the wheels of his bed, he wanted nothing more.
'Floy,' he said one day, 'where's India, where that boy's friends live?'
'Oh, it's a long, long distance off,' said Florence, raising her eyes from her work.
'Weeks off?' asked Paul.
'Yes dear. Many weeks' journey, night and day.'
'If you were in India, Floy,' said Paul, after being silent for a minute, 'I should - what is it that Mama did? I forget.'
'Loved me!' answered Florence.
'No, no. Don't I love you now, Floy? What is it? - Died. in you were in India, I should die, Floy.'
She hurriedly put her work aside, and laid her head down on his pillow, caressing him. And so would she, she said, if he were there. He would be better soon.
'Oh! I am a great deal better now!' he answered. 'I don't mean that. I mean that I should die of being so sorry and so lonely, Floy!'
Another time, in the same place, he fell asleep, and slept quietly for a long time. Awaking suddenly, he listened, started up, and sat listening.
Florence asked him what he thought he heard.
'I want to know what it says,' he answered, looking steadily in her face. 'The sea' Floy, what is it that it keeps on saying?'
She told him that it was only the noise of the rolling waves.
'Yes, yes,' he said. 'But I know that they are always saying something. Always the same thing. What place is over there?' He rose up, looking eagerly at the horizon.
She told him that there was another country opposite, but he said he didn't mean that: he meant further away - farther away!
Very often afterwards, in the midst of their talk, he would break off, to try to understand what it was that the waves were always saying; and would rise up in his couch to look towards that invisible region, far away.
 
在时间（在一定的意义上说，它是另一个少校）的机警与注意的眼光下，保罗的睡眠逐渐地改变着。愈来愈多的亮光妨碍了它们；愈来愈清楚的梦扰乱了它们；愈益增多的事物与印象群集在他的周围，使他不得安息；他就这样从婴儿时代进入了幼年时代，成为一位会说话，会走路，会疑虑的董贝。
在理查兹犯了罪过、被驱逐出去之后，育儿室可以说已经移交给一个特设委员会来管理了，正像有的公共机构如果找不到一个阿特拉斯①能顶得起它的重担的话，有时就会发生这种情形一样。委员会的委员自然是奇克夫人与托克斯小姐。她们怀着十分惊人的热忱致力于所担负的职责，因此白格斯托克少校每天都能看到一些新的迹象提醒他，他已被抛弃了；奇克先生则由于失去了家庭的监督，就委身于消遣玩乐的世界；他在俱乐部和咖啡馆用餐；一天之内在三次不同的场合与他相遇，都能从他身上闻到烟味；他独自一人出去看戏；总而言之，正如奇克夫人对他说的那样，他已摆脱一切社会义务与道义责任的束缚了。
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①阿特拉斯（Atlas）：希腊神话中双肩能掮天的巨神。
虽然小保罗从一出生起就大有希望，可是所有这些警惕与护理却没有能使他成长为一个体格健壮的孩子。也许生来体质就娇弱，在辞退了奶妈之后他就消瘦、虚弱下去，而且似乎长久在等待机会，从她们的手中溜走，前去寻找他失去的母亲。在他通向成年的障碍赛马中，这个危险的地段虽然已经跳过了，但他依旧觉得道路崎岖不平，乘骑十分艰辛，路程中的所有障碍都使他苦恼不堪。对他来说，每长一颗牙齿都是一道极危险的篱笆，出麻疹中的每一个疹疱都是一道石墙。每一阵百日咳都使他摔倒在地；成群结队、接踵而来的各种小病碾压着他，使他再也不能起来。某种猛禽而不是画眉鸟钻进了他的喉咙①。如果鸡雏与那个以它们的名称来命名的儿童疾病有关的话，②那么连它们也变得很凶猛，就像豹猫一样使他惶惶不安。
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①英文thrush这个词有两个意义，一是画眉鸟，一是鹅口疮。这里指保罗患了鹅口疮，喉咙中像有猛禽在啄咬一样难受。
②指鸡痘（chicken－pox），即水痘。
给保罗施洗礼时的寒冷也许重重地打击了他机体中某处敏感的部位，在他父亲的阴森的冷气的笼罩下，它不能痊愈，可是从那天开始，他就成了一个不幸的孩子了。威肯姆大嫂时常说，她从没有见过哪一位小乖乖这样受罪的。
威肯姆大嫂是一位侍者的妻子——那似乎就等于是任何其他男子的寡妇——；因为显然不可能有任何人会去追求她或她会去追求任何人，所以她到董贝先生家里求职的申请受到了有利的考虑。在保罗突然断奶以后的一两天之内，她就被雇用当他的保姆。威肯姆大嫂是一位温顺的女人，皮肤白嫩，眉毛总是向上扬起，头总是向下低垂；她总是随时准备怜悯自己或受人怜悯或怜悯其他任何人。她有一份惊人的天赋，就是从极为绝望与可怜的角度来观察一切事物，又援引一些可怕的先例来与它们比较，并从这个才能的发挥中得到极大的安慰。
不需要指出，庄严的董贝先生丝毫也不知道她有这个优良的品质。如果他知道了，那才真是令人惊异的，因为公馆里从来没有一个人——连奇克夫人或托克斯小姐也包括在内——敢借任何口实向他低声说出小保罗有使人感到不安的一丁点理由。他认为，孩子总难免要通过某些小病小痛的例行过程，通过得愈快就愈好。如果他能出钱使他免受这些病痛，或者可以买一个替身，就像不幸被抽中服兵役时的情形一样，那么他就会毫不吝啬，十分乐意地这样去做。但由于这是行不通的，所以他只是不时傲慢地心中纳闷，大自然这样安排是什么意思；并聊以自慰地想，道路上的一个里程碑又走过了，伟大的旅程终点又接近好多了。因为在他心中压倒一切的情绪就是急不可耐，这种情绪不断地变得愈来愈强烈，并随着保罗年龄的增长愈来愈加深。他曾经梦想他们父子联合起来就会创建宏伟的业绩；他急不可耐地等待着胜利实现这一梦想的时候来到。
有些哲学家告诉我们，自私植根于我们最热烈的爱与最深厚的感情之中。董贝先生年幼的儿子从一开始就作为他自己的伟大的一部分，或作为董贝父子公司的伟大的一部分（二者实际上是一回事），对他显然十分重要，所以他所怀的父爱可以像许多享有盛誉的华丽建筑一样，很容易就能追溯到它的埋得很深的基础。但他用他所有的爱去爱他的儿子。如果在他的冰冷的心中有一个温暖的地方，那么这个地方就被他的儿子占据着；如果在它的十分坚硬的表面上可以铭刻什么形象的话，那么铭刻出来的就是他儿子的形象，虽然这形象与其说是一个婴儿或是一个小孩，还不如说是一位成年人——董贝父子公司中的“子”。因此，他急不可耐地进入未来，匆匆地跳过了他历史中的中间阶段。因此，他虽然很爱他，但却很少或根本不替他担忧；他觉得仿佛这孩子具有驱恶避邪的魔力，•一•定能成长为他在思想上经常与他进行相互交谈的那一位成年人，仿佛这位成年人是个已经存在的实体似的，他每天都为他制订计划，作出打算。
保罗就这样长到将近五岁。虽然他小小的脸孔有些缺乏血色，神色有些愁闷，这使得威肯姆大嫂意味深长地摇过好多次头，长长地叹过好多次气；但他是个漂亮的小家伙。从他的性格来看，他在日后的生活中很有希望变得专横傲慢。他也很有希望懂得他自己的重要性，懂得所有其他事物与人们都能随从他的欲望，并理所当然地屈服于它。他是孩子气的，有时还很爱玩爱闹，并不是一种忧闷不乐的性情；但在另一些时候，他却有怪僻地、老气横秋地静坐在小扶手椅子中沉思默想的习惯，在这种时候他看上去（或说起话来）就像是神话故事中那些可怕的小妖精，他们已有一百五十岁或二百岁，但却荒诞古怪地装扮成他们所已替换了的小孩子。他在楼上的育儿室中常会露出这种过早成熟的神态；有时甚至是在跟弗洛伦斯玩耍的时候或者把托克斯小姐当作一匹马驱赶着的时候，也会一边喊着“我累了”，一边突然陷入这种状态。当他的小椅子被搬到楼下他父亲的房间里，他和他晚饭后在壁炉旁边挨近坐着的时候，他准会陷入这种状态之中；在任何其他时候都比不上在这时候这样准定使他陷入这种状态的。这时候，他们是炉火所曾照耀过的最奇怪的一对人。董贝先生身子毕挺，神情十分庄严地凝视着火焰；跟他一模一样的那位小人儿，脸上露出一副老而又老的神态，像圣人一样全神贯注、一动不动地注视着那红色的景象。董贝先生心中怀着复杂的世俗的谋略与计划；跟他一模一样的小人儿心中怀着天知道什么荒诞离奇的幻想、没有定形的思索和飘忽不定的考虑。董贝先生由于古板与傲慢而木然不动；跟他一模一样的小人儿则由于遗传和不自觉的模仿而木然不动。这两个人是多么相像，然而又形成了多么奇异的对照。
有一次他们两人一言不发地沉默了很久，董贝先生只是由于偶尔往他的眼睛看上一眼，看到他眼中的亮光像珠子一样闪耀，因此知道他没有睡着，这时候，小保罗这样打破了沉默：
“爸爸，钱是什么？”
这个突然提出的问题跟董贝先生正在思考的问题十分直接地联结着，因此董贝先生感到困窘。
“你问钱是什么吗，保罗？”他回答道。“钱？”
“是的，”孩子把手搁在小椅子的扶手上，抬起他那老气横秋的脸，望着董贝先生的脸，说道，“钱是什么？”
董贝先生陷入了困境。他本来真想把流通手段、通货、通货贬值、钞票、金条银条、汇率、市场上贵金属的价值等等一类术语向他作出一些解释，可是他向下看看那小椅子，看到下面还有那么远远的一段距离，就回答道，“金，银，铜，基尼，先令，半便士。①，你知道它们是什么吗？”
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①当时的英国货币单位。1基尼等于21先令；1镑等于20先令；1先令等于12便士。
“啊，是的，我知道它们是什么，”保罗说道，“我问的不是这意思，爸爸。我是想问，钱究竟是什么？”
哎呀，天老爷！当他抬起脸望着他父亲的脸的时候，那是一张多么老气的脸啊！
“钱究竟是什么！”董贝先生大为惊异地把椅子挪后一点，以便仔细看看提出这样一个问题的自以为是的小东西。
“爸爸，我的意思是它能做什么？”保罗合抱着两只胳膊（它们不够长，不容易合抱），看着火，又抬起眼睛来看着他，又看着火，然后又抬起眼睛来看着他。
董贝先生把他的椅子拉回到原先的地方，摸摸他的头。
“你会逐渐知道的，我的孩子，”他说道。“钱能做任何事情，保罗。”他一边说，一边拉起那只小手，轻轻地敲打着他自己的手。
但是保罗尽快地抽回了自己的手，并轻轻地擦着椅子的扶手，仿佛他的智慧是在手心里，他正在把它磨擦得更机敏一些——同时又看着火，仿佛火是他的顾问与提词员似的——；他在短短的沉默之后，重复着问道：
“任何事情吗，爸爸？”
“是的，任何事情——几乎，”董贝先生说道。
“任何事情就是每一件事情，是不是，爸爸？”他的儿子问道；他没有注意到或者可能不理解那个限制词。
“是的，任何事情包括每一件事情，”董贝先生回答道。
“为什么钱不能把我的妈妈救活呢？”孩子反问道。“它是残酷的，是不是？”
“残酷！”董贝先生整整领饰，似乎憎恨这个想法。“不，好东西不会是残酷的。”
“如果它是个好东西，能做任何事情，”小家伙重新看着火，沉思地说道，“那么我奇怪，它为什么不能把我的妈妈救活呢。”
这次他没有向他的父亲问这个问题。也许他已以孩子机敏的观察力看出，它已经使他的父亲感到不安了。可是他大声地把这个思想重复地说出来，仿佛这对他来说是一个存在已久的思想，曾使他十分苦恼；然后他用手支托着下巴，坐在那里，慎重地思考着，想从火中找到一个解释。
董贝先生从他的惊奇（且不说是恐慌）中恢复过来以后（因为这孩子虽然一个晚上又一个晚上在他身旁以同样的姿态坐着，但这却是他第一次向他提出他母亲的问题），向他详细地说明，钱虽然是个神通很广大的精灵，决不能以任何理由轻视它，但它却不能使到了时候该死的人们活下来；而且很不幸，虽然我们从不曾像现在这样富裕过，但是即使是在城市里，我们所有的人也都是一定要死的。不过，尽管如此，钱却可以使我们得到荣誉，使人们畏惧、尊敬、奉承和羡慕我们，并使我们在所有人们的眼中看来权势显赫，荣耀光彩。它常常能把死亡推迟得很久。举个例子来说，它能使他妈妈获得皮尔金斯先生（保罗本人也常常从他那里受益）和杰出的帕克•佩普斯医生（他从来不知道他）的治疗。它能做到一切它能做到的事情。董贝先生把所有这一切以及为了达到同一目的所要说的其他事情都灌输到他儿子的心中；他的儿子专心致志地听着，似乎对他所说的话他大部分都听懂了。
“它也不能使我强壮和十分健康，是不是，爸爸？”保罗经过短时间的沉默之后，搓搓小手，问道。
“不过你是强壮和十分健康的，”董贝先生回答道。“难道不是吗？”
啊，那张重新抬起来、露出半是忧郁、半是狡猾的表情的脸是多么老气横秋啊！
“你就跟你同样的小人儿通常的情形一样，强壮，健康，是不是，嗯？”董贝先生说道。
“弗洛伦斯比我大，但是我知道，我不像弗洛伦斯那么强壮、健康，”孩子回答道；“不过我相信，弗洛伦斯像我这样小的时候，她能一次比我玩得长久得多，而不会感到累。我有时却感到很累，”小保罗烘烘手，说道，一边往炉栅的栏栅中间望进去，仿佛那里正在表演什么鬼怪木偶戏似的，“而且我的骨头痛得很（威肯姆说，这是我的骨头），我不知道该怎么办。”
“是的！可是那是在夜
Chapter 9
In which the Wooden Midshipman gets into Trouble
That spice of romance and love of the marvellous, of which there was a pretty strong infusion in the nature of young Walter Gay, and which the guardianship of his Uncle, old Solomon Gills, had not very much weakened by the waters of stern practical experience, was the occasion of his attaching an uncommon and delightful interest to the adventure of Florence with Good Mrs Brown. He pampered and cherished it in his memory, especially that part of it with which he had been associated: until it became the spoiled child of his fancy, and took its own way, and did what it liked with it.
The recollection of those incidents, and his own share in them, may have been made the more captivating, perhaps, by the weekly dreamings of old Sol and Captain Cuttle on Sundays. Hardly a Sunday passed, without mysterious references being made by one or other of those worthy chums to Richard Whittington; and the latter gentleman had even gone so far as to purchase a ballad of considerable antiquity, that had long fluttered among many others, chiefly expressive of maritime sentiments, on a dead wall in the Commercial Road: which poetical performance set forth the courtship and nuptials of a promising young coal-whipper with a certain 'lovely Peg,' the accomplished daughter of the master and part-owner of a Newcastle collier. In this stirring legend, Captain Cuttle descried a profound metaphysical bearing on the case of Walter and Florence; and it excited him so much, that on very festive occasions, as birthdays and a few other non-Dominical holidays, he would roar through the whole song in the little back parlour; making an amazing shake on the word Pe-e-eg, with which every verse concluded, in compliment to the heroine of the piece.
But a frank, free-spirited, open-hearted boy, is not much given to analysing the nature of his own feelings, however strong their hold upon him: and Walter would have found it difficult to decide this point. He had a great affection for the wharf where he had encountered Florence, and for the streets (albeit not enchanting in themselves) by which they had come home. The shoes that had so often tumbled off by the way, he preserved in his own room; and, sitting in the little back parlour of an evening, he had drawn a whole gallery of fancy portraits of Good Mrs Brown. It may be that he became a little smarter in his dress after that memorable occasion; and he certainly liked in his leisure time to walk towards that quarter of the town where Mr Dombey's house was situated, on the vague chance of passing little Florence in the street. But the sentiment of all this was as boyish and innocent as could be. Florence was very pretty, and it is pleasant to admire a pretty face. Florence was defenceless and weak, and it was a proud thought that he had been able to render her any protection and assistance. Florence was the most grateful little creature in the world, and it was delightful to see her bright gratitude beaming in her face. Florence was neglected and coldly looked upon, and his breast was full of youthful interest for the slighted child in her dull, stately home.
Thus it came about that, perhaps some half-a-dozen times in the course of the year, Walter pulled off his hat to Florence in the street, and Florence would stop to shake hands. Mrs Wickam (who, with a characteristic alteration of his name, invariably spoke of him as 'Young Graves') was so well used to this, knowing the story of their acquaintance, that she took no heed of it at all. Miss Nipper, on the other hand, rather looked out for these occasions: her sensitive young heart being secretly propitiated by Walter's good looks, and inclining to the belief that its sentiments were responded to.
In this way, Walter, so far from forgetting or losing sight of his acquaintance with Florence, only remembered it better and better. As to its adventurous beginning, and all those little circumstances which gave it a distinctive character and relish, he took them into account, more as a pleasant story very agreeable to his imagination, and not to be dismissed from it, than as a part of any matter of fact with which he was concerned. They set off Florence very much, to his fancy; but not himself. Sometimes he thought (and then he walked very fast) what a grand thing it would have been for him to have been going to sea on the day after that first meeting, and to have gone, and to have done wonders there, and to have stopped away a long time, and to have come back an Admiral of all the colours of the dolphin, or at least a Post-Captain with epaulettes of insupportable brightness, and have married Florence (then a beautiful young woman) in spite of Mr Dombey's teeth, cravat, and watch-chain, and borne her away to the blue shores of somewhere or other, triumphantly. But these flights of fancy seldom burnished the brass plate of Dombey and Son's Offices into a tablet of golden hope, or shed a brilliant lustre on their dirty skylights; and when the Captain and Uncle Sol talked about Richard Whittington and masters' daughters, Walter felt that he understood his true position at Dombey and Son's, much better than they did.
So it was that he went on doing what he had to do from day to day, in a cheerful, pains-taking, merry spirit; and saw through the sanguine complexion of Uncle Sol and Captain Cuttle; and yet entertained a thousand indistinct and visionary fancies of his own, to which theirs were work-a-day probabilities. Such was his condition at the Pipchin period, when he looked a little older than of yore, but not much; and was the same light-footed, light-hearted, light-headed lad, as when he charged into the parlour at the head of Uncle Sol and the imaginary boarders, and lighted him to bring up the Madeira.
'Uncle Sol,' said Walter, 'I don't think you're well. You haven't eaten any breakfast. I shall bring a doctor to you, if you go on like this.'
'He can't give me what I want, my boy,' said Uncle Sol. 'At least he is in good practice if he can - and then he wouldn't.'
'What is it, Uncle? Customers?'
'Ay,' returned Solomon, with a sigh. 'Customers would do.'
'Confound it, Uncle!' said Walter, putting down his breakfast cup with a clatter, and striking his hand on the table: 'when I see the people going up and down the street in shoals all day, and passing and re-passing the shop every minute, by scores, I feel half tempted to rush out, collar somebody, bring him in, and make him buy fifty pounds' worth of instruments for ready money. What are you looking in at the door for? - ' continued Walter, apostrophizing an old gentleman with a powdered head (inaudibly to him of course), who was staring at a ship's telescope with all his might and main. 'That's no use. I could do that. Come in and buy it!'
The old gentleman, however, having satiated his curiosity, walked calmly away.
'There he goes!' said Walter. 'That's the way with 'em all. But, Uncle - I say, Uncle Sol' - for the old man was meditating and had not responded to his first appeal. 'Don't be cast down. Don't be out of spirits, Uncle. When orders do come, they'll come in such a crowd, you won't be able to execute 'em.'
'I shall be past executing 'em, whenever they come, my boy,' returned Solomon Gills. 'They'll never come to this shop again, till I am out of t.'
'I say, Uncle! You musn't really, you know!' urged Walter. 'Don't!'
Old Sol endeavoured to assume a cheery look, and smiled across the little table at him as pleasantly as he could.
'There's nothing more than usual the matter; is there, Uncle?' said Walter, leaning his elbows on the tea tray, and bending over, to speak the more confidentially and kindly. 'Be open with me, Uncle, if there is, and tell me all about it.'
'No, no, no,' returned Old Sol. 'More than usual? No, no. What should there be the matter more than usual?'
Walter answered with an incredulous shake of his head. 'That's what I want to know,' he said, 'and you ask me! I'll tell you what, Uncle, when I see you like this, I am quite sorry that I live with you.'
Old Sol opened his eyes involuntarily.
'Yes. Though nobody ever was happier than I am and always have been with you, I am quite sorry that I live with you, when I see you with anything in your mind.'
'I am a little dull at such times, I know,' observed Solomon, meekly rubbing his hands.
'What I mean, Uncle Sol,' pursued Walter, bending over a little more to pat him on the shoulder, 'is, that then I feel you ought to have, sitting here and pouring out the tea instead of me, a nice little dumpling of a wife, you know, - a comfortable, capital, cosy old lady, who was just a match for you, and knew how to manage you, and keep you in good heart. Here am I, as loving a nephew as ever was (I am sure I ought to be!) but I am only a nephew, and I can't be such a companion to you when you're low and out of sorts as she would have made herself, years ago, though I'm sure I'd give any money if I could cheer you up. And so I say, when I see you with anything on your mind, that I feel quite sorry you haven't got somebody better about you than a blundering young rough-and-tough boy like me, who has got the will to console you, Uncle, but hasn't got the way - hasn't got the way,' repeated Walter, reaching over further yet, to shake his Uncle by the hand.
'Wally, my dear boy,' said Solomon, 'if the cosy little old lady had taken her place in this parlour five and forty years ago, I never could have been fonder of her than I am of you.'
'I know that, Uncle Sol,' returned Walter. 'Lord bless you, I know that. But you wouldn't have had the whole weight of any uncomfortable secrets if she had been with you, because she would have known how to relieve you of 'em, and I don't.'
'Yes, yes, you do,' returned the Instrument-maker.
'Well then, what's the matter, Uncle Sol?' said Walter, coaxingly. 'Come! What's the matter?'
Solomon Gills persisted that there was nothing the matter; and maintained it so resolutely, that his nephew had no resource but to make a very indifferent imitation of believing him.
'All I can say is, Uncle Sol, that if there is - '
'But there isn't,' said Solomon.
'Very well,, said Walter. 'Then I've no more to say; and that's lucky, for my time's up for going to business. I shall look in by-and-by when I'm out, to see how you get on, Uncle. And mind, Uncle! I'll never believe you again, and never tell you anything more about Mr Carker the Junior, if I find out that you have been deceiving me!'
Solomon Gills laughingly defied him to find out anything of the kind; and Walter, revolving in his thoughts all sorts of impracticable ways of making fortunes and placing the wooden Midshipman in a position of independence, betook himself to the offices of Dombey and Son with a heavier countenance than he usually carried there.
There lived in those days, round the corner - in Bishopsgate Street Without - one Brogley, sworn broker and appraiser, who kept a shop where every description of second-hand furniture was exhibited in the most uncomfortable aspect, and under circumstances and in combinations the most completely foreign to its purpose. Dozens of chairs hooked on to washing-stands, which with difficulty poised themselves on the shoulders of sideboards, which in their turn stood upon the wrong side of dining-tables, gymnastic with their legs upward on the tops of other dining-tables, were among its most reasonable arrangements. A banquet array of dish-covers, wine-glasses, and decanters was generally to be seen, spread forth upon the bosom of a four-post bedstead, for the entertainment of such genial company as half-a-dozen pokers, and a hall lamp. A set of window curtains with no windows belonging to them, would be seen gracefully draping a barricade of chests of drawers, loaded with little jars from chemists' shops; while a homeless hearthrug severed from its natural companion the fireside, braved the shrewd east wind in its adversity, and trembled in melancholy accord with the shrill complainings of a cabinet piano, wasting away, a string a day, and faintly resounding to the noises of the street in its jangling and distracted brain. Of motionless clocks that never stirred a finger, and seemed as incapable of being successfully wound up, as the pecuniary affairs of their former owners, there was always great choice in Mr Brogley's shop; and various looking-glasses, accidentally placed at compound interest of reflection and refraction, presented to the eye an eternal perspective of bankruptcy and ruin.
Mr Brogley himself was a moist-eyed, pink-complexioned, crisp-haired man, of a bulky figure and an easy temper - for that class of Caius Marius who sits upon the ruins of other people's Carthages, can keep up his spirits well enough. He had looked in at Solomon's shop sometimes, to ask a question about articles in Solomon's way of business; and Walter knew him sufficiently to give him good day when they met in the street. But as that was the extent of the broker's acquaintance with Solomon Gills also, Walter was not a little surprised when he came back in the course of the forenoon, agreeably to his promise, to find Mr Brogley sitting in the back parlour with his hands in his pockets, and his hat hanging up behind the door.
'Well, Uncle Sol!' said Walter. The old man was sitting ruefully on the opposite side of the table, with his spectacles over his eyes, for a wonder, instead of on his forehead. 'How are you now?'
Solomon shook his head, and waved one hand towards the broker, as introducing him.
'Is there anything the matter?' asked Walter, with a catching in his breath.
'No, no. There's nothing the matter, said Mr Brogley. 'Don't let it put you out of the way.' Walter looked from the broker to his Uncle in mute amazement. 'The fact is,' said Mr Brogley, 'there's a little payment on a bond debt - three hundred and seventy odd, overdue: and I'm in possession.'
'In possession!' cried Walter, looking round at the shop.
'Ah!' said Mr Brogley, in confidential assent, and nodding his head as if he would urge the advisability of their all being comfortable together. 'It's an execution. That's what it is. Don't let it put you out of the way. I come myself, because of keeping it quiet and sociable. You know me. It's quite private.'
'Uncle Sol!' faltered Walter.
'Wally, my boy,' returned his uncle. 'It's the first time. Such a calamity never happened to me before. I'm an old man to begin.' Pushing up his spectacles again (for they were useless any longer to conceal his emotion), he covered his face with his hand, and sobbed aloud, and his tears fell down upon his coffee-coloured waistcoat.
'Uncle Sol! Pray! oh don't!' exclaimed Walter, who really felt a thrill of terror in seeing the old man weep. 'For God's sake don't do that. Mr Brogley, what shall I do?'
'I should recommend you looking up a friend or so,' said Mr Brogley, 'and talking it over.'
'To be sure!' cried Walter, catching at anything. 'Certainly! Thankee. Captain Cuttle's the man, Uncle. Wait till I run to Captain Cuttle. Keep your eye upon my Uncle, will you, Mr Brogley, and make him as comfortable as you can while I am gone? Don't despair, Uncle Sol. Try and keep a good heart, there's a dear fellow!'
Saying this with great fervour, and disregarding the old man's broken remonstrances, Walter dashed out of the shop again as hard as he could go; and, having hurried round to the office to excuse himself on the plea of his Uncle's sudden illness, set off, full speed, for Captain Cuttle's residence.
Everything seemed altered as he ran along the streets. There were the usual entanglement and noise of carts, drays, omnibuses, waggons, and foot passengers, but the misfortune that had fallen on the wooden Midshipman made it strange and new. Houses and shops were different from what they used to be, and bore Mr Brogley's warrant on their fronts in large characters. The broker seemed to have got hold of the very churches; for their spires rose into the sky with an unwonted air. Even the sky itself was changed, and had an execution in it plainly.
Captain Cuttle lived on the brink of a little canal near the India Docks, where there was a swivel bridge which opened now and then to let some wandering monster of a ship come roamIng up the street like a stranded leviathan. The gradual change from land to water, on the approach to Captain Cuttle's lodgings, was curious. It began with the erection of flagstaffs, as appurtenances to public-houses; then came slop-sellers' shops, with Guernsey shirts, sou'wester hats, and canvas pantaloons, at once the tightest and the loosest of their order, hanging up outside. These were succeeded by anchor and chain-cable forges, where sledgehammers were dinging upon iron all day long. Then came rows of houses, with little vane-surmounted masts uprearing themselves from among the scarlet beans. Then, ditches. Then, pollard willows. Then, more ditches. Then, unaccountable patches of dirty water, hardly to be descried, for the ships that covered them. Then, the air was perfumed with chips; and all other trades were swallowed up in mast, oar, and block-making, and boatbuilding. Then, the ground grew marshy and unsettled. Then, there was nothing to be smelt but rum and sugar. Then, Captain Cuttle's lodgings - at once a first floor and a top storey, in Brig Place - were close before you.
The Captain was one of those timber-looking men, suits of oak as well as hearts, whom it is almost impossible for the liveliest imagination to separate from any part of their dress, however insignificant. Accordingly, when Walter knocked at the door, and the Captain instantly poked his head out of one of his little front windows, and hailed him, with the hard glared hat already on it, and the shirt-collar like a sail, and the wide suit of blue, all standing as usual, Walter was as fully persuaded that he was always in that state, as if the Captain had been a bird and those had been his feathers.
'Wal'r, my lad!'said Captain Cuttle. 'Stand by and knock again. Hard! It's washing day.'
Walter, in his impatience, gave a prodigious thump with the knocker.
'Hard it is!' said Captain Cuttle, and immediately drew in his head, as if he expected a squall.
Nor was he mistaken: for a widow lady, with her sleeves rolled up to her shoulders, and her arms frothy with soap-suds and smoking with hot water, replied to the summons with startling rapidity. Before she looked at Walter she looked at the knocker, and then, measuring him with her eyes from head to foot, said she wondered he had left any of it.
'Captain Cuttle's at home, I know,' said Walter with a conciliatory smile.
'Is he?' replied the widow lady. 'In-deed!'
'He has just been speaking to me,' said Walter, in breathless explanation.
'Has he?' replied the widow lady. 'Then p'raps you'll give him Mrs MacStinger's respects, and say that the next time he lowers himself and his lodgings by talking out of the winder she'll thank him to come down and open the door too.' Mrs MacStinger spoke loud, and listened for any observations that might be offered from the first floor.
'I'll mention it,' said Walter, 'if you'll have the goodness to let me in, Ma'am.'
For he was repelled by a wooden fortification extending across the doorway, and put there to prevent the little MacStingers in their moments of recreation from tumbling down the steps.
'A boy that can knock my door down,' said Mrs MacStinger, contemptuously, 'can get over that, I should hope!' But Walter, taking this as a permission to enter, and getting over it, Mrs MacStinger immediately demanded whether an Englishwoman's house was her castle or not; and whether she was to be broke in upon by 'raff.' On these subjects her thirst for information was still very importunate, when Walter, having made his way up the little staircase through an artificial fog occasioned by the washing, which covered the banisters with a clammy perspiration, entered Captain Cuttle's room, and found that gentleman in ambush behind the door.
'Never owed her a penny, Wal'r,' said Captain Cuttle, in a low voice, and with visible marks of trepidation on his countenance. 'Done her a world of good turns, and the children too. Vixen at times, though. Whew!'
'I should go away, Captain Cuttle,' said Walter.
'Dursn't do it, Wal'r,' returned the Captain. 'She'd find me out, wherever I went. Sit down. How's Gills?'
The Captain was dining (in his hat) off cold loin of mutton, porter, and some smoking hot potatoes, which he had cooked himself, and took out of a little saucepan before the fire as he wanted them. He unscrewed his hook at dinner-time, and screwed a knife into its wooden socket instead, with which he had already begun to peel one of these potatoes for Walter. His rooms were very small, and strongly impregnated with tobacco-smoke, but snug enough: everything being stowed away, as if there were an earthquake regularly every half-hour.
'How's Gills?' inquired the Captain.
Walter, who had by this time recovered his breath, and lost his spirits - or such temporary spirits as his rapid journey had given him - looked at his questioner for a moment, said 'Oh, Captain Cuttle!' and burst into tears.
No words can describe the Captain's consternation at this sight Mrs MacStinger faded into nothing before it. He dropped the potato and the fork - and would have dropped the knife too if he could - and sat gazing at the boy, as if he expected to hear next moment that a gulf had opened in the City, which had swallowed up his old friend, coffee-coloured suit, buttons, chronometer, spectacles, and all.
But when Walter told him what was really the matter, Captain Cuttle, after a moment's reflection, started up into full activity. He emptied out of a little tin canister on the top shelf of the cupboard, his whole stock of ready money (amounting to thirteen pounds and half-a-crown), which he transferred to one of the pockets of his square blue coat; further enriched that repository with the contents of his plate chest, consisting of two withered atomies of tea-spoons, and an obsolete pair of knock-knee'd sugar-tongs; pulled up his immense double-cased silver watch from the depths in which it reposed, to assure himself that that valuable was sound and whole; re-attached the hook to his right wrist; and seizing the stick covered over with knobs, bade Walter come along.
Remembering, however, in the midst of his virtuous excitement, that Mrs MacStinger might be lying in wait below, Captain Cuttle hesitated at last, not without glancing at the window, as if he had some thoughts of escaping by that unusual means of egress, rather than encounter his terrible enemy. He decided, however, in favour of stratagem.
'Wal'r,' said the Captain, with a timid wink, 'go afore, my lad. Sing out, "good-bye, Captain Cuttle," when you're in the passage, and shut the door. Then wait at the corner of the street 'till you see me.
These directions were not issued without a previous knowledge of the enemy's tactics, for when Walter got downstairs, Mrs MacStinger glided out of the little back kitchen, like an avenging spirit. But not gliding out upon the Captain, as she had expected, she merely made a further allusion to the knocker, and glided in again.
Some five minutes elapsed before Captain Cuttle could summon courage to attempt his escape; for Walter waited so long at the street corner, looking back at the house, before there were any symptoms of the hard glazed hat. At length the Captain burst out of the door with the suddenness of an explosion, and coming towards him at a great pace, and never once looking over his shoulder, pretended, as soon as they were well out of the street, to whistle a tune.
'Uncle much hove down, Wal'r?' inquired the Captain, as they were walking along.
'I am afraid so. If you had seen him this morning, you would never have forgotten it.'
'Walk fast, Wal'r, my lad,' returned the Captain, mending his pace; 'and walk the same all the days of your life. Overhaul the catechism for that advice, and keep it!'
The Captain was too busy with his own thoughts of Solomon Gills, mingled perhaps with some reflections on his late escape from Mrs MacStinger, to offer any further quotations on the way for Walter's moral improvement They interchanged no other word until they arrived at old Sol's door, where the unfortunate wooden Midshipman, with his instrument at his eye, seemed to be surveying the whole horizon in search of some friend to help him out of his difficulty.
'Gills!' said the Captain, hurrying into the back parlour, and taking him by the hand quite tenderly. 'Lay your head well to the wind, and we'll fight through it. All you've got to do,' said the Captain, with the solemnity of a man who was delivering himself of one of the most precious practical tenets ever discovered by human wisdom, 'is to lay your head well to the wind, and we'll fight through it!'
Old Sol returned the pressure of his hand, and thanked him.
Captain Cuttle, then, with a gravity suitable to the nature of the occasion, put down upon the table the two tea-spoons and the sugar-tongs, the silver watch, and the ready money; and asked Mr Brogley, the broker, what the damage was.
'Come! What do you make of it?' said Captain Cuttle.
'Why, Lord help you!' returned the broker; 'you don't suppose that property's of any use, do you?'
'Why not?' inquired the Captain.
'Why? The amount's three hundred and seventy, odd,' replied the broker.
'Never mind,' returned the Captain, though he was evidently dismayed by the figures: 'all's fish that comes to your net, I suppose?'
'Certainly,' said Mr Brogley. 'But sprats ain't whales, you know.'
The philosophy of this observation seemed to strike the Captain. He ruminated for a minute; eyeing the broker, meanwhile, as a deep genius; and then called the Instrument-maker aside.
'Gills,' said Captain Cuttle, 'what's the bearings of this business? Who's the creditor?'
'Hush!' returned the old man. 'Come away. Don't speak before Wally. It's a matter of security for Wally's father - an old bond. I've paid a good deal of it, Ned, but the times are so bad with me that I can't do more just now. I've foreseen it, but I couldn't help it. Not a word before Wally, for all the world.'
'You've got some money, haven't you?' whispered the Captain.
'Yes, yes - oh yes- I've got some,' returned old Sol, first putting his hands into his empty pockets, and then squeezing his Welsh wig between them, as if he thought he might wring some gold out of it; 'but I - the little I have got, isn't convertible, Ned; it can't be got at. I have been trying to do something with it for Wally, and I'm old fashioned, and behind the time. It's here and there, and - and, in short, it's as good as nowhere,' said the old man, looking in bewilderment about him.
He had so much the air of a half-witted person who had been hiding his money in a variety of places, and had forgotten where, that the Captain followed his eyes, not without a faint hope that he might remember some few hundred pounds concealed up the chimney, or down in the cellar. But Solomon Gills knew better than that.
'I'm behind the time altogether, my dear Ned,' said Sol, in resigned despair, 'a long way. It's no use my lagging on so far behind it. The stock had better be sold - it's worth more than this debt - and I had better go and die somewhere, on the balance. I haven't any energy left. I don't understand things. This had better be the end of it. Let 'em sell the stock and take him down,' said the old man, pointing feebly to the wooden Midshipman, 'and let us both be broken up together.'
'And what d'ye mean to do with Wal'r?'said the Captain. 'There, there! Sit ye down, Gills, sit ye down, and let me think o' this. If I warn't a man on a small annuity, that was large enough till to-day, I hadn't need to think of it. But you only lay your head well to the wind,' said the Captain, again administering that unanswerable piece of consolation, 'and you're all right!'
Old Sol thanked him from his heart, and went and laid it against the back parlour fire-place instead.
Captain Cuttle walked up and down the shop for some time, cogitating profoundly, and bringing his bushy black eyebrows to bear so heavily on his nose, like clouds setting on a mountain, that Walter was afraid to offer any interruption to the current of his reflections. Mr Brogley, who was averse to being any constraint upon the party, and who had an ingenious cast of mind, went, softly whistling, among the stock; rattling weather-glasses, shaking compasses as if they were physic, catching up keys with loadstones, looking through telescopes, endeavouring to make himself acquainted with the use of the globes, setting parallel rulers astride on to his nose, and amusing himself with other philosophical transactions.
'Wal'r!' said the Captain at last. 'I've got it.'
'Have you, Captain Cuttle?' cried Walter, with great animation.
'Come this way, my lad,' said the Captain. 'The stock's the security. I'm another. Your governor's the man to advance money.'
'Mr Dombey!' faltered Walter.
The Captain nodded gravely. 'Look at him,' he said. 'Look at Gills. If they was to sell off these things now, he'd die of it. You know he would. We mustn't leave a stone unturned - and there's a stone for you.'
'A stone! - Mr Dombey!' faltered Walter.
'You run round to the office, first of all, and see if he's there,' said Captain Cuttle, clapping him on the back. 'Quick!'
Walter felt he must not dispute the command - a glance at his Uncle would have determined him if he had felt otherwise - and disappeared to execute it. He soon returned, out of breath, to say that Mr Dombey was not there. It was Saturday, and he had gone to Brighton.
'I tell you what, Wal'r!' said the Captain, who seemed to have prepared himself for this contingency in his absence. 'We'll go to Brighton. I'll back you, my boy. I'll back you, Wal'r. We'll go to Brighton by the afternoon's coach.'
If the application must be made to Mr Dombey at all, which was awful to think of, Walter felt that he would rather prefer it alone and unassisted, than backed by the personal influence of Captain Cuttle, to which he hardly thought Mr Dombey would attach much weight. But as the Captain appeared to be of quite another opinion, and was bent upon it, and as his friendship was too zealous and serious to be trifled with by one so much younger than himself, he forbore to hint the least objection. Cuttle, therefore, taking a hurried leave of Solomon Gills, and returning the ready money, the teaspoons, the sugar-tongs, and the silver watch, to his pocket - with a view, as Walter thought, with horror, to making a gorgeous impression on Mr Dombey - bore him off to the coach-office, with- out a minute's delay, and repeatedly assured him, on the road, that he would stick by him to the last.
 
就年轻的沃尔特•盖伊的性格来说，他原本强烈地喜爱浪漫的情趣和向往奇异的事迹；在舅舅老所罗门•吉尔斯的监护下，严酷的生活经验的水流并没有把他的这种性格冲淡多少；这就是他对弗洛伦斯跟善良的布朗太太的奇遇兴致勃勃地怀着异乎寻常的兴趣的原因。他在记忆中纵容它，珍惜它，特别是与他有关的那一部分，后来它终于成了他想象中的一个惯坏了的孩子，可以自行其是，随心所欲了。
老所尔与卡特尔船长每个星期天聚会时都要做一次他们的美梦，这样一来，这些事情和他本人在其中的参与就更具有一种令人神魂颠倒的魅力。很少有哪一个星期天，这两位高尚的朋友中的这一位或那一位不神秘地提到理查德•惠廷顿的。卡特尔船长甚至还买了一本相当古老的叙事曲，它主要是反映海员们的思想感情的，它和许多其他的歌曲书籍一起，挂在商业路上的冷清的墙上，飘动着书页，已经好久了；这本诗歌作品叙述了一位有出息的给船上装煤的年轻人跟一位“可爱的佩格姑娘”之间求爱与结婚的故事；这位佩格姑娘是纽卡斯尔①一艘煤船的船长（他同时也是船主之一）的有才能的女儿，卡特尔船长从这个激动人心的传说中，看到它与沃尔特和弗洛伦斯的情况有一种意味深长的、形而上学的相似关系；它使他感到十分兴奋，每逢生日或其他非宗教节日的喜庆日子，他都会在小后客厅里放开嗓子，把这首歌从头到尾唱完。在唱到“佩——格”这个词的时候，他还发出了令人惊奇的颤音；每个诗句都是用这个赞美女主人公的词来结尾的。
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①纽卡斯尔（Newcastle）：英国港市。
可是一位胸怀坦率、豁达大度、光明磊落的孩子并不很喜爱分析自己感情的性质，不论这种感情是多么强烈地支配着他；沃尔特要作出这样的判断也是困难的。他对他跟弗洛伦斯相遇的码头，对他们回家时经过的街道（虽然它们本身并没有令人销魂的地方）都怀着深厚的感情。他把那双在路上不时脱落的鞋子保存在他自己的房间里；有一天晚上他坐在小后客厅里，给想象中的善良的布朗太太画了肖像，画了整整一走廊。在那次值得纪念的事件发生以后，他的衣着也可能变得稍稍漂亮起来了；他在闲暇的时候，的确喜欢朝着董贝先生公馆坐落的那个市区走去，模模糊糊地希望在街上遇到小弗洛伦斯。可是所有这些思想感情都是孩子气的，天真烂漫的。弗洛伦斯是很漂亮的，爱慕漂亮的脸孔是件愉快的事情；弗洛伦斯是软弱无力，没有人保卫她的，想到他向她提供了保护与帮助是值得自豪的。弗洛伦斯是这世界上最感恩的小人儿，看到她脸上闪耀着热烈感激的光彩是使人高兴的。弗洛伦斯是被轻视和冷落的，他在心中对这位在她那沉闷、庄严的家中被看不起的孩子满怀着年轻人的兴趣。
沃尔特在街上脱下帽子向弗洛伦斯致意，弗洛伦斯则会停下来跟他握手，这样在一年当中发生过六、七次。威肯姆大嫂（她按照她悲观的性格来改变他的姓名，始终不变地把他叫做“年轻的格莱夫斯①”）知道他们相识的经历，对于这种情形已经十分习惯了，所以她对它丝毫也不注意。另一方面，尼珀姑娘是很盼望遇到这样的机会的，因为在她敏感的年轻的心灵中已对沃尔特英俊的外貌暗暗地产生了好感；她总爱相信，这种感情总是会得到回答的。
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①年轻的格莱夫斯（youngGraves）：在英文中，Graves一词的意义是坟墓。
因此，沃尔特非但没有忘记他跟弗洛伦斯的相识或模糊了它的印象，相反地，他记得愈来愈清楚了。至于它那传奇性的开始以及那些给予它别具一格的特色与兴味的细微情节，与其说他把它看成是与他有关的事实的一部分，倒不如说他把它们看成是很合乎他想象、决不会从他脑子中消失的有趣故事。在他看来，这些情节突出地衬托出弗洛伦斯，而不是他自己。有时他想（这时候他就走得很快），如果在他们第一次相遇之后的第二天他出去航海，在海上创造出奇迹，长久离别后回来的时候成了一位海军上将，全身服装像海豚那样闪耀着各种色彩，或者至少成了一位邮船船长，佩戴着闪闪发光、令人承受不住的肩章，然后不顾董贝先生的牙齿、领带和表链，与弗洛伦斯结婚（那时候她是一位美丽的年轻女人了），得意洋洋地把她带到某个有着蓝色海岸的地方去，那该是件多么美妙的事啊！可是这些奔放的幻想并没有把董贝父子公司营业所的铜牌擦亮成为一块金色希望的牌子或把灿烂的光辉照射到他们的肮脏的天窗上；当卡特尔船长与所尔舅舅谈论理查德•惠廷顿和他主人的女儿时，沃尔特觉得，他对他自己在董贝父子公司中真正的地位要比他们明白得多。
所以他一天天继续兴致勃勃、不辞劳苦、欢乐愉快地做着他应该做的事情，清楚地看到所尔舅舅和卡特尔船长充满希望的脸色，然而他自己却怀着上千种模糊不清、虚无缥缈的幻想；跟他的这些幻想相比，他们的幻想倒还存在着一些实现的可能性。这就是弗洛伦斯陪伴保罗到皮普钦那里去那段时间中他的情况；这时候他看上去比过去岁数大了一些，但大得不多，仍然是一位走路轻快、无忧无虑、不多思索的小伙子，就像他过去有一天在所尔舅舅和想象中的攻入敌船的船员们的前面，冲进客厅里的时候，以及当他给所尔舅舅照明去取那瓶马德拉白葡萄酒的时候一样。
“所尔舅舅，”沃尔特说道，“我觉得你身体不大好，你没有吃早饭。如果你再这样下去的话，那么我将给你请一位医生来。”
“他不能给我所需要的东西，我的孩子，”所尔舅舅说道，“如果他能的话，那么他至少有很好的经验——但他毕竟是不能给的。”
“你指什么，舅舅？是指顾客吗？”
“是的，”所罗门叹了一口气，回答道。“顾客就行。”
“真见鬼，舅舅！”沃尔特把他的早餐杯子卡嗒一声放下，在桌子上敲了一拳，说道，“当我看到人们整天一群群在街上走来走去，每分钟都有几十个人经过这个店铺的时候，我真想冲出去，扭住一个人的领口，拉他到店里来，一定让他拿出现钱，购买值五十镑的仪器。喂，您在门口看什
么？——”沃尔特继续说道，一边向一位头上撒了白粉的老先生喊道（他当然听不见），那老先生正在聚精会神地注视着一架船上用的望远镜。“那没有用，我也能那样看，进来把它买去吧！”
可是那位老先生满足了好奇心之后，不声不响地走开了。
“他走了！”沃尔特说道。“他们全都是这样。可是，舅舅——我说，所尔舅舅”——因为老人正在沉思，没有回答他第一次对他的招呼——“别垂头丧气，别没精打采，舅舅。当订货真来的时候，它们会大批大批地来，那时候你都没办法去完成它们的呢。”
“不论它们什么时候来，我都能全部完成的，我的孩子，”所罗门•吉尔斯回答道。“在我没有离开店铺之前，它们永远也不会到这里来了。”
“我说，舅舅！你真不应该这么说，你知道！”沃尔特劝说道。“别那么说了！”
老所尔努力装出一副高兴的神色，向桌子对面的他尽量愉快地微笑着。
“没有发生跟往常不同的什么事吧，是不是，舅舅？”沃尔特把两只胳膊肘支在茶盘上，身子向前弯过去，更加亲密、更加亲切地说道：“别对我瞒什么，舅舅，如果发生了什么事情，那么请把一切都告诉我。”
“没有，没有，没有，”老所尔回答道。“跟往常有什么不同的事吗？没有，没有，会发生跟往常不同的什么事情呢？”
沃尔特表示不大相信地摇摇头，作为回答。“这就是我想要知道的，”他说道，“可是你却问我！我将告诉你，舅舅，当我看到你这种样子的时候，我就会因为跟你住在一起而感到十分遗憾。”
老所尔不自觉地张开了眼睛。
“是的，虽然没有什么人能比我现在更幸福，而且我跟你在一起一直是幸福的，可是每当我看到你有什么心事的时候，我就会因为和你住在一起而感到十分遗憾。”
“我知道，我在这种时候有些沉闷，”所罗门温和地搓着手，说道。
“我想要说的是，所尔舅舅，”沃尔特把身子往前再弯过去一点，好拍拍他的肩膀，“这种时候我就觉得你应当有一位和善的、矮小的、胖乎乎的妻子，而不是我跟你坐在一起，给你倒茶；你知道，——她是一位贤惠的、能使你感到愉快的、和你情投意合的老太太，跟你正好相配；她知道怎样照顾你，让你心情舒畅。可是现在却是我在这里；我是一个很爱你的外甥（我相信我应当是！），可是我只是一个外甥；当你闷闷不乐，心绪不佳的时候，我就不能成为像她那样几年前就知道怎么做的伴侣了，虽然我相信，如果我能使你高兴起来，那么要我拿出多少钱来我都是愿意的。所以我说，每当我看到你有什么心事，而除了像我这样一个常常出漏子的粗鲁小伙子外，你没有一个更好的人在身旁的时候，我就感到很遗憾。我倒有意安慰安慰你，舅舅，可是我不知道该怎么办才好——不知道怎么办才好。”沃尔特重复说了一句，一边把身子向前再弯过去一些，好和他的舅舅握握手。
“沃利，我亲爱的孩子，”所罗门说道，“如果那位和我情投意合的、矮小的老太太在四十五年前就在这客厅里占据了她的位置，那么我也决不会像我现在这样喜欢你一样地喜欢她的。”
“我知道这一点，所尔舅舅，”沃尔特回答道。“上帝保佑你，我知道这一点。可是如果她跟你在一起，那么你有了不好对外人说的不称心的事情，你就不会承担它的全部负担了，因为她知道怎样让你把它们解脱掉的，而我就不知道了。”
“不，不，你知道的！”仪器制造商回答道。
“唔，那么发生了什么事情了呢，所尔舅舅？”沃尔特哄骗地说道。“说吧！发生了什么事情？”
所罗门•吉尔斯坚持说，没有发生什么事情，而且态度坚决，毫不改变，所以他的外甥没有法子，只好不太高明地假装相信他。
“我只想说一点，所尔舅舅，如果发生了什么——”
“可是没有发生什么，”所罗门说道。
“很好，”沃尔特说道。“那我就再也没有什么要说的了；巧得很，因为现在是我该去上班的时候了。我路过这里的时候，会顺便来看你的，看看你过得怎么样，舅舅。记住，舅舅！如果我发现你欺骗了我，那么我就再也不相信你了，再也不跟你讲低级职员卡克先生的事情了！”
所罗门•吉尔斯大笑着否认他能发现这样的事情；沃尔特脑子里盘旋着各种不切实际的发财致富的办法，好使木制海军军官候补生处于独立的地位，一边露出比平时更沉重的神色，向董贝父子公司的营业所走去。
在那些日子里，在比晓普斯盖特街的拐角上住着一位布罗格利先生，他是一位有许可证的经纪人和估价人，开设了一个店铺，店铺里离奇古怪地摆放着各种各样的旧家具，摆放和组合的方式都跟这些家具的用途完全不相称。几十张椅子钩挂在脸盆架上；脸盆架为难地在餐具柜的两侧保持住重心，以免倒下；餐具柜又支立在餐桌的不是恰当的一边；这些餐桌像做体操似地用脚顶住另一些餐桌的桌面；这些就是这些家具的最合理的安排。由盘盖、酒杯、圆酒瓶组成的宴席餐具通常散放在四柱的床架上，供它们的亲朋好友（如三、四副火钳和过道里的一盏灯）来享用。没有任何窗子属于它们的窗帘悬挂着，成了一张塞满小药瓶的五屉柜的遮护物；一块无家可归的炉边地毯离开它天然的伴侣炉子，在逆境中英勇地抵抗着刺骨的东风，它浑身哆嗦着，那忧伤的情调与一架钢琴的尖声怨诉倒很一致；那钢琴一天损失一根弦，正在消瘦下去，它那吵吵闹闹、精神错乱的脑袋对街上的喧声正作出微弱的反响。至于那指针永远停在一个地方、不会走动的钟表，似乎像他过去的主人的金钱状况一样，已经不能正常地运转了；这种钟表在布罗格利先生的店中经常是很多的，可以随意挑选；还有各种各样的镜子有时摆放得能使反映与折射出的形象比原形增大几倍，它们送入眼睛来的永远是一片破产与没落的景象。
布罗格利先生本人的眼睛经常是水汪汪的，脸孔是粉红色的，头发卷曲，块头很大，性格随和——因为凯乌斯•马略这样一类人是能够精神振作地坐在其他民族的迦太基的废墟上的①。他有时曾顺道到所罗门的店里来看看，问一问所罗门所经营的仪器方面的问题；沃尔特跟他熟了，在街上遇见时总要向他寒暄问好，然而这位经纪人与所罗门•吉尔斯也仅仅熟悉到这样的程度罢了，所以当沃尔特那天午前信守诺言，回到家中，看见布罗格利先生坐在后客厅里，双手插在衣袋中，帽子挂在门后的时候，感到相当惊奇。
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①凯乌斯•马略（CaiusMarius，公元前157—86年），曾七次当选为古罗马的执政官，他指挥非洲的战争时，勇猛顽强，用兵如神。公元前88年，他被迫逃出罗马，历经艰险，逃到非洲，曾在迦太基的废墟中避难。迦太基（Carthage）为古代著名大城市之一，相传为腓尼基人于公元前814年所建，今为突尼斯市郊区。
“唔，所尔舅舅！”沃尔特说道。那老人正沮丧地坐在桌子的另一边，眼镜居然很难得地戴在眼睛前面，而不是架在前额上。“你现在好吗？”
所罗门摇摇头，一只手向经纪人挥了挥，作为介绍他。
“发生什么事情了吗？”沃尔特屏息地问道。
“没有，没有，没有发生什么事情，”布罗格利先生说道。
“您别为这忧虑。”
沃尔特沉默而惊奇地把眼光从经纪人身上转移到他舅舅身上。
“事情是，”布罗格利先生说道，“这里有一张没有支付的票据。三百七十多镑，已经过期了。现在票据在我手里。”
“在您手里！”沃尔特往店铺里环视了一下，喊道。
“是的，”布罗格利先生用一种讲机密话的语气说道，同时点点头，仿佛他想劝告大家，每个人都应当觉得自己很好。“这是执行一件该办的事。事情仅仅如此而已。你别为这忧虑。我亲自到这里来，是因为我想悄悄地、和和气气地把这件事情了结了。您知道我，完全是私下的，一点也没有声张。”
“所尔舅舅！”沃尔特结结巴巴地说道。
“沃利，我的孩子，”他的舅舅回答道。“这是第一次。我从前从没有遇到过这样的不幸。我太老了，没法从头开始了。”他把眼镜又推到额上去（因为它已不能再掩盖他的情绪了），用一只手捂住脸孔，大声抽泣着，眼泪掉落在他的咖啡色的背心上。
“所尔舅舅！啊！请别这样！”沃尔特高声喊道；他看到老人哭泣，确实感到一阵恐怖。“看在上帝的分上，别这样！
布罗格利先生，我该怎么办？”
“我想建议您去找位朋友，”布罗格利先生说道，“跟他谈谈这件事情。”
“完全正确！”沃尔特急忙抓住一切机会，喊道。“当然该这么办！谢谢您。卡特尔船长就是我们所需要的人，舅舅。等着我，等我跑去找卡特尔船长。布罗格利先生，当我不在家的时候，请您照看一下我的舅舅，尽量安慰安慰他，好吗？不要灰心丧气，所尔舅舅。努力振作起精神，这才是个男子汉！”
沃尔特热情洋溢地说完了这些话，不顾老人上句不接下句地劝阻，迅猛地又冲出了店铺；他急忙跑到办公室，借口他舅舅突然病了，请求准假，然后火速地向卡特尔船长的住所进发。
当他沿着街道跑过去的时候，一切似乎都已改变了。像往常一样，手推车、大车、公共汽车、运货马车和行人混杂在一起，熙熙攘攘，发出了各种闹声，可是落到木制海军军官候补生身上的不幸使它们变得古怪与新奇。房屋与店铺跟它们平日的样子不同，正面有很大的字母写着布格罗利先生的付款通知单。这位经纪人似乎把教堂也掌握在手中了，因为它们的尖顶以一种不同寻常的气概升入了天空；甚至天空本身也改变了，也明显地参与了这件事情的执行。
卡特尔船长住在靠近印度造船厂的小运河的岸边；那里有一座旋桥，它不时旋开，让一些如同漫游巨怪般的船舰像搁浅了的海中怪兽一样，沿着街道冲游过去。当走向卡特尔船长住所的时候，从陆地到水上的逐步变化是奇妙有趣的。开始时是一些作为客栈附属物的旗杆高高耸立着；然后是现成服装店，店外悬挂着耿济岛①的黑色厚毛线衫，海员用的防水帽以及最紧窄和最宽松的帆布裤子。接着是生产锚和锚链的铁工厂，长柄的大铁锤整天叮叮当当地抡打着铁块。再下去是一排排房屋，房屋附近种植的红豆中间竖立着顶上有小风信标的桅杆。接下去是水沟，然后是截去树梢的柳树。再下去是更多的水沟。然后是一片片奇怪的脏水，由于上面有船，很难辨认出来。再下去，空气中散发着刨花的气味。所有其他行业都被制作桅、桨和滑车的行业和造船业排挤掉了。往下去，土地变得像沼泽一样低湿、泥泞，很不牢固。再下去，除了朗姆酒和糖的气味外，再也闻不到别的气味了。再往下，卡特尔船长的住所就近在您的眼前了。他住在二层楼，那是布里格广场上最高的一层。
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①耿济岛（IsleofGuernsey）：英国海峡中的一个岛。
船长是那些看去像木材的人们当中的一位，他们的衣服和身体好像是从一株橡树中一道砍削出来的，最活跃的想象力也几乎不可能把他们衣服中的任何一部分从身上分开，哪怕那是无关重要的一部分；因此，当沃尔特敲了门，船长立刻从他前面的小窗子当中的一个伸出头来招呼他的时候，他像平时一样，头上已经戴着那顶上了光的硬帽子，身上已经穿上那套蓝色的宽阔的外衣，还露出那像船帆一样的衬衫领子；沃尔特完全相信，他经常处于这种状态，仿佛船长是一只鸟，那些衣帽是他的羽毛似的。
“沃尔，我的孩子！”卡特尔船长说道。“做好准备，再敲一次。使劲敲，今天是洗衣服的日子。”
沃尔特急不可耐地用门环砰砰地猛敲着。
“很有劲！”卡特尔船长说道，然后立即把头缩了进去，仿佛他预料到一场夹带冰雹的暴风就要来临似的。
他没有错，因为一位寡居的太太以惊人的敏捷回答了这个召唤；她袖子卷到肩膀上，胳膊上沾满了肥皂泡，而且冒着雾腾腾的热气。她在看沃尔特之前先看了一下门环，然后用眼睛把他从头到脚打量了一下，说她很奇怪，门环居然还在门上，没有被他完全打落下来。
“就我所知，卡特尔船长在家里，”沃尔特和解地笑了一下，说道。
“他在家吗？”这位寡居的太太回答道。“原来——如此！”
“他刚才还跟我说话，”沃尔特急促地解释道。
“他跟您说话了吗？”寡居的太太回答道。“那么也许您可以向他转达麦克斯廷杰太太的敬意，告诉他，如果下一次要贬损他本人和他的住所的体面，从窗口对外讲话的话，那么就请他也下楼来开门，她将为此而感谢他。”麦克斯廷杰太太高声地说着，同时听听二层楼上对这会提出什么意见。
“夫人，”沃尔特说道，“如果您肯行个好，让我进去的话，那么我会对他说的。”
因为有一个木制的路障横放在门口，把他挡住了，那路障是为了防止小麦克斯廷杰在玩耍的时候，从台阶上滚下去而摆设在那里的。
“我希望，”麦克斯廷杰太太傲慢地说道，“一个能把我的门敲下的小子能够从这里跳过去。”可是当沃尔特以为这是允许他进去，因此跳了过去之后，麦克斯廷杰太太却立刻问道，一位英国妇女的家是不是她的堡垒？①它是不是可以容许“二流子”随意闯入？当沃尔特穿过洗衣服所形成的人造雾气（它使楼梯扶手粘粘糊糊，像出了汗似的），进到卡特尔船长的房间，看到这位先生正在门后埋伏着的时候，她仍纠缠不休地渴望在这两个问题上得到回答。
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①“一位英国男子的家是他的堡垒”（AnEnglishman′shouseishiscastle．）是英国法学家爱德华•科克爵士（SirEdwardCoke，1552—1634年，曾任民事法院的首席法官）在他的著作《英国法总论》（InstitutesoftheLawsofEngland）中所说的一句话，意为一位英国男子在他家中就处于法律威力所及的范围之外。麦克斯廷杰太太的问话就是从这句话引伸出来的。
“我从来不欠她一个便士，沃尔，”船长轻声说道，脸上仍明显地流露出恐怖的神色。“我对她和她的小孩子们做了许许多多的好事。可是有时她还是蛮不讲理。嘘！”
“我就要离开这里，卡特尔船长，”沃尔特说道。“别走，沃尔，”船长回答道。“我不论走到哪里，她都会把我找到的。请坐。吉尔斯好吗？”
船长戴着帽子，正在吃午饭：冷的羊腰子、黑啤酒和几个冒着热气的土豆。土豆是他自己煮的，他需要吃的时候，就从火炉前面的一只有柄的小平底锅中取出。吃饭的时候，他解下钩子，把一把小刀插进木制的插口里；他已经用这把小刀开始为沃尔特把一个土豆的皮剥去了。他的房间很小，充满了浓烈的吸烟草散发出的气味，但却十分温暖舒适。所有的东西都收藏了起来，仿佛这里每隔半小时就要发生一次地震似的。
“吉尔斯好吗？”船长问道。
沃尔特这时已经缓过气来，但却丧失了情绪——或者可以说是丧失了一种由于急速赶路而暂时振奋起来的情绪。他向问他的人望了一会儿，说道，“啊，卡特尔船长！”然后，就流出了眼泪。船长看到这种情景时的惊恐是不能用言语形容的。面对着这种情形，麦克斯廷杰太太已完全消失了。土豆和叉子从他手中掉下——如果可能的话，小刀也会掉下的——，他坐在那里凝视着这个孩子，仿佛他预料立刻就会听到，城里的土地已经裂开一个深坑，它已经把他的老朋友、他的咖啡色外衣、钮扣、精密计时表、眼镜以及一切都吞没了。
但是当沃尔特把事实真相告诉他之后，卡特尔船长沉思了片刻，就立刻非常活跃地行动起来。他从碗柜顶层隔板上的一个小锡罐中倒出他存有的全部现钱（总共是十三镑零半个克朗①），并把它们装进他的宽大的蓝色上衣的一个口袋中，接着他又把餐具箱子中所存有的东西充实到这个储藏所中。餐具箱子中所存有的是两只干瘪的、不像原形的茶匙和一副旧式的弯曲的方糖箱子。他又把他那只很大的、有双层外壳的银表从它安息的深处拉了出来，以便确信这个珍贵的物品完好无损；然后他把钩子重新拧紧到右腕上，拿起那根有好多节的手杖，嘱咐沃尔特动身。
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①克朗：旧时英国的硬币，一克朗等于五先令。
可是他在这种由于道德高尚而激发的兴奋中仍然记得，麦克斯廷杰太太可能在下面等待着，所以卡特尔船长最后犹豫起来，甚至还往窗子看了一眼，仿佛他脑子里闪出这样的念头：宁可从这个不寻常的出口逃走，也不要碰见他那个可怕的敌人；可是他决定采用计谋。
“沃尔，”船长胆怯地眨眨眼睛，说道，“你先走，我的孩子。当你走到走廊里的时候，你就大声喊道，‘再见，卡特尔船长，’再把门关上。然后你在街道拐角里等着我，直到我们见面为止。”
这些指示是预先知道敌人的策略才发出的，因为当沃尔特走下楼的时候，麦克斯廷杰太太像一个复仇的妖魔一样，从后面的小厨房中悄悄地溜了出来，但是没有像她原先期望的那样碰上船长，她只是再一次暗示了一下门环的事，就又悄悄地溜回厨房里去了。
大约过了五分钟光景，卡特尔船长才鼓起勇气来设法逃走；因为沃尔特在街道拐角等了好久，一直回头看看那座房屋，但却没有看到那顶上了光的硬帽子的任何影子。终于，船长像爆炸一样突然地冲出到门外，大步地向他走来，一次也没有回头去看；当他们一离开这条街的时候，他就假装吹口哨。
“舅舅的情绪很低沉吧，沃尔？”他们向前走去的时候，船长问道。
“我担心是这样。如果您今天早上看到他的话，那么您将永远忘不了他的那副神情。”
“快些走，沃尔，我的孩子，”船长加快步伐，回答道，“你这一辈子永远用这同样的步子走路。请查一下《教义问答》，并记住这句忠告。”
船长心中只顾想到所罗门•吉尔斯，也许也夹杂着他刚刚从麦克斯廷杰太太那里逃出来的回忆，所以没有再引用其他的话来帮助沃尔特来进一步完善他的德行。在他们到达老所尔的家门口之前，他们没有交谈其他的话；不幸的木制海军军官候补生手里拿着仪器在老所尔家的门口似乎正在向地平线眺望着，想要找一位朋友来帮助他摆脱困境。
“吉尔斯！”船长急忙跑到后客厅里，十分亲切地握着他的手。“昂起头来迎着风，我们将会战胜它。”船长像一个正在传达人类智慧所发现的最为宝贵、最切合实际的教义的人那样庄严地说道。“你应该做的一切，就是昂起头来迎着风，我们将会战胜它！”
老所尔紧紧地握着他的手，并且谢谢他。
然后卡特尔船长以在这种场合适宜的庄重的神态，在桌子上放下那两只茶匙，那副方糖箝子，那只银表和现钱，同时问经纪人布罗格利先生，需要偿付多少钱。
“听着，您看这些怎么样？”卡特尔船长问道。
“啊，上帝保佑您！”经纪人回答道；“难道您以为那些财产有什么用处吗？”
“为什么没有用处？”船长问道。
“为什么？总共是三百七十多镑，”经纪人回答道。
“不要紧，”船长回答道，虽然这个数字显然使他吃惊，“我想，跑进您网里来的都是鱼吧？”
“当然，”布罗格利先生说道。“但是您知道，西鲱鱼并不是鲸鱼。”
这句话的哲理似乎击中了船长。他沉思了一会儿；同时目不转睛地看着经纪人，像是在看一位思想深奥的天才似的。
然后他把仪器制造商叫到一旁。
“吉尔斯，”卡特尔船长说道，“这是什么样的一笔债务？
债权人是谁？”
“说轻一些！”老人回答道。“我们走开一些，别当着沃利的面说。这是为了给沃利的父亲担保而发生的事情。——一笔老债务。我已经偿付了好多，内德，可是我的日子过得很艰难，目前我不能再做什么了。我预见到这件事，可是我无能为力。无论如何，在沃利面前一句话也别说。”
“你有•一•些钱吧，是不是？”船长低声问道。
“是的，是的，——啊，是的。——我有一些，”老所尔回答道；他首先把手伸进两只空空的衣袋，然后用它们紧紧挤着他的威尔士假发，仿佛他以为他可以从那里挤出一些金子似的。“但是我，——我有一点钱是不能兑换成现钱的，内德；它是不能立刻拿来用的。我一直在想用它来给沃利做点什么事。可是我已过时了，落在时代后面了。这里那里都是钱，但同时——同时，总之，实际上等于什么地方都没有钱。”
老人手足无措地看着四周，说道。
他那样子很像是个神志恍惚的人，把钱藏在许多地方，但却忘记藏在哪里了，所以船长跟随着他的眼光，心里怀着一丝微弱的希望，也许他会记起来在上面的烟囱里或在下面的地窖里隐藏着几百镑。可是所罗门•吉尔斯心里很清楚，这是决不会发生的事情。
“我完全落在时代后面了，我亲爱的内德，”所尔万念俱灰地说道，“落后得很远了。我这样远远地落在它的后面是没有什么用处的。这些货物最好是卖掉——它的价值超过这笔债务——我最好是到一个什么地方去，死掉算了。我已经没有什么精力了。我不明白发生的事情，最好是让这告一结束。让他们把这些货物卖掉，并把他卸下来，”老人有气无力地指着木制海军军官候补生，说道，“让我们一起完蛋吧。”
“对沃尔特你打算怎么办呢？”船长问道。“好啦，好啦！请坐下，吉尔斯，请坐下，让我想一想这件事。如果我不是一位靠菲薄的年全过活的人（这年金要是积攒到今天将会是够大的一笔数字了），那么我现在就用不着想了。可是你只要昂起头来迎着风，”船长重新用这句无可辩驳的话来安慰他，“那么你就会一切都好的！”
老所尔由衷地感谢他，但他并没有昂起头来迎着风，而是走去把头靠在后客厅的壁炉上。
卡特尔船长在店铺里走来走去走了一些时候，深深地思考着，浓密的黑眉毛十分阴沉地低垂着，就像乌云笼罩在山峰上一样，因此沃尔特不敢去打断他的思路。布罗格利先生不愿意让这几个人过于紧张不安，同时他又是个足智多谋的人，所以就轻轻吹着口哨，在货物中间走来走去；他轻轻地敲敲睛雨表，又摇摇罗盘，仿佛这些罗盘是药水瓶似的；接着他又拿起带有天然磁石的钥匙，从望远镜里往外看，设法熟悉地球仪的用途，把平行规尺骑在鼻子上，又进行其他一些物理试验来开心取乐。
“沃尔！”船长终于说道。“我想到了！”
&ldq
Chapter 10
Containing the Sequel of the Midshipman's Disaster
Major Bagstock, after long and frequent observation of Paul, across Princess's Place, through his double-barrelled opera-glass; and after receiving many minute reports, daily, weekly, and monthly, on that subject, from the native who kept himself in constant communication with Miss Tox's maid for that purpose; came to the conclusion that Dombey, Sir, was a man to be known, and that J. B. was the boy to make his acquaintance.
Miss Tox, however, maintaining her reserved behaviour, and frigidly declining to understand the Major whenever he called (which he often did) on any little fishing excursion connected with this project, the Major, in spite of his constitutional toughness and slyness, was fain to leave the accomplishment of his desire in some measure to chance, 'which,' as he was used to observe with chuckles at his club, 'has been fifty to one in favour of Joey B., Sir, ever since his elder brother died of Yellow Jack in the West Indies.'
It was some time coming to his aid in the present instance, but it befriended him at last. When the dark servant, with full particulars, reported Miss Tox absent on Brighton service, the Major was suddenly touched with affectionate reminiscences of his friend Bill Bitherstone of Bengal, who had written to ask him, if he ever went that way, to bestow a call upon his only son. But when the same dark servant reported Paul at Mrs Pipchin's, and the Major, referring to the letter favoured by Master Bitherstone on his arrival in England - to which he had never had the least idea of paying any attention - saw the opening that presented itself, he was made so rabid by the gout, with which he happened to be then laid up, that he threw a footstool at the dark servant in return for his intelligence, and swore he would be the death of the rascal before he had done with him: which the dark servant was more than half disposed to believe.
At length the Major being released from his fit, went one Saturday growling down to Brighton, with the native behind him; apostrophizing Miss Tox all the way, and gloating over the prospect of carrying by storm the distinguished friend to whom she attached so much mystery, and for whom she had deserted him,
'Would you, Ma'am, would you!' said the Major, straining with vindictiveness, and swelling every already swollen vein in his head. 'Would you give Joey B. the go-by, Ma'am? Not yet, Ma'am, not yet! Damme, not yet, Sir. Joe is awake, Ma'am. Bagstock is alive, Sir. J. B. knows a move or two, Ma'am. Josh has his weather-eye open, Sir. You'll find him tough, Ma'am. Tough, Sir, tough is Joseph. Tough, and de-vilish sly!'
And very tough indeed Master Bitherstone found him, when he took that young gentleman out for a walk. But the Major, with his complexion like a Stilton cheese, and his eyes like a prawn's, went roving about, perfectly indifferent to Master Bitherstone's amusement, and dragging Master Bitherstone along, while he looked about him high and low, for Mr Dombey and his children.
In good time the Major, previously instructed by Mrs Pipchin, spied out Paul and Florence, and bore down upon them; there being a stately gentleman (Mr Dombey, doubtless) in their company. Charging with Master Bitherstone into the very heart of the little squadron, it fell out, of course, that Master Bitherstone spoke to his fellow-sufferers. Upon that the Major stopped to notice and admire them; remembered with amazement that he had seen and spoken to them at his friend Miss Tox's in Princess's Place; opined that Paul was a devilish fine fellow, and his own little friend; inquired if he remembered Joey B. the Major; and finally, with a sudden recollection of the conventionalities of life, turned and apologised to Mr Dombey.
'But my little friend here, Sir,' said the Major, 'makes a boy of me again: An old soldier, Sir - Major Bagstock, at your service - is not ashamed to confess it.' Here the Major lifted his hat. 'Damme, Sir,' cried the Major with sudden warmth, 'I envy you.' Then he recollected himself, and added, 'Excuse my freedom.'
Mr Dombey begged he wouldn't mention it.
'An old campaigner, Sir,' said the Major, 'a smoke-dried, sun-burnt, used-up, invalided old dog of a Major, Sir, was not afraid of being condemned for his whim by a man like Mr Dombey. I have the honour of addressing Mr Dombey, I believe?'
'I am the present unworthy representative of that name, Major,' returned Mr Dombey.
'By G-, Sir!' said the Major, 'it's a great name. It's a name, Sir,' said the Major firmly, as if he defied Mr Dombey to contradict him, and would feel it his painful duty to bully him if he did, 'that is known and honoured in the British possessions abroad. It is a name, Sir, that a man is proud to recognise. There is nothing adulatory in Joseph Bagstock, Sir. His Royal Highness the Duke of York observed on more than one occasion, "there is no adulation in Joey. He is a plain old soldier is Joe. He is tough to a fault is Joseph:" but it's a great name, Sir. By the Lord, it's a great name!' said the Major, solemnly.
'You are good enough to rate it higher than it deserves, perhaps, Major,' returned Mr Dombey.
'No, Sir,' said the Major, in a severe tone. No, Mr Dombey, let us understand each other. That is not the Bagstock vein, Sir. You don't know Joseph B. He is a blunt old blade is Josh. No flattery in him, Sir. Nothing like it.'
Mr Dombey inclined his head, and said he believed him to be in earnest, and that his high opinion was gratifying.
'My little friend here, Sir,' croaked the Major, looking as amiably as he could, on Paul, 'will certify for Joseph Bagstock that he is a thorough-going, down-right, plain-spoken, old Trump, Sir, and nothing more. That boy, Sir,' said the Major in a lower tone, 'will live in history. That boy, Sir, is not a common production. Take care of him, Mr Dombey.'
Mr Dombey seemed to intimate that he would endeavour to do so.
'Here is a boy here, Sir,' pursued the Major, confidentially, and giving him a thrust with his cane. 'Son of Bitherstone of Bengal. Bill Bitherstone formerly of ours. That boy's father and myself, Sir, were sworn friends. Wherever you went, Sir, you heard of nothing but Bill Bitherstone and Joe Bagstock. Am I blind to that boy's defects? By no means. He's a fool, Sir.'
Mr Dombey glanced at the libelled Master Bitherstone, of whom he knew at least as much as the Major did, and said, in quite a complacent manner, 'Really?'
'That is what he is, sir,' said the Major. 'He's a fool. Joe Bagstock never minces matters. The son of my old friend Bill Bitherstone, of Bengal, is a born fool, Sir.' Here the Major laughed till he was almost black. 'My little friend is destined for a public school,' I' presume, Mr Dombey?' said the Major when he had recovered.
'I am not quite decided,' returned Mr Dombey. 'I think not. He is delicate.'
'If he's delicate, Sir,' said the Major, 'you are right. None but the tough fellows could live through it, Sir, at Sandhurst. We put each other to the torture there, Sir. We roasted the new fellows at a slow fire, and hung 'em out of a three pair of stairs window, with their heads downwards. Joseph Bagstock, Sir, was held out of the window by the heels of his boots, for thirteen minutes by the college clock'
The Major might have appealed to his countenance in corroboration of this story. It certainly looked as if he had hung out a little too long.
'But it made us what we were, Sir,' said the Major, settling his shirt frill. 'We were iron, Sir, and it forged us. Are you remaining here, Mr Dombey?'
'I generally come down once a week, Major,' returned that gentleman. 'I stay at the Bedford.'
'I shall have the honour of calling at the Bedford, Sir, if you'll permit me,' said the Major. 'Joey B., Sir, is not in general a calling man, but Mr Dombey's is not a common name. I am much indebted to my little friend, Sir, for the honour of this introduction.'
Mr Dombey made a very gracious reply; and Major Bagstock, having patted Paul on the head, and said of Florence that her eyes would play the Devil with the youngsters before long - 'and the oldsters too, Sir, if you come to that,' added the Major, chuckling very much - stirred up Master Bitherstone with his walking-stick, and departed with that young gentleman, at a kind of half-trot; rolling his head and coughing with great dignity, as he staggered away, with his legs very wide asunder.
In fulfilment of his promise, the Major afterwards called on Mr Dombey; and Mr Dombey, having referred to the army list, afterwards called on the Major. Then the Major called at Mr Dombey's house in town; and came down again, in the same coach as Mr Dombey. In short, Mr Dombey and the Major got on uncommonly well together, and uncommonly fast: and Mr Dombey observed of the Major, to his sister, that besides being quite a military man he was really something more, as he had a very admirable idea of the importance of things unconnected with his own profession.
At length Mr Dombey, bringing down Miss Tox and Mrs Chick to see the children, and finding the Major again at Brighton, invited him to dinner at the Bedford, and complimented Miss Tox highly, beforehand, on her neighbour and acquaintance.
'My dearest Louisa,' said Miss Tox to Mrs Chick, when they were alone together, on the morning of the appointed day, 'if I should seem at all reserved to Major Bagstock, or under any constraint with him, promise me not to notice it.'
'My dear Lucretia,' returned Mrs Chick, 'what mystery is involved in this remarkable request? I must insist upon knowing.'
'Since you are resolved to extort a confession from me, Louisa,' said Miss Tox instantly, 'I have no alternative but to confide to you that the Major has been particular.'
'Particular!' repeated Mrs Chick.
'The Major has long been very particular indeed, my love, in his attentions,' said Miss Tox, 'occasionally they have been so very marked, that my position has been one of no common difficulty.'
'Is he in good circumstances?' inquired Mrs Chick.
'I have every reason to believe, my dear - indeed I may say I know,' returned Miss Tox, 'that he is wealthy. He is truly military, and full of anecdote. I have been informed that his valour, when he was in active service, knew no bounds. I am told that he did all sorts of things in the Peninsula, with every description of fire-arm; and in the East and West Indies, my love, I really couldn't undertake to say what he did not do.'
'Very creditable to him indeed,' said Mrs Chick, 'extremely so; and you have given him no encouragement, my dear?'
'If I were to say, Louisa,' replied Miss Tox, with every demonstration of making an effort that rent her soul, 'that I never encouraged Major Bagstock slightly, I should not do justice to the friendship which exists between you and me. It is, perhaps, hardly in the nature of woman to receive such attentions as the Major once lavished upon myself without betraying some sense of obligation. But that is past - long past. Between the Major and me there is now a yawning chasm, and I will not feign to give encouragement, Louisa, where I cannot give my heart. My affections,' said Miss Tox - 'but, Louisa, this is madness!' and departed from the room.
All this Mrs Chick communicated to her brother before dinner: and it by no means indisposed Mr Dombey to receive the Major with unwonted cordiality. The Major, for his part, was in a state of plethoric satisfaction that knew no bounds: and he coughed, and choked, and chuckled, and gasped, and swelled, until the waiters seemed positively afraid of him.
'Your family monopolises Joe's light, Sir,' said the Major, when he had saluted Miss Tox. 'Joe lives in darkness. Princess's Place is changed into Kamschatka in the winter time. There is no ray of sun, Sir, for Joey B., now.'
'Miss Tox is good enough to take a great deal of interest in Paul, Major,' returned Mr Dombey on behalf of that blushing virgin.
'Damme Sir,' said the Major, 'I'm jealous of my little friend. I'm pining away Sir. The Bagstock breed is degenerating in the forsaken person of old Joe.' And the Major, becoming bluer and bluer and puffing his cheeks further and further over the stiff ridge of his tight cravat, stared at Miss Tox, until his eyes seemed as if he were at that moment being overdone before the slow fire at the military college.
Notwithstanding the palpitation of the heart which these allusions occasioned her, they were anything but disagreeable to Miss Tox, as they enabled her to be extremely interesting, and to manifest an occasional incoherence and distraction which she was not at all unwilling to display. The Major gave her abundant opportunities of exhibiting this emotion: being profuse in his complaints, at dinner, of her desertion of him and Princess's Place: and as he appeared to derive great enjoyment from making them, they all got on very well.
None the worse on account of the Major taking charge of the whole conversation, and showing as great an appetite in that respect as in regard of the various dainties on the table, among which he may be almost said to have wallowed: greatly to the aggravation of his inflammatory tendencies. Mr Dombey's habitual silence and reserve yielding readily to this usurpation, the Major felt that he was coming out and shining: and in the flow of spirits thus engendered, rang such an infinite number of new changes on his own name that he quite astonished himself. In a word, they were all very well pleased. The Major was considered to possess an inexhaustible fund of conversation; and when he took a late farewell, after a long rubber, Mr Dombey again complimented the blushing Miss Tox on her neighbour and acquaintance.
But all the way home to his own hotel, the Major incessantly said to himself, and of himself, 'Sly, Sir - sly, Sir - de-vil-ish sly!' And when he got there, sat down in a chair, and fell into a silent fit of laughter, with which he was sometimes seized, and which was always particularly awful. It held him so long on this occasion that the dark servant, who stood watching him at a distance, but dared not for his life approach, twice or thrice gave him over for lost. His whole form, but especially his face and head, dilated beyond all former experience; and presented to the dark man's view, nothing but a heaving mass of indigo. At length he burst into a violent paroxysm of coughing, and when that was a little better burst into such ejaculations as the following:
'Would you, Ma'am, would you? Mrs Dombey, eh, Ma'am? I think not, Ma'am. Not while Joe B. can put a spoke in your wheel, Ma'am. J. B.'s even with you now, Ma'am. He isn't altogether bowled out, yet, Sir, isn't Bagstock. She's deep, Sir, deep, but Josh is deeper. Wide awake is old Joe - broad awake, and staring, Sir!' There was no doubt of this last assertion being true, and to a very fearful extent; as it continued to be during the greater part of that night, which the Major chiefly passed in similar exclamations, diversified with fits of coughing and choking that startled the whole house.
It was on the day after this occasion (being Sunday) when, as Mr Dombey, Mrs Chick, and Miss Tox were sitting at breakfast, still eulogising the Major, Florence came running in: her face suffused with a bright colour, and her eyes sparkling joyfully: and cried,
'Papa! Papa! Here's Walter! and he won't come in.'
'Who?' cried Mr Dombey. 'What does she mean? What is this?'
'Walter, Papa!' said Florence timidly; sensible of having approached the presence with too much familiarity. 'Who found me when I was lost.'
'Does she mean young Gay, Louisa?' inquired Mr Dombey, knitting his brows. 'Really, this child's manners have become very boisterous. She cannot mean young Gay, I think. See what it is, will you?'
Mrs Chick hurried into the passage, and returned with the information that it was young Gay, accompanied by a very strange-looking person; and that young Gay said he would not take the liberty of coming in, hearing Mr Dombey was at breakfast, but would wait until Mr Dombey should signify that he might approach.
'Tell the boy to come in now,' said Mr Dombey. 'Now, Gay, what is the matter? Who sent you down here? Was there nobody else to come?'
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' returned Walter. 'I have not been sent. I have been so bold as to come on my own account, which I hope you'll pardon when I mention the cause.
But Mr Dombey, without attending to what he said, was looking impatiently on either side of him (as if he were a pillar in his way) at some object behind.
'What's that?' said Mr Dombey. 'Who is that? I think you have made some mistake in the door, Sir.'
'Oh, I'm very sorry to intrude with anyone, Sir,' cried Walter, hastily: 'but this is - this is Captain Cuttle, Sir.'
'Wal'r, my lad,' observed the Captain in a deep voice: 'stand by!'
At the same time the Captain, coming a little further in, brought out his wide suit of blue, his conspicuous shirt-collar, and his knobby nose in full relief, and stood bowing to Mr Dombey, and waving his hook politely to the ladies, with the hard glazed hat in his one hand, and a red equator round his head which it had newly imprinted there.
Mr Dombey regarded this phenomenon with amazement and indignation, and seemed by his looks to appeal to Mrs Chick and Miss Tox against it. Little Paul, who had come in after Florence, backed towards Miss Tox as the Captain waved his book, and stood on the defensive.
'Now, Gay,' said Mr Dombey. 'What have you got to say to me?'
Again the Captain observed, as a general opening of the conversation that could not fail to propitiate all parties, 'Wal'r, standby!'
'I am afraid, Sir,' began Walter, trembling, and looking down at the ground, 'that I take a very great liberty in coming - indeed, I am sure I do. I should hardly have had the courage to ask to see you, Sir, even after coming down, I am afraid, if I had not overtaken Miss Dombey, and - '
'Well!' said Mr Dombey, following his eyes as he glanced at the attentive Florence, and frowning unconsciously as she encouraged him with a smile. 'Go on, if you please.'
'Ay, ay,' observed the Captain, considering it incumbent on him, as a point of good breeding, to support Mr Dombey. 'Well said! Go on, Wal'r.'
Captain Cuttle ought to have been withered by the look which Mr Dombey bestowed upon him in acknowledgment of his patronage. But quite innocent of this, he closed one eye in reply, and gave Mr Dombey to understand, by certain significant motions of his hook, that Walter was a little bashful at first, and might be expected to come out shortly.
'It is entirely a private and personal matter, that has brought me here, Sir,' continued Walter, faltering, 'and Captain Cuttle
'Here!' interposed the Captain, as an assurance that he was at hand, and might be relied upon.
'Who is a very old friend of my poor Uncle's, and a most excellent man, Sir,' pursued Walter, raising his eyes with a look of entreaty in the Captain's behalf, 'was so good as to offer to come with me, which I could hardly refuse.'
'No, no, no;' observed the Captain complacently. 'Of course not. No call for refusing. Go on, Wal'r.'
'And therefore, Sir,' said Walter, venturing to meet Mr Dombey's eye, and proceeding with better courage in the very desperation of the case, now that there was no avoiding it, 'therefore I have come, with him, Sir, to say that my poor old Uncle is in very great affliction and distress. That, through the gradual loss of his business, and not being able to make a payment, the apprehension of which has weighed very heavily upon his mind, months and months, as indeed I know, Sir, he has an execution in his house, and is in danger of losing all he has, and breaking his heart. And that if you would, in your kindness, and in your old knowledge of him as a respectable man, do anything to help him out of his difficulty, Sir, we never could thank you enough for it.'
Walter's eyes filled with tears as he spoke; and so did those of Florence. Her father saw them glistening, though he appeared to look at Walter only.
'It is a very large sum, Sir,' said Walter. 'More than three hundred pounds. My Uncle is quite beaten down by his misfortune, it lies so heavy on him; and is quite unable to do anything for his own relief. He doesn't even know yet, that I have come to speak to you. You would wish me to say, Sir,' added Walter, after a moment's hesitation, 'exactly what it is I want. I really don't know, Sir. There is my Uncle's stock, on which I believe I may say, confidently, there are no other demands, and there is Captain Cuttle, who would wish to be security too. I - I hardly like to mention,' said Walter, 'such earnings as mine; but if you would allow them - accumulate - payment - advance - Uncle - frugal, honourable, old man.' Walter trailed off, through these broken sentences, into silence: and stood with downcast head, before his employer.
Considering this a favourable moment for the display of the valuables, Captain Cuttle advanced to the table; and clearing a space among the breakfast-cups at Mr Dombey's elbow, produced the silver watch, the ready money, the teaspoons, and the sugar-tongs; and piling them up into a heap that they might look as precious as possible, delivered himself of these words:
'Half a loaf's better than no bread, and the same remark holds good with crumbs. There's a few. Annuity of one hundred pound premium also ready to be made over. If there is a man chock full of science in the world, it's old Sol Gills. If there is a lad of promise - one flowing,' added the Captain, in one of his happy quotations, 'with milk and honey - it's his nevy!'
The Captain then withdrew to his former place, where he stood arranging his scattered locks with the air of a man who had given the finishing touch to a difficult performance.
When Walter ceased to speak, Mr Dombey's eyes were attracted to little Paul, who, seeing his sister hanging down her head and silently weeping in her commiseration for the distress she had heard described, went over to her, and tried to comfort her: looking at Walter and his father as he did so, with a very expressive face. After the momentary distraction of Captain Cuttle's address, which he regarded with lofty indifference, Mr Dombey again turned his eyes upon his son, and sat steadily regarding the child, for some moments, in silence.
'What was this debt contracted for?' asked Mr Dombey, at length. 'Who is the creditor?'
'He don't know,' replied the Captain, putting his hand on Walter's shoulder. 'I do. It came of helping a man that's dead now, and that's cost my friend Gills many a hundred pound already. More particulars in private, if agreeable.'
'People who have enough to do to hold their own way,' said Mr Dombey, unobservant of the Captain's mysterious signs behind Walter, and still looking at his son, 'had better be content with their own obligations and difficulties, and not increase them by engaging for other men. It is an act of dishonesty and presumption, too,' said Mr Dombey, sternly; 'great presumption; for the wealthy could do no more. Paul, come here!'
The child obeyed: and Mr Dombey took him on his knee.
'If you had money now - ' said Mr Dombey. 'Look at me!'
Paul, whose eyes had wandered to his sister, and to Walter, looked his father in the face.
'If you had money now,' said Mr Dombey; 'as much money as young Gay has talked about; what would you do?'
'Give it to his old Uncle,' returned Paul.
'Lend it to his old Uncle, eh?' retorted Mr Dombey. 'Well! When you are old enough, you know, you will share my money, and we shall use it together.'
'Dombey and Son,' interrupted Paul, who had been tutored early in the phrase.
'Dombey and Son,' repeated his father. 'Would you like to begin to be Dombey and Son, now, and lend this money to young Gay's Uncle?'
'Oh! if you please, Papa!' said Paul: 'and so would Florence.'
'Girls,' said Mr Dombey, 'have nothing to do with Dombey and Son. Would you like it?'
'Yes, Papa, yes!'
'Then you shall do it,' returned his father. 'And you see, Paul,' he added, dropping his voice, 'how powerful money is, and how anxious people are to get it. Young Gay comes all this way to beg for money, and you, who are so grand and great, having got it, are going to let him have it, as a great favour and obligation.'
Paul turned up the old face for a moment, in which there was a sharp understanding of the reference conveyed in these words: but it was a young and childish face immediately afterwards, when he slipped down from his father's knee, and ran to tell Florence not to cry any more, for he was going to let young Gay have the money.
Mr Dombey then turned to a side-table, and wrote a note and sealed it. During the interval, Paul and Florence whispered to Walter, and Captain Cuttle beamed on the three, with such aspiring and ineffably presumptuous thoughts as Mr Dombey never could have believed in. The note being finished, Mr Dombey turned round to his former place, and held it out to Walter.
'Give that,' he said, 'the first thing to-morrow morning, to Mr Carker. He will immediately take care that one of my people releases your Uncle from his present position, by paying the amount at issue; and that such arrangements are made for its repayment as may be consistent with your Uncle's circumstances. You will consider that this is done for you by Master Paul.'
Walter, in the emotion of holding in his hand the means of releasing his good Uncle from his trouble, would have endeavoured to express something of his gratitude and joy. But Mr Dombey stopped him short.
'You will consider that it is done,' he repeated, 'by Master Paul. I have explained that to him, and he understands it. I wish no more to be said.'
As he motioned towards the door, Walter could only bow his head and retire. Miss Tox, seeing that the Captain appeared about to do the same, interposed.
'My dear Sir,' she said, addressing Mr Dombey, at whose munificence both she and Mrs Chick were shedding tears copiously; 'I think you have overlooked something. Pardon me, Mr Dombey, I think, in the nobility of your character, and its exalted scope, you have omitted a matter of detail.'
'Indeed, Miss Tox!' said Mr Dombey.
'The gentleman with the - Instrument,' pursued Miss Tox, glancing at Captain Cuttle, 'has left upon the table, at your elbow - '
'Good Heaven!' said Mr Dombey, sweeping the Captain's property from him, as if it were so much crumb indeed. 'Take these things away. I am obliged to you, Miss Tox; it is like your usual discretion. Have the goodness to take these things away, Sir!'
Captain Cuttle felt he had no alternative but to comply. But he was so much struck by the magnanimity of Mr Dombey, in refusing treasures lying heaped up to his hand, that when he had deposited the teaspoons and sugar-tongs in one pocket, and the ready money in another, and had lowered the great watch down slowly into its proper vault, he could not refrain from seizing that gentleman's right hand in his own solitary left, and while he held it open with his powerful fingers, bringing the hook down upon its palm in a transport of admiration. At this touch of warm feeling and cold iron, Mr Dombey shivered all over.
Captain Cuttle then kissed his hook to the ladies several times, with great elegance and gallantry; and having taken a particular leave of Paul and Florence, accompanied Walter out of the room. Florence was running after them in the earnestness of her heart, to send some message to old Sol, when Mr Dombey called her back, and bade her stay where she was.
'Will you never be a Dombey, my dear child!' said Mrs Chick, with pathetic reproachfulness.
'Dear aunt,' said Florence. 'Don't be angry with me. I am so thankful to Papa!'
She would have run and thrown her arms about his neck if she had dared; but as she did not dare, she glanced with thankful eyes towards him, as he sat musing; sometimes bestowing an uneasy glance on her, but, for the most part, watching Paul, who walked about the room with the new-blown dignity of having let young Gay have the money.
And young Gay - Walter- what of him?
He was overjoyed to purge the old man's hearth from bailiffs and brokers, and to hurry back to his Uncle with the good tidings. He was overjoyed to have it all arranged and settled next day before noon; and to sit down at evening in the little back parlour with old Sol and Captain Cuttle; and to see the Instrument-maker already reviving, and hopeful for the future, and feeling that the wooden Midshipman was his own again. But without the least impeachment of his gratitude to Mr Dombey, it must be confessed that Walter was humbled and cast down. It is when our budding hopes are nipped beyond recovery by some rough wind, that we are the most disposed to picture to ourselves what flowers they might have borne, if they had flourished; and now, when Walter found himself cut off from that great Dombey height, by the depth of a new and terrible tumble, and felt that all his old wild fancies had been scattered to the winds in the fall, he began to suspect that they might have led him on to harmless visions of aspiring to Florence in the remote distance of time.
The Captain viewed the subject in quite a different light. He appeared to entertain a belief that the interview at which he had assisted was so very satisfactory and encouraging, as to be only a step or two removed from a regular betrothal of Florence to Walter; and that the late transaction had immensely forwarded, if not thoroughly established, the Whittingtonian hopes. Stimulated by this conviction, and by the improvement in the spirits of his old friend, and by his own consequent gaiety, he even attempted, in favouring them with the ballad of 'Lovely Peg' for the third time in one evening, to make an extemporaneous substitution of the name 'Florence;' but finding this difficult, on account of the word Peg invariably rhyming to leg (in which personal beauty the original was described as having excelled all competitors), he hit upon the happy thought of changing it to Fle-e-eg; which he accordingly did, with an archness almost supernatural, and a voice quite vociferous, notwithstanding that the time was close at band when he must seek the abode of the dreadful Mrs MacStinger.
That same evening the Major was diffuse at his club, on the subject of his friend Dombey in the City. 'Damme, Sir,' said the Major, 'he's a prince, is my friend Dombey in the City. I tell you what, Sir. If you had a few more men among you like old Joe Bagstock and my friend Dombey in the City, Sir, you'd do!'
 
白格斯托克少校通过他的看戏用的双筒小望远镜，越过公主广场对保罗进行了长久与频繁的观察之后，在每天、每周、每月从本地人（他为了这个目的与托克斯小姐的女仆经常交往）那里得到有关这个问题的许多详细的报告之后，得出结论说，董贝先生是一位值得结识的人，乔•白是一位设法要与他结识的后生。
可是托克斯小姐一直保持着疏远的态度，少校每次为了这个目的对她进行摸底，想从她那里哄骗出一些有关的情况（他时常这样做）时，她都冷淡地表示她不想弄明白他的意思，所以少校虽然生性坚强不屈，非常狡猾，也不得不把实现他的愿望这件事多少听随机会去摆布了。“先生，”他常常在俱乐部里谈到他的机会时，吃吃地笑着说，“自从他的哥哥在西印度群岛因为黄热病死了之后，五十比一的机会是对乔埃•白有利的。”
这一次是过了好些时候，机会才来帮助他的，但它终于对他亲近了，当黑皮肤的仆人详详细细地报告说，托克斯小姐有事到布赖顿去了，少校突然感情深厚地回忆起他的孟加拉①朋友比尔•比瑟斯通；比瑟斯通曾经写信给他，如果他有便去布赖顿那一带的话，那就请麻烦他去看一下他的独生子。当这同一位黑皮肤的仆人报告说，保罗住在皮普钦太太那里的时候，少校查看了一下比瑟斯通少爷到达英国以后寄给他的信——过去他从来没想过要把它当一回什么事——，看到好机会已经自己送上门来了；可是那时候他因为患痛风病，正躺在床上疗养，痛风病发作时他狂怒得把一只脚凳向黑仆人扔了过去，来报答他所提供的消息，并发誓说，在他自己死去之前，他要把这无赖弄死。黑仆人非常相信这一点。
终于，少校摆脱了痛风病发作的痛苦，在一个星期六，在本地人尾随之下，骂骂咧咧地到布赖顿去了；一路上他与托克斯小姐谈着话，幸灾乐祸地想像着他以突然袭击的方式把她那位高贵的朋友夺到手中的情景（她曾经把她的那位朋友弄得那么神秘兮兮，而且也是为了他她才把少校抛弃的）。
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①孟加拉（Bengal）：当时全属于印度。
“您是不是，夫人，您是不是，”少校说道；他由于怀着报复的情绪紧绷着脸，头上每一根早已发涨的血管涨得更粗了，“您是不是要向乔埃•白告别了，夫人？还没到时候呢，夫人，还没到时候！他妈的，还没到时候呢，先生。乔埃没有睡去，夫人。白格斯托克还活着，先生。乔•白是精明的，夫人。乔埃时时警惕着，先生。您会看到，他是坚强不屈的，夫人，坚强不屈，先生，坚强不屈的就是约瑟夫，坚强不屈，而且像魔鬼般地狡猾！”
当他领着比瑟斯通少爷出去散步的时候，这位年轻人看到他的确是很坚强不屈的。少校四处游逛着，脸色像斯蒂尔顿干酪①一样，眼睛像对虾的一样，完全不考虑比瑟斯通少爷的乐趣。当他上下张望，寻找董贝先生和他的孩子们的时候，他把比瑟斯通少爷硬拽着走。
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①斯蒂尔顿干酪（Stiltoncheese）：英国产干酪，以亨丁顿郡一村庄命名，乳黄色，带有青霉菌芽胞蓝绿色花纹。正因为带有蓝绿色的花纹，所以说少校的脸色像它。
由于皮普钦太太事先进行过指点，所以少校及时地侦察到了保罗和弗洛伦斯，并且迅速地向他们走近。有一位庄严的绅士跟他们在一起，他无疑就是董贝先生。当他和比瑟斯通少爷闯进这一小群人中间时，结果自然是比瑟斯通少爷跟他那些同样遭难受罪的伴侣们谈起话来。少校在后面停下脚步，注意地看着他们并称赞着他们；他表示惊奇地记起来，他曾经在公主广场他的朋友托克斯小姐的家里看见过他们，跟他们说过话；他说，保罗是一个非常可爱的孩子，是他自己的小朋友；又问他是否记得乔埃•白少校，最后，他突然记起了习俗惯例应有的礼节，就转过身去，向董贝先生道歉。
“可是我在这里的小朋友又使我变成一个孩子了，先生，”少校说道。“一位老兵承认这一点并不感到难为情，先生，他是白格斯托克少校，随时愿意为您效劳；”少校这时脱下帽子敬礼。“他妈的，先生，”少校突然热情地喊道，“我妒嫉您。”
然后他镇静下来，补充了一句，“请原谅我的放肆。”
董贝先生请他别这么客气。
“一位老兵，先生，”少校说道，“一条被烟熏过，被太阳晒黑的、精疲力尽、因伤病而退伍的少校老狗是不怕像董贝先生这样的人指责他忽起的念头的。我想我能荣幸跟董贝先生交谈几句吗？”
“现在我就是姓我们这个姓的家族的卑贱的代表，少校，”
董贝先生回答道。
“可以对着上帝发誓，先生，”少校说道，“这是个伟大的姓，”少校坚决地说道，仿佛他挑起董贝先生来反驳他，而如果董贝先生真的那么做了，那么他就会感到他负有痛苦的责任来争个高低，让他过不去似的，“这是个在不列颠海外领地中享有声望与尊敬的姓。人们以姓这个姓而感到自豪，先生。约瑟夫•白格斯托克不懂得拍马屁，先生。约克郡公爵殿下不止一次说过，‘乔埃不会拍马屁。他是个普通的老兵，这就是乔，他坚强不屈得有点过了头，这就是约瑟夫。’不过这是个伟大的姓，先生。可以对着天主发誓，这是个伟大的姓！”
少校一本正经地说道。
“承蒙您好意赞扬，不过也许评价太高，有些过分了，少校，”董贝先生回答道。
“不，先生，”少校说道。“我在这里的小朋友会给约瑟夫•白格斯托克证明，他是一位耿直的、坦率的、有话直说的老实人，先生，这就是一切。那个孩子，先生，”少校压低了声音，说道，“将会留芳百世，永垂史册。那个孩子，先生，不是个平凡之辈。请好好照看他，董贝先生。”
董贝先生似乎向他暗示说，他将努力这样去做。
“这里有一个孩子，先生，”少校用说知心话的口吻继续说道，一边用手杖戳戳他。“孟加拉比瑟斯通的儿子。比尔•比瑟斯通从前是我们当中的一个。那个孩子的父亲和我本人过去是莫逆之交，先生。不论您走到哪里，先生，您听到人们谈论的全都是有关比尔•比瑟斯通和乔•白格斯托克的事情。难道我看不见那个孩子的缺点吗？决不是。他是个傻瓜，先生。”
董贝先生向那位遭到诽谤的比瑟斯通少爷看了一眼；他跟少校一样，对这孩子丝毫也不了解，他很得意地说道，“真的吗？”
“真的，他就是这样，先生，”少校说道。“他是个傻瓜。乔•白格斯托克从来不粉饰事实。我的孟加拉老朋友比尔•比瑟斯通的儿子生来就是个傻瓜，先生。”少校说到这里，哈哈大笑着，笑到脸色几乎完全发青。“我想，我的小朋友注定要进公学①的吧，董贝先生？”少校恢复过来之后，问道。
“我还没有作出决定，”董贝先生回答道。“我想不送去。
他的体质虚弱。”
“如果他的体质虚弱，先生，”少校说道，“您不送去是对的。只有坚强不屈的小伙子才能在经受了桑赫斯特②的苦难之后活下来。我们在那里互相折磨，先生。我们把新来的人放在慢火上烤，把他们从四层楼往窗子外面头朝下地倒挂着。先生，约瑟夫•白格斯托克曾经被握住靴子后跟，在校钟旁边的窗子外面挂了十三分钟。”
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①公学（publicschool）：英国专为富有子弟而设的私立中等中校，如伊顿（Eton）公学、哈罗（Harrow）公学等。
②桑赫斯特（Sandhurst）是英格兰南部的一个小镇，英国陆军军官学校设在那里。
少校很可以举出他的脸色来证实这段经历，他看上去仿佛确实曾经被倒挂得太久了一些。
“但是它使我们变成了我们那时那样的人，先生，”少校整整衬衫褶边，说道。“我们是铁，先生，它锻造了我们。您住在这里吗，董贝先生？”
“我通常每星期到这里来一次，少校，”那位先生说道。
“我住在贝德福德旅馆。”
“如果您允许，先生，我将荣幸地到贝德福德旅馆去拜访您，”少校说道。“乔埃•白不是个喜爱拜访的人，但是董贝先生不是个平凡的人物。我非常感谢我的小朋友，先生，感谢他使我有幸被介绍跟您认识。”
董贝先生很亲切友好地回答了他的话；白格斯托克少校拍了拍保罗的头之后，说到弗洛伦斯的时候说，她那双眼睛不久就会使年轻人神魂颠倒的。“说实话，也会使老头子神魂颠倒的，先生，”少校补充说道，一边大声地吃吃地笑着。他用手杖捅捅比瑟斯通少爷，迈着急匆匆的快步，跟那位年轻人离开了。当他两只腿分得很开，蹒跚地继续往前走去的时候，他摇晃着脑袋，极为威严地咳嗽着。
少校履行诺言，后来去拜访了董贝先生；董贝先生查阅了军人名册之后，后来也去拜访了少校。然后少校在董贝先生城里的公馆中拜访了他；然后他和董贝先生乘坐着同一辆马车又到布赖顿来。总之，董贝先生与少校相处得异乎寻常地融洽，关系进展得异乎寻常地迅速。董贝先生向他的妹妹谈起少校的时候，说，他不仅是一位真正的军人，而且在他身上还有其他一些东西，因为他对跟他的职业毫无关系的事物，也令人惊叹地了解它们的重要性。
终于，当董贝先生领着托克斯小姐与奇克夫人到布赖顿来看孩子们，并看到少校也在这里的时候，他就邀请他到贝德福德旅馆来吃晚饭，事前还向托克斯小姐极力恭维她有这样一位邻居与熟人。尽管这些暗示使托克斯小姐心房怦怦跳动，但她听起来决不是不愉快的，因为它们使她变得格外有趣，有时使她显得心意烦乱，神志不定，这是她完全不愿意表露出来的。少校给了她很多机会来展现这种情绪，他在晚饭中间不断埋怨她把他和公主广场抛弃了。由于他讲这些话看来是为了取得极大的乐趣，所以他们全都相处得很融洽。
少校掌握着整个谈话；他在这方面的胃口跟他对桌子上的各种美味食品的胃口一样大；几乎可以说他在大吞大咽着这些食品，而这又大大地促使他鼓动他的如簧之舌；这对当时的情况并没有什么不好。由于董贝先生习惯于沉着冷静，不多说话，所以他丝毫没有干预这种喧宾夺主的现象；少校觉得他正在大出风头，因而兴高采烈，把他自己的姓名颠来倒去地说出了无数个新的变化，连他自己也感到十分惊奇。总之，他们全都感到十分高兴。大家觉得少校拥有耗用不尽的谈话资源；当打完一局时间拖得很长的纸牌，少校终于很晚地告别之后，董贝先生又向脸孔羞得通红的托克斯小姐恭维她有这样一位邻居与熟人。
可是在回到自己旅馆的整个路途中，少校不断自言自语地谈着他自己。“狡猾呵，先生——狡猾呵，先生——像魔鬼般地狡猾呵！”到达旅馆以后，他在一张椅子中坐下，默默无声地大笑个不停；他有时是会这样大笑的，而那样子常常是特别可怕的。这一次笑的时间那么长久，所以黑仆人就站在远处看着他，无论如何也不敢走近他，有两三次还以为他已经没有医治的希望了。他的整个身躯，特别是他的脸与头膨胀得比过去任何时候都大，在黑人眼中看到的只是一大堆靛蓝的东西。终于他发出一阵猛烈的咳嗽，在感到好一些以后，他短促地叫喊出以下一些话来：
“您是不是，夫人，您是不是想当董贝夫人，嗯，夫人？我看不成，夫人。只要乔•白能在您的车轮子里插进一根棍子，那就不成，夫人。乔•白现在和您是平等的，夫人。他根本还没有被打倒，退出场外，先生，白格斯托克没有退。她的心计深，先生，心计深，但是乔希的心计更深。老乔清醒着——没有丝毫睡意，而且睁大了眼睛看着，先生！”他最后的一句话无疑是真实的，而且真实到了很可怕的程度；因为在那一夜的大半时间里，继续是这种情形；少校主要是在类似叫喊声中度过那一夜的，有时穿插着一阵阵使整个房屋都感到惊恐的咳嗽与窒息。
就在发生这件事情以后的第二天（这是个星期天），当董贝先生，奇克夫人和托克斯小姐坐着吃早饭，依旧在称赞少校的时候，弗洛伦斯脸上显露出一片明亮的光彩，眼中闪着喜悦的光辉，跑了进来，喊道：
“爸爸！爸爸！沃尔特在这里！他不肯进来。”
“谁？”董贝先生喊道。“她讲的是什么？这是什么意思？”
“沃尔特，爸爸！”弗洛伦斯胆怯地说道；她感到她刚才提到这个人太随随便便了。“我迷路的时候是他把我找到的。”“她是说年轻人盖伊吗，路易莎？”董贝先生皱着眉头，问道。“真的，这孩子的举止变得很吵吵嚷嚷的了。她不会指年轻人盖伊吧，我想。请你去了解一下是什么事情好吗？”
奇克夫人匆忙走进走廊，回来说，是年轻人盖伊，陪他一道来的是一位外貌很古怪的人；年轻人盖伊说，他听说董贝先生正在吃早饭，就不肯冒失地进来；他愿意在外面等候，直到董贝先生允许他进来的时候为止。
“告诉这孩子现在进来吧，”董贝先生说道。“唔，盖伊，发生了什么事情？谁派您到这里来的？没有别的人到这里来了吗？”
“我请您原谅，先生，”沃尔特回答道。“我不是被公司派来的。我是不揣冒昧地为了我的私事到您这里来的；我希望我说明原因以后您会原谅我。”
可是董贝先生没有注意听他讲的话，而是不耐烦地一会儿从他的左边，一会儿从他的右边去看他背后的一个什么目标，仿佛他本人是一根挡住他视线的柱子似的。
“那是什么？”董贝先生说道。“那是谁？我想您走错了门了吧，先生？”
“啊，我很抱歉，我不是一个人来的，先生，”沃尔特急忙喊道；“不过这是——这是卡特尔船长，先生。”
“沃尔，我的孩子，”船长用深沉的声音说道；“做好准备！”
在这同时，船长向前走近一些，十分清楚地显露出了他的宽大的蓝上衣，显眼的衬衫领子和有好多疙瘩的鼻子；他站着向董贝先生鞠躬，并彬彬有礼地向女士们挥着钩子，另一只手中拿着那顶上了光的硬帽子，头的周围显露出一个红色的圆圈，那是帽子新近留下的痕迹。
董贝先生惊奇而愤怒地注视着这个现象，并且以他的脸色要求奇克夫人与托克斯小姐跟他一道表示不满。当船长挥着钩子的时候，跟随弗洛伦斯进来的小保罗背朝着托克斯小姐后退，并站在那里作出了防御的姿态。
“唔，盖伊，”董贝先生说道，“您有什么要对我说的？”
船长又说道，“沃尔，做好准备！”这就算作是谈话的一个开端，它不会不取得所有在场人的好感的。
“我担心，先生，”沃尔特哆嗦着，眼睛向下看着地面，说道，“我到这里来是十分放肆的，——确实，我相信是这样。甚至我到了这里以后，我恐怕也没有勇气请求见您，先生，如果我没有遇见董贝小姐，而且——”
“唔！”董贝先生说道；当沃尔特向注意听他讲话的弗洛伦斯看了一眼的时候，董贝先生跟随着他的眼光；当她微笑着对沃尔特表示鼓励的时候，他不自觉地皱起了眉头。“请继续说下去。”
“是的，是的，”船长说道；他认为，他是一位有教养的人，他有责任来支持董贝先生。“说得很好！继续说下去，沃尔。”
董贝先生表示听到了支持他的话，向他看了一眼；卡特尔船长当时如果看到这个眼光的话，那么他一定是会全身畏缩的。可是他完全不知道这一点，所以他闭了一只眼睛作为回答，并寓有深意地挥了挥钩子，让董贝先生明白，沃尔特开始有些胆怯，但可以期望他很快就会平静下来的。
“我到这里来完全是为了一件私人的事情，先生，”沃尔特结结巴巴地继续说道，“这位卡特尔船长——”
“就在这里！”船长打断了他的话，证明他就在近旁，而且是可以信赖的。
“是我可怜的舅舅的一位很老的朋友，是一个极好的人，先生，”沃尔特抬起眼睛，露出为船长求情的神色，继续说下去，“他一片好心，提出要陪我到这里来，我不能拒绝他的要求。”
“是的，是的，是的，”船长喜洋洋地说道。“当然不能。
哪能拒绝呢。往下说吧，沃尔。”
“因此，先生，”沃尔特说道；他大胆地接触到董贝先生的眼光，在极为绝望的情况下鼓起勇气继续说下去，因为现在已经没法退避了，“因此我就跟他一起到这里来，想告诉您，先生，我的可怜的年老的舅舅正处在极大的痛苦与不幸之中。由于他的营业逐渐亏损，无法偿还欠款——我知道得很清楚，先生，这个恐惧过去好几个月一直沉甸甸地压在他的心头——，他家里的财产就要查封，他将失去他所有的东西，伤心而死；他现在正处在这样的危险之中。如果您由于长久以来一直知道他是一位品德端正的人，慈悲为怀，并因此能做点什么事来帮助他走出困境的话，先生，那么我们对您真将感激不尽。”
沃尔特说话的时候，眼睛里充满了泪水，弗洛伦斯的眼睛里也是一样。她的父亲看上去好像只是看着沃尔特，但他看到她的这些泪水在闪着亮光。
“这是一笔很大的款子，先生，”沃尔特说道。“三百多镑。我的舅舅已经完全被他的不幸压垮了；它是那么沉重地压在他身上，因此他已经完全不能做什么事情来解救自己。他甚至不知道我已经到这里来跟您谈话。您可能希望，先生，”沃尔特迟疑了片刻之后，补充说道，“我确切地说出我究竟需要什么。我确实不知道，先生。我舅舅有一些货物。我想我可以有把握地说，他已经没有别的债务了。还有卡特尔船长，他也愿意出面担保。我——我实在不想提到我挣的那点钱；”沃尔特说道，“但是如果您允许把它们积攒起来——抵偿——借贷给——舅舅——这位节俭的、正直的老人。”沃尔特吃力地说着这些断断续续、支离破碎的句子，声音愈来愈小，终于默不作声，低垂着头，站在他的雇主前面。
卡特尔船长觉得这是显示那些贵重物品的好时机，就向前走到餐桌跟前，在董贝先生身旁的餐杯中间清出一小片地方，取出了银表、现钱、茶匙和方糖箝子；又把它们堆成一堆，使它们看起来显得格外贵重，然后说出了以下的一番话：
“半块面包比没有面包好，就面包屑来说，也同样可以这样说。这里是一些面包屑。以后还准备贡献上一百镑的年金。如果世界上有一位脑子里充满科学的人，那么这个人就是老所尔•吉尔斯。如果世界上有一个前程远大的小伙子——一个‘流着牛奶与蜂蜜’①的小伙子的话”船长引用了他得意的语录，补充说道，“——那么这就是他的外甥！”
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①“流着牛奶与蜂蜜”原是圣经中形容肥沃的土地（巴勒斯坦）的话，船长用它来形容沃尔特年轻有为、前程远大。
然后船长退回到他原先的地方，站在那里梳理梳理那散乱的头发，露出一副刚刚完成一件最艰难的任务的人的神态。
当沃尔特停止讲话的时候，董贝先生的眼光被吸引到小保罗的身上；小保罗看到他姐姐低垂着头，由于怜悯她所听到的不幸正在默默地哭泣着，就向她走过去，设法安慰她；当他这样做的时候，他脸上富于表情地望着沃尔特和他的父亲。董贝先生由于卡特尔船长的谈话暂时转移了注意力（他对这个谈话高傲地漠不关心）之后，又把眼睛转到他的儿子身上，默默地坐了一些时候，专心一意地望着这孩子。
“这笔债是为什么欠下的？”董贝先生终于问道。“谁是债权人？”
“他不知道，”船长把手搁在沃尔特的肩膀上，回答道。
“我知道。那是因为帮助一位现已不在人世的人而欠下的。可是那已经使我的朋友吉尔斯耗费了几百镑了。如果您同意，详细情况我可以在私下里说给您听。”
“那些好不容易自己才能生活下去的人们，”董贝先生没有注意船长在沃尔特背后所做的神秘的手势，仍然看着他的儿子，说道，“最好安安分分地照料他们自己的负担和困难就行了，不要再去替别人担保，增加这种负担和困难了。这是一种不诚实的，而且也是狂妄无礼的行为，”董贝先生严厉地说道；“极大的狂妄无礼；因为那些富有的人所能做的最多也不过如此罢了。保罗，到这里来！”
孩子依从了。董贝先生把他抱到膝盖上。
“如果你现在有钱——”董贝先生说道，“看着我！”
保罗的眼睛原先看着他的姐姐和沃尔特，这时看着他父亲的脸。
“如果你现在有钱，”董贝先生说道，“有年轻人盖伊谈到的那么多的钱的话，那么你将怎么办？”
“把它给他年老的舅舅，”保罗回答道。
“把它借给他年老的舅舅，是不是？”董贝先生对他进行纠正，说道。“唔！你知道，等你长大以后，你将跟我一起享有我的钱。我们将一起使用它。”
“董贝父子，”保罗打断他的话，说道；他很小就被教会说这几个字。
“董贝父子，”他的父亲重复说道。“你愿意现在就来管董贝父子公司的事，把这钱借给盖伊的舅舅吗？”
“啊！如果你愿意的话，爸爸！”保罗说道。“弗洛伦斯也会愿意的。”
“女孩子，”董贝先生说道，“跟董贝父子没有关系。你愿意吗？”
“愿意，爸爸，愿意！”
“那么就由你来办这件事，”他的父亲回答道。“你看到了，保罗，”他压低了声音，补充说道，“钱有多么大的力量；人们多么急切地想要得到它。年轻人盖伊跑这一趟路来是为了恳求借钱，而你是这么高贵、伟大、有钱，你将作为一笔很大的恩惠与人情，让他得到它。”
保罗把那张老气的脸向上抬起一会儿，明白地表示他十分理解这些话的含义，可是当他从他父亲的膝盖上滑溜下来，跑去告诉弗洛伦斯不要再哭，因为他将让年轻的盖伊得到这笔钱的时候，那张脸又立刻变得年轻与孩子气了。
于是董贝先生转身走到一张边桌旁边，写了一张条子，盖了章。在这段时间里，保罗与弗洛伦斯低声地跟沃尔特说话，卡特尔船长则眉开眼笑地看着这三个人，心中怀着那样抱负不凡的、难以形容的狂妄的思想，那是董贝先生决不会相信的。条子处理完毕之后，董贝先生回到他原先的地方，把它交给沃尔特。
“明天早上第一件事，”他说道，“就是把这交给卡克先生。他会立刻作出安排，让我的一位职员支付那笔钱，把您的舅舅从他目前的困境中解脱出来；偿还的条件也是规定得符合您舅舅的境况的。您就把这看作是保罗少爷为您办的吧！”
沃尔特手里拿着把他的善良的舅舅从灾难中解救出来的手段，心中无比激动，本想尽力说些表示感激与喜悦的话。可是董贝先生突然制止了他。
“您就把这看作是保罗少爷为您办的吧，”他重复说道，“我已经向他解释过，他也听明白了，我没有别的话要说的了。”
因为他用手指着门，沃尔特只好向他鞠躬，告别了。托克斯小姐看到船长好像也正要这样做的时候，插嘴道：
“我亲爱的先生，”她对董贝先生说道；她和奇克夫人对他的慷慨都流出了大量的眼泪；“我想您疏忽了一点什么事情了。请原谅我，董贝先生，我觉得，由于您品格高尚，豁达大度，您没有注意到一件小事。”
“真的吗，托克斯小姐！”董贝先生说道。
“那位带着——工具的先生，”托克斯小姐向卡特尔船长看了一眼，说下去，“在餐桌上挨近您的地方留下了——”
“老天爷！”董贝先生说道，一边把船长的财产从他的身边一下推开，仿佛它真是好多面包屑似的。“把这些东西拿走。我感谢您，托克斯小姐；您一向都是考虑得这样周到。劳驾您把这些东西拿走吧，先生。”
卡特尔船长觉得他除了遵命照办外，没有别的选择。可是董贝先生拒绝接受这些堆积在他手边的财宝，表现得那么宽宏大量，这使他十分感动，因此当他把茶匙和方糖箝子装进一只衣袋，把现钱装进另一只衣袋，把那只大表慢慢地往下放到它的合适的洞穴里去的时候，他情不自禁地把这位先生的右手握到他那只单独的左手里，而且当他用有劲的手指把它撑开的时候，他在满怀敬佩的心情中，把钩子接触到它的掌心。董贝先生在热烈的感情与冰冷的铁件的接触下，全身打了个冷颤。
然后，卡特尔船长极为文雅、极为殷勤地把钩子吻了好几次，向女士们致意；在向保罗与弗洛伦斯特别进行了告别之后，他陪着沃尔特走出了房间。弗洛伦斯出自一片热心，追在他们后面，要他们代向老所尔问候，这时候董贝先生喊她回来，吩咐她待在原先的地方。
“难道你永远也不想成为真正的董贝家里的人了吗？我亲爱的孩子！”奇克夫人用感伤与责备的语气说道。
“亲爱的姑妈，”弗洛伦斯说道。“别生我的气，我是多么感谢爸爸啊！”
如果她敢的话，那么她真想跑过去，伸出胳膊搂住他的脖子；可是因为她不敢这样做，所以她就用感激的眼光向他看看；这时他坐在那里沉思着，有时不安地向她看一眼，但大部分时间是注视着保罗；这孩子正在房间里走来走去，摆出一副威风凛凛的气派，那是由于让年轻的盖伊得到了钱而刚刚产生出来的。
那么年轻的盖伊——沃尔特，他的情况怎么样了呢？
他欢天喜地地把法警与经纪人从老人家里清除掉，急忙回到舅舅身边去向他报告好消息；他欢天喜地地在第二天中午以前把一切事情安排妥当，处理完毕，晚上在小后客厅里与老所尔和卡特尔船长坐在一起，并且看到仪器制造商已经重新振作起精神，对未来充满希望，同时感到木制海军军官候补生又属于他自己的了。可是必须承认，沃尔特感到自己丧尽体面，意气消沉。这丝毫也不是责备他对董贝先生不知感激。当我们希望的萌芽已被一阵暴风冻死，无法恢复生机的时候，我们最不愿意向我们自己描绘，如果它们蓬勃生长的话，那么它们可能会开放出什么样的花朵了。现在当沃尔特发现自己又一次从伟大的董贝高峰上可怕地深深地滚落下来，从而和它完全切断，并且感到他旧日的狂妄的幻想已经在滚落时在风中化为乌有的时候，他开始怀疑，这些希望是否还能在遥远的将来，继续引导他走向渴望得到弗洛伦斯的无害的梦幻。
船长却从完全不同的角度来看这个问题。他似乎相信，他曾给予帮助的这次会晤令人十分称心满意和欢欣鼓舞，它离弗洛伦斯与沃尔特正式订婚只差一两步了。在这种信心的激励下，在他老朋友情绪好转以及他自己随之而来的欢乐心情的鼓舞下，有一天晚上，当他第三次为他们唱《可爱的佩格姑娘》这支民歌的时候，他甚至试图即席用“弗洛伦斯”的名字来代替；但他发现“佩格”这个词总是要跟“莱格”①（腿）这个词押韵（民歌中描写女主人公的腿长得十分美丽，她的生理上的这个优点使她压倒了所有的竞争者），于是灵机一动，就把它改成“弗洛—莱格”；虽然他必须回到可怕的麦克斯廷杰太太的住所的时候就要到了，可是他仍旧那样唱起来，唱时那副诡诈的神气几乎是超自然的，而且声音十分喧闹。
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①英文中腿（leg）这个词的发音为莱格。
Chapter 11
Paul's Introduction to a New Scene
Mrs Pipchin's constitution was made of such hard metal, in spite of its liability to the fleshly weaknesses of standing in need of repose after chops, and of requiring to be coaxed to sleep by the soporific agency of sweet-breads, that it utterly set at naught the predictions of Mrs Wickam, and showed no symptoms of decline. Yet, as Paul's rapt interest in the old lady continued unbated, Mrs Wickam would not budge an inch from the position she had taken up. Fortifying and entrenching herself on the strong ground of her Uncle's Betsey Jane, she advised Miss Berry, as a friend, to prepare herself for the worst; and forewarned her that her aunt might, at any time, be expected to go off suddenly, like a powder-mill.
'I hope, Miss Berry,' Mrs Wickam would observe, 'that you'll come into whatever little property there may be to leave. You deserve it, I am sure, for yours is a trying life. Though there don't seem much worth coming into - you'll excuse my being so open - in this dismal den.'
Poor Berry took it all in good part, and drudged and slaved away as usual; perfectly convinced that Mrs Pipchin was one of the most meritorious persons in the world, and making every day innumerable sacrifices of herself upon the altar of that noble old woman. But all these immolations of Berry were somehow carried to the credit of Mrs Pipchin by Mrs Pipchin's friends and admirers; and were made to harmonise with, and carry out, that melancholy fact of the deceased Mr Pipchin having broken his heart in the Peruvian mines.
For example, there was an honest grocer and general dealer in the retail line of business, between whom and Mrs Pipchin there was a small memorandum book, with a greasy red cover, perpetually in question, and concerning which divers secret councils and conferences were continually being held between the parties to that register, on the mat in the passage, and with closed doors in the parlour. Nor were there wanting dark hints from Master Bitherstone (whose temper had been made revengeful by the solar heats of India acting on his blood), of balances unsettled, and of a failure, on one occasion within his memory, in the supply of moist sugar at tea-time. This grocer being a bachelor and not a man who looked upon the surface for beauty, had once made honourable offers for the hand of Berry, which Mrs Pipchin had, with contumely and scorn, rejected. Everybody said how laudable this was in Mrs Pipchin, relict of a man who had died of the Peruvian mines; and what a staunch, high, independent spirit the old lady had. But nobody said anything about poor Berry, who cried for six weeks (being soundly rated by her good aunt all the time), and lapsed into a state of hopeless spinsterhood.
'Berry's very fond of you, ain't she?' Paul once asked Mrs Pipchin when they were sitting by the fire with the cat.
'Yes,' said Mrs Pipchin.
'Why?' asked Paul.
'Why!' returned the disconcerted old lady. 'How can you ask such things, Sir! why are you fond of your sister Florence?'
'Because she's very good,' said Paul. 'There's nobody like Florence.'
'Well!' retorted Mrs Pipchin, shortly, 'and there's nobody like me, I suppose.'
'Ain't there really though?' asked Paul, leaning forward in his chair, and looking at her very hard.
'No,' said the old lady.
'I am glad of that,' observed Paul, rubbing his hands thoughtfully. 'That's a very good thing.'
Mrs Pipchin didn't dare to ask him why, lest she should receive some perfectly annihilating answer. But as a compensation to her wounded feelings, she harassed Master Bitherstone to that extent until bed-time, that he began that very night to make arrangements for an overland return to India, by secreting from his supper a quarter of a round of bread and a fragment of moist Dutch cheese, as the beginning of a stock of provision to support him on the voyage.
Mrs Pipchin had kept watch and ward over little Paul and his sister for nearly twelve months. They had been home twice, but only for a few days; and had been constant in their weekly visits to Mr Dombey at the hotel. By little and little Paul had grown stronger, and had become able to dispense with his carriage; though he still looked thin and delicate; and still remained the same old, quiet, dreamy child that he had been when first consigned to Mrs Pipchin's care. One Saturday afternoon, at dusk, great consternation was occasioned in the Castle by the unlooked-for announcement of Mr Dombey as a visitor to Mrs Pipchin. The population of the parlour was immediately swept upstairs as on the wings of a whirlwind, and after much slamming of bedroom doors, and trampling overhead, and some knocking about of Master Bitherstone by Mrs Pipchin, as a relief to the perturbation of her spirits, the black bombazeen garments of the worthy old lady darkened the audience-chamber where Mr Dombey was contemplating the vacant arm-chair of his son and heir.
'Mrs Pipchin,' said Mr Dombey, 'How do you do?'
'Thank you, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin, 'I am pretty well, considering.'
Mrs Pipchin always used that form of words. It meant, considering her virtues, sacrifices, and so forth.
'I can't expect, Sir, to be very well,' said Mrs Pipchin, taking a chair and fetching her breath; 'but such health as I have, I am grateful for.'
Mr Dombey inclined his head with the satisfied air of a patron, who felt that this was the sort of thing for which he paid so much a quarter. After a moment's silence he went on to say:
'Mrs Pipchin, I have taken the liberty of calling, to consult you in reference to my son. I have had it in my mind to do so for some time past; but have deferred it from time to time, in order that his health might be thoroughly re-established. You have no misgivings on that subject, Mrs Pipchin?'
'Brighton has proved very beneficial, Sir,' returned Mrs Pipchin. 'Very beneficial, indeed.'
'I purpose,' said Mr Dombey, 'his remaining at Brighton.'
Mrs Pipchin rubbed her hands, and bent her grey eyes on the fire.
'But,' pursued Mr Dombey, stretching out his forefinger, 'but possibly that he should now make a change, and lead a different kind of life here. In short, Mrs Pipchin, that is the object of my visit. My son is getting on, Mrs Pipchin. Really, he is getting on.'
There was something melancholy in the triumphant air with which Mr Dombey said this. It showed how long Paul's childish life had been to him, and how his hopes were set upon a later stage of his existence. Pity may appear a strange word to connect with anyone so haughty and so cold, and yet he seemed a worthy subject for it at that moment.
'Six years old!' said Mr Dombey, settling his neckcloth - perhaps to hide an irrepressible smile that rather seemed to strike upon the surface of his face and glance away, as finding no resting-place, than to play there for an instant. 'Dear me, six will be changed to sixteen, before we have time to look about us.'
'Ten years,' croaked the unsympathetic Pipchin, with a frosty glistening of her hard grey eye, and a dreary shaking of her bent head, 'is a long time.'
'It depends on circumstances, returned Mr Dombey; 'at all events, Mrs Pipchin, my son is six years old, and there is no doubt, I fear, that in his studies he is behind many children of his age - or his youth,' said Mr Dombey, quickly answering what he mistrusted was a shrewd twinkle of the frosty eye, 'his youth is a more appropriate expression. Now, Mrs Pipchin, instead of being behind his peers, my son ought to be before them; far before them. There is an eminence ready for him to mount upon. There is nothing of chance or doubt in the course before my son. His way in life was clear and prepared, and marked out before he existed. The education of such a young gentleman must not be delayed. It must not be left imperfect. It must be very steadily and seriously undertaken, Mrs Pipchin.'
'Well, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin, 'I can say nothing to the contrary.'
'I was quite sure, Mrs Pipchin,' returned Mr Dombey, approvingly, 'that a person of your good sense could not, and would not.'
'There is a great deal of nonsense - and worse - talked about young people not being pressed too hard at first, and being tempted on, and all the rest of it, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin, impatiently rubbing her hooked nose. 'It never was thought of in my time, and it has no business to be thought of now. My opinion is "keep 'em at it".'
'My good madam,' returned Mr Dombey, 'you have not acquired your reputation undeservedly; and I beg you to believe, Mrs Pipchin, that I am more than satisfied with your excellent system of management, and shall have the greatest pleasure in commending it whenever my poor commendation - ' Mr Dombey's loftiness when he affected to disparage his own importance, passed all bounds - 'can be of any service. I have been thinking of Doctor Blimber's, Mrs Pipchin.'
'My neighbour, Sir?' said Mrs Pipchin. 'I believe the Doctor's is an excellent establishment. I've heard that it's very strictly conducted, and there is nothing but learning going on from morning to night.'
'And it's very expensive,' added Mr Dombey.
'And it's very expensive, Sir,' returned Mrs Pipchin, catching at the fact, as if in omitting that, she had omitted one of its leading merits.
'I have had some communication with the Doctor, Mrs Pipchin,' said Mr Dombey, hitching his chair anxiously a little nearer to the fire, 'and he does not consider Paul at all too young for his purpose. He mentioned several instances of boys in Greek at about the same age. If I have any little uneasiness in my own mind, Mrs Pipchin, on the subject of this change, it is not on that head. My son not having known a mother has gradually concentrated much - too much - of his childish affection on his sister. Whether their separation - ' Mr Dombey said no more, but sat silent.
'Hoity-toity!' exclaimed Mrs Pipchin, shaking out her black bombazeen skirts, and plucking up all the ogress within her. 'If she don't like it, Mr Dombey, she must be taught to lump it.' The good lady apologised immediately afterwards for using so common a figure of speech, but said (and truly) that that was the way she reasoned with 'em.
Mr Dombey waited until Mrs Pipchin had done bridling and shaking her head, and frowning down a legion of Bitherstones and Pankeys; and then said quietly, but correctively, 'He, my good madam, he.'
Mrs Pipchin's system would have applied very much the same mode of cure to any uneasiness on the part of Paul, too; but as the hard grey eye was sharp enough to see that the recipe, however Mr Dombey might admit its efficacy in the case of the daughter, was not a sovereign remedy for the son, she argued the point; and contended that change, and new society, and the different form of life he would lead at Doctor Blimber's, and the studies he would have to master, would very soon prove sufficient alienations. As this chimed in with Mr Dombey's own hope and belief, it gave that gentleman a still higher opinion of Mrs Pipchin's understanding; and as Mrs Pipchin, at the same time, bewailed the loss of her dear little friend (which was not an overwhelming shock to her, as she had long expected it, and had not looked, in the beginning, for his remaining with her longer than three months), he formed an equally good opinion of Mrs Pipchin's disinterestedness. It was plain that he had given the subject anxious consideration, for he had formed a plan, which he announced to the ogress, of sending Paul to the Doctor's as a weekly boarder for the first half year, during which time Florence would remain at the Castle, that she might receive her brother there, on Saturdays. This would wean him by degrees, Mr Dombey said; possibly with a recollection of his not having been weaned by degrees on a former occasion.
Mr Dombey finished the interview by expressing his hope that Mrs Pipchin would still remain in office as general superintendent and overseer of his son, pending his studies at Brighton; and having kissed Paul, and shaken hands with Florence, and beheld Master Bitherstone in his collar of state, and made Miss Pankey cry by patting her on the head (in which region she was uncommonly tender, on account of a habit Mrs Pipchin had of sounding it with her knuckles, like a cask), he withdrew to his hotel and dinner: resolved that Paul, now that he was getting so old and well, should begin a vigorous course of education forthwith, to qualify him for the position in which he was to shine; and that Doctor Blimber should take him in hand immediately.
Whenever a young gentleman was taken in hand by Doctor Blimber, he might consider himself sure of a pretty tight squeeze. The Doctor only undertook the charge of ten young gentlemen, but he had, always ready, a supply of learning for a hundred, on the lowest estimate; and it was at once the business and delight of his life to gorge the unhappy ten with it.
In fact, Doctor Blimber's establishment was a great hot-house, in which there was a forcing apparatus incessantly at work. All the boys blew before their time. Mental green-peas were produced at Christmas, and intellectual asparagus all the year round. Mathematical gooseberries (very sour ones too) were common at untimely seasons, and from mere sprouts of bushes, under Doctor Blimber's cultivation. Every description of Greek and Latin vegetable was got off the driest twigs of boys, under the frostiest circumstances. Nature was of no consequence at all. No matter what a young gentleman was intended to bear, Doctor Blimber made him bear to pattern, somehow or other.
This was all very pleasant and ingenious, but the system of forcing was attended with its usual disadvantages. There was not the right taste about the premature productions, and they didn't keep well. Moreover, one young gentleman, with a swollen nose and an excessively large head (the oldest of the ten who had 'gone through' everything), suddenly left off blowing one day, and remained in the establishment a mere stalk. And people did say that the Doctor had rather overdone it with young Toots, and that when he began to have whiskers he left off having brains.
There young Toots was, at any rate; possessed of the gruffest of voices and the shrillest of minds; sticking ornamental pins into his shirt, and keeping a ring in his waistcoat pocket to put on his little finger by stealth, when the pupils went out walking; constantly falling in love by sight with nurserymaids, who had no idea of his existence; and looking at the gas-lighted world over the little iron bars in the left-hand corner window of the front three pairs of stairs, after bed-time, like a greatly overgrown cherub who had sat up aloft much too long.
The Doctor was a portly gentleman in a suit of black, with strings at his knees, and stockings below them. He had a bald head, highly polished; a deep voice; and a chin so very double, that it was a wonder how he ever managed to shave into the creases. He had likewise a pair of little eyes that were always half shut up, and a mouth that was always half expanded into a grin, as if he had, that moment, posed a boy, and were waiting to convict him from his own lips. Insomuch, that when the Doctor put his right hand into the breast of his coat, and with his other hand behind him, and a scarcely perceptible wag of his head, made the commonest observation to a nervous stranger, it was like a sentiment from the sphynx, and settled his business.
The Doctor's was a mighty fine house, fronting the sea. Not a joyful style of house within, but quite the contrary. Sad-coloured curtains, whose proportions were spare and lean, hid themselves despondently behind the windows. The tables and chairs were put away in rows, like figures in a sum; fires were so rarely lighted in the rooms of ceremony, that they felt like wells, and a visitor represented the bucket; the dining-room seemed the last place in the world where any eating or drinking was likely to occur; there was no sound through all the house but the ticking of a great clock in the hall, which made itself audible in the very garrets; and sometimes a dull cooing of young gentlemen at their lessons, like the murmurings of an assemblage of melancholy pigeons.
Miss Blimber, too, although a slim and graceful maid, did no soft violence to the gravity of the house. There was no light nonsense about Miss Blimber. She kept her hair short and crisp, and wore spectacles. She was dry and sandy with working in the graves of deceased languages. None of your live languages for Miss Blimber. They must be dead - stone dead - and then Miss Blimber dug them up like a Ghoul.
Mrs Blimber, her Mama, was not learned herself, but she pretended to be, and that did quite as well. She said at evening parties, that if she could have known Cicero, she thought she could have died contented. It was the steady joy of her life to see the Doctor's young gentlemen go out walking, unlike all other young gentlemen, in the largest possible shirt-collars, and the stiffest possible cravats. It was so classical, she said.
As to Mr Feeder, B.A., Doctor Blimber's assistant, he was a kind of human barrel-organ, with a little list of tunes at which he was continually working, over and over again, without any variation. He might have been fitted up with a change of barrels, perhaps, in early life, if his destiny had been favourable; but it had not been; and he had only one, with which, in a monotonous round, it was his occupation to bewilder the young ideas of Doctor Blimber's young gentlemen. The young gentlemen were prematurely full of carking anxieties. They knew no rest from the pursuit of stony-hearted verbs, savage noun-substantives, inflexible syntactic passages, and ghosts of exercises that appeared to them in their dreams. Under the forcing system, a young gentleman usually took leave of his spirits in three weeks. He had all the cares of the world on his head in three months. He conceived bitter sentiments against his parents or guardians in four; he was an old misanthrope, in five; envied Curtius that blessed refuge in the earth, in six; and at the end of the first twelvemonth had arrived at the conclusion, from which he never afterwards departed, that all the fancies of the poets, and lessons of the sages, were a mere collection of words and grammar, and had no other meaning in the world.
But he went on blow, blow, blowing, in the Doctor's hothouse, all the time; and the Doctor's glory and reputation were great, when he took his wintry growth home to his relations and friends.
Upon the Doctor's door-steps one day, Paul stood with a fluttering heart, and with his small right hand in his father's. His other hand was locked in that of Florence. How tight the tiny pressure of that one; and how loose and cold the other!
Mrs Pipchin hovered behind the victim, with her sable plumage and her hooked beak, like a bird of ill-omen. She was out of breath - for Mr Dombey, full of great thoughts, had walked fast - and she croaked hoarsely as she waited for the opening of the door.
'Now, Paul,' said Mr Dombey, exultingly. 'This is the way indeed to be Dombey and Son, and have money. You are almost a man already.'
'Almost,' returned the child.
Even his childish agitation could not master the sly and quaint yet touching look, with which he accompanied the reply.
It brought a vague expression of dissatisfaction into Mr Dombey's face; but the door being opened, it was quickly gone
'Doctor Blimber is at home, I believe?' said Mr Dombey.
The man said yes; and as they passed in, looked at Paul as if he were a little mouse, and the house were a trap. He was a weak-eyed young man, with the first faint streaks or early dawn of a grin on his countenance. It was mere imbecility; but Mrs Pipchin took it into her head that it was impudence, and made a snap at him directly.
'How dare you laugh behind the gentleman's back?' said Mrs Pipchin. 'And what do you take me for?'
'I ain't a laughing at nobody, and I'm sure I don't take you for nothing, Ma'am,' returned the young man, in consternation.
'A pack of idle dogs!' said Mrs Pipchin, 'only fit to be turnspits. Go and tell your master that Mr Dombey's here, or it'll be worse for you!'
The weak-eyed young man went, very meekly, to discharge himself of this commission; and soon came back to invite them to the Doctor's study.
'You're laughing again, Sir,' said Mrs Pipchin, when it came to her turn, bringing up the rear, to pass him in the hall.
'I ain't,' returned the young man, grievously oppressed. 'I never see such a thing as this!'
'What is the matter, Mrs Pipchin?' said Mr Dombey, looking round. 'Softly! Pray!'
Mrs Pipchin, in her deference, merely muttered at the young man as she passed on, and said, 'Oh! he was a precious fellow' - leaving the young man, who was all meekness and incapacity, affected even to tears by the incident. But Mrs Pipchin had a way of falling foul of all meek people; and her friends said who could wonder at it, after the Peruvian mines!
The Doctor was sitting in his portentous study, with a globe at each knee, books all round him, Homer over the door, and Minerva on the mantel-shelf. 'And how do you do, Sir?' he said to Mr Dombey, 'and how is my little friend?' Grave as an organ was the Doctor's speech; and when he ceased, the great clock in the hall seemed (to Paul at least) to take him up, and to go on saying, 'how, is, my, lit, tle, friend? how, is, my, lit, tle, friend?' over and over and over again.
The little friend being something too small to be seen at all from where the Doctor sat, over the books on his table, the Doctor made several futile attempts to get a view of him round the legs; which Mr Dombey perceiving, relieved the Doctor from his embarrassment by taking Paul up in his arms, and sitting him on another little table, over against the Doctor, in the middle of the room.
'Ha!' said the Doctor, leaning back in his chair with his hand in his breast. 'Now I see my little friend. How do you do, my little friend?'
The clock in the hall wouldn't subscribe to this alteration in the form of words, but continued to repeat how, is, my, lit, tle, friend? how, is, my, lit, tle, friend?'
'Very well, I thank you, Sir,' returned Paul, answering the clock quite as much as the Doctor.
'Ha!' said Doctor Blimber. 'Shall we make a man of him?'
'Do you hear, Paul?' added Mr Dombey; Paul being silent.
'Shall we make a man of him?' repeated the Doctor.
'I had rather be a child,' replied Paul.
'Indeed!' said the Doctor. 'Why?'
The child sat on the table looking at him, with a curious expression of suppressed emotion in his face, and beating one hand proudly on his knee as if he had the rising tears beneath it, and crushed them. But his other hand strayed a little way the while, a little farther - farther from him yet - until it lighted on the neck of Florence. 'This is why,' it seemed to say, and then the steady look was broken up and gone; the working lip was loosened; and the tears came streaming forth.
'Mrs Pipchin,' said his father, in a querulous manner, 'I am really very sorry to see this.'
'Come away from him, do, Miss Dombey,' quoth the matron.
'Never mind,' said the Doctor, blandly nodding his head, to keep Mrs Pipchin back. 'Never mind; we shall substitute new cares and new impressions, Mr Dombey, very shortly. You would still wish my little friend to acquire - '
'Everything, if you please, Doctor,' returned Mr Dombey, firmly.
'Yes,' said the Doctor, who, with his half-shut eyes, and his usual smile, seemed to survey Paul with the sort of interest that might attach to some choice little animal he was going to stuff. 'Yes, exactly. Ha! We shall impart a great variety of information to our little friend, and bring him quickly forward, I daresay. I daresay. Quite a virgin soil, I believe you said, Mr Dombey?'
'Except some ordinary preparation at home, and from this lady,' replied Mr Dombey, introducing Mrs Pipchin, who instantly communicated a rigidity to her whole muscular system, and snorted defiance beforehand, in case the Doctor should disparage her; 'except so far, Paul has, as yet, applied himself to no studies at all.'
Doctor Blimber inclined his head, in gentle tolerance of such insignificant poaching as Mrs Pipchin's, and said he was glad to hear it. It was much more satisfactory, he observed, rubbing his hands, to begin at the foundation. And again he leered at Paul, as if he would have liked to tackle him with the Greek alphabet, on the spot.
'That circumstance, indeed, Doctor Blimber,' pursued Mr Dombey, glancing at his little son, 'and the interview I have already had the pleasure of holding with you, renders any further explanation, and consequently, any further intrusion on your valuable time, so unnecessary, that - '
'Now, Miss Dombey!' said the acid Pipchin.
'Permit me,' said the Doctor, 'one moment. Allow me to present Mrs Blimber and my daughter; who will be associated with the domestic life of our young Pilgrim to Parnassus Mrs Blimber,' for the lady, who had perhaps been in waiting, opportunely entered, followed by her daughter, that fair Sexton in spectacles, 'Mr Dombey. My daughter Cornelia, Mr Dombey. Mr Dombey, my love,' pursued the Doctor, turning to his wife, 'is so confiding as to - do you see our little friend?'
Mrs Blimber, in an excess of politeness, of which Mr Dombey was the object, apparently did not, for she was backing against the little friend, and very much endangering his position on the table. But, on this hint, she turned to admire his classical and intellectual lineaments, and turning again to Mr Dombey, said, with a sigh, that she envied his dear son.
'Like a bee, Sir,' said Mrs Blimber, with uplifted eyes, 'about to plunge into a garden of the choicest flowers, and sip the sweets for the first time Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Terence, Plautus, Cicero. What a world of honey have we here. It may appear remarkable, Mr Dombey, in one who is a wife - the wife of such a husband - '
'Hush, hush,' said Doctor Blimber. 'Fie for shame.'
'Mr Dombey will forgive the partiality of a wife,' said Mrs Blimber, with an engaging smile.
Mr Dombey answered 'Not at all:' applying those words, it is to be presumed, to the partiality, and not to the forgiveness.
'And it may seem remarkable in one who is a mother also,' resumed Mrs Blimber.
'And such a mother,' observed Mr Dombey, bowing with some confused idea of being complimentary to Cornelia.
'But really,' pursued Mrs Blimber, 'I think if I could have known Cicero, and been his friend, and talked with him in his retirement at Tusculum (beau-ti-ful Tusculum!), I could have died contented.'
A learned enthusiasm is so very contagious, that Mr Dombey half believed this was exactly his case; and even Mrs Pipchin, who was not, as we have seen, of an accommodating disposition generally, gave utterance to a little sound between a groan and a sigh, as if she would have said that nobody but Cicero could have proved a lasting consolation under that failure of the Peruvian MInes, but that he indeed would have been a very Davy-lamp of refuge.
Cornelia looked at Mr Dombey through her spectacles, as if she would have liked to crack a few quotations with him from the authority in question. But this design, if she entertained it, was frustrated by a knock at the room-door.
'Who is that?' said the Doctor. 'Oh! Come in, Toots; come in. Mr Dombey, Sir.' Toots bowed. 'Quite a coincidence!' said Doctor Blimber. 'Here we have the beginning and the end. Alpha and Omega Our head boy, Mr Dombey.'
The Doctor might have called him their head and shoulders boy, for he was at least that much taller than any of the rest. He blushed very much at finding himself among strangers, and chuckled aloud.
'An addition to our little Portico, Toots,' said the Doctor; 'Mr Dombey's son.'
Young Toots blushed again; and finding, from a solemn silence which prevailed, that he was expected to say something, said to Paul, 'How are you?' in a voice so deep, and a manner so sheepish, that if a lamb had roared it couldn't have been more surprising.
'Ask Mr Feeder, if you please, Toots,' said the Doctor, 'to prepare a few introductory volumes for Mr Dombey's son, and to allot him a convenient seat for study. My dear, I believe Mr Dombey has not seen the dormitories.'
'If Mr Dombey will walk upstairs,' said Mrs Blimber, 'I shall be more than proud to show him the dominions of the drowsy god.'
With that, Mrs Blimber, who was a lady of great suavity, and a wiry figure, and who wore a cap composed of sky-blue materials, pied upstairs with Mr Dombey and Cornelia; Mrs Pipchin following, and looking out sharp for her enemy the footman.
While they were gone, Paul sat upon the table, holding Florence by the hand, and glancing timidly from the Doctor round and round the room, while the Doctor, leaning back in his chair, with his hand in his breast as usual, held a book from him at arm's length, and read. There was something very awful in this manner of reading. It was such a determined, unimpassioned, inflexible, cold-blooded way of going to work. It left the Doctor's countenance exposed to view; and when the Doctor smiled suspiciously at his author, or knit his brows, or shook his head and made wry faces at him, as much as to say, 'Don't tell me, Sir; I know better,' it was terrific.
Toots, too, had no business to be outside the door, ostentatiously examining the wheels in his watch, and counting his half-crowns. But that didn't last long; for Doctor Blimber, happening to change the position of his tight plump legs, as if he were going to get up, Toots swiftly vanished, and appeared no more.
Mr Dombey and his conductress were soon heard coming downstairs again, talking all the way; and presently they re-entered the Doctor's study.
'I hope, Mr Dombey,' said the Doctor, laying down his book, 'that the arrangements meet your approval.'
'They are excellent, Sir,' said Mr Dombey.
'Very fair, indeed,' said Mrs Pipchin, in a low voice; never disposed to give too much encouragement.
'Mrs Pipchin,' said Mr Dombey, wheeling round, 'will, with your permission, Doctor and Mrs Blimber, visit Paul now and then.'
'Whenever Mrs Pipchin pleases,' observed the Doctor.
'Always happy to see her,' said Mrs Blimber.
'I think,' said Mr Dombey, 'I have given all the trouble I need, and may take my leave. Paul, my child,' he went close to him, as he sat upon the table. 'Good-bye.'
'Good-bye, Papa.'
The limp and careless little hand that Mr Dombey took in his, was singularly out of keeping with the wistful face. But he had no part in its sorrowful expression. It was not addressed to him. No, no. To Florence - all to Florence.
If Mr Dombey in his insolence of wealth, had ever made an enemy, hard to appease and cruelly vindictive in his hate, even such an enemy might have received the pang that wrung his proud heart then, as compensation for his injury.
He bent down, over his boy, and kissed him. If his sight were dimmed as he did so, by something that for a moment blurred the little face, and made it indistinct to him, his mental vision may have been, for that short time, the clearer perhaps.
'I shall see you soon, Paul. You are free on Saturdays and Sundays, you know.'
'Yes, Papa,' returned Paul: looking at his sister. 'On Saturdays and Sundays.'
'And you'll try and learn a great deal here, and be a clever man,' said Mr Dombey; 'won't you?'
'I'll try,' returned the child, wearily.
'And you'll soon be grown up now!' said Mr Dombey.
'Oh! very soon!' replied the child. Once more the old, old look passed rapidly across his features like a strange light. It fell on Mrs Pipchin, and extinguished itself in her black dress. That excellent ogress stepped forward to take leave and to bear off Florence, which she had long been thirsting to do. The move on her part roused Mr Dombey, whose eyes were fixed on Paul. After patting him on the head, and pressing his small hand again, he took leave of Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber, with his usual polite frigidity, and walked out of the study.
Despite his entreaty that they would not think of stirring, Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber all pressed forward to attend him to the hall; and thus Mrs Pipchin got into a state of entanglement with Miss Blimber and the Doctor, and was crowded out of the study before she could clutch Florence. To which happy accident Paul stood afterwards indebted for the dear remembrance, that Florence ran back to throw her arms round his neck, and that hers was the last face in the doorway: turned towards him with a smile of encouragement, the brighter for the tears through which it beamed.
It made his childish bosom heave and swell when it was gone; and sent the globes, the books, blind Homer and Minerva, swimming round the room. But they stopped, all of a sudden; and then he heard the loud clock in the hall still gravely inquiring 'how, is, my, lit, tle, friend? how, is, my, lit, tle, friend?' as it had done before.
He sat, with folded hands, upon his pedestal, silently listening. But he might have answered 'weary, weary! very lonely, very sad!' And there, with an aching void in his young heart, and all outside so cold, and bare, and strange, Paul sat as if he had taken life unfurnished, and the upholsterer were never coming.
 
皮普钦太太的体质是由这样坚硬的金属做成的，它虽然难免身躯虚弱，需要在吃过排骨之后休息休息，也需要依赖小羊胰脏的催眠作用才能进入梦乡，但它使威肯姆大嫂的预言完全落了空，没有显露出衰老的任何症状。然而，由于保罗对这位老太太全神贯注的兴趣并没有减弱，所以威肯姆大嫂也不愿意从她原先的立场上后退一英寸。她以她舅舅的女儿贝特西•简为坚强后盾，挖掘壕沟，构筑要塞，防卫着自己的地段，因此她以一位朋友的身份劝告贝里小姐要为发生最坏的情况作好准备，并预先警告她，她的姑妈在任何时候都可能像火药厂一样突然爆炸。
可怜的贝里毫无恶感地接受了所有这些劝告，并跟往常一样，像奴隶一样拼命做着苦工；她完全相信，皮普钦太太是世界上最值得称颂的人之一，自愿作出无数牺牲，奉献给那位尊贵的老女人的祭坛。可是贝里所作出的所有这些牺牲却被皮普钦太太的朋友们与崇拜者们记为皮普钦太太的功劳，而且还跟那件令人伤感的事实——已故的皮普钦先生是在秘鲁的矿井伤心而死的——联系起来，认为两者是一脉相承的。
例如，有一位经营食品、杂货和一般零售业的诚实的商人，与皮普钦太太之间有一本油腻的红封面的小备忘录，它总是不断地引起争议；为了这一点，登记册涉及的各方经常在铺了席子的走廊里或在关着门的客厅里举行各种秘密的磋商与会议。比瑟斯通少爷（由于印度的太阳热对他的血液发生作用的缘故，因此他产生了一副爱报复的脾气）也屡次隐约地暗示，钱款收支不符，差额没有结清；他还记得，有一次喝茶的时候，没有供应潮湿的糖。这位商人是个单身汉，并不看重外表的漂亮，有一次规规矩矩地向贝里求婚，但皮普钦太太却傲慢无礼地刻薄挖苦他，把他的求婚给拒绝了。人人都说，皮普钦太太，一位死在秘鲁矿井的男子的遗孀，这样做是多么值得称赞，还说这位老太太有着多么坚强、高尚与独立的精神。可是对可怜的贝里却没有一个人说过一句话；她哭了六个星期（她善良的姑妈一直在严厉地斥责她），并落到一个绝望的老处女的处境。
“贝里很喜欢您，是不是？”有一次当他们和那只猫一起坐在炉旁的时候，保罗问皮普钦太太。
“是的，”皮普钦太太说道。
“为什么？”保罗问道。
“为什么！”心烦意乱的老太太回答道。“您怎么能问这样的事情，先生！您为什么喜欢您的姐姐弗洛伦斯？”
“因为她很好，”保罗说道，“没有什么人能像弗洛伦斯那样。”
“唔！”皮普钦太太简单地回答道。“那么也没有什么人能像我这样，我想。”
“难道真的没有吗？”保罗在椅子里向前欠身，很专注地看着她，问道。
“没有，”老太太说道。
“这使我很高兴，”保罗认真思考地搓搓手，说道。“这是件很好的事情。”
皮普钦太太不敢问他为什么，唯恐会得到一个完全使她陷入绝境的答复。可是，为了补偿她在感情上所受到的创伤，她把比瑟斯通少爷大大地折磨了一通，直到睡觉为止，因此他在当天夜里开始作出了由陆路回到印度去的安排，办法是吃晚饭的时候偷偷地藏起四分之一块面包和一小片潮湿的荷兰乳酪，就这样开始储存起旅途中所需的食品。
皮普钦太太对小保罗和他的姐姐看管、监护了将近十二个月。他们曾经回家去过两次，但只住了几天，每个星期照常总要到旅馆里去看望董贝先生。保罗虽然看去仍旧消瘦、虚弱，而且跟他当初被托付给皮普钦太太看管时一样，仍然同样是那个老气的、安静的、喜爱幻想的孩子，但他逐渐逐渐地强壮起来，不坐车也能出去走走了；在一个星期六的下午，已经是薄暮的时候，这里接到了一个事先没有预料到的通知：董贝先生要来拜访皮普钦太太，这在城堡中引起了极大的惊慌。客厅里的人们就像被旋风刮起来一般，飞快地被赶到了楼上；寝室的门被砰砰地关上，脚从孩子们的头踩踏过去，皮普钦太太又把比瑟斯通少爷接二连三地打了一阵，来减轻一下她精神上的焦虑不安；在这之后，这位可尊敬的老太太走进了接见室，她的黑色的邦巴辛毛葛衣服使室内的光线昏暗下来；董贝先生正在室内细心观察着他的儿子和继承人的空着的扶手椅子。
“皮普钦太太，”董贝先生说道，“您好吗？”
“谢谢您，先生，”皮普钦太太说道，“从多方面考虑来说，我还不错。”
皮普钦太太经常使用这样的措词。它的意思是，考虑到她的品德、牺牲等等。
“我不能指望我的身体非常好，先生，”皮普钦太太坐到一张椅子里，缓一口气；“但我能像现在这样的健康，我是感谢天主的。”
董贝先生露出顾主满意的神情，低下了头，他觉得这正是他每个季度付出这么多的钱所要得到的。在片刻的沉默之后，他往下说道：
“皮普钦太太，我冒昧地前来拜访，是想跟您商量一下我儿子的事。过去好些时候我就有意这样做了，但却一次又一次地推迟，为的是让他的健康完全恢复过来。您在这个问题上没有什么顾虑吧，皮普钦太太？”
“布赖顿看来是个有益于健康的地方，先生，”皮普钦太太回答道。“确实很有益。”
“我打算，”董贝先生说道，“让他继续留在布赖顿。”
皮普钦太太搓搓手，灰色的眼睛注视着炉火。
“但是，”董贝先生伸出食指，继续说道，“但是可能他现在应当有一点变化，在这里过一种完全不同的生活。总而言之，皮普钦太太，这就是我这次拜访的目的。我的儿子在成长，皮普钦太太。他确实在成长。”
董贝先生说这些话时的得意神情中有一些令人伤感的东西。它表明，保罗的童年生活对他是显得多么长久，同时他的希望是怎样寄托在他生命的较后阶段的。对于任何一位像这样傲慢这样冷酷的人来说，怜悯可能是一个无法与他联系起来的字眼，然而在目前这个时刻，他似乎正好是怜悯的很好的对象。
“六岁了！”董贝先生说道，一边整整领饰——也许是为了掩藏一个控制不住的微笑，那微笑似乎片刻也不想在他的脸上展现开来，而只是想在脸的表面一掠而过就消失不见，但却没有找到一个停落的地方。“哎呀！当我们还来不及向四周看看的时候，六岁就将转变成十六岁了。”
“十年，”毫无同情心的皮普钦用哭丧的声音说道，她那冷酷的灰色眼睛冷若冰霜地闪了一下光，低垂的头阴郁地摇晃了一下，“是很长的时间。”
“这取决于境况如何，”董贝先生回答道；“不管怎么样，皮普钦太太，我的儿子已经六岁了；我担心，跟他同样年龄或者说跟他同样处于少年时期的许多孩子相比，他在学习上毫无疑问已经落后了。”他迅速地回答了那只冷若冰霜的眼睛中发出的一道他觉得是狡狯的眼光，“跟他同样处于少年时期——这个说法更恰当。可是，皮普钦太太，我的儿子不能落在他的同辈人的后面，而应当超过他们，远远地超过他们。有一个高地正等待着他去攀登。在我的儿子的未来的生活路程中没有什么听凭机会摆布或存在疑问的东西。他的生活道路是没有障碍的，预先准备好的，在他出生之前就已经筹划定了的。这样一位年轻绅士的教育是不应该耽误的。不应该让它处于不完善的状态。它必须很坚定很认真地进行，皮普钦太太。”
“唔，先生，”皮普钦太太说道，“我不会有什么异议。”
“我完全相信，皮普钦太太，”董贝先生赞同地说道，“像您这样有卓越见识的人是不会，也不愿意有异议的。”
“现在人们谈论着各种乌七八糟的废话，——比废话还不如——，说什么对年轻人开始不要强迫得太厉害，而应当循循善诱，其他等等，先生，”皮普钦太太不耐烦地擦了擦她的钩鼻，说道，“在我做孩子的时候，从来没有这样一些想法。现在也用不着这样去想。我的意见是，‘强迫他们去做’。”
“我的好夫人，”董贝先生回答道，“您真是名不虚传；请您相信，皮普钦太太，我对您优良的管理制度非常满意；只要我不足挂齿的推荐意见能有什么用的话，我将会十分高兴来推荐它。”——当董贝先生假装贬低自己的重要性时，他的高傲是超越一切限度的——，“我一直在考虑布林伯博士的学校，皮普钦太太。”
“我的近邻吗，先生？”皮普钦太太说道。“我相信这位博士的学校是一所优秀的学校。我听说管理很严格，从早到晚除了学习不干别的。”
“而且费用很贵，”董贝先生补充道。
“而且费用很贵，”皮普钦太太回答道；她紧紧抓住这个事实，仿佛遗漏了这一点，她就遗漏了它的最主要的优点之一似的。
“我跟博士通过一些信，皮普钦太太，”董贝先生急忙把他的椅子向炉火拉近一点，说道，“他根本不认为保罗上他那里去年龄太小。他举例说明好几个跟他同年龄的孩子都在那里学习希腊语。如果我本人心中对这个变动的问题有什么小小的不安的话，皮普钦太太，那不是在那一方面。我的儿子生下来就失去了母爱，所以就把他好多（太多了）幼稚的感情逐渐倾注到他姐姐的身上，因此他们两人分离开来是否会——”董贝先生没有再说下去，而是沉默地坐着。
“哎呀，这算什么！”皮普钦太太抖动着她的黑色的拜巴辛毛葛的裙子，大声喊道，一边把她内心中恶魔般的性情全都显露出来。“如果她不喜欢这样，董贝先生，那么就得教她好歹忍着点。”这位善良的太太接着立刻对她采用这样粗俗的语言表示抱歉，但她说，这就是她跟他们论断事理的方法，这一点倒是真的。
皮普钦太太昂起头来，摇晃了两下，同时对着无数个比瑟斯通与潘基皱了皱眉头；董贝先生等待她把这些动作做完之后，平静地但是正确地说道，“我说的是他，我的好夫人，他。”
皮普钦太太的管理制度本可以很容易地把同样的治疗方法也应用到保罗身上任何不舒适的地方；但是那只冷酷的灰色眼睛十分敏锐地看出，尽管董贝先生可以允许这个处方在他的女儿身上发挥效力，但它却并不是医治他儿子的特效药；她认清了这一点，于是就解释说，环境的变化，新的社交场所，他在布林伯博士学校中所过的不同的生活方式以及他必须学会的课程，将很快就会把他的注意力充分转移了。由于这个意见与董贝先生自己的希望与看法是一致的，这就使得这位绅士对皮普钦太太的智慧有了更高的评价；由于皮普钦太太在这同时为失去她亲爱的小朋友而叹息（对她来说，这并不是一个使她不知所措的打击，因为她早就预料到这一点，一开始就没有指望他跟她待在一起的时间会超过三个月），所以他对皮普钦太太没有私心这一点也产生了同样良好的印象。显然，他对这个问题已经思前顾后地进行了考虑，因为他已经构想出一个计划，并把它通告给这位恶魔：头半年他把保罗送到博士的学校中去，作为一个每周在那里寄膳寄宿六天的学生，在这期间弗洛伦斯将留在城堡中，这样她可以在星期六把弟弟接到她那里去。董贝先生说，这样就将使他逐步地“断奶”；可能他曾回想起上一次他是没有经过逐步断奶的过程的。
董贝先生在结束会晤的时候，希望在他儿子在布赖顿学习期间，皮普钦太太仍保留她作为保罗的总管理人与监督员的职务。然后他吻吻保罗，跟弗洛伦斯握握手，看到比瑟斯通少爷露着气派庄严的衣领，拍拍潘基小姐的头，使她哭了起来（她身上的这个部位特别敏感，因为皮普钦太太习惯于用她的指关节来敲它，敲出声音来，就像敲桶一样）；在这之后，他回到旅馆吃晚饭，并作出了决定：由于保罗已经长大，也长健康了，从今以后他就应该开始接受一个充实的教育过程，以便使他有能力担当起他将大显身手的职务；布林伯博士应当立即把他接到手里，负责对他进行指导。
每当一位年轻人被布林伯博士接到手里的时候，他可以毫无疑问地受到很紧的一握。博士只管理十位年轻人，但是按照最低的估计，他肚子里准备好的学问足够供应给一百个人享用。把这些学问供给这十位不幸的人狼吞虎咽，吃得饱饱的，既是他的职业，又是他的生活乐趣。
实际上，布林伯博士的学校是一个很大的温室，里面有一个催熟的器械在连续不停地运转。所有的孩子们都过早地成熟了。精神的青豌豆在圣诞节的时候就生产出来了；智力的龙须菜则全年都有。数学的醋栗（也是很酸的）在不合时令的季节中寻常无奇，它们藏身在布林伯博士栽培的灌木嫩枝之中。各色品种的希腊语与拉丁语蔬菜是在结霜冻冰的情况下，从孩子们干枯的细枝中采摘下来的。天性是完全无关紧要的。不管原来打算让一位年轻人结什么果实，布林伯博士不知怎么的都是让他按照规定的样式结出果实来。
这些全都是很有趣、很巧妙的，但催熟的制度也附带产生出它通常的一些缺点。早熟产品的滋味不是正味，它们也不好保存。而且，有一位鼻子发肿、头长得特别大的年轻人（他是这十个人当中年龄最大的一个，他“经受过了”一切），有一天突然停止生长，只是以一株茎杆的形式留在学校里。人们都说，博士对年轻的图茨搞得太过头了，当他开始留起连鬓胡子的时候，他却停止培育脑子了。
不管怎么样，年轻的图茨还是住在布林伯博士的学校里；他有极为粗哑的嗓音和极为可怜的智力；衬衫上插着饰针；背心口袋里装着一枚戒指，当学生们出去散步的时候，他就偷偷地把它带在小指头上；他经常一见钟情地爱上了培养苗木的年轻女工们，而她们连有没有他这个人都不知道；在就寝时间以后，他通过前面第三层楼左角上的窗子的小铁格子望着外面煤气灯照亮的世界，就像一个长得太大、在高空中坐得太久的天使。
博士是一位仪表堂堂的绅士，穿一套黑衣服，膝盖上有一根带子把下面的袜子系紧。他的秃头十分光亮；声音低沉；下巴是双层的，他刮胡子的时候怎么能刮进那些折缝中是件奇事。他还有一双小眼睛经常是半闭着的；一张嘴巴半开着，显出似笑非笑的样子，仿佛他在那时刚盘问过一个孩子，现在正等待着他亲自认罪。当博士把右手伸进上衣的胸口，另一只手搁在背后，脑袋几乎觉察不到地摇晃一下，向一位紧张不安的陌生人发表一些极为平淡无奇的意见的时候，他的那些意见就像是出自斯芬克斯①的金玉良言，并把他的事情给解决了。
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①斯芬克斯（sphynx）：希腊神话中有翼的狮身女面怪物。
博士的学校是一座宏大的精美的房屋，面对着海。房屋里面的格调并不令人喜悦，而是恰恰相反。黯淡的窗帘粗陋、狭窄，垂头丧气地躲藏在窗子后面。桌子和椅子像算术题中的数字一样，一行一行地排列着；举行典礼的房间十分难得生火，因此它们觉得自己就像水井，来访的客人就像投进井中的水桶一样；餐厅似乎是世界上最后一个可以吃喝的地方；除了前厅里一只大钟滴嗒滴嗒的响声外，整个房屋里没有其他声音，而那只大钟走动的声音就连顶楼里也能听到；有时也传来年轻人上课时发出的低沉的喊声，就像一群忧郁的鸽子的咕咕声一样。
布林伯小姐虽然是一位苗条、优雅的姑娘，但也没有做任何事情破坏这房屋里的严肃气氛。轻浮的胡闹与布林伯小姐格格不入。她留着短而卷曲的头发，并戴着眼镜。她在已死去的语言的坟墓中挖掘着，所以皮肤干枯，表面是沙子的颜色。布林伯小姐不需要你们那些活的语言。她所需要的语言必须是死的——完全断了气的——，那时布林伯小姐才像食尸鬼一样，把它们挖掘出来。
她的妈妈布林伯夫人本人并没有学问，但是她却装出有学问的样子，而且装得还不坏。她在一些晚会上说，如果她能认识西塞罗①的话，那么她想她就能甘心满意地死去了。她的永不改变的生活乐趣就是看着博士手下的年轻的先生们，与其他年轻人不一样，敞开大得不能再大的衬衫领子，佩戴着硬得不能再硬的领带，出去散步。她说，那是古典式的。
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①西塞罗（MarcusTulliusCicero）（公元前106—43年）：古罗马政治家、雄辩家和著作家。
至于布林格博士的助手、文学士菲德先生，他是一个人为的手摇风琴；他根据一份小小的曲调目录，一遍又一遍、毫无变化地演奏着。如果他的命运好的话，那么他可能在早年就装备好一个备用的手摇风琴；但是他的命运不好，他只有他本人这个手摇风琴，他的职业就是用这个单调的圆筒来迷糊博士手下的这些年轻的先生们的年轻的思想。这些年轻的先生们过早地操心、忧虑。铁石心肠的动词、残暴粗野的名词、毫不通融的句法，以及出现在他们梦中的练习的魔鬼在追赶着他们，使他们得不到休息；在催熟的制度下，一位年轻的先生通常在三个星期以后就失去了朝气；他在三个月以后就为世界上各种事情操心；他在四个月以后对他的父母和监护人怀着怨恨的情绪；他在五个月以后成了个老厌世者；他在六个月以后羡慕库尔提乌斯①幸运地遁身在地中；他在头十二个月末尾的时候得出结论：诗篇中的幻想和圣人的教训只不过是词与语法的汇集，在世界上没有其他意义；从此以后他就再也没有抛弃过这个结论。
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①库尔提乌斯（MarcusCurtius）：据古罗马神话传说，公元前362年，罗马广场裂开一条无底深沟；预言师说，只有把罗马最宝贵的东西扔下去，裂缝才能重新合拢。这时年轻人库尔提乌斯宣称，没有什么能比一个勇敢的公民更可宝贵的了，于是他全副武装跳下了深沟。他刚一跳下，裂缝就立即重新合拢。后来这处地方变成了一片池塘，称为库尔提乌斯湖（LacusCurtius）。
可是他在博士的温室中一直继续生长着，生长着，生长着。当他把他冬天生长出的产品带回家中，呈现在他的亲友面前时，博士就得到了极大的光荣与声誉。
有一天，保罗怀着一颗忐忑不安的心，由他父亲握着小小的右手，站立在博士的门阶上。他的另一只手由弗洛论斯紧紧地握在她的手中。那只小手是握得多么紧，而另一只手是多么松驰与冷淡呵！
皮普钦太太像只凶鸟，长着乌黑的羽毛和钩状的喙，在他的牺牲品后面盘旋。因为董贝先生脑子里在思考重大的事情，走得很快，所以她走得上气不接下气；当等着开门的时候，她嘶哑地发出了哭丧的声音。
“保罗，”董贝先生喜不自胜地说道。“这就是真正通向董贝父子和有钱的道路。你几乎已成为一个大人了。”
“几乎，”孩子回答道。
即使是他那孩子的激动也不能控制他回答时伴随着的顽皮的、奇妙的但却令人感动的眼光。
它使董贝先生脸上露出了隐约的、不满的表情；但这时门开了，它很快就消失了。
“我想布林伯博士在家吧？”董贝先生说道。
那仆人说是的；当他们走进去的时候，他看着保罗，仿佛他是只小耗子，而那座房屋则仿佛是只捕鼠笼似的。他是一位弱视的青年，脸上露出一丝难以觉察的龇牙咧嘴的笑容或它最初闪出的一道微光。这仅仅是低能的表现而已；但皮普钦太太却凭空地认为这是无礼，所以就立刻恶狠狠地抓住了他。
“你怎么敢在有身份的先生背后发笑？”皮普钦太太说道。
“你又把我当作什么人？”
“我没有笑任何人；我还可以肯定，我没有把您小看了，夫人，”那位年轻人惊慌地回答道。
“一群吊儿郎当的懒狗！”皮普钦太太说，“只配去转动烤肉叉①！去告诉你的主人，董贝先生来了，要不你的结果就更糟！”
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①英国旧时社会中训练狗用踏车来转动烤肉叉。
那位弱视的年轻人十分温顺地离开去执行任务；不久就回来请他们到博士的书房里去。
“你又笑了，先生，”皮普钦太太笑道；她走在后面，这时从他身边穿过前厅。
“我没有笑，”被欺压得很痛苦的年轻人回答道。“我从来没有见到这样的事情！”
“怎么回事，皮普钦太太？”董贝先生回过头来看了一下，说道。“请轻一些！”
皮普钦太太出于对董贝先生的尊敬，走过的时候对那位年轻人只是咕哝了几声，同时说道，“啊，他是个宝贝家伙”，一边离开那位年轻人；那位年轻人是极为温顺和愚钝的，这件事情甚至使他伤心地掉了泪。可是皮普钦太太惯于欺压所有温顺的人们；她的朋友们说，在秘鲁矿井的事情发生之后，这有什么好奇怪的呢？
博士坐在他的奇特的书房中，每只膝盖上摆着一个地球仪，四周都是书籍，荷马①在门的上面，米涅瓦②在壁炉架上。“您好吗，先生？”他对董贝先生说道；“我的小朋友好吗？”
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①荷马（Homer）：公元前10世纪前后的希腊盲诗人；《伊利亚特》及《奥德赛》两大著名史诗的作者。
②米涅瓦（Minerva）：罗马神话中司智慧、学问、战争的女神。
博士的声音像风琴一样庄重沉着；当他停止讲话的时候，前厅中的大钟似乎（至少保罗觉得是这样）接着他的话，继续往下说道，“我，的，小，朋，友，好，吗？我，的，小，朋，友，好，吗？”一遍，一遍，又一遍地重复说着。
小朋友太小了，从博士坐着的地方，越过桌子上的书去看是看不见的；博士就试图通过桌腿去看他，但也是徒劳无益；董贝先生看到这一点，就把保罗抱起来，让他坐在房间中间面对着博士的另一张小桌子上，使博士摆脱了困难。
“哈！”博士把手伸进上衣的胸间，仰靠在椅子中说道。
“现在我看见我的小朋友了。您好吗，我的小朋友？”
前厅中的钟不赞同把词的组合形式进行这样的改变，继续重复说道，“我，的，小，朋，友，好，吗？我，的，小，朋，友，好，吗？”
“很好，谢谢您，先生，”保罗回答了博士，也回答了钟。
“哈！”布林伯博士说道。“我们将把他培养成一个大人吗？”
“你听到了吗，保罗？”董贝先生补充了一句。保罗默不作声。
“我们将把他培养成一个大人吗？”博士重复问道。
“我宁肯当个孩子，”保罗回答道。
“真的吗？”博士说道。“为什么？”
孩子坐在桌子上看着他，脸上露出了被压抑的情绪的奇怪表情，一边用一只手自豪地敲打着膝盖，仿佛眼泪已经在膝盖下面涌上来，他已把它们压下去了。但是在这同时，他的另一只手却向一边伸出去，伸出去——伸得更远一些——，一直伸到弗洛伦斯的脖子上。“这就是为什么，”它似乎这么说道；然后他那镇定沉着的神色改变了，消失了，颤动着的嘴唇松驰了，眼泪汪汪地滚流出来。
“皮普钦太太，”他的父亲抱怨地说道，“我实在很不高兴看到这一点。”
“离开他，董贝小姐，照我的话做，”那位女监管人说道。
“不要紧，”博士不动感情地点点头，让皮普钦太太回去。
“不要紧；我们将很快用新的关心与新的印象来代替，董贝先生，您还跟以前一样希望我的小朋友获得——”
“一切！劳驾您，博士，”董贝先生坚决地回答道。
“好的，”博士说道；他半闭着眼睛，露出了惯常的笑容，似乎以一种对他将要喂养的某个精选的小动物可能怀有的兴趣打量着保罗，“好，好极了。哈！我们将向我们的小朋友传授很多种知识，而且我敢说，使他迅速进步。完全是一块处女地，我想您曾经这样说过吧，董贝先生？”
“除了在家里以及从这位女士那里做过一些普通的准备之外，”董贝先生一边介绍皮普钦太太，一边回答道；皮普钦太太立刻让她的整个肌肉系统紧张起来，同时挑战地喷着鼻息，以防博士贬损她。“除了这些之外，保罗到现在为止，什么都还没有学习过。”
布林伯博士对皮普钦太太这种毫不足取的侵犯温和地表示容忍，低下头说道，他很高兴听到这一点。他搓搓手说，在这个基础上开始是非常令人满意的。然后他又斜眼瞅着保罗，仿佛他很想当场就跟他聊聊希腊字母似的。
“这样一种情况，布林伯博士，”董贝向他的小儿子看了一眼，继续说道，“加上我又有幸跟您进行过会晤，因此我确实就不必要再作进一步的说明来侵占您宝贵的时间了，所以——”
“好了，董贝小姐”！皮普钦尖刻地说道。
“请允许我再耽搁你们一会儿，”博士说道，“请允许我介绍一下布林伯夫人和我的女儿，她们将与我们前往帕纳萨斯①参拜的年轻人的家庭生活有关。这是布林伯夫人，”那位可能一直在等待着的夫人及时地走了进来，后面跟着她的女儿，那位戴着眼镜的美丽的掘墓的教堂司事②；“这是董贝先生。这是我的女儿科妮莉亚，董贝先生。我亲爱的，”博士转向他的妻子，继续说道，“董贝先生对我们十分信任，因此——你看到我们的小朋友了吗？”
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①帕纳萨斯（Parnassus）：希腊中部的山峰，传说为太阳神阿波罗及诗神缪斯的灵地。
②教堂司事（Sexton）：教堂司事，担任教堂内外管理、敲钟、墓地等工作，这里是把布林伯小姐比做一位“掘墓人”。
布林伯夫人原先只把董贝先生作为她那过分的礼貌的目标，显然没有看到这位小朋友，因为她背对着他，对他在桌子上的地位造成很大的危险。但是，她听到这句暗示的话以后，就转过身去欣赏他的面貌中古典的与智慧的特色，然后又转回来，叹了一口气，对董贝先生说，她羡慕他的亲爱的儿子。
“像一只蜜蜂一样，先生，”布林伯夫人抬起眼睛，说道，“就将飞进一个盛开着最美好的花朵的花园里，头一次去领略那芳甜的滋味。维吉尔①，贺拉斯②，奥维德③，泰伦斯④，普劳图斯⑤，西塞罗。我们这里拥有一个什么样的蜜的世界呀。董贝先生，一个妻子说这些话也许看来是令人惊异的，这样一位丈夫的妻子——”
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①维吉尔（拉丁语全名为PubliusVirgiliusMaro，英译名为Virgil，公元前70—19年）：古罗马著名诗人。
②贺拉斯（拉丁语全名为QuintusHoratiusFlacus，英译名为Horace，公元前65—8年）：古罗马著名诗人。
③奥维德（拉丁语全名为PubliusOvidiusNaso，英译名为Ovid，公元前48—17？年）：古罗马著名诗人。
④泰伦斯（拉丁语全名为PubliusTerentiniusAfer，英译名为Terence，公元前186A185—159？年）：古罗马著名喜剧作家。
⑤普劳图斯（拉丁语全名为TitusMaccusPlautus，英译名为Plautus，公元前254？—184年）：古罗马著名喜剧作家。
“别说了，别说了，”布林伯博士说道。“真不害羞。”
“董贝先生会原谅一位妻子的偏心的，”布林伯夫人露着迷人的微笑，说道。
Chapter 12
Paul's Education
After the lapse of some minutes, which appeared an immense time to little Paul Dombey on the table, Doctor Blimber came back. The Doctor's walk was stately, and calculated to impress the juvenile mind with solemn feelings. It was a sort of march; but when the Doctor put out his right foot, he gravely turned upon his axis, with a semi-circular sweep towards the left; and when he put out his left foot, he turned in the same manner towards the right. So that he seemed, at every stride he took, to look about him as though he were saying, 'Can anybody have the goodness to indicate any subject, in any direction, on which I am uninformed? I rather think not'
Mrs Blimber and Miss Blimber came back in the Doctor's company; and the Doctor, lifting his new pupil off the table, delivered him over to Miss Blimber.
'Cornelia,' said the Doctor, 'Dombey will be your charge at first. Bring him on, Cornelia, bring him on.'
Miss Blimber received her young ward from the Doctor's hands; and Paul, feeling that the spectacles were surveying him, cast down his eyes.
'How old are you, Dombey?' said Miss Blimber.
'Six,' answered Paul, wondering, as he stole a glance at the young lady, why her hair didn't grow long like Florence's, and why she was like a boy.
'How much do you know of your Latin Grammar, Dombey?' said Miss Blimber.
'None of it,' answered Paul. Feeling that the answer was a shock to Miss Blimber's sensibility, he looked up at the three faces that were looking down at him, and said:
'I have'n't been well. I have been a weak child. I couldn't learn a Latin Grammar when I was out, every day, with old Glubb. I wish you'd tell old Glubb to come and see me, if you please.'
'What a dreadfully low name' said Mrs Blimber. 'Unclassical to a degree! Who is the monster, child?'
'What monster?' inquired Paul.
'Glubb,' said Mrs Blimber, with a great disrelish.
'He's no more a monster than you are,' returned Paul.
'What!' cried the Doctor, in a terrible voice. 'Ay, ay, ay? Aha! What's that?'
Paul was dreadfully frightened; but still he made a stand for the absent Glubb, though he did it trembling.
'He's a very nice old man, Ma'am,' he said. 'He used to draw my couch. He knows all about the deep sea, and the fish that are in it, and the great monsters that come and lie on rocks in the sun, and dive into the water again when they're startled, blowing and splashing so, that they can be heard for miles. There are some creatures, said Paul, warming with his subject, 'I don't know how many yards long, and I forget their names, but Florence knows, that pretend to be in distress; and when a man goes near them, out of compassion, they open their great jaws, and attack him. But all he has got to do,' said Paul, boldly tendering this information to the very Doctor himself, 'is to keep on turning as he runs away, and then, as they turn slowly, because they are so long, and can't bend, he's sure to beat them. And though old Glubb don't know why the sea should make me think of my Mama that's dead, or what it is that it is always saying - always saying! he knows a great deal about it. And I wish,' the child concluded, with a sudden falling of his countenance, and failing in his animation, as he looked like one forlorn, upon the three strange faces, 'that you'd let old Glubb come here to see me, for I know him very well, and he knows me.
'Ha!' said the Doctor, shaking his head; 'this is bad, but study will do much.'
Mrs Blimber opined, with something like a shiver, that he was an unaccountable child; and, allowing for the difference of visage, looked at him pretty much as Mrs Pipchin had been used to do.
'Take him round the house, Cornelia,' said the Doctor, 'and familiarise him with his new sphere. Go with that young lady, Dombey.'
Dombey obeyed; giving his hand to the abstruse Cornelia, and looking at her sideways, with timid curiosity, as they went away together. For her spectacles, by reason of the glistening of the glasses, made her so mysterious, that he didn't know where she was looking, and was not indeed quite sure that she had any eyes at all behind them.
Cornelia took him first to the schoolroom, which was situated at the back of the hall, and was approached through two baize doors, which deadened and muffled the young gentlemen's voices. Here, there were eight young gentlemen in various stages of mental prostration, all very hard at work, and very grave indeed. Toots, as an old hand, had a desk to himself in one corner: and a magnificent man, of immense age, he looked, in Paul's young eyes, behind it.
Mr Feeder, B.A., who sat at another little desk, had his Virgil stop on, and was slowly grinding that tune to four young gentlemen. Of the remaining four, two, who grasped their foreheads convulsively, were engaged in solving mathematical problems; one with his face like a dirty window, from much crying, was endeavouring to flounder through a hopeless number of lines before dinner; and one sat looking at his task in stony stupefaction and despair - which it seemed had been his condition ever since breakfast time.
The appearance of a new boy did not create the sensation that might have been expected. Mr Feeder, B.A. (who was in the habit of shaving his head for coolness, and had nothing but little bristles on it), gave him a bony hand, and told him he was glad to see him - which Paul would have been very glad to have told him, if he could have done so with the least sincerity. Then Paul, instructed by Cornelia, shook hands with the four young gentlemen at Mr Feeder's desk; then with the two young gentlemen at work on the problems, who were very feverish; then with the young gentleman at work against time, who was very inky; and lastly with the young gentleman in a state of stupefaction, who was flabby and quite cold.
Paul having been already introduced to Toots, that pupil merely chuckled and breathed hard, as his custom was, and pursued the occupation in which he was engaged. It was not a severe one; for on account of his having 'gone through' so much (in more senses than one), and also of his having, as before hinted, left off blowing in his prime, Toots now had licence to pursue his own course of study: which was chiefly to write long letters to himself from persons of distinction, adds 'P. Toots, Esquire, Brighton, Sussex,' and to preserve them in his desk with great care.
These ceremonies passed, Cornelia led Paul upstairs to the top of the house; which was rather a slow journey, on account of Paul being obliged to land both feet on every stair, before he mounted another. But they reached their journey's end at last; and there, in a front room, looking over the wild sea, Cornelia showed him a nice little bed with white hangings, close to the window, on which there was already beautifully written on a card in round text - down strokes very thick, and up strokes very fine - DOMBEY; while two other little bedsteads in the same room were announced, through like means, as respectively appertaining unto BRIGGS and TOZER.
Just as they got downstairs again into the hall, Paul saw the weak-eyed young man who had given that mortal offence to Mrs Pipchin, suddenly seize a very large drumstick, and fly at a gong that was hanging up, as if he had gone mad, or wanted vengeance. Instead of receiving warning, however, or being instantly taken into custody, the young man left off unchecked, after having made a dreadful noise. Then Cornelia Blimber said to Dombey that dinner would be ready in a quarter of an hour, and perhaps he had better go into the schoolroom among his 'friends.'
So Dombey, deferentially passing the great clock which was still as anxious as ever to know how he found himself, opened the schoolroom door a very little way, and strayed in like a lost boy: shutting it after him with some difficulty. His friends were all dispersed about the room except the stony friend, who remained immoveable. Mr Feeder was stretching himself in his grey gown, as if, regardless of expense, he were resolved to pull the sleeves off.
'Heigh ho hum!' cried Mr Feeder, shaking himself like a cart-horse. 'Oh dear me, dear me! Ya-a-a-ah!'
Paul was quite alarmed by Mr Feeder's yawning; it was done on such a great scale, and he was so terribly in earnest. All the boys too (Toots excepted) seemed knocked up, and were getting ready for dinner - some newly tying their neckcloths, which were very stiff indeed; and others washing their hands or brushing their hair, in an adjoining ante-chamber - as if they didn't think they should enjoy it at all.
Young Toots who was ready beforehand, and had therefore nothing to do, and had leisure to bestow upon Paul, said, with heavy good nature:
'Sit down, Dombey.'
'Thank you, Sir,' said Paul.
His endeavouring to hoist himself on to a very high window-seat, and his slipping down again, appeared to prepare Toots's mind for the reception of a discovery.
'You're a very small chap;' said Mr Toots.
'Yes, Sir, I'm small,' returned Paul. 'Thank you, Sir.'
For Toots had lifted him into the seat, and done it kindly too.
'Who's your tailor?' inquired Toots, after looking at him for some moments.
'It's a woman that has made my clothes as yet,' said Paul. 'My sister's dressmaker.'
'My tailor's Burgess and Co.,' said Toots. 'Fash'nable. But very dear.'
Paul had wit enough to shake his head, as if he would have said it was easy to see that; and indeed he thought so.
'Your father's regularly rich, ain't he?' inquired Mr Toots.
'Yes, Sir,' said Paul. 'He's Dombey and Son.'
'And which?' demanded Toots.
'And Son, Sir,' replied Paul.
Mr Toots made one or two attempts, in a low voice, to fix the Firm in his mind; but not quite succeeding, said he would get Paul to mention the name again to-morrow morning, as it was rather important. And indeed he purposed nothing less than writing himself a private and confidential letter from Dombey and Son immediately.
By this time the other pupils (always excepting the stony boy) gathered round. They were polite, but pale; and spoke low; and they were so depressed in their spirits, that in comparison with the general tone of that company, Master Bitherstone was a perfect Miller, or complete Jest Book.' And yet he had a sense of injury upon him, too, had Bitherstone.
'You sleep in my room, don't you?' asked a solemn young gentleman, whose shirt-collar curled up the lobes of his ears.
'Master Briggs?' inquired Paul.
'Tozer,' said the young gentleman.
Paul answered yes; and Tozer pointing out the stony pupil, said that was Briggs. Paul had already felt certain that it must be either Briggs or Tozer, though he didn't know why.
'Is yours a strong constitution?' inquired Tozer.
Paul said he thought not. Tozer replied that he thought not also, judging from Paul's looks, and that it was a pity, for it need be. He then asked Paul if he were going to begin with Cornelia; and on Paul saying 'yes,' all the young gentlemen (Briggs excepted) gave a low groan.
It was drowned in the tintinnabulation of the gong, which sounding again with great fury, there was a general move towards the dining-room; still excepting Briggs the stony boy, who remained where he was, and as he was; and on its way to whom Paul presently encountered a round of bread, genteelly served on a plate and napkin, and with a silver fork lying crosswise on the top of it.
Doctor Blimber was already in his place in the dining-room, at the top of the table, with Miss Blimber and Mrs Blimber on either side of him. Mr Feeder in a black coat was at the bottom. Paul's chair was next to Miss Blimber; but it being found, when he sat in it, that his eyebrows were not much above the level of the table-cloth, some books were brought in from the Doctor's study, on which he was elevated, and on which he always sat from that time - carrying them in and out himself on after occasions, like a little elephant and castle.'
Grace having been said by the Doctor, dinner began. There was some nice soup; also roast meat, boiled meat, vegetables, pie, and cheese. Every young gentleman had a massive silver fork, and a napkin; and all the arrangements were stately and handsome. In particular, there was a butler in a blue coat and bright buttons, who gave quite a winey flavour to the table beer; he poured it out so superbly.
Nobody spoke, unless spoken to, except Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber, who conversed occasionally. Whenever a young gentleman was not actually engaged with his knife and fork or spoon, his eye, with an irresistible attraction, sought the eye of Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, or Miss Blimber, and modestly rested there. Toots appeared to be the only exception to this rule. He sat next Mr Feeder on Paul's side of the table, and frequently looked behind and before the intervening boys to catch a glimpse of Paul.
Only once during dinner was there any conversation that included the young gentlemen. It happened at the epoch of the cheese, when the Doctor, having taken a glass of port wine, and hemmed twice or thrice, said:
'It is remarkable, Mr Feeder, that the Romans - '
At the mention of this terrible people, their implacable enemies, every young gentleman fastened his gaze upon the Doctor, with an assumption of the deepest interest. One of the number who happened to be drinking, and who caught the Doctor's eye glaring at him through the side of his tumbler, left off so hastily that he was convulsed for some moments, and in the sequel ruined Doctor Blimber's point.
'It is remarkable, Mr Feeder,' said the Doctor, beginning again slowly, 'that the Romans, in those gorgeous and profuse entertainments of which we read in the days of the Emperors, when luxury had attained a height unknown before or since, and when whole provinces were ravaged to supply the splendid means of one Imperial Banquet - '
Here the offender, who had been swelling and straining, and waiting in vain for a full stop, broke out violently.
'Johnson,' said Mr Feeder, in a low reproachful voice, 'take some water.'
The Doctor, looking very stern, made a pause until the water was brought, and then resumed:
'And when, Mr Feeder - '
But Mr Feeder, who saw that Johnson must break out again, and who knew that the Doctor would never come to a period before the young gentlemen until he had finished all he meant to say, couldn't keep his eye off Johnson; and thus was caught in the fact of not looking at the Doctor, who consequently stopped.
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' said Mr Feeder, reddening. 'I beg your pardon, Doctor Blimber.'
'And when,' said the Doctor, raising his voice, 'when, Sir, as we read, and have no reason to doubt - incredible as it may appear to the vulgar - of our time - the brother of Vitellius prepared for him a feast, in which were served, of fish, two thousand dishes - '
'Take some water, Johnson - dishes, Sir,' said Mr Feeder.
'Of various sorts of fowl, five thousand dishes.'
'Or try a crust of bread,' said Mr Feeder.
'And one dish,' pursued Doctor Blimber, raising his voice still higher as he looked all round the table, 'called, from its enormous dimensions, the Shield of Minerva, and made, among other costly ingredients, of the brains of pheasants - '
'Ow, ow, ow!' (from Johnson.)
'Woodcocks - '
'Ow, ow, ow!'
'The sounds of the fish called scari - '
'You'll burst some vessel in your head,' said Mr Feeder. 'You had better let it come.'
'And the spawn of the lamprey, brought from the Carpathian Sea,' pursued the Doctor, in his severest voice; 'when we read of costly entertainments such as these, and still remember, that we have a Titus - '
'What would be your mother's feelings if you died of apoplexy!' said Mr Feeder.
'A Domitian - '
'And you're blue, you know,' said Mr Feeder.
'A Nero, a Tiberius, a Caligula, a Heliogabalus, and many more, pursued the Doctor; 'it is, Mr Feeder - if you are doing me the honour to attend - remarkable; VERY remarkable, Sir - '
But Johnson, unable to suppress it any longer, burst at that moment into such an overwhelming fit of coughing, that although both his immediate neighbours thumped him on the back, and Mr Feeder himself held a glass of water to his lips, and the butler walked him up and down several times between his own chair and the sideboard, like a sentry, it was a full five minutes before he was moderately composed. Then there was a profound silence.
'Gentlemen,' said Doctor Blimber, 'rise for Grace! Cornelia, lift Dombey down' - nothing of whom but his scalp was accordingly seen above the tablecloth. 'Johnson will repeat to me tomorrow morning before breakfast, without book, and from the Greek Testament, the first chapter of the Epistle of Saint Paul to the Ephesians. We will resume our studies, Mr Feeder, in half-an-hour.'
The young gentlemen bowed and withdrew. Mr Feeder did likewise. During the half-hour, the young gentlemen, broken into pairs, loitered arm-in-arm up and down a small piece of ground behind the house, or endeavoured to kindle a spark of animation in the breast of Briggs. But nothing happened so vulgar as play. Punctually at the appointed time, the gong was sounded, and the studies, under the joint auspices of Doctor Blimber and Mr Feeder, were resumed.
As the Olympic game of lounging up and down had been cut shorter than usual that day, on Johnson's account, they all went out for a walk before tea. Even Briggs (though he hadn't begun yet) partook of this dissipation; in the enjoyment of which he looked over the cliff two or three times darkly. Doctor Blimber accompanied them; and Paul had the honour of being taken in tow by the Doctor himself: a distinguished state of things, in which he looked very little and feeble.
Tea was served in a style no less polite than the dinner; and after tea, the young gentlemen rising and bowing as before, withdrew to fetch up the unfinished tasks of that day, or to get up the already looming tasks of to-morrow. In the meantime Mr Feeder withdrew to his own room; and Paul sat in a corner wondering whether Florence was thinking of him, and what they were all about at Mrs Pipchin's.
Mr Toots, who had been detained by an important letter from the Duke of Wellington, found Paul out after a time; and having looked at him for a long while, as before, inquired if he was fond of waistcoats.
Paul said 'Yes, Sir.'
'So am I,' said Toots.
No word more spoke Toots that night; but he stood looking at Paul as if he liked him; and as there was company in that, and Paul was not inclined to talk, it answered his purpose better than conversation.
At eight o'clock or so, the gong sounded again for prayers in the dining-room, where the butler afterwards presided over a side-table, on which bread and cheese and beer were spread for such young gentlemen as desired to partake of those refreshments. The ceremonies concluded by the Doctor's saying, 'Gentlemen, we will resume our studies at seven to-morrow;' and then, for the first time, Paul saw Cornelia Blimber's eye, and saw that it was upon him. When the Doctor had said these words, 'Gentlemen, we will resume our studies at seven tomorrow,' the pupils bowed again, and went to bed.
In the confidence of their own room upstairs, Briggs said his head ached ready to split, and that he should wish himself dead if it wasn't for his mother, and a blackbird he had at home Tozer didn't say much, but he sighed a good deal, and told Paul to look out, for his turn would come to-morrow. After uttering those prophetic words, he undressed himself moodily, and got into bed. Briggs was in his bed too, and Paul in his bed too, before the weak-eyed young man appeared to take away the candle, when he wished them good-night and pleasant dreams. But his benevolent wishes were in vain, as far as Briggs and Tozer were concerned; for Paul, who lay awake for a long while, and often woke afterwards, found that Briggs was ridden by his lesson as a nightmare: and that Tozer, whose mind was affected in his sleep by similar causes, in a minor degree talked unknown tongues, or scraps of Greek and Latin - it was all one to Paul- which, in the silence of night, had an inexpressibly wicked and guilty effect.
Paul had sunk into a sweet sleep, and dreamed that he was walking hand in hand with Florence through beautiful gardens, when they came to a large sunflower which suddenly expanded itself into a gong, and began to sound. Opening his eyes, he found that it was a dark, windy morning, with a drizzling rain: and that the real gong was giving dreadful note of preparation, down in the hall.
So he got up directly, and found Briggs with hardly any eyes, for nightmare and grief had made his face puffy, putting his boots on: while Tozer stood shivering and rubbing his shoulders in a very bad humour. Poor Paul couldn't dress himself easily, not being used to it, and asked them if they would have the goodness to tie some strings for him; but as Briggs merely said 'Bother!' and Tozer, 'Oh yes!' he went down when he was otherwise ready, to the next storey, where he saw a pretty young woman in leather gloves, cleaning a stove. The young woman seemed surprised at his appearance, and asked him where his mother was. When Paul told her she was dead, she took her gloves off, and did what he wanted; and furthermore rubbed his hands to warm them; and gave him a kiss; and told him whenever he wanted anything of that sort - meaning in the dressing way - to ask for 'Melia; which Paul, thanking her very much, said he certainly would. He then proceeded softly on his journey downstairs, towards the room in which the young gentlemen resumed their studies, when, passing by a door that stood ajar, a voice from within cried, 'Is that Dombey?' On Paul replying, 'Yes, Ma'am:' for he knew the voice to be Miss Blimber's: Miss Blimber said, 'Come in, Dombey.' And in he went. Miss Blimber presented exactly the appearance she had presented yesterday, except that she wore a shawl. Her little light curls were as crisp as ever, and she had already her spectacles on, which made Paul wonder whether she went to bed in them. She had a cool little sitting-room of her own up there, with some books in it, and no fire But Miss Blimber was never cold, and never sleepy.
Now, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, 'I am going out for a constitutional.'
Paul wondered what that was, and why she didn't send the footman out to get it in such unfavourable weather. But he made no observation on the subject: his attention being devoted to a little pile of new books, on which Miss Blimber appeared to have been recently engaged.
'These are yours, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber.
'All of 'em, Ma'am?' said Paul.
'Yes,' returned Miss Blimber; 'and Mr Feeder will look you out some more very soon, if you are as studious as I expect you will be, Dombey.'
'Thank you, Ma'am,' said Paul.
'I am going out for a constitutional,' resumed Miss Blimber; 'and while I am gone, that is to say in the interval between this and breakfast, Dombey, I wish you to read over what I have marked in these books, and to tell me if you quite understand what you have got to learn. Don't lose time, Dombey, for you have none to spare, but take them downstairs, and begin directly.'
'Yes, Ma'am,' answered Paul.
There were so many of them, that although Paul put one hand under the bottom book and his other hand and his chin on the top book, and hugged them all closely, the middle book slipped out before he reached the door, and then they all tumbled down on the floor. Miss Blimber said, 'Oh, Dombey, Dombey, this is really very careless!' and piled them up afresh for him; and this time, by dint of balancing them with great nicety, Paul got out of the room, and down a few stairs before two of them escaped again. But he held the rest so tight, that he only left one more on the first floor, and one in the passage; and when he had got the main body down into the schoolroom, he set off upstairs again to collect the stragglers. Having at last amassed the whole library, and climbed into his place, he fell to work, encouraged by a remark from Tozer to the effect that he 'was in for it now;' which was the only interruption he received till breakfast time. At that meal, for which he had no appetite, everything was quite as solemn and genteel as at the others; and when it was finished, he followed Miss Blimber upstairs.
'Now, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber. 'How have you got on with those books?'
They comprised a little English, and a deal of Latin - names of things, declensions of articles and substantives, exercises thereon, and preliminary rules - a trifle of orthography, a glance at ancient history, a wink or two at modern ditto, a few tables, two or three weights and measures, and a little general information. When poor Paul had spelt out number two, he found he had no idea of number one; fragments whereof afterwards obtruded themselves into number three, which slided into number four, which grafted itself on to number two. So that whether twenty Romuluses made a Remus, or hic haec hoc was troy weight, or a verb always agreed with an ancient Briton, or three times four was Taurus a bull, were open questions with him.
'Oh, Dombey, Dombey!' said Miss Blimber, 'this is very shocking.'
'If you please,' said Paul, 'I think if I might sometimes talk a little to old Glubb, I should be able to do better.'
'Nonsense, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber. 'I couldn't hear of it. This is not the place for Glubbs of any kind. You must take the books down, I suppose, Dombey, one by one, and perfect yourself in the day's instalment of subject A, before you turn at all to subject B. I am sorry to say, Dombey, that your education appears to have been very much neglected.'
'So Papa says,' returned Paul; 'but I told you - I have been a weak child. Florence knows I have. So does Wickam.'
'Who is Wickam?' asked Miss Blimber.
'She has been my nurse,' Paul answered.
'I must beg you not to mention Wickam to me, then,' said Miss Blimber.'I couldn't allow it'.
'You asked me who she was,' said Paul.
'Very well,' returned Miss Blimber; 'but this is all very different indeed from anything of that sort, Dombey, and I couldn't think of permitting it. As to having been weak, you must begin to be strong. And now take away the top book, if you please, Dombey, and return when you are master of the theme.'
Miss Blimber expressed her opinions on the subject of Paul's uninstructed state with a gloomy delight, as if she had expected this result, and were glad to find that they must be in constant communication. Paul withdrew with the top task, as he was told, and laboured away at it, down below: sometimes remembering every word of it, and sometimes forgetting it all, and everything else besides: until at last he ventured upstairs again to repeat the lesson, when it was nearly all driven out of his head before he began, by Miss Blimber's shutting up the book, and saying, 'Good, Dombey!' a proceeding so suggestive of the knowledge inside of her, that Paul looked upon the young lady with consternation, as a kind of learned Guy Faux, or artificial Bogle, stuffed full of scholastic straw.
He acquitted himself very well, nevertheless; and Miss Blimber, commending him as giving promise of getting on fast, immediately provided him with subject B; from which he passed to C, and even D before dinner. It was hard work, resuming his studies, soon after dinner; and he felt giddy and confused and drowsy and dull. But all the other young gentlemen had similar sensations, and were obliged to resume their studies too, if there were any comfort in that. It was a wonder that the great clock in the hall, instead of being constant to its first inquiry, never said, 'Gentlemen, we will now resume our studies,' for that phrase was often enough repeated in its neighbourhood. The studies went round like a mighty wheel, and the young gentlemen were always stretched upon it.
After tea there were exercises again, and preparations for next day by candlelight. And in due course there was bed; where, but for that resumption of the studies which took place in dreams, were rest and sweet forgetfulness.
Oh Saturdays! Oh happy Saturdays, when Florence always came at noon, and never would, in any weather, stay away, though Mrs Pipchin snarled and growled, and worried her bitterly. Those Saturdays were Sabbaths for at least two little Christians among all the Jews, and did the holy Sabbath work of strengthening and knitting up a brother's and a sister's love.
Not even Sunday nights - the heavy Sunday nights, whose shadow darkened the first waking burst of light on Sunday mornings - could mar those precious Saturdays. Whether it was the great sea-shore, where they sat, and strolled together; or whether it was only Mrs Pipchin's dull back room, in which she sang to him so softly, with his drowsy head upon her arm; Paul never cared. It was Florence. That was all he thought of. So, on Sunday nights, when the Doctor's dark door stood agape to swallow him up for another week, the time was come for taking leave of Florence; no one else.
Mrs Wickam had been drafted home to the house in town, and Miss Nipper, now a smart young woman, had come down. To many a single combat with Mrs Pipchin, did Miss Nipper gallantly devote herself, and if ever Mrs Pipchin in all her life had found her match, she had found it now. Miss Nipper threw away the scabbard the first morning she arose in Mrs Pipchin's house. She asked and gave no quarter. She said it must be war, and war it was; and Mrs Pipchin lived from that time in the midst of surprises, harassings, and defiances, and skirmishing attacks that came bouncing in upon her from the passage, even in unguarded moments of chops, and carried desolation to her very toast.
Miss Nipper had returned one Sunday night with Florence, from walking back with Paul to the Doctor's, when Florence took from her bosom a little piece of paper, on which she had pencilled down some words.
'See here, Susan,' she said. 'These are the names of the little books that Paul brings home to do those long exercises with, when he is so tired. I copied them last night while he was writing.'
'Don't show 'em to me, Miss Floy, if you please,' returned Nipper, 'I'd as soon see Mrs Pipchin.'
'I want you to buy them for me, Susan, if you will, tomorrow morning. I have money enough,' said Florence.
'Why, goodness gracious me, Miss Floy,' returned Miss Nipper, 'how can you talk like that, when you have books upon books already, and masterses and mississes a teaching of you everything continual, though my belief is that your Pa, Miss Dombey, never would have learnt you nothing, never would have thought of it, unless you'd asked him - when he couldn't well refuse; but giving consent when asked, and offering when unasked, Miss, is quite two things; I may not have my objections to a young man's keeping company with me, and when he puts the question, may say "yes," but that's not saying "would you be so kind as like me."'
'But you can buy me the books, Susan; and you will, when you know why I want them.'
'Well, Miss, and why do you want 'em?' replied Nipper; adding, in a lower voice, 'If it was to fling at Mrs Pipchin's head, I'd buy a cart-load.'
'Paul has a great deal too much to do, Susan,' said Florence, 'I am sure of it.'
'And well you may be, Miss,' returned her maid, 'and make your mind quite easy that the willing dear is worked and worked away. If those is Latin legs,' exclaimed Miss Nipper, with strong feeling - in allusion to Paul's; 'give me English ones.'
'I am afraid he feels lonely and lost at Doctor Blimber's, Susan,' pursued Florence, turning away her face.
'Ah,' said Miss Nipper, with great sharpness, 'Oh, them "Blimbers"'
'Don't blame anyone,' said Florence. 'It's a mistake.'
'I say nothing about blame, Miss,' cried Miss Nipper, 'for I know that you object, but I may wish, Miss, that the family was set to work to make new roads, and that Miss Blimber went in front and had the pickaxe.'
After this speech, Miss Nipper, who was perfectly serious, wiped her eyes.
'I think I could perhaps give Paul some help, Susan, if I had these books,' said Florence, 'and make the coming week a little easier to him. At least I want to try. So buy them for me, dear, and I will never forget how kind it was of you to do it!'
It must have been a harder heart than Susan Nipper's that could have rejected the little purse Florence held out with these words, or the gentle look of entreaty with which she seconded her petition. Susan put the purse in her pocket without reply, and trotted out at once upon her errand.
The books were not easy to procure; and the answer at several shops was, either that they were just out of them, or that they never kept them, or that they had had a great many last month, or that they expected a great many next week But Susan was not easily baffled in such an enterprise; and having entrapped a white-haired youth, in a black calico apron, from a library where she was known, to accompany her in her quest, she led him such a life in going up and down, that he exerted himself to the utmost, if it were only to get rid of her; and finally enabled her to return home in triumph.
With these treasures then, after her own daily lessons were over, Florence sat down at night to track Paul's footsteps through the thorny ways of learning; and being possessed of a naturally quick and sound capacity, and taught by that most wonderful of masters, love, it was not long before she gained upon Paul's heels, and caught and passed him.
Not a word of this was breathed to Mrs Pipchin: but many a night when they were all in bed, and when Miss Nipper, with her hair in papers and herself asleep in some uncomfortable attitude, reposed unconscious by her side; and when the chinking ashes in the grate were cold and grey; and when the candles were burnt down and guttering out; - Florence tried so hard to be a substitute for one small Dombey, that her fortitude and perseverance might have almost won her a free right to bear the name herself.
And high was her reward, when one Saturday evening, as little Paul was sitting down as usual to 'resume his studies,' she sat down by his side, and showed him all that was so rough, made smooth, and all that was so dark, made clear and plain, before him. It was nothing but a startled look in Paul's wan face - a flush - a smile - and then a close embrace - but God knows how her heart leapt up at this rich payment for her trouble.
'Oh, Floy!' cried her brother, 'how I love you! How I love you, Floy!'
'And I you, dear!'
'Oh! I am sure of that, Floy.'
He said no more about it, but all that evening sat close by her, very quiet; and in the night he called out from his little room within hers, three or four times, that he loved her.
Regularly, after that, Florence was prepared to sit down with Paul on Saturday night, and patiently assist him through so much as they could anticipate together of his next week's work. The cheering thought that he was labouring on where Florence had just toiled before him, would, of itself, have been a stimulant to Paul in the perpetual resumption of his studies; but coupled with the actual lightening of his load, consequent on this assistance, it saved him, possibly, from sinking underneath the burden which the fair Cornelia Blimber piled upon his back.
It was not that Miss Blimber meant to be too hard upon him, or that Doctor Blimber meant to bear too heavily on the young gentlemen in general. Cornelia merely held the faith in which she had been bred; and the Doctor, in some partial confusion of his ideas, regarded the young gentlemen as if they were all Doctors, and were born grown up. Comforted by the applause of the young gentlemen's nearest relations, and urged on by their blind vanity and ill-considered haste, it would have been strange if Doctor Blimber had discovered his mistake, or trimmed his swelling sails to any other tack.
Thus in the case of Paul. When Doctor Blimber said he made great progress and was naturally clever, Mr Dombey was more bent than ever on his being forced and crammed. In the case of Briggs, when Doctor Blimber reported that he did not make great progress yet, and was not naturally clever, Briggs senior was inexorable in the same purpose. In short, however high and false the temperature at which the Doctor kept his hothouse, the owners of the plants were always ready to lend a helping hand at the bellows, and to stir the fire.
Such spirits as he had in the outset, Paul soon lost of course. But he retained all that was strange, and old, and thoughtful in his character: and under circumstances so favourable to the development of those tendencies, became even more strange, and old, and thoughtful, than before.
The only difference was, that he kept his character to himself. He grew more thoughtful and reserved, every day; and had no such curiosity in any living member of the Doctor's household, as he had had in Mrs Pipchin. He loved to be alone; and in those short intervals when he was not occupied with his books, liked nothing so well as wandering about the house by himself, or sitting on the stairs, listening to the great clock in the hall. He was intimate with all the paperhanging in the house; saw things that no one else saw in the patterns; found out miniature tigers and lions running up the bedroom walls, and squinting faces leering in the squares and diamonds of the floor-cloth.
The solitary child lived on, surrounded by this arabesque work of his musing fancy, and no one understood him. Mrs Blimber thought him 'odd,' and sometimes the servants said among themselves that little Dombey 'moped;' but that was all.
Unless young Toots had some idea on the subject, to the expression of which he was wholly unequal. Ideas, like ghosts (according to the common notion of ghosts), must be spoken to a little before they will explain themselves; and Toots had long left off asking any questions of his own mind. Some mist there may have been, issuing from that leaden casket, his cranium, which, if it could have taken shape and form, would have become a genie; but it could not; and it only so far followed the example of the smoke in the Arabian story, as to roll out in a thick cloud, and there hang and hover. But it left a little figure visible upon a lonely shore, and Toots was always staring at it.
'How are you?' he would say to Paul, fifty times a day. 'Quite well, Sir, thank you,' Paul would answer. 'Shake hands,' would be Toots's next advance.
Which Paul, of course, would immediately do. Mr Toots generally said again, after a long interval of staring and hard breathing, 'How are you?' To which Paul again replied, 'Quite well, Sir, thank you.'
One evening Mr Toots was sitting at his desk, oppressed by correspondence, when a great purpose seemed to flash upon him. He laid down his pen, and went off to seek Paul, whom he found at last, after a long search, looking through the window of his little bedroom.
'I say!' cried Toots, speaking the moment he entered the room, lest he should forget it; 'what do you think about?'
'Oh! I think about a great many things,' replied Paul.
'Do you, though?' said Toots, appearing to consider that fact in itself surprising. 'If you had to die,' said Paul, looking up into his face - Mr Toots started, and seemed much disturbed.
'Don't you think you would rather die on a moonlight night, when the sky was quite clear, and the wind blowing, as it did last night?'
Mr Toots said, looking doubtfully at Paul, and shaking his head, that he didn't know about that.
'Not blowing, at least,' said Paul, 'but sounding in the air like the sea sounds in the shells. It was a beautiful night. When I had listened to the water for a long time, I got up and looked out. There was a boat over there, in the full light of the moon; a boat with a sail.'
The child looked at him so steadfastly, and spoke so earnestly, that Mr Toots, feeling himself called upon to say something about this boat, said, 'Smugglers.' But with an impartial remembrance of there being two sides to every question, he added, 'or Preventive.'
'A boat with a sail,' repeated Paul, 'in the full light of the moon. The sail like an arm, all silver. It went away into the distance, and what do you think it seemed to do as it moved with the waves?'
'Pitch,' said Mr Toots.
'It seemed to beckon,' said the child, 'to beckon me to come! - There she is! There she is!'
Toots was almost beside himself with dismay at this sudden exclamation, after what had gone before, and cried 'Who?'
'My sister Florence!' cried Paul, 'looking up here, and waving her hand. She sees me - she sees me! Good-night, dear, good-night, good-night.'
His quick transition to a state of unbounded pleasure, as he stood at his window, kissing and clapping his hands: and the way in which the light retreated from his features as she passed out of his view, and left a patient melancholy on the little face: were too remarkable wholly to escape even Toots's notice. Their interview being interrupted at this moment by a visit from Mrs Pipchin, who usually brought her black skirts to bear upon Paul just before dusk, once or twice a week, Toots had no opportunity of improving the occasion: but it left so marked an impression on his mind that he twice returned, after having exchanged the usual salutations, to ask Mrs Pipchin how she did. This the irascible old lady conceived to be a deeply devised and long-meditated insult, originating in the diabolical invention of the weak-eyed young man downstairs, against whom she accordingly lodged a formal complaint with Doctor Blimber that very night; who mentioned to the young man that if he ever did it again, he should be obliged to part with him.
The evenings being longer now, Paul stole up to his window every evening to look out for Florence. She always passed and repassed at a certain time, until she saw him; and their mutual recognition was a gleam of sunshine in Paul's daily life. Often after dark, one other figure walked alone before the Doctor's house. He rarely joined them on the Saturdays now. He could not bear it. He would rather come unrecognised, and look up at the windows where his son was qualifying for a man; and wait, and watch, and plan, and hope.
Oh! could he but have seen, or seen as others did, the slight spare boy above, watching the waves and clouds at twilight, with his earnest eyes, and breasting the window of his solitary cage when birds flew by, as if he would have emulated them, and soared away!
 
在几分钟（对坐在桌子上的小保罗•董贝来说，这似乎是一段无穷无尽的时间）之后，布林伯博士回来了。博士的步伐庄严，有意使那颗幼稚的心灵留下严肃的感觉。这类乎一种行军；但是当博士伸出他的右脚的时候，他沉着地围绕着他的脊椎轴心，以半圆形的拐步转向左脚；而当他伸出左脚的时候，他又以同样的姿态转向右脚。因此，他每迈出一步，似乎都要看一下周围，仿佛在说，“有谁肯行个好，向我指出，有哪个学科，在哪个方向，我还没有得到知识的？我想未必有吧。”
布林伯夫人和布林伯小姐跟布林伯博士一道回来。博士把他新来的小学生从桌子上举出以后，把他交给了布林伯小姐。
“科妮莉亚，”博士说道，“董贝首先交给你管。培养他吧，科妮莉亚，培养他吧。”
布林伯小姐从博士的手中接过了她年幼的弟子；保罗觉得那副眼镜正在打量他，就低下了眼睛。
“您几岁了，董贝？”布林伯小姐问道。
“六岁，”保罗回答道。当他偷偷地向这位小姐看一眼的时候，他奇怪，她的头发为什么不像弗洛伦斯的那么长，她又为什么像一个男孩子。
“您对拉丁语语法知道多少，董贝？”布林伯小姐问道。
“一点也不知道，”保罗回答道。他觉得这个回答在布林伯小姐的感觉上引起了震惊，因此就抬起头来望着那些俯视着他的脸孔，说道：
“我的身体不好。我是个虚弱的孩子。我每天跟老格拉布出去的时候，我不能学拉丁语语法。劳驾您告诉老格拉布来看看我。”“多么可怕的粗俗的姓名！”布林伯夫人说道。“一丁点古典的味道也没有！这个妖怪是谁，孩子？”
“什么妖怪？”保罗问道。
“格拉布，”布林伯夫人极为嫌恶地说道。
“他不比您像妖怪，”保罗回答道。
“什么！”博士用可怕的声音喊道。“嘿嘿嘿！哎呀，这是什么话！”
保罗非常惊恐，但他还是替不在场的格拉布辩护，尽管他讲话时全身哆嗦。
“他是一位很好的老人，夫人，”他说道。“他经常来拉我的摇篮车。深深的海，海中的鱼，所有这些他全都知道。他还知道有很大的妖怪前来躺在岩石上晒太阳；当受到惊吓的时候，它们就重新跳入水中，喷着气，溅泼着浪花，所以好几英里以外的地方都能听到它们的声音。还有一种动物，”保罗兴奋地讲着他的故事，“我不知道有几码长，我也忘记它们的名字了，但弗洛伦斯知道；它们假装出痛苦的样子，当一个人出于同情心，走近它们的时候，它们就张开大嘴，对他进行袭击，但是他所必须做的事，”保罗大胆地把这个知识告诉博士本人，继续说道，“就是当他逃跑的时候，他继续不断地转弯；由于这种动物很长，又不能弯曲，所以转弯转得很慢，这样他就一定能够使它们追不上。虽然老格拉布不知道为什么海洋使我想起了我死去的妈妈，也不知道它一直在说着——一直在说着一些什么话，可是他对海洋的事情还是知道得很多。我希望，”孩子结束的时候，脸色突然搭拉下来，失去了原先的生气，像个孤独无助的人那样望着三张陌生的脸，说道，“你们能让老格拉布到这里来看看我，因为我很了解他，他也得了解我。”
“哈！”博士摇摇头，说道，“这不好，但是学习能解决许多问题。”
布林伯夫人似乎感到有些打颤一样地发表意见说，他是个难以理解的孩子，并且几乎就像皮普钦太太过去经常那样地看着他，只是两人的面貌不同罢了。
“领他到屋子里四处转转，科妮莉亚，”博士说道，“让他熟悉熟悉他的新的环境。跟这位小姐走吧，董贝。”
董贝遵从命令，把手伸给了那位莫测高深的科妮莉亚；当他们一起走开的时候，他怀着胆怯的好奇心，斜眼看着她。因为她那副闪烁着亮光的眼镜使她变得那么神秘，他不知道她在看什么地方，而且确实也不很肯定，她在眼镜后面究竟是不是还有眼睛。
科妮莉亚首先把他领往教室；教室座落在前厅的后面，穿过两扇门到达那里，门上钉着桌面呢，这样可以使年轻的先生们的声音减弱、消失。教室里有八位神经衰弱程度不同的年轻的先生们；他们全都很努力地学习着，而且真是十分严肃。图茨是最大的一位，在一个角落里有他自己的一张书桌；在保罗年幼的眼睛中，他是坐在书桌后面的一位年纪很大的庄严的男子。
文学士菲德先生坐在另一张小书桌的后面；他正在教维吉尔的诗，还没有教完，他这个人为的手摇风琴这时正慢条斯理地向四位年轻的先生演奏着那个曲子。在其余四个人当中，有两位痉挛似地紧紧抓着前额，正在解数学题；有一位由于哭得太多，脸孔像个肮脏的窗子一样，正力求在午饭前把那数量多得毫无希望的几行字胡乱地赶完；还有一位像石头一样茫然不动、陷于绝望地坐在那里，看着他的作业——
他吃完早饭以后似乎一直处于这样的状态中。
一位新孩子的出现并没有引起本可以预料会引起的哄动。文学士菲德先生（他习惯于勤刮胡子来使脸面保持凉爽，除了有一点点胡子茬外，脸上刮得干干净净）向他伸出了一只瘦削的手，对他说，他高兴见到他——保罗本想很高兴地对他说，他是否可以怀着最起码的一点诚意来说这句话。然后保罗在科妮莉亚的介绍下，和菲德先生书桌前的几位年轻的先生们握了手；然后和那两位在解题的年轻的先生们握了手，他们十分兴奋；然后和那位抢时间赶作业的年轻的先生握了手，他身上沾了很多墨迹；最后和那位茫然失措的年轻的先生握了手，他没精打采，十分冷淡。
因为保罗先前已被介绍跟图茨认识了，所以那位学生按照他的习惯，只是吃吃地笑着和喘着气，并继续做着他正在做的事情。那不是件困难的事情；因为由于他已经“经受了”那么多的事情（不要只从字面上来理解这一点），也由于正如我们前面已经提到过的，他在他精力最旺盛的时候已经停止催长，所以他现在可以从事他自己的研究课程；这主要是起草声名显赫的人士写给他本人的长信，称呼他为“萨塞克斯，布赖顿，普•图茨先生阁下”，他把这些信件十分仔细地保存在他的书桌中。
通过这些礼节以后，科妮莉亚领着保罗穿过楼梯上到屋顶；这是一段相当缓慢的路程，因为保罗必须把两只脚都跨到每个梯级以后才能攀登另一个梯级。但是他们终于到达了路程的终点。那里，在一个面临波涛汹涌的大海的房间中，科妮莉亚把一张紧挨着窗子、挂着白色帐子的漂亮的小床指点给他看，窗子上的一张纸牌上早已用圆体楷书——下面的笔划很粗，上面的笔划很细——写着“董贝”；在这同一个房间的另外两张小床，通过同样的方式标明它们是属于布里格斯与托泽的。
正当他们重新回到前厅的时候，保罗看到那位曾经冒犯过皮普钦太太、使皮普钦太太和他不共戴天的弱视的年轻人突然拿着一根很大的槌子，向悬挂着的一面锣飞跑过去，仿佛他已发了疯或者想要报仇似的。但是他并没有接到解雇通知，也没有被立即监禁起来；这位年轻人敲出了那可怕的声音之后，没有受到任何指责就离开了。这时科妮莉亚•布林伯对董贝说，午饭将在一刻钟之后准备好，也许他最好到教室里他的“朋友们”当中去待一下。
因此，董贝恭恭敬敬地走过那只大钟（它仍旧跟先前一样急想着知道他好吗），把教室的门稍稍地打开，像一个迷路的孩子一样悄悄溜了进去，然后有些吃力地把门关上。他的朋友们全都分散在房间里闲逛着，只有那位像石头一样的朋友还跟先前一样丝毫不动。菲德先生穿着灰色的长衣在伸懒腰，仿佛他不顾衣服的费用，决心要把袖子撕断似的。
“嗨嗬哼！”菲德先生像一匹拉车的马一样摇动着自己的身体，喊道，“啊，我的天哪，我的天哪！嗳——呀！”
菲德先生的呵欠使保罗感到十分惊恐；因为它使他的手脚伸得那么开，而他又是那么可怕地认真。所有的孩子们（只有图茨一人除外）似乎也都已筋疲力尽，正准备去吃午饭——有些人正重新结那确实是很硬的领饰；另外一些人在一间邻接的外室中洗手或刷头发，仿佛他们认为吃午饭根本不会得到什么乐趣似的。
年轻的图茨事先已经准备好了，这时没有事情可做，因此能腾出时间来招呼保罗；他笨拙而善意地说道：
“请坐，董贝。”
“谢谢您，先生，”保罗说道。
保罗设法攀登到一个很高的靠窗子的座位上，但却又从上面滑了下来；这件事情似乎使图茨的心智开了窍，使他能够发现一件事情。
“您是个很小的家伙，”图茨先生说道。
“是的，先生，我很小，”保罗回答道。“谢谢您，先生。”
因为图茨已把他举到座位上，而且态度很亲切地做了这件事。
“您的衣服是谁做的？”图茨向他看了一会儿之后，问道。
“我的衣服一直是一位女人做的，”保罗说道。“她给我姐姐做衣服。”
“我的衣服是伯吉斯公司做的，”图茨说道。“很时髦。但是很贵。”
保罗聪明地点点头，仿佛想说，•这•点很容易看得出来；他确实也是这样想的。
“您的父亲很有钱，是吗？”图茨先生问道。
“是的，先生，”保罗说道，“他就是——董贝父子公司。”
“董贝什么？”图茨问道。
“父子，先生，”保罗回答道。
图茨先生低声地试了一两次，想把公司的名字记在心头，但不很成功，就说，他想请保罗第二天早上把这名字再说一次，因为这是相当重要的。其实他无非是想立刻起草一封董贝父子公司写给他本人亲启的机密信件罢了。
这时候其他的学生（那位石头般的孩子总是例外）都聚集在一起。他们都彬彬有礼，但脸色苍白，低声说话；他们精神都很抑郁，跟这群人的心绪比起来，比瑟斯通少爷可以称得上是一位真正的米勒①或者是一本《笑话大全》了。然而比瑟斯通少爷也有一种受屈感。
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①指18世纪英国（滑稽）演员乔（约瑟夫）•米勒（Joe（Joseph）DMiller）（公元1684—1738年）；在他死后，由约翰•莫特利（JohnMottley）编了一本《乔•米勒趣话集》（JoeMiller’sJests）出版。
“您跟我在一个房间里睡觉，是不是？”一位神色庄严的年轻的先生问他，那人的衬衫领子一直翻卷到他的耳垂。
“您是布里格斯少爷吗？”保罗问道。
“托泽，”那位年轻的先生说道。
保罗回答说，是的；托泽指着那位石头般的学生说，那才是布里格斯。保罗早就确实感到，那人不是布里格斯就是托泽，虽然他不明白这是什么道理。
“您的体质强壮吗？”托泽问道。
保罗说，他认为他并不强壮。托泽说，他从保罗的外貌来看，也是这样想的，但这很可惜，因为需要有强壮的体质才行。然后他问保罗是不是先跟科妮莉亚学；当保罗回答“是的”的时候，所有的年轻的先生们都轻轻地哼了一声。
这哼声这时被重新狂怒般地响出的当当的锣声淹没了，于是大家向餐厅移动，那石头般的孩子却仍然例外，他仍然待在他原先所在的地方，仍然处在原先的状态中；保罗不久看见，有人给他送去一块面包，它雅致地摆在盘子和餐巾上面，顶上斜放着一把银叉。
布林伯博士已经坐在餐厅中他的座位上；他坐在餐桌的上方，布林伯小姐和布林伯夫人分坐在他的两旁。菲德先生穿着黑色的上衣，坐在桌子的下方。保罗的椅子挨近布林伯小姐；可是当他坐上去以后，大家发现他的眉毛高出桌布不多，于是就从博士的书房中搬进一些书，他就被举到这些书上面；而且从那时起他就老坐在这些书上面，——以后他自己把它们搬进来搬出去，像一只小象搬城楼似的。
博士念完祷告词之后，午饭就开始了。有美味的汤，还有烤的肉、煮的肉、蔬菜、馅饼和乳酪。每一位年轻的先生都有一把很大的银叉和一块餐巾，所有的安排都是庄重、雅致的。特别引人注意的是，一位穿着有亮钮扣的蓝上衣的男管家倒啤酒倒得十分美妙，能使它散发出一股酒的香味。
除了布林伯博士、布林伯夫人和布林伯小姐偶尔交谈几句外，没有一个人说话，除非是别人对着他说话的时候才说话。当每一位年轻的先生没有把注意力真正用在餐刀、叉子或匙子的时候，他的眼睛就受到一种不可抗拒的吸引力，寻找着布林伯博士、布林伯夫人或布林伯小姐的眼睛，然后谦虚地停在那里。图茨看来是唯一的例外。他挨着菲德先生坐着，与保罗是在桌子的同一边；他不时从坐在他们中间的孩子们的身后或身前探望保罗一眼。
只有一次，在吃饭的谈话中间，这些年轻的先生们也参加了进去。那正好是在吃乳酪的时候，博士喝了一杯葡萄酒，清了两三次嗓子以后，说道：
“那些罗马人，菲德先生，——”
当提到这个可怕的民族，他们的死敌的时候，每位年轻的先生都装出深感兴趣的神色，把眼光注视着博士。他们当中的一位正好在喝酒，当他看到博士正从他的玻璃酒杯旁边向他瞪着眼睛时，就急急忙忙地停止，结果痉挛了好几秒钟，并因此把布林伯博士的话头打断了。
“那些罗马人，菲德先生，”博士缓慢地重新开始道，“在皇帝统治的时代，在大办酒宴方面的奢侈挥霍是惊人的（我们在书上读到这种记载），当时奢侈达到空前绝后的顶峰，有好几个省为了提供一个皇家的宴会所需的资金，耗尽了元气——”
那位犯了过错的人一直紧张难受，并徒劳地等待着一个句号，这时猛烈地痉挛起来。
“约翰逊，”菲德先生用低声的责备的口吻说道，“喝点水。”
神色很严峻的博士停了一会儿，直到水取来以后，才继续说道：
“菲德先生——”
可是菲德先生看到约翰逊又要痉挛，他又知道博士在这些年轻的先生面前，在讲完所有他想要讲的话之前是决不会打下一个句号的，所以他不能把眼睛离开约翰逊；这样他就没有看着博士，博士也就因此停了下来。
“请原谅，先生，”菲德先生脸红着说道，“请原谅，布林伯博士。”
“先生，”博士提高声音说道，“我们读到过，而且也没有理由怀疑——虽然对于我们当今的普通老百姓来说，这是难以置信的——，维特利乌斯①的弟弟为他准备了一个筵席，筵席上摆出了两千盘鱼——”
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①维特利乌斯（AulusVitellius，公元15—69年）。公元69年，他被部下拥立为罗马皇帝，但不久即为另一被拥立为皇帝的韦斯巴芗（Vespasian）的军队所杀害。
“喝点水，约翰逊——鱼，先生，”菲德先生说道。
“五千盘各种家禽。”
“或者您试吃一片面包皮，”菲德先生说。
“还有一盘叫做米涅瓦的盾牌，”布林伯博士继续说道，他向桌子各处扫视时，声音提得更高，“这是根据它那巨大的容积来命名的；除了其他贵重的材料外，它的组成部分还有野鸡的脑子——”
“喔唷！喔唷！喔唷！”（这是约翰逊发出的）
“山鹬的脑子——”
“喔唷！喔唷！喔唷！”
“一种鱼的鳔，这种鱼叫鹦嘴——”①
“您头脑里有根什么血管要破裂，”菲德先生说道，“您最好听随它去，别去阻止它。”
“从喀尔巴阡海②中捕到的八月鳗的卵，”博士用他极为严肃的声音继续说道，“当我们谈到这样一些耗费巨大的筵席的情况时，我们不要忘记还有一位提图斯③——”
“如果您中风死了的话，那么您母亲将会是什么样的心情啊！”菲德先生说道。
“一位图密善——”④
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①指鹦嘴鱼（scaridae）：约80种热带珊瑚礁鱼类的总称，其中鹦鹉鱼（ParBrotfish）可食用。
②喀尔巴阡海（CarpathianSea）：欧洲中部喀尔巴阡山脉地区的河流，属黑海水系。
③提图斯（全名为TitusVespasiansAugustus，原名为TitusFlaviusVesBpasians，公元39—81年），罗马皇帝（在位时间为公元79—81年）。
④图密善（全名为CaesarDomitianusAugustus，原名为TitusFlaviusDomi－tianus，公元51—96年）：罗马皇帝（在位时间为公元81—96年）。
“您知道，您的脸色发青了，”菲德先生说道。
“一位尼禄①，一位提比利乌斯②，一位卡里古拉③，一位赫利奥加巴卢斯④以及其他许多人，”博士继续说道，“菲德先生，如果您肯赏光听一听的话，这是惊人的，很惊人的，先生——”
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①尼禄（全名为NiroClaudisCaesarAugustusGermanicus，公元37—68年）：罗马皇帝（在位时间为公元54—68年）。
②提比利乌斯（全名为TiberiusCaesarAugustus或TiberiusJuliusCaesarAu－gustus，原名为TiberiusClaudisNero，公元前42—37年）（亦译提比略）：罗马皇帝（在位时间为公元14—37年）。
③卡利古拉（全名为GaiusCaesarGermanicus，原名为GaiusCaesar，公元12—41年）：罗马皇帝（在位时间为公元37—41年）。卡里古拉（Caligula）是他父亲属下士兵给他取的绰号，意为“小靴子”。
④赫利奥加巴卢斯（Heliogabalus）或称埃拉加巴卢斯（Elagabalus）（全名为Cae－sarMarcusAureliusAntoniusAugustus，原名为VariusAvitusBassianus，上述两个名称是他的别称，公元204—222年）：罗马皇帝（在位时间为公元218—222年）。
但是约翰逊再也克制不住，这时发出了一阵异常猛烈的咳嗽，因此，虽然紧挨着他坐的孩子们咚咚地敲着他的背，菲德先生本人把一杯水端到他的唇边，男管家像一个哨兵一样，扶着他在他自己的椅子和餐具柜之间来来回回地走了好几次，但是整整经过了五分钟，他才多少镇定了下来；在这之后，房间里是一片深沉的寂静。
“先生们，”布林伯博士说道，“请站起来做祷告！科妮莉亚，把董贝抱下去，”——于是桌布上面除了他的头皮之外，就再也看不到他身上的什么东西了。“约翰逊明天吃早饭之前不要带书，向我背诵希腊文的圣约书，从第一章圣保罗使徒书背到以弗所书。菲德先生，我们在半小时后将继续进行学习。”
这些年轻的先生们鞠了躬，退出了房间。菲德先生也一样。在这半小时内，年轻的先生们分成一对对，手挽手地在房屋后面的一小片工地上来来去去地闲逛着，或者设法在布里格斯心中点燃一星生气的火花。至于游戏这种粗俗的事情则根本没有。到了指定的
Chapter 13
Shipping Intelligence and Office Business
Mr Dombey's offices were in a court where there was an old-established stall of choice fruit at the corner: where perambulating merchants, of both sexes, offered for sale at any time between the hours of ten and five, slippers, pocket-books, sponges, dogs' collars, and Windsor soap; and sometimes a pointer or an oil-painting.
The pointer always came that way, with a view to the Stock Exchange, where a sporting taste (originating generally in bets of new hats) is much in vogue. The other commodities were addressed to the general public; but they were never offered by the vendors to Mr Dombey. When he appeared, the dealers in those wares fell off respectfully. The principal slipper and dogs' collar man - who considered himself a public character, and whose portrait was screwed on to an artist's door in Cheapside - threw up his forefinger to the brim of his hat as Mr Dombey went by. The ticket-porter, if he were not absent on a job, always ran officiously before, to open Mr Dombey's office door as wide as possible, and hold it open, with his hat off, while he entered.
The clerks within were not a whit behind-hand in their demonstrations of respect. A solemn hush prevailed, as Mr Dombey passed through the outer office. The wit of the Counting-House became in a moment as mute as the row of leathern fire-buckets hanging up behind him. Such vapid and flat daylight as filtered through the ground-glass windows and skylights, leaving a black sediment upon the panes, showed the books and papers, and the figures bending over them, enveloped in a studious gloom, and as much abstracted in appearance, from the world without, as if they were assembled at the bottom of the sea; while a mouldy little strong room in the obscure perspective, where a shaded lamp was always burning, might have represented the cavern of some ocean monster, looking on with a red eye at these mysteries of the deep.
When Perch the messenger, whose place was on a little bracket, like a timepiece, saw Mr Dombey come in - or rather when he felt that he was coming, for he had usually an instinctive sense of his approach - he hurried into Mr Dombey's room, stirred the fire, carried fresh coals from the bowels of the coal-box, hung the newspaper to air upon the fender, put the chair ready, and the screen in its place, and was round upon his heel on the instant of Mr Dombey's entrance, to take his great-coat and hat, and hang them up. Then Perch took the newspaper, and gave it a turn or two in his hands before the fire, and laid it, deferentially, at Mr Dombey's elbow. And so little objection had Perch to being deferential in the last degree, that if he might have laid himself at Mr Dombey's feet, or might have called him by some such title as used to be bestowed upon the Caliph Haroun Alraschid, he would have been all the better pleased.
As this honour would have been an innovation and an experiment, Perch was fain to content himself by expressing as well as he could, in his manner, You are the light of my Eyes. You are the Breath of my Soul. You are the commander of the Faithful Perch! With this imperfect happiness to cheer him, he would shut the door softly, walk away on tiptoe, and leave his great chief to be stared at, through a dome-shaped window in the leads, by ugly chimney-pots and backs of houses, and especially by the bold window of a hair-cutting saloon on a first floor, where a waxen effigy, bald as a Mussulman in the morning, and covered, after eleven o'clock in the day, with luxuriant hair and whiskers in the latest Christian fashion, showed him the wrong side of its head for ever.
Between Mr Dombey and the common world, as it was accessible through the medium of the outer office - to which Mr Dombey's presence in his own room may be said to have struck like damp, or cold air - there were two degrees of descent. Mr Carker in his own office was the first step; Mr Morfin, in his own office, was the second. Each of these gentlemen occupied a little chamber like a bath-room, opening from the passage outside Mr Dombey's door. Mr Carker, as Grand Vizier, inhabited the room that was nearest to the Sultan. Mr Morfin, as an officer of inferior state, inhabited the room that was nearest to the clerks.
The gentleman last mentioned was a cheerful-looking, hazel-eyed elderly bachelor: gravely attired, as to his upper man, in black; and as to his legs, in pepper-and-salt colour. His dark hair was just touched here and there with specks of gray, as though the tread of Time had splashed it; and his whiskers were already white. He had a mighty respect for Mr Dombey, and rendered him due homage; but as he was of a genial temper himself, and never wholly at his ease in that stately presence, he was disquieted by no jealousy of the many conferences enjoyed by Mr Carker, and felt a secret satisfaction in having duties to discharge, which rarely exposed him to be singled out for such distinction. He was a great musical amateur in his way - after business; and had a paternal affection for his violoncello, which was once in every week transported from Islington, his place of abode, to a certain club-room hard by the Bank, where quartettes of the most tormenting and excruciating nature were executed every Wednesday evening by a private party.
Mr Carker was a gentleman thirty-eight or forty years old, of a florid complexion, and with two unbroken rows of glistening teeth, whose regularity and whiteness were quite distressing. It was impossible to escape the observation of them, for he showed them whenever he spoke; and bore so wide a smile upon his countenance (a smile, however, very rarely, indeed, extending beyond his mouth), that there was something in it like the snarl of a cat. He affected a stiff white cravat, after the example of his principal, and was always closely buttoned up and tightly dressed. His manner towards Mr Dombey was deeply conceived and perfectly expressed. He was familiar with him, in the very extremity of his sense of the distance between them. 'Mr Dombey, to a man in your position from a man in mine, there is no show of subservience compatible with the transaction of business between us, that I should think sufficient. I frankly tell you, Sir, I give it up altogether. I feel that I could not satisfy my own mind; and Heaven knows, Mr Dombey, you can afford to dispense with the endeavour.' If he had carried these words about with him printed on a placard, and had constantly offered it to Mr Dombey's perusal on the breast of his coat, he could not have been more explicit than he was.
This was Carker the Manager. Mr Carker the Junior, Walter's friend, was his brother; two or three years older than he, but widely removed in station. The younger brother's post was on the top of the official ladder; the elder brother's at the bottom. The elder brother never gained a stave, or raised his foot to mount one. Young men passed above his head, and rose and rose; but he was always at the bottom. He was quite resigned to occupy that low condition: never complained of it: and certainly never hoped to escape from it.
'How do you do this morning?' said Mr Carker the Manager, entering Mr Dombey's room soon after his arrival one day: with a bundle of papers in his hand.
'How do you do, Carker?' said Mr Dombey.
'Coolish!' observed Carker, stirring the fire.
'Rather,' said Mr Dombey.
'Any news of the young gentleman who is so important to us all?' asked Carker, with his whole regiment of teeth on parade.
'Yes - not direct news- I hear he's very well,' said Mr Dombey. Who had come from Brighton over-night. But no one knew It.
'Very well, and becoming a great scholar, no doubt?' observed the Manager.
'I hope so,' returned Mr Dombey.
'Egad!' said Mr Carker, shaking his head, 'Time flies!'
'I think so, sometimes,' returned Mr Dombey, glancing at his newspaper.
'Oh! You! You have no reason to think so,' observed Carker. 'One who sits on such an elevation as yours, and can sit there, unmoved, in all seasons - hasn't much reason to know anything about the flight of time. It's men like myself, who are low down and are not superior in circumstances, and who inherit new masters in the course of Time, that have cause to look about us. I shall have a rising sun to worship, soon.'
'Time enough, time enough, Carker!' said Mr Dombey, rising from his chair, and standing with his back to the fire. 'Have you anything there for me?'
'I don't know that I need trouble you,' returned Carker, turning over the papers in his hand. 'You have a committee today at three, you know.'
'And one at three, three-quarters,' added Mr Dombey.
'Catch you forgetting anything!' exclaimed Carker, still turning over his papers. 'If Mr Paul inherits your memory, he'll be a troublesome customer in the House. One of you is enough'
'You have an accurate memory of your own,' said Mr Dombey.
'Oh! I!' returned the manager. 'It's the only capital of a man like me.'
Mr Dombey did not look less pompous or at all displeased, as he stood leaning against the chimney-piece, surveying his (of course unconscious) clerk, from head to foot. The stiffness and nicety of Mr Carker's dress, and a certain arrogance of manner, either natural to him or imitated from a pattern not far off, gave great additional effect to his humility. He seemed a man who would contend against the power that vanquished him, if he could, but who was utterly borne down by the greatness and superiority of Mr Dombey.
'Is Morfin here?' asked Mr Dombey after a short pause, during which Mr Carker had been fluttering his papers, and muttering little abstracts of their contents to himself.
'Morfin's here,' he answered, looking up with his widest and almost sudden smile; 'humming musical recollections - of his last night's quartette party, I suppose - through the walls between us, and driving me half mad. I wish he'd make a bonfire of his violoncello, and burn his music-books in it.'
'You respect nobody, Carker, I think,' said Mr Dombey.
'No?' inquired Carker, with another wide and most feline show of his teeth. 'Well! Not many people, I believe. I wouldn't answer perhaps,' he murmured, as if he were only thinking it, 'for more than one.'
A dangerous quality, if real; and a not less dangerous one, if feigned. But Mr Dombey hardly seemed to think so, as he still stood with his back to the fire, drawn up to his full height, and looking at his head-clerk with a dignified composure, in which there seemed to lurk a stronger latent sense of power than usual.
'Talking of Morfin,' resumed Mr Carker, taking out one paper from the rest, 'he reports a junior dead in the agency at Barbados, and proposes to reserve a passage in the Son and Heir - she'll sail in a month or so - for the successor. You don't care who goes, I suppose? We have nobody of that sort here.'
Mr Dombey shook his head with supreme indifference.
'It's no very precious appointment,' observed Mr Carker, taking up a pen, with which to endorse a memorandum on the back of the paper. 'I hope he may bestow it on some orphan nephew of a musical friend. It may perhaps stop his fiddle-playing, if he has a gift that way. Who's that? Come in!'
'I beg your pardon, Mr Carker. I didn't know you were here, Sir,' answered Walter; appearing with some letters in his hand, unopened, and newly arrived. 'Mr Carker the junior, Sir - '
At the mention of this name, Mr Carker the Manager was or affected to be, touched to the quick with shame and humiliation. He cast his eyes full on Mr Dombey with an altered and apologetic look, abased them on the ground, and remained for a moment without speaking.
'I thought, Sir,' he said suddenly and angrily, turning on Walter, 'that you had been before requested not to drag Mr Carker the Junior into your conversation.'
'I beg your pardon,' returned Walter. 'I was only going to say that Mr Carker the Junior had told me he believed you were gone out, or I should not have knocked at the door when you were engaged with Mr Dombey. These are letters for Mr Dombey, Sir.'
'Very well, Sir,' returned Mr Carker the Manager, plucking them sharply from his hand. 'Go about your business.'
But in taking them with so little ceremony, Mr Carker dropped one on the floor, and did not see what he had done; neither did Mr Dombey observe the letter lying near his feet. Walter hesitated for a moment, thinking that one or other of them would notice it; but finding that neither did, he stopped, came back, picked it up, and laid it himself on Mr Dombey's desk. The letters were post-letters; and it happened that the one in question was Mrs Pipchin's regular report, directed as usual - for Mrs Pipchin was but an indifferent penwoman - by Florence. Mr Dombey, having his attention silently called to this letter by Walter, started, and looked fiercely at him, as if he believed that he had purposely selected it from all the rest.
'You can leave the room, Sir!' said Mr Dombey, haughtily.
He crushed the letter in his hand; and having watched Walter out at the door, put it in his pocket without breaking the seal.
'These continual references to Mr Carker the Junior,' Mr Carker the Manager began, as soon as they were alone, 'are, to a man in my position, uttered before one in yours, so unspeakably distressing - '
'Nonsense, Carker,' Mr Dombey interrupted. 'You are too sensitive.'
'I am sensitive,' he returned. 'If one in your position could by any possibility imagine yourself in my place: which you cannot: you would be so too.'
As Mr Dombey's thoughts were evidently pursuing some other subject, his discreet ally broke off here, and stood with his teeth ready to present to him, when he should look up.
'You want somebody to send to the West Indies, you were saying,' observed Mr Dombey, hurriedly.
'Yes,' replied Carker.
'Send young Gay.'
'Good, very good indeed. Nothing easier,' said Mr Carker, without any show of surprise, and taking up the pen to re-endorse the letter, as coolly as he had done before. '"Send young Gay."'
'Call him back,' said Mr Dombey.
Mr Carker was quick to do so, and Walter was quick to return.
'Gay,' said Mr Dombey, turning a little to look at him over his shoulder. 'Here is a -
'An opening,' said Mr Carker, with his mouth stretched to the utmost.
'In the West Indies. At Barbados. I am going to send you,' said Mr Dombey, scorning to embellish the bare truth, 'to fill a junior situation in the counting-house at Barbados. Let your Uncle know from me, that I have chosen you to go to the West Indies.'
Walter's breath was so completely taken away by his astonishment, that he could hardly find enough for the repetition of the words 'West Indies.'
'Somebody must go,' said Mr Dombey, 'and you are young and healthy, and your Uncle's circumstances are not good. Tell your Uncle that you are appointed. You will not go yet. There will be an interval of a month - or two perhaps.'
'Shall I remain there, Sir?' inquired Walter.
'Will you remain there, Sir!' repeated Mr Dombey, turning a little more round towards him. 'What do you mean? What does he mean, Carker?'
'Live there, Sir,' faltered Walter.
'Certainly,' returned Mr Dombey.
Walter bowed.
'That's all,' said Mr Dombey, resuming his letters. 'You will explain to him in good time about the usual outfit and so forth, Carker, of course. He needn't wait, Carker.'
'You needn't wait, Gay,' observed Mr Carker: bare to the gums.
'Unless,' said Mr Dombey, stopping in his reading without looking off the letter, and seeming to listen. 'Unless he has anything to say.'
'No, Sir,' returned Walter, agitated and confused, and almost stunned, as an infinite variety of pictures presented themselves to his mind; among which Captain Cuttle, in his glazed hat, transfixed with astonishment at Mrs MacStinger's, and his uncle bemoaning his loss in the little back parlour, held prominent places. 'I hardly know - I - I am much obliged, Sir.'
'He needn't wait, Carker,' said Mr Dombey.
And as Mr Carker again echoed the words, and also collected his papers as if he were going away too, Walter felt that his lingering any longer would be an unpardonable intrusion - especially as he had nothing to say - and therefore walked out quite confounded.
Going along the passage, with the mingled consciousness and helplessness of a dream, he heard Mr Dombey's door shut again, as Mr Carker came out: and immediately afterwards that gentleman called to him.
'Bring your friend Mr Carker the Junior to my room, Sir, if you please.'
Walter went to the outer office and apprised Mr Carker the Junior of his errand, who accordingly came out from behind a partition where he sat alone in one corner, and returned with him to the room of Mr Carker the Manager.
That gentleman was standing with his back to the fire, and his hands under his coat-tails, looking over his white cravat, as unpromisingly as Mr Dombey himself could have looked. He received them without any change in his attitude or softening of his harsh and black expression: merely signing to Walter to close the door.
'John Carker,' said the Manager, when this was done, turning suddenly upon his brother, with his two rows of teeth bristling as if he would have bitten him, 'what is the league between you and this young man, in virtue of which I am haunted and hunted by the mention of your name? Is it not enough for you, John Carker, that I am your near relation, and can't detach myself from that - '
'Say disgrace, James,' interposed the other in a low voice, finding that he stammered for a word. 'You mean it, and have reason, say disgrace.'
'From that disgrace,' assented his brother with keen emphasis, 'but is the fact to be blurted out and trumpeted, and proclaimed continually in the presence of the very House! In moments of confidence too? Do you think your name is calculated to harmonise in this place with trust and confidence, John Carker?'
'No,' returned the other. 'No, James. God knows I have no such thought.'
'What is your thought, then?' said his brother, 'and why do you thrust yourself in my way? Haven't you injured me enough already?'
'I have never injured you, James, wilfully.'
'You are my brother,' said the Manager. 'That's injury enough.'
'I wish I could undo it, James.'
'I wish you could and would.'
During this conversation, Walter had looked from one brother to the other, with pain and amazement. He who was the Senior in years, and Junior in the House, stood, with his eyes cast upon the ground, and his head bowed, humbly listening to the reproaches of the other. Though these were rendered very bitter by the tone and look with which they were accompanied, and by the presence of Walter whom they so much surprised and shocked, he entered no other protest against them than by slightly raising his right hand in a deprecatory manner, as if he would have said, 'Spare me!' So, had they been blows, and he a brave man, under strong constraint, and weakened by bodily suffering, he might have stood before the executioner.
Generous and quick in all his emotions, and regarding himself as the innocent occasion of these taunts, Walter now struck in, with all the earnestness he felt.
'Mr Carker,' he said, addressing himself to the Manager. 'Indeed, indeed, this is my fault solely. In a kind of heedlessness, for which I cannot blame myself enough, I have, I have no doubt, mentioned Mr Carker the Junior much oftener than was necessary; and have allowed his name sometimes to slip through my lips, when it was against your expressed wish. But it has been my own mistake, Sir. We have never exchanged one word upon the subject - very few, indeed, on any subject. And it has not been,' added Walter, after a moment's pause, 'all heedlessness on my part, Sir; for I have felt an interest in Mr Carker ever since I have been here, and have hardly been able to help speaking of him sometimes, when I have thought of him so much!'
Walter said this from his soul, and with the very breath of honour. For he looked upon the bowed head, and the downcast eyes, and upraised hand, and thought, 'I have felt it; and why should I not avow it in behalf of this unfriended, broken man!'
Mr Carker the Manager looked at him, as he spoke, and when he had finished speaking, with a smile that seemed to divide his face into two parts.
'You are an excitable youth, Gay,' he said; 'and should endeavour to cool down a little now, for it would be unwise to encourage feverish predispositions. Be as cool as you can, Gay. Be as cool as you can. You might have asked Mr John Carker himself (if you have not done so) whether he claims to be, or is, an object of such strong interest.'
'James, do me justice,' said his brother. 'I have claimed nothing; and I claim nothing. Believe me, on my -
'Honour?' said his brother, with another smile, as he warmed himself before the fire.
'On my Me - on my fallen life!' returned the other, in the same low voice, but with a deeper stress on his words than he had yet seemed capable of giving them. 'Believe me, I have held myself aloof, and kept alone. This has been unsought by me. I have avoided him and everyone.
'Indeed, you have avoided me, Mr Carker,' said Walter, with the tears rising to his eyes; so true was his compassion. 'I know it, to my disappointment and regret. When I first came here, and ever since, I am sure I have tried to be as much your friend, as one of my age could presume to be; but it has been of no use.
'And observe,' said the Manager, taking him up quickly, 'it will be of still less use, Gay, if you persist in forcing Mr John Carker's name on people's attention. That is not the way to befriend Mr John Carker. Ask him if he thinks it is.'
'It is no service to me,' said the brother. 'It only leads to such a conversation as the present, which I need not say I could have well spared. No one can be a better friend to me:' he spoke here very distinctly, as if he would impress it upon Walter: 'than in forgetting me, and leaving me to go my way, unquestioned and unnoticed.'
'Your memory not being retentive, Gay, of what you are told by others,' said Mr Carker the Manager, warming himself with great and increased satisfaction, 'I thought it well that you should be told this from the best authority,' nodding towards his brother. 'You are not likely to forget it now, I hope. That's all, Gay. You can go.
Walter passed out at the door, and was about to close it after him, when, hearing the voices of the brothers again, and also the mention of his own name, he stood irresolutely, with his hand upon the lock, and the door ajar, uncertain whether to return or go away. In this position he could not help overhearing what followed.
'Think of me more leniently, if you can, James,' said John Carker, 'when I tell you I have had - how could I help having, with my history, written here' - striking himself upon the breast - 'my whole heart awakened by my observation of that boy, Walter Gay. I saw in him when he first came here, almost my other self.'
'Your other self!' repeated the Manager, disdainfully.
'Not as I am, but as I was when I first came here too; as sanguine, giddy, youthful, inexperienced; flushed with the same restless and adventurous fancies; and full of the same qualities, fraught with the same capacity of leading on to good or evil.'
'I hope not,' said his brother, with some hidden and sarcastic meaning in his tone.
'You strike me sharply; and your hand is steady, and your thrust is very deep,' returned the other, speaking (or so Walter thought) as if some cruel weapon actually stabbed him as he spoke. 'I imagined all this when he was a boy. I believed it. It was a truth to me. I saw him lightly walking on the edge of an unseen gulf where so many others walk with equal gaiety, and from which
'The old excuse,' interrupted his brother, as he stirred the fire. 'So many. Go on. Say, so many fall.'
'From which ONE traveller fell,' returned the other, 'who set forward, on his way, a boy like him, and missed his footing more and more, and slipped a little and a little lower; and went on stumbling still, until he fell headlong and found himself below a shattered man. Think what I suffered, when I watched that boy.'
'You have only yourself to thank for it,' returned the brother.
'Only myself,' he assented with a sigh. 'I don't seek to divide the blame or shame.'
'You have divided the shame,' James Carker muttered through his teeth. And, through so many and such close teeth, he could mutter well.
'Ah, James,' returned his brother, speaking for the first time in an accent of reproach, and seeming, by the sound of his voice, to have covered his face with his hands, 'I have been, since then, a useful foil to you. You have trodden on me freely in your climbing up. Don't spurn me with your heel!'
A silence ensued. After a time, Mr Carker the Manager was heard rustling among his papers, as if he had resolved to bring the interview to a conclusion. At the same time his brother withdrew nearer to the door.
'That's all,' he said. 'I watched him with such trembling and such fear, as was some little punishment to me, until he passed the place where I first fell; and then, though I had been his father, I believe I never could have thanked God more devoutly. I didn't dare to warn him, and advise him; but if I had seen direct cause, I would have shown him my example. I was afraid to be seen speaking with him, lest it should be thought I did him harm, and tempted him to evil, and corrupted him: or lest I really should. There may be such contagion in me; I don't know. Piece out my history, in connexion with young Walter Gay, and what he has made me feel; and think of me more leniently, James, if you can.
With these words he came out to where Walter was standing. He turned a little paler when he saw him there, and paler yet when Walter caught him by the hand, and said in a whisper:
'Mr Carker, pray let me thank you! Let me say how much I feel for you! How sorry I am, to have been the unhappy cause of all this! How I almost look upon you now as my protector and guardian! How very, very much, I feel obliged to you and pity you!' said Walter, squeezing both his hands, and hardly knowing, in his agitation, what he did or said.
Mr Morfin's room being close at hand and empty, and the door wide open, they moved thither by one accord: the passage being seldom free from someone passing to or fro. When they were there, and Walter saw in Mr Carker's face some traces of the emotion within, he almost felt as if he had never seen the face before; it was so greatly changed.
'Walter,' he said, laying his hand on his shoulder. 'I am far removed from you, and may I ever be. Do you know what I am?'
'What you are!' appeared to hang on Walter's lips, as he regarded him attentively.
'It was begun,' said Carker, 'before my twenty-first birthday - led up to, long before, but not begun till near that time. I had robbed them when I came of age. I robbed them afterwards. Before my twenty-second birthday, it was all found out; and then, Walter, from all men's society, I died.'
Again his last few words hung trembling upon Walter's lips, but he could neither utter them, nor any of his own.
'The House was very good to me. May Heaven reward the old man for his forbearance! This one, too, his son, who was then newly in the Firm, where I had held great trust! I was called into that room which is now his - I have never entered it since - and came out, what you know me. For many years I sat in my present seat, alone as now, but then a known and recognised example to the rest. They were all merciful to me, and I lived. Time has altered that part of my poor expiation; and I think, except the three heads of the House, there is no one here who knows my story rightly. Before the little boy grows up, and has it told to him, my corner may be vacant. I would rather that it might be so! This is the only change to me since that day, when I left all youth, and hope, and good men's company, behind me in that room. God bless you, Walter! Keep you, and all dear to you, in honesty, or strike them dead!'
Some recollection of his trembling from head to foot, as if with excessive cold, and of his bursting into tears, was all that Walter could add to this, when he tried to recall exactly what had passed between them.
When Walter saw him next, he was bending over his desk in his old silent, drooping, humbled way. Then, observing him at his work, and feeling how resolved he evidently was that no further intercourse should arise between them, and thinking again and again on all he had seen and heard that morning in so short a time, in connexion with the history of both the Carkers, Walter could hardly believe that he was under orders for the West Indies, and would soon be lost to Uncle Sol, and Captain Cuttle, and to glimpses few and far between of Florence Dombey - no, he meant Paul - and to all he loved, and liked, and looked for, in his daily life.
But it was true, and the news had already penetrated to the outer office; for while he sat with a heavy heart, pondering on these things, and resting his head upon his arm, Perch the messenger, descending from his mahogany bracket, and jogging his elbow, begged his pardon, but wished to say in his ear, Did he think he could arrange to send home to England a jar of preserved Ginger, cheap, for Mrs Perch's own eating, in the course of her recovery from her next confinement?
 
董贝先生的营业所的办公室是在一个院子里；院子的角落里很久以来就设有一个出卖精选水果的货摊；男女行商在院子里向顾客兜售拖鞋、笔记本、海绵、狗的颈圈、温莎①肥皂；有时还出售一条猎狗（它能用鼻尖指示猎获物所在处）或一幅油画。
指示猎物的猎狗经常在那里出现，是考虑到证券交易所的人们可能对它会有兴趣，因为证券交易所里对运动的爱好很时兴（通常最早是从对新奇事物的打赌开始的）。其他的商品面向一般公众，但商贩们从来没有向董贝先生兜售过它们。当他出现的时候，出售这些货物的商人们都恭恭敬敬地向后退缩。当董贝先生走过的时候，拖鞋与狗的颈圈的主要商人把食指举到帽边行礼（这位商人认为自己是一位公众活动家，他的画像被钉在切普赛德街②）。搬运员如果当时不是因事不在的话，总是殷勤地跑到前面去把董贝先生营业所办公室的门尽量开得大大的；当董贝先生进门的时候，他脱下帽子，把门按住。
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①温莎（Windsor）：英国城市。
②切普赛德街（Cheapside）：伦敦中部东西向的大街，古时为闹市。
办公室里的职员们在显示敬意上丝毫也不逊色。当董贝先生走过最外面的一间办公室时，房间里一片肃静。会计室里那位富有机智、好说俏皮话的人片刻间就像挂在他后面的一排皮制的消防桶一样默不作声。通过毛玻璃窗与天窗渗透进来的日光缺乏生气，暗淡无力，在玻璃上面留下了一个黑色的沉淀物；它照出了帐册、票据以及低头弯腰坐在它们前面的人们的身影，他们被一片勤勉而阴郁的气氛笼罩着，从外表看来，他们与外界完全隔绝，仿佛是聚集在海底似的；幽暗的走廊尽头的一间生了霉的小金库（那里老是点着一盏灯）则可以代表某个海中妖怪的洞穴，那妖怪用一只红眼睛看着海底深处的这些神秘事物。
信差珀奇像时钟一样，在托架上有一个座位①。当他看到董贝先生进来——或者正确地说，当他感觉到他正在进来，因为他通常对他的来到有一种直觉——的时候，他就急忙走进董贝先生的房间，捅一捅火，从煤箱的深处挖出新鲜的煤块，把报纸挂在火炉围栏上烘暖，把椅子摆好，并把围屏移到适当的位置；在董贝先生进来的那一瞬间，他立即转过身去，接下他的厚大衣和帽子，把它们挂好。然后珀奇取下报纸，在炉前把它在手里转上一两转，毕恭毕敬地放在董贝先生的身边。珀奇向董贝先生表示最大程度的敬意，他是丝毫也没有什么不愿意的；如果他可以躺在董贝先生的脚边，或者可以用人们通常对哈里发何鲁纳•拉施德②所使用的那样一些尊称来称呼他的话，那么他就只会感到更加高兴。
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①有一种小钟是摆放在托架上的，称为托架小钟（bracketclock）。
②《天方夜谭》（或译《一千零一夜》）故事中的一位阿拉伯国王。在阿拉伯语中，哈里发是王位继承人的意思，后成为阿拉伯国王的通称。
但由于采用这种致敬的方式将会是一种革新与试验，所以珀奇乐意按照他自己的方式，用他所能表达的话来满足自己的心愿：“您是我眼睛的亮光。您是我心灵的气息。您是忠实的珀奇的司令官！”这样高高兴兴、但意犹未竟地向他表达敬意之后，他就会轻轻地关上门，踮着脚走出去，把他伟大的老板留下，让丑陋的烟囱顶管、房屋的后墙、特别是二层楼理发厅的一扇突出的窗子，通过圆顶形的窗子，凝视着他（那理发厅里有一个蜡象，早上像穆斯林一样，头光秃秃的，十一点钟以后则仿照基督徒最时新的式样，蓄着连鬓胡子，它永远向董贝先生显露出它的后脑壳）。
董贝先生与普通世界之间有两级阶梯（因为要通过外面的办公室才能到达那个世界，而董贝先生在他自己的房间中，对外面的办公室来说可以说是泼上了冷水或者吹去了冷空气一样）。在自己办公室中的卡克先生是第一级阶梯；在自己办公室中的莫芬先生是第二阶梯。这两位先生每人都有一个像浴室般大小的房间，房门通向董贝先生门外的过道。作为内阁总理的卡克先生待在最挨近皇帝的房间里；作为职位略低的官员，莫芬先生待在最挨近职员们的房间里。
最后提到的这位先生是一位神情愉快、眼睛淡褐色、年纪较大的单身汉；他衣着庄重，上半身黑色，腿部是胡椒与盐的颜色。他的黑发中间这里那里夹杂着灰色的斑点。仿佛是时间老人行进时溅泼上的；他的连鬓胡子早已白了。他非常尊敬董贝先生，并向他表示适当的顺从，但由于他是一位性格愉快的人，在那位庄严的人的面前总是感到局促不安，所以他从来没有因为妒嫉卡克先生参加过许多商谈而烦恼；由于他必须履行他的职责，他很少得到那份特殊的光荣，他还为此暗暗感到高兴。他在某种程度上是一位伟大的业余音乐爱好者，对他的大提琴怀着父亲般的感情；他每个星期都要把它从他在伊斯灵顿①寓所搬到银行邻近的某个俱乐部里；有一个私人乐团每星期三晚上都在那里演出最令人伤心断肠的四重奏。
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①伊斯灵顿（Islington）：英格兰大伦敦内一自治市。
卡克先生是一位三十八岁或四十岁的有身份的先生，脸色红润，有两排完整发亮的牙齿，那种整齐和白色使人看了十分难受。要想避开它们是不可能的，因为他一讲话总是露出它们；他微笑的时候嘴巴张得十分宽阔（可是他的微笑很少浮现在嘴巴以外的脸上），因此其中总有某些像猫叫一样的东西。他仿效他的老板，爱系一条硬挺的白领带，衣服穿得紧紧贴贴，总是扣上全部钮扣。他对待董贝先生的态度是经过深思熟虑的，而且出色地表达出来。他跟他无拘无束，但又深知他们之间存在的距离。“董贝先生，根据我们之间的业务关系，一位像我这种地位的人向一位像您这种地位的人不论表示什么样效忠的敬意，我都不认为已经足够了。坦率地对您说，先生，我完全否认这一点。我觉得我做得还不能使我自己称心满意；天知道，董贝先生，如果免除我进行这种努力，那么您怎么还能受得了。”如果他把这些话印在招贴上，放在他外衣的胸前，供董贝先生随时阅读，他也不会比他的行为表露得更为明显的了。
这就是经理卡克。沃尔特的朋友，低级职员卡克先生是他的哥哥，比他大两三岁，但地位比他低一大截。弟弟的位子是在职务阶梯的顶端，哥哥的位子则是在它的最底层。哥哥从来没有上升到上面的一个梯级或者抬起脚来攀登一下。年轻人从他的头顶跨越过去，步步高升，但他总是在最底层。他对占有那个低下的地位完全心安理得，从不抱怨，当然也从来不希望改变它。
“您今天早上好吗？”有一天董贝先生来到之后不久，经理卡克先生手里拿着一卷公文，走进他的房间，问道。
“您好吗，卡克？”董贝先生从椅子上站起来，背对着壁炉，问道，“您有什么事情需要告诉我的？”
“我不知道我是否需要打扰您，”卡克翻着手中的公文，回答道；“您知道，今天三点钟，委员会有一个会议您要参加。”
“还有一个会议是在三点三刻，”董贝先生补充说道。
“您从来不会忘记任何事情！”卡克高声喊道，一边仍在翻着公文。“如果保罗少爷把您的记性继承了下来，那么他将成为使公司不得安宁的人物了。有您一位就已足够了。”
“您自己的记性也很好，”董贝先生说道。
“啊，我吗？”经理回答道。“像我这样的人，这是唯一的资本哪。”
董贝先生背靠着壁炉，站在那里，从头到脚打量着他的下属（当然是无意识的），这时他那高傲自负的神色没有稍减半分，也没有任何不愉快的样子。卡克先生严谨而雅致的衣着和有几分妄自尊大的态度（也许是他生性如此，也许是从离他不远的榜样中模仿到的）给他的谦恭增添了特别的效果。如果他能够的话，他似乎是一位会对征服他的力量进行反抗的人；但是董贝先生的崇高与优越的地位却把他完全压倒了。
“莫芬在这里吗？”董贝先生在短短的沉默之后，问道；卡克先生在那段时间中一直在翻着他的公文，并自言自语地嘀咕几句公文的摘要。
“莫芬在这里，”他抬起眼睛，露出那极为宽阔、极为急速的微笑，回答道：“正通过我们之间的隔墙哼唱着，我想大概是回想他昨天四重奏乐团的音乐吧，它把我弄得都快要疯了。我真希望他把他的大提琴烧了，把他的乐谱也一道扔到火里去。”
“我觉得，您什么人也不尊敬，卡克，”董贝先生说道。
“是吗？”卡克问道，一边又露出了一个宽阔的、极为狡诈的微笑，露出了他的牙齿；“唔！不是对好多人都尊敬，我想。也许是，”他低声嘀咕着，仿佛他只是在想这件事，“我不想对一个以上的人负责。”
如果这是真的话，那么这是危险的品质；如果这是假装的话，那么它也同样危险。可是董贝先生似乎并不这样想；这时他挺直了身子，仍旧背对着壁炉站着，同时威严而镇静地望着他下属中这位第一把手，在神态中似乎对他自己的权力隐藏着比平时更为强烈的潜在的意识。
“说到莫芬。”卡克先生从公文中抽出一页纸来，继续说道，“他报告说，巴巴多斯①代销处的一位低级职员死了，因此建议为接替他的人订购一张船票，乘‘儿子与继承人’这条船去，它大约在一个月左右开航。我想，您认为谁去都一样吧？我们这里没有合适的人。”
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①巴巴多斯（Barbados）：位于西印度群岛最东端，为一珊瑚岛；在狄更斯写作此书时，它是英国的殖民地。
董贝先生非常漠不关心地点点头。
“这不是一项很重要的任命，”卡克先生取出一支笔，在公文背面签署了意见。“我想他可能把这个职位赠送给一位孤儿，他一位音乐朋友的侄子了。它也许会终止他的提琴演奏，如果他有那方面的天赋的话。是谁？进来吧！”
“请原谅，卡克先生。我不知道您在这里，先生，”沃尔特手里拿了几封没有启封的新到的信件，走进来，回答道：
“是低级职员卡克先生，先生——”
经理卡克先生一听到这个名字，立刻被触到了痛处，感到羞耻与屈辱，或者装出这种样子；他换了一副抱歉的神色，低垂着眼睛，注视着董贝先生，片刻间一言不发。
“我想，先生，”他突然怒冲冲地转身对着沃尔特，说道：“我以前曾经请求您在谈话中别把低级职员卡克先生扯进来的。”
“请您原谅，”沃尔特回答道。“我只是想要说，低级职员卡克先生告诉我，他想您出去了；否则，您与董贝先生正有事商谈的时候，我就不会来敲门了。这些是给董贝先生的信，先生。”
“很好，先生，”经理卡克先生把信从他手里猛抢过去，回答道。“回去干您的事情去吧。”
可是卡克先生把信拿到手里那样随便无礼，因此他把一封信掉在地上了，而且他自己还没有注意到这一点。董贝先生也没有留意到掉在他脚边的那封信。沃尔特迟疑了一会儿，心想他们两人当中这一位或那一位会注意到的，但发现他们谁也没有注意到，他就停下脚步，走回来，把它捡起来，亲自搁在董贝先生的办公桌上。这些信都是邮寄来的；我们提到的这封信碰巧是皮普钦太太的定期报告，寄发地址像往常一样，是由弗洛伦斯写的，因为皮普钦太太是一位不擅长写字的女人。当董贝先生的注意力被沃尔特默默地吸引到这封信的时候，他吃了一惊，凶猛地看着他，仿佛他相信他是故意把它从所有信中挑出来似的。
“您可以离开这个房间了，先生，”董贝先生傲慢地说道。
他把信在手里揉成一团，注视着沃尔特走出门外以后，没有启封就把它塞进衣袋。
“您刚才说，您要派一个人到西印度群岛去，”董贝先生急忙说道。
“是的，”卡克回答道。
“派年轻人盖伊去。”
“好，确实很好。没有什么比这更容易的了，”卡克先生说道；他没有露出任何惊奇的表情，而是像先前一样，冷冰冰地在公文背面重新签署了意见。“派年轻人盖伊去。”
“喊他回来，”董贝先生说道。
卡克先生迅速照办；沃尔特也迅速地回来了。
“盖伊，”董贝先生稍稍转过身子，以便回过头来看着他。
“有一个——”
“空缺，”卡克先生嘴巴张得极为宽阔地说道。
“在西印度群岛。在巴巴多斯。我打算派您去，”董贝先生说道；他不屑美化明摆着的事实真相，“去接替巴巴多斯会计室里一个低级的职位。请代我转告您的舅舅，我已选择您到西印度群岛去了。”
沃尔特惊愕得完全停止了呼吸，因此连“西印度群岛”这几个字也不能重复说出来。
“总得派个人去，”董贝先生说道，“您年轻，健康，舅舅的境况又不好。告诉您舅舅，已经指派您了。现在还不走。还有一个月的时间——或者也许是两个月。”
“我将留在那里吗，先生？”沃尔特问道。
“您将留在那里吗，先生！”董贝先生把身子朝他那边稍稍转过来一点，重复地说道。“您的话是什么意思？他的话是什么意思，卡克？”
“住在那里，先生，”沃尔特结结巴巴地说道。
“当然，”董贝先生回答道。
沃尔特鞠了个躬。
“我的话已经说完了，”董贝先生说道，一边重新看他的信。“当然，卡克，您在适当的时候向他交代一下旅行用品等等事情。他不必待在这里了，卡克。”
“您不必待在这里了，盖伊，”卡克先生露出牙床，说道。
“除非，”董贝先生说道，他停止阅读，但眼睛没有离开信件，好像在听话似的。“除非他有什么话要说。”
“没有，先生，”沃尔特回答道；当无数种形形色色的景象涌现到他的心头时，他感到激动和慌乱，几乎昏了过去；在这些景象当中，卡特尔船长戴着上了光的帽子，在麦克斯廷杰太太家里惊愕得目瞪口呆；他的舅舅在小后客厅里悲叹着他的损失，是最为突出的两幅。“我实在不知道——我——我很感谢，先生。”
“他不必待在这里了，卡克，”董贝先生说道。
卡克先生又随声重复了这句话，而且还收拾着他的公文，仿佛他也要走似的，这时候沃尔特觉得他再迟延下去就会是不可原谅的打扰了——特别是他已没有什么话要说的了——，因此就十分狼狈地走出了办公室。
他沿着走廊走过去，像在梦中一样感到既清醒而又束手无策，这时候他听到卡克先生走出来时董贝先生的房门又关上的声音，因为在这之后，这位先生立即喊住了他。
“劳驾您把您的朋友，低级职员卡克先生领到我的房间里来，先生。”
沃尔特走到外面的办公室里，把他的使命告诉了低级职员卡克先生。于是低级职员卡克先生就从一个隔板后面（他单独坐在一个角落里）走出来，沃尔特跟他一起回到经理卡克先生的房间里。
那位先生背对着壁炉站着，手抄在燕尾服里面，从白领带上面看着前面，那种严厉可怕的神色只有董贝先生本人才能有。他接待他们的时候，丝毫没有改变姿势或使他那生硬与阴沉的表情柔和下来，而仅仅向沃尔特示意，要他把门关上。
“约翰•卡克，”门关上以后，经理突然转向他的哥哥，露出两排牙齿，仿佛想要咬他似的。“您跟这位年轻人之间订立了什么同盟，凭着它，把我的名字挂在嘴上，来跟我纠缠不休？约翰•卡克，难道你觉得还不够吗？我是你的近亲，不能摆脱掉那份——”
“说耻辱吧，詹姆斯，”另一位看到他在整个词上结巴住了，就低声插嘴道。“你是想这样说，也有理由这样说的，就说耻辱吧。”
“那份耻辱，”他的弟弟同意，并强烈地加重了语气，“可是难道有必要把这事实在公司的老板面前不断地吆喝、张扬和通告吗？甚至在我受到信任的时候也要这样做吗？你以为提到你的名字跟在这里博得信赖与重用是协调的吗，约翰•卡克？”
“不是，”那一位回答道。“不是，詹姆斯。上帝知道，我没有这样的想法。”
“那么，你的想法是什么呢？”他的弟弟说道，“你又为什么硬要挡住我的道路？难道你还嫌伤害我不够吗？”
“我从来没有故意伤害过你，詹姆斯。”
“你是我的哥哥，”经理说道，“这伤害就足够了。”
“我但愿我能消除这个伤害，詹姆斯。”
“我但愿你能消除它，而且将消除它。”
在这谈话中间，沃尔特怀着痛苦与惊奇的心情，望望这一位，又望望那一位弟兄。那位年龄较大、但在公司里职务很低的人的眼睛向地面低垂着，脑袋搭拉着，站在那里，恭顺地听着另一位的谴责。虽然谴责的语气很尖刻，神色很严厉，而且当着震惊的沃尔特的面，但他却没有表示什么抗议，而只是用哀求的态度，稍稍抬起右手，仿佛想说：“饶恕我吧！”如果这些谴责是打击，而他是一位体力衰弱的勇士，那么他也会在刽子手面前站着。
沃尔特在感情上是一位宽厚与急躁的人，他认为他本人是无意间引起这些辱骂的原因，所以这时怀着诚挚的心情插进来说话。
“卡克先生，”他对经理说道，“这完全是我一个人的过错，这一点是千真万确的。由于我粗心大意，这一点我怎么责怪自己也不会过分，因此我，我，毫无疑问，我经常提到职务较低的卡克先生，提到的次数大大地超过了必要，有时我也允许让他的名字脱口而出地说了出来，而这是违背您的明确的意愿的。但这都是我本人的错误，先生。我们从没有在这个问题上交谈过一句话——说实在的，我们在任何问题上都很少交谈。就我这方面来说，先生，”沃尔特停了片刻之后，接着说道，“也并不是完全由于粗心大意。自从我到这里来以后，我对卡克先生一直很感兴趣，当我多么想念他的时候，有时就情不自禁地提到了他。”
沃尔特是真心诚意，并怀着高尚的心情讲这些话的。因为他看到那搭拉的脑袋、低垂的眼睛和抬起的手，心中想道，“我感觉到这点；我为什么不为这位孤立无援、伤心失望的人认错呢？”
“事实上，您一直在避开我，卡克先生，”沃尔特说道；他对他真正感到怜悯，因此泪水都涌到眼睛里了。“我知道这一点，它使我感到失望和惋惜。当我初到这里来的时候，而且从那时候起，我确实很想成为您的好朋友，像我这样年龄的人所指望的那样，可是一切都是白费心思。”
“请注意，盖伊，”经理迅速接过他的话头，说下去，“如果您还像过去那么硬要人们注意约翰•卡克的名字的话，那么您还会更加白费心思。那不是以朋友态度对待约翰•卡克先生的方式。问问他，他是不是这样认为的？”
“那对我不是帮助，”哥哥说道。“它只会引起像现在这样的一场谈话；我不用说，我本来很可以避免参加的。谁要想成为我更好的朋友，”这时他说得很清楚，仿佛想要引起沃尔特的格外注意似的，“那就是忘掉我，让我没人理睬、默默无闻地过我自己的日子。”
“别人对您说的话您是记不住的，盖伊，”经理卡克先生感到极为满意，心情兴奋起来，“所以我想应当让最有权威的人来对您说这一点，”这时他向他的哥哥点了点头，“我希望现在您不至于再把这忘掉了吧。这就是我要说的一切。盖伊。
您可以走了。”
沃尔特走到门口，正想把门在身后关上，这时他又听到了兄弟两人的声音，而且还提到了他自己的名字，于是犹豫不决地站住，手还握着门的拉手，门还半开着，他不知道究竟是回去还是走开。在这种情况下，他不是有意地听到了随后发生的谈话。
“如果你能够的话，詹姆斯，请想到我的时候宽厚一些吧，”约翰•卡克说道，“当我告诉你，我对那孩子，沃尔特•盖伊的观察，已把我整个心灵都唤醒了；——我怎么能不这样呢。我的历史写在这里，”——这时他敲打着自己的胸膛——“当他初到这里来的时候，我在他身上看到了几乎是另一个我。”
“另一个你！”经理轻蔑地重复着。
“并不是现在的我，而是也是初到这里时的我，那时候我跟他一样乐观、轻率、年轻、没有经验，跟他一样扬扬得意地充满了永不平静、爱好冒险的幻想，跟他一样赋有能通向善良或通向邪恶的品质。”
“我希望不是，”他的弟弟说道，语气中有着某种隐藏的与讽刺的意义。
“你把我刺得很痛；你的手没有颤抖，你戳进得很深，”另一位回答道，仿佛在他说话的时候，什么残酷的武器真正捅了他似的（或者沃尔特觉得是这样）。“当他初到这里来的时候，我想像着这一切。我相信它。对我来说，这是真实的。我看到他在一个看不到的深渊的边缘轻快地走着，那么多其他的人们都以同样愉快的神情在那里走着，并且从那里——”
“老借口，”弟弟捅捅炉火，插嘴道，“那么多的人们。说下去吧。说，那么多的人们掉下去了。”
“一位走着的人从那里掉下去了；”另一位回答道，“一位像他那样的孩子开始走上路途，一次又一次地失足，一点一点地往下滑，继续摔倒，直到后来，他倒栽葱地掉下去，并在底层发现他自己成了一个体无完肤的人。请想一想当我注意观察那个孩子的时候，我心里是多么痛苦呵。”
“那只能怪你自己，”弟弟回答道。
“只怪我自己，”他叹了一口气，表示同意。“•我不想寻找别人来分担我的罪过或耻辱。”
“你•已•经让别人来分担你的耻辱了，”詹姆斯•卡克通过他的牙齿咕哝着。虽然他的牙齿那么多那么密，但是他却能咕哝得清清楚楚。
“啊，詹姆斯，”他的哥哥回答道；他第一次用责备的声调说话，而且从他说话的声音听起来，他似乎用手捂着脸，“从那时起，我就成了你的一个有用的衬托物。在你向上爬的时候，你任意地践踏我。请别用你的脚后跟踢我吧！”
接着是静默无声。过了一些时候，只听到经理卡克沙沙地翻阅公文的声音，仿佛他已决定结束这次会晤了。在这同时，他的哥哥退到门口。
“这就是一切，”他说道。“我是那么担心、那么害怕地注意观察着他，就像这是对我的一种小小的惩罚一样，直到他走过了我第一次失足掉下的地方，那时候我相信，即使我是他的父亲，我也不会比那更为虔诚地感谢上帝的了。我不敢预先警戒他，向他提出忠告；但是如果我看到了直接的原因的话，那么我就会向他显示我本人经历过的先例。我怕被别人看到我跟他讲话，唯恐人们会认为我加害于他，引诱他走向邪恶，使他堕落，或者唯恐我真正这样做。也许在我身上有这种传染性的病毒；有谁知道呢？请把我的历史跟沃尔特•盖伊联系起来想一下，也请把它跟他使我产生的感觉联系起来想一下，詹姆斯，如果你能够的话，那么请想到我的时候更宽厚一些吧！”
他说完这些话之后，走出到沃尔特站着的地方。当他看到他在那里的时候，他的脸色稍稍比先前苍白了一些；当沃尔特抓住他的手，低声说了下面一些话的时候，他的脸色就白得更厉害了。
“卡克先生，请允许我谢谢您！请允许我说，我对您是多么同情！我成了这一切的根由，我是多么遗憾！我现在几乎把您看成是我的保卫者与庇护人了！我是多么多么感谢您和可怜您啊！”沃尔特紧紧地握着他的双手，说道；他在激动中几乎不知道他做了什么事情或说了什么话。
莫芬先生的房间就在近旁，里面没有人，门敞开着；他们就不约而同地向里面走去，因为走廊里是难得让人自由来回经过的。当他们到了里面的时候，沃尔特在卡克先生的脸上看到心慌意乱的迹象，这时他几乎感到他以前从来没有见过他的脸孔似的；它变化得多么大啊。
“沃尔特，”他把手搁在他的肩膀上，说道。“我跟您之间隔着一段很远的距离，让我们永远这样吧。您知道我是什么人吗？”
“您是什么人！”当沃尔特目不转睛地注视着他的时候，这句话好像已经到了他的嘴边了。
“那是在我二十一周岁之前开始的，”卡克说道，“——很久以前早就有了这样的趋向，但一直到大概那个时候才开始。当我开始成年的时候。我盗窃了他们的钱财。后来我又盗窃了他们的钱财。在我二十二周岁之前，全都被发觉了；从那之后，沃尔特，对于整个人类社会来说，我已经死了。”
他最后的那几个字又颤抖着到了沃尔特的嘴边，但是他说不出来，也说不出他自己想要说的任何一句话。
“公司对我很好。那位老人宽大为怀，愿上天为此好好报答他吧！这一位，他的儿子，也一样；那时他刚刚到公司里来，而我在公司里是曾经得到很大信任的！我被召唤到现在属于他的房间里——从那时以后，我再也没有进去过——，出来以后就成了一位您所知道的人。我在我现在的位子上坐了许多年，像现在一样孤独，但那时候对其余的人来说，我成了一个有名的、公认的榜样。他们对我都很仁慈，我也活下来了。随着时间的推移，我在痛苦赎罪的这一方面已经有了改变；我想，现在除了公司的三位头头以外，这里没有一个人真正了解我的历史。在那个小孩子长大，并把这件事告诉他之前，我的那个角落可能是个空缺。我希望就这样！从那天起，对我来说，这是唯一的变化；那天我们青春、希望和与善良人们的交往都留在我身后的那间房间里了。上帝保佑您！沃尔特！让您自己和所有对您亲爱的人们都保持着诚实的品质吧，否则就让他们不得好死！”
当沃尔特试图准确地回忆他们之间所发生的一切经过的时候，除了上面的情况外，他所能记起的就是他仿佛感到过度寒冷似的，从头到脚，全身颤抖着，而且痛哭流涕。
当沃尔特再次看到他的时候，他又以过去那种不声不响、意气消沉、卑躬屈节的态度伏在他的办公桌前。那时他看到他正在工作，并觉得他显然已坚决不再跟他来往，而且一再想到那天上午在短短的时间中所看到的和所听到的与两位卡克历史有关的所有事情，沃尔特几乎不相信：他已接到前往西印度群岛的命令；所尔舅舅和卡特尔船长不久就将失去他；弗洛伦斯•董贝——不，他是说保罗——不久将不再跟他次数很少、而且远远地相互看上几眼了；他日常生活中所热爱、喜欢与依恋的一切不久就将跟他告别了。
可是这是真实的，消息已流传到外面的办公室中，因为当他一只手支托着头，并怀着沉重的心情坐在那里沉思着这些事情的时候，信差珀奇从他的红木托架上下来，轻轻地推推他的胳膊肘，请他原谅，但又凑着他的耳朵，向他请求说，他想他能不能设法送回一罐价格便宜的腌制的生姜到英国来，好让珀奇太太在下次分娩后康复的过程中滋补滋补身体？
Chapter 14
Paul grows more and more Old-fashioned, and goes Home for the Holidays
When the Midsummer vacation approached, no indecent manifestations of joy were exhibited by the leaden-eyed young gentlemen assembled at Doctor Blimber's. Any such violent expression as 'breaking up,' would have been quite inapplicable to that polite establishment. The young gentlemen oozed away, semi-annually, to their own homes; but they never broke up. They would have scorned the action.
Tozer, who was constantly galled and tormented by a starched white cambric neckerchief, which he wore at the express desire of Mrs Tozer, his parent, who, designing him for the Church, was of opinion that he couldn't be in that forward state of preparation too soon - Tozer said, indeed, that choosing between two evils, he thought he would rather stay where he was, than go home. However inconsistent this declaration might appear with that passage in Tozer's Essay on the subject, wherein he had observed 'that the thoughts of home and all its recollections, awakened in his mind the most pleasing emotions of anticipation and delight,' and had also likened himself to a Roman General, flushed with a recent victory over the Iceni, or laden with Carthaginian spoil, advancing within a few hours' march of the Capitol, presupposed, for the purposes of the simile, to be the dwelling-place of Mrs Tozer, still it was very sincerely made. For it seemed that Tozer had a dreadful Uncle, who not only volunteered examinations of him, in the holidays, on abstruse points, but twisted innocent events and things, and wrenched them to the same fell purpose. So that if this Uncle took him to the Play, or, on a similar pretence of kindness, carried him to see a Giant, or a Dwarf, or a Conjuror, or anything, Tozer knew he had read up some classical allusion to the subject beforehand, and was thrown into a state of mortal apprehension: not foreseeing where he might break out, or what authority he might not quote against him.
As to Briggs, his father made no show of artifice about it. He never would leave him alone. So numerous and severe were the mental trials of that unfortunate youth in vacation time, that the friends of the family (then resident near Bayswater, London) seldom approached the ornamental piece of water in Kensington Gardens,' without a vague expectation of seeing Master Briggs's hat floating on the surface, and an unfinished exercise lying on the bank. Briggs, therefore, was not at all sanguine on the subject of holidays; and these two sharers of little Paul's bedroom were so fair a sample of the young gentlemen in general, that the most elastic among them contemplated the arrival of those festive periods with genteel resignation.
It was far otherwise with little Paul. The end of these first holidays was to witness his separation from Florence, but who ever looked forward to the end of holidays whose beginning was not yet come! Not Paul, assuredly. As the happy time drew near, the lions and tigers climbing up the bedroom walls became quite tame and frolicsome. The grim sly faces in the squares and diamonds of the floor-cloth, relaxed and peeped out at him with less wicked eyes. The grave old clock had more of personal interest in the tone of its formal inquiry; and the restless sea went rolling on all night, to the sounding of a melancholy strain - yet it was pleasant too - that rose and fell with the waves, and rocked him, as it were, to sleep.
Mr Feeder, B.A., seemed to think that he, too, would enjoy the holidays very much. Mr Toots projected a life of holidays from that time forth; for, as he regularly informed Paul every day, it was his 'last half' at Doctor Blimber's, and he was going to begin to come into his property directly.
It was perfectly understood between Paul and Mr Toots, that they were intimate friends, notwithstanding their distance in point of years and station. As the vacation approached, and Mr Toots breathed harder and stared oftener in Paul's society, than he had done before, Paul knew that he meant he was sorry they were going to lose sight of each other, and felt very much obliged to him for his patronage and good opinion.
It was even understood by Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber, as well as by the young gentlemen in general, that Toots had somehow constituted himself protector and guardian of Dombey, and the circumstance became so notorious, even to Mrs Pipchin, that the good old creature cherished feelings of bitterness and jealousy against Toots; and, in the sanctuary of her own home, repeatedly denounced him as a 'chuckle-headed noodle.' Whereas the innocent Toots had no more idea of awakening Mrs Pipchin's wrath, than he had of any other definite possibility or proposition. On the contrary, he was disposed to consider her rather a remarkable character, with many points of interest about her. For this reason he smiled on her with so much urbanity, and asked her how she did, so often, in the course of her visits to little Paul, that at last she one night told him plainly, she wasn't used to it, whatever he might think; and she could not, and she would not bear it, either from himself or any other puppy then existing: at which unexpected acknowledgment of his civilities, Mr Toots was so alarmed that he secreted himself in a retired spot until she had gone. Nor did he ever again face the doughty Mrs Pipchin, under Doctor Blimber's roof.
They were within two or three weeks of the holidays, when, one day, Cornelia Blimber called Paul into her room, and said, 'Dombey, I am going to send home your analysis.'
'Thank you, Ma'am,' returned Paul.
'You know what I mean, do you, Dombey?' inquired Miss Blimber, looking hard at him, through the spectacles.
'No, Ma'am,' said Paul.
'Dombey, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, 'I begin to be afraid you are a sad boy. When you don't know the meaning of an expression, why don't you seek for information?'
'Mrs Pipchin told me I wasn't to ask questions,' returned Paul.
'I must beg you not to mention Mrs Pipchin to me, on any account, Dombey,' returned Miss Blimber. 'I couldn't think of allowing it. The course of study here, is very far removed from anything of that sort. A repetition of such allusions would make it necessary for me to request to hear, without a mistake, before breakfast-time to-morrow morning, from Verbum personale down to simillimia cygno.'
'I didn't mean, Ma'am - ' began little Paul.
'I must trouble you not to tell me that you didn't mean, if you please, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, who preserved an awful politeness in her admonitions. 'That is a line of argument I couldn't dream of permitting.'
Paul felt it safest to say nothing at all, so he only looked at Miss Blimber's spectacles. Miss Blimber having shaken her head at him gravely, referred to a paper lying before her.
'"Analysis of the character of P. Dombey." If my recollection serves me,' said Miss Blimber breaking off, 'the word analysis as opposed to synthesis, is thus defined by Walker. "The resolution of an object, whether of the senses or of the intellect, into its first elements." As opposed to synthesis, you observe. Now you know what analysis is, Dombey.'
Dombey didn't seem to be absolutely blinded by the light let in upon his intellect, but he made Miss Blimber a little bow.
'"Analysis,"' resumed Miss Blimber, casting her eye over the paper, '"of the character of P. Dombey." I find that the natural capacity of Dombey is extremely good; and that his general disposition to study may be stated in an equal ratio. Thus, taking eight as our standard and highest number, I find these qualities in Dombey stated each at six three-fourths!'
Miss Blimber paused to see how Paul received this news. Being undecided whether six three-fourths meant six pounds fifteen, or sixpence three farthings, or six foot three, or three quarters past six, or six somethings that he hadn't learnt yet, with three unknown something elses over, Paul rubbed his hands and looked straight at Miss Blimber. It happened to answer as well as anything else he could have done; and Cornelia proceeded.
'"Violence two. Selfishness two. Inclination to low company, as evinced in the case of a person named Glubb, originally seven, but since reduced. Gentlemanly demeanour four, and improving with advancing years." Now what I particularly wish to call your attention to, Dombey, is the general observation at the close of this analysis.'
Paul set himself to follow it with great care.
'"It may be generally observed of Dombey,"' said Miss Blimber, reading in a loud voice, and at every second word directing her spectacles towards the little figure before her: '"that his abilities and inclinations are good, and that he has made as much progress as under the circumstances could have been expected. But it is to be lamented of this young gentleman that he is singular (what is usually termed old-fashioned) in his character and conduct, and that, without presenting anything in either which distinctly calls for reprobation, he is often very unlike other young gentlemen of his age and social position." Now, Dombey,' said Miss Blimber, laying down the paper, 'do you understand that?'
'I think I do, Ma'am,' said Paul.
'This analysis, you see, Dombey,' Miss Blimber continued, 'is going to be sent home to your respected parent. It will naturally be very painful to him to find that you are singular in your character and conduct. It is naturally painful to us; for we can't like you, you know, Dombey, as well as we could wish.'
She touched the child upon a tender point. He had secretly become more and more solicitous from day to day, as the time of his departure drew more near, that all the house should like him. From some hidden reason, very imperfectly understood by himself - if understood at all - he felt a gradually increasing impulse of affection, towards almost everything and everybody in the place. He could not bear to think that they would be quite indifferent to him when he was gone. He wanted them to remember him kindly; and he had made it his business even to conciliate a great hoarse shaggy dog, chained up at the back of the house, who had previously been the terror of his life: that even he might miss him when he was no longer there.
Little thinking that in this, he only showed again the difference between himself and his compeers, poor tiny Paul set it forth to Miss Blimber as well as he could, and begged her, in despite of the official analysis, to have the goodness to try and like him. To Mrs Blimber, who had joined them, he preferred the same petition: and when that lady could not forbear, even in his presence, from giving utterance to her often-repeated opinion, that he was an odd child, Paul told her that he was sure she was quite right; that he thought it must be his bones, but he didn't know; and that he hoped she would overlook it, for he was fond of them all.
'Not so fond,' said Paul, with a mixture of timidity and perfect frankness, which was one of the most peculiar and most engaging qualities of the child, 'not so fond as I am of Florence, of course; that could never be. You couldn't expect that, could you, Ma'am?'
'Oh! the old-fashioned little soul!' cried Mrs Blimber, in a whisper.
'But I like everybody here very much,' pursued Paul, 'and I should grieve to go away, and think that anyone was glad that I was gone, or didn't care.'
Mrs Blimber was now quite sure that Paul was the oddest child in the world; and when she told the Doctor what had passed, the Doctor did not controvert his wife's opinion. But he said, as he had said before, when Paul first came, that study would do much; and he also said, as he had said on that occasion, 'Bring him on, Cornelia! Bring him on!'
Cornelia had always brought him on as vigorously as she could; and Paul had had a hard life of it. But over and above the getting through his tasks, he had long had another purpose always present to him, and to which he still held fast. It was, to be a gentle, useful, quiet little fellow, always striving to secure the love and attachment of the rest; and though he was yet often to be seen at his old post on the stairs, or watching the waves and clouds from his solitary window, he was oftener found, too, among the other boys, modestly rendering them some little voluntary service. Thus it came to pass, that even among those rigid and absorbed young anchorites, who mortified themselves beneath the roof of Doctor Blimber, Paul was an object of general interest; a fragile little plaything that they all liked, and that no one would have thought of treating roughly. But he could not change his nature, or rewrite the analysis; and so they all agreed that Dombey was old-fashioned.
There were some immunities, however, attaching to the character enjoyed by no one else. They could have better spared a newer-fashioned child, and that alone was much. When the others only bowed to Doctor Blimber and family on retiring for the night, Paul would stretch out his morsel of a hand, and boldly shake the Doctor's; also Mrs Blimber's; also Cornelia's. If anybody was to be begged off from impending punishment, Paul was always the delegate. The weak-eyed young man himself had once consulted him, in reference to a little breakage of glass and china. And it was darKly rumoured that the butler, regarding him with favour such as that stern man had never shown before to mortal boy, had sometimes mingled porter with his table-beer to make him strong.
Over and above these extensive privileges, Paul had free right of entry to Mr Feeder's room, from which apartment he had twice led Mr Toots into the open air in a state of faintness, consequent on an unsuccessful attempt to smoke a very blunt cigar: one of a bundle which that young gentleman had covertly purchased on the shingle from a most desperate smuggler, who had acknowledged, in confidence, that two hundred pounds was the price set upon his head, dead or alive, by the Custom House. It was a snug room, Mr Feeder's, with his bed in another little room inside of it; and a flute, which Mr Feeder couldn't play yet, but was going to make a point of learning, he said, hanging up over the fireplace. There were some books in it, too, and a fishing-rod; for Mr Feeder said he should certainly make a point of learning to fish, when he could find time. Mr Feeder had amassed, with similar intentions, a beautiful little curly secondhand key-bugle, a chess-board and men, a Spanish Grammar, a set of sketching materials, and a pair of boxing-gloves. The art of self-defence Mr Feeder said he should undoubtedly make a point of learning, as he considered it the duty of every man to do; for it might lead to the protection of a female in distress. But Mr Feeder's great possession was a large green jar of snuff, which Mr Toots had brought down as a present, at the close of the last vacation; and for which he had paid a high price, having been the genuine property of the Prince Regent. Neither Mr Toots nor Mr Feeder could partake of this or any other snuff, even in the most stinted and moderate degree, without being seized with convulsions of sneezing. Nevertheless it was their great delight to moisten a box-full with cold tea, stir it up on a piece of parchment with a paper-knife, and devote themselves to its consumption then and there. In the course of which cramming of their noses, they endured surprising torments with the constancy of martyrs: and, drinking table-beer at intervals, felt all the glories of dissipation.
To little Paul sitting silent in their company, and by the side of his chief patron, Mr Toots, there was a dread charm in these reckless occasions: and when Mr Feeder spoke of the dark mysteries of London, and told Mr Toots that he was going to observe it himself closely in all its ramifications in the approaching holidays, and for that purpose had made arrangements to board with two old maiden ladies at Peckham, Paul regarded him as if he were the hero of some book of travels or wild adventure, and was almost afraid of such a slashing person.
Going into this room one evening, when the holidays were very near, Paul found Mr Feeder filling up the blanks in some printed letters, while some others, already filled up and strewn before him, were being folded and sealed by Mr Toots. Mr Feeder said, 'Aha, Dombey, there you are, are you?' - for they were always kind to him, and glad to see him - and then said, tossing one of the letters towards him, 'And there you are, too, Dombey. That's yours.'
'Mine, Sir?' said Paul.
'Your invitation,' returned Mr Feeder.
Paul, looking at it, found, in copper-plate print, with the exception of his own name and the date, which were in Mr Feeder's penmanship, that Doctor and Mrs Blimber requested the pleasure of Mr P. Dombey's company at an early party on Wednesday Evening the Seventeenth Instant; and that the hour was half-past seven o'clock; and that the object was Quadrilles. Mr Toots also showed him, by holding up a companion sheet of paper, that Doctor and Mrs Blimber requested the pleasure of Mr Toots's company at an early party on Wednesday Evening the Seventeenth Instant, when the hour was half-past seven o'clock, and when the object was Quadrilles. He also found, on glancing at the table where Mr Feeder sat, that the pleasure of Mr Briggs's company, and of Mr Tozer's company, and of every young gentleman's company, was requested by Doctor and Mrs Blimber on the same genteel Occasion.
Mr Feeder then told him, to his great joy, that his sister was invited, and that it was a half-yearly event, and that, as the holidays began that day, he could go away with his sister after the party, if he liked, which Paul interrupted him to say he would like, very much. Mr Feeder then gave him to understand that he would be expected to inform Doctor and Mrs Blimber, in superfine small-hand, that Mr P. Dombey would be happy to have the honour of waiting on them, in accordance with their polite invitation. Lastly, Mr Feeder said, he had better not refer to the festive occasion, in the hearing of Doctor and Mrs Blimber; as these preliminaries, and the whole of the arrangements, were conducted on principles of classicality and high breeding; and that Doctor and Mrs Blimber on the one hand, and the young gentlemen on the other, were supposed, in their scholastic capacities, not to have the least idea of what was in the wind.
Paul thanked Mr Feeder for these hints, and pocketing his invitation, sat down on a stool by the side of Mr Toots, as usual. But Paul's head, which had long been ailing more or less, and was sometimes very heavy and painful, felt so uneasy that night, that he was obliged to support it on his hand. And yet it dropped so, that by little and little it sunk on Mr Toots's knee, and rested there, as if it had no care to be ever lifted up again.
That was no reason why he should be deaf; but he must have been, he thought, for, by and by, he heard Mr Feeder calling in his ear, and gently shaking him to rouse his attention. And when he raised his head, quite scared, and looked about him, he found that Doctor Blimber had come into the room; and that the window was open, and that his forehead was wet with sprinkled water; though how all this had been done without his knowledge, was very curious indeed.
'Ah! Come, come! That's well! How is my little friend now?' said Doctor Blimber, encouragingly.
'Oh, quite well, thank you, Sir,' said Paul.
But there seemed to be something the matter with the floor, for he couldn't stand upon it steadily; and with the walls too, for they were inclined to turn round and round, and could only be stopped by being looked at very hard indeed. Mr Toots's head had the appearance of being at once bigger and farther off than was quite natural; and when he took Paul in his arms, to carry him upstairs, Paul observed with astonishment that the door was in quite a different place from that in which he had expected to find it, and almost thought, at first, that Mr Toots was going to walk straight up the chimney.
It was very kind of Mr Toots to carry him to the top of the house so tenderly; and Paul told him that it was. But Mr Toots said he would do a great deal more than that, if he could; and indeed he did more as it was: for he helped Paul to undress, and helped him to bed, in the kindest manner possible, and then sat down by the bedside and chuckled very much; while Mr Feeder, B.A., leaning over the bottom of the bedstead, set all the little bristles on his head bolt upright with his bony hands, and then made believe to spar at Paul with great science, on account of his being all right again, which was so uncommonly facetious, and kind too in Mr Feeder, that Paul, not being able to make up his mind whether it was best to laugh or cry at him, did both at once.
How Mr Toots melted away, and Mr Feeder changed into Mrs Pipchin, Paul never thought of asking; neither was he at all curious to know; but when he saw Mrs Pipchin standing at the bottom of the bed, instead of Mr Feeder, he cried out, 'Mrs Pipchin, don't tell Florence!'
'Don't tell Florence what, my little Paul?' said Mrs Pipchin, coming round to the bedside, and sitting down in the chair.
'About me,' said Paul.
'No, no,' said Mrs Pipchin.
'What do you think I mean to do when I grow up, Mrs Pipchin?' inquired Paul, turning his face towards her on his pillow, and resting his chin wistfully on his folded hands.
Mrs Pipchin couldn't guess.
'I mean,' said Paul, 'to put my money all together in one Bank, never try to get any more, go away into the country with my darling Florence, have a beautiful garden, fields, and woods, and live there with her all my life!'
'Indeed!' cried Mrs Pipchin.
'Yes,' said Paul. 'That's what I mean to do, when I - ' He stopped, and pondered for a moment.
Mrs Pipchin's grey eye scanned his thoughtful face.
'If I grow up,' said Paul. Then he went on immediately to tell Mrs Pipchin all about the party, about Florence's invitation, about the pride he would have in the admiration that would be felt for her by all the boys, about their being so kind to him and fond of him, about his being so fond of them, and about his being so glad of it. Then he told Mrs Pipchin about the analysis, and about his being certainly old-fashioned, and took Mrs Pipchin's opinion on that point, and whether she knew why it was, and what it meant. Mrs Pipchin denied the fact altogether, as the shortest way of getting out of the difficulty; but Paul was far from satisfied with that reply, and looked so searchingly at Mrs Pipchin for a truer answer, that she was obliged to get up and look out of the window to avoid his eyes.
There was a certain calm Apothecary, 'who attended at the establishment when any of the young gentlemen were ill, and somehow he got into the room and appeared at the bedside, with Mrs Blimber. How they came there, or how long they had been there, Paul didn't know; but when he saw them, he sat up in bed, and answered all the Apothecary's questions at full length, and whispered to him that Florence was not to know anything about it, if he pleased, and that he had set his mind upon her coming to the party. He was very chatty with the Apothecary, and they parted excellent friends. Lying down again with his eyes shut, he heard the Apothecary say, out of the room and quite a long way off - or he dreamed it - that there was a want of vital power (what was that, Paul wondered!) and great constitutional weakness. That as the little fellow had set his heart on parting with his school-mates on the seventeenth, it would be better to indulge the fancy if he grew no worse. That he was glad to hear from Mrs Pipchin, that the little fellow would go to his friends in London on the eighteenth. That he would write to Mr Dombey, when he should have gained a better knowledge of the case, and before that day. That there was no immediate cause for - what? Paul lost that word And that the little fellow had a fine mind, but was an old-fashioned boy.
What old fashion could that be, Paul wondered with a palpitating heart, that was so visibly expressed in him; so plainly seen by so many people!
He could neither make it out, nor trouble himself long with the effort. Mrs Pipchin was again beside him, if she had ever been away (he thought she had gone out with the Doctor, but it was all a dream perhaps), and presently a bottle and glass got into her hands magically, and she poured out the contents for him. After that, he had some real good jelly, which Mrs Blimber brought to him herself; and then he was so well, that Mrs Pipchin went home, at his urgent solicitation, and Briggs and Tozer came to bed. Poor Briggs grumbled terribly about his own analysis, which could hardly have discomposed him more if it had been a chemical process; but he was very good to Paul, and so was Tozer, and so were all the rest, for they every one looked in before going to bed, and said, 'How are you now, Dombey?' 'Cheer up, little Dombey!' and so forth. After Briggs had got into bed, he lay awake for a long time, still bemoaning his analysis, and saying he knew it was all wrong, and they couldn't have analysed a murderer worse, and - how would Doctor Blimber like it if his pocket-money depended on it? It was very easy, Briggs said, to make a galley-slave of a boy all the half-year, and then score him up idle; and to crib two dinners a-week out of his board, and then score him up greedy; but that wasn't going to be submitted to, he believed, was it? Oh! Ah!
Before the weak-eyed young man performed on the gong next morning, he came upstairs to Paul and told him he was to lie still, which Paul very gladly did. Mrs Pipchin reappeared a little before the Apothecary, and a little after the good young woman whom Paul had seen cleaning the stove on that first morning (how long ago it seemed now!) had brought him his breakfast. There was another consultation a long way off, or else Paul dreamed it again; and then the Apothecary, coming back with Doctor and Mrs Blimber, said:
'Yes, I think, Doctor Blimber, we may release this young gentleman from his books just now; the vacation being so very near at hand.'
'By all means,' said Doctor Blimber. 'My love, you will inform Cornelia, if you please.'
'Assuredly,' said Mrs Blimber.
The Apothecary bending down, looked closely into Paul's eyes, and felt his head, and his pulse, and his heart, with so much interest and care, that Paul said, 'Thank you, Sir.'
'Our little friend,' observed Doctor Blimber, 'has never complained.'
'Oh no!' replied the Apothecary. 'He was not likely to complain.'
'You find him greatly better?' said Doctor Blimber.
'Oh! he is greatly better, Sir,' returned the Apothecary.
Paul had begun to speculate, in his own odd way, on the subject that might occupy the Apothecary's mind just at that moment; so musingly had he answered the two questions of Doctor Blimber. But the Apothecary happening to meet his little patient's eyes, as the latter set off on that mental expedition, and coming instantly out of his abstraction with a cheerful smile, Paul smiled in return and abandoned it.
He lay in bed all that day, dozing and dreaming, and looking at Mr Toots; but got up on the next, and went downstairs. Lo and behold, there was something the matter with the great clock; and a workman on a pair of steps had taken its face off, and was poking instruments into the works by the light of a candle! This was a great event for Paul, who sat down on the bottom stair, and watched the operation attentively: now and then glancing at the clock face, leaning all askew, against the wall hard by, and feeling a little confused by a suspicion that it was ogling him.
The workman on the steps was very civil; and as he said, when he observed Paul, 'How do you do, Sir?' Paul got into conversation with him, and told him he hadn't been quite well lately. The ice being thus broken, Paul asked him a multitude of questions about chimes and clocks: as, whether people watched up in the lonely church steeples by night to make them strike, and how the bells were rung when people died, and whether those were different bells from wedding bells, or only sounded dismal in the fancies of the living. Finding that his new acquaintance was not very well informed on the subject of the Curfew Bell of ancient days, Paul gave him an account of that institution; and also asked him, as a practical man, what he thought about King Alfred's idea of measuring time by the burning of candles; to which the workman replied, that he thought it would be the ruin of the clock trade if it was to come up again. In fine, Paul looked on, until the clock had quite recovered its familiar aspect, and resumed its sedate inquiry; when the workman, putting away his tools in a long basket, bade him good day, and went away. Though not before he had whispered something, on the door-mat, to the footman, in which there was the phrase 'old-fashioned' - for Paul heard it. What could that old fashion be, that seemed to make the people sorry! What could it be!
Having nothing to learn now, he thought of this frequently; though not so often as he might have done, if he had had fewer things to think of. But he had a great many; and was always thinking, all day long.
First, there was Florence coming to the party. Florence would see that the boys were fond of him; and that would make her happy. This was his great theme. Let Florence once be sure that they were gentle and good to him, and that he had become a little favourite among them, and then the would always think of the time he had passed there, without being very sorry. Florence might be all the happier too for that, perhaps, when he came back.
When he came back! Fifty times a day, his noiseless little feet went up the stairs to his own room, as he collected every book, and scrap, and trifle that belonged to him, and put them all together there, down to the minutest thing, for taking home! There was no shade of coming back on little Paul; no preparation for it, or other reference to it, grew out of anything he thought or did, except this slight one in connexion with his sister. On the contrary, he had to think of everything familiar to him, in his contemplative moods and in his wanderings about the house, as being to be parted with; and hence the many things he had to think of, all day long.
He had to peep into those rooms upstairs, and think how solitary they would be when he was gone, and wonder through how many silent days, weeks, months, and years, they would continue just as grave and undisturbed. He had to think - would any other child (old-fashioned, like himself stray there at any time, to whom the same grotesque distortions of pattern and furniture would manifest themselves; and would anybody tell that boy of little Dombey, who had been there once? He had to think of a portrait on the stairs, which always looked earnestly after him as he went away, eyeing it over his shoulder; and which, when he passed it in the company of anyone, still seemed to gaze at him, and not at his companion. He had much to think of, in association with a print that hung up in another place, where, in the centre of a wondering group, one figure that he knew, a figure with a light about its head - benignant, mild, and merciful - stood pointing upward.
At his own bedroom window, there were crowds of thoughts that mixed with these, and came on, one upon another, like the rolling waves. Where those wild birds lived, that were always hovering out at sea in troubled weather; where the clouds rose and first began; whence the wind issued on its rushing flight, and where it stopped; whether the spot where he and Florence had so often sat, and watched, and talked about these things, could ever be exactly as it used to be without them; whether it could ever be the same to Florence, if he were in some distant place, and she were sitting there alone.
He had to think, too, of Mr Toots, and Mr Feeder, B.A., of all the boys; and of Doctor Blimber, Mrs Blimber, and Miss Blimber; of home, and of his aunt and Miss Tox; of his father; Dombey and Son, Walter with the poor old Uncle who had got the money he wanted, and that gruff-voiced Captain with the iron hand. Besides all this, he had a number of little visits to pay, in the course of the day; to the schoolroom, to Doctor Blimber's study, to Mrs Blimber's private apartment, to Miss Blimber's, and to the dog. For he was free of the whole house now, to range it as he chose; and, in his desire to part with everybody on affectionate terms, he attended, in his way, to them all. Sometimes he found places in books for Briggs, who was always losing them; sometimes he looked up words in dictionaries for other young gentlemen who were in extremity; sometimes he held skeins of silk for Mrs Blimber to wind; sometimes he put Cornelia's desk to rights; sometimes he would even creep into the Doctor's study, and, sitting on the carpet near his learned feet, turn the globes softly, and go round the world, or take a flight among the far-off stars.
In those days immediately before the holidays, in short, when the other young gentlemen were labouring for dear life through a general resumption of the studies of the whole half-year, Paul was such a privileged pupil as had never been seen in that house before. He could hardly believe it himself; but his liberty lasted from hour to hour, and from day to day; and little Dombey was caressed by everyone. Doctor Blimber was so particular about him, that he requested Johnson to retire from the dinner-table one day, for having thoughtlessly spoken to him as 'poor little Dombey;' which Paul thought rather hard and severe, though he had flushed at the moment, and wondered why Johnson should pity him. It was the more questionable justice, Paul thought, in the Doctor, from his having certainly overheard that great authority give his assent on the previous evening, to the proposition (stated by Mrs Blimber) that poor dear little Dombey was more old-fashioned than ever. And now it was that Paul began to think it must surely be old-fashioned to be very thin, and light, and easily tired, and soon disposed to lie down anywhere and rest; for he couldn't help feeling that these were more and more his habits every day.
At last the party-day arrived; and Doctor Blimber said at breakfast, 'Gentlemen, we will resume our studies on the twenty-fifth of next month.' Mr Toots immediately threw off his allegiance, and put on his ring: and mentioning the Doctor in casual conversation shortly afterwards, spoke of him as 'Blimber'! This act of freedom inspired the older pupils with admiration and envy; but the younger spirits were appalled, and seemed to marvel that no beam fell down and crushed him.
Not the least allusion was made to the ceremonies of the evening, either at breakfast or at dinner; but there was a bustle in the house all day, and in the course of his perambulations, Paul made acquaintance with various strange benches and candlesticks, and met a harp in a green greatcoat standing on the landing outside the drawing-room door. There was something queer, too, about Mrs Blimber's head at dinner-time, as if she had screwed her hair up too tight; and though Miss Blimber showed a graceful bunch of plaited hair on each temple, she seemed to have her own little curls in paper underneath, and in a play-bill too; for Paul read 'Theatre Royal' over one of her sparkling spectacles, and 'Brighton' over the other.
There was a grand array of white waistcoats and cravats in the young gentlemen's bedrooms as evening approached; and such a smell of singed hair, that Doctor Blimber sent up the footman with his compliments, and wished to know if the house was on fire. But it was only the hairdresser curling the young gentlemen, and over-heating his tongs in the ardour of business.
When Paul was dressed - which was very soon done, for he felt unwell and drowsy, and was not able to stand about it very long - he went down into the drawing-room; where he found Doctor Blimber pacing up and down the room full dressed, but with a dignified and unconcerned demeanour, as if he thought it barely possible that one or two people might drop in by and by. Shortly afterwards, Mrs Blimber appeared, looking lovely, Paul thought; and attired in such a number of skirts that it was quite an excursion to walk round her. Miss Blimber came down soon after her Mama; a little squeezed in appearance, but very charming.
Mr Toots and Mr Feeder were the next arrivals. Each of these gentlemen brought his hat in his hand, as if he lived somewhere else; and when they were announced by the butler, Doctor Blimber said, 'Ay, ay, ay! God bless my soul!' and seemed extremely glad to see them. Mr Toots was one blaze of jewellery and buttons; and he felt the circumstance so strongly, that when he had shaken hands with the Doctor, and had bowed to Mrs Blimber and Miss Blimber, he took Paul aside, and said, 'What do you think of this, Dombey?'
But notwithstanding this modest confidence in himself, Mr Toots appeared to be involved in a good deal of uncertainty whether, on the whole, it was judicious to button the bottom button of his waistcoat, and whether, on a calm revision of all the circumstances, it was best to wear his waistbands turned up or turned down. Observing that Mr Feeder's were turned up, Mr Toots turned his up; but the waistbands of the next arrival being turned down, Mr Toots turned his down. The differences in point of waistcoat-buttoning, not only at the bottom, but at the top too, became so numerous and complicated as the arrivals thickened, that Mr Toots was continually fingering that article of dress, as if he were performing on some instrument; and appeared to find the incessant execution it demanded, quite bewildering. All the young gentlemen, tightly cravatted, curled, and pumped, and with their best hats in their hands, having been at different times announced and introduced, Mr Baps, the dancing-master, came, accompanied by Mrs Baps, to whom Mrs Blimber was extremely kind and condescending. Mr Baps was a very grave gentleman, with a slow and measured manner of speaking; and before he had stood under the lamp five minutes, he began to talk to Toots (who had been silently comparing pumps with him) about what you were to do with your raw materials when they came into your ports in return for your drain of gold. Mr Toots, to whom the question seemed perplexing, suggested 'Cook 'em.' But Mr Baps did not appear to think that would do.
Paul now slipped away from the cushioned corner of a sofa, which had been his post of observation, and went downstairs into the tea-room to be ready for Florence, whom he had not seen for nearly a fortnight, as he had remained at Doctor Blimber's on the previous Saturday and Sunday, lest he should take cold. Presently she came: looking so beautiful in her simple ball dress, with her fresh flowers in her hand, that when she knelt down on the ground to take Paul round the neck and kiss him (for there was no one there, but his friend and another young woman waiting to serve out the tea), he could hardly make up his mind to let her go again, or to take away her bright and loving eyes from his face.
'But what is the matter, Floy?' asked Paul, almost sure that he saw a tear there.
'Nothing, darling; nothing,' returned Florence.
Paul touched her cheek gently with his finger - and it was a tear! 'Why, Floy!' said he.
'We'll go home together, and I'll nurse you, love,' said Florence.
'Nurse me!' echoed Paul.
Paul couldn't understand what that had to do with it, nor why the two young women looked on so seriously, nor why Florence turned away her face for a moment, and then turned it back, lighted up again with smiles.
'Floy,' said Paul, holding a ringlet of her dark hair in his hand. 'Tell me, dear, Do you think I have grown old-fashioned?'
His sister laughed, and fondled him, and told him 'No.'
'Because I know they say so,' returned Paul, 'and I want to know what they mean, Floy.' But a loud double knock coming at the door, and Florence hurrying to the table, there was no more said between them. Paul wondered again when he saw his friend whisper to Florence, as if she were comforting her; but a new arrival put that out of his head speedily.
It was Sir Barnet Skettles, Lady Skettles, and Master Skettles. Master Skettles was to be a new boy after the vacation, and Fame had been busy, in Mr Feeder's room, with his father, who was in the House of Commons, and of whom Mr Feeder had said that when he did catch the Speaker's eye (which he had been expected to do for three or four years), it was anticipated that he would rather touch up the Radicals.
'And what room is this now, for instance?' said Lady Skettles to Paul's friend, 'Melia.
'Doctor Blimber's study, Ma'am,' was the reply.
Lady Skettles took a panoramic survey of it through her glass, and said to Sir Barnet Skettles, with a nod of approval, 'Very good.' Sir Barnet assented, but Master Skettles looked suspicious and doubtful.
'And this little creature, now,' said Lady Skettles, turning to Paul. 'Is he one of the
'Young gentlemen, Ma'am; yes, Ma'am,' said Paul's friend.
'And what is your name, my pale child?' said Lady Skettles.
'Dombey,' answered Paul.
Sir Barnet Skettles immediately interposed, and said that he had had the honour of meeting Paul's father at a public dinner, and that he hoped he was very well. Then Paul heard him say to Lady Skettles, 'City - very rich - most respectable - Doctor mentioned it.' And then he said to Paul, 'Will you tell your good Papa that Sir Barnet Skettles rejoiced to hear that he was very well, and sent him his best compliments?'
'Yes, Sir,' answered Paul.
'That is my brave boy,' said Sir Barnet Skettles. 'Barnet,' to Master Skettles, who was revenging himself for the studies to come, on the plum-cake, 'this is a young gentleman you ought to know. This is a young gentleman you may know, Barnet,' said Sir Barnet Skettles, with an emphasis on the permission.
'What eyes! What hair! What a lovely face!' exclaimed Lady Skettles softly, as she looked at Florence through her glass. 'My sister,' said Paul, presenting her.
The satisfaction of the Skettleses was now complex And as Lady Skettles had conceived, at first sight, a liking for Paul, they all went upstairs together: Sir Barnet Skettles taking care of Florence, and young Barnet following.
Young Barnet did not remain long in the background after they had reached the drawing-room, for Dr Blimber had him out in no time, dancing with Florence. He did not appear to Paul to be particularly happy, or particularly anything but sulky, or to care much what he was about; but as Paul heard Lady Skettles say to Mrs Blimber, while she beat time with her fan, that her dear boy was evidently smitten to death by that angel of a child, Miss Dombey, it would seem that Skettles Junior was in a state of bliss, without showing it.
Little Paul thought it a singular coincidence that nobody had occupied his place among the pillows; and that when he came into the room again, they should all make way for him to go back to it, remembering it was his. Nobody stood before him either, when they observed that he liked to see Florence dancing, but they left the space in front quite clear, so that he might follow her with his eyes. They were so kind, too, even the strangers, of whom there were soon a great many, that they came and spoke to him every now and then, and asked him how he was, and if his head ached, and whether he was tired. He was very much obliged to them for all their kindness and attention, and reclining propped up in his corner, with Mrs Blimber and Lady Skettles on the same sofa, and Florence coming and sitting by his side as soon as every dance was ended, he looked on very happily indeed.
Florence would have sat by him all night, and would not have danced at all of her own accord, but Paul made her, by telling her how much it pleased him. And he told her the truth, too; for his small heart swelled, and his face glowed, when he saw how much they all admired her, and how she was the beautiful little rosebud of the room.
From his nest among the pillows, Paul could see and hear almost everything that passed as if the whole were being done for his amusement. Among other little incidents that he observed, he observed Mr Baps the dancing-master get into conversation with Sir Barnet Skettles, and very soon ask him, as he had asked Mr Toots, what you were to do with your raw materials, when they came into your ports in return for your drain of gold - which was such a mystery to Paul that he was quite desirous to know what ought to be done with them. Sir Barnet Skettles had much to say upon the question, and said it; but it did not appear to solve the question, for Mr Baps retorted, Yes, but supposing Russia stepped in with her tallows; which struck Sir Barnet almost dumb, for he could only shake his head after that, and say, Why then you must fall back upon your cottons, he supposed.
Sir Barnet Skettles looked after Mr Baps when he went to cheer up Mrs Baps (who, being quite deserted, was pretending to look over the music-book of the gentleman who played the harp), as if he thought him a remarkable kind of man; and shortly afterwards he said so in those words to Doctor Blimber, and inquired if he might take the liberty of asking who he was, and whether he had ever been in the Board of Trade. Doctor Blimber answered no, he believed not; and that in fact he was a Professor of - '
'Of something connected with statistics, I'll swear?' observed Sir Barnet Skettles.
'Why no, Sir Barnet,' replied Doctor Blimber, rubbing his chin. 'No, not exactly.'
'Figures of some sort, I would venture a bet,' said Sir Barnet Skettles.
'Why yes,' said Doctor Blimber, yes, but not of that sort. Mr Baps is a very worthy sort of man, Sir Barnet, and - in fact he's our Professor of dancing.'
Paul was amazed to see that this piece of information quite altered Sir Barnet Skettles's opinion of Mr Baps, and that Sir Barnet flew into a perfect rage, and glowered at Mr Baps over on the other side of the room. He even went so far as to D Mr Baps to Lady Skettles, in telling her what had happened, and to say that it was like his most con-sum-mate and con-foun-ded impudence.
There was another thing that Paul observed. Mr Feeder, after imbibing several custard-cups of negus, began to enjoy himself. The dancing in general was ceremonious, and the music rather solemn - a little like church music in fact - but after the custard-cups, Mr Feeder told Mr Toots that he was going to throw a little spirit into the thing. After that, Mr Feeder not only began to dance as if he meant dancing and nothing else, but secretly to stimulate the music to perform wild tunes. Further, he became particular in his attentions to the ladies; and dancing with Miss Blimber, whispered to her - whispered to her! - though not so softly but that Paul heard him say this remarkable poetry,
'Had I a heart for falsehood framed,
I ne'er could injure You!' This, Paul heard him repeat to four young ladies, in succession. Well might Mr Feeder say to Mr Toots, that he was afraid he should be the worse for it to-morrow!
Mrs Blimber was a little alarmed by this - comparatively speaking - profligate behaviour; and especially by the alteration in the character of the music, which, beginning to comprehend low melodies that were popular in the streets, might not unnaturally be supposed to give offence to Lady Skettles. But Lady Skettles was so very kind as to beg Mrs Blimber not to mention it; and to receive her explanation that Mr Feeder's spirits sometimes betrayed him into excesses on these occasions, with the greatest courtesy and politeness; observing, that he seemed a very nice sort of person for his situation, and that she particularly liked the unassuming style of his hair - which (as already hinted) was about a quarter of an inch long.
Once, when there was a pause in the dancing, Lady Skettles told Paul that he seemed very fond of music. Paul replied, that he was; and if she was too, she ought to hear his sister, Florence, sing. Lady Skettles presently discovered that she was dying with anxiety to have that gratification; and though Florence was at first very much frightened at being asked to sing before so many people, and begged earnestly to be excused, yet, on Paul calling her to him, and saying, 'Do, Floy! Please! For me, my dear!' she went straight to the piano, and began. When they all drew a little away, that Paul might see her; and when he saw her sitting there all alone, so young, and good, and beautiful, and kind to him; and heard her thrilling voice, so natural and sweet, and such a golden link between him and all his life's love and happiness, rising out of the silence; he turned his face away, and hid his tears. Not, as he told them when they spoke to him, not that the music was too plaintive or too sorrowful, but it was so dear to him.
They all loved Florence. How could they help it! Paul had known beforehand that they must and would; and sitting in his cushioned corner, with calmly folded hands; and one leg loosely doubled under him, few would have thought what triumph and delight expanded his childish bosom while he watched her, or what a sweet tranquillity he felt. Lavish encomiums on 'Dombey's sister' reached his ears from all the boys: admiration of the self-possessed and modest little beauty was on every lip: reports of her intelligence and accomplishments floated past him, constantly; and, as if borne in upon the air of the summer night, there was a half intelligible sentiment diffused around, referring to Florence and himself, and breathing sympathy for both, that soothed and touched him.
He did not know why. For all that the child observed, and felt, and thought, that night - the present and the absent; what was then and what had been - were blended like the colours in the rainbow, or in the plumage of rich birds when the sun is shining on them, or in the softening sky when the same sun is setting. The many things he had had to think of lately, passed before him in the music; not as claiming his attention over again, or as likely evermore to occupy it, but as peacefully disposed of and gone. A solitary window, gazed through years ago, looked out upon an ocean, miles and miles away; upon its waters, fancies, busy with him only yesterday, were hushed and lulled to rest like broken waves. The same mysterious murmur he had wondered at, when lying on his couch upon the beach, he thought he still heard sounding through his sister's song, and through the hum of voices, and the tread of feet, and having some part in the faces flitting by, and even in the heavy gentleness of Mr Toots, who frequently came up to shake him by the hand. Through the universal kindness he still thought he heard it, speaking to him; and even his old-fashioned reputation seemed to be allied to it, he knew not how. Thus little Paul sat musing, listening, looking on, and dreaming; and was very happy.
Until the time arrived for taking leave: and then, indeed, there was a sensation in the party. Sir Barnet Skettles brought up Skettles Junior to shake hands with him, and asked him if he would remember to tell his good Papa, with his best compliments, that he, Sir Barnet Skettles, had said he hoped the two young gentlemen would become intimately acquainted. Lady Skettles kissed him, and patted his hair upon his brow, and held him in her arms; and even Mrs Baps - poor Mrs Baps! Paul was glad of that - came over from beside the music-book of the gentleman who played the harp, and took leave of him quite as heartily as anybody in the room.
'Good-bye, Doctor Blimber,' said Paul, stretching out his hand.
'Good-bye, my little friend,' returned the Doctor.
'I'm very much obliged to you, Sir,' said Paul, looking innocently up into his awful face. 'Ask them to take care of Diogenes, if you please.'
Diogenes was the dog: who had never in his life received a friend into his confidence, before Paul. The Doctor promised that every attention should he paid to Diogenes in Paul's absence, and Paul having again thanked him, and shaken hands with him, bade adieu to Mrs Blimber and Cornelia with such heartfelt earnestness that Mrs Blimber forgot from that moment to mention Cicero to Lady Skettles, though she had fully intended it all the evening. Cornelia, taking both Paul's hands in hers, said,'Dombey, Dombey, you have always been my favourite pupil. God bless you!' And it showed, Paul thought, how easily one might do injustice to a person; for Miss Blimber meant it - though she was a Forcer - and felt it.
A boy then went round among the young gentlemen, of 'Dombey's going!' 'Little Dombey's going!' and there was a general move after Paul and Florence down the staircase and into the hall, in which the whole Blimber family were included. Such a circumstance, Mr Feeder said aloud, as had never happened in the case of any former young gentleman within his experience; but it would be difficult to say if this were sober fact or custard-cups. The servants, with the butler at their head, had all an interest in seeing Little Dombey go; and even the weak-eyed young man, taking out his books and trunks to the coach that was to carry him and Florence to Mrs Pipchin's for the night, melted visibly.
Not even the influence of the softer passion on the young gentlemen - and they all, to a boy, doted on Florence - could restrain them from taking quite a noisy leave of Paul; waving hats after him, pressing downstairs to shake hands with him, crying individually 'Dombey, don't forget me!' and indulging in many such ebullitions of feeling, uncommon among those young Chesterfields. Paul whispered Florence, as she wrapped him up before the door was opened, Did she hear them? Would she ever forget it? Was she glad to know it? And a lively delight was in his eyes as he spoke to her.
Once, for a last look, he turned and gazed upon the faces thus addressed to him, surprised to see how shining and how bright, and numerous they were, and how they were all piled and heaped up, as faces are at crowded theatres. They swam before him as he looked, like faces in an agitated glass; and next moment he was in the dark coach outside, holding close to Florence. From that time, whenever he thought of Doctor Blimber's, it came back as he had seen it in this last view; and it never seemed to be a real place again, but always a dream, full of eyes.
This was not quite the last of Doctor Blimber's, however. There was something else. There was Mr Toots. Who, unexpectedly letting down one of the coach-windows, and looking in, said, with a most egregious chuckle, 'Is Dombey there?' and immediately put it up again, without waiting for an answer. Nor was this quite the last of Mr Toots, even; for before the coachman could drive off, he as suddenly let down the other window, and looking in with a precisely similar chuckle, said in a precisely similar tone of voice, 'Is Dombey there?' and disappeared precisely as before.
How Florence laughed! Paul often remembered it, and laughed himself whenever he did so.
But there was much, soon afterwards - next day, and after that - which Paul could only recollect confusedly. As, why they stayed at Mrs Pipchin's days and nights, instead of going home; why he lay in bed, with Florence sitting by his side; whether that had been his father in the room, or only a tall shadow on the wall; whether he had heard his doctor say, of someone, that if they had removed him before the occasion on which he had built up fancies, strong in proportion to his own weakness, it was very possible he might have pined away.
He could not even remember whether he had often said to Florence, 'Oh Floy, take me home, and never leave me!' but he thought he had. He fancied sometimes he had heard himself repeating, 'Take me home, Floy! take me home!'
But he could remember, when he got home, and was carried up the well-remembered stairs, that there had been the rumbling of a coach for many hours together, while he lay upon the seat, with Florence still beside him, and old Mrs Pipchin sitting opposite. He remembered his old bed too, when they laid him down in it: his aunt, Miss Tox, and Susan: but there was something else, and recent too, that still perplexed him.
'I want to speak to Florence, if you please,' he said. 'To Florence by herself, for a moment!'
She bent down over him, and the others stood away.
'Floy, my pet, wasn't that Papa in the hall, when they brought me from the coach?'
'Yes, dear.'
'He didn't cry, and go into his room, Floy, did he, when he saw me coming in?'
Florence shook her head, and pressed her lips against his cheek.
'I'm very glad he didn't cry,' said little Paul. 'I thought he did. Don't tell them that I asked.'
 
