david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第146节
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room; take it up and read it。
He said nothing about it all the morning; but before he went
away in the afternoon he called me in; and told me that I need not
make myself at all uneasy about his daughter’s happiness。 He had
assured her; he said; that it was all nonsense; and he had nothing
more to say to her。 He believed he was an indulgent father (as
indeed he was); and I might spare myself any solicitude on her
account。
‘You may make it necessary; if you are foolish or obstinate; Mr。
Copperfield;’ he observed; ‘for me to send my daughter abroad
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again; for a term; but I have a better opinion of you。 I hope you will
be wiser than that; in a few days。 As to Miss Murdstone;’ for I had
alluded to her in the letter; ‘I respect that lady’s vigilance; and feel
obliged to her; but she has strict charge to avoid the subject。 All I
desire; Mr。 Copperfield; is; that it should be forgotten。 All you have
got to do; Mr。 Copperfield; is to forget it。’
All! In the note I wrote to Miss Mills; I bitterly quoted this
sentiment。 All I had to do; I said; with gloomy sarcasm; was to
forget Dora。 That was all; and what was that! I entreated Miss
Mills to see me; that evening。 If it could not be done with Mr。
Mills’s sanction and concurrence; I besought a clandestine
interview in the back kitchen where the Mangle was。 I informed
her that my reason was tottering on its throne; and only she; Miss
Mills; could prevent its being deposed。 I signed myself; hers
distractedly; and I couldn’t help feeling; while I read this
composition over; before sending it by a porter; that it was
something in the style of Mr。 Micawber。
However; I sent it。 At night I repaired to Miss Mills’s street; and
walked up and down; until I was stealthily fetched in by Miss
Mills’s maid; and taken the area way to the back kitchen。 I have
since seen reason to believe that there was nothing on earth to
prevent my going in at the front door; and being shown up into the
drawing…room; except Miss Mills’s love of the romantic and
mysterious。
In the back kitchen; I raved as became me。 I went there; I
suppose; to make a fool of myself; and I am quite sure I did it。 Miss
Mills had received a hasty note from Dora; telling her that all was
discovered; and saying。 ‘Oh pray come to me; Julia; do; do!’ But
Miss Mills; mistrusting the acceptability of her presence to the
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higher powers; had not yet gone; and we were all benighted in the
Desert of Sahara。
Miss Mills had a wonderful flow of words; and liked to pour
them out。 I could not help feeling; though she mingled her tears
with mine; that she had a dreadful luxury in our afflictions。 She
petted them; as I may say; and made the most of them。 A deep
gulf; she observed; had opened between Dora and me; and Love
could only span it with its rainbow。 Love must suffer in this stern
world; it ever had been so; it ever would be so。 No matter; Miss
Mills remarked。 Hearts confined by cobwebs would burst at last;
and then Love was avenged。
This was small consolation; but Miss Mills wouldn’t encourage
fallacious hopes。 She made me much more wretched than I was
before; and I felt (and told her with the deepest gratitude) that she
was indeed a friend。 We resolved that she should go to Dora the
first thing in the morning; and find some means of assuring her;
either by looks or words; of my devotion and misery。 We parted;
overwhelmed with grief; and I think Miss Mills enjoyed herself
completely。
I confided all to my aunt when I got home; and in spite of all she
could say to me; went to bed despairing。 I got up despairing; and
went out despairing。 It was Saturday morning; and I went straight
to the Commons。
I was surprised; when I came within sight of our office…door; to
see the ticket…porters standing outside talking together; and some
half…dozen stragglers gazing at the windows which were shut up。 I
quickened my pace; and; passing among them; wondering at their
looks; went hurriedly in。
The clerks were there; but nobody was doing anything。 Old
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Tiffey; for the first time in his life I should think; was sitting on
somebody else’s stool; and had not hung up his hat。
‘This is a dreadful calamity; Mr。 Copperfield;’ said he; as I
entered。
‘What is?’ I exclaimed。 ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Don’t you know?’ cried Tiffey; and all the rest of them; coming
round me。
‘No!’ said I; looking from face to face。
‘Mr。 Spenlow;’ said Tiffey。
‘What about him!’
