bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第196节
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the door of her house in town； loving it； but afraid to look at it； that
I once sat in the theatre when my mother was there and saw me；
and when we were so wide asunder； before the great company of
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all degrees； that any link or confidence between us seemed a
dream。 It is all； all over。 My lot has been so blest that I can relate
little of myself which is not a story of goodness and generosity in
others。 I may well pass that little； and go on。
When we were settled at home again； Ada and I had many
conversations with my Guardian； of which Richard was the theme。
My dear girl was deeply grieved that he should do their kind
cousin so much wrong； but she was so faithful to Richard； that she
could not bear to blame him； even for that。 My Guardian was
assured of it； and never coupled his name with a word of reproof。
“Rick is mistaken； my dear；” he would say to her。 “Well； well！ we
have all been mistaken over and over again。 We must trust to you
and time to set him right。”
We knew afterwards what we suspected then； that he did not
trust to time until he had often tried to open Richard’s eyes。 That
he had written to him； gone to him； talked with him； tried every
gentle persuasive art his kindness could devise。 Our poor devoted
Richard was deaf and blind to all。 If he were wrong he would make
amends when the Chancery suit was over。 If he were groping in
the dark； he could not do better than do his utmost to clear away
those clouds in which so much was confused and obscured。
Suspicion and misunderstanding were the fault of the suit？ Then
let him work the suit out； and come through it to his right mind。
This was his unvarying reply。 Jarndyce and Jarndyce had
obtained such possession of his whole nature； that it was
impossible to place any consideration before him which he did
not—with a distorted kind of reason—make a new argument in
favour of his doing what he did。 “So that it is even more
mischievous；” said my Guardian once to me； “to remonstrate with
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the poor dear fellow； than to leave him alone。”
I took one of these opportunities of mentioning my doubts of Mr
Skimpole as a good adviser for Richard。
“Adviser？” returned my Guardian； laughing。 “My dear； who
would advise with Skimpole？”
“Encourager would perhaps have been a better word；” said I。
“Encourager！” returned my Guardian again。 “Who could be
encouraged by Skimpole？”
“Not Richard？” I asked。
“No；” he replied。 “Such an unworldly； uncalculating； gossamer
creature； is a relief to him； and an amusement。 But as to advising
or encouraging； or occupying a serious station towards anybody or
anything； it is simply not to be thought of in such a child as
Skimpole。”
“Pray； cousin John；” said Ada； who had just joined us； and now
looked over my shoulder； “what made him such a child？”
“What made him such a child？” inquired my Guardian； rubbing
his head； a little at a loss。
“Yes； cousin John。”
“Why；” he slowly replied； roughening his head more and more；
“he is all sentiment； and—and susceptibility； and—and
sensibility—and—and imagination。 And these qualities are not
regulated in him； somehow。 I suppose the people who admired
him for them in his youth； attached too much importance to them；
and too little to any training that would have balanced and
adjusted them； and so he became what he is。 Hey？” said my
Guardian； stopping short； and looking at us hopefully。 “What do
you think； you two？”
Ada glancing at me； said she thought it was a pity he should be
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an expense to Richard。
“So it is； so it is；” returned my Guardian； hurriedly。 “That must
not be。 We must arrange that。 I must prevent it。 That will never
do。”
And I said I thought it was to be regretted that he had ever
introduced Richard to Mr Vholes； for a present of five pounds。
“Did he？” said my Guardian； with a passing shade of vexation
on his face。 “But there you have the man。 There you have the
man！ There is nothing mercenary in that； with him。 He has no idea
of the value of money。 He introduces Rick； and then he is good
friends with Mr Vholes； and borrows five pounds of him。 He
means nothing by it； and thinks nothing of it。 He told you him self；
I’ll be bound； my dear？”
“O yes！” said I。
“Exactly！” cried my Guardian； quite triumphant。 “There you
have the man！ If he had meant any harm by it； or was conscious of
any harm in it； he wouldn’t tell it。 He tells it as he does it； in mere
simplicity。 But you shall see him in his own home； and then you’ll
understand him better。 We must pay a visit to Harold Skimpole；
and caution him on these points。 Lord bless you； my dears； an
infant； an infant！”
In pursuance of this plan； we went into London on an early day；
and presented ourselves at Mr Skimpole’s door。
He lived in a place called the Polygon； in Somers Town； where
there were at that time a number of poor Spanish refugees
walking about in cloaks； smoking little paper cigars。 Whether he
was a better tenant than one might have supposed； in
consequence of his friend Somebody always paying his rent at last；
or whether his inaptitude for business rendered it particularly
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difficult to turn him out； I don’t know； but he had occupied the
same house some years。 It was in a state of dilapidation quite
equal to our expectation。 Two or three of the area railing were
gone； the water…butt was broken； the knocker was loose； the bell
handle had been pulled off a long time； to judge from the rusty
state of the wire； and dirty footprints on the steps were the only
signs of its being inhabited。
A slatternly full…blown girl； who seemed to be bursting out at
the rents in her gown and the cracks in her shoes； like an overripe
berry； answered our knock by opening the door a very little way
and stopping up the gap with her figure。 As she knew Mr Jarndyce
（indeed Ada and I both thought that she evidently associated him
with the receipt of her wages）； she immediately relented and
allowed us to pass in。 The lock of the door being in a disabled
condition； she then applied herself to securing it with the chain；
which was not in good action either； and said would we go
upstairs？
We went upstairs to the first floor； still seeing no other furniture
than the dirty footprints。 Mr Jarndyce； without further ceremony；
entered a room there； and we followed。 It was dingy enough； and
not at all clean； but furnished with an odd kind of shabby luxury；
with a large footstool； a sofa； and plenty of cushions； an easy…chair；
and plenty of pillows； a piano； books； drawing materials； music；
newspapers； and a few sketches and pictures。 A broken pane of
glass in one of the dirty windows was papered and wafered over；
but there was a little plate of hothouse nectarines on the table； and
there was another of grapes； and another of sponge…cakes； and
there was a bottle of light wine。 Mr Skimpole himself reclined
upon the sofa； in a dressing…gown；