当暑假临近的时候，聚集在布林伯博士学校中的眼睛没有光泽的年轻的先生们没有有失体统地作出任何表示，来表露他们的高兴。任何像“散伙了”这样一些激烈的措辞，对于这个崇尚礼仪的学校来说，都是很不合适的。年轻的先生们每半年启程回家一次；但他们从来不散伙。他们会蔑视这种行动。
托泽按照他母亲托泽夫人的明确的意愿，佩戴了一条浆过的白色麻纱围巾，并经常被它擦伤、弄痛。他母亲立意要他接受一个教会的职位，并认为他预先做好准备愈早愈好。托泽确实曾经说过，如果两害相权取其轻的话，他想他宁可留在现在的地方，而不回家去。他的这个声明与他论述这个问题的一篇论文中的一段看来可能是矛盾的；他在那段文章中说，“对家的思念与所有的回忆在他心中唤醒了期待与喜悦的最愉快的情感”；他还把自己比作一位罗马将军，由于新近战胜爱西尼①而得意扬扬，或者满载着从迦太基掠夺来的战利品向前行进，还有几个小时的路程就可以到达朱庇特神殿②；可以推测，他在这里为了比喻，是把朱庇特神殿比作托泽夫人的寓所；但是尽管这样，他的那个声明是十分真诚作出的。因为托泽似乎有一位严厉可怕的伯父，他不仅自告奋勇，在假期中考问他一些深奥难解的问题，而且还抓住一些无害的事件与事情，耍弄花招，以达到同样残酷的目的。因此，如果这位伯父要领他到戏院看戏，或者在出于善意的类似借口下，领他去看一个大汉，或一个矮子，或一个邪术家，或不论是什么，托泽知道他必须事先读一读经典著作中在这个问题上提到过的一些话，因此他就处在一种极为忧虑不安的状态中，不知道伯父在什么时候会大发脾气，也不知道他会引用什么权威的话来反对他。
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①爱西尼（Iceni）：古不列颠部落，国王普拉苏塔古斯（Prasutagus）是罗马人的傀儡，罗马人企图在他死后吞并爱西尼，因此王后布狄卡（Boudica）率军反抗，罗马人打败了他们，并大杀爱西尼人。结果只剩下一个小部落。
②朱庇特神殿（Capitol）：朱庇特（Jupiter），也译朱比特，是罗马传说中的主神。
至于布里格斯，他的父亲决不要弄手腕。他不让他有片刻安宁。在假期中对这位年轻人进行的智力测验是那么繁多与严格，因此这个家庭的朋友们（当时住在伦敦堤水附近），每当走近肯辛顿花园中那个点缀性的水池时，心中很少不模糊地担心会看到布里格斯少爷的帽子漂浮在水面，而他未完成的练习则搁在岸边。因此，布里格斯对于假期完全不是满怀希望的；小保罗卧室中这两位同住者与所有其他年轻的先生们的情况十分相似；他们当中性格最灵活的人也是有教养地抱着听随天意的心情期待着这些假日的来临。
小保罗的情况却完全不一样。这头一个暑假一结束，他就要跟弗洛伦斯离别，可是暑假还没有开始呢，谁会去想到它的结束呢？保罗肯定不会去想。当快乐的时光愈来愈临近的时候，卧室墙上爬着的狮子和老虎变得十分驯服和爱闹着玩了。铺地板的漆布上的正方形与菱形中那些严厉的、狡猾的脸孔变得温和起来，不是用过去那样恶意的眼睛来窥视他了。那庄严的老时钟在它那遵守礼节的问话中语气变得更为关心人了；永不宁静的大海像先前一样整夜滚滚流动，伴随着它的是那忧郁而又令人愉快的音调，它随着波浪起伏而抑扬变化，仿佛在给他催眠。
文学士菲德先生似乎认为他也将好好地享受享受假日的乐趣。图茨先生打算从这次暑假开始，他整整一生都将过着假日的生活；因为他每天照例都要告诉保罗，这是他在布林伯博士的学校中的“最后半年”，他将立即开始继承他的财产。
保罗与图茨先生完全明白，他们虽然在年龄与身份上存在着差别，但是他们是亲密的朋友。随着假期临近，图茨先生在跟保罗待在一起的时候比过去哮喘得更加厉害，眼睛凝视着的次数也更多了；保罗知道，他这样是为了表示他对他们即将分离、不能相互见面而感到悲伤；保罗很感谢他的保护与好感。
甚至连布林伯博士、布林伯夫人和布林伯小姐以及所有的年轻的先生们也都明白，图茨不知怎么的，已自命为董贝的保护者与监护人了；这个情况甚至连皮普钦太太也都看得清清楚楚，所以这位善良的老太婆对图茨怀着怨恨与妒嫉的心情，在自己家里的圣堂中不断地斥责他是个“无知无识的傻瓜蛋”。然而天真无邪的图茨丝毫没有想到他已引起皮普钦太太的愤怒，就像他丝毫也没有其他确定的想法一样。相反的，他爱把她看作是个具有很多优点、极为出色的女士；由于这个缘故，在她看望保罗的过程中，他总是那么彬彬有礼地向她微笑，那么频繁地问她她好吗，因此终于有一夜她直言不讳地告诉他，不论他会怎么想，她对这不习惯；她不能忍受，也不想忍受这种情况，不论这是出自于他本人或出自于其他狂妄自大的臭小子。图茨先生的礼貌受到这样意想不到的报答，使他大为恐慌，所以他就隐藏到一个僻静的地方，直到她走开为止。从那时起，在布林伯博士的学校里，他再也没有面对着这位刚强的皮普钦太太。
离假期还有两三个星期的时候，有一天科妮莉亚•布林伯把保罗喊到她房间里，说：“董贝，我将把对您的分析评语寄到您的家里去。”
“谢谢您，夫人，”保罗回答道。
“您知道我说的是什么吗，董贝？”布林伯小姐通过眼镜严厉地看着他，问道。
“不知道，夫人，”保罗说道。
“董贝，董贝，”布林伯小姐说道，“我开始担心，您是个不可救药的孩子了。当您不知道一个语句的意义的时候，您为什么不要求解释呢？”
“皮普钦太太告诉我，我不许问问题，”保罗回答道。
“我得请求您不论在什么情况下也不要对我提到皮普钦太太，”布林伯小姐回答道。“我不能允许这样做。我们这里的学习课程跟任何那一类东西有着天渊之别。如果再重复这样的话，那就会迫使我要求您在明天早上吃早饭以前毫无差错地向我回答问题，从Verbumpersonale一直到Simillimacygno。”①
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①（拉丁文）意即“从‘人称动词’到‘更加像天鹅’。Simillimacygno是犹文纳尔著名诗歌中的最后一句：“Raraavisinterris，nigroquesimillmacygno”
（地上的鸟很少像黑天鹅）。
“夫人，
Chapter 15
Amazing Artfulness of Captain Cuttle, and a new Pursuit for Walter Gay
Walter could not, for several days, decide what to do in the Barbados business; and even cherished some faint hope that Mr Dombey might not have meant what he had said, or that he might change his mind, and tell him he was not to go. But as nothing occurred to give this idea (which was sufficiently improbable in itself) any touch of confirmation, and as time was slipping by, and he had none to lose, he felt that he must act, without hesitating any longer.
Walter's chief difficulty was, how to break the change in his affairs to Uncle Sol, to whom he was sensible it would he a terrible blow. He had the greater difficulty in dashing Uncle Sol's spirits with such an astounding piece of intelligence, because they had lately recovered very much, and the old man had become so cheerful, that the little back parlour was itself again. Uncle Sol had paid the first appointed portion of the debt to Mr Dombey, and was hopeful of working his way through the rest; and to cast him down afresh, when he had sprung up so manfully from his troubles, was a very distressing necessity.
Yet it would never do to run away from him. He must know of it beforehand; and how to tell him was the point. As to the question of going or not going, Walter did not consider that he had any power of choice in the matter. Mr Dombey had truly told him that he was young, and that his Uncle's circumstances were not good; and Mr Dombey had plainly expressed, in the glance with which he had accompanied that reminder, that if he declined to go he might stay at home if he chose, but not in his counting-house. His Uncle and he lay under a great obligation to Mr Dombey, which was of Walter's own soliciting. He might have begun in secret to despair of ever winning that gentleman's favour, and might have thought that he was now and then disposed to put a slight upon him, which was hardly just. But what would have been duty without that, was still duty with it - or Walter thought so- and duty must be done.
When Mr Dombey had looked at him, and told him he was young, and that his Uncle's circumstances were not good, there had been an expression of disdain in his face; a contemptuous and disparaging assumption that he would be quite content to live idly on a reduced old man, which stung the boy's generous soul. Determined to assure Mr Dombey, in so far as it was possible to give him the assurance without expressing it in words, that indeed he mistook his nature, Walter had been anxious to show even more cheerfulness and activity after the West Indian interview than he had shown before: if that were possible, in one of his quick and zealous disposition. He was too young and inexperienced to think, that possibly this very quality in him was not agreeable to Mr Dombey, and that it was no stepping-stone to his good opinion to be elastic and hopeful of pleasing under the shadow of his powerful displeasure, whether it were right or wrong. But it may have been - it may have been- that the great man thought himself defied in this new exposition of an honest spirit, and purposed to bring it down.
'Well! at last and at least, Uncle Sol must be told,' thought Walter, with a sigh. And as Walter was apprehensive that his voice might perhaps quaver a little, and that his countenance might not be quite as hopeful as he could wish it to be, if he told the old man himself, and saw the first effects of his communication on his wrinkled face, he resolved to avail himself of the services of that powerful mediator, Captain Cuttle. Sunday coming round, he set off therefore, after breakfast, once more to beat up Captain Cuttle's quarters.
It was not unpleasant to remember, on the way thither, that Mrs MacStinger resorted to a great distance every Sunday morning, to attend the ministry of the Reverend Melchisedech Howler, who, having been one day discharged from the West India Docks on a false suspicion (got up expressly against him by the general enemy) of screwing gimlets into puncheons, and applying his lips to the orifice, had announced the destruction of the world for that day two years, at ten in the morning, and opened a front parlour for the reception of ladies and gentlemen of the Ranting persuasion, upon whom, on the first occasion of their assemblage, the admonitions of the Reverend Melchisedech had produced so powerful an effect, that, in their rapturous performance of a sacred jig, which closed the service, the whole flock broke through into a kitchen below, and disabled a mangle belonging to one of the fold.
This the Captain, in a moment of uncommon conviviality, had confided to Walter and his Uncle, between the repetitions of lovely Peg, on the night when Brogley the broker was paid out. The Captain himself was punctual in his attendance at a church in his own neighbourhood, which hoisted the Union Jack every Sunday morning; and where he was good enough - the lawful beadle being infirm - to keep an eye upon the boys, over whom he exercised great power, in virtue of his mysterious hook. Knowing the regularity of the Captain's habits, Walter made all the haste he could, that he might anticipate his going out; and he made such good speed, that he had the pleasure, on turning into Brig Place, to behold the broad blue coat and waistcoat hanging out of the Captain's oPen window, to air in the sun.
It appeared incredible that the coat and waistcoat could be seen by mortal eyes without the Captain; but he certainly was not in them, otherwise his legs - the houses in Brig Place not being lofty- would have obstructed the street door, which was perfectly clear. Quite wondering at this discovery, Walter gave a single knock.
'Stinger,' he distinctly heard the Captain say, up in his room, as if that were no business of his. Therefore Walter gave two knocks.
'Cuttle,' he heard the Captain say upon that; and immediately afterwards the Captain, in his clean shirt and braces, with his neckerchief hanging loosely round his throat like a coil of rope, and his glazed hat on, appeared at the window, leaning out over the broad blue coat and waistcoat.
'Wal'r!' cried the Captain, looking down upon him in amazement.
'Ay, ay, Captain Cuttle,' returned Walter, 'only me'
'What's the matter, my lad?' inquired the Captain, with great concern. 'Gills an't been and sprung nothing again?'
'No, no,' said Walter. 'My Uncle's all right, Captain Cuttle.'
The Captain expressed his gratification, and said he would come down below and open the door, which he did.
'Though you're early, Wal'r,' said the Captain, eyeing him still doubtfully, when they got upstairs:
'Why, the fact is, Captain Cuttle,' said Walter, sitting down, 'I was afraid you would have gone out, and I want to benefit by your friendly counsel.'
'So you shall,' said the Captain; 'what'll you take?'
'I want to take your opinion, Captain Cuttle,' returned Walter, smiling. 'That's the only thing for me.'
'Come on then,' said the Captain. 'With a will, my lad!'
Walter related to him what had happened; and the difficulty in which he felt respecting his Uncle, and the relief it would be to him if Captain Cuttle, in his kindness, would help him to smooth it away; Captain Cuttle's infinite consternation and astonishment at the prospect unfolded to him, gradually swallowing that gentleman up, until it left his face quite vacant, and the suit of blue, the glazed hat, and the hook, apparently without an owner.
'You see, Captain Cuttle,' pursued Walter, 'for myself, I am young, as Mr Dombey said, and not to be considered. I am to fight my way through the world, I know; but there are two points I was thinking, as I came along, that I should be very particular about, in respect to my Uncle. I don't mean to say that I deserve to be the pride and delight of his life - you believe me, I know - but I am. Now, don't you think I am?'
The Captain seemed to make an endeavour to rise from the depths of his astonishment, and get back to his face; but the effort being ineffectual, the glazed hat merely nodded with a mute, unutterable meaning.
'If I live and have my health,' said Walter, 'and I am not afraid of that, still, when I leave England I can hardly hope to see my Uncle again. He is old, Captain Cuttle; and besides, his life is a life of custom - '
'Steady, Wal'r! Of a want of custom?' said the Captain, suddenly reappearing.
'Too true,' returned Walter, shaking his head: 'but I meant a life of habit, Captain Cuttle - that sort of custom. And if (as you very truly said, I am sure) he would have died the sooner for the loss of the stock, and all those objects to which he has been accustomed for so many years, don't you think he might die a little sooner for the loss of - '
'Of his Nevy,' interposed the Captain. 'Right!'
'Well then,' said Walter, trying to speak gaily, 'we must do our best to make him believe that the separation is but a temporary one, after all; but as I know better, or dread that I know better, Captain Cuttle, and as I have so many reasons for regarding him with affection, and duty, and honour, I am afraid I should make but a very poor hand at that, if I tried to persuade him of it. That's my great reason for wishing you to break it out to him; and that's the first point.'
'Keep her off a point or so!' observed the Captain, in a comtemplative voice.
'What did you say, Captain Cuttle?' inquired Walter.
'Stand by!' returned the Captain, thoughtfully.
Walter paused to ascertain if the Captain had any particular information to add to this, but as he said no more, went on.
'Now, the second point, Captain Cuttle. I am sorry to say, I am not a favourite with Mr Dombey. I have always tried to do my best, and I have always done it; but he does not like me. He can't help his likings and dislikings, perhaps. I say nothing of that. I only say that I am certain he does not like me. He does not send me to this post as a good one; he disclaims to represent it as being better than it is; and I doubt very much if it will ever lead me to advancement in the House - whether it does not, on the contrary, dispose of me for ever, and put me out of the way. Now, we must say nothing of this to my Uncle, Captain Cuttle, but must make it out to be as favourable and promising as we can; and when I tell you what it really is, I only do so, that in case any means should ever arise of lending me a hand, so far off, I may have one friend at home who knows my real situation.
'Wal'r, my boy,' replied the Captain, 'in the Proverbs of Solomon you will find the following words, "May we never want a friend in need, nor a bottle to give him!" When found, make a note of.'
Here the Captain stretched out his hand to Walter, with an air of downright good faith that spoke volumes; at the same time repeating (for he felt proud of the accuracy and pointed application of his quotation), 'When found, make a note of.'
'Captain Cuttle,' said Walter, taking the immense fist extended to him by the Captain in both his hands, which it completely filled, next to my Uncle Sol, I love you. There is no one on earth in whom I can more safely trust, I am sure. As to the mere going away, Captain Cuttle, I don't care for that; why should I care for that! If I were free to seek my own fortune - if I were free to go as a common sailor - if I were free to venture on my own account to the farthest end of the world - I would gladly go! I would have gladly gone, years ago, and taken my chance of what might come of it. But it was against my Uncle's wishes, and against the plans he had formed for me; and there was an end of that. But what I feel, Captain Cuttle, is that we have been a little mistaken all along, and that, so far as any improvement in my prospects is concerned, I am no better off now than I was when I first entered Dombey's House - perhaps a little worse, for the House may have been kindly inclined towards me then, and it certainly is not now.'
'Turn again, Whittington,' muttered the disconsolate Captain, after looking at Walter for some time.
'Ay,' replied Walter, laughing, 'and turn a great many times, too, Captain Cuttle, I'm afraid, before such fortune as his ever turns up again. Not that I complain,' he added, in his lively, animated, energetic way. 'I have nothing to complain of. I am provided for. I can live. When I leave my Uncle, I leave him to you; and I can leave him to no one better, Captain Cuttle. I haven't told you all this because I despair, not I; it's to convince you that I can't pick and choose in Dombey's House, and that where I am sent, there I must go, and what I am offered, that I must take. It's better for my Uncle that I should be sent away; for Mr Dombey is a valuable friend to him, as he proved himself, you know when, Captain Cuttle; and I am persuaded he won't be less valuable when he hasn't me there, every day, to awaken his dislike. So hurrah for the West Indies, Captain Cuttle! How does that tune go that the sailors sing?
'For the Port of Barbados, Boys!
Cheerily!
Leaving old England behind us, Boys!
Cheerily!' Here the Captain roared in chorus -
'Oh cheerily, cheerily!
Oh cheer-i-ly!'
The last line reaching the quick ears of an ardent skipper not quite sober, who lodged opposite, and who instantly sprung out of bed, threw up his window, and joined in, across the street, at the top of his voice, produced a fine effect. When it was impossible to sustain the concluding note any longer, the skipper bellowed forth a terrific 'ahoy!' intended in part as a friendly greeting, and in part to show that he was not at all breathed. That done, he shut down his window, and went to bed again.
'And now, Captain Cuttle,' said Walter, handing him the blue coat and waistcoat, and bustling very much, 'if you'll come and break the news to Uncle Sol (which he ought to have known, days upon days ago, by rights), I'll leave you at the door, you know, and walk about until the afternoon.'
The Captain, however, scarcely appeared to relish the commission, or to be by any means confident of his powers of executing it. He had arranged the future life and adventures of Walter so very differently, and so entirely to his own satisfaction; he had felicitated himself so often on the sagacity and foresight displayed in that arrangement, and had found it so complete and perfect in all its parts; that to suffer it to go to pieces all at once, and even to assist in breaking it up, required a great effort of his resolution. The Captain, too, found it difficult to unload his old ideas upon the subject, and to take a perfectly new cargo on board, with that rapidity which the circumstances required, or without jumbling and confounding the two. Consequently, instead of putting on his coat and waistcoat with anything like the impetuosity that could alone have kept pace with Walter's mood, he declined to invest himself with those garments at all at present; and informed Walter that on such a serious matter, he must be allowed to 'bite his nails a bit'
'It's an old habit of mine, Wal'r,' said the Captain, 'any time these fifty year. When you see Ned Cuttle bite his nails, Wal'r, then you may know that Ned Cuttle's aground.'
Thereupon the Captain put his iron hook between his teeth, as if it were a hand; and with an air of wisdom and profundity that was the very concentration and sublimation of all philosophical reflection and grave inquiry, applied himself to the consideration of the subject in its various branches.
'There's a friend of mine,' murmured the Captain, in an absent manner, 'but he's at present coasting round to Whitby, that would deliver such an opinion on this subject, or any other that could be named, as would give Parliament six and beat 'em. Been knocked overboard, that man,' said the Captain, 'twice, and none the worse for it. Was beat in his apprenticeship, for three weeks (off and on), about the head with a ring-bolt. And yet a clearer-minded man don't walk.'
Despite of his respect for Captain Cuttle, Walter could not help inwardly rejoicing at the absence of this sage, and devoutly hoping that his limpid intellect might not be brought to bear on his difficulties until they were quite settled.
'If you was to take and show that man the buoy at the Nore,' said Captain Cuttle in the same tone, 'and ask him his opinion of it, Wal'r, he'd give you an opinion that was no more like that buoy than your Uncle's buttons are. There ain't a man that walks - certainly not on two legs - that can come near him. Not near him!'
'What's his name, Captain Cuttle?' inquired Walter, determined to be interested in the Captain's friend.
'His name's Bunsby, said the Captain. 'But Lord, it might be anything for the matter of that, with such a mind as his!'
The exact idea which the Captain attached to this concluding piece of praise, he did not further elucidate; neither did Walter seek to draw it forth. For on his beginning to review, with the vivacity natural to himself and to his situation, the leading points in his own affairs, he soon discovered that the Captain had relapsed into his former profound state of mind; and that while he eyed him steadfastly from beneath his bushy eyebrows, he evidently neither saw nor heard him, but remained immersed in cogitation.
In fact, Captain Cuttle was labouring with such great designs, that far from being aground, he soon got off into the deepest of water, and could find no bottom to his penetration. By degrees it became perfectly plain to the Captain that there was some mistake here; that it was undoubtedly much more likely to be Walter's mistake than his; that if there were really any West India scheme afoot, it was a very different one from what Walter, who was young and rash, supposed; and could only be some new device for making his fortune with unusual celerity. 'Or if there should be any little hitch between 'em,' thought the Captain, meaning between Walter and Mr Dombey, 'it only wants a word in season from a friend of both parties, to set it right and smooth, and make all taut again.' Captain Cuttle's deduction from these considerations was, that as he already enjoyed the pleasure of knowing Mr Dombey, from having spent a very agreeable half-hour in his company at Brighton (on the morning when they borrowed the money); and that, as a couple of men of the world, who understood each other, and were mutually disposed to make things comfortable, could easily arrange any little difficulty of this sort, and come at the real facts; the friendly thing for him to do would be, without saying anything about it to Walter at present, just to step up to Mr Dombey's house - say to the servant 'Would ye be so good, my lad, as report Cap'en Cuttle here?' - meet Mr Dombey in a confidential spirit- hook him by the button-hole - talk it over - make it all right - and come away triumphant!
As these reflections presented themselves to the Captain's mind, and by slow degrees assumed this shape and form, his visage cleared like a doubtful morning when it gives place to a bright noon. His eyebrows, which had been in the highest degree portentous, smoothed their rugged bristling aspect, and became serene; his eyes, which had been nearly closed in the severity of his mental exercise, opened freely; a smile which had been at first but three specks - one at the right-hand corner of his mouth, and one at the corner of each eye - gradually overspread his whole face, and, rippling up into his forehead, lifted the glazed hat: as if that too had been aground with Captain Cuttle, and were now, like him, happily afloat again.
Finally, the Captain left off biting his nails, and said, 'Now, Wal'r, my boy, you may help me on with them slops.' By which the Captain meant his coat and waistcoat.
Walter little imagined why the Captain was so particular in the arrangement of his cravat, as to twist the pendent ends into a sort of pigtail, and pass them through a massive gold ring with a picture of a tomb upon it, and a neat iron railing, and a tree, in memory of some deceased friend. Nor why the Captain pulled up his shirt-collar to the utmost limits allowed by the Irish linen below, and by so doing decorated himself with a complete pair of blinkers; nor why he changed his shoes, and put on an unparalleled pair of ankle-jacks, which he only wore on extraordinary occasions. The Captain being at length attired to his own complete satisfaction, and having glanced at himself from head to foot in a shaving-glass which he removed from a nail for that purpose, took up his knotted stick, and said he was ready.
The Captain's walk was more complacent than usual when they got out into the street; but this Walter supposed to be the effect of the ankle-jacks, and took little heed of. Before they had gone very far, they encountered a woman selling flowers; when the Captain stopping short, as if struck by a happy idea, made a purchase of the largest bundle in her basket: a most glorious nosegay, fan-shaped, some two feet and a half round, and composed of all the jolliest-looking flowers that blow.
Armed with this little token which he designed for Mr Dombey, Captain Cuttle walked on with Walter until they reached the Instrument-maker's door, before which they both paused.
'You're going in?' said Walter.
'Yes,' returned the Captain, who felt that Walter must be got rid of before he proceeded any further, and that he had better time his projected visit somewhat later in the day.
'And you won't forget anything?'
'No,' returned the Captain.
'I'll go upon my walk at once,' said Walter, 'and then I shall be out of the way, Captain Cuttle.'
'Take a good long 'un, my lad!' replied the Captain, calling after him. Walter waved his hand in assent, and went his way.
His way was nowhere in particular; but he thought he would go out into the fields, where he could reflect upon the unknown life before him, and resting under some tree, ponder quietly. He knew no better fields than those near Hampstead, and no better means of getting at them than by passing Mr Dombey's house.
It was as stately and as dark as ever, when he went by and glanced up at its frowning front. The blinds were all pulled down, but the upper windows stood wide open, and the pleasant air stirring those curtains and waving them to and fro was the only sign of animation in the whole exterior. Walter walked softly as he passed, and was glad when he had left the house a door or two behind.
He looked back then; with the interest he had always felt for the place since the adventure of the lost child, years ago; and looked especially at those upper windows. While he was thus engaged, a chariot drove to the door, and a portly gentleman in black, with a heavy watch-chain, alighted, and went in. When he afterwards remembered this gentleman and his equipage together, Walter had no doubt be was a physician; and then he wondered who was ill; but the discovery did not occur to him until he had walked some distance, thinking listlessly of other things.
Though still, of what the house had suggested to him; for Walter pleased hImself with thinking that perhaps the time might come, when the beautiful child who was his old friend and had always been so grateful to him and so glad to see him since, might interest her brother in his behalf and influence his fortunes for the better. He liked to imagine this - more, at that moment, for the pleasure of imagining her continued remembrance of him, than for any worldly profit he might gain: but another and more sober fancy whispered to him that if he were alive then, he would be beyond the sea and forgotten; she married, rich, proud, happy. There was no more reason why she should remember him with any interest in such an altered state of things, than any plaything she ever had. No, not so much.
Yet Walter so idealised the pretty child whom he had found wandering in the rough streets, and so identified her with her innocent gratitude of that night and the simplicity and truth of its expression, that he blushed for himself as a libeller when he argued that she could ever grow proud. On the other hand, his meditations were of that fantastic order that it seemed hardly less libellous in him to imagine her grown a woman: to think of her as anything but the same artless, gentle, winning little creature, that she had been in the days of Good Mrs Brown. In a word, Walter found out that to reason with himself about Florence at all, was to become very unreasonable indeed; and that he could do no better than preserve her image in his mind as something precious, unattainable, unchangeable, and indefinite - indefinite in all but its power of giving him pleasure, and restraining him like an angel's hand from anything unworthy.
It was a long stroll in the fields that Walter took that day, listening to the birds, and the Sunday bells, and the softened murmur of the town - breathing sweet scents; glancing sometimes at the dim horizon beyond which his voyage and his place of destination lay; then looking round on the green English grass and the home landscape. But he hardly once thought, even of going away, distinctly; and seemed to put off reflection idly, from hour to hour, and from minute to minute, while he yet went on reflecting all the time.
Walter had left the fields behind him, and was plodding homeward in the same abstracted mood, when he heard a shout from a man, and then a woman's voice calling to him loudly by name. Turning quickly in his surprise, he saw that a hackney-coach, going in the contrary direction, had stopped at no great distance; that the coachman was looking back from his box and making signals to him with his whip; and that a young woman inside was leaning out of the window, and beckoning with immense energy. Running up to this coach, he found that the young woman was Miss Nipper, and that Miss Nipper was in such a flutter as to be almost beside herself.
'Staggs's Gardens, Mr Walter!' said Miss Nipper; 'if you please, oh do!'
'Eh?' cried Walter; 'what is the matter?'
'Oh, Mr Walter, Staggs's Gardens, if you please!' said Susan.
'There!' cried the coachman, appealing to Walter, with a sort of exalting despair; 'that's the way the young lady's been a goin' on for up'ards of a mortal hour, and me continivally backing out of no thoroughfares, where she would drive up. I've had a many fares in this coach, first and last, but never such a fare as her.'
'Do you want to go to Staggs's Gardens, Susan?' inquired Walter.
'Ah! She wants to go there! WHERE IS IT?' growled the coachman.
'I don't know where it is!' exclaimed Susan, wildly. 'Mr Walter, I was there once myself, along with Miss Floy and our poor darling Master Paul, on the very day when you found Miss Floy in the City, for we lost her coming home, Mrs Richards and me, and a mad bull, and Mrs Richards's eldest, and though I went there afterwards, I can't remember where it is, I think it's sunk into the ground. Oh, Mr Walter, don't desert me, Staggs's Gardens, if you please! Miss Floy's darling - all our darlings - little, meek, meek Master Paul! Oh Mr Walter!'
'Good God!' cried Walter. 'Is he very ill?'
'The pretty flower!' cried Susan, wringing her hands, 'has took the fancy that he'd like to see his old nurse, and I've come to bring her to his bedside, Mrs Staggs, of Polly Toodle's Gardens, someone pray!'
Greatly moved by what he heard, and catching Susan's earnestness immediately, Walter, now that he understood the nature of her errand, dashed into it with such ardour that the coachman had enough to do to follow closely as he ran before, inquiring here and there and everywhere, the way to Staggs's Gardens.
There was no such place as Staggs's Gardens. It had vanished from the earth. Where the old rotten summer-houses once had stood, palaces now reared their heads, and granite columns of gigantic girth opened a vista to the railway world beyond. The miserable waste ground, where the refuse-matter had been heaped of yore, was swallowed up and gone; and in its frowsy stead were tiers of warehouses, crammed with rich goods and costly merchandise. The old by-streets now swarmed with passengers and vehicles of every kind: the new streets that had stopped disheartened in the mud and waggon-ruts, formed towns within themselves, originating wholesome comforts and conveniences belonging to themselves, and never tried nor thought of until they sprung into existence. Bridges that had led to nothing, led to villas, gardens, churches, healthy public walks. The carcasses of houses, and beginnings of new thoroughfares, had started off upon the line at steam's own speed, and shot away into the country in a monster train.'
As to the neighbourhood which had hesitated to acknowledge the railroad in its straggling days, that had grown wise and penitent, as any Christian might in such a case, and now boasted of its powerful and prosperous relation. There were railway patterns in its drapers' shops, and railway journals in the windows of its newsmen. There were railway hotels, office-houses, lodging-houses, boarding-houses; railway plans, maps, views, wrappers, bottles, sandwich-boxes, and time-tables; railway hackney-coach and stands; railway omnibuses, railway streets and buildings, railway hangers-on and parasites, and flatterers out of all calculation. There was even railway time observed in clocks, as if the sun itself had given in. Among the vanquished was the master chimney-sweeper, whilom incredulous at Staggs's Gardens, who now lived in a stuccoed house three stories high, and gave himself out, with golden flourishes upon a varnished board, as contractor for the cleansing of railway chimneys by machinery.
To and from the heart of this great change, all day and night, throbbing currents rushed and returned incessantly like its life's blood. Crowds of people and mountains of goods, departing and arriving scores upon scores of times in every four-and-twenty hours, produced a fermentation in the place that was always in action. The very houses seemed disposed to pack up and take trips. Wonderful Members of Parliament, who, little more than twenty years before, had made themselves merry with the wild railroad theories of engineers, and given them the liveliest rubs in cross-examination, went down into the north with their watches in their hands, and sent on messages before by the electric telegraph, to say that they were coming. Night and day the conquering engines rumbled at their distant work, or, advancing smoothly to their journey's end, and gliding like tame dragons into the allotted corners grooved out to the inch for their reception, stood bubbling and trembling there, making the walls quake, as if they were dilating with the secret knowledge of great powers yet unsuspected in them, and strong purposes not yet achieved.
But Staggs's Gardens had been cut up root and branch. Oh woe the day when 'not a rood of English ground' - laid out in Staggs's Gardens - is secure!
At last, after much fruitless inquiry, Walter, followed by the coach and Susan, found a man who had once resided in that vanished land, and who was no other than the master sweep before referred to, grown stout, and knocking a double knock at his own door. He knowed Toodle, he said, well. Belonged to the Railroad, didn't he?
'Yes' sir, yes!' cried Susan Nipper from the coach window.
Where did he live now? hastily inquired Walter.
He lived in the Company's own Buildings, second turning to the right, down the yard, cross over, and take the second on the right again. It was number eleven; they couldn't mistake it; but if they did, they had only to ask for Toodle, Engine Fireman, and any one would show them which was his house. At this unexpected stroke of success Susan Nipper dismounted from the coach with all speed, took Walter's arm, and set off at a breathless pace on foot; leaving the coach there to await their return.
'Has the little boy been long ill, Susan?' inquired Walter, as they hurried on.
'Ailing for a deal of time, but no one knew how much,' said Susan; adding, with excessive sharpness, 'Oh, them Blimbers!'
'Blimbers?' echoed Walter.
'I couldn't forgive myself at such a time as this, Mr Walter,' said Susan, 'and when there's so much serious distress to think about, if I rested hard on anyone, especially on them that little darling Paul speaks well of, but I may wish that the family was set to work in a stony soil to make new roads, and that Miss Blimber went in front, and had the pickaxe!'
Miss Nipper then took breath, and went on faster than before, as if this extraordinary aspiration had relieved her. Walter, who had by this time no breath of his own to spare, hurried along without asking any more questions; and they soon, in their impatience, burst in at a little door and came into a clean parlour full of children.
'Where's Mrs Richards?' exclaimed Susan Nipper, looking round. 'Oh Mrs Richards, Mrs Richards, come along with me, my dear creetur!'
'Why, if it ain't Susan!' cried Polly, rising with her honest face and motherly figure from among the group, in great surprIse.
'Yes, Mrs Richards, it's me,' said Susan, 'and I wish it wasn't, though I may not seem to flatter when I say so, but little Master Paul is very ill, and told his Pa today that he would like to see the face of his old nurse, and him and Miss Floy hope you'll come along with me - and Mr Walter, Mrs Richards - forgetting what is past, and do a kindness to the sweet dear that is withering away. Oh, Mrs Richards, withering away!' Susan Nipper crying, Polly shed tears to see her, and to hear what she had said; and all the children gathered round (including numbers of new babies); and Mr Toodle, who had just come home from Birmingham, and was eating his dinner out of a basin, laid down his knife and fork, and put on his wife's bonnet and shawl for her, which were hanging up behind the door; then tapped her on the back; and said, with more fatherly feeling than eloquence, 'Polly! cut away!'
So they got back to the coach, long before the coachman expected them; and Walter, putting Susan and Mrs Richards inside, took his seat on the box himself that there might be no more mistakes, and deposited them safely in the hall of Mr Dombey's house - where, by the bye, he saw a mighty nosegay lying, which reminded him of the one Captain Cuttle had purchased in his company that morning. He would have lingered to know more of the young invalid, or waited any length of time to see if he could render the least service; but, painfully sensible that such conduct would be looked upon by Mr Dombey as presumptuous and forward, he turned slowly, sadly, anxiously, away.
He had not gone five minutes' walk from the door, when a man came running after him, and begged him to return. Walter retraced his steps as quickly as he could, and entered the gloomy house with a sorrowful foreboding.
 
沃尔特好几天打不定主意，去巴巴多斯的事情该怎么办；甚至他还怀着几分微弱的希望：董贝先生也许说话并不当真，或者他也可能会改变主意，通知他不去了；可是他这种想法本身就是极不可能的，能证实这种想法的任何迹象也没有出现，而时间又在消逝，他不能再延误下去了，所以他觉得必须毫不迟疑地采取行动。
沃尔特的主要困难在于怎样把他工作的变动情况透露给所尔舅舅；他知道这对他是一个可怕的打击。他感到尤其困难的是说出这个惊人的消息来摧毁所尔舅舅的情绪，因为老人最近情绪有了很大好转，有说有笑，小后客厅又恢复了往日欢乐的气氛。所尔舅舅已经把第一批债款归还给董贝先生，并满怀希望，能设法把其余的欠债还清。当他勇敢地从艰难中振作起来的时候，重新让他垂头丧气，这真是一件令人痛苦、迫不得已的事情。
然而决不能背着他悄悄地溜走。应当事先让他知道这件事。问题是怎样告诉他。至于去或不去，沃尔特认为他丝毫没有选择的权力。董贝先生明白无误地跟他说过，他年轻，舅舅的境况又不好；董贝先生还在伴随的眼光中清楚地提醒他，如果他拒绝去的话，那么他可以待在家中，但却不能待在他的办公室里。他舅舅和他都欠董贝先生的恩情；这份恩情还是沃尔特亲自去恳求来的。他也许已开始暗暗感到，他永远没有希望博得那位先生的好感，他也许还想到，董贝先生还不时藐视他，而那是很不公正的。可是不论情况是否这样，职责毕竟是职责，而职责是必须履行的，沃尔特心里这样想。
当董贝先生看着他，跟他说，他年轻，他舅舅的境况又不好的时候，脸上曾经流露出一种轻蔑的神色，傲慢不恭地、对他贬损地认为，他乐意游手好闲地依靠一个穷困没落的老头子过活；这一点刺痛了这个孩子高尚的心灵。沃尔特决定不用言语表白，而尽可能使董贝先生相信，他确实把他的品格看错了，所以在那次有关去西印度群岛的谈话之后，他急切地表现出比先前更加愉快和活跃，就像一个像他那样机灵、热心的孩子所能表现的。他太年轻，太缺乏经验，没有想到，他这种性格本身就可能使董贝先生不喜欢；董贝先生强烈的不高兴不论是正确的还是错误的，反正在它那阴影之下，这孩子表现出应变自如，有希望依然快快活活的样子，是决不会使他产生好印象的。相反倒很可能，在那位大人物看来，这颗诚实的心灵的这种新的表露是对他的公然反抗，因此他决意把它压下去。
“唉！最终反正总得告诉所尔舅舅的，”沃尔特叹了一口气，想道。沃尔特担心的是，如果由他本人告诉老人，并看到这消息在他起了皱纹的脸上所引起的第一阵反应的话，那么他的声音也许会稍稍颤抖，他脸上的神色也许不能像他所希望的那样轻松愉快，因此他决定去请卡特尔船长这位能干的斡旋者来帮忙。于是，星期天吃过早饭以后，他就从家里出发，再一次出其不意地到卡特尔船长的住所去。
他在途中愉快地记起，麦克斯廷杰太太每逢星期天上午都要到一个很远的地方去听梅尔奇斯代克•豪洛尔大师说教。这位大师原先在西印度船坞工作，后来由于仇人诬陷，说他曾用手锥钻破大酒桶，然后把嘴唇贴住洞孔偷喝桶中的酒，因此有一天他就被解除了职务；他曾经宣称，世界将在两年后的那一天上午十点钟毁灭；他开放一个客厅来接待狂热教派①的男女信徒们；在他们第一次的集会上，梅尔奇斯代克的训戒产生了很大的影响，在仪式结束时，他们欢天喜地地大跳圣舞，所以有的人竟都塌陷到下面的厨房里，把一个信徒的碾压机也砸坏了。
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①狂热教派：早期美以美教派中大声祈祷或说教的教派。
这些轶事是船长那天晚上把钱支付给经纪人布罗格里之后，反复唱那支《佩格姑娘》曲子的中间，在非常欢乐的时刻讲给沃尔特和他舅舅听的。船长自己也按时上一个邻近的教堂去。那教堂每逢星期天上午就升起英国国旗。因为教区事务员身体病弱，他就在那里好心地照管孩子们；由于他那神秘的钩子所起的作用，他在孩子们中间享有很高的威望。沃尔特知道船长从不改变他的习惯，所以尽快赶路，以便在他出门之前到达。他的速度很快，当他拐弯走进布里格广场的时候，他高兴地看到，那宽大的蓝色外衣和背心正悬挂在船长的打开的窗子的外面，在太阳下晾晒。
凡人的肉眼居然能看到外衣和背心离开船长的身体，这似乎是难以使人相信的；但他这时确实没有穿它们，否则他的双腿就堵塞住那毫无遮拦的临街的前门了，因为布里格广场的房屋是不高的。沃尔特对这发现很感惊奇，敲了一下门。
“斯廷杰，”他清楚地听到船长在楼上的房间里说道，仿佛敲门声跟他不相干似的，所以沃尔特就敲了两下。
“卡特尔，”他听到船长应答了一声，不一会儿，船长穿着干净的衬衣，裤上吊着干净的背带，围巾像一卷绳子一样松松地挂在脖子周围，头上戴着上了光的帽子，出现在窗口，在宽大的蓝色外衣和背心上方探出身来。
“沃尔，”船长惊奇地朝下看着他，喊道。
“是的，是的，卡特尔船长，”沃尔特回答道，“只是我一个人。”
“出了什么事了，我的孩子？”船长十分忧虑地问道，“吉尔斯是不是又有什么不幸了？”
“没有，没有，”沃尔特回答道，“舅舅很好，卡特尔船长。”
船长表示高兴，说他就下来开门。他这样做了。
“不过你来得很早，沃尔，”他们上楼之后，船长仍然怀疑地看着他，说道。
“啊，事情是这样，卡特尔船长，”沃尔特坐下说道，“我怕您会出去，而我想请您帮帮忙，像朋友般地给我出出主意。”
“行啊，”船长说道，“你想要什么呢？”
“我想要您的意见，”沃尔特笑嘻嘻地说道，“我只要这个。”
“那就往下说吧，”船长说道，“打起精神来，我的孩子！”
沃尔特向他叙述了发生的事情，叙述了他感到关于舅舅的困难，叙述了如果卡特尔船长能好意地帮助他克服困难的话，那么这对他来说将会是如释重负。卡特尔船长对展现在面前的未来的情景感到无限的震惊与慌张，这种惊愕的情绪逐渐地把他吞没，因此他的脸上失去了任何表情，连那蓝色的衣服、上了光的帽子和那只钩子也像失去了主人似的。
“您知道，卡特尔船长，”沃尔特继续说道，“就我自己来说，正如董贝先生所说的，我年轻，不需要考虑我。我明白，我得在这世界上给自己打出条道路来。但是在来这里的路上，我想，关于舅舅，我必须特别考虑到两点。我不是想说，我当之无愧是他生活的乐趣和他引以自豪的人——请您相信，我明白这一点——，但事实上我又确实是那样的。您说呢，难道您认为我不是吗？”
船长似乎竭力想从他震惊的深渊中挣扎起来，恢复脸上的表情，但却徒劳无益；那上了光的帽子只是默默无声地、带着难以表达的含意点了一下头。
“如果我活着，身体健康，”沃尔特说道，“这一点我倒并不担心，但是尽管这样，要是我离开了英国，我就很难希望再见到舅舅了。他已经老了，卡特尔船长；再说，他是按照习惯生活的——”
“停一下，沃尔！是不是没有顾客？①”船长突然恢复了原来的神态，问道。
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①英文custom的一个意义是习惯，另一个意义是顾客。沃尔特说的是习惯，船长误会为顾客。
“完全正确，”沃尔特点点头，回答道，“不过我想说的是，他是按照平时的习惯生活的，卡特尔船长，我说的是这个意思。如果说（就像您正确地指出的那样），他失去了存货和他这么多年已经习惯了的所有物品，他就会早死，那么，难道您认为他不会死得更早一些吗，如果他失去了——”
“他的外甥，”船长插嘴道，“说得对！”
“所以说，”沃尔特想法说得高兴一些，“我们必须尽最大的努力让他相信，这次离别毕竟只不过是一次短暂的离别；但是因为我更了解真情，或者说我担心我更了解真情，而且因为我有许许多多的理由要以热爱、孝顺与尊敬的感情来对待他，因此我害怕，如果由我想方设法来说服他的话，那么，我会把事情弄得十分糟糕的，这就是为什么我希望由您来告诉他的主要理由，这是第一点。”
“把方位拨过一点！”①船长用沉思的声音说道。
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①由于沃尔特讲了一点、二点，引起船长讲了一句航海用语。
“您说什么，卡特尔船长？”沃尔特问道。
“做好准备！”船长若有所思地回答道。
沃尔特停了一下，想听听船长是不是还要再补充一些意见，但是船长没有再讲什么，沃尔特就继续说下去。
“现在讲第二点，卡特尔船长。我很遗憾地告诉您，我不是董贝先生所喜爱的人。我一直来总是想方设法，作出我最大的努力，我也确实总是这样做的，可是他却不喜欢我。也许他不能左右自己的喜爱与厌恶，这一点我也不想说什么。我只是说，我敢肯定他不喜欢我。他派我到那里去，并不是因为那是个好差使；他不想把事情说得比实际好一些，他不屑于这样做；我不相信这次调动会帮助我在公司里晋升职位；相反的，我怀疑是不是要用这个办法把我永远打发掉，以便扫除障碍。可是这些话我们一句也别跟舅舅说，卡特尔船长，我们一定得尽量把这次派遣说成是一个有利的、前程远大的差使；我向您吐露真情，只是为了我在远方万一需要帮助的时候，在祖国能有一个知道我真实情况的朋友。”
“沃尔，我的孩子，”船长回答道，“在所罗门箴言中，你可以找到下面的话：‘让我们永远不缺少患难中的朋友，也不缺少送给他喝的酒！’你找到的时候，请把它记下来。”
这时船长以胜过千言万语的坦白真诚的神情，向沃尔特伸出手来；由于他对准确引用所罗门箴言和运用得当而感到得意，所以又重复说道：“你找到的时候，请把它记下来。”
“卡特尔船长，”沃尔特把船长伸出的大拳头满满地握在两只手中说，“除了所尔舅舅，您是我最爱的人。确实，在这世界上我没有更能信赖的人了。单单就离别这件事情本身来说，卡特尔船长，我并不把它放在心上；我为什么要把它放在心上呢！如果我可以自由地去寻找运气的话，如果我可以当一名普通的船员出去的话，如果我可以自由地自己承担风险，航行到天涯海角的话，那么我将高高兴兴地出去！我可能几年前就已经高高兴兴地出去碰碰我的运气如何了。但是这违背我舅舅的愿望，违背他为我所制订的计划，所以事情也就到此完结了。但是，卡特尔船长，我觉得我们过去有一些错误；就改善我的前途来说，我现在出去并不比当初一进董贝公司的时候就出去更好，也许还更坏一些，因为当时公司可能对我怀有好感，现在则肯定没有了。”
“回来吧，惠廷顿，”闷闷不乐的船长向沃尔特看了一些时候之后，低声说道。
“好的，”沃尔特哈哈大笑地回答道，“我担心，卡特尔船长，在像他那样的运气来到之前我就回来好多次了。并不是我要抱怨，”他活泼愉快、生气蓬勃、精神饱满地补充说道，“我没有什么要抱怨的。我丰衣足食，我能活下去。当我离开舅舅的时候，我把他交给您。我不能把他交给更好的人了，卡特尔船长。我跟您讲这一切，并不是因为我悲观失望。不，我不会的。我只是让您相信，我在董贝公司里对工作安排不能挑挑拣拣；派我到哪里去我就得到哪里去；向我建议什么，我就得接受什么。我被派出去对舅舅来说反倒更好，因为董贝先生是他尊贵的朋友，就像他过去实际所表明的那样，这一点您很清楚，卡特尔船长。我深信，如果我不在公司里天天引起他的厌恶的话，那么他还会像过去一样继续是他尊贵的朋友。所以说，西印度群岛万岁，卡特尔船长！船员们的那支歌是怎么唱的？”
“兴高采烈地，向着巴巴多斯港口前进吧，小伙子们！兴高采烈地，把古老的英国抛在后面吧，小伙子们！”
这时船长大声地参加合唱道：“啊，兴高采烈地，兴高采烈地！啊，兴高——采烈地！”
对面屋子里住着一位热心的小商船的船长，当最后一行歌词传到他灵敏的耳朵里时，他醉意未消，没有完全清醒过来，但却立刻从床上跳起来，打开窗子，放开嗓门，越过街道，参加合唱，产生了优美的效果。当他不能把最后的音调再支撑着唱下去的时候，他可怕地大叫了一声：“啊嗬！”，一方面是作为友好的问候，另一方面是想表示他还没有歇过一口气。然后，他关上窗子，重新躺到床上睡觉。
“现在，卡特尔船长，”沃尔特把蓝色的外衣和背心递给他，手脚十分忙乱地说，“如果您把这个消息去透露给所尔舅舅（按理说，他本来好几天以前就该知道它了），那么，到了我家门口，您知道，我就将跟您分手，在附近一带溜达溜达，直到下午。”
可是船长看来丝毫也不高兴接受这个任务，要不就是对他完成这个任务的能力完全没有信心。他曾经给沃尔特未来的生活与事业作过截然不同的安排，并对它感到完全称心满意；他对他在这个安排中所表现出的明智与预见性时常沾沾自喜，觉得这个安排的各个方面都完美无缺，因此现在要让这个安排在顷刻之间土崩瓦解，甚至还要帮助去破坏它，这需要他的意志作出很大的努力才行。船长还觉得要把他对这个问题的老想法从头脑中去掉，迅速换上全新的想法，就像要按照情势所要求的火急速度，把船上的老货物卸下，装上一批全新的货物，而又不把两批货物混杂、弄乱一样困难。因此，他没有跟沃尔特的心情合拍，急匆匆地穿上外衣和背心，而是拒绝现在就把这些衣服套在身上；他告诉沃尔特，这样重大的事情，应该允许他“咬一下指甲”。
“这是我的老习惯，沃尔，”船长说，“已经有五十年了。当你看到内德•卡特尔在咬指甲，那么，沃尔，你就可以知道，内德•卡特尔搁浅了。”
于是，船长把铁钩插在牙齿中间，仿佛那是一只手似的，同时露出富于智慧和思想深刻的神态，聚精会神地思考着这个问题的各个方面；他那智慧与深刻的思想是哲学的思考与认真的研究所集中与升华的结果。
“我有一位朋友，”船长神情恍惚地低声说道，“他会对这个问题以及其他任何问题发表意见；他曾把六比一的有利条件让给议会①，来和议会就某个问题打赌，结果他仍能胜过他们；可是他现在正沿着惠特比②岸边航行。”船长继续说下去，“这个人曾经两次从船上被冲打到水里，但却安然无恙，丝毫不受影响。他当学徒的时候，头上曾经被环端螺栓刺扎，断断续续的加起来有三个星期之久，可是在世界上仍找不到头脑比他更聪明的人。”
沃尔特虽然尊敬卡特尔船长，但却不由得由于这位聪明人不在而暗暗高兴；他衷心希望，在他的困难妥善解决之前，他的大智大慧不要用来处理它们。
“如果你把诺尔③的一个浮标给他看，”卡特尔船长用同样的声调说道，“请他谈谈他对它的看法的话，沃尔，那么他会说出一个跟浮标毫无关系的看法，就像你舅舅的钮扣跟浮标毫无关系一样。世界上没有一个人——至少是没有一个靠•两•条腿走路的人——能比得上他。没有能比得上他的！”
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①即如议会胜了，他赔六份；如他胜了，他得一份。
②惠特比（Whitby）：英格兰北约克郡的一个城镇，濒临北海，地处埃斯克（Esk）河口港湾东侧。
③诺尔（theNore）：英格兰肯特郡泰晤士河口湾一段沙滩。
“他姓什么，卡特尔船长？”沃尔特问道，他决定对船长的朋友发生兴趣。
“他姓邦斯贝，”船长说道，“可是我的天主！其实，像他那样头脑的人，你管他姓什么都可以！”
船长没有进一步阐明最后一句赞语的确切含意，沃尔特也没有对它寻根究底。因为当他有声有色地（就他和他的处境来说，这是很自然的）重新叙述他的主要困难时，他立刻发现船长又重新陷入先前那深思远虑的状态中。虽然他从浓密的眉毛下一动不动地凝视着他，可是他显然并没有看见他，也没有听见他说话，而是沉浸在思考之中。
实际上，卡特尔船长正在拟订宏伟的计划；他根本没有搁浅，而是很快就进入水的最深处，而且无法探找到他要穿透的底层。船长逐渐地完全看清了事情的原委：这里存在着一些误会，毫无疑问，这很可能是沃尔特而不是他所产生的误会。如果真有什么西印度群岛计划将讨诸实施的话，那么它也跟年轻、性急的沃尔特所设想的大不相同；它只能是使他飞黄腾达的一种新安排。船长心里想，“或者如果在他们之间（他是指在沃尔特与董贝先生之间）有点什么小小的疙瘩的话，那么只消双方的老朋友适时地说上一句话，那就可以完全解开，大家就会重新和好如初，就像把两条钩住的船调理顺当一样。”卡特尔船长从这些考虑中得出的想法是，由于他已经有幸认识董贝先生，在他们借钱的那个上午，曾经在布赖顿和他在一起很愉快地消度了半个小时；再说他们既然都是上流社会的人，而且相互了解，愿意把事情处理得和顺得当，那样就会很容易解决这样一类小小的困难，弄清事实真相；因此，他应尽的朋友之谊就是：现在什么话也不对沃尔特说，而是直接走到董贝先生的公馆，对仆人说，“老弟，劳驾您通报一下，卡特尔船长到这里来了。”然后在极为信任的气氛中会见董贝先生——钩住他的钮扣孔——，交谈一切，把事情处理得完善妥贴，然后得意扬扬地离开！
当这些想法出现在船长心中，逐渐成形的时候，他的脸色开朗起来，就像阴云密布的早晨退让给阳光灿烂的中午一样。他的眉毛原先极为不祥地紧皱着，现在不再直直地竖立，而是舒展开来，安祥平静；他的眼睛原先在紧张的思想活动过程中几乎已经闭上了，现在则随意地张开；他的微笑最初只出现在三小点——嘴的右角和两只眼角——，现在逐渐扩展到整个脸庞，向上波送到前额，掀起了那顶上了光的帽子；这帽子原先仿佛跟卡特尔船长一样搁了浅，现在则又跟他一样，愉快地漂浮起来了。
船长终于不再咬指甲，说：“现在，沃尔特，我的孩子，你帮我穿上衣服吧！”船长指的是他的外衣和背心。
沃尔特想不出，船长系领带为什么会那么用心，他把垂下的两端拧成像辫子一样的东西，然后穿进一个大金戒指中，戒指上刻着一幅图画，画中有一座坟墓、一条洁净的铁栏杆和一株树，它是纪念某个死去的朋友的。沃尔特也想不出船长为什么把衬衫领子使劲往上拉，拉到下面的爱尔兰亚麻布衬衫所许可的最大限度，这样一来他看上去就有了一副完好的遮眼罩来装饰自己了。沃尔特也想不出，船长为什么脱下鞋子，换上那双世上无双的短靴，那是他在不寻常的场合才穿的。船长终于穿着完毕，自己完全感到称心满意；他从墙钉上取下一面修脸用的镜子，从头到脚把自己打量了一番，然后拿起他那根多节的手杖说，他已经准备好了。
当他们走上街道的时候，船长的步态比往常显得更加踌躇满志，但沃尔特以为那是由于短靴的作用，对它并不注意。他们没走多远，遇到一位卖花的女人，船长突然停下脚步，仿佛心血来潮，闪出一个巧妙主意似的；他把她篮子里最大的一束花买下来，那是一个极为光彩夺目、芳香四溢的花束，形状像扇子，周围约有两英尺半，全都由最鲜艳的花朵组成。
卡特尔船长准备了这份打算送给董贝先生的礼品之后，跟沃尔特继续向前走去，直到他们到达仪器制造商门前，两人才都停下脚步。
“您就进去吗？”沃尔特问道。
“是的，”船长答道。他觉得在采取下一步行动之前必须首先把沃尔特打发走，他打算进行的拜访最好推迟到当天晚一些时候。
“您不会忘记什么吗？”沃尔特问道。
“不会，”船长回答。
“我马上就去溜达，”沃尔特说道，“我不妨碍您了，卡特尔船长。”
“好好地多逛一逛，我的孩子！”般长在他身后大声喊道。
沃尔特挥挥手，表示同意，接着就继续向前走去。
他没有特定的地方要去；但他想到田野里去走走，他在那里可以考虑考虑将来未知的生活，可以在树下一边休息一边安静地思索。他觉得汉姆普斯特德①附近的风光最美，而通向那里最好的道路是从董贝先生公馆旁边经过的。
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①汉姆普斯特德（Hampstead）：伦敦郊区地方。
当沃尔特从董贝先生的公馆旁边走过，向上望一眼，看到它那愁眉不展的正面的时候，它跟往常一样庄严、阴暗。所有的窗帘都已垂下，但上面的窗子是敞开着的，凉爽的微风吹拂着窗帘来回飘动，这是整座房屋外部唯一带有生气的迹象。沃尔特轻轻地走过，当他又走过几家人家的时候，他心里觉得高兴。
自从几年前发生了迷路的女孩子的事情以后，他经常对这房屋感到兴趣，这时他正是怀着这样的兴趣往回看，特别是望着上面一层的窗子。当他正这样看着的时候，一辆轻便四轮马车来到门前，一位举止庄重、穿着黑衣服、挂着一条沉甸甸的表链子的先生下了马车，走进屋里去。沃尔特后来回忆起这位先生和他的马车，他毫无疑问那人是位医生，于是心中纳闷起来，究竟是谁病了呢？可是他没有得出答案。他无精打采地想着其他事情，又走了一段距离。
不过他仍然想到这座房屋对他意味着什么，因为沃尔特总是爱以这样的希望来使自己高兴，那就是：也许总有那么一天，那位女孩子（她是他的老朋友，从那时以来，总是那样感谢他，那样高兴看到他）会使她弟弟关心他，使他的命运好转。但是在这时候他更喜欢想到的是，她仍继续记得他，而不是他可能得到什么世俗的利益；可是另一个更为清醒的想法在他耳边低声说道，如果那时候他还活着的话，那么他将在海外漂泊，被她遗忘；她则已经成婚，富有，高傲，幸福。世事沧桑，在完全改变了的情况下，她没有什么理由要比对一个她曾经有过的玩具更多地记得他；不会的，那时在她的记忆中，他可能还不如玩具呢。
可是沃尔特把那位流落在喧闹的街上、被他找到的那位漂亮的女孩子理想化了，把她与她在那天夜里天真的感谢以及在感谢中所表现出的纯朴、真诚等同化了，所以他认为，把她想成今后会变得高傲，这是对她的侮辱，他为此而感到羞愧。另一方面，他的沉思默想又是那么荒诞无稽，在他看来，如果想像到她已成长为一个女人，如果不是把她想成她跟善良的布朗太太在一起时那样一位纯朴、温柔、可爱的小人儿，而是想成另外一位什么人的话，那么这也同样是对她的侮辱。总之，沃尔特觉得由他本人来评断弗洛伦斯的是非长短，确实是会很不近情理的；他最好是把她的形象作为宝贵的、难以达到的、永不改变的、模糊不清的一种什么东西保存在心中；它具有使他快乐，像一只天使的手一样制止他进行任何卑劣勾当的力量，这一点却不是模糊不清的。
沃尔特那天在田野里游逛得很久，他听着鸟儿的啾鸣、礼拜天的钟声、城市中比平日减弱了的喧嚣声，同时呼吸着芳香的空气，有时举目眺望那朦胧不清的地平线，因为他的航程与目的地就在地平线的那一方；然后他又环顾四周英国的青草和故乡的风景。可是他几乎没有一次明确地想到他即将远离；他似乎一小时又一小时，一分钟又一分钟地把这思想搁置一旁，不去理会，尽管他始终在继续不断地想着它。
沃尔特已经把田野抛在后面，正怀着同样恍惚的心情，拖着沉重的脚步往回家的路途上行走，这时候他听到一个男人喊叫了一声，接着一个女人的声音响亮地喊着他的名字。他惊奇地转过身去，看到一辆朝着相反方向跑去的出租轿式马车在不远的地方停了下来；马车夫从座位上转过头来看他，向他挥鞭示意；车里一位年轻的女人从窗子里探出身来，精力充沛地向他打招呼。他跑到马车跟前，看到这位年轻女人就是尼珀姑娘；她万分焦急不安，几乎都要发狂了。
“斯塔格斯花园，沃尔特先生！”尼珀姑娘说，“劳驾您，帮个忙吧！”
“什么？”沃尔特喊道，“出了什么事了？”
“啊，沃尔特先生！斯塔格斯花园，劳驾您！”苏珊说。
“您瞧！”马车夫以一种兴高采烈与灰心绝望交织的神情，向沃尔特恳求道，“这位姑娘已经反反复复地说了老半天，她想要去的地方路走不通，我正想把车子转过身来找条出路呢。
乘坐过我马车的客人可多啦，可我从没见过像她这样的乘客。”
“您想到斯塔格斯花园去吗，苏珊？”沃尔特问道。
“对啦！她想到那里去。它在哪里？”马车夫抬高嗓门，粗声大气地说道。
“我不知道它在哪里！”苏珊疯狂似地大声说道，“沃尔特先生，我亲自到过那里一次，是带着弗洛伊小姐和我们可怜的、可爱的保罗少爷一起去的，就在您在城里找到弗洛伊小姐的那一天，因为在回来的路上我们把她丢了，理查兹大嫂和我，还有一条疯牛，还有理查兹大嫂的大儿子，虽然后来我去过那里，可是我却记不得它在哪里了，我想它已经塌陷到地底下去了。啊，沃尔特先生，别抛弃我不管，斯塔格斯花园，劳驾您！弗洛伊小姐最亲爱的宝贝——我们大家最亲爱的宝贝——、非常非常温顺的小保罗少爷啊！啊沃尔特先生！”
“慈善的上帝！”沃尔特喊道，“他病得很重吗？”“可爱的花朵儿！”苏珊绞扭着手哭道：“他一时想起想要看看他从前的奶妈，我就是来领她到他床边去
Chapter 16
What the Waves were always saying
Paul had never risen from his little bed. He lay there, listening to the noises in the street, quite tranquilly; not caring much how the time went, but watching it and watching everything about him with observing eyes.
When the sunbeams struck into his room through the rustling blinds, and quivered on the opposite wall like golden water, he knew that evening was coming on, and that the sky was red and beautiful. As the reflection died away, and a gloom went creeping up the wall, he watched it deepen, deepen, deepen, into night. Then he thought how the long streets were dotted with lamps, and how the peaceful stars were shining overhead. His fancy had a strange tendency to wander to the river, which he knew was flowing through the great city; and now he thought how black it was, and how deep it would look, reflecting the hosts of stars - and more than all, how steadily it rolled away to meet the sea.
As it grew later in the night, and footsteps in the street became so rare that he could hear them coming, count them as they passed, and lose them in the hollow distance, he would lie and watch the many-coloured ring about the candle, and wait patiently for day. His only trouble was, the swift and rapid river. He felt forced, sometimes, to try to stop it - to stem it with his childish hands - or choke its way with sand - and when he saw it coming on, resistless, he cried out! But a word from Florence, who was always at his side, restored him to himself; and leaning his poor head upon her breast, he told Floy of his dream, and smiled.
When day began to dawn again, he watched for the sun; and when its cheerful light began to sparkle in the room, he pictured to himself - pictured! he saw - the high church towers rising up into the morning sky, the town reviving, waking, starting into life once more, the river glistening as it rolled (but rolling fast as ever), and the country bright with dew. Familiar sounds and cries came by degrees into the street below; the servants in the house were roused and busy; faces looked in at the door, and voices asked his attendants softly how he was. Paul always answered for himself, 'I am better. I am a great deal better, thank you! Tell Papa so!'
By little and little, he got tired of the bustle of the day, the noise of carriages and carts, and people passing and repassing; and would fall asleep, or be troubled with a restless and uneasy sense again - the child could hardly tell whether this were in his sleeping or his waking moments - of that rushing river. 'Why, will it never stop, Floy?' he would sometimes ask her. 'It is bearing me away, I think!'
But Floy could always soothe and reassure him; and it was his daily delight to make her lay her head down on his pillow, and take some rest.
'You are always watching me, Floy, let me watch you, now!' They would prop him up with cushions in a corner of his bed, and there he would recline the while she lay beside him: bending forward oftentimes to kiss her, and whispering to those who were near that she was tired, and how she had sat up so many nights beside him.
Thus, the flush of the day, in its heat and light, would gradually decline; and again the golden water would be dancing on the wall.
He was visited by as many as three grave doctors - they used to assemble downstairs, and come up together - and the room was so quiet, and Paul was so observant of them (though he never asked of anybody what they said), that he even knew the difference in the sound of their watches. But his interest centred in Sir Parker Peps, who always took his seat on the side of the bed. For Paul had heard them say long ago, that that gentleman had been with his Mama when she clasped Florence in her arms, and died. And he could not forget it, now. He liked him for it. He was not afraid.
The people round him changed as unaccountably as on that first night at Doctor Blimber's - except Florence; Florence never changed - and what had been Sir Parker Peps, was now his father, sitting with his head upon his hand. Old Mrs Pipchin dozing in an easy chair, often changed to Miss Tox, or his aunt; and Paul was quite content to shut his eyes again, and see what happened next, without emotion. But this figure with its head upon its hand returned so often, and remained so long, and sat so still and solemn, never speaking, never being spoken to, and rarely lifting up its face, that Paul began to wonder languidly, if it were real; and in the night-time saw it sitting there, with fear.
'Floy!' he said. 'What is that?'
'Where, dearest?'
'There! at the bottom of the bed.'
'There's nothing there, except Papa!'
The figure lifted up its head, and rose, and coming to the bedside, said:
'My own boy! Don't you know me?'
Paul looked it in the face, and thought, was this his father? But the face so altered to his thinking, thrilled while he gazed, as if it were in pain; and before he could reach out both his hands to take it between them, and draw it towards him, the figure turned away quickly from the little bed, and went out at the door.
Paul looked at Florence with a fluttering heart, but he knew what she was going to say, and stopped her with his face against her lips. The next time he observed the figure sitting at the bottom of the bed, he called to it.
'Don't be sorry for me, dear Papa! Indeed I am quite happy!'
His father coming and bending down to him - which he did quickly, and without first pausing by the bedside - Paul held him round the neck, and repeated those words to him several times, and very earnestly; and Paul never saw him in his room again at any time, whether it were day or night, but he called out, 'Don't be sorry for me! Indeed I am quite happy!' This was the beginning of his always saying in the morning that he was a great deal better, and that they were to tell his father so.
How many times the golden water danced upon the wall; how many nights the dark, dark river rolled towards the sea in spite of him; Paul never counted, never sought to know. If their kindness, or his sense of it, could have increased, they were more kind, and he more grateful every day; but whether they were many days or few, appeared of little moment now, to the gentle boy.
One night he had been thinking of his mother, and her picture in the drawing-room downstairs, and thought she must have loved sweet Florence better than his father did, to have held her in her arms when she felt that she was dying - for even he, her brother, who had such dear love for her, could have no greater wish than that. The train of thought suggested to him to inquire if he had ever seen his mother? for he could not remember whether they had told him, yes or no, the river running very fast, and confusing his mind.
'Floy, did I ever see Mama?'
'No, darling, why?'
'Did I ever see any kind face, like Mama's, looking at me when I was a baby, Floy?'
He asked, incredulously, as if he had some vision of a face before him.
'Oh yes, dear!'
'Whose, Floy?'
'Your old nurse's. Often.'
'And where is my old nurse?' said Paul. 'Is she dead too? Floy, are we all dead, except you?'
There was a hurry in the room, for an instant - longer, perhaps; but it seemed no more - then all was still again; and Florence, with her face quite colourless, but smiling, held his head upon her arm. Her arm trembled very much.
'Show me that old nurse, Floy, if you please!'
'She is not here, darling. She shall come to-morrow.'
'Thank you, Floy!'
Paul closed his eyes with those words, and fell asleep. When he awoke, the sun was high, and the broad day was clear and He lay a little, looking at the windows, which were open, and the curtains rustling in the air, and waving to and fro: then he said, 'Floy, is it tomorrow? Is she come?'
Someone seemed to go in quest of her. Perhaps it was Susan. Paul thought he heard her telling him when he had closed his eyes again, that she would soon be back; but he did not open them to see. She kept her word - perhaps she had never been away - but the next thing that happened was a noise of footsteps on the stairs, and then Paul woke - woke mind and body - and sat upright in his bed. He saw them now about him. There was no grey mist before them, as there had been sometimes in the night. He knew them every one, and called them by their names.
'And who is this? Is this my old nurse?' said the child, regarding with a radiant smile, a figure coming in.
Yes, yes. No other stranger would have shed those tears at sight of him, and called him her dear boy, her pretty boy, her own poor blighted child. No other woman would have stooped down by his bed, and taken up his wasted hand, and put it to her lips and breast, as one who had some right to fondle it. No other woman would have so forgotten everybody there but him and Floy, and been so full of tenderness and pity.
'Floy! this is a kind good face!' said Paul. 'I am glad to see it again. Don't go away, old nurse! Stay here.'
His senses were all quickened, and he heard a name he knew.
'Who was that, who said "Walter"?' he asked, looking round. 'Someone said Walter. Is he here? I should like to see him very much.'
Nobody replied directly; but his father soon said to Susan, 'Call him back, then: let him come up!' Alter a short pause of expectation, during which he looked with smiling interest and wonder, on his nurse, and saw that she had not forgotten Floy, Walter was brought into the room. His open face and manner, and his cheerful eyes, had always made him a favourite with Paul; and when Paul saw him' he stretched Out his hand, and said 'Good-bye!'
'Good-bye, my child!' said Mrs Pipchin, hurrying to his bed's head. 'Not good-bye?'
For an instant, Paul looked at her with the wistful face with which he had so often gazed upon her in his corner by the fire. 'Yes,' he said placidly, 'good-bye! Walter dear, good-bye!' - turning his head to where he stood, and putting out his hand again. 'Where is Papa?'
He felt his father's breath upon his cheek, before the words had parted from his lips.
'Remember Walter, dear Papa,' he whispered, looking in his face. 'Remember Walter. I was fond of Walter!' The feeble hand waved in the air, as if it cried 'good-bye!' to Walter once again.
'Now lay me down,' he said, 'and, Floy, come close to me, and let me see you!'
Sister and brother wound their arms around each other, and the golden light came streaming in, and fell upon them, locked together.
'How fast the river runs, between its green banks and the rushes, 'Floy! But it's very near the sea. I hear the waves! They always said so!'
Presently he told her the motion of the boat upon the stream was lulling him to rest. How green the banks were now, how bright the flowers growing on them, and how tall the rushes! Now the boat was out at sea, but gliding smoothly on. And now there was a shore before him. Who stood on the bank! -
He put his hands together, as he had been used to do at his prayers. He did not remove his arms to do it; but they saw him fold them so, behind her neck.
'Mama is like you, Floy. I know her by the face! But tell them that the print upon the stairs at school is not divine enough. The light about the head is shining on me as I go!'
The golden ripple on the wall came back again, and nothing else stirred in the room. The old, old fashion! The fashion that came in with our first garments, and will last unchanged until our race has run its course, and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll. The old, old fashion - Death!
Oh thank GOD, all who see it, for that older fashion yet, of Immortality! And look upon us, angels of young children, with regards not quite estranged, when the swift river bears us to the ocean!
'Dear me, dear me! To think,' said Miss Tox, bursting out afresh that night, as if her heart were broken, 'that Dombey and Son should be a Daughter after all!'
保罗一直没有从他的小床上起来过。他躺在那里，十分平静地听着街道上的喧嚣声；他不很关心时间怎么流逝，但却用他留神的眼睛注视着它，并注视着周围的一切。
当阳光透过飒飒拂动的窗帘射入他的房间，像金黄色的水一样，在对面的墙上荡漾时，他知道晚间即将来临，天空红而美丽。当返照的回光渐渐消失，幽暗的暮色渐渐爬上墙壁的时候，他注视着它加深，加深，最后变成了夜间。于是他想到了长长的街道上怎样到处点缀着路灯，宁静的星群怎样在上空闪耀。奇怪的是，他的想像总爱飘浮到河边，他知道河水正穿流过这座巨大的城市；现在他想到它是多么乌黑，当它映照着星群时看去是多么深邃，尤其是，它是多么一往直前、滔滔不绝地滚流进海洋里去。
夜渐渐深了，街上的脚步声渐渐稀少了，他可以听见它们走近，当它们走过时可以数清它们的数目，然后听凭它们在空旷寂静的远方消失；这时候，他就躺在那里，注视着蜡烛周围五颜六色的光圈，耐心地等待着白天来临。唯一引起他不安的是那奔腾迅速、湍急的河流，有时他必须设法阻止它——用他孩子的手挡住它——或者用沙子堵住它的道路——，而当他看到它不可抗拒地继续向前奔流的时候，他就哭出来！可是经常待在他身旁的弗洛伦斯只要讲一句话就能使他恢复平静；这时他就把他可怜的脑袋倚靠在她的胸前，把他的梦境讲给她听，并且微笑着。
当黎明重新来临时，他盼望着太阳；当它那明亮喜人的光辉开始在房间里闪耀时，他为自己描绘了——，不，不是描绘了，而是看见了一幅图景：高高的教堂钟楼耸立在早晨的天空中；城市复活了，苏醒了，重新开始了生活，河流滚滚奔流（但仍和往常一样快），发出了闪闪的亮光；乡间的田野覆盖着亮晶晶的露珠，一片光辉。熟悉的声音和喊叫声逐渐从下面的街道中传来；公馆中的仆人们醒来了，忙忙碌碌，好些脸孔从门口往里探望，好些声音在悄悄地问那些看护他的人，他怎么样了。保罗总是自己回答道，“我好些了。我好多了，谢谢您！请这样告诉我爸爸吧！”
白天的忙乱，马车、大车的喧闹声和人们的来来往往渐渐使他感到厌倦，他会睡去，或者又会因为那迅猛奔腾的河流感到急躁不安，无法平静——孩子不知道这是在他睡着的时候还是醒着的时候发生的事情。“唉，它就永远也不停吗，弗洛伊？”有时他会问她，“我觉得，它是要把我带走呢！”
但是弗洛伊总是安慰他，叫他安心；他总是让她把头躺在他的枕头上，休息一会儿，这已成为他每天的快乐。
“你总一直在看护着我，弗洛伊，现在让我来看护你吧！”他们会在他的床角放一个软垫来支撑他；当她躺在他身旁时，他就斜靠在那里，不时弯下身去吻她，并跟床边的人低声说，她累了，她曾经怎样许多夜坐在他的身旁。
就这样，炎热、光明的白天的亮光逐渐消逝了，金黄色的水波又重新在墙上荡漾。
有三位重要的医生来看他——他们通常在楼下开会，然后一起上来——；房间里非常安静，保罗又非常注意地观察他们（虽然他从来没有向任何人问过他们说了些什么），所以他甚至可以分辨得出他们表声的差别。但是他的兴趣集中在经常坐在他床边的帕克•佩普斯爵士身上。因为保罗好久以前曾听他们说，当他妈妈把弗洛伦斯搂在怀里死去的时候，这位先生也在场。现在他忘不了这件事。他由于这一点而喜欢他。他不害怕。
他周围的人们在莫名其妙地变换着，就像在布林伯博士家里头一个晚上一样。只有弗洛伦斯一个人例外，她从来没有被换走过。先前是帕克•佩普斯，现在却换成了他的父亲，坐在那里，用一只手支托着头。在安乐椅里打瞌睡的老皮普钦太太时常变换成托克斯小姐或他的姑妈；这时保罗很乐意重新闭上眼睛，平平静静地等待着随后发生的情况。但是这个用一只手支托着头的人影儿这么频繁地回来，待的时间这么长久，坐在那里那么呆板、严肃，从来不跟人说话，也从来没有人跟他说话，又很少抬起脸来，因此保罗开始倦乏地纳闷，他究竟是不是真的人，夜间看到他坐在那里的时候他感到害怕。
“弗洛伊！”他问道，“那是什么？”
“哪儿，亲爱的？”
“那里！在床的那一头！”
“那是爸爸，没有别的。”
那人影儿抬起头，站起来，走到床边，说道，“我亲爱的孩子，你不认识我了吗？”
保罗看着那人影儿的脸，心里想，这是他的父亲吗？他觉得那张脸已经改变了许多；当他注视它的时候，它似乎由于痛苦而颤动着；他还来不及伸出两只手捧住它，把它拉向身边时，那人影儿就迅速从小床边转开，走向门口。
保罗怀着一颗忐忑不安的心望着弗洛伦斯，但是他知道她将要说什么，就用脸堵住她的嘴唇。他下一次看到那人影儿坐在床的那一头时，他向它喊道：
“不要为我这么难过，亲爱的爸爸！我确实是很快乐的！”
他父亲很快走过来，没有在床边先停留一会儿，就立刻向他弯下身子；这时候保罗搂着他的脖子，把这些话很恳切地向他重复说了几次；在这之后，不论是白天还是黑夜，保罗就没有再看见他来到房间里来了；他经常喊道，“不要为我这样难过，我确实是很快乐的！”也就是从这时候起，他开始每天早上总要说，他好多了，请他们这样去告诉他的父亲。
那金黄色的水波在墙上荡漾了多少次，那乌黑乌黑的河流不顾他的不愿意，多少夜滚滚流向海洋，保罗从来没有计算过，也从来不想要知道。如果它们能够更亲切一些，或者他能感到它们对他更亲切一些的话，那么，它们对他就会一天天更加亲切了，而他对它们也就会一天天更为感激了。可是日子过去了多少，现在对这个温顺的孩子来说似乎并不重要。
有一天夜里，他一直在想他的母亲和挂在楼下客厅中的她的画像；他想到，她一定比他爸爸更爱弗洛伦斯；正因为这样，所以当她觉得自己快要死的时候，她曾经把弗洛伦斯拥抱在怀中，因为甚至是他，她的弟弟，一个这样深深地爱着她的人，也没有比这更为强烈的愿望了。沿着这条思路想下去，他觉得需要问一个问题：他是不是见过他的妈妈，因为他已记不起他们是不是曾经告诉过他“见过”还是“没有见过”；河水流得十分迅速，使他的头脑混乱不清。
“弗洛伊，我看见过妈妈没有？”
“没有，亲爱的，为什么你要问这个问题？”
“当我还是个婴儿的时候，我有没有看见过像妈妈那样仁慈的脸看着我，弗洛伊？”
他表示怀疑地问道，仿佛在他面前出现了一张脸孔的幻影。
“是的，你看见过，亲爱的！”
“谁的脸，弗洛伊？”
“你从前的奶妈的，你常常见到它。”
“我从前的奶妈现在在哪里？”保罗问道，“她是不是也死了？弗洛伊，是不是除了你，我们大家全都死了？”
房间里一阵慌乱，持续了片刻——也许还长久些，但似乎也不会长久多少——，然后一切又平静下来。弗洛伦斯脸上毫无血色，但却微笑着，用胳膊枕着他的头。她的胳膊颤抖得很厉害。
“请让我看看我从前的那位奶妈吧，弗洛伊！”
“她不在这里，亲爱的。她明天一定会来的。”
“谢谢你，弗洛伊！”
保罗讲完这些话，合上眼睛，睡着了。当他醒来的时候，太阳已经升高，白天明亮、温暖。他躺了一会儿，望着打开的窗子和在微风中飒飒作响、来回飘动的窗帘；然后他问道：
“弗洛伊，明天到了吗？她来了吗？”
似乎已经有人去找她了。也许是苏珊。保罗觉得，当他重新合上眼睛的时候，他听到她告诉他，她很快就会回来；但是他没有张开眼睛看。她信守她的诺言——也许她先前从没有离开过呢——可是接着，楼梯上传来了一阵脚步声，于是保罗醒来了——脑子和身体全都清醒了——，笔直地坐在床上。他现在看见他们都聚集在他的身旁。夜间有时出现的那一层灰蒙蒙的雾，已经在他们面前消失。他认识他们每一个人，并喊出他们每一个人的名字。
“这是谁呀？是我从前的奶妈吗？”孩子容光焕发，满脸笑容地望着走进来的一个人影儿问道。
是的，是的。不会有另一位陌生人见到他的时候会流出那些眼泪，会把他叫做她亲爱的孩子，她宝贝的孩子，她可怜的多病多难的孩子。不会有另外一位妇女会在他的床旁弯下身来，举起他消瘦的手，贴在她的嘴唇和胸脯上，像一个有权利爱抚他的人那样。不会有另外一位妇女会这样把所有在场的人全都忘记，而只记得他和弗洛伊两人，会对他们两人这样充满了亲切与怜悯的感情。
“弗洛伊，她的脸多么慈祥、多么善良呀！”保罗说道，“我真高兴，我又看到它了。别离开，老奶妈！待在这里吧。”
他所有的感官都敏锐起来了，他听到一个他熟悉的名字。
“是谁说‘沃尔特’的？”他环顾四周，问道，“有人说到沃尔特，他在这里吗？我非常想看到他。”
谁也没有直接回答他，但是他的父亲立刻对苏珊说，“那就喊他回来吧，让他上楼来！”在短暂的等待时间中，保罗怀着兴趣与惊异，微笑地看着他的奶妈，看到她没有忘记弗洛伊。不久，沃尔特被领进房间。他那坦诚的脸孔和态度，他那快活的眼睛，使他一直成为保罗所喜爱的人；保罗看到他时，伸出手说，“别了。”
“别了，我的孩子！”皮普钦太太急忙跑到他的床头，说道，“不是别了吧？”
保罗用沉思的脸色朝她望了一会儿，过去他在炉边的角落里就经常用这种脸色凝视着她的。“啊，是的，”他平静地说，“别了！亲爱的沃尔特，别了！”他把头转向沃尔特站着的地方，再次伸出手。“爸爸在哪里？”
这些话还没有说出口来，他就感觉到了他父亲贴住他脸颊时的呼吸。
“别忘记沃尔特，亲爱的爸爸，”他望着他的脸，低声说道，“别忘记沃尔特。我喜欢沃尔特！”那只虚弱的手在空中挥动着，仿佛它再一次向沃尔特喊道，“别了！”
“现在把我放下来躺着，”他说，“弗洛伊，走来挨近我，让我看着你！”
姐姐和弟弟伸出胳膊互相拥抱着。金黄色的阳光射进房间，射到他们紧紧抱在一起的身上。
“河水在绿色的河岸与芦苇中间流得多么快呀！弗洛伊！但是它离海很近了。我听到了海浪的声音！它们老是说着这样的话！”
接着，他告诉她，小船在河流上漂动，正在向他催眠。现在河岸多么葱翠，上面长着的花朵是多么鲜艳，芦苇是多么高！现在小船已经驶进海里了，但它仍旧继续平稳地向前滑行着。现在海岸出现在他前面。谁站在岸上？——他像平时祈祷时那样合着双手。他并没有把双手合拢。
“妈妈像你，弗洛伊。我从你的脸孔中认出了她！但请告诉他们，学校里楼梯上的那幅圣像没有充分表现出神圣的气概。我走的时候，他头上的灵光正为我照耀着道路！”
墙上金黄色的涟漪又重新在荡漾，房间里没有别的在动。那古老而又古老的先例啊！随着我们有了最初的衣服，这先例就已创立了，它将永不改变地延续下去，直到我们的族类走完了他们的旅程为止，到那时辽阔的苍穹就像一幅卷轴似地收卷了起来，那古老而又古老的先例——死亡啊！
啊，凡是看见的人都要感谢上帝，为了那更为古老的先例——永生！天使般的孩子们啊，当湍急的河流运载着我们漂向海洋去的时候，请别那样疏远冷漠地看着我们吧！
Chapter 17
Captain Cuttle does a little Business for the Young People
 
Captain Cuttle, in the exercise of that surprising talent for deep-laid and unfathomable scheming, with which (as is not unusual in men of transparent simplicity) he sincerely believed himself to be endowed by nature, had gone to Mr Dombey's house on the eventful Sunday, winking all the way as a vent for his superfluous sagacity, and had presented himself in the full lustre of the ankle-jacks before the eyes of Towlinson. Hearing from that individual, to his great concern, of the impending calamity, Captain Cuttle, in his delicacy, sheered off again confounded; merely handing in the nosegay as a small mark of his solicitude, and leaving his respectful compliments for the family in general, which he accompanied with an expression of his hope that they would lay their heads well to the wind under existing circumstances, and a friendly intimation that he would 'look up again' to-morrow.
The Captain's compliments were never heard of any more. The Captain's nosegay, after lying in the hall all night, was swept into the dust-bin next morning; and the Captain's sly arrangement, involved in one catastrophe with greater hopes and loftier designs, was crushed to pieces. So, when an avalanche bears down a mountain-forest, twigs and bushes suffer with the trees, and all perish together.
When Walter returned home on the Sunday evening from his long walk, and its memorable close, he was too much occupied at first by the tidings he had to give them, and by the emotions naturally awakened in his breast by the scene through which he had passed, to observe either that his Uncle was evidently unacquainted with the intelligence the Captain had undertaken to impart, or that the Captain made signals with his hook, warning him to avoid the subject. Not that the Captain's signals were calculated to have proved very comprehensible, however attentively observed; for, like those Chinese sages who are said in their conferences to write certain learned words in the air that are wholly impossible of pronunciation, the Captain made such waves and flourishes as nobody without a previous knowledge of his mystery, would have been at all likely to understand.
Captain Cuttle, however, becoming cognisant of what had happened, relinquished these attempts, as he perceived the slender chance that now existed of his being able to obtain a little easy chat with Mr Dombey before the period of Walter's departure. But in admitting to himself, with a disappointed and crestfallen countenance, that Sol Gills must be told, and that Walter must go - taking the case for the present as he found it, and not having it enlightened or improved beforehand by the knowing management of a friend - the Captain still felt an unabated confidence that he, Ned Cuttle, was the man for Mr Dombey; and that, to set Walter's fortunes quite square, nothing was wanted but that they two should come together. For the Captain never could forget how well he and Mr Dombey had got on at Brighton; with what nicety each of them had put in a word when it was wanted; how exactly they had taken one another's measure; nor how Ned Cuttle had pointed out that resources in the first extremity, and had brought the interview to the desired termination. On all these grounds the Captain soothed himself with thinking that though Ned Cuttle was forced by the pressure of events to 'stand by' almost useless for the present, Ned would fetch up with a wet sail in good time, and carry all before him.
Under the influence of this good-natured delusion, Captain Cuttle even went so far as to revolve in his own bosom, while he sat looking at Walter and listening with a tear on his shirt-collar to what he related, whether it might not be at once genteel and politic to give Mr Dombey a verbal invitation, whenever they should meet, to come and cut his mutton in Brig Place on some day of his own naming, and enter on the question of his young friend's prospects over a social glass. But the uncertain temper of Mrs MacStinger, and the possibility of her setting up her rest in the passage during such an entertainment, and there delivering some homily of an uncomplimentary nature, operated as a check on the Captain's hospitable thoughts, and rendered him timid of giving them encouragement.
One fact was quite clear to the Captain, as Walter, sitting thoughtfully over his untasted dinner, dwelt on all that had happened; namely, that however Walter's modesty might stand in the way of his perceiving it himself, he was, as one might say, a member of Mr Dombey's family. He had been, in his own person, connected with the incident he so pathetically described; he had been by name remembered and commended in close association with it; and his fortunes must have a particular interest in his employer's eyes. If the Captain had any lurking doubt whatever of his own conclusions, he had not the least doubt that they were good conclusions for the peace of mind of the Instrument-maker. Therefore he availed himself of so favourable a moment for breaking the West Indian intelligence to his friend, as a piece of extraordinary preferment; declaring that for his part he would freely give a hundred thousand pounds (if he had it) for Walter's gain in the long-run, and that he had no doubt such an investment would yield a handsome premium.
Solomon Gills was at first stunned by the communication, which fell upon the little back-parlour like a thunderbolt, and tore up the hearth savagely. But the Captain flashed such golden prospects before his dim sight: hinted so mysteriously at 'Whittingtonian consequences; laid such emphasis on what Walter had just now told them: and appealed to it so confidently as a corroboration of his predictions, and a great advance towards the realisation of the romantic legend of Lovely Peg: that he bewildered the old man. Walter, for his part, feigned to be so full of hope and ardour, and so sure of coming home again soon, and backed up the Captain with such expressive shakings of his head and rubbings of his hands, that Solomon, looking first at him then at Captain Cuttle, began to think he ought to be transported with joy.
'But I'm behind the time, you understand,' he observed in apology, passing his hand nervously down the whole row of bright buttons on his coat, and then up again, as if they were beads and he were telling them twice over: 'and I would rather have my dear boy here. It's an old-fashioned notion, I daresay. He was always fond of the sea He's' - and he looked wistfully at Walter - 'he's glad to go.'
'Uncle Sol!' cried Walter, quickly, 'if you say that, I won't go. No, Captain Cuttle, I won't. If my Uncle thinks I could be glad to leave him, though I was going to be made Governor of all the Islands in the West Indies, that's enough. I'm a fixture.'
'Wal'r, my lad,' said the Captain. 'Steady! Sol Gills, take an observation of your nevy.
Following with his eyes the majestic action of the Captain's hook, the old man looked at Walter.
'Here is a certain craft,' said the Captain, with a magnificent sense of the allegory into which he was soaring, 'a-going to put out on a certain voyage. What name is wrote upon that craft indelibly? Is it The Gay? or,' said the Captain, raising his voice as much as to say, observe the point of this, 'is it The Gills?'
'Ned,' said the old man, drawing Walter to his side, and taking his arm tenderly through his, 'I know. I know. Of course I know that Wally considers me more than himself always. That's in my mind. When I say he is glad to go, I mean I hope he is. Eh? look you, Ned and you too, Wally, my dear, this is new and unexpected to me; and I'm afraid my being behind the time, and poor, is at the bottom of it. Is it really good fortune for him, do you tell me, now?' said the old man, looking anxiously from one to the other. 'Really and truly? Is it? I can reconcile myself to almost anything that advances Wally, but I won't have Wally putting himself at any disadvantage for me, or keeping anything from me. You, Ned Cuttle!' said the old man, fastening on the Captain, to the manifest confusion of that diplomatist; 'are you dealing plainly by your old friend? Speak out, Ned Cuttle. Is there anything behind? Ought he to go? How do you know it first, and why?'
As it was a contest of affection and self-denial, Walter struck in with infinite effect, to the Captain's relief; and between them they tolerably reconciled old Sol Gills, by continued talking, to the project; or rather so confused him, that nothing, not even the pain of separation, was distinctly clear to his mind.
He had not much time to balance the matter; for on the very next day, Walter received from Mr Carker the Manager, the necessary credentials for his passage and outfit, together with the information that the Son and Heir would sail in a fortnight, or within a day or two afterwards at latest. In the hurry of preparation: which Walter purposely enhanced as much as possible: the old man lost what little selfpossession he ever had; and so the time of departure drew on rapidly.
The Captain, who did not fail to make himself acquainted with all that passed, through inquiries of Walter from day to day, found the time still tending on towards his going away, without any occasion offering itself, or seeming likely to offer itself, for a better understanding of his position. It was after much consideration of this fact, and much pondering over such an unfortunate combination of circumstances, that a bright idea occurred to the Captain. Suppose he made a call on Mr Carker, and tried to find out from him how the land really lay!
Captain Cuttle liked this idea very much. It came upon him in a moment of inspiration, as he was smoking an early pipe in Brig Place after breakfast; and it was worthy of the tobacco. It would quiet his conscience, which was an honest one, and was made a little uneasy by what Walter had confided to him, and what Sol Gills had said; and it would be a deep, shrewd act of friendship. He would sound Mr Carker carefully, and say much or little, just as he read that gentleman's character, and discovered that they got on well together or the reverse.
Accordingly, without the fear of Walter before his eyes (who he knew was at home packing), Captain Cuttle again assumed his ankle-jacks and mourning brooch, and issued forth on this second expedition. He purchased no propitiatory nosegay on the present occasion, as he was going to a place of business; but he put a small sunflower in his button-hole to give himself an agreeable relish of the country; and with this, and the knobby stick, and the glazed hat, bore down upon the offices of Dombey and Son.
After taking a glass of warm rum-and-water at a tavern close by, to collect his thoughts, the Captain made a rush down the court, lest its good effects should evaporate, and appeared suddenly to Mr Perch.
'Matey,' said the Captain, in persuasive accents. 'One of your Governors is named Carker.' Mr Perch admitted it; but gave him to understand, as in official duty bound, that all his Governors were engaged, and never expected to be disengaged any more.
'Look'ee here, mate,' said the Captain in his ear; 'my name's Cap'en Cuttle.'
The Captain would have hooked Perch gently to him, but Mr Perch eluded the attempt; not so much in design, as in starting at the sudden thought that such a weapon unexpectedly exhibited to Mrs Perch might, in her then condition, be destructive to that lady's hopes.
'If you'll be so good as just report Cap'en Cuttle here, when you get a chance,' said the Captain, 'I'll wait.'
Saying which, the Captain took his seat on Mr Perch's bracket, and drawing out his handkerchief from the crown of the glazed hat which he jammed between his knees (without injury to its shape, for nothing human could bend it), rubbed his head well all over, and appeared refreshed. He subsequently arranged his hair with his hook, and sat looking round the office, contemplating the clerks with a serene respect.
The Captain's equanimity was so impenetrable, and he was altogether so mysterious a being, that Perch the messenger was daunted.
'What name was it you said?' asked Mr Perch, bending down over him as he sat on the bracket.
'Cap'en,' in a deep hoarse whisper.
'Yes,' said Mr Perch, keeping time with his head.
'Cuttle.'
'Oh!' said Mr Perch, in the same tone, for he caught it, and couldn't help it; the Captain, in his diplomacy, was so impressive. 'I'll see if he's disengaged now. I don't know. Perhaps he may be for a minute.'
'Ay, ay, my lad, I won't detain him longer than a minute,' said the Captain, nodding with all the weighty importance that he felt within him. Perch, soon returning, said, 'Will Captain Cuttle walk this way?'
Mr Carker the Manager, standing on the hearth-rug before the empty fireplace, which was ornamented with a castellated sheet of brown paper, looked at the Captain as he came in, with no very special encouragement.
'Mr Carker?' said Captain Cuttle.
'I believe so,' said Mr Carker, showing all his teeth.
The Captain liked his answering with a smile; it looked pleasant. 'You see,' began the Captain, rolling his eyes slowly round the little room, and taking in as much of it as his shirt-collar permitted; 'I'm a seafaring man myself, Mr Carker, and Wal'r, as is on your books here, is almost a son of mine.'
'Walter Gay?' said Mr Carker, showing all his teeth again.
'Wal'r Gay it is,' replied the Captain, 'right!' The Captain's manner expressed a warm approval of Mr Carker's quickness of perception. 'I'm a intimate friend of his and his Uncle's. Perhaps,' said the Captain, 'you may have heard your head Governor mention my name? - Captain Cuttle.'
'No!' said Mr Carker, with a still wider demonstration than before.
'Well,' resumed the Captain, 'I've the pleasure of his acquaintance. I waited upon him down on the Sussex coast there, with my young friend Wal'r, when - in short, when there was a little accommodation wanted.' The Captain nodded his head in a manner that was at once comfortable, easy, and expressive. 'You remember, I daresay?'
'I think,' said Mr Carker, 'I had the honour of arranging the business.'
'To be sure!' returned the Captain. 'Right again! you had. Now I've took the liberty of coming here -
'Won't you sit down?' said Mr Carker, smiling.
'Thank'ee,' returned the Captain, availing himself of the offer. 'A man does get more way upon himself, perhaps, in his conversation, when he sits down. Won't you take a cheer yourself?'
'No thank you,' said the Manager, standing, perhaps from the force of winter habit, with his back against the chimney-piece, and looking down upon the Captain with an eye in every tooth and gum. 'You have taken the liberty, you were going to say - though it's none - '
'Thank'ee kindly, my lad,' returned the Captain: 'of coming here, on account of my friend Wal'r. Sol Gills, his Uncle, is a man of science, and in science he may be considered a clipper; but he ain't what I should altogether call a able seaman - not man of practice. Wal'r is as trim a lad as ever stepped; but he's a little down by the head in one respect, and that is, modesty. Now what I should wish to put to you,' said the Captain, lowering his voice, and speaking in a kind of confidential growl, 'in a friendly way, entirely between you and me, and for my own private reckoning, 'till your head Governor has wore round a bit, and I can come alongside of him, is this - Is everything right and comfortable here, and is Wal'r out'ard bound with a pretty fair wind?'
'What do you think now, Captain Cuttle?' returned Carker, gathering up his skirts and settling himself in his position. 'You are a practical man; what do you think?'
The acuteness and the significance of the Captain's eye as he cocked it in reply, no words short of those unutterable Chinese words before referred to could describe.
'Come!' said the Captain, unspeakably encouraged, 'what do you say? Am I right or wrong?'
So much had the Captain expressed in his eye, emboldened and incited by Mr Carker's smiling urbanity, that he felt himself in as fair a condition to put the question, as if he had expressed his sentiments with the utmost elaboration.
'Right,' said Mr Carker, 'I have no doubt.'
'Out'ard bound with fair weather, then, I say,' cried Captain Cuttle.
Mr Carker smiled assent.
'Wind right astarn, and plenty of it,' pursued the Captain.
Mr Carker smiled assent again.
'Ay, ay!' said Captain Cuttle, greatly relieved and pleased. 'I know'd how she headed, well enough; I told Wal'r so. Thank'ee, thank'ee.'
'Gay has brilliant prospects,' observed Mr Carker, stretching his mouth wider yet: 'all the world before him.'
'All the world and his wife too, as the saying is,' returned the delighted Captain.
At the word 'wife' (which he had uttered without design), the Captain stopped, cocked his eye again, and putting the glazed hat on the top of the knobby stick, gave it a twirl, and looked sideways at his always smiling friend.
'I'd bet a gill of old Jamaica,' said the Captain, eyeing him attentively, 'that I know what you're a smiling at.'
Mr Carker took his cue, and smiled the more.
'It goes no farther?' said the Captain, making a poke at the door with the knobby stick to assure himself that it was shut.
'Not an inch,' said Mr Carker.
'You're thinking of a capital F perhaps?' said the Captain.
Mr Carker didn't deny it.
'Anything about a L,' said the Captain, 'or a O?'
Mr Carker still smiled.
'Am I right, again?' inquired the Captain in a whisper, with the scarlet circle on his forehead swelling in his triumphant joy.
Mr Carker, in reply, still smiling, and now nodding assent, Captain Cuttle rose and squeezed him by the hand, assuring him, warmly, that they were on the same tack, and that as for him (Cuttle) he had laid his course that way all along. 'He know'd her first,' said the Captain, with all the secrecy and gravity that the subject demanded, 'in an uncommon manner - you remember his finding her in the street when she was a'most a babby - he has liked her ever since, and she him, as much as two youngsters can. We've always said, Sol Gills and me, that they was cut out for each other.'
A cat, or a monkey, or a hyena, or a death's-head, could not have shown the Captain more teeth at one time, than Mr Carker showed him at this period of their interview.
'There's a general indraught that way,' observed the happy Captain. 'Wind and water sets in that direction, you see. Look at his being present t'other day!'
'Most favourable to his hopes,' said Mr Carker.
'Look at his being towed along in the wake of that day!' pursued the Captain. 'Why what can cut him adrift now?'
'Nothing,' replied Mr Carker.
'You're right again,' returned the Captain, giving his hand another squeeze. 'Nothing it is. So! steady! There's a son gone: pretty little creetur. Ain't there?'
'Yes, there's a son gone,' said the acquiescent Carker.
'Pass the word, and there's another ready for you,' quoth the Captain. 'Nevy of a scientific Uncle! Nevy of Sol Gills! Wal'r! Wal'r, as is already in your business! And' - said the Captain, rising gradually to a quotation he was preparing for a final burst, 'who - comes from Sol Gills's daily, to your business, and your buzzums.' The Captain's complacency as he gently jogged Mr Carker with his elbow, on concluding each of the foregoing short sentences, could be surpassed by nothing but the exultation with which he fell back and eyed him when he had finished this brilliant display of eloquence and sagacity; his great blue waistcoat heaving with the throes of such a masterpiece, and his nose in a state of violent inflammation from the same cause.
'Am I right?' said the Captain.
'Captain Cuttle,' said Mr Carker, bending down at the knees, for a moment, in an odd manner, as if he were falling together to hug the whole of himself at once, 'your views in reference to Walter Gay are thoroughly and accurately right. I understand that we speak together in confidence.
'Honour!' interposed the Captain. 'Not a word.'
'To him or anyone?' pursued the Manager.
Captain Cuttle frowned and shook his head.
'But merely for your own satisfaction and guidance - and guidance, of course,' repeated Mr Carker, 'with a view to your future proceedings.'
'Thank'ee kindly, I am sure,' said the Captain, listening with great attention.
'I have no hesitation in saying, that's the fact. You have hit the probabilities exactly.'
'And with regard to your head Governor,' said the Captain, 'why an interview had better come about nat'ral between us. There's time enough.'
Mr Carker, with his mouth from ear to ear, repeated, 'Time enough.' Not articulating the words, but bowing his head affably, and forming them with his tongue and lips.
'And as I know - it's what I always said- that Wal'r's in a way to make his fortune,' said the Captain.
'To make his fortune,' Mr Carker repeated, in the same dumb manner.
'And as Wal'r's going on this little voyage is, as I may say, in his day's work, and a part of his general expectations here,' said the Captain.
'Of his general expectations here,' assented Mr Carker, dumbly as before.
'Why, so long as I know that,' pursued the Captain, 'there's no hurry, and my mind's at ease.
Mr Carker still blandly assenting in the same voiceless manner, Captain Cuttle was strongly confirmed in his opinion that he was one of the most agreeable men he had ever met, and that even Mr Dombey might improve himself on such a model. With great heartiness, therefore, the Captain once again extended his enormous hand (not unlike an old block in colour), and gave him a grip that left upon his smoother flesh a proof impression of the chinks and crevices with which the Captain's palm was liberally tattooed.
'Farewell!' said the Captain. 'I ain't a man of many words, but I take it very kind of you to be so friendly, and above-board. You'll excuse me if I've been at all intruding, will you?' said the Captain.
'Not at all,' returned the other.
'Thank'ee. My berth ain't very roomy,' said the Captain, turning back again, 'but it's tolerably snug; and if you was to find yourself near Brig Place, number nine, at any time - will you make a note of it? - and would come upstairs, without minding what was said by the person at the door, I should be proud to see you.
With that hospitable invitation, the Captain said 'Good day!' and walked out and shut the door; leaving Mr Carker still reclining against the chimney-piece. In whose sly look and watchful manner; in whose false mouth, stretched but not laughing; in whose spotless cravat and very whiskers; even in whose silent passing of his soft hand over his white linen and his smooth face; there was something desperately cat-like.
The unconscious Captain walked out in a state of self-glorification that imparted quite a new cut to the broad blue suit. 'Stand by, Ned!' said the Captain to himself. 'You've done a little business for the youngsters today, my lad!'
In his exultation, and in his familiarity, present and prospective, with the House, the Captain, when he reached the outer office, could not refrain from rallying Mr Perch a little, and asking him whether he thought everybody was still engaged. But not to be bitter on a man who had done his duty, the Captain whispered in his ear, that if he felt disposed for a glass of rum-and-water, and would follow, he would be happy to bestow the same upon him.
Before leaving the premises, the Captain, somewhat to the astonishment of the clerks, looked round from a central point of view, and took a general survey of the officers part and parcel of a project in which his young friend was nearly interested. The strong-room excited his especial admiration; but, that he might not appear too particular, he limited himself to an approving glance, and, with a graceful recognition of the clerks as a body, that was full of politeness and patronage, passed out into the court. Being promptly joined by Mr Perch, he conveyed that gentleman to the tavern, and fulfilled his pledge - hastily, for Perch's time was precious.
'I'll give you for a toast,' said the Captain, 'Wal'r!'
'Who?' submitted Mr Perch.
'Wal'r!' repeated the Captain, in a voice of thunder.
Mr Perch, who seemed to remember having heard in infancy that there was once a poet of that name, made no objection; but he was much astonished at the Captain's coming into the City to propose a poet; indeed, if he had proposed to put a poet's statue up - say Shakespeare's for example - in a civic thoroughfare, he could hardly have done a greater outrage to Mr Perch's experience. On the whole, he was such a mysterious and incomprehensible character, that Mr Perch decided not to mention him to Mrs Perch at all, in case of giving rise to any disagreeable consequences.
Mysterious and incomprehensible, the Captain, with that lively sense upon him of having done a little business for the youngsters, remained all day, even to his most intimate friends; and but that Walter attributed his winks and grins, and other such pantomimic reliefs of himself, to his satisfaction in the success of their innocent deception upon old Sol Gills, he would assuredly have betrayed himself before night. As it was, however, he kept his own secret; and went home late from the Instrument-maker's house, wearing the glazed hat so much on one side, and carrying such a beaming expression in his eyes, that Mrs MacStinger (who might have been brought up at Doctor Blimber's, she was such a Roman matron) fortified herself, at the first glimpse of him, behind the open street door, and refused to come out to the contemplation of her blessed infants, until he was securely lodged in his own room.
卡特尔船长运用他那惊人的、他真心自信是天赋的才能（就一个无比纯朴的人来说，这倒并非异乎寻常），制订出那个深奥莫测的计划，在那个多事的星期天，前往董贝先生的公馆；他一路上一直眨巴着眼睛，让他那横溢的才智有一个排泄的孔道；他脚上穿着那双光耀夺目的短靴，就这样出现在托林森的眼前。卡特尔船长从那人那里听到了那即将来临的灾难，十分忧虑；由于他一向处事审慎，所以就惊慌失色地急忙“改变航向”，离开那里，而只递进那个花束，表示他关怀的一点小小心意，还请托林森向全家人转达他的敬意和问候，希望他们在当前的情况下坚强地顶住风，最后友好地暗示，他明天将“再来看看”。
船长的问候再也没有被人听到。船长的花束在前厅里搁了一夜，第二天早晨就被扫进了垃圾箱；船长神机妙算的安排，连同那更为伟大的希望和更为崇高的计划一道卷进了这场奇灾大祸，如今已被彻底粉碎。因此，当雪崩冲毁山间的森林时，细枝和灌木也随同大树遭殃，全都荡然无存。
沃尔特经过长距离的游逛和最后随着发生的那些难忘的事情之后，星期天晚上回到家里时，最初一心一意想着他必须告诉他们的消息，并彻底沉浸在刚才经历的情景在他心中自然唤起的情感之中，所以既没有注意到他舅舅显然还不知道船长答应通知的信息，也没有注意到船长用钩子向他打了个信号，提醒他不要提起这个话题。不过，不论如何聚精会神地观察，船长的信号也不是很容易理解的；因为就像中国的圣人据说在开会时曾经写过一些完全不能发音的艰涩高深的词语一样，船长那些龙飞凤舞般的指指划划，谁要是事先不了解他的秘密，那是根本不可能看懂的。
可是船长在知道所发生的事情之后，放弃了这些打算，因为他看到，在沃尔特出发之前，现在很少有机会能跟董贝先生无拘无束地随意交谈。不过，船长尽管带着灰心失望、垂头丧气的神色暗自承认，所尔•吉尔斯一定得知道这件事情，沃尔特一定得走——情况暂且只能听凭和他当初接触到的时候一样，并没有因为有朋友明智地进行调停，而使事实真相得以澄清或使境遇有所改善——，但他仍毫不动摇地相信，他内德•卡特尔是与董贝先生磋商的合适人物，只要他们两人走到一起，就可以十分妥善地安排沃尔特的命运。因为船长永远不能忘记，他与董贝先生在布赖顿相处得很好，他们每人都在合适的时候恰如其分地说出了需要说的话；他们曾经准确地判断了彼此的为人；他也不会忘记他内德•卡特尔怎样在陷于绝境时指出这条出路并使会晤导向合乎要求的结局。船长根据这些理由安慰自己：内德•卡特尔目前虽然由于情势所逼，暂且只好无所事事地袖手旁观，但有朝一日，时机一到，他内德总能扬起船帆，胜利地向前航行的。
在这种出自善意的误解的影响下，卡特尔船长坐在那里，看着沃尔特，听着他叙述，同时在衬衫领子上掉下一颗眼泪的时候，心中甚至在转悠着这样的念头：不论哪一天他遇见董贝先生时，他就口头邀请他，在他指定的任何一天，到布里格广场来品尝品尝羊肉，然后在碰杯祝酒时再谈谈他年轻朋友的前途问题——这样做是不是既符合礼仪而又富于策略？但是麦克斯适杰太太的脾气难以捉摸，在他举行宴请时她可能伸开四肢，躺卧在走廊里，含沙带刺地说起教来；这些顾虑在船长好客的想法上泼上一瓢冷水，使他胆怯心灰。
当沃尔特沉思地坐在餐桌前面没有吃饭，心中一直细想着所发生的一切时，在船长看来，有一个事实是很清楚的，就是：尽管沃尔特本人由于谦虚，还认识不到这一点，但他却可以说是董贝先生家庭中的一员了。他本人曾亲自跟他十分感伤地叙述的事件联系在一起；就在这一个事件发生的过程当中，他们记起了他的名字，并赞扬他；他的老板对他一定会另眼相看，对他的前途一定会格外关心的。如果说船长对他自己的结论暗中还有什么怀疑的话，那么他毫不怀疑，这些结论对安定仪器制造商的心情是十分有利的。因此他就利用了这样一个大好时机，把去西印度群岛的消息作为一件破格提升的待遇，透露给他的老朋友；声称如果他有钱的话，那么他就将慷慨解囊，为沃尔持的长远利益拿出十万英镑；他相信这一笔投资一定会产生可观的赢利。
所罗门•吉尔斯听到这个消息，起初晕头转向，目瞪口呆；它像晴天霹雳般地打进了小小的后客厅，粗暴地破坏了炉边安宁的气氛。可是船长在他昏花的眼睛前面展示出一幅黄金般灿烂的前景，十分神秘地暗示惠廷顿式的前程；对沃尔特刚刚告诉他们的事情大事宣扬它的重要意义，满怀信心地把它用来说明他的预言已开始得到证实，在实现可爱的佩格姑娘的传说方面已迈出了重大的一步。——所有这一切把老人弄得心迷意乱，糊里糊涂。沃尔特也假装充满了希望和热忱，确信他不久就会回来，同时为了支持船长，他富于表情地摇晃着脑袋，搓着手，因此所罗门起初望望他，然后又望望卡特尔船长，开始想到，他该欣喜若狂才好呢。
“可是，你们知道，我已经落在时代后面了，”他辩解地说道，一边紧张不安地用手从上到下摸着他外衣上一排发亮的钮扣，然后又从下到上摸回去，仿佛它们是念珠似的，他正把它们连数两遍；“我宁愿让我亲爱的孩子留在这里。这肯定是过时的想法了。他过去总是喜爱海，他——”他闷闷不乐地望着沃尔特说，“他高兴去。”
“所尔舅舅！”沃尔特迅速地喊道，“如果你这样说的话，那么我就•不•想去了。是的，卡特尔船长，我不想去了。如果舅舅以为我能高高兴兴地离开他的话（即使我就要走马上任，去当西印度群岛的总督），那么这句话就足够了。我将寸步不离地守在这里。”
“沃尔，我的孩子，”船长说，“别着急！所尔•吉尔斯，请看看您的外甥吧！”
船长的钩子威严地移动着，老人的眼睛跟随着它，看到了沃尔特。
“有一条船就要出航，”船长文思大发，举了一个动人的比喻，“要在这条船上不可磨灭地写上一个什么名字呢？是写盖伊号呢？还是，”船长提高了声音，提醒大家注意，“还是写吉尔斯号呢？”
“内德，”老人把沃尔特拉到他的身旁，亲切地挽着他的胳膊，说道，“我知道。我知道。我知道沃尔特总是更多地考虑我，而很少考虑他自己。这一点我心里是明白的。我说他高兴去，我的意思是说，我希望他高兴去。嗯，内德，你听着，还有沃利，亲爱的，你也听着，这是我意想不到的新消息；我怕我落在时代的后面，而且贫穷可怜；这就是根本的原因。现在，请你们告诉我，这对他是不是真的是个好运气？”老人忧虑不安地从这一位望到另一位，说道，“千真万确是那样吗？如果这对沃利的前程真是有利的话，那么我自己几乎什么都能迁就，但是我不愿意沃利为我而牺牲自己或者对我隐瞒什么。你，内德•卡特尔”！老人眼睛直瞪着船长，瞪得这位外交家局促不安，“你对你的老朋友老实吗？说出来，内德•卡特尔背后有什么瞒着我？他该不该去？你怎么先知道的，为什么能先知道？”
由于这是一场骨肉情谊与自我牺牲的竞赛，船长感到宽慰的是，沃尔特这时进来插话，取得了无限的效果。他们两人一刻不停地交谈着，使老所尔•吉尔斯多少安下心来；或者说得确切些，把他弄得稀里糊涂，一切都不明白，甚至连离别的痛苦他也不能清楚地感觉到了。
他没有多少时间来衡量这件事情，因为第二天，沃尔特就从经理卡克先生那里接到有关出发和服装用品的必要指令，同时还得悉，“儿子和继承人”号将在两星期或最迟晚一、两天内开航。沃尔特故意把准备工作搞得匆匆忙忙，在这匆忙的过程中，老人仅有的一点冷静也失去了，因此启程的日期迅速地就临近了。
船长每天都向沃尔特打听，所以知道发生的一切情形；他觉得时间一天天接近沃尔特动身的日子，却没有出现或看来可能出现任何情况可以更好地了解沃尔特的处境。船长对这个事情进行了反复的考虑，对不幸凑合在一起的一些情况进行了许多思索之后，心中忽然出现一个巧妙的主意。不妨去拜访一下卡克先生，设法从他那里了解一下，海岸究竟是在哪个方向？
卡特尔船长很喜欢这个主意，它是他在布里格广场吃过早饭以后抽第一斗烟时灵机一动的一刹那中突然来到他的头脑中的；抽这斗烟很值得。他的良心是诚实的，沃尔特向他吐露的内情以及所尔•吉尔斯所说的话曾使他稍感不安，这次访问将会使他的良心安宁下来；而且这将是一个寓意深长，精明高超的友好行动。他将谨慎小心地试探卡克先生，当他看清这位先生的性格，认定他们是否能融洽相处之后再决定多谈或少谈。
因此，不怕遇见沃尔特（他知道他在家里忙着收拾行李），卡特尔船长重新穿上短靴，别上哀悼友人的胸针，走上他的第二次征途。这次他没有买送礼的花束，因为他是到一个办公的地方去；但是他在钮扣孔里插了一朵小小的向日葵花，身上发出了令人愉快的乡村的清香，他就这样拿着那根多节的手杖，戴着上了光的帽子，动身到董贝父子公司去了。
船长在附近的小酒店喝了一杯温暖的、搀水的朗姆酒，定神想想，然后快步跑过庭院，唯恐酒的良好效果就要蒸发掉似的，最后突然出现在珀奇先生的面前。
“老弟，”船长用诱导性的语气说道，“您们公司的头头里有一位是姓卡克的。”
珀奇先生承认这一点，但他有责任让他了解，公司的头头们都很忙，别指望他们能抽出时间来。
“老弟，告诉您，”船长凑着他的耳朵说道，“我是卡特尔船长。”
船长本想用钩子把珀奇先生轻轻地拉到身旁，但是珀奇先生避开了；他倒不是故意逃避，而主要是他突然想到，这样一种武器出乎意外地出现在珀奇太太眼前，在她当时的情况下，是很可能会断送掉她的美好希望的。①
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①指珀奇太太见了可能受惊流产。
“劳驾您有机会进去通报一声，卡特尔船长来了，”卡特尔船长说道，“我在这里等。”
船长说完话，就坐在珀奇先生的托架上，从那顶上了光的帽子（他把它夹在两个膝盖中间，并没有损坏它的形状，因为不论什么人类的东西都不能使它弯曲）顶端掏出一块手绢，把头好好地擦了一遍，看上去神清气爽。然后他用钩子梳梳头发，安祥沉着地坐在那里，环视办公室四处，并看着那些职员们。
船长泰然自若的态度令人高深莫测，而他本人又是那么一位神秘的人物，因此信差珀奇被吓唬住了。
“您刚才说您姓什么？”珀奇先生向坐在托架上的船长欠身问道。
“我是船长，”他用低沉、嘶哑的低声说道。
“是，”珀奇先生急忙点头道。
“姓卡特尔。”
“哦！”珀奇先生用同样的声调说道，因为他听到了，也不能不听到；船长的外交风度给他留下了很深刻的印象。“我去看看他现在是不是有空，我不知道。也许他可以抽出一分钟。”
“行，行，老弟，我耽误他的时间不会超过一分钟，”船长怀着极大的自尊心，点点头，说道。珀奇不一会儿就回来了，说道，“请卡特尔船长往这边走好吗？”
经理卡克先生站在没有生火的、用牛皮纸城形图案装饰着的壁炉前面的地毯上，以不特别欢迎的眼光看着走进的船长。
“是卡克先生吗？”船长问道。
“我想是的，”卡克先生露出所有的牙齿，说道。
船长对他微笑着回答感到高兴，这看来是令人愉快的。
“您知道，”船长开始说道，一边慢慢地转着眼睛环视着这间小房间，把他衬衫领子没有挡住的地方都看在眼里。“我本人是个航海人员，卡克先生，列在你们职员名册上的沃尔可以说是我的儿子。”
“是指沃尔特•盖伊吗？”卡克先生又露出所有的牙齿说道。
“是沃尔•盖伊，”船长回答，“完全正确！”船长在神态中对卡克先生灵敏的理解力表示热烈赞扬。“我是他和他舅舅的亲密朋友。也许，”船长说，“您曾听到你们公司老板提起过我的名字吧？——卡特尔船长。”
“没有，”卡克先生比先前更宽阔地露出他的牙齿说。“唔，”船长继续说，“我有幸跟他认识。我跟我年轻的朋友沃尔一道，在萨塞克斯①海边拜访过他，当时——总之，当时需要请他通融小小一笔资金。”船长点点头，神态既愉快，从容，又富于表情。“我想，您记得吧？”
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①萨塞克斯（Sussex）：英格兰南部的郡，布赖顿就在这郡内。
“我想，”卡克先生说，“我曾有幸安排过这件事情。”
“不错！”船长答道，“又完全正确！是您安排的。现在我冒昧地到这里来——”
“您坐下好吗？”卡克微笑着说。
“谢谢您，”船长接受了建议，回答道，“坐下来谈话也许会轻松一些。您自己也在椅子上坐下好吗？”
“不，谢谢您，”经理说道；也许是由于冬天养成的习惯，他还继续站着；他的背靠着壁炉架，并往下望着船长，好像他每个牙齿和牙床中都长着一只眼睛似的。“您刚才说，您冒昧地——其实并没有什么冒昧。”
“非常感谢您，我的朋友，”船长回答道，“我是为了我的朋友沃尔冒昧地到这里来的，他的舅舅所尔•吉尔斯是一位搞科学的人，在科学上他可以算得上是一只快速帆船。可是，我不能把他称为能干的船员——他不是个注重实际的人。沃尔是个难得的棒小伙子；不过他也有缺点，那就是谦虚。现在，在你们老板心情没有稍稍恢复，我可以来跟他一起交谈之前，”船长压低了声音，以极为信任的低沉的粗声说道，“我希望以友好的方式，完全在您与我之间，也为了我个人有个正确的估量，向您提个问题，就是：这里是不是一切都很完善妥贴，沃尔出航是否顺风？”
“您现在怎么想，卡特尔船长？”卡克提起衣服下摆，站好姿势，回答道，“您是个注重实际的人，您怎么想呢？”
船长的眼睛向上一瞟作为回答，那眼光的锐利与意味深长，除了前面提到的不能发音的中国语言外，其他语言都不能形容。
“好啦！”船长受到难以表述的鼓舞，说道，“请您说说，我对了还是错了？”
受到了卡克先生彬彬有礼的微笑的鼓舞，船长壮了胆，在眼光中表露了十分深长的寓意；他觉得他是在很有希望的情况下提出问题的，仿佛他已用精心推敲过的言辞表达了他的感情。
“对了，”卡克先生说，“我没有怀疑。”
“那么，我说，他出航遇上很好的天气了？”卡特尔船长喊道。
卡克先生微笑着表示同意。
“风向顺利，风力很足？”船长继续问道。
卡克先生又微笑着表示同意。
“不错！不错！”卡特尔船长非常放心和满意地说道，“我早就很明白这船的航向如何。我跟沃尔特说过。谢谢您，谢谢您。”
“盖伊有光明的前途，”卡克先生的嘴张得比先前更大，说道，“整个世界都展现在他的前面。”
“就像谚语所说的，整个世界，还有他的妻子都展现在他的前面，”兴高采烈的船长回答道。
妻子这两个字船长是无意间说出来的，他说到这两个字的时候停了停，眼睛又向上一瞟，接着把上了光的帽子顶在多节的手杖上打了个转，然后斜眼看着他那老在微笑的朋友。
“我拿一及耳牙买加陈酒①打赌，”船长目不转睛地注视着他说，“我知道您笑什么。”
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①及耳，约相当于0．14升。牙买加以产糖酒闻名。
卡克先生明白他的暗示，更加高兴地微笑着。
“不再前进了？”船长问道，一边用多节的手杖往门上戳一戳，使他自己放心，门是关着的。
“一英寸也不了，”卡克先生说。
“也许您在想着一个弗字？”船长问道。
卡克先生没有否认。
“是不是跟洛字或伦字有关？”船长问。
卡克先生仍然微笑着。
“我是不是又对了？”船长低声问道，他得意扬扬，前额上都涨出了一个红圈。
卡克先生仍然微笑着回答，现在又点点头表示同意；卡特尔船长就站起来，紧握着他的手，热情洋溢地让他相信，他们是在同一个航向的航程上；至于他卡特尔，他一直都是沿着这个航向前进的。“起初，”船长谈到这个话题时，显出理所应当的秘密与庄重的神情，说道，“他是在一个很不寻常的情况下认识她的——您记得，他是在街上找到她的，当时她几乎还是个小娃娃，——从那时起，他就爱上了她，她也爱上他，他们相爱得十分热烈，就像这样两个年轻人会那样相爱一样。我们，所尔和我，经常说，他们是天造地设的一对。”
一只猫，一个猴子，一条鬣狗或者一个骷髅，也不能一下子比卡克先生在他们这次会晤期间向船长显露出更多的牙齿。
“您看，水流是向着那一边的，”乐呵呵的船长说，“风朝着那个方向吹，水朝着那个方向流。看吧，他有一天是会到那里的！”
“对他的希望极为有利，”卡克先生说道。
“看吧，有一天他会被绳子拖着前进！”船长继续说，“现在有什么能使他任意漂流的呢？”
“什么也不能了，”卡克先生回答。
“您又完全正确，”船长又一次紧握着他的手，回答道，“什么也不能了。因此！别着急！儿子已经去世了，那个可爱的小人儿。是不是？”
“是的，儿子已经去世了，”勉强顺从的卡克说道。
“你们只要发一道命令，你们就将会有另一个现成的儿子，”船长说道，“一位懂科学的舅舅的外甥！所尔•吉尔斯的外甥！沃尔！已经在你们公司工作的那个沃尔！”船长继续说道，他逐渐接近结尾最精彩的引语：“他——每天从所尔•吉尔斯家中来到你们公司，投入你们的怀抱。”
船长每讲完上面每一句短句，都用胳膊肘轻轻地推一下卡克先生，这时他那自满自得的情绪，只有当他结束这段口若悬河、才华横溢的讲话，往椅背上一靠，注视着卡克先生时那欣喜若狂的神情才能超过。他这篇杰作正在脱胎而出的时候，他的宽大的蓝色背心鼓了起来，鼻子也由于同一个原因翕动着。
“我说得对吗？”船长问道。
“卡特尔船长，”卡克先生说道，同时以一种古怪的姿态把膝盖往下弯曲了片刻，仿佛他正要倒下，同时又用力支撑住自己似的：“您关于沃尔特•盖伊的意见是完全、绝对正确的。我明白，我们是在私下里交谈知心话”。
“我以名誉发誓！”船长打断他说，“一句也不是。”
“也不是讲给他或任何人听的吗？”经理接着问道。
卡特尔船长皱着眉头，摇摇头。
“只不过是为了使您自己能心安理得并能得到指导吧，”卡克先生说道，“我说的指导，自然是指您未来的行动能得到指导。”
“我确实很感谢您，”船长很注意地听着，说道。
“我毫不迟疑地说，那是事实。您已经准确地料到了可能发生的事情。”
“至于你们公司的老板，”船长说，“我们之间的会晤最好让它自然来到吧，有的是时间。”
卡克先生咧着嘴笑着，并重复说道，“有的是时间，”他没有把这几个字清晰地发出声来，而是和蔼可亲地垂下头，舌头和嘴唇轻轻地动了动。
“我明白——正像我过去经常说的，沃尔就要发迹了。”
“就要发迹了，”卡克先生用同样无声的方式重复说道。
“沃尔这次小小的航行，我可以说，属于他日常的工作范围，也是公司对他前程安排的一部分。”船长说。
“对他前程安排的一部分，”卡克先生同先前一样哑口无声。
“是呀，只要我了解这一点，”船长继续说道，“那就不必着急，我也可以放心了。”
卡克先生仍旧用同样无声的方式，彬彬有礼地表示同意，因此卡特尔船长坚信不疑，在他认识的人中，他是最容易和好相处的人当中的一位；甚至董贝先生以他为榜样，也会对自己的立身处世有所裨益。因此，船长很亲切地再一次伸出他的像老木料般的大手，给他紧紧一握，在他那比较光滑的皮肉上留下了船长手掌上大量裂缝和皱纹的印痕。
“再见！”船长说，“我不是个讲话爱长篇大论的人，但我很感谢您这么亲切友好和光明磊落。请原谅我打搅您了。”船长说。
“那里的话，”另一位回答说。
“谢谢您。我目前居住的地方不很宽敞，”船长又转过身来说，“但还相当舒适，您不论什么时候路过布里格广场，九号——请您是不是记一下？——不管开门的人说什么，您就上楼来，我将不胜荣幸地接待您。”
船长发出这个好客的邀请之后，说了声：“再见！”走出房间，关上门，留下卡克先生仍旧背靠着壁炉架。在他的狡猾的眼光和留神戒备的姿态中，在他的伸出而不带笑的虚伪的嘴巴中，在他的毫无污迹的领带和连鬓胡子中，甚至在他伸出柔嫩的手默默无声地抚摸雪白的衬衫和光滑的脸孔的动作中，都有一些像猫一样的东西。
蒙在鼓里的船长是在自我陶醉的状态中走出来的，连他那宽大的蓝外衣也受到这种情绪的影响，产生了一副新气派。“做好准备，内德！”船长自言自语说，“你今天给年轻人做了一点事情啦，我的孩子！”
船长怀着欢欣鼓舞的心情，怀着现在和将来跟公司亲近的感情，当走到外面的办公室时，情不自禁想嘲弄一下珀奇先生，问他是不是还认为每个人都很忙碌。但是船长不想对一位克尽职责的人刻薄，就在他耳边低声说，如果他愿意跟他一起去喝一杯搀水的朗姆酒的话，那么他将乐于招待他。
船长离开办公楼之前，从一个中心点环顾四周，对公司办公室进行了全面观察；他认为这个办公室是他年轻的朋友密切关心的事业的一个不可分割的部分；他这样做，使得公司的职员们多少感到有些惊奇。金库特别引起他的羡慕，但是，为了不显得小气，他仅仅赞许地粗看了一眼；接着，他彬彬有礼，露出恩人气派，端庄得体地向全体职员欠身行礼，表示感谢；然后走向庭院。珀奇先生很快就跟了上来；他就把这位先生领进小酒店，毫不迟延地履行了他的诺言，因为珀奇的时间是宝贵的。
“我建议为沃尔的健康干杯！”船长说道。
“为谁？”珀奇先生温顺地问道。
“沃尔！”船长用雷鸣般的大声重复道。
珀奇先生似乎记得在幼年时代听人说过，从前有一位诗人是姓这个姓的①，所以没有反对。但是他很奇怪，船长为什么到城里来建议为一位诗人的健康干杯；说真的，如果他建议在城市的一条大街上建立一位诗人（比方说，莎士比亚）的塑像，那还不至于超越珀奇先生的见闻。总之。他是一位十分神秘和莫测高深的人物，因此珀奇先生决定根本不向珀奇太太谈起他，以免发生任何不愉快的后果。
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①指英国诗人埃德蒙•沃勒（EdmundWaller，公元1606—1687年）。
船长怀着他已经为年轻人做了一点事情的愉快心情，甚至对他最亲密的朋友也整天保持着神秘和莫测高深的神态。沃尔特看到他眨巴着眼睛，露着牙齿笑，以及作出使自己心情轻松的其他哑剧性动作，以为他是因为他们不怀恶意地哄骗了老所尔•吉尔斯获得成功而感到沾沾自喜；要不是这样，他肯定不到夜间就会露出马脚。可是事实上，他还是把秘密保守住了；当他很晚离开仪器制造商的房屋回家去时，他把那顶上了光的帽子歪戴在一边，眼睛流露出喜气洋洋的神色，麦克斯适杰太太（她可能是从布林伯博士的学校中教养出来的，因为她是那么像古罗马的家庭主妇）从敞开的临街的正门后面一看见他，就立刻采取了防御的姿态，没有像她那些天真可爱的幼儿们所期待的那样走出来，直到他确实已在自己的房间里安顿下来为止。
Chapter 18
Father and Daughter

There is a hush through Mr Dombey's house. Servants gliding up and down stairs rustle, but make no sound of footsteps. They talk together constantly, and sit long at meals, making much of their meat and drink, and enjoying themselves after a grim unholy fashion. Mrs Wickam, with her eyes suffused with tears, relates melancholy anecdotes; and tells them how she always said at Mrs Pipchin's that it would be so, and takes more table-ale than usual, and is very sorry but sociable. Cook's state of mind is similar. She promises a little fry for supper, and struggles about equally against her feelings and the onions. Towlinson begins to think there's a fate in it, and wants to know if anybody can tell him ofany good that ever came of living in a corner house. It seems to all of them as having happened a long time ago; though yet the child lies, calm and beautiful, upon his little bed.
After dark there come some visitors - noiseless visitors, with shoes of felt - who have been there before; and with them comes that bed of rest which is so strange a one for infant sleepers. All this time, the bereaved father has not been seen even by his attendant; for he sits in an inner corner of his own dark room when anyone is there, and never seems to move at other times, except to pace it to and fro. But in the morning it is whispered among the household that he was heard to go upstairs in the dead night, and that he stayed there - in the room - until the sun was shining.
At the offices in the City, the ground-glass windows are made more dim by shutters; and while the lighted lamps upon the desks are half extinguished by the day that wanders in, the day is half extinguished by the lamps, and an unusual gloom prevails. There is not much business done. The clerks are indisposed to work; and they make assignations to eat chops in the afternoon, and go up the river. Perch, the messenger, stays long upon his errands; and finds himself in bars of public-houses, invited thither by friends, and holding forth on the uncertainty of human affairs. He goes home to Ball's Pond earlier in the evening than usual, and treats Mrs Perch to a veal cutlet and Scotch ale. Mr Carker the Manager treats no one; neither is he treated; but alone in his own room he shows his teeth all day; and it would seem that there is something gone from Mr Carker's path - some obstacle removed - which clears his way before him.
Now the rosy children living opposite to Mr Dombey's house, peep from their nursery windows down into the street; for there are four black horses at his door, with feathers on their heads; and feathers tremble on the carriage that they draw; and these, and an array of men with scarves and staves, attract a crowd. The juggler who was going to twirl the basin, puts his loose coat on again over his fine dress; and his trudging wife, one-sided with her heavy baby in her arms, loiters to see the company come out. But closer to her dingy breast she presses her baby, when the burden that is so easily carried is borne forth; and the youngest of the rosy children at the high window opposite, needs no restraining hand to check her in her glee, when, pointing with her dimpled finger, she looks into her nurse's face, and asks 'What's that?'
And now, among the knot of servants dressed in mourning, and the weeping women, Mr Dombey passes through the hall to the other carriage that is waiting to receive him. He is not 'brought down,' these observers think, by sorrow and distress of mind. His walk is as erect, his bearing is as stiff as ever it has been. He hides his face behind no handkerchief, and looks before him. But that his face is something sunk and rigid, and is pale, it bears the same expression as of old. He takes his place within the carriage, and three other gentlemen follow. Then the grand funeral moves slowly down the street. The feathers are yet nodding in the distance, when the juggler has the basin spinning on a cane, and has the same crowd to admire it. But the juggler's wife is less alert than usual with the money-box, for a child's burial has set her thinking that perhaps the baby underneath her shabby shawl may not grow up to be a man, and wear a sky-blue fillet round his head, and salmon-coloured worsted drawers, and tumble in the mud.
The feathers wind their gloomy way along the streets, and come within the sound of a church bell. In this same church, the pretty boy received all that will soon be left of him on earth - a name. All of him that is dead, they lay there, near the perishable substance of his mother. It is well. Their ashes lie where Florence in her walks - oh lonely, lonely walks! - may pass them any day.
The service over, and the clergyman withdrawn, Mr Dombey looks round, demanding in a low voice, whether the person who has been requested to attend to receive instructions for the tablet, is there?
Someone comes forward, and says 'Yes.'
Mr Dombey intimates where he would have it placed; and shows him, with his hand upon the wall, the shape and size; and how it is to follow the memorial to the mother. Then, with his pencil, he writes out the inscription, and gives it to him: adding, 'I wish to have it done at once.
'It shall be done immediately, Sir.'
'There is really nothing to inscribe but name and age, you see.'
The man bows, glancing at the paper, but appears to hesitate. Mr Dombey not observing his hesitation, turns away, and leads towards the porch.
'I beg your pardon, Sir;' a touch falls gently on his mourning cloak; 'but as you wish it done immediately, and it may be put in hand when I get back - '
'Well?'
'Will you be so good as read it over again? I think there's a mistake.'
'Where?'
The statuary gives him back the paper, and points out, with his pocket rule, the words, 'beloved and only child.'
'It should be, "son," I think, Sir?'
'You are right. Of course. Make the correction.'
The father, with a hastier step, pursues his way to the coach. When the other three, who follow closely, take their seats, his face is hidden for the first time - shaded by his cloak. Nor do they see it any more that day. He alights first, and passes immediately into his own room. The other mourners (who are only Mr Chick, and two of the medical attendants) proceed upstairs to the drawing-room, to be received by Mrs Chick and Miss Tox. And what the face is, in the shut-up chamber underneath: or what the thoughts are: what the heart is, what the contest or the suffering: no one knows.
The chief thing that they know, below stairs, in the kitchen, is that 'it seems like Sunday.' They can hardly persuade themselves but that there is something unbecoming, if not wicked, in the conduct of the people out of doors, who pursue their ordinary occupations, and wear their everyday attire. It is quite a novelty to have the blinds up, and the shutters open; and they make themselves dismally comfortable over bottles of wine, which are freely broached as on a festival. They are much inclined to moralise. Mr Towlinson proposes with a sigh, 'Amendment to us all!' for which, as Cook says with another sigh, 'There's room enough, God knows.' In the evening, Mrs Chick and Miss Tox take to needlework again. In the evening also, Mr Towlinson goes out to take the air, accompanied by the housemaid, who has not yet tried her mourning bonnet. They are very tender to each other at dusky street-corners, and Towlinson has visions of leading an altered and blameless existence as a serious greengrocer in Oxford Market.
There is sounder sleep and deeper rest in Mr Dombey's house tonight, than there has been for many nights. The morning sun awakens the old household, settled down once more in their old ways. The rosy children opposite run past with hoops. There is a splendid wedding in the church. The juggler's wife is active with the money-box in another quarter of the town. The mason sings and whistles as he chips out P-A-U-L in the marble slab before him.
And can it be that in a world so full and busy, the loss of one weak creature makes a void in any heart, so wide and deep that nothing but the width and depth of vast eternity can fill it up! Florence, in her innocent affliction, might have answered, 'Oh my brother, oh my dearly loved and loving brother! Only friend and companion of my slighted childhood! Could any less idea shed the light already dawning on your early grave, or give birth to the softened sorrow that is springing into life beneath this rain of tears!'
'My dear child,' said Mrs Chick, who held it as a duty incumbent on her, to improve the occasion, 'when you are as old as I am - '
'Which will be the prime of life,' observed Miss Tox.
'You will then,' pursued Mrs Chick, gently squeezing Miss Tox's hand in acknowledgment of her friendly remark, 'you will then know that all grief is unavailing, and that it is our duty to submit.'
'I will try, dear aunt I do try,' answered Florence, sobbing.
'I am glad to hear it,' said Mrs Chick, 'because; my love, as our dear Miss Tox - of whose sound sense and excellent judgment, there cannot possibly be two opinions - '
'My dear Louisa, I shall really be proud, soon,' said Miss Tox
- 'will tell you, and confirm by her experience,' pursued Mrs Chick, 'we are called upon on all occasions to make an effort It is required of us. If any - my dear,' turning to Miss Tox, 'I want a word. Mis- Mis-'
'Demeanour?' suggested Miss Tox.
'No, no, no,' said Mrs Chic 'How can you! Goodness me, it's on, the end of my tongue. Mis-'
Placed affection?' suggested Miss Tox, timidly.
'Good gracious, Lucretia!' returned Mrs Chick 'How very monstrous! Misanthrope, is the word I want. The idea! Misplaced affection! I say, if any misanthrope were to put, in my presence, the question "Why were we born?" I should reply, "To make an effort"'
'Very good indeed,' said Miss Tox, much impressed by the originality of the sentiment 'Very good.'
'Unhappily,' pursued Mrs Chick, 'we have a warning under our own eyes. We have but too much reason to suppose, my dear child, that if an effort had been made in time, in this family, a train of the most trying and distressing circumstances might have been avoided. Nothing shall ever persuade me,' observed the good matron, with a resolute air, 'but that if that effort had been made by poor dear Fanny, the poor dear darling child would at least have had a stronger constitution.'
Mrs Chick abandoned herself to her feelings for half a moment; but, as a practical illustration of her doctrine, brought herself up short, in the middle of a sob, and went on again.
'Therefore, Florence, pray let us see that you have some strength of mind, and do not selfishly aggravate the distress in which your poor Papa is plunged.'
'Dear aunt!' said Florence, kneeling quickly down before her, that she might the better and more earnestly look into her face. 'Tell me more about Papa. Pray tell me about him! Is he quite heartbroken?'
Miss Tox was of a tender nature, and there was something in this appeal that moved her very much. Whether she saw it in a succession, on the part of the neglected child, to the affectionate concern so often expressed by her dead brother - or a love that sought to twine itself about the heart that had loved him, and that could not bear to be shut out from sympathy with such a sorrow, in such sad community of love and grief - or whether the only recognised the earnest and devoted spirit which, although discarded and repulsed, was wrung with tenderness long unreturned, and in the waste and solitude of this bereavement cried to him to seek a comfort in it, and to give some, by some small response - whatever may have been her understanding of it, it moved Miss Tox. For the moment she forgot the majesty of Mrs Chick, and, patting Florence hastily on the cheek, turned aside and suffered the tears to gush from her eyes, without waiting for a lead from that wise matron.
Mrs Chick herself lost, for a moment, the presence of mind on which she so much prided herself; and remained mute, looking on the beautiful young face that had so long, so steadily, and patiently, been turned towards the little bed. But recovering her voice - which was synonymous with her presence of mind, indeed they were one and the same thing - she replied with dignity:
'Florence, my dear child, your poor Papa is peculiar at times; and to question me about him, is to question me upon a subject which I really do not pretend to understand. I believe I have as much influence with your Papa as anybody has. Still, all I can say is, that he has said very little to me; and that I have only seen him once or twice for a minute at a time, and indeed have hardly seen him then, for his room has been dark. I have said to your Papa, "Paul!" - that is the exact expression I used - "Paul! why do you not take something stimulating?" Your Papa's reply has always been, "Louisa, have the goodness to leave me. I want nothing. I am better by myself." If I was to be put upon my oath to-morrow, Lucretia, before a magistrate,' said Mrs Chick, 'I have no doubt I could venture to swear to those identical words.'
Miss Tox expressed her admiration by saying, 'My Louisa is ever methodical!'
'In short, Florence,' resumed her aunt, 'literally nothing has passed between your poor Papa and myself, until to-day; when I mentioned to your Papa that Sir Barnet and Lady Skettles had written exceedingly kind notes - our sweet boy! Lady Skettles loved him like a - where's my pocket handkerchief?'
Miss Tox produced one.
'Exceedingly kind notes, proposing that you should visit them for change of scene. Mentioning to your Papa that I thought Miss Tox and myself might now go home (in which he quite agreed), I inquired if he had any objection to your accepting this invitation. He said, "No, Louisa, not the least!"' Florence raised her tearful eye
'At the same time, if you would prefer staying here, Florence, to paying this visit at present, or to going home with me - '
'I should much prefer it, aunt,' was the faint rejoinder.
'Why then, child,'said Mrs Chick, 'you can. It's a strange choice, I must say. But you always were strange. Anybody else at your time of life, and after what has passed - my dear Miss Tox, I have lost my pocket handkerchief again - would be glad to leave here, one would suppose.
'I should not like to feel,' said Florence, 'as if the house was avoided. I should not like to think that the - his - the rooms upstairs were quite empty and dreary, aunt. I would rather stay here, for the present. Oh my brother! oh my brother!'
It was a natural emotion, not to be suppressed; and it would make way even between the fingers of the hands with which she covered up her face. The overcharged and heavy-laden breast must some times have that vent, or the poor wounded solitary heart within it would have fluttered like a bird with broken wings, and sunk down in the dust'
'Well, child!' said Mrs Chick, after a pause 'I wouldn't on any account say anything unkind to you, and that I'm sure you know. You will remain here, then, and do exactly as you like. No one will interfere with you, Florence, or wish to interfere with you, I'm sure.
Florence shook her head in sad assent'
'I had no sooner begun to advise your poor Papa that he really ought to seek some distraction and restoration in a temporary change,' said Mrs Chick, 'than he told me he had already formed the intention of going into the country for a short time. I'm sure I hope he'll go very soon. He can't go too soon. But I suppose there are some arrangements connected with his private papers and so forth, consequent on the affliction that has tried us all so much - I can't think what's become of mine: Lucretia, lend me yours, my dear - that may occupy him for one or two evenings in his own room. Your Papa's a Dombey, child, if ever there was one,' said Mrs Chick, drying both her eyes at once with great care on opposite corners of Miss Tox's handkerchief 'He'll make an effort. There's no fear of him.'
'Is there nothing, aunt,' said Florence, trembling, 'I might do to -
'Lord, my dear child,' interposed Mrs Chick, hastily, 'what are you talking about? If your Papa said to Me - I have given you his exact words, "Louisa, I want nothing; I am better by myself" - what do you think he'd say to you? You mustn't show yourself to him, child. Don't dream of such a thing.'
'Aunt,' said Florence, 'I will go and lie down on my bed.'
Mrs Chick approved of this resolution, and dismissed her with a kiss. But Miss Tox, on a faint pretence of looking for the mislaid handkerchief, went upstairs after her; and tried in a few stolen minutes to comfort her, in spite of great discouragement from Susan Nipper. For Miss Nipper, in her burning zeal, disparaged Miss Tox as a crocodile; yet her sympathy seemed genuine, and had at least the vantage-ground of disinterestedness - there was little favour to be won by it.
And was there no one nearer and dearer than Susan, to uphold the striving heart in its anguish? Was there no other neck to clasp; no other face to turn to? no one else to say a soothing word to such deep sorrow? Was Florence so alone in the bleak world that nothing else remained to her? Nothing. Stricken motherless and brotherless at once - for in the loss of little Paul, that first and greatest loss fell heavily upon her - this was the only help she had. Oh, who can tell how much she needed help at first!
At first, when the house subsided into its accustomed course, and they had all gone away, except the servants, and her father shut up in his own rooms, Florence could do nothing but weep, and wander up and down, and sometimes, in a sudden pang of desolate remembrance, fly to her own chamber, wring her hands, lay her face down on her bed, and know no consolation: nothing but the bitterness and cruelty of grief. This commonly ensued upon the recognition of some spot or object very tenderly dated with him; and it made the ale house, at first, a place of agony.
But it is not in the nature of pure love to burn so fiercely and unkindly long. The flame that in its grosser composition has the taint of earth may prey upon the breast that gives it shelter; but the fire from heaven is as gentle in the heart, as when it rested on the heads of the assembled twelve, and showed each man his brother, brightened and unhurt. The image conjured up, there soon returned the placid face, the softened voice, the loving looks, the quiet trustfulness and peace; and Florence, though she wept still, wept more tranquilly, and courted the remembrance.
It was not very long before the golden water, dancing on the wall, in the old place, at the old serene time, had her calm eye fixed upon it as it ebbed away. It was not very long before that room again knew her, often; sitting there alone, as patient and as mild as when she had watched beside the little bed. When any sharp sense of its being empty smote upon her, she could kneel beside it, and pray GOD - it was the pouring out of her full heart - to let one angel love her and remember her.
It was not very long before, in the midst of the dismal house so wide and dreary, her low voice in the twilight, slowly and stopping sometimes, touched the old air to which he had so often listened, with his drooping head upon her arm. And after that, and when it was quite dark, a little strain of music trembled in the room: so softly played and sung, that it was more lIke the mournful recollection of what she had done at his request on that last night, than the reality repeated. But it was repeated, often - very often, in the shadowy solitude; and broken murmurs of the strain still trembled on the keys, when the sweet voice was hushed in tears.
Thus she gained heart to look upon the work with which her fingers had been busy by his side on the sea-shore; and thus it was not very long before she took to it again - with something of a human love for it, as if it had been sentient and had known him; and, sitting in a window, near her mother's picture, in the unused room so long deserted, wore away the thoughtful hours.
Why did the dark eyes turn so often from this work to where the rosy children lived? They were not immediate!y suggestive of her loss; for they were all girls: four little sisters. But they were motherless like her - and had a father.
It was easy to know when he had gone out and was expected home, for the elder child was always dressed and waiting for him at the drawing-room window, or n the balcony; and when he appeared, her expectant face lighted up with joy, while the others at the high window, and always on the watch too, clapped their hands, and drummed them on the sill, and called to him. The elder child would come down to the hall, and put her hand in his, and lead him up the stairs; and Florence would see her afterwards sitting by his side, or on his knee, or hanging coaxingly about his neck and talking to him: and though they were always gay together, he would often watch her face as if he thought her like her mother that was dead. Florence would sometimes look no more at this, and bursting into tears would hide behind the curtain as if she were frightened, or would hurry from the window. Yet she could not help returning; and her work would soon fall unheeded from her hands again.
It was the house that had been empty, years ago. It had remained so for a long time. At last, and while she had been away from home, this family had taken it; and it was repaired and newly painted; and there were birds and flowers about it; and it looked very different from its old self. But she never thought of the house. The children and their father were all in all.
When he had dined, she could see them, through the open windows, go down with their governess or nurse, and cluster round the table; and in the still summer weather, the sound of their childish voices and clear laughter would come ringing across the street, into the drooping air of the room in which she sat. Then they would climb and clamber upstairs with him, and romp about him on the sofa, or group themselves at his knee, a very nosegay of little faces, while he seemed to tell them some story. Or they would come running out into the balcony; and then Florence would hide herself quickly, lest it should check them in their joy, to see her in her black dress, sitting there alone.
The elder child remained with her father when the rest had gone away, and made his tea for him - happy little house-keeper she was then! - and sat conversing with him, sometimes at the window, sometimes in the room, until the candles came. He made her his companion, though she was some years younger than Florence; and she could be as staid and pleasantly demure, with her little book or work-box, as a woman. When they had candles, Florence from her own dark room was not afraid to look again. But when the time came for the child to say 'Good-night, Papa,' and go to bed, Florence would sob and tremble as she raised her face to him, and could look no more.
Though still she would turn, again and again, before going to bed herself from the simple air that had lulled him to rest so often, long ago, and from the other low soft broken strain of music, back to that house. But that she ever thought of it, or watched it, was a secret which she kept within her own young breast.
And did that breast of Florence - Florence, so ingenuous and true - so worthy of the love that he had borne her, and had whispered in his last faint words - whose guileless heart was mirrored in the beauty of her face, and breathed in every accent of her gentle voice - did that young breast hold any other secret? Yes. One more.
When no one in the house was stirring, and the lights were all extinguished, she would softly leave her own room, and with noiseless feet descend the staircase, and approach her father's door. Against it, scarcely breathing, she would rest her face and head, and press her lips, in the yearning of her love. She crouched upon the cold stone floor outside it, every night, to listen even for his breath; and in her one absorbing wish to be allowed to show him some affection, to be a consolation to him, to win him over to the endurance of some tenderness from her, his solitary child, she would have knelt down at his feet, if she had dared, in humble supplication.
No one knew it' No one thought of it. The door was ever closed, and he shut up within. He went out once or twice, and it was said in the house that he was very soon going on his country journey; but he lived in those rooms, and lived alone, and never saw her, or inquired for her. Perhaps he did not even know that she was in the house.
One day, about a week after the funeral, Florence was sitting at her work, when Susan appeared, with a face half laughing and half crying, to announce a visitor.
'A visitor! To me, Susan!' said Florence, looking up in astonishment.
'Well, it is a wonder, ain't it now, Miss Floy?' said Susan; 'but I wish you had a many visitors, I do, indeed, for you'd be all the better for it, and it's my opinion that the sooner you and me goes even to them old Skettleses, Miss, the better for both, I may not wish to live in crowds, Miss Floy, but still I'm not a oyster.'
To do Miss Nipper justice, she spoke more for her young mistress than herself; and her face showed it.
'But the visitor, Susan,' said Florence.
Susan, with an hysterical explosion that was as much a laugh as a sob, and as much a sob as a laugh, answered,
'Mr Toots!'
The smile that appeared on Florence's face passed from it in a moment, and her eyes filled with tears. But at any rate it was a smile, and that gave great satisfaction to Miss Nipper.
'My own feelings exactly, Miss Floy,' said Susan, putting her apron to her eyes, and shaking her head. 'Immediately I see that Innocent in the Hall, Miss Floy, I burst out laughing first, and then I choked.'
Susan Nipper involuntarily proceeded to do the like again on the spot. In the meantime Mr Toots, who had come upstairs after her, all unconscious of the effect he produced, announced himself with his knuckles on the door, and walked in very brisKly.
'How d'ye do, Miss Dombey?' said Mr Toots. 'I'm very well, I thank you; how are you?'
Mr Toots - than whom there were few better fellows in the world, though there may have been one or two brighter spirits - had laboriously invented this long burst of discourse with the view of relieving the feelings both of Florence and himself. But finding that he had run through his property, as it were, in an injudicious manner, by squandering the whole before taking a chair, or before Florence had uttered a word, or before he had well got in at the door, he deemed it advisable to begin again.
'How d'ye do, Miss Dombey?' said Mr Toots. 'I'm very well, I thank you; how are you?'
Florence gave him her hand, and said she was very well.
'I'm very well indeed,' said Mr Toots, taking a chair. 'Very well indeed, I am. I don't remember,' said Mr Toots, after reflecting a little, 'that I was ever better, thank you.'
'It's very kind of you to come,' said Florence, taking up her work, 'I am very glad to see you.'
Mr Toots responded with a chuckle. Thinking that might be too lively, he corrected it with a sigh. Thinking that might be too melancholy, he corrected it with a chuckle. Not thoroughly pleasing himself with either mode of reply, he breathed hard.
'You were very kind to my dear brother,' said Florence, obeying her own natural impulse to relieve him by saying so. 'He often talked to me about you.'
'Oh it's of no consequence,' said Mr Toots hastily. 'Warm, ain't it?'
'It is beautiful weather,' replied Florence.
'It agrees with me!' said Mr Toots. 'I don't think I ever was so well as I find myself at present, I'm obliged to you.
After stating this curious and unexpected fact, Mr Toots fell into a deep well of silence.
'You have left Dr Blimber's, I think?' said Florence, trying to help him out.
'I should hope so,' returned Mr Toots. And tumbled in again.
He remained at the bottom, apparently drowned, for at least ten minutes. At the expiration of that period, he suddenly floated, and said,
'Well! Good morning, Miss Dombey.'
'Are you going?' asked Florence, rising.
'I don't know, though. No, not just at present,' said Mr Toots, sitting down again, most unexpectedly. 'The fact is - I say, Miss Dombey!'
'Don't be afraid to speak to me,' said Florence, with a quiet smile, 'I should he very glad if you would talk about my brother.'
'Would you, though?' retorted Mr Toots, with sympathy in every fibre of his otherwise expressionless face. 'Poor Dombey! I'm sure I never thought that Burgess and Co. - fashionable tailors (but very dear), that we used to talk about - would make this suit of clothes for such a purpose.' Mr Toots was dressed in mourning. 'Poor Dombey! I say! Miss Dombey!' blubbered Toots.
'Yes,' said Florence.
'There's a friend he took to very much at last. I thought you'd lIke to have him, perhaps, as a sort of keepsake. You remember his remembering Diogenes?'
'Oh yes! oh yes' cried Florence.
'Poor Dombey! So do I,' said Mr Toots.
Mr Toots, seeing Florence in tears, had great difficulty in getting beyond this point, and had nearly tumbled into the well again. But a chucKle saved him on the brink.
'I say,' he proceeded, 'Miss Dombey! I could have had him stolen for ten shillings, if they hadn't given him up: and I would: but they were glad to get rid of him, I think. If you'd like to have him, he's at the door. I brought him on purpose for you. He ain't a lady's dog, you know,' said Mr Toots, 'but you won't mind that, will you?'
In fact, Diogenes was at that moment, as they presently ascertained from looking down into the street, staring through the window of a hackney cabriolet, into which, for conveyance to that spot, he had been ensnared, on a false pretence of rats among the straw. Sooth to say, he was as unlike a lady's dog as might be; and in his gruff anxiety to get out, presented an appearance sufficiently unpromising, as he gave short yelps out of one side of his mouth, and overbalancing himself by the intensity of every one of those efforts, tumbled down into the straw, and then sprung panting up again, putting out his tongue, as if he had come express to a Dispensary to be examined for his health.
But though Diogenes was as ridiculous a dog as one would meet with on a summer's day; a blundering, ill-favoured, clumsy, bullet-headed dog, continually acting on a wrong idea that there was an enemy in the neighbourhood, whom it was meritorious to bark at; and though he was far from good-tempered, and certainly was not clever, and had hair all over his eyes, and a comic nose, and an inconsistent tail, and a gruff voice; he was dearer to Florence, in virtue of that parting remembrance of him, and that request that he might be taken care of, than the most valuable and beautiful of his kind. So dear, indeed, was this same ugly Diogenes, and so welcome to her, that she took the jewelled hand of Mr Toots and kissed it in her gratitude. And when Diogenes, released, came tearing up the stairs and bouncing into the room (such a business as there was, first, to get him out of the cabriolet!), dived under all the furniture, and wound a long iron chain, that dangled from his neck, round legs of chairs and tables, and then tugged at it until his eyes became unnaturally visible, in consequence of their nearly starting out of his head; and when he growled at Mr Toots, who affected familiarity; and went pell-mell at Towlinson, morally convinced that he was the enemy whom he had barked at round the corner all his life and had never seen yet; Florence was as pleased with him as if he had been a miracle of discretion.
Mr Toots was so overjoyed by the success of his present, and was so delighted to see Florence bending down over Diogenes, smoothing his coarse back with her little delicate hand - Diogenes graciously allowing it from the first moment of their acquaintance - that he felt it difficult to take leave, and would, no doubt, have been a much longer time in making up his mind to do so, if he had not been assisted by Diogenes himself, who suddenly took it into his head to bay Mr Toots, and to make short runs at him with his mouth open. Not exactly seeing his way to the end of these demonstrations, and sensible that they placed the pantaloons constructed by the art of Burgess and Co. in jeopardy, Mr Toots, with chuckles, lapsed out at the door: by which, after looking in again two or three times, without any object at all, and being on each occasion greeted with a fresh run from Diogenes, he finally took himself off and got away.
'Come, then, Di! Dear Di! Make friends with your new mistress. Let us love each other, Di!'said Florence, fondling his shaggy head. And Di, the rough and gruff, as if his hairy hide were pervious to the tear that dropped upon it, and his dog's heart melted as it fell, put his nose up to her face, and swore fidelity.
Diogenes the man did not speak plainer to Alexander the Great than Diogenes the dog spoke to Florence.' He subscribed to the offer of his little mistress cheerfully, and devoted himself to her service. A banquet was immediately provided for him in a corner; and when he had eaten and drunk his fill, he went to the window where Florence was sitting, looking on, rose up on his hind legs, with his awkward fore paws on her shoulders, licked her face and hands, nestled his great head against her heart, and wagged his tail till he was tired. Finally, Diogenes coiled himself up at her feet and went to sleep.
Although Miss Nipper was nervous in regard of dogs, and felt it necessary to come into the room with her skirts carefully collected about her, as if she were crossing a brook on stepping-stones; also to utter little screams and stand up on chairs when Diogenes stretched himself, she was in her own manner affected by the kindness of Mr Toots, and could not see Florence so alive to the attachment and society of this rude friend of little Paul's, without some mental comments thereupon that brought the water to her eyes. Mr Dombey, as a part of her reflections, may have been, in the association of ideas, connected with the dog; but, at any rate, after observing Diogenes and his mistress all the evening, and after exerting herself with much good-will to provide Diogenes a bed in an ante-chamber outside his mistress's door, she said hurriedly to Florence, before leaving her for the night:
'Your Pa's a going off, Miss Floy, tomorrow morning.'
'To-morrow morning, Susan?'
'Yes, Miss; that's the orders. Early.'
'Do you know,' asked Florence, without looking at her, 'where Papa is going, Susan?'
'Not exactly, Miss. He's going to meet that precious Major first, and I must say if I was acquainted with any Major myself (which Heavens forbid), it shouldn't be a blue one!'
'Hush, Susan!' urged Florence gently.
'Well, Miss Floy,' returned Miss Nipper, who was full of burning indignation, and minded her stops even less than usual. 'I can't help it, blue he is, and while I was a Christian, although humble, I would have natural-coloured friends, or none.'
It appeared from what she added and had gleaned downstairs, that Mrs Chick had proposed the Major for Mr Dombey's companion, and that Mr Dombey, after some hesitation, had invited him.
'Talk of him being a change, indeed!' observed Miss Nipper to herself with boundless contempt. 'If he's a change, give me a constancy.
'Good-night, Susan,' said Florence.
'Good-night, my darling dear Miss Floy.'
Her tone of commiseration smote the chord so often roughly touched, but never listened to while she or anyone looked on. Florence left alone, laid her head upon her hand, and pressing the other over her swelling heart, held free communication with her sorrows.
It was a wet night; and the melancholy rain fell pattering and dropping with a weary sound. A sluggish wind was blowing, and went moaning round the house, as if it were in pain or grief. A shrill noise quivered through the trees. While she sat weeping, it grew late, and dreary midnight tolled out from the steeples.
Florence was little more than a child in years - not yet fourteen- and the loneliness and gloom of such an hour in the great house where Death had lately made its own tremendous devastation, might have set an older fancy brooding on vague terrors. But her innocent imagination was too full of one theme to admit them. Nothing wandered in her thoughts but love - a wandering love, indeed, and castaway - but turning always to her father. There was nothing in the dropping of the rain, the moaning of the wind, the shuddering of the trees, the striking of the solemn clocks, that shook this one thought, or diminished its interest' Her recollections of the dear dead boy - and they were never absent - were itself, the same thing. And oh, to be shut out: to be so lost: never to have looked into her father's face or touched him, since that hour!
She could not go to bed, poor child, and never had gone yet, since then, without making her nightly pilgrimage to his door. It would have been a strange sad sight, to see her' now, stealing lightly down the stairs through the thick gloom, and stopping at it with a beating heart, and blinded eyes, and hair that fell down loosely and unthought of; and touching it outside with her wet cheek. But the night covered it, and no one knew.
The moment that she touched the door on this night, Florence found that it was open. For the first time it stood open, though by but a hair's-breadth: and there was a light within. The first impulse of the timid child - and she yielded to it - was to retire swiftly. Her next, to go back, and to enter; and this second impulse held her in irresolution on the staircase.
In its standing open, even by so much as that chink, there seemed to be hope. There was encouragement in seeing a ray of light from within, stealing through the dark stern doorway, and falling in a thread upon the marble floor. She turned back, hardly knowing what she did, but urged on by the love within her, and the trial they had undergone together, but not shared: and with her hands a little raised and trembling, glided in.
Her father sat at his old table in the middle room. He had been arranging some papers, and destroying others, and the latter lay in fragile ruins before him. The rain dripped heavily upon the glass panes in the outer room, where he had so often watched poor Paul, a baby; and the low complainings of the wind were heard without.
But not by him. He sat with his eyes fixed on the table, so immersed in thought, that a far heavier tread than the light foot of his child could make, might have failed to rouse him. His face was turned towards her. By the waning lamp, and at that haggard hour, it looked worn and dejected; and in the utter loneliness surrounding him, there was an appeal to Florence that struck home.
'Papa! Papa! speak to me, dear Papa!'
He started at her voice, and leaped up from his seat. She was close before him' with extended arms, but he fell back.
'What is the matter?' he said, sternly. 'Why do you come here? What has frightened you?'
If anything had frightened her, it was the face he turned upon her. The glowing love within the breast of his young daughter froze before it, and she stood and looked at him as if stricken into stone.
There was not one touch of tenderness or pity in it. There was not one gleam of interest, parental recognition, or relenting in it. There was a change in it, but not of that kind. The old indifference and cold constraint had given place to something: what, she never thought and did not dare to think, and yet she felt it in its force, and knew it well without a name: that as it looked upon her, seemed to cast a shadow on her head.
Did he see before him the successful rival of his son, in health and life? Did he look upon his own successful rival in that son's affection? Did a mad jealousy and withered pride, poison sweet remembrances that should have endeared and made her precious to him? Could it be possible that it was gall to him to look upon her in her beauty and her promise: thinking of his infant boy!
Florence had no such thoughts. But love is quick to know when it is spurned and hopeless: and hope died out of hers, as she stood looking in her father's face.
'I ask you, Florence, are you frightened? Is there anything the matter, that you come here?'
'I came, Papa - '
'Against my wishes. Why?'
She saw he knew why: it was written broadly on his face: and dropped her head upon her hands with one prolonged low cry.
Let him remember it in that room, years to come. It has faded from the air, before he breaks the silence. It may pass as quickly from his brain, as he believes, but it is there. Let him remember it in that room, years to come!
He took her by the arm. His hand was cold, and loose, and scarcely closed upon her.
'You are tired, I daresay,' he said, taking up the light, and leading her towards the door, 'and want rest. We all want rest. Go, Florence. You have been dreaming.'
The dream she had had, was over then, God help her! and she felt that it could never more come back
'I will remain here to light you up the stairs. The whole house is yours above there,' said her father, slowly. 'You are its mistress now. Good-night!'
Still covering her face, she sobbed, and answered 'Good-night, dear Papa,' and silently ascended. Once she looked back as if she would have returned to him, but for fear. It was a mommentary thought, too hopeless to encourage; and her father stood there with the light - hard, unresponsive, motionless - until the fluttering dress of his fair child was lost in the darkness.
Let him remember it in that room, years to come. The rain that falls upon the roof: the wind that mourns outside the door: may have foreknowledge in their melancholy sound. Let him remember it in that room, years to come!
The last time he had watched her, from the same place, winding up those stairs, she had had her brother in her arms. It did not move his heart towards her now, it steeled it: but he went into his room, and locked his door, and sat down in his chair, and cried for his lost boy.
Diogenes was broad awake upon his post, and waiting for his little mistress.
'Oh, Di! Oh, dear Di! Love me for his sake!'
Diogenes already loved her for her own, and didn't care how much he showed it. So he made himself vastly ridiculous by performing a variety of uncouth bounces in the ante-chamber, and concluded, when poor Florence was at last asleep, and dreaming of the rosy children opposite, by scratching open her bedroom door: rolling up his bed into a pillow: lying down on the boards, at the full length of his tether, with his head towards her: and looking lazily at her, upside down, out of the tops of his eyes, until from winking and winking he fell asleep himself, and dreamed, with gruff barks, of his enemy.
董贝先生的公馆中一片寂静。仆人们蹑手蹑脚地、窸窸窣窣地上楼、下楼，不让脚步发出响声。他们聚在一起没完没了地聊天，长时间地坐着用餐，尽情吃喝，仿照那种冷酷无情、不信鬼神的习俗来享受乐趣。威肯姆大嫂眼泪汪汪，叙述着忧伤的往事；她跟他们说，她在皮普钦太太那里就经常说，将来会发生这样的结果；餐桌上的浓啤酒她比平时喝得更多；她很忧愁，但爱和人交谈。厨娘的心情也相似。她答应晚餐做些油炸的食品，并作出同等的努力来克制自己的感伤和忍住洋葱的气味。托林森开始觉得这是命中注定；他希望有人能告诉他，居住在坐落于街道拐角的房屋里能有什么好处。他们全都觉得，这似乎是好久以前发生的事情了，虽然那孩子还依旧安安静静、漂漂亮亮地躺在他的小床上。
天黑以后来了几个人，他们穿着毡鞋，默不作声，以前就曾经到这里来过。随着他们来的是一张安息的床，这是一张多么奇怪的给孩子睡眠的床啊！失去孩子的父亲一直没有露面，甚至连侍候他的仆人也一直见不到他；因为不论是谁进入他的黑暗的房间，他总是坐在最里面的一个角落里，除了来回踱步外，其他时间似乎就从来不曾移动过身体。可是家里的人们早上都在交头接耳，窃窃私语说，他们听到他深夜走上楼去，待在那里——待在房间里——，直到太阳升起为止。
在城里公司的办公室里，由于关上百叶窗，毛玻璃的窗子更为暗淡；当办公桌上的灯光被悄悄透进的亮光冲淡一半，而白天的亮光又被灯光冲淡一半时，房间里笼罩着一种不寻常的幽暗。没有办理多少业务。职员们不愿工作；他们约好下午出去吃排骨，并到河上游逛。信差珀奇磨磨蹭蹭地执行他的差事；他被朋友们邀请到酒吧，在那里高谈阔论，感叹人事的变化无常。晚上他比往常提早回到鲍尔斯池塘家里，请珀奇太太吃小牛肉片和喝苏格兰浓啤酒。经理卡克先生没有宴请别人，也没有别人宴请他，而是独自待在自己的办公室里，整天露着牙齿；似乎在卡克先生的道路上有个什么东西消失了——有个什么障碍被搬除了，他前面的道路已经被扫清了。
住在董贝先生家对面的脸色红润的孩子们这时从他们育儿室的窗口向下面的街道探望，因为在董贝先生家的门口有四匹黑马，马头上装饰着翎毛，翎毛在黑马所拉的马车上方摇晃着；这些情景以及披着披巾，拿着棍棒的人们，吸引了一群人围观。玩杂耍的人本准备旋转盘子，这时又在他华丽的衣服外面套上一件宽松的外衣；他的拖着腿走路的妻子，手上抱着一个重娃娃，身子向一边倾斜，正游手好闲地看着送殡的人们出来。但是当她很轻易地抱着的孩子被挤到前面时，她就把他更紧地压在她肮脏的乳房上。对面高高的窗子里脸色红润的孩子当中最小的一个，兴高采烈，不要别人来制止她，这时她望着保姆的脸，用胖乎乎的手指指着问道：“那是什么？”
这时，董贝先生在周围一小群穿着丧服的仆人和哭哭啼啼的妇女们中间，穿过前厅，走向另一辆等待着他的四轮马车。这些旁观的人们心想，他并没有被悲伤和痛苦压倒。他的步伐还是跟平日一样矫健，他的态度还是跟平日一样生硬呆板。他没有把脸掩藏在手绢里，而是直望着前方。他的脸虽然稍稍有些消瘦、森严、苍白，但表情仍和往常一样。他在马车里坐定了位子，另外三位先生也跟着进了马车。于是隆重的送殡队伍沿着街道向前徐徐移动。玩杂耍的人正在一根棍子上旋转着盆子，同样的人群正在赞赏这技艺时，翎毛还在远处摇晃着。但是玩杂耍的人的妻子拿着盒子讨钱，不像平日那样机灵麻利，因为孩子的葬礼使她联想到她的被破烂的围巾覆盖着的婴儿也许将来不能长大成人，不能在头上绕上一根天蓝色的束发带，穿着橙红色的衬裤，在泥里翻跟斗。
翎毛沿着街道，忧郁地、曲曲折折地向前行进，已经可以听到教堂的钟声。这个漂亮的孩子就在这个教堂里得到了他不久唯一能遗留在人世的东西——一个名字。他们把他死去的一切安放在这里，靠近他母亲的遗骸。这很好。他们的骨灰在那里，弗洛伦斯不论哪一天散步——唉，多么孤独多么孤独的散步啊！——随时都可以经过那里。
仪式完毕，教士们都离开之后，董贝先生环顾四周，低声问道，要求到这里来听取他有关墓碑的指示的人在不在？
一个人走上来，说：“在。”
董贝先生通知他，他希望把墓碑安放在什么地方；又用手在墙上画出它的形状和大小；还指出，它应该紧挨着他母亲的墓碑，然后他用铅笔写出碑文，递给他，说：“我希望立刻把它刻好。
“立刻就会刻好，先生。”
“您看，除了姓名和年龄就没有什么别的要刻的了。”
那人鞠了个躬，看了看那张纸，好像踌躇不定似的。董贝先生没有留意到他在迟疑，所以就转身向门廊走去。
“请您原谅，先生，”一只手轻轻地碰了碰他的丧服，“可是因为您希望立刻就把它刻好，我回去也可以着手进行——”
“唔？”
“能不能劳驾您再看一遍？我觉得有一个差错。”
“什么地方？”
那位雕刻墓碑的匠人把纸递还给他，用随身携带的一支尺子指出下面的一些词：“心爱的和唯一的孩子。”
“先生，我想应当是‘儿子’吧？”
“您说得对。当然是。改过来吧。”
这位父亲以更快的步伐走向马车。当紧跟在他后面的另外三个人在马车里坐下时，他的脸第一次被掩盖着——被他的外衣捂着。那天他们再也没有见到它。他首先下了马车，立刻走到他自己的房间里去。其他参加葬礼的人（他们只不过是奇克先生和两位医生）上楼到客厅里，由奇克夫人和托克斯小姐接待他们。至于楼下关闭着的房间里的那个人，他的脸上是什么表情，他在想些什么，他的心情怎么样，有什么冲突或痛苦，谁也不知道。
地下室厨房里的人们只知道：“今天像星期天。”他们心里总觉得，外面街道上那些穿着日常服装，为日常工作奔忙的人们，在他们的行为中如果没有什么邪恶的东西的话，那么总还是有一些不对头的地方。窗帘已经卷上，百叶窗已经拉开，这是件不同于前几天的新鲜事情。他们像过节一般尽情地喝着一瓶瓶的酒，以此消愁解忧。他们都很喜欢劝善戒恶。托林森叹了一口气，举杯祝酒道，“让我们都来改过自新吧！”厨娘也叹了一口气，说：“上帝知道，要改过自新的地方多着哪！”晚上，奇克夫人和托克斯小姐又做起针线活来。在同一个晚上，托林森先生跟女仆一块出去兜风，她直到现在还没有试戴过服丧的软帽。他们在阴暗的街道拐角，彼此十分亲热；托林森希望有朝一日到牛津市场去当一名殷实的蔬菜水果商人，过另一种不同的、无可指责的生活。
这天夜里，在董贝先生的公馆中，人们跟以前好多夜相比，睡得比较酣畅，休息得比较充分。朝阳照旧唤醒了屋子里原来所有的人们，把他们重新推入他们往常的生活轨道。对面屋子里脸色红润的孩子们滚着铁环跑过去。教堂里举行了一个隆重的婚礼。玩杂耍的人的妻子在城市的另一个街区里，拿着讨钱的盒子，活跃地跑来跑去。石匠在他前面的大理石板上刻出•保•罗两个字的时候，唱着歌曲，吹着口哨。
在一个人口众多、忙忙碌碌的世界上，一个虚弱的小人儿的失去，在哪一个心上造成这样宽阔这样深沉的空虚，只有广袤无边的永恒才能把它填补上呢？弗洛伦斯在她真挚纯朴的悲痛中也许会回答道，“啊，我的弟弟，啊，我曾经热爱过、现在仍然热爱着的弟弟！我受到冷落的童年中的唯一的朋友和同伴！难道还有不那么高尚的思想能把您的已经露出曙光的早逝的坟墓照亮，或者能使这在泪落如雨时产生的阵阵悲痛减轻一些吗？”
“我亲爱的孩子，”奇克夫人说道，她认为她有义不容辞的责任抓住机会来开导她，“当你到了我这样的年纪——”
“也就是说到了精力充沛的壮年，”托克斯小姐说。
“那时候你就会知道，”奇克夫人说，一边轻轻地捏了一下托克斯小姐的手，对她友好的讲话表示感谢，“悲痛是无益的，我们的本分是听天由命。”
“我将努力这样去做，亲爱的姑妈，我是这样努力的。”弗洛伦斯抽泣着说。
“我很高兴听到你这么说，”奇克夫人说，“因为我亲爱的，正如我们亲爱的托克斯小姐——对于她正确的见解和卓越的判断是不可能有异议的——”
“我亲爱的路易莎，说实在的，我立刻就要骄傲起来了。”
“正如我们亲爱的托克斯小姐将会告诉你，并且用她的经验来证实的那样，”奇克夫人继续说道，“在任何情况下都要求我们作出努力。要求我们这样做。如果有什么厌——我亲爱的，”她向托克斯小姐说，“我忘了这个词。厌——厌——”
“厌倦，”托克斯小姐提示说。
“不是，不是，不是，”奇克夫人说，“你怎么会想出这个词呢！天呀，它已经到了我的嘴边了。厌——”
“厌恶，”托克斯小姐心虚胆怯地提示说。
“我的上帝，卢克丽霞！”奇克夫人回答，“多么荒唐！厌世者——这就是我想要说的词。你怎么会那么想！厌恶！我是说，如果有什么厌世者当着我的面提出下面的问题：‘为什么我们要生下来？’我就回答他说，‘为了作出努力’”。
“真是说得很好，”托克斯小姐说，这别出心裁的见解使她留下了深刻的印像，“•很好。”
“不幸的是，”奇克夫人继续说道，“在我们眼前已经有了一个教训。我们完全有理由设想，我亲爱的孩子，如果在这个家庭中曾经及时作出过努力，那么许多令人痛苦、难以忍受的事情本来是可以避免的。没有什么能使我改变我的看法，”这位善良的家庭主妇以坚决的语气说道，“如果可怜的亲爱的范妮先前能作出努力的话，那么这可怜的孩子至少可以有强壮一些的体质。”
奇克夫人控制不住自己的感情约有半秒钟光景；但是为了给她的学说提供一个实际的范例，她突然中止啜泣，继续往下说道：
“因此，弗洛伦斯，请向我们表明，你的意志是相当坚强的，不要只顾自己，加深你可怜的爸爸的痛苦。”
“亲爱的姑妈！”弗洛伦斯迅速地跪在她面前，以便更仔细更诚挚地看着她的脸，说道，“再告诉我一些爸爸的情况吧。
请跟我谈谈他吧！他是不是伤心绝望了？”
托克斯小姐是一位心慈善感的人，在这哀求中有一些东西使她深受感动。是不是她在这哀求中看到这位被冷落的女孩子希望能够继续像她死去的弟弟那样，时常向父亲表露出亲切的关怀？还是她在这哀求中看到这女孩子心中怀着一种爱，它想缠绕在曾经爱过她弟弟的那颗心的周围，而不能忍受在这爱与哀伤的交集之中她父亲由于悲痛而拒绝向它表示同情？还是她只不过是在这女孩子身上看出有一种真挚、忠诚的精神，它虽然遭到拒绝和厌弃，却仍痛苦地满怀着长久得不到回报的柔情，在她失去弟弟以后的忧愁和孤独中，它又转向父亲发出了哀求，希望从他微弱的反应中寻求到安慰，同时也去安慰他？——不论托克斯小姐怎样理解弗洛伦斯的哀求，反正这哀求是使她深受感动的。她在片刻间忘记了奇克夫人的尊严，急忙抚摸弗洛伦斯的脸颊，身子转向一旁，没有等待那位贤明的主妇的指示，就听凭泪水从眼睛中涌流出来了。
奇克夫人本人在片刻间也失去了她十分引以自豪的镇静，默默无言地望着那张美丽的年轻的脸，这张脸曾经长久地、耐性地、始终如一地照看过那张小床。可是她在恢复声音——它与镇静是同义的，它们实际上是同一个东西——以后，尊严地回答道：
“弗洛伦斯，我亲爱的孩子，你可怜的爸有时有些古怪；你向我问到他，那就是向我问一个我确实不敢自称是了解的问题。我相信，我对你爸爸的影响不比任何人小。可是我所能说的只是，他跟我谈得很少，我总共只见过他一、两次，每次不过一分钟；老实说，就是在那时候，我也没有看见他，因为他的房间是黑暗的。我曾对你爸爸说，‘保罗！’——当时我就是这样一字不差地对他说的——‘保罗！’你为什么不服点儿振奋精神的东西？你爸爸总是这样回答：‘路易莎，请你行行好离开我吧。我不需要任何东西。我一个人待着好。’卢克丽霞，如果明天要叫我到地方长官面前去起誓的话，”奇克夫人继续说，“那么我毫无疑问敢于发誓，他说过这些话。”
托克斯小姐表示钦佩地说，“我的路易莎总是这样有条有理！”
“总之，弗洛伦斯，”姑妈继续说道，“直到今天以前，我跟你可怜的爸爸几乎没有交谈过；今天我跟你爸爸说，巴尼特爵士和斯克特尔斯夫人写来了一封极其亲切的短简——我们亲爱的小男孩！斯克特尔斯夫人喜欢他极了，就像喜欢……
我的手绢在那里？”
托克斯小姐递上一块。
“这是一封极其亲切的短简，他们建议你去访问他们，换换环境。我跟你爸爸说，我觉得托克斯小姐和我现在可以回家了，这一点他完全同意；这时我就问他，他是不是反对你接受这个邀请，他说，‘不，路易莎，一点也不。’”。
弗洛伦斯抬起她那泪汪汪的眼睛。
“但是，弗洛伦斯，如果你宁愿待在这里，而不想现在去进行这次访问或跟我回家去的话——”
“我很愿意待在这里，姑妈——”回答的声音是微弱的。
“好吧，孩子，”奇克夫人说，“你可以待在这里。我得说，这是个古怪的选择。不过你总是古怪的。要是换了别人，不论是谁，到了你这样的年纪，又在经历了这样的事情之后，都是会高高兴兴离开这里的，这是人们意料之中的事情——我亲爱的托克斯小姐，我又找不到我的手绢了——”
“我不愿意觉得，仿佛应该避开这个家才好。”弗洛伦斯说，“我不愿意想到楼上的那个——他的房间空空荡荡，十分凄凉，姑妈。我目前宁肯留在这里。啊，我的弟弟呀！我的弟弟呀！”
这是自然的情感激动，不能加以压制；它甚至会从她捂在脸上的手指中间冲出来。那负担过重、疲惫不堪的胸膛有时必须有个排泄的孔道，否则里面那可怜的受伤的孤独的心就会像一只折断了翅膀的鸟那样挣扎扑腾，掉落在尘土之中的。
“好吧，孩子！”奇克夫人停了一下，接着又说道，“我无论如何也不愿意跟你说不客气的话，我相信，你也知道这一点。那么，你就待在这里，爱做什么就做什么。谁也不来干涉你，弗洛伦斯，而且我相信，谁也不希望来干涉你。”
弗洛伦斯点点头，悲伤地表示同意。
“我劝告你可怜的爸爸，他确实应该暂时换个环境，想法散散心，恢复一下精神，”奇克夫人说，“我的话刚说完，他就立刻对我说，他已经有了打算，想到乡下去一段短短的时间。说实在的，我真希望他很快就走。走得越早越好。不过我想他还得处理处理有关私人单据之类的事情，这些单据都是因为这次使我们受尽痛苦折磨的不幸事件所发生的。——我真闹不明白，我的手绢是怎么回事，它到哪里去了，卢克丽霞，我亲爱的，把您的信给我吧！——因此，他在他的房间里得忙上一、两个晚上。孩子，你的爸爸真不愧是我们董贝家里的人，如果要真有一个能当之无愧的人的话，”奇克夫人用托克斯小姐手绢的两个对角十分细心地把她的两只眼睛同时擦干。“他会作出努力的。不必为他担心。”
“姑妈，”弗洛伦斯颤抖着问道，“我就不可以做点什么事情使——”
“天主呀，我亲爱的孩子，”奇克夫人急忙打断她说，“你讲的是些什么话呀？如果你爸爸对我说——我已经把他的话原原本本地告诉你了——‘路易莎，我不需要任何东西。我一个人待着好。’——那么你以为他会对你说什么呢？你千万别在他跟前露面，孩子。别去梦想这种事情吧。”
“姑妈，”弗洛伦斯说，“我到我床上去躺躺。”
奇克夫人赞成她的这个决定，吻了吻她，就让她走了。可是托克斯小姐却假装去寻找丢失的手绢，跟着她上楼去，并偷出几分钟来想法安慰安慰她，尽管苏珊•尼珀表示出很不支持的态度。因为尼珀姑娘在她炽烈的热情中，把托克斯小姐贬损为一条鳄鱼；可是托克斯小姐的同情看来是真诚的，至少不是出于自私，这是个可取的优点——她这样做得不到什么好处。
难道就没有一个比苏珊更贴近更亲爱的人来支持那颗在极度痛苦中在努力奋斗的心了吗？难道就没有另一个脖子她可以搂抱，没有另一张脸她可以望着了吗？难道就没有另外一个人对这样深切的悲伤说上一句安慰的话了吗？难道在这凄凉的世界上，弗洛伦斯就这么孤独，没有给她留下任何别的东西了吗？没有。在失去母亲又失去弟弟的双重打击下——因为在失去小保罗以后，那第一个也是最大的损失就更沉重地压在她身上了——，苏珊是她唯一能得到的帮助。啊，谁能说得出，她首先多么需要帮助啊！”
最初，当住宅中的生活逐渐步入惯常的轨道，除了仆人和关在自己房间里的父亲之外，所有其他的人们都已离开时，弗洛伦斯不能做别的，她只是哭泣，在屋子里来回漫步，有时在悲凉的回忆突然引起的极度痛苦中飞跑到她自己的房间中，使劲地绞扭着双手，脸贴在床上，得不到任何安慰——除了剧烈的、无情的悲痛之外，再也得不到别的什么了。这通常是在看到一些跟小保罗亲切的感情紧密相连的场所或物品之后发生的；这就使这座悲惨不幸的住宅最初成了一个使她苦恼重重的地方。
但是，纯洁的爱在性质上并不会猛烈地、无情地长久燃烧。爱的火焰，由于其中粗俗的部分受到世俗的污染，所以它可能会折磨庇护它的胸膛；但是从上天降临的圣火却在心中柔和地闪耀，就像它降临在聚集在一起的十二个人的头上①，向他们每个人指明他的兄弟都笑逐颜开、安然无恙时的情形一样。当圣像被召唤
Chapter 19
Walter goes away

The wooden Midshipman at the Instrument-maker's door, like the hard-hearted little Midshipman he was, remained supremely indifferent to Walter's going away, even when the very last day of his sojourn in the back parlour was on the decline. With his quadrant at his round black knob of an eye, and his figure in its old attitude of indomitable alacrity, the Midshipman displayed his elfin small-clothes to the best advantage, and, absorbed in scientific pursuits, had no sympathy with worldly concerns. He was so far the creature of circumstances, that a dry day covered him with dust, and a misty day peppered him with little bits of soot, and a wet day brightened up his tarnished uniform for the moment, and a very hot day blistered him; but otherwise he was a callous, obdurate, conceited Midshipman, intent on his own discoveries, and caring as little for what went on about him, terrestrially, as Archimedes at the taking of Syracuse.
Such a Midshipman he seemed to be, at least, in the then position of domestic affairs. Walter eyed him kindly many a time in passing in and out; and poor old Sol, when Walter was not there, would come and lean against the doorpost, resting his weary wig as near the shoe-buckles of the guardian genius of his trade and shop as he could. But no fierce idol with a mouth from ear to ear, and a murderous visage made of parrot's feathers, was ever more indifferent to the appeals of its savage votaries, than was the Midshipman to these marks of attachment.
Walter's heart felt heavy as he looked round his old bedroom, up among the parapets and chimney-pots, and thought that one more night already darkening would close his acquaintance with it, perhaps for ever. Dismantled of his little stock of books and pictures, it looked coldly and reproachfully on him for his desertion, and had already a foreshadowing upon it of its coming strangeness. 'A few hours more,' thought Walter, 'and no dream I ever had here when I was a schoolboy will be so little mine as this old room. The dream may come back in my sleep, and I may return waking to this place, it may be: but the dream at least will serve no other master, and the room may have a score, and every one of them may change, neglect, misuse it.'
But his Uncle was not to be left alone in the little back parlour, where he was then sitting by himself; for Captain Cuttle, considerate in his roughness, stayed away against his will, purposely that they should have some talk together unobserved: so Walter, newly returned home from his last day's bustle, descended briskly, to bear him company.
'Uncle,' he said gaily, laying his hand upon the old man's shoulder, 'what shall I send you home from Barbados?'
'Hope, my dear Wally. Hope that we shall meet again, on this side of the grave. Send me as much of that as you can.'
'So I will, Uncle: I have enough and to spare, and I'll not be chary of it! And as to lively turtles, and limes for Captain Cuttle's punch, and preserves for you on Sundays, and all that sort of thing, why I'll send you ship-loads, Uncle: when I'm rich enough.'
Old Sol wiped his spectacles, and faintly smiled.
'That's right, Uncle!' cried Walter, merrily, and clapping him half a dozen times more upon the shoulder. 'You cheer up me! I'll cheer up you! We'll be as gay as larks to-morrow morning, Uncle, and we'll fly as high! As to my anticipations, they are singing out of sight now.
'Wally, my dear boy,' returned the old man, 'I'll do my best, I'll do my best.'
'And your best, Uncle,' said Walter, with his pleasant laugh, 'is the best best that I know. You'll not forget what you're to send me, Uncle?'
'No, Wally, no,' replied the old man; 'everything I hear about Miss Dombey, now that she is left alone, poor lamb, I'll write. I fear it won't be much though, Wally.'
'Why, I'll tell you what, Uncle,' said Walter, after a moment's hesitation, 'I have just been up there.'
'Ay, ay, ay?' murmured the old man, raising his eyebrows, and his spectacles with them.
'Not to see her,' said Walter, 'though I could have seen her, I daresay, if I had asked, Mr Dombey being out of town: but to say a parting word to Susan. I thought I might venture to do that, you know, under the circumstances, and remembering when I saw Miss Dombey last.'
'Yes, my boy, yes,' replied his Uncle, rousing himself from a temporary abstraction.
'So I saw her,' pursued Walter, 'Susan, I mean: and I told her I was off and away to-morrow. And I said, Uncle, that you had always had an interest in Miss Dombey since that night when she was here, and always wished her well and happy, and always would be proud and glad to serve her in the least: I thought I might say that, you know, under the circumstances. Don't you think so ?'
'Yes, my boy, yes,' replied his Uncle, in the tone as before.
'And I added,' pursued Walter, 'that if she - Susan, I mean - could ever let you know, either through herself, or Mrs Richards, or anybody else who might be coming this way, that Miss Dombey was well and happy, you would take it very kindly, and would write so much to me, and I should take it very kindly too. There! Upon my word, Uncle,' said Walter, 'I scarcely slept all last night through thinking of doing this; and could not make up my mind when I was out, whether to do it or not; and yet I am sure it is the true feeling of my heart, and I should have been quite miserable afterwards if I had not relieved it.'
His honest voice and manner corroborated what he said, and quite established its ingenuousness.
'So, if you ever see her, Uncle,' said Walter, 'I mean Miss Dombey now - and perhaps you may, who knows! - tell her how much I felt for her; how much I used to think of her when I was here; how I spoke of her, with the tears in my eyes, Uncle, on this last night before I went away. Tell her that I said I never could forget her gentle manner, or her beautiful face, or her sweet kind disposition that was better than all. And as I didn't take them from a woman's feet, or a young lady's: only a little innocent child's,' said Walter: 'tell her, if you don't mind, Uncle, that I kept those shoes - she'll remember how often they fell off, that night - and took them away with me as a remembrance!'
They were at that very moment going out at the door in one of Walter's trunks. A porter carrying off his baggage on a truck for shipment at the docks on board the Son and Heir, had got possession of them; and wheeled them away under the very eye of the insensible Midshipman before their owner had well finished speaking.
But that ancient mariner might have been excused his insensibility to the treasure as it rolled away. For, under his eye at the same moment, accurately within his range of observation, coming full into the sphere of his startled and intensely wide-awake look-out, were Florence and Susan Nipper: Florence looking up into his face half timidly, and receiving the whole shock of his wooden ogling!
More than this, they passed into the shop, and passed in at the parlour door before they were observed by anybody but the Midshipman. And Walter, having his back to the door, would have known nothing of their apparition even then, but for seeing his Uncle spring out of his own chair, and nearly tumble over another.
'Why, Uncle!' exclaimed Walter. 'What's the matter?'
Old Solomon replied, 'Miss Dombey!'
'Is it possible?' cried Walter, looking round and starting up in his turn. 'Here!'
Why, It was so possible and so actual, that, while the words were on his lips, Florence hurried past him; took Uncle Sol's snuff-coloured lapels, one in each hand; kissed him on the cheek; and turning, gave her hand to Walter with a simple truth and earnestness that was her own, and no one else's in the world!
'Going away, Walter!' said Florence.
'Yes, Miss Dombey,' he replied, but not so hopefully as he endeavoured: 'I have a voyage before me.'
'And your Uncle,' said Florence, looking back at Solomon. 'He is sorry you are going, I am sure. Ah! I see he is! Dear Walter, I am very sorry too.'
'Goodness knows,' exclaimed Miss Nipper, 'there's a many we could spare instead, if numbers is a object, Mrs Pipchin as a overseer would come cheap at her weight in gold, and if a knowledge of black slavery should be required, them Blimbers is the very people for the sitiwation.'
With that Miss Nipper untied her bonnet strings, and alter looking vacantly for some moments into a little black teapot that was set forth with the usual homely service on the table, shook her head and a tin canister, and began unasked to make the tea.
In the meantime Florence had turned again to the Instrument-maker, who was as full of admiration as surprise. 'So grown!' said old Sol. 'So improved! And yet not altered! Just the same!'
'Indeed!' said Florence.
'Ye - yes,' returned old Sol, rubbing his hands slowly, and considering the matter half aloud, as something pensive in the bright eyes looking at him arrested his attention. 'Yes, that expression was in the younger face, too!'
'You remember me,' said Florence with a smile, 'and what a little creature I was then?'
'My dear young lady,' returned the Instrument-maker, 'how could I forget you, often as I have thought of you and heard of you since! At the very moment, indeed, when you came in, Wally was talking about you to me, and leaving messages for you, and - '
'Was he?' said Florence. 'Thank you, Walter! Oh thank you, Walter! I was afraid you might be going away and hardly thinking of me;' and again she gave him her little hand so freely and so faithfully that Walter held it for some moments in his own, and could not bear to let it go.
Yet Walter did not hold it as he might have held it once, nor did its touch awaken those old day-dreams of his boyhood that had floated past him sometimes even lately, and confused him with their indistinct and broken shapes. The purity and innocence of her endearing manner, and its perfect trustfulness, and the undisguised regard for him that lay so deeply seated in her constant eyes, and glowed upon her fair face through the smile that shaded - for alas! it was a smile too sad to brighten - it, were not of their romantic race. They brought back to his thoughts the early death-bed he had seen her tending, and the love the child had borne her; and on the wings of such remembrances she seemed to rise up, far above his idle fancies, into clearer and serener air.
'I - I am afraid I must call you Walter's Uncle, Sir,' said Florence to the old man, 'if you'll let me.'
'My dear young lady,' cried old Sol. 'Let you! Good gracious!'
'We always knew you by that name, and talked of you,' said Florence, glancing round, and sighing gently. 'The nice old parlour! Just the same! How well I recollect it!'
Old Sol looked first at her, then at his nephew, and then rubbed his hands, and rubbed his spectacles, and said below his breath, 'Ah! time, time, time!'
There was a short silence; during which Susan Nipper skilfully impounded two extra cups and saucers from the cupboard, and awaited the drawing of the tea with a thoughtful air.
'I want to tell Walter's Uncle,' said Florence, laying her hand timidly upon the old man's as it rested on the table, to bespeak his attention, 'something that I am anxious about. He is going to be left alone, and if he will allow me - not to take Walter's place, for that I couldn't do, but to be his true friend and help him if I ever can while Walter is away, I shall be very much obliged to him indeed. Will you? May I, Walter's Uncle?'
The Instrument-maker, without speaking, put her hand to his lips, and Susan Nipper, leaning back with her arms crossed, in the chair of presidency into which she had voted herself, bit one end of her bonnet strings, and heaved a gentle sigh as she looked up at the skylight.
'You will let me come to see you,' said Florence, 'when I can; and you will tell me everything about yourself and Walter; and you will have no secrets from Susan when she comes and I do not, but will confide in us, and trust us, and rely upon us. And you'll try to let us be a comfort to you? Will you, Walter's Uncle?'
The sweet face looking into his, the gentle pleading eyes, the soft voice, and the light touch on his arm made the more winning by a child's respect and honour for his age, that gave to all an air of graceful doubt and modest hesitation - these, and her natural earnestness, so overcame the poor old Instrument-maker, that he only answered:
'Wally! say a word for me, my dear. I'm very grateful.'
'No, Walter,' returned Florence with her quiet smile. 'Say nothing for him, if you please. I understand him very well, and we must learn to talk together without you, dear Walter.'
The regretful tone in which she said these latter words, touched Walter more than all the rest.
'Miss Florence,' he replied, with an effort to recover the cheerful manner he had preserved while talking with his Uncle, 'I know no more than my Uncle, what to say in acknowledgment of such kindness, I am sure. But what could I say, after all, if I had the power of talking for an hour, except that it is like you?'
Susan Nipper began upon a new part of her bonnet string, and nodded at the skylight, in approval of the sentiment expressed.
'Oh! but, Walter,' said Florence, 'there is something that I wish to say to you before you go away, and you must call me Florence, if you please, and not speak like a stranger.'
'Like a stranger!' returned Walter, 'No. I couldn't speak so. I am sure, at least, I couldn't feel like one.'
'Ay, but that is not enough, and is not what I mean. For, Walter,' added Florence, bursting into tears, 'he liked you very much, and said before he died that he was fond of you, and said "Remember Walter!" and if you'll be a brother to me, Walter, now that he is gone and I have none on earth, I'll be your sister all my life, and think of you like one wherever we may be! This is what I wished to say, dear Walter, but I cannot say it as I would, because my heart is full.'
And in its fulness and its sweet simplicity, she held out both her hands to him. Walter taking them, stooped down and touched the tearful face that neither shrunk nor turned away, nor reddened as he did so, but looked up at him with confidence and truth. In that one moment, every shadow of doubt or agitation passed away from Walter's soul. It seemed to him that he responded to her innocent appeal, beside the dead child's bed: and, in the solemn presence he had seen there, pledged himself to cherish and protect her very image, in his banishment, with brotherly regard; to garner up her simple faith, inviolate; and hold himself degraded if he breathed upon it any thought that was not in her own breast when she gave it to him.
Susan Nipper, who had bitten both her bonnet strings at once, and imparted a great deal of private emotion to the skylight, during this transaction, now changed the subject by inquiring who took milk and who took sugar; and being enlightened on these points, poured out the tea. They all four gathered socially about the little table, and took tea under that young lady's active superintendence; and the presence of Florence in the back parlour, brightened the Tartar frigate on the wall.
Half an hour ago Walter, for his life, would have hardly called her by her name. But he could do so now when she entreated him. He could think of her being there, without a lurking misgiving that it would have been better if she had not come. He could calmly think how beautiful she was, how full of promise, what a home some happy man would find in such a heart one day. He could reflect upon his own place in that heart, with pride; and with a brave determination, if not to deserve it - he still thought that far above him - never to deserve it less
Some fairy influence must surely have hovered round the hands of Susan Nipper when she made the tea, engendering the tranquil air that reigned in the back parlour during its discussion. Some counter-influence must surely have hovered round the hands of Uncle Sol's chronometer, and moved them faster than the Tartar frigate ever went before the wind. Be this as it may, the visitors had a coach in waiting at a quiet corner not far off; and the chronometer, on being incidentally referred to, gave such a positive opinion that it had been waiting a long time, that it was impossible to doubt the fact, especially when stated on such unimpeachable authority. If Uncle Sol had been going to be hanged by his own time, he never would have allowed that the chronometer was too fast, by the least fraction of a second.
Florence at parting recapitulated to the old man all that she had said before, and bound him to the compact. Uncle Sol attended her lovingly to the legs of the wooden Midshipman, and there resigned her to Walter, who was ready to escort her and Susan Nipper to the coach.
'Walter,' said Florence by the way, 'I have been afraid to ask before your Uncle. Do you think you will be absent very long?'
'Indeed,' said Walter, 'I don't know. I fear so. Mr Dombey signified as much, I thought, when he appointed me.'
'Is it a favour, Walter?' inquired Florence, after a moment's hesitation, and looking anxiously in his face.
'The appointment?' returned Walter.
'Yes.'
Walter would have given anything to have answered in the affirmative, but his face answered before his lips could, and Florence was too attentive to it not to understand its reply.
'I am afraid you have scarcely been a favourite with Papa,' she said, timidly.
'There is no reason,' replied Walter, smiling, 'why I should be.'
'No reason, Walter!'
'There was no reason,' said Walter, understanding what she meant. 'There are many people employed in the House. Between Mr Dombey and a young man like me, there's a wide space of separation. If I do my duty, I do what I ought, and do no more than all the rest.'
Had Florence any misgiving of which she was hardly conscious: any misgiving that had sprung into an indistinct and undefined existence since that recent night when she had gone down to her father's room: that Walter's accidental interest in her, and early knowledge of her, might have involved him in that powerful displeasure and dislike? Had Walter any such idea, or any sudden thought that it was in her mind at that moment? Neither of them hinted at it. Neither of them spoke at all, for some short time. Susan, walking on the other side of Walter, eyed them both sharply; and certainly Miss Nipper's thoughts travelled in that direction, and very confidently too.
'You may come back very soon,' said Florence, 'perhaps, Walter.'
'I may come back,' said Walter, 'an old man, and find you an old lady. But I hope for better things.'
'Papa,' said Florence, after a moment, 'will - will recover from his grief, and - speak more freely to me one day, perhaps; and if he should, I will tell him how much I wish to see you back again, and ask him to recall you for my sake.'
There was a touching modulation in these words about her father, that Walter understood too well.
The coach being close at hand, he would have left her without speaking, for now he felt what parting was; but Florence held his hand when she was seated, and then he found there was a little packet in her own.
'Walter,' she said, looking full upon him with her affectionate eyes, 'like you, I hope for better things. I will pray for them, and believe that they will arrive. I made this little gift for Paul. Pray take it with my love, and do not look at it until you are gone away. And now, God bless you, Walter! never forget me. You are my brother, dear!'
He was glad that Susan Nipper came between them, or he might have left her with a sorrowful remembrance of him. He was glad too that she did not look out of the coach again, but waved the little hand to him instead, as long as he could see it.
In spite of her request, he could not help opening the packet that night when he went to bed. It was a little purse: and there was was money in it.
Bright rose the sun next morning, from his absence in strange countries and up rose Walter with it to receive the Captain, who was already at the door: having turned out earlier than was necessary, in order to get under weigh while Mrs MacStinger was still slumbering. The Captain pretended to be in tip-top spirits, and brought a very smoky tongue in one of the pockets of the of the broad blue coat for breakfast.
'And, Wal'r,' said the Captain, when they took their seats at table, if your Uncle's the man I think him, he'll bring out the last bottle of the Madeira on the present occasion.'
'No, no, Ned,' returned the old man. 'No! That shall be opened when Walter comes home again.'
'Well said!' cried the Captain. 'Hear him!'
'There it lies,' said Sol Gills, 'down in the little cellar, covered with dirt and cobwebs. There may be dirt and cobwebs over you and me perhaps, Ned, before it sees the light.'
'Hear him! 'cried the Captain. 'Good morality! Wal'r, my lad. Train up a fig-tree in the way it should go, and when you are old sit under the shade on it. Overhaul the - Well,' said the Captain on second thoughts, 'I ain't quite certain where that's to be found, but when found, make a note of. Sol Gills, heave ahead again!'
'But there or somewhere, it shall lie, Ned, until Wally comes back to claim it,' said the old man. 'That's all I meant to say.'
'And well said too,' returned the Captain; 'and if we three don't crack that bottle in company, I'll give you two leave to.'
Notwithstanding the Captain's excessive joviality, he made but a poor hand at the smoky tongue, though he tried very hard, when anybody looked at him, to appear as if he were eating with a vast apetite. He was terribly afraid, likewise, of being left alone with either Uncle or nephew; appearing to consider that his only chance of safety as to keeping up appearances, was in there being always three together. This terror on the part of the Captain, reduced him to such ingenious evasions as running to the door, when Solomon went to put his coat on, under pretence of having seen an extraordinary hackney-coach pass: and darting out into the road when Walter went upstairs to take leave of the lodgers, on a feint of smelling fire in a neighbouring chimney. These artifices Captain Cuttle deemed inscrutable by any uninspired observer.
Walter was coming down from his parting expedition upstairs, and was crossing the shop to go back to the little parlour, when he saw a faded face he knew, looking in at the door, and darted towards it.
'Mr Carker!' cried Walter, pressing the hand of John Carker the Junior. 'Pray come in! This is kind of you, to be here so early to say good-bye to me. You knew how glad it would make me to shake hands with you, once, before going away. I cannot say how glad I am to have this opportunity. Pray come in.'
'It is not likely that we may ever meet again, Walter,' returned the other, gently resisting his invitation, 'and I am glad of this opportunity too. I may venture to speak to you, and to take you by the hand, on the eve of separation. I shall not have to resist your frank approaches, Walter, any more.
There was a melancholy in his smile as he said it, that showed he had found some company and friendship for his thoughts even in that.
'Ah, Mr Carker!' returned Walter. 'Why did you resist them? You could have done me nothing but good, I am very sure.
He shook his head. 'If there were any good,' he said, 'I could do on this earth, I would do it, Walter, for you. The sight of you from day to day, has been at once happiness and remorse to me. But the pleasure has outweighed the pain. I know that, now, by knowing what I lose.'
'Come in, Mr Carker, and make acquaintance with my good old Uncle,' urged Walter. 'I have often talked to him about you, and he will be glad to tell you all he hears from me. I have not,' said Walter, noticing his hesitation, and speaking with embarrassment himself: 'I have not told him anything about our last conversation, Mr Carker; not even him, believe me.
The grey Junior pressed his hand, and tears rose in his eyes.
'If I ever make acquaintance with him, Walter,' he returned, 'it will be that I may hear tidings of you. Rely on my not wronging your forbearance and consideration. It would be to wrong it, not to tell him all the truth, before I sought a word of confidence from him. But I have no friend or acquaintance except you: and even for your sake, am little likely to make any.'
'I wish,' said Walter, 'you had suffered me to be your friend indeed. I always wished it, Mr Carker, as you know; but never half so much as now, when we are going to part'
'It is enough replied the other, 'that you have been the friend of my own breast, and that when I have avoided you most, my heart inclined the most towards you, and was fullest of you. Walter, good-bye!'
'Good-bye, Mr Carker. Heaven be with you, Sir!' cried Walter with emotion.
'If,' said the other, retaining his hand while he spoke; 'if when you come back, you miss me from my old corner, and should hear from anyone where I am lying, come and look upon my grave. Think that I might have been as honest and as happy as you! And let me think, when I know time is coming on, that some one like my former self may stand there, for a moment, and remember me with pity and forgiveness! Walter, good-bye!'
His figure crept like a shadow down the bright, sun-lighted street, so cheerful yet so solemn in the early summer morning; and slowly passed away.
The relentless chronometer at last announced that Walter must turn his back upon the wooden Midshipman: and away they went, himself, his Uncle, and the Captain, in a hackney-coach to a wharf, where they were to take steam-boat for some Reach down the river, the name of which, as the Captain gave it out, was a hopeless mystery to the ears of landsmen. Arrived at this Reach (whither the ship had repaired by last night's tide), they were boarded by various excited watermen, and among others by a dirty Cyclops of the Captain's acquaintance, who, with his one eye, had made the Captain out some mile and a half off, and had been exchanging unintelligible roars with him ever since. Becoming the lawful prize of this personage, who was frightfully hoarse and constitutionally in want of shaving, they were all three put aboard the Son and Heir. And the Son and Heir was in a pretty state of confusion, with sails lying all bedraggled on the wet decks, loose ropes tripping people up, men in red shirts running barefoot to and fro, casks blockading every foot of space, and, in the thickest of the fray, a black cook in a black caboose up to his eyes in vegetables and blinded with smoke.
The Captain immediately drew Walter into a corner, and with a great effort, that made his face very red, pulled up the silver watch, which was so big, and so tight in his pocket, that it came out like a bung.
'Wal'r,' said the Captain, handing it over, and shaking him heartily by the hand, 'a parting gift, my lad. Put it back half an hour every morning, and about another quarter towards the arternoon, and it's a watch that'll do you credit.'
'Captain Cuttle! I couldn't think of it!' cried Walter, detaining him, for he was running away. 'Pray take it back. I have one already.'
'Then, Wal'r,' said the Captain, suddenly diving into one of his pockets and bringing up the two teaspoons and the sugar-tongs, with which he had armed himself to meet such an objection, 'take this here trifle of plate, instead.'
'No, no, I couldn't indeed!' cried Walter, 'a thousand thanks! Don't throw them away, Captain Cuttle!' for the Captain was about to jerk them overboard. 'They'll be of much more use to you than me. Give me your stick. I have often thought I should like to have it. There! Good-bye, Captain Cuttle! Take care of my Uncle! Uncle Sol, God bless you!'
They were over the side in the confusion, before Walter caught another glimpse of either; and when he ran up to the stern, and looked after them, he saw his Uncle hanging down his head in the boat, and Captain Cuttle rapping him on the back with the great silver watch (it must have been very painful), and gesticulating hopefully with the teaspoons and sugar-tongs. Catching sight of Walter, Captain Cuttle dropped the property into the bottom of the boat with perfect unconcern, being evidently oblivious of its existence, and pulling off the glazed hat hailed him lustily. The glazed hat made quite a show in the sun with its glistening, and the Captain continued to wave it until he could be seen no longer. Then the confusion on board, which had been rapidly increasing, reached its height; two or three other boats went away with a cheer; the sails shone bright and full above, as Walter watched them spread their surface to the favourable breeze; the water flew in sparkles from the prow; and off upon her voyage went the Son and Heir, as hopefully and trippingly as many another son and heir, gone down, had started on his way before her.
Day after day, old Sol and Captain Cuttle kept her reckoning in the little hack parlour and worked out her course, with the chart spread before them on the round table. At night, when old Sol climbed upstairs, so lonely, to the attic where it sometimes blew great guns, he looked up at the stars and listened to the wind, and kept a longer watch than would have fallen to his lot on board the ship. The last bottle of the old Madeira, which had had its cruising days, and known its dangers of the deep, lay silently beneath its dust and cobwebs, in the meanwhile, undisturbed.
仪器制造商门口的木制海军军官候补生就像铁石心肠的小海军军官候补生一样，对沃尔特的离别一直极为漠不关心，甚至当沃尔特有后客厅逗留的最后一天即将消逝时也依然一样。象限仪紧挨着他像肉瘤般的一只圆鼓鼓的黑眼睛，身形像往日一样呈现出一副朝气蓬勃、不屈不挠的姿态，海军军官候补生尽量炫耀着他的像小精灵般的短裤，并埋头于科学研究，对于世俗的忧虑没有丝毫同情。他是个受环境支配的人儿；气候干燥的日子，他满身尘土；薄雾弥漫的日子，他身上复盖着点点煤烟的碎屑；下雨的日子，他失去了光泽的制服顿时焕然一新，闪闪发亮；炎热的日子，他的皮肤被晒出泡来；但是他在其他方面却是个麻木不仁、冷酷无情、自高自大的海军军官候补生，专心致志于自己的发现，对周围尘世间发生的事情不闻不问，就像阿基米得①在叙拉古被围时一样。
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①阿基米得（Archimedes，约公元前287—212年）：古希腊数学家和物理学家，理论力学的创始人，生于西西里岛的叙拉古城（Syracuse，当时是希腊的殖民城市）。当叙拉古开始被罗马人围困时，他正专心研究数学，不知道外面发生的战争。
至少，在目前家中发生大事的情况下，他就是这样的一位海军军官候补生。沃尔特进进出出时向他亲切地定神看了许多次；当沃尔特不在家时，可怜的老所尔就出来靠在门柱上，把他那疲倦的戴着假发的脑袋尽量挨近这位他的店铺与营业的天才守卫者的鞋扣；可是海军军官候补生对这些向他作出的亲热殷勤的表示完全无动于衷，就像那残忍凶猛的偶像一样，嘴巴咧得大大的，由鹦鹉羽毛做成的脸孔露出一副杀气腾腾的凶相，对于他那些尚未开化的崇拜者们的恳求根本漠不关心。
沃尔特环视着他居住多年的卧室，向上望到女儿墙和烟囱；天已经黑了，这时他想到这个夜晚过去，他就要跟它也许永久分离，心情感到沉重不堪。他的一些书籍和图画已经搬走，卧室由于他的遗弃，冷淡地、责备地望着他，并早已对他未来的疏远投下了阴影。“再过几个小时之后，”沃尔特想，“这个房间就不再属于我了，就像我当小学生时在这里做过的梦一样不再属于我了一样。在我睡觉的时候，梦也许还会回来，我也许还会醒着回到这个地方，但这梦至少不会回到新的主人的脑子里去了；这房间今后也许会有二十个新主人，他们每个人也许都会改变它、冷落它或不正当地使用它。”
可是，不能让舅舅独自待在后面的小客厅里。这时，他正一个人坐在那里呢，因为卡特尔船长虽然性格粗犷，但却很能体贴人，他这时故意违背自己的心愿，没有来到，为的是使他们舅甥两人在没有旁人在场的情况下一块儿聊聊。所以，沃尔特经过最后一天的奔忙以后一回到家里，就急忙下楼去陪伴他。
“舅舅，”他把一只手搁在老人的肩膀上，快乐地说道，“我从巴巴多斯给你送些什么东西来呢？”
“把希望送来，我亲爱的沃利。在我进坟墓以前我们还能再见面的希望。你给我尽量多送一些来吧。”
“我会给你送来的，舅舅。这样的希望我多得很，不会舍不得送给你的！至于活的海龟，给卡特尔船长配制潘趣酒的柠檬，给你星期天吃的罐头食品以及其他这一类东西，等我发了财，我会整船整船给你送来的。”
老所尔擦了擦眼镜，无力地微笑着。
“这就对了，舅舅！”沃尔特愉快地喊道，又在他肩膀上拍了六下，“你鼓舞我！我鼓舞你！我们将像明天早上的云雀一样快乐，舅舅，我们将像它们一样飞得那么高！至于我的希望嘛，它现在正在望不到的高空中歌唱着呢。”
“沃利，我亲爱的孩子，”老人回答道，“我将尽我最大的努力，我将尽我最大的努力。”
“你说到你最大的努力，舅舅，”沃尔特高兴地笑着说，“那肯定是最好的努力。舅舅，你不会忘记你将送给我的东西吧？”
“不会的，沃利，不会的，”老人回答道，“我听到有关董贝小姐的一切，我将会写信告诉你。可怜的小羊羔，她现在单独一个人了。不过，我怕我听到的不多，沃利。”
“啊，舅舅，这我就要告诉你，”沃尔特迟疑了片刻，说道，“我刚刚到那里去啦。”
“啊，是吗？”老人扬起眉毛，同时也举起眼镜，说道。
“我不是去看她，”沃尔特说，“虽然我敢说，如果我要求的话，我就能见到她，因为董贝先生不在家。我是去跟苏珊说句告别的话。你知道，在当前的情况下，同时如果记得我上次见到董贝小姐的那一天的话，我是可以大胆那么做的。”
“是的，我的孩子，是的，”他的舅舅从暂时的出神中惊醒过来，回答道。
“这样，我就见到了她，”沃尔特继续说道，“我是说苏珊；我告诉她我明天就要走了。我还跟她说，舅舅，自从董贝小姐那天夜里到这里来以后，你一直很关心她，一直在祝她健康和幸福，而且总以能稍稍为她效劳而感到自豪和高兴。你知道，在当前的情况下，我是可以这样说的。你觉得是不是？”
“是的，我的孩子，是的，”他的舅舅用刚才同样的声调回答道。
“我还要再说一句，”沃尔特继续说，“如果她——我是说苏珊——由她本人，或通过理查兹大嫂或其他顺便路过这里的什么人，在什么时候，让你知道，董贝小姐健康和幸福的话，那么你将会十分感谢她的好意，并会写信告诉我，我也将会十分感谢她的好意的。好啦，全说完了。说实在的，舅舅，”沃尔特说，“昨天我因为想这件事情几乎一整夜没睡着觉；而我一出门又下不定决心，究竟去不去做这件事；可是我相信我内心的真实感情，如果我不把它表达出来的话，那么我以后一定会很痛苦的。”
他的诚实的声音和神态表明他所说的话是完全真实的，而且是坦诚的。
“因此，舅舅，如果你什么时候见到她，”沃尔特说，“我现在是说董贝小姐，——也许你会见到她的，谁知道呢！——就请你告诉她，我对她怀着多大的好感；当我在这里的时候，我一直多么想着她，在我离开前一天的夜里，舅舅，我是多么热泪盈眶地谈到她。请你告诉她，我说，我永远不会忘记她那温柔的举止，她那美丽的容貌或她那胜过一切的可爱的、善良的性情。因为这两只鞋我并不是从一个女人的脚上，也不是从一个姑娘的脚上，而只是从一个天真的小孩的脚上得到的，”沃尔特说，“舅舅，如果你不介意，就请你告诉她，我保存着这双鞋子——她会记得，那天夜里它们跌落了多少次——，并把它们当作纪念品随身带走了！”
就在这个时候，它们被装在沃尔特的一只箱子里被搬到门口。一个搬运工人正在把他的行李搬到一辆货车上，以便运到码头，装上“儿子和继承人”号；当它们的主人还没有讲完话的时候，它们已在冷淡无情的海军军官候补生的眼前被推走了。
但是那位以往的海员对运走的珍宝所表现出的冷淡无情的态度也许是情有可原的。因为，使他大吃一惊的是，就在这同一个时刻，就在他的视野圈内，就在他的眼皮底下，弗洛伦斯和苏珊•尼珀已完全进入了他高度警惕的监视范围之中。弗洛伦斯不无胆怯地望着他的脸，碰见了他那紧张惊骇的木头眼光！
不仅如此，她们还走进店铺，到了客厅的门口，除了海军军官候补生外，没有任何人注意到她们。沃尔特这时背对着门，如果不是看见舅舅从椅子中跳起来、几乎跌到另一张椅子上的话，连他当时也根本不会知道她们像幽灵似地突然来临。
“怎么了，舅舅！”沃尔特大声喊道，“出了什么事？”
老所罗门回答道：“董贝小姐！”
“可能吗？”沃尔特喊道，一边四下环视，现在轮到他跳起来了，“到这里来了？”
对了，这不仅是可能的，而且是千真万确的事实。他的话音未落，弗洛伦斯已急忙从他的身边跑过去，把所尔舅舅的鼻烟色的翻领的两边分别握在两只手中，吻了吻他的脸颊，然后转过身来，以她那独有的十分纯朴、真诚、恳切的神情，把手伸向沃尔特，这种神情确是世界上其他人所没有的！
“要离开这里了吗，沃尔特？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“是的，董贝小姐，”他回答道，但不像他努力想要表示出的那么乐观开朗，“我将外出航行。”
“您的舅舅，”弗洛伦斯又回过来望着所罗门，说道，“您出去他一定感到难过。唉，我看他是这样的！亲爱的沃尔特，我也感到很难过。”
“天知道，”尼珀姑娘高声嚷道，“世界上有许多人，我们没有他们也行，如果要精明善算的人，派皮普钦太太去当监工，称黄金，准能买到便宜的黄金，如果需要对付黑奴的知识，布林伯他们这家人就是最合适的人选。”
尼珀小姐一边说，一边解开帽带，接着向桌子上和其他家常茶具摆在一起的一只小黑茶壶里面发呆地看了一会儿，然后摇摇头，又摇摇洋铁皮的茶叶罐，没经人请就泡起茶来。
在这期间，弗洛伦斯又转向了仪器制造商；他对她极为赞赏，又感到极为惊奇。“长得这么大了！”老所尔说，“长得这么漂亮！可是一点没有变！跟原先一模一样！”
“真的吗？”弗洛伦斯说。
“是——是的，”老所尔回答道，一边慢吞吞地搓着手，低声地思考着这个问题，这时那双向他望着的明亮的眼睛中的沉思的神情吸引了他的注意，“是的，过去那张更年轻的脸上也曾表露过这样的神情！”
“您还记得我哪，”弗洛伦斯微笑着说道，“那时候我是个多么小的小人儿啊？”
“我亲爱的小姐，”仪器制造商回答道，“我怎么能忘记您呢？从那时起，我多么经常地想到您，多么经常地听到您的消息！说真的，就在您进来的时候，沃利还正在跟我谈起您，给您留下口信，还——”
“真的吗？”弗洛伦斯说道，“谢谢您，沃尔特！啊，谢谢您，沃尔特！我还怕您走了以后不会再想到我了呢。”接着她又无拘无束、充分信任地向沃尔特伸出小手；他把它在自己手中握了好几秒钟，舍不得放开。
可是沃尔特并不像先前那样握它，这样的接触也没有唤醒过去童年时代的那些白日梦，甚至最近这些梦有时还会从他面前漂浮过去，并以它们那模糊不清、支离破碎的形状使他心烦意乱。她那天真纯洁、可亲可爱的神态，她在专注的眼光中深切表露出的以及在俊俏的脸上通过微笑（这微笑太悲哀了，它在她脸上投下了阴影，不能使它容光焕发）洋溢着的对他的完全信任与真诚关怀，所有这些都不是浪漫性质的。它们使他回想起了他曾看到她殷勤看护的那张夭逝的小床，回想起了那男孩对她所怀的热爱，靠着这些回忆的翅膀，她似乎已远远地超越了他的那些胡思乱想，飞升到那更为明净、更为宁静的高空之中了。
“我——我想，我得管您叫沃尔特的舅舅，先生，”弗洛伦斯对老人说，“如果您允许的话。”
“我亲爱的小姐，”老所尔喊道，“如果我允许的话！我的上帝！”
“我们常常是以这个称呼来了解您和谈起您的，”弗洛伦斯向四周看了一眼，轻轻地叹气道，“可爱的老客厅！完全跟先前一模一样！我把它记得多么清楚啊！”
老所尔先看看她，又看看他的外甥，然后搓搓手，又擦擦眼镜，低声说道，“唉，时间啊，时间啊，时间啊！”
接着是短暂的沉默；在这段时间中苏珊•尼珀灵巧地从碗柜里取出了两只带碟子的茶杯，并以若有所思的神气等待着泡茶。
“我想跟沃尔特的舅舅说点我很担心的事，”弗洛伦斯胆怯地把手放在老人搁在桌子上的手上，以便引起他的注意，说道，“他很快就要单独一个人了，如果他允许我——不是代替沃尔特，因为那是我做不到的，而是在沃尔特不在的时候成为他的真诚的朋友，并尽我的力量来帮助他，那我就会十分感谢他。您肯允许我吗？我可以吗，沃尔特舅舅？”
仪器制造商默默无言地把她的手拉到他的嘴唇上。苏珊•尼珀两手交叉，背靠在她自行充任的主席的椅子上，这时咬着帽带的一端，仰望着天窗，轻轻地叹了口气。
“如果我可能的话，那么请允许我来看您，”弗洛伦斯说，“那时请您告诉我您自己和沃尔特的一切事情；如果苏珊代替我来的话，那么就请您不要对她保守秘密，请您信任我们，信赖我们，依靠我们。请您设法让我们成为您的安慰，您愿意吗，沃尔特的舅舅？”
那张望着他的可爱的脸孔，那双关切的恳求的眼睛，那个温柔的声音，以及她在他胳膊上轻轻的抚摸，本来就使她显得十分亲切可爱，再加上女孩子对他年龄所怀有的崇敬与尊重，这就使她更加得人欢心，当时她表露出一种优雅得体的疑惑不定的神情和由于谦虚羞怯而犹豫不决的神情——所有这一切，以及她那出乎天性的恳切的态度，完全征服了这位可怜的年老的仪器制造商，他只是回答道：
“沃利，为我说一句话吧，我亲爱的，我太感激了。”
“不，沃尔特，”弗洛伦斯平静地微笑着回答道，“请您一句话也不要为他说。我很了解他，我们必须学会在您不在场的时候相互交谈，亲爱的沃尔特。”
她说最后几个字时惋惜的声调比其他的一切更使他感动。
“弗洛伦斯小姐，”他努力恢复刚才跟舅舅谈话时所保持的高兴的神态，回答道，“说真的，我跟舅舅一样，不知道说些什么话来感谢您的深情厚意。可是即使我能说上一个小时，我除了说这再一次表明了您的为人之外，我究竟还能说些别的什么呢？”
苏珊•尼珀开始咬她帽带另外的一端，并向天窗点点头，表示赞成沃尔特表达出来的感情。
“啊，沃尔特，”弗洛伦斯说道，“可是在您走之前，我还想跟您再说些话，请你一定管我叫弗洛伦斯，而不要像一个陌生人那样跟我说话。”
“像一个陌生人一样！”沃尔特答道，“不，我不能那样说的。我相信，至少我没有这样的感觉。”
“是的，但是那样还不够，我也不是这个意思。因为，沃尔特，”弗洛伦斯眼泪满满地涌流出来，继续说道，“他很喜欢您，临死的时候还说他爱您，又说，‘别忘记沃尔特！’现在他已死了，我在世界上没有兄弟了，如果您做我的哥哥，沃尔特，我将一辈子做您的妹妹，不论我们将来在什么地方，我都会像想到哥哥那样想到您！这就是我想要说的，亲爱的沃尔特，可是我却不能说得像我想说的那样好，因为千言万语充满了我的心怀，我不知该说什么好。”
她怀着那颗充满了感情、纯朴可爱的心，把双手向他伸过去。沃尔特握着它们，弯下身子，嘴唇接触到她的流满了眼泪的脸；当他这样做的时候，她的脸没有退缩，没有转开，也没有发红，而是信赖地、真诚地仰望着他。在那瞬刻之间，任何怀疑或焦虑的阴影都从沃尔特的心灵中消失了；他似乎觉得，他是在那死去的孩子的床边回答她的天真的请求，并且在那个他曾亲眼看到的庄严的场合中发誓说，在他放逐在外的时候，他将以他兄弟般的关怀，珍爱和保护她的形象；他将保持她纯朴的信任，不让遭到破坏；如果他怀有任何当她对他表示信任时心中不曾怀有的思想，因而辜负了这样的信任时，他就认为自己卑鄙可耻。
苏珊•尼珀在这过程中已经同时咬住帽带的两端，并向天窗传送了她本人的许多感情，这时她改变话题，问大家谁要牛奶，谁要糖；这些问题得到回答以后，她就开始倒茶。他们四人和睦友爱地围坐在小桌子的旁边，在那位姑娘殷勤的指挥下开始喝茶；弗洛伦斯光临后客厅，使墙上带帆的鞑靼战舰发出了光辉。
半个小时以前，沃尔特无论如何也不敢放肆地用她的名字喊她。可是现在只要她请求，他就可以这样喊她。当他想到她来到这里的时候，不仅又在暗暗地担心：如果她不来反而更好。他可以平静地想到她长得多么美，想到多么大有希望，想到有朝一日某一位幸福的男子在她这样一颗心中将会得到多少缱绻柔情。他可以自豪地想到他在这颗心中也占有一席之地；并毅然下定决心，如果他现在还不配得到它的话——他仍然认为它高不可攀——他决不能在将来比现在更不配得到它。
一定有什么神力支配着苏珊•尼珀倒茶的手，并产生了笼罩着后客厅中喝茶谈话时的平静的气氛。一定又有什么敌对的魔力支配着精密计时表的指针，使它们走得比永远在顺风中航行的鞑靼战舰还快。不管怎么样，客人们是有一辆轿式马车在一个不远的安静的角落里等待着的；当他们偶尔看到精密计时表时，它确凿地指明，马车已经等待得很长久了；这个事实是不容怀疑的，当它由这样一个无可指责的权威说明时尤其如此。如果所尔舅舅要按照他自己的时间处以绞刑的话，那么他也不会承认这精密计时表走快了一秒钟的万分之一。
弗洛伦斯在离别时又把所有她刚才说过的话向老人扼要地重说了一遍，并要他保证遵守他们所达成的协议。所尔舅舅亲切地陪她走到木制海军军官候补生的腿边，在那里把她交给沃尔特；沃尔特欣然地护送着她与苏珊，向马车走去。
“沃尔特，”弗洛伦斯在路上说道，“我刚才当着你舅舅的面不敢问您。您认为您将离开很久吗？”
“说实在的，”沃尔特说，“我也不知道。我怕会这样。董贝先生指派我的时候，我觉得他表示了这样的意思。”
“这是不是对您的一种恩惠，沃尔特？”弗洛伦斯迟疑了片刻后问道，同时忧虑地望着他的脸。
“您是指这次指派吗？”沃尔特反问道。
“是的。”
沃尔特非常想给予肯定的回答，但是他的脸色比他的嘴回答得早，弗洛伦斯又是那么注意地观察着，所以她不可能不理解它的回答。
“我怕您不是我爸爸所宠爱的人，”她胆怯地说道。
“没有什么理由我必须是，”沃尔特微笑着回答道。
“没有理由吗，沃尔特？”
“过去没有什么理由，”沃尔特明白她的意思，说道，“公司里雇用着许多人。在董贝先生和像我这样的一个年轻人之间，有着一个很宽阔的距离。如果我尽我的职责，我就做我应当做的事，而不做任何其他有情。”
在弗洛伦斯心上是不是有着她还不怎么意识到的忧虑，是不是自从最近那天夜间她走到楼下她父亲房间去以后她心中产生出一种模糊不清和不可名状的忧虑：沃尔特由于偶然的原因对她产生兴趣以及过早地认识她，这会引起她父亲对他强烈的不快和讨厌？在沃尔特心中是不是也有这样的想法，或者突然想到在这个时刻她的心中也正在这么想？在短短的一段时间中，他们两人谁也没有说话。走在沃尔特另一边的苏珊敏锐地注视着他们两人；尼珀姑娘的思想肯定也朝着那个方向转悠，并且十分相信自己的看法是正确的。
“您可能很快就会回来的，”弗洛伦斯说道，“也许会这样的，沃尔特。”
“我可能回来时已成了个老头子了，”沃尔特说道，“并且看到您已成了个老太太了。不过我往好里希望。”
“爸爸，”弗洛伦斯沉默了片刻之后说，“也许会——会从悲痛中恢复过来，有一天会——更无拘无束地跟我说话；如果那样的话，那么我将告诉他，我是多么希望看到您重新回来，并请求他为了我的缘故把您调回来。”
她谈到她父亲的这些话声调压抑，缺乏信心，令人感动，沃尔特听得很明白。
马车就在近旁，他本来会默默无言地跟她分手的，因为他这时真正感觉到离别的滋味了；可是弗洛伦斯坐下以后握住他的手，这时他觉得她手中有一个小包包。
“沃尔特，”她用感情深厚的眼光望着他的脸，说道，“我像您一样，也希望有美好的将来。我将祈求它，相信它会来临。我为保罗准备了这个小小的礼物，请随同我的爱把它拿走吧，在您离别之前别去看它。愿上帝保佑您，沃尔特！千万别忘记我。您是我的哥哥呀，亲爱的！”
他感到高兴的是，苏珊•尼珀这时走到他们中间，要不然他就会给她留下一个关于他的悲伤的回忆了。他又感到高兴的是，她没有再从马车里往外望，而是向他挥着小手，一直到他望不见为止。
他在当天夜里睡觉之前，不顾她的请求，还是忍不住把那小包包打开了。这是个小小的钱包，里面装着钱。
第二天早晨，太阳从异国他乡返回，光辉灿烂地升起，沃尔特也随同它一道起来，去迎接早已在门口的船长。船长本不需要这么早就起床，但他是为了在麦克斯廷杰太太还在睡觉的时候就上路才这么做的；他假装情绪高昂，在他宽大的蓝色外衣的一个口袋中带来一条熏得很黑的舌头作为早餐。
“沃尔，”当他们在桌旁坐下的时候，船长说道，“如果你舅舅是我所想的那种人，遇上今天这样的日子，他是会取出他最后的那瓶马德拉白葡萄酒的。”
“不，不，内德，”老人回答道，“不，那瓶酒等沃尔特重新回到家里时再打开。”
“说得好！”船长喊道，“听他说吧！”
“它躺在那里，”所尔•吉尔斯说，“躺在下面的小地窖里，上面覆盖着尘土和蜘蛛网。在它重见阳光之前，内德，也许你和我身上也已覆盖着尘土和蜘蛛网了。”
“听他说吧！”船长喊道，“极妙的寓意！沃尔，我的孩子，栽一株无花果，让它好好长大，等你老了，就坐在树荫下休息。翻一下——不过，”船长想了一下，说，“我不能很肯定从哪本书里可以找到这句话；可是你要是收到的话，请把它记下来。所尔•吉尔斯。重新往前用力拉吧①！”
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①这是水手在起锚时的劳动号子，船长借用它来要所尔•吉尔斯继续往下说。
“可是它得躺在那里或别的什么地方，内德，直到沃利回来要求喝它的时候，”老人说道，“这就是我所想要说的一切。”
“说得也不错，”船长回答道，“如果我们三人不能一起打开那瓶酒的话，那么我允许你们两人把我的那份也喝掉！”
船长虽然谈笑风生，十分兴高采烈，但他对付那条熏黑的舌头的本领却怪差劲，尽管当有人看着他的时候，他极力装出胃口很好地吃着。而且，他很害怕和舅舅或外甥单独在一起，好像他认为，他要保持这种春风满面的神态，唯一安全的机会是三个人老待在一起。船长由于怀有这种恐惧心理，他就想出了好些机智的逃避方法：当所罗门走去穿外衣的时候，他就假装看到一辆不同寻常的出租马车经过而跑到门口；当沃尔特上楼去跟房客们告别时，他就假装闻到邻近烟囱的火焦味而冲到街上。船长认为，没有灵感的观察者是很难看破他的这些巧计的。
沃尔特去楼上告别之后走下楼来，正穿过店铺向小客厅走回的时候，他看到一张他认识的憔悴的脸正向门里探望，就立即向他急冲过去。
“卡克先生！”沃尔特紧握着约翰•卡克先生的手，喊道，“请进来吧！您真客气，起得这么早来向我告别。您知道，我多么高兴能在离别之前再跟您握一次手啊。我说不出我是多么高兴能有这个机会。请进来吧！”
“我们不见得以后还能再见面了，沃尔特，”那一位委婉地谢绝了他的邀请，“我也因为有这个机会而感到高兴。在即将离别之前，我也许可以不揣冒昧地来跟您说说话和握握手。
沃尔特，我将不再迫不得已反对您坦率地跟我接近了”。
当他说这些话的时候，在他的微笑中还带有一些忧郁的东西，这表明他甚至在沃尔特要跟他接近的想法本身中也看到了关怀与友谊。
“唉，卡克先生！”沃尔特回答道，“您为什么要反对呢？
我完全相信，您只会做对我有益的事情。”
他摇摇头。“如果在这世界上我能做点儿什么有益事情的话，那么我将会为您做的。我一天天看到您，对我来说，既感到快乐，又引起悔恨。但是高兴超过了痛苦。现在我明白了这一点，因为我知道我失去什么了。”
“请进来吧，卡克先生，来跟我善良的年老的舅舅认识认识吧，”沃尔特催促着，“我常常跟他说到您，他将会高兴把从我那里听到的一切告诉您；我没有，”沃尔特注意到他的迟疑，他自己也感到局促不安地说道，“我没有跟他说起我们上次谈话的内容，什么也没有说；卡克先生；甚至对他我也不说，请相信我。”
这位头发斑白的低级职员紧握着他的手，眼睛里涌出了泪水。
“如果我什么时候跟他认识，沃尔特，”他回答道，“那么那只是为了可以从他那里打听到您的消息。请相信我决不会对不起您对我的宽容与关心。如果我在取得他的信任之前不把全部真情告诉他，那么我就对不起您的宽容与关心了。但是我除了您，没有别的朋友或熟人；甚至为了您的缘故我也未必会去找。”
“我希望，”沃尔特说，“您已真正允许我做您的朋友。卡克先生；您知道，我经常是这样希望的；可是这希望从不曾像现在我们就要分别的时候这么强烈。”
“您一直是我心里的朋友，当我愈是避开您的时候，我的心就愈是向着您，愈是一心一意地想着您——我想这就够了。
沃尔特，再见吧！”
“再见吧，卡克先生，愿老天爷保佑您，先生！”沃尔特激动地喊道。
“如果，”那一位继续握着他的手说道，“如果您回来时，在我原先的角落里看不到我，并从别人那里打听到我躺在什么地方的话，那么请来看看我的坟墓吧。请想一想，我本来是可以跟您一样诚实和幸福的！当我知道我的死期就要来临的时候，请让我想到，有一位像我过去一样的人会在那里站上片刻，怀着怜悯与宽恕的心情记得我的！沃尔特，再见吧！”
夏日清晨的街道布满了阳光，明明亮亮，那么令人爽心悦目，又那么庄严肃穆；他的身形像一个影子似的，沿着这条街道缓慢地移行着，最后消失不见了。
毫不留情的精密计时表终于宣告：沃尔特必须离别木制海军军官候补生了。他们——他自己、舅舅和船长——乘着一辆出租马车动身前往码头，再从码头搭乘汽艇到河流下面的一个河段；当船长说出它的名称时，陆地上的人们听起来真像是个不可思议、神奇莫测的秘密。当汽艇乘着昨夜的涨潮，开到这个河段之后，他们被一群情绪兴奋的划小船的船家团团围住，里面有一位是船长认识的肮脏的赛克洛普斯①；他虽然只有一只眼睛，但在一英里半之外就认出了船长，从那时起就跟他交换着难以理解的么喝。这位胡子拉碴、嗓子嘶哑得可怕的人，把他们三人当成了合法的战利品，运送到“儿子和继承人”号上。“儿子和继承人”号上十分混乱，沾着泥水的船帆被撂在湿漉漉的甲板上，没有拉紧的绳索把人们绊倒，穿着红衬衫的船员们赤着脚跑来跑去，木桶堵塞着每一小块空处；在这一切杂乱的中心，甲板上黑厨房中的一位黑厨师周围堆满了蔬菜，一直堆到他的眼睛底下，他的眼睛被烟薰得几乎失明。
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①赛克洛普斯（Cyclops）：希腊神话中的独眼巨人。
船长立即把沃尔特拉到一个角落里，脸孔涨得通红，使劲地拉出了那只银表；那只表很大，在他的衣袋中塞得又很紧，所以把它拉出的时候就像从桶口拔出个大塞子似的。
“沃尔，”船长把它递过去，并热烈地握着他的手说道，“这是告别的礼物，我的孩子。每天早上把它往后拨半小时，到中午再往后拨一刻钟左右。这只表是你可以引以自豪的。”
“卡特尔船长！我不能要这个！”沃尔特喊道，一边拦住他，因为他正要跑开。“请拿回去。我已经有一只了。”
“那么，沃尔，”船长突然把手伸进另一只口袋。取出两只茶匙和一副方糖箝子，他装备着这些东西就是为了防备遭到拒绝时用的。“就请改拿走这些喝茶用的小东西吧！”
“不，不，说真的，我不能拿走！”沃尔特喊道，“千谢万谢！别扔掉，卡特尔船长！”因为船长正想要把它们投掷到船外。“它们对您比对我有用得多。把您的手杖给我吧。我时常想，我要能有它该多好啊。唔，这就是！再见，卡特尔船长！
请照顾照顾舅舅吧！所尔舅舅，上帝保佑你！”
沃尔特没来得及再望他们一眼，他们已经在混乱之中离开大船了；当他跑到船尾，目送着他们的时候，他看见舅舅坐在小船里低垂着头，卡特尔船长用那只大银表拍打着他的背（那一定很痛），还精神抖擞地用茶匙和方糖箝子打着手势。卡特尔船长瞧见沃尔特时，显然忘记了他还有这些财产，漫不经心地把它们掉落到小船船底，同时脱下了上了光的帽子，拼命地向他欢呼。上了光的帽子在阳光下闪闪发光，大出风头，船长不断地挥舞着它，直到望不见沃尔特为止。船上一直在迅速增加的杂乱这时达到了高潮；另外两三只小船在欢呼声中离开；当沃尔特望着船帆在顺风中舒展开帆面的时候，船帆在上空明亮和丰满地闪耀着；浪花从船头飞溅过来；“儿子和继承人”号就这样雄赳赳气昂昂地、轻轻快快地启程航行，就像在它之前已经走上旅程的其他许多儿子和继承人一样，一直向前行进。
老所尔和卡特尔船长在小后客厅里一天天在圆桌上摊开地图，推算着船舶的航行距离，研究着它的航线。夜里，当老所尔十分孤独地走上楼去，一直走到有时大风猛刮的顶楼上时，他仰望着星星，静听着风声；如果让他在那艘船上值夜，也不会像他现在值得这么长久。那最后一瓶马德拉白葡萄酒曾经度过漂洋过海的日子，体验过海洋深处的危险，这时却安安静静地躺在尘土和蜘蛛网下面，谁也不去打搅它。
Chapter 20
Mr Dombey goes upon a Journey
'Mr Dombey, Sir,' said Major Bagstock, 'Joee' B. is not in general a man of sentiment, for Joseph is tough. But Joe has his feelings, Sir, and when they are awakened - Damme, Mr Dombey,? cried the Major with sudden ferocity, 'this is weakness, and I won't submit to it)'
Major Bagstock delivered himself of these expressions on receiving Mr Dombey as his guest at the head of his own staircase in Princess's Place. Mr Dombey had come to breakfast with the Major, previous to their setting forth on their trip; and the ill-starved Native had already undergone a world of misery arising out of the muffins, while, in connexion with the general question of boiled eggs, life was a burden to him.
'It is not for an old soldier of the Bagstock breed,' observed the Major, relapsing into a mild state, 'to deliver himself up, a prey to his own emotions; but - damme, Sir,' cried the Major, in another spasm of ferocity, 'I condole with you!'
The Major's purple visage deepened in its hue, and the Major's lobster eyes stood out in bolder relief, as he shook Mr Dombey by the hand, imparting to that peaceful action as defiant a character as if it had been the prelude to his immediately boxing Mr Dombey for a thousand pounds a side and the championship of England. With a rotatory motion of his head, and a wheeze very like the cough of a horse, the Major then conducted his visitor to the sitting-room, and there welcomed him (having now composed his feelings) with the freedom and frankness ofa travelling companion.
'Dombey,' said the Major, 'I'm glad to see you. I'm proud to see you. There are not many men in Europe to whom J. Bagstock would say that - for Josh is blunt. Sir: it's his nature - but Joey B. is proud to see you, Dombey.'
'Major,' returned Mr Dombey, 'you are very obliging.'
'No, Sir,' said the Major, 'Devil a bit! That's not my character. If that had been Joe's character, Joe might have been, by this time, Lieutenant-General Sir Joseph Bagstock, K.C.B., and might have received you in very different quarters. You don't know old Joe yet, I find. But this occasion, being special, is a source of pride to me. By the Lord, Sir,' said the Major resolutely, 'it's an honour to me!'
Mr Dombey, in his estimation of himself and his money, felt that this was very true, and therefore did not dispute the point. But the instinctive recognition of such a truth by the Major, and his plain avowal of it, were very able. It was a confirmation to Mr Dombey, if he had required any, of his not being mistaken in the Major. It was an assurance to him that his power extended beyond his own immediate sphere; and that the Major, as an officer and a gentleman, had a no less becoming sense of it, than the beadle of the Royal Exchange.
And if it were ever consolatory to know this, or the like of this, it was consolatory then, when the impotence of his will, the instability of his hopes, the feebleness of wealth, had been so direfully impressed upon him. What could it do, his boy had asked him. Sometimes, thinking of the baby question, he could hardly forbear inquiring, himself, what could it do indeed: what had it done?
But these were lonely thoughts, bred late at night in the sullen despondency and gloom of his retirement, and pride easily found its reassurance in many testimonies to the truth, as unimpeachable and precious as the Major's. Mr Dombey, in his friendlessness, inclined to the Major. It cannot be said that he warmed towards him, but he thawed a little, The Major had had some part - and not too much - in the days by the seaside. He was a man of the world, and knew some great people. He talked much, and told stories; and Mr Dombey was disposed to regard him as a choice spirit who shone in society, and who had not that poisonous ingredient of poverty with which choice spirits in general are too much adulterated. His station was undeniable. Altogether the Major was a creditable companion, well accustomed to a life of leisure, and to such places as that they were about to visit, and having an air of gentlemanly ease about him that mixed well enough with his own City character, and did not compete with it at all. If Mr Dombey had any lingering idea that the Major, as a man accustomed, in the way of his calling, to make light of the ruthless hand that had lately crushed his hopes, might unconsciously impart some useful philosophy to him, and scare away his weak regrets, he hid it from himself, and left it lying at the bottom of his pride, unexamined.
'Where is my scoundrel?' said the Major, looking wrathfully round the room.
The Native, who had no particular name, but answered to any vituperative epithet, presented himself instantly at the door and ventured to come no nearer.
'You villain!' said the choleric Major, 'where's the breakfast?'
The dark servant disappeared in search of it, and was quickly heard reascending the stairs in such a tremulous state, that the plates and dishes on the tray he carried, trembling sympathetically as he came, rattled again, all the way up.
'Dombey,' said the Major, glancing at the Native as he arranged the table, and encouraging him with an awful shake of his fist when he upset a spoon, 'here is a devilled grill, a savoury pie, a dish of kidneys, and so forth. Pray sit down. Old Joe can give you nothing but camp fare, you see.
'Very excellent fare, Major,' replied his guest; and not in mere politeness either; for the Major always took the best possible care of himself, and indeed ate rather more of rich meats than was good for him, insomuch that his Imperial complexion was mainly referred by the faculty to that circumstance.
'You have been looking over the way, Sir,' observed the Major. 'Have you seen our friend?'
'You mean Miss Tox,' retorted Mr Dombey. 'No.'
'Charming woman, Sir,' said the Major, with a fat laugh rising in his short throat, and nearly suffocating him.
'Miss Tox is a very good sort of person, I believe,' replied Mr Dombey.
The haughty coldness of the reply seemed to afford Major Bagstock infinite delight. He swelled and swelled, exceedingly: and even laid down his knife and fork for a moment, to rub his hands.
'Old Joe, Sir,' said the Major, 'was a bit ofa favourite in that quarter once. But Joe has had his day. J. Bagstock is extinguished - outrivalled - floored, Sir.'
'I should have supposed,' Mr Dombey replied, 'that the lady's day for favourites was over: but perhaps you are jesting, Major.'
'Perhaps you are jesting, Dombey?' was the Major's rejoinder.
There never was a more unlikely possiblity. It was so clearly expressed in Mr Dombey's face, that the Major apologised.
'I beg your pardon,' he said. 'I see you are in earnest. I tell you what, Dombey.' The Major paused in his eating, and looked mysteriously indignant. 'That's a de-vilish ambitious woman, Sir.'
Mr Dombey said 'Indeed?' with frigid indifference: mingled perhaps with some contemptuous incredulity as to Miss Tox having the presumption to harbour such a superior quality.
'That woman, Sir,' said the Major, 'is, in her way, a Lucifer. Joey B. has had his day, Sir, but he keeps his eyes. He sees, does Joe. His Royal Highness the late Duke of York observed of Joey, at a levee, that he saw.'
The Major accompanied this with such a look, and, between eating, drinking, hot tea, devilled grill, muffins, and meaning, was altogether so swollen and inflamed about the head, that even Mr Dombey showed some anxiety for him.
'That ridiculous old spectacle, Sir,' pursued the Major, 'aspires. She aspires sky-high, Sir. Matrimonially, Dombey.'
'I am sorry for her,' said Mr Dombey.
'Don't say that, Dombey,' returned the Major in a warning voice.
'Why should I not, Major?' said Mr Dombey.
The Major gave no answer but the horse's cough, and went on eating vigorously.
'She has taken an interest in your household,' said the Major, stopping short again, 'and has been a frequent visitor at your house for some time now.'
'Yes,' replied Mr Dombey with great stateliness, 'Miss Tox was originally received there, at the time of Mrs Dombey's death, as a friend of my sister's; and being a well-behaved person, and showing a liking for the poor infant, she was permitted - may I say encouraged - to repeat her visits with my sister, and gradually to occupy a kind of footing of familiarity in the family. I have,' said Mr Dombey, in the tone of a man who was making a great and valuable concession, 'I have a respect for Miss Tox. She his been so obliging as to render many little services in my house: trifling and insignificant services perhaps, Major, but not to be disparaged on that account: and I hope I have had the good fortune to be enabled to acknowledge them by such attention and notice as it has been in my power to bestow. I hold myself indebted to Miss Tox, Major,' added Mr Dombey, with a slight wave of his hand, 'for the pleasure of your acquaintance.'
'Dombey,' said the Major, warmly: 'no! No, Sir! Joseph Bagstock can never permit that assertion to pass uncontradicted. Your knowledge of old Joe, Sir, such as he is, and old Joe's knowledge of you, Sir, had its origin in a noble fellow, Sir - in a great creature, Sir. Dombey!' said the Major, with a struggle which it was not very difficult to parade, his whole life being a struggle against all kinds of apoplectic symptoms, 'we knew each other through your boy.'
Mr Dombey seemed touched, as it is not improbable the Major designed he should be, by this allusion. He looked down and sighed: and the Major, rousing himself fiercely, again said, in reference to the state of mind into which he felt himself in danger of falling, that this was weakness, and nothing should induce him to submit to it.
'Our friend had a remote connexion with that event,' said the Major, 'and all the credit that belongs to her, J. B. is willing to give her, Sir. Notwithstanding which, Ma'am,' he added, raising his eyes from his plate, and casting them across Princess's Place, to where Miss Tox was at that moment visible at her window watering her flowers, 'you're a scheming jade, Ma'am, and your ambition is a piece of monstrous impudence. If it only made yourself ridiculous, Ma'am,' said the Major, rolling his head at the unconscious Miss Tox, while his starting eyes appeared to make a leap towards her, 'you might do that to your heart's content, Ma'am, without any objection, I assure you, on the part of Bagstock.' Here the Major laughed frightfully up in the tips of his ears and in the veins of his head. 'But when, Ma'am,' said the Major, 'you compromise other people, and generous, unsuspicious people too, as a repayment for their condescension, you stir the blood of old Joe in his body.'
'Major,' said Mr Dombey, reddening, 'I hope you do not hint at anything so absurd on the part of Miss Tox as - '
'Dombey,' returned the Major, 'I hint at nothing. But Joey B. has lived in the world, Sir: lived in the world with his eyes open, Sir, and his ears cocked: and Joe tells you, Dombey, that there's a devilish artful and ambitious woman over the way.'
Mr Dombey involuntarily glanced over the way; and an angry glance he sent in that direction, too.
'That's all on such a subject that shall pass the lips of Joseph Bagstock,' said the Major firmly. 'Joe is not a tale-bearer, but there are times when he must speak, when he will speak! - confound your arts, Ma'am,' cried the Major, again apostrophising his fair neighbour, with great ire, - 'when the provocation is too strong to admit of his remaining silent.'
The emotion of this outbreak threw the Major into a paroxysm of horse's coughs, which held him for a long time. On recovering he added:
'And now, Dombey, as you have invited Joe - old Joe, who has no other merit, Sir, but that he is tough and hearty - to be your guest and guide at Leamington, command him in any way you please, and he is wholly yours. I don't know, Sir,' said the Major, wagging his double chin with a jocose air, 'what it is you people see in Joe to make you hold him in such great request, all of you; but this I know, Sir, that if he wasn't pretty tough, and obstinate in his refusals, you'd kill him among you with your invitations and so forth, in double-quick time.'
Mr Dombey, in a few words, expressed his sense of the preference he received over those other distinguished members of society who were clamouring for the possession of Major Bagstock. But the Major cut him short by giving him to understand that he followed his own inclinations, and that they had risen up in a body and said with one accord, 'J. B., Dombey is the man for you to choose as a friend.'
The Major being by this time in a state of repletion, with essence of savoury pie oozing out at the corners of his eyes, and devilled grill and kidneys tightening his cravat: and the time moreover approaching for the departure of the railway train to Birmingham, by which they were to leave town: the Native got him into his great-coat with immense difficulty, and buttoned him up until his face looked staring and gasping, over the top of that garment, as if he were in a barrel. The Native then handed him separately, and with a decent interval between each supply, his washleather gloves, his thick stick, and his hat; which latter article the Major wore with a rakish air on one side of his head, by way of toning down his remarkable visage. The Native had previously packed, in all possible and impossible parts of Mr Dombey's chariot, which was in waiting, an unusual quantity of carpet-bags and small portmanteaus, no less apoplectic in appearance than the Major himself: and having filled his own pockets with Seltzer water, East India sherry, sandwiches, shawls, telescopes, maps, and newspapers, any or all of which light baggage the Major might require at any instant of the journey, he announced that everything was ready. To complete the equipment of this unfortunate foreigner (currently believed to be a prince in his own country), when he took his seat in the rumble by the side of Mr Towlinson, a pile of the Major's cloaks and great-coats was hurled upon him by the landlord, who aimed at him from the pavement with those great missiles like a Titan, and so covered him up, that he proceeded, in a living tomb, to the railroad station.
But before the carriage moved away, and while the Native was in the act of sepulture, Miss Tox appearing at her window, waved a lilywhite handkerchief. Mr Dombey received this parting salutation very coldly - very coldly even for him - and honouring her with the slightest possible inclination of his head, leaned back in the carriage with a very discontented look. His marked behaviour seemed to afford the Major (who was all politeness in his recognition of Miss Tox) unbounded satisfaction; and he sat for a long time afterwards, leering, and choking, like an over-fed Mephistopheles.
During the bustle of preparation at the railway, Mr Dombey and the Major walked up and down the platform side by side; the former taciturn and gloomy, and the latter entertaining him, or entertaining himself, with a variety of anecdotes and reminiscences, in most of which Joe Bagstock was the principal performer. Neither of the two observed that in the course of these walks, they attracted the attention of a working man who was standing near the engine, and who touched his hat every time they passed; for Mr Dombey habitually looked over the vulgar herd, not at them; and the Major was looking, at the time, into the core of one of his stories. At length, however, this man stepped before them as they turned round, and pulling his hat off, and keeping it off, ducked his head to Mr Dombey.
'Beg your pardon, Sir,' said the man, 'but I hope you're a doin' pretty well, Sir.'
He was dressed in a canvas suit abundantly besmeared with coal-dust and oil, and had cinders in his whiskers, and a smell of half-slaked ashes all over him. He was not a bad-looking fellow, nor even what could be fairly called a dirty-looking fellow, in spite of this; and, in short, he was Mr Toodle, professionally clothed.
'I shall have the honour of stokin' of you down, Sir,' said Mr Toodle. 'Beg your pardon, Sir. - I hope you find yourself a coming round?'
Mr Dombey looked at him, in return for his tone of interest, as if a man like that would make his very eyesight dirty.
''Scuse the liberty, Sir,' said Toodle, seeing he was not clearly remembered, 'but my wife Polly, as was called Richards in your family - '
A change in Mr Dombey's face, which seemed to express recollection of him, and so it did, but it expressed in a much stronger degree an angry sense of humiliation, stopped Mr Toodle short.
'Your wife wants money, I suppose,' said Mr Dombey, putting his hand in his pocket, and speaking (but that he always did) haughtily.
'No thank'ee, Sir,' returned Toodle, 'I can't say she does. I don't.'
Mr Dombey was stopped short now in his turn: and awkwardly: with his hand in his pocket.
'No, Sir,' said Toodle, turning his oilskin cap round and round; 'we're a doin' pretty well, Sir; we haven't no cause to complain in the worldly way, Sir. We've had four more since then, Sir, but we rubs on.'
Mr Dombey would have rubbed on to his own carriage, though in so doing he had rubbed the stoker underneath the wheels; but his attention was arrested by something in connexion with the cap still going slowly round and round in the man's hand.
'We lost one babby,' observed Toodle, 'there's no denyin'.'
'Lately,' added Mr Dombey, looking at the cap.
'No, Sir, up'ard of three years ago, but all the rest is hearty. And in the matter o readin', Sir,' said Toodle, ducking again, as if to remind Mr Dombey of what had passed between them on that subject long ago, 'them boys o' mine, they learned me, among 'em, arter all. They've made a wery tolerable scholar of me, Sir, them boys.'
'Come, Major!' said Mr Dombey.
'Beg your pardon, Sir,' resumed Toodle, taking a step before them and deferentially stopping them again, still cap in hand: 'I wouldn't have troubled you with such a pint except as a way of gettin' in the name of my son Biler - christened Robin - him as you was so good as to make a Charitable Grinder on.'
'Well, man,' said Mr Dombey in his severest manner. 'What about him?'
'Why, Sir,' returned Toodle, shaking his head with a face of great anxiety and distress, 'I'm forced to say, Sir, that he's gone wrong.
'He has gone wrong, has he?' said Mr Dombey, with a hard kind of satisfaction.
'He has fell into bad company, you see, genelmen,' pursued the father, looking wistfully at both, and evidently taking the Major into the conversation with the hope of having his sympathy. 'He has got into bad ways. God send he may come to again, genelmen, but he's on the wrong track now! You could hardly be off hearing of it somehow, Sir,' said Toodle, again addressing Mr Dombey individually; 'and it's better I should out and say my boy's gone rather wrong. Polly's dreadful down about it, genelmen,' said Toodle with the same dejected look, and another appeal to the Major.
'A son of this man's whom I caused to be educated, Major,' said Mr Dombey, giving him his arm. 'The usual return!'
'Take advice from plain old Joe, and never educate that sort of people, Sir,' returned the Major. 'Damme, Sir, it never does! It always fails!'
The simple father was beginning to submit that he hoped his son, the quondam Grinder, huffed and cuffed, and flogged and badged, and taught, as parrots are, by a brute jobbed into his place of schoolmaster with as much fitness for it as a hound, might not have been educated on quite a right plan in some undiscovered respect, when Mr Dombey angrily repeating 'The usual return!' led the Major away. And the Major being heavy to hoist into Mr Dombey's carriage, elevated in mid-air, and having to stop and swear that he would flay the Native alive, and break every bone in his skin, and visit other physical torments upon him, every time he couldn't get his foot on the step, and fell back on that dark exile, had barely time before they started to repeat hoarsely that it would never do: that it always failed: and that if he were to educate 'his own vagabond,' he would certainly be hanged.
Mr Dombey assented bitterly; but there was something more in his bitterness, and in his moody way of falling back in the carriage, and looking with knitted brows at the changing objects without, than the failure of that noble educational system administered by the Grinders' Company. He had seen upon the man's rough cap a piece of new crape, and he had assured himself, from his manner and his answers, that he wore it for his son.
So) from high to low, at home or abroad, from Florence in his great house to the coarse churl who was feeding the fire then smoking before them, everyone set up some claim or other to a share in his dead boy, and was a bidder against him! Could he ever forget how that woman had wept over his pillow, and called him her own child! or how he, waking from his sleep, had asked for her, and had raised himself in his bed and brightened when she carne in!
To think of this presumptuous raker among coals and ashes going on before there, with his sign of mourning! To think that he dared to enter, even by a common show like that, into the trial and disappointrnent of a proud gentleman's secret heart! To think that this lost child, who was to have divided with him his riches, and his projects, and his power, and allied with whom he was to have shut out all the world as with a double door of gold, should have let in such a herd to insult him with their knowledge of his defeated hopes, and their boasts of claiming community of feeling with himself, so far removed: if not of having crept into the place wherein he would have lorded it, alone!
He found no pleasure or relief in the journey. Tortured by these thoughts he carried monotony with him, through the rushing landscape, and hurried headlong, not through a rich and varied country, but a wilderness of blighted plans and gnawing jealousies. The very speed at which the train was whirled along, mocked the swift course of the young life that had been borne away so steadily and so inexorably to its foredoomed end. The power that forced itself upon its iron way - its own - defiant of all paths and roads, piercing through the heart of every obstacle, and dragging living creatures of all classes, ages, and degrees behind it, was a type of the triumphant monster, Death.
Away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, from the town, burrowmg among the dwellings of men and making the streets hum, flashing out into the meadows for a moment, mining in through the damp earth, booming on in darkness and heavy air, bursting out again into the sunny day so bright and wide; away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, through the fields, through the woods, through the corn, through the hay, through the chalk, through the mould, through the clay, through the rock, among objects close at hand and almost in the grasp, ever flying from the traveller, and a deceitful distance ever moving slowly within him: like as in the track of the remorseless monster, Death!
Through the hollow, on the height, by the heath, by the orchard, by the park, by the garden, over the canal, across the river, where the sheep are feeding, where the mill is going, where the barge is floating, where the dead are lying, where the factory is smoking, where the stream is running, where the village clusters, where the great cathedral rises, where the bleak moor lies, and the wild breeze smooths or ruffles it at its inconstant will; away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, and no trace to leave behind but dust and vapour: like as in the track of the remorseless monster, Death!
Breasting the wind and light, the shower and sunshine, away, and still away, it rolls and roars, fierce and rapid, smooth and certain, and great works and massive bridges crossing up above, fall like a beam of shadow an inch broad, upon the eye, and then are lost. Away, and still away, onward and onward ever: glimpses of cottage-homes, of houses, mansions, rich estates, of husbandry and handicraft, of people, of old roads and paths that look deserted, small, and insignificant as they are left behind: and so they do, and what else is there but such glimpses, in the track of the indomitable monster, Death!
Away, with a shriek, and a roar, and a rattle, plunging down into the earth again, and working on in such a storm of energy and perseverance, that amidst the darkness and whirlwind the motion seems reversed, and to tend furiously backward, until a ray of light upon the Wet wall shows its surface flying past like a fierce stream, Away once more into the day, and through the day, with a shrill yell of exultation, roaring, rattling, tearing on, spurning everything with its dark breath, sometimes pausing for a minute where a crowd of faces are, that in a minute more are not; sometimes lapping water greedily, and before the spout at which it drinks' has ceased to drip upon the ground, shrieking, roaring, rattling through the purple distance!
Louder and louder yet, it shrieks and cries as it comes tearing on resistless to the goal: and now its way, still like the way of Death, is strewn with ashes thickly. Everything around is blackened. There are dark pools of water, muddy lanes, and miserable habitations far below. There are jagged walls and falling houses close at hand, and through the battered roofs and broken windows, wretched rooms are seen, where 'want and fever hide themselves in many wretched shapes, while smoke and crowded gables, and distorted chimneys, and deformity of brick and mortar penning up deformity of mind and body, choke the murky distance. As Mr Dombey looks out of his carriage window, it is never in his thoughts that the monster who has brought him there has let the light of day in on these things: not made or caused them. It was the journey's fitting end, and might have been the end of everything; it was so ruinous and dreary.'
So, pursuing the one course of thought, he had the one relentless monster still before him. All things looked black, and cold, and deadly upon him, and he on them. He found a likeness to his misfortune everywhere. There was a remorseless triumph going on about him, and it galled and stung him in his pride and jealousy, whatever form it took: though most of all when it divided with him the love and memory of his lost boy.
There was a face - he had looked upon it, on the previous night, and it on him with eyes that read his soul, though they were dim with tears, and hidden soon behind two quivering hands - that often had attended him in fancy, on this ride. He had seen it, with the expression of last night, timidly pleading to him. It was not reproachful, but there was something of doubt, almost of hopeful incredulity in it, which, as he once more saw that fade away into a desolate certainty of his dislike, was like reproach. It was a trouble to him to think of this face of Florence.
Because he felt any new compunction towards it? No. Because the feeling it awakened in him - of which he had had some old foreshadowing in older times - was full-formed now, and spoke out plainly, moving him too much, and threatening to grow too strong for his composure. Because the face was abroad, in the expression of defeat and persecution that seemed to encircle him like the air. Because it barbed the arrow of that cruel and remorseless enemy on which his thoughts so ran, and put into its grasp a double-handed sword. Because he knew full well, in his own breast, as he stood there, tinging the scene of transition before him with the morbid colours of his own mind, and making it a ruin and a picture of decay, instead of hopeful change, and promise of better things, that life had quite as much to do with his complainings as death. One child was gone, and one child left. Why was the object of his hope removed instead of her?
The sweet, calm, gentle presence in his fancy, moved him to no reflection but that. She had been unwelcome to him from the first; she was an aggravation of his bitterness now. If his son had been his only child, and the same blow had fallen on him, it would have been heavy to bear; but infinitely lighter than now, when it might have fallen on her (whom he could have lost, or he believed it, without a pang), and had not. Her loving and innocent face rising before him, had no softening or winning influence. He rejected the angel, and took up with the tormenting spirit crouching in his bosom. Her patience, goodness, youth, devotion, love, were as so many atoms in the ashes upon which he set his heel. He saw her image in the blight and blackness all around him, not irradiating but deepening the gloom. More than once upon this journey, and now again as he stood pondering at this journey's end, tracing figures in the dust with his stick, the thought came into his mind, what was there he could interpose between himself and it?
The Major, who had been blowing and panting all the way down, like another engine, and whose eye had often wandered from his newspaper to leer at the prospect, as if there were a procession of discomfited Miss Toxes pouring out in the smoke of the train, and flying away over the fields to hide themselves in any place of refuge, aroused his friends by informing him that the post-horses were harnessed and the carriage ready.
'Dombey,' said the Major, rapping him on the arm with his cane, 'don't be thoughtful. It's a bad habit, Old Joe, Sir, wouldn't be as tough as you see him, if he had ever encouraged it. You are too great a man, Dombey, to be thoughtful. In your position, Sir, you're far above that kind of thing.'
The Major even in his friendly remonstrrnces, thus consulting the dignity and honour of Mr Dombey, and showing a lively sense of their importance, Mr Dombey felt more than ever disposed to defer to a gentleman possessing so much good sense and such a well-regulated mind; acoordingly he made an effort to listen to the Major's stories, as they trotted along the turnpike road; and the Major, finding both the pace and the road a great deal better adapted to his conversational powers than the mode of travelling they had just relinquished, came out of his entertainment,
But still the Major, blunt and tough as he was, and as he so very often said he was, administered some palatable catering to his companion's appetite. He related, or rather suffered it to escape him, accidentally, and as one might say, grudgingly and against his will, how there was great curiosity and excitement at the club, in regard of his friend Dombey. How he was suffocated with questions, Sir. How old Joe Bagstock was a greater man than ever, there, on the strength of Dombey. How they said, 'Bagstock, your friend Dombey now, what is the view he takes of such and such a question? Though, by the Rood, Sir,' said the Major, with a broad stare, 'how they discovered that J. B. ever came to know you, is a mystery!'
In this flow of spirits and conversation, only interrupted by his usual plethoric symptoms, and by intervals of lunch, and from time to time by some violent assault upon the Native, who wore a pair of ear-rings in his dark-brown ears, and on whom his European clothes sat with an outlandish impossibility of adjustment - being, of their own accord, and without any reference to the tailor's art, long where they ought to be short, short where they ought to be long, tight where they ought to be loose, and loose where they ought to be tight - and to which he imparted a new grace, whenever the Major attacked him, by shrinking into them like a shrivelled nut, or a cold monkey - in this flow of spirits and conversation, the Major continued all day: so that when evening came on, and found them trotting through the green and leafy road near Leamington, the Major's voice, what with talking and eating and chuckling and choking, appeared to be in the box under the rumble, or in some neighbouring hay-stack. Nor did the Major improve it at the Royal Hotel, where rooms and dinner had been ordered, and where he so oppressed his organs of speech by eating and drinking, that when he retired to bed he had no voice at all, except to cough with, and could only make himself intelligible to the dark servant by gasping at him.
He not only rose next morning, however, like a giant refreshed, but conducted himself, at breakfast like a giant refreshing. At this meal they arranged their daily habits. The Major was to take the responsibility of ordering evrything to eat and drink; and they were to have a late breakfast together every morning, and a late dinner together every day. Mr Dombey would prefer remaining in his own room, or walking in the country by himself, on that first day of their sojourn at Leamington; but next morning he would be happy to accompany the Major to the Pump-room, and about the town. So they parted until dinner-time. Mr Dombey retired to nurse his wholesome thoughts in his own way. The Major, attended by the Native carrying a camp-stool, a great-coat, and an umbrella, swaggered up and down through all the public places: looking into subscription books to find out who was there, looking up old ladies by whom he was much admired, reporting J. B. tougher than ever, and puffing his rich friend Dombey wherever he went. There never was a man who stood by a friend more staunchly than the Major, when in puffing him, he puffed himself.
It was surprising how much new conversation the Major had to let off at dinner-time, and what occasion he gave Mr Dombey to admire his social qualities. At breakfast next morning, he knew the contents of the latest newspapers received; and mentioned several subjects in connexion with them, on which his opinion had recently been sought by persons of such power and might, that they were only to be obscurely hinted at. Mr Dombey, who had been so long shut up within himself, and who had rarely, at any time, overstepped the enchanted circle within which the operations of Dombey and Son were conducted, began to think this an improvement on his solitary life; and in place of excusing himself for another day, as he had thought of doing when alone, walked out with the Major arm-in-arm.
“董贝先生，”白格斯托克少校说道，“乔埃•白一般来说并不是一个多愁善感的人，因为约瑟夫是坚强的。但是乔是有感情的，先生，当这些感情•真•的被唤醒的时候——他妈的，董贝先生，”少校突然凶猛地喊道，“这是个弱点，我不打算向它屈服！”
白格斯托克少校是在公主广场他自己的楼梯顶上迎接客人董贝先生时说这些话的。在他们出发旅行之前，董贝先生前来跟少校一道吃早餐；薄命倒霉的本地人由于做的松饼不合主人的口味，已经受尽种种折磨，至于煮鸡蛋引起的问题，生活对他来说真是个沉重的负担。
“白格斯托克家族的一个老兵不应当束手无策地听凭他成为自己感情的牺牲品，”少校态度温和下来，说道，“可是——他妈的，先生，”少校突然又凶猛起来，喊道，“我向您表示哀悼！”
当少校和董贝先生握手的时候，他的青紫色的脸孔的颜色加深了，他的龙虾眼睛更加突出地鼓了出来，因此在那和平的动作中加上了一层挑衅的色彩，仿佛这是一个序幕，接下去，他立即就要为一千镑赌金和英国的锦标与董贝先生进行拳击比赛似的。然后，少校一边转动着头，徐马咳嗽一般地喘着气，一边把客人领到起居室（这时他的情绪已镇静下来了），以一个旅伴无拘无束、坦率真诚的态度欢迎他。
“董贝，”少校说道，“我见到您很高兴。我见到您感到自豪。在欧洲，乔•白格斯托克能对他们说这种话的人是不多的——因为乔希是个直肠直肚，不会虚情假意的人。先生，他生性就是这样——但乔埃•白见到您感到自豪，董贝。”
“少校，”董贝先生说道“您很谦和有礼。”
“不，先生，”少校说，“绝对不是！那不是我的性格。如果那是乔的性格，那么乔现在可能已经是陆军中将约瑟夫•白格斯托克爵士，（巴士高级勋位爵士），可能已经在大不相同的公馆里接待您了。看来您还不了解老乔。但是这次非同寻常的机会是我自豪的源泉。真的，先生，”少校坚决地说道，“这是我的光荣！”
董贝先生根据他对他本人和对他的金钱的评价，觉得这话说得千真万确，因此没有辩驳。但是少校本能地认识这个真理并爽直地作出这个声明，这是令人愉快的。对于董贝先生来说，它证实了（如果他需要证实的话）他对少校的看法没有错。它使他相信：他的权势已扩展到他直接管辖的业务范围之外。少校这位军官和绅士对他权势的正确认识与伦敦交易所的差役相比丝毫不差。
如果说，知道这个情况或类似的情况过去一直是他的一种安慰的话，那么现在，当他的意志无能为力，他的希望动摇不稳，他的财富软弱无能的印象多么悲惨地铭刻在他的心头的时候，知道这个情况更是他的一种安慰。财富能做什么？——他的男孩子曾经这样问过他。他有时想到这孩子的问题时也禁不住问他自己，它真能做什么？它做到了什么呢？
这些都是他在深夜与世隔绝之情况下愁眉不展、意气消沉、黯然忧伤时所产生的隐秘的思想，但是高傲很容易从这个真理的许多证明中重新使他产生信心，这些证明就跟少校的证明一样不容怀疑，一样宝贵可爱。董贝先生在没有朋友的情况下对少校产生了好感。不能说他对他满腔热情，而只能说他稍稍解了点冻。在海滨的那些日子里，少校曾经起过一些作用（不很大）。他是个上层社会里的人物，认识一些重要人物。他健谈，爱讲趣闻轶事；董贝先生喜欢把他看成是在社会上抛头露面的才士名流，但却没有才士名流通常掺杂得过多的有害的寒酸气。他的地位是不可否认的。总的说来，少校是个可以称许的旅伴；他对闲暇安逸的生活十分习惯，对他们即将前往游览的名胜也十分熟悉。在他身上流露出一种上流人士悠闲自在的气派，它和董贝先生本人忙忙碌碌的城市风格搭配得不错，又根本不和它竞争高低。如果董贝先生心中出现过这样的念头，那只残酷无情的手最近曾经摧毁了他的希望，而少校出于他的天职，习惯于把这类事情看得满不在乎，因此他可能在无意间向他灌输一些有用的哲学，驱除他淡弱的哀惜；——如果董贝先生心中出现过这样的念头的话，那么他是把它掩藏起来了，连他自己也不清楚，并不加考察地让自己的高傲把它压在最底层。
“我的无赖在哪里？”少校怒气冲冲地环视着房间，说道。
本地人没有固定的名字，不论用什么辱骂的绰号呼唤他，他都应声回答；这时他立即出现在门口，不敢再向前走近。
“你这坏蛋！”肝火旺盛的少校说道，“早餐在哪里？”
肤色黝黑的仆人离开去取早餐，不一会儿就听到他战战兢兢地重新上楼；托盘里的盘子和碟子都同情地震颤着，一路上卡嗒卡嗒地响着。
“董贝，”少校说，一边向正在餐桌上摆放食品的本地人看了一眼；当他掉落一只匙子的时候，少校就威吓地挥挥拳头，以示鼓励。“这是辣子烤肉，这是咸馅饼，这是一碟腰子，还有其他等等。请坐下吧。您看，老乔没什么招待您，只能请您吃行军的伙食啦！”
“饭菜好极了，少校，”客人回答道，这倒不仅仅是说客气话，因为少校总是尽量把自己照料得很好；事实上他荤菜吃得太多，已经超出有益于健康的程度；他那红光满面的气色主要归因于他的这种嗜好。
“您在看对面的房屋，先生，”少校说道，“您看到了我们的朋友没有？”
“您是说托克斯小姐吗？”董贝先生回答道，“没有看到。”
“迷人的女人哪，先生，”少校说道，他那短喉咙中发出了纵情的大笑声，几乎使他透不过气来。
“我觉得，托克斯小姐是一个很好的人，”董贝先生回答道。
傲慢、冷淡的回答似乎使白格斯托克少校感到无比高兴。他非常兴奋，非常得意，甚至把刀和叉放下片刻，搓起手来。
“先生，”少校说道，“老乔曾经一度是那个房屋里得宠的人。但是乔的好日子已经过去了。乔已经相形见绌，被别人胜过，被别人打败了，先生。这就是我要跟您说的，董贝。”少校停止吃东西，神色神秘而愤怒，“那是个像魔鬼一样野心勃勃的女人，先生。”
董贝先生说了声：“真的吗？”他是冷冷淡淡、漠不关心的，其中也许还夹杂着由于轻蔑而产生的不信任：托克斯小姐怎么竟胆敢怀有野心这样高超的品质呢？
“先生，”少校说，“那个女人就她的本性来说是个恶魔。乔埃•白的好日子已经过去了，但是他的眼睛是继续注视着的。他洞察一切，乔就是这样的。已故的约克郡公爵殿下有一次在早朝中谈到乔的时候曾经说过，他洞察一切。”
少校在讲这些话的时候，露出一副异乎寻常的神色；当他在喝热茶、吃辣子烤肉、松饼和进行意味深长的谈话中间，头是那么兴奋和激怒，甚至连董贝先生也为他表示几分忧虑。
“先生，”少校继续说道，“那个可笑的老女人想要高攀。
她想要高攀到天上，先生。在婚姻上，董贝。”
“我为她感到遗憾。”董贝先生说道。
“别说那个，董贝，”少校用警告的声调说道。
“为什么不说，少校？”董贝先生问道。
少校除了发出像马的咳嗽一样的声音外，没有回答别的，并起劲吃着。
“她对您的家已经产生了兴趣，”少校又停止吃东西，说道，“好些时间以来，她一直是您家的常客。”
“是的，”董贝先生极为庄严地回答道，“托克斯小姐最初是在董贝夫人逝世时，作为我妹妹的一位朋友，在我家受到接待的。由于她是个举止得当、很有礼貌的人，对那个可怜的婴儿又表示喜爱，所以我允许她，可以说是我鼓励她，跟我妹妹一道，经常不断地到我家来拜访，并逐渐地跟这个家庭建立了一种亲近融洽的关系。我，”董贝先生说，他的声调是作出重大的、有价值的让步的人才会有的，“我尊敬托克斯小姐。她很殷勤地在我家里帮了很多小忙，也许这些都是鸡毛蒜皮、微不足道的小忙，少校，但不应当因为这个缘故而贬损它们。我希望我有幸能在我的力量所及的范围内给予注意和关切，以表示感谢。我认为我自己就是多亏了托克斯小姐，少校，”董贝先生轻轻地挥着手，接下去说道，“才有幸跟您相识的。”
“董贝，”少校激昂地说道，“不，不，先生！约瑟夫•白格斯托克不能不对这种说法提出异议。您认识老乔，先生，以及老乔认识您，先生，根源都是由于一位高贵的人，先生，一位卓越非凡的人儿，先生，”少校说道，一边显露出内心痛苦斗争的表情；要做到这一点在他是不难的，因为他这一生都是在跟各种中风的症候作斗争；“董贝，我们是通过您的男孩子而相互认识的。”
董贝先生听到他的这句暗示似乎很受感动（很可能少校有意指望他会这样）。他低垂着眼睛，叹了一口气；少校呢，猛烈地振作起精神；当提到他觉得他本人有危险陷入那种痛苦心情时，他再次说，这是个弱点，没有什么能诱使他向它屈服。
“我们的朋友与我们之间的认识只有间接的关系，”少校说道，“凡是属于她的功劳，乔•白是乐意给她的，先生。尽管如此，夫人，”他接着说，一边抬起眼睛，越过公主广场，望过去，这时可以看见托克斯小姐正在窗口浇花，“您是个女流氓，夫人，您的野心无耻到了极点。如果这仅仅使您自己滑稽可笑，夫人，”少校向一无所知的托克斯小姐摇晃着脑袋说道，这时他那鼓鼓的眼睛好像要跳向她身上去似的，“您满可以痛痛快快地那样做，我敢向您保证，白格斯托克决不会有任何反对。”这时少校可怕地哈哈大笑，连耳朵尖和头上的血管都震颤起来了，“可是，夫人，”少校说道，“当您损害别人，而且损害的是宽宏大量、毫无猜疑的人，来报答他们对您屈尊俯就的厚意，那么您就叫老乔身上的血液沸腾起来了。”
“少校，”董贝先生红着脸说道，“我希望您说到托克斯小姐的时候，别暗示任何荒谬绝伦的事情——”
“董贝，”少校回答道，“我什么也没有暗示。但是乔埃•白是生活在这个世界上的，先生，是张开眼睛生活在这个世界上的，先生，他的耳朵也是竖起来的；乔告诉您，董贝，就在路对过，有一个非常非常狡猾和野心勃勃的女人。”
董贝先生不由得向广场对过望了一眼；他朝那个方向投射过去的是愤怒的眼光。
“约瑟夫•白格斯托克在这个问题上想要讲的话，没有半句留在嘴里的了，”少校斩钉截铁地说道，“乔不是个搬弄是非的人，但有时候，当挑衅强烈得叫他不能再沉默下去的时候，他必须说，他•想•要说——您那该死的奸计，夫人！”少校又火冒三丈地向着他的女邻居大声喊道。
这突然爆发的感情激动又引起少校发出一阵马的咳嗽般的声音，把他折磨了好久；当他恢复过来以后，他又继续说道：
“现在，董贝，既然您邀请乔——老乔当您的客人和莱明顿①的向导，那就请随意指挥他吧，他是完全属于您的。他没有别的优点，先生，但他是坚强不屈和诚恳热情的。我不知道，先生，”少校带着诙谐的神气，摇摆着他的双下巴颏，说道，“你们这些人在乔身上看到了什么，使你们全都向他提出了这样重大的请求；不过我明白，如果他不是坚强不屈、顽抗到底地拒绝这些邀请的话，那么你们就会用请贴及其他一类东西把他的这条命加快一倍地断送了。”
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①莱明顿（Leamington）：英格兰沃里克郡的一个城镇，是有名的矿泉疗养地。
董贝先生三言两语地表示他认识到，社会上其他杰出的人物全都争争吵吵地想把白格斯托克少校据为己有，而少校对他本人的偏爱则超过他们之上。但是少校立刻打断他，让他明白，他是根据自己的心意行事的；他的这些心意全都一致起立，用一个声调对他说，“乔•白，董贝是您应当选来做朋友的人。”
少校这时吃得饱饱的，咸馅饼的液汁从他的眼角中渗流出来，辣子烤肉和腰子绷紧了他的领带；火车开往伯明翰的时间已经临近（他们是乘火车离开城市的），本地人非常困难地给他穿上厚大衣，扣上钮扣；他的脸孔终于从衣服的顶端露了出来，眼睛鼓着往外看，嘴巴张着喘气，仿佛他是装在一个琵琶桶里似的。接着，本地人把他的软皮手套、粗手杖和帽子一件件地递给他，每递完一件总要隔适当的间歇才递下一件。他把那顶帽子时髦地歪戴在头的一边，为的是使他那惊人的面貌变得柔和一些。董贝先生的四轮轻便马车正在外面等待着，本地人事先在马车中一切可能的和不可能的角落里塞满了数量异常之多的毡制旅行提包和小旅行皮包；它们那鼓鼓囊囊的外表就跟少校本人一样，好像患了中风症似的；本地人在自己的口袋中又塞满了塞尔查矿泉水、东印度群岛的雪利酒、夹心面包片、围巾、望远镜、地图和报纸，这一类随身携带的轻便物品是少校在旅行中随时可能要的。然后，本地人报告，一切都已准备就绪。为了把这位不幸的外国人（人们传说他在本国是位王子）装备得齐全无缺，当他和托林森先生并排坐在马车后座上的时候，房东又把一堆少校的斗篷和厚大衣猛掷到他身上；这位房东像一位泰坦①，从铺石路上把这些巨弹对准他投射过来，把他完全蒙盖住了，他就像埋葬在一个活坟墓里似地向着火车站前进。
但是在马车出发之前，正当本地人被埋葬的时候，托克斯小姐出现在她的窗口，挥着一块像百合花一样纯白的手绢。董贝先生很冷淡地——甚至对他来说也是很冷淡地——接受了这个送行的问候；他的头极为轻微地点了一下作为回礼，然后神色十分不愉快地仰靠在马车中。他这故意的态度使少校感到无比高兴。（他倒很有礼貌地跟托克斯小姐打了招呼），后来他长久地坐在那里，眼睛斜瞅着，嘴巴喘着气，像吃得过多的梅菲斯托菲尔斯②一样。
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①泰坦（Titan）：希腊神话中与神斗争的巨人族。
②梅菲斯托菲尔斯：德国诗人哥德所著《浮士德》中的魔鬼。
在车站临开车前忙忙乱乱的时间里，董贝先生和少校在月台上并排地走来走去；董贝先生沉默寡言，闷闷不乐，少校则以各种轶事和回忆（其中大部分的主要角色都是乔•白格斯托克）来使他或使他自己开心消遣。他们两人谁也没有注意到，他们在散步过程中已吸引了一位工人的注意；那位工人站在机车旁边；他们每次从旁经过的时候，他都触一触帽檐向他们行礼；因为董贝先生按照平时的习惯，没有正面去看普通老百姓，而是越过他们的头顶望出去；少校呢，正全神贯注地在讲他的趣闻轶事，所以谁也没有理会到这位工人。可是当他们向后转的时候，那人终于走到他们面前，脱下帽子，拿在手中，向董贝先生低头鞠躬。
“请原谅，先生，”那人说道，“我希望您身体健康，生活愉快，先生。”
他穿着一套帆布衣服，上面布满斑斑点点的煤灰和油垢，连鬓胡子当中有着煤屑，全身上下散发出一股半熄灭的灰烬的气味。尽管这样，他并不是一个难看的人，也不能说他是个看上去肮脏的人；直接了当地说吧，他就是穿着工作服的图德尔先生。
“我很荣幸将在这一路上为你们往锅炉里添煤烧火，”图德尔先生说道，“请原谅，先生，我希望您身体开始恢复过来了吧！”
董贝先生嫌恶地看着他，回答他那关切的声调，仿佛像他那样的人甚至会把他的视野也玷污了似的。
“请原谅我的冒昧，先生，”图德尔先生看到董贝先生已记不清他了，就说道：“不过我的老婆波利，在您家里管她叫做理查兹的——”
董贝先生脸色的变化使图德尔先生突然说不出话来。它似乎表示他已记起他来，实际上也确实如此，但它却以更强烈的程度愤怒地表示出一种屈辱感。
“你的老婆需要钱吧，我想，”董贝先生把手伸进衣袋里，傲慢地说道，不过他经常是这样说话的。
“不，谢谢您，先生，”图德尔回答道，“她需要不需要我不好说。我不需要。”
现在轮到董贝先生突然尴尬地说不出话来了，他的手还放在衣袋里。
“不，先生，”图德尔把他的油布帽子在手里一圈又一圈地打着转，“我们过得不错，先生。我们没有理由抱怨生活，先生。从那时以来，我们又添了四个孩子，先生，但是我们还能勉勉强强过得下去。”
董贝先生真想使劲地挤到他的车厢里去，那怕这样做会把这烧锅炉的火夫给挤到车轮底下也罢；但是这时他的注意力却被那依旧在那人手里慢慢打转的油布帽子上的什么东西吸引住了。
“我们失去了一个小娃娃，”图德尔说，“这是不能否认的。”
“最近吗？”董贝先生看着那帽子，问道。
“不，先生，三年多以前的事了，不过其余的孩子全都很强健。说到念书的事，先生，”图德尔先生又鞠了一个躬，说道，仿佛他想要向董贝先生提醒好久以前他们之间在这方面曾经发生过的事情似的，“归根到底，我的这些男孩子们他们全都教我。先生，他们这些男孩子已经让我成了一个能读会写的人了。”
“走吧，少校！”董贝先生说道。
“请原谅，先生，”图德尔走到他们前面，又恭恭敬敬地拦住他们，继续往下说，他的手里依旧拿着帽子，“如果我不是想把我们的谈话引到我的儿子拜勒的话，那么我本不想用这些话来打搅您的；拜勒的教名叫罗宾，就是他，承蒙您的好意，让他成了一名慈善的磨工。”
“唔，您说，”董贝先生极为严厉地说道，“他怎么了？”
“唉，先生，”图德尔摇着头，脸上露出很大的忧虑与痛苦，回答道，“我不得不说，先生，他走错路了。”
“他走错路了，真的吗？”董贝先生说道，心中感到一种残忍的满足。
“先生们，你们知道，他交了坏朋友了，”那位父亲用愁闷的眼光望着他们两人，继续说道，他把少校显然也拉入谈话，是为了取得他的同情，“他走到邪路上去了。上帝保佑，他也许是会回来的，先生们，可是现在他是在错误的轨道上行走。您也许总会听到这件事的，先生，”图德尔又单独对着董贝先生说道，“不过最好还是由我自己来告诉您，对您说，我的孩子走错路了。波利悲伤得不得了，先生们，”图德尔露出同样沮丧的神色，再一次向少校求助，说道。
“我曾帮助这个人的儿子去受教育，少校，”董贝先生先生挽着他的胳膊，说道，“到头来通常是这样的报答！”
“请接受老乔直率的忠告，千万别去教育这一类人，先生，”少校回答道，“他妈的，先生，千万别做那种事！那样做总是失败的！”
这位老实人的儿子，过去的磨工，曾经被他那野兽般粗暴、残忍的老师吓唬过，殴打过，鞭挞过，在身上烙过印，并像鹦鹉般地教过；由这种人担任老师职务，就像让猎狗担任这种职务一样不合适。当这位头脑简单的父亲正想表示希望他的儿子不要在某些方面接受了错误的教育的时候，董贝先生怒冲冲地重复了一句：“到头来通常是这样的报答！”，就领着少校走开了。少校身子很重，很不容易把他举起送进董贝先生的车厢里；他被悬举在半空，每当他的脚踩不到车厢门口的踏板，重新落在肤色黝黑的流亡者的身上时，他就发誓赌咒地大骂说，他要把本地人活活剥下皮来，要把他的每根骨头都打断，还要让他的身体吃其他各种苦头；少校进了车厢以后，嘶哑地重复说，千万别做那种事，那样做总是失败的，如果他要让“自己这位流浪汉”去受教育的话，那么这小子到头来准会被绞死的；话音刚落，火车就开了。
董贝先生心里很不好受地表示同意；但是在他的不好受中，在他仰靠在车厢里、皱着眉头看着车外不断变化的景物时那郁郁不乐的神色中，还包含着另外的意义，它并不是由于磨工公司举办的高贵的教育制度遭到失败所引起的。他刚才在那人的质地粗糙的帽子上看到一块新的黑纱；他从他的态度和回答中可以肯定，他是为他的儿子保罗佩戴的。
正是这样！从地位高的到地位低的，在家里或在外面，从住在他的宏伟的公馆中的弗洛伦斯开始，一直到这位正在给锅炉烧火，在他们前面正冒出黑烟来的粗汉，每个人都认为对他死去的孩子享有自己的一份权利，都成为他的竞争对手！他能忘记那个女人曾经怎样在保罗的枕边痛哭，把他称做她自己的孩子吗？他能忘记那孩子从睡眠中醒来的时候怎样打听她，而当她进来的时候，他又怎样喜形于色地从床上坐起来吗？
想一想这个在煤块和灰烬中间拨弄火耙子的人正毫无顾忌地佩戴着他那服丧的标志，在前面向前行进吧！想一想他竟敢那怕是采用那样普普通通的一种表示，来分担一位高傲的绅士的秘密的心中的烦恼与失望吧！想一想这个死去的孩子本应当和他共享财富与权力，本应当与他共同策划未来的事业，本应当和他一起像关上双重金门一样地与全世界隔绝的，却竟会让这样一类愚昧无知的平民闯进来，对他破灭的希望了如指掌，并扬扬得意地夸耀能跟他分担与他们如此疏远的感情上的悲痛，用这种方式来侮辱他吧！且不说他们还可能已偷偷地爬进他想独自霸占的地方了呢！
他没有从旅行中找到快乐或安慰。他被这些思想折磨着，怀着忧闷无聊的心情，通过了迅速飞逝的风光景色；他匆匆穿过的不是物产富饶、绚丽多采的国家，而是茫茫一片破灭了的计划与令人苦恼的妒嫉。急速转动的火车速度本身嘲笑着年轻生命的迅速过程，它被多么坚定不移，多么铁面无情地带向预定的终点。一股力量迫使它在它的铁路——它自己的道路——上急驰，它藐视其他一切道路和小径，冲破每一个障碍，拉着各种阶级、年龄和地位的人群和生物，向前奔驶；这股力量就是那耀武扬威的怪物——死亡！
它尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，向远方开去；它从城市出发，穿进人们的住宅区，使街道喧嚣活跃；它在片刻间突然出现在草原上，接着钻进潮湿的土地，在黑暗与沉闷的空气中隆隆前进，然后它又突然进入了多么灿烂、多么宽广、阳光照耀的白天。它尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，向远方开去；它穿过田野，穿过森林，穿过谷物，穿过干草，穿过白垩地，穿过沃土，穿过粘泥，穿过岩石，穿过近在手边、几乎就在掌握之中、但却永远从旅客身边飞去的东西，这时一个虚幻的远景永远在他心中缓慢地随他移动着，就像在那个冷酷无情的怪物——死亡的轨道上前进一样！
它穿过洼地，爬上山岗，经过荒原，经过果园，经过公园，经过花园，越过运河、越过河流，经过羊群正在吃草的地方，经过磨坊正在运转的地方，经过驳船正在漂流的地方，经过死人躺着的地方，经过工厂正在冒烟的地方，经过小溪正在奔流的地方，经过村庄簇集的地方，经过宏伟的大教堂高高耸立的地方，经过生长着石竹、狂风反复无常地有时使它表面平顺光滑、有时又使它兴波起浪的萧瑟凄凉的荒原；它尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，向远方开去，除了尘埃与蒸汽外，不留下其他任何痕迹，就像在那个冷酷无情的怪物——死亡的轨道上前进一样！
迎着风和光，迎着阵雨和阳光，它转动着，吼叫着，猛烈地、迅速地、平稳地、确信地向远方开去，向更远的地方开去。巨大的堤坝和宏伟的桥梁像一束一英寸宽的阴暗的光线闪现在眼前，然后又消失了。它向远方，更远的地方开去，向前，永远向前地开去，瞥见了茅舍，瞥见了房屋、公馆、富饶的庄园，瞥见了农田和手工作坊，瞥见了人们，瞥见了古老的道路和小径（当它们被抛在后面的时候，看去是那么荒凉，渺小和微不足道——它们也确实如此——）、在难以制服的怪物——死亡的轨道上，除了瞥见这些东西之外，又还有什么别的呢？
它尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，向远方开去；它重新投入地面，以狂风暴雨般充沛的精力和坚韧不拔的精神向前奔驶；在黑暗与旋风中它的车轮似乎倒转，猛烈地向后面退回去，直到射向潮湿的墙上的光辉显示出，它的顶部表面正像一条湍急的溪流一般向前飞奔过去。它发出了欢天喜地的尖叫声，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，又一次进入了白天和经过了白天，急匆匆地继续向前奔驰着；它用它黑色的呼吸唾弃一切，有时在人群聚集的地方停歇一分钟，一分钟以后他们就再也看不见了；它有时贪婪无厌地狂饮着水，当它饮水的喷管还没有停止滴水之前，它就尖叫着，呼吼着，卡嗒卡嗒地响着，开向紫红色的远方去了！
当它急急匆匆、不可抗拒地向着目标奔驰的时候，它尖叫、呼吼得更响更响了；这时它的道路又像死亡的道路一样，厚厚地铺盖着灰烬。周围的一切都变得黑暗了。在很下面的地方是黑暗的水池，泥泞的胡同，简陋的住宅。附近有断垣残壁和坍塌的房屋，通过露出窟窿的屋顶和破损的窗子可以看到可怜的房间，房间中显露出贫困与热病的各种惨状；烟尘、堆积的山墙、变形的烟囱、残破的砖头和废弃的灰浆，把畸形的身心关在里面，并且堵挡住阴暗的远方。当董贝先生从车厢窗户望出去时，他没有想到，把他运载到这里来的怪物只不过是让白天的亮光照射到这些景物上面，它没有制造它们，也不是它们发生的原因。这是恰当的旅程终点，也可能是一切事物的终点——它是多么破落与凄凉。
因此，当他沿着那条思路想下去的时候，那个残酷无情的怪物仍然出现在他眼前。一切事物都暗淡地、冷酷地、死气沉沉地看着他，他也同样地看着它们，他到处都看到与他的不幸相似的地方。周围的一切事物都毫无怜悯心地庆贺着对他的胜利，不论这种庆贺采取什么形式，它都伤害与刺痛了他的高傲与妒嫉心；特别是当它与他分享他对那死去的孩子的热爱或参与他对他的回忆的时候，他的痛苦就格外强烈。
在这一次旅行中有一张脸孔经常出现在他的浮思漫想之中；前一天夜间他曾看见它，它也看见他，它上面的两只眼睛虽然被泪水弄模糊了，而且立即被两只发抖的手捂住了，但是却觉察到了他的灵魂。他在旅程中看到它就跟昨天夜间的
Chapter 21
New Faces

