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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。 



Charles Dickens                                                      ElecBook Classics 


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                                    Bleak House                                       29 



    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!” 



Charles Dickens                                                        ElecBook Classics 


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                                   Bleak House                                      30 



    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— 



Charles Dickens                                                      ElecBook Classics 


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                                   Bleak House                                      31 



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 



Charles Dickens                                                      ElecBook Classics 


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                                   Bleak House                                      32 



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 

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