little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第14章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


dumb　church　organ。　Her　son　thought　so　（it　was　an　old　thought　with　him）；
while　he　took　his　seat　beside　it。

She　opened　a　drawer　or　two；　looked　over　some　business　papers；　and　put
them　back　again。　Her　severe　face　had　no　thread　of　relaxation　in　it；　by
which　any　explorer　could　have　been　guided　to　the　gloomy　labyrinth　of　her
thoughts。

'Shall　I　speak　of　our　affairs；　mother？　Are　you　inclined　to　enter　upon
business？'

'Am　I　inclined；　Arthur？　Rather；　are　you？　Your　father　has　been　dead　a
year　and　more。　I　have　been　at　your　disposal；　and　waiting　your　pleasure；
ever　since。'

'There　was　much　to　arrange　before　I　could　leave；　and　when　I　did　leave；　I
travelled　a　little　for　rest　and　relief。'

She　turned　her　face　towards　him；　as　not　having　heard　or　understood　his
last　words。　'For　rest　and　relief。'

She　glanced　round　the　sombre　room；　and　appeared　from　the　motion　of　her
lips　to　repeat　the　words　to　herself；　as　calling　it　to　witness　how　little
of　either　it　afforded　her。

'Besides；　mother；　you　being　sole　executrix；　and　having　the　direction　and
management　of　the　estate；　there　remained　little　business；　or　I　might　say
none；　that　I　could　transact；　until　you　had　had　time　to　arrange　matters
to　your　satisfaction。'

'The　accounts　are　made　out；'　she　returned。　'I　have　them　here。　The
vouchers　have　all　been　examined　and　passed。　You　can　inspect　them　when
you　like；　Arthur；　now；　if　you　please。'

'It　is　quite　enough；　mother；　to　know　that　the　business　is　pleted。
Shall　I　proceed　then？'

'Why　not？'　she　said；　in　her　frozen　way。

'Mother；　our　House　has　done　less　and　less　for　some　years　past；　and　our
dealings　have　been　progressively　on　the　decline。　We　have　never　shown
much　confidence；　or　invited　much；　we　have　attached　no　people　to　us；　the
track　we　have　kept　is　not　the　track　of　the　time；　and　we　have　been
left　far　behind。　I　need　not　dwell　on　this　to　you；　mother。　You　know　it
necessarily。'

'I　know　what　you　mean；'　she　answered；　in　a　qualified　tone。　'Even　this
old　house　in　which　we　speak；'　pursued　her　son；　'is　an　instance　of　what　I
say。　In　my　father's　earlier　time；　and　in　his　uncle's　time　before　him；
it　was　a　place　of　business……really　a　place　of　business；　and　business
resort。　Now；　it　is　a　mere　anomaly　and　incongruity　here；　out　of　date　and
out　of　purpose。　All　our　consignments　have　long　been　made　to　Rovinghams'
the　mission…merchants；　and　although；　as　a　check　upon　them；　and　in
the　stewardship　of　my　father's　resources；　your　judgment　and　watchfulness
have　been　actively　exerted；　still　those　qualities　would　have　influenced
my　father's　fortunes　equally；　if　you　had　lived　in　any　private　dwelling：
would　they　not？'

'Do　you　consider；'　she　returned；　without　answering　his　question；　'that
a　house　serves　no　purpose；　Arthur；　in　sheltering　your　infirm　and
afflicted……justly　infirm　and　righteously　afflicted……mother？'

'I　was　speaking　only　of　business　purposes。'

'With　what　object？'

'I　am　ing　to　it。'

'I　foresee；'　she　returned；　fixing　her　eyes　upon　him；　'what　it　is。
But　the　Lord　forbid　that　I　should　repine　under　any　visitation。　In　my
sinfulness　I　merit　bitter　disappointment；　and　I　accept　it。'

'Mother；　I　grieve　to　hear　you　speak　like　this；　though　I　have　had　my
apprehensions　that　you　would……'

'You　knew　I　would。　You　knew　ME；'　she　interrupted。

Her　son　paused　for　a　moment。　He　had　struck　fire　out　of　her；　and　was
surprised。

'Well！'　she　said；　relapsing　into　stone。　'Go　on。　Let　me　hear。'

'You　have　anticipated；　mother；　that　I　decide　for　my　part；　to　abandon
the　business。　I　have　done　with　it。　I　will　not　take　upon　myself　to　advise
you；　you　will　continue　it；　I　see。　If　I　had　any　influence　with　you；　I
would　simply　use　it　to　soften　your　judgment　of　me　in　causing　you　this
disappointment：　to　represent　to　you　that　I　have　lived　the　half　of　a　long
term　of　life；　and　have　never　before　set　my　own　will　against　yours。　I
cannot　say　that　I　have　been　able　to　conform　myself；　in　heart　and　spirit；
to　your　rules；　I　cannot　say　that　I　believe　my　forty　years　have　been
profitable　or　pleasant　to　myself；　or　any　one；　but　I　have　habitually
submitted；　and　I　only　ask　you　to　remember　it。'