The MAJOR, more blue-faced and staring - more over-ripe, as it were, than ever - and giving vent, every now and then, to one of the horse's coughs, not so much of necessity as in a spontaneous explosion of importance, walked arm-in-arm with Mr Dombey up the sunny side of the way, with his cheeks swelling over his tight stock, his legs majestically wide apart, and his great head wagging from side to side, as if he were remonstrating within himself for being such a captivating object. They had not walked many yards, before the Major encountered somebody he knew, nor many yards farther before the Major encountered somebody else he knew, but he merely shook his fingers at them as he passed, and led Mr Dombey on: pointing out the localities as they went, and enlivening the walk with any current scandal suggested by them.
In this manner the Major and Mr Dombey were walking arm-in-arm, much to their own satisfaction, when they beheld advancing towards them, a wheeled chair, in which a lady was seated, indolently steering her carriage by a kind of rudder in front, while it was propelled by some unseen power in the rear. Although the lady was not young, she was very blooming in the face - quite rosy- and her dress and attitude were perfectly juvenile. Walking by the side of the chair, and carrying her gossamer parasol with a proud and weary air, as if so great an effort must be soon abandoned and the parasol dropped, sauntered a much younger lady, very handsome, very haughty, very wilful, who tossed her head and drooped her eyelids, as though, if there were anything in all the world worth looking into, save a mirror, it certainly was not the earth or sky.
'Why, what the devil have we here, Sir!' cried the Major, stopping as this little cavalcade drew near.
'My dearest Edith!' drawled the lady in the chair, 'Major Bagstock!'
The Major no sooner heard the voice, than he relinquished Mr Dombey's arm, darted forward, took the hand of the lady in the chair and pressed it to his lips. With no less gallantry, the Major folded both his gloves upon his heart, and bowed low to the other lady. And now, the chair having stopped, the motive power became visible in the shape of a flushed page pushing behind, who seemed to have in part outgrown and in part out-pushed his strength, for when he stood upright he was tall, and wan, and thin, and his plight appeared the more forlorn from his having injured the shape of his hat, by butting at the carriage with his head to urge it forward, as is sometimes done by elephants in Oriental countries.
'Joe Bagstock,' said the Major to both ladies, 'is a proud and happy man for the rest of his life.'
'You false creature! said the old lady in the chair, insipidly. 'Where do you come from? I can't bear you.'
'Then suffer old Joe to present a friend, Ma'am,' said the Major, promptly, 'as a reason for being tolerated. Mr Dombey, Mrs Skewton.' The lady in the chair was gracious. 'Mr Dombey, Mrs Granger.' The lady with the parasol was faintly conscious of Mr Dombey's taking off his hat, and bowing low. 'I am delighted, Sir,' said the Major, 'to have this opportunity.'
The Major seemed in earnest, for he looked at all the three, and leered in his ugliest manner.
'Mrs Skewton, Dombey,' said the Major, 'makes havoc in the heart of old Josh.'
Mr Dombey signified that he didn't wonder at it.
'You perfidious goblin,' said the lady in the chair, 'have done! How long have you been here, bad man?'
'One day,' replied the Major.
'And can you be a day, or even a minute,' returned the lady, slightly settling her false curls and false eyebrows with her fan, and showing her false teeth, set off by her false complexion, 'in the garden of what's-its-name
'Eden, I suppose, Mama,' interrupted the younger lady, scornfully.
'My dear Edith,' said the other, 'I cannot help it. I never can remember those frightful names - without having your whole Soul and Being inspired by the sight of Nature; by the perfume,' said Mrs Skewton, rustling a handkerchief that was faint and sickly with essences, 'of her artless breath, you creature!'
The discrepancy between Mrs Skewton's fresh enthusiasm of words, and forlornly faded manner, was hardly less observable than that between her age, which was about seventy, and her dress, which would have been youthful for twenty-seven. Her attitude in the wheeled chair (which she never varied) was one in which she had been taken in a barouche, some fifty years before, by a then fashionable artist who had appended to his published sketch the name of Cleopatra: in consequence of a discovery made by the critics of the time, that it bore an exact resemblance to that Princess as she reclined on board her galley. Mrs Skewton was a beauty then, and bucks threw wine-glasses over their heads by dozens in her honour. The beauty and the barouche had both passed away, but she still preserved the attitude, and for this reason expressly, maintained the wheeled chair and the butting page: there being nothing whatever, except the attitude, to prevent her from walking.
'Mr Dombey is devoted to Nature, I trust?' said Mrs Skewton, settling her diamond brooch. And by the way, she chiefly lived upon the reputation of some diamonds, and her family connexions.
'My friend Dombey, Ma'am,' returned the Major, 'may be devoted to her in secret, but a man who is paramount in the greatest city in the universe -
'No one can be a stranger,' said Mrs Skewton, 'to Mr Dombey's immense influence.'
As Mr Dombey acknowledged the compliment with a bend of his head, the younger lady glancing at him, met his eyes.
'You reside here, Madam?' said Mr Dombey, addressing her.
'No, we have been to a great many places. To Harrogate and Scarborough, and into Devonshire. We have been visiting, and resting here and there. Mama likes change.'
'Edith of course does not,' said Mrs Skewton, with a ghastly archness.
'I have not found that there is any change in such places,' was the answer, delivered with supreme indifference.
'They libel me. There is only one change, Mr Dombey,' observed Mrs Skewton, with a mincing sigh, 'for which I really care, and that I fear I shall never be permitted to enjoy. People cannot spare one. But seclusion and contemplation are my what-his-name - '
'If you mean Paradise, Mama, you had better say so, to render yourself intelligible,' said the younger lady.
'My dearest Edith,' returned Mrs Skewton, 'you know that I am wholly dependent upon you for those odious names. I assure you, Mr Dombey, Nature intended me for an Arcadian. I am thrown away in society. Cows are my passion. What I have ever sighed for, has been to retreat to a Swiss farm, and live entirely surrounded by cows - and china.'
This curious association of objects, suggesting a remembrance of the celebrated bull who got by mistake into a crockery shop, was received with perfect gravity by Mr Dombey, who intimated his opinion that Nature was, no doubt, a very respectable institution.
'What I want,' drawled Mrs Skewton, pinching her shrivelled throat, 'is heart.' It was frightfully true in one sense, if not in that in which she used the phrase. 'What I want, is frankness, confidence, less conventionality, and freer play of soul. We are so dreadfully artificial.'
We were, indeed.
'In short,' said Mrs Skewton, 'I want Nature everywhere. It would be so extremely charming.'
'Nature is inviting us away now, Mama, if you are ready,' said the younger lady, curling her handsome lip. At this hint, the wan page, who had been surveying the party over the top of the chair, vanished behind it, as if the ground had swallowed him up.
'Stop a moment, Withers!' said Mrs Skewton, as the chair began to move; calling to the page with all the languid dignity with which she had called in days of yore to a coachman with a wig, cauliflower nosegay, and silk stockings. 'Where are you staying, abomination?' The Major was staying at the Royal Hotel, with his friend Dombey.
'You may come and see us any evening when you are good,' lisped Mrs Skewton. 'If Mr Dombey will honour us, we shall be happy. Withers, go on!'
The Major again pressed to his blue lips the tips of the fingers that were disposed on the ledge of the wheeled chair with careful carelessness, after the Cleopatra model: and Mr Dombey bowed. The elder lady honoured them both with a very gracious smile and a girlish wave of her hand; the younger lady with the very slightest inclination of her head that common courtesy allowed.
The last glimpse of the wrinkled face of the mother, with that patched colour on it which the sun made infinitely more haggard and dismal than any want of colour could have been, and of the proud beauty of the daughter with her graceful figure and erect deportment, engendered such an involuntary disposition on the part of both the Major and Mr Dombey to look after them, that they both turned at the same moment. The Page, nearly as much aslant as his own shadow, was toiling after the chair, uphill, like a slow battering-ram; the top of Cleopatra's bonnet was fluttering in exactly the same corner to the inch as before; and the Beauty, loitering by herself a little in advance, expressed in all her elegant form, from head to foot, the same supreme disregard of everything and everybody.
'I tell you what, Sir,' said the Major, as they resumed their walk again. 'If Joe Bagstock were a younger man, there's not a woman in the world whom he'd prefer for Mrs Bagstock to that woman. By George, Sir!' said the Major, 'she's superb!'
'Do you mean the daughter?' inquired Mr Dombey.
'Is Joey B. a turnip, Dombey,' said the Major, 'that he should mean the mother?'
'You were complimentary to the mother,' returned Mr Dombey.
'An ancient flame, Sir,' chuckled Major Bagstock. 'Devilish ancient. I humour her.'
'She impresses me as being perfectly genteel,' said Mr Dombey.
'Genteel, Sir,' said the Major, stopping short, and staring in his companion's face. 'The Honourable Mrs Skewton, Sir, is sister to the late Lord Feenix, and aunt to the present Lord. The family are not wealthy - they're poor, indeed - and she lives upon a small jointure; but if you come to blood, Sir!' The Major gave a flourish with his stick and walked on again, in despair of being able to say what you came to, if you came to that.
'You addressed the daughter, I observed,' said Mr Dombey, after a short pause, 'as Mrs Granger.'
'Edith Skewton, Sir,' returned the Major, stopping short again, and punching a mark in the ground with his cane, to represent her, 'married (at eighteen) Granger of Ours;' whom the Major indicated by another punch. 'Granger, Sir,' said the Major, tapping the last ideal portrait, and rolling his head emphatically, 'was Colonel of Ours; a de-vilish handsome fellow, Sir, of forty-one. He died, Sir, in the second year of his marriage.' The Major ran the representative of the deceased Granger through and through the body with his walking-stick, and went on again, carrying his stick over his shoulder.
'How long is this ago?' asked Mr Dombey, making another halt.
'Edith Granger, Sir,' replied the Major, shutting one eye, putting his head on one side, passing his cane into his left hand, and smoothing his shirt-frill with his right, 'is, at this present time, not quite thirty. And damme, Sir,' said the Major, shouldering his stick once more, and walking on again, 'she's a peerless woman!'
'Was there any family?' asked Mr Dombey presently.
'Yes, Sir,' said the Major. 'There was a boy.'
Mr Dombey's eyes sought the ground, and a shade came over his face.
'Who was drowned, Sir,' pursued the Major. 'When a child of four or five years old.'
'Indeed?' said Mr Dombey, raising his head.
'By the upsetting of a boat in which his nurse had no business to have put him,' said the Major. 'That's his history. Edith Granger is Edith Granger still; but if tough old Joey B., Sir, were a little younger and a little richer, the name of that immortal paragon should be Bagstock.'
The Major heaved his shoulders, and his cheeks, and laughed more like an over-fed Mephistopheles than ever, as he said the words.
'Provided the lady made no objection, I suppose?' said Mr Dombey coldly.
'By Gad, Sir,' said the Major, 'the Bagstock breed are not accustomed to that sort of obstacle. Though it's true enough that Edith might have married twenty times, but for being proud, Sir, proud.'
Mr Dombey seemed, by his face, to think no worse of her for that.
'It's a great quality after all,' said the Major. 'By the Lord, it's a high quality! Dombey! You are proud yourself, and your friend, Old Joe, respects you for it, Sir.'
With this tribute to the character of his ally, which seemed to be wrung from him by the force of circumstances and the irresistible tendency of their conversation, the Major closed the subject, and glided into a general exposition of the extent to which he had been beloved and doted on by splendid women and brilliant creatures.
On the next day but one, Mr Dombey and the Major encountered the Honourable Mrs Skewton and her daughter in the Pump-room; on the day after, they met them again very near the place where they had met them first. After meeting them thus, three or four times in all, it became a point of mere civility to old acquaintances that the Major should go there one evening. Mr Dombey had not originally intended to pay visits, but on the Major announcing this intention, he said he would have the pleasure of accompanying him. So the Major told the Native to go round before dinner, and say, with his and Mr Dombey's compliments, that they would have the honour of visiting the ladies that same evening, if the ladies were alone. In answer to which message, the Native brought back a very small note with a very large quantity of scent about it, indited by the Honourable Mrs Skewton to Major Bagstock, and briefly saying, 'You are a shocking bear and I have a great mind not to forgive you, but if you are very good indeed,' which was underlined, 'you may come. Compliments (in which Edith unites) to Mr Dombey.'
The Honourable Mrs Skewton and her daughter, Mrs Granger, resided, while at Leamington, in lodgings that were fashionable enough and dear enough, but rather limited in point of space and conveniences; so that the Honourable Mrs Skewton, being in bed, had her feet in the window and her head in the fireplace, while the Honourable Mrs Skewton's maid was quartered in a closet within the drawing-room, so extremely small, that, to avoid developing the whole of its accommodations, she was obliged to writhe in and out of the door like a beautiful serpent. Withers, the wan page, slept out of the house immediately under the tiles at a neighbouring milk-shop; and the wheeled chair, which was the stone of that young Sisyphus, passed the night in a shed belonging to the same dairy, where new-laid eggs were produced by the poultry connected with the establishment, who roosted on a broken donkey-cart, persuaded, to all appearance, that it grew there, and was a species of tree.
Mr Dombey and the Major found Mrs Skewton arranged, as Cleopatra, among the cushions of a sofa: very airily dressed; and certainly not resembling Shakespeare's Cleopatra, whom age could not wither. On their way upstairs they had heard the sound of a harp, but it had ceased on their being announced, and Edith now stood beside it handsomer and haughtier than ever. It was a remarkable characteristic of this lady's beauty that it appeared to vaunt and assert itself without her aid, and against her will. She knew that she was beautiful: it was impossible that it could be otherwise: but she seemed with her own pride to defy her very self.
Whether she held cheap attractions that could only call forth admiration that was worthless to her, or whether she designed to render them more precious to admirers by this usage of them, those to whom they were precious seldom paused to consider.
'I hope, Mrs Granger,' said Mr Dombey, advancing a step towards her, 'we are not the cause of your ceasing to play?'
'You! oh no!'
'Why do you not go on then, my dearest Edith?' said Cleopatra.
'I left off as I began - of my own fancy.'
The exquisite indifference of her manner in saying this: an indifference quite removed from dulness or insensibility, for it was pointed with proud purpose: was well set off by the carelessness with which she drew her hand across the strings, and came from that part of the room.
'Do you know, Mr Dombey,' said her languishing mother, playing with a hand-screen, 'that occasionally my dearest Edith and myself actually almost differ - '
'Not quite, sometimes, Mama?' said Edith.
'Oh never quite, my darling! Fie, fie, it would break my heart,' returned her mother, making a faint attempt to pat her with the screen, which Edith made no movement to meet, ' - about these old conventionalities of manner that are observed in little things? Why are we not more natural? Dear me! With all those yearnings, and gushings, and impulsive throbbings that we have implanted in our souls, and which are so very charming, why are we not more natural?'
Mr Dombey said it was very true, very true.
'We could be more natural I suppose if we tried?' said Mrs Skewton.
Mr Dombey thought it possible.
'Devil a bit, Ma'am,' said the Major. 'We couldn't afford it. Unless the world was peopled with J.B.'s - tough and blunt old Joes, Ma'am, plain red herrings with hard roes, Sir - we couldn't afford it. It wouldn't do.'
'You naughty Infidel,' said Mrs Skewton, 'be mute.'
'Cleopatra commands,' returned the Major, kissing his hand, 'and Antony Bagstock obeys.'
'The man has no sensitiveness,' said Mrs Skewton, cruelly holding up the hand-screen so as to shut the Major out. 'No sympathy. And what do we live for but sympathy! What else is so extremely charming! Without that gleam of sunshine on our cold cold earth,' said Mrs Skewton, arranging her lace tucker, and complacently observing the effect of her bare lean arm, looking upward from the wrist, 'how could we possibly bear it? In short, obdurate man!' glancing at the Major, round the screen, 'I would have my world all heart; and Faith is so excessively charming, that I won't allow you to disturb it, do you hear?'
The Major replied that it was hard in Cleopatra to require the world to be all heart, and yet to appropriate to herself the hearts of all the world; which obliged Cleopatra to remind him that flattery was insupportable to her, and that if he had the boldness to address her in that strain any more, she would positively send him home.
Withers the Wan, at this period, handing round the tea, Mr Dombey again addressed himself to Edith.
'There is not much company here, it would seem?' said Mr Dombey, in his own portentous gentlemanly way.
'I believe not. We see none.'
'Why really,' observed Mrs Skewton fom her couch, 'there are no people here just now with whom we care to associate.'
'They have not enough heart,' said Edith, with a smile. The very twilight of a smile: so singularly were its light and darkness blended.
'My dearest Edith rallies me, you see!' said her mother, shaking her head: which shook a little of itself sometimes, as if the palsy Bed now and then in opposition to the diamonds. 'Wicked one!'
'You have been here before, if I am not mistaken?' said Mr Dombey. Still to Edith.
'Oh, several times. I think we have been everywhere.'
'A beautiful country!'
'I suppose it is. Everybody says so.'
'Your cousin Feenix raves about it, Edith,' interposed her mother from her couch.
The daughter slightly turned her graceful head, and raising her eyebrows by a hair's-breadth, as if her cousin Feenix were of all the mortal world the least to be regarded, turned her eyes again towards Mr Dombey.
'I hope, for the credit of my good taste, that I am tired of the neighbourhood,' she said.
'You have almost reason to be, Madam,' he replied, glancing at a variety of landscape drawings, of which he had already recognised several as representing neighbouring points of view, and which were strewn abundantly about the room, 'if these beautiful productions are from your hand.'
She gave him no reply, but sat in a disdainful beauty, quite amazing.
'Have they that interest?' said Mr Dombey. 'Are they yours?'
'Yes.'
'And you play, I already know.'
'Yes.'
'And sing?'
'Yes.'
She answered all these questions with a strange reluctance; and with that remarkable air of opposition to herself, already noticed as belonging to her beauty. Yet she was not embarrassed, but wholly self-possessed. Neither did she seem to wish to avoid the conversation, for she addressed her face, and - so far as she could - her manner also, to him; and continued to do so, when he was silent.
'You have many resources against weariness at least,' said Mr Dombey.
'Whatever their efficiency may be,' she returned, 'you know them all now. I have no more.
'May I hope to prove them all?' said Mr Dombey, with solemn gallantry, laying down a drawing he had held, and motioning towards the harp.
'Oh certainly) If you desire it!'
She rose as she spoke, and crossing by her mother's couch, and directing a stately look towards her, which was instantaneous in its duration, but inclusive (if anyone had seen it) of a multitude of expressions, among which that of the twilight smile, without the smile itself, overshadowed all the rest, went out of the room.
The Major, who was quite forgiven by this time, had wheeled a little table up to Cleopatra, and was sitting down to play picquet with her. Mr Dombey, not knowing the game, sat down to watch them for his edification until Edith should return.
'We are going to have some music, Mr Dombey, I hope?' said Cleopatra.
'Mrs Granger has been kind enough to promise so,' said Mr Dombey.
'Ah! That's very nice. Do you propose, Major?'
'No, Ma'am,' said the Major. 'Couldn't do it.'
'You're a barbarous being,' replied the lady, 'and my hand's destroyed. You are fond of music, Mr Dombey?'
'Eminently so,' was Mr Dombey's answer.
'Yes. It's very nice,' said Cleopatra, looking at her cards. 'So much heart in it - undeveloped recollections of a previous state of existence' - and all that - which is so truly charming. Do you know,' simpered Cleopatra, reversing the knave of clubs, who had come into her game with his heels uppermost, 'that if anything could tempt me to put a period to my life, it would be curiosity to find out what it's all about, and what it means; there are so many provoking mysteries, really, that are hidden from us. Major, you to play.'
The Major played; and Mr Dombey, looking on for his instruction, would soon have been in a state of dire confusion, but that he gave no attention to the game whatever, and sat wondering instead when Edith would come back.
She came at last, and sat down to her harp, and Mr Dombey rose and stood beside her, listening. He had little taste for music, and no knowledge of the strain she played, but he saw her bending over it, and perhaps he heard among the sounding strings some distant music of his own, that tamed the monster of the iron road, and made it less inexorable.
Cleopatra had a sharp eye, verily, at picquet. It glistened like a bird's, and did not fix itself upon the game, but pierced the room from end to end, and gleamed on harp, performer, listener, everything.
When the haughty beauty had concluded, she arose, and receiving Mr Dombey's thanks and compliments in exactly the same manner as before, went with scarcely any pause to the piano, and began there.
Edith Granger, any song but that! Edith Granger, you are very handsome, and your touch upon the keys is brilliant, and your voice is deep and rich; but not the air that his neglected daughter sang to his dead son)
Alas, he knows it not; and if he did, what air of hers would stir him, rigid man! Sleep, lonely Florence, sleep! Peace in thy dreams, although the night has turned dark, and the clouds are gathering, and threaten to discharge themselves in hail!
少校和董贝先生手挽着手，沿着街道上晒到阳光的一边走去；少校的脸色更加发青，眼睛鼓得更加凸出——好像比过去成熟得更过度了——，并不时发出一声马的咳嗽般的声音，这与其说是出于必要，倒还不如说是本能地要装出自尊自大的神气；他的脸颊涨鼓鼓地悬垂在紧绷绷的衣领上，两只腿威风凛凛地跨得很开，大大的头从一边摇晃到另一边，仿佛在心里责备自己为什么要成为这样有魅力的人物。他们没有走好多码远，少校遇到了一位熟人；没有再走几码远，他又遇到了另一位熟人；但是他走过的时候，只是向他们挥动一下手指头，就继续领着董贝先生向前走；一路上向他指点名胜地点，并讲一些使他联想起来的奇闻怪事，使散步增添生趣。
当少校和董贝先生这样手挽着手、洋洋自得地向前走着的时候，他们看到前面一个轮椅正向他们移动过来；椅子里坐着一位夫人正懒洋洋地操纵着前面的舵轮，驾驶着她的车子，后面则由一种看不见的力量推着。这位夫人虽然并不年轻，但面容却很娇艳——十分红润——，她的服装和姿态也完全跟妙龄女郎一样。一位年轻得多的女士在轮椅旁边悠闲地走着；她露出一种高傲而疲倦的神色，举着一把薄纱洋伞，仿佛必须立即放弃这个十分伟大的努力，让洋伞掉下去似的；她很美丽，很傲慢，很任性；她高昂着头，低垂着眼皮，仿佛世界上除了镜子之外，如果有什么值得观看的东西，那么它肯定不是地面或天空。
“哎呀，我们遇见什么魔鬼啦，先生！”当这一小队人马走近的时候，少校停下脚步，喊道。
“我最亲爱的伊迪丝！”轮椅中的夫人慢声慢气地说道，“白格斯托克少校！”
少校一听到这个声音，就放下董贝先生的胳膊，向前奔去，然后拉起椅子中的夫人的手，紧贴着他的嘴唇。少校以同样殷勤的态度，把两只戴着手套的手在胸前合拢，向另一位女士深深地鞠躬。现在，轮椅停下来了，原动力也显露出来了；那是一位满脸涨得通红的童仆，就是他在后面推着轮椅的；他似乎因为个子长得过大，又过分用力，所以当他挺直站立起来的时候，他看去高大、消瘦、脸无血色。由于他像东方国家的大象那样用头顶着车子推动它前进，因此他的帽子的形状也被损坏了，这就使他的境况显得更加悲惨可怜。
“乔•白格斯托克，”少校向两位女士说道，“在他这一生的其余日子里是个自豪和幸福的人。”
“你这个虚伪的东西！”椅子里的夫人有气无力地说道，“你从那里来？我不能容忍你。”
“那么，请允许老乔向您介绍一位朋友吧，夫人，”少校立即说道，“希望这能成为得到您宽恕的理由。董贝先生，斯丘顿夫人。”椅子中的夫人和蔼亲切，彬彬有礼。
“董贝先生，格兰杰夫人。”拿阳伞的女士略略注意了一下董贝先生脱下帽子和深深地鞠躬。“我真高兴能有这样的机会，先生。”少校说道。
少校似乎是认真的，因为他看着所有三个人，并以他最丑恶的神态把眼睛溜来溜去。
“董贝，”少校说道，“斯丘顿夫人蹂躏了老乔希的心。”
董贝先生表示他对这并不惊奇。
“你这背信弃义的恶鬼，”椅子中的夫人说道，“什么也别说了！你到这里有多久了，坏人？”
“一天，”少校回答道。
“难道你能在这里待上一天或哪怕是一分钟，”那位夫人接着说道，一边用扇子轻轻地整了整她的假卷发和假眉毛，露出了被她的假容颜衬托得格外清楚的假牙齿。“在这——叫什么的园中——”
“我想是伊甸园①吧，妈妈，”年轻的女士轻蔑地打断道。
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①伊甸园：《圣经》故事说，上帝创造了男人亚当和女人夏娃，安排他们住在伊甸园中。伊甸园中河流两岸生长着各种花草树木，还有各种飞禽走兽。亚当与夏娃住在伊甸园中最初过着无忧无虑的生活，因此伊甸园转义为极乐园。
“我最亲爱的伊迪丝，”另一位说道，“我没有办法。我永远也记不住这些可怕的名字——难道你能在这伊甸园中待上一天，哪怕是一分钟而没有让你整个灵魂和整个人受到大自然的壮观的鼓舞吗？又难道能使它不被大自然那纯洁的呼吸的芳香所鼓舞吗？你这个东西！”斯丘顿夫人说道，一边沙沙作声地挥着一块手绢，散发出闷人的、令人欲呕的香气。
斯丘顿夫人活泼热情的语言与她那衰弱无力的声调那么不相配，就跟她的年龄——大约七十岁——与她的服装——二十七岁的人穿起来也显得年轻——不相配一样令人注目。她坐在轮椅中的姿态（她从不改变这个姿态），正是大约五十年前她坐在双马四轮大马车中、由当时一位风靡一时的画家画下的姿态；这幅肖像画发表的时候他还给加上一个名字：克利奥佩特拉①，这是由于当时的评论家们发现她和这位女王斜倚在单层甲板大帆船时的风貌维妙维肖的缘故。斯丘顿夫人当时是一位美人，花花公子们几十次举杯向她致敬。现在美貌和双马四轮大马车全都不再存在了，但她依旧保持着这个姿态，而且特别由于这个原因，还依旧保留了那个轮椅并雇佣了那个用头推车的童仆；除了这个姿态外，没有任何其他原因妨碍她走路。
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①克利奥佩特拉（Cleopatra，公元前69—30年），古埃及最后一位女王，姿色艳丽，在位期间为公元前51—49年及48—30年。
“我相信，董贝先生是热爱大自然的吧？”斯丘顿夫人整整她的钻石胸针，说道。这里顺便说一句，她主要是依靠她有一些钻石的名声和她的家族关系过日子的。
“夫人，”少校回答道，“我的朋友董贝也许在内心深处热爱大自然，但是一位在世界上最大城市中头等重要的人物——”
“谁也不会不知道董贝先生的巨大影响，”斯丘顿夫人说道。
董贝先生点了点头答谢这个恭维，这时那位年轻的女士向他看了一眼，碰见了他的眼光。
“您在这里居住吗，夫人，”董贝先生向她致意道。
“不，我们在很多地方待过——哈罗盖特①，斯卡伯勒②和德文郡③。我们一直在参观游览，这里停停，那里停停。妈妈喜欢变换环境。”
“伊迪丝当然是不喜欢变换环境的罗，”斯丘顿夫人故意调笑逗趣地说道。
“我看不出这些地方有什么差别，”非常冷淡的回答。
“他们诽谤我。只有一个变换是我真正向往的，董贝先生，”斯丘顿夫人装腔作势地叹了一口气，说道，“恐怕永远也不允许我享受到这变换后的乐趣了。人们不能宽恕一个人。
对我来说，隐居和沉思才是我们——叫什么来的？”
“如果你的意思是说乐园，妈妈，你最好就这样说出来，好让别人听明白你的意思，”年轻的女人说道。
“我最亲爱的伊迪丝，”斯丘顿夫人回答道，“你知道，我完全靠你给我记这些讨厌的名字。我敢向您保证说，董贝先生，大自然打算让我成为一个阿卡底亚④人。我在社会上已经被抛弃了。牛群就是我的爱好。我所梦寐以求的就是隐居到一个瑞士的农场，完全生活在牛群——与瓷器的环境之中。”
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①哈罗盖特（Harrogate）：英格兰北部约克郡的自治市，是游览胜地。
②斯卡伯勒（Scarborough）：英格兰北部约克郡的自治市，是海滨游览胜地。
③德文郡（Devonshire）：英格兰西南部的一个郡，是英格兰第三大郡。
④阿卡底亚：古希腊山地牧区，是风光明媚、人情淳朴的理想乡，类似我国的世外桃源。
这两个事物被这样奇妙地拼搭在一起，使人联想起那头误入瓷器店的公牛①；董贝先生十分认真地听着；他发表意见说，大自然无疑是个很值得尊敬的创造。
“我所需要的，”斯丘顿夫人捏着她干瘪的喉咙，慢声慢气地说道，“就是心。”她所说的这一点在某种意义上是可怕地正确的②，虽然这并不是她所想要表达的意思，“我所需要的是坦率、信任、少些客套和让心灵自由奔放。我们是多么可怕地虚假呀。”
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①闯进瓷器店的公牛（abullinachinashop）：英国成语，通常用来形容鲁莽闯祸的人。
②指她的心脏已经哀老，需要换颗新的了。
我们的确是这样。
“总之，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“我到处都需要自然。那会是多么可爱啊。”
“大自然现在邀请我们上别处去了，妈妈，如果你同意的话，”年轻的女士歪着美丽的嘴唇，说道。脸无血色的童仆一直站在椅子背后观察着这一伙人，这时听到这个暗示以后，就在椅子后面消失不见了，仿佛土地已经把他吞下去似的。
“等一会儿，威瑟斯，”当椅子开始移动的时候，斯丘顿夫人无精打采而又端庄威严地向童仆呼喊道；她在往昔的日子里就是用这样的神态呼喊戴着假发、拿着菜花的花束、穿着长统丝袜的车夫的。“你待在哪里，可恶的人？”
少校和他的朋友董贝住在皇家旅馆。
“如果你已经改邪归正的话，你可以在任何一个晚上来看我们，”斯丘顿夫人吐字不清地说道，“如果董贝先生肯大驾光临的话，那么我们将感到不胜荣幸。威瑟斯，走吧！”
少校又一次把她那模仿克利奥佩特拉的姿态，故意漫不经心地搁在轮椅横边上的指尖紧紧压在他的发青的嘴唇上；董贝先生则向她们鞠躬。年老的夫人对他们两人和蔼可亲地微笑了一下，少女似地挥了挥手，作为回礼；年轻的女士则按照通常的礼貌，极为轻轻地点了点头。
母亲那皱巴巴的脸孔，上面敷盖着一层饰颜片①的颜色，在阳光下比没有任何颜色显得更加枯槁和丑陋；女儿则身材优美，举止高雅；少校和董贝向那位母亲的脸孔与那位女儿高傲而美丽的容貌看了最后一眼之后，都情不自禁地希望目送着她们离开，所以两人都在同一个瞬间转回了身子，童仆身子几乎和他自己的影子一样倾斜，正像一个缓慢的破城槌②一样，辛辛苦苦地推着椅子上坡；克利奥佩特拉的软帽丝毫不差地在原先的部位上摆动；那位美人独自一人稍稍走在前面，在她从头到脚的整个优雅的身形中，跟原先一样，表露出完全目空一切事物和一切人们的神情。
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①饰颜片：17、18世纪时，欧洲妇女贴在脸上增加美观的小绸片。
②破城槌：古代攻打城门，向城门猛烈敲打的槌子。
“这是我要跟您说的，先生，”当他们重新散步的时候，少校说道，“如果乔•白格斯托克比现在年轻一些，除了那个女人，世界上没有别的女人他最愿意娶来当白格斯托克夫人的了。确实是这样，先生！”少校说，“她是绝色佳人啊。”
“您是指女儿吗？”董贝先生问道。
“难道乔•白是个萝卜吗，董贝，他竟会指母亲？”少校说。
“您刚才恭维母亲啊，”董贝先生说道。
“那是旧日的情焰啦，先生，”白格斯托克少校吃吃地笑道，“非常非常旧的了。我迎合她。”
“我觉得她完全是上流社会中有很好教养的人。”董贝先生说。
“上流社会中有很好教养的人，先生！”少校突然停下来，凝视着他的旅伴的脸孔，说道，“尊贵的斯丘顿夫人，先生，是已故的那位菲尼克斯勋爵的妹妹，现在那位菲尼克斯勋爵的姑妈。这个家庭并不富有——事实上他们是穷的——，她依靠从丈夫那里继承下来的一点财产过活。但是如果您要提到门第的话，先生！”少校挥了挥手杖，继续往前走，觉得毫无办法解释如果您要提到那一点的话，您将会怎么样。
“我注意到，”董贝先生在短暂的沉默后说道，“您称那位女儿为格兰杰夫人。”
“伊迪丝•斯丘顿，先生，”少校回答道，又突然停下来，用手杖在地上戳了个小坑来代表她，“十八岁的时候嫁给我们部队的格兰杰；”少校又戳了一个小坑来代表他。“格兰杰，先生，”少校用手杖敲敲第二个想象中的画像，富于表情地摇晃着脑袋，说道，“是我们部队的上校，一位非常非常英俊的家伙，先生，四十一岁。在结婚的第二年，先生，他死了。”少校用手杖向代表已故的格兰杰的身体戳下去，戳下去，然后把手杖挂在肩膀上，继续向前走。
“这是多久的事了？”董贝先生又踌躇了一会儿以后问道。
“伊迪丝•格兰杰，先生，”少校闭上一只眼睛，头歪到一侧，把手杖递到左手，右手抚平衬衫的褶边，回答道，“现在还不到三十岁。他妈的，先生，”少校说道，一边又把手杖挂到肩膀上，重新向前走，“她是举世无双的女人！”
“有孩子吗？”董贝先生不久问道。
“有，先生，”少校说，“有一个男孩。”
董贝先生的眼睛凝视着地面，脸上罩上了一层阴影。
“他淹死了，先生，”少校继续说道，“那时他四、五岁。”
“真的吗？”董贝先生抬起头来问道。
“由于小船翻了的缘故，他的保姆本来不应该把他放到小船上去的，”少校说道，“这就是他的历史。伊迪丝•格兰杰依然还是伊迪丝•格兰杰；但是如果坚强不屈的老乔埃•白•年轻一些，有钱一些的话。先生，那么这位不朽的尤物就该姓白格斯托克了。”
少校说这些话的时候，肩膀和脸颊一起一伏地颤动着，同时放声大笑着，比先前更像是个吃喝过度的梅菲斯托菲尔斯。
“您是说如果那位女士不反对的话，我想，”董贝先生冷冰冰地说道。
“天哪，先生，”少校说道，“白格斯托克家族的人是不考虑这一类障碍的。不过，这倒也确实不错，伊迪丝要不是因为高傲，本该结过二十次婚了，先生，就因为高傲啊。”
从董贝先生脸上的表情看来，他并不因为这个原因对她产生坏的想法。
“这毕竟是个伟大的品质，”少校说道，“我敢向天主发誓，这是个高贵的品质！董贝！您本人也是高傲的，您的朋友老乔由于这个缘故而尊敬您，先生。”
少校似乎是由于形势所迫，也是由于他们谈话不可抗拒的趋势，对他的旅伴的性格说出了这番颂辞，然后就结束了这个话题，改为泛泛地谈论那些出色的女人与漂亮的人儿怎样对他钟情和宠爱的事情。
隔一天以后，董贝先生和少校在矿泉饮水处遇见了斯丘顿夫人和她的女儿；第二天，他们又在他们第一次遇见她们的地方的附近遇见了她们。这样遇见她们三、四次之后，老熟人之间的礼貌要求少校该在一个晚上去看看她们。董贝先生最初并不打算拜访，但当少校表明他的意向后，他说他将高兴陪他去。因此少校在晚饭前吩咐本地人前去她们那里转达他和董贝先生的问候，并告诉她们，如果没有别人在那里的话，他们当天晚上将荣幸地前去拜访她们两位女士。本地人带回来一张很小的散发出大量香水气味的便条，那是尊贵的斯丘顿夫人写给白格斯托克少校的，作为对带去的口信的回答。便条上写着：“你是头坏透了的熊。我真不想饶恕你。但是如果你现在已经走上正路，确实很好的话，”她在这下面划上了横线，“那么你可以来。请代我（连同伊迪丝）向董贝先生致意。”
斯丘顿夫人和她的女儿格兰杰夫人在莱明顿期间居住在很时髦、很昂贵，但面积和设备却相当有限的寓所中；因此，当斯丘顿夫人躺在床上的时候，她的脚得搁到窗子上，她的头得搁到壁炉上；斯丘顿夫人的女仆挤住在会客室中的一个极小的壁橱里；为了不露出它里面的全部东西，她得像一条美丽的蛇一样，扭进门里去，并从门里扭出来。童仆威瑟斯不是睡在这个屋子里，而是睡在邻近牛奶店的屋顶下；这位年轻的西西弗斯的石头①—轮椅在同一个牛奶店的棚屋里过夜；这家店铺的鸡鸭在棚屋里下蛋，它们栖息在一辆破旧的二轮驴车上；显然，它们相信这车子是生长在那里的一种树木。
董贝先生和少校看到斯丘顿夫人穿着很轻薄的衣衫，采取克利奥佩特拉的姿态，坐在一张沙发的软垫中间，当然并不像莎士比亚笔下那年龄不能使她衰老的克利奥佩特拉②。他们走上楼的时候，曾听到竖琴的声音，但当通报他们来到的时候，琴声停止了，伊迪丝比先前更美丽更傲慢地站在琴边。这位女士的美貌有一个特点，就是不用她本人帮助，而且违反她本人的意愿，就自我宣扬出来，自我肯定下来。她知道她是美丽的，不可能不是这样，但她似乎高傲地公然反抗自己。
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①西西弗斯（Sisyphus）：希腊神话中的科林斯王，因生时作恶多端，得罪了神，死后堕入地狱，被罚推石上山，但石到山顶的时候就要倒滚下来，永远如此，使他劳苦不已。
②见莎士比亚所著戏剧《安东尼与克利奥佩特拉》第二幕第二场：
爱诺巴勃斯：“不，他决不会丢弃她，年龄不能使她衰老，习惯也腐蚀不了她的变化无穷的伎俩。别的女人使人日久生厌，她却越是给人满足，越是使人饥渴；……”
究竟是她不重视她那只能引起对她爱慕（这种爱慕对她是毫无价值的）的魅力呢，还是她有意这样对待她的魅力，使那些爱慕者感到这种魅力更为宝贵呢，那些把这种魅力看得很宝贵的人们很少停下来想一想。
“格兰杰夫人，”董贝先生向她走近一步，说道，“我希望，我们不是使您停止弹琴的原因吧？”
“•你•们？哦，不！”
“那么你为什么不继续弹下去呢，我最亲爱的伊迪丝？”克利奥佩特拉问道。
“我弹不弹——都随我自己喜欢。”
她讲这些话时态度非常冷淡；这种冷淡与感觉迟钝或麻木不仁截然不同，因为它是由于高傲的原因而有意显露出来的；这时她用手带过琴弦，走到房间的另一端去；她那漫不经心的神态把她的冷淡衬托得更为突出。
“您知道吗，董贝先生，”衰弱无力的母亲玩弄着一块手提的遮光板，说道，“我最亲爱的伊迪丝偶尔跟我的意见实际上几乎是不一致的——”
“不是偶尔吧，我们不是时常不一致吗，妈妈？”伊迪丝说道。
“啊，不，我亲爱的宝贝！别那么说，那会使我很伤心的，”她的母亲回答道，一边想用遮光板轻轻拍打她，伊迪丝却没有挨近去让她拍打，“在一些小事情上，在待人接物的态度方面必须遵守的严格的陈规旧俗上，我的伊迪丝是经常跟我意见不一致的，是不是？为什么我们不能更自然些呢？阿，我的天！既然在我们的心灵中灌输进了这些急切的希望、洋溢的热情、激动的感情，而它们又是多么十分可爱，那么为什么我们不能更自然一些呢？”
董贝先生说，她的话说得很对，很对。
“我想，如果我们设法去做，我们就能够更自然一些。”斯丘顿夫人说道。
“绝对不行，夫人，”少校说道，“那样做我们受不了。除非这世界上满都是乔•白——坚强不屈、直肠直肚的老乔，夫人，满都是清淡的带卵的熏鲱鱼，先生——否则我们就受不了，万万不能那样！”
“你这没礼貌的异教徒！”斯丘顿夫人说道，“别吱声！”
“克利奥佩特拉命令，安东尼•白格斯托克服从。①”少校送了一个飞吻，问答道。
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①少校在这里把自己比作马克•安东尼。马克•安东尼（MarkAntony，公元前82A81—30年），是古代罗马卓越的军事与政治预袖，凯撒的亲密同僚。公元前43年，他主管东方各行省，召见埃及女王克利奥佩特拉，成为她的情夫，公元前40年，他回到意大利，与渥大维签订一顶协定，并与渥大维的妹妹结婚；但不出三年，他便与渥大维势不两立，一再去东方与克利奥佩特拉幽会，在与渥大维妹妹离婚后，终于与克利奥佩特拉结为夫妻，并因此成为全体罗马人诛讨的对象。
“这是个麻木不仁的人，”斯丘顿夫人说道，一边狠狠地举起遮光板，把少校挡在外面，“他没有任何同情心；如果没有同情心的话，我们还能生活吗？还有什么别的能像它这么极为可爱的呢？如果没有这道阳光照耀到我们这冰冷冰冷的土地上的话，那么我们怎么可能忍受得了这种寒冷呢？”斯丘顿夫人说，一边整整她的花边领布，得意扬扬地从手腕往上看，观察着她露在衣服外面的枯瘦的胳膊所发挥的作用，“一句话，冷淡无情的人！”她又从遮光板旁边向少校看了一眼，“我想使我的世界全都是心；信仰又是这么非常可爱，因此我不容许你去搅乱它，你听见了没有？”
少校回答说，克利奥佩特拉要求全世界都是心，而且还要求全世界的心都归她占有，这是个苛刻的要求；这迫使克利奥佩特拉提醒他，谄媚是她所不能忍受的，如果他胆敢再用这种腔调来对她说话，那么她一定要把他撵回家去。
这时脸无血色的威瑟斯送上茶来，董贝先生又转向伊迪丝。
“这里似乎没有什么社交活动吧？”董贝先生保持着他那特有的自命不凡的绅士派头，说道。
“我想没有。我们没有看到。”
“啊，真的，”斯丘顿夫人从她的长沙发椅中说道，“现在这里没有什么我们愿意跟他们来往的人。”
“他们没有足够的心，”伊迪丝露出一丝微笑，说道。这是若隐若现的微笑，就像薄暮或黎明，光明与黑暗是多么奇怪地混合在一起。
“你看，我最亲爱的伊迪丝在嘲笑我呢！”母亲摇摇头说道；她的头有时无意在摇着，仿佛麻痹症不时发作一下，要跟不时闪耀着的钻石比赛高低似的。“坏东西！”
“如果我没错，您以前来过这里吧？”董贝先生仍然对着伊迪丝，说道。
“啊，来过好几次了。我想我们什么地方都去过了。”
“这是个美丽的地方！”
“我想是的，人人都这么说。”
“你的表哥菲尼克斯对它喜欢得就像入了迷似的，伊迪丝，”她的母亲从长沙发椅中插嘴道。
女儿轻微地转过她那美丽的头，稍稍扬起眉毛，仿佛她的表哥菲尼克斯是尘世间最不值得注意的人似的；她的眼睛又转向董贝先生。
“考虑到我审美能力的声誉，我希望我对附近的地方都已厌倦了，”她说道。
“您也许很有理由觉得这样吧，夫人，”他朝大量散摆在房间四处的各种风景画看了一眼，说道；他已看出其中有几幅是描写附近的景致的，“如果这些美丽的作品是出于您的手笔的话。”
她没有回答他，而是以目空一切的美人的姿态，十分惊异地坐在那里。
“是不是这样？”董贝先生问道，“它们是不是您画的？”
“是的。”
“您还会弹琴，我早知道了。”
“是的。”
“还会唱歌吧？”
“是的。”
她用奇怪的、勉强的口吻回答这些问题，并露出跟自己对抗的神情；前面已经指出，这是她的美貌的一个特点。可是她并不局促不安，而完全是泰然自若。她似乎也并不希望避开谈话，因为她的脸朝着他，她的态度也尽可能地注意着他；当他沉默的时候，她也依然如此。
“您至少有许多方法来排遣烦闷，”董贝先生说道。
“不管它们的效果怎么样，”她回答道，“这些方法现在您全都知道了。我没有什么别的方法。”
“我可以希望把它们的效果全部证明一下吗？”董贝先生放下手中的一幅图画，指着竖琴，庄严而又殷勤地问道。
“啊，当然可以，如果您愿意的话。”
她一边说，一边站起来；当她走过母亲的长沙发椅时，她向那里投去了庄严的眼光，时间是短促的一瞬，但它却包含了许多表情，其中那若隐若现的微笑把其余的表情都遮蔽了；——她就这样走出了房间。
少校这时得到了完全的宽恕；他把一个有轮子的小桌子推到克利奥佩特拉身旁，坐下来跟她玩皮基特牌①。董贝先生不懂得玩这种纸牌；当伊迪丝没有回来的时候，他就坐下来看他们玩，从中学习。
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①皮基特牌：一种二人玩的纸牌游戏。
“我希望，我们将听到音乐吧，董贝先生？”克利奥佩特拉说道。
“承蒙格兰杰夫人的厚意，她已经答应了，”董贝先生说道。
“啊，好极了。是你建议的吗，少校？”
“不是，夫人，”少校说，“我提不出这样的建议。”
“你是个野蛮人，”那位夫人回答道，“我的手气都给你败坏，打不出好牌来了。您喜欢音乐吧，董贝先生？”
“非常喜欢。”这是董贝先生的回答。
“是的。好极了。”克利奥佩特拉看着纸牌，说道，“音乐包含着许多心，它使人模糊地回想起人类往昔的生存状态——还有很多别的东西，那确实是多么可爱。您可知道，”克利奥佩特拉窃笑着，一边把抓进来的那张脚朝天的梅花杰克掉过头去，“如果有什么东西诱使我结束我的生命的话，那就是想要了解我们周围的一切究竟是什么、它的意义究竟是什么的好奇心；确实，有那么耐人寻味的秘密隐藏着，我们还不知道。少校，你出牌！”
少校出了牌；董贝先生继续看着，从中学习，他本来很早就已完全看不明白了，可是他根本没有注意玩牌，而是坐在那里纳闷：伊迪丝什么时候才会回来呢。
她终于回来了，并且在竖琴前面坐下来；董贝先生站起身来，站在她旁边，听着。他对音乐没有什么欣赏力，对她弹奏的曲调一无所知，但是他看见她向竖琴弯下身子，也许他还在琴弦的声音中听到在什么遥远的地方响起了他自己的音乐；它驯服了铁路这个怪物，使它不像过去那么难以抗拒了。
克利奥佩特拉玩皮基特牌的时候，眼睛确实敏锐。它们像鸟儿的眼睛一样闪着光，而且没有死死盯在纸牌上，而是注视着整个房间，从这一端到那一端，毫无疏漏。它们的光闪射到竖琴上，闪射到弹琴人的身上，闪射到听琴人的身上，闪射到每一样东西上。
傲慢的美人弹完之后，站起来，用跟先前一样的态度接受了董贝先生的感谢与恭维；然后几乎没有停歇地走向钢琴，开始弹奏起来。
伊迪丝•格兰杰，您不论弹唱哪首歌曲都可以，但请别弹唱这首歌曲吧！伊迪丝•格兰杰，您是很标致的，您的指法是出色的，您的声音是深沉和嘹亮的，但是请您别弹唱他的受冷落的女儿曾经唱给他的死去的儿子听的这首歌曲吧！
啊，他没有听出来；如果他听出来的话，还有什么歌曲能像这首歌曲那样，会把他这冷酷的人搅得心神不宁呢！安睡吧。孤独的弗洛伦斯，安睡吧！虽然夜已经黑了，乌云正在密布，好像就要下冰雹了，但祝愿您的梦是安宁的！
Chapter 22
 A Trifle of Management by Mr Carker the Manager
Mr Carker the Manager sat at his desk, smooth and soft as usual, reading those letters which were reserved for him to open, backing them occasionally with such memoranda and references as their business purport required, and parcelling them out into little heaps for distribution through the several departments of the House. The post had come in heavy that morning, and Mr Carker the Manager had a good deal to do.
The general action of a man so engaged - pausing to look over a bundle of papers in his hand, dealing them round in various portions, taking up another bundle and examining its contents with knitted brows and pursed-out lips - dealing, and sorting, and pondering by turns - would easily suggest some whimsical resemblance to a player at cards. The face of Mr Carker the Manager was in good keeping with such a fancy. It was the face of a man who studied his play, warily: who made himself master of all the strong and weak points of the game: who registered the cards in his mind as they fell about him, knew exactly what was on them, what they missed, and what they made: who was crafty to find out what the other players held, and who never betrayed his own hand.
The letters were in various languages, but Mr Carker the Manager read them all. If there had been anything in the offices of Dombey and Son that he could read, there would have been a card wanting in the pack. He read almost at a glance, and made combinations of one letter with another and one business with another as he went on, adding new matter to the heaps - much as a man would know the cards at sight, and work out their combinations in his mind after they were turned. Something too deep for a partner, and much too deep for an adversary, Mr Carker the Manager sat in the rays of the sun that came down slanting on him through the skylight, playing his game alone.
And although it is not among the instincts wild or domestic of the cat tribe to play at cards, feline from sole to crown was Mr Carker the Manager, as he basked in the strip of summer-light and warmth that shone upon his table and the ground as if they were a crooked dial-plate, and himself the only figure on it. With hair and whiskers deficient in colour at all times, but feebler than common in the rich sunshine, and more like the coat of a sandy tortoise-shell cat; with long nails, nicely pared and sharpened; with a natural antipathy to any speck of dirt, which made him pause sometimes and watch the falling motes of dust, and rub them off his smooth white hand or glossy linen: Mr Carker the Manager, sly of manner, sharp of tooth, soft of foot, watchful of eye, oily of tongue, cruel of heart, nice of habit, sat with a dainty steadfastness and patience at his work, as if he were waiting at a mouse's hole.
At length the letters were disposed of, excepting one which he reserved for a particular audience. Having locked the more confidential correspondence in a drawer, Mr Carker the Manager rang his bell.
'Why do you answer it?' was his reception of his brother.
'The messenger is out, and I am the next,' was the submissive reply.
'You are the next?' muttered the Manager. 'Yes! Creditable to me! There!'
Pointing to the heaps of opened letters, he turned disdainfully away, in his elbow-chair, and broke the seal of that one which he held in his hand.
'I am sorry to trouble you, James,' said the brother, gathering them up, 'but - '
'Oh! you have something to say. I knew that. Well?'
Mr Carker the Manager did not raise his eyes or turn them on his brother, but kept them on his letter, though without opening it.
'Well?' he repeated sharply.
'I am uneasy about Harriet.'
'Harriet who? what Harriet? I know nobody of that name.'
'She is not well, and has changed very much of late.'
'She changed very much, a great many years ago,' replied the Manager; 'and that is all I have to say.
'I think if you would hear me -
'Why should I hear you, Brother John?' returned the Manager, laying a sarcastic emphasis on those two words, and throwing up his head, but not lifting his eyes. 'I tell you, Harriet Carker made her choice many years ago between her two brothers. She may repent it, but she must abide by it.'
'Don't mistake me. I do not say she does repent it. It would be black ingratitude in me to hint at such a thing,' returned the other. 'Though believe me, James, I am as sorry for her sacrifice as you.'
'As I?' exclaimed the Manager. 'As I?'
'As sorry for her choice - for what you call her choice - as you are angry at it,' said the Junior.
'Angry?' repeated the other, with a wide show of his teeth.
'Displeased. Whatever word you like best. You know my meaning. There is no offence in my intention.'
'There is offence in everything you do,' replied his brother, glancing at him with a sudden scowl, which in a moment gave place to a wider smile than the last. 'Carry those papers away, if you please. I am busy.
His politeness was so much more cutting than his wrath, that the Junior went to the door. But stopping at it, and looking round, he said:
'When Harriet tried in vain to plead for me with you, on your first just indignation, and my first disgrace; and when she left you, James, to follow my broken fortunes, and devote herself, in her mistaken affection, to a ruined brother, because without her he had no one, and was lost; she was young and pretty. I think if you could see her now - if you would go and see her - she would move your admiration and compassion.'
The Manager inclined his head, and showed his teeth, as who should say, in answer to some careless small-talk, 'Dear me! Is that the case?' but said never a word.
'We thought in those days: you and I both: that she would marry young, and lead a happy and light-hearted life,' pursued the other. 'Oh if you knew how cheerfully she cast those hopes away; how cheerfully she has gone forward on the path she took, and never once looked back; you never could say again that her name was strange in your ears. Never!'
Again the Manager inclined his head and showed his teeth, and seemed to say, 'Remarkable indeed! You quite surprise me!' And again he uttered never a word.
'May I go on?' said John Carker, mildly.
'On your way?' replied his smiling brother. 'If you will have the goodness.
John Carker, with a sigh, was passing slowly out at the door, when his brother's voice detained him for a moment on the threshold.
'If she has gone, and goes, her own way cheerfully,' he said, throwing the still unfolded letter on his desk, and putting his hands firmly in his pockets, 'you may tell her that I go as cheerfully on mine. If she has never once looked back, you may tell her that I have, sometimes, to recall her taking part with you, and that my resolution is no easier to wear away;' he smiled very sweetly here; 'than marble.'
'I tell her nothing of you. We never speak about you. Once a year, on your birthday, Harriet says always, "Let us remember James by name, and wish him happy," but we say no more'
'Tell it then, if you please,' returned the other, 'to yourself. You can't repeat it too often, as a lesson to you to avoid the subject in speaking to me. I know no Harriet Carker. There is no such person. You may have a sister; make much of her. I have none.'
Mr Carker the Manager took up the letter again, and waved it with a smile of mock courtesy towards the door. Unfolding it as his brother withdrew, and looking darkly aiter him as he left the room, he once more turned round in his elbow-chair, and applied himself to a diligent perusal of its contents.
It was in the writing of his great chief, Mr Dombey, and dated from Leamington. Though he was a quick reader of all other letters, Mr Carker read this slowly; weighing the words as he went, and bringing every tooth in his head to bear upon them. When he had read it through once, he turned it over again, and picked out these passages. 'I find myself benefited by the change, and am not yet inclined to name any time for my return.' 'I wish, Carker, you would arrange to come down once and see me here, and let me know how things are going on, in person.' 'I omitted to speak to you about young Gay. If not gone per Son and Heir, or if Son and Heir still lying in the Docks, appoint some other young man and keep him in the City for the present. I am not decided.' 'Now that's unfortunate!' said Mr Carker the Manager, expanding his mouth, as if it were made of India-rubber: 'for he's far away.'
Still that passage, which was in a postscript, attracted his attention and his teeth, once more.
'I think,' he said, 'my good friend Captain Cuttle mentioned something about being towed along in the wake of that day. What a pity he's so far away!'
He refolded the letter, and was sitting trifling with it, standing it long-wise and broad-wise on his table, and turning it over and over on all sides - doing pretty much the same thing, perhaps, by its contents - when Mr Perch the messenger knocked softly at the door, and coming in on tiptoe, bending his body at every step as if it were the delight of his life to bow, laid some papers on the table.
'Would you please to be engaged, Sir?' asked Mr Perch, rubbing his hands, and deferentially putting his head on one side, like a man who felt he had no business to hold it up in such a presence, and would keep it as much out of the way as possible.
'Who wants me?'
'Why, Sir,' said Mr Perch, in a soft voice, 'really nobody, Sir, to speak of at present. Mr Gills the Ship's Instrument-maker, Sir, has looked in, about a little matter of payment, he says: but I mentioned to him, Sir, that you was engaged several deep; several deep.'
Mr Perch coughed once behind his hand, and waited for further orders.
'Anybody else?'
'Well, Sir,' said Mr Perch, 'I wouldn't of my own self take the liberty of mentioning, Sir, that there was anybody else; but that same young lad that was here yesterday, Sir, and last week, has been hanging about the place; and it looks, Sir,' added Mr Perch, stopping to shut the door, 'dreadful unbusiness-like to see him whistling to the sparrows down the court, and making of 'em answer him.'
'You said he wanted something to do, didn't you, Perch?' asked Mr Carker, leaning back in his chair and looking at that officer.
'Why, Sir,' said Mr Perch, coughing behind his hand again, 'his expression certainly were that he was in wants of a sitiwation, and that he considered something might be done for him about the Docks, being used to fishing with a rod and line: but - ' Mr Perch shook his head very dubiously indeed.
'What does he say when he comes?' asked Mr Carker.
'Indeed, Sir,' said Mr Perch, coughing another cough behind his hand, which was always his resource as an expression of humility when nothing else occurred to him, 'his observation generally air that he would humbly wish to see one of the gentlemen, and that he wants to earn a living. But you see, Sir,' added Perch, dropping his voice to a whisper, and turning, in the inviolable nature of his confidence, to give the door a thrust with his hand and knee, as if that would shut it any more when it was shut already, 'it's hardly to be bore, Sir, that a common lad like that should come a prowling here, and saying that his mother nursed our House's young gentleman, and that he hopes our House will give him a chance on that account. I am sure, Sir,' observed Mr Perch, 'that although Mrs Perch was at that time nursing as thriving a little girl, Sir, as we've ever took the liberty of adding to our family, I wouldn't have made so free as drop a hint of her being capable of imparting nourishment, not if it was never so!'
Mr Carker grinned at him like a shark, but in an absent, thoughtful manner.
'Whether,' submitted Mr Perch, after a short silence, and another cough, 'it mightn't be best for me to tell him, that if he was seen here any more he would be given into custody; and to keep to it! With respect to bodily fear,' said Mr Perch, 'I'm so timid, myself, by nature, Sir, and my nerves is so unstrung by Mrs Perch's state, that I could take my affidavit easy.'
'Let me see this fellow, Perch,' said Mr Carker. 'Bring him in!'
'Yes, Sir. Begging your pardon, Sir,' said Mr Perch, hesitating at the door, 'he's rough, Sir, in appearance.'
'Never mind. If he's there, bring him in. I'll see Mr Gills directly. Ask him to wait.'
Mr Perch bowed; and shutting the door, as precisely and carefully as if he were not coming back for a week, went on his quest among the sparrows in the court. While he was gone, Mr Carker assumed his favourite attitude before the fire-place, and stood looking at the door; presenting, with his under lip tucked into the smile that showed his whole row of upper teeth, a singularly crouching apace.
The messenger was not long in returning, followed by a pair of heavy boots that came bumping along the passage like boxes. With the unceremonious words 'Come along with you!' - a very unusual form of introduction from his lips - Mr Perch then ushered into the presence a strong-built lad of fifteen, with a round red face, a round sleek head, round black eyes, round limbs, and round body, who, to carry out the general rotundity of his appearance, had a round hat in his hand, without a particle of brim to it.
Obedient to a nod from Mr Carker, Perch had no sooner confronted the visitor with that gentleman than he withdrew. The moment they were face to face alone, Mr Carker, without a word of preparation, took him by the throat, and shook him until his head seemed loose upon his shoulders.
The boy, who in the midst of his astonishment could not help staring wildly at the gentleman with so many white teeth who was choking him, and at the office walls, as though determined, if he were choked, that his last look should be at the mysteries for his intrusion into which he was paying such a severe penalty, at last contrived to utter -
'Come, Sir! You let me alone, will you!'
'Let you alone!' said Mr Carker. 'What! I have got you, have I?' There was no doubt of that, and tightly too. 'You dog,' said Mr Carker, through his set jaws, 'I'll strangle you!'
Biler whimpered, would he though? oh no he wouldn't - and what was he doing of - and why didn't he strangle some- body of his own size and not him: but Biler was quelled by the extraordinary nature of his reception, and, as his head became stationary, and he looked the gentleman in the face, or rather in the teeth, and saw him snarling at him, he so far forgot his manhood as to cry.
'I haven't done nothing to you, Sir,' said Biler, otherwise Rob, otherwise Grinder, and always Toodle.
'You young scoundrel!' replied Mr Carker, slowly releasing him, and moving back a step into his favourite position. 'What do you mean by daring to come here?'
'I didn't mean no harm, Sir,' whimpered Rob, putting one hand to his throat, and the knuckles of the other to his eyes. 'I'll never come again, Sir. I only wanted work.'
'Work, young Cain that you are!' repeated Mr Carker, eyeing him narrowly. 'Ain't you the idlest vagabond in London?'
The impeachment, while it much affected Mr Toodle Junior, attached to his character so justly, that he could not say a word in denial. He stood looking at the gentleman, therefore, with a frightened, self-convicted, and remorseful air. As to his looking at him, it may be observed that he was fascinated by Mr Carker, and never took his round eyes off him for an instant.
'Ain't you a thief?' said Mr Carker, with his hands behind him in his pockets.
'No, sir,' pleaded Rob.
'You are!' said Mr Carker.
'I ain't indeed, Sir,' whimpered Rob. 'I never did such a thing as thieve, Sir, if you'll believe me. I know I've been a going wrong, Sir, ever since I took to bird-catching' and walking-matching. I'm sure a cove might think,' said Mr Toodle Junior, with a burst of penitence, 'that singing birds was innocent company, but nobody knows what harm is in them little creeturs and what they brings you down to.'
They seemed to have brought him down to a velveteen jacket and trousers very much the worse for wear, a particularly small red waistcoat like a gorget, an interval of blue check, and the hat before mentioned.
'I ain't been home twenty times since them birds got their will of me,' said Rob, 'and that's ten months. How can I go home when everybody's miserable to see me! I wonder,' said Biler, blubbering outright, and smearing his eyes with his coat-cuff, 'that I haven't been and drownded myself over and over again.'
All of which, including his expression of surprise at not having achieved this last scarce performance, the boy said, just as if the teeth of Mr Carker drew it out ofhim, and he had no power of concealing anything with that battery of attraction in full play.
'You're a nice young gentleman!' said Mr Carker, shaking his head at him. 'There's hemp-seed sown for you, my fine fellow!'
'I'm sure, Sir,' returned the wretched Biler, blubbering again, and again having recourse to his coat-cuff: 'I shouldn't care, sometimes, if it was growed too. My misfortunes all began in wagging, Sir; but what could I do, exceptin' wag?'
'Excepting what?' said Mr Carker.
'Wag, Sir. Wagging from school.'
'Do you mean pretending to go there, and not going?' said Mr Carker.
'Yes, Sir, that's wagging, Sir,' returned the quondam Grinder, much affected. 'I was chivied through the streets, Sir, when I went there, and pounded when I got there. So I wagged, and hid myself, and that began it.'
'And you mean to tell me,' said Mr Carker, taking him by the throat again, holding him out at arm's-length, and surveying him in silence for some moments, 'that you want a place, do you?'
'I should be thankful to be tried, Sir,' returned Toodle Junior, faintly.
Mr Carker the Manager pushed him backward into a corner - the boy submitting quietly, hardly venturing to breathe, and never once removing his eyes from his face - and rang the bell.
'Tell Mr Gills to come here.'
Mr Perch was too deferential to express surprise or recognition of the figure in the corner: and Uncle Sol appeared immediately.
'Mr Gills!' said Carker, with a smile, 'sit down. How do you do? You continue to enjoy your health, I hope?'
'Thank you, Sir,' returned Uncle Sol, taking out his pocket-book, and handing over some notes as he spoke. 'Nothing ails me in body but old age. Twenty-five, Sir.'
'You are as punctual and exact, Mr Gills,' replied the smiling Manager, taking a paper from one of his many drawers, and making an endorsement on it, while Uncle Sol looked over him, 'as one of your own chronometers. Quite right.'
'The Son and Heir has not been spoken, I find by the list, Sir,' said Uncle Sol, with a slight addition to the usual tremor in his voice.
'The Son and Heir has not been spoken,' returned Carker. 'There seems to have been tempestuous weather, Mr Gills, and she has probably been driven out of her course.'
'She is safe, I trust in Heaven!' said old Sol.
'She is safe, I trust in Heaven!' assented Mr Carker in that voiceless manner of his: which made the observant young Toodle trernble again. 'Mr Gills,' he added aloud, throwing himself back in his chair, 'you must miss your nephew very much?'
Uncle Sol, standing by him, shook his head and heaved a deep sigh.
'Mr Gills,' said Carker, with his soft hand playing round his mouth, and looking up into the Instrument-maker's face, 'it would be company to you to have a young fellow in your shop just now, and it would be obliging me if you would give one house-room for the present. No, to be sure,' he added quickly, in anticipation of what the old man was going to say, 'there's not much business doing there, I know; but you can make him clean the place out, polish up the instruments; drudge, Mr Gills. That's the lad!'
Sol Gills pulled down his spectacles from his forehead to his eyes, and looked at Toodle Junior standing upright in the corner: his head presenting the appearance (which it always did) of having been newly drawn out of a bucket of cold water; his small waistcoat rising and falling quickly in the play of his emotions; and his eyes intently fixed on Mr Carker, without the least reference to his proposed master.
'Will you give him house-room, Mr Gills?' said the Manager.
Old Sol, without being quite enthusiastic on the subject, replied that he was glad of any opportunity, however slight, to oblige Mr Carker, whose wish on such a point was a command: and that the wooden Midshipman would consider himself happy to receive in his berth any visitor of Mr Carker's selecting.
Mr Carker bared himself to the tops and bottoms of his gums: making the watchful Toodle Junior tremble more and more: and acknowledged the Instrument-maker's politeness in his most affable manner.
'I'll dispose of him so, then, Mr Gills,' he answered, rising, and shaking the old man by the hand, 'until I make up my mind what to do with him, and what he deserves. As I consider myself responsible for him, Mr Gills,' here he smiled a wide smile at Rob, who shook before it: 'I shall be glad if you'll look sharply after him, and report his behaviour to me. I'll ask a question or two of his parents as I ride home this afternoon - respectable people - to confirm some particulars in his own account of himself; and that done, Mr Gills, I'll send him round to you to-morrow morning. Goodbye!'
His smile at parting was so full of teeth, that it confused old Sol, and made him vaguely uncomfortable. He went home, thinking of raging seas, foundering ships, drowning men, an ancient bottle of Madeira never brought to light, and other dismal matters.
'Now, boy!' said Mr Carker, putting his hand on young Toodle's shoulder, and bringing him out into the middle of the room. 'You have heard me?'
Rob said, 'Yes, Sir.'
'Perhaps you understand,' pursued his patron, 'that if you ever deceive or play tricks with me, you had better have drowned yourself, indeed, once for all, before you came here?'
There was nothing in any branch of mental acquisition that Rob seemed to understand better than that.
'If you have lied to me,' said Mr Carker, 'in anything, never come in my way again. If not, you may let me find you waiting for me somewhere near your mother's house this afternoon. I shall leave this at five o'clock, and ride there on horseback. Now, give me the address.'
Rob repeated it slowly, as Mr Carker wrote it down. Rob even spelt it over a second time, letter by letter, as if he thought that the omission of a dot or scratch would lead to his destruction. Mr Carker then handed him out of the room; and Rob, keeping his round eyes fixed upon his patron to the last, vanished for the time being.
Mr Carker the Manager did a great deal of business in the course of the day, and stowed his teeth upon a great many people. In the office, in the court, in the street, and on 'Change, they glistened and bristled to a terrible extent. Five o'clock arriving, and with it Mr Carker's bay horse, they got on horseback, and went gleaming up Cheapside.
As no one can easily ride fast, even if inclined to do so, through the press and throng of the City at that hour, and as Mr Carker was not inclined, he went leisurely along, picking his way among the carts and carriages, avoiding whenever he could the wetter and more dirty places in the over-watered road, and taking infinite pains to keep himself and his steed clean. Glancing at the passersby while he was thus ambling on his way, he suddenly encountered the round eyes of the sleek-headed Rob intently fixed upon his face as if they had never been taken off, while the boy himself, with a pocket-handkerchief twisted up like a speckled eel and girded round his waist, made a very conspicuous demonstration of being prepared to attend upon him, at whatever pace he might think proper to go.
This attention, however flattering, being one of an unusual kind, and attracting some notice from the other passengers, Mr Carker took advantage of a clearer thoroughfare and a cleaner road, and broke into a trot. Rob immediately did the same. Mr Carker presently tried a canter; Rob Was still in attendance. Then a short gallop; it Was all one to the boy. Whenever Mr Carker turned his eyes to that side of the road, he still saw Toodle Junior holding his course, apparently without distress, and working himself along by the elbows after the most approved manner of professional gentlemen who get over the ground for wagers.
Ridiculous as this attendance was, it was a sign of an influence established over the boy, and therefore Mr Carker, affecting not to notice it, rode away into the neighbourhood of Mr Toodle's house. On his slackening his pace here, Rob appeared before him to point out the turnings; and when he called to a man at a neighbouring gateway to hold his horse, pending his visit to the buildings that had succeeded Staggs's Gardens, Rob dutifully held the stirrup, while the Manager dismounted.
'Now, Sir,' said Mr Carker, taking him by the shoulder, 'come along!'
The prodigal son was evidently nervous of visiting the parental abode; but Mr Carker pushing him on before, he had nothing for it but to open the right door, and suffer himself to be walked into the midst of his brothers and sisters, mustered in overwhelming force round the family tea-table. At sight of the prodigal in the grasp of a stranger, these tender relations united in a general howl, which smote upon the prodigal's breast so sharply when he saw his mother stand up among them, pale and trembling, with the baby in her arms, that he lent his own voice to the chorus.
Nothing doubting now that the stranger, if not Mr Ketch' in person, was one of that company, the whole of the young family wailed the louder, while its more infantine members, unable to control the transports of emotion appertaining to their time of life, threw themselves on their backs like young birds when terrified by a hawk, and kicked violently. At length, poor Polly making herself audible, said, with quivering lips, 'Oh Rob, my poor boy, what have you done at last!'
'Nothing, mother,' cried Rob, in a piteous voice, 'ask the gentleman!'
'Don't be alarmed,' said Mr Carker, 'I want to do him good.'
At this announcement, Polly, who had not cried yet, began to do so. The elder Toodles, who appeared to have been meditating a rescue, unclenched their fists. The younger Toodles clustered round their mother's gown, and peeped from under their own chubby arms at their desperado brother and his unknown friend. Everybody blessed the gentleman with the beautiful teeth, who wanted to do good.
'This fellow,' said Mr Carker to Polly, giving him a gentle shake, 'is your son, eh, Ma'am?'
'Yes, Sir,' sobbed Polly, with a curtsey; 'yes, Sir.'
'A bad son, I am afraid?' said Mr Carker.
'Never a bad son to me, Sir,' returned Polly.
'To whom then?' demanded Mr Carker.
'He has been a little wild, Sir,' returned Polly, checking the baby, who was making convulsive efforts with his arms and legs to launch himself on Biler, through the ambient air, 'and has gone with wrong companions: but I hope he has seen the misery of that, Sir, and will do well again.'
Mr Carker looked at Polly, and the clean room, and the clean children, and the simple Toodle face, combined of father and mother, that was reflected and repeated everywhere about him - and seemed to have achieved the real purpose of his visit.
'Your husband, I take it, is not at home?' he said.
'No, Sir,' replied Polly. 'He's down the line at present.'
The prodigal Rob seemed very much relieved to hear it: though still in the absorption of all his faculties in his patron, he hardly took his eyes from Mr Carker's face, unless for a moment at a time to steal a sorrowful glance at his mother.
'Then,' said Mr Carker, 'I'll tell you how I have stumbled on this boy of yours, and who I am, and what I am going to do for him.'
This Mr Carker did, in his own way; saying that he at first intended to have accumulated nameless terrors on his presumptuous head, for coming to the whereabout of Dombey and Son. That he had relented, in consideration of his youth, his professed contrition, and his friends. That he was afraid he took a rash step in doing anything for the boy, and one that might expose him to the censure of the prudent; but that he did it of himself and for himself, and risked the consequences single-handed; and that his mother's past connexion with Mr Dombey's family had nothing to do with it, and that Mr Dombey had nothing to do with it, but that he, Mr Carker, was the be-all and the end-all of this business. Taking great credit to himself for his goodness, and receiving no less from all the family then present, Mr Carker signified, indirectly but still pretty plainly, that Rob's implicit fidelity, attachment, and devotion, were for evermore his due, and the least homage he could receive. And with this great truth Rob himself was so impressed, that, standing gazing on his patron with tears rolling down his cheeks, he nodded his shiny head until it seemed almost as loose as it had done under the same patron's hands that morning.
Polly, who had passed Heaven knows how many sleepless nights on account of this her dissipated firstborn, and had not seen him for weeks and weeks, could have almost kneeled to Mr Carker the Manager, as to a Good Spirit - in spite of his teeth. But Mr Carker rising to depart, she only thanked him with her mother's prayers and blessings; thanks so rich when paid out of the Heart's mint, especially for any service Mr Carker had rendered, that he might have given back a large amount of change, and yet been overpaid.
As that gentleman made his way among the crowding children to the door, Rob retreated on his mother, and took her and the baby in the same repentant hug.
'I'll try hard, dear mother, now. Upon my soul I will!' said Rob.
'Oh do, my dear boy! I am sure you will, for our sakes and your own!' cried Polly, kissing him. 'But you're coming back to speak to me, when you have seen the gentleman away?'
'I don't know, mother.' Rob hesitated, and looked down. 'Father - when's he coming home?'
'Not till two o'clock to-morrow morning.'
'I'll come back, mother dear!' cried Rob. And passing through the shrill cry of his brothers and sisters in reception of this promise, he followed Mr Carker out.
'What!' said Mr Carker, who had heard this. 'You have a bad father, have you?'
'No, Sir!' returned Rob, amazed. 'There ain't a better nor a kinder father going, than mine is.'
'Why don't you want to see him then?' inquired his patron.
'There's such a difference between a father and a mother, Sir,' said Rob, after faltering for a moment. 'He couldn't hardly believe yet that I was doing to do better - though I know he'd try to but a mother - she always believes what's,' good, Sir; at least I know my mother does, God bless her!'
Mr Carker's mouth expanded, but he said no more until he was mounted on his horse, and had dismissed the man who held it, when, looking down from the saddle steadily into the attentive and watchful face of the boy, he said:
'You'll come to me tomorrow morning, and you shall be shown where that old gentleman lives; that old gentleman who was with me this morning; where you are going, as you heard me say.'
'Yes, Sir,' returned Rob.
'I have a great interest in that old gentleman, and in serving him, you serve me, boy, do you understand? Well,' he added, interrupting him, for he saw his round face brighten when he was told that: 'I see you do. I want to know all about that old gentleman, and how he goes on from day to day - for I am anxious to be of service to him - and especially who comes there to see him. Do you understand?'
Rob nodded his steadfast face, and said 'Yes, Sir,' again.
'I should like to know that he has friends who are attentive to him, and that they don't desert him - for he lives very much alone now, poor fellow; but that they are fond of him, and of his nephew who has gone abroad. There is a very young lady who may perhaps come to see him. I want particularly to know all about her.'
'I'll take care, Sir,' said the boy.
'And take care,' returned his patron, bending forward to advance his grinning face closer to the boy's, and pat him on the shoulder with the handle of his whip: 'take care you talk about affairs of mine to nobody but me.'
'To nobody in the world, Sir,' replied Rob, shaking his head.
'Neither there,' said Mr CarHer, pointing to the place they had just left, 'nor anywhere else. I'll try how true and grateful you can be. I'll prove you!' Making this, by his display of teeth and by the action of his head, as much a threat as a promise, he turned from Rob's eyes, which were nailed upon him as if he had won the boy by a charm, body and soul, and rode away. But again becoming conscious, after trotting a short distance, that his devoted henchman, girt as before, was yielding him the same attendance, to the great amusement of sundry spectators, he reined up, and ordered him off. To ensure his obedience, he turned in the saddle and watched him as he retired. It was curious to see that even then Rob could not keep his eyes wholly averted from his patron's face, but, constantly turning and turning again to look after him' involved himself in a tempest of buffetings and jostlings from the other passengers in the street: of which, in the pursuit of the one paramount idea, he was perfectly heedless.
Mr Carker the Manager rode on at a foot-pace, with the easy air of one who had performed all the business of the day in a satisfactory manner, and got it comfortably off his mind. Complacent and affable as man could be, Mr Carker picked his way along the streets and hummed a soft tune as he went He seemed to purr, he was so glad.
And in some sort, Mr Carker, in his fancy, basked upon a hearth too. Coiled up snugly at certain feet, he was ready for a spring, Or for a tear, or for a scratch, or for a velvet touch, as the humour took him and occasion served. Was there any bird in a cage, that came in for a share ofhis regards?
'A very young lady!' thought Mr Carker the Manager, through his song. 'Ay! when I saw her last, she was a little child. With dark eyes and hair, I recollect, and a good face; a very good face! I daresay she's pretty.'
More affable and pleasant yet, and humming his song until his many teeth vibrated to it, Mr Carker picked his way along, and turned at last into the shady street where Mr Dombey's house stood. He had been so busy, winding webs round good faces, and obscuring them with meshes, that he hardly thought of being at this point of his ride, until, glancing down the cold perspective of tall houses, he reined in his horse quickly within a few yards of the door. But to explain why Mr Carker reined in his horse quickly, and what he looked at in no small surprise, a few digressive words are necessary.
Mr Toots, emancipated from the Blimber thraldom and coming into the possession of a certain portion of his wordly wealth, 'which,' as he had been wont, during his last half-year's probation, to communicate to Mr Feeder every evening as a new discovery, 'the executors couldn't keep him out of' had applied himself with great diligence, to the science of Life. Fired with a noble emulation to pursue a brilliant and distinguished career, Mr Toots had furnished a choice set of apartments; had established among them a sporting bower, embellished with the portraits of winning horses, in which he took no particle of interest; and a divan, which made him poorly. In this delicious abode, Mr Toots devoted himself to the cultivation of those gentle arts which refine and humanise existence, his chief instructor in which was an interesting character called the Game Chicken, who was always to be heard of at the bar of the Black Badger, wore a shaggy white great-coat in the warmest weather, and knocked Mr Toots about the head three times a week, for the small consideration of ten and six per visit.
The Game Chicken, who was quite the Apollo of Mr Toots's Pantheon, had introduced to him a marker who taught billiards, a Life Guard who taught fencing, a jobmaster who taught riding, a Cornish gentleman who was up to anything in the athletic line, and two or three other friends connected no less intimately with the fine arts. Under whose auspices Mr Toots could hardly fail to improve apace, and under whose tuition he went to work.
But however it came about, it came to pass, even while these gentlemen had the gloss of novelty upon them, that Mr Toots felt, he didn't know how, unsettled and uneasy. There were husks in his corn, that even Game Chickens couldn't peck up; gloomy giants in his leisure, that even Game Chickens couldn't knock down. Nothing seemed to do Mr Toots so much good as incessantly leaving cards at Mr Dombey's door. No taxgatherer in the British Dominions - that wide-spread territory on which the sun never sets, and where the tax-gatherer never goes to bed - was more regular and persevering in his calls than Mr Toots.
Mr Toots never went upstairs; and always performed the same ceremonies, richly dressed for the purpose, at the hall door.
'Oh! Good morning!' would be Mr Toots's first remark to the servant. 'For Mr Dombey,' would be Mr Toots's next remark, as he handed in a card. 'For Miss Dombey,' would be his next, as he handed in another.
Mr Toots would then turn round as if to go away; but the man knew him by this time, and knew he wouldn't.
'Oh, I beg your pardon,' Mr Toots would say, as if a thought had suddenly descended on him. 'Is the young woman at home?'
The man would rather think she was;, but wouldn't quite know. Then he would ring a bell that rang upstairs, and would look up the staircase, and would say, yes, she was at home, and was coming down. Then Miss Nipper would appear, and the man would retire.
'Oh! How de do?' Mr Toots would say, with a chuckle and a blush.
Susan would thank him, and say she was very well.
'How's Diogenes going on?' would be Mr Toots's second interrogation.
Very well indeed. Miss Florence was fonder and fonder of him every day. Mr Toots was sure to hail this with a burst of chuckles, like the opening of a bottle of some effervescent beverage.
'Miss Florence is quite well, Sir,' Susan would add.
Oh, it's of no consequence, thank'ee,' was the invariable reply of Mr Toots; and when he had said so, he always went away very fast.
Now it is certain that Mr Toots had a filmy something in his mind, which led him to conclude that if he could aspire successfully in the fulness of time, to the hand of Florence, he would be fortunate and blest. It is certain that Mr Toots, by some remote and roundabout road, had got to that point, and that there he made a stand. His heart was wounded; he was touched; he was in love. He had made a desperate attempt, one night, and had sat up all night for the purpose, to write an acrostic on Florence, which affected him to tears in the conception. But he never proceeded in the execution further than the words 'For when I gaze,' - the flow of imagination in which he had previously written down the initial letters of the other seven lines, deserting him at that point.
Beyond devising that very artful and politic measure of leaving a card for Mr Dombey daily, the brain of Mr Toots had not worked much in reference to the subject that held his feelings prisoner. But deep consideration at length assured Mr Toots that an important step to gain, was, the conciliation of Miss Susan Nipper, preparatory to giving her some inkling of his state of mind.
A little light and playful gallantry towards this lady seemed the means to employ in that early chapter of the history, for winning her to his interests. Not being able quite to make up his mind about it, he consulted the Chicken - without taking that gentleman into his confidence; merely informing him that a friend in Yorkshire had written to him (Mr Toots) for his opinion on such a question. The Chicken replying that his opinion always was, 'Go in and win,' and further, 'When your man's before you and your work cut out, go in and do it,' Mr Toots considered this a figurative way of supporting his own view of the case, and heroically resolved to kiss Miss Nipper next day.
Upon the next day, therefore, Mr Toots, putting into requisition some of the greatest marvels that Burgess and Co. had ever turned out, went off to Mr Dotnbey's upon this design. But his heart failed him so much as he approached the scene of action, that, although he arrived on the ground at three o'clock in the afternoon, it was six before he knocked at the door.
Everything happened as usual, down to the point where Susan said her young mistress was well, and Mr Toots said it was ofno consequence. To her amazement, Mr Toots, instead of going off, like a rocket, after that observation, lingered and chuckled.
'Perhaps you'd like to walk upstairs, Sir!' said Susan.
'Well, I think I will come in!' said Mr Toots.
But instead of walking upstairs, the bold Toots made an awkward plunge at Susan when the door was shut, and embracing that fair creature, kissed her on the cheek
'Go along with you!~ cried Susan, 'or Ill tear your eyes out.'
'Just another!' said Mr Toots.
'Go along with you!' exclaimed Susan, giving him a push 'Innocents like you, too! Who'll begin next? Go along, Sir!'
Susan was not in any serious strait, for she could hardly speak for laughing; but Diogenes, on the staircase, hearing a rustling against the wall, and a shuffling of feet, and seeing through the banisters that there was some contention going on, and foreign invasion in the house, formed a different opinion, dashed down to the rescue, and in the twinkling of an eye had Mr Toots by the leg.
Susan screamed, laughed, opened the street-door, and ran downstairs; the bold Toots tumbled staggering out into the street, with Diogenes holding on to one leg of his pantaioons, as if Burgess and Co. were his cooks, and had provided that dainty morsel for his holiday entertainment; Diogenes shaken off, rolled over and over in the dust, got up' again, whirled round the giddy Toots and snapped at him: and all this turmoil Mr Carker, reigning up his horse and sitting a little at a distance, saw to his amazement, issue from the stately house of Mr Dombey.
Mr Carker remained watching the discomfited Toots, when Diogenes was called in, and the door shut: and while that gentleman, taking refuge in a doorway near at hand, bound up the torn leg of his pantaloons with a costly silk handkerchief that had formed part of his expensive outfit for the advent
'I beg your pardon, Sir,' said Mr Carker, riding up, with his most propitiatory smile. 'I hope you are not hurt?'
'Oh no, thank you,' replied Mr Toots, raising his flushed face, 'it's of no consequence' Mr Toots would have signified, if he could, that he liked it very much.
'If the dog's teeth have entered the leg, Sir - ' began Carker, with a display of his own'
'No, thank you,' said Mr Toots, 'it's all quite right. It's very comfortable, thank you.'
'I have the pleasure of knowing Mr Dombey,' observed Carker.
'Have you though?' rejoined the blushing Took
'And you will allow me, perhaps, to apologise, in his absence,' said Mr Carker, taking off his hat, 'for such a misadventure, and to wonder how it can possibly have happened.'
Mr Toots is so much gratified by this politeness, and the lucky chance of making frends with a friend of Mr Dombey, that he pulls out his card-case which he never loses an opportunity of using, and hands his name and address to Mr Carker: who responds to that courtesy by giving him his own, and with that they part.
As Mr Carker picks his way so softly past the house, looking up at the windows, and trying to make out the pensive face behind the curtain looking at the children opposite, the rough head of Diogenes came clambering up close by it, and the dog, regardless of all soothing, barks and growls, and makes at him from that height, as ifhe would spring down and tear him limb from limb.
Well spoken, Di, so near your Mistress! Another, and another with your head up, your eyes flashing, and your vexed mouth worrying itself, for want of him! Another, as he picks his way along! You have a good scent, Di, - cats, boy, cats!
经理卡克先生坐在办公桌前，像平日一样，脸孔光滑，皮肤柔嫩，正阅读着那些正等待他去拆开的信件，有时还按照信件业务内容的要求写上批注和指示，并把它们区分成几个小堆，以便分送到公司的各个不同部门。这天早上收到大量信件，经理卡克先生有许多工作要做。
从事于这种工作的人的动作——看着手中的一叠公文，把它们分成几个不同的部分，拿起另一叠公文，皱着眉头，噘着嘴唇，研究着它们的内容——轮流不断地处理，分类，思考着——，很容易使人联想到这与玩牌的人有某些奇异的相似之处。经理卡克先生的脸孔完全符合这个想法。这是一个精心研究纸牌的人的脸孔：他使自己成为行家能手，完全懂得怎样打牌是上算，怎样打牌是失策；他把所有在他面前打出来的牌都记在心上，准确无误地知道哪些牌已经打出来了。哪些牌还没有打了，它们能搭配成什么；他巧妙地推算出其他人手上有些什么牌，但却从不泄露他自己手上的牌。
信件是用各种语言写的，但是经理卡克先生把它们全都看过。如果董贝父子公司的办公室中有什么东西他•不•能看的话，那就好像一副牌中缺少了一张似的。他差不多匆匆溜上一眼就把一个信件看过，然后一边看一边把一封信和另一封信分在一起，把一件业务和另一件业务搭配在一起，同时在小堆上增添上新的材料，这很像一个看一眼就能把好多牌认出来的人，在配牌之后，就在心中设想好它们如何组合一样。作为打牌的搭档来说，他是有些太狡猾了；作为打牌的对手来说，他是太老奸巨猾了，经理卡克先生就这样坐在从天窗斜照到他身上的阳光中，独自玩着他的纸牌。
一长条夏日的阳光照射到桌子和地面，桌子和地面仿佛是一个弯曲的日晷仪，坐在阳光中取暖的经理卡克先生本人是这个日晷议上唯一的身形；虽然不论野猫还是家猫都没有玩牌的天性，但这时候的经理卡克先生却从头到脚都很像是只猫。他的头发和连鬓胡子一直缺乏色泽，在明亮的阳光中就比平时更加显得暗淡，更加像那沙色的玳瑁猫身上的毛了；他的长长的指甲削得漂亮、尖利；他生性厌恶任何细小的污点，所以不时停下来注视着正在落下的微尘，把它们从他光滑的手上或光亮的亚麻布衣服上拂去；经理卡克先生态度狡猾，牙齿锐利，脚步柔软，眼睛机警，舌头油滑，心地残酷，服装漂亮，他就这样极为坚定和耐心地坐在那里工作，仿佛他正在一个耗子洞口守候着似的。
终于他把所有的信件都处理完了，只有一封他留着准备仔细阅读。经理卡克先生把比较机密的信件都锁到一个抽屉里以后，按了一下铃。
“为什么是•你应声前来？”他这样接待他的哥哥。
“信差出去了。除了他，就数我的职位最低了，”这是恭顺的回答。
“除了他，就数你的职位最低了？”经理卡克低声说道，“不错！这是我的莫大光荣！那里！”
他指着那一堆拆开的信件，在扶手椅中不屑一顾地转开身子，把手上拿着的那封信的封印撕破。
“对不起，我不打搅你了，詹姆士，”他的哥哥收集着信件，说道，“不过——”
“哦，你想跟我说话，我早知道这点。唔？”
经理卡克先生没有把眼睛抬起来，也没有把它们转向他的哥哥，而是继续停留在那封信上，虽然他还没有把它展开。
“唔？”他尖刻地重复了一声。
“我为哈里特感到不安。”
“哈里特是谁？哪一位哈里特？我不认识叫这名字的人。”
“她身体不好，最近变化很大。”
“她好多年以前就变化很大，”经理回答道，“这就是我所要说的一切。”
“我想如果你肯听我说一说——”
“为什么我要听你说，约翰哥哥？”经理回答道，他在最后四个字上加上讽刺的强调语气，同时把头一仰，但没有抬起眼睛。“我告诉你，哈里特•卡克好多年以前就已在她的两个兄弟之间作出了选择。她可以后悔这一点，但是她必须继续坚持下去。”
“别误会了我的意思。我不是说她真的后悔了。我要是暗示这样的事，我真是极大的忘恩负义了，”那一位回答道，“虽然，请相信我，詹姆士，我和你一样为她作出的牺牲而难过。”
“和我一样？”经理喊道，“和我一样吗？”
“我为她的选择——为你所说的她的选择而难过，就和你为它而发怒一样，”职位低的那一位说道。
“发怒？”另一位露出宽阔的牙齿，重复道。
“不高兴。你爱用什么字眼都可以。你明白我的意思。我没有冒犯你的意图。”
“你不论做什么事情都在冒犯我。”他的弟弟突然绷着脸、皱着眉头向他怒目而视，回答道；片刻之后又露出了比先前更宽阔的微笑。“劳驾你，把这些公文拿走吧。我忙着。”
他的礼貌比愤怒尖刻得多，所以职位低的那一位就向门口走去。但是他在门口停住，向四周看了一下，说道：
“当你第一次正当地表示愤怒和我第一次蒙受耻辱的时候，哈里特曾经徒劳地试图在你面前为我求情；后来她离开了你，詹姆士，来分担我的不幸的命运；在她用错了的感情的影响下，她把她自己献身给一位身败名裂的弟弟，因为没有她他就没有什么人了，他就会死去；那时候她年轻，漂亮。我想如果你现在看到她——如果你肯去看她的话，她会引起你的钦佩和怜悯的。”
经理低着头，露出牙齿，似乎想要回答无足轻重的什么闲聊似地说一句，“哎呀，这是真的吗？”可是他却一句话也没有说。
“我们在那些日子里，你和我都这么想，她将在年轻的时候出嫁，过幸福的、无忧无虑的生活，”另一位继续说道，“啊，如果你知道她是多么愉快地抛弃了这些希望，她是多么愉快地在她所走上的道路上前进，一次也没有往后回顾的话，那么你就决不会再说她的名字在你的耳朵里是陌生的了。决不会的！”
经理又低下头，露出牙齿，似乎要说，“这确实了不起！
你真使我大吃一惊！”可是他又一句话也没有说。
“我可以继续说下去吗？”约翰•卡克温和地问道。
“说你要走了吗？”笑嘻嘻的弟弟回答道，“如果你肯行个好，那就请吧。”
约翰•卡克叹了一口气，正慢吞吞地走出门口，这时他弟弟的声音又把他在门槛上留住了片刻。
“如果她已经愉快地走过并正在继续走着她自己的道路的话，”他把那封仍然没有展开的信扔到办公桌上，把手坚决地伸进衣袋里，说，“那么你可以告诉她，我也同样愉快地走着我自己的道路。如果她一次也没有往后回顾的话，那么你可以告诉她，我有时却往后回顾，以便回忆她是怎样走到你那边去的；你可以告诉她，要改变我的决心，不比搬走大理石容易。”这时他很快乐地微笑着。
“你的任何事情我都不告诉她。我们从来不谈论你。每年一次，在你的生日，哈里特老是这样说，‘让我们记得詹姆士，祝愿他幸福吧。’但是我们就不再说别的了。”
“那就请告诉你自己吧，”另一位回答道，“你跟我谈话的时候务必避开这个话题。你可以把这作为一个教训，不断地重复地记住它。我不知道哈里特•卡克。世界上没有这样一个人。你可以有一个姐姐，对她赞不绝口。我没有。”
经理卡克又拿起那封信，带者嘲弄性的礼貌微笑了一下，挥着它，指向门口。他的哥哥开始往外走的时候，他把它展开；当他恶狠狠地目送着他离开房间以后，他在扶手椅子中又转回了身子，开始专心地阅读这封信。
这是他的伟大的老板董贝先生的亲笔信，从莱明顿寄出的。虽然卡克先生看其他的信都看得很快，但这封信他却慢慢读着，琢磨着每一个字，所有的牙齿都对着它们。他读完一遍以后，又重新读了一遍，特别注意以下这些段落：“我觉得这次变换环境对我有益，我现在还不打算确定回来的日期。”“我希望，卡克，您能设法到这里来一趟看看我，让我亲自了解业务的进展情况。”“我忘了跟您谈起年轻人盖伊。如果他还没有乘‘儿子和继承人’出发，或者如果‘儿子和继承人’还停泊在码头，那就指派另外的年轻人去，把他暂时留在城里。我还没有打定主意。”
“现在可真不幸！”经理卡克先生说，一边把嘴张开得大大的，仿佛它是由橡皮做成似的；“因为他已经离开得远远的了。”
仍旧是这作为附言的一段再一次吸引了他的注意和他的牙齿。
“我想，”他说，“我的好朋友卡特尔船长那天曾说过，盖伊今后会被绳子拖着前进。真可惜，他已经离开得远远的了。”
他把这封信重新折叠好，坐在那里玩弄着它，使它纵立和横立在桌子上，又把它这样那样地转来转去，这时信差珀奇先生轻轻地敲了敲门，踮着脚走了进来，每走一步都要弯一下身子，仿佛鞠躬是他生活中最大的乐事似的；他把几页公文放在桌子上。
“您还在忙着，是不是，先生？”珀奇先生问道，一边搓着手，毕恭毕敬地把头歪向一侧，仿佛他觉得，在这样一位人物面前他是没有权利竖着头似的，他真愿意把它往一侧尽量歪过去。
“谁想见我？”
“唔，先生，”珀奇先生低声说道，“现在，先生，实际上并没有值得一提的人。船舶仪器制造商吉尔斯先生到这里来谈到付款方面的一点事情，可是我对他说，先生，您非常忙，非常忙。”
珀奇先生用手遮着嘴巴咳嗽了一次，等待着进一步的指示。
“还有别的人吗？”
“唔，先生，”珀奇先生说道，“我不敢冒昧地向您报告，先生，还有什么别的人；不过昨天和上星期曾经到这里来的那个年轻小伙子，先生，还一直在附近闲荡；先生，”珀奇先生停了一下去关上门，然后继续说道，“看他在庭院里向麻雀吹口哨，并叫它们回答他，这实在是十分不得体的。”
“你说他想找工作做，是不是，珀奇？”卡克先生仰靠在椅子上，望着这位办事员，问道。
“唔，先生，”珀奇先生说道，一边用手遮着嘴巴咳嗽，“他确实直率地说过他需要找一个工作，他认为可以在码头上给他找个事做做，因为他过去经常用钓竿钓鱼，不过——”珀奇先生十分怀疑地摇着头。
“他来的时候说了些什么话？”卡克先生问道。
“确实，先生，”珀奇先生说道，一边又用手遮着嘴巴咳嗽；当他想不出别的法子的时候，就经常用这来表示他的谦恭，“他的意见总的来说，就是他低声下气地请求见一见这里的一位先生，而且还想挣点钱维持生活。可是，您瞧，先生，”珀奇先生把他的声音压低成私语，补充说道；为了使他的秘密万无一失起见，他又转过身子，用手和膝盖把门推了一推；虽然门早已关上了，但这样推一下仿佛会使它关得更严实一些似的；“这实在难以令人容忍，先生，像他那样普普通通的一个小伙子竟居然敢窜到这里来，说他的母亲曾经给我们公司的少爷当过奶妈，他希望我们公司因为这个缘故能给他一个机会。说实在的，先生，”珀奇先生说，“虽然珀奇太太那时候曾经用奶把一个小女孩子喂得十分健壮，先生，我们曾经冒昧地把她也算作我们家里的一个成员，可是那时我还不敢放肆地暗示，她能够给我们公司的少爷喂奶，这样的口气我从来没有透露过！”
卡克先生像鲨鱼一样向他咧着嘴笑，但露出心不在焉、若有所思的神情。
“是不是，”珀奇先生在短短的沉默和再咳嗽了一次以后，恭恭敬敬地说道，“最好由我对他说，如果他再到这里来的话，就要把他监禁起来，永远不放出来！至于说对他施行暴力恐吓，”珀奇先生说道，“就我本人来说，我生性是个胆小的人，先生，珀奇太太的状况又把我的神经弄得十分混乱，因此我是很容易屈服招供的。”
“让我看一看这个家伙，珀奇，”卡克先生说，“把他领进来！”
“遵命，先生。请原谅，先生，”珀奇先生在门口迟疑地说道，“他的外貌是粗野的，先生。”
“没关系。如果他在这里的话，那么就把他领进来吧。我过一会儿就接见吉尔斯先生，请他等一下。”
珀奇先生鞠了个躬，严严实实、小小心心地把门关好，仿佛他准备一个星期也不再回到这里来似的，然后他走到庭院里往麻雀中间去寻找。他走了以后，卡克先生在壁炉前面采取了他所喜爱的姿势，站在那里看着门；他收缩下唇，露出微笑，显露出上面的整排牙齿，奇怪地戒备着，就像猫蹲在那里等待耗子似的。
信差不久就回来了，跟随着他的是笨重的长统皮靴在走廊里咯噔咯噔的响声，就像击拳的声音一样。珀奇先生很不客气地喊了一声：“你过来！”——这是从他嘴里说出的很不寻常的引见方式——然后领进了一个体格强壮、十五岁的小伙子；他脸孔圆圆的、红红的，头圆圆的、光光的，眼睛圆圆的、黑黑的，手和脚圆圆的，身体圆圆的，手里还拿着一顶圆圆的、完全没有帽檐的帽子，这使他整个身姿的圆形达到了完备无缺的地步。
珀奇先生刚把这位来访的人领到卡克先生面前，看到卡克先生向他点了一下头，就立刻顺从地退下去了。等到他们两人开始单独面对面的时候，卡克先生预先没有说一句话，就抓住他的喉咙，摇晃着他的身子，直到他的头似乎就要离开肩膀为止。
那孩子在万分惊讶之中，不由自主疯狂似地凝视着这位露出这么多白牙、把他卡得不能透气的先生和办公室的墙壁，仿佛他已下定了决心，如果他真被窒息死去的话，那么他最后一眼也得把他由于闯到这里而遭到如此恶厉惩罚的秘密给探究出来似的；他终于发出了声音：
“好啦，先生！您放开我吧，好不好！”
“放开你！”卡克先生说道，“什么！我已经抓住你了，是不是？”这点是毫无疑问的，而且是抓得紧紧的。“你这条狗，”
卡克先生咬牙切齿地说道，“我要勒死你！”
拜勒抽噎着。他果真要勒死他吗？啊，不，他不会的！那么他为什么要那么做呢？他为什么不勒死跟他个子相同的什么人，而要勒死他呢？可是拜勒被这不寻常的接待方式压制得完全驯服；当他的头安定下来，不再摇晃，他望着那位先生的脸，更正确地说，望着他的牙齿，看到他对他咆哮如雷的时候，他竟完全忘掉了他的丈夫气概，放声大哭起来。
“我没有做什么对不起你的事情，先生，”拜勒说道；他就是罗布，也就是磨工，而且永远是图德尔。
“你这年轻的无赖！”卡克先生回答道，一边慢慢地放开了他，并往后退了一步，恢复了他所喜爱的姿势，“你胆敢跑到这里来，打算干什么？”
“我没有什么坏的用意，先生，”罗布啜泣着，一只手抚摸着喉咙，另一只手的指节擦着眼睛。“我再也不到这里来了，先生。我只是想找工作做。”
“工作？你是个年轻的该隐！①”卡克先生逼视着他，说道，“难道你不是伦敦最游手好闲的流浪汉吗？”
--------
①该隐：圣经故事中说，该隐是亚当的长子，曾杀死弟弟亚伯。圣经认为它是人类历史上的第一桩凶杀案。
这个指责虽然很影响小图德尔先生的情绪，但却完全符合他的身份，所以他说不出一句否认的话。他就站在那里，怀着惊恐不安、自知有罪、悔恨不已的神情望着这位先生。
可以指出一点的是，当他望着他的时候，他被卡克先生强烈地吸引住了，圆圆的眼睛片刻也没有离开他。
“你不是一个小偷吗？”卡克先生手插在衣袋里，说道。
“不是，先生。”罗布争辩道。
“你就是！”卡克先生说。
“我确实不是，先生，”罗布啜泣着说道，“我没有干过偷窃的事情，先生，请相信我。我知道，自从我开始逮捕鸟儿、追赶鸟儿以后，我就走上错误的道路了。毫无疑问，一般人也许会想，”小图德尔万分后悔地说道，“唱歌的鸟儿是天真无邪的伴侣。可是谁也不知道这些小东西有多大害处，它们会给你带来什么结果。”
看来，它们已经给他带来的结果是，他只有一件棉绒短上衣，一条破烂得不好穿的裤子，一件特别小、像护喉甲胄一般的红背心，背心下面露出蓝色的花格子衬衫，还有就是前面提到的那顶帽子。
“自从这些鸟儿叫我着了迷以后，我已经有二十次没有待在家里了，”罗布说道，“已经有十个月了。他们每个人看到我都伤心，我怎么能回家呢！我不明白，”拜勒放声哇哇大哭起来，并用袖头擦着眼睛，说道，“为什么我老早以前没有跳到水里去把自己淹死呢。”
孩子说所有这些话（包括他对他没有完成最后这稀罕的业绩表示惊奇的话）的时候，就仿佛卡克先生的牙齿从他嘴里把话拉出来似的；在这排炮般强烈的吸引力下，他无法隐瞒任何事情
Chapter 23
 Florence solitary, and the Midshipman mysterious
Florence lived alone in the great dreary house, and day succeeded day, and still she lived alone; and the blank walls looked down upon her with a vacant stare, as if they had a Gorgon-like mind to stare her youth and beauty into stone.
No magic dwelling-place in magic story, shut up in the heart of a thick wood, was ever more solitary and deserted to the fancy, than was her father's mansion in its grim reality, as it stood lowering on the street: always by night, when lights were shining from neighbouring windows, a blot upon its scanty brightness; always by day, a frown upon its never-smiling face.
There were not two dragon sentries keeping ward before the gate of this above, as in magic legend are usually found on duty over the wronged innocence imprisoned; but besides a glowering visage, with its thin lips parted wickedly, that surveyed all comers from above the archway of the door, there was a monstrous fantasy of rusty iron, curling and twisting like a petrifaction of an arbour over threshold, budding in spikes and corkscrew points, and bearing, one on either side, two ominous extinguishers, that seemed to say, 'Who enter here, leave light behind!' There were no talismanic characters engraven on the portal, but the house was now so neglected in appearance, that boys chalked the railings and the pavement - particularly round the corner where the side wall was - and drew ghosts on the stable door; and being sometimes driven off by Mr Towlinson, made portraits of him, in return, with his ears growing out horizontally from under his hat. Noise ceased to be, within the shadow of the roof. The brass band that came into the street once a week, in the morning, never brayed a note in at those windows; but all such company, down to a poor little piping organ of weak intellect, with an imbecile party of automaton dancers, waltzing in and out at folding-doors, fell off from it with one accord, and shunned it as a hopeless place.
The spell upon it was more wasting than the spell that used to set enchanted houses sleeping once upon a time, but left their waking freshness unimpaired. The passive desolation of disuse was everywhere silently manifest about it. Within doors, curtains, drooping heavily, lost their old folds and shapes, and hung like cumbrous palls. Hecatombs of furniture, still piled and covered up, shrunk like imprisoned and forgotten men, and changed insensibly. Mirrors were dim as with the breath of years. Patterns of carpets faded and became perplexed and faint, like the memory of those years' trifling incidents. Boards, starting at unwonted footsteps, creaked and shook. Keys rusted in the locks of doors. Damp started on the walls, and as the stains came out, the pictures seemed to go in and secrete themselves. Mildew and mould began to lurk in closets. Fungus trees grew in corners of the cellars. Dust accumulated, nobody knew whence nor how; spiders, moths, and grubs were heard of every day. An exploratory blackbeetle now and then was found immovable upon the stairs, or in an upper room, as wondering how he got there. Rats began to squeak and scuffle in the night time, through dark galleries they mined behind the panelling.
The dreary magnificence of the state rooms, seen imperfectly by the doubtful light admitted through closed shutters, would have answered well enough for an enchanted abode. Such as the tarnished paws of gilded lions, stealthily put out from beneath their wrappers; the marble lineaments of busts on pedestals, fearfully revealing themselves through veils; the clocks that never told the time, or, if wound up by any chance, told it wrong, and struck unearthly numbers, which are not upon the dial; the accidental tinklings among the pendant lustres, more startling than alarm-bells; the softened sounds and laggard air that made their way among these objects, and a phantom crowd of others, shrouded and hooded, and made spectral of shape. But, besides, there was the great staircase, where the lord of the place so rarely set his foot, and by which his little child had gone up to Heaven. There were other staircases and passages where no one went for weeks together; there were two closed rooms associated with dead members of the family, and with whispered recollections of them; and to all the house but Florence, there was a gentle figure moving through the solitude and gloom, that gave to every lifeless thing a touch of present human interest and wonder,
For Florence lived alone in the deserted house, and day succeeded day, and still she lived alone, and the cold walls looked down upon her with a vacant stare, as if they had a Gorgon-like mind to stare her youth and beauty into stone
The grass began to grow upon the roof, and in the crevices of the basement paving. A scaly crumbling vegetation sprouted round the window-sills. Fragments of mortar lost their hold upon the insides of the unused chimneys, and came dropping down. The two trees with the smoky trunks were blighted high up, and the withered branches domineered above the leaves, Through the whole building white had turned yellow, yellow nearly black; and since the time when the poor lady died, it had slowly become a dark gap in the long monotonous street.
But Florence bloomed there, like the king's fair daughter in the story. Her books, her music, and her daily teachers, were her only real companions, Susan Nipper and Diogenes excepted: of whom the former, in her attendance on the studies of her young mistress, began to grow quite learned herself, while the latter, softened possibly by the same influences, would lay his head upon the window-ledge, and placidly open and shut his eyes upon the street, all through a summer morning; sometimes pricking up his head to look with great significance after some noisy dog in a cart, who was barking his way along, and sometimes, with an exasperated and unaccountable recollection of his supposed enemy in the neighbourhood, rushing to the door, whence, after a deafening disturbance, he would come jogging back with a ridiculous complacency that belonged to him, and lay his jaw upon the window-ledge again, with the air of a dog who had done a public service.
So Florence lived in her wilderness of a home, within the circle of her innocent pursuits and thoughts, and nothing harmed her. She could go down to her father's rooms now, and think of him, and suffer her loving heart humbly to approach him, without fear of repulse. She could look upon the objects that had surrounded him in his sorrow, and could nestle near his chair, and not dread the glance that she so well remembered. She could render him such little tokens of her duty and service' as putting everything in order for him with her own hands, binding little nosegays for table, changing them as one by one they withered and he did not come back, preparing something for him every' day, and leaving some timid mark of her presence near his usual seat. To-day, it was a little painted stand for his watch; tomorrow she would be afraid to leave it, and would substitute some other trifle of her making not so likely to attract his eye. Waking in the night, perhaps, she would tremble at the thought of his coming home and angrily rejecting it, and would hurry down with slippered feet and quickly beating heart, and bring it away. At another time, she would only lay her face upon his desk, and leave a kiss there, and a tear.
Still no one knew of this. Unless the household found it out when she was not there - and they all held Mr Dombey's rooms in awe - it was as deep a secret in her breast as what had gone before it. Florence stole into those rooms at twilight, early in the morning, and at times when meals were served downstairs. And although they were in every nook the better and the brighter for her care, she entered and passed out as quietly as any sunbeam, opting that she left her light behind.
Shadowy company attended Florence up and down the echoing house, and sat with her in the dismantled rooms. As if her life were an enchanted vision, there arose out of her solitude ministering thoughts, that made it fanciful and unreal. She imagined so often what her life would have been if her father could have loved her and she had been a favourite child, that sometimes, for the moment, she almost believed it was so, and, borne on by the current of that pensive fiction, seemed to remember how they had watched her brother in his grave together; how they had freely shared his heart between them; how they were united in the dear remembrance of him; how they often spoke about him yet; and her kind father, looking at her gently, told her of their common hope and trust in God. At other times she pictured to herself her mother yet alive. And oh the happiness of falling on her neck, and clinging to her with the love and confidence of all her soul! And oh the desolation of the solitary house again, with evening coming on, and no one there!
But there was one thought, scarcely shaped out to herself, yet fervent and strong within her, that upheld Florence when she strove and filled her true young heart, so sorely tried, with constancy of purpose. Into her mind, as 'into all others contending with the great affliction of our mortal nature, there had stolen solemn wonderings and hopes, arising in the dim world beyond the present life, and murmuring, like faint music, of recognition in the far-off land between her brother and her mother: of some present consciousness in both of her: some love and commiseration for her: and some knowledge of her as she went her way upon the earth. It was a soothing consolation to Florence to give shelter to these thoughts, until one day - it was soon after she had last seen her father in his own room, late at night - the fancy came upon her, that, in weeping for his alienated heart, she might stir the spirits of the dead against him' Wild, weak, childish, as it may have been to think so, and to tremble at the half-formed thought, it was the impulse of her loving nature; and from that hour Florence strove against the cruel wound in her breast, and tried to think of him whose hand had made it, only with hope.
Her father did not know - she held to it from that time - how much she loved him. She was very young, and had no mother, and had never learned, by some fault or misfortune, how to express to him that she loved him. She would be patient, and would try to gain that art in time, and win him to a better knowledge of his only child.
This became the purpose of her life. The morning sun shone down upon the faded house, and found the resolution bright and fresh within the bosom of its solitary mistress, Through all the duties of the day, it animated her; for Florence hoped that the more she knew, and the more accomplished she became, the more glad he would be when he came to know and like her. Sometimes she wondered, with a swelling heart and rising tear, whether she was proficient enough in anything to surprise him when they should become companions. Sometimes she tried to think if there were any kind of knowledge that would bespeak his interest more readily than another. Always: at her books, her music, and her work: in her morning walks, and in her nightly prayers: she had her engrossing aim in view. Strange study for a child, to learn the road to a hard parent's heart!
There were many careless loungers through the street, as the summer evening deepened into night, who glanced across the road at the sombre house, and saw the youthful figure at the window, such a contrast to it, looking upward at the stars as they began to shine, who would have slept the worse if they had known on what design she mused so steady. The reputation of the mansion as a haunted house, would not have been the gayer with some humble dwellers elsewhere, who were struck by its external gloom in passing and repassing on their daily avocations, and so named it, if they could have read its story in the darkening face. But Florence held her sacred purpose, unsuspected and unaided: and studied only how to bring her father to the understanding that she loved him, and made no appeal against him in any wandering thought.
Thus Florence lived alone in the deserted house, and day succeeded day, and still she lived alone, and the monotonous walls looked down upon her with a stare, as if they had a Gorgon-like intent to stare her youth and beauty into stone.
Susan Nipper stood opposite to her young mistress one morning, as she folded and sealed a note she had been writing: and showed in her looks an approving knowledge of its contents.
'Better late than never, dear Miss Floy,' said Susan, 'and I do say, that even a visit to them old Skettleses will be a Godsend.'
'It is very good of Sir Barnet and Lady Skettles, Susan,' returned Florence, with a mild correction of that young lady's familiar mention of the family in question, 'to repeat their invitation so kindly.'
Miss Nipper, who was perhaps the most thoroughgoing partisan on the face of the earth, and who carried her partisanship into all matters great or small, and perpetually waged war with it against society, screwed up her lips and shook her head, as a protest against any recognition of disinterestedness in the Skettleses, and a plea in bar that they would have valuable consideration for their kindness, in the company of Florence.
'They know what they're about, if ever people did,' murmured Miss Nipper, drawing in her breath 'oh! trust them Skettleses for that!'
'I am not very anxious to go to Fulham, Susan, I confess,' said Florence thoughtfully: 'but it will be right to go. I think it will be better.'
'Much better,' interposed Susan, with another emphatic shake of her head.
'And so,' said Florence, 'though I would prefer to have gone when there was no one there, instead of in this vacation time, when it seems there are some young people staying in the house, I have thankfully said yes.'
'For which I say, Miss Floy, Oh be joyful!' returned Susan, 'Ah!
This last ejaculation, with which Miss Nipper frequently wound up a sentence, at about that epoch of time, was supposed below the level of the hall to have a general reference to Mr Dombey, and to be expressive of a yearning in Miss Nipper to favour that gentleman with a piece of her mind. But she never explained it; and it had, in consequence, the charm of mystery, in addition to the advantage of the sharpest expression.
'How long it is before we have any news of Walter, Susan!' observed Florence, after a moment's silence.
'Long indeed, Miss Floy!' replied her maid. 'And Perch said, when he came just now to see for letters - but what signifies what he says!' exclaimed Susan, reddening and breaking off. 'Much he knows about it!'
Florence raised her eyes quickly, and a flush overspread her face.
'If I hadn't,' said Susan Nipper, evidently struggling with some latent anxiety and alarm, and looking full at her young mistress, while endeavouring to work herself into a state of resentment with the unoffending Mr Perch's image, 'if I hadn't more manliness than that insipidest of his sex, I'd never take pride in my hair again, but turn it up behind my ears, and wear coarse caps, without a bit of border, until death released me from my insignificance. I may not be a Amazon, Miss Floy, and wouldn't so demean myself by such disfigurement, but anyways I'm not a giver up, I hope'
'Give up! What?' cried Florence, with a face of terror.
'Why, nothing, Miss,' said Susan. 'Good gracious, nothing! It's only that wet curl-paper of a man, Perch, that anyone might almost make away with, with a touch, and really it would be a blessed event for all parties if someone would take pity on him, and would have the goodness!'
'Does he give up the ship, Susan?' inquired Florence, very pale.
'No, Miss,' returned Susan, 'I should like to see' him make so bold as do it to my face! No, Miss, but he goes 'on about some bothering ginger that Mr Walter was to send to Mrs Perch, and shakes his dismal head, and says he hopes it may be coming; anyhow, he says, it can't come now in time for the intended occasion, but may do for next, which really,' said Miss Nipper, with aggravated scorn, 'puts me out of patience with the man, for though I can bear a great deal, I am not a camel, neither am I,' added Susan, after a moment's consideration, 'if I know myself, a dromedary neither.'
'What else does he say, Susan?' inquired Florence, earnestly. 'Won't you tell me?'
'As if I wouldn't tell you anything, Miss Floy, and everything!' said Susan. 'Why, nothing Miss, he says that there begins to be a general talk about the ship, and that they have never had a ship on that voyage half so long unheard of, and that the Captain's wife was at the office yesterday, and seemed a little put out about it, but anyone could say that, we knew nearly that before.'
'I must visit Walter's uncle,' said Florence, hurriedly, 'before I leave home. I will go and see him this morning. Let us walk there, directly, Susan.
Miss Nipper having nothing to urge against the proposal, but being perfectly acquiescent, they were soon equipped, and in the streets, and on their way towards the little Midshipman.
The state of mind in which poor Walter had gone to Captain Cuttle's, on the day when Brogley the broker came into possession, and when there seemed to him to be an execution in the very steeples, was pretty much the same as that in which Florence now took her way to Uncle Sol's; with this difference, that Florence suffered the added pain of thinking that she had been, perhaps, the innocent occasion of involving Walter in peril, and all to whom he was dear, herself included, in an agony of suspense. For the rest, uncertainty and danger seemed written upon everything. The weathercocks on spires and housetops were mysterious with hints of stormy wind, and pointed, like so many ghostly fingers, out to dangerous seas, where fragments of great wrecks were drifting, perhaps, and helpless men were rocked upon them into a sleep as deep as the unfathomable waters. When Florence came into the City, and passed gentlemen who were talking together, she dreaded to hear them speaking of the ship, an'd saying it was lost. Pictures and prints of vessels fighting with the rolling waves filled her with alarm. The smoke and clouds, though moving gently, moved too fast for her apprehensions, and made her fear there was a tempest blowing at that moment on the ocean.
Susan Nipper may or may not have been affected similarly, but having her attention much engaged in struggles with boys, whenever there was any press of people - for, between that grade of human kind and herself, there was some natural animosity that invariably broke out, whenever they came together - it would seem that she had not much leisure on the road for intellectual operations,
Arriving in good time abreast of the wooden Midshipman on the opposite side of the way, and waiting for an opportunity to cross the street, they were a little surprised at first to see, at the Instrument-maker's door, a round-headed lad, with his chubby face addressed towards the sky, who, as they looked at him, suddenly thrust into his capacious mouth two fingers of each hand, and with the assistance of that machinery whistled, with astonishing shrillness, to some pigeons at a considerable elevation in the air.
'Mrs Richards's eldest, Miss!' said Susan, 'and the worrit of Mrs Richards's life!'
As Polly had been to tell Florence of the resuscitated prospects of her son and heir, Florence was prepared for the meeting: so, a favourable moment presenting itself, they both hastened across, without any further contemplation of Mrs Richards's bane' That sporting character, unconscious of their approach, again whistled with his utmost might, and then yelled in a rapture of excitement, 'Strays! Whip! Strays!' which identification had such an effect upon the conscience-stricken pigeons, that instead of going direct to some town in the North of England, as appeared to have been their original intention, they began to wheel and falter; whereupon Mrs Richards's first born pierced them with another whistle, and again yelled, in a voice that rose above the turmoil of the street, 'Strays! Who~oop! Strays!'
From this transport, he was abruptly recalled to terrestrial objects, by a poke from Miss Nipper, which sent him into the shop,
'Is this the way you show your penitence, when Mrs Richards has been fretting for you months and months?' said Susan, following the poke. 'Where's Mr Gills?'
Rob, who smoothed his first rebellious glance at Miss Nipper when he saw Florence following, put his knuckles to his hair, in honour of the latter, and said to the former, that Mr Gills was out'
Fetch him home,' said Miss Nipper, with authority, 'and say that my young lady's here.'
'I don't know where he's gone,' said Rob.
'Is that your penitence?' cried Susan, with stinging sharpness.
'Why how can I go and fetch him when I don't know where to go?' whimpered the baited Rob. 'How can you be so unreasonable?'
'Did Mr Gills say when he should be home?' asked Florence.
'Yes, Miss,' replied Rob, with another application of his knuckles to his hair. 'He said he should be home early in the afternoon; in about a couple of hours from now, Miss.'
'Is he very anxious about his nephew?' inquired Susan.
'Yes, Miss,' returned Rob, preferring to address himself to Florence and slighting Nipper; 'I should say he was, very much so. He ain't indoors, Miss, not a quarter of an hour together. He can't settle in one place five minutes. He goes about, like a - just like a stray,' said Rob, stooping to get a glimpse of the pigeons through the window, and checking himself, with his fingers half-way to his mouth, on the verge of another whistle.
'Do you know a friend of Mr Gills, called Captain Cuttle?' inquired Florence, after a moment's reflection.
'Him with a hook, Miss?' rejoined Rob, with an illustrative twist of his left hand. Yes, Miss. He was here the day before yesterday.'
'Has he not been here since?' asked Susan.
'No, Miss,' returned Rob, still addressing his reply to Florence.
'Perhaps Walter's Uncle has gone there, Susan,' observed Florence, turning to her.
'To Captain Cuttle's, Miss?' interposed Rob; 'no, he's not gone there, Miss. Because he left particular word that if Captain Cuttle called, I should tell him how surprised he was, not to have seen him yesterday, and should make him stop till he came back'
'Do you know where Captain Cuttle lives?' asked Florence.
Rob replied in the affirmative, and turning to a greasy parchment book on the shop desk, read the address aloud.
Florence again turned to her maid and took counsel with her in a low voice, while Rob the round-eyed, mindful of his patron's secret charge, looked on and listened. Florence proposed that they kould go to Captain Cuttle's house; hear from his own lips, what he thought of the absence of any tidings ofthe Son and Heir; and bring him, if they could, to comfort Uncle Sol. Susan at first objected slightly, on the score of distance; but a hackney-coach being mentioned by her mistress, withdrew that opposition, and gave in her assent. There were some minutes of discussion between them before they came to this conclusion, during which the staring Rob paid close attention to both speakers, and inclined his ear to each by turns, as if he were appointed arbitrator of the argument.
In time, Rob was despatched for a coach, the visitors keeping shop meanwhile; and when he brought it, they got into it, leaving word for Uncle Sol that they would be sure to call again, on their way back. Rob having stared after the coach until it was as invisible as the pigeons had now become, sat down behind the desk with a most assiduous demeanour; and in order that he might forget nothing of what had transpired, made notes of it on various small scraps of paper, with a vast expenditure of ink. There was no danger of these documents betraying anything, if accidentally lost; for long before a word was dry, it became as profound a mystery to Rob, as if he had had no part whatever in its production.
While he was yet busy with these labours, the hackney-coach, after encountering unheard-of difficulties from swivel-bridges, soft roads, impassable canals, caravans of casks, settlements of scarlet-beans and little wash-houses, and many such obstacles abounding in that country, stopped at the corner of Brig Place. Alighting here, Florence and Susan Nipper walked down the street, and sought out the abode of Captain Cuttle.
It happened by evil chance to be one of Mrs MacStinger's great cleaning days. On these occasions, Mrs MacStinger was knocked up by the policeman at a quarter before three in the morning, and rarely such before twelve o'clock next night. The chief object of this institution appeared to be, that Mrs MacStinger should move all the furniture into the back garden at early dawn, walk about the house in pattens all day, and move the furniture back again after dark. These ceremonies greatly fluttered those doves the young MacStingers, who were not only unable at such times to find any resting-place for the soles of their feet, but generally came in for a good deal of pecking from the maternal bird during the progress of the solemnities.
At the moment when Florence and Susan Nipper presented themselves at Mrs MacStinger's door, that worthy but redoubtable female was in the act of conveying Alexander MacStinger, aged two years and three months, along the passage, for forcible deposition in a sitting posture on the street pavement: Alexander being black in the face with holding his breath after punishment, and a cool paving-stone being usually found to act as a powerful restorative in such cases.
The feelings of Mrs MacStinger, as a woman and a mother, were outraged by the look of pity for Alexander which she observed on Florence's face. Therefore, Mrs MacStinger asserting those finest emotions of our nature, in preference to weakly gratifying her curiosity, shook and buffeted Alexander both before and during the application of the paving-stone, and took no further notice of the strangers.
'I beg your pardon, Ma'am,' said Florence, when the child had found his breath again, and was using it. 'Is this Captain Cuttle's house?'
'No,' said Mrs MacStinger.
'Not Number Nine?' asked Florence, hesitating.
'Who said it wasn't Number Nine?' said Mrs MacStinger.
Susan Nipper instantly struck in, and begged to inquire what Mrs MacStinger meant by that, and if she knew whom she was talking to.
Mrs MacStinger in retort, looked at her all over. 'What do you want with Captain Cuttle, I should wish to know?' said Mrs MacStinger.
'Should you? Then I'm sorry that you won't be satisfied,' returned Miss Nipper.
'Hush, Susan! If you please!' said Florence. 'Perhaps you can have the goodness to tell us where Captain Cutlle lives, Ma'am as he don't live here.'
'Who says he don't live here?' retorted the implacable MacStinger. 'I said it wasn't Cap'en Cuttle's house - and it ain't his house -and forbid it, that it ever should be his house - for Cap'en Cuttle don't know how to keep a house - and don't deserve to have a house - it's my house - and when I let the upper floor to Cap'en Cuttle, oh I do a thankless thing, and cast pearls before swine!'
Mrs MacStinger pitched her voice for the upper windows in offering these remarks, and cracked off each clause sharply by itself as if from a rifle possessing an infinity of barrels. After the last shot, the Captain's voice was heard to say, in feeble remonstrance from his own room, 'Steady below!'
'Since you want Cap'en Cuttle, there he is!' said Mrs MacStinger, with an angry motion of her hand. On Florence making bold to enter, without any more parley, and on Susan following, Mrs MacStinger recommenced her pedestrian exercise in pattens, and Alexander MacStinger (still on the paving-stone), who had stopped in his crying to attend to the conversation, began to wail again, entertaining himself during that dismal performance, which was quite mechanical, with a general survey of the prospect, terminating in the hackney-coach.
The Captain in his own apartment was sitting with his hands in his pockets and his legs drawn up under his chair, on a very small desolate island, lying about midway in an ocean of soap and water. The Captain's windows had been cleaned, the walls had been cleaned, the stove had been cleaned, and everything the stove excepted, was wet, and shining with soft soap and sand: the smell of which dry-saltery impregnated the air. In the midst of the dreary scene, the Captain, cast away upon his island, looked round on the waste of waters with a rueful countenance, and seemed waiting for some friendly bark to come that way, and take him off.
But when the Captain, directing his forlorn visage towards the door, saw Florence appear with her maid, no words can describe his astonishment. Mrs MacStinger's eloquence having rendered all other sounds but imperfectly distinguishable, he had looked for no rarer visitor than the potboy or the milkman; wherefore, when Florence appeared, and coming to the confines of the island, put her hand in his, the Captain stood up, aghast, as if he supposed her, for the moment, to be some young member of the Flying Dutchman's family.'
Instantly recovering his self-possession, however, the Captain's first care was to place her on dry land, which he happily accomplished, with one motion of his arm. Issuing forth, then, upon the main, Captain Cuttle took Miss Nipper round the waist, and bore her to the island also. Captain Cuttle, then, with great respect and admiration, raised the hand of Florence to his lips, and standing off a little(for the island was not large enough for three), beamed on her from the soap and water like a new description of Triton.
'You are amazed to see us, I am sure,'said Florence, with a smile.
The inexpressibly gratified Captain kissed his hook in reply, and growled, as if a choice and delicate compliment were included in the words, 'Stand by! Stand by!'
'But I couldn't rest,' said Florence, 'without coming to ask you what you think about dear Walter - who is my brother now- and whether there is anything to fear, and whether you will not go and console his poor Uncle every day, until we have some intelligence of him?'
At these words Captain Cuttle, as by an involuntary gesture, clapped his hand to his head, on which the hard glazed hat was not, and looked discomfited.
'Have you any fears for Walter's safety?' inquired Florence, from whose face the Captain (so enraptured he was with it) could not take his eyes: while she, in her turn, looked earnestly at him, to be assured of the sincerity of his reply.
'No, Heart's-delight,' said Captain Cuttle, 'I am not afeard. Wal'r is a lad as'll go through a deal o' hard weather. Wal'r is a lad as'll bring as much success to that 'ere brig as a lad is capable on. Wal'r,' said the Captain, his eyes glistening with the praise of his young friend, and his hook raised to announce a beautiful quotation, 'is what you may call a out'ard and visible sign of an in'ard and spirited grasp, and when found make a note of.'
Florence, who did not quite understand this, though the Captain evidentllty thought it full of meaning, and highly satisfactory, mildly looked to him for something more.
'I am not afeard, my Heart's-delight,' resumed the Captain, 'There's been most uncommon bad weather in them latitudes, there's no denyin', and they have drove and drove and been beat off, may be t'other side the world. But the ship's a good ship, and the lad's a good lad; and it ain't easy, thank the Lord,' the Captain made a little bow, 'to break up hearts of oak, whether they're in brigs or buzzums. Here we have 'em both ways, which is bringing it up with a round turn, and so I ain't a bit afeard as yet.'
'As yet?' repeated Florence.
'Not a bit,' returned the Captain, kissing his iron hand; 'and afore I begin to be, my Hearts-delight, Wal'r will have wrote home from the island, or from some port or another, and made all taut and shipsahape'And with regard to old Sol Gills, here the Captain became solemn, 'who I'll stand by, and not desert until death do us part, and when the stormy winds do blow, do blow, do blow - overhaul the Catechism,' said the Captain parenthetically, 'and there you'll find them expressions - if it would console Sol Gills to have the opinion of a seafaring man as has got a mind equal to any undertaking that he puts it alongside of, and as was all but smashed in his'prenticeship, and of which the name is Bunsby, that 'ere man shall give him such an opinion in his own parlour as'll stun him. Ah!' said Captain Cuttle, vauntingly, 'as much as if he'd gone and knocked his head again a door!'
'Let us take this ~gentleman to see him, and let us hear what he says,' cried Florence. 'Will you go with us now? We have a coach here.'
Again the Captain clapped his hand to his head, on which the hard glazed hat was not, and looked discomfited. But at this instant a most remarkable phenomenon occurred. The door opening, without any note of preparation, and apparently of itself, the hard glazed hat in question skimmed into the room like a bird, and alighted heavily at the Captain's feet. The door then shut as violently as it had opened, and nothIng ensued in explanation of the prodigy.
Captain Cuttle picked up his hat, and having turned it over with a look of interest and welcome, began to polish it on his sleeve' While doing so, the Captain eyed his visitors intently, and said in a low voice
'You see I should have bore down on Sol Gills yesterday, and this morning, but she - she took it away and kep it. That's the long and short ofthe subject.'
'Who did, for goodness sake?' asked Susan Nipper.
'The lady of the house, my dear,'returned the Captain, in a gruff whisper, and making signals of secrecy.'We had some words about the swabbing of these here planks, and she - In short,' said the Captain, eyeing the door, and relieving himself with a long breath, 'she stopped my liberty.'
'Oh! I wish she had me to deal with!' said Susan, reddening with the energy of the wish. 'I'd stop her!'
'Would you, do you, my dear?' rejoined the Captain, shaking his head doubtfully, but regarding the desperate courage of the fair aspirant with obvious admiration. 'I don't know. It's difficult navigation. She's very hard to carry on with, my dear. You never can tell how she'll head, you see. She's full one minute, and round upon you next. And when she in a tartar,' said the Captain, with the perspiration breaking out upon his forehead. There was nothing but a whistle emphatic enough for the conclusion of the sentence, so the Captain whistled tremulously. After which he again shook his head, and recurring to his admiration of Miss Nipper's devoted bravery, timidly repeated, 'Would you, do you think, my dear?'
Susan only replied with a bridling smile, but that was so very full of defiance, that there is no knowing how long Captain Cuttle might have stood entranced in its contemplation, if Florence in her anxiety had not again proposed their immediately resorting to the oracular Bunsby. Thus reminded of his duty, Captain Cuttle Put on the glazed hat firmly, took up another knobby stick, with which he had supplied the place of that one given to Walter, and offering his arm to Florence, prepared to cut his way through the enemy.
It turned out, however, that Mrs MacStinger had already changed her course, and that she headed, as the Captain had remarked she often did, in quite a new direction. For when they got downstairs, they found that exemplary woman beating the mats on the doorsteps, with Alexander, still upon the paving-stone, dimly looming through a fog of dust; and so absorbed was Mrs MacStinger in her household occupation, that when Captain Cuttle and his visitors passed, she beat the harder, and neither by word nor gesture showed any consciousness of their vicinity. The Captain was so well pleased with this easy escape - although the effect of the door-mats on him was like a copious administration of snuff, and made him sneeze until the tears ran down his face - that he could hardly believe his good fortune; but more than once, between the door and the hackney-coach, looked over his shoulder, with an obvious apprehension of Mrs MacStinger's giving chase yet.
However, they got to the corner of Brig Place without any molestation from that terrible fire-ship; and the Captain mounting the coach-box - for his gallantry would not allow him to ride inside with the ladies, though besought to do so - piloted the driver on his course for Captain Bunsby's vessel, which was called the Cautious Clara, and was lying hard by Ratcliffe.
Arrived at the wharf off which this great commander's ship was jammed in among some five hundred companions, whose tangled rigging looked like monstrous cobwebs half swept down, Captain Cuttle appeared at the coach-window, and invited Florence and Miss Nipper to accompany him on board; observing that Bunsby was to the last degree soft-hearted in respect of ladies, and that nothing would so much tend to bring his expansive intellect into a state of harmony as their presentation to the Cautious Clara.
Florence readily consented; and the Captain, taking her little hand in his prodigious palm, led her, with a mixed expression of patronage, paternity, pride, and ceremony, that was pleasant to see, over several very dirty decks, until, coming to the Clara, they found that cautious craft (which lay outside the tier) with her gangway removed, and half-a-dozen feet of river interposed between herself and her nearest neighbour. It appeared, from Captain Cuttle's explanation, that the great Bunsby, like himself, was cruelly treated by his landlady, and that when her usage of him for the time being was so hard that he could bear it no longer, he set this gulf between them as a last resource.
'Clara a-hoy!' cried the Captain, putting a hand to each side of his mouth.
'A-hoy!' cried a boy, like the Captain's echo, tumbling up from below.
'Bunsby aboard?' cried the Captain, hailing the boy in a stentorian voice, as if he were half-a-mile off instead of two yards.
'Ay, ay!' cried the boy, in the same tone.
The boy then shoved out a plank to Captain Cuttle, who adjusted it carefully, and led Florence across: returning presently for Miss Nipper. So they stood upon the deck of the Cautious Clara, in whose standing rigging, divers fluttering articles of dress were curing, in company with a few tongues and some mackerel.
Immediately there appeared, coming slowly up above the bulk-head of the cabin, another bulk-head 'human, and very large - with one stationary eye in the mahogany face, and one revolving one, on the principle of some lighthouses. This head was decorated with shaggy hair, like oakum,' which had no governing inclination towards the north, east, west, or south, but inclined to all four quarters of the compass, and to every point upon it. The head was followed by a perfect desert of chin, and by a shirt-collar and neckerchief, and by a dreadnought pilot-coat, and by a pair of dreadnought pilot-trousers, whereof the waistband was so very broad and high, that it became a succedaneum for a waistcoat: being ornamented near the wearer's breastbone with some massive wooden buttons, like backgammon men. As the lower portions of these pantaloons became revealed, Bunsby stood confessed; his hands in their pockets, which were of vast size; and his gaze directed, not to Captain Cuttle or the ladies, but the mast-head.
The profound appearance of this philosopher, who was bulky and strong, and on whose extremely red face an expression of taciturnity sat enthroned, not inconsistent with his character, in which that quality was proudly conspicuous, almost daunted Captain Cuttle, though on familiar terms with him. Whispering to Florence that Bunsby had never in his life expressed surprise, and was considered not to know what it meant, the Captain watched him as he eyed his mast-head, and afterwards swept the horizon; and when the revolving eye seemed to be coming round in his direction, said:
'Bunsby, my lad, how fares it?'
A deep, gruff, husky utterance, which seemed to have no connexion with Bunsby, and certainly had not the least effect upon his face, replied, 'Ay, ay, shipmet, how goes it?' At the same time Bunsby's right hand and arm, emerging from a pocket, shook the Captain's, and went back again.
'Bunsby,' said the Captain, striking home at once, 'here you are; a man of mind, and a man as can give an opinion. Here's a young lady as wants to take that opinion, in regard of my friend Wal'r; likewise my t'other friend, Sol Gills, which is a character for you to come within hail of, being a man of science, which is the mother of inwention, and knows no law. Bunsby, will you wear, to oblige me, and come along with us?'
The great commander, who seemed by expression of his visage to be always on the look-out for something in the extremest distance' and to have no ocular knowledge of any anng' within ten miles, made no reply whatever.
'Here is a man,' said the Captain, addressing himself to his fair auditors, and indicating the commander with his outstretched hook, 'that has fell down, more than any man alive; that has had more accidents happen to his own self than the Seamen's Hospital to all hands; that took as many spars and bars and bolts about the outside of his head when he was young, as you'd want a order for on Chatham-yard to build a pleasure yacht with; and yet that his opinions in that way, it's my belief, for there ain't nothing like 'em afloat or ashore.'
The stolid commander appeared by a very slight vibration in his elbows, to express some satisfitction in this encomium; but if his face had been as distant as his gaze was, it could hardIy have enlightened the beholders less in reference to anything that was passing in his thoughts.
'Shipmate,' said Bunsby, all of a sudden, and stooping down to look out under some interposing spar, 'what'll the ladies drink?'
Captain Cuttle, whose delicacy was shocked by such an inquiry in connection with Florence, drew the sage aside, and seeming to explain in his ear, accompanied him below; where, that he might not take offence, the Captain drank a dram himself' which Florence and Susan, glancing down the open skylight, saw the sage, with difficulty finding room for himself between his berth and a very little brass fireplace, serve out for self and friend. They soon reappeared on deck, and Captain Cuttle, triumphing in the success of his enterprise, conducted Florence back to the coach, while Bunsby followed, escorting Miss Nipper, whom he hugged upon the way (much to that young lady's indignation) with his pilot-coated arm, like a blue bear.
The Captain put his oracle inside, and gloried so much in having secured him, and having got that mind into a hackney-coach, that he could not refrain from often peeping in at Florence through the little window behind the driver, and testifiing his delight in smiles, and also in taps upon his forehead, to hint to her that the brain of Bunsby was hard at it' In the meantime, Bunsby, still hugging Miss Nipper (for his friend, the Captain, had not exaggerated the softness of his heart), uniformily preserved his gravity of deportment, and showed no other consciousness of her or anything.
Uncle Sol, who had come home, received them at the door, and ushered them immediately into the little back parlour: strangely altered by the absence of Walter. On the table, and about the room, were the charts and maps on which the heavy-hearted Instrument-maker had again and again tracked the missing vessel across the sea, and on which, with a pair of compasses that he still had in his hand, he had been measuring, a minute before, how far she must have driven, to have driven here or there: and trying to demonstrate that a long time must elapse before hope was exhausted.
'Whether she can have run,' said Uncle Sol, looking wistfully over the chart; 'but no, that's almost impossible or whether she can have been forced by stress of weather, - but that's not reasonably likely. Or whether there is any hope she so far changed her course as - but even I can hardly hope that!' With such broken suggestions, poor old Uncle Sol roamed over the great sheet before him, and could not find a speck of hopeful probability in it large enough to set one small point of the compasses upon.
Florence saw immediately - it would have been difficult to help seeing - that there was a singular, indescribable change in the old man, and that while his manner was far more restless and unsettled than usual, there was yet a curious, contradictory decision in it, that perplexed her very much. She fancied once that he spoke wildly, and at random; for on her saying she regretted not to have seen him when she had been there before that morning, he at first replied that he had been to see her, and directly afterwards seemed to wish to recall that answer.
'You have been to see me?' said Florence. 'To-day?'
'Yes, my dear young lady,' returned Uncle Sol, looking at her and away from her in a confused manner. 'I wished to see you with my own eyes, and to hear you with my own ears, once more before - ' There he stopped.
'Before when? Before what?' said Florence, putting her hand upon his arm.
'Did I say "before?"' replied old Sol. 'If I did, I must have meant before we should have news of my dear boy.'
'You are not well,' said Florence, tenderly. 'You have been so very anxious I am sure you are not well.'
'I am as well,' returned the old man, shutting up his right hand, and holding it out to show her: 'as well and firm as any man at my time of life can hope to be. See! It's steady. Is its master not as capable of resolution and fortitude as many a younger man? I think so. We shall see.'
There was that in his manner more than in his words, though they remained with her too, which impressed Florence so much, that she would have confided her uneasiness to Captain Cuttle at that moment, if the Captain had not seized that moment for expounding the state of circumstance, on which the opinion of the sagacious Bunsby was requested, and entreating that profound authority to deliver the same.
Bunsby, whose eye continued to be addressed to somewhere about the half-way house between London and Gravesend, two or three times put out his rough right arm, as seeking to wind it for inspiration round the fair form of Miss Nipper; but that young female having withdrawn herself, in displeasure, to the opposite side of the table, the soft heart of the Commander of the Cautious Clara met with no response to its impulses. After sundry failures in this wise, the Commander, addressing himself to nobody, thus spake; or rather the voice within him said of its own accord, and quite independent of himself, as if he were possessed by a gruff spirit:
'My name's Jack Bunsby!'
'He was christened John,' cried the delighted Captain Cuttle. 'Hear him!'
'And what I says,' pursued the voice, after some deliberation, 'I stands to.
The Captain, with Florence on his arm, nodded at the auditory, and seemed to say, 'Now he's coming out. This is what I meant when I brought him.'
'Whereby,' proceeded the voice, 'why not? If so, what odds? Can any man say otherwise? No. Awast then!'
When it had pursued its train of argument to this point, the voice stopped, and rested. It then proceeded very slowly, thus:
'Do I believe that this here Son and Heir's gone down, my lads? Mayhap. Do I say so? Which? If a skipper stands out by Sen' George's Channel, making for the Downs, what's right ahead of him? The Goodwins. He isn't foroed to run upon the Goodwins, but he may. The bearings of this observation lays in the application on it. That ain't no part of my duty. Awast then, keep a bright look-out for'ard, and good luck to you!'
The voice here went out of the back parlour and into the street, taking the Commander of the Cautious Clara with it, and accompanying him on board again with all convenient expedition, where he immediately turned in, and refreshed his mind with a nap.
The students of the sage's precepts, left to their own application of his wisdom - upon a principle which was the main leg of the Bunsby tripod, as it is perchance of some other oracular stools - looked upon one another in a little uncertainty; while Rob the Grinder, who had taken the innocent freedom of peering in, and listening, through the skylight in the roof, came softly down from the leads, in a state of very dense confusion. Captain Cuttle, however, whose admiration of Bunsby was, if possible, enhanced by the splendid manner in which he had justified his reputation and come through this solemn reference, proceeded to explain that Bunsby meant nothing but confidence; that Bunsby had no misgivings; and that such an opinion as that man had given, coming from such a mind as his, was Hope's own anchor, with good roads to cast it in. Florence endeavoured to believe that the Captain was right; but the Nipper, with her arms tight folded, shook her head in resolute denial, and had no more trust m Bunsby than in Mr Perch himself.
The philosopher seemed to have left Uncle Sol pretty much where he had found him, for he still went roaming about the watery world, compasses in hand, and discovering no rest for them. It was in pursuance of a whisper in his ear from Florence, while the old man was absorbed in this pursuit, that Captain Cuttle laid his heavy hand upon his shoulder.
'What cheer, Sol Gills?' cried the Captain, heartily.
'But so-so, Ned,' returned the Instrument-maker. 'I have been remembering, all this afternoon, that on the very day when my boy entered Dombey's House, and came home late to dinner, sitting just there where you stand, we talked of storm and shipwreck, and I could hardly turn him from the subject'
But meeting the eyes of Florence, which were fixed with earnest scrutiny upon his face, the old man stopped and smiled.
'Stand by, old friend!' cried the Captain. 'Look alive! I tell you what, Sol Gills; arter I've convoyed Heart's-delight safe home,' here the Captain kissed his hook to Florence, 'I'll come back and take you in tow for the rest of this blessed day. You'll come and eat your dinner along with me, Sol, somewheres or another.'
'Not to-day, Ned!' said the old man quickly, and appearing to be unaccountably startled by the proposition. 'Not to-day. I couldn't do it!'
'Why not?' returned the Captain, gazing at him in astonishment.
'I - I have so much to do. I - I mean to think of, and arrange. I couldn't do it, Ned, indeed. I must go out again, and be alone, and turn my mind to many things to-day.'
The Captain looked at the Instrument-maker, and looked at Florence, and again at the Instrument-maker. 'To-morrow, then,' he suggested, at last.
'Yes, yes. To-morrow,' said the old man. 'Think of me to-morrow. Say to-morrow.'
'I shall come here early, mind, Sol Gills,' stipulated the Captain.
'Yes, yes. The first thing tomorrow morning,' said old Sol; 'and now good-bye, Ned Cuttle, and God bless you!'
Squeezing both the Captain's hands, with uncommon fervour, as he said it, the old man turned to Florence, folded hers in his own, and put them to his lips; then hurried her out to the coach with very singular precipitation. Altogether, he made such an effect on Captain Cuttle that the Captain lingered behind, and instructed Rob to be particularly gentle and attentive to his master until the morning: which injunction he strengthened with the payment of one shilling down, and the promise of another sixpence before noon next day. This kind office performed, Captain Cuttle, who considered himself the natural and lawful body-guard of Florence, mounted the box with a mighty sense of his trust, and escorted her home. At parting, he assured her that he would stand by Sol Gills, close and true; and once again inquired of Susan Nipper, unable to forget her gallant words in reference to Mrs MacStinger, 'Would you, do you think my dear, though?'
When the desolate house had closed upon the two, the Captain's thoughts reverted to the old Instrument-maker, and he felt uncomfortable. Therefore, instead of going home, he walked up and down the street several times, and, eking out his leisure until evening, dined late at a certain angular little tavern in the City, with a public parlour like a wedge, to which glazed hats much resorted. The Captain's principal intention was to pass Sol Gills's, after dark, and look in through the window: which he did, The parlour door stood open, and he could see his old friend writing busily and steadily at the table within, while the little Midshipman, already sheltered from the night dews, watched him from the counter; under which Rob the Grinder made his own bed, preparatory to shutting the shop. Reassured by the tranquillity that reigned within the precincts of the wooden mariner, the Captain headed for Brig Place, resolving to weigh anchor betimes in the morning.
弗洛伦斯孤独地居住在这座宏伟而冷清的公馆中，一天又一天地过去，她仍孤独地居住着；光秃秃的墙壁含着发呆的眼光俯视着她，仿佛它们怀着戈冈①般的心肠，决心凝视着她，使她的青春和美貌转变成石头似的。
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①戈冈（Gorgon）：希腊神话中三个有蛇发的女怪之一，面目狰狞，人一见她之后就立刻吓得变成石头。
妖魔故事中隐藏在密林深处、具有奇异魔力的住宅，没有一座在想象中能比她父亲的公馆在冷酷的现实中更加凄凉冷落、无人过问；它俯临着大街；夜间，当邻近的窗子放射出光芒时，它经常是这条光线微弱的街道上的一个暗点；白天，它经常是这条街道从不露出微笑的脸上的一道皱眉。
在这座公馆的前面，没有像妖魔传奇中通常所见到的那样，有两条龙守卫着监禁在里面的清白无辜的受害者；但在门的拱道上面有一张怒目而视的脸，邪恶地张开薄薄的嘴唇，俯瞰着所有的来人；除此之外，还有一个奇形怪状的生了锈的铁栅栏，曲曲弯弯，像一个藤架的化石一样竖立在门槛上，上面是细长的和螺旋形的尖端，两边各挂着一个不祥的熄灯器，似乎在说，“进去的人，请把光留有后面！”①正门上没有刻上任何辟邪驱怪的文字，但是这座公馆现在外表上十分冷落凄凉，孩子们都用粉笔在栏杆和铺石的道路上——特别是在墙角周围——乱涂乱写，还在马厩的门上画上鬼怪；因为他们有时被托林森先生撵跑，所以他们就采取报复，在上面画上他的肖像，把他的耳朵画成从帽子底下沿着水平方向长出来。在这座公馆屋顶的阴影下，不再有任何喧闹的声音。吹奏铜管乐器的乐队每星期一次在早上来到街上，当它走过这些窗子下面的时候，从来没有吹奏过一个曲调；所有这些娱乐团体都一鼻孔出气似地把它当做一个不可救药的地方，疏远它，回避它，直至那可怜的弹小管风琴的艺人也毫不例外。（这艺人的技艺很不高明，还配上一些用机械自动操作的蹩脚的舞蹈木偶，在双扇门下进进出出地跳着华尔兹舞）。
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①意大利诗人但丁（Dante，公元1265—1321年）在《神曲》的《地狱》篇中写道，地狱的正门上刻着以下文字：“进去的人，请把希望抛弃！”狄更斯把这个有名的警句在这里有趣地进行了改写。
对董贝先生公馆所施加的魔力要比那种使房屋沉睡一段时间、但醒来时仍清新如初、丝毫无损的魔力具有更大的破坏性。
荒废的凄凉景象处处都在默默无声地证明这一点。房间里面，窗帘垂头丧气，萎靡不振，失去了先前的折痕与形状，像笨重的柩衣一般悬挂着；大批不用的家具像在大祭时被屠杀的大量牲口一样，依旧堆积着和被覆盖着，像被囚禁和遗忘的人们一样蜷缩着，不知不觉地改变着形貌。镜子好像随着岁月的呼吸，变得暗淡无光。地毯上的图案褪了色，看去模糊不清，像对往昔岁月中零星琐事的回忆一样。木板对不习惯的脚步感到吃惊，吱嘎吱嘎地响着并颤抖着。钥匙在门锁中生了锈。墙壁开始潮湿。图画在污土的覆盖下似乎退缩下去，隐匿起来。霉菌开始潜藏在壁橱中。真菌从地窖的角落中生长出来。灰尘积聚着，谁也不知道是从哪里和怎样积聚起来的。蜘蛛、蛀虫和蛆蛴螬的声音每天都可以听到。喜爱探险猎奇的蟑螂不时可以在楼梯上或楼上的房间中看到，他一动不动，仿佛在纳罕，他怎么跑到那里去的。耗子到了夜间就穿过它们在墙上嵌板后面凿通的黑洞洞的通道，吱吱响叫并相互扭打着。
从关上的百叶窗中透过来的未必是真正的光线中，可以模糊看得出大房间中冷冷清清而又庄严豪华的景象；它也许正好充分说明这是一座被施过魔力的住宅。例如：镀金的狮子把失去光泽的脚爪偷偷地从罩套下面伸出；树立在底座上的大理石半身像的轮廓，透过面纱可怕地显露出来；时钟从不报时，或者如果偶尔拧上发条的话，就报错时间，敲打着人世间不存在、在针盘上没有显示出来的时间；悬挂着的分枝灯架偶尔相撞时发出的叮当响声比警钟更使人震惊；减弱了的声音和迟缓的气流在这些物体中间穿行；许多其他物品被寿衣和罩套覆盖着，就像虚幻的鬼怪一样，呈现出非现实的形状。可是除此之外，还有那个大楼梯，这座房屋的主人很少攀登到上面，而他的小儿子则沿着它上升到天国。还有其他的楼梯和走廊，是好几个星期谁也不去的；有两个锁上的房间与这个家庭死去的成员联系着，人们见到它们有时会窃窃私语，回忆起他们。除了弗洛伦斯以外，公馆中所有的人还看到一个温柔的人儿在穿过寂寞与幽暗的景物走动着；
她向每一件没有生命的东西带去了活着的人们的关心与惊讶。
因为弗洛伦斯孤独地居住在这座无人过问的房屋中；一天又一天地过去，她仍旧孤独地居住着；冷冰冰的墙壁含着发呆的眼光俯视着她，仿佛它们怀着戈冈般的心肠，决心凝视着她，使她的青春和美貌转变成石头似的。
青草开始在屋顶上和底层砌石的缝隙里生长出来。鳞状的、碎粒般的植物在窗台四周发芽。一片片灰浆在久未使用的烟囱里壁失去了粘附力，纷纷往下掉落。两株干子被烟薰了的树，顶梢被薰枯了，凋残的树枝在树叶上面高耸着。整个房屋，白色已转为黄色，黄色已转为近乎黑色；自从那位可怜的夫人死去以后，它已逐渐成为这条单调无趣的长街上的一个黑暗的豁口。
但是弗洛伦斯像故事中国王的美丽的女儿一样，在这里茁壮美好地成长着。如果不算苏珊•尼珀和戴奥吉尼斯的话，那么书本、音乐和每天来到的老师是她仅有的真正伴侣。苏珊•尼珀陪同她年轻的女主人一起上课，因此也获得了很多知识。戴奥吉尼斯可能由于同样的影响，变得温和起来了；他整个夏天上午会把头搁在窗台上，一会儿张开着眼睛，一会儿闭着眼睛，平平静静地对着街道；有时他猛抬起头来，含着极为深意的眼光，目送着一条吵吵嚷嚷的狗，在大车中一路吠叫过去；有时他勃然大怒，莫名其妙地回忆起邻近假想的敌人，猛冲到门口，在那里震耳欲聋地狂吠一阵之后，露出了他那特有的滑稽可笑和得意扬扬的姿态，磨磨蹭蹭地走回来，重新把下巴搁到窗台上，显出一条已为公众立功效劳的狗的神气。
弗洛伦斯就这样生活在她的冷清凄凉的家中，进行着单纯的研究，心中怀着单纯的思想，没有什么东西扰乱她的安宁。她现在可以走到楼下父亲的房间里，想念着他，听凭她热爱的心忍辱含垢地接近他，不用害怕遭到拒绝。她可以观看他在悲伤中周围的物品，并可以偎依在他的椅子旁边，不用恐惧会碰上她记得清清楚楚的那个眼光。她可以向他表示一点小小的孝敬与关心，比方说亲手为他把一切物品收拾得整整齐齐，并且捆扎花束放在他的桌子上，当它们一支支枯萎了的时候就给换上新鲜的。他没有回来，她就每天为他准备一点东西，在他平常的座位旁边胆怯地留下一点表示她曾到过那里的东西。今天，是给他的表准备一只小小的油漆的托座；明天她可能害怕把它留在那里会引起他的注意，就换上她所做的其它小玩艺儿。也许，当她半夜里醒来，想到他回到家中，怒气冲冲地把它丢弃的时候，她会趿着拖鞋，心中怦怦直跳地急忙跪下楼去，把它拿走。在其他时候，她会只把脸贴在他的写字台上，留下一个亲吻和一滴眼泪。
依旧没有人知道这种情况。只要仆人们当她不在的时候没有发现这一点——他们所有的人对董贝先生的房间都是诚惶诚恐，望而生畏的——，这个秘密就可以像先前一样，深深地藏在她的心中。弗洛伦斯在清早天刚蒙蒙亮的时候以及仆人们在地下室用餐的时候，偷偷地走进这些房间。虽然房间里每个角落由于她的照料变得更美好更明亮，但她却仍像阳光一样，无声无息地进去和出来，唯一的差别是她把她的光留在后面。
虚幻的伴侣们伴随着弗洛伦斯在这座能发出回声的房屋中来来去去，跟她在这空荡荡的房间中坐在一起。仿佛她的生活是施加了魔力之后所产生的梦幻；她在孤独中产生出一些思想，使得这种生活成为虚幻的和非现实的。她经常想象：如果她的父亲一直能够爱她，她是他的掌上明珠的话，那么她的生活将会是怎样的；有时在片刻间她几乎相信情况就是那样的；在幻想海阔天空地翩翩飞翔之中，她仿佛记得，他们曾经怎样一道到坟墓里去看望他的弟弟，他们曾经怎样任意地分享他的爱心；他们在对他的亲切回忆中怎样结合成为一个整体；他们怎样还经常谈到他，他的慈爱的父亲亲切地望着她，跟她谈到他们的共同希望和对上帝的共同信仰。在其他时间中她想象母亲好像还活着。啊，当她搂着她的脖子，怀着整个心灵的热爱与信赖，抱住她的时候，这是何等幸福啊！可是，啊，在这冷落的公馆中重新是一片凄凉；当晚上来临的时候，一个人也没有！
可是有一个思想支持着弗洛伦斯进行奋斗；这个思想她自己虽然未必清楚，但在她内心中却是火热的和强烈的；这个思想使她那颗忠实的、年轻的、经受了残酷考验的心能够坚韧不拔地去追求她的目的。在现世生活以外的朦胧的世界中所生起的神圣的疑虑与希望，悄悄地潜入她的心中，就像潜入其他所有难免一死、因而极为苦恼的人们的心中一样，它们像声音轻微的音乐一样，低声诉说着她的母亲和弟弟怎样在遥远的异国中会晤；他们两人现在还想念着她，还在爱着她，怜悯着她，知道她在这尘世中怎样走着路。对弗洛伦斯来说，陶醉在这些思想之中是能够减轻痛苦的安慰，但是有一天她心中忽然想起——这是她最近深夜在她父亲房间中看到他以后不久产生的想法——，当她为他的那颗对她疏远冷淡的心而悲伤哭泣的时候，她可能会激起死者的
Chapter 24
The Study of a Loving Heart
Sir Barnet and Lady Skettles, very good people, resided in a pretty villa at Fulham, on the banks of the Thames; which was one of the most desirable residences in the world when a rowing-match happened to be going past, but had its little inconveniences at other times, among which may be enumerated the occasional appearance of the river in the drawing-room, and the contemporaneous disappearance of the lawn and shrubbery.
Sir Barnet Skettles expressed his personal consequence chiefly through an antique gold snuffbox, and a ponderous silk pocket-kerchief, which he had an imposing manner of drawing out of his pocket like a banner and using with both hands at once. Sir Barnet's object in life was constantly to extend the range of his acquaintance. Like a heavy body dropped into water - not to disparage so worthy a gentleman by the comparison - it was in the nature of things that Sir Barnet must spread an ever widening circle about him, until there was no room left. Or, like a sound in air, the vibration of which, according to the speculation of an ingenious modern philosopher, may go on travelling for ever through the interminable fields of space, nothing but coming to the end of his moral tether could stop Sir Barnet Skettles in his voyage of discovery through the social system.
Sir Barnet was proud of making people acquainted with people. He liked the thing for its own sake, and it advanced his favourite object too. For example, if Sir Barnet had the good fortune to get hold of a law recruit, or a country gentleman, and ensnared him to his hospitable villa, Sir Barnet would say to him, on the morning after his arrival, 'Now, my dear Sir, is there anybody you would like to know? Who is there you would wish to meet? Do you take any interest in writing people, or in painting or sculpturing people, or in acting people, or in anything of that sort?' Possibly the patient answered yes, and mentioned somebody, of whom Sir Barnet had no more personal knowledge than of Ptolemy the Great. Sir Barnet replied, that nothing on earth was easier, as he knew him very well: immediately called on the aforesaid somebody, left his card, wrote a short note, - 'My dear Sir - penalty of your eminent position - friend at my house naturally desirous - Lady Skettles and myself participate - trust that genius being superior to ceremonies, you will do us the distinguished favour of giving us the pleasure,' etc, etc. - and so killed a brace of birds with one stone, dead as door-nails.
With the snuff-box and banner in full force, Sir Barnet Skettles propounded his usual inquiry to Florence on the first morning of her visit. When Florence thanked him, and said there was no one in particular whom she desired to see, it was natural she should think with a pang, of poor lost Walter. When Sir Barnet Skettles, urging his kind offer, said, 'My dear Miss Dombey, are you sure you can remember no one whom your good Papa - to whom I beg you present the best compliments of myself and Lady Skettles when you write - might wish you to know?' it was natural, perhaps, that her poor head should droop a little, and that her voice should tremble as it softly answered in the negative.
Skettles Junior, much stiffened as to his cravat, and sobered down as to his spirits' was at home for the holidays, and appeared to feel himself aggrieved by the solicitude of his excellent mother that he should be attentive to Florence. Another and a deeper injury under which the soul of young Barnet chafed, was the company of Dr and Mrs Blimber, who had been invited on a visit to the paternal roof-tree, and of whom the young gentleman often said he would have preferred their passing the vacation at Jericho.
'Is there anybody you can suggest now, Doctor Blimber?' said Sir Barnet Skettles, turning to that gentleman.
'You are very kind, Sir Barnet,' returned Doctor Blimber. 'Really I am not aware that there is, in particular. I like to know my fellow-men in general, Sir Barnet. What does Terence say? Anyone who is the parent of a son is interesting to me.
'Has Mrs Blimber any wish to see any remarkable person?' asked Sir Barnet, courteously.
Mrs Blimber replied, with a sweet smile and a shake of her sky-blue cap, that if Sir Barnet could have made her known to Cicero, she would have troubled him; but such an introduction not being feasible, and she already enjoying the friendship of himself and his amiable lady, and possessing with the Doctor her husband their joint confidence in regard to their dear son - here young Barnet was observed to curl his nose - she asked no more.
Sir Barnet was fain, under these circumstances, to content himself for the time with the company assembled. Florence was glad of that; for she had a study to pursue among them, and it lay too near her heart, and was too precious and momentous, to yield to any other interest.
There were some children staying in the house. Children who were as frank and happy with fathers and with mothers as those rosy faces opposite home. Children who had no restraint upon their love. and freely showed it. Florence sought to learn their secret; sought to find out what it was she had missed; what simple art they knew, and she knew not; how she could be taught by them to show her father that she loved him, and to win his love again.
Many a day did Florence thoughtfully observe these children. On many a bright morning did she leave her bed when the glorious sun rose, and walking up and down upon the river's bank' before anyone in the house was stirring, look up at the windows of their rooms, and think of them, asleep, so gently tended and affectionately thought of. Florence would feel more lonely then, than in the great house all alone; and would think sometimes that she was better there than here, and that there was greater peace in hiding herself than in mingling with others of her age, and finding how unlike them all she was. But attentive to her study, though it touched her to the quick at every little leaf she turned in the hard book, Florence remained among them, and tried with patient hope, to gain the knowledge that she wearied for.
Ah! how to gain it! how to know the charm in its beginning! There were daughters here, who rose up in the morning, and lay down to rest at night, possessed of fathers' hearts already. They had no repulse to overcome, no coldness to dread, no frown to smooth away. As the morning advanced, and the windows opened one by one, and the dew began to dry upon the flowers and and youthful feet began to move upon the lawn, Florence, glancing round at the bright faces, thought what was there she could learn from these children? It was too late to learn from them; each could approach her father fearlessly, and put up her lips to meet the ready kiss, and wind her arm about the neck that bent down to caress her. She could not begin by being so bold. Oh! could it be that there was less and less hope as she studied more and more!
She remembered well, that even the old woman who had robbed her when a little child - whose image and whose house, and all she had said and done, were stamped upon her recollection, with the enduring sharpness of a fearful impression made at that early period of life - had spoken fondly of her daughter, and how terribly even she had cried out in the pain of hopeless separation from her child But her own mother, she would think again, when she recalled this, had loved her well. Then, sometimes, when her thoughts reverted swiftly to the void between herself and her father, Florence would tremble, and the tears would start upon her face, as she pictured to herself her mother living on, and coming also to dislike her, because of her wanting the unknown grace that should conciliate that father naturally, and had never done so from her cradle She knew that this imagination did wrong to her mother's memory, and had no truth in it, or base to rest upon; and yet she tried so hard to justify him, and to find the whole blame in herself, that she could not resist its passing, like a wild cloud, through the distance of her mind.
There came among the other visitors, soon after Florence, one beautiful girl, three or four years younger than she, who was an orphan child, and who was accompanied by her aunt, a grey-haired lady, who spoke much to Florence, and who greatly liked (but that they all did) to hear her sing of an evening, and would always sit near her at that time, with motherly interest. They had only been two days in the house, when Florence, being in an arbour in the garden one warm morning, musingly observant of a youthful group upon the turf, through some intervening boughs, - and wreathing flowers for the head of one little creature among them who was the pet and plaything of the rest, heard this same lady and her niece, in pacing up and down a sheltered nook close by, speak of herself.
'Is Florence an orphan like me, aunt?' said the child.
'No, my love. She has no mother, but her father is living.'
'Is she in mourning for her poor Mama, now?' inquired the child quickly.
'No; for her only brother.'
'Has she no other brother?'
'None.'
'No sister?'
'None,'
'I am very, very sorry!' said the little girL
As they stopped soon afterwards to watch some boats, and had been silent in the meantime, Florence, who had risen when she heard her name, and had gathered up her flowers to go and meet them, that they might know of her being within hearing, resumed her seat and work, expecting to hear no more; but the conversation recommenced next moment.
'Florence is a favourite with everyone here, and deserves to be, I am sure,' said the child, earnestly. 'Where is her Papa?'
The aunt replied, after a moment's pause, that she did not know. Her tone of voice arrested Florence, who had started from her seat again; and held her fastened to the spot, with her work hastily caught up to her bosom, and her two hands saving it from being scattered on the ground.
'He is in England, I hope, aunt?' said the child.
'I believe so. Yes; I know he is, indeed.'
'Has he ever been here?'
'I believe not. No.'
'Is he coming here to see her?'
'I believe not.
'Is he lame, or blind, or ill, aunt?' asked the child.
The flowers that Florence held to her breast began to fall when she heard those words, so wonderingly spoke She held them closer; and her face hung down upon them'
'Kate,' said the lady, after another moment of silence, 'I will tell you the whole truth about Florence as I have heard it, and believe it to be. Tell no one else, my dear, because it may be little known here, and your doing so would give her pain.'
'I never will!' exclaimed the child.
'I know you never will,' returned the lady. 'I can trust you as myself. I fear then, Kate, that Florence's father cares little for her, very seldom sees her, never was kind to her in her life, and now quite shuns her and avoids her. She would love him dearly if he would suffer her, but he will not - though for no fault of hers; and she is greatly to be loved and pitied by all gentle hearts.'
More of the flowers that Florence held fell scattering on the ground; those that remained were wet, but not with dew; and her face dropped upon her laden hands.
'Poor Florence! Dear, good Florence!' cried the child.
'Do you know why I have told you this, Kate?' said the lady.
'That I may be very kind to her, and take great care to try to please her. Is that the reason, aunt?'
'Partly,' said the lady, 'but not all. Though we see her so cheerful; with a pleasant smile for everyone; ready to oblige us all, and bearing her part in every amusement here: she can hardly be quite happy, do you think she can, Kate?'
'I am afraid not,' said the little girl.
'And you can understand,' pursued the lady, 'why her observation of children who have parents who are fond of them, and proud of them - like many here, just now - should make her sorrowful in secret?'
'Yes, dear aunt,' said the child, 'I understand that very well. Poor Florence!'
More flowers strayed upon the ground, and those she yet held to her breast trembled as if a wintry wind were rustling them.
'My Kate,' said the lady, whose voice was serious, but very calm and sweet, and had so impressed Florence from the first moment of her hearing it, 'of all the youthful people here, you are her natural and harmless friend; you have not the innocent means, that happier children have - '
'There are none happier, aunt!' exclaimed the child, who seemed to cling about her.
'As other children have, dear Kate, of reminding her of her misfortune. Therefore I would have you, when you try to be her little friend, try all the more for that, and feel that the bereavement you sustained - thank Heaven! before you knew its weight- gives you claim and hold upon poor Florence.'
'But I am not without a parent's love, aunt, and I never have been,' said the child, 'with you.'
'However that may be, my dear,' returned the lady, 'your misfortune is a lighter one than Florence's; for not an orphan in the wide world can be so deserted as the child who is an outcast from a living parent's love.'
The flowers were scattered on the ground like dust; the empty hands were spread upon the face; and orphaned Florence, shrinking down upon the ground, wept long and bitterly.
But true of heart and resolute in her good purpose, Florence held to it as her dying mother held by her upon the day that gave Paul life. He did not know how much she loved him. However long the time in coming, and however slow the interval, she must try to bring that knowledge to her father's heart one day or other. Meantime she must be careful in no thoughtless word, or look, or burst of feeling awakened by any chance circumstance, to complain against him, or to give occasion for these whispers to his prejudice.
Even in the response she made the orphan child, to whom she was attracted strongly, and whom she had such occasion to remember, Florence was mindful of him' If she singled her out too plainly (Florence thought) from among the rest, she would confirm - in one mind certainly: perhaps in more - the belief that he was cruel and unnatural. Her own delight was no set-off to this, 'What she had overheard was a reason, not for soothing herself, but for saving him; and Florence did it, in pursuance of the study of her heart.
She did so always. If a book were read aloud, and there were anything in the story that pointed at an unkind father, she was in pain for their application of it to him; not for herself. So with any trifle of an interlude that was acted, or picture that was shown, or game that was played, among them. The occasions for such tenderness towards him were so many, that her mind misgave her often, it would indeed be better to go back to the old house, and live again within the shadow of its dull walls, undisturbed. How few who saw sweet Florence, in her spring of womanhood, the modest little queen of those small revels, imagined what a load of sacred care lay heavy in her breast! How few of those who stiffened in her father's freezing atmosphere, suspected what a heap of fiery coals was piled upon his head!
Florence pursued her study patiently, and, failing to acquire the secret of the nameless grace she sought, among the youthful company who were assembled in the house, often walked out alone, in the early morning, among the children of the poor. But still she found them all too far advanced to learn from. They had won their household places long ago, and did not stand without, as she did, with a bar across the door.
There was one man whom she several times observed at work very early, and often with a girl of about her own age seated near him' He was a very poor man, who seemed to have no regular employment, but now went roaming about the banks of the river when the tide was low, looking out for bits and scraps in the mud; and now worked at the unpromising little patch of garden-ground before his cottage; and now tinkered up a miserable old boat that belonged to him; or did some job of that kind for a neighbour, as chance occurred. Whatever the man's labour, the girl was never employed; but sat, when she was with him, in a listless, moping state, and idle.
Florence had often wished to speak to this man; yet she had never taken courage to do so, as he made no movement towards her. But one morning when she happened to come upon him suddenly, from a by-path among some pollard willows which terminated in the little shelving piece of stony ground that lay between his dwelling and the water, where he was bending over a fire he had made to caulk the old boat which was lying bottom upwards, close by, he raised his head at the sound of her footstep, and gave her Good morning.
'Good morning,' said Florence, approaching nearer, 'you are at work early.'
'I'd be glad to be often at work earlier, Miss, if I had work to do.'
'Is it so hard to get?' asked Florence.
'I find it so,' replied the man.
Florence glanced to where the girl was sitting, drawn together, with her elbows on her knees, and her chin on her hands, and said:
'Is that your daughter?'
He raised his head quickly, and looking towards the girl with a brightened face, nodded to her, and said 'Yes,' Florence looked towards her too, and gave her a kind salutation; the girl muttered something in return, ungraciously and sullenly.
'Is she in want of employment also?' said Florence.
The man shook his head. 'No, Miss,' he said. 'I work for both,'
'Are there only you two, then?' inquired Florence.
'Only us two,' said the man. 'Her mother his been dead these ten year. Martha!' lifted up his head again, and whistled to her) 'won't you say a word to the pretty young lady?'
The girl made an impatient gesture with her cowering shoulders, and turned her head another way. Ugly, misshapen, peevish, ill-conditioned, ragged, dirty - but beloved! Oh yes! Florence had seen her father's look towards her, and she knew whose look it had no likeness to.
'I'm afraid she's worse this morning, my poor girl!' said the man, suspending his work, and contemplating his ill-favoured child, with a compassion that was the more tender for being rougher.
'She is ill, then!' said Florence,
The man drew a deep sigh 'I don't believe my Martha's had five short days' good health,' he answered, looking at her still, 'in as many long years'
'Ay! and more than that, John,' said a neighbour, who had come down to help him with the boat.
'More than that, you say, do you?' cried the other, pushing back his battered hat, and drawing his hand across his forehead. 'Very like. It seems a long, long time.'
'And the more the time,' pursued the neighbour, 'the more you've favoured and humoured her, John, till she's got to be a burden to herself, and everybody else'
'Not to me,' said her father, falling to his work. 'Not to me.'
Florence could feel - who better? - how truly he spoke. She drew a little closer to him, and would have been glad to touch his rugged hand, and thank him for his goodness to the miserable object that he looked upon with eyes so different from any other man's.
'Who would favour my poor girl - to call it favouring - if I didn't?' said the father.
'Ay, ay,' cried the neighbour. 'In reason, John. But you! You rob yourself to give to her. You bind yourself hand and foot on her account. You make your life miserable along of her. And what does she care! You don't believe she knows it?'
The father lifted up his head again, and whistled to her. Martha made the same impatient gesture with her crouching shoulders, in reply; and he was glad and happy.
'Only for that, Miss,' said the neighbour, with a smile, in which there was more of secret sympathy than he expressed; 'only to get that, he never lets her out of his sight!'
'Because the day'll come, and has been coming a long while,' observed the other, bending low over his work, 'when to get half as much from that unfort'nate child of mine - to get the trembling of a finger, or the waving of a hair - would be to raise the dead.'
Florence softly put some money near his hand on the old boat, and left him.
And now Florence began to think, if she were to fall ill, if she were to fade like her dear brother, would he then know that she had loved him; would she then grow dear to him; would he come to her bedside, when she was weak and dim of sight, and take her into his embrace, and cancel all the past? Would he so forgive her, in that changed condition, for not having been able to lay open her childish heart to him, as to make it easy to relate with what emotions she had gone out of his room that night; what she had meant to say if she had had the courage; and how she had endeavoured, afterwards, to learn the way she never knew in infancy?
Yes, she thought if she were dying, he would relent. She thought, that if she lay, serene and not unwilling to depart, upon the bed that was curtained round with recollections of their darling boy, he would be touched home, and would say, 'Dear Florence, live for me, and we will love each other as we might have done, and be as happy as we might have been these many years!' She thought that if she heard such words from him, and had her arms clasped round him' she could answer with a smile, 'It is too late for anything but this; I never could be happier, dear father!' and so leave him, with a blessing on her lips.
The golden water she remembered on the wall, appeared to Florence, in the light of such reflections, only as a current flowing on to rest, and to a region where the dear ones, gone before, were waiting, hand in hand; and often when she looked upon the darker river rippling at her feet, she thought with awful wonder, but not terror, of that river which her brother had so often said was bearing him away.
The father and his sick daughter were yet fresh in Florence's mind, and, indeed, that incident was not a week old, when Sir Barnet and his lady going out walking in the lanes one afternoon, proposed to her to bear them company. Florence readily consenting, Lady Skettles ordered out young Barnet as a matter of course. For nothing delighted Lady Skettles so much, as beholding her eldest son with Florence on his arm.
Barnet, to say the truth, appeared to entertain an opposite sentiment on the subject, and on such occasions frequently expressed himself audibly, though indefinitely, in reference to 'a parcel of girls.' As it was not easy to ruffle her sweet temper, however, Florence generally reconciled the young gentleman to his fate after a few minutes, and they strolled on amicably: Lady Skettles and Sir Barnet following, in a state of perfect complacency and high gratification.
This was the order of procedure on the afternoon in question; and Florence had almost succeeded in overruling the present objections of Skettles Junior to his destiny, when a gentleman on horseback came riding by, looked at them earnestly as he passed, drew in his rein, wheeled round, and came riding back again, hat in hand.
The gentleman had looked particularly at Florence; and when the little party stopped, on his riding back, he bowed to her, before saluting Sir Barnet and his lady. Florence had no remembrance of having ever seen him, but she started involuntarily when he came near her, and drew back.
'My horse is perfectly quiet, I assure you,' said the gentleman.
It was not that, but something in the gentleman himself - Florence could not have said what - that made her recoil as if she had been stung.
'I have the honour to address Miss Dombey, I believe?' said the gentleman, with a most persuasive smile. On Florence inclining her head, he added, 'My name is Carker. I can hardly hope to be remembered by Miss Dombey, except by name. Carker.'
Florence, sensible of a strange inclination to shiver, though the day was hot, presented him to her host and hostess; by whom he was very graciously received.
'I beg pardon,' said Mr Carker, 'a thousand times! But I am going down tomorrow morning to Mr Dombey, at Leamington, and if Miss Dombey can entrust me with any commission, need I say how very happy I shall be?'
Sir Barnet immediately divining that Florence would desire to write a letter to her father, proposed to return, and besought Mr Carker to come home and dine in his riding gear. Mr Carker had the misfortune to be engaged to dinner, but if Miss Dombey wished to write, nothing would delight him more than to accompany them back, and to be her faithful slave in waiting as long as she pleased. As he said this with his widest smile, and bent down close to her to pat his horse's neck, Florence meeting his eyes, saw, rather than heard him say, 'There is no news of the ship!'
Confused, frightened, shrinking from him, and not even sure that he had said those words, for he seemed to have shown them to her in some extraordinary manner through his smile, instead of uttering them, Florence faintly said that she was obliged to him, but she would not write; she had nothing to say.
'Nothing to send, Miss Dombey?' said the man of teeth.
'Nothing,' said Florence, 'but my - but my dear love- if you please.'
Disturbed as Florence was, she raised her eyes to his face with an imploring and expressive look, that plainly besought him, if he knew - which he as plainly did - that any message between her and her father was an uncommon charge, but that one most of all, to spare her. Mr Carker smiled and bowed low, and being charged by Sir Barnet with the best compliments of himself and Lady Skettles, took his leave, and rode away: leaving a favourable impression on that worthy couple. Florence was seized with such a shudder as he went, that Sir Barnet, adopting the popular superstition, supposed somebody was passing over her grave. Mr Carker turning a corner, on the instant, looked back, and bowed, and disappeared, as if he rode off to the churchyard straight, to do it.
巴尼特爵士和斯克特尔斯夫人是很善良的人们，居住在泰晤士河畔富勒姆的一座精致的别墅中；在举行划船竞赛的时候，这是世界上最令人羡慕的住宅之一，但在其他时候它却也有一些麻烦的小事，其中可以提到的是，河水偶尔会流进客厅，并会把草坪的灌木暂时淹没。
巴尼特爵士主要是通过一个老式的金制鼻烟壶和一块笨大的绸手绢来显示他本人的重要身份；他用庄严的神态把这块手绢从衣袋中像一面旗子一般抽出来，同时用两只手使用它。巴尼特爵士生活的目的是不断扩大交游的范围。这是合乎事物的本性的：巴尼特爵士就像一个沉重的物体掉进水里一样——我们决不是想用这个比方来贬低这样一位德高望重的绅士——，必须在他的周围展开愈来愈大的圈子，直到没有什么地方可以再扩展为止。或者他像空气中的声音一样，根据一位机智的现代的哲学家的猜测，它的振动可以通过无止境的空间接连不断地进行下去；除非寿终正寝，没有任何其他事物能阻止巴尼特•斯克特尔斯爵士通过社会制度来寻找新朋友的行程。
巴尼特爵士感到自豪的是，他能使人们与人们相互认识。他喜欢做这种事是由于这种事情本身的原因，而这同时又促进了他所喜爱的目的。举个例子来说，如果巴尼特先生有幸找到了一个生手或是一位乡下的绅士，并千方百计把他请到他好客的别墅中的话，那么，巴尼特爵士就会在他到达的当天早上对他说，“唔，我亲爱的先生，您想要认识什么人吗？您希望跟谁会晤？您是不是对作家、画家、雕刻家、演员或者这一类的人物有兴趣？”这位落到他手里的人可能会答复说是的，并点了某个人的名字；虽然巴尼特爵士对这个人并不比对托勒密大帝①更认识，但是巴尼特爵士却会回答说，世界上没有什么比这更容易的事了，因为他跟他很熟悉；于是他立即就去拜访上面所提到的那个人，留下名片，写了一张短笺：“我尊敬的先生，——久仰您崇高的地位——住在我家的朋友——斯克特尔斯夫人和我本人也和他一起——相信天才是超越于虚礼客套之上的，因此自然地渴望您将赐予我们无上光荣，满足我们谒见尊容的要求”等等，等等，就这样用一块石头同时打死两只鸟。
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①托勒密大帝（PtolemytheGneat，公元前367A366或364—283A282年）：埃及马其顿国王。
弗洛伦斯前来访问的第二天早上，巴尼特•斯克特尔斯充分动用了鼻烟壶和旗子，向她提出了他通常所提的问题。当弗洛伦斯谢谢他，说她并不特别想要见什么人的时候，她自然怀着悲痛想到了可怜的、下落不明的沃尔特。巴尼特•斯克特尔斯爵士又提出他的好意的建议，说，“我亲爱的董贝小姐，您相信您就记不起您的好爸爸可能希望您去认识的一个人了吗？——我请求您在写信时向他转达我本人和斯克特尔斯夫人最亲切的问候”，这时候，也许是很自然的，当她轻声地作了否定的答复时，她那可怜的头向下稍稍低垂，她的声音是颤抖的。
小斯克特尔斯佩带着浆得笔挺的领带，情绪庄重沉着，在这段放假的日子里待在家中；由于他的卓越非凡的母亲殷切地希望他必须对弗洛伦斯殷勤关切，他似乎感到十分烦恼。小巴尼特心灵受到折磨的另一个和更深的伤害是跟布林伯博士和夫人在一起；他们被邀请前来访问，并住在他父亲的房屋中。这位年轻的先生不时说，他真巴不得他们最好到耶里哥①去度假。
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①耶里哥（Jericho）：死海以北的古城。
“您能建议去访问什么人吗，布林伯博士？”巴尼特•斯克特尔斯爵士向那位先生问道。
“谢谢您的好意，巴尼特爵士，”布林伯博士回答道，“我确实不知道特别想见谁。总的来说，我是喜欢认识我的同胞的，巴尼特爵士。泰伦斯说过什么？所有儿子的父、母亲都使我感到兴趣。”
“布林伯夫人是不是希望认识什么杰出的人物？”巴尼特爵士彬彬有礼地问道。
布林伯夫人眉开眼笑地把天蓝色的帽子挥了一挥，回答说，如果巴尼特爵士能把她介绍给西塞罗认识，她可真想要劳驾他一下；但是这是不可能办到的，她又早已领受了他本人和他的和蔼可亲的夫人的友情，而且她和她的博士丈夫在教育他们的亲爱的儿子上又得到了他们共同的信任——这时可以看到小巴尼特皱一皱鼻子——，因此，她就不再要求别的了。
在这样的情况下，巴尼特爵士只好暂且满足于和聚集起来的朋友们待在一起。弗洛伦斯对这感到高兴，因为她在他们当中要进行一项研究，她的心是太关切它了，它对她来说是太宝贵太重要了，所以她不能再去关心其他什么事情。
有几个孩子住在这个屋子里。这些孩子们跟他们的父母在一起的时候，真挚坦率，快快活活，就跟她家对面那些脸色红润的女孩子们一样。这些孩子们毫不抑制他们的爱，而是随心随意地把它表露出来。弗洛伦斯想要探索他们的秘密，想要找出她所缺少的是什么；他们懂得什么简单的技巧而她却不懂；她怎样从他们那里吸取智慧，去向她的父亲表示她爱他，并重新赢得他的爱。
弗洛伦斯好多天若有所思地观察着这些孩子。好多个晴朗的早晨，当灿烂的太阳升起的时候，屋子中还没有任何人起身，她就离开了床，在河边来回散步，仰望着他们的窗子，想着他们正在熟睡之中，受到父母细心的照料和亲切的关怀。这时候弗洛伦斯感到比独自一人住在自己家宏伟的宅第中更为孤独；有时她觉得在家里反比在这里更好，把自己隐藏起来比混杂在和她年龄相仿的其他孩子们中间，看到她和他们很不一样的时候，心中能够得到更大的安宁。虽然这本难念的书每翻过小小的一页都使她心中产生剧烈的痛苦，但是弗洛伦斯还是全神贯注地进行着研究；她留在他们中间，耐心地怀着希望，设法得到她渴望得到的知识。
唉！怎样才能得到它呢？怎样才能在那能获得父亲喜爱的魅力刚刚产生的时候就知道它呢？这里有些做女儿的，早上从床上起来，晚上躺下休息，早已掌握了父亲的心。她们不需要克服父亲对她们的嫌恶，不需要畏惧父亲对她们的冷淡，不需要抚平父亲对她们的皱眉。当早晨来临，窗子一个一个地打开，花草上的露珠开始干枯，年轻的脚开始在草坪上走动的时候，弗洛伦斯望着这些喜气洋洋的脸孔，心想她能从这些女孩子们身上学到什么呢？向她们学习已经太晚了。每个女孩子都能毫无畏惧地走近父亲身边，凑上嘴唇迎接那喜悦的亲吻，伸出胳膊搂住那低下来抚爱她的脖子。她不能这样大胆地开始。啊，她研究得愈来愈深，希望就显得愈来愈少，这是可能的吗？
她清楚地记得，当她还是个小女孩的时候，甚至连那个曾经拐骗过她的老太婆——她的形象，她的住所，她所说所做的一切，都以童年时期恐怖印象所具有的那种经久不灭的鲜明性，深深地印刻在她的记忆中——，也曾怀着亲切的感情谈到她的女儿，甚至连她也由于和她的孩子绝望地分离而十分可怕地痛苦哭泣。可是当弗洛伦斯回想到这一点的时候，她又会这样想：她自己的母亲也曾经热爱过她。于是，有时当她的思想迅速地返回到她和父亲之间空旷的深渊时，她在面前呈现出一幅图景：她的母亲还活着，也不喜欢起她来了，因为她缺乏那种自然一定会获得父亲欢心的还不知道的魅力（她打从躺在摇篮里的时候起直到现在，从来不曾获得过父亲的这种欢心），这时候弗洛伦斯的身子会颤抖，眼泪会流到脸上。她知道，这样的臆想对不起对她的母亲的回忆，一点也不真实，也没有一点根据，可是她是多么处心积虑地想要证明父亲是正确的，并把一切过失都归到她自己身上，因此她不能抗拒这个念头像雷雨时的乌云一样地掠过她的心头。
弗洛伦斯来后不久，又来了其他一些客人；其中有一位漂亮的女孩，比她小三、四岁，是个孤儿，由她的姑妈陪伴；这位姑妈是一位头发斑白的夫人，她跟弗洛伦斯谈了不少的话，还非常喜欢（不过，他们全都喜欢）听她在晚上唱歌，那时候她常常怀着母亲般的关心，坐在她的身旁。在一个温暖的上午，她们到这屋子里来刚只两天，弗洛伦斯坐在花园里的一个小藤架中，通过挡在中间的一些树枝，沉思地观看着草地上的一群孩子，同时在编织一个花冠，这是准备给这些孩子当中的一个小家伙戴的，他是大家最喜爱的宝贝和逗乐的对象。这时候，她听到这位夫人和她的侄女在附近一个被树荫遮蔽住的偏僻角落里走来走去时谈到了她。
“姑妈，弗洛伦斯是不是跟我一样，也是个孤儿？”女孩子问道。
“不是，我亲爱的。她没有妈妈，但是爸爸还活着。”
“她现在是不是给她的妈妈服丧？”女孩子很快地问道。
“不是，她是给她唯一的弟弟服丧。”
“她就没有别的兄弟了吗？”
“没有。”
“也没有姐妹吗？”
“没有。”
“我真为她感到非常、非常难过。”
弗洛伦斯原先在听到她的名字时，本已经站起身来，搜集花朵，准备走去迎接她们，好让她们知道她就在可以听到她们讲话的近处，可是由于在这之后不久，她们停住观看小船，不再说话，所以弗洛伦斯又坐下来编织，以为不会再听到什么了；然而片刻之后，谈话又重新开始了。
“这里人人都喜欢弗洛伦斯，当然，她也值得大家喜欢，”
女孩子热情地说道。“她的爸爸在哪里？”
姑妈沉默了片刻之后，回答说，她不知道。她的声调引起了弗洛伦斯的注意，她本来又已经从座位上站起来，这时它使她固定在原地不动；她急忙把花冠紧贴在胸上，两手抱住花朵，以免它们散落到地上。
“他是在英国吗，姑妈？”女孩子问道。
“我想是的，不错，他是在英国，一点不错。”
“他到这里来过吗？”
“不，我想他不曾来过。”
“他是不是将要到这里来看她？”
“我想他不会来。”
“他是不是脚跛了，眼瞎了还是生病了，姑妈？”女孩子问道。
当弗洛伦斯听到这些这样惊奇地说出的话语时，她紧贴在胸膛的花朵开始掉落。她把它们贴得更紧，她的脸向着它们低垂下来。
“凯特，”那位夫人又沉默了片刻之后，说道，“我将把有关弗洛伦斯的全部真情告诉你，这是我所听到的和相信的。不要告诉别人，我亲爱的，因为这里可能很少有人知道这，你要是告诉了别人，就会使她痛苦。”
“我决不会告诉别人！”女孩子喊道。
“我知道你决不会，”那位夫人回答道，“我相信你就像相信我自己一样。那么我就告诉你吧，凯特；我担心弗洛伦斯的父亲很少关心她，很少看到她；他从来没有对她表示过温存，现在差不多完全躲开她，避免跟她见面。如果他允许的话，那么她会深深地爱他，可是他却不想这么做，虽然她一点儿过错也没有；所有善良的心都会深切地爱她，可怜她。”
弗洛伦斯抱着的花朵，又有好些散落到地上，那些留下来的已经湿了，并不是由于露水；她的脸低垂到抱着这些花朵的手上。
“可怜的弗洛伦斯！亲爱的善良的弗洛伦斯！”女孩子喊道。
“你知道我为什么把这告诉你吗，凯特？”那夫人问道。
“这样我可以很亲切地对待她，极力设法使她高兴。是不是这个缘故，姑妈？”
“那是一部分原因，”那夫人说道，“并不是全部。虽然我们看到她快快活活，对每个人都和颜悦色地露出笑容，非常乐意为我们所有的人效劳，并参加这里的一切娱乐，可是她却很难是幸福的；你想她能幸福吗，凯特？”
“我觉得她不能。”小女孩说道。
“你也就可以理解，”那夫人继续说道，“当她看到那些有爸爸妈妈的孩子们，爸爸妈妈喜欢他们，为他们感到自豪——就像现在这里的许多人一样——，这时候她的内心为什么会感到痛苦？”
“是的，亲爱的姑妈，”女孩子说道，“我完全理解。可怜的弗洛伦斯！”
又有一些花朵落到地上，那些她还抱在胸口的花朵颤抖着，仿佛冬风正把它们吹得发出了飒飒的响声。
“我的凯特，”那夫人说道；她的声音是严肃的，但却平静和亲切，从听到她讲话的第一秒钟起，就在弗洛伦斯心上产生了强烈的印象；“在这里所有的孩子们中间，你是她天然最适宜的、不会对她有任何恶意的朋友；你不会在无意之中，就像那些比你更幸福的孩子们会那么做的——”
“没有比我更幸福的人啦，姑妈！”女孩子说道，她似乎紧贴着她的姑妈。
“亲爱的凯特，你不会像其他孩子那样向她提醒她的不幸。所以，当你设法跟她做朋友的时候，我愿意你，竭尽你的一切努力，记住你被夺去了双亲——谢谢上帝！那时候你还不知道它那沉重的分量——，这使你有权利接近弗洛伦斯，享有她的友谊。”
“可是，姑妈，我跟你在一起的时候，并没有失去父母亲般的慈爱，我从来也没有失去过。”
“不管情况怎么样，我亲爱的，”那夫人回答道，“你的不幸要比弗洛伦斯轻一些；因为在这广阔的世界上，没有一个孤儿能比一个被活着的父亲抛弃不爱更加冷落可怜的了。”
花朵像尘埃一般纷纷散落在地上，空着的双手蒙住脸孔，成为孤儿的弗洛伦斯缩成一团，倒在地上，长久地、痛苦地哭泣着。
但是弗洛伦斯怀着忠诚的心和坚决的善良的目的，紧紧地抱住这个目的不放，就像她垂死的母亲在生下保罗的那一天紧紧抱住她不放一样。他不知道她多么热烈地爱着他。不管她要等待多么长久，不管时间过得多么缓慢，她迟早总有一天要让父亲的心知道这一点，在这段时间中，她必须注意不要用未经考虑的语言、眼光或由于任何偶然的情况所引起的感情冲动去抱怨他，或者给那些损害他的流言蜚语提供口实。
弗洛伦斯对那个孤儿产生了强烈的兴趣，也很有理由记得她，可是甚至在回答她的情谊时，弗洛伦斯心中也记着父亲。如果在所有的孩子中，她对她表示了太突出的感情（弗洛伦斯这么想），她就无疑会在一个人的心中，也许还会在更多人的心中加强这样的信念：他是残酷的，不近人情的。她把她自己的快乐完全置之度外。她暗中听到的谈话只能成为保全他，而不是成为抚慰她自己的理由。弗洛伦斯在心中进行着探索的时候，就是这样做的。
她经常这样做。如果他们在朗诵一本书，书中提到一位冷酷的父亲的话，那么她感到痛苦的是害怕他们这样朗诵是在暗指他，而不是为了她自己；当他们演出一个在幕间插入的戏剧的时候，或展示一幅图画的时候，或做一个游戏的时候，也有这样的情形。为他担惊受怕的这一类事情很多，因此她不时踌躇，是不是回到老家去，重新平静地生活在它那沉闷无趣的墙壁的阴影下，反而更好。人们看到，温柔可爱的弗洛伦斯正处在豆蔻年华，她是这些孩子联欢会上的谦逊的小皇后；在他们中间，很少有人会想象到，一副多么神圣的忧虑的担子正沉重地压在她的胸间！那些在她父亲的冷冰冰的气氛中拘谨不安的人们中间，很少有人会料想到，在他的头上正堆积着像煤火般炽热的感情！
弗洛伦斯耐心地进行着探索。由于她在聚集在这座房屋中的年轻伴侣中间没能求得她所寻找的那难以名状的魅力的秘密，她就常常在清晨单独走出到那些穷人的孩子们中间去。可是她在这里也还是发现他们在她前面走得太远了，她不能从他们那里学到什么。他们好久以前就已在家庭中取得了他们的地位，不是像她那样站在被闩上的门外。
她好几次注意到有一位男子很早就起来干活。有一位年龄和她差不多的女孩子时常坐在他的近旁。他是一个很穷苦的人，似乎没有固定的职业；有时在退潮以后在河岸上走来走去，在淤泥中寻找什么碎片和废物；有时在他茅舍前可怜的一小块园地上耕种；有时修补他的一条小而破烂的旧船；或者碰上机会，就给邻居干这样一类的活儿。不管这男子干什么活，女孩子从来不帮着干，而是耷拉着脸，没精打采地、无所事事地坐在他的身边。
弗洛伦斯时常想跟这人谈话，可是她从来没有鼓起勇气来这样做，因为他从来没有朝向她。但是有一天早上，当她从一些截去树稍的柳树中间的一条小路出来，走到他的住屋和河流中间的一小块渐次倾斜、石子很多的地中的时候，她突然间遇见了他；他在那里向着一个火堆弯下身子；那条老旧的小船底朝天地躺在近旁，那个火堆是生起来给这条小船堵缝眼用的；他听到她的脚步声，就抬起头来，向她问候早安。
“早上好，”弗洛伦斯向前走近一些，说道，“您这么早就起来干活了。”
“如果我有活干的话，小姐，我会高兴时常更早起来干活的。”
“很难找到活干吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“•我觉得难找，”那人回答道。
弗洛伦斯向女孩子坐的地方看了一眼，她缩成一团，胳膊肘支在膝盖上，两手托着下巴。弗洛伦斯问道：
“她是您的女儿吗？”
他迅速地抬起头来，脸上露出笑容，望着女孩子，向她点点头，说，“是的。”弗洛伦斯也望着她，向她亲切地致意。
女孩子没有礼貌地、不高兴地咕哝了几句，作为回答。
“她也找不到活干吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
那人摇摇头。“不，小姐，”他说，“我为两个人干活。”
“这么说，你们就只两个人吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“就只我们两个，”那人说道，“她的妈妈已经死去十年了。马撒！”他又抬起头来，向她吹了个口哨。“你不想跟这位漂亮的小姐讲句话吗？”
女孩子缩缩肩膀，做了个不耐烦的姿态，把头朝向另一边。她面貌丑陋，身体畸形，脾气暴躁，家境贫困，衣衫褴褛，肮肮脏脏，但是却被爱着！啊，是的！弗洛伦斯从她父亲望着她的眼光中看到了这一点，她知道谁的眼光与这毫不相同。
“我可怜的女孩子！我担心她今天早上更不好了，”那男子停止工作，说道，一边怀着怜悯，望着他那外貌不扬的女儿；他的怜悯的方式不是很细致的，但却因而更为亲切动人。
“这么说，她是病了？”弗洛伦斯说。
那人深深地叹了一口气。“在这长长的五年当中，”他依旧望着她，回答道，“我想，我的马撒就连短短五天的健康日子也没有过。”
“唉，还不止五年呢，约翰，”前来帮助他修船的一位邻居说。
“您认为还不止五年吗？”另一位把他那顶戴旧了的帽子推向后面，用手摸摸前额，喊道，“很可能。好像是很久、很久的时间了。”
“约翰，”邻居继续说道，“时间愈久，您就愈宠爱她，愈迁就她，直到她已成了她自己和其他所有人的累赘了。”
“对我来说，她没有成为累赘，”她的父亲重新干起活来，说道，“对我来说她没有。”
弗洛伦斯感到——谁还能比她更能感到这一点呢？——他说得十分真实。她向前更走近一些，真想能高兴地摸一下他那起茧的手，谢谢他对那可怜的人儿所怀的慈肠善心；他望着她的眼光跟别人的是多么不同呵。
“就算这是宠爱吧，如果•我不宠爱她，谁还会宠爱我这可怜的女孩子呢？”那父亲说道。
“是的，这话说得不错，”邻居大声说道，“不过，约翰，凡事总得合情合理，有个分寸才好。而您呢！您牺牲了自己的一切，全都给了她。您为了她把自己的手脚全都给束缚起来了。您为了她过着牛马一般的生活，而•她心里想着的是什么呢！您以为她能体会到这一点吗？”
父亲又抬起头来，向她吹口哨；马撒又跟先前一样，缩缩肩膀，做了个不耐烦的姿态，作为回答；他却感到高兴和满意。
“只是为了这，小姐，”邻居微笑着说道；在他的笑容中包含着内心的同情，比他表露出来的还多，“只是为了看到这，他就永远不让她离开他！”
“因为这一天将会来到，它离现在已经不远了，”另一位低低地弯下身去干活，说道，“那时候甚至看一看我那不幸的孩子，看一看她的指头怎么颤抖，或者她的头发怎么飘动，都会使死者复活的。”
弗洛伦斯在那只旧船上挨近他手边的地方悄悄地放了一些钱，然后离开了他。
这时弗洛伦斯开始想，如果她像她弟弟那样生了病，消瘦下去，那时候她父亲会知道她曾经爱过他吗？那时候他会觉得她比现在亲爱一些吗？当她虚弱无力、视力模糊的时候，他会来到她的床边，把她抱入怀中，把过去的一切全都一笔勾销吗？在改变了的情况下，他会原谅她没能向他敞开她孩子的心怀吗？他能原谅她，使她能毫不困难地告诉他，她那天夜里是怀着什么样的心情走出他的房间的，告诉他，如果她有勇气的话，那么她曾经想做什么，告诉他，她后来怎样努力学习她在婴儿时代从来不知道的方法的吗？
是的，她想，如果她快要死了，那么他会变得宽厚起来的。她想，如果她安详地躺在挂着帐子的床上，毫无难色地等待着死神来临，使他们回忆起他们那亲爱的小男孩的话，那么他将会被刺痛了心，对她说，“亲爱的弗洛伦斯，为了我而活着吧，我们将彼此相爱，这些年来我们本可以这样相爱的；我们将会幸福，这些年来我们本可以这样幸福的！”她想，如果她听到这些话，她的胳膊搂抱着他的话，那么她会微笑着回答说，“一切都已经太晚了！但有一点：我从来没有像现在这样幸福过，亲爱的爸爸！”然后在嘴唇上带着她的祝福离开了他。
由于这样一些思索的结果，弗洛伦斯所记得的墙上的金黄色的水，对她来说，只不过像是流向安息的水流，它流向一个地方，比她早去的亲人们正在那里手挽手地等待着她；有好多次，当她望着脚边潺潺流过的黑漆漆的河流时，她就怀着非常的惊奇，而不是恐怖，想起了那条她弟弟曾经时常说是把他漂走的河流。
弗洛伦斯和那位父亲和他生病的女儿相遇之后不到一个星期，她对他们还记忆犹新的时候，有一天下午，巴尼特爵士和他的夫人出外到乡间的小路上散步，他们建议弗洛伦斯陪他们一道走走。弗洛伦斯欣然同意，斯克特尔斯夫人自然就命令小巴尼特一道出去。因为斯克特尔斯夫人看到她的大儿子挽着弗洛伦斯的胳膊是再也高兴不过的了。
说实在的，小巴尼特在这种事情上的思想感情看来跟他母亲完全相反；在这种场合他时常把他的情绪大声地表露出来，虽然是含糊其词地嘟囔着什么“一群毛丫头”。可是要使弗洛伦斯温柔的性情生气是不容易的，所以她一般经过几分钟之后就能使那位年轻的先生安心于自己的命运；他们和睦地向前游逛，斯克特尔斯夫人和巴尼特爵士则洋洋得意、十分高兴地跟在后面。
就在这一天的下午，正当他们这样向前走着，弗洛伦斯几乎就要平息小斯克特尔斯的怨言，使他听从命运摆布的时候，一位骑马的先生经过他们身旁时，注意地看着他们，然后勒住马，掉转马头，手里握着帽子，重新向他们骑回来。
这位先生特别注意地看着弗洛伦斯；当这一小群人站住看着他骑回来的时候，他先向她鞠躬，然后才向巴尼特爵士和他的夫人行礼致敬。弗洛伦斯记不得过去曾经看见过他，但是当他向她骑近的时候，她不由自主地感到吃惊并向后退缩。
“请放心，我的马是十分驯服的，”那位先生说道。
可是并不是马，而是那位先生身上的什么东西——弗洛伦斯说不出那是什么——，使得她像被刺痛似地畏缩。
“我想我有荣幸向董贝小姐致意吧？”那位先生露出极为奉承取悦的笑容，说道。当弗洛伦斯把头低下的时候，他继续说道，“我姓卡克。我想除了我的姓卡克之外，董贝小姐不会记得我了。”
虽然天气炎热，弗洛伦斯却奇怪地感到直想打寒颤；她把他介绍给她的主人和女主人。他们十分客气地接待了他。
“一千次地请您原谅，”卡克先生说道，“不过明天早上我就去莱明顿，到董贝先生那里。如果董贝小姐有什么任务能交托给我去办理，我将会感到万分荣幸，难道这还需要我说吗？”
巴尼特爵士立即揣度弗洛伦斯要想给她父亲写信，所以建议回家去，并请求卡克先生跟他们一道去，在他家吃晚饭，不用卸去骑马的服装。不幸的是，卡克先生早已接受别人的邀请，不能再在这里吃晚饭，但是如果董贝小姐想要写信，他就再也高兴不过地陪他们回去，并充当她忠实的奴仆，随她喜欢要他等待多久就等待多久。当他露出他那最宽阔的微笑说这些话，并弯下身子靠近她，拍拍马脖子的时候，弗洛伦斯碰到了他的眼光，可以说是看到而不是听到他说，“那条船杳无音讯！”
弗洛伦斯惶惑不安，惊恐万分，从他身边往后退缩，甚至根本不能肯定他是不是说了这些话，因为他似乎是以异乎寻常的方式，通过他的微笑把这些话显示给她看，而不是说出来的。她用微弱的声音说，她谢谢他，但是她不打算写信；
她没有什么话要说的。
“不捎点东西去吗？”露出牙齿的人问道。
“不捎什么东西，”弗洛伦斯说道，“除了劳驾您转达我的——我的亲切的爱之外。”
虽然弗洛伦斯心绪烦乱，但是她还是抬起眼睛，用哀求的和意味深长的眼光望着他的脸；这眼光清楚地请求他宽恕她，如果他知道——他同样清楚地知道这一点——，她和她父亲之间相互传递口讯是一件很不寻常的事情，而像现在这样的传递口讯，那更是异乎寻常的。卡克先生微笑着，深深地鞠躬；巴尼特爵士请求他向董贝先生转达他本人和斯克特尔斯夫人衷心的问候，于是卡克先生向大家告别，骑着马离开了，在那德高望重的老两口心中留下了一个良好的印象。这时弗洛伦斯开始浑身打颤，巴尼特爵士相信当时流行的一种迷信说法，认为这时正有人走过她的坟地。卡克先生这时拐了个弯，往后看看，鞠着躬，然后消失不见了，仿佛他为了达到这个目的，正直向教堂墓地骑去。
Chapter 25
Strange News of Uncle Sol

Captain Cuttle, though no sluggard, did not turn out so early on the morning after he had seen Sol Gills, through the shop-window, writing in the parlour, with the Midshipman upon the counter, and Rob the Grinder making up his bed below it, but that the clocks struck six as he raised himself on his elbow, and took a survey of his little chamber. The Captain's eyes must have done severe duty, if he usually opened them as wide on awaking as he did that morning; and were but roughly rewarded for their vigilance, if he generally rubbed them half as hard. But the occasion was no common one, for Rob the Grinder had certainly never stood in the doorway of Captain Cuttle's room before, and in it he stood then, panting at the Captain, with a flushed and touzled air of Bed about him, that greatly heightened both his colour and expression.
'Holloa!' roared the Captain. 'What's the matter?'
Before Rob could stammer a word in answer, Captain Cuttle turned out, all in a heap, and covered the boy's mouth with his hand.
'Steady, my lad,' said the Captain, 'don't ye speak a word to me as yet!'
The Captain, looking at his visitor in great consternation, gently shouldered him into the next room, after laying this injunction upon him; and disappearing for a few moments, forthwith returned in the blue suit. Holding up his hand in token of the injunction not yet being taken off, Captain Cuttle walked up to the cupboard, and poured himself out a dram; a counterpart of which he handed to the messenger. The Captain then stood himself up in a corner, against the wall, as if to forestall the possibility of being knocked backwards by the communication that was to be made to him; and having swallowed his liquor, with his eyes fixed on the messenger, and his face as pale as his face could be, requested him to 'heave ahead.'
'Do you mean, tell you, Captain?' asked Rob, who had been greatly impressed by these precautions
'Ay!' said the Captain.
'Well, Sir,' said Rob, 'I ain't got much to tell. But look here!'
Rob produced a bundle of keys. The Captain surveyed them, remained in his corner, and surveyed the messenger.
'And look here!' pursued Rob.
The boy produced a sealed packet, which Captain Cuttle stared at as he had stared at the keys.
'When I woke this morning, Captain,' said Rob, 'which was about a quarter after five, I found these on my pillow. The shop-door was unbolted and unlocked, and Mr Gills gone.'
'Gone!' roared the Captain.
'Flowed, Sir,' returned Rob.
The Captain's voice was so tremendous, and he came out of his corner with such way on him, that Rob retreated before him into another corner: holding out the keys and packet, to prevent himself from being run down.
'"For Captain Cuttle," Sir,' cried Rob, 'is on the keys, and on the packet too. Upon my word and honour, Captain Cuttle, I don't know anything more about it. I wish I may die if I do! Here's a sitiwation for a lad that's just got a sitiwation,' cried the unfortunate Grinder, screwing his cuff into his face: 'his master bolted with his place, and him blamed for it!'
These lamentations had reference to Captain Cuttle's gaze, or rather glare, which was full of vague suspicions, threatenings, and denunciations. Taking the proffered packet from his hand, the Captain opened it and read as follows:-
'My dear Ned Cuttle. Enclosed is my will!' The Captain turned it over, with a doubtful look - 'and Testament - Where's the Testament?' said the Captain, instantly impeaching the ill-fated Grinder. 'What have you done with that, my lad?'
'I never see it,' whimpered Rob. 'Don't keep on suspecting an innocent lad, Captain. I never touched the Testament.'
Captain Cuttle shook his head, implying that somebody must be made answerable for it; and gravely proceeded:
'Which don't break open for a year, or until you have decisive intelligence of my dear Walter, who is dear to you, Ned, too, I am sure.' The Captain paused and shook his head in some emotion; then, as a re-establishment of his dignity in this trying position, looked with exceeding sternness at the Grinder. 'If you should never hear of me, or see me more, Ned, remember an old friend as he will remember you to the last - kindly; and at least until the period I have mentioned has expired, keep a home in the old place for Walter. There are no debts, the loan from Dombey's House is paid off and all my keys I send with this. Keep this quiet, and make no inquiry for me; it is useless. So no more, dear Ned, from your true friend, Solomon Gills.' The Captain took a long breath, and then read these words written below: '"The boy Rob, well recommended, as I told you, from Dombey's House. If all else should come to the hammer, take care, Ned, of the little Midshipman."'
To convey to posterity any idea of the manner in which the Captain, after turning this letter over and over, and reading it a score of times, sat down in his chair, and held a court-martial on the subject in his own mind, would require the united genius of all the great men, who, discarding their own untoward days, have determined to go down to posterity, and have never got there. At first the Captain was too much confounded and distressed to think of anything but the letter itself; and even when his thoughts began to glance upon the various attendant facts, they might, perhaps, as well have occupied themselves with their former theme, for any light they reflected on them. In this state of mind, Captain Cuttle having the Grinder before the court, and no one else, found it a great relief to decide, generally, that he was an object of suspicion: which the Captain so clearly expressed in his visage, that Rob remonstrated.
'Oh, don't, Captain!' cried the Grinder. 'I wonder how you can! what have I done to be looked at, like that?'
'My lad,' said Captain Cuttle, 'don't you sing out afore you're hurt. And don't you commit yourself, whatever you do.'
'I haven't been and committed nothing, Captain!' answered Rob.
'Keep her free, then,' said the Captain, impressively, 'and ride easy.
With a deep sense of the responsibility imposed upon him' and the necessity of thoroughly fathoming this mysterious affair as became a man in his relations with the parties, Captain Cuttle resolved to go down and examine the premises, and to keep the Grinder with him. Considering that youth as under arrest at present, the Captain was in some doubt whether it might not be expedient to handcuff him, or tie his ankles together, or attach a weight to his legs; but not being clear as to the legality of such formalities, the Captain decided merely to hold him by the shoulder all the way, and knock him down if he made any objection.
However, he made none, and consequently got to the Instrument-maker's house without being placed under any more stringent restraint. As the shutters were not yet taken down, the Captain's first care was to have the shop opened; and when the daylight was freely admitted, he proceeded, with its aid, to further investigation.
The Captain's first care was to establish himself in a chair in the shop, as President of the solemn tribunal that was sitting within him; and to require Rob to lie down in his bed under the counter, show exactly where he discovered the keys and packet when he awoke, how he found the door when he went to try it, how he started off to Brig Place - cautiously preventing the latter imitation from being carried farther than the threshold - and so on to the end of the chapter. When all this had been done several times, the Captain shook his head and seemed to think the matter had a bad look.
Next, the Captain, with some indistinct idea of finding a body, instituted a strict search over the whole house; groping in the cellars with a lighted candle, thrusting his hook behind doors, bringing his head into violent contact with beams, and covering himself with cobwebs. Mounting up to the old man's bed-room, they found that he had not been in bed on the previous night, but had merely lain down on the coverlet, as was evident from the impression yet remaining there.
'And I think, Captain,' said Rob, looking round the room, 'that when Mr Gills was going in and out so often, these last few days, he was taking little things away, piecemeal, not to attract attention.'
'Ay!' said the Captain, mysteriously. 'Why so, my lad?'
'Why,' returned Rob, looking about, 'I don't see his shaving tackle. Nor his brushes, Captain. Nor no shirts. Nor yet his shoes.'
As each of these articles was mentioned, Captain Cuttle took particular notice of the corresponding department of the Grinder, lest he should appear to have been in recent use, or should prove to be in present possession thereof. But Rob had no occasion to shave, was not brushed, and wore the clothes he had on for a long time past, beyond all possibility of a mistake.
'And what should you say,' said the Captain - 'not committing yourself - about his time of sheering off? Hey?'
'Why, I think, Captain,' returned Rob, 'that he must have gone pretty soon after I began to snore.'
'What o'clock was that?' said the Captain, prepared to be very particular about the exact time.
'How can I tell, Captain!' answered Rob. 'I only know that I'm a heavy sleeper at first, and a light one towards morning; and if Mr Gills had come through the shop near daybreak, though ever so much on tiptoe, I'm pretty sure I should have heard him shut the door at all events.
On mature consideration of this evidence, Captain Cuttle began to think that the Instrument-maker must have vanished of his own accord; to which logical conclusion he was assisted by the letter addressed to himself, which, as being undeniably in the old man's handwriting, would seem, with no great forcing, to bear the construction, that he arranged of his own will to go, and so went. The Captain had next to consider where and why? and as there was no way whatsoever that he saw to the solution of the first difficulty, he confined his meditations to the second.
Remembering the old man's curious manner, and the farewell he had taken of him; unaccountably fervent at the time, but quite intelligible now: a terrible apprehension strengthened on the Captain, that, overpowered by his anxieties and regrets for Walter, he had been driven to commit suicide. Unequal to the wear and tear of daily life, as he had often professed himself to be, and shaken as he no doubt was by the uncertainty and deferred hope he had undergone, it seemed no violently strained misgiving, but only too probable. Free from debt, and with no fear for his personal liberty, or the seizure of his goods, what else but such a state of madness could have hurried him away alone and secretly? As to his carrying some apparel with him, if he had really done so - and they were not even sure of that - he might have done so, the Captain argued, to prevent inquiry, to distract attention from his probable fate, or to ease the very mind that was now revolving all these possibilities. Such, reduced into plain language, and condensed within a small compass, was the final result and substance of Captain Cuttle's deliberations: which took a long time to arrive at this pass, and were, like some more public deliberations, very discursive and disorderly.
Dejected and despondent in the extreme, Captain Cuttle felt it just to release Rob from the arrest in which he had placed him, and to enlarge him, subject to a kind of honourable inspection which he still resolved to exercise; and having hired a man, from Brogley the Broker, to sit in the shop during their absence, the Captain, taking Rob with him, issued forth upon a dismal quest after the mortal remains of Solomon Gills.
Not a station-house, or bone-house, or work-house in the metropolis escaped a visitation from the hard glazed hat. Along the wharves, among the shipping on the bank-side, up the river, down the river, here, there, everywhere, it went gleaming where men were thickest, like the hero's helmet in an epic battle. For a whole week the Captain read of all the found and missing people in all the newspapers and handbills, and went forth on expeditions at all hours of the day to identify Solomon Gills, in poor little ship-boys who had fallen overboard, and in tall foreigners with dark beards who had taken poison - 'to make sure,' Captain Cuttle said, 'that it wam't him.' It is a sure thing that it never was, and that the good Captain had no other satisfaction.
Captain Cuttle at last abandoned these attempts as hopeless, and set himself to consider what was to be done next. After several new perusals of his poor friend's letter, he considered that the maintenance of' a home in the old place for Walter' was the primary duty imposed upon him. Therefore, the Captain's decision was, that he would keep house on the premises of Solomon Gills himself, and would go into the instrument-business, and see what came of it.
But as this step involved the relinquishment of his apartments at Mrs MacStinger's, and he knew that resolute woman would never hear of his deserting them, the Captain took the desperate determination of running away.
'Now, look ye here, my lad,' said the Captain to Rob, when he had matured this notable scheme, 'to-morrow, I shan't be found in this here roadstead till night - not till arter midnight p'rhaps. But you keep watch till you hear me knock, and the moment you do, turn-to, and open the door.'
'Very good, Captain,' said Rob.
'You'll continue to be rated on these here books,' pursued the Captain condescendingly, 'and I don't say but what you may get promotion, if you and me should pull together with a will. But the moment you hear me knock to-morrow night, whatever time it is, turn-to and show yourself smart with the door.'
'I'll be sure to do it, Captain,' replied Rob.
'Because you understand,' resumed the Captain, coming back again to enforce this charge upon his mind, 'there may be, for anything I can say, a chase; and I might be took while I was waiting, if you didn't show yourself smart with the door.'
Rob again assured the Captain that he would be prompt and wakeful; and the Captain having made this prudent arrangement, went home to Mrs MacStinger's for the last time.
The sense the Captain had of its being the last time, and of the awful purpose hidden beneath his blue waistcoat, inspired him with such a mortal dread of Mrs MacStinger, that the sound of that lady's foot downstairs at any time of the day, was sufficient to throw him into a fit of trembling. It fell out, too, that Mrs MacStinger was in a charming temper - mild and placid as a house- lamb; and Captain Cuttle's conscience suffered terrible twinges, when she came up to inquire if she could cook him nothing for his dinner.
'A nice small kidney-pudding now, Cap'en Cuttle,' said his landlady: 'or a sheep's heart. Don't mind my trouble.'
'No thank'ee, Ma'am,' returned the Captain.
'Have a roast fowl,' said Mrs MacStinger, 'with a bit of weal stuffing and some egg sauce. Come, Cap'en Cuttle! Give yourself a little treat!'
'No thank'ee, Ma'am,' returned the Captain very humbly.
'I'm sure you're out of sorts, and want to be stimulated,' said Mrs MacStinger. 'Why not have, for once in a way, a bottle of sherry wine?'
'Well, Ma'am,' rejoined the Captain, 'if you'd be so good as take a glass or two, I think I would try that. Would you do me the favour, Ma'am,' said the Captain, torn to pieces by his conscience, 'to accept a quarter's rent ahead?'
'And why so, Cap'en Cuttle?' retorted Mrs MacStinger - sharply, as the Captain thought.
The Captain was frightened to dead 'If you would Ma'am,' he said with submission, 'it would oblige me. I can't keep my money very well. It pays itself out. I should take it kind if you'd comply.'
'Well, Cap'en Cuttle,' said the unconscious MacStinger, rubbing her hands, 'you can do as you please. It's not for me, with my family, to refuse, no more than it is to ask'
'And would you, Ma'am,' said the Captain, taking down the tin canister in which he kept his cash' from the top shelf of the cupboard, 'be so good as offer eighteen-pence a-piece to the little family all round? If you could make it convenient, Ma'am, to pass the word presently for them children to come for'ard, in a body, I should be glad to see 'em'
These innocent MacStingers were so many daggers to the Captain's breast, when they appeared in a swarm, and tore at him with the confiding trustfulness he so little deserved. The eye of Alexander MacStinger, who had been his favourite, was insupportable to the Captain; the voice of Juliana MacStinger, who was the picture of her mother, made a coward of him.
Captain Cuttle kept up appearances, nevertheless, tolerably well, and for an hour or two was very hardly used and roughly handled by the young MacStingers: who in their childish frolics, did a little damage also to the glazed hat, by sitting in it, two at a time, as in a nest, and drumming on the inside of the crown with their shoes. At length the Captain sorrowfully dismissed them: taking leave of these cherubs with the poignant remorse and grief of a man who was going to execution.
In the silence of night, the Captain packed up his heavier property in a chest, which he locked, intending to leave it there, in all probability for ever, but on the forlorn chance of one day finding a man sufficiently bold and desperate to come and ask for it. Of his lighter necessaries, the Captain made a bundle; and disposed his plate about his person, ready for flight. At the hour of midnight, when Brig Place was buried in slumber, and Mrs MacStinger was lulled in sweet oblivion, with her infants around her, the guilty Captain, stealing down on tiptoe, in the dark, opened the door, closed it softly after him, and took to his heels
Pursued by the image of Mrs MacStinger springing out of bed, and, regardless of costume, following and bringing him back; pursued also by a consciousness of his enormous crime; Captain Cuttle held on at a great pace, and allowed no grass to grow under his feet, between Brig Place and the Instrument-maker's door. It opened when he knocked - for Rob was on the watch - and when it was bolted and locked behind him, Captain Cuttle felt comparatively safe.
'Whew!' cried the Captain, looking round him. 'It's a breather!'
'Nothing the matter, is there, Captain?' cried the gaping Rob.
'No, no!' said Captain Cuttle, after changing colour, and listening to a passing footstep in the street. 'But mind ye, my lad; if any lady, except either of them two as you see t'other day, ever comes and asks for Cap'en Cuttle, be sure to report no person of that name known, nor never heard of here; observe them orders, will you?'
'I'll take care, Captain,' returned Rob.
'You might say - if you liked,' hesitated the Captain, 'that you'd read in the paper that a Cap'en of that name was gone to Australia, emigrating, along with a whole ship's complement of people as had all swore never to come back no more.
Rob nodded his understanding of these instructions; and Captain Cuttle promising to make a man of him, if he obeyed orders, dismissed him, yawning, to his bed under the counter, and went aloft to the chamber of Solomon Gills.
What the Captain suffered next day, whenever a bonnet passed, or how often he darted out of the shop to elude imaginary MacStingers, and sought safety in the attic, cannot be told. But to avoid the fatigues attendant on this means of self-preservation, the Captain curtained the glass door of communication between the shop and parlour, on the inside; fitted a key to it from the bunch that had been sent to him; and cut a small hole of espial in the wall. The advantage of this fortification is obvious. On a bonnet appearing, the Captain instantly slipped into his garrison, locked himself up, and took a secret observation of the enemy. Finding it a false alarm, the Captain instantly slipped out again. And the bonnets in the street were so very numerous, and alarms were so inseparable from their appearance, that the Captain was almost incessantly slipping in and out all day long.
Captain Cuttle found time, however, in the midst of this fatiguing service to inspect the stock; in connexion with which he had the general idea (very laborious to Rob) that too much friction could not be bestowed upon it, and that it could not be made too bright. He also ticketed a few attractive-looking articles at a venture, at prices ranging from ten shillings to fifty pounds, and exposed them in the window to the great astonishment of the public.
After effecting these improvements, Captain Cuttle, surrounded by the instruments, began to feel scientific: and looked up at the stars at night, through the skylight, when he was smoking his pipe in the little back parlour before going to bed, as if he had established a kind of property in them. As a tradesman in the City, too, he began to have an interest in the Lord Mayor, and the Sheriffs, and in Public Companies; and felt bound to read the quotations of the Funds every day, though he was unable to make out, on any principle of navigation, what the figures meant, and could have very well dispensed with the fractions. Florence, the Captain waited on, with his strange news of Uncle Sol, immediately after taking possession of the Midshipman; but she was away from home. So the Captain sat himself down in his altered station of life, with no company but Rob the Grinder; and losing count of time, as men do when great changes come upon them, thought musingly of Walter, and of Solomon Gills, and even of Mrs MacStinger herself, as among the things that had been.
卡特尔船长昨天夜里曾经从店铺窗子里看到所尔•吉尔斯在客厅里写东西，海军军官候补生站在柜台上，磨工罗布在柜台下面铺床铺；他虽然并不是一个懒人，但是这一天早上他起得不是很早，直到时钟敲打了六下，他才支着胳膊肘，欠起身来，对他的小房间四处看了看；如果船长平时醒来的时候，眼睛也像这天早上张得这么大，那么它们一定是担负着严重的任务；如果他平时也像这天早上这么猛烈地揉它们，那么它们的警觉性就得到很差的酬劳了。可是现在的情况是异乎寻常的，因为磨工罗布以前从来没有在卡特尔船长卧室的门口出现过，然而现在他却站在那里，气喘吁吁地望着船长，脸孔通红，蓬头散发，好像刚刚从床上起来似的，这大大地影响了他的脸色和表情。
“喂！”船长大声喊叫道，“发生了什么事了？”
罗布张口结舌，一个字也没能答出来的时候，卡特尔船长就慌慌张张地下了床，用手捂住孩子的嘴巴。
“别急，我的孩子，”船长说道，“现在一个字也别跟我说！”
船长向他发出了这条禁令之后，十分惊恐地望着他的来访者，轻轻地推着他的肩膀，把他推到隔壁的房间里；卡特尔船长不见了一会儿之后，又穿着蓝色的服装回来。他一边举着手表示禁令还没有解除，一边走向碗柜给他自己倒了一杯酒，他又把另一杯递给前来传送消息的人。然后船长站在一个角落里，背靠着墙，仿佛是要预防自己可能被即将听到的消息惊吓得往后倒下似的；接着，他吞下了酒，眼睛一动不动地盯住传信人，脸色极度苍白地请他“收起曳索，使船前进吧！”
“船长，您的意思是不是说告诉您？”罗布问道，这些预防措施给他留下了强烈的印象。
“是的！”船长说道。
“好吧，先生，”罗布说道，“我没有好多话要说的。不过请看这里！”
罗布取出一串钥匙。船长仔细地看了看，继续站在角落里，又打量着前来传递讯息的人。
“再看这里！”罗布继续说道。
孩子取出一个封好的小包裹。卡特尔张大眼睛看着它，就跟刚才张大眼睛看着钥匙一样。
“我今天早上醒来的时候，船长，”罗布说道，“那是五点一刻光景，我在枕头上发现了这些东西。店铺的门没有闩上，也没有上锁。吉尔斯先生走了！”
“走了！”船长大声喊道。
“悄悄地走了，先生，”罗布回答道。
船长的声音非常可怕，他从角落里直冲冲地向罗布跑来，罗布就退缩到另一个角落里，递出钥匙和包包，免得被他撞倒。
“‘给卡特尔船长’，先生，”罗布喊道，“是写在钥匙上，也写在包裹上的。说实话，我敢用荣誉向您保证，卡特尔船长，我再也不知道别的了。如果我知道的话，我但愿自己就死掉。一个刚刚找到工作的小伙子想不到竟会落到这样的下场，”不幸的磨工用袖头擦着脸孔，哭道，“他的主人逃跑了，他却受到了责怪！”
这些怨言是由于卡特尔船长的注视，或者正确地说，是由于他瞪着眼睛所引起的，因为在他的眼光中充满了怀疑、威胁和责难。船长从他手中取过包裹，打开它，念着以下的字句：
“我亲爱的内德•卡特尔，这里所附的是我的一般遗嘱！”船长用怀疑的眼光把纸翻过来，“和处理财产的遗嘱——处理财产的遗嘱在哪里？”船长立即责问倒霉的磨工，“我的孩子，你把它弄到哪里去了？”
“我从来没有看见它，”罗布啜泣道，“请别怀疑一个清白无辜的孩子，船长。处理财产的遗嘱，我从来没有碰到过！”
卡特尔船长摇摇头，意味着得有人对这负责，又继续念道。
“一年之内或者在你得到我亲爱的沃尔特的确凿消息之前，请别打开它。我相信，内德，沃尔特也是你亲爱的人。”船长停了一下，激动地点点头，然后，为了在这难堪的时刻维持他的尊严，非常严厉地看着磨工，“如果你再也听不到我的消息，再也看不到我的话，那么，内德，你就记住一位老朋友吧，正像他将会亲切地记住你一样，直到生命的最后时刻；至少在我所说的期限来到之前，请在老地方为沃尔特保留一个家。我已没有债务，从董贝公司借来的钱已经还清，我所有的钥匙连同这个包包一并交给你。请不要声张，也不要打听我的下落；那样做是徒劳无益的。好了，没有别的话要说的了，内德，你的忠实的朋友，所罗门•吉尔斯。”船长深深地吸了一口气，然后再念以下的字句：“罗布这孩子，我跟你说过，董贝公司推荐得不错。内德，如果所有其余的东西都要拿去拍卖的话，那么那个小小的海军军官候补生你得好好看管着。”
船长把这封信翻来翻去，念了二十来次之后，坐到椅子里，在心中对这问题进行了一场军事审判；要把船长这时的神态描述出来，为后世所记忆，是需要一切厌弃不幸的当代、决心面向后世、但却未能如愿以偿的伟大天才人物的共同努力才能做到的。最初，船长因为过于惊慌失措和伤心苦恼，所以除了想到这封信之外，不能再想到别的事情了；甚至当他的思想开始转到各种伴随发生的事实时，他在脑子里也许还依旧盘旋着原先的主题，而很少考虑这些伴随发生的事实。卡特尔船长在这样一种心情下，只有磨工一人在他的法庭上，而没有其他任何人；当他决定把磨工作为怀疑对象来进行审判时，心中感到极大的安慰；他把他的这种想法在脸容上表露得清清楚楚，因此罗布就提出了抗议。
“啊，别这样，船长！”磨工喊道，“我真不明白，您怎么能这样！我做了什么事啦，您要这样看着我？”
“我的孩子，”卡特尔船长说道，“还没有伤害你什么，你就别吵吵嚷嚷，不论你做了什么，都别忙着表白自己！”
“我没有做什么，也没有表白什么，船长！”罗布回答道。
“那就从容自在，”船长给人以深刻印象地说道，“不必紧张。”
卡特尔船长深深感觉到自己所负的责任，也有必要把这桩神秘的事情彻底调查清楚；像他这样一个与当事人有关系的人本就应该这么做的，所以他就决定让磨工跟他在一起，深入到老人家里去考察一番。考虑到这个年轻人目前已处于被逮捕状态，船长犹豫不决，究竟把他戴上手铐，或者把他的踝骨捆绑起来，或者在他的腿上悬挂一个重物，是不是得当；但是船长不明白这样做在手续上是否合法，所以决定只是一路上抓住他的肩膀，如果他要有一点反抗，那么就把他打倒在地。
可是罗布没有任何反抗，因此对他没有施加其他严厉的紧急措施，就到达仪器制造商的家了。由于百叶窗还遮蔽着，船长首先关心的是让店铺开着；当阳光充分射进来以后，他就着手进一步的调查。
船长第一桩事是在店铺中的一张椅子里坐下，担任他心目中的庄严的法庭庭长，并要求罗布躺在柜台下面的床铺上，丝毫不差地指点出他醒来时在什么地方发现了钥匙和包包，他怎么发觉门没有闩上，他怎么出发到布里格广场——船长谨慎地禁止他在重现这最后一幕情景时跑出门槛之外——，等等。当所有这一切表演了好几次之后，船长摇摇头，似乎觉得这件事情状况不妙。
接着，船长不很肯定地想到可能找到尸体，就动手对整个住宅进行严密的搜查；他把钩子插在门后，拿着一支点着的蜡烛在地窖中摸索，这时他的头和梁木猛烈地碰撞，蜘蛛网缠绕住他的身子。他们从地窖中走上来，走进老人的卧室时，发现他昨天夜里没有上床睡觉，而仅仅在被单上面躺了一下，这从依旧留在那里的印痕中可以明显地看出。
“我想，船长，”罗布环视着房间，说道，“最近几天吉尔斯先生进进出出十分频繁，他把小件物品一件一件地拿出去，这样做是为了避免引起注意。”
“是吗！”船长神秘地说道，“为什么你这样想呢，我的孩子？”
“嗯，比方说，”罗布向四下里看着，说道，“我没有看到他刮胡子的用具，也没看到他的刷子，船长，还有他的衬衫，他的鞋子，也都没有看到。”
这些物品每提到一件，卡特尔船长就把磨工身上装束的相应部分格外注意察看了一下，想看看他是不是最近使用了它们或现在已把它们占为己有；可是罗布用不着刮胡子，头发也显然没有梳刷过，身上的衣服是他过去长期穿着的，这丝毫也不错。
“那么，——你别忙着表白自己，——”船长说，“他什么时候开航的，这你怎么说？”
“唔，我想，船长，”罗布回答道，“他一定在我开始打鼾以后很快就走了。”
“那是在几点钟？”船长问，他打算查清确切的时间。
“我怎么能回答这个问题呢？船长！”罗布答道，“我只知道，我刚入睡的时候睡得很深沉，但快到早晨的时候我是容易清醒的；如果吉尔斯先生临近天亮时穿过店铺的话，那么哪怕他是踮着脚尖走路，我也完全能肯定，我无论如何也是能听到他关门的。”
卡特尔船长对这证词进行了冷静的思考以后，开始想；仪器制造商一定是自己有意隐匿不见了；那封写给他本人的信也帮助他得出这个合乎逻辑的结论；那封信既然是老人亲笔写的，那就似乎不必牵强附会就可以解释：他自己已经打定主意要走，所以也就这样走掉了。船长接着得考虑他走到哪里去和他为什么要走。由于他看不到第一个问题有任何解决的途径，所以他就只是在第二个问题上思考。
船长回想起老人那稀奇古怪的神态和跟他告别时的情形——他当时热情得令人莫名其妙，但现在却是容易理解的了——，这时候他心中加深了一种可怕的忧虑：老人受不了对沃尔特挂念和忧愁的沉重压力，被驱使走上自杀的道路。正像他本人经常所说的，他适应不了日常生活的劳累，情况明暗不定，希望渺茫无期，又无疑使他灰心丧气，因此这样的忧虑不仅不是极不自然的，相反地却是太有可能了。
他已经没有债务，不用害怕失去个人自由或没收他的财物，除了这种精神失常的状态之外，还有什么别的原因使他孑然一身，急急忙忙地、偷偷摸摸地从家里跑出去呢？至于他如果真的带走一些物品的话——他们甚至对这一点也还不是很肯定的——，那么，船长判断，他这样做可能是为了防止对他进行调查追究，转移对他可能死亡的疑虑或者是为了使那些现在正在反复琢磨着所有这些可能性的人们放心。如果用明白的语言和简洁的形式叙述出来的话，那么卡特尔船长思考的最后结果和主要内容就是这样一些。卡特尔船长是经过很长时间的思考才得到这个结论的；就像其他一些比较公开的思考一样，它们是很散漫、很混乱的。
卡特尔船长垂头丧气、灰心失望到了极点；他曾经使罗布处于被逮捕状态，他觉得现在应当解除他的这种状态，并在对他进行体面的监督（这是他决定仍要进行的）之后，把他释放。船长从经纪人布罗格利那里雇来了一个人在他们外出期间看守店铺，然后就带着罗布一道出发，忧心忡忡地去寻找所罗门•吉尔斯的遗骸。
在这个都城中，没有一个派出所，没有一处无名尸体招领处，没有一个救贫院，那顶上了光的硬帽子不曾前去访问过。在码头上，在岸边的船的中间，在河流的上游，在河流的下游，这里，那里，每一个地点，它都像史诗描写的战役中的英雄的钢盔一般，在人群稠密的地方闪耀着亮光。船长整个星期念着所有报纸和传单中找到人和丢失人的消息，一天中的每个小时都走着远路，去把那些掉进水里的可怜的年轻的见习船员、那些服毒自杀的、长着黑胡子、身材高大的外国人仔细辨认，究竟是不是所罗门•吉尔斯。“查查确实，”卡特尔船长说，“那不是他。”这倒是千真万确，并不是他，善良的船长得不到其他安慰。
卡特尔船长终于放弃了这些毫无希望的尝试，考虑他下一步该做什么。他把他可怜的朋友的信重新细读了几次之后认为，“在老地方为沃尔特保留一个家”，这是托付给他的主要责任。因此，船长决定移居到所罗门•吉尔斯家中，经营仪器生意，看看这样做有什么结果。
但是采取这个步骤需要从麦克斯廷杰太太家的房间中搬出来，而他知道那位独断专行的女人是决不肯答应他把房间退掉的。所以他决定不顾一切，偷偷地逃走。
“我的孩子，现在你听着，”船长想好这个巧妙的计划后，对罗布说，“在明天夜间，也许还是半夜之前，在这个锚地将看不到我。但是，请你一直在这里看守着，直到你听到我敲门，那时候请你立刻跑来把门打开。”
“我一定遵命，船长，”罗布说道。
“你还跟过去一样在这里记帐，”船长平易近人地继续说道，“不用说，如果你和我配合得好，你甚至还可能得到提升。不过，明天夜间，你只要一听到我敲门，不论那是什么时候，你就得快手快脚地跑来，把门打开。”
“我一定这么做，船长，”罗布回答道。
“因为你知道，”船长解释道，他又重新回到原来的话题，想让这个指示牢牢地印刻在罗布的头脑中，“说不定后面会有人追来。如果你不快手快脚地把门打开，我在门外等待的时候就可能会被逮住。”
罗布重新向船长保证，他将会动作敏捷，清醒机警。船长作了这番谨慎周到的安排之后，最后一次回到麦克斯廷杰太太的住所。
船长知道，他是最后一次待在那里；在他蓝色的背心下面正隐藏着残酷无情的决心。这样一种感觉，使他在心中对麦克斯廷杰太太感到非常害怕；这一天不论在什么时候，只要一听到这位太太在楼下的脚步声，都可以使他直打哆嗦。再说，这天又碰巧麦克斯廷杰太太的脾气又极好，就像小羊羔一般温厚善良，心平气和；当她上楼来问她能为他准备点什么晚饭的时候，卡特尔船长的良心受到了可怕的责备。
“用腰子做个美味的小布丁怎么样，卡特尔船长？”他的房东太太问道，“要不就来个羊心。我做起来费事些，这您可不用担心。”
“不，谢谢您，夫人。”船长回答道。
“一只烤鸡，”麦克斯廷杰太太说道，“鸡肚子里再填些小牛肉和来点鸡蛋调味汁。好啦，卡特尔船长！您痛痛快快地吃一顿吧！”
“不，谢谢您，夫人，”船长很低声下气地回答道。
“我相信您的心情不好，需要提提神。”麦克斯廷杰太太说道，“为什么不偶尔喝一瓶雪利酒①呢？”
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①雪利酒（sherrywine）：西班牙南部地方产的白葡萄酒。
“好吧，夫人，”船长回答道，“如果您肯赏光也喝一、两杯，我想我可以试一试。您肯不肯给我帮个忙，夫人，”船长说道，这时他已被他的良心撕成碎片了，“接受我一个季度的预付房租？”
“为什么这样，卡特尔船长？”麦克斯廷杰太太问道，船长觉得她词锋尖锐。
船长吓得要死。“如果您肯接受的话，夫人，”他恭恭敬敬地说道，“那么你就帮了我的忙。我手头存不住钱。它们总是哗哗地流出去。如果您肯答应的话，那么我真会感谢不尽。”
“好吧，卡特尔船长，”蒙在鼓里的麦克斯廷杰太太搓着手说道，“您爱怎么办就怎么办吧，我和我的一家人不应该拒绝您，就像不应该向您提出这个要求一样。”
“您肯不肯再行个好，夫人，”船长从碗柜最上一层的搁板上取下他存放现金的锡罐，说道，“让我送给您的孩子们每人十八个便士？如果您肯行个方便，夫人，那就请立刻吩咐这些孩子们一齐都上这里来；我将很高兴看到他们。”
当这些天真烂熳的小麦克斯廷杰们蜂拥来到的时候，他们像许多短剑一样刺进了船长的胸膛；他们对他那种他受之有愧的无限信任使他的心都要碎了；他所宠爱的亚历山大•麦克斯廷杰的眼光使他难以忍受；模样长得活像母亲的朱莉安娜•麦克斯廷杰的声音使他心亏胆怯。
尽管这样，卡特尔船长把场面支撑得还不错；他在一、两个小时内受到了小麦克斯廷杰们残酷的、粗暴的折磨。这些小家伙们在儿戏中把他的上了光的帽子损坏了一点，因为他们两个一起坐在里面，就像坐在鸟窠里一样，还用鞋子像打鼓似地踩踏着帽顶的里面。最后船长伤心地打发他们回去，就像一个就要被处决死刑的人一样，怀着深沉的悔恨与悲痛和这些小天使们告别。
船长在寂静的夜间把比较重的财产装在一只箱子里，上了锁，打算把它留下，十之八九就永远留在那里了，因为以后要找一个胆大包天的人，能不顾一切地跑来把它取走，这种机会几乎是不会有的。船长把比较轻的东西打成一个包裹，并把餐具塞在衣袋里，准备逃走。午夜，当布里格广场正在酣睡，麦克斯廷杰太太身旁围躺着婴儿，正香甜甜地沉没在迷迷蒙蒙的状态之中的时候，犯罪的船长踮着脚尖，在黑暗中偷偷地下了楼，打开门，轻轻地把它关上，然后拔起脚来就跑。
卡特尔船长仿佛看到麦克斯廷杰太太从床上跳起，不顾穿衣服，就从后面赶来，把他抓回去；她的这个形象一直在紧追着他，他已犯下了弥天大罪的感觉也在紧追着他，所以从布里格广场到仪器制造商的家门之间，他一直迈开大步，飞快奔跑，脚步践踏到的地方野草就休想长出来了。他一敲门，门就开了——因为罗布正在值夜——；当把门闩上、上了锁之后，卡特尔船长才觉得自己比较安全了。
“哎呀！”船长向四周看看，喊道，“这真是叫人直喘大气的激烈运动啊！”
“出什么事了没有，船长？”目瞪口呆的罗布问道。
“没有，没有，”卡特尔船长脸色发白，听着街道上走过的脚步声之后说，“不过，我的孩子，你得记住：除了那天你看到的那两位小姐外，如果有什么女人跑来打听卡特尔船长的话，你一定要对她说，这里根本不知道有这样一个人，从来也没听说起过他。你要遵照这些命令行事，听见没有？”
“我会提防的，船长，”罗布回答道。
“你可以说——如果你愿意的话，”船长迟疑不定地说，“你在报纸上念到一则消息，有一个同姓的船长已经移居到澳大利亚去了，同去的还有整船的人，他们全都发誓再也不回来了。”
罗布点点头，表示明白这些指示；卡特尔船长答应如果他遵从这些命令的话，那么他就把他教养成一个有出息的人，然后就把直打呵欠的孩子打发到柜台下面去睡觉，他自己则上楼到所罗门•吉尔斯的房间里去。
第二天，每当一顶女帽从窗口走过的时候，船长就多么胆战心惊地害怕，或者他多少次从店铺中冲出，避开想象中的麦克斯廷杰们，到顶楼中寻求安全，这一切都是不能用笔墨形容的。但是为了避免采取这种自卫方式所产生的疲劳，船长就在店铺通接客厅之间的玻璃门里面挂上帘子，从老人交给他的一串钥匙中间取出一把套在门上，又在墙上挖了一个用来侦察的小洞。这套防御工事的好处是显而易见的。船长一看到女帽出现，就立即溜进他的堡垒，把自己锁在里面，然后偷偷地观察敌人。当发现这是一场虚惊时，船长就立即溜了出来。街上的女帽非常之多，它们每一出现又必定要引起一场惊慌，所以船长几乎整天都不断地溜进溜出。
不过在这使人疲劳不堪的紧张活动中间，卡特尔船长倒找到时间来检点存货。在检点过程中，他得到一个概念（对罗布来说，这是很累人的），就是：货品擦得愈久、愈亮就愈好。然后他在几个外表引人注目的物品上贴上标签，瞎估乱猜地标上价格，从十五先令到五十镑。他把它们陈列在橱窗中，使公众大为惊奇。
卡特尔船长完成了这些改进后，被包围在仪器中间，开始觉得自己也跟科学沾边了。夜间，当他上床睡觉之前，在小后客厅中抽着烟斗的时候，他通过天窗仰望群星，仿佛它们已成为他的财产似的。作为一个在城市里做生意的人，他开始对市长、郡长和同业公会发生了兴趣；他还觉得每天应当阅读有价证券行情表，虽然不能根据航海的原理看懂这些数字的意义；对他来说，没有那些小数也是完全可以的。卡特尔船长在占有了海军军官候补生之后，就立即带着所尔舅舅的奇怪消息前去拜访弗洛伦斯，但是她却已经离开家了。这样，船长就在他的新的生活岗位上安定下来，除了磨工罗布之外，没有别的伴侣。他就像生活中发生了极大变化的人们一样，记不清日子是怎么过去的；他默默地思念着沃尔特，思念着所罗门•吉尔斯，甚至在回顾往事时，还想到那位麦克斯廷杰太太。
Chapter 26
Shadows of the Past and Future
'Your most obedient, Sir,' said the Major. 'Damme, Sir, a friend of my friend Dombey's is a friend of mine, and I'm glad to see you!'
'I am infinitely obliged, Carker,' explained Mr Dombey, 'to Major Bagstock, for his company and conversation. 'Major Bagstock has rendered me great service, Carker.'
Mr Carker the Manager, hat in hand, just arrived at Leamington, and just introduced to the Major, showed the Major his whole double range of teeth, and trusted he might take the liberty of thanking him with all his heart for having effected so great an Improvement in Mr Dombey's looks and spirits'
'By Gad, Sir,' said the Major, in reply, 'there are no thanks due to me, for it's a give and take affair. A great creature like our friend Dombey, Sir,' said the Major, lowering his voice, but not lowering it so much as to render it inaudible to that gentleman, 'cannot help improving and exalting his friends. He strengthens and invigorates a man, Sir, does Dombey, in his moral nature.'
Mr Carker snapped at the expression. In his moral nature. Exactly. The very words he had been on the point of suggesting.
'But when my friend Dombey, Sir,' added the Major, 'talks to you of Major Bagstock, I must crave leave to set him and you right. He means plain Joe, Sir - Joey B. - Josh. Bagstock - Joseph- rough and tough Old J., Sir. At your service.'
Mr Carker's excessively friendly inclinations towards the Major, and Mr Carker's admiration of his roughness, toughness, and plainness, gleamed out of every tooth in Mr Carker's head.
'And now, Sir,' said the Major, 'you and Dombey have the devil's own amount of business to talk over.'
'By no means, Major,' observed Mr Dombey.
'Dombey,' said the Major, defiantly, 'I know better; a man of your mark - the Colossus of commerce - is not to be interrupted. Your moments are precious. We shall meet at dinner-time. In the interval, old Joseph will be scarce. The dinner-hour is a sharp seven, Mr Carker.'
With that, the Major, greatly swollen as to his face, withdrew; but immediately putting in his head at the door again, said:
'I beg your pardon. Dombey, have you any message to 'em?'
Mr Dombey in some embarrassment, and not without a glance at the courteous keeper of his business confidence, entrusted the Major with his compliments.
'By the Lord, Sir,' said the Major, 'you must make it something warmer than that, or old Joe will be far from welcome.'
'Regards then, if you will, Major,' returned Mr Dombey.
'Damme, Sir,' said the Major, shaking his shoulders and his great cheeks jocularly: 'make it something warmer than that.'
'What you please, then, Major,' observed Mr Dombey.
'Our friend is sly, Sir, sly, Sir, de-vilish sly,' said the Major, staring round the door at Carker. 'So is Bagstock.' But stopping in the midst of a chuckle, and drawing himself up to his full height, the Major solemnly exclaimed, as he struck himself on the chest, 'Dombey! I envy your feelings. God bless you!' and withdrew.
'You must have found the gentleman a great resource,' said Carker, following him with his teeth.
'Very great indeed,' said Mr Dombey.
'He has friends here, no doubt,' pursued Carker. 'I perceive, from what he has said, that you go into society here. Do you know,' smiling horribly, 'I am so very glad that you go into society!'
Mr Dombey acknowledged this display of interest on the part of his second in command, by twirling his watch-chain, and slightly moving his head.
'You were formed for society,' said Carker. 'Of all the men I know, you are the best adapted, by nature and by position, for society. Do you know I have been frequently amazed that you should have held it at arm's length so long!'
'I have had my reasons, Carker. I have been alone, and indifferent to it. But you have great social qualifications yourself, and are the more likely to have been surprised.'
'Oh! I!' returned the other, with ready self-disparagement. 'It's quite another matter in the case of a man like me. I don't come into comparison with you.'
Mr Dombey put his hand to his neckcloth, settled his chin in it, coughed, and stood looking at his faithful friend and servant for a few moments in silence.
'I shall have the pleasure, Carker,' said Mr Dombey at length: making as if he swallowed something a little too large for his throat: 'to present you to my - to the Major's friends. Highly agreeable people.'
'Ladies among them, I presume?' insinuated the smooth Manager.
'They are all - that is to say, they are both - ladies,' replied Mr Dombey.
'Only two?' smiled Carker.
'They are only two. I have confined my visits to their residence, and have made no other acquaintance here.'
'Sisters, perhaps?' quoth Carker.
'Mother and daughter,' replied Mr Dombey.
As Mr Dombey dropped his eyes, and adjusted his neckcloth again, the smiling face of Mr Carker the Manager became in a moment, and without any stage of transition, transformed into a most intent and frowning face, scanning his closely, and with an ugly sneer. As Mr Dombey raised his eyes, it changed back, no less quickly, to its old expression, and showed him every gum of which it stood possessed.
'You are very kind,' said Carker, 'I shall be delighted to know them. Speaking of daughters, I have seen Miss Dombey.'
There was a sudden rush of blood to Mr Dombey's face.
'I took the liberty of waiting on her,' said Carker, 'to inquire if she could charge me with any little commission. I am not so fortunate as to be the bearer of any but her - but her dear love.'
Wolf's face that it was then, with even the hot tongue revealing itself through the stretched mouth, as the eyes encountered Mr Dombey's!
'What business intelligence is there?' inquired the latter gentleman, after a silence, during which Mr Carker had produced some memoranda and other papers.
'There is very little,' returned Carker. 'Upon the whole we have not had our usual good fortune of late, but that is of little moment to you. At Lloyd's, they give up the Son and Heir for lost. Well, she was insured, from her keel to her masthead.'
'Carker,' said Mr Dombey, taking a chair near him, 'I cannot say that young man, Gay, ever impressed me favourably
'Nor me,' interposed the Manager.
'But I wish,' said Mr Dombey, without heeding the interruption, 'he had never gone on board that ship. I wish he had never been sent out.
'It is a pity you didn't say so, in good time, is it not?' retorted Carker, coolly. 'However, I think it's all for the best. I really, think it's all for the best. Did I mention that there was something like a little confidence between Miss Dombey and myself?'
'No,' said Mr Dombey, sternly.
'I have no doubt,' returned Mr Carker, after an impressive pause, 'that wherever Gay is, he is much better where he is, than at home here. If I were, or could be, in your place, I should be satisfied of that. I am quite satisfied of it myself. Miss Dombey is confiding and young - perhaps hardly proud enough, for your daughter - if she have a fault. Not that that is much though, I am sure. Will you check these balances with me?'
Mr Dombey leaned back in his chair, instead of bending over the papers that were laid before him, and looked the Manager steadily in the face. The Manager, with his eyelids slightly raised, affected to be glancing at his figures, and to await the leisure of his principal. He showed that he affected this, as if from great delicacy, and with a design to spare Mr Dombey's feelings; and the latter, as he looked at him, was cognizant of his intended consideration, and felt that but for it, this confidential Carker would have said a great deal more, which he, Mr Dombey, was too proud to ask for. It was his way in business, often. Little by little, Mr Dombey's gaze relaxed, and his attention became diverted to the papers before him; but while busy with the occupation they afforded him, he frequently stopped, and looked at Mr Carker again. Whenever he did so, Mr Carker was demonstrative, as before, in his delicacy, and impressed it on his great chief more and more.
While they were thus engaged; and under the skilful culture of the Manager, angry thoughts in reference to poor Florence brooded and bred in Mr Dombey's breast, usurping the place of the cold dislike that generally reigned there; Major Bagstock, much admired by the old ladies of Leamington, and followed by the Native, carrying the usual amount of light baggage, straddled along the shady side of the way, to make a morning call on Mrs Skewton. It being midday when the Major reached the bower of Cleopatra, he had the good fortune to find his Princess on her usual sofa, languishing over a cup of coffee, with the room so darkened and shaded for her more luxurious repose, that Withers, who was in attendance on her, loomed like a phantom page.
'What insupportable creature is this, coming in?' said Mrs Skewton, 'I cannot hear it. Go away, whoever you are!'
'You have not the heart to banish J. B., Ma'am!' said the Major halting midway, to remonstrate, with his cane over his shoulder.
'Oh it's you, is it? On second thoughts, you may enter,' observed Cleopatra.
The Major entered accordingly, and advancing to the sofa pressed her charming hand to his lips.
'Sit down,' said Cleopatra, listlessly waving her fan, 'a long way off. Don't come too near me, for I am frightfully faint and sensitive this morning, and you smell of the Sun. You are absolutely tropical.'
'By George, Ma'am,' said the Major, 'the time has been when Joseph Bagstock has been grilled and blistered by the Sun; then time was, when he was forced, Ma'am, into such full blow, by high hothouse heat in the West Indies, that he was known as the Flower. A man never heard of Bagstock, Ma'am, in those days; he heard of the Flower - the Flower of Ours. The Flower may have faded, more or less, Ma'am,' observed the Major, dropping into a much nearer chair than had been indicated by his cruel Divinity, 'but it is a tough plant yet, and constant as the evergreen.'
Here the Major, under cover of the dark room, shut up one eye, rolled his head like a Harlequin, and, in his great self-satisfaction, perhaps went nearer to the confines of apoplexy than he had ever gone before.
'Where is Mrs Granger?' inquired Cleopatra of her page.
Withers believed she was in her own room.
'Very well,' said Mrs Skewton. 'Go away, and shut the door. I am engaged.'
As Withers disappeared, Mrs Skewton turned her head languidly towards the Major, without otherwise moving, and asked him how his friend was.
'Dombey, Ma'am,' returned the Major, with a facetious gurgling in his throat, 'is as well as a man in his condition can be. His condition is a desperate one, Ma'am. He is touched, is Dombey! Touched!' cried the Major. 'He is bayonetted through the body.'
Cleopatra cast a sharp look at the Major, that contrasted forcibly with the affected drawl in which she presently said:
'Major Bagstock, although I know but little of the world, - nor can I really regret my experience, for I fear it is a false place, full of withering conventionalities: where Nature is but little regarded, and where the music of the heart, and the gushing of the soul, and all that sort of thing, which is so truly poetical, is seldom heard, - I cannot misunderstand your meaning. There is an allusion to Edith - to my extremely dear child,' said Mrs Skewton, tracing the outline of her eyebrows with her forefinger, 'in your words, to which the tenderest of chords vibrates excessively.'
'Bluntness, Ma'am,' returned the Major, 'has ever been the characteristic of the Bagstock breed. You are right. Joe admits it.'
'And that allusion,' pursued Cleopatra, 'would involve one of the most - if not positively the most - touching, and thrilling, and sacred emotions of which our sadly-fallen nature is susceptible, I conceive.'
The Major laid his hand upon his lips, and wafted a kiss to Cleopatra, as if to identify the emotion in question.
'I feel that I am weak. I feel that I am wanting in that energy, which should sustain a Mama: not to say a parent: on such a subject,' said Mrs Skewton, trimming her lips with the laced edge of her pocket-handkerchief; 'but I can hardly approach a topic so excessively momentous to my dearest Edith without a feeling of faintness. Nevertheless, bad man, as you have boldly remarked upon it, and as it has occasioned me great anguish:' Mrs Skewton touched her left side with her fan: 'I will not shrink from my duty.'
The Major, under cover of the dimness, swelled, and swelled, and rolled his purple face about, and winked his lobster eye, until he fell into a fit of wheezing, which obliged him to rise and take a turn or two about the room, before his fair friend could proceed.
'Mr Dombey,' said Mrs Skewton, when she at length resumed, 'was obliging enough, now many weeks ago, to do us the honour of visiting us here; in company, my dear Major, with yourself. I acknowledge - let me be open - that it is my failing to be the creature of impulse, and to wear my heart as it were, outside. I know my failing full well. My enemy cannot know it better. But I am not penitent; I would rather not be frozen by the heartless world, and am content to bear this imputation justly.'
Mrs Skewton arranged her tucker, pinched her wiry throat to give it a soft surface, and went on, with great complacency.
'It gave me (my dearest Edith too, I am sure) infinite pleasure to receive Mr Dombey. As a friend of yours, my dear Major, we were naturally disposed to be prepossessed in his favour; and I fancied that I observed an amount of Heart in Mr Dombey, that was excessively refreshing.'
'There is devilish little heart in Dombey now, Ma'am,' said the Major.
'Wretched man!' cried Mrs Skewton, looking at him languidly, 'pray be silent.'
'J. B. is dumb, Ma'am,' said the Major.
'Mr Dombey,' pursued Cleopatra, smoothing the rosy hue upon her cheeks, 'accordingly repeated his visit; and possibly finding some attraction in the simplicity and primitiveness of our tastes - for there is always a charm in nature - it is so very sweet - became one of our little circle every evening. Little did I think of the awful responsibility into which I plunged when I encouraged Mr Dombey - to -
'To beat up these quarters, Ma'am,' suggested Major Bagstock.
'Coarse person! 'said Mrs Skewton, 'you anticipate my meaning, though in odious language.
Here Mrs Skewton rested her elbow on the little table at her side, and suffering her wrist to droop in what she considered a graceful and becoming manner, dangled her fan to and fro, and lazily admired her hand while speaking.
'The agony I have endured,' she said mincingly, 'as the truth has by degrees dawned upon me, has been too exceedingly terrific to dilate upon. My whole existence is bound up in my sweetest Edith; and to see her change from day to day - my beautiful pet, who has positively garnered up her heart since the death of that most delightful creature, Granger - is the most affecting thing in the world.'
Mrs Skewton's world was not a very trying one, if one might judge of it by the influence of its most affecting circumstance upon her; but this by the way.
'Edith,' simpered Mrs Skewton, 'who is the perfect pearl of my life, is said to resemble me. I believe we are alike.'
'There is one man in the world who never will admit that anyone resembles you, Ma'am,' said the Major; 'and that man's name is Old Joe Bagstock.'
Cleopatra made as if she would brain the flatterer with her fan, but relenting, smiled upon him and proceeded:
'If my charming girl inherits any advantages from me, wicked one!': the Major was the wicked one: 'she inherits also my foolish nature. She has great force of character - mine has been said to be immense, though I don't believe it - but once moved, she is susceptible and sensitive to the last extent. What are my feelings when I see her pining! They destroy me.
The Major advancing his double chin, and pursing up his blue lips into a soothing expression, affected the profoundest sympathy.
'The confidence,' said Mrs Skewton, 'that has subsisted between us - the free development of soul, and openness of sentiment - is touching to think of. We have been more like sisters than Mama and child.'
'J. B.'s own sentiment,' observed the Major, 'expressed by J. B. fifty thousand times!'
'Do not interrupt, rude man!' said Cleopatra. 'What are my feelings, then, when I find that there is one subject avoided by us! That there is a what's-his-name - a gulf - opened between us. That my own artless Edith is changed to me! They are of the most poignant description, of course.'
The Major left his chair, and took one nearer to the little table.
'From day to day I see this, my dear Major,' proceeded Mrs Skewton. 'From day to day I feel this. From hour to hour I reproach myself for that excess of faith and trustfulness which has led to such distressing consequences; and almost from minute to minute, I hope that Mr Dombey may explain himself, and relieve the torture I undergo, which is extremely wearing. But nothing happens, my dear Major; I am the slave of remorse - take care of the coffee-cup: you are so very awkward - my darling Edith is an altered being; and I really don't see what is to be done, or what good creature I can advise with.'
Major Bagstock, encouraged perhaps by the softened and confidential tone into which Mrs Skewton, after several times lapsing into it for a moment, seemed now to have subsided for good, stretched out his hand across the little table, and said with a leer,
'Advise with Joe, Ma'am.'
'Then, you aggravating monster,' said Cleopatra, giving one hand to the Major, and tapping his knuckles with her fan, which she held in the other: 'why don't you talk to me? you know what I mean. Why don't you tell me something to the purpose?'
The Major laughed, and kissed the hand she had bestowed upon him, and laughed again immensely.
'Is there as much Heart in Mr Dombey as I gave him credit for?' languished Cleopatra tenderly. 'Do you think he is in earnest, my dear Major? Would you recommend his being spoken to, or his being left alone? Now tell me, like a dear man, what would you advise.'
'Shall we marry him to Edith Granger, Ma'am?' chuckled the Major, hoarsely.
'Mysterious creature!' returned Cleopatra, bringing her fan to bear upon the Major's nose. 'How can we marry him?'
'Shall we marry him to Edith Granger, Ma'am, I say?' chuckled the Major again.
Mrs Skewton returned no answer in words, but smiled upon the Major with so much archness and vivacity, that that gallant officer considering himself challenged, would have imprinted a kiss on her exceedingly red lips, but for her interposing the fan with a very winning and juvenile dexterity. It might have been in modesty; it might have been in apprehension of some danger to their bloom.
'Dombey, Ma'am,' said the Major, 'is a great catch.'
'Oh, mercenary wretch!' cried Cleopatra, with a little shriek, 'I am shocked.'
'And Dombey, Ma'am,' pursued the Major, thrusting forward his head, and distending his eyes, 'is in earnest. Joseph says it; Bagstock knows it; J. B. keeps him to the mark. Leave Dombey to himself, Ma'am. Dombey is safe, Ma'am. Do as you have done; do no more; and trust to J. B. for the end.'
'You really think so, my dear Major?' returned Cleopatra, who had eyed him very cautiously, and very searchingly, in spite of her listless bearing.
'Sure of it, Ma'am,' rejoined the Major. 'Cleopatra the peerless, and her Antony Bagstock, will often speak of this, triumphantly, when sharing the elegance and wealth of Edith Dombey's establishment. Dombey's right-hand man, Ma'am,' said the Major, stopping abruptly in a chuckle, and becoming serious, 'has arrived.'
'This morning?' said Cleopatra.
'This morning, Ma'am,' returned the Major. 'And Dombey's anxiety for his arrival, Ma'am, is to be referred - take J. B.'s word for this; for Joe is devilish sly' - the Major tapped his nose, and screwed up one of his eyes tight: which did not enhance his native beauty - 'to his desire that what is in the wind should become known to him' without Dombey's telling and consulting him. For Dombey is as proud, Ma'am,' said the Major, 'as Lucifer.'
'A charming quality,' lisped Mrs Skewton; 'reminding one of dearest Edith.'
'Well, Ma'am,' said the Major. 'I have thrown out hints already, and the right-hand man understands 'em; and I'll throw out more, before the day is done. Dombey projected this morning a ride to Warwick Castle, and to Kenilworth, to-morrow, to be preceded by a breakfast with us. I undertook the delivery of this invitation. Will you honour us so far, Ma'am?' said the Major, swelling with shortness of breath and slyness, as he produced a note, addressed to the Honourable Mrs Skewton, by favour of Major Bagstock, wherein hers ever faithfully, Paul Dombey, besought her and her amiable and accomplished daughter to consent to the proposed excursion; and in a postscript unto which, the same ever faithfully Paul Dombey entreated to be recalled to the remembrance of Mrs Granger.
'Hush!' said Cleopatra, suddenly, 'Edith!'
The loving mother can scarcely be described as resuming her insipid and affected air when she made this exclamation; for she had never cast it off; nor was it likely that she ever would or could, in any other place than in the grave. But hurriedly dismissing whatever shadow of earnestness, or faint confession of a purpose, laudable or wicked, that her face, or voice, or manner: had, for the moment, betrayed, she lounged upon the couch, her most insipid and most languid self again, as Edith entered the room.
Edith, so beautiful and stately, but so cold and so repelling. Who, slightly acknowledging the presence of Major Bagstock, and directing a keen glance at her mother, drew back the from a window, and sat down there, looking out.
'My dearest Edith,' said Mrs Skewton, 'where on earth have you been? I have wanted you, my love, most sadly.'
'You said you were engaged, and I stayed away,' she answered, without turning her head.
'It was cruel to Old Joe, Ma'am,' said the Major in his gallantry.
'It was very cruel, I know,' she said, still looking out - and said with such calm disdain, that the Major was discomfited, and could think of nothing in reply.
'Major Bagstock, my darling Edith,' drawled her mother, 'who is generally the most useless and disagreeable creature in the world: as you know - '
'It is surely not worthwhile, Mama,' said Edith, looking round, 'to observe these forms of speech. We are quite alone. We know each other.'
The quiet scorn that sat upon her handsome face - a scorn that evidently lighted on herself, no less than them - was so intense and deep, that her mother's simper, for the instant, though of a hardy constitution, drooped before it.
'My darling girl,' she began again.
'Not woman yet?' said Edith, with a smile.
'How very odd you are to-day, my dear! Pray let me say, my love, that Major Bagstock has brought the kindest of notes from Mr Dombey, proposing that we should breakfast with him to-morrow, and ride to Warwick and Kenilworth. Will you go, Edith?'
'Will I go!' she repeated, turning very red, and breathing quickly as she looked round at her mother.
'I knew you would, my own, observed the latter carelessly. 'It is, as you say, quite a form to ask. Here is Mr Dombey's letter, Edith.'
'Thank you. I have no desire to read it,' was her answer.
'Then perhaps I had better answer it myself,' said Mrs Skewton, 'though I had thought of asking you to be my secretary, darling.' As Edith made no movement, and no answer, Mrs Skewton begged the Major to wheel her little table nearer, and to set open the desk it contained, and to take out pen and paper for her; all which congenial offices of gallantry the Major discharged, with much submission and devotion.
'Your regards, Edith, my dear?' said Mrs Skewton, pausing, pen in hand, at the postscript.
'What you will, Mama,' she answered, without turning her head, and with supreme indifference.
Mrs Skewton wrote what she would, without seeking for any more explicit directions, and handed her letter to the Major, who receiving it as a precious charge, made a show of laying it near his heart, but was fain to put it in the pocket of his pantaloons on account of the insecurity of his waistcoat The Major then took a very polished and chivalrous farewell of both ladies, which the elder one acknowledged in her usual manner, while the younger, sitting with her face addressed to the window, bent her head so slightly that it would have been a greater compliment to the Major to have made no sign at all, and to have left him to infer that he had not been heard or thought of.
'As to alteration in her, Sir,' mused the Major on his way back; on which expedition - the afternoon being sunny and hot - he ordered the Native and the light baggage to the front, and walked in the shadow of that expatriated prince: 'as to alteration, Sir, and pining, and so forth, that won't go down with Joseph Bagstock, None of that, Sir. It won't do here. But as to there being something of a division between 'em - or a gulf as the mother calls it - damme, Sir, that seems true enough. And it's odd enough! Well, Sir!' panted the Major, 'Edith Granger and Dombey are well matched; let 'em fight it out! Bagstock backs the winner!'
The Major, by saying these latter words aloud, in the vigour of his thoughts, caused the unhappy Native to stop, and turn round, in the belief that he was personally addressed. Exasperated to the last degree by this act of insubordination, the Major (though he was swelling with enjoyment of his own humour, at the moment of its occurrence instantly thrust his cane among the Native's ribs, and continued to stir him up, at short intervals, all the way to the hotel.
Nor was the Major less exasperated as he dressed for dinner, during which operation the dark servant underwent the pelting of a shower of miscellaneous objects, varying in size from a boot to a hairbrush, and including everything that came within his master's reach. For the Major plumed himself on having the Native in a perfect state of drill, and visited the least departure from strict discipline with this kind of fatigue duty. Add to this, that he maintained the Native about his person as a counter-irritant against the gout, and all other vexations, mental as well as bodily; and the Native would appear to have earned his pay - which was not large.
At length, the Major having disposed of all the missiles that were convenient to his hand, and having called the Native so many new names as must have given him great occasion to marvel at the resources of the English language, submitted to have his cravat put on; and being dressed, and finding himself in a brisk flow of spirits after this exercise, went downstairs to enliven 'Dombey' and his right-hand man.
Dombey was not yet in the room, but the right-hand man was there, and his dental treasures were, as usual, ready for the Major.
'Well, Sir!' said the Major. 'How have you passed the time since I had the happiness of meeting you? Have you walked at all?'
'A saunter of barely half an hour's duration,' returned Carker. 'We have been so much occupied.'
'Business, eh?' said the Major.
'A variety of little matters necessary to be gone through,' replied Carker. 'But do you know - this is quite unusual with me, educated in a distrustful school, and who am not generally disposed to be communicative,' he said, breaking off, and speaking in a charming tone of frankness - 'but I feel quite confidential with you, Major Bagstock.'
'You do me honour, Sir,' returned the Major. 'You may be.'
'Do you know, then,' pursued Carker, 'that I have not found my friend - our friend, I ought rather to call him - '
'Meaning Dombey, Sir?' cried the Major. 'You see me, Mr Carker, standing here! J. B.?'
He was puffy enough to see, and blue enough; and Mr Carker intimated the he had that pleasure.
'Then you see a man, Sir, who would go through fire and water to serve Dombey,' returned Major Bagstock.
Mr Carker smiled, and said he was sure of it. 'Do you know, Major,' he proceeded: 'to resume where I left off' that I have not found our friend so attentive to business today, as usual?'
'No?' observed the delighted Major.
'I have found him a little abstracted, and with his attention disposed to wander,' said Carker.
'By Jove, Sir,' cried the Major, 'there's a lady in the case.'
'Indeed, I begin to believe there really is,' returned Carker; 'I thought you might be jesting when you seemed to hint at it; for I know you military men -
The Major gave the horse's cough, and shook his head and shoulders, as much as to say, 'Well! we are gay dogs, there's no denying.' He then seized Mr Carker by the button-hole, and with starting eyes whispered in his ear, that she was a woman of extraordinary charms, Sir. That she was a young widow, Sir. That she was of a fine family, Sir. That Dombey was over head and ears in love with her, Sir, and that it would be a good match on both sides; for she had beauty, blood, and talent, and Dombey had fortune; and what more could any couple have? Hearing Mr Dombey's footsteps without, the Major cut himself short by saying, that Mr Carker would see her tomorrow morning, and would judge for himself; and between his mental excitement, and the exertion of saying all this in wheezy whispers, the Major sat gurgling in the throat and watering at the eyes, until dinner was ready.
The Major, like some other noble animals, exhibited himself to great advantage at feeding-time. On this occasion, he shone resplendent at one end of the table, supported by the milder lustre of Mr Dombey at the other; while Carker on one side lent his ray to either light, or suffered it to merge into both, as occasion arose.
During the first course or two, the Major was usually grave; for the Native, in obedience to general orders, secretly issued, collected every sauce and cruet round him, and gave him a great deal to do, in taking out the stoppers, and mixing up the contents in his plate. Besides which, the Native had private zests and flavours on a side-table, with which the Major daily scorched himself; to say nothing of strange machines out of which he spirited unknown liquids into the Major's drink. But on this occasion, Major Bagstock, even amidst these many occupations, found time to be social; and his sociality consisted in excessive slyness for the behoof of Mr Carker, and the betrayal of Mr Dombey's state of mind.
'Dombey,' said the Major, 'you don't eat; what's the matter?'
'Thank you,' returned the gentleman, 'I am doing very well; I have no great appetite today.'
'Why, Dombey, what's become of it?' asked the Major. 'Where's it gone? You haven't left it with our friends, I'll swear, for I can answer for their having none to-day at luncheon. I can answer for one of 'em, at least: I won't say which.'
Then the Major winked at Carker, and became so frightfully sly, that his dark attendant was obliged to pat him on the back, without orders, or he would probably have disappeared under the table.
In a later stage of the dinner: that is to say, when the Native stood at the Major's elbow ready to serve the first bottle of champagne: the Major became still slyer.
'Fill this to the brim, you scoundrel,' said the Major, holding up his glass. 'Fill Mr Carker's to the brim too. And Mr Dombey's too. By Gad, gentlemen,' said the Major, winking at his new friend, while Mr Dombey looked into his plate with a conscious air, 'we'll consecrate this glass of wine to a Divinity whom Joe is proud to know, and at a distance humbly and reverently to admire. Edith,' said the Major, 'is her name; angelic Edith!'
'To angelic Edith!' cried the smiling Carker.
'Edith, by all means,' said Mr Dombey.
The entrance of the waiters with new dishes caused the Major to be slyer yet, but in a more serious vein. 'For though among ourselves, Joe Bagstock mingles jest and earnest on this subject, Sir,' said the Major, laying his finger on his lips, and speaking half apart to Carker, 'he holds that name too sacred to be made the property of these fellows, or of any fellows. Not a word!, Sir' while they are here!'
This was respectful and becoming on the Major's part, and Mr Dombey plainly felt it so. Although embarrassed in his own frigid way, by the Major's allusions, Mr Dombey had no objection to such rallying, it was clear, but rather courted it. Perhaps the Major had been pretty near the truth, when he had divined that morning that the great man who was too haughty formally to consult with, or confide in his prime minister, on such a matter, yet wished him to be fully possessed of it. Let this be how it may, he often glanced at Mr Carker while the Major plied his light artillery, and seemed watchful of its effect upon him.
But the Major, having secured an attentive listener, and a smiler who had not his match in all the world - 'in short, a devilish intelligent and able fellow,' as he often afterwards declared - was not going to let him off with a little slyness personal to Mr Dombey. Therefore, on the removal of the cloth, the Major developed himself as a choice spirit in the broader and more comprehensive range of narrating regimental stories, and cracking regimental jokes, which he did with such prodigal exuberance, that Carker was (or feigned to be) quite exhausted with laughter and admiration: while Mr Dombey looked on over his starched cravat, like the Major's proprietor, or like a stately showman who was glad to see his bear dancing well.
When the Major was too hoarse with meat and drink, and the display of his social powers, to render himself intelligible any longer, they adjourned to coffee. After which, the Major inquired of Mr Carker the Manager, with little apparent hope of an answer in the affirmative, if he played picquet.
'Yes, I play picquet a little,' said Mr Carker.
'Backgammon, perhaps?' observed the Major, hesitating.
'Yes, I play backgammon a little too,' replied the man of teeth.
'Carker plays at all games, I believe,' said Mr Dombey, laying himself on a sofa like a man of wood, without a hinge or a joint in him; 'and plays them well.'
In sooth, he played the two in question, to such perfection, that the Major was astonished, and asked him, at random, if he played chess.
'Yes, I play chess a little,' answered Carker. 'I have sometimes played, and won a game - it's a mere trick - without seeing the board.'
'By Gad, Sir!' said the Major, staring, 'you are a contrast to Dombey, who plays nothing.'
'Oh! He!' returned the Manager. 'He has never had occasion to acquire such little arts. To men like me, they are sometimes useful. As at present, Major Bagstock, when they enable me to take a hand with you.'
It might be only the false mouth, so smooth and wide; and yet there seemed to lurk beneath the humility and subserviency of this short speech, a something like a snarl; and, for a moment, one might have thought that the white teeth were prone to bite the hand they fawned upon. But the Major thought nothing about it; and Mr Dombey lay meditating with his eyes half shut, during the whole of the play, which lasted until bed-time.
By that time, Mr Carker, though the winner, had mounted high into the Major's good opinion, insomuch that when he left the Major at his own room before going to bed, the Major as a special attention, sent the Native - who always rested on a mattress spread upon the ground at his master's door - along the gallery, to light him to his room in state.
There was a faint blur on the surface of the mirror in Mr Carker's chamber, and its reflection was, perhaps, a false one. But it showed, that night, the image of a man, who saw, in his fancy, a crowd of people slumbering on the ground at his feet, like the poor Native at his master's door: who picked his way among them: looking down, maliciously enough: but trod upon no upturned face - as yet.
“我是您最顺从的仆人，先生，”少校说道，“他妈的，先生，我的朋友董贝先生的朋友就是我的朋友。我很高兴见到您。”
“卡克，”董贝先生解释道，“白格斯托克少校陪同我游览，跟我交谈，我对他无限感激。白格斯托克少校给我帮了很大的忙，卡克。”
经理卡克先生手中握着帽子，刚刚到达莱明顿，并刚刚被介绍给少校；他向少校显露出上下两排的全部牙齿，说他相信，他能不揣冒昧地衷心感谢他在改善董贝先生的神色和精神上取得了十分显著的效果。
“说实在的，先生，”少校回答道，“用不着感谢我，因为这是件双方相互受益的事情。像我们的朋友董贝这样一位伟大的人物，先生，”少校放低了嗓门说道，但是没有低到使那位先生听不到，“他总是在无意之间就能促使他的朋友进步，变得高尚起来的，先生；他——董贝先生增强和激励着一个人的道德本性。”
卡克先生对这些话连声赞同。他增强和激励着一个人的道德本性，正是这样！这正是他就要脱口说出的话。
“但是，先生，”少校接着说道，“当我的朋友董贝跟您谈到白格斯托克少校时，我却必须恳求允许我把他和您纠正纠正。他指的是直率的乔，先生——乔埃•白——乔希•白格斯托克——约瑟夫——粗鲁和坚强的老乔，先生。我愿为您效劳。”
卡克先生对少校极为友好的态度，以及卡克先生对他粗鲁、坚强和直率的赞赏，都从卡克先生的每颗牙齿中闪现出来。
“现在，先生，”少校说道，“您和董贝有好多好多的事情要商量啦。”
“不，不，少校，”董贝先生说道。
“董贝，”少校坚决不同意地说道，“我很明白，像您这样杰出的人物——商业界的巨子，是不应该受到打扰的。您的每一秒钟都是宝贵的。我们吃晚饭的时候再见吧。在这段时间里，老约瑟夫就避开了。卡克先生，吃晚饭的时间是七点正。”
少校说完这些话之后，脸上露出极为扬扬得意的表情，离开了。但他立即又在门口探进头来说：
“请原谅，董贝，您有什么话需要我转告她们的？”
董贝先生有点不好意思，向那位殷勤有礼、掌握了他的商业秘密的人稍稍看了一眼，然后拜托少校向她们转致他的问候。
“哎呀，先生”少校说，“您得说点更热情的话才好呢，要不老乔就不会受到热烈的欢迎了。”
“那么，少校，就请向她们转致我的敬意吧！”董贝先生回答道。
“他妈的，先生，”少校滑稽地摇晃着他的肩膀和肥厚的双颊，说道，“您得表示更热情一些才好呵。”
“那么，少校，您爱说什么就说什么吧，”董贝先生说道。
“我们的朋友是狡猾的，先生，狡猾的，魔鬼一般的狡猾，”少校在门口转过头来直盯着卡克，说道，“白格斯托克也是这样，”但是少校在吃吃笑着的中间停了下来，伸直了身子，拍拍胸膛，庄重地说道，“董贝，我真羡慕您的感情，上帝保佑您！”然后他离开了。
“您一定觉得这位先生是一位很能开心解闷的人，”卡克先生在他的身后露出牙齿，说道。
“确实是这样，”董贝先生说道。
“他在这里无疑是有朋友的，”卡克先生继续说道，“我从他的话中知道，您在这里经常参加社交活动；您可知道，”他令人讨厌地微笑着，“您经常参加社交活动，我真是高兴极了。”
董贝先生捻转着表链子，并轻轻地摇晃着脑袋，对这位地位仅次于他的助手所显示的关心表示感谢。
“您生来就是属于社会的人，”卡克说道，“在我所认识的人们当中，从性格和地位来说，您都是最适合于进入社会开展活动的。您可知道，您过去竟这么长久地和社会保持着一定距离，我一直感到惊奇！”
“我有我的理由，卡克。我是个独立门户，不求助于他人的人，所以我对社会漠不关心，但是您本人是位有出色社交才能的人，因此就更容易感到惊奇了。”
“哦，我！”那一位敏捷地用自我贬低的口吻回答道，“像我这样的人那是完全另外一码事。我根本不能和您相比。”
董贝先生把手伸向领带，下巴缩在里面，咳嗽了一声，然后站在那里，向他忠实的朋友和奴仆默默地看了几秒钟。
“卡克，”董贝先生终于说道，他这时的表情就仿佛是咽下对他的喉咙有些过大的什么东西似的，“我将高兴把您介绍给我的——介绍给少校的朋友们。她们是很使人感到愉快的人们。”
“我想他们当中也有女士吧，”圆滑的经理旁敲侧击地问道。
“他们全是，——就是说，她们两人全是女士，”董贝先生回答道。
“只有两人吗？”卡克笑嘻嘻地问道。
“只有两人。我在这里只是到她们的住所里去拜访过，没有结识其他什么人。”
“也许是姐妹俩吧？”卡克问道。
“母亲和女儿，”董贝先生回答道。
董贝先生低下眼睛，又把领带整整好，这时候经理卡克先生笑嘻嘻的脸容，没有经过任何过渡阶段，突然一下子转变成目不转睛、皱眉蹙额的脸容，眼光全神贯注地细细观察着董贝先生的脸，并露出丑恶的讥笑。当董贝先生抬起眼睛的时候，卡克先生的脸孔又以同样敏捷的速度恢复了原来的表情，向他露出全部牙床。
“谢谢您的好意，”卡克说道，“我将高兴认识她们。说到女儿，使我想起，我见到过董贝小姐呢。”
血流突然涌上了董贝先生的脸。
“我冒昧地去看望了她，”卡克说道，“问她有什么事要交我办的，可是很不幸，除了——除了她的亲切的爱之外，我没能给她带来别的东西。”
这真像狼一般的脸孔啊！当他的眼光碰到了董贝先生的眼光时，从他张开的嘴巴中甚至可以看到那火热的舌头！
“公司里的业务情况怎么样？”那一位先生沉默了一会儿之后问道；在沉默的时间中，卡克先生取出了一些便函和其他文件、票据。
“生意很清淡，”卡克回答道，“总的来说，我们最近运气不像往常那样好，不过这对于您来说没什么要紧。劳埃德商船协会①认为‘儿子和继承人’已经沉没了。幸好它从龙骨到桅顶都是保了险的。”
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①劳埃德商船协会：伦敦当时经营海上保险业和船舶检查注册的一个团体。
“卡克，”董贝先生把一把椅子移近身边，说道，“我不能说那位年轻人盖伊曾给我留下好印象。”
“也没有给我留下好印象，”经理插话道。
“可是，”董贝先生没有注意到他的插话，继续说道，“我真愿他当初没有乘这条船，当初没有派他去就好了。”
“真可惜，您当初没早讲，是吧？”卡克冷冷地回答道，“不过，我想，到头来这倒会是件好事。我确实认为，到头来这倒会是件好事。我跟您说过没有，董贝小姐与我本人相互间还有着一点类似信任的关系呢？”
“没有，”董贝先生严厉地说道。
“我毫不怀疑，”卡克在一段令人难忘的沉默之后继续说道，“不论盖伊现在在什么地方，他待在那个地方总比在这里待在家中要好得多。如果我处在，或者能处在您的地位的话，我将对这种情况感到满意。我本人是很满意的。董贝小姐年轻，轻信，如果她有什么缺点的话，那就是，作为您的女儿，也许还不够高傲。当然，这算不了什么。您跟我核对一下这些帐目好吗？”
董贝先生没有弯下身子去看那些摊在面前的帐单，而是往后仰靠在椅子中，目不转睛地看着这位经理的脸。经理眼皮稍稍抬起一点，假装看着数字，而不去催促他的老板。他毫不掩饰他是出于对董贝先生体帖入微和有意不伤害他的感情才假装成这样子的；董贝先生坐在那里看着他的时候，明白他是有意关照他；他觉得，如果不是为了这一点，这位深受他信任的卡克本会说出更多更多的话的，但是董贝先生太高傲了，他不会请求他说。他在业务上也经常这样。董贝先生的眼光逐渐松弛下来，他的注意力开始转移到面前的票据上面；但是他在埋头研究的过程中经常停下来，重新看着卡克先生；每当他这样做的时候；卡克先生就像先前一样，表露出他的殷勤，给他的老板留下了愈来愈深刻的印象。
他们就这样忙着业务；在经理的巧妙的引导下，董贝先生心中对可怜的弗洛伦斯产生和滋长着愤怒的思想，它正取代着往常对她冷酷的厌恶；就正在这些时候，被莱明顿老太太们所称颂的白格斯托克少校，正沿着街道有荫影的一边迈着步子，去向斯丘顿夫人进行一次上午的拜访；本地人手里拿着那些通常的随身用品，跟随在他后面；当少校到达克利奥佩特拉的闺房时，正是中午，所以他幸运地看到他的女王像平时一样坐在沙发上，有气无力地面对着一杯咖啡；为了使她能得到舒适的休息，房间被窗帘遮蔽得十分阴暗，在她身旁侍候的威瑟斯就像一个侍童的幽灵一样，朦胧不明地浮现出身形。
“什么讨厌的东西进来了？”斯丘顿夫人说道，“我不能容忍它。不管你是谁，快滚开！”
“夫人，您不会忍心把乔•白撵走的！”少校在中途停下，抗议道，手杖挂在他的肩膀上。
“啊，是你呀，是吗？好吧，我改变主意，可以让你进来。”
克利奥佩特拉说道。
于是，少校就走进来，到了沙发旁边，把她可爱的手压到他的嘴唇上。
“坐吧，”克利奥佩特拉没精打采地摇着扇子，说道，“坐得远些，不要太挨近我，因为今天下午我虚弱得要命，感觉非常灵敏。你身上有一股太阳气。你简直就跟从热带跑来的人一样。”
“确实，夫人，”少校说道，“过去有一段时候，约瑟夫•白格斯托克曾经被太阳炙烤过，烫出过水泡；那时候，夫人，在西印度群岛温室般炎热的气温下，他不由得不茁壮成长；当时大家都以花这个外号来称呼他。在那些日子里，夫人，谁也不知道白格斯托克，但大家都知道花——我们的花。花现在多少有些枯萎了，夫人，”少校说道，一边坐到一张椅子里，他比他残酷的神所指定的那张椅子要近好多，“可是它仍然是一株顽强的植物，就像常绿树一样四季长青。”
这时少校在房间黑暗光线的掩护下，闭上一只眼睛，像哑剧中的丑角一样摇晃着脑袋，他在扬扬得意之中也许比过去任何时候都更接近于中风的边缘。
“格兰杰夫人在哪里？”克利奥佩特拉问她的童仆。
威瑟斯说，他猜想她在她自己的房间里。
“很好，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“你出去吧，把门关上，我有事。”
威瑟斯走开以后，斯丘顿夫人身体没有移动，只是有气无力地把头转向少校，问他，他的朋友怎么样？
“夫人，”少校喉咙里滑稽地发出咕嘟咕嘟的声音，回答道，“就一个处在他这种境况中的人来说，董贝总算还不错。夫人，他目前的情况已到了危急万分的地步。他神魂颠倒了！董贝，他已经神魂颠倒了！”少校喊道，“他已经被刺伤得体无完肤了。”
克利奥佩特拉向少校敏锐地看了一眼，这和她接着讲话时假装的慢声慢气形成了鲜明的对照。
“白格斯托克少校，虽然我对世界了解得很少，（我对我缺乏经验并不真正感到遗憾，因为我担心这世界是个虚伪的地方，充满了使人难受的陈规旧习；这里，大自然受到轻视，也很少听到心的音乐，心灵的表露，以及所有那些富于真正诗意的东西），可是我不会误会你话中的含意。你的话是暗指伊迪丝——我无比亲爱的孩子。”斯丘顿夫人用食指沿着眉毛移动着，说道，“你的这些话使最温柔的心弦在有力地颤动！”
“夫人，”少校回答道，“坦率一直是白格斯托克家族的特点。您的话说对了。乔承认这一点。”
“你所暗指的这一点，”克利奥佩特拉继续说道，“将会涉及我们可悲地堕落的本性很容易产生的那最令人感动的、最惊心动魄的和最神圣的情感，至少也是这些最优美的情感中的一种。”
少校把手放到嘴唇上，向克利奥佩特拉送去一个飞吻，仿佛要指明这正是她所谈到的情感。
“我觉得我虚弱无力。我觉得我缺乏在这种时刻应该能支持住一位母亲——不说是一个家长的精力，”斯丘顿夫人用她手绢饰有花边的边缘抹了抹嘴唇，说道，“但是在谈到这个对我最亲爱的伊迪丝非常重要的问题时，我不能不感觉到要昏过去似的。不过话说回来，坏家伙，既然你已经大胆地提到了它，既然它已经造成我极度的痛苦，”斯丘顿夫人用扇子触了触她的左胁，“我将不会逃避我的责任。”
少校在阴暗光线的掩护下，踌躇满志，得意扬扬，来回摇晃着他那发青的脸，并眨着龙虾眼，直到后来他呼哧呼哧地一阵阵喘起气来，因此在他的女朋友能继续说话之前，他不得不站起身来，在房间里转了一、两圈。
“董贝先生十分客气，”斯丘顿夫人终于恢复了说话能力之后，说道，“好多个星期之前跟你，我亲爱的少校，一道到这里来拜访我们，使我们感到光荣之至。我承认——请允许我坦率地说——，我是个易受冲动的人，可以说，我的心就好像亮在外面似的。我对我的弱点知道得清清楚楚。我的敌人也不能比我知道得更清楚。可是我并不后悔；我宁肯不要被冰冷无情的世界冻僵，对这责怪我倒是心安理得，处之泰然的。”
斯丘顿夫人整了整领子，捏了捏瘦削的喉咙，使它表面光滑些，然后十分扬扬自得地继续说道：
“我接待董贝先生感到无比高兴（我相信，我最亲爱的伊迪丝也一样）。作为你的一个朋友，我亲爱的少校，我们很自然地事先就对他产生了好感。我觉得，我看到董贝先生充满了善良的心意，这是使人极能振奋精神的。”
“董贝先生现在什么心也没有了，夫人，”少校说道。
“坏蛋！”斯丘顿夫人没精打采地看着他说，“请别吱声！”
“乔•白一个字也不说了，夫人，”少校说道。
“董贝先生后来就不断到这里来拜访，”克利奥佩特拉揉平脸颊上的红粉，继续说道，“也许是发现我们纯朴和自然的风格中有什么吸引力吧——因为在自然中总是有一种魅力的——它是很引人入胜的——，他成了我们每天晚上小小聚会中的一员。当初我决没想到我会背负起这可怕的责任，那时候我鼓励董贝先生——”
“上这里来随便串串门，夫人，”白格斯托克少校提示说。
“粗野的人！”斯丘顿夫人说，“你猜对了我的意思，但使用了讨厌的语言。”
这时斯丘顿夫人把胳膊肘搁在身边的一张小桌子上，用她认为优美和合适的姿态垂下手腕，悬吊着扇子来回摆动，一边说话一边赞赏着她自己的手。
“当我逐渐明白真相的时候，”她装腔作势地说道，“我所忍受过的痛苦真是太可怕了，我不想去细细说它；我的整个一生都跟我最亲爱的伊迪丝紧密地联系在一起；我美丽的宝贝孩子，自从那极讨人喜欢的人儿格兰杰死去以后，她简直把心也给掩藏起来了；看到她的容颜一天天地改变，真是世界上最令人伤心的事情。”
如果人们从那最伤心的痛苦对斯丘顿夫人所产生的影响来判断的话，那么她的世界并不是很难于忍受的，不过这只是顺便说说而已。
“人们都说，”斯丘顿夫人傻笑着说道，“我生活中十全十美的的珍珠伊迪丝像我。我相信，我们确实是相像的。”
“世界上有一个人永远也不会承认有谁能像你，夫人，”少校说，“这个人的名字就是老乔•白格斯托克。”
克利奥佩特拉装着要用扇子打破马屁精的脑袋，但却又发了慈悲心，对他微笑着，继续说道：
“如果我迷人的女儿继承了我的什么优点的话，坏东西！”坏东西是指少校，“那么她也继承了我的傻脾气。她有着强烈的性格——人们说我的性格也是很强烈的，虽然我不相信——，但是她一旦被感动了，她是极容易动心和敏感的。当我看到她憔悴下去的时候，我的心情是什么滋味啊！它简直要毁了我。”
少校向前伸出他的双下巴，表示安慰地噘着发青的嘴唇，假装出极为深切的同情。
“我们之间存在的信任：心灵的自由发展和思想感情的尽情倾吐，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“想起来真是动人。我们像是姐妹俩，而不像妈妈和女儿。”
“乔•白就有这样的看法，”少校说道，“乔•白已讲过五万次了！”
“别插嘴，粗鲁的人！”克利奥佩特拉说，“当我发现有一个问题我们避开不谈的时候，我的心情是什么滋味啊！在我们中间悬隔着一道——该叫什么——鸿沟。我的天真朴实的伊迪丝要变成我的模样了！自然，这是最沉痛难忍的心情。”
少校离开他的椅子，坐到挨近小桌子的那一张中。
“一天又一天，我看到了这一点，我亲爱的少校，”斯丘顿夫人继续说道，“一天又一天，我感觉到了这一点。一小时又一小时，我责备自己，过分的信任，过分的无猜无疑，它已造成了如此痛苦的结果；差不多一分钟又一分钟，我希望董贝先生会自己来解释，并解除我遭受的痛苦，这痛苦真使我精疲力竭。但是什么也没有发生，我亲爱的少校。我深深地悔恨——小心别打破咖啡杯子，你这笨手笨脚的人——我最亲爱的伊迪丝是个已经改变了的人；我实在不知道该怎么办，也不知道我可以跟哪位好人商量。”
斯丘顿夫人曾经好多次采用，现在终于完全采用了温柔和信任的语气，白格斯托克少校也许受到这种语气的鼓励，就把手伸过小桌子，斜眼看着说道：
“跟乔商量吧，夫人。”
“既然这样，你这讨厌的怪物，”克利奥佩特拉把一只手递给少校，用另一只手中拿着的扇子轻轻地敲打他的指节，说道，“你为什么不跟我谈谈？你知道我指的是什么。为什么你不跟我谈谈这方面的事？”
少校哈哈大笑，吻了吻她伸给他的手，又连连不停地哈哈大笑。
“董贝先生是不是像我所认为的心地真诚善良的人？”有气无力的克利奥佩特拉亲切地说道，“你认为他是真心实意的吗？我亲爱的少校？你认为需要跟他说说还是听他自便？现在请告诉我，亲爱的人，你的意见怎么样？”
“我们要不要让他去跟伊迪丝•格兰杰结婚呢，夫人？”少校声音嘶哑地吃吃笑道。
“莫名其妙的东西！”克利奥佩特拉举起扇子去打少校的鼻子，说道，“我们怎么能让他去结婚？”
“我说，夫人，我们要不要让他去跟伊迪丝•格兰杰结婚？”少校又吃吃地笑道。
斯丘顿夫人没有答话，而是十分调皮、十分快活地向少校微笑着；这位好色的军官认为这是对自己的挑引，本想在她非常红的嘴唇上印上一个亲吻的，可是她却以十分可爱的、少女般的敏捷劲儿，用扇子挡住了。她这么做，也许是由于羞怯，但也许是由于她害怕嘴唇上涂染上的色泽会受到损害。
“夫人，”少校说道，“董贝是个人人想开采的金矿。”
“啊，你这满身铜臭的势利小人！”克利奥佩特拉轻轻地尖声喊道，“真叫我毛骨悚然。”
“夫人，”少校伸长脖子，睁大眼睛，继续说道，“董贝是真心实意的。约瑟夫这样说；白格斯托克知道这一点。乔•白正把他引到这一步。听凭董贝自己去吧，夫人。董贝是稳能到手的。你就跟过去一样行事好了，不要别的。请相信乔•白会把事情办到底的。”
“你真的这样想吗，我亲爱的少校？”克利奥佩特拉问道。她虽然是一副没精打采的姿态，但却很机警、很敏锐地逼视着他。
“绝对是真的，夫人，”少校回答道，“世上无双的克利奥佩特拉和她的安东尼•白格斯托克在伊迪丝•董贝富丽堂皇的公馆中享受财富时，将会经常得意扬扬地谈到这一点。夫人，董贝的左右手，”少校在吃吃的笑声中突然停住，一本正经地说道，“已经到这里来了。”
“今天早上？”克利奥佩特拉问道。
“今天早上，夫人，”少校回答道，“董贝曾经焦急地等待着他的来到，夫人，这说明了——请相信乔•白的话，因为乔是魔鬼般狡猾的人，”少校轻轻地敲打着自己的鼻子，并眯缝着一只眼睛，这并没有改善他天生的美容，“这说明了董贝希望他得知这个消息，不用他告诉他或跟他商量。因为，夫人，”少校说，“董贝就跟魔王一样骄傲。”
“这是个可爱的性格，”斯丘顿夫人吐字不清地说道，“它使人想起了我最亲爱的伊迪丝。”
“唔，夫人，”少校说，“我已经作出了一些暗示，那位左右手明白了，我将再作出一些暗示，直到那天来到为止。董贝今天早上建议明天乘车到沃里克城堡①和凯尼尔沃思②去游览，动身之前先跟我们一起吃早饭。我是替他来送请柬的。您肯不肯赏光，夫人？”少校说，当他取出一张短笺时，他脸上扬扬得意，露出狡猾的神气，气都喘不过来；这张短笺是烦请白格斯托克少校转交给尊敬的斯丘顿夫人的；在这张短笺中，她的永远忠实的保罗•董贝恳求她和她和蔼可亲的、多才多艺的女儿同意参加这次建议中的游览。在附言中，这同一位永远忠实的保罗•董贝请求她向格兰杰夫人转致他的问候。
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①沃里克（Warwick）：英格兰沃里克郡的一个城镇，以古城堡著名；该城堡规模宏大，结构完整，收藏有精美绘画和兵器。
②凯尼尔沃思（Kenilworth）：也是英格兰沃里克郡的一个城镇。
“别说话！”克利奥佩特拉突然说道，“伊迪丝！”
这位可爱的母亲在发出这个惊叫声之后又重新装出那副没有精神、装腔作势的神态，这种情景简直是不可能描写的；因为她从来没有抛开过这个神态，大概除了坟墓之外，不论在其他任何地方她都不想，也不可能抛开这个神态的。但是她在脸孔、声音或神态中曾经在片刻间暴露出她曾经认真怀有一种目的或微弱地承认她怀有那个目的（不论这目的是高尚的或邪恶的），而当伊迪丝走进房间的时候，她就急急忙忙地驱除掉她曾一时暴露出的所有这些神色的任何阴影，懒洋洋地斜靠在长沙发上，又是原先那极为没精打采和有气无力的神态。
伊迪丝十分美丽和庄严，但却又十分冷淡和拒人于千里之外。她对白格斯托克少校几乎没打招呼，向母亲敏锐地看了一眼之后，把一个窗子的窗帘拉开，在窗前坐下，望着外面。
“我最亲爱的伊迪丝，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“你这些时候待在哪里？我多么想看到你呀，我亲爱的。”
“你刚才说你有事，所以我就没进来，”她头也不回地回答道。
“这对老乔太残酷无情了，夫人，”少校以他特有的殷勤说道。
“是很残酷无情，我知道，”她仍然望着外面，说道，说话时不动声色，十分傲慢；少校十分狼狈，想不出什么话来回答。
“我亲爱的伊迪丝，”她的母亲慢声慢气地说道，“你知道，白格斯托克少校总的来说，是世界上最没用、最讨厌的人——”
“妈妈，完全不必采用这种讲话方式，”伊迪丝回过头来说道，“这里就我们三个人。我们彼此了解。”
她俊俏的脸上平平静静地显露出的轻蔑表情（对她自己的轻蔑显然并不比对他们的少）十分强烈和深刻，因此她母亲原先发出的傻笑，尽管是习惯性的，也不得不在这种表情前顷刻间从唇边消失了。
“我亲爱的女儿，”她又开始说道。
“还不是个女人吗？”伊迪丝微笑着说道。
“你今天多么古怪，我亲爱的！请让我说，我的宝贝，白格斯托克少校替董贝先生送来了十分客气的请柬，建议我们明天和他一起吃早饭，然后乘车去沃里克和肯尼尔沃思。你去吗，伊迪丝？”
“我去吗！”她重复着说道，她回过头来看母亲时，脸孔涨得通红，并急促地呼吸着。
“我
Chapter 27
 Deeper Shadows
Mr Carker the Manager rose with the lark, and went out, walking in the summer day. His meditations - and he meditated with contracted brows while he strolled along - hardly seemed to soar as high as the lark, or to mount in that direction; rather they kept close to their nest upon the earth, and looked about, among the dust and worms. But there was not a bird in the air, singing unseen, farther beyond the reach of human eye than Mr Carker's thoughts. He had his face so perfectly under control, that few could say more, in distinct terms, of its expression, than that it smiled or that it pondered. It pondered now, intently. As the lark rose higher, he sank deeper in thought. As the lark poured out her melody clearer and stronger, he fell into a graver and profounder silence. At length, when the lark came headlong down, with an accumulating stream of song, and dropped among the green wheat near him, rippling in the breath of the morning like a river, he sprang up from his reverie, and looked round with a sudden smile, as courteous and as soft as if he had had numerous observers to propitiate; nor did he relapse, after being thus awakened; but clearing his face, like one who bethought himself that it might otherwise wrinkle and tell tales, went smiling on, as if for practice.
Perhaps with an eye to first impressions, Mr Carker was very carefully and trimly dressed, that morning. Though always somewhat formal, in his dress, in imitation of the great man whom he served, he stopped short of the extent of Mr Dombey's stiffness: at once perhaps because he knew it to be ludicrous, and because in doing so he found another means of expressing his sense of the difference and distance between them. Some people quoted him indeed, in this respect, as a pointed commentary, and not a flattering one, on his icy patron - but the world is prone to misconstruction, and Mr Carker was not accountable for its bad propensity.
Clean and florid: with his light complexion, fading as it were, in the sun, and his dainty step enhancing the softness of the turf: Mr Carker the Manager strolled about meadows, and green lanes, and glided among avenues of trees, until it was time to return to breakfast. Taking a nearer way back, Mr Carker pursued it, airing his teeth, and said aloud as he did so, 'Now to see the second Mrs Dombey!'
He had strolled beyond the town, and re-entered it by a pleasant walk, where there was a deep shade of leafy trees, and where there were a few benches here and there for those who chose to rest. It not being a place of general resort at any hour, and wearing at that time of the still morning the air of being quite deserted and retired, Mr Carker had it, or thought he had it, all to himself. So, with the whim of an idle man, to whom there yet remained twenty minutes for reaching a destination easily able in ten, Mr Carker threaded the great boles of the trees, and went passing in and out, before this one and behind that, weaving a chain of footsteps on the dewy ground.
But he found he was mistaken in supposing there was no one in the grove, for as he softly rounded the trunk of one large tree, on which the obdurate bark was knotted and overlapped like the hide of a rhinoceros or some kindred monster of the ancient days before the Flood, he saw an unexpected figure sitting on a bench near at hand, about which, in another moment, he would have wound the chain he was making.
It was that of a lady, elegantly dressed and very handsome, whose dark proud eyes were fixed upon the ground, and in whom some passion or struggle was raging. For as she sat looking down, she held a corner of her under lip within her mouth, her bosom heaved, her nostril quivered, her head trembled, indignant tears were on her cheek, and her foot was set upon the moss as though she would have crushed it into nothing. And yet almost the self-same glance that showed him this, showed him the self-same lady rising with a scornful air of weariness and lassitude, and turning away with nothing expressed in face or figure but careless beauty and imperious disdain.
A withered and very ugly old woman, dressed not so much like a gipsy as like any of that medley race of vagabonds who tramp about the country, begging, and stealing, and tinkering, and weaving rushes, by turns, or all together, had been observing the lady, too; for, as she rose, this second figure strangely confronting the first, scrambled up from the ground - out of it, it almost appeared - and stood in the way.
'Let me tell your fortune, my pretty lady,' said the old woman, munching with her jaws, as if the Death's Head beneath her yellow skin were impatient to get out.
'I can tell it for myself,' was the reply.
'Ay, ay, pretty lady; but not right. You didn't tell it right when you were sitting there. I see you! Give me a piece of silver, pretty lady, and I'll tell your fortune true. There's riches, pretty lady, in your face.'
'I know,' returned the lady, passing her with a dark smile, and a proud step. 'I knew it before.
'What! You won't give me nothing?' cried the old woman. 'You won't give me nothing to tell your fortune, pretty lady? How much will you give me to tell it, then? Give me something, or I'll call it after you!' croaked the old woman, passionately.
Mr Carker, whom the lady was about to pass close, slinking against his tree as she crossed to gain the path, advanced so as to meet her, and pulling off his hat as she went by, bade the old woman hold her peace. The lady acknowledged his interference with an inclination of the head, and went her way.
'You give me something then, or I'll call it after her!' screamed the old woman, throwing up her arms, and pressing forward against his outstretched hand. 'Or come,' she added, dropping her voice suddenly, looking at him earnestly, and seeming in a moment to forget the object of her wrath, 'give me something, or I'll call it after you! '
'After me, old lady!' returned the Manager, putting his hand in his pocket.
'Yes,' said the woman, steadfast in her scrutiny, and holding out her shrivelled hand. 'I know!'
'What do you know?' demanded Carker, throwing her a shilling. 'Do you know who the handsome lady is?'
Munching like that sailor's wife of yore, who had chestnuts In her lap, and scowling like the witch who asked for some in vain, the old woman picked the shilling up, and going backwards, like a crab, or like a heap of crabs: for her alternately expanding and contracting hands might have represented two of that species, and her creeping face, some half-a-dozen more: crouched on the veinous root of an old tree, pulled out a short black pipe from within the crown of her bonnet, lighted it with a match, and smoked in silence, looking fixedly at her questioner.
Mr Carker laughed, and turned upon his heel.
'Good!' said the old woman. 'One child dead, and one child living: one wife dead, and one wife coming. Go and meet her!'
In spite of himself, the Manager looked round again, and stopped. The old woman, who had not removed her pipe, and was munching and mumbling while she smoked, as if in conversation with an invisible familiar, pointed with her finger in the direction he was going, and laughed.
'What was that you said, Beldamite?' he demanded.
The woman mumbled, and chattered, and smoked, and still pointed before him; but remained silent Muttering a farewell that was not complimentary, Mr Carker pursued his way; but as he turned out of that place, and looked over his shoulder at the root of the old tree, he could yet see the finger pointing before him, and thought he heard the woman screaming, 'Go and meet her!'
Preparations for a choice repast were completed, he found, at the hotel; and Mr Dombey, and the Major, and the breakfast, were awaiting the ladies. Individual constitution has much to do with the development of such facts, no doubt; but in this case, appetite carried it hollow over the tender passion; Mr Dombey being very cool and collected, and the Major fretting and fuming in a state of violent heat and irritation. At length the door was thrown open by the Native, and, after a pause, occupied by her languishing along the gallery, a very blooming, but not very youthful lady, appeared.
'My dear Mr Dombey,' said the lady, 'I am afraid we are late, but Edith has been out already looking for a favourable point of view for a sketch, and kept me waiting for her. Falsest of Majors,' giving him her little finger, 'how do you do?'
'Mrs Skewton,' said Mr Dombey, 'let me gratify my friend Carker:' Mr Dombey unconsciously emphasised the word friend, as saying "no really; I do allow him to take credit for that distinction:" 'by presenting him to you. You have heard me mention Mr Carker.'
'I am charmed, I am sure,' said Mrs Skewton, graciously.
Mr Carker was charmed, of course. Would he have been more charmed on Mr Dombey's behalf, if Mrs Skewton had been (as he at first supposed her) the Edith whom they had toasted overnight?
'Why, where, for Heaven's sake, is Edith?' exclaimed Mrs Skewton, looking round. 'Still at the door, giving Withers orders about the mounting of those drawings! My dear Mr Dombey, will you have the kindness -
Mr Dombey was already gone to seek her. Next moment he returned, bearing on his arm the same elegantly dressed and very handsome lady whom Mr Carker had encountered underneath the trees.
'Carker - ' began Mr Dombey. But their recognition of each other was so manifest, that Mr Dombey stopped surprised.
'I am obliged to the gentleman,' said Edith, with a stately bend, 'for sparing me some annoyance from an importunate beggar just now.'
'I am obliged to my good fortune,' said Mr Carker, bowing low, 'for the opportunity of rendering so slight a service to one whose servant I am proud to be.'
As her eye rested on him for an instant, and then lighted on the ground, he saw in its bright and searching glance a suspicion that he had not come up at the moment of his interference, but had secretly observed her sooner. As he saw that, she saw in his eye that her distrust was not without foundation.
'Really,' cried Mrs Skewton, who had taken this opportunity of inspecting Mr Carker through her glass, and satisfying herself (as she lisped audibly to the Major) that he was all heart; 'really now, this is one of the most enchanting coincidences that I ever heard of. The idea! My dearest Edith, there is such an obvious destiny in it, that really one might almost be induced to cross one's arms upon one's frock, and say, like those wicked Turks, there is no What's-his-name but Thingummy, and What-you-may-call-it is his prophet!'
Edith designed no revision of this extraordinary quotation from the Koran, but Mr Dombey felt it necessary to offer a few polite remarks.
'It gives me great pleasure,' said Mr Dombey, with cumbrous gallantry, 'that a gentleman so nearly connected with myself as Carker is, should have had the honour and happiness of rendering the least assistance to Mrs Granger.' Mr Dombey bowed to her. 'But it gives me some pain, and it occasions me to be really envious of Carker;' he unconsciously laid stress on these words, as sensible that they must appear to involve a very surprising proposition; 'envious of Carker, that I had not that honour and that happiness myself.' Mr Dombey bowed again. Edith, saving for a curl of her lip, was motionless.
'By the Lord, Sir,' cried the Major, bursting into speech at sight of the waiter, who was come to announce breakfast, 'it's an extraordinary thing to me that no one can have the honour and happiness of shooting all such beggars through the head without being brought to book for it. But here's an arm for Mrs Granger if she'll do J. B. the honour to accept it; and the greatest service Joe can render you, Ma'am, just now, is, to lead you into table!'
With this, the Major gave his arm to Edith; Mr Dombey led the way with Mrs Skewton; Mrs Carker went last, smiling on the party.
'I am quite rejoiced, Mr Carker,' said the lady-mother, at breakfast, after another approving survey of him through her glass, 'that you have timed your visit so happily, as to go with us to-day. It is the most enchanting expedition!'
'Any expedition would be enchanting in such society,' returned Carker; 'but I believe it is, in itself, full of interest.'
'Oh!' cried Mrs Skewton, with a faded little scream of rapture, 'the Castle is charming! - associations of the Middle Ages - and all that - which is so truly exquisite. Don't you dote upon the Middle Ages, Mr Carker?'
'Very much, indeed,' said Mr Carker.
'Such charming times!' cried Cleopatra. 'So full of faith! So vigorous and forcible! So picturesque! So perfectly removed from commonplace! Oh dear! If they would only leave us a little more of the poetry of existence in these terrible days!'
Mrs Skewton was looking sharp after Mr Dombey all the time she said this, who was looking at Edith: who was listening, but who never lifted up her eyes.
'We are dreadfully real, Mr Carker,' said Mrs Skewton; 'are we not?'
Few people had less reason to complain of their reality than Cleopatra, who had as much that was false about her as could well go to the composition of anybody with a real individual existence. But Mr Carker commiserated our reality nevertheless, and agreed that we were very hardly used in that regard.
'Pictures at the Castle, quite divine!' said Cleopatra. 'I hope you dote upon pictures?'
'I assure you, Mrs Skewton,' said Mr Dombey, with solemn encouragement of his Manager, 'that Carker has a very good taste for pictures; quite a natural power of appreciating them. He is a very creditable artist himself. He will be delighted, I am sure, with Mrs Granger's taste and skill.'
'Damme, Sir!' cried Major Bagstock, 'my opinion is, that you're the admirable Carker, and can do anything.'
'Oh!' smiled Carker, with humility, 'you are much too sanguine, Major Bagstock. I can do very little. But Mr Dombey is so generous in his estimation of any trivial accomplishment a man like myself may find it almost necessary to acquire, and to which, in his very different sphere, he is far superior, that - ' Mr Carker shrugged his shoulders, deprecating further praise, and said no more.
All this time, Edith never raised her eyes, unless to glance towards her mother when that lady's fervent spirit shone forth in words. But as Carker ceased, she looked at Mr Dombey for a moment. For a moment only; but with a transient gleam of scornful wonder on her face, not lost on one observer, who was smiling round the board.
Mr Dombey caught the dark eyelash in its descent, and took the opportunity of arresting it.
'You have been to Warwick often, unfortunately?' said Mr Dombey.
'Several times.'
'The visit will be tedious to you, I am afraid.'
'Oh no; not at all.'
'Ah! You are like your cousin Feenix, my dearest Edith,' said Mrs Skewton. 'He has been to Warwick Castle fifty times, if he has been there once; yet if he came to Leamington to-morrow - I wish he would, dear angel! - he would make his fifty-second visit next day.'
'We are all enthusiastic, are we not, Mama?' said Edith, with a cold smile.
'Too much so, for our peace, perhaps, my dear,' returned her mother; 'but we won't complain. Our own emotions are our recompense. If, as your cousin Feenix says, the sword wears out the what's-its-name
'The scabbard, perhaps,' said Edith.
'Exactly - a little too fast, it is because it is bright and glowing, you know, my dearest love.'
Mrs Skewton heaved a gentle sigh, supposed to cast a shadow on the surface of that dagger of lath, whereof her susceptible bosom was the sheath: and leaning her head on one side, in the Cleopatra manner, looked with pensive affection on her darling child.
Edith had turned her face towards Mr Dombey when he first addressed her, and had remained in that attitude, while speaking to her mother, and while her mother spoke to her, as though offering him her attention, if he had anything more to say. There was something in the manner of this simple courtesy: almost defiant, and giving it the character of being rendered on compulsion, or as a matter of traffic to which she was a reluctant party again not lost upon that same observer who was smiling round the board. It set him thinking of her as he had first seen her, when she had believed herself to be alone among the trees.
Mr Dombey having nothing else to say, proposed - the breakfast being now finished, and the Major gorged, like any Boa Constrictor - that they should start. A barouche being in waiting, according to the orders of that gentleman, the two ladies, the Major and himself, took their seats in it; the Native and the wan page mounted the box, Mr Towlinson being left behind; and Mr Carker, on horseback, brought up the rear. Mr Carker cantered behind the carriage. at the distance of a hundred yards or so, and watched it, during all the ride, as if he were a cat, indeed, and its four occupants, mice. Whether he looked to one side of the road, or to the other - over distant landscape, with its smooth undulations, wind-mills, corn, grass, bean fields, wild-flowers, farm-yards, hayricks, and the spire among the wood - or upwards in the sunny air, where butterflies were sporting round his head, and birds were pouring out their songs - or downward, where the shadows of the branches interlaced, and made a trembling carpet on the road - or onward, where the overhanging trees formed aisles and arches, dim with the softened light that steeped through leaves - one corner of his eye was ever on the formal head of Mr Dombey, addressed towards him, and the feather in the bonnet, drooping so neglectfully and scornfully between them; much as he had seen the haughty eyelids droop; not least so, when the face met that now fronting it. Once, and once only, did his wary glance release these objects; and that was, when a leap over a low hedge, and a gallop across a field, enabled him to anticipate the carriage coming by the road, and to be standing ready, at the journey's end, to hand the ladies out. Then, and but then, he met her glance for an instant in her first surprise; but when he touched her, in alighting, with his soft white hand, it overlooked him altogether as before.
Mrs Skewton was bent on taking charge of Mr Carker herself, and showing him the beauties of the Castle. She was determined to have his arm, and the Major's too. It would do that incorrigible creature: who was the most barbarous infidel in point of poetry: good to be in such company. This chance arrangement left Mr Dombey at liberty to escort Edith: which he did: stalking before them through the apartments with a gentlemanly solemnity.
'Those darling byegone times, Mr Carker,' said Cleopatra, 'with their delicious fortresses, and their dear old dungeons, and their delightful places of torture, and their romantic vengeances, and their picturesque assaults and sieges, and everything that makes life truly charming! How dreadfully we have degenerated!'
'Yes, we have fallen off deplorably,' said Mr Carker.
The peculiarity of their conversation was, that Mrs Skewton, in spite of her ecstasies, and Mr Carker, in spite of his urbanity, were both intent on watching Mr Dombey and Edith. With all their conversational endowments, they spoke somewhat distractedly, and at random, in consequence.
'We have no Faith left, positively,' said Mrs Skewton, advancing her shrivelled ear; for Mr Dombey was saying something to Edith. 'We have no Faith in the dear old Barons, who were the most delightful creatures - or in the dear old Priests, who were the most warlike of men - or even in the days of that inestimable Queen Bess, upon the wall there, which were so extremely golden. Dear creature! She was all Heart And that charming father of hers! I hope you dote on Harry the Eighth!'
'I admire him very much,' said Carker.
'So bluff!' cried Mrs Skewton, 'wasn't he? So burly. So truly English. Such a picture, too, he makes, with his dear little peepy eyes, and his benevolent chin!'
'Ah, Ma'am!' said Carker, stopping short; 'but if you speak of pictures, there's a composition! What gallery in the world can produce the counterpart of that?'
As the smiling gentleman thus spake, he pointed through a doorway to where Mr Dombey and Edith were standing alone in the centre of another room.
They were not interchanging a word or a look. Standing together, arm in arm, they had the appearance of being more divided than if seas had rolled between them. There was a difference even in the pride of the two, that removed them farther from each other, than if one had been the proudest and the other the humblest specimen of humanity in all creation. He, self-important, unbending, formal, austere. She, lovely and graceful, in an uncommon degree, but totally regardless of herself and him and everything around, and spurning her own attractions with her haughty brow and lip, as if they were a badge or livery she hated. So unmatched were they, and opposed, so forced and linked together by a chain which adverse hazard and mischance had forged: that fancy might have imagined the pictures on the walls around them, startled by the unnatural conjunction, and observant of it in their several expressions. Grim knights and warriors looked scowling on them. A churchman, with his hand upraised, denounced the mockery of such a couple coming to God's altar. Quiet waters in landscapes, with the sun reflected in their depths, asked, if better means of escape were not at hand, was there no drowning left? Ruins cried, 'Look here, and see what We are, wedded to uncongenial Time!' Animals, opposed by nature, worried one another, as a moral to them. Loves and Cupids took to flight afraid, and Martyrdom had no such torment in its painted history of suffering.
Nevertheless, Mrs Skewton was so charmed by the sight to which Mr Carker invoked her attention, that she could not refraIn from saying, half aloud, how sweet, how very full of soul it was! Edith, overhearing, looked round, and flushed indignant scarlet to her hair.
'My dearest Edith knows I was admiring her!' said Cleopatra, tapping her, almost timidly, on the back with her parasol. 'Sweet pet!'
Again Mr Carker saw the strife he had witnessed so unexpectedly among the trees. Again he saw the haughty languor and indifference come over it, and hide it like a cloud.
She did not raise her eyes to him; but with a slight peremptory motion of them, seemed to bid her mother come near. Mrs Skewton thought it expedient to understand the hint, and advancing quickly, with her two cavaliers, kept near her daughter from that time,
Mr Carker now, having nothing to distract his attention, began to discourse upon the pictures and to select the best, and point them out to Mr Dombey: speaking with his usual familiar recognition of Mr Dombey's greatness, and rendering homage by adjusting his eye-glass for him, or finding out the right place in his catalogue, or holding his stick, or the like. These services did not so much originate with Mr Carker, in truth, as with Mr Dombey himself, who was apt to assert his chieftainship by saying, with subdued authority, and in an easy way - for him - 'Here, Carker, have the goodness to assist me, will you?' which the smiling gentleman always did with pleasure.
They made the tour of the pictures, the walls, crow's nest, and so forth; and as they were still one little party, and the Major was rather in the shade: being sleepy during the process of digestion: Mr Carker became communicative and agreeable. At first, he addressed himself for the most part to Mrs Skewton; but as that sensitive lady was in such ecstasies with the works of art, after the first quarter of an hour, that she could do nothing but yawn (they were such perfect inspirations, she observed as a reason for that mark of rapture), he transferred his attentions to Mr Dombey. Mr Dombey said little beyond an occasional 'Very true, Carker,' or 'Indeed, Carker,' but he tacitly encouraged Carker to proceed, and inwardly approved of his behaviour very much: deeming it as well that somebody should talk, and thinking that his remarks, which were, as one might say, a branch of the parent establishment, might amuse Mrs Granger. Mr Carker, who possessed an excellent discretion, never took the liberty of addressing that lady, direct; but she seemed to listen, though she never looked at him; and once or twice, when he was emphatic in his peculiar humility, the twilight smile stole over her face, not as a light, but as a deep black shadow.
Warwick Castle being at length pretty well exhausted, and the Major very much so: to say nothing of Mrs Skewton, whose peculiar demonstrations of delight had become very frequent Indeed: the carriage was again put In requisition, and they rode to several admired points of view In the neighbourhood. Mr Dombey ceremoniously observed of one of these, that a sketch, however slight, from the fair hand of Mrs Granger, would be a remembrance to him of that agreeable day: though he wanted no artificial remembrance, he was sure (here Mr Dombey made another of his bows), which he must always highly value. Withers the lean having Edith's sketch-book under his arm, was immediately called upon by Mrs Skewton to produce the same: and the carriage stopped, that Edith might make the drawing, which Mr Dombey was to put away among his treasures.
'But I am afraid I trouble you too much,' said Mr Dombey.
'By no means. Where would you wish it taken from?' she answered, turning to him with the same enforced attention as before.
Mr Dombey, with another bow, which cracked the starch in his cravat, would beg to leave that to the Artist.
'I would rather you chose for yourself,' said Edith.
'Suppose then,' said Mr Dombey, 'we say from here. It appears a good spot for the purpose, or - Carker, what do you think?'
There happened to be in the foreground, at some little distance, a grove of trees, not unlike that In which Mr Carker had made his chain of footsteps in the morning, and with a seat under one tree, greatly resembling, in the general character of its situation, the point where his chain had broken.
'Might I venture to suggest to Mrs Granger,' said Carker, 'that that is an interesting - almost a curious - point of view?'
She followed the direction of his riding-whip with her eyes, and raised them quickly to his face. It was the second glance they had exchanged since their introduction; and would have been exactly like the first, but that its expression was plainer.
'Will you like that?' said Edith to Mr Dombey.
'I shall be charmed,' said Mr Dombey to Edith.
Therefore the carriage was driven to the spot where Mr Dombey was to be charmed; and Edith, without moving from her seat, and openIng her sketch-book with her usual proud indifference, began to sketch.
'My pencils are all pointless,' she said, stopping and turning them over.
'Pray allow me,' said Mr Dombey. 'Or Carker will do it better, as he understands these things. Carker, have the goodness to see to these pencils for Mrs Granger.
Mr Carker rode up close to the carriage-door on Mrs Granger's side, and letting the rein fall on his horse's neck, took the pencils from her hand with a smile and a bow, and sat in the saddle leisurely mending them. Having done so, he begged to be allowed to hold them, and to hand them to her as they were required; and thus Mr Carker, with many commendations of Mrs Granger's extraordinary skill - especially in trees - remained - close at her side, looking over the drawing as she made it. Mr Dombey in the meantime stood bolt upright in the carriage like a highly respectable ghost, looking on too; while Cleopatra and the Major dallied as two ancient doves might do.
'Are you satisfied with that, or shall I finish it a little more?' said Edith, showing the sketch to Mr Dombey.
Mr Dombey begged that it might not be touched; it was perfection.
'It is most extraordinary,' said Carker, bringing every one of his red gums to bear upon his praise. 'I was not prepared for anything so beautiful, and so unusual altogether.'
This might have applied to the sketcher no less than to the sketch; but Mr Carker's manner was openness itself - not as to his mouth alone, but as to his whole spirit. So it continued to be while the drawing was laid aside for Mr Dombey, and while the sketching materials were put up; then he handed in the pencils (which were received with a distant acknowledgment of his help, but without a look), and tightening his rein, fell back, and followed the carriage again.
Thinking, perhaps, as he rode, that even this trivial sketch had been made and delivered to its owner, as if it had been bargained for and bought. Thinking, perhaps, that although she had assented with such perfect readiness to his request, her haughty face, bent over the drawing, or glancing at the distant objects represented in it, had been the face of a proud woman, engaged in a sordid and miserable transaction. Thinking, perhaps, of such things: but smiling certainly, and while he seemed to look about him freely, in enjoyment of the air and exercise, keeping always that sharp corner of his eye upon the carriage.
A stroll among the haunted ruins of Kenilworth, and more rides to more points of view: most of which, Mrs Skewton reminded Mr Dombey, Edith had already sketched, as he had seen in looking over her drawings: brought the day's expedition to a close. Mrs Skewton and Edith were driven to their own lodgings; Mr Carker was graciously invited by Cleopatra to return thither with Mr Dombey and the Major, in the evening, to hear some of Edith's music; and the three gentlemen repaired to their hotel to dinner.
The dinner was the counterpart of yesterday's, except that the Major was twenty-four hours more triumphant and less mysterious. Edith was toasted again. Mr Dombey was again agreeably embarrassed. And Mr Carker was full of interest and praise.
There were no other visitors at Mrs Skewton's. Edith's drawings were strewn about the room, a little more abundantly than usual perhaps; and Withers, the wan page, handed round a little stronger tea. The harp was there; the piano was there; and Edith sang and played. But even the music was played by Edith to Mr Dombey's order, as it were, in the same uncompromising way. As thus.
'Edith, my dearest love,' said Mrs Skewton, half an hour after tea, 'Mr Dombey is dying to hear you, I know.'
'Mr Dombey has life enough left to say so for himself, Mama, I have no doubt.'
'I shall be immensely obliged,' said Mr Dombey.
'What do you wish?'
'Piano?' hesitated Mr Dombey.
'Whatever you please. You have only to choose.
Accordingly, she began with the piano. It was the same with the harp; the same with her singing; the same with the selection of the pieces that she sang and played. Such frigid and constrained, yet prompt and pointed acquiescence with the wishes he imposed upon her, and on no one else, was sufficiently remarkable to penetrate through all the mysteries of picquet, and impress itself on Mr Carker's keen attention. Nor did he lose sight of the fact that Mr Dombey was evidently proud of his power, and liked to show it.
Nevertheless, Mr Carker played so well - some games with the Major, and some with Cleopatra, whose vigilance of eye in respect of Mr Dombey and Edith no lynx could have surpassed - that he even heightened his position in the lady-mother's good graces; and when on taking leave he regretted that he would be obliged to return to London next morning, Cleopatra trusted: community of feeling not being met with every day: that it was far from being the last time they would meet.
'I hope so,' said Mr Carker, with an expressive look at the couple in the distance, as he drew towards the door, following the Major. 'I think so.'
Mr Dombey, who had taken a stately leave of Edith, bent, or made some approach to a bend, over Cleopatra's couch, and said, in a low voice:
'I have requested Mrs Granger's permission to call on her to-morrow morning - for a purpose - and she has appointed twelve o'clock. May I hope to have the pleasure of finding you at home, Madam, afterwards?'
Cleopatra was so much fluttered and moved, by hearing this, of course, incomprehensible speech, that she could only shut her eyes, and shake her head, and give Mr Dombey her hand; which Mr Dombey, not exactly knowing what to do with, dropped.
'Dombey, come along!' cried the Major, looking in at the door. 'Damme, Sir, old Joe has a great mind to propose an alteration in the name of the Royal Hotel, and that it should be called the Three Jolly Bachelors, in honour of ourselves and Carker.' With this, the Major slapped Mr Dombey on the back, and winking over his shoulder at the ladies, with a frightful tendency of blood to the head, carried him off.
Mrs Skewton reposed on her sofa, and Edith sat apart, by her harp, in silence. The mother, trifling with her fan, looked stealthily at the daughter more than once, but the daughter, brooding gloomily with downcast eyes, was not to be disturbed.
Thus they remained for a long hour, without a word, until Mrs Skewton's maid appeared, according to custom, to prepare her gradually for night. At night, she should have been a skeleton, with dart and hour-glass, rather than a woman, this attendant; for her touch was as the touch of Death. The painted object shrivelled underneath her hand; the form collapsed, the hair dropped off, the arched dark eyebrows changed to scanty tufts of grey; the pale lips shrunk, the skin became cadaverous and loose; an old, worn, yellow, nodding woman, with red eyes, alone remained in Cleopatra's place, huddled up, like a slovenly bundle, in a greasy flannel gown.
The very voice was changed, as it addressed Edith, when they were alone again.
'Why don't you tell me,' it said sharply, 'that he is coming here to-morrow by appointment?'
'Because you know it,' returned Edith, 'Mother.'
The mocking emphasis she laid on that one word!
'You know he has bought me,' she resumed. 'Or that he will, to-morrow. He has considered of his bargain; he has shown it to his friend; he is even rather proud of it; he thinks that it will suit him, and may be had sufficiently cheap; and he will buy to-morrow. God, that I have lived for this, and that I feel it!'
Compress into one handsome face the conscious self-abasement, and the burning indignation of a hundred women, strong in passion and in pride; and there it hid itself with two white shuddering arms.
'What do you mean?' returned the angry mother. 'Haven't you from a child - '
'A child!' said Edith, looking at her, 'when was I a child? What childhood did you ever leave to me? I was a woman - artful, designing, mercenary, laying snares for men - before I knew myself, or you, or even understood the base and wretched aim of every new display I learnt You gave birth to a woman. Look upon her. She is in her pride tonight'
And as she spoke, she struck her hand upon her beautiful bosom, as though she would have beaten down herself
'Look at me,' she said, 'who have never known what it is to have an honest heart, and love. Look at me, taught to scheme and plot when children play; and married in my youth - an old age of design - to one for whom I had no feeling but indifference. Look at me, whom he left a widow, dying before his inheritance descended to him - a judgment on you! well deserved! - and tell me what has been my life for ten years since.'
'We have been making every effort to endeavour to secure to you a good establishment,' rejoined her mother. 'That has been your life. And now you have got it.'
'There is no slave in a market: there is no horse in a fair: so shown and offered and examined and paraded, Mother, as I have been, for ten shameful years,' cried Edith, with a burning brow, and the same bitter emphasis on the one word. 'Is it not so? Have I been made the bye-word of all kinds of men? Have fools, have profligates, have boys, have dotards, dangled after me, and one by one rejected me, and fallen off, because you were too plain with all your cunning: yes, and too true, with all those false pretences: until we have almost come to be notorious? The licence of look and touch,' she said, with flashing eyes, 'have I submitted to it, in half the places of resort upon the map of England? Have I been hawked and vended here and there, until the last grain of self-respect is dead within me, and I loathe myself? Has been my late childhood? I had none before. Do not tell me that I had, tonight of all nights in my life!'
'You might have been well married,' said her mother, 'twenty times at least, Edith, if you had given encouragement enough.'
'No! Who takes me, refuse that I am, and as I well deserve to be,' she answered, raising her head, and trembling in her energy of shame and stormy pride, 'shall take me, as this man does, with no art of mine put forth to lure him. He sees me at the auction, and he thinks it well to buy me. Let him! When he came to view me - perhaps to bid - he required to see the roll of my accomplishments. I gave it to him. When he would have me show one of them, to justify his purchase to his men, I require of him to say which he demands, and I exhibit it. I will do no more. He makes the purchase of his own will, and with his own sense of its worth, and the power of his money; and I hope it may never disappoint him. I have not vaunted and pressed the bargain; neither have you, so far as I have been able to prevent you.
'You talk strangely to-night, Edith, to your own Mother.'
'It seems so to me; stranger to me than you,' said Edith. 'But my education was completed long ago. I am too old now, and have fallen too low, by degrees, to take a new course, and to stop yours, and to help myself. The germ of all that purifies a woman's breast, and makes it true and good, has never stirred in mine, and I have nothing else to sustain me when I despise myself.' There had been a touching sadness in her voice, but it was gone, when she went on to say, with a curled lip, 'So, as we are genteel and poor, I am content that we should be made rich by these means; all I say is, I have kept the only purpose I have had the strength to form - I had almost said the power, with you at my side, Mother - and have not tempted this man on.'
'This man! You speak,' said her mother, 'as if you hated him.'
'And you thought I loved him, did you not?' she answered, stopping on her way across the room, and looking round. 'Shall I tell you,' she continued, with her eyes fixed on her mother, 'who already knows us thoroughly, and reads us right, and before whom I have even less of self-respect or confidence than before my own inward self; being so much degraded by his knowledge of me?'
'This is an attack, I suppose,' returned her mother coldly, 'on poor, unfortunate what's-his-name - Mr Carker! Your want of self-respect and confidence, my dear, in reference to that person (who is very agreeable, it strikes me), is not likely to have much effect on your establishment. Why do you look at me so hard? Are you ill?'
Edith suddenly let fall her face, as if it had been stung, and while she pressed her hands upon it, a terrible tremble crept over her whole frame. It was quickly gone; and with her usual step, she passed out of the room.
The maid who should have been a skeleton, then reappeared, and giving one arm to her mistress, who appeared to have taken off her manner with her charms, and to have put on paralysis with her flannel gown, collected the ashes of Cleopatra, and carried them away in the other, ready for tomorrow's revivification.
经理卡克先生跟云雀一道起床，走出屋外，在夏天的晨光中散步。他在漫步闲游时，皱着眉头，沉思默想着；但是他的沉思似乎没有象云雀飞得那么高或者向着那个方向飞去；倒不如说它们一直待在地面老窠的附近，在尘土和虫子中间东寻西找，但是在看不见的高空中鸣叫的鸟儿，没有一只能飞得比卡克先生的思想更为遥远，更不是人的肉眼所能看到的。他完全控制住脸部的表情，因此人们除了能看出他是在微笑或他正在沉思外，很少有人能用清楚的语言来说明他的表情中还包含着一些什么内容。从他现在的表情来看，他正在聚精会神地深深思考着。云雀愈飞愈高，他的思想则愈陷愈深。云雀的曲调唱得愈来愈清脆，愈来愈嘹亮，他则沉浸在愈来愈庄严、愈来愈深切的沉默中。最后，云雀带着愈流愈急的急流般的歌声，头朝地猛冲下来，停落在他近旁一块在晨风中像河流般起着波浪的绿色麦田中，这时候他从他的遐想中惊醒过来，看看四周，突然彬彬有礼、和蔼可亲地微笑了一下，仿佛他面前有许多观众需要他去抚慰似的。他清醒以后，没有再陷入沉思，而是抹抹脸孔，好像唯恐不这样做，它就会起皱纹，泄露心中的秘密似的；他一边走一边微笑，仿佛在做练习一样。
也许是希望留下一个良好的初次印象，卡克先生这天早晨穿得很讲究，很整齐。虽然他的服装模仿他所服侍的那位伟大人物，经常带有几分谨严的特色，但他没有达到董贝先生那种拘束呆板的程度；这也许一方面是因为他知道那样未免滑稽可笑，另一方面是因为他觉得正好可以通过这另一种方式来表示他明白他们之间存在的差别与距离。确实，有些人认为，他在这一方面是他的冷若冰霜的恩主的确切的注释，而不是谄媚的注释。——但是世界上的人们总是爱歪曲事实，卡克先生不能对这种恶癖负责。
经理卡克先生衣着整洁，华丽；脸色苍白，仿佛在阳光下褪了色似的；他那优雅的步伐更显出了草皮的柔软；他在草地和绿色的小路上漫步闲游，并沿着林荫道静悄悄地走去，直到该回去吃早饭的时候。卡克先生选了一条近路回去，一边走一边让牙齿露出来透透风，并高声说道，“现在去见第二位董贝夫人啦！”
他已走出了城镇的地界之外，回去走的是一条令人愉快的道路，树叶茂盛的林木投下了深沉的荫影，间或可以看到几条长凳，人们可以随意坐下休息。这不是一个时时都有人前去观光的胜地；在这静悄悄的早晨，它显得十分荒凉、僻静。这个地方就只有卡克先生一个人，或者他认为就只有他一个人在领略这里的一切风光。卡克先生这时的心情很像是一个游手好闲的人，本来毫不费劲就可以在十分钟之内到达目的地的，却觉得还有二十分钟可以让他磨蹭，所以他在粗大的树干中间漫游，走进走出，从这株树的前面绕到那株树的后面，在有露水的地面上编织成一个脚步的链条。
可是他发现，他原以为这个小树林里没有其他任何人的想法错了，因为当他轻轻地绕过一株大树的树干（这株大树古老的树皮形成了好多木瘤和相互叠盖的鳞片，就像犀牛或大洪水以前古代某些类似怪物的皮一样）时，他出乎意料地看见一个人坐在近旁的一条长凳上，本来他准备沿着他走的链条方向绕过它的。
这是一位衣着优雅，长得十分漂亮的女士；她的高傲的黑眼睛正凝视着地面，心中似乎正迸发出某种激情或进行着某种斗争；因为，当她坐在那里看着地面的时候，她把下嘴唇的一角咬在嘴里，胸脯上下起伏，鼻孔翕动，脑袋颤抖，愤怒的眼泪流到脸颊上，一只脚践踏着苔藓，好像她要把它踩得粉碎似的；但是他刚一看到这个情景，这位女士就带着疲乏和厌倦的神色高傲地站了起来，离开了长凳，在她的脸孔和身形中表露出来的是对她自己的美貌毫不在意和藐视一切的傲慢态度。
这时一直在观察这位女士的还有一位皮肤干枯起皱、十分丑陋的老太婆；从她的衣着来看，与其像吉卜赛人，倒不如更像那些在全国各地漂泊，轮流或同时从事乞讨、偷窃、补锅、用灯芯草编筐，队伍极为混杂的流浪者当中的一个；因为，当这位女士站起来的时候，这位老太婆就从地上爬起来——几乎好像是从地底下爬起来似的——，奇怪地走到她的前面，并挡住她的道路。
“让我来给您算个命吧，漂亮的夫人，”老太婆说道，她的下巴一动一动地有力咀嚼着，仿佛她黄色皮肤下面的骷髅迫不及待地想要跳出来似的。
“我自己能算，”她回答道。
“哎呀，漂亮的夫人，您算得不对。您坐在那里的时候没有算对。我看着您！给我一块银币吧，漂亮的夫人，我会算出您真正的命运。从您的脸孔看，漂亮的夫人，财富正在等着您呢！”
“我知道，”那位女士苦笑了一下，并迈着高傲的步伐，从她的身边走过，“我早已知道这一点了。”
“怎么！您什么也不给我吗？”老太婆喊道，“我给您算了命，您却什么也不给我吗，漂亮的夫人？那么，我不给您算命，您要给我多少？您得给我点什么，要不我就在您背后叫喊！”老太婆气急败坏地用哭丧的声音喊道。
这位女士将要从卡克先生的身边走过；当她从斜对面向小路走来的时候，他就离开树，迎面走上前去；当她走过时，他脱下了帽子，命令老太婆住嘴，这位女士点了点头，感谢他的干预，然后继续向前走去。
“那么您给我一点什么吧，要不我就在她背后叫喊！”老太婆尖声喊道，一边举起胳膊，向前推开他伸出的手。“要不，您听着，”她接着说，但这时她却突然降低了声音，聚精会神地看着他，顷刻之间似乎忘掉了她愤怒的对象似的，“给我一点什么吧，要不我就在您背后叫喊！”
“在我背后叫喊，老婆子！”经理把手伸进衣袋，回答道。
“是的，”老太婆眼光直盯盯地没有离开他，并伸出她那皱巴巴的手，说道，“我知道！”
“你知道什么？”卡克抛给她一个先令，问道，“你知道这位漂亮的夫人是谁？”
老太婆就像古时候在膝盖上放着栗子的水手的妻子一样有力地咀嚼着，又像那要讨吃几个栗子而没有讨到的女巫一样怒目而视①；她捡起先令，又像一只螃蟹或一堆螃蟹（因为她那两只交替着一伸一缩的手可以代表两只螃蟹，她那蠕动着的脸孔又可以代表六只）一样退回来，蹲在一个满是木纹的老树根上，从帽顶里抽出一支短短的黑烟管，划了一支火柴，点着了它，默默地抽着烟，同时凝视着向她问话的人。卡克先生大笑着，转过了身子。
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①莎士比亚戏剧《麦克佩斯》第一幕第三场：
女巫甲：“一个水手的妻子坐在那儿吃栗子，啃呀啃呀啃呀地啃着。‘给我吃一点，’我说。‘滚开，妖巫！’那个吃鱼吃肉的贱人喊起来了。……”
“好吧！”老太婆说道，“一个孩子死了，一个孩子活着。一个老婆死了，一个老婆来了。去迎接她吧！”
经理不由自主地又回过头去，停住了脚步。老太婆没有从嘴里取出烟管，一边抽烟，一边有力地咀嚼着和嘟囔着，仿佛在跟一位看不见的亲友谈话似的，同时用指头指着他前进的方向，大笑着。
“你说些什么，疯子？”他问道。
老太婆闭着嘴用牙根咀嚼着，牙齿发出卡嗒卡嗒的响声，同时抽着烟，并依旧指着前方，但一句话也不说。卡克先生不怎么客气地说了声再见就继续向前走去；但是当他走到拐弯的地方，转过头去望到那个老树根时，他仍然看到那个指头指着前方，并觉得听到老太婆在尖声叫道：“去迎接她吧！”
他到旅馆时看到，一餐精美的宴席已经准备就绪；董贝先生、少校以及早餐都在等待着两位女士。无疑，个人的素质与这类事情的发展有很大关系；但是在目前的情况下，食欲完全超出于柔情之上。董贝先生很冷静、沉着，少校则非常激动和生气，他焦急不安，怒气冲冲。终于，门被本地人推开了；过了一段时间，一位花枝招展、但却不很年轻的夫人出现了；刚才那段时间就是她有气无力地慢慢走过走廊时占去的。
“我亲爱的董贝先生，”夫人说道，“我担心我们来迟了，但是伊迪丝一早就跑出去寻找一个景致优美的地方画画，让我一直在等着她。虚伪透顶的少校，”她向他伸出一个小指头，“你好吗？”
“斯丘顿夫人，”董贝先生说道，“请允许我来向您介绍一下我的朋友卡克，他将对此感到极为荣幸，”董贝先生不由自主地在“朋友”这个词上加重了语气，好像是要说，“并不是真的如此，我是允许他享受这份特殊光荣。您过去听我说到过卡克先生的。”
“真的，我高兴极了。”斯丘顿夫人彬彬有礼、和蔼可亲地说道。
卡克先生自然也高兴极了。如果斯丘顿夫人是（他最初以为她是）他们昨夜曾为她举杯祝酒的伊迪丝，他不是会为董贝先生感到更大的高兴吗？
“啊，我的天，伊迪丝在哪里？”斯丘顿夫人向四周看看，高声喊道。“她还在门口嘱咐威瑟斯把这些画镶嵌在什么镜框里的事呢！我亲爱的董贝先生，是不是劳驾您——”
董贝先生早已出去找她。不一会儿，他回来了，胳膊里挽着卡克先生在树下遇见的那位衣着优雅、长得十分漂亮的女士。
“卡克——”董贝先生开始说道；但是他们早已认识了，这一点是这么明显，董贝先生惊奇地停住了。
“我很感谢这位先生，”伊迪丝庄严地低下了头，说道，“他使我刚才摆脱了一个乞丐无休无止的讨厌纠缠。”
“我很感谢我的好运气，”卡克先生深深地鞠着躬，说道，“使我有机会向一个我自豪能成为她奴仆的人做了微不足道的一点小事。”
当她的眼光在他身上停了一刹那，随即又落到地上的时候，他在这明亮和敏锐的一瞥中看出一种怀疑：他并不是在进行干预的时候，刚刚到达那里，而是先前就在悄悄地观察她的。当他看出这一点的时候，她在他的眼光中看到：她的猜疑并不是没有根据的。
“真的，”斯丘顿夫人曾在这些时间中通过长柄眼镜细细观察卡克先生，并称心满意地说，他怀有一片善良的心意（她是对少校这么说的，虽然口齿不清，但仍能听得出来），“真的，这是我平生听到过的最美妙动人的巧合中的一个。想一想吧！我最亲爱的伊迪丝，这分明是命中注定的，真叫人想把两手交叉在胸前，像那些邪恶的土耳其人一样说，除了——那叫什么来的以外，那就没有——他叫什么名字——和你可以在他的预言者里称为什么的了！”
伊迪丝不屑校正这句引自可兰经、被引得非常可笑的引语，但董贝先生感到有必要说几句客气话。
“这使我感到万分高兴，”董贝先生很做作地向女士们献示殷勤，说道，“一位像卡克这样跟我本人关系这么密切的先生能光荣和幸福地给格兰杰夫人提供一点小小的帮助。”董贝先生向她鞠了一个躬，“但这使我感到有些痛苦，说真的，我妒嫉卡克，”他不知不觉地在这几个字上加重了语气，好像他知道这一定使人感到这是个很惊人的说法似的；“我妒嫉卡克，因为我本人不曾有那样的光荣和幸福。”董贝先生又鞠了一个躬。伊迪丝除了撇了一下嘴外，一动也不动。
“真的，先生，”少校看到侍者前来通知去吃早饭，就立刻打开了话匣子，喊道，“使我感到惊奇的是，没有一个人能光荣和幸福地用枪射穿这些乞丐的头而不被抓去讯问的。但是这里有一只胳膊愿意为格兰杰夫人效劳，如果她肯接受它，把这份光荣赐给乔•白的话；现在乔能为您作出的最大的效劳，夫人，就是领您到餐桌去！”
少校说了这些话，就把胳膊递给伊迪丝；董贝先生和斯丘顿夫人在前面领路；卡克先生走在最后，笑嘻嘻地望着这些人。
“我十分高兴，卡克先生，”母亲夫人吃早饭时通过她的长柄眼镜又对他赞赏地细细观察了一次之后，说道，“您这次访问，正巧碰上和我们今天一起出去游览。这是一次令人心醉神往的旅行！”
“跟这样一些高贵的人们在一起，不论到哪里去旅行，都是令人心醉神往的，”卡克回答道，“但我相信，这次旅行本身就是充满了兴趣的。”
“啊！”斯丘顿夫人显得欢天喜地而又有气无力地小声尖叫了一声，然后大声说道，“城堡是多么可爱啊！——使人联想起中世纪——以及所有这一类事情——真是优美极了。难道您不特别喜欢中世纪吗，卡克先生？”
“喜欢极了，确实是这样，”卡克先生说道。
“多么可爱的时代啊！”克利奥佩特拉喊道，“是那么充满了信仰！是那么生机蓬勃，气势磅礴！是那么美丽如画！是那么彻底地涤除了庸俗习气！啊，天啊！如果能为我们这可怕的时代只要稍微多留下一些诗意的话，那该多好啊！”
斯丘顿夫人在说这些话的时候，一直在敏锐地注视着董贝先生；董贝先生在看着伊迪丝；伊迪丝则在听着，但没有抬起眼睛。
“我们是可怕地真实，卡克先生，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“是不是？”
很少有人能比克利奥佩特拉有更少的理由抱怨他们的真实性了，因为凡是能进入任何一个真实存在的人的身体组成部分中去的虚假的东西，她身上都有了。①但是卡克先生仍对我们的真实性表示惋惜，并同意我们在这方面受到了很苛刻的待遇。
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①这里指斯丘顿夫人已衰老，身体中的许多器官已不能真正起作用了。
“城堡里的图画真是绝世佳作！”克利奥佩特拉说道，“我希望，您很喜欢图画吧？”
“您可以相信我，斯丘顿夫人，”董贝先生一本正经地鼓励着他的经理，说道，“卡克对图画有着很高的审美力，很有鉴赏图画的天赋才能，他本人还是一个很可称许的画家。我相信，他看到格兰杰夫人的绘画风格和技巧将会感到很高兴的。”
“他妈的，先生！”白格斯托克少校喊道，“我看，您这卡克真是了不起，什么都行！”
“哦！”卡克谦逊地微笑着说道，“您太夸奖我了，白格斯托克少校！我能做的事很少，可是董贝先生在评价像我这样的人也许感到几乎有必要获得的微不足道的技能时，总是这么宽宏大量，而他本人在完全不同的领域中是远远超出于我之上的——”卡克先生耸耸肩膀，表示请求他免去进一步的恭维，就没有再说别的话了。
在这些时间中，伊迪丝一直没有抬起眼睛，只有当她母亲在语言中闪发出热烈的情绪时，她才向那位老夫人看一眼。但是当卡克先生停止讲话的时候，她向董贝先生看了一秒钟。仅仅是一秒钟，但是在她的脸上却匆匆地掠过了一丝轻蔑的疑讶的表情，不过一位笑嘻嘻地坐在餐桌旁的人注意到它了。
当她低下黑色的眼睫毛时，董贝先生抓住时机，把她的眼光给捕捉住了。
“很遗憾，您过去常去沃里克吗？”董贝先生问道。
“去过几次。”
“我担心，这次参观您会觉得沉闷乏味吧。”
“哦不，一点也不。”
“啊，你就像你的表哥菲尼克斯，我最亲爱的伊迪丝，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“他到沃里克城堡去过一次，以后就又去了五十次。可是如果他明天到了莱明顿——我真希望他能来啊，亲爱的天使！——那么第二天他就会进行第五十二次参观了。”
“我们都是很热心的人，是不是，妈妈？”伊迪丝冷冷地微笑着说道。
“也许是过分热心了，使我们都不能安静下来了，我亲爱的，”母亲回答道，“但是我们不用抱怨。我们兴高采烈的情绪就是最好的报酬。就像你的表哥菲尼克斯所说的，如果剑磨破了——叫什么来的——”
“也许是鞘吧，”伊迪丝说。
“一点不错。——如果剑把鞘磨破得太快一点儿，你知道，我亲爱的，那是由于剑锃亮发光的缘故。”
斯丘顿夫人轻轻地叹了一口气，好像想要在这把锋利的剑的表面投下一个阴影，使它那锃亮的光芒暗淡一些似的；她的敏感的心就是这把剑的鞘；然后她仿效克利奥佩特拉的姿态，头歪向一边，沉思而又亲切地看着她的可爱的孩子。
当董贝先生第一次对伊迪丝说话的时候，伊迪丝把脸朝着他；以后当她跟母亲讲话的时候，以及当她母亲跟话讲话的时候，她都一直保持着这个姿态，好像如果他还有什么话要对她说，她就一直在对他显示出她的殷勤似的；在这纯粹出于礼貌的姿态中包含着一些几乎是对抗的东西，或者说是一项她无可奈何勉强参加的交易。这种情景同样被笑嘻嘻地坐在餐桌旁的那一个人注意到了。这使他想起了他第一次看到她时的情形，那时她以为树林里就只有她一个人。
董贝先生没有其他的话要说，就建议启程——这时早餐已经完毕，少校像蟒蛇一样，把肚子塞得饱饱的——。遵照董贝先生的嘱咐，一辆双马四轮大马车正在等待着；两位夫人，少校和他本人坐在马车里面；本地人和脸无血色的侍童登上车夫的座位，托林森先生留在家中；卡克先生骑着马，跟随在后面。
卡克先生与马车相距一百码左右，在后面让马慢跑着；在整个行程中他一直在注视着马车，仿佛他真的是只猫，马车里的四位乘客是耗子似的。不论他是看着道路的这一边还是看着那一边，——是看着远方的风景：波浪般起伏的丘冈、风车、谷物、青草、豆田、野花、农场、干草堆、树林上空的尖塔，——还是向上看着阳光灿烂的天空：蝴蝶正在他头的四周翩翩飞舞，鸟儿正在鸣唱着歌曲，——还是向下看着树枝的阴影相互交错，在路上形成了一条摇摇晃晃的地毯，——还是直看着前面：悬垂的树木形成了长廊和拱门，只有从树叶缝中渗透进来一点微弱的光线，因而阴暗不明，——不论他向哪里看，他的一只眼角总是一直注视着朝向他的董贝先生的拘板的头，注视着在他们中间旁若无人、目空一切地低垂着的女帽上的羽毛，那高傲的神态就跟他不久前他看到她低垂着眼皮时的神态一模一样，也跟她面对着现在坐在对面的人时的神态丝毫不差。有一次，也只有那一次，他留神的眼光离开了这些注视的对象；当时他跳过一道低矮的树篱，越过田野奔驰，以便能赶过马车，抢先站在旅途终点，把夫人们搀扶出来。那时，仅仅在那时，当她起初表示出惊讶时，他在瞬刻间碰到了她的眼光；但是当他用柔嫩的白手接她下车时，她跟先前一样，假装根本没有看见他。
斯丘顿夫人坚决要由她本人来照顾卡克先生，并向他指点城堡的美景。她决心要由他的胳膊挽着她，也由少校的胳膊挽着她走。对于那位不可救药的人物，那位在诗的领域中最不开化的野蛮人来说，他处在这样的伴侣中间是能得到益处的。这个偶然的安排使董贝先生可以随意护送伊迪丝。他也就这样做了。他以一个上流社会人士庄严的风度，高视阔步地在他们前面穿过城堡的各个宫殿。
“这些以往的岁月是多么美妙啊，卡克先生，”克利奥佩特拉说道，“这些雄伟壮丽的堡垒，这些可爱古老的地牢，这些有趣的拷问室，还有那情节离奇的复仇，美丽如画的袭击与围攻，以及所有使生活真正可爱的东西！我们现在已经堕落得多么可怕啊！”
“对，我们已经可悲地退化了，”卡克先生说道。
他们的谈话有一个特点，就是：斯丘顿夫人尽管大喜若狂，卡克先生尽管文雅有礼，他们两人却全都专心致志地注视着董贝先生和伊迪丝。虽然他们都善于交谈，但他们却都有些心不在焉，结果都是信口开河，东拉西扯。
“我们已完全失去了信仰，”斯丘顿夫人说道，一边把她的满是皱纹的耳朵向前凑近一些，因为董贝先生正在对伊迪丝说什么，“我们已失去对那些亲爱的老男爵的信仰，他们是最讨人喜欢的人物；我们也失去了对那些亲爱的老教士的信仰，他们是最好战的人们；甚至我们也已失去了对难以估价的女王贝斯①的时代的信仰——她就在那里的墙上——，那真是多么可贵的黄金时代啊！亲爱的人儿，她充满了善良的心意！还有她那可爱的父亲，我希望您非常喜爱哈里八世②吧！”
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①指英国女王伊利莎白一世（ElizabethⅠ，公元1533—1603年，在位时间为1558—1603年，共45年）。
②指英国国王亨利八世（公元1491—1547年，在位时间为1509—1547年）。
“我十分钦佩他，”卡克说道。
“多么直率！”斯丘顿夫人喊道，“是不是？多么魁伟！是个真正的英国人。那可爱的眯缝着的小眼睛和那仁慈的下巴，构成了多么美的一幅肖像啊！”
“啊，夫人！”卡克突然停住，说道，“可是您既然谈到了图画，那您看前面就有一幅！世界上有哪一个画廊能陈列出这样的作品呢？”
这位笑嘻嘻的先生一边说，一边通过门口指着董贝先生和伊迪丝两人正站在另一间房间中间的地方。
他们没有交谈一句话，也没有交换一次眼光。他们胳膊挽着胳膊，但是如果海洋从他们中间滚滚流过，那么他们也不会比他们现在看去那么疏远。甚至他们两人的高傲也各有特色，互不相同，这一点使他们更加格格不入；如果一位是世界上最高傲的人，另一位是世界上最恭顺的人，那么他们也不至于像现在这么遥遥相隔。他，自负不凡，刚强不
Chapter 28
Alterations

