第 94 节
作者:
温暖寒冬 更新:2024-04-09 19:50 字数:9229
Adam was determined to stay no longer; no one wanted him;
and no one would notice if he slipped away。 As soon as he got out
of doors; he began to walk at his habitual rapid pace; hurrying
along without knowing why; busy with the painful thought that the
memory of this day; so full of honour and promise to him; was
poisoned for ever。 Suddenly; when he was far on through the
Chase; he stopped; startled by a flash of reviving hope。 After all; he
might be a fool; making a great misery out of a trifle。 Hetty; fond of
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finery as she was; might have bought the thing herself。 It looked
too expensive for that—it looked like the things on white satin in
the great jeweller’s shop at Rosseter。 But Adam had very
imperfect notions of the value of such things; and he thought it
could certainly not cost more than a guinea。 Perhaps Hetty had
had as much as that in Christmas boxes; and there was no
knowing but she might have been childish enough to spend it in
that way; she was such a young thing; and she couldn’t help loving
finery! But then; why had she been so frightened about it at first;
and changed colour so; and afterwards pretended not to care? Oh;
that was because she was ashamed of his seeing that she had such
a smart thing—she was conscious that it was wrong for her to
spend her money on it; and she knew that Adam disapproved of
finery。 It was a proof she cared about what he liked and disliked。
She must have thought from his silence and gravity afterwards
that he was very much displeased with her; that he was inclined to
be harsh and severe towards her foibles。 And as he walked on
more quietly; chewing the cud of this new hope; his only
uneasiness was that he had behaved in a way which might chill
Hetty’s feeling towards him。 For this last view of the matter must
be the true one。 How could Hetty have an accepted lover; quite
unknown to him? She was never away from her uncle’s house for
more than a day; she could have no acquaintances that did not
come there; and no intimacies unknown to her uncle and aunt。 It
would be folly to believe that the locket was given to her by a
lover。 The little ring of dark hair he felt sure was her own; he
could form no guess about the light hair under it; for he had not
seen it very distinctly。 It might be a bit of her father’s or mother’s;
who had died when she was a child; and she would naturally put a
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bit of her own along with it。
And so Adam went to bed comforted; having woven for himself
an ingenious web of probabilities—the surest screen a wise man
can place between himself and the truth。 His last waking thoughts
melted into a dream that he was with Hetty again at the Hall
Farm; and that he was asking her to forgive him for being so cold
and silent。
And while he was dreaming this; Arthur was leading Hetty to
the dance and saying to her in low hurried tones; “I shall be in the
wood the day after to…morrow at seven; come as early as you can。”
And Hetty’s foolish joys and hopes; which had flown away for a
little space; scared by a mere nothing; now all came fluttering
back; unconscious of the real peril。 She was happy for the first
time this long day; and wished that dance would last for hours。
Arthur wished it too; it was the last weakness he meant to indulge
in; and a man never lies with more delicious languor under the
influence of a passion than when he has persuaded himself that he
shall subdue it to…morrow。
But Mrs。 Poyser’s wishes were quite the reverse of this; for her
mind was filled with dreary forebodings as to the retardation of to…
morrow morning’s cheese in consequence of these late hours。 Now
that Hetty had done her duty and danced one dance with the
young squire; Mr。 Poyser must go out and see if the cart was come
back to fetch them; for it was half…past ten o’clock; and
notwithstanding a mild suggestion on his part that it would be bad
manners for them to be the first to go; Mrs。 Poyser was resolute on
the point; “manners or no manners。”
“What! Going already; Mrs。 Poyser?” said old Mr。 Donnithorne;
as she came to curtsy and take leave; “I thought we should not
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part with any of our guests till eleven。 Mrs。 Irwine and I; who are
elderly people; think of sitting out the dance till then。”
“Oh; Your Honour; it’s all right and proper for gentlefolks to
stay up by candlelight—they’ve got no cheese on their minds。
We’re late enough as it is; an’ there’s no lettin’ the cows know as
they mustn’t want to be milked so early to…morrow mornin’。 So; if
you’ll please t’ excuse us; we’ll take our leave。”
“Eh!” she said to her husband; as they set off in the cart; “I’d
sooner ha’ brewin’ day and washin’ day together than one o’ these
pleasurin’ days。 There’s no work so tirin’ as danglin’ about an’
starin’ an’ not rightly knowin’ what you’re goin’ to do next; and
keepin’ your face i’ smilin’ order like a grocer o’ market…day for
fear people shouldna think you civil enough。 An’ you’ve nothing to
show for ’t when it’s done; if it isn’t a yallow face wi’ eatin’ things
as disagree。”
“Nay; nay;” said Mr。 Poyser; who was in his merriest mood; and
felt that he had had a great day; “a bit o’ pleasuring’s good for thee
sometimes。 An’ thee danc’st as well as any of ’em; for I’ll back thee
against all the wives i’ the parish for a light foot an’ ankle。 An’ it
was a great honour for the young squire to ask thee first—I reckon
it was because I sat at th’ head o’ the table an’ made the speech。
An’ Hetty too—she never had such a partner before—a fine young
gentleman in reg’mentals。 It’ll serve you to talk on; Hetty; when
you’re an old woman—how you danced wi’ th’ young squire the
day he come o’ age。”
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Book Fourth
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Chapter XXVII
A Crisis
t was beyond the middle of August—nearly three weeks after
the birthday feast。 The reaping of the wheat had begun in our
I
north midland county of Loamshire; but the harvest was likely
still to be retarded by the heavy rains; which were causing
inundations and much damage throughout the country。 From this
last trouble the Broxton and Hayslope farmers; on their pleasant
uplands and in their brook…watered valleys; had not suffered; and
as I cannot pretend that they were such exceptional farmers as to
love the general good better than their own; you will infer that
they were not in very low spirits about the rapid rise in the price of
bread; so long as there was hope of gathering in their own corn
undamaged; and occasional days of sunshine and drying winds
flattered this hope。
The eighteenth of August was one of these days when the
sunshine looked brighter in all eyes for the gloom that went
before。 Grand masses of cloud were hurried across the blue; and
the great round hills