Woe　to　the　suppliant；　if　such　a　one　there　were　or　ever　had　been；　who　had
any　concession　to　look　for　in　the　inexorable　face　at　the　cabi。　Woe　to
the　defaulter　whose　appeal　lay　to　the　tribunal　where　those　severe　eyes
presided。　Great　need　had　the　rigid　woman　of　her　mystical　religion；
veiled　in　gloom　and　darkness；　with　lightnings　of　cursing；　vengeance；　and
destruction；　flashing　through　the　sable　clouds。　Forgive　us　our　debts　as
we　forgive　our　debtors；　was　a　prayer　too　poor　in　spirit　for　her。　Smite
Thou　my　debtors；　Lord；　wither　them；　crush　them；　do　Thou　as　I　would　do；
and　Thou　shalt　have　my　worship：　this　was　the　impious　tower　of　stone　she
built　up　to　scale　Heaven。

'Have　you　finished；　Arthur；　or　have　you　anything　more　to　say　to　me？

I　think　there　can　be　nothing　else。　You　have　been　short；　but　full　of
matter！'

'Mother；　I　have　yet　something　more　to　say。　It　has　been　upon　my　mind；
night　and　day；　this　long　time。　It　is　far　more　difficult　to　say　than　what
I　have　said。　That　concerned　myself；　this　concerns　us　all。'

'Us　all！　Who　are　us　all？'

'Yourself；　myself；　my　dead　father。'

She　took　her　hands　from　the　desk；　folded　them　in　her　lap；　and　sat
looking　towards　the　fire；　with　the　imperability　of　an　old　Egyptian
sculpture。

'You　knew　my　father　infinitely　better　than　I　ever　knew　him；　and　his
reserve　with　me　yielded　to　you。　You　were　much　the　stronger；　mother；　and
directed　him。　As　a　child；　I　knew　it　as　well　as　I　know　it　now。　I　knew
that　your　ascendancy　over　him　was　the　cause　of　his　going　to　China　to
take　care　of　the　business　there；　while　you　took　care　of　it　here　（though
I　do　not　even　now　know　whether　these　were　really　terms　of　separation
that　you　agreed　upon）；　and　that　it　was　your　will　that　I　should　remain
with　you　until　I　was　twenty；　and　then　go　to　him　as　I　did。　You　will　not
be　offended　by　my　recalling　this；　after　twenty　years？'

'I　am　waiting　to　hear　why　you　recall　it。'

He　lowered　his　voice；　and　said；　with　manifest　reluctance；　and　against
his　will：

'I　want　to　ask　you；　mother；　whether　it　ever　occurred　to　you　to
suspect……'

At　the　word　Suspect；　she　turned　her　eyes　momentarily　upon　her　son；　with
a　dark　frown。　She　then　suffered　them　to　seek　the　fire；　as　before；　but
with　the　frown　fixed　above　them；　as　if　the　sculptor　of　old　Egypt　had
indented　it　in　the　hard　granite　face；　to　frown　for　ages。

'……that　he　had　any　secret　remembrance　which　caused　him　trouble　of
mind……remorse？　Whether　you　ever　observed　anything　in　his　conduct
suggesting　that；　or　ever　spoke　to　him　upon　it；　or　ever　heard　him　hint　at
such　a　thing？'

'I　do　not　understand　what　kind　of　secret　remembrance　you　mean　to　infer
that　your　father　was　a　prey　to；'　she　returned；　after　a　silence。　'You
speak　so　mysteriously。'

'Is　it　possible；　mother；'　her　son　leaned　forward　to　be　the　nearer　to　her
while　he　whispered　it；　and　laid　his　hand　nervously　upon　her　desk；　'is
it　possible；　mother；　that　he　had　unhappily　wronged　any　one；　and　made　no
reparation？'

Looking　at　him　wrathfully；　she　bent　herself　back　in　her　chair　to　keep
him　further　off；　but　gave　him　no　reply。

'I　am　deeply　sensible；　mother；　that　if　this　thought　has　never　at　any
time　flashed　upon　you；　it　must　seem　cruel　and　unnatural　in　me；　even　in
this　confidence；　to　breathe　it。　But　I　cannot　shake　it　off。

Time　and　change　（I　have　tried　both　before　breaking　silence）　do　nothing
to　wear　it　out。　Remember；　I　was　with　my　father。　Remember；　I　saw　his　face
when　he　gave　the　watch　into　my　keeping；　and　struggled　to　express　that　he
sent　it　as　a　token　you　would　understand；　to　you。　Remember；　I　saw　him　at
the　last　with　the　pencil　in　his　failing　hand；　trying　to　write　some　word
for　you　to　read；　but　to　which　he　could　give　no　shape。　The　more
remote　and　cruel　this　vague　suspicion　that　I　have；　the　stronger　the
circumstances　that　could　give　it　any　semblance　of　probability　to　me。
For　Heaven's　sake；　let　us　examine　sacredly　whether　there　is　any　wrong
entrusted　to　us　to　set　right。　No　one　can　help　towards　it；　mother；　but
you。'

Still　so　recoiling　in　her　chair　that　her　overpoised　weight　moved　it；
from　time　to　time；　a　little　on　its　wheels；　and　g