第305页
《简·爱(英文版)》章节:第305页,宠文网网友提供全文无弹窗免费在线阅读。!
St. John arrived first. I had entreated him to keep quite clear
of the house till everything was arranged: and, indeed, the bare
idea of the commotion, at once sordid and trivial, going on within its
walls sufficed to scare him to estrangement. He found me in the
kitchen, watching the progress of certain cakes for tea, then
baking. Approaching the hearth, he asked, 'If I was at last
satisfied with housemaid's work?' I answered by inviting him to
accompany me on a general inspection of the result of my labours. With
some difficulty, I got him to make the tour of the house. He just
looked in at the doors I opened; and when he had wandered upstairs and
downstairs, he said I must have gone through a great deal of fatigue
and trouble to have effected such considerable changes in so short a
time: but not a syllable did he utter indicating pleasure in the
improved aspect of his abode.
This silence damped me. I thought perhaps the alterations had
disturbed some old associations he valued. I inquired whether this was
the case: no doubt in a somewhat crestfallen tone.
'Not at all; he had, on the contrary, remarked that I had
scrupulously respected every association: he feared, indeed, I must
have bestowed more thought on the matter than it was worth. How many
minutes, for instance, had I devoted to studying the arrangement of
this very room?- By the bye, could I tell him where such a book was?'
I showed him the volume on the shelf: he took it down, and
withdrawing to his accustomed window recess, he began to read it.
Now, I did not like this, reader. St. John was a good man; but I
began to feel he had spoken truth of himself when he said he was
hard and cold. The humanities and amenities of life had no
attraction for him- its peaceful enjoyments no charm. Literally, he
lived only to aspire- after what was good and great, certainly; but
still he would never rest, nor approve of others resting round him. As
I looked at his lofty forehead, still and pale as a white stone- at
his fine lineaments fixed in study- I comprehended all at once that he
would hardly make a good husband: that it would be a trying thing to
be his wife. I understood, as by inspiration, the nature of his love
for Miss Oliver; I agreed with him that it was but a love of the
senses. I comprehended how he should despise himself for the
feverish influence it exercised over him; how he should wish to stifle
and destroy it; how he should mistrust its ever conducing
permanently to his happiness or hers. I saw he was of the material
from which nature hews her heroes- Christian and Pagan- her lawgivers,
her statesmen, her conquerors: a steadfast bulwark for great interests
to rest upon; but, at the fireside, too often a cold cumbrous
column, gloomy and out of place.
'This parlour is not his sphere,' I reflected: 'the Himalayan ridge
or Caffre bush, even the plague-cursed Guinea Coast swamp would suit