第 122 节
作者:
温暖寒冬 更新:2024-04-09 19:50 字数:9283
had about the house—they’re all honest folks in the north。”
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“I never saw a prettier young woman in my life;” said the
husband。 “She’s like a pictur in a shop…winder。 It goes to one’s
’eart to look at her。”
“It ’ud have been a good deal better for her if she’d been uglier
and had more conduct;” said the landlady; who on any charitable
construction must have been supposed to have more “conduct”
than beauty。 “But she’s coming to again。 Fetch a drop more
water。”
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Chapter XXXVII
The Journey in Despair
etty was too ill through the rest of that day for any
Hquestions to be addressed to her—too ill even to think
with any distinctness of the evils that were to come。 She
only felt that all her hope was crushed; and that instead of having
found a refuge she had only reached the borders of a new
wilderness where no goal lay before her。 The sensations of bodily
sickness; in a comfortable bed; and with the tendance of the good…
natured landlady; made a sort of respite for her; such a respite as
there is in the faint weariness which obliges a man to throw
himself on the sand instead of toiling onward under the scorching
sun。
But when sleep and rest had brought back the strength
necessary for the keenness of mental suffering—when she lay the
next morning looking at the growing light which was like a cruel
task…master returning to urge from her a fresh round of hated
hopeless labour—she began to think what course she must take; to
remember that all her money was gone; to look at the prospect of
further wandering among strangers with the new clearness shed
on it by the experience of her journey to Windsor。 But which way
could she turn? It was impossible for her to enter into any service;
even if she could obtain it。 There was nothing but immediate
beggary before her。 She thought of a young woman who had been
found against the church wall at Hayslope one Sunday; nearly
dead with cold and hunger—a tiny infant in her arms。 The woman
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was rescued and taken to the parish。 “The parish!” You can
perhaps hardly understand the effect of that word on a mind like
Hetty’s; brought up among people who were somewhat hard in
their feelings even towards poverty; who lived among the fields;
and had little pity for want and rags as a cruel inevitable fate such
as they sometimes seem in cities; but held them a mark of idleness
and vice—and it was idleness and vice that brought burdens on
the parish。 To Hetty the “parish” was next to the prison in
obloquy; and to ask anything of strangers—to beg—lay in the same
far…off hideous region of intolerable shame that Hetty had all her
life thought it impossible she could ever come near。 But now the
remembrance of that wretched woman whom she had seen
herself; on her way from church; being carried into Joshua Rann’s;
came back upon her with the new terrible sense that there was
very little now to divide her from the same lot。 And the dread of
bodily hardship mingled with the dread of shame; for Hetty had
the luxurious nature of a round soft…coated pet animal。
How she yearned to be back in her safe home again; cherished
and cared for as she had always been! Her aunt’s scolding about
trifles would have been music to her ears now; she longed for it;
she used to hear it in a time when she had only trifles to hide。
Could she be the same Hetty that used to make up the butter in
the dairy with the gueldre roses peeping in at the window—she; a
runaway whom her friends would not open their doors to again;
lying in this strange bed; with the knowledge that she had no
money to pay for what she received; and must offer those
strangers some of the clothes in her basket? It was then she
thought of her locket and ear…rings; and seeing her pocket lie near;
she reached it and spread the contents on the bed before her。
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There were the locket and ear…rings in the little velvet…lined boxes;
and with them there was a beautiful silver thimble which Adam
had bought her; the words “Remember me” making the ornament
of the border; a steel purse; with her one shilling in it; and a small
red…leather case; fastening with a strap。 Those beautiful little ear…
rings; with their delicate pearls and garnet; that she had tried in
her ears with such longing in the bright sunshine on the 30th of
July! She had no longing to put them in her ears now: her head
with its dark rings of hair lay back languidly on the pillow; and the
sadness that rested about her brow and eyes was something too
hard for regretful memory。 Yet she put her hands up to her ears: it
was because there were some thin gold rings in them; which were
also worth a little money。 Yes; she could surely get some money
for her ornaments: those Arthur had given her must have cost a
great deal of money。 The landlord and landlady had been good to
her; perhaps they would help her to get the money for these
things。
But this money would not keep her long。 What should she do
when it was gone? Where should she go? The horrible thought of
want and beggary drove her once to think she would go back to
her uncle and aunt and ask them to forgive her and have pity on
her。 But she shrank from that idea again; as she might have
shrunk from scorching metal。 She could never endure that shame
before her uncle and aunt; before Mary Burge; and the servants at
the Chase; and the people at Broxton; and everybody who knew
her。 They should never know what had happened to her。 What
could she do? She would go away from Windsor—travel again as
she had done the last week; and get among the flat green fields
with the high hedges round them; where nobody could see her or
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know her; and there; perhaps; when there was nothing else she
could do; she should get courage to drown herself in some pond
like that in the Scantlands。 Yes; she would get away from Windsor
as soon as possible: she didn’t like these people at the inn to know
about her; to know that she had come to look for Captain
Donnithorne。 She must think of some reason to tell them why she
had asked for him。
With this thought she began to put the things back into her
pocket; meaning to get up and dress before the landlady came to
her。 She had her hand on the red…leather case; when it occurred to
her that there might be something in this case which she had
forgotten—something worth selling; for without knowing what she
should do with her life; she craved the means of living as long as
possible; and when we desire eagerly to find something; we are apt
to search for it in hopeless places。 No; there was nothing but
common needles and pins; and dried tulip…petals between the
paper leaves where she had written down her little money…
accounts。 But on one of th