bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第7节
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shown my mama’s grave。 I had never been told where it was。 Yet I
had never been taught to pray for any relation but my godmother。
I had more than once approached this subject of my thoughts with
Mrs Rachael; our only servant; who took my light away when I was
in bed (another very good woman; but austere to me); and she had
only said; “Esther; good night!” and gone away and left me。
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Although there were seven girls at the neighbouring school
where I was a day boarder; and although they called me little
Esther Summerson; I knew none of them at home。 All of them
were older than I; to be sure (I was the youngest there by a good
deal); but there seemed to be some other separation between us
besides that; and besides their being far more clever than I was;
and knowing much more than I did。 One of them; in the first week
of my going to the school (I remember it very well); invited me
home to a little party; to my great joy。 But my godmother wrote a
stiff letter; declining for me; and I never went。 I never went out at
all。
It was my birthday。 There were holidays at school on other
birthdays—none on mine。 There were rejoicings at home on other
birthdays; as I knew from what I heard the girls relate to one
another—there were none on mine。 My birthday was the most
melancholy day at home; in the whole year。
I have mentioned; that; unless my vanity should deceive me (as
I know it may; for I may be very vain; without suspecting it—
though indeed I don’t); my comprehension is quickened when my
affection is。 My disposition is very affectionate; and perhaps I
might still feel such a wound; if such a wound could be received
more than once; with the quickness of that birthday。
Dinner was over; and my godmother and I were sitting at the
table before the fire。 The clock ticked; the fire clicked; not another
sound had been heard in the room; or in the house; for I don’t
know how long。 I happened to look timidly up from my stitching;
across the table; at my godmother; and I saw in her face; looking
gloomily at me; “It would have been far better; little Esther; that
you had had no birthday; that you had never been born!”
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I broke out crying and sobbing; and I said; “O; dear godmother;
tell me; pray do tell me; did mama die on my birthday?”
“No;” she returned。 “Ask me no more; child!”
“O; do pray tell me something of her。 Do now; at last; dear
godmother; if you please! What did I do to her? How did I lose
her? Why am I so different from other children; and why is it my
fault; dear godmother? No; no; no; don’t go away。 O; speak to me!”
I was in a kind of fright beyond my grief; and I caught hold of
her dress; and was kneeling to her。 She had been saying all the
while; “Let me go!” But now she stood still。
Her darkened face had such power over me; that it stopped me
in the midst of my vehemence。 I put up my trembling little hand to
clasp hers; or to beg her pardon with what earnestness I might;
but withdrew it as she looked at me; and laid it on my fluttering
heart。 She raised me; sat in her chair; and standing me before her;
said; slowly; in a cold; low voice—I see her knitted brow; and
pointed finger:
“Your mother; Esther; is your disgrace; and you were hers。 The
time will come—and soon enough—when you will understand this
better; and will feel it too; as no one save a woman can。 I have
forgiven her” but her face did not relent “the wrong she did to me;
and I say no more of it; though it was greater than you will ever
know—than any one will ever know; but I; the sufferer。 For
yourself; unfortunate girl; orphaned and degraded from the first of
these evil anniversaries; pray daily that the sins of others be not
visited upon your head; according to what is written。 Forget your
mother; and leave all other people to forget her who will do her
unhappy child that greatest kindness。 Now; go!”
She checked me; however; as I was about to depart from her—
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so frozen as I was!—and added this:
“Submission; self…denial; diligent work; are the preparations for
a life begun with such a shadow on it。 You are different from other
children; Esther; because you were not born; like them; in
common sinfulness and wrath。 You are set apart。”
I went up to my room; and crept to bed; and laid my doll’s
cheek against mine wet with tears; and holding that solitary friend
upon my bosom; cried myself to sleep。 Imperfect as my
understanding of my sorrow was; I knew that I had brought no joy;
at any time; to anybody’s heart; and that I was to no one upon
earth what Dolly was to me。
Dear; dear; to think how much time we passed alone together
afterwards; and how often I repeated to the doll the story of my
birthday; and confided to her that I would try; as hard as ever I
could; to repair the fault I had been born with (of which I
confessedly felt guilty and yet innocent); and would strive as I
grew up to be industrious; contented and kind…hearted; and to do
some good to some one; and win some love to myself if I could。 I
hope it is not self…indulgent to shed these tears as I think of it。 I am
very thankful; I am cheerful; but I cannot quite help their coming
to my eyes。
There! I have wiped them away now; and can go on again
properly。
I felt the distance between my godmother and myself so much
more after the birthday; and felt so sensible of filling a place in her
house which ought to have been empty; that I found her more
difficult of approach; though I was fervently grateful to her in my
heart; than ever。 I felt in the same way towards my school
companions; I felt in the same way towards Mrs Rachael; who was
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a widow; and O; towards her daughter; of whom she was proud;
who came to see her once a fortnight! I was very retired and quiet;
and tried to be very diligent。
One sunny afternoon; when I had come home from school with
my books and portfolio; watching my long shadow at my side; and
as I was gliding upstairs to my room as usual; my godmother
looked out of the parlour door; and called me back。 Sitting with
her; I found—which was very unusual indeed—a stranger。 A
portly important…looking gentleman; dressed all in black; with a
white cravat; large gold watch seals; a pair of gold eyeglasses; and
a large seal…ring upon his little finger。
“This;” said my godmother in an under tone; “is the child。”
Then she said; in her naturally stern way of speaking; “This is
Esther; sir。”
The gentleman put up his eyeglasses to look at me; and said;
“Come here; my dear!” He shook hands with me; and asked me to
take off my bonnet—looking at me all the while。 When I had
complied; he said; “Ah!” and afterwards “Yes!” And then; taking
off his eyeglasses; and folding them in a red case; and leaning back
in his armchair; turning the case about in his two hands he gave
my godmother a nod。 Upon that; my godmother said; “You may go
upstairs; Esther!” and I made him my curtsey and left him。
It must have