Chapter 8
百度搜索 Jane Eyre 天涯 或 Jane Eyre 天涯在线书库 即可找到本书最新章节.
Ere the half-hour ended, five o’clock struck; school was dismissed, and all were goo the refectory to tea. I now veo desd: it was deep dusk; I retired into a er and sat down on the floor. The spell by which I had been so far supported began to dissolve; rea took place, and soon, so overwhelming was the grief that seized me, I sank prostrate with my face to the ground. Now I wept: Helen Burns was not here; nothing sustained me; left to myself I abandoned myself, and my tears watered the boards. I had meant to be so good, and to do so much at Lowood: to make so many friends, to earn resped win affe. Already I had made visible progress: that very m I had reached the head of my class; Miss Miller had praised me warmly; Miss Temple had smiled approbation; she had promised to teach me drawing, and to let me learn French, if I tio make similar improvement two months longer: and then I was well received by my fellow-pupils; treated as an equal by those of my own age, and not molested by any; now, here I lay again crushed and trodden on; and could I ever rise more?“Never,” I thought; and ardently I wished to die. While sobbing out this wish in broken ats, some one approached: I started up— again Helen Burns was near me; the fading fires just showed her ing up the long, vat room; she brought my coffee and bread.
“e, eat something,” she said; but I put both away from me, feeling as if a drop or a crumb would have choked me in my present dition. Helen regarded me, probably with surprise: I could not now abate my agitation, though I tried hard; I tio weep aloud. She sat down on the ground near me, embraced her knees with her arms, aed her head upon them; in that attitude she remained silent as an Indian. I was the first who spoke—
“Helen, why do you stay with a girl whom everybody believes to be a liar?”
“Everybody, Jane? Why, there are oy people who have heard you called so, and the world tains hundreds of millions.”
“But what have I to do with millions? The eighty, I know, despise me.”
“Jane, you are mistaken: probably not one in the school either despises or dislikes you: many, I am sure, pity you much.”
“How they pity me after what Mr. Brocklehurst has said?”
“Mr. Brocklehurst is not a god: nor is he even a great and admired man: he is little liked here; he ook steps to make himself liked. Had he treated you as an especial favourite, you would have found enemies, declared or covert, all around you; as it is, the greater number would offer you sympathy if they dared. Teachers and pupils may look coldly on you for a day or two, but friendly feelings are cealed in their hearts; and if you persevere in doing well, these feelings will ere long appear so much the more evidently for their temporary suppression. Besides, Jane”—she paused.
“Well, Helen?” said I, putting my hand into hers: she chafed my fingers gently to warm them, a on—
“If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own sce approved you, and absolved yuilt, you would not be without friends.”
“No; I know I should think well of myself; but that is not enough: if others don’t love me I would rather die than live—I ot bear to be solitary and hated, Helen. Look here; to gain some real affe from you, or Miss Temple, or any other whom I truly love, I would willingly submit to have the bone of my arm broken, or to let a bull toss me, or to stand behind a kig horse, a dash its hoof at my chest—”
“Hush, Jane! you think too much of the love of human beings; you are too impulsive, too vehement; the sn hand that created your frame, and put life into it, has provided you with other resources than your feeble self, or thaures feeble as you. Besides this earth, and besides the raen, there is an invisible world and a kingdom of spirits: that world is round us, for it is everywhere; and those spirits watch us, for they are issioo guard us; and if we were dying in pain and shame, if s smote us on all sides, and hatred crushed us, angels see our tortures, reise our innoce (if i we be: as I know you are of this charge which Mr. Brocklehurst has weakly and pompously repeated at sed-hand from Mrs. Reed; for I read a siure in your ardent eyes and on your clear front), and God waits only the separation of spirit from flesh to us with a full reward. Why, then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon over, ah is so certain arao happiness— to glory?”
I was silent; Helen had calmed me; but iranquillity she imparted there was an alloy of inexpressible sadness. I felt the impression of woe as she spoke, but I could not tell whe came; and when, having done speaking, she breathed a little fast and coughed a short cough, I momentarily fot my own sorrows to yield to a vague for her.
Resting my head on Helen’s shoulder, I put my arms round her waist; she drew me to her, and we reposed in silence. We had not sat long thus, when another person came in. Some heavy clouds, swept from the sky by a rising wind, had left the moon bare; and her light, streaming in through a window near, shone full both on us and on the approag figure, which we at once reised as Miss Temple.
“I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre,” said she; “I want you in my room; and as Helen Burns is with you, she may e too.”
