简爱(英文版)-第23部分

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“I　am　afraid　you　are　disappointed　in　me；　Bessie。”　I　said　this　laughing：　I　perceived　that　Bessie’s　glance；　though　it　expressed　regard；　did　in　no　shape　denote　admiration。
“No；　Miss　Jane；　not　exactly：　you　are　genteel　enough；　you　look　like　a　lady；　and　it　is　as　much　as　ever　I　expected　of　you：　you　were　no　beauty　as　a　child。”
I　smiled　at　Bessie’s　frank　answer：　I　felt　that　it　was　correct；　but　I　confess　I　was　not　quite　indifferent　to　its　import：　at　eighteen　most　people　wish　to　please；　and　the　conviction　that　they　have　not　an　exterior　likely　to　second　that　desire　brings　anything　but　gratification。
“I　dare　say　you　are　clever；　though；”　continued　Bessie；　by　way　of　solace。　“What　can　you　do？　Can　you　play　on　the　piano？”
“A　little。”
There　was　one　in　the　room；　Bessie　went　and　opened　it；　and　then　asked　me　to　sit　down　and　give　her　a　tune：　I　played　a　waltz　or　two；　and　she　was　charmed。
“The　Miss　Reeds　could　not　play　as　well！”　said　she　exultingly。　“I　always　said　you　would　surpass　them　in　learning：　and　can　you　draw？”
“That　is　one　of　my　paintings　over　the　chimney…piece。”　It　was　a　landscape　in　water　colours；　of　which　I　had　made　a　present　to　the　superintendent；　in　acknowledgment　of　her　obliging　mediation　with　the　mittee　on　my　behalf；　and　which　she　had　framed　and　glazed。
“Well；　that　is　beautiful；　Miss　Jane！　It　is　as　fine　a　picture　as　any　Miss　Reed’s　drawing…master　could　paint；　let　alone　the　young　ladies　themselves；　who　could　not　e　near　it：　and　have　you　learnt　French？”
“Yes；　Bessie；　I　can　both　read　it　and　speak　it。”
“And　you　can　work　on　muslin　and　canvas？”
“I　can。”
“Oh；　you　are　quite　a　lady；　Miss　Jane！　I　knew　you　would　be：　you　will　get　on　whether　your　relations　notice　you　or　not。　There　was　something　I　wanted　to　ask　you。　Have　you　ever　heard　anything　from　your　father’s　kinsfolk；　the　Eyres？”
“Never　in　my　life。”
“Well；　you　know　Missis　always　said　they　were　poor　and　quite　despicable：　and　they　may　be　poor；　but　I　believe　they　are　as　much　gentry　as　the　Reeds　are；　for　one　day；　nearly　seven　years　ago；　a　Mr。　Eyre　came　to　Gateshead　and　wanted　to　see　you；　Missis　said　you　were　it　school　fifty　miles　off；　he　seemed　so　much　disappointed；　for　he　could　not　stay：　he　was　going　on　a　voyage　to　a　foreign　country；　and　the　ship　was　to　sail　from　London　in　a　day　or　tan；　and　I　believe　he　was　your　father’s　brother。”
“What　foreign　country　was　he　going　to；　Bessie？”
“An　island　thousands　of　miles　off；　where　they　make　wine—the　butler　did　tell　me—”
“Madeira？”　I　suggested。
“Yes；　that　is　it—that　is　the　very　word。”
“So　he　went？”
“Yes；　he　did　not　stay　many　minutes　in　the　house：　Missis　was　very　high　with　him；　she　called　him　afterwards　a　‘sneaking　tradesman。’　My　Robert　believes　he　was　a　wine…merchant。”
“Very　likely；”　I　returned；　“or　perhaps　clerk　or　agent　to　a　wine…　merchant。”
Bessie　and　I　conversed　about　old　times　an　hour　longer；　and　then　she　was　obliged　to　leave　me：　I　saw　her　again　for　a　few　minutes　the　next　morning　at　Lowton；　while　I　was　waiting　for　the　coach。　We　parted　finally　at　the　door　of　the　Brocklehurst　Arms　there：　each　went　her　separate　way；　she　set　off　for　the　brow　of　Lowood　Fell　to　meet　the　conveyance　which　was　to　take　her　back　to　Gateshead；　I　mounted　the　vehicle　which　was　to　bear　me　to　new　duties　and　a　new　life　in　the　unknown　environs　of　Millcote。