'So the day has come at length, Susan,' said Florence to the excellent Nipper, 'when we are going back to our quiet home!'
Susan drew in her breath with an amount of expression not easily described, further relieving her feelings with a smart cough, answered, 'Very quiet indeed, Miss Floy, no doubt. Excessive so.'
'When I was a child,' said Florence, thoughtfully, and after musing for some moments, 'did you ever see that gentleman who has taken the trouble to ride down here to speak to me, now three times - three times, I think, Susan?'
'Three times, Miss,' returned the Nipper. 'Once when you was out a walking with them Sket- '
Florence gently looked at her, and Miss Nipper checked herself.
'With Sir Barnet and his lady, I mean to say, Miss, and the young gentleman. And two evenings since then.'
'When I was a child, and when company used to come to visit Papa, did you ever see that gentleman at home, Susan?' asked Florence.
'Well, Miss,' returned her maid, after considering, 'I really couldn't say I ever did. When your poor dear Ma died, Miss Floy, I was very new in the family, you see, and my element:' the Nipper bridled, as opining that her merits had been always designedly extinguished by Mr Dombey: 'was the floor below the attics.'
'To be sure,' said Florence, still thoughtfully; 'you are not likely to have known who came to the house. I quite forgot.'
'Not, Miss, but what we talked about the family and visitors,' said Susan, 'and but what I heard much said, although the nurse before Mrs Richards make unpleasant remarks when I was in company, and hint at little Pitchers, but that could only be attributed, poor thing,' observed Susan, with composed forbearance, 'to habits of intoxication, for which she was required to leave, and did.'
Florence, who was seated at her chamber window, with her face resting on her hand, sat looking out, and hardly seemed to hear what Susan said, she was so lost in thought.
'At all events, Miss,' said Susan, 'I remember very well that this same gentleman, Mr Carker, was almost, if not quite, as great a gentleman with your Papa then, as he is now. It used to be said in the house then, Miss, that he was at the head of all your Pa's affairs in the City, and managed the whole, and that your Pa minded him more than anybody, which, begging your pardon, Miss Floy, he might easy do, for he never minded anybody else. I knew that, Pitcher as I might have been.'
Susan Nipper, with an injured remembrance of the nurse before Mrs Richards, emphasised 'Pitcher' strongly.
'And that Mr Carker has not fallen off, Miss,' she pursued, 'but has stood his ground, and kept his credit with your Pa, I know from what is always said among our people by that Perch, whenever he comes to the house; and though he's the weakest weed in the world, Miss Floy, and no one can have a moment's patience with the man, he knows what goes on in the City tolerable well, and says that your Pa does nothing without Mr Carker, and leaves all to Mr Carker, and acts according to Mr Carker, and has Mr Carker always at his elbow, and I do believe that he believes (that washiest of Perches!) that after your Pa, the Emperor of India is the child unborn to Mr Carker.'
Not a word of this was lost on Florence, who, with an awakened interest in Susan's speech, no longer gazed abstractedly on the prospect without, but looked at her, and listened with attention.
'Yes, Susan,' she said, when that young lady had concluded. 'He is in Papa's confidence, and is his friend, I am sure.'
Florence's mind ran high on this theme, and had done for some days. Mr Carker, in the two visits with which he had followed up his first one, had assumed a confidence between himself and her - a right on his part to be mysterious and stealthy, in telling her that the ship was still unheard of - a kind of mildly restrained power and authority over her - that made her wonder, and caused her great uneasiness. She had no means of repelling it, or of freeing herself from the web he was gradually winding about her; for that would have required some art and knowledge of the world, opposed to such address as his; and Florence had none. True, he had said no more to her than that there was no news of the ship, and that he feared the worst; but how he came to know that she was interested in the ship, and why he had the right to signify his knowledge to her, so insidiously and darkly, troubled Florence very much.
This conduct on the part of Mr Carker, and her habit of often considering it with wonder and uneasiness, began to invest him with an uncomfortable fascination in Florence's thoughts. A more distinct remembrance of his features, voice, and manner: which she sometimes courted, as a means of reducing him to the level of a real personage, capable of exerting no greater charm over her than another: did not remove the vague impression. And yet he never frowned, or looked upon her with an air of dislike or animosity, but was always smiling and serene.
Again, Florence, in pursuit of her strong purpose with reference to her father, and her steady resolution to believe that she was herself unwittingly to blame for their so cold and distant relations, would recall to mind that this gentleman was his confidential friend, and would think, with an anxious heart, could her struggling tendency to dislike and fear him be a part of that misfortune in her, which had turned her father's love adrift, and left her so alone? She dreaded that it might be; sometimes believed it was: then she resolved that she would try to conquer this wrong feeling; persuaded herself that she was honoured and encouraged by the notice of her father's friend; and hoped that patient observation of him and trust in him would lead her bleeding feet along that stony road which ended in her father's heart.
Thus, with no one to advise her - for she could advise with no one without seeming to complain against him - gentle Florence tossed on an uneasy sea of doubt and hope; and Mr Carker, like a scaly monster of the deep, swam down below, and kept his shining eye upon her. Florence had a new reason in all this for wishing to be at home again. Her lonely life was better suited to her course of timid hope and doubt; and she feared sometimes, that in her absence she might miss some hopeful chance of testifying her affection for her father. Heaven knows, she might have set her mind at rest, poor child! on this last point; but her slighted love was fluttering within her, and, even in her sleep, it flew away in dreams, and nestled, like a wandering bird come home, upon her father's neck.
Of Walter she thought often. Ah! how often, when the night was gloomy, and the wind was blowing round the house! But hope was strong in her breast. It is so difficult for the young and ardent, even with such experience as hers, to imagine youth and ardour quenched like a weak flame, and the bright day of life merging into night, at noon, that hope was strong yet. Her tears fell frequently for Walter's sufferings; but rarely for his supposed death, and never long.
She had written to the old Instrument-maker, but had received no answer to her note: which indeed required none. Thus matters stood with Florence on the morning when she was going home, gladly, to her old secluded life.
Doctor and Mrs Blimber, accompanied (much against his will) by their valued charge, Master Barnet, were already gone back to Brighton, where that young gentleman and his fellow-pilgrims to Parnassus were then, no doubt, in the continual resumption of their studies. The holiday time was past and over; most of the juvenile guests at the villa had taken their departure; and Florence's long visit was come to an end.
There was one guest, however, albeit not resident within the house, who had been very constant in his attentions to the family, and who still remained devoted to them. This was Mr Toots, who after renewing, some weeks ago, the acquaintance he had had the happiness of forming with Skettles Junior, on the night when he burst the Blimberian bonds and soared into freedom with his ring on, called regularly every other day, and left a perfect pack of cards at the hall-door; so many indeed, that the ceremony was quite a deal on the part of Mr Toots, and a hand at whist on the part of the servant.
Mr Toots, likewise, with the bold and happy idea of preventing the family from forgetting him (but there is reason to suppose that this expedient originated in the teeming brain of the Chicken), had established a six-oared cutter, manned by aquatic friends of the Chicken's and steered by that illustrious character in person, who wore a bright red fireman's coat for the purpose, and concealed the perpetual black eye with which he was afflicted, beneath a green shade. Previous to the institution of this equipage, Mr Toots sounded the Chicken on a hypothetical case, as, supposing the Chicken to be enamoured of a young lady named Mary, and to have conceived the intention of starting a boat of his own, what would he call that boat? The Chicken replied, with divers strong asseverations, that he would either christen it Poll or The Chicken's Delight. Improving on this idea, Mr Toots, after deep study and the exercise of much invention, resolved to call his boat The Toots's Joy, as a delicate compliment to Florence, of which no man knowing the parties, could possibly miss the appreciation.
Stretched on a crimson cushion in his gallant bark, with his shoes in the air, Mr Toots, in the exercise of his project, had come up the river, day after day, and week after week, and had flitted to and fro, near Sir Barnet's garden, and had caused his crew to cut across and across the river at sharp angles, for his better exhibition to any lookers-out from Sir Barnet's windows, and had had such evolutions performed by the Toots's Joy as had filled all the neighbouring part of the water-side with astonishment. But whenever he saw anyone in Sir Barnet's garden on the brink of the river, Mr Toots always feigned to be passing there, by a combination of coincidences of the most singular and unlikely description.
'How are you, Toots?' Sir Barnet would say, waving his hand from the lawn, while the artful Chicken steered close in shore.
'How de do, Sir Barnet?' Mr Toots would answer, What a surprising thing that I should see you here!'
Mr Toots, in his sagacity, always said this, as if, instead of that being Sir Barnet's house, it were some deserted edifice on the banks of the Nile, or Ganges.
'I never was so surprised!' Mr Toots would exclaim. - 'Is Miss Dombey there?'
Whereupon Florence would appear, perhaps.
'Oh, Diogenes is quite well, Miss Dombey,' Toots would cry. 'I called to ask this morning.'
'Thank you very much!' the pleasant voice of Florence would reply.
'Won't you come ashore, Toots?' Sir Barnet would say then. 'Come! you're in no hurry. Come and see us.'
'Oh, it's of no consequence, thank you!' Mr Toots would blushingly rejoin. 'I thought Miss Dombey might like to know, that's all. Good-bye!' And poor Mr Toots, who was dying to accept the invitation, but hadn't the courage to do it, signed to the Chicken, with an aching heart, and away went the Joy, cleaving the water like an arrow.
The Joy was lying in a state of extraordinary splendour, at the garden steps, on the morning of Florence's departure. When she went downstairs to take leave, after her talk with Susan, she found Mr Toots awaiting her in the drawing-room.
'Oh, how de do, Miss Dombey?' said the stricken Toots, always dreadfully disconcerted when the desire of his heart was gained, and he was speaking to her; 'thank you, I'm very well indeed, I hope you're the same, so was Diogenes yesterday.'
'You are very kind,' said Florence.
'Thank you, it's of no consequence,' retorted Mr Toots. 'I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind, in this fine weather, coming home by water, Miss Dombey. There's plenty of room in the boat for your maid.'
'I am very much obliged to you,' said Florence, hesitating. 'I really am - but I would rather not.'
'Oh, it's of no consequence,' retorted Mr Toots. 'Good morning.'
'Won't you wait and see Lady Skettles?' asked Florence, kindly.
'Oh no, thank you,' returned Mr Toots, 'it's of no consequence at all.'
So shy was Mr Toots on such occasions, and so flurried! But Lady Skettles entering at the moment, Mr Toots was suddenly seized with a passion for asking her how she did, and hoping she was very well; nor could Mr Toots by any possibility leave off shaking hands with her, until Sir Barnet appeared: to whom he immediately clung with the tenacity of desperation.
'We are losing, today, Toots,' said Sir Barnet, turning towards Florence, 'the light of our house, I assure you'
'Oh, it's of no conseq - I mean yes, to be sure,' faltered the embarrassed Mr Toots. 'Good morning!'
Notwithstanding the emphatic nature of this farewell, Mr Toots, instead of going away, stood leering about him, vacantly. Florence, to relieve him, bade adieu, with many thanks, to Lady Skettles, and gave her arm to Sir Barnet.
'May I beg of you, my dear Miss Dombey,' said her host, as he conducted her to the carriage, 'to present my best compliments to your dear Papa?'
It was distressing to Florence to receive the commission, for she felt as if she were imposing on Sir Barnet by allowing him to believe that a kindness rendered to her, was rendered to her father. As she could not explain, however, she bowed her head and thanked him; and again she thought that the dull home, free from such embarrassments, and such reminders of her sorrow, was her natural and best retreat.
Such of her late friends and companions as were yet remaining at the villa, came running from within, and from the garden, to say good-bye. They were all attached to her, and very earnest in taking leave of her. Even the household were sorry for her going, and the servants came nodding and curtseying round the carriage door. As Florence looked round on the kind faces, and saw among them those of Sir Barnet and his lady, and of Mr Toots, who was chuckling and staring at her from a distance, she was reminded of the night when Paul and she had come from Doctor Blimber's: and when the carriage drove away, her face was wet with tears.
Sorrowful tears, but tears of consolation, too; for all the softer memories connected with the dull old house to which she was returning made it dear to her, as they rose up. How long it seemed since she had wandered through the silent rooms: since she had last crept, softly and afraid, into those her father occupied: since she had felt the solemn but yet soothing influence of the beloved dead in every action of her daily life! This new farewell reminded her, besides, of her parting with poor Walter: of his looks and words that night: and of the gracious blending she had noticed in him, of tenderness for those he left behind, with courage and high spirit. His little history was associated with the old house too, and gave it a new claim and hold upon her heart. Even Susan Nipper softened towards the home of so many years, as they were on their way towards it. Gloomy as it was, and rigid justice as she rendered to its gloom, she forgave it a great deal. 'I shall be glad to see it again, I don't deny, Miss,' said the Nipper. 'There ain't much in it to boast of, but I wouldn't have it burnt or pulled down, neither!'
'You'll be glad to go through the old rooms, won't you, Susan?' said Florence, smiling.
'Well, Miss,' returned the Nipper, softening more and more towards the house, as they approached it nearer, 'I won't deny but what I shall, though I shall hate 'em again, to-morrow, very likely.'
Florence felt that, for her, there was greater peace within it than elsewhere. It was better and easier to keep her secret shut up there, among the tall dark walls, than to carry it abroad into the light, and try to hide it from a crowd of happy eyes. It was better to pursue the study of her loving heart, alone, and find no new discouragements in loving hearts about her. It was easier to hope, and pray, and love on, all uncared for, yet with constancy and patience, in the tranquil sanctuary of such remembrances: although it mouldered, rusted, and decayed about her: than in a new scene, let its gaiety be what it would. She welcomed back her old enchanted dream of life, and longed for the old dark door to close upon her, once again.
Full of such thoughts, they turned into the long and sombre street. Florence was not on that side of the carriage which was nearest to her home, and as the distance lessened between them and it, she looked out of her window for the children over the way.
She was thus engaged, when an exclamation from Susan caused her to turn quickly round.
'Why, Gracious me!' cried Susan, breathless, 'where's our house!'
'Our house!' said Florence.
Susan, drawing in her head from the window, thrust it out again, drew it in again as the carriage stopped, and stared at her mistress in amazement.
There was a labyrinth of scaffolding raised all round the house, from the basement to the roof. Loads of bricks and stones, and heaps of mortar, and piles of wood, blocked up half the width and length of the broad street at the side. Ladders were raised against the walls; labourers were climbing up and down; men were at work upon the steps of the scaffolding; painters and decorators were busy inside; great rolls of ornamental paper were being delivered from a cart at the door; an upholsterer's waggon also stopped the way; no furniture was to be seen through the gaping and broken windows in any of the rooms; nothing but workmen, and the implements of their several trades, swarming from the kitchens to the garrets. Inside and outside alike: bricklayers, painters, carpenters, masons: hammer, hod, brush, pickaxe, saw, and trowel: all at work together, in full chorus!
Florence descended from the coach, half doubting if it were, or could be the right house, until she recognised Towlinson, with a sun-burnt face, standing at the door to receive her.
'There is nothing the matter?' inquired Florence.
'Oh no, Miss.'
'There are great alterations going on.'
'Yes, Miss, great alterations,' said Towlinson.
Florence passed him as if she were in a dream, and hurried upstairs. The garish light was in the long-darkened drawing-room and there were steps and platforms, and men In paper caps, in the high places. Her mother's picture was gone with the rest of the moveables, and on the mark where it had been, was scrawled in chalk, 'this room in panel. Green and gold.' The staircase was a labyrinth of posts and planks like the outside of the house, and a whole Olympus of plumbers and glaziers was reclining in various attitudes, on the skylight. Her own room was not yet touched within, but there were beams and boards raised against it without, baulking the daylight. She went up swiftly to that other bedroom, where the little bed was; and a dark giant of a man with a pipe in his mouth, and his head tied up in a pocket-handkerchief, was staring in at the window.
It was here that Susan Nipper, who had been in quest of Florence, found her, and said, would she go downstairs to her Papa, who wished to speak to her.
'At home! and wishing to speak to me!' cried Florence, trembling.
Susan, who was infinitely more distraught than Florence herself, repeated her errand; and Florence, pale and agitated, hurried down again, without a moment's hesitation. She thought upon the way down, would she dare to kiss him? The longing of her heart resolved her, and she thought she would.
Her father might have heard that heart beat, when it came into his presence. One instant, and it would have beat against his breast.
But he was not alone. There were two ladies there; and Florence stopped. Striving so hard with her emotion, that if her brute friend Di had not burst in and overwhelmed her with his caresses as a welcome home - at which one of the ladies gave a little scream, and that diverted her attention from herself - she would have swooned upon the floor.
'Florence,' said her father, putting out his hand: so stiffly that it held her off: 'how do you do?'
Florence took the hand between her own, and putting it timidly to her lips, yielded to its withdrawal. It touched the door in shutting it, with quite as much endearment as it had touched her.
'What dog is that?' said Mr Dombey, displeased.
'It is a dog, Papa - from Brighton.'
'Well!' said Mr Dombey; and a cloud passed over his face, for he understood her.
'He is very good-tempered,' said Florence, addressing herself with her natural grace and sweetness to the two lady strangers. 'He is only glad to see me. Pray forgive him.'
She saw in the glance they interchanged, that the lady who had screamed, and who was seated, was old; and that the other lady, who stood near her Papa, was very beautiful, and of an elegant figure.
'Mrs Skewton,' said her father, turning to the first, and holding out his hand, 'this is my daughter Florence.'
'Charming, I am sure,' observed the lady, putting up her glass. 'So natural! My darling Florence, you must kiss me, if you please.'
Florence having done so, turned towards the other lady, by whom her father stood waiting.
'Edith,' said Mr Dombey, 'this is my daughter Florence. Florence, this lady will soon be your Mama.'
Florence started, and looked up at the beautiful face in a conflict of emotions, among which the tears that name awakened, struggled for a moment with surprise, interest, admiration, and an indefinable sort of fear. Then she cried out, 'Oh, Papa, may you be happy! may you be very, very happy all your life!' and then fell weeping on the lady's bosom.
There was a short silence. The beautiful lady, who at first had seemed to hesitate whether or no she should advance to Florence, held her to her breast, and pressed the hand with which she clasped her, close about her waist, as if to reassure her and comfort her. Not one word passed the lady's lips. She bent her head down over Florence, and she kissed her on the cheek, but she said no word.
'Shall we go on through the rooms,' said Mr Dombey, 'and see how our workmen are doing? Pray allow me, my dear madam.'
He said this in offering his arm to Mrs Skewton, who had been looking at Florence through her glass, as though picturing to herself what she might be made, by the infusion - from her own copious storehouse, no doubt - of a little more Heart and Nature. Florence was still sobbing on the lady's breast, and holding to her, when Mr Dombey was heard to say from the Conservatory:
'Let us ask Edith. Dear me, where is she?'
'Edith, my dear!' cried Mrs Skewton, 'where are you? Looking for Mr Dombey somewhere, I know. We are here, my love.'
The beautiful lady released her hold of Florence, and pressing her lips once more upon her face, withdrew hurriedly, and joined them. Florence remained standing In the same place: happy, sorry, joyful, and in tears, she knew not how, or how long, but all at once: when her new Mama came back, and took her in her arms again.
'Florence,' said the lady, hurriedly, and looking into her face with great earnestness. 'You will not begin by hating me?'
'By hating you, Mama?' cried Florence, winding her arm round her neck, and returning the look.
'Hush! Begin by thinking well of me,' said the beautiful lady. 'Begin by believing that I will try to make you happy, and that I am prepared to love you, Florence. Good-bye. We shall meet again soon. Good-bye! Don't stay here, now.'
Again she pressed her to her breast she had spoken in a rapid manner, but firmly - and Florence saw her rejoin them in the other room. And now Florence began to hope that she would learn from her new and beautiful Mama, how to gaIn her father's love; and in her sleep that night, in her lost old home, her own Mama smiled radiantly upon the hope, and blessed it. Dreaming Florence!
“苏珊，这一天终于来到了，”弗洛伦斯对极好的尼珀说道，“我们又要回到我们安静的家里去了！”
苏珊露出难以描述的丰富表情，吸进一口气，然后又有力地咳嗽了一声，来缓和她的感情，回答道，“确实很安静，弗洛伊小姐，这是没有疑问的。非常安静。”
“当我是个孩子的时候，”弗洛伦斯沉思了一会儿以后，若有所思地问道，“您有没有看见过那位不怕麻烦，到现在已有三次骑马到这里来跟我谈话的先生？我想有三次了吧，苏珊？”
“三次了，小姐，”尼珀回答道，“有一次他们邀您出去散步，这些斯克特——”
弗洛伦斯温和地看了她一下，尼珀小姐就克制住自己。
“小姐，我是想说，巴尼特爵士和他夫人以及那位年轻的先生。从那次以后，他又在晚上来了两次。”
“当我是个小孩子，客人们前来拜访爸爸的时候，您在家里看到过那位先生吗，苏珊？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“唔，小姐，”她的侍女考虑之后回答道，“我确实不好说我是不是看到过他。您知道，您可怜的妈妈死的时候，弗洛伊小姐，我刚刚上您家来，我的活动范围，”尼珀仰起头来，好像是抱怨董贝先生经常故意看不起她的劳绩似的，“就在顶楼下面。”
“是的，”弗洛伦斯依旧深思地说道，“您大概不会知道谁到我们家里来过。我是完全忘记了。”
“当然，小姐，我们也谈论主人和客人，”苏珊说道，“我当然还听到不少谈话，虽然当我跟她们在一起的时候，理查兹大嫂以前的保姆曾经讲过一些令人不愉快的话，暗示说，有长耳朵的小水罐①什么的，可是这只能怪她本人爱把自己灌醉，这可怜的人，”苏珊带着镇静的、宽容的神情，说道，“她就因为这个缘故被解雇了，她也就走了。”
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①长耳朵的小水罐：英国谚语，意指小孩子耳朵尖。
弗洛伦斯坐在卧室的窗口，手支托着脸，向外看着，似乎没有听见苏珊说了些什么；她深深地陷在沉思中了。
“不管怎么样，小姐，”苏珊说，“我记得很清楚，那时候，这位卡克先生在您爸爸的心目中是一位重要的人物；即使不说跟现在一样，也跟现在差不多。那时候，小姐，我在屋子里经常听说，他在您爸爸城里的公司里是个头，一切事情都归他管，您爸爸器重他超过任何人，这一点，弗洛伊小姐，请您原谅，他很容易这样做，因为他从来不重视其他人。我知道这，因为我也许是个长耳朵的水罐，听到别人这么说。”
苏珊•尼珀委屈地回想起理查兹大嫂以前的保姆，说到“长耳朵的水罐”时有力地加重了语气。
“他们还谈到卡克先生没有失宠，小姐，”她继续说道，“而是牢牢地保持住自己的地位，继续受到您爸爸的信任。这些我是从那位珀奇那里听到的。他每到这里来的时候，总要到我们这些人中间聊天，虽然他是世界上最没骨气的人，弗洛伊小姐，谁也没有耐性跟他相处一分钟，可是他对城里发生的事情倒知道得很多。他说，您爸爸不论做什么事，都离不开卡克先生，一切事情都交给卡克先生去办理，一切都按照卡克先生的意见去做，并让卡克先生老跟随在他的身边。照我看，在珀奇心目中，除了您爸爸之外，印度皇帝跟卡克先生相比还是个没出生的孩子呢。”
这些话弗洛伦斯没有听漏一个字；她对苏珊的谈话产生了兴趣，不再心不在焉地望着窗外的景物，而是看着她，并注意地听着她。
“是的，苏珊，”当那位姑娘讲完时，她说道，“我相信，他得到爸爸的信任，而且是他的朋友。”
弗洛伦斯的思想集中在这个问题上，好几天也离不开它。卡克先生在接着第一次拜访之后而来的两次拜访中，装出他和她相互信任似的，并装出他有权神秘地和悄悄地告诉她，那条船还是下落不明，而且他对她有一种稍稍加以克制的权力和影响，这使她感到奇怪，并使她心中产生极大的不安。她无法拒绝它，使她自己从他逐渐缠绕在她身上的蜘蛛网中解脱出来；因为那需要掌握这世界的某种策略和知识，才能对抗他的这种诡计，而弗洛伦斯却没有掌握。不错，他除了对她说那条船杳无音讯，并说，他担心会发生最坏的结果之外，并没有再说别的，但是他怎么知道她关心这条船，为什么他有权利那么阴险地、恶毒地把他知道的事情告诉给她呢，弗洛伦斯对这感到苦恼不安。
卡克先生的这种行为以及她经常怀疑和不安地思考它的习惯，开始使他在弗洛伦斯的思想中具有一种很令人不愉快的魔力。有时，为了使他成为一个真实的人，不能比其他人对她施加更大的魔力，她就想方设法，更清楚地回忆起他的面貌、声音和神态，可是这样做，并不能消除她心中那模糊的印象。然而他却从不皱眉蹙额，也从不露出厌恶或敌意的神态来看她，而总是笑容满脸，安详自若。
另一方面，弗洛伦斯由于强烈地怀抱着要达到重新赢得她父亲喜爱的目的，并坚决相信她自己非出本意地应对他们父女之间如此冷淡与疏远的关系负责，因此她会想到，这位先生是她父亲知心的朋友；她还会忧虑地想到，她对他产生厌恶和恐惧的思想会不会是她促使她父亲不爱她并造成她如此孤独的不幸原因之一呢？她担心可能是这样；有时她相信就正是这样。于是她就决心克服这种错误的感情，使她自己相信，她父亲的朋友的关注对她来说是光荣和鼓励；并希望对他进行耐心的观察和信任将会引导她的流血的双脚走过那坎坷不平的道路，通向她父亲的心。
就这样，没有人给她出主意——因为她要跟人商量，似乎就像是抱怨父亲似的——，温柔的弗洛伦斯在怀疑与希望的不平静的海洋上颠簸着；卡克先生则像是深海中有鳞的妖怪一样在下面游着，闪闪发光的眼睛一直在注视着她。
弗洛伦斯在这一切之中，又有了一个希望重新回家的新理由。孤独的生活更适合于她怀有胆怯的希望与怀疑的过程；她有时担心，当她不在家的时候，她也许会错过向她父亲表明她的爱心的好机会。天知道，她可以在这最后的一点上让她的心安静下来，可怜的孩子！可是她那受到冷落的爱正在她的心中跳动，它甚至在她睡眠时飞了出去，像一只在外游荡的鸟儿飞回家一样，安息在她父亲的脖子上。
她时常思念沃尔特。啊！当夜色朦胧，风在屋外吹刮的时候，她曾经多少次想到了他啊！但是她心中怀着强烈的希望。对于年轻和感情热烈的人——甚至像她那样经验不多的人——来说，很难想象青春与热忱会像微弱的火焰一样熄灭，生命的白天会在中午就被黑夜吞没，因此，希望在她心中仍然是强烈的。她时常为沃尔特所遭受的苦难而流泪，但却很少为他假定的死亡而流泪，时间也从来不长久。
她曾经写信给年老的仪器制造商，但却没有得到回音，但她在信中并没有要求回复。那天早上弗洛伦斯高高兴兴地准备回家去过她以往的隐居生活的时候，她的情况就是这样。
布林伯博士和夫人，在他们尊贵的弟子巴尼特少爷的陪同（这是十分违反他心愿的）下，早已回到布赖顿；这位小先生和跟他同去帕纳萨斯朝圣的伴侣们无疑早已在那里继续他们的攻读。假期早已过去了；别墅中大部分年轻的客人们都已离开；弗洛伦斯这长时间的拜访也将要结束了。
不过，有一位客人虽然没有居住在巴尼特爵士的家里，但却始终如一地对这家人表示关切，并仍和过去一样对他们忠心耿耿。这就是图茨先生。他在挣脱布林伯枷锁，并戴着戒指高飞进自由王国的那一天晚上，有幸认识了小斯克特尔斯；他在几个星期以前重叙了这一交情之后，每隔一天就准时前来看望一次，并在门厅的门口留下一大堆名片；名片的数量实在多极了，因此这个表示礼仪的方式使人想起了惠斯特牌①，图茨先生像是在配牌，仆人则像是个玩牌的对手。
图茨先生为了使这家人不会忘记他，还采用了一个大胆的、巧妙的主意（不过，有理由设想，这个办法是从斗鸡足智多谋的脑袋中产生的）：他购置了一条六个桨的单桅帆船；斗鸡的水上运动的朋友们充任船员，那位杰出的英雄亲自把舵；他为了这个目的穿了一件鲜红的消防队员的短外衣，并用绿色的遮阳掩盖眼睛周围永久性的青紫斑；在给这条船装备用品之前，图茨先生曾试探斗鸡对这样一个假想的情况的意见：假定斗鸡迷恋上一位名叫玛丽的姑娘，心里正打算自己弄一条船，那么他将把那条船取个什么名字呢？斗鸡斩钉截铁、发誓赌咒地回答说，他将把它命名为“波尔”②或“斗鸡的喜悦”。图茨先生把这个想法加以改进，在深深思索并充分发挥创造才能之后，决定把他的单桅帆船称为“图茨的欢乐”——这是对弗洛伦斯的巧妙颂辞，凡是知道他们的人没有一个不对它表示赞许的。
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①惠斯持（whist）牌：由4人成局的一种纸牌戏，共有52张牌，以2人为1组，两组相对。桥脾就是由惠斯特牌发展出来的。
②波尔（Poll）是玛丽（Mary）的小称。
图茨先生躺在他的华丽的帆船中的一个深红色的靠垫上，脚跷在空中，在执行他的计划的过程中，一天又一天，一星期又一星期，向上游划来，在巴尼特爵士花园附近来来去去；他命令他的船员们一次又一次沿着锐角方向穿过河流，以便从巴尼特爵士窗口往外看的人们可以更好地看到他；他还让“图茨的欢乐”进行各种演习，使河岸附近的居民看得目瞪口呆。可是每当他看到巴尼特爵士花园里的什么人待在河边的时候，图茨先生总是假装成由于一些情况的巧合而划过那里，这种巧合是非常离奇古怪和不大可能发生的。
“您好吗，图茨？”巴尼特爵士会从草坪上向他挥着手，说道。这时机灵的斗鸡就直向岸边划去。
“您好，巴尼特爵士！”图茨先生回答道，“多么令人惊奇的事呀，我会在这里遇见您！”
图茨先生以他特有的聪明，经常这样说，仿佛这里不是巴尼特爵士的住宅，而是尼罗河或恒河上的一座什么荒废的大厦似的。
“我从没感到这么惊奇的！”图茨先生会惊叫道，“董贝小姐在这里吗？”
也许弗洛伦斯随后就会到这里来。
“啊，戴奥吉尼斯很健康，董贝小姐，”图茨先生会喊道，“今天早上我去打听过。”
“非常感谢您！”弗洛伦斯会用愉快的声音回答道。
“您不上岸来吗，图茨！”巴尼特爵士这时会这样说，“上来吧！您又不急着上什么地方去。来看看我们吧。”
“哦，这无关紧要，谢谢您！”图茨先生会红着脸回答道，“我想董贝小姐也许会高兴知道这个情况；我要说的都说完了。再见吧！”可怜的图茨先生真盼望能接受这个邀请，但却又没有这样的勇气，所以就怀着痛苦的心情，向斗鸡打了个手势，于是“欢乐”就离开了，像箭一般地破浪前进。
弗洛伦斯要离开这里的这天早晨，“欢乐”装饰得十分豪华，停泊在花园的台阶旁边。当弗洛伦斯跟苏珊谈话以后下楼去告别时，她发现图茨先生正在客厅里等待她。
“您好，董贝小姐！”感动的图茨说道；当他心中的愿望得到满足的时候，他经常可怕地仓皇失措；这时他对她说道，“谢谢您，我确实很健康，我希望您也一样，戴奥吉尼斯昨天也是这样。”
“谢谢您的好意，”弗洛伦斯说。
“谢谢您，这无关紧要，”图茨先生回答道，“今天天气很好，我想您也许不会反对从水路回家吧，董贝小姐。船里宽敞得很，您的侍女也可以跟您同船走。”
“我十分感谢您，”弗洛伦斯迟疑地说道，“我确实感谢，不过——我不想那样走。”
“哦，这无关紧要，”图茨先生回答道，“早上好。”
“您不等一下，看看斯克特尔斯夫人吗？”弗洛伦斯亲切地问道。
“哦不，谢谢您，”图茨先生说道，“这根本无关紧要。”
图茨先生在这种场合下是这么害羞，这么慌张啊！可是斯克特尔斯夫人就在这时候进来了，图茨先生突然想要问问她好吗，并祝她健康；图茨先生跟她握手的时候怎么也下不了决心把手放下，直到巴尼特爵士来到为止；一看到巴尼特爵士，图茨先生就立刻紧紧地把他抓住。
“图茨，”巴尼特爵士朝着弗洛伦斯说道，“我肯定地对您说，我们今天将失去屋子里的明灯了。”
“哦，这无关紧要——我是想说，您说得完全不错，”局促不安的图茨结结巴巴地说道，“再见吧！”
图茨先生尽管这样有声有色地作了告别，但却没有走开，而是原地站着不动，并斜着眼睛，茫然地看着四周。弗洛伦斯为了使他摆脱困境，就开始向斯克特尔斯夫人告别，说了很多感谢的话，同时把胳膊向巴尼特爵士伸去。
“我亲爱的董贝小姐，”她的主人把她送上四轮马车的时候，说道，“我请您向您亲爱的爸爸转达我最亲切的问候，可以吗？”
弗洛伦斯接受这项任务是痛苦的，因为她觉得她如果要使他相信，他对她所表示的好意就是对她爸爸所表示的好意，那么这就欺骗了巴尼特爵士。不过因为她不能解释，所以她就低下头去向他表示感谢，这时她又重新想起那沉闷无趣的家可以使她从这些使她感到尴尬、引起她悲伤的事情中解脱出来，因此它是她自然的和最好的藏身场所。
她新近交上的朋友们和伴侣们，有些依旧住在别墅里，他们都从房屋里和花园中跑来向她告别。他们全都和她依依不舍，十分诚挚地跟她分手。甚至连仆人们也对她的离去感到惋惜；他们聚集在马车门口向她点头和行屈膝礼。当弗洛伦斯看着四周亲切的脸孔，在这些脸孔中间看到了巴尼特爵士和夫人的脸孔，看到了站在远处正在吃吃笑着和注视着她的图茨先生的脸孔时，她想起了那天夜里保罗和她离开布林伯博士的学校回家时的情景；当马车离开他们向前奔跑的时候，她的脸孔都被泪水沾湿了。
这是悲伤的眼泪，但这也是带来安慰的眼泪，因为当与她现在正要回去的那座沉闷无趣的老房屋有关的所有美好的回忆涌上心头的时候，它们使她感到这座老房屋十分亲切。自从她在那些寂静无声的房间中漫步穿行以来，自从她最后一次轻轻地、害怕地偷偷走进她父亲的那些房间以来，自从她在日常生活的一举一动之间都感觉到死去的亲爱的弟弟的庄严而又抚慰的影响以来，似乎已经过去了多么长久的时间了啊！这次新的告别还使她想起了她跟可怜的沃尔特的离别，想起了他那天夜间的神情和话语，想起了她曾注意到他既对留在后面的人们怀着亲切的感情，但同时却又表露出勇气和高兴；他的短短的历史也是和这座古老的房屋联系着的，这使这座房屋具有一种新的权利来要求获得和支配她的心。
当她们行进在回家的路途中时，甚至连苏珊•尼珀对这居住了许多年的家的态度也温和起来了。虽然它是阴郁的，她对它的阴郁曾进行过严厉而中肯的指责，可是她大大地原谅它了。“我不否认，小姐，我将高兴再看到它，”尼珀说，“虽然它没有什么可夸耀的，可是我却不愿意它被火烧了，也不愿意它被拆毁了！”
“你将高兴穿过那些老房间，是不是，苏珊？”弗洛伦斯笑嘻嘻地问道。
“唔，小姐，”苏珊回答道；当她们愈来愈接近这座房屋的时候，她对它的态度也愈来愈温和了，“我不想否认，我将高兴穿过它们，不过很可能，明天我又会恨它们了。”
弗洛伦斯觉得，她住在家里比住在其他任何地方都更感到安宁。在家里，在这些高高的、黑暗的墙壁中间，把她心中的秘密深深地隐藏起来，比把它带到外面明亮的光线中，试图避开许多幸福的眼睛的注意，要好得多和容易得多。怀着爱的心在这里孤独地进行探索，不会因为看到周围怀着爱的心而感到新的气馁，这要好得多；在充满这些回忆的平静的圣堂内去希望，去祈祷，去热爱，比在一个不论有多少欢乐的新环境中要容易得多，虽然在她的四周，圣堂的墙壁已经朽坏了，腐蚀了，枯烂了；虽然她还会像过去一样得不到关怀，但她可以怀着恒心和耐性。她欢迎回到她那具有魅力的往昔生活的梦幻中，盼望过去那黑黑的大门再一次把她关进里面去。
满怀着这些思想，她们转进了那条长长的和幽暗的街道。弗洛伦斯不是坐在马车中最靠近她的家的那一边，当她们离家的距离愈来愈近的时候，她从窗口向外望出去，想看看住在对面的那些孩子们。
她正在这样注意看着的时候，苏珊高声喊叫了一声，促使她迅速地回过头来。
“嗳呀，天哪！”苏珊气喘吁吁地喊道，“我们的家在哪里呀！”
“我们的家！”弗洛伦斯说道。
当马车停住的时候，苏珊刚把头从窗外缩进来，这时又重新探出去，然后又把头缩回来，吃惊地呆呆地看着她的女主人。
房屋四周，从底层到屋顶，竖立着纵横交错的脚手架。屋旁宽阔的街道有一半宽和一半长的地方都被一堆堆砖石、一堆堆灰浆和一堆堆木材堵塞住了；一些梯子竖靠在墙上，工人们爬上、爬下；另一些工人正在脚手架的踏板上工作；油漆工和室内装饰工则在屋子里忙碌着。一大卷一大卷的装饰用纸正从门口的一辆大车中卸下；家具商的一辆货车也挡住了道路；从裂着口的破窗子往里看，房间中没有任何家具；所能看到的只是工人们和他们的工具挤满了从厨房到顶楼的各个地方。屋里屋外都一样：砌砖工、油漆工、木匠、石匠；锤子、灰沙斗、刷子、镐、锯、铁瓦刀——全都一齐工作着。
弗洛伦斯下了马车，心中半信半疑，这究竟是不是她的家，直到后来她认出了脸被晒得黑黑的托林森正在门口迎接她。
“没出什么事吧？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“哦，没有，小姐。”
“这里正发生着很大的变化啊。”
“是的，小姐，很大的变化，”托林森说道。
弗洛伦斯仿佛在梦中似地走过他身旁，急急忙忙跑上楼去。耀眼的光线充满了过去长期黑暗的客厅，在高处可以看到梯子、踏板和戴着纸帽子的工人。她母亲的画像已经和其他家具一道搬走了，在原先挂像的地方潦草地涂写着几个粉笔字：“这间房间要镶上护墙板，绿色和金黄色的。”楼梯间像屋外一样，一片纵横交错的柱子和木板；一群白铁工和玻璃工像奥林匹斯山上的群神①一样，在天窗上弯下身子，以各种不同的姿势操作着。她自己的房间里面暂时还没有触动，但是房子外面支立着梁杆和木板，阻挡阳光从窗户射进去。她迅速走上另一间摆着小床的房间去，一位皮肤黝黑的大汉，嘴巴里衔着一支烟管，头上包扎着一块手绢，正在窗口张大眼睛往里看。
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①奥斯匹斯山（Olympus）：希腊北部泰撒来和马其顿交界处山脉东头的高山，据传说，太古时代希腊的十二个大神就住在这个山上。
一直在寻找弗洛伦斯的苏珊•尼珀，就在这里找到了她，并建议她下楼到她爸爸那里去；他希望跟她说话。
“他在家！还希望跟我说话！”弗洛伦斯颤抖地喊道。
苏珊比弗洛伦斯更加心神错乱，又把她的使命重说了一遍；弗洛伦斯脸色苍白，心情激动，没有片刻迟疑，就急急忙忙跑下楼去。在下楼的路途中想：她敢不敢吻他呢？心中难以抑制的愿望使她下定了决心，她想她敢。
当她走到她父亲面前的时候，他也许会听到她的心在跳动。再过一瞬间，它就要贴在他的胸前跳动了。
可是他不是一个人。那里还有两位夫人；弗洛伦斯站住了。她心情斗争得十分激烈，如果这时她那粗野的朋友戴没有冲进房间，亲热地抚摸着她的全身，表示欢迎她回家的话，那么她真会晕倒在地板上的。其中有一位夫人看到这个情景，轻轻地尖叫了一声，这转移了弗洛伦斯对自己的注意力。
“弗洛伦斯，”她的父亲向她伸出手，说道；那冷冰冰的神态，使她不禁在原地站住，不敢再走向前去，“你好吗？”
弗洛伦斯把他的手握在自己的双手中，胆怯地把它拉近嘴唇，当它抽回去的时候，她不敢违抗地顺从了。他走去关门，这手刚才接触到她时就跟现在接触到门时一样冷淡。
“这条狗是怎么回事？”董贝先生不高兴地问道。
“这条狗，爸爸，是从布赖顿来的。”
“唔！”董贝先生说道，这时一朵阴云掠过他的脸孔，因为他明白她的意思。
“他的脾气很好，”弗洛伦斯以她生性具有的优雅和亲切的态度，向这两位夫人致意道，“他只是看到我觉得高兴。请原谅他。”
她在跟她们交换眼光的时候，看到那位刚才发出尖叫声并坐着的夫人已经老了，另一位站在她爸爸身旁的夫人长得很美丽，而且身材优雅。
“斯丘顿夫人，”她爸爸转向第一位夫人，指着弗洛伦斯，说道，“这是我的女儿弗洛伦斯。”
“真的，她非常可爱，”那位夫人举起长柄眼镜看着她，说道，“多么自然！我亲爱的弗洛伦斯，你一定得亲我一下，好吗？”
弗洛伦斯这样做了，然后转向另一位夫人，她爸爸站在她身边等待着。
“伊迪丝，”董贝先生说道，“这是我的女儿弗洛伦斯。弗洛伦斯，这位夫人不久就是你的妈妈了。”
弗洛伦斯吃了一惊，抬起眼睛，望着那张美丽的脸孔，心中充满了各种矛盾的情绪；在这当中，妈妈这个名词所唤出的眼泪在一刹那间跟惊异、好奇、羡慕和说不出的恐惧斗争着。然后，她喊道，“啊，爸爸，祝你幸福！祝你一辈子非常、非常幸福！”接着，她哭着扑向这位夫人的怀里。
随后是短时间的沉默。那位美丽的夫人最初似乎有些犹豫，是不是要向前朝弗洛伦斯走去，这时她把她抱在怀里，紧紧地握着她紧抱住她腰身的手，仿佛让她放心和在安慰她。这位夫人一句话也没有说。她向弗洛伦斯低下头，吻着她的脸颊，但却没有说话。
“我们是不是到这些房间去走走，”董贝先生说道，“看看我们这些工人活干得怎么样了？请允许我，我亲爱的夫人。”
他一边说，一边向斯丘顿夫人伸出胳膊；斯丘顿夫人这时正用长柄眼镜看着弗洛伦斯，好像正在心中琢磨着，如果在弗洛伦斯身上注入稍多一些心灵与自然——当然是从她自己的仓库中取来的——的话，那么她会成为一个什么样的人呢。弗洛伦斯依旧伏在那位夫人的胸前哭泣，并紧抱着她，这时听到董贝先生从暖房中说道：
“让我问问伊迪丝。哎呀，她在哪里呀？”
“伊迪丝，我亲爱的！”斯丘顿夫人喊道，“你在哪里？她一定正在找董贝先生，我知道。我们在这里哪，我亲爱的。”
美丽的夫人放松了她对弗洛伦斯的拥抱，又一次把嘴唇紧贴在她的脸上，然后急忙走出房间，参加到他们当中。弗洛伦斯一动不动地站在原来的地方：幸福、悲伤、高兴、流泪。当她的新妈妈回来又把她抱在怀中的时候，她不知道这是怎么发生的，也不知道时间过去了多久，只知道这一切都是同时发生的。
“弗洛伦斯，”这位夫人极为恳切地注视着她的脸孔，急忙说道，“你不会一开始就恨我吧？”
“恨你，妈妈？”弗洛伦斯用胳膊搂着她的脖子，注视着她，喊道。
“轻一些！一开始往好里想我吧，”美丽的夫人说道，“开始相信我将设法使你幸福，相信我是准备爱你的，弗洛伦斯。再见，我们很快就会再见面的。再见吧！现在别待在这里。”
她又把她抱在胸前，刚才的这些话她是急促地说出的，但语气却是坚决的。弗洛伦斯看到她在另一间房间里参加到他们当中。
现在弗洛伦斯开始希望，她将向她美丽的新妈妈学习怎样博得她父亲的喜爱；当她在这个跟原来很不一样的家中睡觉的时候，她的新妈妈满面春风地向着她的这个希望微笑着，并为它祝福。充满了梦想的弗洛伦斯啊！
Chapter 29
The Opening of the Eyes of Mrs Chick
Miss Tox, all unconscious of any such rare appearances in connexion with Mr Dombey's house, as scaffoldings and ladders, and men with their heads tied up in pocket-handkerchiefs, glaring in at the windows like flying genii or strange birds, - having breakfasted one morning at about this eventful period of time, on her customary viands; to wit, one French roll rasped, one egg new laid (or warranted to be), and one little pot of tea, wherein was infused one little silver scoopful of that herb on behalf of Miss Tox, and one little silver scoopful on behalf of the teapot - a flight of fancy in which good housekeepers delight; went upstairs to set forth the bird waltz on the harpsichord, to water and arrange the plants, to dust the nick-nacks, and, according to her daily custom, to make her little drawing-room the garland of Princess's Place.
Miss Tox endued herself with a pair of ancient gloves, like dead leaves, in which she was accustomed to perform these avocations - hidden from human sight at other times in a table drawer - and went methodically to work; beginning with the bird waltz; passing, by a natural association of ideas, to her bird - a very high-shouldered canary, stricken in years, and much rumpled, but a piercing singer, as Princess's Place well knew; taking, next in order, the little china ornaments, paper fly-cages, and so forth; and coming round, in good time, to the plants, which generally required to be snipped here and there with a pair of scissors, for some botanical reason that was very powerful with Miss Tox. Miss Tox was slow in coming to the plants, this morning. The weather was warm, the wind southerly; and there was a sigh of the summer-time In Princess's Place, that turned Miss Tox's thoughts upon the country. The pot-boy attached to the Princess's Arms had come out with a can and trickled water, in a flowering pattern, all over Princess's Place, and it gave the weedy ground a fresh scent - quite a growing scent, Miss Tox said. There was a tiny blink of sun peeping in from the great street round the corner, and the smoky sparrows hopped over it and back again, brightening as they passed: or bathed in it, like a stream, and became glorified sparrows, unconnected with chimneys. Legends in praise of Ginger-Beer, with pictorial representations of thirsty customers submerged in the effervescence, or stunned by the flying corks, were conspicuous in the window of the Princess's Arms. They were making late hay, somewhere out of town; and though the fragrance had a long way to come, and many counter fragrances to contend with among the dwellings of the poor (may God reward the worthy gentlemen who stickle for the Plague as part and parcel of the wisdom of our ancestors, and who do their little best to keep those dwellings miserable!), yet it was wafted faintly into Princess's Place, whispering of Nature and her wholesome air, as such things will, even unto prisoners and captives, and those who are desolate and oppressed, in very spite of aldermen and knights to boot: at whose sage nod - and how they nod! - the rolling world stands still!
Miss Tox sat down upon the window-seat, and thought of her good Papa deceased - Mr Tox, of the Customs Department of the public service; and of her childhood, passed at a seaport, among a considerable quantity of cold tar, and some rusticity. She fell into a softened remembrance of meadows, in old time, gleaming with buttercups, like so many inverted firmaments of golden stars; and how she had made chains of dandelion-stalks for youthful vowers of eternal constancy, dressed chiefly in nankeen; and how soon those fetters had withered and broken.
Sitting on the window-seat, and looking out upon the sparrows and the blink of sun, Miss Tox thought likewise of her good Mama deceased - sister to the owner of the powdered head and pigtail - of her virtues and her rheumatism. And when a man with bulgy legs, and a rough voice, and a heavy basket on his head that crushed his hat into a mere black muffin, came crying flowers down Princess's Place, making his timid little roots of daisies shudder in the vibration of every yell he gave, as though he had been an ogre, hawking little children, summer recollections were so strong upon Miss Tox, that she shook her head, and murmured she would be comparatively old before she knew it - which seemed likely.
In her pensive mood, Miss Tox's thoughts went wandering on Mr Dombey's track; probably because the Major had returned home to his lodgings opposite, and had just bowed to her from his window. What other reason could Miss Tox have for connecting Mr Dombey with her summer days and dandelion fetters? Was he more cheerful? thought Miss Tox. Was he reconciled to the decrees of fate? Would he ever marry again? and if yes, whom? What sort of person now!
A flush - it was warm weather - overspread Miss Tox's face, as, while entertaining these meditations, she turned her head, and was surprised by the reflection of her thoughtful image In the chimney-glass. Another flush succeeded when she saw a little carriage drive into Princess's Place, and make straight for her own door. Miss Tox arose, took up her scissors hastily, and so coming, at last, to the plants, was very busy with them when Mrs Chick entered the room.
'How is my sweetest friend!' exclaimed Miss Tox, with open arms.
A little stateliness was mingled with Miss Tox's sweetest friend's demeanour, but she kissed Miss Tox, and said, 'Lucretia, thank you, I am pretty well. I hope you are the same. Hem!'
Mrs Chick was labouring under a peculiar little monosyllabic cough; a sort of primer, or easy introduction to the art of coughing.
'You call very early, and how kind that is, my dear!' pursued Miss Tox. 'Now, have you breakfasted?'
'Thank you, Lucretia,' said Mrs Chick, 'I have. I took an early breakfast' - the good lady seemed curious on the subject of Princess's Place, and looked all round it as she spoke - 'with my brother, who has come home.'
'He is better, I trust, my love,' faltered Miss Tox.
'He is greatly better, thank you. Hem!'
'My dear Louisa must be careful of that cough' remarked Miss Tox.
'It's nothing,' returned Mrs Chic 'It's merely change of weather. We must expect change.'
'Of weather?' asked Miss Tox, in her simplicity.
'Of everything' returned Mrs Chick 'Of course we must. It's a world of change. Anyone would surprise me very much, Lucretia, and would greatly alter my opinion of their understanding, if they attempted to contradict or evade what is so perfectly evident. Change!' exclaimed Mrs Chick, with severe philosophy. 'Why, my gracious me, what is there that does not change! even the silkworm, who I am sure might be supposed not to trouble itself about such subjects, changes into all sorts of unexpected things continually.'
'My Louisa,' said the mild Miss Tox, 'is ever happy in her illustrations.'
'You are so kind, Lucretia,' returned Mrs Chick, a little softened, 'as to say so, and to think so, I believe. I hope neither of us may ever have any cause to lessen our opinion of the other, Lucretia.'
'I am sure of it,' returned Miss Tox.
Mrs Chick coughed as before, and drew lines on the carpet with the ivory end of her parasol. Miss Tox, who had experience of her fair friend, and knew that under the pressure of any slight fatigue or vexation she was prone to a discursive kind of irritability, availed herself of the pause, to change the subject.
'Pardon me, my dear Louisa,' said Miss Tox, 'but have I caught sight of the manly form of Mr Chick in the carriage?'
'He is there,' said Mrs Chick, 'but pray leave him there. He has his newspaper, and would be quite contented for the next two hours. Go on with your flowers, Lucretia, and allow me to sit here and rest.'
'My Louisa knows,' observed Miss Tox, 'that between friends like ourselves, any approach to ceremony would be out of the question. Therefore - ' Therefore Miss Tox finished the sentence, not in words but action; and putting on her gloves again, which she had taken off, and arming herself once more with her scissors, began to snip and clip among the leaves with microscopic industry.
'Florence has returned home also,' said Mrs Chick, after sitting silent for some time, with her head on one side, and her parasol sketching on the floor; 'and really Florence is a great deal too old now, to continue to lead that solitary life to which she has been accustomed. Of course she is. There can be no doubt about it. I should have very little respect, indeed, for anybody who could advocate a different opinion. Whatever my wishes might be, I could not respect them. We cannot command our feelings to such an extent as that.'
Miss Tox assented, without being particular as to the intelligibility of the proposition.
'If she's a strange girl,' said Mrs Chick, 'and if my brother Paul cannot feel perfectly comfortable in her society, after all the sad things that have happened, and all the terrible disappointments that have been undergone, then, what is the reply? That he must make an effort. That he is bound to make an effort. We have always been a family remarkable for effort. Paul is at the head of the family; almost the only representative of it left - for what am I - I am of no consequence - '
'My dearest love,' remonstrated Miss Tox.
Mrs Chick dried her eyes, which were, for the moment, overflowing; and proceeded:
'And consequently he is more than ever bound to make an effort. And though his having done so, comes upon me with a sort of shock - for mine is a very weak and foolish nature; which is anything but a blessing I am sure; I often wish my heart was a marble slab, or a paving-stone -
'My sweet Louisa,' remonstrated Miss Tox again.
'Still, it is a triumph to me to know that he is so true to himself, and to his name of Dombey; although, of course, I always knew he would be. I only hope,' said Mrs Chick, after a pause, 'that she may be worthy of the name too.
Miss Tox filled a little green watering-pot from a jug, and happening to look up when she had done so, was so surprised by the amount of expression Mrs Chick had conveyed into her face, and was bestowing upon her, that she put the little watering-pot on the table for the present, and sat down near it.
'My dear Louisa,' said Miss Tox, 'will it be the least satisfaction to you, if I venture to observe in reference to that remark, that I, as a humble individual, think your sweet niece in every way most promising?~ 'What do you mean, Lucretia?' returned Mrs Chick, with increased stateliness of manner. 'To what remark of mine, my dear, do you refer?'
'Her being worthy of her name, my love,' replied Miss Tox.
'If,' said Mrs Chick, with solemn patience, 'I have not expressed myself with clearness, Lucretia, the fault of course is mine. There is, perhaps, no reason why I should express myself at all, except the intimacy that has subsisted between us, and which I very much hope, Lucretia - confidently hope - nothing will occur to disturb. Because, why should I do anything else? There is no reason; it would be absurd. But I wish to express myself clearly, Lucretia; and therefore to go back to that remark, I must beg to say that it was not intended to relate to Florence, in any way.'
'Indeed!' returned Miss Tox.
'No,' said Mrs Chick shortly and decisively.
'Pardon me, my dear,' rejoined her meek friend; 'but I cannot have understood it. I fear I am dull.'
Mrs Chick looked round the room and over the way; at the plants, at the bird, at the watering-pot, at almost everything within view, except Miss Tox; and finally dropping her glance upon Miss Tox, for a moment, on its way to the ground, said, looking meanwhile with elevated eyebrows at the carpet:
'When I speak, Lucretia, of her being worthy of the name, I speak of my brother Paul's second wife. I believe I have already said, in effect, if not in the very words I now use, that it is his intention to marry a second wife.'
Miss Tox left her seat in a hurry, and returned to her plants; clipping among the stems and leaves, with as little favour as a barber working at so many pauper heads of hair.
'Whether she will be fully sensible of the distinction conferred upon her,' said Mrs Chick, in a lofty tone, 'is quite another question. I hope she may be. We are bound to think well of one another in this world, and I hope she may be. I have not been advised with myself If I had been advised with, I have no doubt my advice would have been cavalierly received, and therefore it is infinitely better as it is. I much prefer it as it is.'
Miss Tox, with head bent down, still clipped among the plants. Mrs Chick, with energetic shakings of her own head from time to time, continued to hold forth, as if in defiance of somebody. 'If my brother Paul had consulted with me, which he sometimes does - or rather, sometimes used to do; for he will naturally do that no more now, and this is a circumstance which I regard as a relief from responsibility,' said Mrs Chick, hysterically, 'for I thank Heaven I am not jealous - ' here Mrs Chick again shed tears: 'if my brother Paul had come to me, and had said, "Louisa, what kind of qualities would you advise me to look out for, in a wife?" I should certainly have answered, "Paul, you must have family, you must have beauty, you must have dignity, you must have connexion." Those are the words I should have used. You might have led me to the block immediately afterwards,' said Mrs Chick, as if that consequence were highly probable, 'but I should have used them. I should have said, "Paul! You to marry a second time without family! You to marry without beauty! You to marry without dignity! You to marry without connexion! There is nobody in the world, not mad, who could dream of daring to entertain such a preposterous idea!"'
Miss Tox stopped clipping; and with her head among the plants, listened attentively. Perhaps Miss Tox thought there was hope in this exordium, and the warmth of Mrs Chick.
I should have adopted this course of argument,' pursued the discreet lady, 'because I trust I am not a fool. I make no claim to be considered a person of superior intellect - though I believe some people have been extraordinary enough to consider me so; one so little humoured as I am, would very soon be disabused of any such notion; but I trust I am not a downright fool. And to tell ME,' said Mrs Chick with ineffable disdain, 'that my brother Paul Dombey could ever contemplate the possibility of uniting himself to anybody - I don't care who' - she was more sharp and emphatic in that short clause than in any other part of her discourse - 'not possessing these requisites, would be to insult what understanding I have got, as much as if I was to be told that I was born and bred an elephant, which I may be told next,' said Mrs Chick, with resignation. 'It wouldn't surprise me at all. I expect it.'
In the moment's silence that ensued, Miss Tox's scissors gave a feeble clip or two; but Miss Tox's face was still invisible, and Miss Tox's morning gown was agitated. Mrs Chick looked sideways at her, through the intervening plants, and went on to say, in a tone of bland conviction, and as one dwelling on a point of fact that hardly required to be stated:
'Therefore, of course my brother Paul has done what was to be expected of him, and what anybody might have foreseen he would do, if he entered the marriage state again. I confess it takes me rather by surprise, however gratifying; because when Paul went out of town I had no idea at all that he would form any attachment out of town, and he certainly had no attachment when he left here. However, it seems to be extremely desirable in every point of view. I have no doubt the mother is a most genteel and elegant creature, and I have no right whatever to dispute the policy of her living with them: which is Paul's affair, not mine - and as to Paul's choice, herself, I have only seen her picture yet, but that is beautiful indeed. Her name is beautiful too,' said Mrs Chick, shaking her head with energy, and arranging herself in her chair; 'Edith is at once uncommon, as it strikes me, and distinguished. Consequently, Lucretia, I have no doubt you will be happy to hear that the marriage is to take place immediately - of course, you will:' great emphasis again: 'and that you are delighted with this change in the condition of my brother, who has shown you a great deal of pleasant attention at various times.'
Miss Tox made no verbal answer, but took up the little watering-pot with a trembling hand, and looked vacantly round as if considering what article of furniture would be improved by the contents. The room door opening at this crisis of Miss Tox's feelings, she started, laughed aloud, and fell into the arms of the person entering; happily insensible alike of Mrs Chick's indignant countenance and of the Major at his window over the way, who had his double-barrelled eye-glass in full action, and whose face and figure were dilated with Mephistophelean joy.
Not so the expatriated Native, amazed supporter of Miss Tox's swooning form, who, coming straight upstairs, with a polite inquiry touching Miss Tox's health (in exact pursuance of the Major's malicious instructions), had accidentally arrived in the very nick of time to catch the delicate burden in his arms, and to receive the content' of the little watering-pot in his shoe; both of which circumstances, coupled with his consciousness of being closely watched by the wrathful Major, who had threatened the usual penalty in regard of every bone in his skin in case of any failure, combined to render him a moving spectacle of mental and bodily distress.
For some moments, this afflicted foreigner remained clasping Miss Tox to his heart, with an energy of action in remarkable opposition to his disconcerted face, while that poor lady trickled slowly down upon him the very last sprinklings of the little watering-pot, as if he were a delicate exotic (which indeed he was), and might be almost expected to blow while the gentle rain descended. Mrs Chick, at length recovering sufficient presence of mind to interpose, commanded him to drop Miss Tox upon the sofa and withdraw; and the exile promptly obeying, she applied herself to promote Miss Tox's recovery.
But none of that gentle concern which usually characterises the daughters of Eve in their tending of each other; none of that freemasonry in fainting, by which they are generally bound together In a mysterious bond of sisterhood; was visible in Mrs Chick's demeanour. Rather like the executioner who restores the victim to sensation previous to proceeding with the torture (or was wont to do so, in the good old times for which all true men wear perpetual mourning), did Mrs Chick administer the smelling-bottle, the slapping on the hands, the dashing of cold water on the face, and the other proved remedies. And when, at length, Miss Tox opened her eyes, and gradually became restored to animation and consciousness, Mrs Chick drew off as from a criminal, and reversing the precedent of the murdered king of Denmark, regarded her more in anger than In sorrow.'
'Lucretia!' said Mrs Chick 'I will not attempt to disguise what I feel. My eyes are opened, all at once. I wouldn't have believed this, if a Saint had told it to me.
'I am foolish to give way to faintness,' Miss Tox faltered. 'I shall be better presently.'
'You will be better presently, Lucretia!' repeated Mrs Chick, with exceeding scorn. 'Do you suppose I am blind? Do you imagine I am in my second childhood? No, Lucretia! I am obliged to you!'
Miss Tox directed an imploring, helpless kind of look towards her friend, and put her handkerchief before her face.
'If anyone had told me this yesterday,' said Mrs Chick, with majesty, 'or even half-an-hour ago, I should have been tempted, I almost believe, to strike them to the earth. Lucretia Tox, my eyes are opened to you all at once. The scales:' here Mrs Chick cast down an imaginary pair, such as are commonly used in grocers' shops: 'have fallen from my sight. The blindness of my confidence is past, Lucretia. It has been abused and played, upon, and evasion is quite out of the question now, I assure you.
'Oh! to what do you allude so cruelly, my love?' asked Miss Tox, through her tears.
'Lucretia,' said Mrs Chick, 'ask your own heart. I must entreat you not to address me by any such familiar term as you have just used, if you please. I have some self-respect left, though you may think otherwise.'
'Oh, Louisa!' cried Miss Tox. 'How can you speak to me like that?'
'How can I speak to you like that?' retorted Mrs Chick, who, in default of having any particular argument to sustain herself upon, relied principally on such repetitions for her most withering effects. 'Like that! You may well say like that, indeed!'
Miss Tox sobbed pitifully.
'The idea!' said Mrs Chick, 'of your having basked at my brother's fireside, like a serpent, and wound yourself, through me, almost into his confidence, Lucretia, that you might, in secret, entertain designs upon him, and dare to aspire to contemplate the possibility of his uniting himself to you! Why, it is an idea,' said Mrs Chick, with sarcastic dignity, 'the absurdity of which almost relieves its treachery.'
'Pray, Louisa,' urged Miss Tox, 'do not say such dreadful things.'
'Dreadful things!' repeated Mrs Chick. 'Dreadful things! Is it not a fact, Lucretia, that you have just now been unable to command your feelings even before me, whose eyes you had so completely closed?'
'I have made no complaint,' sobbed Miss Tox. 'I have said nothing. If I have been a little overpowered by your news, Louisa, and have ever had any lingering thought that Mr Dombey was inclined to be particular towards me, surely you will not condemn me.'
'She is going to say,' said Mrs Chick, addressing herself to the whole of the furniture, in a comprehensive glance of resignation and appeal, 'She is going to say - I know it - that I have encouraged her!'
'I don't wish to exchange reproaches, dear Louisa,' sobbed Miss Tox 'Nor do I wish to complain. But, in my own defence - '
'Yes,' cried Mrs Chick, looking round the room with a prophetic smile, 'that's what she's going to say. I knew it. You had better say it. Say it openly! Be open, Lucretia Tox,' said Mrs Chick, with desperate sternness, 'whatever you are.'
'In my own defence,' faltered Miss Tox, 'and only In my own defence against your unkind words, my dear Louisa, I would merely ask you if you haven't often favoured such a fancy, and even said it might happen, for anything we could tell?'
'There is a point,' said Mrs Chick, rising, not as if she were going to stop at the floor, but as if she were about to soar up, high, into her native skies, 'beyond which endurance becomes ridiculous, if not culpable. I can bear much; but not too much. What spell was on me when I came into this house this day, I don't know; but I had a presentiment - a dark presentiment,' said Mrs Chick, with a shiver, 'that something was going to happen. Well may I have had that foreboding, Lucretia, when my confidence of many years is destroyed in an instant, when my eyes are opened all at once, and when I find you revealed in your true colours. Lucretia, I have been mistaken in you. It is better for us both that this subject should end here. I wish you well, and I shall ever wish you well. But, as an individual who desires to be true to herself in her own poor position, whatever that position may be, or may not be - and as the sister of my brother - and as the sister-in-law of my brother's wife - and as a connexion by marriage of my brother's wife's mother - may I be permitted to add, as a Dombey? - I can wish you nothing else but good morning.'
These words, delivered with cutting suavity, tempered and chastened by a lofty air of moral rectitude, carried the speaker to the door. There she inclined her head in a ghostly and statue-like manner, and so withdrew to her carriage, to seek comfort and consolation in the arms of Mr Chick, her lord.
Figuratively speaking, that is to say; for the arms of Mr Chick were full of his newspaper. Neither did that gentleman address his eyes towards his wife otherwise than by stealth. Neither did he offer any consolation whatever. In short, he sat reading, and humming fag ends of tunes, and sometimes glancing furtively at her without delivering himself of a word, good, bad, or indifferent.
In the meantime Mrs Chick sat swelling and bridling, and tossing her head, as if she were still repeating that solemn formula of farewell to Lucretia Tox. At length, she said aloud, 'Oh the extent to which her eyes had been opened that day!'
'To which your eyes have been opened, my dear!' repeated Mr Chick.
'Oh, don't talk to me!' said Mrs Chic 'if you can bear to see me in this state, and not ask me what the matter is, you had better hold your tongue for ever.'
'What is the matter, my dear?' asked Mr Chick
'To think,' said Mrs Chick, in a state of soliloquy, 'that she should ever have conceived the base idea of connecting herself with our family by a marriage with Paul! To think that when she was playing at horses with that dear child who is now in his grave - I never liked it at the time - she should have been hiding such a double-faced design! I wonder she was never afraid that something would happen to her. She is fortunate if nothing does.'
'I really thought, my dear,' said Mr Chick slowly, after rubbing the bridge of his nose for some time with his newspaper, 'that you had gone on the same tack yourself, all along, until this morning; and had thought it would be a convenient thing enough, if it could have been brought about.'
Mrs Chick instantly burst into tears, and told Mr Chick that if he wished to trample upon her with his boots, he had better do It.
'But with Lucretia Tox I have done,' said Mrs Chick, after abandoning herself to her feelings for some minutes, to Mr Chick's great terror. 'I can bear to resign Paul's confidence in favour of one who, I hope and trust, may be deserving of it, and with whom he has a perfect right to replace poor Fanny if he chooses; I can bear to be informed, In Paul's cool manner, of such a change in his plans, and never to be consulted until all is settled and determined; but deceit I can not bear, and with Lucretia Tox I have done. It is better as it is,' said Mrs Chick, piously; 'much better. It would have been a long time before I could have accommodated myself comfortably with her, after this; and I really don't know, as Paul is going to be very grand, and these are people of condition, that she would have been quite presentable, and might not have compromised myself. There's a providence in everything; everything works for the best; I have been tried today but on the whole I do not regret it.'
In which Christian spirit, Mrs Chick dried her eyes and smoothed her lap, and sat as became a person calm under a great wrong. Mr Chick feeling his unworthiness no doubt, took an early opportunity of being set down at a street corner and walking away whistling, with his shoulders very much raised, and his hands in his pockets.
While poor excommunicated Miss Tox, who, if she were a fawner and toad-eater, was at least an honest and a constant one, and had ever borne a faithful friendship towards her impeacher and had been truly absorbed and swallowed up in devotion to the magnificence of Mr Dombey - while poor excommunicated Miss Tox watered her plants with her tears, and felt that it was winter in Princess's Place.
跟董贝先生公馆有关的这些以往罕见的现象——脚手架啦，梯子啦，还有那些头上扎着手绢、像会飞的鸟儿一样，在窗口瞪着眼睛往里看的工人啦，——托克斯小姐丝毫也不知道。在这一段多事的时期中的一个早晨，她按照平常的食谱吃完了早餐，也就是说，吃了一个咬起来喀嚓喀嚓发响的花卷蛋糕，一个新鲜的（或卖蛋人保证是新鲜的）鸡蛋和喝了一小壶茶（在这个小壶里，分量为一银勺的茶叶是为托克斯小姐沏的；另一银勺是为这个茶壶沏的；这是善良的主妇们所喜爱的一种奇思妙想）；然后托克斯小姐上楼去，准备把“鸟儿圆舞曲”曲谱摆在大键琴上，给花浇浇水和整整枝叶，给小摆设抹抹灰尘，并按照她平日的习惯，把她的小客厅布置成为公主广场的一个花环。
托克斯小姐戴上一双枯叶色的旧式手套（她习惯在干这些活的时候戴上它，在其他时候则把它藏在桌子抽屉里，不让别人看见），有条不紊地动手工作；开始是把“鸟儿圆舞曲”曲谱摆好；由于自然的联想，她接着跑去照料她的鸟儿——这是一只胸口很窄的金丝雀，它已经老了，羽毛十分蓬乱，但却是一个声音尖锐的歌唱家，在公主广场是很有名的——；按照次序，下面轮到瓷做的装饰品，纸做的捕蝇笼，等等。然后她按时地转到花卉上，根据托克斯小姐十分信服的生物学的理由，需要用剪刀把它们这里那里剪去一些。
这天早晨，托克斯小姐是不慌不忙地前去照料花卉的。气候温暖，南风吹拂，公主广场上荡漾着夏天的气息，这使托克斯小姐的思想转到了乡间。“公主纹章”酒馆的服务员拿着一个喷壶出来洒水，在公主广场上布满了流动的图案；经他这样喷洒之后，长着野草的土地散发出了新鲜的香气——托克斯小姐说，这完全是野草生长的香气。从大街拐角偷偷地透进一点阳光，那些被烟熏黑的麻雀跳过它，又跳回来，在阳光下闪闪发亮；要不然它们就像沐浴在溪流中一样，沐浴在阳光中，成了光彩夺目的麻雀，好像从没和烟囱为邻似的。
“公主纹章”酒馆的橱窗中显眼地陈列着赞扬姜汁啤酒的广告，广告中画着口渴的顾客正被翻滚着的泡沫淹没或被飞出的瓶塞打得不省人事。城外的什么地方，人们正在翻晒晚割的干草，虽然香气要经过远远的距离才能传过来，而且还得跟穷人茅屋中间散发出的迥然不同的气味相竞争（有些值得尊敬的大人先生们认为瘟疫是我们祖先智慧不可缺少的部分，并竭尽他们微薄的力量来把这些肮脏破烂的茅屋保存下来；愿上帝奖赏这些大人先生们吧！），然而这些香气还是微弱地飘送到了公主广场，低声诉说着大自然和它有益于健康的空气，而且无视市参议员和骑士先生们的反对，（他们贤明地点一点头，这转动的世界也就会停止不动；而他们是怎样点头的啊！），甚至把这些喁喁私语也传送到了囚犯、俘虏以及那些孤独无依和遭受压迫的人们那里（这样的事情总是会发生的）。
托克斯小姐在窗下坐下，想到了她死去的好爸爸——在海关署当公务员的托克斯先生；想到了她在一个海港度过的童年，那海港带有几分乡村风味，附近有大量的冷焦油；她沉湎在往昔岁月中那些草地的甜蜜的回忆之中；那些闪烁着毛茛的草地，真好像布满金色的星星的苍穹上下颠倒过来似的；她记得她曾经怎样用蒲公英的梗子为那些海誓山盟、主要穿着土布的年轻情侣们编织脚镣，这些脚镣不久又怎样枯萎和破碎了。
托克斯小姐坐在窗下，眼望着麻雀和闪烁的阳光，又想到了她死去的，妈妈——那位头上敷粉和梳了一根辫子的人的姐姐——，想到了她的善行美德和她的风湿病。有一个两腿粗壮、声音刺耳的男子跑到公主广场来卖花；他头上沉重的篮子把他的帽子压得像一块黑色的松饼一样；他每么喝一声，胆怯的雏菊就颤抖一下，仿佛他是个叫卖小孩的吃人魔鬼似的；这时托克斯小姐夏日的回忆强烈地涌上心头，她摇摇头，咕哝着说，她将在她没有觉察之前就变老了——这似乎是很可能的。
托克斯小姐在沉思状态中开始想到了董贝先生，也许是因为少校已经回到了对面的住所，刚才还从他的窗口向她鞠躬致意的缘故。要不然，还有什么别的原因能使托克斯小姐把董贝先生跟她关于夏天与蒲公英编织的脚镣的回忆联系起来呢？他是不是快活一些了？托克斯小姐想。他是不是安于命运的摆布？他是不是将会再婚呢？如果是的话，跟谁结婚呢？她是个什么样的人呢！
托克斯小姐的脸上泛起一阵红晕——天气是温暖的——，因为当她正沉陷在这些思想中的时候，她回过头去，惊奇地看到了烟囱上镜子里正反照出她自己在沉思的形象。当她看到一辆小马车驶进公主广场，直奔她的家门时，脸上又涌上另一阵红晕。托克斯小姐站起身来，急忙拿起剪刀，最后走到花旁；当奇克夫人走进房间的时候，她正十分忙碌地剪着。
“我最亲爱的朋友，您好吗？”托克斯小姐张开胳膊，高声喊道。
托克斯小姐的最亲爱的朋友的态度中有几分庄严，但她吻了托克斯小姐，说道，“卢克丽霞，谢谢您，我很好。我希望您也一样。嗯赫！”
奇克夫人奇特地一声一声不连贯的咳嗽，这是连声咳嗽的导火线或前奏曲。
“您对我真好，这么早就来看我，我亲爱的！”托克斯小姐继续说道，“您吃过早饭了吗？”
“谢谢您，卢克丽霞，”奇克夫人说道，“我吃过了。今天早饭吃得很早——”这位善良的夫人似乎对公主广场感到好奇，一边说一边环顾着四周，“是跟我哥哥一道吃的，他已经回家了。”
“我想他比过去好些了吧，我亲爱的，”托克斯小姐结结巴巴地说道。
“他好得多了，谢谢您，嗯赫！”
“亲爱的路易莎，你得注意您的咳嗽，”托克斯小姐说道。
“没什么，”奇克夫人回答道，“只不过是因为气候变化的缘故。我们必须预料到会有变化。”
“是指气候变化吗？”托克斯小姐以她特有的纯朴的表情问道。
“任何事情的变化，”奇克夫人回答道，“我们当然必须预料到。这是个充满变化的世界。任何人如果企图对抗或回避那些显而易见的真理，都会使我大吃一惊的，卢克丽霞，并会大大改变我对她（他）是否通晓事理的看法的。变化！”奇克夫人带着严肃的哲学意味，高声喊道，“哎呀，天哪，还有什么不发生变化的！即使是蚕，我本以为它不会在这方面给自己找麻烦的，可是它却连续不断地变成各种意想不到的东西。”
“我的路易莎，”温柔的托克斯小姐说道，“总是举出巧妙的例子来说明。”
“卢克丽霞，”稍稍温和下来的奇克夫人回答道，“我相信，您这么说和这么想是您的一片好意。我希望，我们两人谁也不会有什么理由来改变彼此的看法。”
“我完全相信，”托克斯小姐回答道。
奇克夫人像先前一样咳嗽，并用她的阳伞的象牙顶在地毯上画着线条。托克斯小姐熟悉她这位女朋友的脾气，知道她稍有一点疲劳或烦恼，就容易急躁地东拉西扯，所以趁着停息的时间，改变了话题。
“请原谅我，我亲爱的路易莎，”托克斯小姐说，“不过我好像在马车里看到了奇克先生雄伟的身姿了？”
“他是在那里，”奇克夫人说道，“不过让他待在那里吧。他有报纸，他将会十分甘心乐意地在那里消磨掉两小时。继续弄你的花吧，卢克丽霞，请允许我坐在这里休息一下。”“我的路易莎知道，”托克斯小姐说道，“在我们这样的朋友之间，根本不必讲什么礼节。因此——”因此托克斯小姐就用行动，而不是用言语来结束她的这句话；她又戴上原先脱下的手套，重新拿起剪刀，开始又细心又勤奋地修剪叶子。
“弗洛伦斯也回家了，”奇克夫人头歪向一边，用阳伞顶在地板上画着图画，这样默默坐了一会儿之后说道，“说实在的，弗洛伦斯现在年纪太大了，不能再让她过她过去习惯了的孤独的生活了。她当然是太大了。这是毫无疑问的。说真的，谁要是提出不同的看法的话，那么我们就不会再尊敬他们。不管我的愿望怎么样，我也不能再尊敬他们了。我们不能把我们的感情支配到那样的地步。”
托克斯小姐虽然并不十分理解这些话的含意，但她表示同意。
“如果她是个奇怪的女孩子，”奇克夫人说道，“如果我的哥哥保罗在经历了所有那些悲伤的事情、遭受了所有那些可怕的挫折之后，觉得跟她在一起不很自在的话，那么该怎么回答这个问题呢？回答是：他必须作出努力，他应当作出努力。我们这个家族的一个显著的特点就是能作出努力。保罗是我们一家之首，几乎是我们这个家族留下的唯一代表——
因为我算得了什么？——我是个无足轻重的人。”
“我亲爱的，”托克斯小姐表示异议地说道。
奇克夫人抹干了一时间汪汪涌出的眼泪，继续说道：
“所以，他比任何时候都应当作出努力。虽然他所作出的努力使我感到了一种震惊——因为我的性格是很软弱和很可笑的，这无论如何也不是一件值得高兴的事，我时常希望我的心是块大理石板，或是块铺路的石头——”
“我亲爱的路易莎，”托克斯小姐又表示异议地说道。
“可是我还是十分高兴地知道他不愧为他本人，也不愧姓董贝这个姓；虽然，这是当然的，我过去也总知道，他将会这样的！我仅仅希望，”奇克夫人停了一下之后说道，“她也配姓那个姓。”
托克斯小姐从水罐中给一个绿色的小喷水壶中灌满了水，当她灌完之后抬起眼睛的时候，她十分吃惊地看到奇克夫人用那么意味深长的神色看着她的脸孔，因此她就把小喷水壶暂时放在桌子上，在桌旁坐下。
“我亲爱的路易莎，”托克斯小说道，“如果我听了您的那句话，冒昧地回答说，我这个卑贱的人认为您可爱的侄女在各方面都是个极有希望的孩子的话，那么也许你会很不高兴吧？”
“您是什么意思，卢克丽霞？”奇克夫人用更加庄重的态度回答道，“您是指我的哪句话，我亲爱的？”
“她配姓那个姓，我亲爱的，”托克斯小姐回答道。
“如果我没有把话说明白的话，”奇克夫人庄严而耐心地说道，“卢克丽霞，那么这自然是我的过错。要不是由于我们交情深厚，也许我根本就没有必要说明白，卢克丽霞，我非常希望——满怀信心地希望——，不会发生任何事情来破坏我们亲密的友谊。因为我怎么能不这样想呢？没有任何理由发生那样的事情。那是荒谬的。但是我希望把我的话说明白，卢克丽霞，因此我想回到我所说的那句话，我得说，我那句话绝对不是指弗洛伦斯。”
“真的吗？”托克斯小姐回答道。
“是的，”奇克夫人简短而坚决地说道。
“请原谅我，我亲爱的，”她温顺的朋友回答道，“但是我听不明白。我担心我的脑子迟钝了。”
奇克夫人向房间四处看看，又看看广场对过；看看花，看看鸟，看看喷水壶，几乎看了在她视野之内的一切东西，只是没有看托克斯小姐；最后当她向地面低下眼睛时，她向托克斯小姐匆匆地看了一眼，然后看着地毯，但却又扬起眉毛，说道：
“我说她要配姓那个姓，卢克丽霞，我是指我哥哥保罗的第二个妻子。虽然我没有使用现在的语言，但我想我已经表达了我的意思。他打算再婚。”
托克斯小姐急忙离开座位，回到花旁，像理发师给穷人理发那样毫不留情地剪着枝叶。
“她是不是将充分认识到给予她的光荣，”奇克夫人用高傲的声音说道，“这完全是另外一个问题。我希望她会认识到。在这个世界上我们应当彼此往好里去想，我希望她会认识到。这件事没有跟我商量过。如果跟我商量的话，那么他也不会把我的意见当一回事，所以像现在这样做反而无比地好得多。
我宁肯像现在这样。”
托克斯小姐低着头，依旧在剪枝叶，奇克夫人不时有力地摇摇头，继续说下去，仿佛在向什么人挑战似的。
“如果我的哥哥保罗跟我商量一下的话——他有时是跟我商量的，或者说得正确些，他过去有时是常爱跟我商量的；要知道，他现在自然不会再跟我商量了，我认为这倒使我解脱了责任，”奇克夫人歇斯底里地说道，“因为谢天谢地，我并不妒嫉——”这时奇克夫人又掉下了眼泪，“如果我的哥哥保罗前来对我说，‘路易莎，你给我出出主意，我找的妻子要具备什么条件？’我自然会回答：‘保罗，你必须找一个门第高贵的，你必须找一个容貌漂亮的，你必须找一个举止端庄的，你必须找一个亲戚体面的，’这些就是我要说的话。即使在这之后你立即把我带去上断头台，”奇克夫人说道，仿佛这一后果是很可能发生似的，“那么我还是要说这些话。如果我竟会对他说，‘保罗！你娶第二个妻子不要有高贵的门第！不要有漂亮的容貌！不要有端庄的举止！不要有体面的亲戚！’世界上的人只要不是发疯的，谁也不会梦想到敢有这样荒谬的想法！”
托克斯小姐停止剪枝叶，把头低向花丛，全神贯注地听着。也许托克斯小姐以为在这番开场白和奇克夫人的热情中存在着一些希望吧。
“我必须采取这种议论事理的程序，”这位考虑周到的夫人继续说道，“因为我相信，我不是个傻瓜。我并不奢望人们把我看成是智慧高超的人（虽然我相信，有人实在离奇，竟会这样看我，不过对于像我这样一个没有人会去巴结迎合的人，这类错误不久就会纠正过来的），可是我希望，我不是一个十足的傻瓜。要是有人对我说，”奇克夫人用难以形容的轻蔑的表情说道，“我的哥哥保罗•董贝可以考虑跟不具备这些不可缺少的条件的任何人成亲，——我不管是谁对我说的——”她说这短语的语气比她话语中的任何其他部分都更为尖锐和有力，“那就是侮辱我所具有的理智，那就等于告诉我，我生下来是只象，并像象一样地被养大；也许下一步就要对我这么说了，”奇克夫人露出逆来顺受的表情，说道，“这一点并不会使我吃惊。我等待着。”
在接着短暂的沉默中，托克斯小姐的剪刀有气无力地剪了一两下，但是托克斯小姐的脸却依旧看不到。托克斯小姐早晨穿的长外衣颤抖着。奇克夫人通过中间挡隔着的花斜看着她，然后像一个在详细谈论不需要解释的事实的人一样，用深信不疑的语气，继续说下去：
“因此，我的哥哥保罗只要打算再婚，他自然做了人们预料他会做的事情，任何人都可以预见他会做的事情。我承认，这虽然使我高兴，但却使我相当吃惊，因为当保罗离开伦敦的时候，我根本没想到他会在伦敦以外的地方谈上恋爱；他离开这里的时候，当然是没有恋爱的。不过看来，无论从哪一方面看，这都是极为称心满意的。我毫无疑问，那母亲是一位极有教养、极为高尚的人，我也没有任何权利去争论，她跟他们住在一起是否合适，因为这是保罗的事，不是我的事。至于保罗挑中的人儿本人，我现在还只看到她的照片，不过从照片看，那可确实是个美人。她的名字也美，”奇克夫人有力地摇摇头，在椅子里移正身体，说道，“伊迪丝这个名字，我觉得既不俗，又高贵。因此，卢克丽霞，我毫不怀疑，您将会高兴听到，婚礼不久就要举行了，——当然，您将会高兴，”她又大大地加强了语气，“您将会对我哥哥生活中的这个变化感到快乐，他曾多次极为善意地关心过您。”
托克斯小姐没有用言语回答，但却用颤抖的手拿起小喷水壶，茫然失措地看看四周，仿佛在考虑哪一件家具用壶里的水浇一浇会好一些似的。当托克斯小姐的感情处在这一紧急关头的时候，房间的门开了，她吃了一惊，高声大笑，并倒在进门来的人的怀里；幸亏这时她没有看到奇克夫人的愤怒的脸色，也没有看到广场对过的少校在窗口用双筒望远镜使劲看着，他的脸上和身姿中都显露出梅菲斯托菲尔式的喜悦。
被放逐出国的本地人就是托克斯小姐晕倒的身体的吃惊的支撑者，他这时的心情跟他主人完全不同。他严格执行少校存心不良的指示，走上楼来，打算有礼貌地打听一下托克斯小姐的健康情况，碰巧就在这个紧要的关头到达，把这娇弱的负担接在怀里，而他的鞋子则接受了小喷水壶里流出来的水。这两种情况，再加上他知道怒气冲冲的少校现在正在密切注视他（少校曾威胁他，一旦失败，就要照常对他进行惩罚，他全身的每根骨头都要遭殃），所以他遭受着精神上和肉体上的双重痛苦，情景实在悲惨动人。
这位苦恼的外国人用一种和他仓皇失措的脸部表情绝不相称的劲头，把托克斯小姐在胸前一直抱了好几秒钟，这时候，这位可怜的小姐让小喷水壶里最后的一点水一滴一滴慢慢地流到他身上，仿佛他是一株纤弱的外国植物（他是从外国来的，这点倒也确实），在这小雨的滋润下，几乎可以期待它开出花朵来。奇克夫人终于充分恢复了镇静，开始过问这件事情；她嘱咐本地人把托克斯小姐放到沙发上，然后出去；这位亡命他乡的人立即遵命照办。在这之后，她就投入全部精力，设法使托克斯小姐清醒过来。
这两位夏娃的女儿①平时相互照料中的特色是亲切的关怀，平时把她们联结在神秘的姐妹关系的纽带之中的是遇难相助的互济会精神②，可是这一切在奇克夫人这时的态度中丝毫也看不到了。她这时倒很像先让受难者恢复知觉，然后再对他继续进行折磨的刽子手那样（或者就像在善良的古代人们经常这样做的那样，直到今天所有正直的人们还为此穿着永久性的丧服），采取了嗅醒药瓶、敲手、在脸上冲冷水以及其他有效的措施。当托克斯小姐终于张开眼睛，恢复了精神和知觉的时候，奇克夫人就像离开犯人似地离开了她，而且把被暗杀的丹麦国王的先例颠倒过来，望着她时脸上的神色愤怒多于悲哀③。
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①夏娃的女儿：指妇女。圣经中称人类是由亚当和夏娃所生。
②互济会：18世纪在英国出现后流行于欧洲的秘密组织，所倡宗旨为互济、友爱、完成大德。
③莎士比亚著名悲剧《哈姆雷特》叙述丹麦国王（哈姆雷特的父亲）被他的弟弟所暗杀。国王的鬼魂向哈姆雷特透露了事实真相，哈姆雷特后来为他的父亲报了仇。
该剧第一幕第二场：
哈姆雷特：那么你们没有看见它（指国王的鬼魂）的脸吗？
霍拉旭：啊，看见的，殿下，它的脸颊是掀起的。
哈姆雷特：怎么，它瞧上去像在发怒吗？
霍拉旭：它脸上悲哀多于愤怒。
托克斯小姐是受害者，但奇克夫人望着她时，脸上的神色反而是愤怒多于悲哀；所以是把被暗杀的丹麦国王的先例颠倒过来了。
“卢克丽霞！”奇克夫人说道，“我不打算掩饰我的感觉。我的眼睛突然睁开了。过去即使是由圣人来告诉我，我也还不会相信这一点。”
“我真没出息，招架不住头晕，”托克斯小姐结结巴巴地说道，“我立刻就会好的。”
“您立刻就会好的，卢克丽霞！”奇克夫人极其轻蔑地重复着，说道，“您以为我的眼睛瞎了吗？您以为我还是个孩子吗？不对，卢克丽霞！我感谢您！”
托克斯小姐用苦苦哀求和无可奈何的眼光向她的朋友望了一眼，并用手绢捂住脸孔。
“如果昨天或甚至半点钟以前有人把这告诉我的话，”奇克夫人威风凛凛地说道，“那么我想我就忍不住要把他打翻在地。卢克丽霞•托克斯，我的眼睛突然睁开了。阴翳已经从我的眼睛上消失了。”这时奇克夫人做了个抛弃的手势，“我对您的盲目信任已经过去了，卢克丽霞。我的信任已经被您冷酷无情地误用和玩弄了。告诉您，现在您想支吾搪塞是根本办不到的。”
“啊！您这么恶狠狠地指的是什么呀，我亲爱的？”托克斯小姐流着眼泪问道。
“卢克丽霞，”奇克夫人说道，“问问您自己的心吧。我务必请求您别再用您刚才使用的那种亲密的字眼来称呼我了。虽然您可能会有另外的想法，但我还留有几分自尊心呢。”
“啊，路易莎！”托克斯小姐喊道，“您怎么能这样对我说话呢？”
“我怎么能这样对您说话呢？”奇克夫人反驳道；当她找不到有力的论据来支持自己的时候，主要采取这种重复对方话语的办法来达到最能使人胆怯心寒的效果，“这样对您说话！不错，您确实可以问这个问题！”
托克斯小姐可怜地哭泣着。
“想一想吧！”奇克夫人说道，“您曾经像蛇一样在我哥哥的炉边取暖，拐弯抹角地通过我，几乎取得了他的信任，以便对他进行暗算，而且居然还胆敢想到他可能跟您结为夫妻！啊！这个想法真是荒唐可笑极了，”奇克夫人讥讽而尊严地说道，“几乎使人注意不到它所包含的奸诈了。”
“求求您，路易莎，”托克斯小姐哀求道，“请您别说这样可怕的事情！”
“可怕的事情！”奇克夫人重复道，“可怕的事情！刚才甚至在我面前，在一个被您完全蒙住眼睛的人面前，您都控制不住自己的感情！难道这不是事实吗，卢克丽霞？”
“我没有抱怨什么，”托克斯小姐哭泣着说道，“我没有说什么。如果我听到您的消息有些震惊，路易莎，如果我过去心中闪过这样的想法：董贝先生对我特别关心的话，那么您自然是不该责备我的。”
“她是想说，”奇克夫人用听天由命和恳求的眼光向所有的家具全都看了一眼，对它们说道，“她是想说——我知道的——我曾经鼓励过她！”
“我不希望互相责备，亲爱的路易莎，”托克斯小姐哭泣着说道，“我也不希望抱怨。我只是为我自己辩护——”
“对了！奇克夫人含着预见性的微笑，看看房间四周，喊道，“这就是她想要说的。我早料到了。您最好说出来。毫无隐瞒地说出来！要毫无隐瞒，卢克丽霞•托克斯，”奇克夫人严酷无情地说道，“不管您是什么人。”
“我是为我自己辩护，”托克斯小姐结结巴巴地说道，“我只是听了您那些冷酷的话以后为我自己辩护几句。我亲爱的路易莎，我只想问您一句，难道您不是也时常纵容这样的幻想的吗，您不是甚至还说，‘谁知道呢？一切都可能发生的’
吗？”
“这里有个界限，”奇克夫人说道，一边站起来，仿佛不打算在地板上站住，而是想腾空飞进天国似的，“超过这个界限，再忍耐下去，不说是有罪的，也成了荒谬可笑的了。我能极大地忍耐；但不能过分忍耐。今天我走进这屋子的时候，究竟我给什么符咒镇住了，我不知道，但是我有一种预感，一种不祥的预感，”奇克夫人哆嗦了一下，说道，“好像要发生什么事情似的。我这预感可不奇巧得很吗，卢克丽霞？我这许多年的信任一刹那间就毁掉了，我的眼睛突然之间睁开了，我看见您露出了您的真面目。卢克丽霞，我过去错看了您了。我们最好就把话讲到这里为止。我祝您好，我将永远祝您好。可是作为一个想忠于她自己的人（她是一个地位卑微的人，不论她的地位可能是卑微的还是可能并不卑微的），作为我哥哥的妹妹、作为我嫂子的小姑子，作为我哥哥岳母的亲戚——是不是可以允许我再加上一句，作为董贝家里的一员——，我除了祝您早上好之外，就不再对您祝愿别的什么了。”
这些话是用尖刻而又平静的语气说出的，而且又是用一种理直气壮的高傲神态进行调节与控制的；话说完之后，说话的人已经走到门口。然后她用鬼怪般的，就像雕像一样的姿态，低着头，回到她的马车里，从她的丈夫奇克先生的怀中寻求安慰和爱抚。
我们在这里是采用比喻性的说法，因为奇克先生的怀里实际上尽是报纸。这位先生的眼睛也没有正面看着她的妻子，只不过是偶尔偷偷地看一眼罢了。他也没有给她任何安慰。总之，他坐在那里阅读着，哼唱着曲调的片断，有时悄悄地看她一眼；不管是好话、坏话、还是不好不坏的话，他一句也不说。
在这同一个时候，奇克夫人坐在那里，怒气冲冲地昂着头，摇来晃去，仿佛还在重复说着向卢克丽霞•托克斯的庄严的告别辞。最后，她高声说道，“啊，今天她的眼睛睁得多么开啊！”
“你的眼睛睁得多开啊，我亲爱的？”奇克先生重复着说道。“哦，别跟我讲话！”奇克夫人说道，“如果你能用这样一种姿态看我，也不问一下发生了什么事的话，那么你最好把嘴巴永远闭着。”
“发生了什么事啦，我亲爱的？”奇克先生问道。
“想一下吧！”奇克夫人自言自语地说道，“她竟居然抱着这样卑鄙的企图，想通过跟保罗成亲来跟我们家攀上亲戚关系！想一想吧！当她跟那个现在已躺在坟墓里的可爱的孩子玩马的时候——我当时就不喜欢这个游戏——，她竟居然在心里隐藏着这样阴险的野心！我真奇怪，她从不担心这会使她碰上倒霉的事。如果没碰上什么事的话，那她倒走运了。”
“亲爱的，我真认为，”奇克先生用报纸把鼻梁擦了一些时候之后，慢吞吞地说道，“直到今天早上之前，你自己也是一直向着同一个目标前进的呢。你还认为，如果能实现的话，这倒是方便极了。”
奇克夫人立刻眼泪夺眶而出地大哭起来，并对奇克先生说，如果他想用靴子踩她的话，那么他最好就踩。
“但是我已经跟卢克丽霞•托克斯一刀两断了，”奇克夫人听凭自己沉溺在迸发的感情之中，使奇克先生感到极大的恐慌；过了几分钟之后，她说道，“我可以容忍保罗向一个人表示喜爱，我希望和相信她是可以受之无愧的；如果他愿意的话，那么他也完全有权利让她来代替可怜的范妮；我可以容忍保罗用他向来不动感情的态度把他计划中的这个变化告诉我，在一切都已决定、办妥之前，一次也没跟我商量过；但是奸诈却是我所不能容忍的；我已跟卢克丽霞•托克斯一刀两断了。像现在这样子倒是更好，”奇克夫人真心诚意地说道，“好得多。要不然，在这之后，我得需要很长的时间才能跟她和解。现在，保罗地位很高，这些人出身又很尊贵，我实在不知道她在那种场合是不是能拿得出去，她会不会糟蹋我的声誉呢？一切事情都有天意，一切事情都向着最好的方面发展；今天我经受了考验，但是我不后悔。”
奇克夫人怀着这种基督徒的精神，擦干了眼泪，抚平膝盖上的衣服，像一个冷静地忍耐着极大委屈的人那样坐着。奇克先生无疑感觉到自己的渺小无用，就趁早找了个机会，在一条街道的拐角下了车，离开了；他高耸着肩膀，手插在衣袋里，一边走，一边吹着口哨。
如果说托克斯小姐是位巴结讨好、喜爱拍马屁的人的话，那么至少她是诚实的和始终如一的；对于现在严厉责备她的人，她过去确实怀着忠实的友谊，而且一心一意、五体投地地崇拜着伟大的董贝先生；这时候，这位可怜的被革除在外的托克斯小姐用她的眼泪浇着花，感到公主广场已经是冬天了。
Chapter 30
The interval before the Marriage
Although the enchanted house was no more, and the working world had broken into it, and was hammering and crashing and tramping up and down stairs all day long keeping Diogenes in an incessant paroxysm of barking, from sunrise to sunset - evidently convinced that his enemy had got the better of him at last, and was then sacking the premises in triumphant defiance - there was, at first, no other great change in the method of Florence's life. At night, when the workpeople went away, the house was dreary and deserted again; and Florence, listening to their voices echoing through the hall and staircase as they departed, pictured to herself the cheerful homes to which the were returning, and the children who were waiting for them, and was glad to think that they were merry and well pleased to go.
She welcomed back the evening silence as an old friend, but it came now with an altered face, and looked more kindly on her. Fresh hope was in it. The beautiful lady who had soothed and carressed her, in the very room in which her heart had been so wrung, was a spirit of promise to her. Soft shadows of the bright life dawning, when her father's affection should be gradually won, and all, or much should be restored, of what she had lost on the dark day when a mother's love had faded with a mother's last breath on her cheek, moved about her in the twilight and were welcome company. Peeping at the rosy children her neighbours, it was a new and precious sensation to think that they might soon speak together and know each other; when she would not fear, as of old, to show herself before them, lest they should be grieved to see her in her black dress sitting there alone!
In her thoughts of her new mother, and in the love and trust overflowing her pure heart towards her, Florence loved her own dead mother more and more. She had no fear of setting up a rival in her breast. The new flower sprang from the deep-planted and long-cherished root, she knew. Every gentle word that had fallen from the lips of the beautiful lady, sounded to Florence like an echo of the voice long hushed and silent. How could she love that memory less for living tenderness, when it was her memory of all parental tenderness and love!
Florence was, one day, sitting reading in her room, and thinking of the lady and her promised visit soon - for her book turned on a kindred subject - when, raising her eyes, she saw her standing in the doorway.
'Mama!' cried Florence, joyfully meeting her. 'Come again!'
'Not Mama yet,' returned the lady, with a serious smile, as she encircled Florence's neck with her arm.
'But very soon to be,' cried Florence.
'Very soon now, Florence: very soon.
Edith bent her head a little, so as to press the blooming cheek of Florence against her own, and for some few moments remained thus silent. There was something so very tender in her manner, that Florence was even more sensible of it than on the first occasion of their meeting.
She led Florence to a chair beside her, and sat down: Florence looking in her face, quite wondering at its beauty, and willingly leaving her hand In hers.
'Have you been alone, Florence, since I was here last?'
'Oh yes!' smiled Florence, hastily.
She hesitated and cast down her eyes; for her new Mama was very earnest in her look, and the look was intently and thoughtfully fixed upon her face.
'I - I- am used to be alone,' said Florence. 'I don't mind it at all. Di and I pass whole days together, sometimes.' Florence might have said, whole weeks and months.
'Is Di your maid, love?'
'My dog, Mama,' said Florence, laughing. 'Susan is my maid.'
'And these are your rooms,' said Edith, looking round. 'I was not shown these rooms the other day. We must have them improved, Florence. They shall be made the prettiest in the house.'
'If I might change them, Mama,' returned Florence; 'there is one upstairs I should like much better.'
'Is this not high enough, dear girl?' asked Edith, smiling.
'The other was my brother's room,' said Florence, 'and I am very fond of it. I would have spoken to Papa about it when I came home, and found the workmen here, and everything changing; but - '
Florence dropped her eyes, lest the same look should make her falter again.
'but I was afraid it might distress him; and as you said you would be here again soon, Mama, and are the mistress of everything, I determined to take courage and ask you.'
Edith sat looking at her, with her brilliant eyes intent upon her face, until Florence raising her own, she, in her turn, withdrew her gaze, and turned it on the ground. It was then that Florence thought how different this lady's beauty was, from what she had supposed. She had thought it of a proud and lofty kind; yet her manner was so subdued and gentle, that if she had been of Florence's own age and character, it scarcely could have invited confidence more.
Except when a constrained and singular reserve crept over her; and then she seemed (but Florence hardly understood this, though she could not choose but notice it, and think about it) as if she were humbled before Florence, and ill at ease. When she had said that she was not her Mama yet, and when Florence had called her the mistress of everything there, this change in her was quick and startling; and now, while the eyes of Florence rested on her face, she sat as though she would have shrunk and hidden from her, rather than as one about to love and cherish her, in right of such a near connexion.
She gave Florence her ready promise, about her new room, and said she would give directions about it herself. She then asked some questions concerning poor Paul; and when they had sat in conversation for some time, told Florence she had come to take her to her own home.
'We have come to London now, my mother and I,' said Edith, 'and you shall stay with us until I am married. I wish that we should know and trust each other, Florence.'
'You are very kind to me,' said Florence, 'dear Mama. How much I thank you!'
'Let me say now, for it may be the best opportunity,' continued Edith, looking round to see that they were quite alone, and speaking in a lower voice, 'that when I am married, and have gone away for some weeks, I shall be easier at heart if you will come home here. No matter who invites you to stay elsewhere. Come home here. It is better to be alone than - what I would say is,' she added, checking herself, 'that I know well you are best at home, dear Florence.'
'I will come home on the very day, Mama'
'Do so. I rely on that promise. Now, prepare to come with me, dear girl. You will find me downstairs when you are ready.'
Slowly and thoughtfully did Edith wander alone through the mansion of which she was so soon to be the lady: and little heed took she of all the elegance and splendour it began to display. The same indomitable haughtiness of soul, the same proud scorn expressed in eye and lip, the same fierce beauty, only tamed by a sense of its own little worth, and of the little worth of everything around it, went through the grand saloons and halls, that had got loose among the shady trees, and raged and rent themselves. The mimic roses on the walls and floors were set round with sharp thorns, that tore her breast; in every scrap of gold so dazzling to the eye, she saw some hateful atom of her purchase-money; the broad high mirrors showed her, at full length, a woman with a noble quality yet dwelling in her nature, who was too false to her better self, and too debased and lost, to save herself. She believed that all this was so plain, more or less, to all eyes, that she had no resource or power of self-assertion but in pride: and with this pride, which tortured her own heart night and day, she fought her fate out, braved it, and defied it.
Was this the woman whom Florence - an innocent girl, strong only in her earnestness and simple truth - could so impress and quell, that by her side she was another creature, with her tempest of passion hushed, and her very pride itself subdued? Was this the woman who now sat beside her in a carriage, with her arms entwined, and who, while she courted and entreated her to love and trust her, drew her fair head to nestle on her breast, and would have laid down life to shield it from wrong or harm?
Oh, Edith! it were well to die, indeed, at such a time! Better and happier far, perhaps, to die so, Edith, than to live on to the end!
The Honourable Mrs Skewton, who was thinking of anything rather than of such sentiments - for, like many genteel persons who have existed at various times, she set her face against death altogether, and objected to the mention of any such low and levelling upstart - had borrowed a house in Brook Street, Grosvenor Square, from a stately relative (one of the Feenix brood), who was out of town, and who did not object to lending it, in the handsomest manner, for nuptial purposes, as the loan implied his final release and acquittance from all further loans and gifts to Mrs Skewton and her daughter. It being necessary for the credit of the family to make a handsome appearance at such a time, Mrs Skewton, with the assistance of an accommodating tradesman resident In the parish of Mary-le-bone, who lent out all sorts of articles to the nobility and gentry, from a service of plate to an army of footmen, clapped into this house a silver-headed butler (who was charged extra on that account, as having the appearnce of an ancient family retainer), two very tall young men in livery, and a select staff of kitchen-servants; so that a legend arose, downstairs, that Withers the page, released at once from his numerous household duties, and from the propulsion of the wheeled-chair (inconsistent with the metropolis), had been several times observed to rub his eyes and pinch his limbs, as if he misdoubted his having overslept himself at the Leamington milkman's, and being still in a celestial dream. A variety of requisites in plate and china being also conveyed to the same establishment from the same convenient source, with several miscellaneous articles, including a neat chariot and a pair of bays, Mrs Skewton cushioned herself on the principal sofa, in the Cleopatra attitude, and held her court in fair state.
'And how,' said Mrs Skewton, on the entrance of her daughter and her charge, 'is my charming Florence? You must come and kiss me, Florence, if you please, my love.'
Florence was timidly stooping to pick out a place In the white part of Mrs Skewton's face, when that lady presented her ear, and relieved her of her difficulty.
'Edith, my dear,' said Mrs Skewton, 'positively, I - stand a little more in the light, my sweetest Florence, for a moment.
Florence blushingly complied.
'You don't remember, dearest Edith,' said her mother, 'what you were when you were about the same age as our exceedingly precious Florence, or a few years younger?'
'I have long forgotten, mother.'
'For positively, my dear,' said Mrs Skewton, 'I do think that I see a decided resemblance to what you were then, in our extremely fascinating young friend. And it shows,' said Mrs Skewton, in a lower voice, which conveyed her opinion that Florence was in a very unfinished state, 'what cultivation will do.'
'It does, indeed,' was Edith's stern reply.
Her mother eyed her sharply for a moment, and feeling herself on unsafe ground, said, as a diversion:
'My charming Florence, you must come and kiss me once more, if you please, my love.'
Florence complied, of course, and again imprinted her lips on Mrs Skewton's ear.
'And you have heard, no doubt, my darling pet,' said Mrs Skewton, detaining her hand, 'that your Papa, whom we all perfectly adore and dote upon, is to be married to my dearest Edith this day week.'
'I knew it would be very soon,' returned Florence, 'but not exactly when.'
'My darling Edith,' urged her mother, gaily, 'is it possible you have not told Florence?'
'Why should I tell Florence?' she returned, so suddenly and harshly, that Florence could scarcely believe it was the same voice.
Mrs Skewton then told Florence, as another and safer diversion, that her father was coming to dinner, and that he would no doubt be charmingly surprised to see her; as he had spoken last night of dressing in the City, and had known nothing of Edith's design, the execution of which, according to Mrs Skewton's expectation, would throw him into a perfect ecstasy. Florence was troubled to hear this; and her distress became so keen, as the dinner-hour approached, that if she had known how to frame an entreaty to be suffered to return home, without involving her father in her explanation, she would have hurried back on foot, bareheaded, breathless, and alone, rather than incur the risk of meeting his displeasure.
As the time drew nearer, she could hardly breathe. She dared not approach a window, lest he should see her from the street. She dared not go upstairs to hide her emotion, lest, in passing out at the door, she should meet him unexpectedly; besides which dread, she felt as though she never could come back again if she were summoned to his presence. In this conflict of fears; she was sitting by Cleopatra's couch, endeavouring to understand and to reply to the bald discourse of that lady, when she heard his foot upon the stair.
'I hear him now!' cried Florence, starting. 'He is coming!'
Cleopatra, who in her juvenility was always playfully disposed, and who in her self-engrossment did not trouble herself about the nature of this agitation, pushed Florence behind her couch, and dropped a shawl over her, preparatory to giving Mr Dombey a rapture of surprise. It was so quickly done, that in a moment Florence heard his awful step in the room.
He saluted his intended mother-in-law, and his intended bride. The strange sound of his voice thrilled through the whole frame of his child.
'My dear Dombey,' said Cleopatra, 'come here and tell me how your pretty Florence is.'
'Florence is very well,' said Mr Dombey, advancing towards the couch.
'At home?'
'At home,' said Mr Dombey.
'My dear Dombey,' returned Cleopatra, with bewitching vivacity; 'now are you sure you are not deceiving me? I don't know what my dearest Edith will say to me when I make such a declaration, but upon my honour I am afraid you are the falsest of men, my dear Dombey.'
Though he had been; and had been detected on the spot, in the most enormous falsehood that was ever said or done; he could hardly have been more disconcerted than he was, when Mrs Skewton plucked the shawl away, and Florence, pale and trembling, rose before him like a ghost. He had not yet recovered his presence of mind, when Florence had run up to him, clasped her hands round his neck, kissed his face, and hurried out of the room. He looked round as if to refer the matter to somebody else, but Edith had gone after Florence, instantly.
'Now, confess, my dear Dombey,' said Mrs Skewton, giving him her hand, 'that you never were more surprised and pleased in your life.'
'I never was more surprised,' said Mr Dombey.
'Nor pleased, my dearest Dombey?' returned Mrs Skewton, holding up her fan.
'I - yes, I am exceedingly glad to meet Florence here,' said Mr Dombey. He appeared to consider gravely about it for a moment, and then said, more decidedly, 'Yes, I really am very glad indeed to meet Florence here.'
'You wonder how she comes here?' said Mrs Skewton, 'don't you?'
'Edith, perhaps - ' suggested Mr Dombey.
'Ah! wicked guesser!' replied Cleopatra, shaking her head. 'Ah! cunning, cunning man! One shouldn't tell these things; your sex, my dear Dombey, are so vain, and so apt to abuse our weakness; but you know my open soul - very well; immediately.'
This was addressed to one of the very tall young men who announced dinner.
'But Edith, my dear Dombey,' she continued in a whisper, when she cannot have you near her - and as I tell her, she cannot expect that always - will at least have near her something or somebody belonging to you. Well, how extremely natural that is! And in this spirit, nothing would keep her from riding off to-day to fetch our darling Florence. Well, how excessively charming that is!'
As she waited for an answer, Mr Dombey answered, 'Eminently so.
'Bless you, my dear Dombey, for that proof of heart!' cried Cleopatra, squeezing his hand. 'But I am growing too serious! Take me downstairs, like an angel, and let us see what these people intend to give us for dinner. Bless you, dear Dombey!'
Cleopatra skipping off her couch with tolerable briskness, after the last benediction, Mr Dombey took her arm in his and led her ceremoniously downstairs; one of the very tall young men on hire, whose organ of veneration was imperfectly developed, thrusting his tongue into his cheek, for the entertainment of the other very tall young man on hire, as the couple turned into the dining-room.
Florence and Edith were already there, and sitting side by side. Florence would have risen when her father entered, to resign her chair to him; but Edith openly put her hand upon her arm, and Mr Dombey took an opposite place at the round table.
The conversation was almost entirely sustained by Mrs Skewton. Florence hardly dared to raise her eyes, lest they should reveal the traces of tears; far less dared to speak; and Edith never uttered one word, unless in answer to a question. Verily, Cleopatra worked hard, for the establishment that was so nearly clutched; and verily it should have been a rich one to reward her!
And so your preparations are nearly finished at last, my dear Dombey?' said Cleopatra, when the dessert was put upon the table, and the silver-headed butler had withdrawn. 'Even the lawyers' preparations!'
'Yes, madam,' replied Mr Dombey; 'the deed of settlement, the professional gentlemen inform me, is now ready, and as I was mentioning to you, Edith has only to do us the favour to suggest her own time for its execution.'
Edith sat like a handsome statue; as cold, as silent, and as still.
'My dearest love,' said Cleopatra, 'do you hear what Mr Dombey says? Ah, my dear Dombey!' aside to that gentleman, 'how her absence, as the time approaches, reminds me of the days, when that most agreeable of creatures, her Papa, was in your situation!'
'I have nothing to suggest. It shall be when you please,' said Edith, scarcely looking over the table at Mr Dombey.
'To-morrow?' suggested Mr Dombey.
'If you please.'
'Or would next day,' said Mr Dombey, 'suit your engagements better?'
'I have no engagements. I am always at your disposal. Let it be when you like.'
'No engagements, my dear Edith!' remonstrated her mother, 'when you are in a most terrible state of flurry all day long, and have a thousand and one appointments with all sorts of trades-people!'
'They are of your making,' returned Edith, turning on her with a slight contraction of her brow. 'You and Mr Dombey can arrange between you.'
'Very true indeed, my love, and most considerate of you!' said Cleopatra. 'My darling Florence, you must really come and kiss me once more, if you please, my dear!'
Singular coincidence, that these gushes of interest In Florence hurried Cleopatra away from almost every dialogue in which Edith had a share, however trifling! Florence had certainly never undergone so much embracing, and perhaps had never been, unconsciously, so useful in her life.
Mr Dombey was far from quarrelling, in his own breast, with the manner of his beautiful betrothed. He had that good reason for sympathy with haughtiness and coldness, which is found In a fellow-feeling. It flattered him to think how these deferred to him, in Edith's case, and seemed to have no will apart from his. It flattered him to picture to himself, this proud and stately woman doing the honours of his house, and chilling his guests after his own manner. The dignity of Dombey and Son would be heightened and maintained, indeed, in such hands.
So thought Mr Dombey, when he was left alone at the dining-table, and mused upon his past and future fortunes: finding no uncongeniality in an air of scant and gloomy state that pervaded the room, in colour a dark brown, with black hatchments of pictures blotching the walls, and twenty-four black chairs, with almost as many nails in them as so many coffins, waiting like mutes, upon the threshold of the Turkey carpet; and two exhausted negroes holding up two withered branches of candelabra on the sideboard, and a musty smell prevailing as if the ashes of ten thousand dinners were entombed in the sarcophagus below it. The owner of the house lived much abroad; the air of England seldom agreed long with a member of the Feenix family; and the room had gradually put itself into deeper and still deeper mourning for him, until it was become so funereal as to want nothing but a body in it to be quite complete.
No bad representation of the body, for the nonce, in his unbending form, if not in his attitude, Mr Dombey looked down into the cold depths of the dead sea of mahogany on which the fruit dishes and decanters lay at anchor: as if the subjects of his thoughts were rising towards the surface one by one, and plunging down again. Edith was there In all her majesty of brow and figure; and close to her came Florence, with her timid head turned to him, as it had been, for an instant, when she left the room; and Edith's eyes upon her, and Edith's hand put out protectingly. A little figure in a low arm-chair came springing next into the light, and looked upon him wonderingly, with its bright eyes and its old-young face, gleaming as in the flickering of an evening fire. Again came Florence close upon it, and absorbed his whole attention. Whether as a fore-doomed difficulty and disappointment to him; whether as a rival who had crossed him in his way, and might again; whether as his child, of whom, in his successful wooing, he could stoop to think as claiming, at such a time, to be no more estranged; or whether as a hint to him that the mere appearance of caring for his own blood should be maintained in his new relations; he best knew. Indifferently well, perhaps, at best; for marriage company and marriage altars, and ambitious scenes - still blotted here and there with Florence - always Florence - turned up so fast, and so confusedly, that he rose, and went upstairs to escape them.
It was quite late at night before candles were brought; for at present they made Mrs Skewton's head ache, she complained; and in the meantime Florence and Mrs Skewton talked together (Cleopatra being very anxious to keep her close to herself), or Florence touched the piano softly for Mrs Skewton's delight; to make no mention of a few occasions in the course of the evening, when that affectionate lady was impelled to solicit another kiss, and which always happened after Edith had said anything. They were not many, however, for Edith sat apart by an open window during the whole time (in spite of her mother's fears that she would take cold), and remained there until Mr Dombey took leave. He was serenely gracious to Florence when he did so; and Florence went to bed in a room within Edith's, so happy and hopeful, that she thought of her late self as if it were some other poor deserted girl who was to be pitied for her sorrow; and in her pity, sobbed herself to sleep.
The week fled fast. There were drives to milliners, dressmakers, jewellers, lawyers, florists, pastry-cooks; and Florence was always of the party. Florence was to go to the wedding. Florence was to cast off her mourning, and to wear a brilliant dress on the occasion. The milliner's intentions on the subject of this dress - the milliner was a Frenchwoman, and greatly resembled Mrs Skewton - were so chaste and elegant, that Mrs Skewton bespoke one like it for herself. The milliner said it would become her to admiration, and that all the world would take her for the young lady's sister.
The week fled faster. Edith looked at nothing and cared for nothing. Her rich dresses came home, and were tried on, and were loudly commended by Mrs Skewton and the milliners, and were put away without a word from her. Mrs Skewton made their plans for every day, and executed them. Sometimes Edith sat in the carriage when they went to make purchases; sometimes, when it was absolutely necessary, she went into the shops. But Mrs Skewton conducted the whole business, whatever it happened to be; and Edith looked on as uninterested and with as much apparent indifference as if she had no concern in it. Florence might perhaps have thought she was haughty and listless, but that she was never so to her. So Florence quenched her wonder in her gratitude whenever it broke out, and soon subdued it.
The week fled faster. It had nearly winged its flight away. The last night of the week, the night before the marriage, was come. In the dark room - for Mrs Skewton's head was no better yet, though she expected to recover permanently to-morrow - were that lady, Edith, and Mr Dombey. Edith was at her open window looking out into the street; Mr Dombey and Cleopatra were talking softly on the sofa. It was growing late; and Florence, being fatigued, had gone to bed.
'My dear Dombey,' said Cleopatra, 'you will leave me Florence to-morrow, when you deprive me of my sweetest Edith.'
Mr Dombey said he would, with pleasure.
'To have her about me, here, while you are both at Paris, and to think at her age, I am assisting in the formation of her mind, my dear Dombey,' said Cleopatra, 'will be a perfect balm to me in the extremely shattered state to which I shall be reduced.'
Edith turned her head suddenly. Her listless manner was exchanged, in a moment, to one of burning interest, and, unseen in the darkness, she attended closely to their conversation.
Mr Dombey would be delighted to leave Florence in such admirable guardianship.
'My dear Dombey,' returned Cleopatra, 'a thousand thanks for your good opinion. I feared you were going, with malice aforethought' as the dreadful lawyers say - those horrid proses! - to condemn me to utter solitude;'
'Why do me so great an injustice, my dear madam?' said Mr Dombey.
'Because my charming Florence tells me so positively she must go home tomorrow, returned Cleopatra, that I began to be afraid, my dearest Dombey, you were quite a Bashaw.'
'I assure you, madam!' said Mr Dombey, 'I have laid no commands on Florence; and if I had, there are no commands like your wish.'
'My dear Dombey,' replied Cleopatra, what a courtier you are! Though I'll not say so, either; for courtiers have no heart, and yours pervades your farming life and character. And are you really going so early, my dear Dombey!'
Oh, indeed! it was late, and Mr Dombey feared he must.
'Is this a fact, or is it all a dream!' lisped Cleopatra. 'Can I believe, my dearest Dombey, that you are coming back tomorrow morning to deprive me of my sweet companion; my own Edith!'
Mr Dombey, who was accustomed to take things literally, reminded Mrs Skewton that they were to meet first at the church.
'The pang,' said Mrs Skewton, 'of consigning a child, even to you, my dear Dombey, is one of the most excruciating imaginable, and combined with a naturally delicate constitution, and the extreme stupidity of the pastry-cook who has undertaken the breakfast, is almost too much for my poor strength. But I shall rally, my dear Dombey, In the morning; do not fear for me, or be uneasy on my account. Heaven bless you! My dearest Edith!' she cried archly. 'Somebody is going, pet.'
Edith, who had turned her head again towards the window, and whose interest in their conversation had ceased, rose up in her place, but made no advance towards him, and said nothing. Mr Dombey, with a lofty gallantry adapted to his dignity and the occasion, betook his creaking boots towards her, put her hand to his lips, said, 'Tomorrow morning I shall have the happiness of claiming this hand as Mrs Dombey's,' and bowed himself solemnly out.
Mrs Skewton rang for candles as soon as the house-door had closed upon him. With the candles appeared her maid, with the juvenile dress that was to delude the world to-morrow. The dress had savage retribution in it, as such dresses ever have, and made her infinitely older and more hideous than her greasy flannel gown. But Mrs Skewton tried it on with mincing satisfaction; smirked at her cadaverous self in the glass, as she thought of its killing effect upon the Major; and suffering her maid to take it off again, and to prepare her for repose, tumbled into ruins like a house of painted cards.
All this time, Edith remained at the dark window looking out into the street. When she and her mother were at last left alone, she moved from it for the first time that evening, and came opposite to her. The yawning, shaking, peevish figure of the mother, with her eyes raised to confront the proud erect form of the daughter, whose glance of fire was bent downward upon her, had a conscious air upon it, that no levity or temper could conceal.
'I am tired to death,' said she. 'You can't be trusted for a moment. You are worse than a child. Child! No child would be half so obstinate and undutiful.'
'Listen to me, mother,' returned Edith, passing these words by with a scorn that would not descend to trifle with them. 'You must remain alone here until I return.'
'Must remain alone here, Edith, until you return!' repeated her mother.
'Or in that name upon which I shall call to-morrow to witness what I do, so falsely: and so shamefully, I swear I will refuse the hand of this man in the church. If I do not, may I fall dead upon the pavement!'
The mother answered with a look of quick alarm, in no degree diminished by the look she met.
'It is enough,' said Edith, steadily, 'that we are what we are. I will have no youth and truth dragged down to my level. I will have no guileless nature undermined, corrupted, and perverted, to amuse the leisure of a world of mothers. You know my meaning. Florence must go home.'
'You are an idiot, Edith,' cried her angry mother. 'Do you expect there can ever be peace for you in that house, till she is married, and away?'
'Ask me, or ask yourself, if I ever expect peace in that house,' said her daughter, 'and you know the answer.
'And am I to be told to-night, after all my pains and labour, and when you are going, through me, to be rendered independent,' her mother almost shrieked in her passion, while her palsied head shook like a leaf, 'that there is corruption and contagion in me, and that I am not fit company for a girl! What are you, pray? What are you?'
'I have put the question to myself,' said Edith, ashy pale, and pointing to the window, 'more than once when I have been sitting there, and something in the faded likeness of my sex has wandered past outside; and God knows I have met with my reply. Oh mother, mother, if you had but left me to my natural heart when I too was a girl - a younger girl than Florence - how different I might have been!'
Sensible that any show of anger was useless here, her mother restrained herself, and fell a whimpering, and bewailed that she had lived too long, and that her only child had cast her off, and that duty towards parents was forgotten in these evil days, and that she had heard unnatural taunts, and cared for life no longer.
'If one is to go on living through continual scenes like this,' she whined,'I am sure it would be much better for me to think of some means of putting an end to my existence. Oh! The idea of your being my daughter, Edith, and addressing me in such a strain!'
'Between us, mother,' returned Edith, mournfully, 'the time for mutual reproaches is past.
'Then why do you revive it?' whimpered her mother. 'You know that you are lacerating me in the cruellest manner. You know how sensitive I am to unkindness. At such a moment, too, when I have so much to think of, and am naturally anxious to appear to the best advantage! I wonder at you, Edith. To make your mother a fright upon your wedding-day!'
Edith bent the same fixed look upon her, as she sobbed and rubbed her eyes; and said in the same low steady voice, which had neither risen nor fallen since she first addressed her, 'I have said that Florence must go home.'
'Let her go!' cried the afflicted and affrighted parent, hastily. 'I am sure I am willing she should go. What is the girl to me?'
'She is so much to me, that rather than communicate, or suffer to be communicated to her, one grain of the evil that is in my breast, mother, I would renounce you, as I would (if you gave me cause) renounce him in the church to-morrow,' replied Edith. 'Leave her alone. She shall not, while I can interpose, be tampered with and tainted by the lessons I have learned. This is no hard condition on this bitter night.'
'If you had proposed it in a filial manner, Edith,' whined her mother, 'perhaps not; very likely not. But such extremely cutting words - '
'They are past and at an end between us now,' said Edith. 'Take your own way, mother; share as you please in what you have gained; spend, enjoy, make much of it; and be as happy as you will. The object of our lives is won. Henceforth let us wear it silently. My lips are closed upon the past from this hour. I forgive you your part in to-morrow's wickedness. May God forgive my own!'
Without a tremor in her voice, or frame, and passing onward with a foot that set itself upon the neck of every soft emotion, she bade her mother good-night, and repaired to her own room.
But not to rest; for there was no rest in the tumult of her agitation when alone to and fro, and to and fro, and to and fro again, five hundred times, among the splendid preparations for her adornment on the morrow; with her dark hair shaken down, her dark eyes flashing with a raging light, her broad white bosom red with the cruel grasp of the relentless hand with which she spurned it from her, pacing up and down with an averted head, as if she would avoid the sight of her own fair person, and divorce herself from its companionship. Thus, In the dead time of the night before her bridal, Edith Granger wrestled with her unquiet spirit, tearless, friendless, silent, proud, and uncomplaining.
At length it happened that she touched the open door which led into the room where Florence lay.
She started, stopped, and looked in.
A light was burning there, and showed her Florence in her bloom of innocence and beauty, fast asleep. Edith held her breath, and felt herself drawn on towards her.
Drawn nearer, nearer, nearer yet; at last, drawn so near, that stooping down, she pressed her lips to the gentle hand that lay outside the bed, and put it softly to her neck. Its touch was like the prophet's rod of old upon the rock. Her tears sprung forth beneath it, as she sunk upon her knees, and laid her aching head and streaming hair upon the pillow by its side.
Thus Edith Granger passed the night before her bridal. Thus the sun found her on her bridal morning.
被施加了魔力的房屋已经不再存在，工作的人们已经进入屋内，整天用锤子叮叮当当敲打着，搬移物品时发出了碰撞的响声，并踩着沉重的脚步，在楼梯上上上下下地走着；他们使戴奥吉尼斯从日出到日落，不断发出一阵阵吠叫——显然，他相信敌人终于打败了他，现在正在胜利的挑战中掠夺着房屋。虽然这样一些新的情况出现了，可是弗洛伦斯的生活方式最初并没有发生其他重大的变化。夜间，当工人们离开以后，房屋又显得凄凉和冷落；他们离开的时候，弗洛伦斯听着他们通过门厅和楼梯发出的回声，心中想象着他们即将回去的快乐的家庭和正在等待着他们的孩子们；她高兴地想到他们是愉快的，是欢欢喜喜地离开这里的。
她欢迎晚间的寂静像一个老朋友一样重新返回；但是它现在来到的时候换了一个新的脸孔，比过去更亲切地看着她。这里面包含着新鲜的希望。在那个曾经使她伤心的房间中安慰和爱抚过她的那位美丽的夫人，对她来说，是一位带来希望的仙人。当她将逐渐取得父亲的爱的时候，当在那个悲惨的日子（就在这一天，母亲对她的爱，随着她贴在她脸颊上的最后的呼吸一起消失了）她所失去的一切或其中的大部分将重新得到的时候，光明的生活的黎明就将来临了；现在它的温柔的影子正在曙光中在她的四周移动，成了她所欢迎的伴侣。当她在窥视着邻居脸色红润的孩子们的时候，她想到她跟他们不久就可以在一起谈话，相互认识了；那时候她就将不再像过去那样害怕在他们眼前露面，唯恐她们看到她穿着黑色的丧服孤独地坐在那里会感到悲伤了；她想着这些事情的时候，是有一种新鲜和宝贵的感觉的。
当弗洛伦斯想着她的新的母亲时，当她纯洁的心向她溢流出爱和信任时，她愈来愈深切地爱着她死去的亲母亲。她不害怕在心中树立一个竞争者。她知道，在种植得很深、抚育得很久的老根上会长出新的花朵。那位美丽的夫人嘴中说出的每一句温柔的话，都像久已沉寂的声音的回声一样响着。她对亲母亲的回忆过去曾经是她对父母双亲的亲切关怀与慈爱的唯一的回忆；现在，当新的亲切关怀来临的时候，她怎么就能减少对那老回忆的喜爱呢？
有一天，弗洛伦斯坐在她的房间里看书并想着这位夫人和她答应不久就将来看望她的诺言（因为书里写的是与这类似的故事），当她抬起眼睛的时候，她看到她正站在门口。
“妈妈！”弗洛伦斯快活地迎上前去，喊道，“你又来啦！”
“现在还不是妈妈，”那位夫人用胳膊搂住弗洛伦斯的脖子的时候，庄重地微笑着回答道。
“但是很快就要是了，”弗洛伦斯喊道。
“现在很快了，弗洛伦斯，很快了。”
伊迪丝把头稍微低下一些，以便把她的脸颊紧贴着弗洛伦斯鲜嫩美丽的脸颊上；她们这样沉默地保持了几秒钟。她的态度中包含着极为亲切的感情，弗洛伦斯甚至比她们第一次见面时更深切地感觉到它。
她把弗洛伦斯领到身旁的一张椅子那里，坐下来；弗洛伦斯看着她的脸孔，对它的美丽感到十分惊奇，并乐意地把手放在她的手里。
“自从我上次到这里来以后，你一直是一个人吗，弗洛伦斯？”
“是的！”弗洛伦斯微笑着急忙回答道。
她迟疑着，低垂下眼睛，因为她的新妈妈的眼光十分恳切，那眼光在聚精会神地、若有所思地注视着她的脸孔。
“我——我——一个人已经习惯了，”弗洛伦斯说道，“我根本不在乎。有时就是戴和我两个在一起度过整整几天。”弗洛伦斯本来可以说整整几个星期和整整几个月的。
“戴是你的侍女吗，亲爱的？”
“是我的狗，妈妈，”弗洛伦斯大笑着说道，“我的侍女是苏珊。”
“这些就是你的房间吧？”伊迪丝向四周看看，说道，“那天没领我来看这些房间。我们一定把它们修缮得更好，弗洛伦斯。它们应当成为这座房屋中最漂亮的房间。”
“如果我可以掉换它们的话，妈妈，”弗洛伦斯回答道，“那么我更喜欢楼上的一间。”
“难道这里还不够高吗，亲爱的孩子？”伊迪丝微笑着问道。
“那里是我的弟弟的房间，”弗洛伦斯说道，“我很喜欢它。我回家的时候，发现工人们在这里，什么都在改变着，我本想把我的这个意见跟爸爸说的，可是——”
弗洛伦斯低下眼睛，只怕那同样的眼光又会使她结巴起来。
“——可是我担心那会使他痛苦，而且，妈妈，你又说过你很快就要回来的，并且将是这里支配一切的女主人，所以我就决定鼓起勇气向你请求。”
伊迪丝坐在那里看着她，发亮的眼睛一直在注视着她的脸孔，直到弗洛伦斯抬起眼睛的时候，这才轮到她把眼光收回去，改看着地面。就在这时候，弗洛伦斯想到这位夫人的美丽和她初次见面时所想的是多么不同。她曾经以为她是高傲的、难以接近的，可是她现在的态度是这么和蔼、温柔，即使她的年龄和性格与弗洛伦斯一模一样，她也未必能比现在取得更大的信任。
但当一种勉强和奇怪地克制自己的沉着的神色悄悄笼罩着她的时候，情况就不同了。这时候，仿佛在弗洛伦斯面前，她看上去感到自己卑贱和很不自在似的（不过弗洛伦斯对这很不理解，虽然不能不注意到它和想到它）。当她刚才说她现在还不是妈妈的时候，当弗洛伦斯称她是这里支配一切的女主人的时候，她身上的这种变化是迅速的和令人惊异的；现在，当弗洛伦斯的眼睛凝视着她的脸孔的时候，她坐在那里，好像恨不得把身子收缩起来，隐藏起来，不让弗洛伦斯看见似的，而不像是个根据这种近亲的权利，将要喜爱她和抚育她的人。
她答应弗洛伦斯给她掉换新房间，并说她将亲自下命令。然后她问了几个关于可怜的保罗的问题；当她们坐着交谈了一些时候之后，她告诉弗洛伦斯，她是来领她到自己家里去的。
“我们现在已经搬到伦敦来了，我母亲和我，”伊迪丝说道，“你将和我们住在一起，直到我结婚。我希望我们将相互了解和信任，弗洛伦斯。”
“你对我太好了，”弗洛伦斯说，“亲爱的妈妈，我多么感谢你！”
“让我就趁现在说吧，因为这是最好的机会，”伊迪丝向四下里看看，想知道她们是不是就是两个人，并用较低的声音继续说道，“当我结婚之后外出几个星期的时候，如果你能回到这边的家里来的话，那么我就会觉得放心些。不论是谁邀请你住到别的地方去，你还是回到这边的家里来。你一个人在这里比——”她抑制住自己，没有把话说完，然后又接下去说，“我想说的是，我知道你在家里最好，亲爱的弗洛伦斯。”
“我当天就回到家里来，妈妈。”
“好，就这么办吧。我相信你的话。现在，亲爱的孩子，你就去收拾收拾，准备跟我走吧。你一切都弄妥了就到楼下来找我。”
伊迪丝一个人慢吞吞地和若有所思地走过这个不久她将成为女主人的公馆，很少去注意它即将显示出的富丽堂皇的气派。就像她过去在绿荫的树林下曾经猛烈地放纵、发泄过她的愤怒一样，她现在怀着同样难以驯服的傲慢的心灵，从眼睛和嘴唇中表露出同样高傲的、目空一切的神气，在姿容中闪耀着同样光彩夺目的美丽（只是由于她觉得它毫无价值，四周的一切也都毫无价值，因此这光彩不那么强烈罢了），走过这些豪华的客厅和大厅。绘画在墙壁和地板上的玫瑰花，四周围绕着尖利的刺，把她的胸膛都刺裂了；在每一片耀眼的金片中，她看到了她的可恨的买身钱的微粒；又宽又高的镜子向她照出了一个女人的全身；她还没有完全失去高贵的品质，但跟她更美好的自身比较，显得太虚伪了，太卑贱了，太毁坏无遗了，已经到了不可救药的地步。她相信，在所有人看来，在不同程度上，这一切都是清清楚楚的，因此，她找不到别的办法或力量，只有凭借着高傲才能使她逞强自负，并凭借着这个日夜折磨着她的心灵的高傲，她跟自己的命运斗争到底，抵抗它，反抗它。难道这就是弗洛伦斯——一个天真烂漫的女孩子，只是由于真诚与纯洁而有力量——能深深感动她和征服她的那个女人吗？难道这就是在弗洛伦斯身边成了完全不同的一个人，暴怒顿时熄灭，甚至连高傲也顿时消退的那个女人吗？难道这就是现在在马车中坐在弗洛伦斯身边，合抱着双臂，当弗洛伦斯恳求她爱她和信任她的时候，她就把美丽的头贴近她的胸脯，并准备牺牲生命来保卫它免遭污辱和欺凌的那个女人吗？
啊，伊迪丝！就在这样的时候死去是多么好啊！也许，伊迪丝，现在就这么死去要比继续活下去要好得多，要幸福得多啊！
尊敬的斯丘顿夫人完全没有这样一类想法，因为，像许多在不同时代生活过的出身高贵的人们一样，她总是扭转脸孔，躲开死亡，而且反对别人提起这个十分卑劣的、不分贵贱地把所有人都拉平的、趾高气扬的怪物。她在格罗斯文诺广场布鲁克街从一位高贵的亲戚（菲尼克斯家族中的一位）那里借了一栋房屋。这位亲戚离开伦敦了；他极为慷慨地把房屋借给他们用来结婚，并把这作为一笔礼物，他就免得再向斯丘顿夫人和她的女儿贷款和送礼了。为了维护家庭的荣誉，在这种时候有必要使各方面都显得光彩体面，所以斯丘顿夫人找到了一位住在玛丽勒博恩教区的商人帮忙；这位商人是个容易打交道的人，他向贵族和绅士出借各种家庭用品，从成套餐具到一群仆人，无不应有尽有。他给这栋房屋提供了一位白发苍苍的男管家（他由于具有古代家庭侍从的相貌，还多拿一笔钱）、两位穿着制服、身材很高的年轻人，还有一些精选的厨房仆人。这一来，地下室就散播着一个传说，说童仆威瑟斯突然一下摆脱了原先的无数的家庭杂务，也摆脱了推轮椅的累活（在都城中推轮椅是不合适的），大家好几次看到他揉着眼睛，捏着手脚，仿佛他怀疑是不是在莱明顿牛奶店里睡过了头，现在还在做着天堂里的美梦呢。餐具、瓷器以及其他各种各样的家庭用具全都由同一个方向的来源供应到这个邸宅中来，其中还包括一辆整洁精致的四轮轻便马车和两匹栗色马。斯丘顿夫人按照克利奥特拉佩的姿势，坐在一张主沙发的坐垫中间，庄严得体地摆出女王的架子，接受觐见。
“我可爱的弗洛伦斯好吗？”斯丘顿夫人在女儿和她的被保护者进来时，说道，“你一定得过来亲亲我，弗洛伦斯，如果你愿意的话，我亲爱的。”
弗洛伦斯胆怯地弯下身去，正在斯丘顿夫人脸上白的部分找一块地方，这时那位夫人凑上耳朵，使她摆脱了困境。
“伊迪丝，我亲爱的，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“确实，我——
请你站到靠亮光一点的地方，亲爱的弗洛伦斯。”
弗洛伦斯脸羞得通红地依从了。
“你可记得，我最亲爱的伊迪丝，”她的母亲说道，“当你跟我们可爱的宝贝弗洛伦斯差不多年纪或小几岁的时候，你是怎么样的吗？”
“我早忘了，妈妈。”
“说真的，我亲爱的，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“我发现我们这位极为标致的年轻朋友跟你那时候真是像透了，同时也表明，”斯丘顿夫人压低了声音，说道，“教养是多么重要。”这说明，在她看来，弗洛伦斯还远没有教养完善。
“是的，不错，”伊迪丝冷淡地回答道。
她的母亲敏锐地看了她一眼，感到她本人已陷入危险的境地；为了转移注意力，就说道：
“我可爱的弗洛伦斯，你一定得过来再亲我一下，如果你愿意的话，我亲爱的。”
弗洛伦斯自然依从了，于是又把嘴唇压到她的耳朵上。
“我亲爱的宝贝，你毫无疑问已经听说了，”斯丘顿夫人拉着她的手，说道，“你的爸爸——我们全都无限崇拜和热爱他——再过一个星期就要跟我最亲爱的伊迪丝结婚了。”
“我知道很快了，”弗洛伦斯回答道，“不过不知道确切的日期。”
“我的宝贝伊迪丝，”她的母亲快活地催促道，“这可能吗，你怎么还没有告诉弗洛伦斯？”
“我为什么要告诉弗洛伦斯？”她回答得那么突然和生硬，因此弗洛伦斯简直不能相信这是她的声音。
斯丘顿夫人为了再一次转移注意力和脱离危险，就告诉弗洛伦斯，她爸爸将到这里来吃晚饭，他看到她将无疑会又惊奇又高兴；因为昨天晚上他在城里谈到了服装方面的事情，一点也不知道伊迪丝的计划，斯丘顿夫人料想这样一定会使他喜出望外。弗洛伦斯听到这些话以后，心烦意乱，临近吃晚饭的时候，她的苦恼更加剧烈；如果她知道怎样请求允许她回家去，而且在解释时不牵涉到她父亲的话，那么她真愿意光着脚，不戴帽子，独自一人，急忙跑回家去，而不愿冒这种会引起他不高兴的危险。
时间愈来愈近，她简直透不过气来。她不敢走近窗口，唯恐他从街上看见她。她不敢走上楼去掩饰她的情绪，唯恐走出门口的时候，她会意外地遇见他；除了这种害怕外，她还觉得，如果把她喊到他面前去的话，那么她就好像再也没有勇气回来似的。她苦恼不安地怀着这些恐惧的心情，坐在克利奥佩特拉的长沙发旁边，用心听着和回答着这位夫人枯燥无味的谈话，这时候她突然听到楼梯上响起了他的脚步声。
“我听到他的脚步了！”弗洛伦斯惊跳起来，喊道，“他来了！”
克利奥佩特拉由于她那老天真的脾气，时常爱开个玩笑，而且由于自以为是，没有花心思去研究一下弗洛伦斯刚才激动的性质，所以她把弗洛伦斯推到她的长沙发的后面，把一块围巾抛到她的身上，准备给董贝先生来一个惊喜交集。这一切做得非常之快，一转眼的工夫，弗洛伦斯就听到他那可怕的脚步声进入了房间。
他向未来的岳母和未来的新娘问候致意。他嗓门的奇怪声音使他的女儿听了全身颤抖。
“我亲爱的董贝，”克利奥佩特拉说道，“到这里来告诉我，你的可爱的弗洛伦斯好吗？”
“弗洛伦斯很好，”董贝先生向长沙发走去，说道。
“在家吗？”
“在家，”董贝先生说道。
“我亲爱的董贝，”克利奥佩特拉露出极为美妙动人、高兴活泼的神色，回答道，“你是不是肯定你没有骗我？我不知道当我对你进行责备之后，我最亲爱的伊迪丝会怎么说我，不过，说实话，我担心你是世界上最不诚实的男子了，我亲爱的董贝。”
即使他真的是这样，即使他当场被揭露过去确实有极为大量的虚伪言行的话，那么他也未心会比斯丘顿夫人掀开围巾之后，弗洛伦斯脸色苍白、浑身哆嗦、像幽灵似地站在他面前的时候更为仓皇失措的了。他还没有恢复镇静，弗洛伦斯就跑到他面前，双手搂着他的脖子，吻了一下他的脸孔，急急忙忙跑出了房间。他向四周看看，仿佛想和其他人商讨一下这个问题似的，可是伊迪丝立即就跟着弗洛伦斯走出去了。
“现在，请承认吧，我亲爱的董贝，”斯丘顿夫人向他伸出手去，说道，“你这一生中从没遇到过这样令人惊奇和高兴的事了吧！”
“我从没遇到过这样令人惊奇的事。”
“也从没遇到过这样高兴的事吧，我亲爱的董贝？”斯丘顿夫人举起扇子，问道：
“我——对，我非常高兴在这里遇见弗洛伦斯，”董贝先生说道；他似乎严肃地考虑了一会儿，然后更加肯定地说道，“是的，我的确很高兴在这里遇见弗洛伦斯。”
“你是不是奇怪，她怎么会到这里来的呢？”斯丘顿夫人问道，“是不是？”
“也许是，伊迪丝——”董贝先生推测着说道。
“啊！你这可恶的猜测者！”克利奥佩特拉摇摇头，回答道，“啊，你这狡猾、狡猾的人！我不应当说这些事情；你们男人，我亲爱的董贝，虚荣心是多么重，是多么喜欢作弄我们的弱点；但是你知道，我的心胸是坦率的——好，立刻就来！”
最后几个字是对两位身材很高的年轻人当中的一位说的，他进来通报，晚饭已经准备好。
“但是伊迪丝，亲爱的董贝，”她继续低声地说道，“当她看不到你在他身旁的时候——我告诉她，她不能经常指望这一点——，至少可以看到属于你的什么东西或什么人。是的，这是极为自然的事。她怀着这样的心情，谁也不能阻挡她今天坐着马车去把我们亲爱的弗洛伦斯接来。你看，这是多么可爱的事啊！”
因为她等待着回答，董贝先生就回答道，“确实是这样。”
“亲爱的董贝，这证明了你有着善良的心，愿上帝为这保佑你！”克利奥佩特拉握紧他的手，喊道，“可是我有些太认真了！请像个天使一样，领我到楼下去吧，看看这些人准备给我吃什么晚饭。愿上帝保佑你，亲爱的董贝！”
克利奥佩特拉在进行了第二次祝福之后，相当敏捷地跳下长沙发；董贝先生搀着她的胳膊，礼节十分周到地领着她下了楼；当这两个人走进餐厅的时候，雇来的身材很高的年轻人当中的一位（他向主人表示尊敬的器官是很不发达的）把舌头伸到脸颊上，在给另一位雇来的身材很高的年轻人逗乐。
弗洛伦斯和伊迪丝已经在那里，并肩坐着。弗洛伦斯在父亲进来的时候本想站起来，把她的椅子让给他；但是伊迪丝用手坚决地拉住她的胳膊，董贝先生就在圆桌对面的座位上坐下。
谈话几乎完全由斯丘顿夫人一人支撑着。弗洛伦斯简直不敢抬起眼睛，唯恐显露出泪痕，更不敢说话了；伊迪丝除了回答一个问题外，一个字也没有说。克利奥佩特拉为了很快就要抓到手中的家业，确实很努力地工作着。这也确实是一份富有的家业，可以好好酬劳她的！
“这么说，你的一切准备终于就要结束了吗，我亲爱的董贝？”当最后的点心、水果端到桌上，白发苍苍的男管家退出去以后，克利奥佩特拉说道，“甚至连法律方面的准备工作也完成了！”
“是的，夫人，”董贝先生回答道，“律师们告诉我，婚约现在已准备好了，正像我对您说的，伊迪丝只要指定个签订的日期就行了。”
伊迪丝像美丽的塑像一样坐着；像塑像一样冷淡，一样沉默，一样一动不动。
“我最亲爱的，”克利奥佩特拉说道，“你听到董贝先生说了吗？啊，我亲爱的董贝！”她转向这位先生，低声说道，“她因为时间快到而心不在焉的神态真使我想起了以往的那些日子啊，那时候，她爸爸那位世上少见的好人，就跟你现在的处境一样！”
“我不想建议什么日子。您喜欢什么时候就什么时候，”伊迪丝眼光几乎没有越过桌面，看着董贝先生，说道。
“明天？”，董贝先生建议。
“随您的便。”
“或者后天也可以，如果这更适合您安排料理各种事情的话？”董贝先生说道。
“我没有什么事情要安排料理。我总是听随您支配。您看什么日子就定什么日子吧。”
“没有什么事情要安排料理，我亲爱的伊迪丝！”她的母亲表示异议，说道，“要知道，你得从早到晚忙得团团转，你得跟各种各样的商人打一千零一次交道！”
“这由你去操办吧，”伊迪丝微微皱着眉头，转向她，回答道，“你跟董贝先生两人去商量安排好了。”
“完全正确，我亲爱的，你考虑得真周到！”克利奥佩特拉说道，“我亲爱的弗洛伦斯，你一定得真心到这里来再亲我一次，如果你愿意的话，我亲爱的！”
这是个奇怪的巧合：克利奥佩特拉对弗洛伦斯的这种关切，总是在她急忙要避开伊迪丝进来参加谈话之后，不论她谈的话是多么少！弗洛伦斯确实从来也没有接受过这么多的拥抱，也许在她的一生中也从来没有在无意间成为这样有用的人。
董贝先生在内心深处对他的美丽的未婚妻根本没有什么埋怨。他有充分理由同情她的傲慢与冷淡，因为他本人也同样具有这样的性格。他很高兴地想到，伊迪丝尊重他的意见，似乎他的意志就是她的意志。他很高兴地想象，这位高傲与庄严的女人怎样仿效他的态度在家中接待客人，使得他们拘谨畏缩。是的，董贝父子公司的尊严将会在这样的手中得到增进与维护。
当董贝先生独自一人留在餐桌旁，默默地思考着他的过去与未来的命运时，他是这样想的：他觉得他的这些命运跟这房间笼罩着的简陋与阴沉的气氛并没有什么不适合；房间是深褐色的，像丧徽一样的图画玷污了墙壁；二十四把黑色的椅子像被雇用的送丧人一样，在土耳其地毯的边缘等待着，椅子上装饰着许许多多的钉子，就像棺材的数目一样多①；餐具柜上枝状烛台的两枝凋残的烛枝由两位筋疲力尽的黑人托举着；房间里弥漫着一股发霉的气味，仿佛一万顿正餐正封埋在下面的石棺里面。房屋的主人有很多时间住在国外，英国的空气难能长期适合菲尼克斯家族中一位成员的喜爱；房间为他逐渐地穿上了愈来愈深的丧服，直到最后，丧葬的气氛已经十分浓厚了，除了尸体之外，什么也不缺了。
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①（某人或某事）棺材上的一个钉子（anailinsb’s（orit’s）coffin）是英国的一句成语，意即加速某人（或某事）灭亡的原因。这里把钉子数与棺材数相比，是由这句成语引起的联想。
由董贝先生暂且代表这具尸体倒也不坏，因为如果不去考虑他的姿势，单就他那毫不弯曲的身形来说，它和尸体实在没有什么差别。桃花心木的餐桌就像一片死海，水果盘子和圆酒瓶正停泊在海上，董贝先生低垂着眼睛，看着这片死海寒冷的深处，仿佛他在思考的人物正一个个地升浮到海面，然后又重新沉没下去。这里是伊迪丝，脸孔和身姿中呈现出威严的神态；紧挨着她的是弗洛伦斯，神色胆怯地朝着他，就跟她刚才离开房间那一刹那间的情形一样；伊迪丝的眼睛注视着她，伊迪丝伸出手来保护她。接着，一个坐在低矮的扶手椅中的小人儿突然出现在亮光中，惊奇地望着他；他那明亮的眼睛和又年轻又老态的脸孔就像晚间闪烁的炉火一样闪发出亮光。弗洛伦斯又来到了小人儿的身旁，吸引了他的全部注意力。董贝先生注意她，是不是由于她是注定要给他带来困难和使他感到失望的人呢？或者是不是由于她是曾经挡住他的道路，并可能再次挡住他的道路的劲敌呢？或者是不是由于她是他的孩子，现在他在求婚获得成功的时候，可以软下心来想一想她，因为她在这样的时候要求不再被他疏远了呢？或者是不是她对他是一种暗示：现在当他建立了新的家庭的时候，他必须至少在表面上对他的亲骨肉表示出一点关心呢？这一切只有他本人最明白。但也许他对这些并没有认真思考过，他心中充其量也仍然是模糊不清的，因为婚礼呀，圣坛呀以及雄心勃勃的远景呀（到处仍然都有个弗洛伦斯的黑点在里面，老是有弗洛伦斯），十分迅速地和杂乱无章地在他的心中闪现出来，因此，他只好站起身来，走上楼去避开它们。
夜里一直到很晚的时候也还没有点蜡烛，因为斯丘顿夫人抱怨，现在点蜡烛会使她头疼；整个晚上，弗洛伦斯和斯丘顿夫人谈着话（克利奥佩特拉急切地把她留在身边），或者是弗洛伦斯轻轻弹着钢琴给斯丘顿夫人消遣；那位慈爱的夫人有时还不得不要求弗洛伦斯再去亲她一下，而这又总是在伊迪丝说了什么话之后。不过伊迪丝说得不多，她不顾她母亲担心她会着凉，一直独自一人坐在打开的窗子旁边，直到董贝先生告辞之后才离开。他告别时，沉着平静地对弗洛伦斯表示了礼貌。弗洛伦斯走到邻近伊迪丝卧室的房间中去睡觉时感到十分幸福，充满了希望；当她想到她的过去时，就像想到另一个可怜的、被遗弃的女孩子一样；对这个女孩子的不幸是应当寄予同情的，她就在这种同情中哭泣着，哭泣着，睡去了。
这个星期过得很快。乘车前往妇女服饰店、缝纫店、珠宝店、律师事务所、花店和糕点店。弗洛伦斯经常陪着一道去。弗洛伦斯将参加婚礼。那时弗洛伦斯必须脱去丧服，穿上华丽的服装。妇女服饰商是一位法国女人，面貌很像斯丘顿夫人；她对弗洛伦斯这套服装的设计思想十分高雅、优美，所以斯丘顿夫人就给她自己也预定了式样相似的一套；那位妇女服饰商说，她穿起来一定人人赞美，大家都会以为她是那位小姐的姐姐呢。
这个星期过得更快了。伊迪丝什么也不看，什么也不关心。豪华的服装给她送到家里来，进行了试穿；斯丘顿夫人和妇女服饰商对它们高声赞扬，她则一声不吭地把它们收放起来。斯丘顿夫人拟订她们每天的计划，并执行着这些计划。有时候她们去买东西时，伊迪丝就在马车里坐着；有时候，当绝对有必要时，她才走进商店。但是不论在什么情况下，斯丘顿夫人都指挥着一切，而伊迪丝则毫无兴趣，显然冷冷淡淡地看着这一切，仿佛她对这丝毫也不关心似的。弗洛伦斯也许会想，她是傲慢的和无精打采的，但是她对待她却从来不曾这样，因此弗洛伦斯每当感到不可思议时，她就怀着感谢的心情把她的这种诧异压下去，并很快地克服了它。
这个星期过得更快了。它几乎是长着翅膀飞过去的。这星期的最后一夜，结婚前的一夜来临了。房间里仍然是黑暗的，因为斯丘顿夫人的头痛还没有好，虽然她希望明天能永远消除这个病症。在房间里的是斯丘顿夫人，伊迪丝和董贝先生。伊迪丝又坐在打开的窗子旁边，望着外面的街道；董贝先生和克利奥佩特拉坐在沙发上低声谈话。时间已经很晚了，弗洛伦斯觉得疲累，已经去睡觉了。
“我亲爱的董贝，”克利奥佩特拉说道，“
Chapter 31
The Wedding
Dawn with its passionless blank face, steals shivering to the church beneath which lies the dust of little Paul and his mother, and looks in at the windows. It is cold and dark. Night crouches yet, upon the pavement, and broods, sombre and heavy, in nooks and corners of the building. The steeple-clock, perched up above the houses, emerging from beneath another of the countless ripples in the tide of time that regularly roll and break on the eternal shore, is greyly visible, like a stone beacon, recording how the sea flows on; but within doors, dawn, at first, can only peep at night, and see that it is there.
Hovering feebly round the church, and looking in, dawn moans and weeps for its short reign, and its tears trickle on the window-glass, and the trees against the church-wall bow their heads, and wring their many hands in sympathy. Night, growing pale before it, gradually fades out of the church, but lingers in the vaults below, and sits upon the coffins. And now comes bright day, burnishing the steeple-clock, and reddening the spire, and drying up the tears of dawn, and stifling its complaining; and the dawn, following the night, and chasing it from its last refuge, shrinks into the vaults itself and hides, with a frightened face, among the dead, until night returns, refreshed, to drive it out.
And now, the mice, who have been busier with the prayer-books than their proper owners, and with the hassocks, more worn by their little teeth than by human knees, hide their bright eyes in their holes, and gather close together in affright at the resounding clashing of the church-door. For the beadle, that man of power, comes early this morning with the sexton; and Mrs Miff, the wheezy little pew-opener - a mighty dry old lady, sparely dressed, with not an inch of fulness anywhere about her - is also here, and has been waiting at the church-gate half-an-hour, as her place is, for the beadle.
A vinegary face has Mrs Miff, and a mortified bonnet, and eke a thirsty soul for sixpences and shillings. Beckoning to stray people to come into pews, has given Mrs Miff an air of mystery; and there is reservation in the eye of Mrs Miff, as always knowing of a softer seat, but having her suspicions of the fee. There is no such fact as Mr Miff, nor has there been, these twenty years, and Mrs Miff would rather not allude to him. He held some bad opinions, it would seem, about free seats; and though Mrs Miff hopes he may be gone upwards, she couldn't positively undertake to say so.
Busy is Mrs Miff this morning at the church-door, beating and dusting the altar-cloth, the carpet, and the cushions; and much has Mrs Miff to say, about the wedding they are going to have. Mrs Miff is told, that the new furniture and alterations in the house cost full five thousand pound if they cost a penny; and Mrs Miff has heard, upon the best authority, that the lady hasn't got a sixpence wherewithal to bless herself. Mrs Miff remembers, like wise, as if it had happened yesterday, the first wife's funeral, and then the christening, and then the other funeral; and Mrs Miff says, by-the-bye she'll soap-and-water that 'ere tablet presently, against the company arrive. Mr Sownds the Beadle, who is sitting in the sun upon the church steps all this time (and seldom does anything else, except, in cold weather, sitting by the fire), approves of Mrs Miff's discourse, and asks if Mrs Miff has heard it said, that the lady is uncommon handsome? The information Mrs Miff has received, being of this nature, Mr Sownds the Beadle, who, though orthodox and corpulent, is still an admirer of female beauty, observes, with unction, yes, he hears she is a spanker - an expression that seems somewhat forcible to Mrs Miff, or would, from any lips but those of Mr Sownds the Beadle.
In Mr Dombey's house, at this same time, there is great stir and bustle, more especially among the women: not one of whom has had a wink of sleep since four o'clock, and all of whom were fully dressed before six. Mr Towlinson is an object of greater consideration than usual to the housemaid, and the cook says at breakfast time that one wedding makes many, which the housemaid can't believe, and don't think true at all. Mr Towlinson reserves his sentiments on this question; being rendered something gloomy by the engagement of a foreigner with whiskers (Mr Towlinson is whiskerless himself), who has been hired to accompany the happy pair to Paris, and who is busy packing the new chariot. In respect of this personage, Mr Towlinson admits, presently, that he never knew of any good that ever come of foreigners; and being charged by the ladies with prejudice, says, look at Bonaparte who was at the head of 'em, and see what he was always up to! Which the housemaid says is very true.
The pastry-cook is hard at work in the funereal room in Brook Street, and the very tall young men are busy looking on. One of the very tall young men already smells of sherry, and his eyes have a tendency to become fixed in his head, and to stare at objects without seeing them. The very tall young man is conscious of this failing in himself; and informs his comrade that it's his 'exciseman.' The very tall young man would say excitement, but his speech is hazy.
The men who play the bells have got scent of the marriage; and the marrow-bones and cleavers too; and a brass band too. The first, are practising in a back settlement near Battlebridge; the second, put themselves in communication, through their chief, with Mr Towlinson, to whom they offer terms to be bought off; and the third, in the person of an artful trombone, lurks and dodges round the corner, waiting for some traitor tradesman to reveal the place and hour of breakfast, for a bribe. Expectation and excitement extend further yet, and take a wider range. From Balls Pond, Mr Perch brings Mrs Perch to spend the day with Mr Dombey's servants, and accompany them, surreptitiously, to see the wedding. In Mr Toots's lodgings, Mr Toots attires himself as if he were at least the Bridegroom; determined to behold the spectacle in splendour from a secret corner of the gallery, and thither to convey the Chicken: for it is Mr Toots's desperate intent to point out Florence to the Chicken, then and there, and openly to say, 'Now, Chicken, I will not deceive you any longer; the friend I have sometimes mentioned to you is myself; Miss Dombey is the object of my passion; what are your opinions, Chicken, in this state of things, and what, on the spot, do you advise? The so-much-to-be-astonished Chicken, in the meanwhile, dips his beak into a tankard of strong beer, in Mr Toots's kitchen, and pecks up two pounds of beefsteaks. In Princess's Place, Miss Tox is up and doing; for she too, though in sore distress, is resolved to put a shilling in the hands of Mrs Miff, and see the ceremony which has a cruel fascination for her, from some lonely corner. The quarters of the wooden Midshipman are all alive; for Captain Cuttle, in his ankle-jacks and with a huge shirt-collar, is seated at his breakfast, listening to Rob the Grinder as he reads the marriage service to him beforehand, under orders, to the end that the Captain may perfectly understand the solemnity he is about to witness: for which purpose, the Captain gravely lays injunctions on his chaplain, from time to time, to 'put about,' or to 'overhaul that 'ere article again,' or to stick to his own duty, and leave the Amens to him, the Captain; one of which he repeats, whenever a pause is made by Rob the Grinder, with sonorous satisfaction.
Besides all this, and much more, twenty nursery-maids in Mr Dombey's street alone, have promised twenty families of little women, whose instinctive interest in nuptials dates from their cradles, that they shall go and see the marriage. Truly, Mr Sownds the Beadle has good reason to feel himself in office, as he suns his portly figure on the church steps, waiting for the marriage hour. Truly, Mrs Miff has cause to pounce on an unlucky dwarf child, with a giant baby, who peeps in at the porch, and drive her forth with indignation!
Cousin Feenix has come over from abroad, expressly to attend the marriage. Cousin Feenix was a man about town, forty years ago; but he is still so juvenile in figure and in manner, and so well got up, that strangers are amazed when they discover latent wrinkles in his lordship's face, and crows' feet in his eyes: and first observe him, not exactly certain when he walks across a room, of going quite straight to where he wants to go. But Cousin Feenix, getting up at half-past seven o'clock or so, is quite another thing from Cousin Feenix got up; and very dim, indeed, he looks, while being shaved at Long's Hotel, in Bond Street.
Mr Dombey leaves his dressing-room, amidst a general whisking away of the women on the staircase, who disperse in all directions, with a great rustling of skirts, except Mrs Perch, who, being (but that she always is) in an interesting situation, is not nimble, and is obliged to face him, and is ready to sink with confusion as she curtesys; - may Heaven avert all evil consequences from the house of Perch! Mr Dombey walks up to the drawing-room, to bide his time. Gorgeous are Mr Dombey's new blue coat, fawn-coloured pantaloons, and lilac waistcoat; and a whisper goes about the house, that Mr Dombey's hair is curled.
A double knock announces the arrival of the Major, who is gorgeous too, and wears a whole geranium in his button-hole, and has his hair curled tight and crisp, as well the Native knows.
'Dombey!' says the Major, putting out both hands, 'how are you?'
'Major,' says Mr Dombey, 'how are You?'
'By Jove, Sir,' says the Major, 'Joey B. is in such case this morning, Sir,' - and here he hits himself hard upon the breast - 'In such case this morning, Sir, that, damme, Dombey, he has half a mind to make a double marriage of it, Sir, and take the mother.'
Mr Dombey smiles; but faintly, even for him; for Mr Dombey feels that he is going to be related to the mother, and that, under those circumstances, she is not to be joked about.
'Dombey,' says the Major, seeing this, 'I give you joy. I congratulate you, Dombey. By the Lord, Sir,' says the Major, 'you are more to be envied, this day, than any man in England!'
Here again Mr Dombey's assent is qualified; because he is going to confer a great distinction on a lady; and, no doubt, she is to be envied most.
'As to Edith Granger, Sir,' pursues the Major, 'there is not a woman in all Europe but might - and would, Sir, you will allow Bagstock to add - and would- give her ears, and her earrings, too, to be in Edith Granger's place.'
'You are good enough to say so, Major,' says Mr Dombey.
'Dombey,' returns the Major, 'you know it. Let us have no false delicacy. You know it. Do you know it, or do you not, Dombey?' says the Major, almost in a passion.
'Oh, really, Major - '
'Damme, Sir,' retorts the Major, 'do you know that fact, or do you not? Dombey! Is old Joe your friend? Are we on that footing of unreserved intimacy, Dombey, that may justify a man - a blunt old Joseph B., Sir - in speaking out; or am I to take open order, Dombey, and to keep my distance, and to stand on forms?'
'My dear Major Bagstock,' says Mr Dombey, with a gratified air, 'you are quite warm.'
'By Gad, Sir,' says the Major, 'I am warm. Joseph B. does not deny it, Dombey. He is warm. This is an occasion, Sir, that calls forth all the honest sympathies remaining in an old, infernal, battered, used-up, invalided, J. B. carcase. And I tell you what, Dombey - at such a time a man must blurt out what he feels, or put a muzzle on; and Joseph Bagstock tells you to your face, Dombey, as he tells his club behind your back, that he never will be muzzled when Paul Dombey is in question. Now, damme, Sir,' concludes the Major, with great firmness, 'what do you make of that?'
'Major,' says Mr Dombey, 'I assure you that I am really obliged to you. I had no idea of checking your too partial friendship.'
'Not too partial, Sir!' exclaims the choleric Major. 'Dombey, I deny it.'
'Your friendship I will say then,' pursues Mr Dombey, 'on any account. Nor can I forget, Major, on such an occasion as the present, how much I am indebted to it.'
'Dombey,' says the Major, with appropriate action, 'that is the hand of Joseph Bagstock: of plain old Joey B., Sir, if you like that better! That is the hand, of which His Royal Highness the late Duke of York, did me the honour to observe, Sir, to His Royal Highness the late Duke of Kent, that it was the hand of Josh: a rough and tough, and possibly an up-to-snuff, old vagabond. Dombey, may the present moment be the least unhappy of our lives. God bless you!'
Now enters Mr Carker, gorgeous likewise, and smiling like a wedding-guest indeed. He can scarcely let Mr Dombey's hand go, he is so congratulatory; and he shakes the Major's hand so heartily at the same time, that his voice shakes too, in accord with his arms, as it comes sliding from between his teeth.
'The very day is auspicious,' says Mr Carker. 'The brightest and most genial weather! I hope I am not a moment late?'
'Punctual to your time, Sir,' says the Major.
'I am rejoiced, I am sure,' says Mr Carker. 'I was afraid I might be a few seconds after the appointed time, for I was delayed by a procession of waggons; and I took the liberty of riding round to Brook Street' - this to Mr Dombey - 'to leave a few poor rarities of flowers for Mrs Dombey. A man in my position, and so distinguished as to be invited here, is proud to offer some homage in acknowledgment of his vassalage: and as I have no doubt Mrs Dombey is overwhelmed with what is costly and magnificent;' with a strange glance at his patron; 'I hope the very poverty of my offering, may find favour for it.'
'Mrs Dombey, that is to be,' returns Mr Dombey, condescendingly, 'will be very sensible of your attention, Carker, I am sure.'
'And if she is to be Mrs Dombey this morning, Sir,' says the Major, putting down his coffee-cup, and looking at his watch, 'it's high time we were off!'
Forth, in a barouche, ride Mr Dombey, Major Bagstock, and Mr Carker, to the church. Mr Sownds the Beadle has long risen from the steps, and is in waiting with his cocked hat in his hand. Mrs Miff curtseys and proposes chairs in the vestry. Mr Dombey prefers remaining in the church. As he looks up at the organ, Miss Tox in the gallery shrinks behind the fat leg of a cherubim on a monument, with cheeks like a young Wind. Captain Cuttle, on the contrary, stands up and waves his hook, in token of welcome and encouragement. Mr Toots informs the Chicken, behind his hand, that the middle gentleman, he in the fawn-coloured pantaloons, is the father of his love. The Chicken hoarsely whispers Mr Toots that he's as stiff a cove as ever he see, but that it is within the resources of Science to double him up, with one blow in the waistcoat.
Mr Sownds and Mrs Miff are eyeing Mr Dombey from a little distance, when the noise of approaching wheels is heard, and Mr Sownds goes out. Mrs Miff, meeting Mr Dombey's eye as it is withdrawn from the presumptuous maniac upstairs, who salutes him with so much urbanity, drops a curtsey, and informs him that she believes his 'good lady' is come. Then there is a crowding and a whispering at the door, and the good lady enters, with a haughty step.
There is no sign upon her face, of last night's suffering; there is no trace in her manner, of the woman on the bended knees, reposing her wild head, in beautiful abandonment, upon the pillow of the sleeping girl. That girl, all gentle and lovely, is at her side - a striking contrast to her own disdainful and defiant figure, standing there, composed, erect, inscrutable of will, resplendent and majestic in the zenith of its charms, yet beating down, and treading on, the admiration that it challenges.
There is a pause while Mr Sownds the Beadle glides into the vestry for the clergyman and clerk. At this juncture, Mrs Skewton speaks to Mr Dombey: more distinctly and emphatically than her custom is, and moving at the same time, close to Edith.
'My dear Dombey,' said the good Mama, 'I fear I must relinquish darling Florence after all, and suffer her to go home, as she herself proposed. After my loss of to-day, my dear Dombey, I feel I shall not have spirits, even for her society.'
'Had she not better stay with you?' returns the Bridegroom.
'I think not, my dear Dombey. No, I think not. I shall be better alone. Besides, my dearest Edith will be her natural and constant guardian when you return, and I had better not encroach upon her trust, perhaps. She might be jealous. Eh, dear Edith?'
The affectionate Mama presses her daughter's arm, as she says this; perhaps entreating her attention earnestly.
'To be serious, my dear Dombey,' she resumes, 'I will relinquish our dear child, and not inflict my gloom upon her. We have settled that, just now. She fully understands, dear Dombey. Edith, my dear, - she fully understands.'
Again, the good mother presses her daughter's arm. Mr Dombey offers no additional remonstrance; for the clergyman and clerk appear; and Mrs Miff, and Mr Sownds the Beadle, group the party in their proper places at the altar rails.
The sun is shining down, upon the golden letters of the ten commandments. Why does the Bride's eye read them, one by one? Which one of all the ten appears the plainest to her in the glare of light? False Gods; murder; theft; the honour that she owes her mother; - which is it that appears to leave the wall, and printing itself in glowing letters, on her book!
"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?"'
Cousin Feenix does that. He has come from Baden-Baden on purpose. 'Confound it,' Cousin Feenix says - good-natured creature, Cousin Feenix - 'when we do get a rich City fellow into the family, let us show him some attention; let us do something for him.' I give this woman to be married to this man,' saith Cousin Feenix therefore. Cousin Feenix, meaning to go in a straight line, but turning off sideways by reason of his wilful legs, gives the wrong woman to be married to this man, at first - to wit, a brides- maid of some condition, distantly connected with the family, and ten years Mrs Skewton's junior - but Mrs Miff, interposing her mortified bonnet, dexterously turns him back, and runs him, as on castors, full at the 'good lady:' whom Cousin Feenix giveth to married to this man accordingly. And will they in the sight of heaven - ? Ay, that they will: Mr Dombey says he will. And what says Edith? She will. So, from that day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do them part, they plight their troth to one another, and are married. In a firm, free hand, the Bride subscribes her name in the register, when they adjourn to the vestry. 'There ain't a many ladies come here,' Mrs Miff says with a curtsey - to look at Mrs Miff, at such a season, is to make her mortified bonnet go down with a dip - writes their names like this good lady!' Mr Sownds the Beadle thinks it is a truly spanking signature, and worthy of the writer - this, however, between himself and conscience. Florence signs too, but unapplauded, for her hand shakes. All the party sign; Cousin Feenix last; who puts his noble name into a wrong place, and enrols himself as having been born that morning. The Major now salutes the Bride right gallantly, and carries out that branch of military tactics in reference to all the ladies: notwithstanding Mrs Skewton's being extremely hard to kiss, and squeaking shrilly in the sacred edIfice. The example is followed by Cousin. Feenix and even by Mr Dombey. Lastly, Mr Carker, with hIs white teeth glistening, approaches Edith, more as if he meant to bite her, than to taste the sweets that linger on her lips.
There is a glow upon her proud cheek, and a flashing in her eyes, that may be meant to stay him; but it does not, for he salutes her as the rest have done, and wishes her all happiness.
'If wishes,' says he in a low voice, 'are not superfluous, applied to such a union.'
'I thank you, Sir,' she answers, with a curled lip, and a heaving bosom.
But, does Edith feel still, as on the night when she knew that Mr Dombey would return to offer his alliance, that Carker knows her thoroughly, and reads her right, and that she is more degraded by his knowledge of her, than by aught else? Is it for this reason that her haughtiness shrinks beneath his smile, like snow within the hands that grasps it firmly, and that her imperious glance droops In meeting his, and seeks the ground?
'I am proud to see,' said Mr Carker, with a servile stooping of his neck, which the revelations making by his eyes and teeth proclaim to be a lie, 'I am proud to see that my humble offering is graced by Mrs Dombey's hand, and permitted to hold so favoured a place in so joyful an occasion.'
Though she bends her head, in answer, there is something in the momentary action of her hand, as if she would crush the flowers it holds, and fling them, with contempt, upon the ground. But, she puts the hand through the arm of her new husband, who has been standing near, conversing with the Major, and is proud again, and motionless, and silent.
The carriages are once more at the church door. Mr Dombey, with his bride upon his arm, conducts her through the twenty families of little women who are on the steps, and every one of whom remembers the fashion and the colour of her every article of dress from that moment, and reproduces it on her doll, who is for ever being married. Cleopatra and Cousin Feenix enter the same carriage. The Major hands into a second carriage, Florence, and the bridesmaid who so narrowly escaped being given away by mistake, and then enters it himself, and is followed by Mr Carker. Horses prance and caper; coachmen and footmen shine in fluttering favours, flowers, and new-made liveries. Away they dash and rattle through the streets; and as they pass along, a thousand heads are turned to look at them, and a thousand sober moralists revenge themselves for not being married too, that morning, by reflecting that these people little think such happiness can't last.
Miss Tox emerges from behind the cherubim's leg, when all is quiet, and comes slowly down from the gallery. Miss Tox's eyes are red, and her pocket-handkerchief is damp. She is wounded, but not exasperated, and she hopes they may be happy. She quite admits to herself the beauty of the bride, and her own comparatively feeble and faded attractions; but the stately image of Mr Dombey in his lilac waistcoat, and his fawn-coloured pantaloons, is present to her mind, and Miss Tox weeps afresh, behind her veil, on her way home to Princess's Place. Captain Cuttle, having joined in all the amens and responses, with a devout growl, feels much improved by his religious exercises; and in a peaceful frame of mind pervades the body of the church, glazed hat in hand, and reads the tablet to the memory of little Paul. The gallant Mr Toots, attended by the faithful Chicken, leaves the building in torments of love. The Chicken is as yet unable to elaborate a scheme for winning Florence, but his first idea has gained possession of him, and he thinks the doubling up of Mr Dombey would be a move in the right direction. Mr Dombey's servants come out of their hiding-places, and prepare to rush to Brook Street, when they are delayed by symptoms of indisposition on the part of Mrs Perch, who entreats a glass of water, and becomes alarming; Mrs Perch gets better soon, however, and is borne away; and Mrs Miff, and Mr Sownds the Beadle, sit upon the steps to count what they have gained by the affair, and talk it over, while the sexton tolls a funeral.
Now, the carriages arrive at the Bride's residence, and the players on the bells begin to jingle, and the band strikes up, and Mr Punch, that model of connubial bliss, salutes his wife. Now, the people run, and push, and press round in a gaping throng, while Mr Dombey, leading Mrs Dombey by the hand, advances solemnly into the Feenix Halls. Now, the rest of the wedding party alight, and enter after them. And why does Mr Carker, passing through the people to the hall-door, think of the old woman who called to him in the Grove that morning? Or why does Florence, as she passes, think, with a tremble, of her childhood, when she was lost, and of the visage of Good Mrs Brown?
Now, there are more congratulations on this happiest of days, and more company, though not much; and now they leave the drawing-room, and range themselves at table in the dark-brown dining-room, which no confectioner can brighten up, let him garnish the exhausted negroes with as many flowers and love-knots as he will.
The pastry-cook has done his duty like a man, though, and a rich breakfast is set forth. Mr and Mrs Chick have joined the party, among others. Mrs Chick admires that Edith should be, by nature, such a perfect Dombey; and is affable and confidential to Mrs Skewton, whose mind is relieved of a great load, and who takes her share of the champagne. The very tall young man who suffered from excitement early, is better; but a vague sentiment of repentance has seized upon him, and he hates the other very tall young man, and wrests dishes from him by violence, and takes a grim delight in disobliging the company. The company are cool and calm, and do not outrage the black hatchments of pictures looking down upon them, by any excess of mirth. Cousin Feenix and the Major are the gayest there; but Mr Carker has a smile for the whole table. He has an especial smile for the Bride, who very, very seldom meets it.
Cousin Feenix rises, when the company have breakfasted, and the servants have left the room; and wonderfully young he looks, with his white wristbands almost covering his hands (otherwise rather bony), and the bloom of the champagne in his cheeks.
'Upon my honour,' says Cousin Feenix, 'although it's an unusual sort of thing in a private gentleman's house, I must beg leave to call upon you to drink what is usually called a - in fact a toast.
The Major very hoarsely indicates his approval. Mr Carker, bending his head forward over the table in the direction of Cousin Feenix, smiles and nods a great many times.
'A - in fact it's not a - ' Cousin Feenix beginning again, thus, comes to a dead stop.
'Hear, hear!' says the Major, in a tone of conviction.
Mr Carker softly claps his hands, and bending forward over the table again, smiles and nods a great many more times than before, as if he were particularly struck by this last observation, and desired personally to express his sense of the good it has done
'It is,' says Cousin Feenix, 'an occasion in fact, when the general usages of life may be a little departed from, without impropriety; and although I never was an orator in my life, and when I was in the House of Commons, and had the honour of seconding the address, was - in fact, was laid up for a fortnight with the consciousness of failure - '
The Major and Mr Carker are so much delighted by this fragment of personal history, that Cousin Feenix laughs, and addressing them individually, goes on to say:
'And in point of fact, when I was devilish ill - still, you know, I feel that a duty devolves upon me. And when a duty devolves upon an Englishman, he is bound to get out of it, in my opinion, in the best way he can. Well! our family has had the gratification, to-day, of connecting itself, in the person of my lovely and accomplished relative, whom I now see - in point of fact, present - '
Here there is general applause.
'Present,' repeats Cousin Feenix, feeling that it is a neat point which will bear repetition, - 'with one who - that is to say, with a man, at whom the finger of scorn can never - in fact, with my honourable friend Dombey, if he will allow me to call him so.'
Cousin Feenix bows to Mr Dombey; Mr Dombey solemnly returns the bow; everybody is more or less gratified and affected by this extraordinary, and perhaps unprecedented, appeal to the feelings.
'I have not,' says Cousin Feenix, 'enjoyed those opportunities which I could have desired, of cultivating the acquaintance of my friend Dombey, and studying those qualities which do equal honour to his head, and, in point of fact, to his heart; for it has been my misfortune to be, as we used to say in my time in the House of Commons, when it was not the custom to allude to the Lords, and when the order of parliamentary proceedings was perhaps better observed than it is now - to be in - in point of fact,' says Cousin Feenix, cherishing his joke, with great slyness, and finally bringing it out with a jerk, "'in another place!"'
The Major falls into convulsions, and is recovered with difficulty.
'But I know sufficient of my friend Dombey,' resumes Cousin Feenix in a graver tone, as if he had suddenly become a sadder and wiser man' 'to know that he is, in point of fact, what may be emphatically called a - a merchant - a British merchant - and a - and a man. And although I have been resident abroad, for some years (it would give me great pleasure to receive my friend Dombey, and everybody here, at Baden-Baden, and to have an opportunity of making 'em known to the Grand Duke), still I know enough, I flatter myself, of my lovely and accomplished relative, to know that she possesses every requisite to make a man happy, and that her marriage with my friend Dombey is one of inclination and affection on both sides.'
Many smiles and nods from Mr Carker.
'Therefore,' says Cousin Feenix, 'I congratulate the family of which I am a member, on the acquisition of my friend Dombey. I congratulate my friend Dombey on his union with my lovely and accomplished relative who possesses every requisite to make a man happy; and I take the liberty of calling on you all, in point of fact, to congratulate both my friend Dombey and my lovely and accomplished relative, on the present occasion.'
The speech of Cousin Feenix is received with great applause, and Mr Dombey returns thanks on behalf of himself and Mrs Dombey. J. B. shortly afterwards proposes Mrs Skewton. The breakfast languishes when that is done, the violated hatchments are avenged, and Edith rises to assume her travelling dress.
All the servants in the meantime, have been breakfasting below. Champagne has grown too common among them to be mentioned, and roast fowls, raised pies, and lobster-salad, have become mere drugs. The very tall young man has recovered his spirits, and again alludes to the exciseman. His comrade's eye begins to emulate his own, and he, too, stares at objects without taking cognizance thereof. There is a general redness in the faces of the ladies; in the face of Mrs Perch particularly, who is joyous and beaming, and lifted so far above the cares of life, that if she were asked just now to direct a wayfarer to Ball's Pond, where her own cares lodge, she would have some difficulty in recalling the way. Mr Towlinson has proposed the happy pair; to which the silver-headed butler has responded neatly, and with emotion; for he half begins to think he is an old retainer of the family, and that he is bound to be affected by these changes. The whole party, and especially the ladies, are very frolicsome. Mr Dombey's cook, who generally takes the lead in society, has said, it is impossible to settle down after this, and why not go, in a party, to the play? Everybody (Mrs Perch included) has agreed to this; even the Native, who is tigerish in his drink, and who alarms the ladies (Mrs Perch particularly) by the rolling of his eyes. One of the very tall young men has even proposed a ball after the play, and it presents itself to no one (Mrs Perch included) in the light of an impossibility. Words have arisen between the housemaid and Mr Towlinson; she, on the authority of an old saw, asserting marriages to be made in Heaven: he, affecting to trace the manufacture elsewhere; he, supposing that she says so, because she thinks of being married her own self: she, saying, Lord forbid, at any rate, that she should ever marry him. To calm these flying taunts, the silver-headed butler rises to propose the health of Mr Towlinson, whom to know is to esteem, and to esteem is to wish well settled in life with the object of his choice, wherever (here the silver-headed butler eyes the housemaid) she may be. Mr Towlinson returns thanks in a speech replete with feeling, of which the peroration turns on foreigners, regarding whom he says they may find favour, sometimes, with weak and inconstant intellects that can be led away by hair, but all he hopes, is, he may never hear of no foreigner never boning nothing out of no travelling chariot. The eye of Mr Towlinson is so severe and so expressive here, that the housemaid is turning hysterical, when she and all the rest, roused by the intelligence that the Bride is going away, hurry upstairs to witness her departure.
The chariot is at the door; the Bride is descending to the hall, where Mr Dombey waits for her. Florence is ready on the staircase to depart too; and Miss Nipper, who has held a middle state between the parlour and the kitchen, is prepared to accompany her. As Edith appears, Florence hastens towards her, to bid her farewell.
Is Edith cold, that she should tremble! Is there anything unnatural or unwholesome in the touch of Florence, that the beautiful form recedes and contracts, as if it could not bear it! Is there so much hurry in this going away, that Edith, with a wave of her hand, sweeps on, and is gone!
Mrs Skewton, overpowered by her feelings as a mother, sinks on her sofa in the Cleopatra attitude, when the clatter of the chariot wheels is lost, and sheds several tears. The Major, coming with the rest of the company from table, endeavours to comfort her; but she will not be comforted on any terms, and so the Major takes his leave. Cousin Feenix takes his leave, and Mr Carker takes his leave. The guests all go away. Cleopatra, left alone, feels a little giddy from her strong emotion, and falls asleep.
Giddiness prevails below stairs too. The very tall young man whose excitement came on so soon, appears to have his head glued to the table in the pantry, and cannot be detached from - it. A violent revulsion has taken place in the spirits of Mrs Perch, who is low on account of Mr Perch, and tells cook that she fears he is not so much attached to his home, as he used to be, when they were only nine in family. Mr Towlinson has a singing in his ears and a large wheel going round and round inside his head. The housemaid wishes it wasn't wicked to wish that one was dead.
There is a general delusion likewise, in these lower regions, on the subject of time; everybody conceiving that it ought to be, at the earliest, ten o'clock at night, whereas it is not yet three in the afternoon. A shadowy idea of wickedness committed, haunts every individual in the party; and each one secretly thinks the other a companion in guilt, whom it would be agreeable to avoid. No man or woman has the hardihood to hint at the projected visit to the play. Anyone reviving the notion of the ball, would be scouted as a malignant idiot.
Mrs Skewton sleeps upstairs, two hours afterwards, and naps are not yet over in the kitchen. The hatchments in the dining-room look down on crumbs, dirty plates, spillings of wine, half-thawed ice, stale discoloured heel-taps, scraps of lobster, drumsticks of fowls, and pensive jellies, gradually resolving themselves into a lukewarm gummy soup. The marriage is, by this time, almost as denuded of its show and garnish as the breakfast. Mr Dombey's servants moralise so much about it, and are so repentant over their early tea, at home, that by eight o'clock or so, they settle down into confirmed seriousness; and Mr Perch, arriving at that time from the City, fresh and jocular, with a white waistcoat and a comic song, ready to spend the evening, and prepared for any amount of dissipation, is amazed to find himself coldly received, and Mrs Perch but poorly, and to have the pleasing duty of escorting that lady home by the next omnibus.
Night closes in. Florence, having rambled through the handsome house, from room to room, seeks her own chamber, where the care of Edith has surrounded her with luxuries and comforts; and divesting herself of her handsome dress, puts on her old simple mourning for dear Paul, and sits down to read, with Diogenes winking and blinking on the ground beside her. But Florence cannot read tonight. The house seems strange and new, and there are loud echoes in it. There is a shadow on her heart: she knows not why or what: but it is heavy. Florence shuts her book, and gruff Diogenes, who takes that for a signal, puts his paws upon her lap, and rubs his ears against her caressing hands. But Florence cannot see him plainly, in a little time, for there is a mist between her eyes and him, and her dead brother and dead mother shine in it like angels. Walter, too, poor wandering shipwrecked boy, oh, where is he?
The Major don't know; that's for certain; and don't care. The Major, having choked and slumbered, all the afternoon, has taken a late dinner at his club, and now sits over his pint of wine, driving a modest young man, with a fresh-coloured face, at the next table (who would give a handsome sum to be able to rise and go away, but cannot do it) to the verge of madness, by anecdotes of Bagstock, Sir, at Dombey's wedding, and Old Joe's devilish gentle manly friend, Lord Feenix. While Cousin Feenix, who ought to be at Long's, and in bed, finds himself, instead, at a gaming-table, where his wilful legs have taken him, perhaps, in his own despite.
Night, like a giant, fills the church, from pavement to roof, and holds dominion through the silent hours. Pale dawn again comes peeping through the windows: and, giving place to day, sees night withdraw into the vaults, and follows it, and drives it out, and hides among the dead. The timid mice again cower close together, when the great door clashes, and Mr Sownds and Mrs Miff treading the circle of their daily lives, unbroken as a marriage ring, come in. Again, the cocked hat and the mortified bonnet stand in the background at the marriage hour; and again this man taketh this woman, and this woman taketh this man, on the solemn terms:
'To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do them part.'
The very words that Mr Carker rides into town repeating, with his mouth stretched to the utmost, as he picks his dainty way.
黎明露出没有热情、茫然发呆的脸孔，哆哆嗦嗦地，悄悄地来到教堂；从窗口往里面张望，小保罗和他母亲的骨灰就躺在这个教堂的下面。这时是寒冷与黑暗的。夜还依旧蹲伏在铺石路上，阴郁与深沉地暗藏在这座建筑物的各个角落和隐僻的地方。时间的潮流不规律地冲刷和拍打着永恒之岸；巍然高耸在房屋上空的教堂尖塔上的钟，从这无数波浪的又一个波浪中浮现出来，露出它灰暗的形象；它像一个石头的灯塔，记录着海水怎样流动；可是在教堂里面，黎明最初只能窥探一下而已，它看见夜依旧在那里。
黎明在教堂周围软弱无力地徘徊着，向窗子里张望着，为它短促的统治呻吟和哀哭着，它的眼泪在窗玻璃上流淌；教堂围墙近旁的树木低垂着头，它们的许多手紧紧地相互绞扭着，表示同情。夜在黎明面前脸色苍白，渐渐地离开了教堂，但却依依不舍地留在安放骨灰的地下灵堂中，并坐在棺材上面。现在，明亮的白天来到了，它把教堂尖塔上的钟擦亮，给塔尖染红，并抹干黎明的眼泪，压住它的怨言。心惊胆战的黎明跟随在夜的后面，把它从它最后的藏身场所赶跑，它自己则退缩到地下灵堂当中，躲藏在死人中间，直到夜恢复精神，重新回来时把它撵走为止。
耗子们本来正在对祈祷书下着功夫，它们那孜孜不倦的精神超过了书的合法主人；它们细小的牙齿对跪垫所造成的磨损也大大超出了人们膝盖所能达到的程度；这时它们听到教堂大门打开时发出的铿锵响声的回荡，就都把亮晶晶的眼睛隐藏在洞里，恐惧不安地聚集在一起。因为这天早上，教区事务员这位掌握权力的人物和教堂司事一起很早就来了。米福太太这位矮小的教堂领座人也在这里，她呼哧呼哧地一直喘着气；她是一位非常枯瘦的老太太，穿着可怜，全身上下找不到一英寸丰满的地方；她在教堂门口等候教区事务员已等了半个钟头；就她的职位来说，是应当这样做的。
米福太太有一副愁眉苦脸，一顶干瘪的女帽，另外还有一颗渴望得到六便士硬币和一先令硬币的心。她喜爱招呼偶尔从这里走过的人们到教堂里去入座听讲，这赋予她一种神秘的神态；在她的眼光中流露出不露真情的神色，好像她知道哪个座位更柔软舒适，但她怀疑指点出来是否能得到小费。没有米福先生这样的人，这二十年来从来没有过他，米福太太也宁肯不提到他。他似乎对免费入座很不以为然；虽然米福太太希望他升入天堂，然而她却不能肯定地答应说这样的话。
这天早上米福太太在教堂门口十分忙碌，她敲打着圣坛罩、地毯和垫子，拂去它们的灰尘；米福太太对即将举行的婚礼也有许多话要讲。米福太太听别人说，那座公馆购置新家具和修缮装饰的费用无论如何也不少于五千英镑；米福太太还从可靠人士那里打听到，这位夫人连六个便士也没有花。米福太太还清清楚楚地记得第一个妻子的葬礼，然后是洗礼，然后是另一次葬礼，仿佛这些事情是昨天发生的一样；米福太太说，她得在客人们来到之前，立即用肥皂水顺便把这些墓碑擦洗干净。教区事务员桑兹先生一直坐在教堂台阶上晒太阳（除了天气寒冷的时候坐在炉旁取暖外，他很少做别的事）；他称赞米福太太的谈话，并问米福太太有没有听说，这位夫人长得非常非常漂亮？教区事务员桑兹先生虽然信奉正教教义，本人长得肥头胖耳，但他却仍然是一位女性美色的爱慕者；由于米福太太也听到这个消息，他就津津有味地说，是的，他听说她是个顶呱呱的女人，——这个说法如果不是从教区事务员桑兹先生的嘴中，而是从别人的嘴中说出的话，那么对米福太太来说，它似乎有几分不堪入耳。
董贝先生家里这时候忙乱得不可开交，特别是妇女们，从四点钟起，她们没有一个人合眼睡过一下子；六点钟以前，她们全都穿着得漂漂亮亮。托林森先生比平时更受女仆的青睐；吃早饭的时候，厨娘说，在一次婚礼之后就会接着举行很多个婚礼；女仆不相信这个说法，认为这根本不正确；托林森先生在这个问题上没有发表意见，因为一位留连鬓胡子的外国人（托林森先生本人没有连鬓胡子）被雇来陪伴幸福的新婚夫妇去巴黎，他的来到使托林森先生感到有些闷闷不乐。这位外国人正忙着给崭新的四轮轻便马车装上东西。对于这个人，托林森先生立即发表他的看法，他说，他从来没有见到从外国人身上能得到什么好处；由于受到有偏见的妇女们的责备，他就说，“你们看波拿巴①吧，他就是他们的统帅，你们看他经常搞些什么名堂！”女仆认为他这话说得千真万确。
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①波拿巴：指拿破仑•波拿巴（NapoleonBonaparte，1769—1821年）：法国皇帝。
糕饼师傅在布鲁克街那间具有丧葬气氛的房间中辛勤工作着。两位身材很高的年轻人在专心致志地看着；其中的一位早已闻到了雪利酒的香味，他的眼睛有一种固定不动的倾向，在凝视着东西时却看不见它们；这位身材很高的年轻人承认他有这个弱点，并告诉他的同伴说，这是由于“心放”引起的；这位身材很高的年轻人本来是想说“兴奋”，可是他说得模糊不清。
打铃的人已打听到结婚的风声；卖肉的人和铜管乐器的吹奏乐队也一样。打铃的人正在巴特尔桥附近偏僻的地方练习；卖肉的人通过他们的头头和托林森先生建立了联系，跟他商议价钱，建议他向他们买肉；吹奏乐队由一个机灵的吹长号的人躲藏在角落里，暗中侦察，等待着向泄露秘密的商人行贿，从他们那里打听早餐的地点和时间。盼望和兴奋的情绪进一步扩展开来，波及到更广阔的范围。珀奇先生把珀奇太太从鲍尔斯池溏领来，准备和董贝先生的仆人们一起度过这一天，并和他们一道偷偷地观看婚礼。在图茨先生的住所，图茨先生把自己打扮得仿佛他至少是个新郎似的；他打定主意从教堂楼座的一个秘密角落里观看这个富丽豪华的场面，并把斗鸡带到那里去；因为图茨先生非常想把弗洛伦斯指点给斗鸡看，并坦率地对他说，“现在，斗鸡，我不打算再欺瞒你了；我好几次向你提到的朋友就是我自己；董贝小姐就是我的意中人；情况就是这样，斗鸡，你的看法怎么样？你现在有什么建议要立刻提出的吗？”这时候，这位将要大吃一惊的斗鸡正在图茨先生的厨房里把他的喙浸到一大杯烈性啤酒中，啄出两磅牛排。在公主广场，托克斯小姐已经起床，正在忙碌着；因为她虽然深深地感到痛苦，但也决定塞一个先令到米福太太手里，从一个离开众人的角落里看看这个对她具有残酷魔力的典礼。木制海军军官候补生的住所里是一片活跃的气氛。卡特尔船长穿着节日的短靴和大领子的衬衣，坐着吃早饭，一边听着磨工罗布按照他的嘱咐，事先向他念婚礼仪式，以便船长能完全理解他准备前去亲自观看的庄严场面；为了这个目的，船长不时指示他的牧师“转回去”或“这一节重来一遍”或把他自己分内的事情做好，阿门①留给他船长来喊。每当磨工罗布停歇的时候，他就响亮和满意地喊一声阿门。
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①阿门：基督教祈祷结尾语，意为：但愿如此。
除此之外，单就董贝先生的这条街来说，就有二十个年轻保姆答应二十个家庭的女孩子们，带领她们去看婚礼；这些女孩子们从睡在摇篮里的时候起，对结婚就本能地产生兴趣了。教区事务员桑兹先生在教堂台阶上让太阳晒着他肥胖的身躯，一边等待着结婚的时刻来到，说实在的，这时候他很有理由觉得他是在履行职务。有一个倒霉的矮女孩子抱了一个巨大的娃娃在教堂门廊里窥探的时候，米福太太向她扑过去，怒气冲冲地把她撵跑；说实在的，她这样做并不是没有道理的。
菲尼克斯表哥从国外特地回来参加这次婚礼。四十年以前，菲尼克斯表哥是在伦敦的俱乐部、剧场等处闲混日子的人，可是从身姿和态度来看，他现在仍显得十分年轻，装饰得又很雅致，所以一些跟他陌生的人在他阁下的脸上发现隐伏的皱纹和眼外角的鱼尾皱时都感到惊奇。当他走过房间的时候，人们初初一看，都不十分肯定他是不是很笔直地走向他想要去的地方。但是菲尼克斯表哥早上七点半左右起床的时候，跟打扮得漂漂亮亮的菲尼克斯表哥是完全不同的人；当他在拜德街朗旅馆中被修脸的时候，他的容貌看上去确实黯然失色，平庸无奇。
董贝先生从化妆室中走出来的时候，楼梯上的妇女们急忙逃避，从各个方向散开，裙子发出一阵沙沙的响声，只有珀奇太太一人除外。珀奇太太身上已经有喜（不过她经常是有喜的），手脚又不灵活，所以不得不面对着他；她行屈膝礼的时候，手忙脚乱，不知所措，真准备钻到地底下去。——愿老天爷给珀奇家里消灾除祸吧！董贝先生到客厅里，等待时间到来；董贝先生的新的蓝色的外套、淡黄色的裤子、淡紫色的背心全都是豪华的，屋子里的人们还交头接耳地说，董贝先生的头发已做成卷曲的了。
门敲了两下，通报少校来到。他的衣着也是豪华的，钮扣洞里还佩戴了一整株天竺葵，头发又紧又起微波地卷曲着，本地人很懂得这样做。
“董贝，”少校伸出双手，说道，“您好！”
“少校，”董贝先生说道，“您好！”
“真的，先生，”少校说道，“乔埃•白今天早上有这样心情，”这时他用力地敲打着胸脯，“今天早上他有这样的心情，先生，他妈的，董贝，他真有点想来个双婚，把那母亲娶过来。”
董贝先生微笑了一下，但即使对他来说，这微笑也是微弱的；因为董贝先生觉得他将跟那母亲结为亲戚，在这种情况下不应当拿她来开玩笑。
“董贝，”少校注意到这一点，说道，“我祝您幸福。我祝贺您，董贝。说实话，先生，今天您是全英国最使人妒嫉的人了。”
董贝先生又有限制地表示同意；因为他将把极大的荣誉授予一位女士；毫无疑问，她才是最使人妒嫉的人。
“至于伊迪丝•格兰杰，先生，”少校继续说道，“全欧洲的女人要是能占有伊迪丝•格兰杰的地位，没有一个不会不惜牺牲一切的——先生，您允许白格斯托克少校补充一句，没有一个不愿意不惜牺牲一切的——不仅不惜牺牲她的耳朵，而且也不惜牺牲她的耳环①。”
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①英文成语giveone’sears，意为不惜任何牺牲或不惜任何代价；直译为不惜牺牲自己的耳朵。狄更斯幽默地对这句成语作了引伸。
“谢谢您的一片好意，少校，”董贝先生说道。
“董贝，”少校回答道，“您知道这一点！让我们别来假正经。您知道这一点。您知道还是不知道，董贝？”少校几乎生气地说道。
“哦，真的，少校——”
“他妈的，先生，”少校紧紧追问道，“您知道这个事实还是不知道？董贝！老乔是不是您的朋友？我们相互之间的关系是不是亲密无间到可以允许一个人——一个直肠直肚的老约瑟夫•白，先生——痛痛快快地说出来；还是我要遵循常规旧矩，董贝，保持一定的距离，来一番虚礼客套？”
“我亲爱的白格斯托克少校，”董贝先生露出满意的神态，说道，“您很热情。”
“我的上帝，先生，”少校说道，“我是热情的。约瑟夫•白并不否认这一点，董贝。他是热情的。先生，今天这个日子把乔•白这衰老的、可恨的、疲劳不堪、虚弱残废的躯体中还剩余的一些诚挚的热情全都激发出来了。我要告诉您，董贝：在这样的时候，一个人必须把他心里的话和盘托出才好，要不然就干脆给他戴上个鼻笼好了；约瑟夫•白格斯托克当面对您说，就像他背着您在俱乐部里说的一样：如果谈的是保罗•董贝的话，他就永远也不会戴上鼻笼。唔，他妈的，先生，”少校极为坚决地结束说道，“您对这还有什么要说的？”
“少校，”董贝先生说道，“请您相信，我确实很感谢您。
我不打算抑制您这过于偏颇的友谊。”
“并不过于偏颇，先生！”急躁的少校喊道，“董贝，我否认这一点。”
“既然是这样，我就说是您的友谊吧，”董贝先生继续说道，“无论如何我得这么说。在现在这样的时刻，少校，我也不能忘记我是多么感谢您的友谊。”
“董贝，”少校作出适当的手势，说道，“这是约瑟夫•白格斯托克的手，直率的老乔埃•白的手，如果您更喜欢它的话！已故的约克郡公爵殿下曾使我感到无比光荣，他指着这只手向已故的肯特郡公爵殿下说，这是乔希的手，他是个粗暴的、坚强的，也许还是个精明的流浪汉。董贝，愿现在这个时刻是我们生活中最幸福的时刻。上帝保佑您！”
这时卡克先生进来了，衣着也是豪华的；他满脸笑容，真像是个参加婚礼的客人。他十分热烈地祝贺着，简直舍不得把董贝先生的手放下，同时他又亲热地握着少校的手；当他的从牙齿中间悄悄出来的时候，和手一齐颤抖着。
“连日子也是吉祥的，”卡克先生说道，“阳光明媚、温暖舒适的气候！我希望我没有迟到一秒钟吧！”
“来得很准时，先生，”少校说道。
“我真高兴，”卡克先生说道，“我担心我也许会比预定的时间晚到几秒钟，因为我被一队运货马车挡住了，我就冒昧地绕道骑到布鲁克街，”这些话是对董贝先生说的，“给董贝夫人送去一些名贵的花。一个处在我这种地位、光荣地被邀请到这里来的人，为了表示效忠，略表一点敬意，心中是感到自豪的。由于董贝夫人全身上下、四周一切全都是珍贵和华丽的物品，”这时他向他的恩人奇怪地看了一眼，“我希望正因为我的礼物非常微薄，它反倒会得到女主人的喜爱。”
“我相信，”董贝先生对下属表示恩情地说道，“未来的董贝夫人将会深感您的好意，卡克。”
“如果她今天早上就要成为董贝夫人的话，先生，”少校放下咖啡杯，看看手表，说道，“那么我们就该走了。”
董贝先生、白格斯托克少校和卡克先生乘坐一辆双马四轮大马车，出发前去教堂。教区事务员桑兹先生早就从台阶上站起身来，手中拿着三角帽等待着。米福太太行了屈膝礼，建议他们在祭服室坐一会儿。董贝先生宁愿留在教堂里。当他向上看着风琴的时候，楼座中的托克斯小姐就往后退缩；那里有一块纪念碑，上面有一个脸颊像年轻的风神一样的小天使，她就退缩到这个小天使的胖腿后面。与托克斯小姐相反，卡特尔船长站起来，挥舞着钩子表示欢迎与支持。图茨先生用手遮住嘴巴，告诉斗鸡，中间穿淡黄色裤子的先生就是他意中人的父亲。斗鸡用嘶哑的对图茨先生说，他从来没有见过这样生硬呆板的家伙，可是采用科学的方法，在他背心上猛打一下，就可以把他打得直不起腰来。
桑兹先生和米福太太从不远的地方注视着董贝先生的时候，听到了车轮到达的，桑兹先生就走出去了；楼上有一位放肆的疯子在向董贝先生彬彬有礼地行礼，董贝先生的眼光离开他的时候，米福太太碰上他的眼光，向他行了个屈膝礼，告诉他，她相信他的“好夫人”已经来了。这时候，人们在门口挤来挤去，并交头接耳，嘁嘁喳喳地说着话，那位好夫人则迈着傲慢的步子，走进了教堂。
昨夜的痛苦在她的脸上没有留下一丝痕迹；昨夜跪在地上，把狂怒的头美丽地、自暴自弃地安息在睡着的女孩子的枕头上的那个女人，在她现在的态度中没有留下半点踪影。那位女孩子十分温柔、十分可爱地挨在她身边，跟她本人蔑视一切、目中无人的姿态形成了鲜明的对照；她站在那里，镇静自若、挺然直立，心中的思想难以捉摸，那极为妩媚的风韵光辉而威严，但她却鄙弃地践踏着人们因此而产生的爱慕。
当教区事务员桑兹先生悄悄走到祭服室去请牧师和文书的时候，有一段停歇的时间。斯丘顿夫人在这时候跟董贝先生说话，比平时更清晰，也比平时更富于表情，在这同时她又走近伊迪丝。
“我亲爱的董贝，”这位好妈妈说道，“我担心我毕竟还得放弃可爱的弗洛伦斯，只好按她自己的建议，让她回家去了。我亲爱的董贝，在遭受今天的损失之后，我觉得我连陪伴她的精神也将没有了。”
“她跟您在一起不是更好吗？”新郎回答道。
“我不这么想，我亲爱的董贝。是的，我不这么想。我独自一人更好些。再说，当你们回来的时候，我亲爱的伊迪丝将会是她的天然的和忠诚的保护人；也许，我最好还是别侵犯她的权利；要不，她可能会妒嫉我的。是不是，亲爱的伊迪丝？”
慈爱的妈妈一边说，一边紧握着女儿的胳膊，也许是恳切地想要引起她的注意。
“这是当真的，我亲爱的董贝，”她继续说道，“我将放弃我们亲爱的孩子了；别让我的忧伤传给她。我们刚才已讲妥了。她完全理解，亲爱的董贝。伊迪丝，我亲爱的，——她完全理解。”
好妈妈又紧握着女儿的胳膊。董贝先生不再表示异议；因为教士和文书来了；米福太太，教区事务员桑兹先生向在场的人们指点她们在圣坛前各自的位置。
“谁把这位女子嫁给这位男子？”
菲尼克斯表哥。他是从巴登—巴登①特地为这个目的而来的。菲尼克斯表哥是一位温厚和蔼的人。“去它的！”菲尼克斯表哥说，“我们已把城里一位阔老•确•实弄到家里来了，让我们对他表示殷勤些吧；让我们为他做点事。”
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①巴登——巴登（Baden—Baden）：德国巴登—符腾堡（Baden—Würthemberg）州的一个城市，濒临奥斯（Oos）河；19世纪为欧洲贵族和上流社会的疗养胜地。
“•我把这位女子嫁给这位男子，”菲尼克斯表哥因此就这么说道。菲尼克斯表哥本想笔直走去，但由于他的腿不听话，走到了另一边，起初错把另一位女子“嫁给这位男子”，那是一位有相当身份的女傧相，是这家人的远亲，比斯丘顿夫人小十岁；但是米福太太用她的干瘪的帽子挡住，手脚麻俐地转过他的身子，好像他脚下生着轮子似地推着他，一直推到那位“好夫人”的面前，因此菲尼克斯表哥就把她嫁给这位男子。
他们是不是愿意在上天的眼前——？
是的，他们愿意：董贝先生说，他愿意。伊迪丝说什么呢？她愿意。
这样，他们就相互山盟海誓：从今以后，不论是幸福还是患难，不论是富贵还是贫贱，不论是健康还是生病，他们都将相亲相爱，直到死亡把他们分开为止。他们就这样结了婚。
当他们走进祭服室的时候，新娘用遒劲、潇洒的书法在登记本上签上名。“到这里来的夫人们很少能像这位好夫人这样签名的。”米福太太行了个屈膝礼，说道。——这时候看一下米福太太，就是看她把干瘪的帽子往液中浸一下。教区事务员桑兹先生认为这确实是顶呱呱的签名，和签名的人十分相配。——不过，他把这看法留在自己心里。
弗洛伦斯也签了名，但没有受到称赞，因为她的手是颤抖的。所有的人都签了名；菲尼克斯表哥是最后一位，他把他高贵的姓名签错了地方，仿佛他是在这天早上出生似的。
这时少校十分殷勤地吻了新娘，表示敬意，并把军事上那条各个击破的策略应用到所有的女士们身上；虽然斯丘顿夫人特别难吻，而且还在这神圣的殿堂中尖声叫着。菲尼克斯表哥，甚至连董贝先生也仿效了这个榜样。最后，卡克先生露出闪闪发光的白牙齿，走近伊迪丝，仿佛他打算去咬她，而不是去尝一尝她唇上的甜味似的。
在她高傲的脸颊上泛上一阵红晕，在她的眼睛中闪出一道亮光，可能是想阻止他，但却没有阻止，因为他像其他的人一样吻了她，表示敬意，并向她祝福。
“如果在这样的结合中祝愿不是多余的话，”他低声说道。
“谢谢您，先生，”她轻蔑、厌恶地歪着嘴唇，胸脯上下起伏地回答道。
但是，伊迪丝是不是像她知道董贝先生第二天将前来求婚的那天晚上一样，仍然感到卡克先生彻底地了解她，深切地看透她呢？是不是她觉得他了解她比他不了解她更使她感到屈辱呢？是不是正是由于这个原因，在他的微笑下她的傲慢就像雪在紧握着的手中一样融解了？她的目空一切的眼光一碰上他的眼光就赶快避开，低垂到地上了呢？
“我自豪地看到，”卡克先生奴颜婢膝地低垂着头，说道；在这同时他的眼睛和牙齿又显露出，这种奴颜婢膝完全是虚伪的，“我自豪地看到，在这欢乐的日子，在这神圣的地方，我的微薄的礼物光荣地被董贝夫人拿在手中。”
她虽然低下头，作为回答，但她的手在一刹那间似乎动了动，仿佛她想把手中的花揉得粉碎并轻蔑地抛掷在地上似的；但是她把手伸进她的新的丈夫（他一直站在旁边，和少校谈着话）的胳膊中，又傲视一切，一动不动和沉默不语。
马车又停立在教堂门口。董贝先生挽着新娘的胳膊，穿过了台阶上二十个家庭的小女人们；她们每个人都记住她每件衣服的式样和颜色，并给她们的永远在不断结婚的女玩偶照样做一件。克利奥佩特拉和菲尼克斯表哥进了同一辆马车。少校把弗洛伦斯和那位险些被错当成新娘的女傧相搀扶进第二辆马车，然后他自己进去，随后进来的是卡克先生。马奔腾着前进；马夫和仆役们炫耀着飘动的饰带、花朵和新做的制服。车声辚辚，他们从街道上疾驰而过；当他们经过的时候，成千个头都转过去望着他们，成千个稳重的道学家们由于没能也在这天上午结婚，只好自我安慰地想到，这些人很少想过这种幸福是不能持久的。
当一切都已寂静下来的时候，托克斯小姐从小天使的腿后露出身来，慢吞吞地从楼座上走下来。托克斯小姐的眼睛红了，她的手绢湿了。她的心灵受到了创伤，但她并没有生气；她希望他们将会幸福。她完全承认新娘姿色美丽，而她自己的容颜则相形见绌，缺少魅力；但是董贝先生穿着淡紫色的背心和淡黄色的裤子时那仪表堂堂的形象浮现在她的心头，托克斯小姐在回到公主广场的路途中，在面纱下又重新哭泣起来。卡特尔船长怀着虔诚的心情，用高吼的喊了所有的阿门和应唱圣歌之后，觉得宗教的练习使他得到很大好处。他手中拿着上了光的帽子，心情平静地在教堂四处走着，并朗读了纪念小保罗的墓碑。殷勤的图茨先生怀着爱情的痛苦，由忠实的斗鸡陪伴着，离开了教堂。斗鸡还想不出赢得弗洛伦斯的计策，但他最初的想法还在他脑子里盘旋着，他认为使董贝先生直不起腰来是走向这一方向的正确的一步。董贝先生的仆人们从他们躲藏的角落里跑出来，准备匆匆忙忙地赶到布鲁克街去，但珀奇太太身体有些不舒服
Chapter 32
The Wooden Midshipman goes to Pieces
Honest Captain Cuttle, as the weeks flew over him in his fortified retreat, by no means abated any of his prudent provisions against surprise, because of the non-appearance of the enemy. The Captain argued that his present security was too profound and wonderful to endure much longer; he knew that when the wind stood in a fair quarter, the weathercock was seldom nailed there; and he was too well acquainted with the determined and dauntless character of Mrs MacStinger, to doubt that that heroic woman had devoted herself to the task of his discovery and capture. Trembling beneath the weight of these reasons, Captain Cuttle lived a very close and retired life; seldom stirring abroad until after dark; venturing even then only into the obscurest streets; never going forth at all on Sundays; and both within and without the walls of his retreat, avoiding bonnets, as if they were worn by raging lions.
The Captain never dreamed that in the event of his being pounced upon by Mrs MacStinger, in his walks, it would be possible to offer resistance. He felt that it could not be done. He saw himself, in his mind's eye, put meekly in a hackney-coach, and carried off to his old lodgings. He foresaw that, once immured there, he was a lost man: his hat gone; Mrs MacStinger watchful of him day and night; reproaches heaped upon his head, before the infant family; himself the guilty object of suspicion and distrust; an ogre in the children's eyes, and in their mother's a detected traitor.
A violent perspiration, and a lowness of spirits, always came over the Captain as this gloomy picture presented itself to his imagination. It generally did so previous to his stealing out of doors at night for air and exercise. Sensible of the risk he ran, the Captain took leave of Rob, at those times, with the solemnity which became a man who might never return: exhorting him, in the event of his (the Captain's) being lost sight of, for a time, to tread in the paths of virtue, and keep the brazen instruments well polished.
But not to throw away a chance; and to secure to himself a means, in case of the worst, of holding communication with the external world; Captain Cuttle soon conceived the happy idea of teaching Rob the Grinder some secret signal, by which that adherent might make his presence and fidelity known to his commander, in the hour of adversity. After much cogitation, the Captain decided in favour of instructing him to whistle the marine melody, 'Oh cheerily, cheerily!' and Rob the Grinder attaining a point as near perfection in that accomplishment as a landsman could hope to reach, the Captain impressed these mysterious instructions on his mind:
'Now, my lad, stand by! If ever I'm took - '
'Took, Captain!' interposed Rob, with his round eyes wide open.
'Ah!' said Captain Cuttle darkly, 'if ever I goes away, meaning to come back to supper, and don't come within hail again, twenty-four hours arter my loss, go you to Brig Place and whistle that 'ere tune near my old moorings - not as if you was a meaning of it, you understand, but as if you'd drifted there, promiscuous. If I answer in that tune, you sheer off, my lad, and come back four-and-twenty hours arterwards; if I answer in another tune, do you stand off and on, and wait till I throw out further signals. Do you understand them orders, now?'
'What am I to stand off and on of, Captain?' inquired Rob. 'The horse-road?'
'Here's a smart lad for you!' cried the Captain eyeing him sternly, 'as don't know his own native alphabet! Go away a bit and come back again alternate - d'ye understand that?'
'Yes, Captain,' said Rob.
'Very good my lad, then,' said the Captain, relenting. 'Do it!'
That he might do it the better, Captain Cuttle sometimes condescended, of an evening after the shop was shut, to rehearse this scene: retiring into the parlour for the purpose, as into the lodgings of a supposititious MacStinger, and carefully observing the behaviour of his ally, from the hole of espial he had cut in the wall. Rob the Grinder discharged himself of his duty with so much exactness and judgment, when thus put to the proof, that the Captain presented him, at divers times, with seven sixpences, in token of satisfaction; and gradually felt stealing over his spirit the resignation of a man who had made provision for the worst, and taken every reasonable precaution against an unrelenting fate.
Nevertheless, the Captain did not tempt ill-fortune, by being a whit more venturesome than before. Though he considered it a point of good breeding in himself, as a general friend of the family, to attend Mr Dombey's wedding (of which he had heard from Mr Perch), and to show that gentleman a pleasant and approving countenance from the gallery, he had repaired to the church in a hackney cabriolet with both windows up; and might have scrupled even to make that venture, in his dread of Mrs MacStinger, but that the lady's attendance on the ministry of the Reverend Melchisedech rendered it peculiarly unlikely that she would be found in communion with the Establishment.
The Captain got safe home again, and fell into the ordinary routine of his new life, without encountering any more direct alarm from the enemy, than was suggested to him by the daily bonnets in the street. But other subjects began to lay heavy on the Captain's mind. Walter's ship was still unheard of. No news came of old Sol Gills. Florence did not even know of the old man's disappearance, and Captain Cuttle had not the heart to tell her. Indeed the Captain, as his own hopes of the generous, handsome, gallant-hearted youth, whom he had loved, according to his rough manner, from a child, began to fade, and faded more and more from day to day, shrunk with instinctive pain from the thought of exchanging a word with Florence. If he had had good news to carry to her, the honest Captain would have braved the newly decorated house and splendid furniture - though these, connected with the lady he had seen at church, were awful to him - and made his way into her presence. With a dark horizon gathering around their common hopes, however, that darkened every hour, the Captain almost felt as if he were a new misfortune and affliction to her; and was scarcely less afraid of a visit from Florence, than from Mrs MacStinger herself.
It was a chill dark autumn evening, and Captain Cuttle had ordered a fire to be kindled in the little back parlour, now more than ever like the cabin of a ship. The rain fell fast, and the wind blew hard; and straying out on the house-top by that stormy bedroom of his old friend, to take an observation of the weather, the Captain's heart died within him, when he saw how wild and desolate it was. Not that he associated the weather of that time with poor Walter's destiny, or doubted that if Providence had doomed him to be lost and shipwrecked, it was over, long ago; but that beneath an outward influence, quite distinct from the subject-matter of his thoughts, the Captain's spirits sank, and his hopes turned pale, as those of wiser men had often done before him, and will often do again.
Captain Cuttle, addressing his face to the sharp wind and slanting rain, looked up at the heavy scud that was flying fast over the wilderness of house-tops, and looked for something cheery there in vain. The prospect near at hand was no better. In sundry tea-chests and other rough boxes at his feet, the pigeons of Rob the Grinder were cooing like so many dismal breezes getting up. A crazy weathercock of a midshipman, with a telescope at his eye, once visible from the street, but long bricked out, creaked and complained upon his rusty pivot as the shrill blast spun him round and round, and sported with him cruelly. Upon the Captain's coarse blue vest the cold raindrops started like steel beads; and he could hardly maintain himself aslant against the stiff Nor'-Wester that came pressing against him, importunate to topple him over the parapet, and throw him on the pavement below. If there were any Hope alive that evening, the Captain thought, as he held his hat on, it certainly kept house, and wasn't out of doors; so the Captain, shaking his head in a despondent manner, went in to look for it.
Captain Cuttle descended slowly to the little back parlour, and, seated in his accustomed chair, looked for it in the fire; but it was not there, though the fire was bright. He took out his tobacco-box and pipe, and composing himself to smoke, looked for it in the red glow from the bowl, and in the wreaths of vapour that curled upward from his lips; but there was not so much as an atom of the rust of Hope's anchor in either. He tried a glass of grog; but melancholy truth was at the bottom of that well, and he couldn't finish it. He made a turn or two in the shop, and looked for Hope among the instruments; but they obstinately worked out reckonings for the missing ship, in spite of any opposition he could offer, that ended at the bottom of the lone sea.
The wind still rushing, and the rain still pattering, against the closed shutters, the Captain brought to before the wooden Midshipman upon the counter, and thought, as he dried the little officer's uniform with his sleeve, how many years the Midshipman had seen, during which few changes - hardly any - had transpired among his ship's company; how the changes had come all together, one day, as it might be; and of what a sweeping kind they web Here was the little society of the back parlour broken up, and scattered far and wide. Here was no audience for Lovely Peg, even if there had been anybody to sing it, which there was not; for the Captain was as morally certain that nobody but he could execute that ballad, he was that he had not the spirit, under existing circumstances, to attempt it. There was no bright face of 'Wal'r' In the house; - here the Captain transferred his sleeve for a moment from the Midshipman's uniform to his own cheek; - the familiar wig and buttons of Sol Gills were a vision of the past; Richard Whittington was knocked on the head; and every plan and project in connexion with the Midshipman, lay drifting, without mast or rudder, on the waste of waters.
As the Captain, with a dejected face, stood revolving these thoughts, and polishing the Midshipman, partly in the tenderness of old acquaintance, and partly in the absence of his mind, a knocking at the shop-door communicated a frightful start to the frame of Rob the Grinder, seated on the counter, whose large eyes had been intently fixed on the Captain's face, and who had been debating within himself, for the five hundredth time, whether the Captain could have done a murder, that he had such an evil conscience, and was always running away.
'What's that?' said Captain Cuttle, softly.
'Somebody's knuckles, Captain,' answered Rob the Grinder.
The Captain, with an abashed and guilty air, immediately walked on tiptoe to the little parlour and locked himself in. Rob, opening the door, would have parleyed with the visitor on the threshold if the visitor had come in female guise; but the figure being of the male sex, and Rob's orders only applying to women, Rob held the door open and allowed it to enter: which it did very quickly, glad to get out of the driving rain.
'A job for Burgess and Co. at any rate,' said the visitor, looking over his shoulder compassionately at his own legs, which were very wet and covered with splashes. 'Oh, how-de-do, Mr Gills?'
The salutation was addressed to the Captain, now emerging from the back parlour with a most transparent and utterly futile affectation of coming out by accidence.
'Thankee,' the gentleman went on to say in the same breath; 'I'm very well indeed, myself, I'm much obliged to you. My name is Toots, - Mister Toots.'
The Captain remembered to have seen this young gentleman at the wedding, and made him a bow. Mr Toots replied with a chuckle; and being embarrassed, as he generally was, breathed hard, shook hands with the Captain for a long time, and then falling on Rob the Grinder, in the absence of any other resource, shook hands with him in a most affectionate and cordial manner.
'I say! I should like to speak a word to you, Mr Gills, if you please,' said Toots at length, with surprising presence of mind. 'I say! Miss D.O.M. you know!'
The Captain, with responsive gravity and mystery, immediately waved his hook towards the little parlour, whither Mr Toots followed him.
'Oh! I beg your pardon though,' said Mr Toots, looking up In the Captain's face as he sat down in a chair by the fire, which the Captain placed for him; 'you don't happen to know the Chicken at all; do you, Mr Gills?'
'The Chicken?' said the Captain.
'The Game Chicken,' said Mr Toots.
The Captain shaking his head, Mr Toots explained that the man alluded to was the celebrated public character who had covered himself and his country with glory in his contest with the Nobby Shropshire One; but this piece of information did not appear to enlighten the Captain very much.
'Because he's outside: that's all,' said Mr Toots. 'But it's of no consequence; he won't get very wet, perhaps.'
'I can pass the word for him in a moment,' said the Captain.
'Well, if you would have the goodness to let him sit in the shop with your young man,' chuckled Mr Toots, 'I should be glad; because, you know, he's easily offended, and the damp's rather bad for his stamina. I'll call him in, Mr Gills.'
With that, Mr Toots repairing to the shop-door, sent a peculiar whistle into the night, which produced a stoical gentleman in a shaggy white great-coat and a flat-brimmed hat, with very short hair, a broken nose, and a considerable tract of bare and sterile country behind each ear.
'Sit down, Chicken,' said Mr Toots.
The compliant Chicken spat out some small pieces of straw on which he was regaling himself, and took in a fresh supply from a reserve he carried in his hand.
'There ain't no drain of nothing short handy, is there?' said the Chicken, generally. 'This here sluicing night is hard lines to a man as lives on his condition.
Captain Cuttle proffered a glass of rum, which the Chicken, throwing back his head, emptied into himself, as into a cask, after proposing the brief sentiment, 'Towards us!' Mr Toots and the Captain returning then to the parlour, and taking their seats before the fire, Mr Toots began:
'Mr Gills - '
'Awast!' said the Captain. 'My name's Cuttle.'
Mr Toots looked greatly disconcerted, while the Captain proceeded gravely.
'Cap'en Cuttle is my name, and England is my nation, this here is my dwelling-place, and blessed be creation - Job,' said the Captain, as an index to his authority.
'Oh! I couldn't see Mr Gills, could I?' said Mr Toots; 'because - '
'If you could see Sol Gills, young gen'l'm'n,' said the Captain, impressively, and laying his heavy hand on Mr Toots's knee, 'old Sol, mind you - with your own eyes - as you sit there - you'd be welcomer to me, than a wind astern, to a ship becalmed. But you can't see Sol Gills. And why can't you see Sol Gills?' said the Captain, apprised by the face of Mr Toots that he was making a profound impression on that gentleman's mind. 'Because he's inwisible.'
Mr Toots in his agitation was going to reply that it was of no consequence at all. But he corrected himself, and said, 'Lor bless me!'
'That there man,' said the Captain, 'has left me in charge here by a piece of writing, but though he was a'most as good as my sworn brother, I know no more where he's gone, or why he's gone; if so be to seek his nevy, or if so be along of being not quite settled in his mind; than you do. One morning at daybreak, he went over the side,' said the Captain, 'without a splash, without a ripple I have looked for that man high and low, and never set eyes, nor ears, nor nothing else, upon him from that hour.'
'But, good Gracious, Miss Dombey don't know - ' Mr Toots began.
'Why, I ask you, as a feeling heart,' said the Captain, dropping his voice, 'why should she know? why should she be made to know, until such time as there wam't any help for it? She took to old Sol Gills, did that sweet creetur, with a kindness, with a affability, with a - what's the good of saying so? you know her.'
'I should hope so,' chuckled Mr Toots, with a conscious blush that suffused his whole countenance.
'And you come here from her?' said the Captain.
'I should think so,' chuckled Mr Toots.
'Then all I need observe, is,' said the Captain, 'that you know a angel, and are chartered a angel.'
Mr Toots instantly seized the Captain's hand, and requested the favour of his friendship.
'Upon my word and honour,' said Mr Toots, earnestly, 'I should be very much obliged to you if you'd improve my acquaintance I should like to know you, Captain, very much. I really am In want of a friend, I am. Little Dombey was my friend at old Blimber's, and would have been now, if he'd have lived. The Chicken,' said Mr Toots, in a forlorn whisper, 'is very well - admirable in his way - the sharpest man perhaps in the world; there's not a move he isn't up to, everybody says so - but I don't know - he's not everything. So she is an angel, Captain. If there is an angel anywhere, it's Miss Dombey. That's what I've always said. Really though, you know,' said Mr Toots, 'I should be very much obliged to you if you'd cultivate my acquaintance.'
Captain Cuttle received this proposal in a polite manner, but still without committing himself to its acceptance; merely observing, 'Ay, ay, my lad. We shall see, we shall see;' and reminding Mr Toots of his immediate mission, by inquiring to what he was indebted for the honour of that visit.
'Why the fact is,' replied Mr Toots, 'that it's the young woman I come from. Not Miss Dombey - Susan, you know.
The Captain nodded his head once, with a grave expression of face indicative of his regarding that young woman with serious respect.
'And I'll tell you how it happens,' said Mr Toots. 'You know, I go and call sometimes, on Miss Dombey. I don't go there on purpose, you know, but I happen to be in the neighbourhood very often; and when I find myself there, why - why I call.'
'Nat'rally,' observed the Captain.
'Yes,' said Mr Toots. 'I called this afternoon. Upon my word and honour, I don't think it's possible to form an idea of the angel Miss Dombey was this afternoon.'
The Captain answered with a jerk of his head, implying that it might not be easy to some people, but was quite so to him.
'As I was coming out,' said Mr Toots, 'the young woman, in the most unexpected manner, took me into the pantry.
The Captain seemed, for the moment, to object to this proceeding; and leaning back in his chair, looked at Mr Toots with a distrustful, if not threatening visage.
'Where she brought out,' said Mr Toots, 'this newspaper. She told me that she had kept it from Miss Dombey all day, on account of something that was in it, about somebody that she and Dombey used to know; and then she read the passage to me. Very well. Then she said - wait a minute; what was it she said, though!'
Mr Toots, endeavouring to concentrate his mental powers on this question, unintentionally fixed the Captain's eye, and was so much discomposed by its stern expression, that his difficulty in resuming the thread of his subject was enhanced to a painful extent.
'Oh!' said Mr Toots after long consideration. 'Oh, ah! Yes! She said that she hoped there was a bare possibility that it mightn't be true; and that as she couldn't very well come out herself, without surprising Miss Dombey, would I go down to Mr Solomon Gills the Instrument-maker's in this street, who was the party's Uncle, and ask whether he believed it was true, or had heard anything else in the City. She said, if he couldn't speak to me, no doubt Captain Cuttle could. By the bye!' said Mr Toots, as the discovery flashed upon him, 'you, you know!'
The Captain glanced at the newspaper in Mr Toots's hand, and breathed short and hurriedly.
'Well, pursued Mr Toots, 'the reason why I'm rather late is, because I went up as far as Finchley first, to get some uncommonly fine chickweed that grows there, for Miss Dombey's bird. But I came on here, directly afterwards. You've seen the paper, I suppose?'
The Captain, who had become cautious of reading the news, lest he should find himself advertised at full length by Mrs MacStinger, shook his head.
'Shall I read the passage to you?' inquired Mr Toots.
The Captain making a sign in the affirmative, Mr Toots read as follows, from the Shipping Intelligence:
'"Southampton. The barque Defiance, Henry James, Commander, arrived in this port to-day, with a cargo of sugar, coffee, and rum, reports that being becalmed on the sixth day of her passage home from Jamaica, in" - in such and such a latitude, you know,' said Mr Toots, after making a feeble dash at the figures, and tumbling over them.
'Ay!' cried the Captain, striking his clenched hand on the table. 'Heave ahead, my lad!'
' - latitude,' repeated Mr Toots, with a startled glance at the Captain, 'and longitude so-and-so, - "the look-out observed, half an hour before sunset, some fragments of a wreck, drifting at about the distance of a mile. The weather being clear, and the barque making no way, a boat was hoisted out, with orders to inspect the same, when they were found to consist of sundry large spars, and a part of the main rigging of an English brig, of about five hundred tons burden, together with a portion of the stem on which the words and letters 'Son and H-' were yet plainly legible. No vestige of any dead body was to be seen upon the floating fragments. Log of the Defiance states, that a breeze springing up in the night, the wreck was seen no more. There can be no doubt that all surmises as to the fate of the missing vessel, the Son and Heir, port of London, bound for Barbados, are now set at rest for ever; that she broke up in the last hurricane; and that every soul on board perished."'
Captain Cuttle, like all mankind, little knew how much hope had survived within him under discouragement, until he felt its death-shock. During the reading of the paragraph, and for a minute or two afterwards, he sat with his gaze fixed on the modest Mr Toots, like a man entranced; then, suddenly rising, and putting on his glazed hat, which, in his visitor's honour, he had laid upon the table, the Captain turned his back, and bent his head down on the little chimneypiece.
'Oh' upon my word and honour,' cried Mr Toots, whose tender heart was moved by the Captain's unexpected distress, 'this is a most wretched sort of affair this world is! Somebody's always dying, or going and doing something uncomfortable in it. I'm sure I never should have looked forward so much, to coming into my property, if I had known this. I never saw such a world. It's a great deal worse than Blimber's.'
Captain Cuttle, without altering his position, signed to Mr Toots not to mind him; and presently turned round, with his glazed hat thrust back upon his ears, and his hand composing and smoothing his brown face.
'Wal'r, my dear lad,' said the Captain, 'farewell! Wal'r my child, my boy, and man, I loved you! He warn't my flesh and blood,' said the Captain, looking at the fire - 'I ain't got none - but something of what a father feels when he loses a son, I feel in losing Wal'r. For why?' said the Captain. 'Because it ain't one loss, but a round dozen. Where's that there young school-boy with the rosy face and curly hair, that used to be as merry in this here parlour, come round every week, as a piece of music? Gone down with Wal'r. Where's that there fresh lad, that nothing couldn't tire nor put out, and that sparkled up and blushed so, when we joked him about Heart's Delight, that he was beautiful to look at? Gone down with Wal'r. Where's that there man's spirit, all afire, that wouldn't see the old man hove down for a minute, and cared nothing for itself? Gone down with Wal'r. It ain't one Wal'r. There was a dozen Wal'rs that I know'd and loved, all holding round his neck when he went down, and they're a-holding round mine now!'
Mr Toots sat silent: folding and refolding the newspaper as small as possible upon his knee.
'And Sol Gills,' said the Captain, gazing at the fire, 'poor nevyless old Sol, where are you got to! you was left in charge of me; his last words was, "Take care of my Uncle!" What came over you, Sol, when you went and gave the go-bye to Ned Cuttle; and what am I to put In my accounts that he's a looking down upon, respecting you! Sol Gills, Sol Gills!' said the Captain, shaking his head slowly, 'catch sight of that there newspaper, away from home, with no one as know'd Wal'r by, to say a word; and broadside to you broach, and down you pitch, head foremost!'
Drawing a heavy sigh, the Captain turned to Mr Toots, and roused himself to a sustained consciousness of that gentleman's presence.
'My lad,' said the Captain, 'you must tell the young woman honestly that this here fatal news is too correct. They don't romance, you see, on such pints. It's entered on the ship's log, and that's the truest book as a man can write. To-morrow morning,' said the Captain, 'I'll step out and make inquiries; but they'll lead to no good. They can't do it. If you'll give me a look-in in the forenoon, you shall know what I have heerd; but tell the young woman from Cap'en Cuttle, that it's over. Over!' And the Captain, hooking off his glazed hat, pulled his handkerchief out of the crown, wiped his grizzled head despairingly, and tossed the handkerchief in again, with the indifference of deep dejection.
'Oh! I assure you,' said Mr Toots, 'really I am dreadfully sorry. Upon my word I am, though I wasn't acquainted with the party. Do you think Miss Dombey will be very much affected, Captain Gills - I mean Mr Cuttle?'
'Why, Lord love you,' returned the Captain, with something of compassion for Mr Toots's innocence. When she warn't no higher than that, they were as fond of one another as two young doves.'
'Were they though!' said Mr Toots, with a considerably lengthened face.
'They were made for one another,' said the Captain, mournfully; 'but what signifies that now!'
'Upon my word and honour,' cried Mr Toots, blurting out his words through a singular combination of awkward chuckles and emotion, 'I'm even more sorry than I was before. You know, Captain Gills, I - I positively adore Miss Dombey; - I - I am perfectly sore with loving her;' the burst with which this confession forced itself out of the unhappy Mr Toots, bespoke the vehemence of his feelings; 'but what would be the good of my regarding her in this manner, if I wasn't truly sorry for her feeling pain, whatever was the cause of it. Mine ain't a selfish affection, you know,' said Mr Toots, in the confidence engendered by his having been a witness of the Captain's tenderness. 'It's the sort of thing with me, Captain Gills, that if I could be run over - or - or trampled upon - or - or thrown off a very high place -or anything of that sort - for Miss Dombey's sake, it would be the most delightful thing that could happen to me.
All this, Mr Toots said in a suppressed voice, to prevent its reaching the jealous ears of the Chicken, who objected to the softer emotions; which effort of restraint, coupled with the intensity of his feelings, made him red to the tips of his ears, and caused him to present such an affecting spectacle of disinterested love to the eyes of Captain Cuttle, that the good Captain patted him consolingly on the back, and bade him cheer up.
'Thankee, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, 'it's kind of you, in the midst of your own troubles, to say so. I'm very much obliged to you. As I said before, I really want a friend, and should be glad to have your acquaintance. Although I am very well off,' said Mr Toots, with energy, 'you can't think what a miserable Beast I am. The hollow crowd, you know, when they see me with the Chicken, and characters of distinction like that, suppose me to be happy; but I'm wretched. I suffer for Miss Dombey, Captain Gills. I can't get through my meals; I have no pleasure in my tailor; I often cry when I'm alone. I assure you it'll be a satisfaction to me to come back to-morrow, or to come back fifty times.'
Mr Toots, with these words, shook the Captain's hand; and disguising such traces of his agitation as could be disguised on so short a notice, before the Chicken's penetrating glance, rejoined that eminent gentleman in the shop. The Chicken, who was apt to be jealous of his ascendancy, eyed Captain Cuttle with anything but favour as he took leave of Mr Toots, but followed his patron without being otherwise demonstrative of his ill-will: leaving the Captain oppressed with sorrow; and Rob the Grinder elevated with joy, on account of having had the honour of staring for nearly half an hour at the conqueror of the Nobby Shropshire One.
Long after Rob was fast asleep in his bed under the counter, the Captain sat looking at the fire; and long after there was no fire to look at, the Captain sat gazing on the rusty bars, with unavailing thoughts of Walter and old Sol crowding through his mind. Retirement to the stormy chamber at the top of the house brought no rest with it; and the Captain rose up in the morning, sorrowful and unrefreshed.
As soon as the City offices were opened, the Captain issued forth to the counting-house of Dombey and Son. But there was no opening of the Midshipman's windows that morning. Rob the Grinder, by the Captain's orders, left the shutters closed, and the house was as a house of death.
It chanced that Mr Carker was entering the office, as Captain Cuttle arrived at the door. Receiving the Manager's benison gravely and silently, Captain Cuttle made bold to accompany him into his own room.
'Well, Captain Cuttle,' said Mr Carker, taking up his usual position before the fireplace, and keeping on his hat, 'this is a bad business.'
'You have received the news as was in print yesterday, Sir?' said the Captain.
'Yes,' said Mr Carker, 'we have received it! It was accurately stated. The underwriters suffer a considerable loss. We are very sorry. No help! Such is life!'
Mr Carker pared his nails delicately with a penknife, and smiled at the Captain, who was standing by the door looking at him.
'I excessively regret poor Gay,' said Carker, 'and the crew. I understand there were some of our very best men among 'em. It always happens so. Many men with families too. A comfort to reflect that poor Gay had no family, Captain Cuttle!'
The Captain stood rubbing his chin, and looking at the Manager. The Manager glanced at the unopened letters lying on his desk, and took up the newspaper.
'Is there anything I can do for you, Captain Cuttle?' he asked looking off it, with a smiling and expressive glance at the door.
'I wish you could set my mind at rest, Sir, on something it's uneasy about,' returned the Captain.
'Ay!' exclaimed the Manager, 'what's that? Come, Captain Cuttle, I must trouble you to be quick, if you please. I am much engaged.'
'Lookee here, Sir,' said the Captain, advancing a step. 'Afore my friend Wal'r went on this here disastrous voyage -
'Come, come, Captain Cuttle,' interposed the smiling Manager, 'don't talk about disastrous voyages in that way. We have nothing to do with disastrous voyages here, my good fellow. You must have begun very early on your day's allowance, Captain, if you don't remember that there are hazards in all voyages, whether by sea or land. You are not made uneasy by the supposition that young what's-his-name was lost in bad weather that was got up against him in these offices - are you? Fie, Captain! Sleep, and soda-water, are the best cures for such uneasiness as that.
'My lad,' returned the Captain, slowly - 'you are a'most a lad to me, and so I don't ask your pardon for that slip of a word, - if you find any pleasure in this here sport, you ain't the gentleman I took you for. And if you ain't the gentleman I took you for, may be my mind has call to be uneasy. Now this is what it is, Mr Carker. - Afore that poor lad went away, according to orders, he told me that he warn't a going away for his own good, or for promotion, he know'd. It was my belief that he was wrong, and I told him so, and I come here, your head governor being absent, to ask a question or two of you in a civil way, for my own satisfaction. Them questions you answered - free. Now it'll ease my mind to know, when all is over, as it is, and when what can't be cured must be endoored - for which, as a scholar, you'll overhaul the book it's in, and thereof make a note - to know once more, in a word, that I warn't mistaken; that I warn't back'ard in my duty when I didn't tell the old man what Wal'r told me; and that the wind was truly in his sail, when he highsted of it for Barbados Harbour. Mr Carker,' said the Captain, in the goodness of his nature, 'when I was here last, we was very pleasant together. If I ain't been altogether so pleasant myself this morning, on account of this poor lad, and if I have chafed again any observation of yours that I might have fended off, my name is Ed'ard Cuttle, and I ask your pardon.'
'Captain Cuttle,' returned the Manager, with all possible politeness, 'I must ask you to do me a favour.'
'And what is it, Sir?' inquired the Captain.
'To have the goodness to walk off, if you please,' rejoined the Manager, stretching forth his arm, 'and to carry your jargon somewhere else.'
Every knob in the Captain's face turned white with astonishment and indignation; even the red rim on his forehead faded, like a rainbow among the gathering clouds.
'I tell you what, Captain Cuttle,' said the Manager, shaking his forefinger at him, and showing him all his teeth, but still amiably smiling, 'I was much too lenient with you when you came here before. You belong to an artful and audacious set of people. In my desire to save young what's-his-name from being kicked out of this place, neck and crop, my good Captain, I tolerated you; but for once, and only once. Now, go, my friend!'
The Captain was absolutely rooted to the ground, and speechless -
'Go,' said the good-humoured Manager, gathering up his skirts, and standing astride upon the hearth-rug, 'like a sensible fellow, and let us have no turning out, or any such violent measures. If Mr Dombey were here, Captain, you might be obliged to leave in a more ignominious manner, possibly. I merely say, Go!'
The Captain, laying his ponderous hand upon his chest, to assist himself in fetching a deep breath, looked at Mr Carker from head to foot, and looked round the little room, as if he did not clearly understand where he was, or in what company.
'You are deep, Captain Cuttle,' pursued Carker, with the easy and vivacious frankness of a man of the world who knew the world too well to be ruffled by any discovery of misdoing, when it did not immediately concern himself, 'but you are not quite out of soundings, either - neither you nor your absent friend, Captain. What have you done with your absent friend, hey?'
Again the Captain laid his hand upon his chest. After drawing another deep breath, he conjured himself to 'stand by!' But In a whisper.
'You hatch nice little plots, and hold nice little councils, and make nice little appointments, and receive nice little visitors, too, Captain, hey?' said Carker, bending his brows upon him, without showing his teeth any the less: 'but it's a bold measure to come here afterwards. Not like your discretion! You conspirators, and hiders, and runners-away, should know better than that. Will you oblige me by going?'
'My lad,' gasped the Captain, in a choked and trembling voice, and with a curious action going on in the ponderous fist; 'there's a many words I could wish to say to you, but I don't rightly know where they're stowed just at present. My young friend, Wal'r, was drownded only last night, according to my reckoning, and it puts me out, you see. But you and me will come alongside o'one another again, my lad,' said the Captain, holding up his hook, if we live.'
'It will be anything but shrewd in you, my good fellow, if we do,' returned the Manager, with the same frankness; 'for you may rely, I give you fair warning, upon my detecting and exposing you. I don't pretend to be a more moral man than my neighbours, my good Captain; but the confidence of this House, or of any member of this House, is not to be abused and undermined while I have eyes and ears. Good day!' said Mr Carker, nodding his head.
Captain Cuttle, looking at him steadily (Mr Carker looked full as steadily at the Captain), went out of the office and left him standing astride before the fire, as calm and pleasant as if there were no more spots upon his soul than on his pure white linen, and his smooth sleek skin.
The Captain glanced, in passing through the outer counting-house, at the desk where he knew poor Walter had been used to sit, now occupied by another young boy, with a face almost as fresh and hopeful as his on the day when they tapped the famous last bottle but one of the old Madeira, in the little back parlour. The nation of ideas, thus awakened, did the Captain a great deal of good; it softened him in the very height of his anger, and brought the tears into his eyes.
Arrived at the wooden Midshipman's again, and sitting down in a corner of the dark shop, the Captain's indignation, strong as it was, could make no head against his grief. Passion seemed not only to do wrong and violence to the memory of the dead, but to be infected by death, and to droop and decline beside it. All the living knaves and liars in the world, were nothing to the honesty and truth of one dead friend.
The only thing the honest Captain made out clearly, in this state of mind, besides the loss of Walter, was, that with him almost the whole world of Captain Cuttle had been drowned. If he reproached himself sometimes, and keenly too, for having ever connived at Walter's innocent deceit, he thought at least as often of the Mr Carker whom no sea could ever render up; and the Mr Dombey, whom he now began to perceive was as far beyond human recall; and the 'Heart's Delight,' with whom he must never foregather again; and the Lovely Peg, that teak-built and trim ballad, that had gone ashore upon a rock, and split into mere planks and beams of rhyme. The Captain sat in the dark shop, thinking of these things, to the entire exclusion of his own injury; and looking with as sad an eye upon the ground, as if in contemplation of their actual fragments, as they floated past
But the Captain was not unmindful, for all that, of such decent and rest observances in memory of poor Walter, as he felt within his power. Rousing himself, and rousing Rob the Grinder (who in the unnatural twilight was fast asleep), the Captain sallied forth with his attendant at his heels, and the door-key in his pocket, and repairing to one of those convenient slop-selling establishments of which there is abundant choice at the eastern end of London, purchased on the spot two suits of mourning - one for Rob the Grinder, which was immensely too small, and one for himself, which was immensely too large. He also provided Rob with a species of hat, greatly to be admired for its symmetry and usefulness, as well as for a happy blending of the mariner with the coal-heaver; which is usually termed a sou'wester; and which was something of a novelty in connexion with the instrument business. In their several garments, which the vendor declared to be such a miracle in point of fit as nothing but a rare combination of fortuitous circumstances ever brought about, and the fashion of which was unparalleled within the memory of the oldest inhabitant, the Captain and Grinder immediately arrayed themselves: presenting a spectacle fraught with wonder to all who beheld it.
In this altered form, the Captain received Mr Toots. 'I'm took aback, my lad, at present,' said the Captain, 'and will only confirm that there ill news. Tell the young woman to break it gentle to the young lady, and for neither of 'em never to think of me no more - 'special, mind you, that is - though I will think of them, when night comes on a hurricane and seas is mountains rowling, for which overhaul your Doctor Watts, brother, and when found make a note on."
The Captain reserved, until some fitter time, the consideration of Mr Toots's offer of friendship, and thus dismissed him. Captain Cuttle's spirits were so low, in truth, that he half determined, that day, to take no further precautions against surprise from Mrs MacStinger, but to abandon himself recklessly to chance, and be indifferent to what might happen. As evening came on, he fell into a better frame of mind, however; and spoke much of Walter to Rob the Grinder, whose attention and fidelity he likewise incidentally commended. Rob did not blush to hear the Captain earnest in his praises, but sat staring at him, and affecting to snivel with sympathy, and making a feint of being virtuous, and treasuring up every word he said (like a young spy as he was) with very promising deceit.
When Rob had turned in, and was fast asleep, the Captain trimmed the candle, put on his spectacles - he had felt it appropriate to take to spectacles on entering into the Instrument Trade, though his eyes were like a hawk's - and opened the prayer-book at the Burial Service. And reading softly to himself, in the little back parlour, and stopping now and then to wipe his eyes, the Captain, In a true and simple spirit, committed Walter's body to the deep.
诚实的卡特尔船长在他的设置了防御工事的避难所中度过了好几个星期之后，决不因为敌人没有出现就撤销他为防止突然袭击而采取的谨慎措施。船长认为，他目前这种过分高度的安全，这种过分奇妙的安全是难于持续很久的；他知道，当吹顺风的时候，风标不会长久在那里固定不动；他对麦克斯廷杰太太那毅然决然、毫不畏缩的性格十分熟悉，所以毫不怀疑，这位英勇的女人已打定主意，千方百计要把他寻找出来和逮捕回去。在这些顾虑的重压下，船长战战兢兢地过着十分闭塞和与世隔绝的生活，天黑以前很少出外活动，甚至在天黑以后也只敢冒险到最偏僻的街道上去走走；一到星期天，他就寸步也不离屋子；不论是在他避难所的墙内还是墙外，他都避开女帽，仿佛它们是由狂怒的狮子戴着的。
船长从没有梦想过：当他出去散步时，麦克斯廷杰太太猛扑过来把他抓住的时候，他可能进行抵抗。他觉得不能那样做。他在想象中已看到自己顺服地被安置在出租马车里，运送到他原先的住所中。他预见到，他一旦被禁闭在那里，他就会成为一个毫无希望的人，他的帽子也就会被取走了；麦克斯廷杰太太将日夜监视着他；当着小孩子们的面，各种谴责都将纷纷落到他的头上；他本人将成为一个被怀疑和不受信任的有罪的对象；在孩子们的心目中他是个吃人的魔鬼；在他们母亲的心目中他将是个被查获的叛变者。
当这幅凄惨的景象在他的幻想中出现的时候，船长常常汗流浃背，情绪消沉。当他夜里悄悄离开屋子出去呼吸新鲜空气和活动活动之前，通常发生这种情形。船长明白他所冒的危险，所以在这种时候总是像一个可能永远不再回来的人那样一本正经地向罗布告别，劝告他，万一他（船长）在一段时间中不见了，他就规规矩矩地做人，把铜制的仪器好好擦亮。
但是卡特尔船长不愿放弃任何得救的机会，并为了在最坏的情况下保证能和外界保持联系，不久就想出了一个巧妙的主意，就是教给磨工罗布一些信号，这样在遭遇不幸时，这位追随者就可以发出信号，使他的司令知道他已前来效忠。船长经过反复思考后，决定教他吹“啊，兴高采烈地、兴高采烈地！”这支海上歌曲的口哨。磨工罗布把口哨吹得十分熟练，一个住在陆地上的人最多也只能指望达到那样完美的程度了，这时船长就向他发出以下神秘的指示，让他记在心上：
“唔，我的孩子，做好准备！如果我什么时候被抓去的话——”
“被抓去，船长！”罗布圆眼睛睁得大大的，打断他说道。
“是的！”船长阴郁地说道，“如果我什么时候出去，本打算回来吃晚饭的，但后来却没有出现在你近旁的话，那么，在发现我丢失之后二十四个钟头之后，你就跑到布里格广场，在我过去停泊的地方附近吹这支曲子；不过，你要知道，你得别让人听出你有什么意图，而要装出仿佛你是偶尔漂流到那里去的。如果我也用这支曲子回答你，那么你就掉转船头离开，我的孩子，过二十四个钟头再回来；如果我用另一支曲子回答你，你就一会儿驶离海岸，一会儿靠近海岸，等待我给你新的信号为止。这些命令你听明白了没有？”
“我一会儿驶离海岸，一会儿靠近海岸，这指什么，船长？”
罗布问道，“是指马路吗？”
“瞧你这机灵的孩子！”船长严厉地注视着他，喊道，“连本国话也听不懂！离开一会儿，然后又回来，这么轮流着。——现在懂了吗？”
“懂了，船长，”罗布说道。
“很好，我的孩子，”船长态度温和下来，心平气和地说道，“那就这么办吧！”
为了使罗布做得更好，船长有时在晚上关上店门之后，放下架子，跟他演习起来；为了这个目的，他退藏到客厅里，那是假想中的麦克斯廷杰的住所；然后从他在墙上挖出的侦察洞中仔细地观察他的盟友的举动。磨工罗布十分准确和熟练地完成了他的任务；经过这样考验之后，船长表示满意，好几次送给他六便士的硬币，总共送了七枚，并暗暗地在心中逐渐产生了一种安宁的感觉，这是一个对最坏的情况作了准备，并为对付残酷命运采取了各种适当防备措施的人才能有的。
可是船长一点也不比过去鲁莽随便，去冒碰上厄运的风险。他从珀奇先生那里听到董贝先生将要结婚的消息之后，虽然认为，作为他们家里的朋友，他去参加董贝先生的婚礼，并从楼座向这位先生显露他高兴和赞成的脸孔，是他应该表示的礼貌，但是他乘坐出租单马篷车前去教堂的时候，两边的窗子都是关上的。本来他由于害怕麦克斯廷杰太太，甚至是不是要冒这次风险都是迟疑不决的，但因为那位太太要去参加梅尔奇斯代克大师主持的礼拜仪式，因此在他要去的那个教堂里极不可能也看到她。
船长又平安地回到家里，过着他的新的常规生活。除了每天街道上来往的女帽外，敌人没有在其他方面引起他惊慌。但是其他的问题开始沉重地压在船长的心头。沃尔特的船仍然杳无音讯。老所尔•吉尔斯也毫无消息。弗洛伦斯甚至还不知道老人已经失踪，卡特尔船长也没有心情去告诉她。那位豁达大度、外貌英俊、有侠义气概的青年，从他是个小孩子的时候起，船长就以他粗鲁的方式喜爱他；由于船长觉得他得救的希望开始一天天地愈来愈微弱，所以他一想起要跟弗洛伦斯交谈一两句话，都确实会由于本能地感到痛苦而畏缩起来。如果他有好消息带给她，诚实的船长将会大胆地走进那座装饰一新的公馆，穿过那些光彩夺目的家具，找到道路，走到她的面前去（虽然这些豪华的场面和他在教堂里看到的那位夫人使他感到心寒胆怯）。可是当乌云聚集在他们共同希望的上空，随着一小时一小时过去，愈聚愈浓的时候，船长几乎觉得仿佛他本人对她来说就是一个新的不幸与痛苦似的，所以他害怕弗洛伦斯前来访问，几乎就跟害怕麦克斯廷杰太太前来访问一样。
这是一个寒冷的、黑暗的秋天晚上，卡特尔船长嘱咐罗布在小后客厅里生火，这个小后客厅现在比任何时候都更像是一个船舱了。雨急速地下着，风猛烈地刮着。船长穿过他老朋友的敞开着被暴风吹刮着的卧室，登上屋顶去观察天气；当他看到天气是那么险恶、凄凉的时候，他心灰意冷了，这并不是说他把这时的天气跟可怜的沃尔特的命运联系起来，也不是说他还怀疑：如果老天爷注定他要遭到船沉人亡的命运的话，那么这也是好久以前就已过去的事了；而是说，在跟他思考的问题完全不同的外界的影响下，船长的情绪低沉了，他的希望暗淡了，就像那些比他更聪明的人也曾时常有过，今后也会时常再现的情形一样。
卡特尔船长的脸迎着凛冽的寒风和斜打过来的雨，仰望着从荒凉的屋顶上迅速飞过去的阴沉的雨云，徒劳无益地企图从中寻找出一点可以引起高兴的东西。周围的景物并不好一些。在他脚边各色各样的茶叶箱和其他粗陋的箱子中，磨工罗布的鸽子在咕咕地叫着，很像吹起微风时的凄惋的。有一位把望远镜放在眼睛前面的海军军官候补生，过去曾经一度可以从街道上看到他，但是却长期被砖墙遮挡住了；他是一个摇晃不稳的风向标，当强烈的疾风把他吹刮得团团旋转，并残酷地跟他闹着玩的时候，他在生锈的枢轴上抱怨诉苦，发出了吱吱嘎嘎的声音。寒冷的雨点像钢珠一样在船长的粗糙的蓝色背心上跳起来，猛烈的西北风紧紧吹刮着他的身子，他几乎歪歪斜斜地站不住脚跟；这狂风不肯罢休地袭击着他，想把他从栏杆上推翻下去，抛掷到下面的人行道上。船长抓住帽子，心想今晚如果还有保住性命的希望的话，那么这希望自然是在家里而不是在户外，因此，船长就垂头丧气地摇晃着脑袋，走进屋子去寻找这希望。
卡特尔船长慢吞吞地下了楼，走到后客厅里，坐在他平日的椅子中，开始在炉火中寻找希望；虽然炉火熊熊，明明亮亮，但是它不在那里。他取出烟草盒子和烟斗，安下心来抽烟，并从烟斗中烧红的烟火中和从他嘴中喷出的缭绕的烟雾中寻找它，可是那里连希望的一星半点的微粒也找不到。他倒了一杯搀水的烈酒试试，但是他不能喝干它，否则令人伤感失望的真相就会在杯底露出来了。他在店铺里走了一、两圈，从那些仪器中寻找希望，可是不管他能提出什么反对意见，它们都固执地计算出那条失踪的船的航程，指明它沉落在寂寞的海底。
风仍旧在狂吹，雨仍旧在打着关上的百叶窗；船长在柜台上的木制海军军官候补生的前面停住；当他用袖子擦干这位小军官的制服时，心中想道：这位海军军官候补生在这世界上已经度过了多少个岁月；在过去这些岁月中，他船上的船员们是很少发生变化的——几乎没有任何变化；但这些变化又怎样几乎在一天之内骤然一齐来临；它们又怎样具有一种摧毁一切的性质。在后客厅里的经常聚会如今已经土崩瓦解了；这一小群人如今离散四方，相距遥远。“可爱的配格姑娘”这支歌曲即使有人唱它，也没有听众了，而实际上并没有会唱它的人，因为船长确信，除了他本人之外，没有别人能唱这个小调，而他在目前的情况下又没有情绪去唱它。屋子里看不到沃尔特的欢乐的脸孔——这时船长的袖子离开了海军军官候补生的制服，在他自己的脸上擦了一会儿——；所尔•吉尔斯那熟悉的假发和钮扣已成为过去的幻影；理查德•惠廷顿遭到了当头一棒；与海军军官候补生有关的一切计划与打算，正在茫茫的海浪上漂流，既没有桅，也没有舵。
船长脸色沮丧，站在那里，反复思考着这些事情，同时擦着海军军官候补生；他在擦的时候，部分地怀着对一位老朋友的亲切情谊，部分地又有些心不在焉；就在这时候，店门上突然响起了敲门声，这使坐在柜台上的磨工罗布顿时惊恐地哆嗦了一下；在这之前，他的大眼睛一直在聚精会神地注视着船长的脸孔，心中千百次地思考着这个问题：船长是不是杀了人，深感内疚，所以一直在想逃跑呢？
“什么事？”卡特尔船长低声问道。
“有人敲门，船长，”磨工罗布回答道。
船长露出羞愧和有罪的神色，立即踮着脚尖，偷偷地溜进了小客厅，把自己锁在里面。罗布开了门，如果来访的人是穿着女装的话，他本准备好在门口跟她谈判一番的，可是他是个男的，而罗布所接受的命令只适用于妇女，所以罗布把门打开，让他进来。那人急忙走进，高兴地躲避了外面的滂沱大雨。
“伯吉斯公司又有活好干了，”来访的人说道，一边怜惜地回过头看看他的裤子；裤子被淋得很湿，溅满了污泥，“啊，吉尔斯先生，您好吗？”
这问候的话是对着船长说的；船长这时从后客厅中走出来，极为明显和不熟练地假装成偶尔来到这里似的。
“谢谢您，”那位先生没有停顿，一口气往下说道，“我自己确实很好，我很感谢您。我姓图茨，——图茨先生。”
船长记得在婚礼中看见过这位年轻人，就向他鞠了个躬。图茨先生吃吃地笑了一下，作为回答；然后，由于局促不安（就跟他通常的情况一样），就急促地喘气，和船长长时间地握手；然后，因为想不出别的主意，他转向磨工罗布，极为亲切和热诚地跟他握手。
“是这样的，如果您同意的话，我想跟您说一句话，吉尔斯先生，”图茨先生终于令人惊奇地镇静下来，说道，“是这样的！董贝小姐——您知道！”
船长用同样庄重与神秘的神态，立刻把他的钩子朝小客厅挥了一下，图茨先生就跟随着他走到那里。
“啊，我请您原谅，”图茨先生坐在船长替他放在炉边的椅子中，仰望着船长的脸孔，说道，“您也许不知道鸡吧，是不是，吉尔斯先生？”
“鸡？”船长问道。
“斗鸡，”图茨先生说道。
船长摇了摇头，图茨先生就解释说，他所提到这个人是一位大名鼎鼎的人物，他曾经在跟诺贝•旋罗普希尔第一的竞赛中给他自己和祖国取得了光荣，但是这个消息并没有使船长十分领悟他的意思。
“问题是，他现在还站在外面的街道上；我所有的话都说完了，”图茨先生说道，“不过这无关紧要；也许他不会淋得很湿的。”
“我立刻吩咐让他进来，”船长说道。
“唔，如果您肯行个好，允许他跟您的年轻人坐在店铺里的话，”图茨先生吃吃地笑道，“那么我将感到很高兴；因为，您知道，他是很容易生气的，而潮湿的天气对他体力很不利。
我去喊他进来吧，吉尔斯先生。”
图茨先生一边说，一边跑到店铺门口，向着黑暗的夜色吹了一个奇异的口哨；在这之后，出现了一位斯多噶派①的先生；他穿着一件毛茸茸的白色大衣，戴了一顶平边帽，头发剪得很短，鼻子是破的，每只耳朵后面都有一片很宽的地方，光光的，一根毛也没有。
“请坐，斗鸡，”图茨先生说道。
顺从的斗鸡吐出了几小根作为美餐的稻草，又从他手中的储备中塞了几根新的到嘴里。
“这里能找到一口酒润润嗓子吗？”斗鸡没有特别对着哪一个人说道，“这种多雨的天气对一个自力谋生的人来说真是要命！”
卡特尔船长递上一杯朗姆酒；斗鸡致了简短的祝酒词：“为我们大家的健康干杯！”然后，头往后一仰，就把整杯酒一滴不留地倒进了肚子，就像倒进一个酒桶里似的。当图茨先生和船长回到客厅，在炉前坐下来的时候，图茨先生说道：
“吉尔斯先生——”
“先别说！”船长说道，“我姓卡特尔。”
图茨先生露出一副张皇失措的神情，听船长庄严地继续说下去：
“我叫卡特尔船长，我的祖国是英国，这里是我的住所。为宇宙万物祝福吧！这句话引自《约伯记》②。”船长指出了他引语的出处，说道。
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①斯多噶派：哲学上的一种流派，他们是禁欲主义者，生活淡泊，坚忍无怨，不以苦乐为意。
②《约伯记》：《旧约圣经》中的一篇；约伯是希伯来族长，以坚忍耐劳著称；《约伯记》就是记述他的故事。
“啊！我不能见到吉尔斯先生了，是不是？”图茨先生说道，“因为——”
“如果您能见到所尔•吉尔斯，年轻人，”船长把他沉重的手搁在图茨先生的膝盖上，令人难忘地说道，“如果您能亲眼见到老所尔的话，那么您对我来说，就比顺风对平静海面上的船更受欢迎了。可是您不能见到所尔•吉尔斯了。为什么您不能见到所尔•吉尔斯呢？”船长说道，他从图茨先生的脸上看出，他在这位年轻人的心中留下了深刻的印象，“因为他是不可能见到的了。”
图茨先生处于焦虑不安的心情中，正准备回答说，这根本无关紧要，但是他立即醒悟过来，说道，“天主，保佑我吧！”
“这个人，”船长说，“写了一个条子留给我，托我在这里照管这里的一切；虽然他好得就像是我的结拜弟兄一样，可是我并不比您更知道他到哪里去了，也不比您更知道他为什么走了；或许他是去寻找他的外甥，或许是他的头脑有毛病。有一天早上，天刚蒙蒙亮，他从船边跳下去了，”船长说道，“没有溅起一朵水花，也没有生出一圈涟漪；我走遍了四处去寻找这个人，可是从那时以后，我的眼睛就没有再看见过他的身影，我的耳朵就没有再听到过他的；关于他的下落，一点音讯也没有。”
“可是，我的天哪，董贝小姐不知道——”图茨先生开始说道。
“可是，我问您，您这个好心的人，”船长放低了，说道，“为什么她要知道？为什么在对她毫无益处的时候要让她知道？她，这个可爱的人儿，爱老所尔•吉尔斯，是那么亲切，那么温存，那么——说这些有什么好处呢？您知道她。”
“我希望这样，”图茨先生吃吃地笑道，他感到自己整个脸孔都涨得通红了。
“您是从她那里来的吗？”船长问道。
“我想是的，”图茨先生吃吃地笑道。
“那么我需要说的是，”船长说道，“您认识了一位天使，天使给您发了特许执照。”
图茨先生立即抓住了船长的手，请求能得到他的友谊。
“说实话，我以荣誉发誓，”图茨先生恳切地说道，“如果您肯答应我跟您的交情比现在更亲密一些的话，那么我真会非常感谢您。我喜欢跟您相识，船长。我非常需要有一位朋友。在老布林伯的学校里，小董贝是我的朋友。如果他活着的话，那么现在也还是我的朋友。斗鸡，”图茨先生用可怜的低声说道，“很不错——是个别具才干的人——也许是世界上最机警聪明的人，他没有什么不会的，人人都这么说——可是我不知道——光有他还不够啊。——不错，她是天使，船长。如果世界上有天使的话，这就是董贝小姐——这是我经常说的。说真的，如果您肯跟我交往的话，那么我真会非常感谢您。”
卡特尔船长彬彬有礼地听取了这个建议，但仍然没有许下诺言来接受它，他仅仅说道，“是的，是的，我的孩子，我们以后看吧，我们以后看吧。”接着问他这次为什么前来访问，因而向图茨先生提醒了他当前的使命。
“唔，事情是这样的，”图茨先生回答道，“我是从那位姑娘那里来的。我说的并不是董贝小姐，您知道，我说的是苏珊。”
船长脸上露出庄重的神情点了一下头，表示他对那位姑娘怀着极大的尊敬。
“我想告诉您这是怎么发生的，”图茨先生说道，“您知道，我有时前去访问董贝小姐。您知道，我并不是特意到那里去的，但我时常碰巧去到邻近的地方，而当我发现到了那里时，嗯——嗯，我就去拜访她了。”
“自然而然地，”船长说道。
“是的，”图茨先生说道，“今天下午我去拜访了。说实话，我以我的荣誉发誓，我认为要想象董贝小姐今天下午是何等模样的天使是不可能的。”
船长有力地点了一下头，表示有些人可能是不容易想象的，但对他来说，这却是相当容易的。
“当我要离开的时候，”图茨先生说，“那位姑娘完全出乎我的意料之外，把我领到餐具室中。”
船长似乎对这行动一时感到不高兴；他背靠着椅子，露出不信任的（如果不说是威胁的）神色，看着图茨先生。
“她在那里取出这张报纸，”图茨先生说道，“她告诉我，她把它藏了一整天没给董贝小姐看，因为报纸上有一段什么消息说到她和董贝过去都认识的一个什么人；然后她就把那段消息念给我听。念得很好。然后她说——请等一下子——
她是怎么说的？”
图茨先生竭力设法把他的脑力集中到这个问题上的时候，无意间碰上了船长的眼光；船长严厉的神色使他心慌意乱，因此他要回到原来的话题更加困难了，简直达到了痛苦的程度。
“哦！”图茨先生经过长时间的思索之后，说道，“哦，啊！对了！她说，她希望还有一星半点的可能性：这消息也许不确实。因为她自己出来不能不惊动董贝小姐，所以问我能不能到这条街上来找仪器制造商所罗门•吉尔斯（他是当事人的舅舅），问问他是不是相信这是确实的，或者他是不是在城里听到别的事情。她说，如果他不能跟我说，那么卡特尔船长毫无疑问是能跟我说的。顺便说说！”当这一意外的发现掠过他的心头时，图茨先生喊道，“您，您知道！”
船长往图茨先生手中的报纸看了一眼，急促地喘着气。
“唔，”图茨先生继续说道，“我来得这么晚的原因是因为我首先到芬奇利这么远的地方去给董贝小姐的鸟儿采一些繁缕，那里生长的繁缕非常好。但是在这之后我就立即到这里来了。我想，您已看到这份报纸了吧？”
船长早已不读报纸，
Chapter 33
Contrasts
Turn we our eyes upon two homes; not lying side by side, but wide apart, though both within easy range and reach of the great city of London.
The first is situated in the green and wooded country near Norwood. It is not a mansion; it is of no pretensions as to size; but it is beautifully arranged, and tastefully kept. The lawn, the soft, smooth slope, the flower-garden, the clumps of trees where graceful forms of ash and willow are not wanting, the conservatory, the rustic verandah with sweet-smelling creeping plants entwined about the pillars, the simple exterior of the house, the well-ordered offices, though all upon the diminutive scale proper to a mere cottage, bespeak an amount of elegant comfort within, that might serve for a palace. This indication is not without warrant; for, within, it is a house of refinement and luxury. Rich colours, excellently blended, meet the eye at every turn; in the furniture - its proportions admirably devised to suit the shapes and sizes of the small rooms; on the walls; upon the floors; tingeing and subduing the light that comes in through the odd glass doors and windows here and there. There are a few choice prints and pictures too; in quaint nooks and recesses there is no want of books; and there are games of skill and chance set forth on tables - fantastic chessmen, dice, backgammon, cards, and billiards.
And yet amidst this opulence of comfort, there is something in the general air that is not well. Is it that the carpets and the cushions are too soft and noiseless, so that those who move or repose among them seem to act by stealth? Is it that the prints and pictures do not commemorate great thoughts or deeds, or render nature in the Poetry of landscape, hall, or hut, but are of one voluptuous cast - mere shows of form and colour - and no more? Is it that the books have all their gold outside, and that the titles of the greater part qualify them to be companions of the prints and pictures? Is it that the completeness and the beauty of the place are here and there belied by an affectation of humility, in some unimportant and inexpensive regard, which is as false as the face of the too truly painted portrait hanging yonder, or its original at breakfast in his easy chair below it? Or is it that, with the daily breath of that original and master of all here, there issues forth some subtle portion of himself, which gives a vague expression of himself to everything about him?
It is Mr Carker the Manager who sits in the easy chair. A gaudy parrot in a burnished cage upon the table tears at the wires with her beak, and goes walking, upside down, in its dome-top, shaking her house and screeching; but Mr Carker is indifferent to the bird, and looks with a musing smile at a picture on the opposite wall.
'A most extraordinary accidental likeness, certainly,' says he.
Perhaps it is a Juno; perhaps a Potiphar's Wife'; perhaps some scornful Nymph - according as the Picture Dealers found the market, when they christened it. It is the figure of a woman, supremely handsome, who, turning away, but with her face addressed to the spectator, flashes her proud glance upon him.
It is like Edith.
With a passing gesture of his hand at the picture - what! a menace? No; yet something like it. A wave as of triumph? No; yet more like that. An insolent salute wafted from his lips? No; yet like that too - he resumes his breakfast, and calls to the chafing and imprisoned bird, who coming down into a pendant gilded hoop within the cage, like a great wedding-ring, swings in it, for his delight.
The second home is on the other side of London, near to where the busy great north road of bygone days is silent and almost deserted, except by wayfarers who toil along on foot. It is a poor small house, barely and sparely furnished, but very clean; and there is even an attempt to decorate it, shown in the homely flowers trained about the porch and in the narrow garden. The neighbourhood in which it stands has as little of the country to recommend'it, as it has of the town. It is neither of the town nor country. The former, like the giant in his travelling boots, has made a stride and passed it, and has set his brick-and-mortar heel a long way in advance; but the intermediate space between the giant's feet, as yet, is only blighted country, and not town; and, here, among a few tall chimneys belching smoke all day and night, and among the brick-fields and the lanes where turf is cut, and where the fences tumble down, and where the dusty nettles grow, and where a scrap or two of hedge may yet be seen, and where the bird-catcher still comes occasionally, though he swears every time to come no more - this second home is to be found.'
She who inhabits it, is she who left the first in her devotion to an outcast brother. She withdrew from that home its redeeming spirit, and from its master's breast his solitary angel: but though his liking for her is gone, after this ungrateful slight as he considers it; and though he abandons her altogether in return, an old idea of her is not quite forgotten even by him. Let her flower-garden, in which he never sets his foot, but which is yet maintained, among all his costly alterations, as if she had quitted it but yesterday, bear witness!
Harriet Carker has changed since then, and on her beauty there has fallen a heavier shade than Time of his unassisted self can cast, all-potent as he is - the shadow of anxiety and sorrow, and the daily struggle of a poor existence. But it is beauty still; and still a gentle, quiet, and retiring beauty that must be sought out, for it cannot vaunt itself; if it could, it would be what it is, no more.
Yes. This slight, small, patient figure, neatly dressed in homely stuffs, and indicating nothing but the dull, household virtues, that have so little in common with the received idea of heroism and greatness, unless, indeed, any ray of them should shine through the lives of the great ones of the earth, when it becomes a constellation and is tracked in Heaven straightway - this slight, small, patient figure, leaning on the man still young but worn and grey, is she, his sister, who, of all the world, went over to him in his shame and put her hand in his, and with a sweet composure and determination, led him hopefully upon his barren way.
'It is early, John,' she said. 'Why do you go so early?'
'Not many minutes earlier than usual, Harriet. If I have the time to spare, I should like, I think - it's a fancy - to walk once by the house where I took leave of him.'
'I wish I had ever seen or known him, John.'
'It is better as it is, my dear, remembering his fate.'
'But I could not regret it more, though I had known him. Is not your sorrow mine? And if I had, perhaps you would feel that I was a better companion to you in speaking about him, than I may seem now.
'My dearest sister! Is there anything within the range of rejoicing or regret, in which I am not sure of your companionship?'
'I hope you think not, John, for surely there is nothing!'
'How could you be better to me, or nearer to me then, than you are in this, or anything?' said her brother. 'I feel that you did know him, Harriet, and that you shared my feelings towards him.'
She drew the hand which had been resting on his shoulder, round his neck, and answered, with some hesitation:
'No, not quite.'
'True, true!' he said; 'you think I might have done him no harm if I had allowed myself to know him better?'
'Think! I know it.'
'Designedly, Heaven knows I would not,' he replied, shaking his head mournfully; 'but his reputation was too precious to be perilled by such association. Whether you share that knowledge, or do not, my dear - '
'I do not,' she said quietly.
'It is still the truth, Harriet, and my mind is lighter when I think of him for that which made it so much heavier then.' He checked himself in his tone of melancholy, and smiled upon her as he said 'Good-bye!'
'Good-bye, dear John! In the evening, at the old time and place, I shall meet you as usual on your way home. Good-bye.'
The cordial face she lifted up to his to kiss him, was his home, his life, his universe, and yet it was a portion of his punishment and grief; for in the cloud he saw upon it - though serene and calm as any radiant cloud at sunset - and in the constancy and devotion of her life, and in the sacrifice she had made of ease, enjoyment, and hope, he saw the bitter fruits of his old crime, for ever ripe and fresh.
She stood at the door looking after him, with her hands loosely clasped in each other, as he made his way over the frowzy and uneven patch of ground which lay before their house, which had once (and not long ago) been a pleasant meadow, and was now a very waste, with a disorderly crop of beginnings of mean houses, rising out of the rubbish, as if they had been unskilfully sown there. Whenever he looked back - as once or twice he did - her cordial face shone like a light upon his heart; but when he plodded on his way, and saw her not, the tears were in her eyes as she stood watching him.
Her pensive form was not long idle at the door. There was daily duty to discharge, and daily work to do - for such commonplace spirits that are not heroic, often work hard with their hands - and Harriet was soon busy with her household tasks. These discharged, and the poor house made quite neat and orderly, she counted her little stock of money, with an anxious face, and went out thoughtfully to buy some necessaries for their table, planning and conniving, as she went, how to save. So sordid are the lives of such lo natures, who are not only not heroic to their valets and waiting-women, but have neither valets nor waiting-women to be heroic to withal!
While she was absent, and there was no one in the house, there approached it by a different way from that the brother had taken, a gentleman, a very little past his prime of life perhaps, but of a healthy florid hue, an upright presence, and a bright clear aspect, that was gracious and good-humoured. His eyebrows were still black, and so was much of his hair; the sprinkling of grey observable among the latter, graced the former very much, and showed his broad frank brow and honest eyes to great advantage.
After knocking once at the door, and obtaining no response, this gentleman sat down on a bench in the little porch to wait. A certain skilful action of his fingers as he hummed some bars, and beat time on the seat beside him, seemed to denote the musician; and the extraordinary satisfaction he derived from humming something very slow and long, which had no recognisable tune, seemed to denote that he was a scientific one.
The gentleman was still twirlIng a theme, which seemed to go round and round and round, and in and in and in, and to involve itself like a corkscrew twirled upon a table, without getting any nearer to anything, when Harriet appeared returning. He rose up as she advanced, and stood with his head uncovered.
'You are come again, Sir!' she said, faltering.
'I take that liberty,' he answered. 'May I ask for five minutes of your leisure?'
After a moment's hesitation, she opened the door, and gave him admission to the little parlour. The gentleman sat down there, drew his chair to the table over against her, and said, in a voice that perfectly corresponded to his appearance, and with a simplicity that was very engaging:
'Miss Harriet, you cannot be proud. You signified to me, when I called t'other morning, that you were. Pardon me if I say that I looked into your face while you spoke, and that it contradicted you. I look into it again,' he added, laying his hand gently on her arm, for an instant, 'and it contradicts you more and more.'
She was somewhat confused and agitated, and could make no ready answer.
'It is the mirror of truth,' said her visitor, 'and gentleness. Excuse my trusting to it, and returning.'
His manner of saying these words, divested them entirely of the character of compliments. It was so plain, grave, unaffected, and sincere, that she bent her head, as if at once to thank him, and acknowledge his sincerity.
'The disparity between our ages,' said the gentleman, 'and the plainness of my purpose, empower me, I am glad to think, to speak my mind. That is my mind; and so you see me for the second time.'
'There is a kind of pride, Sir,' she returned, after a moment's silence, 'or what may be supposed to be pride, which is mere duty. I hope I cherish no other.'
'For yourself,' he said.
'For myself.'
'But - pardon me - ' suggested the gentleman. 'For your brother John?'
'Proud of his love, I am,' said Harriet, looking full upon her visitor, and changing her manner on the instant - not that it was less composed and quiet, but that there was a deep impassioned earnestness in it that made the very tremble in her voice a part of her firmness, 'and proud of him. Sir, you who strangely know the story of his life, and repeated it to me when you were here last - '
'Merely to make my way into your confidence,' interposed the gentleman. 'For heaven's sake, don't suppose - '
'I am sure,' she said, 'you revived it, in my hearing, with a kind and good purpose. I am quite sure of it.'
'I thank you,' returned her visitor, pressing her hand hastily. 'I am much obliged to you. You do me justice, I assure you. You were going to say, that I, who know the story of John Carker's life - '
'May think it pride in me,' she continued, 'when I say that I am proud of him! I am. You know the time was, when I was not - when I could not be - but that is past. The humility of many years, the uncomplaining expiation, the true repentance, the terrible regret, the pain I know he has even in my affection, which he thinks has cost me dear, though Heaven knows I am happy, but for his sorrow I - oh, Sir, after what I have seen, let me conjure you, if you are in any place of power, and are ever wronged, never, for any wrong, inflict a punishment that cannot be recalled; while there is a GOD above us to work changes in the hearts He made.'
'Your brother is an altered man,' returned the gentleman, compassionately. 'I assure you I don't doubt it.'
'He was an altered man when he did wrong,' said Harriet. 'He is an altered man again, and is his true self now, believe me, Sir.'
'But we go on, said her visitor, rubbing his forehead, in an absent manner, with his hand, and then drumming thoughtfully on the table, 'we go on in our clockwork routine, from day to day, and can't make out, or follow, these changes. They - they're a metaphysical sort of thing. We - we haven't leisure for it. We - we haven't courage. They're not taught at schools or colleges, and we don't know how to set about it. In short, we are so d-------d business-like,' said the gentleman, walking to the window, and back, and sitting down again, in a state of extreme dissatisfaction and vexation.
'I am sure,' said the gentleman, rubbing his forehead again; and drumming on the table as before, 'I have good reason to believe that a jog-trot life, the same from day to day, would reconcile one to anything. One don't see anything, one don't hear anything, one don't know anything; that's the fact. We go on taking everything for granted, and so we go on, until whatever we do, good, bad, or indifferent, we do from habit. Habit is all I shall have to report, when I am called upon to plead to my conscience, on my death-bed. ''Habit," says I; ''I was deaf, dumb, blind, and paralytic, to a million things, from habit." ''Very business-like indeed, Mr What's-your-name,' says Conscience, ''but it won't do here!"'
The gentleman got up and walked to the window again and back: seriously uneasy, though giving his uneasiness this peculiar expression.
'Miss Harriet,' he said, resuming his chair, 'I wish you would let me serve you. Look at me; I ought to look honest, for I know I am so, at present. Do I?'
'Yes,' she answered with a smile.
'I believe every word you have said,' he returned. 'I am full of self-reproach that I might have known this and seen this, and known you and seen you, any time these dozen years, and that I never have. I hardly know how I ever got here - creature that I am, not only of my own habit, but of other people'sl But having done so, let me do something. I ask it in all honour and respect. You inspire me with both, in the highest degree. Let me do something.'
'We are contented, Sir.'
'No, no, not quite,' returned the gentleman. 'I think not quite. There are some little comforts that might smooth your life, and his. And his!' he repeated, fancying that had made some impression on her. 'I have been in the habit of thinking that there was nothing wanting to be done for him; that it was all settled and over; in short, of not thinking at all about it. I am different now. Let me do something for him. You too,' said the visitor, with careful delicacy, 'have need to watch your health closely, for his sake, and I fear it fails.'
'Whoever you may be, Sir,' answered Harriet, raising her eyes to his face, 'I am deeply grateful to you. I feel certain that in all you say, you have no object in the world but kindness to us. But years have passed since we began this life; and to take from my brother any part of what has so endeared him to me, and so proved his better resolution - any fragment of the merit of his unassisted, obscure, and forgotten reparation - would be to diminish the comfort it will be to him and me, when that time comes to each of us, of which you spoke just now. I thank you better with these tears than any words. Believe it, pray.
The gentleman was moved, and put the hand she held out, to his lips, much as a tender father might kiss the hand of a dutiful child. But more reverently.
'If the day should ever come, said Harriet, 'when he is restored, in part, to the position he lost - '
'Restored!' cried the gentleman, quickly. 'How can that be hoped for? In whose hands does the power of any restoration lie? It is no mistake of mine, surely, to suppose that his having gained the priceless blessing of his life, is one cause of the animosity shown to him by his brother.'
'You touch upon a subject that is never breathed between us; not even between us,' said Harriet.
'I beg your forgiveness,' said the visitor. 'I should have known it. I entreat you to forget that I have done so, inadvertently. And now, as I dare urge no more - as I am not sure that I have a right to do so - though Heaven knows, even that doubt may be habit,' said the gentleman, rubbing his head, as despondently as before, 'let me; though a stranger, yet no stranger; ask two favours.'
'What are they?' she inquired.
'The first, that if you should see cause to change your resolution, you will suffer me to be as your right hand. My name shall then be at your service; it is useless now, and always insignificant.'
'Our choice of friends,' she answered, smiling faintly, 'is not so great, that I need any time for consideration. I can promise that.'
'The second, that you will allow me sometimes, say every Monday morning, at nine o'clock - habit again - I must be businesslike,' said the gentleman, with a whimsical inclination to quarrel with himself on that head, 'in walking past, to see you at the door or window. I don't ask to come in, as your brother will be gone out at that hour. I don't ask to speak to you. I merely ask to see, for the satisfaction of my own mind, that you are well, and without intrusion to remind you, by the sight of me, that you have a friend - an elderly friend, grey-haired already, and fast growing greyer - whom you may ever command.'
The cordial face looked up in his; confided in it; and promised.
'I understand, as before,' said the gentleman, rising, 'that you purpose not to mention my visit to John Carker, lest he should be at all distressed by my acquaintance with his history. I am glad of it, for it is out of the ordinary course of things, and - habit again!' said the gentleman, checking himself impatiently, 'as if there were no better course than the ordinary course!'
With that he turned to go, and walking, bareheaded, to the outside of the little porch, took leave of her with such a happy mixture of unconstrained respect and unaffected interest, as no breeding could have taught, no truth mistrusted, and nothing but a pure and single heart expressed.
Many half-forgotten emotions were awakened in the sister's mind by this visit. It was so very long since any other visitor had crossed their threshold; it was so very long since any voice of apathy had made sad music in her ears; that the stranger's figure remained present to her, hours afterwards, when she sat at the window, plying her needle; and his words seemed newly spoken, again and again. He had touched the spring that opened her whole life; and if she lost him for a short space, it was only among the many shapes of the one great recollection of which that life was made.
Musing and working by turns; now constraining herself to be steady at her needle for a long time together, and now letting her work fall, unregarded, on her lap, and straying wheresoever her busier thoughts led, Harriet Carker found the hours glide by her, and the day steal on. The morning, which had been bright and clear, gradually became overcast; a sharp wind set in; the rain fell heavily; and a dark mist drooping over the distant town, hid it from the view.
She often looked with compassion, at such a time, upon the stragglers who came wandering into London, by the great highway hard by, and who, footsore and weary, and gazing fearfully at the huge town before them, as if foreboding that their misery there would be but as a drop of water in the sea, or as a grain of sea-sand on the shore, went shrinking on, cowering before the angry weather, and looking as if the very elements rejected them. Day after day, such travellers crept past, but always, as she thought, In one direction - always towards the town. Swallowed up in one phase or other of its immensity, towards which they seemed impelled by a desperate fascination, they never returned. Food for the hospitals, the churchyards, the prisons, the river, fever, madness, vice, and death, - they passed on to the monster, roaring in the distance, and were lost.
The chill wind was howling, and the rain was falling, and the day was darkening moodily, when Harriet, raising her eyes from the work on which she had long since been engaged with unremitting constancy, saw one of these travellers approaching.
A woman. A solitary woman of some thirty years of age; tall; well-formed; handsome; miserably dressed; the soil of many country roads in varied weather - dust, chalk, clay, gravel - clotted on her grey cloak by the streaming wet; no bonnet on her head, nothing to defend her rich black hair from the rain, but a torn handkerchief; with the fluttering ends of which, and with her hair, the wind blinded her so that she often stopped to push them back, and look upon the way she was going.
She was in the act of doing so, when Harriet observed her. As her hands, parting on her sunburnt forehead, swept across her face, and threw aside the hindrances that encroached upon it, there was a reckless and regardless beauty in it: a dauntless and depraved indifference to more than weather: a carelessness of what was cast upon her bare head from Heaven or earth: that, coupled with her misery and loneliness, touched the heart of her fellow-woman. She thought of all that was perverted and debased within her, no less than without: of modest graces of the mind, hardened and steeled, like these attractions of the person; of the many gifts of the Creator flung to the winds like the wild hair; of all the beautiful ruin upon which the storm was beating and the night was coming.
Thinking of this, she did not turn away with a delicate indignation - too many of her own compassionate and tender sex too often do - but pitied her.
Her fallen sister came on, looking far before her, trying with her eager eyes to pierce the mist in which the city was enshrouded, and glancing, now and then, from side to side, with the bewildered - and uncertain aspect of a stranger. Though her tread was bold and courageous, she was fatigued, and after a moment of irresolution, - sat down upon a heap of stones; seeking no shelter from the rain, but letting it rain on her as it would.
She was now opposite the house; raising her head after resting it for a moment on both hands, her eyes met those of Harriet.
In a moment, Harriet was at the door; and the other, rising from her seat at her beck, came slowly, and with no conciliatory look, towards her.
'Why do you rest in the rain?' said Harriet, gently.
'Because I have no other resting-place,' was the reply.
'But there are many places of shelter near here. This,' referring to the little porch, 'is better than where you were. You are very welcome to rest here.'
The wanderer looked at her, in doubt and surprise, but without any expression of thankfulness; and sitting down, and taking off one of her worn shoes to beat out the fragments of stone and dust that were inside, showed that her foot was cut and bleeding.
Harriet uttering an expression of pity, the traveller looked up with a contemptuous and incredulous smile.
'Why, what's a torn foot to such as me?' she said. 'And what's a torn foot in such as me, to such as you?'
'Come in and wash it,' answered Harriet, mildly, 'and let me give you something to bind it up.'
The woman caught her arm, and drawing it before her own eyes, hid them against it, and wept. Not like a woman, but like a stern man surprised into that weakness; with a violent heaving of her breast, and struggle for recovery, that showed how unusual the emotion was with her.
She submitted to be led into the house, and, evidently more in gratitude than in any care for herself, washed and bound the injured place. Harriet then put before her fragments of her own frugal dinner, and when she had eaten of them, though sparingly, besought her, before resuming her road (which she showed her anxiety to do), to dry her clothes before the fire. Again, more in gratitude than with any evidence of concern in her own behalf, she sat down in front of it, and unbinding the handkerchief about her head, and letting her thick wet hair fall down below her waist, sat drying it with the palms of her hands, and looking at the blaze.
'I daresay you are thinking,' she said, lifting her head suddenly, 'that I used to be handsome, once. I believe I was - I know I was - Look here!' She held up her hair roughly with both hands; seizing it as if she would have torn it out; then, threw it down again, and flung it back as though it were a heap of serpents.
'Are you a stranger in this place?' asked Harriet.
'A stranger!' she returned, stopping between each short reply, and looking at the fire. 'Yes. Ten or a dozen years a stranger. I have had no almanack where I have been. Ten or a dozen years. I don't know this part. It's much altered since I went away.'
'Have you been far?'
'Very far. Months upon months over the sea, and far away even then. I have been where convicts go,' she added, looking full upon her entertainer. 'I have been one myself.'
'Heaven help you and forgive you!' was the gentle answer.
'Ah! Heaven help me and forgive me!' she returned, nodding her head at the fire. 'If man would help some of us a little more, God would forgive us all the sooner perhaps.'
But she was softened by the earnest manner, and the cordial face so full of mildness and so free from judgment, of her, and said, less hardily:
'We may be about the same age, you and me. If I am older, it is not above a year or two. Oh think of that!'
She opened her arms, as though the exhibition of her outward form would show the moral wretch she was; and letting them drop at her sides, hung down her head.
'There is nothing we may not hope to repair; it is never too late to amend,' said Harriet. 'You are penitent
'No,' she answered. 'I am not! I can't be. I am no such thing. Why should I be penitent, and all the world go free? They talk to me of my penitence. Who's penitent for the wrongs that have been done to me?'
She rose up, bound her handkerchief about her head, and turned to move away.
'Where are you going?' said Harriet.
'Yonder,' she answered, pointing with her hand. 'To London.'
'Have you any home to go to?'
'I think I have a mother. She's as much a mother, as her dwelling is a home,' she answered with a bitter laugh.
'Take this,' cried Harriet, putting money in her hand. 'Try to do well. It is very little, but for one day it may keep you from harm.'
'Are you married?' said the other, faintly, as she took it.
'No. I live here with my brother. We have not much to spare, or I would give you more.'
'Will you let me kiss you?'
Seeing no scorn or repugnance in her face, the object of her charity bent over her as she asked the question, and pressed her lips against her cheek. Once more she caught her arm, and covered her eyes with it; and then was gone.
Gone into the deepening night, and howling wind, and pelting rain; urging her way on towards the mist-enshrouded city where the blurred lights gleamed; and with her black hair, and disordered head-gear, fluttering round her reckless face.
让我们把眼睛转到两个家。虽然它们离伟大的伦敦城都不远，但它们并不是并排坐落在邻近的地方，而是相隔着很大的距离。
第一个家位于诺伍德①附近林木葱茏的乡间。它不是个公馆，它可以自夸的地方不在于面积；但它建造得美丽，装饰得雅致。里面有草坪，花园，暖房；斜坡是柔软和徐缓的，树丛中有不少风姿优美的白蜡树和柳树；游廊是用天然的树木建造的，芳香的匍匐植物缠绕在它的柱子上；住宅的外表朴素，厨房、厕所的设备完善；所有这一切虽然都是小型的，适合于一个普通的别墅，但却说明屋里有着可以供宫殿使用的各种优雅的舒适物品。这个说法并不是没有根据，因为屋子里面的陈设全都是精美与奢华的。鲜艳的颜色处处映入眼帘，它们搭配得很好。在家具中，在墙壁上，在地板上，这些鲜艳的颜色给从奇异的玻璃门窗中射进来的光线染上色彩，使它们变得柔和。家具的大小设计得跟小房间的形状与面积惊人地协调。这里还有几幅优美的木刻与图画；在离奇有趣的角落与壁凹中有不少书；几张桌子上摆着各种比赛技巧或碰运气的游戏用具：奇异的棋子，骰子，十五子棋，纸牌和台球。
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①诺伍德（Norwood）：伦敦郊区的地方。
可是，在这些丰富的舒适物品当中存在的总的气氛中却有着某些不良的东西。是不是因为地毯和垫子太柔软、太没有，因此在这里走动或安息的人们都好像是在偷偷摸摸地行动呢？是不是因为那些木刻和图画不是赞颂崇高的思想或业绩，也不是反映风景、厅堂或茅舍中含有诗意的自然美色，而全都是色情肉感一类的作品——它们仅仅炫示形状与颜色而已——而没有别的呢？是不是因为那些书籍都有着金色的外表，从大部分标题来看跟那些木刻与图画都是属于同一类内容的货色呢？是不是因为这房屋的富裕与华美跟这里那里在某些无关重要和耗费不大的方面假装出来的谦逊不相一致呢？（这种虚假的程度就跟挂在墙上的那幅画得逼真的肖像的脸孔或坐在下面安乐椅中正在吃早饭的原型一模一样），或者是不是因为这幅肖像的原型——这里一切的主人——由于每天呼吸空气，就不知不觉地把他自己身上某些微妙的影响扩散到周围的一切东西中呢？
坐在安乐椅中的就是卡克先生。桌子上闪闪发亮的鸟笼子里有一只艳丽的鹦鹉，它用嘴巴咬着铁丝，在它的圆屋顶里胡乱地走来走去，同时摇撼着它的房屋，在尖声叫着；可是卡克先生丝毫也不去注意这只鸟，而是含着沉思的微笑，望着对面墙上的画像。
“的确，碰巧非常相像，”他说道。
也许，这是朱诺①吧；也许这是波提乏的妻子②吧；也许，就像市场上商人们在买卖时所命名的，这是个藐视一切的宁芙③吧。这是一位非常漂亮的女人的画像，她转过身子，但却回过头来，脸孔对着看画的人，向他投来高傲的眼光。
她像伊迪丝。
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①朱诺（Juno）：罗马神话中主神朱庇特（Jupiter）的妻子，是气派高贵的美人。
②圣经故事中埃及法老的内臣护卫长波提乏（Potiphar）的妻子；她曾勾引在她家总管家务的约瑟；约瑟拒绝她的勾引，她便恼羞成怒，反诬约瑟要强奸她；波提乏信以为真，便将约瑟关入监狱。
③宁芙（Nymph）：希腊神话中半神半人的少女，住在山、林、水泽中。
他向画像挥了挥手——这是什么意思！是威吓吗？不是，可是也有些像威吓。是扬扬得意的流露吗？不是，可是很有些像扬扬得意。是从他嘴唇上吹送出去的侮辱性的飞吻吗？不是，可是也像是飞吻。——他又重新吃早饭，并招呼关在笼子中的生气的鸟儿；有一个像很大的结婚戒指一样的镀金的圆环悬垂在笼子中，那鸟儿往下走到圆环中，前后摇荡，给他开心取乐。
第二个家在伦敦的另一边，离北边的大公路不远；在往昔的日子里，这条大路交通繁忙，如今却是静寂无声；除了步行的旅客还沿着它辛苦地跋涉外，它几乎已被人们遗弃了。这是一座贫穷的小房屋，家具简陋、稀少，但却很干净；从裁培在门廊旁边和狭窄的庭园中的普通花卉来看，房屋的主人甚至还想把它装饰一下。它所坐落的地方既没有乡村的景色，也没有城市的风光。它既不是城市，又不是乡村。城市就像是个穿着旅行靴的巨人，大步跨过它，在远远的前方落下了他的由砖头和灰泥做成的靴底；可是在巨人两脚之间的地方，现在仍然是光景萧条的乡村。这里有几座日夜冒着黑烟的烟囱，有几个砖厂，还有一些小路，小路上青草已经被割去了，篱笆已经倒塌了，但生长着灰尘覆盖的荨麻，还可以看到一两片树篱；捉鸟的人仍偶尔前来光顾，但每次都发誓不再回来了；第二个家的住宅就坐落在这样的环境之中。
住在这个住宅中的她，就是由于热爱一个被遗弃的弟弟，才离开第一个家的住宅的。她从那座住宅中带走了赎罪的精神，从住宅主人的心胸中带走了他唯一的守护天使。虽然在这次在他看来是忘恩负义的、侮辱性的行为之后，他对她已不再喜爱；虽然他为了报复，已将她抛弃；可是甚至在他的心中也还没有完全遗忘对她的往日的记忆。让她在他门前留下的花园来证明吧！虽然他的脚步从来没有走进去过，可是他尽管花了很多钱来改建他的住宅，这个花园却依旧保留下来，就仿佛她昨天才离开似的。
哈里特•卡克从那时以来，容貌已经改变了；时间老人已经在她美丽的姿容上投下了比他在没有得到外界帮助的情况下独自所能投下的更为沉重的阴影——这是忧虑、悲伤和每天为可怜的生活挣扎的阴影。可是她的姿容仍然是美丽的，仍然是温柔的、文静的、谦逊的美；它是必须寻找才能发现的，因为它不会炫耀自己；如果它会的话，那么它就不会像现在这样了。
是的，这个苗条、矮小、耐性的人儿，穿着普通布料做成的洁净的衣服；在她身上所能看到的仅仅是平淡无奇的家常美德，并没有别的；这种美德与公认的英雄与伟大气概很少有共同之处，除非当这种美德之光成为星座，可以从天上直接找到，那时候这种美德的光线就会照进这个世界上的伟大人物的生活之中。——这位苗条的、矮小的、耐性的人儿靠在一位仍然年轻，但却疲乏无力、头发斑白的男子身上。她就是他的姐姐。她在他蒙受耻辱的时候，独自来到他身边，把她的手搁到他的手中，亲切地、沉着地怀着决心，满怀希望地引导他走上他的荒芜的道路。
“现在还早呢，约翰，”她说道，“为什么你这么早就走了？”
“比平时只早几分钟，哈里特。如果我能抽出时间的话，我想，我就爱从我跟他告别的那座房屋旁边经过，这是个怪癖。”
“我要是过去看见过他或认识他就好了，约翰。”
“你现在这样反倒好，我亲爱的，要是你记得他的命运的话。”
“可是即使我过去认识他的话，那么我也不会比现在更痛心的。难道你的悲伤不就是我的悲伤吗？如果我过去认识他的话，那么你在谈到他的时候，也许就会觉得我是你更好的伴侣了。”
“我最亲爱的姐姐！难道我不相信，有什么欢乐你不是跟我共同分享，有什么忧伤你不是跟我共同分担的吗？”
“我希望你相信这一点，约翰，因为情况确实是这样！”
“你在这件事情上或在其他任何事情上，还能对我更好更亲近的吗？”她的弟弟说道，“我觉得你好像过去是认识他的，哈里特，你跟我共同感受着对他的感情。”
她把搁在他肩膀上的手抽回来，搂着他的脖子，迟疑地回答道：
“不，不完全这样。”
“是的，是的，”他说道，“你认为如果我过去允许我自己跟他更亲近一些，我并不会对他不利吗？”
“我认为？不，我了解这一点。”
“天知道，我是不会故意危害他的；”他伤心地摇着头，回答道，“可是他的声誉太宝贵了；我不愿意由于跟他深交而使他的声誉冒着遭受损害的危险；你同意不同意我的这个看法，我亲爱的——？”
“我不同意，”她沉静地说道。
“但这仍然是真实的情况，哈里特；当我回忆起他，想到我过去由于不能接近他而心情沉重痛苦时，我的心情就感到轻松一些。”他在他悲伤的声调中抑制着自己，没有说下去，并向她微笑着，说道，“再见！”
“再见，亲爱的约翰！晚上，在老时间和老地点，我将跟往常一样，在你回家的路途中来接你。再见！”
她向着他的脸，抬起脸来吻他；她这张热诚的脸孔对他来说，是他的家，他的生命，他的宇宙，可是这也是他的惩罚与痛苦的一部分；因为在这张脸上笼罩着的云（虽然它像日落时发出光彩的云一样，晴朗与宁静）中，在她忠诚的献身的精神中，在她抛弃安逸、欢乐和希望而作出的牺牲中，他看到了他过去所犯罪恶的苦果，永远像过去一样成熟与新鲜。
她站在门口，两只手松弛地互相握着，目送着他从房屋前面那个霉臭难闻和高低不平的地块走过去；这块地不久以前曾经一度是一片可爱的草地，如今已变为一片荒野；在垃圾堆上杂乱无章地矗立着许多简陋的小房子，仿佛是由一只笨拙的手把它们播种在那里似的。他回过头来看了一、两次，每当他回过头来看的时候，她的热诚的脸孔就像一缕明亮的光线一样照射在他的心上；但是当他拖着沉重的脚步向前走去、不再看她的时候，她站在那里望着他的背影，眼中却涌出了眼泪。
她没有在门口沉思地、无所事事地站多久。每天的职责必须去完成，每天的工作必须去做——因为这些毫无英雄气概的平凡的人们时常是用他们的双手辛勤工作的——，所以哈里特很快就忙起家务事来。这些事情干完之后，简陋的房子被收拾得十分干净、整齐，这时她神色忧虑地数了数手头少量的钱，然后若有所思地去买餐桌上所需的食品，一边走一边盘算着怎样节省一些。是的，这些地位低微的人们的生活是这样悲惨可怜，他们不仅在他们的男仆与女仆的眼中不是英雄，①而且既没有男仆也没有女仆去让他们逞英雄！
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①仆人眼中无英雄（Nomanisaherotohisvalet）：是英国的一句谚语。
当她离开家，屋子里一个人也没有的时候，从与她弟弟不同的一条路上走来一位先生；他年纪也许刚刚过了壮年，但脸色红润、健康，身材挺直，神情高兴、开朗，态度和蔼、善良。他的眉毛还是黑的，头发有好多也是黑的，但中间夹杂着零星白发，这使他的眉毛显得十分优美，并鲜明地衬托出他宽阔、开朗的前额和诚实的眼睛。
这位先生在门上敲了一下，没有得到回答，就在门廊里的长凳上坐下等候。当他在哼着曲子并在身旁的凳子上打着拍子的时候，他手指的熟练的动作似乎显示出他是一位音乐家。他哼着一支很慢很长、无法识别曲调的歌曲，哼得非常高兴，从这点来看，似乎他是个精通音乐的内行。
当哈里特出现在回来的路上时，他仍在发展着主旋律；这主旋律似乎在不断旋转着，旋转着，旋转着，一层层地深入，深入，再深入，好像一个在桌子上滴溜溜旋转的螺旋锥一样，一直在围绕着自己打转，没有个完。他看到她走来，就站起身来，脱了帽子站着。
“您又来了，先生！”她结结巴巴地说道。
“我很冒昧，”他回答道，“我可不可以打扰您五分钟？”
她犹豫了一下子，然后开了门，领他到小客厅里去。这位先生在那里把椅子拉近桌边，坐在她的对面，并用跟他的外表十分相称的和很可爱的纯朴态度说道：
“哈里特小姐，您是不会骄傲的。那天早上我到这里来的时候，您向我表示，您是骄傲的。请原谅我，如果我告诉您，当您那天这样说的时候，我看着您的脸孔，您的脸孔否定了您的话。我现在又看着您的脸孔，”他把手在她的胳膊上放了一下子，亲切地接下去说道，“它愈加否定了您的话。”
她有些发窘和激动，没有想出什么话来回答。
“您的脸孔是真诚与温柔的镜子，”客人说道，“请原谅，我相信它，并回答了它。”
他讲这些话时的神态完全不像是客气地恭维。他十分坦率，认真，自然和真诚，因此她低下了头，仿佛想要感谢他并承认他是怀着诚意的。
“我们年龄上的差异，”那位先生说道，“以及我的坦诚的目的使我有权利坦率地说出我的心里话；想到这一点我很高兴。我心里的话都说出来了，所以您又第二次看到了我。”
“有一种骄傲，先生，”她沉默了一会儿之后，说道，“或者可以把它当作骄傲吧，可是实际上它仅仅是责任。我希望，除此之外，我并不怀有其他的骄傲。”
“为您自己而感到骄傲吗？”他问道。
“为我自己。”
“可是——请原谅我——”那位先生迟疑地说道，“您为您的弟弟约翰感到骄傲吗？”
“我为他的爱而感到骄傲，”哈里特凝视着她的客人说道，忽然她改变了态度——并不是她的态度不像先前那样沉着和平静，而是在她的态度中有一种深刻的、热情的、认真的精神，这使得连她颤抖的也表明了她的坚定，“我也为他感到骄傲。先生，您不知怎么的知道他的历史，上一次到这里来的时候还把它重新讲给我听——”
“那仅仅是为了取得您的信任，”这位先生打断她说道，“请您千万别以为——”
“我相信，”她说道，“您是怀着善良的、值得称许的目的对我重新提起它的。我完全相信这一点。”
“谢谢您，”她的客人急忙握着她的手，回答道，“我十分感谢您。我肯定地对您说，您对我是公正的。我，知道约翰的历史，——”
“当我说我为他感到骄傲的时候，您可能会责备我骄傲，”她继续说道，“我确实是为他感到骄傲的！您知道，过去有一段时候我没有为他感到骄傲，——那时候我不可能为他感到骄傲，——可是那已经过去了。忍受多年屈辱，毫无怨言地赎罪，衷心地忏悔，深深地遗憾，甚至，我知道，我对他的爱也造成了他的痛苦，他认为我为了爱他付出了高昂的代价，其实，天知道，除了他的不幸使我难过外，我是完全幸福的！——啊，先生，在我眼见到一切之后，我恳求您，如果您一旦有了权力，有人对您犯了罪过，那么，不管是什么样的罪过，您都别对他处以无法挽回的处罚；因为这时候上帝正在天上促使他所创造的心灵改邪归正呢！”
“您的弟弟已变成另外一个人了，”那位先生同情地回答道，“我向您肯定地说，我毫不怀疑这一点。”
“当他犯了罪的时候，他变成了另外一个人，”哈里特说道，“他现在又成了另外一个人，恢复了他的真实面貌。请相信我，先生。”
“可是我们照旧生活着，”她的客人心不在焉地擦着前额，然后若有所思地敲打着桌子，说道，“我们一天一天，按照一成不变的常规生活着，不可能发现或注视这些变化。它们——它们是形而上学一类的东西。我们——我们没有闲暇来研究它。我们——我们没有勇气。在学校或学院里不教它们。我们也不知道怎样着手。总而言之，我们都是些该——死的事务家。”那位先生说道，一边神情极为不满和烦恼地走到窗口，又走回来，重新坐下。
“说实在的，”那位先生又擦着前额，并像先前一样敲打着桌子，说道，“我很有理由相信，这种一天又一天同一个模式的生活会使一个人甘心迁就任何事情。什么也看不见，什么也听不到，什么也不知道，这是事实。我们把一切都认为是理所当然的，我们就这样生活着，直到我们不论做什么事，好的、坏的、不好不坏的，我们都是根据习惯去做。当我躺在临终的床上，要求对着良心为我自己辩护的时候，我只能把一切都说成是习惯。‘习惯，’我说，‘由于习惯，我过去对千百万的事情都是耳聋、口哑、眼瞎、感觉麻痹’。‘先生，您叫什么名字？的确，您是个忙忙碌碌的事务家，’良心说，‘可是它在这里无济于事！’”
那位先生站起来，又走到窗口和走回来；虽然他是采用这样独特的方式来表示他的忧虑不安，但他确实是非常忧虑不安。
“哈里特小姐，”他重新在椅子上坐下，说道，“我希望您能允许我为您帮点忙。请看着我，我的神态应当是诚实的。因为我知道我是诚实的。是不是这样？”
“是的，”她微笑着回答道。
“我相信您所讲的每句话。”他回答道，“我深深地责怪自己，十二年来我本可以了解这一点，看见这一点，本可以了解您，看见您，可是我却没有认识，没有看见。我真不知道我是怎么到这里来的。——我不仅成了我自己习惯的奴隶，而且成了别人习惯的奴隶！可是既然我已到这里来了，就请允许我做点事情。我以所有的道义和尊敬向您请求。您极大地激励了我的道义和尊敬。请允许我做点事情吧。”
“我们并不需要什么，先生。”
“不，不，不完全这样，”那位先生回答道，“我认为不完全这样。有一些小小的生活舒适用品可以使您的生活和他的生活过得愉快一些。和他的生活！”他以为这已在她心上产生了一些印象，就重复了最后这句话，“我过去总是习惯地认为，不需要为他做什么事情了，一切都已解决和过去了，总之我根本就没有想过这个问题。现在我跟过去不一样了，请允许我为他做点什么事情吧。也为您做点事情。”客人关切、体贴地说道，“为了他的缘故，您必须很好地保重您的身体，我担心它已经衰弱了。”
“不管您是什么人，先生，”哈里特抬起眼睛望着他的脸，说道，“我都深深地感谢您。我确实感到，您所讲的一切，都是想为我们好，并不追求其他目的。可是我们过这种生活已有很多年头了。要从我弟弟那里把他对我来说十分宝贵的、并已确实证明是他的坚强决心的东西取走一星半点，要把他在没有得到帮助、默默无闻、被人遗忘的情况下进行赎罪而表现出的优秀品质取走一星半点，那么当您刚才讲到的那个时刻降临到我们面前的时候，它都会减少他和我将会感到的安慰。我的这些眼泪比任何语言都更能表达我对您的感谢。请您相信这一点。”
那位先生被感动了，他把她伸出的手拉到他的嘴唇上，非常像一位慈爱的父亲吻一个孝顺的女儿的手一样。
“如果有一天他部分地恢复他所失去的地位，”哈里特说道。
“恢复！”那位先生很快地喊道，“怎么能希望发生这样的事情？恢复的权力掌握在谁的手里？我想，他得到了他生活中无价的幸福，这是他弟弟对他显示敌意的一个原因。我的这个想法一定没有错。”
“您提到了一个我们两人从来不谈的问题，甚至在我们两人之间也是从来不谈的，”哈里特说道。
“我请您原谅，”来访的客人说道，“我应当知道这点才好。我请求您忘掉我由于疏忽而提到它了。现在，我不敢再劝您一定接受我的建议——因为我不太清楚，我是不是有权利这样做——虽然天知道，甚至这种怀疑也是一种习惯，”那位先生又像刚才一样失望地擦着前额，说道，“我对您来说是一位陌生人，但同时也不算是个陌生人，请允许我请求您答应我的两点请求。”
“是什么？”她问道。
“第一点，如果您认为有理由改变您的决心，那么请允许我成为您的左右手，那时候我将把我的姓名告诉您，听随您呼唤。现在告诉您没有用，而且我的姓名是微不足道的。”
“我们选择朋友，并不是郑重得了不得，需要我花时间考虑一番才行。”她微微露出笑容，回答道，“我可以答应这一点。”
“第二点，请您允许我有时，就说每星期一早上九点钟吧——又是习惯——我一定是个循规蹈矩的人了，”那位先生说道，他奇怪地喜爱在这方面责怪自己，“请允许我走过这里，看到您在门口或窗口。我并不请求进来，因为那时您弟弟不在家。我并不请求跟您谈话。我只是为使伐自己安心，请让我看到您身体健康，同时毫不强迫地提醒您，您有一位朋友——一位年纪很大的朋友，他的头发已经斑白，很快就会变得更白——您随时可以嘱咐他为您效劳。”
那张恳挚的脸孔抬起来，信任地望着他的脸孔。她答应了他的请求。
“像先前一样，我知道，”那位先生站起身来，说道，“您不准备把我的访问告诉约翰•卡克，以免他因为我知道他的历史而苦恼。我对这感到很高兴，因为这越出了事物通常的轨道和——习惯，又是习惯！”那位先生不耐烦地中断了自己的话，说道，“仿佛除了通常的轨道之外，就没有更好的轨道似的！”
他一边说着这些话，一边转过身子，手里拿着帽子，走到那条小门廊的外面，无限尊敬和真诚关切地向她告辞；这种尊敬和关切不是任何教养所能教出来，而只有纯洁与诚实的心才能表露出来的；它们的真实性是不会引起任何怀疑的。
这次访问在这位姐姐的心中唤醒了几乎已被忘却了的许多情感。很久没有客人跨进他们家的门槛，很久没有同情的像悲哀的音乐一样在她耳边鸣响，所以在这以后的好几个钟头中，当她坐在窗口一针一针在辛勤缝着的时候，这位陌生人的形象一直出现在她的眼前；他的话似乎一次又一次地重新说给她听。他已经触动了打开她整个生活的那根心弦；如果说她在一个短时间内忘掉了他，那么那是因为与一个伟大的回忆有关的许多思想把它暂时遮蔽了，整个生命就是从这个伟大的回忆所产生的①。
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①意即：当她思念上帝时暂时把他忘了。
哈里特•卡克交替地沉思着和工作着；有时她强制自己长久地专心于着针线活；有时她又心不在焉地让活计掉落在膝盖上，听任自己涌集的思潮随意奔流；时间就这样在她不知不觉之间悄悄地溜走了。早晨的天空，原先是明亮与晴朗的，现在逐渐遮满了乌云；刺骨的寒风吹刮进来；雨点沉重地落下；黑沉沉的迷雾笼罩着远方的城市，使它看不见了。
每逢这样的时候，她总时常怜悯地望着那些旅客沿着她房屋旁边那条公路艰辛地向伦敦走去；他们的脚已经走痛了，身子已经走累了，正恐惧地望着前面宏伟的城市，仿佛预感到他们在那里的悲惨境遇将只不过是大海中的一滴水或海滩上的一粒沙；他们在狂风暴雨面前心怯胆寒地收缩着身子，看来仿佛大自然也把他们抛弃了似的。一天又一天，这些旅客无力地、迟缓地拖着脚步，不过她觉得总是朝着一个方向——朝着城市的方向走去。似乎有一股猛烈的魔力把他们推进这座无限广大的城市之中的某个部分一样，他们被它吞没了，再也没有回来。他们成为医院、墓地、监狱、河流、热病、疯狂、恶习和死亡的食物，——他们向着在远方吼叫的怪物走去，然后消失了。
寒风在怒号，雨在下着，白天在阴沉地黑下来，这时哈里特眼睛离开她孜孜不倦缝了好久的活计，看着这些走过来的旅客中的一位。
她是一位妇女。一位三十岁光景、孤身一人的妇女；她个子高大，身材端正，容貌漂亮，衣服破烂；在倾盆大雨下，她的灰色斗篷上粘满了许多乡村道路在各种气候中飞溅起来的泥土——灰尘、白垩、粘土、沙砾——；她没有戴帽子；浓密的黑发上除了一块撕破的手绢之外，没有别的东西挡雨；手绢的边端和头发在风中飘动，遮住了她的眼睛，所以她时常停下来把它们推回去，并望着她所前往的道路。
哈里特就在她这样的时候注意到她。她把两手举到晒黑的前额，抹了抹脸，把覆盖在脸上的障碍物挪开；这时候可以看出：她的姿容美丽，但她的性格却是鲁莽轻率、毫无顾虑的；比气候更为严重的事情她也毫无畏缩地置之度外，根本不去考虑自己的道德品行如何；对于从天上或地上抛掷到她的毫无遮盖的头上的一切东西，她都满不在乎。这一切，再加上她的贫穷和孤独，使她的同胞姐妹哈里特的内心深受感动。她想到这位妇女不仅在外表上而且在内心里也是反常的、损坏了的；就像她富于魅力的姿容不像原先那么娇柔一样，她那颗原本朴实优美的心也变得冷酷无情；造物主赋予她的许多高尚的资质都像那些蓬乱的头发一样被风吹走了；暴风雨正在吹打着她那被毁损的美容，夜色即将笼罩着它。
她在想着这一切的时候，并没有嫌恶、愤怒地避开她（在她富于同情心、温柔体贴的女同胞中，过多的人是过于经常这样做的），而是可怜她。
她的堕落的姐妹继续向前走来，直望着远远的前方；锐利的眼睛想要穿透笼罩着城市的迷雾，时常以一个异乡人不知所措和犹豫不决的神情左顾右盼。她的步伐虽然坚决有力，但她已疲倦了。她踌躇了一会儿以后，在一堆石头上坐下，任凭雨落在她身上，不想避开。
她现在正好对着这座房屋。她把头垂落在两只手上休息了一会儿以后，又抬起来，这时她的眼光碰到了哈里特的眼光。
哈里特一会儿就出现在门口；那位妇女听到她的招呼之后，从坐位上站起来，慢吞吞地向她走去，她的态度并不是亲切友好的。
“您为什么在雨里休息呢？”哈里特温柔地问她。
“因为我没有别的地方好休息，”她回答道。
“可是附近有许多可以避雨的地方。这里，”她指着小门廊说，“比您刚才坐的地方好。欢迎您到这里来休息。”
这位妇女怀疑与惊奇地望着她，但没有任何感谢的表情；她坐下来，把一只破烂的鞋子脱掉，倒出里面的碎石和尘土，这时可以看到她的脚已破伤了，正在流血。
当哈里特发出怜悯的喊声时，这位妇女抬起眼睛望着她，露出轻蔑与怀疑的微笑。
“对于像我这样的人来说，一只破伤的脚算得了什么呢？”她说道，“对于像您这样的人来说，我这种人有一只破伤了的脚又算得了什么呢？
“进来洗洗它吧，”哈里特温厚地说道，“我给您一点什么东西把它包扎起来。”
这位妇女抓住她的手，拉到她自己眼睛前面，紧贴着，并哭泣起来。这不像是一位妇女的哭泣，而像是一位性格坚强的男子突然屈从于这种弱点时的哭泣；她的胸脯猛烈地上下起伏，并竭力想恢复常态，这说明她内心的情感是多么不寻常地激动。
她顺从地被引进屋子里，然后显然是出于感激，而不是出于保护自己，冲洗和包扎了伤处。接着，哈里特从她自己微薄的晚饭中分出一些，端到她的面前；当她吃完之后（虽然数量是不多的），哈里特又请求她重新赶路（她急切地想这样做）之前先把衣服在炉火上烤烤干。她又一次出于感激，而不是出于对自己的任何关心，在炉子前面坐下来，把系在头上的手绢解开，让她浓密的、淋湿了的头发垂落到腰下，然后坐在那里，一边用手掌把它搓干，一边看着炉火。
“大概您在想，我过去是漂亮的吧，”她突然抬起头来，说道，“我想我过去是的。我知道我过去是的。请看这里！”
她粗野地用两只手把头发撩起来，抓得紧紧地，仿佛要把它撕断似的；然后又把它放下来，甩到肩后，仿佛这是一堆蛇似的。
“您是不是个外乡人？”哈里特问道。
“外乡人！”她回答道；每说完一个短句，她总要停顿一下，并看着炉火，“不错，当了十年或十多年的外乡人。我没有我在那里居住过的日历。大概是十年或十多年吧。我不认识这个地方。我离开以后，这里发生了很大的变化。”
“您这十来年所在的地方离这里远吗？”
“很远。必须在海上航行好几个月。即使是乘船也是很远的。我是在罪犯流放的地方，”她凝视着招待她的主人，接下去说道，“我自己也是一个犯人。”
“上帝帮助您和宽恕您，”哈里特温柔地回答道。
“啊！上帝帮助我和宽恕我吧！”她向炉火点点头，回答道，“如果人们肯稍稍帮助我们当中的一些人的话，那么上帝也许会更快地宽恕我们所有的人的。”
可是哈里特恳切的态度和她那诚挚的脸孔（这脸孔充满了温柔的情意、丝毫也不责备她）使她温和下来，她不像刚才那样粗鲁地接着说道：
“我们，您和我，也许是相同的年纪吧。如果我比您大一些，那么也不会大出一、两岁。啊，请想一想这一点吧！”
她伸开胳膊，仿佛展示一下她的外形就会表明她过去在道德上曾经堕落到何等地步似的；然后她把胳膊放下来，低垂着头。
“没有什么我们不能补救的事情；改正错误是从来不会太晚的，”哈里特说道，“您已经忏悔了。”
“不，”她回答道，“我没有忏悔！我不能忏悔。我不是这种人。为什么我必须忏悔，而世界上所有的人都在放荡不羁？他们都对我谈到我的忏悔。可是谁忏悔加害于我的罪恶呢？”
她站起来，用手绢把头包扎好之后，转身要走。
“您上哪里去？”哈里特问道。
“那里，”她用手指一指，说道，“上伦敦去。”
“您在伦敦有家吗？”
“我想，我有一个母亲。她也算是个母亲，就像她的住所也算是个家一样，”她苦笑着回答道。
“把这拿去，”哈里特把钱塞到她手里，说道，“好好做人。
钱很少，但也许有一天它会使您避开不幸的。”
“您结婚了吗？”那位妇女收下钱，轻声问道。
“没有。我跟我的弟弟一起住在这里。我们能省出的钱不多，要不我本会多给您一些的。”
“您允许我亲亲您吗？”
这位接受了施舍的妇女看到哈里特脸上没有流露出任何轻蔑与嫌恶的神情，就在提出请求之后弯下身去，把嘴唇紧贴在她的脸颊上。她又一次抓住她的手，遮住她的眼睛，然后离开了。
她走进了愈益深沉的夜，迎着怒吼的狂风和倾盆大雨，向着迷雾笼罩、闪烁着半明半暗的灯光的城市，赶着她的路；乌黑的头发和不整齐的、当作帽子的手绢在她毫无顾虑的脸孔四周飘动着。
Chapter 34
Another Mother and Daughter
In an ugly and dark room, an old woman, ugly and dark too, sat listening to the wind and rain, and crouching over a meagre fire. More constant to the last-named occupation than the first, she never changed her attitude, unless, when any stray drops of rain fell hissing on the smouldering embers, to raise her head with an awakened attention to the whistling and pattering outside, and gradually to let it fall again lower and lower and lower as she sunk into a brooding state of thought, in which the noises of the night were as indistinctly regarded as is the monotonous rolling of a sea by one who sits in contemplation on its shore.
There was no light in the room save that which the fire afforded. Glaring sullenly from time to time like the eye of a fierce beast half asleep, it revealed no objects that needed to be jealous of a better display. A heap of rags, a heap of bones, a wretched bed, two or three mutilated chairs or stools, the black walls and blacker ceiling, were all its winking brightness shone upon. As the old woman, with a gigantic and distorted image of herself thrown half upon the wall behind her, half upon the roof above, sat bending over the few loose bricks within which it was pent, on the damp hearth of the chimney - for there was no stove - she looked as if she were watching at some witch's altar for a favourable token; and but that the movement of her chattering jaws and trembling chin was too frequent and too fast for the slow flickering of the fire, it would have seemed an illusion wrought by the light, as it came and went, upon a face as motionless as the form to which it belonged.
If Florence could have stood within the room and looked upon the original of the shadow thrown upon the wall and roof as it cowered thus over the fire, a glance might have sufficed to recall the figure of Good Mrs Brown; notwithstanding that her childish recollection of that terrible old woman was as grotesque and exaggerated a presentment of the truth, perhaps, as the shadow on the wall. But Florence was not there to look on; and Good Mrs Brown remained unrecognised, and sat staring at her fire, unobserved.
Attracted by a louder sputtering than usual, as the rain came hissing down the chimney in a little stream, the old woman raised her head, impatiently, to listen afresh. And this time she did not drop it again; for there was a hand upon the door, and a footstep in the room.
'Who's that?' she said, looking over her shoulder.
'One who brings you news, was the answer, in a woman's voice.
'News? Where from?'
'From abroad.'
'From beyond seas?' cried the old woman, starting up.
'Ay, from beyond seas.'
The old woman raked the fire together, hurriedly, and going close to her visitor who had entered, and shut the door, and who now stood in the middle of the room, put her hand upon the drenched cloak, and turned the unresisting figure, so as to have it in the full light of the fire. She did not find what she had expected, whatever that might be; for she let the cloak go again, and uttered a querulous cry of disappointment and misery.
'What is the matter?' asked her visitor.
'Oho! Oho!' cried the old woman, turning her face upward, with a terrible howl.
'What is the matter?' asked the visitor again.
'It's not my gal!' cried the old woman, tossing up her arms, and clasping her hands above her head. 'Where's my Alice? Where's my handsome daughter? They've been the death of her!'
'They've not been the death of her yet, if your name's Marwood,' said the visitor.
'Have you seen my gal, then?' cried the old woman. 'Has she wrote to me?'
'She said you couldn't read,' returned the other.
'No more I can!' exclaimed the old woman, wringing her hands.
'Have you no light here?' said the other, looking round the room.
The old woman, mumbling and shaking her head, and muttering to herself about her handsome daughter, brought a candle from a cupboard in the corner, and thrusting it into the fire with a trembling hand, lighted it with some difficulty and set it on the table. Its dirty wick burnt dimly at first, being choked in its own grease; and when the bleared eyes and failing sight of the old woman could distinguish anything by its light, her visitor was sitting with her arms folded, her eyes turned downwards, and a handkerchief she had worn upon her head lying on the table by her side.
'She sent to me by word of mouth then, my gal, Alice?' mumbled the old woman, after waiting for some moments. 'What did she say?'
'Look,' returned the visitor.
The old woman repeated the word in a scared uncertain way; and, shading her eyes, looked at the speaker, round the room, and at the speaker once again.
'Alice said look again, mother;' and the speaker fixed her eyes upon her.
Again the old woman looked round the room, and at her visitor, and round the room once more. Hastily seizing the candle, and rising from her seat, she held it to the visitor's face, uttered a loud cry, set down the light, and fell upon her neck!
'It's my gal! It's my Alice! It's my handsome daughter, living and come back!' screamed the old woman, rocking herself to and fro upon the breast that coldly suffered her embrace. 'It's my gal! It's my Alice! It's my handsome daughter, living and come back!' she screamed again, dropping on the floor before her, clasping her knees, laying her head against them, and still rocking herself to and fro with every frantic demonstration of which her vitality was capable.
'Yes, mother,' returned Alice, stooping forward for a moment and kissing her, but endeavouring, even in the act, to disengage herself from her embrace. 'I am here, at last. Let go, mother; let go. Get up, and sit in your chair. What good does this do?'
'She's come back harder than she went!' cried the mother, looking up in her face, and still holding to her knees. 'She don't care for me! after all these years, and all the wretched life I've led!'
'Why> mother!' said Alice, shaking her ragged skirts to detach the old woman from them: 'there are two sides to that. There have been years for me as well as you, and there has been wretchedness for me as well as you. Get up, get up!'
Her mother rose, and cried, and wrung her hands, and stood at a little distance gazing on her. Then she took the candle again, and going round her, surveyed her from head to foot, making a low moaning all the time. Then she put the candle down, resumed her chair, and beating her hands together to a kind of weary tune, and rolling herself from side to side, continued moaning and wailing to herself.
Alice got up, took off her wet cloak, and laid it aside. That done, she sat down as before, and with her arms folded, and her eyes gazing at the fire, remained silently listening with a contemptuous face to her old mother's inarticulate complainings.
'Did you expect to see me return as youthful as I went away, mother?' she said at length, turning her eyes upon the old woman. 'Did you think a foreign life, like mine, was good for good looks? One would believe so, to hear you!'
'It ain't that!' cried the mother. 'She knows it!'
'What is it then?' returned the daughter. 'It had best be something that don't last, mother, or my way out is easier than my way in.
'Hear that!' exclaimed the mother. 'After all these years she threatens to desert me in the moment of her coming back again!'
'I tell you, mother, for the second time, there have been years for me as well as you,' said Alice. 'Come back harder? Of course I have come back harder. What else did you expect?'
'Harder to me! To her own dear mother!' cried the old woman
'I don't know who began to harden me, if my own dear mother didn't,' she returned, sitting with her folded arms, and knitted brows, and compressed lips as if she were bent on excluding, by force, every softer feeling from her breast. 'Listen, mother, to a word or two. If we understand each other now, we shall not fall out any more, perhaps. I went away a girl, and have come back a woman. I went away undutiful enough, and have come back no better, you may swear. But have you been very dutiful to me?'
'I!' cried the old woman. 'To my gal! A mother dutiful to her own child!'
'It sounds unnatural, don't it?' returned the daughter, looking coldly on her with her stern, regardless, hardy, beautiful face; 'but I have thought of it sometimes, in the course of my lone years, till I have got used to it. I have heard some talk about duty first and last; but it has always been of my duty to other people. I have wondered now and then - to pass away the time - whether no one ever owed any duty to me.
Her mother sat mowing, and mumbling, and shaking her head, but whether angrily or remorsefully, or in denial, or only in her physical infirmity, did not appear.
'There was a child called Alice Marwood,' said the daughter, with a laugh, and looking down at herself in terrible derision of herself, 'born, among poverty and neglect, and nursed in it. Nobody taught her, nobody stepped forward to help her, nobody cared for her.'
'Nobody!' echoed the mother, pointing to herself, and striking her breast.
'The only care she knew,' returned the daughter, 'was to be beaten, and stinted, and abused sometimes; and she might have done better without that. She lived in homes like this, and in the streets, with a crowd of little wretches like herself; and yet she brought good looks out of this childhood. So much the worse for her. She had better have been hunted and worried to death for ugliness.'
'Go on! go on!' exclaimed the mother.
'I am going on,' returned the daughter. 'There was a girl called Alice Marwood. She was handsome. She was taught too late, and taught all wrong. She was too well cared for, too well trained, too well helped on, too much looked after. You were very fond of her - you were better off then. What came to that girl comes to thousands every year. It was only ruin, and she was born to it.'
'After all these years!' whined the old woman. 'My gal begins with this.'
'She'll soon have ended,' said the daughter. 'There was a criminal called Alice Marwood - a girl still, but deserted and an outcast. And she was tried, and she was sentenced. And lord, how the gentlemen in the Court talked about it! and how grave the judge was on her duty, and on her having perverted the gifts of nature - as if he didn't know better than anybody there, that they had been made curses to her! - and how he preached about the strong arm of the Law - so very strong to save her, when she was an innocent and helpless little wretch! - and how solemn and religious it all was! I have thought of that, many times since, to be sure!'
She folded her arms tightly on her breast, and laughed in a tone that made the howl of the old woman musical.
'So Alice Marwood was transported, mother,' she pursued, 'and was sent to learn her duty, where there was twenty times less duty, and more wickedness, and wrong, and infamy, than here. And Alice Marwood is come back a woman. Such a woman as she ought to be, after all this. In good time, there will be more solemnity, and more fine talk, and more strong arm, most likely, and there will be an end of her; but the gentlemen needn't be afraid of being thrown out of work. There's crowds of little wretches, boy and girl, growing up in any of the streets they live in, that'll keep them to it till they've made their fortunes.'
The old woman leaned her elbows on the table, and resting her face upon her two hands, made a show of being in great distress - or really was, perhaps.
'There! I have done, mother,' said the daughter, with a motion of her head, as if in dismissal of the subject. 'I have said enough. Don't let you and I talk of being dutiful, whatever we do. Your childhood was like mine, I suppose. So much the worse for both of us. I don't want to blame you, or to defend myself; why should I? That's all over long ago. But I am a woman - not a girl, now - and you and I needn't make a show of our history, like the gentlemen in the Court. We know all about it, well enough.'
Lost and degraded as she was, there was a beauty in her, both of face and form, which, even in its worst expression, could not but be recognised as such by anyone regarding her with the least attention. As she subsided into silence, and her face which had been harshly agitated, quieted down; while her dark eyes, fixed upon the fire, exchanged the reckless light that had animated them, for one that was softened by something like sorrow; there shone through all her wayworn misery and fatigue, a ray of the departed radiance of the fallen angel.'
Her mother, after watching her for some time without speaking, ventured to steal her withered hand a little nearer to her across the table; and finding that she permitted this, to touch her face, and smooth her hair. With the feeling, as it seemed, that the old woman was at least sincere in this show of interest, Alice made no movement to check her; so, advancing by degrees, she bound up her daughter's hair afresh, took off her wet shoes, if they deserved the name, spread something dry upon her shoulders, and hovered humbly about her, muttering to herself, as she recognised her old features and expression more and more.
'You are very poor, mother, I see,' said Alice, looking round, when she had sat thus for some time.
'Bitter poor, my deary,' replied the old woman.
She admired her daughter, and was afraid of her. Perhaps her admiration, such as it was, had originated long ago, when she first found anything that was beautiful appearing in the midst of the squalid fight of her existence. Perhaps her fear was referable, in some sort, to the retrospect she had so lately heard. Be this as it might, she stood, submissively and deferentially, before her child, and inclined her head, as if in a pitiful entreaty to be spared any further reproach.
'How have you lived?'
'By begging, my deary.
'And pilfering, mother?'
'Sometimes, Ally - in a very small way. I am old and timid. I have taken trifles from children now and then, my deary, but not often. I have tramped about the country, pet, and I know what I know. I have watched.'
'Watched?' returned the daughter, looking at her.
'I have hung about a family, my deary,' said the mother, even more humbly and submissively than before.
'What family?'
'Hush, darling. Don't be angry with me. I did it for the love of you. In memory of my poor gal beyond seas.' She put out her hand deprecatingly, and drawing it back again, laid it on her lips.
'Years ago, my deary,' she pursued, glancing timidly at the attentive and stem face opposed to her, 'I came across his little child, by chance.'
'Whose child?'
'Not his, Alice deary; don't look at me like that; not his. How could it be his? You know he has none.'
'Whose then?' returned the daughter. 'You said his.'
'Hush, Ally; you frighten me, deary. Mr Dombey's - only Mr Dombey's. Since then, darling, I have seen them often. I have seen him.'
In uttering this last word, the old woman shrunk and recoiled, as if with sudden fear that her daughter would strike her. But though the daughter's face was fixed upon her, and expressed the most vehement passion, she remained still: except that she clenched her arms tighter and tighter within each other, on her bosom, as if to restrain them by that means from doing an injury to herself, or someone else, in the blind fury of the wrath that suddenly possessed her.
'Little he thought who I was!' said the old woman, shaking her clenched hand.
'And little he cared!' muttered her daughter, between her teeth.
'But there we were, said the old woman, 'face to face. I spoke to him, and he spoke to me. I sat and watched him as he went away down a long grove of trees: and at every step he took, I cursed him soul and body.'
'He will thrive in spite of that,' returned the daughter disdainfully.
'Ay, he is thriving,' said the mother.
She held her peace; for the face and form before her were unshaped by rage. It seemed as if the bosom would burst with the emotions that strove within it. The effort that constrained and held it pent up, was no less formidable than the rage itself: no less bespeaking the violent and dangerous character of the woman who made it. But it succeeded, and she asked, after a silence:
'Is he married?'
'No, deary,' said the mother.
'Going to be?'
'Not that I know of, deary. But his master and friend is married. Oh, we may give him joy! We may give 'em all joy!' cried the old woman, hugging herself with her lean arms in her exultation. 'Nothing but joy to us will come of that marriage. Mind met'
The daughter looked at her for an explanation.
'But you are wet and tired; hungry and thirsty,' said the old woman, hobbling to the cupboard; 'and there's little here, and little' - diving down into her pocket, and jingling a few half- pence on the table - 'little here. Have you any money, Alice, deary?'
The covetous, sharp, eager face, with which she 'asked the question and looked on, as her daughter took out of her bosom the little gift she had so lately received, told almost as much of the history of this parent and child as the child herself had told in words.
'Is that all?' said the mother.
'I have no more. I should not have this, but for charity.'
'But for charity, eh, deary?' said the old woman, bending greedily over the table to look at the money, which she appeared distrustful of her daughter's still retaining in her hand, and gazing on. 'Humph! six and six is twelve, and six eighteen - so - we must make the most of it. I'll go buy something to eat and drink.'
With greater alacrity than might have been expected in one of her appearance - for age and misery seemed to have made her as decrepit as ugly - she began to occupy her trembling hands in tying an old bonnet on her head, and folding a torn shawl about herself: still eyeing the money in her daughter's hand, with the same sharp desire.
'What joy is to come to us of this marriage, mother?' asked the daughter. 'You have not told me that.'
'The joy,' she replied, attiring herself, with fumbling fingers, 'of no love at all, and much pride and hate, my deary. The joy of confusion and strife among 'em, proud as they are, and of danger - danger, Alice!'
'What danger?'
'I have seen what I have seen. I know what I know!' chuckled the mother. 'Let some look to it. Let some be upon their guard. My gal may keep good company yet!'
Then, seeing that in the wondering earnestness with which her daughter regarded her, her hand involuntarily closed upon the money, the old woman made more speed to secure it, and hurriedly added, 'but I'll go buy something; I'll go buy something.'
As she stood with her hand stretched out before her daughter, her daughter, glancing again at the money, put it to her lips before parting with it.
'What, Ally! Do you kiss it?' chuckled the old woman. 'That's like me - I often do. Oh, it's so good to us!' squeezing her own tarnished halfpence up to her bag of a throat, 'so good to us in everything but not coming in heaps!'
'I kiss it, mother,' said the daughter, 'or I did then - I don't know that I ever did before - for the giver's sake.'
'The giver, eh, deary?' retorted the old woman, whose dimmed eyes glistened as she took it. 'Ay! I'll kiss it for the giver's sake, too, when the giver can make it go farther. But I'll go spend it, deary. I'll be back directly.'
'You seem to say you know a great deal, mother,' said the daughter, following her to the door with her eyes. 'You have grown very wise since we parted.'
'Know!' croaked the old woman, coming back a step or two, 'I know more than you think I know more than he thinks, deary, as I'll tell you by and bye. I know all'
The daughter smiled incredulously.
'I know of his brother, Alice,' said the old woman, stretching out her neck with a leer of malice absolutely frightful, 'who might have been where you have been - for stealing money - and who lives with his sister, over yonder, by the north road out of London.'
'Where?'
'By the north road out of London, deary. You shall see the house if you like. It ain't much to boast of, genteel as his own is. No, no, no,' cried the old woman, shaking her head and laughing; for her daughter had started up, 'not now; it's too far off; it's by the milestone, where the stones are heaped; - to-morrow, deary, if it's fine, and you are in the humour. But I'll go spend - '
'Stop!' and the daughter flung herself upon her, with her former passion raging like a fire. 'The sister is a fair-faced Devil, with brown hair?'
The old woman, amazed and terrified, nodded her head.
'I see the shadow of him in her face! It's a red house standing by itself. Before the door there is a small green porch.'
Again the old woman nodded.
'In which I sat to-day! Give me back the money.'
'Alice! Deary!'
'Give me back the money, or you'll be hurt.'
She forced it from the old woman's hand as she spoke, and utterly indifferent to her complainings and entreaties, threw on the garments she had taken off, and hurried out, with headlong speed.
The mother followed, limping after her as she could, and expostulating with no more effect upon her than upon the wind and rain and darkness that encompassed them. Obdurate and fierce in her own purpose, and indifferent to all besides, the daughter defied the weather and the distance, as if she had known no travel or fatigue, and made for the house where she had been relieved. After some quarter of an hour's walking, the old woman, spent and out of breath, ventured to hold by her skirts; but she ventured no more, and they travelled on in silence through the wet and gloom. If the mother now and then uttered a word of complaint, she stifled it lest her daughter should break away from her and leave her behind; and the daughter was dumb.
It was within an hour or so of midnight, when they left the regular streets behind them, and entered on the deeper gloom of that neutral ground where the house was situated. The town lay in the distance, lurid and lowering; the bleak wind howled over the open space; all around was black, wild, desolate.
'This is a fit place for me!' said the daughter, stopping to look back. 'I thought so, when I was here before, to-day.'
'Alice, my deary,' cried the mother, pulling her gently by the skirt. 'Alice!'
'What now, mother?'
'Don't give the money back, my darling; please don't. We can't afford it. We want supper, deary. Money is money, whoever gives it. Say what you will, but keep the money.'
'See there!' was all the daughter's answer. 'That is the house I mean. Is that it?'
The old woman nodded in the affirmative; and a few more paces brought them to the threshold. There was the light of fire and candle in the room where Alice had sat to dry her clothes; and on her knocking at the door, John Carker appeared from that room.
He was surprised to see such visitors at such an hour, and asked Alice what she wanted.
'I want your sister,' she said. 'The woman who gave me money to-day.'
At the sound of her raised voice, Harriet came out.
'Oh!' said Alice. 'You are here! Do you remember me?'
'Yes,' she answered, wondering.
The face that had humbled itself before her, looked on her now with such invincible hatred and defiance; and the hand that had gently touched her arm, was clenched with such a show of evil purpose, as if it would gladly strangle her; that she drew close to her brother for protection.
'That I could speak with you, and not know you! That I could come near you, and not feel what blood was running in your veins, by the tingling of my own!' said Alice, with a menacing gesture.
'What do you mean? What have I done?'
'Done!' returned the other. 'You have sat me by your fire; you have given me food and money; you have bestowed your compassion on me! You! whose name I spit upon!'
The old woman, with a malevolence that made her uglIness quite awful, shook her withered hand at the brother and sister in confirmation of her daughter, but plucked her by the skirts again, nevertheless, imploring her to keep the money.
'If I dropped a tear upon your hand, may it wither it up! If I spoke a gentle word in your hearing, may it deafen you! If I touched you with my lips, may the touch be poison to you! A curse upon this roof that gave me shelter! Sorrow and shame upon your head! Ruin upon all belonging to you!'
As she said the words, she threw the money down upon the ground, and spurned it with her foot.
'I tread it in the dust: I wouldn't take it if it paved my way to Heaven! I would the bleeding foot that brought me here to-day, had rotted off, before it led me to your house!'
Harriet, pale and trembling, restrained her brother, and suffered her to go on uninterrupted.
'It was well that I should be pitied and forgiven by you, or anyone of your name, in the first hour of my return! It was well that you should act the kind good lady to me! I'll thank you when I die; I'll pray for you, and all your race, you may be sure!'
With a fierce action of her hand, as if she sprinkled hatred on the ground, and with it devoted those who were standing there to destruction, she looked up once at the black sky, and strode out into the wild night.
The mother, who had plucked at her skirts again and again in vain, and had eyed the money lying on the threshold with an absorbing greed that seemed to concentrate her faculties upon it, would have prowled about, until the house was dark, and then groped in the mire on the chance of repossessing herself of it. But the daughter drew her away, and they set forth, straight, on their return to their dwelling; the old woman whimpering and bemoaning their loss upon the road, and fretfully bewailing, as openly as she dared, the undutiful conduct of her handsome girl in depriving her of a supper, on the very first night of their reunion.
Supperless to bed she went, saving for a few coarse fragments; and those she sat mumbling and munching over a scrap of fire, long after her undutiful daughter lay asleep.
Were this miserable mother, and this miserable daughter, only the reduction to their lowest grade, of certain social vices sometimes prevailing higher up? In this round world of many circles within circles, do we make a weary journey from the high grade to the low, to find at last that they lie close together, that the two extremes touch, and that our journey's end is but our starting-place? Allowing for great difference of stuff and texture, was the pattern of this woof repeated among gentle blood at all?
Say, Edith Dombey! And Cleopatra, best of mothers, let us have your testimony!
在一间丑陋和黑黑的房间里，一位也是丑陋和黑黑的老太婆坐在那里，一边听着风雨的，一边蜷曲着身子，在微弱的炉火旁边取暖。她对取暖比对听风雨专心，从不改变她的姿势，除非偶尔掉下的雨点在闪燃着的灰烬上发出嘶嘶的时，她才抬起头，重新注意到外面呼啸的风声和嗒嗒地下着的雨声，然后又让头低垂着，低垂着，低垂着，陷入沉思的状态中；这时候她对夜间嘈杂的，就像一个坐在海边沉思的人对海浪滚滚的单调一样，并没有清楚地听进耳朵里去。
房间里除了炉火的光之外，没有别的光。炉火像一头半睡着的猛兽的眼睛一样，不时不乐意地闪一闪亮光，映照出了一些决不需要更好照出的物品。一堆破布，一堆骨头，一张破烂的床，两、三条破损的椅子或凳子，乌黑的墙和更加乌黑的天花板——这就是炉火闪烁的亮光所能照射到的一切。老太婆的巨大的、扭曲了的影子一半投射在她身后的墙上，一半投射在头顶的天花板上；这里没有壁炉；而只有烟囱；当她这样弯曲着身子坐在那里，面对着圈围着炉火的潮湿的烟囱炉膛上的几块松动的砖头时，她看去就仿佛是在女巫的祭坛前面期待着得到一个吉利的征兆似的；跟火焰徐缓的闪烁比较起来，她的牙齿发出卡嗒卡嗒响声的嘴巴和颤抖的下巴如果不是动作得太频繁和太快的话，人们本可能会以为，这只不过是那一亮一灭的光线照射在那张跟身体一样一动不动的脸上所产生的幻影罢了。
如果弗洛伦斯这时站在这间房间里，注视着这位在炉火旁边缩着身子、把影子投射到墙上和天花板上的人的话，那么她只需看一眼，就能回想起善良的布朗太太，尽管她对这位可怕的老太婆的回忆是一个孩子的回忆，它也许就像墙上的影子一样奇异，一样夸张，不符合真实的情景。可是弗洛伦斯不在这里，善良的布朗太太仍然没有被认出来；她坐在那里，凝视着炉火，谁也没有注意到她。
雨水的细流发出嘶嘶的，沿着烟囱流下来；老太婆被一声比平时更响的爆裂声所惊起，不耐烦地抬起头来，重新听着。这一次她没有把头再低下来；因为有谁轻轻地推开门，房间里听到了走进的脚步声。
“是谁？”她回过头去问道。
“给您捎消息来的人，”一个女人的回答道。
“消息？哪里来的消息？”
“外国来的。”
“是海外来的吗？”老太婆惊跳起来，喊道。
“是的，是海外来的。”
老太婆急忙把煤火耙拢，走到这时已关上门、走进来、站在房间中间的客人的跟前，把手放到她湿透了的斗篷上，把这位不加抗拒的女人的身子转过来，好让火光充分照射到她。不管她所期望的是什么，她的期望落空了；因为她又放开斗篷、气忿忿地发出了一声失望与痛苦的喊叫。
“怎么回事？”客人问道。
“嗬嗬！嗬嗬！”老太婆仰着脸，可怕地嚎啕大哭起来。
“怎么回事？”客人又问道。
“这不是我的女儿！”老太婆把胳膊往上一举，在头顶紧紧地握着手，哭道，“我的艾丽斯在哪里？我漂亮的女儿在哪里？他们把她给弄死了！”
“他们还没有把她弄死，如果您姓马伍德的话，”客人说道。
“这么说，您看到过我的女儿了吗？”老太婆喊道，“她给我写信了吗？”
“她说您不认得字，”客人回答道。
“我现在也还是不认得！”老太婆使劲地绞扭着双手，高声喊道。
“您这里没有蜡烛吗？”客人向房间四处环视了一下，问道。
老太婆闭着嘴用牙根咀嚼着，同时摇着头，又喃喃自语地说着她漂亮的女儿，一边从角落里的碗柜中取出一支蜡烛，用颤抖的手把它插进炉火，费劲地点亮了，然后把它放在桌子上。肮脏的烛心起初因为被溶流的油脂堵住，火光幽暗不明。当老太婆昏花的眼睛和衰弱的视力借着亮光能够看清东西的时候，她的客人已经坐下，交叉着胳膊，低垂着眼睛；她曾经系在头上的手绢已摊放在她身旁的桌子上。
“这么说，我的女儿艾丽斯，她托您给我捎口信来了？”老太婆等了一会儿之后，嘟嘟囔囔地问道。“她说些什么？”
“您看吧，”客人说道。
老太婆惊愕地、捉摸不准地重复地说了这几个字；她用手遮着眼睛，向说话的人看看，向房间四下里看看，又重新向说话的人看看。
“艾丽斯说，请您再看看，妈妈，”说话的人目不转睛地注视着她。
老太婆又向房间四下里看看，向客人看看，又重新向房间四下里看看。她急忙从坐位上站起来，拿起蜡烛，把客人的脸孔照了照，高声地喊叫了一声，放下蜡烛，搂抱着客人的脖子。
“这是我的女儿！这是我的艾丽斯！这是我漂亮的女儿，活着回来了！”老太婆尖声喊叫着，一边对着她女儿的胸脯，一前一后地摇晃着她自己；她女儿冷淡地听随她拥抱。“这是我的女儿！这是我的艾丽斯！这是我漂亮的女儿，活着回来了！”她又尖声地喊叫着，一边倒在她面前的地板上，抱着她的膝盖，把头紧靠着它们，并像先前一样，用她的体力所能表现出的狂热的劲头，一前一后地摇晃着她自己。
“是的，妈妈，”艾丽斯弯下身子，吻了吻她，回答道，可是甚至在这片刻的动作之间，她还是竭力想摆脱她的拥抱。
“我终于到这里来了。放手吧，妈妈，放手吧。起来，坐到你的椅子上去。这样有什么好处？”
“她回来的时候比离开的时候更冷酷无情了！”母亲仰望着她的脸孔，并依旧抱住她的膝盖，高声喊道，“她不关心我！
经过这许多年头，我度过了这么悲惨可怜的生活之后！”
“得了吧，妈妈！”艾丽斯抖动着她破烂的裙子，摆脱开老太婆，说道，“别只看到你那一方面，还有我这一方面呢！这些年头不仅是你度过的，也是我度过的；悲惨可怜的生活，不仅你有，我也一样有。起来吧，起来吧！”
母亲站起来，哭着，使劲地绞扭着双手，稍微离开一点，注视着她；接着，她又拿着蜡烛，绕着她走，从头到脚打量着她，同时轻声哭泣着。然后，她放下蜡烛，重新坐到椅子上，拍着巴掌，好像给一支拖得很长的歌曲打拍子似的，同时身子一左一右地摇晃着，并继续在独自低泣和痛哭着。
艾丽斯站起来，脱掉潮湿的斗篷，把它放在一边。在这之后，她又跟先前一样坐下来，交叉着两只胳膊，眼睛凝视着炉火，露出轻蔑的脸色，一声不响地听着她老母亲口齿不清的怨言。
“你是不是指望我回来的时候跟我离开的时候一样年轻，妈妈？”她把眼光投射到老太婆身上，终于开口说道，“你是不是以为像我在外国所过的生活会使一个人漂亮起来？说实在的，谁要是听了你的话，真会这么想呢！”
“问题不在这里！”母亲喊道，“她自己明白！”
“那么问题在哪里呢？”女儿回答道，“有些话你最好别唠叨了。妈妈，要知道，我出去比进来容易。”
“听听她讲的话吧！”母亲高声喊道，“经过这许多年头之后，她刚回来就吓唬着又要把我抛弃了！”
“妈妈，我再说一遍，这些年头不仅是你度过的，也是我度过的。”艾丽斯说道，“回来更冷酷无情了？当然，我回来是更冷酷无情了。除此之外，你还指望什么呢？”
“对我更冷酷无情了！对她自己的亲妈妈！”老太婆喊道。
“我不知道是谁开始使我冷酷无情起来的，如果不是我自己的亲妈妈的话，”她坐着回答道，一边交叉着两只胳膊，皱着眉头，紧闭着嘴唇，仿佛决心把任何温柔的感情从心中驱除出去似的，“你听我说几句话，妈妈。如果我们现在相互了解的话，那么也许我们以后就不会再吵架了。我离开家的时候是个女孩子，现在回来是个女人了。我离开家的时候，对你很不孝顺，没有尽到我做女儿的责任；现在回来了，你可以怒骂说，我没有比过去好一点。可是你过去曾经对我充分尽到你做母亲的责任了吗？”
“我！”老太婆喊道，“对我的女儿！做妈妈的对自己亲生女儿尽责任！”
“你听起来觉得奇怪，是不是？”女儿回答道；她那严厉的、不顾一切的、冷酷无情的、美丽可爱的脸孔冷冰冰地看着她，“可是我在我那些孤独的岁月中有时曾想到这一点，直到后来我对这已经习惯了为止。总的说来，我曾经听有些人谈论责任；可是总是谈到我对别人的责任。我时常纳闷——我想这些事是为了消磨时间——，是不是就没有人对我尽到责任呢？”
母亲坐在那里皱着眉头，闭着嘴用牙根咀嚼着，并摇着头，但不知道这是表示愤怒、懊悔、否认，还是仅仅是身体虚弱的表现。
“从前有一个女孩子，名叫艾丽斯•马伍德，”女儿大笑了一声，并用可怕的自我嘲笑的眼色打量着自己，说道，“她在贫穷与没有照管中出生和长大。没有一个人教育她，没有一个人前来帮助她，没有一个人关怀她。”
“没有一个人！”母亲指着自己和敲着她的胸脯，同时重复着她的话，说道。
“她所得到的唯一的照顾，”女儿回答道，“就是有时挨打，挨饿和挨骂；要是没有这种照顾，她可能反会好一些。她住在这样家里和住在街上，跟一群像她一样可怜的孩子一起生活；可是尽管度过了这样的童年时代，她却还是长成了一个美人儿。这对她更糟了。她宁肯由于长得丑陋而被迫害和虐待一辈子。”
“说下去！说下去！”母亲大声喊道。
“我正在说下去，”女儿回答道，“从前有一个女孩子，名叫艾丽斯•马伍德。她长得漂亮。她受到教育太晚了，而且受的全是错误的教育。她受到了太多的关心，受到了太好的训练，得到了太多的帮助，受到了太周到的照顾。你很喜欢她——那时你的生活富裕起来了。在这女孩子身上发生的事情，每年在成千个女孩子身上发生。这只是堕落，她是为这而生下来的。”
“经过这许多年头以后！”老太婆怨诉道，“我的女儿就这样开始！”
“她很快就要讲完了，”女儿说道。“从前有一个罪犯，名叫艾丽斯•马伍德——那时她还是个女孩子，可是却已经被人遗弃了，扔掉了。对她进行了审讯，将她判了刑。天主呀，那些法庭上的大人先生们是怎样议论这件事情的！法官是怎样谈到她的责任，谈到她误用了天赋的资质，仿佛他不如其他人清楚：这些天赋的资质已成了她的祸根！他又怎样宣讲着法律强有力的臂膀——是的，当她还是个天真烂漫、无依无靠的小可怜虫的时候，这臂膀是这么强有力地来拯救她！这一切又是多么庄严与虔诚！真的，从那时候起，我好多次地想到这些！”
她把胳膊紧紧地交叉在胸前，高声大笑起来；跟她这种笑声相比，老太婆的嚎啕大哭倒显得是优美悦耳的音乐了。
“艾丽斯•马伍德就这样被流放到海外，妈妈，”她继续说道，“被打发去学习履行她的责任；实际上那里却比这里使人二十倍地忘记自己的责任，那里比这里多二十倍的邪恶、堕落与丑行。艾丽斯•马伍德回来的时候已成了一个女人，一个经过这一切之后所应当成为的女人。到一定的时候，非常可能，她将会在更庄严的气氛中听到更漂亮的谈话，看到更有力的臂膀向她伸过来，她的末日也就将来临了；但是那些大人先生们不用害怕失业。就在他们所住的任何一条街道上，又有一大群可怜的男女孩子成长起来，所以他们又将有工作好做，直到发财致富为止。”
老太婆把胳膊肘支在桌子上，用两只手托着脸孔，装出一副十分痛苦的样子——或许真的很痛苦也说不定。
“好了，我讲完了，妈妈，”女儿摇了摇头，仿佛也结束了这个话题似地说道，“我已经说够了。不论我们做什么，你和我今后都别再谈什么尽责任的问题了。我想，你的童年也跟我的童年相似。那样对我们两人就更不好了。我不想责怪你，也不想为我自己辩护。我为什么要这样做呢？这是好久以前就已过去的事了。但是我现在是个女人，不是个女孩子了，你和我都用不着像法庭上的大人先生们那样去把我们的历史抖搂出来，我们对它一清二楚。”
她虽然已经堕落了，道德败坏了，但在她的脸孔与身姿中仍然有一种美丽；甚至在它表露得最不好的时候，对她最漠不关心的人也不能不觉察到。当她沉默下来、她先前十分激动的脸孔平静下来的时候，她凝视着炉火的乌黑的眼睛原先射出了不顾一切的眼光，现在已换成了某种类似忧虑而和缓下来的眼光；这时候一位堕落了的天使的曾经消失的光辉，通过她长途跋涉之后的痛苦与疲乏，照耀出来。
母亲默默无言地向她注视了一些时候之后，大胆地把满是皱纹的手向桌子对面她的身上悄悄伸过去；当她看到女儿允许她这样做的时候，就摸摸她的脸孔，把她的头发抚平。艾丽斯似乎感觉到老太婆这关怀的表示至少是真心诚意的，所以一动不动，没有去阻止她；老太婆得一步进一步，她把女儿的头发重新编扎起来，把它湿漉漉的鞋子（如果它们还可以称为鞋子的话）脱掉，在她肩上披上点什么干的东西，并低声下气地在她身边来回忙碌着；当她愈来愈多地认出她过去的一些特征和表情的时候，就嘟嘟囔囔地自言自语着。
“我看你很穷，妈妈，”艾丽斯这样坐了一些时候之后，向四下里看看，说道。
“穷得可怜，我的宝贝，”老太婆回答道。
她喜爱她的女儿，又怕她的女儿。也许她在好久以前就开始喜爱她了，那时候她正在为生活而进行屈辱的斗争的过程中，第一次注意到女儿的美貌。也许她的害怕跟她刚才听到的往事有些关系。不管怎样，现在她正顺顺从从、恭恭敬敬地站在女儿面前，低着头，仿佛在可怜地恳求她别再责备她。
“你是怎么生活的？”
“向别人讨钱，我的宝贝。”
“偷东西吗，妈妈？”
“有时候也偷，艾丽——偷得不多。我老了，胆子又小。有时候，我的宝贝，我从孩子们身上搞到些小东西，不过不经常。我在附近一带流浪漂泊，心肝，我知道了我所知道的事情。我一直在注意观察着。”
“注意观察着？”女儿看着她，问道。
“我一直在一个家庭附近闲荡，我的宝贝”母亲说道，她甚至比先前更低声下气、更顺顺从从的了。
“哪个家庭？”
“轻一点，我亲爱的。别生我的气，我是因为爱你才那么做的。我那么做是为了想念我在海外的可怜的女儿。”她向她求情地伸过手去，然后又缩回来，放在嘴唇上。
“好多年以前，我的宝贝，”她怯生生地朝对面那张专注而又严厉的脸孔看了一眼，继续说道，“我无意间碰上了他的小女孩。”
“谁的小女孩？”
“不是他的，亲爱的艾丽斯；别那样看我；不是他的。怎么能是他的呢？你知道他没有孩子。”
“那么是谁的呢？”女儿问道，“你刚才说是他的。”
“轻一点，艾丽；你吓了我一跳，我的宝贝。董贝先生的小女儿——只是董贝先生的。从那时候起，亲爱的，我就经常看到他们。我看到•他。”
在说出最后这个字的时候，老太婆往后退却，缩成一团，仿佛害怕女儿会打她似的。可是女儿的脸孔虽然一动不动地对着她，流露出激烈的愤怒的神情，但却依旧静静地坐着，只不过把胳膊愈来愈紧地往胸脯收拢，仿佛用这办法来抑制它们，免得在突然袭击她身心的暴怒的盲目冲动下，会伤害她自己或其他人。
“他没有想到我是谁！”老太婆挥挥握紧的拳头，说道。
“他也根本没有注意到！”女儿咬牙切齿地嘟囔着。
“可是有一次我们面对面地碰见了，”老太婆说道，“我跟他说话，他也跟我说话。我坐着，眼看着他穿过一个长长的小树林走开了；他每走一步，我就咒骂他一次，咒骂他的灵魂，也咒骂他的肉体。”
“不管你怎样咒骂，他还照样飞黄腾达！”女儿用鄙弃的语气回答道。
“不错，他现在是飞黄腾达。”母亲说道。
她不再说话，因为坐在她面前的那张脸孔已经由于愤怒而改变了样子。看上去仿佛她胸中翻腾起伏的情感都要把她的胸膛给炸裂了。她为了抑制和管束这种情感而做的努力与愤怒本身同样可怕，同样有力地表明这个女人的激烈的、危险的性格。不过她所做的努力成功了。她沉默了一会儿之后，问道：
“他结婚了吗？”
“没有，宝贝，”母亲回答道。
“快结婚了吗？”
“据我了解，还没有，宝贝。但是他的老板与朋友结婚了。我们可以祝他快乐！我们可以祝他们全都快乐！”老太婆兴高采烈地喊道；这时候她的两只枯瘦的胳膊把自己的身子紧紧地抱住，“这个结婚的结果只会使我们高兴！你记住我的这句话吧！”
女儿望着她，等待解释。
“不过你又湿又累，又饿又渴，”老太婆脚一拐一拐地向碗柜走去，说道，“这里找不到什么东西。这里也——”她把手伸到衣袋里掏了掏，然后把几个半便士叮叮当当地扔在桌子上。“袋里没什么钱。你有钱吗，艾丽斯，我的宝贝？”
当她提出这个问题的时候，以及当她注视着女儿从怀中取出不久前才得到的礼金的时候，她脸上露出的贪婪的、狡黠的、渴望的表情，几乎和女儿的语言同样清楚地说明了这位母亲与她女儿的历史。
“所有的钱都在这里了吗？”母亲问道。
“我没有别的了。要不是有人施舍的话，我连这点钱也没有。”
“要不是有人施舍，是吗，宝贝？”老太婆说道，一边向桌子弯下身去贪婪地看看钱，好像对依旧把钱拿在手里的女儿不信任似的，并继续注视着，“哼！六加六，十二，再加六，十八——这样，我们得好好地用它。我去买点吃的和喝的。”
从她的外貌来看，人们不会料想到她的动作还能这么麻利，因为年龄和穷困似乎已使她变得又丑又衰老了。
她开始用颤抖的手把一顶旧帽的带子系好，并围上一条破烂的围巾；同时，仍旧用同样贪婪与狡黠的眼光凝视着女儿手中的钱。
“这个结婚的结果会使我们高兴什么？”女儿问道，“你没有跟我说明白。”
“使我们高兴的是，”她用摸索着的手指整整服装，回答道，“这结婚没有一点爱情，可是却有着许多高傲与憎恨，我的宝贝。使我们高兴的是，因为他们高傲，所以他们之间存在着不和与冲突，并且充满了危险——危险，艾丽斯！”
“什么危险？”
“我已经看到了我所看到的！我已经知道了我所知道的！”母亲吃吃地笑着。“让什么人去看着他们吧！让什么人注意着他们吧！我的女儿也许还能交上个好朋友！”
这时候，老太婆看到女儿一本正经地、困惑不解地看着她的时候，无意之中把钱紧握了一下，就着急地想把钱赶快弄到手，于是急急忙忙地说道，“可是我得出去买点什么，我得出去买点什么。”
当她伸出手掌站在女儿面前的时候，女儿在跟这些钱分手之前，又看了看它们，并拿到嘴唇上吻了吻。
“怎么，艾丽！你吻它们吗？”老太婆吃吃地笑着。“这真像我！我常常这么做。它们对我们多好呀！”她把自己那个失去光泽的半便士也紧握着举到喉咙上松垂的皮上，“它们能给我们办多少好事呀，可惜它们不能成堆地来到我们跟前！”
“妈妈，我现在吻它们，”女儿说道，“或者我刚才吻它们——我不记得我过去曾经这样做过——，这是为了感谢给我钱的人。”
“为了感谢给钱的人，是吗，宝贝？”老太婆回答道，当她拿到钱的时候，她那昏花的眼睛发出了闪闪的亮光，“不错！如果给钱的人不吝啬，舍得把钱拿出来，我也会为了感谢给钱的人吻它们的。可是我得出去把它们花掉，宝贝。我马上就回来。”
“你似乎是说，你知道了好多事情，妈妈，”女儿目送她到门口，说道，“自从我们分别以后你已变得很聪明了。”
“我知道！”老太婆退回一、两步，哇哇地大声说道，“我比你想的知道得多。我比他想的知道得多，宝贝，我不久就会告诉你的。我知道他的一切。”
女儿表示怀疑地微笑了一下。
“我知道他的哥哥，艾丽斯，”老太婆伸出脖子，非常可怕地幸灾乐祸地斜眼看着说道，“他本可能住在你住过的地方，——但因为偷钱——他现在跟他姐姐住在伦敦城外北边公路附近。”
“住在哪里？”
“伦敦城外北边公路附近，宝贝。如果你愿意，你可以去看看他们的房屋。这座房屋没有什么可以夸耀的，虽然他自己的另一座倒是十分阔气。不，不，不”老太婆摇摇头，大笑着喊道，因为她的女儿已经从椅子上跳起来了，“现在不去看；那里太远了。房屋是在一块里程碑附近，那块里程碑旁边有一堆石子；——如果天气晴朗，你又有兴趣的话，那么就明天去吧，宝贝。可是我现在得去把钱花掉——”
“站住！”女儿重新燃烧着怒火，向她冲过去，说道，“那位姐姐是不是一位脸孔漂亮的女妖精，头发是黑色的？”
老太婆惊奇与恐惧地点点头。
“我在她脸上看到了他的一些特征，两人长得有些相像！
那是一座孤零零的红房子，门前有一条绿色的小走廊。”
老太婆又点点头。
“今天我在那里坐过！把钱还给我。”
“艾丽斯！宝贝！”
“把钱还给我，要不我会打伤你的。”
她一边说，一边从老太婆手里把钱硬抢过来；并且丝毫不顾她的埋怨和哀求，就重新披上脱下的斗篷，急速地向门外跑出去。
母亲一拐一拐地尽量跟随着她，同时劝说着她；可是这些劝说对她丝毫不起作用，就像对包围着她们的风雨和黑暗不起作用一样。女儿固执地、狠狠地打定了主意，对于其他一切全都满不在乎；她不顾气候和距离，仿佛她已忘记了她经过了长途跋涉，也忘记了她的疲劳，一直向着那座她曾得到救助的房屋走去；走了几刻钟之后，老太婆筋疲力尽，气喘吁吁，大胆地抓住女儿的裙子；可是她不敢再做别的了；她们穿过雨水和黑暗，默默无言地向前继续走去。如果说母亲不时吐出一两声怨言的话，那么她总是在刚要吐出的时候就立刻把它压下去，唯恐女儿会从她身边跑开，把她丢在后面；
女儿则一直一句话也不说。
当她们把城市的街道抛在身后，进入房屋所在的那个既不是城市又不是乡村的地段、四周是更加深沉的黑暗的时候，已经过了半夜十二点钟了。城市座落在远方，阴惨、昏暗；寒风在开旷的空间怒号；四周的一切是黑暗、荒芜、凄凉。
“这地方对我倒是很合适的！”女儿停下脚步，回头看看，说道，“今天当我初到这里的时候，我就这样想过。”
“艾丽斯，我的宝贝，”母亲轻轻地拉了拉她的裙子，喊道，“艾丽斯！”
“现在还想说什么，妈妈？”
“别把钱还回去，我亲爱的，请别还回去。我们还不起，我们要吃晚饭，宝贝。不管是谁给的，钱总是钱。你想对她说什么就说什么，但钱得留着。”
“看那边！”这就是女儿的回答。“那就是我所说的房屋。
是不是？”
老太婆肯定地点点头；她们再走几步，就到了门口。艾丽斯曾经坐着烘衣服的那间房屋中有着炉火和蜡烛的亮光；
她敲了敲门，约翰•卡克就从那间房间中走出来。
在这样的时刻看到这样的来访者，他感到惊讶。他问艾丽斯需要什么。
“我需要你的姐姐，”她说道，“就是今天给我钱的那个女人。”
哈里特听到她提高了嗓门的，就走出来了。
“啊！”艾丽斯喊道，“你在这里！你记得我吗？”
“记得，”她感到奇怪地回答道。
先前曾经恭顺地对着她的那张脸孔，现在却以这样不可抑制的仇恨和蔑视的神情看着她；先前曾经温柔地摸过她的胳膊的那只手，现在却这样显露出不怀好意地紧握着，仿佛它真想把她勒死似的；哈里特看到这种情景，就紧挨着她的弟弟，寻求保护。
“我先前怎么能跟你讲话，没有把你认出来呢！我先前怎么能接近你，没有根据我自己血液的震颤，感觉到你血管里流的是什么样的血呢！”艾丽斯摆出一副威胁的姿态，说道。
“您是什么意思？我做了什么啦？”
“你做了什么啦？”另一位回答道，“你曾让我坐在你的炉火旁边；你曾给我饭吃，给我钱；你曾向我表示怜悯！你！对你的姓我要吐唾沫！”
老太婆怀着怨恨（这使她那丑陋的脸孔更加可怕了），向姐弟俩挥动着满是皱纹的手，表示完全同意她女儿说的话，可是她却又拉拉女儿的裙子，求她把钱留着。
“如果我有一颗眼泪掉在你的手上，那么就让它使你的手枯萎吧！如果我曾对你讲过一句温柔的话，那么就让它把你的耳朵震聋吧！如果我曾用嘴唇吻过你的话，那么就让它毒害你吧！让我咀咒这座曾经给我庇护的房屋！让悲伤和耻辱落到你的头上！让你所有的亲人全都毁灭吧！”
她一边说，一边把钱扔在地上，用脚去踢它们。
“我把它们踏进尘土！即使它们给我铺设了通向天堂的道路，我也不去捡它们！我真但愿我这双今天走到这里来的流血的脚在去你家之前烂掉就好了！”
哈里特脸色苍白，身子发抖；她拦住她弟弟，听凭艾丽斯说下去，不去打断她。
“真不错，在我回来的第一个小时，我就被你或姓你这个姓的别的什么人怜悯和宽恕了！真不错，你扮演了慈善夫人的角色来对待我！我临终的时候将感谢你；我将为你，为你们整个家族祈祷，你可以相信这一点！”
她狠狠地挥了挥手，仿佛要把仇恨洒到地上，让站在她前面的这两个人毁灭似的，同时又向黑暗的天空仰望了一次，然后大踏步地走进暴风雨的深夜。
母亲曾经一次又一次徒劳无益地拉着女儿的裙子，并用无比贪婪的眼光注视着落在门口的钱币，仿佛她全身的注意力都集中在上面似的；她真想留下来在附近游荡，直到房屋里的灯火熄灭之后，再到污泥中去摸索，把那几个钱重新弄到手里。可是女儿把她拉开了，她们踏上了归途；老太婆一路上不断为她们的损失哀哭和悲叹着，就她胆量所敢的程度，痛心地抱怨她漂亮的女儿的不孝顺的行为——在她们母女团聚的第一夜就夺走了她一顿晚餐。
如果不算那点粗劣的剩饭的话，她可以说没吃晚饭就上床睡觉了；至于这点剩饭，她在她不孝顺的女儿睡熟之后很久还坐在那里，对着即将熄灭的炉火，闭着嘴有力地咀嚼着。
这位可怜的母亲和这位可怜的女儿，是不是只不过是有时在上层社会流行的某些社会恶习在下层社会的一个缩影呢？在这个圆圆的世界中存在许多圈子，一圈套着一圈；我们需不需要在这个世界中作一次令人疲劳的旅行，从最高层一直旅行到最低层，最后得出这个结论：最高层与最低层是紧紧挨近的，最高层的开始的一端与最低层结尾的一端是相互聚合的，我们旅行的终点只不过是我们旅行的出发点？尽管材料与质地有很大的不同，这种式样的织品在上流社会中不是也完全可以找到吗？
伊迪丝•董贝，请回答吧！还有克利奥佩特拉，您这位母亲当中最好的母亲，让我们请您来作证吧！
Chapter 35
 The Happy Pair
The dark blot on the street is gone. Mr Dombey's mansion, if it be a gap among the other houses any longer, is only so because it is not to be vied with in its brightness, and haughtily casts them off. The saying is, that home is home, be it never so homely. If it hold good in the opposite contingency, and home is home be it never so stately, what an altar to the Household Gods is raised up here!
Lights are sparkling in the windows this evening, and the ruddy glow of fires is warm and bright upon the hangings and soft carpets, and the dinner waits to be served, and the dinner-table is handsomely set forth, though only for four persons, and the side board is cumbrous with plate. It is the first time that the house has been arranged for occupation since its late changes, and the happy pair are looked for every minute.
Only second to the wedding morning, in the interest and expectation it engenders among the household, is this evening of the coming home. Mrs Perch is in the kitchen taking tea; and has made the tour of the establishment, and priced the silks and damasks by the yard, and exhausted every interjection in the dictionary and out of it expressive of admiration and wonder. The upholsterer's foreman, who has left his hat, with a pocket-handkerchief in it, both smelling strongly of varnish, under a chair in the hall, lurks about the house, gazing upwards at the cornices, and downward at the carpets, and occasionally, in a silent transport of enjoyment, taking a rule out of his pocket, and skirmishingly measuring expensive objects, with unutterable feelings. Cook is in high spirits, and says give her a place where there's plenty of company (as she'll bet you sixpence there will be now), for she is of a lively disposition, and she always was from a child, and she don't mind who knows it; which sentiment elicits from the breast of Mrs Perch a responsive murmur of support and approbation. All the housemaid hopes is, happiness for 'em - but marriage is a lottery, and the more she thinks about it, the more she feels the independence and the safety of a single life. Mr Towlinson is saturnine and grim' and says that's his opinion too, and give him War besides, and down with the French - for this young man has a general impression that every foreigner is a Frenchman, and must be by the laws of nature.
At each new sound of wheels, they all stop> whatever they are saying, and listen; and more than once there is a general starting up and a cry of 'Here they are!' But here they are not yet; and Cook begins to mourn over the dinner, which has been put back twice, and the upholsterer's foreman still goes lurking about the rooms, undisturbed in his blissful reverie!
Florence is ready to receive her father and her new Mama Whether the emotions that are throbbing in her breast originate In pleasure or in pain, she hardly knows. But the fluttering heart sends added colour to her cheeks, and brightness to her eyes; and they say downstairs, drawing their heads together - for they always speak softly when they speak of her - how beautiful Miss Florence looks to-night, and what a sweet young lady she has grown, poor dear! A pause succeeds; and then Cook, feeling, as president, that her sentiments are waited for, wonders whether - and there stops. The housemaid wonders too, and so does Mrs Perch, who has the happy social faculty of always wondering when other people wonder, without being at all particular what she wonders at. Mr Towlinson, who now descries an opportunity of bringing down the spirits of the ladies to his own level, says wait and see; he wishes some people were well out of this. Cook leads a sigh then, and a murmur of 'Ah, it's a strange world, it is indeed!' and when it has gone round the table, adds persuasively, 'but Miss Florence can't well be the worse for any change, Tom.' Mr Towlinson's rejoinder, pregnant with frightful meaning, is 'Oh, can't she though!' and sensible that a mere man can scarcely be more prophetic, or improve upon that, he holds his peace.
Mrs Skewton, prepared to greet her darling daughter and dear son-in-law with open arms, is appropriately attired for that purpose in a very youthful costume, with short sleeves. At present, however, her ripe charms are blooming in the shade of her own apartments, whence she had not emerged since she took possession of them a few hours ago, and where she is fast growing fretful, on account of the postponement of dinner. The maid who ought to be a skeleton, but is in truth a buxom damsel, is, on the other hand, In a most amiable state: considering her quarterly stipend much safer than heretofore, and foreseeing a great improvement in her board and lodging.
Where are the happy pair, for whom this brave home is waiting? Do steam, tide, wind, and horses, all abate their speed, to linger on such happiness? Does the swarm of loves and graces hovering about them retard their progress by its numbers? Are there so many flowers in their happy path, that they can scarcely move along, without entanglement in thornless roses, and sweetest briar?
They are here at last! The noise of wheels is heard, grows louder, and a carriage drives up to the door! A thundering knock from the obnoxious foreigner anticipates the rush of Mr Towlinson and party to open it; and Mr Dombey and his bride alight, and walk in arm in arm.
'My sweetest Edith!' cries an agitated voice upon the stairs. 'My dearest Dombey!' and the short sleeves wreath themselves about the happy couple in turn, and embrace them.
Florence had come down to the hall too, but did not advance: reserving her timid welcome until these nearer and dearer transports should subside. But the eyes of Edith sought her out, upon the threshold; and dismissing her sensitive parent with a slight kiss on the cheek, she hurried on to Florence and embraced her.
'How do you do, Florence?' said Mr Dombey, putting out his hand.
As Florence, trembling, raised it to her lips, she met his glance. The look was cold and distant enough, but it stirred her heart to think that she observed in it something more of interest than he had ever shown before. It even expressed a kind of faint surprise, and not a disagreeable surprise, at sight of her. She dared not raise her eyes to his any more; but she felt that he looked at her once again, and not less favourably. Oh what a thrill of joy shot through her, awakened by even this intangible and baseless confirmation of her hope that she would learn to win him, through her new and beautiful Mama!
'You will not be long dressing, Mrs Dombey, I presume?' said Mr Dombey.
'I shall be ready immediately.'
'Let them send up dinner in a quarter of an hour.'
With that Mr Dombey stalked away to his own dressing-room, and Mrs Dombey went upstairs to hers. Mrs Skewton and Florence repaired to the drawing-room, where that excellent mother considered it incumbent on her to shed a few irrepressible tears, supposed to be forced from her by her daughter's felicity; and which she was still drying, very gingerly, with a laced corner of her pocket-handkerchief, when her son-in-law appeared.
'And how, my dearest Dombey, did you find that delightfullest of cities, Paris?' she asked, subduing her emotion.
'It was cold,' returned Mr Dombey.
'Gay as ever,' said Mrs Skewton, 'of course.
'Not particularly. I thought it dull,' said Mr Dombey.
'Fie, my dearest Dombey!' archly; 'dull!'
'It made that impression upon me, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, with grave politeness. 'I believe Mrs Dombey found it dull too. She mentioned once or twice that she thought it so.'
'Why, you naughty girl!' cried Mrs Skewton, rallying her dear child, who now entered, 'what dreadfully heretical things have you been saying about Paris?'
Edith raised her eyebrows with an air of weariness; and passing the folding-doors which were thrown open to display the suite of rooms in their new and handsome garniture, and barely glancing at them as she passed, sat down by Florence.
'My dear Dombey,' said Mrs Skewton, 'how charmingly these people have carried out every idea that we hinted. They have made a perfect palace of the house, positively.'
'It is handsome,' said Mr Dombey, looking round. 'I directed that no expense should be spared; and all that money could do, has been done, I believe.'
'And what can it not do, dear Dombey?' observed Cleopatra.
'It is powerful, Madam,' said Mr Dombey.
He looked in his solemn way towards his wife, but not a word said she.
'I hope, Mrs Dombey,' addressing her after a moment's silence, with especial distinctness; 'that these alterations meet with your approval?'
'They are as handsome as they can be,' she returned, with haughty carelessness. 'They should be so, of' course. And I suppose they are.'
An expression of scorn was habitual to the proud face, and seemed inseparable from it; but the contempt with which it received any appeal to admiration, respect, or consideration on the ground of his riches, no matter how slight or ordinary in itself, was a new and different expression, unequalled in intensity by any other of which it was capable. Whether Mr Dombey, wrapped in his own greatness, was at all aware of this, or no, there had not been wanting opportunities already for his complete enlightenment; and at that moment it might have been effected by the one glance of the dark eye that lighted on him, after it had rapidly and scornfully surveyed the theme of his self-glorification. He might have read in that one glance that nothing that his wealth could do, though it were increased ten thousand fold, could win him for its own sake, one look of softened recognition from the defiant woman, linked to him, but arrayed with her whole soul against him. He might have read in that one glance that even for its sordid and mercenary influence upon herself, she spurned it, while she claimed its utmost power as her right, her bargain - as the base and worthless recompense for which she had become his wife. He might have read in it that, ever baring her own head for the lightning of her own contempt and pride to strike, the most innocent allusion to the power of his riches degraded her anew, sunk her deeper in her own respect, and made the blight and waste within her more complete.
But dinner was announced, and Mr Dombey led down Cleopatra; Edith and his daughter following. Sweeping past the gold and silver demonstration on the sideboard as if it were heaped-up dirt, and deigning to bestow no look upon the elegancies around her, she took her place at his board for the first time, and sat, like a statue, at the feast.
Mr Dombey, being a good deal in the statue way himself, was well enough pleased to see his handsome wife immovable and proud and cold. Her deportment being always elegant and graceful, this as a general behaviour was agreeable and congenial to him. Presiding, therefore, with his accustomed dignity, and not at all reflecting on his wife by any warmth or hilarity of his own, he performed his share of the honours of the table with a cool satisfaction; and the installation dinner, though not regarded downstairs as a great success, or very promising beginning, passed oil, above, in a sufficiently polite, genteel, and frosty manner.
Soon after tea' Mrs Skewton, who affected to be quite overcome and worn Out by her emotions of happiness, arising in the contemplation of her dear child united to the man of her heart, but who, there is reason to suppose, found this family party somewhat dull, as she yawned for one hour continually behind her fan, retired to bed. Edith, also, silently withdrew and came back' no more. Thus, it happened that Florence, who had been upstairs to have some conversation with Diogenes, returning to the drawing-room with her little work-basket, found no one there but her father, who was walking to and fro, in dreary magnificence.
'I beg your pardon. Shall I go away, Papa?' said Florence faintly, hesitating at the door.
'No,' returned Mr Dombey, looking round over his shoulder; you can come and go here, Florence, as you please. This is not my private room.
Florence entered, and sat down at a distant little table with her work: finding herself for the first time in her life - for the very first time within her memory from her infancy to that hour - alone with her father, as his companion. She, his natural companion, his only child, who in her lonely life and grief had known the suffering of a breaking heart; who, in her rejected love, had never breathed his name to God at night, but with a tearful blessing, heavier on him than a curse; who had prayed to die young, so she might only die in his arms; who had, all through, repaid the agony of slight and coldness, and dislike, with patient unexacting love, excusing him, and pleading for him, like his better angel!
She trembled, and her eyes were dim. His figure seemed to grow in height and bulk before her as he paced the room: now it was all blurred and indistinct; now clear again, and plain; and now she seemed to think that this had happened, just the same, a multitude of years ago. She yearned towards him, and yet shrunk from his approach. Unnatural emotion in a child, innocent of wrong! Unnatural the hand that had directed the sharp plough, which furrowed up her gentle nature for the sowing of its seeds!
Bent upon not distressing or offending him by her distress, Florence controlled herself, and sat quietly at her work. After a few more turns across and across the room, he left off pacing it; and withdrawing into a shadowy corner at some distance, where there was an easy chair, covered his head with a handkerchief, and composed himself to sleep.
It was enough for Florence to sit there watching him; turning her eyes towards his chair from time to time; watching him with her thoughts, when her face was intent upon her work; and sorrowfully glad to think that he could sleep, while she was there, and that he was not made restless by her strange and long-forbidden presence.
What would have been her thoughts if she had known that he was steadily regarding her; that the veil upon his face, by accident or by design, was so adjusted that his sight was free, and that itnever wandered from her face face an instant That when she looked towards him' In the obscure dark corner, her speaking eyes, more earnest and pathetic in their voiceless speech than all the orators of all the world, and impeaching him more nearly in their mute address, met his, and did not know it! That when she bent her head again over her work, he drew his breath more easily, but with the same attention looked upon her still - upon her white brow and her falling hair, and busy hands; and once attracted, seemed to have no power to turn his eyes away!
And what were his thoughts meanwhile? With what emotions did he prolong the attentive gaze covertly directed on his unknown daughter? Was there reproach to him in the quiet figure and the mild eyes? Had he begun to her disregarded claims and did they touch him home at last, and waken him to some sense of his cruel injustice?
There are yielding moments in the lives of the sternest and harshest men, though such men often keep their secret well. The sight ofher in her beauty, almost changed into a woman without his knowledge, may have struck out some such moments even In his life of pride. Some passing thought that he had had a happy home within his reach-had had a household spirit bending at has feet - had overlooked it in his stiffnecked sullen arrogance, and wandered away and lost himself, may have engendered them. Some simple eloquence distinctly heard, though only uttered in her eyes, unconscious that he read them' as'By the death-beds I have tended, by the childhood I have suffered, by our meeting in this dreary house at midnight, by the cry wrung from me in the anguish of my heart, oh, father, turn to me and seek a refuge in my love before it is too late!' may have arrested them. Meaner and lower thoughts, as that his dead boy was now superseded by new ties, and he could forgive the having been supplanted in his affection, may have occasioned them. The mere association of her as an ornament, with all the ornament and pomp about him, may have been sufficient. But as he looked, he softened to her, more and more. As he looked, she became blended with the child he had loved, and he could hardly separate the two. As he looked, he saw her for an instant by a clearer and a brighter light, not bending over that child's pillow as his rival - monstrous thought - but as the spirit of his home, and in the action tending himself no less, as he sat once more with his bowed-down head upon his hand at the foot of the little bed. He felt inclined to speak to her, and call her to him. The words 'Florence, come here!' were rising to his lips - but slowly and with difficulty, they were so very strange - when they were checked and stifled by a footstep on the stair.
It was his wife's. She had exchanged her dinner dress for a loose robe, and unbound her hair, which fell freely about her neck. But this was not the change in her that startled him.
'Florence, dear,' she said, 'I have been looking for you everywhere.'
As she sat down by the side of Florence, she stooped and kissed her hand. He hardly knew his wife. She was so changed. It was not merely that her smile was new to him - though that he had never seen; but her manner, the tone of her voice, the light of her eyes, the interest, and confidence, and winning wish to please, expressed in all-this was not Edith.
'Softly, dear Mama. Papa is asleep.'
It was Edith now. She looked towards the corner where he was, and he knew that face and manner very well.
'I scarcely thought you could be here, Florence.'
Again, how altered and how softened, in an instant!
'I left here early,' pursued Edith, 'purposely to sit upstairs and talk with you. But, going to your room, I found my bird was flown, and I have been waiting there ever since, expecting its return.
If it had been a bird, indeed, she could not have taken it more tenderly and gently to her breast, than she did Florence.
'Come, dear!'
'Papa will not expect to find me, I suppose, when he wakes,' hesitated Florence.
'Do you think he will, Florence?' said Edith, looking full upon her.
Florence drooped her head, and rose, and put up her work-basket Edith drew her hand through her arm, and they went out of the room like sisters. Her very step was different and new to him' Mr Dombey thought, as his eyes followed her to the door.
He sat in his shadowy corner so long, that the church clocks struck the hour three times before he moved that night. All that while his face was still intent upon the spot where Florence had been seated. The room grew darker, as the candles waned and went out; but a darkness gathered on his face, exceeding any that the night could cast, and rested there.
Florence and Edith, seated before the fire in the remote room where little Paul had died, talked together for a long time. Diogenes, who was of the party, had at first objected to the admission of Edith, and, even In deference to his mistress's wish, had only permitted it under growling protest. But, emerging by little and little from the ante-room, whither he had retired in dudgeon, he soon appeared to comprehend, that with the most amiable intentions he had made one of those mistakes which will occasionally arise in the best-regulated dogs' minds; as a friendly apology for which he stuck himself up on end between the two, in a very hot place in front of the fire, and sat panting at it, with his tongue out, and a most imbecile expression of countenance, listening to the conversation.
It turned, at first, on Florence's books and favourite pursuits, and on the manner in which she had beguiled the interval since the marriage. The last theme opened up to her a subject which lay very near her heart, and she said, with the tears starting to her eyes:
'Oh, Mama! I have had a great sorrow since that day.'
'You a great sorrow, Florence!'
'Yes. Poor Walter is drowned.'
Florence spread her hands before her face, and wept with all her heart. Many as were the secret tears which Walter's fate had cost her, they flowed yet, when she thought or spoke of him.
'But tell me, dear,' said Edith, soothing her. 'Who was Walter? What was he to you?'
'He was my brother, Mama. After dear Paul died, we said we would be brother and sister. I had known him a long time - from a little child. He knew Paul, who liked him very much; Paul said, almost at the last, "Take care of Walter, dear Papa! I was fond of him!" Walter had been brought in to see him, and was there then - in this room.
'And did he take care of Walter?' inquired Edith, sternly.
'Papa? He appointed him to go abroad. He was drowned in shipwreck on his voyage,' said Florence, sobbing.
'Does he know that he is dead?' asked Edith.
'I cannot tell, Mama. I have no means of knowing. Dear Mama!' cried Florence, clinging to her as for help, and hiding her face upon her bosom, 'I know that you have seen - '
'Stay! Stop, Florence.' Edith turned so pale, and spoke so earnestly, that Florence did not need her restraining hand upon her lips. 'Tell me all about Walter first; let me understand this history all through.'
Florence related it, and everything belonging to it, even down to the friendship of Mr Toots, of whom she could hardly speak in her distress without a tearful smile, although she was deeply grateful to him. When she had concluded her account, to the whole of which Edith, holding her hand, listened with close attention, and when a silence had succeeded, Edith said:
'What is it that you know I have seen, Florence?'
'That I am not,' said Florence, with the same mute appeal, and the same quick concealment of her face as before, 'that I am not a favourite child, Mama. I never have been. I have never known how to be. I have missed the way, and had no one to show it to me. Oh, let me learn from you how to become dearer to Papa Teach me! you, who can so well!' and clinging closer to her, with some broken fervent words of gratitude and endearment, Florence, relieved of her sad secret, wept long, but not as painfully as of yore, within the encircling arms of her new mother.
Pale even to her lips, and with a face that strove for composure until its proud beauty was as fixed as death, Edith looked down upon the weeping girl, and once kissed her. Then gradually disengaging herself, and putting Florence away, she said, stately, and quiet as a marble image, and in a voice that deepened as she spoke, but had no other token of emotion in it:
'Florence, you do not know me! Heaven forbid that you should learn from me!'
'Not learn from you?' repeated Florence, in surprise.
'That I should teach you how to love, or be loved, Heaven forbid!' said Edith. 'If you could teach me, that were better; but it is too late. You are dear to me, Florence. I did not think that anything could ever be so dear to me, as you are in this little time.'
She saw that Florence would have spoken here, so checked her with her hand, and went on.
'I will be your true friend always. I will cherish you, as much, if not as well as anyone in this world could. You may trust in me - I know it and I say it, dear, - with the whole confidence even of your pure heart. There are hosts of women whom he might have married, better and truer in all other respects than I am, Florence; but there is not one who could come here, his wife, whose heart could beat with greater truth to you than mine does.'
'I know it, dear Mama!' cried Florence. 'From that first most happy day I have known it.'
'Most happy day!' Edith seemed to repeat the words involuntarily, and went on. 'Though the merit is not mine, for I thought little of you until I saw you, let the undeserved reward be mine in your trust and love. And in this - in this, Florence; on the first night of my taking up my abode here; I am led on as it is best I should be, to say it for the first and last time.'
Florence, without knowing why, felt almost afraid to hear her proceed, but kept her eyes riveted on the beautiful face so fixed upon her own.
'Never seek to find in me,' said Edith, laying her hand upon her breast, 'what is not here. Never if you can help it, Florence, fall off from me because it is not here. Little by little you will know me better, and the time will come when you will know me, as I know myself. Then, be as lenient to me as you can, and do not turn to bitterness the only sweet remembrance I shall have.
The tears that were visible in her eyes as she kept them fixed on Florence, showed that the composed face was but as a handsome mask; but she preserved it, and continued:
'I have seen what you say, and know how true it is. But believe me - you will soon, if you cannot now - there is no one on this earth less qualified to set it right or help you, Florence, than I. Never ask me why, or speak to me about it or of my husband, more. There should be, so far, a division, and a silence between us two, like the grave itself.'
She sat for some time silent; Florence scarcely venturing to breathe meanwhile, as dim and imperfect shadows of the truth, and all its daily consequences, chased each other through her terrified, yet incredulous imagination. Almost as soon as she had ceased to speak, Edith's face began to subside from its set composure to that quieter and more relenting aspect, which it usually wore when she and Florence were alone together. She shaded it, after this change, with her hands; and when she arose, and with an affectionate embrace bade Florence good-night, went quickly, and without looking round.
But when Florence was in bed, and the room was dark except for the glow of the fire, Edith returned, and saying that she could not sleep, and that her dressing-room was lonely, drew a chair upon the hearth, and watched the embers as they died away. Florence watched them too from her bed, until they, and the noble figure before them, crowned with its flowing hair, and in its thoughtful eyes reflecting back their light, became confused and indistinct, and finally were lost in slumber.
In her sleep, however, Florence could not lose an undefined impression of what had so recently passed. It formed the subject of her dreams, and haunted her; now in one shape, now in another; but always oppressively; and with a sense of fear. She dreamed of seeking her father in wildernesses, of following his track up fearful heights, and down into deep mines and caverns; of being charged with something that would release him from extraordinary suffering - she knew not what, or why - yet never being able to attain the goal and set him free. Then she saw him dead, upon that very bed, and in that very room, and knew that he had never loved her to the last, and fell upon his cold breast, passionately weeping. Then a prospect opened, and a river flowed, and a plaintive voice she knew, cried, 'It is running on, Floy! It has never stopped! You are moving with it!' And she saw him at a distance stretching out his arms towards her, while a figure such as Walter's used to be, stood near him, awfully serene and still. In every vision, Edith came and went, sometimes to her joy, sometimes to her sorrow, until they were alone upon the brink of a dark grave, and Edith pointing down, she looked and saw - what! - another Edith lying at the bottom.
In the terror of this dream, she cried out and awoke, she thought. A soft voice seemed to whisper in her ear, 'Florence, dear Florence, it is nothing but a dream!' and stretching out her arms, she returned the caress of her new Mama, who then went out at the door in the light of the grey morning. In a moment, Florence sat up wondering whether this had really taken place or not; but she was only certain that it was grey morning indeed, and that the blackened ashes of the fire were on the hearth, and that she was alone.
So passed the night on which the happy pair came home.
街道上的黑点已经消失了。董贝先生的公馆如果仍然是其他房屋当中的一个豁口的话，那么那只是因为它的富丽堂皇不是它们所能匹敌，它已高傲地将它们撂在一旁的缘故。谚语说得好：不管多么简陋，家总是家。如果在相反的意义上也是正确的：不管多么宏伟华贵，家总是家，那么这里给家庭之神建立的是一个什么样的圣坛啊！
这天晚上窗子中灯光灿烂，炉火红通通的光辉温暖地、明亮地照射在帘子等各种悬挂着的物品上和柔软的地毯上；晚饭已经做好了，正等待着开出；虽然只有四人用餐，餐桌已经收拾得漂漂亮亮的，食器柜里塞满了餐具。这座公馆自从最近整修以后，这是第一次准备好迎接主人住进来，每一分钟都在等待着那幸福的伉俪光临。
主人回到家里来的这个晚上在仆人们中间所引起的关切和期待，仅仅次于举行婚礼的那天早上。珀奇太太在厨房里喝着茶，她已到这座大厦上下各处转了一圈，估量过每码丝绸和锦缎的价格，用尽了词典里和词典外所有表示赞美和惊奇的感叹词。室内装饰商的工头把他的帽子留在门厅中一张椅子的下面，帽子里放了一块手绢，帽子和手绢都散发出强烈的清漆气味；他这时在屋子里悄悄地走来走去，向上看看檐板，向下看看地毯，有时高兴得不得了，就从衣兜里取出一支尺子，用难以形容的心情侦察性地量量那些贵重的物品。厨娘兴高采烈，说她喜欢待在有许多客人来往的东家（她准备用六便士跟你打赌，说今后这里将会是这样的），因为她生性活泼快乐，从小孩子的时候起一直是这样，她也不在乎大家知道这一点；珀奇太太低声地对她表示支持与称赞，这是她出自内心的反应。女仆唯一希望的只是他们将会幸福，可是结婚就跟彩票一样，她愈是对它转着念头，她就愈觉得独身生活的独立与安全。托林森先生忧闷不乐，他说他的意见也是这样；他还希望能让他去打仗，把法国人打倒，因为在这位年轻人看来，每一个外国人都是法国人，按照自然规律，这是必然无疑的。
每当新的车轮声传来的时候，他们不论当时在说什么，全都停止说话，静静地听着；他们不止一次惊跳起来，喊道，“他们到啦！”可是他们还是没有来；厨娘开始为晚饭悲叹，因为它已经从炉子上取下又送回两次了；那位室内装饰商的工头却依旧在房间里悄悄地溜来溜去，他那极乐的幻想没有受到任何打扰！
弗洛伦斯准备迎接她的父亲和新妈妈。她不知道，她胸中这样激动的感情是由于高兴还是由于痛苦产生的。不过跳动的心房使她的脸颊增添了血色，使她的眼睛增添了光泽。厨房里的仆人们交头接耳地说——因为他们谈到她的时候，总是很低的——，弗洛伦斯小姐今夜看去多么漂亮啊，还说可怜的孩子，她已长成一个多么可爱的姑娘了啊！接着，谈话暂时停止了；然后，厨娘觉得大家正等着她这位主席发表意见，就表示纳罕地说，莫不是——可是话说到这里就停住了。女仆也感到纳罕；珀奇太太也一样，她具有这种巧妙的社交能力：每当别人纳罕的时候，她也总是纳罕，虽然她并不清楚她究意纳罕的是什么。托林森先生看到这是把这些妇女的情绪降低到跟他一样的好机会，就说，等着瞧吧，他希望有些人在这次旅行中能平安无恙；这时厨娘带头叹了一口气，低声说道，“这是个奇怪的世界，确实是奇怪！”当全桌子的人把这句话都重复了一遍之后，她又很能说服人地补充了一句：“不过，汤姆，不管发生什么变化，对弗洛伦斯小姐总不会有害的！”托林森先生的回答充满了不祥的含意，他说：“哦，难道对她不会有害吗？”他知道，一个普通的人几乎不能比这作出更多的预言，也不能比这预言知道得更加清楚的了，所以他就保持沉默，不再说什么。
斯丘顿夫人准备伸出胳膊，热烈欢迎她心爱的女儿和亲爱的女婿回来，为了这个目的她十分适当地穿了一套很年轻的、短袖的服装。可是现在她那妖娆的风韵是在她自己的房间的阴影中放出美丽的光彩；她在几小时以前住进这个房间以后就没有出来过；由于晚餐推迟，她在房间里很快就焦躁不安起来了。她的那位侍女本应当是个骷髅，但实际上却是一位体态丰满的姑娘，她因为考虑到她每季的薪俸比过去稳靠得多，还预见到她的食宿条件将有很大改善，所以现在的态度倒是极为和蔼可亲。
这个华丽的家正在等待着的幸福的伉俪现在在哪里呢？是不是蒸汽、潮水、风和马全都减低了速度，想多观赏一下他们的幸福的情景呢？是不是成群翱翔在他们周围的爱神和美丽、温雅、欢乐三位女神①阻碍了他们的前进呢？是不是在他们幸福的路径中到处都是花朵，因此他们每向前移动一步，很难不被无刺的玫瑰或芳香的野蔷薇缠绕住呢？
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①爱神指丘比德（Cupid）。美丽、温雅、欢乐三女神即阿格莱亚（Aglaia）、尤弗罗西尼（Euphrosyne）及萨拉亚（Thalia）。
他们终于来到了！车轮的声音听到了，愈来愈响了。一辆四轮马车在门前停下来了！讨厌的外国人雷鸣般地敲着门，他只比托林森先生和其他仆人急忙冲出来开门早一点点；董贝先生和他的新娘下了车，手挽着手走着。
“我最亲爱的伊迪丝！”楼梯上一个激动的喊道，“我最亲爱的董贝！”短袖依次地围绕着幸福的伉俪，并拥抱着他们。
弗洛伦斯也走下来到了门厅里，但却没有向前走去。她把她胆怯的欢迎暂时保留着，直到这些比她更亲爱更热烈的欣喜若狂的场面过去以后。可是伊迪丝在门口就认出了她；她在多情善感的母亲脸颊上轻轻地吻了一下之后，就摆脱了她，急忙向弗洛伦斯跑去，把她拥抱在怀中。
“你好，弗洛伦斯，”董贝先生伸出手，说道。
弗洛伦斯颤抖地把它举到嘴唇上的时候，碰到了他的眼光。这眼光是十分冷漠与疏远的，但是当她感到在他的眼光中流露出对她的某些关心的时候，她的心跳动了，因为这是他过去从来不曾流露过的。当他看到她的时候，他在这眼光中甚至还表露出微弱的惊奇——并不是不愉快的惊奇。她不敢再抬起眼睛来看他；但她感觉到，他并非不好感地又看了她一次。她曾经想通过她的美丽的新妈妈来赢得他，现在她又这样不可捉摸地、没有根据地肯定了这种希望。啊，尽管是这样，这希望在她全身已唤起了多么激动人心的欢乐啊！
“我想您穿衣服不需要多长的时间吧，董贝夫人？”董贝先生说道。
“我立刻就好。”
“让他们在一刻钟之内开出晚饭。”
董贝先生说了这些话之后就高视阔步地走到他自己的化妆室中去，董贝夫人则上楼到她自己的化妆室中。斯丘顿夫人和弗洛伦斯向客厅走去；到了那里，这位卓越的母亲认为掉几颗控制不住的眼泪是自己义不容辞的责任，好像是因为看到女儿的幸福情不自禁地掉落的。当她还在用手绢的饰了花边的一个角小心翼翼地抹着眼泪的时候，她的女婿走进来了。
“我亲爱的董贝，你觉得巴黎这世界上最可爱有趣的城市怎么样？”她克制住自己的感情，问道。
“那里天气寒冷，”董贝先生回答道。
“一直是那么欢乐热闹吧，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“那是当然的。”
“并不特别欢乐热闹。我觉得它沉闷无趣，”董贝先生说道。
“看你说的，我亲爱的董贝！沉闷无趣！”她调皮地说道。
“它给我留下了这样的印象，夫人，”董贝先生庄严地、有礼地说道，“我想，董贝夫人也觉得它沉闷无趣。她有一两次谈到这点，她认为是这样的。”
“什么，你这淘气的女孩子！”斯丘顿夫人嘲笑着现在走进来的她的亲爱的孩子，喊道，“你对巴黎说了些多么可怕的、异教徒才说的话！”
伊迪丝带着厌倦的神情扬起眉毛；有一些折门现在打开了，因此显露了一套房间，里面陈列着崭新与漂亮的摆设，她走过折门的时候，只对它们看了一眼，就坐到弗洛伦斯的身旁。
“我亲爱的董贝，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“这些人多么出色地完成了我们略加指点的一切任务。确实，他们已把这座房屋完全变成一座宫殿了。”
“是很漂亮，”董贝先生向四周看看，说道，“我吩咐他们不要节省任何费用；我想，凡是钱能办到的，都已办到了。”
“它还有什么办不到的呢，亲爱的董贝！”克利奥佩特拉说道。
“它是很有力量的，夫人，”董贝先生说道。
他向他的妻子庄重地看了一眼，可是她却一个字也没有说。
“我希望，董贝夫人，”片刻沉默之后，他特别清楚地对她说道，“你赞成这些改变吧？”
“房屋已经修缮装饰得尽可能漂亮了，”她用高傲的、冷淡的口吻说道，“当然，应当这样。我想，它们现在是这样的。”
轻蔑的表情对这张高傲的脸孔来说是习以为常的，而且似乎是和它分不开的；但是当她得到暗示，要求她对他的财富表示赞慕、尊敬或重视的时候，不论这种暗示是多么轻微，多么寻常，她对这种暗示的轻蔑是一种新的、完全不同的表情；就轻蔑的强度来说，这不是通常的轻蔑表情所能达到的。被自尊自大所蒙蔽的董贝先生不论是不是觉察到这一点，但一直来已有不少机会可以促使他恍然大悟；就在这一个时刻，当那黑眼睛的视线迅速地、轻蔑地对他引以自夸的周围陈设一扫而过之后，落在他身上的时候，它也是可以起到这个作用的。他可以从这匆匆的眼光中理解到：不论他的财富的力量多么大，它即使比现在增大一万倍，那也不能由于财富本身而从这位跟他联结在一起、但却整个心灵都在反对他的高傲的女人那里赢得一次温柔的、感激的眼光。他可以从这匆匆的眼光中理解到：正因为财富在她心中曾经引起那些肮脏的、贪图利益的计算，所以她才鄙弃它，虽然在这同时她要求得到财富所赋予的最大的权力，作为她从事一笔交易所应得到的权利，作为她成为他的妻子的一笔卑鄙的、不足取的报酬。他可以从这匆匆的眼光中理解到：虽然她已把她自己的头听凭她自己的轻蔑与傲慢的雷电去打击，但对他的财富的力量的最没有恶意的暗示，都会重新使她感到屈辱，都会使她在轻视自己的泥潭中陷得更深，都会使她在内心中受到更加彻底的摧残与损害。
但这时仆人前来通报说，晚饭已摆好了；于是董贝先生就领着克利奥佩特拉下楼去，伊迪丝和他的女儿则在后面跟着。她匆匆地走过陈列在食器柜上的金银器皿，仿佛它们是一堆垃圾似的；对于四周奢华的物品她也不屑一顾；她就这样第一次在他的餐桌上就座，像一尊雕像一样坐在筵席前面。
董贝先生本人也很像雕像，因此没有丝毫不满地看到他的漂亮的妻子一动不动、高傲地、冷淡地坐在那里。她的举止总是文雅、优美的，她的这个态度总的来说也是使他感到愉快的，符合他的心意的。因此，他就保持着他向来的尊严充当起餐桌的主人；他本人丝毫没有表现出热情或欢乐，因而也丝毫没有让他的妻子跟着他表现出热情或欢乐；他就这样冷淡地、满意地执行着主人的职责。回家后的这第一顿晚餐——虽然厨房里的仆人们并不认为是很大的成功或是大有希望的开始——就这样十分彬彬有礼、文文雅雅、毫无生气地进行完毕。
茶点用过不久，斯丘顿夫人假装由于想到她亲爱的女儿跟称心的人结婚，过于快乐兴奋，精神感到疲乏；不过我们有理由设想，她也感到这家庭晚间的聚会有些沉闷无趣，因为她整整一个小时都用扇子捂着嘴巴不断地打呵欠；所以她就离开去睡觉了。伊迪丝也悄悄地走出房间，再也没有回来。因此，当先前上楼去跟戴奥吉尼斯谈几句话的弗洛伦斯拿着她的小针线篮子回到客厅的时候，发现那里没有别人，只有她父亲在富丽堂皇、但却冷冷清清的房间中来回踱着方步。
“请原谅。我走开吗，爸爸？”弗洛伦斯迟疑不决地站在门口，轻声地问道。
“不，”董贝先生回过头来，回答道，“你可以随意到这里来，弗洛伦斯。这不是我个人专用的房间。”
弗洛伦斯走进房间，拿着针线活，坐在一张隔开较远的小桌子旁边；她发现这是她平生第一次——根据她的记忆，从她婴儿时代起直到现在，这是第一次——单独和父亲在一起，成为他的伴侣。她是他天生的伴侣和唯一的孩子；她在孤独的生活和悲伤中曾体会到一颗破碎了的心的痛苦；虽然她对他的爱曾遭受到拒绝，可是每天晚上她都含着泪水，念着他的名字向上帝祷告，祈求上帝赐福于他（对他来说，这种含着眼泪的祷告真是比咀咒还要沉重）；她曾经祈求自己在年轻的时候死去，这样可以死在他的怀抱中；她始终如一地用耐性的、不抱奢望的爱来报答他那令人痛苦的轻视、冷淡和嫌恶，并像他的守护神一样宽恕他和为他辩护！
她颤抖着，眼睛模糊了。当他在房间里踱步的时候，他的身形在她眼前似乎高起来了，大起来了；一会儿它是模糊不清的，一会儿它又清楚鲜明了，一会儿她仿佛觉得这种情形好多年以前就像现在一样发生过。她向往他，可是当他走近的时候却又向后退缩。这是一个不知道邪恶的孩子的不自然的感情啊！一只奇怪的手在指导着锐利的犁，在她温柔的心田中耕出垅沟，来播种这种感情的种籽！
弗洛伦斯决心不让自己的悲痛来使他伤心或生气，所以她控制着自己，安安静静地坐在那里，干着针线活。他在房间里又转了几圈之后，不再踱步，而是到隔着一定距离的一个阴暗的角落里，在一张安乐椅中坐下，用手绢蒙着头，安下心来睡觉。
弗洛伦斯坐在那里看守着他，不时把眼睛朝他的椅子那边看看；她的脸孔专心致志地对着她的针线活，但她的思想却在注意着他；她又忧郁又高兴地想到，他能够在她身旁睡去，他并没有因为她奇怪地在场而坐立不安，而在过去，长期以来，他是绝不允许她在场的。对弗洛伦斯来说这样已经足够了！
他一直在不停地注意着她；他脸上的手绢无意或有意地摆放得使他可以随意地看她；他的视线一秒钟也没有离开过她的脸孔！当她朝着黑暗的角落里向他望过去的时候，她那富于表情的眼睛在无声的语言中比世界上所有的演说家说得更为恳切、更使人感动，它们在缄默的陈诉中向他提出了比语言更为严肃的责备；就在这时候，她的眼光碰到了他的眼光，可是她却不知道！当她重新低下头去干活的时候，他呼吸得舒畅了一些，但却继续同样注意地看着她——看着她那洁白的前额、垂落的头发和忙碌的双手——，而且一旦被她吸引住了，好像就再也没有力量能把他的眼睛移开似的！啊，如果她知道这一切的话，她该会怎么想啊！
这时候他又在想些什么呢？他怀着什么样的情绪在继续暗暗地注视着她的一无所知的女儿呢？他是不是在她安静的身姿与温柔的眼睛中看到了对他的责备了呢？他是不是已经开始认识到她应当得到但却被他忽视了的权利了呢？是不是它们终于打动了他的心，使他猛醒过来，认识到自己过去残酷的不公道了呢？
最严厉、最冷酷的人们虽然时常把他们内心的秘密保守得严严实实的，但在他们的生活中也有柔顺下来的片刻。看到女儿姿容美丽，在他不知不觉之中已经几乎变成一位成年妇女，这也许甚至在他的高傲的生活中也能引来这样柔顺的片刻吧！他身边已经有了一个幸福的家，家庭幸福的守护神正俯伏在他的脚旁，而他过去却顽固不化，绷着脸孔，妄自尊大，没有注意到这个守护神从旁走开，并断送了自己——也许，在脑中闪现的这样一些想法也能使他产生出这样柔顺的片刻吧！虽然她仅仅用眼睛表露，也不知道他已经看出，但他却像清清楚楚地听到她在娓娓动听地向他诉说着纯朴的话语：“啊，爸爸，看在我曾在床边照料过的死去的弟弟的分上，看在我曾度过的苦难的童年的分上，看在我们在深更半夜在这凄凉的房屋中相会的分上，看在我出于内心痛苦所发出的哀哭的分上，请转向我，在我对你的爱中寻求庇护吧，别等到太晚了！”——也许这些话也能激发他进入这样柔顺的片刻吧！还有一些比较卑劣、比较低贱的思想（如他死去的孩子现在已经被新婚所代替，因此他可以原谅曾经取代了他的爱的这个人了），也许也可以促使他产生这样柔顺的片刻吧！甚至就是这样的思想：她可以当作一项装饰品，和他周围所有其他的装饰品与奢侈品一起存在——也许这也足够使他心肠柔顺下来了。可是他愈看她，他对她就愈来愈温柔。当他看着她的时候，她跟他曾心爱过的男孩融合在一起了，他简直不能把他们两人分开。当他看着她的时候，他在片刻间通过更清晰、更明亮的光线看到了她，不再把她看作曾经俯伏在他男孩子的枕头上的他的竞敌（这是多么离奇的思想哟！），而是把她看作他家庭的守护神了，她正在看护着他，正像她过去曾经看护小保罗时的情形一样。他觉得他想跟她谈谈，把她叫到自己身边来。“弗洛伦斯，到这里来吧！”这些话已经到了他的嘴边——不过是缓慢、费劲的，因为他很不习惯这么说——，这时楼梯上响起了脚步声，这些话就被抑制住，说不出来了。
这是他妻子的脚步声。她已经脱去吃晚饭时的服装，换上了一件宽大的长衣，并已松开头发，让它随意地披垂在脖子周围。但是使他吃惊的并不是她的这些改变。
“弗洛伦斯，亲爱的，”她说道，“我一直在到处找你。”
当她坐在弗洛伦斯身旁的时候，她弯下身子，吻了吻她的手。他简直认不出这是他的妻子。她的变化是这么大。不仅她的微笑对他来说是新奇的（虽然他过去从没有见到她微笑），而且她处处表现出来的神态、声调、眼光、关切、信任以及那想使人高兴的愿望，也全都是新奇的。这不是伊迪丝。
“轻一点，亲爱的妈妈。爸爸睡着了。”
现在，这又是伊迪丝了。她朝他所在的角落里望过去，那脸孔和神态是他十分熟悉的。
“我完全没想到你会在这里，弗洛伦斯。”
她在一刹那间又换了个人，变得十分温柔。
“我很早就离开这里，”伊迪丝继续说道，“我想在楼上坐着，跟你谈话。可是我到了你的房间里，发现我的小鸟飞走啦，我就一直坐在那里等待着，盼望小鸟飞回来。”
如果这真是一只小鸟的话，那么她也不能比她现在对弗洛伦斯那样更亲切、更温柔地把它搂在她胸前了。
“走吧，亲爱的！”
“爸爸醒来的时候发现我走了，不会觉得奇怪吧？”弗洛伦斯迟疑地说道。
“你想他会吗，弗洛伦斯？”伊迪丝注视着她的脸孔，说道。
弗洛伦斯低下头，站起来，拿起针线篮子。伊迪丝挽着她的手，她们像姐妹俩似地走出了房间。她的每一个步伐对他来说，都是与往常不同的，是他所不熟悉的。当董贝先生目送她到门口时，他这样想。
那天夜晚，他在他那阴暗的角落里坐了很久，直到教堂里的时钟敲打了三下，他才开始走动。他的眼睛一直继续注视着弗洛伦斯坐过的地方。当蜡烛逐渐燃尽和熄灭的时候，房间里更加黑暗了；可是在他的脸上凝集着一层阴影，比任何深夜投下的阴影都更黑暗，而且一直停留在他的脸上。
弗洛伦斯和伊迪丝坐在小保罗死去的那间偏僻的房间里的壁炉前，长时间地交谈。戴奥吉尼斯也跟她们在一起；它最初反对伊迪丝进去，后来虽然尊重他女主人的愿望，但也还是在表示抗议的吠叫之下才勉强同意的。可是它怒气冲冲地跑到接待室中去休息之后不久，就悄悄地爬了出来，好像它已明白：虽然它用心很好，但却犯了一个错误，这是那些受过最好训练的狗有时也难免会犯的错误。为了友好地表示歉意，它就直挺挺地坐在她们两人中间、壁炉前面一个很热的地方，伸出舌头，露出一副傻里傻气的嘴脸，对着炉火，喘着气，并听着她们谈话。
谈话最初涉及弗洛伦斯的书本和她所喜爱研究的问题，也谈到结婚那天以来她是怎么消磨掉这段时间的。这最后的话题引起她谈到一个藏在她内心的问题。她涌出眼泪，说道：“啊，妈妈！从那天以来我一直沉陷在极大的悲痛之中。”
“你——极大的悲痛，弗洛伦斯！”
“是的，可怜的沃尔特淹死了。”
弗洛伦斯两只手捂着脸，尽情地痛哭着。沃尔特的命运曾使她暗暗地流过许多眼泪，可是每当想到他或谈到他的时候，泪水却仍然汪汪地涌出。
“不过请告诉我，亲爱的，”伊迪丝安慰着她，说道，“沃尔特是谁？他是你的什么人？”
“他是我的哥哥，妈妈。亲爱的保罗死了以后，我们相互约定，结为兄妹。我认识他很久了。他认识保罗，保罗非常喜欢他；保罗临终的时候还说，‘请关怀沃尔特吧，亲爱的爸爸！我喜欢他！’当时爸爸曾经派人把沃尔特领进来看他，就在这里——在这个房间里。”
“他真的关怀沃尔特了吗？”伊迪丝严厉地问道。
“你是说爸爸吗？他派他到国外去。他在航行中由于船失事而淹死了。”
“你知道他死了吗？”伊迪丝问道。
“我不知道，妈妈，我没法子知道。亲爱的妈妈！”弗洛伦斯哭道，一边紧贴着她，好像哀求她帮助似的，同时把脸掩藏在她胸前，“我知道，你已经看到——”
“等一等！别说，弗洛伦斯！”伊迪丝脸色变得十分苍白，话又说得十分恳切，所以弗洛伦斯不待她用手捂住她的嘴巴，就没有再说下去了，“首先告诉我沃尔特的一切情形；让我从头到尾了解这全部历史。”
弗洛伦斯叙述了这历史以及有关的一切细节，甚至一直说到图茨先生的友谊；在提到图茨先生的时候，她尽管悲痛，却还是不能不含着泪水微笑着，虽然她对他是深深感激的。伊迪丝握着她的手，非常留心地听着她所说的一切；当她说完，接着又沉默了一会儿之后，伊迪丝问道：
“你知道我已经看到了什么，弗洛伦斯？”
“我不是，”弗洛伦斯用同样默默无声的哀求，并像先前一样迅速地把脸掩藏到她胸前，说道，“我不是我爸爸所宠爱的女儿，妈妈。我从来也不是。我从来不知道怎样才能是。我迷失了道路，可是没有一个人向我指点道路。啊，让我向你学习怎样能跟爸爸亲近一些。教教我吧！你是十分懂得的！”弗洛伦斯向她贴得更近了一些，断断续续地用充满了感激和亲爱的热烈语言，吐露了她伤心的秘密之后，长时间地哭泣着，不过在她新妈妈的怀抱之中不像过去那么悲痛了。
伊迪丝甚至连嘴唇也发白了，脸孔做着劲，力求镇静，直到她那高傲的美貌像死去一般完全不动为止；她向下看着哭泣的女孩子，吻了她一次。然后她逐渐从弗洛伦斯的怀抱中抽出身来，把弗洛伦斯推开一些，这时候，她庄严地，像大理石雕像一样平静地，用愈加深沉、但却没有露出其他激动迹象的，说道：
“弗洛伦斯，你不了解我！你说什么要向我学习，这是老天爷所不容许的！”
“不向你学习？”弗洛伦斯惊奇地重复着说道。
“你说什么我要教你怎样去爱，或者怎样成为受宠爱的人，这是老天爷所不容许的！”伊迪丝说道，“如果你能教我的话，那倒更好一些；可是已经太晚了。你是我所喜爱的人，弗洛伦斯。我想不起有谁能像你这样，在这么短短的时间里叫我这么喜爱的。”
她看到弗洛伦斯这时想没什么，就做了个手势，阻止她，继续说下去：
“我将一直是你忠实的朋友。我将尽量爱护你，即使不像别人那么爱护得好。你可以相信我——我知道这，亲爱的，我也这么说——，你可以用你纯洁心灵的全部真诚相信我。他可以跟许许多多女人结婚，她们在其他方面比我更好，更忠心，弗洛伦斯；但是能到这里来当他妻子的人，谁的心也不能像我这样真诚地对待你。”
“我知道，亲爱的妈妈！”弗洛伦斯喊道，“从那最幸福的一天起，我就知道了。”
“最幸福的一天！”伊迪丝似乎无意识地重复了这几个字之后，继续说下去。“虽然这并不是我的功劳，因为我在见到你以前，很少想到你，可是就让你的信任和爱作为我无功而得的奖赏吧。你的信任和爱，弗洛伦斯。在我住到这里来的第一个晚上，我想跟你谈谈这一点（这样是最好的），这是第一次，也是最后一次。”
弗洛伦斯不知道为什么，感到几乎害怕听她说下去，但却把眼睛一动不动地盯着那张凝视着她的美丽的脸孔。
“千万别想从我这里寻找那不存在的东西。”伊迪丝把手搁在胸脯上，说道，“如果你可能的话，千万别因为我这里没有你所想要找到的东西就离开我。你会慢慢地、更好地了解我的。总有一天，你会像我了解我自己一样地了解我。那时候，请尽可能对我宽厚吧，并且别把我将拥有的唯一甜蜜的回忆变为苦味的东西吧。”
当她一动不动地注视着弗洛伦斯的时候，可以在她的眼睛中看到泪水，这说明：那镇静的脸孔只不过是一个漂亮的假面具而已；可是她却依旧戴着它，继续说下去：
“我已经看到了你所说的情形，而且知道你说得多么真实。可是，请相信我——如果你现在不能相信的话，那么你很快就会相信的——，世界上没有任何人比我更没有能力来改正或帮助你，弗洛伦斯。千万别问我为什么这样，也不要再跟我谈到这或谈到我的丈夫。这应当成为我们之间不可跨越的鸿沟，让我们两人对它保持着坟墓般的沉默。”
她沉默地坐了一些时候，弗洛伦斯几乎不敢呼吸，因为事实真相的模糊不清、支离破碎的影子以及它的日常后果，正在她恐惧的、但仍然怀疑的想象之中一个接一个地出现。伊迪丝几乎停止说话，她的脸孔就立刻从她故作镇静之中回复到平时她单独跟弗洛伦斯在一起时那种比较平静、比较温和的神态。在发生了这种变化之后，她用手捂着脸孔；当她站起来，感情深厚地拥抱了弗洛伦斯，祝她晚安之后，她快步走了出去，没有再回过头来。
可是当弗洛伦斯躺在床上，房间里除了壁炉发出的火光之外，已经一片黑暗的时候，伊迪丝回来了，说她睡不着，在她的化妆室里感到寂寞；她把一张椅子移近壁炉，望着余烬逐渐熄灭。弗洛伦斯也从床上望着余烬，直到后来，这些余烬和余烬前面的高贵的人影儿（它飘垂着长发，若有所思的眼睛反射出即将熄灭的火光）变得模糊纷乱，最后消失在她的睡眠之中。
可是，新近发生的事情的模糊印象，弗洛伦斯就是在睡眠中也还不能排除。它构成她的梦景，紧缠着她：一会儿是这个形状，一会儿是另一个形状，但总是沉闷地压着她，使她感到恐惧。她梦见在旷野中寻找父亲，跟随着他的足迹，往上攀登险峻的高峰，往下步入纵深的矿井和岩洞；她负着某种使命，要把他从异乎寻常的苦难中解救出来——她不知道究竟是什么苦难，也不知道为什么发生这样的苦难——，可是她从来不能达到目的，使他获得自由；然后她看到他就在这个房间里，就在这张床上死去了；她知道他始终没有爱过她，就扑在他冷冰冰的胸脯上悲痛地大哭着。接着，展现出一幅远景：一条河流流过去，一个她所熟悉的悲哀的喊道，“它向前流着呢，弗洛伊！它永远也不停止！你正随着它一道前进呢！”她看到他站在远处向她伸出胳膊，一个像沃尔特的人和他并排站在一起，安详、沉静得令人可怕。在每一个梦景中，伊迪丝出现了，又消失了，有时给她带来欢乐，有时给她带来悲伤，最后她们两人站在一个黑暗的坟墓的边缘上，伊迪丝指向下面，她望过去，看见了——谁呀！——另一个伊迪丝正躺在底下。
她在这个恶梦的惊恐中大声喊叫着，并醒来了。一个温柔的似乎在她耳边低声说道，“弗洛伦斯，亲爱的弗洛伦斯，这只是个梦！”她伸出胳膊，回答她新妈妈的爱抚；然后，她的新妈妈在阴沉的晨光中从房间中走出去了。弗洛伦斯忽然间坐了起来，心中纳闷：这究竟是不是真正发生过的事情？但她只能肯定的是，这的确是个阴沉的早晨，黑色的灰烬留在壁炉地面上，房间中就只有她孤零零的一个人。
幸福的伉俪回到家来的这一夜，就这样过去了。
Chapter 36
Housewarming
Many succeeding days passed in like manner; except that there were numerous visits received and paid, and that Mrs Skewton held little levees in her own apartments, at which Major Bagstock was a frequent attendant, and that Florence encountered no second look from her father, although she saw him every day. Nor had she much communication in words with her new Mama, who was imperious and proud to all the house but her - Florence could not but observe that - and who, although she always sent for her or went to her when she came home from visiting, and would always go into her room at night, before retiring to rest, however late the hour, and never lost an opportunity of being with her, was often her silent and thoughtful companion for a long time together.
Florence, who had hoped for so much from this marriage, could not help sometimes comparing the bright house with the faded dreary place out of which it had arisen, and wondering when, in any shape, it would begin to be a home; for that it was no home then, for anyone, though everything went on luxuriously and regularly, she had always a secret misgiving. Many an hour of sorrowful reflection by day and night, and many a tear of blighted hope, Florence bestowed upon the assurance her new Mama had given her so strongly, that there was no one on the earth more powerless than herself to teach her how to win her father's heart. And soon Florence began to think - resolved to think would be the truer phrase - that as no one knew so well, how hopeless of being subdued or changed her father's coldness to her was, so she had given her this warning, and forbidden the subject in very compassion. Unselfish here, as in her every act and fancy, Florence preferred to bear the pain of this new wound, rather than encourage any faint foreshadowings of the truth as it concerned her father; tender of him, even in her wandering thoughts. As for his home, she hoped it would become a better one, when its state of novelty and transition should be over; and for herself, thought little and lamented less.
If none of the new family were particularly at home in private, it was resolved that Mrs Dombey at least should be at home in public, without delay. A series of entertainments in celebration of the late nuptials, and in cultivation of society, were arranged, chiefly by Mr Dombey and Mrs Skewton; and it was settled that the festive proceedings should commence by Mrs Dombey's being at home upon a certain evening, and by Mr and Mrs Dombey's requesting the honour of the company of a great many incongruous people to dinner on the same day.
Accordingly, Mr Dombey produced a list of sundry eastern magnates who were to be bidden to this feast on his behalf; to which Mrs Skewton, acting for her dearest child, who was haughtily careless on the subject, subjoined a western list, comprising Cousin Feenix, not yet returned to Baden-Baden, greatly to the detriment of his personal estate; and a variety of moths of various degrees and ages, who had, at various times, fluttered round the light of her fair daughter, or herself, without any lasting injury to their wings. Florence was enrolled as a member of the dinner-party, by Edith's command - elicited by a moment's doubt and hesitation on the part of Mrs Skewton; and Florence, with a wondering heart, and with a quick instinctive sense of everything that grated on her father in the least, took her silent share in the proceedings of the day.
The proceedings commenced by Mr Dombey, in a cravat of extraordinary height and stiffness, walking restlessly about the drawing-room until the hour appointed for dinner; punctual to which, an East India Director,' of immense wealth, in a waistcoat apparently constructed in serviceable deal by some plain carpenter, but really engendered in the tailor's art, and composed of the material called nankeen, arrived and was received by Mr Dombey alone. The next stage of the proceedings was Mr Dombey's sending his compliments to Mrs Dombey, with a correct statement of the time; and the next, the East India Director's falling prostrate, in a conversational point of view, and as Mr Dombey was not the man to pick him up, staring at the fire until rescue appeared in the shape of Mrs Skewton; whom the director, as a pleasant start in life for the evening, mistook for Mrs Dombey, and greeted with enthusiasm.
The next arrival was a Bank Director, reputed to be able to buy up anything - human Nature generally, if he should take it in his head to influence the money market in that direction - but who was a wonderfully modest-spoken man, almost boastfully so, and mentioned his 'little place' at Kingston-upon-Thames, and its just being barely equal to giving Dombey a bed and a chop, if he would come and visit it. Ladies, he said, it was not for a man who lived in his quiet way to take upon himself to invite - but if Mrs Skewton and her daughter, Mrs Dombey, should ever find themselves in that direction, and would do him the honour to look at a little bit of a shrubbery they would find there, and a poor little flower-bed or so, and a humble apology for a pinery, and two or three little attempts of that sort without any pretension, they would distinguish him very much. Carrying out his character, this gentleman was very plainly dressed, in a wisp of cambric for a neckcloth, big shoes, a coat that was too loose for him, and a pair of trousers that were too spare; and mention being made of the Opera by Mrs Skewton, he said he very seldom went there, for he couldn't afford it. It seemed greatly to delight and exhilarate him to say so: and he beamed on his audience afterwards, with his hands in his pockets, and excessive satisfaction twinkling in his eyes.
Now Mrs Dombey appeared, beautiful and proud, and as disdainful and defiant of them all as if the bridal wreath upon her head had been a garland of steel spikes put on to force concession from her which she would die sooner than yield. With her was Florence. When they entered together, the shadow of the night of the return again darkened Mr Dombey's face. But unobserved; for Florence did not venture to raise her eyes to his, and Edith's indifference was too supreme to take the least heed of him.
The arrivals quickly became numerous. More directors, chairmen of public companies, elderly ladies carrying burdens on their heads for full dress, Cousin Feenix, Major Bagstock, friends of Mrs Skewton, with the same bright bloom on their complexion, and very precious necklaces on very withered necks. Among these, a young lady of sixty-five, remarkably coolly dressed as to her back and shoulders, who spoke with an engaging lisp, and whose eyelids wouldn't keep up well, without a great deal of trouble on her part, and whose manners had that indefinable charm which so frequently attaches to the giddiness of youth. As the greater part of Mr Dombey's list were disposed to be taciturn, and the greater part of Mrs Dombey's list were disposed to be talkative, and there was no sympathy between them, Mrs Dombey's list, by magnetic agreement, entered into a bond of union against Mr Dombey's list, who, wandering about the rooms in a desolate manner, or seeking refuge in corners, entangled themselves with company coming in, and became barricaded behind sofas, and had doors opened smartly from without against their heads, and underwent every sort of discomfiture.
When dinner was announced, Mr Dombey took down an old lady like a crimson velvet pincushion stuffed with bank notes, who might have been the identical old lady of Threadneedle Street, she was so rich, and looked so unaccommodating; Cousin Feenix took down Mrs Dombey; Major Bagstock took down Mrs Skewton; the young thing with the shoulders was bestowed, as an extinguisher, upon the East India Director; and the remaining ladies were left on view in the drawing-room by the remaining gentlemen, until a forlorn hope volunteered to conduct them downstairs, and those brave spirits with their captives blocked up the dining-room door, shutting out seven mild men in the stony-hearted hall. When all the rest were got in and were seated, one of these mild men still appeared, in smiling confusion, totally destitute and unprovided for, and, escorted by the butler, made the complete circuit of the table twice before his chair could be found, which it finally was, on Mrs Dombey's left hand; after which the mild man never held up his head again.
Now, the spacious dining-room, with the company seated round the glittering table, busy with their glittering spoons, and knives and forks, and plates, might have been taken for a grown-up exposition of Tom Tiddler's ground, where children pick up gold and silver.' Mr Dombey, as Tiddler, looked his character to admiration; and the long plateau of precious metal frosted, separating him from Mrs Dombey, whereon frosted Cupids offered scentless flowers to each of them, was allegorical to see.
Cousin Feenix was in great force, and looked astonishingly young. But he was sometimes thoughtless in his good humour - his memory occasionally wandering like his legs - and on this occasion caused the company to shudder. It happened thus. The young lady with the back, who regarded Cousin Feenix with sentiments of tenderness, had entrapped the East India Director into leading her to the chair next him; in return for which good office, she immediately abandoned the Director, who, being shaded on the other side by a gloomy black velvet hat surmounting a bony and speechless female with a fan, yielded to a depression of spirits and withdrew into himself. Cousin Feenix and the young lady were very lively and humorous, and the young lady laughed so much at something Cousin Feenix related to her, that Major Bagstock begged leave to inquire on behalf of Mrs Skewton (they were sitting opposite, a little lower down), whether that might not be considered public property.
'Why, upon my life,' said Cousin Feenix, 'there's nothing in it; it really is not worth repeating: in point of fact, it's merely an anecdote of Jack Adams. I dare say my friend Dombey;' for the general attention was concentrated on Cousin Feenix; 'may remember Jack Adams, Jack Adams, not Joe; that was his brother. Jack - little Jack - man with a cast in his eye, and slight impediment in his speech - man who sat for somebody's borough. We used to call him in my parliamentary time W. P. Adams, in consequence of his being Warming Pan for a young fellow who was in his minority. Perhaps my friend Dombey may have known the man?'
Mr Dombey, who was as likely to have known Guy Fawkes, replied in the negative. But one of the seven mild men unexpectedly leaped into distinction, by saying he had known him, and adding - 'always wore Hessian boots!'
'Exactly,' said Cousin Feenix, bending forward to see the mild man, and smile encouragement at him down the table. 'That was Jack. Joe wore - '
'Tops!' cried the mild man, rising in public estimation every Instant.
'Of course,' said Cousin Feenix, 'you were intimate with em?'
'I knew them both,' said the mild man. With whom Mr Dombey immediately took wine.
'Devilish good fellow, Jack!' said Cousin Feenix, again bending forward, and smiling.
'Excellent,' returned the mild man, becoming bold on his success. 'One of the best fellows I ever knew.'
'No doubt you have heard the story?' said Cousin Feenix.
'I shall know,' replied the bold mild man, 'when I have heard your Ludship tell it.' With that, he leaned back in his chair and smiled at the ceiling, as knowing it by heart, and being already tickled.
'In point of fact, it's nothing of a story in itself,' said Cousin Feenix, addressing the table with a smile, and a gay shake of his head, 'and not worth a word of preface. But it's illustrative of the neatness of Jack's humour. The fact is, that Jack was invited down to a marriage - which I think took place in Berkshire?'
'Shropshire,' said the bold mild man, finding himself appealed to.
'Was it? Well! In point of fact it might have been in any shire,' said Cousin Feenix. 'So my friend being invited down to this marriage in Anyshire,' with a pleasant sense of the readiness of this joke, 'goes. Just as some of us, having had the honour of being invited to the marriage of my lovely and accomplished relative with my friend Dombey, didn't require to be asked twice, and were devilish glad to be present on so interesting an occasion. - Goes - Jack goes. Now, this marriage was, in point of fact, the marriage of an uncommonly fine girl with a man for whom she didn't care a button, but whom she accepted on account of his property, which was immense. When Jack returned to town, after the nuptials, a man he knew, meeting him in the lobby of the House of Commons, says, "Well, Jack, how are the ill-matched couple?" "Ill-matched," says Jack "Not at all. It's a perfectly and equal transaction. She is regularly bought, and you may take your oath he is as regularly sold!"'
In his full enjoyment of this culminating point of his story, the shudder, which had gone all round the table like an electric spark, struck Cousin Feenix, and he stopped. Not a smile occasioned by the only general topic of conversation broached that day, appeared on any face. A profound silence ensued; and the wretched mild man, who had been as innocent of any real foreknowledge of the story as the child unborn, had the exquisite misery of reading in every eye that he was regarded as the prime mover of the mischief.
Mr Dombey's face was not a changeful one, and being cast in its mould of state that day, showed little other apprehension of the story, if any, than that which he expressed when he said solemnly, amidst the silence, that it was 'Very good.' There was a rapid glance from Edith towards Florence, but otherwise she remained, externally, impassive and unconscious.
Through the various stages of rich meats and wines, continual gold and silver, dainties of earth, air, fire, and water, heaped-up fruits, and that unnecessary article in Mr Dombey's banquets - ice- the dinner slowly made its way: the later stages being achieved to the sonorous music of incessant double knocks, announcing the arrival of visitors, whose portion of the feast was limited to the smell thereof. When Mrs Dombey rose, it was a sight to see her lord, with stiff throat and erect head, hold the door open for the withdrawal of the ladies; and to see how she swept past him with his daughter on her arm.
Mr Dombey was a grave sight, behind the decanters, in a state of dignity; and the East India Director was a forlorn sight near the unoccupied end of the table, in a state of solitude; and the Major was a military sight, relating stories of the Duke of York to six of the seven mild men (the ambitious one was utterly quenched); and the Bank Director was a lowly sight, making a plan of his little attempt at a pinery, with dessert-knives, for a group of admirers; and Cousin Feenix was a thoughtful sight, as he smoothed his long wristbands and stealthily adjusted his wig. But all these sights were of short duration, being speedily broken up by coffee, and the desertion of the room.
There was a throng in the state-rooms upstairs, increasing every minute; but still Mr Dombey's list of visitors appeared to have some native impossibility of amalgamation with Mrs Dombey's list, and no one could have doubted which was which. The single exception to this rule perhaps was Mr Carker, who now smiled among the company, and who, as he stood in the circle that was gathered about Mrs Dombey - watchful of her, of them, his chief, Cleopatra and the Major, Florence, and everything around - appeared at ease with both divisions of guests, and not marked as exclusively belonging to either.
Florence had a dread of him, which made his presence in the room a nightmare to her. She could not avoid the recollection of it, for her eyes were drawn towards him every now and then, by an attraction of dislike and distrust that she could not resist. Yet her thoughts were busy with other things; for as she sat apart - not unadmired or unsought, but in the gentleness of her quiet spirit - she felt how little part her father had in what was going on, and saw, with pain, how ill at ease he seemed to be, and how little regarded he was as he lingered about near the door, for those visitors whom he wished to distinguish with particular attention, and took them up to introduce them to his wife, who received them with proud coldness, but showed no interest or wish to please, and never, after the bare ceremony of reception, in consultation of his wishes, or in welcome of his friends, opened her lips. It was not the less perplexing or painful to Florence, that she who acted thus, treated her so kindly and with such loving consideration, that it almost seemed an ungrateful return on her part even to know of what was passing before her eyes.
Happy Florence would have been, might she have ventured to bear her father company, by so much as a look; and happy Florence was, in little suspecting the main cause of his uneasiness. But afraid of seeming to know that he was placed at any did advantage, lest he should be resentful of that knowledge; and divided between her impulse towards him, and her grateful affection for Edith; she scarcely dared to raise her eyes towards either. Anxious and unhappy for them both, the thought stole on her through the crowd, that it might have been better for them if this noise of tongues and tread of feet had never come there, - if the old dulness and decay had never been replaced by novelty and splendour, - if the neglected child had found no friend in Edith, but had lived her solitary life, unpitied and forgotten.
Mrs Chick had some such thoughts too, but they were not so quietly developed in her mind. This good matron had been outraged in the first instance by not receiving an invitation to dinner. That blow partially recovered, she had gone to a vast expense to make such a figure before Mrs Dombey at home, as should dazzle the senses of that lady, and heap mortification, mountains high, on the head of Mrs Skewton.
'But I am made,' said Mrs Chick to Mr Chick, 'of no more account than Florence! Who takes the smallest notice of me? No one!'
'No one, my dear,' assented Mr Chick, who was seated by the side of Mrs Chick against the wall, and could console himself, even there, by softly whistling.
'Does it at all appear as if I was wanted here?' exclaimed Mrs Chick, with flashing eyes.
'No, my dear, I don't think it does,' said Mr Chic
'Paul's mad!' said Mrs Chic
Mr Chick whistled.
'Unless you are a monster, which I sometimes think you are,' said Mrs Chick with candour, 'don't sit there humming tunes. How anyone with the most distant feelings of a man, can see that mother-in-law of Paul's, dressed as she is, going on like that, with Major Bagstock, for whom, among other precious things, we are indebted to your Lucretia Tox
'My Lucretia Tox, my dear!' said Mr Chick, astounded.
'Yes,' retorted Mrs Chick, with great severity, 'your Lucretia Tox - I say how anybody can see that mother-in-law of Paul's, and that haughty wife of Paul's, and these indecent old frights with their backs and shoulders, and in short this at home generally, and hum - ' on which word Mrs Chick laid a scornful emphasis that made Mr Chick start, 'is, I thank Heaven, a mystery to me!
Mr Chick screwed his mouth into a form irreconcilable with humming or whistling, and looked very contemplative.
'But I hope I know what is due to myself,' said Mrs Chick, swelling with indignation, 'though Paul has forgotten what is due to me. I am not going to sit here, a member of this family, to be taken no notice of. I am not the dirt under Mrs Dombey's feet, yet - not quite yet,' said Mrs Chick, as if she expected to become so, about the day after to-morrow. 'And I shall go. I will not say (whatever I may think) that this affair has been got up solely to degrade and insult me. I shall merely go. I shall not be missed!'
Mrs Chick rose erect with these words, and took the arm of Mr Chick, who escorted her from the room, after half an hour's shady sojourn there. And it is due to her penetration to observe that she certainly was not missed at all.
But she was not the only indignant guest; for Mr Dombey's list (still constantly in difficulties) were, as a body, indignant with Mrs Dombey's list, for looking at them through eyeglasses, and audibly wondering who all those people were; while Mrs Dombey's list complained of weariness, and the young thing with the shoulders, deprived of the attentions of that gay youth Cousin Feenix (who went away from the dinner-table), confidentially alleged to thirty or forty friends that she was bored to death. All the old ladies with the burdens on their heads, had greater or less cause of complaint against Mr Dombey; and the Directors and Chairmen coincided in thinking that if Dombey must marry, he had better have married somebody nearer his own age, not quite so handsome, and a little better off. The general opinion among this class of gentlemen was, that it was a weak thing in Dombey, and he'd live to repent it. Hardly anybody there, except the mild men, stayed, or went away, without considering himself or herself neglected and aggrieved by Mr Dombey or Mrs Dombey; and the speechless female in the black velvet hat was found to have been stricken mute, because the lady in the crimson velvet had been handed down before her. The nature even of the mild men got corrupted, either from their curdling it with too much lemonade, or from the general inoculation that prevailed; and they made sarcastic jokes to one another, and whispered disparagement on stairs and in bye-places. The general dissatisfaction and discomfort so diffused itself, that the assembled footmen in the hall were as well acquainted with it as the company above. Nay, the very linkmen outside got hold of it, and compared the party to a funeral out of mourning, with none of the company remembered in the will. At last, the guests were all gone, and the linkmen too; and the street, crowded so long with carriages, was clear; and the dying lights showed no one in the rooms, but Mr Dombey and Mr Carker, who were talking together apart, and Mrs Dombey and her mother: the former seated on an ottoman; the latter reclining in the Cleopatra attitude, awaiting the arrival of her maid. Mr Dombey having finished his communication to Carker, the latter advanced obsequiously to take leave.
'I trust,' he said, 'that the fatigues of this delightful evening will not inconvenience Mrs Dombey to-morrow.'
'Mrs Dombey,' said Mr Dombey, advancing, 'has sufficiently spared herself fatigue, to relieve you from any anxiety of that kind. I regret to say, Mrs Dombey, that I could have wished you had fatigued yourself a little more on this occasion.
She looked at him with a supercilious glance, that it seemed not worth her while to protract, and turned away her eyes without speaking.
'I am sorry, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, 'that you should not have thought it your duty -
She looked at him again.
'Your duty, Madam,' pursued Mr Dombey, 'to have received my friends with a little more deference. Some of those whom you have been pleased to slight to-night in a very marked manner, Mrs Dombey, confer a distinction upon you, I must tell you, in any visit they pay you.
'Do you know that there is someone here?' she returned, now looking at him steadily.
'No! Carker! I beg that you do not. I insist that you do not,' cried Mr Dombey, stopping that noiseless gentleman in his withdrawal. 'Mr Carker, Madam, as you know, possesses my confidence. He is as well acquainted as myself with the subject on which I speak. I beg to tell you, for your information, Mrs Dombey, that I consider these wealthy and important persons confer a distinction upon me:' and Mr Dombey drew himself up, as having now rendered them of the highest possible importance.
'I ask you,' she repeated, bending her disdainful, steady gaze upon him, 'do you know that there is someone here, Sir?'
'I must entreat,' said Mr Carker, stepping forward, 'I must beg, I must demand, to be released. Slight and unimportant as this difference is - '
Mrs Skewton, who had been intent upon her daughter's face, took him up here.
'My sweetest Edith,' she said, 'and my dearest Dombey; our excellent friend Mr Carker, for so I am sure I ought to mention him - '
Mr Carker murmured, 'Too much honour.'
' - has used the very words that were in my mind, and that I have been dying, these ages, for an opportunity of introducing. Slight and unimportant! My sweetest Edith, and my dearest Dombey, do we not know that any difference between you two - No, Flowers; not now.
Flowers was the maid, who, finding gentlemen present, retreated with precipitation.
'That any difference between you two,' resumed Mrs Skewton, 'with the Heart you possess in common, and the excessively charming bond of feeling that there is between you, must be slight and unimportant? What words could better define the fact? None. Therefore I am glad to take this slight occasion - this trifling occasion, that is so replete with Nature, and your individual characters, and all that - so truly calculated to bring the tears into a parent's eyes - to say that I attach no importance to them in the least, except as developing these minor elements of Soul; and that, unlike most Mamas-in-law (that odious phrase, dear Dombey!) as they have been represented to me to exist in this I fear too artificial world, I never shall attempt to interpose between you, at such a time, and never can much regret, after all, such little flashes of the torch of What's-his-name - not Cupid, but the other delightful creature.
There was a sharpness in the good mother's glance at both her children as she spoke, that may have been expressive of a direct and well-considered purpose hidden between these rambling words. That purpose, providently to detach herself in the beginning from all the clankings of their chain that were to come, and to shelter herself with the fiction of her innocent belief in their mutual affection, and their adaptation to each other.
'I have pointed out to Mrs Dombey,' said Mr Dombey, in his most stately manner, 'that in her conduct thus early in our married life, to which I object, and which, I request, may be corrected. Carker,' with a nod of dismissal, 'good-night to you!'
Mr Carker bowed to the imperious form of the Bride, whose sparkling eye was fixed upon her husband; and stopping at Cleopatra's couch on his way out, raised to his lips the hand she graciously extended to him, in lowly and admiring homage.
If his handsome wife had reproached him, or even changed countenance, or broken the silence in which she remained, by one word, now that they were alone (for Cleopatra made off with all speed), Mr Dombey would have been equal to some assertion of his case against her. But the intense, unutterable, withering scorn, with which, after looking upon him, she dropped her eyes, as if he were too worthless and indifferent to her to be challenged with a syllable - the ineffable disdain and haughtiness in which she sat before him - the cold inflexible resolve with which her every feature seemed to bear him down, and put him by - these, he had no resource against; and he left her, with her whole overbearing beauty concentrated on despising him.
Was he coward enough to watch her, an hour afterwards, on the old well staircase, where he had once seen Florence in the moonlight, toiling up with Paul? Or was he in the dark by accident, when, looking up, he saw her coming, with a light, from the room where Florence lay, and marked again the face so changed, which he could not subdue?
But it could never alter as his own did. It never, in its uttermost pride and passion, knew the shadow that had fallen on his, in the dark corner, on the night of the return; and often since; and which deepened on it now, as he looked up.
接连许多天都在相似的情况下过去了。所不同的是：他们在这段时间里曾接待了很多来访的客人，也出外访问了很多人；斯丘顿夫人在她自己的房间里举行小小的接见，白格斯托克少校是经常的参加者；弗洛伦斯虽然每天都看到父亲，但却没有再遇见他投来的眼光。她跟她的新妈妈也没有交谈得很多，新妈妈除了对她一人之外，对屋子里所有其他的人都威严、傲慢（弗洛伦斯不能不注意到这一点）；虽然她从外面访问回来以后经常派人来请弗洛伦斯或到弗洛伦斯那里去；在她睡觉之前，不论时间多么晚，她总经常跑到弗洛伦斯房间里去，不放过跟她在一起的任何机会；可是当她们两人在一起的时候，她经常是长时间地坐在那里，默默无言，在沉思着。
对这次结婚曾经抱有很多希望的弗洛伦斯有时情不自禁地把这座富丽堂皇的公馆跟它的前身——过去那座暗淡、凄凉的老房屋加以比较。心中纳闷：不论房屋的形式如何，究竟到什么时候它才开始可以称为一个家呢？因为她经常暗自忧虑：虽然一切都安排得奢华、舒适，进行得井井有条，可是没有一个人感到这是一个家。弗洛伦斯日日夜夜悲伤地思考了许多小时，并由于希望破灭而流出了许多眼泪；她时常研究着她的新妈妈对她所做出的有力的断言：世界上没有一个人能比她更没有能力教她怎样去赢得父亲的欢心。不久，弗洛伦斯开始想——更正确地说，是打定主意去想——，她的新妈妈比任何人都清楚，要使她父亲减轻或改变对她的冷淡是多么没有希望，所以才出于怜悯向她提出了那个警告：禁止谈到这个问题。弗洛伦斯就像她每个行动和思想中所表现的那样，不是一个自私的人，她这时宁肯忍受这个新创伤的痛苦，也不愿意把关于她父亲的真情的微弱的预感更深一层地想下去；甚至在她浮思漫想中想到他的时候，她对他也还是怀着亲切的感情。至于他的家，她希望当一切安排就绪，新生活走上轨道以后，它将会变得好起来；至于她自己，她想得很少，悲伤得更少。
如果说新家庭的成员中没有一个人私下里感到真正是在自己家里一样的话，那么有一点已经作出了决定：董贝夫人至少应当毫不迟延地在家里举行招待会，在众人面前表现为真正在自己家里一样①。为了庆贺新婚和加强社会联系，主要由董贝先生和斯丘顿夫人安排了一系列款待项目；决定庆贺活动首先由董贝夫人在一个晚上在家里举行招待会，接见客人，并由董贝先生和夫人在同一天晚上举行宴会，邀请许多各种各样的人们参加。
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①英文athome这个短语有几个意义。一个意义是：像在自己家里一样毫无拘束；另一个意义是在家里举行招待会。狄更斯在这里一语双关地使用了这个短语。
因此，董贝先生开列了一份坐在宴席东边的豪富们的名单，并以他的名义邀请他们光临这次宴会；由于伊迪丝傲慢地对这事毫不关心，所以由斯丘顿夫人代表她的最亲爱的女儿补充了一份坐在宴席西边的宾客的名单，其中包括菲尼克斯表哥（他还没有回到巴登—巴登，但动产已遭到了很大的损失）；还有其他各种等级和年龄的人们，他们曾经像飞蛾一样在不同的时间中在她漂亮的女儿或她本人的亮光周围振翼飞舞，而没有严重损坏翅膀。根据伊迪丝的嘱咐，弗洛伦斯被列为参加这次宴会的一位成员，斯丘顿夫人对此曾疑惑或犹豫了片刻；弗洛伦斯对刺激她父亲的任何事情有着本能的敏感，所以怀着奇妙的心情，默默无言地参加了这天的庆宴。
董贝先生佩了一条非常长、浆得非常硬的领带，在庆祝活动开始的时候，在客厅里不停地走来走去，直到举行宴会的预定时间到来为止。东印度公司的董事准时来到，董贝先生只一个人迎接了他；他是一位大富豪，他的背心表面上看去好像是由普通木匠用耐用的松木板做成的，但实际上是由缝纫师用一种叫做南京本色棉布的材料缝制成的。庆祝活动的下一步是董贝先生派人去向董贝夫人致意，准确地指明现在的时间；在这之后，从谈话的角度来说，东印度公司的董事可说已生命垂危、奄奄一息了，一直注视着炉火的董贝先生不能使他起死回生，直到斯丘顿夫人前来搭救，他的生命才有了转机；这位董事把她误会为董贝夫人，热情地向她问候，这是他在这天晚上复活过来的愉快的起点。
第二位到达的是银行董事；他以具有全部收买任何东西的能力而闻名——如果他认为能影响金融市场的话，那么他通常就收买人性——，但是他是言语非常谦逊的人，谦逊得几乎到了夸张的程度；他谈到他在泰晤士河①旁金斯敦那里的“寒舍”，如果董贝先生肯去访问的话，那么它可以勉强地为他提供一张床和一盘排骨。至于夫人们，他说，像他这样一个过着平静生活的人向她们发出邀请是不合适的，但是如果斯丘顿夫人和她的女儿董贝夫人将来什么时候顺便去到那一带地方，肯赏光去看一看那里一点点灌木丛、一个可怜的小花坛、一个滥竽充数的菠萝温室和两、三种诸如此类、没有什么值得夸赞的尝试的话，那么他将感到不胜荣幸之至。这位先生衣着十分简朴，充分体现出他谦逊的性格：他用一段纤细的麻纱白葛充当领饰，他的鞋子很大，外套太肥大，裤子又太窄小；当斯丘顿夫人谈到歌剧的时候，他说他很少上剧院去，因为他出不起买票的钱。这个回答似乎使他感到极大的高兴和兴奋，后来他把手放在衣袋里，笑逐颜开地看着他的听众，眼睛闪着亮光，流露出极大满足的神气。
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①泰晤士河：英国南部最重要的河流，全长336公里，经牛津、伦敦等重要城市，东流注入北海。
这时董贝夫人来到了，姿容美丽，神态高傲；她目空一切，蔑视他们所有的人，仿佛她头上新娘的花冠是钢针穿成的圆环，戴在她头上的目的是为了要逼迫她让步，而她却宁肯死去也不肯屈服。和她在一起的是弗洛伦斯。当她们一道走进来的时候，董贝先生脸上又笼罩上一层跟他回家来那天晚上同样的阴影，但是没有被人察觉，因为弗洛伦斯不敢抬起眼睛去看他，伊迪丝则冷淡到了无以复加的地步，根本就不会去注意他。
来到的客人很快地增加了好多。又有一些公司的董事、总经理，还有穿着盛装、头上戴着沉甸甸的节庆饰物的老夫人们，菲尼克斯表哥，白格斯托克少校，以及斯丘顿夫人的朋友们。斯丘顿夫人的朋友们跟她一样，脸上涂得鲜红、十分枯瘦的脖子上戴着贵重的项链。在这当中，有一位六十五岁，但打扮得十分年轻的夫人，衣服穿得惊人的单薄，背和肩膀大部分裸露在外面；她说话的时候，吐字不清，吸引了人们的注意；她的眼皮需要她费很大的劲才能支撑起来；她的举止中具有一种难以形容的魅力，那是在轻浮的年轻人身上才时常可以看到的。由于董贝先生名单上的大部分客人沉默寡言，董贝夫人名单上的大部分客人则喜爱说话，他们相互之间不存在相同的地方，所以董贝夫人名单上的客人由于磁性一致的作用，就结成同盟，反对董贝先生名单上的客人。董贝先生名单上的客人们孤孤单单地在房间里走来走去，或者为了躲藏在角落里，就跟新进来的人相互碰撞，或者隐蔽在沙发后面，成了行路的障碍，当门猛地一下从外面向里推开的时候，他们的头就被门碰上，并遭受种种不快。
当仆人前来通报宴席已经摆好了的时候，董贝先生搀扶着一位老夫人下餐厅去，这位老夫人很像是一个塞满了钞票的、深红色的丝绒的针插，她可能真的就是针线街的老太太①，因为她是那么有钱，看上去又那么不肯通融；菲尼克斯表哥搀扶着董贝夫人；白格斯托克少校搀扶着斯丘顿夫人；袒露着肩膀、打扮得十分年轻的夫人，作为使其他女士们相形见绌的佼佼者，赏给了东印度公司的董事，其余的夫人们留在客厅里被其余的先生们观赏，直到一些敢于冒险的勇士们自告奋勇，把她们护送下去为止；这些勇士们和他们的俘虏们把餐厅的门口堵塞得水泄不通，有位懦怯的男子就被阻留在冷酷无情的门厅中。当所有的人都已进去就座的时候，这些懦怯的客人当中还有一位发窘地露着笑容，依旧束手无策，没有得到安排，直到后来，在男管家的陪同下，绕着桌子整整转了两圈，才找到了他的座位；最后发现，他的座位是在董贝夫人的左手；这位懦怯的客人入座之后，就再也没有抬起头来过。
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①针线街的老太太：英格兰银行的谑称。英格兰银行位于伦敦针线街；17世纪时有一家缝纫商行建在这条街上，因此这条街就得到了这个名称。
客人们围坐在闪闪发光的餐桌四周，忙碌不停地使用着闪闪发光的匙子、刀叉、盘子。这时候，这宽阔的餐厅可以看作是孩子们捡拾金银的汤姆•蒂德勒地段①的放大的场景。董贝先生美满地扮演了蒂德勒的角色。把他跟董贝夫人隔开的贵金属雕花托盘，上面画着有着霜状表面的丘比德向他们两人递送去没有香气的花朵，使人看了觉得含有讽喻的意味。
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①汤姆•蒂德勒地段：指不属于任何人的地段，特别指两个国家之间的中立地区；在这一地带找到的一切，归找得者私有。据此，有一种同名的儿童游戏，内容是到汤姆•蒂德勒地段的宝山去捡金银，捡到的金银就归自己所有。
菲尼克斯表哥精神饱满，情绪活跃，看上去惊人的年轻。可是他在兴高采烈的时候，有时说话缺乏考虑——他的脑子跟他的腿一样，有时不听指挥，偏离了正道——，这天晚上他竟使得参加宴会的人们打了个冷战。情况是这样发生的：那位后背袒露、打扮得很年轻的夫人对菲尼克斯表哥脉脉含情，于是耍了个圈套，让东印度公司的董事陪送她到挨近菲尼克斯表哥的座位上；她一入座之后，立即把董事撇在一旁，作为对他忠诚效劳的报答。董事的另一旁是一位皮包骨头、默默无言、拿着一把扇子的女士，她戴的一顶阴沉的黑丝绒的帽子挡着他的荫，他就只好垂头丧气，孤零零地坐在那里。菲尼克斯表哥和打扮得很年轻的夫人兴致勃勃，谈笑风生；打扮得很年轻的夫人听了菲尼克斯表哥跟她讲的一个什么故事，扬声大笑，白格斯托克少校就代表斯丘顿夫人（他们在挨近桌子的另一端，对面坐着）请求允许他问一下，是不是可以把这故事讲出来，让大家都来欣赏欣赏。
“啊，以我的生命发誓，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“这没有什么特别的东西，它确实不值得再说一遍，事实上这只不过是杰克•亚当斯的一段轶事。我想，我的朋友董贝（因为这时在座的人注意力都集中在菲尼克斯表哥身上）可能记得杰克•亚当斯，是杰克•亚当斯，不是乔——乔是他的哥哥。杰克——小杰克——眼睛有点斜视，说话有点结巴——，他是代表一个有议员选举权的城市的。我当下院议员的时候，我们都管他叫暖床器亚当斯，因为他曾经当过一个年轻人未成年前的就职代理人①，也许我的朋友董贝知道这个人吧。”
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①英文warmingpan有两个意义，一为暖床器，一为年轻人未成年前的就职代理人。这里是诙谐地使用了双关语。
董贝先生只可能知道盖伊•福克斯①，所以作了否定的答复。可是出人意料之外，那七个懦怯的客人当中的一位引人注目地说道，他认识他，还补充说，“他经常穿黑森士兵的长靴！②”
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①盖伊•福克斯（GuyFawkes）：英国历史中1605年11月5日火药阴谋案中的主犯，企图炸死议员及英王詹姆士一世。
②黑森士兵的长靴：黑森是德国西南部的一个州。黑森士兵穿的长靴，膝前有精致、优美的饰穗。
“一点不错，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，一边向前探出身子去看看这位懦怯的人，对坐在桌子最下端的他笑嘻嘻地表示鼓励，“这是杰克。乔穿的是——”
“长筒靴！”那位懦怯的人喊道；他在众人心目中的地位每一秒钟都在提高。
“当然，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“您跟他们很熟吧？”
“我认识他们两人，”那位懦怯的人说道。董贝先生立刻和他碰了杯。
“这杰克真是个非常好的人”，菲尼克斯表哥又笑嘻嘻地向前探出身子，说道。
“好极了，”那位懦怯的人回答道，他由于取得成功，因而胆子大起来了，“他是我所认识的最好的人当中的一个。”
“毫无疑问，您已经听到这个故事了？”菲尼克斯表哥问道。
“现在还不敢说，”这位胆子大起来的懦怯的人回答道，“听您阁下说了才知道。”他一边说，一边仰靠在椅背上，望着天花板微笑着，好像他熟记这个故事，早已被逗乐了。
“事实上，这件事本身根本算不了什么故事，”菲尼克斯表哥笑嘻嘻地对着全桌的客人，快活地摇摇头，说道，“用不着一句开场白。但是这说明了杰克灵巧的机智。事情是这样的：杰克有一次被邀请去参加一个婚礼——这个婚礼我想是在巴克郡举行的吧？”
“什罗郡，”那位胆子大起来的懦怯的人看到大家都在等待着他，就这样回答道。
“是那里吗？事实上也可能在任何一个郡举行，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“我的朋友就这样被邀请到任何郡去参加这次婚礼，”他对这笑话立刻会引起哄堂大笑感到很高兴，“他去了。正像我们当中有些人荣幸地被邀请来参加我可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚跟我的朋友董贝的婚礼一样，不需要别人邀请两次，去出席这么有趣的场面真是了不得的高兴。所以，他——杰克就去了。可是这个婚姻事实上是一个异常漂亮的女孩子跟一个她连一丁点儿爱情也没有的男人的婚姻，她是因为贪图他的财产才同意嫁给他的。当杰克参加婚礼之后回到城里的时候，一位跟他认识的人在下院的休息室里碰见他，问他‘唔，杰克，这错配了的两口子怎么样？’‘错配！’杰克回答道，‘根本不是什么错配。这完全是公平交易。她是正正规规地被买下来，而他，您也可以发誓说，是正正规规地被卖出去的！’”
可是当菲尼克斯表哥正满腔欢乐地到达他的故事的最高潮的时候，全桌人都像接触到电火花似地打了个冷战，这使他猛吃一惊，就停止了说话。这个成为这一天大家普遍参加的谈话的唯一话题在任何人的脸上也没有引起微笑。接着是一片鸦雀无声的沉默；那位不幸的懦怯的人事前对这故事就像对一个还没出世的孩子一样，一无所知，现在他从每只眼睛中都可以看到，他被大家看成是这次祸害的元凶，心中感到剧烈的痛苦。
董贝先生的脸孔并不是容易变化的脸孔，这天他还是和平日一样，摆出一副一本正经的态度；他在静默中只是郑重地说了一声“很好”，此外，对这个故事就没有任何其他表示理解的反应。伊迪丝朝弗洛伦斯迅速地看了一眼，可是除此之外她在表面上还继续保持着冷冷淡淡、漠不关心的态度。
宴会通过了各个不同的阶段：丰富的肉，芳醇的酒，连接不断的金银器皿，代表泥土、空气、火、水的各种美味佳肴，成堆的水果，还有董贝先生的宴会上完全不需要的东西——冰，这顿晚餐渐渐地接近结束；在后几个阶段中，不断听到两下敲门的响亮，通报客人来到；这些晚到的客人们只能闻闻宴会的香味而已。当董贝夫人站起来的时候，她的丈夫脖子坚挺，脑袋直竖，手按着打开的门，让夫人们一一走出去，这一情景是很值得看一看的；董贝夫人胳膊挽着他的女儿，从他身旁匆匆走过的情景也是值得看一看的。
董贝先生威风凛凛地坐在细颈圆酒瓶后面时，是一幅庄严的景象；东印度公司的董事孤孤单单地坐在桌子空荡荡的另一头的近旁时，是一幅凄凉的景象；少校向七位懦怯的人当中的六位（爱虚荣的那一位已经完全陷于绝境了）讲约克郡公爵的轶事时，是一幅英武的景象；银行董事用吃点心的小刀向一群崇拜者描画他有小菠萝温室的平面图时，是一幅谦逊的景象；菲尼克斯表哥抚平长袖口，偷偷地整整假发时，是一幅沉思的景象。可是所有这些景象持续的时间都很短，因为很快就喝咖啡，而且大家不久都离开了餐厅。
楼上大厅里的人群每分钟都在增加；可是跟先前一样，董贝先生名单上的客人们跟董贝夫人名单上的客人们混杂在一起的可能性是天然不存在的，任何人也不会分辨不清，谁是属于哪一份名单上的。这一规则唯一例外的情形也许可以算是卡克先生吧。他向所有的人都露出微笑，站在聚集在董贝夫人周围的人群中，注视着她，注视着他们。注视着他的老板、克利奥佩特拉、少校、弗洛伦斯以及四周的一切；他跟这两帮客人相处得都无拘无束，看不出是属于哪一帮的。
弗洛伦斯害怕他，他在房间里对她来说是个梦魇。她不能忘记有他在场，由于她不能抗拒对他的厌恶与不信任，因此她的眼睛不时朝他那边望一下。可是她的思想却在翻腾着别的事情，因为当她坐在一旁的时候——并不是由于没有人爱慕她或寻找她，而是由于她安静、文雅的性格才坐在一旁的——，她觉得她的父亲在流行着的活动中是多么不起作用；她痛苦地看到，他似乎是多么不自在；当他停留在门旁，迎接着那些他希望特别厚待的客人，并把他们领去介绍给他的妻子的时候，他又是多么不受尊重；他的妻子高傲地、冷漠地接见了这些客人，但丝毫也没有兴趣或愿望去讨他们的喜欢；在煞风景的接见仪式之后，她也没有考虑他的愿望或对他的朋友表示欢迎，一直不开口说一句话。使弗洛伦斯同样困惑不解或痛苦的是，这样行事的伊迪丝却这么亲切，这么慈爱、体贴地对待她；就她来说，甚至连注意到在她眼前所发生的这一切情形，几乎都好像是忘恩负义似的。
弗洛伦斯如果敢哪怕用眼光陪伴一下父亲的话，那么她该会多么幸福啊！但弗洛伦斯没有去猜疑他不自在的主要原因，就这一点来说她倒是幸福的。不过，她害怕表露出她似乎知道他处于不利的境地，唯恐他会对她愤怒不满；加上她一方面情不自禁地想亲近他，一方面又对伊迪丝怀着感激的感情，处在这样矛盾冲突的心情中，她就不敢抬起眼睛去看他们两人当中的任何一个人。她为他们两人感到焦急不安，郁郁不乐，所以在拥挤的人群中，她心中暗暗地产生了这样一些想法：如果这里从来就听不到这些嘈杂热闹的谈话声和走来走去的脚步声，如果往日沉闷无趣、凄凉冷落的景象从来就没有被现在新颖别致和富丽堂皇的景象所代替，如果这个受到冷落的孩子从来没有从伊迪丝那里找到友谊，而是一直过着她那被人遗忘、没人可怜的孤独的生活的话，那么对他们来说，这也许反倒比现在更好。
奇克夫人也有一些这样的想法，但是这些想法并不是平平静静地在她的心中展开。这位善良的家庭主妇一开头就因为没有被邀请参加晚宴而受到了侮辱。她从这个打击中部分恢复过来之后，不惜破费大笔金钱，决心把自己打扮成一位穿着豪华的人物，在招待会上出现在董贝夫人的面前，使她见了眼花缭乱，并在斯丘顿夫人头上堆上高山般重重的屈辱。
“可是我却被看得连弗洛伦斯也不如了！”奇克夫人对奇克先生说道，“有谁丝毫注意过我？谁也没有！”
“谁也没有，我亲爱的，”奇克先生同意地说道。他背靠着墙，坐在奇克夫人的身旁，甚至在这里，他也只能轻轻地吹吹口哨，聊以自慰。
“这有一点点像需要我在这里的样子吗？”奇克夫人眼睛闪发出亮光，高声喊叫道。
“不错，我亲爱的，我看不像，”奇克先生说道。
“保罗疯了！”奇克夫人说道。
奇克先生吹吹口哨。
“除非你是个怪物（有时我觉得你真的就是个怪物），”奇克夫人坦率地说道，“那就别坐在这里吹你的小调了。一个人哪怕稍稍有点男子汉的感情，怎么能看得住保罗的岳母打扮成那副模样，在跟白格斯托克少校卖弄风情？别的使人愉快的事情就别提了，就是这个白格斯托克少校今天能在这里，我们也还得感谢你的卢克丽霞•托克斯——”
“我的卢克丽霞•托克斯！”奇克先生吃惊地说道。
“是的，”奇克夫人很严厉地回答道，“你的卢克丽霞•托克斯！我要问，不论是什么人，看到保罗这位岳母，保罗这位傲慢的老婆，这些光裸着后背和肩膀的不成体统的老丑八怪们，总之一句话，看到今天这样的招待会，怎么还能有心情哼小调呢？”奇克夫人在最后几个字上冷嘲热讽地加重了语气，使奇克先生吓了一跳。“这对我来说，谢谢上天，真是一件不可思议的事情。”
奇克先生把嘴巴扭歪成根本无法哼小调或吹口哨的形状，并似乎很用心地在沉思着。
“虽然保罗已经忘记我该享受的权利了，“奇克夫人火冒三丈，说道，“但我希望，我知道我本人应该享受什么权利。我是这个家庭的一名成员；我不打算在这里坐着，让人不理不睬。我不是董贝夫人脚下的烂泥，现在还不是，”奇克夫人说道，仿佛她预料后天就会变成这烂泥似的，“我要走！我不说（不管我怎么想）这一切安排的唯一目的就是要贬低我，侮辱我。我将直截了当，一走了之。我不在，他们也不会发觉！”
奇克夫人一边这么说着，一边笔直地站了起来，挽着奇克先生的胳膊，离开了这个他们在偏僻的角落里逗留了半个小时的房间。她真能洞察一切：她不在，确实完全没有被人发觉。
不过她并不是唯一的愤怒的客人；因为董贝先生名单上客人们（他们依旧不断地处于困难的境地中）一致对董贝夫人名单上的客人们感到愤怒，因为她们通过单眼镜看他们，并大声说不知道这些人是谁。在这同时，董贝夫人名单上的客人们抱怨疲乏；那位袒露着肩膀、打扮得很年轻的夫人，失掉那位快活的年轻人菲尼克斯表哥（他在宴会结束之后就走了）的照顾之后，对三、四十个朋友秘密地宣称，她厌烦得要死。头上戴满了沉甸甸的饰物的老夫人们都有或大或小的理由抱怨董贝夫人。那些公司的董事和总经理们心里都一致认为，如果董贝一定要结婚，他最好娶一位跟他年纪比较接近的人，别这么漂亮，但家境要宽裕一些才好；这一类身份的先生们普遍的看法是，这是董贝的失着，他以后会后悔的。除了那些懦怯的人之外，留在那里或走开的人，几乎没有一位不认为自己从董贝先生或董贝夫人那里受到冷落或委屈的。后来才知道，那位戴黑丝绒帽子、默默无言的夫人就是因为那位穿深红丝绒衣服的夫人比她先被搀扶到餐厅里去才气得一言不发的。甚至连那些懦怯的男子的脾气也变坏了，这或者是由于他们喝了过多的柠檬汁，性格发生了变化，或者是由于他们受到整个房间的气氛的感染的缘故；他们在楼梯上和偏僻的角落里相互讽刺嘲笑，并低声说些诽谤的话。普遍的不满与不快广泛地扩散开来，聚集在门厅里的仆人们也跟楼上的客人们一样感觉到这一点。甚至连等候在屋外、拿着火炬给大家照路的仆人也了解到这一点，他们把这个庆祝宴会跟那种在死者遗嘱里没有提到任何人、因而听不到哀哭的葬礼相比。
最后，所有的客人都走了，拿着火炬给大家照路的仆人也走了。长时间被马车堵塞的街道已畅通了。房间里将要燃尽的烛光只照着在一旁交谈的董贝先生和卡克先生，以及董贝夫人和他的母亲，没有别的人了。董贝夫人坐在绒垫睡椅上，她的母亲仿照克利奥佩特拉的姿态躺着等待侍女前来。董贝先生和卡克谈话结束之后，卡克谄媚讨好地走上前来告别。
“我希望，”他说道，“董贝夫人经过这愉快的晚上所感到的劳累不会使她明天觉得不舒服。”
“董贝夫人已经充分地节省了她的劳累，”董贝先生走上前来，说道，“因此您丝毫不用在这方面替她担心。董贝夫人，我很遗憾地想说，我实在希望在今天这样的场合，您能比往常稍许劳累一些才好。”
她傲慢地向他看了一眼，似乎不值得再看他，就一言不发地转开了视线。
“我感到遗憾，夫人，”董贝先生说道，“您竟没有想到这是您的责任——”
她又看了看他。
“夫人，”董贝先生继续说道，“您应当对我的朋友表示更敬重一些，这是您的责任。这些人当中有几位，您今天晚上很明显地怠慢了他们，而我要告诉您，他们前来拜访，是给了您极大的体面。”
“您知道这里还有别人吗？”她这时一动不动地看着他，回答道。
“别走！卡克！我请您别走。我坚决要求您别走。”董贝先生拦住那位默不作声往外走的先生，喊道，“夫人，您知道，卡克先生是深得我信任的人。我所说的问题，他跟我一样清楚。请允许我告诉您，让您了解，董贝夫人，我认为这些富有的、重要的人物给了我极大的体面。”董贝先生挺了挺身子，仿佛现在已向他们表示了极大的敬意似的。
“我问您，”她重复地说道，一边用轻蔑的眼光注视着他，“您知道这里还有别人吗，先生？”
“我必须请求，”卡克先生向前走了一步，说道，“我必须恳求，我必须要求让我离开，不管这争执是多么微不足道、无关紧要——”
斯丘顿夫人一直在注视着女儿的脸孔，这时把他的话接了过去。
“我最亲爱的伊迪丝，”她说道，“还有我最亲爱的董贝；我们的卓越的朋友卡克先生，因为我确实应当这样称呼他才是——”
卡克先生轻轻地说道，“您过份夸奖了。真是不胜荣幸之至”。
“他使用了我心里想要说的语言，在这一段时间里我一直渴望着有一个机会把它表示出来。微不足道、无关紧要！我最宝贝的伊迪丝，还有我亲爱的董贝，难道我们不知道，你们两人之间的任何争执——不，弗劳尔斯，现在不。”
弗劳尔斯就是那位侍女，她看到有先生们在场，就急忙退出去了。
“你们两人心心相印，”斯丘顿夫人继续说下去，“一条美妙的感情纽带把你们联结在一起；难道我们不知道，你们俩之间的任何争执，必然是微不足道，无关紧要的吗？还有什么语言能更好地表述这一事实？没有！因此，我高兴地利用这个小小的机会，这个微不足道的机会——人类的天性，你们个人的性格以及引起母亲流泪的一切都在这时候充分显露出来了——说一下，我丝毫也不认为这有什么重要的意义，我认为这只不过是人类心灵中那些毫不足取的因素在发生作用罢了；我不像大多数的丈母娘（多么讨厌的词儿哟，亲爱的董贝！在这个我担心太虚伪的世界上，我听说她们确实是存在的），我今后决不打算在这种时候介入到你们当中来干预你们的事情，也决不会因为——他叫什么——不是丘比德，而是另外一个可爱的人儿①的火炬中有一点小小爆燃的闪光而感到十分难过。”
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①斯丘顿夫人是想说许墨奈俄斯（Hymenaeus，英译为Hymen），希腊与罗马神话中的司婚姻之神；在造型艺术中，他是个戴着鲜花项圈，手执火炬的少年。
这位好母亲说话的时候，向她的两个孩子投去了锐利的眼光，它可能已把隐匿在这些层次杂乱的话语中的一个直截了当、经过深思熟虑的意图表达出来了。这个意图就是，她打一开头就精明地退缩到一旁，不去听他们的链条将来叮当撞击的，并且躲藏在她天真地相信他们情投意合和相互体贴这一虚构的幻影之中。
“我已向董贝夫人指出了，”董贝先生以他最庄严的态度说道，“我们婚后生活初期中她的行为中我所不满意、我要求改正的地方。卡克，”他向他点点头，让他出去，“祝您晚安！”
卡克先生向傲慢的新婚夫人鞠了个躬，她的眼睛一动不动地注视着她的丈夫；他向门口走去的时候，在克利奥佩特拉的长沙发旁边停住，以十分卑躬屈节、喜不自胜的敬意吻了吻她和蔼亲切地向他伸过来的手。
当房间里只剩下他们两人的时候（因为克利奥佩特拉已急急忙忙地离开了），如果他的漂亮的妻子责备了他，或者改变了脸色，或者说一句话来打破现在的沉默的话，那么董贝先生是能够挺身维护他的权利的。可是她看过他之后，以强烈的、难以形容的、令人畏缩的轻蔑的神色，低下了眼睛，仿佛对她来说，他是太没有价值，太无关紧要，根本不值得她开口去反驳他似的；她目空一切，无比傲慢地坐在他的前面；她仿佛要用她那冷酷的、毫不改变的决心把他压倒和踢开似的；——对于她的这种轻蔑和傲慢，他却束手无策。他离开了她，留下她那傲气十足的美貌，心中极度地蔑视他。
是不是他很胆怯，所以在一个钟头以后，他要在他过去有一次看到弗洛伦斯在月光下抱着小保罗费劲地走上去的那个楼梯间里，有意在暗中监视她呢？还是他在黑暗中偶尔出现在那里呢？当他抬起眼睛的时候，他看到她手中拿着一支蜡烛从弗洛伦斯睡觉的房间中走出来，并且再一次注意到那张他不能征服的脸孔改变成另一种神态。
可是它决不会像他的脸孔那样改变。它在极度的傲慢与愤怒中，从来也不知道他们回到家来的那天夜间，在那个黑暗的角落里笼罩在他脸上的阴影；从那以后，他脸上时常出现这个阴影，现在当他往上看的时候，他脸上的这个阴影变得更为深沉了。
Chapter 37
More Warnings than One