We went; following the superinte’s guidance, we had to thread some intricate passages, and mount a staircase before we reached her apartment; it tained a good fire, and looked cheerful. Miss Temple told Helen Burns to be seated in a low arm-chair on one side of the hearth, and herself taking another, she called me to her side.
“Is it all over?” she asked, looking down at my face. “Have you cried yrief away?”
“I am afraid I never shall do that.”
“Why?”
“Because I have been wrongly accused; and you, ma’am, and everybody else, will now think me wicked.”
“We shall think you what you prove yourself to be, my child. tio act as a good girl, and you will satisfy us.”
“Shall I, Miss Temple?”
“You will,” said she, passing her arm round me. “And now tell me who is the lady whom Mr. Brocklehurst called your beress?”
“Mrs. Reed, my uncle’s wife. My uncle is dead, and he left me to her care.”
“Did she not, then, adopt you of her own accord?”
“No, ma’am; she was sorry to have to do it: but my uncle, as I have often heard the servants say, got her to promise before he died that she would always keep me.”
“Well now, Jane, you know, or at least I will tell you, that when a criminal is<big></big> accused, he is always allowed to speak in his own defence. You have been charged with falsehood; defend yourself to me as well as you . Say whatever your memory suggests is true; but add nothing and exaggerate nothing.”
I resolved, in the depth of my heart, that I would be most moderate—most correct; and, having reflected a few minutes in order te coherently what I had to say, I told her all the story of my sad childhood. Exhausted by emotion, my language was more subdued than it generally was when it developed that sad theme; and mindful of Helen’s warnings against the indulgence of rese, I infused into the narrative far less of gall and wormwood than ordinary. Thus restrained and simplified, it sounded more credible: I felt as I went on that Miss Temple fully believed me.
In the course of the tale I had mentioned Mr. Lloyd as having e to see me after the fit: for I never fot the, to me, frightful episode of the red-room: iailing which, my excitement was sure, in some degree, to break bounds; for nothing could soften in my recolle the spasm of agony which clutched my heart when Mrs. Reed spurned my wild supplication for pardon, and locked me a sed time in the dark and haunted chamber.
I had finished: Miss Temple regarded me a few minutes in silence; she then said—
“I know something of Mr. Lloyd; I shall write to him; if his reply agrees with your statement, you shall be publicly cleared from every imputation; to me, Jane, you are clear now.”
She kissed me, and still keepi her side (where I was well teo stand, for I derived a child’s pleasure from the plation of her face, her dress, her one or two ors, her white forehead, her clustered and shining curls, and beaming dark eyes), she proceeded to address Helen Burns.
“How are you to-night, Helen? Have you coughed much to-day?”
“Not quite so much, I think, ma’am.”
“And the pain in your chest?”
“It is a little better.”
Miss Temple got up, took her hand and examined her pulse; theuro her ow: as she resumed it, I heard her sigh low. She ensive a few mihen rousing herself, she said cheerfully—
“But you two are my visitors to-night; I must treat you as such.” She rang her bell.
“Barbara,” she said to the servant who answered it, “I have not yet had tea; bring the tray and place cups for these two young ladies.”
And a tray was soht. How pretty, to my eyes, did the a cups and bright teapot look, placed otle round table he fire! Hrant was the steam of the beverage, and the st of the toast! of which, however, I, to my dismay (for I was beginning to be hungry) dised only a very small portion: Miss Temple dised it too.
“Barbara,” said she, “ you n a little more bread and butter? There is not enough for three.”
Barbara went out: she returned soon—
“Madam, Mrs. Harden says she has sent up the usual quantity.”
Mrs. Harde observed, was the housekeeper: a woman after Mr. Brocklehurst’s ow, made up of equal parts of whalebone and iron.
“Oh, very well!” returned Miss Temple; “we must make it do, Barbara, I suppose.” And as the girl withdrew she added, smiling, “Fortunately, I have it in my power to supply deficies for this once.”
Having invited Helen ao approach the table, and placed before each of us a cup of tea with one delicious but thin morsel of toast, she got up, unlocked a drawer, and taking from it a parcel ed in paper, disclosed presently to our eyes a good-sized seed-cake.
“I meant to give each of you some of this to take with you,” said she, “but as there is so little toast, you must have it now,” and she proceeded to cut slices with a generous hand.
We feaste<u>藏书网</u>d that evening as oar and ambrosia; and not the least delight of the eai was the smile of gratification with which our hostess regarded us, as we satisfied our famished appetites on the delicate fare she liberally supplied.
Tea over and the tray removed, she again summoned us to the fire; we sat one on each side of her, and now a versation followed between her and Helen, which it was indeed a privilege to be admitted to hear.