Chapter　11
A　new　chapter　in　a　novel　is　something　like　a　new　scene　in　a　play；　and　when　I　draw　up　the　curtain　this　time；　reader；　you　must　fancy　you　see　a　room　in　the　George　Inn　at　Millcote；　with　such　large　figured　papering　on　the　walls　as　inn　rooms　have；　such　a　carpet；　such　furniture；　such　ornaments　on　the　mantelpiece；　such　prints；　including　a　portrait　of　George　the　Third；　and　another　of　the　Prince　of　Wales；　and　a　representation　of　the　death　of　Wolfe。　All　this　is　visible　to　you　by　the　light　of　an　oil　lamp　hanging　from　the　ceiling；　and　by　that　of　an　excellent　fire；　near　which　I　sit　in　my　cloak　and　bon；　my　muff　and　umbrella　lie　on　the　table；　and　I　am　warming　away　the　numbness　and　chill　contracted　by　sixteen　hours’　exposure　to　the　rawness　of　an　October　day：　I　left　Lowton　at　four　o’clock　a。m。；　and　the　Millcote　town　clock　is　now　just　striking　eight。
Reader；　though　I　look　fortably　acmodated；　I　am　not　very　tranquil　in　my　mind。　I　thought　when　the　coach　stopped　here　there　would　be　some　one　to　meet　me；　I　looked　anxiously　round　as　I　descended　the　wooden　steps　the　“boots”　placed　for　my　convenience；　expecting　to　hear　my　name　pronounced；　and　to　see　some　description　of　carriage　waiting　to　convey　me　to　Thornfield。　Nothing　of　the　sort　was　visible；　and　when　I　asked　a　waiter　if　any　one　had　been　to　inquire　after　a　Miss　Eyre；　I　was　answered　in　the　negative：　so　I　had　no　resource　but　to　request　to　be　shown　into　a　private　room：　and　here　I　am　waiting；　while　all　sorts　of　doubts　and　fears　are　troubling　my　thoughts。
It　is　a　very　strange　sensation　to　inexperienced　youth　to　feel　itself　quite　alone　in　the　world；　cut　adrift　from　every　connection；　uncertain　whether　the　port　to　which　it　is　bound　can　be　reached；　and　prevented　by　many　impediments　from　returning　to　that　it　has　quitted。　The　charm　of　adventure　sweetens　that　sensation；　the　glow　of　pride　warms　it；　but　then　the　throb　of　fear　disturbs　it；　and　fear　with　me　became　predominant　when　half…an…hour　elapsed　and　still　I　was　alone。　I　bethought　myself　to　ring　the　bell。
“Is　there　a　place　in　this　neighbourhood　called　Thornfield？”　I　asked　of　the　waiter　who　answered　the　summons。
“Thornfield？　I　don’t　know；　ma’am；　I’ll　inquire　at　the　bar。”　He　vanished；　but　reappeared　instantly—
“Is　your　name　Eyre；　Miss？”
“Yes。”
“Person　here　waiting　for　you。”
I　jumped　up；　took　my　muff　and　umbrella；　and　hastened　into　the　inn…　passage：　a　man　was　standing　by　the　open　door；　and　in　the　lamp…lit　street　I　dimly　saw　a　one…horse　conveyance。
“This　will　be　your　luggage；　I　suppose？”　said　the　man　rather　abruptly　when　he　saw　me；　pointing　to　my　trunk　in　the　passage。
“Yes。”　He　hoisted　it　on　to　the　vehicle；　which　was　a　sort　of　car；　and　then　I　got　in；　before　he　shut　me　up；　I　asked　him　how　far　it　was　to　Thornfield。
“A　matter　of　six　miles。”
“How　long　shall　we　be　before　we　get　there？”
“Happen　an　hour　and　a　half。”
