简爱(英文版)-第12部分

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　on　for　an　hour；　writing　and　arithmetic　succeeded；　and　music　lessons　were　given　by　Miss　Temple　to　some　of　the　elder　girls。　The　duration　of　each　lesson　was　measured　by　the　clock；　which　at　last　struck　twelve。　The　superintendent　rose—
“I　have　a　word　to　address　to　the　pupils；”　said　she。
The　tumult　of　cessation　from　lessons　was　already　breaking　forth；　but　it　sank　at　her　voice。　She　went　on—
“You　had　this　morning　a　breakfast　which　you　could　not　eat；　you　must　be　hungry：—I　have　ordered　that　a　lunch　of　bread　and　cheese　shall　be　served　to　all。”
The　teachers　looked　at　her　with　a　sort　of　surprise。
“It　is　to　be　done　on　my　responsibility；”　she　added；　in　an　explanatory　tone　to　them；　and　immediately　afterwards　left　the　room。
The　bread　and　cheese　was　presently　brought　in　and　distributed；　to　the　high　delight　and　refreshment　of　the　whole　school。　The　order　was　now　given　“To　the　garden！”　Each　put　on　a　coarse　straw　bon；　with　strings　of　coloured　calico；　and　a　cloak　of　grey　frieze。　I　was　similarly　equipped；　and；　following　the　stream；　I　made　my　way　into　the　open　air。
The　garden　was　a　wide　inclosure；　surrounded　with　walls　so　high　as　to　exclude　every　glimpse　of　prospect；　a　covered　verandah　ran　down　one　side；　and　broad　walks　bordered　a　middle　space　divided　into　scores　of　little　beds：　these　beds　were　assigned　as　gardens　for　the　pupils　to　cultivate；　and　each　bed　had　an　owner。　When　full　of　flowers　they　would　doubtless　look　pretty；　but　now；　at　the　latter　end　of　January；　all　was　wintry　blight　and　brown　decay。　I　shuddered　as　I　stood　and　looked　round　me：　it　was　an　inclement　day　for　outdoor　exercise；　not　positively　rainy；　but　darkened　by　a　drizzling　yellow　fog；　all　under　foot　was　still　soaking　wet　with　the　floods　of　yesterday。　The　stronger　among　the　girls　ran　about　and　engaged　in　active　games；　but　sundry　pale　and　thin　ones　herded　together　for　shelter　and　warmth　in　the　verandah；　and　amongst　these；　as　the　dense　mist　perated　to　their　shivering　frames；　I　heard　frequently　the　sound　of　a　hollow　cough。
As　yet　I　had　spoken　to　no　one；　nor　did　anybody　seem　to　take　notice　of　me；　I　stood　lonely　enough：　but　to　that　feeling　of　isolation　I　was　accustomed；　it　did　not　oppress　me　much。　I　leant　against　a　pillar　of　the　verandah；　drew　my　grey　mantle　close　about　me；　and；　trying　to　forget　the　cold　which　nipped　me　without；　and　the　unsatisfied　hunger　which　gnawed　me　within；　delivered　myself　up　to　the　employment　of　watching　and　thinking。　My　reflections　were　too　undefined　and　fragmentary　to　merit　record：　I　hardly　yet　knew　where　I　was；　Gateshead　and　my　past　life　seemed　floated　away　to　an　immeasurable　distance；　the　present　was　vague　and　strange；　and　of　the　future　I　could　form　no　conjecture。　I　looked　round　the　convent…like　garden；　and　then　up　at　the　house—a　large　building；　half　of　which　seemed　grey　and　old；　the　other　half　quite　new。　The　new　part；　containing　the　schoolroom　and　dormitory；　was　lit　by　mullioned　and　latticed　windows；　which　gave　it　a　church…like　aspect；　a　stone　tablet　over　the　door　bore　this　inscription：—