Florence, Edith, and Mrs Skewton were together next day, and the carriage was waiting at the door to take them out. For Cleopatra had her galley again now, and Withers, no longer the-wan, stood upright in a pigeon-breasted jacket and military trousers, behind her wheel-less chair at dinner-time and butted no more. The hair of Withers was radiant with pomatum, in these days of down, and he wore kid gloves and smelt of the water of Cologne.
They were assembled in Cleopatra's room The Serpent of old Nile (not to mention her disrespectfully) was reposing on her sofa, sipping her morning chocolate at three o'clock in the afternoon, and Flowers the Maid was fastening on her youthful cuffs and frills, and performing a kind of private coronation ceremony on her, with a peach-coloured velvet bonnet; the artificial roses in which nodded to uncommon advantage, as the palsy trifled with them, like a breeze.
'I think I am a little nervous this morning, Flowers,' said Mrs Skewton. 'My hand quite shakes.'
'You were the life of the party last night, Ma'am, you know,' returned Flowers, ' and you suffer for it, to-day, you see.'
Edith, who had beckoned Florence to the window, and was looking out, with her back turned on the toilet of her esteemed mother, suddenly withdrew from it, as if it had lightened.
'My darling child,' cried Cleopatra, languidly, 'you are not nervous? Don't tell me, my dear Edith, that you, so enviably self-possessed, are beginning to be a martyr too, like your unfortunately constituted mother! Withers, someone at the door.'
'Card, Ma'am,' said Withers, taking it towards Mrs Dombey.
'I am going out,' she said without looking at it.
'My dear love,' drawled Mrs Skewton, 'how very odd to send that message without seeing the name! Bring it here, Withers. Dear me, my love; Mr Carker, too! That very sensible person!'
'I am going out,' repeated Edith, in so imperious a tone that Withers, going to the door, imperiously informed the servant who was waiting, 'Mrs Dombey is going out. Get along with you,' and shut it on him.'
But the servant came back after a short absence, and whispered to Withers again, who once more, and not very willingly, presented himself before Mrs Dombey.
'If you please, Ma'am, Mr Carker sends his respectful compliments, and begs you would spare him one minute, if you could - for business, Ma'am, if you please.'
'Really, my love,' said Mrs Skewton in her mildest manner; for her daughter's face was threatening; 'if you would allow me to offer a word, I should recommend - '
'Show him this way,' said Edith. As Withers disappeared to execute the command, she added, frowning on her mother, 'As he comes at your recommendation, let him come to your room.'
'May I - shall I go away?' asked Florence, hurriedly.
Edith nodded yes, but on her way to the door Florence met the visitor coming in. With the same disagreeable mixture of familiarity and forbearance, with which he had first addressed her, he addressed her now in his softest manner - hoped she was quite well - needed not to ask, with such looks to anticipate the answer - had scarcely had the honour to know her, last night, she was so greatly changed - and held the door open for her to pass out; with a secret sense of power in her shrinking from him, that all the deference and politeness of his manner could not quite conceal.
He then bowed himself for a moment over Mrs Skewton's condescending hand, and lastly bowed to Edith. Coldly returning his salute without looking at him, and neither seating herself nor inviting him to be seated, she waited for him to speak.
Entrenched in her pride and power, and with all the obduracy of her spirit summoned about her, still her old conviction that she and her mother had been known by this man in their worst colours, from their first acquaintance; that every degradation she had suffered in her own eyes was as plain to him as to herself; that he read her life as though it were a vile book, and fluttered the leaves before her in slight looks and tones of voice which no one else could detect; weakened and undermined her. Proudly as she opposed herself to him, with her commanding face exacting his humility, her disdainful lip repulsing him, her bosom angry at his intrusion, and the dark lashes of her eyes sullenly veiling their light, that no ray of it might shine upon him - and submissively as he stood before her, with an entreating injured manner, but with complete submission to her will - she knew, in her own soul, that the cases were reversed, and that the triumph and superiority were his, and that he knew it full well.
'I have presumed,' said Mr Carker, 'to solicit an interview, and I have ventured to describe it as being one of business, because - '
'Perhaps you are charged by Mr Dombey with some message of reproof,' said Edit 'You possess Mr Dombey's confidence in such an unusual degree, Sir, that you would scarcely surprise me if that were your business.'
'I have no message to the lady who sheds a lustre upon his name,' said Mr Carker. 'But I entreat that lady, on my own behalf to be just to a very humble claimant for justice at her hands - a mere dependant of Mr Dombey's - which is a position of humility; and to reflect upon my perfect helplessness last night, and the impossibility of my avoiding the share that was forced upon me in a very painful occasion.'
'My dearest Edith,' hinted Cleopatra in a low voice, as she held her eye-glass aside, 'really very charming of Mr What's-his-name. And full of heart!'
'For I do,' said Mr Carker, appealing to Mrs Skewton with a look of grateful deference, - 'I do venture to call it a painful occasion, though merely because it was so to me, who had the misfortune to be present. So slight a difference, as between the principals - between those who love each other with disinterested devotion, and would make any sacrifice of self in such a cause - is nothing. As Mrs Skewton herself expressed, with so much truth and feeling last night, it is nothing.'
Edith could not look at him, but she said after a few moments,
'And your business, Sir - '
'Edith, my pet,' said Mrs Skewton, 'all this time Mr Carker is standing! My dear Mr Carker, take a seat, I beg.'
He offered no reply to the mother, but fixed his eyes on the proud daughter, as though he would only be bidden by her, and was resolved to he bidden by her. Edith, in spite of herself sat down, and slightly motioned with her hand to him to be seated too. No action could be colder, haughtier, more insolent in its air of supremacy and disrespect, but she had struggled against even that concession ineffectually, and it was wrested from her. That was enough! Mr Carker sat down.
'May I be allowed, Madam,' said Carker, turning his white teeth on Mrs Skewton like a light - 'a lady of your excellent sense and quick feeling will give me credit, for good reason, I am sure - to address what I have to say, to Mrs Dombey, and to leave her to impart it to you who are her best and dearest friend - next to Mr Dombey?'
Mrs Skewton would have retired, but Edith stopped her. Edith would have stopped him too, and indignantly ordered him to speak openly or not at all, but that he said, in a low Voice - 'Miss Florence - the young lady who has just left the room - '
Edith suffered him to proceed. She looked at him now. As he bent forward, to be nearer, with the utmost show of delicacy and respect, and with his teeth persuasively arrayed, in a self-depreciating smile, she felt as if she could have struck him dead.
'Miss Florence's position,' he began, 'has been an unfortunate one. I have a difficulty in alluding to it to you, whose attachment to her father is naturally watchful and jealous of every word that applies to him.' Always distinct and soft in speech, no language could describe the extent of his distinctness and softness, when he said these words, or came to any others of a similar import. 'But, as one who is devoted to Mr Dombey in his different way, and whose life is passed in admiration of Mr Dombey's character, may I say, without offence to your tenderness as a wife, that Miss Florence has unhappily been neglected - by her father. May I say by her father?'
Edith replied, 'I know it.'
'You know it!' said Mr Carker, with a great appearance of relief. 'It removes a mountain from my breast. May I hope you know how the neglect originated; in what an amiable phase of Mr Dombey's pride - character I mean?'
'You may pass that by, Sir,' she returned, 'and come the sooner to the end of what you have to say.'
'Indeed, I am sensible, Madam,' replied Carker, - 'trust me, I am deeply sensible, that Mr Dombey can require no justification in anything to you. But, kindly judge of my breast by your own, and you will forgive my interest in him, if in its excess, it goes at all astray.
What a stab to her proud heart, to sit there, face to face with him, and have him tendering her false oath at the altar again and again for her acceptance, and pressing it upon her like the dregs of a sickening cup she could not own her loathing of or turn away from'. How shame, remorse, and passion raged within her, when, upright and majestic in her beauty before him, she knew that in her spirit she was down at his feet!
'Miss Florence,' said Carker, 'left to the care - if one may call it care - of servants and mercenary people, in every way her inferiors, necessarily wanted some guide and compass in her younger days, and, naturally, for want of them, has been indiscreet, and has in some degree forgotten her station. There was some folly about one Walter, a common lad, who is fortunately dead now: and some very undesirable association, I regret to say, with certain coasting sailors, of anything but good repute, and a runaway old bankrupt.'
'I have heard the circumstances, Sir,' said Edith, flashing her disdainful glance upon him, 'and I know that you pervert them. You may not know it. I hope so.'
'Pardon me,' said Mr Carker, 'I believe that nobody knows them so well as I. Your generous and ardent nature, Madam - the same nature which is so nobly imperative in vindication of your beloved and honoured husband, and which has blessed him as even his merits deserve - I must respect, defer to, bow before. But, as regards the circumstances, which is indeed the business I presumed to solicit your attention to, I can have no doubt, since, in the execution of my trust as Mr Dombey's confidential - I presume to say - friend, I have fully ascertained them. In my execution of that trust; in my deep concern, which you can so well understand, for everything relating to him, intensified, if you will (for I fear I labour under your displeasure), by the lower motive of desire to prove my diligence, and make myself the more acceptable; I have long pursued these circumstances by myself and trustworthy instruments, and have innumerable and most minute proofs.'
She raised her eyes no higher than his mouth, but she saw the means of mischief vaunted in every tooth it contained.
'Pardon me, Madam,' he continued, 'if in my perplexity, I presume to take counsel with you, and to consult your pleasure. I think I have observed that you are greatly interested in Miss Florence?'
What was there in her he had not observed, and did not know? Humbled and yet maddened by the thought, in every new presentment of it, however faint, she pressed her teeth upon her quivering lip to force composure on it, and distantly inclined her head in reply.
'This interest, Madam - so touching an evidence of everything associated with Mr Dombey being dear to you - induces me to pause before I make him acquainted with these circumstances, which, as yet, he does not know. It so shakes me, if I may make the confession, in my allegiance, that on the intimation of the least desire to that effect from you, I would suppress them.'
Edith raised her head quickly, and starting back, bent her dark glance upon him. He met it with his blandest and most deferential smile, and went on.
'You say that as I describe them, they are perverted. I fear not - I fear not: but let us assume that they are. The uneasiness I have for some time felt on the subject, arises in this: that the mere circumstance of such association often repeated, on the part of Miss Florence, however innocently and confidingly, would be conclusive with Mr Dombey, already predisposed against her, and would lead him to take some step (I know he has occasionally contemplated it) of separation and alienation of her from his home. Madam, bear with me, and remember my intercourse with Mr Dombey, and my knowledge of him, and my reverence for him, almost from childhood, when I say that if he has a fault, it is a lofty stubbornness, rooted in that noble pride and sense of power which belong to him, and which we must all defer to; which is not assailable like the obstinacy of other characters; and which grows upon itself from day to day, and year to year.
She bent her glance upon him still; but, look as steadfast as she would, her haughty nostrils dilated, and her breath came somewhat deeper, and her lip would slightly curl, as he described that in his patron to which they must all bow down. He saw it; and though his expression did not change, she knew he saw it.
'Even so slight an incident as last night's,' he said, 'if I might refer to it once more, would serve to illustrate my meaning, better than a greater one. Dombey and Son know neither time, nor place, nor season, but bear them all down. But I rejoice in its occurrence, for it has opened the way for me to approach Mrs Dombey with this subject to-day, even if it has entailed upon me the penalty of her temporary displeasure. Madam, in the midst of my uneasiness and apprehension on this subject, I was summoned by Mr Dombey to Leamington. There I saw you. There I could not help knowing what relation you would shortly occupy towards him - to his enduring happiness and yours. There I resolved to await the time of your establishment at home here, and to do as I have now done. I have, at heart, no fear that I shall be wanting in my duty to Mr Dombey, if I bury what I know in your breast; for where there is but one heart and mind between two persons - as in such a marriage - one almost represents the other. I can acquit my conscience therefore, almost equally, by confidence, on such a theme, in you or him. For the reasons I have mentioned I would select you. May I aspire to the distinction of believing that my confidence is accepted, and that I am relieved from my responsibility?'
He long remembered the look she gave him - who could see it, and forget it? - and the struggle that ensued within her. At last she said:
'I accept it, Sir You will please to consider this matter at an end, and that it goes no farther.'
He bowed low, and rose. She rose too, and he took leave with all humility. But Withers, meeting him on the stairs, stood amazed at the beauty of his teeth, and at his brilliant smile; and as he rode away upon his white-legged horse, the people took him for a dentist, such was the dazzling show he made. The people took her, when she rode out in her carriage presently, for a great lady, as happy as she was rich and fine. But they had not seen her, just before, in her own room with no one by; and they had not heard her utterance of the three words, 'Oh Florence, Florence!'
Mrs Skewton, reposing on her sofa, and sipping her chocolate, had heard nothing but the low word business, for which she had a mortal aversion, insomuch that she had long banished it from her vocabulary, and had gone nigh, in a charming manner and with an immense amount of heart, to say nothing of soul, to ruin divers milliners and others in consequence. Therefore Mrs Skewton asked no questions, and showed no curiosity. Indeed, the peach-velvet bonnet gave her sufficient occupation out of doors; for being perched on the back of her head, and the day being rather windy, it was frantic to escape from Mrs Skewton's company, and would be coaxed into no sort of compromise. When the carriage was closed, and the wind shut out, the palsy played among the artificial roses again like an almshouse-full of superannuated zephyrs; and altogether Mrs Skewton had enough to do, and got on but indifferently.
She got on no better towards night; for when Mrs Dombey, in her dressing-room, had been dressed and waiting for her half an hour, and Mr Dombey, in the drawing-room, had paraded himself into a state of solemn fretfulness (they were all three going out to dinner), Flowers the Maid appeared with a pale face to Mrs Dombey, saying:
'If you please, Ma'am, I beg your pardon, but I can't do nothing with Missis!'
'What do you mean?' asked Edith.
'Well, Ma'am,' replied the frightened maid, 'I hardly know. She's making faces!'
Edith hurried with her to her mother's room. Cleopatra was arrayed in full dress, with the diamonds, short sleeves, rouge, curls, teeth, and other juvenility all complete; but Paralysis was not to be deceived, had known her for the object of its errand, and had struck her at her glass, where she lay like a horrible doll that had tumbled down.
They took her to pieces in very shame, and put the little of her that was real on a bed. Doctors were sent for, and soon came. Powerful remedies were resorted to; opinions given that she would rally from this shock, but would not survive another; and there she lay speechless, and staring at the ceiling, for days; sometimes making inarticulate sounds in answer to such questions as did she know who were present, and the like: sometimes giving no reply either by sign or gesture, or in her unwinking eyes.
At length she began to recover consciousness, and in some degree the power of motion, though not yet of speech. One day the use of her right hand returned; and showing it to her maid who was in attendance on her, and appearing very uneasy in her mind, she made signs for a pencil and some paper. This the maid immediately provided, thinking she was going to make a will, or write some last request; and Mrs Dombey being from home, the maid awaited the result with solemn feelings.
After much painful scrawling and erasing, and putting in of wrong characters, which seemed to tumble out of the pencil of their own accord, the old woman produced this document:
'Rose-coloured curtains.'
The maid being perfectly transfixed, and with tolerable reason, Cleopatra amended the manuscript by adding two words more, when it stood thus:
'Rose-coloured curtains for doctors.'
The maid now perceived remotely that she wished these articles to be provided for the better presentation of her complexion to the faculty; and as those in the house who knew her best, had no doubt of the correctness of this opinion, which she was soon able to establish for herself the rose-coloured curtains were added to her bed, and she mended with increased rapidity from that hour. She was soon able to sit up, in curls and a laced cap and nightgown, and to have a little artificial bloom dropped into the hollow caverns of her cheeks.
It was a tremendous sight to see this old woman in her finery leering and mincing at Death, and playing off her youthful tricks upon him as if he had been the Major; but an alteration in her mind that ensued on the paralytic stroke was fraught with as much matter for reflection, and was quite as ghastly.
Whether the weakening of her intellect made her more cunning and false than before, or whether it confused her between what she had assumed to be and what she really had been, or whether it had awakened any glimmering of remorse, which could neither struggle into light nor get back into total darkness, or whether, in the jumble of her faculties, a combination of these effects had been shaken up, which is perhaps the more likely supposition, the result was this: - That she became hugely exacting in respect of Edith's affection and gratitude and attention to her; highly laudatory of herself as a most inestimable parent; and very jealous of having any rival in Edith's regard. Further, in place of remembering that compact made between them for an avoidance of the subject, she constantly alluded to her daughter's marriage as a proof of her being an incomparable mother; and all this, with the weakness and peevishness of such a state, always serving for a sarcastic commentary on her levity and youthfulness.
'Where is Mrs Dombey? she would say to her maid.
'Gone out, Ma'am.'
'Gone out! Does she go out to shun her Mama, Flowers?'
'La bless you, no, Ma'am. Mrs Dombey has only gone out for a ride with Miss Florence.'
'Miss Florence. Who's Miss Florence? Don't tell me about Miss Florence. What's Miss Florence to her, compared to me?'
The apposite display of the diamonds, or the peach-velvet bonnet (she sat in the bonnet to receive visitors, weeks before she could stir out of doors), or the dressing of her up in some gaud or other, usually stopped the tears that began to flow hereabouts; and she would remain in a complacent state until Edith came to see her; when, at a glance of the proud face, she would relapse again.
'Well, I am sure, Edith!' she would cry, shaking her head.
'What is the matter, mother?'
'Matter! I really don't know what is the matter. The world is coming to such an artificial and ungrateful state, that I begin to think there's no Heart - or anything of that sort - left in it, positively. Withers is more a child to me than you are. He attends to me much more than my own daughter. I almost wish I didn't look so young - and all that kind of thing - and then perhaps I should be more considered.'
'What would you have, mother?'
'Oh, a great deal, Edith,' impatiently.
'Is there anything you want that you have not? It is your own fault if there be.'
'My own fault!' beginning to whimper. 'The parent I have been to you, Edith: making you a companion from your cradle! And when you neglect me, and have no more natural affection for me than if I was a stranger - not a twentieth part of the affection that you have for Florence - but I am only your mother, and should corrupt her in a day! - you reproach me with its being my own fault.'
'Mother, mother, I reproach you with nothing. Why will you always dwell on this?'
'Isn't it natural that I should dwell on this, when I am all affection and sensitiveness, and am wounded in the cruellest way, whenever you look at me?'
'I do not mean to wound you, mother. Have you no remembrance of what has been said between us? Let the Past rest.'
'Yes, rest! And let gratitude to me rest; and let affection for me rest; and let me rest in my out-of-the-way room, with no society and no attention, while you find new relations to make much of, who have no earthly claim upon you! Good gracious, Edith, do you know what an elegant establishment you are at the head of?'
'Yes. Hush!'
'And that gentlemanly creature, Dombey? Do you know that you are married to him, Edith, and that you have a settlement and a position, and a carriage, and I don't know what?'
'Indeed, I know it, mother; well.'
'As you would have had with that delightful good soul - what did they call him? - Granger - if he hadn't died. And who have you to thank for all this, Edith?'
'You, mother; you.'
'Then put your arms round my neck, and kiss me; and show me, Edith, that you know there never was a better Mama than I have been to you. And don't let me become a perfect fright with teasing and wearing myself at your ingratitude, or when I'm out again in society no soul will know me, not even that hateful animal, the Major.'
But, sometimes, when Edith went nearer to her, and bending down her stately head, Put her cold cheek to hers, the mother would draw back as If she were afraid of her, and would fall into a fit of trembling, and cry out that there was a wandering in her wits. And sometimes she would entreat her, with humility, to sit down on the chair beside her bed, and would look at her (as she sat there brooding) with a face that even the rose-coloured curtains could not make otherwise than scared and wild.
The rose-coloured curtains blushed, in course of time, on Cleopatra's bodily recovery, and on her dress - more juvenile than ever, to repair the ravages of illness - and on the rouge, and on the teeth, and on the curls, and on the diamonds, and the short sleeves, and the whole wardrobe of the doll that had tumbled down before the mirror. They blushed, too, now and then, upon an indistinctness in her speech which she turned off with a girlish giggle, and on an occasional failing In her memory, that had no rule in it, but came and went fantastically, as if in mockery of her fantastic self.
But they never blushed upon a change in the new manner of her thought and speech towards her daughter. And though that daughter often came within their influence, they never blushed upon her loveliness irradiated by a smile, or softened by the light of filial love, in its stem beauty.
第二天，弗洛伦斯、伊迪丝和斯丘顿夫人在一起坐着，马车在门口等待着把她们拉到外面去游逛。因为现在克利奥佩特拉又有了她的单层甲板大帆船了①；威瑟斯不再脸无血色；他穿着鸽胸式的短上衣和军裤，在就餐的时间笔挺地站在她的没有轮子的椅子的后面，不再用头去顶它了；在这些轻松愉快的日子里，威瑟斯的头发涂了香脂，闪闪发亮；他戴着小山羊皮的手套，身上散发出花露水的香气。
他们聚集在克利奥佩特拉的房间里。古老的尼罗河的蛇②（这么说并不是对她不尊敬）在她的沙发上安息，下午三点还在一点一点地喝着她早晨的巧克力饮料，侍女弗劳尔斯正在系紧她那少女般衣衫的袖口和绉边，并私下里给她举行了一个加冕典礼，在她头上戴上一顶桃红色的丝绒帽子；当麻痹症像微风一样跟帽子上的假玫瑰闹着玩儿的时候，这些花朵就非常可爱地摇晃着。
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①古埃及女王克利奥佩特拉经常乘单层甲板大帆船出游；这里是说斯丘顿夫人有了豪华的马车了。
②古老的尼罗河的蛇：指克利奥佩特拉。莎士比亚所著戏剧《安东尼与克利奥佩特拉》第一幕第五场：
克利奥佩特拉：“……他（指马克•安东尼）现在说话了，也许他在低声微语，‘我那古老的尼罗河的蛇呢？’因为他是这样称呼我的。……”
“今天早上我觉得有些神经过敏，弗劳尔斯，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“我的手颤抖得厉害。”
“您是昨天夜晚庆祝会上的重要人物，夫人，”弗劳尔斯回答道，“您看，今天您就受不了啦。”
伊迪丝原先把弗洛伦斯叫到窗口，正望着外面，背对着她尊敬的母亲的梳妆台，这时仿佛窗子闪过电光似的，她突然离开了窗子。
“我亲爱的孩子，”克利奥佩特拉没精打采地说道，“你不神经过敏吗？别告诉我，我亲爱的伊迪丝，你虽然这么镇静自若，令人羡慕，但像你身体不幸多病的母亲一样，也开始成为一个长期忍受痛苦的人了！威瑟斯，有人敲门。”
“名片，夫人，”威瑟斯把名片递给董贝夫人，说道。
“我要出去，”她对名片看也不看一眼，说道。
“我亲爱的，”斯丘顿夫人慢声慢气地说道，“多奇怪，连名字不看一下就这样回答出去！拿到这里来，威瑟斯。天哪，我亲爱的，你可知道，这是卡克先生！这位很明白事理的人！”
“我要出去，”伊迪丝重复说道。她的语气是完全命令式的，所以威瑟斯走到门口，就命令式地对等待着的仆人说道，“董贝夫人要出去，走吧！”说完就当着他的面把门关上了。
可是那位仆人走后不一会儿又回来了，而且又凑着威瑟斯的耳朵低声地说些话，威瑟斯不很愿意地又一次走到董贝夫人面前。
“对不起，夫人，卡克先生向您致以敬意，并请求您，夫人，如果您愿意的话，抽出一分钟来跟他谈点业务上的事情。”
“真的，我亲爱的，”斯丘顿夫人看到她女儿的脸色阴沉难看，就用极为温和的声调说道，“如果你允许我说一句话，那么我想建议——”
“领他进来，”伊迪丝说道。当威瑟斯出去执行命令的时候，她皱着眉头又对母亲说道，“当他根据你的建议进来的时候，让他到你的房间里去。”
“我可以——我能走吗？”弗洛伦斯急忙问道。
伊迪丝点头同意，可是弗洛伦斯向门口走去的时候，却遇见了这位进来的人。就跟第一次对她说话时那种既亲昵又克制的讨厌态度一样，他这时用他最曲意奉承的语气对她说话，——说他希望她健康，——他不需要采用问的方式，而是仔细看看她的脸孔，等待着她的答复——；又说她的变化多么大，他昨天晚上几乎不能荣幸地认出她来了，然后他用手按住门，使它开着，让她出去；他暗暗地意识到有一种力量促使她急忙从他身边避开；尽管他的态度恭恭敬敬，彬彬有礼，但却不能完全掩盖他的这一意识。
然后他鞠了个躬，吻了一下斯丘顿夫人客气地向他伸出的手，最后向伊迪丝鞠了个躬。伊迪丝冷淡地回答了他的敬礼，没有看他；她自己没有坐下，也没有请他坐下，而是等待着他说话。
虽然她有高傲与权力作为依仗，并可以借助于她那顽强不屈的精神，但她以往的一种确信却破坏和削弱了她的力量。这个确信就是：从他们第一次相识以来，这个人了解她和她母亲的最坏的本色；她所忍受的每一个屈辱，他都跟她本人一样清楚；他观察她的生活就像念一本内容卑劣的书一样，用任何人也不能觉察到的轻视的眼光和声调翻读着书页。虽然她高傲地站在他的对面，她的威严的脸孔逼迫着他顺从，她的轻蔑的嘴唇排斥着他，她的胸脯上下起伏，对他的闯入感到愤怒，她的黑黑的眼睫毛很不高兴地低垂下来，掩蔽了眼睛的亮光，没有一道光落在他的身上，虽然他恭恭敬敬地站在她的面前，露出一副恳求的、委屈的姿态，然而却完全服从她的意志——可是她在内心深处知道，实际的情况正好相反，胜利的优势是属于他的，他完全清楚地了解这一点。
“我冒味地请求跟您会晤，”卡克先生说道，“我还放肆地说，我是来跟您谈一点业务上的事情，这是因为——”
“也许董贝先生委托您转达他的什么责备吧，”伊迪丝说道，“您得到董贝先生的信任，已到了异乎寻常的程度，所以如果您认为这是您的业务，并不会使我惊奇。”
“我没有什么口讯需要转达给使他的姓增添光彩的夫人，”卡克先生说道，“可是我以我本人的名义请求这位夫人公正地对待她手下的一名卑贱的提出要求的人——董贝先生的一名普通的下属，一个地位低微的人——，请求她考虑一下：昨天晚上我处于完全无能为力的状况，我当时被迫置身于一个很痛苦的场合，我想要避开是完全不可能的。”
“我最亲爱的伊迪丝，”克利奥佩特拉把她的眼镜放在一旁，低声地暗示道，“这位叫什么名字的先生确实很讨人喜欢，他充满了善良的心意！”
“我胆敢，”卡克先生用感激与尊敬的眼光向斯丘顿夫人看了一眼，继续说道，“我胆敢称这是个痛苦的场合，仅仅是因为我当时不幸在场，所以对我来说是痛苦的。至于在两位主人之间，在怀着无私的忠诚、相互热爱、随时准备为此而牺牲自己的人们之间，发生一点这样微小的争执，那是根本算不了什么的。就像斯丘顿夫人本人昨天夜间充满感情、极为真实地表达过的一样，那根本算不了什么。”
伊迪丝不能看他，但她在过了一会儿之后说道：
“您的业务呢，先生——”
“伊迪丝，我的宝贝，”斯丘顿夫人说道，“卡克先生一直在站着呢！我亲爱的卡克先生，请坐吧。”
他没有回答母亲，眼睛却一动不动地注视着高傲的女儿，仿佛他只等着她来请他坐，并下定决心让她来请似的。伊迪丝不由本意地坐下，并向他微微地挥了挥手，让他也坐下来；她的神态中流露出了优越感与不尊敬，没有什么动作能比这更冷淡、更傲慢、更无礼的了，可是她甚至连这点让步在自己心中也是竭力反对的，只是没有成功罢了；这是从她那里硬逼出来的。但是这也已足够了！卡克先生坐了下来。
“夫人，”卡克先生把雪白的牙齿像一道光一样照射到斯丘顿夫人身上，说道，“您是一位通晓事理和感觉敏捷的夫人，我是否可以请求您赏光，让我对董贝夫人说一些我必须说的话，然后再让她把这些话转告给您（我相信，这样做是有充分理由的）；除了董贝先生之外，您就是她最好的、最亲爱的朋友了。”
斯丘顿夫人本来想要离开，但是伊迪丝却阻止了她。伊迪丝本来也想阻止他那样做，并愤怒地命令他，要说就公开说出来，要不就干脆别说，可是他却低声地说道，“弗洛伦斯小姐——刚刚离开房间的那位姑娘——”
于是伊迪丝就听任他说下去。现在她看着他。当他极为殷勤、极为尊敬地向前弯下身子，向她更接近一些，并在卑躬屈节的微笑中显示出他排得整整齐齐的全副牙齿的时候，她觉得她真想把他当场打死。
“弗洛伦斯小姐的处境一直来是不幸的。”他开始说道，“我要向您说明这一点是困难的，因为您对她的父亲怀着亲密的爱情，所以您对于涉及他的每一句话都是警戒和妒嫉的。”他的话经常是矫揉造作、谄媚取悦的，可是他在讲这些话以及其他类似的话的时候那种矫揉造作、谄媚取悦的程度，是没有语言能够形容的，“可是，作为一个从不同的方面对董贝先生忠心耿耿，并在他的一生中始终敬慕董贝先生的性格的人，我是不是可以不触犯您当妻子的温柔亲切的感情说，弗洛伦斯小姐不幸被——她的父亲冷落了？我可以说被她的父亲冷落了吗？”
伊迪丝回答道：“我知道这。”
“您知道这！”卡克先生显出极为轻松的样子，说道，“这从我的心头搬走了一座山。我是不是可以希望您知道，这冷落是由于董贝先生的可爱的骄傲所产生的——我的意思是说，是由于他的性格所产生的呢？”
“您不必停住，先生，”她回答道，“请尽快把您想说的话说出来。”
“自然，我了解，夫人，”卡克回答道，“请相信我，我深深地了解，董贝先生并不需要向您证明他自己是正确的，可是请用您的心来判断一下我的心，那么您就会原谅我对他的关心，即使这种过分的关心有时把我引入岐途。”
跟他面对面地坐在这里，听他一次又一次地搬出她结婚时在圣坛前所作的虚假的誓言，硬要她接受，就好像端上一杯令人作呕的饮料的残滓，逼迫她喝下去，而她又不能承认她厌恶它并拒绝它，这真像一把刀，对她高傲的心是刺得多么深多么痛啊！她姿容美丽，笔直地、威严地坐在他面前，心中却知道，实际在精神上，她是躺在他的脚下的，这时候，羞耻、悔恨、愤怒是怎样在她心中翻腾不已啊！
“弗洛伦斯小姐，”卡克说道，“过去被交给仆人和雇佣来的人们照料（如果可以把它称为照料的话），她们在各方面都比她差、因此，她在童年时代必然需要引导和指点；由于缺乏这些，她过去的行为自然难免不够慎重，曾经在一定程度上忘记了她的身份。有一位叫做沃尔特的，是个庸庸碌碌的小伙子，她却傻里傻气地爱上了他，幸好他现在已经死了。我遗憾地对您说，她还跟几位名声不好的沿岸航行的船员和一位破了产逃跑的老头子保持过令人讨厌的联系。”
“这一切情形我已听说了，先生，”伊迪丝向他轻蔑地看了一眼，说道，“我知道您歪曲了事实。您也许还不知道这一点，我希望是这样。”
“请原谅我，”卡克先生说道，“我相信没有什么人能比我对这些情形知道得更清楚了。夫人，对于您的宽大与热情的天性，我应当尊敬、服从与崇拜；在为您心爱与尊敬的丈夫辩护时，您的这种天性多么高贵地表露出坚强不屈的精神；您的这种天性也使他得到了幸福，虽然他的美德是应当得到这种幸福的。然而说到具体情况——这正是我冒昧地请求您加以注意的——，我却不能有任何怀疑，因为我在履行我作为董贝先生的极为信任的朋友（我可以冒昧地这样说）的职责时，我已经完全查清了事实。在履行我的职责时，我对这些具体情况长时间亲自调查并利用可靠的人进行调查，取得了许多确凿的证据；我这样做，是由于我深深地关心与他有关的一切，这一点您是能很好理解的；如果您想说（因为我担心您不喜欢我），我这样做是被一种更低劣的动机所驱使：我是想要证明我在勤勤恳恳地为他工作，使他更加器重我，那么也可以。”
她抬起眼睛，没有抬到比他的嘴巴更高的地方，但是她却在他嘴里每颗牙齿中看到了它所自夸的作恶的工具。
“夫人，”他继续说道，“在我感到十分为难的情况下，如果我大胆地前来跟您商量，看看您是否高兴的话，那么我请您原谅我这样做，我想，我已注意到，您对弗洛伦斯小姐极感兴趣吧？”
她有哪一点他没有注意到和不知道的呢？这个想法每次出现的时候，不论它是多么微弱，都使她感到屈辱，同时却又感到极为愤怒；她牙齿紧咬着颤抖的嘴唇，竭力保持镇静，同时冷淡地点了一下头，作为回答。
“夫人，您的这个兴趣令人感动地证明了一点：凡是跟董贝先生有关的一切，对您来说，都是宝贵的；您的这个兴趣使我迟疑不决，没有把那些具体情况告诉他，因此他至今还不知道它们。如果允许我坦白承认的话，那么我应当说，您的这个兴趣使我对他的忠诚发生了动摇；您哪怕只要稍稍暗示一下您的愿望，我就会把这些事实向他瞒住不说的。”
伊迪丝迅速地抬起头，吃惊地向后退缩，并把阴沉的眼光投射到他的身上。他用他最温顺、最恭敬的微笑回答了她的眼光，继续说下去：
“您说我在叙述这些具体情况时歪曲了真相。恐怕不是这样！可是让我们假定确实如此吧。这个问题有时曾使我感到不安，这是由于以下情况引起的：弗洛伦斯小姐经常不断地保持着那些联系，不论她是多么天真和轻信，可是单就这一件事情来说，它对于本来就早已嫌恶她的董贝先生来说就具有决定性的意义，就会促使他采取步骤（我知道他有时已在考虑这一点），让她离开这个家，跟她疏远。夫人，请记得我几乎从小孩子的时候起就跟董贝先生交往，我了解他，我尊敬他。请恕我直言，如果他有什么缺点的话，那就是高傲的固执，这根源于他对属于他的权力的高贵的自豪与意识，我们全都必须服从他的权力。他的固执跟其他人的固执不同，它是刚毅不屈的，它是一天又一天，一年又一年地成长起来的。”
她的眼光依旧没有离开他；可是当他叙述到他们全都必须服从他的权力时，她的眼光尽量地坚定不移，她的傲慢的鼻孔张开来了，她的呼吸变得更加深沉，她的嘴唇稍稍地歪着。他看到了这些情形；虽然他的表情没有改变，但她知道他已看到了。
“甚至像昨天夜间这样无足轻重的小事（如果我可以再一次提到它的话），”他说道，“也可以比更重大的事情更好地阐明我的意思。董贝父子公司不知道时间、地点和季节，它把它们全部压倒。但是发生了这件小事情使我感到高兴，因为它使我今天有可能跟董贝夫人谈到这个问题，哪怕它必须使我遭到她暂时的不满也罢。夫人，我就是在对这个问题感到极为不安与忧虑的时候被董贝先生召唤到莱明顿去的。我在那里见到了您。我在那里无法不了解到您不久就要跟他结成什么样的关系，这种关系将会给他和您带来持久的幸福。我在那里作出决定，等您在这里安下家以后再来做我现在已经做了的事情。如果我把我知道的事情向您吐露了，那么我在心里就不用担心我对董贝先生没有尽到我的责任了，因为在这样的婚姻中，两人之间只有一颗心，一个灵魂，他们当中的一位几乎就代表着另一位。因此，我把这个问题的真情向您或向他吐露，我几乎可以同样安心。由于我已提到过的理由，我愿意选择您。我是不是可以荣幸地相信：我所吐露的真情已被接受，我已尽到了我的责任了？”
他长久地记得她向他投来的眼光——谁看到这个眼光能忘记呢？——以及她随后在内心所进行的斗争。最后，她说道：
“我接受它，先生。这件事情您到这里就告一结束，不用再讲什么了。”
他深深地鞠了个躬，并站起身来。她也站起来，然后他毕恭毕敬地告辞了。但是威瑟斯在楼梯上遇见他，看见他漂亮的牙齿和喜气洋洋的微笑时，惊愕地站住了；当他骑着白腿的马离开时，路上的人们都以为他是一位牙科医生，因为他显露出的牙齿是多么晃眼睛啊！当她不久之后乘着马车出去游逛的时候，路上的人们都把她看成是一位不仅富有、美丽而且又是幸福的贵妇人。但是他们没有看到她刚才一个人在自己房间里时的情景，他们也没有听到她是怎样喊着：“啊，弗洛伦斯，弗洛伦斯！”这几个字的！
斯丘顿夫人躺在沙发上休息，并一点一点地喝着巧克力饮料，除了听到“业务”这个粗俗的词儿外，什么也没有听进去。她对这个词有一种不共戴天的嫌恶，早就把它从她的词汇中驱除了，并因此用一种可爱的方式，并以大量善良的心意（就别提善良的心灵了）让各种妇女服饰商和其他商人都陷于破产。因此，斯丘顿夫人没有提任何问题，也没有表示任何好奇心。说实在的，桃红色的丝绒帽子在相当大的程度上占去了她在户外的注意力，因为它被放在她的后脑壳上，而这天风很大。它发疯似地想从斯丘顿夫人头上逃走，不跟她在一起，不管怎么哄它，它也丝毫不肯妥协。当把马车门关上，风被挡在外面的时候，由于神经麻痹症引起的颤抖又开始像济贫院中年迈的西风老人那样，跟假玫瑰花闹着玩儿①；总之，斯丘顿夫人有不少事情要做，她对其他事情都漠不关心。
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①指斯丘顿夫人麻痹症发作时，她头上的假玫瑰花随着颤抖，就像西风吹过这些花朵一样；在济贫院中西风是很多的。
到了晚间她不见好转。因为董贝夫人在化妆室里穿好衣服，已等了她半个小时；董贝先生在客厅里踱着方步，变得神色阴沉严肃、烦躁不安（他们三人要出去吃晚饭）；这时，侍女弗劳尔斯脸色苍白地走到董贝夫人跟前，说道：
“对不起，夫人，请您原谅，可是我对老夫人一点办法也没有！”
“您这是什么意思？”伊迪丝问道。
“唔，夫人，”受惊的侍女回答道，“我不明白是怎么一回事。她的脸在一歪一歪地做着各种怪样。”
伊迪丝急忙跟她一道到她母亲的房间里去。克利奥佩特拉盛装打扮：钻石啦，短袖子啦，胭脂啦，卷发啦，牙齿啦，少女般的其他装饰啦，一一齐全。可是麻痹症是欺骗不了的；它认出她就是它所负使命的目标，已在镜子前面打中了她；她就活像一个摔倒在地板上的讨厌的玩偶一样，躺在那里。
她们没有什么不好意思地把她身上穿戴的物品一件一件地剥掉，把整个人撕得支离破碎，然后把真正是她本人的那一小部分抬到床上；派人去请医生，不久医生就来了，采用了极为有效的医药；诊断的意见是：她能从这一次打击中恢复过来，但经不起再一次打击。她好几天躺在那里，呆呆地望着天花板，说不出话来；有时当问她知不知道谁在那里这样一类问题时，她发出口齿不清的来回答；有时她既不能用手势或表情来回答，也不能眨巴一下眼睛来回答。
后来她终于开始恢复了知觉，在一定程度上也恢复了动作的能力，但是说话的能力仍然没有恢复。有一天，她的右手又能活动了，她显示给照料她的侍女看，看去心情十分焦急不安；她做了个手势，要铅笔和纸；侍女立刻把它们送上，心想她要写遗嘱或写下一些最后的要求；这时董贝夫人不在家，侍女就怀着沉重的心情等候结果。
老太婆费劲地涂涂改改，还写错了几个仿佛从铅笔里自动跑出的字母之后，递交了这样一张字条：
“玫瑰色的帐子。”
由于侍女惊奇得发呆——这不是没有理由的——，克利奥佩特拉就在原稿上加上几个字，这时在纸条上看到的是：
“为医生准备的玫瑰色帐子。”
这时侍女模糊地猜测到：她要帐子的目的是为了使她的气色在医生面前显得好一些；由于家里最了解她的人们对这一意见的正确性毫不怀疑，她自己不久也能证实这一点，所以在她的床上就挂起了玫瑰色的帐子。从这时起她以加快的速度恢复。不久她就能卷着头发，戴着带花边的便帽，穿着睡衣，坐起来了；在凹陷的靥窝里还人为地涂上一点红润的颜色。
看到这位浓妆艳抹的老太婆向死神使着媚眼，装腔作势，跟他开着种种年轻人的玩笑，仿佛他就是少校似的，这真是个可怕的情景；可是她在遭受麻痹症打击之后心情的变化也同样充满了许多可供思考的资料，也同样是可怕的。
究竟是智力的衰退使她变得比先前更狡猾和虚伪呢，还是她把她自以为是什么样的人和她实际上是什么样的人混淆起来了呢，还是她模模糊糊地感到有些后悔呢（这种后悔既不能使她挣扎到光明之中，也不能使她后退到彻底的黑暗之中），还是在她头脑的混乱中，所有这些作用全都被激发出来了呢——这个猜测也许最可能是真的——，总之，结果是这样：她更加非常苛刻地要求伊迪丝对她表示亲爱、感激和关怀；她把自己高度赞扬成为一个难以估量的好母亲；她对伊迪丝关怀的其他一切对象都变得十分妒嫉；不仅如此，她还忘记了她们母女之间达成的闭口不谈女儿婚事这个问题的协议，经常不断地提到它，用这来证明她是一位难以比拟的好母亲；这一切，再加上她的病弱和好发脾气，就常常成为她变化无常与年轻浮躁的讽刺性注释。
“董贝夫人在哪里？”她会这样问侍女。
“出去了，夫人。”
“出去了！她出去是不是为了躲开她的妈妈，弗劳尔斯？”
“上帝保佑您，夫人，不是这样。董贝夫人只是跟弗洛伦斯小姐乘车出去转转。”
“弗洛伦斯小姐。弗洛伦斯小姐是谁？别跟我谈弗洛伦斯小姐。跟我比起来，弗洛伦斯小姐对她算得了什么？”
每当她开始要流出眼泪的时候，把她的钻石，或者桃红色的丝绒帽子（在她能到屋外走动之前好几个星期中，她总是戴着这顶帽子接见客人的），适当地展示在她面前，或者用什么花哨的服饰把她打扮起来，通常能把她的眼泪止住；她可以一直保持着自满自得的心情，直到伊迪丝前来看她为止。
当她一看到那张高傲的脸孔时，她又会故态复萌。
“唔，真的，伊迪丝！”她会摇着头，喊道。
“怎么了，妈妈？”
“怎么了！我真不知道是怎么了。这世界已变到这样虚伪的忘恩负义的地步，我真开始觉得，世界上根本就再也没有什么良心或这一类的东西了。威瑟斯比你更像是我的孩子了。他比我亲生的女儿更殷勤地照料我。我真但愿我别显得这么年轻，也许那样我反倒可以得到更多的关心。”
“你想要什么，妈妈？”
“哦，许许多多东西，伊迪丝！”她不耐烦地回答道。
“你想要的东西还有什么你还没有的？如果还有的话，那得怪你自己了。”
“怪我自己了！”她开始啜泣。“伊迪丝！打从你躺在摇篮里的时候起，我就一直跟你形影不离，我是你这样的母亲啊！可是你却不理睬我，对我的感情还不如对一位陌生人那样，连你对弗洛伦斯的感情的二十分之一也不到——我不过是你的亲母亲罢了，但你却居然认为我有一天会使她道德败坏！——你竟还责备我说，这得怪我自己了。”
“妈妈呀，妈妈！我什么也没有责备你。为什么你老唠唠叨叨地说这个呢？”
“我是一个非常重感情和敏感的人，而每当你看到我的时候，我却总是受到了最残酷的伤害；我为什么唠唠叨叨地说这个，这不是很自然的吗？”
“我不是有意要伤害你，妈妈。难道你不记得我们两人之间说过的话了吗？让过去安息吧。”
“不错，安息吧！让对我的感激安息吧；让对我亲切的感情安息吧；让我躺在偏辟的房间里，没有人陪伴，没有人照顾，就这样安息吧，而这时候你却结交上新的亲属，虽然她们对你是没有任何世俗权利的，你却对她们尽心地照顾！哎呀，我的天，伊迪丝，你知不知道你现在是在一个多么优雅高尚的家庭里当主妇哪？”
“知道，小点声！”
“还有那位身份高贵的人物，董贝？你知不知道你跟他结了婚，伊迪丝，你有了财产、地位、马车，我不知道还有什么？”
“自然，我知道，妈妈，我知道得很清楚。”
“就像你跟那位可爱的好人儿——他们管他叫什
么？——格兰杰在一起的时候也会有这一切一样，如果他没有死的话。这一切你应该感谢谁呢，伊迪丝？”
“你，妈妈，你。”
“那么，你就用胳膊搂着我的脖子，亲亲我；向我表示一下，你明白世界上没有一个比我更好的妈妈了，伊迪丝。别让我因为你的忘恩负义而奚落自己，折磨自己，变成一个十足的怪物；要不然当我重新到社会上跟人们交际的时候，谁也不会认出我来了，甚至连少校那可恨的畜牲也会认不出我来了。”
可是有时当伊迪丝走近她，低垂下神色庄严的头，把冷冰冰的脸颊贴到她的脸颊上的时候，母亲会往后退缩，仿佛她害怕她，并发出一阵震颤，喊道，她觉得神志恍惚。有时候她会低声下气地求伊迪丝坐在床边的椅子上；当伊迪丝坐在那里出神地想着心事的时候，她则会看着她；这时她脸上那副干瘪、苍老的样子，甚至连玫瑰色的帐子也无法改变。
随着时间的流逝，玫瑰色的帐子发出红光，照射到克利奥佩特拉日益痊愈的身体，照射到她的衣服（为了补偿疾病的损害，她的衣服比过去任何时候都显得更加年轻了），照射到她的胭脂、牙齿、卷发、钻石、短袖和在镜子前面摔倒的玩偶的全部服装。玫瑰色帐子发出红光，也不时观察到她的口齿变得含混不清，她发出少女般格格的傻笑来掩饰这一点。玫瑰色帐子发出红光，还可不时观察到她的记忆力时而衰退，这种衰退毫无规则，而是希奇古怪地忽来忽去，仿佛在戏弄她这希奇古怪的本人一样。
可是玫瑰色的帐子发出的红光从来没有观察到她想到她女儿和跟她说话的新的方式中有什么变化。虽然这位女儿时常来到帐子的红光所能照射到的地方，可是红光却从来没有观察到她可爱的脸上露出过高兴的微笑，或者孝顺之爱的亮光使她严峻的美貌变得温柔起来。
Chapter 38
Miss Tox improves an Old Acquaintance

The forlorn Miss Tox, abandoned by her friend Louisa Chick, and bereft of Mr Dombey's countenance - for no delicate pair of wedding cards, united by a silver thread, graced the chimney-glass in Princess's Place, or the harpsichord, or any of those little posts of display which Lucretia reserved for holiday occupation - became depressed in her spirits, and suffered much from melancholy. For a time the Bird Waltz was unheard in Princess's Place, the plants were neglected, and dust collected on the miniature of Miss Tox's ancestor with the powdered head and pigtail.
Miss Tox, however, was not of an age or of a disposition long to abandon herself to unavailing regrets. Only two notes of the harpsichord were dumb from disuse when the Bird Waltz again warbled and trilled in the crooked drawing-room: only one slip of geranium fell a victim to imperfect nursing, before she was gardening at her green baskets again, regularly every morning; the powdered-headed ancestor had not been under a cloud for more than six weeks, when Miss Tox breathed on his benignant visage, and polished him up with a piece of wash-leather.
Still, Miss Tox was lonely, and at a loss. Her attachments, however ludicrously shown, were real and strong; and she was, as she expressed it, 'deeply hurt by the unmerited contumely she had met with from Louisa.' But there was no such thing as anger in Miss Tox's composition. If she had ambled on through life, in her soft spoken way, without any opinions, she had, at least, got so far without any harsh passions. The mere sight of Louisa Chick in the street one day, at a considerable distance, so overpowered her milky nature, that she was fain to seek immediate refuge in a pastrycook's, and there, in a musty little back room usually devoted to the consumption of soups, and pervaded by an ox-tail atmosphere, relieve her feelings by weeping plentifully.
Against Mr Dombey Miss Tox hardly felt that she had any reason of complaint. Her sense of that gentleman's magnificence was such, that once removed from him, she felt as if her distance always had been immeasurable, and as if he had greatly condescended in tolerating her at all. No wife could be too handsome or too stately for him, according to Miss Tox's sincere opinion. It was perfectly natural that in looking for one, he should look high. Miss Tox with tears laid down this proposition, and fully admitted it, twenty times a day. She never recalled the lofty manner in which Mr Dombey had made her subservient to his convenience and caprices, and had graciously permitted her to be one of the nurses of his little son. She only thought, in her own words, 'that she had passed a great many happy hours in that house, which she must ever remember with gratification, and that she could never cease to regard Mr Dombey as one of the most impressive and dignified of men.'
Cut off, however, from the implacable Louisa, and being shy of the Major (whom she viewed with some distrust now), Miss Tox found it very irksome to know nothing of what was going on in Mr Dombey's establishment. And as she really had got into the habit of considering Dombey and Son as the pivot on which the world in general turned, she resolved, rather than be ignorant of intelligence which so strongly interested her, to cultivate her old acquaintance, Mrs Richards, who she knew, since her last memorable appearance before Mr Dombey, was in the habit of sometimes holding communication with his servants. Perhaps Miss Tox, in seeking out the Toodle family, had the tender motive hidden in her breast of having somebody to whom she could talk about Mr Dombey, no matter how humble that somebody might be.
At all events, towards the Toodle habitation Miss Tox directed her steps one evening, what time Mr Toodle, cindery and swart, was refreshing himself with tea, in the bosom of his family. Mr Toodle had only three stages of existence. He was either taking refreshment in the bosom just mentioned, or he was tearing through the country at from twenty-five to fifty miles an hour, or he was sleeping after his fatigues. He was always in a whirlwind or a calm, and a peaceable, contented, easy-going man Mr Toodle was in either state, who seemed to have made over all his own inheritance of fuming and fretting to the engines with which he was connected, which panted, and gasped, and chafed, and wore themselves out, in a most unsparing manner, while Mr Toodle led a mild and equable life.
'Polly, my gal,' said Mr Toodle, with a young Toodle on each knee, and two more making tea for him, and plenty more scattered about - Mr Toodle was never out of children, but always kept a good supply on hand - 'you ain't seen our Biler lately, have you?'
'No,' replied Polly, 'but he's almost certain to look in tonight. It's his right evening, and he's very regular.'
'I suppose,' said Mr Toodle, relishing his meal infinitely, 'as our Biler is a doin' now about as well as a boy can do, eh, Polly?'
'Oh! he's a doing beautiful!' responded Polly.
'He ain't got to be at all secret-like - has he, Polly?' inquired Mr Toodle.
'No!' said Mrs Toodle, plumply.
'I'm glad he ain't got to be at all secret-like, Polly,' observed Mr Toodle in his slow and measured way, and shovelling in his bread and butter with a clasp knife, as if he were stoking himself, 'because that don't look well; do it, Polly?'
'Why, of course it don't, father. How can you ask!'
'You see, my boys and gals,' said Mr Toodle, looking round upon his family, 'wotever you're up to in a honest way, it's my opinion as you can't do better than be open. If you find yourselves in cuttings or in tunnels, don't you play no secret games. Keep your whistles going, and let's know where you are.
The rising Toodles set up a shrill murmur, expressive of their resolution to profit by the paternal advice.
'But what makes you say this along of Rob, father?' asked his wife, anxiously.
'Polly, old ooman,' said Mr Toodle, 'I don't know as I said it partickler along o' Rob, I'm sure. I starts light with Rob only; I comes to a branch; I takes on what I finds there; and a whole train of ideas gets coupled on to him, afore I knows where I am, or where they comes from. What a Junction a man's thoughts is,' said Mr Toodle, 'to-be-sure!'
This profound reflection Mr Toodle washed down with a pint mug of tea, and proceeded to solidify with a great weight of bread and butter; charging his young daughters meanwhile, to keep plenty of hot water in the pot, as he was uncommon dry, and should take the indefinite quantity of 'a sight of mugs,' before his thirst was appeased.
In satisfying himself, however, Mr Toodle was not regardless of the younger branches about him, who, although they had made their own evening repast, were on the look-out for irregular morsels, as possessing a relish. These he distributed now and then to the expectant circle, by holding out great wedges of bread and butter, to be bitten at by the family in lawful succession, and by serving out small doses of tea in like manner with a spoon; which snacks had such a relish in the mouths of these young Toodles, that, after partaking of the same, they performed private dances of ecstasy among themselves, and stood on one leg apiece, and hopped, and indulged in other saltatory tokens of gladness. These vents for their excitement found, they gradually closed about Mr Toodle again, and eyed him hard as he got through more bread and butter and tea; affecting, however, to have no further expectations of their own in reference to those viands, but to be conversing on foreign subjects, and whispering confidentially.
Mr Toodle, in the midst of this family group, and setting an awful example to his children in the way of appetite, was conveying the two young Toodles on his knees to Birmingham by special engine, and was contemplating the rest over a barrier of bread and butter, when Rob the Grinder, in his sou'wester hat and mourning slops, presented himself, and was received with a general rush of brothers and sisters.
'Well, mother!' said Rob, dutifully kissing her; 'how are you, mother?'
'There's my boy!' cried Polly, giving him a hug and a pat on the back. 'Secret! Bless you, father, not he!'
This was intended for Mr Toodle's private edification, but Rob the Grinder, whose withers were not unwrung, caught the words as they were spoken.
'What! father's been a saying something more again me, has he?' cried the injured innocent. 'Oh, what a hard thing it is that when a cove has once gone a little wrong, a cove's own father should be always a throwing it in his face behind his back! It's enough,' cried Rob, resorting to his coat-cuff in anguish of spirit, 'to make a cove go and do something, out of spite!'
'My poor boy!' cried Polly, 'father didn't mean anything.'
'If father didn't mean anything,' blubbered the injured Grinder, 'why did he go and say anything, mother? Nobody thinks half so bad of me as my own father does. What a unnatural thing! I wish somebody'd take and chop my head off. Father wouldn't mind doing it, I believe, and I'd much rather he did that than t'other.'
At these desperate words all the young Toodles shrieked; a pathetic effect, which the Grinder improved by ironically adjuring them not to cry for him, for they ought to hate him, they ought, if they was good boys and girls; and this so touched the youngest Toodle but one, who was easily moved, that it touched him not only in his spirit but in his wind too; making him so purple that Mr Toodle in consternation carried him out to the water-butt, and would have put him under the tap, but for his being recovered by the sight of that instrument.
Matters having reached this point, Mr Toodle explained, and the virtuous feelings of his son being thereby calmed, they shook hands, and harmony reigned again.
'Will you do as I do, Biler, my boy?' inquired his father, returning to his tea with new strength.
'No, thank'ee, father. Master and I had tea together.'
'And how is master, Rob?' said Polly.
'Well, I don't know, mother; not much to boast on. There ain't no bis'ness done, you see. He don't know anything about it - the Cap'en don't. There was a man come into the shop this very day, and says, "I want a so-and-so," he says - some hard name or another. "A which?" says the Cap'en. "A so-and-so," says the man. "Brother," says the Cap'en, "will you take a observation round the shop." "Well," says the man, "I've done" "Do you see wot you want?" says the Cap'en "No, I don't," says the man. "Do you know it wen you do see it?" says the Cap'en. "No, I don't," says the man. "Why, then I tell you wot, my lad," says the Cap'en, "you'd better go back and ask wot it's like, outside, for no more don't I!"'
'That ain't the way to make money, though, is it?' said Polly.
'Money, mother! He'll never make money. He has such ways as I never see. He ain't a bad master though, I'll say that for him. But that ain't much to me, for I don't think I shall stop with him long.'
'Not stop in your place, Rob!' cried his mother; while Mr Toodle opened his eyes.
'Not in that place, p'raps,' returned the Grinder, with a wink. 'I shouldn't wonder - friends at court you know - but never you mind, mother, just now; I'm all right, that's all.'
The indisputable proof afforded in these hints, and in the Grinder's mysterious manner, of his not being subject to that failing which Mr Toodle had, by implication, attributed to him, might have led to a renewal of his wrongs, and of the sensation in the family, but for the opportune arrival of another visitor, who, to Polly's great surprise, appeared at the door, smiling patronage and friendship on all there.
'How do you do, Mrs Richards?' said Miss Tox. 'I have come to see you. May I come in?'
The cheery face of Mrs Richards shone with a hospitable reply, and Miss Tox, accepting the proffered chair, and grab fully recognising Mr Toodle on her way to it, untied her bonnet strings, and said that in the first place she must beg the dear children, one and all, to come and kiss her.
The ill-starred youngest Toodle but one, who would appear, from the frequency of his domestic troubles, to have been born under an unlucky planet, was prevented from performing his part in this general salutation by having fixed the sou'wester hat (with which he had been previously trifling) deep on his head, hind side before, and being unable to get it off again; which accident presenting to his terrified imagination a dismal picture of his passing the rest of his days in darkness, and in hopeless seclusion from his friends and family, caused him to struggle with great violence, and to utter suffocating cries. Being released, his face was discovered to be very hot, and red, and damp; and Miss Tox took him on her lap, much exhausted.
'You have almost forgotten me, Sir, I daresay,' said Miss Tox to Mr Toodle.
'No, Ma'am, no,' said Toodle. 'But we've all on us got a little older since then.'
'And how do you find yourself, Sir?' inquired Miss Tox, blandly.
'Hearty, Ma'am, thank'ee,' replied Toodle. 'How do you find yourself, Ma'am? Do the rheumaticks keep off pretty well, Ma'am? We must all expect to grow into 'em, as we gets on.'
'Thank you,' said Miss Tox. 'I have not felt any inconvenience from that disorder yet.'
'You're wery fortunate, Ma'am,' returned Mr Toodle. 'Many people at your time of life, Ma'am, is martyrs to it. There was my mother - ' But catching his wife's eye here, Mr Toodle judiciously buried the rest in another mug of tea
'You never mean to say, Mrs Richards,' cried Miss Tox, looking at Rob, 'that that is your - '
'Eldest, Ma'am,' said Polly. 'Yes, indeed, it is. That's the little fellow, Ma'am, that was the innocent cause of so much.'
'This here, Ma'am,' said Toodle, 'is him with the short legs - and they was,' said Mr Toodle, with a touch of poetry in his tone, 'unusual short for leathers - as Mr Dombey made a Grinder on.'
The recollection almost overpowered Miss Tox. The subject of it had a peculiar interest for her directly. She asked him to shake hands, and congratulated his mother on his frank, ingenuous face. Rob, overhearing her, called up a look, to justify the eulogium, but it was hardly the right look.
'And now, Mrs Richards,' said Miss Tox, - 'and you too, Sir,' addressing Toodle - 'I'll tell you, plainly and truly, what I have come here for. You may be aware, Mrs Richards - and, possibly, you may be aware too, Sir - that a little distance has interposed itself between me and some of my friends, and that where I used to visit a good deal, I do not visit now.'
Polly, who, with a woman's tact, understood this at once, expressed as much in a little look. Mr Toodle, who had not the faintest idea of what Miss Tox was talking about, expressed that also, in a stare.
'Of course,' said Miss Tox, 'how our little coolness has arisen is of no moment, and does not require to be discussed. It is sufficient for me to say, that I have the greatest possible respect for, and interest in, Mr Dombey;' Miss Tox's voice faltered; 'and everything that relates to him.'
Mr Toodle, enlightened, shook his head, and said he had heerd it said, and, for his own part, he did think, as Mr Dombey was a difficult subject.
'Pray don't say so, Sir, if you please,' returned Miss Tox. 'Let me entreat you not to say so, Sir, either now, or at any future time. Such observations cannot but be very painful to me; and to a gentleman, whose mind is constituted as, I am quite sure, yours is, can afford no permanent satisfaction.'
Mr Toodle, who had not entertained the least doubt of offering a remark that would be received with acquiescence, was greatly confounded.
'All that I wish to say, Mrs Richards,' resumed Miss Tox, - 'and I address myself to you too, Sir, - is this. That any intelligence of the proceedings of the family, of the welfare of the family, of the health of the family, that reaches you, will be always most acceptable to me. That I shall be always very glad to chat with Mrs Richards about the family, and about old time And as Mrs Richards and I never had the least difference (though I could wish now that we had been better acquainted, but I have no one but myself to blame for that), I hope she will not object to our being very good friends now, and to my coming backwards and forwards here, when I like, without being a stranger. Now, I really hope, Mrs Richards,' said Miss Tox - earnestly, 'that you will take this, as I mean it, like a good-humoured creature, as you always were.'
Polly was gratified, and showed it. Mr Toodle didn't know whether he was gratified or not, and preserved a stolid calmness.
'You see, Mrs Richards,' said Miss Tox - 'and I hope you see too, Sir - there are many little ways in which I can be slightly useful to you, if you will make no stranger of me; and in which I shall be delighted to be so. For instance, I can teach your children something. I shall bring a few little books, if you'll allow me, and some work, and of an evening now and then, they'll learn - dear me, they'll learn a great deal, I trust, and be a credit to their teacher.'
Mr Toodle, who had a great respect for learning, jerked his head approvingly at his wife, and moistened his hands with dawning satisfaction.
'Then, not being a stranger, I shall be in nobody's way,' said Miss Tox, 'and everything will go on just as if I were not here. Mrs Richards will do her mending, or her ironing, or her nursing, whatever it is, without minding me: and you'll smoke your pipe, too, if you're so disposed, Sir, won't you?'
'Thank'ee, Mum,' said Mr Toodle. 'Yes; I'll take my bit of backer.'
'Very good of you to say so, Sir,' rejoined Miss Tox, 'and I really do assure you now, unfeignedly, that it will be a great comfort to me, and that whatever good I may be fortunate enough to do the children, you will more than pay back to me, if you'll enter into this little bargain comfortably, and easily, and good-naturedly, without another word about it.'
The bargain was ratified on the spot; and Miss Tox found herself so much at home already, that without delay she instituted a preliminary examination of the children all round - which Mr Toodle much admired - and booked their ages, names, and acquirements, on a piece of paper. This ceremony, and a little attendant gossip, prolonged the time until after their usual hour of going to bed, and detained Miss Tox at the Toodle fireside until it was too late for her to walk home alone. The gallant Grinder, however, being still there, politely offered to attend her to her own door; and as it was something to Miss Tox to be seen home by a youth whom Mr Dombey had first inducted into those manly garments which are rarely mentioned by name,' she very readily accepted the proposal.
After shaking hands with Mr Toodle and Polly, and kissing all the children, Miss Tox left the house, therefore, with unlimited popularity, and carrying away with her so light a heart that it might have given Mrs Chick offence if that good lady could have weighed it.
Rob the Grinder, in his modesty, would have walked behind, but Miss Tox desired him to keep beside her, for conversational purposes; and, as she afterwards expressed it to his mother, 'drew him out,' upon the road.
He drew out so bright, and clear, and shining, that Miss Tox was charmed with him. The more Miss Tox drew him out, the finer he came - like wire. There never was a better or more promising youth - a more affectionate, steady, prudent, sober, honest, meek, candid young man - than Rob drew out, that night.
'I am quite glad,' said Miss Tox, arrived at her own door, 'to know you. I hope you'll consider me your friend, and that you'll come and see me as often as you like. Do you keep a money-box?'
'Yes, Ma'am,' returned Rob; 'I'm saving up, against I've got enough to put in the Bank, Ma'am.
'Very laudable indeed,' said Miss Tox. 'I'm glad to hear it. Put this half-crown into it, if you please.'
'Oh thank you, Ma'am,' replied Rob, 'but really I couldn't think of depriving you.'
'I commend your independent spirit,' said Miss Tox, 'but it's no deprivation, I assure you. I shall be offended if you don't take it, as a mark of my good-will. Good-night, Robin.'
'Good-night, Ma'am,' said Rob, 'and thank you!'
Who ran sniggering off to get change, and tossed it away with a pieman. But they never taught honour at the Grinders' School, where the system that prevailed was particularly strong in the engendering of hypocrisy. Insomuch, that many of the friends and masters of past Grinders said, if this were what came of education for the common people, let us have none. Some more rational said, let us have a better one. But the governing powers of the Grinders' Company were always ready for them, by picking out a few boys who had turned out well in spite of the system, and roundly asserting that they could have only turned out well because of it. Which settled the business of those objectors out of hand, and established the glory of the Grinders' Institution.
可怜的托克斯小姐被她的朋友路易莎•奇克抛弃，又被剥夺了见到董贝先生容颜的幸福，变得意气消沉，郁郁不乐（因为她没有收到用一根银线连结在一起的一对精致的结婚请贴，不能用它来装饰公主广场壁炉上的镜子或大键琴，也不能用它来点缀那些卢克丽霞留着在假日陈列装饰品的小板框）。有一段时候，公主广场听不到鸟儿圆舞曲了，花卉没有人去照料了，托克斯小姐那位头发上撒粉和留着辫子的祖先的小画像上积满了灰尘。
可是，不论就年龄来说，还是就性情来说，托克斯小姐都不是会长久沉陷在无益的悔恨之中的人。当鸟儿圆舞曲在形状弯曲的客厅里重新发出颤音，弹响起来的时候，大键琴上只有两个键由于长久没有使用，发不出来了；在她每天早上重新定时地在绿色的篮子前面料理花卉之前，只有天竺葵的一个幼枝成了护理不善的牺牲品；那位头上撒粉的祖先在尘埃的覆盖下没有超过六个星期，托克斯小姐就对着他仁慈的脸孔哈气，并用一块麂皮把他擦得明明亮亮的了。
然而，托克斯小姐仍然感到孤单寂寞，不知如何是好。她爱慕董贝先生的感情，不管多么可笑地暴露出来，却是真实和强烈的；正像她自己所说的，她已“被路易莎的侮辱深深地伤害了，而这种侮辱是她不应当受到的”。不过托克斯小姐的性格是不知道发怒的。如果说她曾经柔语轻声、唯唯诺诺地走过了她的生活道路的话，那么至少她直到现在还没有发过脾气。有一天她在街道上，隔着相当远的距离，只是看到了路易莎一眼，她那柔弱的性格就支架不住，不得不立即拐到一家糕饼店里去躲避；店里有一间霉臭的小后房，通常是用来喝汤的，房间里充满了牛尾巴的气味；她在那里掉了不少眼泪来排遣她悲伤的感情。
对于董贝先生，托克斯小姐并不感到她有任何理由好抱怨的。这位上等人物的崇高的身份在她的心目中达到了这样的程度：当她一旦被迫离开了他，她就觉得仿佛她和他之间的距离一直是大得无法计量的，仿佛他过去是极为宽宏大量，才容忍她到他那里去的。托克斯小姐真心实意地相信，没有什么人当他的妻子会是太漂亮或是太华贵的。他既然有意物色一位妻子，那么十分自然，他的眼界就应当是高的。托克斯小姐流着眼泪得出了这个正确的结论，一天承认它二十次。她从来没有回想起，董贝先生曾经以一种傲慢的态度，利用她为他自己的利益和任性服务，并且宽大地允许她成为他小儿子的保姆当中的一位。用她自己的话来说，她只是想到“她在那个公馆中度过了许许多多幸福的时光，她应当永远感激地铭记在心；她永远也不会改变地认为，董贝先生是最令人难忘的最高贵的人物当中的一位。”
可是托克斯小姐与毫不留情的路易莎断绝了来往，又不好意思地躲避着少校（她现在对他有些不信任），因此对董贝先生家中的事情一无所知，心中感到很苦闷。因为她确实已习惯于把董贝父子公司看成是全世界都围绕着它旋转的枢轴，所以她决心跟她的一位老熟人理查兹大嫂恢复交情，来得到她所十分关心的消息。她知道，理查兹大嫂自从上一次难忘地来到董贝先生面前之后，跟他的仆人们一直保持着联系。托克斯小姐寻找图德尔这家人，心中也许还暗暗怀着一个微妙的动机，就是找个什么人她可以跟她谈谈董贝先生；不论这个人的地位多么低微她都不在乎。
不论情况如何，总之，有一天晚上，托克斯小姐迈出脚步，向着图德尔的住宅走去了；而这时候，图德尔先生则满身煤灰，皮肤黝黑，在全家团聚中正喝着茶，恢复精神。图德尔先生的生活只有三个阶段。他要末就是像刚才所说的，在享受着天伦之乐的时候恢复精神，要末就是以每小时二十五到五十英里的速度疾驰在国土上，要末就是在劳动疲乏之后睡觉。他经常不是处在急速的旋风中，就是处在风平浪静中。不管是在哪一种情况下，图德尔先生始终是一位和和气气、称心满意、怡然自得的人。他似乎已把他从父母那里继承下来的冒火和生气的脾气全部转让给跟他联系着的机车了；机车毫不客气地喘着气，喷着气，发着火，磨损着自己，而图德尔先生却过着平静的、安定的生活。
“波利，我亲爱的，”图德尔先生说道，他每个膝盖上有一个年幼的图德尔，有两个在给他沏茶，还有更多的小图德尔在他的周围玩耍，——图德尔先生从来也不缺少孩子，身边总是有一大群。——“你最近没有看到我们的拜勒吧，是不是？”
“是的，”波利回答道，“不过他今晚准会回来。今晚他放假，他从不会错过的。”
“我觉得，”图德尔先生津津有味地品尝着茶水的滋味，说道，“就一个孩子所能做到的来说，我们的拜勒现在表现得很好，是不是，波利？”
“啊！他现在好极了！”波利回答道。
“他现在一点也不神秘兮兮，不好捉摸了，是不是，波利？”
图德尔先生问道。
“一点也不！”图德尔太太直截了当地说道。
“我很高兴，他现在一点也不神秘兮兮，不好捉摸了，波利，”图德尔先生不慌不忙，仔细思考着说道，一边像给锅炉送煤似地用折刀把奶油面包送进嘴里，“因为那样不好。对不对，波利？”
“那还用说，当然不好啦，爸爸。亏你问得出来！”
“听着，我的儿子们和女儿们，”图德尔先生向四周的孩子们看了看，说道，“不管你们做一桩什么正直的事情，我认为，你们最好是光明正大地去做。如果你发现你自己进了峡谷或隧道，你可别玩弄秘密的游戏，你得鸣汽笛，让大家知道你在哪里。”
正在成长的图德尔们发出了尖锐的低低的喊声，表示决心遵照父亲的教导去做。
“可是你为什么谈到罗布的时候说到这些话呢，爸爸？”他的妻子忧虑地问道。
“波利，我的老伴，”图德尔先生说道，“说实在的，我不知道我谈到这时是不是谈到了罗布。我只是从罗布这个站出发；我开到一个让车道里了；我在那里找到什么就拉走什么；像整个列车般的一连串思想都向他拥集过来，而那时候我还不知道我在哪里，也不知道这些思想是从哪里来的呢。说实在的，”图德尔先生说道，“一个人的思想是个多么复杂的枢纽站啊！”
图德尔先生喝了容量约一品脱的一杯茶，把这个意义深刻的见解冲了下去，然后用很大的一份奶油面包使它凝固起来；同时他又吩咐他年轻的女儿们在水壶里倒进大量的热水，因为他嘴巴非常干，必须喝上“很多很多个小杯”才能解渴。
不过，图德尔先生在满足自己享受的时候，并没有忘记聚集在他周围的年轻的下一代；他们虽然已经吃过了晚饭，可是却依然眼巴巴地期待着额外的小块食物，就像那是山珍海味似的。他不时把这些小块食物分配给周围盼望着的小家伙们，采取的方式是把切成楔形的一大块奶油面包举出去，让全家的孩子们依照合法的顺序一个个咬去，并按照同样的方式让他们从一个匙子里喝一小口茶水；这些小图德尔们觉得这些平均分配的饮食味道好极了，他们吃完喝完之后，都欣喜若狂地跳起舞来，每个人都用一只脚跳着，并用其他各种跳跃的姿态来表达心中的喜悦。他们找到了这些表达兴奋的方式之后，又逐渐簇拥在图德尔先生的身旁，紧紧地注视着他继续吃着奶油面包和喝着茶水，但却装出不再期望自己能再尝到这些美味佳肴，而在交谈一些不相干的问题，因而十分亲密地低声说着。
图德尔先生坐在全家人的中间，在胃口方面给孩子们树立了一个令人敬畏的榜样，一边正在用特别的机车把膝盖上的两个小图德尔运往伯明翰①，并越过奶油面包围成的栅栏；细心观察着其他的小图德尔们，这时磨工罗布戴着称为“西南人”的防水帽，穿着丧服，走了进来，他的弟弟妹妹们立即争先恐后地向他冲去，迎接他。
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①伯明翰（Birmingham）：英国城市。
“妈妈！”罗布孝顺地吻着她，说道，“你好吗，妈妈？”
“我的好孩子！”波利把他紧紧地抱了一抱，并在他的背上轻轻地拍了一拍，喊道，“神秘兮兮，不好捉摸！上帝保佑你，爸爸，他一点也不是！”
这些话是说来开导图德尔先生的，可是磨工罗布对于责难并不是满不在乎的，所以立即就抓住了这些话。
“什么！爸爸又在说我的坏话了，是不是？”无辜地受了委屈的人喊道，“啊，一个小伙子有一段时候走错了一点路，他的亲爸爸却老拿这件事当面和背地里责骂他，这是多么刻薄无情啊！”罗布心情极度痛苦，用袖口擦着眼泪，说道，“这足够使一个小伙子为了泄愤，跑出去干点什么事来了。”
“我可怜的孩子！”波利喊道，“爸爸根本就没有责怪你的意思。”
“如果爸爸根本没有责怪我的意思，”受了委屈的磨工哇哇大哭地说道，“那么他为什么要说出这些话来呢，妈妈？没有什么人比我的亲爸爸把我看得这么坏，连一半也没有！这是多么不合常情的事啊！我真巴不得有什么人会抓住我，把我的头给砍掉。我相信，爸爸对这决不会反对的，我真愿意由他而不是由别人来砍！”
听到这些悲观绝望的话之后，所有的小图德尔们都尖声喊叫起来，磨工讽刺地恳求他们别为他痛哭，因为他们应当憎恨他——如果他们是好男孩和好女孩的话，那就应当这样——。这进一步增强了伤感的效果。第二个最小的图德尔是容易感动的，这些话深深地打动了他，不仅打动了他的心灵，而且还影响了他的呼吸，使得他的脸色十分发紫，因此图德尔先生惊慌地把他拉到屋外接雨的水桶那里；要不是他一见到那个容器就恢复过来的话，图德尔先生本想把他按到水龙头底下去的。
事情到了这个地步，图德尔先生就做了解释；当他儿子想做一位有道德的人的感情得到了抚慰，平静下来之后，他们相互握手，于是房间里又是一片和谐的气氛。
“你是不是跟我一样，也喝点茶，拜勒，我的孩子？”父亲又重新兴趣浓厚地转向他的茶水，问道。
“不，谢谢您，爸爸，主人和我已经一起喝过茶了。”
“主人•怎•么•样，罗布？”波利问道。
“唔，我不知道，妈妈；没有什么好夸耀的。你知道，那里没有生意。他，船长，对生意一窍不通。就在今天，有一个人到店里来，说，‘我想要个某某东西，’他说，——说了一个难懂的名称；‘什么？’船长问道，‘某某东西，’那人说；‘老弟，’船长说，‘是不是请您看一看店里的东西？’‘唔，’；那人说，‘我已经看过了’；‘你看到你所需要的东西了吗？’船长问道；‘没有，我没有看到，’那人说；‘您是不是一看到这个东西就认识它了？’船长问道；‘不，我不认识，’那人说；‘唔，那么我要对您说，我的朋友，’船长说道，‘您最好回去问一下它的形状是怎么样的，因为我也一样不认识！’”
“这样就赚不到钱了，是不是？”波利说道。
“钱，妈妈！他永选也赚不到钱。我从没见过像他那样为人处事的。不过我还得替他说一句，他不是个坏主人。不过这对我无关紧要，因为我想我不会长久跟他待在一起的。”
“不待在你那个地方吗，罗布！”他的母亲喊道；图德尔先生则睁大了眼睛。
“也许不在那个地方，”磨工使了个眼色，回答道，“我将不会奇怪——你知道，宫廷里的朋友——，可是现在你别管这；我一切都很好，这就是我要说的一切。”
磨工的这些暗示和神秘姿态，提供了一个无可争论的证据，说明他的确是有着图德尔先生含蓄地指出的他的那种缺点；如果这时不是凑巧来了另一个人的话，那么这些暗示和姿态本来又会使他遭受到新的委屈，家里又会重新轰动一番的。这位客人使波利大为惊奇地出现在门口，对所有在场的人露出赐加恩惠与友谊的微笑。
“您好吗，理查兹大嫂？”托克斯小姐问道，“我来看看您。
我可以进来吗？”
理查兹大嫂高兴的脸上闪现出一片好客的情意，这就是她的回答；托克斯小姐接受了为她摆好的椅子，并且在向椅子走过去的时候，举止文雅地向图德尔先生打着招呼，然后解开帽带，说，她首先得请这些可爱的小宝宝们一个个前来亲亲她。
第二个最小的图德尔走运不利，如果从他在家里遭到不幸的次数来看，也许他是在一颗不吉祥的星辰的照耀下出生的；这时他又不能参加到这次普遍的问候中去，因为他把那顶防水帽（他起先正在玩弄它）深深地紧套在头上，但前后戴错了，现在不能把它脱下来；这桩意外事故在他恐怖的想象中预兆着一幅灰暗的图景：他将在黑暗中度过今后的岁月，并和他的朋友与家庭永远隔离，因此他拼命挣扎，发出了几乎要窒息的号哭声。当他摆脱困境之后，大家看到他的脸孔很热，很红，很湿；托克斯小姐把他抱到膝盖上，这时他已筋疲力尽了。
“先生，我想您已几乎把我忘了吧，”托克斯小姐对图德尔先生说道。
“不，夫人，不，”图德尔说道。“不过从那时以来我们全都比过去老一些了。”
“您身体怎么样，先生？”托克斯小姐温和地问道。
“身强力壮，夫人，谢谢您，”图德尔回答道。“您身体怎么样？还没有得风湿病吧，夫人？我们岁数慢慢大起来，今后全都会得上它的。”
“谢谢您，”托克斯小姐说道，“我现在还没有得这个病，没有感到它的苦恼呢。”
“您很幸运，夫人，”图德尔先生回答道。“许多人到了您这样的年纪，夫人，都受它的折磨。就拿我母亲来说吧——”可是这时图德尔先生觉察到妻子的眼色，就聪明地把没说出来的话埋葬在另一杯茶水里了。
“理查兹大嫂，”托克斯小姐看着罗布，喊道，“这莫不是您的——”
“大儿子，夫人，”波利说道，“不错，他就是。就是这个小家伙，夫人，他就是好多事情无罪的根源。”
“就是他，夫人，就是那个腿短短的，”图德尔先生带着诗意的语调说道，“特别是当董贝先生让他当上一名磨工，他穿上皮短裤的时候，他的腿就越发显得异乎寻常的短。”
这回忆几乎使托克斯小姐支撑不了。回忆到的主人翁与她直接有着特殊的利害关系。她请他跟她握手，并为他的坦率的、老实的脸孔向他母亲表示祝贺；罗布听到这些话，竭力在脸上装出一副神色来证明这赞美是正确的，可是他装得不太像。
“现在，理查兹大嫂，”托克斯小姐说道，“还有您，先生，”她转过去对图德尔说，“我要坦白地、老实地告诉你们，我为什么要上这里来。您可能知道，理查兹大嫂——也许您也可能知道，先生，——我跟我朋友当中的某个人产生了一点隔阂，相互疏远了；过去我经常去拜访的地方，我现在不去了。”
波利以一个女人的机敏，立刻就明白了，她闪出一道眼光，表明了这一点。图德尔先生对托克斯小姐所谈的话丝毫摸不着头脑，他瞪了一下眼睛，也表明了这一点。
“当然，”托克斯小姐说道，“我们之间这小小的不和是怎么发生的，这个问题无关紧要，不需要讨论。我只要说这一点就够了，就是：我对董贝先生和跟他有关的一切，”托克斯小姐的颤抖了，“有着极大的尊敬和关心。”
图德尔先生受到了启发，摇摇头说，他听别人说过，他本人也认为，董贝先生是个棘手的问题。
“对不起，先生，请您别这么说，”托克斯小姐回答道，“我求您，先生，不论是现在，还是将来的任何时候，都不要这么说。我听到这种意见只能感到很痛苦，对于一位我相信像您同样具有智慧的先生来说，这种意见也不会使他永远高兴的。”
图德尔先生原先毫不怀疑他发表的意见是会得到赞同的，这时却极为困窘了。
“我所想要说的，理查兹大嫂，”托克斯小姐继续说道，“我也对您说，先生，——只是这样：那个家庭里发生的事情，那个家庭的兴隆情况，那个家庭的健康情况，你们听到任何有关这方面的消息，我将永远是极愿意听到的。我将永远很高兴跟理查兹大嫂聊聊这个家庭，聊聊过去的事情。因为理查兹大嫂跟我从来不曾有过任何争吵（虽然我现在真惋惜，从前我们没能更熟悉更亲近一些，不过这只能完全怪我自己），所以我希望她不会反对我高兴的时候常到这里来走走，就像是自己家里的人一样。理查兹大嫂，”托克斯小姐恳切地说道，“您一直是一位心地善良的人，说实在的，我真希望您能体会我的心意，接受我的要求。”
波利听得很高兴，在表情上也流露了出来。图德尔先生不知道他是不是也高兴，呆头呆脑地保持着沉静。
“您知道，理查兹大嫂，”托克斯小姐说道，“我希望您也知道，先生——，如果你们不把我当作外人的话，那么我在好多小事情上对你们是会有点用处的，我也将很高兴这样。比方说，我可以教你们的孩子学点什么。如果你们允许的话，那么我将带一些小书和针线活来，他们可以不时地在晚间学习——啊，我相信，他们将会学到好多东西，并给他们老师增添光彩的。”
图德尔先生对于学问怀有极大的尊敬，所以向妻子赞同地连连点头，并开始感到满意地向手上哈着气。
“那时候，我不是个外人了，所以我将不会妨碍任何人。”托克斯小姐说道，“一切都将照常进行，就仿佛我不在这里似的。理查兹大嫂将照常缝补她的东西，熨她的衣服，照看她的孩子，或不论做其他什么事，用不着管我。您呢，先生，如果您愿意，您就抽您的烟斗，您说好吗？”
“谢谢您，夫人，”图德尔先生说道，“不错，我将抽上几烟斗。”
“您真好，先生，”托克斯小姐回答道，“说真的，我毫不掩饰地对您说，这对我将是个极大的安慰；不论我能幸运地给孩子们做点什么好事，如果您能轻松地、愉快地、善意地达成我们这小小的协议，而不用说什么别的话，那就比给我什么报酬都强。”
这个协议当场就批准了；托克斯小姐觉得自己早已像在自己家里似的，所以她毫不迟延地对周围的孩子们来一番预先的考查（图德尔先生对这十分赞扬），把他们的年龄、名字和知识情况记在一张纸上。这个仪式和伴随的闲聊一直持续到超过了全家人通常上床睡觉的时间，并把托克斯小姐在图德尔先生的炉边一直耽搁到让她一个人回家已经太晚的时候。可是殷勤的磨工还没有离开，他彬彬有礼地提议陪送她到她家门口；由于由董贝先生第一次让他穿上那些叫不出名称的、有着雄赳赳气概的服装的一位年轻人护送回家，对托克斯小姐来说是有一些意义的，所以她立即高兴地接受了这个建议。
因此，托克斯小姐跟图德尔先生和波利握了手，并吻了所有的孩子们之后，离开这座房子的时候，她得到了全家大小无限的喜爱，心情十分轻松愉快；如果这时奇克夫人能把她的心称一称的话，那么它也许会使这位好夫人生气的哩！
磨工罗布由于谦逊，本想走在后面，可是托克斯小姐要他跟随在身旁，以便交谈，并像他以后对他母亲所说的，“一路上从他嘴巴里掏出些东西来。”
他十分机灵、痛快和出色地从自己嘴巴里往外吐露情况，托克斯小姐对他喜欢极了。托克斯小姐从他嘴巴里掏出得愈多，他就愈发显得可爱，就像拉细了的金属丝一样。那天夜里从罗布嘴巴里吐露出的事情来看，世界上没有一个小伙子比罗布更好，前途更有希望的了——没有一位年轻人比他更有情谊、更可靠、更谨慎、更冷静、更诚实、更温顺和更耿直的了。
“我很高兴认识您，”托克斯小姐到达家门口的时候，说道，“我希望您把我当作您的朋友，并希望您高兴的时候，时常来看我。您有没有扑满？”
“有，夫人，”罗布回答道，“我把钱存在里面，等多了再存到银行里，夫人。”
“真值得称赞，”托克斯小姐说道，“我很高兴听您这么说。
请把这个半克朗①存到里面去吧。”
--------
①半克朗：英国的硬币，半克朗等于2个半先令，或30个便士。
“啊，谢谢您，夫人，”罗布回答道，“不过说真的，我不能把这笔钱从您那里剥夺过来呀。”
“我很喜欢您这种独立的精神，”托克斯小姐说道，“可是我肯定地对您说，这不是剥夺。这是表示我的一点心意，如果您不拿去的话，那么我是会生气的。”
“再见，夫人。”罗布说道，“谢谢您！”
然后，他就嬉皮笑脸地跑去把它换成零钱，在掷钱的赌博中把它输给一个卖馅饼的人了。不过，在磨工学校中是从来不教人正直的，在这个学校中盛行的制度特别有助于伪善的产生，所以过去磨工的许多朋友和老师曾说过：“如果这就是对普通人进行教育的结果，那么就让我们干脆不要这种教育吧。”有些比较有理智的人则说，“让我们要一种更好的教育吧。”可是磨工公司的管辖人员对这些人的回答总是挑选出几个不受现行制度影响，表现良好的孩子，并断然声称，他们之所以表现良好，正是由于有这种制度的缘故。这样一来就使责难的人们哑口无言，并从而确立了磨工制度的荣誉。
Chapter 39
Further Adventures of Captain Edward Cuttle, Mariner
Time, sure of foot and strong of will, had so pressed onward, that the year enjoined by the old Instrument-maker, as the term during which his friend should refrain from opening the sealed packet accompanying the letter he had left for him, was now nearly expired, and Captain Cuttle began to look at it, of an evening, with feelings of mystery and uneasiness
The Captain, in his honour, would as soon have thought of opening the parcel one hour before the expiration of the term, as he would have thought of opening himself, to study his own anatomy. He merely brought it out, at a certain stage of his first evening pipe, laid it on the table, and sat gazing at the outside of it, through the smoke, in silent gravity, for two or three hours at a spell. Sometimes, when he had contemplated it thus for a pretty long while, the Captain would hitch his chair, by degrees, farther and farther off, as if to get beyond the range of its fascination; but if this were his design, he never succeeded: for even when he was brought up by the parlour wall, the packet still attracted him; or if his eyes, in thoughtful wandering, roved to the ceiling or the fire, its image immediately followed, and posted itself conspicuously among the coals, or took up an advantageous position on the whitewash.
In respect of Heart's Delight, the Captain's parental and admiration knew no change. But since his last interview with Mr Carker, Captain Cuttle had come to entertain doubts whether his former intervention in behalf of that young lady and his dear boy Wal'r, had proved altogether so favourable as he could have wished, and as he at the time believed. The Captain was troubled with a serious misgiving that he had done more harm than good, in short; and in his remorse and modesty he made the best atonement he could think of, by putting himself out of the way of doing any harm to anyone, and, as it were, throwing himself overboard for a dangerous person.
Self-buried, therefore, among the instruments, the Captain never went near Mr Dombey's house, or reported himself in any way to Florence or Miss Nipper. He even severed himself from Mr Perch, on the occasion of his next visit, by dryly informing that gentleman, that he thanked him for his company, but had cut himself adrift from all such acquaintance, as he didn't know what magazine he mightn't blow up, without meaning of it. In this self-imposed retirement, the Captain passed whole days and weeks without interchanging a word with anyone but Rob the Grinder, whom he esteemed as a pattern of disinterested attachment and fidelity. In this retirement, the Captain, gazing at the packet of an evening, would sit smoking, and thinking of Florence and poor Walter, until they both seemed to his homely fancy to be dead, and to have passed away into eternal youth, the beautiful and innocent children of his first remembrance.
The Captain did not, however, in his musings, neglect his own improvement, or the mental culture of Rob the Grinder. That young man was generally required to read out of some book to the Captain, for one hour, every evening; and as the Captain implicitly believed that all books were true, he accumulated, by this means, many remarkable facts. On Sunday nights, the Captain always read for himself, before going to bed, a certain Divine Sermon once delivered on a Mount; and although he was accustomed to quote the text, without book, after his own manner, he appeared to read it with as reverent an understanding of its heavenly spirit, as if he had got it all by heart in Greek, and had been able to write any number of fierce theological disquisitions on its every phrase.
Rob the Grinder, whose reverence for the inspired writings, under the admirable system of the Grinders' School, had been developed by a perpetual bruising of his intellectual shins against all the proper names of all the tribes of Judah, and by the monotonous repetition of hard verses, especially by way of punishment, and by the parading of him at six years old in leather breeches, three times a Sunday, very high up, in a very hot church, with a great organ buzzing against his drowsy head, like an exceedingly busy bee - Rob the Grinder made a mighty show of being edified when the Captain ceased to read, and generally yawned and nodded while the reading was in progress. The latter fact being never so much as suspected by the good Captain.
Captain Cuttle, also, as a man of business; took to keeping books. In these he entered observations on the weather, and on the currents of the waggons and other vehicles: which he observed, in that quarter, to set westward in the morning and during the greater part of the day, and eastward towards the evening. Two or three stragglers appearing in one week, who 'spoke him' - so the Captain entered it- on the subject of spectacles, and who, without positively purchasing, said they would look in again, the Captain decided that the business was improving, and made an entry in the day-book to that effect: the wind then blowing (which he first recorded) pretty fresh, west and by north; having changed in the night.
One of the Captain's chief difficulties was Mr Toots, who called frequently, and who without saying much seemed to have an idea that the little back parlour was an eligible room to chuckle in, as he would sit and avail himself of its accommodations in that regard by the half-hour together, without at all advancing in intimacy with the Captain. The Captain, rendered cautious by his late experience, was unable quite to satisfy his mind whether Mr Toots was the mild subject he appeared to be, or was a profoundly artful and dissimulating hypocrite. His frequent reference to Miss Dombey was suspicious; but the Captain had a secret kindness for Mr Toots's apparent reliance on him, and forbore to decide against him for the present; merely eyeing him, with a sagacity not to be described, whenever he approached the subject that was nearest to his heart.
'Captain Gills,' blurted out Mr Toots, one day all at once, as his manner was, 'do you think you could think favourably of that proposition of mine, and give me the pleasure of your acquaintance?'
'Why, I tell you what it is, my lad,' replied the Captain, who had at length concluded on a course of action; 'I've been turning that there, over.'
'Captain Gills, it's very kind of you,' retorted Mr Toots. 'I'm much obliged to you. Upon my word and honour, Captain Gills, it would be a charity to give me the pleasure of your acquaintance. It really would.'
'You see, brother,' argued the Captain slowly, 'I don't know you.
'But you never can know me, Captain Gills,' replied Mr Toots, steadfast to his point, 'if you don't give me the pleasure of your acquaintance.
The Captain seemed struck by the originality and power of this remark, and looked at Mr Toots as if he thought there was a great deal more in him than he had expected.
'Well said, my lad,' observed the Captain, nodding his head thoughtfully; 'and true. Now look'ee here: You've made some observations to me, which gives me to understand as you admire a certain sweet creetur. Hey?'
'Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, gesticulating violently with the hand in which he held his hat, 'Admiration is not the word. Upon my honour, you have no conception what my feelings are. If I could be dyed black, and made Miss Dombey's slave, I should consider it a compliment. If, at the sacrifice of all my property, I could get transmigrated into Miss Dombey's dog - I - I really think I should never leave off wagging my tail. I should be so perfectly happy, Captain Gills!'
Mr Toots said it with watery eyes, and pressed his hat against his bosom with deep emotion.
'My lad,' returned the Captain, moved to compassion, 'if you're in arnest -
'Captain Gills,' cried Mr Toots, 'I'm in such a state of mind, and am so dreadfully in earnest, that if I could swear to it upon a hot piece of iron, or a live coal, or melted lead, or burning sealing-wax, Or anything of that sort, I should be glad to hurt myself, as a relief to my feelings.' And Mr Toots looked hurriedly about the room, as if for some sufficiently painful means of accomplishing his dread purpose.
The Captain pushed his glazed hat back upon his head, stroked his face down with his heavy hand - making his nose more mottled in the process - and planting himself before Mr Toots, and hooking him by the lapel of his coat, addressed him in these words, while Mr Toots looked up into his face, with much attention and some wonder.
'If you're in arnest, you see, my lad,' said the Captain, 'you're a object of clemency, and clemency is the brightest jewel in the crown of a Briton's head, for which you'll overhaul the constitution as laid down in Rule Britannia, and, when found, that is the charter as them garden angels was a singing of, so many times over. Stand by! This here proposal o' you'rn takes me a little aback. And why? Because I holds my own only, you understand, in these here waters, and haven't got no consort, and may be don't wish for none. Steady! You hailed me first, along of a certain young lady, as you was chartered by. Now if you and me is to keep one another's company at all, that there young creetur's name must never be named nor referred to. I don't know what harm mayn't have been done by naming of it too free, afore now, and thereby I brings up short. D'ye make me out pretty clear, brother?'
'Well, you'll excuse me, Captain Gills,' replied Mr Toots, 'if I don't quite follow you sometimes. But upon my word I - it's a hard thing, Captain Gills, not to be able to mention Miss Dombey. I really have got such a dreadful load here!' - Mr Toots pathetically touched his shirt-front with both hands - 'that I feel night and day, exactly as if somebody was sitting upon me.
'Them,' said the Captain, 'is the terms I offer. If they're hard upon you, brother, as mayhap they are, give 'em a wide berth, sheer off, and part company cheerily!'
'Captain Gills,' returned Mr Toots, 'I hardly know how it is, but after what you told me when I came here, for the first time, I - I feel that I'd rather think about Miss Dombey in your society than talk about her in almost anybody else's. Therefore, Captain Gills, if you'll give me the pleasure of your acquaintance, I shall be very happy to accept it on your own conditions. I wish to be honourable, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, holding back his extended hand for a moment, 'and therefore I am obliged to say that I can not help thinking about Miss Dombey. It's impossible for me to make a promise not to think about her.'
'My lad,' said the Captain, whose opinion of Mr Toots was much improved by this candid avowal, 'a man's thoughts is like the winds, and nobody can't answer for 'em for certain, any length of time together. Is it a treaty as to words?'
'As to words, Captain Gills,' returned Mr Toots, 'I think I can bind myself.'
Mr Toots gave Captain Cuttle his hand upon it, then and there; and the Captain with a pleasant and gracious show of condescension, bestowed his acquaintance upon him formally. Mr Toots seemed much relieved and gladdened by the acquisition, and chuckled rapturously during the remainder of his visit. The Captain, for his part, was not ill pleased to occupy that position of patronage, and was exceedingly well satisfied by his own prudence and foresight.
But rich as Captain Cuttle was in the latter quality, he received a surprise that same evening from a no less ingenuous and simple youth, than Rob the Grinder. That artless lad, drinking tea at the same table, and bending meekly over his cup and saucer, having taken sidelong observations of his master for some time, who was reading the newspaper with great difficulty, but much dignity, through his glasses, broke silence by saying -
'Oh! I beg your pardon, Captain, but you mayn't be in want of any pigeons, may you, Sir?'
'No, my lad,' replied the Captain.
'Because I was wishing to dispose of mine, Captain,' said Rob.
'Ay, ay?' cried the Captain, lifting up his bushy eyebrows a little.
'Yes; I'm going, Captain, if you please,' said Rob.
'Going? Where are you going?' asked the Captain, looking round at him over the glasses.
'What? didn't you know that I was going to leave you, Captain?' asked Rob, with a sneaking smile.
The Captain put down the paper, took off his spectacles, and brought his eyes to bear on the deserter.
'Oh yes, Captain, I am going to give you warning. I thought you'd have known that beforehand, perhaps,' said Rob, rubbing his hands, and getting up. 'If you could be so good as provide yourself soon, Captain, it would be a great convenience to me. You couldn't provide yourself by to-morrow morning, I am afraid, Captain: could you, do you think?'
'And you're a going to desert your colours, are you, my lad?' said the Captain, after a long examination of his face.
'Oh, it's very hard upon a cove, Captain,' cried the tender Rob, injured and indignant in a moment, 'that he can't give lawful warning, without being frowned at in that way, and called a deserter. You haven't any right to call a poor cove names, Captain. It ain't because I'm a servant and you're a master, that you're to go and libel me. What wrong have I done? Come, Captain, let me know what my crime is, will you?'
The stricken Grinder wept, and put his coat-cuff in his eye.
'Come, Captain,' cried the injured youth, 'give my crime a name! What have I been and done? Have I stolen any of the property? have I set the house a-fire? If I have, why don't you give me in charge, and try it? But to take away the character of a lad that's been a good servant to you, because he can't afford to stand in his own light for your good, what a injury it is, and what a bad return for faithful service! This is the way young coves is spiled and drove wrong. I wonder at you, Captain, I do.'
All of which the Grinder howled forth in a lachrymose whine, and backing carefully towards the door.
'And so you've got another berth, have you, my lad?' said the Captain, eyeing him intently.
'Yes, Captain, since you put it in that shape, I have got another berth,' cried Rob, backing more and more; 'a better berth than I've got here, and one where I don't so much as want your good word, Captain, which is fort'nate for me, after all the dirt you've throw'd at me, because I'm poor, and can't afford to stand in my own light for your good. Yes, I have got another berth; and if it wasn't for leaving you unprovided, Captain, I'd go to it now, sooner than I'd take them names from you, because I'm poor, and can't afford to stand in my own light for your good. Why do you reproach me for being poor, and not standing in my own light for your good, Captain? How can you so demean yourself?'
'Look ye here, my boy,' replied the peaceful Captain. 'Don't you pay out no more of them words.'
'Well, then, don't you pay in no more of your words, Captain,' retorted the roused innocent, getting louder in his whine, and backing into the shop. 'I'd sooner you took my blood than my character.'
'Because,' pursued the Captain calmly, 'you have heerd, may be, of such a thing as a rope's end.'
'Oh, have I though, Captain?' cried the taunting Grinder. 'No I haven't. I never heerd of any such a article!'
'Well,' said the Captain, 'it's my belief as you'll know more about it pretty soon, if you don't keep a bright look-out. I can read your signals, my lad. You may go.'
'Oh! I may go at once, may I, Captain?' cried Rob, exulting in his success. 'But mind! I never asked to go at once, Captain. You are not to take away my character again, because you send me off of your own accord. And you're not to stop any of my wages, Captain!'
His employer settled the last point by producing the tin canister and telling the Grinder's money out in full upon the table. Rob, snivelling and sobbing, and grievously wounded in his feelings, took up the pieces one by one, with a sob and a snivel for each, and tied them up separately in knots in his pockethandkerchief; then he ascended to the roof of the house and filled his hat and pockets with pigeons; then, came down to his bed under the counter and made up his bundle, snivelling and sobbing louder, as if he were cut to the heart by old associations; then he whined, 'Good-night, Captain. I leave you without malice!' and then, going out upon the door-step, pulled the little Midshipman's nose as a parting indignity, and went away down the street grinning triumphantly.
The Captain, left to himself, resumed his perusal of the news as if nothing unusual or unexpected had taken place, and went reading on with the greatest assiduity. But never a word did Captain Cuttle understand, though he read a vast number, for Rob the Grinder was scampering up one column and down another all through the newspaper.
It is doubtful whether the worthy Captain had ever felt himself quite abandoned until now; but now, old Sol Gills, Walter, and Heart's Delight were lost to him indeed, and now Mr Carker deceived and jeered him cruelly. They were all represented in the false Rob, to whom he had held forth many a time on the recollections that were warm within him; he had believed in the false Rob, and had been glad to believe in him; he had made a companion of him as the last of the old ship's company; he had taken the command of the little Midshipman with him at his right hand; he had meant to do his duty by him, and had felt almost as kindly towards the boy as if they had been shipwrecked and cast upon a desert place together. And now, that the false Rob had brought distrust, treachery, and meanness into the very parlour, which was a kind of sacred place, Captain Cuttle felt as if the parlour might have gone down next, and not surprised him much by its sinking, or given him any very great concern.
Therefore Captain Cuttle read the newspaper with profound attention and no comprehension, and therefore Captain Cuttle said nothing whatever about Rob to himself, or admitted to himself that he was thinking about him, or would recognise in the most distant manner that Rob had anything to do with his feeling as lonely as Robinson Crusoe.
In the same composed, business-like way, the Captain stepped over to Leadenhall Market in the dusk, and effected an arrangement with a private watchman on duty there, to come and put up and take down the shutters of the wooden Midshipman every night and morning. He then called in at the eating-house to diminish by one half the daily rations theretofore supplied to the Midshipman, and at the public-house to stop the traitor's beer. 'My young man,' said the Captain, in explanation to the young lady at the bar, 'my young man having bettered himself, Miss.' Lastly, the Captain resolved to take possession of the bed under the counter, and to turn in there o' nights instead of upstairs, as sole guardian of the property.
From this bed Captain Cuttle daily rose thenceforth, and clapped on his glazed hat at six o'clock in the morning, with the solitary air of Crusoe finishing his toilet with his goat-skin cap; and although his fears of a visitation from the savage tribe, MacStinger, were somewhat cooled, as similar apprehensions on the part of that lone mariner used to be by the lapse of a long interval without any symptoms of the cannibals, he still observed a regular routine of defensive operations, and never encountered a bonnet without previous survey from his castle of retreat. In the meantime (during which he received no call from Mr Toots, who wrote to say he was out of town) his own voice began to have a strange sound in his ears; and he acquired such habits of profound meditation from much polishing and stowing away of the stock, and from much sitting behind the counter reading, or looking out of window, that the red rim made on his forehead by the hard glazed hat, sometimes ached again with excess of reflection.
The year being now expired, Captain Cuttle deemed it expedient to open the packet; but as he had always designed doing this in the presence of Rob the Grinder, who had brought it to him, and as he had an idea that it would be regular and ship-shape to open it in the presence of somebody, he was sadly put to it for want of a witness. In this difficulty, he hailed one day with unusual delight the announcement in the Shipping Intelligence of the arrival of the Cautious Clara, Captain John Bunsby, from a coasting voyage; and to that philosopher immediately dispatched a letter by post, enjoining inviolable secrecy as to his place of residence, and requesting to be favoured with an early visit, in the evening season.
Bunsby, who was one of those sages who act upon conviction, took some days to get the conviction thoroughly into his mind, that he had received a letter to this effect. But when he had grappled with the fact, and mastered it, he promptly sent his boy with the message, 'He's a coming to-night.' Who being instructed to deliver those words and disappear, fulfilled his mission like a tarry spirit, charged with a mysterious warning.
The Captain, well pleased to receive it, made preparation of pipes and rum and water, and awaited his visitor in the back parlour. At the hour of eight, a deep lowing, as of a nautical Bull, outside the shop-door, succeeded by the knocking of a stick on the panel, announced to the listening ear of Captain Cuttle, that Bunsby was alongside; whom he instantly admitted, shaggy and loose, and with his stolid mahogany visage, as usual, appearing to have no consciousness of anything before it, but to be attentively observing something that was taking place in quite another part of the world.
'Bunsby,' said the Captain, grasping him by the hand, 'what cheer, my lad, what cheer?'
'Shipmet,' replied the voice within Bunsby, unaccompanied by any sign on the part of the Commander himself, 'hearty, hearty.'
'Bunsby!' said the Captain, rendering irrepressible homage to his genius, 'here you are! a man as can give an opinion as is brighter than di'monds - and give me the lad with the tarry trousers as shines to me like di'monds bright, for which you'll overhaul the Stanfell's Budget, and when found make a note.' Here you are, a man as gave an opinion in this here very place, that has come true, every letter on it,' which the Captain sincerely believed.
'Ay, ay?' growled Bunsby.
'Every letter,' said the Captain.
'For why?' growled Bunsby, looking at his friend for the first time. 'Which way? If so, why not? Therefore.' With these oracular words - they seemed almost to make the Captain giddy; they launched him upon such a sea of speculation and conjecture - the sage submitted to be helped off with his pilot-coat, and accompanied his friend into the back parlour, where his hand presently alighted on the rum-bottle, from which he brewed a stiff glass of grog; and presently afterwards on a pipe, which he filled, lighted, and began to smoke.
Captain Cuttle, imitating his visitor in the matter of these particulars, though the rapt and imperturbable manner of the great Commander was far above his powers, sat in the opposite corner of the fireside, observing him respectfully, and as if he waited for some encouragement or expression of curiosity on Bunsby's part which should lead him to his own affairs. But as the mahogany philosopher gave no evidence of being sentient of anything but warmth and tobacco, except once, when taking his pipe from his lips to make room for his glass, he incidentally remarked with exceeding gruffness, that his name was Jack Bunsby - a declaration that presented but small opening for conversation - the Captain bespeaking his attention in a short complimentary exordium, narrated the whole history of Uncle Sol's departure, with the change it had produced in his own life and fortunes; and concluded by placing the packet on the table.
After a long pause, Mr Bunsby nodded his head.
'Open?' said the Captain.
Bunsby nodded again.
The Captain accordingly broke the seal, and disclosed to view two folded papers, of which he severally read the endorsements, thus: 'Last Will and Testament of Solomon Gills.' 'Letter for Ned Cuttle.'
Bunsby, with his eye on the coast of Greenland, seemed to listen for the contents. The Captain therefore hemmed to clear his throat, and read the letter aloud.
'"My dear Ned Cuttle. When I left home for the West Indies" - '
Here the Captain stopped, and looked hard at Bunsby, who looked fixedly at the coast of Greenland.
' - "in forlorn search of intelligence of my dear boy, I knew that if you were acquainted with my design, you would thwart it, or accompany me; and therefore I kept it secret. If you ever read this letter, Ned, I am likely to be dead. You will easily forgive an old friend's folly then, and will feel for the restlessness and uncertainty in which he wandered away on such a wild voyage. So no more of that. I have little hope that my poor boy will ever read these words, or gladden your eyes with the sight of his frank face any more." No, no; no more,' said Captain Cuttle, sorrowfully meditating; 'no more. There he lays, all his days - '
Mr Bunsby, who had a musical ear, suddenly bellowed, 'In the Bays of Biscay, O!' which so affected the good Captain, as an appropriate tribute to departed worth, that he shook him by the hand in acknowledgment, and was fain to wipe his eyes.
'Well, well!' said the Captain with a sigh, as the Lament of Bunsby ceased to ring and vibrate in the skylight. 'Affliction sore, long time he bore, and let us overhaul the wollume, and there find it.'
'Physicians,' observed Bunsby, 'was in vain."
'Ay, ay, to be sure,' said the Captain, 'what's the good o' them in two or three hundred fathoms o' water!' Then, returning to the letter, he read on: - '"But if he should be by, when it is opened;"' the Captain involuntarily looked round, and shook his head; '"or should know of it at any other time;"' the Captain shook his head again; '"my blessing on him! In case the accompanying paper is not legally written, it matters very little, for there is no one interested but you and he, and my plain wish is, that if he is living he should have what little there may be, and if (as I fear) otherwise, that you should have it, Ned. You will respect my wish, I know. God bless you for it, and for all your friendliness besides, to Solomon Gills." Bunsby!' said the Captain, appealing to him solemnly, 'what do you make of this? There you sit, a man as has had his head broke from infancy up'ards, and has got a new opinion into it at every seam as has been opened. Now, what do you make o' this?'
'If so be,' returned Bunsby, with unusual promptitude, 'as he's dead, my opinion is he won't come back no more. If so be as he's alive, my opinion is he will. Do I say he will? No. Why not? Because the bearings of this obserwation lays in the application on it.'
'Bunsby!' said Captain Cuttle, who would seem to have estimated the value of his distinguished friend's opinions in proportion to the immensity of the difficulty he experienced in making anything out of them; 'Bunsby,' said the Captain, quite confounded by admiration, 'you carry a weight of mind easy, as would swamp one of my tonnage soon. But in regard o' this here will, I don't mean to take no steps towards the property - Lord forbid! - except to keep it for a more rightful owner; and I hope yet as the rightful owner, Sol Gills, is living and'll come back, strange as it is that he ain't forwarded no dispatches. Now, what is your opinion, Bunsby, as to stowing of these here papers away again, and marking outside as they was opened, such a day, in the presence of John Bunsby and Ed'ard Cuttle?'
Bunsby, descrying no objection, on the coast of Greenland or elsewhere, to this proposal, it was carried into execution; and that great man, bringing his eye into the present for a moment, affixed his sign-manual to the cover, totally abstaining, with characteristic modesty, from the use of capital letters. Captain Cuttle, having attached his own left-handed signature, and locked up the packet in the iron safe, entreated his guest to mix another glass and smoke another pipe; and doing the like himself, fell a musing over the fire on the possible fortunes of the poor old Instrument-maker.
And now a surprise occurred, so overwhelming and terrific that Captain Cuttle, unsupported by the presence of Bunsby, must have sunk beneath it, and been a lost man from that fatal hour.
How the Captain, even in the satisfaction of admitting such a guest, could have only shut the door, and not locked it, of which negligence he was undoubtedly guilty, is one of those questions that must for ever remain mere points of speculation, or vague charges against destiny. But by that unlocked door, at this quiet moment, did the fell MacStinger dash into the parlour, bringing Alexander MacStinger in her parental arms, and confusion and vengeance (not to mention Juliana MacStinger, and the sweet child's brother, Charles MacStinger, popularly known about the scenes of his youthful sports, as Chowley) in her train. She came so swiftly and so silently, like a rushing air from the neighbourhood of the East India Docks, that Captain Cuttle found himself in the very act of sitting looking at her, before the calm face with which he had been meditating, changed to one of horror and dismay.
But the moment Captain Cuttle understood the full extent of his misfortune, self-preservation dictated an attempt at flight. Darting at the little door which opened from the parlour on the steep little range of cellar-steps, the Captain made a rush, head-foremost, at the latter, like a man indifferent to bruises and contusions, who only sought to hide himself in the bowels of the earth. In this gallant effort he would probably have succeeded, but for the affectionate dispositions of Juliana and Chowley, who pinning him by the legs - one of those dear children holding on to each - claimed him as their friend, with lamentable cries. In the meantime, Mrs MacStinger, who never entered upon any action of importance without previously inverting Alexander MacStinger, to bring him within the range of a brisk battery of slaps, and then sitting him down to cool as the reader first beheld him, performed that solemn rite, as if on this occasion it were a sacrifice to the Furies; and having deposited the victim on the floor, made at the Captain with a strength of purpose that appeared to threaten scratches to the interposing Bunsby.
The cries of the two elder MacStingers, and the wailing of young Alexander, who may be said to have passed a piebald childhood, forasmuch as he was black in the face during one half of that fairy period of existence, combined to make this visitation the more awful. But when silence reigned again, and the Captain, in a violent perspiration, stood meekly looking at Mrs MacStinger, its terrors were at their height.
'Oh, Cap'en Cuttle, Cap'en Cuttle!' said Mrs MacStinger, making her chin rigid, and shaking it in unison with what, but for the weakness of her sex, might be described as her fist. 'Oh, Cap'en Cuttle, Cap'en Cuttle, do you dare to look me in the face, and not be struck down in the herth!'
The Captain, who looked anything but daring, feebly muttered 'Standby!'
'Oh I was a weak and trusting Fool when I took you under my roof, Cap'en Cuttle, I was!' cried Mrs MacStinger. 'To think of the benefits I've showered on that man, and the way in which I brought my children up to love and honour him as if he was a father to 'em, when there ain't a housekeeper, no nor a lodger in our street, don't know that I lost money by that man, and by his guzzlings and his muzzlings' - Mrs MacStinger used the last word for the joint sake of alliteration and aggravation, rather than for the expression of any idea - 'and when they cried out one and all, shame upon him for putting upon an industrious woman, up early and late for the good of her young family, and keeping her poor place so clean that a individual might have ate his dinner, yes, and his tea too, if he was so disposed, off any one of the floors or stairs, in spite of all his guzzlings and his muzzlings, such was the care and pains bestowed upon him!'
Mrs MacStinger stopped to fetch her breath; and her face flushed with triumph in this second happy introduction of Captain Cuttle's muzzlings.
'And he runs awa-a-a-y!'cried Mrs MacStinger, with a lengthening out of the last syllable that made the unfortunate Captain regard himself as the meanest of men; 'and keeps away a twelve-month! From a woman! Such is his conscience! He hasn't the courage to meet her hi-i-igh;' long syllable again; 'but steals away, like a felion. Why, if that baby of mine,' said Mrs MacStinger, with sudden rapidity, 'was to offer to go and steal away, I'd do my duty as a mother by him, till he was covered with wales!'
The young Alexander, interpreting this into a positive promise, to be shortly redeemed, tumbled over with fear and grief, and lay upon the floor, exhibiting the soles of his shoes and making such a deafening outcry, that Mrs MacStinger found it necessary to take him up in her arms, where she quieted him, ever and anon, as he broke out again, by a shake that seemed enough to loosen his teeth.
'A pretty sort of a man is Cap'en Cuttle,' said Mrs MacStinger, with a sharp stress on the first syllable of the Captain's name, 'to take on for - and to lose sleep for- and to faint along of- and to think dead forsooth - and to go up and down the blessed town like a madwoman, asking questions after! Oh, a pretty sort of a man! Ha ha ha ha! He's worth all that trouble and distress of mind, and much more. That's nothing, bless you! Ha ha ha ha! Cap'en Cuttle,' said Mrs MacStinger, with severe reaction in her voice and manner, 'I wish to know if you're a-coming home.
The frightened Captain looked into his hat, as if he saw nothing for it but to put it on, and give himself up.
'Cap'en Cuttle,' repeated Mrs MacStinger, in the same determined manner, 'I wish to know if you're a-coming home, Sir.'
The Captain seemed quite ready to go, but faintly suggested something to the effect of 'not making so much noise about it.'
'Ay, ay, ay,' said Bunsby, in a soothing tone. 'Awast, my lass, awast!'
'And who may you be, if you please!' retorted Mrs MacStinger, with chaste loftiness. 'Did you ever lodge at Number Nine, Brig Place, Sir? My memory may be bad, but not with me, I think. There was a Mrs Jollson lived at Number Nine before me, and perhaps you're mistaking me for her. That is my only ways of accounting for your familiarity, Sir.'
'Come, come, my lass, awast, awast!' said Bunsby.
Captain Cuttle could hardly believe it, even of this great man, though he saw it done with his waking eyes; but Bunsby, advancing boldly, put his shaggy blue arm round Mrs MacStinger, and so softened her by his magic way of doing it, and by these few words - he said no more - that she melted into tears, after looking upon him for a few moments, and observed that a child might conquer her now, she was so low in her courage.
Speechless and utterly amazed, the Captain saw him gradually persuade this inexorable woman into the shop, return for rum and water and a candle, take them to her, and pacify her without appearing to utter one word. Presently he looked in with his pilot-coat on, and said, 'Cuttle, I'm a-going to act as convoy home;' and Captain Cuttle, more to his confusion than if he had been put in irons himself, for safe transport to Brig Place, saw the family pacifically filing off, with Mrs MacStinger at their head. He had scarcely time to take down his canister, and stealthily convey some money into the hands of Juliana MacStinger, his former favourite, and Chowley, who had the claim upon him that he was naturally of a maritime build, before the Midshipman was abandoned by them all; and Bunsby whispering that he'd carry on smart, and hail Ned Cuttle again before he went aboard, shut the door upon himself, as the last member of the party.
Some uneasy ideas that he must be walking in his sleep, or that he had been troubled with phantoms, and not a family of flesh and blood, beset the Captain at first, when he went back to the little parlour, and found himself alone. Illimitable faith in, and immeasurable admiration of, the Commander of the Cautious Clara, succeeded, and threw the Captain into a wondering trance.
Still, as time wore on, and Bunsby failed to reappear, the Captain began to entertain uncomfortable doubts of another kind. Whether Bunsby had been artfully decoyed to Brig Place, and was there detained in safe custody as hostage for his friend; in which case it would become the Captain, as a man of honour, to release him, by the sacrifice of his own liberty. Whether he had been attacked and defeated by Mrs MacStinger, and was ashamed to show himself after his discomfiture. Whether Mrs MacStinger, thinking better of it, in the uncertainty of her temper, had turned back to board the Midshipman again, and Bunsby, pretending to conduct her by a short cut, was endeavouring to lose the family amid the wilds and savage places of the City. Above all, what it would behove him, Captain Cuttle, to do, in case of his hearing no more, either of the MacStingers or of Bunsby, which, in these wonderful and unforeseen conjunctions of events, might possibly happen.
He debated all this until he was tired; and still no Bunsby. He made up his bed under the counter, all ready for turning in; and still no Bunsby. At length, when the Captain had given him up, for that night at least, and had begun to undress, the sound of approaching wheels was heard, and, stopping at the door, was succeeded by Bunsby's hail.
The Captain trembled to think that Mrs MacStinger was not to be got rid of, and had been brought back in a coach.
But no. Bunsby was accompanied by nothing but a large box, which he hauled into the shop with his own hands, and as soon as he had hauled in, sat upon. Captain Cuttle knew it for the chest he had left at Mrs MacStinger's house, and looking, candle in hand, at Bunsby more attentively, believed that he was three sheets in the wind, or, in plain words, drunk. It was difficult, however, to be sure of this; the Commander having no trace of expression in his face when sober.
'Cuttle,' said the Commander, getting off the chest, and opening the lid, 'are these here your traps?'
Captain Cuttle looked in and identified his property.
'Done pretty taut and trim, hey, shipmet?' said Bunsby.
The grateful and bewildered Captain grasped him by the hand, and was launching into a reply expressive of his astonished feelings, when Bunsby disengaged himself by a jerk of his wrist, and seemed to make an effort to wink with his revolving eye, the only effect of which attempt, in his condition, was nearly to over-balance him. He then abruptly opened the door, and shot away to rejoin the Cautious Clara with all speed - supposed to be his invariable custom, whenever he considered he had made a point.
As it was not his humour to be often sought, Captain Cuttle decided not to go or send to him next day, or until he should make his gracious pleasure known in such wise, or failing that, until some little time should have lapsed. The Captain, therefore, renewed his solitary life next morning, and thought profoundly, many mornings, noons, and nights, of old Sol Gills, and Bunsby's sentiments concerning him, and the hopes there were of his return. Much of such thinking strengthened Captain Cuttle's hopes; and he humoured them and himself by watching for the Instrument-maker at the door - as he ventured to do now, in his strange liberty - and setting his chair in its place, and arranging the little parlour as it used to be, in case he should come home unexpectedly. He likewise, in his thoughtfulness, took down a certain little miniature of Walter as a schoolboy, from its accustomed nail, lest it should shock the old man on his return. The Captain had his presentiments, too, sometimes, that he would come on such a day; and one particular Sunday, even ordered a double allowance of dinner, he was so sanguine. But come, old Solomon did not; and still the neighbours noticed how the seafaring man in the glazed hat, stood at the shop-door of an evening, looking up and down the street.
时间以它坚定的步伐和坚强的意志向前推进，年老的仪器制造商在留下的信件中，嘱咐他的朋友不许打开封好的包裹的一年期限就要满了；有一天晚上，卡特尔船长怀着神秘与不安的感觉望着它。
船长是一位正直的人，他从没想到过要在期满之前哪怕一个小时打开这个包裹，就像他从没想到过要剖开他自己来研究一下他身体的构造一样。他只是在晚间抽第一斗烟的时候把它拿出来，放在桌子上，然后接连两三个钟头坐在那里，通过烟雾，沉默而严肃地注视着它的外表。有时，船长在这样细心观察了好长一段时间之后，逐渐地把椅子往后拉开，拉开，仿佛要拉出包裹的魔力范围之外似的；可是如果这是他的意图的话，那么他却从没有成功过，甚至当客厅的墙壁挡住他的退路的时候，那个包裹仍旧吸引着他；或者如果他在浮思漫想之中把眼光转到天花板或炉火上去的话，那么它的形象就会立即跟随而来，显著地停落在煤块中间，或者在白色的灰泥上占据了一个有利的位置。
对于“心的喜悦”，船长慈父般的关怀与喜爱并没有改变。可是自从上次跟卡克先生会晤以后，卡特尔船长心中开始怀疑：他以前为了这位小姐和他亲爱的孩子沃尔特所进行过的干预究竟是不是已证明像他曾经期望过的以及他当时曾相信过的那么有利。船长非常忧虑，他所造成的害处已大于益处，这点使他心中苦恼不安。他在悔恨与自责的过程中，决心赎回自己的罪过；他所采取的办法就是使他自己根本不可能再有害于任何人，就好像把他自己当作一位危险的人物，给扔到船外去一样。
因此，船长就把自己埋没在仪器中间，从来不走近董贝先生的公馆，或设法让弗洛伦斯或尼珀小姐知道他的情况。他甚至跟珀奇先生也断绝了关系；在他最近来拜访的时候，他冷淡地通知这位先生，他感谢他的交情，可是他已决心跟所有的熟人不相来往，因为他担心他会在无意间把哪个弹药库给爆炸了。船长在这种心甘情愿的隐居中，除了跟磨工罗布交谈外，整整几天、整整几个星期不跟任何人交谈一句话；至于磨工罗布，船长则认为他不怀私心，情深义重，忠心耿耿，在这些方面可以称得上是个模范。船长在这样隐居的时候，有一天晚上注视着包裹，坐着抽烟，想着弗洛伦斯和可怜的沃尔特，直到后来，他们两人在他的朴实的想象中似乎已经死了，变成了永恒的青年——他最初记忆中的美丽的、天真烂漫的孩子——。
不过船长在沉思默想中并没有忽略自己的进步和对磨工罗布智力的培养。他通常要求这位年轻人每天晚上向他朗诵书本一小时。由于船长盲目地相信一切书本都是对的，所以罗布就通过这个途径积累了许多令人注目的知识。星期天晚上，船长在睡觉之前经常为他自己读基督有一次在一座山上布道①中的一些段落；虽然他习惯按照他自己的方式，不用书本，引用原文，可是他读的时候，仿佛早已熟记它的希腊文，对于它的每一句箴言他都能写出出色的神学论文，不论写多少篇都可以似的。
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①见《马太福音》5—7章。
磨工罗布对圣书的虔诚精神，在磨工学校美妙的制度下，曾经得到过很好的培养。他曾经不断地碰撞犹太族人的名字，在脑骨上留下永久的伤痕；他曾经单调无味地一遍又一遍地读着那些艰深难懂的韵文；特别是，他曾经受过惩罚，他还曾经在六岁的时候穿着皮裤，每星期天三次，在一座很闷热的教堂的很高的走廊中整步行进；那里有一架大风琴，像一只特别勤勉的蜜蜂一样，在他昏昏欲睡的脑袋上发出嗡嗡的响声；他就是通过这样一些途径，培养起对圣书的虔诚精神的。因此，每当船长停止朗读的时候，磨工罗布就装出一副深受启发的样子，而当朗读正在进行的时候，他则通常是打呵欠和打瞌睡。善良的船长从来没有怀疑会发生后面提到的那种情况。
卡特尔船长作为一个做生意的人，也记起帐来。他在这些帐册里记上他对于气候及运货马车和其他车辆行驶方向的观察；他注意到，在他那个地区内，这些车辆在早上和一天的大部分时间内是向西行驶的，到晚上则向东行驶。有一个星期有两三个过路的人进来看看，他们“跟他谈到”——船长这样记道——眼镜方面的事；他们什么也没有买，答应以后再来看看；船长判断生意开始要好转起来了，并在当天的日记帐中记载着：那时风吹来相当清新（他首先记载上这一点），风向西北；夜间有所改变。
船长的主要困难之一是图茨先生。他时常到这里来，话说得不多；看来他有个想法：小后客厅是个可以在那里吃吃发笑的合适的房间；虽然他和船长根本没有比以前更为亲密的关系，可是他却会在那里坐上整整半个小时，利用它的便利条件，来达到他的目的。船长根据最近的经验，变得谨慎小心，可是他仍然不能判断，图茨先生是不是确实就像他表面上看去那样，是个温顺的人，还是一位非常狡猾、善于掩饰的伪君子。他时常提到董贝小姐，这是可疑的，不过图茨先生表面上对船长是信赖的，船长内心对这一点怀有好感，所以就暂时克制自己，不做出不利于图茨先生的决定；每当图茨先生提到他内心深处的那个问题时，船长仅仅用难以形容的聪明的神色注视着他。
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生有一天以他惯常的方式，突然说道，“您能不能行个好，考虑一下我的建议，让我跟您交个朋友好吗？”
“啊，我的孩子，我来跟您说说，事情是怎样的，”船长终于决定了行动方针，回答道，“我已经想过这件事了。”
“吉尔斯船长，您真好，”图茨先生回答道，“我非常感谢您。说实话，我以荣誉向您发誓，您能让我荣幸地跟您交个朋友，这真是做了一件仁慈的事。确实是这样的。”
“我得说，老弟，”船长慢吞吞地说道，“我不了解您。”
“可是如果您不让我荣幸地跟您交朋友的话，”图茨先生坚定地向着目标前进，回答道，“那么您就永远也不能了解我了。”
船长似乎被这个新颖而有力的意见所打动，看着图茨先生，仿佛心中想到，他身上具有更多的东西，是他原先没有料想到的。
“说得好，我的孩子，”船长沉思地点着头，说道，“说得不错。现在您听着，您向我讲过一些话，我从您的话中了解到，您爱慕上一位可爱的人儿，是不是？”
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生用拿着帽子的那只手有力她打着手势，说道，“爱慕不是个确切的字眼。我以荣誉发誓，您根本想不出我的感情是怎样的。如果能把我的皮肤染成黑色，让我做董贝小姐的奴隶，那么我将认为这是对我的恩惠。如果我能够以我的全部财产为代价，投生成董贝小姐的一条狗的话，——那么我——我确实认为，我将会永远不停地摇着尾巴。我将会感到无限幸福，吉尔斯船长！”
图茨先生说这些话的时候，眼泪汪汪，同时怀着深情，把帽子紧紧压着胸脯。
“我的孩子，”船长被他感动了，产生了怜悯心，因此回答道，“如果您是真心实意的话——”
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生喊道，“我现在处于这样一种心情，我死心塌地、真心实意到了这样一种地步，如果我能在一块炽热的铁块上，或者在一块火红的煤块上，或者在熔化的铅上，或者在燃烧的封蜡上，或者在任何这一类东西上发誓的话，那么我将高兴烧伤我自己，这样我的感情就可以得到宽慰了，”图茨先生急忙往房间四处张望，仿佛想要找到一种足够痛苦的手段，来达到他那可怕的目的似的。
船长把他那顶上了光的帽子推向脑后，用沉重的手敲打着脸孔，使它低垂下去——这使他的鼻子显出更多的颜色来了——，然后在图茨先生面前站住，用钩子钩住他的上衣翻领，对他说了以下的一些话；这时候图茨先生十分注意地，并带着几分惊奇地仰望着他的脸孔。
“您知道，我的孩子，”船长说道，“如果您是真心实意的话，那么我就应当仁慈地对待您，而仁慈是不列颠人头上所戴花冠中最明亮的宝石；请您阅读一下英国的爱国国歌中阐述的宪法，当您找到的时候，那就是守护天使许多次为它歌唱的宪章。做好准备！您向我提出的建议使我大吃一惊。为什么这样？因为您明白，我像一条船一样，独自停留在这里的海面上，没有别的僚艇，也许我也不需要它们。别着急！您第一次是由于一位小姐的缘故来跟我打招呼的，是她准许您来的。现在，如果您真想要跟我交朋友的话，那么我们就决不应该在这里称呼或提到这位小姐的名字。在这之前，由于称呼她的名字太随便了，我不知道曾经招来多少不幸，因此我现在闭口不谈她。老弟，您明白我的意思了吗？”
“唔，吉尔斯先生，”图茨先生回答道，“如果我有时听不太懂您的话，请您原谅我。不过，说实话，吉尔斯船长，要我不能提到董贝小姐，这是很为难的事。我这里确实有着一份十分可怕的负担！”图茨先生用两只手摸着衬衫的胸口，“我日日夜夜都感觉到它，仿佛有什么人坐在我身上似的。”
“这就是我所提的条件，”船长说道，“老弟，如果这对于您过于苛刻的话——可能是这样的——，那么就请离开得远远地，改换一条航道，我们高高兴兴地分手吧！”
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生回答道，“我真不知道这是怎么回事，不过自从我第一次上您这里，您跟我谈过那些话之后，我——我觉得我跟您在一起的时候想着董贝小姐，比跟其他任何人在一起的时候谈到她还愉快。所以，吉尔斯船长，如果您肯答应我跟您交朋友的话，那么我将十分乐意遵守您所提出的条件。我愿意做一位正直的人，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生把伸出的手又缩回来一会儿，说道，“因此，我不得不说明，我不能不想到董贝小姐。要我答应不想到她，这是不可能的。”
“我的孩子，”船长说道，由于图茨先生这样坦率的发誓，船长对他的看法比先前好多了，“人的思想像风一样，任何人都不能在任何时候给它们担保。不过在讲话方面，我们是不是就这样约定了。”
“说到讲话方面，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生回答道，“我想我是能约束自己的。”
图茨先生当场立刻就向卡特尔船长伸出手去；船长露出愉快和仁慈的神色，赐予他恩惠，正式同意跟他交朋友。图茨先生似乎由于如愿以偿，感到十分安慰和欢喜，在其余的时间里一直吃吃地笑着，直到离开为止。在船长这方面，他对担当庇护人的角色并没有感到有什么不高兴的，而且他对他自己的谨慎小心和深谋远虑是感到极为满意的。
卡特尔船长的后一种性格虽然十分突出，可是这一天晚上他却从磨工罗布这样憨厚、纯朴的年轻人那里遇到一件意外的事情。这位老实的小伙子跟船长坐在同一张桌子旁边喝着茶；船长戴上眼镜，极为费劲、但神情却十分尊严地读着报纸；罗布向他带托的茶杯温顺地低下头，并斜眼对他主人观察了一些时候之后，打破沉默，说道：
“啊！请原谅，船长，不过，也许您需要鸽子吧，是不是，先生？”
“不需要，我的孩子，”船长回答道。
“因为我想把我的鸽子给处理掉，船长，”罗布说道。
“啊，真的吗？”船长稍稍扬起他那浓密的眉毛，喊道。
“是的，我要走了，船长，如果您允许的话，”罗布说道。
“走了？你要上哪里去？”船长转过头，越过眼镜，看着他，问道。
“怎么？难道您不知道我要离开您吗，船长？”罗布胆怯心虚地微笑了一下，问道。
船长放下报纸，摘掉眼镜，一动不动地注视着这位要抛弃他的人。
“啊是的，船长，我正想事先告诉您。我原以为，您也许早已知道了，”罗布搓着手，站起来，说道，“如果您肯行个好，很快找到另一位仆人的话，那么，船长，那对我将会是极大的方便。我担心，您明天早上找不到什么人吧，船长，您认为您能找到吗？”
“这么说，你是打算变换旗号了，是不是，我的孩子？”船长长久地细细看着他的脸孔之后，说道。
“啊，船长，您对待年轻小伙子太严厉了，”心地温厚的罗布片刻间感到又委屈又愤怒，喊道，“他规规矩矩地预先告诉您，可是您却那么皱着眉头，看着他，还骂他是个变节的人。船长，您没有任何权利辱骂一个可怜的年轻人。不能因为我是仆人，您是主人，您就来诽谤我。我做了什么不好的事啦？您说吧，船长，请您告诉我，我犯了什么罪了，好不好？”
伤心的磨工大哭起来，并用外衣袖口擦着眼睛。
“喂，船长，”受了委屈的年轻人喊道，“请给我定一个罪名吧！我是个什么人，我做了什么啦？我偷东西了吗？我放火烧房子了吗？如果我干过这些事，那么您为什么不去控告我和审判我？可是，一位曾经是您的好仆人的孩子，就因为他不能为了您的利益而妨碍他自己的前程，您就败坏他的名誉，这是什么样的侮辱！对于忠心耿耿的服务又是何等恶劣的报答啊！这就是为什么一些年轻小伙子会离开正道，走入歧途的原因！我真对您感到惊奇，船长。”
所有这些话，磨工都是泪流满面，嚎啕大哭着说出来的，同时他又小心翼翼地往门口退去。
“这么说，你已经找到另一个铺位了，是不是，我的孩子？”
船长聚精会神地注视着他。
“是的，船长，就用您的话来说吧，我已经找到另一个铺位了，”罗布哭道，一边继续向后退去；“一个比这里更好的铺位；我不需要您替我在那里说一句好话，船长，这对我来说是幸运的，因为由于我穷，由于我不能为了您的利益而妨碍我自己的前程，您已臭骂了我一顿。是的，我已经找到了另一个铺位；如果我不是担心没有找到另外的仆人，就把您留下来的话，那么我真愿意现在就到那里去，而不来听您因为我穷，因为我不能为了您的利益而妨碍我自己的前程而谩骂我。您为什么因为我穷，因为我不能为了您的利益而妨碍我自己的前程就责怪我呢，船长，您为什么能这样行事呢？”“你听我说，我的孩子，”船长心平气和地回答道，“你最好别再说这些话。”
“唔，那么您最好也别再对我说那些话，船长，”被惹得生气了的无辜的人说道，并继续后退到店铺里去；他的哭声愈来愈响了；“我宁肯您抽掉我的血，也不要败坏我的名誉！”
“因为，”船长平平静静地继续说道，“你也许听说过打人用的短绳这种东西吧！”
“您听说过吗，船长？”骂骂咧咧的磨工喊道，“没有，我没听说过。我从来没听说过这样一种东西！”
“唔，”船长说道，“我相信，如果你不是时刻防备着的话，那么你将会很快熟悉它的。我明白你的信号，我的孩子。你可以走了。”
“这么说，我立刻就可以走了，是不是，船长？”罗布由于取得成功而欢天喜地，喊道，“可是记住！我从没有请求您让我立刻就走，船长。您不能再一次败坏我的名誉，因为您是出于自愿叫我走的。您也没有权利扣发我的工资，船长！”
他的主人取出锡制的茶叶罐，把应该付给磨工的钱在桌子上全部点清，因此把他所提出的最后一个问题给解决了。罗布装着可怜相，抽抽嗒嗒地哭泣着；他在感情上虽然受到了极大的伤害，但却把硬币一个个地捡起来，每捡起一个就装着可怜相，抽抽嗒嗒地哭泣一次，并把它们一个个分别塞进用手绢结成的小圆包里；然后，他登上屋顶，在帽子和口袋里装满了鸽子；然后，他走下来，到柜台下面的床铺边，把他的物品捆成一个包袱；这时他装着可怜相，抽抽嗒嗒地哭泣得更响，仿佛他的心已被往事的回忆撕得粉碎了；接着，他哀哭着，说道，“再见吧，船长，我离开您是没有恶意的！”然后，他走出到门口的台阶上，把小海军军官候补生的鼻子揪了一下，作为离别时给他的一点侮辱，最后他得意扬扬地露着牙齿笑着，走进了街道。
当只剩下船长一个人的时候，他又重新拿起报纸，仿佛没有发生过任何不寻常或意外的事情似的，继续孜孜不倦地念下去。可是卡特尔船长虽然念了好多，但却一个字也不明白，因为磨工罗布一直在报纸各栏之间蹦来跳去。
船长过去是否曾像现在这样感到被人遗弃过，这很难说；可是现在，老所尔•吉尔斯，沃尔特，心的喜悦，对他来说，是真正失去了，卡克先生又残酷地欺骗和戏弄了他。虚伪的罗布代表了他们所有的人；船长曾经很多次把心中最美好的回忆讲给他听；他曾经相信这个虚伪的罗布，而且是高高兴兴地相信他的；他曾经把他当作自己的一位伴侣，就像是一艘船中唯一还活着的朋友一样；他曾经把他当作得力助手，执行着小海军军官候补生的命令；他曾经打算尽他对他的责任；他对这孩子也曾抱有十分亲切的感情，仿佛他们曾经在同一艘船中遇难，一道被风浪吹刮到一个荒无人烟的地方似的。可是现在，当虚伪的罗布已把不信任、叛变和卑鄙带进客厅这个神圣的地方时，卡特尔船长感到客厅仿佛可能就要沉陷下去似的；如果它真正沉陷下去的话，那么他并不会感到十分惊奇，也不会感到有什么很大忧虑的。
因此，卡特尔船长十分专心地念着报纸，但却丝毫也不理解；因此，卡特尔船长没有自言自语地说到任何有关罗布的话；他不承认他在想他；虽然他感到自己现在像鲁滨逊•克鲁索一样孤独，但他不承认罗布跟他的这种感受有丝毫关系。
在同样一种镇静自若，不慌不忙的情况下，船长在薄暮时步行到伦敦肉类市场，跟那里一位值班的看守人讲好，让他每天夜间和早上前来关上和打开木制海军军官候补生的百叶窗。然后他走进小餐馆，把每天从那里供应给海军军官候补生的食物减少一半，又走进酒吧，通知停止向那位叛逆者供应啤酒。“我那位年轻人，”船长向站柜台的姑娘解释说，“我那位年轻人已经找到一份更好的工作了，小姐。”最后，船长作为产业的唯一看管人，决定把柜台下面的床铺接收下来，他在夜间就在这里而不上楼去安息。
从此以后，卡特尔船长每天早上六点钟就从这张床上起来，把上了光的帽子扣到额上；那份孤独的神态就跟克鲁索带上山羊皮帽子，结束梳洗时一样；虽然他对野蛮部族麦克•斯廷杰的侵袭的恐惧已减少一些，就像那位孤独的航海家在很长时间内没有见到吃人肉者的形迹，逐渐减少忧虑相似，可是他仍按照常规，遵守那些防御措施，每当看到女帽的时候，总要退避到他的堡垒里，事先侦察一番。在这段时间中（图茨先生来信说，他到城外去了，所以没有前来拜访），他自己的他听起来都开始觉得奇怪了；同时由于经常不断地拭擦和安放存货，并由于长久地坐在柜台后面阅读和向窗外看望，他养成了沉思的习惯，因此他前额上被上了光的坚硬的帽子扣成的红圈有时因为过度的思考而发痛。
现在一年的期限满了，卡特尔船长认为该把包裹打开了；可是由于他过去一直打算当着把包裹带给他的罗布的面做这件事，而且他还认为当着别人的面打开它是合适和正当的，因此现在缺少一位见证人，他感到很烦恼。正在感到为难的时候，有一天他在报纸“航运消息”栏中看到一则通告：“谨慎的克拉拉”号和它的船长约翰•邦斯贝从一次沿海岸的航行中回来了，他看完之后以异乎寻常的高兴发出了欢呼，并立即向这位智慧超群的人邮寄了一封信，叮嘱他为他住所的地址保守秘密，并请他尽早在晚间来看他。
邦斯贝是那些按照信念行事的聪明人当中的一位，他花了几天工夫才在心中完全树立了这个信念：他已收到了一封大意如此的信。可是当他掌握了这个事实，并彻底弄清楚它之后，他立即就派他的见习船员送去口信：“他今天晚上就来。”这位见习船员被指示去传达这些任务之后就消失不见了，他像一个担负着神秘嘱托、身上涂着柏油的精灵似的，完成了他的使命。
船长接到口信十分高兴，准备好朗姆酒和水，在后客厅里等候着他的客人。八点钟，店门外像是海牛发出的一声深沉的叫声，接着是手杖在门上嵌板上的敲打声，向卡特尔船长注意听着的耳朵通报：邦斯贝已向他靠拢了；船长立即让他进来；他头发蓬松，红木色的脸孔显得迟钝发呆；像往常一样，他仿佛没有看到眼前的任何东西，而是在注意观察世界另一部分发生的什么事。
“邦斯贝，”船长抓住他的手，说道，“您好吧，好朋友，您好吧！”
“老船友，”邦斯贝身体内发出的回答道，但是这位商船指挥者本人的神态却没有任何相应的变化，“我身体还不错，还不错。”
“邦斯贝，”船长向他的天才表示了难以抑制的敬意，说道，“您来啦！您的见解比钻石还明亮呵！您给我派来的那位穿柏油裤子的年轻小伙子就像钻石一样闪闪发光！请您查一下《斯坦菲尔选集》，可以找到这句
Chapter 40
Domestic Relations
It was not in the nature of things that a man of Mr Dombey's mood, opposed to such a spirit as he had raised against himself, should be softened in the imperious asperity of his temper; or that the cold hard armour of pride in which he lived encased, should be made more flexible by constant collision with haughty scorn and defiance. It is the curse of such a nature - it is a main part of the heavy retribution on itself it bears within itself - that while deference and concession swell its evil qualities, and are the food it grows upon, resistance and a questioning of its exacting claims, foster it too, no less. The evil that is in it finds equally its means of growth and propagation in opposites. It draws support and life from sweets and bitters; bowed down before, or unacknowledged, it still enslaves the breast in which it has its throne; and, worshipped or rejected, is as hard a master as the Devil in dark fables.
Towards his first wife, Mr Dombey, in his cold and lofty arrogance, had borne himself like the removed Being he almost conceived himself to be. He had been 'Mr Dombey' with her when she first saw him, and he was 'Mr Dombey' when she died. He had asserted his greatness during their whole married life, and she had meekly recognised it. He had kept his distant seat of state on the top of his throne, and she her humble station on its lowest step; and much good it had done him, so to live in solitary bondage to his one idea. He had imagined that the proud character of his second wife would have been added to his own - would have merged into it, and exalted his greatness. He had pictured himself haughtier than ever, with Edith's haughtiness subservient to his. He had never entertained the possibility of its arraying itself against him. And now, when he found it rising in his path at every step and turn of his daily life, fixing its cold, defiant, and contemptuous face upon him, this pride of his, instead of withering, or hanging down its head beneath the shock, put forth new shoots, became more concentrated and intense, more gloomy, sullen, irksome, and unyielding, than it had ever been before.
Who wears such armour, too, bears with him ever another heavy retribution. It is of proof against conciliation, love, and confidence; against all gentle sympathy from without, all trust, all tenderness, all soft emotion; but to deep stabs in the self-love, it is as vulnerable as the bare breast to steel; and such tormenting festers rankle there, as follow on no other wounds, no, though dealt with the mailed hand of Pride itself, on weaker pride, disarmed and thrown down.
Such wounds were his. He felt them sharply, in the solitude of his old rooms; whither he now began often to retire again, and pass long solitary hours. It seemed his fate to be ever proud and powerful; ever humbled and powerless where he would be most strong. Who seemed fated to work out that doom?
Who? Who was it who could win his wife as she had won his boy? Who was it who had shown him that new victory, as he sat in the dark corner? Who was it whose least word did what his utmost means could not? Who was it who, unaided by his love, regard or notice, thrived and grew beautiful when those so aided died? Who could it be, but the same child at whom he had often glanced uneasily in her motherless infancy, with a kind of dread, lest he might come to hate her; and of whom his foreboding was fulfilled, for he DID hate her in his heart?
Yes, and he would have it hatred, and he made it hatred, though some sparkles of the light in which she had appeared before him on the memorable night of his return home with his Bride, occasionally hung about her still. He knew now that she was beautiful; he did not dispute that she was graceful and winning, and that in the bright dawn of her womanhood she had come upon him, a surprise. But he turned even this against her. In his sullen and unwholesome brooding, the unhappy man, with a dull perception of his alienation from all hearts, and a vague yearning for what he had all his life repelled, made a distorted picture of his rights and wrongs, and justified himself with it against her. The worthier she promised to be of him, the greater claim he was disposed to antedate upon her duty and submission. When had she ever shown him duty and submission? Did she grace his life - or Edith's? Had her attractions been manifested first to him - or Edith? Why, he and she had never been, from her birth, like father and child! They had always been estranged. She had crossed him every way and everywhere. She was leagued against him now. Her very beauty softened natures that were obdurate to him, and insulted him with an unnatural triumph.
It may have been that in all this there were mutterings of an awakened feeling in his breast, however selfishly aroused by his position of disadvantage, in comparison with what she might have made his life. But he silenced the distant thunder with the rolling of his sea of pride. He would bear nothing but his pride. And in his pride, a heap of inconsistency, and misery, and self-inflicted torment, he hated her.
To the moody, stubborn, sullen demon, that possessed him, his wife opposed her different pride in its full force. They never could have led a happy life together; but nothing could have made it more unhappy, than the wilful and determined warfare of such elements. His pride was set upon maintaining his magnificent supremacy, and forcing recognition of it from her. She would have been racked to death, and turned but her haughty glance of calm inflexible disdain upon him, to the last. Such recognition from Edith! He little knew through what a storm and struggle she had been driven onward to the crowning honour of his hand. He little knew how much she thought she had conceded, when she suffered him to call her wife.
Mr Dombey was resolved to show her that he was supreme. There must be no will but his. Proud he desired that she should be, but she must be proud for, not against him. As he sat alone, hardening, he would often hear her go out and come home, treading the round of London life with no more heed of his liking or disliking, pleasure or displeasure, than if he had been her groom. Her cold supreme indifference - his own unquestioned attribute usurped - stung him more than any other kind of treatment could have done; and he determined to bend her to his magnificent and stately will.
He had been long communing with these thoughts, when one night he sought her in her own apartment, after he had heard her return home late. She was alone, in her brilliant dress, and had but that moment come from her mother's room. Her face was melancholy and pensive, when he came upon her; but it marked him at the door; for, glancing at the mirror before it, he saw immediately, as in a picture-frame, the knitted brow, and darkened beauty that he knew so well.
'Mrs Dombey,' he said, entering, 'I must beg leave to have a few words with you.'
'To-morrow,' she replied.
'There is no time like the present, Madam,' he returned. 'You mistake your position. I am used to choose my own times; not to have them chosen for me. I think you scarcely understand who and what I am, Mrs Dombey.
'I think,' she answered, 'that I understand you very well.'
She looked upon him as she said so, and folding her white arms, sparkling with gold and gems, upon her swelling breast, turned away her eyes.
If she had been less handsome, and less stately in her cold composure, she might not have had the power of impressing him with the sense of disadvantage that penetrated through his utmost pride. But she had the power, and he felt it keenly. He glanced round the room: saw how the splendid means of personal adornment, and the luxuries of dress, were scattered here and there, and disregarded; not in mere caprice and carelessness (or so he thought), but in a steadfast haughty disregard of costly things: and felt it more and more. Chaplets of flowers, plumes of feathers, jewels, laces, silks and satins; look where he would, he saw riches, despised, poured out, and. made of no account. The very diamonds - a marriage gift - that rose and fell impatiently upon her bosom, seemed to pant to break the chain that clasped them round her neck, and roll down on the floor where she might tread upon them.
He felt his disadvantage, and he showed it. Solemn and strange among this wealth of colour and voluptuous glitter, strange and constrained towards its haughty mistress, whose repellent beauty it repeated, and presented all around him, as in so many fragments of a mirror, he was conscious of embarrassment and awkwardness. Nothing that ministered to her disdainful self-possession could fail to gall him. Galled and irritated with himself, he sat down, and went on, in no improved humour:
'Mrs Dombey, it is very necessary that there should be some understanding arrived at between us. Your conduct does not please me, Madam.'
She merely glanced at him again, and again averted her eyes; but she might have spoken for an hour, and expressed less.
'I repeat, Mrs Dombey, does not please me. I have already taken occasion to request that it may be corrected. I now insist upon it.'
'You chose a fitting occasion for your first remonstrance, Sir, and you adopt a fitting manner, and a fitting word for your second. You insist! To me!'
'Madam,' said Mr Dombey, with his most offensive air of state, 'I have made you my wife. You bear my name. You are associated with my position and my reputation. I will not say that the world in general may be disposed to think you honoured by that association; but I will say that I am accustomed to "insist," to my connexions and dependents.'
'Which may you be pleased to consider me? she asked.
'Possibly I may think that my wife should partake - or does partake, and cannot help herself - of both characters, Mrs Dombey.'
She bent her eyes upon him steadily, and set her trembling lips. He saw her bosom throb, and saw her face flush and turn white. All this he could know, and did: but he could not know that one word was whispering in the deep recesses of her heart, to keep her quiet; and that the word was Florence.
Blind idiot, rushing to a precipice! He thought she stood in awe of him.
'You are too expensive, Madam,' said Mr Dombey. 'You are extravagant. You waste a great deal of money - or what would be a great deal in the pockets of most gentlemen - in cultivating a kind of society that is useless to me, and, indeed, that upon the whole is disagreeable to me. I have to insist upon a total change in all these respects. I know that in the novelty of possessing a tithe of such means as Fortune has placed at your disposal, ladies are apt to run into a sudden extreme. There has been more than enough of that extreme. I beg that Mrs Granger's very different experiences may now come to the instruction of Mrs Dombey.'
Still the fixed look, the trembling lips, the throbbing breast, the face now crimson and now white; and still the deep whisper Florence, Florence, speaking to her in the beating of her heart.
His insolence of self-importance dilated as he saw this alteration in her. Swollen no less by her past scorn of him, and his so recent feeling of disadvantage, than by her present submission (as he took it to be), it became too mighty for his breast, and burst all bounds. Why, who could long resist his lofty will and pleasure! He had resolved to conquer her, and look here!
'You will further please, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, in a tone of sovereign command, 'to understand distinctly, that I am to be deferred to and obeyed. That I must have a positive show and confession of deference before the world, Madam. I am used to this. I require it as my right. In short I will have it. I consider it no unreasonable return for the worldly advancement that has befallen you; and I believe nobody will be surprised, either at its being required from you, or at your making it. - To Me - To Me!' he added, with emphasis.
No word from her. No change in her. Her eyes upon him.
'I have learnt from your mother, Mrs Dombey,' said Mr Dombey, with magisterial importance, what no doubt you know, namely, that Brighton is recommended for her health. Mr Carker has been so good
She changed suddenly. Her face and bosom glowed as if the red light of an angry sunset had been flung upon them. Not unobservant of the change, and putting his own interpretation upon it, Mr Dombey resumed:
'Mr Carker has been so good as to go down and secure a house there, for a time. On the return of the establishment to London, I shall take such steps for its better management as I consider necessary. One of these, will be the engagement at Brighton (if it is to be effected), of a very respectable reduced person there, a Mrs Pipchin, formerly employed in a situation of trust in my family, to act as housekeeper. An establishment like this, presided over but nominally, Mrs Dombey, requires a competent head.'
She had changed her attitude before he arrived at these words, and now sat - still looking at him fixedly - turning a bracelet round and round upon her arm; not winding it about with a light, womanly touch, but pressing and dragging it over the smooth skin, until the white limb showed a bar of red.
'I observed,' said Mr Dombey - 'and this concludes what I deem it necessary to say to you at present, Mrs Dombey - I observed a moment ago, Madam, that my allusion to Mr Carker was received in a peculiar manner. On the occasion of my happening to point out to you, before that confidential agent, the objection I had to your mode of receiving my visitors, you were pleased to object to his presence. You will have to get the better of that objection, Madam, and to accustom yourself to it very probably on many similar occasions; unless you adopt the remedy which is in your own hands, of giving me no cause of complaint. Mr Carker,' said Mr Dombey, who, after the emotion he had just seen, set great store by this means of reducing his proud wife, and who was perhaps sufficiently willing to exhibit his power to that gentleman in a new and triumphant aspect, 'Mr Carker being in my confidence, Mrs Dombey, may very well be in yours to such an extent. I hope, Mrs Dombey,' he continued, after a few moments, during which, in his increasing haughtiness, he had improved on his idea, 'I may not find it necessary ever to entrust Mr Carker with any message of objection or remonstrance to you; but as it would be derogatory to my position and reputation to be frequently holding trivial disputes with a lady upon whom I have conferred the highest distinction that it is in my power to bestow, I shall not scruple to avail myself of his services if I see occasion.'
'And now,' he thought, rising in his moral magnificence, and rising a stiffer and more impenetrable man than ever, 'she knows me and my resolution.'
The hand that had so pressed the bracelet was laid heavily upon her breast, but she looked at him still, with an unaltered face, and said in a low voice:
'Wait! For God's sake! I must speak to you.'
Why did she not, and what was the inward struggle that rendered her incapable of doing so, for minutes, while, in the strong constraint she put upon her face, it was as fixed as any statue's - looking upon him with neither yielding nor unyielding, liking nor hatred, pride not humility: nothing but a searching gaze?
'Did I ever tempt you to seek my hand? Did I ever use any art to win you? Was I ever more conciliating to you when you pursued me, than I have been since our marriage? Was I ever other to you than I am?'
'It is wholly unnecessary, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, 'to enter upon such discussions.'
'Did you think I loved you? Did you know I did not? Did you ever care, Man! for my heart, or propose to yourself to win the worthless thing? Was there any poor pretence of any in our bargain? Upon your side, or on mine?'
'These questions,' said Mr Dombey, 'are all wide of the purpose, Madam.'
She moved between him and the door to prevent his going away, and drawing her majestic figure to its height, looked steadily upon him still.
'You answer each of them. You answer me before I speak, I see. How can you help it; you who know the miserable truth as well as I? Now, tell me. If I loved you to devotion, could I do more than render up my whole will and being to you, as you have just demanded? If my heart were pure and all untried, and you its idol, could you ask more; could you have more?'
'Possibly not, Madam,' he returned coolly.
'You know how different I am. You see me looking on you now, and you can read the warmth of passion for you that is breathing in my face.' Not a curl of the proud lip, not a flash of the dark eye, nothing but the same intent and searching look, accompanied these words. 'You know my general history. You have spoken of my mother. Do you think you can degrade, or bend or break, me to submission and obedience?'
Mr Dombey smiled, as he might have smiled at an inquiry whether he thought he could raise ten thousand pounds.
'If there is anything unusual here,' she said, with a slight motion of her hand before her brow, which did not for a moment flinch from its immovable and otherwise expressionless gaze, 'as I know there are unusual feelings here,' raising the hand she pressed upon her bosom, and heavily returning it, 'consider that there is no common meaning in the appeal I am going to make you. Yes, for I am going;' she said it as in prompt reply to something in his face; 'to appeal to you.'
Mr Dombey, with a slightly condescending bend of his chin that rustled and crackled his stiff cravat, sat down on a sofa that was near him, to hear the appeal.
'If you can believe that I am of such a nature now,' - he fancied he saw tears glistening in her eyes, and he thought, complacently, that he had forced them from her, though none fell on her cheek, and she regarded him as steadily as ever, - 'as would make what I now say almost incredible to myself, said to any man who had become my husband, but, above all, said to you, you may, perhaps, attach the greater weight to it. In the dark end to which we are tending, and may come, we shall not involve ourselves alone (that might not be much) but others.'
Others! He knew at whom that word pointed, and frowned heavily.
'I speak to you for the sake of others. Also your own sake; and for mine. Since our marriage, you have been arrogant to me; and I have repaid you in kind. You have shown to me and everyone around us, every day and hour, that you think I am graced and distinguished by your alliance. I do not think so, and have shown that too. It seems you do not understand, or (so far as your power can go) intend that each of us shall take a separate course; and you expect from me instead, a homage you will never have.'
Although her face was still the same, there was emphatic confirmation of this 'Never' in the very breath she drew.
'I feel no tenderness towards you; that you know. You would care nothing for it, if I did or could. I know as well that you feel none towards me. But we are linked together; and in the knot that ties us, as I have said, others are bound up. We must both die; we are both connected with the dead already, each by a little child. Let us forbear.'
Mr Dombey took a long respiration, as if he would have said, Oh! was this all!
'There is no wealth,' she went on, turning paler as she watched him, while her eyes grew yet more lustrous in their earnestness, 'that could buy these words of me, and the meaning that belongs to them. Once cast away as idle breath, no wealth or power can bring them back. I mean them; I have weighed them; and I will be true to what I undertake. If you will promise to forbear on your part, I will promise to forbear on mine. We are a most unhappy pair, in whom, from different causes, every sentiment that blesses marriage, or justifies it, is rooted out; but in the course of time, some friendship, or some fitness for each other, may arise between us. I will try to hope so, if you will make the endeavour too; and I will look forward to a better and a happier use of age than I have made of youth or prime.
Throughout she had spoken in a low plain voice, that neither rose nor fell; ceasing, she dropped the hand with which she had enforced herself to be so passionless and distinct, but not the eyes with which she had so steadily observed him.
'Madam,' said Mr Dombey, with his utmost dignity, 'I cannot entertain any proposal of this extraordinary nature.
She looked at him yet, without the least change.
'I cannot,' said Mr Dombey, rising as he spoke, 'consent to temporise or treat with you, Mrs Dombey, upon a subject as to which you are in possession of my opinions and expectations. I have stated my ultimatum, Madam, and have only to request your very serious attention to it.'
To see the face change to its old expression, deepened in intensity! To see the eyes droop as from some mean and odious object! To see the lighting of the haughty brow! To see scorn, anger, indignation, and abhorrence starting into sight, and the pale blank earnestness vanish like a mist! He could not choose but look, although he looked to his dismay.
'Go, Sir!' she said, pointing with an imperious hand towards the door. 'Our first and last confidence is at an end. Nothing can make us stranger to each other than we are henceforth.'
'I shall take my rightful course, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, 'undeterred, you may be sure, by any general declamation.'
She turned her back upon him, and, without reply, sat down before her glass.
'I place my reliance on your improved sense of duty, and more correct feeling, and better reflection, Madam,' said Mr Dombey.
She answered not one word. He saw no more expression of any heed of him, in the mirror, than if he had been an unseen spider on the wall, or beetle on the floor, or rather, than if he had been the one or other, seen and crushed when she last turned from him, and forgotten among the ignominious and dead vermin of the ground.
He looked back, as he went out at the door, upon the well-lighted and luxurious room, the beautiful and glittering objects everywhere displayed, the shape of Edith in its rich dress seated before her glass, and the face of Edith as the glass presented it to him; and betook himself to his old chamber of cogitation, carrying away with him a vivid picture in his mind of all these things, and a rambling and unaccountable speculation (such as sometimes comes into a man's head) how they would all look when he saw them next.
For the rest, Mr Dombey was very taciturn, and very dignified, and very confident of carrying out his purpose; and remained so.
He did not design accompanying the family to Brighton; but he graciously informed Cleopatra at breakfast, on the morning of departure, which arrived a day or two afterwards, that he might be expected down, soon. There was no time to be lost in getting Cleopatra to any place recommended as being salutary; for, indeed, she seemed upon the wane, and turning of the earth, earthy.
Without having undergone any decided second attack of her malady, the old woman seemed to have crawled backward in her recovery from the first. She was more lean and shrunken, more uncertain in her imbecility, and made stranger confusions in her mind and memory. Among other symptoms of this last affliction, she fell into the habit of confounding the names of her two sons-in-law, the living and the deceased; and in general called Mr Dombey, either 'Grangeby,' or 'Domber,' or indifferently, both.
But she was youthful, very youthful still; and in her youthfulness appeared at breakfast, before going away, in a new bonnet made express, and a travelling robe that was embroidered and braided like an old baby's. It was not easy to put her into a fly-away bonnet now, or to keep the bonnet in its place on the back of her poor nodding head, when it was got on. In this instance, it had not only the extraneous effect of being always on one side, but of being perpetually tapped on the crown by Flowers the maid, who attended in the background during breakfast to perform that duty.
'Now, my dearest Grangeby,' said Mrs Skewton, 'you must posively prom,' she cut some of her words short, and cut out others altogether, 'come down very soon.'
'I said just now, Madam,' returned Mr Dombey, loudly and laboriously, 'that I am coming in a day or two.'
'Bless you, Domber!'
Here the Major, who was come to take leave of the ladies, and who was staring through his apoplectic eyes at Mrs Skewton's face with the disinterested composure of an immortal being, said:
'Begad, Ma'am, you don't ask old Joe to come!'
'Sterious wretch, who's he?' lisped Cleopatra. But a tap on the bonnet from Flowers seeming to jog her memory, she added, 'Oh! You mean yourself, you naughty creature!'
'Devilish queer, Sir,' whispered the Major to Mr Dombey. 'Bad case. Never did wrap up enough;' the Major being buttoned to the chin. 'Why who should J. B. mean by Joe, but old Joe Bagstock - Joseph - your slave - Joe, Ma'am? Here! Here's the man! Here are the Bagstock bellows, Ma'am!' cried the Major, striking himself a sounding blow on the chest.
'My dearest Edith - Grangeby - it's most trordinry thing,' said Cleopatra, pettishly, 'that Major - '
'Bagstock! J. B.!' cried the Major, seeing that she faltered for his name.
'Well, it don't matter,' said Cleopatra. 'Edith, my love, you know I never could remember names - what was it? oh! - most trordinry thing that so many people want to come down to see me. I'm not going for long. I'm coming back. Surely they can wait, till I come back!'
Cleopatra looked all round the table as she said it, and appeared very uneasy.
'I won't have Vistors - really don't want visitors,' she said; 'little repose - and all that sort of thing - is what I quire. No odious brutes must proach me till I've shaken off this numbness;' and in a grisly resumption of her coquettish ways, she made a dab at the Major with her fan, but overset Mr Dombey's breakfast cup instead, which was in quite a different direction.
Then she called for Withers, and charged him to see particularly that word was left about some trivial alterations in her room, which must be all made before she came back, and which must be set about immediately, as there was no saying how soon she might come back; for she had a great many engagements, and all sorts of people to call upon. Withers received these directions with becoming deference, and gave his guarantee for their execution; but when he withdrew a pace or two behind her, it appeared as if he couldn't help looking strangely at the Major, who couldn't help looking strangely at Mr Dombey, who couldn't help looking strangely at Cleopatra, who couldn't help nodding her bonnet over one eye, and rattling her knife and fork upon her plate in using them, as if she were playing castanets.
Edith alone never lifted her eyes to any face at the table, and never seemed dismayed by anything her mother said or did. She listened to her disjointed talk, or at least, turned her head towards her when addressed; replied in a few low words when necessary; and sometimes stopped her when she was rambling, or brought her thoughts back with a monosyllable, to the point from which they had strayed. The mother, however unsteady in other things, was constant in this - that she was always observant of her. She would look at the beautiful face, in its marble stillness and severity, now with a kind of fearful admiration; now in a giggling foolish effort to move it to a smile; now with capricious tears and jealous shakings of her head, as imagining herself neglected by it; always with an attraction towards it, that never fluctuated like her other ideas, but had constant possession of her. From Edith she would sometimes look at Florence, and back again at Edith, in a manner that was wild enough; and sometimes she would try to look elsewhere, as if to escape from her daughter's face; but back to it she seemed forced to come, although it never sought hers unless sought, or troubled her with one single glance.
The best concluded, Mrs Skewton, affecting to lean girlishly upon the Major's arm, but heavily supported on the other side by Flowers the maid, and propped up behind by Withers the page, was conducted to the carriage, which was to take her, Florence, and Edith to Brighton.
'And is Joseph absolutely banished?' said the Major, thrusting in his purple face over the steps. 'Damme, Ma'am, is Cleopatra so hard-hearted as to forbid her faithful Antony Bagstock to approach the presence?'
'Go along!' said Cleopatra, 'I can't bear you. You shall see me when I come back, if you are very good.'
'Tell Joseph, he may live in hope, Ma'am,' said the Major; 'or he'll die in despair.'
Cleopatra shuddered, and leaned back. 'Edith, my dear,' she said. 'Tell him - '
'What?'
'Such dreadful words,' said Cleopatra. 'He uses such dreadful words!'
Edith signed to him to retire, gave the word to go on, and left the objectionable Major to Mr Dombey. To whom he returned, whistling.
'I'll tell you what, Sir,' said the Major, with his hands behind him, and his legs very wide asunder, 'a fair friend of ours has removed to Queer Street.'
'What do you mean, Major?' inquired Mr Dombey.
'I mean to say, Dombey,' returned the Major, 'that you'll soon be an orphan-in-law.'
Mr Dombey appeared to relish this waggish description of himself so very little, that the Major wound up with the horse's cough, as an expression of gravity.
'Damme, Sir,' said the Major, 'there is no use in disguising a fact. Joe is blunt, Sir. That's his nature. If you take old Josh at all, you take him as you find him; and a devilish rusty, old rasper, of a close-toothed, J. B. file, you do find him. Dombey,' said the Major, 'your wife's mother is on the move, Sir.'
'I fear,' returned Mr Dombey, with much philosophy, 'that Mrs Skewton is shaken.'
'Shaken, Dombey!' said the Major. 'Smashed!'
'Change, however,' pursued Mr Dombey, 'and attention, may do much yet.'
'Don't believe it, Sir,' returned the Major. 'Damme, Sir, she never wrapped up enough. If a man don't wrap up,' said the Major, taking in another button of his buff waistcoat, 'he has nothing to fall back upon. But some people will die. They will do it. Damme, they will. They're obstinate. I tell you what, Dombey, it may not be ornamental; it may not be refined; it may be rough and tough; but a little of the genuine old English Bagstock stamina, Sir, would do all the good in the world to the human breed.'
After imparting this precious piece of information, the Major, who was certainly true-blue, whatever other endowments he may have had or wanted, coming within the 'genuine old English' classification, which has never been exactly ascertained, took his lobster-eyes and his apoplexy to the club, and choked there all day.
Cleopatra, at one time fretful, at another self-complacent, sometimes awake, sometimes asleep, and at all times juvenile, reached Brighton the same night, fell to pieces as usual, and was put away in bed; where a gloomy fancy might have pictured a more potent skeleton than the maid, who should have been one, watching at the rose-coloured curtains, which were carried down to shed their bloom upon her.
It was settled in high council of medical authority that she should take a carriage airing every day, and that it was important she should get out every day, and walk if she could. Edith was ready to attend her - always ready to attend her, with the same mechanical attention and immovable beauty - and they drove out alone; for Edith had an uneasiness in the presence of Florence, now that her mother was worse, and told Florence, with a kiss, that she would rather they two went alone.
Mrs Skewton, on one particular day, was in the irresolute, exacting, jealous temper that had developed itself on her recovery from her first attack. After sitting silent in the carriage watching Edith for some time, she took her hand and kissed it passionately. The hand was neither given nor withdrawn, but simply yielded to her raising of it, and being released, dropped down again, almost as if it were insensible. At this she began to whimper and moan, and say what a mother she had been, and how she was forgotten! This she continued to do at capricious intervals, even when they had alighted: when she herself was halting along with the joint support of Withers and a stick, and Edith was walking by her side, and the carriage slowly following at a little distance.
It was a bleak, lowering, windy day, and they were out upon the Downs with nothing but a bare sweep of land between them and the sky. The mother, with a querulous satisfaction in the monotony of her complaint, was still repeating it in a low voice from time to time, and the proud form of her daughter moved beside her slowly, when there came advancing over a dark ridge before them, two other figures, which in the distance, were so like an exaggerated imitation of their own, that Edith stopped.
Almost as she stopped, the two figures stopped; and that one which to Edith's thinking was like a distorted shadow of her mother, spoke to the other, earnestly, and with a pointing hand towards them. That one seemed inclined to turn back, but the other, in which Edith recognised enough that was like herself to strike her with an unusual feeling, not quite free from fear, came on; and then they came on together.
The greater part of this observation, she made while walking towards them, for her stoppage had been momentary. Nearer observation showed her that they were poorly dressed, as wanderers about the country; that the younger woman carried knitted work or some such goods for sale; and that the old one toiled on empty-handed.
And yet, however far removed she was in dress, in dignity, in beauty, Edith could not but compare the younger woman with herself, still. It may have been that she saw upon her face some traces which she knew were lingering in her own soul, if not yet written on that index; but, as the woman came on, returning her gaze, fixing her shining eyes upon her, undoubtedly presenting something of her own air and stature, and appearing to reciprocate her own thoughts, she felt a chill creep over her, as if the day were darkening, and the wind were colder.
They had now come up. The old woman, holding out her hand importunately, stopped to beg of Mrs Skewton. The younger one stopped too, and she and Edith looked in one another's eyes.
'What is it that you have to sell?' said Edith.
'Only this,' returned the woman, holding out her wares, without looking at them. 'I sold myself long ago.'
'My Lady, don't believe her,' croaked the old woman to Mrs Skewton; 'don't believe what she says. She loves to talk like that. She's my handsome and undutiful daughter. She gives me nothing but reproaches, my Lady, for all I have done for her. Look at her now, my Lady, how she turns upon her poor old mother with her looks.'
As Mrs Skewton drew her purse out with a trembling hand, and eagerly fumbled for some money, which the other old woman greedily watched for - their heads all but touching, in their hurry and decrepitude - Edith interposed:
'I have seen you,' addressing the old woman, 'before.'
'Yes, my Lady,' with a curtsey. 'Down in Warwickshire. The morning among the trees. When you wouldn't give me nothing. But the gentleman, he give me something! Oh, bless him, bless him!' mumbled the old woman, holding up her skinny hand, and grinning frightfully at her daughter.
'It's of no use attempting to stay me, Edith!' said Mrs Skewton, angrily anticipating an objection from her. 'You know nothing about it. I won't be dissuaded. I am sure this is an excellent woman, and a good mother.'
'Yes, my Lady, yes,' chattered the old woman, holding out her avaricious hand. 'Thankee, my Lady. Lord bless you, my Lady. Sixpence more, my pretty Lady, as a good mother yourself.'
'And treated undutifully enough, too, my good old creature, sometimes, I assure you,' said Mrs Skewton, whimpering. 'There! Shake hands with me. You're a very good old creature - full of what's-his-name - and all that. You're all affection and et cetera, ain't you?'
'Oh, yes, my Lady!'
'Yes, I'm sure you are; and so's that gentlemanly creature Grangeby. I must really shake hands with you again. And now you can go, you know; and I hope,' addressing the daughter, 'that you'll show more gratitude, and natural what's-its-name, and all the rest of it - but I never remember names - for there never was a better mother than the good old creature's been to you. Come, Edith!'
As the ruin of Cleopatra tottered off whimpering, and wiping its eyes with a gingerly remembrance of rouge in their neighbourhood, the old woman hobbled another way, mumbling and counting her money. Not one word more, nor one other gesture, had been exchanged between Edith and the younger woman, but neither had removed her eyes from the other for a moment. They had remained confronted until now, when Edith, as awakening from a dream, passed slowly on.
'You're a handsome woman,' muttered her shadow, looking after her; 'but good looks won't save us. And you're a proud woman; but pride won't save us. We had need to know each other when we meet again!'
一位具有董贝先生那样性格的人，遇到一位由他树立起来反对他本人的强有力人物以后，他那专横、严厉的脾气就会温和起来；或者他所穿戴的冰冷与坚硬的高傲的盔甲，由于受到傲慢的轻蔑和反抗与它不断的碰撞，就会变得柔软一些；——这都是不合乎事物的本性的。高傲是对它本身的沉重报应的主要部分，而这种报应是高傲本身就包含着的。高傲这种性格可恶的地方在于：尊敬与迁就固然能使它邪恶的性质发展起来，但另一方面，对它苛刻的要求进行抗拒和提出异议，也同样会促进它的滋长。它本身所具有的邪恶在它的对立物中也同样能吸取生长与繁殖的力量。它从甜蜜中或从痛苦中都能获得支持和生命。不论它是受到尊敬或是遭到轻视，它总是奴役着它所统治的心胸；不论它是受到崇拜或是遭到拒绝，它总是像悲惨童话中的魔鬼一样，是一位严厉的主人。
董贝先生在与他第一位妻子之间的关系中，冷酷无情，傲慢自大，一举一动就像是一位高高在上的人物，他几乎也就是这样看待他自己的。对她来说，当她第一次看到他的时候，他是“董贝先生”，当她死去的时候，他仍然是“董贝先生”。在他们整个婚后生活中，他维护着他的崇高的身份，她则恭恭顺顺地承认它。他在他的宝座的顶端保持着他的高不可攀的地位，她则在她的最低下的等级中保持着她的卑贱渺小的地位；他的生活只受自己思想的约束，对他来说，这是何等幸福啊！他曾经想象，他第二位妻子的高傲的性格将和他自己的高傲的性格相加到一块，融合在一起，从而将更增强他崇高的气概。他曾经想象，一旦伊迪丝的高傲充当了他自己的高傲的工具的话，那么他将会比以往任何时候都更目空一切。他根本没有想到她的高傲可能反对他。而现在，他看到他在日常生活中，每迈一步，每转一个弯，它都出现在他的道路上，把它那冷酷的、对抗的、轻蔑的脸孔牢牢对着他，这时候，他的高傲非但没有在冲击下萎缩下去或垂头丧气，反而还长出了新枝，变得比过去任何时候都更集中、更强烈、更阴沉、更不高兴、更令人讨厌和更顽强不屈。
谁戴上这种盔甲还会给他自己招来另外一种沉重的报应。这种盔甲是安抚、爱情和信任所不能刺穿的！是外界一切温柔的同情所不能刺穿的，是一切信赖、一切亲热、一切温情所不能刺穿的；可是当自负受到了深深的刺戳时，它却像袒露的胸膛遇到钢铁一样容易受伤；这种令人痛苦的脓疮就在那里发炎，它是在其他创伤中不能找到的，它是在跟那种较弱的、解除武装的、被摧毁的高傲（虽然高傲本身有着披戴铠甲的手）打交道时所不能有的。
他的创伤就是这样的创伤。他在他老房间的一片寂寞中敏锐地感觉到它；他现在又开始隐居到这些房间中，度过漫长的寂寞的时光。似乎命运注定他永远是高傲和有权有势的；同时在他本应当是最强有力的时候，命运却又似乎注定他永远受到屈辱和无能为力。是谁似乎注定要来为他安排出这样的命运的呢？
是谁？是谁能够赢得他妻子的喜爱，就像她赢得他男孩的喜爱一样？当他坐在那个角落里的时候，是谁曾经向他显示过这个新的胜利？是谁一言半语就达到了他竭尽全力所不能达到的目的？是谁没有得到他的喜爱、关怀或重视，却茁壮地成长起来，出落得漂漂亮亮，而那些得到他帮助的人却已死去了呢？是谁呢，还不就是那个女孩子，在她没有母亲的幼年时代，他曾时常不安地对她看一看，同时心中怀着一种恐惧，唯恐他以后会恨她，而他的这一预感现在已经应验了，因为他•果•真是恨她了。
是的，他想恨她，而且他已经在心中种下了这种恨，尽管在他和他新婚的妻子回家来的那个难忘的夜晚，她出现在他面前时所闪耀的一些亮光有时还会在她身边游动。他现在明白，她长得美丽；他不怀疑，她优雅可爱；当她初露出成年女性的妩媚的风姿，出现在他面前时，他曾吃了一惊。可是甚至这也成为他憎恶她的理由。在他愁眉不展、有碍健康地在进行沉思的时候，他模糊地意识到他疏离了所有的人们，不很明确地想望得到他这一生所曾厌弃的东西；怀着这样的心绪，这位不幸的人对他的是非曲直作出了一幅歪曲的图画，并因此认为他厌恨她是正确的。她对他看来愈是有价值，他就愈爱对她的孝敬与顺从进行挑剔。她什么时候曾经向他表示过孝敬与顺从呢？她给谁的生活增添了光彩呢，是给他的还是给伊迪丝的？她首先向谁显示了她动人的魅力的呢，是向他还是向伊迪丝？啊，自从她出生以来，他和她从来就不像是父亲和女儿的关系！他们经常是疏远的。她到处妨碍他。现在她又结盟来反对他。正是她的美丽使那些对他执拗不屈的性格温和下来，并以一种不合常情的胜利凌辱了他。
也许在这一切当中可以听到他心胸中被唤醒了的一种感情的愤愤不平的，这种感情是由于他目前不利的处境，而她本可以使他的生活变成另外一种样子，相形之下所激发出来的（不管这种激发是多么自私）。可是他的高傲的海洋的滚滚浪涛淹没了远方的雷鸣。除了他的高傲外，他不能容忍任何东西。在他的高傲中，堆积着自相矛盾、不幸和自己造成的痛苦。怀着这样的心情，他恨她。
他的妻子以她不同的高傲竭尽全力对抗着摆布他的那个易怒的、固执的和绷着脸的恶魔。他们永远不能在一起过幸福的生活。可是没有什么能比这种蓄意的、坚决的感情争斗能使他们的生活更加不幸的了。他的高傲决心要维护他的堂堂皇皇、至高无上的地位，并强迫她承认它。她则宁肯被折磨至死，直到最后，也只能把她那傲慢的眼光向他投射过去，在眼光中平静地、不屈地流露出对他的鄙视。这就是他从伊迪丝那里所能得到的承认！他不知道，当她被迫得到和他结婚的无上光荣时，她在感情上是经历了怎样的风暴与斗争。他不知道，当她容许他称她为妻子的时候，她认为她是作出了多大的让步啊。
董贝先生准备向她表明，他是至高无上的。除了他的意志之外，不应当有别的意志。他愿意她是高傲的，但是她应当因为他而高傲，而不应当反对他而高傲。当他独自坐在那里，心情变得冷酷起来的时候，他时常听到她出去，回来，在伦敦社交界周旋，毫不关心他的喜爱或厌恶，高兴或不快；如果他是她的马夫的话，那么他也不会受到更多的注意。她的冷淡的、极度的漠不关心——他本人这一无可争辩的性格被她夺走了——比其他任何对待他的态度都更刺痛了他；他决心强迫她向他的崇高的、庄严的意志屈服。
这些思想在他脑子里已经盘旋了好久，有一天夜间，当他听到她很晚回家以后，他就走到她的房间里去找她。她独自一人，穿着华丽的服装，刚刚从她母亲房间中回来。当他见到她的时候，她脸上的表情是忧郁的、沉思的；可是当他还在门口的时候，她就觉察到他了；因为当他向她面前的镜子看了一眼的时候，他立刻看到他十分熟悉的、那皱着的眉毛和那阴沉的、漂亮的脸孔，就像在一个画框里似的。
“董贝夫人，”他走进去，说道，“请允许我跟您说几句话。”
“明天吧，”她回答道。
“没有比现在更合适的时间了，夫人，”他回答道，“您把您的地位摆错了。我一向是由我本人来选定时间，而不是让别人来给我选定时间的。我想，您还不了解我是谁，我是什么样的人，董贝夫人。”
“我想，”她回答道，“我十分清楚地了解您。”
她说这些话的时候，看着他，然后把洁白的、闪耀着金子和宝石的胳膊交叉在隆起的胸前，眼睛转向别处。
如果她在冷静、沉着的态度中不是那么漂亮，不是那么庄严的话，那么她也许就没有力量使他感觉到他处于不利的地位了；这个感觉穿透了他极度高傲的盔甲。可是她有这个力量；他敏锐地感觉到这一点。他向房间四处看了一眼，看到华丽的装饰品和奢华的服装被零乱地散放在各处，丝毫也不被珍惜——这不只是由于任性和粗心（在他看来是这样的），而是由于对贵重物品坚决的、傲慢的蔑视。这时候他愈来愈感觉到她有力量使他处于不利的地位。花冠，羽毛饰物，宝石，花边，绸缎——不论他往哪里去看，他都看到珍贵的物品被轻蔑地、毫不在乎地乱扔。甚至那结婚的礼品——钻石，也在她胸前一起一落，仿佛渴望着挣断把它们紧扣起来的、环绕着她的脖子的链子，滚到地板上，她可以践踏它们。
他感到他处境不利，也没有掩饰这一点。严肃而又生疏地处在这些鲜艳的色彩和妖娆的闪光中间，生疏而又拘束地面对着高傲的女主人（这些闪光把她那难以亲近的美貌不断重复地呈现在他的周围，就像是由镜子的许多碎片映照着似的），他感到局促不安，处境尴尬。有助于她保持蔑视一切、沉着冷静的态度的所有东西都使他烦恼。他烦恼地、生气地独自坐下来，情绪没有好转地往下说道：
“董贝夫人，我们之间很有必要达成某些谅解。您的行为并不使我感到高兴。”
她仅仅再看了他一眼，然后又转开了眼睛；可是如果她可以说上一个钟头的话，那么她也不会比这表示得更多了。
“我再说一遍，董贝夫人，您的行为并不使我感到高兴。
有一次我曾经请求您改正。我现在坚持这一点。”
“您第一次选择了一个适当的场合来责备我，先生；现在您第二次又采取了一个适当的态度和一个适当的词来责备我。您坚持！对我！”
“夫人，”董贝先生极不客气地说道，“我娶了您做我的妻子，您姓我的姓，您和我的地位和名声联系在一起。我不想说，世界上的人们普遍地认为，我们的结合使您得到光荣；但是我想说，我习惯于向我的家属和靠我赡养的人们‘坚持’我的要求。”
“照您看，我是属于哪一类人呢？”她问道。
“也许我可以认为，我的妻子应当同时属于——或者实际上就同时属于这两类人；这是她没有办法改变的，董贝夫人。”
她把眼睛转到他身上，注视着他，紧闭着颤抖的嘴唇。他看到她的胸脯在跳动，看到她的脸色骤然发红，随后又变白。这一切他能够看到，也看到了；可是他无法知道，在她内心深处正低声响着四个字，使她保持冷静；这四个字就是弗洛伦斯。
瞎了眼睛的白痴呀，正在向悬崖猛冲过去！他心里想，她在害怕他呢！
“您太挥霍了，夫人，”董贝先生说道，“您奢侈无度。您浪费了大量的金钱——或者，说得更明白些，对大多数上层社会的先生们来说，这也是大量的金钱——，来进行一种对我毫无益处、甚至根本使我不愉快的社交活动。我不得不坚持，您在所有这些方面应当有个彻底的转变。我知道，你们夫人在获得了这些命运交由你们支配的一小部分财产之后，出于新奇的心情，总爱突然走向极端。这种极端已经超过足够的地步了。我希望，格兰杰夫人曾经有过的截然不同的经验，现在会对董贝夫人有益。”
仍然是那凝神的注视，颤抖的嘴唇，跳动的胸脯，时而转红时而变白的脸孔；在她心房跳动的时候，仍然是那深沉的低声在对她呼唤：弗洛伦斯，弗洛伦斯。
当他看到她发生了这些变化的时候，他自尊自大的傲慢增长了。她过去对他的轻蔑和他刚才处境不利的感觉，跟她现在的柔顺（他以为是这样），同样促进了他傲慢情绪的滋长；它已发展到他自己难以控制的地步，超越了一切限度。好啊，谁能够长久地抗拒他的崇高的意志与愿望呢！他已下定决心要战胜她。请往下看吧！
“而且，夫人，”董贝先生用威严的命令语气说道，“还要请您清清楚楚地懂得：您应当尊敬我，服从我。在社会上的人们面前，您应当向我表示出绝对的、明显的尊敬，夫人。我习惯于这样。我有权利要求这样。总之，我愿意这样。我认为这是您对您现在享有的崇高的社会地位理所应当地作出的报答。我相信，不论是在我要求下您向我表示尊敬或是您自己有意向我表示尊敬，谁都不会感到惊奇。——对我表示尊敬！——对我表示尊敬！”他着重地补充了最后这两句话。
她一言不发。她没有任何变化。她的眼光注视着他。
“我从您母亲那里知道，董贝夫人，”董贝先生摆出长官一般自尊自大的神气，说道，“您毫无疑问已经知道了，有人建议她到布赖顿去疗养。卡克先生真好，他已经——”
她立刻发生了变化。她的脸孔和前胸发红了，仿佛那怒气冲冲的夕阳的红光已照到她身上似的。董贝先生不是没有注意到这个变化，他按他自己的看法作了解释，同时继续说下去：
“卡克先生真好，他已经到那里找到了一座房子，可以暂时居住。在你们返回伦敦的时候，我将采取一些我认为必要的、改善管理的措施。其中的一个措施就是在布赖顿雇用一位皮普钦太太，让她来当女管家（如果这件事办成功的话）；她是一位很值得尊敬的、家道破落的人；以前我曾雇佣她在我家中服务，得到我的信赖。一个像这样仅仅在名义上由董贝夫人主持的家庭，是需要有一位有能力的人来管理的。”
在他说出这些话之前，她已经改变了姿态；现在她坐在那里，依旧目不转睛地注视着他，同时把手镯在手臂上一圈一圈地转动着：并不是用女人轻轻的推碰来转动它，而是拽着它擦过光滑的皮肤，直到雪白的手臂上现出了一道红痕。
“我注意到，”董贝先生说道，“这也是我认为今天必须最后对您说的，董贝夫人，——片刻钟以前，我注意到，夫人，您听我提到卡克先生的时候，神态有些异常。那一天，我当着这位我所极为信任的经理的面，向您指出，我不满意您接待我的客人的态度；当时您反对有他在场。今后您应当撤消这种反对，夫人，应当使您习惯于今后很可能发生的许多类似的场合，除非您采取补救措施（这掌握在您手中），今后不会再引起我不满。卡克先生，”董贝先生说道，他看到他刚才提到卡克先生时在她身上引起的变化情绪之后，十分重视用这个办法来征服他的高傲的妻子；他也许十分愿意从一个新的、他感到得意的方面来向那位先生显示他的权力：“卡克先生是我极为信任的人，董贝夫人；他也很可能得到您同样程度的信任。”他过了一会儿（在这中间，他在愈益增长的傲慢情绪中，进一步肯定了他的想法），继续说道，“我希望，董贝夫人，我可能永远也不会认为有必要委托卡克先生向您转告我的任何批评或规劝，可是因为和一位我给予了我所能给予的最高荣誉的夫人为了一些鸡毛蒜皮的小事经常发生争吵，将有损于我的地位和名誉，所以在我认为有必要时，我将毫不迟疑地利用他的服务。”
“现在，”他想道，同时怀着道义上的尊严感站了起来，这时候他是一位比过去任何时候都更执拗、更听不进意见的人了，“她知道我和我的决心了。”
那只用力压着手镯的手，现在沉重地落在她的胸上，但是她仍用她那没有任何变化的脸色，平静地看着他，并用低沉的说道：
“等一等！看在上帝的分上！我必须跟您谈谈。”
为什么她在这之前没有对他说上几分钟呢？她内心发生了什么斗争，使她不能这样做呢？为什么在这之前，在她自己有力的约束下，她的脸像一尊塑像一样一动不动，既不是顺从也不是反抗，既不是喜爱也不是愤恨，既不是高傲也不是谦卑地看着他；除了锐利的注视之外，没有任何其他表情呢？
“难道我过去什么时候引诱过您向我求婚吗？难道我过去什么时候曾使用过诡计来赢得您吗？难道过去您追求我的时候，我曾经比我们婚后更迎合您了吗？难道我过去对您和现在有什么两样吗？”
“夫人，”董贝先生说道，“完全没有必要进行这种讨论。”
“难道您过去以为我爱您吗？您过去是否知道我不爱您？老兄，难道您曾关心过我的心，您曾打算赢得这毫无价值的东西吗？难道在我们的交易中有过任何这种可怜的借口吗？是在您那一边有过还是在我这一边有过？”
“这些问题，”董贝先生说道，“跟我的用意离得太远了，夫人。”
她走到他与门的中间，使他走不出去，又把她那威严的身子挺得笔直，依旧目不转睛地注视着他。
“请您回答每一个问题。我看得出，在我提出这些问题之前，您已经回答了。您怎么能不这样做呢？您对这不幸的真情了解得跟我一样清楚。现在，请告诉我，如果我过去热诚地爱过您，那么，我除了像您刚才所要求的那样，把我的全部意志和我整个人都奉献给您之外，我还能再做些什么呢？如果我过去的心是纯洁的、一尘不染的，您是它崇拜的偶像，那么您还能比刚才要求更多的东西吗，还能得到更多的东西吗？”
“也许不能，夫人，”他冷淡地回答道。
“您知道我完全不是那样。您现在看到我看着您，您可以从我脸上的表情判断出我对您感情的热度。”在她说这些话的时候，高傲的嘴唇没有一点颤动，乌黑的眼睛没有闪过一点亮光，眼光仍然像刚才一样专注。“您知道我的历史的大概情况。您说到了我的母亲。难道您以为您能贬低我，压服我，毁损我，强迫我屈服与顺从吗？”
董贝先生就像有人问他能不能筹集一万英镑时他会微笑的那样，微笑了一下。
“如果这里有什么不寻常的东西，”她轻轻地把手在眼前挥了挥，继续说道；她的眼睛仍然一动不动、毫无表情地注视着，没有片刻畏缩过，“正像我知道的那样，这里有些不寻常的感情，”她把压在胸前的手举起来，又沉重地落回到胸前，“那么就请体谅：在我将要向您提出的请求中有某些不寻常的意义。是的，”她说道，好像是在迅速回答他脸上出现的某些表情，“我将要向您提出请求。”
董贝先生带着几分宽厚的表情把下巴低下一点，他的硬挺的领带因此就发出沙沙的、劈劈拍拍的声响；在这同时，他在近旁的沙发上坐下，听她提出的请求。
“我是这样一种性格的人，”他觉得他看到在她眼中闪耀着泪水；虽然没有一滴流下到脸颊上，她仍像刚才一样一动不动地注视着他，可是他却得意地想到，这泪水是他使她涌出来的，“这一点连我自己也难以相信，我对成为我丈夫的任何人（特别是对您）说了的话，我是决心照办的；如果您现在能相信这一点，那么您也许会对我说的话重视一些。我们正在走向一个可能来临的结局，它不仅将影响到我们自己（这一点倒并不重要），而且还将影响到其他人。”
其他人！他知道这是指谁，于是深深地皱着眉头。
“我是为了其他人的缘故，也是为了您本人和我自己的缘故，对您说话的。我们结婚以来，您傲慢地对待我，我也以同样的态度回敬了您。您每天每个小时问我，并向我们周围的每一个人显示：您认为您跟我结婚使我得到了荣誉，提高了地位。我并不认为是这样，而且也把这一点显示了出来。您似乎并不了解或作出这样的打算（因为这是属于您的权力范围以内的事）：我们每个人应当各走各的路；相反的，您希望我对您俯首听命，而这是您永远也得不到的。”
虽然她脸上的表情丝毫没有变化，可是当她换气的时候，这“永远”两个字是加强了语气、有力地说出来的。
“我对您没有任何亲切的感情；这您是知道的。如果我曾经怀有或者能够怀有这样的感情的话，那么您也根本不会放在心上。我同样清楚地知道，您对我也没有任何这种亲切的感情。可是我们结合在一起了，而且我已经说过，把我们联系在一起的纽结，把其他人也拴进来了。我们两人迟早都将死去；我们两人都早已跟死去的人联系着，每个人都失去了一个小男孩。让我们相互宽容吧。”
董贝先生深深地吸了一口气，仿佛要想说：“唔！这就是所有您要说的话吗？”
“世界上任何财富，”她继续说道；当她望着他的时候，她的脸色比先前更苍白一些，但由于她说得十分恳切，她的眼睛却比先前更有光泽，“也不能把我的这些话和其中的含意收买走。如果一旦把它们当作无聊的闲话丢弃不理的话，那么任何财富或权力也不能把它们取回来。我是正正经经说这些话，不是开玩笑；每一句话我都斟酌过；我答应要做的事，我将认真执行。如果您答应您在您那一方面容忍的话，那么我就答应我在我这一方面容忍。我们是最不幸福的一对；在我们这里，由于各种不同的原因，一切为婚姻赞美或辩护的感情都已根本不存在了。可是，随着时间的推移，我们相互间可能会产生一些友谊或能够相互适应；如果您也同样作出努力的话，那么我将设法努力，希望能达到这个目的；我期望我今后的岁月将比我青年或壮年时代过得美好一些和幸福一些。”
她自始至终是用低沉的、平静的声调说的，既没有升高，也没有降低；她曾经把手按在胸前，以便竭力保持冷静，把话说清楚；在停止说话的时候她把手放下，可是她那一直在注视着他的眼睛却并没有低垂下来。
“夫人，”董贝先生露出极为尊严的神情，说道，“我不能接受这异乎寻常的建议。”
她依旧看着他，表情没有任何变化。
“我的意见和愿望您已经知道了，”董贝先生站起来，说道，“我不能在这个问题上跟您妥协或谈判，董贝夫人。我已向您陈述了我的最后要求，夫人；我只请求您十分认真地注意它。”
他看到，她的脸上恢复了过去的、但更为强烈的表情！他看到，她的眼睛低垂下去，像是要避开什么卑劣的、讨厌的东西似的！他看到，那高傲的前额又闪耀着亮光！他看到，轻蔑，气恼，愤慨和憎恶的表情又呈现在眼前；那苍白的、平静的、恳切的表情已像雾一般地消散了！他不能做别的，只能看着这一切，虽然是惊愕地看着。
“走，先生！”她不容违抗地用手指着门，说道，“我们第一次，也是最后一次开诚布公的谈话到此结束了。从今以后，没有什么能使我们比现在更互不相干的了。”
“您可以相信，”董贝先生说道，“我将按照我的正确方针行事，不论什么慷慨激昂的演说也不能阻止它。”
她转过身子，背对着他，没有答话，坐在镜子前面。
“夫人，我把希望寄托在您能更清楚地认识您的责任，能更正确地掌握您的感情，能更慎重地进行思考，”董贝先生说道。
她一句话也不回答。他从镜子中她脸上的表情中看到，她丝毫也不注意他，就好像他是没有被她看到的墙上的一只蜘蛛或地板上的一只甲虫，或者说得更正确一些，就好像他是当她刚才转过身子的时候，被她踩死的一只蜘蛛或甲虫，然后被她当作地面上的一个讨厌的死了的害虫给忘记了。
当他往外走到门口的时候，他回过头来，看到灯光明亮的、豪华的房间，处处陈列着的闪闪发亮的物品，穿着华丽服装、坐在镜子前面的伊迪丝的身形，以及伊迪丝的映照在镜子中的脸孔。然后，他走到那间他一直来在里面沉思的老房间里，心中带走了所有这些事物的鲜明的图景，同时产生了一种随意的、莫名其妙的想法（就像有时会在人们头脑中产生的那样）：当他下一次看到它们的时候，它们将会是什么样子？
至于说到其他情况，那么可以说，董贝先生十分沉默寡言，十分威严，十分自信他能达到他的目的；他一直保持着这种神态。
他不打算陪伴他的家属到布赖顿去。但一、两天以后，在她们就要离别的那一天早上吃早饭的时候，他很有礼貌地告诉克利奥佩特拉，他准备不久就到那里去。把克利奥佩特拉送到有益于
Chapter 41
New Voices in the Waves