He　fastened　the　car　door；　climbed　to　his　own　seat　outside；　and　we　set　off。　Our　progress　was　leisurely；　and　gave　me　ample　time　to　reflect；　I　was　content　to　be　at　length　so　near　the　end　of　my　journey；　and　as　I　leaned　back　in　the　fortable　though　not　elegant　conveyance；　I　meditated　much　at　my　ease。
“I　suppose；”　thought　I；　“judging　from　the　plainness　of　the　servant　and　carriage；　Mrs。　Fairfax　is　not　a　very　dashing　person：　so　much　the　better；　I　never　lived　amongst　fine　people　but　once；　and　I　was　very　miserable　with　them。　I　wonder　if　she　lives　alone　except　this　little　girl；　if　so；　and　if　she　is　in　any　degree　amiable；　I　shall　surely　be　able　to　get　on　with　her；　I　will　do　my　best；　it　is　a　pity　that　doing　one’s　best　does　not　always　answer。　At　Lowood；　indeed；　I　took　that　resolution；　kept　it；　and　succeeded　in　pleasing；　but　with　Mrs。　Reed；　I　remember　my　best　was　always　spurned　with　scorn。　I　pray　God　Mrs。　Fairfax　may　not　turn　out　a　second　Mrs。　Reed；　but　if　she　does；　I　am　not　bound　to　stay　with　her！　let　the　worst　e　to　the　worst；　I　can　advertise　again。　How　far　are　we　on　our　road　now；　I　wonder？”
I　let　down　the　window　and　looked　out；　Millcote　was　behind　us；　judging　by　the　number　of　its　lights；　it　seemed　a　place　of　considerable　magnitude；　much　larger　than　Lowton。　We　were　now；　as　far　as　I　could　see；　on　a　sort　of　mon；　but　there　were　houses　scattered　all　over　the　district；　I　felt　we　were　in　a　different　region　to　Lowood；　more　populous；　less　picturesque；　more　stirring；　less　romantic。
The　roads　were　heavy；　the　night　misty；　my　conductor　let　his　horse　walk　all　the　way；　and　the　hour　and　a　half　extended；　I　verify　believe；　to　two　hours；　at　last　he　turned　in　his　seat　and　said—
“You’re　noan　so　far　fro’　Thornfield　now。”
Again　I　looked　out：　we　were　passing　a　church；　I　saw　its　low　broad　tower　against　the　sky；　and　its　bell　was　tolling　a　quarter；　I　saw　a　narrow　galaxy　of　lights　too；　on　a　hillside；　marking　a　village　or　hamlet。　About　ten　minutes　after；　the　driver　got　down　and　opened　a　pair　of　gates：　we　passed　through；　and　they　clashed　to　behind　us。　We　now　slowly　ascended　a　drive；　and　came　upon　the　long　front　of　a　house：　candlelight　gleamed　from　one　curtained　bow…window；　all　the　rest　were　dark。　The　car　stopped　at　the　front　door；　it　was　opened　by　a　maid…servant；　I　alighted　and　went　in。
“Will　you　walk　this　way；　ma’am？”　said　the　girl；　and　I　followed　her　across　a　square　hall　with　high　doors　all　round：　she　ushered　me　into　a　room　whose　double　illumination　of　fire　and　candle　at　first　dazzled　me；　contrasting　as　it　did　with　the　darkness　to　which　my　eyes　had　been　for　two　hours　inured；　when　I　could　see；　however；　a　cosy　and　agreeable　picture　presented　itself　to　my　view。
A　snug　small　room；　a　round　table　by　a　cheerful　fire；　an　arm…chair　high…backed　and　old…fashioned；　wherein　sat　the　neatest　imaginable　little　elderly　lady；　in　widow’s　cap；　black　silk　gown；　and　snowy　muslin　apron；　exactly　like　what　I　had　fancied　Mrs。　Fairfax；　only　less　stately　and　milder　looking。　She　was　occupied　in　knitting；　a　large　cat　sat　demurely　at　her　feet；　nothing　in　short　was　wanting　to　plete　the　beau…ideal　of　domestic