“Lowood　Institution。—This　portion　was　rebuilt　A。D。—；　by　Naomi　Brocklehurst；　of　Brocklehurst　Hall；　in　this　county。”　“Let　your　light　so　shine　before　men；　that　they　may　see　your　good　works；　and　glorify　your　Father　which　is　in　heaven。”—　St。　Matt。　v。　16。
I　read　these　words　over　and　over　again：　I　felt　that　an　explanation　belonged　to　them；　and　was　unable　fully　to　perate　their　import。　I　was　still　pondering　the　signification　of　“Institution；”　and　endeavouring　to　make　out　a　connection　between　the　first　words　and　the　verse　of　Scripture；　when　the　sound　of　a　cough　close　behind　me　made　me　turn　my　head。　I　saw　a　girl　sitting　on　a　stone　bench　near；　she　was　bent　over　a　book；　on　the　perusal　of　which　she　seemed　intent：　from　where　I　stood　I　could　see　the　title—it　was　Rasselas；　a　name　that　struck　me　as　strange；　and　consequently　attractive。　In　turning　a　leaf　she　happened　to　look　up；　and　I　said　to　her　directly—
“Is　your　book　interesting？”　I　had　already　formed　the　intention　of　asking　her　to　lend　it　to　me　some　day。
“I　like　it；”　she　answered；　after　a　pause　of　a　second　or　two；　during　which　she　examined　me。
“What　is　it　about？”　I　continued。　I　hardly　know　where　I　found　the　hardihood　thus　to　open　a　conversation　with　a　stranger；　the　step　was　contrary　to　my　nature　and　habits：　but　I　think　her　occupation　touched　a　chord　of　sympathy　somewhere；　for　I　too　liked　reading；　though　of　a　frivolous　and　childish　kind；　I　could　not　digest　or　prehend　the　serious　or　substantial。
“You　may　look　at　it；”　replied　the　girl；　offering　me　the　book。
I　did　so；　a　brief　examination　convinced　me　that　the　contents　were　less　taking　than　the　title：　Rasselas　looked　dull　to　my　trifling　taste；　I　saw　nothing　about　fairies；　nothing　about　genii；　no　bright　variety　seemed　spread　over　the　closely…printed　pages。　I　returned　it　to　her；　she　received　it　quietly；　and　without　saying　anything　she　was　about　to　relapse　into　her　former　studious　mood：　again　I　ventured　to　disturb　her—
“Can　you　tell　me　what　the　writing　on　that　stone　over　the　door　means？　What　is　Lowood　Institution？”
“This　house　where　you　are　e　to　live。”
“And　why　do　they　call　it　Institution？　Is　it　in　any　way　different　from　other　schools？”
“It　is　partly　a　charity…school：　you　and　I；　and　all　the　rest　of　us；　are　charity…children。　I　suppose　you　are　an　orphan：　are　not　either　your　father　or　your　mother　dead？”
“Both　died　before　I　can　remember。”
“Well；　all　the　girls　here　have　lost　either　one　or　both　parents；　and　this　is　called　an　institution　for　educating　orphans。”
“Do　we　pay　no　money？　Do　they　keep　us　for　nothing？”
“We　pay；　or　our　friends　pay；　fifteen　pounds　a　year　for　each。”
“Then　why　do　they　call　us　charity…children？”
“Because　fifteen　pounds　is　not　enough　for　board　and　teaching；　and　the　deficiency　is　supplied　by　subscription。”
“Who　subscribes？”
“Different　benevolent…minded　ladies　and　gentlemen　in　this　neighbourhood　and　in　London。”
“Who　was　Naomi　Brocklehurst？”
“The　lady　who　built　the　new　part　of　this　house　as　that　tablet　records；　and　whose　son　overlooks　and　directs　everything　here。”
“Why？”
“Because　he　is　treasurer　and　manager　of　the　establishment。”