All is going on as it was wont. The waves are hoarse with repetition of their mystery; the dust lies piled upon the shore; the sea-birds soar and hover; the winds and clouds go forth upon their trackless flight; the white arms beckon, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away.
With a tender melancholy pleasure, Florence finds herself again on the old ground so sadly trodden, yet so happily, and thinks of him in the quiet place, where he and she have many and many a time conversed together, with the water welling up about his couch. And now, as she sits pensive there, she hears in the wild low murmur of the sea, his little story told again, his very words repeated; and finds that all her life and hopes, and griefs, since - in the solitary house, and in the pageant it has changed to - have a portion in the burden of the marvellous song.
And gentle Mr Toots, who wanders at a distance, looking wistfully towards the figure that he dotes upon, and has followed there, but cannot in his delicacy disturb at such a time, likewise hears the requiem of little Dombey on the waters, rising and falling in the lulls of their eternal madrigal in praise of Florence. Yes! and he faintly understands, poor Mr Toots, that they are saying something of a time when he was sensible of being brighter and not addle-brained; and the tears rising in his eyes when he fears that he is dull and stupid now, and good for little but to be laughed at, diminish his satisfaction in their soothing reminder that he is relieved from present responsibility to the Chicken, by the absence of that game head of poultry in the country, training (at Toots's cost) for his great mill with the Larkey Boy.
But Mr Toots takes courage, when they whisper a kind thought to him; and by slow degrees and with many indecisive stoppages on the way, approaches Florence. Stammering and blushing, Mr Toots affects amazement when he comes near her, and says (having followed close on the carriage in which she travelled, every inch of the way from London, loving even to be choked by the dust of its wheels) that he never was so surprised in all his life.
'And you've brought Diogenes, too, Miss Dombey!' says Mr Toots, thrilled through and through by the touch of the small hand so pleasantly and frankly given him.
No doubt Diogenes is there, and no doubt Mr Toots has reason to observe him, for he comes straightway at Mr Toots's legs, and tumbles over himself in the desperation with which he makes at him, like a very dog of Montargis. But he is checked by his sweet mistress.
'Down, Di, down. Don't you remember who first made us friends, Di? For shame!'
Oh! Well may Di lay his loving cheek against her hand, and run off, and run back, and run round her, barking, and run headlong at anybody coming by, to show his devotion. Mr Toots would run headlong at anybody, too. A military gentleman goes past, and Mr Toots would like nothing better than to run at him, full tilt.
'Diogenes is quite in his native air, isn't he, Miss Dombey?' says Mr Toots.
Florence assents, with a grateful smile.
'Miss Dombey,' says Mr Toots, 'beg your pardon, but if you would like to walk to Blimber's, I - I'm going there.'
Florence puts her arm in that of Mr Toots without a word, and they walk away together, with Diogenes going on before. Mr Toots's legs shake under him; and though he is splendidly dressed, he feels misfits, and sees wrinkles, in the masterpieces of Burgess and Co., and wishes he had put on that brightest pair of boots.
Doctor Blimber's house, outside, has as scholastic and studious an air as ever; and up there is the window where she used to look for the pale face, and where the pale face brightened when it saw her, and the wasted little hand waved kisses as she passed. The door is opened by the same weak-eyed young man, whose imbecility of grin at sight of Mr Toots is feebleness of character personified. They are shown into the Doctor's study, where blind Homer and Minerva give them audience as of yore, to the sober ticking of the great clock in the hall; and where the globes stand still in their accustomed places, as if the world were stationary too, and nothing in it ever perished in obedience to the universal law, that, while it keeps it on the roll, calls everything to earth.
And here is Doctor Blimber, with his learned legs; and here is Mrs Blimber, with her sky-blue cap; and here Cornelia, with her sandy little row of curls, and her bright spectacles, still working like a sexton in the graves of languages. Here is the table upon which he sat forlorn and strange, the 'new boy' of the school; and hither comes the distant cooing of the old boys, at their old lives in the old room on the old principle!
'Toots,' says Doctor Blimber, 'I am very glad to see you, Toots.'
Mr Toots chuckles in reply.
'Also to see you, Toots, in such good company,' says Doctor Blimber.
Mr Toots, with a scarlet visage, explains that he has met Miss Dombey by accident, and that Miss Dombey wishing, like himself, to see the old place, they have come together.
'You will like,' says Doctor Blimber, 'to step among our young friends, Miss Dombey, no doubt. All fellow-students of yours, Toots, once. I think we have no new disciples in our little portico, my dear,' says Doctor Blimber to Cornelia, 'since Mr Toots left us.'
'Except Bitherstone,' returns Cornelia.
'Ay, truly,' says the Doctor. 'Bitherstone is new to Mr Toots.'
New to Florence, too, almost; for, in the schoolroom, Bitherstone - no longer Master Bitherstone of Mrs Pipchin's - shows in collars and a neckcloth, and wears a watch. But Bitherstone, born beneath some Bengal star of ill-omen, is extremely inky; and his Lexicon has got so dropsical from constant reference, that it won't shut, and yawns as if it really could not bear to be so bothered. So does Bitherstone its master, forced at Doctor Blimber's highest pressure; but in the yawn of Bitherstone there is malice and snarl, and he has been heard to say that he wishes he could catch 'old Blimber' in India. He'd precious soon find himself carried up the country by a few of his (Bitherstone's) Coolies, and handed over to the Thugs; he can tell him that.
Briggs is still grinding in the mill of knowledge; and Tozer, too; and Johnson, too; and all the rest; the older pupils being principally engaged in forgetting, with prodigious labour, everything they knew when they were younger. All are as polite and as pale as ever; and among them, Mr Feeder, B.A., with his bony hand and bristly head, is still hard at it; with his Herodotus stop on just at present, and his other barrels on a shelf behind him.
A mighty sensation is created, even among these grave young gentlemen, by a visit from the emancipated Toots; who is regarded with a kind of awe, as one who has passed the Rubicon, and is pledged never to come back, and concerning the cut of whose clothes, and fashion of whose jewellery, whispers go about, behind hands; the bilious Bitherstone, who is not of Mr Toots's time, affecting to despise the latter to the smaller boys, and saying he knows better, and that he should like to see him coming that sort of thing in Bengal, where his mother had got an emerald belonging to him that was taken out of the footstool of a Rajah. Come now!
Bewildering emotions are awakened also by the sight of Florence, with whom every young gentleman immediately falls in love, again; except, as aforesaid, the bilious Bitherstone, who declines to do so, out of contradiction. Black jealousies of Mr Toots arise, and Briggs is of opinion that he ain't so very old after all. But this disparaging insinuation is speedily made nought by Mr Toots saying aloud to Mr Feeder, B.A., 'How are you, Feeder?' and asking him to come and dine with him to-day at the Bedford; in right of which feats he might set up as Old Parr, if he chose, unquestioned.
There is much shaking of hands, and much bowing, and a great desire on the part of each young gentleman to take Toots down in Miss Dombey's good graces; and then, Mr Toots having bestowed a chuckle on his old desk, Florence and he withdraw with Mrs Blimber and Cornelia; and Doctor Blimber is heard to observe behind them as he comes out last, and shuts the door, 'Gentlemen, we will now resume our studies,' For that and little else is what the Doctor hears the sea say, or has heard it saying all his life.
Florence then steals away and goes upstairs to the old bedroom with Mrs Blimber and Cornelia; Mr Toots, who feels that neither he nor anybody else is wanted there, stands talking to the Doctor at the study-door, or rather hearing the Doctor talk to him, and wondering how he ever thought the study a great sanctuary, and the Doctor, with his round turned legs, like a clerical pianoforte, an awful man. Florence soon comes down and takes leave; Mr Toots takes leave; and Diogenes, who has been worrying the weak-eyed young man pitilessly all the time, shoots out at the door, and barks a glad defiance down the cliff; while Melia, and another of the Doctor's female domestics, looks out of an upper window, laughing 'at that there Toots,' and saying of Miss Dombey, 'But really though, now - ain't she like her brother, only prettier?'
Mr Toots, who saw when Florence came down that there were tears upon her face, is desperately anxious and uneasy, and at first fears that he did wrong in proposing the visit. But he is soon relieved by her saying she is very glad to have been there again, and by her talking quite cheerfully about it all, as they walked on by the sea. What with the voices there, and her sweet voice, when they come near Mr Dombey's house, and Mr Toots must leave her, he is so enslaved that he has not a scrap of free-will left; when she gives him her hand at parting, he cannot let it go.
'Miss Dombey, I beg your pardon,' says Mr Toots, in a sad fluster, 'but if you would allow me to - to -
The smiling and unconscious look of Florence brings him to a dead stop.
'If you would allow me to - if you would not consider it a liberty, Miss Dombey, if I was to - without any encouragement at all, if I was to hope, you know,' says Mr Toots.
Florence looks at him inquiringly.
'Miss Dombey,' says Mr Toots, who feels that he is in for it now, 'I really am in that state of adoration of you that I don't know what to do with myself. I am the most deplorable wretch. If it wasn't at the corner of the Square at present, I should go down on my knees, and beg and entreat of you, without any encouragement at all, just to let me hope that I may - may think it possible that you -
'Oh, if you please, don't!' cries Florence, for the moment quite alarmed and distressed. 'Oh, pray don't, Mr Toots. Stop, if you please. Don't say any more. As a kindness and a favour to me, don't.'
Mr Toots is dreadfully abashed, and his mouth opens.
'You have been so good to me,' says Florence, 'I am so grateful to you, I have such reason to like you for being a kind friend to me, and I do like you so much;' and here the ingenuous face smiles upon him with the pleasantest look of honesty in the world; 'that I am sure you are only going to say good-bye!'
'Certainly, Miss Dombey,' says Mr Toots, 'I - I - that's exactly what I mean. It's of no consequence.'
'Good-bye!' cries Florence.
'Good-bye, Miss Dombey!' stammers Mr Toots. 'I hope you won't think anything about it. It's - it's of no consequence, thank you. It's not of the least consequence in the world.'
Poor Mr Toots goes home to his hotel in a state of desperation, locks himself into his bedroom, flings himself upon his bed, and lies there for a long time; as if it were of the greatest consequence, nevertheless. But Mr Feeder, B.A., is coming to dinner, which happens well for Mr Toots, or there is no knowing when he might get up again. Mr Toots is obliged to get up to receive him, and to give him hospitable entertainment.
And the generous influence of that social virtue, hospitality (to make no mention of wine and good cheer), opens Mr Toots's heart, and warms him to conversation. He does not tell Mr Feeder, B.A., what passed at the corner of the Square; but when Mr Feeder asks him 'When it is to come off?' Mr Toots replies, 'that there are certain subjects' - which brings Mr Feeder down a peg or two immediately. Mr Toots adds, that he don't know what right Blimber had to notice his being in Miss Dombey's company, and that if he thought he meant impudence by it, he'd have him out, Doctor or no Doctor; but he supposes its only his ignorance. Mr Feeder says he has no doubt of it.
Mr Feeder, however, as an intimate friend, is not excluded from the subject. Mr Toots merely requires that it should be mentioned mysteriously, and with feeling. After a few glasses of wine, he gives Miss Dombey's health, observing, 'Feeder, you have no idea of the sentiments with which I propose that toast.' Mr Feeder replies, 'Oh, yes, I have, my dear Toots; and greatly they redound to your honour, old boy.' Mr Feeder is then agitated by friendship, and shakes hands; and says, if ever Toots wants a brother, he knows where to find him, either by post or parcel. Mr Feeder like-wise says, that if he may advise, he would recommend Mr Toots to learn the guitar, or, at least the flute; for women like music, when you are paying your addresses to 'em, and he has found the advantage of it himself.
This brings Mr Feeder, B.A., to the confession that he has his eye upon Cornelia Blimber. He informs Mr Toots that he don't object to spectacles, and that if the Doctor were to do the handsome thing and give up the business, why, there they are - provided for. He says it's his opinion that when a man has made a handsome sum by his business, he is bound to give it up; and that Cornelia would be an assistance in it which any man might be proud of. Mr Toots replies by launching wildly out into Miss Dombey's praises, and by insinuations that sometimes he thinks he should like to blow his brains out. Mr Feeder strongly urges that it would be a rash attempt, and shows him, as a reconcilement to existence, Cornelia's portrait, spectacles and all.
Thus these quiet spirits pass the evening; and when it has yielded place to night, Mr Toots walks home with Mr Feeder, and parts with him at Doctor Blimber's door. But Mr Feeder only goes up the steps, and when Mr Toots is gone, comes down again, to stroll upon the beach alone, and think about his prospects. Mr Feeder plainly hears the waves informing him, as he loiters along, that Doctor Blimber will give up the business; and he feels a soft romantic pleasure in looking at the outside of the house, and thinking that the Doctor will first paint it, and put it into thorough repair.
Mr Toots is likewise roaming up and down, outside the casket that contains his jewel; and in a deplorable condition of mind, and not unsuspected by the police, gazes at a window where he sees a light, and which he has no doubt is Florence's. But it is not, for that is Mrs Skewton's room; and while Florence, sleeping in another chamber, dreams lovingly, in the midst of the old scenes, and their old associations live again, the figure which in grim reality is substituted for the patient boy's on the same theatre, once more to connect it - but how differently! - with decay and death, is stretched there, wakeful and complaining. Ugly and haggard it lies upon its bed of unrest; and by it, in the terror of her unimpassioned loveliness - for it has terror in the sufferer's failing eyes - sits Edith. What do the waves say, in the stillness of the night, to them?
'Edith, what is that stone arm raised to strike me? Don't you see it?'
There is nothing, mother, but your fancy.'
'But my fancy! Everything is my fancy. Look! Is it possible that you don't see it?'
'Indeed, mother, there is nothing. Should I sit unmoved, if there were any such thing there?'
'Unmoved?' looking wildly at her - 'it's gone now - and why are you so unmoved? That is not my fancy, Edith. It turns me cold to see you sitting at my side.'
'I am sorry, mother.'
'Sorry! You seem always sorry. But it is not for me!'
With that, she cries; and tossing her restless head from side to side upon her pillow, runs on about neglect, and the mother she has been, and the mother the good old creature was, whom they met, and the cold return the daughters of such mothers make. In the midst of her incoherence, she stops, looks at her daughter, cries out that her wits are going, and hides her face upon the bed.
Edith, in compassion, bends over her and speaks to her. The sick old woman clutches her round the neck, and says, with a look of horror,
'Edith! we are going home soon; going back. You mean that I shall go home again?'
'Yes, mother, yes.'
'And what he said - what's-his-name, I never could remember names - Major - that dreadful word, when we came away - it's not true? Edith!' with a shriek and a stare, 'it's not that that is the matter with me.'
Night after night, the lights burn in the window, and the figure lies upon the bed, and Edith sits beside it, and the restless waves are calling to them both the whole night long. Night after night, the waves are hoarse with repetition of their mystery; the dust lies piled upon the shore; the sea-birds soar and hover; the winds and clouds are on their trackless flight; the white arms beckon, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away.
And still the sick old woman looks into the corner, where the stone arm - part of a figure of some tomb, she says - is raised to strike her. At last it falls; and then a dumb old woman lies upon the the bed, and she is crooked and shrunk up, and half of her is dead.
Such is the figure, painted and patched for the sun to mock, that is drawn slowly through the crowd from day to day; looking, as it goes, for the good old creature who was such a mother, and making mouths as it peers among the crowd in vain. Such is the figure that is often wheeled down to the margin of the sea, and stationed there; but on which no wind can blow freshness, and for which the murmur of the ocean has no soothing word. She lies and listens to it by the hour; but its speech is dark and gloomy to her, and a dread is on her face, and when her eyes wander over the expanse, they see but a broad stretch of desolation between earth and heaven.
Florence she seldom sees, and when she does, is angry with and mows at. Edith is beside her always, and keeps Florence away; and Florence, in her bed at night, trembles at the thought of death in such a shape, and often wakes and listens, thinking it has come. No one attends on her but Edith. It is better that few eyes should see her; and her daughter watches alone by the bedside.
A shadow even on that shadowed face, a sharpening even of the sharpened features, and a thickening of the veil before the eyes into a pall that shuts out the dim world, is come. Her wandering hands upon the coverlet join feebly palm to palm, and move towards her daughter; and a voice not like hers, not like any voice that speaks our mortal language - says, 'For I nursed you!'
Edith, without a tear, kneels down to bring her voice closer to the sinking head, and answers:
'Mother, can you hear me?'
Staring wide, she tries to nod in answer.
'Can you recollect the night before I married?'
The head is motionless, but it expresses somehow that she does.
'I told you then that I forgave your part in it, and prayed God to forgive my own. I told you that time past was at an end between us. I say so now, again. Kiss me, mother.'
Edith touches the white lips, and for a moment all is still. A moment afterwards, her mother, with her girlish laugh, and the skeleton of the Cleopatra manner, rises in her bed.
Draw the rose-coloured curtains. There is something else upon its flight besides the wind and clouds. Draw the rose-coloured curtains close!
Intelligence of the event is sent to Mr Dombey in town, who waits upon Cousin Feenix (not yet able to make up his mind for Baden-Baden), who has just received it too. A good-natured creature like Cousin Feenix is the very man for a marriage or a funeral, and his position in the family renders it right that he should be consulted.
'Dombey,' said Cousin Feenix, 'upon my soul, I am very much shocked to see you on such a melancholy occasion. My poor aunt! She was a devilish lively woman.'
Mr Dombey replies, 'Very much so.'
'And made up,' says Cousin Feenix, 'really young, you know, considering. I am sure, on the day of your marriage, I thought she was good for another twenty years. In point of fact, I said so to a man at Brooks's - little Billy Joper - you know him, no doubt - man with a glass in his eye?'
Mr Dombey bows a negative. 'In reference to the obsequies,' he hints, 'whether there is any suggestion - '
'Well, upon my life,' says Cousin Feenix, stroking his chin, which he has just enough of hand below his wristbands to do; 'I really don't know. There's a Mausoleum down at my place, in the park, but I'm afraid it's in bad repair, and, in point of fact, in a devil of a state. But for being a little out at elbows, I should have had it put to rights; but I believe the people come and make pic-nic parties there inside the iron railings.'
Mr Dombey is clear that this won't do.
'There's an uncommon good church in the village,' says Cousin Feenix, thoughtfully; 'pure specimen of the Anglo-Norman style, and admirably well sketched too by Lady Jane Finchbury - woman with tight stays - but they've spoilt it with whitewash, I understand, and it's a long journey.
'Perhaps Brighton itself,' Mr Dombey suggests.
'Upon my honour, Dombey, I don't think we could do better,' says Cousin Feenix. 'It's on the spot, you see, and a very cheerful place.'
'And when,' hints Mr Dombey, 'would it be convenient?'
'I shall make a point,' says Cousin Feenix, 'of pledging myself for any day you think best. I shall have great pleasure (melancholy pleasure, of course) in following my poor aunt to the confines of the - in point of fact, to the grave,' says Cousin Feenix, failing in the other turn of speech.
'Would Monday do for leaving town?' says Mr Dombey.
'Monday would suit me to perfection,' replies Cousin Feenix. Therefore Mr Dombey arranges to take Cousin Feenix down on that day, and presently takes his leave, attended to the stairs by Cousin Feenix, who says, at parting, 'I'm really excessively sorry, Dombey, that you should have so much trouble about it;' to which Mr Dombey answers, 'Not at all.'
At the appointed time, Cousin Feenix and Mr Dombey meet, and go down to Brighton, and representing, in their two selves, all the other mourners for the deceased lady's loss, attend her remains to their place of rest. Cousin Feenix, sitting in the mourning-coach, recognises innumerable acquaintances on the road, but takes no other notice of them, in decorum, than checking them off aloud, as they go by, for Mr Dombey's information, as 'Tom Johnson. Man with cork leg, from White's. What, are you here, Tommy? Foley on a blood mare. The Smalder girls' - and so forth. At the ceremony Cousin Feenix is depressed, observing, that these are the occasions to make a man think, in point of fact, that he is getting shaky; and his eyes are really moistened, when it is over. But he soon recovers; and so do the rest of Mrs Skewton's relatives and friends, of whom the Major continually tells the club that she never did wrap up enough; while the young lady with the back, who has so much trouble with her eyelids, says, with a little scream, that she must have been enormously old, and that she died of all kinds of horrors, and you mustn't mention it.
So Edith's mother lies unmentioned of her dear friends, who are deaf to the waves that are hoarse with repetition of their mystery, and blind to the dust that is piled upon the shore, and to the white arms that are beckoning, in the moonlight, to the invisible country far away. But all goes on, as it was wont, upon the margin of the unknown sea; and Edith standing there alone, and listening to its waves, has dank weed cast up at her feet, to strew her path in life withal.
一切都像往常一样进行着。海浪嘶哑地重复着它那神秘的语言；沙子堆积在岸上；海鸟上上下下地飞翔；风和云沿着它们不留踪迹的线路行进；白色的胳膊在月光下向远方看不见的国家打着招呼①。
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①请参见第十二章中保罗与图茨的谈话。保罗说，他看见月光下小船的船帆像银色的胳膊，似乎招呼他到它那里去。
弗洛伦斯怀着亲切的、令人伤感的喜悦，又来到了这块她过去曾经那么悲哀地、又那么幸福地走过的老地方，并在这安静的地方想念着他；他和她曾经好多次、好多次在这里一起交谈，海浪则在他的卧床旁涌上来。现在，当她沉思地坐在这里的时候，她在大海的低沉的哗哗声中又听到了他的小故事正在被重新叙述着，他的每一句话正在被重复地讲着；她觉得，从那时以来，在那座孤独的房屋和后来变成富丽堂皇的公馆中，她所有的生活、希望和悲哀，都反映在这首奇妙的歌曲中。
性格温和的图茨先生在稍远一些的地方漫步走着，同时愁闷地向他所热爱的人儿望着；他跟随弗洛伦斯来到这里，但却由于慎重的考虑，不能在这样的时候去打扰她。他听到海浪升高、降落，永恒地唱着赞颂弗洛伦斯的小曲，但在它们有时暂停的时候，他也听到它们唱着小保罗的安魂曲。是的，可怜的图茨先生，他也模糊地听明白海浪正在叙述那段他认为他比较聪明、头脑不糊涂的时光；当他担心他现在已变得迟钝、愚笨，除了供人取笑外，毫无其他用处的时候，他眼中涌出了泪水；海浪安慰地提醒他：由于那位全国家禽中英勇善斗的首领不在这里，而正在与拉基•博伊进行伟大的竞赛而从事训练（由图茨负担费用），因此图茨先生现在已摆脱了对斗鸡所负的责任；这一点使图茨先生感到高兴，可是涌出的泪水却使他的高兴减弱了。
然而当海浪向他低声诉说着充满柔情的思想的时候，图茨先生又把勇气鼓起来了；他慢慢地、慢慢地向弗洛伦斯身边走过去，在途中犹豫不决地停下很多次。当他走到她的身旁时，图茨先生结结巴巴，脸孔涨得通红，假装出惊异的样子，说，他这一辈子从来没有像现在这样感到惊奇过；其实，从伦敦开始，他就每一英寸都在紧紧跟随着她乘坐的马车；甚至车轮扬起的灰尘使他喘不过气来，他还感到十分高兴。
“您把戴奥吉尼斯也带来了，董贝小姐！”图茨先生说道；当那小手愉快地、坦诚地向他伸过来、接触到他时，他感到全身一阵阵震颤。
毫无疑问，戴奥吉尼斯是在这里；毫无疑问，图茨先生有理由注意到他，因为他向着图茨先生的腿直冲过来，像蒙塔吉斯的狗①一样，在向他奋不顾身地扑过去的时候，在地上翻滚着，但是他被他的女主人制止了。
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①蒙塔吉斯的狗（averydogofMontargis）：根据法国传说，十四世纪时，一位名叫奥伯里•德•蒙塔吉斯的骑士和他的狗在森林中漫游时，被理查德•德•马克打死。除了这条狗外，其他任何人也没有见到过这位凶手。从那时起，这条狗一见到这个凶手，就愤怒地吠叫；由于顽强追逐的结果，罪犯终于被破获。根据国王的命令，狗与马克进行决斗，结果凶手死去。
“伏下，戴，伏下！难道你忘记了，最初是谁使我们成为朋友的，戴？真丢脸！”
啊，戴真幸福啊，他可以把他的腮帮子亲热地贴着她的手，然后跑开，又跑回来，然后围绕着她跑，一边吠叫着，并向任何路过的人冲过去，显示他的忠诚。图茨先生也真想能头向前地向任何路过的人冲过去。一位军人走过去了，图茨先生真想拼命地向他追扑过去。
“戴奥吉尼斯现在呼吸到他家乡的空气了，是不是，董贝小姐？”图茨先生说道。
弗洛伦斯微笑着，表示同意。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生说道，“请原谅，如果您愿意散步到布林伯学校去的话，那么我——我现在到那里去。”
弗洛伦斯没有说话，挽着图茨先生的手，两人一起上了路，戴奥吉尼斯在前面跑着。图茨先生两只腿颤抖着；虽然他穿得漂漂亮亮的，可是他仍觉得服装不合适，并在伯吉斯公司精心缝制的产品中看到了皱痕；他很后悔不曾穿上他那双最亮的靴子。
布林伯博士的房屋外面仍像过去一样保持着学校的、研究学问的气派，上面还是那个窗子：她过去经常向那里寻找那张苍白的脸孔，那张苍白的脸孔看到她的时候就在那里露出喜色；当她走过的时候，那只消瘦的小手就在那里向他挥送着飞吻。门还是由那位弱视的年轻人开的；他看到图茨先生的时候，咧着嘴傻乎乎地笑着，这是他智力低下的表现。他们被领到博士的书房中；盲诗人荷马和米涅瓦像过去一样，在前厅大钟沉着冷静的滴嗒声中，在那里接见了他们；地球仪仍竖立在先前的位置上，仿佛整个世界也是静止的；世界上没有任何东西遵从普遍规律的作用而消亡；本来按照这一规律，当地球转动的时候，一切东西都是要化为尘土的。
布林伯博士跨着有学问的两腿，在书房里；布林伯夫人戴着天蓝色的帽子，也在这里；还有科妮莉亚也在这里，她梳着沙色的短小的卷发，戴着明亮的眼镜，仍像主管墓地的教堂司事一样，在语言的坟墓中工作着。那张他曾经让这个学校的“新孩子”可怜而陌生地坐着的桌子也仍旧摆在这里；那些原先的孩子们，遵循与过去同样的方针，在与过去同样的房间里，过着与过去同样的生活，他们轻微的正从远处传进书房里来。
“图茨，”布林伯博士说，“我很高兴看到您，图茨。”
图茨先生吃吃地笑了一下，作为回答。
“而且有这样好的伴侣，图茨：”布林伯博士说道。
图茨先生脸孔涨得通红，解释说，他是在无意间遇见了董贝小姐；董贝小姐像他本人一样，也想来看看老地方，所以他们就一起来了。
“当然，您一定会高兴在我们这些年轻的朋友中间走走的，董贝小姐，”布林伯博士说道，“他们都是您过去的同学，图茨。亲爱的，”布林伯博士转向科妮莉亚说道，“我想，从图茨先生离开我们以后，在我们这个小小的门廊里，我们没有再招收新的学生了吧？”
“只招收了比瑟斯通一个人。”科妮莉亚回答道。
“对了，一点不错，”博士说道，“对图茨先生来说，比瑟斯通是个新人。”
对弗洛伦斯来说，比瑟斯通几乎也是个新人，因为比瑟斯通不再是皮普钦太太寄宿学校里的比瑟斯通少爷了；他现在在教室里炫示着他的硬领和领饰，还戴了一块手表。但是比瑟斯通是在某个不吉祥的孟加拉星辰照耀下出生的，全身沾满了墨迹；他的词典由于经常翻查，浮肿得不想合上，而且困倦地打着呵欠，仿佛确实容忍不了这样经常的烦扰了。它的主人比瑟斯通在布林伯博士的高压下也同样打着呵欠；不过在比瑟斯通的呵欠中有着怨恨和怒气；人们听他说过，他希望能在印度把“老布林伯”逮住；老布林伯将很快就会发现自己被比瑟斯通的几个小工拖到这个国家的边远地区，交给谋杀教团①的团员们；他可以这样告诉他。
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①谋杀教团：印度旧时，因崇拜破坏女神，以杀人抢劫为业的宗教组织。
布里格斯依旧在知识磨坊中推着磨；托泽也是这样；约翰逊也是这样；所有其他的人也都是这样；年纪大一些的学生们所从事的，主要是通过勤奋的努力，把他们在年纪较小的时候所学到的一切东西给忘记掉。所有的人都跟过去一样彬彬有礼，脸色跟过去一样苍白；在他们中间，文学士菲德先生，手瘦得皮包骨头，头上密生着硬发，依旧像过去一样用功，这时候他刚刚正在教赫罗多德①的著作，由他这个人为手摇风琴演奏的其他曲谱放在他后面的一个搁架上。
解放了的图茨前来访问，这件事甚至在那些态度沉着的年轻先生们中间也引起了巨大的哄动。他们敬仰地看着他，就像他是渡过卢比孔河，发誓永不回来的一位英雄一样②。大家在背地里嘁嘁喳喳地议论着他的服装剪裁的式样和珠宝饰物的时新款式；可是爱发脾气的比瑟斯通（他不是图茨先生时期的人）却在较小的孩子面前装出看不起图茨先生的样子，说，他见识得更多，他真愿意在孟加拉见到图茨先生；他母亲在孟加拉有一块纯绿宝石，是属于他的，那是从印度王侯宝座脚底中取出来的；哎呀，那才了不起呢！看到了弗洛伦斯，这些年轻人在感情上也引起了极大的波动，每一位年轻的先生都立刻爱上了她，又是只有上面提到的爱发脾气的比瑟斯通一人例外；他出于反抗心，拒绝这样做。大家对图茨先生产生了恶意的妒嫉。布里格斯认为，图茨先生毕竟年纪还不算很老；可是这个贬损性的暗讽立即被图茨先生挡架住，使它不起作用；他大声对文学士菲德先生说，“您好，菲德！”，并邀请他今天在贝德福德旅馆去跟他一起吃晚饭；由于他成功地采取了这巧妙的一招，如果他愿意的话，那么他很可以自称为久经世事磨练的老手，没有人会提出异议的。
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①赫罗多德（Herodutus）（公元前484？——425年）：公元前五世纪希腊历史学家，有历史之父之称。
②卢比孔（Rubicon）河，是意大利中部的一条河流。古罗马将军凯撒（JuliusCae－sar，公元前100——40年）如要渡过此河，必和掌握罗马政府大权的庞培（PompeytheGreat，公元前106—48年，罗马将军）一战，因此渡过卢比孔河是指采取断然手段，下了重大决心的行动。凯撒就是在说着“骰子已经掷下了”之后，前去渡过这条河的。
好多的握手，好多的鞠躬，每位年轻的先生都极想消除弗洛伦斯小姐对图茨先生的宠爱；接着，图茨先生对他旧日的课桌吃吃地笑了一声，作为问候；然后弗洛伦斯与他，并和布林伯夫人与科妮莉亚一起离开了；当布林伯博士最后走出来，并把门关上的时候，他们听到他说道，“各位先生，现在我们将重新开始我们的学习。”因为博士听到大海所说的，或者他这一辈子听到它所说的，就是这一句话，没有别的话了。
然后，弗洛伦斯悄悄地走开，跟布林伯夫人和科妮莉亚一起上楼到过去那间寝室里；图茨先生感到不需要他或其他人到那里去，就站在书房门口跟博士谈话，或者更确切地说，听博士对他说话；他感到奇怪，他过去怎么曾把这个书房看成是一座伟大的神殿，并把博士看成是一位令人敬畏的人；他那圆圆的、向里弯曲的腿就像是教堂里的钢琴一般。弗洛伦斯不久从楼上下来，告别了；图茨先生告别了；戴奥吉尼斯这段时间一直在无情地想咬那位弱视的年轻人，这时冲向门口，高兴地、挑衅地吠叫着，并沿着断崖飞跑下去；而这时候梅莉亚和博士的另一位女仆则从楼上的一个窗口往外望，对着“那里那位图茨”大笑着，同时谈到董贝小姐，说，“不过说真的，她不是很像她弟弟吗，只是更漂亮一些！”
当弗洛伦斯下楼来的时候，图茨先生看到她脸上挂着眼泪，感到非常焦虑不安，起初他担心他建议进行这次访问是不是错了。可是他不久就放下心，因为当他们沿着海滨向前走去的时候，她说她很高兴又到这里来，而且很高兴地谈着这次访问。当他们在海浪的和她那可爱的的伴随下，走近董贝先生的房屋，图茨先生必须离开她的时候，他已经完全成了她的奴隶，一星半点自由的意志也没剩下了；当她告别时向他伸出手来时，他怎么也放不开它。
“董贝小姐，请原谅，”图茨先生悲伤而慌乱地说道，“不过如果您肯允许我——”
弗洛伦斯的微笑的、天真无邪的神色使他立刻完全停住，讲不下去了。
“如果您肯允许我——如果您不认为这是放肆的话，董贝小姐，如果我能——在没有得到任何鼓励下，如果我能希望，您知道，”图茨先生说道。
弗洛伦斯诧异地看着他。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生觉得他现在已经欲罢不能，只有鼓着勇气说下去了，“说实话，我爱慕您到了这样的地步，我真不知道没有您我自己一个人该怎么办。我是个最可怜最不幸的人。如果我们现在不是站在广场的角落里的话，那么我就一定跪下去，哀求您，恳请您，在没有得到您的任何鼓励下，仅仅给我一个希望：我可以——可以认为这是可能的，就是您——”
“啊，请您别这样！”弗洛伦斯感到相当惊慌和苦恼，喊道，“啊，请您别这样，图茨先生！请别说了。什么也别说了。
就把这作为您对我的好意和恩惠吧，请别说了。”
图茨先生张着嘴巴，羞愧得不得了。
“您一直来对我很好，”弗洛伦斯说道，“我十分感谢您，我有充分的理由喜欢您做我的一个好朋友，我的确是很喜欢您；”这时那张天真的脸向他浮现出世界上最愉快、最真诚的微笑，“我相信，您只不过是想对我说一声再见罢了。”
“当然，董贝小姐，”图茨先生说道，“我——我——这正是我想要说的。这无关紧要。”
“再见！”弗洛伦斯喊道。
“再见，董贝小姐！”图茨先生结结巴巴地说道，“我希望您别去想这件事。它是——它是无关紧要的，谢谢您。它是世界上最最无关紧要的事情。”
可怜的图茨先生怀着绝望的心情回到旅馆里，把自己锁在卧室中，猛倒在床上，长久地躺在那里，仿佛这毕竟不是一件无关紧要，而是最最重要的事情。可是文学士菲德先生来吃晚饭了，这对图茨先生倒是一件好事，要不然，真不知道他什么时候才会起床呢。图茨先生不得不起来会见他，并热情地款待他。
热情好客这个社会美德（不用提酒和丰盛的菜肴了）打开了图茨先生的心境，给了他温暖，使他开始交谈起来。他没有把广场角落里发生的事情告诉文学士菲德先生，但是当菲德先生问他“这事什么时候完成”时，图茨先生回答道，“有些话题——”，这就立即使菲德先生不能再追问下去。图茨先生还说，他不知道布林伯有什么权利注意到他是在董贝小姐陪伴下同去的；如果他认为布林伯这样说是有意冒失无礼的话，那么他就会老实不客气地指责他，不管他是不是博士；不过他想那只不过是布林伯不明真情罢了；菲德先生说，他对这点毫不怀疑。
不过，菲德先生是一位知心朋友，可以无所不谈，这个话题也不除外。图茨先生只要求神秘地、带着感情地谈。喝了几杯酒之后，他建议为董贝小姐的健康干杯，说道，“菲德，您根本想不到我是怀着一种什么感情建议为她祝酒的。”菲德先生回答道，“不，不，我想得到，我亲爱的图茨，这种感情大大地提高了您的荣誉呵，我的老同学。”这时候，菲德先生被友谊所激动，跟图茨先生握着手，说，如果图茨什么时候需要一个兄弟的话，那么他知道到什么地方去找他的。菲德先生还说，如果他可以劝告的话，那么他将建议图茨先生学习弹奏吉他，至少学习吹笛子，因为当您向女人献殷勤的时候，她们是喜爱音乐的，他本人就领会过音乐有这样的优点。
谈到这点，文学士菲德先生承认，他已看中了科妮莉亚•布林伯。他告诉图茨先生，他并不反对眼镜，如果博士肯慷慨解囊，并辞去他的职务的话，那么他们的生活就有保障了；在他看来，一个人由于工作挣得了一笔可观的财产之后，他就应当辞去他的职务；而科妮莉亚是一位任何人都会引以自豪的助手。图茨先生的回答是对董贝小姐满口不绝地称赞，还暗示说，他有时真想对准自己的脑袋开枪。菲德先生有力地强调说，这将是轻率鲁莽的尝试，为了使图茨先生安于生活，他还让他看看戴着眼镜和有其他特征的科妮莉亚的肖像。
这两位性情文静的人就这样度过了这个晚上；当夜接着来临的时候，图茨先生陪送菲德先生回家，并在布林伯博士的门口跟他分别。可是菲德先生只是走上台阶；当图茨先生离开以后，他又走下来，一个人在海滨散步，并默想着他的前程。菲德先生在溜达的时候，清楚地听到海浪在告诉他，布林伯博士将辞去他的工作；当他望着那房屋的外表，想着博士将首先重新油漆这房屋，并彻底修理它的时候，他感到了一种温柔的、浪漫的乐趣。
图茨先生也在收藏着他的宝石的盒子外面踱来踱去；在悲惨的心情下，他注视着一个发出亮光的窗子——警察对这并不是没有引起怀疑的——，他毫无疑问，那是弗洛伦斯的窗子。但实际上却并不是，因为那是斯丘顿夫人的房间；当弗洛伦斯睡在另一个房间里，在旧日的环境中，做着甜密的梦，旧日的一些联想又在心头复活的时候，一位老女人在冷酷的现实中，在这同一个剧场上，代替那个有病的孩子，又一次（然而是多么不同地！）恢复了与疾病和死亡的联系；她在这里伸开四肢，醒着，抱怨着。她面貌丑陋，形容枯槁，躺在她的得不到安息的床上；在她身旁，坐着伊迪丝，她那毫无热情的美貌令人恐怖——因为在病人的眼睛中，它具有令人恐怖的东西。在这寂静无声的夜间，海浪在对她们说些什么话呢？
“伊迪丝，这只举起来要打我的胳膊是谁的？你看见了吗？”
“那里什么也没有，妈妈，那只不过是你的幻觉罢了。”
“只不过是我的幻觉罢了！什么都是我的幻觉。看！难道你竟看不见吗？”
“真的，妈妈，那里什么也没有。如果那里当真有这样的东西的话，那么我还能这么木然不动地坐着吗？”
“木然不动？”她惊骇地看着她，“现在它消失了——不过你为什么能这么木然不动呢？那不是我的幻觉，伊迪丝。我看到你坐在我身旁，身上就发冷。”
“我感到遗憾，妈妈。”
“遗憾！你似乎老是在感到遗憾。可是并不是为了我！”
她一边说着一边就哭了起来，并把得不到休息的头在枕头上翻过来转过去，同时唠唠叨叨地说没有人理睬她，又说她曾经是个多么好的母亲；她们遇见的那位好老婆子也是一位多么好的母亲；这些母亲的女儿们又是怎样冷酷地报答她们。在这样语无伦次地说着的时候，她突然中途停下来，看着她的女儿，高声喊道，她的神志糊涂了，并把脸埋藏在床上。
伊迪丝怜悯地弯下身子，对她说话。有病的老太婆抓住她的脖子，露出恐怖的神情，说道：
“伊迪丝！我们很快就要回家了；很快就要回去了。你相信我还会回家吗？”
“会的，妈妈，会的。”
“他说了些什么话——他叫什么名字，我总是记不住名字——少校——当我们动身到这里来的时候，他说了那个可怕的字眼——难道不是吗，伊迪丝！”她尖声喊叫了一声，并瞪了一下眼睛，“难道那与我有什么关系吗？”
一夜又一夜，灯光在窗子里亮着；老太婆躺在床上，伊迪丝坐在她身旁；不平静的海浪整夜在向她们两人呼喊着。一夜又一夜，海浪嘶哑地重复着它那神秘的语言，沙子堆积在岸上；海鸟上上下下地飞翔；风和云沿着它们不留踪迹的线路行进；白色的胳膊在月光下向远方看不见的国家打着招呼。
有病的老太婆仍旧望着角落里；在那个角落里有一只石胳膊——她说，这是什么坟墓上的一个雕像的胳膊——正举起来要打她。最后这个石胳膊放下了，于是默默无声的老太婆躺在床上，身子蜷缩着，皮肤发皱，半个人已经死去了。
就是这位老太婆，涂脂抹粉，贴着美人斑，听凭太阳去嘲笑，一天又一天被慢慢地通过人群拉出去；这时她用眼睛寻找着那位曾经是多么好的母亲的好老婆子；当她在人群中找不到她的时候，她就撇着嘴。就是这位老太婆经常坐在车子里被一直送到海边，在那里停下来；可是不论什么风吹她，也不能使她振作起精神来；海洋发出的哗哗声中，没有一句安慰她的话。她躺着，听着它，但是它的语言对她是凶险的、不祥的，在她的脸上呈现出恐惧；当她的眼睛往浩瀚的汪洋望过去的时候，她所看到的只不过是天地之间茫茫一片荒凉而已。
她很少看到弗洛伦斯；当她看到的时候，她就对她生气，并皱着眉头。伊迪丝经常在她身旁，不让弗洛伦斯跟她们在一起；而弗洛伦斯夜间在床上一想到这样的死亡就浑身颤抖；她还时常醒来，听着，心想它已来临了。除了伊迪丝外；没有别的人照料老太婆。很少人看到她，这倒是好的。只有她的女儿一个人在床边看守着她。
在已经笼罩着阴影的脸上又加上一层阴影，在已经瘦削的脸形上又多了一重瘦削，她眼前的帷幕已转变成一块遮挡暗淡世界的厚厚的棺衣。在被单上摸来摸去的两只手软弱无力地合到一块，并向女儿那里移动；一个不像她的、也不像任何凡人所说的说道，“因为是我把你养大的！”
伊迪丝没有流泪，跪下去，使她的更挨近那个深埋到枕头里的头，回答道：
“妈妈，你能听到我说话吗？”
她把眼睛睁得大大的，想点头回答。
“你能记得我结婚前的那一夜吗？”
那个头一动不动，但从她脸上的表情中可以看出，她记得。
“那时候我对你说，我原谅你参与我的婚事，并祈求上帝宽恕我自己的参与。那时候我对你说，我们之间过去的事情已告一结束。我现在又重新这样说。吻我吧，妈妈。”
伊迪丝接触到那苍白的嘴唇，在片刻间一切都寂静无声。片刻之后，她的母亲带着她那少女般的笑声和克利奥佩特拉的骨头架子，在床上稍稍欠起身来。
把玫瑰色的帐子拉合上吧。除了风和云之外，还有别的什么东西在飞逝。把玫瑰色的帐子紧紧地拉合上吧！
这件事的消息已派人送到城里董贝先生那里；董贝先生拜访了菲尼克斯表哥（他还下不了决心去巴登—巴登）；菲尼克斯表哥也刚接到消息。像菲尼克斯表哥这样性格温厚的人是参加婚礼或葬礼的最合适的人物；考虑到他在家中的地位，应当跟他商量商量，这是很恰当的。
“董贝，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“说实话，在这样悲伤的时刻看到您，我非常激动。我可怜的妈妈！她过去是一位非常活泼的妇女。”
董贝先生回答道，“的确是这样。”
“而且，您知道，她外貌修整得实在年轻；”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“说真的，在您结婚的那一天，我曾以为她还能再活二十岁呢。事实上，我当时就跟布鲁克斯商行的一个人这样说过——他叫小比利•乔珀，有一只眼睛戴单眼镜的，毫无疑问，您认识他吧？”
董贝先生给了否定的回答。“关于葬礼，您是不是有什么建议——”
“啊，我的天！”菲尼克斯表哥说道，一边敲敲下巴，他从袖口中露出的手刚好能这样做，“我实在不知道！在我的土地上的公园里有一座陵庙，不过我担心，它需要好好修理一下，事实上，它现在的情况是很糟糕的。要不是手头不宽裕的话，我应当把它修整得好好的；不过我相信人们还常到那里去，在铁栏杆里举行野餐。”
董贝先生明白，那里不适宜。
“在那个村子里有一个少见的好教堂，”菲尼克斯表哥沉思地说道，“这是英格兰——诺尔曼风格的纯正的样本，简•芬奇伯里夫人——她是穿紧身褡的——还给它描绘过一幅精采的图画，不过据我了解，他们粉刷时把教堂糟蹋了，而且路途遥远。”
“也许就在布赖顿举行，怎么样？”董贝先生建议道。
“以我的荣誉发誓，董贝，我认为没有比这更好的地方了，”菲尼克斯表哥说道。“就在当地，而且那是个使人赏心悦目的地方。”
“定在什么日子合适呢？”董贝先生探问道。
“任何日子，只要是您认为最合适的，我都保证同意。”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“跟随我的姑妈到达那个——边境，事实上，也就是到达坟墓，我将感到极大的愉快（当然，是忧郁的愉快），”菲尼克斯表哥说道，其他的话他说不出来了。
“您能在星期一离开城里吗？”董贝先生问道。
“星期一对我完全合适，”菲尼克斯表哥回答道。因此董贝先生就约定在那天来把他送去，然后就立刻告辞了；菲尼克斯表哥把他送到楼梯口，分别时说道，“我实在非常抱歉，董贝，这件事给您添了这么多麻烦”；董贝先生回答道，“一点也不！”
在约定的那一天，菲尼克斯表哥和董贝先生会了面，然后前去布赖顿；他们两人代表对亡故的夫人表示哀悼的所有其他的人们，护送她的遗体到安息的地点。菲尼克斯表哥坐在灵柩车中，沿途认出无数熟人，可是他遵守礼节，没有和他们谈话，仅仅当从他们身旁经过的时候，他大声喊出他们的名字，让董贝先生知道；如：“汤姆•约翰逊。他有一条软木做的腿，是怀特公司给做的。怎么，汤米，您在这里呀？弗利，他骑一匹纯种的母马。这是斯莫德尔的姑娘们”，等等。在举行葬礼时，菲尼克斯表哥情绪低落；他说，在这种场合，一个人不由得会想到，他的身体事实上已逐渐衰弱了；当仪式结束时，他的眼睛确实是泪汪汪的。但是他很快就恢复了精神；斯丘顿夫人的其他亲友们也跟他一样；其中少校在俱乐部里反复地讲，她从来不把衣服穿严实；那位光裸着后背、打扮得十分年轻、费很大劲才能撑开眼皮的夫人则轻轻地头叫了一声，说，她一定非常衰老了；她是得了各种最可怕的病死去的；您应该别提起它了。
就这样，伊迪丝的母亲躺在那里，不再被她亲爱的朋友们提起，他们听不见海浪嘶哑地重复着它那神秘的语言，看不见沙子堆积在岸上，看不见白色的胳膊在月光下向远方看不见的国家打着招呼。可是在这未知的海洋的边缘，一切都像往常一样进行着；伊迪丝独自站在那里，听着海浪的；潮湿的海藻漂打到她的脚边，而且也撒布在她的生活道路上。
Chapter 42
Confidential and Accidental
Attired no more in Captain Cuttle's sable slops and sou'-wester hat, but dressed in a substantial suit of brown livery, which, while it affected to be a very sober and demure livery indeed, was really as self-satisfied and confident a one as tailor need desire to make, Rob the Grinder, thus transformed as to his outer man, and all regardless within of the Captain and the Midshipman, except when he devoted a few minutes of his leisure time to crowing over those inseparable worthies, and recalling, with much applauding music from that brazen instrument, his conscience, the triumphant manner in which he had disembarrassed himself of their company, now served his patron, Mr Carker. Inmate of Mr Carker's house, and serving about his person, Rob kept his round eyes on the white teeth with fear and trembling, and felt that he had need to open them wider than ever.
He could not have quaked more, through his whole being, before the teeth, though he had come into the service of some powerful enchanter, and they had been his strongest spells. The boy had a sense of power and authority in this patron of his that engrossed his whole attention and exacted his most implicit submission and obedience. He hardly considered himself safe in thinking about him when he was absent, lest he should feel himself immediately taken by the throat again, as on the morning when he first became bound to him, and should see every one of the teeth finding him out, and taxing him with every fancy of his mind. Face to face with him, Rob had no more doubt that Mr Carker read his secret thoughts, or that he could read them by the least exertion of his will if he were so inclined, than he had that Mr Carker saw him when he looked at him. The ascendancy was so complete, and held him in such enthralment, that, hardly daring to think at all, but with his mind filled with a constantly dilating impression of his patron's irresistible command over him, and power of doing anything with him, he would stand watching his pleasure, and trying to anticipate his orders, in a state of mental suspension, as to all other things.
Rob had not informed himself perhaps - in his then state of mind it would have been an act of no common temerity to inquire - whether he yielded so completely to this influence in any part, because he had floating suspicions of his patron's being a master of certain treacherous arts in which he had himself been a poor scholar at the Grinders' School. But certainly Rob admired him, as well as feared him. Mr Carker, perhaps, was better acquainted with the sources of his power, which lost nothing by his management of it.
On the very night when he left the Captain's service, Rob, after disposing of his pigeons, and even making a bad bargain in his hurry, had gone straight down to Mr Carker's house, and hotly presented himself before his new master with a glowing face that seemed to expect commendation.
'What, scapegrace!' said Mr Carker, glancing at his bundle 'Have you left your situation and come to me?'
'Oh if you please, Sir,' faltered Rob, 'you said, you know, when I come here last - '
'I said,' returned Mr Carker, 'what did I say?'
'If you please, Sir, you didn't say nothing at all, Sir,' returned Rob, warned by the manner of this inquiry, and very much disconcerted.
His patron looked at him with a wide display of gums, and shaking his forefinger, observed:
'You'll come to an evil end, my vagabond friend, I foresee. There's ruin in store for you.
'Oh if you please, don't, Sir!' cried Rob, with his legs trembling under him. ' I'm sure, Sir, I only want to work for you, Sir, and to wait upon you, Sir, and to do faithful whatever I'm bid, Sir.'
'You had better do faithfully whatever you are bid,' returned his patron, 'if you have anything to do with me.'
'Yes, I know that, Sir,' pleaded the submissive Rob; 'I'm sure of that, SIr. If you'll only be so good as try me, Sir! And if ever you find me out, Sir, doing anything against your wishes, I give you leave to kill me.'
'You dog!' said Mr Carker, leaning back in his chair, and smiling at him serenely. 'That's nothing to what I'd do to you, if you tried to deceive me.'
'Yes, Sir,' replied the abject Grinder, 'I'm sure you would be down upon me dreadful, Sir. I wouldn't attempt for to go and do it, Sir, not if I was bribed with golden guineas.'
Thoroughly checked in his expectations of commendation, the crestfallen Grinder stood looking at his patron, and vainly endeavouring not to look at him, with the uneasiness which a cur will often manifest in a similar situation.
'So you have left your old service, and come here to ask me to take you into mine, eh?' said Mr Carker.
'Yes, if you please, Sir,' returned Rob, who, in doing so, had acted on his patron's own instructions, but dared not justify himself by the least insinuation to that effect.
'Well!' said Mr Carker. 'You know me, boy?'
'Please, Sir, yes, Sir,' returned Rob, tumbling with his hat, and still fixed by Mr Carker's eye, and fruitlessly endeavouring to unfix himself.
Mr Carker nodded. 'Take care, then!'
Rob expressed in a number of short bows his lively understanding of this caution, and was bowing himself back to the door, greatly relieved by the prospect of getting on the outside of it, when his patron stopped him.
'Halloa!' he cried, calling him roughly back. 'You have been - shut that door.'
Rob obeyed as if his life had depended on his alacrity.
'You have been used to eaves-dropping. Do you know what that means?'
'Listening, Sir?' Rob hazarded, after some embarrassed reflection.
His patron nodded. 'And watching, and so forth.'
'I wouldn't do such a thing here, Sir,' answered Rob; 'upon my word and honour, I wouldn't, Sir, I wish I may die if I would, Sir, for anything that could be promised to me. I should consider it is as much as all the world was worth, to offer to do such a thing, unless I was ordered, Sir.'
'You had better not' You have been used, too, to babbling and tattling,' said his patron with perfect coolness. 'Beware of that here, or you're a lost rascal,' and he smiled again, and again cautioned him with his forefinger.
The Grinder's breath came short and thick with consternation. He tried to protest the purity of his intentions, but could only stare at the smiling gentleman in a stupor of submission, with which the smiling gentleman seemed well enough satisfied, for he ordered him downstairs, after observing him for some moments in silence, and gave him to understand that he was retained in his employment. This was the manner of Rob the Grinder's engagement by Mr Carker, and his awe-stricken devotion to that gentleman had strengthened and increased, if possible, with every minute of his service.
It was a service of some months' duration, when early one morning, Rob opened the garden gate to Mr Dombey, who was come to breakfast with his master, by appointment. At the same moment his master himself came, hurrying forth to receive the distinguished guest, and give him welcome with all his teeth.
'I never thought,' said Carker, when he had assisted him to alight from his horse, 'to see you here, I'm sure. This is an extraordinary day in my calendar. No occasion is very special to a man like you, who may do anything; but to a man like me, the case is widely different.
'You have a tasteful place here, Carker,' said Mr Dombey, condescending to stop upon the lawn, to look about him.
'You can afford to say so,' returned Carker. 'Thank you.'
'Indeed,' said Mr Dombey, in his lofty patronage, 'anyone might say so. As far as it goes, it is a very commodious and well-arranged place - quite elegant.'
'As far as it goes, truly,' returned Carker, with an air of disparagement' 'It wants that qualification. Well! we have said enough about it; and though you can afford to praise it, I thank you nonetheless. Will you walk in?'
Mr Dombey, entering the house, noticed, as he had reason to do, the complete arrangement of the rooms, and the numerous contrivances for comfort and effect that abounded there. Mr Carker, in his ostentation of humility, received this notice with a deferential smile, and said he understood its delicate meaning, and appreciated it, but in truth the cottage was good enough for one in his position - better, perhaps, than such a man should occupy, poor as it was.
'But perhaps to you, who are so far removed, it really does look better than it is,' he said, with his false mouth distended to its fullest stretch. 'Just as monarchs imagine attractions in the lives of beggars.'
He directed a sharp glance and a sharp smile at Mr Dombey as he spoke, and a sharper glance, and a sharper smile yet, when Mr Dombey, drawing himself up before the fire, in the attitude so often copied by his second in command, looked round at the pictures on the walls. Cursorily as his cold eye wandered over them, Carker's keen glance accompanied his, and kept pace with his, marking exactly where it went, and what it saw. As it rested on one picture in particular, Carker hardly seemed to breathe, his sidelong scrutiny was so cat-like and vigilant, but the eye of his great chief passed from that, as from the others, and appeared no more impressed by it than by the rest.
Carker looked at it - it was the picture that resembled Edith - as if it were a living thing; and with a wicked, silent laugh upon his face, that seemed in part addressed to it, though it was all derisive of the great man standing so unconscious beside him. Breakfast was soon set upon the table; and, inviting Mr Dombey to a chair which had its back towards this picture, he took his own seat opposite to it as usual.
Mr Dombey was even graver than it was his custom to be, and quite silent. The parrot, swinging in the gilded hoop within her gaudy cage, attempted in vain to attract notice, for Carker was too observant of his visitor to heed her; and the visitor, abstracted in meditation, looked fixedly, not to say sullenly, over his stiff neckcloth, without raising his eyes from the table-cloth. As to Rob, who was in attendance, all his faculties and energies were so locked up in observation of his master, that he scarcely ventured to give shelter to the thought that the visitor was the great gentleman before whom he had been carried as a certificate of the family health, in his childhood, and to whom he had been indebted for his leather smalls.
'Allow me,' said Carker suddenly, 'to ask how Mrs Dombey is?'
He leaned forward obsequiously, as he made the inquiry, with his chin resting on his hand; and at the same time his eyes went up to the picture, as if he said to it, 'Now, see, how I will lead him on!'
Mr Dombey reddened as he answered:
'Mrs Dombey is quite well. You remind me, Carker, of some conversation that I wish to have with you.'
'Robin, you can leave us,' said his master, at whose mild tones Robin started and disappeared, with his eyes fixed on his patron to the last. 'You don't remember that boy, of course?' he added, when the enmeshed Grinder was gone.
'No,' said Mr Dombey, with magnificent indifference.
'Not likely that a man like you would. Hardly possible,' murmured Carker. 'But he is one of that family from whom you took a nurse. Perhaps you may remember having generously charged yourself with his education?'
'Is it that boy?' said Mr Dombey, with a frown. 'He does little credit to his education, I believe.'
'Why, he is a young rip, I am afraid,' returned Carker, with a shrug. 'He bears that character. But the truth is, I took him into my service because, being able to get no other employment, he conceived (had been taught at home, I daresay) that he had some sort of claim upon you, and was constantly trying to dog your heels with his petition. And although my defined and recognised connexion with your affairs is merely of a business character, still I have that spontaneous interest in everything belonging to you, that - '
He stopped again, as if to discover whether he had led Mr Dombey far enough yet. And again, with his chin resting on his hand, he leered at the picture.
'Carker,' said Mr Dombey, 'I am sensible that you do not limit your - '
'Service,' suggested his smiling entertainer.
'No; I prefer to say your regard,' observed Mr Dombey; very sensible, as he said so, that he was paying him a handsome and flattering compliment, 'to our mere business relations. Your consideration for my feelings, hopes, and disappointments, in the little instance you have just now mentioned, is an example in point. I I am obliged to you, Carker.'
Mr Carker bent his head slowly, and very softly rubbed his hands, as if he were afraid by any action to disturb the current of Mr Dombey's confidence.
'Your allusion to it is opportune,' said Mr Dombey, after a little hesitation; 'for it prepares the way to what I was beginning to say to you, and reminds me that that involves no absolutely new relations between us, although it may involve more personal confidence on my part than I have hitherto - '
'Distinguished me with,' suggested Carker, bending his head again: 'I will not say to you how honoured I am; for a man like you well knows how much honour he has in his power to bestow at pleasure.'
'Mrs Dombey and myself,' said Mr Dombey, passing this compliment with august self-denial, 'are not quite agreed upon some points. We do not appear to understand each other yet' Mrs Dombey has something to learn.'
'Mrs Dombey is distinguished by many rare attractions; and has been accustomed, no doubt, to receive much adulation,' said the smooth, sleek watcher of his slightest look and tone. 'But where there is affection, duty, and respect, any little mistakes engendered by such causes are soon set right.'
Mr Dombey's thoughts instinctively flew back to the face that had looked at him in his wife's dressing-room when an imperious hand was stretched towards the door; and remembering the affection, duty, and respect, expressed in it, he felt the blood rush to his own face quite as plainly as the watchful eyes upon him saw it there.
'Mrs Dombey and myself,' he went on to say, 'had some discussion, before Mrs Skewton's death, upon the causes of my dissatisfaction; of which you will have formed a general understanding from having been a witness of what passed between Mrs Dombey and myself on the evening when you were at our - at my house.'
'When I so much regretted being present,' said the smiling Carker. 'Proud as a man in my position nay must be of your familiar notice - though I give you no credit for it; you may do anything you please without losing caste - and honoured as I was by an early presentation to Mrs Dombey, before she was made eminent by bearing your name, I almost regretted that night, I assure you, that I had been the object of such especial good fortune'
That any man could, under any possible circumstances, regret the being distinguished by his condescension and patronage, was a moral phenomenon which Mr Dombey could not comprehend. He therefore responded, with a considerable accession of dignity. 'Indeed! And why, Carker?'
'I fear,' returned the confidential agent, 'that Mrs Dombey, never very much disposed to regard me with favourable interest - one in my position could not expect that, from a lady naturally proud, and whose pride becomes her so well - may not easily forgive my innocent part in that conversation. Your displeasure is no light matter, you must remember; and to be visited with it before a third party -
'Carker,' said Mr Dombey, arrogantly; 'I presume that I am the first consideration?'
'Oh! Can there be a doubt about it?' replied the other, with the impatience of a man admitting a notorious and incontrovertible fact'
'Mrs Dombey becomes a secondary consideration, when we are both in question, I imagine,' said Mr Dombey. 'Is that so?'
'Is it so?' returned Carker. 'Do you know better than anyone, that you have no need to ask?'
'Then I hope, Carker,' said Mr Dombey, 'that your regret in the acquisition of Mrs Dombey's displeasure, may be almost counterbalanced by your satisfaction in retaining my confidence and good opinion.'
'I have the misfortune, I find,' returned Carker, 'to have incurred that displeasure. Mrs Dombey has expressed it to you?'
'Mrs Dombey has expressed various opinions,' said Mr Dombey, with majestic coldness and indifference, 'in which I do not participate, and which I am not inclined to discuss, or to recall. I made Mr's Dombey acquainted, some time since, as I have already told you, with certain points of domestic deference and submission on which I felt it necessary to insist. I failed to convince Mrs Dombey of the expediency of her immediately altering her conduct in those respects, with a view to her own peace and welfare, and my dignity; and I informed Mrs Dombey that if I should find it necessary to object or remonstrate again, I should express my opinion to her through yourself, my confidential agent.'
Blended with the look that Carker bent upon him, was a devilish look at the picture over his head, that struck upon it like a flash of lightning.
'Now, Carker,' said Mr Dombey, 'I do not hesitate to say to you that I will carry my point. I am not to be trifled with. Mrs Dombey must understand that my will is law, and that I cannot allow of one exception to the whole rule of my life. You will have the goodness to undertake this charge, which, coming from me, is not unacceptable to you, I hope, whatever regret you may politely profess - for which I am obliged to you on behalf of Mrs Dombey; and you will have the goodness, I am persuaded, to discharge it as exactly as any other commission.'
'You know,' said Mr Carker, 'that you have only to command me.
'I know,' said Mr Dombey, with a majestic indication of assent, 'that I have only to command you. It is necessary that I should proceed in this. Mrs Dombey is a lady undoubtedly highly qualified, in many respects, to -
'To do credit even to your choice,' suggested Carker, with a yawning show of teeth.
'Yes; if you please to adopt that form of words,' said Mr Dombey, in his tone of state; 'and at present I do not conceive that Mrs Dombey does that credit to it, to which it is entitled. There is a principle of opposition in Mrs Dombey that must be eradicated; that must be overcome: Mrs Dombey does not appear to understand,' said Mr Dombey, forcibly, 'that the idea of opposition to Me is monstrous and absurd.'
'We, in the City, know you better,' replied Carker, with a smile from ear to ear.
'You know me better,' said Mr Dombey. 'I hope so. Though, indeed, I am bound to do Mrs Dombey the justice of saying, however inconsistent it may seem with her subsequent conduct (which remains unchanged), that on my expressing my disapprobation and determination to her, with some severity, on the occasion to which I have referred, my admonition appeared to produce a very powerful effect.' Mr Dombey delivered himself of those words with most portentous stateliness. 'I wish you to have the goodness, then, to inform Mrs Dombey, Carker, from me, that I must recall our former conversation to her remembrance, in some surprise that it has not yet had its effect. That I must insist upon her regulating her conduct by the injunctions laid upon her in that conversation. That I am not satisfied with her conduct. That I am greatly dissatisfied with it. And that I shall be under the very disagreeable necessity of making you the bearer of yet more unwelcome and explicit communications, if she has not the good sense and the proper feeling to adapt herself to my wishes, as the first Mrs Dombey did, and, I believe I may add, as any other lady in her place would.'
'The first Mrs Dombey lived very happily,' said Carker.
'The first Mrs Dombey had great good sense,' said Mr Dombey, in a gentlemanly toleration of the dead, 'and very correct feeling.'
'Is Miss Dombey like her mother, do you think?' said Carker.
Swiftly and darkly, Mr Dombey's face changed. His confidential agent eyed it keenly.
'I have approached a painful subject,' he said, in a soft regretful tone of voice, irreconcilable with his eager eye. 'Pray forgive me. I forget these chains of association in the interest I have. Pray forgive me.'
But for all he said, his eager eye scanned Mr Dombey's downcast face none the less closely; and then it shot a strange triumphant look at the picture, as appealing to it to bear witness how he led him on again, and what was coming.
Carker,' said Mr Dombey, looking here and there upon the table, and saying in a somewhat altered and more hurried voice, and with a paler lip, 'there is no occasion for apology. You mistake. The association is with the matter in hand, and not with any recollection, as you suppose. I do not approve of Mrs Dombey's behaviour towards my daughter.'
'Pardon me,' said Mr Carker, 'I don't quite understand.'
'Understand then,' returned Mr Dombey, 'that you may make that - that you will make that, if you please - matter of direct objection from me to Mrs Dombey. You will please to tell her that her show of devotion for my daughter is disagreeable to me. It is likely to be noticed. It is likely to induce people to contrast Mrs Dombey in her relation towards my daughter, with Mrs Dombey in her relation towards myself. You will have the goodness to let Mrs Dombey know, plainly, that I object to it; and that I expect her to defer, immediately, to my objection. Mrs Dombey may be in earnest, or she may be pursuing a whim, or she may be opposing me; but I object to it in any case, and in every case. If Mrs Dombey is in earnest, so much the less reluctant should she be to desist; for she will not serve my daughter by any such display. If my wife has any superfluous gentleness, and duty over and above her proper submission to me, she may bestow them where she pleases, perhaps; but I will have submission first! - Carker,' said Mr Dombey, checking the unusual emotion with which he had spoken, and falling into a tone more like that in which he was accustomed to assert his greatness, 'you will have the goodness not to omit or slur this point, but to consider it a very important part of your instructions.'
Mr Carker bowed his head, and rising from the table, and standing thoughtfully before the fire, with his hand to his smooth chin, looked down at Mr Dombey with the evil slyness of some monkish carving, half human and half brute; or like a leering face on an old water-spout. Mr Dombey, recovering his composure by degrees, or cooling his emotion in his sense of having taken a high position, sat gradually stiffening again, and looking at the parrot as she swung to and fro, in her great wedding ring.
'I beg your pardon,' said Carker, after a silence, suddenly resuming his chair, and drawing it opposite to Mr Dombey's, 'but let me understand. Mrs Dombey is aware of the probability of your making me the organ of your displeasure?'
'Yes,' replied Mr Dombey. 'I have said so.'
'Yes,' rejoined Carker, quickly; 'but why?'
'Why!' Mr Dombey repeated, not without hesitation. 'Because I told her.'
'Ay,' replied Carker. 'But why did you tell her? You see,' he continued with a smile, and softly laying his velvet hand, as a cat might have laid its sheathed claws, on Mr Dombey's arm; 'if I perfectly understand what is in your mind, I am so much more likely to be useful, and to have the happiness of being effectually employed. I think I do understand. I have not the honour of Mrs Dombey's good opinion. In my position, I have no reason to expect it; but I take the fact to be, that I have not got it?'
'Possibly not,' said Mr Dombey.
'Consequently,' pursued Carker, 'your making the communications to Mrs Dombey through me, is sure to be particularly unpalatable to that lady?'
'It appears to me,' said Mr Dombey, with haughty reserve, and yet with some embarrassment, 'that Mrs Dombey's views upon the subject form no part of it as it presents itself to you and me, Carker. But it may be so.'
'And - pardon me - do I misconceive you,' said Carker, 'when I think you descry in this, a likely means of humbling Mrs Dombey's pride - I use the word as expressive of a quality which, kept within due bounds, adorns and graces a lady so distinguished for her beauty and accomplishments - and, not to say of punishing her, but of reducing her to the submission you so naturally and justly require?'
'I am not accustomed, Carker, as you know,' said Mr Dombey, 'to give such close reasons for any course of conduct I think proper to adopt, but I will gainsay nothing of this. If you have any objection to found upon it, that is indeed another thing, and the mere statement that you have one will be sufficient. But I have not supposed, I confess, that any confidence I could entrust to you, would be likely to degrade you - '
'Oh! I degraded!' exclaimed Carker. 'In your service!'
'or to place you,' pursued Mr Dombey, 'in a false position.'
'I in a false position!' exclaimed Carker. 'I shall be proud - delighted - to execute your trust. I could have wished, I own, to have given the lady at whose feet I would lay my humble duty and devotion - for is she not your wife! - no new cause of dislike; but a wish from you is, of course, paramount to every other consideration on earth. Besides, when Mrs Dombey is converted from these little errors of judgment, incidental, I would presume to say, to the novelty of her situation, I shall hope that she will perceive in the slight part I take, only a grain - my removed and different sphere gives room for little more - of the respect for you, and sacrifice of all considerations to you, of which it will be her pleasure and privilege to garner up a great store every day.'
Mr Dombey seemed, at the moment, again to see her with her hand stretched out towards the door, and again to hear through the mild speech of his confidential agent an echo of the words, 'Nothing can make us stranger to each other than we are henceforth!' But he shook off the fancy, and did not shake in his resolution, and said, 'Certainly, no doubt.'
'There is nothing more,' quoth Carker, drawing his chair back to its old place - for they had taken little breakfast as yet- and pausing for an answer before he sat down.
'Nothing,' said Mr Dombey, 'but this. You will be good enough to observe, Carker, that no message to Mrs Dombey with which you are or may be charged, admits of reply. You will be good enough to bring me no reply. Mrs Dombey is informed that it does not become me to temporise or treat upon any matter that is at issue between us, and that what I say is final.'
Mr Carker signIfied his understanding of these credentials, and they fell to breakfast with what appetite they might. The Grinder also, in due time reappeared, keeping his eyes upon his master without a moment's respite, and passing the time in a reverie of worshipful tenor. Breakfast concluded, Mr Dombey's horse was ordered out again, and Mr Carker mounting his own, they rode off for the City together.
Mr Carker was in capital spirits, and talked much. Mr Dombey received his conversation with the sovereign air of a man who had a right to be talked to, and occasionally condescended to throw in a few words to carry on the conversation. So they rode on characteristically enough. But Mr Dombey, in his dignity, rode with very long stirrups, and a very loose rein, and very rarely deigned to look down to see where his horse went. In consequence of which it happened that Mr Dombey's horse, while going at a round trot, stumbled on some loose stones, threw him, rolled over him, and lashing out with his iron-shod feet, in his struggles to get up, kicked him.
Mr Carker, quick of eye, steady of hand, and a good horseman, was afoot, and had the struggling animal upon his legs and by the bridle, in a moment. Otherwise that morning's confidence would have been Mr Dombey's last. Yet even with the flush and hurry of this action red upon him, he bent over his prostrate chief with every tooth disclosed, and muttered as he stooped down, 'I have given good cause of offence to Mrs Dombey now, if she knew it!'
Mr Dombey being insensible, and bleeding from the head and face, was carried by certain menders of the road, under Carker's direction, to the nearest public-house, which was not far off, and where he was soon attended by divers surgeons, who arrived in quick succession from all parts, and who seemed to come by some mysterious instinct, as vultures are said to gather about a camel who dies in the desert. After being at some pains to restore him to consciousness, these gentlemen examined into the nature of his injuries.
One surgeon who lived hard by was strong for a compound fracture of the leg, which was the landlord's opinion also; but two surgeons who lived at a distance, and were only in that neighbourhood by accident, combated this opinion so disinterestedly, that it was decided at last that the patient, though severely cut and bruised, had broken no bones but a lesser rib or so, and might be carefully taken home before night. His injuries being dressed and bandaged, which was a long operation, and he at length left to repose, Mr Carker mounted his horse again, and rode away to carry the intelligence home.
Crafty and cruel as his face was at the best of times, though it was a sufficiently fair face as to form and regularity of feature, it was at its worst when he set forth on this errand; animated by the craft and cruelty of thoughts within him, suggestions of remote possibility rather than of design or plot, that made him ride as if he hunted men and women. Drawing rein at length, and slackening in his speed, as he came into the more public roads, he checked his white-legged horse into picking his way along as usual, and hid himself beneath his sleek, hushed, crouched manner, and his ivory smile, as he best could.
He rode direct to Mr Dombey's house, alighted at the door, and begged to see Mrs Dombey on an affair of importance. The servant who showed him to Mr Dombey's own room, soon returned to say that it was not Mrs Dombey's hour for receiving visitors, and that he begged pardon for not having mentioned it before.
Mr Carker, who was quite prepared for a cold reception, wrote upon a card that he must take the liberty of pressing for an interview, and that he would not be so bold as to do so, for the second time (this he underlined), if he were not equally sure of the occasion being sufficient for his justification. After a trifling delay, Mrs Dombey's maid appeared, and conducted him to a morning room upstairs, where Edith and Florence were together.
He had never thought Edith half so beautiful before. Much as he admired the graces of her face and form, and freshly as they dwelt within his sensual remembrance, he had never thought her half so beautiful.
Her glance fell haughtily upon him in the doorway; but he looked at Florence - though only in the act of bending his head, as he came in - with some irrepressible expression of the new power he held; and it was his triumph to see the glance droop and falter, and to see that Edith half rose up to receive him.
He was very sorry, he was deeply grieved; he couldn't say with what unwillingness he came to prepare her for the intelligence of a very slight accident. He entreated Mrs Dombey to compose herself. Upon his sacred word of honour, there was no cause of alarm. But Mr Dombey -
Florence uttered a sudden cry. He did not look at her, but at Edith. Edith composed and reassured her. She uttered no cry of distress. No, no.
Mr Dombey had met with an accident in riding. His horse had slipped, and he had been thrown.
Florence wildly exclaimed that he was badly hurt; that he was killed!
No. Upon his honour, Mr Dombey, though stunned at first, was soon recovered, and though certainly hurt was in no kind of danger. If this were not the truth, he, the distressed intruder, never could have had the courage to present himself before Mrs Dombey. It was the truth indeed, he solemnly assured her.
All this he said as if he were answering Edith, and not Florence, and with his eyes and his smile fastened on Edith.
He then went on to tell her where Mr Dombey was lying, and to request that a carriage might be placed at his disposal to bring him home.
'Mama,' faltered Florence in tears, 'if I might venture to go!'
Mr Carker, having his eyes on Edith when he heard these words, gave her a secret look and slightly shook his head. He saw how she battled with herself before she answered him with her handsome eyes, but he wrested the answer from her - he showed her that he would have it, or that he would speak and cut Florence to the heart - and she gave it to him. As he had looked at the picture in the morning, so he looked at her afterwards, when she turned her eyes away.
'I am directed to request,' he said, 'that the new housekeeper - Mrs Pipchin, I think, is the name - '
Nothing escaped him. He saw in an instant, that she was another slight of Mr Dombey's on his wife.
' - may be informed that Mr Dombey wishes to have his bed prepared in his own apartments downstairs, as he prefers those rooms to any other. I shall return to Mr Dombey almost immediately. That every possible attention has been paid to his comfort, and that he is the object of every possible solicitude, I need not assure you, Madam. Let me again say, there is no cause for the least alarm. Even you may be quite at ease, believe me.'
He bowed himself out, with his extremest show of deference and conciliation; and having returned to Mr Dombey's room, and there arranged for a carriage being sent after him to the City, mounted his horse again, and rode slowly thither. He was very thoughtful as he went along, and very thoughtful there, and very thoughtful in the carriage on his way back to the place where Mr Dombey had been left. It was only when sitting by that gentleman's couch that he was quite himself again, and conscious of his teeth.
About the time of twilight, Mr Dombey, grievously afflicted with aches and pains, was helped into his carriage, and propped with cloaks and pillows on one side of it, while his confidential agent bore him company upon the other. As he was not to be shaken, they moved at little more than a foot pace; and hence it was quite dark when he was brought home. Mrs Pipchin, bitter and grim, and not oblivious of the Peruvian mines, as the establishment in general had good reason to know, received him at the door, and freshened the domestics with several little sprinklings of wordy vinegar, while they assisted in conveying him to his room. Mr Carker remained in attendance until he was safe in bed, and then, as he declined to receive any female visitor, but the excellent Ogress who presided over his household, waited on Mrs Dombey once more, with his report on her lord's condition.
He again found Edith alone with Florence, and he again addressed the whole of his soothing speech to Edith, as if she were a prey to the liveliest and most affectionate anxieties. So earnest he was in his respectful sympathy, that on taking leave, he ventured - with one more glance towards Florence at the moment - to take her hand, and bending over it, to touch it with his lips.
Edith did not withdraw the hand, nor did she strike his fair face with it, despite the flush upon her cheek, the bright light in her eyes, and the dilation of her whole form. But when she was alone in her own room, she struck it on the marble chimney-shelf, so that, at one blow, it was bruised, and bled; and held it from her, near the shining fire, as if she could have thrust it in and burned it'
Far into the night she sat alone, by the sinking blaze, in dark and threatening beauty, watching the murky shadows looming on the wall, as if her thoughts were tangible, and cast them there. Whatever shapes of outrage and affront, and black foreshadowings of things that might happen, flickered, indistinct and giant-like, before her, one resented figure marshalled them against her. And that figure was her husband.
磨工罗布不再穿卡特尔船长给他的黑色丧服，也不再戴那防水帽，而是穿上一套结实的、棕色的制服了；虽然这套制服在他身上表面上装出很朴实、很端庄的样子，但实际上却显出一副沾沾自喜、逞能自信的神态，这正是任何裁缝都愿意把衣服做成这种气派的；就这样，磨工罗布完全改变了他的外观；他在心里也完全把船长和海军军官候补生抛开，只不过在闲暇的时候才花上几分钟向这些难以分开的、尊贵的朋友们夸耀一下自己的升迁，并在那黄铜乐器——他的良心——发出的赞扬的音乐的伴奏下，回忆起他是怎样得意扬扬地摆脱了他们的；他现在为他的恩人卡克先生服务。他住在卡克先生家里，侍候着他本人，因此一直怀着恐惧的心情，哆哆嗦嗦地把他那圆圆的眼睛片刻不离地注视着卡克先生那雪白的牙齿，而且觉得，他应当把眼睛睁得比过去任何时候都更大才是。
即使他是在一位大巫士手下服务，牙齿又是这巫士最强有力的魔力的话，那么他也不能比对着卡克先生这些牙齿，全身上下颤抖得更厉害的了。这孩子在他恩人身上感觉到一种力量和权威，它吸引了他的全部注意力，迫使他绝对地驯服与顺从。甚至当他的恩人不在的时候，他也并不认为他想到他时就安全无恙，因为他唯恐他的恩人又会像他第一次见到他的那天早上一样，立即就抓住他的喉咙；他唯恐又会看到，他恩人的每一颗牙齿都来揭发他，并谴责他心中的每一个念头。跟他恩人面对面在一起的时候，罗布毫不怀疑：卡克先生看透他的秘密的思想；或者更确切地说，如果卡克先生想要这样做的话，那么他只要稍稍运用一下他的意志，他就能看透它们；罗布完全相信这一点，就像他相信他在看卡克先生的时候，卡克先生一定在看他一样。卡克先生凌驾于他的力量是这样包罗一切，是这样牢牢地把他置于他的控制之下，因此他根本连想也不敢去想，而只是在整个心里不断地愈益强烈地感觉到，他的恩人对他具有不可抗拒的权威，并有能力对他做任何事情，因此他就站着讨取他的欢心，并设法抢先去执行他的命令，至于其他一切思想活动则完全停止了。
也许罗布没有问过他自己——在他当时的心情下，提出这样的问题将会是一件非常轻率的行为——：他在各个方面都这样完全屈服于这种影响，是不是因为他在心中曾浮现过这样的猜疑：他的恩人是奸诈权术的大师，而他自己在磨工学校中在这方面也曾经是一名可怜的学生。不过罗布不仅怕他，而且也的的确确钦佩他。也许卡克先生更了解他力量的源泉，并万无一失地运用它。
罗布在辞退了船长那里的职务的当天晚上，卖掉了鸽子，在匆匆忙忙之中甚至做了一笔不利的交易之后，就直接来到卡克先生的家里，兴奋地出现在他的新主人的面前；他满脸通红，似乎指望得到称赞似的。
“怎么，淘气鬼！”卡克先生向他的包袱看了一眼，说道，“你已经辞退了你的工作，上我这里来了？”
“嗯，对不起，先生，”罗布结结巴巴地说道，“您知道，上次我到这里来的时候，您曾说过——”
“我曾说过，”卡克先生回答道，“我曾说过什么啦？”
“对不起，先生，您什么也没有说过，先生，”罗布回答道；卡克先生问话的语气已对他发出了警告；他感到张皇失措。
他的恩人露出宽阔的牙床，看着他，又用食指点了点，说道：
“我看你今后没有好下场，我的流浪汉朋友。灾祸等待着你。”
“啊，请别这样说，先生！”罗布喊道，他身子下面的两只腿颤抖着。“说实在的，先生，我只想为您工作；先生；只想侍候您，先生；只想忠实地完成您吩咐我的一切事情，先生。”
“如果你想跟我打交道，”他的恩人回答道，“你最好是忠实地完成我吩咐你的一切事情。”
“是的，这我明白，先生，”顺从的罗布辩护道，“这我相信，先生。如果您肯开个恩，考验考验我的话，先生！而且，如果您什么时候发现我做任何违反您的意愿的事情的话，先生，那么我可以让您杀死我。”
“你这狗！”卡克先生背靠在椅子上，向他从容地微笑着，说道，“如果你想要欺骗我的话，那么我就会让你够难受的；
跟那比起来，杀死你根本算不了什么！”
“是的，先生，”丧魂落魄的磨工回答道，“我相信，您会残酷可怕地惩治我，先生。哪怕有人用金基尼来收买我，我也不想欺骗您，先生。”
磨工本想得到称赞的指望完全落了空，他垂头丧气地站在那里看着他的恩人，并徒劳无益地想不去看他；那惴惴不安的神情就像一条狗在类似情况下时常表现出来的那样。
“这么说，你已经辞退了你原先的工作，到这里来请求我允许你在我手下服务，是不是？”卡克先生问道。
“是的，如果您愿意的话，先生，”罗布回答道；他实际上是遵照他的恩人的指令到这里来的，可是现在他甚至不敢稍稍暗示一下这个事实来为自己辩护。
“好吧！”卡克先生说道，“你了解我吧，孩子？”
“对不起，先生，是的，先生，”罗布回答道，一边笨手笨脚地摸弄着帽子，同时仍旧被卡克先生的眼光束缚住；虽然他想从这束缚中解脱出来，但总是徒劳无效。
卡克先生点点头。“那么就多加小心吧！”
罗布连连鞠躬，表示他对这警告有着深刻的理解，同时一边鞠躬，一边向门口退去；当他眼看就要退出门外，正感到极大欣慰的时候，他的恩人把他喊住了。
“喂！”他喊道，粗暴地叫他回来。“你过去经常——把门关上！”
罗布立即遵命，仿佛他的生命就取决于他是否敏捷似的。
“你过去经常躲在屋檐下面。你知道这是什么意思吗？”
“是说偷听吧，先生？”罗布困惑地思索了一下，大胆猜测道。
他的恩人点点头。“以及偷看，等等。”
“我决不会在这里做这些事情，先生，”罗布回答道，“说实话，我以我的荣誉发誓，我决不会这样做，先生；不论向我许什么愿，我宁肯死去，也不愿这样做。除非您对我下达命令，否则即使把全世界的珍宝献给我，要我去做这种事情，我也决不动心。”
“你最好别做。你过去还经常泄露秘密，搬弄是非，”他的恩人十分冷淡地说道。“在这里可不行，你得知道这一点，要不然，你就是个不可救药的无赖了，”他又微笑着，而且又用食指向他点了点，向他发出警告。
磨工惊恐得直喘粗气。他本想要表白他过去那样做的用意是纯洁的，但在毫无抵抗、俯首听命的情绪中，他只能瞪眼看着那位微笑着的先生。那位微笑着的先生似乎对他的顺从十分满意，因为他默默地把他打量了一会儿之后，命令他下楼去，并让他了解，他已被留下雇用了。
罗布就是这样被卡克先生雇用的。他对那位先生诚惶诚恐的忠诚，随着他的服务时间，每分钟都在加强和增进（如果这是可能的话）。
罗布服务了几个月之后，有一天早上，他给董贝先生打开了花园的门；董贝先生是按照约定来跟他的主人一起吃早饭的。就在这时候，他的主人来了，急忙走向前去迎接这位重要的客人，并露出全部牙齿表示欢迎。
“我从没料想到会在这里见到您，”卡克先生帮助他从马上下来的时候，说道，“这是我的日程表中一个不同寻常的日子！对于像您这样的人来说，没有什么场合是十分特殊的，因为您可以做任何事情；可是对于像我这样的人来说，情况就完全不同了。”
“您在这里有一个很雅致的地方呢，卡克，”董贝先生态度谦和地在草坪上停下脚步，向四周看看。
“承蒙您夸奖了，”卡克先生回答道，“谢谢您。”
“真的，”董贝先生以他居高临下的恩主的态度说道，“任何人都会这样说。就实际情况来说，这是个很宽敞、设计安排得很好的地方——十分优雅。”
“就实际情况来说，”卡克先生露出自我贬损的神态，回答道，“它确实还够不上那样的评价。唔，我们对它已说得够多的了；不过承蒙您称赞它，我还是谢谢您。请您进去好吗？”
董贝先生走进房屋里面，注意到（他有理由注意到）房间完美的布置和陈列在各处的许多舒适的家具和摆设。卡克先生故意装出一副谦恭的态度，露出尊敬的微笑，对待这注意，并说，他理解这注意所包含着的关怀体贴的意义，并重视它；不过这茅舍尽管简陋，可是对于像他这样地位的人来说确实是够好的了，也许像他这样的人还不配占有它呢。
“不过对于像您这样身份高贵的人来说，它看来确实比实际情况要好一些，”他把他虚伪的嘴巴张开到最宽阔的程度，说道，“就像君主在乞丐的生活中发现一些有趣的东西一样。”
他一边说，一边向董贝先生敏锐地看了一眼和敏锐地微笑了一下；当董贝先生昂首挺胸地站在壁炉前面，摆出他的二把手经常摹仿的姿势，环视挂在四周墙上的图画时，他向他更敏锐地看了一眼和更敏锐地微笑了一下。当董贝先生冷淡的眼光在这些图画上匆匆地扫过的时候，卡克先生的机警的眼光紧紧伴随着他的眼光，确切地留意它投向哪里，看到的是什么。当它停留在一张图画上的时候，卡克似乎屏住了呼吸；他斜着眼的跟踪是那么像猫，那么警惕，可是他的上司的眼光就像从其他的图画上滑过一样，从这张画上滑过去了，看来它在他心中并不比其他图画留下更深刻的印象。
卡克看着它——这就是那张像伊迪丝的图画——，仿佛那是个活着的人似的；他脸上露出恶意的笑容，仿佛是在向这张图画致意，但实际上却是在嘲笑这位毫无猜疑地站在他身旁的伟大人物。早饭很快就摆到桌上，他请董贝先生坐到背对着这张图画的椅子中，他自己则像平时一样，在对着它的位子中坐下。
董贝先生甚至比往常更为严肃，而且十分沉默。那只鹦鹉在华丽的笼子中的镀金的圆环中来回摇荡，徒劳地企图吸引人们对她的注意，因为卡克先生专心致志地注视着他的主人，顾不到注意她了，而那位客人则出神地陷在沉思之中；他越过硬挺的领饰呆呆地——如果不说是愁眉不展地——看着，眼睛没有从桌布上抬起。至于在桌旁侍候的罗布，他正聚精会神地注视着他的主人，所以脑子里根本没有闪过这样的念头：这位客人就是那位他在童年时代、曾经作为他们家庭的健康证明被抱到他面前的伟大的贵人；由于他的恩惠，他还曾经穿上那条皮短裤。
“请允许我问一下，”卡克突然问道，“董贝夫人身体好吧？”
他发问的时候，谄媚地把身子往前弯过去，手支托着下巴，眼睛向上望着图画，仿佛对它说，“喂，您看，我是怎样引导他的！”
董贝先生脸红了，回答道：
“董贝夫人身体很好。卡克，您提醒我有些话想跟您谈一谈。”
“罗布，你可以走了，”他的主人说道，罗布听到他温和的声调吃了一惊，然后离开了，但他的眼睛直到最后一秒钟还注视着他的恩人。“您当然不记得这孩子了？”当夹杂在他们当中的磨工走开以后，他的主人又补问了一句。
“不记得了，”董贝先生庄严地、漠不关心地说道。
“像您这样的人是不大会记得他的。简直不可能记得。”卡克低声说道，“可是他是您雇用过的一位奶妈的孩子。也许您记得，您曾慷慨地为他的教育提供过帮助吧？”
“就是那个孩子吗？”董贝先生皱了一下眉头，说道，“我相信，他并没有为他所受的教育增光。”
“是的，我担心，他是个一无可取的年轻人，”卡克耸耸肩膀，回答道。“他有那样的名声。可是实际情况是，我还是让他来给我服务了，因为他找不到其他职业，就认为（我敢说，这是他家里教给他的），他可以向您提出什么要求似的，于是不断设法尾随着您，向您提出请求。虽然我跟您商定的、双方承认的关系仅仅是属于业务性质的，可是我对属于您的一切事情仍然具有那种自发的兴趣，因此——”
他又停住，仿佛想看一看他把董贝先生是不是已经引得够远了，然后，他又用手支托着下巴，斜眼看着那张图画。
“卡克，”董贝先生说道，“我知道您并不限制您的——”
“服务，”请他吃早饭的主人笑嘻嘻地提示道。
“不，我宁肯说是您的关心，”董贝先生说道；他很清楚，他这么说是给了他一个很大的讨他喜欢的恭维。“我知道，您并不把您的关心局限于我们之间纯粹的业务关系方面。您刚才提到的那件小事就是个很好的例子，说明您关心我的感情、希望和失望。我感谢您，卡克。”
卡克先生慢慢地低下头，很轻地搓着手，仿佛他担心任何动作都会打断董贝先生的充满信任的话语似的。
“您提到这一点正是时候，”董贝先生略略迟疑之后，说道，“因为您为我正想开头和您谈的问题铺平了道路，并且提醒我，这并不涉及我们两人之间要建立什么完全新的关系，虽然就我这方面来说，我对您的信任可能会超过我过去任何时候——”
“所赏赐给我的光荣，”卡克提示道，一面又低下头去：“我不想对您说，我是多么荣幸；因为像您这样的人十分了解，在您的权力范围之内您能随意授予人们多大的光荣。”
“董贝夫人和我本人，”董贝先生用威严的、克己的态度听完这些恭维的话之后说道，“在一些问题上没有取得十分一致的意见。我们彼此好像还不了解。董贝夫人还应当学习一些东西。”
“董贝夫人具有许多珍贵的吸引人的品质，毫无疑问，过去一向习惯于接受人们的奉承，”这位花言巧语、狡黠圆滑的人说道，他对他主人的眼色和声调的最微小的地方都是注意观察的。“但是在具有爱情、责任感和尊敬的家庭里，由于这种原因所产生的任何小小的误会是很快就会消除的。”
董贝先生的思想不由得飞回到他妻子在化妆室里，不容违抗地用手指向门口时看着他的那张脸；当他回忆起在这张脸上所显示出的爱情、责任感和尊敬时，他清楚地感到血涌到了他自己的脸上；那双注意观察的眼睛也同样清楚地看到了这一点。
“在斯丘顿夫人逝世前，”他继续说道，“董贝夫人曾和我对我不满的原因进行过一些讨论；那天晚上您在我们的——在我的家里亲眼见到董贝夫人和我之间发生的情形，因此您对我们的讨论将会有一个大概的了解。”
“我正非常悔恨当时我在场呢！”笑嘻嘻的卡克说道。“虽然像我这样地位的人得到您亲密无间的关注——尽管我是不配得到这种关注的，而您则可以不失身份地做任何您认为合适的事情——必然一定会感到自豪，虽然在董贝夫人没有姓您的姓、成为地位崇高的夫人之前我就荣幸地被较早地介绍给她认识，可是说实话，那天晚上会有这样特殊的幸运落到我的身上，我几乎感到遗憾。”
不论什么人，在不论什么可能的情况下，会因为受到他的破格对待和恩惠而感到遗憾，这是董贝先生不能理解的心理现象。因此，他十分尊严地问道：“真的吗？为什么呢，卡克？”
“董贝夫人本来对我就从没有抱有多大的好感，”他亲信的助手回答道，“像我这样地位的人也不能指望从一位生性高傲的夫人那里得到好感（这种高傲对她来说是完全合适的），我担心，董贝夫人可能不会轻易地原谅我无罪地参加了那一次谈话。您一定记得，您的不满不是一件小事，而有第三者在场——”
“卡克，”董贝先生傲慢地说道，“我认为，首先应当考虑的是我吧？”
“啊！对这还能有什么怀疑的呢？”另一位就像一个承认尽人皆知的、无可争辩的事实的人那样不耐烦地回答道。
“我想，在涉及我们两个人的问题的时候，董贝夫人应当成为次要的考虑，”董贝先生说道，“是不是这样？”
“是不是这样？”卡克回答道，“您不是比任何人都明白，用不着问这个问题吗？”
“卡克，”董贝先生说道，“您虽然由于招致董贝夫人的不满而感到遗憾，但是您由于保持我的信任与好感是会感到高兴的，因为，我希望，您的高兴可能几乎会抵消您的遗憾。”
“我觉得，我已不幸地招致了这种不满，”卡克回答道，“董贝夫人已向您表示过了吧？”
“董贝夫人表示过各种意见，”董贝先生用威严的、冷淡的、漠不关心的语气说道，“我没有参与这些意见，也不打算讨论或回忆它们。我已跟您说过，不久以前我向董贝夫人提出一些意见，要求她在家庭生活中保持应有的尊敬与顺从，这些意见我认为是有必要坚持的。我没有说服董贝夫人，为了她自己的安宁、幸福以及我的尊严，她有必要立即改变她在这些方面的行为；我告诉董贝夫人，如果我认为有必要再次提出反对或抗议的时候，那么我将通过您，我亲信的助手，来转达我的意见。”
卡克在向他投出的眼光中，还夹杂着一道邪恶的眼光，越过他的头顶，像闪电一般落在图画上面。
“现在，卡克，”董贝先生说道，“我毫不迟疑地跟您说，我一定要实现我的主张。我不是个被随意小看的人，董贝夫人必须懂得，我的意志就是法律，在我的全部生活规则中我不允许有一个例外。我想劳驾您去执行这项使命。既然这是我的委托，我希望它对您并不是不可接受的，不管您会礼貌地表示什么遗憾——对于这一点，我代表董贝夫人向您表示感谢；我相信，您一定肯帮忙，像完成其他各项任务一样，准确地去完成它。”
“您知道，”卡克先生说道，“您只需命令我就行了。”
“我知道，”董贝先生威风凛凛地表示同意，说道，“我只需命令您就行了。我认为有必要采取另一些步骤。董贝夫人在许多方面无疑是赋有高超资质的一位夫人——”
“甚至对您的选择也是增添了光彩的，”卡克先生讨好地露出牙齿，说道。
“是的，如果您喜欢采用这样的词句来表达的话，”董贝先生用庄严的语气说道，“那么现在我并不认为董贝夫人的所作所为是对这种选择增添了光彩。董贝夫人具有一种对抗的脾气，这是必须根除，必须克服的。董贝夫人好像还不懂得，”董贝先生有力地说道，“对抗我这种想法本身就是骇人听闻和荒谬绝伦的。”
“我们在城里的人对您了解得更清楚，”卡克先生咧着嘴，满脸堆着笑容。
“您比较了解我，”董贝先生说道，“我希望这样。不过我确实还是应当替董贝夫人说句公道话，不管她后来的行为（跟以前没有变化）可能跟这如何不相一致，但在我提到的那一次，我有些严厉地向她表示了我的不赞成和决心之后，我的劝告还是产生了强有力的效果。”董贝先生极为高傲、庄严地说了这些话。“因此，卡克，我想劳驾您以我的名义通知董贝夫人，我必须提醒她记着我们以前的谈话，因为我有些惊奇，为什么它至今还没有产生应有的效果。我必须坚持她按照我在这次谈话中向她发出的命令来改正她的行为。我对她的行为不满意。我对它很不满意。如果她缺乏健全的思想和正当的感情，不能像第一位董贝夫人那样按照我的愿望行事的话（我想，我可以补充一句，任何女士处在她那种地位都会像第一位董贝夫人那样做的），那么我将会很不愉快地不得不通过您向她转达使她更不愉快、更明显无误的指示了。”
“第一位董贝夫人过得很幸福，”卡克说道。
“第一位董贝夫人有极健全的思想和很正确的感情，”董贝先生抱着对死者高尚地表示宽容的态度说道。
“您认为董贝小姐像她母亲吗？”卡克问道。
董贝先生的脸色迅速地、可怕地改变了。深得他信任的助手敏锐地注意到这一点。
“我提到一个令人痛苦的话题了，”他用温顺的、遗憾的声调说道，这声调跟他的怀着渴望的眼睛是不相协调的。“请原谅我。我所怀有的兴趣使我忘记这可能引起的联想了。请原谅我。”
可是不管他说些什么，他的热切的眼睛仍旧像先前一样密切地细细观察着董贝先生的忧闷不乐的脸孔；然后他向那张图画投了一道奇怪的、扬扬得意的眼光，好像请求她来当见证人，看他怎样又重新引导他，并看又会发生些什么事情。
“卡克，”董贝先生向桌子上这里看看，那里看看，张开更加苍白的嘴唇，用有些改变了的和更加急促的说道：
“没有什么您需要道歉的理由。您误会了。联想是由于眼前发生的事情而引起的，并不是像您所猜想，是由于任何回忆而引起的。我不赞成董贝夫人对待我女儿的态度。”
“请原谅，”卡克先生说道，“我不很理解。”
“那就请理解吧，”董贝先生回答道，“您可以——不，您必须向董贝夫人转达我对这件事的反对意见。请您告诉她，她向我女儿显示的热爱，使我感到不愉快。这种热爱很可能引起人们的注意。这很可能促使人们把董贝夫人跟我女儿的关系和董贝夫人跟我的关系加以对比。劳驾您让董贝夫人清楚地知道，我反对这一点。我期望她立即尊重我的反对意见。董贝夫人可能是真心真意热爱她，也可能这只是她的一种古怪脾气，也可能她是要反对我；但不论是什么情况，我都反对这一点。如果董贝夫人是真心真意热爱她的话，那么她就更应当高高兴兴、毫不勉强地停止这样做，因为她的任何这种显示对我的女儿都没有什么益处。如果我的妻子除了对我正当地表示顺从外，还有多余的温柔与关怀，那么她也许就可以随自己的心意，爱赏锡给谁就赏赐给谁；但我首先要求的是顺从！卡克，”董贝先生抑制一下他说这些话时的不寻常的激动情绪，恢复了他为维护他的崇高身份所习惯采用的声调，说道，“烦请您务必不要忘记或忽略这一点，而应当把它作为您所接受的指示中的很重要的部分。”
卡克先生点了点头，从桌子旁边站起来，沉思地站在壁炉前面，并用手支托着光滑的下巴，从上往下看着董贝先生；那副阴险狡猾的样子就像是那半人半兽的猿猴雕刻，或者像是古老水落管上斜眼瞅着的脸孔。董贝先生逐渐恢复了镇静，或者由于意识到自己的高贵身份而使激动的情绪冷静下来，坐在那里，变得生硬呆板，并看着鹦鹉在大结婚戒指中来回摇荡。
“请原谅，”卡克沉默了一些时候，忽然又坐到椅子中，并把它拉到董贝先生椅子的对面，说道，“可是请让我弄明白，董贝夫人知道您可能利用我，向她转达您对她的不满吗？”
“是的，”董贝先生回答道，“我已经这样说过了。”
“是的？”卡克先生很快地回答道，“可是为什么呢？”
“为什么！”董贝先生还是没有迟疑地重复道，“因为我告诉她了。”
“唔，”卡克先生回答道，“可是您为什么告诉她呢？您知道，”他微笑了一下，继续说道，一边把他天鹅绒一般柔软的手轻轻地放在董贝先生的胳膊上，就像一只猫掩盖它尖利的脚爪时会这样做的一样；“如果我完全明白您心中的想法，我就可能对您更有用，并有幸更有效地为您服务。我想我已明白了。我不能荣幸地得到董贝夫人的好感。就我的地位来说，我也没有理由指望得到它；但是我想知道，事实是不是就是这样，我是不是就这样接受它？”
“事实可能是这样，”董贝先生说道。
“因此，”卡克继续说道，“您通过我向董贝夫人转达您的指示，一定会使这位夫人感到格外讨厌的吧？”
“我认为，”董贝先生保持着傲慢而沉着的态度，又感到几分为难地说道，“董贝夫人怎样看这个问题是一回事，您和我怎样看这个问题是另一回事，彼此没有关系，卡克。不过情况可能就像您所说的那样。”
“请原谅，不知道我是不是误解了您的意思，”卡克说道，“我想您发现这是压低董贝夫人高傲的一种合适的办法——我在这里使用了高傲这个字眼，用来表明一种在适当的限度内能成为一位美貌和才能出众的夫人的一种装饰品并使她增光的品质——，而且，不说是惩罚她，这也是迫使她顺从的一种合适的办法，而顺从正是您自然地和正当地要求她做到的。不知道我这样理解对吗？”
“卡克，您知道，”董贝先生说道，&ldqu
Chapter 43
The Watches of the Night

Florence, long since awakened from her dream, mournfully observed the estrangement between her father and Edith, and saw it widen more and more, and knew that there was greater bitterness between them every day. Each day's added knowledge deepened the shade upon her love and hope, roused up the old sorrow that had slumbered for a little time, and made it even heavier to bear than it had been before.
It had been hard - how hard may none but Florence ever know! - to have the natural affection of a true and earnest nature turned to agony; and slight, or stern repulse, substituted for the tenderest protection and the dearest care. It had been hard to feel in her deep heart what she had felt, and never know the happiness of one touch of response. But it was much more hard to be compelled to doubt either her father or Edith, so affectionate and dear to her, and to think of her love for each of them, by turns, with fear, distrust, and wonder.
Yet Florence now began to do so; and the doing of it was a task imposed upon her by the very purity of her soul, as one she could not fly from. She saw her father cold and obdurate to Edith, as to her; hard, inflexible, unyielding. Could it be, she asked herself with starting tears, that her own dear mother had been made unhappy by such treatment, and had pined away and died? Then she would think how proud and stately Edith was to everyone but her, with what disdain she treated him, how distantly she kept apart from him, and what she had said on the night when they came home; and quickly it would come on Florence, almost as a crime, that she loved one who was set in opposition to her father, and that her father knowing of it, must think of her in his solitary room as the unnatural child who added this wrong to the old fault, so much wept for, of never having won his fatherly affection from her birth. The next kind word from Edith, the next kind glance, would shake these thoughts again, and make them seem like black ingratitude; for who but she had cheered the drooping heart of Florence, so lonely and so hurt, and been its best of comforters! Thus, with her gentle nature yearning to them both, feeling for the misery of both, and whispering doubts of her own duty to both, Florence in her wider and expanded love, and by the side of Edith, endured more than when she had hoarded up her undivided secret in the mournful house, and her beautiful Mama had never dawned upon it.
One exquisite unhappiness that would have far outweighed this, Florence was spared. She never had the least suspicion that Edith by her tenderness for her widened the separation from her father, or gave him new cause of dislike. If Florence had conceived the possIbility of such an effect being wrought by such a cause, what grief she would have felt, what sacrifice she would have tried to make, poor loving girl, how fast and sure her quiet passage might have been beneath it to the presence of that higher Father who does not reject his children's love, or spurn their tried and broken hearts, Heaven knows! But it was otherwise, and that was well.
No word was ever spoken between Florence and Edith now, on these subjects. Edith had said there ought to be between them, in that wise, a division and a silence like the grave itself: and Florence felt she was right'
In this state of affairs her father was brought home, suffering and disabled; and gloomily retired to his own rooms, where he was tended by servants, not approached by Edith, and had no friend or companion but Mr Carker, who withdrew near midnight.
'And nice company he is, Miss Floy,' said Susan Nipper. 'Oh, he's a precious piece of goods! If ever he wants a character don't let him come to me whatever he does, that's all I tell him.'
'Dear Susan,' urged Florence, 'don't!'
'Oh, it's very well to say "don't" Miss Floy,' returned the Nipper, much exasperated; 'but raly begging your pardon we're coming to such passes that it turns all the blood in a person's body into pins and needles, with their pints all ways. Don't mistake me, Miss Floy, I don't mean nothing again your ma-in-law who has always treated me as a lady should though she is rather high I must say not that I have any right to object to that particular, but when we come to Mrs Pipchinses and having them put over us and keeping guard at your Pa's door like crocodiles (only make us thankful that they lay no eggs!) we are a growing too outrageous!'
'Papa thinks well of Mrs Pipchin, Susan,' returned Florence, 'and has a right to choose his housekeeper, you know. Pray don't!'
'Well Miss Floy,' returned the Nipper, 'when you say don't, I never do I hope but Mrs Pipchin acts like early gooseberries upon me Miss, and nothing less.'
Susan was unusually emphatic and destitute of punctuation in her discourse on this night, which was the night of Mr Dombey's being brought home, because, having been sent downstairs by Florence to inquire after him, she had been obliged to deliver her message to her mortal enemy Mrs Pipchin; who, without carrying it in to Mr Dombey, had taken upon herself to return what Miss Nipper called a huffish answer, on her own responsibility. This, Susan Nipper construed into presumption on the part of that exemplary sufferer by the Peruvian mines, and a deed of disparagement upon her young lady, that was not to be forgiven; and so far her emphatic state was special. But she had been in a condition of greatly increased suspicion and distrust, ever since the marriage; for, like most persons of her quality of mind, who form a strong and sincere attachment to one in the different station which Florence occupied, Susan was very jealous, and her jealousy naturally attached to Edith, who divided her old empire, and came between them. Proud and glad as Susan Nipper truly was, that her young mistress should be advanced towards her proper place in the scene of her old neglect, and that she should have her father's handsome wife for her companion and protectress, she could not relinquish any part of her own dominion to the handsome wife, without a grudge and a vague feeling of ill-will, for which she did not fail to find a disinterested justification in her sharp perception of the pride and passion of the lady's character. From the background to which she had necessarily retired somewhat, since the marriage, Miss Nipper looked on, therefore, at domestic affairs in general, with a resolute conviction that no good would come of Mrs Dombey: always being very careful to publish on all possible occasions, that she had nothing to say against her.
'Susan,' said Florence, who was sitting thoughtfully at her table, 'it is very late. I shall want nothing more to-night.'
'Ah, Miss Floy!' returned the Nipper, 'I'm sure I often wish for them old times when I sat up with you hours later than this and fell asleep through being tired out when you was as broad awake as spectacles, but you've ma's-in-law to come and sit with you now Miss Floy and I'm thankful for it I'm sure. I've not a word to say against 'em.'
'I shall not forget who was my old companion when I had none, Susan,' returned Florence, gently, 'never!' And looking up, she put her arm round the neck of her humble friend, drew her face down to hers, and bidding her good-night, kissed it; which so mollified Miss Nipper, that she fell a sobbing.
'Now my dear Miss Floy, said Susan, 'let me go downstairs again and see how your Pa is, I know you're wretched about him, do let me go downstairs again and knock at his door my own self.'
'No,' said Florence, 'go to bed. We shall hear more in the morning. I will inquire myself in the morning. Mama has been down, I daresay;' Florence blushed, for she had no such hope; 'or is there now, perhaps. Good-night!'
Susan was too much softened to express her private opinion on the probability of Mrs Dombey's being in attendance on her husband, and silently withdrew. Florence left alone, soon hid her head upon her hands as she had often done in other days, and did not restrain the tears from coursing down her face. The misery of this domestic discord and unhappiness; the withered hope she cherished now, if hope it could be called, of ever being taken to her father's heart; her doubts and fears between the two; the yearning of her innocent breast to both; the heavy disappointment and regret of such an end as this, to what had been a vision of bright hope and promise to her; all crowded on her mind and made her tears flow fast. Her mother and her brother dead, her father unmoved towards her, Edith opposed to him and casting him away, but loving her, and loved by her, it seemed as if her affection could never prosper, rest where it would. That weak thought was soon hushed, but the thoughts in which it had arisen were too true and strong to be dismissed with it; and they made the night desolate.
Among such reflections there rose up, as there had risen up all day, the image of her father, wounded and in pain, alone in his own room, untended by those who should be nearest to him, and passing the tardy hours in lonely suffering. A frightened thought which made her start and clasp her hands - though it was not a new one in her mind - that he might die, and never see her or pronounce her name, thrilled her whole frame. In her agitation she thought, and trembled while she thought, of once more stealing downstairs, and venturing to his door.
She listened at her own. The house was quiet, and all the lights were out. It was a long, long time, she thought, since she used to make her nightly pilgrimages to his door! It was a long, long time, she tried to think, since she had entered his room at midnight, and he had led her back to the stair-foot!
With the same child's heart within her, as of old: even with the child's sweet timid eyes and clustering hair: Florence, as strange to her father in her early maiden bloom, as in her nursery time, crept down the staircase listening as she went, and drew near to his room. No one was stirring in the house. The door was partly open to admit air; and all was so still within, that she could hear the burning of the fire, and count the ticking of the clock that stood upon the chimney-piece.
She looked in. In that room, the housekeeper wrapped in a blanket was fast asleep in an easy chair before the fire. The doors between it and the next were partly closed, and a screen was drawn before them; but there was a light there, and it shone upon the cornice of his bed. All was so very still that she could hear from his breathing that he was asleep. This gave her courage to pass round the screen, and look into his chamber.
It was as great a start to come upon his sleeping face as if she had not expected to see it. Florence stood arrested on the spot, and if he had awakened then, must have remained there.
There was a cut upon his forehead, and they had been wetting his hair, which lay bedabbled and entangled on the pillow. One of his arms, resting outside the bed, was bandaged up, and he was very white. But it was not this, that after the first quick glance, and first assurance of his sleeping quietly, held Florence rooted to the ground. It was something very different from this, and more than this, that made him look so solemn in her eye
She had never seen his face in all her life, but there had been upon it - or she fancied so - some disturbing consciousness of her. She had never seen his face in all her life, but hope had sunk within her, and her timid glance had dropped before its stern, unloving, and repelling harshness. As she looked upon it now, she saw it, for the first time, free from the cloud that had darkened her childhood. Calm, tranquil night was reigning in its stead. He might have gone to sleep, for anything she saw there, blessing her.
Awake, unkind father! Awake, now, sullen man! The time is flitting by; the hour is coming with an angry tread. Awake!
There was no change upon his face; and as she watched it, awfully, its motionless reponse recalled the faces that were gone. So they looked, so would he; so she, his weeping child, who should say when! so all the world of love and hatred and indifference around them! When that time should come, it would not be the heavier to him, for this that she was going to do; and it might fall something lighter upon her.
She stole close to the bed, and drawing in her breath, bent down, and softly kissed him on the face, and laid her own for one brief moment by its side, and put the arm, with which she dared not touch him, round about him on the pillow.
Awake, doomed man, while she is near! The time is flitting by; the hour is coming with an angry tread; its foot is in the house. Awake!
In her mind, she prayed to God to bless her father, and to soften him towards her, if it might be so; and if not, to forgive him if he was wrong, and pardon her the prayer which almost seemed impiety. And doing so, and looking back at him with blinded eyes, and stealing timidly away, passed out of his room, and crossed the other, and was gone.
He may sleep on now. He may sleep on while he may. But let him look for that slight figure when he wakes, and find it near him when the hour is come!
Sad and grieving was the heart of Florence, as she crept upstairs. The quiet house had grown more dismal since she came down. The sleep she had been looking on, in the dead of night, had the solemnity to her of death and life in one. The secrecy and silence of her own proceeding made the night secret, silent, and oppressive. She felt unwilling, almost unable, to go on to her own chamber; and turnIng into the drawing-rooms, where the clouded moon was shining through the blinds, looked out into the empty streets.
The wind was blowing drearily. The lamps looked pale, and shook as if they were cold. There was a distant glimmer of something that was not quite darkness, rather than of light, in the sky; and foreboding night was shivering and restless, as the dying are who make a troubled end. Florence remembered how, as a watcher, by a sick-bed, she had noted this bleak time, and felt its influence, as if in some hidden natural antipathy to it; and now it was very, very gloomy.
Her Mama had not come to her room that night, which was one cause of her having sat late out of her bed. In her general uneasiness, no less than in her ardent longing to have somebody to speak to, and to break the spell of gloom and silence, Florence directed her steps towards the chamber where she slept.
The door was not fastened within, and yielded smoothly to her hesitating hand. She was surprised to find a bright light burning; still more surprised, on looking in, to see that her Mama, but partially undressed, was sitting near the ashes of the fire, which had crumbled and dropped away. Her eyes were intently bent upon the air; and in their light, and in her face, and in her form, and in the grasp with which she held the elbows of her chair as if about to start up, Florence saw such fierce emotion that it terrified her.
'Mama!' she cried, 'what is the matter?'
Edith started; looking at her with such a strange dread in her face, that Florence was more frightened than before.
'Mama!' said Florence, hurriedly advancing. 'Dear Mama! what is the matter?'
'I have not been well,' said Edith, shaking, and still looking at her in the same strange way. 'I have had had dreams, my love.'
'And not yet been to bed, Mama?'
'No,' she returned. 'Half-waking dreams.'
Her features gradually softened; and suffering Florence to come closer to her, within her embrace, she said in a tender manner, 'But what does my bird do here? What does my bird do here?'
'I have been uneasy, Mama, in not seeing you to-night, and in not knowing how Papa was; and I - '
Florence stopped there, and said no more.
'Is it late?' asked Edith, fondly putting back the curls that mingled with her own dark hair, and strayed upon her face.
'Very late. Near day.'
'Near day!' she repeated in surprise.
'Dear Mama, what have you done to your hand?' said Florence.
Edith drew it suddenly away, and, for a moment, looked at her with the same strange dread (there was a sort of wild avoidance in it) as before; but she presently said, 'Nothing, nothing. A blow.' And then she said, 'My Florence!' and then her bosom heaved, and she was weeping passionately.
'Mama!' said Florence. 'Oh Mama, what can I do, what should I do, to make us happier? Is there anything?'
'Nothing,' she replied.
'Are you sure of that? Can it never be? If I speak now of what is in my thoughts, in spite of what we have agreed,' said Florence, 'you will not blame me, will you?'
'It is useless,' she replied, 'useless. I have told you, dear, that I have had bad dreams. Nothing can change them, or prevent them coming back.'
'I do not understand,' said Florence, gazing on her agitated face which seemed to darken as she looked.
'I have dreamed,' said Edith in a low voice, 'of a pride that is all powerless for good, all powerful for evil; of a pride that has been galled and goaded, through many shameful years, and has never recoiled except upon itself; a pride that has debased its owner with the consciousness of deep humiliation, and never helped its owner boldly to resent it or avoid it, or to say, "This shall not be!" a pride that, rightly guided, might have led perhaps to better things, but which, misdirected and perverted, like all else belonging to the same possessor, has been self-contempt, mere hardihood and ruin.'
She neither looked nor spoke to Florence now, but went on as if she were alone.
'I have dreamed,' she said, 'of such indifference and callousness, arising from this self-contempt; this wretched, inefficient, miserable pride; that it has gone on with listless steps even to the altar, yielding to the old, familiar, beckoning finger, - oh mother, oh mother! - while it spurned it; and willing to be hateful to itself for once and for all, rather than to be stung daily in some new form. Mean, poor thing!'
And now with gathering and darkening emotion, she looked as she had looked when Florence entered.
'And I have dreamed,' she said, 'that in a first late effort to achieve a purpose, it has been trodden on, and trodden down by a base foot, but turns and looks upon him. I have dreamed that it is wounded, hunted, set upon by dogs, but that it stands at hay, and will not yield; no, that it cannot if it would; but that it is urged on to hate
Her clenched hand tightened on the trembling arm she had in hers, and as she looked down on the alarmed and wondering face, frown subsided. 'Oh Florence!' she said, 'I think I have been nearly mad to-night!' and humbled her proud head upon her neck and wept again.
'Don't leave me! be near me! I have no hope but in you! These words she said a score of times.
Soon she grew calmer, and was full of pity for the tears of Florence, and for her waking at such untimely hours. And the day now dawning, with folded her in her arms and laid her down upon her bed, and, not lying down herself, sat by her, and bade her try to sleep.
'For you are weary, dearest, and unhappy, and should rest.'
'I am indeed unhappy, dear Mama, tonight,' said Florence. 'But you are weary and unhappy, too.'
'Not when you lie asleep so near me, sweet.'
They kissed each other, and Florence, worn out, gradually fell into a gentle slumber; but as her eyes closed on the face beside her, it was so sad to think upon the face downstairs, that her hand drew closer to Edith for some comfort; yet, even in the act, it faltered, lest it should be deserting him. So, in her sleep, she tried to reconcile the two together, and to show them that she loved them both, but could not do it, and her waking grief was part of her dreams.
Edith, sitting by, looked down at the dark eyelashes lying wet on the flushed cheeks, and looked with gentleness and pity, for she knew the truth. But no sleep hung upon her own eyes. As the day came on she still sat watching and waking, with the placid hand in hers, and sometimes whispered, as she looked at the hushed face, 'Be near me, Florence. I have no hope but in you!'
弗洛伦斯早就从迷梦中清醒过来，伤心地注视着她父亲和伊迪丝之间的疏远，看到他们之间的鸿沟愈来愈宽阔；并知道他们之间的痛苦逐日加深。每天增添的了解，加深了笼罩在她的爱与希望之上的阴影，并唤醒了入睡不久的旧日的悲哀，使它甚至比过去更为沉重了。
真诚的、恳切的、出乎天性的亲情变成了痛苦，冷淡的忽视或严厉的拒绝代替了亲切的保护与慈爱的关怀，这曾经是难受的——没有任何人，只有弗洛伦斯才知道这是多么难受！——在内心深处感受她曾经感受过的感情，而从来不曾享受过得到回答的幸福，这曾经是难受的。但是现在被迫地怀疑她的父亲或怀疑对她那么慈爱、亲切的伊迪丝，并怀着恐惧、不信任和纳闷的心情，交替地想着她对他们两人每个人的爱，这是更为难受的。
然而弗洛伦斯现在开始这样做了；这是她的纯洁的心灵强加给她的一项苦役，这是她所无法回避的。她看到父亲就像对待她一样，冷淡地、固执地对待伊迪丝，严酷无情，毫不妥协，决不让步。她含着眼泪问她自己：她的亲母亲是不是可能就是由于这样的对待而过着不幸福的生活，消瘦下去，最后死去的呢？然后她想到伊迪丝除了对她一个人之外，是多么高傲地、威严地对待每一个人，想到她是以多么轻蔑的态度对待他，她是多么远远地避开他，还想到她回家来的那天夜里所说过的话。弗洛伦斯突然间感到她犯了罪，因为她想到，她爱了一位反对她父亲的人；因为她想到，她父亲在寂寞的房间中知道这一点，一定会把她看成一个违反常情的女儿；这个女儿从出生之后从没有博得过他的父爱，如今除了这个她曾为它哭泣过多少次的老的过错之外，她又犯了一个新的错误了。下一次遇到伊迪丝时，她的第一句亲切的话语，第一道亲切的眼光又会动摇她的这些思想，使它们仿佛成为邪恶的忘恩负义；因为除了她，还有谁曾经使那么孤独那么痛苦的弗洛伦斯的消沉不振的心快活起来，成为它最好的安慰者呢？因此，弗洛伦斯现在不断地向往着他们两人，感受着他们两人的痛苦，暗中怀疑着她对他们两人所负的责任；在这样的情况下，当她怀着更宽广的、更扩展的爱，坐在伊迪丝的身旁时，她忍受着的痛苦要比过去她把她整个的秘密保藏在她悲哀的住宅中、她美丽的妈妈还没有到这里来时更大。
一个远远超过这个痛苦的非常的不幸，弗洛伦斯幸免了。她从来不曾怀疑过：伊迪丝对她的亲热会扩大她和她父亲之间的距离，或者会给他提供讨厌她的新的理由。如果弗洛伦斯设想过这样的可能性的话，那么她将会感到什么样的悲痛，她将会设法作出什么样的牺牲，可爱而又可怜的女孩子，她将会多么迅速、多么满怀信心地平平静静地走到那位更加崇高的父亲①前面去（这位父亲是不会拒绝他的孩子们的爱的，是不会摒弃他们的经过考验的、破碎了的心的），这一切只有上天才知道！可是情形并不是这样的，这很好。
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①指上帝。
现在弗洛伦斯与伊迪丝在这些问题上一句话也没有交谈过。伊迪丝曾经说过，在这方面，在她们之间应当有一道像坟墓一般的深沟和沉默；弗洛伦斯觉得她是对的。
就是在这样的情况下，她的父亲被抬回家来的；他忍受着痛苦，身体失去了行动的能力，忧闷不乐地隐居在他自己的房间中；仆人们在那里服侍他，但伊迪丝却没有到那里去看望过他。除了卡克先生之外，他没有别的朋友或伴侣。卡克先生在将近午夜的时候离开了。
“他是一位好同伴，弗洛伊小姐，”苏珊•尼珀说道，“啊，他是个了不起的宝贝！可是如果他什么时候需要一份品德推荐书的话，那么请他别来找我，这就是我要跟他说的一切。”
“亲爱的苏珊，”弗洛伦斯劝告道，“别说了！”
“啊，说声‘别说了’倒是很容易，弗洛伊小姐，”尼珀十分恼怒地回答道，“可是请原谅，我们的情况糟糕透顶，它使一个人身上的血都要变成带尖刺的别针和缝衣针了。请别误会我的意思，弗洛伊小姐，我这么说并不是要反对您的后妈，您的后妈总是以她贵夫人恰当的身份对待我，不过我必须说，她架子很大，虽然我没有权利反对这一点，但是当我们一提起这些个皮普钦太太，提起她们向我们发号施令，提起她们像鳄鱼一样在您爸爸门口守卫（谢天谢地她们幸好没有下蛋！），我们可真觉得太无法容忍下去了！”
“爸爸认为皮普钦太太不错，苏珊，”弗洛伦斯回答道，“您知道，他有权挑选他的女管家。请别说了！”
“唔弗洛伊小姐，”尼珀回答道，“当您对我说别说了，我希望我决不再说了，可是皮普钦太太对待我蛮横无礼，就像是没有成熟的醋栗①一样，小姐，一点也不差。”
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①没有成熟的醋栗：英国成语，指没有生活经验，浑然无知等。
在董贝先生抬回家来的这个夜晚，苏珊说话的时候异乎寻常地激动，比往常更缺少标点符号，这是因为当弗洛伦斯打发她下楼去打听他的健康情况时，她不得不向她不共戴天的敌人转达她的口讯；皮普钦太太没有把口讯捎进去让董贝先生知道，而是由她擅自作了一个尼珀姑娘称为傲慢无礼的回答。苏珊•尼珀把这解释为他们秘鲁矿井受害者的专横跋扈和一种不可饶恕的、轻视她小姐的行为；这可以部分说明她之所以格外激动的原因。不过自从董贝先生结婚以后，她的怀疑与不信任是大大地增大了，因为就像她那样性情的大多数人（她们对于一个像弗洛伦斯那样有着不同身份的人是怀着强烈的、真诚的感情的）一样，苏珊是很妒嫉的，她的妒嫉自然是针对着分割了她原先的帝国、插到她们中间来的伊迪丝。苏珊•尼珀看到她的年轻的女主人在她过去受到冷落的家中提高到适当的地位，看到她有她父亲漂亮的妻子当她的伴侣和保护人，这些确实使她感到自豪和高兴，可是她却不能把她的主权的任何一部分毫无怨恨、毫无敌意地让给这位漂亮的夫人，而且她还不难为这找到没有私心的正当理由，因为她敏锐地看出这位夫人的高傲与易怒的性格。所以，尼珀姑娘在董贝先生结婚以后不得不后退一步，从新的背景来观察家庭情况时，坚决相信：董贝夫人不会带来什么好处，可是她在一切可能的场合下总是很谨慎地表示，她没有什么反对她的话好说的。
“苏珊，”弗洛伦斯沉思地坐在桌旁，说道，“现在很晚了，今天我不再需要别的了。”
“唉，弗洛伊小姐，”尼珀回答道，“说实话，我时常希望回到过去的那段时光，那时候我跟您几个钟头坐在一起，坐得比现在还晚，我都累得睡着了，而您却像眼镜一样清醒，从来没有合过一下眼睛，但是现在您的后妈要来和您一起坐着了，弗洛伊小姐，说实话，我对这谢天谢地，我一句反对她的话也没有。”
“我不会忘记，在我没有朋友的时候，谁是我的老朋友，苏珊，”弗洛伦斯温柔地说道，“我永远也不会忘记！”然后她抬起眼睛，用胳膊搂着她的地位低微的朋友的脖子，把她的脸拉下来贴着她的脸，吻了吻，祝她晚安，这使尼珀姑娘感动得抽抽搭搭地哭了起来。
“我亲爱的弗洛伊小姐，”苏珊说道，“现在请允许我再下楼去看看您的爸爸怎样了，我知道您为他非常忧虑不安，请允许我再下楼去，我自己去敲他的门。”
“不，”弗洛伦斯说道，“睡觉去吧。明天早上我们将会听到更多的消息。到早上，我自己来打听。妈妈想必一直在楼下，”弗洛伦斯脸红了，因为她并没有抱这样的希望；“或者她可能现在就在那里。晚安！”
苏珊的心情已经变得十分温柔，所以对董贝夫人是不是可能在照料她的丈夫，她不想说出她的看法，于是就一声不响地离开了。当弗洛伦斯独自留下的时候，她立刻像在其他日子里时常做的那样，用手捂着脸，让眼泪任情地流下来。家庭不和睦和不幸福带来了不幸；她曾经怀着希望（如果这可以称为希望的话），有朝一日能赢得她父亲的喜爱，如今这希望已经破灭了；她对她父亲和伊迪丝之间的关系怀着怀疑与恐惧；她纯洁的心胸同时向往着他们两人；过去在她心中曾经展现过一幅光明的希望与前途的美景，如今这样的结局又在她心中产生了沉痛的失望与惋惜；所有这一切都一齐涌集到她的心头，使她的眼泪簌簌地流了下来。她的母亲和弟弟死了；她的父亲对她漠不关心；伊迪丝反对和抛弃她的父亲，但却爱她并被她所爱；她觉得，她的爱不论落在什么地方，似乎都不会给她带来幸福。这个淡弱的思想很快就被她压了下去，但是产生这个思想的其它思想是太真实、太强烈了，要驱除它们是不可能的，这些思想使夜变得凄凉。
她父亲的形象在这些思念中间出现了，就像整天都曾出现过的那样；他受了伤，身上疼痛，现在躺在他自己的房间里，在孤独寂寞中，忍受着痛苦，度过缓慢的时光；那些应该是对他最亲近的人却没有他身旁照料他。一个使她害怕的思想——他可能死去，再也看不到她，再也不喊她的名字了——使她惊惧，并使她把手紧紧握着；虽然它并不是第一次出现在她心中，但它使她浑身震颤。她在激动的心情中想到再一次偷偷地跑下楼去，并大胆地走到他的门口，当她想到这一点的时候，她哆嗦着。
她在她自己的房间门口听着。公馆里静悄悄的，所有的灯光都熄灭了。她想到，自从她过去常到他房门口去作夜间的参拜以来，到现在已经是很久很久的时间了！她又想到，自从她在半夜里走进他的房间，他把她送到楼梯底以来，到现在已经是很久很久的时间了！
弗洛伦斯现在是豆蔻年华的美丽少女，但是与她父亲仍和幼儿时代一样生疏；现在她怀着一颗和过去同样的孩子的心，甚至带着同一双孩子的可爱的、胆怯的眼睛，披着同样散开的头发，边走边听，偷偷地下了楼，走近他的房间。公馆中没有一个人在走动。为了让空气进去，房门半开着；房间里面十分寂静，她可以听到炉火的燃烧声，还可以数出壁炉架上时钟的嘀嗒声。
她往里面探望。房间里，女管家用一条毯子裹着身子，正在壁炉前的一张安乐椅里熟睡。隔壁房间的门半掩着，门前立着一座屏风；可是那里有灯光，照射在他的床的靠背上。一切都很寂静，她可以从他的呼吸声中知道他睡着了。这使她鼓起勇气，绕过屏风，往他的卧室里探望。
她看到那睡着的脸孔时，大大地吃了一惊，仿佛她事前没有预料到会看到它似的。弗洛伦斯被吸引住，就地站在那里一动不动；如果他这时醒过来的话，那么她也一定会继续站在那里的。
他的前额上有一个伤口，他们把他的头发沾湿了，头发肮脏、错乱地披散在枕头上。他的一条胳膊搁在被子外面，用绷带包扎着。他的脸色十分苍白。可是，弗洛伦斯迅速地看了他一眼，确信他安静地睡着之后，使她站着不动的，并不是这些景象。在她的眼中，使他看去那么庄严的，是与这完全不同、比这具有更多意义的某种东西。
她一生中没有一次看到他的脸时，他的脸上不是因为知道有她在跟前而表露出（或是她想象那样表露出）烦恼不安的神色的；她一生中没有一次看到他的脸时，她的希望不在心中消沉的；在他脸孔那严厉的、毫无爱意的、令人望而生畏的生硬神色面前，她的胆怯的眼光没有一次不低垂下来的。现在当她看着他的时候，她第一次看到他的脸上不再笼罩着那块使她的童年暗淡无光的阴云。寂静的、安宁的夜代替了它。她看到这脸上的一切表情，心想，他可能已睡去了，同时还在祝福她呢。
醒来吧，冷酷的父亲！醒来吧，怏怏不乐的人！时间正在飞逝，钟点正踏着怒气冲冲的步伐来临了。醒来吧！
他的脸上没有变化；当她怀着敬畏的心情注视着它的时候，它那一动不动的、宁静的神色使她回想起那些已经消逝了的脸孔。那些脸孔看去全都是这样平静的。他将会这样平静的；她——他的哭泣着的女儿——也将会这样平静的，谁知道是在什么时候！周围世界上一切爱，一切恨，一切冷淡，全都会这样平静的！如果她做了她正想要去做的事情，那么，当那个时候来到的时候，他将不会感到沉重；对她来说，那个时候也将会是比较轻松的。
她悄悄地走近床边，吸进一口气，同时弯下身子，轻轻地吻了吻他的脸，把她自己的脸在他的脸旁边贴了短短的片刻时间，然后用胳膊环抱着他的枕头，因为她不敢用胳膊去碰到他。
醒来吧，命中注定难免一死的人，当她就在近旁的时候！时间在飞逝，钟点正踏着怒气冲冲的步伐临近了；它的脚已跨进屋里来了。醒来吧！
她在心中祈祷上帝保佑他的父亲，如果可能的话，那么请让他对她的态度温和一些，否则，如果他错了的话，那么就请宽恕他，并原谅她作了这几乎好像是虔诚的祷告。她作了这样的祷告之后，泪眼模糊地回头看了看他，胆怯地、悄悄地向门口走去，走出了他的卧室，穿过另一间房间，离开了。
他现在可以继续睡下去。当他可以睡的时候，他可以继续睡下去。可是当他醒来的时候，让他找一下这个身材苗条的人儿吧！当钟点来到的时候，让他看到她在近旁吧！
当弗洛伦斯偷偷地上楼去的时候，她的心是悲哀和痛苦的。从她到楼下去的时候起，这座寂静的房屋变得更为凄凉了。在这死一般万籁无声的深夜里，在她眼里，她所观察着的睡眠同时具有死和生的庄严。由于她自己行动的神秘性和寂静无声，夜也变得神秘、寂静、沉闷。她不愿意，也感到几乎不能够回到她自己的卧室里去，所以她就转到客厅里；被云遮蔽了的月亮正透过百叶窗把亮光照射进来，她在那里望着外面空荡荡的街道。
风凄凉地吹着。路灯看去是暗淡的，仿佛由于寒冷而颤抖着。在遥远的天空中有什么东西在闪闪烁烁，乍明乍灭，那不是完全黑暗，但也不是亮光；预感凶险的夜颤抖着，辗转不安，就像垂死的人在作最后的挣扎一样。弗洛伦斯记起，当她过去守护在病床旁边的时候，她曾怎样注意到这个凄凉的时刻，并感觉到它的影响，仿佛暗暗地、自然而然地对它感到嫌恶似的。现在它是很令人沮丧的。
这天夜里，她的妈妈没有到她的房间里来，这是她在外面坐得很晚的一个原因。由于心情不安，也由于强烈地渴望跟什么人谈谈话，来摆脱郁闷和寂静气氛的压迫，她就朝着她妈妈睡觉的那个房间走去。
房门里面没有锁上，她的手迟疑不决地碰了碰它，它就平静地开了。她惊奇地看到里面还有明亮的灯光；当她往里面探望的时候，她更惊奇地看到她的妈妈只脱去了一部分衣服，正坐在即将熄灭的壁炉旁边；炉子里的煤火已化为碎屑和灰烬了。她的眼睛全神贯注地看着空中；在她的眼光中，在她的脸上，在她的身姿中，在她紧紧抓住椅臂、仿佛就要跳起来的动作中，流露出十分强烈的情绪，弗洛伦斯看见了感到恐怖。
“妈妈！”她喊道，“怎么了？”
伊迪丝吃了一惊；她脸上露出一种十分奇怪的恐惧的神色，望着弗洛伦斯，弗洛伦斯感到更加恐怖。
“妈妈！”弗洛伦斯急忙走上前去，说道，“亲爱的妈妈，怎么了？”
“我感到不舒服，”伊迪丝颤抖着说道，同时用同样奇怪的神色望着她，“我做了一些恶梦，我亲爱的。”
“还没有上床睡觉吗，妈妈？”
“没有，”她回答道，“我做了一些半醒着的梦。”
她的脸色逐渐和缓下来；她让弗洛伦斯更靠近一些，拥抱着她，亲切地对她说道。“可是我的小鸟在这里做什么呢？
我的小鸟在这里做什么呢？”
“妈妈，今天夜里我没有见到你，也不知道爸爸怎样了，心里感到不安；我——”
弗洛伦斯停住了，不再往下说。
“现在晚了吗？”伊迪丝问道，一边喜爱地把弗洛伦斯那些跟她自己的黑发混合在一起、落在她脸上的卷发梳理回去。
“很晚了，很快就要天亮了。”
“很快就要天亮了！”她惊奇地重复着。
“亲爱的妈妈，你的手怎么了？”弗洛伦斯问道。
伊迪丝迅速地把手缩回去，在片刻间又像先前一样露出那同样奇怪的恐惧的神色，望着她，在这神色中似乎有一种想要隐藏起来不让人看见的极为强烈的愿望，可是她立刻又说道，“没有什么，没有什么，打了一下打伤了。”接着她说道，“我的弗洛伦斯！”然后她胸脯起伏着，纵情大哭起来。
“妈妈！”弗洛伦斯说道，“啊妈妈，我能做什么，我应当做什么，使我们更幸福些？有什么事可以做的吗？”
“没有什么事好做，”她回答道。
“你真相信那样吗？难道这是永远做不到的吗？如果现在我不顾我们达成的协议，把我头脑里所想的说出来，你不会责怪我吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“这没有用，”她回答道，“没有用。我已经告诉你，亲爱的，我做了一些恶梦。没有什么能改变它们或防止它们重现。”
“我不明白，”弗洛伦斯注视着她的激动的脸，说道；当她望着它的时候，它似乎阴沉下来了。
“我梦见了一种高傲，”伊迪丝低声说道，“它对于善是毫无能力的，但对于恶却无所不能；我梦见了一种高傲，它在许多可耻的年月中被鼓励着和怂恿着；它从不退缩，除非是退缩到它本身；我梦见了一种高傲，它以一种深深的羞辱感贬损了它的主人，却从来不帮助它的主人大胆地去憎恨这种羞辱或者避开它，或者说，‘不要这样子！’我梦见了一种高傲，如果正确地引导它，它也许会导致较好的结果，可是如果引导错了或误用了，就像这同一位主人所拥有的其他品质的情形一样，那就只能是导致自我轻蔑、狂妄直至毁灭。”
现在她既不看着弗洛伦斯，也不对着她讲话，而是继续这样讲下去，仿佛房间里就只有她一个人一样。
“我梦见了从这种自我轻蔑所产生的和从这种不幸的、无能为力的、可怜的高傲所产生的这样一种漠不关心和冷酷无情，它使得它的主人迈着无精打采的步子，甚至走向圣坛，服从那古老的、熟悉的、指挥的手指——唉，妈妈呀，唉，妈妈呀！——虽然它实际上是唾弃这手指的；而且愿意一劳永逸地憎恨它自己，而不愿意每天忍受新形式的痛苦。卑贱的、可怜的人儿啊！”
这时，她就像弗洛伦斯刚进来的时候那样，怀着激动的、阴沉的情绪看着。
“我还梦见，”她说道，“这个人作了为时已晚的努力去达到一个目的时，她被一只卑劣的脚践踏下去，可是她抬起头来看看践踏她的人。我梦见，她被狗咬伤、追赶、袭击，可是当她被逼得走投无路的时候，她不愿意屈服；是的，只要她不想屈服，她就不能屈服，而是有什么东西驱策着她去恨他，反对他，向他挑战！”
她的紧握着的手把她怀中那只颤抖的胳膊抱得更紧；当她向下看到那张受惊的、困惑的脸时，她自己的脸色平静下来了。“啊，弗洛伦斯！”她说道，“我想我今天夜里近乎发疯了！”接着，她把高傲的头温顺地低垂到她的胸前，又哭了起来。
“不要离开我！在我的近旁吧！我没有别的希望，我的一切希望都寄托在你身上了！”
不久她安静下来一些，对流着眼泪和这么晚还没有去睡觉的弗洛伦斯充满了怜悯。这时天已破晓，伊迪丝用胳膊抱着她，把她放在自己的床上；她自己没有躺下，而是坐在她的身旁，叮嘱她睡去。
“我最亲爱的，你累了，又不快活，应当休息了。”
“亲爱的妈妈，今天夜里我确实不快活，”弗洛伦斯说道，“但是你也累了，也不快活。”
“亲爱的，当你这么挨近我的身旁睡去的时候，我就不会不快活了。”
她们相互接吻；弗洛伦斯精疲力竭，渐渐地进入了温柔的睡乡；但是当她的眼睛闭上，看不到在她身旁的那张脸的时候，她是多么悲伤地想到了楼下的那张脸，因此她把手往伊迪丝那里伸近一点，以便得到一些安慰；可是甚至在这样做的时候，她的动作也是迟疑不决的，唯恐这会背弃他。就这样，她在睡眠中设法使他们两人重新和好，并向他们表示，她同时爱他们两人，但是她不能做到这一点，她醒着时的痛苦成了她的梦的一部分。
伊迪丝坐在旁边，往下看着那乌黑的、潮湿的眼睫毛披垂在发红的脸颊上，而且是温柔地、怜悯地看着，因为她知道真情。可是她自己的眼睛还没有因为想睡而闭上。天愈来愈亮，她却仍旧坐在那里，手中拉着那只宁静的手，守护着，醒着；当她看着那张悄静无声的脸时，她不时低声说道，“在我的近旁吧，弗洛伦斯，我没有别的希望，我的一切希望都寄托在你身上了！”
Chapter 44
A Separation

With the day, though not so early as the sun, uprose Miss Susan Nipper. There was a heaviness in this young maiden's exceedingly sharp black eyes, that abated somewhat of their sparkling, and suggested - which was not their usual character - the possibility of their being sometimes shut. There was likewise a swollen look about them, as if they had been crying over-night. But the Nipper, so far from being cast down, was singularly brisk and bold, and all her energies appeared to be braced up for some great feat. This was noticeable even in her dress, which was much more tight and trim than usual; and in occasional twitches of her head as she went about the house, which were mightily expressive of determination.
In a word, she had formed a determination, and an aspiring one: it being nothing less than this - to penetrate to Mr Dombey's presence, and have speech of that gentleman alone. 'I have often said I would,' she remarked, in a threatening manner, to herself, that morning, with many twitches of her head, 'and now I will!'
Spurring herself on to the accomplishment of this desperate design, with a sharpness that was peculiar to herself, Susan Nipper haunted the hall and staircase during the whole forenoon, without finding a favourable opportunity for the assault. Not at all baffled by this discomfiture, which indeed had a stimulating effect, and put her on her mettle, she diminished nothing of her vigilance; and at last discovered, towards evening, that her sworn foe Mrs Pipchin, under pretence of having sat up all night, was dozing in her own room, and that Mr Dombey was lying on his sofa, unattended.
With a twitch - not of her head merely, this time, but of her whole self - the Nipper went on tiptoe to Mr Dombey's door, and knocked. 'Come in!' said Mr Dombey. Susan encouraged herself with a final twitch, and went in.
Mr Dombey, who was eyeing the fire, gave an amazed look at his visitor, and raised himself a little on his arm. The Nipper dropped a curtsey.
'What do you want?' said Mr Dombey.
'If you please, Sir, I wish to speak to you,' said Susan.
Mr Dombey moved his lips as if he were repeating the words, but he seemed so lost in astonishment at the presumption of the young woman as to be incapable of giving them utterance.
'I have been in your service, Sir,' said Susan Nipper, with her usual rapidity, 'now twelve 'year a waiting on Miss Floy my own young lady who couldn't speak plain when I first come here and I was old in this house when Mrs Richards was new, I may not be Meethosalem, but I am not a child in arms.'
Mr Dombey, raised upon his arm and looking at her, offered no comment on this preparatory statement of fact.
'There never was a dearer or a blesseder young lady than is my young lady, Sir,' said Susan, 'and I ought to know a great deal better than some for I have seen her in her grief and I have seen her in her joy (there's not been much of it) and I have seen her with her brother and I have seen her in her loneliness and some have never seen her, and I say to some and all - I do!' and here the black-eyed shook her head, and slightly stamped her foot; 'that she's the blessedest and dearest angel is Miss Floy that ever drew the breath of life, the more that I was torn to pieces Sir the more I'd say it though I may not be a Fox's Martyr..'
Mr Dombey turned yet paler than his fall had made him, with indignation and astonishment; and kept his eyes upon the speaker as if he accused them, and his ears too, of playing him false.
'No one could be anything but true and faithful to Miss Floy, Sir,' pursued Susan, 'and I take no merit for my service of twelve year, for I love her - yes, I say to some and all I do!' - and here the black-eyed shook her head again, and slightly stamped her foot again, and checked a sob; 'but true and faithful service gives me right to speak I hope, and speak I must and will now, right or wrong.
'What do you mean, woman?' said Mr Dombey, glaring at her. 'How do you dare?'
'What I mean, Sir, is to speak respectful and without offence, but out, and how I dare I know not but I do!'said Susan. 'Oh! you don't know my young lady Sir you don't indeed, you'd never know so little of her, if you did.'
Mr Dombey, in a fury, put his hand out for the bell-rope; but there was no bell-rope on that side of the fire, and he could not rise and cross to the other without assistance. The quick eye of the Nipper detected his helplessness immediately, and now, as she afterwards observed, she felt she had got him.
'Miss Floy,' said Susan Nipper, 'is the most devoted and most patient and most dutiful and beautiful of daughters, there ain't no gentleman, no Sir, though as great and rich as all the greatest and richest of England put together, but might be proud of her and would and ought. If he knew her value right, he'd rather lose his greatness and his fortune piece by piece and beg his way in rags from door to door, I say to some and all, he would!' cried Susan Nipper, bursting into tears, 'than bring the sorrow on her tender heart that I have seen it suffer in this house!'
'Woman,' cried Mr Dombey, 'leave the room.
'Begging your pardon, not even if I am to leave the situation, Sir,' replied the steadfast Nipper, 'in which I have been so many years and seen so much - although I hope you'd never have the heart to send me from Miss Floy for such a cause - will I go now till I have said the rest, I may not be a Indian widow Sir and I am not and I would not so become but if I once made up my mind to burn myself alive, I'd do it! And I've made my mind up to go on.'
Which was rendered no less clear by the expression of Susan Nipper's countenance, than by her words.
'There ain't a person in your service, Sir,' pursued the black-eyed, 'that has always stood more in awe of you than me and you may think how true it is when I make so bold as say that I have hundreds and hundreds of times thought of speaking to you and never been able to make my mind up to it till last night, but last night decided of me.'
Mr Dombey, in a paroxysm of rage, made another grasp at the bell-rope that was not there, and, in its absence, pulled his hair rather than nothing.
'I have seen,' said Susan Nipper, 'Miss Floy strive and strive when nothing but a child so sweet and patient that the best of women might have copied from her, I've seen her sitting nights together half the night through to help her delicate brother with his learning, I've seen her helping him and watching him at other times - some well know when - I've seen her, with no encouragement and no help, grow up to be a lady, thank God! that is the grace and pride of every company she goes in, and I've always seen her cruelly neglected and keenly feeling of it - I say to some and all, I have! - and never said one word, but ordering one's self lowly and reverently towards one's betters, is not to be a worshipper of graven images, and I will and must speak!'
'Is there anybody there?' cried Mr Dombey, calling out. 'Where are the men? where are the women? Is there no one there?'
'I left my dear young lady out of bed late last night,' said Susan, nothing checked, 'and I knew why, for you was ill Sir and she didn't know how ill and that was enough to make her wretched as I saw it did. I may not be a Peacock; but I have my eyes - and I sat up a little in my own room thinking she might be lonesome and might want me, and I saw her steal downstairs and come to this door as if it was a guilty thing to look at her own Pa, and then steal back again and go into them lonely drawing-rooms, a-crying so, that I could hardly bear to hear it. I can not bear to hear it,' said Susan Nipper, wiping her black eyes, and fixing them undauntingly on Mr Dombey's infuriated face. 'It's not the first time I have heard it, not by many and many a time you don't know your own daughter, Sir, you don't know what you're doing, Sir, I say to some and all,' cried Susan Nipper, in a final burst, 'that it's a sinful shame!'
'Why, hoity toity!' cried the voice of Mrs Pipchin, as the black bombazeen garments of that fair Peruvian Miner swept into the room. 'What's this, indeed?'
Susan favoured Mrs Pipchin with a look she had invented expressly for her when they first became acquainted, and resigned the reply to Mr Dombey.
'What's this?' repeated Mr Dombey, almost foaming. 'What's this, Madam? You who are at the head of this household, and bound to keep it in order, have reason to inquire. Do you know this woman?'
'I know very little good of her, Sir,' croaked Mrs Pipchin. 'How dare you come here, you hussy? Go along with you!'
But the inflexible Nipper, merely honouring Mrs Pipchin with another look, remained.
'Do you call it managing this establishment, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, 'to leave a person like this at liberty to come and talk to me! A gentleman - in his own house - in his own room - assailed with the impertinences of women-servants!'
'Well, Sir,' returned Mrs Pipchin, with vengeance in her hard grey eye, 'I exceedingly deplore it; nothing can be more irregular; nothing can be more out of all bounds and reason; but I regret to say, Sir, that this young woman is quite beyond control. She has been spoiled by Miss Dombey, and is amenable to nobody. You know you're not,' said Mrs Pipchin, sharply, and shaking her head at Susan Nipper. 'For shame, you hussy! Go along with you!'
'If you find people in my service who are not to be controlled, Mrs Pipchin,' said Mr Dombey, turning back towards the fire, 'you know what to do with them, I presume. You know what you are here for? Take her away!'
'Sir, I know what to do,' retorted Mrs Pipchin, 'and of course shall do it' Susan Nipper,' snapping her up particularly short, 'a month's warning from this hour.'
'Oh indeed!' cried Susan, loftily.
'Yes,' returned Mrs Pipchin, 'and don't smile at me, you minx, or I'll know the reason why! Go along with you this minute!'
'I intend to go this minute, you may rely upon it,' said the voluble Nipper. 'I have been in this house waiting on my young lady a dozen year and I won't stop in it one hour under notice from a person owning to the name of Pipchin trust me, Mrs P.'
'A good riddance of bad rubbish!' said that wrathful old lady. 'Get along with you, or I'll have you carried out!'
'My comfort is,' said Susan, looking back at Mr Dombey, 'that I have told a piece of truth this day which ought to have been told long before and can't be told too often or too plain and that no amount of Pipchinses - I hope the number of 'em mayn't be great' (here Mrs Pipchin uttered a very sharp 'Go along with you!' and Miss Nipper repeated the look) 'can unsay what I have said, though they gave a whole year full of warnings beginning at ten o'clock in the forenoon and never leaving off till twelve at night and died of the exhaustion which would be a Jubilee!'
With these words, Miss Nipper preceded her foe out of the room; and walking upstairs to her own apartments in great state, to the choking exasperation of the ireful Pipchin, sat down among her boxes and began to cry.
From this soft mood she was soon aroused, with a very wholesome and refreshing effect, by the voice of Mrs Pipchin outside the door.
'Does that bold-faced slut,' said the fell Pipchin, 'intend to take her warning, or does she not?'
Miss Nipper replied from within that the person described did not inhabit that part of the house, but that her name was Pipchin, and she was to be found in the housekeeper's room.
'You saucy baggage!' retorted Mrs Pipchin, rattling at the handle of the door. 'Go along with you this minute. Pack up your things directly! How dare you talk in this way to a gentle-woman who has seen better days?'
To which Miss Nipper rejoined from her castle, that she pitied the better days that had seen Mrs Pipchin; and that for her part she considered the worst days in the year to be about that lady's mark, except that they were much too good for her.
'But you needn't trouble yourself to make a noise at my door,' said Susan Nipper, 'nor to contaminate the key-hole with your eye, I'm packing up and going you may take your affidavit.'
The Dowager expressed her lively satisfaction at this intelligence, and with some general opinions upon young hussies as a race, and especially upon their demerits after being spoiled by Miss Dombey, withdrew to prepare the Nipper~s wages. Susan then bestirred herself to get her trunks in order, that she might take an immediate and dignified departure; sobbing heartily all the time, as she thought of Florence.
The object of her regret was not long in coming to her, for the news soon spread over the house that Susan Nipper had had a disturbance with Mrs Pipchin, and that they had both appealed to Mr Dombey, and that there had been an unprecedented piece of work in Mr Dombey's room, and that Susan was going. The latter part of this confused rumour, Florence found to be so correct, that Susan had locked the last trunk and was sitting upon it with her bonnet on, when she came into her room.
'Susan!' cried Florence. 'Going to leave me! You!'
'Oh for goodness gracious sake, Miss Floy,' said Susan, sobbing, 'don't speak a word to me or I shall demean myself before them' Pipchinses, and I wouldn't have 'em see me cry Miss Floy for worlds!'
'Susan!' said Florence. 'My dear girl, my old friend! What shall I do without you! Can you bear to go away so?'
'No-n-o-o, my darling dear Miss Floy, I can't indeed,' sobbed Susan. 'But it can't be helped, I've done my duty' Miss, I have indeed. It's no fault of mine. I am quite resigned. I couldn't stay my month or I could never leave you then my darling and I must at last as well as at first, don't speak to me Miss Floy, for though I'm pretty firm I'm not a marble doorpost, my own dear.'
'What is it? Why is it?' said Florence, 'Won't you tell me?' For Susan was shaking her head.
'No-n-no, my darling,' returned Susan. 'Don't ask me, for I mustn't, and whatever you do don't put in a word for me to stop, for it couldn't be and you'd only wrong yourself, and so God bless you my own precious and forgive me any harm I have done, or any temper I have showed in all these many years!'
With which entreaty, very heartily delivered, Susan hugged her mistress in her arms.
'My darling there's a many that may come to serve you and be glad to serve you and who'll serve you well and true,' said Susan, 'but there can't be one who'll serve you so affectionate as me or love you half as dearly, that's my comfort' Good-bye, sweet Miss Floy!'
'Where will you go, Susan?' asked her weeping mistress.
'I've got a brother down in the country Miss - a farmer in Essex said the heart-broken Nipper, 'that keeps ever so many co-o-ows and pigs and I shall go down there by the coach and sto-op with him, and don't mind me, for I've got money in the Savings Banks my dear, and needn't take another service just yet, which I couldn't, couldn't, couldn't do, my heart's own mistress!' Susan finished with a burst of sorrow, which was opportunely broken by the voice of Mrs Pipchin talking downstairs; on hearing which, she dried her red and swollen eyes, and made a melancholy feint of calling jauntily to Mr Towlinson to fetch a cab and carry down her boxes.
Florence, pale and hurried and distressed, but withheld from useless interference even here, by her dread of causing any new division between her father and his wife (whose stern, indignant face had been a warning to her a few moments since), and by her apprehension of being in some way unconsciously connected already with the dismissal of her old servant and friend, followed, weeping, downstairs to Edith's dressing-room, whither Susan betook herself to make her parting curtsey.
'Now, here's the cab, and here's the boxes, get along with you, do!' said Mrs Pipchin, presenting herself at the same moment. 'I beg your pardon, Ma'am, but Mr Dombey's orders are imperative.'
Edith, sitting under the hands of her maid - she was going out to dinner - preserved her haughty face, and took not the least notice.
'There's your money,' said Mrs Pipchin, who in pursuance of her system, and in recollection of the Mines, was accustomed to rout the servants about, as she had routed her young Brighton boarders; to the everlasting acidulation of Master Bitherstone, 'and the sooner this house sees your back the better.
Susan had no spirits even for the look that belonged to Ma Pipchin by right; so she dropped her curtsey to Mrs Dombey (who inclined her head without one word, and whose eye avoided everyone but Florence), and gave one last parting hug to her young mistress, and received her parting embrace in return. Poor Susan's face at this crisis, in the intensity of her feelings and the determined suffocation of her sobs, lest one should become audible and be a triumph to Mrs Pipchin, presented a series of the most extraordinary physiognomical phenomena ever witnessed.
'I beg your pardon, Miss, I'm sure,' said Towlinson, outside the door with the boxes, addressing Florence, 'but Mr Toots is in the drawing-room, and sends his compliments, and begs to know how Diogenes and Master is.'
Quick as thought, Florence glided out and hastened downstairs, where Mr Toots, in the most splendid vestments, was breathing very hard with doubt and agitation on the subject of her coming.
'Oh, how de do, Miss Dombey,' said Mr Toots, 'God bless my soul!'
This last ejaculation was occasioned by Mr Toots's deep concern at the distress he saw in Florence's face; which caused him to stop short in a fit of chuckles, and become an image of despair.
'Dear Mr Toots,' said Florence, 'you are so friendly to me, and so honest, that I am sure I may ask a favour of you.
'Miss Dombey,' returned Mr Toots, 'if you'll only name one, you'll - you'll give me an appetite. To which,' said Mr Toots, with some sentiment, 'I have long been a stranger.
'Susan, who is an old friend of mine, the oldest friend I have,' said Florence, 'is about to leave here suddenly, and quite alone, poor girl. She is going home, a little way into the country. Might I ask you to take care of her until she is in the coach?'
'Miss Dombey,' returned Mr Toots, 'you really do me an honour and a kindness. This proof of your confidence, after the manner in which I was Beast enough to conduct myself at Brighton - '
'Yes,' said Florence, hurriedly - 'no - don't think of that. Then would you have the kindness to - to go? and to be ready to meet her when she comes out? Thank you a thousand times! You ease my mind so much. She doesn't seem so desolate. You cannot think how grateful I feel to you, or what a good friend I am sure you are!' and Florence in her earnestness thanked him again and again; and Mr Toots, in his earnestness, hurried away - but backwards, that he might lose no glimpse of her.
Florence had not the courage to go out, when she saw poor Susan in the hall, with Mrs Pipchin driving her forth, and Diogenes jumping about her, and terrifying Mrs Pipchin to the last degree by making snaps at her bombazeen skirts, and howling with anguish at the sound of her voice - for the good duenna was the dearest and most cherished aversion of his breast. But she saw Susan shake hands with the servants all round, and turn once to look at her old home; and she saw Diogenes bound out after the cab, and want to follow it, and testify an impossibility of conviction that he had no longer any property in the fare; and the door was shut, and the hurry over, and her tears flowed fast for the loss of an old friend, whom no one could replace. No one. No one.
Mr Toots, like the leal and trusty soul he was, stopped the cabriolet in a twinkling, and told Susan Nipper of his commission, at which she cried more than before.
'Upon my soul and body!' said Mr Toots, taking his seat beside her. 'I feel for you. Upon my word and honour I think you can hardly know your own feelings better than I imagine them. I can conceive nothing more dreadful than to have to leave Miss Dombey.'
Susan abandoned herself to her grief now, and it really was touching to see her.
'I say,' said Mr Toots, 'now, don't! at least I mean now do, you know!'
'Do what, Mr Toots!' cried Susan.
'Why, come home to my place, and have some dinner before you start,' said Mr Toots. 'My cook's a most respectable woman - one of the most motherly people I ever saw - and she'll be delighted to make you comfortable. Her son,' said Mr Toots, as an additional recommendation, 'was educated in the Bluecoat School,' and blown up in a powder-mill.'
Susan accepting this kind offer, Mr Toots conducted her to his dwelling, where they were received by the Matron in question who fully justified his character of her, and by the Chicken who at first supposed, on seeing a lady in the vehicle, that Mr Dombey had been doubled up, ably to his old recommendation, and Miss Dombey abducted. This gentleman awakened in Miss Nipper some considerable astonishment; for, having been defeated by the Larkey Boy, his visage was in a state of such great dilapidation, as to be hardly presentable in society with comfort to the beholders. The Chicken himself attributed this punishment to his having had the misfortune to get into Chancery early in the proceedings, when he was severely fibbed by the Larkey one, and heavily grassed. But it appeared from the published records of that great contest that the Larkey Boy had had it all his own way from the beginning, and that the Chicken had been tapped, and bunged, and had received pepper, and had been made groggy, and had come up piping, and had endured a complication of similar strange inconveniences, until he had been gone into and finished.
After a good repast, and much hospitality, Susan set out for the coach-office in another cabriolet, with Mr Toots inside, as before, and the Chicken on the box, who, whatever distinction he conferred on the little party by the moral weight and heroism of his character, was scarcely ornamental to it, physically speaking, on account of his plasters; which were numerous. But the Chicken had registered a vow, in secret, that he would never leave Mr Toots (who was secretly pining to get rid of him), for any less consideration than the good-will and fixtures of a public-house; and being ambitious to go into that line, and drink himself to death as soon as possible, he felt it his cue to make his company unacceptable.
The night-coach by which Susan was to go, was on the point of departure. Mr Toots having put her inside, lingered by the window, irresolutely, until the driver was about to mount; when, standing on the step, and putting in a face that by the light of the lamp was anxious and confused, he said abruptly:
'I say, Susan! Miss Dombey, you know - '
'Yes, Sir.'
'Do you think she could - you know - eh?'
'I beg your pardon, Mr Toots,' said Susan, 'but I don't hear you.
'Do you think she could be brought, you know - not exactly at once, but in time - in a long time - to - to love me, you know? There!' said poor Mr Toots.
'Oh dear no!' returned Susan, shaking her head. 'I should say, never. Never!'
'Thank'ee!' said Mr Toots. 'It's of no consequence. Good-night. It's of no consequence, thank'ee!'
苏珊•尼珀虽然不像太阳升起得那么早，但天一亮就起床了。这位年轻的少女的非常敏锐的黑眼睛里含着抑郁，因此减少了几分光泽，而且使人想起，它们跟平时的情形不一样，有时是闭着的。这两只眼睛看去还很肿大，好像昨天夜里一直在哭泣似的。可是尼珀决没有灰心丧气，而是非常生气勃勃、大胆泼辣，好像振作起全部精神，要去完成什么丰功伟业似的。这甚至可以从她的比平时紧贴得多和整洁得多的衣服中看得出来，也可以从她在房间里走来走去时偶尔猛晃一下脑袋的动作中看得出来，那动作有力地表明了她的决心。
总之，她已下定了决心，一个抱负不凡的决心，这就是：排除艰险，深入到董贝先生面前，单独跟那位先生谈一谈。
“我曾时常说过，我将会这样做的，”那天早上她用威胁的神气对自己说道，同时把脑袋猛晃了好多次，“现在我•就•要这样做了！”
苏珊•尼珀激励着自己，以她特有的机敏去完成这个大胆冒险的计划，整个上午在门厅里和楼梯上转来转去，没有找到一个有利的机会可以下手。她根本没有被这种失利所挫败，这实际上倒相反起了一种刺激的作用，使她更加鼓起勇气，丝毫没有减却警惕性。终于，到了傍晚的时候，她发现她的不共戴天的敌人皮普钦太太借口昨天坐了一整夜，这时正在自己的房间里打瞌睡；她还发现董贝先生这时正躺在沙发上，身旁没人侍候。
尼珀这次不是猛晃了一下脑袋，而是整个身子都猛晃了一下，然后踮着脚尖，走到董贝先生门口，敲了敲门。“进来！”董贝先生说道。苏珊最后又猛晃了一下身子，来鼓起自己的勇气，然后走进去董贝先生正在注视着炉火，惊奇地看了一下走进房间里来的人，并用胳膊把身子略略支起一点。尼珀行了个屈膝礼。
“你需要什么？”董贝先生问道。
“对不起，先生，我想跟您谈谈。”
董贝先生动了动嘴唇，仿佛在重复说这几个字；可是他似乎对这位年轻女人放肆无礼的态度诧异得不知所措，连也发不出来了。
“我是您家的女用人，先生，”苏珊•尼珀就像平时那样快嘴快舌地说道，“我在这里已经十二年了，一直在服侍我的小女主人弗洛伊小姐，我初到这里来的时候她话还讲不清楚，当理查兹大嫂是这里的新用人的时候我已经是个老用人了，我可能不是梅索沙来姆①，但我已经不是个抱在怀里的娃娃了。”
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①梅索沙来姆（Meethosalem）：旧约圣经中传说活了969岁的人。
董贝先生用胳膊支着，欠起身来，看看她，对这一篇开场白性的事实陈述没有发表意见。
“世界上没有哪一位小姐像我的小姐那样可亲可爱的了，先生，”苏珊说道，“我比什么人都了解这一点，因为我看到她处于悲痛的时候，也看到她处于快乐的时候（她的快乐是不多的），我看到她跟她弟弟在一起的时候，也看到她孤零零一个人的时候，而有的人从来也没有看到过她，我对有的人和对所有的人说，是的，我说！”这时黑眼睛摇摇头，轻轻地跺跺脚；“我说，弗洛伊小姐是世界上最可亲可爱的天使，先生，让他们把我撕得粉碎吧，把我撕得越碎我越要这样说，虽然我可能不是福克斯书中的殉难者。”①
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①约翰•福克斯（JohnFoxe，1516—1587年）于1663年发表了《最近这些灾难日子里的伟迹与丰碑》（ActsandMonumentsofTheseLatterandPerillousDays》一书，以生动和论战的笔触叙述新教徒从十四世纪到玛丽一世在位这一时期所受的磨难；此书在英国清教徒家庭中传诵甚广，是除《圣经》之外最受珍爱的书；它的通俗名称为《殉教者书》（TheBookofMartyrs）。
董贝先生摔伤以后脸色本已发白，这时由于愤怒与惊讶变得更加苍白；他的眼睛直盯着说话的人，那副神态就仿佛在责备他的眼睛和耳朵在欺骗他似的。
“任何人都不能不真诚与忠实地对待弗洛伊小姐，”苏珊继续说道，“我不自夸我服务了十二年有什么功劳，因为我爱她——是的，我可以对有的人和对所有的人这样说！”这时黑眼睛又摇摇头，又轻轻地跺跺脚，抑制着自己不哭泣；“可是真诚与忠实的服务使我有权利说出我希望说的话，说出我应当说和现在就要说的话，不管这话是对还是错！”
“你想要做什么，女人！”董贝先生向她怒瞪着眼睛，说道，“你怎么敢这样？”
“我想要做什么，先生？我只是想恭恭敬敬地，毫不冒犯地，但却开诚布公地把话说出来，至于我怎么敢这样，我也不明白，但我确实是敢！”苏珊说道，“唉！您不了解我的小姐，先生您真是不了解，如果您了解的话，那么您就决不会这样不了解她的。”
董贝先生勃然大怒，伸手去拉铃绳，可是在壁炉这边没有铃绳，而没有别人帮助，他又不能站起来走到另一边去。尼珀眼快，立刻看出他束手无策的状态，现在，正像她后来所说的，她觉得她已经把他掌握在她手中了。
“弗洛伊小姐，”苏珊•尼珀说道，“是世界上最忠诚、最耐性、最孝顺、最漂亮的女儿，先生，任何一位先生，即使把英国最高贵最有钱的先生加起来才抵得上他那样高贵和有钱，也决不会不因为她而感到自豪，他将会感到自豪也应当感到自豪。如果他真正了解她的价值的话，那么他就会宁愿为了她而逐渐失去他的高贵身份和财产，并穿着破烂的衣服挨门逐户去乞讨，而不愿给她温柔的心带来这样沉重的悲伤的，我在这屋子里亲眼看到她的心受了多么大的痛苦啊！我对有的人并对所有的人都这样说。”苏珊•尼珀高声喊道，一边突然泪流满脸地痛哭起来。
“女人，”董贝先生喊道，“离开这房间！”
“请原谅，先生，即使我要丢掉我的职务，丢掉这个我干了这么多年，见识了许许多多事情的职务，我现在也不走，”坚定的尼珀回答道，“虽然我希望您千万别为了这样的原因这样狠心地把我从弗洛伊小姐的身边打发走！是的，我没有把话说完是不会走的。我可能不是一位印度寡妇，①先生，我现在不是也不想成为印度寡妇，但是一旦我下定决心把我自己活活烧死，我是会这样做的！我已下定决心继续把我的话说完！”
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①按照古时印度的风俗习惯，在丈夫死后的火葬柴堆上要把寡妇活活烧死。
这一点，苏珊•尼珀脸上的表情并不比她的言语表达得不清楚。
“在您家服务的所有仆人中，先生，”黑眼睛继续说道，“没有一位像我这样老是害怕您的，我大胆地告诉您，我曾经几百次几百次想跟您谈谈，不过以前总是下不了决心，但是昨天夜里我终于下定决心了，您可以相信我这些话是说得多么真诚。”
董贝先生火冒三丈，又动手去抓那不在近旁的铃绳，由于抓不到铃绳，他就揪自己的头发，这比没有抓住什么总强一些。
“我看到，”苏珊•尼珀说道，“弗洛伊小姐还完全是个孩子的时候，就尝够了艰辛，那时她是个多么可爱多么耐性的孩子啊，即使是最好的妇女也可以仿效她的榜样，我看见她一夜又一夜地坐到深夜，帮助有病的弟弟准备功课，我看见她在其他时候——有的人很了解这是在什么时候——帮助他守护他，我看见她在得不到鼓励得不到帮助的情况下长大成为一位姑娘，谢天谢地！这是她所结交的每一位朋友感到体面和感到自豪的。我看见她受到了冷酷无情的冷落，剧烈地感到痛苦——我对有的人并对所有的人这样说，我已经这样说了！——而她却从来不说一个字，可是即使一个人要低三下四地恭恭敬敬地对待比她高超的人的话，那也并不是说她要崇拜一个雕像呀，我要说出这一点并且必须说出这一点！”
“有人吗？”董贝先生大声喊道，“男仆人在哪里？女仆人在哪里？难道这里一个人也没有了吗？”
“昨天夜晚我离开我亲爱的小姐的时候已经很晚了，可是她还没有上床睡觉，”苏珊没有受到丝毫影响，继续说下去，“我知道这是为什么！因为您病了先生而她却不知道您病得多重，这一点就足以使她变得多么可怜了，我也亲眼看到她是多么可怜。我可能不是孔雀，但是我有眼睛——我坐在我自己的房间里，心想她可能感到寂寞需要我，我看见她偷偷地下了楼走到这个门口，就仿佛看看她的亲爸爸是一件犯罪的事情似的，然后她又偷偷地回去，走到寂静的客厅里，在那里哭起来，哭得我简直•都•不忍心听下去。我•不•能忍心听下去，”苏珊•尼珀抹抹她的黑眼睛，毫不畏惧地注视着董贝先生怒气冲冲的脸孔，说道，“这并不是我第一次听到她哭，我已经听过好多好多次了！您不了解您亲生的女儿，先生，您不明白您做了什么事，先生，我对有的人并对所有的人说，”苏珊•尼珀最后冲动地大声喊叫道，“这是罪孽深重的、可耻的事情！”
“嗳呀，不得了！”传来了皮普钦太太的喊声；穿着黑色邦巴辛毛葛衣服的秘鲁矿的女人昂首阔步地走进了房间。“究竟是怎么回事？”
苏珊向皮普钦太太送去了一个眼神，这种眼神是她们初次相识时她特意为她而创造出来的；她让董贝先生来回答。
“怎么回事？”董贝先生几乎唾沫纷飞地重复问道，“怎么回事，夫人？您是主管这个房屋的，有责任把这个家管得有条不紊，您确实有理由提出这个问题。您知道这个女人吗？”
“我知道她不是个好玩艺儿，先生，”皮普钦太太用哭丧的说道，“你怎么敢到这里来，你这轻佻的贱货？你给我滚！”
可是刚强不屈的尼珀只是向皮普钦太太奉送了另一个眼神，一动不动地继续站在那里。
“夫人，”董贝先生说道，“听任这一类人放肆地进来跟•我谈话，一位上层社会的高贵人物在他自己的公馆里，在他自己的房间里竟居然被他的女仆人鲁莽无礼地教训起来，您还能说是在管家吗？”
“说得对，先生，”皮普钦太太回答道，她那冷酷无情的灰色眼睛中闪射出复仇的火焰，“我非常抱歉，没有比这更不成体统的事了，没有比这更无法无天、超越理性的事了。不过我不得不遗憾地指出，先生，这个年轻女人是很难管束的。她被董贝小姐惯坏了，谁的话她都不听。你明白，你就是这样的，”皮普钦太太对苏珊•尼珀摇着头，苛刻地说道，“真不害臊，你这轻佻的贱货！快给我滚！”
“在为我服务的人们当中，您如果发现有谁难以管束，皮普钦太太，”董贝先生又转向壁炉，说道，“我想，您知道该怎么处理他们。您知道您在这里是干什么的吗？把她带走！”
“先生，我知道该怎么办，”皮普钦太太回答道，“当然我将会这么办的。苏珊•尼珀，”她怒气冲冲、特别急躁无礼地对着她说道，“我预先通知你，从现在起一个月以后你就被解雇了。”
“哦，真的吗？”苏珊高傲地回答道。
“是的，”皮普钦太太回答道，“别朝我发笑，你这发疯的姑娘，要不就把你发笑的原因说出来！你这一分钟就给我滚！”
“我这分钟就走，这一点你别担心，”能言善辩的尼珀说道，“我在这屋子里侍候我的小姐已有十二年，在姓皮普钦的向我发出解雇通知以后，我不会在这里再待一个钟头，这一点你可以相信我，皮太太。”
“我们终于把这臭垃圾给清除掉了！”怒气冲天的老太太说道，“快滚吧，要不我就命令把你拽出去！”
“我感到安慰的是，”苏珊回过头去看着董贝先生，说道，“今天我把好久以前就应当说出的真实情况说出来了，这些话不论说多少次也不会嫌多，不论怎么说也不会嫌太直率，而且没有哪一位皮普钦——我希望她们人数不多——（这时皮普钦太太十分凶狠地喊了一声，“给我滚！”，尼珀姑娘则重新向她送去一个眼神）能取消我已经说了的话，虽然这些皮普钦在整整一年时间里从上午十点钟起一直到夜里十二点钟为止，一直没休没止地发出解雇的警告，最后终于精疲力尽而死去，那时候倒将是个真正欢乐的节日哩！”
尼珀姑娘说完这些话之后，在她的仇人的跟随下，走出了房间，十分庄严地上了楼，回到自己的房间，把忿怒的皮普钦气得喘不过气来，然后她在她的一些箱子中间坐下，开始哭起来。
不久，她就被门外皮普钦太太的从这软弱的状态中唤醒，结果是很有益于身心和振奋精神的。
“那条厚颜无耻的母狗，”凶恶的皮普钦太太说道，“打算接受解雇呢还是不打算接受？”
尼珀姑娘从房间里回答道，她所说的那条厚颜无耻的母狗不在这个房间，那条母狗姓皮普钦，到女管家房间里去可以找到。
“你这不懂规矩的婊子！”皮普钦太太回骂道，一边卡嗒卡嗒地转动着门把，“这分钟就给我滚！立刻就收拾你的东西！
你怎么敢这样对一位过过好日子的贵夫人说话？”
尼珀姑娘从她的城堡中回答道，她真为那些让皮普钦太太过过的好日子惋惜，就她来说，她认为，这一年当中最坏的日子已经离这位太太不远了，只不过这些最坏的日子对这位太太来说还是太好了太好了。
“可是你不必麻烦自己在我的门口吵吵闹闹，”苏珊•尼珀说道，“也不要用你的眼睛把钥匙孔弄脏了。我正在收拾东西，我就走，我这个口头宣誓是你想要的，你拿去吧。”
这位未亡人听到这个消息以后，眉飞色舞，表示十分满意，一边对轻佻的小贱货这一类人，特别是在董贝小姐把她们惯坏以后的种种缺点发表了一番评论，一边回去准备尼珀的工资。在这之后，尼珀忙着把箱子收拾妥贴，以便可以立刻尊严地动身；在这整个时间里，她想到弗洛伦斯，一直在伤心地哭泣着。
她所哀怜的对象不久就来到她的身边，因为整个屋子里很快就传遍了这个消息：苏珊•尼珀跟皮普钦太太发生了激烈的争吵；她们两人都上诉到董贝先生那里，在董贝先生的房间里发生了一场前所未见的大吵大闹；苏珊要离开这里了。弗洛伦斯发现这些众说纷纭的传说中的最后部分十分真实，因为当她走进房间的时候，苏珊已经锁好最后一只箱子，戴着帽子坐在上面。
“苏珊！”弗洛伦斯喊道，“您要离开我了吗！您！”
“哎呀，看在老天爷的面上，弗洛伊小姐，”苏珊哭泣着，说道，“一句话也别跟我说，要不我就在皮—皮—皮—皮普钦她们面前丢了脸了，弗洛伊小姐我无论如何也不能让她们看到我哭！”
“苏珊！”弗洛伦斯说道，“我亲爱的，我的老朋友！我没有您该怎么办哪！您能忍心就这样走了吗？”
“不—不—不—不，我亲爱的宝贝弗洛伊小姐，我确实不忍心，”苏珊哭泣着，“可是没有办法，我已经尽了我的责任，小姐，我确实已经尽了我的责任。这不是我的过错。我是迫不得已，只好这样了。我不能封住自己的嘴，要不我就将永远离不开您了，我的亲爱的，而我最终还是不能不走的，不要跟我说话吧，弗洛伊小姐，因为我虽然是相当坚定的，但我毕竟不是大理石门柱呀，我亲爱的宝贝。”
“究竟是怎么回事？为什么会发生这样的事情？”弗洛伦斯说道，“难道你不想告诉我吗？”因为这时苏珊摇摇头。
“不—不—不，我亲爱的，”苏珊回答道，“别问我吧，因为我不应该说，不论您做什么，千万别去替我说情，让我留下来，因为这是办不到的，而只会使您自己受委屈，因此让上帝保佑您吧，我的宝贝小姐，在这许多年头里我所做的一切不好的事情，我所发的一切脾气，都请您原谅吧！”
苏珊真心诚意地提出这个请求之后，紧紧地拥抱着她的女主人。
“我亲爱的，有许多人可以当您的女仆人，她们将会高兴周到地真诚地侍候您，”苏珊说道，“可是没有一个人能像我这样情深意厚地为您服务，没有一个人能像我这样热爱您，这是我可以安慰自己的。再—再—见吧，我可爱的弗洛伊小姐！”
“您到那里去呢，苏珊？”她的哭泣着的女主人问道。
“小姐我在乡下有一位哥哥——是埃塞克斯①的农民，”
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①埃塞克斯（Essex）：英格兰东南部的郡，东滨北海，南界泰晤士河口。
心碎肠断的尼珀说道，“他饲养了许多奶—奶—奶牛和猪，我将搭乘驿车去，在他那里住——住下，别替我操心，因为我在储蓄银行里还存有一笔钱，我亲爱的，现在还不需要再去找一份工作，那是我现在做不到，做不到，做不到的，我的心肝女主人！”苏珊说完之后悲痛地大哭起来，幸好皮普钦太太在楼下谈话的把这给打断了。苏珊一听到那，就把红肿的眼睛擦干，可怜地装出快活的样子，呼唤托林森先生去给她雇马车，并帮她把箱子搬到楼下去。
弗洛伦斯脸色苍白，心情焦急，悲痛，由于害怕会造成她父亲和他的妻子（她的严厉的、愤怒的脸几分钟前对她来说还是一种警告）之间新的分裂，还担心她本人已经在某些方面不知不觉地跟她多年的仆人和朋友的解雇有关系，所以甚至这时她也不敢进行徒劳无益的干涉，只是哭泣着跟着下了楼，到了伊迪丝的化妆室中；苏珊到那里去是向她行屈膝礼，进行告别的。
“好了，这里是马车，这里是箱子，快给我滚吧，滚！”皮普钦太太在同一个时刻来到这里，说道，“请原谅，夫人，不过董贝先生的命令是不容违抗的。”
伊迪丝坐着，她的侍女正在给她梳头——她将出去参加晚晏——，这时她脸上保持着傲慢的神色，丝毫也不理睬。
“这是你的钱，”皮普钦太太说道，她在执行她的制度时和在回忆矿上的情形时，习惯于对仆人们逞凶肆虐，就像她在布赖顿时对那些在她那里吃饭和住宿的年轻人逞凶肆虐的情形一样；比瑟斯通少爷曾被惹得怒气永久不消；“你愈早离开这屋子愈好。”
苏珊连向皮普钦太太送一次专属于她的眼神的精神也没有；她向董贝夫人行了一个屈膝礼（董贝夫人默默无言地点了一下头，她的眼睛避开了除弗洛伦斯以外的任何人），然后在临别前最后一次地紧抱着她的年轻的女主人，并接受了她的年轻的女主人的临别拥抱。可怜的苏珊心绪万分激动，又坚决忍住不哭，唯恐发出一点哭声会使皮普钦太太听了开心得意；在这紧急关头她脸上的表情呈现出极不寻常的种种变化，真是前所未有。
“请原谅，小姐，”托林森先生提着箱子站在门口，对弗洛伦斯说道，“图茨先生在会客室里；他向您问候，并想打听一下戴奥吉尼斯和他的女主人好吗。”
弗洛伦斯像闪电一般迅速溜出房间，急急忙忙地下了楼。图茨先生穿着极为华丽的服装，在楼下正在猜疑她是否可能会来，心情焦躁不安，很急促地呼吸着。
“啊，您好，董贝小姐，”图茨先生说道，“哎哟我的天哪！”
这最后的惊喊声是由于图茨先生看到弗洛伦斯脸上悲痛的神色，感到深切的忧虑而发出的；这立即使他中断了吃吃的笑声，变成了悲观绝望的化身。
“亲爱的图茨先生，”弗洛伦斯说道，“您对我很友好，又很正直，所以我相信我可以请您帮个忙。”
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生回答道，“您只要说出一件事我可以效劳的，您就——您就会恢复我的胃口，”图茨先生感伤地说道，“我已好久没有胃口了。”
“苏珊是我的一位老朋友，是与我相识最久的一位老朋友；她突然要离开这里了，而且是孤零零一个人离开，可怜的女孩子。她回到乡下的家里去。我是不是可以劳驾您照顾她一下，把她送上驿车？”
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生回答道，“您确实使我感到荣幸，这也是您对我的厚道。这证明您信任我，虽然在这之前我在布赖顿的行为真是十足像个畜牲——”
“是的，”弗洛伦斯急忙打断他，说道，“不——别去想那件事吧。这么说，您肯费神去——走一走？并且当她走出门的时候，您去迎接她？谢您一千次！您使我宽心不少。她将不会觉得自己很孤独凄凉了。您不知道我是多么感谢您，我把您看作是一位多么好的朋友！”弗洛伦斯怀着一片真心诚意，一次又一次地感谢他，图茨先生也怀着他的一片真心诚意，急忙离开了——不过是向后退着走的，为的是一眼也不离开她，直到看不见为止。
弗洛伦斯看见可怜的苏珊在前厅里，皮普钦太太把她驱赶到那里；戴奥吉尼斯在她身边跳跃着，并竭尽全力威吓着皮普钦太太；他向她的邦巴辛毛葛裙子猛扑过去，而且一听到她的就痛苦地嗥叫着，因为这位可敬的老媪引起他胸中极大的、深切的嫌恶；这时候弗洛伦斯没有勇气走出去。但是她看着苏珊和周围的仆人们一一握手，向她这个居住多年的老家环视了一次；她还看到戴奥吉尼斯跳出去追赶马车，想跟着它跑；他怎么也不能理解，他对马车里的那位女乘客不再拥有任何亲近的权利了。接着，公馆的门关上了，刚才的忙乱过去了，弗洛伦斯的眼泪簌簌地流下，她为失去老朋友而哭泣着，这位老朋友是谁也不能代替的。谁也不能。谁也不能。
图茨先生是一位忠实可靠的人，他在转瞬之间就拦住这辆单马篷车，对苏珊•尼珀说明了他所受托的任务。苏珊听到以后，比刚才更大声地哭了起来。
“以我的灵魂和身体发誓，”图茨先生在她身旁坐下，说道，“我同情您！说实话，并以我的荣誉发誓，您对您自己的感情还不比我了解得更清楚。我不能想象，有什么事能比离开董贝小姐更可怕的了。”
苏珊这时纵情痛哭，看到她那悲伤的情景真是令人感动。
“我说，”图茨先生说道，“别这样！您知道，至少我知道现在该怎么办！”
“怎么办，图茨先生？”苏珊哭着问道。
“唔，到我家去，先吃一顿晚饭再上路，”图茨先生说道。
“我家的厨娘是一位品格极为高尚的妇女——心地极为慈善，她一定会高高兴兴地把您照料得十分舒适如意。她的儿子，”图茨先生补充介绍道，“在慈善学校中受过教育，后来在一个火药工厂中被炸死了。”
苏珊接受了这个善良的邀请，图茨先生把她一直送到他的住所；上面提到的那位大婶和斗鸡先生在这里迎接他们。那位大婶完全跟图茨先生介绍的情形一样。斗鸡先生起初看到马车里有一位小姐，还以为他先前的建议终于被采纳，董贝先生已被打得直不起腰来，董贝小姐已被诱拐到这里来了。这位先生使尼珀姑娘相当吃惊，因为他被拉基•博伊打败之后，面貌受到极大的损毁，进入社交界时很难使看到的人感到舒服。斗鸡把他所吃到的苦头归咎于他在拳斗过程中，头不幸很快被夹在对方腋下，在这之后，拉基狠狠地打了他一拳，把他往地上猛地一掷。但是从这次伟大竞赛的已经公布的记录来看，拉基•博伊一开始就按照他自己的意思去打，斗鸡被打在身上，被打得鼻青眼肿，被接连速击，逼得他摇摇晃晃，高声哭叫，还受到了好多类似的苦楚，直到最后被彻底制服为止。
苏珊在十分好客的气氛中吃了一顿丰盛的晚饭之后，乘坐了另一辆单马篷车到驿车车站去；图茨先生跟先前一样，跟她并排坐在车子里。斗鸡则坐在马车夫的座位上；虽然他凭他道义上的影响和英雄主义的品格，对他们这几位同行的人可能增添了不小的光彩，不过就他的外表来说，因为他的脸上贴满了膏药，因此未必能成为他们美丽的装饰。但是斗鸡先生暗地里发过誓，在他还不能把一个酒吧的招牌和不动产弄到手可以经营它之前，他决不离开图茨先生（图茨先生暗地里却很想摆脱他）。由于他雄心勃勃地想进入这个行业，并尽早把自己喝得酩酊大醉，他觉得他必须先让他周围的人厌恶他在场。
苏珊乘坐的夜间的驿车立刻就要开动了。图茨先生搀扶她进去、坐好以后，一直迟疑不决地在窗口磨蹭着不走，直到马车夫准备爬上座位的时候，他才站在车子的台阶上，把脸孔探进去（从灯光中可以看到他脸上那焦虑的、困窘的神色），语无伦次地说道：
“我说，苏珊！董贝小姐，您知道——”
“是的，先生。”
“您认为她会——您知道——嗯？”
“请原谅，图茨先生，”苏珊说道，“您的话我没听明白。”
“您认为她能不能，您知道——不是说现在立刻就，而是说以后——过很久以后——终于——会——会爱我吗，您知道？就是这！”可怜的图茨先生说道。
“啊，不会！”苏珊摇摇头，回答道，“我要说那是永远不会的。永远——不会！”
“谢谢您！”图茨先生说道，“这无关紧要。再见。这无关紧要，谢谢您！”
Chapter 45
The Trusty Agent

