elizabeth and her german garden-第20节

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r　for　trials；　I　don't　believe　it。　Such　things　must　sour　us；　just　as　happiness　must　sweeten　us；　and　make　us　kinder；　and　more　gentle。　　And　will　anybody　affirm　that　it　behoves　us　to　be　more　thankful　for　trials　than　for　blessings？　We　were　meant　to　be　happy；　and　to　accept　all　the　happiness　offered　with　thankfulnessindeed；　we　are　none　of　us　ever　thankful　enough；　and　yet　we　each　get　so　much；　so　very　much；　more　than　we　deserve。　I　know　a　womanshe　stayed　with　me　last　summerwho　rejoices　grimly　when　those　she　loves　suffer。　　She　believes　that　it　is　our　lot；　and　that　it　braces　us　and　does　us　good；　and　she　would　shield　no　one　from　even　unnecessary　pain；　she　weeps　with　the　sufferer；　but　is　convinced　it　is　all　for　the　best。　　Well；　let　her　continue　in　her　dreary　beliefs；　she　has　no　garden　to　teach　her　the　beauty　and　the　happiness　of　holiness；　nor　does　she　in　the　least　desire　to　possess　one；　her　convictions　have　the　sad　gray　colouring　of　the　dingy　streets　and　houses　she　lives　amongstthe　sad　colour　of　humanity　in　masses。　Submission　to　what　people　call　their　〃lot〃　is　simply　ignoble。　If　your　lot　makes　you　cry　and　be　wretched；　get　rid　of　it　and　take　another；　strike　out　for　yourself；　don't　listen　to　the　shrieks　of　your　relations；　to　their　gibes　or　their　entreaties；　don't　let　your　own　microscopic　set　prescribe　your　goings…out　and　comings…in；　don't　be　afraid　of　public　opinion　in　the　shape　of　the　neighbour　in　the　next　house；　when　all　the　world　is　before　you　new　and　shining；　and　everything　is　possible；　if　you　will　only　be　energetic　and　independent　and　seize　opportunity　by　the　scruff　of　the　neck。

〃To　hear　you　talk；〃　said　Irais；　〃no　one　would　ever　imagine　that　you　dream　away　your　days　in　a　garden　with　a　book；　and　that　you　never　in　your　life　seized　anything　by　the　scruff　of　its　neck。　And　what　is　scruff？　　I　hope　I　have　not　got　any　on　me。〃　And　she　craned　her　neck　before　the　glass。

She　and　Minora　were　going　to　help　me　decorate　the　trees；　but　very　soon　Irais　wandered　off　to　the　piano；　and　Minora　was　tired　and　took　up　a　book；　so　I　called　in　Miss　Jones　and　the　babies　it　was　Miss　Jones's　last　public　appearance；　as　I　shall　relate　and　after　working　for　the　best　part　of　two　days　they　were　finished；　and　looked　like　lovely　ladies　in　widespreading；　sparkling　petticoats；　holding　up　their　skirts　with　glittering　fingers。　Minora　wrote　a　long　description　of　them　for　a　chapter　of　her　book　which　is　headed　Noel；I　saw　that　much；　because　she　left　it　open　on　the　table　while　she　went　to　talk　to　Miss　Jones。　They　were　fast　friends　from　the　very　first；　and　though　it　is　said　to　be　natural　to　take　to　one's　own　countrymen；　I　am　unable　altogether　to　sympathise　with　such　a　reason　for　sudden　affection。

〃I　wonder　what　they　talk　about？〃　　I　said　to　Irais　yesterday；　when　there　was　no　getting　Minora　to　come　to　tea；　so　deeply　was　she　engaged　in　conversation　with　Miss　Jones。

〃Oh；　my　dear；　how　can　I　tell？　　Lovers；　I　suppose；　or　else　they　think　they　are　clever；　and　then　they　talk　rubbish。〃

