第289页
《简·爱(英文版)》章节:第289页,宠文网网友提供全文无弹窗免费在线阅读。!
always did, that he could not stay. 'Very well,' I responded,
mentally, 'stand if you like; but you shall not go just yet, I am
determined: solitude is at least as bad for you as it is for me.
I'll try if I cannot discover the secret spring of your confidence,
and find an aperture in that marble breast through which I can shed
one drop of the balm of sympathy.'
'Is this portrait like?' I asked bluntly.
'Like! Like whom? I did not observe it closely.'
'You did, Mr. Rivers.'
He almost started at my sudden and strange abruptness: he looked at
me astonished. 'Oh, that is nothing yet,' I muttered within. 'I
don't mean to be baffled by a little stiffness on your part; I'm
prepared to go to considerable lengths.' I continued, 'You observed it
closely and distinctly; but I have no objection to your looking at
it again,' and I rose and placed it in his hand.
'A well-executed picture,' he said; 'very soft, clear colouring;
very graceful and correct drawing.'
'Yes, yes; I know all that. But what of the resemblance? Who is
it like?'
Mastering some hesitation, he answered, 'Miss Oliver, I presume.'
'Of course. And now, sir, to reward you for the accurate guess, I
will promise to paint you a careful and faithful duplicate of this
very picture, provided you admit that the gift would be acceptable
to you. I don't wish to throw away my time and trouble on an
offering you would deem worthless.'
He continued to gaze at the picture: the longer he looked, the
firmer he held it, the more he seemed to covet it. 'It is like!' he
murmured; 'the eye is well managed: the colour, light, expression, are
perfect. It smiles!'
'Would it comfort, or would it wound you to have a similar
painting? Tell me that. When you are at Madagascar, or at the Cape, or
in India, would it be a consolation to have that memento in your
possession? or would the sight of it bring recollections calculated to
enervate and distress?'
He now furtively raised his eyes: he glanced at me, irresolute,
disturbed: he again surveyed the picture.
'That I should like to have it is certain: whether it would be
judicious or wise is another question.'
Since I had ascertained that Rosamond really preferred him, and
that her father was not likely to oppose the match, I- less exalted in
my views than St. John- had been strongly disposed in my own heart
to advocate their union. It seemed to me that, should he become the
possessor of Mr. Oliver's large fortune, he might do as much good with
it as if he went and laid his genius out to wither, and his strength
to waste, under a tropical sun. With this persuasion I now answered-
'As far as I can see, it would be wiser and more judicious if you
were to take to yourself the original at once.'
By this time he had sat down: he had laid the picture on the
table before him, and with his brow supported on both hands, hung
fondly over it. I discerned he was now neither angry nor shocked at my