Edith went out alone that day, and returned home early. It was but a few minutes after ten o'clock, when her carriage rolled along the street in which she lived.
There was the same enforced composure on her face, that there had been when she was dressing; and the wreath upon her head encircled the same cold and steady brow. But it would have been better to have seen its leaves and flowers reft into fragments by her passionate hand, or rendered shapeless by the fitful searches of a throbbing and bewildered brain for any resting-place, than adorning such tranquillity. So obdurate, so unapproachable, so unrelenting, one would have thought that nothing could soften such a woman's nature, and that everything in life had hardened it.
Arrived at her own door, she was alighting, when some one coming quietly from the hall, and standing bareheaded, offered her his arm. The servant being thrust aside, she had no choice but to touch it; and she then knew whose arm it was.
'How is your patient, Sir?' she asked, with a curled lip.
'He is better,' returned Carker. 'He is doing very well. I have left him for the night.'
She bent her head, and was passing up the staircase, when he followed and said, speaking at the bottom:
'Madam! May I beg the favour of a minute's audience?'
She stopped and turned her eyes back 'It is an unseasonable time, Sir, and I am fatigued. Is your business urgent?'
'It is very urgent, returned Carker. 'As I am so fortunate as to have met you, let me press my petition.'
She looked down for a moment at his glistening mouth; and he looked up at her, standing above him in her stately dress, and thought, again, how beautiful she was.
'Where is Miss Dombey?' she asked the servant, aloud.
'In the morning room, Ma'am.'
'Show the way there!' Turning her eyes again on the attentive gentleman at the bottom of the stairs, and informing him with a slight motion of her head, that he was at liberty to follow, she passed on.
'I beg your pardon! Madam! Mrs Dombey!' cried the soft and nimble Carker, at her side in a moment. 'May I be permitted to entreat that Miss Dombey is not present?'
She confronted him, with a quick look, but with the same self-possession and steadiness.
'I would spare Miss Dombey,' said Carker, in a low voice, 'the knowledge of what I have to say. At least, Madam, I would leave it to you to decide whether she shall know of it or not. I owe that to you. It is my bounden duty to you. After our former interview, it would be monstrous in me if I did otherwise.'
She slowly withdrew her eyes from his face, and turning to the servant, said, 'Some other room.' He led the way to a drawing-room, which he speedily lighted up and then left them. While he remained, not a word was spoken. Edith enthroned herself upon a couch by the fire; and Mr Carker, with his hat in his hand and his eyes bent upon the carpet, stood before her, at some little distance.
'Before I hear you, Sir,' said Edith, when the door was closed, 'I wish you to hear me.'
'To be addressed by Mrs Dombey,' he returned, 'even in accents of unmerited reproach, is an honour I so greatly esteem, that although I were not her servant in all things, I should defer to such a wish, most readily.'
'If you are charged by the man whom you have just now left, Sir;' Mr Carker raised his eyes, as if he were going to counterfeit surprise, but she met them, and stopped him, if such were his intention; 'with any message to me, do not attempt to deliver it, for I will not receive it. I need scarcely ask you if you are come on such an errand. I have expected you some time.
'It is my misfortune,' he replied, 'to be here, wholly against my will, for such a purpose. Allow me to say that I am here for two purposes. That is one.'
'That one, Sir,' she returned, 'is ended. Or, if you return to it - '
'Can Mrs Dombey believe,' said Carker, coming nearer, 'that I would return to it in the face of her prohibition? Is it possible that Mrs Dombey, having no regard to my unfortunate position, is so determined to consider me inseparable from my instructor as to do me great and wilful injustice?'
'Sir,' returned Edith, bending her dark gaze full upon him, and speaking with a rising passion that inflated her proud nostril and her swelling neck, and stirred the delicate white down upon a robe she wore, thrown loosely over shoulders that could hear its snowy neighbourhood. 'Why do you present yourself to me, as you have done, and speak to me of love and duty to my husband, and pretend to think that I am happily married, and that I honour him? How dare you venture so to affront me, when you know - I do not know better, Sir: I have seen it in your every glance, and heard it in your every word - that in place of affection between us there is aversion and contempt, and that I despise him hardly less than I despise myself for being his! Injustice! If I had done justice to the torment you have made me feel, and to my sense of the insult you have put upon me, I should have slain you!'
She had asked him why he did this. Had she not been blinded by her pride and wrath, and self-humiliation, - which she was, fiercely as she bent her gaze upon him, - she would have seen the answer in his face. To bring her to this declaration.
She saw it not, and cared not whether it was there or no. She saw only the indignities and struggles she had undergone and had to undergo, and was writhing under them. As she sat looking fixedly at them, rather than at him, she plucked the feathers from a pinion of some rare and beautiful bird, which hung from her wrist by a golden thread, to serve her as a fan, and rained them on the ground.
He did not shrink beneath her gaze, but stood, until such outward signs of her anger as had escaped her control subsided, with the air of a man who had his sufficient reply in reserve and would presently deliver it. And he then spoke, looking straight into her kindling eyes.
'Madam,' he said, 'I know, and knew before to-day, that I have found no favour with you; and I knew why. Yes. I knew why. You have spoken so openly to me; I am so relieved by the possession of your confidence - '
'Confidence!' she repeated, with disdain.
He passed it over.
' - that I will make no pretence of concealment. I did see from the first, that there was no affection on your part for Mr Dombey - how could it possibly exist between such different subjects? And I have seen, since, that stronger feelings than indifference have been engendered in your breast - how could that possibly be otherwise, either, circumstanced as you have been? But was it for me to presume to avow this knowledge to you in so many words?'
'Was it for you, Sir,' she replied, 'to feign that other belief, and audaciously to thrust it on me day by day?'
'Madam, it was,' he eagerly retorted. 'If I had done less, if I had done anything but that, I should not be speaking to you thus; and I foresaw - who could better foresee, for who has had greater experience of Mr Dombey than myself? - that unless your character should prove to be as yielding and obedient as that of his first submissive lady, which I did not believe - '
A haughty smile gave him reason to observe that he might repeat this.
'I say, which I did not believe, - the time was likely to come, when such an understanding as we have now arrived at, would be serviceable.'
'Serviceable to whom, Sir?' she demanded scornfully.
'To you. I will not add to myself, as warning me to refrain even from that limited commendation of Mr Dombey, in which I can honestly indulge, in order that I may not have the misfortune of saying anything distasteful to one whose aversion and contempt,' with great expression, 'are so keen.'
'Is it honest in you, Sir,' said Edith, 'to confess to your "limited commendation," and to speak in that tone of disparagement, even of him: being his chief counsellor and flatterer!'
'Counsellor, - yes,' said Carker. 'Flatterer, - no. A little reservation I fear I must confess to. But our interest and convenience commonly oblige many of us to make professions that we cannot feel. We have partnerships of interest and convenience, friendships of interest and convenience, dealings of interest and convenience, marriages of interest and convenience, every day.'
She bit her blood-red lip; but without wavering in the dark, stern watch she kept upon him.
'Madam,' said Mr Carker, sitting down in a chair that was near her, with an air of the most profound and most considerate respect, 'why should I hesitate now, being altogether devoted to your service, to speak plainly? It was natural that a lady, endowed as you are, should think it feasible to change her husband's character in some respects, and mould him to a better form.'
'It was not natural to me, Sir,' she rejoined. 'I had never any expectation or intention of that kind.'
The proud undaunted face showed him it was resolute to wear no mask he offered, but was set upon a reckless disclosure of itself, indifferent to any aspect in which it might present itself to such as he.
'At least it was natural,' he resumed, 'that you should deem it quite possible to live with Mr Dombey as his wife, at once without submitting to him, and without coming into such violent collision with him. But, Madam, you did not know Mr Dombey (as you have since ascertained), when you thought that. You did not know how exacting and how proud he is, or how he is, if I may say so, the slave of his own greatness, and goes yoked to his own triumphal car like a beast of burden, with no idea on earth but that it is behind him and is to be drawn on, over everything and through everything.'
His teeth gleamed through his malicious relish of this conceit, as he went on talking:
'Mr Dombey is really capable of no more true consideration for you, Madam, than for me. The comparison is an extreme one; I intend it to be so; but quite just. Mr Dombey, in the plenitude of his power, asked me - I had it from his own lips yesterday morning - to be his go-between to you, because he knows I am not agreeable to you, and because he intends that I shall be a punishment for your contumacy; and besides that, because he really does consider, that I, his paid servant, am an ambassador whom it is derogatory to the dignity - not of the lady to whom I have the happiness of speaking; she has no existence in his mind - but of his wife, a part of himself, to receive. You may imagine how regardless of me, how obtuse to the possibility of my having any individual sentiment or opinion he is, when he tells me, openly, that I am so employed. You know how perfectly indifferent to your feelings he is, when he threatens you with such a messenger. As you, of course, have not forgotten that he did.'
She watched him still attentively. But he watched her too; and he saw that this indication of a knowledge on his part, of something that had passed between herself and her husband, rankled and smarted in her haughty breast, like a poisoned arrow.
'I do not recall all this to widen the breach between yourself and Mr Dombey, Madam - Heaven forbid! what would it profit me? - but as an example of the hopelessness of impressing Mr Dombey with a sense that anybody is to be considered when he is in question. We who are about him, have, in our various positions, done our part, I daresay, to confirm him in his way of thinking; but if we had not done so, others would - or they would not have been about him; and it has always been, from the beginning, the very staple of his life. Mr Dombey has had to deal, in short, with none but submissive and dependent persons, who have bowed the knee, and bent the neck, before him. He has never known what it is to have angry pride and strong resentment opposed to him.'
'But he will know it now!' she seemed to say; though her lips did not part, nor her eyes falter. He saw the soft down tremble once again, and he saw her lay the plumage of the beautiful bird against her bosom for a moment; and he unfolded one more ring of the coil into which he had gathered himself.
'Mr Dombey, though a most honourable gentleman,' he said, 'is so prone to pervert even facts to his own view, when he is at all opposed, in consequence of the warp in his mind, that he - can I give a better instance than this! - he sincerely believes (you will excuse the folly of what I am about to say; it not being mine) that his severe expression of opinion to his present wife, on a certain special occasion she may remember, before the lamented death of Mrs Skewton, produced a withering effect, and for the moment quite subdued her!'
Edith laughed. How harshly and unmusically need not be described. It is enough that he was glad to hear her.
'Madam,' he resumed, 'I have done with this. Your own opinions are so strong, and, I am persuaded, so unalterable,' he repeated those words slowly and with great emphasis, 'that I am almost afraid to incur your displeasure anew, when I say that in spite of these defects and my full knowledge of them, I have become habituated to Mr Dombey, and esteem him. But when I say so, it is not, believe me, for the mere sake of vaunting a feeling that is so utterly at variance with your own, and for which you can have no sympathy' - oh how distinct and plain and emphasized this was! - 'but to give you an assurance of the zeal with which, in this unhappy matter, I am yours, and the indignation with which I regard the part I am to fill!'
She sat as if she were afraid to take her eyes from his face.
And now to unwind the last ring of the coil!
'It is growing late,' said Carker, after a pause, 'and you are, as you said, fatigued. But the second object of this interview, I must not forget. I must recommend you, I must entreat you in the most earnest manner, for sufficient reasons that I have, to be cautious in your demonstrations of regard for Miss Dombey.'
'Cautious! What do you mean?'
'To be careful how you exhibit too much affection for that young lady.'
'Too much affection, Sir!' said Edith, knitting her broad brow and rising. 'Who judges my affection, or measures it out? You?'
'It is not I who do so.' He was, or feigned to be, perplexed.
'Who then?'
'Can you not guess who then?'
'I do not choose to guess,' she answered.
'Madam,' he said after a little hesitation; meantime they had been, and still were, regarding each other as before; 'I am in a difficulty here. You have told me you will receive no message, and you have forbidden me to return to that subject; but the two subjects are so closely entwined, I find, that unless you will accept this vague caution from one who has now the honour to possess your confidence, though the way to it has been through your displeasure, I must violate the injunction you have laid upon me.'
'You know that you are free to do so, Sir,' said Edith. 'Do it.'
So pale, so trembling, so impassioned! He had not miscalculated the effect then!
'His instructions were,' he said, in a low voice, 'that I should inform you that your demeanour towards Miss Dombey is not agreeable to him. That it suggests comparisons to him which are not favourable to himself. That he desires it may be wholly changed; and that if you are in earnest, he is confident it will be; for your continued show of affection will not benefit its object.'
'That is a threat,' she said.
'That is a threat,' he answered, in his voiceless manner of assent: adding aloud, 'but not directed against you.'
Proud, erect, and dignified, as she stood confronting him; and looking through him as she did, with her full bright flashing eye; and smiling, as she was, with scorn and bitterness; she sunk as if the ground had dropped beneath her, and in an instant would have fallen on the floor, but that he caught her in his arms. As instantaneously she threw him off, the moment that he touched her, and, drawing back, confronted him again, immoveable, with her hand stretched out.
'Please to leave me. Say no more to-night.'
'I feel the urgency of this,' said Mr Carker, 'because it is impossible to say what unforeseen consequences might arise, or how soon, from your being unacquainted with his state of mind. I understand Miss Dombey is concerned, now, at the dismissal of her old servant, which is likely to have been a minor consequence in itself. You don't blame me for requesting that Miss Dombey might not be present. May I hope so?'
'I do not. Please to leave me, Sir.'
'I knew that your regard for the young lady, which is very sincere and strong, I am well persuaded, would render it a great unhappiness to you, ever to be a prey to the reflection that you had injured her position and ruined her future hopes,' said Carker hurriedly, but eagerly.
'No more to-night. Leave me, if you please.'
'I shall be here constantly in my attendance upon him, and in the transaction of business matters. You will allow me to see you again, and to consult what should be done, and learn your wishes?'
She motioned him towards the door.
'I cannot even decide whether to tell him I have spoken to you yet; or to lead him to suppose that I have deferred doing so, for want of opportunity, or for any other reason. It will be necessary that you should enable me to consult with you very soon.
'At any time but now,' she answered.
'You will understand, when I wish to see you, that Miss Dombey is not to be present; and that I seek an interview as one who has the happiness to possess your confidence, and who comes to render you every assistance in his power, and, perhaps, on many occasions, to ward off evil from her?'
Looking at him still with the same apparent dread of releasing him for a moment from the influence of her steady gaze, whatever that might be, she answered, 'Yes!' and once more bade him go.
He bowed, as if in compliance; but turning back, when he had nearly reached the door, said:
'I am forgiven, and have explained my fault. May I - for Miss Dombey's sake, and for my own - take your hand before I go?'
She gave him the gloved hand she had maimed last night. He took it in one of his, and kissed it, and withdrew. And when he had closed the door, he waved the hand with which he had taken hers, and thrust it in his breast.
Edith saw no one that night, but locked her door, and kept herself
alone.
She did not weep; she showed no greater agitation, outwardly, than when she was riding home. She laid as proud a head upon her pillow as she had borne in her carriage; and her prayer ran thus:
'May this man be a liar! For if he has spoken truth, she is lost to me, and I have no hope left!'
This man, meanwhile, went home musing to bed, thinking, with a dainty pleasure, how imperious her passion was, how she had sat before him in her beauty, with the dark eyes that had never turned away but once; how the white down had fluttered; how the bird's feathers had been strewn upon the ground.
那天伊迪丝独自一人出去，回家得早。只不过十点零几分钟，她的马车就往回开进了她所居住的街道。
她的脸上仍然保持着她先前化妆时同样故意装出的镇静，她头上的花环依旧环绕在同样冷静的、沉着的前额上。可是如果能够看到这些叶片和花朵被她激动易怒的手撕得粉碎，或者被她颤动的、不知所措的头在寻找休息的地方时破坏得不成样子的话，那么这倒要比它们装饰这平静的前额更好一些。这女人是这样执拗，这样难以接近，这样不屈不挠，因此人们会认为，什么也不能使她的性格温柔下来，生活中的一切只是使它变得更为强硬。
她到达门口，正要从马车里下来的时候，有一个人不声不响地从前厅中走出来，没有戴帽，站在那里，向她伸过手来。仆人已被他推开；她没有别的选择；只好扶着它，这时候她才知道这是谁的手。
“您的病人怎样了，先生？”她轻蔑地撇着嘴，问道。
“他好些了，”卡克回答道，“他恢复得很不错。那天晚上我就离开他了。”
她低下头，正沿着楼梯往上走去的时候，他跟在后面，在楼梯底下说道：
“夫人！我是否可以请求您接见一分钟？”
她停下脚步，回过头来。“现在不是个合适的时间，先生，我也累了。您的事情紧急吗？”
“很紧急，”卡克回答道，“既然我已很幸运地遇见了您，请允许我重复我的请求吧。”
她向下往他闪闪发光的嘴巴看了一会儿，他则向上望着穿着豪华的服装、站在上面的她，心里又想着，她是多么美丽啊。
“董贝小姐在哪里？”她大声地问仆人道。
“在起居室里，夫人。”
“领到那里去！”她又把眼睛转向楼梯底下向她注视着的先生，轻轻地点了点头，表示允许他在后面跟着，然后她继续向前走去。
“请原谅！夫人！董贝夫人！”曲意奉承、动作敏捷的卡克喊道，他在片刻之间就走在她的身边，“您是否允许我请求别让董贝小姐在场？”
她很快地看了她一眼，但仍跟先前一样保持着沉着镇静的态度。
“我不想让董贝小姐听到我所要说的话，”卡克低声说道，“至少，我想由您来决定她是不是要知道这些话的内容。我这是为了您着想。这是我对您应尽的责任。从我们上次会晤以后，如果我不这样做，那就荒谬了。”
她把眼光从他脸上慢慢地移开，转向仆人，说道，“领到别的房间去。”仆人把他们领到一间会客室里，迅速地点了灯，然后离开了。当仆人还在房间里的时候，他们一个字也没有说。伊迪丝威严地坐在壁炉旁的长沙发椅上；卡克先生，手里拿着帽子，眼睛向下看着地毯，稍稍隔开一点距离，站在她的前面。
“在我听您说之前，先生，”当门关上之后，伊迪丝说道，“我希望您先听我说。”
“能听到董贝夫人对我说话，”他回答道，“即使是对我进行我不应当受到的谴责，我也认为是极大的光荣；虽然我在各方面都不是她的仆人，但我也十分心甘情愿地服从她的这个愿望。”
“如果您刚才离开的那个人委托您来向我传递口讯的话，先生，”卡克先生抬起眼睛，仿佛想要装出惊奇的样子，但是她的眼光和他的相遇了；如果他想讲话的话，她也迫使他不能开口，“那么就别打算说了，因为我不会听它。我没有必要问您是不是为了这个差使到这里来的。最近几天我正等待着您。”
“为了这样的目的到这里来，完全违背我自己的意愿，这是我的不幸。”他回答道，“请允许我说，我到这里来有两个目的。那是其中的一个。”
“那个目的已经完结了，先生，”她回答道，“如果您要回到那个目的——”
“难道董贝夫人认为，我会违背她的禁令回到那个目的上去吗？”卡克走近一些，说道，“难道董贝夫人可能毫不考虑我的不幸处境，决心把我看成是跟向我发号施令的人不可分离的，因此故意极不公道地对待我吗？”
“先生，”伊迪丝用阴沉的眼光注视着他，愈来愈激动地说着；她的高傲的鼻孔张开了，发涨的脖子变得更粗大了，她所穿的一件长衣上的精致的白色的绒毛颤抖着，那件长衣不在意地披在她的肩膀上，她的肩膀是完全配得上与这白雪般的绒毛为邻的。“您为什么一直来要在我面前扮演这种角色，跟我谈什么对我丈夫的爱情与责任，还假装出您相信我的婚姻是幸福的，我是尊敬他的？您明明知道——您并不比我不清楚，先生，我从您的每一道眼光中看到这一点，从您所说的每一个字中听到这一点——，我们两人之间没有爱情，只有厌恶与轻蔑，我蔑视他的程度并不低于我由于从属于他而蔑视我自己的程度；您明明知道这些，为什么却还敢于这样侮辱我？不公道！如果我公道地对待您使我感受到的痛苦的话，如果我公道地对待您施加给我的侮辱的话，那么我应当把您杀了才好！”
她问他过去为什么要这样做。如果她不是被她的高傲、愤怒与自卑感蒙蔽了自己的眼睛的话——尽管她恶狠狠地看着他，但是她还是被蒙蔽住了——，那么她是能从他的脸上看到答复的。现在她表白了她的意见，要求他回答。
她看不到这个答复，也不理会他脸部的表情中是不是有这个答复。她只回想起她所忍受过和必须忍受的侮辱，回想起她所进行过和必须进行的思想斗争，并正因此而感到痛苦。
当她一动不动地回想起这些感情，而好像不是注视着他的时候，她从一只珍奇的、美丽的鸟儿的翅膀（它由一根金线悬挂在她的手腕上，作为扇子）上拔下羽毛，让它们像雨点般飘落在地上。
他在她的注视下没有退缩，而是保持着一个能够作出使人充分满意的答复而且可以立即作出这种答复的人的姿态，站在那里，直到她所无法控制的愤怒的表面迹象消退为止。这时候，他直望着她的冒着火星的眼睛，说道：
“夫人，”他说道，“我明白，在今天以前就明白，我没有得到您的好感，我也明白是什么原因。是的，我明白是什么原因。您这样直言不讳地对我谈话，我得到您的这种信任，心中觉得很宽慰——”
“信任！”她轻蔑地重复着说道。
他没有理会这一点。
“——我不打算隐瞒真情。是的，我从一开始确实就看出您对董贝先生没有爱情——它怎么可能在两个截然不同的人之间存在呢？我已经看到，在您心中产生了比漠不关心更为强烈的感情——在您那样的处境下，又怎么可能不这样呢？可是我用许多话冒昧地向您声称我知道这些情况，这是适当的吗？”
“那么，先生，”她回答道，“您过去假装出相信另外一种情形的样子，一天天厚颜无耻地故意在我面前摆弄，这是适当的吗？”
“是的，夫人，这是适当的，”他急切地答辩道，“如果以前我不是这样做，如果我是另外一种做法的话，那么我就不会像现在这样对您说了。而且我预见到——我与董贝先生相处的经验比谁都多，有谁能比我更好地预见到呢？——除非您的性格显得像他第一位恭顺的夫人那样百依百顺、唯命是从——而这一点我是不相信的——”
一个傲慢的微笑使他明白：他可以重复这些话。
“我说，这一点我是不相信的，是的，我预见到，总有一天我们是会像现在这样取得谅解的，而这种谅解是有益的。”
“对谁有益，先生？”她轻蔑地问道。
“对您。我不想说对我也有益，因为我警告过我自己，千万不要对董贝先生进行甚至是有限度的赞扬（我能正直地进行这种赞扬），以免对一位怀有如此强烈的厌恶与轻蔑情绪的人说出任何没趣的话来。”他富于表情地说道。
“先生，”伊迪丝说道，“您是他首要的顾问和谄媚者，您现在表白您对他进行‘有限度的赞扬’，甚至使用了轻蔑的语气，您这是正直的吗？”
“我是他的顾问，这不错，”卡克说道，“说我是他的诌媚者，这却不是。也许我应当承认我不是个毫无隐讳的人。我们当中许多人为了谋求自身的利益与方便，通常不得不表白一些我们实际并未体验过的感情。我们每天都有谋求利益与方便的伙伴关系，谋求利益与方便的友谊，谋求利益与方便的交易，谋求利益与方便的婚姻。”
她咬住血红的嘴唇，但依旧用阴沉的、严厉的眼光注视着他。
“夫人，”卡克先生在挨近她的一张椅子中坐下，用极为谦恭、极为关切的态度说道，“既然我是完全忠实地为您效劳的，为什么现在我要迟疑不决、不痛痛快快地说呢？自然，像您这样天赋卓越的夫人，认为把她丈夫的性格的某些方面加以改变，改造得更好一些，是可以做得到的。”
“对我来说，这不是自然的，先生，”她回答道，“我从来不曾有过这种期望或意图。”
高傲的、毫无畏惧的脸孔向他表明：她坚决不戴他所献上的假面具，而准备不顾一切地暴露她的真实面貌；对于她在他这样一个人面前会以什么样的面貌出现，她毫不在乎。
“至少这是自然的，”他继续说道，“您认为您完全可能作为妻子跟董贝先生生活在一起，既不服从他，同时又不跟他发生激烈的冲突。可是，夫人，如果您这样想的话，那么您还是不了解董贝先生（正如从那时以来您所已确信的），您不了解，他的要求是多么苛刻，他是多么高傲，或者，如果我可以这么说的话，他已成为他自己高贵身份的什么样的奴隶，像一匹驮兽一样，被套在他自己的凯旋车中，向前走着，心中只有一个念头，就是凯旋车就在他的身后，需要他越过一切，穿过一切向前拉。”
当他继续说下去的时候，他的牙齿由于恶意地品尝着这种高傲自负的滋味而闪发出亮光。
“董贝先生确实不能真正关怀您，夫人，就像不能真正关怀我一样。这样的对比是走到极端了——我故意作这样的对比——，但却是十分正确的。董贝先生运用他的赫赫权势，要求我成为他和您的中间人，这是他昨天亲口对我说的；他提出这个要求是因为他知道我不是您所喜欢的人，是因为他有意使我成为您抗拒他的一种惩罚，而且还因为他确实认为，我是由他支付薪金的一名奴仆；接见像我这样的一位使者，并不是有损于一位我有幸与她谈话的夫人的尊严（在他的心目中并不存在这样一位夫人），而只不过是有损于成为他本人一部分的他的妻子的尊严而已。您可以想象，当他直率地告诉我，把这个任务交给我来办的时候，他是多么不尊重我，多么不考虑我是否还有个人的情感或意见啊。您知道，当他用这样一个传话人来威胁您的时候，他对您的感情是多么完全漠不关心啊。当然，您没有忘记他做过的事情。”
她仍然专心致志地注视着他。但是他也注视着她；他看到，他对他所知道的她跟她丈夫之间发生的某些事情的这番暗示，像一支毒箭一样，刺伤了她傲慢的心胸，使它疼痛。
“我回顾这一切并不是想要扩大您和董贝先生之间的裂口，夫人，——上天不允许！这对我有什么好处呢？——而只不过是想举例说明，当涉及到董贝先生的时候，要想使他心里考虑考虑别人，是多么没有希望的事情。我敢说，我们这些在他周围的人，都在不同的地位上，尽了我们的一分力量，来加强他的这种思想方法；可是如果我们不这样做，其他的人也会这样做，要不然他们不会待在他的周围。从一开始，这一直是他生命的要素。总之，董贝先生只跟那些顺从他的人、依赖他的人打交道，这些人在他面前俯首听命，屈膝下跪。他从来不知道跟他对抗的愤怒的高傲与强烈的怨恨是什么。”
“可是现在他将会知道了！”她好像要这么说，虽然她的嘴唇没有张开，她的眼睛没有闪动。他看到，那柔软的绒毛又一次颤抖了；他看到，她把那只美丽的鸟儿的翅膀在胸前放了片刻；他从他蜷缩进去的线圈中又放出了一圈线。
“董贝先生虽然是一位极为可敬的绅士，”他说道，“但是当他心里所想的不符合实际的时候，他却动不动歪曲事实，按照他自己的观点来进行解释。比方说，——我能举出比这更好的例子吗？——在斯丘顿夫人逝世以前，他有一次对他现在的妻子曾经提出过严厉的意见（她可能会记得这一次吧），他真心相信（请原谅我将说出的话是多么愚蠢；它们并不是由于我的愚蠢而说出的），他的这些意见已经产生了使她畏缩的效果，他那时已使她完全屈服了！”
伊迪丝大笑起来。用不着去描写那笑声是多么刺耳，多么缺乏优美的声调。只要说他喜欢听到她笑，这就足够了。
“夫人，”他继续说道，“我这就说完了。您本人的见解是那么卓越，而且我相信，是那么不可改变，”他慢吞吞地，加重语气地重复着这些话语，“所以当我说，尽管董贝先生有这些缺点，我也很了解这些缺点，但我对他已逐渐习惯，而且尊敬他的时候，我几乎担心这又要引起您的不高兴了。但是，请相信我，我这样说的时候，我并不是为了要在您面前夸耀一种跟您本人的感情完全格格不入、也不会博得您同情的感情，”——啊，这是说得多么清楚、明白啊，还加重了语气呢！——“而是为了使您确信：在这件不幸的事情中，我是您多么热诚的奴仆，我对要求我来扮演的角色是感到多么愤慨啊！”
她仿佛害怕把眼睛从他脸上移开似地坐着。
好，现在该把线圈中的最后一圈放出去了！
“时间很晚了，”卡克沉默了一会儿之后，说道，“您说您也累了。但是我不应当忘记这次会晤的第二个目的。我应当劝告您，我应当用最恳切的态度请求您——我是有充分理由这样做的——，您在向董贝小姐显示关怀的时候千万要谨慎。”
“谨慎！您这话是什么意思？”
“请您小心，别向那位小姐表露出过分的慈爱。”
“过分的慈爱，先生！”伊迪丝站起来，说道，她宽阔的前额皱了起来。“谁来评判我的慈爱或衡量它的多少？是您吗？”
“不是我做这件事。”他露出或装出为难的神色。
“那么是谁？”
“难道您猜不出是谁吗？”
“我不想猜，”她回答道。
“夫人，”他稍稍迟疑了一下之后，说道；这时候他们仍旧像先前一样彼此注视着；“我现在处境困难。您对我说过，您将不接受我传递的任何口信，您禁止我回到这个话题上去，但是我感到这两个话题是这样紧密地相互联系着，所以除非您从一个虽然事前曾引起您的不快、但现在终于荣幸地得到您的信任的人那里接受这个含糊不清的警告，否则，我就必须违犯您对我所下的禁令了。”
“您知道，您现在可以随意这样做，先生，”伊迪丝说道，“说吧。”
她是那么苍白，那么颤抖，那么激动！看来他对结果没有估计错！
“他的指示是，”他低声说道，“我应当通知您，您对董贝小姐的态度使他不愉快。它启发他进行比较，这种比较对他是不利的。他希望完全改变这种情形；如果您认真对待这件事，那么他相信情形将会完全改变，因为您继续显示慈爱，是不会给您慈爱的对象带来益处的。”
“这是威胁，”她说道。
“这是威胁，”他无声地表示同意，回答道，接着大声说道，“但不是针对您的。”
她高傲地、坚毅地、尊严地站在他面前，用睁得大大的眼睛逼视着他，轻蔑地、痛苦地微笑着；突然间，她垂头丧气，仿佛脚底下的地面已经塌陷下去似的，要不是他用胳膊抱住她，她就会倒在地板上了。他刚一接触到她，她就立即把他推开，向后退却，然后伸出一只手，又一动不动地站在他面前。
“请离开我吧。今天晚上别再说什么了。”
“我感到这一个使命十分紧迫，”卡克先生说道，“因为如果您不了解他的心情的话，那么就很难说会在多么短促的时间里，发生什么样预见不到的后果。我知道，董贝小姐现在由于她的老仆人被解雇而感到悲伤，这件事情本身很可能就是一个小小的后果，您不责怪我先前请求董贝小姐不要在场了吧？我可以指望这一点吗？”
“我不责怪您。请离开我吧，先生。”
“我知道您对那位小姐的关怀是很真诚很深切的；我深信，这种关怀将使您陷入很大的不幸；每当您想到您已损害了她的地位，毁灭了她未来的希望的时候，您内心将永远感到痛苦。”卡克急忙地，然而热切地说道。
“今天晚上不再说什么了。对不起，请离开吧。”
“我将经常不断地到这里来侍候他和处理一些业务上的事情。您允许我跟您再见一次面，商量商量应当做什么，并了解一下您的愿望，好吗？”
她对他指着门。
“我甚至打不定主意，究意是把我跟您谈的话告诉他呢，还是让他猜想我由于没找到机会或由于其他原因，把这次谈话推迟了。您应当让我很快就来跟您商量。这是必要的。”
“除了现在，什么时候都行，”她回答道。
“您知道，当我想见您的时候，董贝小姐请不要在场。我请求您允许我作为一位有幸得到您的信任、想给您提供各种力所能及的援助、也许在好多情况下想使她避开灾祸的人来跟您会晤一次好吗？”
她像先前一样望着他，好像显然害怕把他从她目不转睛的注视中放开片刻似的；不论情况是否如此，她回答道，“好吧！”，并再一次请他离开。
他好像遵从她的意愿似地鞠了躬；但是当他就要走到门边的时候，他转过身来，说道：
“我得到了宽恕，并且已经解释了我的过失，看在董贝小姐的面上，也看在我的面上，我在离开之前可不可以接触一下您的手？”
她把带了手套的手递给他，这只手就是昨夜被她打伤了的。他把它握在他的一只手中，吻了吻，离开了。当他关上门之后，他挥摇着他握过她的手的那只手，然后把它藏进胸间。
Chapter 46
Recognizant and Reflective
Among sundry minor alterations in Mr Carker's life and habits that began to take place at this time, none was more remarkable than the extraordinary diligence with which he applied himself to business, and the closeness with which he investigated every detail that the affairs of the House laid open to him. Always active and penetrating in such matters, his lynx-eyed vigilance now increased twenty-fold. Not only did his weary watch keep pace with every present point that every day presented to him in some new form, but in the midst of these engrossing occupations he found leisure - that is, he made it - to review the past transactions of the Firm, and his share in them, during a long series of years. Frequently when the clerks were all gone, the offices dark and empty, and all similar places of business shut up, Mr Carker, with the whole anatomy of the iron room laid bare before him, would explore the mysteries of books and papers, with the patient progress of a man who was dissecting the minutest nerves and fibres of his subject. Perch, the messenger, who usually remained on these occasions, to entertain himself with the perusal of the Price Current by the light of one candle, or to doze over the fire in the outer office, at the imminent risk every moment of diving head foremost into the coal-box, could not withhold the tribute of his admiration from this zealous conduct, although it much contracted his domestic enjoyments; and again, and again, expatiated to Mrs Perch (now nursing twins) on the industry and acuteness of their managing gentleman in the City.
The same increased and sharp attention that Mr Carker bestowed on the business of the House, he applied to his own personal affairs. Though not a partner in the concern - a distinction hitherto reserved solely to inheritors of the great name of Dombey - he was in the receipt of some percentage on its dealings; and, participating in all its facilities for the employment of money to advantage, was considered, by the minnows among the tritons of the East, a rich man. It began to be said, among these shrewd observers, that Jem Carker, of Dombey's, was looking about him to see what he was worth; and that he was calling in his money at a good time, like the long-headed fellow he was; and bets were even offered on the Stock Exchange that Jem was going to marry a rich widow.
Yet these cares did not in the least interfere with Mr Carker's watching of his chief, or with his cleanness, neatness, sleekness, or any cat-like quality he possessed. It was not so much that there was a change in him, in reference to any of his habits, as that the whole man was intensified. Everything that had been observable in him before, was observable now, but with a greater amount of concentration. He did each single thing, as if he did nothing else - a pretty certain indication in a man of that range of ability and purpose, that he is doing something which sharpens and keeps alive his keenest powers.
The only decided alteration in him was, that as he rode to and fro along the streets, he would fall into deep fits of musing, like that in which he had come away from Mr Dombey's house, on the morning of that gentleman's disaster. At such times, he would keep clear of the obstacles in his way, mechanically; and would appear to see and hear nothing until arrival at his destination, or some sudden chance or effort roused him.
Walking his white-legged horse thus, to the counting-house of Dombey and Son one day, he was as unconscious of the observation of two pairs of women's eyes, as of the fascinated orbs of Rob the Grinder, who, in waiting a street's length from the appointed place, as a demonstration of punctuality, vainly touched and retouched his hat to attract attention, and trotted along on foot, by his master's side, prepared to hold his stirrup when he should alight.
'See where he goes!' cried one of these two women, an old creature, who stretched out her shrivelled arm to point him out to her companion, a young woman, who stood close beside her, withdrawn like herself into a gateway.
Mrs Brown's daughter looked out, at this bidding on the part of Mrs Brown; and there were wrath and vengeance in her face.
'I never thought to look at him again,' she said, in a low voice; 'but it's well I should, perhaps. I see. I see!'
'Not changed!' said the old woman, with a look of eager malice.
'He changed!' returned the other. 'What for? What has he suffered? There is change enough for twenty in me. Isn't that enough?'
'See where he goes!' muttered the old woman, watching her daughter with her red eyes; 'so easy and so trim a-horseback, while we are in the mud.'
'And of it,' said her daughter impatiently. 'We are mud, underneath his horse's feet. What should we be?'
In the intentness with which she looked after him again, she made a hasty gesture with her hand when the old woman began to reply, as if her view could be obstructed by mere sound. Her mother watching her, and not him, remained silent; until her kindling glance subsided, and she drew a long breath, as if in the relief of his being gone.
'Deary!' said the old woman then. 'Alice! Handsome gall Ally!' She gently shook her sleeve to arouse her attention. 'Will you let him go like that, when you can wring money from him? Why, it's a wickedness, my daughter.'
'Haven't I told you, that I will not have money from him?' she returned. 'And don't you yet believe me? Did I take his sister's money? Would I touch a penny, if I knew it, that had gone through his white hands - unless it was, indeed, that I could poison it, and send it back to him? Peace, mother, and come away.
'And him so rich?' murmured the old woman. 'And us so poor!'
'Poor in not being able to pay him any of the harm we owe him,' returned her daughter. 'Let him give me that sort of riches, and I'll take them from him, and use them. Come away. Its no good looking at his horse. Come away, mother!'
But the old woman, for whom the spectacle of Rob the Grinder returning down the street, leading the riderless horse, appeared to have some extraneous interest that it did not possess in itself, surveyed that young man with the utmost earnestness; and seeming to have whatever doubts she entertained, resolved as he drew nearer, glanced at her daughter with brightened eyes and with her finger on her lip, and emerging from the gateway at the moment of his passing, touched him on the shoulder.
'Why, where's my sprightly Rob been, all this time!' she said, as he turned round.
The sprightly Rob, whose sprightliness was very much diminished by the salutation, looked exceedingly dismayed, and said, with the water rising in his eyes:
'Oh! why can't you leave a poor cove alone, Misses Brown, when he's getting an honest livelihood and conducting himself respectable? What do you come and deprive a cove of his character for, by talking to him in the streets, when he's taking his master's horse to a honest stable - a horse you'd go and sell for cats' and dogs' meat if you had your way! Why, I thought,' said the Grinder, producing his concluding remark as if it were the climax of all his injuries, 'that you was dead long ago!'
'This is the way,' cried the old woman, appealing to her daughter, 'that he talks to me, who knew him weeks and months together, my deary, and have stood his friend many and many a time among the pigeon-fancying tramps and bird-catchers.'
'Let the birds be, will you, Misses Brown?' retorted Rob, in a tone of the acutest anguish. 'I think a cove had better have to do with lions than them little creeturs, for they're always flying back in your face when you least expect it. Well, how d'ye do and what do you want?' These polite inquiries the Grinder uttered, as it were under protest, and with great exasperation and vindictiveness.
'Hark how he speaks to an old friend, my deary!' said Mrs Brown, again appealing to her daughter. 'But there's some of his old friends not so patient as me. If I was to tell some that he knows, and has spotted and cheated with, where to find him - '
'Will you hold your tongue, Misses Brown?' interrupted the miserable Grinder, glancing quickly round, as though he expected to see his master's teeth shining at his elbow. 'What do you take a pleasure in ruining a cove for? At your time of life too! when you ought to be thinking of a variety of things!'
'What a gallant horse!' said the old woman, patting the animal's neck.
'Let him alone, will you, Misses Brown?' cried Rob, pushing away her hand. 'You're enough to drive a penitent cove mad!'
'Why, what hurt do I do him, child?' returned the old woman.
'Hurt?' said Rob. 'He's got a master that would find it out if he was touched with a straw.' And he blew upon the place where the old woman's hand had rested for a moment, and smoothed it gently with his finger, as if he seriously believed what he said.
The old woman looking back to mumble and mouth at her daughter, who followed, kept close to Rob's heels as he walked on with the bridle in his hand; and pursued the conversation.
'A good place, Rob, eh?' said she. 'You're in luck, my child.'
'Oh don't talk about luck, Misses Brown,' returned the wretched Grinder, facing round and stopping. 'If you'd never come, or if you'd go away, then indeed a cove might be considered tolerable lucky. Can't you go along, Misses Brown, and not foller me!' blubbered Rob, with sudden defiance. 'If the young woman's a friend of yours, why don't she take you away, instead of letting you make yourself so disgraceful!'
'What!' croaked the old woman, putting her face close to his, with a malevolent grin upon it that puckered up the loose skin down in her very throat. 'Do you deny your old chum! Have you lurked to my house fifty times, and slept sound in a corner when you had no other bed but the paving-stones, and do you talk to me like this! Have I bought and sold with you, and helped you in my way of business, schoolboy, sneak, and what not, and do you tell me to go along? Could I raise a crowd of old company about you to-morrow morning, that would follow you to ruin like copies of your own shadow, and do you turn on me with your bold looks! I'll go. Come, Alice.'
'Stop, Misses Brown!' cried the distracted Grinder. 'What are you doing of? Don't put yourself in a passion! Don't let her go, if you please. I haven't meant any offence. I said "how d'ye do," at first, didn't I? But you wouldn't answer. How you do? Besides,' said Rob piteously, 'look here! How can a cove stand talking in the street with his master's prad a wanting to be took to be rubbed down, and his master up to every individgle thing that happens!'
The old woman made a show of being partially appeased, but shook her head, and mouthed and muttered still.
'Come along to the stables, and have a glass of something that's good for you, Misses Brown, can't you?' said Rob, 'instead of going on, like that, which is no good to you, nor anybody else. Come along with her, will you be so kind?' said Rob. 'I'm sure I'm delighted to see her, if it wasn't for the horse!'
With this apology, Rob turned away, a rueful picture of despair, and walked his charge down a bye street' The old woman, mouthing at her daughter, followed close upon him. The daughter followed.
Turning into a silent little square or court-yard that had a great church tower rising above it, and a packer's warehouse, and a bottle-maker's warehouse, for its places of business, Rob the Grinder delivered the white-legged horse to the hostler of a quaint stable at the corner; and inviting Mrs Brown and her daughter to seat themselves upon a stone bench at the gate of that establishment, soon reappeared from a neighbouring public-house with a pewter measure and a glass.
'Here's master - Mr Carker, child!' said the old woman, slowly, as her sentiment before drinking. 'Lord bless him!'
'Why, I didn't tell you who he was,' observed Rob, with staring eyes.
'We know him by sight,' said Mrs Brown, whose working mouth and nodding head stopped for the moment, in the fixedness of her attention. 'We saw him pass this morning, afore he got off his horse; when you were ready to take it.'
'Ay, ay,' returned Rob, appearing to wish that his readiness had carried him to any other place. - 'What's the matter with her? Won't she drink?'
This inquiry had reference to Alice, who, folded in her cloak, sat a little apart, profoundly inattentive to his offer of the replenished glass.
The old woman shook her head. 'Don't mind her,' she said; 'she's a strange creetur, if you know'd her, Rob. But Mr Carker
'Hush!' said Rob, glancing cautiously up at the packer's, and at the bottle-maker's, as if, from any one of the tiers of warehouses, Mr Carker might be looking down. 'Softly.'
'Why, he ain't here!' cried Mrs Brown.
'I don't know that,' muttered Rob, whose glance even wandered to the church tower, as if he might be there, with a supernatural power of hearing.
'Good master?' inquired Mrs Brown.
Rob nodded; and added, in a low voice, 'precious sharp.'
'Lives out of town, don't he, lovey?' said the old woman.
'When he's at home,' returned Rob; 'but we don't live at home just now.'
'Where then?' asked the old woman.
'Lodgings; up near Mr Dombey's,' returned Rob.
The younger woman fixed her eyes so searchingly upon him, and so suddenly, that Rob was quite confounded, and offered the glass again, but with no more effect upon her than before.
'Mr Dombey - you and I used to talk about him, sometimes, you know,' said Rob to Mrs Brown. 'You used to get me to talk about him.'
The old woman nodded.
'Well, Mr Dombey, he's had a fall from his horse,' said Rob, unwillingly; 'and my master has to be up there, more than usual, either with him, or Mrs Dombey, or some of 'em; and so we've come to town.'
'Are they good friends, lovey?'asked the old woman.
'Who?' retorted Rob.
'He and she?'
'What, Mr and Mrs Dombey?' said Rob. 'How should I know!'
'Not them - Master and Mrs Dombey, chick,' replied the old woman, coaxingly.
'I don't know,' said Rob, looking round him again. 'I suppose so. How curious you are, Misses Brown! Least said, soonest mended.'
'Why there's no harm in it!' exclaimed the old woman, with a laugh, and a clap of her hands. 'Sprightly Rob, has grown tame since he has been well off! There's no harm in It.
'No, there's no harm in it, I know,' returned Rob, with the same distrustful glance at the packer's and the bottle-maker's, and the church; 'but blabbing, if it's only about the number of buttons on my master's coat, won't do. I tell you it won't do with him. A cove had better drown himself. He says so. I shouldn't have so much as told you what his name was, if you hadn't known it. Talk about somebody else.'
As Rob took another cautious survey of the yard, the old woman made a secret motion to her daughter. It was momentary, but the daughter, with a slight look of intelligence, withdrew her eyes from the boy's face, and sat folded in her cloak as before.
'Rob, lovey!' said the old woman, beckoning him to the other end of the bench. 'You were always a pet and favourite of mine. Now, weren't you? Don't you know you were?'
'Yes, Misses Brown,' replied the Grinder, with a very bad grace.
'And you could leave me!' said the old woman, flinging her arms about his neck. 'You could go away, and grow almost out of knowledge, and never come to tell your poor old friend how fortunate you were, proud lad! Oho, Oho!'
'Oh here's a dreadful go for a cove that's got a master wide awake in the neighbourhood!' exclaimed the wretched Grinder. 'To be howled over like this here!'
'Won't you come and see me, Robby?' cried Mrs Brown. 'Oho, won't you ever come and see me?'
'Yes, I tell you! Yes, I will!' returned the Grinder.
'That's my own Rob! That's my lovey!' said Mrs Brown, drying the tears upon her shrivelled face, and giving him a tender squeeze. 'At the old place, Rob?'
'Yes,' replied the Grinder.
'Soon, Robby dear?' cried Mrs Brown; 'and often?'
'Yes. Yes. Yes,' replied Rob. 'I will indeed, upon my soul and body.'
'And then,' said Mrs Brown, with her arms uplifted towards the sky, and her head thrown back and shaking, 'if he's true to his word, I'll never come a-near him though I know where he is, and never breathe a syllable about him! Never!'
This ejaculation seemed a drop of comfort to the miserable Grinder, who shook Mrs Brown by the hand upon it, and implored her with tears in his eyes, to leave a cove and not destroy his prospects. Mrs Brown, with another fond embrace, assented; but in the act of following her daughter, turned back, with her finger stealthily raised, and asked in a hoarse whisper for some money.
'A shilling, dear!' she said, with her eager avaricious face, 'or sixpence! For old acquaintance sake. I'm so poor. And my handsome gal' - looking over her shoulder - 'she's my gal, Rob - half starves me.
But as the reluctant Grinder put it in her hand, her daughter, coming quietly back, caught the hand in hen, and twisted out the coin.
'What,' she said, 'mother! always money! money from the first, and to the last' Do you mind so little what I said but now? Here. Take it!'
The old woman uttered a moan as the money was restored, but without in any other way opposing its restoration, hobbled at her daughter's side out of the yard, and along the bye street upon which it opened. The astonished and dismayed Rob staring after them, saw that they stopped, and fell to earnest conversation very soon; and more than once observed a darkly threatening action of the younger woman's hand (obviously having reference to someone of whom they spoke), and a crooning feeble imitation of it on the part of Mrs Brown, that made him earnestly hope he might not be the subject of their discourse.
With the present consolation that they were gone, and with the prospective comfort that Mrs Brown could not live for ever, and was not likely to live long to trouble him, the Grinder, not otherwise regretting his misdeeds than as they were attended with such disagreeable incidental consequences, composed his ruffled features to a more serene expression by thinking of the admirable manner in which he had disposed of Captain Cuttle (a reflection that seldom failed to put him in a flow of spirits), and went to the Dombey Counting House to receive his master's orders.
There his master, so subtle and vigilant of eye, that Rob quaked before him, more than half expecting to be taxed with Mrs Brown, gave him the usual morning's box of papers for Mr Dombey, and a note for Mrs Dombey: merely nodding his head as an enjoinder to be careful, and to use dispatch - a mysterious admonition, fraught in the Grinder's imagination with dismal warnings and threats; and more powerful with him than any words.
Alone again, in his own room, Mr Carker applied himself to work, and worked all day. He saw many visitors; overlooked a number of documents; went in and out, to and from, sundry places of mercantile resort; and indulged in no more abstraction until the day's business was done. But, when the usual clearance of papers from his table was made at last, he fell into his thoughtful mood once more.
He was standing in his accustomed place and attitude, with his eyes intently fixed upon the ground, when his brother entered to bring back some letters that had been taken out in the course of the day. He put them quietly on the table, and was going immediately, when Mr Carker the Manager, whose eyes had rested on him, on his entrance, as if they had all this time had him for the subject of their contemplation, instead of the office-floor, said:
'Well, John Carker, and what brings you here?'
His brother pointed to the letters, and was again withdrawing.
'I wonder,' said the Manager, 'that you can come and go, without inquiring how our master is'.
'We had word this morning in the Counting House, that Mr Dombey was doing well,' replied his brother.
'You are such a meek fellow,' said the Manager, with a smile, - 'but you have grown so, in the course of years - that if any harm came to him, you'd be miserable, I dare swear now.'
'I should be truly sorry, James,' returned the other.
'He would be sorry!' said the Manager, pointing at him, as if there were some other person present to whom he was appealing. 'He would be truly sorry! This brother of mine! This junior of the place, this slighted piece of lumber, pushed aside with his face to the wall, like a rotten picture, and left so, for Heaven knows how many years he's all gratitude and respect, and devotion too, he would have me believe!'
'I would have you believe nothing, James,' returned the other. 'Be as just to me as you would to any other man below you. You ask a question, and I answer it.'
'And have you nothing, Spaniel,' said the Manager, with unusual irascibility, 'to complain of in him? No proud treatment to resent, no insolence, no foolery of state, no exaction of any sort! What the devil! are you man or mouse?'
'It would be strange if any two persons could be together for so many years, especially as superior and inferior, without each having something to complain of in the other - as he thought, at all events, replied John Carker. 'But apart from my history here - '
'His history here!' exclaimed the Manager. 'Why, there it is. The very fact that makes him an extreme case, puts him out of the whole chapter! Well?'
'Apart from that, which, as you hint, gives me a reason to be thankful that I alone (happily for all the rest) possess, surely there is no one in the House who would not say and feel at least as much. You do not think that anybody here would be indifferent to a mischance or misfortune happening to the head of the House, or anything than truly sorry for it?'
'You have good reason to be bound to him too!' said the Manager, contemptuously. 'Why, don't you believe that you are kept here, as a cheap example, and a famous instance of the clemency of Dombey and Son, redounding to the credit of the illustrious House?'
'No,' replied his brother, mildly, 'I have long believed that I am kept here for more kind and disinterested reasons.
'But you were going,' said the Manager, with the snarl of a tiger-cat, 'to recite some Christian precept, I observed.'
'Nay, James,' returned the other, 'though the tie of brotherhood between us has been long broken and thrown away - '
'Who broke it, good Sir?' said the Manager.
'I, by my misconduct. I do not charge it upon you.'
The Manager replied, with that mute action of his bristling mouth, 'Oh, you don't charge it upon me!' and bade him go on.
'I say, though there is not that tie between us, do not, I entreat, assail me with unnecessary taunts, or misinterpret what I say, or would say. I was only going to suggest to you that it would be a mistake to suppose that it is only you, who have been selected here, above all others, for advancement, confidence and distinction (selected, in the beginning, I know, for your great ability and trustfulness), and who communicate more freely with Mr Dombey than anyone, and stand, it may be said, on equal terms with him, and have been favoured and enriched by him - that it would be a mistake to suppose that it is only you who are tender of his welfare and reputation. There is no one in the House, from yourself down to the lowest, I sincerely believe, who does not participate in that feeling.'
'You lie!' said the Manager, red with sudden anger. 'You're a hypocrite, John Carker, and you lie.'
'James!' cried the other, flushing in his turn. 'What do you mean by these insulting words? Why do you so basely use them to me, unprovoked?'
'I tell you,' said the Manager, 'that your hypocrisy and meekness - that all the hypocrisy and meekness of this place - is not worth that to me,' snapping his thumb and finger, 'and that I see through it as if it were air! There is not a man employed here, standing between myself and the lowest in place (of whom you are very considerate, and with reason, for he is not far off), who wouldn't be glad at heart to see his master humbled: who does not hate him, secretly: who does not wish him evil rather than good: and who would not turn upon him, if he had the power and boldness. The nearer to his favour, the nearer to his insolence; the closer to him, the farther from him. That's the creed here!'
'I don't know,' said his brother, whose roused feelings had soon yielded to surprise, 'who may have abused your ear with such representations; or why you have chosen to try me, rather than another. But that you have been trying me, and tampering with me, I am now sure. You have a different manner and a different aspect from any that I ever saw m you. I will only say to you, once more, you are deceived.'
'I know I am,' said the Manager. 'I have told you so.'
'Not by me,' returned his brother. 'By your informant, if you have one. If not, by your own thoughts and suspicions.'
'I have no suspicions,' said the Manager. 'Mine are certainties. You pusillanimous, abject, cringing dogs! All making the same show, all canting the same story, all whining the same professions, all harbouring the same transparent secret.'
His brother withdrew, without saying more, and shut the door as he concluded. Mr Carker the Manager drew a chair close before the fire, and fell to beating the coals softly with the poker.
'The faint-hearted, fawning knaves,' he muttered, with his two shining rows of teeth laid bare. 'There's not one among them, who wouldn't feign to be so shocked and outraged - ! Bah! There's not one among them, but if he had at once the power, and the wit and daring to use it, would scatter Dombey's pride and lay it low, as ruthlessly as I rake out these ashes.'
As he broke them up and strewed them in the grate, he looked on with a thoughtful smile at what he was doing. 'Without the same queen beckoner too!' he added presently; 'and there is pride there, not to be forgotten - witness our own acquaintance!' With that he fell into a deeper reverie, and sat pondering over the blackening grate, until he rose up like a man who had been absorbed in a book, and looking round him took his hat and gloves, went to where his horse was waiting, mounted, and rode away through the lighted streets, for it was evening.
He rode near Mr Dombey's house; and falling into a walk as he approached it, looked up at the windows The window where he had once seen Florence sitting with her dog attracted his attention first, though there was no light in it; but he smiled as he carried his eyes up the tall front of the house, and seemed to leave that object superciliously behind.
'Time was,' he said, 'when it was well to watch even your rising little star, and know in what quarter there were clouds, to shadow you if needful. But a planet has arisen, and you are lost in its light.'
He turned the white-legged horse round the street corner, and sought one shining window from among those at the back of the house. Associated with it was a certain stately presence, a gloved hand, the remembrance how the feathers of a beautiful bird's wing had been showered down upon the floor, and how the light white down upon a robe had stirred and rustled, as in the rising of a distant storm. These were the things he carried with him as he turned away again, and rode through the darkening and deserted Parks at a quick rate.
In fatal truth, these were associated with a woman, a proud woman, who hated him, but who by slow and sure degrees had been led on by his craft, and her pride and resentment, to endure his company, and little by little to receive him as one who had the privilege to talk to her of her own defiant disregard of her own husband, and her abandonment of high consideration for herself. They were associated with a woman who hated him deeply, and who knew him, and who mistrusted him because she knew him, and because he knew her; but who fed her fierce resentment by suffering him to draw nearer and yet nearer to her every day, in spite of the hate she cherished for him. In spite of it! For that very reason; since in its depths, too far down for her threatening eye to pierce, though she could see into them dimly, lay the dark retaliation, whose faintest shadow seen once and shuddered at, and never seen again, would have been sufficient stain upon her soul.
Did the phantom of such a woman flit about him on his ride; true to the reality, and obvious to him?
Yes. He saw her in his mind, exactly as she was. She bore him company with her pride, resentment, hatred, all as plain to him as her beauty; with nothing plainer to him than her hatred of him. He saw her sometimes haughty and repellent at his side, and some times down among his horse's feet, fallen and in the dust. But he always saw her as she was, without disguise, and watched her on the dangerous way that she was going.
And when his ride was over, and he was newly dressed, and came into the light of her bright room with his bent head, soft voice, and soothing smile, he saw her yet as plainly. He even suspected the mystery of the gloved hand, and held it all the longer in his own for that suspicion. Upon the dangerous way that she was going, he was, still; and not a footprint did she mark upon it, but he set his own there, straight'
这时候在卡克先生的生活与习惯中开始发生各种微小的变化，最引人注目的是，他异常勤勉地致力于公司的业务，并精心研究摆在他面前的公司各项交易的细节。他对这些事情本来一直是感觉灵敏、观察细致的，现在他的山猫眼睛般的警觉性又增加了二十倍。不仅仅是他疲累的眼睛密切注视着每天以某种新形式出现在他面前的当前的各种情况，而且他还从这些耗费精力的繁忙工作中找到闲暇时间（这是他设法挤出来的）来重新审查公司过去许多年中的交易以及他所参与的部分。时常，当公司的职员都走了，办公室黑暗无人，所有的业务机构也都已关闭了的时候，保险柜里的一切东西都像解剖开的身体一样摊开在卡克先生的面前，他则像一位医生正在仔细剖析他的病人的最微细的神经与纤维那样，耐心地探索着帐册与单据中的秘密。在这种情况下，信差珀奇先生通常留在外面的办公室中，在一支蜡烛的亮光下，阅读行市表消遣，或者对着炉火打瞌睡，每分钟都可能发生头向下撞进煤箱里去的危险。虽然这大大地缩短了他家庭娱乐的时间，但他对卡克先生这种热心工作的表现却不能不大加赞扬。他向珀奇太太（她现在抚养着一对双胞胎）一遍又一遍地详细谈论着他们城里经理先生的勤勉与精明。
卡克先生以对待公司业务同样增强的、敏锐的注意力来处理他的个人事务。他虽然不是公司的合伙人（迄今为止，只有董贝这个伟大姓氏的继承人才能享有这个光荣的称号），但他从它的交易中收取一定的佣金；而且，他还参与公司的有利的投资活动，所以在东方贸易业巨鲸四周的小鱼儿们都把他看成是一位阔老。机灵的观察者们开始谈论，董贝公司的杰姆•卡克在计算他的资本；他是个聪明人，正在合适的时候收回他的钱；在证券交易所里甚至有人打赌说，杰姆将要娶一位有钱的寡妇。
不过这些丝毫也不妨碍卡克先生侍候他的老板，也丝毫不妨碍他保持干净、整洁、圆滑或任何猫般的特性。与其说他的习惯有什么变化，还不如说他整个人比过去更精练了。在他身上过去可以看到的一切东西，现在仍然可以看得到，只是现在表现得更为集中罢了。他做每件事情的时候，就仿佛他不做任何其他的事情似的；——对一位具有这样能力与意图的人来说，这相当明确地表明，他正在做某件事情来磨练与激励他最敏锐的才能。
他的唯一显著的变化是，当他骑着马在街上来来去去的时候，他深深地陷入沉思之中，就像董贝先生遭到不幸的那天早上，他从那位先生家里走出来时的情形一样。在这种时候，他不假思索地自动避开路上的一切障碍物，好像什么也没有看见，什么也没有听见，一直到达目的地为止，除非突然发生什么意外的事情或突然需要作出什么努力，才能使他从沉思中惊醒过来。
有一天他这样骑着他的白腿的马，向董贝父子公司的办公室行进的时候，他既没有留意到两位女人的眼睛在注视着他，也没有留意到磨工罗布为了表明他严守时间，正在离指定地点更近一条街的地方等候着他，圆圆的眼睛正被他吸引住；罗布徒劳地一次又一次把手举到帽檐向他行礼，以便吸引他的注意，然后在他主人身旁急匆匆地走着，准备在他下马的时候立即抓住马蹬。
“看，他骑过去了！”这两位女人当中的一位喊道；她是一位老太婆，伸出满是皱纹的手，把他指给她的同伴看；她的同伴是一位年轻女人，站在她的身旁，跟他一样退避到一个门道里。
布朗太太的女儿沿着布朗太太指点的方向望出去，脸上露出愤怒与渴望报仇的神色。
“我从来没有想到会再见到他，”她低声说道；“不过也许我见到他是件好事。我看到了。我看到了！”
“样子没有变化！”老太婆十分怨恨地看了一眼，说道。
“他变化！”另外一位回答道。“为什么会变化？他受过什么苦吗？我一个人的变化抵得上二十个人的。难道这还不够吗？”
“看，他往那里骑过去了！”老太婆用发红的眼睛注视着她的女儿，嘟囔着说道，“那么悠闲自在，那么整洁漂亮，还骑着马，而我们却站在污泥里——”
“而且是从污泥里出来的，”她的女儿不耐烦地说道，“我们是他马蹄下的污泥。我们还能是什么？”
她又用全神贯注的眼光从后面望着他；当老太婆想要回答的时候，她急忙摇摇手，仿佛连也会阻挡她的视线似的。她的母亲注视着她，而没有注视他，并保持着沉默，直到后来那冒着火星的眼睛平静下来了，她又深深地吸了一口气，仿佛由于看不到他而感到安慰似的。
“宝贝！”这时候老太婆说道。“艾丽斯！漂亮的女儿！艾丽！”她慢慢地摇摆着她的袖子来引起她的注意。“你是能从他那里敲出钱来的呀，你就让他那样过去吗？唔，这是罪恶，我的女儿。”
“难道我没有告诉过你，我不要他的钱吗？”她回答道。
“难道你到现在还不相信我吗？我曾接受过他姐姐的钱了吗？如果我知道有什么钱通过他雪白的手送来的，难道我会去摸一个便士吗？除非我能在上面涂上毒药，再送还给他！别说了，妈妈，我们离开这里吧。”
“让他那么有钱？”老太婆嘟囔着，“而我们就这么穷苦可怜！”
“我们可怜，是由于他给我们造成了伤害，而我们却不能对他报仇雪恨；”女儿回答道，“让他给我那种财富吧，我将从他那里取得它并使用它。走吧，看他的马没有用。走吧，妈妈！”
但是老太婆这时看到磨工罗布牵着没有人骑着的马，沿着街道回来，她好像产生了超出这件事情本身的某种兴趣，非常认真地打量着这位年轻人。当他走近的时候，她好像要解决心头的什么疑问似的，用炯炯有神的眼睛看了她女儿一眼，并把一个指头贴在嘴唇上；当他正从这里经过的时候，她从门道里走出来，碰了一下他的肩膀。
“喂，我活泼的罗布这些时候都在哪里呀？”他回过头来时候，她问道。
活泼的罗布听到这个问候，减少了不少活泼，表现出十分惊愕的样子，眼中含着泪水，说道：
“啊，布朗太太，一个可怜的小伙子正在规规矩矩地挣钱过活，体体面面地做人，您为什么不让他平平静静地过日子，不去打搅他呢？他正把他主人的马牵到一个规矩可靠的马厩去，您为什么跑过来，在街道上跟他讲话，败坏他的名声呢？——这匹马要是由您去处理的话，您是会把它卖掉，再买肉来喂猫喂狗的！哎呀，我还以为，”磨工说了一句结尾的话，仿佛他所受的一切委屈已到达顶点似的，“您老早以前就已死掉了呢！”
“我亲爱的，”老太婆向她的女儿大声哀诉道，“我认识他已有好多个星期、好多个月了；有好多次，那些卖鸽子的流浪者和捉鸽子的人欺负他，都是我帮助了他，可是他现在竟这样对我说话！”
“让那些鸟儿安安静静，别去打扰它们吧，好不好，布朗太太？”罗布用极度痛苦的声调反驳道，“我想，一个年轻小伙子最好是跟狮子打交道，而不要去跟这些小东西打交道，因为它们常常会在您最意想不到的时候飞回到您的脸上来。唔，您好吗？您需要什么？”罗布说出这些有礼貌的话，仿佛是极不愿意，极为激愤和怨恨似的。
“你听，我的宝贝，他是怎样跟一位老朋友讲话的！”布朗太太又向她女儿哀诉道，“但是他有几位老朋友可不像我这么耐性。如果我去告诉几个他认识、他曾经跟他们玩乐，并欺骗过他们的朋友，到哪里去找到他的话——”
“您住嘴好不好，布朗太太？”可怜的磨工打断她的话，说道，一边迅速地向四周看了一眼，仿佛预料会在近旁看到他的主人的牙齿正在闪发出亮光似的，“您想毁掉一个年轻小伙子来取乐，这是为什么呢？像您这样岁数的人，本应该想各种各样事情的，为什么还要这样呢？”
“多么雄壮的马！”老太婆拍拍马背，说道。
“别去动他好不好，布朗太太？”罗布把她的手推开，大声喊道，“您真要把一位悔过自新的年轻小伙子逼得发疯了！”
“嘿，我伤害它什么啦，孩子？”老太婆回答道。
“伤害？”罗布说道，“您就是用稻草碰它一下，它的主人也能发觉。”他把老太婆的手碰过的地方吹了吹，用手指轻轻地把它抚平，仿佛他当真相信他所说的话似的。
老太婆回头望了望跟随在后面的女儿，向她嘀咕了一句并歪歪嘴巴；当罗布手里拿着缰绳继续向前走去的时候，她紧紧跟在他的后面，继续和他交谈。
“你有了个好差使了，罗布，是不是？”她说道，“你走运了，我的孩子。”
“唉，别谈走运了，布朗太太，”可怜的磨工左顾右盼，停住脚步，回答道，“如果您没有遇见我，或者如果您走开的话，那么，说实在的，一位年轻小伙子可以说是相当走运了。您离开我吧，布朗太太，别在我后面跟着！”罗布突然反抗地哇哇大哭起来，“如果那位年轻的女人是您的一位朋友的话，那么她为什么不把您领开，而让您这样丢脸呢！”
“什么！”老太婆用哭丧的说道，一边把脸凑近他的脸，对它龇牙咧嘴地笑了笑，她脖子上松弛的皮肤都因而往下垂挂着了。“你竟翻脸不认你的老朋友了！过去当你除了石砌的道路，找不到别的床铺的时候，难道你不曾五十次偷偷地躲藏在我家里，在角落里呼呼大睡吗？现在你竟居然这样对我这样说话！难道我过去不曾跟你一道去买卖，还帮助你这小学生偷偷地逃学，还有什么我不曾做过的，而你现在竟居然叫我走开！难道我不能在明天早上把你过去的一群伙伴召集起来，像你的许多影子一样，跟随着你，把你彻底搞垮吗？你现在竟居然放肆无礼地看着我！我就走。艾丽斯，我们走吧！”
“站住，布朗太太！”心烦意乱的磨工喊道，“您这是干什么来着？您别生气！请别让她走。我完全不想冒犯您。我开头的时候不是对您说过，‘您好吗？’是不是？可是您不愿意回答。您好吗？还有一点，”罗布可怜巴巴地说道，“请听我说！一位年轻小伙子需要把他主人的马牵去洗刷干净，而他的主人又是个什么丁点小事都能觉察出来的人，这时他怎么能站在街上跟人讲话呢？”
老太婆装出稍稍息怒的样子，但仍然摇着头，歪着嘴巴，嘟囔着。
“跟我到马厩去，喝一杯对您身体有益的东西，好不好，布朗太太？”罗布说道，“不要像现在这样闲荡着，那对您，对其他任何人都没有好处。您肯不肯跟她一道跟我来？”罗布说道，“说真的，要不是有这匹马的话，我真高兴见到她！”
罗布这样赔了礼之后，拐了一个弯，牵着马沿着一条小街走去，这时他那神态真是一幅悲观绝望的悲惨图景。老太婆向她女儿歪歪嘴，紧紧跟在他后面。女儿随后跟着。
他们转进一个寂静的小广场，或者说得正确些，一个院子里。一座雄伟的教堂钟楼巍然耸立在这里，还有一个包装作坊的仓库和一个酒瓶厂的仓库也坐落在这里。磨工罗布把那匹白腿的马交给院子角落里一所旧式马厩的马夫，请布朗太太和她的女儿坐在马厩门口的石长凳上，不久他就从邻近的酒吧里出来，拿着一只白镴的酒壶和一只酒杯。
“孩子，为你的主人卡克先生的健康干杯！”老太婆在喝酒之前慢吞吞地说出她的祝愿。“天主保佑他！”
“怎么！我以前没跟您说过我的主人是谁啊？”罗布眼睛张得大大地说道。
“我们认得他，”布朗太太说道，她专心致志地注视着他，连她那动作着的嘴巴和摇晃着的脑袋也暂停了片刻。“我们今天早上看到他从我们身边经过，后来他下了马，你在那里等着把它牵走。”
“是的，是的，”罗布回答道，好像后悔没有在任何别的地方等候他似的。——“她怎么了？她为什么不喝？”
这个问题是指艾丽斯而提出的。她紧裹在斗篷里，坐在稍稍离开一点的地方，对他递上来的重新斟满的酒杯丝毫也不理会。
老太婆摇摇头。“别管她，”她说道；“如果你了解她的话，你就会知道她是个古怪的人，罗布。可是卡克先生——”
“别作声！”罗布说道，一边偷偷地朝包装作坊的仓库和酒瓶厂的仓库张望，仿佛卡克先生可能会从这些仓库的任何一排房屋中往这边窥视似的。“说得轻一点。”
“唔，他不在这里！”布朗太太喊道。
“我不知道这，”罗布嘟囔道，他甚至朝教堂钟楼看了一眼，仿佛具有超自然听觉的卡克先生可能躲藏在那里似的。
“他是一位好主人吧？”布朗太太问道。
罗布点点头，又低声补充了一句，“非常精明厉害。”
“他住在城外，是不是，亲爱的孩子？”老太婆问道。
“当他在家里的时候，他是住在城外，”罗布回答道，“可是我们现在不住在家里。”
“那么住在哪里呢？”老太婆问道。
“住在一栋出租的房屋里，跟董贝先生的家很挨近的，”罗布回答道。
年轻的女人眼睛那么锐利地、那么突然地注视着他，弄得罗布十分惊慌失措；他又向她递过酒杯，但跟先前一样没有成功。
“董贝先生——您知道，有时候，您和我常常谈到他，”罗布对布朗太太说道，“您过去常常想法让我谈到他。”
老太婆点点头。
“唔，董贝先生，他从马上摔下来了，”罗布不愿意地说道，“我的主人不得不比往常更多次地到那里去，不是跟他在一起，就是跟董贝夫人在一起，再不就是跟他们当中的什么人在一起，所以我们就搬到城里去住了。”
“他们是不是好朋友，亲爱的孩子？”老太婆问道。
“谁？”罗布反问道。
“他跟她？”
“什么，董贝先生跟董贝夫人吗？”罗布说道，“这我怎么能知道！”
“不是说他们，小宝宝，我是说你的主人跟董贝夫人，”老太婆哄着他，回答道。
“我不知道，”罗布又向四周看看，说道，“我猜想是这样。
您的好奇心多重呵，布朗太太！言多必失，少说为好。”
“哎呀，这没有什么害处！”老太婆大笑了一声，拍了一拍手，高声说道，“活泼的罗布走运之后变得驯服了！这没有什么害处。”
“是的，我知道，这没有什么害处，”罗布回答道，一边像先前一样怀疑地看了看包装作坊的仓库、酒瓶工厂的仓库和教堂的钟楼；“但是决不能泄漏秘密，哪怕只是谈谈我主人上衣的钮扣也不行。我告诉您，这种事他是不容许的。要不然，一位年轻小伙子还不如把自己淹死更好一些。他就是这样说的。如果您不知道的话，我连他的名字也不会告诉您。让我们谈谈别的什么人吧。”
当罗布又小心翼翼地向院子里察看的时候，老太婆暗地里向她女儿作了个示意的动作，这是一刹那的工夫，但是她的女儿表示领会，就把眼光从孩子的脸上移回，像先前一样紧裹在她的斗篷里。
“罗布，亲爱的！”老太婆招呼他在长凳的另一端坐下。
“你过去是我宠爱的宝贝孩子。是的，可不是这样吗？难道你不知道你过去是这样的吗？”
“我知道，布朗太太，”磨工很勉强地回答道。
“可是你却能忍心把我抛弃！”老太婆用胳膊搂着他的脖子，说道，“你却能忍心离开我，躲藏得几乎无影无踪，也从来不跟你的老朋友说说你已交了多么好的运气，你这个骄傲的孩子呀！嗬嗬，嗬嗬！”
“唉，一位年轻的小伙子在这里这样嚎啕大哭着，而他的主人就在附近留神瞧着，这对他是多么可怕的事啊！”不幸的磨工高声喊道。
“你以后不来看看我吗，罗贝？”布朗太太喊道，“嗬嗬，你以后就一次也不来看看我吗？”
“会来看您的，我告诉您！是的，我会来的！”磨工回答道。
“这才是我的好罗布啊！这才是我的好宝宝啊！”布朗太太说道，一边擦干她干瘪的脸上的眼泪，亲切地紧抱着他。
“还是到老地方来吧，罗布？”
“行，”磨工回答道。
“不久就来，亲爱的罗贝？”布朗太太喊道；“而且经常来？”
“行。行。是的，”罗布回答说，“以我的灵魂和肉体发誓，我一定来。”
“既然是这样，”布朗太太把手举向天空，把头往后一仰，并摇晃着，“虽然我知道他住在哪里，但如果他信守他的诺言的话，那么我就不到他那里去，而且我一个字也决不会谈到他！决不会！”
这声喊叫对可怜的磨工似乎是一丝安慰，他握握布朗太太的手，眼里含着泪水，请求她别去打扰一位年轻小伙子，别去破坏他的前程。布朗太太又亲热地拥抱了他一次，表示同意；但是当她正要跟女儿离开的时候，她又转过身来，偷偷地举起一个指头，用嘶哑的凑着他的耳朵，求他给一点钱。
“一先令，亲爱的！”她露出急切的、贪婪的脸色，说道，“要不六便士也行！看在老熟人的面子上。我是这么穷。而我漂亮的女儿，”——她回过头去望了望——“她是我的女儿，罗布，她让我过着半饥半饱的生活。”
可是当罗布勉勉强强地把钱塞到她手里的时候，她的女儿却悄悄地转过身来，抓住她的手，把钱币从她手中抢出来。
“什么，”她说道，“妈妈！老是钱！开头是钱，到最后还是钱。我刚才讲过的话你怎么一点也不记在心上？钱在这里。
拿回去吧！”
当钱归还原主的时候，老太婆哀叹了一声，但没有阻拦，然后挨着她女儿的身旁，一拐一拐地走出院子，沿着邻近的一条小街走去。万分惊讶的罗布目不转睛地看着她们离开，他看到她们很快就站住，认真地交谈起来；他不止一次地注意到年轻女人的手凶狠地作了一个威胁的动作（显然是针对她们所谈到的一个什么人），布朗太太也有气无力地模仿了一下这个动作，因而他不由得衷心地希望，她们所谈论的对象不是他。
罗布想到她们现在已经走了，又想到布朗太太将来不能永久活下去，很可能不久就不会来打扰他了，心中感到一些安慰；他对过去的过错会随着带来这些不愉快的后果，心中倒也因此而感到有些悔恨，但是他想到他是怎样巧妙地摆脱了卡特尔船长的（他一回忆起这件事，就必然能使精神焕发起来），这就使他把受了扰乱的心绪镇静下来，换上一副平静的面容，到董贝公司的营业所去接受他主人的吩咐。
他的主人在那里，眼睛是那么敏锐，那么警觉，因此罗布一看到它们，就在他面前颤抖起来，十分担心布朗太太的事情会使他受到责骂；他的主人像往常一样，交给他一个匣子和一张短笺；匣子里装着上午的公文，是送给董贝先生的；那张短笺是送给董贝夫人的；他只是向他点了点头，算是嘱咐他要谨慎小心，并必须火速送达——这样一种神秘的告诫，在磨工看来，充满了可怕的警告与威胁，它比任何言语都更有力。
房间里只剩下卡克先生一个人的时候，他又专心致志地工作起来，工作了一整天。他接见了不少来访者，审阅了许多文件，在各种商业场所进进出出，来来往往，在一天的业务没有做完之前，他从不分心走神。但是，当他桌子上的公文终于办完送走以后，他又一次陷入沉思之中。
当他以惯常的姿势站在惯常的地方，眼睛全神贯注地凝视着地板的时候，他的哥哥进来把这一天中间从这里取走的一些函件送回。在他进来的时候，经理卡克先生的眼睛注视着他，仿佛它们在这段时间里一直静观着的不是办公室的地板，而是他似的；当他默默地把函件放在桌子上，想立刻就走开的时候，经理卡克先生说道：
“唔，约翰•卡克，是什么使你到这里来的？”
他的哥哥指指函件，然后又向门口走去。
“我感到奇怪，”经理说道，“你来来去去，连我们主人的健康情况怎么样也可以不问一问。”
“今天早上我们在办公室里听说，董贝先生的身体恢复得不错，”他的哥哥回答道。
“你是这样一位卑躬屈节的人，”经理微笑了一下，说道，——“不过，在这些岁月中你已变成了这样子——，我现在敢发誓说，如果他遭到什么灾祸的话，那么你是会感到悲伤的。”
“我一定会真正感到难过，詹姆斯，”那一位回答道。
“他会感到难过！”经理指着他说道，仿佛他正在向这里另一个人求助似的。“他会真正感到难过！我的这位哥哥！这位这里的小职员，这块谁也看不起的废物，他被人们推在一旁，脸朝着墙壁，就像是一张拙劣的图画一样！他就一直是这样，天知道过了多少年；可是他对他却非常感激、尊敬与忠诚，而且想要我相信这一点！”
“我什么也不想要你相信，詹姆士，”另一位回答道。“请像对待你的其他任何下属那样公正地对待我吧。你向我提了一个问题，我只不过回答它罢了。”
“你这条摇尾乞怜的狗，对他就没有什么抱怨的吗？”经理以寻常少见的易怒的脾气，说道，“难道就没有盛气凌人的态度、蛮横无礼的行为、愚笨无知的状态、吹毛求疵的挑剔，使你怨恨的吗？见你的鬼！你是人还是耗子？”
“任何两个人，特别是上级和下级，如果相处这么多年，彼此没有一点怨言，这倒是奇怪的——不管怎么样，他是这么想的，”约翰•卡克回答道，“不过，撇开我的历史不提——”
“他的历史！”经理高声喊道，“哦，确有这么回事。这件事实本身使他成了一种特殊情况，因此就可以把他的一切全都一笔勾销！唔，往下讲吧。”
“我的这段历史，正像你所暗示的，使我具有独特的理由对他怀着感激的心情（其他的人很幸运，没有像我这样的理由），可是把这段历史撇开不提，公司里也确实没有一个人不是这样说和这样感觉的。难道你不认为这里有什么人对公司老板遭遇的不幸或灾祸会漠不关心或会对这不真正感到难过的吗？”
“当然，你有充分的理由对他感恩戴德！”经理轻蔑地说道。“唷，难道你不相信，把你留在这里是作为一个廉价的实例和著名的证据，说明董贝父子公司待人处事宽厚，因而有助于抬高这个大名鼎鼎的公司的美好声望吗？”
“我不相信，”他的哥哥温和地回答道，“很久以来我一直相信，是由于更为仁慈和无私的理由才把我留下来的。”
“我看你好像要背诵一段基督的什么训诫吧，”经理像山猫般咆哮道。
“不是，詹姆士，”另一位回答道，“虽然我们之间兄弟情谊的纽带早已断裂，并已被抛弃了——”
“谁断裂的，亲爱的先生？”经理问道。
“我，由于我的行为不正。我不把过失推到你身上。”
经理咬牙切齿，无声地回答道，“哼，你不把过失推到我身上！”然后嘱咐他继续说下去。
“我说，虽然我们之间已不存在兄弟情谊的纽带，我请求你不要用不必要的辱骂来攻击我，或者曲解我所说的或想要说的话，我只想向你提醒一点：如果你以为，你在这里远远超出所有其他的人，得到提拔，受到信任，享受荣誉（我知道，从一开始，你就是由于你的卓越才能和可以信赖而得到提拔的），你比任何人都能更随便地跟董贝先生交往，可以说，跟他保持着平等的关系，受到他的宠幸，由于他而发财致富，因此，公司里只有你一个人才关心他的幸福与名誉，如果你这样想的话，那么这将是一个错误。我真诚地相信，公司里，从你开始一直到职位最低的人，没有一个人不同样有着这样的感情。”
“你撒谎！”经理说道，他由于突然发怒，脸孔涨得通红。
“你是个伪君子，约翰•卡克，你说的是弥天大谎。”
“詹姆士，”另一位喊道，他的脸也涨红了。“你使用这些侮辱的语言打算干什么？我没惹你一丝一毫，你为什么这样卑鄙地对我使用这些语言？”
“我告诉你，”经理说道，“你的虚情假意与卑躬屈膝，公司里所有职员的虚情假意与卑躬屈膝，都不值得我那样做，”他咬咬大姆指，又咬咬别的指头，“我看透这一切，就像看透清澈的空气一样！这个公司所雇用的所有职员，在我与最低级职员之间的所有的人（你对他们很体贴，而且有理由这样，因为你的地位与他们相差不远），没有一个人看到他的主人受到屈辱会不由衷地感到高兴，没有一个人不暗地里恨他，没有一个人不希望他遭到灾祸而不是交上好运，没有一个人要是有力量和勇气的话会不反抗他的。愈是受到他宠幸的人就愈感受到他的蛮横无礼；愈接近他的人就愈疏远他。这就是这里所有职员们的信念！”
我不知道，”他的哥哥说道，他刚才被惹怒的感情立即被惊奇所代替，“谁用这样一些说法糟蹋你的耳朵的？为什么你偏想要来考验我而不去考验别人？不过你已经考验了我，愚弄了我，这一点我现在深信不疑。你刚才的态度和言论，跟我过去在你身上看到的截然不同。我只能再一次对你说，你被欺骗了。”
“我知道我是被欺骗了，”经理说道，“我已经对你说过了。”
“不是被我，”他的哥哥回答道。“而是被向你提供情况的人欺骗了，如果有这样的人的话；如果没有这样的人，那就是被你自己的想法和怀疑所欺骗了。”
“我没有任何怀疑，”经理说道。“我掌握千真万确的事实。你们这些胆小如鼠、卑鄙下贱、卑躬曲膝的狗！你们全都假装成同样的姿态，全都编造着同样的假话，全都哭诉着同样的话语，全都隐藏着同样显而易见的秘密。”
当他说完的时候，他的哥哥不再说什么，离开房间，把门关上，经理卡克先生把椅子拉近到壁炉跟前，开始用拨火棒轻轻地敲打着煤块。
“懦怯怕事、阿谀奉迎的无赖们，”他露出两排闪闪发光的牙齿，喃喃自语道，“他们没有一个人不假装出震惊与气愤的——！呸！他们只要一旦有了权势和使用权势的才智与胆量的话，那么就没有一个人不会把董贝的高傲摧毁、打倒，就像我耙出这些煤渣一样毫不留情的。”
当他把它们敲碎、撒在炉篦上的时候，他露出若有所思的微笑，看着自己所干的事情。“是的，即使没有王后的引诱也会这样的！”他立即补充了一句；“有一种高傲是不应当忘记的——它是我们相识的见证人！”说着，他就陷入了更为出神的沉思，坐在那里，对着正在暗黑下去的炉篦默想着，随后像一个人离开专心看着的书本一样地站了起来，向四周看看，拿了帽子和手套，走到他的马正在等候他的地方，骑上马，沿着灯光明亮的街道骑去，因为这时已是晚上了。
他骑近董贝先生的住宅；快到的时候，他勒住马，让马放慢脚步，一步一步地走着，同时望着上面的窗子。有一次他曾看到弗洛伦斯带着她的狗坐在里面的那个窗子首先吸引了他的注意，虽然这时里面已没有灯光了；可是当他把眼光投到这座公馆高大的正面的时候，他微笑了，似乎目空一切地把那窗子抛在后面。
“过去有一段时候，”他说道，“甚至连您这颗升起的小星也是值得注视的，而且还得知道乌云聚集在什么地方，以便在需要的时候好去掩护您。可是现在一颗行星升上来了，在它的光辉中您已经黯然失色了。”
他把白腿的马转到街道拐角处，从这座公馆背面的许多窗子中寻找一个闪射出亮光的窗子。这个窗子使他联想起那庄严的态度，那戴上手套的手，也使他回想起那只美丽的鸟儿的翅膀上的羽毛怎样纷纷落到地板上，长衣上那轻飘飘的白色绒毛怎样颤抖着，发出沙沙的，就像面临即将刮起的风暴一样。当他又转身离开，以快速的步伐骑过公园的黑暗的、无人的小路的时候，他带走了这些回忆。
不可避免的事实是，这些回忆都跟一位女人，一位高傲的女人联系着；她憎恨他，但是由于他采取了狡猾的手腕，也由于她怀着高傲与怨恨的情绪，她被慢慢地而又确实地引导到习惯于容忍他跟她在一起相处了；她逐渐地习惯于把他当作一位有特殊权利的人来接待，他有权向她谈到她对她自己丈夫无礼的轻蔑和她自暴自弃地轻视自己。这些回忆跟一位女人联系着；她深切地憎恨他，她了解他，并正因为她了解他和因为他了解她，所以她不信任他；可是尽管她对他怀着憎恨，她却容许他一天天地接近她，以便激起她强烈的怨恨。尽管她对他怀着憎恨！正是由于这个理由她才容许他一天天地接近她的；因为在这憎恨的深渊（它太深了，虽然她能模糊地向里面探视，但却不是她的威胁性的眼光所能看透的）隐藏着她狠毒的报复，它的最淡弱的影子足以玷污她的灵魂；只要看一次就会令人毛骨悚然，决不会再去看的。
当他骑马的时候，这女人的幻影，这与真实完全一致、他看得明明白白的幻影，是不是在他的周围飞翔呢？
是的。他在心中看到她，一如她平时的样子。她容忍他跟她在一起的时候，在他眼中，她那高傲、怨恨、憎恶的情绪，就像她美丽的容貌一样清清楚楚。没有什么能比她对他的憎恨更为清楚的了。他有时看到她在他身旁态度傲慢，拒人于千里之外；有时又看到她摔倒在他的马蹄下，躺在尘土中。但是他总是看到她，就像她平时的样子，没有任何掩饰，而且注视着她在向着危险的道路上走去。
当他骑马游逛之后，换上衣服，低着头，露出谄媚的微笑，轻声柔语地走进她的明亮的房间里的时候，他同样清楚地看到她。他甚至对那戴上手套的手的秘密产生了猜疑，正由于这个猜疑，他把它在他手中握得比以前更久一些。他依旧跟随着她在危险的道路上走去，她所留下的每个脚印，他都把自己的脚紧跟着踩在上面。
Chapter 47
The Thunderbolt
The barrier between Mr Dombey and his wife was not weakened by time. Ill-assorted couple, unhappy in themselves and in each other, bound together by no tie but the manacle that joined their fettered hands, and straining that so harshly, in their shrinking asunder, that it wore and chafed to the bone, Time, consoler of affliction and softener of anger, could do nothing to help them. Their pride, however different in kind and object, was equal in degree; and, in their flinty opposition, struck out fire between them which might smoulder or might blaze, as circumstances were, but burned up everything within their mutual reach, and made their marriage way a road of ashes.
Let us be just to him. In the monstrous delusion of his life, swelling with every grain of sand that shifted in its glass, he urged her on, he little thought to what, or considered how; but still his feeling towards her, such as it was, remained as at first. She had the grand demerit of unaccountably putting herself in opposition to the recognition of his vast importance, and to the acknowledgment of her complete submission to it, and so far it was necessary to correct and reduce her; but otherwise he still considered her, in his cold way, a lady capable of doing honour, if she would, to his choice and name, and of reflecting credit on his proprietorship.
Now, she, with all her might of passionate and proud resentment, bent her dark glance from day to day, and hour to hour - from that night in her own chamber, when she had sat gazing at the shadows on the wall, to the deeper night fast coming - upon one figure directing a crowd of humiliations and exasperations against her; and that figure, still her husband's.
Was Mr Dombey's master-vice, that ruled him so inexorably, an unnatural characteristic? It might be worthwhile, sometimes, to inquire what Nature is, and how men work to change her, and whether, in the enforced distortions so produced, it is not natural to be unnatural. Coop any son or daughter of our mighty mother within narrow range, and bind the prisoner to one idea, and foster it by servile worship of it on the part of the few timid or designing people standing round, and what is Nature to the willing captive who has never risen up upon the wings of a free mind - drooping and useless soon - to see her in her comprehensive truth!
Alas! are there so few things in the world, about us, most unnatural, and yet most natural in being so? Hear the magistrate or judge admonish the unnatural outcasts of society; unnatural in brutal habits, unnatural in want of decency, unnatural in losing and confounding all distinctions between good and evil; unnatural in ignorance, in vice, in recklessness, in contumacy, in mind, in looks, in everything. But follow the good clergyman or doctor, who, with his life imperilled at every breath he draws, goes down into their dens, lying within the echoes of our carriage wheels and daily tread upon the pavement stones. Look round upon the world of odious sights - millions of immortal creatures have no other world on earth - at the lightest mention of which humanity revolts, and dainty delicacy living in the next street, stops her ears, and lisps 'I don't believe it!' Breathe the polluted air, foul with every impurity that is poisonous to health and life; and have every sense, conferred upon our race for its delight and happiness, offended, sickened and disgusted, and made a channel by which misery and death alone can enter. Vainly attempt to think of any simple plant, or flower, or wholesome weed, that, set in this foetid bed, could have its natural growth, or put its little leaves off to the sun as GOD designed it. And then, calling up some ghastly child, with stunted form and wicked face, hold forth on its unnatural sinfulness, and lament its being, so early, far away from Heaven - but think a little of its having been conceived, and born and bred, in Hell!
Those who study the physical sciences, and bring them to bear upon the health of Man, tell us that if the noxious particles that rise from vitiated air were palpable to the sight, we should see them lowering in a dense black cloud above such haunts, and rolling slowly on to corrupt the better portions of a town. But if the moral pestilence that rises with them, and in the eternal laws of our Nature, is inseparable from them, could be made discernible too, how terrible the revelation! Then should we see depravity, impiety, drunkenness, theft, murder, and a long train of nameless sins against the natural affections and repulsions of mankind, overhanging the devoted spots, and creeping on, to blight the innocent and spread contagion among the pure. Then should we see how the same poisoned fountains that flow into our hospitals and lazar-houses, inundate the jails, and make the convict-ships swim deep, and roll across the seas, and over-run vast continents with crime. Then should we stand appalled to know, that where we generate disease to strike our children down and entail itself on unborn generations, there also we breed, by the same certain process, infancy that knows no innocence, youth without modesty or shame, maturity that is mature in nothing but in suffering and guilt, blasted old age that is a scandal on the form we bear. unnatural humanity! When we shall gather grapes from thorns, and figs from thistles; when fields of grain shall spring up from the offal in the bye-ways of our wicked cities, and roses bloom in the fat churchyards that they cherish; then we may look for natural humanity, and find it growing from such seed.
Oh for a good spirit who would take the house-tops off, with a mole potent and benignant hand than the lame demon in the tale, and show a Christian people what dark shapes issue from amidst their homes, to swell the retinue of the Destroying Angel as he moves forth among them! For only one night's view of the pale phantoms rising from the scenes of our too-long neglect; and from the thick and sullen air where Vice and Fever propagate together, raining the tremendous social retributions which are ever pouring down, and ever coming thicker! Bright and blest the morning that should rise on such a night: for men, delayed no more by stumbling-blocks of their own making, which are but specks of dust upon the path between them and eternity, would then apply themselves, like creatures of one common origin, owing one duty to the Father of one family, and tending to one common end, to make the world a better place!
Not the less bright and blest would that day be for rousing some who never have looked out upon the world of human life around them, to a knowledge of their own relation to it, and for making them acquainted with a perversion of nature in their own contracted sympathies and estimates; as great, and yet as natural in its development when once begun, as the lowest degradation known.'
But no such day had ever dawned on Mr Dombey, or his wife; and the course of each was taken.
Through six months that ensued upon his accident, they held the same relations one towards the other. A marble rock could not have stood more obdurately in his way than she; and no chilled spring, lying uncheered by any ray of light in the depths of a deep cave, could be more sullen or more cold than he.
The hope that had fluttered within her when the promise of her new home dawned, was quite gone from the heart of Florence now. That home was nearly two years old; and even the patient trust that was in her, could not survive the daily blight of such experience. If she had any lingering fancy in the nature of hope left, that Edith and her father might be happier together, in some distant time, she had none, now, that her father would ever love her. The little interval in which she had imagined that she saw some small relenting in him, was forgotten in the long remembrance of his coldness since and before, or only remembered as a sorrowful delusion.
Florence loved him still, but, by degrees, had come to love him rather as some dear one who had been, or who might have been, than as the hard reality before her eyes. Something of the softened sadness with which she loved the memory of little Paul, or of her mother, seemed to enter now into her thoughts of him, and to make them, as it were, a dear remembrance. Whether it was that he was dead to her, and that partly for this reason, partly for his share in those old objects of her affection, and partly for the long association of him with hopes that were withered and tendernesses he had frozen, she could not have told; but the father whom she loved began to be a vague and dreamy idea to her: hardly more substantially connected with her real life, than the image she would sometimes conjure up, of her dear brother yet alive, and growing to be a man, who would protect and cherish her.
The change, if it may be called one, had stolen on her like the change from childhood to womanhood, and had come with it. Florence was almost seventeen, when, in her lonely musings, she was conscious of these thoughts.'
She was often alone now, for the old association between her and her Mama was greatly changed. At the time of her father's accident, and when he was lying in his room downstairs, Florence had first observed that Edith avoided her. Wounded and shocked, and yet unable to reconcile this with her affection when they did meet, she sought her in her own room at night, once more.
'Mama,' said Florence, stealing softly to her side, 'have I offended you?'
Edith answered 'No.'
'I must have done something,' said Florence. 'Tell me what it is. You have changed your manner to me, dear Mama. I cannot say how instantly I feel the least change; for I love you with my whole heart.'
'As I do you,' said Edith. 'Ah, Florence, believe me never more than now!'
'Why do you go away from me so often, and keep away?' asked Florence. 'And why do you sometimes look so strangely on me, dear Mama? You do so, do you not?'
Edith signified assent with her dark eyes.
'Why?' returned Florence imploringly. 'Tell me why, that I may know how to please you better; and tell me this shall not be so any more.
'My Florence,' answered Edith, taking the hand that embraced her neck, and looking into the eyes that looked into hers so lovingly, as Florence knelt upon the ground before her; 'why it is, I cannot tell you. It is neither for me to say, nor you to hear; but that it is, and that it must be, I know. Should I do it if I did not?'
'Are we to be estranged, Mama?' asked Florence, gazing at her like one frightened.
Edith's silent lips formed 'Yes.'
Florence looked at her with increasing fear and wonder, until she could see her no more through the blinding tears that ran down her face.
'Florence! my life!' said Edith, hurriedly, 'listen to me. I cannot bear to see this grief. Be calmer. You see that I am composed, and is it nothing to me?'
She resumed her steady voice and manner as she said the latter words, and added presently:
'Not wholly estranged. Partially: and only that, in appearance, Florence, for in my own breast I am still the same to you, and ever will be. But what I do is not done for myself.'
'Is it for me, Mama?' asked Florence.
'It is enough,' said Edith, after a pause, 'to know what it is; why, matters little. Dear Florence, it is better - it is necessary - it must be - that our association should be less frequent. The confidence there has been between us must be broken off.'
'When?' cried Florence. 'Oh, Mama, when?'
'Now,' said Edith.
'For all time to come?' asked Florence.
'I do not say that,' answered Edith. 'I do not know that. Nor will I say that companionship between us is, at the best, an ill-assorted and unholy union, of which I might have known no good could come. My way here has been through paths that you will never tread, and my way henceforth may lie - God knows - I do not see it - '
Her voice died away into silence; and she sat, looking at Florence, and almost shrinking from her, with the same strange dread and wild avoidance that Florence had noticed once before. The same dark pride and rage succeeded, sweeping over her form and features like an angry chord across the strings of a wild harp. But no softness or humility ensued on that. She did not lay her head down now, and weep, and say that she had no hope but in Florence. She held it up as if she were a beautiful Medusa, looking on him, face to face, to strike him dead. Yes, and she would have done it, if she had had the charm.
'Mama,' said Florence, anxiously, 'there is a change in you, in more than what you say to me, which alarms me. Let me stay with you a little.'
'No,' said Edith, 'no, dearest. I am best left alone now, and I do best to keep apart from you, of all else. Ask me no questions, but believe that what I am when I seem fickle or capricious to you, I am not of my own will, or for myself. Believe, though we are stranger to each other than we have been, that I am unchanged to you within. Forgive me for having ever darkened your dark home - I am a shadow on it, I know well - and let us never speak of this again.'
'Mama,' sobbed Florence, 'we are not to part?'
'We do this that we may not part,' said Edith. 'Ask no more. Go, Florence! My love and my remorse go with you!'
She embraced her, and dismissed her; and as Florence passed out of her room, Edith looked on the retiring figure, as if her good angel went out in that form, and left her to the haughty and indignant passions that now claimed her for their own, and set their seal upon her brow.
From that hour, Florence and she were, as they had been, no more. For days together, they would seldom meet, except at table, and when Mr Dombey was present. Then Edith, imperious, inflexible, and silent, never looked at her. Whenever Mr Carker was of the party, as he often was, during the progress of Mr Dombey's recovery, and afterwards, Edith held herself more removed from her, and was more distant towards her, than at other times. Yet she and Florence never encountered, when there was no one by, but she would embrace her as affectionately as of old, though not with the same relenting of her proud aspect; and often, when she had been out late, she would steal up to Florence's room, as she had been used to do, in the dark, and whisper 'Good-night,' on her pillow. When unconscious, in her slumber, of such visits, Florence would sometimes awake, as from a dream of those words, softly spoken, and would seem to feel the touch of lips upon her face. But less and less often as the months went on.
And now the void in Florence's own heart began again, indeed, to make a solitude around her. As the image of the father whom she loved had insensibly become a mere abstraction, so Edith, following the fate of all the rest about whom her affections had entwined themselves, was fleeting, fading, growing paler in the distance, every day. Little by little, she receded from Florence, like the retiring ghost of what she had been; little by little, the chasm between them widened and seemed deeper; little by little, all the power of earnestness and tenderness she had shown, was frozen up in the bold, angry hardihood with which she stood, upon the brink of a deep precipice unseen by Florence, daring to look down.
There was but one consideration to set against the heavy loss of Edith, and though it was slight comfort to her burdened heart, she tried to think it some relief. No longer divided between her affection and duty to the two, Florence could love both and do no injustice to either. As shadows of her fond imagination, she could give them equal place in her own bosom, and wrong them with no doubts
So she tried to do. At times, and often too, wondering speculations on the cause of this change in Edith, would obtrude themselves upon her mind and frighten her; but in the calm of its abandonment once more to silent grief and loneliness, it was not a curious mind. Florence had only to remember that her star of promise was clouded in the general gloom that hung upon the house, and to weep and be resigned.
Thus living, in a dream wherein the overflowing love of her young heart expended itself on airy forms, and in a real world where she had experienced little but the rolling back of that strong tide upon itself, Florence grew to be seventeen. Timid and retiring as her solitary life had made her, it had not embittered her sweet temper, or her earnest nature. A child in innocent simplicity; a woman m her modest self-reliance, and her deep intensity of feeling; both child and woman seemed at once expressed in her face and fragile delicacy of shape, and gracefully to mingle there; - as if the spring should be unwilling to depart when summer came, and sought to blend the earlier beauties of the flowers with their bloom. But in her thrilling voice, in her calm eyes, sometimes in a sage ethereal light that seemed to rest upon her head, and always in a certain pensive air upon her beauty, there was an expression, such as had been seen in the dead boy; and the council in the Servants' Hall whispered so among themselves, and shook their heads, and ate and drank the more, in a closer bond of good-fellowship.
This observant body had plenty to say of Mr and Mrs Dombey, and of Mr Carker, who appeared to be a mediator between them, and who came and went as if he were trying to make peace, but never could. They all deplored the uncomfortable state of affairs, and all agreed that Mrs Pipchin (whose unpopularity was not to be surpassed) had some hand in it; but, upon the whole, it was agreeable to have so good a subject for a rallying point, and they made a great deal of it, and enjoyed themselves very much.
The general visitors who came to the house, and those among whom Mr and Mrs Dombey visited, thought it a pretty equal match, as to haughtiness, at all events, and thought nothing more about it. The young lady with the back did not appear for some time after Mrs Skewton's death; observing to some particular friends, with her usual engaging little scream, that she couldn't separate the family from a notion of tombstones, and horrors of that sort; but when she did come, she saw nothing wrong, except Mr Dombey's wearing a bunch of gold seals to his watch, which shocked her very much, as an exploded superstition. This youthful fascinator considered a daughter-in-law objectionable in principle; otherwise, she had nothing to say against Florence, but that she sadly wanted 'style' - which might mean back, perhaps. Many, who only came to the house on state occasions, hardly knew who Florence was, and said, going home, 'Indeed, was that Miss Dombey, in the corner? Very pretty, but a little delicate and thoughtful in appearance!'
None the less so, certainly, for her life of the last six months. Florence took her seat at the dinner-table, on the day before the second anniversary of her father's marriage to Edith (Mrs Skewton had been lying stricken with paralysis when the first came round), with an uneasiness, amounting to dread. She had no other warrant for it, than the occasion, the expression of her father's face, in the hasty glance she caught of it, and the presence of Mr Carker, which, always unpleasant to her, was more so on this day, than she had ever felt it before.
Edith was richly dressed, for she and Mr Dombey were engaged in the evening to some large assembly, and the dinner-hour that day was late. She did not appear until they were seated at table, when Mr Carker rose and led her to her chair. Beautiful and lustrous as she was, there was that in her face and air which seemed to separate her hopelessly from Florence, and from everyone, for ever more. And yet, for an instant, Florence saw a beam of kindness in her eyes, when they were turned on her, that made the distance to which she had withdrawn herself, a greater cause of sorrow and regret than ever.
There was very little said at dinner. Florence heard her father speak to Mr Carker sometimes on business matters, and heard him softly reply, but she paid little attention to what they said, and only wished the dinner at an end. When the dessert was placed upon the table, and they were left alone, with no servant in attendance, Mr Dombey, who had been several times clearing his throat in a manner that augured no good, said:
'Mrs Dombey, you know, I suppose, that I have instructed the housekeeper that there will be some company to dinner here to-morrow.
'I do not dine at home,' she answered.
'Not a large party,' pursued Mr Dombey, with an indifferent assumption of not having heard her; 'merely some twelve or fourteen. My sister, Major Bagstock, and some others whom you know but slightly.'
I do not dine at home,' she repeated.
'However doubtful reason I may have, Mrs Dombey,' said Mr Dombey, still going majestically on, as if she had not spoken, 'to hold the occasion in very pleasant remembrance just now, there are appearances in these things which must be maintained before the world. If you have no respect for yourself, Mrs Dombey - '
'I have none,' she said.
'Madam,' cried Mr Dombey, striking his hand upon the table, 'hear me if you please. I say, if you have no respect for yourself - '
'And I say I have none,' she answered.
He looked at her; but the face she showed him in return would not have changed, if death itself had looked.
'Carker,' said Mr Dombey, turning more quietly to that gentleman, 'as you have been my medium of communication with Mrs Dombey on former occasions, and as I choose to preserve the decencies of life, so far as I am individually concerned, I will trouble you to have the goodness to inform Mrs Dombey that if she has no respect for herself, I have some respect for myself, and therefore insist on my arrangements for to-morrow.
'Tell your sovereign master, Sir,' said Edith, 'that I will take leave to speak to him on this subject by-and-bye, and that I will speak to him alone.'
'Mr Carker, Madam,' said her husband, 'being in possession of the reason which obliges me to refuse you that privilege, shall be absolved from the delivery of any such message.' He saw her eyes move, while he spoke, and followed them with his own.
'Your daughter is present, Sir,' said Edith.
'My daughter will remain present,' said Mr Dombey.
Florence, who had risen, sat down again, hiding her face in her hands, and trembling.
'My daughter, Madam' - began Mr Dombey.
But Edith stopped him, in a voice which, although not raised in the least, was so clear, emphatic, and distinct, that it might have been heard in a whirlwind.
'I tell you I will speak to you alone,' she said. 'If you are not mad, heed what I say.'
'I have authority to speak to you, Madam,' returned her husband, 'when and where I please; and it is my pleasure to speak here and now.'
She rose up as if to leave the room; but sat down again, and looking at him with all outward composure, said, in the same voice:
'You shall!'
'I must tell you first, that there is a threatening appearance in your manner, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, 'which does not become you.
She laughed. The shaken diamonds in her hair started and trembled. There are fables of precious stones that would turn pale, their wearer being in danger. Had these been such, their imprisoned rays of light would have taken flight that moment, and they would have been as dull as lead.
Carker listened, with his eyes cast down.
'As to my daughter, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, resuming the thread of his discourse, 'it is by no means inconsistent with her duty to me, that she should know what conduct to avoid. At present you are a very strong example to her of this kind, and I hope she may profit by it.'
'I would not stop you now,' returned his wife, immoveable in eye, and voice, and attitude; 'I would not rise and go away, and save you the utterance of one word, if the room were burning.'
Mr Dombey moved his head, as if in a sarcastic acknowledgment of the attention, and resumed. But not with so much self-possession as before; for Edith's quick uneasiness in reference to Florence, and Edith's indifference to him and his censure, chafed and galled him like a stiffening wound.
'Mrs Dombey,' said he, 'it may not be inconsistent with my daughter's improvement to know how very much to be lamented, and how necessary to be corrected, a stubborn disposition is, especially when it is indulged in - unthankfully indulged in, I will add - after the gratification of ambition and interest. Both of which, I believe, had some share in inducing you to occupy your present station at this board.'
'No! I would not rise, and go away, and save you the utterance of one word,' she repeated, exactly as before, 'if the room were burning.'
'It may be natural enough, Mrs Dombey,' he pursued, 'that you should be uneasy in the presence of any auditors of these disagreeable truths; though why' - he could not hide his real feeling here, or keep his eyes from glancing gloomily at Florence - 'why anyone can give them greater force and point than myself, whom they so nearly concern, I do not pretend to understand. It may be natural enough that you should object to hear, in anybody's presence, that there is a rebellious principle within you which you cannot curb too soon; which you must curb, Mrs Dombey; and which, I regret to say, I remember to have seen manifested - with some doubt and displeasure, on more than one occasion before our marriage - towards your deceased mother. But you have the remedy in your own hands. I by no means forgot, when I began, that my daughter was present, Mrs Dombey. I beg you will not forget, to-morrow, that there are several persons present; and that, with some regard to appearances, you will receive your company in a becoming manner.
'So it is not enough,' said Edith, 'that you know what has passed between yourself and me; it is not enough that you can look here,' pointing at Carker, who still listened, with his eyes cast down, 'and be reminded of the affronts you have put upon me; it is not enough that you can look here,' pointing to Florence with a hand that slightly trembled for the first and only time, 'and think of what you have done, and of the ingenious agony, daily, hourly, constant, you have made me feel in doing it; it is not enough that this day, of all others in the year, is memorable to me for a struggle (well-deserved, but not conceivable by such as you) in which I wish I had died! You add to all this, do you, the last crowning meanness of making her a witness of the depth to which I have fallen; when you know that you have made me sacrifice to her peace, the only gentle feeling and interest of my life, when you know that for her sake, I would now if I could - but I can not, my soul recoils from you too much - submit myself wholly to your will, and be the meekest vassal that you have!'
This was not the way to minister to Mr Dombey's greatness. The old feeling was roused by what she said, into a stronger and fiercer existence than it had ever had. Again, his neglected child, at this rough passage of his life, put forth by even this rebellious woman, as powerful where he was powerless, and everything where he was nothing!
He turned on Florence, as if it were she who had spoken, and bade her leave the room. Florence with her covered face obeyed, trembling and weeping as she went.
'I understand, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, with an angry flush of triumph, 'the spirit of opposition that turned your affections in that channel, but they have been met, Mrs Dombey; they have been met, and turned back!'
'The worse for you!' she answered, with her voice and manner still unchanged. 'Ay!' for he turned sharply when she said so, 'what is the worse for me, is twenty million times the worse for you. Heed that, if you heed nothing else.'
The arch of diamonds spanning her dark hair, flashed and glittered like a starry bridge. There was no warning in them, or they would have turned as dull and dim as tarnished honour. Carker still sat and listened, with his eyes cast down.
'Mrs Dombey,' said Mr Dombey, resuming as much as he could of his arrogant composure, 'you will not conciliate me, or turn me from any purpose, by this course of conduct.'
'It is the only true although it is a faint expression of what is within me,' she replied. 'But if I thought it would conciliate you, I would repress it, if it were repressible by any human effort. I will do nothing that you ask.'
'I am not accustomed to ask, Mrs Dombey,' he observed; 'I direct.'
'I will hold no place in your house to-morrow, or on any recurrence of to-morrow. I will be exhibited to no one, as the refractory slave you purchased, such a time. If I kept my marriage day, I would keep it as a day of shame. Self-respect! appearances before the world! what are these to me? You have done all you can to make them nothing to me, and they are nothing.'
'Carker,' said Mr Dombey, speaking with knitted brows, and after a moment's consideration, 'Mrs Dombey is so forgetful of herself and me in all this, and places me in a position so unsuited to my character, that I must bring this state of matters to a close.'
'Release me, then,' said Edith, immoveable in voice, in look, and bearing, as she had been throughout, 'from the chain by which I am bound. Let me go.'
'Madam?' exclaimed Mr Dombey.
'Loose me. Set me free!'
'Madam?' he repeated, 'Mrs Dombey?'
'Tell him,' said Edith, addressing her proud face to Carker, 'that I wish for a separation between us, That there had better be one. That I recommend it to him, Tell him it may take place on his own terms - his wealth is nothing to me - but that it cannot be too soon.'
'Good Heaven, Mrs Dombey!' said her husband, with supreme amazement, 'do you imagine it possible that I could ever listen to such a proposition? Do you know who I am, Madam? Do you know what I represent? Did you ever hear of Dombey and Son? People to say that Mr Dombey - Mr Dombey! - was separated from his wife! Common people to talk of Mr Dombey and his domestic affairs! Do you seriously think, Mrs Dombey, that I would permit my name to be banded about in such connexion? Pooh, pooh, Madam! Fie for shame! You're absurd.' Mr Dombey absolutely laughed.
But not as she did. She had better have been dead than laugh as she did, in reply, with her intent look fixed upon him. He had better have been dead, than sitting there, in his magnificence, to hear her.
'No, Mrs Dombey,' he resumed. 'No, Madam. There is no possibility of separation between you and me, and therefore I the more advise you to be awakened to a sense of duty. And, Carker, as I was about to say to you -
Mr Carker, who had sat and listened all this time, now raised his eyes, in which there was a bright unusual light'
As I was about to say to you, resumed Mr Dombey, 'I must beg you, now that matters have come to this, to inform Mrs Dombey, that it is not the rule of my life to allow myself to be thwarted by anybody - anybody, Carker - or to suffer anybody to be paraded as a stronger motive for obedience in those who owe obedience to me than I am my self. The mention that has been made of my daughter, and the use that is made of my daughter, in opposition to me, are unnatural. Whether my daughter is in actual concert with Mrs Dombey, I do not know, and do not care; but after what Mrs Dombey has said today, and my daughter has heard to-day, I beg you to make known to Mrs Dombey, that if she continues to make this house the scene of contention it has become, I shall consider my daughter responsible in some degree, on that lady's own avowal, and shall visit her with my severe displeasure. Mrs Dombey has asked "whether it is not enough," that she had done this and that. You will please to answer no, it is not enough.'
'A moment!' cried Carker, interposing, 'permit me! painful as my position is, at the best, and unusually painful in seeming to entertain a different opinion from you,' addressing Mr Dombey, 'I must ask, had you not better reconsider the question of a separation. I know how incompatible it appears with your high public position, and I know how determined you are when you give Mrs Dombey to understand' - the light in his eyes fell upon her as he separated his words each from each, with the distinctness of so many bells - 'that nothing but death can ever part you. Nothing else. But when you consider that Mrs Dombey, by living in this house, and making it as you have said, a scene of contention, not only has her part in that contention, but compromises Miss Dombey every day (for I know how determined you are), will you not relieve her from a continual irritation of spirit, and a continual sense of being unjust to another, almost intolerable? Does this not seem like - I do not say it is - sacrificing Mrs Dombey to the preservation of your preeminent and unassailable position?'
Again the light in his eyes fell upon her, as she stood looking at her husband: now with an extraordinary and awful smile upon her face.
'Carker,' returned Mr Dombey, with a supercilious frown, and in a tone that was intended to be final, 'you mistake your position in offering advice to me on such a point, and you mistake me (I am surprised to find) in the character of your advice. I have no more to say.
'Perhaps,' said Carker, with an unusual and indefinable taunt in his air, 'you mistook my position, when you honoured me with the negotiations in which I have been engaged here' - with a motion of his hand towards Mrs Dombey.
'Not at all, Sir, not at all,' returned the other haughtily. 'You were employed - '
'Being an inferior person, for the humiliation of Mrs Dombey. I forgot' Oh, yes, it was expressly understood!' said Carker. 'I beg your pardon!'
As he bent his head to Mr Dombey, with an air of deference that accorded ill with his words, though they were humbly spoken, he moved it round towards her, and kept his watching eyes that way.
She had better have turned hideous and dropped dead, than have stood up with such a smile upon her face, in such a fallen spirit's majesty of scorn and beauty. She lifted her hand to the tiara of bright jewels radiant on her head, and, plucking it off with a force that dragged and strained her rich black hair with heedless cruelty, and brought it tumbling wildly on her shoulders, cast the gems upon the ground. From each arm, she unclasped a diamond bracelet, flung it down, and trod upon the glittering heap. Without a word, without a shadow on the fire of her bright eye, without abatement of her awful smile, she looked on Mr Dombey to the last, in moving to the door; and left him.
Florence had heard enough before quitting the room, to know that Edith loved her yet; that she had suffered for her sake; and that she had kept her sacrifices quiet, lest they should trouble her peace. She did not want to speak to her of this - she could not, remembering to whom she was opposed - but she wished, in one silent and affectionate embrace, to assure her that she felt it all, and thanked her.
Her father went out alone, that evening, and Florence issuing from her own chamber soon afterwards, went about the house in search of. Edith, but unavailingly. She was in her own rooms, where Florence had long ceased to go, and did not dare to venture now, lest she should unconsciously engender new trouble. Still Florence hoping to meet her before going to bed, changed from room to room, and wandered through the house so splendid and so dreary, without remaining anywhere.
She was crossing a gallery of communication that opened at some little distance on the staircase, and was only lighted on great occasions, when she saw, through the opening, which was an arch, the figure of a man coming down some few stairs opposite. Instinctively apprehensive of her father, whom she supposed it was, she stopped, in the dark, gazing through the arch into the light. But it was Mr Carker coming down alone, and looking over the railing into the hall. No bell was rung to announce his departure, and no servant was in attendance. He went down quietly, opened the door for himself, glided out, and shut it softly after him.
Her invincible repugnance to this man, and perhaps the stealthy act of watching anyone, which, even under such innocent circumstances, is in a manner guilty and oppressive, made Florence shake from head to foot. Her blood seemed to run cold. As soon as she could - for at first she felt an insurmountable dread of moving - she went quickly to her own room and locked her door; but even then, shut in with her dog beside her, felt a chill sensation of horror, as if there were danger brooding somewhere near her.
It invaded her dreams and disturbed the whole night. Rising in the morning, unrefreshed, and with a heavy recollection of the domestic unhappiness of the preceding day, she sought Edith again in all the rooms, and did so, from time to time, all the morning. But she remained in her own chamber, and Florence saw nothing of her. Learning, however, that the projected dinner at home was put off, Florence thought it likely that she would go out in the evening to fulfil the engagement she had spoken of; and resolved to try and meet her, then, upon the staircase.
When the evening had set in, she heard, from the room in which she sat on purpose, a footstep on the stairs that she thought to be Edith's. Hurrying out, and up towards her room, Florence met her immediately, coming down alone.
What was Florence's affright and wonder when, at sight of her, with her tearful face, and outstretched arms, Edith recoiled and shrieked!
'Don't come near me!' she cried. 'Keep away! Let me go by!'
'Mama!' said Florence.
'Don't call me by that name! Don't speak to me! Don't look at me! - Florence!' shrinking back, as Florence moved a step towards her, 'don't touch me!'
As Florence stood transfixed before the haggard face and staring eyes, she noted, as in a dream, that Edith spread her hands over them, and shuddering through all her form, and crouching down against the wall, crawled by her like some lower animal, sprang up, and fled away.
Florence dropped upon the stairs in a swoon; and was found there by Mrs Pipchin, she supposed. She knew nothing more, until she found herself lying on her own bed, with Mrs Pipchin and some servants standing round her.
'Where is Mama?' was her first question.
'Gone out to dinner,' said Mrs Pipchin.
'And Papa?'
'Mr Dombey is in his own room, Miss Dombey,' said Mrs Pipchin, 'and the best thing you can do, is to take off your things and go to bed this minute.' This was the sagacious woman's remedy for all complaints, particularly lowness of spirits, and inability to sleep; for which offences, many young victims in the days of the Brighton Castle had been committed to bed at ten o'clock in the morning.
Without promising obedience, but on the plea of desiring to be very quiet, Florence disengaged herself, as soon as she could, from the ministration of Mrs Pipchin and her attendants. Left alone, she thought of what had happened on the staircase, at first in doubt of its reality; then with tears; then with an indescribable and terrible alarm, like that she had felt the night before.
She determined not to go to bed until Edith returned, and if she could not speak to her, at least to be sure that she was safe at home. What indistinct and shadowy dread moved Florence to this resolution, she did not know, and did not dare to think. She only knew that until Edith came back, there was no repose for her aching head or throbbing heart.
The evening deepened into night; midnight came; no Edith.
Florence could not read, or rest a moment. She paced her own room, opened the door and paced the staircase-gallery outside, looked out of window on the night, listened to the wind blowing and the rain falling, sat down and watched the faces in the fire, got up and watched the moon flying like a storm-driven ship through the sea of clouds.
All the house was gone to bed, except two servants who were waiting the return of their mistress, downstairs.
One o'clock. The carriages that rumbled in the distance, turned away, or stopped short, or went past; the silence gradually deepened, and was more and more rarely broken, save by a rush of wind or sweep of rain. Two o'clock. No Edith!
Florence, more agitated, paced her room; and paced the gallery outside; and looked out at the night, blurred and wavy with the raindrops on the glass, and the tears in her own eyes; and looked up at the hurry in the sky, so different from the repose below, and yet so tranquil and solitary. Three o'clock! There was a terror in every ash that dropped out of the fire. No Edith yet.
More and more agitated, Florence paced her room, and paced the gallery, and looked out at the moon with a new fancy of her likeness to a pale fugitive hurrying away and hiding her guilty face. Four struck! Five! No Edith yet.
But now there was some cautious stir in the house; and Florence found that Mrs Pipchin had been awakened by one of those who sat up, had risen and had gone down to her father's door. Stealing lower down the stairs, and observing what passed, she saw her father come out in his morning gown, and start when he was told his wife had not come home. He dispatched a messenger to the stables to inquire whether the coachman was there; and while the man was gone, dressed himself very hurriedly.
The man came back, in great haste, bringing the coachman with him, who said he had been at home and in bed, since ten o'clock. He had driven his mistress to her old house in Brook Street, where she had been met by Mr Carker -
Florence stood upon the very spot where she had seen him coming down. Again she shivered with the nameless terror of that sight, and had hardly steadiness enough to hear and understand what followed.
- Who had told him, the man went on to say, that his mistress would not want the carriage to go home in; and had dismissed him.
She saw her father turn white in the face, and heard him ask in a quick, trembling voice, for Mrs Dombey's maid. The whole house was roused; for she was there, in a moment, very pale too, and speaking incoherently.
She said she had dressed her mistress early - full two hours before she went out - and had been told, as she often was, that she would not be wanted at night. She had just come from her mistress's rooms, but -
'But what! what was it?' Florence heard her father demand like a madman.
'But the inner dressing-room was locked and the key gone.'
Her father seized a candle that was flaming on the ground - someone had put it down there, and forgotten it - and came running upstairs with such fury, that Florence, in her fear, had hardly time to fly before him. She heard him striking in the door, as she ran on, with her hands widely spread, and her hair streaming, and her face like a distracted person's, back to her own room.
When the door yielded, and he rushed in, what did he see there? No one knew. But thrown down in a costly mass upon the ground, was every ornament she had had, since she had been his wife; every dress she had worn; and everything she had possessed. This was the room in which he had seen, in yonder mirror, the proud face discard him. This was the room in which he had wondered, idly, how these things would look when he should see them next!
Heaping them back into the drawers, and locking them up in a rage of haste, he saw some papers on the table. The deed of settlement he had executed on their marriage, and a letter. He read that she was gone. He read that he was dishonoured. He read that she had fled, upon her shameful wedding-day, with the man whom he had chosen for her humiliation; and he tore out of the room, and out of the house, with a frantic idea of finding her yet, at the place to which she had been taken, and beating all trace of beauty out of the triumphant face with his bare hand.
Florence, not knowing what she did, put on a shawl and bonnet, in a dream of running through the streets until she found Edith, and then clasping her in her arms, to save and bring her back. But when she hurried out upon the staircase, and saw the frightened servants going up and down with lights, and whispering together, and falling away from her father as he passed down, she awoke to a sense of her own powerlessness; and hiding in one of the great rooms that had been made gorgeous for this, felt as if her heart would burst with grief.
Compassion for her father was the first distinct emotion that made head against the flood of sorrow which overwhelmed her. Her constant nature turned to him in his distress, as fervently and faithfully, as if, in his prosperity, he had been the embodiment of that idea which had gradually become so faint and dim. Although she did not know, otherwise than through the suggestions of a shapeless fear, the full extent of his calamity, he stood before her, wronged and deserted; and again her yearning love impelled her to his side.
He was not long away; for Florence was yet weeping in the great room and nourishing these thoughts, when she heard him come back. He ordered the servants to set about their ordinary occupations, and went into his own apartment, where he trod so heavily that she could hear him walking up and down from end to end.
Yielding at once to the impulse of her affection, timid at all other times, but bold in its truth to him in his adversity, and undaunted by past repulse, Florence, dressed as she was, hurried downstairs. As she set her light foot in the hall, he came out of his room. She hastened towards him unchecked, with her arms stretched out, and crying 'Oh dear, dear Papa!' as if she would have clasped him round the neck.
And so she would have done. But in his frenzy, he lifted up his cruel arm, and struck her, crosswise, with that heaviness, that she tottered on the marble floor; and as he dealt the blow, he told her what Edith was, and bade her follow her, since they had always been in league.
She did not sink down at his feet; she did not shut out the sight of him with her trembling hands; she did not weep; she did not utter one word of reproach. But she looked at him, and a cry of desolation issued from her heart. For as she looked, she saw him murdering that fond idea to which she had held in spite of him. She saw his cruelty, neglect, and hatred dominant above it, and stamping it down. She saw she had no father upon earth, and ran out, orphaned, from his house.
Ran out of his house. A moment, and her hand was on the lock, the cry was on her lips, his face was there, made paler by the yellow candles hastily put down and guttering away, and by the daylight coming in above the door. Another moment, and the close darkness of the shut-up house (forgotten to be opened, though it was long since day) yielded to the unexpected glare and freedom of the morning; and Florence, with her head bent down to hide her agony of tears, was in the streets.
时间没有减少董贝先生和他的妻子之间的障碍。搭配错了的两口子，不论是他们本人，还是他们彼此之间的关系，都是不幸的；把他们联结在一起的，除了束缚他们双手的手铐之外，没有别的东西，在他们想挣脱开的时候，链条被拉得紧紧的，擦伤和磨破了他们的骨头。时间这个苦恼的安慰者与愤怒的缓和者，对他们无能为力，无法给予任何帮助。他们的高傲不论在性质和对象方面多么不同，但在程度上却是相等的；在他们毫不相让的敌对状态中，他们的高傲就像燧石一样，在他们之间打出火花来；它随着不同情况，时而闷火慢燃，时而炽烈地燃烧，但全都把他们相互能接触到的一切东西焚毁无遗，使他们结婚的旅程成为一条撒满灰烬的道路。
让我们公正地对待他。他的生活的怪异的迷误，随着滴进沙漏①中去的每一粒沙子而扩展起来；在这种迷误中，他驱赶着她往前跑，很少想一下要驱赶到什么目的地去，或者她怎样去；然而他对她的感情却仍然跟最初的时候一样。在他看来，她的极大的缺点在于：她莫名其妙地拒绝承认他的重要地位，拒绝完全服从他；因此有必要纠正她，征服她；但是在别的方面，他仍然以他冷静的态度，把她看作是一位能对他的选择与名望增添光彩、一位能给她的所有主带来体面的夫人。
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①沙漏是古时一种计时的器具。
在她这方面呢，那天夜里她曾坐在自己的卧室中，注视着墙上的影子，一直坐到很快来临的深夜；从那天夜里起，她怀着激烈与高傲的怨恨，一天又一天，一小时又一小时，用阴沉的眼光注视着一个人影儿指挥着一群羞辱与愤怒化身的影子来反对她；这个人影儿仍然是她丈夫的。
无情地主宰着董贝先生的主要恶习是不是一种违反天性的特性？也许有时值得问一下：天性是什么？人们怎样设法去改变它？由于这种强行扭曲的结果，违反天性是不是不自然的？把我们伟大的大自然母亲的任何儿子或女儿关进狭窄的笼子里，强迫囚人接受一个思想，并用周围懦怯或奸诈的人们对它奴颜婢膝、顶礼膜拜的态度来培育这种思想，在这种情况下，有些甘心充当俘囚的人们，从来不曾凭借自由思想的翅膀（它很快就衰弱不振，毫无用处了）站起来看一看大自然的完备无缺的真实面貌；对于这些俘囚们，天性算是什么呢？
唉！在世界上，在我们四周，最违反天性、但却最自然的事难道还很少吗？让我们听一听行政长官或法官告诫那些被社会所摒弃的违反天性的人们吧！他们在野兽般的习惯方面违反天性，在缺乏端庄方面违反天性，在愚昧无知方面、在恶习方面、在轻率方面、在顽抗方面、在精神方面、在外貌方面、在一切方面都违反天性。可是让我们再跟随着善良的牧师或医生（他们每吸进一口空气，生命都遭受到危险），去到这些人们所居住的像野兽洞穴般狭小而肮脏的房屋里看看吧，我们马车车轮的辚辚声和人们踩过马路石头的脚步声每天都传到那里。让我们再看一看他们四周充满了可憎情景的世界吧——几百万不死的人们除了这个世界之外，在地面上没有其他的世界了——，只要稍稍提到它，就会激起人性的反感；住在邻近街道上的优美与高雅的仙女就会捂住耳朵，说：“我不相信这！”让我们呼吸呼吸那被各种不洁的物质所污染的空气吧，这些不洁的物质对健康与生命是有毒害的。让原本是为了快乐与幸福而授予我们人类的每一种感觉遭到凌辱、厌恶与唾弃吧；只有不幸与死亡才能进入我们感觉的通道。要想让栽培在发臭的苗圃中的任何简单的植物、花卉或药草，像上帝有意安排的那样，自然地生长起来，或迎着阳光，把它的小叶子伸展开来，这是徒劳的尝试。然而，当我们回想起某个身材发育不全、脸上神色邪恶的可怕的孩子的时候，让我们对他那违反天性的罪恶大发议论，哀叹他在这样早的年龄就远远地背离了天国吧，可是让我们也稍稍想一下，他是在地狱中被怀孕、出生与抚养大的啊！
那些研究自然科学并探索它们对人类健康产生影响的人们告诉我们：从污浊的空气中取得的有毒的微粒如果能够被眼睛看见的话，那么我们将看到它们像浓密的乌云一般悬浮在这些人们栖息场所的上面，然后逐渐蔓延开来，使一个城镇中较好的区域也受到毒害。伤风败德的品行是与这些有毒的微粒一起发生的，而且，在违反大自然的永恒的规律的支配下与它们是分不开的，可是如果这些伤风败德的品行也是可以看得清楚的话，那么那该是何等可怕的暴露啊！那样一来，我们就将会看到腐化堕落、不信上帝、酩酊大醉、偷窃、暗杀和一系列违反自然感情的无名的罪过和人类所嫌恶的事情在这些注定要遭殃的地方发生，并慢慢地扩散开来，去摧残那些无辜的人们，并在那些纯洁的人们中间传染病毒。那样一来，我们就将看到这些有毒的泉水怎样流进我们的医院和麻风病院，淹没监狱，并让运载罪犯的船只吃水深深地行驶，漂洋过海，使罪恶在广阔的大陆上猖獗为害。那时候，我们知道：我们产生的疾病已摧残了我们的孩子们，并遗传给还没有出生的今后的世世代代；那时候我们知道，由于同样的确凿的作用，我们养育了毫不纯洁天真的婴儿、不知谦逊与羞耻的青年、除了受苦与犯罪之外什么也不成熟的壮年人，以及成为人类形体耻辱的讨厌的老年人；当我们知道这些情况的时候，我们将会惊吓得毛骨悚然。违反天性的人类哟！当我们将从荆棘中采摘葡萄，从大蓟中采集无花果的时候，当谷物从我们荒淫的城市的小路的垃圾中生长出来，玫瑰在它们所喜爱的肥沃的教堂墓地上开花的时候，我们就可以寻找符合天性的人类，并发现他们就是从这些种子中生长出来的了。
啊，如果有什么善良的精灵用一只比故事中瘸腿的魔鬼①更有力更仁慈的手把屋顶掀开，向一个基督教徒指明，当他在他们中间走动时，什么样黑暗的形体会从他们的家里走出来，参加到毁坏天使的随从的队伍中去，那将会怎样啊！啊，如果仅仅在一夜的时间中看到这些苍白的鬼怪从那些我们忽视过久的地方走出来，从恶习与热病一起传播的浓密与阴沉的天空中走出来，把可怕的社会报应像雨一般永远不停地、愈来愈大地倾泻下来，那将会怎样啊！经过这样一夜之后出现的早晨将会是明亮与幸福的，因为人们将不再受他们自己所设置的绊脚石的障碍，这些绊脚石只不过是他们通向永恒的道路上的几粒尘埃罢了；那时候他们将像出于同一个根源、对同一个家庭的父亲负有同一个责任、并为一个共同的目的而努力的人们一样，专心致志地把这个世界建设成为一个更好的地方！
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①瘸腿的魔鬼：法国作家勒萨日（LeSage）的小说《瘸腿的魔鬼》中的魔鬼；他把屋顶掀开，看到了房屋中的各种罪恶。
这一天将是光明与幸福的，还因为对于那些从来不曾注意周围人类生活的世界的人们来说，这一天将唤醒他们认识到他们自己与它的关系；这一天将在他们面前展现出在他们自己偏狭的同情与估价中天性被扭曲的情形；这种扭曲一旦开始，在它的发展过程中，就会像降落到最低层的堕落一样显著，然而又同样自然。
可是这样一天的曙光始终没有照射到董贝先生和妻子身上；他们各走各的道路。
在他发生不幸事故之后的六个月中，他们之间的关系没有发生任何变化。大理石的岩石也不能比她更顽固地阻挡他的道路。岩洞深处丝毫照不到阳光的冰冷的泉水也不能比他更阴沉、更冷冰冰的了。
当建立一个新的家庭的前景开始出现的时候弗洛伦斯心中曾经升起的希望，现在已完全消失了。这个家庭建立已有近两年之久了，甚至连她耐性的期待也经受不住每天这种冷酷经验的摧残。如果说在她心中还存有一线希望：在某个遥远的将来伊迪丝跟她父亲有一天将会一起过着幸福的生活的话，那么她现在对她父亲有一天会爱她的希望是丝毫也没有了。有一段短短的时间，她曾以为她看到他变得宽厚起来了，但现在，她在对他在这前后冷淡态度的长久的记忆中，这段时间已被忘记了；即使记起来，也仅仅被看作是一个令人悲哀的错觉而已。
弗洛伦斯仍然爱他，但是渐渐地把他当作一个曾经是或可能是她的一个亲人去爱，而不是把他当作一个出现在她眼前的冷酷的人物去爱。他喜欢回忆小保罗或她母亲时所怀有的某种已经减轻了的悲哀现在似乎进入了她对他的思念之中，而且使这种思念成为仿佛是一种亲切的回忆。她说不出为什么她所爱的父亲对她已成为一种模糊不清的、像梦一般的概念——是不是因为他对她来说已经死去了，还是因为一方面他跟这些她过去所热爱的对象有关，另一方面她的现已消逝的希望以及她的遭到他冷酷对待的亲切感情与他长久地联系在一起的缘故。有时在她的想象中，她的弟弟仍然活着，而且已长成为一个男子汉，爱着她并保护着她；父亲这个模糊不清的概念跟她的现实生活实质上的联系几乎不超过她想象中的这个已长成为男子汉的弟弟。
她的这个变化（如果这可以称为变化的话）是不知不觉地发生的，就像她从童年转变为一个成年的女性一样，而且是与这个转变同时发生的。当弗洛伦斯在孤独的沉思中意识到这些思想时，她差不多已十七岁了。
现在她时常是孤身一人，因为她跟她妈妈先前的联系发生了很大的变化。当她父亲遭遇不幸事故、躺在楼下自己房间里的时候，弗洛伦斯第一次注意到，伊迪丝回避她。她在感情上受到了创伤，在心中受到震惊，又不明白这怎么能和她们每次相遇时伊迪丝那亲切的感情调和呢，于是她又一次在夜间走进伊迪丝的房间。
“妈妈，”弗洛伦斯悄悄地走近她的身旁，说道，“我得罪您了吗？”
伊迪丝回答道，“没有。”
“我一定做错什么事了，”弗洛伦斯说道，“请告诉我是什么吧。您对我的态度改变了，亲爱的妈妈。我说不出我是多么迅速地感觉到最细微的变化，因为我全心全意地爱您。”
“就像我爱你一样，”伊迪丝说道，“啊，弗洛伦斯，请相信我，我从没有比现在更强烈地爱你！”
“为什么您时常离开我、回避我呢？”弗洛伦斯问道，“为什么您有时那么奇怪地看着我呢，亲爱的妈妈？您是这样的，难道不是吗？”
伊迪丝用她的黑眼睛表示同意。
“为什么呢？”弗洛伦斯恳求地问道，“告诉我为什么，这样我好知道怎样更好地使您高兴。请跟我说，我们不应当再这样了。”
“我亲爱的弗洛伦斯，”伊迪丝回答道，一边紧紧地握着搂抱住她脖子的手，注视着那双十分亲热地注视着她的眼睛，这时弗洛伦斯跪在她的面前；“这是什么原因，我不能告诉你。这是我不应当说，也是你不应当听的。可是我知道；但事实就是这样，而且必须是这样的，这点我知道。如果我不知道的话，难道我会这样对待你吗？”
“是不是我们必须相互疏远，妈妈？”弗洛伦斯像一个受了惊吓的人那样注视着她，问道。
伊迪丝无声地动了动嘴唇，作出一个说“是”的形状。
弗洛伦斯怀着更大的恐惧与惊异，望着她，直到流到脸上的泪水迷糊了她的眼睛，使她看不见伊迪丝为止。
“弗洛伦斯！我的命根子！”伊迪丝急忙说道，“请听我说。看到你这样悲伤，我受不了。冷静些。你看我是沉着冷静的，难道我做到这点是容易的吗？”
她说最后几个字的时候，又恢复了镇静的与态度，并立即补充道：
“不是完全疏远。只是部分地疏远。仅仅在表面上装装样子，弗洛伦斯，因为在我的内心，我对你仍旧和过去一样，而且将永远是这样。不过我这样做并不是为了我自己。”
“是为了我吗，妈妈？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“知道事实是怎么样的，这就够了，”伊迪丝停了一下，说道，“至于为什么这样做，这无关紧要。亲爱的弗洛伦斯，我们应当少来往一些，这样比较好——这是必要的——，必须是这样。我们相互间一直保持着的亲密无间的友谊必须断绝。”
“什么时候？”弗洛伦斯喊道，“啊妈妈，什么时候？”
“现在，”伊迪丝说道。
“今后永远这样吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“我没有说这一点，”伊迪丝回答道，“我不知道这一点。我也不说，我们的伴侣关系充其量只是不适宜、不正当的。不过我可以知道，这种伴侣关系不会有好处。我到这里所走过的道路是经过许多你将永远也不会走的小路的。我今后的道路——天知道通往哪里——我看不见它。”
她的消逝了，然后沉寂了；她坐在那里，看着弗洛伦斯，几乎要从弗洛伦斯身边退缩；在她眼光中流露出某种奇怪的恐惧与竭力回避的神色，弗洛伦斯以前有一次也曾注意到这同样的神色。接着她的全身和脸上顿时显露出与那一次同样阴郁的高傲与愤怒的激情，就像一架疯狂的竖琴的弦上忽然激烈地弹奏出愤怒的声调一样。可是随之而来的不是温柔或谦恭。她这一次没有低下头，没有哭，也没有说，她没有别的希望，她的一切希望都寄托在弗洛伦斯身上了。她高昂着头，仿佛她是美丽的美杜莎①一样，面对面地看着人，以便杀死他。是的，如果她掌握了这种魔力的话，她真会这样做的。
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①美杜莎（Medusa）：希腊神话中的蛇发女怪。
“妈妈，”弗洛伦斯忧虑地说道，“除了您对我所说的之外，您还发生了一种使我吃惊的变化。让我在您身边多待一会儿吧。”
“不，”伊迪丝说道，“不，最亲爱的。我现在最好是单独一个人，我最好避开你。别向我提任何问题，只请你相信：当我似乎对你三心二意，反复无常的时候，我不是出于本意，也不是为了我自己。请相信，虽然我们彼此比过去疏远，但我在内心里对你并没有改变。请原谅我把你的暗淡的家庭变得更加暗淡了——我很清楚，我是投射在你家的一个阴影。让我们永远别再谈论这一点吧。”
“妈妈，”弗洛伦斯哭泣道，“我们将不会分离吧？”
“我们这样做就正是为了使我们可以不分离，”伊迪丝说道，“别再问什么。走吧，弗洛伦斯！我的爱和悔恨伴随着你！”
她拥抱了她，然后放开让她走；当弗洛伦斯走出房间的时候，伊迪丝目送着这离开的人儿，仿佛她的善良的守护神已化为一个形象离开了她，把她留下，听凭高傲与愤怒的情绪支配；现在这两种激情占据了她，在她的前额上表露出来。
从这时候起，弗洛伦斯和她不再像以前一样经常待在一起。她们在好多天中很少见面，只有在用餐和董贝先生在场的时候除外。在这种场合，伊迪丝威严，坚定，沉默，一眼也不看她。当有卡克先生参加时（在董贝先生恢复健康期间及以后，这是时常有的情形），伊迪丝就比平时更避开她，对她更疏远冷淡。可是当她单独和弗洛伦斯相遇、旁边没有其他人的时候，她就像过去一样情深意切地拥抱她，虽然她那高傲的神色已不像过去一样变得那么温柔了。当她夜间从外面回来晚了的时候，她时常像过去一样，悄悄地摸着黑暗走进
Chapter 48
The Flight of Florence
In the wildness of her sorrow, shame, and terror, the forlorn girl hurried through the sunshine of a bright morning, as if it were the darkness of a winter night. Wringing her hands and weeping bitterly, insensible to everything but the deep wound in her breast, stunned by the loss of all she loved, left like the sole survivor on a lonely shore from the wreck of a great vessel, she fled without a thought, without a hope, without a purpose, but to fly somewhere anywhere.
The cheerful vista of the long street, burnished by the morning light, the sight of the blue sky and airy clouds, the vigorous freshness of the day, so flushed and rosy in its conquest of the night, awakened no responsive feelings in her so hurt bosom. Somewhere, anywhere, to hide her head! somewhere, anywhere, for refuge, never more to look upon the place from which she fled!
But there were people going to and fro; there were opening shops, and servants at the doors of houses; there was the rising clash and roar of the day's struggle. Florence saw surprise and curiosity in the faces flitting past her; saw long shadows coming back upon the pavement; and heard voices that were strange to her asking her where she went, and what the matter was; and though these frightened her the more at first, and made her hurry on the faster, they did her the good service of recalling her in some degree to herself, and reminding her of the necessity of greater composure.
Where to go? Still somewhere, anywhere! still going on; but where! She thought of the only other time she had been lost in the wild wilderness of London - though not lost as now - and went that way. To the home of Walter's Uncle.
Checking her sobs, and drying her swollen eyes, and endeavouring to calm the agitation of her manner, so as to avoid attracting notice, Florence, resolving to keep to the more quiet streets as long as she could, was going on more quietly herself, when a familiar little shadow darted past upon the sunny pavement, stopped short, wheeled about, came close to her, made off again, bounded round and round her, and Diogenes, panting for breath, and yet making the street ring with his glad bark, was at her feet.
'Oh, Di! oh, dear, true, faithful Di, how did you come here? How could I ever leave you, Di, who would never leave me?'
Florence bent down on the pavement, and laid his rough, old, loving, foolish head against her breast, and they got up together, and went on together; Di more off the ground than on it, endeavouring to kiss his mistress flying, tumbling over and getting up again without the least concern, dashing at big dogs in a jocose defiance of his species, terrifying with touches of his nose young housemaids who were cleaning doorsteps, and continually stopping, in the midst of a thousand extravagances, to look back at Florence, and bark until all the dogs within hearing answered, and all the dogs who could come out, came out to stare at him.
With this last adherent, Florence hurried away in the advancing morning, and the strengthening sunshine, to the City. The roar soon grew more loud, the passengers more numerous, the shops more busy, until she was carried onward in a stream of life setting that way, and flowing, indifferently, past marts and mansions, prisons, churches, market-places, wealth, poverty, good, and evil, like the broad river side by side with it, awakened from its dreams of rushes, willows, and green moss, and rolling on, turbid and troubled, among the works and cares of men, to the deep sea.
At length the quarters of the little Midshipman arose in view. Nearer yet, and the little Midshipman himself was seen upon his post, intent as ever on his observations. Nearer yet, and the door stood open, inviting her to enter. Florence, who had again quickened her pace, as she approached the end of her journey, ran across the road (closely followed by Diogenes, whom the bustle had somewhat confused), ran in, and sank upon the threshold of the well-remembered little parlour.
The Captain, in his glazed hat, was standing over the fire, making his morning's cocoa, with that elegant trifle, his watch, upon the chimney-piece, for easy reference during the progress of the cookery. Hearing a footstep and the rustle of a dress, the Captain turned with a palpitating remembrance of the dreadful Mrs MacStinger, at the instant when Florence made a motion with her hand towards him, reeled, and fell upon the floor.
The Captain, pale as Florence, pale in the very knobs upon his face raised her like a baby, and laid her on the same old sofa upon which she had slumbered long ago.
'It's Heart's Delight!' said the Captain, looking intently in her face. 'It's the sweet creetur grow'd a woman!'
Captain Cuttle was so respectful of her, and had such a reverence for her, in this new character, that he would not have held her in his arms, while she was unconscious, for a thousand pounds.
'My Heart's Delight!' said the Captain, withdrawing to a little distance, with the greatest alarm and sympathy depicted on his countenance. 'If you can hail Ned Cuttle with a finger, do it!'
But Florence did not stir.
'My Heart's Delight!' said the trembling Captain. 'For the sake of Wal'r drownded in the briny deep, turn to, and histe up something or another, if able!'
Finding her insensible to this impressive adjuration also, Captain Cuttle snatched from his breakfast-table a basin of cold water, and sprinkled some upon her face. Yielding to the urgency of the case, the Captain then, using his immense hand with extraordinary gentleness, relieved her of her bonnet, moistened her lips and forehead, put back her hair, covered her feet with his own coat which he pulled off for the purpose, patted her hand - so small in his, that he was struck with wonder when he touched it - and seeing that her eyelids quivered, and that her lips began to move, continued these restorative applications with a better heart.
'Cheerily,' said the Captain. 'Cheerily! Stand by, my pretty one, stand by! There! You're better now. Steady's the word, and steady it is. Keep her so! Drink a little drop o' this here,' said the Captain. 'There you are! What cheer now, my pretty, what cheer now?'
At this stage of her recovery, Captain Cuttle, with an imperfect association of a Watch with a Physician's treatment of a patient, took his own down from the mantel-shelf, and holding it out on his hook, and taking Florence's hand in his, looked steadily from one to the other, as expecting the dial to do something.
'What cheer, my pretty?' said the Captain. 'What cheer now? You've done her some good, my lad, I believe,' said the Captain, under his breath, and throwing an approving glance upon his watch. 'Put you back half-an-hour every morning, and about another quarter towards the arternoon, and you're a watch as can be ekalled by few and excelled by none. What cheer, my lady lass!'
'Captain Cuttle! Is it you?' exclaimed Florence, raising herself a little.
'Yes, yes, my lady lass,' said the Captain, hastily deciding in his own mind upon the superior elegance of that form of address, as the most courtly he could think of.
'Is Walter's Uncle here?' asked Florence.
'Here, pretty?' returned the Captain. 'He ain't been here this many a long day. He ain't been heerd on, since he sheered off arter poor Wal'r. But,' said the Captain, as a quotation, 'Though lost to sight, to memory dear, and England, Home, and Beauty!'
'Do you live here?' asked Florence.
'Yes, my lady lass,' returned the Captain.
'Oh, Captain Cuttle!' cried Florence, putting her hands together, and speaking wildly. 'Save me! keep me here! Let no one know where I am! I'll tell you what has happened by-and-by, when I can. I have no one in the world to go to. Do not send me away!'
'Send you away, my lady lass!' exclaimed the Captain. 'You, my Heart's Delight! Stay a bit! We'll put up this here deadlight, and take a double turn on the key!'
With these words, the Captain, using his one hand and his hook with the greatest dexterity, got out the shutter of the door, put it up, made it all fast, and locked the door itself.
When he came back to the side of Florence, she took his hand, and kissed it. The helplessness of the action, the appeal it made to him, the confidence it expressed, the unspeakable sorrow in her face, the pain of mind she had too plainly suffered, and was suffering then, his knowledge of her past history, her present lonely, worn, and unprotected appearance, all so rushed upon the good Captain together, that he fairly overflowed with compassion and gentleness.
'My lady lass,' said the Captain, polishing the bridge of his nose with his arm until it shone like burnished copper, 'don't you say a word to Ed'ard Cuttle, until such times as you finds yourself a riding smooth and easy; which won't be to-day, nor yet to-morrow. And as to giving of you up, or reporting where you are, yes verily, and by God's help, so I won't, Church catechism, make a note on!'
This the Captain said, reference and all, in one breath, and with much solemnity; taking off his hat at 'yes verily,' and putting it on again, when he had quite concluded.
Florence could do but one thing more to thank him, and to show him how she trusted in him; and she did it' Clinging to this rough creature as the last asylum of her bleeding heart, she laid her head upon his honest shoulder, and clasped him round his neck, and would have kneeled down to bless him, but that he divined her purpose, and held her up like a true man.
'Steady!' said the Captain. 'Steady! You're too weak to stand, you see, my pretty, and must lie down here again. There, there!' To see the Captain lift her on the sofa, and cover her with his coat, would have been worth a hundred state sights. 'And now,' said the Captain, 'you must take some breakfast, lady lass, and the dog shall have some too. And arter that you shall go aloft to old Sol Gills's room, and fall asleep there, like a angel.'
Captain Cuttle patted Diogenes when he made allusion to him, and Diogenes met that overture graciously, half-way. During the administration of the restoratives he had clearly been in two minds whether to fly at the Captain or to offer him his friendship; and he had expressed that conflict of feeling by alternate waggings of his tail, and displays of his teeth, with now and then a growl or so. But by this time, his doubts were all removed. It was plain that he considered the Captain one of the most amiable of men, and a man whom it was an honour to a dog to know.
In evidence of these convictions, Diogenes attended on the Captain while he made some tea and toast, and showed a lively interest in his housekeeping. But it was in vain for the kind Captain to make such preparations for Florence, who sorely tried to do some honour to them, but could touch nothing, and could only weep and weep again.
'Well, well!' said the compassionate Captain, 'arter turning in, my Heart's Delight, you'll get more way upon you. Now, I'll serve out your allowance, my lad.' To Diogenes. 'And you shall keep guard on your mistress aloft.'
Diogenes, however, although he had been eyeing his intended breakfast with a watering mouth and glistening eyes, instead of falling to, ravenously, when it was put before him, pricked up his ears, darted to the shop-door, and barked there furiously: burrowing with his head at the bottom, as if he were bent on mining his way out.
'Can there be anybody there!' asked Florence, in alarm.
'No, my lady lass,' returned the Captain. 'Who'd stay there, without making any noise! Keep up a good heart, pretty. It's only people going by.'
But for all that, Diogenes barked and barked, and burrowed and burrowed, with pertinacious fury; and whenever he stopped to listen, appeared to receive some new conviction into his mind, for he set to, barking and burrowing again, a dozen times. Even when he was persuaded to return to his breakfast, he came jogging back to it, with a very doubtful air; and was off again, in another paroxysm, before touching a morsel.
'If there should be someone listening and watching,' whispered Florence. 'Someone who saw me come - who followed me, perhaps.'
'It ain't the young woman, lady lass, is it?' said the Captain, taken with a bright idea
'Susan?' said Florence, shaking her head. 'Ah no! Susan has been gone from me a long time.'
'Not deserted, I hope?' said the Captain. 'Don't say that that there young woman's run, my pretty!'
'Oh, no, no!' cried Florence. 'She is one of the truest hearts in the world!'
The Captain was greatly relieved by this reply, and expressed his satisfaction by taking off his hard glazed hat, and dabbing his head all over with his handkerchief, rolled up like a ball, observing several times, with infinite complacency, and with a beaming countenance, that he know'd it.
'So you're quiet now, are you, brother?' said the Captain to Diogenes. 'There warn't nobody there, my lady lass, bless you!'
Diogenes was not so sure of that. The door still had an attraction for him at intervals; and he went snuffing about it, and growling to himself, unable to forget the subject. This incident, coupled with the Captain's observation of Florence's fatigue and faintness, decided him to prepare Sol Gills's chamber as a place of retirement for her immediately. He therefore hastily betook himself to the top of the house, and made the best arrangement of it that his imagination and his means suggested.
It was very clean already; and the Captain being an orderly man, and accustomed to make things ship-shape, converted the bed into a couch, by covering it all over with a clean white drapery. By a similar contrivance, the Captain converted the little dressing-table into a species of altar, on which he set forth two silver teaspoons, a flower-pot, a telescope, his celebrated watch, a pocket-comb, and a song-book, as a small collection of rarities, that made a choice appearance. Having darkened the window, and straightened the pieces of carpet on the floor, the Captain surveyed these preparations with great delight, and descended to the little parlour again, to bring Florence to her bower.
Nothing would induce the Captain to believe that it was possible for Florence to walk upstairs. If he could have got the idea into his head, he would have considered it an outrageous breach of hospitality to allow her to do so. Florence was too weak to dispute the point, and the Captain carried her up out of hand, laid her down, and covered her with a great watch-coat.
'My lady lass!' said the Captain, 'you're as safe here as if you was at the top of St Paul's Cathedral, with the ladder cast off. Sleep is what you want, afore all other things, and may you be able to show yourself smart with that there balsam for the still small woice of a wounded mind! When there's anything you want, my Heart's Delight, as this here humble house or town can offer, pass the word to Ed'ard Cuttle, as'll stand off and on outside that door, and that there man will wibrate with joy.' The Captain concluded by kissing the hand that Florence stretched out to him, with the chivalry of any old knight-errant, and walking on tiptoe out of the room.
Descending to the little parlour, Captain Cuttle, after holding a hasty council with himself, decided to open the shop-door for a few minutes, and satisfy himself that now, at all events, there was no one loitering about it. Accordingly he set it open, and stood upon the threshold, keeping a bright look-out, and sweeping the whole street with his spectacles.
'How de do, Captain Gills?' said a voice beside him. The Captain, looking down, found that he had been boarded by Mr Toots while sweeping the horizon.
'How are, you, my lad?' replied the Captain.
'Well, I m pretty well, thank'ee, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots. 'You know I'm never quite what I could wish to be, now. I don't expect that I ever shall be any more.'
Mr Toots never approached any nearer than this to the great theme of his life, when in conversation with Captain Cuttle, on account of the agreement between them.
'Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, 'if I could have the pleasure of a word with you, it's - it's rather particular.'
'Why, you see, my lad,' replied the Captain, leading the way into the parlour, 'I ain't what you may call exactly free this morning; and therefore if you can clap on a bit, I should take it kindly.'
'Certainly, Captain Gills,' replied Mr Toots, who seldom had any notion of the Captain's meaning. 'To clap on, is exactly what I could wish to do. Naturally.'
'If so be, my lad,' returned the Captain. 'Do it!'
The Captain was so impressed by the possession of his tremendous secret - by the fact of Miss Dombey being at that moment under his roof, while the innocent and unconscious Toots sat opposite to him - that a perspiration broke out on his forehead, and he found it impossible, while slowly drying the same, glazed hat in hand, to keep his eyes off Mr Toots's face. Mr Toots, who himself appeared to have some secret reasons for being in a nervous state, was so unspeakably disconcerted by the Captain's stare, that after looking at him vacantly for some time in silence, and shifting uneasily on his chair, he said:
'I beg your pardon, Captain Gills, but you don't happen to see anything particular in me, do you?'
'No, my lad,' returned the Captain. 'No.'
'Because you know,' said Mr Toots with a chuckle, 'I kNOW I'm wasting away. You needn't at all mind alluding to that. I - I should like it. Burgess and Co. have altered my measure, I'm in that state of thinness. It's a gratification to me. I - I'm glad of it. I - I'd a great deal rather go into a decline, if I could. I'm a mere brute you know, grazing upon the surface of the earth, Captain Gills.'
The more Mr Toots went on in this way, the more the Captain was weighed down by his secret, and stared at him. What with this cause of uneasiness, and his desire to get rid of Mr Toots, the Captain was in such a scared and strange condition, indeed, that if he had been in conversation with a ghost, he could hardly have evinced greater discomposure.
'But I was going to say, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots. 'Happening to be this way early this morning - to tell you the truth, I was coming to breakfast with you. As to sleep, you know, I never sleep now. I might be a Watchman, except that I don't get any pay, and he's got nothing on his mind.'
'Carry on, my lad!' said the Captain, in an admonitory voice.
'Certainly, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots. 'Perfectly true! Happening to be this way early this morning (an hour or so ago), and finding the door shut - '
'What! were you waiting there, brother?' demanded the Captain.
'Not at all, Captain Gills,' returned Mr Toots. 'I didn't stop a moment. I thought you were out. But the person said - by the bye, you don't keep a dog, you, Captain Gills?'
The Captain shook his head.
'To be sure,' said Mr Toots, 'that's exactly what I said. I knew you didn't. There is a dog, Captain Gills, connected with - but excuse me. That's forbidden ground.'
The Captain stared at Mr Toots until he seemed to swell to twice his natural size; and again the perspiration broke out on the Captain's forehead, when he thought of Diogenes taking it into his head to come down and make a third in the parlour.
'The person said,' continued Mr Toots, 'that he had heard a dog barking in the shop: which I knew couldn't be, and I told him so. But he was as positive as if he had seen the dog.'
'What person, my lad?' inquired the Captain.
'Why, you see there it is, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, with a perceptible increase in the nervousness of his manner. 'It's not for me to say what may have taken place, or what may not have taken place. Indeed, I don't know. I get mixed up with all sorts of things that I don't quite understand, and I think there's something rather weak in my - in my head, in short.'
The Captain nodded his own, as a mark of assent.
'But the person said, as we were walking away,' continued Mr Toots, 'that you knew what, under existing circumstances, might occur - he said "might," very strongly - and that if you were requested to prepare yourself, you would, no doubt, come prepared.'
'Person, my lad' the Captain repeated.
'I don't know what person, I'm sure, Captain Gills,' replied Mr Toots, 'I haven't the least idea. But coming to the door, I found him waiting there; and he said was I coming back again, and I said yes; and he said did I know you, and I said, yes, I had the pleasure of your acquaintance - you had given me the pleasure of your acquaintance, after some persuasion; and he said, if that was the case, would I say to you what I have said, about existing circumstances and coming prepared, and as soon as ever I saw you, would I ask you to step round the corner, if it was only for one minute, on most important business, to Mr Brogley's the Broker's. Now, I tell you what, Captain Gills - whatever it is, I am convinced it's very important; and if you like to step round, now, I'll wait here till you come back.'
The Captain, divided between his fear of compromising Florence in some way by not going, and his horror of leaving Mr Toots in possession of the house with a chance of finding out the secret, was a spectacle of mental disturbance that even Mr Toots could not be blind to. But that young gentleman, considering his nautical friend as merely in a state of preparation for the interview he was going to have, was quite satisfied, and did not review his own discreet conduct without chuckle
At length the Captain decided, as the lesser of two evils, to run round to Brogley's the Broker's: previously locking the door that communicated with the upper part of the house, and putting the key in his pocket. 'If so be,' said the Captain to Mr Toots, with not a little shame and hesitation, 'as you'll excuse my doing of it, brother.'
'Captain Gills,' returned Mr Toots, 'whatever you do, is satisfactory to me.
The Captain thanked him heartily, and promising to come back in less than five minutes, went out in quest of the person who had entrusted Mr Toots with this mysterious message. Poor Mr Toots, left to himself, lay down upon the sofa, little thinking who had reclined there last, and, gazing up at the skylight and resigning himself to visions of Miss Dombey, lost all heed of time and place.
It was as well that he did so; for although the Captain was not gone long, he was gone much longer than he had proposed. When he came back, he was very pale indeed, and greatly agitated, and even looked as if he had been shedding tears. He seemed to have lost the faculty of speech, until he had been to the cupboard and taken a dram of rum from the case-bottle, when he fetched a deep breath, and sat down in a chair with his hand before his face.
'Captain Gills,' said Toots, kindly, 'I hope and trust there's nothing wrong?'
'Thank'ee, my lad, not a bit,' said the Captain. 'Quite contrairy.'
'You have the appearance of being overcome, Captain Gills,' observed Mr Toots.
'Why, my lad, I am took aback,' the Captain admitted. 'I am.'
'Is there anything I can do, Captain Gills?' inquired Mr Toots. 'If there is, make use of me.'
The Captain removed his hand from his face, looked at him with a remarkable expression of pity and tenderness, and took him by the hand, and shook it hard.
'No, thank'ee,' said the Captain. 'Nothing. Only I'll take it as a favour if you'll part company for the present. I believe, brother,' wringing his hand again, 'that, after Wal'r, and on a different model, you're as good a lad as ever stepped.'
'Upon my word and honour, Captain Gills,' returned Mr Toots, giving the Captain's hand a preliminary slap before shaking it again, 'it's delightful to me to possess your good opinion. Thank'ee.
'And bear a hand and cheer up,' said the Captain, patting him on the back. 'What! There's more than one sweet creetur in the world!'
'Not to me, Captain Gills,' replied Mr Toots gravely. 'Not to me, I assure you. The state of my feelings towards Miss Dombey is of that unspeakable description, that my heart is a desert island, and she lives in it alone. I'm getting more used up every day, and I'm proud to be so. If you could see my legs when I take my boots off, you'd form some idea of what unrequited affection is. I have been prescribed bark, but I don't take it, for I don't wish to have any tone whatever given to my constitution. I'd rather not. This, however, is forbidden ground. Captain Gills, goodbye!'
Captain Cuttle cordially reciprocating the warmth of Mr Toots's farewell, locked the door behind him, and shaking his head with the same remarkable expression of pity and tenderness as he had regarded him with before, went up to see if Florence wanted him.
There was an entire change in the Captain's face as he went upstairs. He wiped his eyes with his handkerchief, and he polished the bridge of his nose with his sleeve as he had done already that morning, but his face was absolutely changed. Now, he might have been thought supremely happy; now, he might have been thought sad; but the kind of gravity that sat upon his features was quite new to them, and was as great an improvement to them as if they had undergone some sublimating process.
He knocked softly, with his hook, at Florence's door, twice or thrice; but, receiving no answer, ventured first to peep in, and then to enter: emboldened to take the latter step, perhaps, by the familiar recognition of Diogenes, who, stretched upon the ground by the side of her couch, wagged his tail, and winked his eyes at the Captain, without being at the trouble of getting up.
She was sleeping heavily, and moaning in her sleep; and Captain Cuttle, with a perfect awe of her youth, and beauty, and her sorrow, raised her head, and adjusted the coat that covered her, where it had fallen off, and darkened the window a little more that she might sleep on, and crept out again, and took his post of watch upon the stairs. All this, with a touch and tread as light as Florence's own.
Long may it remain in this mixed world a point not easy of decision, which is the more beautiful evidence of the Almighty's goodness - the delicate fingers that are formed for sensitiveness and sympathy of touch, and made to minister to pain and grief, or the rough hard Captain Cuttle hand, that the heart teaches, guides, and softens in a moment!
Florence slept upon her couch, forgetful of her homelessness and orphanage, and Captain Cuttle watched upon the stairs. A louder sob or moan than usual, brought him sometimes to her door; but by degrees she slept more peacefully, and the Captain's watch was undisturbed.
这位孤独无助的女孩子怀着极度的悲痛、羞耻与恐怖，在晴朗的早晨的阳光中奔跑着，仿佛这是一个黑暗的冬夜一样。她使劲绞扭着自己的手，痛苦地哭着，除了胸中深刻的创伤之外，什么也感觉不到；由于失去了她所爱的一切，她晕眩发愣；就像一只大船遭难以后在荒凉的海滨唯一还活下来的人一样，她没有思想，没有希望，没有目的地奔跑着，只想跑到一个什么地方去——任何地方都可以。
长街的林荫路景被晨曦抹上一层光泽，令人赏心悦目；蓝色的天空中飘浮着几朵轻轻的白云；白天战胜黑夜之后，精神抖擞，生气勃勃，脸上泛上一片红晕；但这一切在她破碎的心中却唤不起任何反应的感情。到一个什么地方去，任何地方都可以，只要能把她隐藏起来就行！到一个什么地方去，任何地方都可以，只要能找到一个避身之处，永远也不再去看到她逃出来的地方就行！
可是街道上行人来来往往；商店开着门，仆人们出现在房屋的门口；人们为日常生活与工作奔忙而引起的纷争与喧嚣正在逐渐增加。弗洛伦斯看到从她身旁匆匆走过的脸上露出了惊异与好奇的表情，看到长长的影子怎样又返回到人行道上；她听到陌生的在问她，她到哪里去，发生了什么事；虽然这些情况最初使她更加惊恐，促使她加快步子，更加急忙地往前跑去，可是它们却同时使她在一定程度上恢复冷静，并提醒她必须更加泰然自若，这对她是有好处的。
到哪里去？仍然是到一个什么地方去，任何地方都可以！仍然是一直往前走。可是走到哪里去呢？她想起她在唯一的另一次，曾经在这宽阔茫茫的伦敦迷了路——虽然并不是像现在这样迷了路——，于是就沿着那条路走去。到沃尔特舅舅的家里去。
弗洛伦斯抑制住啜泣，擦干了臃肿的眼睛，竭力使她激动的心情平静下来，以免引起行人的注意，并决定尽可能沿着行人比较稀少的街道走，她自己也更镇静了；这时候一个熟悉的小影子飞快地冲到阳光照射着的人行道上来，突然停住，转着圈子，跑近她的身边，然后又跑开，在她的四周跳跃着，原来是戴奥吉尼斯跑到她的脚边来了；它喘着气，但仍让街上响彻了它的快乐的吠叫声。
“啊，戴！啊亲爱的、真诚的、忠实的戴，你怎么跑到这里来的？你永远也不会离开我，我怎么能离开你呢，戴？”
弗洛伦斯在人行道上弯下身去，把他的毛发蓬乱、久已熟悉、感情深切而又傻里傻气的头紧贴在她的胸前，然后一道站起来，一道向前走去。戴跳离地面的时间比在地上走的时间还多，因为它力图飞跳起来去吻他的女主人；它在地上打滚，然后又无忧无虑地起来，向大狗猛冲过去，向它的同类开玩笑地进行挑战；它吓唬正在清扫门阶的年轻女仆，用鼻子去碰她们；它还经常在作了种种放纵的行为之后，突然停下来，回头看着弗洛伦斯，并吠叫着，直到后来附近所有能听到的狗都响应地吠叫起来，所有能跑出来的狗都跑出来瞪着眼睛看着它。
弗洛伦斯跟这个最后的追随者一起，在早晨时间的流逝中，在逐渐热起来的阳光中，向着伦敦城赶紧走去。不久，喧嚣声更响了，行人更多了，商店更忙碌了，直到后来，朝着这个方向流去的生活的溪流载着她向前流去，它像和它并排流动的宽阔的大河一样漠不关心地流过商业中心地带，流过大厦，流过监狱，流过教堂、流过市集，流过财富，流过贫困，流过善与恶；它曾经梦到过芦苇、杨柳与青苔，这时它从这些梦中醒过来，在人们的工作中与忧虑中，混浊不清、起伏不平地滚滚流向深海。
终于，小海军军官候补生管辖的地盘已经出现在眼前了。再走近一些，小海军军官候补生本人也看得见了；他站在他的岗位上，像往常一样，专心致志地观察着。再走近一些，开着的门在邀请她进去。弗洛伦斯在接近旅程终点时已重新加快了步伐，这时跑着穿过了道路（戴奥吉尼斯紧紧跟着，街上熙熙攘攘、乱乱哄哄的景象使它莫名其妙），从门中穿了进去，倒在她记得清清楚楚的小客厅的门槛上。
船长戴着上了光的帽子，站在炉火前面，正煮着早晨的可可；他那精致漂亮的玩艺儿——他的表搁在壁炉架上，这样他在煮可可的时候就可以方便地知道时间。他听到脚步声和衣服移动时发出的窸窣声，心房怦怦跳动地想起可怕的麦克斯适杰太太，于是就转过身去；就在这个时刻，弗洛伦斯向他伸出手，头脑发晕，倒在地板上。
船长脸色像弗洛伦斯一样苍白，脸上的每一个疙瘩都苍白了；他把她像个婴孩一样托了起来，放在她好久以前曾经睡过的那张沙发上。
“这是心的喜悦！”船长目不转睛地注视着她的脸，说道，“这就是那个可爱的小人儿，现在已长成一个大姑娘了！”
卡特尔船长对她是这样有礼貌，对现已成年的她是这样尊敬，就是给他一千镑，他也不会在她没有知觉的情况下把她抱在怀里的。
“我的心的喜悦！”船长向后退了几步，脸上露出极大的惊慌与同情，说道：“如果您能用个指头给内德•卡特尔打出一个信号，那就请打出吧！”
可是弗洛伦斯没有动。
“我的心的喜悦！”颤抖着的船长说道。“看在淹死在深海中的沃尔特的分上，随风转舵吧；如果可能的话，那么就请升上一面什么旗吧！”
卡特尔船长看到她对这打动人心的恳求也毫无感觉，就从吃早餐的桌子上取来一盆冷水，洒了一些在她脸上。由于情况紧急，船长用他的大手非常轻柔地摘下她的帽子，蘸湿她的嘴唇和前额，把她的头发撩回去，还特地脱下他自己的外套，盖在她的脚上，并轻轻地拍着她的手——她的手在他的手中显得那么小，他接触到它的时候，感到万分惊讶——；当他看到她的眼皮在颤动，她的嘴唇开始翕动的时候，他怀着轻松一些的心情，继续进行这些抢救措施。
“高高兴兴地，”船长说道，“高高兴兴地！做好准备，我的宝贝，做好准备！就这样！您现在好一些了。沉着气！别着急！就这么办！现在喝几滴吧，”船长说道，“您看，我说对了吧！现在怎么样，我的宝贝，现在怎么样？”
在她开始慢慢恢复过来的时候，卡特尔船长把表跟医生诊察病人的方法模糊地联系起来了；他从壁炉架上取下表，挂在他的钩子上，然后把弗洛伦斯的手放在他的手里，不断地一会儿看看手，一会儿看看表，好像指望从表的针盘上看到什么似的。
“现在怎么样，我的宝贝？”船长说道，“现在怎么样？我觉得，你已给她帮了一些忙，我的孩子，”船长低声说道，一边向表赞许地看了一眼。“每天早上把你拨回半小时，每天傍晚把你拨回大约一刻钟，这样就只有少数几只表能跟你不分高低，能超过你的就绝对没有了。现在怎么样，我的小姑娘夫人？”
“卡特尔船长，是您吗？”弗洛伦斯稍稍欠起身来，喊道。
“是的，是的，我的小姑娘夫人，”船长在心中急忙决定采用这个最优美的称呼方式，这是他所能想出来的最尊敬的称呼方式。
“沃尔特舅舅在这里吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“在这里吗，宝贝？”船长回答道，“他已好久不在这里了。自从他出去寻找可怜的沃尔特以后，就没有听到他的消息了。不过，”船长采用了一段引语，说道，“虽然已看不到他了，但却仍亲切地怀念着他；英国，故乡与美丽万岁！”
“您住在这里吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“是的，我的小姑娘夫人，”船长回答道。
“啊，卡特尔船长，”弗洛伦斯喊道，一边把两只手合在一起，疯狂似地说着。“救救我吧！把我留在这里吧！别让任何人知道我在哪里！不久等我恢复精力以后，我会把发生的事情告诉您的。在这世界上，我已没有可以投靠的人了。别把我打发走吧！”
“把您打发走，我的小姑娘夫人！”船长高声喊道。“您，我的心的喜悦，等一会儿，我们把舷窗盖关紧，把钥匙在锁眼里转动两次！”
船长说完之后，就极其熟练地用一只手和他的钩子从门上取下护窗板，把它关上，并把门锁紧。
当他回到弗洛伦斯身边的时候，她拉过他的手，吻了吻它。她在这个动作中表达出她无依无靠的处境，也表达了她对他的恳求和她对他的信任；在她脸上流露出难以形容的悲伤。她在精神上无疑曾经受到而且还继续受着痛苦；他知道她过去的历史，又看到她现在孤苦伶仃、精疲力竭、毫无保护的状态，——所有这一切全都涌集到善良的船长的心头，使他充满了怜悯与温厚的感情。
“我的小姑娘夫人，”船长说道，一边用袖子擦着鼻梁，把它擦得像磨亮的铜一样，闪闪发亮，“在你觉得能风平浪静、从容自在地航行之前，请一个字也别跟爱德华•卡特尔说。不在今天，也不在明天。至于说把您抛弃，或者去报告您在哪里，那么说实话，依靠上帝帮助，我是不会干这种事情的。请去翻一下《教义问答》，在找到这句话的地方，请做个记号！”
这些话连同《教义问答》的引语，船长是一口气说出来的，说时一本正经，在说到“说实话”的时候，他摘下了帽子，在所有的话都说完之后又把它戴上。
弗洛伦斯唯一能做的事就是感谢他，并向他表示她信任他，她这样做了。她抱住这个性格粗犷的人，把他作为她悲痛的心的最后一个庇护所；她把头靠在他的诚实的肩膀上，搂着他的脖子，本来还想跪下去感谢他，可是他猜到了她的意图，就像一个真正的男子汉一样制止了她。
“镇静！”船长说道。“镇静！您知道，我的宝贝，您太虚弱了，不好站着，必须再躺到这里来。好了，好了！”看看船长怎样把她托起来，放到沙发上，并把他的外套覆盖着她，即使把成百个壮丽的景色丢开不看，那也是值得的，“现在，”船长说道，“您必须吃点早饭，小姑娘夫人，这条狗也要吃点。
然后您上楼到老所尔•吉尔斯的房间去，像天使一样睡一觉。”
卡特尔船长提到戴奥吉尼斯的时候，抚摸抚摸它，戴奥吉尼斯亲切地迎着他走过去接受这一建议。在船长对弗洛伦斯进行抢救措施的时候，他显然打不定主意，是向船长猛扑过去呢，还是向他表示友好。他感情上的这种斗争，表现在或者摇摇尾巴，或者露露牙齿，有时还嗥叫一、两声。但到这时他的疑团已完全消除了。很明显，他认为船长是最和蔼可亲的人们当中的一位，跟他认识对任何一条狗来说都是光荣的。
可以证明他怀有这样信念的是，当船长在泡茶和烤面包片的时候，他一直跟随着船长，并对他的家务管理表示出浓厚的兴趣。可是仁厚的船长给弗洛伦斯准备这些饮食却是白费力气，她本想要表示一点领情的心意，尽量设法吃一点，但却什么也吃不下去，而只能哭着，不住地哭着。
“好了，好了，”富有同情心的船长说道，“你需要睡觉了，我的心的喜悦，睡一觉之后你跑的航程会更多。现在，我要给你发口粮了，我的孩子。”他对戴奥吉尼斯说道。“在这之后，你应当到楼上去守卫你的女主人。”
戴奥吉尼斯起初虽然流着口水，眼睛闪着亮光，直盯盯地看着指定给他的早餐，但是当把早餐端到他面前的时候，他却没有饿得迫不及待地向它扑过去，而是竖起耳朵，奔到店门边，狂暴地吠叫着，并用鼻面在门槛下面打着洞，仿佛他想要掘通一条出路似的。
“难道那里有什么人吗？”弗洛伦斯惊恐地问道。
“没有，我的小姑娘夫人，”船长回答道。“有谁到这里会不敲门的呢？大胆些，别害怕，宝贝。看来只不过有人路过这里罢了。”
可是虽然这么说，戴奥吉尼斯仍怀着难以消除的怒气，吠叫着，吠叫着，在门槛下面打着洞，打着洞；每当他停下来听一听的时候，他总好像是更有信心似的，因为他又开始吠叫和打洞，这样反复了十多次。甚至当劝他回去吃早餐的时候，他还是露出十分疑惑的神色，慢吞吞地走着；然后一口也没吃，又突然发起怒来，向门口猛冲过去。
“是不是有什么人在那里偷听和偷看？”弗洛伦斯低声说道，“也许有什么人看到我到这里来了——有什么人跟随着我吧。”
“那位姑娘不会到这里来吧，小姑娘夫人？”船长心中忽然闪现出一个想法，就这样问道。
“苏珊？”弗洛伦斯摇摇头，说道。“嗳，不会的！苏珊早就离开我了。”
“我希望，不是抛开你，擅自离走的吧？”船长问道。“别跟我讲那位姑娘逃跑的事，我的宝贝！”
“啊，不，不！”弗洛伦斯喊道，“她的心是世界上最忠诚的心当中的一个。”
船长听到这个回答，感到十分宽慰，他取下那顶上了光的硬帽子，用卷得像一只球似的手绢轻轻拍打着脑袋各处，并怀着无比自得的心情，露出喜气洋洋的神色，几次重复说道，他知道这一点，他就这样来表示他的满意。
“好了，你现在安静了，是不是，老弟？”船长对戴奥吉尼斯说道，“那里没有什么人，我的小姑娘夫人，上帝保佑您！”
戴奥吉尼斯对这一点倒并不是那么确信无疑。门仍不时吸引他的注意。他嗅嗅它，嗥叫着。没有把这件事忘记。这个情况，以及船长注意到弗洛伦斯的疲倦和虚弱，使卡特尔船长决定立即把所尔•吉尔斯的卧房收拾收拾，作为她隐居休息的地方。因此他急忙跑到房屋顶层，凭着他的想象和他能够动用的材料，把它尽可能布置得好一些。
房间已经很干净了；船长是个有条理的人，习惯于把东西收拾得像船里一样整整齐齐；他把床改成一张躺椅，在上面盖一块干净的白布；船长采用类似的设计，把化妆台改成一个类似圣坛似的东西；他在上面摆了两只银茶匙，一个花盆，一架望远镜，他的有名的表，一只可以随身携带的梳子，一本歌曲集；这些珍品集合在一起，看上去十分优美。船长把窗帘拉下，使房间的光线阴暗一些，又把地板上的地毯拉平，然后十分高兴地把这些布置好了的物品打量了一番以后，又走到楼下的小客厅里去把弗洛伦斯安置到她的闺房里来。
船长无论如何也不会相信弗洛伦斯有力气走上楼去；如果他真以为她有力气上去的话，那么他也认为让弗洛伦斯独自上楼，是粗暴地违反了他殷勤款待客人的规则。弗洛伦斯太虚弱了，不能不同意他的这个看法，所以船长立即用手把她托着送上楼，然后放下来，用航海值班时穿着的一件厚大衣盖在她身上。
“我的小姑娘夫人，”船长说道，“我把梯子抽掉以后，您在这里就像待在圣保罗大教堂里一样安全了。您首先需要睡觉；您的受了创伤的心还有一些痛，但采用香膏治疗之后，也许能使你精神愉快起来！我的心的喜悦，如果您需要什么东西，这个粗陋的住宅或这个城市能够提供的话，那么请您就对爱德华•卡特尔说一句；他将到门外去给您站岗放哨，这样您就会使他心里高兴，精神振奋的。”船长说完之后，像一位老游侠骑士一样，崇敬有礼地吻了吻弗洛伦斯向他伸出的手，并踮着脚尖走出了房间。
卡特尔船长走到楼下小会客室里，心里急忙琢磨了一番之后，决定把店门打开几分钟，使他自己放心，至少现在没有什么人在附近闲逛。因此，他打开门，站在门槛上，小心戒备，戴上眼镜，扫视着整个街道。
“您好，吉尔斯船长！”他身旁的一个声音说道。船长低头看，发现当他向远处扫视的时候，图茨先生已经靠近他了。
“您好吗，我的孩子，”船长回答道。
“唔，我很好，谢谢您，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，“您知道，我从没有像现在感觉得这么好，这正是我所希望的。
我也不指望今后什么时候还能会这样好的了。”
图茨先生跟卡特尔船长谈话的时候，从来没有像现在这样明白地暗示过他生活中的这个重要的话题，因为他遵守他们之间达成的协议。
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，“如果我能荣幸地跟您谈一句话的话，这是——这是一件重要的事情。”
“啊，您听我说，我的孩子，”船长回答道，一边把他领到客厅里，“今天早上我不很空；所以您如果能急忙张帆的话，那么我将会十分感谢。”
“当然，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生回答道，他不太明白船长话中的含意。“急忙张帆，这正是我希望要做的事情。这是很自然的。”
“如果是这样的话，我的孩子，”船长回答道，“那就请这么做吧。”
船长由于保守着那极大的秘密——董贝小姐这时候就在他的家里，而天真的图茨先生则坐在他的对面，对这一无所知——，心神十分不定，额上都冒出了一颗汗珠。当他手里拿着上了光的帽子，慢条斯理地把它擦干的时候，他觉得他不能把眼睛从图茨先生的脸上移开。看来，图茨先生本人也有一些秘密的理由使他感到紧张不安；船长的凝视使他心烦意乱；他默默地、发呆地向他看了一些时候，很不自在地在椅子上移来移去，然后说道：
“请原谅，吉尔斯船长，您没有看到我有什么特殊的地方吧，是不是？”
“没有，我的孩子，”船长回答道，“没有。”
“因为您知道，”图茨先生吃吃地笑了一下，说道，“我知道我瘦了。您丝毫不必顾虑，指出这一点好了。我——我喜欢这样。我瘦得这个样子，伯吉斯公司已经重新量了我的尺寸。我感到满意。我——我喜欢这样。如果我能做得到的话，那么我真十分愿意衰弱下去。您知道，我只不过是一头在地面上吃草的畜牲罢了。吉尔斯船长。”
图茨先生愈是这样滔滔不绝地说下去，船长被他自己的秘密压得愈是难受，也就愈是凝神地注视着他。由于存在这样一个使他感到不安的原因，又由于他一心想摆脱掉图茨先生，所以他当时处在十分惶恐与奇怪的状态中；如果他是在跟一个鬼怪交谈的话，那么他也未必会露出更为心绪不宁的神色的。
“可是我现在想跟您谈一下，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，“今天早上我正好往这里走过来，——说老实话吧，我想来跟您一道吃早饭。至于睡觉，您知道，我现在完全不睡觉了。我可以说跟一位更夫一样，所不同的是，没有人给我发工资，更夫也没有什么沉重的心事。”
“说下去，我的孩子！”船长用警告的语气说道。
“当然，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道。“完全正确！今天早上我正好往这里走过来（大概在一个小时以前），发现门关着——”
“怎么！是•您在门口等候着呀，老弟？”船长问道。
“完全不是，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生回答道。“我片刻也没有停留。我以为您出去了。可是那人说——顺便问一下，您家里没有养狗吧，•是•不•是，吉尔斯船长？”
船长摇摇头。
“不错，”图茨先生说道，“我也正是这样说的。我知道您没有养狗。有一条狗，吉尔斯船长，是属于——不过对不起。
那是禁区。”
船长凝神看着图茨先生，直到他的身形似乎比原来的大出一倍为止；当船长想到戴奥吉尼斯忽然想要跑到楼下来，成为客厅里的第三者的时候，他的额上又冒汗了。
“那个人说，“图茨先生继续说道，“他听见有条狗在这店里叫；但我知道这是不可能的，我也是这样对他说的；可是他说得那么斩钉截铁，仿佛他亲眼看到那条狗似的。”
“是个什么人，我的孩子？”船长问道。
“唔，您看，事情是这样的，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生神态显得更加紧张不安，说道，“这不该由我来说什么事情可能发生或什么事情可能不会发生。确实，我不知道。我把我不十分明白的各种事情全混淆了，我觉得我的——直截了当地说吧，我觉得我的脑子有些差劲。”
船长点点头，表示同意。
“可是当我们离开的时候，”图茨先生继续说道，“那个人说，您知道在目前情况下•可•能会发生什么事情——他说‘可能’这两个字的时候是很富于表情的。——他还说，如果请您做好准备的话，那么您无疑就会做好准备的。”
“这是个什么人，我的孩子？”船长重复问道。
“确实，我不知道这是个什么人，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生回答道，“我一点也不知道。不过我走到门口的时候，发现他在那里等候着；他问我是不是还回来，我说还回来，他问我是不是认识您，我说是的，在我向您请求之后，我荣幸地跟您结识了；他说，如果是这样的话，那么我是不是跟您说一说我刚才已经对您说过的，关于在目前情况下和做好准备等等那些话；他还说，是不是我一见到您，就请您拐过这条街角，到经纪人布罗格利先生那里去一下。哪怕去一分钟也好，因为有一件极为重要的事情。我不知道这是一件什么事情，但我相信那是很重要的；如果您高兴现在就去，那么我可以在这里等您回来。”
船长担心不去会在某些方面连累到弗洛伦斯，但又怕把图茨先生单独留在屋子里，他可能碰巧会发现那个秘密，这左右为难的考虑使他心烦意乱，甚至连图茨先生也看出来了。不过这位年轻的先生以为他这位海员朋友只不过是在为即将进行的会晤进行准备，所以感到很满意，当他回想到自己谨慎的行为时，他还吃吃地笑了几声。
两害相权取其轻。船长终于决定到经纪人布罗格利那里去，并事先把通到楼上的门锁上，钥匙放在他自己的衣袋中。
“如果是这样的话，”船长不是毫无羞愧与犹豫地对图茨先生说道，“请您原谅我这么做吧，老弟。”
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生回答道，“不论您做什么，我都是满意的。”
船长由衷地感谢他，答应在不到五分钟的时间内回来，然后就出去寻找那位托图茨先生捎带这神秘口讯的人。可怜的图茨先生在独自留下的时候，躺在沙发上，根本没有猜想到谁曾经在这里躺过，同时仰望着天窗，沉陷在对董贝小姐的胡思乱想之中，忘记了时间与地点。
对他来说这样倒也有好处；因为船长虽然走了不久，但比他原先提出的时间还是长久好多。他回来的时候，脸色苍白，情绪十分激动，甚至看去仿佛流过眼泪似的。他似乎失去了说话的能力，直到他走到碗柜跟前，深深地吸了一口气，用手捂着脸，在椅子中坐下来为止。
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨亲切地问道，“我希望，而且我也相信，没有什么不好的事情吧？”
“谢谢您，我的孩子，一点也没有。”船长说道，“情况恰恰相反。”
“从您的神态看，您太激动了，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道。
“唔，我的孩子，我被吓了一跳，”船长承认道，“确实是这样。”
“我能帮助您做点事情吗，吉尔斯船长？”图茨先生说道。
“如果有什么事情需要我帮助的话，那么您就指派我去做吧。”
船长把手从脸上拿下来，露出某种异常怜悯与亲切的表情看着他，并拉住他的手，紧紧地握着。
“没有，谢谢您，”船长说道。“没有什么事。不过如果您现在跟我告别的话，那么我就觉得您是给我做了一件好事了。我相信，老弟，”他又紧握着他的手，“除了沃尔特，您是世界上最好的孩子了，虽然您跟他是不同的类型。”
“说实话，我以荣誉发誓，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生回答道，他先轻轻地拍了一下船长的手，然后又握着它，“我真高兴能得到您的好评。谢谢您。”
“请您帮个忙，高兴起来吧，”船长拍拍他的背，说道。
“有什么了不起！世界上可爱的姑娘不止一个哪！”
“对我来说不是这样，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生一本正经地回答道。“请相信我，对我来说不是这样。我对董贝小姐的感情是难以形容的；我的心是一个荒岛，只有她一个人住在上面。我一天天地消瘦下去，我对这感到自豪。如果您能看到我脱掉靴子以后的腿，那么您对什么是单恋就可以有一点概念了。医生给我开药方，让我服规那皮，可是我没有服，因为我根本不想增强我的体质。是的，我不想。不过，这是禁区。吉尔斯船长，再见！”
卡特尔船长真心诚意地回答了图茨先生热情的告别，然后把门锁上，一边露出和他刚才看图茨时同样异常的怜悯与亲切的表情，摇着头，一边上楼去看看弗洛伦斯是否需要他帮忙。
船长上楼去的时候，脸上的表情完全改变了。他用手绢抹去眼泪，又像他这天早上所做的那样，用袖子擦亮他的鼻梁；可是他脸上的表情是截然不同地改变了。他一会儿看上去是无比地快乐，一会儿看上去又像是怀着悲伤的心情；但是在他脸上有一种庄重的神色，却是过去从来没有过的，它使他的容貌变得漂亮起来了，仿佛他的脸已经历过某种升华的过程似的。
他用钩子轻轻地在弗洛伦斯的门上敲了两、三下；但是得不到任何回答，他就大胆地先往里窥探了一下，然后走进去；他之所以大胆地采取了后一个步骤，也许是因为戴奥吉尼斯把他当做熟人来欢迎的缘故。戴奥吉尼斯伸直身子，躺在她的睡椅旁边的地上，向船长摇着尾巴，眨巴着眼睛，但却懒得起来。
她正在酣睡，在睡眠中还哼叫着。卡特尔船长对她的年轻、美丽和忧伤怀着完全崇敬的心情，抬起她的头，把这时已经掉落的大衣重新拉好，复盖在她身上，并把窗帘遮蔽得更严密一些，使她可以继续好好地睡觉，然后又踮着脚尖，走出房间，在楼梯上守卫。他所做的这一切，不论是接触一下还是移动一下脚步，全都是轻悄悄的，就像弗洛伦斯自己的一样。
在这复杂的世界上可能还会长久留下一个不易判断的问题：哪一个能更美好地证明全能的上帝的慈善？——是那创造出来，为了进行同情的、温存的抚摸，并用来减轻痛苦与悲哀的巧妙的手指呢？还是那只由心灵进行教育、指导并能在片刻间使它变得温柔起来的、卡特尔船长的粗糙的、坚硬的手呢？
弗洛伦斯在她的躺椅中睡着，忘记了她无家可归、孤苦伶仃的处境；卡特尔船长则在楼梯上守卫着。一声比平常更响的抽泣或哼叫有时促使他走到她的门口，但是逐渐地，她睡得比较沉静了；船长的守卫也没有再受到干扰。
Chapter 49
 The Midshipman makes a Discovery
It was long before Florence awoke. The day was in its prime, the day was in its wane, and still, uneasy in mind and body, she slept on; unconscious of her strange bed, of the noise and turmoil in the street, and of the light that shone outside the shaded window. Perfect unconsciousness of what had happened in the home that existed no more, even the deep slumber of exhaustion could not produce. Some undefined and mournful recollection of it, dozing uneasily but never sleeping, pervaded all her rest. A dull sorrow, like a half-lulled sense of pain, was always present to her; and her pale cheek was oftener wet with tears than the honest Captain, softly putting in his head from time to time at the half-closed door, could have desired to see it.
The sun was getting low in the west, and, glancing out of a red mist, pierced with its rays opposite loopholes and pieces of fretwork in the spires of city churches, as if with golden arrows that struck through and through them - and far away athwart the river and its flat banks, it was gleaming like a path of fire - and out at sea it was irradiating sails of ships - and, looked towards, from quiet churchyards, upon hill-tops in the country, it was steeping distant prospects in a flush and glow that seemed to mingle earth and sky together in one glorious suffusion - when Florence, opening her heavy eyes, lay at first, looking without interest or recognition at the unfamiliar walls around her, and listening in the same regardless manner to the noises in the street. But presently she started up upon her couch, gazed round with a surprised and vacant look, and recollected all.
'My pretty,' said the Captain, knocking at the door, 'what cheer?'
'Dear friend,' cried Florence, hurrying to him, 'is it you?'
The Captain felt so much pride in the name, and was so pleased by the gleam of pleasure in her face, when she saw him, that he kissed his hook, by way of reply, in speechless gratification.
'What cheer, bright di'mond?' said the Captain.
'I have surely slept very long,' returned Florence. 'When did I come here? Yesterday?'
'This here blessed day, my lady lass,' replied the Captain.
'Has there been no night? Is it still day?' asked Florence.
'Getting on for evening now, my pretty,' said the Captain, drawing back the curtain of the window. 'See!'
Florence, with her hand upon the Captain's arm, so sorrowful and timid, and the Captain with his rough face and burly figure, so quietly protective of her, stood in the rosy light of the bright evening sky, without saying a word. However strange the form of speech into which he might have fashioned the feeling, if he had had to give it utterance, the Captain felt, as sensibly as the most eloquent of men could have done, that there was something in the tranquil time and in its softened beauty that would make the wounded heart of Florence overflow; and that it was better that such tears should have their way. So not a word spake Captain Cuttle. But when he felt his arm clasped closer, and when he felt the lonely head come nearer to it, and lay itself against his homely coarse blue sleeve, he pressed it gently with his rugged hand, and understood it, and was understood.
'Better now, my pretty!' said the Captain. 'Cheerily, cheerily, I'll go down below, and get some dinner ready. Will you come down of your own self, arterwards, pretty, or shall Ed'ard Cuttle come and fetch you?'
As Florence assured him that she was quite able to walk downstairs, the Captain, though evidently doubtful of his own hospitality in permitting it, left her to do so, and immediately set about roasting a fowl at the fire in the little parlour. To achieve his cookery with the greater skill, he pulled off his coat, tucked up his wristbands, and put on his glazed hat, without which assistant he never applied himself to any nice or difficult undertaking.
After cooling her aching head and burning face in the fresh water which the Captain's care had provided for her while she slept, Florence went to the little mirror to bind up her disordered hair. Then she knew - in a moment, for she shunned it instantly, that on her breast there was the darkening mark of an angry hand.
Her tears burst forth afresh at the sight; she was ashamed and afraid of it; but it moved her to no anger against him. Homeless and fatherless, she forgave him everything; hardly thought that she had need to forgive him, or that she did; but she fled from the idea of him as she had fled from the reality, and he was utterly gone and lost. There was no such Being in the world.
What to do, or where to live, Florence - poor, inexperienced girl! - could not yet consider. She had indistinct dreams of finding, a long way off, some little sisters to instruct, who would be gentle with her, and to whom, under some feigned name, she might attach herself, and who would grow up in their happy home, and marry, and be good to their old governess, and perhaps entrust her, in time, with the education of their own daughters. And she thought how strange and sorrowful it would be, thus to become a grey-haired woman, carrying her secret to the grave, when Florence Dombey was forgotten. But it was all dim and clouded to her now. She only knew that she had no Father upon earth, and she said so, many times, with her suppliant head hidden from all, but her Father who was in Heaven.
Her little stock of money amounted to but a few guineas. With a part of this, it would be necessary to buy some clothes, for she had none but those she wore. She was too desolate to think how soon her money would be gone - too much a child in worldly matters to be greatly troubled on that score yet, even if her other trouble had been less. She tried to calm her thoughts and stay her tears; to quiet the hurry in her throbbing head, and bring herself to believe that what had happened were but the events of a few hours ago, instead of weeks or months, as they appeared; and went down to her kind protector.
The Captain had spread the cloth with great care, and was making some egg-sauce in a little saucepan: basting the fowl from time to time during the process with a strong interest, as it turned and browned on a string before the fire. Having propped Florence up with cushions on the sofa, which was already wheeled into a warm corner for her greater comfort, the Captain pursued his cooking with extraordinary skill, making hot gravy in a second little saucepan, boiling a handful of potatoes in a third, never forgetting the egg-sauce in the first, and making an impartial round of basting and stirring with the most useful of spoons every minute. Besides these cares, the Captain had to keep his eye on a diminutive frying-pan, in which some sausages were hissing and bubbling in a most musical manner; and there was never such a radiant cook as the Captain looked, in the height and heat of these functions: it being impossible to say whether his face or his glazed hat shone the brighter.
The dinner being at length quite ready, Captain Cuttle dished and served it up, with no less dexterity than he had cooked it. He then dressed for dinner, by taking off his glazed hat and putting on his coat. That done, he wheeled the table close against Florence on the sofa, said grace, unscrewed his hook, screwed his fork into its place, and did the honours of the table
'My lady lass,' said the Captain, 'cheer up, and try to eat a deal. Stand by, my deary! Liver wing it is. Sarse it is. Sassage it is. And potato!' all which the Captain ranged symmetrically on a plate, and pouring hot gravy on the whole with the useful spoon, set before his cherished guest.
'The whole row o' dead lights is up, for'ard, lady lass,' observed the Captain, encouragingly, 'and everythink is made snug. Try and pick a bit, my pretty. If Wal'r was here - '
'Ah! If I had him for my brother now!' cried Florence.
'Don't! don't take on, my pretty!' said the Captain, 'awast, to obleege me! He was your nat'ral born friend like, warn't he, Pet?'
Florence had no words to answer with. She only said, 'Oh, dear, dear Paul! oh, Walter!'
'The wery planks she walked on,' murmured the Captain, looking at her drooping face, 'was as high esteemed by Wal'r, as the water brooks is by the hart which never rejices! I see him now, the wery day as he was rated on them Dombey books, a speaking of her with his face a glistening with doo - leastways with his modest sentiments - like a new blowed rose, at dinner. Well, well! If our poor Wal'r was here, my lady lass - or if he could be - for he's drownded, ain't he?'
Florence shook her head.
'Yes, yes; drownded,' said the Captain, soothingly; 'as I was saying, if he could be here he'd beg and pray of you, my precious, to pick a leetle bit, with a look-out for your own sweet health. Whereby, hold your own, my lady lass, as if it was for Wal'r's sake, and lay your pretty head to the wind.'
Florence essayed to eat a morsel, for the Captain's pleasure. The Captain, meanwhile, who seemed to have quite forgotten his own dinner, laid down his knife and fork, and drew his chair to the sofa.
'Wal'r was a trim lad, warn't he, precious?' said the Captain, after sitting for some time silently rubbing his chin, with his eyes fixed upon her, 'and a brave lad, and a good lad?'
Florence tearfully assented.
'And he's drownded, Beauty, ain't he?' said the Captain, in a soothing voice.
Florence could not but assent again.
'He was older than you, my lady lass,' pursued the Captain, 'but you was like two children together, at first; wam't you?'
Florence answered 'Yes.'
'And Wal'r's drownded,' said the Captain. 'Ain't he?'
The repetition of this inquiry was a curious source of consolation, but it seemed to be one to Captain Cuttle, for he came back to it again and again. Florence, fain to push from her her untasted dinner, and to lie back on her sofa, gave him her hand, feeling that she had disappointed him, though truly wishing to have pleased him after all his trouble, but he held it in his own (which shook as he held it), and appearing to have quite forgotten all about the dinner and her want of appetite, went on growling at intervals, in a ruminating tone of sympathy, 'Poor Wal'r. Ay, ay! Drownded. Ain't he?' And always waited for her answer, in which the great point of these singular reflections appeared to consist.
The fowl and sausages were cold, and the gravy and the egg-sauce stagnant, before the Captain remembered that they were on the board, and fell to with the assistance of Diogenes, whose united efforts quickly dispatched the banquet. The Captain's delight and wonder at the quiet housewifery of Florence in assisting to clear the table, arrange the parlour, and sweep up the hearth - only to be equalled by the fervency of his protest when she began to assist him - were gradually raised to that degree, that at last he could not choose but do nothing himself, and stand looking at her as if she were some Fairy, daintily performing these offices for him; the red rim on his forehead glowing again, in his unspeakable admiration.
But when Florence, taking down his pipe from the mantel-shelf gave it into his hand, and entreated him to smoke it, the good Captain was so bewildered by her attention that he held it as if he had never held a pipe, in all his life. Likewise, when Florence, looking into the little cupboard, took out the case-bottle and mixed a perfect glass of grog for him, unasked, and set it at his elbow, his ruddy nose turned pale, he felt himself so graced and honoured. When he had filled his pipe in an absolute reverie of satisfaction, Florence lighted it for him - the Captain having no power to object, or to prevent her - and resuming her place on the old sofa, looked at him with a smile so loving and so grateful, a smile that showed him so plainly how her forlorn heart turned to him, as her face did, through grief, that the smoke of the pipe got into the Captain's throat and made him cough, and got into the Captain's eyes, and made them blink and water.
The manner in which the Captain tried to make believe that the cause of these effects lay hidden in the pipe itself, and the way in which he looked into the bowl for it, and not finding it there, pretended to blow it out of the stem, was wonderfully pleasant. The pipe soon getting into better condition, he fell into that state of repose becoming a good smoker; but sat with his eyes fixed on Florence, and, with a beaming placidity not to be described, and stopping every now and then to discharge a little cloud from his lips, slowly puffed it forth, as if it were a scroll coming out of his mouth, bearing the legend 'Poor Wal'r, ay, ay. Drownded, ain't he?' after which he would resume his smoking with infinite gentleness.
Unlike as they were externally - and there could scarcely be a more decided contrast than between Florence in her delicate youth and beauty, and Captain Cuttle with his knobby face, his great broad weather-beaten person, and his gruff voice - in simple innocence of the world's ways and the world's perplexities and dangers, they were nearly on a level. No child could have surpassed Captain Cuttle in inexperience of everything but wind and weather; in simplicity, credulity, and generous trustfulness. Faith, hope, and charity, shared his whole nature among them. An odd sort of romance, perfectly unimaginative, yet perfectly unreal, and subject to no considerations of worldly prudence or practicability, was the only partner they had in his character. As the Captain sat, and smoked, and looked at Florence, God knows what impossible pictures, in which she was the principal figure, presented themselves to his mind. Equally vague and uncertain, though not so sanguine, were her own thoughts of the life before her; and even as her tears made prismatic colours in the light she gazed at, so, through her new and heavy grief, she already saw a rainbow faintly shining in the far-off sky. A wandering princess and a good monster in a storybook might have sat by the fireside, and talked as Captain Cuttle and poor Florence talked - and not have looked very much unlike them.
The Captain was not troubled with the faintest idea of any difficulty in retaining Florence, or of any responsibility thereby incurred. Having put up the shutters and locked the door, he was quite satisfied on this head. If she had been a Ward in Chancery, it would have made no difference at all to Captain Cuttle. He was the last man in the world to be troubled by any such considerations.
So the Captain smoked his pipe very comfortably, and Florence and he meditated after their own manner. When the pipe was out, they had some tea; and then Florence entreated him to take her to some neighbouring shop, where she could buy the few necessaries she immediately wanted. It being quite dark, the Captain consented: peeping carefully out first, as he had been wont to do in his time of hiding from Mrs MacStinger; and arming himself with his large stick, in case of an appeal to arms being rendered necessary by any unforeseen circumstance.
The pride Captain Cuttle had, in giving his arm to Florence, and escorting her some two or three hundred yards, keeping a bright look-out all the time, and attracting the attention of everyone who passed them, by his great vigilance and numerous precautions, was extreme. Arrived at the shop, the Captain felt it a point of delicacy to retire during the making of the purchases, as they were to consist of wearing apparel; but he previously deposited his tin canister on the counter, and informing the young lady of the establishment that it contained fourteen pound two, requested her, in case that amount of property should not be sufficient to defray the expenses of his niece's little outfit - at the word 'niece,' he bestowed a most significant look on Florence, accompanied with pantomime, expressive of sagacity and mystery - to have the goodness to 'sing out,' and he would make up the difference from his pocket. Casually consulting his big watch, as a deep means of dazzling the establishment, and impressing it with a sense of property, the Captain then kissed his hook to his niece, and retired outside the window, where it was a choice sight to see his great face looking in from time to time, among the silks and ribbons, with an obvious misgiving that Florence had been spirited away by a back door.
'Dear Captain Cuttle,' said Florence, when she came out with a parcel, the size of which greatly disappointed the Captain, who had expected to see a porter following with a bale of goods, 'I don't want this money, indeed. I have not spent any of it. I have money of my own.'
'My lady lass,' returned the baffled Captain, looking straight down the street before them, 'take care on it for me, will you be so good, till such time as I ask ye for it?'
'May I put it back in its usual place,' said Florence, 'and keep it there?'
The Captain was not at all gratified by this proposal, but he answered, 'Ay, ay, put it anywheres, my lady lass, so long as you know where to find it again. It ain't o' no use to me,' said the Captain. 'I wonder I haven't chucked it away afore now.
The Captain was quite disheartened for the moment, but he revived at the first touch of Florence's arm, and they returned with the same precautions as they had come; the Captain opening the door of the little Midshipman's berth, and diving in, with a suddenness which his great practice only could have taught him. During Florence's slumber in the morning, he had engaged the daughter of an elderly lady who usually sat under a blue umbrella in Leadenhall Market, selling poultry, to come and put her room in order, and render her any little services she required; and this damsel now appearing, Florence found everything about her as convenient and orderly, if not as handsome, as in the terrible dream she had once called Home.
When they were alone again, the Captain insisted on her eating a slice of dry toast' and drinking a glass of spiced negus (which he made to perfection); and, encouraging her with every kind word and inconsequential quotation be could possibly think of, led her upstairs to her bedroom. But he too had something on his mind, and was not easy in his manner.
'Good-night, dear heart,' said Captain Cuttle to her at her chamber-door.
Florence raised her lips to his face, and kissed him.
At any other time the Captain would have been overbalanced by such a token of her affection and gratitude; but now, although he was very sensible of it, he looked in her face with even more uneasiness than he had testified before, and seemed unwilling to leave her.
'Poor Wal'r!' said the Captain.
'Poor, poor Walter!' sighed Florence.
'Drownded, ain't he?' said the Captain.
Florence shook her head, and sighed.
'Good-night, my lady lass!' said Captain Cuttle, putting out his hand.
'God bless you, dear, kind friend!'
But the Captain lingered still.
'Is anything the matter, dear Captain Cuttle?' said Florence, easily alarmed in her then state of mind. 'Have you anything to tell me?'
'To tell you, lady lass!' replied the Captain, meeting her eyes in confusion. 'No, no; what should I have to tell you, pretty! You don't expect as I've got anything good to tell you, sure?'
'No!' said Florence, shaking her head.
The Captain looked at her wistfully, and repeated 'No,' - ' still lingering, and still showing embarrassment.
'Poor Wal'r!' said the Captain. 'My Wal'r, as I used to call you! Old Sol Gills's nevy! Welcome to all as knowed you, as the flowers in May! Where are you got to, brave boy? Drownded, ain't he?'
Concluding his apostrophe with this abrupt appeal to Florence, the Captain bade her good-night, and descended the stairs, while Florence remained at the top, holding the candle out to light him down. He was lost in the obscurity, and, judging from the sound of his receding footsteps, was in the act of turning into the little parlour, when his head and shoulders unexpectedly emerged again, as from the deep, apparently for no other purpose than to repeat, 'Drownded, ain't he, pretty?' For when he had said that in a tone of tender condolence, he disappeared.
Florence was very sorry that she should unwittingly, though naturally, have awakened these associations in the mind of her protector, by taking refuge there; and sitting down before the little table where the Captain had arranged the telescope and song-book, and those other rarities, thought of Walter, and of all that was connected with him in the past, until she could have almost wished to lie down on her bed and fade away. But in her lonely yearning to the dead whom she had loved, no thought of home - no possibility of going back - no presentation of it as yet existing, or as sheltering her father - once entered her thoughts. She had seen the murder done. In the last lingering natural aspect in which she had cherished him through so much, he had been torn out of her heart, defaced, and slain. The thought of it was so appalling to her, that she covered her eyes, and shrunk trembling from the least remembrance of the deed, or of the cruel hand that did it. If her fond heart could have held his image after that, it must have broken; but it could not; and the void was filled with a wild dread that fled from all confronting with its shattered fragments - with such a dread as could have risen out of nothing but the depths of such a love, so wronged.
She dared not look into the glass; for the sight of the darkening mark upon her bosom made her afraid of herself, as if she bore about her something wicked. She covered it up, with a hasty, faltering hand, and in the dark; and laid her weary head down, weeping.
The Captain did not go to bed for a long time. He walked to and fro in the shop and in the little parlour, for a full hour, and, appearing to have composed himself by that exercise, sat down with a grave and thoughtful face, and read out of a Prayer-book the forms of prayer appointed to be used at sea. These were not easily disposed of; the good Captain being a mighty slow, gruff reader, and frequently stopping at a hard word to give himself such encouragement as Now, my lad! With a will!' or, 'Steady, Ed'ard Cuttle, steady!' which had a great effect in helping him out of any difficulty. Moreover, his spectacles greatly interfered with his powers of vision. But notwithstanding these drawbacks, the Captain, being heartily in earnest, read the service to the very last line, and with genuine feeling too; and approving of it very much when he had done, turned in, under the counter (but not before he had been upstairs, and listened at Florence's door), with a serene breast, and a most benevolent visage.
The Captain turned out several times in the course of the night, to assure himself that his charge was resting quietly; and once, at daybreak, found that she was awake: for she called to know if it were he, on hearing footsteps near her door.
'Yes' my lady lass,' replied the Captain, in a growling whisper. 'Are you all right, di'mond?'
Florence thanked him, and said 'Yes.'
The Captain could not lose so favourable an opportunity of applying his mouth to the keyhole, and calling through it, like a hoarse breeze, 'Poor Wal'r! Drownded, ain't he?' after which he withdrew, and turning in again, slept till seven o'clock.
Nor was he free from his uneasy and embarrassed manner all that day; though Florence, being busy with her needle in the little parlour, was more calm and tranquil than she had been on the day preceding. Almost always when she raised her eyes from her work, she observed the captain looking at her, and thoughtfully stroking his chin; and he so often hitched his arm-chair close to her, as if he were going to say something very confidential, and hitched it away again, as not being able to make up his mind how to begin, that in the course of the day he cruised completely round the parlour in that frail bark, and more than once went ashore against the wainscot or the closet door, in a very distressed condition.
It was not until the twilight that Captain Cuttle, fairly dropping anchor, at last, by the side of Florence, began to talk at all connectedly. But when the light of the fire was shining on the walls and ceiling of the little room, and on the tea-board and the cups and saucers that were ranged upon the table, and on her calm face turned towards the flame, and reflecting it in the tears that filled her eyes, the Captain broke a long silence thus:
'You never was at sea, my own?'
'No,' replied Florence.
'Ay,' said the Captain, reverentially; 'it's a almighty element. There's wonders in the deep, my pretty. Think on it when the winds is roaring and the waves is rowling. Think on it when the stormy nights is so pitch dark,' said the Captain, solemnly holding up his hook, 'as you can't see your hand afore you, excepting when the wiwid lightning reweals the same; and when you drive, drive, drive through the storm and dark, as if you was a driving, head on, to the world without end, evermore, amen, and when found making a note of. Them's the times, my beauty, when a man may say to his messmate (previously a overhauling of the wollume), "A stiff nor'wester's blowing, Bill; hark, don't you hear it roar now! Lord help 'em, how I pitys all unhappy folks ashore now!"' Which quotation, as particularly applicable to the terrors of the ocean, the Captain delivered in a most impressive manner, concluding with a sonorous 'Stand by!'
'Were you ever in a dreadful storm?' asked Florence.
'Why ay, my lady lass, I've seen my share of bad weather,' said the Captain, tremulously wiping his head, 'and I've had my share of knocking about; but - but it ain't of myself as I was a meaning to speak. Our dear boy,' drawing closer to her, 'Wal'r, darling, as was drownded.'
The Captain spoke in such a trembling voice, and looked at Florence with a face so pale and agitated, that she clung to his hand in affright.
'Your face is changed,' cried Florence. 'You are altered in a moment. What is it? Dear Captain Cuttle, it turns me cold to see you!'
'What! Lady lass,' returned the Captain, supporting her with his hand, 'don't be took aback. No, no! All's well, all's well, my dear. As I was a saying - Wal'r - he's - he's drownded. Ain't he?'
Florence looked at him intently; her colour came and went; and she laid her hand upon her breast.
'There's perils and dangers on the deep, my beauty,' said the Captain; 'and over many a brave ship, and many and many a bould heart, the secret waters has closed up, and never told no tales. But there's escapes upon the deep, too, and sometimes one man out of a score, - ah! maybe out of a hundred, pretty, - has been saved by the mercy of God, and come home after being given over for dead, and told of all hands lost. I - I know a story, Heart's Delight,' stammered the Captain, 'o' this natur, as was told to me once; and being on this here tack, and you and me sitting alone by the fire, maybe you'd like to hear me tell it. Would you, deary?'
Florence, trembling with an agitation which she could not control or understand, involuntarily followed his glance, which went behind her into the shop, where a lamp was burning. The instant that she turned her head, the Captain sprung out of his chair, and interposed his hand.
'There's nothing there, my beauty,' said the Captain. 'Don't look there.'
'Why not?' asked Florence.
The Captain murmured something about its being dull that way, and about the fire being cheerful. He drew the door ajar, which had been standing open until now, and resumed his seat. Florence followed him with her eyes, and looked intently in his face.
'The story was about a ship, my lady lass,' began the Captain, 'as sailed out of the Port of London, with a fair wind and in fair weather, bound for - don't be took aback, my lady lass, she was only out'ard bound, pretty, only out'ard bound!'
The expression on Florence's face alarmed the Captain, who was himself very hot and flurried, and showed scarcely less agitation than she did.
'Shall I go on, Beauty?' said the Captain.
'Yes, yes, pray!' cried Florence.
The Captain made a gulp as if to get down something that was sticking in his throat, and nervously proceeded:
'That there unfort'nate ship met with such foul weather, out at sea, as don't blow once in twenty year, my darling. There was hurricanes ashore as tore up forests and blowed down towns, and there was gales at sea in them latitudes, as not the stoutest wessel ever launched could live in. Day arter day that there unfort'nate ship behaved noble, I'm told, and did her duty brave, my pretty, but at one blow a'most her bulwarks was stove in, her masts and rudder carved away, her best man swept overboard, and she left to the mercy of the storm as had no mercy but blowed harder and harder yet, while the waves dashed over her, and beat her in, and every time they come a thundering at her, broke her like a shell. Every black spot in every mountain of water that rolled away was a bit o' the ship's life or a living man, and so she went to pieces, Beauty, and no grass will never grow upon the graves of them as manned that ship.'
'They were not all lost!' cried Florence. 'Some were saved! - Was one?'
'Aboard o' that there unfort'nate wessel,' said the Captain, rising from his chair, and clenching his hand with prodigious energy and exultation, 'was a lad, a gallant lad - as I've heerd tell - that had loved, when he was a boy, to read and talk about brave actions in shipwrecks - I've heerd him! I've heerd him! - and he remembered of 'em in his hour of need; for when the stoutest and oldest hands was hove down, he was firm and cheery. It warn't the want of objects to like and love ashore that gave him courage, it was his nat'ral mind. I've seen it in his face, when he was no more than a child - ay, many a time! - and when I thought it nothing but his good looks, bless him!'
'And was he saved!' cried Florence. 'Was he saved!'
'That brave lad,' said the Captain, - 'look at me, pretty! Don't look round - '
Florence had hardly power to repeat, 'Why not?'
'Because there's nothing there, my deary,' said the Captain. 'Don't be took aback, pretty creetur! Don't, for the sake of Wal'r, as was dear to all on us! That there lad,' said the Captain, 'arter working with the best, and standing by the faint-hearted, and never making no complaint nor sign of fear, and keeping up a spirit in all hands that made 'em honour him as if he'd been a admiral - that lad, along with the second-mate and one seaman, was left, of all the beatin' hearts that went aboard that ship, the only living creeturs - lashed to a fragment of the wreck, and driftin' on the stormy sea.
Were they saved?' cried Florence.
'Days and nights they drifted on them endless waters,' said the Captain, 'until at last - No! Don't look that way, pretty! - a sail bore down upon 'em, and they was, by the Lord's mercy, took aboard: two living and one dead.'
'Which of them was dead?' cried Florence.
'Not the lad I speak on,' said the Captain.
'Thank God! oh thank God!'
'Amen!' returned the Captain hurriedly. 'Don't be took aback! A minute more, my lady lass! with a good heart! - aboard that ship, they went a long voyage, right away across the chart (for there warn't no touching nowhere), and on that voyage the seaman as was picked up with him died. But he was spared, and - '
The Captain, without knowing what he did, had cut a slice of bread from the loaf, and put it on his hook (which was his usual toasting-fork), on which he now held it to the fire; looking behind Florence with great emotion in his face, and suffering the bread to blaze and burn like fuel.
'Was spared,' repeated Florence, 'and-?'
'And come home in that ship,' said the Captain, still looking in the same direction, 'and - don't be frightened, pretty - and landed; and one morning come cautiously to his own door to take a obserwation, knowing that his friends would think him drownded, when he sheered off at the unexpected - '
'At the unexpected barking of a dog?' cried Florence, quickly.
'Yes,' roared the Captain. 'Steady, darling! courage! Don't look round yet. See there! upon the wall!'
There was the shadow of a man upon the wall close to her. She started up, looked round, and with a piercing cry, saw Walter Gay behind her!
She had no thought of him but as a brother, a brother rescued from the grave; a shipwrecked brother saved and at her side; and rushed into his arms. In all the world, he seemed to be her hope, her comfort, refuge, natural protector. 'Take care of Walter, I was fond of Walter!' The dear remembrance of the plaintive voice that said so, rushed upon her soul, like music in the night. 'Oh welcome home, dear Walter! Welcome to this stricken breast!' She felt the words, although she could not utter them, and held him in her pure embrace.
Captain Cuttle, in a fit of delirium, attempted to wipe his head with the blackened toast upon his hook: and finding it an uncongenial substance for the purpose, put it into the crown of his glazed hat, put the glazed hat on with some difficulty, essayed to sing a verse of Lovely Peg, broke down at the first word, and retired into the shop, whence he presently came back express, with a face all flushed and besmeared, and the starch completely taken out of his shirt-collar, to say these words:
'Wal'r, my lad, here is a little bit of property as I should wish to make over, jintly!'
The Captain hastily produced the big watch, the teaspoons, the sugar-tongs, and the canister, and laying them on the table, swept them with his great hand into Walter's hat; but in handing that singular strong box to Walter, he was so overcome again, that he was fain to make another retreat into the shop, and absent himself for a longer space of time than on his first retirement.
But Walter sought him out, and brought him back; and then the Captain's great apprehension was, that Florence would suffer from this new shock. He felt it so earnestly, that he turned quite rational, and positively interdicted any further allusion to Walter's adventures for some days to come. Captain Cuttle then became sufficiently composed to relieve himself of the toast in his hat, and to take his place at the tea-board; but finding Walter's grasp upon his shoulder, on one side, and Florence whispering her tearful congratulations on the other, the Captain suddenly bolted again, and was missing for a good ten minutes.
But never in all his life had the Captain's face so shone and glistened, as when, at last, he sat stationary at the tea-board, looking from Florence to Walter, and from Walter to Florence. Nor was this effect produced or at all heightened by the immense quantity of polishing he had administered to his face with his coat-sleeve during the last half-hour. It was solely the effect of his internal emotions. There was a glory and delight within the Captain that spread itself over his whole visage, and made a perfect illumination there.
The pride with which the Captain looked upon the bronzed cheek and the courageous eyes of his recovered boy; with which he saw the generous fervour of his youth, and all its frank and hopeful qualities, shining once more, in the fresh, wholesome manner, and the ardent face, would have kindled something of this light in his countenance. The admiration and sympathy with which he turned his eyes on Florence, whose beauty, grace, and innocence could have won no truer or more zealous champion than himself, would have had an equal influence upon him. But the fulness of the glow he shed around him could only have been engendered in his contemplation of the two together, and in all the fancies springing out of that association, that came sparkling and beaming into his head, and danced about it.
How they talked of poor old Uncle Sol, and dwelt on every little circumstance relating to his disappearance; how their joy was moderated by the old man's absence and by the misfortunes of Florence; how they released Diogenes, whom the Captain had decoyed upstairs some time before, lest he should bark again; the Captain, though he was in one continual flutter, and made many more short plunges into the shop, fully comprehended. But he no more dreamed that Walter looked on Florence, as it were, from a new and far-off place; that while his eyes often sought the lovely face, they seldom met its open glance of sisterly affection, but withdrew themselves when hers were raised towards him; than he believed that it was Walter's ghost who sat beside him. He saw them together in their youth and beauty, and he knew the story of their younger days, and he had no inch of room beneath his great blue waistcoat for anything save admiration of such a pair, and gratitude for their being reunited.
They sat thus, until it grew late. The Captain would have been content to sit so for a week. But Walter rose, to take leave for the night.
'Going, Walter!' said Florence. 'Where?'
'He slings his hammock for the present, lady lass,' said Captain Cuttle, 'round at Brogley's. Within hail, Heart's Delight.'
'I am the cause of your going away, Walter,' said Florence. 'There is a houseless sister in your place.'
'Dear Miss Dombey,' replied Walter, hesitating - 'if it is not too bold to call you so!
Walter!' she exclaimed, surprised.
'If anything could make me happier in being allowed to see and speak to you, would it not be the discovery that I had any means on earth of doing you a moment's service! Where would I not go, what would I not do, for your sake?'
She smiled, and called him brother.
'You are so changed,' said Walter -
'I changed!' she interrupted.
'To me,' said Walter, softly, as if he were thinking aloud, 'changed to me. I left you such a child, and find you - oh! something so different - '
'But your sister, Walter. You have not forgotten what we promised to each other, when we parted?'
'Forgotten!' But he said no more.
'And if you had - if suffering and danger had driven it from your thoughts - which it has not - you would remember it now, Walter, when you find me poor and abandoned, with no home but this, and no friends but the two who hear me speak!'
'I would! Heaven knows I would!' said Walter.
'Oh, Walter,' exclaimed Florence, through her sobs and tears. 'Dear brother! Show me some way through the world - some humble path that I may take alone, and labour in, and sometimes think of you as one who will protect and care for me as for a sister! Oh, help me, Walter, for I need help so much!'
'Miss Dombey! Florence! I would die to help you. But your friends are proud and rich. Your father - '
'No, no! Walter!' She shrieked, and put her hands up to her head, in an attitude of terror that transfixed him where he stood. 'Don't say that word!'
He never, from that hour, forgot the voice and look with which she stopped him at the name. He felt that if he were to live a hundred years, he never could forget it.
Somewhere - anywhere - but never home! All past, all gone, all lost, and broken up! The whole history of her untold slight and suffering was in the cry and look; and he felt he never could forget it, and he never did.
She laid her gentle face upon the Captain's shoulder, and related how and why she had fled. If every sorrowing tear she shed in doing so, had been a curse upon the head of him she never named or blamed, it would have been better for him, Walter thought, with awe, than to be renounced out of such a strength and might of love.
'There, precious!' said the Captain, when she ceased; and deep attention the Captain had paid to her while she spoke; listening, with his glazed hat all awry and his mouth wide open. 'Awast, awast, my eyes! Wal'r, dear lad, sheer off for to-night, and leave the pretty one to me!'
Walter took her hand in both of his, and put it to his lips, and kissed it. He knew now that she was, indeed, a homeless wandering fugitive; but, richer to him so, than in all the wealth and pride of her right station, she seemed farther off than even on the height that had made him giddy in his boyish dreams.
Captain Cuttle, perplexed by no such meditations, guarded Florence to her room, and watched at intervals upon the charmed ground outside her door - for such it truly was to him - until he felt sufficiently easy in his mind about her, to turn in under the counter. On abandoning his watch for that purpose, he could not help calling once, rapturously, through the keyhole, 'Drownded. Ain't he, pretty?' - or, when he got downstairs, making another trial at that verse of Lovely Peg. But it stuck in his throat somehow, and he could make nothing of it; so he went to bed, and dreamed that old Sol Gills was married to Mrs MacStinger, and kept prisoner by that lady in a secret chamber on a short allowance of victuals.
弗洛伦斯长久没有醒来。白天到了它精力最充沛的时候，白天又到了它衰微不振的时候，但是身心交瘁的她却仍继续睡着，对她的陌生的床毫无知觉，对街上的喧嚣与热闹毫无知觉，对照射到被窗帘遮蔽着的窗子外面的光线也毫无知觉。不过即使是由于极度的疲劳而带来的深沉的睡眠，也不能使她完全忘却那个已不再存在的家中所发生的事情。她在不舒服地打盹，而并不是在真正地睡眠；这时候，某些模糊的、忧伤的回忆打扰了她的休息。一种郁郁不乐的悲哀像部分减轻的痛的感觉一样，一刻也没有离开她。她的苍白的脸颊时常被眼泪流湿；诚实的船长不时地把头悄悄地探进半掩的门中，真不希望看到它被流湿得这么多次。
太阳正在西边沉落下去；当它从红色的雾霭中向外探望时，它的光线穿透了对面城市教堂尖塔上的窥孔和浮雕装饰，仿佛用金色的箭射穿了它们一样；在远处，它横越过河流和平坦的河岸，像一条火的小径一样发着微光；在海洋上，它照耀着船帆；如果从坐落在城外山岗顶上的平静的教堂墓地望它的话，那么它正用耀眼的光辉笼罩着远方的景色，似乎在一片弥漫的壮丽的红光中把地和天连接起来；就在这个时候，弗洛伦斯睁开沉甸甸的眼皮，起初躺在那里漠不关心地、毫无觉察地看着四周不熟悉的墙壁，并用同样冷淡的态度听着街上的喧闹的。但是不一会儿，她从躺椅中跳了起来，用惊奇的、发呆的眼光注视着周围，并回忆起了所有的事情。
“我的宝贝，”船长敲着门，说道，“现在怎么样？”
“亲爱的朋友，”弗洛伦斯急忙向他跑过去，喊道，“是您吗？”
船长听到这称呼感到十分自豪；他看到她望着他时脸上露出的愉快的笑容，感到十分高兴，因此吻了吻他的钩子，作为回答，并默默地表示他心中的喜悦。
“现在怎么样，光辉的钻石？”船长问道。
“我一定睡得很长久了，”弗洛伦斯回答道。“我什么时候到这里来的？是昨天吗？”
“今天，就在今天这个可喜的日子，我的小姑娘夫人，”船长回答道。
“还没有到夜里吗？仍旧是白天吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“快到晚上了，我的宝贝，”船长拉开窗帘，说道，“瞧！”
弗洛伦斯手搁在船长的胳膊上，十分悲伤、胆怯；脸孔粗糙、身材魁伟的船长十分平静地保护着她，因此她站在灿烂的傍晚天空的玫瑰色光线中，一句话也没有说。如果船长能用语言来表达他的感情的话，那么他也许会采用很奇怪的表达方式，可是他像最能言善辩的人一样清楚地懂得，在这宁静的时刻中和在它的柔和的美中有某种东西能对弗洛伦斯的受创伤的心产生良好的效果；如果让这些眼泪自由地流淌，那将会是更好的。因此，卡特尔船长一句话也没有说。但是当他觉得她更紧地握着他的胳膊，当他觉得这孤苦伶仃的女孩子的头更靠近他，并紧贴在他的朴素的、粗劣的蓝衣袖上的时候，他就用粗糙的手温柔地按着它，并理解它；他也被弗洛伦斯所理解。
“现在好些了，我的宝贝！”船长说道。“高高兴兴地，高高兴兴地！我要到楼下去准备做点晚饭，宝贝；您等一会儿自己下楼呢，还是由爱德华•卡特尔来送您下去？”
弗洛伦斯请他相信，她能够自己走下楼去，因此船长虽然明显地怀疑，他殷勤招待客人的规矩是否允许这样做，但还是听凭她这样去做了；然后他立即在小客厅的炉火上烤了一只鸡。为了用更精巧的技术来进行烹调，他脱去上衣，卷起袖口，戴上上了光的帽子——没有帽子这个助手，他从来不从事任何不容马虎或困难费事的工作的。
弗洛伦斯用清水（这是船长在她睡觉时，出于关心，为她准备的）使她发痛的头和发烫的脸凉爽凉爽，然后她走到小镜子前，把她蓬乱的头发包扎好。这时候她看到，在她的胸前有一个发黑的斑痕，那是那只愤怒的手留下来的。她只是看了一刹那的工夫，因为她立刻把眼睛闪开了。
一看到这个伤痕，她的眼泪就重新流出来了；她觉得它是一种耻辱，并害怕见到它；但是它并没有驱使她对他生气。她没有家，没有父亲，但却仍然原谅了他的一切，几乎没有想到，她必须原谅他或者她已经原谅了他，而是她避开不去想他，就像她已经从现实世界中逃走一样；他已完全离开了，不存在了。在世界上已没有这样的人了。
今后做什么，今后到哪里去生活，弗洛伦斯——这个可怜的、没有经验的女孩子！——现在还不能考虑这些。她曾经模糊地梦想到遥远的什么地方去找到几个小妹妹，她去教她们；她们将亲切地对待她；她将采用一个化名，并热诚地爱她们；她们将在幸福的家庭中长大，结婚，善良地对待她们的老家庭女教师，也许到时候还会委托她去教育她们的女儿们。她曾想过，她这样变成一位头发斑白的女人，把她的秘密一直带进坟墓，而弗洛伦斯•董贝这个名字则被人们遗忘，这将是多么奇怪与悲伤的事啊！可是这一切现在对她来说都是十分模糊不清。她只知道，她在这尘世中没有父亲；当只剩下她单独一个人的时候，她向天国中的父亲祈祷，并这样说了许多次。
她积蓄起来的钱总共不过几基尼。从这当中需要拿出一部分去买些衣服，因为她除了身上穿着的以外，没有别的衣服了。她太悲伤了，顾不得去想她的钱会多么快地被用掉——因为她还是个对世俗事务很没有经验的孩子，即使她没有别的忧愁，她现在也还不会在这方面过份忧愁的。她努力使自己的思想平静下来，使自己的眼泪止住不流，使自己的情绪安定下来，并使自己相信，事情仅仅是在几小时以前，而不是像她觉得的那样，是在几星期或几个月以前发生的；然后她走下楼，到她仁厚的保护人那里去。
船长已经很细心地铺好了桌布，这时正在一只有柄的平底锅里做鸡蛋调味汁，在这同时，他怀着浓厚的兴趣，不时给鸡浇上油，鸡在绳子上转动着，被火烤成棕色。船长把弗洛伦斯用坐垫在沙发上支撑着（沙发已推到一个温暖的角落里，使她更为舒适），然后继续以非凡的技巧进行烹调：他在第二只平底锅中做热肉汁，在第三只平底锅中煮几个土豆，但决没有忘记第一只平底锅里的鸡蛋调味汁，在这同时又时刻不停地用匙子给鸡的各个部分均匀地浇上油，并把鸡在火上翻过来翻过去。除了照料这些事情外，船长还得注意看着一只小煎锅，锅里的一些香肠在冒着热气，并吱啦吱啦地发出十分悦耳的，世界上从来没有一位厨师在紧张操作时像船长这样容光焕发的，因此实在难以判断，究竟是他的脸还是他那顶上了光的帽子更亮一些。
晚饭终于做好了，卡特尔船长把它们盛在盘子里，端到桌子上，他那灵巧的动作丝毫也不比烹调时逊色。这时候，他摘掉那顶上了光的帽子，穿上外衣，作为他吃晚餐的礼服。然后他把有轮子的桌子推到坐在沙发上的弗洛伦斯跟前，做了饭前的祷告，又把那只当手的钩子的螺钉拧松，取下钩子，换上一把餐叉，接着又把螺钉拧紧，然后他充当起餐桌的主人来。
“我的小姑娘夫人，”船长说道，“高兴起来，设法多吃一些。做好准备，我的宝贝！这是小翅膀。这是调味汁。这是香肠。还有土豆！”船长把所有这些匀称地排列在一只盘子里，用那只有用的匙子在上面浇上热肉计，然后把盘子端到他所喜爱的客人面前。
“所有的舷窗盖都关上了，小姑娘夫人，”船长用鼓舞的口吻说道，“一切事情都安排妥当了。吃一点吧，我的宝贝。
如果沃尔在这里的话——”
“啊，如果我现在有他当我哥哥的话！”弗洛伦斯喊道。
“别！别伤心了，我的宝贝！”船长说道，“停一下，我请求您！他过去是您天生的、经受过考验的朋友，是不是，宝宝？”
弗洛伦斯没有什么话好回答。她只是说，“啊，亲爱的，亲爱的保罗呀！啊，沃尔特呀！”
“连她走过的甲板沃尔都是十分尊重的，”船长看着她那沮丧的脸孔，喃喃自语道，“就像从没有痛快喝够的公鹿尊敬溪水一样！他被列入董贝公司名册的那一天吃晚饭的时候，他谈到了她，脸上闪闪发光，就像一朵刚开放的玫瑰花一样；如果不是露珠在发光的话，那么至少是由于他怀着纯洁的感情，所以脸上才发光的。我现在就像那天看到他的情景一样看到了他。哎呀，哎呀！如果我们可怜的沃尔现在在这里的话，我的小姑娘夫人——或者说如果他能在这里的话——那该多好啊，因为他已经淹死了，是不是？”
弗洛伦斯点点头。
“是的，是的，淹死了，”船长安慰地说道，“我刚才说过，如果他能在这里的话，我的宝贝，那么他就一定会为了您的健康，请您，求您吃一点儿。所以说，您得支撑住自己，我的小姑娘夫人，就仿佛是看在沃尔的分上一样，并且迎着风，抬起您那漂亮的头。”
弗洛伦斯为了使船长高兴，试着吃了一口。这时候，船长似乎完全忘记他自己的晚饭，放下餐刀和叉子，把他的椅子拉到沙发旁边。
“沃尔是个漂亮的孩子，是不是，宝贝？”船长默默无言地坐了一会儿，擦着下巴，眼睛凝视着她，说道，“而且他又是一个勇敢的孩子，一个善良的孩子，是不是？”
弗洛伦斯眼泪汪汪地表示同意。
“他淹死了，是不是，美人儿？”船长用安慰的声调说道。
弗洛伦斯又只好表示同意。
“他比您大一些，我的小姑娘夫人，”船长继续说道，“但是当初你们两人就像两个孩子一样，是不是？”
弗洛伦斯回答道，“是的。”
“但是沃尔特淹死了，”船长说道。“是不是？”
如果多次地重复这个问题能成为安慰的源泉的话，那么这可是一件稀奇的事情，但对卡特尔船长来说似乎倒真是这样的，因为他一次又一次地回到这个问题上。弗洛伦斯无可奈何地放弃了她这顿没有尝过的晚饭，向后仰靠在沙发上，把手伸给他，觉得她使他失望了，虽然她本来倒是真心诚意地想在他忙碌操劳之后让他高兴高兴的；但是他把她的手握在手中（这时他的手颤抖了），似乎完全忘记了晚饭和她缺乏食欲的情况，不时用沉思的、同情的声调低声说道，“可怜的沃尔！是的，是的！淹死了。是不是？”每一次总等待着她的回答，好像他提这个奇怪的问题只是为了得到回答似的。
当船长记起餐桌上还摆着菜，重新去吃时，鸡和香肠已经冷了，肉汁和鸡蛋调味汁已经沉淀了；他请戴奥吉尼斯来帮助，在他们的共同努力下，这顿晚宴很快就被吃完了。弗洛伦斯开始不声不响地帮助收拾桌子，整理客厅，扫除炉灰（她开始帮助时，船长热情地劝阻，只有这种热情才能和她干活时的热情比个不相上下）；船长看到这种情形又喜又惊，最后只好自己完全不做，站在一旁看着她，仿佛她是个什么小仙人，在优美地为他服务似的；他由于难以形容的赞赏，额上的红圈又发出亮光了。
但是当弗洛伦斯把他的烟斗从壁炉架上取下，递到他手里，请他抽烟的时候，善良的船长竟被她的关怀激动得把烟斗一直拿在手里，仿佛他这一辈子从来没有拿过烟斗似的。同样，当弗洛伦斯往小碗柜里看看，取出方瓶，不等他请求，就给他调了一杯很好的搀水烈酒，放到他的身旁的时候，他感到自己受到极大的厚待与尊敬，红润的鼻子竟发白了。当他怡然自得地在烟斗中装上烟草时，弗洛伦斯给他点着了火——船长不能反对或阻止她——，然后又回到沙发上的老位子上去，微笑着看着他；她那微笑非常可爱，充满了感激之情，并向他十分清楚地表明：她那孤独无助的、悲痛的心，就像她的脸一样，完全向着他；船长看到这些情景，感动得烟斗中喷出的烟都呛入了喉咙，使他咳嗽，而且还熏进他的眼睛，使它们眨巴和流泪。
船长想使她相信，造成这些后果的原因隐藏在烟斗本身；他往烟斗里看看，想要找出它；在那里没有找到它的时候，就假装要把它从烟管里吹出来；他的这些神态是极有意思的。烟斗不久就不出毛病了，于是他像一位善于抽烟的人那样，悠闲自得地坐在那里，眼睛凝视着弗洛伦斯，并用一种难以形容的、喜气洋溢而又平平静静的神色，时常停住不抽，而从嘴中喷出一小团烟云，这烟云像一个纸卷似地从他嘴中慢慢舒展开来，上面写着：“可怜的沃尔，是的，是的，他淹死了，是不是？”在这之后，他就以无比文雅的态度继续抽着烟。
虽然他们在外表上十分不相像——弗洛伦斯是一位美丽的妙龄女郎，卡特尔船长则脸上长满了疙瘩，粗糙，身躯魁伟、饱经风霜——，但是就不通人情世故，对世间生活的艰难与危险方面天真无知这一点来说，他们几乎是处于同一水平。除了风与气候之外，对于其他事情，没有一个孩子能比卡特尔船长更缺乏经验的；没有一个孩子在纯朴天真、容易上当、慷慨大方和深信不疑方面能超过他的了。信仰，希望与仁爱构成了他的全部性格。在这之外，还可以加上奇怪的浪漫主义；这种浪漫主义完全是非想象的，然而又完全是非现实的；它不大去考虑世俗的精明打算，也不大考虑是否切实可行。当船长坐在那里，抽着烟，看着弗洛伦斯的时候，天知道在他心头出现了一幅什么样难以相信的、以她为主要人物的图画。她自己对未来生活的想法虽然不是那么乐观，但却同样的模糊与不明确；甚至就像她的眼泪把她所注视的光线折射成各种颜色一样，她通过她的新的、沉重的悲痛，已看到一条彩虹在远方的天空中微弱地照耀着；故事书中一位流浪的公主和一位善良的妖怪可以坐在炉边谈着话，就像卡特尔船长和可怜的弗洛伦斯在想着那样——他们在外表上与他们两人也并不是很不相像的。
船长丝毫没有担心弗洛伦斯留在身边会有什么困难或他将因此而承担什么责任。关上护窗板，锁上门以后，他在这方面就完全无忧无虑。如果她是大法官法庭监护的少女的话，那么对卡特尔船长来说，这也完全没有差别。他是世界上最不为这些考虑担心的人。
因此，船长很愉快地抽着烟，弗洛伦斯和他按照各自的方式沉思着。当烟斗里的烟熄灭以后，他们喝了一些茶；然后弗洛伦斯请求他把她领到邻近的店铺里去买一些她迫切需要的物品。因为天色已经很黑，所以船长就答应了；但是他首先还是小心翼翼地向外面街道上窥探了一下，就像他在躲避麦克斯廷杰太太的时候惯常做的那样，并用大手杖武装了自己，以便在遇到意外情况下必要时可以诉诸武力。
卡特尔船长把手递给弗洛伦斯，护送她走了大约二、三百码，一直机警地注视着四周；他那高度的警惕性与无数提防的措施吸引着每位从他们身旁走过的人的注意；在进行所有这些行动时，他都感到极大的自豪。到达店铺的时候，船长出于审慎的考虑，觉得有必要在她购买物品时离开，因为在这些物品中包括弗洛伦斯穿着的服装；但是他事先把他锡制的茶叶罐放在柜台上，告诉店里年轻的女营业员，罐里有十四镑两先令，如果这些钱还不够支付他的外甥女购置服装的费用的话——当说到外甥女这个词儿的时候，他意味深长地向弗洛伦斯看了一眼，同时默默地做了个机智与神秘的手势——，那就劳驾她向他大声喊叫一声，他将从口袋中拿出钱来补足差额。船长好像是无意地看了看他的大表，其实他真正的目的是想在营业员面前炫耀一下他的财富，使她留下深刻的印象；然后他吻了吻他的钩子，向他的外甥女致意；并走到橱窗外面；他那很大的脸孔不时探进店里，出现在丝绸与缎带中间，显然是因为担心弗洛伦斯会被人从后门拐走，他这种进进出出的美妙图景确实是很值得一看的。
“亲爱的卡特尔船长，”弗洛伦斯拿着一个小包包从店里走出来的时候说道。这包包的体积使船长大为失望，因为他原希望看到一个搬运工人扛着一捆货物跟随在她后面的。“我确实不需要这钱。我一个钱也没有花。我自己有钱。”
“我的小姑娘夫人，”失望的船长笔直望着前面的街道，回答道，“我是不是可以烦请您给我小心保管着，直到我问您要它的时候？”
“我可以把它放回到原先的地方，并把它保存在那里吗？”
弗洛伦斯问道。
这个建议一点也不使船长高兴，但是他还是回答道，“行，行，把它放到哪里都行，我的小姑娘夫人，只要您知道到哪里找到它就好了。它对我完全没有用，”船长说道。“真奇怪，我以前怎么没有把它花掉呢。”
船长一时很不开心，但一接触到弗洛伦斯的胳膊，他的精神又复苏了。他们像出来的时候一样谨慎小心地回到家里；船长打开小海军军官候补生的住所的门，迅速地钻了进去，只有长期的实践才能使他那么敏捷。弗洛伦斯上午睡觉的时候，他已雇了一位姑娘来给弗洛伦斯收拾房间，并帮助她做一些她所需要做的零星杂事；这位姑娘是平时在伦敦肉类市场坐在一把蓝伞下面卖家禽的一位老太太的女儿，现在她已来了。弗洛伦斯看到她周围的一切就像在她曾一度称为家的可怕的梦中一样舒适、整齐，如果说不是那么漂亮的话。
当又只剩下他们两人的时候，船长坚决请她吃一片干烤面包片，喝一杯加了香料的尼格斯酒（他做得好极了），并用各种亲切的话语和他能想得出来的一些前后互不连贯的引语来鼓励她，然后把她领到楼上的卧室中去。但是他也还是有些什么事情在心头，神态不大自在。
“晚安，亲爱的心肝，”卡特尔船长在她的卧室门口说道。
弗洛伦斯把嘴唇凑近他的脸，吻了他。
在任何别的时候，她这种亲热与感激的表示都是会使船长激动得站不正身子、歪倒下来的，但是现在他虽然完全感觉到这一点，但却比先前更加不安地注视着她的脸孔，似乎不愿意离开她一样。
“可怜的沃尔！”船长说道。
“可怜的、可怜的沃尔特！”弗洛伦斯叹息道。
“淹死了，是不是？”船长说道。
弗洛伦斯点点头，叹了一口气。
“晚安，我的小姑娘夫人！”卡特尔船长伸出手来说道。
“上帝保佑您，亲爱的、仁慈的朋友！”
但是船长仍旧拖延着不走。
“有什么事吗，亲爱的卡特尔船长？”弗洛伦斯问道，她当时的心情是容易感到惊慌的。“您有什么事情要告诉我吗？”
“有什么事情要告诉您吗，小姑娘夫人，”船长回答道，他慌乱地碰到了她的眼光。“没有，没有；我有什么事情应当告诉您的呢，宝贝！当然，您没有指望我会告诉您什么好事情吧？”
“没有，”弗洛伦斯摇摇头，说道。
船长沉思地望着她，重复道，“没有，”仍旧在门口拖延着不走，而且仍旧表现出为难的样子。
“可怜的沃尔！”船长说道。“我的沃尔，我过去经常这样喊你的！老所尔•吉尔斯的外甥！你就像五月的鲜花一样，所有认识你的人都喜欢你！你现在在哪里呀，勇敢的孩子！淹死了，是不是？”船长在末尾向弗洛伦斯突然问了一句之后，向她祝了晚安，就下楼去了；弗洛伦斯站在楼梯口，拿着蜡烛照他。
他在黑暗中消失了；从他离开的脚步声来判断，他正走到小客厅里去，这时他的头和肩膀又出乎意料之外地好像从深渊中浮现了出来，显然，他唯一的目的是再重复问一句：“他淹死了，是不是，宝贝？”因为他用温柔的、怜悯的语调说完这些话之后，就不见了。弗洛伦斯很遗憾，她在这里避难，无意中在她的保护人的心中唤醒了这些联带的回忆（尽管这是十分自然的），她坐在船长在上面摆着望远镜、歌曲集和其他珍藏物品的小桌子前面，回想着沃尔特和过去跟他有关的一切，直到她非常想躺到床上，沉沉地睡去为止。可是当她孤独地怀念着她曾爱过的那些死者时，在她的脑子中一次也没有闪现过家的念头，一次也没有想过可能回去，一次也没有想过它还依旧存在，或她的父亲还继续住在它的屋顶下面。她看到他那次殴打她的情景。她过去不论发生各种事情仍然珍惜着的父亲的那最后未灭的形象，已从她心中被夺走了，损伤了，毁灭了。一想到它，对她来说是那么可怕，因此她捂上眼睛，哆嗦地避开对那个行动和干出那个行动的那只残酷的手的一星半点的回忆。如果在这之后，她那可爱的心还能保存他的形象的话，那么它一定破碎了；但是它不能；这
Chapter 50
 Mr Toots's Complaint
There was an empty room above-stairs at the wooden Midshipman's, which, in days of yore, had been Walter's bedroom. Walter, rousing up the Captain betimes in the morning, proposed that they should carry thither such furniture out of the little parlour as would grace it best, so that Florence might take possession of it when she rose. As nothing could be more agreeable to Captain Cuttle than making himself very red and short of breath in such a cause, he turned to (as he himself said) with a will; and, in a couple of hours, this garret was transformed into a species of land-cabin, adorned with all the choicest moveables out of the parlour, inclusive even of the Tartar frigate, which the Captain hung up over the chimney-piece with such extreme delight, that he could do nothing for half-an-hour afterwards but walk backward from it, lost in admiration.
The Captain could be indueed by no persuasion of Walter's to wind up the big watch, or to take back the canister, or to touch the sugar-tongs and teaspoons. 'No, no, my lad;' was the Captain's invariable reply to any solicitation of the kind, 'I've made that there little property over, jintly.' These words he repeated with great unction and gravity, evidently believing that they had the virtue of an Act of Parliament, and that unless he committed himself by some new admission of ownership, no flaw could be found in such a form of conveyance.
It was an advantage of the new arrangement, that besides the greater seclusion it afforded Florence, it admitted of the Midshipman being restored to his usual post of observation, and also of the shop shutters being taken down. The latter ceremony, however little importance the unconscious Captain attached to it, was not wholly superfluous; for, on the previous day, so much excitement had been occasioned in the neighbourhood, by the shutters remaining unopened, that the Instrument-maker's house had been honoured with an unusual share of public observation, and had been intently stared at from the opposite side of the way, by groups of hungry gazers, at any time between sunrise and sunset. The idlers and vagabonds had been particularly interested in the Captain's fate; constantly grovelling in the mud to apply their eyes to the cellar-grating, under the shop-window, and delighting their imaginations with the fancy that they could see a piece of his coat as he hung in a corner; though this settlement of him was stoutly disputed by an opposite faction, who were of opinion that he lay murdered with a hammer, on the stairs. It was not without exciting some discontent, therefore, that the subject of these rumours was seen early in the morning standing at his shop-door as hale and hearty as if nothing had happened; and the beadle of that quarter, a man of an ambitious character, who had expected to have the distinction of being present at the breaking open of the door, and of giving evidence in full uniform before the coroner, went so far as to say to an opposite neighbour, that the chap in the glazed hat had better not try it on there - without more particularly mentioning what - and further, that he, the beadle, would keep his eye upon him.
'Captain Cuttle,' said Walter, musing, when they stood resting from their labours at the shop-door, looking down the old familiar street; it being still early in the morning; 'nothing at all of Uncle Sol, in all that time!'
'Nothing at all, my lad,' replied the Captain, shaking his head.
'Gone in search of me, dear, kind old man,' said Walter: 'yet never write to you! But why not? He says, in effect, in this packet that you gave me,' taking the paper from his pocket, which had been opened in the presence of the enlightened Bunsby, 'that if you never hear from him before opening it, you may believe him dead. Heaven forbid! But you would have heard of him, even if he were dead! Someone would have written, surely, by his desire, if he could not; and have said, "on such a day, there died in my house," or "under my care," or so forth, "Mr Solomon Gills of London, who left this last remembrance and this last request to you".'
The Captain, who had never climbed to such a clear height of probability before, was greatly impressed by the wide prospect it opened, and answered, with a thoughtful shake of his head, 'Well said, my lad; wery well said.'
'I have been thinking of this, or, at least,' said Walter, colouring, 'I have been thinking of one thing and another, all through a sleepless night, and I cannot believe, Captain Cuttle, but that my Uncle Sol (Lord bless him!) is alive, and will return. I don't so much wonder at his going away, because, leaving out of consideration that spice of the marvellous which was always in his character, and his great affection for me, before which every other consideration of his life became nothing, as no one ought to know so well as I who had the best of fathers in him,' - Walter's voice was indistinct and husky here, and he looked away, along the street, - 'leaving that out of consideration, I say, I have often read and heard of people who, having some near and dear relative, who was supposed to be shipwrecked at sea, have gone down to live on that part of the sea-shore where any tidings of the missing ship might be expected to arrive, though only an hour or two sooner than elsewhere, or have even gone upon her track to the place whither she was bound, as if their going would create intelligence. I think I should do such a thing myself, as soon as another, or sooner than many, perhaps. But why my Uncle shouldn't write to you, when he so clearly intended to do so, or how he should die abroad, and you not know it through some other hand, I cannot make out.'
Captain Cuttle observed, with a shake of his head, that Jack Bunsby himself hadn't made it out, and that he was a man as could give a pretty taut opinion too.
'If my Uncle had been a heedless young man, likely to be entrapped by jovial company to some drinking-place, where he was to be got rid of for the sake of what money he might have about him,' said Walter; 'or if he had been a reckless sailor, going ashore with two or three months' pay in his pocket, I could understand his disappearing, and leaving no trace behind. But, being what he was - and is, I hope - I can't believe it.'
'Wal'r, my lad,' inquired the Captain, wistfully eyeing him as he pondered and pondered, 'what do you make of it, then?'
'Captain Cuttle,' returned Walter, 'I don't know what to make of it. I suppose he never has written! There is no doubt about that?'
'If so be as Sol Gills wrote, my lad,' replied the Captain, argumentatively, 'where's his dispatch?'
'Say that he entrusted it to some private hand,' suggested Walter, 'and that it has been forgotten, or carelessly thrown aside, or lost. Even that is more probable to me, than the other event. In short, I not only cannot bear to contemplate that other event, Captain Cuttle, but I can't, and won't.'
'Hope, you see, Wal'r,' said the Captain, sagely, 'Hope. It's that as animates you. Hope is a buoy, for which you overhaul your Little Warbler, sentimental diwision, but Lord, my lad, like any other buoy, it only floats; it can't be steered nowhere. Along with the figure-head of Hope,' said the Captain, 'there's a anchor; but what's the good of my having a anchor, if I can't find no bottom to let it go in?'
Captain Cuttle said this rather in his character of a sagacious citizen and householder, bound to impart a morsel from his stores of wisdom to an inexperienced youth, than in his own proper person. Indeed, his face was quite luminous as he spoke, with new hope, caught from Walter; and he appropriately concluded by slapping him on the back; and saying, with enthusiasm, 'Hooroar, my lad! Indiwidually, I'm o' your opinion.' Walter, with his cheerful laugh, returned the salutation, and said:
'Only one word more about my Uncle at present' Captain Cuttle. I suppose it is impossible that he can have written in the ordinary course - by mail packet, or ship letter, you understand - '
'Ay, ay, my lad,' said the Captain approvingly.
And that you have missed the letter, anyhow?'
'Why, Wal'r,' said the Captain, turning his eyes upon him with a faint approach to a severe expression, 'ain't I been on the look-out for any tidings of that man o' science, old Sol Gills, your Uncle, day and night, ever since I lost him? Ain't my heart been heavy and watchful always, along of him and you? Sleeping and waking, ain't I been upon my post, and wouldn't I scorn to quit it while this here Midshipman held together!'
'Yes, Captain Cuttle,' replied Walter, grasping his hand, 'I know you would, and I know how faithful and earnest all you say and feel is. I am sure of it. You don't doubt that I am as sure of it as I am that my foot is again upon this door-step, or that I again have hold of this true hand. Do you?'
'No, no, Wal'r,' returned the Captain, with his beaming
'I'll hazard no more conjectures,' said Walter, fervently shaking the hard hand of the Captain, who shook his with no less goodwill. 'All I will add is, Heaven forbid that I should touch my Uncle's possessions, Captain Cuttle! Everything that he left here, shall remain in the care of the truest of stewards and kindest of men - and if his name is not Cuttle, he has no name! Now, best of friends, about - Miss Dombey.'
There was a change in Walter's manner, as he came to these two words; and when he uttered them, all his confidence and cheerfulness appeared to have deserted him.
'I thought, before Miss Dombey stopped me when I spoke of her father last night,' said Walter, ' - you remember how?'
The Captain well remembered, and shook his head.
'I thought,' said Walter, 'before that, that we had but one hard duty to perform, and that it was, to prevail upon her to communicate with her friends, and to return home.'
The Captain muttered a feeble 'Awast!' or a 'Stand by!' or something or other, equally pertinent to the occasion; but it was rendered so extremely feeble by the total discomfiture with which he received this announcement, that what it was, is mere matter of conjecture.
'But,' said Walter, 'that is over. I think so, no longer. I would sooner be put back again upon that piece of wreck, on which I have so often floated, since my preservation, in my dreams, and there left to drift, and drive, and die!'
'Hooroar, my lad!' exclaimed the Captain, in a burst of uncontrollable satisfaction. 'Hooroar! hooroar! hooroar!'
'To think that she, so young, so good, and beautiful,' said Walter, 'so delicately brought up, and born to such a different fortune, should strive with the rough world! But we have seen the gulf that cuts off all behind her, though no one but herself can know how deep it is; and there is no return.
Captain Cuttle, without quite understanding this, greatly approved of it, and observed in a tone of strong corroboration, that the wind was quite abaft.
'She ought not to be alone here; ought she, Captain Cuttle?' said Walter, anxiously.
'Well, my lad,' replied the Captain, after a little sagacious consideration. 'I don't know. You being here to keep her company, you see, and you two being jintly - '
'Dear Captain Cuttle!' remonstrated Walter. 'I being here! Miss Dombey, in her guileless innocent heart, regards me as her adopted brother; but what would the guile and guilt of my heart be, if I pretended to believe that I had any right to approach her, familiarly, in that character - if I pretended to forget that I am bound, in honour, not to do it?'
'Wal'r, my lad,' hinted the Captain, with some revival of his discomfiture, 'ain't there no other character as - '
'Oh!' returned Walter, 'would you have me die in her esteem - in such esteem as hers - and put a veil between myself and her angel's face for ever, by taking advantage of her being here for refuge, so trusting and so unprotected, to endeavour to exalt myself into her lover? What do I say? There is no one in the world who would be more opposed to me if I could do so, than you.'
'Wal'r, my lad,' said the Captain, drooping more and more, 'prowiding as there is any just cause or impediment why two persons should not be jined together in the house of bondage, for which you'll overhaul the place and make a note, I hope I should declare it as promised and wowed in the banns. So there ain't no other character; ain't there, my lad?'
Walter briskly waved his hand in the negative.
'Well, my lad,' growled the Captain slowly, 'I won't deny but what I find myself wery much down by the head, along o' this here, or but what I've gone clean about. But as to Lady lass, Wal'r, mind you, wot's respect and duty to her, is respect and duty in my articles, howsumever disapinting; and therefore I follows in your wake, my lad, and feel as you are, no doubt, acting up to yourself. And there ain't no other character, ain't there?' said the Captain, musing over the ruins of his fallen castle, with a very despondent face.
'Now, Captain Cuttle,' said Walter, starting a fresh point with a gayer air, to cheer the Captain up - but nothing could do that; he was too much concerned - 'I think we should exert ourselves to find someone who would be a proper attendant for Miss Dombey while she remains here, and who may be trusted. None of her relations may. It's clear Miss Dombey feels that they are all subservient to her father. What has become of Susan?'
'The young woman?' returned the Captain. 'It's my belief as she was sent away again the will of Heart's Delight. I made a signal for her when Lady lass first come, and she rated of her wery high, and said she had been gone a long time.'
'Then,' said Walter, 'do you ask Miss Dombey where she's gone, and we'll try to find her. The morning's getting on, and Miss Dombey will soon be rising. You are her best friend. Wait for her upstairs, and leave me to take care of all down here.'
The Captain, very crest-fallen indeed, echoed the sigh with which Walter said this, and complied. Florence was delighted with her new room, anxious to see Walter, and overjoyed at the prospect of greeting her old friend Susan. But Florence could not say where Susan was gone, except that it was in Essex, and no one could say, she remembered, unless it were Mr Toots.
With this information the melancholy Captain returned to Walter, and gave him to understand that Mr Toots was the young gentleman whom he had encountered on the door-step, and that he was a friend of his, and that he was a young gentleman of property, and that he hopelessly adored Miss Dombey. The Captain also related how the intelligence of Walter's supposed fate had first made him acquainted with Mr Toots, and how there was solemn treaty and compact between them, that Mr Toots should be mute upon the subject of his love.
The question then was, whether Florence could trust Mr Toots; and Florence saying, with a smile, 'Oh, yes, with her whole heart!' it became important to find out where Mr Toots lived. This, Florence didn't know, and the Captain had forgotten; and the Captain was telling Walter, in the little parlour, that Mr Toots was sure to be there soon, when in came Mr Toots himself.
'Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, rushing into the parlour without any ceremony, 'I'm in a state of mind bordering on distraction!'
Mr Toots had discharged those words, as from a mortar, before he observed Walter, whom he recognised with what may be described as a chuckle of misery.
'You'll excuse me, Sir,' said Mr Toots, holding his forehead, 'but I'm at present in that state that my brain is going, if not gone, and anything approaching to politeness in an individual so situated would be a hollow mockery. Captain Gills, I beg to request the favour of a private interview.'
'Why, Brother,' returned the Captain, taking him by the hand, 'you are the man as we was on the look-out for.'
'Oh, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, 'what a look-out that must be, of which I am the object! I haven't dared to shave, I'm in that rash state. I haven't had my clothes brushed. My hair is matted together. I told the Chicken that if he offered to clean my boots, I'd stretch him a Corpse before me!'
All these indications of a disordered mind were verified in Mr Toots's appearance, which was wild and savage.
'See here, Brother,' said the Captain. 'This here's old Sol Gills's nevy Wal'r. Him as was supposed to have perished at sea'
Mr Toots took his hand from his forehead, and stared at Walter.
'Good gracious me!' stammered Mr Toots. 'What a complication of misery! How-de-do? I - I - I'm afraid you must have got very wet. Captain Gills, will you allow me a word in the shop?'
He took the Captain by the coat, and going out with him whispered:
'That then, Captain Gills, is the party you spoke of, when you said that he and Miss Dombey were made for one another?'
'Why, ay, my lad,' replied the disconsolate Captain; 'I was of that mind once.'
'And at this time!' exclaimed Mr Toots, with his hand to his forehead again. 'Of all others! - a hated rival! At least, he ain't a hated rival,' said Mr Toots, stopping short, on second thoughts, and taking away his hand; 'what should I hate him for? No. If my affection has been truly disinterested, Captain Gills, let me prove it now!'
Mr Toots shot back abruptly into the parlour, and said, wringing Walter by the hand:
'How-de-do? I hope you didn't take any cold. I - I shall be very glad if you'll give me the pleasure of your acquaintance. I wish you many happy returns of the day. Upon my word and honour,' said Mr Toots, warming as he became better acquainted with Walter's face and figure, 'I'm very glad to see you!'
'Thank you, heartily,' said Walter. 'I couldn't desire a more genuine and genial welcome.'
'Couldn't you, though?' said Mr Toots, still shaking his hand. 'It's very kind of you. I'm much obliged to you. How-de-do? I hope you left everybody quite well over the - that is, upon the - I mean wherever you came from last, you know.'
All these good wishes, and better intentions, Walter responded to manfully.
'Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, 'I should wish to be strictly honourable; but I trust I may be allowed now, to allude to a certain subject that - '
'Ay, ay, my lad,' returned the Captain. 'Freely, freely.'
'Then, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, 'and Lieutenant Walters - are you aware that the most dreadful circumstances have been happening at Mr Dombey's house, and that Miss Dombey herself has left her father, who, in my opinion,' said Mr Toots, with great excitement, 'is a Brute, that it would be a flattery to call a - a marble monument, or a bird of prey, - and that she is not to be found, and has gone no one knows where?'
'May I ask how you heard this?' inquired Walter.
'Lieutenant Walters,' said Mr Toots, who had arrived at that appellation by a process peculiar to himself; probably by jumbling up his Christian name with the seafaring profession, and supposing some relationship between him and the Captain, which would extend, as a matter of course, to their titles; 'Lieutenant Walters, I can have no objection to make a straightforward reply. The fact is, that feeling extremely interested in everything that relates to Miss Dombey - not for any selfish reason, Lieutenant Walters, for I am well aware that the most able thing I could do for all parties would be to put an end to my existence, which can only be regarded as an inconvenience - I have been in the habit of bestowing a trifle now and then upon a footman; a most respectable young man, of the name of Towlinson, who has lived in the family some time; and Towlinson informed me, yesterday evening, that this was the state of things. Since which, Captain Gills - and Lieutenant Walters - I have been perfectly frantic, and have been lying down on the sofa all night, the Ruin you behold.'
'Mr Toots,' said Walter, 'I am happy to be able to relieve your mind. Pray calm yourself. Miss Dombey is safe and well.'
'Sir!' cried Mr Toots, starting from his chair and shaking hands with him anew, 'the relief is so excessive, and unspeakable, that if you were to tell me now that Miss Dombey was married even, I could smile. Yes, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, appealing to him, 'upon my soul and body, I really think, whatever I might do to myself immediately afterwards, that I could smile, I am so relieved.'
'It will be a greater relief and delight still, to such a generous mind as yours,' said Walter, not at all slow in returning his greeting, 'to find that you can render service to Miss Dombey. Captain Cuttle, will you have the kindness to take Mr Toots upstairs?'
The Captain beckoned to Mr Toots, who followed him with a bewildered countenance, and, ascending to the top of the house, was introduced, without a word of preparation from his conductor, into Florence's new retreat.
Poor Mr Toots's amazement and pleasure at sight of her were such, that they could find a vent in nothing but extravagance. He ran up to her, seized her hand, kissed it, dropped it, seized it again, fell upon one knee, shed tears, chuckled, and was quite regardless of his danger of being pinned by Diogenes, who, inspired by the belief that there was something hostile to his mistress in these demonstrations, worked round and round him, as if only undecided at what particular point to go in for the assault, but quite resolved to do him a fearful mischief.
'Oh Di, you bad, forgetful dog! Dear Mr Toots, I am so rejoiced to see you!'
'Thankee,' said Mr Toots, 'I am pretty well, I'm much obliged to you, Miss Dombey. I hope all the family are the same.'
Mr Toots said this without the least notion of what he was talking about, and sat down on a chair, staring at Florence with the liveliest contention of delight and despair going on in his face that any face could exhibit.
'Captain Gills and Lieutenant Walters have mentioned, Miss Dombey,' gasped Mr Toots, 'that I can do you some service. If I could by any means wash out the remembrance of that day at Brighton, when I conducted myself - much more like a Parricide than a person of independent property,' said Mr Toots, with severe self-accusation, 'I should sink into the silent tomb with a gleam of joy.'
'Pray, Mr Toots,' said Florence, 'do not wish me to forget anything in our acquaintance. I never can, believe me. You have been far too kind and good to me always.'
'Miss Dombey,' returned Mr Toots, 'your consideration for my feelings is a part of your angelic character. Thank you a thousand times. It's of no consequence at all.'
'What we thought of asking you,' said Florence, 'is, whether you remember where Susan, whom you were so kind as to accompany to the coach-office when she left me, is to be found.'
'Why I do not certainly, Miss Dombey,' said Mr Toots, after a little consideration, 'remember the exact name of the place that was on the coach; and I do recollect that she said she was not going to stop there, but was going farther on. But, Miss Dombey, if your object is to find her, and to have her here, myself and the Chicken will produce her with every dispatch that devotion on my part, and great intelligence on the Chicken's, can ensure.
Mr Toots was so manifestly delighted and revived by the prospect of being useful, and the disinterested sincerity of his devotion was so unquestionable, that it would have been cruel to refuse him. Florence, with an instinctive delicacy, forbore to urge the least obstacle, though she did not forbear to overpower him with thanks; and Mr Toots proudly took the commission upon himself for immediate execution.
'Miss Dombey,' said Mr Toots, touching her proffered hand, with a pang of hopeless love visibly shooting through him, and flashing out in his face, 'Good-bye! Allow me to take the liberty of saying, that your misfortunes make me perfectly wretched, and that you may trust me, next to Captain Gills himself. I am quite aware, Miss Dombey, of my own deficiencies - they're not of the least consequence, thank you - but I am entirely to be relied upon, I do assure you, Miss Dombey.'
With that Mr Toots came out of the room, again accompanied by the Captain, who, standing at a little distance, holding his hat under his arm and arranging his scattered locks with his hook, had been a not uninterested witness of what passed. And when the door closed behind them, the light of Mr Toots's life was darkly clouded again.
'Captain Gills,' said that gentleman, stopping near the bottom of the stairs, and turning round, 'to tell you the truth, I am not in a frame of mind at the present moment, in which I could see Lieutenant Walters with that entirely friendly feeling towards him that I should wish to harbour in my breast. We cannot always command our feelings, Captain Gills, and I should take it as a particular favour if you'd let me out at the private door.'
'Brother,' returned the Captain, 'you shall shape your own course. Wotever course you take, is plain and seamanlike, I'm wery sure.
'Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, 'you're extremely kind. Your good opinion is a consolation to me. There is one thing,' said Mr Toots, standing in the passage, behind the half-opened door, 'that I hope you'll bear in mind, Captain Gills, and that I should wish Lieutenant Walters to be made acquainted with. I have quite come into my property now, you know, and - and I don't know what to do with it. If I could be at all useful in a pecuniary point of view, I should glide into the silent tomb with ease and smoothness.'
Mr Toots said no more, but slipped out quietly and shut the door upon himself, to cut the Captain off from any reply.
Florence thought of this good creature, long after he had left her, with mingled emotions of pain and pleasure. He was so honest and warm-hearted, that to see him again and be assured of his truth to her in her distress, was a joy and comfort beyond all price; but for that very reason, it was so affecting to think that she caused him a moment's unhappiness, or ruffled, by a breath, the harmless current of his life, that her eyes filled with tears, and her bosom overflowed with pity. Captain Cuttle, in his different way, thought much of Mr Toots too; and so did Walter; and when the evening came, and they were all sitting together in Florence's new room, Walter praised him in a most impassioned manner, and told Florence what he had said on leaving the house, with every graceful setting-off in the way of comment and appreciation that his own honesty and sympathy could surround it with.
Mr Toots did not return upon the next day, or the next, or for several days; and in the meanwhile Florence, without any new alarm, lived like a quiet bird in a cage, at the top of the old Instrument-maker's house. But Florence drooped and hung her head more and more plainly, as the days went on; and the expression that had been seen in the face of the dead child, was often turned to the sky from her high window, as if it sought his angel out, on the bright shore of which he had spoken: lying on his little bed.
Florence had been weak and delicate of late, and the agitation she had undergone was not without its influences on her health. But it was no bodily illness that affected her now. She was distressed in mind; and the cause of her distress was Walter.
Interested in her, anxious for her, proud and glad to serve her, and showing all this with the enthusiasm and ardour of his character, Florence saw that he avoided her. All the long day through, he seldom approached her room. If she asked for him, he came, again for the moment as earnest and as bright as she remembered him when she was a lost child in the staring streets; but he soon became constrained - her quick affection was too watchful not to know it - and uneasy, and soon left her. Unsought, he never came, all day, between the morning and the night. When the evening closed in, he was always there, and that was her happiest time, for then she half believed that the old Walter of her childhood was not changed. But, even then, some trivial word, look, or circumstance would show her that there was an indefinable division between them which could not be passed.
And she could not but see that these revealings of a great alteration in Walter manifested themselves in despite of his utmost efforts to hide them. In his consideration for her, she thought, and in the earnestness of his desire to spare her any wound from his kind hand, he resorted to innumerable little artifices and disguises. So much the more did Florence feel the greatness of the alteration in him; so much the oftener did she weep at this estrangement of her brother.
The good Captain - her untiring, tender, ever zealous friend - saw it, too, Florence thought, and it pained him. He was less cheerful and hopeful than he had been at first, and would steal looks at her and Walter, by turns, when they were all three together of an evening, with quite a sad face.
Florence resolved, at last, to speak to Walter. She believed she knew now what the cause of his estrangement was, and she thought it would be a relief to her full heart, and would set him more at ease, if she told him she had found it out, and quite submitted to it, and did not reproach him.
It was on a certain Sunday afternoon, that Florence took this resolution. The faithful Captain, in an amazing shirt-collar, was sitting by her, reading with his spectacles on, and she asked him where Walter was.
'I think he's down below, my lady lass,' returned the Captain.
'I should like to speak to him,' said Florence, rising hurriedly as if to go downstairs.
'I'll rouse him up here, Beauty,' said the Captain, 'in a trice.'
Thereupon the Captain, with much alacrity, shouldered his book - for he made it a point of duty to read none but very large books on a Sunday, as having a more staid appearance: and had bargained, years ago, for a prodigious volume at a book-stall, five lines of which utterly confounded him at any time, insomuch that he had not yet ascertained of what subject it treated - and withdrew. Walter soon appeared.
'Captain Cuttle tells me, Miss Dombey,' he eagerly began on coming in - but stopped when he saw her face.
'You are not so well to-day. You look distressed. You have been weeping.'
He spoke so kindly, and with such a fervent tremor in his voice, that the tears gushed into her eyes at the sound of his words.
'Walter,' said Florence, gently, 'I am not quite well, and I have been weeping. I want to speak to you.'
He sat down opposite to her, looking at her beautiful and innocent face; and his own turned pale, and his lips trembled.
'You said, upon the night when I knew that you were saved - and oh! dear Walter, what I felt that night, and what I hoped!' - '
He put his trembling hand upon the table between them, and sat looking at her.
- 'that I was changed. I was surprised to hear you say so, but I understand, now, that I am. Don't be angry with me, Walter. I was too much overjoyed to think of it, then.'
She seemed a child to him again. It was the ingenuous, confiding, loving child he saw and heard. Not the dear woman, at whose feet he would have laid the riches of the earth.
'You remember the last time I saw you, Walter, before you went away?'
He put his hand into his breast, and took out a little purse.
'I have always worn it round my neck! If I had gone down in the deep, it would have been with me at the bottom of the sea.'
'And you will wear it still, Walter, for my old sake?'
'Until I die!'
She laid her hand on his, as fearlessly and simply, as if not a day had intervened since she gave him the little token of remembrance.
'I am glad of that. I shall be always glad to think so, Walter. Do you recollect that a thought of this change seemed to come into our minds at the same time that evening, when we were talking together?'
'No!' he answered, in a wondering tone.
'Yes, Walter. I had been the means of injuring your hopes and prospects even then. I feared to think so, then, but I know it now. If you were able, then, in your generosity, to hide from me that you knew it too, you cannot do so now, although you try as generously as before. You do. I thank you for it, Walter, deeply, truly; but you cannot succeed. You have suffered too much in your own hardships, and in those of your dearest relation, quite to overlook the innocent cause of all the peril and affliction that has befallen you. You cannot quite forget me in that character, and we can be brother and sister no longer. But, dear Walter, do not think that I complain of you in this. I might have known it - ought to have known it - but forgot it in my joy. All I hope is that you may think of me less irksomely when this feeling is no more a secret one; and all I ask is, Walter, in the name of the poor child who was your sister once, that you will not struggle with yourself, and pain yourself, for my sake, now that I know all!'
Walter had looked upon her while she said this, with a face so full of wonder and amazement, that it had room for nothing else. Now he caught up the hand that touched his, so entreatingly, and held it between his own.
'Oh, Miss Dombey,' he said, 'is it possible that while I have been suffering so much, in striving with my sense of what is due to you, and must be rendered to you, I have made you suffer what your words disclose to me? Never, never, before Heaven, have I thought of you but as the single, bright, pure, blessed recollection of my boyhood and my youth. Never have I from the first, and never shall I to the last, regard your part in my life, but as something sacred, never to be lightly thought of, never to be esteemed enough, never, until death, to be forgotten. Again to see you look, and hear you speak, as you did on that night when we parted, is happiness to me that there are no words to utter; and to be loved and trusted as your brother, is the next gift I could receive and prize!'
'Walter,' said Florence, looking at him earnestly, but with a changing face, 'what is that which is due to me, and must be rendered to me, at the sacrifice of all this?'
'Respect,' said Walter, in a low tone. 'Reverence.
The colour dawned in her face, and she timidly and thoughtfully withdrew her hand; still looking at him with unabated earnestness.
'I have not a brother's right,' said Walter. 'I have not a brother's claim. I left a child. I find a woman.'
The colour overspread her face. She made a gesture as if of entreaty that he would say no more, and her face dropped upon her hands.
They were both silent for a time; she weeping.
'I owe it to a heart so trusting, pure, and good,' said Walter, 'even to tear myself from it, though I rend my own. How dare I say it is my sister's!'
She was weeping still.
'If you had been happy; surrounded as you should be by loving and admiring friends, and by all that makes the station you were born to enviable,' said Walter; 'and if you had called me brother, then, in your affectionate remembrance of the past, I could have answered to the name from my distant place, with no inward assurance that I wronged your spotless truth by doing so. But here - and now!'
'Oh thank you, thank you, Walter! Forgive my having wronged you so much. I had no one to advise me. I am quite alone.'
'Florence!' said Walter, passionately. 'I am hurried on to say, what I thought, but a few moments ago, nothing could have forced from my lips. If I had been prosperous; if I had any means or hope of being one day able to restore you to a station near your own; I would have told you that there was one name you might bestow upon - me - a right above all others, to protect and cherish you - that I was worthy of in nothing but the love and honour that I bore you, and in my whole heart being yours. I would have told you that it was the only claim that you could give me to defend and guard you, which I dare accept and dare assert; but that if I had that right, I would regard it as a trust so precious and so priceless, that the undivided truth and fervour of my life would poorly acknowledge its worth.'
The head was still bent down, the tears still falling, and the bosom swelling with its sobs.
'Dear Florence! Dearest Florence! whom I called so in my thoughts before I could consider how presumptuous and wild it was. One last time let me call you by your own dear name, and touch this gentle hand in token of your sisterly forgetfulness of what I have said.'
She raised her head, and spoke to him with such a solemn sweetness in her eyes; with such a calm, bright, placid smile shining on him through her tears; with such a low, soft tremble in her frame and voice; that the innermost chords of his heart were touched, and his sight was dim as he listened.
'No, Walter, I cannot forget it. I would not forget it, for the world. Are you - are you very poor?'
'I am but a wanderer,' said Walter, 'making voyages to live, across the sea. That is my calling now.
'Are you soon going away again, Walter?'
'Very soon.
She sat looking at him for a moment; then timidly put her trembling hand in his.
'If you will take me for your wife, Walter, I will love you dearly. If you will let me go with you, Walter, I will go to the world's end without fear. I can give up nothing for you - I have nothing to resign, and no one to forsake; but all my love and life shall be devoted to you, and with my last breath I will breathe your name to God if I have sense and memory left.'
He caught her to his heart, and laid her cheek against his own, and now, no more repulsed, no more forlorn, she wept indeed, upon the breast of her dear lover.
Blessed Sunday Bells, ringing so tranquilly in their entranced and happy ears! Blessed Sunday peace and quiet, harmonising with the calmness in their souls, and making holy air around them! Blessed twilight stealing on, and shading her so soothingly and gravely, as she falls asleep, like a hushed child, upon the bosom she has clung to!
Oh load of love and trustfulness that lies to lightly there! Ay, look down on the closed eyes, Walter, with a proudly tender gaze; for in all the wide wide world they seek but thee now - only thee!
The Captain remained in the little parlour until it was quite dark. He took the chair on which Walter had been sitting, and looked up at the skylight, until the day, by little and little, faded away, and the stars peeped down. He lighted a candle, lighted a pipe, smoked it out, and wondered what on earth was going on upstairs, and why they didn't call him to tea.
Florence came to his side while he was in the height of his wonderment.
'Ay! lady lass!' cried the Captain. 'Why, you and Wal'r have had a long spell o' talk, my beauty.'
Florence put her little hand round one of the great buttons of his coat, and said, looking down into his face:
'Dear Captain, I want to tell you something, if you please.
The Captain raised his head pretty smartly, to hear what it was. Catching by this means a more distinct view of Florence, he pushed back his chair, and himself with it, as far as they could go.
'What! Heart's Delight!' cried the Captain, suddenly elated, 'Is it that?'
'Yes!' said Florence, eagerly.
'Wal'r! Husband! THAT?' roared the Captain, tossing up his glazed hat into the skylight.
'Yes!' cried Florence, laughing and crying together.
The Captain immediately hugged her; and then, picking up the glazed hat and putting it on, drew her arm through his, and conducted her upstairs again; where he felt that the great joke of his life was now to be made.
'What, Wal'r my lad!' said the Captain, looking in at the door, with his face like an amiable warming-pan. 'So there ain't NO other character, ain't there?'
He had like to have suffocated himself with this pleasantry, which he repeated at least forty times during tea; polishing his radiant face with the sleeve of his coat, and dabbing his head all over with his pocket-handkerchief, in the intervals. But he was not without a graver source of enjoyment to fall back upon, when so disposed, for he was repeatedly heard to say in an undertone, as he looked with ineffable delight at Walter and Florence:
'Ed'ard Cuttle, my lad, you never shaped a better course in your life, than when you made that there little property over, jintly!'
在木制海军军官候补生家中的顶楼里有一个空房间，过去是沃尔特的卧室。沃尔特一清早唤醒船长之后，建议把最好的家具从小客厅搬到那里去，把房间装饰得尽量漂亮一些，使弗洛伦斯起床以后就可以搬进去住。卡特尔船长搬得脸孔通红，气喘吁吁，但他觉得没有什么比这更使他愉快的了；用他自己的话来说，他是心甘情愿这样做的；两三个小时以后，这个顶楼就被改造成一个陆地上的船舱，用小客厅里最精美的物品装饰着；其中甚至包括那幅鞑靼人的快速帆船的画，船长把它挂在壁炉架上方，高兴极了；他离开它向后倒退，出神地赞赏它，在这之后的半个钟头内，其他什么事也干不了。
沃尔特不论怎么劝说，也不能使船长去把他的大表的发条拧紧，取回茶叶罐或动一动方糖箝子和茶匙。“不，不，我的孩子，”船长对这类恳求总是始终不变地回答道，“这份小小的财产我已转交给你们共同使用了。”他热心地、认真地重复着这些话，显然他相信它们具有议会法令一样的效力；除非他自己重新承认他享有所有权，否则这种转让财产的形式是找不出什么毛病来的。
这种新的安排有一个好处，就是除了使弗洛伦斯可以居住到更为隐僻的地方外，还可以把海军军官候补生重新安置到他经常的观察岗哨上去，而且店铺里的护窗板也可以拆下来了。心中毫无猜疑的船长对后一个措施不论多么不重视，但它决不是完全多余的，因为前一天护窗板一直关闭着，这在邻近的居民中引起了很大的哄动；仪器制造商的住宅荣幸地受到了公众异乎寻常的注意；从日出到日落，时时都有几群爱看热闹的人聚集在道路对面，密切注视着它。那些游手好闲的人和无赖们对船长的命运特别感兴趣，他们不时地趴在泥地上，通过店铺窗子下面地窖的格栅往里面探望，高兴地想象着船长在一个角落里上吊死了，他们可以看到他的外衣的一部分，可是另一伙人竭力反对对他的下落持这种看法，他们认为他被人用锤子暗杀了，现正躺在楼梯上。因此，当他们看到这些谣传的对象一清早站在店铺门口，身体十分硬朗，仿佛什么事情也没有发生过的一样，他们不免感到有些失望；这个区域的教区事务员是一位有野心的人，原先曾希望在把门强行砸开的时候他能光荣地在场，并穿上全套礼服到验尸官前去作证，这时竟然对对面的邻居说，这位戴着上了光的帽子的家伙最好别开这样的玩笑——他没有具体说明是什么玩笑——，还说他（教区事务员）要监视他。
“卡特尔船长，”当他们劳动之后，站在店铺门口休息，眺望着熟悉的老街道的时候，沃尔特沉思地说道，“这些时候一直来就没有听到所尔舅舅的一点音讯吗？”
“一点音讯也没有，我的孩子，”船长摇摇头，回答道。
“亲爱的、仁慈的老人出去寻找我，”沃尔特说道，“然而却没有给您写过一封信！可是为什么没有写呢？实际上，在您交给我的这个包裹里的信中，”他从衣袋中掏出那页当着聪明的邦斯贝的面拆开的信，“他说，如果当您打开它的时候，您听不到他的丝毫音讯的话，那么您可以相信他已死了。但愿上帝阻止这样的事情！但是即使他•确•实已经死了的话，那么您也是会•听•到他的音讯的！如果他自己不能写的话，那么也一定会有人按照他的愿望写信通知您：‘他已在某月某日死在我家里，’或‘他在我的照料下死去’，等等，‘伦敦人所罗门•吉尔斯先生要求向您转达他这个最后的问候和这个最后的请求’。”
船长以前从来没有攀登上这样开阔的可能性的高峰，现在对展现在他面前的宽广的前景产生了深刻的印象；他若有所思地摇着头，回答道，“说得好，我的孩子，说得很好。”
“在这难以入睡的夜里，我一直在想着这件事情；不过，”沃尔特红着脸，说道，“我也还想到其他一些事情；我不能不相信，卡特尔船长，我的所尔舅舅（愿上帝保佑他！）还活着；他将会回来。他的出走我并不感到很奇怪，因为，别提经常成为他性格特点的那种不可思议的东西，也别提他对我深厚的感情——在这种深厚的感情前面，他对他生命的其他考虑都是不值一顾的；要知道，我从他那里受到了世界上最好的父亲才会给予的关怀；没有任何人能比我对这一点了解得更清楚的了。”——这时沃尔特的干哑了，听不清了，他把眼睛转开，沿着街道望过去，“这一切都不去提了；我是说，我时常从书本中读到和听人说过，有些人有个什么亲近的亲爱的亲属可能在海上遭遇到船只失事，他们就迁居到海边的那些地方去，以便能早听到遇难船的消息，哪怕早听一、两个小时也好；他们或者甚至沿着航线走去，直到那条船的目的地为止，仿佛他们的旅行会产生出消息来似的。我想，我自己也会做这种事情，做得比别人一样快，也许比许多人还快一些。我的舅舅显然打算这样去做，可是这时候他为什么没有写信给您呢？再说，他怎么能在外面死去，而您却没有从别的什么人那里了解到这一点呢——我实在不明白！”
卡特尔船长摇摇头说，杰克•邦斯贝是一位能说出绝妙意见来的人，可是连他也不明白这一点。
“如果我的舅舅是一位粗心大意的年轻人的话，那么他的那些快活的朋友可能会把他诱骗到一个什么酒店里，把他收拾掉，以便抢占他身上的钱财；”沃尔特说道，“或者如果他是个冒冒失失的海员，口袋里装着两、三个月的工资，跑上岸去，那么我能明白他为什么销声匿迹的原因。可是他过去是那样的一个人——我希望，他现在也仍然是那样的一个人——，我就不能相信他会这样毫无音讯地死去。”
“沃尔，我的孩子，”船长在思索着、思索着的时候、愁闷地凝视着他，问道，“那么你是怎样解释这件事的呢？”
“卡特尔船长，”沃尔特回答道，“我不知道怎样解释这件事。我假定，他从来没有给您写过信！这没有什么可以怀疑的吧？”
“如果所尔•吉尔斯写过的话，我的孩子，”船长争辩地回答道，“那么他的信在哪里呢？”
“假定他把它托交给了什么人，”沃尔特假设着，说道，“而它被遗忘了或者被随便地扔在一旁，或者被丢失了。哪怕是这样的猜想在我看来也要比其他情况更可能发生。总之，我不仅忍受不了去揣摩其他情况，而且不能，也不想去揣摩。”“你知道，沃尔，这是希望，”船长像哲人一样说道，“希望！是它鼓舞了你。希望是个救生圈——请翻一下你的《小鸣禽》这本书中的感伤篇，就可以找到这句话，可是老天爷，我的孩子，希望就像其他的救生圈一样，只是漂浮在水面，而不能把它驾驶到哪里去。除了希望之神这个船头的雕塑外，还有锚，”船长继续说道，“可是如果我找不到海底的一个地方可以把它抛下去，我有一个锚又有什么好处呢？”
卡特尔船长的这些话与其说是以他本人独特的身份说的，还不如说是以一位有才智的公民与户主的身份，有责任把自己的点滴智慧传授给没有经验的年轻人，所以才说出的。可是他在说话的时候，确实由于从沃尔特那里获得新的希望而容光焕发，他轻轻地拍拍他的背，怀着热情，适当地结束他的话，说道，“万岁，我的孩子！我本人赞成你的意见。”
沃尔特用快乐的笑声回答了他的欢呼，说道：
“关于舅舅，我只想再讲一句话，卡特尔船长。我想，他通过通常的方式——通过邮局或邮船——来写信是不可能的，您懂得这一点。”
“是的，是的，我的孩子，”船长赞同地说道。
“您把信丢失也是不可能的，是不是？”
“什么，沃尔，”船长神色稍稍严肃起来，注视着他，说道，“从我失去这位通晓科学的人，老所尔•吉尔斯，你的舅舅的时候起，难道我不曾日日夜夜、眼巴巴地在盼望着他的消息吗？难道我的心不曾感到沉重，难道我不是一直在等候着他和你吗？难道我不论睡着还是醒着不都在坚守着我的岗位吗？难道在海军军官候补生还是完好无恙的时候，我不曾认为把它抛弃是卑鄙可耻的吗？”
“是的，卡特尔船长，”沃尔特紧握着他的手，回答道，“我知道您是会这样的。我也知道您所说的，所感觉的一切是多么忠实与真挚。我对这深信不疑。我相信它就像我相信我的脚踩在这门口的台阶上或我又握住了这只真诚的手一样，这一点您不会怀疑吧，是不是？”
“不会，不会，沃尔，”船长脸上喜气洋溢地回答道。
“我不再胡乱猜想了，”沃尔特热烈地握着船长坚硬的手，说道，船长也同样亲切地握着他的手。“我只想补充一句：我要是动一动我舅舅的财产，老天爷都不允许！他所留在这里的一切东西，将继续由世界上最诚实的管家和最厚道的人照管。这个人不是别人，他就姓卡特尔。现在，我最好的朋友，让我们谈谈——董贝小姐吧。”
沃尔特将要提到这四个字的时候，他的神态有些变化；当他把这四个字说出来的时候，他的信心与兴致似乎完全离开他了。
“昨天晚上当我提到董贝小姐的父亲的时候，她阻止了我，”沃尔特说道，“——您记得当时的情况吧？”
船长记得很清楚，所以点点头。
“在这之前，我原来的想法是，”沃尔特说道，“我们必须履行一个艰难的职责，就是劝说她跟她的朋友们通信，并回到家里去。”
船长用微弱的没了一声“等一等！”或“做好准备！”或在当时情况下同样恰当的什么话；可是由于他听到沃尔特宣布他的这个打算时心慌意乱，所以他的微弱极了，究竟他说了什么话，用只能猜测罢了。
“可是，”沃尔特说道，“那已经过去了。我现在不再那么想了。我宁肯重新待在那条遇难的船的碎片上（从我得救的时候起，我曾经多次在梦中在它上面漂流），我宁肯听凭风吹浪打，随波逐流，最后死去，也不愿意她回去！”
“万岁，我的孩子！”船长在难以抑制的称心满意的冲动下，大声喊叫道，“万岁！万岁！万岁！”
“只要想一想，她是那么年轻，那么善良，那么漂亮，”沃尔特说道，“过去是那么娇生惯养，生来是准备接受另一种命运的，如今却竟必须跟这残酷无情的世界进行斗争！那条把她和她过去的一切完全切断的鸿沟，虽然除了她本人之外，谁也不知道有多少深，可是我们已经看到它了。事态已经无法挽回。”
卡特尔船长不很明白这些话的含意，但却表示十分赞同，并用深表同感的语气说道，很顺风。
“她不应当一个人留在这里，是不是，卡特尔船长？”沃尔特焦急不安地问道。
“唔，我的孩子，”船长聪明地思索了一会儿之后，回答道，“这我不知道。你现在在这里，可以陪伴她，而当你们两人在一起的时候——”
“亲爱的卡特尔船长！”沃尔特提出异议道。“我在这里！董贝小姐在她纯洁、天真的心中，是把我认做她的哥哥的；可是如果我自以为我有权以这种身份放肆地接近她，如果我假装已经忘记我在道义上决不应该那样做的话，那么我的心该是多么的奸诈与有罪呢？”
“沃尔，我的孩子，”船长又露出有些心烦意乱的神色，暗示道，“难道就不能以任何别的身份了吗？”
“啊！”沃尔特回答道，“她这么信任、这么没有保护地到这里来避难，如果我利用这种机会，死乞白赖地向她求爱，成为她的情人的话，那么您是不是想使她不再尊敬我（是她那样的尊敬！），在我本人与她那天使般的脸孔中间永远挂下一块帷幕呢？我该怎么说？如果我能那样做的话，那么世界上没有什么人能比您更严厉地责备我了！”
“沃尔，我的孩子，”船长愈来愈意气消沉地说道，“如果有什么正当的理由或障碍使两个人不能在教堂里结合的话——你可以翻翻书本，找到这句话的时候请做个记号——，我希望我能在结婚预告中通告这一点。这么说，就没有别的身份了吗？难道就没有了吗，我的孩子？”
沃尔特敏捷地挥挥手，作了否定的回答。
“唔，我的孩子，”船长慢吞吞地，用低沉的说道，“我不想否认，我觉得我自己在这件事情上头脑有些糊涂。至于小姑娘夫人，沃尔，你听着，不论我多么失望，我认为尊敬她是我应尽的责任，因此，我跟随在你的后面航行，我的孩子，我觉得你做得很合适。这么说，就没有别的身份了吗？难道就没有了吗？”船长重复问道，一边心灰意冷地面对着他的倒塌了的城堡的废墟沉思着。
“卡特尔船长，”沃尔特用快活一些的神态，换了一个新的话题，使船长高兴起来——可是他太忧虑了，没有什么能使他高兴起来——“当董贝小姐住在这里的时候，我们应该设法找个人来，可以服侍她。这个人是可以信任的。她的亲属一个也不行。毫无疑问，董贝小姐觉得他们都是奉承她的父亲的。苏珊现在怎么样了？”
“那位姑娘吗？”船长回答道，“我相信她已被辞退了。当小姑娘夫人刚到这里来的时候，我发出了一个试探她情况的信号，小姑娘夫人对她的评价是很高的，说她好久以前就走了。”
“如果是这样的话，”沃尔特说道，“那么请您问一问董贝小姐，她到哪里去了，我们将设法把她找到。时间过得很快，董贝小姐不久就要起床了。您是她最好的朋友。请您在楼上等候她，楼下的一切都由我来照料。”
船长确实十分垂头丧气，沃尔特说完话时叹了一口气，船长跟着也叹了一口气，并答应照沃尔特的话去做。弗洛伦斯很喜欢她的新房间，急着想见到沃尔特；当知道今后有可能会见她的老朋友苏珊时，她开心得简直要发狂似的。可是弗洛伦斯说不出苏珊到哪里去了，而只知道她在埃塞克斯；她记得，除了图茨先生一人之外，谁也说不出她到哪里去了。
得到这个消息之后，郁郁不乐的船长回到了沃尔特的身边，并让他了解，图茨先生就是他在门口的台阶上遇见的那位年轻的先生；他是他的一位朋友，自己有一份财产，并毫无希望地迷恋着董贝小姐。船长也谈到原以为沃尔特已经死去的消息怎样使他与图茨先生相识，以及他们两人怎样达成庄严的协议，图茨先生必须闭口不谈他的爱情问题。
接着的问题是，弗洛伦斯是不是能信赖图茨先生；弗洛伦斯笑嘻嘻地说道，“哦，我完全信赖！”，于是打听出图茨先生住在哪里就很重要了。弗洛伦斯不知道这一点，船长则已经忘记了；船长在小客厅里对沃尔特说，图茨先生一定很快就会到这里来的，正在这时候，图茨先生本人进来了。
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生不顾什么礼节，跑进客厅里，说道，“我已接近于精神错乱的地步了！”
图茨先生好像是从迫击炮里把这些话打出来似的，在这之后他才注意到沃尔特，并吃吃地笑了一声来打招呼，这笑声可以说是很可怜的。
“请原谅我，先生，”图茨先生抱住前额，说道，“可是我现在如果还没有失去理智的话，那么也正在失去它了；一个处于这种状态中的人如果还想讲究什么礼貌的话，那就是虚伪的嘲弄了。吉尔斯船长，我冒昧地请求您允许我单独跟您谈谈。”
“哎呀，老弟，”船长握住他的手，说道，“你正是我们想要寻找的人。”
“啊，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，“我都成了寻找的对象了，那该是什么样的寻找啊！我不敢刮胡子——我是处于这样忙忙乱乱的状态之中。我没有把我的衣服刷过。我的头发蓬乱成一团。我告诉斗鸡，如果他想把我的靴子擦干净的话，那么我就让他死在我面前！”
所有这些精神错乱的症状，从图茨先生那古怪的、野蛮的外貌中也得到了证实。
“看这里，老弟，”船长说道，“这是老所尔•吉尔斯的外甥沃尔，就是那位我们都以为已经在海上死去的人。”
图茨先生把手从前额上拿下来，目不转睛地看着沃尔特。
“我的天哪！”图茨先生结结巴巴地说道，“不幸的事情是多么错综复杂！您好！我——我——我担心您一定浑身湿透了。吉尔斯船长，您允许我在店铺里跟您说一句话吗？”
他抓住船长的外套，跟他出去的时候低声问道：
“这么说，吉尔斯船长，这就是您曾说过，他跟董贝小姐是天造地设的一对那个人吗？”
“唔，是的，我的孩子，”闷闷不乐的船长回答道，“我曾经一度这样想过。”
“偏偏在这个时候！”图茨先生又用手抱住前额，大声喊道，“而不是在其他任何时候！——一个可恨的情敌！”图茨先生重新思索了一下之后，突然停住，把手从前额上拿下来，说道，“至少，他对我来说不是个可恨的情敌；如果我的爱情真正是无私的话，那么我为什么要恨他呢？不！吉尔斯船长，现在让我来证明这一点吧！”
图茨先生突然间又冲进客厅，紧握着沃尔特的手，说道：“您好！我希望您别着凉了！如果您允许我跟您认识的话，那么我——我将感到很高兴。我祝您长命百岁。说实话，我以荣誉发誓，”图茨先生把沃尔特的脸孔与身材好好端详了一番之后，满脸通红地说道，“我很高兴见到您！”
“衷心感谢您，”沃尔特说道，“我不能指望得到比这更真诚、更友好的欢迎了。”
“真的吗？”图茨先生握着他的手，说道，“您真客气。我非常感谢您。您好吗？我希望，您走了以后所有的人都很健康，就是说，——您知道，我的意思是说，不论您最近从哪里来。”
沃尔特以男子汉大丈夫的气概回答了所有这些良好的祝愿和更良好的意愿。
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，“我希望我能严格地遵守信义，但是我希望您能允许我现在提到某一个话题——”
“可以，可以，我的孩子，”船长回答道，“随便说吧，随便说吧。”
“那么我就说吧，吉尔斯船长和沃尔特斯上尉，”图茨先生说道，“你们可知道，董贝先生家里发生了一桩最可怕的事件：董贝小姐已经离开了她的父亲？在我看来，”图茨先生十分激动地说道，“她的父亲是一头畜牲！如果把他称为一块——一块大理石纪念碑或是一只猛禽，那就是对他的奉承了。
现在找不到她，谁也不知道她到哪里去了。”
“我是不是可以问一下，您怎么听到这个消息的？”沃尔特问道。
“沃尔特斯上尉，”图茨先生说道；他根据只有他自己才明白的独特的理由，采用了这个称呼，可能是把沃尔特的基督教名跟航海职业联系起来的缘故①，同时推测他跟船长有些亲戚关系，于是就自然而然地引伸出他们的职衔来②；“沃尔特斯上尉，我可以直截了当地回答您。事实是，由于我对董贝小姐有关的一切事情都极感兴趣——这决不是出于任何自私自利的原因，沃尔特斯上尉，因为我很清楚，我最能使所有各方都满意的事就是把我这个可以称为障碍的生命结束了——，我习惯于不时给一位仆人送点小费；他是一位品行端正的年轻人，姓托林森，在那个家里已服务很久了；昨天晚上托林森告诉我，事情的状况就是这样。从那时起，吉尔斯船长——和沃尔特斯上尉——我完全疯狂了，整夜躺在沙发上，现在你们看到的就是这个形容枯槁的骨头架子。”
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①在英文中，沃尔特（Walter）与海水（waters），（音译为沃尔特斯）的字形与发音是相似的。
②在英文中，船长（captain）的另一意思为海军上校；图茨先生可能认为沃尔特比卡特尔船长年轻，职称应该低一些，所以称他为上尉。
“图茨先生，”沃尔特说道，“我很高兴能让您放心。请您平静下来。董贝小姐安全无恙。”
“先生！”图茨先生从椅子中跳了起来，喊道，一边重新跟他握手，“这真是个极大的、难以形容的安慰呀；如果您现在就是告诉我董贝小姐已经结婚了，那么我也能微笑了。是的，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生对他说道，“以我的灵魂与肉体发誓，不论在这之后我紧接着会对自己做什么，我确实认为，我能微笑了，我是感到多么安慰啊。”
“您是个胸怀豁达的人，”沃尔特毫不迟疑地回答了他的问候，说道，“当您知道您可以为董贝小姐效劳时，您将会感到更大的安慰与喜悦的。卡特尔船长，劳驾您把图茨先生领到楼上去好吗？”
船长向图茨先生打了招呼，图茨先生露出困惑不
Chapter 51
Mr Dombey and the World
What is the proud man doing, while the days go by? Does he ever think of his daughter, or wonder where she is gone? Does he suppose she has come home, and is leading her old life in the weary house? No one can answer for him. He has never uttered her name, since. His household dread him too much to approach a subject on which he is resolutely dumb; and the only person who dares question him, he silences immediately.
'My dear Paul!' murmurs his sister, sidling into the room, on the day of Florence's departure, 'your wife! that upstart woman! Is it possible that what I hear confusedly, is true, and that this is her return for your unparalleled devotion to her; extending, I am sure, even to the sacrifice of your own relations, to her caprices and haughtiness? My poor brother!'
With this speech feelingly reminiscent of her not having been asked to dinner on the day of the first party, Mrs Chick makes great use of her pocket-handkerchief, and falls on Mr Dombey's neck. But Mr Dombey frigidly lifts her off, and hands her to a chair.
'I thank you, Louisa,' he says, 'for this mark of your affection; but desire that our conversation may refer to any other subject. When I bewail my fate, Louisa, or express myself as being in want of consolation, you can offer it, if you will have the goodness.'
'My dear Paul,' rejoins his sister, with her handkerchief to her face, and shaking her head, 'I know your great spirit, and will say no more upon a theme so painful and revolting;' on the heads of which two adjectives, Mrs Chick visits scathing indignation; 'but pray let me ask you - though I dread to hear something that will shock and distress me - that unfortunate child Florence -
'Louisa!' says her brother, sternly, 'silence! Not another word of this!'
Mrs Chick can only shake her head, and use her handkerchief, and moan over degenerate Dombeys, who are no Dombeys. But whether Florence has been inculpated in the flight of Edith, or has followed her, or has done too much, or too little, or anything, or nothing, she has not the least idea.
He goes on, without deviation, keeping his thoughts and feelings close within his own breast, and imparting them to no one. He makes no search for his daughter. He may think that she is with his sister, or that she is under his own roof. He may think of her constantly, or he may never think about her. It is all one for any sign he makes.
But this is sure; he does not think that he has lost her. He has no suspicion of the truth. He has lived too long shut up in his towering supremacy, seeing her, a patient gentle creature, in the path below it, to have any fear of that. Shaken as he is by his disgrace, he is not yet humbled to the level earth. The root is broad and deep, and in the course of years its fibres have spread out and gathered nourishment from everything around it. The tree is struck, but not down.
Though he hide the world within him from the world without - which he believes has but one purpose for the time, and that, to watch him eagerly wherever he goes - he cannot hide those rebel traces of it, which escape in hollow eyes and cheeks, a haggard forehead, and a moody, brooding air. Impenetrable as before, he is still an altered man; and, proud as ever, he is humbled, or those marks would not be there.
The world. What the world thinks of him, how it looks at him, what it sees in him, and what it says - this is the haunting demon of his mind. It is everywhere where he is; and, worse than that, it is everywhere where he is not. It comes out with him among his servants, and yet he leaves it whispering behind; he sees it pointing after him in the street; it is waiting for him in his counting-house; it leers over the shoulders of rich men among the merchants; it goes beckoning and babbling among the crowd; it always anticipates him, in every place; and is always busiest, he knows, when he has gone away. When he is shut up in his room at night, it is in his house, outside it, audible in footsteps on the pavement, visible in print upon the table, steaming to and fro on railroads and in ships; restless and busy everywhere, with nothing else but him.
It is not a phantom of his imagination. It is as active in other people's minds as in his. Witness Cousin Feenix, who comes from Baden-Baden, purposely to talk to him. Witness Major Bagstock, who accompanies Cousin Feenix on that friendly mission.
Mr Dombey receives them with his usual dignity, and stands erect, in his old attitude, before the fire. He feels that the world is looking at him out of their eyes. That it is in the stare of the pictures. That Mr Pitt, upon the bookcase, represents it. That there are eyes in its own map, hanging on the wall.
'An unusually cold spring,' says Mr Dombey - to deceive the world.
'Damme, Sir,' says the Major, in the warmth of friendship, 'Joseph Bagstock is a bad hand at a counterfeit. If you want to hold your friends off, Dombey, and to give them the cold shoulder, J. B. is not the man for your purpose. Joe is rough and tough, Sir; blunt, Sir, blunt, is Joe. His Royal Highness the late Duke of York did me the honour to say, deservedly or undeservedly - never mind that - "If there is a man in the service on whom I can depend for coming to the point, that man is Joe - Joe Bagstock."'
Mr Dombey intimates his acquiescence.
'Now, Dombey,' says the Major, 'I am a man of the world. Our friend Feenix - if I may presume to - '
'Honoured, I am sure,' says Cousin Feenix.
' - is,' proceeds the Major, with a wag of his head, 'also a man of the world. Dombey, you are a man of the world. Now, when three men of the world meet together, and are friends - as I believe - ' again appealing to Cousin Feenix.
'I am sure,' says Cousin Feenix, 'most friendly.'
' - and are friends,' resumes the Major, 'Old Joe's opinion is (I may be wrong), that the opinion of the world on any particular subject, is very easily got at.
'Undoubtedly,' says Cousin Feenix. 'In point of fact, it's quite a self-evident sort of thing. I am extremely anxious, Major, that my friend Dombey should hear me express my very great astonishment and regret, that my lovely and accomplished relative, who was possessed of every qualification to make a man happy, should have so far forgotten what was due to - in point of fact, to the world - as to commit herself in such a very extraordinary manner. I have been in a devilish state of depression ever since; and said indeed to Long Saxby last night - man of six foot ten, with whom my friend Dombey is probably acquainted - that it had upset me in a confounded way, and made me bilious. It induces a man to reflect, this kind of fatal catastrophe,' says Cousin Feenix, 'that events do occur in quite a providential manner; for if my Aunt had been living at the time, I think the effect upon a devilish lively woman like herself, would have been prostration, and that she would have fallen, in point of fact, a victim.'
'Now, Dombey! - ' says the Major, resuming his discourse with great energy.
'I beg your pardon,' interposes Cousin Feenix. 'Allow me another word. My friend Dombey will permit me to say, that if any circumstance could have added to the most infernal state of pain in which I find myself on this occasion, it would be the natural amazement of the world at my lovely and accomplished relative (as I must still beg leave to call her) being supposed to have so committed herself with a person - man with white teeth, in point of fact - of very inferior station to her husband. But while I must, rather peremptorily, request my friend Dombey not to criminate my lovely and accomplished relative until her criminality is perfectly established, I beg to assure my friend Dombey that the family I represent, and which is now almost extinct (devilish sad reflection for a man), will interpose no obstacle in his way, and will be happy to assent to any honourable course of proceeding, with a view to the future, that he may point out. I trust my friend Dombey will give me credit for the intentions by which I am animated in this very melancholy affair, and - a - in point of fact, I am not aware that I need trouble my friend Dombey with any further observations.'
Mr Dombey bows, without raising his eyes, and is silent.
'Now, Dombey,' says the Major, 'our friend Feenix having, with an amount of eloquence that Old Joe B. has never heard surpassed - no, by the Lord, Sir! never!' - says the Major, very blue, indeed, and grasping his cane in the middle - 'stated the case as regards the lady, I shall presume upon our friendship, Dombey, to offer a word on another aspect of it. Sir,' says the Major, with the horse's cough, 'the world in these things has opinions, which must be satisfied.'
'I know it,' rejoins Mr Dombey.
'Of course you know it, Dombey,' says the Major, 'Damme, Sir, I know you know it. A man of your calibre is not likely to be ignorant of it.'
'I hope not,' replies Mr Dombey.
'Dombey!' says the Major, 'you will guess the rest. I speak out - prematurely, perhaps - because the Bagstock breed have always spoke out. Little, Sir, have they ever got by doing it; but it's in the Bagstock blood. A shot is to be taken at this man. You have J. B. at your elbow. He claims the name of friend. God bless you!'
'Major,' returns Mr Dombey, 'I am obliged. I shall put myself in your hands when the time comes. The time not being come, I have forborne to speak to you.'
'Where is the fellow, Dombey?' inquires the Major, after gasping and looking at him, for a minute.
'I don't know.'
'Any intelligence of him?' asks the Major.
'Yes.'
'Dombey, I am rejoiced to hear it,' says the Major. 'I congratulate you.'
'You will excuse - even you, Major,' replies Mr Dombey, 'my entering into any further detail at present. The intelligence is of a singular kind, and singularly obtained. It may turn out to be valueless; it may turn out to be true; I cannot say at present. My explanation must stop here.'
Although this is but a dry reply to the Major's purple enthusiasm, the Major receives it graciously, and is delighted to think that the world has such a fair prospect of soon receiving its due. Cousin Feenix is then presented with his meed of acknowledgment by the husband of his lovely and accomplished relative, and Cousin Feenix and Major Bagstock retire, leaving that husband to the world again, and to ponder at leisure on their representation of its state of mind concerning his affairs, and on its just and reasonable expectations.
But who sits in the housekeeper's room, shedding tears, and talking to Mrs Pipchin in a low tone, with uplifted hands? It is a lady with her face concealed in a very close black bonnet, which appears not to belong to her. It is Miss Tox, who has borrowed this disguise from her servant, and comes from Princess's Place, thus secretly, to revive her old acquaintance with Mrs Pipchin, in order to get certain information of the state of Mr Dombey.
'How does he bear it, my dear creature?' asks Miss Tox.
'Well,' says Mrs Pipchin, in her snappish way, 'he's pretty much as usual.'
'Externally,' suggests Miss Tox 'But what he feels within!'
Mrs Pipchin's hard grey eye looks doubtful as she answers, in three distinct jerks, 'Ah! Perhaps. I suppose so.'
'To tell you my mind, Lucretia,' says Mrs Pipchin; she still calls Miss Tox Lucretia, on account of having made her first experiments in the child-quelling line of business on that lady, when an unfortunate and weazen little girl of tender years; 'to tell you my mind, Lucretia, I think it's a good riddance. I don't want any of your brazen faces here, myself!'
'Brazen indeed! Well may you say brazen, Mrs Pipchin!' returned Miss Tox. 'To leave him! Such a noble figure of a man!' And here Miss Tox is overcome.
'I don't know about noble, I'm sure,' observes Mrs Pipchin; irascibly rubbing her nose. 'But I know this - that when people meet with trials, they must bear 'em. Hoity, toity! I have had enough to bear myself, in my time! What a fuss there is! She's gone, and well got rid of. Nobody wants her back, I should think!' This hint of the Peruvian Mines, causes Miss Tox to rise to go away; when Mrs Pipchin rings the bell for Towlinson to show her out, Mr Towlinson, not having seen Miss Tox for ages, grins, and hopes she's well; observing that he didn't know her at first, in that bonnet.
'Pretty well, Towlinson, I thank you,' says Miss Tox. 'I beg you'll have the goodness, when you happen to see me here, not to mention it. My visits are merely to Mrs Pipchin.'
'Very good, Miss,' says Towlinson.
'Shocking circumstances occur, Towlinson,' says Miss Tox.
'Very much so indeed, Miss,' rejoins Towlinson.
'I hope, Towlinson,' says Miss Tox, who, in her instruction of the Toodle family, has acquired an admonitorial tone, and a habit of improving passing occasions, 'that what has happened here, will be a warning to you, Towlinson.'
'Thank you, Miss, I'm sure,' says Towlinson.
He appears to be falling into a consideration of the manner in which this warning ought to operate in his particular case, when the vinegary Mrs Pipchin, suddenly stirring him up with a 'What are you doing? Why don't you show the lady to the door?' he ushers Miss Tox forth. As she passes Mr Dombey's room, she shrinks into the inmost depths of the black bonnet, and walks, on tip-toe; and there is not another atom in the world which haunts him so, that feels such sorrow and solicitude about him, as Miss Tox takes out under the black bonnet into the street, and tries to carry home shadowed it from the newly-lighted lamps
But Miss Tox is not a part of Mr Dombey's world. She comes back every evening at dusk; adding clogs and an umbrella to the bonnet on wet nights; and bears the grins of Towlinson, and the huffs and rebuffs of Mrs Pipchin, and all to ask how he does, and how he bears his misfortune: but she has nothing to do with Mr Dombey's world. Exacting and harassing as ever, it goes on without her; and she, a by no means bright or particular star, moves in her little orbit in the corner of another system, and knows it quite well, and comes, and cries, and goes away, and is satisfied. Verily Miss Tox is easier of satisfaction than the world that troubles Mr Dombey so much!
At the Counting House, the clerks discuss the great disaster in all its lights and shades, but chiefly wonder who will get Mr Carker's place. They are generally of opinion that it will be shorn of some of its emoluments, and made uncomfortable by newly-devised checks and restrictions; and those who are beyond all hope of it are quite sure they would rather not have it, and don't at all envy the person for whom it may prove to be reserved. Nothing like the prevailing sensation has existed in the Counting House since Mr Dombey's little son died; but all such excitements there take a social, not to say a jovial turn, and lead to the cultivation of good fellowship. A reconciliation is established on this propitious occasion between the acknowledged wit of the Counting House and an aspiring rival, with whom he has been at deadly feud for months; and a little dinner being proposed, in commemoration of their happily restored amity, takes place at a neighbouring tavern; the wit in the chair; the rival acting as Vice-President. The orations following the removal of the cloth are opened by the Chair, who says, Gentlemen, he can't disguise from himself that this is not a time for private dissensions. Recent occurrences to which he need not more particularly allude, but which have not been altogether without notice in some Sunday Papers,' and in a daily paper which he need not name (here every other member of the company names it in an audible murmur), have caused him to reflect; and he feels that for him and Robinson to have any personal differences at such a moment, would be for ever to deny that good feeling in the general cause, for which he has reason to think and hope that the gentlemen in Dombey's House have always been distinguished. Robinson replies to this like a man and a brother; and one gentleman who has been in the office three years, under continual notice to quit on account of lapses in his arithmetic, appears in a perfectly new light, suddenly bursting out with a thrilling speech, in which he says, May their respected chief never again know the desolation which has fallen on his hearth! and says a great variety of things, beginning with 'May he never again,' which are received with thunders of applause. In short, a most delightful evening is passed, only interrupted by a difference between two juniors, who, quarrelling about the probable amount of Mr Carker's late receipts per annum, defy each other with decanters, and are taken out greatly excited. Soda water is in general request at the office next day, and most of the party deem the bill an imposition.
As to Perch, the messenger, he is in a fair way of being ruined for life. He finds himself again constantly in bars of public-houses, being treated and lying dreadfully. It appears that he met everybody concerned in the late transaction, everywhere, and said to them, 'Sir,' or 'Madam,' as the case was, 'why do you look so pale?' at which each shuddered from head to foot, and said, 'Oh, Perch!' and ran away. Either the consciousness of these enormities, or the reaction consequent on liquor, reduces Mr Perch to an extreme state of low spirits at that hour of the evening when he usually seeks consolation in the society of Mrs Perch at Balls Pond; and Mrs Perch frets a good deal, for she fears his confidence in woman is shaken now, and that he half expects on coming home at night to find her gone off with some Viscount - 'which,' as she observes to an intimate female friend, 'is what these wretches in the form of woman have to answer for, Mrs P. It ain't the harm they do themselves so much as what they reflect upon us, Ma'am; and I see it in Perch's eye.
Mr Dombey's servants are becoming, at the same time, quite dissipated, and unfit for other service. They have hot suppers every night, and 'talk it over' with smoking drinks upon the board. Mr Towlinson is always maudlin after half-past ten, and frequently begs to know whether he didn't say that no good would ever come of living in a corner house? They whisper about Miss Florence, and wonder where she is; but agree that if Mr Dombey don't know, Mrs Dombey does. This brings them to the latter, of whom Cook says, She had a stately way though, hadn't she? But she was too high! They all agree that she was too high, and Mr Towlinson's old flame, the housemaid (who is very virtuous), entreats that you will never talk to her any more about people who hold their heads up, as if the ground wasn't good enough for 'em.
Everything that is said and done about it, except by Mr Dombey, is done in chorus. Mr Dombey and the world are alone together.
日子一天天地过去，这位高傲的人在做些什么呢？他曾想到他的女儿吗？或曾感到奇怪，她到哪里去了吗？是不是他以为她已回到家里，在这枯燥无趣的公馆中，像过去一样过着她的生活呢？没有人能替他回答。从那时候起，他从来没有提到过她的名字。他家里的人太害怕他了，不敢向他提起一个他坚决不谈的话题，而唯一敢问他的人，他又立即使她沉默下来。
“我亲爱的保罗！”他的妹妹在弗洛伦斯逃走的那一天，侧身走进他的房间，低声问道，“你的妻子！那位暴发的女人！我听到的那些传说纷纭的消息难道可能是真的吗？你对她无比真诚；毫无疑问，为了迁就她的任性与高傲，你甚至不惜牺牲自己的亲属；难道这就是她对你的报答吗？我可怜的哥哥！”
奇克夫人说了这些话，伤心地回忆起在举行第一次晚会的那天她没有被邀请参加宴会，不断使用她的手绢，并扑到董贝先生的脖子上。但是董贝先生冷淡地推开她，让她在椅子中坐下。
“谢谢你所表示的感情，路易莎，”他说道，“但是我希望我们能转到其他的话题上去。以后当我为我的命运痛哭或者表示需要安慰的时候，路易莎，那时如果你肯费心的话，那么你可以再来安慰我。”
“我亲爱的保罗，”他的妹妹用手绢捂着脸，摇摇头，回答道，“我知道你的伟大的精神力量，我将不再谈一个令人如此痛苦和厌恶的话题，”奇克夫人极为愤慨地说出这两个形容词，“可是请允许我问你一下——虽然我害怕会听到使我震惊和痛苦的消息——，那个不幸的孩子弗洛伦斯——”
“路易莎！”她的哥哥严厉地说道，“别说了。一个字也别谈这个！”
奇克夫人只好摇摇头，使用她的手绢，并为董贝家里这些退化了的人叹息，她们已不再能称得上是董贝家里的人了。但是弗洛伦斯在伊迪丝的私奔中究竟是不是有罪，是不是跟随着她逃走了，在这次逃走的事件中她是参与得太多还是参与得太少，是多少参与了一点还是根本没有参与，奇克夫人却丝毫不了解。
他丝毫没有改变，依旧像过去一样，把他的思想与感情掩藏在自己心中，不向任何人透露。他没有寻找他的女儿。也许他以为她跟他的妹妹住在一起，或者她就住在他自己的家中。也许他经常想到她，也许他从来没有想到过她。如果从他表露的迹象来判断，所有这些设想都是对的。
不过有一点是确实的：他•没•有想到他已失去了她。他没有怀疑过这一事实。他对周围的事情不闻不问，在高高在上、至尊至贵的地位中生活得太久了，他看到的她是在他下面的一条小路上的一个耐性的、温柔的人儿，所以他一点也不曾害怕会失去她。他虽然由于丧失体面而受到了震动，但还没有被推翻到地上。树根又粗又深，在长久的岁月中它的须根伸展开来，从四周的一切东西中吸取了营养。树受到了打击，但没有倒下。
虽然他把他内心的世界掩藏起来，不让外面的社会看见——他相信，外面的社会现在只有一个目的：不论他走到哪里，它都急切地注视着他——，但是他却不能掩藏他在内心世界所进行的斗争，因为他那凹陷的眼睛与双颊、露出皱纹的前额、怏怏不乐的沉思的神态都表明了这一点。虽然他像以前一样使人看不透，但他还是改变了；虽然他像往常一样高傲，但他的锐气还是受到了挫折，否则那些痕迹就不会留下来了。
社会。社会对他想些什么，它怎样看他，它在他身上看到了什么，它议论些什么，——这是经常缠扰他心绪的恶魔。在他所在的一切地方，它都在那里；不仅如此，甚至在他不在的一切地方，它也在那里。它和他一起出现在仆人中间；在他离开的时候，它还和他们一起在背后窃窃私语；他看到它在街道上指点他；它在他的营业所里等待着他；它从有钱的商人转过身来的时候斜眼看着他；它在人群中间招手示意并喋喋不休地谈论着；它在每个地方总比他抢先一步；当他走开以后，他知道它总是极为忙碌的。夜间当他把自己关在房间里的时候，它就在他的公馆里面和公馆外面，可以从人行道上的脚步声中听到它，可以从桌子上的报纸中看到它，它沿着铁路线和乘坐在船舶上来来往往；它在每个地方都不眠不休，忙碌不停，不为其他事情，只是为了他。
这不是他想象的幻影。它在其他人们的心中就像在他的心中一样活跃。从巴登一巴登专程前来跟他谈话的菲尼克斯表哥是一个见证人。陪同菲尼克斯表哥来完成这一友好任务的白格斯托克少校也是一个见证人。
董贝先生以他往常的尊严态度接待了他们，并采取他往常的姿势，笔直地站在壁炉前面。他觉得，社会正通过他们的眼睛在看着他。他觉得，它存在于四周图画的注视中。书橱上的皮特先生是它的代表。他觉得，甚至挂在墙上的地图中也有它的眼睛。
“今年春天格外冷，”董贝先生说道，——这是为了欺骗社会。
“他妈的，先生，”少校怀着热情的友谊说道，“约瑟夫•白格斯托克最不会装假。如果您想要避开您的朋友们的话，那么乔•白不是适合于您的目的的人，董贝。乔是粗鲁和坚强的，先生；他是个直肠直肚的人，直肠直肚是乔的性格；已故的约克郡公爵殿下使我不胜荣幸地指出过（我配受或不配受这种光荣，这倒无关紧要），‘我手下这些在职的人当中，如果有一位我可以信赖他能直言不讳的话，那么这个人就是乔——乔•白格斯托克’。”
董贝先生表示同意。
“董贝，”少校说道，“我是个上流社会的人物。我们的朋友菲尼克斯——如果我可以冒昧地这样称呼他的话——”
“不胜荣幸，”菲尼克斯表哥说道。
“也是个上流社会的人物，”少校摇晃了一下脑袋，继续说道，“董贝，您是个上流社会的人物。如果三位上流社会的人物聚会在一起，而且是朋友——就像我相信的那样”——
他又转向菲尼克斯表哥，向他求助。
“毫无疑问，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“极为友好。”
“——而且是朋友，”少校继续说道，“那么，老乔认为（乔也许错了），上流社会对任何问题的意见就很容易猜测出来了。”
“毫无疑问，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“事实上，这是不言而喻的事情。我十分盼望，少校，我的朋友董贝能听我向他表示，我感到极为惊奇与遗憾：我那可爱的、多才多艺的、具备能使一位男子幸福的各种资质的亲戚，竟会把她对——事实上——社会应尽的责任完全忘记，以这样异乎寻常的方式来败坏自己的声誉；从那时候起，我的情绪非常消沉；就在昨天晚上我还对高个子萨克斯比说——他身高六英尺十英寸，我的朋友董贝大概认得他吧——，这件事使我变得心烦意乱，羞愧不堪，而且爱发脾气。这种奇灾大难使人不由得想到，一切都是由天意安排的，”菲尼克斯表哥继续说道，“因为如果我的姑妈现在还活着的话，那么我想，对一位像她那样非常活泼的女人来说，这件事对她的打击将会使她发生虚脱，她将成为牺牲品。”
“因此，董贝！——”少校精神十足地想把他的话继续说下去。
“请原谅，”菲尼克斯表哥打断他，说道，“请允许我再说一句。我的朋友董贝将允许我指出，我现在感受到像进地狱般的痛苦，如果说有什么情况能加深我这种痛苦的话，那就是大家猜想，我的那位可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚（请允许我仍这样称呼她）是跟一位地位远远低于她丈夫的人——事实上，就是那位长白牙齿的人——一起败坏了她自己的声誉；社会对这自然而然地感到惊奇。不过我认为我有责任坚决请求我的朋友董贝在她的罪行没有完全被证实之前，不要归罪于我的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚；另一方面，我要请我的朋友董贝相信，我所代表的、现在几乎已灭绝了的家族（这一点想起来真使人悲伤）不会在他的道路上设置任何障碍，而且将会对他所指出的任何正当的处理方法高兴地表示同意。我相信，我的朋友董贝将会赞成我的这种意愿，正是这种意愿才使我在这十分悲伤的事情中还能振作起精神来；事实上，我不知道我需要再发表一些什么意见来打扰我的朋友董贝了。”
董贝先生没有抬起眼睛，鞠了个躬，默默无言。
“董贝，”少校说道，“我们的朋友菲尼克斯已经以他口若悬河的动听语言——老乔•白从没有听到过比这更为出色的流利口才；完全不错，他可以向天主发誓，他从来没有听到过——，说明了有关这位夫人的一切情形，”少校脸色十分发青，一边紧握着手杖中间，说道，“在这之后，我想凭着我们的友谊，董贝，从另一个方面来说一句话，先生，”少校发出了马般的咳嗽，说道，“社会在这种情况下是有舆论的，这些舆论的要求是应当得到满足的。”
“这我明白，”董贝先生答道。
“当然，您明白，董贝，”少校说道，“他妈的，先生，我知道您明白。像您这样才能出众的人是不大可能不了解的。”
“董贝！”少校说道，“其余的由您自己去猜测，我只直率地说一点——也许说得过早了——，因为白格斯托克家族的人总是有话直说的。他们这样做得不到什么好处，先生，可是白格斯托克家族的人生来就是这种脾气。应当开枪打死这个人。乔•白就在您的身边。他要求行使朋友的权利。上帝保佑您。”
“少校，”董贝先生回答道，“我很感谢您。时候一到，我就把我交由您支配。现在时候还没有到，我只好耐着性子跟您说话。”
“这家伙现在在哪里，董贝？”少校喘着气，并向他看了一分钟之后，问道。
“我不知道。”
“有他的什么消息吗？”少校问道。
“有。”
“董贝，我很高兴听到这，”少校说道。“我祝贺您。”
“请原谅，少校，”董贝先生回答道，“甚至对您，我现在也还不能谈到详细的情形。消息是奇怪的，得到消息的方式也是奇怪的。它可能毫无价值，但也可能是真实的。我现在还不能说什么。我的解释就到这里为止。”
虽然对热情得脸色发紫的少校来说，这是个索然无趣的回答，可是少校有礼貌地接受了它，并高兴地想到，社会可以期望很快就能得到它应当得到的东西。然后，菲尼克斯表哥听到了他的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚的丈夫表示感谢的话；然后，菲尼克斯表哥和白格斯托克少校起身告辞，把那位丈夫留下重新面对着社会；他在闲暇的时候可能思考着他们两位反映了上流社会对他的私事的一些看法和它的公正的、合理的期望。
可是谁坐在女管家的房间里，举起双手，流着眼泪，在低声地跟皮普钦太太谈话呢？这是一位用一顶很窄小的黑帽子把自己脸孔掩藏起来的女士，那顶帽子看来不是属于她自己的。这是托克斯小姐，她从她的仆人那里借来这个化妆的物品，从公主广场来到这里，恢复她跟皮普钦太太旧日的交情，以便得到董贝先生的消息。
“他怎么忍受这打击呢，我亲爱的？”托克斯小姐问道。
“唔，”皮普钦太太用暴躁的态度回答道，“他跟往常一样。”
“表面上是这样，”托克斯小姐提示道。“可是他心里是怎样的感觉啊！”
皮普钦太太清楚而短促地回答道，“啊！也许。我想是这样。”这时她冷酷的、灰色的眼睛露出了疑问的神色。
“跟你说句心里话，卢克丽霞，”皮普钦太太说道；她仍旧管托克斯小姐叫卢克丽霞，因为她就是这位女士压制孩子的事业中的头一批试验品，当时她是个不幸的、孱弱的、年龄很小的女孩子；“跟你说句心里话，卢克丽霞，我认为，除掉她倒是件好事。我这里不需要你这种厚颜无耻的女人！”
“真是厚颜无耻！您说得不错，就是厚颜无耻！”托克斯小姐回答道。“抛弃他！这样高尚的人！”这时托克斯小姐极为激动。
“说真的，我不知道什么高尚不高尚，”皮普钦太太暴躁地擦擦鼻子，说道，“可是我知道，当人们遇到考验的时候，他们必须经受得住。哎呀！我本人这一辈子经受的考验真是够多的了！这有什么值得大惊小怪的！她走了，没有她反倒好。我想这里没有一个人想要她回来！”
从秘鲁矿井发出的这个暗示使托克斯小姐站起身来告辞；皮普钦太太摇摇铃，让托林森领她出去。托林森先生好久没有见到托克斯小姐了，所以咧着嘴笑着，并祝她身体健康，同时指出，她戴了这顶帽子使他起先认不出她来了。
“谢谢您，托林森，我身体不错，”托克斯小姐说道，“我想麻烦您帮个忙，以后当您碰巧看到我在这里的时候，请别跟别人提起这件事。我只是来看看皮普钦太太。”
“很好，小姐，”托林森说道。
“这里发生惊人的大事了，托林森，”托克斯小姐说道。
“确实是这样，小姐，”托林森回答道。
“我希望，托林森，”托克斯小姐说道；她在教图德尔孩子们学习时已习惯于用劝告的语气说话和从已发生的事情中吸取教训，“这里发生的事情对您是个警告，托林森。”
“谢谢您，小姐，”托林森说道。
当他好像正在沉思这种警告将以一种什么方式对他起作用的时候，性情乖戾的皮普钦太太突然把他唤醒，喊道，“你在干什么？你为什么不把这位女士送出去？”于是他就把托克斯小姐领到门外。当她走过董贝先生的房间时，她缩着身子，竭力想躲藏在黑帽子的阴影之中，并踮着脚尖走路；当她戴着黑帽子走进街道的时候，街灯刚点亮不久，她就设法在自身影子的遮掩下走回家去。这时候，世界上没有别的人这样经常出没在他的左右，这样为他牵肠挂肚，操心费神的。
可是托克斯小姐不是董贝先生的上流社会的一部分。每天晚上天黑的时候她回到这里来；每逢下雨天，她除了戴那顶黑帽子外，还多穿一双木底鞋，多拿一柄雨伞。她忍受着托林森的咧着嘴笑和皮普钦太太的发怒与申斥，这一切都仅仅是为了想了解：他是怎样生活的和他怎样忍受他的不幸的；可是她跟董贝先生的上流社会没有任何关系。董贝先生的上流社会像以往一样难以取悦，像以往一样烦扰着人们，它没有她继续存在下去；而她呢，一颗远不是明亮、也不是出色的星星，在另一个星系的角落里她的小小的轨道上运行着；她对这一点了解得很清楚，来了，哭了，走了，感到满足了。说实在的，托克斯小姐要比使董贝先生感到十分苦恼不安的上流社会容易得到满足。
在营业所里，职员们从各个不同的角度和侧面讨论了这桩重大的不幸事件，但主要是捉摸不清究竟谁将来接替卡克先生的职位。普遍的看法是：这个职位的薪金将会削减；而且由于实行新的检查与限制办法，这个职位将不大好当；那些毫无希望得到这个职位的人们肯定地说，他们完全不想取得它，也根本不嫉妒那位将被任命担任这个职务的人。从董贝先生的小儿子死去以后，在营业所里还没有发生过这样轰动一时的事情。不过所有这些激动的情绪不说是使大家变得快活了，但也使大家变得爱好交际了，而且增进了同事之间的交情。营业所中一位公认为最富有机智的人和他的抱负不凡的敌手在过去好几个月中彼此一直怀有不共戴天的仇恨，但在目前这吉利的时刻，两人实现了和解。同事们为了庆祝他们可喜地恢复亲睦友好，在附近的小酒店里举行了一个小小的宴会，那位富有机智的人担任宴会的主席，他的敌手担任副主席；当桌布撤走以后，主席开始演说；他说，先生们，他不能对自己掩饰真情，现在不是个私人意见不和的时代；最近发生的事件，他不需要详细提到它，可是有些星期天出版的报纸和一份他不必指名的日报（这时候在座的其他人都用听得见的低语说出这张日报的名称）并不是根本没有注意它；他觉得，在这样的时刻，他与鲁宾逊私人间的不和将无异于否认他们对他们共同事业所具有的良好的感情，而他有理由认为并希望，董贝公司所有的先生们都是以这种良好的感情而著称的。鲁宾逊以丈夫气概和兄弟情谊回答了这些话。
有一位在公司里工作了三年、由于发生计算错误经常受到解职警告的先生，以一种完全新的姿态出现在大家面前，他突然发表了动人的演说，说但愿他们可敬的老板在他的家庭中永远也不再发生可怕的不幸了！还说了其他许多话，每句话都是以“但愿他永远不再”开头的，他的演说受到了大家雷鸣般的热烈鼓掌。总之，他们度过了一个极为愉快的晚上，只不过有两位低级的职员因为对卡克先生最近每年可能的收入意见不一致，发生了争吵，两人拿着圆酒瓶相互威胁，十分激烈，后来被大家拉出去了。第二天大家在办公室里都需要喝苏打水，参加宴会的大多数人都认为餐费帐单是敲竹杠。
说到信差珀奇，他可真有被彻底毁灭的危险。他又经常出现在酒吧，受到款待，并无边无际地说着弥天大谎。好像他到处都遇见最近事件中有关的人，他问他们：“先生（或夫人），为什么您的脸色这样苍白？”被问到的每个人都从头到脚颤抖着，说了声，“啊，珀奇！”就跑开了。珀奇先生晚上通常在鲍尔斯池塘与珀奇太太在一起寻求安慰，这时候，也许是对他卑劣的谎言感到后悔，也许是喝酒后的反应，他的情绪低沉到了极点；珀奇太太则十分烦恼，因为她害怕他现在对女人的信任动摇了；他夜间回家的时候，几乎多半准备着发现她跟某个子爵私奔了。
这时候，董贝先生的仆人们变得十分吊儿郎当，几乎干什么事情都不合适。他们每天晚上都吃热乎乎的晚餐，一面喝着冒气的酒，一面高谈阔论。托林森先生过了10点半总是喝得醉醺醺的，感伤落泪，时常请别人回答他，他是不是说过，住在坐落在拐角的房屋里是不会有什么好处的？他们交头接耳地谈论着弗洛伦斯小姐，不知道她现在在哪里，但是大家一致认为，如果董贝先生不知道的话，董贝夫人是一定知道的。这样又使他们谈论到后一位，厨娘说，她的举止毕竟还是庄严高贵的，是不是？但是她太趾高气扬了！他们一致同意，她太趾高气扬了。托林森以前的情人女仆（她是很有德行的）请求大家永远也别对她谈起那些高昂着脑袋的人们，仿佛土地对她们来说都还不够好似的。
除了董贝先生以外，大家在这个问题上所说的和所做的，全都协调一致。董贝先生独自面对着社会。
Chapter 52
Secret Intelligence
What is the proud man doing, while the days go by? Does he ever think of his daughter, or wonder where she is gone? Does he suppose she has come home, and is leading her old life in the weary house? No one can answer for him. He has never uttered her name, since. His household dread him too much to approach a subject on which he is resolutely dumb; and the only person who dares question him, he silences immediately.
'My dear Paul!' murmurs his sister, sidling into the room, on the day of Florence's departure, 'your wife! that upstart woman! Is it possible that what I hear confusedly, is true, and that this is her return for your unparalleled devotion to her; extending, I am sure, even to the sacrifice of your own relations, to her caprices and haughtiness? My poor brother!'
With this speech feelingly reminiscent of her not having been asked to dinner on the day of the first party, Mrs Chick makes great use of her pocket-handkerchief, and falls on Mr Dombey's neck. But Mr Dombey frigidly lifts her off, and hands her to a chair.
'I thank you, Louisa,' he says, 'for this mark of your affection; but desire that our conversation may refer to any other subject. When I bewail my fate, Louisa, or express myself as being in want of consolation, you can offer it, if you will have the goodness.'
'My dear Paul,' rejoins his sister, with her handkerchief to her face, and shaking her head, 'I know your great spirit, and will say no more upon a theme so painful and revolting;' on the heads of which two adjectives, Mrs Chick visits scathing indignation; 'but pray let me ask you - though I dread to hear something that will shock and distress me - that unfortunate child Florence -
'Louisa!' says her brother, sternly, 'silence! Not another word of this!'
Mrs Chick can only shake her head, and use her handkerchief, and moan over degenerate Dombeys, who are no Dombeys. But whether Florence has been inculpated in the flight of Edith, or has followed her, or has done too much, or too little, or anything, or nothing, she has not the least idea.
He goes on, without deviation, keeping his thoughts and feelings close within his own breast, and imparting them to no one. He makes no search for his daughter. He may think that she is with his sister, or that she is under his own roof. He may think of her constantly, or he may never think about her. It is all one for any sign he makes.
But this is sure; he does not think that he has lost her. He has no suspicion of the truth. He has lived too long shut up in his towering supremacy, seeing her, a patient gentle creature, in the path below it, to have any fear of that. Shaken as he is by his disgrace, he is not yet humbled to the level earth. The root is broad and deep, and in the course of years its fibres have spread out and gathered nourishment from everything around it. The tree is struck, but not down.
Though he hide the world within him from the world without - which he believes has but one purpose for the time, and that, to watch him eagerly wherever he goes - he cannot hide those rebel traces of it, which escape in hollow eyes and cheeks, a haggard forehead, and a moody, brooding air. Impenetrable as before, he is still an altered man; and, proud as ever, he is humbled, or those marks would not be there.
The world. What the world thinks of him, how it looks at him, what it sees in him, and what it says - this is the haunting demon of his mind. It is everywhere where he is; and, worse than that, it is everywhere where he is not. It comes out with him among his servants, and yet he leaves it whispering behind; he sees it pointing after him in the street; it is waiting for him in his counting-house; it leers over the shoulders of rich men among the merchants; it goes beckoning and babbling among the crowd; it always anticipates him, in every place; and is always busiest, he knows, when he has gone away. When he is shut up in his room at night, it is in his house, outside it, audible in footsteps on the pavement, visible in print upon the table, steaming to and fro on railroads and in ships; restless and busy everywhere, with nothing else but him.
It is not a phantom of his imagination. It is as active in other people's minds as in his. Witness Cousin Feenix, who comes from Baden-Baden, purposely to talk to him. Witness Major Bagstock, who accompanies Cousin Feenix on that friendly mission.
Mr Dombey receives them with his usual dignity, and stands erect, in his old attitude, before the fire. He feels that the world is looking at him out of their eyes. That it is in the stare of the pictures. That Mr Pitt, upon the bookcase, represents it. That there are eyes in its own map, hanging on the wall.
'An unusually cold spring,' says Mr Dombey - to deceive the world.
'Damme, Sir,' says the Major, in the warmth of friendship, 'Joseph Bagstock is a bad hand at a counterfeit. If you want to hold your friends off, Dombey, and to give them the cold shoulder, J. B. is not the man for your purpose. Joe is rough and tough, Sir; blunt, Sir, blunt, is Joe. His Royal Highness the late Duke of York did me the honour to say, deservedly or undeservedly - never mind that - "If there is a man in the service on whom I can depend for coming to the point, that man is Joe - Joe Bagstock."'
Mr Dombey intimates his acquiescence.
'Now, Dombey,' says the Major, 'I am a man of the world. Our friend Feenix - if I may presume to - '
'Honoured, I am sure,' says Cousin Feenix.
' - is,' proceeds the Major, with a wag of his head, 'also a man of the world. Dombey, you are a man of the world. Now, when three men of the world meet together, and are friends - as I believe - ' again appealing to Cousin Feenix.
'I am sure,' says Cousin Feenix, 'most friendly.'
' - and are friends,' resumes the Major, 'Old Joe's opinion is (I may be wrong), that the opinion of the world on any particular subject, is very easily got at.
'Undoubtedly,' says Cousin Feenix. 'In point of fact, it's quite a self-evident sort of thing. I am extremely anxious, Major, that my friend Dombey should hear me express my very great astonishment and regret, that my lovely and accomplished relative, who was possessed of every qualification to make a man happy, should have so far forgotten what was due to - in point of fact, to the world - as to commit herself in such a very extraordinary manner. I have been in a devilish state of depression ever since; and said indeed to Long Saxby last night - man of six foot ten, with whom my friend Dombey is probably acquainted - that it had upset me in a confounded way, and made me bilious. It induces a man to reflect, this kind of fatal catastrophe,' says Cousin Feenix, 'that events do occur in quite a providential manner; for if my Aunt had been living at the time, I think the effect upon a devilish lively woman like herself, would have been prostration, and that she would have fallen, in point of fact, a victim.'
'Now, Dombey! - ' says the Major, resuming his discourse with great energy.
'I beg your pardon,' interposes Cousin Feenix. 'Allow me another word. My friend Dombey will permit me to say, that if any circumstance could have added to the most infernal state of pain in which I find myself on this occasion, it would be the natural amazement of the world at my lovely and accomplished relative (as I must still beg leave to call her) being supposed to have so committed herself with a person - man with white teeth, in point of fact - of very inferior station to her husband. But while I must, rather peremptorily, request my friend Dombey not to criminate my lovely and accomplished relative until her criminality is perfectly established, I beg to assure my friend Dombey that the family I represent, and which is now almost extinct (devilish sad reflection for a man), will interpose no obstacle in his way, and will be happy to assent to any honourable course of proceeding, with a view to the future, that he may point out. I trust my friend Dombey will give me credit for the intentions by which I am animated in this very melancholy affair, and - a - in point of fact, I am not aware that I need trouble my friend Dombey with any further observations.'
Mr Dombey bows, without raising his eyes, and is silent.
'Now, Dombey,' says the Major, 'our friend Feenix having, with an amount of eloquence that Old Joe B. has never heard surpassed - no, by the Lord, Sir! never!' - says the Major, very blue, indeed, and grasping his cane in the middle - 'stated the case as regards the lady, I shall presume upon our friendship, Dombey, to offer a word on another aspect of it. Sir,' says the Major, with the horse's cough, 'the world in these things has opinions, which must be satisfied.'
'I know it,' rejoins Mr Dombey.
'Of course you know it, Dombey,' says the Major, 'Damme, Sir, I know you know it. A man of your calibre is not likely to be ignorant of it.'
'I hope not,' replies Mr Dombey.
'Dombey!' says the Major, 'you will guess the rest. I speak out - prematurely, perhaps - because the Bagstock breed have always spoke out. Little, Sir, have they ever got by doing it; but it's in the Bagstock blood. A shot is to be taken at this man. You have J. B. at your elbow. He claims the name of friend. God bless you!'
'Major,' returns Mr Dombey, 'I am obliged. I shall put myself in your hands when the time comes. The time not being come, I have forborne to speak to you.'
'Where is the fellow, Dombey?' inquires the Major, after gasping and looking at him, for a minute.
'I don't know.'
'Any intelligence of him?' asks the Major.
'Yes.'
'Dombey, I am rejoiced to hear it,' says the Major. 'I congratulate you.'
'You will excuse - even you, Major,' replies Mr Dombey, 'my entering into any further detail at present. The intelligence is of a singular kind, and singularly obtained. It may turn out to be valueless; it may turn out to be true; I cannot say at present. My explanation must stop here.'
Although this is but a dry reply to the Major's purple enthusiasm, the Major receives it graciously, and is delighted to think that the world has such a fair prospect of soon receiving its due. Cousin Feenix is then presented with his meed of acknowledgment by the husband of his lovely and accomplished relative, and Cousin Feenix and Major Bagstock retire, leaving that husband to the world again, and to ponder at leisure on their representation of its state of mind concerning his affairs, and on its just and reasonable expectations.
But who sits in the housekeeper's room, shedding tears, and talking to Mrs Pipchin in a low tone, with uplifted hands? It is a lady with her face concealed in a very close black bonnet, which appears not to belong to her. It is Miss Tox, who has borrowed this disguise from her servant, and comes from Princess's Place, thus secretly, to revive her old acquaintance with Mrs Pipchin, in order to get certain information of the state of Mr Dombey.
'How does he bear it, my dear creature?' asks Miss Tox.
'Well,' says Mrs Pipchin, in her snappish way, 'he's pretty much as usual.'
'Externally,' suggests Miss Tox 'But what he feels within!'
Mrs Pipchin's hard grey eye looks doubtful as she answers, in three distinct jerks, 'Ah! Perhaps. I suppose so.'
'To tell you my mind, Lucretia,' says Mrs Pipchin; she still calls Miss Tox Lucretia, on account of having made her first experiments in the child-quelling line of business on that lady, when an unfortunate and weazen little girl of tender years; 'to tell you my mind, Lucretia, I think it's a good riddance. I don't want any of your brazen faces here, myself!'
'Brazen indeed! Well may you say brazen, Mrs Pipchin!' returned Miss Tox. 'To leave him! Such a noble figure of a man!' And here Miss Tox is overcome.
'I don't know about noble, I'm sure,' observes Mrs Pipchin; irascibly rubbing her nose. 'But I know this - that when people meet with trials, they must bear 'em. Hoity, toity! I have had enough to bear myself, in my time! What a fuss there is! She's gone, and well got rid of. Nobody wants her back, I should think!' This hint of the Peruvian Mines, causes Miss Tox to rise to go away; when Mrs Pipchin rings the bell for Towlinson to show her out, Mr Towlinson, not having seen Miss Tox for ages, grins, and hopes she's well; observing that he didn't know her at first, in that bonnet.
'Pretty well, Towlinson, I thank you,' says Miss Tox. 'I beg you'll have the goodness, when you happen to see me here, not to mention it. My visits are merely to Mrs Pipchin.'
'Very good, Miss,' says Towlinson.
'Shocking circumstances occur, Towlinson,' says Miss Tox.
'Very much so indeed, Miss,' rejoins Towlinson.
'I hope, Towlinson,' says Miss Tox, who, in her instruction of the Toodle family, has acquired an admonitorial tone, and a habit of improving passing occasions, 'that what has happened here, will be a warning to you, Towlinson.'
'Thank you, Miss, I'm sure,' says Towlinson.
He appears to be falling into a consideration of the manner in which this warning ought to operate in his particular case, when the vinegary Mrs Pipchin, suddenly stirring him up with a 'What are you doing? Why don't you show the lady to the door?' he ushers Miss Tox forth. As she passes Mr Dombey's room, she shrinks into the inmost depths of the black bonnet, and walks, on tip-toe; and there is not another atom in the world which haunts him so, that feels such sorrow and solicitude about him, as Miss Tox takes out under the black bonnet into the street, and tries to carry home shadowed it from the newly-lighted lamps
But Miss Tox is not a part of Mr Dombey's world. She comes back every evening at dusk; adding clogs and an umbrella to the bonnet on wet nights; and bears the grins of Towlinson, and the huffs and rebuffs of Mrs Pipchin, and all to ask how he does, and how he bears his misfortune: but she has nothing to do with Mr Dombey's world. Exacting and harassing as ever, it goes on without her; and she, a by no means bright or particular star, moves in her little orbit in the corner of another system, and knows it quite well, and comes, and cries, and goes away, and is satisfied. Verily Miss Tox is easier of satisfaction than the world that troubles Mr Dombey so much!
At the Counting House, the clerks discuss the great disaster in all its lights and shades, but chiefly wonder who will get Mr Carker's place. They are generally of opinion that it will be shorn of some of its emoluments, and made uncomfortable by newly-devised checks and restrictions; and those who are beyond all hope of it are quite sure they would rather not have it, and don't at all envy the person for whom it may prove to be reserved. Nothing like the prevailing sensation has existed in the Counting House since Mr Dombey's little son died; but all such excitements there take a social, not to say a jovial turn, and lead to the cultivation of good fellowship. A reconciliation is established on this propitious occasion between the acknowledged wit of the Counting House and an aspiring rival, with whom he has been at deadly feud for months; and a little dinner being proposed, in commemoration of their happily restored amity, takes place at a neighbouring tavern; the wit in the chair; the rival acting as Vice-President. The orations following the removal of the cloth are opened by the Chair, who says, Gentlemen, he can't disguise from himself that this is not a time for private dissensions. Recent occurrences to which he need not more particularly allude, but which have not been altogether without notice in some Sunday Papers,' and in a daily paper which he need not name (here every other member of the company names it in an audible murmur), have caused him to reflect; and he feels that for him and Robinson to have any personal differences at such a moment, would be for ever to deny that good feeling in the general cause, for which he has reason to think and hope that the gentlemen in Dombey's House have always been distinguished. Robinson replies to this like a man and a brother; and one gentleman who has been in the office three years, under continual notice to quit on account of lapses in his arithmetic, appears in a perfectly new light, suddenly bursting out with a thrilling speech, in which he says, May their respected chief never again know the desolation which has fallen on his hearth! and says a great variety of things, beginning with 'May he never again,' which are received with thunders of applause. In short, a most delightful evening is passed, only interrupted by a difference between two juniors, who, quarrelling about the probable amount of Mr Carker's late receipts per annum, defy each other with decanters, and are taken out greatly excited. Soda water is in general request at the office next day, and most of the party deem the bill an imposition.
As to Perch, the messenger, he is in a fair way of being ruined for life. He finds himself again constantly in bars of public-houses, being treated and lying dreadfully. It appears that he met everybody concerned in the late transaction, everywhere, and said to them, 'Sir,' or 'Madam,' as the case was, 'why do you look so pale?' at which each shuddered from head to foot, and said, 'Oh, Perch!' and ran away. Either the consciousness of these enormities, or the reaction consequent on liquor, reduces Mr Perch to an extreme state of low spirits at that hour of the evening when he usually seeks consolation in the society of Mrs Perch at Balls Pond; and Mrs Perch frets a good deal, for she fears his confidence in woman is shaken now, and that he half expects on coming home at night to find her gone off with some Viscount - 'which,' as she observes to an intimate female friend, 'is what these wretches in the form of woman have to answer for, Mrs P. It ain't the harm they do themselves so much as what they reflect upon us, Ma'am; and I see it in Perch's eye.
Mr Dombey's servants are becoming, at the same time, quite dissipated, and unfit for other service. They have hot suppers every night, and 'talk it over' with smoking drinks upon the board. Mr Towlinson is always maudlin after half-past ten, and frequently begs to know whether he didn't say that no good would ever come of living in a corner house? They whisper about Miss Florence, and wonder where she is; but agree that if Mr Dombey don't know, Mrs Dombey does. This brings them to the latter, of whom Cook says, She had a stately way though, hadn't she? But she was too high! They all agree that she was too high, and Mr Towlinson's old flame, the housemaid (who is very virtuous), entreats that you will never talk to her any more about people who hold their heads up, as if the ground wasn't good enough for 'em.
Everything that is said and done about it, except by Mr Dombey, is done in chorus. Mr Dombey and the world are alone together.
'Misses Brown,' urged the tormented Grinder, 'I didn't mean to - Oh, what a thing it is for a cove to get into such a line as this! - I was only careful of talking, Misses Brown, because I always am, on account of his being up to everything; but I might have known it wouldn't have gone any further. I'm sure I'm quite agreeable,' with a wretched face, 'for any little bit of gossip, Misses Brown. Don't go on like this, if you please. Oh, couldn't you have the goodness to put in a word for a miserable cove, here?' said the Grinder, appealing in desperation to the daughter.
'Come, mother, you hear what he says,' she interposed, in her stern voice, and with an impatient action of her head; 'try him once more, and if you fall out with him again, ruin him, if you like, and have done with him.'
Mrs Brown, moved as it seemed by this very tender exhortation, presently began to howl; and softening by degrees, took the apologetic Grinder to her arms, who embraced her with a face of unutterable woe, and like a victim as he was, resumed his former seat, close by the side of his venerable friend, whom he suffered, not without much constrained sweetness of countenance, combating very expressive physiognomical revelations of an opposite character to draw his arm through hers, and keep it there.
'And how's Master, deary dear?' said Mrs Brown, when, sitting in this amicable posture, they had pledged each other.
'Hush! If you'd be so good, Misses Brown, as to speak a little lower,' Rob implored. 'Why, he's pretty well, thank'ee, I suppose.'
'You're not out of place, Robby?' said Mrs Brown, in a wheedling tone.
'Why, I'm not exactly out of place, nor in,' faltered Rob. 'I - I'm still in pay, Misses Brown.'
'And nothing to do, Rob?'
'Nothing particular to do just now, Misses Brown, but to - keep my eyes open, said the Grinder, rolling them in a forlorn way.
'Master abroad, Rob?'
'Oh, for goodness' sake, Misses Brown, couldn't you gossip with a cove about anything else?' cried the Grinder, in a burst of despair.
The impetuous Mrs Brown rising directly, the tortured Grinder detained her, stammering 'Ye-es, Misses Brown, I believe he's abroad. What's she staring at?' he added, in allusion to the daughter, whose eyes were fixed upon the face that now again looked out behind
'Don't mind her, lad,' said the old woman, holding him closer to prevent his turning round. 'It's her way - her way. Tell me, Rob. Did you ever see the lady, deary?'
'Oh, Misses Brown, what lady?' cried the Grinder in a tone of piteous supplication.
'What lady?' she retorted. 'The lady; Mrs Dombey.'
'Yes, I believe I see her once,' replied Rob.
'The night she went away, Robby, eh?' said the old woman in his ear, and taking note of every change in his face. 'Aha! I know it was that night.'
'Well, if you know it was that night, you know, Misses Brown,' replied Rob, 'it's no use putting pinchers into a cove to make him say so.
'Where did they go that night, Rob? Straight away? How did they go? Where did you see her? Did she laugh? Did she cry? Tell me all about it,' cried the old hag, holding him closer yet, patting the hand that was drawn through his arm against her other hand, and searching every line in his face with her bleared eyes. 'Come! Begin! I want to be told all about it. What, Rob, boy! You and me can keep a secret together, eh? We've done so before now. Where did they go first, Rob?'
The wretched Grinder made a gasp, and a pause.
'Are you dumb?' said the old woman, angrily.
'Lord, Misses Brown, no! You expect a cove to be a flash of lightning. I wish I was the electric fluency,' muttered the bewildered Grinder. 'I'd have a shock at somebody, that would settle their business.'
'What do you say?' asked the old woman, with a grin.
'I'm wishing my love to you, Misses Brown,' returned the false Rob, seeking consolation in the glass. 'Where did they go to first was it? Him and her, do you mean?'
'Ah!' said the old woman, eagerly. 'Them two.'
'Why, they didn't go nowhere - not together, I mean,' answered Rob.
The old woman looked at him, as though she had a strong impulse upon her to make another clutch at his head and throat, but was restrained by a certain dogged mystery in his face.
'That was the art of it,' said the reluctant Grinder; 'that's the way nobody saw 'em go, or has been able to say how they did go. They went different ways, I tell you Misses Brown.
'Ay, ay, ay! To meet at an appointed place,' chuckled the old woman, after a moment's silent and keen scrutiny of his face.
'Why, if they weren't a going to meet somewhere, I suppose they might as well have stayed at home, mightn't they, Brown?' returned the unwilling Grinder.
'Well, Rob? Well?' said the old woman, drawing his arm yet tighter through her own, as if, in her eagerness, she were afraid of his slipping away.
'What, haven't we talked enough yet, Misses Brown?' returned the Grinder, who, between his sense of injury, his sense of liquor, and his sense of being on the rack, had become so lachrymose, that at almost every answer he scooped his coats into one or other of his eyes, and uttered an unavailing whine of remonstrance. 'Did she laugh that night, was it? Didn't you ask if she laughed, Misses Brown?'
'Or cried?' added the old woman, nodding assent.
'Neither,' said the Grinder. 'She kept as steady when she and me - oh, I see you will have it out of me, Misses Brown! But take your solemn oath now, that you'll never tell anybody.'
This Mrs Brown very readily did: being naturally Jesuitical; and having no other intention in the matter than that her concealed visitor should hear for himself.
'She kept as steady, then, when she and me went down to Southampton,' said the Grinder, 'as a image. In the morning she was just the same, Misses Brown. And when she went away in the packet before daylight, by herself - me pretending to be her servant, and seeing her safe aboard - she was just the same. Now, are you contented, Misses Brown?'
'No, Rob. Not yet,' answered Mrs Brown, decisively.
'Oh, here's a woman for you!' cried the unfortunate Rob, in an outburst of feeble lamentation over his own helplessness.
'What did you wish to know next, Misses Brown?'
'What became of Master? Where did he go?' she inquired, still holding hIm tight, and looking close into his face, with her sharp eyes.
'Upon my soul, I don't know, Misses Brown,' answered Rob.
'Upon my soul I don't know what he did, nor where he went, nor anything about him I only know what he said to me as a caution to hold my tongue, when we parted; and I tell you this, Misses Brown, as a friend, that sooner than ever repeat a word of what we're saying now, you had better take and shoot yourself, or shut yourself up in this house, and set it a-fire, for there's nothing he wouldn't do, to be revenged upon you. You don't know him half as well as I do, Misses Brown. You're never safe from him, I tell you.'
'Haven't I taken an oath,' retorted the old woman, 'and won't I keep it?'
'Well, I'm sure I hope you will, Misses Brown,' returned Rob, somewhat doubtfully, and not without a latent threatening in his manner. 'For your own sake, quite as much as mine'
He looked at her as he gave her this friendly caution, and emphasized it with a nodding of his head; but finding it uncomfortable to encounter the yellow face with its grotesque action, and the ferret eyes with their keen old wintry gaze, so close to his own, he looked down uneasily and sat skulking in his chair, as if he were trying to bring hImself to a sullen declaration that he would answer no more questions. The old woman, still holding him as before, took this opportunity of raising the forefinger of her right hand, in the air, as a stealthy signal to the concealed observer to give particular attention to what was about to follow.
'Rob,' she said, in her most coaxing tone.
'Good gracious, Misses Brown, what's the matter now?' returned the exasperated Grinder.
'Rob! where did the lady and Master appoint to meet?'
Rob shuffled more and more, and looked up and looked down, and bit his thumb, and dried it on his waistcoat, and finally said, eyeing his tormentor askance, 'How should I know, Misses Brown?'
The old woman held up her finger again, as before, and replying, 'Come, lad! It's no use leading me to that, and there leaving me. I want to know' waited for his answer. Rob, after a discomfited pause, suddenly broke out with, 'How can I pronounce the names of foreign places, Mrs Brown? What an unreasonable woman you are!'
'But you have heard it said, Robby,' she retorted firmly, 'and you know what it sounded like. Come!'
'I never heard it said, Misses Brown,' returned the Grinder.
'Then,' retorted the old woman quickly, 'you have seen it written, and you can spell it.'
Rob, with a petulant exclamation between laughing and crying - for he was penetrated with some admiration of Mrs Brown's cunning, even through this persecution - after some reluctant fumbling in his waistcoat pocket, produced from it a little piece of chalk. The old woman's eyes sparkled when she saw it between his thumb and finger, and hastily clearing a space on the deal table, that he might write the word there, she once more made her signal with a shaking hand.
'Now I tell you beforehand what it is, Misses Brown,' said Rob, 'it's no use asking me anything else. I won't answer anything else; I can't. How long it was to be before they met, or whose plan it was that they was to go away alone, I don't know no more than you do. I don't know any more about it. If I was to tell you how I found out this word, you'd believe that. Shall I tell you, Misses Brown?'
'Yes, Rob.'
'Well then, Misses Brown. The way - now you won't ask any more, you know?' said Rob, turning his eyes, which were now fast getting drowsy and stupid, upon her.
'Not another word,' said Mrs Brown.
'Well then, the way was this. When a certain person left the lady with me, he put a piece of paper with a direction written on it in the lady's hand, saying it was in case she should forget. She wasn't afraid of forgetting, for she tore it up as soon as his back was turned, and when I put up the carriage steps, I shook out one of the pieces - she sprinkled the rest out of the window, I suppose, for there was none there afterwards, though I looked for 'em. There was only one word on it, and that was this, if you must and will know. But remember! You're upon your oath, Misses Brown!'
Mrs Brown knew that, she said. Rob, having nothing more to say, began to chalk, slowly and laboriously, on the table.
'"D,"' the old woman read aloud, when he had formed the letter.
'Will you hold your tongue, Misses Brown?' he exclaimed, covering it with his hand, and turning impatiently upon her. 'I won't have it read out. Be quiet, will you!'
'Then write large, Rob,' she returned, repeating her secret signal; 'for my eyes are not good, even at print.'
Muttering to himself, and returning to his work with an ill will, Rob went on with the word. As he bent his head down, the person for whose information he so unconsciously laboured, moved from the door behind him to within a short stride of his shoulder, and looked eagerly towards the creeping track of his hand upon the table. At the same time, Alice, from her opposite chair, watched it narrowly as it shaped the letters, and repeated each one on her lips as he made it, without articulating it aloud. At the end of every letter her eyes and Mr Dombey's met, as if each of them sought to be confirmed by the other; and thus they both spelt D.I.J.O.N.
'There!' said the Grinder, moistening the palm of his hand hastily, to obliterate the word; and not content with smearing it out, rubbing and planing all trace of it away with his coat-sleeve, until the very colour of the chalk was gone from the table. 'Now, I hope you're contented, Misses Brown!'
The old woman, in token of her being so, released his arm and patted his back; and the Grinder, overcome with mortification, cross-examination, and liquor, folded his arms on the table, laid his head upon them, and fell asleep.
Not until he had been heavily asleep some time, and was snoring roundly, did the old woman turn towards the door where Mr Dombey stood concealed, and beckon him to come through the room, and pass out. Even then, she hovered over Rob, ready to blind him with her hands, or strike his head down, if he should raise it while the secret step was crossing to the door. But though her glance took sharp cognizance of the sleeper, it was sharp too for the waking man; and when he touched her hand with his, and in spite of all his caution, made a chinking, golden sound, it was as bright and greedy as a raven's.
The daughter's dark gaze followed him to the door, and noted well how pale he was, and how his hurried tread indicated that the least delay was an insupportable restraint upon him, and how he was burning to be active and away. As he closed the door behind him, she looked round at her mother. The old woman trotted to her; opened her hand to show what was within; and, tightly closing it again in her jealousy and avarice, whispered:
'What will he do, Ally?'
'Mischief,' said the daughter.
'Murder?' asked the old woman.
'He's a madman, in his wounded pride, and may do that, for anything we can say, or he either.'
Her glance was brighter than her mother's, and the fire that shone in it was fiercer; but her face was colourless, even to her lips
They said no more, but sat apart; the mother communing with her money; the daughter with her thoughts; the glance of each, shining in the gloom of the feebly lighted room. Rob slept and snored. The disregarded parrot only was in action. It twisted and pulled at the wires of its cage, with its crooked beak, and crawled up to the dome, and along its roof like a fly, and down again head foremost, and shook, and bit, and rattled at every slender bar, as if it knew its master's danger, and was wild to force a passage out, and fly away to warn him of it.
善良的布朗太太和她的女儿艾丽斯两个人一起默默无言地坐在她们自己的住所中。这是暮春季节，黄昏刚刚降临。董贝先生跟白格斯托克少校说到他用奇怪的方式得到的奇怪的消息也许毫无价值，但也许是真实的，从那时以来，才过去几天；上流社会仍然没有得到满足。
母亲和女儿长久地坐在那里，没有交谈过一句话，几乎身子也没有动过。老太婆的脸上露出狡猾的、焦急的与期待的神色；女儿的脸上也露出期待的神色，只是在程度上不那么强烈，有时仿佛由于逐渐感到失望与怀疑的缘故，脸色阴沉下来。老太婆虽然不时朝她脸上看看，但并没有注意到她表情上的这些变化，她坐在那里嘟囔着，大声咀嚼着，并满怀信心地倾听着。
她们的住所虽然简陋、可怜，但毕竟不像布朗太太独自居住的时候那样极端的破旧、肮脏；房间已被稍稍收拾过，虽然收拾得马虎、潦草，就像吉普赛人那样，但显然是想让它干净一些，有条理一些；只要看一眼，就可以知道，这些都是那位年轻女人干的。当两人保持着沉默的时候，暮色愈来愈浓，愈来愈深，最后，发黑的墙壁几乎已隐没在一片幽暗之中。
这时候，艾丽斯打破了持续长久的沉默，说道：
“你别等他了，妈妈。他不会到这里来的。”
“我才不死心！”老太婆不耐烦地回答道。“他•会来的。”
“我们瞧吧，”艾丽斯说道。
“我们将会看见•他，”母亲回答道。
“在世界末日，”女儿说道。
“我知道，你以为我又成了不懂事的孩子了！”老太婆用哭丧的说道。“这就是我从我亲生女儿那里得到的尊敬与孝顺，可是我要比你想的聪明一些。他会来的。那天我在街上碰到他的外衣的时候，他回过头来看我，仿佛我是只癞蛤蟆似的。可是我的天主，当我说起他们的名字，问他是不是想查出他们在哪里的时候，你看他那副脸色呀！”
“是不是很生气？”她的女儿问道，一下子产生了兴趣。
“生气？你最好还是问他是不是火冒三丈。用这个词儿来说还差不离。生气？哈哈！那副脸色还能仅仅说是生气吗！”老太婆一拐一拐地走到碗柜跟前，点了一支蜡烛；当她把它拿到桌子上来的时候，烛光把她嘴巴难看的动作照得清清楚楚。“如果能那样说的话，那么我也可以把你想到或说到他们时的脸色说成仅仅是生气了。”
确实，当艾丽斯像一只蹲伏着的母老虎那样安静地坐在那里，眼睛里冒着火星的时候，她的脸色是跟生气有些不相同的。
“听！”老太婆得意地说道。“我听到走来的脚步声。这不是附近居民或常走这条路的人的步子。我们不是那样走的。要有这样的邻居，我们可真要感到自豪了！你听到他了吗？”“我想你是对的，妈妈，”艾丽斯低声回答道。“别说话了！
去开门。”
当老太婆披上披肩、紧紧地裹住身子的时候，她照她女儿的话去做了；她往门外探望了一下，招了招手，让董贝先生进来。董贝先生刚把一只脚伸进门槛，就站住了，并怀疑地向四下里瞧瞧。
“对像您阁下这样尊贵的先生来说，这是个可怜的地方，”老太婆行着屈膝礼，唠唠叨叨地说道，“这我已告诉过您了，不过这里没有任何危险。”
“她是谁？”董贝先生看着她同屋里的人，问道。
“这是我漂亮的女儿，”老太婆说道。“您阁下不要去管她。
这件事她全都知道。”
他的脸上罩上了一层阴影；如果他大声哼叫道，“谁还不全知道！”那么也不会比那层阴影所表露的意思更清楚；但是他凝视着她，她则望着他，没有向他表示任何问候。
当他的视线从她脸上移开的时候，他脸上的阴影更阴暗了；可是就是在这之后，他还是偷偷地又转回眼睛去看她，仿佛她的大胆的眼光吸引了他，勾引起他的一些什么回忆似的。
“女人！”董贝先生对丑老婆子说道，那丑老婆子在他身边吃吃地笑着，并斜眼看着；当他转过身子对着她的时候，她偷偷地指着她的女儿，搓着手，又重新指着她。“女人！我相信，我到这里来是表现了我的软弱，而且忘掉了我的身份；但是你知道，我是为什么到这里来的；还有，你那天在街上拦住我的时候，向我提出了什么建议。我想要知道的问题，你究竟有什么要对我说的？当我运用了我的权势和钱财，却徒劳无益，依然得不到消息的时候，却有人自愿到这样一所简陋的茅屋里来向我通风报信，这又是怎么一回事？”他轻蔑地向四周看了一眼，“我想，”他沉默了一会儿，并在这段时间里严厉地观察了她之后，继续说道，“你不至于放肆到竟来开我的玩笑，或者想来欺骗我吧。不过如果你有这种意图的话，那么你最好一开始就放弃它。我不是个随便让人开玩笑的人，我的惩罚将是严厉的。”
“啊，多么高傲、冷酷的先生！”老太婆摇着头，搓着布满皱纹的手，并吃吃地笑着，说道，“啊，冷酷哪，冷酷哪，冷酷哪！可是您阁下将亲耳听到，亲眼看到，而不是通过我们的耳朵和眼睛——可是如果向您阁下指出寻找他们的线索的话，那么您将不会拒绝支付一点儿报酬吧，是不是的，尊敬的先生？”
“我知道，金钱会创造奇迹，”董贝先生回答道，他显然由于她提出这个问题而感到宽慰和放心，“它能把像这样一些出乎意料之外、似乎没有什么希望的手段也利用起来。好的。对于我所收到的任何可靠的情报，我都将支付报酬。但是，我必须首先得到情报，然后再由我来判断它的价值。”
“您不知道有比金钱更有力量的东西吗？”年轻的女人问道；她没有站起身来，也没有改变她的姿势。
“我想这里没有，”董贝先生说道。
“照我看来，您应当知道在别的地方有更有力量的东西，”
她回答道，“您知道女人的愤怒吗？”
“你的嘴不懂礼貌，轻佻的女人，”董贝先生说道。
“不是经常这样，”她不动任何感情地回答道，“我现在对您说，是为了使您能更好地了解我们，更加信任我们。一个女人的愤怒在这里就跟在您豪华的公馆里一样。我愤怒。我已经愤怒了好多年。我的愤怒就像您的愤怒一样，具有充足的理由。我们两人愤怒的对象是同一个人。”
他不由自主地吃了一惊，诧异地看着她。
“是的，”她冷笑了一下，说道。“虽然我们之间的距离很大，然而实际情况却就是这样。为什么会发生这种情况，这是无关紧要的；这涉及我的经历，我不打算去谈它。我将愿意把您和他带到一起，因为我痛恨他。我的母亲是贪婪和穷苦的；为了钱，她会出卖她能探听到的任何消息，她会出卖任何东西，任何人。如果她能帮助您知道您想要知道的消息，您就给她一点报酬，这也许是很公平合理的。但这不是我的动机、我已经告诉您，我的动机是什么；对我来说，这个动机是强烈的，本身就已足够的；即使您跟她为了六便士讨价还价，争执不休，我也不会放弃。我已说完了我想说的一切。我这不懂礼貌的嘴不再说什么了，哪怕您在这里等到明天太阳升起我也不说了。”
老太婆在她女儿讲话的时候，表露出极大的不安，因为它有使她期望得到的利益贬值的趋向。她轻轻地拉着董贝先生的袖子，低声对他说，别去理会她。他形容憔悴，轮流地看着她们两人，并用一种比平时更深沉的说道：
“继续说下去吧，你们知道什么？”
“哦，没有这么快，阁下！我们必须等一个人来，”老太婆回答道。“必须从另一个人那里得到这消息——从他那里慢慢探听出来——用厉害的手段逼他说出来和绕着弯儿把他的话哄骗出来。”
“你这话是什么意思？”董贝先生问道。
“耐心一点！”她用乌鸦般哭丧的说道，一边把一只手像爪子似地搁在他的胳膊上。“耐心一点！我会得到它的。我知道我能得到的！如果他想瞒住我的话，”善良的布朗太太弯起十只手指，说道，“那么我将把它从他嘴巴里掏出来！”
她一拐一拐地走到门口，又向外面看看，董贝先生的眼光一直跟随着她，然后他的眼光转向她的女儿；但是她仍旧冷淡、沉默，不理会他。
“女人，你是不是想跟我说，”当弯腰曲背的布朗太太摇着头，一边喋喋不休地自言自语着走回来的时候，他说道，“还有一个人要到这里来，我们正等着他？”
“是的，”老太婆仰起头来望着他的脸，点点头，说道。
“你打算从他那里探听出对我有用的消息吗？”
“是的，”老太婆又点点头，说道。
“一个我不认识的人？”
“咄！”老太婆尖声地大笑了一声，说道。“这有什么关系呢！唔，唔，不是您不认识的人。可是他将不跟您见面。要是见了您，他将会害怕，不肯说出来。您将站在门后面，由您自己来判断他讲的话，我们并不要求您不加考察地就相信我们。怎么！您阁下对门后面的房间怀疑吗？啊！你们这些有钱的先生真是多疑呀！那就请去看看它吧。”
她的敏锐的眼睛已经觉察出他在脸上无意间表露出来的这种神情，在当前的情况下这也是很自然的。为了消除他的怀疑，让他放心，她就拿着蜡烛走到她所说的门口。董贝先生往里看了看，看清那是个空空的、破烂的房间，于是做了个手势，要她把蜡烛拿回到原来的地方去。
“这个人多久才来？”他问道。
“不会多久，”她回答道。“您阁下是不是请坐几分钟？”
他没有回答；但开始以犹豫不决的神态在房间里来回踱起步子来，仿佛他打不定主意，究竟是留在这里呢还是离开这里，又仿佛他在心中责怪自己，根本不该到这里来。但是不久他的步子愈来愈慢，愈来愈重，他的脸上愈来愈显出严峻的、沉思的神色，因为他来到这里的目的又重新占据他的心头，并在那里扩展开来。
当他低垂着眼睛，这样走来走去的时候，布朗太太又坐到刚才她站起来去迎接他的那张椅子中，重新倾听着。他那单调的脚步声，或者是她那无法说准的年龄，使她的听觉变得十分迟钝，因此门外的脚步声几秒钟以前就已传入她的女儿的耳朵里，她已急忙抬起头来提醒她母亲注意它已临近了，老太婆这才被它惊醒过来；但在这之后她立即从坐位中跳了起来，低声说了句“他来了！”，就急急忙忙把他的客人推到他的观察哨位上去，然后手脚十分麻利地在桌子上摆了一瓶酒和一只杯子，因此当磨工罗布一在门口出现的时候，她就能立刻伸出胳膊，搂住他的脖子。
“我的好孩子终于来啦！”布朗太太喊道，“哦嗬，哦嗬！
你就像我亲生的儿子一样，罗贝！”
“啊，布朗太太！”磨工抗议道。“别这样！您喜欢一个小伙子，难道就非得把他抱得这么紧，并掐住他的脖子不成？请您留心我手里的鸟笼子，好不好？”
“他心里就只想着鸟笼子，而没有想到我！”老太婆对着天花板喊道。“而我比他的亲妈妈还疼他！”
“唔，说真的，我很感谢您，布朗太太，”不幸的年轻人十分恼火地说道；“可是您对一个小伙子太妒嫉了！当然我是很喜欢您的，可是我并没有掐过您的脖子，让您透不过气来呀，是不是，布朗太太？”
他讲这些话的时候，脸上露出的神色却仿佛是，如果真有这样一个有利的机会的话，那么他是决不会反对这样做的。
“您也谈到了鸟笼子！”磨工呜咽着说道，“仿佛这是桩罪恶似的！喂，您看这里！您知道这是属于谁的？”
“属于您的主人，是不是，亲爱的？”老太婆咧开嘴笑着说道。
“是的，”磨工回答道，一边把一只用包袱牢牢包扎起来的大鸟笼子提到桌子上，用牙齿和手去解开它。“这是我们的鹦鹉。”
“卡克先生的鹦鹉吗，罗布？”
“您住嘴好不好，布朗太太？”被惹得生气的磨工回答道。
“您为什么要指名道姓？”罗布说道，他在恼怒之中用双手拽着他的头发，“她非把一个小伙子逼疯不可！”
“什么！你责骂起我来了，你这个忘恩负义的孩子！”老太婆立即发怒地喊道。
“哎呀，布朗太太，别这样！”磨工眼中含着泪水，回答道。“谁在什么时候见过这样的——！我不是非常喜欢您吗，布朗太太？”
“是吗，亲爱的罗布？真是这样吗？我的小宝贝？”布朗太太一边说，一边又亲热地拥抱他，直到他用腿作了好多次激烈的、无效的挣扎、头发都一根根竖立起来以后，她才放开了他。
“哎呀！”磨工哼叫着，“真糟糕，心里喜爱，就这么使劲。
我真但愿她——您这一向好吗，布朗太太？”
“啊！你已有一个星期没有到这里来过了！”老太婆用责备的眼光看着他，说道。
“哎呀，布朗太太，”磨工回答道，“一个星期以前的晚上我对您说过，我今天晚上将到这里来，我是不是这样说过？现在我在这里了。您怎么还纠缠不休！我希望您稍稍讲道理一些，布朗太太。我为了给自己辩护，嗓子都讲嘶哑了，我的脸也被您抱得发出亮光来了。”他用袖子使劲地擦着脸，仿佛想把他讲到的亮光给擦去似的。
“喝一点儿，安慰安慰你自己吧，我的罗宾，”老太婆从瓶里倒出一杯，递给他，说道：
“谢谢您，布朗太太，”磨工回答道。“祝您健康！祝您长寿！等等。”从他脸上的表情来看，这并不是他最好的祝愿。
“现在祝她健康，”磨工向艾丽斯看了一眼，说道；他觉得，她的眼睛正凝视着他身后的墙壁，但实际上却是凝视着站在门后的董贝先生的脸，“并同样祝她长寿，以及许多其他等等的好事。”
他致了这两次祝酒词以后，把酒喝干了，然后把杯子放在桌子上。
“唔，我说，布朗太太！”他继续说道。“现在您得稍稍讲道理一些。您是鸟儿的行家，懂得它们的生活习惯，而我是付出了代价才懂得的。”
“代价！”布朗太太重复道。
“我是想说，使自己称心满意，”磨工回答道。“您为什么要打断一个小伙子的话头呢，布朗太太！您已经使一切东西都从我脑子里跑走了。”
“你刚才说到我是鸟儿的行家，罗贝，”老太婆提示道。
“啊，对了！”磨工说道。“我现在得照料这只鹦鹉——现在有些东西正在卖掉，有些产业不经营了，我现在没工夫去照料这鹦鹉，我希望您能照料它一个星期左右，喂养它，给它一个住处，您愿意吗？如果我必须来来回回到这里来的话，”罗布垂头丧气地沉思着，说道，“那么我也许是为了什么目的到这里来的。”
“为了什么目的到这里来？”老太婆高声叫道。
“我是想说，不光是为了来看您，布朗太太，”胆怯的罗布回答道，“其实，这并不是说，除了您本人以外，我还需要有到这里来的其他动机，布朗太太。请行行好，别再开始谈这了。”
“他不关心我！他不像我关心他那样关心我！”布朗太太举起皮包骨头的手，喊道，“但是我却要关心他的鸟。”
“您知道，您得好好地关心它才是，布朗太太，”罗布摇摇头，说道，“如果您弄伤了它的羽毛，哪怕弄伤了一次，我相信都是会被发觉的。”
“啊，他的眼睛那么敏锐吗，罗布！”布朗太太迅速地说道。
“敏锐，布朗太太，”罗布重复说道。“但是不能谈这一点。”
罗布突然停住不说，胆战心惊地向四周看了一眼，又把杯子倒满了，慢慢地把它喝干以后，摇摇头，开始用指头在鹦鹉笼子的金属丝上划着，想从刚刚提到的危险的话题上转开。
老太婆狡猾地注视着他，把她的椅子向他的椅子拉近一些，往笼子里看着鹦鹉（它听了她的呼唤，从镀金的圆形笼顶中走了下来），问道：
“你现在失业了吗，罗布？”
“这不关您的事，布朗太太，”罗布简短地回答道。
“也许你现在只领只够吃饭住宿的工资吧，罗布？”布朗太太问道。
“漂亮的鹦鹉！”磨工说道。
老太婆向他飞快地看了一眼，这本来可以警告他，他的耳朵已处于危险中了。可是现在轮到他往笼子里看着鹦鹉。虽然他可能生动地想象出她的怒容，但是他的肉眼却没有看见它。
“我觉得奇怪，你的主人竟没有带你跟他一起走，罗布，”老太婆用甜言蜜语的问道，但是她的脸色却变得更加怨恨了。
罗布专心一意地注视着鹦鹉，并用指头拨弄着金属丝，所以什么也没有回答。
他向桌子弯着身子，老太婆的手几乎就要抓到他蓬乱的头发了，可是她抑制住自己的手指，用一种由于想尽力讨取欢心而竟说不出话来的，说道：
“罗贝，我的孩子。”
“唔，布朗太太，”磨工回答道。
“我说，我觉得奇怪，你的主人竟没有带你跟他一起走，亲爱的。”
“这不关您的事，布朗太太，”磨工回答道。
布朗太太立即用右手揪住他的头发，左手卡住他的喉咙，勃然大怒地抓住了她宠爱的对象，使得他的脸色一下子发青了。
“布朗太太！”磨工高声喊道，“放开我，听见没有？您在干什么？帮帮我，年轻的女人！布朗太——布——！”
可是年轻的女人听到他向她直接发出的呼吁和他发音不清的话语，跟先前一样不动声色，继续保持完全中立，直到罗布跟他的对手挣扎搏斗之后，退到一个角落里，才脱了身，站在那里，喘着气，用胳膊肘防护着自己；老太婆也喘着气，又气又急地跺着脚，看来正在积蓄精力，以便重新向他猛扑过去。在这紧急关头，艾丽斯插进来说话，但却不是对磨工有利的。
“干得好，妈妈。把他撕得粉碎！”
“怎么，年轻的女人！”罗布哇哇地哭着说道；“您也反对我吗？我做了什么事啦？我想知道，为什么要把我撕得粉碎？一个小伙子从来没有伤害过你们两人当中任何一位，你们为什么要把他掐得气都透不过来？你们还有脸称自己是妇女呢！”恐惧与苦恼的磨工用袖口擦着眼睛，说道，“你们真叫我吃惊！你们妇女的温柔到哪里去了？”
“你这条忘恩负义的狗！”布朗太太气喘吁吁地说道。“你这条不要脸的、无礼的狗！”
“我干了什么事，冒犯了您什么啦，布朗太太？”害怕的罗布反驳道。“一分钟以前您还很喜欢我呢。”
“三言两语、爱理不理的回答，绷着面孔、很不高兴的讲话，你想用这来顶撞我，堵住我的嘴，”老太婆说道。“我！就因为我对他主人和那位夫人的一些传闻感到好奇，他竟胆敢对我耍滑头！可是我不打算跟你再谈什么了，我的孩子。现在走吧！”
“说实在的，布朗太太，”悲惨可怜的磨工回答道，“我从没有暗示过我想走。布朗太太，请别那么说吧。”
“我什么话都不说了，”布朗太太说道，一边把她弯曲的手指动了动，使得他在角落里蜷缩得只及原先体积的一半大小。“我不再跟他讲一个字。他是一条忘恩负义的狗。我跟他断绝关系。现在让他走吧！我将唆使那些能说会道、能痛骂他的人，那些他没法子摆脱的人，那些像蚂蟥一般叮住他不放的人，那些像狐狸一般悄悄跟随在他后面的人来对付他。可不！他知道他们。他明白他过去的把戏和他过去的生活方式。如果他已经把它们忘掉了的话，那么他们很快就会使他记起来。现在让他走吧，有这样一群伙伴来来回回地一直跟着他，看他将怎样去为他的主人效劳，怎样去保守他主人的秘密吧。哈，哈，哈！艾丽，虽然他对你和我把嘴巴封得严严的，滴水不漏，可是他将会发现，他们是跟你和我完全不同的一类人。现在让他走吧，现在让他走吧！”
弯腰曲背的老太婆开始绕着直径为四英尺左右的圈子，一圈一圈地踱起步来，一边不断重复说着这些话，同时在她头顶挥动着拳头，嘴巴在咀嚼着；磨工看到这种情形，感到无法形容的惊愕。
“布朗太太，”罗布从角落里稍稍走出一点，哀求着，“我相信，您平心静气地再想一想以后，是不会伤害一位小伙子的吧，是不是？”
“别跟我说话，”布朗太太继续怒气冲冲地绕着圈子走着，说道，“现在让他走吧，现在让他走吧！”
“布朗太太，”苦恼的磨工苦苦哀求道，“我并不是故意要——啊，何必要让一个小伙子遭受这样的苦难！——我只不过是说话小心谨慎罢了，布朗太太，就像我平时总是小心谨慎的一样，因为他是什么都能查问出来的。说实在的，布朗太太，我是很乐意聊聊天的，可是我必须要知道，它不会从这房间里再传出去才行。”他神色可怜地说道，“请别继续这样说。唉，难道您就不能行个好，给一位小伙子说一句好话吗？”磨工在绝望中向女儿呼吁道。
“喂，妈妈，你听到他的话了吧，”她不耐烦地晃了晃脑袋，用严厉的说道，“再试他一次；如果你跟他再闹翻的话，那么如果你愿意的话，就毁了他，跟他断绝关系。”
布朗太太似乎被这个十分亲切的劝告所打动，立刻开始嚎哭起来，然后逐渐平息下来，用胳膊搂着赔礼道歉的磨工，磨工露出一副难以形容的愁眉苦脸，拥抱了她，然后像一个受害者一样（实际情况也正是这样），重新坐到原先的位子上，紧紧地挨在他的尊敬的朋友的身旁，极为勉强地装出一副亲热的面容，但却十分明显地流露出绝然相反的感情；他听凭她把他的胳膊拉到她的胳膊里，不再放开。
“主人好吗，亲爱的宝贝？”当他们这样亲睦地坐在一起，已相互祝酒干杯之后，布朗太太问道。
“嘘！请您说得轻一点好不好，布朗太太？”罗布恳求道。
“唔，我想，他很好，谢谢您。”
“这么说你没有失业，罗布？”布朗太太用甜言蜜语的声调问道。
“唔，我不能完全说是失业，也不能说是就业，”罗布支支吾吾地说道。“我——我仍旧拿工资呢，布朗太太。”
“没有什么事情做吧，罗布？”
“现在没有什么特别的事情做，布朗太太，只不过是——
张开眼睛看看罢了，”磨工可怜地转了转眼睛。
“主人到国外去了吗，罗布？”
“哎呀，请做做好事吧，布朗太太，难道您跟一位小伙子不能聊点儿别的吗？”磨工突然绝望地喊道。
急躁的布朗太太立刻站起身来；被折磨的磨工拦住她，结结巴巴地说道，“是的，是的，布朗太太，我想他是在国外。她瞪着眼睛在看什么呀？”他最后一句话是指布朗太太的女儿说的；她的眼睛正凝视着站在他背后、现在又往外看的那张脸孔。
“别管她，孩子，”老太婆说道，一边把他往身边拉得更近一些，以防他转过头去看。“那是她的习惯——她的习惯。
告诉我，罗布。你看见过那位夫人吗，亲爱的？”
“哎呀，布朗太太，哪位夫人呀？”罗布用一种乞求怜悯的声调喊道。
“哪位夫人？”她反问道。“那位夫人；董贝夫人。”
“看见过，我想我看见过她一次，”罗布回答道。
“她是在那天夜里走的，是不是，罗布？”老太婆凑近他的耳朵，说道，同时密切注视着他脸上的各种变化。“哎嘿！
我知道是在那天夜里。”
“唔，如果您知道是在那天夜里，布朗太太，”罗布回答道，“那又何必要用钳子桶进一个小伙子的嘴巴里，逼着他说出这些话来呢？”
“那天夜里他们往哪里去了，罗布？直接去国外了？他们怎样去的？你在哪里看到她的？她笑了吗？她哭了吗？把一切都告诉我。”丑老婆子喊道，一边把他往身边拉得更近一些，同时把她伸进他胳膊里的那只手轻轻拍打着她另一只手，并用模糊的眼睛注视着他脸上的每一个特征。“喂，开始讲吧。我要求你把一切统统告诉我。罗布，我的孩子！你和我能共同保守秘密的，是不是？以前我们就这样保守过。他们首先往哪里去了，罗布？”
可怜的磨工喘了一口气，沉默了一会儿。
“你是哑巴吗？”老太婆发怒地说道。
“我的天主，布朗太太，我不是哑巴！您指望一个小伙子能像闪电一样迅速。我真巴不得我自己是电流，”左右为难的磨工嘟囔道，“这样我就可以往什么人身上冲击一下，使他们立刻完蛋。”
“你说什么？”老太婆咧开嘴巴笑着，问道。
“我正在向您祝愿：我爱您，布朗太太，”虚伪的罗布回答道，一边从酒杯中寻求安慰，“您问他们首先往哪里去，是不是？您是说他和她？”
“是的！”老太婆急切地说道，“他们两人。”
“唔，他们没有往哪里去——我是说，他们不是一起走的，”罗布回答道。
老太婆看着他，仿佛她有一股强烈的冲动，想要再紧紧抓住他的头与喉咙似的，但由于看到他脸上露出一种固执的神秘的神色，她就克制着自己。
“这是策略，”很不愿意的磨工说道，“所以没有什么人看到他们走，也没有什么人能说出他们是怎样走的。我跟您说，他们是从不同的路线走的，布朗太太。”
“是的，是的，是的！这么说，是要到一个约定的地点去相会，”老太婆把他的脸孔默默地、敏锐地观察了一会儿之后，吃吃地笑道。
“可不，如果他们不是到什么地方去相会的话，我想他们干脆就待在家里得了，是不是，布朗太太？”罗布不乐意地回答道。
“唔，后来呢，罗布？后来怎么了？”老太婆把他的胳膊往她自己的胳膊里拉得更紧了一些，仿佛由于心急，她怕他会溜走似的。
“怎么，难道我们还没有谈够吗，布朗太太？”磨工回答道，他由于受委屈的感觉，由于酒的感觉，由于精神上受到难以忍受的折磨的感觉，变得很爱哭；几乎每回答一次话，他都要用衣袖擦擦这只眼睛或那只眼睛，并且低声哭泣着，表示抗议。“您问我她那天夜里笑了没有，是不是，布朗太太？”
“或者哭了没有？”老太婆点点头，补充了一句。
“既没有笑，也没有哭，”磨工说道，“她保持着镇静，当她和我——啊，我看您要把一切都从我这里掏出去了，布朗太太！可是您现在庄严地发个誓吧，您决不会把这告诉任何人。”
布朗太太生性狡猾，所以毫不为难地立刻照办；她唯一的目的只是让她的隐藏着的客人能亲自听到全部情况。
“当她跟我前往南安普敦①的时候，她保持着镇静，就像一座塑像一样。”磨工说道，“早上她完全是这样。布朗太太。当她在天亮之前独自搭乘邮船离开的时候，也完全是这样。我那时装扮成她的仆人送她平安地上了船。现在，您称心满意了吧，布朗太太？”
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①南安普敦（Southampton）：英国港市。
“没有，罗布，还没有，”布朗太太斩钉截铁地说道。
“唉，真难对
Chapter 53
More Intelligence
There were two of the traitor's own blood - his renounced brother and sister - on whom the weight of his guilt rested almost more heavily, at this time, than on the man whom he had so deeply injured. Prying and tormenting as the world was, it did Mr Dombey the service of nerving him to pursuit and revenge. It roused his passion, stung his pride, twisted the one idea of his life into a new shape, and made some gratification of his wrath, the object into which his whole intellectual existence resolved itself. All the stubbornness and implacability of his nature, all its hard impenetrable quality, all its gloom and moroseness, all its exaggerated sense of personal importance, all its jealous disposition to resent the least flaw in the ample recognition of his importance by others, set this way like many streams united into one, and bore him on upon their tide. The most impetuously passionate and violently impulsive of mankind would have been a milder enemy to encounter than the sullen Mr Dombey wrought to this. A wild beast would have been easier turned or soothed than the grave gentleman without a wrinkle in his starched cravat.
But the very intensity of his purpose became almost a substitute for action in it. While he was yet uninformed of the traitor's retreat, it served to divert his mind from his own calamity, and to entertain it with another prospect. The brother and sister of his false favourite had no such relief; everything in their history, past and present, gave his delinquency a more afflicting meaning to them.
The sister may have sometimes sadly thought that if she had remained with him, the companion and friend she had been once, he might have escaped the crime into which he had fallen. If she ever thought so, it was still without regret for what she had done, without the least doubt of her duty, without any pricing or enhancing of her self-devotion. But when this possibility presented itself to the erring and repentant brother, as it sometimes did, it smote upon his heart with such a keen, reproachful touch as he could hardly bear. No idea of retort upon his cruel brother came into his mind. New accusation of himself, fresh inward lamentings over his own unworthiness, and the ruin in which it was at once his consolation and his self-reproach that he did not stand alone, were the sole kind of reflections to which the discovery gave rise in him.
It was on the very same day whose evening set upon the last chapter, and when Mr Dombey's world was busiest with the elopement of his wife, that the window of the room in which the brother and sister sat at their early breakfast, was darkened by the unexpected shadow of a man coming to the little porch: which man was Perch the Messenger.
'I've stepped over from Balls Pond at a early hour,' said Mr Perch, confidentially looking in at the room door, and stopping on the mat to wipe his shoes all round, which had no mud upon them, 'agreeable to my instructions last night. They was, to be sure and bring a note to you, Mr Carker, before you went out in the morning. I should have been here a good hour and a half ago,' said Mr Perch, meekly, 'but fOr the state of health of Mrs P., who I thought I should have lost in the night, I do assure you, five distinct times.'
'Is your wife so ill?' asked Harriet.
'Why, you see,' said Mr Perch, first turning round to shut the door carefully, 'she takes what has happened in our House so much to heart, Miss. Her nerves is so very delicate, you see, and soon unstrung. Not but what the strongest nerves had good need to be shook, I'm sure. You feel it very much yourself, no doubts.
Harriet repressed a sigh, and glanced at her brother.
'I'm sure I feel it myself, in my humble way,' Mr Perch went on to say, with a shake of his head, 'in a manner I couldn't have believed if I hadn't been called upon to undergo. It has almost the effect of drink upon me. I literally feels every morning as if I had been taking more than was good for me over-night.'
Mr Perch's appearance corroborated this recital of his symptoms. There was an air of feverish lassitude about it, that seemed referable to drams; and, which, in fact, might no doubt have been traced to those numerous discoveries of himself in the bars of public-houses, being treated and questioned, which he was in the daily habit of making.
'Therefore I can judge,' said Mr Perch, shaking his head and speaking in a silvery murmur, 'of the feelings of such as is at all peculiarly sitiwated in this most painful rewelation.'
Here Mr Perch waited to be confided in; and receiving no confidence, coughed behind his hand. This leading to nothing, he coughed behind his hat; and that leading to nothing, he put his hat on the ground and sought in his breast pocket for the letter.
'If I rightly recollect, there was no answer,' said Mr Perch, with an affable smile; 'but perhaps you'll be so good as cast your eye over it, Sir.'
John Carker broke the seal, which was Mr Dombey's, and possessing himself of the contents, which were very brief, replied,
'No. No answer is expected.'
'Then I shall wish you good morning, Miss,' said Perch, taking a step toward the door, and hoping, I'm sure, that you'll not permit yourself to be more reduced in mind than you can help, by the late painful rewelation. The Papers,' said Mr Perch, taking two steps back again, and comprehensively addressing both the brother and sister in a whisper of increased mystery, 'is more eager for news of it than you'd suppose possible. One of the Sunday ones, in a blue cloak and a white hat, that had previously offered for to bribe me - need I say with what success? - was dodging about our court last night as late as twenty minutes after eight o'clock. I see him myself, with his eye at the counting-house keyhole, which being patent is impervious. Another one,' said Mr Perch, 'with military frogs, is in the parlour of the King's Arms all the blessed day. I happened, last week, to let a little obserwation fall there, and next morning, which was Sunday, I see it worked up in print, in a most surprising manner.'
Mr Perch resorted to his breast pocket, as if to produce the paragraph but receiving no encouragement, pulled out his beaver gloves, picked up his hat, and took his leave; and before it was high noon, Mr Perch had related to several select audiences at the King's Arms and elsewhere, how Miss Carker, bursting into tears, had caught him by both hands, and said, 'Oh! dear dear Perch, the sight of you is all the comfort I have left!' and how Mr John Carker had said, in an awful voice, 'Perch, I disown him. Never let me hear hIm mentioned as a brother more!'
'Dear John,' said Harriet, when they were left alone, and had remained silent for some few moments. 'There are bad tidings in that letter.'
'Yes. But nothing unexpected,' he replied. 'I saw the writer
yesterday.'
'The writer?'
'Mr Dombey. He passed twice through the Counting House while I was there. I had been able to avoid him before, but of course could not hope to do that long. I know how natural it was that he should regard my presence as something offensive; I felt it must be so, myself.'
'He did not say so?'
'No; he said nothing: but I saw that his glance rested on me for a moment, and I was prepared for what would happen - for what has happened. I am dismissed!'
She looked as little shocked and as hopeful as she could, but it was distressing news, for many reasons.
'"I need not tell you"' said John Carker, reading the letter, '"why your name would henceforth have an unnatural sound, in however remote a connexion with mine, or why the daily sight of anyone who bears it, would be unendurable to me. I have to notify the cessation of all engagements between us, from this date, and to request that no renewal of any communication with me, or my establishment, be ever attempted by you." - Enclosed is an equivalent in money to a generously long notice, and this is my discharge." Heaven knows, Harriet, it is a lenient and considerate one, when we remember all!'
'If it be lenient and considerate to punish you at all, John, for the misdeed of another,' she replied gently, 'yes.'
'We have been an ill-omened race to him,' said John Carker. 'He has reason to shrink from the sound of our name, and to think that there is something cursed and wicked in our blood. I should almost think it too, Harriet, but for you.'
'Brother, don't speak like this. If you have any special reason, as you say you have, and think you have - though I say, No!- to love me, spare me the hearing of such wild mad words!'
He covered his face with both his hands; but soon permitted her, coming near him, to take one in her own.
'After so many years, this parting is a melancholy thing, I know,' said his sister, 'and the cause of it is dreadful to us both. We have to live, too, and must look about us for the means. Well, well! We can do so, undismayed. It is our pride, not our trouble, to strive, John, and to strive together!'
A smile played on her lips, as she kissed his cheek, and entreated him to be of of good cheer.
'Oh, dearest sister! Tied, of your own noble will, to a ruined man! whose reputation is blighted; who has no friend himself, and has driven every friend of yours away!'
'John!' she laid her hand hastily upon his lips, 'for my sake! In remembrance of our long companionship!' He was silent 'Now, let me tell you, dear,' quietly sitting by his side, 'I have, as you have, expected this; and when I have been thinking of it, and fearing that it would happen, and preparing myself for it, as well as I could, I have resolved to tell you, if it should be so, that I have kept a secret from you, and that we have a friend.'
'What's our friend's name, Harriet?' he answered with a sorrowful
smile.
'Indeed, I don't know, but he once made a very earnest protestation to me of his friendship and his wish to serve us: and to this day I believe 'him.'
'Harriet!' exclaimed her wondering brother, 'where does this friend
live?'
'Neither do I know that,' she returned. 'But he knows us both, and our history - all our little history, John. That is the reason why, at his own suggestion, I have kept the secret of his coming, here, from you, lest his acquaintance with it should distress you.
'Here! Has he been here, Harriet?'
'Here, in this room. Once.'
'What kind of man?'
'Not young. "Grey-headed," as he said, "and fast growing greyer." But generous, and frank, and good, I am sure.'
'And only seen once, Harriet?'
'In this room only once,' said his sister, with the slightest and most transient glow upon her cheek; 'but when here, he entreated me to suffer him to see me once a week as he passed by, in token of our being well, and continuing to need nothing at his hands. For I told him, when he proffered us any service he could render - which was the object of his visit - that we needed nothing.'
'And once a week - '
'Once every week since then, and always on the same day, and at the same hour, he his gone past; always on foot; always going in the same direction - towards London; and never pausing longer than to bow to me, and wave his hand cheerfully, as a kind guardian might. He made that promise when he proposed these curious interviews, and has kept it so faithfully and pleasantly, that if I ever felt any trifling uneasiness about them in the beginning (which I don't think I did, John; his manner was so plain and true) It very soon vanished, and left me quite glad when the day was coming. Last Monday - the first since this terrible event - he did not go by; and I have wondered whether his absence can have been in any way connected with what has happened.'
'How?' inquired her brother.
'I don't know how. I have only speculated on the coincidence; I have not tried to account for it. I feel sure he will return. When he does, dear John, let me tell him that I have at last spoken to you, and let me bring you together. He will certainly help us to a new livelihood. His entreaty was that he might do something to smooth my life and yours; and I gave him my promise that if we ever wanted a friend, I would remember him.'
'Then his name was to be no secret, 'Harriet,' said her brother, who had listened with close attention, 'describe this gentleman to me. I surely ought to know one who knows me so well.'
His sister painted, as vividly as she could, the features, stature, and dress of her visitor; but John Carker, either from having no knowledge of the original, or from some fault in her description, or from some abstraction of his thoughts as he walked to and fro, pondering, could not recognise the portrait she presented to him.
However, it was agreed between them that he should see the original when he next appeared. This concluded, the sister applied herself, with a less anxious breast, to her domestic occupations; and the grey-haired man, late Junior of Dombey's, devoted the first day of his unwonted liberty to working in the garden.
It was quite late at night, and the brother was reading aloud while the sister plied her needle, when they were interrupted by a knocking at the door. In the atmosphere of vague anxiety and dread that lowered about them in connexion with their fugitive brother, this sound, unusual there, became almost alarming. The brother going to the door, the sister sat and listened timidly. Someone spoke to him, and he replied and seemed surprised; and after a few words, the two approached together.
'Harriet,' said her brother, lighting in their late visitor, and speaking in a low voice, 'Mr Morfin - the gentleman so long in Dombey's House with James.'
His sister started back, as if a ghost had entered. In the doorway stood the unknown friend, with the dark hair sprinkled with grey, the ruddy face, the broad clear brow, and hazel eyes, whose secret she had kept so long!
'John!' she said, half-breathless. 'It is the gentleman I told you of, today!'
'The gentleman, Miss Harriet,' said the visitor, coming in - for he had stopped a moment in the doorway - 'is greatly relieved to hear you say that: he has been devising ways and means, all the way here, of explaining himself, and has been satisfied with none. Mr John, I am not quite a stranger here. You were stricken with astonishment when you saw me at your door just now. I observe you are more astonished at present. Well! That's reasonable enough under existing circumstances. If we were not such creatures of habit as we are, we shouldn't have reason to be astonished half so often.'
By this time, he had greeted Harriet with that able mingling of cordiality and respect which she recollected so well, and had sat down near her, pulled off his gloves, and thrown them into his hat upon the table.
'There's nothing astonishing,' he said, 'in my having conceived a desire to see your sister, Mr John, or in my having gratified it in my own way. As to the regularity of my visits since (which she may have mentioned to you), there is nothing extraordinary in that. They soon grew into a habit; and we are creatures of habit - creatures of habit!'
Putting his hands into his pockets, and leaning back in his chair, he looked at the brother and sister as if it were interesting to him to see them together; and went on to say, with a kind of irritable thoughtfulness:
'It's this same habit that confirms some of us, who are capable of better things, in Lucifer's own pride and stubbornness - that confirms and deepens others of us in villainy - more of us in indifference - that hardens us from day to day, according to the temper of our clay, like images, and leaves us as susceptible as images to new impressions and convictions. You shall judge of its influence on me, John. For more years than I need name, I had my small, and exactly defined share, in the management of Dombey's House, and saw your brother (who has proved himself a scoundrel! Your sister will forgive my being obliged to mention it) extending and extending his influence, until the business and its owner were his football; and saw you toiling at your obscure desk every day; and was quite content to be as little troubled as I might be, out of my own strip of duty, and to let everything about me go on, day by day, unquestioned, like a great machine - that was its habit and mine - and to take it all for granted, and consider it all right. My Wednesday nights came regularly round, our quartette parties came regularly off, my violoncello was in good tune, and there was nothing wrong in my world - or if anything not much - or little or much, it was no affair of mine.'
'I can answer for your being more respected and beloved during all that time than anybody in the House, Sir,' said John Carker.
'Pooh! Good-natured and easy enough, I daresay,'returned the other, 'a habit I had. It suited the Manager; it suited the man he managed: it suited me best of all. I did what was allotted to me to do, made no court to either of them, and was glad to occupy a station in which none was required. So I should have gone on till now, but that my room had a thin wall. You can tell your sister that it was divided from the Manager's room by a wainscot partition.'
'They were adjoining rooms; had been one, Perhaps, originally; and were separated, as Mr Morfin says,' said her brother, looking back to him for the resumption of his explanation.
'I have whistled, hummed tunes, gone accurately through the whole of Beethoven's Sonata in B,' to let him know that I was within hearing,' said Mr Morfin; 'but he never heeded me. It happened seldom enough that I was within hearing of anything of a private nature, certainly. But when I was, and couldn't otherwise avoid knowing something of it, I walked out. I walked out once, John, during a conversation between two brothers, to which, in the beginning, young Walter Gay was a party. But I overheard some of it before I left the room. You remember it sufficiently, perhaps, to tell your sister what its nature was?'
'It referred, Harriet,' said her brother in a low voice, 'to the past, and to our relative positions in the House.'
'Its matter was not new to me, but was presented in a new aspect. It shook me in my habit - the habit of nine-tenths of the world - of believing that all was right about me, because I was used to it,' said their visitor; 'and induced me to recall the history of the two brothers, and to ponder on it. I think it was almost the first time in my life when I fell into this train of reflection - how will many things that are familiar, and quite matters of course to us now, look, when we come to see them from that new and distant point of view which we must all take up, one day or other? I was something less good-natured, as the phrase goes, after that morning, less easy and complacent altogether.'
He sat for a minute or so, drumming with one hand on the table; and resumed in a hurry, as if he were anxious to get rid of his confession.
'Before I knew what to do, or whether I could do anything, there was a second conversation between the same two brothers, in which their sister was mentioned. I had no scruples of conscience in suffering all the waifs and strays of that conversation to float to me as freely as they would. I considered them mine by right. After that, I came here to see the sister for myself. The first time I stopped at the garden gate, I made a pretext of inquiring into the character of a poor neighbour; but I wandered out of that tract, and I think Miss Harriet mistrusted me. The second time I asked leave to come in; came in; and said what I wished to say. Your sister showed me reasons which I dared not dispute, for receiving no assistance from me then; but I established a means of communication between us, which remained unbroken until within these few days, when I was prevented, by important matters that have lately devolved upon me, from maintaining them'
'How little I have suspected this,' said John Carker, 'when I have seen you every day, Sir! If Harriet could have guessed your name - '
'Why, to tell you the truth, John,' interposed the visitor, 'I kept it to myself for two reasons. I don't know that the first might have been binding alone; but one has no business to take credit for good intentions, and I made up my mind, at all events, not to disclose myself until I should be able to do you some real service or other. My second reason was, that I always hoped there might be some lingering possibility of your brother's relenting towards you both; and in that case, I felt that where there was the chance of a man of his suspicious, watchful character, discovering that you had been secretly befriended by me, there was the chance of a new and fatal cause of division. I resolved, to be sure, at the risk of turning his displeasure against myself - which would have been no matter - to watch my opportunity of serving you with the head of the House; but the distractions of death, courtship, marriage, and domestic unhappiness, have left us no head but your brother for this long, long time. And it would have been better for us,' said the visitor, dropping his voice, 'to have been a lifeless trunk.'
He seemed conscious that these latter words had escaped hIm against his will, and stretching out a hand to the brother, and a hand to the sister, continued: 'All I could desire to say, and more, I have now said. All I mean goes beyond words, as I hope you understand and believe. The time has come, John - though most unfortunately and unhappily come - when I may help you without interfering with that redeeming struggle, which has lasted through so many years; since you were discharged from it today by no act of your own. It is late; I need say no more to-night. You will guard the treasure you have here, without advice or reminder from me.'
With these words he rose to go.
'But go you first, John,' he said goodhumouredly, 'with a light, without saying what you want to say, whatever that maybe;' John Carker's heart was full, and he would have relieved it in speech,' if he could; 'and let me have a word with your sister. We have talked alone before, and in this room too; though it looks more natural with you here.'
Following him out with his eyes, he turned kindly to Harriet, and said in a lower voice, and with an altered and graver manner:
'You wish to ask me something of the man whose sister it is your misfortune to be.'
'I dread to ask,' said Harriet.
'You have looked so earnestly at me more than once,' rejoined the visitor, 'that I think I can divine your question. Has he taken money? Is it that?'
'Yes.'
'He has not.'
'I thank Heaven!' said Harriet. 'For the sake of John.'
'That he has abused his trust in many ways,' said Mr Morfin; 'that he has oftener dealt and speculated to advantage for himself, than for the House he represented; that he has led the House on, to prodigious ventures, often resulting in enormous losses; that he has always pampered the vanity and ambition of his employer, when it was his duty to have held them in check, and shown, as it was in his power to do, to what they tended here or there; will not, perhaps, surprise you now. Undertakings have been entered on, to swell the reputation of the House for vast resources, and to exhibit it in magnificent contrast to other merchants' Houses, of which it requires a steady head to contemplate the possibly - a few disastrous changes of affairs might render them the probably - ruinous consequences. In the midst of the many transactions of the House, in most parts of the world: a great labyrinth of which only he has held the clue: he has had the opportunity, and he seems to have used it, of keeping the various results afloat, when ascertained, and substituting estimates and generalities for facts. But latterly - you follow me, Miss Harriet?'
'Perfectly, perfectly,' she answered, with her frightened face fixed on his. 'Pray tell me all the worst at once.
'Latterly, he appears to have devoted the greatest pains to making these results so plain and clear, that reference to the private books enables one to grasp them, numerous and varying as they are, with extraordinary ease. As if he had resolved to show his employer at one broad view what has been brought upon him by ministration to his ruling passion! That it has been his constant practice to minister to that passion basely, and to flatter it corruptly, is indubitable. In that, his criminality, as it is connected with the affairs of the House, chiefly consists.'
'One other word before you leave me, dear Sir,' said Harriet. 'There is no danger in all this?'
'How danger?' he returned, with a little hesitation.
'To the credit of the House?'
'I cannot help answering you plainly, and trusting you completely,' said Mr Morfin, after a moment's survey of her face.
'You may. Indeed you may!'
'I am sure I may. Danger to the House's credit? No; none There may be difficulty, greater or less difficulty, but no danger, unless - unless, indeed - the head of the House, unable to bring his mind to the reduction of its enterprises, and positively refusing to believe that it is, or can be, in any position but the position in which he has always represented it to himself, should urge it beyond its strength. Then it would totter.'
'But there is no apprehension of that?' said Harriet.
'There shall be no half-confidence,' he replied, shaking her hand, 'between us. Mr Dombey is unapproachable by anyone, and his state of mind is haughty, rash, unreasonable, and ungovernable, now. But he is disturbed and agitated now beyond all common bounds, and it may pass. You now know all, both worst and best. No more to-night, and good-night!'
With that he kissed her hand, and, passing out to the door where her brother stood awaiting his coming, put him cheerfully aside when he essayed to speak; told him that, as they would see each other soon and often, he might speak at another time, if he would, but there was no leisure for it then; and went away at a round pace, in order that no word of gratitude might follow him.
The brother and sister sat conversing by the fireside, until it was almost day; made sleepless by this glimpse of the new world that opened before them, and feeling like two people shipwrecked long ago, upon a solitary coast, to whom a ship had come at last, when they were old in resignation, and had lost all thought of any other home. But another and different kind of disquietude kept them waking too. The darkness out of which this light had broken on them gathered around; and the shadow of their guilty brother was in the house where his foot had never trod.
Nor was it to be driven out, nor did it fade before the sun. Next morning it was there; at noon; at night Darkest and most distinct at night, as is now to be told.
John Carker had gone out, in pursuance of a letter of appointment from their friend, and Harriet was left in the house alone. She had been alone some hours. A dull, grave evening, and a deepening twilight, were not favourable to the removal of the oppression on her spirits. The idea of this brother, long unseen and unknown, flitted about her in frightful shapes He was dead, dying, calling to her, staring at her, frowning on her. The pictures in her mind were so obtrusive and exact that, as the twilight deepened, she dreaded to raise her head and look at the dark corners of the room, lest his wraith, the offspring of her excited imagination, should be waiting there, to startle her. Once she had such a fancy of his being in the next room, hiding - though she knew quite well what a distempered fancy it was, and had no belief in it - that she forced herself to go there, for her own conviction. But in vain. The room resumed its shadowy terrors, the moment she left it; and she had no more power to divest herself of these vague impressions of dread, than if they had been stone giants, rooted in the solid earth.
It was almost dark, and she was sitting near the window, with her head upon her hand, looking down, when, sensible of a sudden increase in the gloom of the apartment, she raised her eyes, and uttered an involuntary cry. Close to the glass, a pale scared face gazed in; vacantly, for an instant, as searching for an object; then the eyes rested on herself, and lighted up.
'Let me in! Let me in! I want to speak to you!' and the hand rattled on the glass.
She recognised immediately the woman with the long dark hair, to whom she had given warmth, food, and shelter, one wet night. Naturally afraid of her, remembering her violent behaviour, Harriet, retreating a little from the window, stood undecided and alarmed.
'Let me in! Let me speak to you! I am thankful - quiet - humble - anything you like. But let me speak to you.'
The vehement manner of the entreaty, the earnest expression of the face, the trembling of the two hands that were raised imploringly, a certain dread and terror in the voice akin to her own condition at the moment, prevailed with Harriet. She hastened to the door and opened it.
'May I come in, or shall I speak here?' said the woman, catching at her hand.
'What is it that you want? What is it that you have to say?'
'Not much, but let me say it out, or I shall never say it. I am tempted now to go away. There seem to be hands dragging me from the door. Let me come in, if you can trust me for this once!'
Her energy again prevailed, and they passed into the firelight of the little kitchen, where she had before sat, and ate, and dried her clothes.
'Sit there,' said Alice, kneeling down beside her, 'and look at me. You remember me?'
'I do.'
'You remember what I told you I had been, and where I came from, ragged and lame, with the fierce wind and weather beating on my head?'
'Yes.'
'You know how I came back that night, and threw your money in the dirt, and you and your race. Now, see me here, upon my knees. Am l less earnest now, than I was then?'
'If what you ask,' said Harriet, gently, 'is forgiveness - '
'But it's not!' returned the other, with a proud, fierce look 'What I ask is to be believed. Now you shall judge if I am worthy of belief, both as I was, and as I am.'
Still upon her knees, and with her eyes upon the fire, and the fire shining on her ruined beauty and her wild black hair, one long tress of which she pulled over her shoulder, and wound about her hand, and thoughtfully bit and tore while speaking, she went on:
'When I was young and pretty, and this,' plucking contemptuously at the hair she held, was only handled delicately, and couldn't be admired enough, my mother, who had not been very mindful of me as a child, found out my merits, and was fond of me, and proud of me. She was covetous and poor, and thought to make a sort of property of me. No great lady ever thought that of a daughter yet, I'm sure, or acted as if she did - it's never done, we all know - and that shows that the only instances of mothers bringing up their daughters wrong, and evil coming of it, are among such miserable folks as us.'
Looking at the fire, as if she were forgetful, for the moment, of having any auditor, she continued in a dreamy way, as she wound the long tress of hair tight round and round her hand.
'What came of that, I needn't say. Wretched marriages don't come of such things, in our degree; only wretchedness and ruin. Wretchedness and ruin came on me - came on me.
Raising her eyes swiftly from their moody gaze upon the fire, to Harriet's face, she said:
'I am wasting time, and there is none to spare; yet if I hadn't thought of all, I shouldn't be here now. Wretchedness and ruin came on me, I say. I was made a short-lived toy, and flung aside more cruelly and carelessly than even such things are. By whose hand do you think?'
'Why do you ask me?' said Harriet.
'Why do you tremble?' rejoined Alice, with an eager look. 'His usage made a Devil of me. I sunk in wretchedness and ruin, lower and lower yet. I was concerned in a robbery - in every part of it but the gains - and was found out, and sent to be tried, without a friend, without a penny. Though I was but a girl, I would have gone to Death, sooner than ask him for a word, if a word of his could have saved me. I would! To any death that could have been invented. But my mother, covetous always, sent to him in my name, told the true story of my case, and humbly prayed and petitioned for a small last gift - for not so many pounds as I have fingers on this hand. Who was it, do you think, who snapped his fingers at me in my misery, lying, as he believed, at his feet, and left me without even this poor sign of remembrance; well satisfied that I should be sent abroad, beyond the reach of farther trouble to him, and should die, and rot there? Who was this, do you think?'
'Why do you ask me?' repeated Harriet.
'Why do you tremble?' said Alice, laying her hand upon her arm' and looking in her face, 'but that the answer is on your lips! It was your brother James.
Harriet trembled more and more, but did not avert her eyes from the eager look that rested on them.
'When I knew you were his sister - which was on that night - I came back, weary and lame, to spurn your gift. I felt that night as if I could have travelled, weary and lame, over the whole world, to stab him, if I could have found him in a lonely place with no one near. Do you believe that I was earnest in all that?'
'I do! Good Heaven, why are you come again?'
'Since then,' said Alice, with the same grasp of her arm, and the same look in her face, 'I have seen him! I have followed him with my eyes, In the broad day. If any spark of my resentment slumbered in my bosom, it sprung into a blaze when my eyes rested on him. You know he has wronged a proud man, and made him his deadly enemy. What if I had given information of him to that man?'
'Information!' repeated Harriet.
'What if I had found out one who knew your brother's secret; who knew the manner of his flight, who knew where he and the companion of his flight were gone? What if I had made him utter all his knowledge, word by word, before his enemy, concealed to hear it? What if I had sat by at the time, looking into this enemy's face, and seeing it change till it was scarcely human? What if I had seen him rush away, mad, in pursuit? What if I knew, now, that he was on his road, more fiend than man, and must, in so many hours, come up with him?'
'Remove your hand!' said Harriet, recoiling. 'Go away! Your touch is dreadful to me!'
'I have done this,' pursued the other, with her eager look, regardless of the interruption. 'Do I speak and look as if I really had? Do you believe what I am saying?'
'I fear I must. Let my arm go!'
'Not yet. A moment more. You can think what my revengeful purpose must have been, to last so long, and urge me to do this?'
'Dreadful!' said Harriet.
'Then when you see me now,' said Alice hoarsely, 'here again, kneeling quietly on the ground, with my touch upon your arm, with my eyes upon your face, you may believe that there is no common earnestness in what I say, and that no common struggle has been battling in my breast. I am ashamed to speak the words, but I relent. I despise myself; I have fought with myself all day, and all last night; but I relent towards him without reason, and wish to repair what I have done, if it is possible. I wouldn't have them come together while his pursuer is so blind and headlong. If you had seen him as he went out last night, you would know the danger better.
'How can it be prevented? What can I do?' cried Harriet.
'All night long,' pursued the other, hurriedly, 'I had dreams of him - and yet I didn't sleep - in his blood. All day, I have had him near me.
'What can I do?' cried Harriet, shuddering at these words.
'If there is anyone who'll write, or send, or go to him, let them lose no time. He is at Dijon. Do you know the name, and where it is?'
'Yes.'
'Warn him that the man he has made his enemy is in a frenzy, and that he doesn't know him if he makes light of his approach. Tell him that he is on the road - I know he is! - and hurrying on. Urge him to get away while there is time - if there is time - and not to meet him yet. A month or so will make years of difference. Let them not encounter, through me. Anywhere but there! Any time but now! Let his foe follow him, and find him for himself, but not through me! There is enough upon my head without.'
The fire ceased to be reflected in her jet black hair, uplifted face, and eager eyes; her hand was gone from Harriet's arm; and the place where she had been was empty.
叛逆者的两个亲属——被他抛弃的哥哥和姐姐——这时候比被他伤害了的那个人更沉重地感受到他的罪恶的压力。社会虽然喜爱刺探阴私，折磨人们，但是它却激励董贝先生去追寻和报复他的仇人。它激发他的愤怒，刺痛他的高傲，把他生活的一个观念转变成一种新的形式；解愤息怒就成了他全部思想活动的目的。他的性格中所有那些固执与难以改变的特点，它的所有那些难于接受他人意见的脾气，它的所有那些阴沉与乖戾的特色，它的那种过分自尊自大的意识，它的所有那种容易猜忌的性情（别人对他的重要地位的充分尊重中有一点疏漏都会引起他的愤恨），都像许多溪流一样，沿着这个方向，汇合成了一条大河，载着他沿着潮流前进。最暴躁易怒和感情冲动的人与处于这种状态中的闷闷不乐的董贝先生相比，都显得是一个比较温和的敌人。一头不驯服的野兽也要比这个佩戴着没有一丝皱褶的领带的庄严的绅士更容易阻拦和安抚。
不过他这种强烈的意图本身几乎就可以代替行动。当他还不知道叛逆者躲藏到什么地方的时候，它帮助他转移对他自己不幸的注意，而去思考其他方面的问题。他的奸诈的受他宠信的人的哥哥和姐姐却没有这样的安慰。他们过去的历史和现在的生活中发生的一切事情，使得他的罪行对他们来说有了一种更为痛苦的意义。
姐姐有时可能会悲伤地想到，如果她像过去曾经一度那样，作为他的伴侣和朋友，和他住在一起的话，那么他可能会避免犯下这桩罪行。如果她曾经这样想过的话，那么她仍然没有悔恨过她做过的事情，丝毫没有怀疑过她所尽的责任，也没有评价或夸大过她的自我牺牲精神。可是当犯过错误、感到悔恨的哥哥有时想到有这种可能性的时候，这种想法却重重地打击着他的心，引起他尖锐的自我谴责，使他几乎无法忍受。他从没有对他残酷的弟弟的不幸报复性地感到幸灾乐祸。这一事件暴露以后，在他内心所引起的活动仅仅是重新谴责自己，再一次为他自己过去的卑劣行径默默哀叹；与他共同承受这一厄运的不是他单独一人，这既给他带来安慰，又引起他的自责。
就在我们在上一章叙述过它的晚上的情况的同一天，当董贝先生所属的上流社会正满城风雨地传播着他妻子私奔的消息，哥哥和姐姐正坐在房间里吃早饭的时候，窗外突然闪过一个意料不到的人影，正向小小的门廊里走来，这人就是信差珀奇先生。
“我今天大清早就从鲍尔斯池塘出发到这里来了，”珀奇先生说道，一边带着秘密的神气往房间里面探望，同时在门口的擦鞋棕垫上停下脚步，仔细地擦着鞋子，其实鞋上并没有什么泥土，“这是遵照我在昨天夜里接到的命令。我奉命在您今天早上出门之前一定得把这封短信交给您，卡克先生；要不是珀奇太太身体不好，我本应当在一个半钟头以前就到达这里的，”珀奇先生温顺地说道，“说实在的，这一夜我有五次几乎要失去她。”
“您的太太病得这么厉害吗？”哈里特问道。
“唔，您看，”珀奇先生首先转过身去，把门小心地关上，然后说道，“我们公司里发生的事情她太放在心上了，小姐。您知道，她的神经是很敏感的，所以很快就混乱了。不过，说实在的，只有最坚强的神经才能经受得起这种震惊。毫无疑问，您本人也一定会感到很忧伤的。”
哈里特忍住叹息，向她的弟弟看了一眼。
“说实在的，尽管我是一个微不足道的人物，可是我还是感到很难过，”珀奇先生摇了一下头，继续说道，“如果不是命中注定我得亲身经历这种事情的话，那么就连我自己也难以相信我会这么难过。它对我的影响几乎就像喝酒一样。每天早上我都感到仿佛我在头天夜里喝过了头似的。”