“Then　this　house　does　not　belong　to　that　tall　lady　who　wears　a　watch；　and　who　said　we　were　to　have　some　bread　and　cheese？”
“To　Miss　Temple？　Oh；　no！　I　wish　it　did：　she　has　to　answer　to　Mr。　Brocklehurst　for　all　she　does。　Mr。　Brocklehurst　buys　all　our　food　and　all　our　clothes。”
“Does　he　live　here？”
“No—two　miles　off；　at　a　large　hall。”
“Is　he　a　good　man？”
“He　is　a　clergyman；　and　is　said　to　do　a　great　deal　of　good。”
“Did　you　say　that　tall　lady　was　called　Miss　Temple？”
“Yes。”
“And　what　are　the　other　teachers　called？”
“The　one　with　red　cheeks　is　called　Miss　Smith；　she　attends　to　the　work；　and　cuts　out—for　we　make　our　own　clothes；　our　frocks；　and　pelisses；　and　everything；　the　little　one　with　black　hair　is　Miss　Scatcherd；　she　teaches　history　and　grammar；　and　hears　the　second　class　repetitions；　and　the　one　who　wears　a　shawl；　and　has　a　pocket…　handkerchief　tied　to　her　side　with　a　yellow　ribband；　is　Madame　Pierrot：　she　es　from　Lisle；　in　France；　and　teaches　French。”
“Do　you　like　the　teachers？”
“Well　enough。”
“Do　you　like　the　little　black　one；　and　the　Madame　—？—I　cannot　pronounce　her　name　as　you　do。”
“Miss　Scatcherd　is　hasty—you　must　take　care　not　to　offend　her；　Madame　Pierrot　is　not　a　bad　sort　of　person。”
“But　Miss　Temple　is　the　best—isn’t　she？”
“Miss　Temple　is　very　good　and　very　clever；　she　is　above　the　rest；　because　she　knows　far　more　than　they　do。”
“Have　you　been　long　here？”
“Two　years。”
“Are　you　an　orphan？”
“My　mother　is　dead。”
“Are　you　happy　here？”
“You　ask　rather　too　many　questions。　I　have　given　you　answers　enough　for　the　present：　now　I　want　to　read。”
But　at　that　moment　the　summons　sounded　for　dinner；　all　re…entered　the　house。　The　odour　which　now　filled　the　refectory　was　scarcely　more　appetising　than　that　which　had　regaled　our　nostrils　at　breakfast：　the　dinner　was　served　in　two　huge　tin…plated　vessels；　whence　rose　a　strong　steam　redolent　of　rancid　fat。　I　found　the　mess　to　consist　of　indifferent　potatoes　and　strange　shreds　of　rusty　meat；　mixed　and　cooked　together。　Of　this　preparation　a　tolerably　abundant　plateful　was　apportioned　to　each　pupil。　I　ate　what　I　could；　and　wondered　within　myself　whether　every　day’s　fare　would　be　like　this。
After　dinner；　we　immediately　adjourned　to　the　schoolroom：　lessons　remenced；　and　were　continued　till　five　o’clock。
The　only　marked　event　of　the　afternoon　was；　that　I　saw　the　girl　with　whom　I　had　conversed　in　the　verandah　dismissed　in　disgrace　by　Miss　Scatcherd　from　a　history　class；　and　sent　to　stand　in　the　middle　of　the　large　schoolroom。　The　punishment　seemed　to　me　in　a　high　degree　ignominious；　especially　for　so　great　a　girl—she　looked　thirteen　or　upwards。　I　expected　she　would　show　signs　of　great　distress　and　shame；　but　to　my　surprise　she　neither　wept　nor　blushed：　posed；　though　grave；　she　stood；　the　central　mark　of　all　eyes。　“Holy？”　I　asked　of　myself。　“Were　I　in　her　place；　it　seems　to　me　I　should　wish　the　earth　to　open　and　swallow　me　up。　She　looks　as　if　she　were　thinking　of　something　beyond　her　punishment—beyond　her　situation：　of　something　not　round　her　nor　before　her。　I　have　heard　o