Miss Temple had always something of serenity in her air, of state in her mien, of refined propriety in her language, which precluded deviation into the ardent, the excited, the eager: something which chastehe pleasure of those who looked on her and listeo her, by a trolling sense of awe; and such was my feeling now: but as to Helen Burns, I was struck with wonder.
The refreshing meal, the brilliant fire, the presend kindness of her beloved instructress, or, perhaps, more than all these, something in her own unique mind, had roused her powers withihey woke, they kindled: first, they glowed in the bright tint of her cheek, which till this hour I had never seen but pale and bloodless; then they shone in the liquid lustre of her eyes, which had suddenly acquired a beauty more singular than that of Miss Temple’s—a beauty her of fine colour nor long eyelash, nor pencilled brow, but of meaning, of movement, of radiahen her soul sat on her lips, and language flowed, from what source I ot tell. Has a girl of fourteen a heart large enough, vigorous enough, to hold the swelling spring of pure, full, fervid eloquence? Such was the characteristic of Helen’s discourse on that, to me, memorable evening; her spirit seemed hastening to live within a very brief span as much as many live during a protracted existence.
They versed of things I had never heard of; of nations and times past; of tries far away; of secrets of nature discovered uessed at: they spoke of books: how many they had read! What stores of knowledge they possessed! Then they seemed so familiar with Frenames and French authors: but my amazement reached its climax when Miss Temple asked Helen if she sometimes snatched a moment to recall the Latin her father had taught her, and taking a book from a shelf, bade her read and strue a page of Virgil; and Helen obeyed, my an of veion expanding at every sounding line. She had scarcely finished ere the bell announced bedtime! no delay could be admitted; Miss Temple embraced us both, saying, as she drew us to her heart—
“God bless you, my children!”
Helen she held a little lohan me: she let her go more relutly; it was Helen her eye followed to the door; it was for her she a sed time breathed a sad sigh; for her she wiped a tear from her cheek.
On reag the bedroom, we heard the voiiss Scatcherd: she was examining drawers; she had just pulled out Helen Burns’s, and wheered Helen was greeted with a sharp reprimand, and told that to-morrow she should have half-a-dozen of untidily folded articles pio her shoulder.
“My things were indeed in shameful disorder,” murmured Helen to me, in a low voice: “I inteo have arrahem, but I fot.”
m, Miss Scatcherd wrote in spicuous characters on a piece of pasteboard the word “Slattern,” and bound it like a phylactery round Helen’s large, mild, intelligent, and benign- looking forehead. She wore it till evening, patient, uful, regarding it as a deserved punishment. The moment Miss Scatcherd withdrew after afternoon school, I ran to Helen, tore it off, and thrust it into the fire: the fury of which she was incapable had been burning in my soul all day, and tears, hot and large, had tinually been scalding my cheek; for the spectacle of her sad resignation gave me an intolerable pain at the heart.
About a week subsequently to the is above narrated, Miss Temple, who had written to Mr. Lloyd, received his answer: it appeared that what he said went to corroborate my at. Miss Temple, having assembled the whole school, annouhat inquiry had been made into the charges alleged against Jane Eyre, and that she was most happy to be able to pronounce her pletely cleared from every imputation. The teachers then shook hands with me and kissed me, and a murmur of pleasure ran through the ranks of my panions.
Thus relieved of a grievous load, I from that hour set to work afresh, resolved to pioneer my way through every difficulty: I toiled hard, and my success roportioo my efforts; my memory, not naturally tenacious, improved with practice; exercise sharpened my wits; in a few weeks I romoted to a higher class; ihan two months I was allowed to ence Frend drawing. I learhe first two tenses of the verb etre, and sketched my first cottage (whose walls, by-the-bye, outrivalled in slope those of the leaning tower of Pisa), on the same day. That night, on going to bed, I fot to prepare in imagination the Barmecide supper of hot roast potatoes, or white bread and new milk, with which I was wont to amuse my inward cravings: I feasted instead on the spectacle of ideal drawings, which I saw in the dark; all the work of my own hands: freely pencilled houses and trees, picturesque rocks and ruins, Cuyp-like groups of cattle, sweet paintings of butterflies h over unblown roses, of birds pig at ripe cherries, of wren’s s enclosing pearl-like eggs, wreathed about with young ivy sprays. I examioo, in thought, the possibility of my ever being able to translate currently a certain little French story which Madame Pierrot had that day shown me; nor was that problem solved to my satisfa ere I fell sweetly asleep.
Well has Solomon said—“Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.”
I would not now have exged Lowood with all its privations fateshead and its daily luxuries.
百度搜索 Jane Eyre 天涯 或 Jane Eyre 天涯在线书库 即可找到本书最新章节.