〃Well；　of　course；　Minora　thinks　she　is　clever。〃

〃I　suppose　she　does。　　What　does　it　matter　what　she　thinks？　Why　does　your　governess　look　so　gloomy？　　When　I　see　her　at　luncheon　I　always　imagine　she　must　have　just　heard　that　somebody　is　dead。　But　she　can't　hear　that　every　day。　　What　is　the　matter　with　her？　〃

〃I　don't　think　she　feels　quite　as　proper　as　she　looks；〃　I　said　doubtfully；　I　was　for　ever　trying　to　account　for　Miss　Jones's　expression。

〃But　that　must　be　rather　nice；〃　said　Irais。　　〃It　would　be　awful　for　her　if　she　felt　exactly　the　same　as　she　looks。〃

At　that　moment　the　door　leading　into　the　schoolroom　opened　softly；　and　the　April　baby；　tired　of　playing；　came　in　and　sat　down　at　my　feet；　leaving　the　door　open；　and　this　is　what　we　heard　Miss　Jones　saying

〃Parents　are　seldom　wise；　and　the　strain　the　conscientious　place　upon　themselves　to　appear　so　before　their　children　and　governess　must　be　terrible。　Nor　are　clergymen　more　pious　than　other　men；　yet　they　have　continually　to　pose　before　their　flock　as　such。　　As　for　governesses；　Miss　Minora；　I　know　what　I　am　saying　when　I　affirm　that　there　is　nothing　more　intolerable　than　to　have　to　be　polite；　and　even　humble；　to　persons　whose　weaknesses　and　follies　are　glaringly　apparent　in　every　word　they　utter；　and　to　be　forced　by　the　presence　of　children　and　employers　to　a　dignity　of　manner　in　no　way　corresponding　to　one's　feelings。　　The　grave　father　of　a　family；　who　was　probably　one　of　the　least　respectable　of　bachelors；　is　an　interesting　study　at　his　own　table；　where　he　is　constrained　to　assume　airs　of　infallibility　merely　because　his　children　are　looking　at　him。　The　fact　of　his　being　a　parent　does　not　endow　him　with　any　supreme　and　sudden　virtue；　and　I　can　assure　you　that　among　the　eyes　fixed　upon　him；　not　the　least　critical　and　amused　are　those　of　the　humble　person　who　fills　the　post　of　governess。〃

〃Oh；　Miss　Jones；　how　lovely！〃　we　heard　Minora　say　in　accents　of　rapture；　while　we　sat　transfixed　with　horror　at　these　sentiments。　　〃Do　you　mind　if　I　put　that　down　in　my　book？　You　say　it　all　so　beautifully。〃

〃Without　a　few　hours　of　relaxation；〃　continued　Miss　Jones；　〃of　private　indemnification　for　the　toilsome　virtues　displayed　in　public；　who　could　wade　through　days　of　correct　behaviour？　There　would　be　no　reaction；　no　room　for　better　impulses；　no　place　for　repentance。　　Parents；　priests；　and　governesses　would　be　in　the　situation　of　a　stout　lady　who　never　has　a　quiet　moment　in　which　she　can　take　off　her　corsets。〃

〃My　dear；　what　a　firebrand！〃　whispered　Irais。　　I　got　up　and　went　in。　They　were　sitting　on　the　sofa；　Minora　with　clasped　hands；　gazing　admiringly　into　Miss　Jones's　face；　which　wore　a　very　different　expression　from　the　one　of　sour　and　unwilling　propriety　I　have　been　used　to　seeing。

〃May　I　ask　you　to　come　to　tea？〃　　I　said　to　Minora。　And　I　should　like　to　have　the　children　a　little　while。〃

She　got　up　very　reluctantly；　but　I　waited　with　the　door　open　until　she　had　gone　in　and　the　two　babies　had　followed。　They　had　been　playing　at　stuffing　each　other's　ears　with　pieces　of　newspaper　while　Miss　Jones　provided　Minora　with　noble　thoughts　for　her　work；　and　had　to　be　tortured　afterward　with　tweezers。　I　said　nothing　to　Minora；　but　kept　her　with　us　till　dinner…time；　and　this　morning　we　went　for　a　long　sleigh…drive。　　When　we　came　in　to　lunch　there　was　no　Miss　Jones。