珀奇先生的外貌证实了他所叙述的症状，他有一种由于发烧而引起的倦怠的神色，那似乎都是杯中物所引起的。事实上，追根溯源，是因为他多次去酒吧的缘故。人们在那里款待他，向他问各种问题，他已养成每天都要上酒吧去的习惯。
“所以，”珀奇先生又摇了摇头，用清脆的低语说道，“这件最令人痛苦的事件暴露以后，我不能判断那些处境特殊的人们的感情。”
这时珀奇先生等待着听推心置腹的回答；他没有听到这样的回答，就用手遮着嘴巴咳嗽；这没有引起什么反应，他就用帽子遮着嘴巴咳嗽；这也没有引起什么反应，他就把帽子放在地上，在怀里掏那封信。
“如果我记得不错的话，这是不要求回复的，”珀奇先生露出和蔼可亲的微笑，说道，“不过，也许您肯费神看一遍吧，先生。”
约翰•卡克拆开信封，这是董贝先生的来信，内容十分简短，他看过以后，回答道，“是的，不要求回复。”
“好，那就祝您早上好，小姐，”珀奇往门边走了一步，说道，“同时希望您多多保重，别因为最近这令人痛苦的事件过分悲伤。报纸，”珀奇先生又走回两步，用更为神秘的低语，同时向姐弟两人说话，“急巴巴地想要得到新的消息，急得你们难以想象。有一份星期天出版的报纸派来的人，披着蓝色的斗篷，戴着白色的帽子，（他曾经想用这两件东西来收买我，用不着说，他哪能成功呢？），昨天夜里在我们院子里游来晃去，一直到八点二十分钟才走。我亲眼看见他从我们公司营业所的锁眼里往里面偷看，可是这锁眼是取得专利的，根本看不见里面的东西。还有一个人，”珀奇先生说道，“穿着军装，腰带上有挂武器的圈环，整天都坐在‘国王的纹章’酒馆里；上星期我碰巧在那里无意间讲了一点话，第二天早上（那是个星期天），我看见它在报上令人十分吃惊地登出来了。”
珀奇先生又去掏他怀中的口袋，仿佛想要取出那段新闻来似的，但由于没有得到鼓励，所以就把他的海狸皮手套抽了出来，捡起帽子，离开了。不到正午，珀奇先生就已在‘国王的纹章’和别的地方向几位挑选出来的听众叙述卡克小姐怎样眼泪汪汪，放声大哭，并握着他的手，说道，“啊，亲爱的，亲爱的珀奇，看到您是我唯一的安慰！”约翰•卡克先生则怎样用一种可怕的说道，“珀奇，我和他断绝关系了。永远别再在我面前把他称做我的弟弟了！”
“亲爱的约翰，”当他们只剩下两个人，而且沉默了几分钟之后，哈里特说道，“这封信带来坏消息吧？”
“是的。但是没有什么意料之外的事情，”他回答道，“我昨天看到写信的人。”
“写信的人？”
“董贝先生。当我在营业所里的时候，他两次走过那里。在这之前，我能避免被他看见，但是当然不能希望以后长久都能这样。我知道，在他看来，我在那里是一桩讨厌的事情，这是很自然的。我想，如果我处在他的地位的话，我自己也会那样感觉的。”
“他这样说了没有？”
“没有；他什么也没有说，但是我看到，他的眼光在我身上停留了一会儿；我当时对将会发生的事情（对现在已经发生了的事情）做好了准备。我已经被辞退了。”
她竭力掩饰她的震惊，装出对未来怀有希望的样子，但根据许多理由，这都是令人痛苦的消息。
“‘我不需要向您说明’”约翰•卡克念着信，“‘为什么从今以后我听到您的姓会感到多么刺耳，虽然它和我的姓毫无关系。我也不需要向您说明，为什么每天看到姓这个姓的人是我不能忍受的。我必须通知您，从今天起，我们之间的一切关系就此中断，并请您切勿企图恢复与我或我的公司之间的联系。’信里装了钱，大大超过这时辞退所应得到的数额。我就这样被辞退了。说实在的，哈里特，如果我们回忆起过去一切情形的话，那么我们应当承认，这是一次宽厚的、体谅到我们困难的辞退。”
“如果由于别人的恶劣行为要对你进行惩罚也能说是宽厚的、体谅到我们困难的话，约翰，那么我同意你的意见，”
她温柔地回答道。
“对他来说，我们是一个不吉利的家族，”约翰•卡克说道，“他一听到我们的姓的就感到厌恶，并觉得在我们的血液里有什么该咀咒的和邪恶的东西，他有理由这样想。要不是因为你的话，我也几乎要这样想的呢，哈里特。”
“弟弟，别这样讲。如果像你所说和你所想的那样，你有什么特殊理由爱我的话（可是我却要说，没有这种特殊理由！）
那么就别让我听到这样荒唐的、疯狂的话吧！”
他用双手捂住脸；但不久当她走近他的时候，他容许她把他的一只手拉到她的手里。
“我知道，在经过这么多年之后，这次辞退是一件使人伤心的事情，”他的姐姐说道，“而它的原因对我们两人来说都是可怕的。可是我们必须生活下去，并筹措我们的生活费用。那又有什么了不起呢？我们能做到这一点。别灰心丧气。奋斗下去，约翰，我们一起奋斗下去。我们对这应当感到自豪，而不应当感到苦恼。”
当她吻他的脸颊，请求他高兴起来的时候，她的嘴唇上露出了一丝微笑。
“啊，最亲爱的姐姐！由于你的高尚的意志，你把自己捆绑在一个身败名裂的人的身上！他的声誉扫地，自己没有朋友，还把你所有的朋友也都赶跑了。”
“约翰！”她急忙用手捂住他的嘴，“看在我的份上，看在我们长久的姐弟情谊的分上，别这么说！”他沉默了。“现在让我来告诉你，亲爱的，”她安静地坐在他的身边，“我跟你一样，也预料到这一点；当我一直没有想到这一点，担心会发生这件事情，并尽量做好准备的时候，我决心当这件事情真正发生的时候就告诉你，我向你保守了一个秘密：我们有一位朋友。”
“我们的朋友叫什么名字，哈里特？”他悲伤地微笑了一下，问道。
“我确实不知道他的名字，但是他有一次很恳切地向我表白了他的友谊和他愿意为我们帮忙的心愿。我相信他，直到今天。”
“哈里特！”惊讶的弟弟高声喊道，“这位朋友住在哪里？”
“这我也不知道，”她回答道，“但是他知道我们两人，知道我们的历史——我们简短历史的全部情形，约翰。这就是为什么我根据他的建议，没有把他到这里来的这个秘密向你透露的缘故，因为唯恐他知道你的历史这一点会使你感到痛苦。”
“这里！他到这里来过，哈里特？”
“这里，在这个房间里。一次。”
“是个什么样的人？”
“不年轻。就像他所说，头发已经斑白，而且很快就会变得更白，但是他慷慨、坦率、善良，我肯定是这样。”
“你只见过他一次吗，哈里特？”
“在这个房间里只一次，”他的姐姐说道，同时脸颊上露出一点极为轻微的、极为短暂的红晕，“但是他在这里曾请求我允许他路过这里的时候每星期见我一次，以表明我们过得很好，依旧不需要他帮助。因为当他向我建议他给我们一些帮助（这是他那次访问的目的）的时候，我告诉他，我们什么也不需要。”
“这么说，一星期一次——”
“从那时候起，他每星期一次，而且经常是每星期中的同一天，同一个钟点，从我们家门口走过；经常是步行；经常是朝着同一个方向——往伦敦去的方向；他经常像一位善良的监护人那样，快活地向我挥挥手就走了，从来没有停留过更长的时间。当他向我建议进行这些奇妙有趣的会晤的时候，他答应这样做，而且一直十分忠实地、愉快地信守他的诺言，因此如果我开始有过一丁点儿疑虑不安的话，那么它也会很快就消除了（由于他的态度十分爽直、真诚，所以我认为我并没有这种疑虑不安），而且在那一天来到的时候，我感到很高兴。上星期一——这次可怕的事件发生以后的第一个星期一——他没有从这里走过；我一直在纳闷，他没有来是不是会跟发生的事情多少有些关系。”
“怎么会有关系呢？”她的弟弟问道。
“我不知道怎么会有关系，我只是对恰好同时发生这一点进行猜测；我不曾想去解释它。我相信他会再来。当他真的再来的时候，亲爱的约翰，请让我告诉他，我已经对你说了，并让我介绍你们认识吧。他肯定会帮助我们解决今后生活的费用。他曾请求我，让他能做点事情来减轻我和你的生活的困难。我也答应过他，如果我们需要朋友帮助的话，那么我将会记得他，到那时候他的姓名对我们将不再是秘密了。”
“哈里特，”她的弟弟一直在十分注意地听着，这时说道，“请把这个先生的外貌描述给我听。我毫无疑问应当知道一位对我知道得这么清楚的人。”
他的姐姐尽可能生动地描述她这位客人的面貌、身材和服装；可是也许是由于他不知道这个人，也许是她在叙述时有些缺点，也许是由于他来回走着并默默思考着的时候，有些走神，因此，约翰•卡克不能辨认出他姐姐描绘的这幅肖像。
不过他们商量好，当肖像的原型下次来到的时候，他一定看一看他。作出这个决定以后，姐姐焦虑不安的心情已减轻一些，就去料理家务；那位头发斑白的、董贝公司原先的低级职员则在花园里劳动，度过他所不习惯的自由的第一天。
已经是夜间很晚的时候了，弟弟正在高声念书，姐姐正忙着针线活，这时他们听见有人敲门。自从他们的弟弟逃走以后，一种模糊不清的忧虑与畏惧的气氛一直笼罩着他们，而敲门的在这里又不是寻常的，所以在这种情况下听到这简直令人恐怖。弟弟向门口走去，姐姐则心惊胆怯地坐在那里听着。有人跟他说话，他作了回答，似乎感到惊奇；两人交谈了几句以后，一起走进了房间。
“哈里特，”她的弟弟拿着蜡烛，领着他们刚来的客人进来，低声说道，“这是莫芬先生，他跟詹姆士一起在董贝公司里工作得很久了。”
他的姐姐吃惊地往后退了一步，仿佛鬼进来似的。那位过去不知名的朋友站在门口，他的黑头发中间夹杂着白发，脸色红润，前额宽阔、明净，眼睛是淡褐色的，这就是她曾这么长久为他保守秘密的那个人。
“约翰！”她有些喘不过气来地说道，“这就是我今天跟你说过的那位先生。”
“哈里特小姐，”客人原先在门口站了一会儿，这时走进来，说道，“这位先生听到您讲这话，心中感到轻松了。他一路上一直在思考着怎样来给他自己解释，可是总没有想出能使他自己满意的方式。约翰先生，我在这里并不是一位完全陌生的人。您刚才在门口看到我的时候大吃一惊。我注意到您现在更加惊异。是啊！在目前的情况下，这倒也是合乎常情的。如果我们不是受习惯支配的奴隶的话，那么我们就没有理由像这样经常地感到惊奇了。”
这时他已用他那令人愉快的、既热诚又尊敬的态度向哈里特表示了问候，他的这种态度哈里特是记得很清楚的；然后他在她的身旁坐下来，脱去手套，扔到放在桌子上的帽子里。
“我产生见见您姐姐的愿望，或者我按照我自己的方式来满足这个愿望，这里并没有什么令人惊奇的东西，约翰先生。至于在这之后，我定期前来拜访（她也许已经向您说到这一点），这也没有什么异乎寻常的东西。它们很快就变成了习惯，而我们都是受习惯支配的奴隶——受习惯支配的奴隶！”
他把手插进衣袋，背靠着椅子，看着弟弟和姐姐，仿佛他看到他们在一起很感兴趣似的；然后他用激昂的和沉思的神态，继续说道，“同样是这习惯，它使我们当中一些能更有作为的人们养成恶魔般高傲与顽固的脾气，难以改变；它使我们当中另一些人养成并加深腐化堕落的恶习，无法自拔；它使我们多数人对周围的一切漠不关心，就像用粘土做成的塑像一样，根据我们粘土的性质，一天天变得愈来愈坚硬，而且跟塑像一样难以压成新的模型和接受新的信念。您应当判断出习惯对我的影响，约翰。在过去这许多年月中，我在董贝公司的业务管理中起着微小的、十分有限的作用；我看到您的弟弟（他已证明自己是个坏蛋！令姐将会原谅我不得不提到这点）不断扩大着他的权势，直到最后公司的业务和它的主人成了他随意踢耍的足球；我看到您每天默默无闻地在您的办公桌上辛苦工作着；我很满意于我做好我职责范围内的一丁点儿工作，尽量不疏忽大意；我满足于让我周围的一切像一架大机器一样，不加猜疑地、一天天运转下去（这是机器的习惯，也是我的习惯）；我满足于把一切都看作是不成问题的，完全正确的。我所喜爱的星期三夜晚定时来临，我们的四重奏乐队定时演出，我的大提琴的音调很好，在我的世界里一切都没有毛病——如果有，那也不大——，就算有些毛病，那也与我无关。”
“我可以向您保证说，在我们公司里，谁也没有像您这样受到大家尊敬与喜爱的。”
“说那里的话！”另一位回答道，“我敢说，那是由于我脾气好，容易顺从别人的缘故。这是我的习惯。这适合经理的心意，特别是，这最适合我自己的心意。我完成分配给我做的工作，不奉承他们任何人，安心乐意于一个完全不要求我溜须拍马的职务。因此，要不是因为我的墙壁薄，我就会这样一直待下去。您可以向您姐姐证明，我的房间和经理的房间只是用护壁板隔开的。”
“那是两间相连的房间；原先可能是一间房间，正如莫芬先生所说，是被分隔开来的。”她的弟弟说道，一边回头看看他，等待他继续解释下去。
“我吹口哨，哼曲子，把贝多芬B调奏鸣曲从头到尾哼到底，让他知道，我和他近在咫尺，能听得见他说话，”莫芬先生说道，“可是他从来没有注意我。当然，我极少听到私事性质的谈话。可是当我能听到这种谈话，而又没有别的办法避免知道其中一些内容的时候，我就走出房间。我走出过一次，约翰，那是兄弟两人正在谈话的时候，年轻的沃尔特•盖伊开始也参加了那次谈话。可是在我离开房间之前我偷听到其中的一些内容。也许您还能充分记得这次谈话，可以告诉您姐姐谈话的性质是什么吧？”
“哈里特，”她的弟弟低声说道，“我们谈到过去的事情和我们各自在公司里的地位。”
“这次谈到的问题对我并不新鲜，但它从一个新的角度向我显示出来。我本来相信我周围的一切都是完好无缺的，因为我对它已经习惯了——世界上十分之九的居民都有这样的习惯——，这次谈话动摇了我的这个习惯，”客人说道，“并引起我回忆兄弟两人的历史，对它进行了思考。我想这几乎是我生平第一次沿着这样的思路去考虑问题：许多我们现在司空见惯、习以为常的事物，当我们从那个我们早晚有一天一定都会采取的新的、不同的观点去看的时候，它们将会显示出什么样子呢？从那天上午以后，我就像人们常说的那样，变得脾气不太好，不太顺从，不太自满自足了。”
他沉默了一分钟左右，同时用一只手在桌子上叮叮冬冬地敲击着，然后又赶快继续说下去，仿佛急着想结束他的自白似的。
“在我知道我该做些什么事情或我能做些什么事情之前，这两兄弟又进行了第二次谈话；在这次谈话中提到了他们的姐姐。我听凭这次谈话的片言只语自由地飘入我的耳朵，良心上没有任何不安。我认为这是我的权利。在这之后，我到这里来，想亲眼见一见姐姐。第一次我在花园门口停下来，假装打听你们一位可怜的邻人的名声，可是我离开了，我觉得哈里特小姐不相信我。第二次，我请求允许我走进屋子；进来以后，我说了我想要说的话。您姐姐向我说明了为什么她当时拒绝接受我的帮助的原因，那是我不敢和她争辩的；但是我建立了我们两人交际的一个方式，它从不间断地一直持续下来，直到这几天我因为忙于最近移交给我的重要事情，才不得不中断。”
“先生，我每天跟您见面，却一点也没有猜疑到这一点！”约翰•卡克说道，“如果哈里特能猜测到您的姓名的话——”
“老实告诉您吧，约翰，”客人打断他的话，说道，“我没有说出我的姓名，有两个原因。我不知道单有第一个原因是不是充分；一个人没有权利由于有善良的意图就接受别人的感谢，因此我决定在我能向你们提供真正的帮助之前，无论如何也不说出我的姓名。我的第二个原因是，我总还抱着微弱的希望：你们的弟弟对你们两人也许还可能会比以前宽厚一些；在这样的情况下，如果这位生性多疑的、小心戒备的人发现我秘密地亲近你们，这就有可能成为你们破裂的一个新的、严重的根由。真的，我曾经决定不顾他会对我不满的风险（这算不了什么），等待合适的机会，在公司老板面前为您陈情请愿。可是由于发生了死亡、求婚、结婚、不和的家庭生活等这一系列事件的结果，在这长长的时间中，我们公司的老板实际上是你们的弟弟；”这时客人压低了，说道，“如果用一株干枯的树干来代替他的话，那么这对我们来说反倒会好一些。”
他似乎意识到，最后这句话是违反他的意愿脱口说出的，就伸出一只手给弟弟，另一只手给姐姐，继续说道：
“现在我已说出了所有我想要说的话，甚至还超过了。我希望你们理解并相信，我的用意不是言语所能表达的。现在我可以帮助您，而不会妨碍您进行赎罪的努力了（您这种努力已持续进行了这么多年），“因为您今天不是由于您自己的行为而被解除职务的，因此我可以帮助您的这个时间已经来到了，约翰，虽然它是极为不幸、极为悲痛地来到的。现在时间已经晚了，今天夜里我不用再说什么了。不需要我劝告或提醒，您将会保护好这里交给您的珍宝。”
他说完这些话之后，站起身来，准备离开。
“可是约翰，您拿着蜡烛在前面走，”他愉快地说道，“不论您想说什么，都别说了。”约翰•卡克心头充满了千言万语，如果可能的话，他真想把它们倾吐出来，使他心情轻松一些；“让我再跟您姐姐说一句话。我们以前曾经单独说过话，而且也是在这个房间；虽然现在有您在这里，显得更为自然。”
他目送着约翰•卡克出去，一边亲切地转向哈里特，用改变了的、更为庄严的态度，低声说道：
“您希望向我问一下您不幸成为他姐姐的那个人的情况吧？”
“我怕问，”哈里特说道。
“您不止一次那么严肃地望着我，”客人说道，“因此我想我能猜出您的问题。您想问：他有没有窃取公司的钱，是不是？”
“是的。”
“他没有。”
“谢谢上天！”哈里特说道，“为了约翰的缘故。”
“可是他百般滥用对他的信任，”莫芬先生说道，“他时常为了自己的利益，而不是为了他所代表的公司的利益而经营买卖和投机；他让公司卷入极为冒险的业务，结果时常造成巨大的亏损；他有责任抑制他的老板的虚荣心与野心，并向他指出它们会导致什么样的后果（这是在他的职权范围内可以做到的事），可是这时他却反而时常纵容它们；所有这些事情现在可能不会使您感到惊奇。公司举办了各种企业来扩大它财力雄厚的声誉，并显示它和其他商业公司相比的巨大优越地位；需要有一个沉着冷静的头脑来注视可能发生的毁灭性后果（如果在公司业务中发生了一些灾难性的变化，这就会使这种后果成为可能）。公司经营着涉及世界上大部分地区的许多交易，他是其中的中心人物，只有他一个人掌握着这些错综复杂的业务的线索，因此他可能（他似乎也利用了这种可能）把已经查明的各种结果隐瞒住，而以各种估计和概括来代替事实。可是近来——您能听谨我的话吗，哈里特小姐？”
“完全听得谨，完全听得懂，”她把受惊的脸孔一动不动地对着他，回答道，“请立刻把最坏的事情告诉我。”
“近来他好像花了很大的精力来使这些业务经营的结果看得清楚、明白；虽然它们头绪纷繁，但只要查阅一下帐簿，就能使人非常容易地掌握这些结果。仿佛他已决心让老板粗
Chapter 54
The Fugitives
Tea-time, an hour short of midnight; the place, a French apartment, comprising some half-dozen rooms; - a dull cold hall or corridor, a dining-room, a drawing-room, a bed-room, and an inner drawingroom, or boudoir, smaller and more retired than the rest. All these shut in by one large pair of doors on the main staircase, but each room provided with two or three pairs of doors of its own, establishing several means of communication with the remaining portion of the apartment, or with certain small passages within the wall, leading, as is not unusual in such houses, to some back stairs with an obscure outlet below. The whole situated on the first floor of so large an Hotel, that it did not absorb one entire row of windows upon one side of the square court-yard in the centre, upon which the whole four sides of the mansion looked.
An air of splendour, sufficiently faded to be melancholy, and sufficiently dazzling to clog and embarrass the details of life with a show of state, reigned in these rooms The walls and ceilings were gilded and painted; the floors were waxed and polished; crimson drapery hung in festoons from window, door, and mirror; and candelabra, gnarled and intertwisted like the branches of trees, or horns of animals, stuck out from the panels of the wall. But in the day-time, when the lattice-blinds (now closely shut) were opened, and the light let in, traces were discernible among this finery, of wear and tear and dust, of sun and damp and smoke, and lengthened intervals of want of use and habitation, when such shows and toys of life seem sensitive like life, and waste as men shut up in prison do. Even night, and clusters of burning candles, could not wholly efface them, though the general glitter threw them in the shade.
The glitter of bright tapers, and their reflection in looking-glasses, scraps of gilding and gay colours, were confined, on this night, to one room - that smaller room within the rest, just now enumerated. Seen from the hall, where a lamp was feebly burning, through the dark perspective of open doors, it looked as shining and precious as a gem. In the heart of its radiance sat a beautiful woman - Edith.
She was alone. The same defiant, scornful woman still. The cheek a little worn, the eye a little larger in appearance, and more lustrous, but the haughty bearing just the same. No shame upon her brow; no late repentance bending her disdainful neck. Imperious and stately yet, and yet regardless of herself and of all else, she sat wIth her dark eyes cast down, waiting for someone.
No book, no work, no occupation of any kind but her own thought, beguiled the tardy time. Some purpose, strong enough to fill up any pause, possessed her. With her lips pressed together, and quivering if for a moment she released them from her control; with her nostril inflated; her hands clasped in one another; and her purpose swelling in her breast; she sat, and waited.
At the sound of a key in the outer door, and a footstep in the hall, she started up, and cried 'Who's that?' The answer was in French, and two men came in with jingling trays, to make preparation for supper.
'Who had bade them to do so?' she asked.
'Monsieur had commanded it, when it was his pleasure to take the apartment. Monsieur had said, when he stayed there for an hour, en route, and left the letter for Madame - Madame had received it surely?'
'Yes.'
'A thousand pardons! The sudden apprehension that it might have been forgotten had struck hIm;' a bald man, with a large beard from a neighbouring restaurant; 'with despair! Monsieur had said that supper was to be ready at that hour: also that he had forewarned Madame of the commands he had given, in his letter. Monsieur had done the Golden Head the honour to request that the supper should be choice and delicate. Monsieur would find that his confidence in the Golden Head was not misplaced.'
Edith said no more, but looked on thoughtfully while they prepared the table for two persons, and set the wine upon it. She arose before they had finished, and taking a lamp, passed into the bed-chamber and into the drawing-room, where she hurriedly but narrowly examined all the doors; particularly one in the former room that opened on the passage in the wall. From this she took the key, and put it on the outer side. She then came back.
The men - the second of whom was a dark, bilious subject, in a jacket, close shaved, and with a black head of hair close cropped - had completed their preparation of the table, and were standing looking at it. He who had spoken before, inquired whether Madame thought it would be long before Monsieur arrived?
'She couldn't say. It was all one.'
'Pardon! There was the supper! It should be eaten on the instant. Monsieur (who spoke French like an Angel - or a Frenchman - it was all the same) had spoken with great emphasis of his punctuality. But the English nation had so grand a genius for punctuality. Ah! what noise! Great Heaven, here was Monsieur. Behold him!'
In effect, Monsieur, admitted by the other of the two, came, with his gleaming teeth, through the dark rooms, like a mouth; and arriving in that sanctuary of light and colour, a figure at full length, embraced Madame, and addressed her in the French tongue as his charming wife
'My God! Madame is going to faint. Madame is overcome with joy!' The bald man with the beard observed it, and cried out.
Madame had only shrunk and shivered. Before the words were spoken, she was standing with her hand upon the velvet back of a great chair; her figure drawn up to its full height, and her face immoveable.
'Francois has flown over to the Golden Head for supper. He flies on these occasions like an angel or a bird. The baggage of Monsieur is in his room. All is arranged. The supper will be here this moment.' These facts the bald man notified with bows and smiles, and presently the supper came.
The hot dishes were on a chafing-dish; the cold already set forth, with the change of service on a sideboard. Monsieur was satisfied with this arrangement. The supper table being small, it pleased him very well. Let them set the chafing-dish upon the floor, and go. He would remove the dishes with his own hands.
'Pardon!' said the bald man, politely. 'It was impossible!'
Monsieur was of another opinion. He required no further attendance that night.
'But Madame - ' the bald man hinted.
'Madame,' replied Monsieur, 'had her own maid. It was enough.'
'A million pardons! No! Madame had no maid!'
'I came here alone,' said Edith 'It was my choice to do so. I am well used to travelling; I want no attendance. They need send nobody to me.
Monsieur accordingly, persevering in his first proposed impossibility, proceeded to follow the two attendants to the outer door, and secure it after them for the night. The bald man turning round to bow, as he went out, observed that Madame still stood with her hand upon the velvet back of the great chair, and that her face was quite regardless of him, though she was looking straight before her.
As the sound of Carker's fastening the door resounded through the intermediate rooms, and seemed to come hushed and stilled into that last distant one, the sound of the Cathedral clock striking twelve mingled with it, in Edith's ears She heard him pause, as if he heard it too and listened; and then came back towards her, laying a long train of footsteps through the silence, and shutting all the doors behind him as he came along. Her hand, for a moment, left the velvet chair to bring a knife within her reach upon the table; then she stood as she had stood before.
'How strange to come here by yourself, my love!' he said as he entered.
'What?' she returned.
Her tone was so harsh; the quick turn of her head so fierce; her attitude so repellent; and her frown so black; that he stood, with the lamp in his hand, looking at her, as if she had struck him motionless.
'I say,' he at length repeated, putting down the lamp, and smiling his most courtly smile, 'how strange to come here alone! It was unnecessarty caution surely, and might have defeated itself. You were to have engaged an attendant at Havre or Rouen, and have had abundance of time for the purpose, though you had been the most capricious and difficult (as you are the most beautiful, my love) of women.'
Her eyes gleamed strangely on him, but she stood with her hand resting on the chair, and said not a word.
'I have never,' resumed Carker, 'seen you look so handsome, as you do to-night. Even the picture I have carried in my mind during this cruel probation, and which I have contemplated night and day, is exceeded by the reality.'
Not a word. Not a look Her eyes completely hidden by their drooping lashes, but her head held up.
'Hard, unrelenting terms they were!' said Carker, with a smile, 'but they are all fulfilled and passed, and make the present more delicious and more safe. Sicily shall be the Place of our retreat. In the idlest and easiest part of the world, my soul, we'll both seek compensation for old slavery.'
He was coming gaily towards her, when, in an instant, she caught the knife up from the table, and started one pace back.
'Stand still!' she said, 'or I shall murder you!'
The sudden change in her, the towering fury and intense abhorrence sparkling in her eyes and lighting up her brow, made him stop as if a fire had stopped him.
'Stand still!' she said, 'come no nearer me, upon your life!'
They both stood looking at each other. Rage and astonishment were in his face, but he controlled them, and said lightly,
'Come, come! Tush, we are alone, and out of everybody's sight and hearing. Do you think to frighten me with these tricks of virtue?'
'Do you think to frighten me,' she answered fiercely, 'from any purpose that I have, and any course I am resolved upon, by reminding me of the solitude of this place, and there being no help near? Me, who am here alone, designedly? If I feared you, should I not have avoided you? If I feared you, should I be here, in the dead of night, telling you to your face what I am going to tell?'
'And what is that,' he said, 'you handsome shrew? Handsomer so, than any other woman in her best humour?'
'I tell you nothing,' she returned, until you go back to that chair - except this, once again - Don't come near me! Not a step nearer. I tell you, if you do, as Heaven sees us, I shall murder you!'
'Do you mistake me for your husband?' he retorted, with a grin.
Disdaining to reply, she stretched her arm out, pointing to the chair. He bit his lip, frowned, laughed, and sat down in it, with a baffled, irresolute, impatient air, he was unable to conceal; and biting his nail nervously, and looking at her sideways, with bitter discomfiture, even while he feigned to be amused by her caprice.
She put the knife down upon the table, and touching her bosom wIth her hand, said:
'I have something lying here that is no love trinket, and sooner than endure your touch once more, I would use it on you - and you know it, while I speak - with less reluctance than I would on any other creeping thing that lives.'
He affected to laugh jestingly, and entreated her to act her play out quickly, for the supper was growing cold. But the secret look with which he regarded her, was more sullen and lowering, and he struck his foot once upon the floor with a muttered oath.
'How many times,' said Edith, bending her darkest glance upon him' 'has your bold knavery assailed me with outrage and insult? How many times in your smooth manner, and mocking words and looks, have I been twitted with my courtship and my marriage? How many times have you laid bare my wound of love for that sweet, injured girl and lacerated it? How often have you fanned the fire on which, for two years, I have writhed; and tempted me to take a desperate revenge, when it has most tortured me?'
'I have no doubt, Ma'am,' he replied, 'that you have kept a good account, and that it's pretty accurate. Come, Edith. To your husband, poor wretch, this was well enough - '
'Why, if,' she said, surveying him with a haughty contempt and disgust, that he shrunk under, let him brave it as he would, 'if all my other reasons for despising him could have been blown away like feathers, his having you for his counsellor and favourite, would have almost been enough to hold their place.'
'Is that a reason why you have run away with me?' he asked her, tauntingly.
'Yes, and why we are face to face for the last time. Wretch! We meet tonight, and part tonight. For not one moment after I have ceased to speak, will I stay here!'
He turned upon her with his ugliest look, and gripped the table with his hand; but neither rose, nor otherwise answered or threatened her.
'I am a woman,' she said, confronting him steadfastly, 'who from her childhood has been shamed and steeled. I have been offered and rejected, put up and appraised, until my very soul has sickened. I have not had an accomplishment or grace that might have been a resource to me, but it has been paraded and vended to enhance my value, as if the common crier had called it through the streets. My poor, proud friends, have looked on and approved; and every tie between us has been deadened in my breast. There is not one of them for whom I care, as I could care for a pet dog. I stand alone in the world, remembering well what a hollow world it has been to me, and what a hollow part of it I have been myself. You know this, and you know that my fame with it is worthless to me.'
'Yes; I imagined that,' he said.
'And calculated on it,' she rejoined, 'and so pursued me. Grown too indifferent for any opposition but indifference, to the daily working of the hands that had moulded me to this; and knowing that my marriage would at least prevent their hawking of me up and down; I suffered myself to be sold, as infamously as any woman with a halter round her neck is sold in any market-place. You know that.'
'Yes,' he said, showing all his teeth 'I know that.'
'And calculated on it,' she rejoined once more, 'and so pursued me. From my marriage day, I found myself exposed to such new shame - to such solicitation and pursuit (expressed as clearly as if it had been written in the coarsest words, and thrust into my hand at every turn) from one mean villain, that I felt as if I had never known humiliation till that time. This shame my husband fixed upon me; hemmed me round with, himself; steeped me in, with his own hands, and of his own act, repeated hundreds of times. And thus - forced by the two from every point of rest I had - forced by the two to yield up the last retreat of love and gentleness within me, or to be a new misfortune on its innocent object - driven from each to each, and beset by one when I escaped the other - my anger rose almost to distraction against both I do not know against which it rose higher - the master or the man!'
He watched her closely, as she stood before him in the very triumph of her indignant beauty. She was resolute, he saw; undauntable; with no more fear of him than of a worm.
'What should I say of honour or of chastity to you!' she went on. 'What meaning would it have to you; what meaning would it have from me! But if I tell you that the lightest touch of your hand makes my blood cold with antipathy; that from the hour when I first saw and hated you, to now, when my instinctive repugnance is enhanced by every minute's knowledge of you I have since had, you have been a loathsome creature to me which has not its like on earth; how then?'
He answered with a faint laugh, 'Ay! How then, my queen?'
'On that night, when, emboldened by the scene you had assisted at, you dared come to my room and speak to me,' she said, 'what passed?'
He shrugged his shoulders, and laughed
'What passed?' she said.
'Your memory is so distinct,' he said, 'that I have no doubt you can recall it.'
'I can,' she said. 'Hear it! Proposing then, this flight - not this flight, but the flight you thought it - you told me that in the having given you that meeting, and leaving you to be discovered there, if you so thought fit; and in the having suffered you to be alone with me many times before, - and having made the opportunities, you said, - and in the having openly avowed to you that I had no feeling for my husband but aversion, and no care for myself - I was lost; I had given you the power to traduce my name; and I lived, in virtuous reputation, at the pleasure of your breath'
'All stratagems in love - ' he interrupted, smiling. 'The old adage - '
'On that night,' said Edith, 'and then, the struggle that I long had had with something that was not respect for my good fame - that was I know not what - perhaps the clinging to that last retreat- was ended. On that night, and then, I turned from everything but passion and resentment. I struck a blow that laid your lofty master in the dust, and set you there, before me, looking at me now, and knowing what I mean.'
He sprung up from his chair with a great oath. She put her hand into her bosom, and not a finger trembled, not a hair upon her head was stirred. He stood still: she too: the table and chair between them.~
'When I forget that this man put his lips to mine that night, and held me in his arms as he has done again to-night,' said Edith, pointing at him; 'when I forget the taint of his kiss upon my cheek - the cheek that Florence would have laid her guiltless face against - when I forget my meeting with her, while that taint was hot upon me, and in what a flood the knowledge rushed upon me when I saw her, that in releasing her from the persecution I had caused by my love, I brought a shame and degradation on her name through mine, and in all time to come should be the solitary figure representing in her mind her first avoidance of a guilty creature - then, Husband, from whom I stand divorced henceforth, I will forget these last two years, and undo what I have done, and undeceive you!'
Her flashing eyes, uplifted for a moment, lighted again on Carker, and she held some letters out in her left hand.
'See these!' she said, contemptuously. 'You have addressed these to me in the false name you go by; one here, some elsewhere on my road. The seals are unbroken. Take them back!'
She crunched them in her hand, and tossed them to his feet. And as she looked upon him now, a smile was on her face.
'We meet and part to-night,' she said. 'You have fallen on Sicilian days and sensual rest, too soon. You might have cajoled, and fawned, and played your traitor's part, a little longer, and grown richer. You purchase your voluptuous retirement dear!'
'Edith!' he retorted, menacing her with his hand. 'Sit down! Have done with this! What devil possesses you?'
'Their name is Legion,' she replied, uprearing her proud form as if she would have crushed him; 'you and your master have raised them in a fruitful house, and they shall tear you both. False to him, false to his innocent child, false every way and everywhere, go forth and boast of me, and gnash your teeth, for once, to know that you are lying!'
He stood before her, muttering and menacing, and scowling round as if for something that would help him to conquer her; but with the same indomitable spirit she opposed him, without faltering.
'In every vaunt you make,' she said, 'I have my triumph I single out in you the meanest man I know, the parasite and tool of the proud tyrant, that his wound may go the deeper, and may rankle more. Boast, and revenge me on him! You know how you came here to-night; you know how you stand cowering there; you see yourself in colours quite as despicable, if not as odious, as those in which I see you. Boast then, and revenge me on yourself.'
The foam was on his lips; the wet stood on his forehead. If she would have faltered once for only one half-moment, he would have pinioned her; but she was as firm as rock, and her searching eyes never left him.
'We don't part so,' he said. 'Do you think I am drivelling, to let you go in your mad temper?'
'Do you think,' she answered, 'that I am to be stayed?'
'I'll try, my dear,' he said with a ferocious gesture of his head.
'God's mercy on you, if you try by coming near me!' she replied.
'And what,' he said, 'if there are none of these same boasts and vaunts on my part? What if I were to turn too? Come!' and his teeth fairly shone again. 'We must make a treaty of this, or I may take some unexpected course. Sit down, sit down!'
'Too late!' she cried, with eyes that seemed to sparkle fire. 'I have thrown my fame and good name to the winds! I have resolved to bear the shame that will attach to me - resolved to know that it attaches falsely - that you know it too - and that he does not, never can, and never shall. I'll die, and make no sign. For this, I am here alone with you, at the dead of night. For this, I have met you here, in a false name, as your wife. For this, I have been seen here by those men, and left here. Nothing can save you now.
He would have sold his soul to root her, in her beauty, to the floor, and make her arms drop at her sides, and have her at his mercy. But he could not look at her, and not be afraid of her. He saw a strength within her that was resistless. He saw that she was desperate, and that her unquenchable hatred of him would stop at nothing. His eyes followed the hand that was put with such rugged uncongenial purpose into her white bosom, and he thought that if it struck at hIm, and failed, it would strike there, just as soon.
He did not venture, therefore, to advance towards her; but the door by which he had entered was behind him, and he stepped back to lock it.
'Lastly, take my warning! Look to yourself!' she said, and smiled again. 'You have been betrayed, as all betrayers are. It has been made known that you are in this place, or were to be, or have been. If I live, I saw my husband in a carriage in the street to-night!'
'Strumpet, it's false!' cried Carker.
At the moment, the bell rang loudly in the hall. He turned white, as she held her hand up like an enchantress, at whose invocation the sound had come.
'Hark! do you hear it?'
He set his back against the door; for he saw a change in her, and fancied she was coming on to pass him. But, in a moment, she was gone through the opposite doors communicating with the bed-chamber, and they shut upon her.
Once turned, once changed in her inflexible unyielding look, he felt that he could cope with her. He thought a sudden terror, occasioned by this night-alarm, had subdued her; not the less readily, for her overwrought condition. Throwing open the doors, he followed, almost instantly.
But the room was dark; and as she made no answer to his call, he was fain to go back for the lamp. He held it up, and looked round, everywhere, expecting to see her crouching in some corner; but the room was empty. So, into the drawing-room and dining-room he went, in succession, with the uncertain steps of a man in a strange place; looking fearfully about, and prying behind screens and couches; but she was not there. No, nor in the hall, which was so bare that he could see that, at a glance.
All this time, the ringing at the bell was constantly renewed, and those without were beating at the door. He put his lamp down at a distance, and going near it, listened. There were several voices talking together: at least two of them in English; and though the door was thick, and there was great confusion, he knew one of these too well to doubt whose voice it was.
He took up his lamp again, and came back quickly through all the rooms, stopping as he quitted each, and looking round for her, with the light raised above his head. He was standing thus in the bed-chamber, when the door, leading to the little passage in the wall, caught his eye. He went to it, and found it fastened on the other side; but she had dropped a veil in going through, and shut it in the door.
All this time the people on the stairs were ringing at the bell, and knocking with their hands and feet.
He was not a coward: but these sounds; what had gone before; the strangeness of the place, which had confused him, even in his return from the hall; the frustration of his schemes (for, strange to say, he would have been much bolder, if they had succeeded); the unseasonable time; the recollection of having no one near to whom he could appeal for any friendly office; above all, the sudden sense, which made even his heart beat like lead, that the man whose confidence he had outraged, and whom he had so treacherously deceived, was there to recognise and challenge him with his mask plucked off his face; struck a panic through him. He tried the door in which the veil was shut, but couldn't force it. He opened one of the windows, and looked down through the lattice of the blind, into the court-yard; but it was a high leap, and the stones were pitiless.
The ringing and knocking still continuing - his panic too - he went back to the door in the bed-chamber, and with some new efforts, each more stubborn than the last, wrenched it open. Seeing the little staircase not far off, and feeling the night-air coming up, he stole back for his hat and coat, made the door as secure after hIm as he could, crept down lamp in hand, extinguished it on seeing the street, and having put it in a corner, went out where the stars were shining.
时间是在午夜差一个小时；地点是在法国的一套房间里，这套房间由几个房间组成：一间阴暗的，寒冷的门厅或走廊，一间餐厅，一间客厅，一间卧室，一间内客厅或闺房，最后这一间比其余各间小，也比其余各间隐僻。所有这些房间都被主要楼梯的两扇门关在里面，但是每间房间都有自己的两、三个门，通过不同的方式和其他房间相通，并和墙中间的一些狭小的通道通接，而且像这类房屋中常有的情形那样，通向后面的楼梯，后面的楼梯下面有一个隐蔽的出口，它通向外面的街道。整套房间位于一个旅馆的二层楼。旅馆很大，中间是一个方形的庭院，整座大楼的四面都朝着它。其中有一面的整排窗子并没有被这套房间完全占有。
这些房间气派豪华，但是光泽已失去很多，因此显出了令人忧伤的情调；房间的陈设耀眼夺目，处处炫示它的富丽堂皇，因此使人感到难于日常生活。墙壁和天花板已经镀过金和绘过图画；地板已经上过蜡，并擦得亮亮的；深红色的帷幔以花彩的形式从窗子上、门上和镜子上悬挂下来；枝形烛架像兽角一样，上面有好多节，弯弯曲曲地从墙壁的嵌板中伸出来。可是在白天，当格子式的百叶窗（现在关得紧紧的）打开，光线射进来的时候，从这些华丽的陈设中间可以看得出磨损与灰尘留下的痕迹，以及阳光、潮湿与烟雾留下的痕迹，也可以看得出这些房间已经长久未用，无人居住，因为这些供生命进行炫耀和玩乐的东西似乎像生命一样敏感，并像囚禁在监狱中的人们一样日渐衰老下去。甚至夜晚，一支支点燃的蜡烛也不能完全消除这些痕迹，虽然灿烂的光辉已使它们退缩到阴影之中。
这天夜里，只在一个房间——刚才提到的那个最小的房间——里，可以看见细小的蜡烛的明亮的光辉和它们在镜子里的映像，以及少许镀金和鲜艳的颜色。门厅里有一盏灯，发出暗淡的光，从门厅通过一长列黑暗的、开着的房门看过去，这个房间像宝石一样闪耀着光芒，也像宝石一样宝贵可爱。在它的光辉的中心坐着一位美丽的女人——伊迪丝。
她单独一人。仍然是那位目中无人、蔑视一切的女人。她的脸颊稍稍凹陷下去一些，眼睛看上去稍稍大了一些，而且更有光泽，可是傲慢的态度仍旧和过去一样。在她的脸上没有一点羞愧的表情；她高傲的脖子没有低垂下去，表示最近感到悔恨。她和过去一样专横、庄严，和过去一样对她本人和所有其他的人漠不关心；她现在坐在那里，等待什么人。
她没有看书，没有做针线活，除了独自沉思外，她没有别的活动来消磨这缓慢的时间。她心中正怀着某种决心，它强大得足以填补任何空隙的时间。她双唇紧闭，如果稍有片刻放松控制，它们就颤抖着；她的鼻孔张得大大的；两只手互相紧握着；她的决心在她心中变得愈来愈强烈，她坐着；等待着。
听到外面的门上转动钥匙的和门厅里的脚步声，她惊跳起来，喊道，“是谁？”回答是用法语说的，两个仆人端着发出叮当响声的托盘走进来，准备开晚饭。
她问是谁吩咐他们做这些事情的。
“是Monsieur（先生）订下这套房间的时候吩咐的。他enroute（在路途中）到这里待了一个钟头的时候说的。他还留下一封信给夫人——夫人想必收到了吧？”
“收到了。”
请原谅一千次！他因为突然担心信可能会被忘记转交，心慌得要命，所以才问了这个问题。他是一位秃头并留着大胡子的仆人，从邻近餐馆来的，他说：“Monsieur说过，晚餐必须在这个钟头准备好，还说，他在信中已预先通知了夫人。‘金头’餐馆感到十分荣幸，Monsieur要求它提供上等的、美味的晚餐。Monsieur将会发现，‘金头’没有辜负他的信任。”
伊迪丝不再说什么，若有所思地注视着他们在餐桌上摆放两个人的餐具，还在上面放了一瓶酒。在他们结束之前，她站起来，拿了一盏灯，走进卧室，又从卧室走进客厅；她在两间房间里匆忙而又仔细地察看了所有的门，特别是卧室里那扇通向墙中通道的门。她从这扇门中取出钥匙，放进朝外一边的钥匙孔中。然后她走回原处。
仆人们——第二位仆人是一个皮肤黝黑、脾气大的人，穿一件短上衣，胡子刮得光光的，黑头发剪得短短的——已经做完了准备餐桌的工作，正站在那里看着它。刚才讲过话的那位仆人问夫人，她想Monsieur是不是很快就会来到。
她不知道这一点。对她来说，这无所谓。
“请原谅！晚饭已经准备好了！应当立刻就吃。Monsieur（他法语说得像天使一样或说得像法国人一样——不论怎么说，反正都一样）曾经十分强调，他严守时刻。不过英国民族就是素以严守时刻而著称的。啊！什么！我的老天爷，MonBsieur一来了。请看他！”
Monsieur真的来了，是另一位仆人去开了门，让他进来的；他露出闪闪发光的牙齿，穿过黑暗的房间，像一只嘴巴似地走来了。当他走进这个光与颜色的圣所，显露出全部身形的时候，他拥抱了夫人，用法语称他为迷人的妻子。
“我的老天爷！夫人要晕倒了。夫人太高兴啦！”秃头并留着胡子的仆人注意到这一点，喊道。
夫人实际上只是往后退缩和打颤罢了。在仆人还没有说这些话之前，她已站在那里，把手搁在一张大椅子的丝绒椅背上；她身子挺得笔直，脸色十分呆板。
“弗朗索阿已飞跑到‘金头’去取晚饭了。这种时候他总是飞跑得像个天使或像一只鸟儿一样。Monsieur的行李就在他的房间里。一切都安排好了。晚饭就送到这里。”秃头的仆人连连鞠躬，满脸微笑地报告着这些事情。不一会儿，晚饭就送到了。
热菜放在酒精炉盆上；冷菜早已摆放在桌子上。备用的餐具放在餐具柜上。Monseur对这些安排感到满意。晚餐桌是小的，这使他很喜欢。他们应当把酒精炉盆放到地板上，然后离开。他将自己来拿菜。
“请原谅！”秃头的仆人彬彬有礼地说道，“这可不行！哪能这样呢？”
Monsieur是另一种意见。今天夜里他不要求他们侍候了。
“可是夫人——”秃头的仆人暗示道。
“夫人有她自己的侍女，”Monsieur回答道。
“请原谅一百万次！没有！夫人没有侍女！”
“我一个人到这里来的，”伊迪丝说道“我喜欢这样。我习惯于旅行；我不需要人侍候我。请不要给我派什么人来。”
因此，Monsieur坚持他原先提出的“这可不行”的建议，跟随两个侍者到外面的门口，把门关紧，这一夜就不让别人进来了。秃头的仆人在要走出去的时候，转过身来鞠躬，这时看到夫人依旧站在那里，手搁在大椅子的丝绒椅背上，她虽然直望着前面，但却很不注意他。
当卡克先生关门的在中间的各个房间中回响，并似乎要在最远的房间中完全沉寂下来的时候，大教堂的钟敲了十二下，两种在伊迪丝的耳朵里融合在一起。她听到他停下脚步，仿佛他也听到了，并正在听着；然后他又朝她走回来；在寂静中留下了一长串的脚步声；他一边走一边把所有的门都关上。她的手离开丝绒椅子一会儿，去拿桌子上她可以够得到的一把餐刀；然后她像先前一样站着。
“真奇怪，你怎么一个人到这里来，我亲爱的！”他走进来的时候，说道。
“什么？”她回答道。
她的声调十分刺耳，头转得十分猛烈，态度拒人于千里之外，眉毛阴沉地皱着，因此他手里拿着灯，站在那里望着她，仿佛她已使他无法动弹了。
“我说真奇怪，您怎么一个人到这里来！”他终于重复说道，一边把灯放下，露出他那极为谄媚的微笑，“确实，这是不必要的谨慎，并可能败坏事情。您应当在阿弗尔①或鲁昂②雇用一个侍女；您有充分的时间来做这件事，虽然您是个最反复无常、最难侍候的女人，不过也是最漂亮的，我亲爱的。”
她的眼睛向他奇怪地闪了一眼，但是她的手搁在椅子上并站在那里，没有说一个字。
“我从来没有看到您像今天夜里这么漂亮，”卡克先生重新说下去，“甚至在这最令人痛苦的考验中我保存在记忆中、日日夜夜思念着的形象也被真正的实体超过了。”
她没有说一个字，也没有向他看一眼。她的眼睛已完全被垂下的眼睫毛遮盖住了，但是她的头高昂着。
“考验的条件是多么艰难，多么严酷无情啊！”卡克微笑了一下，说道，“可是它们全都得到满足，并全都已经过去了，这使得现在更加美妙，更加安全。西西里③将是我们最后的避难处。在世界上这个最宁静、最安逸的地方，我的心灵儿，我们俩将为过去所受的奴役寻求补偿。”
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①阿弗尔（Havre）：法国港市。
②鲁昂（Rouen）：法国港市。
③西西里（Sicily）：位于亚平宁半岛西南，是地中海最大岛屿，属意大利。
他快快活活地向她走来，可是她突然从桌子上拿起一把餐刀，向后退了一步。
“站住别动！”她喊道，“要不然我就杀死你！”
她突然发生的这个变化，她眼睛中闪射出的和在脸上表露出的极大的愤怒与强烈的憎恶使他站住，就仿佛一团火在他面前燃烧一样。
“站住别动！”她喊道，“别走近我，如果你还想活命的话！”
他们两人站住，相互看着。他的脸上露出愤怒与惊奇的表情，但是他控制着它们，并随便地说道：
“得了，得了！啐！这里就只我们两个人，谁也看不见我们，谁也听不见我们。难道您还要假装正经，要这种花招来吓唬我吗？”
“难道你以为向我提醒这个地方偏僻冷静、不能向近处求助，就可以吓唬我，使我放弃我的目的，离开我决心要走的道路吗？我是故意一个人在这里的，你能吓唬得了吗？如果我害怕你的话，那么难道我会不设法避开你吗？如果我害怕你的话，那么难道我会深更半夜在这里把我打算跟你说的话当面说给你听吗？”
“你打算说什么呢，你这个漂亮的泼妇？”他说道，“其他的女人在情绪最好的时候也不及你漂亮呢。”
“除非你回去坐到那张椅子里，否则我就什么也不跟你说，”她回答道，“要不我就再跟你说一遍：别走近我！走近一步也不行。我告诉你，如果你走近的话，那么我就当着老天爷的面杀死你！”
“你是不是把我错当成你的丈夫了？”他冷笑了一声，反问道。
她不屑回答，只是伸出胳膊，指着那张椅子。他咬着嘴唇，皱着眉头，大笑着，在那张椅子上坐下，设法掩藏他那副遭受挫折、迟疑不决和不耐烦的神态；虽然他假装出对她的反复无常感到开心的样子，但他却紧张不安地咬着指甲，斜眼看着她，心情痛苦，狼狈不堪。
她把餐刀放到桌子上，用手按着胸膛，说道：
“我在这里藏着一个东西，它并不是爱情的玩意儿。我不容忍你再次接触我，否则我就毫不迟疑地用它来对付你，比对付其他任何爬行动物都更乐意。——我现在说话的时候，你知道它是什么了。”
他假装开玩笑地哈哈大笑，请求她把这出喜剧赶快演完，因为晚饭已渐渐冷了。但是他却又绷着脸，皱着眉头，更加郁郁不乐地偷偷看着她，并且小声咒骂了一声，在地板上跺了一下脚。
“你曾经多少次以你那厚颜无耻的流氓行为对我进行迫害与侮辱，”伊迪丝用极为深沉的眼光看着他，说道，“你曾经多少次用你那圆滑的态度和嘲弄的话语与神色来讽刺我的订婚与结婚？你曾经多少次把我对那位可爱的、受害的女孩子的爱的创伤暴露出来，并划破它？你曾经多么经常地煽旺了我在这两年间被煎熬的火焰，使我痛苦得身子翻来转去？在我感到最痛苦的时刻，你又怎样唆使我进行不顾死活的报复？”
“我毫不怀疑，夫人，你记了一笔好帐，帐目是相当精确的。”他回答道，“得了，伊迪丝。这对你的丈夫，那个可怜的家伙，倒是很合适的。”
“唔，”她说道，一边高傲地怀着轻蔑与厌恶的情绪观察着他；不论他想怎样鼓起勇气抵挡它，他还是不由自主地蜷缩着身子；“如果说，我鄙视他的其他各种原因都可以像羽毛似地被吹走的话，那么他们你当作谋士和亲信这个原因几乎就足够抵得上其他所有原因，使我毫不改变地鄙视他。”
“这就是你跟我逃跑的原因吗？”他嘲笑地反问道。
“是的，这也就是我们为什么最后一次面对面在一起的原因。卑鄙的人！我们今天夜里见面，今天夜里分离。因为我把话说完之后，不会在这里再待一秒钟！”
他面目狰狞地看着她，用手紧紧抓住桌子，但没有站起来，也没有回答她或威胁她。
“我是个从童年时代就受到羞辱并得到锻炼的女人。”她坚定地面对着他，说道，“我曾经被标价出卖，并遭到拒绝；我曾经被陈列出来拍卖，让人们估价，直到我内心深感厌恶为止。我的才能与技艺，本可成为我的娱乐，可是没有一件不被拿到市场上去炫示、贩卖，以增加我的身价，就像叫卖的人沿街大声叫卖一样。我的贫穷的、高傲的朋友们前来观看并进行赞扬；我们之间所有的纽带在我胸中都已断裂了。他们当中没有一个人我能像我关心一条我所喜爱的狗那样关心他。我在这世界上孤独一人，并很清楚地记住这世界对我是多么虚伪，而我本人又是它的多么虚伪的一部分。你知道这一点，你也知道我在社会上的名誉对我毫无价值。”
“是的，我猜想是这样，”他说道。
“你也正指望着这一点！”她回答道，“所以就来追求我。我已变得对一切太漠不关心，所以对那双把我塑造成现在这个样子的那双手的日常工作①，我只是漠不关心而不会提出任何反对。我知道，我结了婚至少可以阻止他们把我到处兜售；我听凭自己被可耻地卖出去，就像脖子上套着绳圈、在任何市场上被卖出去的任何女人一样。你知道这一点。”
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①指上帝安排日常世事。
“是的，”他露出所有的牙齿，说道，“我知道这一点。”
“你也正指望着这一点！”她回答道，“所以就来追求我。从我结婚的那一天起，我发现我面临着一种新的羞辱——面临着一位卑鄙的恶棍的勾引与追求（那就仿佛是用最粗野的文字写在纸上一样清楚，这张纸又经常不断地被塞到我的手里）；它使我感到，仿佛直到这时候我才开始明白屈辱是什么。这羞辱是我的丈夫给我安排好的，是他亲自把我关进羞辱的圈子中，是他亲自把我浸泡在羞辱的水中，而且自愿地重复做了几百次。就这样，这两个人迫使我失去了我的任何安宁，这两个人迫使我放弃了我内心最后剩余的一点爱与温情，或者给我的爱与温情的对象招致了新的不幸；就这样，我从一个人那里被赶到另一个人那里；当我避开了一个人的时候，我却被另一个人所困扰——，我对他们两人的愤怒几乎达到了发狂的地步。我不知道对谁更愤怒，是对主人呢还是对他的奴仆！”
当美丽的她以胜利者的姿态愤怒地站在他的面前时，他目不转睛地注视着她。他看到，她是坚决的，无畏的，对他就像对一个虫子一样，毫不害怕。
“关于荣誉或贞洁，我有什么可以对你说的呢！”她继续说下去，“这对你有什么意义呢，对我又有什么意义呢！可是如果我对你说，你的手稍稍碰到我一下，我的血就会由于厌恶而发冷；如果我对你说，从我第一次看到你和憎恨你的时候开始，直到现在，我对你愈益了解，我对你的本能的反感就愈益增强，因此，对我来说，你一直是一个我讨厌的东西，在世界上再也找不到它的同类了；可是如果我对你说这些，那么又将怎样呢？”
他轻轻地笑了一下，回答道，“是呀！那么又将怎样呢，我的皇后？”
“那天夜里，在那个你曾助了一臂之力的场面出现之后，你鼓起勇气，胆敢走进我的房间对我说话，”她说道，“那以后的事情是怎样的？”
他耸耸肩膀，又大笑着。
“那以后的事情是怎样的？”她又问道。
“你的记性很好，”他回答道，“我毫不怀疑，你能记得。”
“是的，我能，”她说道，“听着吧！那时你建议逃走——不是像这样的逃走，而是他你所想的那样逃走——；你对我说，因为我准许你进行那次会晤，让你可能在那里被找到（如果你认为那样是合适的话），因为我以前好多次允许你跟我单独在一起，并为这提供了机会（你是这样说的），还因为我直言不讳地向你承认，我对我的丈夫除了厌恶之外没有别的感情，而且我对我自己不关心，这样我就把我自己断送了；你还说，我给了你诽谤我名声的权力；我今后是否保住贞洁的声誉就全凭你怎么说了。”
“在爱情中的一切策略——”他笑嘻嘻地打断说，“古老的谚语——”
“在那天夜里，”伊迪丝说道，“我长久以来一直在进行的一个斗争终止了，那绝不是为关心我的美好名声而进行的斗争。我不知道是在跟什么进行斗争，——也许是在跟我内心剩余的那点爱与温情斗争吧。那天夜里，我除了愤怒与怨恨外，抛弃了其他一切感情。我打出一拳，它使你的傲慢的主人蒙受了奇耻大辱，并迫使你现在在这里站在我面前，望着我，并了解我的用意是什么。”
他大声地咀咒了一声，从椅子上跳了起来。她把手伸进怀里，没有一个手指发抖，没有一根头发动一动。他一动不动地站着，她也一动不动地站着，在他们中间隔着一张桌子和一把椅子。
“今后如果我已忘记这个人那天夜里就像他今天夜里又这样做的一样，把他的嘴唇压到我的嘴唇上，并把我搂在他的怀里的话，”伊迪丝指着他，说道，“今后如果我已忘记他的吻在我的脸颊（这是弗洛伦斯愿意将她天真无邪的小脸紧贴着的脸颊）上留下的污点的话，今后如果我已忘记当这污点还在我脸上发烧时，我曾经遇见她的话（当我看见她的时候，我突然思潮如涌地想起，我对她的爱会使她遭受迫害；我的逃走虽然可以使她免遭这种迫害，但我却由于自己不顾耻辱与堕落，给她的名声也蒙上了耻辱，造成了损害，因此在她的心中今后我将永远是一个她必须首先避开的罪人了），今后如果我把这一切都已忘记的话，那么，那时候，我的丈夫，从今以后我已与您离婚的丈夫，我将忘记最近的这两年，向您解释我所做的事情，使您醒悟过来！”
她闪闪发光的眼睛抬起一会儿，然后又停落在卡克身上；
她把左手里拿着的几封信向他递过去。
“看这些信！”她轻蔑地说道，“你把这些信寄给我，信封上还用你杜撰的名义来称呼我：一封信交到这里，其他的几封留在我路途中停留的地方。这些信全都没有拆开。拿回去吧。”
她把它们揉成一团，投掷在他的脚边。当她重新看着他的时候，她脸上露出一丝微笑。
“我们今天夜里见面，今天夜里分离，”她说道。“你对西西里的日子和淫荡欢乐的休息想得太早了。你本可以继续哄骗，继续溜须拍马，把你那奸诈的角色扮演得稍许长久一些，钱挣得更多一些。你已为贪恋女色的退隐生活付出了昂贵的代价了！”
“伊迪丝，”他做了个威胁的手势，回答道，“坐下，把这一套收起来吧！什么魔鬼附着在你身上了！”
“他们人数很多，”她回答道，一边高傲地挺直身子，仿佛她想要把他压碎似的，“你和你的主人把他们在适宜繁殖的房屋里养育起来；他们将把你们撕得粉碎！你对他虚伪；你对他的天真的孩子虚伪；你用各种手段在各个地方进行虚伪的勾当；现在你向前走吧，去吹嘘你对我的胜利吧，然后咬牙切齿地知道你是在撒谎吧！”
他站在她面前，抱怨着，威胁着，并愁眉苦脸地环视着四周，仿佛在寻找什么可以帮助他战胜她的东西似的；但是她跟先前一样坚强不屈地面对着他，毫不畏缩。
“在你所夸耀的每一个地方，我都取得了胜利；”她说道，“我把你当作我所知道的最卑鄙的人，当作那位高傲的暴君的寄生虫与工具挑选出来，这是为了使他的创伤可以更深些，更痛些；你去吹嘘吧，为我对他进行报复吧。你知道，你今天夜里是怎样到这里来的；你知道，你是怎样畏畏缩缩地站在那里的；如果你不能像我那样看到你自己那令人厌恶的真面目的话，那么你总能像我那样看到你自己那卑鄙的真面目了。
你去吹嘘吧，并为你自己对我进行报复吧。”
他的嘴里吐出白沫，额上流出汗珠。如果她曾经畏缩过哪怕一刹那的话，那么他就会捆住她的两只手；可是她像岩石一样坚定，她的锐利的眼光从没有离开过他。
“我们不能这样分离，”他说道，“难道你以为我这样愚蠢，会让你这样疯疯癫癫地走掉吗？”
“难道你以为，你能留得住我吗？”
“我要试一试，我亲爱的，”他的头凶猛地作了一个威胁的姿态。
“愿上帝怜悯你，如果你要试试走近我的话。”
“如果我以后不吹嘘、夸耀，那么怎么样呢？”他说道，“如果我已转变了，那么怎么样呢？”他的牙齿又闪出亮光。
“我们必须在这个问题上达成一项协议，否则我就会采取你所意想不到的步骤。坐下，坐下！”
“太晚了！”她喊道，眼睛似乎要冒出火星来了。“我已经把我的声望与名誉抛到九霄云外去了！我已决定忍受将落到我头上的耻辱；我知道它是我所不应当得到的——你也知道这一点，而他是不知道的，永远不能知道，也将永远不会知道的。我将无声无息、不作任何表白地死去！为了这个目的我在深更半夜单独跟你在一起。为了这个目的我以你的妻子这个虚假的名义在这里跟你会见。为了这个目的，我听凭这些仆人在这里看到我，然后把我在这里独自留下来。现在什么也不能救你了。”
如果他能把姿容美丽的她扎根在地板上，使她的胳膊垂落在身体两侧，使她完全听凭他摆布的话，那么他真愿意把他的灵魂出卖掉。可是他看到她的时候不能不害怕她。他看到在她身上有一股不可抗拒的力量。他看到她是不顾一切的，她对他的不能熄灭的憎恨不会在什么地方停住。他的眼光跟随着她，看到她怀着粗暴无情、毫不迁就的决心，把手伸进衣服，放在雪白的胸脯上；他想，如果她的手来打他、没打中的话，那么它就会很快接下去打她自己的胸脯的。
因此，他不敢走近她；但是他走进来的门是在他的身后，所以他就走回去把门锁上。
“最后，请听一下我的警告！你自己得当心点！”她又微笑着说道，“就像所有背信弃义的人一样，你已经被人出卖了。他已经知道，你现在在这里，或者将要到这里来，或者一直在这里。今天夜里我确实看见我的丈夫在街上乘坐在一辆四轮马车里！”
“婊子，你撒谎！”卡克喊道。
就在这时候，门厅里的铃大声响着。当她像女巫一样举起手来，在她的符咒的召唤下，传过来的时候，他的脸色发白了。
“听！你听到了吗？”
他用背顶着门；因为他看到她发生了点变化，以为她正走来想从他身边闪过去。可是她在片刻间走进对面通到卧室的门里去，把门砰地一声关上了。
一旦她有了转变，一旦她的坚定不屈的眼光转到别处，他觉得他就能对付她。他想这夜间警报引起的突然惊恐已经征服了她，因为就是没有这惊恐她也已过度疲劳了。他推开门急忙跟着她进去。
可是房间鱼黑洞洞的，他喊她她又没有回答，所以他只好回来拿灯。他把灯举得高高的，仔细观察着四周，指望她蹲伏在什么角落里；可是房间里空无一人。因此，他像一个在陌生地方走路的人那样迈着迟疑不决的步子，走进客厅，接着又走进餐厅，害怕地环视四周，并在屏风与躺椅后面窥视；可是她不在那里；她也不在门厅里，门厅里空荡荡的，他一眼就可以看得清清楚楚。
在这段时间里，铃声一直不断地重新震响着。外面一些人在敲门。他把灯放在离门较远的地方，走近门口，仔细倾听。有好几个在交谈，至少有两个人是说英语的。虽然门是厚实的，也很嘈杂，但他对当中一个人的熟悉极了，所以毫不怀疑这是谁的。
他又拿起灯，很快穿过所有的房间往回走；在离开每个房间的时候，他都停下脚步，把灯举得比头还高，往四下里看看有没有她。当他这样站在卧室里的时候，那扇通向墙中通道的门突然吸引了他的注意。他走到那扇门旁，发现它从外面被锁上了。不过她在穿过这扇门的时候，掉了一块面纱，它被夹在门缝里。
在这段时间里，楼上的人们一直在拉着铃并用手敲着门，用脚踢着门。
他并不是个胆小鬼，可是这些敲门的正不断传来；在这以前发生的事情使他意气懊丧；这个地方对他是生疏的（甚至当他从门厅回来的时候，这也使他感到慌乱）；他的计划已遭到失败（因为说起来奇怪，如果他取得成功的话，那么他会大胆得多）；现在的时间是很不合适的；他记起他在近处没有什么人可以请求给予友好的帮助；特别重要的是，他心中突然感觉到（这甚至使他的心感到像铅一样沉重），他已辜负了他的信任、奸诈地欺骗了他的那个人正拿着从他脸上摘下的假面具，在这里要寻到他，向他挑战；——所有这一切，使他感到恐慌。他试图弄开那扇夹着面纱的门，可是他怎么用力也弄不开。他打开一扇窗子，通过百叶窗的格子往下面的庭院里看；但是要往下跳实在太高了，地面上的石头是冷酷无情的。
铃声和敲门声依旧继续在响着——他也继续处在恐慌的状态中——，他回到卧室中的那扇门旁，重新做出努力，每一次都比上一次更顽强地使劲，终于把它扭开了。他看到小楼梯就在不远的地方，同时感觉到夜间的冷空气迎面袭来，于是就悄悄地又回来取帽子和外衣，并把他后面的门尽量关牢；然后他手里拿着灯，蹑手蹑脚地从梯子上走下去；当他看到街道的时候，他灭了灯，把它搁在一个角落里，并走到星光正在照耀着的外面。
Chapter 55
Rob the Grinder loses his Place
The Porter at the iron gate which shut the court-yard from the street, had left the little wicket of his house open, and was gone away; no doubt to mingle in the distant noise at the door of the great staircase. Lifting the latch softly, Carker crept out, and shutting the jangling gate after him with as little noise as possible, hurried off.
In the fever of his mortification and unavailing rage, the panic that had seized upon him mastered him completely. It rose to such a height that he would have blindly encountered almost any risk, rather than meet the man of whom, two hours ago, he had been utterly regardless. His fierce arrival, which he had never expected; the sound of his voice; their having been so near a meeting, face to face; he would have braved out this, after the first momentary shock of alarm, and would have put as bold a front upon his guilt as any villain. But the springing of his mine upon himself, seemed to have rent and shivered all his hardihood and self-reliance. Spurned like any reptile; entrapped and mocked; turned upon, and trodden down by the proud woman whose mind he had slowly poisoned, as he thought, until she had sunk into the mere creature of his pleasure; undeceived in his deceit, and with his fox's hide stripped off, he sneaked away, abashed, degraded, and afraid.
Some other terror came upon hIm quite removed from this of being pursued, suddenly, like an electric shock, as he was creeping through the streets Some visionary terror, unintelligible and inexplicable, asssociated with a trembling of the ground, - a rush and sweep of something through the air, like Death upon the wing. He shrunk, as if to let the thing go by. It was not gone, it never had been there, yet what a startling horror it had left behind.
He raised his wicked face so full of trouble, to the night sky, where the stars, so full of peace, were shining on him as they had been when he first stole out into the air; and stopped to think what he should do. The dread of being hunted in a strange remote place, where the laws might not protect him - the novelty of the feeling that it was strange and remote, originating in his being left alone so suddenly amid the ruins of his plans - his greater dread of seeking refuge now, in Italy or in Sicily, where men might be hired to assissinate him, he thought, at any dark street corner-the waywardness of guilt and fear - perhaps some sympathy of action with the turning back of all his schemes - impelled him to turn back too, and go to England.
'I am safer there, in any case. If I should not decide,' he thought, 'to give this fool a meeting, I am less likely to be traced there, than abroad here, now. And if I should (this cursed fit being over), at least I shall not be alone, with out a soul to speak to, or advise with, or stand by me. I shall not be run in upon and worried like a rat.'
He muttered Edith's name, and clenched his hand. As he crept along, in the shadow of the massive buildings, he set his teeth, and muttered dreadful imprecations on her head, and looked from side to side, as if in search of her. Thus, he stole on to the gate of an inn-yard. The people were a-bed; but his ringing at the bell soon produced a man with a lantern, in company with whom he was presently in a dim coach-house, bargaining for the hire of an old phaeton, to Paris.
The bargain was a short one; and the horses were soon sent for. Leaving word that the carriage was to follow him when they came, he stole away again, beyond the town, past the old ramparts, out on the open road, which seemed to glide away along the dark plain, like a stream.
Whither did it flow? What was the end of it? As he paused, with some such suggestion within him, looking over the gloomy flat where the slender trees marked out the way, again that flight of Death came rushing up, again went on, impetuous and resistless, again was nothing but a horror in his mind, dark as the scene and undefined as its remotest verge.
There was no wind; there was no passing shadow on the deep shade of the night; there was no noise. The city lay behind hIm, lighted here and there, and starry worlds were hidden by the masonry of spire and roof that hardly made out any shapes against the sky. Dark and lonely distance lay around him everywhere, and the clocks were faintly striking two.
He went forward for what appeared a long time, and a long way; often stopping to listen. At last the ringing of horses' bells greeted his anxious ears. Now softer, and now louder, now inaudible, now ringing very slowly over bad ground, now brisk and merry, it came on; until with a loud shouting and lashing, a shadowy postillion muffled to the eyes, checked his four struggling horses at his side.
'Who goes there! Monsieur?'
'Yes.'
'Monsieur has walked a long way in the dark midnight.'
'No matter. Everyone to his task. Were there any other horses ordered at the Post-house?'
'A thousand devils! - and pardons! other horses? at this hour? No.'
'Listen, my friend. I am much hurried. Let us see how fast we can travel! The faster, the more money there will be to drink. Off we go then! Quick!'
'Halloa! whoop! Halloa! Hi!' Away, at a gallop, over the black landscape, scattering the dust and dirt like spray!
The clatter and commotion echoed to the hurry and discordance of the fugitive's ideas. Nothing clear without, and nothing clear within. Objects flitting past, merging into one another, dimly descried, confusedly lost sight of, gone! Beyond the changing scraps of fence and cottage immediately upon the road, a lowering waste. Beyond the shifting images that rose up in his mind and vanished as they showed themselves, a black expanse of dread and rage and baffled villainy. Occasionally, a sigh of mountain air came from the distant Jura, fading along the plain. Sometimes that rush which was so furious and horrible, again came sweeping through his fancy, passed away, and left a chill upon his blood.
The lamps, gleaming on the medley of horses' heads, jumbled with the shadowy driver, and the fluttering of his cloak, made a thousand indistinct shapes, answering to his thoughts. Shadows of familiar people, stooping at their desks and books, in their remembered attitudes; strange apparitions of the man whom he was flying from, or of Edith; repetitions in the ringing bells and rolling wheels, of words that had been spoken; confusions of time and place, making last night a month ago, a month ago last night - home now distant beyond hope, now instantly accessible; commotion, discord, hurry, darkness, and confusion in his mind, and all around him. - Hallo! Hi! away at a gallop over the black landscape; dust and dirt flying like spray, the smoking horses snorting and plunging as if each of them were ridden by a demon, away in a frantic triumph on the dark road - whither?
Again the nameless shock comes speeding up, and as it passes, the bells ring in his ears 'whither?' The wheels roar in his ears 'whither?' All the noise and rattle shapes itself into that cry. The lights and shadows dance upon the horses' heads like imps. No stopping now: no slackening! On, on Away with him upon the dark road wildly!
He could not think to any purpose. He could not separate one subject of reflection from another, sufficiently to dwell upon it, by itself, for a minute at a time. The crash of his project for the gaining of a voluptuous compensation for past restraint; the overthrow of his treachery to one who had been true and generous to him, but whose least proud word and look he had treasured up, at interest, for years - for false and subtle men will always secretly despise and dislike the object upon which they fawn and always resent the payment and receipt of homage that they know to be worthless; these were the themes uppermost in his mind. A lurking rage against the woman who had so entrapped him and avenged herself was always there; crude and misshapen schemes of retaliation upon her, floated in his brain; but nothing was distinct. A hurry and contradiction pervaded all his thoughts. Even while he was so busy with this fevered, ineffectual thinking, his one constant idea was, that he would postpone reflection until some indefinite time.
Then, the old days before the second marriage rose up in his remembrance. He thought how jealous he had been of the boy, how jealous he had been of the girl, how artfully he had kept intruders at a distance, and drawn a circle round his dupe that none but himself should cross; and then he thought, had he done all this to be flying now, like a scared thief, from only the poor dupe?
He could have laid hands upon himself for his cowardice, but it was the very shadow of his defeat, and could not be separated from it. To have his confidence in his own knavery so shattered at a blow - to be within his own knowledge such a miserable tool - was like being paralysed. With an impotent ferocity he raged at Edith, and hated Mr Dombey and hated himself, but still he fled, and could do nothing else.
Again and again he listened for the sound of wheels behind. Again and again his fancy heard it, coming on louder and louder. At last he was so persuaded of this, that he cried out, 'Stop' preferring even the loss of ground to such uncertainty.
The word soon brought carriage, horses, driver, all in a heap together, across the road.
'The devil!' cried the driver, looking over his shoulder, 'what's the matter?'
'Hark! What's that?'
'What?'
'That noise?'
'Ah Heaven, be quiet, cursed brigand!' to a horse who shook his bells 'What noise?'
'Behind. Is it not another carriage at a gallop? There! what's that?' Miscreant with a Pig's head, stand still!' to another horse, who bit another, who frightened the other two, who plunged and backed. 'There is nothing coming.'
'Nothing.'
'No, nothing but the day yonder.'
'You are right, I think. I hear nothing now, indeed. Go on!'
The entangled equipage, half hidden in the reeking cloud from the horses, goes on slowly at first, for the driver, checked unnecessarily in his progress, sulkily takes out a pocket-knife, and puts a new lash to his whip. Then 'Hallo, whoop! Hallo, hi!' Away once more, savagely.
And now the stars faded, and the day glimmered, and standing in the carriage, looking back, he could discern the track by which he had come, and see that there was no traveller within view, on all the heavy expanse. And soon it was broad day, and the sun began to shine on cornfields and vineyards; and solitary labourers, risen from little temporary huts by heaps of stones upon the road, were, here and there, at work repairing the highway, or eating bread. By and by, there were peasants going to their daily labour, or to market, or lounging at the doors of poor cottages, gazing idly at him as he passed. And then there was a postyard, ankle-deep in mud, with steaming dunghills and vast outhouses half ruined; and looking on this dainty prospect, an immense, old, shadeless, glaring, stone chateau, with half its windows blinded, and green damp crawling lazily over it, from the balustraded terrace to the taper tips of the extinguishers upon the turrets.
Gathered up moodily in a corner of the carriage, and only intent on going fast - except when he stood up, for a mile together, and looked back; which he would do whenever there was a piece of open country - he went on, still postponing thought indefinitely, and still always tormented with thinking to no purpose.
Shame, disappointment, and discomfiture gnawed at his heart; a constant apprehension of being overtaken, or met - for he was groundlessly afraid even of travellers, who came towards him by the way he was going - oppressed him heavily. The same intolerable awe and dread that had come upon him in the night, returned unweakened in the day. The monotonous ringing of the bells and tramping of the horses; the monotony of his anxiety, and useless rage; the monotonous wheel of fear, regret, and passion, he kept turning round and round; made the journey like a vision, in which nothing was quite real but his own torment.
It was a vision of long roads, that stretched away to an horizon, always receding and never gained; of ill-paved towns, up hill and down, where faces came to dark doors and ill-glazed windows, and where rows of mudbespattered cows and oxen were tied up for sale in the long narrow streets, butting and lowing, and receiving blows on their blunt heads from bludgeons that might have beaten them in; of bridges, crosses, churches, postyards, new horses being put in against their wills, and the horses of the last stage reeking, panting, and laying their drooping heads together dolefully at stable doors; of little cemeteries with black crosses settled sideways in the graves, and withered wreaths upon them dropping away; again of long, long roads, dragging themselves out, up hill and down, to the treacherous horizon.
Of morning, noon, and sunset; night, and the rising of an early moon. Of long roads temporarily left behind, and a rough pavement reached; of battering and clattering over it, and looking up, among house-roofs, at a great church-tower; of getting out and eating hastily, and drinking draughts of wine that had no cheering influence; of coming forth afoot, among a host of beggars - blind men with quivering eyelids, led by old women holding candles to their faces; idiot girls; the lame, the epileptic, and the palsied - of passing through the clamour, and looking from his seat at the upturned countenances and outstretched hands, with a hurried dread of recognising some pursuer pressing forward - of galloping away again, upon the long, long road, gathered up, dull and stunned, in his corner, or rising to see where the moon shone faintly on a patch of the same endless road miles away, or looking back to see who followed.
Of never sleeping, but sometimes dozing with unclosed eyes, and springing up with a start, and a reply aloud to an imaginary voice. Of cursing himself for being there, for having fled, for having let her go, for not having confronted and defied him. Of having a deadly quarrel with the whole world, but chiefly with himself. Of blighting everything with his black mood as he was carried on and away.
It was a fevered vision of things past and present all confounded together; of his life and journey blended into one. Of being madly hurried somewhere, whither he must go. Of old scenes starting up among the novelties through which he travelled. Of musing and brooding over what was past and distant, and seeming to take no notice of the actual objects he encountered, but with a wearisome exhausting consciousness of being bewildered by them, and having their images all crowded in his hot brain after they were gone.
A vision of change upon change, and still the same monotony of bells and wheels, and horses' feet, and no rest. Of town and country, postyards, horses, drivers, hill and valley, light and darkness, road and pavement, height and hollow, wet weather and dry, and still the same monotony of bells and wheels, and horses' feet, and no rest. A vision of tending on at last, towards the distant capital, by busier roads, and sweeping round, by old cathedrals, and dashing through small towns and villages, less thinly scattered on the road than formerly, and sitting shrouded in his corner, with his cloak up to his face, as people passing by looked at him.
Of rolling on and on, always postponing thought, and always racked with thinking; of being unable to reckon up the hours he had been upon the road, or to comprehend the points of time and place in his journey. Of being parched and giddy, and half mad. Of pressing on, in spite of all, as if he could not stop, and coming into Paris, where the turbid river held its swift course undisturbed, between two brawling streams of life and motion.
A troubled vision, then, of bridges, quays, interminable streets; of wine-shops, water-carriers, great crowds of people, soldiers, coaches, military drums, arcades. Of the monotony of bells and wheels and horses' feet being at length lost in the universal din and uproar. Of the gradual subsidence of that noise as he passed out in another carriage by a different barrier from that by which he had entered. Of the restoration, as he travelled on towards the seacoast, of the monotony of bells and wheels, and horses' feet, and no rest.
Of sunset once again, and nightfall. Of long roads again, and dead of night, and feeble lights in windows by the roadside; and still the old monotony of bells and wheels, and horses' feet, and no rest. Of dawn, and daybreak, and the rising of the sun. Of tolling slowly up a hill, and feeling on its top the fresh sea-breeze; and seeing the morning light upon the edges of the distant waves. Of coming down into a harbour when the tide was at its full, and seeing fishing-boats float on, and glad women and children waiting for them. Of nets and seamen's clothes spread out to dry upon the shore; of busy saIlors, and their voices high among ships' masts and rigging; of the buoyancy and brightness of the water, and the universal sparkling.
Of receding from the coast, and looking back upon it from the deck when it was a haze upon the water, with here and there a little opening of bright land where the Sun struck. Of the swell, and flash, and murmur of the calm sea. Of another grey line on the ocean, on the vessel's track, fast growing clearer and higher. Of cliffs and buildings, and a windmill, and a church, becoming more and more visible upon it. Of steaming on at last into smooth water, and mooring to a pier whence groups of people looked down, greeting friends on board. Of disembarking, passing among them quickly, shunning every one; and of being at last again in England.
He had thought, in his dream, of going down into a remote country-place he knew, and lying quiet there, while he secretly informed himself of what transpired, and determined how to act, Still in the same stunned condition, he remembered a certain station on the railway, where he would have to branch off to his place of destination, and where there was a quiet Inn. Here, he indistinctly resolved to tarry and rest.
With this purpose he slunk into a railway carriage as quickly as he could, and lying there wrapped in his cloak as if he were asleep, was soon borne far away from the sea, and deep into the inland green. Arrived at his destination he looked out, and surveyed it carefully. He was not mistaken in his impression of the place. It was a retired spot, on the borders of a little wood. Only one house, newly-built or altered for the purpose, stood there, surrounded by its neat garden; the small town that was nearest, was some miles away. Here he alighted then; and going straight into the tavern, unobserved by anyone, secured two rooms upstairs communicating with each other, and sufficiently retired.
His object was to rest, and recover the command of himself, and the balance of his mind. Imbecile discomfiture and rage - so that, as he walked about his room, he ground his teeth - had complete possession of him. His thoughts, not to be stopped or directed, still wandered where they would, and dragged him after them. He was stupefied, and he was wearied to death.
But, as if there were a curse upon him that he should never rest again, his drowsy senses would not lose their consciousness. He had no more influence with them, in this regard, than if they had been another man's. It was not that they forced him to take note of present sounds and objects, but that they would not be diverted from the whole hurried vision of his journey. It was constantly before him all at once. She stood there, with her dark disdainful eyes again upon him; and he was riding on nevertheless, through town and country, light and darkness, wet weather and dry, over road and pavement, hill and valley, height and hollow, jaded and scared by the monotony of bells and wheels, and horses' feet, and no rest.
'What day is this?' he asked of the waiter, who was making preparations for his dinner.
'Day, Sir?'
'Is it Wednesday?'
'Wednesday, Sir? No, Sir. Thursday, Sir.'
'I forgot. How goes the time? My watch is unwound.'
'Wants a few minutes of five o'clock, Sir. Been travelling a long time, Sir, perhaps?'
'Yes'
'By rail, Sir?'
'Yes'
'Very confusing, Sir. Not much in the habit of travelling by rail myself, Sir, but gentlemen frequently say so.'
'Do many gentlemen come here?
'Pretty well, Sir, in general. Nobody here at present. Rather slack just now, Sir. Everything is slack, Sir.'
He made no answer; but had risen into a sitting posture on the sofa where he had been lying, and leaned forward with an arm on each knee, staring at the ground. He could not master his own attention for a minute together. It rushed away where it would, but it never, for an instant, lost itself in sleep.
He drank a quantity of wine after dinner, in vain. No such artificial means would bring sleep to his eyes. His thoughts, more incoherent, dragged him more unmercifully after them - as if a wretch, condemned to such expiation, were drawn at the heels of wild horses. No oblivion, and no rest.
How long he sat, drinking and brooding, and being dragged in imagination hither and thither, no one could have told less correctly than he. But he knew that he had been sitting a long time by candle-light, when he started up and listened, in a sudden terror.
For now, indeed, it was no fancy. The ground shook, the house rattled, the fierce impetuous rush was in the air! He felt it come up, and go darting by; and even when he had hurried to the window, and saw what it was, he stood, shrinking from it, as if it were not safe to look.
A curse upon the fiery devil, thundering along so smoothly, tracked through the distant valley by a glare of light and lurid smoke, and gone! He felt as if he had been plucked out of its path, and saved from being torn asunder. It made him shrink and shudder even now, when its faintest hum was hushed, and when the lines of iron road he could trace in the moonlight, running to a point, were as empty and as silent as a desert.
Unable to rest, and irresistibly attracted - or he thought so - to this road, he went out, and lounged on the brink of it, marking the way the train had gone, by the yet smoking cinders that were lying in its track. After a lounge of some half hour in the direction by which it had disappeared, he turned and walked the other way - still keeping to the brink of the road - past the inn garden, and a long way down; looking curiously at the bridges, signals, lamps, and wondering when another Devil would come by.
A trembling of the ground, and quick vibration in his ears; a distant shriek; a dull light advancing, quickly changed to two red eyes, and a fierce fire, dropping glowing coals; an irresistible bearing on of a great roaring and dilating mass; a high wind, and a rattle - another come and gone, and he holding to a gate, as if to save himself!
He waited for another, and for another. He walked back to his former point, and back again to that, and still, through the wearisome vision of his journey, looked for these approaching monsters. He loitered about the station, waiting until one should stay to call there; and when one did, and was detached for water, he stood parallel with it, watching its heavy wheels and brazen front, and thinking what a cruel power and might it had. Ugh! To see the great wheels slowly turning, and to think of being run down and crushed!
Disordered with wine and want of rest - that want which nothing, although he was so weary, would appease - these ideas and objects assumed a diseased importance in his thoughts. When he went back to his room, which was not until near midnight, they still haunted him, and he sat listening for the coming of another.
So in his bed, whither he repaired with no hope of sleep. He still lay listening; and when he felt the trembling and vibration, got up and went to the window, to watch (as he could from its position) the dull light changing to the two red eyes, and the fierce fire dropping glowing coals, and the rush of the giant as it fled past, and the track of glare and smoke along the valley. Then he would glance in the direction by which he intended to depart at sunrise, as there was no rest for him there; and would lie down again, to be troubled by the vision of his journey, and the old monotony of bells and wheels and horses' feet, until another came. This lasted all night. So far from resuming the mastery of himself, he seemed, if possible, to lose it more and more, as the night crept on. When the dawn appeared, he was still tormented with thinking, still postponing thought until he should be in a better state; the past, present, and future all floated confusedly before him, and he had lost all power of looking steadily at any one of them.
'At what time,' he asked the man who had waited on hIm over-night, now entering with a candle, 'do I leave here, did you say?'
'About a quarter after four, Sir. Express comes through at four, Sir. - It don't stop.
He passed his hand across his throbbing head, and looked at his watch. Nearly half-past three.
'Nobody going with you, Sir, probably,' observed the man. 'Two gentlemen here, Sir, but they're waiting for the train to London.'
'I thought you said there was nobody here,' said Carker, turning upon him with the ghost of his old smile, when he was angry or suspicious.
'Not then, sir. Two gentlemen came in the night by the short train that stops here, Sir. Warm water, Sir?'
'No; and take away the candle. There's day enough for me.'
Having thrown himself upon the bed, half-dressed he was at the window as the man left the room. The cold light of morning had succeeded to night and there was already, in the sky, the red suffusion of the coming sun. He bathed his head and face with water - there was no cooling influence in it for him - hurriedly put on his clothes, paid what he owed, and went out.
The air struck chill and comfortless as it breathed upon him. There was a heavy dew; and, hot as he was, it made him shiver. After a glance at the place where he had walked last night, and at the signal-lights burning in the morning, and bereft of their significance, he turned to where the sun was rising, and beheld it, in its glory, as it broke upon the scene.
So awful, so transcendent in its beauty, so divinely solemn. As he cast his faded eyes upon it, where it rose, tranquil and serene, unmoved by all the wrong and wickedness on which its beams had shone since the beginning of the world, who shall say that some weak sense of virtue upon Earth, and its in Heaven, did not manifest itself, even to him? If ever he remembered sister or brother with a touch of tenderness and remorse, who shall say it was not then?
He needed some such touch then. Death was on him. He was marked off - the living world, and going down into his grave.
He paid the money for his journey to the country-place he had thought of; and was walking to and fro, alone, looking along the lines of iron, across the valley in one direction, and towards a dark bridge near at hand in the other; when, turning in his walk, where it was bounded by one end of the wooden stage on which he paced up and down, he saw the man from whom he had fled, emerging from the door by which he himself had entered
And their eyes met.
In the quick unsteadiness of the surprise, he staggered, and slipped on to the road below him. But recovering his feet immediately, he stepped back a pace or two upon that road, to interpose some wider space between them, and looked at his pursuer, breathing short and quick.
He heard a shout - another - saw the face change from its vindictive passion to a faint sickness and terror - felt the earth tremble - knew in a moment that the rush was come - uttered a shriek - looked round - saw the red eyes, bleared and dim, in the daylight, close upon him - was beaten down, caught up, and whirled away upon a jagged mill, that spun him round and round, and struck him limb from limb, and licked his stream of life up with its fiery heat, and cast his mutilated fragments in the air.
When the traveller, who had been recognised, recovered from a swoon, he saw them bringing from a distance something covered, that lay heavy and still, upon a board, between four men, and saw that others drove some dogs away that sniffed upon the road, and soaked his blood up, with a train of ashes.
在院子临街的那边有一道铁的大门，看门人让旁边的小门开着，他已经走开，无疑是混在远处大楼梯门边发出嘈杂的人群当中了。卡克轻轻地提起门闩，悄悄地溜到外面，并把后面嘎吱作响的门关上，尽可能不让它发出大声，然后急急忙忙离开了。
他觉得自己遭到屈辱，心中怀着无益的愤怒；在这种狂热的情绪中，他心头的恐慌完全主宰了他。它已达到了这样的程度：他宁肯盲目地遇到任何危险，也不愿意碰上他在两小时以前毫不注意的那个人。他完全没有料想到他会突然气势汹汹地来到；他听到了他说话的；他们刚才几乎就面对面相遇，这些情况使卡克在第一分钟内惊慌得头昏眼花，但他不久就能硬着头皮，沉着冷静地把它们顶住，像任何无赖一样厚颜无耻地对待自己犯下的罪行。然而他埋设的地雷竟在自己身上炸开，这一点似乎已破坏和动摇了他全部的刚毅与自信。那位高傲的女人，他原以为他已慢慢地毒害了她的思想，直到她已沦落为他寻欢作乐的工具；可是她却把他像爬虫似地踢在一旁，让他陷入圈套，并嘲弄他，责骂他，把他踩得粉碎；他想要欺骗别人，别人没有上当，自己反倒受了骗；他的狐狸皮已经被剥掉了；如今他又羞愧，又受到屈辱，又害怕地偷偷溜走了。
当他正蹑手蹑脚地穿过街道的时候，与这被人追赶的恐怖绝不相同的另一种恐怖突然像一道电流一样袭击着他。这是某种莫名其妙的、无法解释的幻想的恐怖，它使人联想起土地的颤抖——某种东西像死神展开翅膀飞行一样，向前猛冲过去，飞快地吹刮过去。他蜷缩着身子，仿佛要给那个东西让开道路似的，但它并没有过去，因为它从来就不在那里，可是它却留下了多么令人吃惊的恐怖啊！
他抬起他的邪恶的、充满忧虑的脸，仰望着夜空；夜空中十分宁静的星星就像他起初偷偷地走到外面的时候一样，正照耀着他。他停下脚步，想一下他现在该做什么。他害怕在一个陌生的、遥远的地方被人追赶，这里的法律可能是不会保护他的；——他新奇地感觉到，这个城市是个陌生的、遥远的地方；这个感觉是在他的计划遭到失败之后，他突然间成了孤独一人的情况下产生的；——他现在更害怕到意大利或西西里去避难；他想，被雇用的凶手可能会在那里一个黑暗的街道拐角里暗杀他；——由于罪过与恐惧，使他产生出反复无常的思想；——也许是由于他所有的计划全都遭到失败，因此他就有某种不想按原先意图行事的相应的心理；——所有这些都驱策他回到英国去。
“无论如何，我在英国要安全一些。”他想，“如果我决意不跟这个疯子见面的话，那么在英国寻找到我要比在这他乡异国寻找到我难得多。如果我决定跟他见面（当他这阵可恶的疯狂症过去以后）的话，那么至少我将不会像现在这样孤独一人，没有一个人我可以与他交谈、商量或他来帮助我。我将不会像一只耗子一样地被追逐和折磨。”
他抱怨地说到伊迪丝的名字，同时紧握着拳头。当他在高大的房屋的阴影下偷偷地向前走去的时候，他咬牙切齿，向她发出了最可怕的诅咒，同时左顾右盼，仿佛在寻找她似的。他就这样悄悄地走到一个客栈院子的门前。客栈里的人都已睡觉了。但是他拉了一下铃，立刻就有一个人提着灯笼出来，他们很快就一起到了一个马车房前，租一辆旧的二马四轮轻便马车前往巴黎的事情商议着价钱。
价钱很快就商议定了，立刻派人去把马拉来。他吩咐马来了以后就让马车跟随着他来，然后又悄悄离开，走出城外，经过古老的堡垒，一直走到大路上；这条大路似乎像一条溪流一样，在黑暗的平原上流动。
它流到哪里去？哪里是它的尽头？他心里想着这些事情，停住脚步，望着阴暗的平野和由细长的树木显示出的道路；这时候死神又展开翅膀，迅疾地飞来，然后又猛烈地、不可抗拒地飞过去，除了在他的心中留下恐怖外，又没有留下什么别的。那恐怖就像周围的风景一样黑暗，并像它的最遥远的边缘一样朦胧不清。
没有风；在深沉的夜色中没有闪过一个阴影；没有喧闹的。城市静躺在他的后面，在这里那里闪烁着灯光；尖塔与屋顶矗立在天空中，几乎显露不出形状，并遮挡着星星的世界。在他四周是茫茫一片黑暗与荒凉的地方；钟轻轻地敲了两下。
他觉得他已走了好久，并走过了长长的一段路程，他在中间时常停下来听一听。终于马的铃铛声传到了他的焦急的耳朵中。铃铛的有时轻一些，有时响一些，有时听不见，有时在经过坏的道路时断断续续，有时则活泼、轻快；最后，愈来愈近，一位身影模糊、围巾一直围到眼睛下面、骑在左马上的马夫响亮地吆喝了一声和劈啪地抽了一下鞭子，把四匹奋力前进的马拉住，停在他的身边。
“那里走的是谁，是Monsieur吗？”
“是的。”
“Monsieur在这黑咕隆咚的深更半夜已走了好长的一段路啦。”
“不要紧。每个人都有自己的爱好。有没有别人在驿馆要马的？”
“一千个魔鬼在捣乱！请原谅！有没有别人要马？在这种时候？没有。”
“听着，我的朋友。我十分着急。让我们看看我们能往前赶得多快！赶得愈快，您得到的酒钱就会愈多。出发吧！快！”
“嗨！嗬！嗨！嘿！”马飞快奔驰起来，越过了黑暗的原野，把尘土踢得像浪花似地四处飞扬！
马蹄的得得声和马车的摇晃反映出逃亡者慌忙与混乱的思想。他身外的一切是模糊不清的，他心中的一切也是模糊不清的。物体在迅速飞过，彼此融合，模糊难辨，在纷杂混乱中不见了，消失了！在路旁不断变化着的零零落落的篱笆与村舍外面，是一片昏暗的荒地。在他心中出现而又立即消逝的变动的形象外面，是一个广袤无边的世界，充满了恐惧、愤怒和未能得逞的奸诈。偶尔，从遥远的侏罗山脉①山风的呼啸声，在平原上逐渐消失。有时他在想象中觉得那猛烈的、可怕的恐怖又猛袭过来，吹刮过去，使他的血都变冷了。
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①侏罗山脉（Jura）：一译汝拉山脉，是法国与西班牙之间的山脉。
车灯发射出微光，照射在晃动着的马头上，它与身影模糊的车夫以及他的飘动的上衣混杂交错，形成了上千种模糊不清的形状，这与他的思想状态倒是十分相似的。那些熟悉的人们的身影，以他所记得的姿态，弯着身子，坐在办公桌和帐册前面；他从他那里逃出来的那个人或伊迪丝呈现出奇怪的幻影；在铃铛声与车轮声中，那些过去说过的话现在正在不断重复说着；时间与地点的概念混乱了：昨夜好像是一个月以前，一个月以前又好像是昨夜；家乡一会儿远在天边，一会儿又近在眼前；动荡，纷争，慌忙，黑暗，他心中和他的周围全都是一片混乱。——嗨！嘿！在黑暗的原野上飞快地奔跑过去；尘土像浪花般飞扬，浑身冒着热气的马喷着鼻息，向前猛冲，仿佛每匹马背上都骑着一个魔鬼似的，在发狂似的胜利中在黑暗的道路上飞奔过去——奔向哪里去呢？
那不可名状的惊恐又加速袭来；当它过去的时候，铃铛在他耳朵里响着：“到哪里去？”飞轮在他耳朵里轰鸣着：“到哪里去？”所有的喧闹与声响都在重复着这同一个喊声。灯光和影子像顽童似地在马头上跳舞。现在决不能停下来；现在决不能放慢速度！向前，向前！在黑暗的道路上拉着他疯狂地向前奔跑！
他不能按照任何一个特定的目的来思考。他不能把一个思考的问题与另一个思考的问题分开，要想每次对一个问题细想一分钟也不可能。他本想得到肉欲的满足来补偿自我抑制方面的损失，这一打算已经破灭了；有一个人曾经真诚地、宽洪大量地对待他，但是他的高傲的言语与神色他好多年来一直铭记在心（因为虚伪与狡猾的人经常在暗地里轻视与厌恶他们所奉承的对象，经常憎恨他们所表示的尊敬，他们知道那是毫无价值的），他对这个人的叛逆已经失败了；——这些是首先浮现在他心中的问题。对那位使他陷入圈套、为自己报仇雪恨的女人的愤怒一直暗暗埋藏在他的心头；对她进行报复的各种粗略的、荒诞的计划浮现在他的脑中；可是所有这一切都是模糊不清的。他所有这些思想全都是急急匆匆，相互矛盾的。甚至当他这样狂热地、无益地思考着的时候，他一直怀着一个念头，就是他最好暂时什么也不想，而把这些推迟到将来一个什么不确定的时候再去考虑。
然后，在董贝先生第二次结婚之前那些往昔的日子又在他的记忆中出现。他记起他曾经妒嫉那个男孩子；他又曾经多么妒嫉那个女孩子；他曾经多么狡猾地在被他愚弄的人的周围划了一个圈子，把所有想闯进来的人阻挡在远处；除了他本人之外，谁也不能越过它。然后他想到，他所做的这一切难道只都是为了现在像一个被追捕的贼一样，从那位可怜的、被他愚弄的人那里逃走吗？
他本可以自杀来惩罚自己的懦怯，可是这种懦怯正好就是他失败的真正的阴影，与它是不能分开的。他相信他的诈骗计划已被完全粉碎；他知道他已成了另一个人手中可怜的工具；想到这些他就好像瘫痪似地浑身无力。怀着无能为力的狂暴劲头，他对伊迪丝发怒，他恨董贝先生，也恨他自己；
可是他还是逃跑了，不能做其他事情。
他一次又一次地听着后面的车轮声。他一次又一次地在想象中仿佛感觉到，这车轮声愈来愈响了。他终于对这点深信不疑，就喊道，“停下！”他宁肯停下耽误时间，对自己不利，也不愿意处在这种狐疑不定的状态中。
这喊声立刻使马车、马和马车夫在路中间停了下来。
“见鬼！”马车夫回过头，喊道，“怎么回事？”
“听，那是什么？”
“什么？”
“那？”
“啊，老天爷，安静点，你这可恶的土匪！”他对一匹摇着铃铛的马说道，“什么？”
“后面。是不是另外一辆马车正飞奔过来？那里！那是什么，听到了吗？”
“你这长得跟猪头一样的恶棍！安安静静站着！”他对另一匹马说道；这一匹马咬了另一匹马，那一匹马又惊吓了另外两匹；它们向前猛冲过去，然后又倒退回来。
“没有什么往这边来。”
“没有什么吗？”
“没有什么，只是天快亮了。”
“我想您说得不错。真的，我现在什么也没听到了。继续赶路吧！”
在马身上散发出的烟雾腾腾的热气之中半隐半现的马车开始慢吞吞地前进；马车夫因为在前进道路中被不必要地阻留了好些时间，不高兴地从衣袋中取出一把小刀，在鞭子上装上一条新的皮条。然后“嗨！嗬！嗨！嘿！”，又一次狂野地飞跑起来。
这时星星暗淡，晨光熹微，他站在马车中，回头看，可以分辨出他所走过的道路，并注意到在辽阔的原野上看不见一个赶路的人。不久天大亮了，太阳照亮了麦田和葡萄园。从路旁石头堆边临时性工棚里出来的一个个工人正在这里那里修着公路或吃着面包。不久农民们出来干活或赶市集，或懒洋洋地靠在破旧的茅舍门边，悠闲地注视着他从旁经过。然后他看到一个驿站，前面是深及踝骨的泥浆，四周是冒着热气的粪堆和很大的半毁坏的房屋；面对着这个优雅的景色的是一座巨大的、古老的石头城堡，它没有树木遮荫，发出耀眼的光，有一半窗子已遮上窗帘，绿色的霉懒散地在城堡上面蔓延，从围了栏杆的阳台一直扩展到塔楼上灭火器的锥形尖端。
他郁郁不乐地蜷缩在马车的一个角落里，一心只盼望着车子快快地跑；只有当周围是一片空旷的田野的时候，他才会站起来，站上整整一英里的路程，并往后看；——他就这样往前赶着路，依旧把那些思想暂时搁置起来，往后推到将来一个不确定的时候，同时依旧常常被那些没有目的的思想苦恼着。
羞耻、失望与失败折磨着他的心。他不断担心被追赶上或被碰见（因为他毫无根据地甚至连对面路上朝他走过来的行人都害怕），因此心情十分沉重。夜间，他感到难以忍受的畏惧和忧愁，到了白天它们又毫不减弱地重新返回。单调的铃铛声和马蹄声，他那毫无变化的焦急和无益的愤怒，周而复始的害怕、懊悔与痛苦，这一切他觉得这次旅行像是个梦幻，在这梦幻中，除了他自己的痛苦外，没有什么是真实的。
这是一个梦幻，在这梦幻中有一条漫长的道路，它伸向一直不断向后退、永远也不能到达的地平线；在这梦幻中有路面铺砌得很坏的城镇，在丘陵上面和下面都有；人们从黑暗的门户与没有擦亮的窗子中露出脸来；身上溅满污泥的母牛和公牛一行行地系在那里等待出卖；它们相互用头角顶撞着，哞哞地叫着；有时它们迟钝的头遭到大头棒的敲打，那是可以把头打破的；在这梦幻中，有桥梁、十字架、教堂、驿站；新的马正很不愿意地开始从事艰苦的劳役；最后一个驿站的马身上冒着热气，嘴里喘着气，正低垂着头，忧郁地站在马厩门边；在这梦幻中，有小小的墓地，坟墓上的黑十字架东倒西歪，坟上枯萎的花圈愈来愈少了；然后在这梦幻中又是漫长的、漫长的道路，伸延到山上和山下，一直伸向变化莫测的地平线。
在这梦幻中有早晨、中午和日落；有夜晚和新月的升起。在这梦幻中，漫长的道路暂时被抛在后面，马车走上了一条凹凸不平的铺石的道路，马蹄敲打着它的路面，马从上面跑过去；他抬头仰望，看到一座巍峨的教堂钟楼耸立在一些房屋的屋顶之上；他从马车中出来，匆匆忙忙吃点东西，喝几口酒，它却不能使他快活起来；他从一群乞丐中间徒步走过去——眼皮颤动的瞎子由老太婆领着走，她们举着蜡烛照着他们的脸；他看到白痴的女孩子、跛子、癫痫病人、瘫痪病人——；在这梦幻中，他从嘈杂吵闹的中间经过，并从座位上望出去；他看到仰望着他的脸孔和伸过来的胳膊，突然害怕认出一个追赶他的什么人从他们当中挤出来；然后在这梦幻中，又是在漫长的道路上飞快地奔驰；他迟钝、麻木地在马车角落里蜷缩着身体，或者站起身来，看一看月光正微弱地照耀着那条同样无穷无尽、伸向许多许多英里以外的道路中的一段，或者往后看看，有谁跟随而来。
在这梦幻中，他从来没有睡去，而只是有时眼睛没有合上，打个盹儿，然后突然间惊跳起来，大声地回答着一个想象中的声音。在这梦幻中，他咒骂自己到这里来，咒骂自己逃走，咒骂自己让她走掉了，咒骂自己没有跟他见面，向他挑战。在这梦幻中，他不共戴天地埋怨整个世界，但主要是埋怨他自己。在这梦幻中，当他被马车向前拉去的时候，他灰心丧气的情绪使周围的一切事物都显得黯然失色。
这是个狂热的梦幻，过去的事物与当前的事物乱七八糟地混合在一起，他往日的生活与现在的逃亡搀合为一体。在这个梦幻中，他正疯狂地急忙赶往他应该前去的一个什么地方。在这个梦幻中，旧时的情景突然跳进一路上穿行过的新鲜风光中。在这个梦幻中，当他沉思默想着过去和遥远的事情的时候，他似乎没有注意到他见到的现实的景物，而是厌倦不堪地感觉到，它们把他弄得糊里糊涂；在它们消失之后，它们的形象仍拥挤在他发热的头脑中。
这是个梦幻，在这个梦幻中，发生着一个接一个的变化，但却仍然是那单调的铃铛声，车轮声和马蹄声；他得不到休息。城镇和乡村，马，马车夫，丘陵和河谷，光明和黑暗，大路和铺石路，高地和山谷，雨天和晴天，但却仍然是那单调的铃铛声，车轮声，马蹄声，他得不到休息。这是个梦幻，在这个梦幻中，马车终于沿着行人较多的道路，往遥远的首都跑去；它从古老的大教堂旁边飞跑过去；从道路上的小城镇和村子中间急穿过去，现在这些小城镇不像先前那么稀疏；当路过的行人看着他的时候，他隐蔽地坐在角落里，斗篷盖到脸上。
在这个梦幻中，马车继续向前奔跑，他总是把一些思想暂时搁置起来，往后推到将来去考虑，并总是因为不断地思索而苦恼；他不能计算他在路上跑了多少个钟头，或了解旅程中的时间与地点。在这个梦幻中，他口干舌燥，眼花缭乱，近乎疯狂，可是不管怎样，他却还是依旧奋力向前行进，仿佛他不能停下来似的，然后他进入了巴黎；在那里，在生命与运动这两股哗哗的激流中间，混浊的河流泰然自若地转动着它的湍急的水流。
然后，是一个混乱的梦幻，在这个梦幻中，有桥梁、码头、没有尽头的街道；有酒店、运水的工人、熙熙攘攘的人群、士兵、轿式马车、军鼓、拱廊。在这个梦幻中，单调的铃铛声、车轮声和马蹄声最终消失在四周一片喧嚣声与鼎沸的人声之中了。他经过一个关口的时候，换乘了一辆马车，在这之后，这种闹音渐渐地平静下来。当他前往海岸的时候，单调的铃铛声、车轮声和马蹄声又恢复了，他得不到休息。
然后在这个梦幻中，又是日落和黄昏。在这个梦幻中，又是漫长的道路，沉寂的深夜，路旁窗户中微弱的灯光；然后依旧是单调的铃铛声、车轮声和马蹄声，他得不到休息。在这个梦幻中，有拂晓、黎明、日出。在这个梦幻中，马车费劲地慢慢地上了一个山冈，在山冈顶上他感觉到新鲜的海风微微吹拂；他看见晨光在远方海浪的边际闪闪反射着。下了山冈，是一个海港，正好是涨潮的时候，可以看见渔船顺潮返航，快活的女人和孩子正在等待着它们。渔网和渔人们的衣服摊晒在海岸上；船员们忙忙碌碌，在桅杆和索具当中高高的地方也能听到他们的。活泼、明亮的海水，到处在闪闪发光。
在这个梦幻中，船离开了海岸，从甲板上往回看，水面上烟雾朦胧。阳光穿过的地方，这里那里露出了一点明亮的陆地。在这个梦幻中，平静的海涨起了波浪，闪耀着水花，发出了喃喃的低语。在船舶经过的航线上，海洋上出现了另一条灰色的线条，迅速地变得更明亮和更高。在这个梦幻中，他看到了一座座悬崖、一间间房屋、一个风车、一座教堂，愈来愈分明。船终于进入了一个平静的水面，停泊在一个码头旁边；码头上一群群的人在往下看，并向船上的朋友们问候致意。他上了岸，迅速地从他们中间穿过，躲开每一个人，终于又到了英国了。
他在梦幻中曾经想到一个他所知道的遥远的乡村中去，在那里隐居下来，然后悄悄地打听流传的消息，再决定怎样行动。仍然是在同样头晕目眩的状态中，他曾记起一个火车站，他必须从那里沿一条铁路支线前往他的目的地；在火车站附近还有一个僻静的小旅馆，他不十分明确地打算到那里去停留和休息。
他怀着这个目的，尽快地偷偷溜进了一个火车车厢，用斗篷裹着在那里躺下，仿佛睡着了似的。火车很快就把他拉到离海远远的绿色的内地了。到达目的地之后，他从车厢窗子里往外看，仔细地观察着车站外面。他对这个地方的印象没有错。这是在一个小树林边上的一个隐蔽的地方。那里只有一间房屋，是特地为车站新建或改建起来的，房屋四周有一个整洁的花园；离这里最近的小城镇是在几英里之外。于是他在这里下了车，没有被任何人注意到，就直接到了那个小旅馆里，在那里要了楼上两个位置相当隐蔽、并且是相通的房间。
他的目的是休息，恢复自制力和稳定情绪。遭受失败之后茫然失措的情绪和愤怒的情绪完全支配着他，因此，他在房间里走来走去的时候，咬牙切齿。他不能制止或指引他的思想，他的思想依旧随意转来转去，并拖着他跑。他精神恍惚，疲乏得要死。
可是，仿佛他遭到了不幸，永远也不能再休息了，他感到昏昏欲睡，但并没有失去知觉。他对他的感觉丝毫没有办法，仿佛它们是属于另一个人似的。它们不仅强迫他注意现在的与事物，而且还不让他从旅途中所有匆匆忙忙的梦幻中解脱出来。这些梦幻不断地涌集在他的面前。她站在那里，用她乌黑的、轻蔑的眼光注视着他；他仍然坐在马车里，通过城镇与乡村，通过亮光与黑暗，通过雨天与晴天，通过道路与铺石路，通过丘陵与河谷，往前行进，单调的铃铛声、车轮声和马蹄声使他疲倦、恐慌，得不到休息。
“今天是星期几？”他问正在准备给他开晚饭的侍者。
“您是问星期几吗，先生？”
“是星期三吗？”
“星期三，先生？不，先生，星期四了，先生。”
“我忘了。现在什么时间？我的表没有上弦。”
“差几分就五点了，先生。您也许旅行了好久了吧，先生？”
“是的。”
“乘火车来的吗，先生？”
“是的。”
“很疲劳的，先生。我自己乘火车不多，先生，但是到这里的先生们常常这么说。”
“有很多先生到这里来吗？”
“总的来说是相当多的。可是现在没有人来。现在生意清淡，先生。现在不论什么行业都生意清淡。”
他没有回答；而只是从他原先躺着的沙发上欠起身来坐着，每只胳膊都支靠在一只脚的膝盖上，并凝视着地面。他不能把注意力继续集中一分钟。它随意地转来转去，但片刻也不能消失在睡眠中。
他吃完晚饭以后，喝了好多酒，但也无济于事。这种人为的方法不能使他合眼睡去。他的思想比先前更不连贯，更无情地把他拖来拖去，仿佛一位苦命的人被判定要这样来赎罪，被发狂的马拖着跑一样。没有忘却，没有休息。
他坐在那里，喝着，沉思着，被胡思乱想拖来拖去，究竟有多久，谁也不能比他回答得更不准确。但是当他突然跳了起来，并细听着的时候，他知道他已经在烛光旁边坐了好久。
因为现在，这确实不是幻想。地面震动了，房屋发出了格格的响声，那猛烈的、迅疾的、像死神一样的飞行就在空中！他觉得它临近了，又疾驰而过；甚至当他急忙跑到窗前，并看见那是什么的时候，他又往回退缩，站着不动，仿佛去看是不安全似的。
真该咒骂一声，这火一般的魔鬼！它发出了轰隆轰隆的响声，十分平稳地向前驶去，穿过了遥远的河谷，留下了耀眼的亮光与火红的烟尘，然后消失不见了！他觉得仿佛他已被拉出它行进的道路，幸免被它撕得粉碎似的。甚至现在，当最轻微的声响都已完全沉寂，他在月光中所能望见的整条铁路线已像沙漠一般安静无人的时候，这种感觉还使得他畏缩和打颤。
他不能休息，并不可抗拒地被吸引到这条路上（也许是他觉得这样），于是就走出屋子，在这条路的旁边漫步，同时根据落在轨道上、仍然在冒烟的煤屑来察看火车跑过的道路。他沿着火车消失不见的方向漫步了半个钟头光景之后，转过身来，朝着相反的方向走——依旧紧挨着铁路的旁边——，经过小旅馆的花园，又继续走了长长的一段路；他一边走一边好奇地看着桥梁、信号灯、路灯，心里想，什么时候另一个魔鬼会从这里跑过去呢？
地面在震动；他的耳朵中感觉到迅速的颤动；远方传来了尖锐的响声；暗淡的灯光正在向前移来，很快转变为两只红红的眼睛；强烈的火焰掉落着灼热的煤屑；不可阻挡的巨大的吼叫声愈来愈响；一阵劲风吹刮过来了，一阵轰隆轰隆的响声传过来了——另一列火车来了，又走了；他抓住门，仿佛要救住自己似的！
他等待着另一列火车，然后又等待着另一列火车。他沿着铁路又走回到原先的地点。然后走回来以后又回到那里，并且通过他这次路途中令人疲倦的梦幻，依旧在等待着这些前来的怪物。他在车站上闲逛，等待着有一列火车会在这里停下来；有一列火车果真在这里停下来了，机车和后面的车厢脱钩以后开去上水，这时候他面对着它站在那里，注视着它的笨重的轮子和铜制的头部，心想它具有多么残酷的能量与威力哪！看看这些巨大的轮子慢慢地转动，想想你被它们压到身上，压得粉碎的情景吧！
由于喝了酒以后引起的身心失调和缺乏休息——虽然他疲乏不堪，但却无法满足这种需要——，这些念头和这些事物在他的思想中病态地占据了很大的分量。当他回到自己房间里的时候——这已将近午夜了——，它们依旧反复出现在他的心头，他就坐在那里听着是不是又有一列火车开来。
当他在床上躺下，没有希望入睡的时候，也还是这种情况。他仍旧躺着听；当他感觉到摇晃和震动的时候，他从床上起来，走到窗口，观看（他从那里是看得到的）那暗淡的灯光转变成两只红红的眼睛，强烈的火焰掉落着灼热的煤屑；巨大的怪物飞快地奔驰过去，长长的一道烟雾弥漫在山谷上空。因为他在这里得不到休息，他打算在日出以后离开这里，于是他就朝着他前去的方向观望；然后他又重新躺下来，让他在旅途中的梦幻，让那些单调的铃铛声、车轮声和马蹄声来困扰他，直到另一列火车开来为止。这种情况持续了整整一夜。他不但不能恢复自制力，相反的，随着夜间时光的流逝，他愈来愈失去了它（如果还可能失去的话）。当黎明来临时，他仍然被各种胡思乱想所折磨，仍然把他的思想暂时搁置起来，直到他的情况好转以后再说；过去、现在和将来，全都混乱地浮现在他眼前，他完全失去了沉着对待它们当中任何一个的能力。
“您刚才说，我要搭乘的火车什么时候从这里开出？”他问昨夜侍候他的那个人，他这时候拿了一支蜡烛走进房间。
“四点一刻光景，先生。快车四点经过这里，先生。——
它在这里不停。”
他把手举到血管在跳动着的头前，看一看表。将近三点半。
“也许没有人跟您一道走吧，先生，”那位侍者说道，“这里有两位先生，先生，但是他们是在等去伦敦的火车。”
“我记得您好像说过，这里没有别的人，”卡克转向他，说道；脸上露出过去他在发怒或怀疑的时候经常露出的那种鬼怪般的笑容。
“我昨天跟您说的时候，这里是没有别的人，先生。这两位先生是在夜里搭乘慢车来的，这里是它的一个停车站，先生。要温水吗，先生？”
“不要。把蜡烛拿走。我觉得天已够亮了。”
他原先穿了一部分衣服倒在床上，那人刚一走开，他就走到窗口。夜色消逝，寒冷的晨光接着来临，天空中早已弥漫着即将升起的太阳的红光。他用冷水洗了洗头和脸——这并不能使他冷静下来——，匆匆忙忙穿上衣服，付了帐，然后走出旅馆。
向他吹来的空气冷飕飕的，使人感到很不舒服。露水很重。他虽然身上热乎乎的，但还是禁不住打哆嗦。他朝昨夜走过的地方和在早晨发出微光、已经失去重要性的信号灯看了一眼之后，转向太阳正在升起的地方。他看到了它露出地平线时那光辉壮丽的景象。它那美丽是多么威风凛凛，多么卓越非凡，它是多么神圣、庄严啊！他那淡弱无光的眼睛看着它平静地、安详地升起，对从世界创始以来在它的光线照耀下所曾发生过的所有的罪行与邪恶都无动于衷，这时候，谁能说甚至在他心中就没有激发出在世上行善积德，在天堂中得到报答的淡薄观念呢？如果他曾在什么时候怀着亲切和悔恨的心情回忆起他的姐姐或哥哥的话，那么谁能说那不就在现在呢？
他现在需要这样的心情。死神已迫近他。他已经从活着的世界中除名，正在走近坟墓。
他已支付了通往他打算前往的乡村的车费；现在正独自在走来走去，同时沿着铁路线看过去；从这一边看过去是河谷，从另一边看过去是近处的一座黑暗的桥梁；他走到来回踱步的木制站台的一边的尽头，正转回身子来的时候，突然看见了他从他那里逃出来的那个人，正从他本人曾经进去过的门中走出来。他们的眼光相遇了。
在突然的惊慌失措中，他步子不稳，身子摇摇晃晃，滑倒在下面的铁路上。但他立刻站了起来，在铁路上往后退了一、两步，使他们两人之间的距离扩大一些，同时呼吸短促地望着追赶他的人。
他听到一声呼喊，——又听到一声呼喊，——看到那张原先充满复仇的愤怒的脸孔，现在转变为有些病态与恐怖的表情，——他感到地面在震动，——在一刹那间明白了：火车正疾驰而来——他发出一声尖锐的喊叫——环顾四周——
看到那两只在白天显得模糊与暗淡的红眼睛就在他的面前——他被撞倒，钩住，卷到一个凹凸不平的磨上，这磨一圈一圈碾着他，把他的四肢撕断，用火一般的高热舐吃着他的生命，并把他支离破碎的肢体在天空中抛掷着。
当那位被他认出的旅客晕倒并苏醒过来的时候，他看到四个人从远处用一块板抬来一个什么东西，沉重与安静地躺在板上，上面被覆盖着；他还看到另外一些人把在铁路上嗅来嗅去的几条狗赶开，并撒了好些灰烬，把他的血给覆盖上。
Chapter 56
Several People delighted, and the Game Chicken disgusted
The Midshipman was all alive. Mr Toots and Susan had arrived at last. Susan had run upstairs like a young woman bereft of her senses, and Mr Toots and the Chicken had gone into the Parlour.
'Oh my own pretty darling sweet Miss Floy!' cried the Nipper, running into Florence's room, 'to think that it should come to this and I should find you here my own dear dove with nobody to wait upon you and no home to call your own but never never will I go away again Miss Floy for though I may not gather moss I'm not a rolling stone nor is my heart a stone or else it wouldn't bust as it is busting now oh dear oh dear!'
Pouring out these words, without the faintest indication of a stop, of any sort, Miss Nipper, on her knees beside her mistress, hugged her close.
'Oh love!' cried Susan, 'I know all that's past I know it all my tender pet and I'm a choking give me air!'
'Susan, dear good Susan!' said Florence. 'Oh bless her! I that was her little maid when she was a little child! and is she really, really truly going to be married?'exclaimed Susan, in a burst of pain and pleasure, pride and grief, and Heaven knows how many other conflicting feelings.
'Who told you so?' said Florence.
'Oh gracious me! that innocentest creetur Toots,' returned Susan hysterically. 'I knew he must be right my dear, because he took on so. He's the devotedest and innocentest infant! And is my darling,' pursued Susan, with another close embrace and burst of tears, 'really really going to be married!'
The mixture of compassion, pleasure, tenderness, protection, and regret with which the Nipper constantly recurred to this subject, and at every such once, raised her head to look in the young face and kiss it, and then laid her head again upon her mistress's shoulder, caressing her and sobbing, was as womanly and good a thing, in its way, as ever was seen in the world.
'There, there!' said the soothing voice of Florence presently. 'Now you're quite yourself, dear Susan!'
Miss Nipper, sitting down upon the floor, at her mistress's feet, laughing and sobbing, holding her pocket-handkerchief to her eyes with one hand, and patting Diogenes with the other as he licked her face, confessed to being more composed, and laughed and cried a little more in proof of it.
'I-I-I never did see such a creetur as that Toots,' said Susan, 'in all my born days never!'
'So kind,' suggested Florence.
'And so comic!' Susan sobbed. 'The way he's been going on inside with me with that disrespectable Chicken on the box!'
'About what, Susan?' inquired Florence, timidly.
'Oh about Lieutenant Walters, and Captain Gills, and you my dear Miss Floy, and the silent tomb,' said Susan.
'The silent tomb!' repeated Florence.
'He says,' here Susan burst into a violent hysterical laugh, 'that he'll go down into it now immediately and quite comfortable, but bless your heart my dear Miss Floy he won't, he's a great deal too happy in seeing other people happy for that, he may not be a Solomon,' pursued the Nipper, with her usual volubility, 'nor do I say he is but this I do say a less selfish human creature human nature never knew!' Miss Nipper being still hysterical, laughed immoderately after making this energetic declaration, and then informed Florence that he was waiting below to see her; which would be a rich repayment for the trouble he had had in his late expedition.
Florence entreated Susan to beg of Mr Toots as a favour that she might have the pleasure of thanking him for his kindness; and Susan, in a few moments, produced that young gentleman, still very much dishevelled in appearance, and stammering exceedingly.
'Miss Dombey,' said Mr Toots. 'To be again permitted to - to - gaze - at least, not to gaze, but - I don't exactly know what I was going to say, but it's of no consequence.
'I have to thank you so often,' returned Florence, giving him both her hands, with all her innocent gratitude beaming in her face, 'that I have no words left, and don't know how to do it.'
'Miss Dombey,' said Mr Toots, in an awful voice, 'if it was possible that you could, consistently with your angelic nature, Curse me, you would - if I may be allowed to say so - floor me infinitely less, than by these undeserved expressions of kindness Their effect upon me - is - but,' said Mr Toots, abruptly, 'this is a digression, and of no consequence at all.'
As there seemed to be no means of replying to this, but by thanking him again, Florence thanked him again.
'I could wish,' said Mr Toots, 'to take this opportunity, Miss Dombey, if I might, of entering into a word of explanation. I should have had the pleasure of - of returning with Susan at an earlier period; but, in the first place, we didn't know the name of the relation to whose house she had gone, and, in the second, as she had left that relation's and gone to another at a distance, I think that scarcely anything short of the sagacity of the Chicken, would have found her out in the time.'
Florence was sure of it.
'This, however,' said Mr Toots, 'is not the point. The company of Susan has been, I assure you, Miss Dombey, a consolation and satisfaction to me, in my state of mind, more easily conceived than described. The journey has been its own reward. That, however, still, is not the point. Miss Dombey, I have before observed that I know I am not what is considered a quick person. I am perfectly aware of that. I don't think anybody could be better acquainted with his own - if it was not too strong an expression, I should say with the thickness of his own head - than myself. But, Miss Dombey, I do, notwithstanding, perceive the state of - of things - with Lieutenant Walters. Whatever agony that state of things may have caused me (which is of no consequence at all), I am bound to say, that Lieutenant Walters is a person who appears to be worthy of the blessing that has fallen on his - on his brow. May he wear it long, and appreciate it, as a very different, and very unworthy individual, that it is of no consequence to name, would have done! That, however, still, is not the point. Miss Dombey, Captain Gills is a friend of mine; and during the interval that is now elapsing, I believe it would afford Captain Gills pleasure to see me occasionally coming backwards and forwards here. It would afford me pleasure so to come. But I cannot forget that I once committed myself, fatally, at the corner of the Square at Brighton; and if my presence will be, in the least degree, unpleasant to you, I only ask you to name it to me now, and assure you that I shall perfectly understand you. I shall not consider it at all unkind, and shall only be too delighted and happy to be honoured with your confidence.'
'Mr Toots,' returned Florence, 'if you, who are so old and true a friend of mine, were to stay away from this house now, you would make me very unhappy. It can never, never, give me any feeling but pleasure to see you.
'Miss Dombey,' said Mr Toots, taking out his pocket-handkerchief, 'if I shed a tear, it is a tear of joy. It is of no consequence, and I am very much obliged to you. I may be allowed to remark, after what you have so kindly said, that it is not my intention to neglect my person any longer.'
Florence received this intimation with the prettiest expression of perplexity possible.
'I mean,' said Mr Toots, 'that I shall consider it my duty as a fellow-creature generally, until I am claimed by the silent tomb, to make the best of myself, and to - to have my boots as brightly polished, as - as -circumstances will admit of. This is the last time, Miss Dombey, of my intruding any observation of a private and personal nature. I thank you very much indeed. if I am not, in a general way, as sensible as my friends could wish me to be, or as I could wish myself, I really am, upon my word and honour, particularly sensible of what is considerate and kind. I feel,' said Mr Toots, in an impassioned tone, 'as if I could express my feelings, at the present moment, in a most remarkable manner, if - if - I could only get a start.'
Appearing not to get it, after waiting a minute or two to see if it would come, Mr Toots took a hasty leave, and went below to seek the Captain, whom he found in the shop.
'Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, 'what is now to take place between us, takes place under the sacred seal of confidence. It is the sequel, Captain Gills, of what has taken place between myself and Miss Dombey, upstairs.'
'Alow and aloft, eh, my lad?' murmured the Captain.
'Exactly so, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, whose fervour of acquiescence was greatly heightened by his entire ignorance of the Captain's meaning. 'Miss Dombey, I believe, Captain Gills, is to be shortly united to Lieutenant Walters?'
'Why, ay, my lad. We're all shipmets here, - Wal'r and sweet- heart will be jined together in the house of bondage, as soon as the askings is over,' whispered Captain Cuttle, in his ear.
'The askings, Captain Gills!' repeated Mr Toots.
'In the church, down yonder,' said the Captain, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.
'Oh! Yes!' returned Mr Toots.
'And then,' said the Captain, in his hoarse whisper, and tapping Mr Toots on the chest with the back of his hand, and falling from him with a look of infinite admiration, 'what follers? That there pretty creetur, as delicately brought up as a foreign bird, goes away upon the roaring main with Wal'r on a woyage to China!'
'Lord, Captain Gills!' said Mr Toots.
'Ay!' nodded the Captain. 'The ship as took him up, when he was wrecked in the hurricane that had drove her clean out of her course, was a China trader, and Wal'r made the woyage, and got into favour, aboard and ashore - being as smart and good a lad as ever stepped - and so, the supercargo dying at Canton, he got made (having acted as clerk afore), and now he's supercargo aboard another ship, same owners. And so, you see,' repeated the Captain, thoughtfully, 'the pretty creetur goes away upon the roaring main with Wal'r, on a woyage to China.'
Mr Toots and Captain Cuttle heaved a sigh in concert. 'What then?' said the Captain. 'She loves him true. He loves her true. Them as should have loved and tended of her, treated of her like the beasts as perish. When she, cast out of home, come here to me, and dropped upon them planks, her wownded heart was broke. I know it. I, Ed'ard Cuttle, see it. There's nowt but true, kind, steady love, as can ever piece it up again. If so be I didn't know that, and didn't know as Wal'r was her true love, brother, and she his, I'd have these here blue arms and legs chopped off, afore I'd let her go. But I know it, and what then! Why, then, I say, Heaven go with 'em both, and so it will! Amen!'
'Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, 'let me have the pleasure of shaking hands You've a way of saying things, that gives me an agreeable warmth, all up my back. I say Amen. You are aware, Captain Gills, that I, too, have adored Miss Dombey.'
'Cheer up!' said the Captain, laying his hand on Mr Toots's shoulder. 'Stand by, boy!'
'It is my intention, Captain Gills,' returned the spirited Mr Toots, 'to cheer up. Also to standby, as much as possible. When the silent tomb shall yawn, Captain Gills, I shall be ready for burial; not before. But not being certain, just at present, of my power over myself, what I wish to say to you, and what I shall take it as a particular favour if you will mention to Lieutenant Walters, is as follows.'
'Is as follers,' echoed the Captain. 'Steady!'
'Miss Dombey being so inexpressably kind,' continued Mr Toots with watery eyes, 'as to say that my presence is the reverse of disagreeable to her, and you and everybody here being no less forbearing and tolerant towards one who - who certainly,' said Mr Toots, with momentary dejection, 'would appear to have been born by mistake, I shall come backwards and forwards of an evening, during the short time we can all be together. But what I ask is this. If, at any moment, I find that I cannot endure the contemplation of Lieutenant Walters's bliss, and should rush out, I hope, Captain Gills, that you and he will both consider it as my misfortune and not my fault, or the want of inward conflict. That you'll feel convinced I bear no malice to any living creature-least of all to Lieutenant Walters himself - and that you'll casually remark that I have gone out for a walk, or probably to see what o'clock it is by the Royal Exchange. Captain Gills, if you could enter into this arrangement, and could answer for Lieutenant Walters, it would be a relief to my feelings that I should think cheap at the sacrifice of a considerable portion of my property.'
'My lad,' returned the Captain, 'say no more. There ain't a colour you can run up, as won't be made out, and answered to, by Wal'r and self.'
'Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots, 'my mind is greatly relieved. I wish to preserve the good opinion of all here. I - I - mean well, upon my honour, however badly I may show it. You know,' said Mr Toots, 'it's as exactly as Burgess and Co. wished to oblige a customer with a most extraordinary pair of trousers, and could not cut out what they had in their minds.'
With this apposite illustration, of which he seemed a little Proud, Mr Toots gave Captain Cuttle his blessing and departed.
The honest Captain, with his Heart's Delight in the house, and Susan tending her, was a beaming and a happy man. As the days flew by, he grew more beaming and more happy, every day. After some conferences with Susan (for whose wisdom the Captain had a profound respect, and whose valiant precipitation of herself on Mrs MacStinger he could never forget), he proposed to Florence that the daughter of the elderly lady who usually sat under the blue umbrella in Leadenhall Market, should, for prudential reasons and considerations of privacy, be superseded in the temporary discharge of the household duties, by someone who was not unknown to them, and in whom they could safely confide. Susan, being present, then named, in furtherance of a suggestion she had previously offered to the Captain, Mrs Richards. Florence brightened at the name. And Susan, setting off that very afternoon to the Toodle domicile, to sound Mrs Richards, returned in triumph the same evening, accompanied by the identical rosy-cheeked apple-faced Polly, whose demonstrations, when brought into Florence's presence, were hardly less affectionate than those of Susan Nipper herself.
This piece of generalship accomplished; from which the Captain derived uncommon satisfaction, as he did, indeed, from everything else that was done, whatever it happened to be; Florence had next to prepare Susan for their approaching separation. This was a much more difficult task, as Miss Nipper was of a resolute disposition, and had fully made up her mind that she had come back never to be parted from her old mistress any more.
'As to wages dear Miss Floy,' she said, 'you wouldn't hint and wrong me so as think of naming them, for I've put money by and wouldn't sell my love and duty at a time like this even if the Savings' Banks and me were total strangers or the Banks were broke to pieces, but you've never been without me darling from the time your poor dear Ma was took away, and though I'm nothing to be boasted of you're used to me and oh my own dear mistress through so many years don't think of going anywhere without me, for it mustn't and can't be!'
'Dear Susan, I am going on a long, long voyage.'
'Well Miss Floy, and what of that? the more you'll want me. Lengths of voyages ain't an object in my eyes, thank God!' said the impetuous Susan Nipper.
'But, Susan, I am going with Walter, and I would go with Walter anywhere - everywhere! Walter is poor, and I am very poor, and I must learn, now, both to help myself, and help him.'
'Dear Miss Floy!' cried Susan, bursting out afresh, and shaking her head violently, 'it's nothing new to you to help yourself and others too and be the patientest and truest of noble hearts, but let me talk to Mr Walter Gay and settle it with him, for suffer you to go away across the world alone I cannot, and I won't.'
'Alone, Susan?' returned Florence. 'Alone? and Walter taking me with him!' Ah, what a bright, amazed, enraptured smile was on her face! - He should have seen it. 'I am sure you will not speak to Walter if I ask you not,' she added tenderly; 'and pray don't, dear.'
Susan sobbed 'Why not, Miss Floy?'
'Because,' said Florence, 'I am going to be his wife, to give him up my whole heart, and to live with him and die with him. He might think, if you said to him what you have said to me, that I am afraid of what is before me, or that you have some cause to be afraid for me. Why, Susan, dear, I love him!'
Miss Nipper was so much affected by the quiet fervour of these words, and the simple, heartfelt, all-pervading earnestness expressed in them, and making the speaker's face more beautiful and pure than ever, that she could only cling to her again, crying. Was her little mistress really, really going to be married, and pitying, caressing, and protecting her, as she had done before. But the Nipper, though susceptible of womanly weaknesses, was almost as capable of putting constraint upon herself as of attacking the redoubtable MacStinger. From that time, she never returned to the subject, but was always cheerful, active, bustling, and hopeful. She did, indeed, inform Mr Toots privately, that she was only 'keeping up' for the time, and that when it was all over, and Miss Dombey was gone, she might be expected to become a spectacle distressful; and Mr Toots did also express that it was his case too, and that they would mingle their tears together; but she never otherwise indulged her private feelings in the presence of Florence or within the precincts of the Midshipman.
Limited and plain as Florence's wardrobe was - what a contrast to that prepared for the last marriage in which she had taken part! - there was a good deal to do in getting it ready, and Susan Nipper worked away at her side, all day, with the concentrated zeal of fifty sempstresses. The wonderful contributions Captain Cuttle would have made to this branch of the outfit, if he had been permitted - as pink parasols, tinted silk stockings, blue shoes, and other articles no less necessary on shipboard - would occupy some space in the recital. He was induced, however, by various fraudulent representations, to limit his contributions to a work-box and dressing case, of each of which he purchased the very largest specimen that could be got for money. For ten days or a fortnight afterwards, he generally sat, during the greater part of the day, gazing at these boxes; divided between extreme admiration of them, and dejected misgivings that they were not gorgeous enough, and frequently diving out into the street to purchase some wild article that he deemed necessary to their completeness. But his master-stroke was, the bearing of them both off, suddenly, one morning, and getting the two words FLORENCE GAY engraved upon a brass heart inlaid over the lid of each. After this, he smoked four pipes successively in the little parlour by himself, and was discovered chuckling, at the expiration of as many hours.
Walter was busy and away all day, but came there every morning early to see Florence, and always passed the evening with her. Florence never left her high rooms but to steal downstairs to wait for him when it was his time to come, or, sheltered by his proud, encircling arm, to bear him company to the door again, and sometimes peep into the street. In the twilight they were always together. Oh blessed time! Oh wandering heart at rest! Oh deep, exhaustless, mighty well of love, in which so much was sunk!
The cruel mark was on her bosom yet. It rose against her father with the breath she drew, it lay between her and her lover when he pressed her to his heart. But she forgot it. In the beating of that heart for her, and in the beating of her own for him, all harsher music was unheard, all stern unloving hearts forgotten. Fragile and delicate she was, but with a might of love within her that could, and did, create a world to fly to, and to rest in, out of his one image.
How often did the great house, and the old days, come before her in the twilight time, when she was sheltered by the arm, so proud, so fond, and, creeping closer to him, shrunk within it at the recollection! How often, from remembering the night when she went down to that room and met the never-to-be forgotten look, did she raise her eyes to those that watched her with such loving earnestness, and weep with happiness in such a refuge! The more she clung to it, the more the dear dead child was in her thoughts: but as if the last time she had seen her father, had been when he was sleeping and she kissed his face, she always left him so, and never, in her fancy, passed that hour.
'Walter, dear,' said Florence, one evening, when it was almost dark.'Do you know what I have been thinking to-day?'
'Thinking how the time is flying on, and how soon we shall be upon the sea, sweet Florence?'
'I don't mean that, Walter, though I think of that too. I have been thinking what a charge I am to you.
'A precious, sacred charge, dear heart! Why, I think that sometimes.'
'You are laughing, Walter. I know that's much more in your thoughts than mine. But I mean a cost.
'A cost, my own?'
'In money, dear. All these preparations that Susan and I are so busy with - I have been able to purchase very little for myself. You were poor before. But how much poorer I shall make you, Walter!'
'And how much richer, Florence!'
Florence laughed, and shook her head.
'Besides,' said Walter, 'long ago - before I went to sea - I had a little purse presented to me, dearest, which had money in it.'
'Ah!' returned Florence, laughing sorrowfully, 'very little! very little, Walter! But, you must not think,' and here she laid her light hand on his shoulder, and looked into his face, 'that I regret to be this burden on you. No, dear love, I am glad of it. I am happy in it. I wouldn't have it otherwise for all the world!'
'Nor I, indeed, dear Florence.'
'Ay! but, Walter, you can never feel it as I do. I am so proud of you! It makes my heart swell with such delight to know that those who speak of you must say you married a poor disowned girl, who had taken shelter here; who had no other home, no other friends; who had nothing - nothing! Oh, Walter, if I could have brought you millions, I never could have been so happy for your sake, as I am!'
'And you, dear Florence? are you nothing?' he returned.
'No, nothing, Walter. Nothing but your wife.' The light hand stole about his neck, and the voice came nearer - nearer. 'I am nothing any more, that is not you. I have no earthly hope any more, that is not you. I have nothing dear to me any more, that is not you.
Oh! well might Mr Toots leave the little company that evening, and twice go out to correct his watch by the Royal Exchange, and once to keep an appointment with a banker which he suddenly remembered, and once to take a little turn to Aldgate Pump and back!
But before he went upon these expeditions, or indeed before he came, and before lights were brought, Walter said:
'Florence, love, the lading of our ship is nearly finished, and probably on the very day of our marriage she will drop down the river. Shall we go away that morning, and stay in Kent until we go on board at Gravesend within a week?'
'If you please, Walter. I shall be happy anywhere. But - '
'Yes, my life?'
'You know,' said Florence, 'that we shall have no marriage party, and that nobody will distinguish us by our dress from other people. As we leave the same day, will you - will you take me somewhere that morning, Walter - early - before we go to church?'
Walter seemed to understand her, as so true a lover so truly loved should, and confirmed his ready promise with a kiss - with more than one perhaps, or two or threes or five or six; and in the grave, peaceful evening, Florence was very happy.
Then into the quiet room came Susan Nipper and the candles; shortly afterwards, the tea, the Captain, and the excursive Mr Toots, who, as above mentioned, was frequently on the move afterwards, and passed but a restless evening. This, however, was not his habit: for he generally got on very well, by dint of playing at cribbage with the Captain under the advice and guidance of Miss Nipper, and distracting his mind with the calculations incidental to the game; which he found to be a very effectual means of utterly confounding himself.
The Captain's visage on these occasions presented one of the finest examples of combination and succession of expression ever observed. His instinctive delicacy and his chivalrous feeling towards Florence, taught him that it was not a time for any boisterous jollity, or violent display of satisfaction; floating reminiscences of Lovely Peg, on the other hand, were constantly struggling for a vent, and urging the Captain to commit himself by some irreparable demonstration. Anon, his admiration of Florence and Walter - well-matched, truly, and full of grace and interest in their youth, and love, and good looks, as they sat apart - would take such complete possession of hIm, that he would lay down his cards, and beam upon them, dabbing his head all over with his pockethandkerchief; until warned, perhaps, by the sudden rushing forth of Mr Toots, that he had unconsciously been very instrumental, indeed, in making that gentleman miserable. This reflection would make the Captain profoundly melancholy, until the return of Mr Toots; when he would fall to his cards again, with many side winks and nods, and polite waves of his hook at Miss Nipper, importing that he wasn't going to do so any more. The state that ensued on this, was, perhaps, his best; for then, endeavouring to discharge all expression from his face, he would sit staring round the room, with all these expressions conveyed into it at once, and each wrestling with the other. Delighted admiration of Florence and Walter always overthrew the rest, and remained victorious and undisguised, unless Mr Toots made another rush into the air, and then the Captain would sit, like a remorseful culprit, until he came back again, occasionally calling upon himself, in a low reproachful voice, to 'Stand by!' or growling some remonstrance to 'Ed'ard Cuttle, my lad,' on the want of caution observabl in his behaviour.
One of Mr Toots's hardest trials, however, was of his own seeking. On the approach of the Sunday which was to witness the last of those askings in church of which the Captain had spoken, Mr Toots thus stated his feelings to Susan Nipper.
'Susan,' said Mr Toots, 'I am drawn towards the building. The words which cut me off from Miss Dombey for ever, will strike upon my ears like a knell you know, but upon my word and honour, I feel that I must hear them. Therefore,' said Mr Toots, 'will you accompany me to-morrow, to the sacred edifice?'
Miss Nipper expressed her readiness to do so, if that would be any satisfaction to Mr Toots, but besought him to abandon his idea of going.
'Susan,' returned Mr Toots, with much solemnity, 'before my whiskers began to be observed by anybody but myself, I adored Miss Dombey. While yet a victim to the thraldom of Blimber, I adored Miss Dombey. When I could no longer be kept out of my property, in a legal point of view, and - and accordingly came into it - I adored Miss Dombey. The banns which consign her to Lieutenant Walters, and me to - to Gloom, you know,' said Mr Toots, after hesitating for a strong expression, 'may be dreadful, will be dreadful; but I feel that I should wish to hear them spoken. I feel that I should wish to know that the ground wascertainly cut from under me, and that I hadn't a hope to cherish, or a - or a leg, in short, to - to go upon.'
Susan Nipper could only commiserate Mr Toots's unfortunate condition, and agree, under these circumstances, to accompany him; which she did next morning.
The church Walter had chosen for the purpose, was a mouldy old church in a yard, hemmed in by a labyrinth of back streets and courts, with a little burying-ground round it, and itself buried in a kind of vault, formed by the neighbouring houses, and paved with echoing stones It was a great dim, shabby pile, with high old oaken pews, among which about a score of people lost themselves every Sunday; while the clergyman's voice drowsily resounded through the emptiness, and the organ rumbled and rolled as if the church had got the colic, for want of a congregation to keep the wind and damp out. But so far was this city church from languishing for the company of other churches, that spires were clustered round it, as the masts of shipping cluster on the river. It would have been hard to count them from its steeple-top, they were so many. In almost every yard and blind-place near, there was a church. The confusion of bells when Susan and Mr Toots betook themselves towards it on the Sunday morning, was deafening. There were twenty churches close together, clamouring for people to come in.
The two stray sheep in question were penned by a beadle in a commodious pew, and, being early, sat for some time counting the congregation, listening to the disappointed bell high up in the tower, or looking at a shabby little old man in the porch behind the screen, who was ringing the same, like the Bull in Cock Robin,' with his foot in a stirrup. Mr Toots, after a lengthened survey of the large books on the reading-desk, whispered Miss Nipper that he wondered where the banns were kept, but that young lady merely shook her head and frowned; repelling for the time all approaches of a temporal nature.
Mr Toots, however, appearing unable to keep his thoughts from the banns, was evidently looking out for them during the whole preliminary portion of the service. As the time for reading them approached, the poor young gentleman manifested great anxiety and trepidation, which was not diminished by the unexpected apparition of the Captain in the front row of the gallery. When the clerk handed up a list to the clergyman, Mr Toots, being then seated, held on by the seat of the pew; but when the names of Walter Gay and Florence Dombey were read aloud as being in the third and last stage of that association, he was so entirley conquered by his feelings as to rush from the church without his hat, followed by the beadle and pew-opener, and two gentlemen of the medical profeesion, who happened to be present; of whom the first-named presently returned for that article, informing Miss Nipper in a whisper that she was not to make herself uneasy about the gentleman, as the gentleman said his indisposition was of no consequence.
Miss Nipper, feeling that the eyes of that integral portion of Europe which lost itself weekly among the high-backed pews, were upon her, would have been sufficient embarrassed by this incident, though it had terminated here; the more so, as the Captain in the front row of the gallery, was in a state of unmitigated consciousness which could hardly fail to express to the congregation that he had some mysterious connection with it. But the extreme restlessness of Mr Toots painfully increased and protracted the delicacy of her situation. That young gentleman, incapable, in his state of mind, of remaining alone in the churchyard, a prey to solitary meditation, and also desirous, no doubt, of testifying his respect for the offices he had in some measure interrupted, suddenly returned - not coming back to the pew, but stationing himself on a free seat in the aisle, between two elderly females who were in the habit of receiving their portion of a weekly dole of bread then set forth on a shelf in the porch. In this conjunction Mr Toots remained, greatly disturbing the congregation, who felt it impossible to avoid looking at him, until his feelings overcame him again, when he departed silently and suddenly. Not venturing to trust himself in the church any more, and yet wishing to have some social participation in what was going on there, Mr Toots was, after this, seen from time to time, looking in, with a lorn aspect, at one or other of the windows; and as there were several windows accessible to him from without, and as his restlessness was very great, it not only became difficult to conceive at which window he would appear next, but likewise became necessary, as it were, for the whole congregation to speculate upon the chances of the different windows, during the comparative leisure afforded them by the sermon. Mr Toots's movements in the churchyard were so eccentric, that he seemed generally to defeat all calculation, and to appear, like the conjuror's figure, where he was least expected; and the effect of these mysterious presentations was much increased by its being difficult to him to see in, and easy to everybody else to see out: which occasioned his remaining, every time, longer than might have been expected, with his face close to the glass, until he all at once became aware that all eyes were upon him, and vanished.
These proceedings on the part of Mr Toots, and the strong individual consciousness of them that was exhibited by the Captain, rendered Miss Nipper's position so responsible a one, that she was mightily relieved by the conclusion of the service; and was hardly so affable to Mr Toots as usual, when he informed her and the Captain, on the way back, that now he was sure he had no hope, you know, he felt more comfortable - at least not exactly more comfortable, but more comfortably and completely miserable.
Swiftly now, indeed, the time flew by until it was the evening before the day appointed for the marriage. They were all assembled in the upper room at the Midshipman's, and had no fear of interruption; for there were no lodgers in the house now, and the Midshipman had it all to himself. They were grave and quiet in the prospect of to-morrow, but moderately cheerful too. Florence, with Walter close beside her, was finishing a little piece of work intended as a parting gift to the Captain. The Captain was playing cribbage with Mr Toots. Mr Toots was taking counsel as to his hand, of Susan Nipper. Miss Nipper was giving it, with all due secrecy and circumspection. Diogenes was listening, and occasionally breaking out into a gruff half-smothered fragment of a bark, of which he afterwards seemed half-ashamed, as if he doubted having any reason for it.
'Steady, steady!' said the Captain to Diogenes, 'what's amiss with you? You don't seem easy in your mind to-night, my boy!'
Diogenes wagged his tail, but pricked up his ears immediately afterwards, and gave utterance to another fragment of a bark; for which he apologised to the Captain, by again wagging his tail.
'It's my opinion, Di,' said the Captain, looking thoughtfully at his cards, and stroking his chin with his hook, 'as you have your doubts of Mrs Richards; but if you're the animal I take you to be, you'll think better o' that; for her looks is her commission. Now, Brother:' to Mr Toots: 'if so be as you're ready, heave ahead.'
The Captain spoke with all composure and attention to the game, but suddenly his cards dropped out of his hand, his mouth and eyes opened wide, his legs drew themselves up and stuck out in front of his chair, and he sat staring at the door with blank amazement. Looking round upon the company, and seeing that none of them observed him or the cause of his astonishment, the Captain recovered himself with a great gasp, struck the table a tremendous blow, cried in a stentorian roar, 'Sol Gills ahoy!' and tumbled into the arms of a weather-beaten pea-coat that had come with Polly into the room.
In another moment, Walter was in the arms of the weather-beaten pea-coat. In another moment, Florence was in the arms of the weather-beaten pea-coat. In another moment, Captain Cuttle had embraced Mrs Richards and Miss Nipper, and was violently shaking hands with Mr Toots, exclaiming, as he waved his hook above his head, 'Hooroar, my lad, hooroar!' To which Mr Toots, wholly at a loss to account for these proceedings, replied with great politeness, 'Certainly, Captain Gills, whatever you think proper!'
The weather-beaten pea-coat, and a no less weather-beaten cap and comforter belonging to it, turned from the Captain and from Florence back to Walter, and sounds came from the weather-beaten pea-coat, cap, and comforter, as of an old man sobbing underneath them; while the shaggy sleeves clasped Walter tight. During this pause, there was an universal silence, and the Captain polished his nose with great diligence. But when the pea-coat, cap, and comforter lifted themselves up again, Florence gently moved towards them; and she and Walter taking them off, disclosed the old Instrument-maker, a little thinner and more careworn than of old, in his old Welsh wig and his old coffee-coloured coat and basket buttons, with his old infallible chronometer ticking away in his pocket.
'Chock full o' science,' said the radiant Captain, 'as ever he was! Sol Gills, Sol Gills, what have you been up to, for this many a long day, my ould boy?'
'I'm half blind, Ned,' said the old man, 'and almost deaf and dumb with joy.'
'His wery woice,' said the Captain, looking round with an exultation to which even his face could hardly render justice - 'his wery woice as chock full o' science as ever it was! Sol Gills, lay to, my lad, upon your own wines and fig-trees like a taut ould patriark as you are, and overhaul them there adwentures o' yourn, in your own formilior woice. 'Tis the woice,' said the Captain, impressively, and announcing a quotation with his hook, 'of the sluggard, I heerd him complain, you have woke me too soon, I must slumber again. Scatter his ene-mies, and make 'em fall!'
The Captain sat down with the air of a man who had happily expressed the feeling of everybody present, and immediately rose again to present Mr Toots, who was much disconcerted by the arrival of anybody, appearing to prefer a claim to the name of Gills.
'Although,' stammered Mr Toots, 'I had not the pleasure of your acquaintance, Sir, before you were - you were - '
'Lost to sight, to memory dear,' suggested the Captain, in a low voice.
Exactly so, Captain Gills!' assented Mr Toots. 'Although I had not the pleasure of your acquaintance, Mr - Mr Sols,' said Toots, hitting on that name in the inspiration of a bright idea, 'before that happened, I have the greatest pleasure, I assure you, in - you know, in knowing you. I hope,' said Mr Toots, 'that you're as well as can be expected.'
With these courteous words, Mr Toots sat down blushing and chuckling.
The old Instrument-maker, seated in a corner between Walter and Florence, and nodding at Polly, who was looking on, all smiles and delight, answered the Captain thus:
'Ned Cuttle, my dear boy, although I have heard something of the changes of events here, from my pleasant friend there - what a pleasant face she has to be sure, to welcome a wanderer home!' said the old man, breaking off, and rubbing his hands in his old dreamy way.
'Hear him!' cried the Captain gravely. ''Tis woman as seduces all mankind. For which,' aside to Mr Toots, 'you'll overhaul your Adam and Eve, brother.'
'I shall make a point of doing so, Captain Gills,' said Mr Toots.
'Although I have heard something of the changes of events, from her,' resumed the Instrument-maker, taking his old spectacles from his pocket, and putting them on his forehead in his old manner, 'they are so great and unexpected, and I am so overpowered by the sight of my dear boy, and by the,' - glancing at the downcast eyes of Florence, and not attempting to finish the sentence - 'that I - I can't say much to-night. But my dear Ned Cuttle, why didn't you write?'
The astonishment depicted in the Captain's features positively frightened Mr Toots, whose eyes were quite fixed by it, so that he could not withdraw them from his face.
'Write!' echoed the Captain. 'Write, Sol Gills?'
'Ay,' said the old man, 'either to Barbados, or Jamaica, or Demerara, That was what I asked.'
'What you asked, Sol Gills?' repeated the Captain.
'Ay,' said the old man. 'Don't you know, Ned? Sure you have not forgotten? Every time I wrote to you.'
The Captain took off his glazed hat, hung it on his hook, and smoothing his hair from behind with his hand, sat gazing at the group around him: a perfect image of wondering resignation.
'You don't appear to understand me, Ned!' observed old Sol.
'Sol Gills,' returned the Captain, after staring at him and the rest for a long time, without speaking, 'I'm gone about and adrift. Pay out a word or two respecting them adwenturs, will you! Can't I bring up, nohows? Nohows?' said the Captain, ruminating, and staring all round.
'You know, Ned,' said Sol Gills, 'why I left here. Did you open my packet, Ned?'
'Why, ay, ay,' said the Captain. 'To be sure, I opened the packet.'
'And read it?' said the old man.
'And read it,' answered the Captain, eyeing him attentively, and proceeding to quote it from memory. '"My dear Ned Cuttle, when I left home for the West Indies in forlorn search of intelligence of my dear-" There he sits! There's Wal'r!' said the Captain, as if he were relieved by getting hold of anything that was real and indisputable.
'Well, Ned. Now attend a moment!' said the old man. 'When I wrote first - that was from Barbados - I said that though you would receive that letter long before the year was out, I should be glad if you would open the packet, as it explained the reason of my going away. Very good, Ned. When I wrote the second, third, and perhaps the fourth times - that was from Jamaica - I said I was in just the same state, couldn't rest, and couldn't come away from that part of the world, without knowing that my boy was lost or saved. When I wrote next - that, I think, was from Demerara, wasn't it?'
'That he thinks was from Demerara, warn't it!' said the Captain, looking hopelessly round.
'I said,' proceeded old Sol, 'that still there was no certain information got yet. That I found many captains and others, in that part of the world, who had known me for years, and who assisted me with a passage here and there, and for whom I was able, now and then, to do a little in return, in my own craft. That everyone was sorry for me, and seemed to take a sort of interest in my wanderings; and that I began to think it would be my fate to cruise about in search of tidings of my boy, until I died.'
'Began to think as how he was a scientific Flying Dutchman!' said the Captain, as before, and with great seriousness.
'But when the news come one day, Ned, - that was to Barbados, after I got back there, - that a China trader home'ard bound had been spoke, that had my boy aboard, then, Ned, I took passage in the next ship and came home; arrived at home to-night to find it true, thank God!' said the old man, devoutly.
The Captain, after bowing his head with great reverence, stared all round the circle, beginning with Mr Toots, and ending with the Instrument-maker; then gravely said:
'Sol Gills! The observation as I'm a-going to make is calc'lated to blow every stitch of sail as you can carry, clean out of the bolt-ropes, and bring you on your beam ends with a lurch. Not one of them letters was ever delivered to Ed'ard Cuttle. Not one o' them letters,' repeated the Captain, to make his declaration the more solemn and impressive, 'was ever delivered unto Ed'ard Cuttle, Mariner, of England, as lives at home at ease, and doth improve each shining hour!'
'And posted by my own hand! And directed by my own hand, Number nine Brig Place!' exclaimed old Sol.
The colour all went out of the Captain's face and all came back again in a glow.
'What do you mean, Sol Gills, my friend, by Number nine Brig Place?' inquired the Captain.
'Mean? Your lodgings, Ned,' returned the old man. 'Mrs What's-her-name! I shall forget my own name next, but I am behind the present time - I always was, you recollect - and very much confused. Mrs - '
'Sol Gills!' said the Captain, as if he were putting the most improbable case in the world, 'it ain't the name of MacStinger as you're a trying to remember?'
'Of course it is!' exclaimed the Instrument-maker. 'To be sure Ned. Mrs MacStinger!'
Captain Cuttle, whose eyes were now as wide open as they would be, and the knobs upon whose face were perfectly luminous, gave a long shrill whistle of a most melancholy sound, and stood gazing at everybody in a state of speechlessness.
'Overhaul that there again, Sol Gills, will you be so kind?' he said at last.
'All these letters,' returned Uncle Sol, beating time with the forefinger of his right hand upon the palm of his left, with a steadiness and distinctness that might have done honour, even to the infallible chronometer in his pocket, 'I posted with my own hand, and directed with my own hand, to Captain Cuttle, at Mrs MacStinger's, Number nine Brig Place.'
The Captain took his glazed hat off his hook, looked into it, put it on, and sat down.
'Why, friends all,' said the Captain, staring round in the last state of discomfiture, 'I cut and run from there!'
'And no one knew where you were gone, Captain Cuttle?' cried Walter hastily.
'Bless your heart, Wal'r,' said the Captain, shaking his head, 'she'd never have allowed o' my coming to take charge o' this here property. Nothing could be done but cut and run. Lord love you, Wal'r!' said the Captain, 'you've only seen her in a calm! But see her when her angry passions rise - and make a note on!'
'I'd give it her!' remarked the Nipper, softly.
'Would you, do you think, my dear?' returned the Captain, with feeble admiration. 'Well, my dear, it does you credit. But there ain't no wild animal I wouldn't sooner face myself. I only got my chest away by means of a friend as nobody's a match for. It was no good sending any letter there. She wouldn't take in any letter, bless you,' said the Captain, 'under them circumstances! Why, you could hardly make it worth a man's while to be the postman!'
'Then it's pretty clear, Captain Cuttle, that all of us, and you and Uncle Sol especially,' said Walter, 'may thank Mrs MacStinger for no small anxiety.'
The general obligation in this wise to the determined relict of the late Mr MacStinger, was so apparent, that the Captain did not contest the point; but being in some measure ashamed of his position, though nobody dwelt upon the subject, and Walter especially avoided it, remembering the last conversation he and the Captain had held together respecting it, he remained under a cloud for nearly five minutes - an extraordinary period for him when that sun, his face, broke out once more, shining on all beholders with extraordinary brilliancy; and he fell into a fit of shaking hands with everybody over and over again.
At an early hour, but not before Uncle Sol and Walter had questioned each other at some length about their voyages and dangers, they all, except Walter, vacated Florence's room, and went down to the parlour. Here they were soon afterwards joined by Walter, who told them Florence was a little sorrowful and heavy-hearted, and had gone to bed. Though they could not have disturbed her with their voices down there, they all spoke in a whisper after this: and each, in his different way, felt very lovingly and gently towards Walter's fair young bride: and a long explanation there was of everything relating to her, for the satisfaction of Uncle Sol; and very sensible Mr Toots was of the delicacy with which Walter made his name and services important, and his presence necessary to their little council.
'Mr Toots,' said Walter, on parting with him at the house door, 'we shall see each other to-morrow morning?'
'Lieutenant Walters,' returned Mr Toots, grasping his hand fervently, 'I shall certainly be present.
'This is the last night we shall meet for a long time - the last night we may ever meet,' said Walter. 'Such a noble heart as yours, must feel, I think, when another heart is bound to it. I hope you know that I am very grateful to you?'
'Walters,' replied Mr Toots, quite touched, 'I should be glad to feel that you had reason to be so.'
'Florence,' said Walter, 'on this last night of her bearing her own name, has made me promise - it was only just now, when you left us together - that I would tell you - with her dear love - '
Mr Toots laid his hand upon the doorpost, and his eyes upon his hand.
- with her dear love,' said Walter, 'that she can never have a friend whom she will value above you. That the recollection of your true consideration for her always, can never be forgotten by her. That she remembers you in her prayers to-night, and hopes that you will think of her when she is far away. Shall I say anything for you?'
'Say, Walter,' replied Mr Toots indistinctly, 'that I shall think of her every day, but never without feeling happy to know that she is married to the man she loves, and who loves her. Say, if you please, that I am sure her husband deserves her - even her!- and that I am glad of her choice.'
Mr Toots got more distinct as he came to these last words, and raising his eyes from the doorpost, said them stoutly. He then shook Walter's hand again with a fervour that Walter was not slow to return and started homeward.
Mr Toots was accompanied by the Chicken, whom he had of late brought with him every evening, and left in the shop, with an idea that unforeseen circumstances might arise from without, in which the prowess of that distinguished character would be of service to the Midshipman. The Chicken did not appear to be in a particularly good humour on this occasion. Either the gas-lamps were treacherous, or he cocked his eye in a hideous manner, and likewise distorted his nose, when Mr Toots, crossing the road, looked back over his shoulder at the room where Florence slept. On the road home, he was more demonstrative of aggressive intentions against the other foot-passengers, than comported with a professor of the peaceful art of self-defence. Arrived at home, instead of leaving Mr Toots in his apartments when he had escorted him thither, he remained before him weighing his white hat in both hands by the brim, and twitching his head and nose (both of which had been many times broken, and but indifferently repaired), with an air of decided disrespect.
His patron being much engaged with his own thoughts, did not observe this for some time, nor indeed until the Chicken, determined not to be overlooked, had made divers clicking sounds with his tongue and teeth, to attract attention.
'Now, Master,' said the Chicken, doggedly, when he, at length, caught Mr Toots's eye, 'I want to know whether this here gammon is to finish it, or whether you're a going in to win?'
'Chicken,' returned Mr Toots, 'explain yourself.'
'Why then, here's all about it, Master,' said the Chicken. 'I ain't a cove to chuck a word away. Here's wot it is. Are any on 'em to be doubled up?'
When the Chicken put this question he dropped his hat, made a dodge and a feint with his left hand, hit a supposed enemy a violent blow with his right, shook his head smartly, and recovered himself'
'Come, Master,' said the Chicken. 'Is it to be gammon or pluck? Which?'
Chicken,' returned Mr Toots, 'your expressions are coarse, and your meaning is obscure.'
'Why, then, I tell you what, Master,' said the Chicken. 'This is where it is. It's mean.'
'What is mean, Chicken?' asked Mr Toots.
'It is,' said the Chicken, with a frightful corrugation of his broken nose. 'There! Now, Master! Wot! When you could go and blow on this here match to the stiff'un;' by which depreciatory appellation it has been since supposed that the Game One intended to signify Mr Dombey; 'and when you could knock the winner and all the kit of 'em dead out o' wind and time, are you going to give in? To give in? 'said the Chicken, with contemptuous emphasis. 'Wy, it's mean!'
'Chicken,' said Mr Toots, severely, 'you're a perfect Vulture! Your sentiments are atrocious.'
'My sentiments is Game and Fancy, Master,' returned the Chicken. 'That's wot my sentiments is. I can't abear a meanness. I'm afore the public, I'm to be heerd on at the bar of the Little Helephant, and no Gov'ner o' mine mustn't go and do what's mean. Wy, it's mean,' said the Chicken, with increased expression. 'That's where it is. It's mean.'
'Chicken,' said Mr Toots, 'you disgust me.'
'Master,' returned the Chicken, putting on his hat, 'there's a pair on us, then. Come! Here's a offer! You've spoke to me more than once't or twice't about the public line. Never mind! Give me a fi'typunnote to-morrow, and let me go.'
'Chicken,' returned Mr Toots, 'after the odious sentiments you have expressed, I shall be glad to part on such terms.'
'Done then,' said the Chicken. 'It's a bargain. This here conduct of yourn won't suit my book, Master. Wy, it's mean,' said the Chicken; who seemed equally unable to get beyond that point, and to stop short of it. 'That's where it is; it's mean!'
So Mr Toots and the Chicken agreed to part on this incompatibility of moral perception; and Mr Toots lying down to sleep, dreamed happily of Florence, who had thought of him as her friend upon the last night of her maiden life, and who had sent him her dear love.
海军军官候补生精神抖擞。图茨先生和苏珊终于来了。苏珊像一个发疯的姑娘一样跑到楼上，图茨先生和斗鸡则走进客厅。
“啊，我亲爱的心肝宝贝可爱的弗洛伊小姐！”尼珀跑进弗洛伊的房间，喊道，“想不到事情会到了这个地步，我竟会在这里找到您呀我亲爱的小鸽子，您在这里没有人侍候您也没有一个您可以称为自己的家，不过我永远永远也不会再离开您了，弗洛伊小姐，因为我虽然不会长苔藓，但我不是一块滚动的石头，①我的心也不是一块石头要不然它就不会像现在这样在爆裂了，啊亲爱的啊亲爱的！”
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①滚动的石头不长苔藓（Arollingstonegathersnomoss），是英国谚语。滚动的石头一般比喻喜欢改换职业、住址等的人。
尼珀姑娘滔滔不绝地倾吐出这些话语，并跪在她的女主人的前面，紧紧地拥抱着她。
“我亲爱的！”苏珊喊道，“过去发生的事情我全知道了，我一切都知道了，我心爱的宝贝，我喘不过气来了，给我空气吧！”
“苏珊，亲爱的好苏珊！”弗洛伦斯说道。
“啊上帝保佑她！她还是个小孩子的时候我就是她的小侍女！难道她确确实实当真要结婚了吗？”苏珊高声喊道，她又是痛苦又是高兴，又是自豪又是悲伤，天知道还夹杂着多少其他相互冲突的感情。
“谁跟您这么说的？”弗洛伦斯说道。
“啊我的天哪！就是那个最傻里傻气的人图茨，”苏珊歇斯底里地回答道，“我知道他准没错，我亲爱的，因为他很伤心。他是个最忠实最傻里傻气的小娃娃！难道我心爱的人儿确确实实要结婚了吗？”苏珊继续说道，一边泪流满脸地又紧紧拥抱着她。
尼珀不断地提到这个问题，每当提到这个问题的时候，她都要抬起头来注视这张年轻的脸孔并吻它，然后又把头低垂在女主人肩膀上，爱抚着她，并哭泣着；她提到这个问题时所流露出来的、混杂着同情、喜悦、亲切与爱护的感情是世界上真正女性的高尚的感情。
“好了，好了！”弗洛伦斯不久用安慰的声调说道，“啊现在您镇静下来了，亲爱的苏珊！”
尼珀姑娘坐在女主人脚边的地板上，又是大笑又是哭泣，一只手用手绢抹着眼泪，另一只手轻轻地拍着正舔她的脸孔的戴奥吉尼斯；她承认她现在镇静一些了，为了证明这一点，她又大笑了一会儿，哭泣了一会儿。
“我——我——我从来没有见过像图茨这样的人，”苏珊说道，“从我生下来起从来没有见过！”
“他是那么善良，”弗洛伦斯提示道。
“而且是那么滑稽可笑！”苏珊抽抽嗒嗒地哭泣着说道，“他跟我坐在马车里跟我谈话，那位不值得尊敬的斗鸡则坐在车夫座位上，那时候瞧他那说话的神态和腔调！”
“他谈了些什么呢；苏珊？”弗洛伦斯胆怯地问道。
“他谈到沃尔特斯上尉，谈到吉尔斯船长，还谈到您我亲爱的弗洛伊小姐，还有那沉默的坟墓，”苏珊说道。
“沉默的坟墓！”弗洛伦斯重复地说道。
“他说，”这时苏珊歇斯底里地大笑了一阵子，“他将立刻很轻松自在地走进沉默的坟墓，可是您放心他不会的，我亲爱的弗洛伊小姐，他说那句话是表示他看到别人幸福真是太快乐了，他也许并不是所罗门，”尼珀姑娘又像往常那样滔滔不绝地继续说道，“我也没有说他就是所罗门，但是我敢说世界上从来没有见到过像他那样不自私的人！”
尼珀姑娘作了这个有力的声明之后，仍然处于歇斯底里的状态，毫无节制地大笑着，然后才告诉弗洛伦斯，他在楼下等着见她，这将是对他最近不辞辛苦、长途奔波的极为丰厚的酬答。
弗洛伦斯请苏珊去邀请图茨先生上楼来，她将高兴地对他的好意帮助表示感谢。几分钟之后，苏珊就把那位年轻人带进房间，他头发还是乱蓬蓬的，说起话来结巴得厉害。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生说道，“又承蒙您允许我——注视——至少，不是注视，不过——我不知道我要说什么，不过这是无关紧要的。”
“我是这么经常地感谢您，我都已经把话讲完了，因此我不知道现在该讲些什么好。”弗洛伦斯向他伸出双手，脸上露出真挚的谢意。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生用可怕的说道，“如果您能够咒骂我几句（这并不改变您那天使般的性格），那么我反倒好受些；现在您讲了这样亲切的话，可真把我难住了（如果您允许我这样说的话）。这些话对我的影响——是——不过，”图茨先生突然中断话头，说道，“我离题了，这完全是无关紧要的。”
弗洛伦斯由于除了再次谢谢他之外，似乎没办法回答他的话，所以就再一次谢谢他。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生说道，“如果可能的话，我希望趁这个机会解释一、两句。我本可以和苏珊早一些回来的，可是第一，我们不知道她投奔的亲戚的姓名，第二，因为她已离开了她那位亲戚的家，到另一位住在远处的亲戚那里去了，所以我想，如果不是斗鸡聪明的话，那么我们到现在也还不见得就能找到她呢。”
弗洛伦斯相信这一点。
“不过，这并不是重要的一点，”图茨先生说道，“我可以向您肯定地说，董贝小姐，就我当时的心情来说（它是容易想象而难以描述的），跟苏珊在一起对我是一种安慰与满足。这次旅行本身就是一种报酬。可是那仍然不是重要的一点。董贝小姐，我曾经跟您说过，我明白，我并不是个人们可以称做头脑灵敏的人。我完全知道这一点。我自己比任何人都清楚，我是个多么——如果不算说得太过分的话，那么我就要说，我是个脑子很愚钝的人。可是尽管这样，董贝小姐，我还是看出沃尔特斯上尉的情况是怎么回事。不论这种情况会使我产生多少痛苦（这是完全无关紧要的），可是我一定得说，沃尔特斯上尉看来是个值得享受降临在他的——他的身上的幸福的人。祝愿他长久地享受它，并珍惜它，就像一个很不相同、很不足取、指出他的姓名完全是无关紧要的人会珍惜它的一样！不过，这仍然不是重要的一点。董贝小姐，吉尔斯船长是我的朋友，我觉得如果在这段时间里我不时来回到这里来看看，吉尔斯船长是会感到高兴的。到这里来看看也会使我感到高兴。不过我不能忘记，我有一次在布赖顿广场角落里犯了一个极严重的错误；如果我到这里来会使您有一点点不乐意的话，那么我只请求您现在就向我指出来；我可以向您保证，我将完全理解您。我决不会认为这是冷酷无情，而只会由于荣幸地得到您的信任而感到快乐和幸福。”
“图茨先生，”弗洛伦斯回答道，“您是我的一位很真诚的老朋友；如果您现在不再到这里来看我们的话，那么您将会使我感到很不快乐。我看到您只会感到高兴，而决不会产生任何其他的感情。”“董贝小姐，”图茨先生掏出手绢来，说道，“如果我掉眼泪的话，那么这是欢乐的眼泪；这是无关紧要的；我深深地感谢您。在您讲了这些亲切的话以后，请允许我说一句，我不打算再轻视我自己了。”
弗洛伦斯听到这个暗示，露出了茫然不解的可爱的表情。
“我的意思是说，”图茨先生说道，“我将认为，在我没有被沉默的坟墓召唤去之前，作为人类的一员，我有责任尽量让我的外表好看一些；如果——如果情况允许的话，那么我将——把我的靴子擦得亮亮的。董贝小姐，这是我最后一次冒昧地向您讲到有关个人方面的事。我确实非常感谢您。如果我不是像我的朋友们或我自己所希望的那样明白事理的话，那么，说实话，我以我的荣誉发誓，我对别人的体贴与好意是特别能领会的。如果——如果——我知道怎样开始的话，图茨先生用充满热情的语气说道，“我觉得仿佛我现在能以最美好的方式来表达我的感情似的。”
图茨先生等了一、两分钟，看看他是否能想出怎样开始；看来他还是想不出来，就匆匆告辞了。他走下楼去找船长，在店铺里找到了他。
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，“我现在跟您谈的事情必须保证严守秘密，吉尔斯船长；这是我跟董贝小姐在楼上谈话的结果。”
“在船内和在桅杆高处是吗，我的孩子？”船长低声问道。
“正是这样，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，他由于完全不明白船长讲话的意思，就以极大的热情表示同意。“吉尔斯船长，我相信董贝小姐很快就要跟沃尔特斯上尉结婚了吧？”
“是的，是的，我的孩子。我们这里全都是船友。沃尔跟他亲爱的情人在结婚预告①结束之后，就立即在缔结婚姻的房屋里结为夫妇了，”卡特尔船长凑着他的耳朵低声说道。
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①在信奉基督教的国家，人们在结婚之前，在教堂中须宣读结婚预告，询问是否有人提出异议；在不同时间，共宣读三次预告。
“结婚预告，吉尔斯船长！”图茨先生重复说道。
“在那边教堂里，”船长用大姆指指指肩膀后面，说道。
“啊，是的！”图茨先生回答道。
“然后怎样呢？”船长用手背拍拍图茨先生的胸膛，往后退了一步，露出钦佩的神情看着他，并用嘶哑的低声说道，“然
Chapter 57
Another Wedding
Mr Sownds the beadle, and Mrs Miff the pew-opener, are early at their posts in the fine church where Mr Dombey was married. A yellow-faced old gentleman from India, is going to take unto himself a young wife this morning, and six carriages full of company are expected, and Mrs Miff has been informed that the yellow-faced old gentleman could pave the road to church with diamonds and hardly miss them. The nuptial benediction is to be a superior one, proceeding from a very reverend, a dean, and the lady is to be given away, as an extraordinary present, by somebody who comes express from the Horse Guards
Mrs Miff is more intolerant of common people this morning, than she generally is; and she his always strong opinions on that subject, for it is associated with free sittings. Mrs Miff is not a student of political economy (she thinks the science is connected with dissenters; 'Baptists or Wesleyans, or some o' them,' she says), but she can never understand what business your common folks have to be married. 'Drat 'em,' says Mrs Miff 'you read the same things over 'em' and instead of sovereigns get sixpences!'
Mr Sownds the beadle is more liberal than Mrs Miff - but then he is not a pew-opener. 'It must be done, Ma'am,' he says. 'We must marry 'em. We must have our national schools to walk at the head of, and we must have our standing armies. We must marry 'em, Ma'am,' says Mr Sownds, 'and keep the country going.'
Mr Sownds is sitting on the steps and Mrs Miff is dusting in the church, when a young couple, plainly dressed, come in. The mortified bonnet of Mrs Miff is sharply turned towards them, for she espies in this early visit indications of a runaway match. But they don't want to be married - 'Only,' says the gentleman, 'to walk round the church.' And as he slips a genteel compliment into the palm of Mrs Miff, her vinegary face relaxes, and her mortified bonnet and her spare dry figure dip and crackle.
Mrs Miff resumes her dusting and plumps up her cushions - for the yellow-faced old gentleman is reported to have tender knees - but keeps her glazed, pew-opening eye on the young couple who are walking round the church. 'Ahem,' coughs Mrs Miff whose cough is drier than the hay in any hassock in her charge, 'you'll come to us one of these mornings, my dears, unless I'm much mistaken!'
They are looking at a tablet on the wall, erected to the memory of someone dead. They are a long way off from Mrs Miff, but Mrs Miff can see with half an eye how she is leaning on his arm, and how his head is bent down over her. 'Well, well,' says Mrs Miff, 'you might do worse. For you're a tidy pair!'
There is nothing personal in Mrs Miff's remark. She merely speaks of stock-in-trade. She is hardly more curious in couples than in coffins. She is such a spare, straight, dry old lady - such a pew of a woman - that you should find as many individual sympathies in a chip. Mr Sownds, now, who is fleshy, and has scarlet in his coat, is of a different temperament. He says, as they stand upon the steps watching the young couple away, that she has a pretty figure, hasn't she, and as well as he could see (for she held her head down coming out), an uncommon pretty face. 'Altogether, Mrs Miff,' says Mr Sownds with a relish, 'she is what you may call a rose-bud.'
Mrs Miff assents with a spare nod of her mortified bonnet; but approves of this so little, that she inwardly resolves she wouldn't be the wife of Mr Sownds for any money he could give her, Beadle as he is.
And what are the young couple saying as they leave the church, and go out at the gate?
'Dear Walter, thank you! I can go away, now, happy.'
'And when we come back, Florence, we will come and see his grave again.'
Florence lifts her eyes, so bright with tears, to his kind face; and clasps her disengaged hand on that other modest little hand which clasps his arm.
'It is very early, Walter, and the streets are almost empty yet. Let us walk.'
'But you will be so tired, my love.'
'Oh no! I was very tired the first time that we ever walked together, but I shall not be so to-day.' And thus - not much changed - she, as innocent and earnest-hearted - he, as frank, as hopeful, and more proud of her - Florence and Walter, on their bridal morning, walk through the streets together.
Not even in that childish walk of long ago, were they so far removed from all the world about them as to-day. The childish feet of long ago, did not tread such enchanted ground as theirs do now. The confidence and love of children may be given many times, and will spring up in many places; but the woman's heart of Florence, with its undivided treasure, can be yielded only once, and under slight or change, can only droop and die.
They take the streets that are the quietest, and do not go near that in which her old home stands. It is a fair, warm summer morning, and the sun shines on them, as they walk towards the darkening mist that overspreads the City. Riches are uncovering in shops; jewels, gold, and silver flash in the goldsmith's sunny windows; and great houses cast a stately shade upon them as they pass. But through the light, and through the shade, they go on lovingly together, lost to everything around; thinking of no other riches, and no prouder home, than they have now in one another.
Gradually they come into the darker, narrower streets, where the sun, now yellow, and now red, is seen through the mist, only at street corners, and in small open spaces where there is a tree, or one of the innumerable churches, or a paved way and a flight of steps, or a curious little patch of garden, or a burying-ground, where the few tombs and tombstones are almost black. Lovingly and trustfully, through all the narrow yards and alleys and the shady streets, Florence goes, clinging to his arm, to be his wife.
Her heart beats quicker now, for Walter tells her that their church is very near. They pass a few great stacks of warehouses, with waggons at the doors, and busy carmen stopping up the way - but Florence does not see or hear them - and then the air is quiet, and the day is darkened, and she is trembling in a church which has a strange smell like a cellar.
The shabby little old man, ringer of the disappointed bell, is standing in the porch, and has put his hat in the font - for he is quite at home there, being sexton. He ushers them into an old brown, panelled, dusty vestry, like a corner-cupboard with the shelves taken out; where the wormy registers diffuse a smell like faded snuff, which has set the tearful Nipper sneezing.
Youthful, and how beautiful, the young bride looks, in this old dusty place, with no kindred object near her but her husband. There is a dusty old clerk, who keeps a sort of evaporated news shop underneath an archway opposite, behind a perfect fortification of posts. There is a dusty old pew-opener who only keeps herself, and finds that quite enough to do. There is a dusty old beadle (these are Mr Toots's beadle and pew-opener of last Sunday), who has something to do with a Worshipful Company who have got a Hall in the next yard, with a stained-glass window in it that no mortal ever saw. There are dusty wooden ledges and cornices poked in and out over the altar, and over the screen and round the gallery, and over the inscription about what the Master and Wardens of the Worshipful Company did in one thousand six hundred and ninety-four. There are dusty old sounding-boards over the pulpit and reading-desk, looking like lids to be let down on the officiating ministers in case of their giving offence. There is every possible provision for the accommodation of dust, except in the churchyard, where the facilities in that respect are very limited. The Captain, Uncle Sol, and Mr Toots are come; the clergyman is putting on his surplice in the vestry, while the clerk walks round him, blowing the dust off it; and the bride and bridegroom stand before the altar. There is no bridesmaid, unless Susan Nipper is one; and no better father than Captain Cuttle. A man with a wooden leg, chewing a faint apple and carrying a blue bag in has hand, looks in to see what is going on; but finding it nothing entertaining, stumps off again, and pegs his way among the echoes out of doors.
No gracious ray of light is seen to fall on Florence, kneeling at the altar with her timid head bowed down. The morning luminary is built out, and don't shine there. There is a meagre tree outside, where the sparrows are chirping a little; and there is a blackbird in an eyelet-hole of sun in a dyer's garret, over against the window, who whistles loudly whilst the service is performing; and there is the man with the wooden leg stumping away. The amens of the dusty clerk appear, like Macbeth's, to stick in his throat a little'; but Captain Cuttle helps him out, and does it with so much goodwill that he interpolates three entirely new responses of that word, never introduced into the service before.
They are married, and have signed their names in one of the old sneezy registers, and the clergyman's surplice is restored to the dust, and the clergymam is gone home. In a dark corner of the dark church, Florence has turned to Susan Nipper, and is weeping in her arms. Mr Toots's eyes are red. The Captain lubricates his nose. Uncle Sol has pulled down his spectacles from his forehead, and walked out to the door.
'God bless you, Susan; dearest Susan! If you ever can bear witness to the love I have for Walter, and the reason that I have to love him, do it for his sake. Good-bye! Good-bye!'
They have thought it better not to go back to the Midshipman, but to part so; a coach is waiting for them, near at hand.
Miss Nipper cannot speak; she only sobs and chokes, and hugs her mistress. Mr Toots advances, urges her to cheer up, and takes charge of her. Florence gives him her hand - gives him, in the fulness of her heart, her lips - kisses Uncle Sol, and Captain Cuttle, and is borne away by her young husband.
But Susan cannot bear that Florence should go away with a mournful recollection of her. She had meant to be so different, that she reproaches herself bitterly. Intent on making one last effort to redeem her character, she breaks from Mr Toots and runs away to find the coach, and show a parting smile. The Captain, divining her object, sets off after her; for he feels it his duty also to dismiss them with a cheer, if possible. Uncle Sol and Mr Toots are left behind together, outside the church, to wait for them.
The coach is gone, but the street is steep, and narrow, and blocked up, and Susan can see it at a stand-still in the distance, she is sure. Captain Cuttle follows her as she flies down the hill, and waves his glazed hat as a general signal, which may attract the right coach and which may not.
Susan outstrips the Captain, and comes up with it. She looks in at the window, sees Walter, with the gentle face beside him, and claps her hands and screams:
'Miss Floy, my darling! look at me! We are all so happy now, dear! One more good-bye, my precious, one more!'
How Susan does it, she don't know, but she reaches to the window, kisses her, and has her arms about her neck, in a moment.
We are all so happy now, my dear Miss Floy!' says Susan, with a suspicious catching in her breath. 'You, you won't be angry with me now. Now will you?'
'Angry, Susan!'
'No, no; I am sure you won't. I say you won't, my pet, my dearest!' exclaims Susan; 'and here's the Captain too - your friend the Captain, you know - to say good-bye once more!'
'Hooroar, my Heart's Delight!' vociferates the Captain, with a countenance of strong emotion. 'Hooroar, Wal'r my lad. Hooroar! Hooroar!'
What with the young husband at one window, and the young wife at the other; the Captain hanging on at this door, and Susan Nipper holding fast by that; the coach obliged to go on whether it will or no, and all the other carts and coaches turbulent because it hesitates; there never was so much confusion on four wheels. But Susan Nipper gallantly maintains her point. She keeps a smiling face upon her mistress, smiling through her tears, until the last. Even when she is left behind, the Captain continues to appear and disappear at the door, crying 'Hooroar, my lad! Hooroar, my Heart's Delight!' with his shirt-collar in a violent state of agitation, until it is hopeless to attempt to keep up with the coach any longer. Finally, when the coach is gone, Susan Nipper, being rejoined by the Captain, falls into a state of insensibility, and is taken into a baker's shop to recover.
Uncle Sol and Mr Toots wait patiently in the churchyard, sitting on the coping-stone of the railings, until Captain Cuttle and Susan come back, Neither being at all desirous to speak, or to be spoken to, they are excellent company, and quite satisfied. When they all arrive again at the little Midshipman, and sit down to breakfast, nobody can touch a morsel. Captain Cuttle makes a feint of being voracious about toast, but gives it up as a swindle. Mr Toots says, after breakfast, he will come back in the evening; and goes wandering about the town all day, with a vague sensation upon him as if he hadn't been to bed for a fortnight.
There is a strange charm in the house, and in the room, in which they have been used to be together, and out of which so much is gone. It aggravates, and yet it soothes, the sorrow of the separation. Mr Toots tells Susan Nipper when he comes at night, that he hasn't been so wretched all day long, and yet he likes it. He confides in Susan Nipper, being alone with her, and tells her what his feelings were when she gave him that candid opinion as to the probability of Miss Dombey's ever loving him. In the vein of confidence engendered by these common recollections, and their tears, Mr Toots proposes that they shall go out together, and buy something for supper. Miss Nipper assenting, they buy a good many little things; and, with the aid of Mrs Richards, set the supper out quite showily before the Captain and old Sol came home.
The Captain and old Sol have been on board the ship, and have established Di there, and have seen the chests put aboard. They have much to tell about the popularity of Walter, and the comforts he will have about him, and the quiet way in which it seems he has been working early and late, to make his cabin what the Captain calls 'a picter,' to surprise his little wife. 'A admiral's cabin, mind you,' says the Captain, 'ain't more trim.'
But one of the Captain's chief delights is, that he knows the big watch, and the sugar-tongs, and tea-spoons, are on board: and again and again he murmurs to himself, 'Ed'ard Cuttle, my lad, you never shaped a better course in your life than when you made that there little property over jintly. You see how the land bore, Ed'ard,' says the Captain, 'and it does you credit, my lad.'
The old Instrument-maker is more distraught and misty than he used to be, and takes the marriage and the parting very much to heart. But he is greatly comforted by having his old ally, Ned Cuttle, at his side; and he sits down to supper with a grateful and contented face.
'My boy has been preserved and thrives,' says old Sol Gills, rubbing his hands. 'What right have I to be otherwise than thankful and happy!'
The Captain, who has not yet taken his seat at the table, but who has been fidgeting about for some time, and now stands hesitating in his place, looks doubtfully at Mr Gills, and says:
'Sol! There's the last bottle of the old Madeira down below. Would you wish to have it up to-night, my boy, and drink to Wal'r and his wife?'
The Instrument-maker, looking wistfully at the Captain, puts his hand into the breast-pocket of his coffee-coloured coat, brings forth his pocket-book, and takes a letter out.
'To Mr Dombey,' says the old man. 'From Walter. To be sent in three weeks' time. I'll read it.'
'"Sir. I am married to your daughter. She is gone with me upon a distant voyage. To be devoted to her is to have no claim on her or you, but God knows that I am.
'"Why, loving her beyond all earthly things, I have yet, without remorse, united her to the uncertainties and dangers of my life, I will not say to you. You know why, and you are her father.
'"Do not reproach her. She has never reproached you.
'"I do not think or hope that you will ever forgive me. There is nothing I expect less. But if an hour should come when it will comfort you to believe that Florence has someone ever near her, the great charge of whose life is to cancel her remembrance of past sorrow, I solemnly assure you, you may, in that hour, rest in that belief."'
Solomon puts back the letter carefully in his pocket-book, and puts back his pocket-book in his coat.
'We won't drink the last bottle of the old Madeira yet, Ned,' says the old man thoughtfully. 'Not yet.
'Not yet,' assents the Captain. 'No. Not yet.'
Susan and Mr Toots are of the same opinion. After a silence they all sit down to supper, and drink to the young husband and wife in something else; and the last bottle of the old Madeira still remains among its dust and cobwebs, undisturbed.
A few days have elapsed, and a stately ship is out at sea, spreading its white wings to the favouring wind.
Upon the deck, image to the roughest man on board of something that is graceful, beautiful, and harmless - something that it is good and pleasant to have there, and that should make the voyage prosperous - is Florence. It is night, and she and Walter sit alone, watching the solemn path of light upon the sea between them and the moon.
At length she cannot see it plainly, for the tears that fill her eyes; and then she lays her head down on his breast, and puts her arms around his neck, saying, 'Oh Walter, dearest love, I am so happy!'
Her husband holds her to his heart, and they are very quiet, and the stately ship goes on serenely.
'As I hear the sea,' says Florence, 'and sit watching it, it brings so many days into my mind. It makes me think so much - '
'Of Paul, my love. I know it does.'
Of Paul and Walter. And the voices in the waves are always whispering to Florence, in their ceaseless murmuring, of love - of love, eternal and illimitable, not bounded by the confines of this world, or by the end of time, but ranging still, beyond the sea, beyond the sky, to the invisible country far away!
教区事务员桑兹先生和教堂领座人米福太太很早就到董贝先生结婚的那座华丽的教堂来，待在他们的工作岗位上了。这天上午有一位印度的黄脸的老先生要娶一位年轻的妻子，预料有六辆马车的客人要来参加婚礼。米福太太还听说，这位黄脸的老先生能够用钻石铺砌通到教堂的道路，而他几乎不会发觉他的财产少去了这样一笔数字。结婚的祝福仪式将是极为隆重的，——由副主教大师亲自主持，新娘将作为一个特别贵重的礼物，由警卫骑兵第三团特地派来的某个人送给男方主婚人。
米福太太这天早上对普通的人们比平日更不能容忍；在这个问题上她的意见向来是强烈的，因为这是与免费座位有关的。米福太太并不是研究政治经济学的（她认为这门科学是跟不信奉英国国教的人有关的，“跟浸礼教徒或韦斯利教派的教徒有关”，她说），可是她无论如何也不明白，为什么你们这些普通的人们也必须结婚。“讨厌！”米福太太说道，“您向他们念的东西跟向别人念的东西完全一样，可是从他们那里只能得到一些六便士的硬币，而得不到金镑！”
教区事务员桑兹先生比米福太太心胸宽大——不过要知道他不是个领座人。“事情还得办，夫人，”他说道，“我们还得让他们结婚。我们首先还得补充我们国民学校的学生，我们还得要有我们的常备军。我们还得让他们结婚，夫人，”桑兹先生说道，“这样才能使国家繁荣昌盛。”
桑兹先生坐在台阶上、米福太太在教堂里掸灰尘的时候，一对穿著朴素的年轻人走进教堂。米福太太的干瘪的帽子敏捷地转向他们，因为他们这样老早来到教堂，她从这一点看出这对人有从家里逃出来的迹象。可是他们并不想要结婚，“只是到教堂来转转，”——那位先生说道。由于他在米福太太的手掌里塞了慷慨的礼金，她那尖酸刻薄的脸孔就开朗起来了，她那干瘪的帽子和枯瘦的身形也向下低垂，行了个屈膝礼，并发出了窸窸窣窣的。
米福太太重新掸灰尘，并把坐垫敲打得蓬松一些——因为据说黄脸的老先生膝盖娇嫩——，但她那双没有光泽的、习惯于领座的眼睛并没有离开那对在教堂里走来走去的年轻人。“阿嗨，”米福太太咳嗽道，她的咳嗽比她管理的膝垫里的干草还要干，“你们不久有一天还会到我们这里来的，我这么说没错吧，我亲爱的。”
他们在看镶嵌在墙上的一块纪念某个死者的石碑。他们离米福太太很远，但是米福太太却能用半只眼睛看到她怎样靠在他的胳膊上，他的头怎样低垂到她的头上。“唔，唔，”米福太太说道，“你们可能做更荒唐的事情，因为你们是很巧妙的一对！”
在米福太太的话中没有吐露她个人的感情。她对成双结对的男女几乎并不比对棺材更感兴趣。她是一位消瘦的、笔直的、干枯的老太太——不像个女人，而像是一张教堂里的条凳式座位——，从她那里找到的同情就跟从木片中找到的一样多。但是肥头胖耳、穿着深红色饰边礼服的桑兹先生却是另一种性格的人。当他们站在台阶上目送着这一对年轻人离去的时候，他说，“这姑娘的身材优美，是不是？”，而且就他所能看到的来说（因为她走出教堂的时候低着头），她的面貌也非常漂亮。“总的来说，米福太太，”桑兹先生津津有味地说道，“您可以管她叫做一个玫瑰骨朵。”
米福太太戴着干瘪帽子的头微微地点了点，丝毫也不赞成这些话；桑兹先生虽然是个教区事务员，但她心里打定主意，不论他给她多少钱，她也决不做他的妻子。
这一对年轻人走出教堂，在大门口向外走去的时候，说了些什么呢？
“亲爱的沃尔特，谢谢你！现在我可以快乐地离开了。”
“我们回来的时候还可以再来看看他的坟墓，弗洛伦斯。”
弗洛伦斯抬起含着泪水、闪闪发亮的眼睛，看着他的亲切的脸。她把空着一只手紧握着另一只紧挽着他胳膊的手。
“现在很早，沃尔特，街上几乎还没有人。我们走着去吧。”
“可是您会很累的，我亲爱的。”
“不不！我们第一次一起走的时候我是很累的，但是今天我不会累。”
就这样，弗洛伦斯和沃尔特在他们结婚的这天早上，一起在街道上走着；跟过去没有很大的变化——她，仍旧那样的天真无邪，真心诚意；他，仍旧那样心胸坦率、朝气蓬勃，可是却更因为她而感到自豪了。
甚至在好多年以前的孩子的步行中，他们也不曾像今天这样远离周围整个世界。好多年以前孩子的脚步也不曾像他们现在的脚步这样踩着如此迷人的土地。孩子的信任与爱可以给出许多次，并会在许多地方生长起来，可是弗洛伦斯的女性的心和它所珍藏着的不可分割的爱却只能给出一次，如果遭到冷落与不忠的话，那么它就只能萎靡不振，然后死去。
他们选择了最安静的街道，并且不是走近她老家所在的街道。这是个睛朗的、温暖的夏天的早晨；当他们朝着笼罩着伦敦城的阴沉沉的雾走去的时候，太阳照耀着他们。宝贵的货物在商店中陈列着；宝石、金、银在首饰商的阳光充足的窗子中闪耀着；当他们走过的时候，高大的房屋在他们身上投下了庄严的阴影。可是他们在阳光中、在阴影中相亲相爱地一起向前走去，看不见周围的一切；除了他们在彼此身上找到的财富之外，他们没有想到任何其他财富；除了他们在彼此身上找到的家之外，他们没有想到其他更值得自豪的家。
他们渐渐地走进了比较阴暗、比较狭窄的街道；在这些街道里，只有在那些街道角落里和那些小片敞开的地方才能通过薄雾看到时而黄色、时而红色的太阳；在那些小片敞开的地方，或者有株树，或者有一座教堂，或者有一条铺砌的道路和一座台阶，或者有一小片意趣奇妙的花园，或者有一片墓地，墓地上寥寥无几的坟墓和墓碑几乎已发黑了。弗洛伦斯相亲相爱地、信任地、紧紧挽着他的胳膊，穿过所有狭窄的围场与胡同以及阴暗的街道，向前走去，去成为他的妻子。
她的心现在跳动得更快了，困为沃尔特告诉她，他们的教堂离这里很近了。他们走过了几个很大的仓库，仓库门口停着一些四轮运货马车，忙碌的搬运工人堵塞了道路，可是弗洛伦斯没有看到他们，也没有听到他们说话；接着气氛安静下来了，白天的光线变得阴暗了，现在弗洛伦斯是在一座教堂里了，那里散发出像地窖里一样的气味。
那位衣衫褴褛、身材矮小的老头子，失望的钟声的敲打者，这时正站在门廊里，他的帽子就放在洗礼盘中——因为他是教堂司事，在这里就像在家中一样毫无拘束。他把他们领进一个老旧的、褐色的、镶嵌了嵌板的、积满灰尘的法衣室；它像是一个摆在角落里的、已经取出格板的碗柜；室内被虫蛀了的登记簿散发出一股像鼻烟的气味，它使眼泪汪汪的尼珀直打喷嚏。
年轻的新娘在这老旧的、积满灰尘的地方看去是多么富有朝气、多么美丽，在她身旁除了她的丈夫之外，没有别的亲属。这里有一位满身灰尘的年老的教会文书，他在教堂对面由柱子构成的加固工事的拱道的下面开设了一个出卖过时消息之类的店铺。这里有一位满身灰尘的年老的教堂领座人，她只供养她自己，并觉得这就够她操心费神的。这里有一位满身灰尘的年老的教区事务员（这位教区事务员和上面说到的那位教堂领座人就是图茨先生上星期天看到的），他和一个虔敬社有些关系；这个虔敬社在邻近的院子里有一个祈祷厅，祈祷厅里有一个凡人不容易见到过的彩色玻璃窗。这里有积满灰尘的木头壁架和上楣，它们长短不齐地摆放在圣坛上面、围屏上面、边座周围以及虔敬社社长与监察人1694年大事记的碑文上面。这里有积满灰尘的回声板，装在布道坛和读经台上面，看去就像盖子一样，如果教士在执行祈祷仪式时侮辱了教堂会众的话，那么就可以把它拉下来，盖在这些教士的头上。这里到处都有积聚灰尘的各种可能的装置，只有在教堂的墓地是例外，那里这方面的设施是很有限的。
船长、所尔舅舅和图茨先生来了。教士正在法衣室里穿上宽大的白色法衣，教堂文书则在他周围走来走去，吹去法衣上的灰尘；新郎和新娘站在圣坛前面。除非把苏珊•尼珀当做女嫔相，否则就没有女嫔相了；至于代理主婚人，那么没有谁能比卡特尔船长更合适的了。一位装了一条木腿的人，嘴里嚼着一只烂苹果，手里提着一只蓝色的袋子，到教堂里来看看正在进行什么事情，但是发现没有什么有趣的事，就又一拐一拐地走开了，他那假腿在门外一阵阵的回声中向前走着。
弗洛伦斯羞怯地低垂着头，跪在圣坛前面，没有一缕仁慈的光线照在她的身上。上午的太阳被房屋遮蔽了，没有照射到那里。门外有一株枯槁的树，树上有几只麻雀在啁啾几声；在窗子对面，在一位染色工人的顶楼里，在太阳能偷偷照进去的一个小孔中有一只画眉，当结婚仪式在进行的时候，它大声地吱吱叫着。还有那位装着木腿的人正迈着沉重的步子向别处走去。满身灰尘的教堂文书说“阿门”时，就像麦克佩斯一样，稍稍梗塞在喉咙中①；但是卡特尔船长帮助他说出来，他怀着满腔热情说它，在仪式中过去从来不说“阿门”的地方，他也插进去说了三次。
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①莎士比亚悲剧《麦克佩斯》第二幕第二场：
麦克佩斯：一个喊，“上帝保佑我们！”一个喊，“阿门！”好像他们看见我高举这一双杀人的血手似的。听着他们惊慌的口气，当他们说过了“上帝保佑我们”以后，我想要说“阿门”却怎么也说不出来。
他们结婚了，在使人打喷嚏的旧登记簿当中的一本上签了名；教士的宽大的白色法衣又收藏到积满灰尘的地方；教士则回家了。在黑暗的教堂的一个黑暗的角落里，弗洛伦斯转过身，走到苏珊•尼珀身边，在她的怀抱里哭泣着。图茨先生的眼睛红了。船长把鼻子擦得亮亮的。所尔舅舅把眼镜从前额上拉下来，走到门口。
“上帝保佑你，苏珊；我最亲爱的苏珊！如果有一天你能替我对沃尔特的爱情和我必须爱他的理由作见证人的话，那么请为了他的缘故这样做吧。再见！再见！”
他们决定不回到海军军官候补生那里，而在这里离别。马车在附近等着他们。
尼珀姑娘说不出话；她只是抽抽嗒嗒地哭着，气都喘不过来，同时紧紧地拥抱着她的女主人。图茨先生走到她跟前，安慰她，劝她高兴起来，并照看着她。弗洛伦斯向他伸出手来，真诚地向他凑近嘴唇，并且吻了所尔舅舅和卡特尔船长，然后被她年轻的丈夫带走了。
可是苏珊不容许弗洛伦斯心里对她留下一个悲伤的回忆。她原先本想表现得和现在完全不同，所以她痛苦地责备着自己。她决定作最后一次尝试，来恢复她的性格，因此就离开图茨先生，跑去找马车，以便露出笑脸告别。船长猜出她的目的，就跟随着她；因为他也觉得，如果可能的话，他有责任用欢呼来送别他们。所尔舅舅和图茨先生留在后面，在教堂前面等待着他们。
马车已经启程了，但是街道陡峭、狭窄、堵塞，苏珊毫不怀疑，她看到马车正停在远处的一个地方。当她沿着小山往下飞跑过去的时候，卡特尔船长跟随在她的后面，挥动着上了光的帽子作为信号；它可能会引起那辆马车的注意，也可能不会引起它的注意。
苏珊把船长抛在后面，赶上了马车。她往车窗里看，看见了沃尔特和他身旁的温柔的脸孔，就拍拍手，尖声叫道：
“弗洛伊小姐，我亲爱的！请看看我吧！现在我们全都这么快乐，亲爱的！再说一次再见吧，我亲爱的，再说一次再见吧！”
苏珊怎么做到了这一点，她自己也不知道，不过她在片刻间就把头探进窗子，吻了弗洛伦斯，并用手搂住她的脖子。
“现在我们全都这么——这么快乐，我亲爱的弗洛伊小姐！”苏珊说道，她的可疑地中断了一下。“现在您，您不会生我的气了吧。不会了，是不是？”
“生气，苏珊！”
“不会了，不会了；我相信您不会了。我说您不会了，我的宝贝，我最亲爱的！”苏珊高声喊道，“船长也在这里——您的朋友船长——您知道——他也来跟你们再一次告别！”
“万岁，我的心的喜悦！”船长脸上露出强烈的激动的表情，并提高嗓门，喊道，“万岁！我的孩子沃尔。万岁！万岁！”
年轻的丈夫从一个窗子中探出身子，年轻的妻子从另一个窗子中探出身子；船长悬挂在这个车门上，苏珊•尼珀紧紧抓住另一个车门；马车不管是愿意还是不愿意，不得不继续向前驶行；所有其他的二轮运货马车与轿式马车都由于它的停顿而怨声鼎沸；在四只轮子上面从来没有发生过这样的混乱。可是苏珊•尼珀还是勇敢地把她的决心坚持到底。她一直向她的女主人露出笑脸，流着眼泪笑着，直到最后。甚至当她被马车抛在后面的时候，船长还时而出现在车门口，时而又在车门口消失，喊道，“万岁，我的孩子！万岁，我的心的喜悦！”他的衬衫领子则在激烈地飘动着，直到后来，他再没有希望赶上马车了，他才停止追赶。当马车离开之后，船长又跟苏珊•尼珀走在一起的时候，她人事不省地昏了过去，于是船长就把她送到一家烤面包的店铺里，让她苏醒过来。
所尔舅舅和图茨先生在教堂院子里坐在栏杆的盖顶石上，耐心地等着卡特尔船长和苏珊回来。谁也不想讲话，谁也不想听别人讲话，他们俩真是极好的伙伴，彼此都很满意。当他们四人又全都回到海军军官候补生家里，坐下来吃早饭的时候，没有一个人能咽得下一口。卡特尔船长假装出对烤面包片很贪吃的样子，但终究还是放弃了这个骗人的花招。图茨先生在早餐之后说，他将在晚上回来；他整天都在城里闲逛，心中模糊地感到，仿佛他已有两个星期没有睡过觉似的。
他们过去惯常待在一起、如今却变得空荡荡的住宅与房间有着一种奇怪的魔力。它加深了、然而却又抚慰了离别的悲哀。图茨先生夜间回来的时候告诉苏珊•尼珀，他从来不曾像今天这样感到忧郁的，然而他却喜欢这样。当他们单独在一起的时候，他向苏珊•尼珀吐露，当她过去坦率地说出董贝小姐是否有一天可能爱他的看法的时候，他当时的心情是怎样的。
怀着这些共同回忆和一起流泪所产生的相互信任的心情，图茨先生建议他们一起出去买些晚餐吃的东西。尼珀姑娘同意，他们就买回好多美味的小食品，在理查兹大嫂的帮助下，开出了一顿相当丰美的晚餐。
船长和老所尔到船上去过了；他们把戴送到那里，并看着箱子装上船。他们有很多话好谈：沃尔特怎样受到大家的喜爱；他怎样把船上收拾得舒舒适适；他怎样一直在悄悄地忙乎着，把他的船舱布置得就像船长所说，像“图画”一样，让他的小妻子看了吃惊。“要知道，”船长说道，“海军上将的船舱也不会比那更漂亮。”
但是最使船长高兴的事情当中的一件事，就是他知道，那只大表，还有方糖钳子和茶匙都已放到船上了。他一次又一次低声地自言自语道，“爱德华•卡特尔，我的孩子，当你把那包小小的财产转交给他们共同使用时，你是选择了你这一生中最好的一条航线啊！爱德华，你知道哪里是岸，这给你增光，我的孩子。”船长说道。
年老的仪器制造商比平时更心神错乱，眼睛更多泪；结婚与离别使他很伤心。但是有他的老朋友内德•卡特尔在身边陪伴他，使他感到极大的安慰；他坐下吃晚饭时，脸上的表情是感激和满足的。
“我的孩子安全无恙，茁壮成长，”老所尔•吉尔斯搓着手，说道，“我有什么权利不感谢与快乐呢！”
船长一直坐立不安，还没有在桌旁坐下来，这时迟疑不决地站在他的地方，怀疑地看着吉尔斯先生，说道：
“所尔！下面还有最后一瓶马德拉陈酒，今天夜里你是不是希望把它拿上来，为沃尔和他的妻子的健康干杯？”
仪器制造商若有所思地看着船长，把手伸进咖啡色上衣胸前的小袋中，掏出了一个小本子，从里面抽出一封信。
“沃尔特写给董贝先生的信，”老人说道，“要求在三星期内送到。我来念吧。”
“‘先生。我跟您的女儿结婚了。她已跟我出发进行一次远距离的航行。要对她忠诚就是对她或对您不提任何要求；但是上帝知道，我对她是忠诚的。
“‘我爱她胜过世间一切事物。为什么我毫不后悔地已把她跟我的变化无常、充满危险的生活联结在一起，我不想跟您说。您知道为什么，您是她的父亲。
“‘别责备她。她从来没有责备过您。
“‘我不认为，也不希望，您有一天会宽恕我。我丝毫也不指望这一点。如果将来有一个时候，您快慰地相信，在弗洛伦斯身边有一个人，他的生活的重大责任就是消除她对过去悲痛的回忆，如果这样一个时候来临的话，那么我将庄严地向您保证，那时候您将会相信这一点而安心。’”
所罗门把信小心地放回小本子里，又把小本子放回到上衣中。
“我们现在还不要喝那最后一瓶马德拉陈酒，内德，”老人沉思地说道，“现在还不喝。”
“现在还不喝，”船长同意道，“对，现在还不喝。”
苏珊与图茨先生也是同样的意见。他们沉默了一会儿之后全都坐下来吃晚饭，喝点儿别的东西来祝贺这对年轻夫妇的健康；那最后一瓶马德拉陈酒依旧搁在灰尘与蜘蛛网中间，没有受到打扰。
过了几天之后，一艘宏伟的船在大海上航行，迎着顺风，展开它的白色的翅膀。
弗洛伦斯在甲板上。在船上最粗野的人们看来，她是优雅、美丽与纯洁的化身。她的来到将给船上带来快乐，将使这次航行平安与吉利。这是夜间。她与沃尔特单独坐在那里，注视着他们与月亮之间的海上庄严的光带。
她终于不能清楚地看到它了，因为泪水涌满了她的眼睛；于是她把头俯伏在他的胸上，把胳膊搂着他的脖子，说道，“啊，沃尔特，我亲爱的，我是多么幸福！”
她的丈夫把她紧紧抱在心窝里，他们很安静；宏伟的船宁静地向前驶行。
“当我听着大海，坐在这里注视着它的时候，”弗洛伦斯说道，“以往的许多日子涌到了我的心头。它使我想到——”
“想到保罗，我亲爱的，我知道这点。”
想到保罗和沃尔特。海浪在它不断的哗哗的中，一直在向弗洛伦斯低声诉说着爱情——永恒的、无限的爱情；它越过了这个世界的边界，越过了时间的尽头，延伸到海洋之外，延伸到天空之外，一直延伸到遥远的看不见的国家！
Chapter 58
After a Lapse
The sea had ebbed and flowed, through a whole year. Through a whole year, the winds and clouds had come and gone; the ceaseless work of Time had been performed, in storm and sunshine. Through a whole year, the tides of human chance and change had set in their allotted courses. Through a whole year, the famous House of Dombey and Son had fought a fight for life, against cross accidents, doubtful rumours, unsuccessful ventures, unpropitious times, and most of all, against the infatuation of its head, who would not contract its enterprises by a hair's breadth, and would not listen to a word of warning that the ship he strained so hard against the storm, was weak, and could not bear it. The year was out, and the great House was down.
One summer afternoon; a year, wanting some odd days, after the marriage in the City church; there was a buzz and whisper upon 'Change of a great failure. A certain cold proud man, well known there, was not there, nor was he represented there. Next day it was noised abroad that Dombey and Son had stopped, and next night there was a List of Bankrupts published, headed by that name.
The world was very busy now, in sooth, and had a deal to say. It was an innocently credulous and a much ill-used world. It was a world in which there was 'no other sort of bankruptcy whatever. There were no conspicuous people in it, trading far and wide on rotten banks of religion, patriotism, virtue, honour. There was no amount worth mentioning of mere paper in circulation, on which anybody lived pretty handsomely, promising to pay great sums of goodness with no effects. There were no shortcomings anywhere, in anything but money. The world was very angry indeed; and the people especially, who, in a worse world, might have been supposed to be apt traders themselves in shows and pretences, were observed to be mightily indignant.
Here was a new inducement to dissipation, presented to that sport of circumstances, Mr Perch the Messenger! It was apparently the fate of Mr Perch to be always waking up, and finding himself famous. He had but yesterday, as one might say, subsided into private life from the celebrity of the elopement and the events that followed it; and now he was made a more important man than ever, by the bankruptcy. Gliding from his bracket in the outer office where he now sat, watching the strange faces of accountants and others, who quickly superseded nearly all the old clerks, Mr Perch had but to show himself in the court outside, or, at farthest, in the bar of the King's Arms, to be asked a multitude of questions, almost certain to include that interesting question, what would he take to drink? Then would Mr Perch descant upon the hours of acute uneasiness he and Mrs Perch had suffered out at Balls Pond, when they first suspected 'things was going wrong.' Then would Mr Perch relate to gaping listeners, in a low voice, as if the corpse of the deceased House were lying unburied in the next room, how Mrs Perch had first come to surmise that things was going wrong by hearing him (Perch) moaning in his sleep, 'twelve and ninepence in the pound, twelve and ninepence in the pound!' Which act of somnambulism he supposed to have originated in the impression made upon him by the change in Mr Dombey's face. Then would he inform them how he had once said, 'Might I make so bold as ask, Sir, are you unhappy in your mind?' and how Mr Dombey had replied, 'My faithful Perch - but no, it cannot be!' and with that had struck his hand upon his forehead, and said, 'Leave me, Perch!' Then, in short, would Mr Perch, a victim to his position, tell all manner of lies; affecting himself to tears by those that were of a moving nature, and really believing that the inventions of yesterday had, on repetition, a sort of truth about them to-day.
Mr Perch always closed these conferences by meekly remarking, That, of course, whatever his suspicions might have been (as if he had ever had any!) it wasn't for him to betray his trust, was it? Which sentiment (there never being any creditors present) was received as doing great honour to his feelings. Thus, he generally brought away a soothed conscience and left an agreeable impression behind him, when he returned to his bracket: again to sit watching the strange faces of the accountants and others, making so free with the great mysteries, the Books; or now and then to go on tiptoe into Mr Dombey's empty room, and stir the fire; or to take an airing at the door, and have a little more doleful chat with any straggler whom he knew; or to propitiate, with various small attentions, the head accountant: from whom Mr Perch had expectations of a messengership in a Fire Office, when the affairs of the House should be wound up.
To Major Bagstock, the bankruptcy was quite a calamity. The Major was not a sympathetic character - his attention being wholly concentrated on J. B. - nor was he a man subject to lively emotions, except in the physical regards of gasping and choking. But he had so paraded his friend Dombey at the club; had so flourished him at the heads of the members in general, and so put them down by continual assertion of his riches; that the club, being but human, was delighted to retort upon the Major, by asking him, with a show of great concern, whether this tremendous smash had been at all expected, and how his friend Dombey bore it. To such questions, the Major, waxing very purple, would reply that it was a bad world, Sir, altogether; that Joey knew a thing or two, but had been done, Sir, done like an infant; that if you had foretold this, Sir, to J. Bagstock, when he went abroad with Dombey and was chasing that vagabond up and down France, J. Bagstock would have pooh-pooh'd you - would have pooh- pooh'd you, Sir, by the Lord! That Joe had been deceived, Sir, taken in, hoodwinked, blindfolded, but was broad awake again and staring; insomuch, Sir, that if Joe's father were to rise up from the grave to-morrow, he wouldn't trust the old blade with a penny piece, but would tell him that his son Josh was too old a soldier to be done again, Sir. That he was a suspicious, crabbed, cranky, used-up, J. B. infidel, Sir; and that if it were consistent with the dignity of a rough and tough old Major, of the old school, who had had the honour of being personally known to, and commended by, their late Royal Highnesses the Dukes of Kent and York, to retire to a tub and live in it, by Gad! Sir, he'd have a tub in Pall Mall to-morrow, to show his contempt for mankind!'
Of all this, and many variations of the same tune, the Major would deliver himself with so many apoplectic symptoms, such rollings of his head, and such violent growls of ill usage and resentment, that the younger members of the club surmised he had invested money in his friend Dombey's House, and lost it; though the older soldiers and deeper dogs, who knew Joe better, wouldn't hear of such a thing. The unfortunate Native, expressing no opinion, suffered dreadfully; not merely in his moral feelings, which were regularly fusilladed by the Major every hour in the day, and riddled through and through, but in his sensitiveness to bodily knocks and bumps, which was kept continually on the stretch. For six entire weeks after the bankruptcy, this miserable foreigner lived in a rainy season of boot-jacks and brushes.
Mrs Chick had three ideas upon the subject of the terrible reverse. The first was that she could not understand it. The second, that her brother had not made an effort. The third, that if she had been invited to dinner on the day of that first party, it never would have happened; and that she had said so, at the time.
Nobody's opinion stayed the misfortune, lightened it, or made it heavier. It was understood that the affairs of the House were to be wound up as they best could be; that Mr Dombey freely resigned everything he had, and asked for no favour from anyone. That any resumption of the business was out of the question, as he would listen to no friendly negotiation having that compromise in view; that he had relinquished every post of trust or distinction he had held, as a man respected among merchants; that he was dying, according to some; that he was going melancholy mad, according to others; that he was a broken man, according to all.
The clerks dispersed after holding a little dinner of condolence among themselves, which was enlivened by comic singing, and went off admirably. Some took places abroad, and some engaged in other Houses at home; some looked up relations in the country, for whom they suddenly remembered they had a particular affection; and some advertised for employment in the newspapers. Mr Perch alone remained of all the late establishment, sitting on his bracket looking at the accountants, or starting off it, to propitiate the head accountant, who was to get him into the Fire Office. The Counting House soon got to be dirty and neglected. The principal slipper and dogs' collar seller, at the corner of the court, would have doubted the propriety of throwing up his forefinger to the brim of his hat, any more, if Mr Dombey had appeared there now; and the ticket porter, with his hands under his white apron, moralised good sound morality about ambition, which (he observed) was not, in his opinion, made to rhyme to perdition, for nothing.
Mr Morfin, the hazel-eyed bachelor, with the hair and whiskers sprinkled with grey, was perhaps the only person within the atmosphere of the House - its head, of course, excepted - who was heartily and deeply affected by the disaster that had befallen it. He had treated Mr Dombey with due respect and deference through many years, but he had never disguised his natural character, or meanly truckled to him, or pampered his master passion for the advancement of his own purposes. He had, therefore, no self-disrespect to avenge; no long-tightened springs to release with a quick recoil. He worked early and late to unravel whatever was complicated or difficult in the records of the transactions of the House; was always in attendance to explain whatever required explanation; sat in his old room sometimes very late at night, studying points by his mastery of which he could spare Mr Dombey the pain of being personally referred to; and then would go home to Islington, and calm his mind by producing the most dismal and forlorn sounds out of his violoncello before going to bed.
He was solacing himself with this melodious grumbler one evening, and, having been much dispirited by the proceedings of the day, was scraping consolation out of its deepest notes, when his landlady (who was fortunately deaf, and had no other consciousness of these performances than a sensation of something rumbling in her bones) announced a lady.
'In mourning,' she said.
The violoncello stopped immediately; and the performer, laying it on the sofa with great tenderness and care, made a sign that the lady was to come in. He followed directly, and met Harriet Carker on the stair.
'Alone!' he said, 'and John here this morning! Is there anything the matter, my dear? But no,' he added, 'your face tells quite another story.'
'I am afraid it is a selfish revelation that you see there, then,' she answered.
'It is a very pleasant one,' said he; 'and, if selfish, a novelty too, worth seeing in you. But I don't believe that.'
He had placed a chair for her by this time, and sat down opposite; the violoncello lying snugly on the sofa between them.
'You will not be surprised at my coming alone, or at John's not having told you I was coming,' said Harriet; 'and you will believe that, when I tell you why I have come. May I do so now?'
'You can do nothing better.'
'You were not busy?'
He pointed to the violoncello lying on the sofa, and said 'I have been, all day. Here's my witness. I have been confiding all my cares to it. I wish I had none but my own to tell.'
'Is the House at an end?' said Harriet, earnestly.
'Completely at an end.'
'Will it never be resumed?'
'Never.'
The bright expression of her face was not overshadowed as her lips silently repeated the word. He seemed to observe this with some little involuntary surprise: and said again:
'Never. You remember what I told you. It has been, all along, impossible to convince him; impossible to reason with him; sometimes, impossible even to approach him. The worst has happened; and the House has fallen, never to be built up any more.'
'And Mr Dombey, is he personally ruined?'
'Ruined.'
'Will he have no private fortune left? Nothing?'
A certain eagerness in her voice, and something that was almost joyful in her look, seemed to surprise him more and more; to disappoint him too, and jar discordantly against his own emotions. He drummed with the fingers of one hand on the table, looking wistfully at her, and shaking his head, said, after a pause:
'The extent of Mr Dombey's resources is not accurately within my knowledge; but though they are doubtless very large, his obligations are enormous. He is a gentleman of high honour and integrity. Any man in his position could, and many a man in his position would, have saved himself, by making terms which would have very slightly, almost insensibly, increased the losses of those who had had dealings with him, and left him a remnant to live upon. But he is resolved on payment to the last farthing of his means. His own words are, that they will clear, or nearly clear, the House, and that no one can lose much. Ah, Miss Harriet, it would do us no harm to remember oftener than we do, that vices are sometimes only virtues carried to excess! His pride shows well in this.'
She heard him with little or no change in her expression, and with a divided attention that showed her to be busy with something in her own mind. When he was silent, she asked him hurriedly:
'Have you seen him lately?'
'No one sees him. When this crisis of his affairs renders it necessary for him to come out of his house, he comes out for the occasion, and again goes home, and shuts himself up, and will sea no one. He has written me a letter, acknowledging our past connexion in higher terms than it deserved, and parting from me. I am delicate of obtruding myself upon him now, never having had much intercourse with him in better times; but I have tried to do so. I have written, gone there, entreated. Quite in vain.'
He watched her, as in the hope that she would testify some greater concern than she had yet shown; and spoke gravely and feelingly, as if to impress her the more; but there was no change in her.
'Well, well, Miss Harriet,' he said, with a disappointed air, 'this is not to the purpose. You have not come here to hear this. Some other and pleasanter theme is in your mind. Let it be in mine, too, and we shall talk upon more equal terms. Come!'
'No, it is the same theme,' returned Harriet, with frank and quick surprise. 'Is it not likely that it should be? Is it not natural that John and I should have been thinking and speaking very much of late of these great changes? Mr Dombey, whom he served so many years - you know upon what terms - reduced, as you describe; and we quite rich!'
Good, true face, as that face of hers was, and pleasant as it had been to him, Mr Morfin, the hazel-eyed bachelor, since the first time he had ever looked upon it, it pleased him less at that moment, lighted with a ray of exultation, than it had ever pleased him before.
'I need not remind you,' said Harriet, casting down her eyes upon her black dress, 'through what means our circumstances changed. You have not forgotten that our brother James, upon that dreadful day, left no will, no relations but ourselves.'
The face was pleasanter to him now, though it was pale and melancholy, than it had been a moment since. He seemed to breathe more cheerily.
'You know,' she said, 'our history, the history of both my brothers, in connexion with the unfortunate, unhappy gentleman, of whom you have spoken so truly. You know how few our wants are - John's and mine - and what little use we have for money, after the life we have led together for so many years; and now that he is earning an income that is ample for us, through your kindness. You are not unprepared to hear what favour I have come to ask of you?'
'I hardly know. I was, a minute ago. Now, I think, I am not.'
'Of my dead brother I say nothing. If the dead know what we do - but you understand me. Of my living brother I could say much; but what need I say more, than that this act of duty, in which I have come to ask your indispensable assistance, is his own, and that he cannot rest until it is performed!'
She raised her eyes again; and the light of exultation in her face began to appear beautiful, in the observant eyes that watched her.
'Dear Sir,' she went on to say, 'it must be done very quietly and secretly. Your experience and knowledge will point out a way of doing it. Mr Dombey may, perhaps, be led to believe that it is something saved, unexpectedly, from the wreck of his fortunes; or that it is a voluntary tribute to his honourable and upright character, from some of those with whom he has had great dealings; or that it is some old lost debt repaid. There must be many ways of doing it. I know you will choose the best. The favour I have come to ask is, that you will do it for us in your own kind, generous, considerate manner. That you will never speak of it to John, whose chief happiness in this act of restitution is to do it secretly, unknown, and unapproved of: that only a very small part of the inheritance may be reserved to us, until Mr Dombey shall have possessed the interest of the rest for the remainder of his life; that you will keep our secret, faithfully - but that I am sure you will; and that, from this time, it may seldom be whispered, even between you and me, but may live in my thoughts only as a new reason for thankfulness to Heaven, and joy and pride in my brother.'
Such a look of exultation there may be on Angels' faces when the one repentant sinner enters Heaven, among ninety-nine just men. It was not dimmed or tarnished by the joyful tears that filled her eyes, but was the brighter for them.
'My dear Harriet,' said Mr Morfin, after a silence, 'I was not prepared for this. Do I understand you that you wish to make your own part in the inheritance available for your good purpose, as well as John's?'
'Oh, yes,' she returned 'When we have shared everything together for so long a time, and have had no care, hope, or purpose apart, could I bear to be excluded from my share in this? May I not urge a claim to be my brother's partner and companion to the last?'
'Heaven forbid that I should dispute it!' he replied.
'We may rely on your friendly help?' she said. 'I knew we might!'
'I should be a worse man than, - than I hope I am, or would willingly believe myself, if I could not give you that assurance from my heart and soul. You may, implicitly. Upon my honour, I will keep your secret. And if it should be found that Mr Dombey is so reduced as I fear he will be, acting on a determination that there seem to be no means of influencing, I will assist you to accomplish the design, on which you and John are jointly resolved.'
She gave him her hand, and thanked him with a cordial, happy face.
'Harriet,' he said, detaining it in his. 'To speak to you of the worth of any sacrifice that you can make now - above all, of any sacrifice of mere money - would be idle and presumptuous. To put before you any appeal to reconsider your purpose or to set narrow limits to it, would be, I feel, not less so. I have no right to mar the great end of a great history, by any obtrusion of my own weak self. I have every right to bend my head before what you confide to me, satisfied that it comes from a higher and better source of inspiration than my poor worldly knowledge. I will say only this: I am your faithful steward; and I would rather be so, and your chosen friend, than I would be anybody in the world, except yourself.'
She thanked him again, cordially, and wished him good-night. 'Are you going home?' he said. 'Let me go with you.'
'Not to-night. I am not going home now; I have a visit to make alone. Will you come to-morrow?'
'Well, well,' said he, 'I'll come to-morrow. In the meantime, I'll think of this, and how we can best proceed. And perhaps I'll think of it, dear Harriet, and - and - think of me a little in connexion with it.'
He handed her down to a coach she had in waiting at the door; and if his landlady had not been deaf, she would have heard him muttering as he went back upstairs, when the coach had driven off, that we were creatures of habit, and it was a sorrowful habit to be an old bachelor.
The violoncello lying on the sofa between the two chairs, he took it up, without putting away the vacant chair, and sat droning on it, and slowly shaking his head at the vacant chair, for a long, long time. The expression he communicated to the instrument at first, though monstrously pathetic and bland, was nothing to the expression he communicated to his own face, and bestowed upon the empty chair: which was so sincere, that he was obliged to have recourse to Captain Cuttle's remedy more than once, and to rub his face with his sleeve. By degrees, however, the violoncello, in unison with his own frame of mind, glided melodiously into the Harmonious Blacksmith, which he played over and over again, until his ruddy and serene face gleamed like true metal on the anvil of a veritable blacksmith. In fine, the violoncello and the empty chair were the companions of his bachelorhood until nearly midnight; and when he took his supper, the violoncello set up on end in the sofa corner, big with the latent harmony of a whole foundry full of harmonious blacksmiths, seemed to ogle the empty chair out of its crooked eyes, with unutterable intelligence.
When Harriet left the house, the driver of her hired coach, taking a course that was evidently no new one to him, went in and out by bye-ways, through that part of the suburbs, until he arrived at some open ground, where there were a few quiet little old houses standing among gardens. At the garden-gate of one of these he stopped, and Harriet alighted.
Her gentle ringing at the bell was responded to by a dolorous-looking woman, of light complexion, with raised eyebrows, and head drooping on one side, who curtseyed at sight of her, and conducted her across the garden to the house.
'How is your patient, nurse, to-night?' said Harriet.
'In a poor way, Miss, I am afraid. Oh how she do remind me, sometimes, of my Uncle's Betsey Jane!' returned the woman of the light complexion, in a sort of doleful rapture.
'In what respect?' asked Harriet.
'Miss, in all respects,' replied the other, 'except that she's grown up, and Betsey Jane, when at death's door, was but a child.'
'But you have told me she recovered,' observed Harriet mildly; 'so there is the more reason for hope, Mrs Wickam.'
'Ah, Miss, hope is an excellent thing for such as has the spirits to bear it!' said Mrs Wickam, shaking her head. 'My own spirits is not equal to it, but I don't owe it any grudge. I envys them that is so blest!'
'You should try to be more cheerful,' remarked Harriet.
'Thank you, Miss, I'm sure,' said Mrs Wickam grimly. 'If I was so inclined, the loneliness of this situation - you'll excuse my speaking so free - would put it out of my power, in four and twenty hours; but I ain't at all. I'd rather not. The little spirits that I ever had, I was bereaved of at Brighton some few years ago, and I think I feel myself the better for it.'
In truth, this was the very Mrs Wickam who had superseded Mrs Richards as the nurse of little Paul, and who considered herself to have gained the loss in question, under the roof of the amiable Pipchin. The excellent and thoughtful old system, hallowed by long prescription, which has usually picked out from the rest of mankind the most dreary and uncomfortable people that could possibly be laid hold of, to act as instructors of youth, finger-posts to the virtues, matrons, monitors, attendants on sick beds, and the like, had established Mrs Wickam in very good business as a nurse, and had led to her serious qualities being particularly commended by an admiring and numerous connexion.
Mrs Wickam, with her eyebrows elevated, and her head on one side, lighted the way upstairs to a clean, neat chamber, opening on another chamber dimly lighted, where there was a bed. In the first room, an old woman sat mechanically staring out at the open window, on the darkness. In the second, stretched upon the bed, lay the shadow of a figure that had spurned the wind and rain, one wintry night; hardly to be recognised now, but by the long black hair that showed so very black against the colourless face, and all the white things about it.
Oh, the strong eyes, and the weak frame! The eyes that turned so eagerly and brightly to the door when Harriet came in; the feeble head that could not raise itself, and moved so slowly round upon its pillow!
'Alice!' said the visitor's mild voice, 'am I late to-night?'
'You always seem late, but are always early.'
Harriet had sat down by the bedside now, and put her hand upon the thin hand lying there.
'You are better?'
Mrs Wickam, standing at the foot of the bed, like a disconsolate spectre, most decidedly and forcibly shook her head to negative this position.
'It matters very little!' said Alice, with a faint smile. 'Better or worse to-day, is but a day's difference - perhaps not so much.'
Mrs Wickam, as a serious character, expressed her approval with a groan; and having made some cold dabs at the bottom of the bedclothes, as feeling for the patient's feet and expecting to find them stony; went clinking among the medicine bottles on the table, as who should say, 'while we are here, let us repeat the mixture as before.'
'No,' said Alice, whispering to her visitor, 'evil courses, and remorse, travel, want, and weather, storm within, and storm without, have worn my life away. It will not last much longer.
She drew the hand up as she spoke, and laid her face against it.
'I lie here, sometimes, thinking I should like to live until I had had a little time to show you how grateful I could be! It is a weakness, and soon passes. Better for you as it is. Better for me!'
How different her hold upon the hand, from what it had been when she took it by the fireside on the bleak winter evening! Scorn, rage, defiance, recklessness, look here! This is the end.
Mrs Wickam having clinked sufficiently among the bottles, now produced the mixture. Mrs Wickam looked hard at her patient in the act of drinking, screwed her mouth up tight, her eyebrows also, and shook her head, expressing that tortures shouldn't make her say it was a hopeless case. Mrs Wickam then sprinkled a little cooling-stuff about the room, with the air of a female grave-digger, who was strewing ashes on ashes, dust on dust - for she was a serious character - and withdrew to partake of certain funeral baked meats downstairs.
'How long is it,' asked Alice, 'since I went to you and told you what I had done, and when you were advised it was too late for anyone to follow?'
'It is a year and more,' said Harriet.
'A year and more,' said Alice, thoughtfully intent upon her face. 'Months upon months since you brought me here!'
Harriet answered 'Yes.'
'Brought me here, by force of gentleness and kindness. Me!' said Alice, shrinking with her face behind her hand, 'and made me human by woman's looks and words, and angel's deeds!'
Harriet bending over her, composed and soothed her. By and bye, Alice lying as before, with the hand against her face, asked to have her mother called.
Harriet called to her more than once, but the old woman was so absorbed looking out at the open window on the darkness, that she did not hear. It was not until Harriet went to her and touched her, that she rose up, and came.
'Mother,' said Alice, taking the hand again, and fixing her lustrous eyes lovingly upon her visitor, while she merely addressed a motion of her finger to the old woman, 'tell her what you know.'
'To-night, my deary?'
'Ay, mother,' answered Alice, faintly and solemnly, 'to-night!'
The old woman, whose wits appeared disorderly by alarm, remorse, or grief, came creeping along the side of the bed, opposite to that on which Harriet sat; and kneeling down, so as to bring her withered face upon a level with the coverlet, and stretching out her hand, so as to touch her daughter's arm, began:
'My handsome gal - '
Heaven, what a cry was that, with which she stopped there, gazing at the poor form lying on the bed!
'Changed, long ago, mother! Withered, long ago,' said Alice, without looking at her. 'Don't grieve for that now.
'My daughter,' faltered the old woman, 'my gal who'll soon get better, and shame 'em all with her good looks.'
Alice smiled mournfully at Harriet, and fondled her hand a little closer, but said nothing.
'Who'll soon get better, I say,' repeated the old woman, menacing the vacant air with her shrivelled fist, 'and who'll shame 'em all with her good looks - she will. I say she will! she shall!' - as if she were in passionate contention with some unseen opponent at the bedside, who contradicted her - 'my daughter has been turned away from, and cast out, but she could boast relationship to proud folks too, if she chose. Ah! To proud folks! There's relationship without your clergy and your wedding rings - they may make it, but they can't break it - and my daughter's well related. Show me Mrs Dombey, and I'll show you my Alice's first cousin.'
Harriet glanced from the old woman to the lustrous eyes intent upon her face, and derived corroboration from them.
'What!' cried the old woman, her nodding head bridling with a ghastly vanity. 'Though I am old and ugly now, - much older by life and habit than years though, - I was once as young as any. Ah! as pretty too, as many! I was a fresh country wench in my time, darling,' stretching out her arm to Harriet, across the bed, 'and looked it, too. Down in my country, Mrs Dombey's father and his brother were the gayest gentlemen and the best-liked that came a visiting from London - they have long been dead, though! Lord, Lord, this long while! The brother, who was my Ally's father, longest of the two.'
She raised her head a little, and peered at her daughter's face; as if from the remembrance of her own youth, she had flown to the remembrance of her child's. Then, suddenly, she laid her face down on the bed, and shut her head up in her hands and arms.
'They were as like,' said the old woman, without looking up, as you could see two brothers, so near an age - there wasn't much more than a year between them, as I recollect - and if you could have seen my gal, as I have seen her once, side by side with the other's daughter, you'd have seen, for all the difference of dress and life, that they were like each other. Oh! is the likeness gone, and is it my gal - only my gal - that's to change so!'
'We shall all change, mother, in our turn,' said Alice.
'Turn!' cried the old woman, 'but why not hers as soon as my gal's! The mother must have changed - she looked as old as me, and full as wrinkled through her paint - but she was handsome. What have I done, I, what have I done worse than her, that only my gal is to lie there fading!' With another of those wild cries, she went running out into the room from which she had come; but immediately, in her uncertain mood, returned, and creeping up to Harriet, said:
'That's what Alice bade me tell you, deary. That's all. I found it out when I began to ask who she was, and all about her, away in Warwickshire there, one summer-time. Such relations was no good to me, then. They wouldn't have owned me, and had nothing to give me. I should have asked 'em, maybe, for a little money, afterwards, if it hadn't been for my Alice; she'd a'most have killed me, if I had, I think She was as proud as t'other in her way,' said the old woman, touching the face of her daughter fearfully, and withdrawing her hand, 'for all she's so quiet now; but she'll shame 'em with her good looks yet. Ha, ha! She'll shame 'em, will my handsome daughter!'
Her laugh, as she retreated, was worse than her cry; worse than the burst of imbecile lamentation in which it ended; worse than the doting air with which she sat down in her old seat, and stared out at the darkness.
The eyes of Alice had all this time been fixed on Harriet, whose hand she had never released. She said now:
'I have felt, lying here, that I should like you to know this. It might explain, I have thought, something that used to help to harden me. I had heard so much, in my wrongdoing, of my neglected duty, that I took up with the belief that duty had not been done to me, and that as the seed was sown, the harvest grew. I somehow made it out that when ladies had bad homes and mothers, they went wrong in their way, too; but that their way was not so foul a one as mine, and they had need to bless God for it.' That is all past. It is like a dream, now, which I cannot quite remember or understand. It has been more and more like a dream, every day, since you began to sit here, and to read to me. I only tell it you, as I can recollect it. Will you read to me a little more?'
Harriet was withdrawing her hand to open the book, when Alice detained it for a moment.
'You will not forget my mother? I forgive her, if I have any cause. I know that she forgives me, and is sorry in her heart. You will not forget her?'
'Never, Alice!'
'A moment yet. Lay your head so, dear, that as you read I may see the words in your kind face.'
Harriet complied and read - read the eternal book for all the weary, and the heavy-laden; for all the wretched, fallen, and neglected of this earth - read the blessed history, in which the blind lame palsied beggar, the criminal, the woman stained with shame, the shunned of all our dainty clay, has each a portion, that no human pride, indifference, or sophistry, through all the ages that this world shall last, can take away, or by the thousandth atom of a grain reduce - read the ministry of Him who, through the round of human life, and all its hopes and griefs, from birth to death, from infancy to age, had sweet compassion for, and interest in, its every scene and stage, its every suffering and sorrow.
'I shall come,' said Harriet, when she shut the book, 'very early in the morning.'
The lustrous eyes, yet fixed upon her face, closed for a moment, then opened; and Alice kissed and blest her.
The same eyes followed her to the door; and in their light, and on the tranquil face, there was a smile when it was closed.
They never turned away. She laid her hand upon her breast, murmuring the sacred name that had been read to her; and life passed from her face, like light removed.
Nothing lay there, any longer, but the ruin of the mortal house on which the rain had beaten, and the black hair that had fluttered in the wintry wind.
海洋在整个一年中周而复始地涨潮和退潮。在整个一年中，时间在暴风雨和阳光中完成它那无休无止的工作。在整个一年中，人类盛衰变化的潮水按照它们规定的路程流动着。在整个一年中，名声赫赫的董贝父子公司跟不幸的意外事件、可疑的谣传、不成功的冒险交易、不吉利的时间，特别是跟它老板的昏头昏脑，进行了生死的斗争；因为他丝毫不愿收缩公司经营的业务，并且听不进一个字的警告：他迎着暴风雨、不顾一切、强迫行驶的船是不牢固的，它经受不住暴风雨的袭击。
一年过去了，这个宏伟的公司倒闭了。
这是夏天的一个下午；在这座城市的教堂中举行婚礼以后差几天就满一年了；人们在交易所里开始嘁嘁喳喳、交头接耳地谈论这场大破产。某个冷漠的、高傲的、在那里众所周知的人不在那里，也没有派代表到那里。第二天，到处都闹哄哄地风传着这个消息：董贝父子公司已经停止营业；这天晚上报纸上发表了一批破产者的名单，这个公司名列首位。
现在这个社会确实十分忙碌，并且有许多话要说。这是个天真地轻信的社会，而且是个被大大地糟蹋了的社会。在这个社会中，没有任何其他种类的破产。在这个社会中，没有显赫的人物广泛地从事宗教、爱国主义、道德、荣誉的腐败的投机买卖。在这个社会中，没有数量值得一提的流通纸币，有些人能靠它们生活得很好，并出于善意许诺大量支付金钱但却口惠而实不至。在这个社会中，不论在什么地方，除了金钱之外，没有任何缺点。这个社会确实是很愤怒的；大家看到这个社会的人们，特别是那些在一个更坏的社会中他们自己可能在卖弄色相和虚伪做作方面是些破产的经营者的人们，现在极为愤怒。
信差珀奇先生，这位听随形势摆弄的人物，又有了个酗酒行乐的新的诱因了！珀奇先生经常醒来的时候发现自己出了名①，这显然是他命中注定的。私奔及随后发生的事件使他名噪一时，人们可以说，他昨天刚刚才转入平静的个人生活，而现在由于公司破产，他又成了比过去任何时候更为重要的人物了。珀奇先生现在坐在外面的办公室中的托架上，注视着会计以及其他人们（他们很快取代了原先几乎所有的职员）的陌生的脸孔；当他从托架上悄悄地下来，只要在外面的院子里，最远在“国王的纹章”酒吧间里一露面，就会被人们问上一大堆问题；在这些问题中几乎肯定地总要包含这样一个有趣的问题：他想喝什么？然后珀奇先生就开始详详细细地谈到他和珀奇太太在鲍尔斯池塘的那些忧虑不安的时刻，那时候他们第一次猜疑“事情变糟糕了”。然后，仿佛公司的死尸就停放在隔壁房间里似的，珀奇先生用很低的对目瞪口呆的听众谈到珀奇太太第一次听到他在睡梦中哼叫道，“一英镑值十二个先令九便士，一英镑值十二个先令九便士！②，那时她就猜疑变糟糕了。他认为，他这种讲梦话的行为追根溯源是由于董贝先生脸部的表情变化给他留下的印象所产生的。然后他告诉他们，他有一次曾经问董贝先生，“先生，我可以冒昧地问一句吗，您的心情是不是不快活？”董贝先生回答道，“我的忠心耿耿的珀奇——不过不，我不会不快活的！”他一边说，一边用手敲敲前额，说，“您走吧，珀奇！”然后，总而言之，这位成为他的地位的牺牲品的珀奇先生就会讲出形形色色的谎话，那些动人的故事把他自己都感动得簌簌落泪；他真心相信，昨天捏造的胡言乱语今天重复一遍，就好像成了真实的了。
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①这里引用英国浪漫主义诗人乔治•戈登•拜伦（GeorgeGordonByron，1788—1924）的一句名言。拜伦在他的长诗《查尔德•哈洛德游记》（ChideHarold’spilgrimage）第一、二两章问世后，立刻名扬四方，因此他在日记里这样写道：“我一个早晨醒来就发现自己成了名。”
②一英镑本应值十二个先令。
珀奇先生在结束这种聚会时，总是温和地说道，“当然，不论他们过去可能有过什么怀疑（仿佛他真有过什么怀疑似的！），他总是不该辜负他的信任的，是不是？他的这种心情给他的感情带来很大的荣誉（听众当中没有一个是债权人）。因此，当他离开他们回到办公室去的时候，自己的良心总是得到了安慰，而且在人们心中总是留下了良好的印象；他就这样回到他的托架中，重新坐下来注视着会计和其他人们的陌生的脸孔，看他们随随便便地翻阅着那些包含着极大机密的帐册；或者他就踮着脚，走进董贝先生的空荡荡的房间，拨拨煤火；或者到门口去透透新鲜空气，跟偶尔到这里来走走的熟人伤心地聊上几句；或者向会计长献上各种小殷勤来取得他的好感，因为珀奇先生指望在董贝父子公司事务结束之后，会计长能帮助他在火灾保险公司里谋求一个信差的职务。
对白格斯托克少校来说，破产是真正的灾难。少校并不是一位富于同情心的人——他的注意力完全集中在乔•白身上——，除了喘气和呼吸困难这些生理方面的表现以外，他在其他方面也不是个易于感情冲动的人。可是他过去在俱乐部里那么夸耀他的朋友董贝，在其他成员面前对他那么大吹大擂，又是那么不断地宣扬他的财富来把他们压下去，因此俱乐部里的这些人（他们毕竟也是人哪！）现在都幸灾乐祸地对少校进行报复；他们装出极为关切的神情，问他，这样可怕的沉重打击他可曾事先预料到，他的朋友董贝又是怎样忍受它的呢。对这些问题，少校脸孔涨成深紫色，回答道，总的说来，我们是生活在一个很坏的世界上；乔稍稍懂得一些，可是他上当受骗了，先生，就像一个婴儿一样上当受骗了；如果当乔•白格斯托克跟董贝到国外去，在法国到处追寻那个流氓的时候，您向他作出这种预言的话，那么乔•白格斯托克是会“呸！呸！”地讥笑您的——我敢向天主发誓，先生，他是会“呸！呸！”地讥笑您的！乔被欺骗了，先生，被愚弄了，被蒙蔽了，被包上眼睛了，可是现在他又完全清醒过来，睁开眼睛，留神看了。先生，如果乔的父亲明天从坟墓里爬起来的话，那么他也不会赊给这位老击剑师一个便士的，而会对他说，他的儿子乔是个很老的军人，不会再受骗了，先生。他现在是个多疑的、乖戾的、古怪的、筋疲力尽的异教徒乔•白，先生；如果退隐到一个桶里居住是符合一位从老学校中训练出来的一位粗鲁和坚强的老少校的尊严的话（他本人曾荣幸地认识已故的肯特郡和约克郡的公爵殿下，并受到过他们的赞扬），那么，可以向上帝发誓！先生，他明天就会坐在帕尔•马尔街的桶里，来显示他对人类的鄙视了！①
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①指希腊犬儒派哲学家戴奥吉尼斯（公无前412？—323年）。犬儒学派是希腊的一个哲学派别，它强调禁欲主义的自我满足，放弃舒适的环境。戴奥吉尼斯是这个学派的典型人物，号召人们回复简朴的自然的生活；据说他有一段时间是住在一个桶里的。帕尔•马尔（PallMall）是伦敦中心的一条街，居住在这里的都是上流社会人士。
少校发表所有的这些谈话以及许多诸如此类的谈话时，总是显示出易患中风症的症状，总是使劲地摇晃着脑袋，激烈地发泄出他的委屈与愤怒，所以俱乐部里年轻的成员们都猜测他曾在他的朋友董贝的公司里投了资，如今遭受了损失；可是那些对乔了解较多的、年纪较老的军人和阅世较深的老滑头们却不相信这一点。倒霉的本地人没有提出过任何意见，但却吃尽了可怕的苦头；不仅在精神方面，每天每个钟头都要受到少校连珠炮似的责骂，而且在身体方面，他也一直处于紧张状态，不是被打痛，就是被撞伤。在董贝父子公司破产以后整整六个星期中，脱靴器和刷子不时像雨点似地落在这位可怜的外国人的身上。
奇克夫人对这场可怕的翻天覆地的变化有三个想法。首先是，她不能理解这件事。第二是，她的哥哥没有作出应有的努力。第三是，在举行第一次晚会的那一天，如果她被邀请参加宴会的话，那么就决不会发生这样的事情，这一点她当时就这样说过。
不论是谁，对这场灾难所发表的意见，都不能阻止它，减轻它或使它加重。人们得知，公司本应当在最有利的情况下结束营业的，但董贝先生却自愿放弃他的一切财产，而不请求任何人施予恩惠。人们得知，恢复公司业务的问题根本谈不上了，因为任何以互相让步为目的的友好协商他都不愿意听取；他过去作为商业界受尊敬的一个人，曾经担任过一些负责的和荣誉的职务，现在他把所有这些职务全都辞退了；据有些人说，他快要死了；据另一些人说，他忧伤得要发疯；据所有的人说，他是个心灰意冷的人。
公司的职员们举行了一个小小的表示哀伤的宴会，宴会上由于有滑稽逗趣的歌唱，所以气氛活跃，进行得很好。在这之后，大家就分道扬镳，各奔四方了。有些人到国外工作；有些人在国内其他公司中任职；有些人突然记起了他们有深厚感情的乡下亲戚，就动身去看望他们；有些人则在报纸上刊登求职广告。在原先的职工中，只有珀奇先生一个人还留下来，坐在托架上看着会计们，或从托架上跳下来，去巴结那位能帮他到火灾保险公司谋求职务的会计长。办公室很快就变得肮脏起来，无人照管。如果这时候董贝先生来到这里的话，那么在院子角落里出售拖鞋和狗颈圈的主要商人心里就会琢磨，现在再像过去那样把食指举到帽檐行礼是否合适了；搬运员把手藏在白围裙下面，发表了规劝人们不要有野心的讲话；在他看来，英文中野心（ambition）与毁灭（perdicBtion）这两个词是押韵的，这不是没有道理。
莫芬先生这位眼睛淡褐色、头发与连鬓胡子稍稍有些斑白的单身汉，也许是公司核心圈的人物中，唯一为降临的灾难由衷地、深切地感到悲痛的人（公司的老板当然除外）。在许多年中，他以应有的恭敬与尊重对待董贝先生，但是他从来不曾掩饰过自己的本性，从来不曾卑鄙地向他谄媚过，或者为了达到个人的目的而纵容过他的欲望。所以他没有因为过去自卑自贱而现在来寻求报复；没有像长久被绷紧的弹簧那样，在放松之后迅速地弹回去一下。他起早贪黑地工作，来查明公司业务中各种复杂或困难的帐目；他总是到场解释需要解释的情况；有时他深夜还坐在以前的房间中研究问题，他把问题研究清楚了就可以不必再向董贝先生本人查问，要求他来作出痛苦的说明；然后他回到伊斯林顿的家中，在睡觉前拿出大提琴，拉出极为忧郁、凄凉的曲调，来使心情平静下来。
有一天晚上，他正在用这音调优美、倾诉哀愁的乐器来安慰自己；因为白天发生的事情使他感到十分沮丧，所以他拉出极为深沉的声调来消除忧伤，这时候房东太太前来通报说，有一位女士来到。（房东太太很幸运是个聋子，她对这些音乐演奏除了觉得像有什么东西在骨头里隆隆作响之外，没有什么别的感觉。）
“她穿着丧服，”她说道。
大提琴立刻停止发声，演奏的人极为亲切、极为小心地把它搁在沙发上，一边做了个手势，请那位女士进来。他立即跟着走出房间，在楼梯上遇到哈里特•卡克。
“您一个人！”他说道，“约翰今天早上到这里来过！出了什么事了，我亲爱的？可是不，”他补充说道，“您的脸容说明了完全不同的情况。”
“这么说，我担心，您在我脸上看到的是自私感情的流露了，”她回答道。
“这是令人很愉快的感情，”他说道，“如果是自私的感情的话，那么也是值得在您身上看到的一桩新奇事儿。但是我不相信这一点。”
这时候他已给她搬过去一张椅子，并在对面坐了下来；大提琴舒适地躺在他们中间的沙发上。
“您不要因为我单独来或约翰没有告诉您我要来而感到惊奇，”哈里特说道，“当我把我到这里来的原因告诉您以后，您就会相信我的。我现在就告诉您好吗？”
“再好不过了。”
“您不忙吗？”
他指指躺在沙发上的大提琴，说道，“我整天都工作。证人就在这里。我向它倾吐了我的一切烦恼。我真但愿除了我个人的忧虑外，我没有别的忧虑可以向它倾吐了。”
“公司是不是倒闭了？”哈里特认真地问道。
“完全倒闭了。”
“永远不能再恢复了吗？”
“永远不能了。”
当她的嘴唇把这几个字不出声地重复说了一遍的时候，她脸上明朗的表情并没有笼罩上阴影。他似乎无意识地带几分惊奇地注意到这一点，然后重新说道：
“永远不能了。您记得我以前跟您说过的话吗？长期来，一直不可能说服他，不可能跟他讲理，有时甚至不可能接近他。最糟糕的事情已经发生了。公司已经垮台了，永远也不能振兴了。”
“董贝先生本人是不是也毁了？”
“毁了。”
“他没有留下私人财产吗？什么也没留下吗？”
她中包含的某种焦急的情绪，她脸上露出的几乎是喜洋洋的表情，似乎使他愈来愈感到惊奇，同时也使他感到失望，这种表情与他自己的情绪是很不一致的。他用一只手的指头敲着桌子，一边若有所思地望着她；沉默了一会儿之后，他摇摇头，说道：
“董贝先生有多少财产，我并不确切地知道；虽然它无疑是很大的，但他的债务也很大。他是个高尚、正直的人。任何人处在他的地位都能跟与他有交易的人达成协议来挽救自己，这种协议会使对方增加微小的、几乎是觉察不到的损失，同时给他留下一笔钱，让他可以生活。许多人处在他的地位都会这样做的。可是他却决心偿付一切，直到最后一个法新。他本人说，他的资产将能抵偿或接近抵偿公司的债务，任何人都不会遭到很大损失。啊，哈里特小姐，我们不妨经常记住：道德超过了应有的限度有时就成了罪恶。他的这个决定也充分表现了他的高傲。”
她听他说话的时候，表情很少变化，或者完全没有变化。她的注意力不集中，这说明她心中正在想着别的什么事情。当他停止讲话的时候，她急忙问他道：
“您最近看到他吗？”
“谁也没有看到他。当这场业务危机使他必须从家里走出来的时候，他才走出来，然后他又回到家里，闭门不出，也不会见任何人。他给我写过一封信，感谢我过去的服务，那些赞扬的话有些过分，不是我所应得的；他在信中同时向我告别。在那些光景美好的年月中我跟他就从来没有很多来往，现在我就更加审慎，不想随意去打扰他；但是我曾经尝试这样做过。我曾经给他写信，到他那里向他提出请求。但是所有这一切全是徒劳。”
他注视着她，好像希望她能比刚才表示出更多的关心；他说得庄重而又富于感情，仿佛想要给她加深印象似的；但是她的表情没有改变。
“唔，哈里特小姐，”他露出失望的神态，说道，“谈这些不合适。您不是到这里来听这些话的。您心中有别的更愉快的话题。让我们转到这些话题上来，这样我们可以谈得融洽些。就这样吧！”
“不，我的话题和您的相同，”哈里特直率地、迅速地表示出惊奇，回答道，“难道能不相同吗？约翰和我最近对这些巨大的变化思考得很多，谈论得很多，难道这不是很自然的吗？约翰为董贝先生服务了这么多年，您知道是按照什么条件服务的，现在，董贝先生，就像您所说的，破产了，而我们却很有钱了。”
她的脸善良、真诚，莫芬先生这位眼睛淡褐色的单身汉自从第一次看到它以来一直喜欢它；可是现在当它露出极端喜悦的神色时，它却不能像过去那样使他喜欢了。
“我不需要提醒您，”哈里特说道，一边眼睛向黑色的衣服低垂着，“我们的境况是通过什么途径发生变化的。您没有忘记，我的弟弟詹姆士在那个可怕的日子去世以后，没有留下遗嘱，除了我们之外他没有别的亲属。”
她的脸虽然比片刻之前苍白、忧郁，可是他却比刚才更喜欢看到它。他似乎呼吸得更为轻松愉快了。
“您知道我们的历史，”她说道，“我两个弟弟的历史，它们都跟您刚才那么真诚地谈到的那位倒霉的、不幸的先生联系着。您知道，我们的需求——约翰的和我的——是多么少，我们在这许多年中一起度过了这样一种生活之后，我们多么不需要用什么钱；由于您的好意帮助，他现在的收入是足够我们两人用的了。您没有料想到我到这里来想请您帮什么忙吧？”
“我不知道。一分钟以前，我好像料想到了。现在我觉得，我没有料想到。”
“关于我死去的弟弟，我没有什么话要说。如果死者知道我们所做的事情的话——可是您了解我。关于我活着的弟弟，我可以说很多的话。可是我需要补充的就是，他想尽他的责任——我就是为了这个缘故才到这里来请求您给予必不可少的帮助的；除非这件事完成了，否则他是不能安宁的。”
她又抬起眼睛，在注视着她的人的眼睛中，她脸上露出的兴高采烈的神色开始显得漂亮起来了。
“亲爱的先生，”她继续说道，“这件事必须很谨慎很秘密地做。您的经验与知识将会向您指出完成这件事的方法。也许可以使董贝先生相信，从他遭受严重损失的财产中还意外地保存下来一笔钱；或者那些跟他从事大宗交易的人们当中，有人由于崇敬他正直、高尚的品格，自愿捐献出一笔款项；或者这是过去无法收回的一笔旧欠款归还来了。做这件事一定有很多方法。我知道您会选择最好的方法。我到这里来请求您的是，您将以您特有的那种善良、慷慨、慎重的方式为我们做这件事。您永远也别向约翰提到这件事。他认为，他的幸福主要在于他秘密地尽了他的责任，不被人知道，不受到赞扬。他遗产中很小的一部分可以留给我们，其余部分的利息由董贝先生在他的余年中领取。我请求您忠实地为我们保守秘密；不过我相信您会这样做的；从现在起，即使是在您和我之间，也不要悄悄地提起它，而让它留在我们的记忆中，因为我有新的理由来感谢上天，并由于有这样一位弟弟而感到高兴和自豪。”
当天使们看到一位忏悔的罪人进入天国，列身在九十九个正直的人们中间的时候，他们脸上才能出现这种兴高采烈的神情。她眼睛里充满了喜悦的泪水，这并没有使这种神情暗淡失色，而是使它变得更加明亮。
“我亲爱的哈里特，”莫芬先生沉默了一会儿，说道，“我对这没有思想准备。您的意思是：您希望由您本人继承的那份遗产也跟约翰的那份一样用于你们善良的目的，我这样理解对吗？”
“对，对，”她回答道，“在这么长久的时间中我们分享一切，并有着共同的忧虑、希望与目的；难道我能容忍把我排除在这件事情之外吗？难道我不能要求自始至终成为我弟弟的伙伴与助手吗？”
“上天不容许我有不同意见！”他回答道。
“这么说，我们可以依赖您友好的帮助了吗？”她说道。
“我知道，我们可以了！”
“如果我不能从心灵里向你们保证我会这样做的话，那么我就不是一个我希望自己能成为那样的人，或我愿意相信我就是那样的人，而是一个坏一些的人了。你们可以毫无保留地指望我帮助你们。我以荣誉发誓，我一定为你们保守秘密。
如果到头来发现我的担心没有错，董贝先生由于一意孤行（看来没有什么办法能影响他改变这一点），落到一贫如洗的地步的话，那么我将帮助你们完成您和约翰共同想出的计划。”
她向他伸出手，并露出热诚的、快乐的脸容向他表示感谢。
“哈里特，”他把她的手留在自己手中，说道，“现在跟您讲你们所能作出牺牲的价值（尤其是讲仅仅金钱方面的牺牲的价值）是无益和放肆的；呼吁你们重新考虑你们的决定或对它规定一个狭窄的幅度，我觉得也同样是荒谬的。我没有权利让我这个软弱的人在这件事情上插手，来毁坏一个伟大历史的伟大结局。可是我有一切权利恭恭敬敬地做好你们信托给我的事情，而且十分高兴，因为它来自一个比我的可怜的世俗的知识更高尚、更纯洁的灵感的源泉。我所要说的只是这一点：我是您的忠实的仆人；我宁愿成为这样的仆人和您所选择的朋友，而不愿意成为世界上除您本人之外的任何其他人。”
她又热诚地谢谢他，祝他晚安。
“您要回家吗？”他说道。“让我陪您一道走。”
“不，今天您别陪我。我现在不回家；我要单独去拜访一个人。您明天来好吗？”
“好，好，”他说道，“我明天来。同时我将考虑一下这件事，我们怎样进行最好。也许•您•也•将•会考虑这件事，亲爱的哈里特，同时，——同时，——请您也稍稍考虑一下与这事有关的我。”
他陪她走到门口，她的一辆轿式马车正在那里等着她。当马车离开以后，他回到楼上来的时候，如果房东太太的耳朵不聋的话，那么她就能听到他喃喃自语地说道，我们都是受习惯支配的奴隶，当一个老单身汉是一个使人伤心的习惯。
大提琴躺在两张椅子中间的沙发上；他把它拿起来，没有移开空着的椅子，在原先坐过的那张椅子上坐下来用低沉的演奏着，同时望着另一张空着的椅子慢悠悠地摇晃着脑袋，时间很久很久。他通过乐器表露出的感情起初虽然非常感伤动人，温柔多情，但跟他看着那张空着的椅子时脸上表露出的感情相比，那就算不了什么了；他脸上表露出的感情十分诚挚，他不得不采用卡特尔船长的办法，不止一次用袖子去擦脸。但是大提琴伴随着他的心情，渐渐地转到了《和睦的铁匠》①这支音调优美的曲子上；他把它拉了一次又一次，直到后来他红润与安祥的脸孔就像一位真正的铁匠的铁砧上的真正的金属一样闪闪发光了。总而言之，大提琴和那张空椅子一直成为他单身生活的伴侣，直到将近午夜。当他坐下吃晚饭的时候，大提琴竖立在沙发的一角，似乎怀着难以形容的智慧，通过它那钩形的眼睛，向那张空椅子递送着秋波，它那挺凸的肚子里充满了一大群和睦的铁匠的和睦气氛。
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①《和睦的铁匠》（HarmoniousBlacksmith）是英籍德国作曲家亨德尔（GeorgeFridericHandel，1685—1759年）所写的一个曲子。
哈里特坐上她租来的轿式马车，离开莫芬先生的家以后，马车夫抄了一条对他显然并不陌生的路线，穿过了好多曲曲弯弯的偏僻小路，再通过近郊的一段路，最后到达一个空旷的地方；那里在一些花园中间，有几间朴素的、小小的旧房屋，他在其中的一间房屋的花园门口停住，哈里特下了车。
她轻轻地拉了一下铃，应声前来的是一位神色忧伤的女人；她脸色苍白，眉毛竖起，头低垂在一边；她看到哈里特，行了个屈膝礼，领着她穿过花园，走到房屋跟前。
“今天夜里您的病人怎样了，护士？”哈里特问道。
“我担心不好了，小姐。啊，有时候我见到她多叫我联想起我舅舅的贝特西•简！”脸色苍白的女人怀着悲喜交集的心情回答道。
“在哪方面？”哈里特问道。
“在所有方面，小姐，”那一位回答道，“只有一点不同，她是个成年人，而贝特西•简走到死神的门口时，还只是个孩子。”
“可是您曾告诉我她痊愈了，”哈里特温柔地说道，“所以就更有理由怀着希望了，威肯姆太太。”
“啊，小姐，对于那些情绪快乐，能够怀有希望的人来说，希望是一件很好的事情！”威肯姆太太摇摇头，说道，“我自己的情绪不好，产生不出希望，但我对这没有任何怨恨。我羡慕那些享有这种幸福的人们！”
“您应当设法快活一些，”哈里特说道。
“非常感谢您，小姐，”威肯姆太太愁眉苦脸地说道，“如果我是个性格快活的人，那么现在这种寂寞的状况——请原谅我说得这么直率——，也会使这点快活在二十四小时内从我的心里完全失去；可是我根本不是这种性格的人。我宁肯这样。我以前曾经有过一点快乐的情绪，它已经在几年以前在布赖顿失去了，我觉得这对我反倒更好。”
确实，这就是接替理查兹大嫂给小保罗当保姆的威肯姆大嫂。她认为，在皮普钦太太家里发生了那桩不幸事件之后，她本人倒是因祸得福。这个非常美妙和考虑周到的古老制度，由于长期承袭的旧俗惯例，已成为神圣不可侵犯；它通常总是把它所能找到的那些最忧郁寡欢、令人不快的人们挑选出来充当青年导师、传道士、女舍监、教务助理生、病床护士以及诸如此类的人物；正由于这个缘故，威肯姆太太就得到了护士这个很好的职务，她的品德受到了很多钦佩她的亲戚们的推荐。
威肯姆太太扬起眉毛，头歪向一边，用蜡烛照着道路，上了楼，走到一间干净、整洁的房间里；这间房间通向另一间灯光幽暗、里面摆有一张床的房间。在第一个房间里，一位老太婆坐在打开的窗子旁边，呆呆地向黑漆漆的窗外凝视着。在另一个房间里，有一个人的身形，伸开四肢，躺在床上；这个人曾经不怕风雨，在冬夜里走路，现在却只能凭她那长长的黑发才能辨认出来；在她那毫无血色的脸孔和周围所有白色物体的衬托下，那头发显得更黑了。
啊，那双炯炯有神的眼睛和那个衰弱的身躯！当哈里特走进去的时候，那双眼睛多么热切、多么明亮地转向了门口，射出了多么明亮的光芒；那个有气无力、抬不起来的脑袋是多么缓慢地在枕头上转过去啊！
“艾丽斯！”客人用温柔的说道，“我今天是不是来晚了？”
“虽然你总是来得早早的，但我总觉得您似乎来晚了。”
Chapter 59
Retribution
Changes have come again upon the great house in the long dull street, once the scene of Florence's childhood and loneliness. It is a great house still, proof against wind and weather, without breaches in the roof, or shattered windows, or dilapidated walls; but it is a ruin none the less, and the rats fly from it.
Mr Towlinson and company are, at first, incredulous in respect of the shapeless rumours that they hear. Cook says our people's credit ain't so easy shook as that comes to, thank God; and Mr Towlinson expects to hear it reported next, that the Bank of England's a-going to break, or the jewels in the Tower to be sold up. But, next come the Gazette, and Mr Perch; and Mr Perch brings Mrs Perch to talk it over in the kitchen, and to spend a pleasant evening.
As soon as there is no doubt about it, Mr Towlinson's main anxiety is that the failure should be a good round one - not less than a hundred thousand pound. Mr Perch don't think himself that a hundred thousand pound will nearly cover it. The women, led by Mrs Perch and Cook, often repeat 'a hun-dred thou-sand pound!' with awful satisfaction - as if handling the words were like handling the money; and the housemaid, who has her eye on Mr Towlinson, wishes she had only a hundredth part of the sum to bestow on the man of her choice. Mr Towlinson, still mindful of his old wrong, opines that a foreigner would hardly know what to do with so much money, unless he spent it on his whiskers; which bitter sarcasm causes the housemaid to withdraw in tears.
But not to remain long absent; for Cook, who has the reputation of being extremely good-hearted, says, whatever they do, let 'em stand by one another now, Towlinson, for there's no telling how soon they may be divided. They have been in that house (says Cook) through a funeral, a wedding, and a running-away; and let it not be said that they couldn't agree among themselves at such a time as the present. Mrs Perch is immensely affected by this moving address, and openly remarks that Cook is an angel. Mr Towlinson replies to Cook, far be it from him to stand in the way of that good feeling which he could wish to see; and adjourning in quest of the housemaid, and presently returning with that young lady on his arm, informs the kitchen that foreigners is only his fun, and that him and Anne have now resolved to take one another for better for worse, and to settle in Oxford Market in the general greengrocery and herb and leech line, where your kind favours is particular requested. This announcement is received with acclamation; and Mrs Perch, projecting her soul into futurity, says, 'girls,' in Cook's ear, in a solemn whisper.
Misfortune in the family without feasting, in these lower regions, couldn't be. Therefore Cook tosses up a hot dish or two for supper, and Mr Towlinson compounds a lobster salad to be devoted to the same hospitable purpose. Even Mrs Pipchin, agitated by the occasion, rings her bell, and sends down word that she requests to have that little bit of sweetbread that was left, warmed up for her supper, and sent to her on a tray with about a quarter of a tumbler-full of mulled sherry; for she feels poorly.
There is a little talk about Mr Dombey, but very little. It is chiefly speculation as to how long he has known that this was going to happen. Cook says shrewdly, 'Oh a long time, bless you! Take your oath of that.' And reference being made to Mr Perch, he confirms her view of the case. Somebody wonders what he'll do, and whether he'll go out in any situation. Mr Towlinson thinks not, and hints at a refuge in one of them genteel almshouses of the better kind. 'Ah, where he'll have his little garden, you know,' says Cook plaintively, 'and bring up sweet peas in the spring.' 'Exactly so,' says Mr Towlinson, 'and be one of the Brethren of something or another.' 'We are all brethren,' says Mrs Perch, in a pause of her drink. 'Except the sisters,' says Mr Perch. 'How are the mighty fallen!' remarks Cook. 'Pride shall have a fall, and it always was and will be so!' observes the housemaid.
It is wonderful how good they feel, in making these reflections; and what a Christian unanimity they are sensible of, in bearing the common shock with resignation. There is only one interruption to this excellent state of mind, which is occasioned by a young kitchen-maid of inferior rank - in black stockings - who, having sat with her mouth open for a long time, unexpectedly discharges from it words to this effect, 'Suppose the wages shouldn't be paid!' The company sit for a moment speechless; but Cook recovering first, turns upon the young woman, and requests to know how she dares insult the family, whose bread she eats, by such a dishonest supposition, and whether she thinks that anybody, with a scrap of honour left, could deprive poor servants of their pittance? 'Because if that is your religious feelings, Mary Daws,' says Cook warmly, 'I don't know where you mean to go to.
Mr Towlinson don't know either; nor anybody; and the young kitchen-maid, appearing not to know exactly, herself, and scouted by the general voice, is covered with confusion, as with a garment.
After a few days, strange people begin to call at the house, and to make appointments with one another in the dining-room, as if they lived there. Especially, there is a gentleman, of a Mosaic Arabian cast of countenance, with a very massive watch-guard, who whistles in the drawing-room, and, while he is waiting for the other gentleman, who always has pen and ink in his pocket, asks Mr Towlinson (by the easy name of 'Old Cock,') if he happens to know what the figure of them crimson and gold hangings might have been, when new bought. The callers and appointments in the dining-room become more numerous every day, and every gentleman seems to have pen and ink in his pocket, and to have some occasion to use it. At last it is said that there is going to be a Sale; and then more people arrive, with pen and ink in their pockets, commanding a detachment of men with carpet caps, who immediately begin to pull up the carpets, and knock the furniture about, and to print off thousands of impressions of their shoes upon the hall and staircase.
The council downstairs are in full conclave all this time, and, having nothing to do, perform perfect feats of eating. At length, they are one day summoned in a body to Mrs Pipchin's room, and thus addressed by the fair Peruvian:
'Your master's in difficulties,' says Mrs Pipchin, tartly. 'You know that, I suppose?'
Mr Towlinson, as spokesman, admits a general knowledge of the fact.
'And you're all on the look-out for yourselves, I warrant you, says Mrs Pipchin, shaking her head at them.
A shrill voice from the rear exclaims, 'No more than yourself!'
'That's your opinion, Mrs Impudence, is it?' says the ireful Pipchin, looking with a fiery eye over the intermediate heads.
'Yes, Mrs Pipchin, it is,' replies Cook, advancing. 'And what then, pray?'
'Why, then you may go as soon as you like,' says Mrs Pipchin. 'The sooner the better; and I hope I shall never see your face again.'
With this the doughty Pipchin produces a canvas bag; and tells her wages out to that day, and a month beyond it; and clutches the money tight, until a receipt for the same is duly signed, to the last upstroke; when she grudgingly lets it go. This form of proceeding Mrs Pipchin repeats with every member of the household, until all are paid.
'Now those that choose, can go about their business,' says Mrs Pipchin, 'and those that choose can stay here on board wages for a week or so, and make themselves useful. Except,' says the inflammable Pipchin, 'that slut of a cook, who'll go immediately.'
'That,' says Cook, 'she certainly will! I wish you good day, Mrs Pipchin, and sincerely wish I could compliment you on the sweetness of your appearance!'
'Get along with you,' says Mrs Pipchin, stamping her foot.
Cook sails off with an air of beneficent dignity, highly exasperating to Mrs Pipchin, and is shortly joined below stairs by the rest of the confederation.
Mr Towlinson then says that, in the first place, he would beg to propose a little snack of something to eat; and over that snack would desire to offer a suggestion which he thinks will meet the position in which they find themselves. The refreshment being produced, and very heartily partaken of, Mr Towlinson's suggestion is, in effect, that Cook is going, and that if we are not true to ourselves, nobody will be true to us. That they have lived in that house a long time, and exerted themselves very much to be sociable together. (At this, Cook says, with emotion, 'Hear, hear!' and Mrs Perch, who is there again, and full to the throat, sheds tears.) And that he thinks, at the present time, the feeling ought to be 'Go one, go all!' The housemaid is much affected by this generous sentiment, and warmly seconds it. Cook says she feels it's right, and only hopes it's not done as a compliment to her, but from a sense of duty. Mr Towlinson replies, from a sense of duty; and that now he is driven to express his opinions, he will openly say, that he does not think it over-respectable to remain in a house where Sales and such-like are carrying forwards. The housemaid is sure of it; and relates, in confirmation, that a strange man, in a carpet cap, offered, this very morning, to kiss her on the stairs. Hereupon, Mr Towlinson is starting from his chair, to seek and 'smash' the offender; when he is laid hold on by the ladies, who beseech him to calm himself, and to reflect that it is easier and wiser to leave the scene of such indecencies at once. Mrs Perch, presenting the case in a new light, even shows that delicacy towards Mr Dombey, shut up in his own rooms, imperatively demands precipitate retreat. 'For what,' says the good woman, 'must his feelings be, if he was to come upon any of the poor servants that he once deceived into thinking him immensely rich!' Cook is so struck by this moral consideration, that Mrs Perch improves it with several pious axioms, original and selected. It becomes a clear case that they must all go. Boxes are packed, cabs fetched, and at dusk that evening there is not one member of the party left.
The house stands, large and weather-proof, in the long dull street; but it is a ruin, and the rats fly from it.
The men in the carpet caps go on tumbling the furniture about; and the gentlemen with the pens and ink make out inventories of it, and sit upon pieces of furniture never made to be sat upon, and eat bread and cheese from the public-house on other pieces of furniture never made to be eaten on, and seem to have a delight in appropriating precious articles to strange uses. Chaotic combinations of furniture also take place. Mattresses and bedding appear in the dining-room; the glass and china get into the conservatory; the great dinner service is set out in heaps on the long divan in the large drawing-room; and the stair-wires, made into fasces, decorate the marble chimneypieces. Finally, a rug, with a printed bill upon it, is hung out from the balcony; and a similar appendage graces either side of the hall door.
Then, all day long, there is a retinue of mouldy gigs and chaise-carts in the street; and herds of shabby vampires, Jew and Christian, over-run the house, sounding the plate-glass minors with their knuckles, striking discordant octaves on the Grand Piano, drawing wet forefingers over the pictures, breathing on the blades of the best dinner-knives, punching the squabs of chairs and sofas with their dirty fists, touzling the feather beds, opening and shutting all the drawers, balancing the silver spoons and forks, looking into the very threads of the drapery and linen, and disparaging everything. There is not a secret place in the whole house. Fluffy and snuffy strangers stare into the kitchen-range as curiously as into the attic clothes-press. Stout men with napless hats on, look out of the bedroom windows, and cut jokes with friends in the street. Quiet, calculating spirits withdraw into the dressing-rooms with catalogues, and make marginal notes thereon, with stumps of pencils. Two brokers invade the very fire-escape, and take a panoramic survey of the neighbourhood from the top of the house. The swarm and buzz, and going up and down, endure for days. The Capital Modern Household Furniture, &c., is on view.
Then there is a palisade of tables made in the best drawing-room; and on the capital, french-polished, extending, telescopic range of Spanish mahogany dining-tables with turned legs, the pulpit of the Auctioneer is erected; and the herds of shabby vampires, Jew and Christian, the strangers fluffy and snuffy, and the stout men with the napless hats, congregate about it and sit upon everything within reach, mantel-pieces included, and begin to bid. Hot, humming, and dusty are the rooms all day; and - high above the heat, hum, and dust - the head and shoulders, voice and hammer, of the Auctioneer, are ever at work. The men in the carpet caps get flustered and vicious with tumbling the Lots about, and still the Lots are going, going, gone; still coming on. Sometimes there is joking and a general roar. This lasts all day and three days following. The Capital Modern Household Furniture, &c., is on sale.
Then the mouldy gigs and chaise-carts reappear; and with them come spring-vans and waggons, and an army of porters with knots. All day long, the men with carpet caps are screwing at screw-drivers and bed-winches, or staggering by the dozen together on the staircase under heavy burdens, or upheaving perfect rocks of Spanish mahogany, best rose-wood, or plate-glass, into the gigs and chaise-carts, vans and waggons. All sorts of vehicles of burden are in attendance, from a tilted waggon to a wheelbarrow. Poor Paul's little bedstead is carried off in a donkey-tandem. For nearly a whole week, the Capital Modern Household Furniture, & c., is in course of removal.
At last it is all gone. Nothing is left about the house but scattered leaves of catalogues, littered scraps of straw and hay, and a battery of pewter pots behind the hall-door. The men with the carpet-caps gather up their screw-drivers and bed-winches into bags, shoulder them, and walk off. One of the pen-and-ink gentlemen goes over the house as a last attention; sticking up bills in the windows respecting the lease of this desirable family mansion, and shutting the shutters. At length he follows the men with the carpet caps. None of the invaders remain. The house is a ruin, and the rats fly from it.
Mrs Pipchin's apartments, together with those locked rooms on the ground-floor where the window-blinds are drawn down close, have been spared the general devastation. Mrs Pipchin has remained austere and stony during the proceedings, in her own room; or has occasionally looked in at the sale to see what the goods are fetching, and to bid for one particular easy chair. Mrs Pipchin has been the highest bidder for the easy chair, and sits upon her property when Mrs Chick comes to see her.
'How is my brother, Mrs Pipchin?' says Mrs Chick.
'I don't know any more than the deuce,' says Mrs Pipchin. 'He never does me the honour to speak to me. He has his meat and drink put in the next room to his own; and what he takes, he comes out and takes when there's nobody there. It's no use asking me. I know no more about him than the man in the south who burnt his mouth by eating cold plum porridge."
This the acrimonious Pipchin says with a flounce.
'But good gracious me!' cries Mrs Chick blandly. 'How long is this to last! If my brother will not make an effort, Mrs Pipchin, what is to become of him? I am sure I should have thought he had seen enough of the consequences of not making an effort, by this time, to be warned against that fatal error.'
'Hoity toity!' says Mrs Pipchin, rubbing her nose. 'There's a great fuss, I think, about it. It ain't so wonderful a case. People have had misfortunes before now, and been obliged to part with their furniture. I'm sure I have!'
'My brother,' pursues Mrs Chick profoundly, 'is so peculiar - so strange a man. He is the most peculiar man I ever saw. Would anyone believe that when he received news of the marriage and emigration of that unnatural child - it's a comfort to me, now, to remember that I always said there was something extraordinary about that child: but nobody minds me - would anybody believe, I say, that he should then turn round upon me and say he had supposed, from my manner, that she had come to my house? Why, my gracious! And would anybody believe that when I merely say to him, "Paul, I may be very foolish, and I have no doubt I am, but I cannot understand how your affairs can have got into this state," he should actually fly at me, and request that I will come to see him no more until he asks me! Why, my goodness!'
'Ah'!' says Mrs Pipchin. 'It's a pity he hadn't a little more to do with mines. They'd have tried his temper for him.'
'And what,' resumes Mrs Chick, quite regardless of Mrs Pipchin's observations, 'is it to end in? That's what I want to know. What does my brother mean to do? He must do something. It's of no use remaining shut up in his own rooms. Business won't come to him. No. He must go to it. Then why don't he go? He knows where to go, I suppose, having been a man of business all his life. Very good. Then why not go there?'
Mrs Chick, after forging this powerful chain of reasoning, remains silent for a minute to admire it.
'Besides,' says the discreet lady, with an argumentative air, 'who ever heard of such obstinacy as his staying shut up here through all these dreadful disagreeables? It's not as if there was no place for him to go to. Of course he could have come to our house. He knows he is at home there, I suppose? Mr Chick has perfectly bored about it, and I said with my own lips, "Why surely, Paul, you don't imagine that because your affairs have got into this state, you are the less at home to such near relatives as ourselves? You don't imagine that we are like the rest of the world?" But no; here he stays all through, and here he is. Why, good gracious me, suppose the house was to be let! What would he do then? He couldn't remain here then. If he attempted to do so, there would be an ejectment, an action for Doe, and all sorts of things; and then he must go. Then why not go at first instead of at last? And that brings me back to what I said just now, and I naturally ask what is to be the end of it?'
'I know what's to be the end of it, as far as I am concerned,' replies Mrs Pipchin, 'and that's enough for me. I'm going to take myself off in a jiffy.'
'In a which, Mrs Pipchin,' says Mrs Chick.
'In a jiffy,' retorts Mrs Pipchin sharply.
'Ah, well! really I can't blame you, Mrs Pipchin,' says Mrs Chick, with frankness.
'It would be pretty much the same to me, if you could,' replies the sardonic Pipchin. 'At any rate I'm going. I can't stop here. I should be dead in a week. I had to cook my own pork chop yesterday, and I'm not used to it. My constitution will be giving way next. Besides, I had a very fair connexion at Brighton when I came here - little Pankey's folks alone were worth a good eighty pounds a-year to me - and I can't afford to throw it away. I've written to my niece, and she expects me by this time.'
'Have you spoken to my brother?' inquires Mrs Chick
'Oh, yes, it's very easy to say speak to him,' retorts Mrs Pipchin. 'How is it done? I called out to him yesterday, that I was no use here, and that he had better let me send for Mrs Richards. He grunted something or other that meant yes, and I sent. Grunt indeed! If he had been Mr Pipchin, he'd have had some reason to grunt. Yah! I've no patience with it!'
Here this exemplary female, who has pumped up so much fortitude and virtue from the depths of the Peruvian mines, rises from her cushioned property to see Mrs Chick to the door. Mrs Chick, deploring to the last the peculiar character of her brother, noiselessly retires, much occupied with her own sagacity and clearness of head.
In the dusk of the evening Mr Toodle, being off duty, arrives with Polly and a box, and leaves them, with a sounding kiss, in the hall of the empty house, the retired character of which affects Mr Toodle's spirits strongly.
'I tell you what, Polly, me dear,' says Mr Toodle, 'being now an ingine-driver, and well to do in the world, I shouldn't allow of your coming here, to be made dull-like, if it warn't for favours past. But favours past, Polly, is never to be forgot. To them which is in adversity, besides, your face is a cord'l. So let's have another kiss on it, my dear. You wish no better than to do a right act, I know; and my views is, that it's right and dutiful to do this. Good-night, Polly!'
Mrs Pipchin by this time looms dark in her black bombazeen skirts, black bonnet, and shawl; and has her personal property packed up; and has her chair (late a favourite chair of Mr Dombey's and the dead bargain of the sale) ready near the street door; and is only waiting for a fly-van, going to-night to Brighton on private service, which is to call for her, by private contract, and convey her home.
Presently it comes. Mrs Pipchin's wardrobe being handed in and stowed away, Mrs Pipchin's chair is next handed in, and placed in a convenient corner among certain trusses of hay; it being the intention of the amiable woman to occupy the chair during her journey. Mrs Pipchin herself is next handed in, and grimly takes her seat. There is a snaky gleam in her hard grey eye, as of anticipated rounds of buttered toast, relays of hot chops, worryings and quellings of young children, sharp snappings at poor Berry, and all the other delights of her Ogress's castle. Mrs Pipchin almost laughs as the fly-van drives off, and she composes her black bombazeen skirts, and settles herself among the cushions of her easy chair.
The house is such a ruin that the rats have fled, and there is not one left.
But Polly, though alone in the deserted mansion - for there is no companionship in the shut-up rooms in which its late master hides his head - is not alone long. It is night; and she is sitting at work in the housekeeper's room, trying to forget what a lonely house it is, and what a history belongs to it; when there is a knock at the hall door, as loud sounding as any knock can be, striking into such an empty place. Opening it, she returns across the echoing hall, accompanied by a female figure in a close black bonnet. It is Miss Tox, and Miss Tox's eyes are red.
'Oh, Polly,' says Miss Tox, 'when I looked in to have a little lesson with the children just now, I got the message that you left for me; and as soon as I could recover my spirits at all, I came on after you. Is there no one here but you?'
'Ah! not a soul,' says Polly.
'Have you seen him?' whispers Miss Tox.
'Bless you,' returns Polly, 'no; he has not been seen this many a day. They tell me he never leaves his room.'
'Is he said to be ill?' inquires Miss Tox.
'No, Ma'am, not that I know of,' returns Polly, 'except in his mind. He must be very bad there, poor gentleman!'
Miss Tox's sympathy is such that she can scarcely speak. She is no chicken, but she has not grown tough with age and celibacy. Her heart is very tender, her compassion very genuine, her homage very real. Beneath the locket with the fishy eye in it, Miss Tox bears better qualities than many a less whimsical outside; such qualities as will outlive, by many courses of the sun, the best outsides and brightest husks that fall in the harvest of the great reaper.
It is long before Miss Tox goes away, and before Polly, with a candle flaring on the blank stairs, looks after her, for company, down the street, and feels unwilling to go back into the dreary house, and jar its emptiness with the heavy fastenings of the door, and glide away to bed. But all this Polly does; and in the morning sets in one of those darkened rooms such matters as she has been advised to prepare, and then retires and enters them no more until next morning at the same hour. There are bells there, but they never ring; and though she can sometimes hear a footfall going to and fro, it never comes out.
Miss Tox returns early in the day. It then begins to be Miss Tox's occupation to prepare little dainties - or what are such to her - to be carried into these rooms next morning. She derives so much satisfaction from the pursuit, that she enters on it regularly from that time; and brings daily in her little basket, various choice condiments selected from the scanty stores of the deceased owner of the powdered head and pigtail. She likewise brings, in sheets of curl-paper, morsels of cold meats, tongues of sheep, halves of fowls, for her own dinner; and sharing these collations with Polly, passes the greater part of her time in the ruined house that the rats have fled from: hiding, in a fright at every sound, stealing in and out like a criminal; only desiring to be true to the fallen object of her admiration, unknown to him, unknown to all the world but one poor simple woman.
The Major knows it; but no one is the wiser for that, though the Major is much the merrier. The Major, in a fit of curiosity, has charged the Native to watch the house sometimes, and find out what becomes of Dombey. The Native has reported Miss Tox's fidelity, and the Major has nearly choked himself dead with laughter. He is permanently bluer from that hour, and constantly wheezes to himself, his lobster eyes starting out of his head, 'Damme, Sir, the woman's a born idiot!'
And the ruined man. How does he pass the hours, alone?
'Let him remember it in that room, years to come!' He did remember it. It was heavy on his mind now; heavier than all the rest.
'Let him remember it in that room, years to come! The rain that falls upon the roof, the wind that mourns outside the door, may have foreknowledge in their melancholy sound. Let him remember it in that room, years to come!'
He did remember it. In the miserable night he thought of it; in the dreary day, the wretched dawn, the ghostly, memory-haunted twilight. He did remember it. In agony, in sorrow, in remorse, in despair! 'Papa! Papa! Speak to me, dear Papa!' He heard the words again, and saw the face. He saw it fall upon the trembling hands, and heard the one prolonged low cry go upward.
He was fallen, never to be raised up any more. For the night of his worldly ruin there was no to-morrow's sun; for the stain of his domestic shame there was no purification; nothing, thank Heaven, could bring his dead child back to life. But that which he might have made so different in all the Past - which might have made the Past itself so different, though this he hardly thought of now - that which was his own work, that which he could so easily have wrought into a blessing, and had set himself so steadily for years to form into a curse: that was the sharp grief of his soul.
Oh! He did remember it! The rain that fell upon the roof, the wind that mourned outside the door that night, had had foreknowledge in their melancholy sound. He knew, now, what he had done. He knew, now, that he had called down that upon his head, which bowed it lower than the heaviest stroke of fortune. He knew, now, what it was to be rejected and deserted; now, when every loving blossom he had withered in his innocent daughter's heart was snowing down in ashes on him.
He thought of her, as she had been that night when he and his bride came home. He thought of her as she had been, in all the home-events of the abandoned house. He thought, now, that of all around him, she alone had never changed. His boy had faded into dust, his proud wife had sunk into a polluted creature, his flatterer and friend had been transformed into the worst of villains, his riches had melted away, the very walls that sheltered him looked on him as a stranger; she alone had turned the same mild gentle look upon him always. Yes, to the latest and the last. She had never changed to him - nor had he ever changed to her - and she was lost.
As, one by one, they fell away before his mind - his baby- hope, his wife, his friend, his fortune - oh how the mist, through which he had seen her, cleared, and showed him her true self! Oh, how much better than this that he had loved her as he had his boy, and lost her as he had his boy, and laid them in their early grave together!
In his pride - for he was proud yet - he let the world go from him freely. As it fell away, he shook it off. Whether he imagined its face as expressing pity for him, or indifference to him, he shunned it alike. It was in the same degree to be avoided, in either aspect. He had no idea of any one companion in his misery, but the one he had driven away. What he would have said to her, or what consolation submitted to receive from her, he never pictured to himself. But he always knew she would have been true to him, if he had suffered her. He always knew she would have loved him better now, than at any other time; he was as certain that it was in her nature, as he was that there was a sky above him; and he sat thinking so, in his loneliness, from hour to hour. Day after day uttered this speech; night after night showed him this knowledge.
It began, beyond all doubt (however slow it advanced for some time), in the receipt of her young husband's letter, and the certainty that she was gone. And yet - so proud he was in his ruin, or so reminiscent of her only as something that might have been his, but was lost beyond redemption - that if he could have heard her voice in an adjoining room, he would not have gone to her. If he could have seen her in the street, and she had done no more than look at him as she had been used to look, he would have passed on with his old cold unforgiving face, and not addressed her, or relaxed it, though his heart should have broken soon afterwards. However turbulent his thoughts, or harsh his anger had been, at first, concerning her marriage, or her husband, that was all past now. He chiefly thought of what might have been, and what was not. What was, was all summed up in this: that she was lost, and he bowed down with sorrow and remorse.
And now he felt that he had had two children born to him in that house, and that between him and the bare wide empty walls there was a tie, mournful, but hard to rend asunder, connected with a double childhood, and a double loss. He had thought to leave the house - knowing he must go, not knowing whither - upon the evening of the day on which this feeling first struck root in his breast; but he resolved to stay another night, and in the night to ramble through the rooms once more.
He came out of his solitude when it was the dead of night, and with a candle in his hand went softly up the stairs. Of all the footmarks there, making them as common as the common street, there was not one, he thought, but had seemed at the time to set itself upon his brain while he had kept close, listening. He looked at their number, and their hurry, and contention - foot treading foot out, and upward track and downward jostling one another - and thought, with absolute dread and wonder, how much he must have suffered during that trial, and what a changed man he had cause to be. He thought, besides, oh was there, somewhere in the world, a light footstep that might have worn out in a moment half those marks! - and bent his head, and wept as he went up.
He almost saw it, going on before. He stopped, looking up towards the skylight; and a figure, childish itself, but carrying a child, and singing as it went, seemed to be there again. Anon, it was the same figure, alone, stopping for an instant, with suspended breath; the bright hair clustering loosely round its tearful face; and looking back at him.
He wandered through the rooms: lately so luxurious; now so bare and dismal and so changed, apparently, even in their shape and size. The press of footsteps was as thick here; and the same consideration of the suffering he had had, perplexed and terrified him. He began to fear that all this intricacy in his brain would drive him mad; and that his thoughts already lost coherence as the footprints did, and were pieced on to one another, with the same trackless involutions, and varieties of indistinct shapes.
He did not so much as know in which of these rooms she had lived, when she was alone. He was glad to leave them, and go wandering higher up. Abundance of associations were here, connected with his false wife, his false friend and servant, his false grounds of pride; but he put them all by now, and only recalled miserably, weakly, fondly, his two children.
Everywhere, the footsteps! They had had no respect for the old room high up, where the little bed had been; he could hardly find a clear space there, to throw himself down, on the floor, against the wall, poor broken man, and let his tears flow as they would. He had shed so many tears here, long ago, that he was less ashamed of his weakness in this place than in any other - perhaps, with that consciousness, had made excuses to himself for coming here. Here, with stooping shoulders, and his chin dropped on his breast, he had come. Here, thrown upon the bare boards, in the dead of night, he wept, alone - a proud man, even then; who, if a kind hand could have been stretched out, or a kind face could have looked in, would have risen up, and turned away, and gone down to his cell.
When the day broke he was shut up in his rooms again. He had meant to go away to-day, but clung to this tie in the house as the last and only thing left to him. He would go to-morrow. To-morrow came. He would go to-morrow. Every night, within the knowledge of no human creature, he came forth, and wandered through the despoiled house like a ghost. Many a morning when the day broke, his altered face, drooping behind the closed blind in his window, imperfectly transparent to the light as yet, pondered on the loss of his two children. It was one child no more. He reunited them in his thoughts, and they were never asunder. Oh, that he could have united them in his past love, and in death, and that one had not been so much worse than dead!
Strong mental agitation and disturbance was no novelty to him, even before his late sufferings. It never is, to obstinate and sullen natures; for they struggle hard to be such. Ground, long undermined, will often fall down in a moment; what was undermined here in so many ways, weakened, and crumbled, little by little, more and more, as the hand moved on the dial.
At last he began to think he need not go at all. He might yet give up what his creditors had spared him (that they had not spared him more, was his own act), and only sever the tie between him and the ruined house, by severing that other link -
It was then that his footfall was audible in the late housekeeper's room, as he walked to and fro; but not audible in its true meaning, or it would have had an appalling sound.
The world was very busy and restless about him. He became aware of that again. It was whispering and babbling. It was never quiet. This, and the intricacy and complication of the footsteps, harassed him to death. Objects began to take a bleared and russet colour in his eyes. Dombey and Son was no more - his children no more. This must be thought of, well, to-morrow.
He thought of it to-morrow; and sitting thinking in his chair, saw in the glass, from time to time, this picture:
A spectral, haggard, wasted likeness of himself, brooded and brooded over the empty fireplace. Now it lifted up its head, examining the lines and hollows in its face; now hung it down again, and brooded afresh. Now it rose and walked about; now passed into the next room, and came back with something from the dressing-table in its breast. Now, it was looking at the bottom of the door, and thinking.
Hush! what? It was thinking that if blood were to trickle that way, and to leak out into the hall, it must be a long time going so far. It would move so stealthily and slowly, creeping on, with here a lazy little pool, and there a start, and then another little pool, that a desperately wounded man could only be discovered through its means, either dead or dying. When it had thought of this a long while, it got up again, and walked to and fro with its hand in its breast. He glanced at it occasionally, very curious to watch its motions, and he marked how wicked and murderous that hand looked.
Now it was thinking again! What was it thinking?
Whether they would tread in the blood when it crept so far, and carry it about the house among those many prints of feet, or even out into the street.
It sat down, with its eyes upon the empty fireplace, and as it lost itself in thought there shone into the room a gleam of light; a ray of sun. It was quite unmindful, and sat thinking. Suddenly it rose, with a terrible face, and that guilty hand grasping what was in its breast. Then it was arrested by a cry - a wild, loud, piercing, loving, rapturous cry - and he only saw his own reflection in the glass, and at his knees, his daughter!
Yes. His daughter! Look at her! Look here! Down upon the ground, clinging to him, calling to him, folding her hands, praying to him.
'Papa! Dearest Papa! Pardon me, forgive me! I have come back to ask forgiveness on my knees. I never can be happy more, without it!'
Unchanged still. Of all the world, unchanged. Raising the same face to his, as on that miserable night. Asking his forgiveness!
'Dear Papa, oh don't look strangely on me! I never meant to leave you. I never thought of it, before or afterwards. I was frightened when I went away, and could not think. Papa, dear, I am changed. I am penitent. I know my fault. I know my duty better now. Papa, don't cast me off, or I shall die!'
He tottered to his chair. He felt her draw his arms about her neck; he felt her put her own round his; he felt her kisses on his face; he felt her wet cheek laid against his own; he felt - oh, how deeply! - all that he had done.
Upon the breast that he had bruised, against the heart that he had almost broken, she laid his face, now covered with his hands, and said, sobbing:
'Papa, love, I am a mother. I have a child who will soon call Walter by the name by which I call you. When it was born, and when I knew how much I loved it, I knew what I had done in leaving you. Forgive me, dear Papa! oh say God bless me, and my little child!'
He would have said it, if he could. He would have raised his hands and besought her for pardon, but she caught them in her own, and put them down, hurriedly.
'My little child was born at sea, Papa I prayed to God (and so did Walter for me) to spare me, that I might come home. The moment I could land, I came back to you. Never let us be parted any more, Papa. Never let us be parted any more!'
His head, now grey, was encircled by her arm; and he groaned to think that never, never, had it rested so before.
'You will come home with me, Papa, and see my baby. A boy, Papa. His name is Paul. I think - I hope - he's like - '
Her tears stopped her.
'Dear Papa, for the sake of my child, for the sake of the name we have given him, for my sake, pardon Walter. He is so kind and tender to me. I am so happy with him. It was not his fault that we were married. It was mine. I loved him so much.'
She clung closer to him, more endearing and more earnest.
'He is the darling of my heart, Papa I would die for him. He will love and honour you as I will. We will teach our little child to love and honour you; and we will tell him, when he can understand, that you had a son of that name once, and that he died, and you were very sorry; but that he is gone to Heaven, where we all hope to see him when our time for resting comes. Kiss me, Papa, as a promise that you will be reconciled to Walter - to my dearest husband - to the father of the little child who taught me to come back, Papa Who taught me to come back!'
As she clung closer to him, in another burst of tears, he kissed her on her lips, and, lifting up his eyes, said, 'Oh my God, forgive me, for I need it very much!'
With that he dropped his head again, lamenting over and caressing her, and there was not a sound in all the house for a long, long time; they remaining clasped in one another's arms, in the glorious sunshine that had crept in with Florence.
He dressed himself for going out, with a docile submission to her entreaty; and walking with a feeble gait, and looking back, with a tremble, at the room in which he had been so long shut up, and where he had seen the picture in the glass, passed out with her into the hall. Florence, hardly glancing round her, lest she should remind him freshly of their last parting - for their feet were on the very stones where he had struck her in his madness - and keeping close to him, with her eyes upon his face, and his arm about her, led him out to a coach that was waiting at the door, and carried him away.
Then, Miss Tox and Polly came out of their concealment, and exulted tearfully. And then they packed his clothes, and books, and so forth, with great care; and consigned them in due course to certain persons sent by Florence, in the evening, to fetch them. And then they took a last cup of tea in the lonely house.
'And so Dombey and Son, as I observed upon a certain sad occasion,' said Miss Tox, winding up a host of recollections, 'is indeed a daughter, Polly, after all.'
'And a good one!' exclaimed Polly.
'You are right,' said Miss Tox; 'and it's a credit to you, Polly, that you were always her friend when she was a little child. You were her friend long before I was, Polly,' said Miss Tox; 'and you're a good creature. Robin!'
Miss Tox addressed herself to a bullet-headed young man, who appeared to be in but indifferent circumstances, and in depressed spirits, and who was sitting in a remote corner. Rising, he disclosed to view the form and features of the Grinder.
'Robin,' said Miss Tox, 'I have just observed to your mother, as you may have heard, that she is a good creature.
'And so she is, Miss,' quoth the Grinder, with some feeling.
'Very well, Robin,' said Miss Tox, 'I am glad to hear you say so. Now, Robin, as I am going to give you a trial, at your urgent request, as my domestic, with a view to your restoration to respectability, I will take this impressive occasion of remarking that I hope you will never forget that you have, and have always had, a good mother, and that you will endeavour so to conduct yourself as to be a comfort to her.'
'Upon my soul I will, Miss,' returned the Grinder. 'I have come through a good deal, and my intentions is now as straightfor'ard, Miss, as a cove's - '
'I must get you to break yourself of that word, Robin, if you Please,' interposed Miss Tox, politely.
'If you please, Miss, as a chap's - '
'Thankee, Robin, no,' returned Miss Tox, 'I should prefer individual.'
'As a indiwiddle's,' said the Grinder.
'Much better,' remarked Miss Tox, complacently; 'infinitely more expressive!'
' - can be,' pursued Rob. 'If I hadn't been and got made a Grinder on, Miss and Mother, which was a most unfortunate circumstance for a young co - indiwiddle.'
'Very good indeed,' observed Miss Tox, approvingly.
' - and if I hadn't been led away by birds, and then fallen into a bad service,' said the Grinder, 'I hope I might have done better. But it's never too late for a - '
'Indi - ' suggested Miss Tox.
' - widdle,' said the Grinder, 'to mend; and I hope to mend, Miss, with your kind trial; and wishing, Mother, my love to father, and brothers and sisters, and saying of it.'
'I am very glad indeed to hear it,' observed Miss Tox. 'Will you take a little bread and butter, and a cup of tea, before we go, Robin?'
'Thankee, Miss,' returned the Grinder; who immediately began to use his own personal grinders in a most remarkable manner, as if he had been on very short allowance for a considerable period.
Miss Tox, being, in good time, bonneted and shawled, and Polly too, Rob hugged his mother, and followed his new mistress away; so much to the hopeful admiration of Polly, that something in her eyes made luminous rings round the gas-lamps as she looked after him. Polly then put out her light, locked the house-door, delivered the key at an agent's hard by, and went home as fast as she could go; rejoicing in the shrill delight that her unexpected arrival would occasion there. The great house, dumb as to all that had been suffered in it, and the changes it had witnessed, stood frowning like a dark mute on the street; baulking any nearer inquiries with the staring announcement that the lease of this desirable Family Mansion was to be disposed of.
座落在那条长长的、沉闷无趣的街道中的那座宏伟的公馆，曾经是弗洛伦斯度过童年与孤独生活的地方，如今又发生了变化。它依旧是一座宏伟的公馆，经得起风吹雨打；屋顶没有裂缝，窗子没有损坏，墙壁没有坍塌，可是它却是个废墟了，耗子从里面飞快地跑出来。
托林森先生和其他仆人最初对他们所听到的那些传说纷纭的谣言难以置信。厨娘说，谢天谢地，我们主人的名誉不是那么容易损害的；托林森先生料想还会听到英格兰银行将要倒闭或保存在伦敦塔中的宝石将要变卖的消息。可是随后不久《公报》①寄到了，珀奇先生也来了；珀奇先生把珀奇太太一道带来，在厨房里谈论这件事情，度过了一个愉快的夜晚。
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①公报（Gazette）：指英国政府1966年以后出版的公报，上面登载政府文告、官员的任命与调动、法律事务以及宣布破产等消息。
当这桩事情已经没有任何疑问的时候，托林森先生主要担心的是这次破产准是一笔巨大的金额——不少于十万镑。珀奇先生本人认为十万镑未必就能抵偿债务。以珀奇太太和厨娘为首的妇女们不时重复地说道，“十万镑，”，“十万镑”，那种得意的神气，真仿佛说出这几个字就跟手里拿到这些钱一样似的；注意着托林森先生的女仆但愿她能有这笔钱的百分之一，那样她就可以把它赠给她的意中人了；托林森依旧对过去所受的委屈耿耿于怀，就发表意见说，一位外国人有了这么多钱，除非把它花在连鬓胡子上，否则真不知道该拿它怎么办；这几句尖酸刻薄的挖苦话把女仆说得眼泪汪汪地离开了。
不过她出去没多久；因为厨娘素有心地特别善良的名声，她说，托林森，他们现在无论如何，都必须好好相处，相互支持才好，因为现在很难说，他们有多快就要分手了。厨娘说，他们在这座公馆里曾经见过一次丧葬、一次结婚，一次私奔；不要让人说他们像现在这种时刻还不能和睦相处。珀奇太太听了这番感人肺腑的话，深受感动，当众把厨娘称作天使。托林森先生回答厨娘说，他决不会妨碍这样善良的感情，而只会欢迎它；他说完就出去寻找女仆，不一会儿就挽着那位年轻姑娘的胳膊回来了；他告诉厨房里的人说，刚才关于外国人的话他只是说着开开玩笑而已；他与安妮已决定今后同甘共苦，在牛津市场里开设一个蔬菜水果店，兼卖药草和水蛭；他特别请求在场的各位多多光顾。这一宣布受到了热烈的欢呼；珀奇太太的心灵飞到了未来，在厨娘的耳朵旁一本正经地低声说道，“让他们多生几个女孩子！”。
这个家庭每发生一桩不幸的事件，在地下室里总少不了要大吃大喝一番。因此厨娘为这顿晚饭匆忙准备了一两盘热菜，托林森先生也调制了一个龙虾色拉来招待大家。甚至皮普钦太太—也由于发生了这个事件，心情激动，摇了铃，吩咐厨房里的人，把剩下的一小块小羊胰脏热一热，给她当晚饭，并和四分之一杯加上糖和香料，并将烫热的雪利酒（加上糖和香料）一起放在托盘里一起端给她；因为她的情绪坏透了。
他们也稍稍谈到了董贝先生，但是谈得很少。大家主要是猜测他多久以前就已知道将会发生这样的事情。厨娘机灵地说道，“啊，他老早就知道了。哎呀！这一点您是可以发誓的！”大家请珀奇先生发表意见，他对她的看法表示赞同。有人说，不知道董贝先生将怎么办，他会不会出走。托林森先生认为不会，照他看来，董贝先生可以到那些为上流社会人士开设的救济院去寻求庇护。“啊，您知道，他在那里将会有他自己的小菜园，”厨娘悲叹地说道，“春天可以栽种香豌豆。”
“完全不错，”托林森先生说，“还可以当个什么会的会友。”
“我们全都是会友，”珀奇太太停止喝酒，说道。“姐妹们除外，”珀奇先生说道。“伟大的人物是怎样垮台的啊，”厨娘说道。
“高傲一定是要垮台的。过去一直是这样，将来也会这样！”女仆说道。
当他们发表这些意见的时候，他们感到他们自己是多么善良；当他们听天由命地忍受着这共同的冲击时又表现出基督徒何等同心同德的精神，这是令人惊奇的。这种极好的心情只有一次被打乱了，那是一位年轻的、身份低下的、穿黑长袜的帮厨女工引起的；她张着嘴坐了很长一段时间之后，出乎意料地从嘴里说出了大意是这样的一句话：“如果他不发工资的话！”一时间这群人哑口无言地坐着，但厨娘首先恢复过来，她转过身子对着那位女人，想要知道，她怎么敢用这样一种无情无义的猜疑来侮辱这个她靠它吃饭的家庭，是不是她认为，任何一位还留有一点点道义的人居然能把他们可怜的仆人的菲薄的收入都剥夺掉吗？“因为，如果那是您的宗教感情的话，玛丽•道斯，”厨娘激昂地说道，“我不知道您打算走向哪里去。”
托林森先生也不知道，任何人也不知道，那位年轻的帮厨女工本人好像也不完全知道；在一片讥笑声中，她好像被一件外衣笼罩着似的，被慌乱的情绪笼罩着。
过了几天以后，陌生的人们开始在这座房屋中出现，并在餐厅里相互约定见面的时间，仿佛他们是住在这里似的。特别是，有一位面貌像犹太—阿拉伯人的先生，佩着一条很大的表链，在客厅里吹着口哨；当他在等待另一位经常在口袋里带着笔和墨水瓶的先生的时候，他问托林森先生（随随便便地称他为“老公鸡”），他是不是知道，这些深红色、夹织金丝的帘子新买来的时候花了多少钱。到屋子里来的人和在客厅里相互约会的事情每天愈来愈多，每一位先生似乎在口袋里都带着笔和墨水瓶，而且有时还使用它们。最后传说将要有一次拍卖，于是更多的人来了；他们口袋中带着笔和墨水瓶，并指挥着一队戴着毡制便帽的工人；这些工人立即拉起地毯，移动家具，并在前厅和楼梯上留下几千双鞋印。
地下室的人们这些时候一直在秘密地开着会议，而且由于没有什么事好做，就开出丰盛的宴席，大吃大喝。终于有一天，他们全体被召集到皮普钦太太的房间里；这位秘鲁美人这样对他们说：
“你们的主人正处在困境中，”皮普钦太太尖酸地说道，“我想，你们知道了吧？”
托林森充当代言人，承认他们都已知道这个事实了。
“毫无疑问，你们都已在找工作了，”皮普钦太太向他们摇摇头，说道。
后面的一排中有一个尖锐的喊道，“不比您本人找得多！”
“那是您的想法，是不是，厚颜无耻的太太？”忿怒的皮普钦太太射出烈焰般的眼光，越过中间的头顶望过去。
“是的，皮普钦太太，我是这样想的，”厨娘向前走去，回答道。“那又怎么样呢，请问？”
“唔，那您就可以走了，您愿意多早走就多早走，”皮普钦太太说道，“走得愈早愈好；我希望，我永远不再看到您的脸孔了。”
英勇无畏的皮普钦太太说了这些话之后，就拿出了一只帆布袋，读出了她到那天为止外加一个月的工资；然后紧紧地握着钱，直到那张收据的签字符合要求，签完最后一笔，她才很舍不得地放开了手。皮普钦太太对家里每一位仆人都重复进行了同样的手续，直到所有人的工资都支付完毕为止。
“现在那些愿意走的人就请准备走吧，”皮普钦太太说道，“那些愿意留下的人可以在这里再吃住一个星期左右，并做一些有益的工作。但是，”怒火高烧的皮普钦太太说道，“那位当厨娘的混帐女人除外，她必须立刻就走。”
“她一定会走的！”厨娘说道，“我祝您好！皮普钦太太，我还真诚地希望，我要是能对您的花容月貌恭维一番就好了！”
“快滚开，”皮普钦太太跺着脚，说道。
厨娘摆出一副使皮普钦太太十分恼怒的、仁慈而尊严的神态，离开了房间；不一会儿，她的盟友们就跟她在地下室里聚集在一起了。
然后托林森先生说，首先他建议先吃一点快餐；吃完快餐之后，他想提出一个他认为符合他们目前处境的建议。饮食端上来了，而且被很痛快地吃喝了之后，托林森先生所提的建议是，厨娘就要走了，如果我们对我们自己不真诚相待的话，那么没有任何人会对我们真诚相待的。我们在这屋子里居住了很长久的时间，一直努力保持着和睦友好的关系（这时厨娘激动地说道，“听哪！听哪！说得多好！”这时又参加到他们中间、饱到喉咙眼的珀奇太太流出了眼泪）；他认为，现在他们的感情应该是：“一个人走，所有的人都一起走。”这种慷慨无私的感情使女仆十分感动，她热情地表示附议。厨娘说，她觉得这是正确的，但只希望这样做并不是为了对她表示恭维，而是出于一种责任感。托林森先生回答说，是的，这是出于一种责任感；还说如果现在非要让他发表意见不可的话，那么他将会直率地说，他认为，继续留在一个正在进行拍卖等类活动的公馆里，不是一件太体面的事情。女仆对这点深信不疑，为了证实这点，她说，有一位戴毡制便帽的陌生人就在今天早上想在楼梯上跟她亲嘴；托林森先生听到这里立即从椅子中跳起来，想去寻找那位罪犯并“把他杀死”；这时妇女们把他拉住，恳求他冷静下来，思考一下，还是立刻离开发生这种下流事情的房屋为好，那要容易得多，也明智得多；珀奇太太从另外一个角度来考虑问题；她认为，即使是对关在自己房间里的董贝先生表示关心体贴来说，也必须要求火速离开这里。“因为，”这位善良的女人说道，“如果他突然碰见了这些可怜的仆人中的任何一位的话，那么他的感情该会是怎么样啊！他们曾经一度被人欺骗过，以为他富得不得了呢！”这种道义上的考虑使厨娘大受感动；珀奇太太就引用了一些新颖的、精选的虔诚的道理来进一步完善她的说法。情况变得十分清楚：他们必须全都走。于是大家把箱子捆好了，并把马车叫来，那天薄暮的时候，这群人中没有一个留下来了。
这座宽敞的、经得起风吹雨打的公馆矗立在那条长长的、沉寂无趣的街道中，但它却是一个废墟了，耗子从里面飞快地跑出来。
戴毡制便帽的工人继续在搬移家具；带着笔和墨水瓶的先生们开列出家具清单；他们在决不是用来坐人的家具上坐着，在决不是用来吃东西的家具上吃着从酒吧买来的面包和乳酪，而且似乎感到，把那些贵重的物品硬派作奇怪的用途是一件乐趣。家具被杂乱无章地摆放着；褥垫和床上用品出现在餐厅里；玻璃器具和瓷器进入了暖房；大型的成套餐具被堆放在大客厅中的长沙发椅子上；夹楼梯地毯的金属线被捆成一小束，装饰着大理石的壁炉架。最后，从阳台上挂出一块小地毯，上面还有印好的说明书；还有一个类似的装饰品垂悬在前厅正门的两旁。
然后，一长列生了霉的轻便二轮马车和二轮运货马车整天在街上徐徐移动着；一群群衣衫褴褛的吸血鬼、犹太人和基督徒群集在屋子里，他们用指关节敲敲平板玻璃的镜子，在大钢琴上弹敲着不谐和的八度音，用湿漉漉的食指在图画上乱划，在最好的餐刀的刀口上吹气，用肮脏的拳头在椅子和沙发的厚垫子上捶打，把羽毛褥垫弄乱，把所有的抽屉都打开又关上，在手掌上掂掂银匙和银叉的重量，细细观察绸缎与亚麻布的每一根线，然后对所有的东西都指责一通。整个屋子没有一个秘密的地方。胡子拉碴、脸被鼻烟弄脏了的陌生人细看着烹饪用炉，就跟看顶楼里的衣橱一样好奇。壮汉们戴着磨去了绒毛的帽子，从卧室的窗子里向外看，并跟街上的朋友们开玩笑。冷静的、精于计算的人们拿着物品目录，退到化妆室里，用铅笔头在上面记着旁注。两位经纪人甚至闯进了太平门，从屋顶上面附近一带地方进行全景眺望。川流不息的人群、闹闹哄哄的喧声、上上下下的奔忙持续了好几天。上等时髦家具公司正在陈列物品，供大家参观。
然后，在最豪华的餐厅里用桌子围成一个栅栏；精美的、漆了法国漆、曲腿的西班牙红木餐桌排成长长的一列；在这些餐桌上面竖起了拍卖人的台子；成群的衣衫褴褛的吸血鬼、犹太人和基督徒，胡子拉碴、脸被鼻烟弄脏了的陌生人，戴着磨去了绒毛的帽子的壮汉们，聚集在它的周围；他们坐在近旁的每件东西（包括壁炉台）上，开始喊价。房间里整天热气腾腾，嘈杂，灰尘飞扬，而在这些热气、杂音和灰尘之上，拍卖人的头、肩膀、嗓子和槌子一直在不停地工作着；戴毡制便帽的工人们忙忙碌碌地搬抬着物品，疲累心烦，脾气变得特别坏；可是物品仍然在被搬着，搬着，搬走了，同时又仍然不断地被搬进来。有时可以听到开心逗趣和哄堂大笑。这种情形持续了整整一天和随后接着的三天。上等时髦家具公司正在拍卖。
然后，生了霉的二轮轻便马车和二轮运货马车又开来了，跟它们一起来的还有有弹簧的搬运车和四轮运货马车，还有一大群携带着绳子的搬运夫。戴毡制便帽的工人从早到晚拧着改锥和铁钳，或者十几个人在沉重的负担下，脚步不稳、摇摇晃晃地走下楼梯，或者把像岩石般沉重的西班牙红木、上等的黄檀木或平板玻璃搬进二轮轻便马车、四轮运货马车、搬运车和手推车中。所有的运输工具都被动用了，从有篷盖的运货马车到独轮手推车。可怜的保罗的小床架是放在一个小单轴双轮马车中拉走的。将近一个星期，上等时髦家具公司都在搬运物品。
终于，所有的物品都被搬走了。除了散乱的目录的纸页、零零落落的稻草和干草的碎株和前厅门后的一套白镴壶外，屋子里没有什么东西留下了。戴毡制帽的工人们收拾好他们的改锥和铁钳，装进袋子，扛着它们，离开了。带着笔和墨水瓶的先生们当中的一位把整个房屋贴上一张出租这座上好的公馆的招贴，关上了百叶窗。最后，他跟着戴毡制便帽的工人出去了。所有曾经闯进这个屋子里来的人，没有一个留下来了；这座房屋是一个废墟了，耗子从里面飞快地跑出来。
皮普钦太太的一套住房，以及一层楼中那些拉下窗帘、锁着的房间，幸免于被蹂躏。当这些活动在进行的时候，她森严地、木然无情地待在自己的房间中；或者在进行拍卖的时候偶尔出去看看，看那些货物是按什么价钱卖出去的；她还给一张安乐椅喊了一个价；这张安乐椅皮普钦太太喊的价最高。当奇克夫人前来看她的时候，她正坐在她的这个财产上。
“我的哥哥怎么样，皮普钦太太？”奇克夫人问道。“我不比魔鬼知道得更多，”皮普钦太太说道。“他从来不肯赏光跟我说话。他的饭菜和饮料都送到他房间旁边的一个房间里，当没有人在那里的时候，他就走出来取走。问我没有用。我知道南边热带国家中有一个人吃冷的葡萄干粥时竟把嘴烫伤了，可是我对他的情况并不比对这个热带国家的人的情况知道得更多。”
恶毒的皮普钦太太说这话的时候，肢体扭动了一下。
“可是天呀！”奇克夫人温和地喊道，“这要到什么时候才结束哪？如果我的哥哥不作出努力的话，皮普钦太太，那么他将怎么办呢？说实在的，我想这时候他已经完全明白，一个人不作出努力会有什么样的结果，用不着警告他提防犯那样致命的错误了。”
“哎呀！”皮普钦太太擦擦鼻子，说道，“我看，这是大惊小怪。这不是一件什么令人惊奇的事情。人们过去就遭遇过不幸，不得不跟他们的家具分离。不错，我就遭遇过这样的不幸！”
“我的哥哥，”奇克夫人意味深长地说道，“是一个多么异常——多么奇怪的人。他是我所见过的最异常的人。有谁能相信，当他听到他那个古怪的女儿结婚和移居国外的消息的时候——现在回忆起来，对我倒是一种安慰：过去我经常说，这个孩子有些反常的东西，可是谁也没有理会我的话——，我说，有谁能相信，他那时竟居然转过身来对我说，他曾经根据我的态度猜想，她到我的家里去了？啊，我的天！又谁能相信，我仅仅对他说，‘保罗，我可能很愚蠢；我也毫不怀疑，我是很愚蠢的，但是我不能明白，你的事情怎么能落到这个地步呢？’这时候他竟居然向我猛扑过来，要求我再也别去见他，除非他要我去的时候我再去！啊，我的天！”
“啊！”皮普钦太太说道，“可惜他没有跟矿井打交道。矿井会考验他的性格。”
“那么，”奇克夫人根本不管皮普钦太太的意见，继续说道，“这一切将怎样结束呢？这是我想知道的。我的哥哥打算做什么？他必须做点事情。继续关在他自己的房间里是没有用的。生意不会来到他的面前。不会的，他必须出去找它。那么他为什么不出去找呢！他这一辈子都在做生意，我想他是知道到哪里去找的。很好，那么为什么不到那里去找呢？”
奇克夫人锻造了这条有力的推理的链条之后，沉默了一会儿，进行自我赞赏。
“再说，”这位用心深远的夫人露出一副好争辩的神态，说道，“当这些可怕的、不愉快的事情正在进行的时候，他却把自己这样一直关在这里，有谁听说过有这种固执的脾气的吗？并不是仿佛他没有什么地方好去似的。当然，他可以到我们家里来。他在我们家里就像在自己家里
Chapter 60
Chiefly Matrimonial
The grand half-yearly festival holden by Doctor and Mrs Blimber, on which occasion they requested the pleasure of the company of every young gentleman pursuing his studies in that genteel establishment, at an early party, when the hour was half-past seven o'clock, and when the object was quadrilles, had duly taken place, about this time; and the young gentlemen, with no unbecoming demonstrations of levity, had betaken themselves, in a state of scholastic repletion, to their own homes. Mr Skettles had repaired abroad, permanently to grace the establishment of his father Sir Barnet Skettles, whose popular manners had obtained him a diplomatic appointment, the honours of which were discharged by himself and Lady Skettles, to the satisfaction even of their own countrymen and countrywomen: which was considered almost miraculous. Mr Tozer, now a young man of lofty stature, in Wellington boots, was so extremely full of antiquity as to be nearly on a par with a genuine ancient Roman in his knowledge of English: a triumph that affected his good parents with the tenderest emotions, and caused the father and mother of Mr Briggs (whose learning, like ill-arranged luggage, was so tightly packed that he couldn't get at anything he wanted) to hide their diminished heads. The fruit laboriously gathered from the tree of knowledge by this latter young gentleman, in fact, had been subjected to so much pressure, that it had become a kind of intellectual Norfolk Biffin, and had nothing of its original form or flavour remaining. Master Bitherstone now, on whom the forcing system had the happier and not uncommon effect of leaving no impression whatever, when the forcing apparatus ceased to work, was in a much more comfortable plight; and being then on shipboard, bound for Bengal, found himself forgetting, with such admirable rapidity, that it was doubtful whether his declensions of noun-substantives would hold out to the end of the voyage.
When Doctor Blimber, in pursuance of the usual course, would have said to the young gentlemen, on the morning of the party, 'Gentlemen, we will resume our studies on the twenty-fifth of next month,' he departed from the usual course, and said, 'Gentlemen, when our friend Cincinnatus retired to his farm, he did not present to the senate any Roman who he sought to nominate as his successor.' But there is a Roman here,' said Doctor Blimber, laying his hand on the shoulder of Mr Feeder, B.A., adolescens imprimis gravis et doctus, gentlemen, whom I, a retiring Cincinnatus, wish to present to my little senate, as their future Dictator. Gentlemen, we will resume our studies on the twenty-fifth of next month, under the auspices of Mr Feeder, B.A.' At this (which Doctor Blimber had previously called upon all the parents, and urbanely explained), the young gentlemen cheered; and Mr Tozer, on behalf of the rest, instantly presented the Doctor with a silver inkstand, in a speech containing very little of the mother-tongue, but fifteen quotations from the Latin, and seven from the Greek, which moved the younger of the young gentlemen to discontent and envy: they remarking, 'Oh, ah. It was all very well for old Tozer, but they didn't subscribe money for old Tozer to show off with, they supposed; did they? What business was it of old Tozer's more than anybody else's? It wasn't his inkstand. Why couldn't he leave the boys' property alone?' and murmuring other expressions of their dissatisfaction, which seemed to find a greater relief in calling him old Tozer, than in any other available vent.
Not a word had been said to the young gentlemen, nor a hint dropped, of anything like a contemplated marriage between Mr Feeder, B.A., and the fair Cornelia Blimber. Doctor Blimber, especially, seemed to take pains to look as if nothing would surprise him more; but it was perfectly well known to all the young gentlemen nevertheless, and when they departed for the society of their relations and friends, they took leave of Mr Feeder with awe.
Mr Feeder's most romantic visions were fulfilled. The Doctor had determined to paint the house outside, and put it in thorough repair; and to give up the business, and to give up Cornelia. The painting and repairing began upon the very day of the young gentlemen's departure, and now behold! the wedding morning was come, and Cornelia, in a new pair of spectacles, was waiting to be led to the hymeneal altar.
The Doctor with his learned legs, and Mrs Blimber in a lilac bonnet, and Mr Feeder, B.A., with his long knuckles and his bristly head of hair, and Mr Feeder's brother, the Reverend Alfred Feeder, M.A., who was to perform the ceremony, were all assembled in the drawing-room, and Cornelia with her orange-flowers and bridesmaids had just come down, and looked, as of old, a little squeezed in appearance, but very charming, when the door opened, and the weak-eyed young man, in a loud voice, made the following proclamation:
'MR AND MRS TOOTS!'
Upon which there entered Mr Toots, grown extremely stout, and on his arm a lady very handsomely and becomingly dressed, with very bright black eyes. 'Mrs Blimber,' said Mr Toots, 'allow me to present my wife.'
Mrs Blimber was delighted to receive her. Mrs Blimber was a little condescending, but extremely kind.
'And as you've known me for a long time, you know,' said Mr Toots, 'let me assure you that she is one of the most remarkable women that ever lived.'
'My dear!' remonstrated Mrs Toots.
'Upon my word and honour she is,' said Mr Toots. 'I - I assure you, Mrs Blimber, she's a most extraordinary woman.'
Mrs Toots laughed merrily, and Mrs Blimber led her to Cornelia. Mr Toots having paid his respects in that direction and having saluted his old preceptor, who said, in allusion to his conjugal state, 'Well, Toots, well, Toots! So you are one of us, are you, Toots?' - retired with Mr Feeder, B.A., into a window.
Mr Feeder, B.A., being in great spirits, made a spar at Mr Toots, and tapped him skilfully with the back of his hand on the breastbone.
'Well, old Buck!' said Mr Feeder with a laugh. 'Well! Here we are! Taken in and done for. Eh?'
'Feeder,' returned Mr Toots. 'I give you joy. If you're as - as- as perfectly blissful in a matrimonial life, as I am myself, you'll have nothing to desire.'
'I don't forget my old friends, you see,' said Mr Feeder. 'I ask em to my wedding, Toots.'
'Feeder,' replied Mr Toots gravely, 'the fact is, that there were several circumstances which prevented me from communicating with you until after my marriage had been solemnised. In the first place, I had made a perfect Brute of myself to you, on the subject of Miss Dombey; and I felt that if you were asked to any wedding of mine, you would naturally expect that it was with Miss Dombey, which involved explanations, that upon my word and honour, at that crisis, would have knocked me completely over. In the second place, our wedding was strictly private; there being nobody present but one friend of myself and Mrs Toots's, who is a Captain in - I don't exactly know in what,' said Mr Toots, 'but it's of no consequence. I hope, Feeder, that in writing a statement of what had occurred before Mrs Toots and myself went abroad upon our foreign tour, I fully discharged the offices of friendship.'
'Toots, my boy,' said Mr Feeder, shaking his hands, 'I was joking.'
'And now, Feeder,' said Mr Toots, 'I should be glad to know what you think of my union.'
'Capital!' returned Mr Feeder.
'You think it's capital, do you, Feeder?'said Mr Toots solemnly. 'Then how capital must it be to Me! For you can never know what an extraordinary woman that is.'
Mr Feeder was willing to take it for granted. But Mr Toots shook his head, and wouldn't hear of that being possible.
'You see,' said Mr Toots, 'what I wanted in a wife was - in short, was sense. Money, Feeder, I had. Sense I - I had not, particularly.'
Mr Feeder murmured, 'Oh, yes, you had, Toots!' But Mr Toots said:
'No, Feeder, I had not. Why should I disguise it? I had not. I knew that sense was There,' said Mr Toots, stretching out his hand towards his wife, 'in perfect heaps. I had no relation to object or be offended, on the score of station; for I had no relation. I have never had anybody belonging to me but my guardian, and him, Feeder, I have always considered as a Pirate and a Corsair. Therefore, you know it was not likely,' said Mr Toots, 'that I should take his opinion.'
'No,' said Mr Feeder.
'Accordingly,' resumed Mr Toots, 'I acted on my own. Bright was the day on which I did so! Feeder! Nobody but myself can tell what the capacity of that woman's mind is. If ever the Rights of Women, and all that kind of thing, are properly attended to, it will be through her powerful intellect - Susan, my dear!' said Mr Toots, looking abruptly out of the windows 'pray do not exert yourself!'
'My dear,' said Mrs Toots, 'I was only talking.'
'But, my love,' said Mr Toots, 'pray do not exert yourself. You really must be careful. Do not, my dear Susan, exert yourself. She's so easily excited,' said Mr Toots, apart to Mrs Blimber, 'and then she forgets the medical man altogether.'
Mrs Blimber was impressing on Mrs Toots the necessity of caution, when Mr Feeder, B.A., offered her his arm, and led her down to the carriages that were waiting to go to church. Doctor Blimber escorted Mrs Toots. Mr Toots escorted the fair bride, around whose lambent spectacles two gauzy little bridesmaids fluttered like moths. Mr Feeder's brother, Mr Alfred Feeder, M.A., had already gone on, in advance, to assume his official functions.
The ceremony was performed in an admirable manner. Cornelia, with her crisp little curls, 'went in,' as the Chicken might have said, with great composure; and Doctor Blimber gave her away, like a man who had quite made up his mind to it. The gauzy little bridesmaids appeared to suffer most. Mrs Blimber was affected, but gently so; and told the Reverend Mr Alfred Feeder, M.A., on the way home, that if she could only have seen Cicero in his retirement at Tusculum, she would not have had a wish, now, ungratified.
There was a breakfast afterwards, limited to the same small party; at which the spirits of Mr Feeder, B.A., were tremendous, and so communicated themselves to Mrs Toots that Mr Toots was several times heard to observe, across the table, 'My dear Susan, don't exert yourself!' The best of it was, that Mr Toots felt it incunbent on him to make a speech; and in spite of a whole code of telegraphic dissuasions from Mrs Toots, appeared on his legs for the first time in his life.
'I really,' said Mr Toots, 'in this house, where whatever was done to me in the way of - of any mental confusion sometimes - which is of no consequence and I impute to nobody - I was always treated like one of Doctor Blimber's family, and had a desk to myself for a considerable period - can - not - allow - my friend Feeder to be - '
Mrs Toots suggested 'married.'
'It may not be inappropriate to the occasion, or altogether uninteresting,' said Mr Toots with a delighted face, 'to observe that my wife is a most extraordinary woman, and would do this much better than myself - allow my friend Feeder to be married - especially to - '
Mrs Toots suggested 'to Miss Blimber.'
'To Mrs Feeder, my love!' said Mr Toots, in a subdued tone of private discussion: "'whom God hath joined," you know, "let no man" - don't you know? I cannot allow my friend Feeder to be married - especially to Mrs Feeder - without proposing their - their - Toasts; and may,' said Mr Toots, fixing his eyes on his wife, as if for inspiration in a high flight, 'may the torch of Hymen be the beacon of joy, and may the flowers we have this day strewed in their path, be the - the banishers of- of gloom!'
Doctor Blimber, who had a taste for metaphor, was pleased with this, and said, 'Very good, Toots! Very well said, indeed, Toots!' and nodded his head and patted his hands. Mr Feeder made in reply, a comic speech chequered with sentiment. Mr Alfred Feeder, M.A, was afterwards very happy on Doctor and Mrs Blimber; Mr Feeder, B.A., scarcely less so, on the gauzy little bridesmaids. Doctor Blimber then, in a sonorous voice, delivered a few thoughts in the pastoral style, relative to the rushes among which it was the intention of himself and Mrs Blimber to dwell, and the bee that would hum around their cot. Shortly after which, as the Doctor's eyes were twinkling in a remarkable manner, and his son-in-law had already observed that time was made for slaves, and had inquired whether Mrs Toots sang, the discreet Mrs Blimber dissolved the sitting, and sent Cornelia away, very cool and comfortable, in a post-chaise, with the man of her heart
Mr and Mrs Toots withdrew to the Bedford (Mrs Toots had been there before in old times, under her maiden name of Nipper), and there found a letter, which it took Mr Toots such an enormous time to read, that Mrs Toots was frightened.
'My dear Susan,' said Mr Toots, 'fright is worse than exertion. Pray be calm!'
'Who is it from?' asked Mrs Toots.
'Why, my love,' said Mr Toots, 'it's from Captain Gills. Do not excite yourself. Walters and Miss Dombey are expected home!'
'My dear,' said Mrs Toots, raising herself quickly from the sofa, very pale, 'don't try to deceive me, for it's no use, they're come home - I see it plainly in your face!'
'She's a most extraordinary woman!' exclaimed Mr Toots, in rapturous admiration. 'You're perfectly right, my love, they have come home. Miss Dombey has seen her father, and they are reconciled!'
'Reconciled!' cried Mrs Toots, clapping her hands.
'My dear,' said Mr Toots; 'pray do not exert yourself. Do remember the medical man! Captain Gills says - at least he don't say, but I imagine, from what I can make out, he means - that Miss Dombey has brought her unfortunate father away from his old house, to one where she and Walters are living; that he is lying very ill there - supposed to be dying; and that she attends upon him night and day.'
Mrs Toots began to cry quite bitterly.
'My dearest Susan,' replied Mr Toots, 'do, do, if you possibly can, remember the medical man! If you can't, it's of no consequence - but do endeavour to!'
His wife, with her old manner suddenly restored, so pathetically entreated him to take her to her precious pet, her little mistress, her own darling, and the like, that Mr Toots, whose sympathy and admiration were of the strongest kind, consented from his very heart of hearts; and they agreed to depart immediately, and present themselves in answer to the Captain's letter.
Now some hidden sympathies of things, or some coincidences, had that day brought the Captain himself (toward whom Mr and Mrs Toots were soon journeying) into the flowery train of wedlock; not as a principal, but as an accessory. It happened accidentally, and thus:
The Captain, having seen Florence and her baby for a moment, to his unbounded content, and having had a long talk with Walter, turned out for a walk; feeling it necessary to have some solitary meditation on the changes of human affairs, and to shake his glazed hat profoundly over the fall of Mr Dombey, for whom the generosity and simplicity of his nature were awakened in a lively manner. The Captain would have been very low, indeed, on the unhappy gentleman's account, but for the recollection of the baby; which afforded him such intense satisfaction whenever it arose, that he laughed aloud as he went along the street, and, indeed, more than once, in a sudden impulse of joy, threw up his glazed hat and caught it again; much to the amazement of the spectators. The rapid alternations of light and shade to which these two conflicting subjects of reflection exposed the Captain, were so very trying to his spirits, that he felt a long walk necessary to his composure; and as there is a great deal in the influence of harmonious associations, he chose, for the scene of this walk, his old neighbourhood, down among the mast, oar, and block makers, ship-biscuit bakers, coal-whippers, pitch-kettles, sailors, canals, docks, swing-bridges, and other soothing objects.
These peaceful scenes, and particularly the region of Limehouse Hole and thereabouts, were so influential in calming the Captain, that he walked on with restored tranquillity, and was, in fact, regaling himself, under his breath, with the ballad of Lovely Peg, when, on turning a corner, he was suddenly transfixed and rendered speechless by a triumphant procession that he beheld advancing towards him.
This awful demonstration was headed by that determined woman Mrs MacStinger, who, preserving a countenance of inexorable resolution, and wearing conspicuously attached to her obdurate bosom a stupendous watch and appendages, which the Captain recognised at a glance as the property of Bunsby, conducted under her arm no other than that sagacious mariner; he, with the distraught and melancholy visage of a captive borne into a foreign land, meekly resigning himself to her will. Behind them appeared the young MacStingers, in a body, exulting. Behind them, M~ two ladies of a terrible and steadfast aspect, leading between them a short gentleman in a tall hat, who likewise exulted. In the wake, appeared Bunsby's boy, bearing umbrellas. The whole were in good marching order; and a dreadful smartness that pervaded the party would have sufficiently announced, if the intrepid countenances of the ladies had been wanting, that it was a procession of sacrifice, and that the victim was Bunsby.
The first impulse of the Captain was to run away. This also appeared to be the first impulse of Bunsby, hopeless as its execution must have proved. But a cry of recognition proceeding from the party, and Alexander MacStinger running up to the Captain with open arms, the Captain struck.
'Well, Cap'en Cuttle!' said Mrs MacStinger. 'This is indeed a meeting! I bear no malice now, Cap'en Cuttle - you needn't fear that I'm a going to cast any reflections. I hope to go to the altar in another spirit.' Here Mrs MacStinger paused, and drawing herself up, and inflating her bosom with a long breath, said, in allusion to the victim, 'My 'usband, Cap'en Cuttle!'
The abject Bunsby looked neither to the right nor to the left, nor at his bride, nor at his friend, but straight before him at nothing. The Captain putting out his hand, Bunsby put out his; but, in answer to the Captain's greeting, spake no word.
'Cap'en Cuttle,' said Mrs MacStinger, 'if you would wish to heal up past animosities, and to see the last of your friend, my 'usband, as a single person, we should be 'appy of your company to chapel. Here is a lady here,' said Mrs MacStinger, turning round to the more intrepid of the two, 'my bridesmaid, that will be glad of your protection, Cap'en Cuttle.'
The short gentleman in the tall hat, who it appeared was the husband of the other lady, and who evidently exulted at the reduction of a fellow creature to his own condition, gave place at this, and resigned the lady to Captain Cuttle. The lady immediately seized him, and, observing that there was no time to lose, gave the word, in a strong voice, to advance.
The Captain's concern for his friend, not unmingled, at first, with some concern for himself - for a shadowy terror that he might be married by violence, possessed him, until his knowledge of the service came to his relief, and remembering the legal obligation of saying, 'I will,' he felt himself personally safe so long as he resolved, if asked any question, distinctly to reply I won't' - threw him into a profuse perspiration; and rendered him, for a time, insensible to the movements of the procession, of which he now formed a feature, and to the conversation of his fair companion. But as he became less agitated, he learnt from this lady that she was the widow of a Mr Bokum, who had held an employment in the Custom House; that she was the dearest friend of Mrs MacStinger, whom she considered a pattern for her sex; that she had often heard of the Captain, and now hoped he had repented of his past life; that she trusted Mr Bunsby knew what a blessing he had gained, but that she feared men seldom did know what such blessings were, until they had lost them; with more to the same purpose.
All this time, the Captain could not but observe that Mrs Bokum kept her eyes steadily on the bridegroom, and that whenever they came near a court or other narrow turning which appeared favourable for flight, she was on the alert to cut him off if he attempted escape. The other lady, too, as well as her husband, the short gentleman with the tall hat, were plainly on guard, according to a preconcerted plan; and the wretched man was so secured by Mrs MacStinger, that any effort at self-preservation by flight was rendered futile. This, indeed, was apparent to the mere populace, who expressed their perception of the fact by jeers and cries; to all of which, the dread MacStinger was inflexibly indifferent, while Bunsby himself appeared in a state of unconsciousness.
The Captain made many attempts to accost the philosopher, if only in a monosyllable or a signal; but always failed, in consequence of the vigilance of the guard, and the difficulty, at all times peculiar to Bunsby's constitution, of having his attention aroused by any outward and visible sign whatever. Thus they approached the chapel, a neat whitewashed edifice, recently engaged by the Reverend Melchisedech Howler, who had consented, on very urgent solicitation, to give the world another two years of existence, but had informed his followers that, then, it must positively go.
While the Reverend Melchisedech was offering up some extemporary orisons, the Captain found an opportunity of growling in the bridegroom's ear:
'What cheer, my lad, what cheer?'
To which Bunsby replied, with a forgetfulness of the Reverend Melchisedech, which nothing but his desperate circumstances could have excused:
'D-----d bad,'
'Jack Bunsby,' whispered the Captain, 'do you do this here, of your own free will?'
Mr Bunsby answered 'No.'
'Why do you do it, then, my lad?' inquired the Captain, not unnaturally.
Bunsby, still looking, and always looking with an immovable countenance, at the opposite side of the world, made no reply.
'Why not sheer off?' said the Captain. 'Eh?' whispered Bunsby, with a momentary gleam of hope. 'Sheer off,' said the Captain.
'Where's the good?' retorted the forlorn sage. 'She'd capter me agen.
'Try!' replied the Captain. 'Cheer up! Come! Now's your time. Sheer off, Jack Bunsby!'
Jack Bunsby, however, instead of profiting by the advice, said in a doleful whisper:
'It all began in that there chest o' yourn. Why did I ever conwoy her into port that night?'
'My lad,' faltered the Captain, 'I thought as you had come over her; not as she had come over you. A man as has got such opinions as you have!'
Mr Bunsby merely uttered a suppressed groan.
'Come!' said the Captain, nudging him with his elbow, 'now's your time! Sheer off! I'll cover your retreat. The time's a flying. Bunsby! It's for liberty. Will you once?'
Bunsby was immovable. 'Bunsby!' whispered the Captain, 'will you twice ?' Bunsby wouldn't twice.
'Bunsby!' urged the Captain, 'it's for liberty; will you three times? Now or never!'
Bunsby didn't then, and didn't ever; for Mrs MacStinger immediately afterwards married him.
One of the most frightful circumstances of the ceremony to the Captain, was the deadly interest exhibited therein by Juliana MacStinger; and the fatal concentration of her faculties, with which that promising child, already the image of her parent, observed the whole proceedings. The Captain saw in this a succession of man-traps stretching out infinitely; a series of ages of oppression and coercion, through which the seafaring line was doomed. It was a more memorable sight than the unflinching steadiness of Mrs Bokum and the other lady, the exultation of the short gentleman in the tall hat, or even the fell inflexibility of Mrs MacStinger. The Master MacStingers understood little of what was going on, and cared less; being chiefly engaged, during the ceremony, in treading on one another's half-boots; but the contrast afforded by those wretched infants only set off and adorned the precocious woman in Juliana. Another year or two, the Captain thought, and to lodge where that child was, would be destruction.
The ceremony was concluded by a general spring of the young family on Mr Bunsby, whom they hailed by the endearing name of father, and from whom they solicited half-pence. These gushes of affection over, the procession was about to issue forth again, when it was delayed for some little time by an unexpected transport on the part of Alexander MacStinger. That dear child, it seemed, connecting a chapel with tombstones, when it was entered for any purpose apart from the ordinary religious exercises, could not be persuaded but that his mother was now to be decently interred, and lost to him for ever. In the anguish of this conviction, he screamed with astonishing force, and turned black in the face. However touching these marks of a tender disposition were to his mother, it was not in the character of that remarkable woman to permit her recognition of them to degenerate into weakness. Therefore, after vainly endeavouring to convince his reason by shakes, pokes, bawlings-out, and similar applications to his head, she led him into the air, and tried another method; which was manifested to the marriage party by a quick succession of sharp sounds, resembling applause, and subsequently, by their seeing Alexander in contact with the coolest paving-stone in the court, greatly flushed, and loudly lamenting.
The procession being then in a condition to form itself once more, and repair to Brig Place, where a marriage feast was in readiness, returned as it had come; not without the receipt, by Bunsby, of many humorous congratulations from the populace on his recently-acquired happiness. The Captain accompanied it as far as the house-door, but, being made uneasy by the gentler manner of Mrs Bokum, who, now that she was relieved from her engrossing duty - for the watchfulness and alacrity of the ladies sensibly diminished when the bridegroom was safely married - had greater leisure to show an interest in his behalf, there left it and the captive; faintly pleading an appointment, and promising to return presently. The Captain had another cause for uneasiness, in remorsefully reflecting that he had been the first means of Bunsby's entrapment, though certainly without intending it, and through his unbounded faith in the resources of that philosopher.
To go back to old Sol Gills at the wooden Midshipman's, and not first go round to ask how Mr Dombey was - albeit the house where he lay was out of London, and away on the borders of a fresh heath - was quite out of the Captain's course. So he got a lift when he was tired, and made out the journey gaily.
The blinds were pulled down, and the house so quiet, that the Captain was almost afraid to knock; but listening at the door, he heard low voices within, very near it, and, knocking softly, was admitted by Mr Toots. Mr Toots and his wife had, in fact, just arrived there; having been at the Midshipman's to seek him, and having there obtained the address.
They were not so recently arrived, but that Mrs Toots had caught the baby from somebody, taken it in her arms, and sat down on the stairs, hugging and fondling it. Florence was stooping down beside her; and no one could have said which Mrs Toots was hugging and fondling most, the mother or the child, or which was the tenderer, Florence of Mrs Toots, or Mrs Toots of her, or both of the baby; it was such a little group of love and agitation.
'And is your Pa very ill, my darling dear Miss Floy?' asked Susan.
'He is very, very ill,' said Florence. 'But, Susan, dear, you must not speak to me as you used to speak. And what's this?' said Florence, touching her clothes, in amazement. 'Your old dress, dear? Your old cap, curls, and all?'
Susan burst into tears, and showered kisses on the little hand that had touched her so wonderingly.
'My dear Miss Dombey,' said Mr Toots, stepping forward, 'I'll explain. She's the most extraordinary woman. There are not many to equal her! She has always said - she said before we were married, and has said to this day - that whenever you came home, she'd come to you in no dress but the dress she used to serve you in, for fear she might seem strange to you, and you might like her less. I admire the dress myself,' said Mr Toots, 'of all things. I adore her in it! My dear Miss Dombey, she'll be your maid again, your nurse, all that she ever was, and more. There's no change in her. But, Susan, my dear,' said Mr Toots, who had spoken with great feeling and high admiration, 'all I ask is, that you'll remember the medical man, and not exert yourself too much!'
布林伯博士和夫人每半年举行一次隆重的庆祝典礼，他们恭请在那所高贵的学校中学习的每一位年轻的先生们光临一个早晚会，7点半开始，在晚会上举行四对舞，大约在这个时候，这个庆祝典礼已经按时举行过了；这些年轻的先生们没有轻浮地表露出任何不得体的狂喜，已装满一肚子学问，回到自己家里去。斯凯特尔斯先生这时已前往国外，为他的家庭永远增光；他的父亲巴尼特•斯凯特尔斯爵士由于深孚众望的举止风度，被任命为一个外交官，他和斯凯特尔斯夫人一起履行着这个光荣的职务，甚至他们本国的男同胞们和女同胞们都感到满意，这一点大家都认为几乎是一个奇迹。托泽先生现在是一位身材高大的年轻人，穿着惠灵顿长靴，脑子里装满了古代的风习制度，因而他在英语知识方面只跟一位真正的古代的罗马人不相上下；他在古代风习制度方面所取得的这个了不起的成就使他善良的双亲深受感动，也使布里格斯先生的父母把他们羞愧的脸孔掩藏起来；布里格斯先生的学识，就像整理得不好的行李，捆扎得很紧，因此他无法取得他想要得到的任何东西。这位年轻的先生从知识树上费力采集的果实由于事实上受到过很大的压力，因此它已变成一种智力上的诺福克苹果饼①，完全失去了原先的形状与滋味。比瑟斯通少爷的不幸境况现在要好受得多；当高压的机器停止工作时，它在他身上没有留下任何压痕，这是这个高压制度在他身上所产生的比较令人高兴的、不是罕见的效果；这时他正在开往孟加拉的船上，感到自己正以惊人的速度丧失记忆力；他脑子中名词词形变化的知识是否能保持到旅途终点，这是可疑的。
按照惯例，在举行晚会的那天早上，布林伯博士本来会向年轻的先生们说，“先生们，我们将在下个月的二十五日重新开始我们的学习”；但是他却打破了惯例，说，“先生们，当我们的朋友辛辛纳图斯②退隐到他的农庄去时，他没有向元老院提名任何罗马人作为他的继承人。但是这里有一位罗马人，”布林伯博士把手搁在文学士菲德先生的肩膀上说，“adolescensimprimisgravisetdoc－tus③，先生们，我，一个退隐的辛辛纳图斯，希望向我的小元老院提名他为他们未来的执政官。先生们，我们将在下个月的二十五日在文学士菲德先生的主持下，重新开始我们的学习。”布林伯博士事先曾拜访过所有的父母们，并彬彬有礼地向他们解释过这件事。年轻的先生们听他发表了这番讲话后，都发出欢呼。托泽先生代表所有的学生们，立即向博士赠送了一个银制的墨水台，并发表了一篇讲话，讲话中很少使用本国语言，但却包含了十五个拉丁语的引用语和七个希腊语的引用语；年轻的先生们当中那些年龄比较小的人对这感到不满和妒嫉，他们说，“嘿，您瞧！这对老托泽来说倒是怪不错的，但要知道他们捐出钱来并不是让老托泽卖弄自己的，是不是？老托泽为什么要与其他人不同？这又不是他的墨水台。为什么他不能把大家的财产放在那里就此了事？”他们还嘀咕着其他表示不满的话，似乎觉得称他为“老托泽”比采用其他出气的方式能得到更大的安慰。
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①诺福克苹果饼（NorfolkBiffin）：把苹果压成扁平、进行烘烤后做成的饼，它主要是在英格兰东岸的诺福克郡产生的。
②辛辛纳图斯（LuciusQuinctiusCincinatus，公元前519？——？年）：罗马政治家；他的事迹带有神秘色彩。根据历史传说，公元前458年，他被罗马城居民推举为执政官，让他去救援被埃魁人（Aegui）围困于阿尔基多斯山（Mt．Algidus）上由一位执政官率领的军队；他接到此项任命时，正在自己的小农庄上耕作；据说他在一天之内就打败了敌军，在罗马举行了凯旋式。辛辛纳图斯限定自己仅仅在领导罗马度过危机时期掌权；危机刚一解除，他便辞职返回农庄。
③（拉丁文）：一位极为庄重和有学问的年轻人。
文学士菲德先生与美丽的科妮莉亚•布林伯即将结婚这件事没有向年轻的先生们说过一个字，也没有作出过一点暗示。特别是布林伯博士，他似乎竭力装出一副仿佛没有什么消息能比这更会使他感到吃惊的神态；可是尽管如此，年轻的先生们都完全知道这个消息了；当他们离开学校前去与他们的亲属与朋友团聚时，他们都怀着敬畏的心情去跟菲德先生告别。
菲德先生极为浪漫的梦想实现了。博士决定把房屋的外面油漆一新，并彻底进行修理；也决定交出他的事业和科妮莉亚。年轻的先生们离开学校的那一天，油漆与修理工作就已开始了，现在请看！举行婚礼的这天早晨来临了，科妮莉亚戴着一副新眼镜，正等待着被领到结婚的圣坛那里去。
博士跨着博学的双腿；布林伯夫人戴着淡紫色的软帽；文学士菲德先生有着长长的指节和竖立的头发；菲德先生的哥哥、文硕士艾尔弗雷德大师将执掌婚礼；他们全都聚集在客厅里。科妮莉亚拿着香橙花，跟她的女傧相刚刚走下楼来，像过去一样，看上去腰身被勒得有些紧窄，但很迷人；这时门开了，那位弱视的年轻人用洪亮的通报道：
“图茨先生与夫人！”
“这时，长得非常肥胖的图茨先生进来了；挽着他的胳膊的是一位穿着漂亮而又得体的衣服、并有一双很明亮的黑眼睛的女士。
“布林伯夫人，”图茨先生说道，“请允许我介绍我的妻子。”
布林伯夫人高兴地接待了她。布林伯夫人稍稍有点降尊纡贵的神气，但却非常客气。
“因为您了解我已很久了，”图茨先生说道，“那就让我来肯定地对您说，她是世界上极了不起的女人之一。”
“我亲爱的，”图茨夫人表示异议地说道。
“说实话，我以荣誉发誓，她是这样的，”图茨先生说道。
“我——我肯定地对您说，布林伯夫人，她是一位极了不起的女人。”
图茨夫人愉快地大笑着；布林伯夫人把她领到科妮莉亚跟前。图茨先生向那个方向表示了敬意，并向他过去的导师致敬，他的导师暗示他的婚姻状况，说，“很好，图茨，很好，图茨！所以您是我们当中的一个了，是不是，图茨？”然后，图茨先生就跟文学士菲德先生离开大家，走到窗口。
文学士菲德先生兴致勃勃，摆出拳击的姿态，向图茨先生打了一拳，手背灵巧地轻打在他的胸骨上。
“唔，老伙计！”菲德先生大笑一声，说道。“这正是我们所要的！说了就做。对吧！”
“菲德，”图茨先生回答道。“我向您祝贺。如果您在夫妇生活中像我一样非常幸福，那么您就不会再需要什么了。”
“我不会忘记我的老朋友，您看，”菲德先生说道，“我请他们来参加我的婚礼，图茨。”
“菲德，”图茨郑重其事地回答道，“事实是，有一些情况妨碍我在举行婚礼之前跟您通信。首先，我过去跟您谈到董贝小姐的时候，我自己真成了一条畜牲。我觉得，如果我请您参加我的婚礼的话，那么您自然会以为我是跟董贝小姐结婚；那样一来就要进行好多解释；说实话，以我的荣誉发誓，在那个关键时刻，那样做就会使我感到非常痛苦！第二，我们的婚礼完全是悄悄举行的，除了我和图茨夫人的一位朋友外，没有其他人参加；这位朋友是一位船长，我不清楚他是在那里工作的，”图茨先生说道，“但这无关紧要。菲德，图茨夫人和我本人出国旅游之前，我曾写信把发生的事情告诉了您；我希望，我这样做已完全尽到一位朋友的责任了。”
“图茨，我的朋友，”菲德先生握握他的手，说道，“我是跟您开玩笑。”
“现在，菲德，”图茨先生说道，“我将高兴地了解一下您对我的婚姻有什么看法。”
“好极了！”菲德先生回答道。
“您认为好极了，是不是，菲德？”图茨先生一本正经地说道。“那么我更该认为它好极了！因为您永远也不会知道，她是一位多么了不起的女人。”
菲德先生很乐意地认为，这是当然的，不成问题的；但是图茨先生摇摇头，认为菲德先生是不可能知道这一点的。
“您知道，”图茨先生说，“我对妻子需要的是，总之，是智慧。钱，我有，菲德，智慧，我——我却格外缺乏。”
菲德先生低声说，“啊，不，您有的，图茨！”可是图茨先生说道：
“没有，菲德，我没有。我为什么要假装有？我没有。我知道智慧在那里，”图茨先生伸出手指指他的妻子，“一大堆。我没有任何亲属因为我们的身份不同来反对我的婚姻，或者生我的气，因为我没有亲属；除了我的监护人外，从来没有什么人是属于我的，而这位监护人我一直认为他是一个海盗和海贼。菲德，所以，您知道，”图茨先生说道，“当时我不可能去跟他商量，听他的意见。”
“当然，”菲德先生说道。
“因此，”图茨先生继续说道，“我是按照我自己的意见来办的。我办这件事的那一天是多么幸福啊！菲德！除了我本人，没有人能知道这女人的脑子有多么聪明。如果有一天人们适当注意妇女的权利或所有这一类的东西的话，那么那将是由于她那高超的智慧才做到的。苏珊，我亲爱的！”图茨先生立刻将眼光从窗帘移开，“请别把你自己搞累了！”
“我亲爱的，”图茨夫人说道，“我只是在谈话。”
“可是我亲爱的，”图茨先生说道，“请别把自己搞累了。你确实必须小心。我亲爱的苏珊，请别把你自己搞累了。她很容易兴奋，”图茨先生对布林伯夫人说道，“那时她就把医生的话全都忘了。”
布林伯夫人正在开导图茨夫人必须谨慎小心的时候，文学士菲德先生向她伸出手，扶着她下楼到四轮马车那里，那马车正等待着开往教堂去。布林伯博士扶着图茨夫人。图茨先生扶着美丽的新娘，在她闪闪发光的眼镜周围，两位小女傧相穿着轻薄透明的衣衫，像飞蛾一样地飞来飞去。菲德先生的哥哥、文硕士艾尔弗雷德•菲德先生早已先走，以便去执行他的职务。
婚礼进行得非常好。科妮莉亚留着短短的、起着波纹的卷发，十分沉着冷静，就像斗鸡可能会说的，“进场了”。布林伯博士则像是一位下定决心的人那样，把她交给了新郎。两位穿着轻薄透明的衣衫的小女傧相似乎比所有其他的人更感到痛苦。布林伯夫人心情稍稍有点激动，但还是平静的，在回家的路上她跟大师、文硕士艾尔弗雷德先生说，如果她只要能在西塞罗退隐在图斯库卢姆的时候见到他的话，那么她现在就没有一个没有满足的愿望了。
然后是早餐，仍然是同样的一小群人参加。这时文学士菲德先生的情绪极高，而且传播到图茨夫人，因此好几次听到图茨先生越过桌面对她说，“我亲爱的苏珊，别把你自己搞累了！”最妙的是，图茨先生觉得自己义不容辞地需要发表讲话，所以不顾图茨夫人向他发来的一连串劝阻的电报暗码，还是平生第一次站起来致词。
“在这个屋子里，”图茨先生说道，“不论在这里做了些什么，有时使我思想混乱，那是无关紧要的，我也不责怪任何人——在这个屋子里大家经常这样对待我，就像我是布林伯博士家庭中的一个成员一样，而且在相当长的一段时间中我还有一张自己的书桌，所以今天——当我的朋友菲德——”
图茨夫人提示道，“结婚。”
“可能在这个场合说不是不适当的，或者不是完全没有兴趣的，”图茨先生露出高兴的脸色，说道，“我想说，我的妻子是个了不起的女人，这件事她可能会比我做得更好——今天当我的朋友菲德先生跟——跟——”
图茨夫人提示道，“跟布林伯小姐结婚。”
“跟菲德夫人结婚，我亲爱的！”图茨先生用私下讨论的低声说道，“‘上帝已经把他们结合在一起了，’你知道，‘不让一个人’——你不知道吗？今天当我的朋友菲德——特别是跟菲德夫人结婚的时候，我不允许不建议举杯向他们——祝酒，愿，”图茨先生眼睛盯着他的妻子，仿佛在等待灵感迅速飞临似的。“愿婚姻之神的火炬是快乐的灯塔，愿我们今天在他们道路上所撒下的花朵是——消愁释忧的雨露！”布林伯博士是爱好隐喻的，所以听了很高兴，说，“很好，图茨！确实说得很好，图茨！”同时点点头，轻轻地拍拍手。菲德先生发表了一副滑稽好笑，但却充满感情的谈话作答；然后文学硕士艾尔弗雷德•菲德先生祝布林伯博士和夫人非常幸福；文学士菲德先生祝穿着轻薄透明的衣衫的小女傧相同样幸福。然后，布林伯博士用洪亮的、田园诗的风格，发表了他的一些想法，他谈到他本人和布林伯夫人打算居住在灯心草丛中间，还谈到蜜蜂将在他们小屋周围嗡嗡飞鸣。在这之后不久，因为博士的眼睛令人注目地闪烁着亮光，他的女婿已经说过时间是为奴隶们创造的，也已问过图茨夫人是不是要唱歌，所以考虑周到的布林伯夫人就解散了这个聚会，把科妮莉亚跟她的心上人一起送进一个很凉爽很舒适的驿马车中。
图茨先生与夫人离开以后前往贝德福德旅馆（图茨夫人过去当她还是称为尼珀姑娘的时候，曾在那里待过），他们在那里收到一封信；图茨先生花了那么长久的时候念它，图茨夫人都因此感到惊恐了。
“我亲爱的苏珊，”图茨先生说道，“惊恐比兴奋更坏。请镇静下来！”
“谁写来的信？”图茨夫人问道。
“啊，我亲爱的，”图茨先生说道，“这是吉尔斯船长写来的信。别激动。他们正等待着沃尔特斯与董贝小姐回家来！”
“我亲爱的，”图茨夫人脸色很苍白，并迅速地从沙发上站起来，说道，“别想欺骗我了，因为那是没有用的。我已在你的脸上看得清清楚楚，他们已经回到家里来了。”
“她是个极了不起的女人！”图茨先生欢天喜地，非常钦佩地大声喊道，“你完全说对了，我亲爱的，他们已经回家了。
董贝小姐已经见到了她的父亲，他们已经和好了！”
“和好了！”图茨夫人拍着手，喊道。
“我亲爱的，”图茨先生说道，“请别把你自己搞累了。请记住医生的话！吉尔斯船长说——他没有直接这么说，不过根据我的理解，我想，他的意思是说——董贝小姐已经把她不幸的父亲从他的老房屋中接出来，接到她与沃尔特斯居住的一个房屋里；还说他躺在那里，病得很重——大概他已垂危，还说她日夜侍候着他。”
图茨夫人开始很悲伤地哭泣。
“我最亲爱的苏珊，”图茨先生回答道，“如果你可能的话，那么请，请，请记住医生的话！如果你不能记住的话，那么这是无关紧要的——但还是请您努力把它记住吧！”
她的妻子突然恢复了她过去的态度，非常可怜地恳求他把她带到她的可爱的宝贝、她的小女主人、她的亲爱的人等等那里去；图茨先生对她怀着强烈的同情与钦佩，因此由衷地表示同意；他们一致决定立即出发，亲自出现在船长面前，作为对他来信的答复。
图茨先生与夫人不久就动身到他那里去了。那一天，船长本人出于某种隐秘的同情心，或者由于某些巧合，不是以主要当事人的身份，而是以次要人物的身份，参加了一场隆重的结婚典礼。这件事是这样偶然发生的：
船长对弗洛伦斯与她的婴孩看了一会儿，感到无限满意，又跟沃尔特长时间地谈了话之后，就出去散步；他感到有必要对人们命运的变化独自进行一些思考，并对董贝先生的破家荡产意味深长地挥挥他那顶上了光的帽子；他生性宽厚、纯朴，所以对董贝先生深表同情。是的，要不是回想起那个婴孩的话，那么船长本会因为那位不幸的先生而情绪十分低落的；可是每当那个婴孩的记忆浮现在他心头的时候，他就感到极为高兴，因此当他沿着街道走着的时候，他高声大笑着。确实，在喜悦的突然冲动下，他不止一次把那顶上了光的帽子向上抛去，然后又接住它，使看到这种情景的人都感到十分惊奇。回忆中这两个相互冲突的主题时而把他投向光明，时而又把他投向阴影；这种迅速的交替变化，使他的心情十分难受；因此他觉得需要长时间的散步才能使自己镇静下来。由于赏心悦目的联想能够起很大作用，所以他就决定散步到他往日住所的邻近地区中去，那里住着制造桅、桨和滑车的工匠、烘烤船上硬饼干的师傅，给船装卸煤炭的工人和船员；那里可以看到熬沥青的锅、运河、船坞、旋桥以及其他能给人以安慰的东西。
这些宁静的风景，特别是石灰窑洞及附近的地区，对稳定船长的情绪起了很大的作用；他怀着重新平静的心情，向前走去；实际上，他还低声哼唱着《可爱的佩格姑娘》这支歌曲使自己快活起来；正在这个时候，一支喜气洋洋的队伍向他迎面走来，他看到了这个场面，突然间惊吓得不能动弹，一句话也说不出来。
这支可怕的队伍由那位性格刚毅的女人麦克斯廷杰领头；她保持着她那不屈不挠的坚决的神色，在她那顽固的胸前显眼地佩挂着一只大表和表链坠，船长一眼看出那是邦斯贝的财物。她在胳膊中挽着的不是别人，就是那位智慧超群的海员；他露出一个被解往他乡异国的俘虏的心神错乱、郁郁不乐的表情，逆来顺受地听从她随意摆布。在他们后面的是一群兴高采烈的小麦克斯廷杰们。在他们后面，两位外貌可怕而神色坚定的女士伴随着一位身材矮小的戴大礼帽的先生，他也兴高采烈。在末尾，是邦斯贝的男孩子，扛着好多伞。整个队伍秩序井然地向前行进。即便没有女士们那种勇猛无畏的外貌，这支队伍那种惊人的麻利劲儿也足以宣布，这是一支献祭的队列，祭品就是邦斯贝。
船长的第一个冲动是逃走。这似乎也是邦斯贝的第一个冲动，虽然从实际执行情况来看，这种尝试想必已经证明是毫无希望的。可是从队伍中发出了一声认识船长的喊声，亚历山大•麦克斯廷杰伸出两只胳膊，跑到船长跟前，船长被当场逮住了。
“唔，卡特尔船长！”麦克斯廷杰太太说道。“想不到会在这里相遇！我现在对您不怀恶意。卡特尔船长——您不用害怕，我不想提起往事，对您进行指责。我希望以另一种心情走向圣坛。”麦克斯廷杰太太说到这里停了一下，挺直了身体，长长地吸了一口气，她的胸脯因而就膨胀了起来，然后她指指那个祭品说，“这是我的丈夫，卡特尔船长。”
不幸的邦斯贝既没有向右边看，也没有向左边看；既没有看他的新娘，也没有看他的朋友，而是毫无目的地直望着前面。船长伸出手，邦斯贝也伸出了手来，但没有说一句话来回答船长的问候。
“卡特尔船长，”麦克斯廷杰太太说道，“如果您希望了结您过去的怨仇，并看看您的朋友，我的丈夫是怎样结束单身汉生活的话，那么我们很高兴您能陪同我们到小教堂去。这里有一位女士，”麦克斯廷杰转向两位女士当中更为勇猛的一位，说道，“她是我的女傧相；有您保护她，她一定会很高兴的，卡特尔船长。”
那位身材矮小的戴大礼帽的先生看来是另一位女士的丈夫；他看到他的一位同胞被降低到跟他同等的身份，显然喜出望外，就让出位子，把那位女士交给卡特尔船长照顾。那位女士立刻抓住他，说，时间不能耽误了，同时高声命令向前走。
船长对他朋友的忧虑最初还夹杂着几分对他自己的忧虑，因为一种惟恐自己也会被强迫结婚的模糊的恐怖使他流出了满身大汗，后来还是他对宗教仪式的知识才把他从这种忧虑中解救了出来。因为他记起只有说了“我愿意”这三个字才能承担法律上的责任，并决定在被问到任何问题的时候都将一清二楚地回答“我不愿意”，因此他就感到自己安全无恙了。在他原先怀有忧虑的情况下，他曾经有一段时间没有感觉到如今他也是其中一员的队伍正在行进，也没有听到他那位女伴的谈话。但当他心情稍稍安定下来以后，他从这位女士那里知道，她是曾经在海关就职的博库姆先生的寡妇，也是麦克斯廷杰太太最亲爱的朋友；她认为麦克斯廷杰太太是她们女性的楷模；她常常听到她谈起船长，希望现在他已悔恨过去所过的生活；她希望邦斯贝先生知道他已获得了何等的幸福，但是她害怕男人在失去这种幸福之前很少知道这种幸福是什么，还谈了其他这一类内容的话。
在所有这些时间中，船长不能不注意到，博库姆太太的眼睛一直牢牢盯着新郎；每当他们走进一个院子或其他便于逃跑的狭窄的转弯处时，她就密切提防着；如果他企图溜脱的话，那么她就切断他的后路。另一位女士，以及她的丈夫，那位身材矮小、戴大礼帽的先生，也按照预定的计划，同样明显地在警戒着；那位可怜的人则被麦克斯廷杰太太牢牢抓紧，任何想要靠逃跑来保全自己的企图都是枉费心机。甚至过路的普通老百姓对这也看得一清二楚，他们发出嘲笑和叫喊来表达他们对这个事实的感受，但可怕的麦克斯廷杰对这一切满不在乎，毫不妥协，邦斯贝本人则好像处在一种不知不觉的状态中。
船长作了好多尝试来跟这位才智出众的人打招呼，哪怕是说一个单音节的词或者是做个手势也好；可是因为守卫人员保持着警惕，也因为邦斯贝一向特殊的性格，难于用任何外面的可见的暗号来引起他的注意，所以他的尝试总是失败。这样他们就到达了小教堂；那是一座整洁的、涂刷了白粉的大建筑物，最近被梅尔奇斯代克•豪勒尔大师租用过；他在大家十分坚持的请求下，同意把世界末日再延长两年，但是他告诉他的信徒们，到那时候，世界肯定要毁灭了。
当梅尔奇斯代克大师正在做一个即席祷告的时候，船长找到一个机会在新郎的耳旁用低沉的说道：
“最近的情况怎么样，我的朋友，最近的情况怎么样？”
邦斯贝忘记了梅尔奇斯代克大师（这只能用他的绝望处境来解释），回答道：
“糟透了。”
“杰克•邦斯贝先生，”船长低声问道：“您到这里来是出于您的自愿吗？”
邦斯贝先生回答道，“不是。”
“那么您为什么要到这里来，我的朋友？”船长自然而然地提出了这个问题。
邦斯贝仍然在看着，而且一直以呆板的神情看着这个世界的对面，没有回答。
“为什么不掉转船头，离开航道？”船长问道。
“嗯？”邦斯贝怀着一线希望，低声说道。
“离开航道，”船长说道。
“有什么用？”孤独无助的聪明人回答道，“她又把我抓住了。”
“试一试！”船长回答道。“别灰心丧气！来吧！现在是您的好时机。离开航道吧，杰克•邦斯贝！”
可是杰克•邦斯贝没有听从这个劝告，而是悲伤地低声说道：
“都是从您的箱子开始的。我为什么那天夜里要把她护送回家呢？”
“我的朋友，”船长结结巴巴地说道，“我原以为是您战胜了她，而不是她战胜了您。您是个这样见多识广的聪明人！”
邦斯贝先生只是发出一声压抑住的呼声。
“来吧！”船长用胳膊肘轻轻地推推他，说道，“现在是您的好时机！离开航道吧！我将会掩护您的退路。现在是逃走的时候！邦斯贝！这是为了自由。下决心吧！一！”
邦斯贝一动不动。
“邦斯贝，”船长低声说道，“下决心吧！二！”
拜期贝第二次没有动。
“邦斯贝！”船长催促道，“这是为了自由；下决心吧！三！
要么现在逃走，要么永远也逃走不了了！”
邦斯贝那时还没有动，而且永远也不动了，因为麦克斯廷杰在这之后立即跟他结了婚。
在婚礼中船长感到最可怕的情况之一是朱莉安娜•麦克斯廷杰对婚礼所显示出的极大的兴趣，以及这位很有前途、现在已经是她母亲的翻版的孩子在观察整个程序进行时所表现出的不详的专心致志。船长从这当中看到了捕获男子的圈套正接连不断、无穷无尽地伸展开来；也看到了海员们世世代代所受的压制与胁迫，它注定了海运事业必然的命运。这景象比博库姆太太和另一位女士的坚定无畏的神态，比那位身材矮小的戴大礼帽的先生的兴高采烈的情绪，或甚至比麦克斯廷杰太太的凶恶而又坚强的性格更使他难忘。年幼的麦克斯廷杰们对正在进行的事情很不了解，更不关心，在仪式进行过程中主要在相互踩半高统靴；但是这些可怜的小儿们的行为只是更加衬托出和点缀了朱莉安娜身上所显露出的发育过早的妇女的征象。船长想，再过一、两年，居住在这些孩子们的家里将会遭到毁灭。
婚礼结束的时候，所有年轻的家庭成员们都跳跃着拥到邦斯贝先生身前，亲切地称他为爸爸，向他欢呼，并从他那里讨取半便士。这些感情洋溢的场面过去之后，队伍准备又要出发，这时由于亚历山大•麦克斯廷杰意想不到地极度悲痛，因此把出发时间稍稍推迟了一些时候。看来，这个可爱的孩子把小教堂跟墓碑联系起来了；他认为进小教堂的目的如果不是像平时那样去做礼拜的话，那么他就以为他的母亲即将被庄重地埋葬，他将永远失去她了；他因为确信这一点，心中十分痛苦，就用令人惊奇的气力，拼命大哭，脸色都发青了。这种亲切的感情的表露不管多么使他的母亲感动，但这位杰出的女人的性格却不允许她的赞许退化为软弱。所以，她为了开导他醒悟，对他的头进行摇晃，刺戳，责骂以及采取其他类似的措施仍然失效之后，就把他拉到新鲜空气中，试用另一种方法；婚礼的参加者们听到迅速传来了接连不断的尖锐的类似鼓掌的，然后他们看到亚历山大接触到庭院中极冷的铺路石，脸孔涨得通红，高声痛哭起来。
然后，队伍又重新排好，并向结婚筵席已摆好的布里格广场进发；它按照来的次序回去，路旁的人群向邦斯贝发出了许多诙谐的祝贺，恭喜他新近获得的幸福。船长一直陪送到住宅门口；但是博库姆太太愈来愈亲热的态度使他感到不安，因为这位女士已经从她全神贯注的任务中解脱出来（由于新郎已经平安无事地结了婚，女士们的警惕与戒备因而都明显地减弱了），所以腾得出空闲的时间来对他表露兴趣，于是他就在那里用微弱的，以另有约会作为借口，离开了那个住所和那位俘虏，并答应很快就回来。船长还有一个不安的理由，就是他后悔地回想起，邦斯贝被俘首先是他促成的；虽然他确实并非有意要去促成，而是他对这位才智超群的人的智慧无限信任的结果。
直接回到木制海军军官候补生的家里去看望老所尔•吉尔斯，而不首先绕道去打听一下董贝先生的情况怎样，这不是船长所想选择的路线；尽管董贝先生躺着养病的房屋是在伦敦近郊，一块荒野的边缘，他也还是要去。所以当他已走累了的时候，他就在半路得到一个人的帮助，搭了他的车，愉快地完成了其余的旅程。
窗帘已经拉下来，房屋十分寂静，因此船长几乎害怕敲门；但是他挨着门静听，听到里面靠近门口的地方有轻微的，所以就轻轻地敲了一下。图茨先生前来开门。实际上，图茨先生和他的妻子刚刚才到达那里；他们首先到海军军官候补生那里找他，并从那里得到这个住址。
虽然他们不久前才到达那里，但图茨夫人已经从什么人那里把婴孩抓到手，把他抱在怀里，坐在楼梯上，搂着他，爱抚着他。弗洛伦斯在她身旁，向他们弯下身子；谁也不知道，图茨夫人搂得最多，爱抚得最多的是谁，是母亲还是婴儿；谁也不知道，谁最爱谁，是弗洛伦斯最爱图茨夫人，还是图茨夫人最爱弗洛伦斯，还是两个人最爱这小婴孩；这几个人满怀着深情与激动。
“您的爸爸病得很重吗，我亲爱的宝贝弗洛伊小姐？”苏珊问道。
“他病得很重，很重，”弗洛伦斯说道。“但是，苏珊，亲爱的，您不应该像过去那样对我说话。啊，这是什么？”弗洛伦斯惊奇地摸摸她的衣服，说道，“这是您过去的旧衣服吗，亲爱的？这是您过去的帽子，卷发，一切都是过去的吗？”
苏珊突然泪流满脸，大哭起来，并在那只十分惊异地抚摸着她的小手上像阵雨一般地不断吻着。
“我亲爱的董贝小姐，”图茨先生向前走了一步，说道，“我来向您解释。她是一位极了不起的女人。没有多少人能比得上她！她经常说——她在我们结婚之前就说了，一直说到今天——，您不论什么时候回到家里，她都要来看您；她不穿别的衣服，而只穿她过去服侍您时穿过的衣服，因为唯恐不这样她在您面前就会显得生疏起来，也唯恐您会不像过去那么喜欢她。我本人赞美这衣服，”图茨先生说道，“我喜欢她穿着它！我亲爱的董贝小姐，她将重新做您的侍女，您的保姆，以及她过去曾做过的一切。她没有变。”图茨先生怀着伟大的感情与崇高的钦佩的心情，说了这些话以后，又说道，“但是，苏珊，我亲爱的，我所要请求的只是，您要记住医生的话，不要把自己搞得太累了。”
Chapter 61
 Relenting
Florence had need of help. Her father's need of it was sore, and made the aid of her old friend invaluable. Death stood at his pillow. A shade, already, of what he had been, shattered in mind, and perilously sick in body, he laid his weary head down on the bed his daughter's hands prepared for him, and had never raised it since.
She was always with him. He knew her, generally; though, in the wandering of his brain, he often confused the circumstances under which he spoke to her. Thus he would address her, sometimes, as if his boy were newly dead; and would tell her, that although he had said nothing of her ministering at the little bedside, yet he had seen it - he had seen it; and then would hide his face and sob, and put out his worn hand. Sometimes he would ask her for herself. 'Where is Florence?' 'I am here, Papa, I am here.' 'I don't know her!' he would cry. 'We have been parted so long, that I don't know her!' and then a staring dread would he upon him, until she could soothe his perturbation; and recall the tears she tried so hard, at other times, to dry.
He rambled through the scenes of his old pursuits - through many where Florence lost him as she listened - sometimes for hours. He would repeat that childish question, 'What is money?' and ponder on it, and think about it, and reason with himself, more or less connectedly, for a good answer; as if it had never been proposed to him until that moment. He would go on with a musing repetition of the title of his old firm twenty thousand times, and at every one of them, would turn his head upon his pillow. He would count his children - one - two - stop, and go back, and begin again in the same way.
But this was when his mind was in its most distracted state. In all the other phases of its illness, and in those to which it was most constant, it always turned on Florence. What he would oftenest do was this: he would recall that night he had so recently remembered, the night on which she came down to his room, and would imagine that his heart smote him, and that he went out after her, and up the stairs to seek her. Then, confounding that time with the later days of the many footsteps, he would be amazed at their number, and begin to count them as he followed her. Here, of a sudden, was a bloody footstep going on among the others; and after it there began to be, at intervals, doors standing open, through which certain terrible pictures were seen, in mirrors, of haggard men, concealing something in their breasts. Still, among the many footsteps and the bloody footsteps here and there, was the step of Florence. Still she was going on before. Still the restless mind went, following and counting, ever farther, ever higher, as to the summit of a mighty tower that it took years to climb.
One day he inquired if that were not Susan who had spoken a long while ago.
Florence said 'Yes, dear Papa;' and asked him would he like to see her?
He said 'very much.' And Susan, with no little trepidation, showed herself at his bedside.
It seemed a great relief to him. He begged her not to go; to understand that he forgave her what she had said; and that she was to stay. Florence and he were very different now, he said, and very happy. Let her look at this! He meant his drawing the gentle head down to his pillow, and laying it beside him.
He remained like this for days and weeks. At length, lying, the faint feeble semblance of a man, upon his bed, and speaking in a voice so low that they could only hear him by listening very near to his lips, he became quiet. It was dimly pleasant to him now, to lie there, with the window open, looking out at the summer sky and the trees: and, in the evening, at the sunset. To watch the shadows of the clouds and leaves, and seem to feel a sympathy with shadows. It was natural that he should. To him, life and the world were nothing else.
He began to show now that he thought of Florence's fatigue: and often taxed his weakness to whisper to her, 'Go and walk, my dearest, in the sweet air. Go to your good husband!' One time when Walter was in his room, he beckoned him to come near, and to stoop down; and pressing his hand, whispered an assurance to him that he knew he could trust him with his child when he was dead.
It chanced one evening, towards sunset, when Florence and Walter were sitting in his room together, as he liked to see them, that Florence, having her baby in her arms, began in a low voice to sing to the little fellow, and sang the old tune she had so often sung to the dead child: He could not bear it at the time; he held up his trembling hand, imploring her to stop; but next day he asked her to repeat it, and to do so often of an evening: which she did. He listening, with his face turned away.
Florence was sitting on a certain time by his window, with her work-basket between her and her old attendant, who was still her faithful companion. He had fallen into a doze. It was a beautiful evening, with two hours of light to come yet; and the tranquillity and quiet made Florence very thoughtful. She was lost to everything for the moment, but the occasion when the so altered figure on the bed had first presented her to her beautiful Mama; when a touch from Walter leaning on the back of her chair, made her start.
'My dear,' said Walter, 'there is someone downstairs who wishes to speak to you.
She fancied Walter looked grave, and asked him if anything had happened.
'No, no, my love!' said Walter. 'I have seen the gentleman myself, and spoken with him. Nothing has happened. Will you come?'
Florence put her arm through his; and confiding her father to the black-eyed Mrs Toots, who sat as brisk and smart at her work as black-eyed woman could, accompanied her husband downstairs. In the pleasant little parlour opening on the garden, sat a gentleman, who rose to advance towards her when she came in, but turned off, by reason of some peculiarity in his legs, and was only stopped by the table.
Florence then remembered Cousin Feenix, whom she had not at first recognised in the shade of the leaves. Cousin Feenix took her hand, and congratulated her upon her marriage.
'I could have wished, I am sure,' said Cousin Feenix, sitting down as Florence sat, to have had an earlier opportunity of offering my congratulations; but, in point of fact, so many painful occurrences have happened, treading, as a man may say, on one another's heels, that I have been in a devil of a state myself, and perfectly unfit for every description of society. The only description of society I have kept, has been my own; and it certainly is anything but flattering to a man's good opinion of his own sources, to know that, in point of fact, he has the capacity of boring himself to a perfectly unlimited extent.'
Florence divined, from some indefinable constraint and anxiety in this gentleman's manner - which was always a gentleman's, in spite of the harmless little eccentricities that attached to it - and from Walter's manner no less, that something more immediately tending to some object was to follow this.
'I have been mentioning to my friend Mr Gay, if I may be allowed to have the honour of calling him so,' said Cousin Feenix, 'that I am rejoiced to hear that my friend Dombey is very decidedly mending. I trust my friend Dombey will not allow his mind to be too much preyed upon, by any mere loss of fortune. I cannot say that I have ever experienced any very great loss of fortune myself: never having had, in point of fact, any great amount of fortune to lose. But as much as I could lose, I have lost; and I don't find that I particularly care about it. I know my friend Dombey to be a devilish honourable man; and it's calculated to console my friend Dombey very much, to know, that this is the universal sentiment. Even Tommy Screwzer, - a man of an extremely bilious habit, with whom my friend Gay is probably acquainted - cannot say a syllable in disputation of the fact.'
Florence felt, more than ever, that there was something to come; and looked earnestly for it. So earnestly, that Cousin Feenix answered, as if she had spoken.
'The fact is,' said Cousin Feenix, 'that my friend Gay and myself have been discussing the propriety of entreating a favour at your hands; and that I have the consent of my friend Gay - who has met me in an exceedingly kind and open manner, for which I am very much indebted to him - to solicit it. I am sensible that so amiable a lady as the lovely and accomplished daughter of my friend Dombey will not require much urging; but I am happy to know, that I am supported by my friend Gay's influence and approval. As in my parliamentary time, when a man had a motion to make of any sort - which happened seldom in those days, for we were kept very tight in hand, the leaders on both sides being regular Martinets, which was a devilish good thing for the rank and file, like myself, and prevented our exposing ourselves continually, as a great many of us had a feverish anxiety to do - as' in my parliamentary time, I was about to say, when a man had leave to let off any little private popgun, it was always considered a great point for him to say that he had the happiness of believing that his sentiments were not without an echo in the breast of Mr Pitt; the pilot, in point of fact, who had weathered the storm. Upon which, a devilish large number of fellows immediately cheered, and put him in spirits. Though the fact is, that these fellows, being under orders to cheer most excessively whenever Mr Pitt's name was mentioned, became so proficient that it always woke 'em. And they were so entirely innocent of what was going on, otherwise, that it used to be commonly said by Conversation Brown - four-bottle man at the Treasury Board, with whom the father of my friend Gay was probably acquainted, for it was before my friend Gay's time - that if a man had risen in his place, and said that he regretted to inform the house that there was an Honourable Member in the last stage of convulsions in the Lobby, and that the Honourable Member's name was Pitt, the approbation would have been vociferous.'
This postponement of the point, put Florence in a flutter; and she looked from Cousin Feenix to Walter, in increasing agitatioN
'My love,' said Walter, 'there is nothing the matter.
'There is nothing the matter, upon my honour,' said Cousin Feenix; 'and I am deeply distressed at being the means of causing you a moment's uneasiness. I beg to assure you that there is nothing the matter. The favour that I have to ask is, simply - but it really does seem so exceedingly singular, that I should be in the last degree obliged to my friend Gay if he would have the goodness to break the - in point of fact, the ice,' said Cousin Feenix.
Walter thus appealed to, and appealed to no less in the look that Florence turned towards him, said:
'My dearest, it is no more than this. That you will ride to London with this gentleman, whom you know.
'And my friend Gay, also - I beg your pardon!' interrupted Cousin Feenix.
And with me - and make a visit somewhere.'
'To whom?' asked Florence, looking from one to the other.
'If I might entreat,' said Cousin Feenix, 'that you would not press for an answer to that question, I would venture to take the liberty of making the request.'
'Do you know, Walter?'
'Yes.'
'And think it right?'
'Yes. Only because I am sure that you would too. Though there may be reasons I very well understand, which make it better that nothing more should be said beforehand.'
'If Papa is still asleep, or can spare me if he is awake, I will go immediately,' said Florence. And rising quietly, and glancing at them with a look that was a little alarmed but perfectly confiding, left the room.
When she came back, ready to bear them company, they were talking together, gravely, at the window; and Florence could not but wonder what the topic was, that had made them so well acquainted in so short a time. She did not wonder at the look of pride and love with which her husband broke off as she entered; for she never saw him, but that rested on her.
'I will leave,' said Cousin Feenix, 'a card for my friend Dombey, sincerely trusting that he will pick up health and strength with every returning hour. And I hope my friend Dombey will do me the favour to consider me a man who has a devilish warm admiration of his character, as, in point of fact, a British merchant and a devilish upright gentleman. My place in the country is in a most confounded state of dilapidation, but if my friend Dombey should require a change of air, and would take up his quarters there, he would find it a remarkably healthy spot - as it need be, for it's amazingly dull. If my friend Dombey suffers from bodily weakness, and would allow me to recommend what has frequently done myself good, as a man who has been extremely queer at times, and who lived pretty freely in the days when men lived very freely, I should say, let it be in point of fact the yolk of an egg, beat up with sugar and nutmeg, in a glass of sherry, and taken in the morning with a slice of dry toast. Jackson, who kept the boxing-rooms in Bond Street - man of very superior qualifications, with whose reputation my friend Gay is no doubt acquainted - used to mention that in training for the ring they substituted rum for sherry. I should recommend sherry in this case, on account of my friend Dombey being in an invalided condition; which might occasion rum to fly - in point of fact to his head - and throw him into a devil of a state.'
Of all this, Cousin Feenix delivered himself with an obviously nervous and discomposed air. Then, giving his arm to Florence, and putting the strongest possible constraint upon his wilful legs, which seemed determined to go out into the garden, he led her to the door, and handed her into a carriage that was ready for her reception.
Walter entered after him, and they drove away.
Their ride was six or eight miles long. When they drove through certain dull and stately streets, lying westward in London, it was growing dusk. Florence had, by this time, put her hand in Walter's; and was looking very earnestly, and with increasing agitation, into every new street into which they turned.
When the carriage stopped, at last, before that house in Brook Street, where her father's unhappy marriage had been celebrated, Florence said, 'Walter, what is this? Who is here?' Walter cheering her, and not replying, she glanced up at the house-front, and saw that all the windows were shut, as if it were uninhabited. Cousin Feenix had by this time alighted, and was offering his hand.
'Are you not coming, Walter?'
'No, I will remain here. Don't tremble there is nothing to fear, dearest Florence.'
'I know that, Walter, with you so near. I am sure of that, but - '
The door was softly opened, without any knock, and Cousin Feenix led her out of the summer evening air into the close dull house. More sombre and brown than ever, it seemed to have been shut up from the wedding-day, and to have hoarded darkness and sadness ever since.
Florence ascended the dusky staircase, trembling; and stopped, with her conductor, at the drawing-room door. He opened it, without speaking, and signed an entreaty to her to advance into the inner room, while he remained there. Florence, after hesitating an instant, complied.
Sitting by the window at a table, where she seemed to have been writing or drawing, was a lady, whose head, turned away towards the dying light, was resting on her hand. Florence advancing, doubtfully, all at once stood still, as if she had lost the power of motion. The lady turned her head.
'Great Heaven!' she said, 'what is this?'
'No, no!' cried Florence, shrinking back as she rose up and putting out her hands to keep her off. 'Mama!'
They stood looking at each other. Passion and pride had worn it, but it was the face of Edith, and beautiful and stately yet. It was the face of Florence, and through all the terrified avoidance it expressed, there was pity in it, sorrow, a grateful tender memory. On each face, wonder and fear were painted vividly; each so still and silent, looking at the other over the black gulf of the irrevocable past.
Florence was the first to change. Bursting into tears, she said from her full heart, 'Oh, Mama, Mama! why do we meet like this? Why were you ever kind to me when there was no one else, that we should meet like this?'
Edith stood before her, dumb and motionless. Her eyes were fixed upon her face.
'I dare not think of that,' said Florence, 'I am come from Papa's sick bed. We are never asunder now; we never shall be' any more. If you would have me ask his pardon, I will do it, Mama. I am almost sure he will grant it now, if I ask him. May Heaven grant it to you, too, and comfort you!'
She answered not a word.
'Walter - I am married to him, and we have a son,' said Florence, timidly - 'is at the door, and has brought me here. I will tell him that you are repentant; that you are changed,' said Florence, looking mournfully upon her; 'and he will speak to Papa with me, I know. Is there anything but this that I can do?'
Edith, breaking her silence, without moving eye or limb, answered slowly:
'The stain upon your name, upon your husband's, on your child's. Will that ever be forgiven, Florence?'
'Will it ever be, Mama? It is! Freely, freely, both by Walter and by me. If that is any consolation to you, there is nothing that you may believe more certainly. You do not - you do not,' faltered Florence, 'speak of Papa; but I am sure you wish that I should ask him for his forgiveness. I am sure you do.'
She answered not a word.
'I will!' said Florence. 'I will bring it you, if you will let me; and then, perhaps, we may take leave of each other, more like what we used to be to one another. I have not,' said Florence very gently, and drawing nearer to her, 'I have not shrunk back from you, Mama, because I fear you, or because I dread to be disgraced by you. I only wish to do my duty to Papa. I am very dear to him, and he is very dear to me. But I never can forget that you were very good to me. Oh, pray to Heaven,' cried Florence, falling on her bosom, 'pray to Heaven, Mama, to forgive you all this sin and shame, and to forgive me if I cannot help doing this (if it is wrong), when I remember what you used to be!'
Edith, as if she fell beneath her touch, sunk down on her knees, and caught her round the neck.
'Florence!' she cried. 'My better angel! Before I am mad again, before my stubbornness comes back and strikes me dumb, believe me, upon my soul I am innocent!'
'Mama!'
'Guilty of much! Guilty of that which sets a waste between us evermore. Guilty of what must separate me, through the whole remainder of my life, from purity and innocence - from you, of all the earth. Guilty of a blind and passionate resentment, of which I do not, cannot, will not, even now, repent; but not guilty with that dead man. Before God!'
Upon her knees upon the ground, she held up both her hands, and swore it.
'Florence!' she said, 'purest and best of natures, - whom I love - who might have changed me long ago, and did for a time work some change even in the woman that I am, - believe me, I am innocent of that; and once more, on my desolate heart, let me lay this dear head, for the last time!'
She was moved and weeping. Had she been oftener thus in older days, she had been happier now.
'There is nothing else in all the world,' she said, 'that would have wrung denial from me. No love, no hatred, no hope, no threat. I said that I would die, and make no sign. I could have done so, and I would, if we had never met, Florence.
'I trust,' said Cousin Feenix, ambling in at the door, and speaking, half in the room, and half out of it, 'that my lovely and accomplished relative will excuse my having, by a little stratagem, effected this meeting. I cannot say that I was, at first, wholly incredulous as to the possibility of my lovely and accomplished relative having, very unfortunately, committed herself with the deceased person with white teeth; because in point of fact, one does see, in this world - which is remarkable for devilish strange arrangements, and for being decidedly the most unintelligible thing within a man's experience - very odd conjunctions of that sort. But as I mentioned to my friend Dombey, I could not admit the criminality of my lovely and accomplished relative until it was perfectly established. And feeling, when the deceased person was, in point of fact, destroyed in a devilish horrible manner, that her position was a very painful one - and feeling besides that our family had been a little to blame in not paying more attention to her, and that we are a careless family - and also that my aunt, though a devilish lively woman, had perhaps not been the very best of mothers - I took the liberty of seeking her in France, and offering her such protection as a man very much out at elbows could offer. Upon which occasion, my lovely and accomplished relative did me the honour to express that she believed I was, in my way, a devilish good sort of fellow; and that therefore she put herself under my protection. Which in point of fact I understood to be a kind thing on the part of my lovely and accomplished relative, as I am getting extremely shaky, and have derived great comfort from her solicitude.'
Edith, who had taken Florence to a sofa, made a gesture with her hand as if she would have begged him to say no more.
'My lovely and accomplished relative,' resumed Cousin Feenix, still ambling about at the door, 'will excuse me, if, for her satisfaction, and my own, and that of my friend Dombey, whose lovely and accomplished daughter we so much admire, I complete the thread of my observations. She will remember that, from the first, she and I never alluded to the subject of her elopement. My impression, certainly, has always been, that there was a mystery in the affair which she could explain if so inclined. But my lovely and accomplished relative being a devilish resolute woman, I knew that she was not, in point of fact, to be trifled with, and therefore did not involve myself in any discussions. But, observing lately, that her accessible point did appear to be a very strong description of tenderness for the daughter of my friend Dombey, it occurred to me that if I could bring about a meeting, unexpected on both sides, it might lead to beneficial results. Therefore, we being in London, in the present private way, before going to the South of Italy, there to establish ourselves, in point of fact, until we go to our long homes, which is a devilish disagreeable reflection for a man, I applied myself to the discovery of the residence of my friend Gay - handsome man of an uncommonly frank disposition, who is probably known to my lovely and accomplished relative - and had the happiness of bringing his amiable wife to the present place. And now,' said Cousin Feenix, with a real and genuine earnestness shining through the levity of his manner and his slipshod speech, 'I do conjure my relative, not to stop half way, but to set right, as far as she can, whatever she has done wrong - not for the honour of her family, not for her own fame, not for any of those considerations which unfortunate circumstances have induced her to regard as hollow, and in point of fact, as approaching to humbug - but because it is wrong, and not right.'
Cousin Feenix's legs consented to take him away after this; and leaving them alone together, he shut the door.
Edith remained silent for some minutes, with Florence sitting close beside her. Then she took from her bosom a sealed paper.
'I debated with myself a long time,' she said in a low voice, 'whether to write this at all, in case of dying suddenly or by accident, and feeling the want of it upon me. I have deliberated, ever since, when and how to destroy it. Take it, Florence. The truth is written in it.'
'Is it for Papa?' asked Florence.
'It is for whom you will,' she answered. 'It is given to you, and is obtained by you. He never could have had it otherwise.'
Again they sat silent, in the deepening darkness.
'Mama,' said Florence, 'he has lost his fortune; he has been at the point of death; he may not recover, even now. Is there any word that I shall say to him from you?'
'Did you tell me,' asked Edith, 'that you were very dear to him?'
'Yes!' said Florence, in a thrilling voice.
'Tell him I am sorry that we ever met.
'No more?' said Florence after a pause.
'Tell him, if he asks, that I do not repent of what I have done - not yet - for if it were to do again to-morrow, I should do it. But if he is a changed man - '
She stopped. There was something in the silent touch of Florence's hand that stopped her.
'But that being a changed man, he knows, now, it would never be. Tell him I wish it never had been.'
'May I say,' said Florence, 'that you grieved to hear of the afflictions he has suffered?'
'Not,' she replied, 'if they have taught him that his daughter is very dear to him. He will not grieve for them himself, one day, if they have brought that lesson, Florence.'
'You wish well to him, and would have him happy. I am sure you would!' said Florence. 'Oh! let me be able, if I have the occasion at some future time, to say so?'
Edith sat with her dark eyes gazing steadfastly before her, and did not reply until Florence had repeated her entreaty; when she drew her hand within her arm, and said, with the same thoughtful gaze upon the night outside:
'Tell him that if, in his own present, he can find any reason to compassionate my past, I sent word that I asked him to do so. Tell him that if, in his own present, he can find a reason to think less bitterly of me, I asked him to do so. Tell him, that, dead as we are to one another, never more to meet on this side of eternity, he knows there is one feeling in common between us now, that there never was before.'
Her sternness seemed to yield, and there were tears in her dark eyes.
'I trust myself to that,' she said, 'for his better thoughts of me, and mine of him. When he loves his Florence most, he will hate me least. When he is most proud and happy in her and her children, he will be most repentant of his own part in the dark vision of our married life. At that time, I will be repentant too - let him know it then - and think that when I thought so much of all the causes that had made me what I was, I needed to have allowed more for the causes that had made him what he was. I will try, then, to forgive him his share of blame. Let him try to forgive me mine!'
'Oh Mama!' said Florence. 'How it lightens my heart, even in such a strange meeting and parting, to hear this!'
'Strange words in my own ears,' said Edith, 'and foreign to the sound of my own voice! But even if I had been the wretched creature I have given him occasion to believe me, I think I could have said them still, hearing that you and he were very dear to one another. Let him, when you are dearest, ever feel that he is most forbearing in his thoughts of me - that I am most forbearing in my thoughts of him! Those are the last words I send him! Now, goodbye, my life!'
She clasped her in her arms, and seemed to pour out all her woman's soul of love and tenderness at once.
'This kiss for your child! These kisses for a blessing on your head! My own dear Florence, my sweet girl, farewell!'
'To meet again!' cried Florence.
'Never again! Never again! When you leave me in this dark room, think that you have left me in the grave. Remember only that I was once, and that I loved you!'
And Florence left her, seeing her face no more, but accompanied by her embraces and caresses to the last.
Cousin Feenix met her at the door, and took her down to Walter in the dingy dining room, upon whose shoulder she laid her head weeping.
'I am devilish sorry,' said Cousin Feenix, lifting his wristbands to his eyes in the simplest manner possible, and without the least concealment, 'that the lovely and accomplished daughter of my friend Dombey and amiable wife of my friend Gay, should have had her sensitive nature so very much distressed and cut up by the interview which is just concluded. But I hope and trust I have acted for the best, and that my honourable friend Dombey will find his mind relieved by the disclosures which have taken place. I exceedingly lament that my friend Dombey should have got himself, in point of fact, into the devil's own state of conglomeration by an alliance with our family; but am strongly of opinion that if it hadn't been for the infernal scoundrel Barker - man with white teeth - everything would have gone on pretty smoothly. In regard to my relative who does me the honour to have formed an uncommonly good opinion of myself, I can assure the amiable wife of my friend Gay, that she may rely on my being, in point of fact, a father to her. And in regard to the changes of human life, and the extraordinary manner in which we are perpetually conducting ourselves, all I can say is, with my friend Shakespeare - man who wasn't for an age but for all time, and with whom my friend Gay is no doubt acquainted - that its like the shadow of a dream.'
弗洛伦斯需要帮助。她的父亲特别需要帮助。她的老朋友在这时前来雪中送炭，这份情谊显得特别珍贵。死神站在他的枕边。过去的他如今只剩下一个影子。他心神破碎，躯体病危，疲乏的头躺在床上他女儿的手上（这是为他准备的），从此再也没有抬起来过。
她经常跟他在一起。他通常是认识她的；但在神志昏迷的时候，他常常弄不清他跟她讲话时的周围环境，而跟别的情况混淆起来。因此他有时跟她谈话的口气就仿佛他的儿子刚去世不久；他会跟她说，他曾看到她在小床边侍候——虽然他过去一句话也没有谈过这一点，但这个情况他是看到过的——；然后他会把脸掩藏在枕头里，抽泣起来，并伸出他消瘦的手。有时他会问她，“弗洛伦斯在哪里？”“我在这里，爸爸，我在这里。”“我不认识她！”他会这样喊道。“我们分离得这么久，我不认识她了！”那时他的眼睛就一动不动地瞪着，恐怖就会笼罩在他身上，直到她能安慰他，使他慌乱的心平静下来为止；这时候她忍着不让自己的眼泪流出，而在别的时候她却费很大劲才能使这些眼泪不流。
有时他好几个小时说着梦话，说到他过去经营商业的一些情景；弗洛伦斯听他说的时候许多地方都听不明白。他会重复那个孩子的问题，“钱是什么？”然后沉思着，考虑着，并多少相互连贯地自己跟自己议论着，以求得一个最好的答复，仿佛在这时之前，这个问题从来不曾向他提出来过似的。他会两万次沉思默想地、继续不断地重复他过去公司的名称，每说到一次都会把头转向枕头。他会计算他孩子的数目——一——二——停住，然后回去，用同样的方式重新开始。
但这是当他的精神处于最错乱时的情形。在他生病的其他时候，也是比较经常的时候，他常常想到弗洛伦斯。他最时常会做的是这样一些事情：他会想起最近记忆起来的那个夜间，那个她曾经走到楼下他的房间里的那个夜间，他会想象他的心里非常痛苦，而且他还跑出去追她，并上楼去找她。然后他把那个时候跟后来看到许多脚印的日子混淆起来了；他对脚印的数量感到吃惊，当他跟在她后面的时候，他会开始数它们。突然，在其他脚印中间，出现了一只带血的脚印，一直向前走着。然后，他开始看到在隔一定时间就看到的敞开着的门；往门里看，他可以在镜子中看见形容枯槁的人的可怕的映像，这人把什么东西掩藏在胸中。在许多脚印和带血的脚印中间，这里那里一直都有弗洛伦斯的脚印；她依旧在前面走。他依旧怀着一颗烦乱不宁的心，在后面跟随着，数着，一直向前走，一直往更高的地方爬，一直爬到一座宏伟的塔的尖顶上，那是需要好多年才能攀登上的。
有一天他问，好久以前跟他讲话的是不是苏珊。
弗洛伦斯回答道，“是的，亲爱的爸爸，”然后问他，他是不是想见她？
他说，“很想见”。于是苏珊全身不是没有哆嗦地走到他的床边。
这对他似乎是极大的安慰。他恳求她别走；他已原谅了她过去所说过的话，要她留下来；他说，现在弗洛伦斯跟他和过去已完全不同了，他们很幸福。让她来看看这！他把那个温柔的头拉到他的枕头上，让它躺在他的旁边。
他好几天、好几个星期一直处于这样的状态。终于有一天他开始平静下来了，他——一个虚弱无力的、只有几分像人的人——躺在床上，说话的很低，只有挨近他的嘴唇才能听得到。现在，他躺在那里，通过打开的窗子，向外看到夏日的天空和树木，傍晚还看到日落，心中感到一种说不清的愉快。他注视着云彩与树叶的阴影，似乎对阴影产生了同情。他有这种感情是很自然的。对他来说，生活与世界仅仅是阴影而已。
他开始为弗洛伦斯的疲累感到不安，常常不顾自己体弱，低声在她耳旁说，“我亲爱的，到新鲜空气中去散散步吧。到你的好丈夫那里去吧！”有一次，当沃尔特在他房间里的时候，他招呼他走近一些，并弯下身子，然后他紧握着他的手，低声对他说，他知道，当他死去的时候，他可以把女儿信托给他。
有一个傍晚，快要日落的时候，弗洛伦斯和沃尔特一起坐在他的房间中（因为他喜欢看到他们）；弗洛伦斯手中抱着孩子，开始向这小家伙唱歌；她唱的正是她过去时常向他死去的儿子唱的歌。他当时听到这歌声无法忍受，因此举起颤抖的手，恳求她停止唱；可是第二天他又请她唱它，而且从这时起他经常在傍晚提出这个请求；她也就唱了。他转过脸听着。
有一次弗洛伦斯坐在他房间中的窗口，在她与她过去的侍女（她仍然是她忠实的伴侣）之间放着一个针线篮子。他打瞌睡了。这是个美丽的傍晚，要再过两个小时天才昏黑。寂静无声的气氛使弗洛伦斯浮想联翩地陷入了沉思。她在片刻之间忘记了一切，但却回忆着这位躺在床上、已经大大改变了的人把她介绍给她美丽的妈妈时的情景；当胳膊肘支托在椅背上的沃尔特碰了她一下的时候，她才惊醒过来。
“我亲爱的，”沃尔特说道，“楼下有人想跟你谈话。”
她觉得沃尔特的神情严肃，就问他，是不是发生什么事情了。
“没有，没有，我亲爱的！”沃尔特说道，“我本人已看到那位先生，并且跟他谈了话。没有发生什么事情。你是不是跟我来？”
弗洛伦斯把她的胳膊伸进他的胳膊里，并把父亲交给那位黑眼睛的图茨夫人（她坐在那里干着针线活，那份麻利、灵巧劲儿只有黑眼睛的女人才能有），然后陪着她的丈夫到楼下去。在跟花园相通的一间舒适的小客厅里，有一位先生在那里坐着；当她走进去的时候，他站起来，想向前迎接她，但由于他两只腿的特殊情形，他拐了一个弯，只在桌边就停住了。
这时弗洛伦斯记起这是菲尼克斯表哥；起初由于树叶阴影的缘故，她没有把他认出来。菲尼克斯表哥跟她握手，向她祝贺她的婚姻。
“说实在的，”当弗洛伦斯坐下来的时候，菲尼克斯表哥坐着说道，“我真希望能早些来向您表示祝贺。可是，事实上许多使人痛苦的事情发生了，可以说是一桩桩接踵而来，我本人处在非常不体面的状况中，完全不适合参加任何社交活动。我现在所保持的交际活动是我自己个人的交际活动。对于一个对自己才能有很高自我评价、知道他事实上能无限地把自己忙得团团转的人来说，有这样一点交际活动，决不是一件愉快的事。”
这位先生的态度中表现出某种难以确定的局促不安与忧虑的神情（虽然其中有一些小小的、没有恶意的、异乎寻常的东西，但这始终是上流社会人士的局促不安与忧虑），弗洛伦斯从他的这种态度中，也从沃尔特的态度中看出，在这之后，她将听到他说明这次来访目的的一些话。
“我已经跟我的朋友盖伊先生（如果他可以允许我荣幸地称呼他的话）说过，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“我高兴地听到，我的朋友董贝的病情已经有了根本性的好转。我相信，我的朋友董贝不会仅仅因为财产的损失而让自己伤心过度的。我不能说我本人曾遭受过财产的巨大损失，实际上我也从来没有什么巨额的财产可以损失。但是就我能失去的财产来说，我已失去它了；我并不觉得我对这有什么重重忧虑。我知道我的朋友董贝是一位非常高尚的人，这是社会上对他的普遍看法；我想我的朋友董贝知道这一点心里一定会感到很大的安慰。甚至汤米•斯克鲁泽——他是个脾气很大的人，我的朋友盖伊可能认识他——也不能说片言只语来反驳这个事实。”
弗洛伦斯比原先更感到，在这之后，他将会告诉她一些事情；她诚挚地等待着。她是那么诚挚，仿佛她已把她的心情说出来似的，因此菲尼克斯表哥就回答了她的问题。
“事实上是，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“我的朋友盖伊跟我本人刚才讨论过，请求您帮个忙是不是合适。我的朋友盖伊十分亲切、真诚地会见了我，我对他十分感谢。他答应向您提出这个请求。我知道，像我的朋友董贝的可爱的和多才多艺的女儿这样一位和蔼可亲的女士将不需要多费唇舌请求；但是我很高兴地知道，我的朋友盖伊的影响与赞许是对我的支持。就像我过去在议会参加会议的时候一样，当一个人要提出一项动议的时候——那时这种事是很少的，因为双方的领袖都是要求遵守严格纪律的人，所以我们被控制得紧紧的；这对于像我这样的普通议员们是一件非常好的事情，这可以防止我们不断地抛头露面，因为我们当中很多人都狂热地、渴望地想出出风头——正像我过去在议会参加会议的时候那样，我想说，当一个人被允许提出任何一个毫无意思的鸡毛蒜皮的建议的时候，他总是认为有责任声称，他很高兴地相信，他的意见不会不在皮特先生①，这位事实上战胜暴风雨的舵手的心中引起共鸣的。这时非常多的家伙立刻发出了欢呼，给发言者打气。其实这些家伙都是按照命令，每当提到皮特先生的名字的时候，就格外热烈地发出欢呼的；他们对这已非常熟练了，所以皮特先生的名字经常把他们从瞌睡中唤醒。否则他们就完全不知道正在发言的内容是什么，所以健谈的布朗——财政委员会的布朗，一下子能喝四瓶酒，我的朋友盖伊的父亲可能认识他，因为那时候我的朋友盖伊还没有生下来——这位布朗时常说，如果有一个人从座位上站起来说，他很遗憾向议会报告，有一位议员先生阁下在休息室里得了惊风，正处在临终前的痉挛状态中，这位议员先生阁下姓皮特，那么那时热烈的欢呼声一定会如雷鸣般地响彻会场。”
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①指威廉•皮特（WilliamPitt）（1759—1806年），他是查塔姆•皮特（ChathamPitt）（1708—1778年）的儿子，英国辉格党人，曾任英国首相，英国、奥地利与俄国反对拿破仑联盟的创建者，以善演说知名。
菲尼克斯表哥迟迟不说明来访的目的，这使弗洛伦斯心绪不宁，她愈来愈焦虑地把眼光从菲尼克斯表哥身上转移到沃尔特身上。
“我亲爱的，”沃尔特说道，“没有发生什么不好的事情。”
“以我的荣誉发誓，没有发生什么不好的事情，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“我深切地感到伤心，我已引起您那怕是片刻的不安。我请您放心，没有发生什么不好的事情。我想求您帮忙的就是——可是这确实好像异乎寻常，所以如果我的朋友盖伊肯行个好来打破——事实上就是打破冰块的话，那么我将对他极为感谢，”菲尼克斯表哥说道。
沃尔特听到这样的请求，又看到弗洛伦斯向他投来恳求的眼光，就说道：
“我最亲爱的，事情很简单。你跟这位你认识的先生乘车到伦敦去。”
“请原谅我打断您的话，我的朋友盖伊也一道去，”菲尼克斯表哥插嘴道。
“我也一道去，——到一个地方去进行一次拜访。”
“拜访谁？”弗洛伦斯的眼光从这个人身上转移到另一个人身上。
“如果我可以提出请求的话，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“那么我想不揣冒昧地请求您不要一定要求答复这个问题。”
“•你知道吗，沃尔特？”
“知道。”
“而且你认为我去是对的吗？”
“是的。正因为我相信你也会这样认为，我才这样认为的。虽然可能有些我很了解的原因，最好事先不要再说什么。”
“如果爸爸还在睡觉，或者如果他醒了没有我也行的话，那么我就立即去，”弗洛伦斯说道。接着，她平静地站起来，用稍有些惊慌、但却完全信任的眼光看了他们一眼之后，就离开了房间。
当她回来，准备跟他们一起走的时候，他们正在窗口一起认真地谈着话；弗洛伦斯不能不奇怪，是什么话题使他们在这样短的时间中就相处得很熟。当她进来时，她并不奇怪她的丈夫中止谈话时向她投来的眼光是充满自豪与深情的；
因为她每次见到他的时候，他总是用这样的眼光看她的。
“我将留一张名片给我的朋友董贝，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，“我真诚地相信，他将会逐渐地不断地恢复健康与精力的。我希望我的朋友董贝将会对我表示善意，把我看成是一位对他非常热烈钦佩的人；事实上，他那英国商人与非常正直的、正人君子的性格是我非常钦佩的。我的家业正处在极为衰败的境地；但是如果我的朋友董贝需要换换空气，愿意在那里住下来的话，那么他将会看到，那是个非常有益于健康的地方——也不能不这样，因为它非常沉闷无趣。如果我的朋友董贝身体虚弱，并允许我向他推荐经常使我受益的方法的话（我过去有时觉得头昏眼花；在人们生活很放荡的那些日子里，我也曾生活得相当放荡），那么我就向他建议，事实上就是把蛋黄放在雪利酒中，加上糖和肉豆蔻，搅拌均匀，早上把它喝了，同时再吃一片干的烤面包片。在邦德街开设拳击室的杰克逊是个见闻很广博的人，我的朋友盖伊无疑听说过，他时常说，在为上拳击场进行训练时，他们用朗姆酒来代替雪利酒。由于我的朋友董贝身体病弱，我想建议他用雪利酒；如果喝朗姆酒的话，那么酒就会冲上——事实上就会冲上他的脸面，——使他显得非常不体面。”
所有这些话菲尼克斯表哥都是以显然是神经质与心绪不宁的神态说出来的。然后，他挽着弗洛伦斯，尽可能有力地约束住他那两只任性的腿（它们似乎决心要往花园里走去），把她领到门口，并搀扶她坐到一辆正等待着她的四轮马车中；
沃尔特在他之后上了马车，然后马车就开走了。
马车跑了六英里或八英里长的路程。当他们通过伦敦西边某些沉闷的、庄严的街道的时候，天色渐渐昏暗。弗洛伦斯这时把手放到沃尔特手里，很认真地、而且愈来愈焦虑地注视着他们拐进去的每一条新的街道。
当马车终于在布鲁克街那座曾经在里面庆祝过她爸爸的不幸的婚姻的房屋前面停下来的时候，弗洛伦斯说道，“沃尔特，这是什么意思？谁在这里？”沃尔特安抚她，没有回答；这时她向房屋正面看了一眼，看到所有的窗子都关上了，仿佛没有人住似的。菲尼克斯表哥这时下了车，向她伸出了手。
“你不来吗，沃尔特？”
“不了，我留在这里。别哆嗦！没有什么好害怕的，亲爱的弗洛伦斯。”
“我知道这，沃尔特，你离我这么近。我相信这一点，不过——”
没有敲门，门轻轻地开了；菲尼克斯表哥把她从夏天晚上的空气中领进一间密闭的沉闷的房屋里。它比过去更加昏暗、阴沉，好像从结婚那一天以来，它就一直关着，从那时起它就把黑暗与悲哀一直贮藏在里面似的。
弗洛伦斯哆嗦着登上幽暗的楼梯，跟她的向导停在一间客厅的门前。他开了门，没有说话，向她做了个手势，请她走进里面的房间，他则留在原地。弗洛伦斯犹豫了片刻之后，依照他的话进去了。
一位女士坐在窗子旁边的桌子前面，似乎在写字或画画；她的手由一只手支托着，转向里面，对着即将消逝的日光。弗洛伦斯满腹疑团，向前走去，突然间站住，仿佛她已失去了移动的力量似的。那位女士转过头来。
“我的天啊！”她说，“这是什么意思？”
“不，不！”当那位女士站起来，伸出手，把弗洛伦斯推开的时候，弗洛伦斯向后退缩，喊道，“妈妈！”
她们站在那里，相互看着。这是伊迪丝的脸，愤怒与高傲已减损了它原先的风韵，但仍然是美丽与端庄的。这是弗洛伦斯的脸，虽然流露出恐怖与躲闪的神情，但从中仍然可以看出惋惜、悲伤的感情，以及一份感激的、亲切的回忆。在每一张脸上都呈现出惊异与恐惧；每个人都一动不动，默不作声，越过不能改变的过去的黑暗鸿沟，相互望着。
弗洛伦斯首先打破了沉默。她眼泪汪汪，真心诚意地说道，“啊，妈妈，妈妈！为什么我们像这样子见面啊？如果我们必须像这样子见面的话，那么当过去我没有其他亲人的时候，您为什么又要对我那么好呢？”
伊迪丝站在她面前，哑口无言，一动不动。她的眼睛凝视着她的脸。
“我不敢想到这一点，”弗洛伦斯说道，“我是从爸爸的病床边来的。我们现在从不分离；我们将永远不再分离。如果您愿意要我去请求他原谅的话，那么我将会去请求的，妈妈。我几乎完全相信，如果我向他提出这个请求的话，他现在是会答应的。愿上天也能答应您这一点，并安慰您！”
她没有回答一个字。
“沃尔特——我已嫁给他了，我们有了一个儿子；”弗洛伦斯羞怯地说道，“他在门口，是他把我带到这里来的。我将告诉他，您已经忏悔了；您已经改变了，”弗洛伦斯伤心地看着她，说道，“我知道，他会跟我一起对爸爸说的。除了这，我还能做别的什么事吗？”
伊迪丝的眼睛或手脚都没有动，她打破沉默，缓慢地回答道：
“我在你的名字上，在你丈夫的名字上，在你儿子的名字上都留下了污点。有一天这也将得到原谅吗，弗洛伦斯？”
“有一天这也将得到原谅吗，妈妈？是的，这也会得到原谅的！沃尔特和我都会完全地、真心地原谅的！如果这一点对您有什么安慰的话，那么您没有什么可以更确切无疑地相信这一点的了。您没有——”弗洛伦斯结结巴巴地说道，“您没有提到爸爸，但我相信您会希望我请求他宽恕的。我相信您会这样希望的。”
她没有回答一个字。
“我会去请求的！”弗洛伦斯说道，“如果您让我去请求的话，那么我就会把他的宽恕带给您的；那时候，也许我们将会相互离别，就像我们过去相互离别一样。妈妈，”弗洛伦斯更靠近她一些，很温柔地说道，“刚才我并不是因为害怕您，或者因为我怕被您玷污名声而从您身边往后退缩的。我只是希望尽到我对爸爸的责任。他很爱我，我也很爱他。但是我永远不能忘记您对我很好。啊！向上帝祈祷吧，”弗洛伦斯扑到她的胸前，哭道，“向上帝祈祷吧，妈妈，祈求他宽恕您所有的罪过与耻辱吧，祈求他也宽恕我现在不由自主所做的事情吧（如果这样做是错误的话），因为我记得您过去对我是那么好！”
伊迪丝似乎在她的拥抱下散了架似的，站不住脚，跪了下来，搂住她的脖子。
“弗洛伦斯，”她喊道，“我可爱的天使！在我重新发疯之前，在我固执的脾气回到我的身上、使我闭口不说任何话之前，请相信我，我凭我的心灵发誓，我是清白的。”
“妈妈！”
“我犯了许多罪！犯了在我们之间永远掘开一条鸿沟的罪。犯了使我的余生中必然与纯洁和清白分离，首先是与你分离的罪。犯了一种盲目地、狂烈的愤怒的罪，对于这一点我就是现在也不后悔，我不能后悔，也将不会后悔的；但是我没有和那个死去的人犯过什么罪。我向上帝发誓！”
她跪在地上，举起双手发誓。
“弗洛伦斯！”她说道，“天地间最纯洁与最善良的人！她是我所爱的人；她在很久以前可能把我改变成另一个人，而且确实曾经在一段短短的时间内把一个甚至像我这样的女人也改变了一些。弗洛伦斯！请相信我，我在那件事情上是清白无罪的；请让我把这颗亲爱的头最后一次再放在我这颗凄凉的心上吧！”
她感情激动了，并且哭了。如果在往昔的日子中，她经常是这样的话，那么她现在就会幸福一些了。
“世界上没有任何东西能使我否认我在那件事情上是清白无罪的。不论是什么爱，不论是什么恨，不论是什么希望，不论是什么威胁，都不能使我否认这一点。我曾说过，我将一声不吭、毫无动静地死去。如果我们没有相遇的话，弗洛伦斯，那么我是能这样死去的，也将会这样死去的。”
“我相信，”菲尼克斯表哥在门口正要慢步走进，他一只脚在门里，一只脚在门外，说道，“我的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚将原谅我采用了一点策略，促成了这次会见。我不能说我最初完全不相信我的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚有可能跟那个死去的白牙齿的人不幸地发生关系而玷污了自己的名声，因为事实上，我们在这个世界上确实见到过这一类十分奇怪的结合；这个世界使我们感到惊异，就是因为它安排了一些非常奇怪的婚姻，出现了一些人们绝对难以理解的事情。但是正像我跟我的朋友董贝讲过的那样，在没有完全被证实之前，我是不能承认我的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚的罪行的。当那个已死去了的人事实上以一种非常可怕的方式毁掉生命的时候，我觉得她的处境很痛苦，同时觉得，我们的家庭也有些该责怪的地方，就是没有更多地关心她；我们的家庭是个粗心大意的家庭；而且我也觉得，我的姑妈虽然是个非常活泼的妇女，但也许并不是一位最好的母亲；于是我就冒昧地到法国去寻找她，并向她提供了一个经济十分拮据的人所能提供的保护。在这种情况下，我的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚使我感到很荣幸地对我说，她相信我是一个非常好的人，因此她就把她自己置于我的保护之下。事实上，我认为这是我的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚对我所表示的好意，因为我病病歪歪，身体十分衰弱，她的关心给了我极大的安慰。”
伊迪丝已经请弗洛伦斯坐在沙发上，这时做了个手势，仿佛请求他不要再说什么了。
“如果为了使她，使我，也使我的朋友董贝感到满意，”仍旧停在门口的菲尼克斯表哥继续说道，“（我的朋友董贝的可爱的、多才多艺的女儿我们是十分钦佩的），我把我的已经说开了的话说完的话，那么我的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚是会原谅我的。她记得，从开始到现在，她与我从来没有提到过私奔这个问题。我的印象确实一直总是这样：这件事情中有一个秘密，如果她愿意的话，那么她是能够解释明白的。但是我的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚是一位意志非常坚决的女士，我知道，她事实上是不好轻率对待的，所以我从来没有跟她讨论过这件事。可是最近我注意到，她有一个可以攻破的地方，就是她对我的朋友董贝的女儿怀有十分强烈的亲切的感情，于是我想到，如果我能使双方出乎意料地会见的话，那么这可能是会导致有益的结果的。因此，当我们像现在这样秘密地住在伦敦，没有前往意大利南方去定居之前，事实上，也就是在我们还没有到我们远方的家乡（对一个人来说，想到这一点是非常不愉快的）去之前，我设法寻找到我的朋友盖伊的住所（我的朋友盖伊是一位外貌英俊、性情非常坦率的人，我的可爱的、多才多艺的亲戚可能知道他），并高兴地把他的和蔼可亲的妻子带到现在这个地方。现在，”菲尼克斯表哥通过他那不假思索的态度与东拉西扯的谈话表露出他的一番真心诚意，他就怀着这样的感情说道，“我祈求我的亲戚不要半途而废，不论她做错了什么，都要改正过来——这样做不是为了她家庭的荣誉，不是为了她本人的名声，也不是为了她在目前不幸的境况下容易把它看成是虚伪或事实上接近于欺世盗名的任何考虑，而只是因为它是错误的，而不是正确的。”菲尼克斯表哥讲了这些话之后，他的腿同意把他带走，他把门关上，留下她们两人单独在一起。
伊迪丝沉默了几分钟，弗洛伦斯紧挨着坐在她的身边。然后她从怀中掏出了一张封好的纸。
“我独自反复思考了好久，”她低声说道，“我是不是需要写这个，以防我突然死亡或遭遇到意外的灾祸；我感到我想要写它。从那时起，我曾考虑在什么时候和怎样销毁它。把它拿去吧，弗洛伦斯，真实情况都写在里面了。”
“要我交给爸爸吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。
“交给你想交给的人，”她回答道。“这是给你的。这是你得到的。他永远也不能通过其他途径得到它。”
她们又默默无言地在愈来愈深的黑暗中坐着。
“妈妈，”弗洛伦斯说道，“他已丧失了他的财产；他曾经处于死亡的边缘；甚至现在他也可能不会痊愈。您有什么话需要我转告他的吗？”
“你是否跟我说过，”伊迪丝说道，“他很爱你？”
“是的，”弗洛伦斯用颤抖的回答道。
“请跟他说，我感到遗憾，我们两人过去会相遇。”
“没有别的了吗？”弗洛伦斯沉默了一会儿之后问道。
“请告诉他，如果他问起的话，我并不后悔我所做过的事情，——现在还不后悔——因为如果明天要再做的话，我也还会那样做的。但是如果他是一个改变了的人的话——”
她停住了。在弗洛伦斯的手的默默的抚摸中，有一种东西使她停下来。
“——但是因为他已是一个改变了的人，他知道，现在决不会发生那样的事情了。请告诉他，我真但愿过去从来不曾发生过那样的事情。”
“我是否能说，”弗洛伦斯说道，“您听到他所遭受到的痛苦，您感到伤心？”
“不，”她回答道，“如果这些痛苦使他认识到，他的女儿对他是很宝贵的话，那么我是不会感到伤心的。如果有一天他从这些痛苦中得到了这个教训的话，那么他本人也不会因为这些痛苦而感到伤心的。”
“您祝他好，祝他幸福。我相信您会的！”弗洛伦斯说道。
“请让我将来什么时候能这样说好吗？”
伊迪丝的黑眼睛全神贯注地凝视着前面，坐在那里，没有回答，直到弗洛伦斯重复她的请求，她才把手从弗洛伦斯的胳膊中抽回，然后沉思地凝视着外面的黑夜，说道：
“请告诉他，如果他现在能找到什么理由来怜悯我的过去的话，那么我请求他这样做。请告诉他，如果他现在能找到什么理由想到我的时候不那么怨恨的话，那么我请求他这样做。请告诉他，虽然对我们彼此来说，我们都已经死去了，在永恒的世界的这一边也永远不会再相遇了，但他知道，我们之间现在已有了一种共同的感情，这在过去是从来不曾有过的。”
她那坚决的意志似乎有些退让；在她的黑眼睛中包含着泪水。
“我这样说，”她说道，“是因为我相信他将会把我想得好一些，我也会把他想得好一些。当他将来愈爱他的弗洛伦斯时，他也就将会愈少恨我。当他将来对她和她的孩子们愈感到自豪时，他对他在我们婚姻生活黑暗的梦幻中所扮演的角色也将会愈感到悔恨。那时候，我也会悔恨的——那时候让他知道这一点吧——，那时候，我也会想到，当我对我之所以成为我过去那样的人的原因想得很多的时候，我应该同时对他之所以成为他过去那样的人的原因想得更多才是。那时候，我将设法宽恕他犯了他的那一份过错。让他也设法宽恕我犯了我的那一份过错！”
“啊，妈妈！”弗洛伦斯说道。“即使是在这样的相见与离别中听到这些话，它也使我的心情感到轻松了好多！”
“是的，这些话我自己听起来也是感到陌生的，”伊迪丝说道，“这些过去也从来没有从我的嘴中发出过！但是即使我曾经是个卑劣的人（我使他有理由相信我是这样的人），当我听到你们现在彼此十分亲爱的时候，我觉得我仍然能说出这些话来。当你是他最亲爱的人的时候，让他有一天想到我的时候是极为宽容的，而我在想到他的时候也是极为宽容的吧！这些就是我最后想要对他说的话！现在，让我们告别吧，我的生命！”
她把她搂在怀里，似乎倾注了她女性心灵中所聚积的全部热爱与深情。
“这个吻是给你的孩子的！这些吻是表示对你的祝福！我的亲爱的心肝弗洛伦斯，我的可爱的女儿，向你告别了！”
“再见吧！”弗洛伦斯喊道。
“永远不会了！永远不会了！当你把我留在这个黑暗的房间里的时候，你就想你已经把我留在坟墓里了。只要记得我曾经到这世界上来过，记得我曾经爱过你就行了！”
弗洛伦斯没有再看见她的脸，但直到最后都感到她的拥抱与爱抚，就这样离开了她。
菲尼克斯表哥在门口迎接了她，把她带到在楼下昏暗的餐厅中沃尔特的身边；她的头伏在他的肩上，哭着。
“我非常遗憾，”菲尼克斯表哥说道，一边极为纯朴地、毫无掩饰地举起衣袖去擦眼泪，“刚刚结束的会晤会使我的朋友董贝的可爱的、多才多艺的女儿、我的朋友盖伊的和蔼可爱的妻子的善感的天性受到这样心碎肠断的万分痛苦。可是我希望，并且相信，我是怀着最良好的愿望行事的，我的尊敬的朋友董贝在明白所发生的一切情形之后，将会感到安慰。我十分遗憾，我的朋友董贝跟我们家庭结亲之后使自己事实上落到一个非常糟糕的境况中；但我坚决认为，要是没有那个穷凶极恶的流氓巴克①——那个一口白牙齿的家伙——，那么一切事情都会十分顺利地进行的。关于我的亲戚（她对我本人有很高的评价，这使我感到十分荣幸），我可以向我的朋友盖伊的和蔼可亲的妻子保证，她可以指望我会像父亲一样地对待她。关于人生的变化以及我们经常不断处事为人的异乎寻常的态度，我和我的朋友莎士比亚——他不是一位属于一个时期，而是属于千秋万代的人物②，我的朋友盖伊无疑是知道他的——所能说的就是，生活就像一个梦的影子。”
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①菲尼克斯表哥把卡克误记为巴克。
②评价莎士比亚的这句话是莎士比亚的朋友，著名的英国剧作家本•琼生（BenJonson，1573—1637）年说的。
Chapter 62
Final
A bottle that has been long excluded from the light of day, and is hoary with dust and cobwebs, has been brought into the sunshine; and the golden wine within it sheds a lustre on the table.
It is the last bottle of the old Madiera.
'You are quite right, Mr Gills,' says Mr Dombey. 'This is a very rare and most delicious wine.'
The Captain, who is of the party, beams with joy. There is a very halo of delight round his glowing forehead.
'We always promised ourselves, Sir,' observes Mr Gills,' Ned and myself, I mean - '
Mr Dombey nods at the Captain, who shines more and more with speechless gratification.
'-that we would drink this, one day or other, to Walter safe at home: though such a home we never thought of. If you don't object to our old whim, Sir, let us devote this first glass to Walter and his wife.'
'To Walter and his wife!' says Mr Dombey. 'Florence, my child' - and turns to kiss her.
'To Walter and his wife!' says Mr Toots.
'To Wal'r and his wife!' exclaims the Captain. 'Hooroar!' and the Captain exhibiting a strong desire to clink his glass against some other glass, Mr Dombey, with a ready hand, holds out his. The others follow; and there is a blithe and merry ringing, as of a little peal of marriage bells.
Other buried wine grows older, as the old Madeira did in its time; and dust and cobwebs thicken on the bottles.
Mr Dombey is a white-haired gentleman, whose face bears heavy marks of care and suffering; but they are traces of a storm that has passed on for ever, and left a clear evening in its track.
Ambitious projects trouble him no more. His only pride is in his daughter and her husband. He has a silent, thoughtful, quiet manner, and is always with his daughter. Miss Tox is not infrequently of the family party, and is quite devoted to it, and a great favourite. Her admiration of her once stately patron is, and has been ever since the morning of her shock in Princess's Place, platonic, but not weakened in the least.
Nothing has drifted to him from the wreck of his fortunes, but a certain annual sum that comes he knows not how, with an earnest entreaty that he will not seek to discover, and with the assurance that it is a debt, and an act of reparation. He has consulted with his old clerk about this, who is clear it may be honourably accepted, and has no doubt it arises out of some forgotten transaction in the times of the old House.
That hazel-eyed bachelor, a bachelor no more, is married now, and to the sister of the grey-haired Junior. He visits his old chief sometimes, but seldom. There is a reason in the greyhaired Junior's history, and yet a stronger reason in his name, why he should keep retired from his old employer; and as he lives with his sister and her husband, they participate in that retirement. Walter sees them sometimes - Florence too - and the pleasant house resounds with profound duets arranged for the Piano-Forte and Violoncello, and with the labours of Harmonious Blacksmiths.
And how goes the wooden Midshipman in these changed days? Why, here he still is, right leg foremost, hard at work upon the hackney coaches, and more on the alert than ever, being newly painted from his cocked hat to his buckled shoes; and up above him, in golden characters, these names shine refulgent, GILLS AND CUTTLE.
Not another stroke of business does the Midshipman achieve beyond his usual easy trade. But they do say, in a circuit of some half-mile round the blue umbrella in Leadenhall Market, that some of Mr Gills's old investments are coming out wonderfully well; and that instead of being behind the time in those respects, as he supposed, he was, in truth, a little before it, and had to wait the fulness of the time and the design. The whisper is that Mr Gills's money has begun to turn itself, and that it is turning itself over and over pretty briskly. Certain it is that, standing at his shop-door, in his coffee-coloured suit, with his chronometer in his pocket, and his spectacles on his forehead, he don't appear to break his heart at customers not coming, but looks very jovial and contented, though full as misty as of yore.
As to his partner, Captain Cuttle, there is a fiction of a business in the Captain's mind which is better than any reality. The Captain is as satisfied of the Midshipman's importance to the commerce and navigation of the country, as he could possibly be, if no ship left the Port of London without the Midshipman's assistance. His delight in his own name over the door, is inexhaustible. He crosses the street, twenty times a day, to look at it from the other side of the way; and invariably says, on these occasions, 'Ed'ard Cuttle, my lad, if your mother could ha' know'd as you would ever be a man o' science, the good old creetur would ha' been took aback in-deed!'
But here is Mr Toots descending on the Midshipman with violent rapidity, and Mr Toots's face is very red as he bursts into the little parlour.
'Captain Gills,' says Mr Toots, 'and Mr Sols, I am happy to inform you that Mrs Toots has had an increase to her family.
'And it does her credit!' cries the Captain.
'I give you joy, Mr Toots!' says old Sol.
'Thank'ee,' chuckles Mr Toots, 'I'm very much obliged to you. I knew that you'd be glad to hear, and so I came down myself. We're positively getting on, you know. There's Florence, and Susan, and now here's another little stranger.'
'A female stranger?' inquires the Captain.
'Yes, Captain Gills,' says Mr Toots, 'and I'm glad of it. The oftener we can repeat that most extraordinary woman, my opinion is, the better!'
'Stand by!' says the Captain, turning to the old case-bottle with no throat - for it is evening, and the Midshipman's usual moderate provision of pipes and glasses is on the board. 'Here's to her, and may she have ever so many more!'
'Thank'ee, Captain Gills,' says the delighted Mr Toots. 'I echo the sentiment. If you'll allow me, as my so doing cannot be unpleasant to anybody, under the circumstances, I think I'll take a pipe.'
Mr Toots begins to smoke, accordingly, and in the openness of his heart is very loquacious.
'Of all the remarkable instances that that delightful woman has given of her excellent sense, Captain Gills and Mr Sols,' said Mr Toots, 'I think none is more remarkable than the perfection with which she has understood my devotion to Miss Dombey.'
Both his auditors assent.
'Because you know,' says Mr Toots, 'I have never changed my sentiments towards Miss Dombey. They are the same as ever. She is the same bright vision to me, at present, that she was before I made Walters's acquaintance. When Mrs Toots and myself first began to talk of - in short, of the tender passion, you know, Captain Gills.'
'Ay, ay, my lad,' says the Captain, 'as makes us all slue round - for which you'll overhaul the book - '
'I shall certainly do so, Captain Gills,' says Mr Toots, with great earnestness; 'when we first began to mention such subjects, I explained that I was what you may call a Blighted Flower, you know.'
The Captain approves of this figure greatly; and murmurs that no flower as blows, is like the rose.
'But Lord bless me,' pursues Mr Toots, 'she was as entirely conscious of the state of my feelings as I was myself. There was nothing I could tell her. She was the only person who could have stood between me and the silent Tomb, and she did it, in a manner to command my everlasting admiration. She knows that there's nobody in the world I look up to, as I do to Miss Dombey. Knows that there's nothing on earth I wouldn't do for Miss Dombey. She knows that I consider Miss Dombey the most beautiful, the most amiable, the most angelic of her sex. What is her observation upon that? The perfection of sense. "My dear, you're right. I think so too."'
'And so do I!' says the Captain.
'So do I,' says Sol Gills.
'Then,' resumes Mr Toots, after some contemplative pulling at his pipe, during which his visage has expressed the most contented reflection, 'what an observant woman my wife is! What sagacity she possesses! What remarks she makes! It was only last night, when we were sitting in the enjoyment of connubial bliss - which, upon my word and honour, is a feeble term to express my feelings in the society of my wife - that she said how remarkable it was to consider the present position of our friend Walters. "Here," observes my wife, "he is, released from sea-going, after that first long voyage with his young bride" - as you know he was, Mr Sols.'
'Quite true,' says the old Instrument-maker, rubbing his hands.
"'Here he is," says my wife, "released from that, immediately; appointed by the same establishment to a post of great trust and confidence at home; showing himself again worthy; mounting up the ladder with the greatest expedition; beloved by everybody; assisted by his uncle at the very best possible time of his fortunes" - which I think is the case, Mr Sols? My wife is always correct.'
'Why yes, yes - some of our lost ships, freighted with gold, have come home, truly,' returns old Sol, laughing. 'Small craft, Mr Toots, but serviceable to my boy!'
'Exactly so,' says Mr Toots. 'You'll never find my wife wrong. "Here he is," says that most remarkable woman, "so situated, - and what follows? What follows?" observed Mrs Toots. Now pray remark, Captain Gills, and Mr Sols, the depth of my wife's penetration. "Why that, under the very eye of Mr Dombey, there is a foundation going on, upon which a - an Edifice;" that was Mrs Toots's word,' says Mr Toots exultingly, "'is gradually rising, perhaps to equal, perhaps excel, that of which he was once the head, and the small beginnings of which (a common fault, but a bad one, Mrs Toots said) escaped his memory. Thus," said my wife, "from his daughter, after all, another Dombey and Son will ascend" - no "rise;" that was Mrs Toots's word - "triumphant!"'
Mr Toots, with the assistance of his pipe - which he is extremely glad to devote to oratorical purposes, as its proper use affects him with a very uncomfortable sensation - does such grand justice to this prophetic sentence of his wife's, that the Captain, throwing away his glazed hat in a state of the greatest excitement, cries:
'Sol Gills, you man of science and my ould pardner, what did I tell Wal'r to overhaul on that there night when he first took to business? Was it this here quotation, "Turn again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London, and when you are old you will never depart from it". Was it them words, Sol Gills?'
'It certainly was, Ned,' replied the old Instrument-maker. 'I remember well.'
'Then I tell you what,' says the Captain, leaning back in his chair, and composing his chest for a prodigious roar. 'I'll give you Lovely Peg right through; and stand by, both on you, for the chorus!'
Buried wine grows older, as the old Madeira did, in its time; and dust and cobwebs thicken on the bottles.
Autumn days are shining, and on the sea-beach there are often a young lady, and a white-haired gentleman. With them, or near them, are two children: boy and girl. And an old dog is generally in their company.
The white-haired gentleman walks with the little boy, talks with him, helps him in his play, attends upon him, watches him as if he were the object of his life. If he be thoughtful, the white-haired gentleman is thoughtful too; and sometimes when the child is sitting by his side, and looks up in his face, asking him questions, he takes the tiny hand in his, and holding it, forgets to answer. Then the child says:
'What, grandpa! Am I so like my poor little Uncle again?'
'Yes, Paul. But he was weak, and you are very strong.'
'Oh yes, I am very strong.'
'And he lay on a little bed beside the sea, and you can run about.'
And so they range away again, busily, for the white-haired gentleman likes best to see the child free and stirring; and as they go about together, the story of the bond between them goes about, and follows them.
But no one, except Florence, knows the measure of the white-haired gentleman's affection for the girl. That story never goes about. The child herself almost wonders at a certain secrecy he keeps in it. He hoards her in his heart. He cannot bear to see a cloud upon her face. He cannot bear to see her sit apart. He fancies that she feels a slight, when there is none. He steals away to look at her, in her sleep. It pleases him to have her come, and wake him in the morning. He is fondest of her and most loving to her, when there is no creature by. The child says then, sometimes:
'Dear grandpapa, why do you cry when you kiss me?'
He only answers, 'Little Florence! little Florence!' and smooths away the curls that shade her earnest eyes.
The voices in the waves speak low to him of Florence, day and night - plainest when he, his blooming daughter, and her husband, beside them in the evening, or sit at an open window, listening to their roar. They speak to him of Florence and his altered heart; of Florence and their ceaseless murmuring to her of the love, eternal and illimitable, extending still, beyond the sea, beyond the sky, to the invisible country far away.
Never from the mighty sea may voices rise too late, to come between us and the unseen region on the other shore! Better, far better, that they whispered of that region in our childish ears, and the swift river hurried us away!
那个长久不见白天的亮光、积满灰尘与蜘蛛网、并愈来愈老的瓶子，被拿到阳光下来了；瓶中金黄色的葡萄酒在桌子上放射出光辉。
这是最后一瓶马德拉陈萄葡酒。
“您完全正确，吉尔斯先生，”董贝先生说道。“这是很珍贵的、滋味极好的葡萄酒。”
参加宴会的船长眉飞色舞，笑逐颜开。在他发亮的前额上有一圈喜悦的光圈。
“我们好久以前许下心愿，先生，”吉尔斯先生说道，“我是说内德与我本人——”
董贝先生向船长点点头；船长心中默默地高兴，愈来愈容光焕发。
“我们将在沃尔特平安回到家里的时候喝这一瓶酒，虽然我们从来不曾想到他会回到这样的家里。如果您不反对我们过去的这个怪想的话，那么，先生，就请让我们喝这第一杯酒，为沃尔特和他的妻子祝福吧！”
“为沃尔特和他的妻子干杯！”董贝先生说道。“弗洛伦斯，我的孩子——”他转过身子去吻她。
“为沃尔特和他的妻子干杯！”图茨先生说道。“为沃尔特和他的妻子干杯！”船长大声喊道。“万岁！”船长表示非常想碰杯，董贝先生就很高兴地举出他的杯子。其他的人跟着举杯，响起了一片欢乐、愉快的叮当声，好像演奏结婚乐曲似的。
藏在地窖里的其他葡萄酒，就像马德拉陈酒一样，愈来愈陈，灰尘与蜘蛛网在瓶子上积得愈来愈厚。
董贝先生是一位白发苍苍的先生，脸上深深地留下了忧虑与痛苦的痕迹，但它们是暴风雨永远过去以后所留下的，随之而来的是一个晴朗的晚上。
他不再被雄心勃勃的计划所烦扰了。他唯一引以自豪的是他的女儿与她的丈夫。他变得沉默，安静，喜爱思考，而且总是跟他的女儿在一起。托克斯小姐在家庭聚会中不是一位不常出现的人；她为它献出了全部精力，也是一位大家所喜爱的人。她对她的曾经一度高贵显赫的恩主的爱慕是柏拉图式的；从她在公主广场受到震惊的那个早上起直到现在一直是这样，但爱慕的心情一直不曾减弱。
败落的产业中没有留下任何东西，但是每年总有一笔钱汇寄到他那里（不知是谁汇来的），而且还恳切地请求他别去寻根究底，把汇款者查找出来，同时向他保证，这是一笔偿还的债款。他跟他往日的职员商量过这件事；这位职员明确地认为可以正大光明地收下这笔钱，而且毫不怀疑，这是从过去公司经营业务时现已遗忘了的一笔交易中发生的。
这位眼睛淡褐色的单身汉已不再是单身汉；他现在已经跟头发斑白的低级职员卡克的姐姐结婚了。他有时去看望他过去的老板。但次数很少。他之所以不常去看望，头发斑白的低级职员卡克的历史是一个原因，他的姓是一个更大的原因；低级职员卡克和他的姐姐与姐夫住在一起，所以他们就一起不常去看望他过去的老板了。沃尔特有时去看他们——弗洛伦斯也一起去——；舒适的住宅中传出了钢琴与大提琴的意味深长的二重奏，有时奏出了《和睦的铁匠》这支曲子。
在发生这些变化以后的日子里，木制海军军官候补生的情况怎么样了呢？唔，他仍旧在那里，伸出右腿，密切监视着出租马车；从三角帽到扣紧的鞋，已被重新油漆过，所以他比过去更为警惕了；在他的头顶上方，辉煌地闪耀着用金字书写的两个名字：吉尔斯与卡特尔。
海军军官候补生除了他往常经营的熟悉的行业外，并没有另外开展什么新的业务。但是在伦敦肉类市场的蓝伞周围半英里左右的范围内，人们都说，吉尔斯先生过去的一些投资取得了很大的成功；在这些方面非但没有像他所想的落后于时代，而且事实上还稍稍跑在时代的前面，需要等待时间和设计发生变化。人们还在传说，吉尔斯先生的资金开始周转，而且还周转得相当快；确实无疑的是，他穿着咖啡色的衣服，衣袋里装着精密计时表，前额上架着眼镜，站在店铺门口；虽然眼睛仍像过去一样模糊多泪，但却没有为顾客不来而伤心发愁，而是露出愉快与满意的神色。
至于他的合伙人卡特尔船长，船长在头脑中对他们的业务的看法比任何实际情况都要好。如果没有海军军官候补生的帮助的话，那么就没有一条船能从伦敦港口开出去，因此船长对海军军官候补生对这个国家的商业和航海的重要性感到极为自豪。他对门上有他本人的名字感到无穷无尽的高兴；他一天之内在街上走来走去二十次，为的是从街道对过看看它；这时候他常常会说道，“爱德华•卡特尔，我的孩子，如果你的母亲知道你有一天能成为科学界的人物的话，那么这位善良的老太婆该会多么大吃一惊啊！”
可是这时图茨先生急如星火地突然前来访问海军军官候补生；当他突然出现在小客厅里的时候，他的脸很红。
“吉尔斯船长和所尔斯先生，”图茨先生说道，“我很高兴向你们报告，图茨夫人已经给她家里增添了一口人了。”
“这为她增添光彩！”船长喊道。
“我祝贺您！”老所尔说道。
“谢谢，”图茨先生吃吃地笑道，“我非常感谢你们。我知道你们听到这个消息会很高兴，所以我亲自到这里来了。你们知道，我们的情况真是十分顺利的。跟我们一起的有弗洛伦斯、苏珊，现在又增加了一个新人。”
“是个女的新人吗？”船长问道。
“是的，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，“这使我感到很高兴。我们说她是位了不起的女人，说的次数愈多我看就愈好。”
“做好准备！”船长拿起一个没有瓶颈的方瓶——因为这时是在晚上，海军军官候补生通常供应数量适当的烟斗和玻璃杯，这时都已放在餐桌上了。“为她干杯，祝她再多生几个！”
“谢谢您，吉尔斯船长，”兴高采烈的图茨先生说道，“我也为她干杯。如果您允许的话，那么我想抽一斗烟，因为我想在目前的情况下，这不会使任何人不高兴的。”
于是图茨先生就开始抽烟，并且在坦率的心情下，滔滔不绝地说起来。
“吉尔斯船长和所尔斯先生，”图茨先生说道，“这位可爱的女人多次显示她的智慧，这方面出色的事例很多；我想最了不起的是，她完全谅解我对董贝小姐的忠诚。”
他的两位听众都表示同意。
“因为你们知道，”图茨先生说道，“我从来没有改变对董贝小姐的感情。我对她的感情跟过去一样。她在我眼中的光辉形象现在就跟我认识沃尔特斯之前一样。当图茨夫人跟我第一次开始谈到——总之，在谈到男女私情的时候，您知道，吉尔斯船长。”
“是的，是的，我的孩子，”船长说道，“就是把我们玩弄得团团转的感情——，这您可以去查一查书——”
“我一定会去查的，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生十分认真地说道，“当我们第一次谈到这个问题的时候，我解释说，您知道，我是一朵您可以称为枯萎的花。”
船长十分同意这个比喻，低声说，没有什么花能比玫瑰花更好的了。
“但是上帝保佑我，”图茨先生继续说道，“她对我的感情状况就跟我自己一样完全清楚，没有什么我能告诉她的。她是唯一能站在我和沉默的坟墓之间的一个人。她以很好的方式来处理我永远保持着的这种爱慕的感情。她知道，世界上没有一个人能像董贝小姐那样使我仰慕的；她知道，世界上没有一件事我不能为董贝小姐做的。她知道，我认为董贝小姐是她们女性中最美丽、最和蔼可亲、最像天使的一位。她对这是怎么说的呢？真是聪明极了！‘我亲爱的，你是对的，我也这样想。’”
“我也这样想！”船长说道。
“我也这样想！”所尔•吉尔斯说道。
“而且，”图茨先生脸上露出极为满意的神色，沉思地、缓慢地抽着烟，然后继续说道，“我的妻子是一位多么善于观察的人！她有多么大的智慧！她的意见多么中肯！就在昨天夜里，我们坐在那里享受婚姻的幸福——说实话，以我的荣誉发誓，这个词不能有力地表达我跟妻子在一起时心中的感情——这时候她说，想想我们的朋友沃尔特斯现在的情况是多么有意思啊。‘在跟他年轻的新娘经过第一次漫长的航行之后，’我的妻子说，‘现在他已经不用再去漂洋过海了。’您知道，所尔斯先生，他现在已经不用去了。”
“完全不错，”年老的仪器制造商搓搓手，说道。
“‘现在，’我的妻子说，‘他已立刻不用再去航海了；同一个公司任命他担任国内一个很受信任的重要职务；他又显示出他卓越的才能，并沿着阶梯迅速地上升；人人都喜欢他；在他生命中最幸运的时候他还得到他舅舅的帮助。’我想这是实际情况吧，所尔斯先生，我的妻子总是正确的。”
“啊是的，是的——我们有几条装载黄金、下落不明的船现在已真正开回来了，”老所尔哈哈大笑地回答道，“船是小的，图茨先生，但对我的孩子是有用的！”
“确实是这样，”图茨先生说道。“您决不会发现我的妻子会说错的。‘现在他担任这样重要的职务，’这位极了不起的女人说，‘以后会怎样呢？以后会怎样呢？’图茨夫人说。现在，吉尔斯船长，所尔斯先生，请你们注意我妻子的深刻的洞察力吧。‘啊要知道，就在董贝先生的眼前，现在正在打下一个基础，在这个基础上正逐渐耸立起一座大——大厦，’这就是图茨夫人的话，”图茨先生兴高采烈地说道，“它也许跟他曾经当过老板的那一座相等，也许还超过它。他现在已经记不得原先那座大厦最初简朴矮小的情形了——图茨夫人说，这是个常见的，但却是个很坏的缺点——，因此，”我的妻子说，‘由于他的女儿的缘故，另一个董贝父子公司终究将会得意扬扬地——不是‘兴起’，那是图茨夫人的话——而是蓬勃发展’。”
图茨先生在他的烟斗的帮助下（他特别喜欢用烟斗来达到他发表长篇大论的目的，因为死死板板地抽它反倒会引起他不舒适的感觉），十分有力地、正确地表达了他的妻子的预言性的话语，因此船长极为兴奋地把他那顶上了光的帽子抛开，喊道：
“所尔•吉尔斯，你这位研究科学的人，我的老合伙人，沃尔特第一次去上班的那天夜里，我告诉他到书上去查找什么话，是不是这句：‘回去吧，惠廷顿，伦敦市长！当您老了的时候，您将永远不再离开它了！’我是不是说过这些话，所尔•吉尔斯？”
“确实是的，内德，”年老的仪器制造商回答道，“我记得很清楚。”
“然后我跟你说，”船长仰靠在椅背上，让胸脯平静下来，准备发出震耳欲聋的吼声。“我将从头到尾、一字不漏地给你们唱《可爱的佩格姑娘》；请你们两人准备好来参加合唱！”
藏在地窖里的葡萄酒就像马德拉陈酒一样，愈来愈陈，灰尘和蜘蛛网在瓶上积得愈来愈厚。
秋天的日子阳光灿烂，在海滨时常有一位年轻的夫人和一位白发苍苍的先生。跟他们一起的，或挨近他们身边的是两个孩子：一个男孩子，一个女孩子。一条老狗经常跟随着他们。
那位白发苍苍的先生跟那位小男孩一起散步，跟他谈话，帮助他做游戏，照顾他，看守着他，仿佛这是他的生活目的似的。如果这个孩子沉思的话，那么这位白发苍苍的先生也沉思；有时当这个孩子坐在他身旁，仰望着他的脸，向他问问题的时候，他把他的小手拉到他的手中，握着它，忘记回答；这时候这个孩子就会说：
“怎么了，老爷！我是不是又像我可爱的小舅舅了？”
“是的，保罗。但是他身体虚弱，而你却很健壮。”
“啊是的，我很健壮。”
“他在海边躺在一张小床上，而你却能跑来跑去。”
这样他们又继续忙忙碌碌地到别的地方去游逛，因为这位白发苍苍的先生最喜欢看到这孩子自由，活跃；当他们在一起走着的时候，有关他们之间的关系的传说就到处散播开来，并跟随着他们。
可是除了弗洛伦斯之外，没有一个人知道这位白发苍苍的先生对这个女孩子所怀的感情有多深。从来不曾有过这方面的流言。女孩子自己几乎也对他保守着的什么秘密感到奇怪。他把她怀抱在胸间。看到她脸上有一丝愁云他都不能忍受。看到她独自一人坐着他也不能忍受。他错觉地以为她觉得自己被冷落了，其实情况并不是这样。在她睡觉的时候，他悄悄地走去看她。早上她走来喊醒他，他感到高兴。当他们两人单独在一起的时候，他特别喜爱她，她也特别喜爱他；这时候，女孩子就会问：
“亲爱的老爷，你吻我的时候为什么哭？”
他只是回答道，“小弗洛伦斯！小弗洛伦斯！”同时把遮到她真挚的眼睛上的卷发抚平。