‘Dead!’ I thought it was the office reeling; and not I; as one of
the clerks caught hold of me。 They sat me down in a chair; untied
my neck…cloth; and brought me some water。 I have no idea
whether this took any time。
‘Dead?’ said I。
‘He dined in town yesterday; and drove down in the phaeton by
himself;’ said Tiffey; ‘having sent his own groom home by the
coach; as he sometimes did; you know—’
‘Well?’
‘The phaeton went home without him。 The horses stopped at
the stable…gate。 The man went out with a lantern。 Nobody in the
carriage。’
‘Had they run away?’
‘They were not hot;’ said Tiffey; putting on his glasses; ‘no
hotter; I understand; than they would have been; going down at
the usual pace。 The reins were broken; but they had been
dragging on the ground。 The house was roused up directly; and
three of them went out along the road。 They found him a mile off。’
‘More than a mile off; Mr。 Tiffey;’ interposed a junior。
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‘Was it? I believe you are right;’ said Tiffey;—‘more than a mile
off—not far from the church—lying partly on the roadside; and
partly on the path; upon his face。 Whether he fell out in a fit; or got
out; feeling ill before the fit came on—or even whether he was
quite dead then; though there is no doubt he was quite
insensible—no one appears to know。 If he breathed; certainly he
never spoke。 Medical assistance was got as soon as possible; but it
was quite useless。’
I cannot describe the state of mind into which I was thrown by
this intelligence。 The shock of such an event happening so
suddenly; and happening to one with whom I had been in any
respect at variance—the appalling vacancy in the room he had
occupied so lately; where his chair and table seemed to wait for
him; and his handwriting of yesterday was like a ghost—the indefinable impossibility of separating him from the place; and
feeling; when the door opened; as if he might come in—the lazy
hush and rest there was in the office; and the insatiable relish with
which our people talked about it; and other people came in and
out all day; and gorged themselves with the subject—this is easily
intelligible to anyone。 What I cannot describe is; how; in the
innermost recesses of my own heart; I had a lurking jealousy even
of Death。 How I felt as if its might would push me from my ground
in Dora’s thoughts。 How I was; in a grudging way I have no words
for; envious of her grief。 How it made me restless to think of her
weeping to others; or being consoled by others。 How I had a
grasping; avaricious wish to shut out everybody from her but
myself; and to be all in all to her; at that unseasonable time of all
times。
In the trouble of this state of mind—not exclusively my own; I
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hope; but known to others—I went down to Norwood that night;
and finding from one of the servants; when I made my inquiries at
the door; that Miss Mills was there; got my aunt to direct a letter to
her; which I wrote。 I deplored the untimely death of Mr。 Spenlow;
most sincerely; and shed tears in doing so。 I entreated her to tell
Dora; if Dora were in a state to hear it; that he had spoken to me
with the utmost kindness and consideration; and had coupled
nothing but tenderness; not a single or reproachful word; with her
name。 I know I did this selfishly; to have my name brought before
her; but I tried to believe it was an act of justice to his memory。
Perhaps I did believe it。
My aunt received a few lines next day in reply; addressed;
outside; to her; within; to me。 Dora was overcome by grief; and
when her friend had asked her should she send her love to me;
had only cried; as she was always crying; ‘Oh; dear papa! oh; poor
papa!’ But she had not said No; and that I made the most of。
Mr。 Jorkins; who had been at Norwood since the occurrence;
came to the office a few days afterwards。 He and Tiffey were
closeted together for some few moments; and then Tiffey looked
out at the door and beckoned me in。
‘Oh!’ said Mr。 Jorkins。 ‘Mr。 Tiffey and myself; Mr。 Copperfield;
are about to examine the desks; the drawers; and other such
repositories of the deceased; with the view of sealing up his private
papers; and searching for a Will。 There is no trace of any;
elsewhere。 It may be as