〃Is　Miss　Jones　ill？〃　asked　Minora。

〃She　is　gone；〃　I　said。

〃Gone？　〃

〃Did　you　never　hear　of　such　things　as　sick　mothers？〃　asked　Irais　blandly；　and　we　talked　resolutely　of　something　else。

All　the　afternoon　Minora　has　moped。　　She　had　found　a　kindred　spirit；　and　it　has　been　ruthlessly　torn　from　her　arms　as　kindred　spirits　so　often　are。　　It　is　enough　to　make　her　mope；　and　it　is　not　her　fault；　poor　thing；　that　she　should　have　preferred　the　society　of　a　Miss　Jones　to　that　of　Irais　and　myself。

At　dinner　Irais　surveyed　her　with　her　head　on　one　side。　〃You　look　so　pale；〃　she　said；　〃are　you　not　well？〃

Minora　raised　her　eyes　heavily；　with　the　patient　air　of　one　who　likes　to　be　thought　a　sufferer。　　〃I　have　a　slight　headache；〃　she　replied　gently。

〃I　hope　you　are　not　going　to　be　ill；〃　said　Irais　with　great　concern；　〃because　there　is　only　a　cow…doctor　to　be　had　here；　and　though　he　means　well；　I　believe　he　is　rather　rough。〃　　　Minora　was　plainly　startled。　　〃But　what　do　you　do　if　you　are　ill？〃　she　asked。

〃Oh；　we　are　never　ill；〃　said　I；　〃the　very　knowledge　that　there　would　be　no　one　to　cure　us　seems　to　keep　us　healthy。〃

〃And　if　any　one　takes　to　her　bed；〃　said　Irais；　〃Elizabeth　always　calls　in　the　cow…doctor。〃

Minora　was　silent。　　She　feels；　I　am　sure；　that　she　has　got　into　a　part　of　the　world　peopled　solely　by　barbarians；　and　that　the　only　civilised　creature　besides　herself　has　departed　and　left　her　at　our　mercy。　Whatever　her　reflections　may　be　her　symptoms　are　visibly　abating。


January　1st。The　service　on　New　Year's　Eve　is　the　only　one　in　the　whole　year　that　in　the　least　impresses　me　in　our　little　church；　and　then　the　very　bareness　and　ugliness　of　the　place　and　the　ceremonial　produce　an　effect　that　a　snug　service　in　a　well…lit　church　never　would。　Last　night　we　took　Irais　and　Minora；　and　drove　the　three　lonely　miles　in　a　sleigh。　　It　was　pitch…dark；　and　blowing　great　guns。　We　sat　wrapped　up　to　our　eyes　in　furs；　and　as　mute　as　a　funeral　procession。

We　are　going　to　the　burial　of　our　last　year's　sins；〃　said　Irais；　as　we　started；　and　there　certainly　was　a　funereal　sort　of　feeling　in　the　air。　　Up　in　our　gallery　pew　we　tried　to　decipher　our　chorales　by　the　light　of　the　spluttering　tallow　candles　stuck　in　holes　in　the　woodwork；　the　flames　wildly　blown　about　by　the　draughts。　The　wind　banged　against　the　windows　in　great　gusts；　screaming　louder　than　the　organ；　and　threatening　to　blow　out　the　agitated　lights　together。　The　parson　in　his　gloomy　pulpit；　surrounded　by　a　framework　of　dusty　carved　angels；　took　on　an　awful　appearance　of　menacing　Authority　as　he　raised　his　voice　to　make　himself　heard　above　the　clatter。　Sitting　there　in　the　dark；　I　felt　very　small；　and　solitary；　and　defenceless；　alone　in　a　great；　big；　black　world。　　The　church　was　as　cold　as　a　tomb；　some　of　the　candles　guttered　and　went　out；　the　parson　in　his　black　robe　spoke　of　death　and　judgment；　I　thought　I　heard　a　child's　voice　scream